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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #54288 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54288)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The life and times of George Villiers, duke
-of Buckingham, Volume 3 (of 3), by Katherine Thomson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The life and times of George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, Volume 3 (of 3)
- From original and authentic sources
-
-Author: Katherine Thomson
-
-Release Date: March 6, 2017 [EBook #54288]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE, TIMES OF GEORGE VILLIERS, VOL 3 ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by KD Weeks, MWS, Bryan Ness and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
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-
- Transcriber’s Note:
-
-This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
-Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as ‘_italic_’.
-Superscripted characters are prefixed with ‘^’, or ‘^{abbrv}’.
-
-There are both numbered footnotes and notes using the traditional
-asterisk, dagger, etc. The latter have been The footnotes have been
-moved to follow the paragraphs in which they are referenced.
-
-Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
-see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
-the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.
-
- THE LIFE AND TIMES
- OF
- GEORGE VILLIERS,
- DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
-
-
- FROM ORIGINAL AND AUTHENTIC SOURCES.
-
-
- BY MRS. THOMSON,
-
-
- AUTHOR OF
- “MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF HENRY THE EIGHTH,”
- “LIFE OF SIR WALTER RALEGH,”
- “MEMOIRS OF SARAH, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH,”
- &c., &c.
-
-
-
-
- IN THREE VOLUMES.
-
- VOL. III.
-
- LONDON:
- HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,
- SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN,
- 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
-
- 1860.
-
- _The right of Translation is reserved._
-
-
-
-
- LONDON:
- PRINTED BY R. BORN, GLOUCESTER STREET,
- REGENT’S PARK.
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
-
- ----------
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
- Death of the Earl of Suffolk--His Address to the Heads of
- Houses--The Opportunity seized upon by the King to make
- Buckingham Chancellor--Indignation of the House of
- Commons--Injudicious Conduct of the King--Vehement
- Debates--Sir Dudley Digges and Elliot sent to
- Prison--Buckingham’s Motives for Engaging in a War with
- France--He endeavours to send away the Queen’s
- Servants--His Fear of losing his Influence--Arrival of
- Soubise and Rohan--The Duke goes to Dover--To
- Portsmouth--Letters from the Duchess--From his Mother--He
- sets sail for Rochelle--His First Operations
- Successful--Care taken by him of his Troops--1626-1627 1
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
- The Delay in Sending Provisions--The Impossibility of
- reducing the Citadel by Famine--The Duke’s own means were
- embarked in the Cause--Sir John Burgh--His Death--Letter
- of Sir Edward Conway to his Father--Buckingham’s Sanguine
- Nature--Efforts of Sir Edward Nicholas 41
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
- Felton--His Character--Uncertainty of his
- Motives--Circumstances under which he was brought into
- Contact with Buckingham--Motives of his Crime
- discussed--The Remonstrance--The Fate of La
- Rochelle--Buckingham’s Unpopularity--Returns to
- Rhé--Misgivings of his Friends--Interview with Laud--with
- Charles I.--His Farewell--He enters
- Portsmouth--Felton--The Assassination--Original Letters
- from Sir D. Carlton and Sir Charles Morgan--The King’s
- Grief 89
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
- Character of the Duke of Buckingham--His Patronage of
- Art--His Collection--The Spanish Court
- Described--Collection by Charles I.--Fate of these
- Pictures 137
-
- CHAPTER V.
-
- Patronage of the Drama by Charles and the Duke of
- Buckingham--Massinger--Ben Jonson--Their Connection with
- the Court, and with the Duke 183
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
- Beaumont and Fletcher--Their Origin--Their Joint
- Productions--Character of Bishop Fletcher--Anecdotes about
- the Use of Tobacco--Ford, the Dramatist--Howell--Sir Henry
- Wotton--The Character of the Duke of Buckingham Considered 267
-
- APPENDIX 321
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
-DEATH OF THE EARL OF SUFFOLK--HIS ADDRESS TO THE HEADS OF HOUSES--THE
- OPPORTUNITY SEIZED UPON BY THE KING TO MAKE BUCKINGHAM
- CHANCELLOR--INDIGNATION OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS--INJUDICIOUS CONDUCT
- OF THE KING, VEHEMENT DEBATES--SIR DUDLEY DIGGES AND ELIOT SENT TO
- PRISON--BUCKINGHAM’S MOTIVES FOR ENGAGING IN A WAR WITH FRANCE--HE
- ENDEAVOURS TO SEND AWAY THE QUEEN’S SERVANTS--HIS FEAR OF LOSING HIS
- INFLUENCE--ARRIVAL OF SOUBISE AND ROHAN--THE DUKE GOES TO DOVER--TO
- PORTSMOUTH--LETTERS FROM THE DUCHESS--FROM HIS MOTHER--HE SETS SAIL
- FOR ROCHELLE--HIS FIRST OPERATIONS SUCCESSFUL--CARE TAKEN BY HIM OF
- HIS TROOPS--1626-1627.
-
- LIFE AND TIMES OF
-
- GEORGE VILLIERS.
-
- ----------
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
-
-Whilst these matters were in agitation, the death of the Earl of
-Suffolk, Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, afforded the King an
-opportunity of evincing his unbounded favour to the Duke of Buckingham,
-even whilst he lay under the very shadow of a parliamentary impeachment.
-
-A few years previously, the unpopularity of the Duke at Cambridge had
-been manifested by a play, in which his measures were satirized, and
-which had been acted by the scholars of Ben’et College.
-
-The ancient discipline of the University appears, indeed, to have so
-greatly relaxed, that in 1625-6--in compliance with a letter from the
-King--Lord Suffolk had found it expedient to address the Heads of
-Houses, whom he styled “Gentlemen, and my loving friends,” exhorting
-them to restore order and “consequent prosperity to their University.”
-
-The last sentence had an ominous sound, for there were few cases in
-which the King thought it necessary to interfere, in which Buckingham
-did not prompt the royal mind to active measures.
-
-Notwithstanding the unpopularity of his minister, disregarding the
-public notion that, as the patron and personal friend of Laud,
-Buckingham was the patron of Roman Catholics, and in direct defiance of
-the impeachment, all the influence of the Crown was employed to procure
-the Duke’s election to the office of Chancellor.
-
-That dignity was considered then, as it now is, one of the highest
-tributes to personal character, as well as to political eminence, that
-the nation could offer. It happened that Doctor Mew, the Master of
-Trinity College, was the King’s Chaplain. No fewer than forty-three
-votes were obtained by his means; nevertheless, there was a powerful
-opponent in Lord Thomas Howard, son of the late Chancellor; a hundred
-and three votes against the Duke were secured by him, and with more
-exertion, it is supposed, that he might have defeated the Duke’s
-partisans.[1]
-
-Footnote 1:
-
- Brodie, vol. ii., p. 117.
-
-Buckingham therefore was elected: thus did Charles, to use the words of
-Sir Henry Wotton, “add to the facings or fringings of the Duke’s
-greatness the embroiderings or listing of one favour upon another.” But
-the King, in point of fact, was doing his favourite the greatest injury,
-by thus marking him out as an object for the justly-aroused indignation
-of the public.
-
-His doom was, however, at hand. Whatsoever he may have intended to do
-for Cambridge was cut short by the hands of destiny. There remains,
-however, a very characteristic memorial of Buckingham in that
-University. The silver maces still in use, carried by the Esquire
-Bedells, were a present from the ill-fated Duke,[2] whose presiding
-office was of so short continuance.
-
-Footnote 2:
-
- Masters, 137.--Nichols’ “Leicestershire,” iii., p. 200.
-
-It was to be expected that the House of Commons would receive with great
-anger this fresh proof of the King’s contempt for their body. Regarding
-this election as a reflection upon them, a resolution was passed to send
-to the University a remonstrance against their choice. Charles, however,
-considering--and with some justice--that this remonstrance would be an
-invasion of the privileges of the University, despatched a message to
-the House, by Sir Richard Weston, desiring them not to interfere;
-inditing, at the same time, a letter to the University, expressing his
-approbation of their election of the Duke.[3]
-
-Footnote 3:
-
- Brodie, from Rushworth.
-
-The Duke’s answer to the impeachment was put in on the tenth of June: on
-the fourteenth the Commons presented a petition, praying for liberty to
-proceed in the discharge of their duty--and entreating that Buckingham
-might, during the impeachment, be removed from the royal presence.
-
-Had the King yielded to a prayer so reasonable and equitable, the fury
-of the public might have been appeased. But he viewed the most important
-question of this early period of his reign, as between man and man, not
-as between a monarch and his subject. Buckingham’s great fault, he
-considered, was being his favourite. No criminality could be proved in
-any department of his conduct as minister.[4] Nor could Charles, who had
-hung over the death-bed of his father, treat with anything but contempt
-the accusation of poison. The King believed that all the other articles
-of the impeachment were prompted by a resolution, after attacking his
-minister, to assail his own prerogative. He had been reared in the
-greatest jealousy on that one point, and with the strongest and most
-conservative value for the sovereign authority. Charles, accomplished as
-a man, was profoundly ignorant and prejudiced as a king: his views were
-narrow, and his knowledge of the constitution of his country limited.
-His notions had been warped by a residence at the courts of France and
-Spain. The immediate effects of a despotic rule are to a superficial
-observer imposing. It is only to those who look into the interior
-circumstances of a people, and who well consider the tendencies of an
-arbitrary government to blight honest ambition, to cramp and weaken the
-national character, that its real misery and degradation are apparent.
-
-Footnote 4:
-
- Hume.
-
-In Spain, with Buckingham ever at his side; in a court full of
-picturesque splendour; in youth, with hope and love before him, Charles
-had probably forgotten the aching hearts in the prisons of the
-Inquisition. In France, the irresistible fascinations of Richelieu had
-not, it is reasonable to suppose, been wanting to bias the mind of one
-likely to be so nearly allied to the royal family of France. Most of all
-those influences that betrayed Charles to his ruin must, however, be
-ascribed to the dogmatic fallacies of his father. James had educated
-according to his own contracted opinions not only his son, but the
-favourite who was hereafter, as it is expressed by Sir Henry Wotton, to
-be “the chief concomitant” of the future sovereign of England.[5]
-
-Footnote 5:
-
- Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 212.
-
-Of late years, before the quarrel with the Commons, the popularity of
-Buckingham had increased. The whole scene of affairs had been changed
-from Spain to France; the alteration was satisfactory to many, and was
-ascribed to the Duke--and he had not only become suddenly a favourite
-with the public, but had been extolled in Parliament.[6] This was,
-indeed, says Wotton, “but a mere bubble or blast, and like an ephemeral
-fit of applause, as eftsoon will appear in the sequel and train of his
-life.” The contrast, therefore, between a success so recent and the
-present odium into which he had fallen, was no doubt the cause of much
-chagrin to the harassed favourite, who seems, like most men of sensitive
-natures, to have valued popularity, and to have been fully aware that
-his political life depended upon it. He knew that no man could long
-resist the force of public opinion in this country. Even in those days,
-suppressed as it was by a fettered press, and by the gaunt spectre of
-injustice in Star-chambers, it had exploded into one burst of forcible
-indignation in the House of Commons. Somewhere the dauntless spirit of
-an Englishman must speak out, and it then began to make itself heard in
-that great assembly which had hitherto been almost as subservient to
-Court influence as the French Chamber of the present day.
-
-Footnote 6:
-
- Ibid.
-
-The answer of the Duke to the Impeachment was drawn out with much skill
-by Sir Nicholas Hyde,[7] the uncle of Edward Hyde, afterwards Lord
-Clarendon. Sir Nicholas was considered to be a sound lawyer, and a man
-of honourable character. He was a “staunch stickler,” says Lord
-Campbell, “for prerogative; but this was supposed to arise rather from
-the sincere opinion he formed of what the English constitution was or
-ought to be, than from a desire to recommend himself for promotion.”[8]
-He succeeded Sir Randolf Crewe, who was suddenly removed from his seat
-to make room for one who had no objection to the arbitrary acts by which
-Charles endeavoured to support Buckingham, and who was ready to conduct
-the war with France without the aid of parliament.
-
-Footnote 7:
-
- He was the son of Lawrence Hyde, of Gussage St. Michael, in the county
- of Dorset, and of a west country branch of the ancient family of "Hyde
- of that Ilk."--_See Lord Campbell._
-
-Footnote 8:
-
- Lives of the Chief Justices, vol. iv., p. 381.
-
-The debates which were now carried on with vehemence seemed to produce
-little impression on the counsels which incited Charles and Buckingham
-to acts of insanity. The chief orators on the side of the parliament
-were Selden, Noy, and Thomas Wentworth, member for Oxford, and, before
-their commitment, Sir Dudley Digges, and Sir John Eliot. To this list
-several others must be added; amongst the most notable were those of
-Burton and Prynne. Burton had been one of the clerks of the closet to
-King Charles when Prince of Wales, and had been offended by not
-accompanying his royal master to Spain, but grew still more indignant at
-the preferment of Laud; and by being himself regarded as an “underling.”
-He was afterwards dismissed the court for various acts of insolence, and
-became, as a matter of course, the bitterest enemy of his late
-patron.[9]
-
-Footnote 9:
-
- Heylyn, 149.
-
-There were now, to use the language of Sir Edward Coke, “two leaks in
-the ship,” or State. “Two leaks,” he declared, “would drown any
-ship;”[10] yet Lord Campbell, as well as other historians, is of opinion
-that had it not been for the attempt to force episcopacy on Scotland,
-Charles, and even his descendants, might have continued to rule by
-absolute power, until, in the course of centuries, the public voice
-might have forced a revolution upon the country.
-
-Footnote 10:
-
- Lord Campbell, vol. vi., 322, _passim_.
-
-Whilst the levying of a loan, by which Charles hoped to supply the place
-of a grant from Parliament, was going on, Buckingham was using every
-effort to return to that country where, either as a lover or as a
-conqueror, he hoped to see Anne of Austria once more. According to
-Clarendon, he had sworn that he would see the Queen in spite of all the
-power of France, and that determination had originated the war which was
-now on the eve of commencing.
-
-In order to challenge reprisals, since there was no pretence to warrant
-a proclamation of war with France, Buckingham encouraged the capture of
-French vessels by English ships and privateers, taking the vanquished
-vessels as prizes. He began, also, to make his great influence available
-by his efforts to lower the French nation in the eyes of the King,
-fearing lest the young and beautiful queen should oppose the war. He
-endeavoured, it is alleged, to alienate the affections of the King from
-the bride of his choice, and to shew her personally every species of
-insolence and rudeness. Once, when she did not call upon his mother, as
-she had promised to do by appointment, Buckingham entered her Majesty’s
-room in a rage; the Queen answered him harshly: upon which he told her
-that there had been Queens in England who had lost their heads.[11]
-
-Footnote 11:
-
- Brodie, after Clarendon.
-
-Buckingham appears to have been in a fever of jealousy; hitherto he had
-exercised a sole influence over his royal master. Henceforth, the less
-public but more sure sway of an idolized wife would for ever interfere
-with his counsels. Infuriated against the French, yet madly in love with
-their Queen, Buckingham had only been deterred from returning to France
-as a private individual by a dread of assassination on the part of
-Richelieu, who had, it appears, entertained that design. Having
-persuaded Charles to send back, contrary to treaties, the Queen’s French
-attendants, he now drove the inexperienced and irritated Henrietta Maria
-to despair; and finding herself in a foreign country, where all around
-her were inimical to her religion, and to herself, she passionately
-entreated to be allowed to return to France. Buckingham, rejoicing at
-the success of his schemes, besought Charles to allow him to conduct the
-Queen home. But that proposal, when transmitted to Paris, was
-indignantly rejected by the French Court, and the Duke was confirmed in
-his resolution to commence a war with a nation which had the courage to
-decline his friendship.
-
-His scheme for sending back the Queen’s French servants had been,
-however, agreeable in the extreme to Charles--and it may even have been
-suggested by the King, who, in answer to a letter from the Duke, writes
-to him thus:--“Steenie, I have received your letters by Dic Graeme. This
-is my answer: I command you to send all the French away to-morrow out of
-town; if you can, by fair means, but stick not long in dispatching,
-otherwise force them away like so many wyld beasts, until ye have
-shipped them, and so the devil go with them. Let me hear no more answer,
-but of the performance of my command; so trust your faithful and
-constant friend, CHARLES R. Dated Oaking, 7 Aug. 1626.”[12]
-
-Footnote 12:
-
- Brodie, vol. ii., note, from Ayscough’s MSS. Brit. Mus., 4161, vol.
- ii.
-
-His former loan of ships to the French implies a more friendly footing
-with that nation than these later passages of the Duke’s life may seem
-to indicate.[13] It was in fact his dread of any influence stronger than
-his own that caused Buckingham to induce Charles to break off the treaty
-with Spain; and had instigated his animosity to France. Haunted by the
-dread of being superseded in Charles’s favour, there were moments when
-his overburdened mind was opened to some humble friends, and the
-apprehensions of the King’s regard being alienated were imparted in
-agony to a confidant.
-
-Footnote 13:
-
- Ibid.
-
-Buckingham was also aware of that intriguing and uncertain disposition
-in Henrietta Maria, which, in spite of a certain heroism of character
-which she possessed, shewed itself in mournful colours in later periods
-of her chequered life. The patronage which she wished to divide among
-her French followers was also a source of jealousy to the Duke, who had
-hitherto disposed of all Court offices to people who would support him
-in his state of power, or aid him if he fell. Henrietta was attended on
-her arrival in this country by many younger sons of good families in
-France, who looked to England as the field where golden honours were
-plentifully to be reaped. “They devoured so much,” we are told, “that
-all the thrift of Bishop Juxom, who had amassed much, was gulped down by
-these insatiable sharks.”[14] Patronage and influence being withdrawn,
-the Duke’s ruin must, he knew, be complete. He had nothing to expect
-from his country, for he had never considered the interests of his
-native land as identified with his own. There were in his mind some
-motives of a higher class and a more general nature, although we must
-not look for lofty principles of action in those days.
-
-Footnote 14:
-
- Brodie, from Hacket’s Life of Williams, part ii., p. 96.
-
-The intrigues of Richelieu, who was now Buckingham’s rival and foe,
-worked in England through the Queen. The Duke had been overreached by
-the Cardinal, and thirsted for open revenge. By denying the troops of
-Count Mansfeldt a passage through France, the army of that celebrated
-general had perished. There was no doubt of Richelieu’s determination to
-extirpate the Protestants, and all promises of befriending them had long
-since proved faithless; the Duke, therefore, saw that he had been
-compromised, and he resented that superiority in trickery, which it is
-difficult for a mind like his to bear. Whilst he had thus been deceived
-by France, Buckingham was suffering by the popular cry against
-recusants; and the Romish priests, adding to that cry, were enjoining on
-Henrietta Maria, as a penance, that she should walk bare-footed to
-Tyburn, as a tribute to the memory of the Jesuits, who had been executed
-at that spot of sad remembrances. Thus, the cause of the suffering
-Protestants in France had become the cause of the people, and Buckingham
-hoped to regain his popularity by espousing it--whilst, at the same
-time, by sending away the French attendants of the Queen, he should
-banish the emissaries of Richelieu. Much of his conduct has been
-attributed to the influence of a French Abbot, who was related to the
-Duke of Orleans, who was also a violent enemy to the Cardinal.[15]
-
-Footnote 15:
-
- Brodie, from Rushworth, vol. i., p. 424.
-
-Fortunately for Buckingham’s endeavours to regain popularity, the Duc de
-Soubise, who, together with the Duc de Rohan, his brother, were the
-great leaders of the Protestant party in France, arrived during the
-summer, after the dissolution of Parliament in England. The Abbot, it
-seems, who had incited Buckingham against Richelieu, had at the same
-time acquainted the Duc de Soubise with the state of affairs in England.
-The alliance of these two great noblemen was eagerly accepted by
-Buckingham. The Duc de Rohan engaged to supply 4000 foot and 200 horse,
-to assist the English on landing in France; which was an enterprize
-eagerly coveted by Buckingham.[16]
-
-Footnote 16:
-
- Letter from Admiral Pennington to Buckingham, State Paper Office,
- inedited.
-
-M. de Soubise had at his command a fleet of twenty-three sail, which was
-to proceed at once to La Rochelle, then closely besieged by Richelieu,
-and to throw provisions into the town. The English Government engaged to
-fit these ships up, to victual them, and to store them with provisions
-for La Rochelle. Private information disclosed, however, that these
-“ships were miserable rotten things, of little or no force.” Their crews
-amounted to 1,261 wretched French sailors, who had neither bread nor
-drink till the Duke’s vice-admiral went down to Plymouth.[17] Soubise
-had, afterwards, a supply of beef and pork allowed for two days a week;
-of fish, for the other four; some small store of butter and cheese, and
-some eighteen or twenty tons of cider. This seems to have been all the
-provisions for all the ships; and Admiral Pennington, writing to the
-Duke, said:--“I wish the Frenchmen had all the rest, for our people will
-never eat it, only the best of it.” So like the English now were the
-English then. A hundred tons of beer were to be supplied out of the
-town.[18]
-
-Footnote 17:
-
- Letter from Admiral Pennington to Buckingham.
-
-Footnote 18:
-
- Ibid.
-
-But other unforeseen difficulties occurred, and the greatest was the
-want of men. The miserable provisions, or, perhaps, the lingering
-presence of the plague, now produced sickness and death among the
-seamen; “so that few of the captains,” writes Pennington, “have
-sufficient men to bring their ships about.” He begs to have a _strict_
-command for the “press” sent him;[19] but even that was of no avail, as
-the strongest men fled up the country and hid themselves in the woods.
-
-Footnote 19:
-
- A request which was quickly complied with, as we find in the State
- Paper Office: “Orders given to impress men for the fleet,” addressed
- to Admiral Pennington.
-
-Then certain merchants, to whom the Lord-Admiral looked for a supply of
-ships in war, were unwilling to lend their vessels. They even disabled
-their vessels to prevent their being used; and it became necessary for
-Pennington, as he stated, to send his carpenters to repair them--and
-after all he was obliged to wait for a reinforcement from Ireland.[20]
-The poor Vice-Admiral wrote anxious letters, praying that the useless
-merchant-ships might be sent away; whilst the others, French and all,
-might be well provisioned at once. He entreated that a ship-load of
-cordage, cables, anchors, and sails for the furnishing of other ships,
-might come forthwith. This was a miserable beginning of an aggressive
-war, and Charles must now have seen his folly in having quarrelled with
-Parliament. Eventually, Pennington informed the Duke that he was obliged
-to discharge all the merchant ships, except a few from Ireland, which
-were in good condition.[21]
-
-Footnote 20:
-
- Ibid.
-
-Footnote 21:
-
- Ibid.
-
-The situation of the Duke seems, at this moment, to have been truly
-pitiable. It has been already stated that he received and answered all
-letters himself; and the applications made to him, in his capacity of
-High Admiral, seem to have been of the most minute character. Sometimes
-among his correspondence we find a letter from Admiral Burgh, wanting to
-know what he was to do with some Newfoundland fish which had come into
-his possession as Vice-Admiral.[22] Then follow numerous complaints of
-the dilapidated state of the forts and castles which ought to have
-guarded the coasts. In 1625, however, they were reported to be in a
-perfect state for defence.
-
-Footnote 22:
-
- Ibid.
-
-Often was the Duke addressed as “the most noble Prince George;” whilst
-in numerous epistles a tribute is paid to his justice and
-circumspection, which would surprise those who take the ordinary view of
-his character. His powers and his province were alike important. A Lord
-High Admiral was, to use the words of an eminent writer, “one to whom is
-committed the government of all things done upon or beyond the sea in
-any part of the world--all things done upon the sea-coast in all ports
-and harbours, and upon all rivers below the first bridge next towards
-the sea.” So far for his powers; the following were among the list of
-his privileges:--
-
-“To the Lord High Admiral belong all penalties of all transgressions at
-sea or on the shore, the goods of pirates and felons, all stray goods,
-wrecks at sea and headlands, a share of all lawful prizes not granted to
-lords of manors adjoining the sea; all great fishes, as sea-dogs, and
-other great fishes, called royal fishes, except whales and
-sturgeon.”[23]
-
-Footnote 23:
-
- Chamberlayne’s State of Great Britain in the seventeenth century.
-
-Questions arising out of these privileges, and disputes between Lord
-Zouch and the captains of vessels, on the subject of wrecks, occur
-incessantly among the documents in the State-paper Office, which almost
-supply a history of the period.
-
-In the beginning of the year 1626, Buckingham had commenced his naval
-operations by sending to impress twenty of the best merchant-ships in
-the Thames or elsewhere; “such,” were his instructions, “as shall be
-most ready to go to sea, and most able to do his Majesty’s service in
-his present employments.”[24]
-
-Footnote 24:
-
- State Papers, edited, 1626.
-
-The impressment of these vessels does not seem to have been successful
-in this instance; and although the captains to command them were
-appointed by Government, they found great difficulty, as has been before
-stated, in manning their ships.
-
-Great, meantime, were Buckingham’s endeavours to clear the seas of
-pirates, as well as to recover that dominion over the narrow seas upon
-which encroachments had been made. The Duke now began to be assisted by
-Sir Edward Nicholas, whose name appears at this period as the writer of
-the Duke’s answers to suitors, and who was evidently regarded with much
-confidence by Buckingham.[25]
-
-Footnote 25:
-
- State Papers, edited, 1626.
-
-Although a fleet of twenty sail, of the king’s ships, and others had
-been prepared so early as the 6th of January, 1625-6, for a service of
-six months,[26] yet it was not until June that the Duke suddenly left
-the court, and, with all the haste of his impetuous nature, went on
-board the fleet at Dover so unexpectedly that his secretary Nicholas
-could not join him before he set out, but was a few hours too late.
-Neither had due preparations been made; shoes, shirts, and stockings
-were wanting for three thousand men; the surgeons’ chests were not
-supplied with medicines; many of the soldiers’ arms were wanting; the
-colonels and captains begged to have new colours; the soldiers to have
-hammocks; and it was represented to the Duke that their food ought not
-to be so inferior as it then was to that of the sailors.[27]
-
-Footnote 26:
-
- Brodie (vol. ii., p. 147) says that only ten sail of the hundred ships
- that formed Buckingham’s fleet were the king’s ships; but it seems
- from these letters that the number was much greater.
-
-Footnote 27:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxvi., No. 19.
-
-The Duke, according to Sir Henry Wotton’s statement, was personally
-employed on either element; both “Admiral and General,” there seems to
-have been a deficiency of discipline; several murders were committed by
-the soldiery, and an enforcement of martial law was recommended.
-
-His haste and secrecy had, perhaps, another object. It precluded those
-farewells which are the most touching to those who encounter the chances
-of war. In Buckingham’s case, the parting with his wife, whom he might
-never see again, must have been mingled with self-reproach as well as
-sorrow. He evaded it therefore by flight, notwithstanding a promise that
-he should see her again, nay even by an assurance that he should not go
-with the expedition to Rhé.[28] This conduct wounded the poor Duchess to
-the heart, and it was perhaps these traits of conduct that alienated her
-affections, and made her less reluctant to a second marriage than might
-have been expected from one of her gentle nature. Buckingham’s apparent
-neglect would have been inexplicable were it not remembered how
-completely an unhallowed passion for another severs and rends all
-domestic ties; and that, long before the links are broken, they are
-loosened by the first deviation from duty, even in thought. The
-following letters were probably found among the Duke’s papers at the
-time of his death, and so conveyed to the State-Paper Office, where they
-have remained buried--the words of reproach and sorrow, unheeded and
-unknown. They are evidently strictly confidential; but they explain and
-excuse, if anything can excuse, the after-conduct of the Duchess. Much
-that followed the Duke’s decease is accounted for in this epistle:--
-
-"MY LORD,--Now as I do to plainly se you have deceved me, and if I judge
-you according to y^r one[29] words I must condemn you not only in this
-hut in your accation[30] you so much forswore. I confese I deed ever
-fere you wood be catched, for there was no other likelyhoode after all
-that showe but you must needs go--for my part, but I have bine a very
-miserable woman hitherto that never could have you keepe at home, but
-now I will ever looke to be so till some blessed ocasion comes to draw
-you quite from the Cort, for ther is non more miserable than I am, and
-till you leve this life of a cortyer w^{ch} you have bine ever since I
-knewe you, I shall ever thynke myself unhappye. I am the unfortunate of
-all outher, that ever when I am w^{th} child I must have so much cause
-of sorrow as to have you go from me, but I never had so great a cause of
-greeve as now. I hope God of his mercie give me patience, and if I were
-sure my soule wood be well I could wish myself to be out of this
-miserable world, for till then I shall not be happye: now I will no more
-right to hope you do not goe, but must betake myself to my prayers for
-your safe and prosperous jorney w^{ch} I will not fayle to do, and for
-your quicke returne: but never, whilst I live, will I trust you agane,
-nor never will put you to your oathe for any thinge agane. I wonder why
-you sent me word by _crowe_[31] that you wood se me shortly, to put me
-in hopes: I pray God never woman may love a man as I have done you that
-non may fele that w^{ch} I have done for you: sence ther is no remedy
-but that you must go, I pray God to send you gon quickly, that you may
-be quickly at home again, and whosoever that wisht you to this jorney by
-side yourselfe, that they may be punished for it, because of a greete
-dele of greeve to me; but that is no mater now ther is no remedy but
-patience w^{ch} God send me. I pray God to send me wise, and not to hurt
-myself w^{th} greeving now. I am very well, I thanke God, and so is Mall
-and so I bid farewell.--Your poor greeved and obedient wife,
-
- "K. BUCKINGHAM.
-
-"I pray give order before you goe for the jewells w^{ch} I owe for ...
-burn this: for God’s sake, go not to lande: and pity me, for I feel
-(most miserable) at this time: be not angry with me for righting, for my
-hart is so full I cannot chuse, because I deed not looke for it.
-
-"I would to Jesus that there were in any way in the world to fetch you
-out of the jorney with y^r honor, if any prayers or any suffering of
-mine could do it I were a most happy woman, but you have send y^rself
-and made me miserable: God for give you for it.
-
-"You have forgoten poore Dicke Turpin for all y^r promis to me.[32]
-
- “26th June, 1627. To the Duke of Buckingham.”[33]
-
-Footnote 28:
-
- Ibid., Domestic, vol. lxviii., No. 3; see also Preface to Calendar, by
- Mr. Bruce, p. 11.
-
-Footnote 29:
-
- Own.
-
-Footnote 30:
-
- Action.
-
-Footnote 31:
-
- Sir Sackville Crowe, who had been keeper of the Duke’s privy purse,
- and was now treasurer of the Navy.
-
-Footnote 32:
-
- The spelling of this original letter is preserved here: the
- punctuation alone is altered.
-
-And again, on the sixteenth of June, was sent another epistle, full of
-affection:--
-
-"MY DERE LORD,--I was very much joy’d at the receiving y^r leter last
-night, and I will assure you I do not only right cheerfully, but am so
-in my hart, and outwardly every on may see it, and so they do, for they
-tell me they ar glad to see me so cheerfull, and I hop sences. I will
-assure you I will not fayle to keep my promis w^{th} you; I hope you
-will not deseve me in breaking yours, for I protest if you should, it
-woold half kill me: and I give you humble thanks for saying you will
-likewise keepe your word with me in the outher mane bisnes,[34] as you
-call it. I am very glad you cam so well to y^r jorneys end, but sorey it
-was so latt, for Mr. Murey told me it was nine a clocke before you gott
-thether. I pray lett me here as often from you as you can, and send me
-word when I shall be so hapye as to se you, for I shall think it very
-longe, my lord: I thanke God I am very well, so farwelle, my dere Lord,
-your true loving, and obedient wife,
-
- "K. BUCKINGHAM.[35]
-
-"My Lord, for God sake lett some of that money w^{ch} you in tended to
-have at Portsmouth to be left w^{th} Dick Oliver, if it be but five
-hundred pound to pay Mr. Ward for a ringe and for a cross w^h you gave
-to my Lady Exeter: for Jesus sake do this, for I am so hanted with them
-for it, that I do not know what to do; if you will but send me 400_l._ I
-will dispatch them myself, for I cannot ster for them.[36]
-
-"I beseech you remember my cusin Turpine.
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham, my dere husband.”[37]
-
-Footnote 33:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxv., No. 3.
-
-Footnote 34:
-
- Main business.
-
-Footnote 35:
-
- Vol. xvii. No. 28.
-
-Footnote 36:
-
- For the Duke’s creditors.
-
-Footnote 37:
-
- State Papers, 2, vol. lxvii., date uncertain, No. 60.
-
-This epistle was soon followed by another letter, expressive of great
-affection--the poor Duchess begging of the Duke not to deceive her, and
-to love no one but herself. “It was impossible,” she writes, “for woman
-to love a man more than she did him.” Again she writes:--“beginning to
-fear” that some hints in which he had encouraged a hope of their meeting
-again before he sailed were but deceptions, and that she should not see
-him again, “she was grieved,” she added, “that he had not told her the
-truth.”[38]
-
-Footnote 38:
-
- No. 96, Ibid.
-
-The Duke’s example and presence, however, after all these delays, had so
-great an effect both on officers and men, that, on the second of June,
-Sir Fulke Greville had to write word from Cowes Castle, that he could,
-with a “perspective,” see a part of the fleet in Stokes Bay.[39] The
-Duke, meantime, was harassed with difficulties; affairs were far from
-being in a satisfactory condition; there was continual difficulty in
-getting seamen, and supplies of money were wanting to leave the coast
-guarded, to repair the navy, to furnish stores, and to pay the sailors
-on their return from Rhé.[40]
-
-Footnote 39:
-
- S. P., vol. lxvi., No. 14.
-
-Footnote 40:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxvi., No. 33.
-
-Meantime the town of Portsmouth was gladdened by the presence of the
-King, who walked round the fortifications; and, judging for himself of
-the ruinous state of the bulwarks, promised that they should be
-repaired. It was Buckingham’s intention at this time to build a new dock
-at Portsmouth, in order to supersede that at Chatham, and thus to
-benefit the naval service incredibly.[41] Charles entered into this
-admirable plan. Accompanied by Monsieur de Soubise, the Earls of Rutland
-and Denbigh, Lord Carlisle and the Lord Chamberlain, he went aboard
-several of the ships, and dined at last in the “Triumph.” At table his
-conversation ran all day on the armament, and he asked Sir John Watts,
-in his own language, whether “she” (the “Triumph”) “could yar or not?”
-The repast went off with great hilarity: the Duke’s musicians playing
-merrily, and Archie the fool, and Sir Robert Deale, adding to the
-general jollity. Well might the Duchess, nevertheless, mourn at the
-departure of her husband. The plague was raging in the fort of La
-Rochelle with as much fury as in England.
-
-Footnote 41:
-
- Ibid., No. 35 and 67.
-
-At length, on the 27th of June, the Duke sailed from Portsmouth. If we
-could accept as sincere the good wishes which attended his departure, no
-man ever left England with greater assurances of devotion. “Secretary
-Conway was ready,” he declared, “to carry his hand all the world cries
-for the Duke’s service.” “The Duke’s good works,” he said, “came forth
-with a better grace than he ever observed in the acts of any other man.
-Besides his own duty, affection, and humble endeavour and thorough
-hope,” he “joyed” to consign to the Duke the duty, thankfulness, faith,
-and affection of his posterity.[42]
-
-Footnote 42:
-
- State Papers, No. 71.
-
-Secretary Cope sent a message of good wishes in these terms: “God direct
-his ways and his ends, and make them acceptable to himself and all good
-men.”[43] Even the Queen, between whom and the Duke there had been so
-great a coolness, sent him a letter, with best wishes. Sir George
-Goring, writing to his “ever and above all most honoured Lord,” the Duke
-of Buckingham, engaged to “keep the Duke safe with the Queen.” The
-Duchess could not, however, he said, reconcile herself to his departure,
-without one word of farewell; and the Duke’s mother thought a “word or
-two in” excuse would revive her much.[44]
-
-Footnote 43:
-
- Ibid., No. 76.
-
-Footnote 44:
-
- Vol. 68, No. 18.
-
-It was not therefore, it seems, the departure alone of her husband, but
-his neglect, that pained her. Fond, indeed, and true were the hearts
-that mourned for his absence in peril. His sister, the Countess of
-Denbigh, shed many a tear when she missed the Duke at chapel on the
-morning of his departure with the King.
-
-His mother’s blessing was given in these few, but very expressive
-words:--
-
-“MY DEARE AND MOST BELOVED SONNE,--Your departure lies grevous at my
-hart, being oprest with many motherly feres, and were it not for the
-great joy I beheld in your face that presages some good fortunes, I had
-bene much worse, but since it must be as it is, I will omit all (with
-you) to God’s pleasure, assuring my selfe he that hath done so much for
-you, will make you a happy instrument of his further glory, and your
-eternall comfort; to which end I will addres all my prayers to our sweet
-Saviour Jesus,--being your ever most assured loving Mother,
-
- M. BUCKINGHAM.[45]
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham.”
-
-Footnote 45:
-
- Ibid., 105.
-
-The first letter, written according to the Duke’s orders, by Sir James
-Bagg, who accompanied him, to Secretary Nicholas, shewed how unabated
-was the impetuous and arbitrary spirit of the favourite. “The Duke,”
-Bagg wrote, “is very desirous to have the refusers of the loan sent for
-to the council, which will make the western people sensible that Eliot
-and Coryten do not only lie by the heels for my Lord’s sake.”[46]
-
-Footnote 46:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxviii., No. 25.
-
-He set out, however, in high spirits, excited by the change of scene,
-and full of confidence in his projected movements. It is agreeable to
-find a concern for the comfort and health of the troops, which amounted
-in all to between six and seven thousand, under his command. On the
-twelfth of July, the “Triumph,” with nineteen great ships of the fleet,
-was seen near St. Martin’s, at Rochelle; King Charles’s colours, the
-white flag, and the St. Andrew’s cross, in the main tops, being visible
-to the dismayed French over in the port; and firing from our ships was
-instantly commenced. Whilst these operations were going on, we find
-Buckingham writing to Secretary Nicholas, desiring that victuals may be
-sent after them with all possible speed; and, above all, to take care
-that the fleet be furnished out of hand with London beer; “the beer from
-Portsmouth,” adds the Lord-Admiral, “proves naught, and the soldier is
-better satisfied with his beer, if it is good, than with his
-victuals.”[47] At first the Duke’s expedition was attended with success;
-a landing at St. Martin’s point, opposite to Rochelle roads, was
-effected, and the French, who attacked the invaders, were driven back
-with considerable slaughter. On the 14th of July the troops advanced
-inland, and took the small fort of St. Marie, and the town of La Flotte;
-on the eighteenth they gained possession of the town of St. Martin’s.
-Great praises of the Duke’s valour were transmitted to England, by a
-writer who penned his epistle on a drum’s head, near St. Martin’s. The
-forces then beleaguered the fort, erecting a battery of twenty-one
-pieces of “ordnance.” “The Lord-General,” wrote Sir Allen Apsley, “is
-the most industrious, and in all business one of the first in person in
-dangers. Last night the enemy’s ordnance played upon his lodging, and
-one shot lighted upon his bed, but did him no harm.”[48] “Unluckily,”
-adds the same writer, “there was no bread and beer thought of for the
-soldiers--wheat instead of bread, and wine instead of beer.”
-
-Footnote 47:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxi., No. 43.
-
-Footnote 48:
-
- Ibid., No. 36.
-
-There appeared every prospect of a long siege, unless reinforcements
-from England should arrive to strengthen the Duke’s efficiency. Whilst
-the fort held out, the citizens of La Rochelle knew not which side to
-take. The Duke, every writer from St. Martin’s agreed, behaved in the
-most admirable manner, shewing qualities which no one suspected him of
-possessing. “His care is infinite, his courage undauntable, his patience
-and continual labours beyond what could have been expected.” Such was
-the language of one of Secretary Conway’s correspondents. “Himself,”
-continues this writer, “views the grounds, goes to the trenches, visits
-the batteries, observes where the shell doth light, and what effects it
-works.”[49] The greatest vigilance was indeed necessary, owing to the
-carelessness of some of the officers; there was no one of any great
-capacity except the Duke and Sir John Burgh--a brave but rough soldier,
-whose plain speaking was often offensive to Buckingham. His chief
-adviser in military affairs was Monsieur Dulbier, a man of great
-experience, but devoid of any striking talents.[50]
-
-Footnote 49:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxii., No 18.
-
-Footnote 50:
-
- Ibid.
-
-Meantime the poverty of the Treasury at home impeded the speedy supplies
-for which Buckingham incessantly wrote. It was his urgent necessity that
-stimulated the unjust and extortionate collection of the loan--in
-default of contributions to which imprisonment was the instant
-punishment. Several Frenchmen, also, were about this time committed for
-trying to allure Sir Sackville Crowe’s workmen into France to cast
-ordnance.[51]
-
-Footnote 51:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxii., No. 28.
-
-Disheartened by the delay of the supplies, Buckingham wrote word that he
-was making trenches, but, owing to the stony nature of the ground, they
-went on slowly, whilst the Fleet was dispersed round the Island of Rhé;
-so that unless some speedy succour came, the expedition could scarcely
-be benefited by anything that might be sent. The citadel, he considered,
-would be impregnable, if once the fortifications were perfected; in its
-present unfurnished state, the only way would be to take it by famine.
-Already thirty musketeers who had been sent out to get water had been
-captured. Toiras, the Governor, was likely “to make the place his
-death-bed.” The enemy were strong, and the siege would doubtless be a
-long one, but he was confident that the King would not let him want aid.
-By the advice of the Duc de Soubise, he had issued a proclamation,
-setting forth that the King’s intention was only to assist the
-Protestants.[52]
-
-Footnote 52:
-
- Ibid., No. 29.
-
-But the Protestants in La Rochelle unhappily refused the aid[53] of the
-ever-hated English. Louis XII. was ill; the court was divided into
-factions: and favourable terms were even offered the Huguenots, provided
-that they did not admit the English into the city.[54]
-
-Footnote 53:
-
- This letter is dated July 28, which contradicts Hume’s assertion that
- the Duke had given the Governor five days respite.--See Hume, Life of
- Charles I., 1627.
-
-Footnote 54:
-
- Brodie, vol. ii., p. 151.
-
-The Duke, during all this time of deep anxiety, attended religious
-service daily, and was, it is possible, the more inclined to have
-recourse to the One Source of help and safety, an attempt to assassinate
-him having been made whilst he was beleaguering Fort St. Martin. No
-impression was made upon the enemy, who were three thousand strong in
-garrison. Mines were resorted to; two water-pipes were cut off, and the
-besieged were driven out of their outworks; but Buckingham wrote word
-from the camp that his army, without a supply, would soon not only be
-disabled from continuing the siege, but would lose what they had
-gained.[55] His anxiety on this point was expressed in every letter, and
-in the most earnest terms, and it was fully responded to by Charles I.,
-but still a reinforcement of two thousand men which had been promised
-did not arrive. Money could not be raised, and the King was obliged to
-wait the issue of “three bargains” offered to him before he could send
-out either provisions or men.
-
-Footnote 55:
-
- State Papers, lxxii., No. 87 and 90.
-
-Nothing could be more vexatious than the position of the Duke. He was
-within a distance of what was then three or four days’ sail from
-England--his credit, his honour, perhaps his life, were staked on the
-relief of the Huguenot citizens of La Rochelle. Forty days,
-nevertheless, elapsed without even a message by fisher-boat reaching the
-famishing troops, “who were well supplied with wheat, but had neither
-means to grind, or ovens to bake it.”[56]
-
-Footnote 56:
-
- Letter from Sir Allen Apsley to Secretary Nicholas.
-
-It was not until the twenty-seventh of August, two calendar months since
-the expedition had sailed from Portsmouth,that arms, ammunition, and
-victuals were sent off by Nicholas--“honest Nicholas,” as the Duke used
-to call him; but no money came. Of that which was intended for the Duke,
-some was raised by his own stewards, but was detained on account of
-pressing claims in his own affairs. The want of money was almost
-distracting. Nothing could be extracted from the Lord Treasurer
-Middlesex; even at home the young Queen Henrietta Maria declared herself
-to be terribly incommoded for want of it.
-
-“Send us men,” was the burden of every letter from the camp; and a small
-contribution from a quarter little suspected of patriotism was the
-answer to this appeal--Lady Hatton furnishing six stalwart volunteers
-from Purbeck, clothed and armed from head to foot.[57]
-
-Footnote 57:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxv., No. 20.
-
-The Duke’s mother, too, after the manner of mothers, remitted him some
-money, and, at the same time sent him, as mothers do on such occasions,
-a reproving letter. But, unhappily, she who had implanted the lessons of
-worldly wisdom, and those alone, and whose whole life had been a
-commentary on those precepts, could not hope to influence her son for
-good. She indeed reaped as she had sown. One cannot, however, avoid
-pitying the alarm which was soon to be so fearfully realized by the
-events which succeeded the fatal enterprize.
-
-"MY DEERLY BELOVED SONNE--I am very sorrie you have entered into so
-great busines, and so little care to supply your wants as you see by the
-little hast that is mad to you. I hop your eys wil be oppened to se what
-a greate goulfe of businesses you have put your selfe into, and so
-little regarded at home, wher all is mery and well plesed, though the
-shepes be not vitiled as yet, nor mariners to go with them: as for
-monyis the kingdom will not supply your expences, and every man grones
-under the burden of the tymes. At your departuer from me, you tould me
-you went to make pece, but it was not from your hart: this is not the
-way for you to imbroule the hole christian world in warrs, and then to
-declare it for religion, and make God a partie to this wofull affare so
-far from God as light and darknes; and the high way to make all
-christian Princes to bend ther forces against us, that other ways in
-policie would have taken our parts. You knew the worthy King your
-master[58] never liked that way, and as far as I can perseve ther is non
-that crise not out of it. You that acknowleg the infinite mercy and
-providence of all mightie god in preserving your life amongest so many
-that false doune ded on every side you, and spares you for more honor to
-himself, if you would not be wilfully blind and overthro your selfe,
-body and soule, for he hath not I hope made y^u so great and gevin you
-so many exsellent parts as to suffer you to die in a dich,--let me that
-is your mother intreat you to spend some of your ouers in prayers, and
-meditating what is fitting and plesing in His sight that has done so
-much for you, and that honor you so much strive for: bend it for his
-honor and glorie, and you will sone find a chang so great that you would
-not for all the kinddomes in world for goe, if you might have them at
-your disposing: and do not think it out of fere and timberousnes of a
-woman I perswad you to this;--no, no, it is that I scorne. I would have
-you leve this bluddy way in which you are exept into, I am sure contray
-to your natuer and disposition. God hath blessed you with a vartuis wife
-and swet daughter, with an other sonne, I hope, if you do not distroy it
-by this way you take: she can not beleve a word you speke, you have so
-much deseved herselfe: she works carefully for you in sending monies
-with the supply that is now in coming, though slowly: it would have bene
-worse but for her. But now let me come to my selfe. If I had a world you
-should command it, and whatsoever I have ore shall have it: it is all
-yours by right, but, alas, I have layd out that mony I had, and mor by a
-thousand ponds, by your consent in bying of Gouldsmise Grang which I am
-very sory for now. I never dremed you should have neded any of my helpe,
-for if I had ther should have wanted all and my selfe before you. I hop
-this servant will bring us better newes of your resolutions then yett we
-here of; which I pray hartily for and give almass for you that it will
-pleas Allmighty God to deret your hart the best way to his honor and
-glorie. I am ever
-
- “your most loving affectionat sad Mother,
- “M. BUCKINGHAM.
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham.”[59]
-
-Footnote 58:
-
- King James.
-
-Footnote 59:
-
- Vol. lxxv., No. 22, State Paper Office, Conway Papers.
-
-Very different was the style in which the affectionate-hearted Duchess
-thus addressed him. The characters of these two women are singularly
-contrasted in these letters:--
-
-"MY DERE LORD--Already do I begine to thinke what a longe time I shall
-live without seeing you: truly there can be no greater affliction to me
-in the world than your absences, and I confese you have layd a very
-harde comand upon me in biding me be merey now in y absences, but I will
-assure yo nothing can be harde to me when I know I pleas you in the
-doing of it, thoughe outherways it would be:--remember your promis to
-me, but do not deseve me, for now I believe any thinge you saye, and
-love me only still, for it is impossible for woman to love mane more
-than I do you, and you have left me very well satisfied w^{th} you. _My_
-Lord, I have sent you a letter which I beseech you give to the
-Commissioner about my sister Wasington’s deat, because without that my
-Lord Savage can do nothing, and the touther is a warrant to Oliver for
-the allowances you give her, w^{ch} he refuses to paye w^{th} out
-one:--good my Lord, dispatch Dicke Turpin, and I shall thinke myself
-infinitely obliged to you for it. I am very well, I thanke God: you
-shall be sure to heare often, and do not forget to right often to me and
-remember your promis, thus wishing you all happynes, I rest, your trewe
-loving and obedent wife,
-
- "K. BUCKINGHAM.
-
-"Pray remember my duty to my Father.
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham.”[60]
-
-Footnote 60:
-
- Vol. lxvii., No. 60, Conway Papers.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
-THE DELAY IN SENDING PROVISIONS--THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF REDUCING THE
- CITADEL BY FAMINE--THE DUKE’S OWN MEANS WERE EMBARKED IN THE
- CAUSE--SIR JOHN BURGH--HIS DEATH--LETTER OF SIR EDWARD CONWAY TO HIS
- FATHER--BUCKINGHAM’S SANGUINE NATURE--EFFORTS OF SIR EDWARD
- NICHOLAS.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
-
-In spite of incessant appeals to the authorities at home, the end of
-August arrived, and no provisions were received at the camp. The Duke
-then addressed Sir William Becher, enclosing a letter to be shewn to the
-King, stating that, if provisions did not arrive within twenty days, it
-would be impossible to detain the mariners at Rhé. Provisions, the Duke
-said, were getting low; and the cannon did little harm to the citadel,
-which would only be subdued by famine.[61] All seemed of no avail.
-“Everything,” as Sir William Becher complained to Nicholas, “seemed to
-go backwards.” Even the Duke’s own money, which he had wished to advance
-to the victuallers, was still kept back by his stewards; and six hundred
-quarters of wheat belonging to him, which he had left at Portsmouth as a
-supply, were still in that seaport. One cannot help echoing the
-exclamation of Sir Edward Conway, in writing to his father, General
-Conway--“If we lose this island it shall be your faults in England!”
-Every letter, meantime, spoke of the carelessness of life shown by the
-Duke, of the sanguine nature that encouraged others, and of his great
-affection to the King, and to the cause he had undertaken.[62] The
-difficulties which were encountered in getting provisions together are
-almost inconceivable at the present day: the merchants refused to supply
-anything that would not yield them fifteen per cent; but at last, Sir
-Edward Nicholas prevailed with some Bristol speculators, his friends, to
-send provisions, on condition that their men should not be pressed into
-the service, and that the vessels should be laden with salt.[63] This
-aid was, indeed, timely, for the troops were beginning to consider
-themselves neglected and forgotten by their country.[64] And a great
-loss contributed to the general dejection. Sir John Burgh, the brave
-though uncourtly officer who had quarrelled with the Duke, was shot
-through the body in the trenches, and killed. Sir Edward Conway, writing
-to his father, thus simply, and as a true soldier, remarks, that “the
-sorrow of the Duke, and the honours he doth in his burial, are
-sufficient encouragements to dying.” “There was some difference” he
-adds, “between Burgh and the Duke, through some inconsiderate words, on
-the part of former, which were by the Duke so freely forgiven,” and
-through these Conway thought “an honest man and the Duke could not be
-enemies.” By Buckingham’s orders the old general’s remains were sent
-home, to be interred in Westminster Abbey. “The army,” the same writer
-relates, “grows daily weaker--purses are empty, ammunition consumes,
-winter grows, their enemies increase in number and power, and they hear
-nothing from England.”[65] At length, on the twenty-first of September a
-letter[66] came from one of Buckingham’s friends, Sir Robert Pye, who,
-whilst declaring that the reinforcements were in great forwardness,
-begged of the Duke to “consider the end,” and to reflect on the
-exhausted state of the revenue, which was forestalled, he states, for
-three years; much land had been sold, all credit lost, and Government
-was at the utmost shift with the commonwealth. “Would that I did not
-know so much as I do,” added the courtier. Deputy-Lieutenants were
-supine, and Justices of the Peace of the better sort willing to be put
-out of the commission:--every man “doubting and providing for the
-worst,” so that all were in a sort of panic. All these discomforts were
-ascribed to the loan, and the loan was the consequence of the projected
-war with France and Spain. Too late did Charles, who had hitherto left
-everything to the Duke, “knit his soul unto business,” and endeavour to
-provide for the fruitless contest.
-
-Footnote 61:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxv., No. 53 and 57.
-
-Footnote 62:
-
- State Papers, 26.
-
-Footnote 63:
-
- Ibid., 34.
-
-Footnote 64:
-
- Ibid., lviiii., 65.
-
-Footnote 65:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxviii., No. 71.
-
-Footnote 66:
-
- Edward Conway was the eldest son of the first Baron Conway of Rugby,
- in the County of Warwick, and succeeded his father, an eminent and
- popular Minister under James I. and Charles I.--_Burke’s Extinct
- Peerage._
-
-The month of October proved even more disastrous to the English than
-September. Hopes were entertained of a surrender. Two gentlemen from the
-citadel came to treat of surrendering; and, after trying to make
-conditions, asked leave till the next day to consider them. The night
-was dark and stormy; notice was given of the approach of an enemy; the
-Duke put out to sea himself, but the barques took a wrong direction, and
-the enemy’s fleet of thirty-five barques broke through that of the
-English, and the Admiral of the Fleet was taken prisoner. Fourteen or
-fifteen of the enemy’s barques, however, furnished with a month’s
-provisions, got through to the citadel, which was thus relieved. On
-account of the sickness produced by the immoderate eating of grapes, and
-also considering the uncertainty of supplies from England, there were
-many of the Colonels who now recommended retiring from before Rhé; and
-so discouraged was the Duke at this failure, that he was on the point of
-going back to England, when an offer from the citizens of La Rochelle to
-take a thousand sick into their town, and to send to the camp five
-hundred men with provisions, encouraged him to wait for reinforcements.
-
-On this incident the fortune of the whole siege seemed to hinge, and it
-must have been extremely tantalizing, when the citadel was on the very
-eve of surrendering, to find that relief had been poured into it by the
-enemy. No one could imagine how it had been managed. There was a nightly
-watch of six hundred boats; the Duke was generally among the men in
-these boats, or in the trenches, till near midnight; even the common
-sailors pitied his exertions, and felt for his anxieties. Then there was
-a battery of seven cannon, that fired upon the very landing-place,
-beneath the Fort, besides sunken collies that played on the same spot.
-The wind was then fair for Rhé, and the merchant ships that had been
-hired were making for the Island; but the others were detained, since no
-supplies from England had arrived to enable them to act. In the midst of
-all his uncertainties the following letter from the Duchess was
-despatched to the Duke:--
-
-"MY LORD--I ded the last night here very good nwse that you had taken
-the ships w^{ch} cam to releve the fort, which I hope will so much
-discurage them as now they will be out of all hope, and quickly yeelde
-it upe, and then I hope you will remember your promise in making hast
-home, for I will assure you both for the publicke, and our private good
-here in cort, ther is great neede of you, for your great Lady,[67] that
-you believe is so much your frend, uses your frends something worse then
-when you were here, and your favour has made her so great as now shee
-cares for nobody: and poore Gordon is the basist used that ever any
-creature was, for now you ar not here to take his part they do flie most
-fercly uppon him, but when you com I hope all things will be mended. I
-pray say nothing of this, and be sure to burne this leter when you have
-rede it. I thanke God I am very well. Mall is very well, I thanke God. I
-thanke you for the orange water you sent me, but yett I dare not us it
-coming from the Governor,[68] thus praying for your health, in hast, I
-rest
-
- “your trewe loving and obedent wife,
- “K. BUCKINGHAM.
-
-“10th Octr.”
-
-1627(?)--(_on the back of the original letter in pencil._)
-
-Footnote 67:
-
- Probably Lady Hatton.
-
-Footnote 68:
-
- The Governor of La Rochelle, whom the Duchess seems to have
- mistrusted.
-
-Whilst money was thus called for in vain, to carry on the war, the
-defences at home were daily becoming more and more ruinous. The castles
-in the Downs were in danger of being swallowed by the sea: and water got
-into the moat of Deal Castle; the Lanthorn of that fort was wholly
-destroyed, the loss of which, being a sea-mark, was a source of bitter
-complaint; Walmer Castle was in ruins.[69] Friends there were who wrote
-to Buckingham to urge strongly on his attention all that was threatening
-the country, and to suggest his return; amongst these the Viscount
-Wilmot[70] was one whose expressions were modified by great kindness,
-and evident partiality for the Duke; whilst advice came less graciously
-from Viscount Wimbledon, whose recent failure must have rendered his
-comments on the affair far from palatable.
-
-Footnote 69:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxv., No. 7.
-
-Footnote 70:
-
- Viscount Wilmot of Athlone, here referred to, was the grandfather of
- John Wilmot, the dissolute, yet penitent, Earl of Rochester, whose
- death has been described by Bishop Burnet.
-
-Before his letter of suggestion and advice could have arrived,
-Buckingham had, however, consented to a retreat. The state of despair
-into which his troops had been thrown by the reinforcement of the
-citadel, and their discovery of the false representations of the amount
-of provisions on which the besieged could count, induced him to take
-this fatal step. Presently, however, better information was obtained;
-and though the sick had been sent into La Rochelle, and the ordnance
-embarked, the vacillating Duke again determined to “stay and bide it
-out.”
-
-In the midst of this perplexity, on the fifteenth of October, a valuable
-auxiliary was sent in the person of Charles, Viscount Wilmot.[71] Lord
-Holland also set sail, but the Duke now found it difficult to persuade
-the men to await the long promised assistance. “Pity our misery!” was
-their cry. The people were “looking themselves and their perspectives”
-(as telescopes were then styled) “blind in watching for Lord Holland
-from the tops of houses;” yet that nobleman lingered at Portsmouth,
-pretending to believe that Buckingham, who, he said, he knew “would stay
-till the last _bite_,” might be supplied with victuals from the west.
-Then he feared also, as he stated, that the Duke might have sailed
-towards home; that he was ill supplied with provisions; and that he
-might be obliged to put back into France or Spain. The King, meantime,
-was wondering and asking why Holland lingered first at Portsmouth and
-then in the Downs? Charles’s impatience was expressed with a force
-unusual to his gentle character. Until the eighteenth of October, no one
-in England, it appears, knew of the great distress into which Buckingham
-and the forces were plunged by the failure of the supplies.[72]
-
-Footnote 71:
-
- Letter from Viscount Wilmot to Secretary Conway, State Papers, vol.
- lxxx. No. 55.
-
-Footnote 72:
-
- State Papers, lxxxii., vol. 18.
-
-Whilst the wind was against the Duke’s return, no one could suppose that
-he would throw up the whole end of the expedition, and sail homewards;
-yet reports of his preparing to do so continually got abroad, as may be
-seen from the following letters from the Countess of Denbigh,
-Buckingham’s only sister, by whom he was much beloved:--
-
-“MOUST DEERE BROTHER--I hope these nue supplys will give you such
-advantage to you, that your busines will be ended to your honer and
-contentment. I pray be not be to hasty to ingage your selfe in any other
-afares till you see howe you shall be supplyed. I would you could but
-see our afares here: wee ar sometymes for Ware, some tymes a showe of
-Peace: poor I must be patiend: I have much to speeke to lett you knowe
-of all particulars, but I am a bad relater of thinges. I will promis you
-to play my part in patience, and when you com you well not be lede away
-with them that doth not love you, and be false to you and all yours. I
-pray God to bles you: forgit not to rede of the booke I gave you, and if
-you will take phisick this fall of the leafe you shall do very well, so
-I take my leave.
-
- “your loving sister,
- “20th Octr. 1627. SU. DENBIGH.” [73]
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham.”
-
-Footnote 73:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxii. 39.
-
-“MOUST DEERE BROTHER--I hope you will be sure of supplyes before you
-undertake to go to Rocchell, for ether ther hath beene some grate
-mistake or neglicte: that you [should have beene] in any distrecs,
-it doth grefe my very hart and sole. I heare you have beene in great
-wantes, but I hope before this you are released. I pray be not to
-venterus, and I hope you well not forgit the booke I gave you, to
-looke over it often, at the leaste morning and evening, so with my
-best love, I take my leave.
-
- “your loveing sister,
- “26th Octr. 1627. SU. DENBIGH.”
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham, my deere Brother.”[74]
-
-Footnote 74:
-
- Vol. lxxxiii, No. 3.
-
-It must have been peculiarly aggravating, amidst the anxieties of
-the Duchess and Lady Denbigh, to find that all the Duke’s
-perplexities, privations, and sufferings had not in the slightest
-degree mitigated his unpopularity at home. It must have been still
-more irritating to know that, whilst the troops before St. Martin’s
-Fort were in a state of starvation, there was the greatest disorder
-and carelessness in sending the supplies. “There is,” Lord Wilmot
-wrote to Conway, “neither commissary of victuals, nor any one to
-give account of arms. They find one thousand muskets, but no pikes
-nor armour.” Meantime the Duke’s army were in want of clothes, and
-mostly went barefoot.[75] Then Lord Holland, when at last on board
-the fleet, complained that there was no one officer or creature who
-could tell what there was aboard the provision ships, five of which
-were Dutch, and might steal away at any moment. There seems to have
-been neither patriotism at home, in regard to this expedition, nor
-honour in allies, nor even common honesty in the commanders of hired
-vessels.
-
-Footnote 75:
-
- Letter from Lord Wilmot to Secretary Conway, State Papers, No. 45.
-
-For several days the wind continued contrary to Lord Holland’s
-departure from Plymouth. The twenty-sixth of October had arrived,
-and the Duke, as it appeared from private letters, had "stayed it
-out till the last bit of bread:"--such is the expression of John
-Ashburnham, a devoted partisan of Buckingham’s: fears were even
-entertained that the fleet and army were lost; then “such a rotten,
-miserable fleet set out to sea as no man ever saw;” “our enemies,”
-Ashburnham adds, “seeing it, may scoff at our nation.” Lord Holland,
-who had been expected by the Duke on the fifteenth, was still
-waiting for a fair wind at Plymouth on the twenty-seventh,[76]
-employing himself there in trying to expedite recruits, and to send
-out a Scottish regiment. “In his responsibility” (as he wrote to the
-King) "he had provided two or three hundred live sheep, to go out
-for the sick men, who die for want of fresh meat;"--“three thousand
-pairs of stockings for the men in the trenches; physic also, and an
-apothecary.” Despair, however, possessed all minds; and a report now
-began to disquiet even the sanguine, stating that the French were
-landing an army on the Island of Rhé. The report was true; one fatal
-mistake had been made by Buckingham--he had left the fort of St. Pré
-unmolested.
-
-Footnote 76:
-
- State Papers, No. 3 and 8.
-
-This castle, seated, as its name bespeaks, in a meadow, had appeared
-too paltry a conquest to the sanguine and impetuous Buckingham, when
-he had first landed at Rhé. He had passed it untouched, but it was
-now well garrisoned with French troops from the mainland; still its
-importance was not fully comprehended until the fatal moment came
-for a retreat from before Fort St. Martin. It is evident that the
-Duke had overlooked that which should have been a preliminary step
-in his march; and that his attention had been distracted by an
-undertaking too arduous for a man whose life had been passed in a
-very different battle-field from that on which he now ventured his
-fortunes. Hitherto, he had been a mere civilian, knowing nothing of
-war, but in the Tourney--nothing of nautical matters, but in
-gala-vessels, or some favourite ship; and little of the sea, but on
-maps. Well might his mother caution him not to engage in too “great
-business;” it was not, in his case, an idle warning, but desperation
-had impelled him to make the fatal experiment of being at once
-General and Admiral in a contest with warriors so perfect as the
-French. Had he been reinforced in good time,--had the measures at
-home been directed by energy, or even by good faith merely---the
-events which so overclouded his later actions with a shade of shame
-might not have happened. From the moment when the French occupied
-the Fort St. Pré, the game was, however, virtually lost.
-
-Meantime, Charles I., it is manifest from his letters to Lord
-Holland, was beginning to be seriously displeased with the
-negligence of the Commissariat Department. He was also desirous of
-impressing Lord Holland, not only with the great importance of the
-result of the expedition, but likewise of his anxiety for the safety
-of the Duke, “to whom,” the King writes, “whosoever does the best
-service is the most happy, be it for life or death.”[77]
-
-Footnote 77:
-
- State Papers,--Letter of Secretary Conway to the Earl of Holland,
- vol. lxxxiii., No. 12.
-
-So late as the latter end of October, Buckingham was resolved either
-to stay in the island if supplies came,--or, if they did not arrive,
-to put himself and the army into La Rochelle, and “run their
-fortune.”[78] This was his last resolution. At one time he had fully
-determined on leaving, for some of his soldiers were barefooted:
-others were sick of the siege, and had neither bread, meat, nor
-beer; but the Duc de Soubise had re-assured him, and, promising
-eight hundred men from La Rochelle, had encouraged Buckingham to
-decide on scaling the Fort St. Martin.[79] Meantime, Lord Holland
-did not appear: he was still at Plymouth. Contrary to the advice of
-the mariners, he had forced the whole fleet out of the Catwaters
-into Plymouth Sound; but it was driven back by the “cruellest
-storms” of twenty hours’ duration that had ever been known. Great
-damage was done: it was now necessary to stay to repair the crazy
-ships--the wind, as Lord Wilmot expressed it, “did so overblow.” The
-violence of the elements, and the knavery or indifference of man,
-seemed combined to keep back aid from the hungry soldiers in the
-Island of Rhé, and to ruin their general.
-
-Footnote 78:
-
- Ibid., No. 17.
-
-Footnote 79:
-
- Ibid., No. 27.
-
-Perhaps the best, or, as many persons think, the only excuse for
-Buckingham in the step he eventually took, is contained in a
-touching letter from Sir Allen Apsley to “Honest Nicholas.” Apsley,
-described in one of the letters from the camp as “very sick and
-melancholy,” dates his letter “from his sick and lately senseless
-bed on board the Nonsuch.”[80] “No man,” he begins by saying, “has
-he more cause more faithfully and more affectionately to love than
-Nicholas.” “His soul melts with tears to think that a State should
-send so many men, and no provision at all for them. But for
-Nicholas’s provision, through merchants, they had been miserably
-starved long since.” He then goes on to relate that “there were
-about five thousand seamen and four thousand landsmen in great
-distress for meat and drink. The army had already lost four thousand
-men, and all their commanders.”
-
-Footnote 80:
-
- State Papers. The letter is dated Nov. 1, 1627. Vol. lxxxiv., No.
- 1.
-
-A sort of responsive testimony to the Duke’s sufferings, and to the
-cruel neglect of the authorities at home, is conveyed in a letter
-from William, Earl of Exeter, to Buckingham. “What cannot be
-obtained by your courage,” writes the descendant of the great
-Burleigh, “must in the end be submitted to your patience.” If the
-Duke “sowed onions, he would be sure of onions; if he sowed men,
-they are in danger, for the most part, to come up ingrates.” “The
-indolence,” he adds, “which his highness has cause to resent, is as
-great infidelity as is that of commission.” Then he cites examples
-of great generals, who, without loss of honour, abandoned
-enterprizes which could not be accomplished; what the Duke had
-already done was, he said, “miraculous.”[81]
-
-Footnote 81:
-
- State Papers, Ibid., Nov. 16. Dated London, Nov. 3.
-
-Neither did the Duke receive any encouragement to remain, even from
-one of his best friends, Sir George Goring, the faithful adherent in
-the great rebellion of Charles I.[82] Goring had, in a former
-letter, represented to the Duke how futile would be any dependence
-on supplies; for the “City,” he wrote, “whence all present money
-must now be raised, is so infected by the malignant part of this
-kingdom, that no man will lend any money upon any security, if they
-think it will go the way of the Court, which is now made diverse
-from the State--such is the present distemper.” The King, it was
-said, might choose to break all his bonds, “and then, when should
-they be paid?” Under these circumstances, Goring strongly advised
-the Duke to return home, and “to curb the insolence of the French
-some other way.”[83]
-
-Footnote 82:
-
- He was afterwards successively Baron Goring and Earl of Norwich;
- his son, General Goring, whose character is so ably drawn by
- Clarendon, pre-deceased his father by two years; both titles
- became extinct in 1672.--_Burke’s Extinct Peerage._
-
-Footnote 83:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxiv., No. 20.
-
-On the very day on which this letter was written, a newsletter,
-dated on board the Triumph, in the Road of Rhé, announced that the
-embarkation of the troops had already taken place. La Rochelle had
-by that time been completely blockaded by the French--too late it
-had declared for the English. For the safety of that city it was
-essential that Buckingham should remain; but, although he has been
-almost universally condemned for retiring, it is evident that the
-want of provisions, and the delay of reinforcements from England,
-extenuate, if they do not wholly justify, that step. He had now been
-expecting Lord Holland’s arrival for nearly a fortnight, and Lord
-Holland was still at Teignmouth--having been again driven back by
-contrary winds.[84]
-
-Footnote 84:
-
- Nov. 6.
-
-During all this time, no words could describe all the distress of
-mind suffered by Buckingham better than those of his biographer and
-attached adherent, Sir Henry Wotton. “In his countenance, which is
-the part that all eyes interpret, no open alteration,” even after
-his reverses, could be detected, but the suppressed feelings were
-the more poignant for that disguise.
-
-“For certain it is,” adds Sir Henry, “that to his often-mentioned
-secretary, Dr. Mason, whom he had in pallet near him, for natural
-ventilation of all his thoughts, he broke out into passionate
-expressions of anguish, declaring, in the absence of all other ears
-and eyes, ‘that never his dispatches to divers princes, nor the
-great business of a fleet, of an army, of a siege, of a treaty, of
-war, of peace, both on foot together, and all of them in his head at
-a time, did not so much trouble his repose as a conceit that some at
-home, under His Majesty, of whom he had well deserved, were now
-content to forget him.’”[85]
-
-Footnote 85:
-
- Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 227.
-
-Wotton partly ascribes the Duke’s failure to one cause--an
-improvident confidence, brought with him from a Court where fortune
-had never deceived him. Besides, he adds, “We must consider him yet
-but rude in the profession of arms, though greatly of honour, and
-zealous in the cause.”
-
-By others he is considered to have committed an error in not having
-first attacked the Isle of Oléron, which was not only weakly
-garrisoned, but well supplied with wine and oil, and other
-provisions. But his great mistakes arose from his impulsive
-nature--a disposition often the concomitant of energy. Without
-waiting for the advice of Soubise, he had invested St. Martin’s; in
-marching to St. Martin’s, he had overlooked the Meadow Castle, as
-St. Pré was called by his soldiers; and that fort was now the chief
-impediment to his retreat.
-
-Having been urged in vain by Soubise to remain, Buckingham aimed one
-last blow. He attempted to storm Fort St. Martin. He was perhaps
-incited to this rash and fruitless act by the taunting conduct of
-the besieged, who, knowing that he intended to starve them into
-submission, hung provisions on the walls. No breach was made, and
-the assault had no other result than the loss of soldiers. A retreat
-was then decided on. The forces could not now return by St. Pré, and
-a new route was to be taken. A causeway amid deep salt-marches was
-their only choice; and this causeway, or mound, was terminated by a
-bridge that joined to Rhé the second island of Vié. Here no fort to
-protect the bridge had been erected, and there was therefore no
-passage over to Vié. The French had all this time been close in
-pursuit. Buckingham was in the rear, and, as a contemporary
-observed, “had like to have been snapped,”[86] if he had not ridden
-through the troops on the narrow causeway, where more than eight or
-ten could not ride abreast. It was not until the English had reached
-the Island of Vié that the French chose to attack them; then the
-delay of forming a bridge gave the pursuers time to make their onset
-with an advantage they could not have had on the causeway, where a
-handful of men might have set at defiance a host. The French drove
-the English horse on Sir Charles Birch’s regiment of foot, and both
-he and Sir John Radcliffe were killed. A hot skirmish ensued. “Our
-men,” says a newsletter, “spoiled one another, and more were drowned
-than slain. The Duke was the last man in the rear, and carried
-himself beyond expression bravely.”[87] Ultimately the bridge was
-made good, and on the following day the embarkation of the
-crest-fallen English was safely effected. Buckingham was of course
-blamed by one faction, and excused by the other, for this failure.
-Denzil, afterwards Lord Holles, the great leader of the Presbyterian
-party, a man who, during his whole life, never changed sides,
-censured him in forcible terms, quoting the words of one whom he
-styles “a prophet of their own sides,” in saying that the enterprize
-was “ill begun, badly carried on, and the result accordingly most
-lamentable.” “It was a thousand to one,” Holles adds, “that all our
-ships had not been lost.” Ten days’ provision alone remained; when
-that was exhausted the Duke must have submitted to the enemy.[88] No
-one disputed Buckingham’s courage; he brought back, as Hume
-expresses it, “the vulgar praise of courage and personal bravery.”
-He was justly, nevertheless, condemned for the risk he ran in the
-retreat; for, it was said, had the General been lost, what would
-have become of the troops, who had retreated in disorder?
-
-Footnote 86:
-
- Letter of Denzil Holles to Sir Thomas Wentworth. Strafford
- Letters, vol. i., p. 42.
-
-Footnote 87:
-
- News Letter, State Papers, Ibid., No. 24.
-
-Footnote 88:
-
- Strafford Letters.
-
-The letters in the State-Paper Office, to which reference has been
-made, though they do not refute the charge that the enterprize was
-“ill begun,” exonerate Buckingham, nevertheless, from much blame: he
-had every reason to expect reinforcements, for which he was
-continually begging; no Commander-in-Chief was ever left in a
-predicament more cruel; and he was justified in retiring by the
-certainty that provisions must soon fail, and the uncertainty of any
-fresh supply from the tardy and corrupt authorities at home.
-
-The confusion in the retreat was stated to be such that “no man,”
-Denzil Holles wrote, “can tell what was done, nor no account can be
-given how any man was lost--not the lieutenant-colonel how his
-colonel, nor lieutenant how his captain, which was a sign that
-things were ill carried.” “This every man alone knows--that since
-England was England, it received not so dishonourable a blow.”
-
-The loss was indeed severe; thirty standards had been taken, but
-more lost; four colonels killed, and about two thousand of our men
-perished during the retreat.
-
-On the tenth of November the fleet left Rhé, and on the twelfth it
-was seen in Portsmouth Roads, Buckingham’s ship, the Triumph, being
-distinguished. The Duke, however, who was returning home under such
-painful circumstances, was not in that vessel. As the fleet neared
-Plymouth, he quitted his ship, and, getting into a ketch, went into
-the port, in order to gather some account why the succours so long
-expected at St. Martin’s had never arrived. He had also another step
-to take--that of sending off an immediate despatch to the King, in
-order that His Majesty might be apprized by himself alone of the
-great loss and failure incurred in the attempt on Rhé. The messenger
-was sworn, on forfeiture of his head, to secrecy.[89]
-
-Footnote 89:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxv., No. 56 and 57.
-
-“Charles received the news,” Conway wrote, in reply, “with the
-wisdom, courage, and constancy of a great king, and has declared so
-much kingly justice and goodness, with affection, to the Duke, as
-renders his grace, in the king’s judgment, and in the opinion of all
-those who heard him, clear from all imputation, and honoured by his
-actions: all guiltiness remaining upon this State for whatsoever
-fault or misconduct is come to that army.” Considering the delay in
-sending succour, the event was thought to have been better than
-could have been expected.[90]
-
-Footnote 90:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxv., No. 67.
-
-A letter soon followed from Sir Edward Nicholas, informing the Duke
-that, six weeks ago, the state of provisions at Rhé was mentioned to
-the King and the Lords, “but was not credited.” He recommended his
-patron to do nothing until after his arrival in London: all things
-were at a stand, he says, until the Duke should give them “life and
-direction.” Secretary Conway, in a letter to his son, even “joyed”
-to find so few had been killed, and so little, “in point of honour,”
-lost, taking the greatest loss to be in the quality of some half
-dozen persons.[91]
-
-Footnote 91:
-
- Ibid., No. 74.
-
-Three days after the Duke had landed at Plymouth, the Duchess wrote
-to him:--
-
-"MY LORD--Sence I hurd the newse of thy landing I have bine still
-every hower looking for you, that I cannot now till I see you sleepe
-in the nights, for every minite, if I do here any noyes, I think it
-is on from you, to tell me the happy newes what day I shall see you,
-for I confese I longe for it w^{th} much imptience. I was in great
-hope that the bisnes you had to do at Portsmouth wood a bine don in
-a day, and then I should a seene you here to-morrow, but now I
-cannot tell when to expect you. My Lord, there has bine such ill
-reports made of the great lose you have had by the man that came
-furst, as your frends desiers you wood com to clere all w^{th} all
-speede: you may leve some of the Lords there to se what you give
-order for don, and you need not stay yourself any longer:--this,
-beseeching you to com hether on Sunday or Munday w^{th}out all
-fayle. I rest yours,
-
- “true loving and obedent wife,
- “K. BUCKINGHAM.
-
-"Mr. Maule desires you to com to the King, though you stay but on
-night, for they were never so busie as now.
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham.”[92]
-
-Footnote 92:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxvi., No. 80.
-
-Many were the welcomes offered to the Duke on his return. Henry,
-Earl of Manchester, “hoped that God had preserved him to add to his
-honour;” and begged him not to be discouraged, for no captain nor
-general could play his part better; Sir James Bagge declared that
-the Duke was “dearer to him than children, wife, or life;” and Mr.
-Mohun and Sir Bernard Granville “will put down their lives and
-fortunes,” they wrote, “at the Duke’s feet.”[93]
-
-Footnote 93:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxxxvi., No. 93.
-
-It seems, however,from the following letter--half reproachful, yet
-ever affectionate--that some time passed before the Duke saw his
-wife, and that even then he had thoughts of returning to Rhé:--
-
-"MY DERE LORD--I was in great hope by on of your leters that I
-should a hade the happynes to a sene you this weeke, but sences I
-have not had it confirmed by any more, and in this I received by my
-lady’s mane I was in hope wood a tould me sartanly when I should a
-had the happnes to a sene you, but your leter not saying on worde
-makes me begine now to fere that you have but deceived me all this
-whill in giving me assurances that you deed not, and now I begine to
-be much greeved that you wood not a tould me the truth; but yet I
-cannot absolutly dispare, because I hope you will yett be as good as
-your word, for I confese, if you should go, I should not have a
-stout hart. My Lord, these too cusens of yours desires you to accept
-of there servis, and lett them go w^{th} you, for thay had rather
-venter ther lives w^{th} you than stay behind, but I hope you will
-put them in some way for ther advancement, for thay deserve very
-well, and I hope will till the last. I am very well, I thanke God,
-and ever
-
- “your trewe loving and obedent wife,
- “K. BUCKINGHAM.[94]
-
-“To the Duke of Buckingham.”
-
-Footnote 94:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxvii., No. 96--Conway Papers.
-
-It is a terrible state when esteem and affection are opposed; for,
-in a woman’s heart the latter is sure to gain the ascendancy.
-Allowance must, however, be made for the Duke’s almost overwhelming
-occupations at this time, and for the harassed state of his mind,
-which prevented him writing to his wife.
-
-Upon arriving in Plymouth, Buckingham, however, experienced a
-greater act of friendship than any mere welcome in words. The
-warmest and most estimable of his friends was Sir George Goring, one
-of those true-hearted Cavaliers of whom Englishmen of every party
-may be truly proud. To Goring the Duke left, in some measure, the
-care of his mother, when he sailed for La Rochelle. Goring’s
-blessings had followed the Duke on his voyage. “My dearest Lord,”
-are the terms in which Goring addressed him; and he showed that he
-was, as he himself wrote, faithful in every point to him for whom he
-professed friendship.
-
-The incident which now occurred rests on the authority of Sir Henry
-Wotton, the long-trusted servant of James I., and the devoted
-adherent of Buckingham, by whose influence he had been made Provost
-of Eton.
-
-Scarcely had Buckingham set off from Plymouth, on his way to London,
-than a messenger, sent in haste from Goring, warned him not to take
-the usual road, for that his friend had authentic information that a
-design upon his life would be attempted on his journey. The Duke
-received the letter when on horseback, and, crushing it into his
-pocket, without the slightest sign of apprehension, rode on. He was
-attended by seven or eight gentlemen only; and they were merely
-provided with the swords they usually wore, and had no other means
-of defence. There was one among them, however, who was personally
-bound to the Duke by ties of kindness and affection; this was his
-nephew, the young Lord Fielding, the son of that sister who had wept
-when she saw that the Duke was not at chapel with the King. The most
-cordial union, indeed, existed between all the members of the
-Villiers’ family; and they were bound by gratitude as well as by
-affection to the Duke.
-
-The party rode on, when, about three miles from the town, they were
-stopped by an aged woman, who came out of a house on the road, and
-asked “whether the Duke were in the company?” Buckingham was pointed
-out to her; and she then, coming close up to his saddle, told him
-that in the very next town through which he was to pass she had
-heard some desperate men “vow his death;” she therefore advised him
-to take another road, which she offered to show him.
-
-This circumstance, added to the warning letter sent by Goring,
-greatly impressed those around the Duke; and they entreated him to
-take the old woman’s advice. But whether from his usual recklessness
-of consequences, or from an idea that his showing fear would provoke
-taunts from his enemies, does not appear; the Duke obstinately
-refused to comply. And yet this “strange accident,” as Wotton calls
-it, was the more remarkable, as it was a sort of prelude to his
-fate, and in itself was of importance to a man whose unpopularity
-before he left England was now, at his return, tenfold more general
-than it had ever been during his career.
-
-As they were disputing, the Duke still resolute, his young nephew,
-Fielding, went up to him, and entreated him to honour him by giving
-him his coat and the blue ribbon of the Garter, that he might wear
-them through the town; and he urged his request by pleading that the
-Duke’s life, in which the welfare of the whole family was concerned,
-was the most “precious thing under Heaven.” He declared that he
-could so muffle himself up in the Duke’s hood, in the way his uncle
-was accustomed to do in cold weather, that no one could fail to be
-deceived--so that, attention being withdrawn, the Duke would be able
-to defend himself.
-
-The Duke caught the noble-spirited youth in his arms, and kissed
-him. “Yet,” he said, “he would not accept that offer from a nephew
-whose life he valued as he did his own;” then rewarding the poor
-woman for her good-will to him, he gave orders to his retinue how to
-act in case of attack, and rode calmly onwards.
-
-Scarcely had he entered the town, when a half-drunken soldier caught
-hold of his bridle, as if he wanted to beg; instantly a gentleman of
-the Duke’s train, though at some distance, rode up, and, with a
-violent thrust, severed the man from the Duke, who, with the others,
-galloped quickly through the streets. Either from his usual
-indifference to danger, or fearing, as Sir Henry Wotton says, to
-“resent discontentments too deep” to be allayed, no notice was taken
-of this incident of Buckingham’s journey to London,[95] nor any
-inquiries made as to the projected assassination.
-
-Footnote 95:
-
- Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 230.
-
-On his return to Court, the king received him graciously; no change
-appeared in the outward demeanour of those who met him; but his
-horse regiment had been composed of the sons of the noblest families
-in the land, and smothered regrets for the loss of “such gallant
-gentlemen” were as prevalent amid the higher classes, as deep
-resentment was in the indignant and vehement lower orders of
-society.
-
-“The effects of this overthrow,” Lord Clarendon observes, “did not
-at first appear in whispers, murmurs, and invectives, as the retreat
-from Cadiz had done; but produced such a general consternation over
-the face of the whole nation, as if all the armies of France and
-Spain were united together, and had covered the land.”[96]
-
-Footnote 96:
-
- Clarendon, vol. i. p. 40-1.
-
-Charles was, however, resolved to see no fault in his favourite, to
-acknowledge no disgrace; with a confidence in the Duke that would
-have done honour to a private friendship, he wrote to him, saying,
-that with “whatever ill success he came, he should ever be
-welcome--one of his greatest griefs being that he was not with him
-in that time of trial, as they might have much eased each other’s
-griefs.” Adding, that the Duke “had gained, in his mind, as much
-reputation as if he had performed all his desires.”[97] The terms on
-which they stood towards each other were those of one young man
-towards another--his companion in pleasures and pursuits, his
-fellow-traveller, his confidant--not those existing between a
-sovereign and a trusted subject, amenable to public opinion.
-
-Footnote 97:
-
- State Papers, vol lxxxv., No. 10 and 11.
-
-The step which Buckingham took, on his arrival in London, was to ask
-immediately for a public audience with the King and Lords in
-Council. Then he plunged at once into the subject about which the
-country was in a ferment. He “delivered a clear account of the
-passages, descending even to the good and bold actions of private
-soldiers.” He extolled the patience of the army, and “the fair
-opportunity offered of turning their sufferings into glory, if their
-virtue had been seconded with the power and succours designed for
-it.” He named every officer in terms of great praise; and if both
-officers and men were sensible of “the honours and obligations done
-them by the Duke, they would,” Conway wrote, “live with their
-swords, or die with them in their hand, to pay him that duty.” The
-King, also, put the “right interpretation on the Duke’s actions.”
-This open way of forestalling criticism, and, perhaps, impeachment,
-was certainly as sagacious as it was fearless.
-
-The Duke, before leaving the coast, had provided carefully for the
-soldiers who were sick and wounded, and amongst whom a fearful
-infectious disease prevailed, so that those in whose houses men were
-billeted died of the same malady. A storm soon damaged fifteen or
-sixteen of those fated ships which had returned from Rhé: and such
-was the poverty of the State, that, so late as the fifth of January,
-1620, we find the sailors, who had deserved so much from their
-country, ill from want of clothes.[98] There was no money for their
-pay, which was in arrears; there arose, of course, a mutinous spirit
-among them. The sailors were so destitute of clothing, that they
-would not do their duty in their ships, and many fell dead into the
-harbours. Still money could not be raised, although every possible
-expedient to obtain it was employed by the King. Among others who
-supplied him was Sir Francis Crane, Garter King-at-Arms, to whom
-Charles gave certain royal manors for security, to the extent of
-seven thousand five hundred pounds.
-
-Footnote 98:
-
- State Papers, vol. xc., No. 5.
-
-The Court was now both dull and partially deserted; the beautiful
-masques of Ben Jonson were no longer called into requisition: they
-had been discontinued since 1626, and were not resumed until two
-years after Buckingham had ceased to exist; and the only diversion
-specified for the Christmas festivity of this, his last Christmas,
-was “a running masque,” to be performed on a Sunday, hastily got up,
-and of no particular note.[99]
-
-Footnote 99:
-
- State Papers, vol. xc., No. 10.
-
-Throughout the whole of the winter, the condition of the navy was
-the incessant theme of Buckingham’s various official correspondents.
-“Many of the men,” writes Sir Henry Mervyn, “for want of clothes,
-are so exposed to the weather, that their toes and feet miserably
-rot away piecemeal.” Yet a fresh expedition was, so early as the
-twelfth of January, in contemplation; and, hearing this, the French
-prisoners, to whom an allowance of eightpence a-day was given,
-refused to go back, as they said there would soon be a fleet fitted
-out for La Rochelle. Meanwhile news arrived of great naval
-preparations in France, and the sailing from Bordeaux of ships which
-were to be sunk in the Channel before La Rochelle.
-
-During all these troubles, and whilst a storm hovered over him, an
-heir was granted to the parents, who were anxious for the boon--and
-George, the second Duke of Buckingham, of the house of Villiers, was
-born. Owing to the death of his elder brother, Charles, when an
-infant, his birth was a source of great delight to the Duke and
-Duchess.[100] And great need was there for all that could solace the
-days that were now numbered. All that had been brilliant in the
-career of Buckingham had faded into gloom; the country was justly
-irritated by the measures which he had recommended--the war, the
-impressment of seamen, the scheme for granting to the King the
-tonnage and poundage for the Customs during Charles’s life--were
-subjects which kept all classes--some from anger, some from fear--in
-continual agitation. The impressment of seamen had formerly been
-applied only to the lower classes; but they had been taught by the
-higher orders, who had felt the burden of oppression themselves, to
-understand their condition and their rights, and a determined spirit
-of resistance ensued; yet it must, in justice, before we draw our
-conclusions, be remembered, that the Government was only indirectly
-responsible for the present shattered condition of the navy, and for
-the depth of misery into which the brave sailors had sunk.
-Generally, the great business of setting out ships had been charged
-on the port towns and neighbouring shires, but it was now too heavy
-a burden on them to bear. The Privy Council, therefore, cast up the
-whole charge of the fleet, which was prepared in February, 1628, and
-divided it among all the counties.[101]
-
-Footnote 100:
-
- This event took place on or before the 2nd of February, 1628 (when
- Sir John Hippisley wished “the Duke joy of his young son”), and
- not on the 30th of January, as is usually stated.
-
-Footnote 101:
-
- See State Papers, vol. xcii., No 88. The county of Anglesea was to
- be charged 111_l._; the money, as the King’s letter intimated, was
- to be paid before the 1st of March.
-
-Neither does it appear that there was in the expenses of the navy,
-even during the time of war, any extravagance. The error was in the
-original neglect of the maritime forces, and injustice to a noble
-profession; the ruin incident to total indifference to its
-maintenance during the reign of James I. Had not Buckingham, in a
-few brief years, done much towards its renovation, the naval power
-would have been almost extinct.
-
-Whilst at Rochelle, he had placed the affairs of the navy in the
-hands of commissioners. On the 28th of February (1681) the Council
-called for these commissioners, and gave them “the King’s thanks
-for past services, letting them know that it was his pleasure in
-these stirring times to use again the ancient offices of the
-Admiralty.”[102] The commissioners, on retiring, gave in their
-certificates, signed by the Duke as Lord Admiral, of the expenses
-of the navy, both ordinary and extraordinary, in harbours, and the
-ordinary at sea, containing six ships and four pinnaces, for the
-year 1628. It amounted to forty thousand, eight hundred, and
-seventy-six pounds, fourteen shillings and fourpence[103]--the
-rest of the fleet being supplied by merchants, and paid by local
-contributions. But the country was little disposed to view any
-point with leniency. Their grievances were, indeed, almost daily
-increasing; and whilst the landholders were impoverished, the loss
-of all commerce between England and France completely alienated
-the mercantile community from the Court.
-
-Footnote 102:
-
- State Papers, xciv., No. 57.
-
-Footnote 103:
-
- Ibid., 108.
-
-A Parliament was summoned. During the preceding year the Duchess of
-Buckingham had apprehended great danger to the Duke in allowing the
-commission of inquiry into the affairs of the navy to drop; and had
-expressed her fears that the abuses brought to light, and
-unremedied, might hereafter be laid on the Duke.[104] There had been
-no time then, in the hurry of the ill-starred expedition to
-Rochelle, to complete that inquiry; but the Duchess’s fears were
-indeed realized, when, after the Petition of Right had been passed
-by both Houses, the King went to the House of Lords, sent for the
-Commons, and then, in his chair of state, and when the Petition had
-been read to him, instead of giving his consent to the bill in the
-concise form in which the monarch, in Norman French, declares that
-“Le Roy le veult,” delivered an evasive answer, promising much, but
-signifying nothing.
-
-Footnote 104:
-
- State Papers, vol. lxii., No. 7. Dated May 7, 1627.
-
-The indignation of the House of Commons first descended on the head
-of Mainwaring, afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph, who had preached, by
-the King’s order, a sermon containing doctrines subversive of
-liberty. Mainwaring, although he had acted under royal authority,
-had been fined a thousand pounds, imprisoned, and suspended during
-three years.[105] After he had been sentenced, the House proceeded
-to pass “strong condemnation on Buckingham,” whose name had hitherto
-not been mentioned. It must have been a singular scene, when, on the
-fifth of June, the House being assembled, a message was delivered to
-them from the King, announcing that, as he meant to prorogue
-Parliament in six days, he desired that no new business, which might
-consume time, nor lay any aspersion on His Majesty’s ministers,
-should be commenced. A deep dejection was observed on all faces; but
-when Sir John Eliot, the most impassioned speaker of that period of
-earnest and eloquent men, rose, and was about to denounce Buckingham
-as the author of all the national misfortunes, he was stopped by Sir
-John Finch, the speaker, who, rising from his chair, his eyes full
-of tears, told the House that he had been commanded to interrupt
-every member who laid aspersions on any minister of state. A
-profound and melancholy silence succeeded; then, after several
-members had broken it, by resuming the debate, it was strange again
-to hear that voice which had never deceived his fellow-subjects, and
-to behold Sir Edward Coke rise, and remind them of former
-parliamentary impeachments, and tell them that it was their province
-to regulate prerogative and correct abuses; and he added, “If they
-flattered man, God would never prosper them.” Then the name fell
-from his lips that none since the King’s message had dared to utter:
-he denounced Buckingham; he called him the grievance of grievances;
-and, setting at nought the royal mandate, declared, that till the
-King were informed of that truth, the Commons could neither continue
-together, “nor depart with honour.”
-
-Footnote 105:
-
- At the end of the session, Charles not only pardoned Mainwaring,
- but gave him a valuable living.
-
-Thus the fears of the poor Duchess of Buckingham were finally and
-fully realized. One member imputed to the Duke the ruin of the
-shipping, in the restoration of which he had so incessantly
-laboured. The faults of others were thus laid on him. Another stated
-that there were Papists in every branch of the public service. The
-intolerant fierceness of Puritanical opinions, on this occasion,
-blazed out. Selden proposed a declaration of grievances, and
-suggested that, though a mantle had been thrown over the charge
-against the Duke in the last Parliament, it ought to be resumed, and
-judgment demanded. Whilst the question was being put, on this
-motion, whether the Duke should be named as the primary cause of
-grievances, the Speaker begged leave to retire for a few minutes,
-and soon returned with a message from the King to adjourn.
-
-The consternation at the Court must have been extreme; for Charles
-now retraced his former steps; again went to the House, and, giving
-his consent to the Petition of Right, in the usual form since the
-Norman Conquest, “_Soit droit fait comme il est desiré_,” was
-received with loud acclamations. His popularity did not, however,
-last very long. He took this opportunity to commit an act which was
-both dangerous to himself and to his friend. When, by the
-dissolution of a former parliament, the impeachment of the Duke had
-been stopped, Charles, to save appearances, ordered an information
-against him to be filed in the Star Chamber. He now ordered this
-information to be taken off the file; thus insulting the Commons,
-who had named Buckingham as the “grievance of grievances.”[106]
-
-It may easily be imagined how deeply chagrined Buckingham must have
-been during these proceedings. Among the common people his name was
-held in still greater detestation than even by his parliamentary
-opponents.
-
-It was during this session that Sir Thomas Wentworth, recently
-created Viscount Strafford, distinguished himself by his eloquence,
-which he exerted in support of Buckingham, thus abandoning his
-former show of patriotism, in the fervour of which he had denounced
-the Council of State.
-
-“They have taken from us,” he exclaimed--“what shall I say?--indeed,
-what have they left us? They have taken from us all means of
-supplying the King, and ingratiating ourselves with them, by tearing
-up the roots of all property.”[107]
-
-Footnote 106:
-
- Brodie, p. 202. Hume’s “Charles I.”
-
-Footnote 107:
-
- Brodie, p. 170.
-
-In the midst of this declaration the Presidentship of the County of
-York was deemed likely to be vacated, owing to the illness of Lord
-Scrope, who then held it; and Wentworth had not scrupled to solicit
-the promise of it in the following terms of abject flattery to
-Buckingham. The letter is addressed to Lord Conway:--
-
- “Wentworth, this 20th of January, 1625.
-
-“MY MUCH HONORED LORD,--The duties of the place I now hold not
-admitting my absence out of these parts, I shall be bold to trouble
-your lordship with a few lines, whereas otherwise I would have
-attended you in person. There is a strong and general beleaf with us
-here that my Lord Scrope purposeth to leave the Presidentshippe of
-York; whereupon many of my friends have earnestly moved me to use
-some means to procure it, and I have at last yielded to take it a
-little into consideration, more to comply with them than out of any
-violent inordinate desire thereunto in myself. Yett, as on the one
-side I have never thought of it unless it might be effected, w^{th}
-the good liking of my Lord Scrope, soe will I never move further in
-it till I know also how this may please my Lord of Buckingham,
-seeing, indeed, such a seale of his gracious good opinion would
-comfort me much, make the place more acceptable; and that I am fully
-resolved not to ascende one steppe in this kind except I may take
-along with me by the way a special obligation to my Lord Duke, from
-whose bountye and goodness I doe not only acknowledge much allready,
-but, justified in the truth of my own hartte, doe still repose and
-rest under the shadow and protection of his favour. I beseach y’r
-Lorp., therefore, be pleased to take some good opportunity fully to
-acquaint his Grace hearunto, and then to vouchsafe, with y’r
-accustomed freedom and nobleness, to give me your counsel and
-direction, wh. I am prepared strictly to observe, as one albeit
-chearfully embracing better means to doe his Majesty humble and
-faithful service in the parttes whear I live, yet can w^{th} as well
-contented a mind, rest wher I am, if by reason of my manie
-imperfections I shall not be judged capable of neuer appointment or
-trust. There is nothing more to add for the present save that I must
-rest much bounden unto y’r Lorp. for the light I shall borrow from
-y’r judgement and affection hearin and soe borrow it too, as may
-better enable me more effectually to express myself hereafter.--Y’r
-Lorp. most humble and affec^{ate} kinsman to be commanded,
-
- T. WENTWORTH.
-
-To the Right Honble. my much honored Lord the Lorde Conway,
- Principall Secretary to his Majestie.”[108]
-
-Footnote 108:
-
- State Papers, Domestic, 1625.
-
-This favour being granted, and Sir Thomas having been created a
-Viscount, he appeared in the upper house as an advocate for the
-ministers whom he had, only a few months previously, denounced; but
-the adherence of Strafford was of little benefit to Buckingham, as
-his new ally was the most unpopular of men. One unhappy result,
-however, this unprincipled alliance produced. The new partisan
-ingratiated himself with Charles during his late and brief support
-of Buckingham; and the seeds were laid of that influence which so
-tended to undermine the future stability of the Crown, and pioneered
-the way to Charles’s fall.
-
-The most unjust aspersions were now circulated throughout all
-society. It was Buckingham’s custom to cast away, as unworthy of
-consideration, all reports that were brought to him. On one
-occasion, hearing that two Colonels, when before St. Martin’s Fort,
-had said to a third that they observed the Duke often go in his
-barge to the fleet, and that they believed he would steal away to
-England some day; and that if he did, they swore they would hand out
-the white flag, and deliver up the town and island to Tonar, the
-Governor; the Duke called a council of war, the accused being
-absent, and charged these gentlemen with their words. They flatly
-denied them on their swords. The Duke, without further inquiry,
-believed them, and dismissed the court. Nor did he ever pay any
-attention to things said about him, either in the Commons or in the
-camp.
-
-In the same way he appears to have treated James Howell, who,
-presuming on having been in his service, and on the affabilities of
-the Duke, and a facility of character which had its advantages as
-well as disadvantages, wrote an impertinent letter, saying, that in
-his “shallow apprehension” it might be well for the Duke to part
-with some of his places, and so to avoid opprobrium. “Your Grace,”
-he remarked, “might stand more firm without an anchor.” Then he next
-threw out some suggestions as to the better regulation of the Duke’s
-family and private affairs; and ended by saying that he knew the
-Duke did not, nor need not, affect popularity. “The people’s love,”
-he added, “is the strongest citadel of a sovereign prince, but wrath
-often proved fatal to a subject, for he who pulleth off his hat to
-the people giveth his head to the prince.” And he ends by referring
-to “a late unfortunate Earl,” who, a little before Queen Elizabeth’s
-death, had drawn the axe across his own neck; he had become so
-unpopular, that he was considered dangerous to the State. This very
-unpleasant reference was taken, at all events, amicably by
-Buckingham. The fate of Essex was often supposed to shadow forth his
-own; and the rapid rise, the more rapid fall, the generous, careless
-nature, the very early doom of both, to have suggested that parallel
-between the Earl of Essex and Buckingham, in which Lord Clarendon
-has placed the characters of both before the reader in delicate
-touches.
-
-In one respect they were very different. Essex, when attacked, even
-before going to Ireland, wrote an apology, which he dispersed with
-his own hands. Buckingham left his fame to his contemporaries, and
-to posterity, just as they choose to view it. On an offer once being
-made to him to write a justification of his actions, he refused it,
-says Lord Clarendon, “with a pretty kind of thankful scorn, saying
-that he would trust to his own good intentions, which God knew, and
-trust to Him for the pardon of his errors;” that he saw no “fruit of
-apologies but the multiplying of discourse, which, surely,” even
-Lord Clarendon observes, “was a well-settled matter.”[109]
-
-Footnote 109:
-
- Parallel between Essex and Buckingham--“Reliquiæ Wottonianæ.”
-
-But there were dangers lurking in his path which no defence could
-avert. Personal danger did not appal him. Slander did not affect
-him. Yet a forgotten, morbid, disappointed man was the instrument of
-destiny; and even in this crisis Buckingham seems never to have
-shrunk from the assassins, even in imagination: he knew that he had
-already escaped great perils--and that consciousness gave him
-security.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
-FELTON--HIS CHARACTER--UNCERTAINTY OF HIS MOTIVES--CIRCUMSTANCES
- UNDER WHICH HE WAS BROUGHT INTO CONTACT WITH BUCKINGHAM--MOTIVES
- OF HIS CRIME DISCUSSED--THE REMONSTRANCE--THE FATE OF
- LA ROCHELLE--BUCKINGHAM’S UNPOPULARITY--RETURNS TO
- RHE--MISGIVINGS OF HIS FRIENDS--INTERVIEW WITH LAUD--WITH
- CHARLES I.--HIS FAREWELL--HE ENTERS PORTSMOUTH--FELTON--THE
- ASSASSINATION--ORIGINAL LETTERS FROM SIR D. CARLETON AND SIR
- CHARLES MORGAN--THE KING’S GRIEF.
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
-
-Whilst all these events were pending, dark designs were being formed
-and cherished in the distempered mind of one far from the Court, and
-probably wholly forgotten by him to whose destiny he gave the final
-stroke.
-
-Hitherto Buckingham had escaped all bodily harm. He had rallied
-speedily from illness, and was in the full vigour of his life; he
-had returned unhurt from the perilous service at Rhé; he had
-repeatedly crossed the Channel, and tracked even the great ocean
-when the science of navigation, as well as of ship-building, was
-imperfect, and when a thousand dangers encompassed his course: he
-had escaped the pestilence by which the army lost many of its best
-men. And yet his days were numbered.
-
-In the remote county of Suffolk the unhappy John Felton was born. He
-was the youngest son of an ancient family, and in somewhat narrow
-circumstances, and had been a lieutenant in a regiment of foot,
-under the command of Sir John Ramsey, in the expedition against Rhé.
-He was a man of great reserve, which, though he had long led a
-soldier’s life, in the course of which he appears to have risen from
-the ranks, was still silent and gloomy. In person he was diminutive,
-with a meagre form, and a face rendered almost ghastly from the
-expression of that deep, habitual, and apparently causeless
-melancholy to which we give the term morbid; and thus singularly did
-these outlines of his character correspond with the circumstances of
-his daily life. So strange was it to discover in the young soldier
-the characteristics attributable to a cloister rather than to a
-camp, that one turns to the mournful plea of insanity for
-explanation. But no defence of that nature, or on that ground, was
-ever attempted for Felton; unhappily, so much has lunacy increased
-in modern times, that it forms now one point in almost every case of
-unaccountable crime. In the days of our ancestors it was different.
-Such an excuse was rare, and only applied to imbecility, or to
-mania, when too apparent to be disputed.
-
-To this day, indeed, there has been found no adequate motive for the
-deed, which Felton long contemplated in the depths of a soul that
-never gave utterance to its joys or sorrows, and exchanged no
-sympathies with others. Whatever “may have been the immediate or
-greatest motive of that felonious conception,” Sir Henry Wotton
-declares, “is even yet in the clouds.”[110] The origin of that dark
-design has, nevertheless, been referred to a disappointment in
-Felton’s military career. This he subsequently denied, by saying
-that the Duke had always shown him respect. Whilst at Rhé, Felton’s
-captain having died in England, he naturally applied to Buckingham
-for promotion. The Duke, however, consulted the colonel of the
-regiment, and, by his suggestion, gave the company to an officer
-named Powell, who happened to be lieutenant of the colonel’s
-company, and a man of great bravery; and Felton himself acknowledged
-the justice and expediency of this preference of Powell to himself.
-So that, to follow the same authority, the idea of any rancour being
-harboured, owing to this arrangement, can have no foundation.[111]
-But the notion has been taken up by historians adverse to
-Buckingham--and such are in the majority--rather to heighten the
-impression that he suffered for an act of injustice, for which his
-death was, more or less, a retribution, than from any certain
-conviction on the point.
-
-Footnote 110:
-
- Wottonianæ Reliquiæ, p. 233.
-
-Footnote 111:
-
- Ibid.
-
-There was also another cause assigned for the crime which Felton
-meditated. In his native county there was a certain knight whom the
-Duke had latterly favoured; and between this individual and Felton
-there “had been ancient quarrels not yet healed,” which might be
-festering within his breast, and worked up by his own grievance into
-frenzy. But this explanation is also rejected by Sir Henry Wotton,
-whose evidence is the best that can be given, as proceeding from a
-man of principle, and a contemporary and friend of Buckingham’s.
-
-Three hours before his execution, however, Felton, either as a
-palliation to others, or to excuse the deed to himself, alleged that
-the book written by Dr. Egglisham, King James’s Scottish physician,
-in which the Duke was portrayed as one of the foulest monsters upon
-earth, unfit to live in a Christian court, or even within the pale
-of humanity, had a great effect upon his mind, in inciting him to
-what he deemed an act of heroic virtue. The fact, indeed, it is
-plain, was, that his religious convictions had an all-powerful
-influence upon his judgment, which was warped by the gloomy bigotry
-which casts a shadow over the noblest and most encouraging hopes of
-the Christian. The tenor of this unhappy man’s life had been marked
-by seriousness and religious observances; but it was the religion
-which condemned all who differed--the religion, not of love, but
-self-righteousness and hatred.
-
-During the leisure of peace--if peace that can be called in which
-all the elements of civil war were being engendered--the Petition of
-Right--that great measure, which even Clarendon allows, "was of no
-prejudice to the Crown"--received the King’s assent. Not contented
-with what they found might prove a bare declaration of the law, the
-Commons drew up a Remonstrance, addressed to the King, in order that
-the too great power of Buckingham might be diminished. The promotion
-of Papists, the protection of Arminians, under the patronage of Neal
-and Laud, were the chief subjects, and were calculated to arouse and
-inflame the passions of a fanatic, like Felton, and to have
-suggested the reasoning that was soon warped, by prejudice and
-hatred, into the form and conception of guilt. There were other
-subjects of complaint in that celebrated Remonstrance, which touched
-him also--the standing commission of general continued to Buckingham
-in time of peace, the dismissal of faithful officers from various
-places of trust, the failures at Cadiz and at Rhé--these were but a
-small part of that important document, but they were the portion
-most likely to excite such a mind as that of Felton. He stated,
-indeed, that the idea of assassination, which he had repelled by
-stern efforts of conscience--for he was a man misled and mistaken,
-but not devoid of certain principles, and he dared to make use of
-that solemn and misguiding word, conscience--was revived, with
-irresistible force, by the Remonstrance. Never, hitherto, had the
-members most distinguished for oratory in parliament reasoned with
-so much force, and so much research, and so great a depth of legal
-argument, as on the Petition of Right, and its successor, the
-Remonstrance. It was the era of good taste and profound argument in
-that great assembly.[112] All tended to strengthen Felton in the
-conviction that the Duke was a traitor and oppressor, whom any
-patriot would do well to assassinate.
-
-Footnote 112:
-
- Brodie.
-
-Then he read works which maintained the lawfulness of ridding a
-nation of an oppressor; and the voice of conscience was heard no
-more--a false heroism was thenceforth the spectre that lured him
-onwards. Never was there a more striking instance of the influence
-of one mind over another than that which the books of the day had
-over the mind of Felton; never was there a more prominent
-exemplification of the responsibilities of a writer, even if his
-words chance to have only an ephemeral reputation, than this man’s
-crime.
-
-The resolution was then formed--Buckingham’s life was to be
-sacrificed for the public good. Sir Henry Wotton seems to think that
-every plea adopted by Felton in explanation of this design was to be
-distrusted. “Whatever were the true motives, which, I think, none
-can determine but the Prince of Darkness itself, he did thus
-prosecute the effort.”
-
-He bought for tenpence, in a cutler’s shop on Tower Hill, a
-knife--that instrument, the blow of which paralyzed England--and
-sewed the sheath into the lining of his pocket, so that he could at
-any time draw out the knife with one hand--his other being maimed
-and powerless.
-
-Being thus provided, he watched in gloom and privacy (for he was
-very poor) the opportunity over which he brooded.
-
-Meantime, Buckingham was mingling, in the full confidence of his
-fearless nature, in the affairs of that world which he was so soon
-to quit for ever. His unpopularity was at its acmé, and if he feared
-not for himself, there were friends who trembled for his safety. Sir
-Clement Throgmorton, a man of great consideration and judgment, one
-day asked a private conference, and advised the Duke to wear a coat
-of mail underneath his his outer garment. The Duke received the
-suggestion very kindly, but gave this reply, “Against popular fury a
-coat of mail would be but a weak defence, and with regard to an
-attack from any single man, he conceived there was no danger.” "So
-dark," says Wotton, “is destiny.”
-
-This consciousness of being the object of universal hatred probably
-increased the keen desire which now possessed the Duke’s mind of
-retrieving the discredit into which his failure had plunged him.
-During the whole of the spring, preparations for a fresh descent on
-La Rochelle had been in contemplation. As good a squadron as that
-which Admiral Pennington had previously commanded was ready at
-Plymouth by the end of February, ten ships having been pressed into
-the service. Several new vessels were built, notwithstanding that
-the workmen of the navy at Chatham complained that they had not
-received any pay for seven months. Buckingham was, at one time, on
-the point of visiting Plymouth, but went to Newmarket instead.[113]
-During the session of Parliament his brother-in-law, the Earl of
-Denbigh, was dispatched with a fleet to the relief of La Rochelle,
-which was blockaded by the French, but he returned without even
-attempting to effect anything; and the unfortunate town was left to
-its fate. Richelieu, besieging it by circumvallations, constructed a
-mole across the mouth of the harbour, leaving room only for the ebb
-and flow of the sea; and destruction seemed inevitable. It was,
-therefore, a very probable means of recovering his credit at home,
-for the Duke again to attempt the relief of those who, as
-Protestants, represented a cause dear to English hearts.
-Independently of this, it is not unlikely that old rivalship with
-the sagacious Cardinal may have influenced Buckingham to undertake a
-second expedition to La Rochelle.[114] It is, perhaps, not to be
-wondered at that Buckingham’s name should be covered with so much
-opprobrium after his death, when the fate of the heroes who defended
-La Rochelle is remembered. In the October of the year in which the
-Duke perished, La Rochelle, long refusing to yield, was forced to
-submit. The inhabitants surrendered at discretion--even with an
-English fleet, commanded by Lord Sidney, in sight. Of fifteen
-thousand men who had been enclosed in the town, only four thousand
-survived famine and fatigue, to lay down their arms before the
-generals sent by Richelieu.
-
-Footnote 113:
-
- Calendar, vol. xciv., No. 96.
-
-Footnote 114:
-
- Brodie--Hume.
-
-To make a last effort for these valiant sufferers was, therefore,
-the wisest determination that Buckingham could form. The fleet which
-Lord Denbigh had commanded was in good condition, and all at home
-had learned experience through failure. He had taken that severe
-lesson to his own heart. Had Buckingham been spared to relieve La
-Rochelle, and to recover for England the honour of her sullied
-reputation, his errors would doubtless have been forgiven.
-
-Before leaving London, the Duke went to take leave of Laud, then
-Bishop of London. Laud had now, both in civil and ecclesiastical
-matters, a great influence over the King: of this Buckingham was
-fully sensible.
-
-Sir Henry Wotton, who had made some inquiries whether the Duke had
-had any presentiment of his death, relates a touching scene between
-the Duke and Laud.
-
-“My Lord,” Buckingham said, “you have, I know, very free access to
-the King, our sovereign; let me pray you to remind his Majesty to be
-good to my poor wife and children.”
-
-At these words, or perhaps rather on looking at the expression of
-countenance with which they were uttered, the Bishop, with some
-uneasiness, asked the Duke whether he had any forebodings in his
-mind which he did not like to betray?
-
-“No,” replied the Duke; “but I think some adventure may kill me as
-much as any other man,”
-
-The day before he was assassinated, the Duke being ill, Charles the
-First visited him whilst he was in bed. After a long and serious
-conversation in private, they separated, Buckingham embracing the
-King “in a very unusual and passionate manner;” and he also showed
-great emotion on taking leave of Lord Holland, “as if his soul had
-divined he should see them no more.”
-
-The twentieth of August was his birthday. He had completed his
-thirty-sixth year--that period which has been marked by a great
-writer as the departure of youth[115]--it might have been, perhaps,
-in Buckingham’s case, the beginning of wisdom extracted from
-experience.
-
-Footnote 115:
-
- Student.
-
-It was the age of omens and other superstitious weaknesses; and
-supernatural warnings were not wanting to heighten the effect of the
-tragedy that was soon to be acted. Neither did they who foreboded
-evil to the Duke wait until after the event to bring forth their
-ghostly revelations. One day, some little time before the Duke’s
-death, he was playing at bowls with the King in Spring Gardens.
-Buckingham, as he usually did,even in Charles’s presence, kept his
-hat on, a piece of presumption which irritated a Scotsman named
-Wilson, who, in his wrath, tossed off the Duke’s hat, and declared
-he would punish impertinence wherever he met it in the same way. On
-looking round for this man, he had vanished, and was nowhere to be
-found. The courtiers marvelled at the incident, and regarded it as
-ominous of the Duke’s fate; but he laughed at them for their folly,
-and showed no fear.[116]
-
-Footnote 116:
-
- Balfour’s Annals, MSS., Advocate’s Library, quoted from Brodie,
- vol. ii., p. 209.
-
-His indifference was regarded as infatuation; in fact, it proves
-that the Duke was, in some respects, superior to those whom he most
-respected. There was no lone spinster in the country more given to
-believe in dreams and omens than Laud; and his diary contains
-perpetual references to his dreams. Every slight incident had its
-peculiar meaning, foreshadowing some great event. Nor does Lord
-Clarendon rise above the tone of the times, in his relation of that
-famous ghost story which forms one of the most prominent incidents
-of Buckingham’s latest days.
-
-Old Sir George Villiers had now been dead eighteen years, and
-perhaps few of his family, and certainly not his wife, who had been
-twice married, ever wished to see him again. There was a certain Mr.
-Nicholas Towse, however, living in Bishopsgate Without, London, to
-whom the aged knight appeared in the spirit, during the year 1627,
-making choice of that individual as the depositary of secrets beyond
-the grave, because he had known him whilst he was a boy at school in
-Leicestershire, near Brookesby. As a mark of friendship, therefore,
-the apparition of Sir George favoured Mr. Towse with his
-revelations, and stood one night at the foot of his bed, dressed in
-the costume of the time of Elizabeth. There was a candle in the
-room, and Mr. Towse was perfectly wakeful. On beholding Sir George,
-he uttered, according to his own account, the natural inquiry, “What
-he was, and whether he was a man?” To which the apparition answered,
-“No.” Then Towse, in considerable emotion, asked, “Was he a devil?”
-To which the apparition still answered, “No.” Then Mr. Towse, with
-increasing agitation, said, “In the name of God, tell me what you
-are?”
-
-"I am," replied the spectre, in doublet and hose, “the spectre of
-Sir George Villiers, the father of the Duke of Buckingham;” adding,
-that because he believed Mr. Towse loved him, and was sensible of
-the former kindness that he had shown him, he had selected him as
-the bearer of a message to the Duke of Buckingham, warning him in
-such a manner as to prevent much mischief and present ruin to the
-Duke.
-
-Whilst the apparition was speaking, Towse became more and more
-convinced of his identity, and more fully conscious that the long
-defunct master of a noble house stood before him; nevertheless, he
-refused to do Sir George’s bidding, saying that it would bring
-ridicule on him to carry to the Duke such a message. But the ghost
-earnestly entreated him to comply, assuring him, after the manner of
-ghosts, that there were certain passages in the Duke’s life known
-only to himself and his son, and that the revelation of these would
-plainly show the Duke it was no “distempered fancy, but a reality,
-that he wished to disclose.”
-
-That night was one of irresolution, if not of incredulity; but, on
-the next, the unhappy Towse, thus picked out for so ghostly a
-service, promised to go to the Duke. He went, indeed, and found out
-Sir Thomas Freeman and Sir Ralph Bladden, the Duke’s chamberlains,
-by whom he was presented to the Duke. Then followed some private and
-agitated interviews between Buckingham and Towse, and the cautions
-of the ghost were fully and forcibly communicated: they related
-chiefly to Buckingham’s patronage of Laud, and suggested some
-popular acts which the Duke was to perform in Parliament--and, in
-short, contained advice that any reasonable man might have offered.
-But nothing that was said by Mr. Towse made the slightest impression
-on the Duke, except, when certain passages of his life were referred
-to, with which the ghost had primed Mr. Towse, he owned he had
-believed “that no living creature knew of them but himself, and that
-it must be either God or the devil that had revealed them.” The Duke
-then offered to get Mr. Towse knighted, and to have him made a
-burgess in the forthcoming Parliament. But Mr. Towse, finding that
-the obstinate favourite was deaf to his advice, left him,
-prognosticating that the Duke’s death would happen at a certain
-time--which prognostic was fulfilled.
-
-Mr. Towse then returned to Bishopsgate Without; and, there is much
-reason to believe, laboured under mental malady; for the visits of
-the apparition were now so frequent that he grew familiar with
-him, “as if it had been a friend or acquaintance that had come to
-visit him.” And from this very unpleasant guest Towse learned to
-see in perspective many events that had not then dawned on
-England; more especially the troubles of Prynne, who was Towse’s
-father-in-law--which was contrary to all rule, as a ghost should
-keep to one subject. On the day of Buckingham’s death, also, Mr.
-Towse and his wife being at Windsor Castle, where Towse had an
-office, they were sitting in company, when he started up,
-exclaiming, “The Duke of Buckingham is slain!” At the very moment
-that these words were uttered the blow had been given. Towse dying
-soon after, also foretold his own death.
-
-This narrative, thought worthy of insertion by Clarendon, and
-therefore not to be completely disregarded in any biography of
-Buckingham, is taken, however, from a letter penned at Boulogne, by
-one Edmund Wyndham, in 1672, twenty years after the event.[117][118]
-According to Lord Clarendon, Buckingham, after hearing Towse’s
-revelation, was observed ever afterwards to be very melancholy. That
-he had misgivings as to his return, we have seen; but there are few
-men so insensible, at such a moment, as to be quite free from
-presentiment of evil--more especially one on whom the eyes of the
-country were directed in resentment, and regarding whom the Commons
-was then preparing a Remonstrance.[119]
-
-Footnote 117:
-
- The letter from Edmund Wyndham, of Kattisford, county Somerset,
- was addressed to Dr. Robert Plot, who wished to have the story
- correctly stated, in order to correct the false representations of
- William Lilly.
-
-Footnote 118:
-
- “Biographia Britannica,” Art. “Villiers,” _Note_.
-
-Footnote 119:
-
- See Appendix A.
-
-Felton, meantime, was intent on pursuing his scheme. The frank and
-kindly manner of the Duke towards his officers and soldiers at
-Rhé, his personal courage, and his participation in the hardships
-all had undergone in that expedition, had failed to propitiate the
-assassin, who was, in fact, stimulated by the fiercest of all
-incentives--political hatred, justified by the plea of religion.
-He set off, therefore, to Portsmouth, and, partly on horseback,
-and partly on foot, accomplished that journey; and perhaps the
-desperate state of his fortunes added to his gloomy views and
-reckless designs, into which one thought of self-preservation
-never entered. At a few miles from Portsmouth he was seen
-sharpening the fatal knife on a stone; he arrived at that city
-with the determination that, should his scheme of assassination
-fail for want of opportunity, he would enlist as a volunteer, in
-order to accomplish it eventually.
-
-There was, of course, considerable bustle in the town; and on
-entering it, when the ghastly murderer stood unobserved amongst the
-crowd, there was too numerous a train about the Duke for Felton to
-reach him. Fearful of observation, he kept himself indoors one
-morning after his arrival; but, on the ensuing day, repaired to the
-house where Buckingham was staying. The Duke was at that time at
-breakfast, and little attention was paid by a number of suitors and
-applicants who were waiting for him in the antechamber, to the
-diminutive being who was watching, with his dark purpose, among the
-unconscious crowd. As there were several military men, amongst whom
-was the Duc de Soubise, with Buckingham, as well as Sir Thomas
-Fryer, much animation pervaded the conversation, in consequence of a
-report having reached Portsmouth that La Rochelle had been relieved.
-Soubise and his followers believed that this report was set on foot
-by some agents of the French, in order to induce the English to
-relax in their preparations, until the mole, which it was
-Richelieu’s plan to form at the mouth of the harbour, should be
-completed. He and the other foreigners spoke with vehemence, and in
-tones which the English, who were listening, deemed to be those of
-anger. The Duke, it appeared, was inclined to believe the report,
-and the eagerness of Soubise was not, therefore, to be matter of
-surprise, since his interests, and those of his adherents, were
-irrevocably engaged in the approaching expedition. At length,
-however, the conference ended; Soubise took his leave, and
-Buckingham rose to quit the chamber where he had breakfasted.
-
-It was, probably, with a pre-occupied mind that he thus prepared to
-go out; and it is very possible that he scarcely observed a small
-figure, which he may not even have recognized, which was lifting up,
-as he passed on, the hangings between the room and the antechamber.
-This was Felton. Buckingham, on his way, stopped an instant to speak
-to Sir Thomas Fryer, one of his Colonels, who was a short man--so
-that, in order to hear his reply, the Duke bent down his head
-somewhat. Fryer then drew back, and, at that moment, Felton,
-striking across the Colonel’s arm, stabbed Buckingham a little above
-the heart. The knife was left in the body; the Duke, with a sudden
-effort, drew it out, and exclaiming, “The villain has killed me,”
-pursued the assassin out of the parlour into the hall or
-antechamber, where he sank down, and, falling under a table, drew a
-deep breath, and expired.
-
-Then the utmost confusion ensued. The English, misled by what had
-passed at breakfast, accused Soubise and his followers of the
-murder; and they would have been instantly sacrificed to the fury of
-the populace, had not some persons of cooler feelings interposed in
-their behalf. No one had seen the murderer; he had come in
-unnoticed, and had withdrawn in like manner. At this moment, a hat,
-into which a paper was sewn, was found near the door; it was eagerly
-examined, and some writing on the paper read with avidity, and these
-words were deciphered:--
-
-“That man is cowardly, base, and deserves neither the name of a
-gentleman nor soldier, who will not sacrifice his life for the
-honour of God, and safety of his prince and country. Let no man
-commend me for doing it, but rather discommend themselves; for if
-God had not taken away our hearts for our sins, he could not have
-gone so long unpunished.
-
- ”JNO. FELTON."[120]
-
-Footnote 120:
-
- The original letter was in possession of the late Mr. Upcott, by
- whom the author of this Memoir was presented with a fac-simile. It
- is, however, given in all the histories of this period.
-
-Whilst the bystanders were reading these words, the body of the Duke
-had been conveyed to the inner apartment, from which he had issued,
-having been first laid on the table of the antechamber, or hall; and
-in this inner chamber it was left, without a single person, even a
-domestic, to watch over his remains, or to give him that tribute of
-sorrowing respect which is due to the poorest. And this singular
-neglect has been regarded as a proof of indifference in those who,
-but a few minutes previously, were crowding round the powerful
-Minister and General. But it was, in fact, one of those accidents
-which often bear a very different construction, when they are
-considered relatively to the circumstances of the hour, to that
-placed on them. Sir Henry Wotton, to whom the fact was mentioned by
-one of the Duke’s friends, speaks of it as “beyond all wonder;” but
-accounts for it by the horror which the murder had excited, added to
-the astonishment at the sudden disappearance of the murderer, who
-had glided from the terrible scene like an actor who has done his
-part, and makes his exit. For a time, however, whilst high words
-were heard between the Frenchmen and their accusers, whilst murmurs
-from the street below, of the eager and infuriated crowd, were
-changed into yells of vengeance, that cold corpse lay unheeded;
-“thus, upon the withdrawing of the sun, does the shadow depart from
-the painted dial.”[121] All were, indeed, in the house, occupied in
-asking again and again the question, Where could the owner of the
-hat be?--for he, doubtless, was the assassin. Whilst they were thus
-talking, a man without a hat was seen walking with perfect composure
-up and down before the door. “Here,” cried one of the crowd, “is the
-man who killed the Duke,” upon which Felton calmly said, “I am he,
-let no person suffer that is innocent.” Then the populace rushed
-upon him with drawn swords, to which Felton offered no defence,
-preferring rather to die at once, than to abide the issue of
-justice. He was, however, rescued by others less violent--a
-circumstance which was thought very fortunate for the popular party,
-on whom a stigma might have rested had the murderer been killed; and
-Felton being secured, was conveyed to a small sentry-box; he was
-instantly loaded with heavy irons, which prevented his either
-standing upright or lying down in that narrow prison, where he
-remained sometime, whilst the mob were raging without in the
-streets.[122]
-
-Footnote 121:
-
- Sir Philip Warwick’s Memoirs, p. 35.
-
-Footnote 122:
-
- See Brodie--Wotton--Hume.
-
-The Duchess of Buckingham was in an upper room of that house in
-which the husband whom she had “loved,” to use her own words, “as
-never woman loved man,” was murdered. She had not, when it happened,
-risen from her bed.[123]
-
-Footnote 123:
-
- Reliq. Wotton., p. 234.
-
-The following very graphic account, written by a very devoted friend
-of Buckingham, Sir Dudley Carleton, presents, in several details, a
-somewhat different delineation of this scene of murder, to that
-which has been related, collected from various sources, although, in
-various instances, it is confirmatory of the statements usually
-received.[124]
-
-Footnote 124:
-
- It shows in what manner the Duchess was informed of her husband’s
- death.
-
-"S^R--If y^e ill newes we have heard (doe not as their use is) out
-flye these lres,[125] they will bring you y^e worst of y^e strangest
-I think you ever received: sure I am, whatever passed my pen. Our
-noble Duke in y^e midst of his army he had ready at Portsmouth as
-well shipping as land forces, in y^e height of his favour with our
-Gracious Master, who was herd by at this place and in the greatest
-joy and alacrity I ever saw him in my life at y^e newes he had
-received about of y^e clock in y^e morning on Saturday last of y^e
-relief of Rochell, in that fort, that y^e place might well attend
-his coming, wherewith he was hastening to y^e King, who that morning
-had sent for him by me upon other occasions;--at his going out of a
-lower parlour where he usually sat, and had then broken his fast in
-presence of many standers by (Frenchmen with Monsieur de Soubise,
-officers of his army and those of his own Trayns) was stabbed unto
-y^e heart a little above y^e breast with a knife by one Felton, an
-Englishman, being a Reformed Lieutenant, who hastening out of y^e
-doore and y^e duke having pulled out y^e knife which was left in y^e
-wound and following him out of y^e parlour into y^e hall, with his
-hand putt to his sword, there fell down dead with much effusion of
-bloud at his mouth and nostrils. The Lady Anglesea,[126] then
-looking down into y^e hall out of an open Gallery, which crossed y^e
-end of it, and being spectator of this tragical fight, went
-immediately with a cry into y^e Duchesses Chamber, who was in bed,
-and then fell down on y^e floor, so surprized y^e poor Duchesse with
-this sad ... matin....[127] The murderer in y^e midst of y^e noise
-and tumult, every man drawing his sword and no man knowing whom to
-strike, nor from whom to defend himself, slipt out into y^e kitchen
-and there stood with some others unespyed, when a voyce being
-currant in the court to w^{ch} y^e window and doore of y^e kitchen
-answered (a Frenchman, a Frenchman), and his guilty conscience
-making him believe it was “Felton, Felton” (who being otherwise
-unknown and undiscovered might well have escaped) he came out of y^e
-kitchen with his sword drawn, and presenting himselfe, said, I am
-the man: some offering to assayle him and one running at him with a
-spit, he flung down his sword and rendered himselfe to y^e company,
-who being ready to handle him as he deserved by tearing him in
-pieces I took him from them, and having committed him to y^e custody
-of some officers, when I had taken y^e best order I could for other
-affairs in so great confusion, jointly with Secretary Cooke I
-examined y^e man and found he had no particular offence against y^e
-Duke, more than all others for want of some small entertayments were
-owing him: but he grounded his practise upon y^e Parliament’s
-Remonstrance as to make himselfe a Martyr for his Country, which he
-confessed to have resolved to execute y^e Monday before, he being
-then at London, and came from thence expressly by the Wednesday
-morning, arriving at Portsmouth y^e very morning, not above half an
-hour before he committed it. We could not then discover any
-complices, neither did we take more than his free and willing
-confession: but now His Majestie hath ordayned by Commission y^e
-Lord Treassurer, Lord Steward, Earl of Dorset, Secretary Cooke and
-myselfe to proceed with him as y^e nature of y^e fact requires, and
-wee shall begin this afternoon: meane while I would not but give you
-this relation to y^e end you may know y^e truth of this bloudy act,
-which will flye about the world diversly reported to you, and you
-should not find it strange such a blowe to be struck in y^e midst of
-y^e Duke’s friends and followers: you must know y^e murderer took
-his time and place at y^e presse near y^e issue of y^e room, and
-many of us were stept out to our horses, as I my selfe was to go to
-Court with the Duke. The murderer gloryed in his acte y^e first day;
-but when I told him he was y^e first assassin of an Englishman, a
-gentleman, a soldier, and a protestant, he shrunk at it, and is now
-grown penitent. It seems this man and Ravillac were of no other
-Religion (though he professeth other) than _assassanisme_; they have
-the same maxims as you will see by two writings were found sowed in
-his hat, wc^h goe herewith.
-
-“From Lord Viscount Dorchester to” [not addressed.][128]
-
-Footnote 125:
-
- Letters.
-
-Footnote 126:
-
- Lady Anglesea, the sister-in-law of Buckingham’s mother, being the
- wife of his brother, Christopher, Earl of Anglesea.
-
-Footnote 127:
-
- There is an hiatus here in the MS.
-
-Footnote 128:
-
- Domestic State Papers, August 27, 1628. No. 21.
-
-In another letter, addressed to the King of Bohemia by Sir Charles
-Morgan, it was also shown in what sanguine spirits the Duke was, and
-how he was forming good resolutions, when he received the fatal blow
-which cut him off from all hope of retrieving the errors he so
-candidly confessed, or of completing the work of reformation, in
-various departments, which he hoped to accomplish. Although we may
-feel assured that the blow was suffered to fall for some purpose of
-mercy, yet never did any sudden death seem more untimely.
-
-The King was only about six miles from Portsmouth, whence he
-intended doubtless to witness the departure of a friend whom he
-never ceased to lament. He was at prayers when Sir John Hippesley
-came suddenly into the Presence Chamber, where service was that day
-performed, and whispered the news into his Majesty’s ear. Charles
-did not permit a single feature of his face to express either
-astonishment or distress; and, when a deep pause ensued, the
-appalled chaplain thinking to spare his Majesty the distress of
-remaining during the service, he calmly ordered him to proceed with
-the prayers--and, until those were concluded, preserved the same
-undisturbed demeanour. Some there were who argued, from this perfect
-mastery over his feelings, that the King did not regret the death of
-one who had rendered him so unpopular, and from whom he could not
-unloose the bonds which early habit and youthful friendship had
-drawn so closely as to convert them into shackles. But the deep
-sorrow which Charles felt was shown in his affectionate care of
-those whom his favourite loved; nor was it, as some supposed,
-without a stern effort that he controlled his emotions whilst he
-remained amid those assembled in prayer. No sooner was the service
-over, than he suddenly departed to his chamber, and, throwing
-himself on his bed, gave full vent to a passion of grief, and,
-weeping long and bitterly, paid to the poor Duke the tribute of his
-anguish,--lamenting not only the loss of an excellent friend and
-servant, but “the terrible manner of the Duke’s death.” And he
-continued for many days in the deepest melancholy.[129]
-
-Footnote 129:
-
- Clarendon.
-
-Of course, in those days, this fearful event was said to have been
-foretold, not only by a ghost, but in dreams, and by presentiments.
-Sir James Bagg, one of the Duke’s most trusted servants, has left
-the following proof of his belief in dreams:--
-
-"RIGHT HONORABLE--Hand in hand came to my unfortunate hand yo
-Expps.[130] and my noble friend Mr. Secretarie Cooke’s, and yo^r
-Honors leynes could not be but welcome although they brought vnto
-mee the sadd and heavy newes of that damnable act of that accursed
-ffelton, wc^h hath so seated itself in my heart as it will hould
-memorie there, of the untymilie losse of my deere and gracious Lord
-to my unpacified sorrow untill my Death; for as I partook wt^h him
-of his comforts living, I will have a share of his sorrowes after
-him. Oh my Lord! his end was upon Satterdau morning. The daie of his
-dissolving tould mee by a dreame, discribed in all. It wanted but
-the damned name of Felton. But that fiende unworthy of it was
-entituled by the name of Souldier. This Dreame tould my Wife and
-dearest friends, did not a little trouble mee, but now the trueth
-thereof torments me.
-
-"Yo leynes my only comforte brought wt^h them his Mat[131] commands.
-In all I doe obey them," &c., &c.
-
-Footnote 130:
-
- Expresses.
-
-Footnote 131:
-
- Majesty’s.
-
-The letter is addressed thus from Sir James Bagg--“For his
-Lordship,” and dated, “Augt. 28th, 1628.”[132]
-
-Footnote 132:
-
- Domestic State Papers, Aug. 1628, No. 26.
-
-Amongst the Duke’s relations the Countess of Denbigh was most
-beloved by him, and his affection was warmly returned. On the very
-day of his death he wrote to her. Whilst she was penning her answer,
-her paper was moistened with her tears, in a passion of grief so
-poignant and so despairing, that she could only account for it by
-believing those transports of sorrow to have been prophetic. She
-wrote to him these words:--
-
-“I will pray for your happy return, which I look to with a great
-cloud over my head, too heavy for my poor heart to bear without
-torment. But I hope the great God of Heaven will bless you.”[133]
-
-Footnote 133:
-
- Biog. Brit.
-
-On the day after the Duke’s death, the Bishop of Ely, who was the
-devoted friend of Lady Denbigh, being considered the fittest person
-to break the intelligence to her, went to visit her, but hearing
-that she was asleep, waited until she awoke, which she did in all
-the perturbation produced by a terrible dream. Her brother, she
-said, had seemed to pass with her through a field, when, hearing a
-sudden shout from the people, she had asked what it meant, and was
-told that it was for joy that the Duke of Buckingham was ill. She
-was relating this dream to one of her gentlewomen when the Bishop
-entered her chamber. The scene that followed may be easily
-conceived. Whatever were the ill-starred Duke’s failings, he died
-beloved by those most dear to him.
-
-His sister’s apprehensions were, indeed, perfectly justifiable, and
-they might well intrude into those hours of silence in which
-thoughts of the absent or unhappy most frequently trouble our minds.
-Had the Duke again been saved from the chances of war, what might
-have been his fate at home in case of his return unsuccessful?
-Already had he hardly escaped from the indignation of the people:
-even then, in the remote county of Carmarthen, they were raising
-reports that the King had been poisoned by the Duke--reports that
-had been believed by the simple inhabitants of Wales. The fury of
-party had much to answer for in the excitement of bad passions, the
-end and mischief of which can never be foreseen.
-
-The greatest obscurity hung over the motives which prompted the act,
-unless it be explained by the practical aberration of a mind which,
-still bearing the outward semblance of reason, has evil thoughts,
-fostered by strong passions. The connections of Felton were not only
-poor--his mother appears to have been illiterate. To them, probably,
-his designs were never imparted, although they lived in the
-metropolis; yet it is evident, from several circumstances, that they
-knew of his animosity to the Duke, and were, to a certain
-extent--without any complicity--prepared to hear of some fearful act
-on the part of their unhappy relative.
-
-Whilst the Duke’s family were overwhelmed with anguish, another
-humble mourner almost sank under the blow. This was Elianore Felton,
-the mother of the assassin. She was a native of Durham, of which
-city her father had once been mayor, but she was then residing in
-London. On the 24th of August, in the church in St. Dunstan’s, in
-the Strand, an aged woman and her daughter attended afternoon
-service. These poor women were Elianore Felton and Elizabeth Hone,
-the mother and sister of Felton.
-
-During the singing of the psalms, whilst the congregation were
-standing up, some disturbance took place in the church. Elianore
-Felton, turning to a gentleman near her, inquired what was the
-cause? She was told that the Duke of Buckingham was killed; upon
-which, although the name of the assassin was not then mentioned to
-her, the unhappy woman fainted.
-
-It is probable that, knowing her son’s sentiments towards the Duke,
-and being aware of Felton’s fanatical opinions and moody temper, a
-panic, causing that sudden fainting, seized her. Her daughter, also,
-as the poor mother confessed in her subsequent examination, swooned
-also. These facts are very remarkable, and seem to show that she and
-her mother were aware of Felton’s intentions. No further information
-was gathered from these gentlewomen by those around them, until, in
-about half-an-hour, upon the church becoming fuller, there ran
-another whisper through it, purporting that a certain Lieutenant
-Felton, or Fenton, had killed the Duke. Then, as Elizabeth Hone
-confessed, she did much weep and lament, supposing that it was her
-brother that had done the deed. She had, however, the presence of
-mind to conduct her mother home, before she told her that it was her
-son who had committed murder, and plunged the nation into
-consternation, and his family into ruin.
-
-No proof whatsoever of any conspiracy was to be elucidated from the
-unfortunate relations of the culprit. Debt and disappointment had,
-according to their evidence, driven Felton to desperation. How many
-of the evil accidents of life issue, as far as one can see, humanly
-speaking, from pecuniary mismanagement. Felton, on the Wednesday
-before the Duke was killed, had gone to his mother’s lodging, and
-told her of his intention to get the money due to him for pay from
-the Duke; adding, that “he was too deeply in debt to stay longer in
-town.” Eighty pounds, it appeared, was then owing to him. This, and
-the loss of his Captaincy, were all that he had alleged to his own
-family against the Duke; he owned to no other grievance. The mother
-and sister, and brothers, were, however, committed to prison,
-although Edmund Felton, the brother of the delinquent, affirmed that
-he had not seen him for ten weeks previously to the murder; that
-John Felton had been estranged from him, and did not let him know
-where he lodged. There was no attempt in the examination, which took
-place before Thomas Richardson and Henry Finch, to screen the
-culprit by a plea of insanity; all his brother said was, that his
-disposition was “melancholie, sad, and heavy, and of few
-words.”[134] Alone had he conceived, planned, and put into execution
-the deed of guilt; yet such was the hard disposition of the times,
-that it was proposed to extract a confession from John Felton by
-torture; but Charles interposed, and forbade the application of that
-horrible test,[135] and it was never again attempted in this
-country.
-
-Footnote 134:
-
- Domestic State Papers, August, 1628, No. 31.
-
-Footnote 135:
-
- Brodie.
-
-The nation was paralyzed by the death of the Minister, Admiral, and
-General. “During Buckingham’s presence at Court,” as Mr. Bruce, in
-the preface to the “Calendar of State Papers,” remarks, “he reigned
-there as the King’s absolute and single Minister. Every act of the
-Government passed by or through his will. The King was little seen
-or heard of on State affairs. He seldom ever attended a sitting of
-the Privy Council, except to carry out some object of his
-favourite.” The void, the loss, may easily be conceived, after the
-death of the Duke. Charles, however, not only entered warmly into
-public affairs, but into the care and concerns of those children
-whom his friend had solemnly bequeathed to his charge.
-
-His first office, however, was to honour the remains of one so
-suddenly cut off, whilst in the prime of life. The process of
-embalming was then deemed indispensable; the Duke’s body, therefore,
-was submitted to that, happily, now disused operation; his bowels
-were interred at Portsmouth, where Lady Denbigh erected over them a
-memorial. Thus the place of his death was marked.
-
-The corpse was then conveyed to York House, where all that could be
-viewed of that once noble form was exhibited underneath a hearse.
-Eventually it was entombed under a splendid monument in Westminster
-Abbey, on the north side of Henry VII.’s Chapel; and his Duchess,
-notwithstanding her second marriage, and his two sons, were buried
-in the vault beneath the tomb with their father.
-
-The Duchess of Buckingham was near her confinement when this tragedy
-occurred. When Charles first visited the young widow, he promised
-her that he would be a “husband to her, and a father to her
-children.” One son alone was living at the time of the Duke’s
-decease. This was George, the second Duke of Buckingham of the house
-of Villiers. The character of this young nobleman, to whom Horace
-Walpole imputed “the figure and genius of Alcibiades,” has been
-“drawn by four masterly hands. Burnet has hewn it out with his rough
-chisel. Count Hamilton touched it with slight delicacy, that
-finishes while it seems to sketch. Dryden catched the living
-likeness. Pope completed the historical resemblance.” Lastly, Sir
-Walter Scott, in our time, has depicted this singular being with
-admirable skill, if not with perfect fidelity. He was scarcely a
-year and seven months old at his father’s death.
-
-One daughter, Lady Mary Villiers, survived the Duke. In the third
-year of the reign of Charles I., Buckingham having then no male
-heir, caused a patent to be made, limiting to her the title of
-Duchess of Buckingham, in default of male issue, his infant eldest
-son, Charles, having died in 1626, and George not being then born.
-
-Lady Mary’s life, so happy, seemingly, in her infancy, when, as
-“little Moll,” she was King James’s plaything, was not, in one
-respect, felicitous. Her first marriage, to Charles Lord Herbert,
-son and heir of Philip, Earl of Pembroke, was hastened, and
-performed privately in the chapel at Whitehall, because the young
-bride had formed an attachment to Philip Herbert, a younger son, who
-“did more apply himself to her,” as she stated, than the elder
-suitor.
-
-But her mother chided her out of this fancy, and the wedding took
-place--the bridegroom dying of small-pox a few weeks afterwards.
-Lady Mary married, secondly, James, Duke of Richmond and Lennox, by
-whom she had a son, Esme Stuart, who died in infancy; and thirdly,
-Thomas Howard, brother of the Earl of Carlisle. She left no
-children, so that her father’s desire to perpetuate in her his title
-was not realized. If we may believe the praise of an epitaph which
-was undisguisedly paid for, we must suppose Lady Mary to have been
-endowed with all the virtues.[136]
-
-Footnote 136:
-
- EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS.
-
- “The Lady Mary Villiers lies
- Under this stone: with weeping eyes
- The parents that first gave her breath
- And their sad friends laid her in earth.
- If any of them, reader, were
- Known unto thee, shed a tear;
- Or if thyself possess a gem,
- As dear to thee as this to them,
- Though a stranger to this place,
- Bewail in theirs thine own hard case:
- For thou perhaps at thy return
- May’st find thy darling in an urn.”
-
- ANOTHER.
-
- “The purest soul that e’er was sent
- Into a clayey tenement
- Informed this dust; but the weak mould
- Could the great guest no longer hold:
- The substance was too pure--the flame
- Too glorious that thither came:
- Ten thousand Cupids brought along
- A grace on each wing that did throng
- For place there--till they all opprest
- The seat on which they sought to rest.
- So the fair model broke for want
- Of room to lodge th’ inhabitant.
- When in the brazen leaves of Fame
- The life, the death of Buckingham
- Shall be recorded, if truth’s hand
- Incise the story o’er our land,
- Posterity shall see a fair
- Structure by the studious care
- Of two kings raised, that no less
- Their wisdom than their power express;
- By blinded zeal (whose doubtful light
- Made murder’s scarlet robe seem white--
- Whose vain deluding phantoms charmed
- A clouded sullen soul, and arm’d
- A desperate hand, thirsty of blood)
- Torn from the fair earth where it stood!
- So the majestic fabric fell.
- His actions let our annals tell;
- We write no chronicle; this pile
- Wears only sorrow’s face and style;
- Which e’en the envy that did wait
- Upon his flourishing estate,
- Turned to soft pity of his death,
- Now pays his hearse; but that cheap breath
- Shall not blow here, nor th’ impure brine
- Puddle the streams that bathe this shrine.
- These are the pious obsequies
- Dropped from his chaste wife’s pregnant eyes,
- In frequent showers, and were alone
- By her congealing sighs made stone,
- On which the carver did bestow
- These forms and characters of woe:
- So he the fashion only lent,
- Whilst she wept all this monument.”
-
-Some months after the Duke’s death, his widow gave birth to a son,
-named Francis after his grandfather, who provided for him in a
-fortune of 1,000_l._ a-year. When he grew up, however, Francis
-shared with his brother the misfortune that overshadowed the family,
-from the unexpected second marriage of their mother to Randolph
-Macdonald, first Earl and afterwards Marquis of Antrim. It is
-painful to find the widowed Duchess separated from her children,
-having become a Roman Catholic; and having incurred in this, and on
-account of the conduct of her husband in Ireland, under Sir Thomas
-Wentworth, the King’s displeasure. Charles so greatly disapproved of
-her marriage, that he refused, for several years, to see her, and,
-when reconciled, took away her children lest they should be imbued
-with her religious opinions. The young Duke and his brother Francis
-were educated, unhappily for themselves, with the Princes, Charles
-II. and his brothers; and Lady Mary was received in the house of the
-Earl of Pembroke, her father-in-law. Such are the changes and
-chances of life, that in 1639 we find Katharine, (still signing
-herself “Katharine Buckingham”) interceding with Strafford for her
-husband, Lord Antrim. “Any misfortune,” she writes, “to my lord must
-be mine.”[137]
-
-Footnote 137:
-
- "My Lord,--I was in hope, till very lately, that all your
- displeasure taken against my lord had been past; but, in letters
- sent me out of England, I was assuredly informed your lordship was
- much disgusted still with him, which news hath very much troubled
- me. I cannot be satisfied without sending these expressly to you.
- And I beseech you that, whatever you do conceive, you will deal
- clearly with me, and let me know it, and withal direct me how I
- may remove it. I must necessarily be included in your lordship’s
- anger to him, for any misfortune to my lord must be mine, and it
- will prove a great misfortune to me to live under your frowns. Out
- of your goodness you will not, I hope, make me a sufferer, who
- have never deserved from you but as
-
- “Your Lordship’s
- “KATHARINE BUCKINGHAM.
-
- “Dunbere, this 2nd of September, 1639.”[138]
-
-Footnote 138:
-
- Strafford Letters, vol. ii., p. 386.
-
-For him she had sacrificed indeed the favour of the King, and the
-guardianship of her children.
-
-In 1648, Lord Francis, who, with his brother, had taken the field
-against the Parliament, was killed, at about two miles distance from
-Kingston-on-Thames: standing with his back planted against an
-oak-tree on the road-side; and, scorning to ask quarter, he met his
-death gallantly, having nine wounds on his face and body. He is said
-to have been a most beautiful youth, and was only nineteen when he
-thus fell. His body was brought by water to York House, then sad and
-desolate, and was taken thence to be deposited in his father’s
-vault, with a Latin inscription on the coffin, preserved by Brian
-Fairfax, a faithful adherent, who thought it a pity that the epitaph
-should be buried with him; and who has therefore given it in his
-life of George, the second Duke of Buckingham. The elder brother of
-Lord Francis, after a life of extraordinary adventure, vicissitude,
-study, and dissipation, died, in 1688, quietly in his bed--“the fate
-of few of his predecessors of the title of Buckingham.” His body
-also lies entombed near his father. “The life of pleasure and the
-soul of whim,” as Pope describes him, his career furnishes a wide
-field for reflection and investigation, to those who may dare to
-dive into a biography so characterized by all the worst parts of the
-age in which he existed, as that of this profligate man.
-
-Mary, Countess of Buckingham, survived the Duke, her son, four
-years--when, with her life, her dignity expired.
-
-John Villiers, Lord Purbeck, died in 1657, when the titles which
-he bore became extinct. He lived, however, to recover his powers
-of mind, and to act as a friend and guardian to his nephews. Lady
-Purbeck, his first wife, took the name of Wright, and her son, by
-Lord Howard, bore that surname. The once flattered heiress, whose
-follies and misconduct were forgiven, as we have seen, by her
-father, died in 1645, in the King’s Garrison, at Oxford, and she
-is buried in the Church of St. Mary’s, in that city.[139]
-Notwithstanding the misery of his first union, Lord Purbeck
-married again; but had no issue by his second wife, who was a
-daughter of Sir William Thugsby, of Kippen, in Yorkshire.
-
-Footnote 139:
-
- Burke’s Extinct Peerage.
-
-Robert Wright, the illegitimate son of Lady Purbeck, took his wife’s
-name of Danvers, in order to abandon that of Villiers, so
-distasteful to the Commonwealth, with which he sided.
-
-His descendants, nevertheless, laid claim to the honours of the
-first Lord Purbeck--and, although their claim was refused by
-Parliament, assumed them, until, in 1774, the death of the last
-pretender to the title, George Villiers, died without issue.
-
-Christopher Villiers, the youngest brother of the Duke, pre-deceased
-him, dying in 1624. His title became extinct in 1659.
-
-Sir William Villiers, the eldest half-brother of the Duke, had never
-emerged from his original obscurity; but Sir Edward, his other
-half-brother, whom Buckingham constituted President of Munster, was
-highly esteemed for his justice and hospitality, and lamented by the
-whole province.[140] From him, through his son, who had succeeded
-his maternal uncle in the title of Viscount Grandison, was descended
-the famous (or infamous) Barbara Villiers, afterwards Duchess of
-Cleveland, the mistress of Charles II. Her beauty appears to have
-been one of the few traits of the Villiers family that she
-possessed.
-
-Footnote 140:
-
- "In the Earl of Cork’s chapel at Youghal, where he was buried,
- there still remains the following hexastich to his memory:--
-
- “Munster may curse the time that Villiers came
- To make us worse, by leaving such a name
- Of noble parts as none can imitate,
- But those whose hearts are married to the State;
- But if they press to imitate his fame,
- Munster may bless the time that Villiers came.”
- _Biographia Britannica_, vol. vi.
-
-It is remarkable that not one of the titles conferred on the family
-of Villiers by James I. remains to distinguish the descendants of
-old Sir George of Brookesby. The Earldoms of Clarendon and of Jersey
-are subsequent creations.[141]
-
-Footnote 141:
-
- Burke’s Extinct Peerage.
-
-The Duchess of Buckingham, as she still styled herself, appears to
-have lived occasionally at Newhall, for after her daughter’s
-marriage she was very desirous of having her with her--but the King
-would not hear of it; and the soundness of his judgment was proved
-by the conduct of the Duchess. Her life was henceforth occupied in
-bringing over converts to the faith she professed; amongst others
-she succeeded in making a proselyte of the Countess of Newburgh.
-After the death of her father, in 1632, she inherited the title of
-Baroness de Ros. It is remarkable that even in her person the
-honours her first husband had procured for his family did not abide.
-She, indeed, by courtesy, bore still his title, but was actually
-Marchioness of Antrim and Baroness de Ros. So extraordinary an
-acquisition of honours, and so rapid an extinction, are not known in
-any other family of England, but are peculiar to the House of
-Villiers.
-
-Few things disappoint the reader more than the unaccountable change
-in the character of Katharine, Duchess of Buckingham, after she
-ceased, except by courtesy, to bear that name. She seems to have
-hastened, not only to plunge into a second marriage, but to have at
-last avowed, what she had during the whole of her life denied, the
-tenets of the Church of Rome. Henceforth she was opposed to the
-monarch by whom her husband, the Duke, had been overwhelmed with
-benefits. This painful alteration in one so gentle, so forgiving, so
-affectionate in her earlier life, is one of those anomalies in life
-that one cannot cease to regret, without being able to explain.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
-CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM--HIS PATRONAGE OF ART--HIS
- COLLECTION--THE SPANISH COURT DESCRIBED--COLLECTION BY CHARLES
- I.--FATE OF THESE PICTURES.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
-
-Whatever may have been the failings of the Duke of Buckingham as a
-husband, he marked his confidence in his wife by his will. That last
-act of his life gave the Duchess power over all his personal
-property, as well as a life possession of all his mansion-houses,
-with a fourth of his lands in jointure. That his debts were
-considerable, has been amply shewn during the course of the
-preceding narrative. Previous to his expedition to Rhé, he had
-wisely put his revenues into the hands of commissioners, and placed
-it out of his own power to manage or mismanage his own affairs. His
-occupations, as a courtier, as a minister, as an ambassador, and,
-lastly, as a general, sufficiently excuse his want of leisure for
-the control of his expenses, and the system of retrenchment
-requisite to relieve him from harassing liabilities.
-
-He left, however, an immense amount of capital locked up in
-pictures; and that famous collection which places him, as Dr. Waagen
-affirms, in the third rank as “a collector of paintings in this
-country,” came into the possession of his son. It was chiefly
-deposited in York House--that stately structure, so complete and so
-princely, that in 1663, when it had become the residence of the
-Russian embassy, Pepys was still amazed at its splendour, although
-thirty-five eventful years had shaken many a grand fabric to its
-fall. “That,” he says, “which did please me best, was the remains of
-the noble soul of the late Duke of Buckingham appearing in his
-house, in every place, in the door-cases, and the windows.”
-
-It was in the Court of Madrid that Buckingham had learned to love
-art, to favour artists, and to become a judge of their works. Philip
-IV., of Spain, inert and inefficient as a monarch, and governed by
-Olivares, was a man of considerable intellectual powers, and of
-great taste. “The denizens of his palace breathed,” as a modern
-writer expressed it, “an atmosphere of letters.”[142] At that time
-the Castilian stage was in its perfection; the scenery was
-inimitable, and the greatest expense was bestowed in representing
-the pieces of Lope de Vega, and of Calderon; in the same manner as
-the masques of Ben Jonson were aided in effect by the talents of
-Inigo Jones. Nor was Philip IV. a mere patron of genius; he was
-himself an actor and author, writing with purity and elegance: a
-musician, a poet, or, as he delighted to style himself, _Ingenio de
-esto corte_. He wrote a tragedy on the death of Essex, Elizabeth’s
-favourite; and he often acted with other literary men of his Court,
-delighting to vie with them in the display of fancy and humour in
-the _Comedias de repente_, representations resembling those of
-charades in the present day, in which a certain plot was worked out,
-with extempore speeches.
-
-Footnote 142:
-
- Dr. Waagen--Life of Velasquez, p. 48.
-
-Several of this monarch’s drawings, both of figures and landscapes,
-long remained as proofs of that skill which had distinguished both
-his fathers and grandfathers. He was an incomparable judge of
-painting; for at Valencia he delighted the citizens: on being shewn
-the great silver altar of the cathedral, he remarked promptly, that
-"the altar was of silver, but the doors were gold"--alluding to the
-pictures painted by Aregio and Neapoli, which adorned the doors.
-
-It may easily be imagined how the example of this young Prince, only
-in his nineteenth year when Buckingham visited Spain, must have
-awakened in him, as in Charles, a new sense; fresh conceptions of
-the beautiful, cravings hitherto unfelt, an honourable emulation.
-And the example of Philip had its effect on both: the reception
-given to Rubens, who, as an artist, was treated with far greater
-distinction than he would have been as a mere diplomatist, in which
-capacity he came; the efforts of Philip to form an academy of fine
-arts; the honours bestowed on Velasquez; and the enthusiasm which he
-shewed in the collection of fine pictures for the galleries, which
-he so wonderfully enriched, must have proved to Charles and
-Buckingham how far behind was their own country in taste and
-liberality. They saw that the gold of Mexico and Peru was freely
-given for the treasures of art, whilst royalty at home was lavish
-only on pageants, horse-racing, hunting, and feasting. They saw the
-elevating effects of art and letters, and staid not in Spain long
-enough to witness the results of that life-long mistake made by
-Philip IV., in resigning the reins of government to the hands of a
-minister who lost for his sovereign great possessions, far exceeding
-those that many conquerors have acquired.
-
-These refined tastes, which shone forth in Philip, were participated
-by his young and beautiful queen, Isabella of Bourbon, his first
-wife, and the sister of Henrietta Maria. She was the loveliest
-subject of the pencil of Velasquez. At Broom-Hall, in Fifeshire,
-there is a picture by him representing the exchange of this
-Princess, when a girl, with Anne of Austria, the sister of Philip
-IV.
-
-Isabella was destined to be the bride of Philip, then Prince of the
-Asturias--Anne to become the wife of Louis XIII. of France.
-
-This production of Velasquez was only one of many portraits of this
-lovely princess; for she was by all acknowledged to be the very star
-of the Court. She shared the taste of her husband, whilst his young
-brothers, both early instructed in drawing, warmly joined in the
-King’s pursuits, not only in the arts, but in literature. The elder,
-Don Carlos, beloved, as has been stated, by the Spaniards for his
-dark complexion, was supposed to have excited the jealousy of
-Olivares by his talents--he died in 1626: the second, the
-Boy-Cardinal, who assumed the Roman purple and the mitre of an
-archbishop, was the able pupil in painting of Vincencio Carducho,
-and became the most intellectual of the Spanish Princes that had
-appeared since Charles V. He set the fashion of those half-dramatic,
-half-musical pieces, which were called in Spain, _Zarzuelas_.[143]
-The boy--whom we have seen joining heart and soul, in his purple
-robe, and beneath his mitre, in court revels, given in honour of
-Charles I., was, at that very time, a student in philosophy and
-mathematics; and when at the age of twenty-two he was sent to govern
-Flanders, and henceforth to spend the brief span of life allotted to
-him in camps and councils--was still, to the last, the patron of
-Velasquez and Rubens.[144]
-
-Footnote 143:
-
- From the name of his country-seat.
-
-Footnote 144:
-
- The infant Cardinal, the conqueror of Nordlingen, died in 1641.
-
-Olivares the Magnificent, as he was often called, cultivated the
-fine arts as a means of diverting the young monarch from his own
-abuse of power, and the consequent discontents which marked his
-administration. He possessed the most magnificent library in Europe,
-abounding in rare manuscripts, and, domesticated in this house as
-chaplain, Lope de Vega passed his old age. Quevedo, Pachecho, and
-many others, owed much to the patronage of Olivares--a protection
-which they paid back in compliments, and, like Lord Halifax, he was
-“fed with dedications.” Olivares was one of the first sitters to
-Velasquez; he was the patron of Murillo, and, in the downfall of
-this minister, these two painters did not desert their early friend,
-but alone clung to him in his misfortunes.
-
-The King, his Queen, the two royal brothers, and Olivares, had all a
-passion for having portraits taken of themselves. Philip was born
-for a sitter. His face, as Dr. Waagen remarks, “is better known than
-his history.” His pale Flemish complexion, Austrian features, and
-fair hair have been many times depicted by Rubens and Velasquez. He
-was sometimes painted on his Andalusian courser, sometimes in black
-velvet, as he was going to the council--even at his prayers. There
-was an hereditary gift of silence and composure in his race: in
-Philip the attribute was so signal, that he could witness a whole
-comedy without stirring hand or foot, and conduct an audience
-without a muscle moving, except those in his lips and tongue.[145]
-Even after slaying the bull of Xarama, famed for strength and
-fierceness, not for a moment did he change countenance. To this
-incomparable staidness and dignity was added the advantage of a tall
-figure, which Philip knew well how to set off by a perfect mastery
-in combination of colours. Black he mixed almost uniformly with
-white, and gold and silver. This stately monarch was never known to
-smile more than three times in his life--that is, publicly, for in
-private he was ever “full of merry discourses.”
-
-Footnote 145:
-
- Waagen, p. 62. From "Voyage en Espagne"--Cologne, 1662.
-
-Thus, taste, letters in every branch, the noblest works of
-architecture and sculpture, were the themes of a court where those
-who had left behind them the pedantry and vulgarity of King James
-arrived in the vigour of youth and intellect. Velasquez was painting
-a portrait of the King, and one also of the Infant, Don Fernando,
-when Charles and Buckingham arrived at Madrid, and interrupted, by
-their presence and the ceremonials of their reception, the
-completion of these pictures. The astonished Prince and his
-favourite found themselves transformed into a region hitherto
-scarcely dreamed of, yet which they were, by natural refinement of
-taste, well calculated to enter. They had left King James hunting in
-a ruff and bombasted garments; that King hated novelties. “It was as
-well,” Horace Walpole remarks, “that he had no disposition to the
-arts, but let them take their own course, for he might have
-introduced as bad a taste into them as he did into literature.”
-
-Walpole attributes, likewise, the absence of pictures in the houses
-of the English nobility at this period to the great size and height
-of the rooms which they erected in the sixteenth and seventeenth
-centuries, when vastness seems to have constituted the idea of
-grandeur. Pictures would have been lost in rooms of such height,
-which were better calculated for tapestry; and he offers, as an
-instance, Hardwicke--which was furnished for the reception and
-imprisonment of Mary Queen of Scots--and Audley-End, as proofs of
-the prodigious space covered by a modern gentleman’s house in the
-days of James I., and observes how impossible it would have been to
-place pictures in such structures.
-
-One may readily conceive, therefore, the enchantment that was felt
-in visiting the Escurial, the palace of Buen-retiro, and the noble
-churches and famous convents of Madrid. Charles and Buckingham
-beheld that capital in the height of its splendour, and witnessed
-its most brilliant displays; they attended the grand, picturesque
-services and processions; they became acquainted with the works of
-Titian, of Velasquez, and Carducho. That Charles cherished the
-remembrance of the scenes in which he had once played so romantic a
-part, is evident from his employing a young painter, Miquel de la
-Cruz, even when England was threatened with the great Rebellion, to
-paint for him copies of a number of pictures from those in the
-Alcazar of Madrid.[146] The painter was cut off by an early death,
-and the project was never carried out.
-
-Footnote 146:
-
- Waagen; Life of Velasquez, p. 82.
-
-After visiting the halls of the Escurial and of the Pardo, Charles
-resolved to form a gallery of art at Whitehall; and Buckingham, at
-the same time, determined to decorate York House with Spanish
-paintings. The nucleus of the gallery of art at Whitehall was bought
-from the collection of the Conde de Villame. Charles, also,
-endeavoured to purchase a small picture, on copper, of Correggio’s,
-from Don Andres Velasquez, for a thousand crowns, but was
-unsuccessful; he failed, also, in obtaining the valuable volumes of
-Da Vinci’s drawings, which Don Juan de Espina refused to sell,
-saying that he intended to bequeath these treasures of art to his
-master, the King. The nobles in the Spanish Court were in the habit
-of gratifying their young sovereign with presents of pictures and
-statues; and a similar attention was paid both to the Duke of
-Buckingham and to Charles. Philip gave the Prince the famous
-“Antiope,” by Titian; as well as “Diana Bathing,” "Europa," and
-“Danaë,” by the same master. Buckingham had several presents of
-value given him; but though they were packed up, these paintings
-were left behind, in the hurry of departure, and were never
-forwarded to England.
-
-A great portion of the large sums spent by Buckingham in Spain was
-expended in forming that famous collection which fell, unhappily,
-into the hands of his son. It would appear that James I. somewhat
-curtailed Charles’s expenditure on this head; for we find, by an
-entry in the State Paper Office, that Buckingham lent the Prince
-twelve thousand pounds during their sojourn in Spain. Nevertheless,
-no specimen of Spanish art was ever conveyed to England by
-Charles.[147] A sketch was, indeed, begun of the Prince, by
-Velasquez, but it is doubtful if it were ever completed. Pachecho,
-the father-in-law of Velasquez, states that Charles was so delighted
-with this portrait in its unfinished state, that he presented the
-great painter with a hundred thousand crowns.[148] One may readily
-account for its never being completed, because Velasquez, when
-Charles and Buckingham left Madrid, could scarcely have finished the
-portraits and other pictures on which he was engaged by Philip IV.
-
-Footnote 147:
-
- State Papers: Calendar, by Mr. Bruce.
-
-Footnote 148:
-
- Waagen.
-
-In 1847, a picture belonging to Mr. Saare, of Reading, and supposed
-to have been a relic of the gallery of Whitehall, was exhibited in
-London as this lost portrait by Velasquez. It portrays Prince
-Charles in a more robust form, and with a greater breadth of
-countenance than any other known resemblance; and was stated to have
-been painted in 1623, and to have been mentioned in a privately
-printed catalogue of the gallery of the Earl of Fife, who died in
-1809, in which it was stated that it had once belonged to the Duke
-of Buckingham. Unfortunately, the surname of the Duke of Buckingham
-was not specified; and since the title has been owned, so late as
-1735, by the Sheffield family, the evidence was incomplete. A very
-curious controversy ensued, but facts remain much in the same state
-as before; and the authenticity of the portrait has been strongly
-disputed, if not denied, by Dr. Waagen, and others. It is singular
-that there was no work of Velasquez among the pictures left by
-Buckingham.
-
-Whilst the great enlargement of ideas and improvement in taste,
-resulting from the journey into Spain, is acknowledged, it must be
-remembered that Charles and his favourite went, prepared in
-knowledge, and in an honourable emulation, to profit by all they
-might behold and hear. In painting, Perichief tells us, Charles “had
-so excellent a fancy, that he would supply the defect of art in the
-workman, and suddenly draw those lines, give those airs and lights,
-which experience and practice had taught the painters.” In every
-point he met the accomplished Philip IV. on equal grounds; in some
-he exceeded him. A good antiquary, a judge of medals, a capital
-mechanist--cognizant of the art of printing--there existed not a
-gentleman of the three kingdoms that could compete with him in
-universality of knowledge.[149] He was as ready for war as for
-peace; could put a watch together, yet comprehend a fortification;
-understood guns, and the art of ship-building; but the dearest
-occupation of his leisure was the collection of sculptures and
-paintings.
-
-Footnote 149:
-
- Perichief.
-
-The Crown was already in possession of some good pictures, when
-Charles commenced his undertaking. Prince Henry had begun the work,
-and the nobility, perceiving the King’s love of art, imitated the
-Spanish nobles, and sent him presents of great value. But the great
-act of Charles’s life as a connoisseur, was the purchase of the
-collection of the Duke of Mantua, which was considered to be the
-richest in Europe.[150]
-
-Footnote 150:
-
- Walpole, p. 183, vol. v.
-
-Philip IV. constantly employed his ambassadors and viceroys to buy
-up fine pictures for his gallery; and Charles and Buckingham
-likewise, on their return, adopted a similar plan on a smaller
-scale, by instructing Sir Henry Wotton and Balthazar Gerbier to
-negociate for them in works of art. It is obvious how much the royal
-collection at Whitehall must have been prized; since, upon its being
-sold during the Protectorate, the principal purchaser was Don Alonzo
-de Cardenas, the agent of the Spanish King, and his purchases
-required eighteen mules to carry them from the coast to Madrid,
-whence Lord Clarendon, ambassador of the exiled Charles II. was
-dismissed, that he might not see the treasures of his unfortunate
-master thus brought into a far and foreign country.[151]
-
-Footnote 151:
-
- Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion.
-
-The collection of the Duke of Mantua cost Charles eighty thousand
-pounds--Buckingham being the agent, and probably the instigator of
-this purchase. The family of Gonzaga had been, in 1627, a hundred
-years in forming this noble gallery. Little inferior to the Medici
-in their liberality to artists, they were the patrons of Andrew
-Mantegna, of Guido Romano, of Raphael, of Correggio, and of Titian,
-successively. The “Education of Cupid,” by Correggio, was among King
-Charles’s purchases, as well as the “Entombment,” now in the
-Louvre,and the “Twelve Cæsars” by Titian. Rubens purchased for him
-the Cartoons of Raphael, which had been sent by Leo X. to Flanders,
-to be worked in tapestry, and left there. Then Charles received
-various presents; that especially commonly styled the “Venus del
-Pardo,” or more properly “Jupiter and Antiope;” the figures being
-set off by one of the grandest landscapes by Titian, known. This gem
-was given by Charles to the Duke of Buckingham.[152] It is now in
-the Louvre, as is also the “Baptist,” by Leonardo da Vinci, a
-present originally from Louis XIII. to Charles.[153]
-
-Footnote 152:
-
- Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painters; Art. “Charles I.”
-
-Footnote 153:
-
- In the work styled “Art and Artists,” by Dr. Waagen, there is a
- full and most interesting account of all Charles’s collection.
-
-It was during the residence of Buckingham in Paris that he became
-acquainted with Rubens. Eventually he bought the whole of the
-collection of statues, paintings, and other valuable works of art,
-which that master had formed at a cost of about a thousand pounds,
-and which he sold to the Duke for ten thousand. But it was not often
-that Buckingham increased his stores so easily; so early as the year
-1613, he had in his household Balthazar Gerbier d’Ouvilly, of
-Antwerp, a sort of amanuensis, or, as Sanderson styles him, a
-“common penman,” whose transcribing the decalogue for the Dutch
-Church was one of his first steps to preferment. Gerbier became a
-miniature painter, and in that ostensible capacity went into Spain
-with the Duke; he painted, amongst other portraits of the family, a
-fine oval miniature of his patron on horseback, which, in Walpole’s
-time, belonged to the Duchess of Northumberland; the figure, dressed
-in scarlet and gold, is finished with great care--and the horse,
-dark grey, with a white mane, is very animated; underneath the horse
-is a landscape with figures, and over the Duke’s head is suspended
-his motto, “_Fidei curricula crux_.” It was in allusion to the
-well-known talents of Gerbier that the Duchess of Buckingham wrote
-to the Duke, when in Spain, begging him, “if he had leisure to sit
-to Gerbier for his portrait, that she might have it well done in
-little.”
-
-Gerbier seems at that time to have been a special favourite with the
-King and Queen, who supped once at his house--the entertainment, it
-is said, costing the painter a thousand pounds.[154] Gerbier, like
-Rubens, was employed in delicate diplomatic missions; he was also an
-architect and an author, and the founder of an Academy for foreign
-languages, and “for all noble sciences and exercises,” as he
-expressed it. As a diplomatist, Gerbier negociated in Flanders a
-private treaty with Spain:--as an architect, his fame rested, in the
-reign of Charles, chiefly on a large room built near the Water Gate,
-at York Stairs, in the Strand, which was commended by Charles I.
-almost as much as the Banqueting House. Encouraged by this encomium,
-Gerbier wrote a small work on magnificent buildings, proposing to
-level Fleet Street and Cheapside, and to erect a fine gate at Temple
-Bar; a plan of which was presented to Charles II., in whose reign
-Gerbier died. He was the rival, or believed himself to be so, of
-Inigo Jones. Hempstead-Marshal, the seat of Lord Craven, long since
-burned down, was Gerbier’s last effort: he died before it was
-completed, and was buried in the chancel of the church at that
-place.
-
-Footnote 154:
-
- Note in Walpole, p. 189, vol. iii.
-
-His literary works seem to have been very singular compounds of
-falsehood, invective, and flattery. Horace Walpole believes him to
-have been the author of a tract printed by authority, in 1651, three
-years after the execution of Charles I., entitled “The Nonsuch
-Charles, his character,” and considers it one of the basest libels
-ever published. “The style, the folly, the wretched reasoning, are,”
-he observes, “consistent with Gerbier’s usual works; he must, at all
-events,” he decides, “have furnished materials.” Nevertheless, two
-years afterwards, Gerbier published a piece styled “Les Effets
-Pernicieux,” written in French, and to this he affixed his name; it
-was printed at the “Stag,” and composed apparently as a
-precautionary palliative to the other work, in case of the
-restoration of the Stuarts; and the notion seems to have succeeded,
-since Gerbier returned to England with Charles II., and the
-triumphal arches, erected on the Restoration, were designed by this
-singularly versatile man.[155] He had, however, the merit, as we
-have seen, of endeavouring to form an Academy, somewhat on the plan
-of the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street. Sir Francis Keynaston
-at that time resided in Covent Garden, and at his house the Academy
-was held. None but gentlemen were admitted. Arts were taught by
-professors, in lectures, Gerbier being one of the lecturers. The
-academy was afterwards removed to Whitefriars; then to Bethnal
-Green, whence he dedicated one of his lectures on Military
-Architecture to General Skippon, whom he loaded with the most
-fulsome, and from one who had, like himself, been overwhelmed by
-kindnesses from Charles I.--the most treacherous flattery.
-
-Footnote 155:
-
- Walpole, p. 192.
-
-It is unsatisfactory to refer to any statement of Gerbier’s as
-reliable; in a work on “Royal Favourites,” written in French, he
-stated that Dr. Egglisham had applied to him, through Sir William
-Chaloner, to procure his pardon, on condition of his confessing that
-he had been instigated by others to publish his libel on Buckingham.
-Gerbier stated that he had applied to the Secretary of State, but
-received no answer. It is unfortunate that no one could believe
-Gerbier, either when he calumniated or when he excused any
-individual.
-
-It was by this able, scurrilous sycophant that the catalogue of
-Buckingham’s pictures was drawn up. In it were enumerated thirteen
-pictures by Rubens, whom the Duke had seen when he was at Antwerp,
-shortly before the Expedition to Rhé. When, in 1630, the great
-painter came to England as a diplomatist, the Duke was dead, but the
-sovereign who had so greatly encouraged his tastes, did not, as
-Walpole remarks, “overlook in the ambassador the talents of the
-painter.” Rubens painted, for three thousand pounds, the ceiling of
-the Banqueting House built by Inigo Jones--and depicting the
-“Apotheosis of King James;” a subject highly inconsistent for the
-purpose for which it is now most strangely appropriated as a chapel.
-Vandyck was to have adorned the sides with the history of the
-Garter; so that three great masters would have combined to form that
-noblest room in the world; but so grand a possession was not
-destined to be the work of former times, or the pride of our own.
-
-After Buckingham’s death, some of his pictures were bought by the
-King, some by the Earl of Northumberland, and some by Abbot
-Montague.[156] In the collection there were nineteen pictures by
-Titian, seventeen by Tintoret, thirteen by Paul Veronese, twenty-one
-by Bassano, two by Julio Romano, two by Georgione, eight by Palina,
-three by Guido, thirteen by Rubens, three by Leonardo da Vinci, two
-by Correggio, and three by Raphael, besides several by inferior
-masters whose productions are scarce. The great prize of the
-collection was the “Ecce Homo,” of Titian, eight feet in length and
-twelve in breadth. For this magnificent work of art, in which
-portraits of the Pope, the Emperors Charles V. and Solyman the
-Magnificent are introduced, the Earl of Arundel had offered
-Buckingham seven thousand pounds in land or money. The proposal was
-refused, and the “Ecce Homo” shared the fate of many of the other
-pictures in the year 1648.
-
-Footnote 156:
-
- Dr. Waagen says they were sequestrated; but it appears only a
- portion of them were sold by the Parliament--the rest fell into
- the hands of the second Duke of Buckingham.
-
-George, the second Duke of Buckingham, among whose few good
-qualities was a loyal adherence to that family to whom his father
-owed all, after being allowed by the Parliament a period of fifty
-days to choose between desertion of the Stuarts and outlawry, chose
-the latter. His estates were seized, but his father’s pictures, many
-of which still hung on the now gloomy walls of York House, were sent
-to him in his exile at Antwerp, by an old servant, John Traylinan,
-who had been left to guard the property. These were now sold for
-bread. Duart, of Antwerp, purchased some of them, but the greater
-number became the possession of the Archduke Leopold, and were
-removed to the Castle of Prague. Amongst them was the “Ecce Homo;”
-which has been described as embodying the greatest merits of its
-incomparable painter.[157]
-
-Footnote 157:
-
- Biographia, Art. “George Villiers,” the second note.
-
-Buckingham’s collection contained two hundred and thirty pictures.
-One may conceive how grandly they must have adorned York House,
-where in every chamber were emblazoned the arms of the two families,
-lions and peacocks, the houses of Villiers and Manners, who were for
-a few brief years united by one common bond under that roof.[158]
-Neither pains nor money were ever spared by Charles, or by
-Buckingham, to enrich their collections. Charles, with his own
-hands, wrote a letter inviting Albano to England. Buckingham
-endeavoured to attract Carlo Maratti, who had painted for him
-portraits of a Prince and Princess of Brunswick, to the English
-Court; but Maratti excused himself on the plea that he was not yet
-perfect in his art.[159] Little could the King have foretold that
-his treasures at Whitehall would have been sold, as Horace Walpole
-expresses it, by “inch of candle;” or the Duke that his son and heir
-should have parted with his father’s collection to save himself from
-starvation in a foreign country. Such events seem to confirm Sydney
-Smith’s counsel to a friend, not to look forward more than to a
-futurity of two hours’ duration.
-
-Footnote 158:
-
- See Biographia Britannica.
-
-Footnote 159:
-
- Walpole.
-
-Charles I., less happy than Buckingham, had the chagrin to hear that
-his favourite’s beloved collection was partially sold, three years
-before his own death. It seems, as Walpole expresses it, “to have
-become part of the religion of the time to war on the arts, because
-they had been countenanced at Court.” In 1645 the Parliament ordered
-the two collections to be sold; but, lest the public exigencies
-should not be thought to afford sufficient cause for this step, they
-passed the following acts to colour their proceedings:--
-
-“Ordered, (July 23, 1635,) that all such pictures and statues there
-(at York House) as are without any superstition, shall be forthwith
-sold.”[160]
-
-Footnote 160:
-
- Dr. Waagen says that some of the Duke’s pictures were not genuine,
- and many of little worth; but this is not the opinion of Horace
- Walpole.
-
-“Ordered, that all such pictures as shall have the representation of
-the second person in the Trinity upon them shall be forthwith
-burnt.”
-
-"Ordered, that all such pictures there, as have the representation
-of the Virgin Mary upon them, shall be forthwith burnt."[161]
-
-Footnote 161:
-
- Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iii., p. 297--from the
- Journals of the House of Commons.
-
-This, Walpole remarks, was a worthy contrast to Archbishop Laud, who
-made a Star Chamber business of a man’s breaking some painted glass
-in the cathedral at Salisbury. Times were changed; Laud, however,
-looked on the offence as an indication of a spirit of destruction
-and irreverence;--unhappily, he was right.
-
-Such was the fate of Buckingham’s pictures: a brief notice of the
-proceedings which dispersed the far more valuable collection of the
-King must not be omitted. Immediately after Charles’s death, votes
-were passed for the sale of his pictures, statues, jewels, and
-“hangings.” It was then ordered that inventories should be made, and
-commissioners be appointed to appraise, secure, and inventory the
-said goods. Cromwell, to his honour, attempted to stop the
-dispersion of these valuables; but he had matters of even greater
-importance to engage his attention, and the sale, about the year
-1650, appears, as far as the paintings were concerned, to have been
-completed. From that time no further mention of them is to be found
-in the Journals of the House of Commons.[162]
-
-Footnote 162:
-
- Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iii., p. 200.
-
-All the furniture from the ill-fated King’s different palaces was
-brought up, and exposed for sale; and, as far as relates to the
-jewels, plate, and furniture, the affair was not concluded until
-1653. It must, indeed, have been a melancholy sight. Cromwell,
-through his agent, was one of the principal purchasers. The price of
-each article was fixed, but, if any one offered a higher sum,
-preference was given. Cromwell, who resided alternately at Whitehall
-and Hampton Court, bought the Cartoons for 300_l._ The order against
-“superstitious” pieces was not, it seems, strictly observed; for a
-painting of Vandyck’s, “Mary, our Lord, and Angels,” sold for
-40_l._[163] The celebrated portrait of George, the second Duke of
-Buckingham, and his mother, by Vandyck, one of the finest
-productions of that master, was valued at 30_l._, and sold for
-50_l._ Many of the finest pictures were bought by Mons. Jabach, a
-native of Cologne, settled in Paris, who sold his collection
-afterwards to Louis XIV. “The Entombment,” by Titian, which he
-secured, and “Christ and the Disciples at Emmaus,” are in the
-Louvre. Amongst the pictures in the Mantua collection, was the large
-“Holy Trinity;” it was bought by De Cardenas, the Spanish
-Ambassador; and on its arrival Philip IV. exclaimed, "That is my
-pearl"--and the picture has, ever since, been known by that name.
-
-Footnote 163:
-
- Ibid., p. 204.
-
-There were, also, valuable allegorical sketches by Correggio, which
-are among the valuable collection of drawings and designs in the
-Louvre.
-
-The Imperial Gallery of the Palace Belvedere, in Vienna, contains
-several fine pictures from the Whitehall collection. They were
-bought at the sale by the Archduke Leopold William, Governor of the
-Netherlands, and afterwards Emperor of Austria. Reynst, an eminent
-Dutch connoisseur, Christina, Queen of Sweden, and Cardinal Mazarin,
-were amongst the purchasers--but bought still more largely of the
-jewels, medals, tapestry, carpets, embroidery--many of which went to
-adorn Mazarin’s palace in Paris. Bathazar Gerbier, and other
-painters, also purchased pictures--and thus, by their aid, and that
-of some few Englishmen, the wreck of this noble collection may still
-be traced in this country, but the greater portion was lost to it
-for ever. Some miniatures were restored;--the States-General, during
-the reign of Charles II., bought back the pictures formerly sold to
-Reynst, and presented them to Charles II.
-
-By the exertions of that monarch, seventy of the best paintings that
-his father had possessed again adorned his various Palaces. St.
-James’s, Hampton Court, and Windsor were enriched with the works of
-those masters in whose productions Charles I. had so greatly
-delighted. But in Whitehall, the gallery of which was hung with the
-works of Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Titian, Correggio, Vandyck,
-Holbein, Rubens, and many others, had been deposited the finest
-specimens of their works. England seems fated never to contain a
-collection suitable to her wealth, her intelligence, and her
-wishes--for in 1697 that ancient palace, so often partially burnt,
-was destroyed by fire; and within its old walls and many chambers
-perished the various collections of Charles II., both of pictures,
-medals, and sculpture.[164]
-
-Footnote 164:
-
- Dr. Waagen.
-
-Charles I., like all good judges of art, was extremely careful of
-his pictures. Hitherto the Court revels had been held in that
-famous gallery which Charles II. afterwards debased into a resort
-for gamblers and infamous women of rank; and the Banqueting-house
-was next appropriated to them. But during the Christmas of 1637,
-when two masques were to be performed, the King being one of the
-chief dancers, a building, the mere boarding of which cost two
-thousand five hundred pounds, was erected in the main court at
-Whitehall, because the King would not have “his pictures in the
-Banqueting-house burnt with lights.”[165]
-
-Footnote 165:
-
- Dr. Waagen.
-
-The noble portrait by Vandyck, of Charles on horseback, was
-reclaimed from Seemput, a painter, who had bought it at the sale;
-and some few paintings which Catherine of Braganza had coolly
-shipped off to Lisbon, were stopped by the Lord Chamberlain in their
-embarkation.
-
-When the convulsions under which the country groaned had ceased, and
-on the arrival of the Restoration, the nobility, though not
-encouraged by the reigning monarch, introduced the custom of
-adorning their country seats with paintings. “But the pure and
-elevated taste,” as Dr. Waagen expresses it, “of Charles I. had
-degenerated; the names of famous masters were indeed to be found,
-but not their works.”[166]
-
-Footnote 166:
-
- Walpole, p. 188.
-
-Architecture and sculpture were also arts which owe infinitely to
-the judicious patronage of Charles, assisted by Buckingham. Among
-the Mantua collection was a whole army “of old foreign emperors,
-captains, and senators,” whom Charles I., as Walpole tells us,
-“caused to land on his coasts, to come and do him homage, and attend
-him in his palace of St. James’s and Somerset House.”[167] But the
-King also discerned and rewarded native genius; and when he planned
-the noblest palace in the world at Whitehall, sent for no foreign
-architect, but summoned Inigo Jones to his service.
-
-Footnote 167:
-
- Walpole, p. 203.
-
-“England,” says Walpole, “adopted Holbein and Vandyck; she borrowed
-Rubens; she produced Inigo Jones.” Originally a joiner, Jones was
-brought out of obscurity, according to many accounts, by the patron
-who first extended a hand to assist George Villiers in his struggles
-in life. William Earl of Pembroke was the friend alike of the young
-courtier and of the son of the clothworker--the immortal Inigo.
-Either by the Earl of Arundel or by Pembroke--it is not certain
-which--Inigo was sent to Italy to learn landscape-painting; but at
-Rome he soon discovered the inclination and bent of his genius. It
-is of no use to stop the pure and flowing stream, and thus to make
-it turbid. Inigo “laid down his pencil, and conceived Whitehall.”
-Nature had not, he felt, destined him to decorate cabinets; his
-vocation was to build palaces. He was, however, still in danger of
-living in remote splendour. Christian III. enticed him to
-Copenhagen, whence James I. sent for him, and whence he was brought
-to be the Queen’s architect in Scotland. Patronized by Prince Henry,
-he was in despair at the death of that royal youth, and went again
-to Italy. It was in the interval between his two journeys to Rome
-that he perpetrated some buildings in bad taste; to which the
-appellation of “King James’s Gothic” was affixed.
-
-His first task, as Surveyor of the Works, to which office James
-appointed him, was to build, for twenty pounds, a scaffolding, when
-the Earl and Countess of Somerset were arraigned; his next, to
-discover, by King James’s pedantic mandate, who were the founders of
-Stonehenge. In 1619, he was entrusted with the direction of the
-Banqueting-house at Whitehall, which was finished in two years, and
-ordered to draw up a plan for the whole structure.
-
-Horace Walpole, who was a true royalist whenever the arts were
-concerned, if not slyly in every other respect, thus speaks of that
-great but vain effort to build in London a palace worthy of the
-country. “The whole fabric,” he says, referring to Jones’s designs
-for Whitehall, “was so glorious an idea, that one forgets in a
-moment, in the regret for its not being executed, the confirmation
-of our liberties obtained by a melancholy scene that passed before
-the windows of that very Banqueting-house.”[168] The misfortunes of
-this eminent man now began. Inigo Jones was a Roman Catholic, and,
-as such, was peculiarly obnoxious to the Parliament party. His very
-name, too, was mingled with associations of those arts and that
-magnificence, which, from being the cause of envy, were now the
-objects of detestation to certain of the people. “Painting had now,”
-says Walpole, “become idolatry; monuments were deemed carnal pride,
-and a venerable cathedral seemed equally contradictory to Magna
-Charta and the Bible.” Even the statue of Charles at Charing Cross
-was regarded as of ill-omen, and taken away lest it should bring
-back unpleasant recollections.
-
-Footnote 168:
-
- Walpole, p. 270.
-
- “The Parliament did vote it down,
- And thought it very fitting,
- Lest it should fall and kill them all,
- In the house where they were sitting.”
-
-It had become a matter of wonder that society could ever have
-tolerated those masques patronized by James, by Charles, and by
-Buckingham, in which the masks, costumes, and scenes were designed
-by Jones, and the poetry written by Jonson. These representations
-had been indeed interrupted by the quarrel between Inigo Jones and
-Ben Jonson; and in the civil war they ceased entirely. With the
-royal family and their followers literature and the arts were
-banished; they were restored with the monarchy, but good taste was
-not revived. “The history of destruction” superseded that reign of
-elegance and learning which had a brief duration under Charles, and
-which, whilst Buckingham was at the head of affairs, was the
-main-spring of every impulse. “Ruin was the harvest of the Puritans,
-and they gleaned after the reformers.” Of course vengeance fell on
-the unfortunate royal architect and stage manager, Inigo Jones. His
-face had been seen at every gorgeous revel; his hand was traceable
-in many a country seat, even in the picturesque college of St.
-John’s at Oxford; he had designed the chapel of Henrietta Maria at
-St. James’s; he had erected the arcade and church of Covent Garden:
-every familiar scene was haunted with his presence.
-
-The party that condemned him felt neither gratitude nor pity; two
-years before the King’s death, he was fined 500_l._ for malignancy.
-Afraid of a sequestration of all his revenues, he is stated to have
-buried his money, as did Stone, the painter, in Scotland Yard; and
-to have removed it, when fearful of discovery, to Lambeth Marsh. He
-lived to see Cromwell occupy Whitehall, which he had hoped to
-renovate; and to hear that Charles had suffered beneath the very
-windows of that fine and perfect fragment of a palace which was
-still, in spite of all the terrors of that execution, called the
-Banqueting-house; he lived to be called “Iniquity Jones,” by the
-successor of that Earl of Pembroke who had once been his generous
-patron; he lived to learn that the wit, the poetry, the scenery that
-had combined to render the masques at Burleigh a feast not only for
-the senses, but for the intellect, were construed into heathenism.
-All gallantry and romance were gone--and gone for ever; wit, indeed,
-flourished after the Restoration, but it was wit without decency or
-feeling. The old man must have felt that he had lived too long.
-Somerset House had been with great difficulty saved from the
-destruction of the Parliamentary decree; it gave poor Inigo, who
-still appears to have nominally held his former office, a refuge
-wherein he could lay down his head and die. He was buried in the
-church of St. Bennet, at Paul’s Wharf; a monument erected there to
-his memory was destroyed in the Fire of London, and the great
-architect of the Banqueting-house remains without any memorial, save
-the works of his genius.
-
-Vandyck was not settled in England, under the patronage of Charles
-I., until after the death of Buckingham. Mytens, whose position as
-the King’s principal painter was, as he believed, encroached on by
-the celebrity of Vandyck, was patronized by Buckingham, for whom he
-painted a portrait of Sir Jeffrey Hudson.
-
-This little wonder of the seventeenth century was nine years old
-only at the Duke’s death. He had been domesticated at Burleigh on
-account of his diminutive stature, which did not, at that time,
-exceed seven or eight inches. Jeffrey was the plaything of the
-Court: at the marriage-feast of Charles I., the Duchess of
-Buckingham had him inserted in a cold pie, and served up at table to
-the Queen, by way of presenting him to the royal bride, who took him
-in her lap, and kept him. Until the age of thirty, this little
-personage never grew. He then suddenly shot up three feet nine
-inches, which he carried off with infinite dignity, and remained at
-that height. He was still the butt of all the idlers at Whitehall,
-and the theme of a poem, by Davenant, called “Jeffresdos,” the
-subject being a battle between the dwarf and a turkey-cock.
-
-Henceforth he became important--went over to France on a mission of
-great confidence, to fetch an experienced _sage-femme_ for the
-Queen--was taken by the Pirates off Dunkirk on his return--was
-rescued, only to encounter the incessant raillery of the courtiers,
-which, to a man of his present size and importance, became
-exasperating. Faithful and trusty, he went with Henrietta Maria into
-France, and there, being goaded on by renewed insults from a Mr.
-Crofts, sent a challenge. Crofts came to fight him provided only
-with a squirt; the duel was to be on horseback, and with pistols,
-that Jeffrey, or, as he had now become, Sir Jeffrey, might be more
-on a level with his antagonist. By the first shot, Crofts was struck
-dead. The next event in this adventurous life was the capture of
-Jeffrey by a Turkish rover, during one of his voyages; he was sold
-as a slave, and taken into Barbary; he was, however, ransomed, or
-set free, so as to resume his attendance on the Queen. After the
-Restoration, he was suspected of being concerned in the Popish plot,
-and confined in the Gate House at Westminster. Here, a life that had
-been rendered worthy of record even by his very littleness was
-closed, in 1682; his old enemy, a gigantic porter at Whitehall in
-Charles’s time, with whom the little creature was in incessant
-strife, having long since been displaced--and another giant, Oliver
-Cromwell’s porter, established in his stead.
-
-On Mytens the office of his Majesty’s “picture-drawer in ordinary,
-with a fee of 20_l._ per annum, was conferred in 1625, procured by
-the agency of Endymion Porter, who was the servant and relative of
-Buckingham, from the Duke.”[169]
-
-Footnote 169:
-
- Walpole, p. 151, 152.
-
-Incited by the example of the Earl of Arundel, who employed a Mr.
-Petty to collect antiquities in Greece, Buckingham despatched for
-the same purpose Sir Thomas Roe, telling him, in explaining his
-wishes, that “he was not so fond of antiquity as to court it in a
-deformed or unshapen stone.”[170] Lord Arundel had begun to
-“transplant old Greece into England.” His agent, Petty, was
-indefatigable, “eating with Greeks on their work days, and lying
-with fishermen with planks,” so that he might obtain his ends. This
-valiant antiquary lost all his curiosities on returning from Samos,
-and was imprisoned as a spy, but, regaining his liberty, set forth
-again to his researches with the energy of a Layard.[171]
-
-Footnote 170:
-
- Walpole, p. 206. Note. From Peacham’s “Complete Gentleman.”
-
-Footnote 171:
-
- The fate of the Arundelian marbles is stated by Walpole to have
- been as follows:--They came into the elder branch of the family,
- the Dukes of Norfolk, and were sold by the Duchess, who was
- divorced in the time of George II., to the Earl of Pomfret for
- 300_l._ The Countess of Pomfret, great-grandmother to the present
- Earl, gave them to the University
-
-The principal medallist in the time of Charles I. was Andrew
-Vanderdort, a Dutchman, also patronized by Prince Henry. Upon the
-accession of Charles, Vanderdort was made keeper of the King’s
-cabinet of medals, with a salary of 40_l._ This cabinet or museum
-was contained in a room in Whitehall, running across from the Thames
-towards the Banqueting-house, and fronting the gardens westward. By
-Vanderdort the coins of the realm were designed; and to the
-commission to perform that work was added an injunction that he
-should superintend the engravers. To Vanderdort was once confided
-the preparing of the catalogue of the Royal collection, written in
-bad English, and preserved in the Ashmolean Museum, at Oxford. It is
-related of him, that, being entrusted with a miniature by Gibson,
-the “Parable of the Lost Sheep,” he laid it up so carefully, that,
-when asked for it by the King, he could not find it, and hung
-himself from grief.[172]
-
-Footnote 172:
-
- Walpole.
-
-It was owing to the suggestions of Buckingham that the great
-portrait-painter, Gerard Honthorst, was invited by Charles I. to
-England. Honthorst of Oxford. was a native of Utrecht, but had
-completed his education at Rome. He had many pupils in painting of
-high rank, and amongst them were Elizabeth of Bohemia and her
-daughters, the Princess Sophia, mother of George I., and the
-Princess Louisa, afterwards Abbess of Maubissen, being the most apt
-scholars of that family. It was owing to the early culture of the
-arts which both the sons of James I. had enjoyed, that it became an
-easy task for Buckingham to incite Charles to the patronage of great
-masters in afterlife. Solomon de Caus, a Gascon, was the instructor
-of Prince Henry, and probably of Charles, who inherited the pictures
-and statues which his brother had collected. Honthorst probably
-improved by his lessons the taste that had been already so well
-cultivated. At Hampton Court, a large picture on the staircase
-sometimes rivets attention, without conferring pleasure--for the
-taste for allegorical paintings has long since been extinct. It
-delineates Charles and his Queen as Apollo and Diana in the clouds;
-the Duke of Buckingham, as Mercury, is introducing them to the Arts
-and Sciences, whilst genii are driving away Envy and Malice. This,
-and other paintings, were completed by Honthorst in six months; the
-King giving him three thousand florins, a service of silver plate
-for twelve persons, and a horse. He also painted portraits of the
-Duke and Duchess of Buckingham, sitting with their two children; and
-it was likewise the Duke’s fancy to have a large picture by him,
-representing a tooth-drawer, with many figures introduced around the
-operation.
-
-Horatio Gentileschi, a native of Pisá, was one of those who
-contributed alike to the collection of Charles and to the glories of
-York House, which, long before Buckingham’s death, had, we are told,
-become the admiration of the world.
-
-Gentileschi was treated with a degree of liberality that was quite
-congenial to the feelings of Buckingham: he was invited to England,
-and rooms were provided for his use, and a considerable salary
-advanced to him. Some of the painted ceilings in Greenwich Palace
-were his work; and he ornamented York House in a similar manner.
-When it was dismantled, one of the ceilings was transplanted to
-Buckingham House, in St. James’s Park, the seat of Sheffield, Duke
-of Buckingham. He also painted the Villiers family, and, by the
-Duke’s order, a Magdalen, lying in a grotto, contemplating a
-skull--a strange subject for the worldly and high-spirited
-Buckingham to select. But the delight of Charles and of his
-favourite was Nicholas Lanière, meritorious as a painter, engraver,
-and musician. It was Lanière who composed the music for some of Ben
-Jonson’s masques, in recitative. Lanière, after the death of
-Charles, set to music a funeral hymn written by Thomas Pierce. As a
-composer, he was salaried by Charles with two hundred a-year. He
-had, however, also painted pictures for King James; and it is stated
-that Buckingham, not being able to induce that monarch to reward him
-adequately, gave Lanière three hundred pounds at one time, and five
-hundred at another, from his own means.[173] Lanière had been
-instrumental in the negociation for the Mantua collection. After the
-death of Charles he was one of those painters who viewed with deep
-concern the dispersion of the Whitehall collection; and bought
-several pictures at the sale of what he had contributed to enrich.
-
-Footnote 173:
-
- Biograph. Brit., Art. “Villiers.” Note.
-
-Whilst ceilings were painted, pictures distributed on richly-carved
-panels, and in spacious galleries, there was even an attempt in
-those days to decorate with frescoes the exterior of houses, as in
-Bavaria, where even the dwellings of superior farmers are sometimes
-adorned in that manner. Francis Cleyn, a Dane, was called to England
-in the reign of James I., in order to improve also the manufacture
-of tapestry at Mortlake, to which James had contributed two thousand
-pounds. Hitherto, Sir Francis Crane, the proprietor, had worked only
-on old patterns; Cleyn brought new and original designs to the aid
-of the tapestry-workers. Five of the cartoons were sent by Charles
-to be copied. Cleyn also painted the outside of Wimbledon House in
-fresco; he designed one of the chimney-pieces in Holland House, and
-gave the drawings for two chairs, carved and gilt, with shells for
-backs, still there. In every possible department art was called into
-play. Drawings for the great seals were made by Cleyn. He published
-books for “carvers and goldsmiths.” Nothing was to be tasteless,
-clumsy, or inappropriate; and, with this spirit abroad, it is not
-surprising that the little that the Rebellion spared should be
-models for our own conservative generation.
-
-Whilst Villiers employed portrait-painters on himself and on his
-family, he did not forget the old man at Brookesby, long since gone
-to the grave. Cornelius Jansen, by his order, painted a portrait of
-his father; probably from some family picture. It was in the
-possession of Horace Walpole, “less handsome,” he says, “but
-extremely like his son.”
-
-The patronage extended by Charles I. to architects[174] was often
-directed by Buckingham; for the King and the favourite had but one
-soul between them. To exalt and improve the art of painting, they
-summoned foreign architects as well as painters to England,
-remunerated them liberally, and treated them with the courtesy due
-to one of the noblest of professions. Charles delighted to dabble
-with his brush on the canvas, his hand directed by the master, with
-whom he sat for hours. Buckingham’s few leisure days were devoted to
-his buildings and paintings. Amongst the English builders who worked
-at the Banqueting-house, under Inigo Jones, was Nicholas Stone, who
-was in 1619 appointed master-mason to the King, at the usual salary,
-of twelve pence a-day; but the extra work he executed for Charles
-was amply paid; and his salary during the two years he worked at
-Whitehall amounted to four shillings and tenpence the day.[175]
-Nicholas Stone designed four of the dials at St. James’s and
-Whitehall.[176] He rebuilt the fountains at Theobald’s and Nonsuch;
-his drawings are, it is to be feared, lost. He was the statuary
-employed by the Countess of Dorset to set up at Westminster the
-monument of Spenser the poet, for which he was paid forty pounds.
-His great talent lay in tombs; amongst others, he erected one for
-the Countess of Buckingham, the Duke’s mother, three years after her
-son’s death, in 1631, in Westminster Abbey, for which he received
-560_l._ Doubtless, therefore, he was continually employed by
-Buckingham, and Stone’s various performances must have been just
-what the Duke required. He was the modest architect, who did not
-disdain to form and chisel the piers for gates--Inigo Jones
-designing them,--at Holland House. He built the great gate of St.
-Mary’s Church at Oxford, and the stone gates for the Physic Garden
-in that city,--also designed by Inigo. The figure of the Nile at
-Somerset House was by Stone; his skill, like that of Inigo, is
-familiar to us, though we may almost have forgotten the hand that
-had so much “cunning.” At York House, at Wanstead, New Hall and
-Burleigh, his fine face, with his love-locks, his plain collar, and
-tight doublet, were, we may be sure, often to be seen before ruin
-and desertion darkened those once splendid homes of Villiers.
-
-Footnote 174:
-
- Walpole, p. 149, _passim_.
-
-Footnote 175:
-
- Walpole, p. 166.
-
-Footnote 176:
-
- There were five dials at Whitehall; a Mr. Gunter drew the lines,
- and wrote a pamphlet on the use of them, in 1624. “One, too,” says
- Horace Walpole, “may still be extant.” Vertue saw them at
- Buckingham House, from whence they were sold.
-
-Few men, it must be acknowledged, in so brief a space, have done
-more for the arts in this country than George Villiers. By
-Charles, his friend and sovereign, who survived him twenty years,
-much more was effected. Without their unceasing efforts, without
-even the almost pardonable extravagance that was directed to
-purposes so refined, England would almost have been devoid of
-paintings by the greatest masters, and, what would be almost
-worse, destitute of the love and reverence for high art which has
-come down to us from the time of Charles I., and which is now
-cherished, though unconsciously, in the breast of the poor
-artisan, as in that of the richest peer or commoner. The crowds
-who not only throng, but enjoy, the galleries of Hampton
-Court--and, still more, the humble visitors from the Faubourg St.
-Antoine and the Marais to the Louvre, on Sundays, in Paris--prove
-that a love of what is true and holy, and even sublime, in
-pictures, exists intuitively in the uncultivated mind, as well as
-in the highest intelligence of the soul. Those who called from its
-latent recesses this love of art in the seventeenth century are
-greatly entitled to the gratitude of that age to which the
-luxuries of music and painting are become necessities.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER V.
-
-PATRONAGE OF THE DRAMA BY CHARLES AND THE DUKE OF
- BUCKINGHAM--MASSINGER--BEN JONSON--THEIR CONNECTION WITH THE
- COURT, AND WITH THE DUKE.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-
-After considering the benefits conferred by Charles I. and his
-favourite on art, and detailing their patronage of eminent masters,
-one turns, naturally, to the literature of the day, and more
-especially--as subsidiary to music and painting--to the drama.
-
-The accession of James I. opened fairer prospects to dramatists than
-they had enjoyed in the days of Elizabeth, who paid as grudgingly
-for her amusements as for the services of her statesmen. To her
-“Master of the bears and dogs” she assigned a salary of a farthing a
-day only.[177] Yet the office was sometimes held by a Knight; and,
-during the “princely pleasures of Kenilworth,” of which bear-baiting
-formed a prominent feature, by no less opulent a person than Edward
-Alleyn, the actor, and founder of Dulwich College. Little but
-honour, therefore, had accrued, in the time of Elizabeth, to poets
-and play-writers; and the struggling authors were obliged to have
-recourse to a more liberal patronage than that of the Court--until
-James I., somewhat “of a poet, but more of a scholar,” promoted,
-with an extravagant zeal, the diversions which his taste disposed
-him to enjoy. Plays, which his predecessor had deemed likely to draw
-her younger subjects from the manlier recreations of bear-baiting
-and hunting, were patronized in high quarters, and were henceforth
-the fashionable diversions notwithstanding the invectives of the
-Puritans, both of the Court, and in the provincial castles of the
-nobility at a distance from London.
-
-Footnote 177:
-
- Note in Hartley Coleridge’s Introduction to Massinger’s Plays, p.
- 32.
-
-Independently of the delights of the masque, which comprised both
-music, dancing, and poetry, there were pleasures to be found in the
-drama which accorded with the tendencies and failings of that
-period.
-
-It was an age of personality, a disposition to which existed as
-strongly in the unrefined court of James, and even among his
-northern retainers, as in the brilliant galleries of Versailles,
-encouraged by Louis XIV., and led by the dangerous and witty St.
-Simon. “The great eye of the world,” says an able writer, “was not
-then, any more than now, so intent on things and principles as not
-to have a corner for the infirmities of individuals.”[178] Wilson,
-Weldon, Winwood, Osborne, Peyton, Sanderson, circulated what were in
-many instances fabrications about the higher classes; whilst the
-crimes and absurdities of the lower orders were celebrated by the
-ballad-mongers, or dramatized for the stage. Many of those ballads
-transmitted to us, which were exempted from the fate of “damn’d
-ditties,” were founded on authentic domestic tragedies, the actors
-in which have long since passed into oblivion. The ballad, which
-afforded the multitude a pleasing insight into the fact that their
-superiors were no better than themselves, was the most popular
-literature of the day. Sung to doleful tunes, with a nasal twang,
-they called forth the satire of the dramatist, who aimed at a higher
-species of personality, and who deprecated these, often scurrilous,
-productions; which were, at length, checked in the time of Swift by
-the imposition of a penny stamp on every loose sheet. The ballad was
-a source of dread to the tavern bully, whose iniquities it exposed.
-
-“If I have not ballads made of you all, and sung to filthy tunes,
-may this cup of sack be my poison,” says Falstaff.
-
-Footnote 178:
-
- Hartley Coleridge, p. 9.
-
- “Now shall have we damnable ballads out against us,
- Most wicked madrigals.”
- _Humorous Lieutenant._
-
-Whilst the attention of society was not altogether fixed on exalted
-members only, it was found difficult to restrain satire, and even
-calumny, from introducing living characters on the stage, and from
-depicting them with hateful qualities, and in invidious situations.
-
-In vain did the Master of the Revels, who was under the peculiar
-influence of the Court, endeavour to control the disposition to
-personality which characterized even many of the plays acted before
-James I. and his son. In these compositions the public acquired that
-insight into conduct and peculiarities which is now derived from
-periodical papers, or from diaries, letters, and autobiographies, in
-which our age is especially fertile.
-
-Amongst the dramatists of James and Charles’s reigns, we may take,
-as the most remarkable, Philip Massinger, Ben Jonson, Beaumont and
-Fletcher, and John Ford, the greater part of whose works were
-produced during the life of King James and of Charles I. and II.
-
-The biography of each of these celebrated men elucidates much of the
-manners and temper of the times, and their history comprises that of
-this species of literature during the commencement and middle of the
-seventeenth century.
-
-Philip Massinger was the son of Arthur Massinger, a retainer in the
-household of the Earl of Pembroke. A retainer was often a gentleman
-of good birth but small means, and this was probably the condition
-of Arthur Massinger, who, from his carrying letters from his master,
-the Earl, to Queen Elizabeth, could not have been a man of low
-origin, else he would not have been admitted to the honour of
-conveying any dispatch to one who placed so much importance on
-lineage in those who entered her presence. That custom was still in
-force, which surrounded a nobleman, not with menials, but with a
-middle-class of bondmen, who thought service no degradation. It was
-esteemed a turn of fortune when a youth of gentle birth could be
-introduced into some noble house, to learn therein politeness,
-chivalrous attention to ladies, and to imbibe, from example and
-precept, that loyalty which was then considered a sort of virtue.
-The education and training of a page is now confined to royal
-courts; but there were, in England, in those days of the Tudors and
-Stuarts, many minor courts, which exacted, in miniature, the duties
-and service that existed in the palaces of the monarch. And of those
-stately and wealthy patrons, none were more respected than the
-Herberts, Earls of Pembroke, to whom Arthur Massinger wrote himself
-“Bondman.”
-
-That wholesome discipline which it is difficult in our own time for
-a parent to preserve over his family was maintained to the advantage
-of a page who rose from a lowly to a confidential situation.
-Massinger’s lines in the “New Way to Pay Old Debts” refer to the
-subjection under which the youth groaned, but to which the matured
-actors on this world’s stage looked back with gratitude:--
-
- “Art thou scarce manumised from the porter’s lodge,
- And now sworn servant to the pantofle,
- And darest thou dream of marriage?”
- _New Way to Pay Old Debts._
-
-Yet in this servitude the father of Philip Massinger lived and died.
-These grand establishments, in which the noble head saw around him
-none but persons of gentle blood and breeding, would long since have
-ceased to be congenial, even if they still existed, to the English
-notions of independence, by which servitude is confounded with
-slavery. But they had this advantage--the son of a retainer was
-supposed to have a claim on the illustrious noble, who estimated his
-father’s fidelity and offices; and that this was the case with
-Philip Massinger, might seem probable from the advantages of
-education which he was enabled to derive; and the value of which he
-had learned to appreciate, in the proximity to the really noble and
-intellectual family of Herbert. It appears from Philip Massinger’s
-dedication of the “Bondman,” that he never had any personal
-communication with Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery; but that
-is no proof that he may not have been indebted for the advantage of
-a university education to the far more intellectual and estimable
-Henry, Earl of Pembroke, his father’s patron, as appears from the
-following passage in the dedication of the “Bondman” to the Earl of
-Montgomery:--
-
-“However, I could never arrive at the happiness to be made known to
-your lordship; yet a desire born with me, to make a tender of all
-duties and service to the noble family of the Herberts, descended to
-me as an inheritance from my dead father, Arthur Massinger. Many
-years he happily spent in the service of your honourable house, and
-died a servant in it, leaving his to be ever most glad and ready to
-be at the command of all such as derive themselves from his most
-honoured master, your lordship’s most honoured father.”[179]
-
-Footnote 179:
-
- Massinger’s Works, edited by Hartley Coleridge, p. 74.
-
-It would be agreeable to reflect that Massinger had passed his
-childhood and youth, partly at all events, in the classical region
-of Wilton Castle, which Sir Philip Sidney had almost sanctified to
-the Muses by his presence, and whence he had issued forth on that
-expedition in which he died a hero’s death. But those were not the
-days in which the childhood and youth of celebrated men were
-recorded, and of Massinger’s not a trace remained. We only guess at
-the early influences which formed his imaginative, yet vigorous
-mind. We only conjecture that his taste was directed to poetry by
-the taste of those whom he must have learned first to respect. We
-are not sure, yet we are glad to believe, that whilst his mind took
-on afterwards the impressions of the age in which he lived, it was
-in earliest youth incited by the author of the “Arcadia,” and by the
-acquirements of her to whom that poem was dedicated, to culture and
-exercise, until circumstances brought its powers into full activity.
-
-The dedication of the “Bondman” was written in 1624; and whilst it
-shews that the poet had never seen Philip, Earl of Montgomery, it
-does not follow, as has been stated, that he was _not_ reared at
-Wilton during the life-time of Henry, Earl of Pembroke, the “noble
-father” of Philip, who, as a younger son, was created Earl of
-Montgomery, and long known by that title only. Henry, who was
-succeeded by his eldest son, the second Earl of Pembroke, died in
-1600; and since Massinger was born in 1584, it is extremely probable
-that he passed his childhood at Wilton, although, in compliance with
-the custom of the age, he was probably sent out to nurse. Even the
-name of his mother is unknown. Few authors of so much merit as
-Massinger have been, as Hartley Coleridge observes, “so little
-noticed by contemporaries;” and none so soon forgotten by succeeding
-times.
-
-There can, however, be but little doubt that Philip Massinger
-imbibed at Wilton that value for letters which is so soon caught by
-children from the society of the intellectual; and that a gentler
-influence than that of Earl Henry stimulated the natural
-inclinations of his mind. A learned education for women of rank was
-in vogue for nearly a century after the Reformation: with
-Protestantism came in the notion that the female understanding was
-worthy of high cultivation; and our earliest and most superior
-women, in those times, were prepared for their important part in
-life by a sound and almost masculine training. Witness the learning
-of Lady Jane Grey, of Queen Elizabeth, of Joanna, Lady Abergavenny,
-whom Walpole believes to have been the “foundress of that noble
-school of female learning, of which (with herself) there were,” he
-says, “no less than four authoresses in the three descents.”[180]
-Among the learned and the virtuous none was more esteemed in her
-time than Mary, the sister of Sir Philip Sidney, and the third wife
-of Henry, Earl of Pembroke, the son of Arthur Massinger’s patron.
-She was one of those ornaments of her age who added lustre to her
-station without forfeiting one feminine attribute. What was then
-called a “polite education” comprised not only the acquisition of
-light literature, but that also of classical learning. From her
-mother, Lady Mary Dudley, this admirable woman inherited a noble and
-congenial spirit; from her father, Sir Henry Sidney, surpassing
-abilities, moral excellencies, enlarged views, generous motives.
-That father, superior to the venal courtiers of his time, spent his
-whole fortune in his endeavours to benefit Ireland and Wales, of the
-affairs of which he held the administration. In her brother, Sir
-Philip Sidney, the Countess of Pembroke found a companion in all her
-pursuits, as well as in affection. Hence, as Spenser wrote, their
-minds grew in unison:--
-
- “The gentlest shepherdess that liv’d that day,
- And most resembling, both in shape and spirit,
- Her brother dear.”
-
-In conjunction with him, this gifted woman is said to have
-translated the Psalms;[181] of which effort Daniel says:--
-
- “Those hymns which thou dost consecrate to Heaven,
- Which Israel’s singer to his God did frame,
- Unto thy voyage eternity hath given,
- And makes thee dear to Him from whence they came.”
-
-Footnote 180:
-
- Joanna, Lady Abergavenny, Mary Arundel, Catherine Grey, Mary
- Duchess of Norfolk. See “Royal and Noble Authors.”
-
-Several of these are extant; one of them was published in the
-_Guardian_;[182] and it corresponds with a Psalm printed in the
-“_Nugæ Antiquæ_” as the Countess of Pembroke’s.[183] It has been
-regretted that these productions are not authorized to be sung in
-churches; for the present version, Mr. Hartley Coleridge remarks,
-“is a disgrace and a mischief to the establishment.” These
-translations are preserved in the library at Wilton.
-
-Footnote 181:
-
- Horace Walpole’s “Royal and Noble Authors,” vol. ii., p. 308.
-
-Footnote 182:
-
- No. 7.
-
-Footnote 183:
-
- Ibid.
-
-The Countess was residing there when the “Discourse of Life and
-Death,” by Mornay, which she translated from the French, was
-printed. This was in 1590, when Philip Massinger was six years of
-age. She survived until 1621; and, since she extended her patronage
-both to arts and letters, it is probable that she not only
-befriended Ben Jonson, but that she encouraged and assisted the
-struggling dramatist, whose father had been so favoured or retained
-in her husband’s house. Ben Jonson’s well-known lines on her tomb
-have challenged various criticisms. Whilst by some they are deemed a
-tribute “which have never been exceeded in the records of monumental
-praise,”[184] by another critic they are considered “too
-hyperbolical, too clever, and too conceited to be inscribed on a
-Christian’s tomb.”[185]
-
-Footnote 184:
-
- Note in Parke’s edition of “Royal and Noble Authors.”
-
-Footnote 185:
-
- Hartley Coleridge.
-
- “Underneath this marble hearse
- Lies the subject of all verse--
- Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother;
- Death, ere thou canst find another,
- Learned, and fair, and good as she,
- Time shall throw a dart at thee.”
-
-At all events, Massinger imbibed from his father’s connection with
-the Herbert family, one taste--that for theatricals. Amongst the
-retinue of the great peer, was a company of itinerant performers,
-“the Earl of Pembroke’s players;” and though the childhood of
-Massinger is indeed a blank, it maybe inferred that the attractions
-of the theatre, or rather of the hall, in which that portion of the
-Earl’s household must have been frequently occupied, were such as to
-fascinate a boy of an imaginative turn of mind. He is stated to have
-been shy, melancholy, retiring, and studious; that he received a
-classical education, as a boy, is also stated; but when that
-education was received, who directed that thoughtful and dreamy mind
-to poetry, or how he, who was evidently designed for a scholastic
-career, should have devoted himself to the profession of a
-play-writer, does not appear to have been ascertained, even by the
-indefatigable Gilford.
-
-But it was an age of great mental energy, and there was sufficient
-in the rich harvest won by Shakspeare, or in the rare delights
-afforded by his works, to account for the direction of young
-Massinger’s genius.
-
-It has been conjectured, also, that he acted occasionally in those
-plays the parts of which were then usually sustained by boys: of
-this there remains not a single proof, and nothing is _certain_, in
-so far as the events of his youth are concerned, except that he was
-entered at St. Alban’s Hall, Oxford, in 1601-2.
-
-It must not be supposed that this fact at all implied what in the
-present day it might appear to indicate. It did not follow that
-Massinger was to enter one of the learned professions, because he
-became a commoner in that small, ancient society of St. Alban’s
-Hall; nor was it a proof that the young man had parents who were in
-affluent circumstances, as a University career now seems to imply.
-Oxford was then a place for cheap education, and many of the “poor
-scholars” at the various colleges underwent, as Strype shews us,
-great hardships. On the other hand, it was not uncommon for the
-profession of letters to be in those days a man’s only calling; and
-an academical training was his best commencement in that arduous
-course, since a certain display of erudition was undoubtedly one of
-the characteristics of the period.
-
-The exhibition to college was, according to Anthony Wood, given to
-Massinger by the Earl of Pembroke; but others allege that Massinger
-derived the means of subsistence at Oxford from his father.
-
-In those schools, where a man for the first, and perhaps for the
-only, time in his existence, frames his own success, independently
-of the patronage of others--in those schools, famed for
-strict impartiality, and where the battle is really to the
-strong--Massinger, nevertheless, did not appear. He left Oxford
-without taking his degree; for he had made the mistake, fatal to a
-poor man, who has to rest upon the endowments of that grand old
-university for his support, of not adopting the studies which the
-university prescribes to the exclusion of others. It was, indeed, a
-sin in the eyes of that zealous antiquary, whose tomb, in a corner
-of the anti-chapel of Merton College, is so often overlooked, save
-by those who honour his labours, and who view his merits, thus
-enshrined, with regretful reverence--that he gave his mind, as
-Anthony Wood tells us, “more to poetry or romance, for about four
-years or more, than to logic and philosophy, which he ought to have
-done, as he was patronized _to that end_.”
-
-He adds, without further comment than this, “that, being
-sufficiently famed for several specimens of wit, he betook himself
-to writing plays.” Massinger left Oxford in 1606--he was then
-twenty-two years of age.
-
-For some time his history is again a blank, and his exertions and
-struggles, whatever they may have been, fell upon a serious,
-religious, thoughtful temperament, devoid of the elasticity with
-which Shakespeare fought and conquered the trials of fate.
-Play-writing was, at that time, almost the only means by which ready
-money could be obtained, and had the patronage of the Court in full
-activity, when Massinger cast himself into his future and only
-career. James I., soon after his accession, licensed the company of
-players who had hitherto been styled the “Lord Chamberlain’s,” but
-who were henceforth to be called "the King’s servants"--amongst whom
-were Shakspeare, Burbage, Heminge, and others. Queen Anne adopted
-the “Earl of Worcester’s company,” and Prince Henry that of the Earl
-of Nottingham, the hero of the “Armada.” The Court, and even
-provincial nobles and gentry, although Protestantized, kept, with as
-scrupulous attention as ever, the great feasts of the Church; and on
-these, as in former times a mystery or morality was given, so now a
-play was often performed. “The stage,” says Hartley Coleridge, “was
-evoking and realizing the finest imaginations of the strongest
-intellects.”
-
-Whether Massinger ever acted or not, is as doubtful as every other
-incident of his early life. It was not until 1614 that a glimmering
-of his actual condition in life is seen through the darkness, and
-the disclosure is melancholy and discouraging. There is something
-touching, as well as dreary, in the gloom that one can only
-diversify with scenes of penury and imprisonment for debt. At last
-the light breaks out; and, in the words of the following appeal, the
-history of some years of disappointment is disclosed:--[186]
-
-"To our most loving friend, Mr. Philip Hinchlow, Esquire, these,--
-
-“Mr. Hinchlow--You understand our unfortunate extremitye, and I doe
-not thinke you so void of cristianitee but that you would throw so
-much money into the Thames as wee request now of you, rather than
-endanger so many innocent lives. You know there is X_l._ more at
-least to be receaved of you for the play. We desire you to lend us
-V_l._ of that; which shall be allowed to you, without which we
-cannot be bayled nor I play any more till this be dispatch’d. It
-will lose you XX_l._ ere the end of the next weeke, besides the
-hindrance of the next new play. Pray, sir, consider our cases with
-humanity, and now give us cause to acknowledge you our true friend
-in time of neede. Wee have entreated Mr. Davison to deliver this
-note, as well as witness your love as our promises and always
-acknowledgement to be ever your most thankful and loving
-friends,[187]
-
- ”PHILIP MASSINGER.
- “R. DAVISON.
- ”NAT. FIELD."
-
-Footnote 186:
-
- This letter was discovered by Malone, in Dulwich College. There is
- no date on it, but Mr. Payne Collier dates it in 1614, eight years
- before the publication of the “Virgin Martyr.”
-
-Footnote 187:
-
- Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxiii.
-
-This letter is the only one with the signature of Philip Massinger
-extant. It was addressed to a pawnbroker--such was Philip Hinchlow,
-who, besides exercising that ancient profession, was also engaged in
-theatrical speculations, his advances being chiefly made upon the
-wearing apparel and properties, of which he acquired a large portion
-in this way. “A comfortable sort of person,” remarks Hartley
-Coleridge, “for three poets to be obliged to.” Especially when they,
-as it were, pledged to him the labour of their brains; and that when
-they were either already in prison, or afraid of that crisis in
-their miserable destiny. Nathaniel Field, the writer of this letter,
-was Massinger’s partner in the production of the “Fatal Dowry;” he
-had a share in the Globe and Blackfriar’s Theatres, in conjunction
-with Burbage, the original _Richard III._, _Hamlet_, and _Othello_;
-and with Lowin, the original _Falstaff_. Field was also an actor,
-and he performed in Ben Jonson’s masque, “Cynthia’s Revels,” in
-1600, when he appeared as one of the children of the Queen’s chapel.
-Robert Daborne was a man of good descent, a scholar and a clergyman,
-although the author of several plays; nor was he the only clerical
-dramatist in an age which was, indeed, "not an innocent one"--for
-Cartwright, also a play-writer, was a divine, and, as Fuller states,
-“a florid and seraphical preacher.”[188]
-
-Footnote 188:
-
- Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxv.
-
-It has been remarked that the “Fatal Dowry” was like the production
-of a man in debt. Massinger might refer to his own case when he
-wrote:--
-
- “I will not take
- One single piece of this great heap. Why should I
- Borrow that I have no means to pay; nay, am
- A very bankrupt, even in flattering hope,
- Of ever raising any.”
-
-In addition to his poverty, to hard work, and the degradation of
-debt, Massinger was fully conscious that he had not, in giving up
-the certainty of a profession, attained a position in society. The
-dramatist’s occupation was scarcely, in those times, considered a
-creditable employment.[189] By the Puritans it was deemed sinful--by
-learned men, idle and trifling; and although lawyers and
-academicians, courtiers and ladies, and even the Queen and Princes
-of the blood, took the conspicuous parts, there was still a certain
-disrepute attached to the very instruments by means of which the
-stage was brought into what is justly called its “palmiest state.”
-
-Footnote 189:
-
- Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xiv; from Dr. Farmer’s
- “Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare.”
-
-There were perhaps various reasons for the slow success of Massinger
-as a dramatist, and for that adverse fate the bitterness of which
-breaks forth in all his works. The age was Puritan; and he was
-supposed to have exchanged the Protestant principles with which he
-had entered Oxford for Romanist opinions--or rather, what we should
-now term Tractarian. That he may have been, as Mr. Gifford infers,
-from his leaving Oxford without a degree, a Roman Catholic, is borne
-out by no fact, although seemingly attested by the subjects of his
-plays--the “Virgin Martyr,” the “Renegade,” and the “Maid of
-Honour,” and from some passages in his other dramas. The bare
-suspicion was enough to make an author unfashionable at the time
-when the religion of the poet’s ancestors was the object of hatred
-and terror, and the laws against recusants were in all their hateful
-force. The plots of Massinger’s plays were, however, almost
-invariably taken from French or Italian novels, or from old legends,
-which embodied Romanism, and must, if Protestantized, have assumed
-the form of satire. Another drawback to Massinger’s popularity was
-the strong Whiggism which manifested itself in his plays, and which
-was so greatly at variance with the tone of the Court and of the
-higher classes during the early part of the reign of James I. He had
-not the reverence for constituted authority which marked the
-sentiments of Shakspeare, whilst his devotion to birth (not to
-_rank_ alone) savoured of the son of the retainer in a great house,
-where the servant generally is a far greater worshipper of the old
-descent than the real possessor of the ancient pedigree.[190] Thus,
-whilst this ill-fated man, full of genius, full of virtue, and of a
-deep sense of religion, was always tempting the slings and arrows of
-fortune, he was distrusted by the Puritans as a favourer of the
-Romish faith; he was avoided by the loyal as an enemy to passive
-obedience; and he must have been regarded with disgust by the rich
-city merchants and traders, for his contempt for newly-acquired
-wealth, and his merciless exposition of their assumption, in his
-dramas.
-
-Footnote 190:
-
- Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxvii.
-
-Massinger, therefore, lived and died in poverty. The language of
-complaint became habitual to him; he spoke of his despised state
-with agony--yet his patrons were many and honourable; but he
-addressed each successively in dedications which were masterpieces
-of pure English, as his last hope--his dependence on whom “ate into
-his very soul.” To Sir Robert Wiseman, of Thorrell’s Hall, in Essex,
-he “freely, and with a zealous thankfulness, acknowledges that for
-many years he had but _faintly subsisted_, had he not often tasted
-of his great bounty.”[191] In his dedication of “The Picture” to the
-noble Society of the Inner Temple, he thanks them, “his honoured and
-selected friends,” for their “frequent bounties.” He lived upon
-presents; and of the comforts of a certain income he had not,
-probably, even one year’s experience. It is impossible to think of
-such a career without pain--starving one day, repulsed with
-condescension from the halls of the rich, another. He has depicted
-feelingly, indeed, the gentleman reduced to penury, in the “New Way
-to Pay Old Debts,” and the insults heaped on him by over-fed
-sycophants.
-
-Footnote 191:
-
- Massinger’s Works, p. 167; in his Dedication of “The Great Duke of
- Florence” to Sir Robert Wiseman.
-
- “_Overreach_ (to _Wellborn_)--
- Avaunt, thou beggar!
- If ever thou presume to own me more,
- I’ll have thee caged and whipp’d.
- “_Amble_ (to _Wellborn_)--
- Cannot you stay, to be serv’d among your fellows
- From the basket, but you must press into the hall?”
-
-The “basket” contained broken meat, which was placed in the porter’s
-lodge of great houses, to be distributed to the poor.
-
-So, in the “Fatal Dowry,” _Pontalier_ says to _Liladum_:--
-
- “Go to the basket, and repent.”
-
-It is with true feeling that Massinger put into the mouth of
-_Wellborn_ these pleading lines:--
-
- “Scorn me not, good lady!
- But, as in form you are angelical,
- Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe
- At the least awhile to hear me. You will grant
- The blood that runs in this arm is as noble
- As that which fills your veins; those costly jewels
- And those rich clothes you wear, your men’s observance
- And women’s flattery, are in you no virtues;
- Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.”
-
-His life, however, was not without its solace. Happily for the
-literary men of the age, Ralegh had comprehended what is most
-essential both to mind and body, and in founding the meetings at the
-Mermaid had provided for the dramatist, poet, and philosopher,
-suitable relaxation. The place of meeting was at the Mermaid, in
-Bread Street, Cheapside. Here Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, Beaumont,
-Fletcher, and many others, enjoyed the rare companionship of Ralegh,
-during the brief intervals in which he was not either engaged at the
-Court, or in distant expeditions. Here wit was the current coin of
-the company; toil was cast aside; “away with melancholy,” was the
-burden of the guests, who had probably many a care hidden in the
-core of their hearts. To Shakspeare’s joyous nature, and to the
-sanguine and then unbroken spirit of Ralegh, the sorrows of the
-past, the terrors of the future, might easily be forgotten, or
-suspended over a cup of rich Canary; or, as night drew on, after a
-beaker of sack-posset. But one may picture to oneself the diffident,
-yet proud Philip Massinger, in his black doublet and plain white
-linen collar, with shabby tassels hanging from it, feasting,
-perhaps, at another man’s expense--trying to shine in these
-"wit-combats"--trying to forget “the basket,” and to seem
-prosperous; but, with the remembrance of the five pounds borrowed
-upon the security of his capital of brains, with a heavy sigh, as
-the delightful bard of Avon talked of retiring, on his fortune of
-two hundred a-year, to the quaint old town, his birth-place.
-
-It must, however, have been a delicious opportunity of looking into
-minds as various as they were original. Beaumont has described the
-surface:--
-
- “What things have we seen
- Done at the Mermaid!--heard words that have been
- So nimble and so full of subtle flame,
- As if that every one from whence they came
- Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest,
- And had resolved to live a fool the rest
- Of his dull life ...
- ... and when that was gone,
- We left an air behind us, which alone
- Was able to make the two next companies
- (Right witty, though but downright fools) more wise.”
-
-A modern writer has compared these meetings to the “_Noctes
-Ambrosianæ_.” Happier far the wits of modern days, than the gifted
-men who, in the time of the Stuarts, were fain to cringe to patrons
-for their subsistence. None but unsuccessful authors will rail at
-modern publishers, when they remember the infinite miseries, with
-few signal exceptions, of those who were unhappy enough to depend on
-individuals and not on the public, whose will and taste the
-publisher alone studies.
-
-Intemperance was, in those days, not only the sin of the
-middle-classes, but that of the Court; and both James and his Queen
-are said to have indulged in it. Massinger seems to have held what
-were rare opinions in his time, and to have been an advocate for
-total abstinence:--
-
- "O take care of wine!
- Cold water is far better for your healths,
- Of which I am very tender."--_The Picture._
-
-He wrote rapidly, and his pen was never idle; yet he lived in
-miserable poverty. There is no record either that he was married--no
-indication that, like every other poet, he had an unfortunate or
-unrequited attachment. His pilgrimage had one solace, that of a
-fervent religion; which had, probably, much of the superstitions
-which were mingled, in those early days of Protestantism, with the
-reformed faith. The Church of England was then “an untrimmed vessel,
-lurching now towards Rome, and now towards Geneva;” it is therefore
-no wonder if many of the young, the impassioned, the imaginative,
-inclined to that form of faith and of worship which wore at least
-the semblance of venerable seniority.[192]
-
-Footnote 192:
-
- Hartley Coleridge’s “Introduction,” p. xxv.
-
-There is not a line in Massinger’s works that can either convict him
-of Romanism, or stamp him as a Protestant. Like many of his
-contemporaries, his romantic fancy was captivated by the picturesque
-ceremonial, the saintly observances, the _dramatic_ services of the
-Romish Church; and to this was probably added a disgust to that
-puritanic fervour by which not only the drama--to which there were,
-in fact, many just exceptions to be made--but all that was
-enchanting in life, poetry, secular music, revelry (not necessarily
-corrupting), was condemned as sinful, and all intellectual luxury
-prohibited and anathematized.
-
-The Herbert family continued to be friends to Massinger--at all
-events, to lend him the support of their name. He dedicated “The New
-Way to Pay Old Debts,” the most celebrated of his plays, to Robert,
-Earl of Carnarvon. “I was born,” he says, “a most devoted servant to
-the thrice noble family of your incomparable lady, and am most
-ambitious, though at a proper distance, to be known to your
-lordship.” Robert, Earl of Carnarvon, who had married the Lady
-Katherine Herbert, although a friend and favourer of the Muses, and
-also Grand Falconer of England, is long since forgotten--whilst the
-poet, who addressed him “at a proper distance,” is remembered with
-pride and interest.
-
-There was so close an intimacy at one time between the Earl of
-Pembroke’s family and that of the Duke of Buckingham, that it seems
-strange that no trace of Massinger’s having been patronized by him
-are to be discovered. In fact, the annals of Massinger’s life
-present little except the dates of his works. The eldest son of the
-unworthy Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, the poet’s chief
-patron, was married in 1634 to Lady Mary Villiers, then a mere girl.
-It is true that this alliance was formed six years after
-Buckingham’s death; but it was probably concerted before that event,
-after the fashion of the day, in which the infant in the cradle was
-often affianced by ambitious parents, and the nuptials solemnized at
-ten or twelve years of age. Charles, Lord Herbert set out on his
-travels directly after he had married his young wife, and died of
-small-pox at Florence in 1636. Massinger wrote a poem on his loss,
-among others, to his little bride:--
-
- “True sorrow fell
- With showers of tears--still bathe the widowed bed
- Of his dear spouse.”
-
-The elegy, as it has been observed, had better not have been
-written; and his “dear spouse” very likely at that time preferred
-balls and revelries to her husband.
-
-It was, however, not impossible that Villiers, to please the Herbert
-family, may have been the means of introducing Massinger to Charles
-I., who justly estimated his great merits, and proved a more
-generous as well as a worthier patron than the Earl of Pembroke and
-Montgomery.
-
-The political tenets of Massinger brought him on one occasion into
-considerable danger. They were, nevertheless, such as we should now
-term moderate; but they were irrelevantly introduced into his
-dramas, at a time when liberalism was almost regarded as next to
-treason. In 1631, Sir Henry Herbert, the Master of the Revels,
-refused to receive a play of Massinger’s because it contained what
-that functionary called “dangerous matters,” as to the deposing of
-Sebastian, King of Portugal, and “thereby reflected upon Spain.”
-Even the name of that piece is unknown, although the Master of the
-Revels took care that the fee of twenty shillings for reading it
-over was paid to him. In 1638, when the question of the Ship-money
-was dividing the nation from the Court, Massinger, unable to control
-his indignation at the oppressive measures of Charles I., produced
-another play, called “The King and the Subject,” founded on the
-history of Don Pedro the Cruel. It contained, amongst other free and
-bold passages, these lines:--
-
- “Monies? We’ll raise supplies which way we please,
- And force you to subscribe to blanks, in which
- We’ll mulct you as we shall think fit. The Cæsars
- In Rome were wise, acknowledging no laws
- But what their swords did ratify--the wives
- And daughters of the senators bowing to
- Their will as deities----”
-
-It was evident to all who had occasion to peruse the play in
-manuscript, that Don Pedro was intended for the King. It was
-submitted, however, to Charles, who was at Newmarket; he read it,
-and then, in his own hand, marked the objectionable passage, and
-wrote underneath these words, “This is too insolent; note that the
-poet make it the speech of a King, Don Pedro, to his subjects.” This
-is one instance of the kind nature of the often mistaken King, who
-avoided condemning the play to oblivion.[193] That he encouraged
-Massinger--that he perceived, beneath the bitterness of a struggling
-man, a noble independence of character, is evident from Massinger’s
-plays being, in the commencement of that reign, the fashionable
-representations at Court. A bespeak at Court was the most signal
-proof of success, and was all that could be desired by an author;
-and Charles took an opportunity of conferring this benefit on
-Massinger, when the poet’s feelings had been grievously wounded by
-the opposition made to “The Emperor of the East,” on its first
-performance by bespeaking that play.
-
-Footnote 193:
-
- The play was acted, but not printed, and has never been
- discovered.--See Coleridge, from Malone.
-
-Massinger recorded his gratitude for the bespeak in a prologue, in
-which he affirms his chief aim had been to please the King, and the
-fair Henrietta Maria, in this production:--
-
- “What we now present,
- When first conceived in his vote and intent,
- Was sacred to your pleasure; in each part
- With his best of fancy, judgment, language, art,
- Fashioned and formed so as might well, and may,
- Deserve a welcome, and no vulgar way.
- He durst not, sir, at such a solemn feast,
- Lard his grave matter with one scurrilous jest,
- But laboured that no passage might appear
- But what the Queen, without a blush, might hear.”
-
-In 1633, just after the appearance of Prynne’s “Histriomastix,”
-Charles ordered the representation of Massinger’s “Guardian” at
-Whitehall, on Sunday--an unwise act, in the eyes of all; a wrong one
-in those of most persons, who, without undue prejudice, view the
-Sabbath not only as a day of holy rest, but as one in which the
-thoughts and actions should be eminently pure, serene, and devout.
-We cannot but allow that the Puritans had much reason on their side
-in condemning this profanation, which was, one can scarcely doubt,
-instigated by Queen Henrietta, or intended to please her. The plays
-of Massinger were peculiarly unsuited to the Sabbath, from their
-grossness.
-
-It is not easy to say what amount of indelicacy the ladies of that
-period could listen to “without a blush.” Their confusion was,
-indeed, hidden beneath a black velvet mask. Even eighty or ninety
-years afterwards, the incomparable Queen Mary, the consort of
-William III., and her maids of honour, listened, under that
-protection, to the comedies of an age, perhaps, if possible, still
-more licentious in its plays than that in which Massinger wrote. Nor
-was it until the mask was abolished by law that the presence of
-women was recognized as controlling impropriety. In the reign of
-Anne, influenced by the correctness of the Court, as well as by the
-presence of ladies, unexceptionable plays, of loftier tone, by
-Steele and Addison, were placed on the stage. It is to be hoped that
-Queen Henrietta scarcely comprehended what she heard in a language
-of which she knew but little before her arrival in England; or
-perhaps, with the French notions, that a married woman, however
-young, may go everywhere and hear everything, even if only just
-emancipated from a convent or the nursery, she may not have thought
-herself and her attendants degraded by what they heard.
-
-The Queen’s partiality for Massinger was soon known by another
-demonstration on her part. On the site of the old Monastery of
-Blackfriars, which had been signalized by the sitting of the
-Black Parliament, in the reign of Henry VIII., by the trial of
-Katharine of Arragon in its hall, and by the condemnation of
-Wolsey, James Burbage, and his company, known as the Earl of
-Leicester’s players, had erected a theatre. It was within the
-precincts, but not the jurisdiction, of the City; and the Lord
-Mayor, after ejecting Burbage from the City, tried in vain to
-drive them out of Blackfriars. The Puritan inhabitants of the
-precincts were also inimical to the playhouse, and petitioned
-the Lords and Council against its continuance there.[194]
-Nevertheless, Queen Henrietta bespoke “Cleander,” a lost play of
-Massinger’s, and went to see it acted at Blackfriars. She was
-justly censured for this imprudence--not, indeed, for her
-inconsistent patronage of dramas unfit for women to hear or
-read--a sin which that age perceived not--but for a public
-attendance at a theatre, on the stage of which the young
-gallants of the time chose to sit, perched on stools, with
-tobacco pipes in their mouths--or congregated in twopenny
-refreshment-rooms, where ale and tobacco were sold.
-
-Footnote 194:
-
- Cunningham’s “London.”
-
-It does not appear that the patronage of the Court gave permanent
-independence to Massinger. After the production of his last drama,
-“The Fair Anchoress of Pausilippo,” his career was over. He latterly
-lived at the Bankside, a residence probably chosen by him from its
-vicinity to various theatres--to Blackfriars, from its proximity to
-Blackfriars Road; to the Globe Theatre, in which Shakespeare had a
-share; to Paris Garden, to the Rose, to the Hope, and the Swan. The
-Chirk, near the Church of St. Saviour’s, even in the time of Charles
-I., was the seat of all manner of low dissipation--bear-baiting,
-among the rest--and consequently of misery and vice. The district
-was not sanctified even by the holy edifice of St. Saviour’s; that
-noble church, the finest specimen of the early English style in
-London, the crypt of which is one of the un-seen sights of the
-metropolis, having, happily, escaped the restoring hand of some
-reprehensible churchwardens, who have done their best to spoil the
-nave, and to reduce it to the level of their own ideas. To his
-obscure home, near St. Saviour’s, Philip Massinger retired on the
-evening of the 16th of March, 1639-40, to rest, in his usual health.
-He was found dead in the morning in his bed. No friendly hand closed
-his eyes--no kind voice whispered into his ear words of hope and
-peace in Heaven, of which he had known so little on earth: no record
-of the mortal disease which thus struck him down--what would be
-called, in our time, prematurely--has been found. His death was,
-like his life, a blank. The parish register tells us all that can be
-told: “March 16, 1639-40.--Buried Philip Massinger, _a stranger_.”
-He was followed to the grave by actors, and buried in the churchyard
-of St. Saviour’s, then called St. Mary Overie, from an old
-suppressed priory. No stone marked his grave. His funeral was too
-poor for his remains to be interred within the church, where
-Lancelot Andrews and Henry Sacheverell preached, and where their
-bones repose; and where the poet Gower founded a chantry, and
-erected a tomb. Massinger was interred among the poor and the
-humble; perhaps his old companions of the playhouse, in after-days,
-slept, also, near his nameless grave.
-
-His burial cost 2_l._--a sum large enough, in those days, to ensure
-it, in Mr. Gifford’s eyes, a considerable amount of state and
-ceremony; and the word “stranger,” which grates so painfully on the
-feelings of those who reverence genius, is said by that authority to
-be usually affixed to the name of any one not belonging to the
-parish of St. Saviour. Yet, that his contemporaries put no epitaph
-on his tomb, that there was nothing but the sod over the cold clay,
-that no tradition even exists to show where he once lay, seems to
-prove that the Puritans were in the ascendancy on that sad day when
-the “stranger” was conveyed to his last home; and that they were
-meet ancestors of those who have since “restored” the old church,
-and have cleverly concealed the beauties of its interior.
-
-Massinger had great qualities. He was religious, and of rare honesty
-and independence; yet his religion did not purify his thoughts, nor
-tend, consequently, to chasten his productions--and his
-circumstances wore away his real independence, as his dedications
-testify. His conceptions of what was noble, of what was virtuous,
-are beautifully expressed in those plays, which are yet so full of
-coarseness as to be unpresentable; and whilst he never loses any
-opportunity of exalting virtue, he seizes every occasion of
-depraving the taste, if not the mind. In this respect he is far more
-culpable than Shakspeare; the age had deteriorated: James I. was
-coarse, and liked coarseness in others; his Court and his amusements
-all partook of that characteristic, which increased after the old
-chivalric style had declined. The elegance and purity in the works
-of Sir Philip Sidney and Spenser were succeeded by coarseness in
-those of Massinger, Ford, and Ben Jonson. When Massinger ceased to
-write freely--and, in so doing, to indulge every fancy, fair or
-foul--he wrote feebly. Of this “The Roman Actor,” to play which he
-“held to be the most perfect birth of his Minerva,” affords an
-example. It is free from indelicacy, but presents few of Massinger’s
-striking excellencies. The plot is bad; the scene in which the
-character of _Paris_ might have been so powerfully developed, when
-tempted by _Domitian_, is poor. The tortures of the senators on the
-stage, and the appearance of their ghosts afterwards, savours of the
-love which Massinger had for the horrible--with the delineation of
-which he seems to have consoled himself for his forbearance in other
-points. Nevertheless, whilst the secondary characters in “The Roman
-Actor” are poor and indistinct--whilst those of the primary actors
-are striking and truthful--the timid tyranny of _Domitian_, and the
-ambition of _Donitia_, are admirably worked out.
-
-The inordinate taste for revolting incidents on the stage was a
-great feature of the times; the contemporaries of Somerset and his
-wife were habituated to the excitement of fearful mysteries, of
-crimes, and sins half-disclosed, yet awful in the dimness of partial
-discovery. The frequent occurrence of murders, sometimes designedly,
-“but more often in hasty broils,” in that day, presented subjects
-which, to us, seem extravagant, but which were highly acceptable to
-the bravadoes, who, smoking on the stage, brandished their rapiers,
-and were ready to avenge a quarrel at the sword’s point. In nothing
-is the difference of manners so marked between those days and these
-as in the matter of _honour_. In those times, honour was perpetually
-in every man’s mouth--personal courage was prominently brought
-forward; and hence, every play had its braggart or its coward; and,
-as we see in the works of Beaumont and Fletcher,[195] honour had its
-code, its professional counsel, and its practical paid supporters.
-But, with this code, this practice, moral courage had little to do;
-the code of honour drew the main limit of caste, and the burgher and
-the tradesman were beneath it. So important was it, however, to
-observe the new code _aux ongles_, that a manual or grammar of its
-rules was applied to satisfy the captious on nice points. Thus, when
-_Adorio_, in Massinger’s “Maid of Honour,” laments that his honour
-and reputation should suffer from having taken a blow in public from
-_Caldoro_, accompanied with the infamous “mark of coward,” he is
-referred by _Camillo_, to whom he pours forth his vexation, to
-Caranza’s “Grammar” for directions, in much the same manner as a
-lawyer would quote Lord St. Leonards on a point of law--or
-travellers call on Murray as their authority.
-
-Footnote 195:
-
- See “Maid’s Tragedy.”
-
-When _Adorio_ talks of what he “would do” in the matter, _Camillo_
-answers:--
-
- “Never think on’t,
- Till fitter time and place invite you to it.
- I have read Caranza, and find not in his Grammar
- Of quarrels that the injured man be bound
- To seek for reparation at an hour;
- But may, and without loss, till he hath settl’d
- More serious occasions that import him.
- For a day or two defer it.
-
- _Adorio._--You’ll subscribe
- Your hand to this?
-
- _Camillo._--And justify’t with my life.
- Presume upon’t.
-
- _Adorio._--On then; you shall o’errule me.”
-
-Women were not let off so easily; happily for them, more was
-expected from them than from men. Without referring to Caranza,
-their honour consisted not only in chastity, but in constancy to
-vows, and resistance to the temptations of wealth; and these
-attributes were sufficiently rare to make the “Maid of Honour” an
-exceptional character.[196] Massinger, however, assures us that
-English women, even in those days, asserted a superiority in
-intellect and character: it is true, they had no opportunity of
-travelling, and stayed at home; but they learned from their lovers
-and brothers the customs of those foreign countries which it was
-then dangerous to traverse.
-
-Footnote 196:
-
- “The Guardian.” See Massinger’s Works, p. 351.
-
-Most men of rank or fortune, nevertheless, made the “grand tour”
-before marrying; or left their young betrothed mistresses in their
-native counties. In the “Guardian,” _Calipso_ says:--
-
- “Why, sir, do gallants travel?
- Answer that question; but at their return
- With wonder to the hearers to discourse of
- The garb and difference in foreign females--
- As the lusty girl of France, the sober German,
- The plump Dutch frow, the stately dame of Spain.”
-
-It has been asked whether Massinger and Shakspeare ever
-met?--whether, as Hartley Coleridge inquires, they ever “took a cup
-of sack together at the Mitre or the Mermaid;” and whether Massinger
-was ever umpire or bottle-holder in the “wit-combats” described by
-Fuller? But upon this, as well as on many other points, there is no
-light. We know not whom Massinger loved, nor whom he hated; we would
-fain believe, with Coleridge, that his life was not passed without
-some true affection--a link between passion and virtue; we would
-willingly believe that, like Tasso, he loved one above him in
-rank--or one below him--rather than that he had never loved at all.
-But his works repel the surmise. True love is vehement--but it is
-delicate; and it would have elevated his thoughts, and purified his
-expressions. Massinger may have done justice to the intellect and
-companionship of his countrywomen, but he had no reverence for the
-most beautiful part of their nature; and in this, as in other
-respects, is far below Shakspeare.
-
-The obscurity which overshadowed all Massinger’s career has rendered
-any communication, as we have seen, between him and Buckingham,
-doubtful; but it was far otherwise in respect to Ben Jonson--whose
-works are so replete with allusions to the Villiers family, and to
-their attributes, amusements, and bounties, that no biography of
-George Villiers can be complete without a more copious reference to
-the works of this dramatist than can be conveyed in the passing
-notices which have been given of his masques, in the course of the
-preceding narrative.[197] Ben Jonson was ten years older than
-Massinger; and was born in 1574. Whether from his surname, or his
-Christian name, or from his after-life, it is not easy to say, but
-one generally looks upon Ben Jonson as a man of low birth. But such
-was not the fact. His grandfather, a man of some family and fortune,
-was a gentleman in the service of Henry VIII.; his father was in
-holy orders, “a grave minister of the Gospel.”[198]
-
-Footnote 197:
-
- From the State Papers, a new volume of which has lately been
- published, it appears that Jonson was accused of writing certain
- lines on Buckingham’s assassination.--See Appendix.
-
-Footnote 198:
-
- Gifford’s “Life of Ben Jonson,” p. 2; from Anthony Wood.
-
-The family had originally settled at Annandale, in Scotland; but Ben
-Jonson was born in Westminster. He had the misfortune to come into
-the world a month after his father’s death. It was, perhaps, a less
-adverse circumstance that his mother, two years afterwards, married
-again. Her views were not exalted, and she took for her second
-husband--tired, it might seem, of the genteel poverty of the
-cloth--a master-bricklayer. Not even has Fuller, not even has
-Gifford, been able to ascertain in what part of the suburb of
-Westminster “Ben” was born. Fuller, however, consoles us; he could
-not trace the poet in his _cradle_, but he could “fetch him,” as he
-observes, in his “short coats.” About two years old, Ben was
-_discovered_--that is to say, the haunts of his infancy were--“a
-little child in Hartshorn Lane, near Charing Cross.”
-
-This neighbourhood was as poor as that of Westminster Abbey; and the
-parish of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, which then extended to
-Whitehall on the south, to Marylebone on the north, to the Savoy on
-the east, and to Chelsea and Kensington on the west, when first
-rated to the poor in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, contained only two
-hundred persons sufficiently wealthy to pay those rates.[199] It
-afterwards became the greatest cure in England, until several of its
-parishes were separated from the patron saint, St. Martin’s.
-
-Footnote 199:
-
- Cunningham’s London.
-
-Here, however, Ben Jonson was brought up--getting such education as
-he might from a school in the church of St Martin’s. It is stated,
-however, by Gifford, to have been a “private school.” He might
-possibly have been one of the private pupils on a foundation school.
-Some unknown benefactor, however, removed the future poet from St
-Martin’s, and placed him at St. Peter’s College, Westminster, which
-was founded by Queen Elizabeth, in 1660--“a public school for
-grammar, rhetorick,--_poetry_ (which the maiden Queen was too wise
-to despise) and for the Latin and Greek languages.”
-
-This removal was the visible cause of all Ben Jonson’s eminence.
-Camden, the historian, was then one of the masters of that school,
-from whose ranks issued Cowley, George Herbert, Dryden, Churchill,
-Cowper, Southey, and many others less celebrated. Ben Jonson always
-retained an affectionate remembrance of Camden’s instructions:--
-
- “Camden, most reverend head, to whom I owe
- All that in wits I am, and all I know.”
-
-He dedicated his best play, “Every Man in his Humour,” to Master
-Camden, “Clarencieux,” ending his dedication thus:--
-
-“Now, I pray you to accept this; such wherein neither the confession
-of my manners shall make you blush--nor of my studies repent you to
-have been the instructor; and for the profession of any
-thankfulness, I am sure it will, with good men, find either praise
-or excuse, from your true lover, Ben Jonson.”[200]
-
-Footnote 200:
-
- Ben Johnson’s Works, p. i.
-
-From Westminster, Jonson went to Cambridge, probably to St. John’s;
-but even of this important fact no certainty exists, for the
-university register is imperfect, and from 1600 to 1602 there is an
-hiatus. It is merely conjectured, from there being several books
-containing the name of Ben Jonson in the library of St. John’s, that
-he entered that College. Here, however, he only stayed, according to
-Fuller, some weeks; funds were wanting for his support--a
-circumstance which seems to shew that he was not sent up to Trinity
-College on the foundation, as otherwise he would have had an
-exhibition at Westminster. His parents were unable to supply means;
-and the young student, thirsting for distinction, was obliged to
-return and follow his step-father’s calling. Never was there a
-situation so pitiable, and the condition of this aspiring scholar
-was compassionated by other scholars of happier fortunes than
-himself. Camden generously relieved him; Thomas Sutton, who, having
-bought the Charter House from Lord Suffolk, nobly devoted it to an
-hospital and school, “the master-piece of Protestant charity,” as
-Lord Bacon styled it,--also, according to some accounts, consoled,
-and compassionated, and assisted Jonson. It has even been said that
-“Ben” was engaged to attend the eldest son of Sir Walter Ralegh, as
-a tutor; but of this no certainty exists. All that is absolutely
-known is, that he was sick of the trowel and the hod, whilst his
-mind was running on Horace and Virgil; and that to escape what he
-deemed degradation, he enlisted, went off to the Low Countries, and
-served a campaign in that scene of war, which was a sort of school
-to the young English soldier.
-
-His heart went, to a certain extent, along with this new profession.
-“Let not those blush that have, but those that have not, a lawful
-calling,” says Fuller,--and Jonson seems to have thought so
-likewise. He returned, however, at nineteen, poor as ever, with the
-same scholastic tastes; and the master-bricklayer being dead, he
-repaired to his mother’s house.
-
-He next tried the stage. It has been, in all times, the refuge of
-the unthrifty. But Jonson’s appearance was unfavourable to that
-attempt. His very ugliness, one would have thought, might have been
-an advantage. Mr. Gifford repels with fury the imputation on Jonson,
-that his hero was frightful; yet the description he gives himself of
-Ben Jonson is by no means attractive. His complexion, which had been
-clear and smooth in boyhood, was disfigured by a scorbutic humour,
-and ultimately by scars, from what the Germans are pleased to call
-the “Englische Krankheit.” His features are said not to have been
-irregular or unpleasing, but appear in his portraits to be large and
-coarse. One eye looked askance; his forehead was, however, noble;
-his person was broad and corpulent--after forty it became unwieldy;
-and his gait, he himself owned, “ungracious.” In early youth his
-worst points were not, probably, prominent; he had a delightful
-voice and emphasis. “I never,” said the Duchess of Newcastle, "heard
-any man read well but my husband; and I have heard him say, 'he
-never heard any man read well but Ben Jonson, and yet he hath heard
-many in his time.’"[201]
-
-Footnote 201:
-
- Gifford, from the Duchess of Newcastle’s Letters.
-
-Nevertheless, “Ben” was not a good actor. Critics differ as to the
-nature and duration of his theatrical employ. And Gifford, who takes
-every question relative to his hero as a personal matter, is
-indignant at the statement that he was a strolling player, or ambled
-by the side of a waggon, and took _mad Jeronymo’s_ part; but, as
-most companies were then itinerant, and, as even now, first-rate
-actors and actresses make provincial tours, there seems little call
-for the venom and wrath poured out by the indefatigable biographer,
-who points, with satisfaction, to the bulky figure of Jonson, and
-asks how he could possibly act “little _Jeronymo_,” that "inch of
-Spain"?[202]
-
-Footnote 202:
-
- From the First Part of “Jeronymo,” a popular play.
-
-Whatever was his position--whether, as Anthony Wood says, “he did
-recede to a nursery or obscure playhouse, called the _Green
-Curtain_,” in Shoreditch; or whether, as Gifford declares, that
-statement is a mere fable, and that his aims were higher--seemed now
-of little moment, perhaps, to Jonson himself; for his efforts were
-interrupted by a duel. His antagonist is supposed to have been a
-brother-player, who brought to the field a sword ten inches longer
-than poor Ben’s. They fought, and Ben killed the gentleman with the
-long sword, but was himself severely wounded in the arm; he was sent
-to prison, and brought, as he described it, “near to the gallows.”
-
-Poor Ben was now, probably, fain to cry out with _Antonio_ in the
-“Maid of Honour”:--
-
- “But redeem me
- From this captivity, and I’ll vow
- Never to draw a sword, or cut my meat hereafter
- With a knife that has an edge or point; I’ll starve first.”[203]
-
-Footnote 203:
-
- Massinger’s Works, p. 200.
-
-This imprisonment had a signal effect on Jonson’s destiny; he fell
-into melancholy, and was visited in his despondency by a Romanist
-priest, who applied himself to his consolation first, and to his
-conversion afterwards. Jonson had been religiously brought up, and
-it was not from indifference that he renounced the faith of his
-parents and entered the Romish Church. Such conversions were
-frequent in the early days of the Reformation. Jonson was no
-controversialist; wiser men than he fell into the same error, and,
-like such, atoned for it. The great light of our Church, Jeremy
-Taylor, became for some time a Romanist, but returned to the
-Anglican faith; Chillingworth and others wandered also, and also
-returned. The readiest converts are often those of deep and earnest
-feelings, which act on excitable minds, only superficially informed
-on the great doctrines of Scripture.[204] Jonson’s imprisonment was
-aggravated in its misery by a system of espionage which the
-necessities of the times induced. The plots against Elizabeth’s life
-usually originated in the seminaries of the priests. Jonson was
-warned by his gaoler that he was watched.
-
-Footnote 204:
-
- Gifford, p. 7, note.
-
-He was eventually released, but by what agency does not appear.
-
-He quitted prison, and married a young woman of his new persuasion;
-and there appears to have been no great reason to repent his choice.
-His wife was shrewish, but respectable; and the poet’s prosperity
-commenced with his marriage.
-
-From this time until the period when the Court festivities brought
-him into frequent collision with Villiers, Jonson’s productions were
-successive occasions of triumph. Nevertheless, money did not flow
-into his coffers; and he was continually obliged to pledge, as
-Massinger did, the labour of his brain--two sums of four pounds, and
-twenty shillings, being advanced to him by Henslowe, the
-father-in-law of Alleyn, the player, upon the plots of two plays
-being presented and approved. Still poor Jonson had his enemies and
-traducers. The scene of “Every Man in his Humour” was originally
-laid in Thrace; the names were Italian, but wishing still further to
-ensure its success, Jonson changed them, and brought the scenes to
-London. Nevertheless, he was still attacked about his Italian story.
-There seems, then, to have been as great an objection to works of
-imagination based on foreign plots as in the present day. In
-“Volpone,” Jonson carefully avoided introducing any material not
-purely English.
-
-He was still a struggling author, with few friends except players
-and playwrights, and with many enemies, owing to his vehemence of
-temper and imprudence of speech. But of his animosity to Shakspeare,
-and of the poet’s alienation from him, there seems no proof; and
-indeed Shakspeare is reported to have stood godfather to one of his
-children--although the improbable anecdote connected with that act
-is discredited by Gifford.
-
-Jonson’s acquaintance with Shakspeare is stated by Rowe to have
-begun with “a remarkable piece of humanity and good-nature on the
-part of the immortal bard.” Jonson, who was then, as Rowe observes,
-“entirely unknown to the world,” had offered “Every Man in his
-Humour” for representation; it was carelessly looked over, and
-returned in a supercilious manner by the person who had read it,
-with the uncourteous answer “that it would be of no use to the
-company.” Happily, however, Shakspeare chanced to cast his eyes on
-the manuscript, and found in the play something that powerfully
-engaged his attention. Generous, as well as gifted, he recommended
-both Jonson and his drama to the attention of the actors, and to
-that of the public also.[205]
-
-Footnote 205:
-
- Rowe’s “Life of Shakspeare,” p. xxxiii.
-
-The old play, with the Italian names, the scene laid at Florence,
-had been first brought out at the Rose Theatre; and it was,
-apparently, the amended drama, which, from the numerous alterations,
-had become again Jonson’s property, according to the custom of the
-time, that attracted the notice of Shakspeare.[206] Be that as it
-may, “Every Man in his Humour” was acted at Blackfriars in 1598, and
-Shakspeare’s name appears at the head of it as one of the
-performers. This was about sixteen years before the Bard of Avon
-sought for repose on the banks of his beloved river, and in his
-native town.
-
-Footnote 206:
-
- Gifford, p. 2.
-
-Henceforth the literary world was divided by the factions which
-penetrate even into the studies of the lettered; and a sort of
-rivalship was set up, in which, it appears, the partisans of the two
-great dramatists were far more rife than the parties concerned.
-
-The contending critics endeavoured to exalt the one at the expense
-of the other. Pope observes, “It is ever the nature of parties to be
-in extremes; and nothing is so probable as that, because Ben Jonson
-had much the more learning, it was said on the one hand that
-Shakspeare had none at all; and because Shakspeare had much the most
-wit and fancy, it was retorted on the other that Jonson wanted both;
-because Shakspeare borrowed nothing, it was said that Ben Jonson
-borrowed everything; because Jonson did not write extempore, he was
-reproached with being a year about every piece; and because
-Shakspeare wrote with ease and facility, they cry’d he never once
-made a blot.”[207]
-
-Footnote 207:
-
- Pope’s “Essay on Shakespere,” prefixed to the Oxford edition, p.
- xix., 1745.
-
-Yet, without attempting to enter into a controversy long since
-passed away, and doubtful in origin and extent, it is satisfactory
-to find Jonson’s vindication from unworthy motives in his famous
-lines, “To the Memory of my Beloved, the Author, Mr. William
-Shakespere, and what he hath left us:” in which he truly calls him
-the “Soul of the Age.”
-
-Jonson’s “Every Man in his Humour” was honoured, after it had been
-played several times, by the presence of Queen Elizabeth, who was
-one of Jonson’s earliest patrons. Nevertheless, in “Cynthia’s
-Revels,” which was brought out during the following year, the poet
-satirized the formal and affected manners of the Court.
-
-Whitehall was never gay after the execution of Mary Queen of Scots;
-the joyousness of Elizabeth’s nature, which she had inherited from
-her father, was gone.
-
-When mirth went out, pedantry came in. Euphüism was for a time in
-vogue; the Queen, pensive one hour, fretful the next, looked
-passively on the change; but to her courtiers--among whom Jonson now
-began to mix--the satire in “Cynthia’s Revels” was, probably, highly
-acceptable. Among the most reprehensible usages of the day was that
-of bringing up children to perform on the public stage, as well as
-in the Court. In 1609 authority was given to “William Shakespeare,
-Robert Daborne, Nathaniel Field, and Robert Kirkham,” to provide and
-instruct a certain number of children to perform in tragedies,
-comedies, or masques, within the Blackfriars, or in “the realm of
-England.” Shakspeare, who soon withdrew from the superintendence of
-this juvenile company, has referred to them in “Hamlet,” thus
-marking his disapprobation of the system.[208]
-
-“But there is, sir, an aviary of children, little eyases that cry
-out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapp’d for
-it. These are now the fashion, and so besottle the common stages (so
-they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid of
-goose-quills, and scarce dare come thither.”
-
-These children were, in some respects, well cared for. They were
-selected from the young choristers in the Royal Chapel, and, by an
-order, so early as the reign of Edward IV., they were to be sent to
-Oxford or Cambridge, on the King’s foundation, at the age of
-eighteen, should their voices be changed, or the number of
-choristers be over-full. “Many good people,” observes Hartley
-Coleridge,[209] “who are scandalized at the Latin plays of
-Westminster, will be surprised that in the pious days of England, in
-the glorious morning of the Reformation, in ‘great Eliza’s golden
-time,’ under Kings and Queens that were the nursing fathers and
-nursing mothers, the public acting of plays should be, not the
-permitted recreation, but the compulsory employment of children
-devoted to sing the praises of God--of plays too, the best of which
-children may now only read in a ‘family’ edition of some, whose very
-titles a modern father would scruple to pronounce before a woman or
-a child.”
-
-Footnote 208:
-
- Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxiv.
-
-Footnote 209:
-
- Page xxxvi.
-
-These children were first impressed from the cathedrals by Richard
-III.; and even Queen Elizabeth issued a warrant, under the
-sign-manual, “authorizing Thomas Gyles,” the master of the children
-of Paul’s, “to bring up any boys in cathedrals or collegiate
-churches, in order to be instructed for the entertainment of the
-Court.” The children of the Queen’s Chapel must, therefore,
-henceforth form a principal feature in the representations of Ben
-Jonson’s masques, as we picture them to our minds, either in
-Whitehall--consumed by fire long since--or at Althorpe, or at
-Burleigh-on-the-Hill, or in the stately Castle of Belvoir. Under
-those vaulted roofs their young voices warbled the exquisite poetry
-of Jonson to the music of Lawes, or--be it not recorded without
-shame, nevertheless--were obliged to utter words of raillery,
-bitterness, and indelicacy, which were usually, as Heywood in his
-apology for actors confesses, allotted to the unconscious children
-to deliver.
-
-Greatly as Ben Jonson hailed the accession of James I., he had soon
-reason to regret the wise though parsimonious Queen Elizabeth. In
-conjunction with Chapman and Marston, he had written a play called
-"Eastward Hoe." It was well received; but there was a passage in it
-reflecting on the Scotch. The two authors were arrested; Jonson had
-not any share in writing the piece, but, being accessory to its
-production, he honourably and “voluntarily” accompanied his two
-friends to prison, thus surrendering himself to justice. No very
-severe punishment was ever contemplated, but a report prevailed that
-the three delinquents were to have their ears and noses cut. Jonson
-is said to have been released owing to the intercession of Camden
-and Selden; and they are declared to have been present when, after
-his liberation, he gave an entertainment. On that occasion his
-mother “drank to him, and showed him a paper which she designed, if
-the sentence had taken effect, to have been mixed with his drink,
-and it was a strong and hasty poison.” To show “that she was no
-churl,” Jonson, in relating this story, added, “she designed to have
-first drank of it herself.”
-
-He escaped from some other personal attack which, in common with
-Chapman, he made on some individual, with only a second and also
-temporary imprisonment;[210] and from this time was in such constant
-requisition by the Court, that his imprudence went unnoticed. The
-“Masque of Darkness” was composed by the express command of Anne of
-Denmark, who appeared in it as a negress, surrounded with the dark
-beauties of her supposed African Court. The Queen, and the
-“Daughters of Night,” as the noble dames who acted in that pageant
-were called, were placed in a concave shell, seated one above
-another in tiers; from the top of the shell, which represented
-mother-of-pearl, hung a cheveron of light, which cast a bright beam
-on these ladies; the shell was moving up and down upon the sea, and
-in the billows appeared varied forms of sea-monsters, twelve in
-number, each bearing a torch on his back. The Queen was attired in
-azure and silver, with a curious head-dress of feathers, fastened
-with ropes of pearl, which showed well as the loops fell on the
-blackened throats of the masquers, who also wore ropes of pearl on
-their arms and wrists. Inigo Jones is conjectured to have written
-the directions for the costume of this masque.[211] Jonson now
-received periodical sums, not only from the Court, but from public
-bodies and private patrons. A year seldom passed without a Royal
-progress; and we have seen how essential the poet had become to the
-often impromptu revelries in which James I. continually indulged.
-Yet Jonson wrote his plays and masques slowly. The “Fox” took him a
-year to complete. His notion was that “a good poet’s made as well as
-born.”[212] He worked out his own success, and his labours were
-incessant. He had a practice of committing to his commonplace book
-remarkable passages that struck him. Lord Falkland, one of the most
-accomplished of the cavaliers, expressed his astonishment at the
-variety and extreme copiousness of Jonson’s knowledge. If a pedantic
-display of learning be imputed to Jonson, it must be remembered that
-it was, probably, in compliance with the taste of his royal patron,
-James, who delighted in exhibiting his classical proficiency; and
-who, even on his death-bed, as we have seen, answered the learned
-Prelate near him in Latin. It was during the first years of King
-James’s reign that Jonson justified these classic allusions in his
-“Masque and Barriers,” at the nuptials of the Earl of Essex to the
-faithless bride, also married afterwards to Somerset. “Some,” he
-says, “may squeamishly cry out, that all endeavours of learning and
-sharpness in these transitory devises, where it steps beyond their
-little (or let me not wrong them) no brain at all, is superfluous. I
-am contented these fastidious stomachs should leave my full tables,
-and enjoy at home their clean empty trenchers, fitted for such airy
-tastes, where perhaps a few Italian herbs, picked up, and made into
-a sallad, may find sweeter acceptance than all the sound meat of the
-world.”
-
-Footnote 210:
-
- Gifford, p. 23. See note by Mr. Dyce, p. 23.
-
-Footnote 211:
-
- Introduction to Massinger, p. xv.
-
-Footnote 212:
-
- “Lines on Shakespere,” p. 552; Ben Jonson’s Works.
-
-These beautiful masques had the great advantage of being set to
-music by Henry Lawes, the composer who secured immortality to his
-name by the music of “Comus,” composed by him. Lawes was beginning
-his career of fame when Buckingham first entered the Court. The son
-of a vicar choral in Salisbury Cathedral, he rose to be first a
-gentleman of the Chapel Royal, and afterwards Clerk of the Chapel,
-and conductor of the private music of Charles I. Henry Lawes
-sometimes took a part in the masques which he composed; and acted
-the attendant spirit in “Comus.” His “ayres” and dialogues have
-disappointed posterity. Yet he appears to have been almost the
-father of English vocal music; and, as Milton declares--
-
- “Taught our English music how to space
- Word with just note and accent.”
-
-Music, like all the other delights of peace, languished during the
-troublous times of the Rebellion, or flourished only on the
-battle-field. Lawes was obliged to teach singing during that period;
-but he lived to compose the coronation anthem for Charles II., and
-to have a place of interment assigned to him in Westminster Abbey.
-His brother, less happy, though a skilful musician also, and often
-employed in conjunction with Henry Lawes, took up arms for Charles
-I., in whose service he also lived, and to whom he was devoted, and
-fell, fighting for his sovereign, at the siege of Chester.
-
-It was then the custom for certain great families to receive
-musicians, as well as men of letters, in their houses, and to employ
-them in their especial line--sometimes in hymeneal festivities,
-sometimes in composing requiems. Thus the arts and sciences, poetry,
-music, painting, and scenic decoration, were united, during the
-life-time of George Villiers, in a degree never before or since
-known in this country. Massinger, Ben Jonson, Lawes, Inigo Jones,
-were at the service of the rich and noble, and awaited their
-bidding. Shakspeare died just after George Villiers had received the
-first public proof of Royal favour--the honour of knighthood;[213]
-and the era of masques and revels began. Still, “a craving for
-mental enjoyment,”[214] as well as that derived from the senses, was
-diffused.
-
-Footnote 213:
-
- In 1615. Shakspeare died in 1616.
-
-Footnote 214:
-
- Hartley Coleridge’s “Life of Massinger.”
-
-The religious changes and controversies in the preceding reigns had
-improved the intellect of the higher orders in England, by making
-some portion of learning necessary to those either engaged in
-polemical disputes, or who, conscientious, though unassuming, wished
-to form their own opinions. There was an earnestness in the awakened
-minds of that period. “It was a time of much vice, much folly, much
-trouble--but it was an age of much energy.”[215] When, after the
-middle of Elizabeth’s reign, the thirst for controversy abated, the
-desire for cultivation, the love of poetry, and the taste for art
-remained, took another direction, and tended to the improvement and
-enlightenment of social life. The higher classes did much to exalt
-these dawning predilections, until the rebellion came; after that
-fearful convulsion, the diversions of the great were henceforth
-debased in character, and their minds in taste.
-
-Footnote 215:
-
- Gifford’s “Life of Ben Jonson,” p. 59.
-
-Mary Countess of Pembroke was one of the earliest and most admired
-of Ben Jonson’s friends. To her son William, the early adviser of
-the Duke of Buckingham, Ben Jonson dedicated his “Book of Epigrams.”
-It is therefore almost certain that, before Jonson had appeared in
-public, as the composer of masques for the express entertainment of
-the great favourite at Burleigh, he had met Villiers at Wilton, in
-the society of their common friend, Lord Pembroke--“a man,” Lord
-Clarendon writes, “very well-bred, and of excellent parts, and a
-graceful speaker upon any subject, having a good proportion of
-learning, and a ready wit to apply and enlarge upon it.” When we add
-to this that the Earl was no cold, haughty, and pompous host, but
-facetious, affable, generous, magnificent, as disinterested and
-independent with the rich and great as he was unaffected and
-courteous to the humble; when we remember what Wilton even then
-was--the pride of the nation; when we reflect what and who were the
-men who were welcomed to its hospitality--men, as Clarendon
-observes, “of the most pregnant parts and understanding;” when we
-think of Ben Jonson there--probably received as a guest--whilst
-Massinger was still only the son of a retainer; when we picture
-Inigo Jones with his pencil--the sketches which he drew, praised by
-Vandyck; or hear the voices of the two brothers Henry and William
-Lawes, singing to soft airs the verses of Ben Jonson--we must
-believe that George Villiers had in such scenes, before he lost the
-friendship of Pembroke, many delights greater than the wearisome
-partiality of James, or even a communion with the then unformed mind
-of Charles.
-
-A Platonic admiration for Christian, Countess of Devonshire, called
-forth in verses the romantic gallantry of the Earl of Pembroke. One
-cannot help rejoicing that Lawes set to music what Pembroke wrote:--
-
- "Wrong not, dear Empress of my heart,
- The merits of true passion,
- With thinking that he feels no smart
- Who sues for no compassion.
- . . . . . . Silence in love betrays more woe
- Than words, though ne’er so witty.
- The beggar that is dumb, you know,
- May challenge double pity."[216]
-
-Footnote 216:
-
- “Royal and Noble Authors,” vol. ii., p. 268.
-
-From the society of Wilton, Villiers went forth imbued with those
-tastes which never yielded wholly to the grosser diversions in which
-his Royal patron indulged. Whilst he retained the friendship of Lord
-Pembroke, Villiers was, in all probability, learning to estimate the
-conversation and works of Ben Jonson; and henceforth, the efforts of
-the dramatist must, to a certain degree, be associated with the
-influence and protection of the favourite.
-
-London, in spite of the repeated proclamations of King James,
-tending to restrain its extent, and to keep the provincial gentry in
-their homes, was now generally crowded at certain seasons. A number
-of small theatres were erected in various parts of the city, in
-order to supply entertainments to those who would have turned with
-disgust, since a finer taste had been introduced by the Reformation,
-from the old moralities. Shakspeare, happily, formed an engagement
-to produce his pieces at one theatre, but Jonson was obliged to
-carry his productions to various minor houses, until the success of
-his masques enabled him to form a higher estimate of the value of
-his powers. His lighter pieces are marked by grace and sweetness;
-but these characteristics he “laid aside,” says Mr. Gifford,
-“whenever he approached the stage, and put on the censor with the
-sock.”[217] The excellence of the masque in Ben Jonson’s time, the
-great and gifted actors by whom it was performed, the fancy which
-was suffered to expand itself in these pieces, the scenic effect to
-which so vast an expense was devoted, incline us to think, with
-Gifford, “that all our ‘most splendid shows are at best but beggarly
-parodies,’ in comparison with those in which the Cliffords and
-Arundels, the Stanleys, the Russells, the Veres, and the Wroths;
-‘danced in the fairy rings, in the gay and gallant circles of those
-enchanting devices.’”[218]
-
-Footnote 217:
-
- “Life of Ben Jonson,” p. 63.
-
-Footnote 218:
-
- Ibid., p. 67.
-
-After the death of Shakspeare, Jonson received, by patent, a pension
-of a hundred marks a-year from James. It is supposed that the honour
-of the laureateship chiefly or solely belonged to him. Hitherto the
-title seems to have been merely honorary, adopted at pleasure by any
-poet who was appointed to write for the Court. It had been borne by
-Daniel in the time of Elizabeth. It was on this occasion that Jonson
-applied to Selden for information concerning the origin of the title
-of laureate; and that Selden drew up expressly, and introduced into
-the second part of his “Titles of Honours,” a long chapter on the
-custom of giving crowns of laurel to poets; at the conclusion of
-which he says, “Thus have I, by no unseasonable digression,
-performed a promise to you, my beloved Ben Jonson--your curious
-learning and judgment may correct where I have erred;” and adds,
-“where my notes and memory have left me short.” A graceful and
-enviable compliment from such a man.
-
-The triumphs of Jonson’s genius were interrupted by his journey to
-Edinburgh in 1618--a journey which he performed _on foot_. Here he
-was the guest of Drummond, the poet of Hawthornden--under whose roof
-he passed the April of 1619. This journey was regarded as the
-greatest misfortune of Jonson’s life; not only because during his
-stay in Scotland his wife died, but because Drummond, amongst other
-injuries, gave the following character of Ben Jonson to the
-world:--[219]
-
-“For,” he says, “Ben Jonson was a great lover and praiser of
-himself, a contemner and scorner of others, given rather to lose a
-friend than a jest, jealous of every word and action of those about
-him, especially after drink, which is one of the elements in which
-he lived; a dissembler of the parts which reigned in him, a bragger
-of some good that he wanted, thinketh nothing well done but what
-either he himself or some of his friends have said or done. He is
-passionately kind or angry, careless either to gain or keep;
-vindictive, if he be well answered as himself; interprets best
-sayings and deeds often to the worst. He was for any religion, as
-being versed in both.”
-
-Footnote 219:
-
- Gifford’s “Ben Jonson,” p. 37.
-
-The conduct of Drummond, styled by Mr. Gifford, “a cankered
-hypocrite,”[220] has been justified by others; his very hospitality
-to Jonson is termed by the infuriated biographer, “decoying him into
-his house.” Drummond acted, in a very slight degree, in the same
-capacity to Jonson as that which Boswell, a century and a half
-afterwards, undertook in regard to the more fortunate Samuel
-Johnson, who found in _his_ listener an admirer, and not a foe. Both
-these great men had the calamity of having every idle expression set
-down for the curiosity of an after-age; and “old Ben,” as his
-contemporaries called him in their jovial meetings at the Mermaid,
-did not stand the test so well as “Old Samuel.” We cannot, however,
-regard the visit to Scotland as the great misfortune of Ben Jonson’s
-life, as the impassioned Gifford pronounces it.[221]
-
-Footnote 220:
-
- In Laing’s Preface to notes of Ben Jonson’s Conversation.
-
-Footnote 221:
-
- Note by Dyce; Gifford, p. 38.
-
-Jonson, however, returned to London, unconscious of all that after
-his death so agitated the literary world in the eighteenth century
-on his account. He met, as he wrote to Drummond, with a “most
-Catholic welcome from King James,” who was then, like Jonson, a not
-disconsolate widower. The poet was writing a poem for the funeral of
-Queen Anne, who had just died, but was unburied. He was very keenly
-engaged in beginning the “Discovery,” which was to contain a
-description of Scotland; and he signed himself Drummond’s “true
-friend and lover.” He received, in return, two letters full of
-kindness and compliment from Drummond, whom Gifford himself,
-incapable of an act of insincerity, styles thereupon, “hypocrite to
-the last.”
-
-Ben Jonson was now invited by Bishop Corbet to Christ Church,
-Oxford, where he was created Master of Arts. Thence he passed to
-Burleigh-on-the-Hill and to Windsor, to see the performance of his
-"Gypsies Metamorphosed"--and to introduce little compliments in each
-piece, as the _dramatis personnæ_ were varied or augmented by the
-accession of fresh actors and actresses. About this time he wrote
-his poem on the “Ladies of England.” It was lost--a mischance which,
-in the weakness of one’s nature, one is apt to regret more than the
-destruction of a vast body of philological notes, the fruit of
-twenty years’ labour, for which Mr. Gifford calls for especial
-sympathy.
-
-Jonson was now made “Master of the Revells,” and was nearly being
-knighted. He passed his time in going from one country seat to
-another; every Twelfth-day he was ordered to produce, or to repeat a
-masque. Charles I. was now rising to maturity, and, like his
-deceased brother, Henry, he loved the poetry of Jonson, and the
-fancy of Inigo Jones. The match-making propensities of King James
-were as yet undeveloped, and had neither troubled his repose nor
-maddened the nation into a dread of his mistakes. Villiers was
-young, gay, and unmarried; and the world was at peace. Those were
-happy and busy days for Jonson--yet, amid all his labours, he found
-time to collect an excellent library. He was not only a collector,
-but a lender of his books--an unusual combination; a man must be
-generous, indeed, to unite the two characters; nay, he gave them
-also, liberally, to those qualified to value the rare editions which
-he bought. “I am fully warranted in saying,” Mr. Gifford writes,
-“that more valuable books given to individuals by Jonson are yet to
-be met with than by any person of that age. Scores of them have
-fallen under my own observation, and I have heard of abundance of
-others.”[222] This is rare praise. Nevertheless, since brilliant
-success always has its alloy, it was the lot of Jonson to suffer
-from the ingratitude of his coadjutor, Inigo Jones; and the excuse,
-perhaps, of Inigo was, that he was tried and tempted by the temper
-and irony of Jonson. Their quarrel was inconvenient, and must have
-caused some trouble in the representation of those masques and
-revels over which Jonson presided.
-
-Footnote 222:
-
- Life, p. 49.
-
-“Whoever was the aggressor,” says Horace Walpole, “the turbulence
-and brutality of Jonson was sure to place him most in the wrong.”
-This is a hard judgment. Let it be remembered that the circumstances
-of the two men were different. Jonson was poor, diseased, and in
-that miserable plight when a generous temper is continually checked
-by pecuniary difficulties. Inigo Jones had realized a handsome
-fortune, and was then in the full enjoyment of wealth and
-reputation. Unfortunately he was a poet; some of the masques printed
-had their joint names as the composers. Jealousies arose, which
-ought to have soon subsided, had either of these celebrated men
-known how to curb his wrath. In Jonson’s case, his temper was his
-worst enemy; but for this defect he had an excuse which might have
-pleaded for him even with Inigo. In 1625, Jonson composed for King
-James “Pan’s Anniversary,” the last piece that he presented to that
-monarch; towards the end of that year he was attacked with palsy,
-and a threatening of dropsy added to his accumulated trials. Poverty
-and ill-health are pleas for indulgence. For the first evil,
-Jonson’s improvidence, his hospitality, his utter want of prudence
-in his affairs, may justly be blamed. The last was also partially
-his own fault, for his habits were intemperate--and partly
-ascribable to an hereditarily diseased constitution. Nature, which
-had endowed him with that wonderful intellect, that indomitable
-energy, had modified her gift by the infliction of a cruel malady,
-which, being in the blood, was aggravated by the weakness of
-approaching age. The suppers at the Mermaid were now finally
-abandoned; and the club at the Devil Tavern, near Temple Bar, was no
-longer enlivened by his wit. His intellect was affected to some
-extent, but he recovered sufficiently to write the anti-masque of
-“Jophiel” for the Court; after which, none of his productions were
-commanded by the King during the space of three years. In his
-necessities, unable to leave his room, or to move without
-assistance, the poor invalid turned to the theatre as a source of
-revenue, and produced “The New Inn.” It was hissed from the stage;
-and, notwithstanding the dramatist’s plea in his epilogue that he
-was “sick and sad,” he was persecuted with contemptuous verses, and
-pursued with remorseless cruelty by the many enemies that his rough
-manners had excited--among them, Inigo was the most inveterate.
-
-There was, however, one kind heart that pitied him--that of Charles
-I. The monarch was touched by the lines which the hard critics in
-the theatre could hear without compassion:--
-
- “If you expect more than you had to-night,
- The Maker is sick and sad; he sent things fit
- In all the numbers both of verse and wit,
- If they have not miscarried: if they have,
- All that his faint and faltering tongue doth crave
- Is, that you not impute it to his brain--
- That’s yet unhurt, although set round with pain.
- It cannot long hold out: all strength must yield;
- Yet judgment would the last be in the field
- With the true poet.”
-
-Charles sent him a hundred pounds: the poet, in the fulness of
-gratitude, wrote "A petition from poor Ben to the best of monarchs,
-masters, and men"--full of gaiety and good-humour, yet touching,
-even in its sparkling wit. The petition prayed that His Majesty
-would make his father’s “hundred marks a hundred pounds,” alluding
-to the pension granted by King James. The petition was granted, and
-in the patent by which the annuity was confirmed, it was said,
-“especially to encourage Jonson to proceed in those services of his
-wit and penn, which we have enjoined unto him.”
-
-A tierce of Canary accompanied this act of bounty. It was Jonson’s
-favourite wine, and the King, from his private bounty, sent it to
-the sick poet. It was to be a yearly gift, not only to Jonson, but
-to his successors; and the wine--Spanish Canary--was to be taken
-from his Majesty’s cellars at Whitehall, out of the stores of wine
-“remaining therein.” Charles little anticipated that even his love
-of the drama should be made a cause of reproach to him at his trial.
-“Had the King but studied Scripture half as much as he studied Ben
-Jonson or Shakspeare!” was the cry of the Puritans.
-
-Jonson might now have been tolerably happy, had not his former
-coadjutor, Inigo, still borne him enmity for having, during the
-preceding year, placed his own name before that of the royal
-architect. The conduct of Jones in this respect has been placed in
-its true light by a letter from a Mr. Perry to Sir Thomas
-Pickering.[223] In that letter it is stated that Inigo used his
-“predominant power” at Court to injure Jonson, then bed-ridden and
-impoverished, as the poet was. Henceforth, Aurelian Townshend, a
-poet scarcely known, was employed to invent the masques represented
-at Court, in conjunction with Inigo Jones.
-
-Footnote 223:
-
- This was communicated to Gifford by the late Mr. D’Israeli, to
- whom historical literature owes indeed much.
-
-The same year that was marked by the death of Buckingham witnessed
-poor Jonson’s “fatal stroke,” as he termed it, of palsy. He never
-recovered this attack of 1628, and his days were overclouded by
-successive mortifications. Hitherto the city of London had given him
-a pension for his services. At the very time when it was most needed
-by the forlorn dramatist, it was withdrawn, but restored three years
-afterwards. The office for which he received this annuity was that
-of City Chronologer. The plea made for its cessation was that there
-had been “no fruits of his labours in that his place,” which place
-was to commemorate signal events; other sources of emolument were
-also withheld, on the plea that the fruits of that now exhausted
-brain were no longer forthcoming.
-
-But bright instances of compassion and generosity stood forth amid
-all this gloom. Amongst the great patrons of the drama was William
-Cavendish, the first Earl of Newcastle, declared by Cibber to be
-“one of the most finished gentlemen and distinguished patriots of
-his time.” He had been constituted governor to Prince Charles, for
-whom he ever retained the most loyal affection. Of this nobleman it
-was said that he understood horsemanship, music, and poetry; but
-that he was a better horseman than a musician, a better musician
-than a poet. His wife, the eccentric Margaret Lucas, wrote of him
-that “his mind was above his fortune, his generosity above his
-purse, his courage above danger, his justice above bribers, his
-friendship above self-interest, his truth too firm for falsehood,
-his temperance beyond temptation.”
-
-It was by no means prejudicial to the popularity of this fine
-specimen of an English nobleman that “he was fitter to break Pegasus
-for a _manège_ than to mount him on the steps of Parnassus.” He
-wrote a work entitled, “A new Method and Extraordinary Invention to
-Dress Horses and Work them according to Nature, as also to Perfect
-Nature by the Subtlety of Art.” The work, a folio, was succeeded by
-various comedies, several of them written when Lord Newcastle was in
-banishment, and acted, after his return to England, at Blackfriars.
-He wrote, it is said, in the manner of Ben Jonson, to whom he was a
-kind patron. The Earl was a singular compound of military skill and
-ardour with literary tastes; by him Sir William Davenant,
-poet-laureate after Jonson’s death, was made Lieutenant-General of
-the Ordnance.[224]
-
-Footnote 224:
-
- Grainger, Biog. Hist., vol. i., p. 194.
-
-His wife, who at the time Ben Jonson knew her was Countess of
-Newcastle, and afterwards Duchess, is one of the most voluminous of
-writers among the (now) long catalogue of literary ladies in this
-country. She was at once ridiculous and estimable--a combination of
-qualities painful to friends, but never acknowledged by her
-husband, who revered her talents, and tried to defend what was
-incomprehensible to the learned--her philosophy. In private life she
-was reserved, living almost entirely among her books, or in
-contemplation, or writing indefatigably. Even during the night, one
-of the Duke’s secretaries is said to have slept on a truckle bed in
-a closet in her bedroom, in order to be ready to answer any sudden
-bursts of inspiration that might occur; and the summonses to John,
-“to get up and write down her Grace’s suggestions,” were frequent
-and wearisome. Kind, pious, charitable, generous, and really gifted,
-though romantic and visionary, this excellent lady’s peculiarities
-might have furnished Molière with a model for his “Precieuses
-Ridicules;” but, to Ben Jonson, they were lessened by the vast
-amount of amiability that welcomed the poet to her stately abode,
-or, better still, relieved him in his poverty and want.
-
-When the Earl and Countess of Newcastle heard of the poet’s play
-being condemned--when they learned that various copies of
-complimentary verses had been addressed to him by admirers, pitying
-his humiliation--the Earl, worthy of the name of Cavendish (so dear
-to England), sent to request a transcript of them. The reply is very
-touching:--[225]
-
-"MY NOBLEST LORD, and my Patron by Excellence--I have here obeyed
-your commands, and sent you a packet of my own praises, which I
-should not have done if I had any stock of modesty in store; but
-‘obedience is better than sacrifice,’ and you command it. I am now
-like an old bankrupt in wit, that am driven to pay debts on my
-friends’ credit; and, for want of satisfying letters, to subscribe
-bills of exchange.
-
- “Your devoted
- “BEN JONSON.
-
- "4th February, 1632.
-
-“To the Right Hon. the Earl of Newcastle.”
-
-Footnote 225:
-
- Gifford, p. 48.
-
-Also note, same page:--
-
-"MY NOBLEST LORD AND BEST PATRON--I send no borrowing epistle to
-provoke your lordship, for I have neither fortune to repay, nor
-security to engage, that will be taken; but I make a most humble
-petition to your lordship’s bounty to succour my present necessities
-this good time of Easter; and it shall conclude a begging request
-hereafter on behalf of
-
- "Your truest bondsman and
- "Most thankful servant,
- “B. J.”
-
-One of these complimentary poems was written by Lucius Cary, Lord
-Falkland--a patriot, a soldier, and a poet, the very model of that
-refined spirit of chivalry which never recovered itself after the
-Rebellion. There must have been consolation in such a strain, from
-such a man; but poor “old Ben,” as he was now called, was almost
-past consolation. He was engaged on another play, “The Majestic
-Lady.” The world, who had then deemed the old man dead,[226]
-received it as the injudicious effort of a mind enfeebled. Dryden,
-even, who should have forborne from the poor triumph over him whom
-he wrongly considered a “driveller and a show,” called these last
-plays “Ben’s dotages;” but, though feebler than his former dramas,
-they exhibit no traces of _dotage_--that invidious and almost cruel
-expression.[227]
-
-Footnote 226:
-
- Gifford, p. 49.
-
-Footnote 227:
-
- With a gentler feeling, Charles Lamb made numerous extracts from
- “The New Inn,” to show that the mind that produced the “Fox” was
- still there.--Ibid.
-
-Sustained by the Earl of Newcastle, praised by the noble Falkland,
-pensioned by the King, one might have supposed that Jonson’s last
-days would have been peaceful, though no longer cheerful. But he had
-debts; and he was forced--bed-ridden, shaken in body and mind--to
-write on to the very last. His latest effort was an interlude
-welcome of King Charles to Welbeck, on his way to Scotland; for
-which a tribute from Jonson’s muse was commanded by the
-ever-friendly and munificent Newcastle.
-
-The timely gratuity sent to the poet, when the interlude was
-ordered, “fell,” he wrote, “like the dew of Heaven on his
-necessities.” He wrote to his patron in terms of gratitude, warm and
-expressive, and creditable to himself and that benefactor.
-
-He continued at his desk; and a fragment of the “Last Shepherd,” one
-of his last efforts which is preserved, proves that his fancy was
-unclouded. Hitherto it has been painful to trace his decay--to
-record his distress; but now light came to his death-bed, and came
-from on high. Penitence, prayer, conviction of the true faith in our
-Holy Apostolic Church, confession of sins, hope, and rest--these
-were the Heavenly lights that broke over the gloom of his latter
-hours.
-
-Happily--and let the fact he impressively recorded--his parents had
-carefully impressed on his infancy deep religious convictions.
-
-As he lay, neglected by his former associates, and even believed by
-the worldly to be dead--and dead, indeed, was he to them--the
-impressions of his duty to his Maker grew more frequent and stronger
-in his affection.[228]
-
-Footnote 228:
-
- Gifford, p. 48.
-
-To the Bishop of Winchester, who visited him during his long
-illness, he expressed the deepest contrition for having profaned the
-sacred name of his Creator in his plays. His “remorse was poignant;”
-and doubtless this sense of the responsibility which is devolved on
-great talents, which comes to many too late, was the foundation of
-his heartfelt penitence and sorrow. He died on the 5th of April,
-1637--and on the 9th his remains were entombed in Westminster Abbey,
-on the north side, just opposite the escutcheon of Robertus de Ros.
-A common pavement stone was placed over his grave; but Sir John
-Young, of Great Milton, Oxfordshire, passing through the Abbey,
-noticed that the stone was without any inscription to mark where the
-great poet lay. Sir John, or, as Aubrey calls him, “Jack” Young,
-gave one of the workmen eighteen-pence to cut an inscription; and
-the words, “O rare Ben Jonson!” were carved as a temporary
-distinction. Meantime, the admirers of the deceased poet were
-collecting a subscription to defray the expense of a suitable[229]
-monument to “poor Ben;” but the Rebellion breaking out, the project
-was abandoned, and the money returned to the subscribers.
-
-Footnote 229:
-
- Gifford.
-
-No fewer than thirty-four elegies on Ben Jonson were collected by
-Dr. Duppa, the Bishop of Winchester, and published under the title
-of “Jonson’s Verbius;” and amongst the authors were Lord Falkland,
-Ford, Waller, George Donne, Lord Buckhurst, and other illustrious
-names. But perhaps there is no tribute more gratifying to the
-admirers of Ben Jonson than that of Taylor, the water-poet, who had
-met him at Leith. Jonson, be it remembered, had walked to Edinburgh,
-yet he could not see the humble poet without giving him what he
-could ill afford to bestow.
-
-“At Leith,” says Taylor, “I found my long-approved and assured good
-friend, Master Benjamin Jonson, at one Master John Stuart’s house. I
-thank him for his great kindness; for at my taking leave of him, he
-give me a piece of gold, of two-and-twenty shillings value, to drink
-his health in England; and withall willed me to remember his kind
-commendations to all his friends. So, with a friendly farewell, I
-left him as well as I hope never to see him in a worse state; for he
-is among noblemen and gentlemen that know his true worth, and their
-own honours, where with much respective love he is entertained.”
-
-The sum, as Gifford remarks, was not, in those days, an
-inconsiderable one; and there was something graceful and touching in
-the kindness of one placed so high, as Jonson was in literary fame,
-to the humbler poet.
-
-This sketch of Ben Jonson’s life and writings may serve to
-illustrate the manners of those times, and the nature of that
-society in which George Villiers lived. In every revel Buckingham
-was the most distinguished courtier. In every masque, during King
-James’s life, he played a part. He knew the poet at Wilton; there
-can be little doubt that the friends of Villiers were the patrons of
-poor Ben. The panegyrist of the Duke, Lord Clarendon, lived, as he
-has himself declared, “many years on terms of the most friendly
-intercourse with Jonson.” In that conversation, praised by this
-historian “as very good, with men of most note,” Villiers must have
-borne a part; whilst Camden and Selden mingled with poor Ben, with
-the Sackvilles, the Sidneys, the Herberts, and the numerous family
-of Villiers.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
-BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER--THEIR ORIGIN--THEIR JOINT
- PRODUCTIONS--CHARACTER OF BISHOP FLETCHER--ANECDOTES ABOUT THE
- USE OF TOBACCO--FORD, THE DRAMATIST--HOWELL--SIR HENRY
- WOTTON--THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM CONSIDERED.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
-
-Among the young Templars who devoted themselves to the drama during
-the times of George Villiers, was Francis Beaumont. Born in the same
-county as that in which Buckingham’s family were settled, and
-bearing the same name as the Duke’s mother, there is every
-probability of there being some tie of consanguinity between the
-poet and the peer.
-
-Beaumont, like his colleague Fletcher, was one of ancient and
-honourable family; and, as such, entitled to be called to the Bar.
-It might be satisfactory to some of the lovers of literature to find
-that its pursuit, in the days of the Stuart Kings, was most
-frequently the choice of men of high connections, and by them
-considered as equal in position to the calling of the Bar, and far
-superior to that of the Church, or of medicine. The personal tastes
-of James, the passionate love of the drama evinced by Charles, by
-Henrietta Maria, and by Villiers, encouraged aspiring men to a
-display of genius which might have long been hidden in a lawyer’s
-wig, or extinguished for ever beneath the coif. Men were less
-shackled then by conventionalities than in the present day.
-
-The father of Francis Beaumont was one of the judges of the Court of
-Common Pleas during the reign of Elizabeth, and the family seat was
-Grace-Dieu, in Leicestershire. Two gifted sons emerged from this
-ancient Manor-house to the universities--John Beaumont,[230] who
-became a Gentleman Commoner at Broad-gate Hall, Oxford; and Francis,
-who was educated at Cambridge. Both were entered at the Inns of
-Court: Francis at the Inner Temple, the popular resort of Cambridge
-men; John, however, retired to Grace-Dieu, married into the family
-of Fortescue, and devoted his peaceful days to translations of the
-classics, and to religious poems, which even Ben Jonson eulogized.
-Amongst them is the “Crown of Thorns,” a poem in eight books.
-Whether from Buckingham’s influence, or from his own merit, or from
-both conjoined, is not known, but he was knighted by Charles in
-1626. He survived that honour only two years, dying in the same year
-in which Buckingham was killed.
-
-Footnote 230:
-
- For some particulars of Sir John Beaumont, see Appendix.
-
-His brother, Francis Beaumont, born in 1586, had a less peaceful
-career. Endowed with no ordinary abilities, he became acquainted
-with those whose example was not calculated to promote the due
-attention to legal studies. Ben Jonson and John Fletcher were then
-in favour with the public. Jonson in the decline of life, Fletcher
-almost in the dawn of his celebrity.
-
-The Fletchers, like the Beaumonts, were a family of talent; and the
-famous friendship, or partnership, which produced so much, and to
-which we owe some of the most beautiful passages of poetry, linked
-to the most unreadable, was the result of that community of tastes
-and studies which is promoted by the education at an English
-university.
-
-Fletcher, as well as Beaumont, had been at Cambridge; and his
-father, Dr. Richard Fletcher, Bishop of London, having been a
-benefactor to Benet College, that society was chosen for his
-matriculation. He came to London, and meeting, at some one or other
-of the clubs, with Francis Beaumont, they wrote plays in concert.
-Fletcher, who was ten years younger than his partner, had the most
-wit, the greatest luxuriance of fancy, the most extended conception,
-and lavish prodigality of improprieties. Beaumont had the soundest
-judgment, and employed it in cutting down young Fletcher’s daring
-flights of fancy. Both assisted in forming the plots; since Beaumont
-happened to be the elder of the two, his name appears first in the
-literary firm, but it ought, in strict propriety, to be Fletcher and
-Beaumont, instead of Beaumont and Fletcher.
-
-They worked out the plots together; and one night, as they sat in a
-tavern, concocting a play, Fletcher undertook “To kill the King.” He
-was overheard by a waiter, who gave information of their traitorous
-designs; instantly the two young men were apprehended, and all the
-terrors of the law were before them--until they succeeded in
-justifying themselves, when the affair ended in mirth.
-
-Beaumont, meantime, was gaining the confidence even of the
-formidable Ben Jonson, who submitted some of his works to his
-criticism before publication. The young lawyer had that skill in
-forming plots which seems like a natural gift, and which even good
-writers are unable to acquire; and he is said to have concocted some
-of those on which Jonson’s plays are founded.
-
-Meantime, he wrote a little drama called “A Mask of Gray’s Inn
-Gentleman,” and a poem entitled “The Inner Temple.” Jonson, grateful
-for his aid, and admiring his talents, poured forth his delight in
-these lines:--
-
- “How I do love thee, Beaumont, and thy muse,
- That unto me do’st such religion use
- How I do fear myself that am not worth
- The least indulgent thought thy pen drops forth;
- At once thou mak’st me happy, and unmak’st;
- And giving largely to me more than tak’st.
- What fate is mine that so itself bereaves?
- What fate is thine, that so thy friend deceives?
- When, even there when most thou praisest me,
- For writing better I must envy thee.”
-
-But, unhappily, Beaumont’s career was ended before he had attained
-the age of thirty. He was buried in St. Benedict’s within St.
-Peter’s, Westminster. No inscription on his tomb recalls the merits
-so soon closed in death; but Bishop Corbet, the author of the “Grave
-Poem,” and Sir John Beaumont, commemorated them in epitaphs which
-are to be found in their works. Frances Beaumont, the poet’s only
-daughter, survived him many years; but lost some of her father’s
-manuscript poems as she went to Ireland by sea. Beaumont died in
-1615, just at the crisis of Villiers’ early career, when he became
-first the subject of King James’s notice. Notwithstanding his
-premature death, his plays attained an almost unrivalled popularity.
-Dryden tells us that they were the most popular entertainments of
-the time--two of them being acted through the year for one of
-Shakspeare’s or Jonson’s; there being, he adds, a certain gaiety in
-the comedies of Beaumont and Fletcher, and a pathos in their serious
-plays, which accorded with the taste or humour of all men.
-Posterity, however, does not admit of the comparison; but it is
-impossible to say whether, if the lives of these two dramatists had
-been spared, their powers might not have enabled them far to exceed
-even the fanciful and poetical works which they found time to
-accomplish.
-
-Fletcher died of the plague, in 1625, at the age of forty-five, and
-his remains were carried to the church of St. Mary Overie, where
-those of Massinger were deposited--and it has been said that they
-were both interred in the same tomb; but of this there is no
-certainty.
-
-It is, perhaps, the greatest compliment we can pay to the present
-state of society to say that the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher can
-never be listened to by an English audience, as long as Englishwomen
-have one principle of delicacy, or Englishmen any respect for
-virtue, remaining. Those, however, who desire to judge of the
-poetical power of Fletcher will delight in his poem of the “Faithful
-Shepherdess,” which Milton thought worthy of imitation in his mask
-of “Comus.” Little is known of John Fletcher personally; but he
-lived in times when every nerve was touched by stirring events, and
-when many of the old memories which clung to men’s minds were
-dramatic and tragical. His father, when Dean of Peterborough, had
-attended Mary, Queen of Scots, to her execution. The good man,
-looking, perhaps, for that preferment which followed, and forgetting
-the peril, the misery of sudden conversions, had urged the heroic
-Queen to change her religion, even at that solemn hour when the
-heart clings the most closely to the impressions of youth. He
-repeated his arguments; then she begged him three or four times to
-desist. “I was born,” she said, “in this religion--I have lived in
-this religion--and am resolved to die in this religion.”
-
-In spite of his vehement Protestantism, the Bishop had some small
-and great failings; he was an inveterate taker of tobacco, which was
-then not only imported, but reared in Ireland and England. The
-Bishop probably considered tobacco to be, as Burton, in his “Anatomy
-of Melancholy,” describes it, “a vertuous herbe, if it be well
-qualified, opportunely taken, and medecinally used;” but he did not
-follow the advice of that admirable writer in the moderation with
-which the snuff-box and the pipe should be indulged in. The prelate
-fell into an excess in the use of tobacco, to which Camden, in his
-History of England, imputed his death. The narcotic weed was indeed
-one of those luxuries of the age, which was most abused in the time
-of Buckingham. Burton anathematizes it--“as it is commonly used by
-most men, who take it as tinkers do ale; ’tis a plague, a mischiefe,
-a violent purger of goods, lands, healthe, hellish, devilish, damned
-tobacco, the ruin and overthrow of bodye and soule.”[231]
-
-Footnote 231:
-
- Burton’s “Anatomy of Melancholy,” vol i., p. 235.
-
-But no considerations of this nature could either restrain Bishop
-Fletcher, or convince the gallants of the day that they were ruining
-either body or soul in their love of tobacco. It was very generally
-employed in the form of snuff by both sexes in the seventeenth
-century, and was allowed even in the royal presence.[232] “Before
-the meat came smoking to the board,” says Dekker, “our gallant must
-draw out his tobacco-box, and the ladle for the cold snuff into the
-nostril, all which artillery may be of gold or silver, if he can
-reach his several tricks in taking it, as the whiff, the ring, &c.,
-for these are complements that gain gentlemen no mean respect.”[233]
-It was the custom to raise the snuff with a spoon to the nose; the
-snuff or pouncet-box having been long in vogue, charged, before the
-discovery of Ralegh, with cephalic powder, known since the time of
-Herodotus:--
-
- “He was perfumed like a milliner,
- And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held
- A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
- He gave his nose.”[234]
-
-Footnote 232:
-
- Stowe’s “Annals.”
-
-Footnote 233:
-
- Gull’s “Horn-book,” pp. 119, 120.
-
-Footnote 234:
-
- Henry IV.
-
-It was in vain that every power was combined to crush the practice
-of smoking, of the inveteracy of which Bishop Fletcher affords a
-memorable example. Monarchs united to oppose it, and it was even
-condemned on religious grounds; but that plea made no impression on
-Bishop Fletcher. Elizabeth had published an edict against it,
-assigning as a reason that her subjects, by employing the same
-luxuries as barbarians, would become barbarous. James I. published
-his famous counterblast to tobacco, comparing it to the “horrible
-Stygian smoake of the pit that is bottomless;” and imposed on it a
-prohibitory duty of six shillings and eight-pence per pound on its
-importation--an impost which Charles continued, making tobacco a
-royal monopoly, as it still is in France and the Netherlands--the
-duty having been only twopence a pound in the reign of Elizabeth.
-Still smoking prevailed; Ralegh had introduced it after the return
-of Sir Francis Drake from America, and all fashionable men practised
-it. Villiers, more especially, was probably among the most
-inveterate, after his residence in Spain; a pipe, a mug of ale, and
-a nutmeg were the right style at the Mitre and the Mermaid; and
-probably found toleration even in the hall of Burleigh, or at
-New-hall.
-
-It seems hard to challenge the self-indulgence of Bishop Fletcher,
-or to grudge him a luxury which assisted Sir Isaac Newton in his
-contemplative mood, and soothed Hooker when a shrewish wife nearly
-drove him mad with vexation. Nevertheless, smoking, or taking snuff,
-is said to have ended Dr. Fletcher’s days. He had also trials of
-another kind to his health. He was the bishop who offended Elizabeth
-by taking a second wife, and that wife a handsome widow, Lady Baker,
-of Kent. The Queen, thinking that one wife was enough for a bishop,
-forbade him her presence, and ordered Archbishop Whitgift to suspend
-him, and whether from her Majesty’s displeasure, or from the effects
-of tobacco, he died suddenly in his chair; “being well, sick, and
-dead in one quarter of an hour.”
-
-The family of Fletcher were largely imbued with poetic fervour.
-Giles, the bishop’s brother, was a man of great learning; and his
-two sons, John and Phineas, were conspicuous during the reign of
-James I. for their learning and poetry. Phineas, whose name occurs
-in the biography of Villiers, wrote “The Purple Island,” an
-allegorical description of man--a much extended version of
-“Spenser’s Allegory” in his second book. He also composed “Piscatory
-Eclogues and Miscellanies;” and his time was divided between the
-duties of his calling (for he was a clergyman) and the delight of
-composition. His brother Giles was, says Anthony Wood, equally
-“beloved of the muses and the graces.” The Fletchers were, indeed,
-remarkable for their gifts. Benlowes, in his verses to Phineas, thus
-expresses his sense of their family attributes:--
-
- “For ’twere a stain, Nature’s, not thy own;
- For thou art poet born; who know thee know it;
- Thy brother, sire--thy very name’s a poet.”
-
-The fame of Giles Fletcher rests chiefly on his poem called
-“Christ’s Victory,” which is printed with the “Purple Island” by his
-brother Phineas.
-
-Another of the young lawyers whose genius irradiated the drama in
-the time of Villiers--was John Ford, a great genius, and a prudent
-man, as far as we can judge by the close of his career. Like
-Fletcher and Beaumont, Ford was well-born, and had a great advantage
-in being descended, on his mother’s side, from the Chief Justice
-Popham. He came to London and entered at Gray’s Inn, then, as Stowe
-tells us, “a goodly house,” now the very _acmé_ of dismal and
-decaying dinginess. It was illumined by the presence of Lord Bacon,
-as it had recently been by that of Lord Burleigh; and when Ford took
-chambers in the Inn, there were pleasant gardens for the gay young
-students, in which they could walk and ruminate at their leisure;
-whilst Gray’s Inn Lane, furnished with fair buildings and many
-tenements, as Stowe also tells us, opened on the north with a view
-of the fields leading to Highgate and Hampstead; and there, too,
-dwelt Hampden and Pym, the vicinity of whom must have stirred up the
-spirits of the young disputants, whose ardour for liberty was
-excited during the days of the Remonstrance--the time of
-Buckingham’s impeachment--and in those when the first tax for the
-navy was levied.
-
-Ford, however, cared little, it appears, for those stormy questions,
-but much for the drama, and more for the law, to which he was
-brought up, and in the practice of which he was wise enough to
-continue. A young man of a dramatic turn had many temptations, in
-those days, to sacrifice the hopes of a slow advancement for the
-brilliant success of a poet’s career. Ford, however, had a staid
-cousin at Gray’s Inn, at the time when he became a member of the
-Middle Temple, in 1602. This relative, also a John Ford, persuaded
-him “to stick to the law;” and Ford, in after-life, recorded the
-obligation with gratitude.
-
-Ford’s first production was not dramatic. When only seventeen years
-of age, he wrote “Fame’s Memorial,” a tribute to one of the most
-popular, and at the same time one of the most unfortunate, noblemen
-of the day. The fate of the ill-starred Charles Blount, Lord
-Mountjoy--afterwards Earl of Devonshire--impressed the young poet so
-forcibly as to impel him, without any personal knowledge of this
-hero, to write this _In Memoriam_. “The life of Lord Mountjoy,”
-remarks Hartley Coleridge, “is the finest subject of biography
-unoccupied.” He was the generous rival of Essex, with whom,
-nevertheless, he had in early life fought a duel. Blount being “a
-very comely man,” attracted the attention of Queen Elizabeth. He
-distinguished himself at a tilt, and she sent him a chess-queen of
-gold, enamelled, which he tied on his arm with a crimson ribbon.
-Essex, on seeing this, laughed scornfully, and said, “Now I perceive
-every fool must have a favour!” Blount challenged him, and they
-fought at Marylebone, where the Earl was disarmed and wounded.
-Nevertheless, the combatants became firm friends even in early life,
-and, in their later days, generous rivals.
-
-Unhappily, an attachment was formed between the handsome Charles
-Blount and the Lady Penelope, the sister of Essex. She was, however,
-under the guardianship of what was then called the Court of Wards.
-She was, therefore, forced to marry Lord Rich. The result was
-melancholy; and she became henceforth the mistress of the brave, but
-unhappy, Blount, now Lord Mountjoy, and their connection was well
-known. On the death of Rich, the guilty pair were married by Laud,
-then Bishop of London. King James, on that occasion, said to
-Mountjoy, “You have married a fair woman with a foul heart.” Perhaps
-he was too severe in his judgment, yet the gallant Mountjoy felt the
-opprobrium. His worldly prospects were marred by the union; so long
-as the attachment with Lady Penelope had been merely understood, the
-world had received her, and honoured him; but, when they were
-married, the guilty pair were slighted and contemned. “However
-bitter the cup of duty may be, duty commands us to drink it even to
-the dregs.”[235] The sentiment is just, and Mountjoy felt it so. His
-error was redeemed by suffering. He died, it is said, of a broken
-heart, having long pined away under neglect and mortification.[236]
-
-Footnote 235:
-
- Hartley Coleridge.
-
-Footnote 236:
-
- Ibid--Note.
-
-To the Lady Penelope, the survivor of this sad romance, Ford
-addressed his “Fame’s Memorial.” Mountjoy’s great valour in
-Ireland--of which he was the true conqueror--had won him undying
-renown. His domestic life touched the young poet’s feelings; and
-upon it he wrote his tragedy of the “Broken Heart.” _Penthea’s_
-lamentation for her “enforced marriage” recalls, in that exquisite
-play, poor Lady Penelope’s story:--
-
- "_Penthea._--How, Orgilus, by promise I was thine
- The heavens do witness!
- . . . . . How I do love thee
- Yet, Orgilus, and yet, must best appear
- In tendering thy freedom.
- . . . . . Live, live happy--
- Happy in thy next choice.
- And oh! when thou art married, think on me
- With mercy, not contempt! I hope thy wife,
- Hearing my story, will not scorn my fall.
- Now let us part."
-
-For some time Ford merely assisted other dramatists in their
-compositions; it was not until 1628 that he produced “The Lover’s
-Melancholy,” which he dedicated to the “Noble Society of Gray’s
-Inn.” This play was suggested by Burton’s “Anatomy of Melancholy,”
-from which Ford, as well as Sterne, freely borrowed. After
-describing the rapidity, the impelling necessity with which the
-works of Massinger and Jonson were produced, it is agreeable to
-think of an author who was able “to write up to his own ideal.” Ford
-not only disdained all pandering to the public taste, but even
-regarded the emolument arising from his plays as a secondary
-consideration, after he was once fairly established in his
-profession. Nor was it then thought incompatible to unite the
-character of a play-writer with that of a lawyer. The Templars, and
-other learned societies, were the great patrons of the drama. Often
-were the quaint halls of the Temple and of Gray’s Inn formed into
-temporary theatres for some favourite piece; and the talk of the
-young Templar was always of Blackfriars, the Curtain, or the
-Rose--of Will Shakespeare, and Ben Jonson, and Ford.
-
-Ford conceived that his powers lay in the delineation of dark and
-horrible crimes; in the exhibition of a mysterious and hopeless
-melancholy. The moral of his dramas, whatever aspect it may bear in
-our days, was intended to be good; but the grossness of the times
-marred that intention, and his works show how impossible it is to be
-at once moral and indelicate. Even _Penthea_ in the “Broken Heart,”
-exquisitely as her character is drawn, lessens our sympathy by
-expressions which no woman of the present day would utter in the
-presence of a lover, and that lover for ever severed from her by her
-indissoluble bonds with another man.
-
-But Ford wrote in the spirit and language of his time, with a high
-purpose, and a coarse taste. “His genius,” it has been well
-remarked, “is as a telescope, ill-adapted for neighbouring objects,
-but powerful to bring within the sphere of vision what nature has
-wisely placed at an unsociable distance.”[237]
-
-Footnote 237:
-
- Hartley Coleridge.
-
-He chose for the subject of his historical play the story of “Perkin
-Warbeck.” With great skill he made this hero believe in his own
-royalty; and he has left in this play, according to the opinion of
-good judges, the best specimen of an historical tragedy after
-Shakspeare.
-
-Ford resembled Shakspeare in some particulars of his fate. Happier
-in that than his associates, he was able to retire, at an early age,
-to his native Devonshire, where, tradition says, he lived to old
-age. It is stated that he married, and had children; but even of
-this there is no certainty. One thing alone is clearly shown, even
-in Ford’s dim history, that he regarded literature as the
-relaxation, and not the labour of his life; that he steadily pursued
-the profession in which untiring work, honourable conduct, and fair
-talents generally find an ultimate reward; that he was independent
-of patronage; that he could treat those to whom he addressed his
-dedications as men whom he was complimenting, not benefactors whom
-he was suing; and lastly, that he was able to leave the world of law
-and letters before that world’s enjoyments had been exhausted, or
-its disappointments had soured and wearied his spirit.
-
-His last play was the “Lady’s Trial;” but his fame chiefly rests on
-“Perkin Warbeck” and the “Broken Heart.” It is a proof of the great
-esteem entertained for genius by the Earl of Newcastle, “poor Ben’s”
-patron, that he was also friendly to Ford, who dedicated “Perkin
-Warbeck” to that nobleman.
-
-It was not only by necessitous men of obscure extraction that poetry
-was cultivated in those times; on the contrary, some acquaintance
-with the Muses, although not thought essential in those who would
-fain rise to distinction as courtiers, was, at all events, deemed
-ornamental and advantageous. The name of Thomas Carew was
-distinguished in the reign of Charles I., as one of the most
-intellectual of his young courtiers.
-
-He was a man of an ancient Gloucestershire family; a branch of that
-race settled in Devonshire, and his education was that usually
-assigned to youths of good birth and expectations. He was entered at
-Corpus Christi College, in Oxford, and his academical career was
-succeeded, as was customary in those times, by travelling. From the
-grand tour, Carew returned replete with wit, fancy, and with a high
-reputation for accomplishments.
-
-He was, therefore, almost instantly noticed by Charles I., and, it
-is evident, enjoyed the favour of Buckingham, to whom he addressed
-“Lines on the Lord Admiral’s recovery from sickness.” Charles made
-him one of his gentlemen of the Bedchamber, and Sewer in
-ordinary--appointments which brought the poet into an immediate
-contact with the principal characters of the Court; and he became
-the intimate associate of Lord Clarendon, the eulogist of
-Villiers, and the friend of Ben Jonson. As a writer of love
-sonnets, Carew has had few equals; and he may be termed, in that
-respect, the Moore of his age. His charming qualities as a
-companion, and the elegance of his verses, are praised by
-Clarendon; whilst his contemporaries--even those less happy than
-himself--saw in him, whom they declared to be one of a “mob of
-gentlemen,” who aspired to be eminent in polite literature, one
-whose career added lustre to the pursuits of literature. Strange
-to say, Carew was beloved and extolled by his less fortunate
-contemporaries; and even Ben Jonson gave him his meed of praise,
-which Carew returned with sympathy and admiration.
-
-After Jonson’s unlucky play, “The New Inn,” had been hissed off the
-stage, and Jonson had vented his rage in an ode, Carew addressed the
-angry poet in lines full of good sense, wit, and good feeling; and
-yet, he hints, with a sincerity as rare as it is fearless, that his
-powers were somewhat weakened since poor Ben had brought out the
-“Alchemist.”
-
- “And yet ’tis true
- Thy cousin muse from the exalted line,
- Touched by the alchemist, doth since decline
- From that her zenith, and foretells a red
- And blushing evening when she goes to bed;
- Yet such as shall outshine the glimmering light
- With which all stars shall gild the following night.”
-
-Again he adds:--
-
- “Let others glut on the extorted praise
- Of vulgar breath, trust thou to after-days:
- Thy laboured works shall live when Time devours
- The abortive offering of their hasty hours.
- Thou art not of their rank--the quarrel lies
- Within thine own verge; then let this suffice
- The wiser world doth greater thee confess
- Than all men else, than thyself only less.”
-
-Carew, notwithstanding the highly virtuous tone of the Court in
-which he lived, led an irregular life; and lived to mourn, in deep
-repentance, for that more than wasted portion of his existence, in
-which he gave way to the worst parts of his otherwise fine nature.
-When Ben Jonson had ceased to write, Carew was selected as the poet
-most calculated to supply the place of that great genius in
-providing masques for the Court. Only one, however, produced by him,
-remains. It is called “Cœlum Britannicum.”
-
-Inigo Jones was again summoned to be one of the “Inventors,” to
-place the masque on the stage, and Henry Lawes composed the airs,
-and superintended the musical performance; but those to whose
-splendour and genius the perfection of this species of entertainment
-was owing, were no longer there. Villiers was gone; Ben Jonson had
-virtually quitted “the detracting world,” which he had once defied
-from his proud pre-eminence. The country was even then split up into
-factions. Happily for himself, Carew escaped their outbreak. He died
-in 1639, expressing heartfelt religious convictions and penitence.
-
-Amongst the gentlemen writers, as they were styled, was Edmund
-Waller, who, at the time of Buckingham’s death, was a young man of
-twenty-three years of age. The lines addressed by him to Charles I.,
-on the extraordinary composure which the King showed on hearing of
-that event, are well known. Even then Waller had been a member of
-Parliament, and had been elected to sit in that assembly whilst he
-was in his seventeenth year. Waller’s circumstances, his destiny,
-his views of life, his genius, his disposition, were as opposite to
-those of Massinger and Ben Jonson as can possibly be conceived. He
-seemed born a courtier; and every effort he made was to advance
-himself at first in that career, and afterwards as a politician. His
-first appearance as a poet, in his eighteenth year, was to
-congratulate King James on the escape of Prince Charles at St.
-Audera, when returning from Spain; and in this poem his polished
-verses, perfected, he alleged, by the study of Fairfax’s “Tasso,”
-were so turned as to excite the admiration of the literary world, by
-whom he was deemed the model of English versifiers. But, in spite of
-his alleged devotion to Charles, and notwithstanding his continuing
-to sit in Parliament, Waller sheltered himself during the storm that
-ensued, and went to study chemistry under the guidance of his
-kinsman, Bishop Morley--emerging only from his retreat at
-Beaconsfield to mingle in the delightful circle of wits and
-incipient heroes of whom the noble Falkland was the centre.
-
-He married early; having, with a fortune of nearly four thousand
-a-year, espoused a city heiress, who died and left him a widower at
-the age of twenty-five. Then this accomplished man of the world
-looked out for rank, and paid his addresses, poetically at all
-events, to the lovely Dorothy Sidney, the eldest daughter of the
-Earl of Sidney. He apostrophized her as Saccharissa. She was, or he
-made her out to be, a proud and scornful beauty, and he turned to
-his "Amoret"--Lady Sophia Murray; but, though well-born, rich,
-favoured by Charles, and nephew of John Hampden by his mother’s
-side, so that he seemed secure of rising under any faction, Waller’s
-loves did not prosper in the direction to which he at first guided
-them; for he was wise in his generation, and could control his
-fancies by views of interest.
-
-He married, therefore, a second time, “loving, doubtless, wisely and
-not too well;” but neither the name, condition, nor fortune of his
-second wife is mentioned by his biographers.
-
-From this time Edmund Waller’s career was despicable. In his heart a
-Royalist, he absented himself from the House of Commons whenever
-there was a chance of his being of service to the King, or of his
-committing himself. Yet he sent Charles a thousand gold pieces when
-the Royal standard at Nottingham was set up--and concocted, with a
-conspirator named Tomkyns, a plot for delivering the City and the
-Parliament into the hands of the Royalists. Nevertheless, he had
-been seconding “my Uncle Hampden” in the House, in his censure of
-Ship-money. When his plot--still called in history Waller’s plot,
-for he had the chief blame--when this base conspiracy, unworthy of
-any cause, was discovered, Waller confessed everything, and
-criminated everybody. Confounded with fear, he had yet the
-consummate hypocrisy to talk of his “remorse of conscience,” adding
-one to the long list of crimes which that abused word is called to
-sanction or excuse. It is a satisfaction to know that he was nearly
-being hanged--that he was expelled the House--fined ten thousand
-pounds--and then “contemptuously suffered to go into exile.” Never
-was that party more fortunate than in getting rid of such a man.
-
-He took refuge at Rouen, and lived there and in Paris until all his
-wife’s jewels were sold--for on them he lived. He was, however, at
-last allowed to return home, and again he sullied Beaconsfield with
-his presence. He hastened to flatter Cromwell, and even to propose,
-in his smooth and flattering verses, the substitution of a crown of
-gold for bays:--
-
- “His conquering head has no more room for bays,
- Then let it be as the glad nation prays;
- Let the rich ore be melted down,
- And the State fix’d by making him a crown:
- With ermine clad and purple, let him hold
- A royal sceptre made of Spanish gold!”
-
-Cromwell, however, was far too wise to take the bait. The sycophant
-thought it expedient to write an ode on his death--for he was not
-certain that the great man’s power might not be perpetuated by his
-son. The instant, however, that the Restoration placed Charles II.
-on the throne, Waller was ready with his congratulatory ode. He
-dwelt on the guilt of the Rebellion; and, except that the flavour of
-spicy flattery was so poor as to provoke a _bon mot_ from Charles
-II. he might have succeeded. “Poets,” said the witty monarch,
-“succeed better in fiction than in truth.” But with Waller it was
-all fiction.
-
-He was soon a favourite at that easy, merry court; his poetry caused
-his unconquerable duplicity to be forgotten--or, if not forgotten,
-looked on even complacently by courtiers who held all virtue to be
-hypocrisy. He managed to please everybody; though a water-drinker,
-he was the life of Bacchanalian parties. It is owing to Clarendon
-that the renegade was not made Provost of Eton--a post for which he
-had actually the audacity to ask. He thence became the friend and
-ally of George Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, to whose age
-and time, rather than that of the subject of this memoir, one would
-gladly consign the apostate poet.
-
-One of his worst acts was to vote for the impeachment of Lord
-Clarendon; and here one would gladly end the record of the misdeeds
-of an able and accomplished man, distinguished almost as much for
-his eloquence as for his poetic productions. But Waller lived on; he
-was favoured by James II., who seems to have been cajoled by the
-flatteries which his royal brother had detected. Waller again in
-parliament, and now eighty years old, was permitted to speak
-jocularly with the monarch. One day he called Queen Elizabeth, in
-James’s presence, the “greatest woman in the world.” "I wonder,"
-answered his Majesty, “you should think so; but it must be allowed
-she had a wise council.”
-
-"And when, sire," cried Waller, “did you ever hear of a fool
-choosing a wise one?”
-
-When it was known that the veteran courtier was going to marry his
-daughter to Dr. Birch, a clergyman, James sent a French gentleman to
-ask him how he could think of marrying his daughter to a falling
-church.
-
-“The King does me great honour,” was the reply, “to concern himself
-about my affairs; but I have lived long enough to observe that this
-falling church has got a trick of rising again.”
-
-He foresaw the coming crisis, but lived not to have an opportunity
-of writing odes to William III. and his Queen. He now composed
-“Divine Poems,” and began to think, at the age of eighty-three, that
-possibly this world, and the courts of the Charles’s and James’s,
-were not everything that there was to value in life. When he found
-himself sinking, he said, “Take me to Coleshill” (his native place);
-“I should be glad to die, like the stag, where I was roused.”
-
-He was, however, too near death to be removed; and he expired at
-Beaconsfield, in October, 1678, and thus escaped being the witness
-of another revolution.
-
-Such were some of the eminent contemporaries of George Villiers, in
-an age so rich in intellectual force as to constitute it, in that
-respect alone, one of the most remarkable periods of English
-history.
-
-But there were, among the _literati_ of that day, two men whose
-observations were peculiarly directed towards the career of
-Villiers--these were James Howell, the letter-writer, and Sir Henry
-Wotton.
-
-Howell’s well-known name is mixed up repeatedly in the various
-passages of the Duke of Buckingham’s foreign life. Howell was the
-son of a clergyman, at Abernant, in Carmarthenshire; was accordingly
-entered at Jesus College, Oxford, the great emporium of the Jones’s,
-Williams’s, Morgans, and Howells.
-
-He was, like many of his countrymen, “a true cosmopolite,” born,
-says Anthony Wood, neither to “house, land, lease, or office.” He
-had not the misfortune of having a position in life to lose, so he
-went to London, and became, through the interest of Sir Robert
-Mansel, steward to a glass-house in Bond Street, glass being a
-monopoly; whilst his elder brother rose to be Bishop of Bristol.
-
-Glass being by no means in its perfection, the proprietors of the
-work sent James Howell abroad, in order to hire foreign workmen, and
-to buy the best materials for a manufacture which they wished to
-improve; and James Howell joyfully accepted the mission. He
-travelled into France, Holland, Flanders, Spain, and Italy; and,
-setting off in 1619, encountered George Villiers in his French tour,
-came across him in Spain, and heard of him all the good and bad that
-he has detailed in his letters to England.
-
-He gave up his stewardship, and posted again into Spain, in 1623,
-and was in that country when Charles I. and Buckingham were at
-Madrid. Like persons in the pit of a great theatre, Howell, in his
-half-commercial, half-diplomatic capacity, saw a great deal which
-the actors in that brilliant scene overlooked.
-
-His ostensible reason for going to Spain was to reclaim a rich
-English ship which had been seized by the Viceroy of Sardinia; his
-real occupation was that of watching the Royal “wooer,” and his
-scarcely less conspicuous companion, Buckingham. Meantime, Howell
-was made a Fellow of Jesus College; and, in accepting this honour,
-he said he “should reserve his Fellowship, and lay it by as a warm
-garment against rough weather, should any fall on him.” And
-certainly he was destined to experience the changes and chances of
-fortune in no ordinary degree. He returned to London, and was
-appointed secretary to Lord Scrope, who was made Lord-President of
-the North. Howell, therefore, was transplanted to York; and, whilst
-there, was chosen member for Richmond, an honour for which he had
-not canvassed. He sat, therefore, in the parliament which opened in
-1627--a session so important to Buckingham, and so fraught with
-consequences to the country.
-
-Still, the apparently fortunate man was without any fixed
-employment. He had, however, talents which were then rare in this
-country; he spoke seven modern languages--and, without recording his
-own remark, which borders on levity, on that score, it must be
-admitted that few Englishmen either in that age or this can do the
-same. His merits were, in this respect, estimated by Charles I., who
-sent him in the quality of secretary to Robert, Earl of Leicester,
-to Denmark, when it became necessary to condole with the King of
-that State on the death of his consort, Charles’s Danish
-grandmother. Next, Howell was despatched to France, and subsequently
-to Ireland, where the Earl of Strafford appreciated his wonderful
-industry, and welcomed him kindly; he was intrusted by that
-ill-fated nobleman with business, first in Edinburgh and then in
-London; but his hopes of rising were crushed by the ruin of
-Strafford, and by the crash which ensued.
-
-Charles, however, again despatched him to France, and made him, on
-his return, Clerk of the Council.
-
-Poor Howell now believed that he had secured a permanent post, a
-fixed income, and a most agreeable residence, an apartment being
-allotted to him in Whitehall. The greater part of the old Tudor
-palace was then still standing; the noble gates built by Henry VIII.
-remained; the Banqueting-house was partially finished; all but the
-paintings by Vandyck, who was to have adorned the sides of that
-room, now used as a chapel, with paintings of all the history and
-procession of the Order of the Garter, were completed--that
-symmetrical fragment stood then as it now stands. Charles I. could
-as little have anticipated that George of Hanover would have made
-the room he destined for Ben Jonson’s masques into a chapel, with
-the apotheosis of James I. upon the ceiling, as he could have
-foreseen that one day he should be led out from one of the windows
-of the Banqueting-house to Whitehall-gate, where “cords to tie him
-down to the block had been prepared, had he made any resistance to
-that cruel and bloody stroke.”[238]
-
-Footnote 238:
-
- See Cunningham’s “London,” Art. “Whitehall,” from Dugdale’s
- “Troubles in England.”
-
-Equally unconscious of his royal patron’s doom as of his own fate,
-Howell established himself in that palace, the only danger of which
-seemed to be the frequent inundations of the Thames, by which
-Whitehall was often half submerged. But shortly afterwards the King
-left that palace to which he never returned but as a captive; and
-Howell also departed. But, coming back to London on private
-business, he was, in 1643, thrown into prison, his papers were
-seized, and he was committed in close custody to the Fleet.
-
-This ancient prison had been, until that time, a place of durance
-for persons sentenced by the Council Table, then called the Court of
-the Star Chamber--so that Howell had the additional vexation of
-being apprehended by one of the warrants which he would himself have
-issued had the troubles of the Rebellion never commenced;--had
-things remained as they were when Lord Surrey suffered from its
-pestilent atmosphere, and when the importunate Lady Dorset was
-silenced in what was truly called by Surrey, “that noisome place.”
-
-The Star Chamber was, however, it appears, abolished before the time
-when James Howell, descending Whitehall stairs, was rowed up the
-river Fleet, to a gate as portentous in its aspect and associations
-as the Traitor’s-gate at the Tower; and thence conducted to what was
-afterwards called the Common side of the prison.[239] When the
-letter-writer entered its miserable courts, the Fleet had lost the
-dignity of a state prison for minor political offences, and was a
-place for debtors, and divided into two sides, the Master’s side and
-the Common side. In the Common side, to complete the horrors, was a
-strong-room, or vault, which has been described “to be like those in
-which the dead are interred, and wherein the bodies of persons dying
-are usually deposited till the coroner’s inquest has passed them.”
-
-Footnote 239:
-
- See Cunningham, vol. i., p. 311. The Author cannot avoid
- expressing obligations to this excellent work.
-
-Howell, as he entered the Common side, probably thought that he
-might live to be one of the mute inhabitants of that ghastly
-chamber--for he was not only suspected by the Parliament, but in
-debt. Wood, indeed, ascribes his captivity wholly to the curse of
-debt, brought on by his own extravagance; and since Howell, like
-many public men of the day, had no “income but such as he scrambled
-for,” and since it was an age of careless expenditure, Wood is,
-perhaps, in this statement, as he generally is, correct.
-
-The character of the man of desultory life rose under the trial.
-During five years the once free and happy James Howell lay in that
-den of misery--rendered more miserable by all that was going on in
-the world, of which he heard enough in his durance, perhaps too
-much. During that period Charles was beheaded; the gay precincts of
-Whitehall were stained with the blood of one whom Howell had
-reverenced as a royalist, but whose advisers, Buckingham, Laud, and
-Strafford, he had censured, as a man of the world, of sense and
-candour, could not fail to do. Whilst he lay in the place where
-Falkland had been sent for sending a challenge--where Prynne had
-paid the penalty for his “Histriomastix,” Howell’s thoughts no doubt
-reverted to the pleasant days of Charles’s youth, in the fields near
-Madrid, where plumed knights ran a course--or to the arena of the
-bull-fight. He dreamed, perhaps, of the incomparable Infanta, or of
-the stately Philip, and his gallant, flattered, sanguine English
-guests.
-
-But he did better. Howell is not the only writer who has tried to
-bind up the wounds of a broken heart by authorship; or has succeeded
-in dissipating the hours of a long imprisonment by communicating not
-only with the world of letters, which was nearly extinct in general
-literature during the first year of the Protectorate, but with those
-among the free, the sympathetic, and the celebrated who remembered
-the poor debtor in his cell. One of his most notable efforts was his
-own epitaph, beginning--
-
- “Here lies entomb’d a walking thing,
- Whom Fortune with the Fates did fling
- Between these walls.”
-
-He wrote now his “Familiar Letters, Domestic and Foreign,” wisely
-putting no date on the epistles as to place. He composed also
-"Casual Discourses and Interlocutions between Patricius and
-Peregrin, touching the Distractions of the Times"--this work was the
-result of the Battle of Edge Hill--“Parables reflecting on the
-Times;” "England’s Tears for the Present War;" “Vindications of some
-Passages reflecting upon himself in Mr. Prynne’s book called the
-‘Popish Royal Favourite,’” a work which coupled his name with that
-of Buckingham; and his “Epistolæ-Hoelianæ.” These works came out
-year after year. It is said by Wood that most of Howell’s letters
-were written in the Fleet, though some of them purported to have
-been sent from Madrid and other places. The fact is, he wrote for
-subsistence; and his works were popular and productive. His
-statements may, indeed, have been made so long after the events they
-relate occurred, as to render them doubtful; yet it is acknowledged
-that they contain a good view of the actors in those stirring
-times--whilst they are almost the only letters that still preserve
-the memory of the writer among us.
-
-Most of his other writings were political; one of his imaginative
-flights recalls, in the idea that originated it, the title of the
-pleasant brochure, “_Voyage autour de ma chambre_,” in our own
-times. Howell’s composition is styled, “A Nocturnal Progress; or, a
-perambulation of such Countries in Christendom performed in one
-night by strength of imagination.” All the titles of his works are
-striking: “Winter Dream,” "A Trance, or News from Hell, brought
-first to town by Mercurius Acheronticus;"--this was published in
-1649, after the King’s death. He still, Royalist as he was, bore his
-misfortunes cheerfully; yet his loyalty sank at last beneath the
-pressure of starvation, and he yielded to expediency. It was not,
-however, until 1653 that his constancy broke down, and that he
-addressed to Oliver Cromwell his “Sober’s Inspections made into the
-carriage and consult of the late Long Parliament.” One may know the
-views he took from the title; but when he compliments the Lord
-Protector, compares him to Charles Martel, and descends to flattery,
-Howell loses our respect. Neither does he regain it by his “Cordial
-for the Cavaliers,” published in 1660, and answered by the “Caveat
-for the Cavaliers” of Sir Roger L’Estrange.
-
-Payne Fisher, who had been poet-laureate to Cromwell, edited
-“Howell’s Works,” in which he calls the author the “prodigy of the
-age for the variety of his writings.” These were forty in number,
-and in “them all,” says Fisher, “there is something still new,
-either in the matter, method, or fancy, and in an untrodden tract.”
-
-For the change of politics in the famous letter-writer his friends
-were prepared, when, after the King’s death, he wrote with what some
-call prudence, others pusillanimity, these words:--“I will attend
-with patience how England will thrive, now that she is let blood in
-the Basilican vein, and cured, as they say, of the King’s evil.”
-Nevertheless, Howell was made Historiographer-Royal in England by
-Charles II., who was so lenient to his enemies, so ungrateful to his
-friends. The place was even created for him; but death soon caused
-him to vacate it. He ended his chequered life in 1660, and-was
-buried in the Temple Church.
-
-Among the few who remembered George Villiers with gratitude, or
-who endeavoured to rescue his memory from opprobrium, Henry
-Wotton, his biographer, appears in a conspicuous and favourable
-light. Most of the eminent men of the time had been reared, and
-even trained, to public service, during the reign of Elizabeth,
-when strength of purpose, honesty, ability, and learning were
-the grounds of promotion in all the minor, as well as in the
-superior departments of the State. Henry Wotton, born in 1568,
-at Bocton Hall,[240] in Kent, and descended from an ancient
-family, was a thoroughly-educated English gentleman. After some
-years’ instruction at Winchester School, he was entered at New
-College, Oxford. Close to that grand old college was Hart Hall,
-a sort of subsidiary establishment; and Wotton, perhaps from
-being a freshman, had his rooms in Hart Hall Lane. Here his
-chamber-fellow, as he was then called, was Richard Baker, the
-historian, who was entered at the same time, and born the same
-year, and whose predilections for letters resembled those of
-young Henry Wotton. The inestimable advantage of a companionship
-of such a nature cannot be too highly appreciated by those who
-watch the dawning mind of youth, and who desire them to have
-recourse to the only sure preventive of dissipation--employment.
-Baker, well known for his Chronicle, was also a writer on
-theological subjects, and a young man of sincere piety. His
-friend Wotton was then less distinguished for historical studies
-than for his wit and learning. For some reason, not explained,
-he left New College, and established himself in the then
-old-fashioned tenement of Queen’s College, in the High Street,
-where he was soon complimented by being selected to write a play
-for the inmates of that house to perform. He produced a tragedy
-called “Tancredo,” which was declared to manifest, in a very
-striking manner, his abilities for composition, his wit, and
-knowledge. Thus, like the gay Templar, or the student of Gray’s
-Inn, did the young Oxonian delight in the drama--which formed,
-to borrow a French expression, a sort of _debût_ for wits; nor
-did Baker, though serious and plodding, despise the drama; and
-even when, in after life, he had been knighted at Theobald’s by
-King James, and Baker’s reputation stood high, he vindicated the
-stage against Prynne, in a work entitled “Theatrum Redivivum.”
-
-Footnote 240:
-
- Otherwise Bougton Place (or Palace). See Izaak Walton’s “Life of
- Sir H. Wotton.”
-
-Wotton, after proceeding Master of Arts in his twentieth year, left
-Oxford, and passed a year in France; and then going on to Geneva,
-formed there the friendship of Casaubon and of Beza. He remained
-nine years in Germany and Italy, and returned to England an
-accomplished and enlightened, as well as a learned man; being, says
-his biographer, “a dear lover of painting, sculpture, chemistry, and
-architecture.” He was soon appreciated by Robert Devereux, Earl of
-Essex, then high in favour with Elizabeth; and became one of that
-nobleman’s secretaries, and the most devoted of his friends. The
-parallel which he has left the world between Essex and Buckingham,
-and which Lord Clarendon answered, is written with an enthusiasm for
-the character of Wotton’s first patron, which can only have sprung
-from intimate acquaintance, and from that true affection which
-generous, impulsive natures, such as that of Essex, are likely to
-inspire.
-
-With Essex, Wotton remained until his patron was apprehended and
-attainted of treason; then he fled to France, and scarcely had he
-landed there when he heard that the Earl had been beheaded. He took
-refuge from solitude, and perhaps peril, in Florence, where the
-Grand Duke[241] of Tuscany received him cordially. James I. was then
-reigning over Scotland; a plot threatened his life, and the Grand
-Duke having become aware of this, by some intercepted letters, sent
-Wotton, in disguise, to warn James of his danger. Wotton spoke
-Italian perfectly; he, therefore, assumed the name and dress of an
-Italian, and, thus disguised, set off on his hazardous journey.
-Having been so deeply concerned in the affairs of Essex, he did not
-venture to pass into England. He travelled, therefore, into Norway,
-and, by that route, reached Scotland. He found the King at Stirling,
-and was introduced into his presence under the name of Octavio
-Baldi. He soon found an opportunity of disclosing himself to the
-King, and, after remaining three months in Scotland, he returned to
-Florence.
-
-Footnote 241:
-
- Ferdinand I., of the House of Medici, who, in 1589, succeeded his
- brother Francis.
-
-Queen Elizabeth’s death brought him back to England, where his
-favour with the new King was ensured. When James I. saw Sir Edward
-Wotton, he inquired if “he knew not Henry Wotton?”
-
-"I know him well," was the reply, “for he is my brother.”
-
-The King then asked where he was, and ordered him to be sent for.
-When Wotton first saw his Majesty, James took him into his arms, and
-saluted him by the name of Octavio Baldi; then he knighted him, and
-nominated him Ambassador to Venice. But it was not easy, in those
-days, to avoid giving offence. The new Ambassador, passing through
-Augsburg, met there, amongst other learned men, his old friend, one
-Christopher Flecamore, who requested him to write something in his
-Album, a book which even then Germans usually carried about with
-them; Sir Henry, complying, wrote a definition of an Ambassador in
-the Album. The sentence was given in Latin, as being a language
-common to all that erudite company, but the definition was, in
-English, this--“An Ambassador is an honest man sent to _lie_ abroad
-for the good of his country.”
-
-This sentence was imparted, eight years afterwards, to one of King
-James’s literary opponents, a jealous Romanist priest, named
-Scioppius, who printed it in a work directed against the royal
-polemic, and which pretended to show upon what a degraded principle
-a Protestant acted. The book reached King James, who had the
-mortification of hearing that this definition of an ambassador,
-which happened to be then the correct one, whatever may now be the
-case, was exhibited in glass windows at Venice. For some time James
-was displeased, but on receiving Sir Henry’s explanation, he forgave
-him, saying that the delinquent “had commuted sufficiently for a
-greater offence.”
-
-The various embassies in which Sir Henry Wotton was engaged detained
-him abroad until 1623, when he came home finally. A great piece of
-preferment was then vacant; and, by the influence of the Duke of
-Buckingham, it was bestowed on Wotton. This was the post of Provost
-of Eton; but one great obstacle presented itself--Wotton had been
-everything that was useful and important, but he was not in orders;
-nevertheless, anything could be accomplished in those days--he was
-made a deacon, and held the Provostship from 1623 to 1639, when he
-died. The appointment did no discredit to him who procured it, for
-Wotton was an able, honest man, singularly liberal in his religious
-tenets for his time. He ordered that upon his grave, in the Chapel
-of Eton College, there should be a sentence, in Latin, decrying the
-itch for disputation as the real disease of the Church. He was a
-great enemy to disputation. On being asked, “Do you believe that a
-Papist can be saved?” he answered, “_You_ may be saved without
-knowing that; look to yourself.” When he heard some one railing at
-the Romanists with stupid rancour, he said:--“Pray, sir, forbear,
-till you have studied these points better. There is an Italian
-proverb which says, ‘he that understands amiss concludes worse;’
-forbear of thinking that the farther you go from the Church of Rome
-the nearer you are to God.”
-
-Nevertheless, he was, like most lenient judges of the faith of
-others, a staunch adherent to his own. “Where was your religion to
-be found before Luther?” wrote a jocose Priest at Rome, seeing Sir
-Henry in an obscure corner of a church, listening to the beautiful
-service of the Vespers, and enjoying the exquisite music of a faith
-which appeals so much to the senses. “Where yours is not to be
-found--in the written Word of God,” was the answer, scribbled on a
-piece of paper underneath the interrogation.
-
-Another evening Sir Henry sent one of the choir boys to his priestly
-friend with this question:--“Do you believe those many thousands of
-poor Austrians damned who were excommunicated because the Pope and
-the Duke of Venice could not agree about their temporalities?” To
-which inquiry the priest wrote in French underneath--"_Excusez moi,
-Monsieur._"
-
-Such was the man whom Buckingham favoured; and who afterwards repaid
-the obligation by a beautiful, somewhat florid, but authentic
-biographical account of the Duke’s origin, his rise, his dangers,
-his services, and his death. Quaint but expressive language, genuine
-enthusiasm, and personal acquaintance, render this sketch one of the
-most delightful compositions of Sir Henry’s pen. In comparing him,
-in prosperity and in adversity, to Essex, the master whom he loved,
-Wotton pays the Duke of Buckingham what he conceived to be the
-highest compliment. He was commencing a life of Martin Luther, and
-intending to interweave in it a history of the Reformation in
-Germany, when Charles I. prevailed on him to lay it aside, and to
-begin a history of England. That undertaking has something
-unfortunate associated with it. Rapin and Hume never lived to
-complete their works. Mackintosh died after leaving a noble fragment
-to increase our sorrow for his loss. Macaulay has expired before
-half his glorious task has been given to the world. Sir Henry Wotton
-had sketched out some short characters as materials, when his
-intentions and Charles’s commands were frustrated by death. His
-“Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, or a collection of Lives, Letters, and Poems,
-with characters of sundry personages, and other incomparable pieces
-of Language and Art, by the ever-memorable Sir Henry Wotton,”[242]
-is a small octavo volume; yet large enough to create regret that one
-of such rare powers and opportunities had not written, with the
-candour of his nature, a history of the times in which he
-flourished. His “State of Christendom, or a most exact and curious
-discovery of many secret passages and hidden mysteries of the
-times,” supplies in some measure that deficiency.
-
-Footnote 242:
-
- Collected and edited by Izaak Walton, in 1672.
-
-Successful in life, Wotton was, in his death, fortunate in being the
-subject of an elegy from the pen of Cowley, then a young man of
-twenty-one, at Trinity College, Cambridge.[243]
-
-Footnote 243:
-
- Cowley was born in 1618.
-
-If we except the encouragement given by the Duke of Buckingham to
-the masque, and the preference evinced by him for literature as one
-of the essential ingredients of civilized society, the progress of
-letters, it must be avowed, has owed little to his direct
-intervention.
-
-Clarendon, though at the time of the Duke’s death patronized by
-Laud, was then a young lawyer, little more than twenty years of
-age.[244] Being brought into contact with Archbishop Laud, during
-the course of a cause in which he was even then retained by some
-London merchants, Clarendon, at that time Edward Hyde, must not only
-have heard much of Buckingham, but have known him personally; but
-the public career of the future historian did not commence till
-1640. As, however, Hyde then affected the fine gentleman and the man
-of letters rather than the lawyer, he probably, in those characters,
-had opportunities of seeing Buckingham on the same footing as that
-on which he became acquainted with Falkland, Selden, Waller, Carew,
-and others; but he owed nothing, as far as we can trace, to the
-friendship of Villiers.
-
-Footnote 244:
-
- He was born in 1608, and was only seventeen when he began the
- study of the law under his uncle, Sir Nicholas Hyde.
-
-Ralegh and Bacon were above the patronage of the favourite; the one
-was suffered to die in prison, the other was long alienated from his
-early admirer and sometime pupil, the Duke. Nevertheless, there were
-not a few persons, as it has been seen, eminent as writers, who were
-indirectly assisted and protected by Buckingham, and who paid him
-the tribute of their gratitude or admiration. Still the aid he gave
-to art was far more liberal than any that he afforded to letters.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Such is the view taken of the redeeming services performed to
-society by a man who had much in his public career to be forgiven.
-With respect to the acts to which he prompted Charles, to screen
-himself, no defence can be offered: but for the general bearing of
-that King’s conduct towards his Parliament, he must be deemed
-irresponsible, since his death neither changed his Sovereign’s line
-of principle, nor moderated his actions. Buckingham was less a man
-of evil intentions than of expediency; to get out of a difficulty,
-he imperiled the freedom of the people, and the safety of the Crown,
-when he might bravely have courted inquiry, and profited by counsel.
-It was one of his great misfortunes that he never made a true and
-worthy friendship with any man so nearly his equal as to be able
-frankly to advise him against what Clarendon calls the “current, or
-rather the torrent, of his passions.” He was surrounded by needy
-brothers, and influenced by an ambitious, unscrupulous mother. One
-faithful friend would not only have saved him from many perils, but
-might have prompted him to do “as transcendant worthy actions” as
-any man in his sphere. In spite of prosperity, he was of a
-persuadable nature; he was naturally candid, just, and generous; no
-record remains of the temptation of money leading him to do any
-unkind action. “If,” says Lord Clarendon, “he had an immoderate
-ambition, it doth not appear that it was in his nature, or that he
-brought it to the Court, but rather found it there. He needed no
-ambition, who was so seated in the hearts of two such masters.”
-
-No man was more vilified in his private life than Buckingham. Like
-all persons of weak principles and impulsive nature, he was at once
-engaging and disappointing; warm-hearted one instant, selfish the
-next; the idol of his family, whom he befriended unceasingly; the
-object, during his life, of his young wife’s most devoted affection,
-which he often forgot or betrayed. Nevertheless, whilst his moral
-character was sullied by many blemishes, it was free from the
-unblushing profligacy of some of his predecessors, and superior to
-the hypocritical sensuality of his contemporary, Richelieu. Happily
-for the age, the almost blameless early career of Charles enforced
-that virtue should be respected, and that vice, where it existed,
-should remain concealed. Buckingham probably owed to this necessity
-much of what, at all events, may be endowed with the praise of
-decorum.
-
-The popular error of many historians, who depict him as an arrogant
-favourite, a remorseless extortioner, a reckless invader of liberty,
-the minion of his own King, and the instrument of foreign Courts,
-yields before the more intimate view of Buckingham’s character which
-has been unfolded in the collections now laid open to all readers of
-history. That he was impetuous, but kind in nature--careless of
-forms, but courteous in spirit--led widely astray by mad passions,
-yet returning in love and penitence to his home--is now confessed.
-No instances have been found to substantiate against him charges of
-corruption, such as that which was commonly practised in those days;
-he was loaded with presents of land, of money--he spent freely what
-had been thus bestowed--and the affection borne to him by his
-dependents is the best earnest of his many good qualities as a
-master and a patron.
-
-In his liberality to all around him, he is said by Wotton, who
-thoroughly understood the noble nature which he compared to that of
-Essex, to have been “cheerfully magnificent,” whilst he conferred
-his favours with such a grace, that the manner was as gratifying as
-the gift, “and men’s understandings were as much puzzled as their
-wits.”
-
-His disposition was full of tenderness and compassion. The man who
-fell by the assassin’s hand had a horror of capital punishment,
-“Those,” Lord Clarendon observes, “who think the laws dead if they
-are not severely executed, censured him for being too merciful; and
-he believed, doubtless, hanging the worst use a man could be put
-to.” Consistent with this sweetness of character were his affability
-and gentleness to men younger than himself, as well as his ready
-forgiveness of injuries, an “easiness to reconcilement,” which
-caused him even too soon to forget the circumstances of affronts and
-evil deeds, and, therefore, exposed him to a repetition.
-
-Of all the imputations which were fixed on Buckingham, that of a
-desire to enrich himself, from motives of avarice, is the most
-completely refuted by facts. During the four years that he enjoyed
-the unbounded confidence of Charles I. he became every day poorer.
-His affairs were investigated, and the result was proved. It is,
-indeed, a question, and a very serious one,--how far any man is
-justified in spending, even on noble purposes, and certainly not in
-mere show, largely beyond his income, as Buckingham did; but his
-conduct is, at all events, more pardonable than the mere desire to
-collect a great fortune, from sources which he seems to have
-considered should be expended either in doing honour to his
-Sovereign abroad in his embassies--a notion paramount in those days,
-though out of date in ours--or by the encouragement of arts and
-sciences, and the duties of hospitality at home.
-
-When we recapitulate the errors of this celebrated man--his
-omissions, his sins, his want of good faith, his overlooking the
-benefits he might have conferred on his country, until it was almost
-too late for repentance, his sacrifice of his Sovereign’s best
-interests to his own will--we must, at the same time, admit great
-extenuation. No mercy was shown to his faults by the historians of
-his time, nor of the age succeeding; they wrote under a sense of the
-deep injuries from which the Rebellion received its first impulse.
-We must not look for fairness in such a ferment. Even after the tomb
-had long been closed over his remains, it was scarcely safe,
-certainly scarcely prudent, to palliate the faults, or to place the
-virtues of Buckingham in a fair light. We have now, however, the
-satisfactory assurance that Buckingham was conscious of his faults;
-contrite for his misdeeds; and earnest in his resolution to repair
-them, had his life been spared.[245]
-
-Footnote 245:
-
- State Papers, vol. cxiv., No. 17; August 27, 1627. Calendar,
- edited by Mr. Bruce.
-
-Lord Clarendon closes his “Disparity” between the Earl of Essex and
-the Duke of Buckingham in these words:--
-
-“He that shall continue this argument further may haply begin his
-parallel after their deaths, and not unfitly. He may say that they
-were both as mighty in obligations as any subjects; and both their
-memories and families as unrecompensed by such as they had raised.
-He may tell you of the clients that buried the pictures of the one,
-and defaced the arms of the other, lest they might be too long
-suspected for their dependants, and find disadvantage by being
-honest to their memories. He may tell you of some that drew
-strangers to their houses, lest they might find the track of their
-own footsteps, that might upbraid them with their former attendance.
-He may say that both their memories shall have a reverend fervour
-with all posterity, and all nations. He may tell you many more
-particulars, which I dare not do.”
-
-
-
-
- APPENDIX.
-
- APPENDIX.
-
-
-In the Calendar edited by Mr. Bruce (1859), there are the following
-details, amongst other curious particulars, of the state of affairs
-after the Duke of Buckingham’s unfortunate expedition to Rhé:--
-
-"Lionel Sharp to Buckingham, reports his sermon preached (at St
-Margaret’s, Westminster), in which he had alluded to the censure
-thrown upon the Duke for his late failure at Rhé, and had declared
-that he who had ventured all that was dearest in the world for a
-foreign church, would, if he ‘had as many lives as hairs,’ venture
-them all for his own, with other laudatory personal allusions to the
-Duke. Is ready to ‘do the rest’ within two days, ‘if he may have the
-place in Westminster, or on Sunday next.’"--_Vol. cii., Domestic,
-No. 76, April, 1628._
-
-This is a singular letter, not only as showing the alarm which led
-the Duke to have recourse to the Elizabeth plan of “tuning the
-pulpits,” but also as an instance of the almost impious mixture of
-political and worldly affairs with sacred subjects.
-
- SECOND ATTEMPT ON LA ROCHELLE.
-
-_Sir Henry Palmer to Secretary Nicholas, from on board the
-“Garland,” before La Rochelle, under the Earl of Denbigh_:--"In this
-letter Sir Henry states that what was here given out to be feasible
-they find directly impossible. On the approach of the English Fleet,
-the French retreated under their ordnance. The palisadoes across the
-river described. The Council of War determined that they should put
-out to sea, and spend their victual abroad. Lord Denbigh cruising
-between Ushant and Scilly. The writer between Portsmouth and Cape La
-Hogue. No man but looked back upon the poor town but with eyes of
-pity, though not able to help them."--_Vol. ciii., No. 50, May 8,
-1628._
-
-_Letter from the Earl of Denbigh to the same._--"Men have ever been
-the censure of the world who are unsuccessful from public
-employments. Misinformation has been the cause of this misfortune.
-They found Rochelle so blocked up, that in eight days’ stay they
-never heard from them. The palisado is so strengthened with two
-floats of ships, both within and without, moored and fastened
-together from their ports to half-mast high, that, lying in shoal
-water, it is impossible to be forced."--_Vol. ciii., No. 57, dated
-May 9, at sea._
-
-Various letters seem to clear Lord Denbigh of cowardice in turning
-back. See letters from Rowland Woodward to Francis Windebank. "The
-report is, that Lord Denbigh was overruled by Ned Clarke, that would
-not hazard the Fleet. The King was never seen to be so much moved,
-saying, ‘if the ships had been lost, he had timber enough to build
-more.’"--_Vol. civ., No. 47._
-
-In a letter from Sir Henry Hungate to William, Earl of Denbigh, it
-is stated, "the King’s pleasure is that not a single man should go
-ashore."--_Vol. civ., No. 69._
-
- RESPECTING THE “REMONSTRANCE.”
-
-"Message on Wednesday from the King, that he would not yield to any
-alteration in his answer, but would close the Session on the 11th
-inst. The house proceeded with the Remonstrance, until another
-message, which absolutely forbade them to do so. Scene which
-ensued:--Most part of the house _fell a-weeping_. Sir Robert Philips
-could not speak for weeping. Others blamed those that wept, and said
-they had swords to cut the throats of the King’s enemies.
-
-"That afternoon the King and the Lords were in council from two to
-eight on the question whether the Parliament should be dissolved.
-The negative was resolved on. On the following morning the Speaker
-explained away his message, and the house proceeded with the
-Remonstrance. The King agreed thereunto, and came that afternoon,
-gave the customary royal assent, adding other observations which are
-repeated. It is impossible to express with what joy this was heard,
-nor what joy it causes in the city, where they are making bonfires
-at every door, such as was never seen but upon his Majesty’s return
-from Spain."--_Letter from Sir Francis Nethersole to the Queen of
-Bohemia, vol. cvi., No. 55, dated June 5. The Strand._
-
-"Sends a copy of the Remonstrance of the Commons. It was presented
-to the King on Tuesday last. The Duke was present in the
-Banqueting-house at the time, and on his Majesty rising from his
-chair, kneeled down, with a purpose, it was conceived, to have
-besought his Majesty to say something. But the King, saying only
-‘No,’ took him up with his hand, which the Duke kissed, and so his
-Majesty retired. This was all that passed at the time, and all that
-is like to come of the Remonstrance. His Majesty’s favour to the
-Duke is no way diminished, but the ill-will of the people is like to
-be much increased."--_The same to the same, vol. cvii., No. 78, June
-19. The Strand._
-
- DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM.
-
-Some further particulars of this event and its effects are related
-in a letter from Sir Francis Nethersole to James Earl of Carlisle.
-
-“The King took the Duke’s death very heavily, keeping his chamber
-that day, as is well to be believed. But the base multitude in the
-town drink healths to Felton, and these are infinitely more cheerful
-than sad faces of better degrees.”
-
- FELTON.
-
-_Examination of Richard Harward_:--"George Willoughby taught him to
-write. Saw Felton at Willoughby’s within a month; Felton complained
-of the Duke as a cause why he lost a captain’s place, and the
-obstacle why he could not get his pay, being four score and odd
-pounds. Went together to the Windmill, where examinant read the
-Remonstrance to him, and Felton took it and carried it away."--_Vol.
-cxiv., No. 128._
-
-"Sir Robert Savage committed to the Tower for saying that if Felton
-had not killed the Duke he would have done it."--_Vol. cxvi., No.
-95, Sept. 10, 1628._
-
-Report by Dr. Brian Duppa of an interview held by himself and others
-with John Felton in the Tower. (Dr. Duppa was afterwards tutor to
-Charles II.):--
-
-"On stating to him that though he had no mercy on the Duke, the King
-had so much compassion on his soul as to give directions to send
-divines to draw him to a feeling of the horror of his sin, he fell
-on his knees with humble acknowledgment of so great grace to him.
-Throughout he confessed his offence to be a fearful and crying sin;
-attributed it, “upon his soul, to nothing but the Remonstrance.”
-Being asked whether some dangerous propositions, found in his
-handwriting, had not stimulated him, he denied, saying they were
-gathered long ago out a book called the “Soldier’s Epistles.” He
-denied that any creature knew of his resolution but himself, and
-requested that he might do some public penance before his death, in
-sackcloth, with ashes on his head, and ropes about his neck."--_Vol.
-cxvi., No. 101, Sept. 2, 1628._
-
-Felton, it appears, had two letters found in his bag, perhaps
-duplicates. The knife was sewed into his dress. It appears that
-Felton was, at one time, puffed up by the popular applause. The
-state of rabid enmity to the Duke existing in the country, was
-exhibited in inhuman verses on his death, such as these:--
-
- “Make haste, I pray thee; launch out your ships with speed;
- Our noble Duke had never greater need
- Of sudden succour, and these vessels must
- Be his main help, for there’s his only trust.”
-
-Satire upon the Duke, beginning--
-
- “And art thou dead, who whilom thought’st thy state
- To be exempted from the power of Fate?
- Thou that but yesterday, illustrious, bright,
- And like the sun, did’st with thy pregnant light
- Illuminate other orbs?”
-
-One of the poems of the day excited more than ordinary attention. It
-was addressed by the writer to “his confined friend, Mr. John
-Felton!” Suspicion fell on Ben Jonson; and even in the house of his
-friend, Sir Robert Cotton, the belief that he had written the poem
-found credence. Jonson was then paralytic, and his mind may have
-been somewhat embittered, perhaps enfeebled, but he was guiltless of
-this act of ingratitude to his deceased patron, and to his living
-sovereign, King Charles. His examination upon this charge is, as Mr.
-Bruce remarks in his preface, p. 8, ix., a new incident in Jonson’s
-life. The original examination before the Attorney-General is to be
-found in the Calendar before referred to, vol. cxix., No. 33. See
-Preface by Mr. Bruce, p. 9.
-
-"The examination of Benjamin Jonson, of Westminster, gentleman,
-taken this 26th day of October, 1628, by me, Sir Robert Heath, his
-Majesty’s Attorney-General:--
-
-"The said examinant being asked whether he had ever seen
-certain verses beginning thus--‘Enjoy thy bondage,‘ and ending
-thus--‘England’s ransom here doth lie,’ and entitled thus--‘To
-his confined friend,’ &c., and the papers of these verses
-being showed unto him, he answereth that he hath seen the like
-verses to these. And being asked where he saw them, he saith,
-at Sir Robert Cotton’s house, as he often doth, the papers of
-these verses lying there upon the table after dinner. This
-examinant was asked concerning these verses as if himself had
-been the author thereof; thereupon this examinant read them,
-and condemned them, and with deep protestations affirmed that
-they were not made by him, nor did he know who made them, or
-had ever seen or heard them before. And the like protestations
-he now maketh upon his Christianity and hope of salvation. He
-saith he took no copy of them, nor ever had copy of them. He
-saith he hath heard of them since, but ever with detestation.
-He being further asked whether he doth know who made or hath
-heard who made them, he answereth he doth not know, but he
-hath heard by common fame that one Mr. Townley should make
-them, but he confesseth truly that he cannot name any one
-singular person who hath reported it. Being asked of what
-quality that Mr. Townley is, he saith his name is Zouch
-Townley; he is a scholar, and a divine by profession, and a
-preacher, but where he liveth or abideth he knoweth not, but
-he is a student of Christ Church in Oxford.
-
-“Being further asked whether he gave a dagger to the said Mr.
-Townley, and upon what occasion, and when, he answereth, that on a
-Sunday after this examinant had heard the said Mr. Townley preach at
-St. Margaret’s Church in Westminster, Mr. Townley, taking a liking
-to a dagger with a white haft which this examinant ordinarily wore
-at his girdle, and was given to this examinant, this examinant gave
-it to him two nights after, being invited by Mr. Townley to supper,
-but without any circumstance and without any relation to those or
-any other verses; for this examinant is well assured this was so
-done before he saw those verses, or had heard of them; and this
-examinant doth not remember that since he hath seen Mr. Townley.
-
- ”BEN JONSON."
-
-Zouch Townley, to whom the verses were ascribed, was one of the
-Townleys of Cheshire. He escaped a prosecution, with which he was
-threatened in the Star-chamber, by taking refuge at the Hague. He
-was evidently on terms of intimacy with Jonson, to whom he addressed
-commendatory verses, beginning--
-
- “Ben,
- The world is much in debt, and though it may
- Some petty reckonings to small poets pay,
- Pardon if at thy glorious sum they stick,
- Being too large for their arithmetic.”
-
-It is agreeable to find that Ben Jonson stands wholly acquitted of
-the charge of being the writer of the offensive and discreditable
-verses in question.
-
- ----------
-
-The following letter from Edmund Windham to Dr. Plot, author of the
-history of Staffordshire, relative to the ghost story related by
-Clarendon, is taken from the “Biographia Britannica”:--
-
-"SIR--According to your desire and my promise, I have written downe
-what I remember (divers things being slipt out of my memory) of the
-relation made me by Mr. Nicholas Towse, concerning the apparition
-which visited him about 1627.
-
-"I and my wife, upon occasion being in London, lay at my brother’s,
-Pym’s, house, without Bishopsgate, which was next house unto Mr.
-Nicholas Towse’s, who was his kinsman and familiar acquaintance--in
-consideration of whose society and friendship he took a house in
-that place; the said Towse being a very fine musician and very good
-company--for aught I ever saw or heard, a virtuous, religious, and
-well-disposed gentleman. About that time, the said Mr Towse told me
-that, one night being in bed and perfectly waking, and a candle
-burning by him (as he usually had), there came into his chamber, and
-stood by his bed-side, an old gentleman, in such a habit as was in
-use in Queen Elizabeth’s time; at whose first appearance Mr. Towse
-was very much troubled; but after a little while, recollecting
-himself, he demanded of him in the name of God, _What he
-was?--whether he were a man?_ And the Apparition replied, _Noe_.
-Then he asked him _if he were a devil_? And the Apparition answered,
-_Noe_. Then said Mr. Towse, _In the name of God, what art thou
-then_? And, as I remember, Mr. Towse told me that the Apparition
-answered him that _he was the ghost of Sir George Villiers, father
-to the then Duke of Buckingham, whom he might very well remember,
-since he went to schole at such a place in Leicestershire_--naming
-the place, which I have forgotten. And Mr. Towse told me that the
-Apparition had perfectly the resemblance of the said Sir George
-Villiers in all respects, and in the same habit that he had often
-seen him wear in his lifetime. The said Apparition also told him
-that he could not but remember the much kindness that he, the said
-Sir George Villiers, had expressed to him whilst he was a scholar in
-Leicestershire, as aforesaid; and that, out of that consideration,
-he believed that he loved him, and that therefore he made choice of
-him, the said Mr. Towse, to deliver a message to his son, the Duke
-of Buckingham, thereby to prevent such mischief as would otherwise
-befall the said Duke, whereby he would be inevitably ruined. And
-then, as I remember Mr. Towse told me, that the Apparition
-instructed him what message he should deliver to the Duke; unto
-which Mr. Towse replied that he should be very unwilling to go to
-the Duke of Bucks upon such an errand, whereby he should gaine
-nothing but reproach and contempt, and be esteemed a madman, and
-therefore desired to be excused from the employment. But the
-Apparition prest him with much earnestness to undertake it, telling
-him that the circumstances and secret discoveries (which he should
-be able to make to the Duke of such passages in the course of his
-life which were known to none but himselfe) would make it appeare
-that his message was not the fancy of a distempered braine, but a
-reality. And so the Apparition tooke his leave of him for that
-night, telling him that he would give him leave to consider until
-the next night, and then he would come to receive his answer,
-whether he would undertake his message to the Duke of Buckingham or
-noe. Mr. Towse passed the next day with much trouble and perplexity,
-debateing and reasoning with himselfe whether he should deliver this
-message to the Duke of Buckingham or not; but in the conclusion he
-resolved to doe it. And the next night, when the Apparition came, he
-gave his answer accordingly, and then received full instructions.
-
-"After which Mr. Towse went and found out Sir Thomas Bludder and Sir
-Ralph Freeman, by whom he was brought to the Duke of Buckingham, and
-had several private and long audiences of him. I myselfe, by the
-favour of a friend, was once admitted to see him in private
-conference with the Duke, where (although I heard not their
-discourse) I observed much earnestness in their actions and
-gestures. After which conference Mr. Towse told me that the Duke
-would not follow the advice that was given him, which was (as I
-remember) that he intimated the casting off and rejection of some
-men who had great interest in him--and, as I take it, he named
-Bishop Laud; and that he, the Duke, was to do some popular acts in
-the ensueing parliament, of which the Duke would have had Mr. Towse
-to have been a Burgess, but he refused it, alledging that, unless
-the Duke had followed his directions, he must doe him hurt if he
-were of the parliament. Mr. Towse also then told me that the Duke
-confessed that he had told him those things that no creature knew
-but himselfe, and that none but God or the Divell could reveale to
-him. The Duke offered Mr. Towse to have the King knighte him, and to
-have given him preferment (as he told me), but that he refused it,
-saying that, unless he would follow his advice, he should receive
-nothing from him. Mr. Towse, when he made this relation, told me the
-Duke would inevitably be destroyed before such a time (which he then
-named), and accordingly the Duke’s death happened before that time.
-He likewise told me that he had written downe all the discourses he
-had had with the Apparition; and that _at last his comeing to him
-was so familiar, that he was as little troubled with it as if it had
-been a friend or acquaintance that had come to visit him_. Mr. Towse
-told me further, that the Archbishop (then Bishop of London) Dr.
-Laud, should, by his counsels, be the author of a very great trouble
-to the kingdome, by which it should be reduced to that extremity of
-disorder and confusion that it should seem to be past all hope of
-recovery without a miracle; but yet, when all people were in
-despaire of happy days againe, the kingdome should suddenly be
-reduced and resettled again in a most happy condition.
-
-"At this time my father Pym was in trouble, and committed to the
-Gatehouse by the Lords of the Councill, about a quarrel between him
-and the Lord Pawlett, upon which one night I sayd unto my cousin
-Towse, by way of jest, _I pray you ask your Apparition what shall
-become of my father Pym’s business_?--which he promised to doe; and
-the next day told me that my father Pym’s enemies were ashamed of
-their malicious prosecution, and that he would be at liberty within
-a weeke, or some few days, which happened accordingly.
-
-"Mr. Towse’s wife (since his death) told me that her husband and
-she, living in Windsor Castle, where he had an office, that summer
-the Duke of Buckingham was killed, told her the very day that the
-Duke was set upon by the mutinous mariners in Portsmouth, saying the
-... would be his death, which accordingly fell out--and that at the
-very instant the Duke was killed (as upon strict enquiry they found
-afterwards) Mr. Towse, sitting amongst some company, suddenly
-started up and said, _The Duke of Buckingham is slain_. Mr. Towse
-lived not long after; which is as much as I can remember of this
-Apparition, which, according to your desire, is written by,
-
- “Sir, yours, &c.,
- “EDMUND WINDHAM.
-
-“Boulogne, Aug. 5, 1652.”
-
- ----------
-
-The following letter has been adduced as a proof that Villiers owed
-his favour with Charles to an incident in the Monarch’s early
-life--his sole dereliction from propriety, as it is said.
-Buckingham, it is said, was Charles’s confidant, and mediator
-between him and King James:--
-
-"Steenie, I have nothing now to wryte to you, but to give you
-thankes bothe for the good counsell ye gave me, and for the event of
-it. The King gave mee a good sharpe potion, but you took away the
-working of it by the well-relished comfites ye sent after. I have
-met with the partie that must not be named, once alreddie, and the
-cullor of wryting this letter shall make mee meete with her on
-Saturday, although it is written the day being Thursday. So assuring
-you that this business goes safelie on, I rest
-
- “Your constant loving friend,
- “CHARLES."[246]
-
-“I hope ye will not shew the King this letter, but put it in the
-safe custodie of Mister Vulcan.”
-
-Footnote 246:
-
- “Historia et vitae et regni Ricardi II.,” p. 104, by Mr. T.
- Hearne, who tells us the letter is said to have once belonged to
- Archbishop Sancroft, and observes it is the only intrigue he had
- ever heard this Prince was concerned in.
-
- THE END.
-
-
- R. BORN, PRINTER, GLOUCESTER STREET, REGENT’S PARK.
-
-
-
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
- Transcriber’s Note
-
-There are several anomolies in the footnoting. Footnotes were
-numbered from 1 to 99, and then the sequence was repeated, starting
-with ‘1’. There are also a number notes which are denoted only with
-a traditional asterisk, etc. There is no apparent reason for the
-dual system. There is one instance, on p. 130, where a numbered
-footnote (138) is to be found referenced in a note (137) indicated
-with an asterisk. For this text, all footnotes have been
-re-sequenced numerically across the whole volume, to assure
-uniqueness.
-
-At the bottom of p. 25, the letter opening ‘MY DERE LORD’ is
-prefixed by an apparent footnote anchor, for which there is no
-matching note. This has been deemed a stray printer’s mark and
-removed.
-
-On p. 284, the paragraph ending ‘bonds with another man.’ was
-printed with, in the original, a footnote anchor ‘1’, but there is
-no matching footnote. The ‘1’ anchor is repeated on the following
-page, with the expected note. The anomolous anchor has been removed.
-
-Given the frequent quotations, it was inevitable that opening and
-closing quotation marks would sometimes be lost or misplaced. A
-sampling of these problematic passages reveals that the author has a
-tendency to paraphrase and otherwise misquote. They are placed here
-where the context or voice makes their position obvious, or where an
-inspection of the original sources was possible and allowed for the
-proper placement.
-
- 29.18 to himself and all good men.[”] Added.
-
- 29.20 [“]Sir George Goring, writing Removed.
-
- 32.2 than with his victuals.[”] Added.
-
- 45.5 which were by the Duke so freely Added.
- forgiven,[”]
-
- 59.2 [“]and then, when should they be paid?” Added.
-
- 60.17 were now content to forget him.[’]” Added.
-
- 80.13 on any minister of start[.] Added.
-
- 87.15 says Lord Clarend[e/o]n Replaced.
-
- 87.18 for the pardon of his errors;[”] Added.
-
- 87.21 even Lord Clarend[e/o]n observes Replaced.
-
- 92.13 apparently cau[ /s]eless melancholy Restored.
-
- 114.2 looking down into y[^e] hall Added.
-
- 118.25 his end was upon Satterdau morning[.] Added.
-
- 217.15 in which Shak[s/e]speare had a share Replaced.
-
- 238.8 “authorizing Thomas Gyles,[”] Added.
-
- 240.22 to have first drank of it herself[.] Added.
-
- 244.215.1 Jo[u/n]son,” p. 59. Replaced.
-
- 259.20 sent [to ]request a transcript Restored.
-
- 326.21 Letter from Sir Francis Netherso[t/l]e Replaced.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The life and times of George Villiers,
-duke of Buckingham, Volume 3 (of 3), by Katherine Thomson
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The life and times of George Villiers, duke
-of Buckingham, Volume 3 (of 3), by Katherine Thomson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
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-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The life and times of George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, Volume 3 (of 3)
- From original and authentic sources
-
-Author: Katherine Thomson
-
-Release Date: March 6, 2017 [EBook #54288]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE, TIMES OF GEORGE VILLIERS, VOL 3 ***
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-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>Transcriber’s Note:</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>There are both numbered footnotes and notes using the traditional
-asterisk, dagger, etc. The latter have been</p>
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-<p class='c001'>The footnotes have been collected at the end of the text, and are
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-
-<p class='c001'>Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
-see the transcriber’s <a href='#endnote'>note</a> at the end of this text
-for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered
-during its preparation.</p>
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-<p class='c001'>Corrections appear in the text as <ins class='correction' title='original'>corrected</ins>.
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-on the corrected text. Except in the advertising matter at the end
-of the text, the highlighted words also serve as links to explanatory
-notes.</p>
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-
-<p class='c001'>Corrections appear in the text as <ins class='correction' title='original'>corrected</ins>.
-The highlighted words serve as a link to an explanatory note.</p>
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-
-<p class='c001'>The cover image has been created, based on title page information, and
-is added to the public domain.</p>
-<div class='htmlonly'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_I'>I</span>
- <h1 class='c002'>THE LIFE AND TIMES <br /> <span class='small'>OF</span><br /> <span class='xlarge'>GEORGE VILLIERS,</span><br /> DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.</h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c003'>
- <div>FROM ORIGINAL AND AUTHENTIC SOURCES.</div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='large'>BY MRS. THOMSON,</span></div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>“MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF HENRY THE EIGHTH,”</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>“LIFE OF SIR WALTER RALEGH,”</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>“MEMOIRS OF SARAH, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH,”</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>&amp;c., &amp;c.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div>IN THREE VOLUMES.</div>
- <div class='c000'>VOL. III.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>LONDON:</div>
- <div>HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,</div>
- <div>SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN,</div>
- <div>13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.</div>
- <div class='c000'>1860.</div>
- <div class='c000'><span class='small'><em>The right of Translation is reserved.</em></span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div>LONDON:</div>
- <div>PRINTED BY R. BORN, GLOUCESTER STREET,</div>
- <div>REGENT’S PARK.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_iii'>iii</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS OF VOL. III.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='c006' />
-
-<table class='table0' summary=''>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='92%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr><td class='c007' colspan='2'>CHAPTER I.</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'>Death of the Earl of Suffolk--His Address to the Heads of Houses--The Opportunity seized upon by the King to make Buckingham Chancellor--Indignation of the House of Commons--Injudicious Conduct of the King--Vehement Debates--Sir Dudley Digges and Elliot sent to Prison--Buckingham’s Motives for Engaging in a War with France--He endeavours to send away the Queen’s Servants--His Fear of losing his Influence--Arrival of Soubise and Rohan--The Duke goes to Dover--To Portsmouth--Letters from the Duchess--From his Mother--He sets sail for Rochelle--His First Operations Successful--Care taken by him of his Troops--1626-1627</td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c007' colspan='2'>CHAPTER II.</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'>The Delay in Sending Provisions--The Impossibility of reducing the Citadel by Famine--The Duke’s own means were embarked in the Cause--Sir John Burgh--His Death--Letter of Sir Edward Conway to his Father--Buckingham’s Sanguine Nature--Efforts of Sir Edward Nicholas</td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_41'>41</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c007' colspan='2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_iv'>iv</span>CHAPTER III.</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'>Felton--His Character--Uncertainty of his Motives--Circumstances under which he was brought into Contact with Buckingham--Motives of his Crime discussed--The Remonstrance--The Fate of La Rochelle--Buckingham’s Unpopularity--Returns to Rhé--Misgivings of his Friends--Interview with Laud--with Charles I.--His Farewell--He enters Portsmouth--Felton--The Assassination--Original Letters from Sir D. Carlton and Sir Charles Morgan--The King’s Grief</td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_89'>89</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c007' colspan='2'>CHAPTER IV.</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'>Character of the Duke of Buckingham--His Patronage of Art--His Collection--The Spanish Court Described--Collection by Charles I.--Fate of these Pictures</td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_137'>137</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c007' colspan='2'>CHAPTER V.</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'>Patronage of the Drama by Charles and the Duke of Buckingham--Massinger--Ben Jonson--Their Connection with the Court, and with the Duke</td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_183'>183</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c007' colspan='2'>CHAPTER VI.</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'>Beaumont and Fletcher--Their Origin--Their Joint Productions--Character of Bishop Fletcher--Anecdotes about the Use of Tobacco--Ford, the Dramatist--Howell--Sir Henry Wotton--The Character of the Duke of Buckingham Considered</td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_267'>267</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c008'><span class='sc'>Appendix</span></td>
- <td class='c009'><a href='#Page_321'>321</a></td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c010'>DEATH OF THE EARL OF SUFFOLK--HIS ADDRESS TO THE
-HEADS OF HOUSES--THE OPPORTUNITY SEIZED UPON
-BY THE KING TO MAKE BUCKINGHAM CHANCELLOR--INDIGNATION
-OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS--INJUDICIOUS
-CONDUCT OF THE KING, VEHEMENT DEBATES--SIR
-DUDLEY DIGGES AND ELIOT SENT TO
-PRISON--BUCKINGHAM’S MOTIVES FOR ENGAGING IN
-A WAR WITH FRANCE--HE ENDEAVOURS TO SEND
-AWAY THE QUEEN’S SERVANTS--HIS FEAR OF LOSING
-HIS INFLUENCE--ARRIVAL OF SOUBISE AND ROHAN--THE
-DUKE GOES TO DOVER--TO PORTSMOUTH--LETTERS
-FROM THE DUCHESS--FROM HIS MOTHER--HE
-SETS SAIL FOR ROCHELLE--HIS FIRST OPERATIONS
-SUCCESSFUL--CARE TAKEN BY HIM OF HIS TROOPS--1626-1627.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span><span class='large'>LIFE AND TIMES OF</span></div>
- <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'>GEORGE VILLIERS.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='c011' />
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div><span class='large'>CHAPTER I.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c012'>Whilst these matters were in agitation, the
-death of the Earl of Suffolk, Chancellor of the
-University of Cambridge, afforded the King an
-opportunity of evincing his unbounded favour to
-the Duke of Buckingham, even whilst he lay
-under the very shadow of a parliamentary impeachment.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>A few years previously, the unpopularity of the
-Duke at Cambridge had been manifested by a
-play, in which his measures were satirized, and
-which had been acted by the scholars of Ben’et
-College.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>The ancient discipline of the University appears,
-indeed, to have so greatly relaxed, that in 1625-6--in
-compliance with a letter from the King--Lord
-Suffolk had found it expedient to address
-the Heads of Houses, whom he styled “Gentlemen,
-and my loving friends,” exhorting them to
-restore order and “consequent prosperity to their
-University.”</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The last sentence had an ominous sound, for
-there were few cases in which the King thought it
-necessary to interfere, in which Buckingham did
-not prompt the royal mind to active measures.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Notwithstanding the unpopularity of his minister,
-disregarding the public notion that, as the
-patron and personal friend of Laud, Buckingham
-was the patron of Roman Catholics, and in direct
-defiance of the impeachment, all the influence of
-the Crown was employed to procure the Duke’s
-election to the office of Chancellor.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>That dignity was considered then, as it now is,
-one of the highest tributes to personal character,
-as well as to political eminence, that the nation
-could offer. It happened that Doctor Mew, the
-Master of Trinity College, was the King’s Chaplain.
-No fewer than forty-three votes were obtained
-by his means; nevertheless, there was a
-powerful opponent in Lord Thomas Howard, son
-of the late Chancellor; a hundred and three votes
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>against the Duke were secured by him, and with
-more exertion, it is supposed, that he might have
-defeated the Duke’s partisans.<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c013'><sup>[1]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Buckingham therefore was elected: thus did
-Charles, to use the words of Sir Henry Wotton,
-“add to the facings or fringings of the Duke’s
-greatness the embroiderings or listing of one
-favour upon another.” But the King, in point
-of fact, was doing his favourite the greatest injury,
-by thus marking him out as an object for the
-justly-aroused indignation of the public.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>His doom was, however, at hand. Whatsoever
-he may have intended to do for Cambridge
-was cut short by the hands of destiny. There
-remains, however, a very characteristic memorial
-of Buckingham in that University. The silver
-maces still in use, carried by the Esquire Bedells,
-were a present from the ill-fated Duke,<a id='r2' /><a href='#f2' class='c013'><sup>[2]</sup></a> whose
-presiding office was of so short continuance.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>It was to be expected that the House of Commons
-would receive with great anger this fresh
-proof of the King’s contempt for their body. Regarding
-this election as a reflection upon them,
-a resolution was passed to send to the University
-a remonstrance against their choice.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>Charles, however, considering--and with some
-justice--that this remonstrance would be an
-invasion of the privileges of the University,
-despatched a message to the House, by Sir
-Richard Weston, desiring them not to interfere;
-inditing, at the same time, a letter to the University,
-expressing his approbation of their election
-of the Duke.<a id='r3' /><a href='#f3' class='c013'><sup>[3]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The Duke’s answer to the impeachment was
-put in on the tenth of June: on the fourteenth
-the Commons presented a petition, praying for
-liberty to proceed in the discharge of their duty--and
-entreating that Buckingham might, during
-the impeachment, be removed from the royal
-presence.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Had the King yielded to a prayer so reasonable
-and equitable, the fury of the public might
-have been appeased. But he viewed the most
-important question of this early period of his
-reign, as between man and man, not as between
-a monarch and his subject. Buckingham’s great
-fault, he considered, was being his favourite. No
-criminality could be proved in any department of
-his conduct as minister.<a id='r4' /><a href='#f4' class='c013'><sup>[4]</sup></a> Nor could Charles,
-who had hung over the death-bed of his father,
-treat with anything but contempt the accusation
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>of poison. The King believed that all the other
-articles of the impeachment were prompted by a
-resolution, after attacking his minister, to assail
-his own prerogative. He had been reared in the
-greatest jealousy on that one point, and with the
-strongest and most conservative value for the
-sovereign authority. Charles, accomplished as a
-man, was profoundly ignorant and prejudiced as
-a king: his views were narrow, and his knowledge
-of the constitution of his country limited. His
-notions had been warped by a residence at the
-courts of France and Spain. The immediate
-effects of a despotic rule are to a superficial observer
-imposing. It is only to those who look
-into the interior circumstances of a people, and
-who well consider the tendencies of an arbitrary
-government to blight honest ambition, to cramp
-and weaken the national character, that its real
-misery and degradation are apparent.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>In Spain, with Buckingham ever at his side; in
-a court full of picturesque splendour; in youth,
-with hope and love before him, Charles had probably
-forgotten the aching hearts in the prisons
-of the Inquisition. In France, the irresistible
-fascinations of Richelieu had not, it is reasonable to
-suppose, been wanting to bias the mind of one
-likely to be so nearly allied to the royal family of
-France. Most of all those influences that betrayed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>Charles to his ruin must, however, be ascribed
-to the dogmatic fallacies of his father. James
-had educated according to his own contracted
-opinions not only his son, but the favourite who
-was hereafter, as it is expressed by Sir Henry
-Wotton, to be “the chief concomitant” of the
-future sovereign of England.<a id='r5' /><a href='#f5' class='c013'><sup>[5]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Of late years, before the quarrel with the
-Commons, the popularity of Buckingham had increased.
-The whole scene of affairs had been
-changed from Spain to France; the alteration
-was satisfactory to many, and was ascribed to the
-Duke--and he had not only become suddenly a favourite
-with the public, but had been extolled in
-Parliament.<a id='r6' /><a href='#f6' class='c013'><sup>[6]</sup></a> This was, indeed, says Wotton, “but
-a mere bubble or blast, and like an ephemeral fit
-of applause, as eftsoon will appear in the sequel
-and train of his life.” The contrast, therefore,
-between a success so recent and the present
-odium into which he had fallen, was no doubt the
-cause of much chagrin to the harassed favourite,
-who seems, like most men of sensitive natures,
-to have valued popularity, and to have been fully
-aware that his political life depended upon it.
-He knew that no man could long resist the force
-of public opinion in this country. Even in those
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>days, suppressed as it was by a fettered press, and
-by the gaunt spectre of injustice in Star-chambers,
-it had exploded into one burst of forcible indignation
-in the House of Commons. Somewhere the
-dauntless spirit of an Englishman must speak out,
-and it then began to make itself heard in that great
-assembly which had hitherto been almost as subservient
-to Court influence as the French Chamber
-of the present day.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The answer of the Duke to the Impeachment
-was drawn out with much skill by Sir Nicholas
-Hyde,<a id='r7' /><a href='#f7' class='c013'><sup>[7]</sup></a> the uncle of Edward Hyde, afterwards
-Lord Clarendon. Sir Nicholas was considered to
-be a sound lawyer, and a man of honourable character.
-He was a “staunch stickler,” says Lord
-Campbell, “for prerogative; but this was supposed
-to arise rather from the sincere opinion
-he formed of what the English constitution was
-or ought to be, than from a desire to recommend
-himself for promotion.”<a id='r8' /><a href='#f8' class='c013'><sup>[8]</sup></a> He succeeded Sir Randolf
-Crewe, who was suddenly removed from his
-seat to make room for one who had no objection
-to the arbitrary acts by which Charles endeavoured
-to support Buckingham, and who was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>ready to conduct the war with France without
-the aid of parliament.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The debates which were now carried on with
-vehemence seemed to produce little impression on
-the counsels which incited Charles and Buckingham
-to acts of insanity. The chief orators on the
-side of the parliament were Selden, Noy, and
-Thomas Wentworth, member for Oxford, and, before
-their commitment, Sir Dudley Digges, and Sir
-John Eliot. To this list several others must be
-added; amongst the most notable were those of
-Burton and Prynne. Burton had been one of the
-clerks of the closet to King Charles when Prince
-of Wales, and had been offended by not accompanying
-his royal master to Spain, but grew still
-more indignant at the preferment of Laud; and
-by being himself regarded as an “underling.” He
-was afterwards dismissed the court for various acts
-of insolence, and became, as a matter of course,
-the bitterest enemy of his late patron.<a id='r9' /><a href='#f9' class='c013'><sup>[9]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>There were now, to use the language of Sir
-Edward Coke, “two leaks in the ship,” or State.
-“Two leaks,” he declared, “would drown any
-ship;”<a id='r10' /><a href='#f10' class='c013'><sup>[10]</sup></a> yet Lord Campbell, as well as other historians,
-is of opinion that had it not been for the
-attempt to force episcopacy on Scotland, Charles,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>and even his descendants, might have continued
-to rule by absolute power, until, in the course of
-centuries, the public voice might have forced a
-revolution upon the country.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Whilst the levying of a loan, by which
-Charles hoped to supply the place of a grant
-from Parliament, was going on, Buckingham was
-using every effort to return to that country where,
-either as a lover or as a conqueror, he hoped to
-see Anne of Austria once more. According to
-Clarendon, he had sworn that he would see the
-Queen in spite of all the power of France, and
-that determination had originated the war which
-was now on the eve of commencing.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>In order to challenge reprisals, since there was
-no pretence to warrant a proclamation of war
-with France, Buckingham encouraged the capture
-of French vessels by English ships and privateers,
-taking the vanquished vessels as prizes. He
-began, also, to make his great influence available
-by his efforts to lower the French nation in the
-eyes of the King, fearing lest the young and beautiful
-queen should oppose the war. He endeavoured,
-it is alleged, to alienate the affections of
-the King from the bride of his choice, and to shew
-her personally every species of insolence and rudeness.
-Once, when she did not call upon his
-mother, as she had promised to do by appointment,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>Buckingham entered her Majesty’s room in
-a rage; the Queen answered him harshly: upon
-which he told her that there had been Queens in
-England who had lost their heads.<a id='r11' /><a href='#f11' class='c013'><sup>[11]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Buckingham appears to have been in a fever of
-jealousy; hitherto he had exercised a sole influence
-over his royal master. Henceforth, the
-less public but more sure sway of an idolized
-wife would for ever interfere with his counsels.
-Infuriated against the French, yet madly in love
-with their Queen, Buckingham had only been
-deterred from returning to France as a private
-individual by a dread of assassination on the part
-of Richelieu, who had, it appears, entertained that
-design. Having persuaded Charles to send back,
-contrary to treaties, the Queen’s French attendants,
-he now drove the inexperienced and irritated
-Henrietta Maria to despair; and finding herself
-in a foreign country, where all around her were
-inimical to her religion, and to herself, she passionately
-entreated to be allowed to return to France.
-Buckingham, rejoicing at the success of his
-schemes, besought Charles to allow him to conduct
-the Queen home. But that proposal, when
-transmitted to Paris, was indignantly rejected by
-the French Court, and the Duke was confirmed
-in his resolution to commence a war with a nation
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>which had the courage to decline his friendship.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>His scheme for sending back the Queen’s
-French servants had been, however, agreeable in
-the extreme to Charles--and it may even have been
-suggested by the King, who, in answer to a letter
-from the Duke, writes to him thus:--“Steenie,
-I have received your letters by Dic Graeme.
-This is my answer: I command you to send all
-the French away to-morrow out of town; if you
-can, by fair means, but stick not long in dispatching,
-otherwise force them away like so
-many wyld beasts, until ye have shipped them,
-and so the devil go with them. Let me hear
-no more answer, but of the performance of my
-command; so trust your faithful and constant
-friend, <span class='sc'>Charles R.</span> Dated Oaking, 7 Aug.
-1626.”<a id='r12' /><a href='#f12' class='c013'><sup>[12]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>His former loan of ships to the French implies
-a more friendly footing with that nation than these
-later passages of the Duke’s life may seem to indicate.<a id='r13' /><a href='#f13' class='c013'><sup>[13]</sup></a>
-It was in fact his dread of any influence
-stronger than his own that caused Buckingham to
-induce Charles to break off the treaty with Spain;
-and had instigated his animosity to France. Haunted
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>by the dread of being superseded in Charles’s
-favour, there were moments when his overburdened
-mind was opened to some humble
-friends, and the apprehensions of the King’s regard
-being alienated were imparted in agony to
-a confidant.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Buckingham was also aware of that intriguing
-and uncertain disposition in Henrietta Maria,
-which, in spite of a certain heroism of character
-which she possessed, shewed itself in mournful colours
-in later periods of her chequered life. The
-patronage which she wished to divide among her
-French followers was also a source of jealousy to
-the Duke, who had hitherto disposed of all Court
-offices to people who would support him in his
-state of power, or aid him if he fell. Henrietta
-was attended on her arrival in this country by
-many younger sons of good families in France,
-who looked to England as the field where golden
-honours were plentifully to be reaped. “They
-devoured so much,” we are told, “that all the thrift
-of Bishop Juxom, who had amassed much,
-was gulped down by these insatiable sharks.”<a id='r14' /><a href='#f14' class='c013'><sup>[14]</sup></a>
-Patronage and influence being withdrawn, the
-Duke’s ruin must, he knew, be complete. He had
-nothing to expect from his country, for he had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>never considered the interests of his native land
-as identified with his own. There were in his
-mind some motives of a higher class and a more
-general nature, although we must not look for lofty
-principles of action in those days.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The intrigues of Richelieu, who was now Buckingham’s
-rival and foe, worked in England through
-the Queen. The Duke had been overreached by
-the Cardinal, and thirsted for open revenge. By
-denying the troops of Count Mansfeldt a passage
-through France, the army of that celebrated
-general had perished. There was no doubt of
-Richelieu’s determination to extirpate the Protestants,
-and all promises of befriending them had
-long since proved faithless; the Duke, therefore,
-saw that he had been compromised, and he resented
-that superiority in trickery, which it is
-difficult for a mind like his to bear. Whilst he
-had thus been deceived by France, Buckingham
-was suffering by the popular cry against recusants;
-and the Romish priests, adding to that cry, were
-enjoining on Henrietta Maria, as a penance, that
-she should walk bare-footed to Tyburn, as a
-tribute to the memory of the Jesuits, who had
-been executed at that spot of sad remembrances.
-Thus, the cause of the suffering Protestants in
-France had become the cause of the people, and
-Buckingham hoped to regain his popularity by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>espousing it--whilst, at the same time, by sending
-away the French attendants of the Queen, he
-should banish the emissaries of Richelieu. Much
-of his conduct has been attributed to the influence
-of a French Abbot, who was related to the Duke
-of Orleans, who was also a violent enemy to the
-Cardinal.<a id='r15' /><a href='#f15' class='c013'><sup>[15]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Fortunately for Buckingham’s endeavours to
-regain popularity, the Duc de Soubise, who, together
-with the Duc de Rohan, his brother, were
-the great leaders of the Protestant party in
-France, arrived during the summer, after the dissolution
-of Parliament in England. The Abbot,
-it seems, who had incited Buckingham against
-Richelieu, had at the same time acquainted the
-Duc de Soubise with the state of affairs in England.
-The alliance of these two great noblemen was
-eagerly accepted by Buckingham. The Duc de
-Rohan engaged to supply 4000 foot and 200
-horse, to assist the English on landing in France;
-which was an enterprize eagerly coveted by
-Buckingham.<a id='r16' /><a href='#f16' class='c013'><sup>[16]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>M. de Soubise had at his command a fleet of
-twenty-three sail, which was to proceed at once
-to La Rochelle, then closely besieged by Richelieu,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>and to throw provisions into the town. The
-English Government engaged to fit these ships
-up, to victual them, and to store them with provisions
-for La Rochelle. Private information disclosed,
-however, that these “ships were miserable
-rotten things, of little or no force.” Their crews
-amounted to 1,261 wretched French sailors, who
-had neither bread nor drink till the Duke’s vice-admiral
-went down to Plymouth.<a id='r17' /><a href='#f17' class='c013'><sup>[17]</sup></a> Soubise had,
-afterwards, a supply of beef and pork allowed for two
-days a week; of fish, for the other four; some small
-store of butter and cheese, and some eighteen or
-twenty tons of cider. This seems to have been all the
-provisions for all the ships; and Admiral Pennington,
-writing to the Duke, said:--“I wish the Frenchmen
-had all the rest, for our people will never eat
-it, only the best of it.” So like the English now
-were the English then. A hundred tons of beer
-were to be supplied out of the town.<a id='r18' /><a href='#f18' class='c013'><sup>[18]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>But other unforeseen difficulties occurred, and
-the greatest was the want of men. The miserable
-provisions, or, perhaps, the lingering presence
-of the plague, now produced sickness and death
-among the seamen; “so that few of the captains,”
-writes Pennington, “have sufficient men to bring
-their ships about.” He begs to have a <em>strict</em> command
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>for the “press” sent him;<a id='r19' /><a href='#f19' class='c013'><sup>[19]</sup></a> but even that
-was of no avail, as the strongest men fled up the
-country and hid themselves in the woods.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Then certain merchants, to whom the Lord-Admiral
-looked for a supply of ships in war, were unwilling
-to lend their vessels. They even disabled
-their vessels to prevent their being used; and it
-became necessary for Pennington, as he stated, to
-send his carpenters to repair them--and after all
-he was obliged to wait for a reinforcement from
-Ireland.<a id='r20' /><a href='#f20' class='c013'><sup>[20]</sup></a> The poor Vice-Admiral wrote anxious
-letters, praying that the useless merchant-ships
-might be sent away; whilst the others, French
-and all, might be well provisioned at once. He
-entreated that a ship-load of cordage, cables,
-anchors, and sails for the furnishing of other ships,
-might come forthwith. This was a miserable beginning
-of an aggressive war, and Charles must
-now have seen his folly in having quarrelled with
-Parliament. Eventually, Pennington informed the
-Duke that he was obliged to discharge all the
-merchant ships, except a few from Ireland, which
-were in good condition.<a id='r21' /><a href='#f21' class='c013'><sup>[21]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The situation of the Duke seems, at this moment,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>to have been truly pitiable. It has been
-already stated that he received and answered all
-letters himself; and the applications made to him,
-in his capacity of High Admiral, seem to have
-been of the most minute character. Sometimes
-among his correspondence we find a letter from
-Admiral Burgh, wanting to know what he was to
-do with some Newfoundland fish which had come
-into his possession as Vice-Admiral.<a id='r22' /><a href='#f22' class='c013'><sup>[22]</sup></a> Then follow
-numerous complaints of the dilapidated state of the
-forts and castles which ought to have guarded
-the coasts. In 1625, however, they were reported
-to be in a perfect state for defence.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Often was the Duke addressed as “the most noble
-Prince George;” whilst in numerous epistles a tribute
-is paid to his justice and circumspection, which
-would surprise those who take the ordinary view
-of his character. His powers and his province
-were alike important. A Lord High Admiral was,
-to use the words of an eminent writer, “one to whom
-is committed the government of all things done
-upon or beyond the sea in any part of the world--all
-things done upon the sea-coast in all ports
-and harbours, and upon all rivers below the first
-bridge next towards the sea.” So far for his
-powers; the following were among the list of his
-privileges:--</p>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>“To the Lord High Admiral belong all penalties
-of all transgressions at sea or on the shore,
-the goods of pirates and felons, all stray goods,
-wrecks at sea and headlands, a share of all lawful
-prizes not granted to lords of manors adjoining
-the sea; all great fishes, as sea-dogs, and other
-great fishes, called royal fishes, except whales and
-sturgeon.”<a id='r23' /><a href='#f23' class='c013'><sup>[23]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Questions arising out of these privileges, and
-disputes between Lord Zouch and the captains of
-vessels, on the subject of wrecks, occur incessantly
-among the documents in the State-paper
-Office, which almost supply a history of the period.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>In the beginning of the year 1626, Buckingham
-had commenced his naval operations by sending to
-impress twenty of the best merchant-ships in the
-Thames or elsewhere; “such,” were his instructions,
-“as shall be most ready to go to sea, and most
-able to do his Majesty’s service in his present
-employments.”<a id='r24' /><a href='#f24' class='c013'><sup>[24]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The impressment of these vessels does not seem
-to have been successful in this instance; and
-although the captains to command them were appointed
-by Government, they found great difficulty,
-as has been before stated, in manning
-their ships.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>Great, meantime, were Buckingham’s endeavours
-to clear the seas of pirates, as well as to
-recover that dominion over the narrow seas upon
-which encroachments had been made. The Duke
-now began to be assisted by Sir Edward Nicholas,
-whose name appears at this period as the writer
-of the Duke’s answers to suitors, and who was
-evidently regarded with much confidence by
-Buckingham.<a id='r25' /><a href='#f25' class='c013'><sup>[25]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Although a fleet of twenty sail, of the king’s
-ships, and others had been prepared so early as
-the 6th of January, 1625-6, for a service of six
-months,<a id='r26' /><a href='#f26' class='c013'><sup>[26]</sup></a> yet it was not until June that the Duke
-suddenly left the court, and, with all the haste
-of his impetuous nature, went on board the
-fleet at Dover so unexpectedly that his secretary
-Nicholas could not join him before he
-set out, but was a few hours too late. Neither
-had due preparations been made; shoes, shirts,
-and stockings were wanting for three thousand
-men; the surgeons’ chests were not supplied with
-medicines; many of the soldiers’ arms were wanting;
-the colonels and captains begged to have
-new colours; the soldiers to have hammocks;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>and it was represented to the Duke that their food
-ought not to be so inferior as it then was to that
-of the sailors.<a id='r27' /><a href='#f27' class='c013'><sup>[27]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The Duke, according to Sir Henry Wotton’s statement,
-was personally employed on either element;
-both “Admiral and General,” there seems to
-have been a deficiency of discipline; several
-murders were committed by the soldiery, and an
-enforcement of martial law was recommended.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>His haste and secrecy had, perhaps, another
-object. It precluded those farewells which are
-the most touching to those who encounter the
-chances of war. In Buckingham’s case, the parting
-with his wife, whom he might never see again,
-must have been mingled with self-reproach as
-well as sorrow. He evaded it therefore by flight,
-notwithstanding a promise that he should see her
-again, nay even by an assurance that he should not
-go with the expedition to Rhé.<a id='r28' /><a href='#f28' class='c013'><sup>[28]</sup></a> This conduct
-wounded the poor Duchess to the heart, and
-it was perhaps these traits of conduct that
-alienated her affections, and made her less reluctant
-to a second marriage than might have
-been expected from one of her gentle nature.
-Buckingham’s apparent neglect would have been
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>inexplicable were it not remembered how completely
-an unhallowed passion for another severs
-and rends all domestic ties; and that, long before
-the links are broken, they are loosened by the first
-deviation from duty, even in thought. The following
-letters were probably found among the
-Duke’s papers at the time of his death, and so
-conveyed to the State-Paper Office, where they
-have remained buried--the words of reproach
-and sorrow, unheeded and unknown. They are
-evidently strictly confidential; but they explain
-and excuse, if anything can excuse, the after-conduct
-of the Duchess. Much that followed the
-Duke’s decease is accounted for in this epistle:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My Lord</span>,--Now as I do to plainly se you
-have deceved me, and if I judge you according
-to y<sup>r</sup> one<a id='r29' /><a href='#f29' class='c013'><sup>[29]</sup></a> words I must condemn you not only
-in this hut in your accation<a id='r30' /><a href='#f30' class='c013'><sup>[30]</sup></a> you so much
-forswore. I confese I deed ever fere you wood
-be catched, for there was no other likelyhoode
-after all that showe but you must needs go--for
-my part, but I have bine a very miserable woman
-hitherto that never could have you keepe at
-home, but now I will ever looke to be so till some
-blessed ocasion comes to draw you quite from the
-Cort, for ther is non more miserable than I am,
-and till you leve this life of a cortyer w<sup>ch</sup> you have
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>bine ever since I knewe you, I shall ever thynke
-myself unhappye. I am the unfortunate of all
-outher, that ever when I am w<sup>th</sup> child I must have
-so much cause of sorrow as to have you go from me,
-but I never had so great a cause of greeve as now.
-I hope God of his mercie give me patience, and if
-I were sure my soule wood be well I could wish
-myself to be out of this miserable world, for till
-then I shall not be happye: now I will no more
-right to hope you do not goe, but must betake myself
-to my prayers for your safe and prosperous
-jorney w<sup>ch</sup> I will not fayle to do, and for your
-quicke returne: but never, whilst I live, will I trust
-you agane, nor never will put you to your oathe
-for any thinge agane. I wonder why you sent
-me word by <em>crowe</em><a id='r31' /><a href='#f31' class='c013'><sup>[31]</sup></a> that you wood se me shortly,
-to put me in hopes: I pray God never woman may
-love a man as I have done you that non may
-fele that w<sup>ch</sup> I have done for you: sence ther is no
-remedy but that you must go, I pray God to send
-you gon quickly, that you may be quickly at home
-again, and whosoever that wisht you to this jorney
-by side yourselfe, that they may be punished for
-it, because of a greete dele of greeve to me; but
-that is no mater now ther is no remedy but patience
-w<sup>ch</sup> God send me. I pray God to send me
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>wise, and not to hurt myself w<sup>th</sup> greeving now. I am
-very well, I thanke God, and so is Mall and so
-I bid farewell.--Your poor greeved and obedient
-wife,</p>
-<div class='c014'>"<span class='sc'>K. Buckingham</span>.</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>"I pray give order before you goe for the
-jewells w<sup>ch</sup> I owe for ... burn this: for God’s
-sake, go not to lande: and pity me, for I feel (most
-miserable) at this time: be not angry with me for
-righting, for my hart is so full I cannot chuse, because
-I deed not looke for it.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>"I would to Jesus that there were in any way
-in the world to fetch you out of the jorney with
-y<sup>r</sup> honor, if any prayers or any suffering of mine
-could do it I were a most happy woman, but you
-have send y<sup>r</sup>self and made me miserable: God for
-give you for it.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>"You have forgoten poore Dicke Turpin for all
-y<sup>r</sup> promis to me.<a id='r32' /><a href='#f32' class='c013'><sup>[32]</sup></a></p>
-<p class='c015'>“26th June, 1627.
-To the Duke of Buckingham.”<a id='r33' /><a href='#f33' class='c013'><sup>[33]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>And again, on the sixteenth of June, was sent
-another epistle, full of affection:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My dere Lord</span>,--I was very much joy’d at
-the receiving y<sup>r</sup> leter last night, and I will assure
-you I do not only right cheerfully, but am so in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>my hart, and outwardly every on may see it, and
-so they do, for they tell me they ar glad to see me
-so cheerfull, and I hop sences. I will assure you I
-will not fayle to keep my promis w<sup>th</sup> you; I hope
-you will not deseve me in breaking yours, for I protest
-if you should, it woold half kill me: and
-I give you humble thanks for saying you will
-likewise keepe your word with me in the outher
-mane bisnes,<a id='r34' /><a href='#f34' class='c013'><sup>[34]</sup></a> as you call it. I am very glad you cam
-so well to y<sup>r</sup> jorneys end, but sorey it was so latt,
-for Mr. Murey told me it was nine a clocke before
-you gott thether. I pray lett me here as often
-from you as you can, and send me word when I
-shall be so hapye as to se you, for I shall think it
-very longe, my lord: I thanke God I am very well,
-so farwelle, my dere Lord, your true loving, and
-obedient wife,</p>
-<div class='c014'>"<span class='sc'>K. Buckingham</span>.<a id='r35' /><a href='#f35' class='c013'><sup>[35]</sup></a></div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"My Lord, for God sake lett some of that money
-w<sup>ch</sup> you in tended to have at Portsmouth to be left
-w<sup>th</sup> Dick Oliver, if it be but five hundred pound to
-pay Mr. Ward for a ringe and for a cross w<sup>h</sup> you
-gave to my Lady Exeter: for Jesus sake do this, for
-I am so hanted with them for it, that I do not
-know what to do; if you will but send me 400<em>l.</em> I
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>will dispatch them myself, for I cannot ster for
-them.<a id='r36' /><a href='#f36' class='c013'><sup>[36]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>"I beseech you remember my cusin Turpine.</p>
-<p class='c016'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham,
-my dere husband.”</span><a id='r37' /><a href='#f37' class='c013'><sup>[37]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>This epistle was soon followed by another letter,
-expressive of great affection--the poor Duchess
-begging of the Duke not to deceive her, and
-to love no one but herself. “It was impossible,”
-she writes, “for woman to love a man more than
-she did him.” Again she writes:--“beginning
-to fear” that some hints in which he had encouraged
-a hope of their meeting again before he sailed
-were but deceptions, and that she should not see him
-again, “she was grieved,” she added, “that he
-had not told her the truth.”<a id='r38' /><a href='#f38' class='c013'><sup>[38]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The Duke’s example and presence, however,
-after all these delays, had so great an effect both
-on officers and men, that, on the second of June,
-Sir Fulke Greville had to write word from Cowes
-Castle, that he could, with a “perspective,” see
-a part of the fleet in Stokes Bay.<a id='r39' /><a href='#f39' class='c013'><sup>[39]</sup></a> The Duke,
-meantime, was harassed with difficulties; affairs
-were far from being in a satisfactory condition;
-there was continual difficulty in getting seamen,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>and supplies of money were wanting to leave the
-coast guarded, to repair the navy, to furnish
-stores, and to pay the sailors on their return from
-Rhé.<a id='r40' /><a href='#f40' class='c013'><sup>[40]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Meantime the town of Portsmouth was gladdened
-by the presence of the King, who walked
-round the fortifications; and, judging for himself
-of the ruinous state of the bulwarks, promised
-that they should be repaired. It was Buckingham’s
-intention at this time to build a new
-dock at Portsmouth, in order to supersede that at
-Chatham, and thus to benefit the naval service
-incredibly.<a id='r41' /><a href='#f41' class='c013'><sup>[41]</sup></a> Charles entered into this admirable
-plan. Accompanied by Monsieur de Soubise,
-the Earls of Rutland and Denbigh, Lord Carlisle
-and the Lord Chamberlain, he went aboard
-several of the ships, and dined at last in the
-“Triumph.” At table his conversation ran all day
-on the armament, and he asked Sir John Watts,
-in his own language, whether “she” (the
-“Triumph”) “could yar or not?” The repast went
-off with great hilarity: the Duke’s musicians playing
-merrily, and Archie the fool, and Sir Robert
-Deale, adding to the general jollity. Well might
-the Duchess, nevertheless, mourn at the departure
-of her husband. The plague was raging in the fort
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>of La Rochelle with as much fury as in England.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>At length, on the 27th of June, the Duke
-sailed from Portsmouth. If we could accept as
-sincere the good wishes which attended his departure,
-no man ever left England with greater
-assurances of devotion. “Secretary Conway was
-ready,” he declared, “to carry his hand all the world
-cries for the Duke’s service.” “The Duke’s good
-works,” he said, “came forth with a better grace
-than he ever observed in the acts of any other
-man. Besides his own duty, affection, and humble
-endeavour and thorough hope,” he “joyed”
-to consign to the Duke the duty, thankfulness,
-faith, and affection of his posterity.<a id='r42' /><a href='#f42' class='c013'><sup>[42]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Secretary Cope sent a message of good wishes
-in these terms: “God direct his ways and his
-ends, and make them acceptable to himself and
-all good <a id='corr29.18'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='men.'>men.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_29.18'><ins class='correction' title='men.'>men.”</ins></a></span><a id='r43' /><a href='#f43' class='c013'><sup>[43]</sup></a> Even the Queen, between
-whom and the Duke there had been so great a
-coolness, sent him a letter, with best wishes. <a id='corr29.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='“Sir'>Sir</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_29.20'><ins class='correction' title='“Sir'>Sir</ins></a></span>
-George Goring, writing to his “ever and above
-all most honoured Lord,” the Duke of Buckingham,
-engaged to “keep the Duke safe with the Queen.”
-The Duchess could not, however, he said, reconcile
-herself to his departure, without one word of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>farewell; and the Duke’s mother thought a “word
-or two in” excuse would revive her much.<a id='r44' /><a href='#f44' class='c013'><sup>[44]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>It was not therefore, it seems, the departure
-alone of her husband, but his neglect, that pained
-her. Fond, indeed, and true were the hearts that
-mourned for his absence in peril. His sister, the
-Countess of Denbigh, shed many a tear when she
-missed the Duke at chapel on the morning of his
-departure with the King.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>His mother’s blessing was given in these few,
-but very expressive words:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>“<span class='sc'>My deare and most beloved Sonne</span>,--Your
-departure lies grevous at my hart, being
-oprest with many motherly feres, and were it not
-for the great joy I beheld in your face that presages
-some good fortunes, I had bene much worse,
-but since it must be as it is, I will omit all (with
-you) to God’s pleasure, assuring my selfe he that
-hath done so much for you, will make you a happy
-instrument of his further glory, and your eternall
-comfort; to which end I will addres all my prayers
-to our sweet Saviour Jesus,--being your ever most
-assured loving Mother,</p>
-
-<div class='c014'><span class='sc'>M. Buckingham</span>.<a id='r45' /><a href='#f45' class='c013'><sup>[45]</sup></a></div>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham.”</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>The first letter, written according to the Duke’s
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>orders, by Sir James Bagg, who accompanied
-him, to Secretary Nicholas, shewed how unabated
-was the impetuous and arbitrary spirit of the
-favourite. “The Duke,” Bagg wrote, “is very desirous
-to have the refusers of the loan sent for to the
-council, which will make the western people sensible
-that Eliot and Coryten do not only lie by
-the heels for my Lord’s sake.”<a id='r46' /><a href='#f46' class='c013'><sup>[46]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>He set out, however, in high spirits, excited by
-the change of scene, and full of confidence in his
-projected movements. It is agreeable to find a
-concern for the comfort and health of the troops,
-which amounted in all to between six and seven
-thousand, under his command. On the twelfth of
-July, the “Triumph,” with nineteen great ships of
-the fleet, was seen near St. Martin’s, at Rochelle;
-King Charles’s colours, the white flag, and the St.
-Andrew’s cross, in the main tops, being visible to
-the dismayed French over in the port; and
-firing from our ships was instantly commenced.
-Whilst these operations were going on, we find
-Buckingham writing to Secretary Nicholas, desiring
-that victuals may be sent after them with
-all possible speed; and, above all, to take care that
-the fleet be furnished out of hand with London
-beer; “the beer from Portsmouth,” adds the
-Lord-Admiral, “proves naught, and the soldier is
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>better satisfied with his beer, if it is good, than
-with his <a id='corr32.2'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='victuals.'>victuals.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_32.2'><ins class='correction' title='victuals.'>victuals.”</ins></a></span><a id='r47' /><a href='#f47' class='c013'><sup>[47]</sup></a> At first the Duke’s expedition
-was attended with success; a landing at St. Martin’s
-point, opposite to Rochelle roads, was effected,
-and the French, who attacked the invaders, were
-driven back with considerable slaughter. On the
-14th of July the troops advanced inland, and
-took the small fort of St. Marie, and the town of
-La Flotte; on the eighteenth they gained possession
-of the town of St. Martin’s. Great praises
-of the Duke’s valour were transmitted to England,
-by a writer who penned his epistle on a drum’s
-head, near St. Martin’s. The forces then beleaguered
-the fort, erecting a battery of twenty-one pieces
-of “ordnance.” “The Lord-General,” wrote
-Sir Allen Apsley, “is the most industrious,
-and in all business one of the first in
-person in dangers. Last night the enemy’s ordnance
-played upon his lodging, and one shot
-lighted upon his bed, but did him no harm.”<a id='r48' /><a href='#f48' class='c013'><sup>[48]</sup></a>
-“Unluckily,” adds the same writer, “there was
-no bread and beer thought of for the soldiers--wheat
-instead of bread, and wine instead of
-beer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>There appeared every prospect of a long siege,
-unless reinforcements from England should arrive
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>to strengthen the Duke’s efficiency. Whilst the
-fort held out, the citizens of La Rochelle knew not
-which side to take. The Duke, every writer from
-St. Martin’s agreed, behaved in the most admirable
-manner, shewing qualities which no one suspected
-him of possessing. “His care is infinite, his courage
-undauntable, his patience and continual labours
-beyond what could have been expected.” Such
-was the language of one of Secretary Conway’s
-correspondents. “Himself,” continues this writer,
-“views the grounds, goes to the trenches, visits the
-batteries, observes where the shell doth light, and
-what effects it works.”<a id='r49' /><a href='#f49' class='c013'><sup>[49]</sup></a> The greatest vigilance
-was indeed necessary, owing to the carelessness of
-some of the officers; there was no one of any great
-capacity except the Duke and Sir John Burgh--a
-brave but rough soldier, whose plain speaking
-was often offensive to Buckingham. His chief adviser
-in military affairs was Monsieur Dulbier, a
-man of great experience, but devoid of any striking
-talents.<a id='r50' /><a href='#f50' class='c013'><sup>[50]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Meantime the poverty of the Treasury at home
-impeded the speedy supplies for which Buckingham
-incessantly wrote. It was his urgent necessity
-that stimulated the unjust and extortionate
-collection of the loan--in default of contributions
-to which imprisonment was the instant punishment.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>Several Frenchmen, also, were about this
-time committed for trying to allure Sir Sackville
-Crowe’s workmen into France to cast ordnance.<a id='r51' /><a href='#f51' class='c013'><sup>[51]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Disheartened by the delay of the supplies, Buckingham
-wrote word that he was making trenches,
-but, owing to the stony nature of the ground, they
-went on slowly, whilst the Fleet was dispersed
-round the Island of Rhé; so that unless some
-speedy succour came, the expedition could scarcely
-be benefited by anything that might be sent. The
-citadel, he considered, would be impregnable, if once
-the fortifications were perfected; in its present
-unfurnished state, the only way would be to take
-it by famine. Already thirty musketeers who had
-been sent out to get water had been captured.
-Toiras, the Governor, was likely “to make the place
-his death-bed.” The enemy were strong, and the
-siege would doubtless be a long one, but he was
-confident that the King would not let him want
-aid. By the advice of the Duc de Soubise, he had
-issued a proclamation, setting forth that the King’s
-intention was only to assist the Protestants.<a id='r52' /><a href='#f52' class='c013'><sup>[52]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>But the Protestants in La Rochelle unhappily
-refused the aid<a id='r53' /><a href='#f53' class='c013'><sup>[53]</sup></a> of the ever-hated English. Louis
-XII. was ill; the court was divided into factions:
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>and favourable terms were even offered the Huguenots,
-provided that they did not admit the
-English into the city.<a id='r54' /><a href='#f54' class='c013'><sup>[54]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The Duke, during all this time of deep anxiety,
-attended religious service daily, and was, it is possible,
-the more inclined to have recourse to the One
-Source of help and safety, an attempt to assassinate
-him having been made whilst he was beleaguering
-Fort St. Martin. No impression was made upon
-the enemy, who were three thousand strong in
-garrison. Mines were resorted to; two water-pipes
-were cut off, and the besieged were driven
-out of their outworks; but Buckingham wrote
-word from the camp that his army, without a supply,
-would soon not only be disabled from continuing
-the siege, but would lose what they had
-gained.<a id='r55' /><a href='#f55' class='c013'><sup>[55]</sup></a> His anxiety on this point was expressed
-in every letter, and in the most earnest terms, and
-it was fully responded to by Charles I., but still a
-reinforcement of two thousand men which had
-been promised did not arrive. Money could not
-be raised, and the King was obliged to wait the
-issue of “three bargains” offered to him before he
-could send out either provisions or men.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Nothing could be more vexatious than the position
-of the Duke. He was within a distance of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>what was then three or four days’ sail from
-England--his credit, his honour, perhaps his life,
-were staked on the relief of the Huguenot citizens
-of La Rochelle. Forty days, nevertheless, elapsed
-without even a message by fisher-boat reaching
-the famishing troops, “who were well supplied
-with wheat, but had neither means to grind, or
-ovens to bake it.”<a id='r56' /><a href='#f56' class='c013'><sup>[56]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>It was not until the twenty-seventh of August,
-two calendar months since the expedition had
-sailed from Portsmouth,that arms, ammunition, and
-victuals were sent off by Nicholas--“honest
-Nicholas,” as the Duke used to call him; but no
-money came. Of that which was intended for the
-Duke, some was raised by his own stewards, but
-was detained on account of pressing claims in his
-own affairs. The want of money was almost distracting.
-Nothing could be extracted from the
-Lord Treasurer Middlesex; even at home the
-young Queen Henrietta Maria declared herself
-to be terribly incommoded for want of it.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>“Send us men,” was the burden of every letter
-from the camp; and a small contribution from a
-quarter little suspected of patriotism was the answer
-to this appeal--Lady Hatton furnishing six
-stalwart volunteers from Purbeck, clothed and
-armed from head to foot.<a id='r57' /><a href='#f57' class='c013'><sup>[57]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>The Duke’s mother, too, after the manner of
-mothers, remitted him some money, and, at the
-same time sent him, as mothers do on such occasions,
-a reproving letter. But, unhappily, she who
-had implanted the lessons of worldly wisdom, and
-those alone, and whose whole life had been a commentary
-on those precepts, could not hope to influence
-her son for good. She indeed reaped as
-she had sown. One cannot, however, avoid pitying
-the alarm which was soon to be so fearfully
-realized by the events which succeeded the fatal
-enterprize.</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My deerly beloved sonne</span>--I am very
-sorrie you have entered into so great busines, and so
-little care to supply your wants as you see by the
-little hast that is mad to you. I hop your eys wil be
-oppened to se what a greate goulfe of businesses
-you have put your selfe into, and so little regarded
-at home, wher all is mery and well plesed, though
-the shepes be not vitiled as yet, nor mariners to go
-with them: as for monyis the kingdom will not
-supply your expences, and every man grones
-under the burden of the tymes. At your departuer
-from me, you tould me you went to make pece,
-but it was not from your hart: this is not the
-way for you to imbroule the hole christian world
-in warrs, and then to declare it for religion, and
-make God a partie to this wofull affare so far
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>from God as light and darknes; and the high way
-to make all christian Princes to bend ther forces
-against us, that other ways in policie would have
-taken our parts. You knew the worthy King your
-master<a id='r58' /><a href='#f58' class='c013'><sup>[58]</sup></a> never liked that way, and as far as I can
-perseve ther is non that crise not out of it. You
-that acknowleg the infinite mercy and providence
-of all mightie god in preserving your life amongest
-so many that false doune ded on every side
-you, and spares you for more honor to himself, if
-you would not be wilfully blind and overthro your
-selfe, body and soule, for he hath not I hope
-made y<sup>u</sup> so great and gevin you so many exsellent
-parts as to suffer you to die in a dich,--let me that
-is your mother intreat you to spend some of your
-ouers in prayers, and meditating what is fitting
-and plesing in His sight that has done so much for
-you, and that honor you so much strive for: bend
-it for his honor and glorie, and you will sone find
-a chang so great that you would not for all the
-kinddomes in world for goe, if you might have
-them at your disposing: and do not think it out of
-fere and timberousnes of a woman I perswad you
-to this;--no, no, it is that I scorne. I would have
-you leve this bluddy way in which you are exept
-into, I am sure contray to your natuer and disposition.
-God hath blessed you with a vartuis wife
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>and swet daughter, with an other sonne, I hope,
-if you do not distroy it by this way you take: she
-can not beleve a word you speke, you have so
-much deseved herselfe: she works carefully for
-you in sending monies with the supply that is now
-in coming, though slowly: it would have bene
-worse but for her. But now let me come to my
-selfe. If I had a world you should command it,
-and whatsoever I have ore shall have it: it is all
-yours by right, but, alas, I have layd out that mony
-I had, and mor by a thousand ponds, by your consent
-in bying of Gouldsmise Grang which I am
-very sory for now. I never dremed you should
-have neded any of my helpe, for if I had ther
-should have wanted all and my selfe before you.
-I hop this servant will bring us better newes of
-your resolutions then yett we here of; which I
-pray hartily for and give almass for you that it
-will pleas Allmighty God to deret your hart the
-best way to his honor and glorie. I am ever</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“your most loving affectionat sad Mother,</div>
- <div class='line in24'>“<span class='sc'>M. Buckingham</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham.”</span><a id='r59' /><a href='#f59' class='c013'><sup>[59]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>Very different was the style in which the affectionate-hearted
-Duchess thus addressed him. The
-characters of these two women are singularly contrasted
-in these letters:--</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span></div>
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My dere Lord</span>--Already do I begine to
-thinke what a longe time I shall live without
-seeing you: truly there can be no greater affliction
-to me in the world than your absences, and I confese
-you have layd a very harde comand upon me
-in biding me be merey now in y absences, but I
-will assure yo nothing can be harde to me when I
-know I pleas you in the doing of it, thoughe
-outherways it would be:--remember your promis
-to me, but do not deseve me, for now I believe any
-thinge you saye, and love me only still, for it is
-impossible for woman to love mane more than I
-do you, and you have left me very well satisfied
-w<sup>th</sup> you. <em>My</em> Lord, I have sent you a letter which
-I beseech you give to the Commissioner about my
-sister Wasington’s deat, because without that
-my Lord Savage can do nothing, and the touther
-is a warrant to Oliver for the allowances you give
-her, w<sup>ch</sup> he refuses to paye w<sup>th</sup> out one:--good my
-Lord, dispatch Dicke Turpin, and I shall thinke
-myself infinitely obliged to you for it. I am very
-well, I thanke God: you shall be sure to heare
-often, and do not forget to right often to me and
-remember your promis, thus wishing you all happynes,
-I rest, your trewe loving and obedent wife,</p>
-<div class='c014'>"<span class='sc'>K. Buckingham</span>.</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>"Pray remember my duty to my Father.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham.”</span><a id='r60' /><a href='#f60' class='c013'><sup>[60]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c010'>THE DELAY IN SENDING PROVISIONS--THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF REDUCING THE CITADEL BY FAMINE--THE DUKE’S OWN MEANS WERE EMBARKED IN THE CAUSE--SIR JOHN BURGH--HIS DEATH--LETTER OF SIR EDWARD CONWAY TO HIS FATHER--BUCKINGHAM’S SANGUINE NATURE--EFFORTS OF SIR EDWARD NICHOLAS.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span><span class='large'>CHAPTER II.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c012'>In spite of incessant appeals to the authorities at
-home, the end of August arrived, and no provisions
-were received at the camp. The Duke
-then addressed Sir William Becher, enclosing a
-letter to be shewn to the King, stating that, if provisions
-did not arrive within twenty days, it would
-be impossible to detain the mariners at Rhé. Provisions,
-the Duke said, were getting low; and the
-cannon did little harm to the citadel, which would
-only be subdued by famine.<a id='r61' /><a href='#f61' class='c013'><sup>[61]</sup></a> All seemed of no
-avail. “Everything,” as Sir William Becher complained
-to Nicholas, “seemed to go backwards.”
-Even the Duke’s own money, which he had wished
-to advance to the victuallers, was still kept back by
-his stewards; and six hundred quarters of wheat
-belonging to him, which he had left at Portsmouth
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>as a supply, were still in that seaport. One cannot
-help echoing the exclamation of Sir Edward Conway,
-in writing to his father, General Conway--“If
-we lose this island it shall be your faults in England!”
-Every letter, meantime, spoke of the carelessness
-of life shown by the Duke, of the sanguine
-nature that encouraged others, and of his great affection
-to the King, and to the cause he had undertaken.<a id='r62' /><a href='#f62' class='c013'><sup>[62]</sup></a>
-The difficulties which were encountered in
-getting provisions together are almost inconceivable
-at the present day: the merchants refused to supply
-anything that would not yield them fifteen
-per cent; but at last, Sir Edward Nicholas prevailed
-with some Bristol speculators, his friends,
-to send provisions, on condition that their men
-should not be pressed into the service, and that
-the vessels should be laden with salt.<a id='r63' /><a href='#f63' class='c013'><sup>[63]</sup></a> This aid
-was, indeed, timely, for the troops were beginning
-to consider themselves neglected and forgotten by
-their country.<a id='r64' /><a href='#f64' class='c013'><sup>[64]</sup></a> And a great loss contributed to
-the general dejection. Sir John Burgh, the brave
-though uncourtly officer who had quarrelled with
-the Duke, was shot through the body in the
-trenches, and killed. Sir Edward Conway, writing
-to his father, thus simply, and as a true soldier,
-remarks, that “the sorrow of the Duke, and the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>honours he doth in his burial, are sufficient encouragements
-to dying.” “There was some difference”
-he adds, “between Burgh and the Duke,
-through some inconsiderate words, on the part of
-former, which were by the Duke so freely <a id='corr45.5'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='forgiven,'>forgiven,”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_45.5'><ins class='correction' title='forgiven,'>forgiven,”</ins></a></span>
-and through these Conway thought “an
-honest man and the Duke could not be enemies.”
-By Buckingham’s orders the old general’s remains
-were sent home, to be interred in Westminster
-Abbey. “The army,” the same writer relates,
-“grows daily weaker--purses are empty, ammunition
-consumes, winter grows, their enemies increase
-in number and power, and they hear nothing
-from England.”<a id='r65' /><a href='#f65' class='c013'><sup>[65]</sup></a> At length, on the twenty-first of
-September a letter<a id='r66' /><a href='#f66' class='c013'><sup>[66]</sup></a> came from one of Buckingham’s
-friends, Sir Robert Pye, who, whilst declaring
-that the reinforcements were in great forwardness,
-begged of the Duke to “consider the end,”
-and to reflect on the exhausted state of the revenue,
-which was forestalled, he states, for three
-years; much land had been sold, all credit lost, and
-Government was at the utmost shift with the commonwealth.
-“Would that I did not know so much
-as I do,” added the courtier. Deputy-Lieutenants
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>were supine, and Justices of the Peace of the
-better sort willing to be put out of the commission:--every
-man “doubting and providing for
-the worst,” so that all were in a sort of panic.
-All these discomforts were ascribed to the loan,
-and the loan was the consequence of the projected
-war with France and Spain. Too late did
-Charles, who had hitherto left everything to the
-Duke, “knit his soul unto business,” and endeavour
-to provide for the fruitless contest.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The month of October proved even more disastrous
-to the English than September. Hopes
-were entertained of a surrender. Two gentlemen
-from the citadel came to treat of surrendering;
-and, after trying to make conditions, asked leave
-till the next day to consider them. The night was
-dark and stormy; notice was given of the approach
-of an enemy; the Duke put out to sea himself,
-but the barques took a wrong direction, and the
-enemy’s fleet of thirty-five barques broke through
-that of the English, and the Admiral of the Fleet
-was taken prisoner. Fourteen or fifteen of the
-enemy’s barques, however, furnished with a
-month’s provisions, got through to the citadel,
-which was thus relieved. On account of the
-sickness produced by the immoderate eating of
-grapes, and also considering the uncertainty of
-supplies from England, there were many of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>Colonels who now recommended retiring from before
-Rhé; and so discouraged was the Duke at
-this failure, that he was on the point of going
-back to England, when an offer from the citizens
-of La Rochelle to take a thousand sick
-into their town, and to send to the camp five
-hundred men with provisions, encouraged him
-to wait for reinforcements.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>On this incident the fortune of the whole siege
-seemed to hinge, and it must have been extremely
-tantalizing, when the citadel was on the very eve of
-surrendering, to find that relief had been poured
-into it by the enemy. No one could imagine how
-it had been managed. There was a nightly watch
-of six hundred boats; the Duke was generally
-among the men in these boats, or in the trenches,
-till near midnight; even the common sailors pitied
-his exertions, and felt for his anxieties. Then
-there was a battery of seven cannon, that fired
-upon the very landing-place, beneath the Fort,
-besides sunken collies that played on the same
-spot. The wind was then fair for Rhé, and the
-merchant ships that had been hired were making
-for the Island; but the others were detained,
-since no supplies from England had arrived to
-enable them to act. In the midst of all his uncertainties
-the following letter from the Duchess
-was despatched to the Duke:--</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span></div>
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My Lord</span>--I ded the last night here very
-good nwse that you had taken the ships w<sup>ch</sup> cam
-to releve the fort, which I hope will so much discurage
-them as now they will be out of all hope, and
-quickly yeelde it upe, and then I hope you will
-remember your promise in making hast home, for
-I will assure you both for the publicke, and our
-private good here in cort, ther is great neede of
-you, for your great Lady,<a id='r67' /><a href='#f67' class='c013'><sup>[67]</sup></a> that you believe is so
-much your frend, uses your frends something worse
-then when you were here, and your favour has
-made her so great as now shee cares for nobody:
-and poore Gordon is the basist used that ever any
-creature was, for now you ar not here to take his
-part they do flie most fercly uppon him, but when
-you com I hope all things will be mended. I pray
-say nothing of this, and be sure to burne this leter
-when you have rede it. I thanke God I am very
-well. Mall is very well, I thanke God. I thanke
-you for the orange water you sent me, but yett I
-dare not us it coming from the Governor,<a id='r68' /><a href='#f68' class='c013'><sup>[68]</sup></a> thus
-praying for your health, in hast, I rest</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“your trewe loving and obedent wife,</div>
- <div class='line in19'>“<span class='sc'>K. Buckingham</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>“10th Octr.”</p>
-<p class='c018'><span class='small'>1627(?)--(<em>on the back of the original letter in pencil.</em>)</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>Whilst money was thus called for in vain, to
-carry on the war, the defences at home were daily
-becoming more and more ruinous. The castles in
-the Downs were in danger of being swallowed by
-the sea: and water got into the moat of Deal
-Castle; the Lanthorn of that fort was wholly
-destroyed, the loss of which, being a sea-mark,
-was a source of bitter complaint; Walmer Castle
-was in ruins.<a id='r69' /><a href='#f69' class='c013'><sup>[69]</sup></a> Friends there were who wrote to
-Buckingham to urge strongly on his attention all
-that was threatening the country, and to suggest
-his return; amongst these the Viscount Wilmot<a id='r70' /><a href='#f70' class='c013'><sup>[70]</sup></a>
-was one whose expressions were modified by great
-kindness, and evident partiality for the Duke;
-whilst advice came less graciously from Viscount
-Wimbledon, whose recent failure must have rendered
-his comments on the affair far from palatable.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Before his letter of suggestion and advice
-could have arrived, Buckingham had, however,
-consented to a retreat. The state of despair into
-which his troops had been thrown by the reinforcement
-of the citadel, and their discovery of the
-false representations of the amount of provisions
-on which the besieged could count, induced him
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>to take this fatal step. Presently, however, better
-information was obtained; and though the sick
-had been sent into La Rochelle, and the ordnance
-embarked, the vacillating Duke again determined
-to “stay and bide it out.”</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>In the midst of this perplexity, on the fifteenth
-of October, a valuable auxiliary was sent in the
-person of Charles, Viscount Wilmot.<a id='r71' /><a href='#f71' class='c013'><sup>[71]</sup></a> Lord
-Holland also set sail, but the Duke now found
-it difficult to persuade the men to await the long
-promised assistance. “Pity our misery!” was their
-cry. The people were “looking themselves and
-their perspectives” (as telescopes were then styled)
-“blind in watching for Lord Holland from the tops
-of houses;” yet that nobleman lingered at Portsmouth,
-pretending to believe that Buckingham,
-who, he said, he knew “would stay till the last
-<em>bite</em>,” might be supplied with victuals from the
-west. Then he feared also, as he stated, that the
-Duke might have sailed towards home; that he was
-ill supplied with provisions; and that he might be
-obliged to put back into France or Spain. The
-King, meantime, was wondering and asking why
-Holland lingered first at Portsmouth and then in
-the Downs? Charles’s impatience was expressed
-with a force unusual to his gentle character. Until
-the eighteenth of October, no one in England, it
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>appears, knew of the great distress into which
-Buckingham and the forces were plunged by
-the failure of the supplies.<a id='r72' /><a href='#f72' class='c013'><sup>[72]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Whilst the wind was against the Duke’s return,
-no one could suppose that he would throw up the
-whole end of the expedition, and sail homewards;
-yet reports of his preparing to do so continually
-got abroad, as may be seen from the following
-letters from the Countess of Denbigh, Buckingham’s
-only sister, by whom he was much
-beloved:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>“<span class='sc'>Moust deere brother</span>--I hope these nue
-supplys will give you such advantage to you, that
-your busines will be ended to your honer and
-contentment. I pray be not be to hasty to ingage
-your selfe in any other afares till you see howe
-you shall be supplyed. I would you could but
-see our afares here: wee ar sometymes for Ware,
-some tymes a showe of Peace: poor I must be
-patiend: I have much to speeke to lett you
-knowe of all particulars, but I am a bad relater of
-thinges. I will promis you to play my part in
-patience, and when you com you well not be lede
-away with them that doth not love you, and be
-false to you and all yours. I pray God to bles you:
-forgit not to rede of the booke I gave you, and if
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>you will take phisick this fall of the leafe you
-shall do very well, so I take my leave.</p>
-<div class='column-container'>
-<div class='col_left'>
-“20th Octr. 1627.
-</div>
-<div class='col_right'>
-“your loving sister,<br/><span class='sc'>Su. Denbigh</span>.” <a id='r73' /><a href='#f73' class='c013'><sup>[73]</sup></a>
-</div>
-</div>
-<p class='c018'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham.”</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>“<span class='sc'>Moust deere brother</span>--I hope you will be
-sure of supplyes before you undertake to go to
-Rocchell, for ether ther hath beene some grate
-mistake or neglicte: that you [should have beene]
-in any distrecs, it doth grefe my very hart and sole.
-I heare you have beene in great wantes, but I
-hope before this you are released. I pray be not
-to venterus, and I hope you well not forgit the
-booke I gave you, to looke over it often, at the
-leaste morning and evening, so with my best love,
-I take my leave.</p>
-<div class='column-container'>
-<div class='col_left'>
-“26th Octr. 1627.
-</div>
-<div class='col_right'>
-“your loveing sister,<br/><span class='sc'>Su. Denbigh</span>.”
-</div>
-</div>
-<p class='c018'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham, my deere Brother.”</span><a id='r74' /><a href='#f74' class='c013'><sup>[74]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>It must have been peculiarly aggravating, amidst
-the anxieties of the Duchess and Lady Denbigh,
-to find that all the Duke’s perplexities, privations,
-and sufferings had not in the slightest
-degree mitigated his unpopularity at home. It
-must have been still more irritating to know that,
-whilst the troops before St. Martin’s Fort were in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>a state of starvation, there was the greatest disorder
-and carelessness in sending the supplies.
-“There is,” Lord Wilmot wrote to Conway,
-“neither commissary of victuals, nor any one to
-give account of arms. They find one thousand
-muskets, but no pikes nor armour.” Meantime the
-Duke’s army were in want of clothes, and mostly
-went barefoot.<a id='r75' /><a href='#f75' class='c013'><sup>[75]</sup></a> Then Lord Holland, when at last
-on board the fleet, complained that there was no
-one officer or creature who could tell what there
-was aboard the provision ships, five of which were
-Dutch, and might steal away at any moment.
-There seems to have been neither patriotism at
-home, in regard to this expedition, nor honour in
-allies, nor even common honesty in the commanders
-of hired vessels.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>For several days the wind continued contrary to
-Lord Holland’s departure from Plymouth. The
-twenty-sixth of October had arrived, and the Duke,
-as it appeared from private letters, had "stayed it
-out till the last bit of bread:"--such is the expression
-of John Ashburnham, a devoted partisan of
-Buckingham’s: fears were even entertained that
-the fleet and army were lost; then “such a rotten,
-miserable fleet set out to sea as no man ever saw;”
-“our enemies,” Ashburnham adds, “seeing it, may
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>scoff at our nation.” Lord Holland, who had been
-expected by the Duke on the fifteenth, was still
-waiting for a fair wind at Plymouth on the twenty-seventh,<a id='r76' /><a href='#f76' class='c013'><sup>[76]</sup></a>
-employing himself there in trying to expedite
-recruits, and to send out a Scottish regiment.
-“In his responsibility” (as he wrote to the
-King) "he had provided two or three hundred
-live sheep, to go out for the sick men, who die for
-want of fresh meat;"--“three thousand pairs of
-stockings for the men in the trenches; physic also,
-and an apothecary.” Despair, however, possessed
-all minds; and a report now began to disquiet even
-the sanguine, stating that the French were landing
-an army on the Island of Rhé. The report
-was true; one fatal mistake had been made by
-Buckingham--he had left the fort of St. Pré
-unmolested.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>This castle, seated, as its name bespeaks, in a
-meadow, had appeared too paltry a conquest to
-the sanguine and impetuous Buckingham, when he
-had first landed at Rhé. He had passed it untouched,
-but it was now well garrisoned with
-French troops from the mainland; still its importance
-was not fully comprehended until the
-fatal moment came for a retreat from before Fort
-St. Martin. It is evident that the Duke had
-overlooked that which should have been a preliminary
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>step in his march; and that his attention
-had been distracted by an undertaking too arduous
-for a man whose life had been passed in a very different
-battle-field from that on which he now ventured
-his fortunes. Hitherto, he had been a mere
-civilian, knowing nothing of war, but in the Tourney--nothing
-of nautical matters, but in gala-vessels,
-or some favourite ship; and little of the sea, but on
-maps. Well might his mother caution him not to
-engage in too “great business;” it was not, in his
-case, an idle warning, but desperation had impelled
-him to make the fatal experiment of being at once
-General and Admiral in a contest with warriors
-so perfect as the French. Had he been reinforced
-in good time,--had the measures at home been
-directed by energy, or even by good faith
-merely---the events which so overclouded his later
-actions with a shade of shame might not have
-happened. From the moment when the French
-occupied the Fort St. Pré, the game was,
-however, virtually lost.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Meantime, Charles I., it is manifest from his
-letters to Lord Holland, was beginning to be seriously
-displeased with the negligence of the Commissariat
-Department. He was also desirous of
-impressing Lord Holland, not only with the great
-importance of the result of the expedition, but likewise
-of his anxiety for the safety of the Duke, “to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>whom,” the King writes, “whosoever does the
-best service is the most happy, be it for life
-or death.”<a id='r77' /><a href='#f77' class='c013'><sup>[77]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>So late as the latter end of October, Buckingham
-was resolved either to stay in the island if
-supplies came,--or, if they did not arrive, to put
-himself and the army into La Rochelle, and “run
-their fortune.”<a id='r78' /><a href='#f78' class='c013'><sup>[78]</sup></a> This was his last resolution. At
-one time he had fully determined on leaving, for
-some of his soldiers were barefooted: others were
-sick of the siege, and had neither bread, meat, nor
-beer; but the Duc de Soubise had re-assured him,
-and, promising eight hundred men from La Rochelle,
-had encouraged Buckingham to decide on
-scaling the Fort St. Martin.<a id='r79' /><a href='#f79' class='c013'><sup>[79]</sup></a> Meantime, Lord
-Holland did not appear: he was still at Plymouth.
-Contrary to the advice of the mariners, he had
-forced the whole fleet out of the Catwaters into
-Plymouth Sound; but it was driven back by the
-“cruellest storms” of twenty hours’ duration that
-had ever been known. Great damage was done:
-it was now necessary to stay to repair the crazy
-ships--the wind, as Lord Wilmot expressed it,
-“did so overblow.” The violence of the elements,
-and the knavery or indifference of man, seemed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>combined to keep back aid from the hungry soldiers
-in the Island of Rhé, and to ruin their general.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Perhaps the best, or, as many persons think,
-the only excuse for Buckingham in the step he
-eventually took, is contained in a touching letter
-from Sir Allen Apsley to “Honest Nicholas.”
-Apsley, described in one of the letters from the
-camp as “very sick and melancholy,” dates his
-letter “from his sick and lately senseless bed on
-board the Nonsuch.”<a id='r80' /><a href='#f80' class='c013'><sup>[80]</sup></a> “No man,” he begins by
-saying, “has he more cause more faithfully and
-more affectionately to love than Nicholas.” “His
-soul melts with tears to think that a State should
-send so many men, and no provision at all for
-them. But for Nicholas’s provision, through merchants,
-they had been miserably starved long since.”
-He then goes on to relate that “there were about
-five thousand seamen and four thousand landsmen
-in great distress for meat and drink. The army
-had already lost four thousand men, and all their
-commanders.”</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>A sort of responsive testimony to the Duke’s
-sufferings, and to the cruel neglect of the authorities
-at home, is conveyed in a letter from William,
-Earl of Exeter, to Buckingham. “What cannot
-be obtained by your courage,” writes the descendant
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>of the great Burleigh, “must in the end be
-submitted to your patience.” If the Duke “sowed
-onions, he would be sure of onions; if he sowed
-men, they are in danger, for the most part, to
-come up ingrates.” “The indolence,” he adds,
-“which his highness has cause to resent, is as
-great infidelity as is that of commission.” Then
-he cites examples of great generals, who, without
-loss of honour, abandoned enterprizes which
-could not be accomplished; what the Duke had
-already done was, he said, “miraculous.”<a id='r81' /><a href='#f81' class='c013'><sup>[81]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Neither did the Duke receive any encouragement
-to remain, even from one of his best friends,
-Sir George Goring, the faithful adherent in the
-great rebellion of Charles I.<a id='r82' /><a href='#f82' class='c013'><sup>[82]</sup></a> Goring had, in a
-former letter, represented to the Duke how futile
-would be any dependence on supplies; for the
-“City,” he wrote, “whence all present money
-must now be raised, is so infected by the malignant
-part of this kingdom, that no man will lend
-any money upon any security, if they think it
-will go the way of the Court, which is now made
-diverse from the State--such is the present distemper.”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>The King, it was said, might choose
-to break all his bonds, <a id='corr59.2'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='and'>“and</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_59.2'><ins class='correction' title='and'>“and</ins></a></span> then, when should
-they be paid?” Under these circumstances, Goring
-strongly advised the Duke to return home, and
-“to curb the insolence of the French some other
-way.”<a id='r83' /><a href='#f83' class='c013'><sup>[83]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>On the very day on which this letter was
-written, a newsletter, dated on board the Triumph,
-in the Road of Rhé, announced that the embarkation
-of the troops had already taken place.
-La Rochelle had by that time been completely
-blockaded by the French--too late it had declared
-for the English. For the safety of that city it
-was essential that Buckingham should remain;
-but, although he has been almost universally condemned
-for retiring, it is evident that the want
-of provisions, and the delay of reinforcements
-from England, extenuate, if they do not wholly
-justify, that step. He had now been expecting
-Lord Holland’s arrival for nearly a fortnight, and
-Lord Holland was still at Teignmouth--having
-been again driven back by contrary winds.<a id='r84' /><a href='#f84' class='c013'><sup>[84]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>During all this time, no words could describe
-all the distress of mind suffered by Buckingham
-better than those of his biographer and attached
-adherent, Sir Henry Wotton. “In his countenance,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>which is the part that all eyes interpret, no open
-alteration,” even after his reverses, could be detected,
-but the suppressed feelings were the more
-poignant for that disguise.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>“For certain it is,” adds Sir Henry, “that to
-his often-mentioned secretary, Dr. Mason, whom
-he had in pallet near him, for natural ventilation
-of all his thoughts, he broke out into passionate
-expressions of anguish, declaring, in the absence
-of all other ears and eyes, ‘that never his dispatches
-to divers princes, nor the great business
-of a fleet, of an army, of a siege, of a treaty, of
-war, of peace, both on foot together, and all of
-them in his head at a time, did not so much
-trouble his repose as a conceit that some at home,
-under His Majesty, of whom he had well deserved,
-were now content to forget <a id='corr60.17'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='him”'>him.’”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_60.17'><ins class='correction' title='him”'>him.’”</ins></a></span><a id='r85' /><a href='#f85' class='c013'><sup>[85]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Wotton partly ascribes the Duke’s failure to one
-cause--an improvident confidence, brought with
-him from a Court where fortune had never deceived
-him. Besides, he adds, “We must consider
-him yet but rude in the profession of arms,
-though greatly of honour, and zealous in the
-cause.”</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>By others he is considered to have committed
-an error in not having first attacked the Isle of
-Oléron, which was not only weakly garrisoned,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>but well supplied with wine and oil, and other
-provisions. But his great mistakes arose from
-his impulsive nature--a disposition often the concomitant
-of energy. Without waiting for the
-advice of Soubise, he had invested St. Martin’s;
-in marching to St. Martin’s, he had overlooked
-the Meadow Castle, as St. Pré was called by his
-soldiers; and that fort was now the chief impediment
-to his retreat.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Having been urged in vain by Soubise to
-remain, Buckingham aimed one last blow. He
-attempted to storm Fort St. Martin. He was
-perhaps incited to this rash and fruitless act by
-the taunting conduct of the besieged, who, knowing
-that he intended to starve them into submission,
-hung provisions on the walls. No breach
-was made, and the assault had no other result
-than the loss of soldiers. A retreat was then
-decided on. The forces could not now return by
-St. Pré, and a new route was to be taken. A
-causeway amid deep salt-marches was their only
-choice; and this causeway, or mound, was terminated
-by a bridge that joined to Rhé the second
-island of Vié. Here no fort to protect the
-bridge had been erected, and there was therefore
-no passage over to Vié. The French had all this
-time been close in pursuit. Buckingham was
-in the rear, and, as a contemporary observed, “had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>like to have been snapped,”<a id='r86' /><a href='#f86' class='c013'><sup>[86]</sup></a> if he had not ridden
-through the troops on the narrow causeway,
-where more than eight or ten could not ride
-abreast. It was not until the English had
-reached the Island of Vié that the French chose
-to attack them; then the delay of forming a
-bridge gave the pursuers time to make their onset
-with an advantage they could not have had on the
-causeway, where a handful of men might have set
-at defiance a host. The French drove the English
-horse on Sir Charles Birch’s regiment of
-foot, and both he and Sir John Radcliffe were
-killed. A hot skirmish ensued. “Our men,”
-says a newsletter, “spoiled one another, and
-more were drowned than slain. The Duke was
-the last man in the rear, and carried himself
-beyond expression bravely.”<a id='r87' /><a href='#f87' class='c013'><sup>[87]</sup></a> Ultimately the
-bridge was made good, and on the following day
-the embarkation of the crest-fallen English was
-safely effected. Buckingham was of course
-blamed by one faction, and excused by the other,
-for this failure. Denzil, afterwards Lord Holles,
-the great leader of the Presbyterian party, a
-man who, during his whole life, never changed
-sides, censured him in forcible terms, quoting the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>words of one whom he styles “a prophet of their
-own sides,” in saying that the enterprize was “ill
-begun, badly carried on, and the result accordingly
-most lamentable.” “It was a thousand to
-one,” Holles adds, “that all our ships had not been
-lost.” Ten days’ provision alone remained; when
-that was exhausted the Duke must have submitted
-to the enemy.<a id='r88' /><a href='#f88' class='c013'><sup>[88]</sup></a> No one disputed Buckingham’s
-courage; he brought back, as Hume
-expresses it, “the vulgar praise of courage and
-personal bravery.” He was justly, nevertheless,
-condemned for the risk he ran in the retreat;
-for, it was said, had the General been lost, what
-would have become of the troops, who had retreated
-in disorder?</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The letters in the State-Paper Office, to which
-reference has been made, though they do not
-refute the charge that the enterprize was “ill
-begun,” exonerate Buckingham, nevertheless,
-from much blame: he had every reason to expect
-reinforcements, for which he was continually
-begging; no Commander-in-Chief was ever left in
-a predicament more cruel; and he was justified
-in retiring by the certainty that provisions must
-soon fail, and the uncertainty of any fresh supply
-from the tardy and corrupt authorities at home.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The confusion in the retreat was stated to be
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>such that “no man,” Denzil Holles wrote, “can
-tell what was done, nor no account can be given
-how any man was lost--not the lieutenant-colonel
-how his colonel, nor lieutenant how his
-captain, which was a sign that things were ill
-carried.” “This every man alone knows--that
-since England was England, it received not so
-dishonourable a blow.”</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>The loss was indeed severe; thirty standards
-had been taken, but more lost; four colonels
-killed, and about two thousand of our men
-perished during the retreat.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'>On the tenth of November the fleet left Rhé,
-and on the twelfth it was seen in Portsmouth
-Roads, Buckingham’s ship, the Triumph, being
-distinguished. The Duke, however, who was returning
-home under such painful circumstances,
-was not in that vessel. As the fleet neared Plymouth,
-he quitted his ship, and, getting into a
-ketch, went into the port, in order to gather some
-account why the succours so long expected at
-St. Martin’s had never arrived. He had also
-another step to take--that of sending off an immediate
-despatch to the King, in order that His
-Majesty might be apprized by himself alone of
-the great loss and failure incurred in the attempt
-on Rhé. The messenger was sworn, on forfeiture
-of his head, to secrecy.<a id='r89' /><a href='#f89' class='c013'><sup>[89]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>“Charles received the news,” Conway wrote, in
-reply, “with the wisdom, courage, and constancy
-of a great king, and has declared so much kingly
-justice and goodness, with affection, to the Duke,
-as renders his grace, in the king’s judgment, and
-in the opinion of all those who heard him, clear
-from all imputation, and honoured by his actions:
-all guiltiness remaining upon this State for whatsoever
-fault or misconduct is come to that army.”
-Considering the delay in sending succour, the
-event was thought to have been better than could
-have been expected.<a id='r90' /><a href='#f90' class='c013'><sup>[90]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>A letter soon followed from Sir Edward Nicholas,
-informing the Duke that, six weeks ago, the state
-of provisions at Rhé was mentioned to the King
-and the Lords, “but was not credited.” He recommended
-his patron to do nothing until after
-his arrival in London: all things were at a stand,
-he says, until the Duke should give them “life
-and direction.” Secretary Conway, in a letter to
-his son, even “joyed” to find so few had been
-killed, and so little, “in point of honour,” lost,
-taking the greatest loss to be in the quality of some
-half dozen persons.<a id='r91' /><a href='#f91' class='c013'><sup>[91]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>Three days after the Duke had landed at Plymouth,
-the Duchess wrote to him:--</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span></div>
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My Lord</span>--Sence I hurd the newse of thy
-landing I have bine still every hower looking for
-you, that I cannot now till I see you sleepe in the
-nights, for every minite, if I do here any noyes, I
-think it is on from you, to tell me the happy
-newes what day I shall see you, for I confese I
-longe for it w<sup>th</sup> much imptience. I was in great
-hope that the bisnes you had to do at Portsmouth
-wood a bine don in a day, and then I
-should a seene you here to-morrow, but now I
-cannot tell when to expect you. My Lord, there
-has bine such ill reports made of the great lose
-you have had by the man that came furst, as your
-frends desiers you wood com to clere all w<sup>th</sup> all
-speede: you may leve some of the Lords there to
-se what you give order for don, and you need not
-stay yourself any longer:--this, beseeching you to
-com hether on Sunday or Munday w<sup>th</sup>out all fayle.
-I rest yours,</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“true loving and obedent wife,</div>
- <div class='line in16'>“<span class='sc'>K. Buckingham</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>"Mr. Maule desires you to com to the King,
-though you stay but on night, for they were never
-so busie as now.</p>
-
-<p class='c001'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham.”</span><a id='r92' /><a href='#f92' class='c013'><sup>[92]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c001'>Many were the welcomes offered to the Duke
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>on his return. Henry, Earl of Manchester,
-“hoped that God had preserved him to add to
-his honour;” and begged him not to be discouraged,
-for no captain nor general could play his part
-better; Sir James Bagge declared that the Duke
-was “dearer to him than children, wife, or
-life;” and Mr. Mohun and Sir Bernard Granville
-“will put down their lives and fortunes,” they
-wrote, “at the Duke’s feet.”<a id='r93' /><a href='#f93' class='c013'><sup>[93]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c001'>It seems, however,from the following letter--half
-reproachful, yet ever affectionate--that some time
-passed before the Duke saw his wife, and that
-even then he had thoughts of returning to Rhé:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c001'>"<span class='sc'>My dere Lord</span>--I was in great hope by on
-of your leters that I should a hade the happynes
-to a sene you this weeke, but sences I have not
-had it confirmed by any more, and in this I
-received by my lady’s mane I was in hope wood
-a tould me sartanly when I should a had the
-happnes to a sene you, but your leter not saying
-on worde makes me begine now to fere that you
-have but deceived me all this whill in giving me
-assurances that you deed not, and now I begine to
-be much greeved that you wood not a tould me
-the truth; but yet I cannot absolutly dispare, because
-I hope you will yett be as good as your word,
-for I confese, if you should go, I should not have
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>a stout hart. My Lord, these too cusens of yours
-desires you to accept of there servis, and lett
-them go w<sup>th</sup> you, for thay had rather venter ther
-lives w<sup>th</sup> you than stay behind, but I hope you
-will put them in some way for ther advancement,
-for thay deserve very well, and I hope will till
-the last. I am very well, I thanke God, and ever</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“your trewe loving and obedent wife,</div>
- <div class='line in21'>“<span class='sc'>K. Buckingham</span>.<a id='r94' /><a href='#f94' class='c013'><sup>[94]</sup></a></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='small'>“To the Duke of Buckingham.”</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is a terrible state when esteem and affection
-are opposed; for, in a woman’s heart the latter is
-sure to gain the ascendancy. Allowance must,
-however, be made for the Duke’s almost overwhelming
-occupations at this time, and for the
-harassed state of his mind, which prevented him
-writing to his wife.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Upon arriving in Plymouth, Buckingham, however,
-experienced a greater act of friendship than
-any mere welcome in words. The warmest and
-most estimable of his friends was Sir George
-Goring, one of those true-hearted Cavaliers of
-whom Englishmen of every party may be truly
-proud. To Goring the Duke left, in some
-measure, the care of his mother, when he sailed
-for La Rochelle. Goring’s blessings had followed
-the Duke on his voyage. “My dearest Lord,”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>are the terms in which Goring addressed him;
-and he showed that he was, as he himself
-wrote, faithful in every point to him for whom
-he professed friendship.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The incident which now occurred rests on the
-authority of Sir Henry Wotton, the long-trusted
-servant of James I., and the devoted adherent of
-Buckingham, by whose influence he had been
-made Provost of Eton.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Scarcely had Buckingham set off from Plymouth,
-on his way to London, than a messenger,
-sent in haste from Goring, warned him not to
-take the usual road, for that his friend had
-authentic information that a design upon his life
-would be attempted on his journey. The Duke
-received the letter when on horseback, and,
-crushing it into his pocket, without the slightest
-sign of apprehension, rode on. He was attended
-by seven or eight gentlemen only; and
-they were merely provided with the swords they
-usually wore, and had no other means of defence.
-There was one among them, however, who was
-personally bound to the Duke by ties of kindness
-and affection; this was his nephew, the
-young Lord Fielding, the son of that sister
-who had wept when she saw that the Duke
-was not at chapel with the King. The most
-cordial union, indeed, existed between all the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>members of the Villiers’ family; and they were
-bound by gratitude as well as by affection to the
-Duke.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The party rode on, when, about three miles
-from the town, they were stopped by an aged
-woman, who came out of a house on the road,
-and asked “whether the Duke were in the company?”
-Buckingham was pointed out to her;
-and she then, coming close up to his saddle,
-told him that in the very next town through
-which he was to pass she had heard some
-desperate men “vow his death;” she therefore
-advised him to take another road, which she offered
-to show him.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This circumstance, added to the warning letter
-sent by Goring, greatly impressed those around
-the Duke; and they entreated him to take the
-old woman’s advice. But whether from his usual
-recklessness of consequences, or from an idea
-that his showing fear would provoke taunts from
-his enemies, does not appear; the Duke obstinately
-refused to comply. And yet this “strange
-accident,” as Wotton calls it, was the more
-remarkable, as it was a sort of prelude to his
-fate, and in itself was of importance to a man
-whose unpopularity before he left England was
-now, at his return, tenfold more general than
-it had ever been during his career.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>As they were disputing, the Duke still resolute,
-his young nephew, Fielding, went up to
-him, and entreated him to honour him by giving
-him his coat and the blue ribbon of the Garter,
-that he might wear them through the town; and
-he urged his request by pleading that the Duke’s
-life, in which the welfare of the whole family
-was concerned, was the most “precious thing
-under Heaven.” He declared that he could so
-muffle himself up in the Duke’s hood, in the
-way his uncle was accustomed to do in cold
-weather, that no one could fail to be deceived--so
-that, attention being withdrawn, the Duke
-would be able to defend himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Duke caught the noble-spirited youth in his
-arms, and kissed him. “Yet,” he said, “he would
-not accept that offer from a nephew whose life
-he valued as he did his own;” then rewarding the
-poor woman for her good-will to him, he gave
-orders to his retinue how to act in case of
-attack, and rode calmly onwards.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Scarcely had he entered the town, when a half-drunken
-soldier caught hold of his bridle, as if
-he wanted to beg; instantly a gentleman of the
-Duke’s train, though at some distance, rode up,
-and, with a violent thrust, severed the man from
-the Duke, who, with the others, galloped quickly
-through the streets. Either from his usual indifference
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>to danger, or fearing, as Sir Henry
-Wotton says, to “resent discontentments too
-deep” to be allayed, no notice was taken of
-this incident of Buckingham’s journey to London,<a id='r95' /><a href='#f95' class='c013'><sup>[95]</sup></a>
-nor any inquiries made as to the projected
-assassination.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>On his return to Court, the king received him
-graciously; no change appeared in the outward
-demeanour of those who met him; but his horse
-regiment had been composed of the sons of the
-noblest families in the land, and smothered regrets
-for the loss of “such gallant gentlemen” were
-as prevalent amid the higher classes, as deep resentment
-was in the indignant and vehement
-lower orders of society.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“The effects of this overthrow,” Lord Clarendon
-observes, “did not at first appear in whispers,
-murmurs, and invectives, as the retreat
-from Cadiz had done; but produced such a
-general consternation over the face of the whole
-nation, as if all the armies of France and Spain
-were united together, and had covered the
-land.”<a id='r96' /><a href='#f96' class='c013'><sup>[96]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Charles was, however, resolved to see no fault in
-his favourite, to acknowledge no disgrace; with a
-confidence in the Duke that would have done honour
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>to a private friendship, he wrote to him, saying, that
-with “whatever ill success he came, he should ever
-be welcome--one of his greatest griefs being that
-he was not with him in that time of trial, as they
-might have much eased each other’s griefs.”
-Adding, that the Duke “had gained, in his mind,
-as much reputation as if he had performed all his
-desires.”<a id='r97' /><a href='#f97' class='c013'><sup>[97]</sup></a> The terms on which they stood towards
-each other were those of one young man
-towards another--his companion in pleasures and
-pursuits, his fellow-traveller, his confidant--not
-those existing between a sovereign and a trusted
-subject, amenable to public opinion.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The step which Buckingham took, on his
-arrival in London, was to ask immediately for a
-public audience with the King and Lords in
-Council. Then he plunged at once into the
-subject about which the country was in a
-ferment. He “delivered a clear account of the
-passages, descending even to the good and bold
-actions of private soldiers.” He extolled the
-patience of the army, and “the fair opportunity
-offered of turning their sufferings into glory, if
-their virtue had been seconded with the power
-and succours designed for it.” He named every
-officer in terms of great praise; and if both
-officers and men were sensible of “the honours
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>and obligations done them by the Duke, they
-would,” Conway wrote, “live with their swords,
-or die with them in their hand, to pay him that
-duty.” The King, also, put the “right interpretation
-on the Duke’s actions.” This open way of
-forestalling criticism, and, perhaps, impeachment,
-was certainly as sagacious as it was fearless.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Duke, before leaving the coast, had provided
-carefully for the soldiers who were sick and
-wounded, and amongst whom a fearful infectious
-disease prevailed, so that those in whose
-houses men were billeted died of the same
-malady. A storm soon damaged fifteen or sixteen
-of those fated ships which had returned
-from Rhé: and such was the poverty of the
-State, that, so late as the fifth of January, 1620,
-we find the sailors, who had deserved so much
-from their country, ill from want of clothes.<a id='r98' /><a href='#f98' class='c013'><sup>[98]</sup></a>
-There was no money for their pay, which was in
-arrears; there arose, of course, a mutinous spirit
-among them. The sailors were so destitute of clothing,
-that they would not do their duty in their
-ships, and many fell dead into the harbours. Still
-money could not be raised, although every possible
-expedient to obtain it was employed by the
-King. Among others who supplied him was Sir
-Francis Crane, Garter King-at-Arms, to whom
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>Charles gave certain royal manors for security, to
-the extent of seven thousand five hundred pounds.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Court was now both dull and partially deserted;
-the beautiful masques of Ben Jonson were
-no longer called into requisition: they had been
-discontinued since 1626, and were not resumed until
-two years after Buckingham had ceased to exist;
-and the only diversion specified for the Christmas
-festivity of this, his last Christmas, was “a running
-masque,” to be performed on a Sunday,
-hastily got up, and of no particular note.<a id='r99' /><a href='#f99' class='c013'><sup>[99]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Throughout the whole of the winter, the condition
-of the navy was the incessant theme of
-Buckingham’s various official correspondents.
-“Many of the men,” writes Sir Henry Mervyn,
-“for want of clothes, are so exposed to the
-weather, that their toes and feet miserably rot
-away piecemeal.” Yet a fresh expedition was,
-so early as the twelfth of January, in contemplation;
-and, hearing this, the French prisoners, to
-whom an allowance of eightpence a-day was
-given, refused to go back, as they said there
-would soon be a fleet fitted out for La Rochelle.
-Meanwhile news arrived of great naval preparations
-in France, and the sailing from Bordeaux
-of ships which were to be sunk in the Channel
-before La Rochelle.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>During all these troubles, and whilst a storm
-hovered over him, an heir was granted to the
-parents, who were anxious for the boon--and
-George, the second Duke of Buckingham, of the
-house of Villiers, was born. Owing to the death
-of his elder brother, Charles, when an infant, his
-birth was a source of great delight to the Duke
-and Duchess.<a id='r100' /><a href='#f100' class='c013'><sup>[100]</sup></a> And great need was there for all
-that could solace the days that were now numbered.
-All that had been brilliant in the career
-of Buckingham had faded into gloom; the
-country was justly irritated by the measures
-which he had recommended--the war, the impressment
-of seamen, the scheme for granting to
-the King the tonnage and poundage for the Customs
-during Charles’s life--were subjects which
-kept all classes--some from anger, some from
-fear--in continual agitation. The impressment
-of seamen had formerly been applied only to the
-lower classes; but they had been taught by the
-higher orders, who had felt the burden of oppression
-themselves, to understand their condition and
-their rights, and a determined spirit of resistance
-ensued; yet it must, in justice, before we draw our
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>conclusions, be remembered, that the Government
-was only indirectly responsible for the present
-shattered condition of the navy, and for the depth
-of misery into which the brave sailors had sunk.
-Generally, the great business of setting out ships
-had been charged on the port towns and neighbouring
-shires, but it was now too heavy a burden
-on them to bear. The Privy Council, therefore,
-cast up the whole charge of the fleet, which
-was prepared in February, 1628, and divided it
-among all the counties.<a id='r101' /><a href='#f101' class='c013'><sup>[101]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Neither does it appear that there was in the
-expenses of the navy, even during the time of
-war, any extravagance. The error was in the
-original neglect of the maritime forces, and injustice
-to a noble profession; the ruin incident
-to total indifference to its maintenance during the
-reign of James I. Had not Buckingham, in a few
-brief years, done much towards its renovation, the
-naval power would have been almost extinct.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst at Rochelle, he had placed the
-affairs of the navy in the hands of commissioners.
-On the 28th of February (1681) the Council
-called for these commissioners, and gave them
-“the King’s thanks for past services, letting them
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>know that it was his pleasure in these stirring
-times to use again the ancient offices of the
-Admiralty.”<a id='r102' /><a href='#f102' class='c013'><sup>[102]</sup></a> The commissioners, on retiring,
-gave in their certificates, signed by the Duke as
-Lord Admiral, of the expenses of the navy, both
-ordinary and extraordinary, in harbours, and the
-ordinary at sea, containing six ships and four
-pinnaces, for the year 1628. It amounted to
-forty thousand, eight hundred, and seventy-six
-pounds, fourteen shillings and fourpence<a id='r103' /><a href='#f103' class='c013'><sup>[103]</sup></a>--the
-rest of the fleet being supplied by merchants, and
-paid by local contributions. But the country
-was little disposed to view any point with leniency.
-Their grievances were, indeed, almost
-daily increasing; and whilst the landholders
-were impoverished, the loss of all commerce
-between England and France completely alienated
-the mercantile community from the Court.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>A Parliament was summoned. During the
-preceding year the Duchess of Buckingham had
-apprehended great danger to the Duke in allowing
-the commission of inquiry into the affairs of
-the navy to drop; and had expressed her fears that
-the abuses brought to light, and unremedied,
-might hereafter be laid on the Duke.<a id='r104' /><a href='#f104' class='c013'><sup>[104]</sup></a> There had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>been no time then, in the hurry of the ill-starred
-expedition to Rochelle, to complete that inquiry;
-but the Duchess’s fears were indeed realized,
-when, after the Petition of Right had been
-passed by both Houses, the King went to the
-House of Lords, sent for the Commons, and then,
-in his chair of state, and when the Petition had
-been read to him, instead of giving his consent to
-the bill in the concise form in which the monarch,
-in Norman French, declares that “Le Roy le
-veult,” delivered an evasive answer, promising
-much, but signifying nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The indignation of the House of Commons
-first descended on the head of Mainwaring, afterwards
-Bishop of St. Asaph, who had preached, by
-the King’s order, a sermon containing doctrines subversive
-of liberty. Mainwaring, although he had
-acted under royal authority, had been fined a thousand
-pounds, imprisoned, and suspended during
-three years.<a id='r105' /><a href='#f105' class='c013'><sup>[105]</sup></a> After he had been sentenced, the
-House proceeded to pass “strong condemnation on
-Buckingham,” whose name had hitherto not been
-mentioned. It must have been a singular scene,
-when, on the fifth of June, the House being assembled,
-a message was delivered to them from
-the King, announcing that, as he meant to prorogue
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>Parliament in six days, he desired that no
-new business, which might consume time, nor lay
-any aspersion on His Majesty’s ministers, should
-be commenced. A deep dejection was observed
-on all faces; but when Sir John Eliot, the most
-impassioned speaker of that period of earnest and
-eloquent men, rose, and was about to denounce
-Buckingham as the author of all the national misfortunes,
-he was stopped by Sir John Finch,
-the speaker, who, rising from his chair, his eyes
-full of tears, told the House that he had been
-commanded to interrupt every member who laid
-aspersions on any minister of <a id='corr80.13'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='start'>state.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_80.13'><ins class='correction' title='start'>state.</ins></a></span> A profound and
-melancholy silence succeeded; then, after several
-members had broken it, by resuming the debate,
-it was strange again to hear that voice which had
-never deceived his fellow-subjects, and to behold
-Sir Edward Coke rise, and remind them of
-former parliamentary impeachments, and tell
-them that it was their province to regulate prerogative
-and correct abuses; and he added, “If
-they flattered man, God would never prosper
-them.” Then the name fell from his lips that
-none since the King’s message had dared to
-utter: he denounced Buckingham; he called him
-the grievance of grievances; and, setting at
-nought the royal mandate, declared, that till the
-King were informed of that truth, the Commons
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>could neither continue together, “nor depart
-with honour.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Thus the fears of the poor Duchess of Buckingham
-were finally and fully realized. One
-member imputed to the Duke the ruin of the
-shipping, in the restoration of which he had so
-incessantly laboured. The faults of others were
-thus laid on him. Another stated that there were
-Papists in every branch of the public service. The
-intolerant fierceness of Puritanical opinions, on
-this occasion, blazed out. Selden proposed a declaration
-of grievances, and suggested that, though
-a mantle had been thrown over the charge against
-the Duke in the last Parliament, it ought to be
-resumed, and judgment demanded. Whilst the
-question was being put, on this motion, whether
-the Duke should be named as the primary cause
-of grievances, the Speaker begged leave to retire
-for a few minutes, and soon returned with a message
-from the King to adjourn.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The consternation at the Court must have been
-extreme; for Charles now retraced his former
-steps; again went to the House, and, giving his
-consent to the Petition of Right, in the usual
-form since the Norman Conquest, “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>Soit droit
-fait comme il est desiré</em></span>,” was received with loud
-acclamations. His popularity did not, however,
-last very long. He took this opportunity to commit
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>an act which was both dangerous to himself
-and to his friend. When, by the dissolution of a
-former parliament, the impeachment of the Duke
-had been stopped, Charles, to save appearances,
-ordered an information against him to
-be filed in the Star Chamber. He now ordered
-this information to be taken off the file; thus
-insulting the Commons, who had named Buckingham
-as the “grievance of grievances.”<a id='r106' /><a href='#f106' class='c013'><sup>[106]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It may easily be imagined how deeply chagrined
-Buckingham must have been during these
-proceedings. Among the common people his name
-was held in still greater detestation than even by
-his parliamentary opponents.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was during this session that Sir Thomas
-Wentworth, recently created Viscount Strafford,
-distinguished himself by his eloquence, which
-he exerted in support of Buckingham, thus abandoning
-his former show of patriotism, in the
-fervour of which he had denounced the Council
-of State.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“They have taken from us,” he exclaimed--“what
-shall I say?--indeed, what have they
-left us? They have taken from us all means of
-supplying the King, and ingratiating ourselves
-with them, by tearing up the roots of all property.”<a id='r107' /><a href='#f107' class='c013'><sup>[107]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>In the midst of this declaration the Presidentship
-of the County of York was deemed likely
-to be vacated, owing to the illness of Lord
-Scrope, who then held it; and Wentworth had
-not scrupled to solicit the promise of it in the following
-terms of abject flattery to Buckingham.
-The letter is addressed to Lord Conway:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<div class='c014'><span class='small'>“Wentworth, this 20th of January, 1625.</span></div>
-
-<p class='c019'>“<span class='sc'>My much honored Lord</span>,--The duties of
-the place I now hold not admitting my absence
-out of these parts, I shall be bold to trouble your
-lordship with a few lines, whereas otherwise I
-would have attended you in person. There is a
-strong and general beleaf with us here that my
-Lord Scrope purposeth to leave the Presidentshippe
-of York; whereupon many of my friends
-have earnestly moved me to use some means to
-procure it, and I have at last yielded to take it a
-little into consideration, more to comply with them
-than out of any violent inordinate desire thereunto
-in myself. Yett, as on the one side I have
-never thought of it unless it might be effected,
-w<sup>th</sup> the good liking of my Lord Scrope, soe will
-I never move further in it till I know also how
-this may please my Lord of Buckingham, seeing,
-indeed, such a seale of his gracious good opinion
-would comfort me much, make the place more acceptable;
-and that I am fully resolved not to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>ascende one steppe in this kind except I may take
-along with me by the way a special obligation to
-my Lord Duke, from whose bountye and goodness
-I doe not only acknowledge much allready,
-but, justified in the truth of my own hartte, doe
-still repose and rest under the shadow and protection
-of his favour. I beseach y’r Lorp., therefore,
-be pleased to take some good opportunity
-fully to acquaint his Grace hearunto, and then to
-vouchsafe, with y’r accustomed freedom and nobleness,
-to give me your counsel and direction, wh.
-I am prepared strictly to observe, as one albeit
-chearfully embracing better means to doe his
-Majesty humble and faithful service in the parttes
-whear I live, yet can w<sup>th</sup> as well contented a
-mind, rest wher I am, if by reason of my manie
-imperfections I shall not be judged capable of
-neuer appointment or trust. There is nothing
-more to add for the present save that I must
-rest much bounden unto y’r Lorp. for the light
-I shall borrow from y’r judgement and affection
-hearin and soe borrow it too, as may better enable
-me more effectually to express myself hereafter.--Y’r
-Lorp. most humble and affec<sup>ate</sup> kinsman to
-be commanded,</p>
-<div class='c014'><span class='sc'>T. Wentworth</span>.</div>
-<p class='c020'><span class='small'>To the Right Honble. my much honored Lord the Lorde
-Conway, Principall Secretary to his Majestie.”</span><a id='r108' /><a href='#f108' class='c013'><sup>[108]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>This favour being granted, and Sir Thomas
-having been created a Viscount, he appeared in
-the upper house as an advocate for the ministers
-whom he had, only a few months previously, denounced;
-but the adherence of Strafford was of
-little benefit to Buckingham, as his new ally was
-the most unpopular of men. One unhappy result,
-however, this unprincipled alliance produced.
-The new partisan ingratiated himself with Charles
-during his late and brief support of Buckingham;
-and the seeds were laid of that influence which so
-tended to undermine the future stability of the
-Crown, and pioneered the way to Charles’s fall.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The most unjust aspersions were now circulated
-throughout all society. It was Buckingham’s
-custom to cast away, as unworthy of consideration,
-all reports that were brought to him.
-On one occasion, hearing that two Colonels, when
-before St. Martin’s Fort, had said to a third that
-they observed the Duke often go in his barge to the
-fleet, and that they believed he would steal away to
-England some day; and that if he did, they swore
-they would hand out the white flag, and deliver
-up the town and island to Tonar, the Governor;
-the Duke called a council of war, the accused
-being absent, and charged these gentlemen with
-their words. They flatly denied them on their
-swords. The Duke, without further inquiry, believed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>them, and dismissed the court. Nor did
-he ever pay any attention to things said about
-him, either in the Commons or in the camp.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In the same way he appears to have treated
-James Howell, who, presuming on having been
-in his service, and on the affabilities of the Duke,
-and a facility of character which had its advantages
-as well as disadvantages, wrote an impertinent
-letter, saying, that in his “shallow apprehension”
-it might be well for the Duke to
-part with some of his places, and so to avoid
-opprobrium. “Your Grace,” he remarked, “might
-stand more firm without an anchor.” Then he
-next threw out some suggestions as to the better
-regulation of the Duke’s family and private
-affairs; and ended by saying that he knew the
-Duke did not, nor need not, affect popularity.
-“The people’s love,” he added, “is the strongest
-citadel of a sovereign prince, but wrath often
-proved fatal to a subject, for he who pulleth off
-his hat to the people giveth his head to the
-prince.” And he ends by referring to “a late
-unfortunate Earl,” who, a little before Queen
-Elizabeth’s death, had drawn the axe across his
-own neck; he had become so unpopular, that
-he was considered dangerous to the State. This
-very unpleasant reference was taken, at all events,
-amicably by Buckingham. The fate of Essex
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>was often supposed to shadow forth his own;
-and the rapid rise, the more rapid fall, the
-generous, careless nature, the very early doom
-of both, to have suggested that parallel between
-the Earl of Essex and Buckingham, in which
-Lord Clarendon has placed the characters of
-both before the reader in delicate touches.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In one respect they were very different. Essex,
-when attacked, even before going to Ireland,
-wrote an apology, which he dispersed with his
-own hands. Buckingham left his fame to his
-contemporaries, and to posterity, just as they
-choose to view it. On an offer once being made
-to him to write a justification of his actions, he
-refused it, says Lord <a id='corr87.15'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Clarenden'>Clarendon</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_87.15'><ins class='correction' title='Clarenden'>Clarendon</ins></a></span>, “with a pretty
-kind of thankful scorn, saying that he would trust
-to his own good intentions, which God knew,
-and trust to Him for the pardon of his <a id='corr87.18'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='errors;'>errors;”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_87.18'><ins class='correction' title='errors;'>errors;”</ins></a></span>
-that he saw no “fruit of apologies but the multiplying
-of discourse, which, surely,” even Lord
-<a id='corr87.21'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Clarenden'>Clarendon</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_87.21'><ins class='correction' title='Clarenden'>Clarendon</ins></a></span> observes, “was a well-settled matter.”<a id='r109' /><a href='#f109' class='c013'><sup>[109]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But there were dangers lurking in his path
-which no defence could avert. Personal danger
-did not appal him. Slander did not affect him.
-Yet a forgotten, morbid, disappointed man was
-the instrument of destiny; and even in this crisis
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>Buckingham seems never to have shrunk from
-the assassins, even in imagination: he knew that
-he had already escaped great perils--and that
-consciousness gave him security.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c021'>FELTON--HIS CHARACTER--UNCERTAINTY OF HIS MOTIVES--CIRCUMSTANCES UNDER WHICH HE WAS BROUGHT INTO CONTACT WITH BUCKINGHAM--MOTIVES OF HIS CRIME DISCUSSED--THE REMONSTRANCE--THE FATE OF LA ROCHELLE--BUCKINGHAM’S UNPOPULARITY--RETURNS TO RHE--MISGIVINGS OF HIS FRIENDS--INTERVIEW WITH LAUD--WITH CHARLES I.--HIS FAREWELL--HE ENTERS PORTSMOUTH--FELTON--THE ASSASSINATION--ORIGINAL LETTERS FROM SIR D. CARLETON AND SIR CHARLES MORGAN--THE KING’S GRIEF.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span><span class='large'>CHAPTER III.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c022'>Whilst all these events were pending, dark
-designs were being formed and cherished in the
-distempered mind of one far from the Court, and
-probably wholly forgotten by him to whose
-destiny he gave the final stroke.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Hitherto Buckingham had escaped all bodily
-harm. He had rallied speedily from illness, and
-was in the full vigour of his life; he had returned
-unhurt from the perilous service at Rhé; he had
-repeatedly crossed the Channel, and tracked even
-the great ocean when the science of navigation,
-as well as of ship-building, was imperfect, and
-when a thousand dangers encompassed his course:
-he had escaped the pestilence by which the army
-lost many of its best men. And yet his days
-were numbered.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>In the remote county of Suffolk the unhappy
-John Felton was born. He was the youngest
-son of an ancient family, and in somewhat narrow
-circumstances, and had been a lieutenant in a
-regiment of foot, under the command of Sir John
-Ramsey, in the expedition against Rhé. He was
-a man of great reserve, which, though he had long
-led a soldier’s life, in the course of which he appears
-to have risen from the ranks, was still silent
-and gloomy. In person he was diminutive, with a
-meagre form, and a face rendered almost ghastly
-from the expression of that deep, habitual, and
-apparently <a id='corr92.13'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='cau eless'>causeless</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_92.13'><ins class='correction' title='cau eless'>causeless</ins></a></span> melancholy to which we
-give the term morbid; and thus singularly did
-these outlines of his character correspond with
-the circumstances of his daily life. So strange
-was it to discover in the young soldier the characteristics
-attributable to a cloister rather than
-to a camp, that one turns to the mournful plea of
-insanity for explanation. But no defence of that
-nature, or on that ground, was ever attempted
-for Felton; unhappily, so much has lunacy increased
-in modern times, that it forms now one
-point in almost every case of unaccountable
-crime. In the days of our ancestors it was
-different. Such an excuse was rare, and only
-applied to imbecility, or to mania, when too
-apparent to be disputed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>To this day, indeed, there has been found no
-adequate motive for the deed, which Felton long
-contemplated in the depths of a soul that never
-gave utterance to its joys or sorrows, and exchanged
-no sympathies with others. Whatever
-“may have been the immediate or greatest motive
-of that felonious conception,” Sir Henry Wotton
-declares, “is even yet in the clouds.”<a id='r110' /><a href='#f110' class='c013'><sup>[110]</sup></a> The
-origin of that dark design has, nevertheless, been
-referred to a disappointment in Felton’s military
-career. This he subsequently denied, by saying
-that the Duke had always shown him respect.
-Whilst at Rhé, Felton’s captain having died in
-England, he naturally applied to Buckingham for
-promotion. The Duke, however, consulted the
-colonel of the regiment, and, by his suggestion,
-gave the company to an officer named Powell,
-who happened to be lieutenant of the colonel’s
-company, and a man of great bravery; and
-Felton himself acknowledged the justice and expediency
-of this preference of Powell to himself.
-So that, to follow the same authority, the idea
-of any rancour being harboured, owing to this
-arrangement, can have no foundation.<a id='r111' /><a href='#f111' class='c013'><sup>[111]</sup></a> But the
-notion has been taken up by historians adverse to
-Buckingham--and such are in the majority--rather
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>to heighten the impression that he suffered
-for an act of injustice, for which his death
-was, more or less, a retribution, than from any
-certain conviction on the point.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There was also another cause assigned for the
-crime which Felton meditated. In his native
-county there was a certain knight whom the
-Duke had latterly favoured; and between this
-individual and Felton there “had been ancient
-quarrels not yet healed,” which might be festering
-within his breast, and worked up by his own
-grievance into frenzy. But this explanation is
-also rejected by Sir Henry Wotton, whose evidence
-is the best that can be given, as proceeding
-from a man of principle, and a contemporary and
-friend of Buckingham’s.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Three hours before his execution, however,
-Felton, either as a palliation to others, or to excuse
-the deed to himself, alleged that the
-book written by Dr. Egglisham, King James’s
-Scottish physician, in which the Duke was portrayed
-as one of the foulest monsters upon earth,
-unfit to live in a Christian court, or even within
-the pale of humanity, had a great effect upon
-his mind, in inciting him to what he deemed an
-act of heroic virtue. The fact, indeed, it is plain,
-was, that his religious convictions had an all-powerful
-influence upon his judgment, which was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>warped by the gloomy bigotry which casts a
-shadow over the noblest and most encouraging
-hopes of the Christian. The tenor of this unhappy
-man’s life had been marked by seriousness
-and religious observances; but it was the religion
-which condemned all who differed--the religion,
-not of love, but self-righteousness and hatred.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>During the leisure of peace--if peace that can
-be called in which all the elements of civil war
-were being engendered--the Petition of Right--that
-great measure, which even Clarendon allows,
-"was of no prejudice to the Crown"--received
-the King’s assent. Not contented with what
-they found might prove a bare declaration of the
-law, the Commons drew up a Remonstrance,
-addressed to the King, in order that the too
-great power of Buckingham might be diminished.
-The promotion of Papists, the protection of
-Arminians, under the patronage of Neal and
-Laud, were the chief subjects, and were calculated
-to arouse and inflame the passions of a fanatic,
-like Felton, and to have suggested the reasoning
-that was soon warped, by prejudice and hatred,
-into the form and conception of guilt. There
-were other subjects of complaint in that celebrated
-Remonstrance, which touched him also--the standing
-commission of general continued to Buckingham
-in time of peace, the dismissal of faithful
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>officers from various places of trust, the failures at
-Cadiz and at Rhé--these were but a small part of
-that important document, but they were the portion
-most likely to excite such a mind as that of
-Felton. He stated, indeed, that the idea of
-assassination, which he had repelled by stern
-efforts of conscience--for he was a man misled
-and mistaken, but not devoid of certain principles,
-and he dared to make use of that solemn and
-misguiding word, conscience--was revived, with
-irresistible force, by the Remonstrance. Never,
-hitherto, had the members most distinguished for
-oratory in parliament reasoned with so much
-force, and so much research, and so great a depth
-of legal argument, as on the Petition of Right,
-and its successor, the Remonstrance. It was the
-era of good taste and profound argument in that
-great assembly.<a id='r112' /><a href='#f112' class='c013'><sup>[112]</sup></a> All tended to strengthen Felton
-in the conviction that the Duke was a traitor and
-oppressor, whom any patriot would do well to
-assassinate.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Then he read works which maintained the lawfulness
-of ridding a nation of an oppressor; and
-the voice of conscience was heard no more--a
-false heroism was thenceforth the spectre that
-lured him onwards. Never was there a more
-striking instance of the influence of one mind
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>over another than that which the books of the day
-had over the mind of Felton; never was there a
-more prominent exemplification of the responsibilities
-of a writer, even if his words chance to have
-only an ephemeral reputation, than this man’s crime.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The resolution was then formed--Buckingham’s
-life was to be sacrificed for the public good. Sir
-Henry Wotton seems to think that every plea
-adopted by Felton in explanation of this design
-was to be distrusted. “Whatever were the
-true motives, which, I think, none can determine
-but the Prince of Darkness itself, he did
-thus prosecute the effort.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He bought for tenpence, in a cutler’s shop on
-Tower Hill, a knife--that instrument, the blow
-of which paralyzed England--and sewed the
-sheath into the lining of his pocket, so that he could
-at any time draw out the knife with one hand--his
-other being maimed and powerless.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Being thus provided, he watched in gloom and
-privacy (for he was very poor) the opportunity
-over which he brooded.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Meantime, Buckingham was mingling, in the
-full confidence of his fearless nature, in the affairs
-of that world which he was so soon to quit for
-ever. His unpopularity was at its acmé, and if
-he feared not for himself, there were friends who
-trembled for his safety. Sir Clement Throgmorton,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>a man of great consideration and judgment,
-one day asked a private conference, and advised
-the Duke to wear a coat of mail underneath his
-his outer garment. The Duke received the suggestion
-very kindly, but gave this reply,
-“Against popular fury a coat of mail would be
-but a weak defence, and with regard to an attack
-from any single man, he conceived there was no
-danger.” "So dark," says Wotton, “is destiny.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This consciousness of being the object of universal
-hatred probably increased the keen desire
-which now possessed the Duke’s mind of retrieving
-the discredit into which his failure had
-plunged him. During the whole of the spring,
-preparations for a fresh descent on La Rochelle
-had been in contemplation. As good a squadron
-as that which Admiral Pennington had previously
-commanded was ready at Plymouth by the end
-of February, ten ships having been pressed into
-the service. Several new vessels were built, notwithstanding
-that the workmen of the navy at
-Chatham complained that they had not received
-any pay for seven months. Buckingham was,
-at one time, on the point of visiting Plymouth,
-but went to Newmarket instead.<a id='r113' /><a href='#f113' class='c013'><sup>[113]</sup></a> During the
-session of Parliament his brother-in-law, the Earl
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>of Denbigh, was dispatched with a fleet to the
-relief of La Rochelle, which was blockaded by
-the French, but he returned without even attempting
-to effect anything; and the unfortunate
-town was left to its fate. Richelieu, besieging
-it by circumvallations, constructed a mole
-across the mouth of the harbour, leaving room
-only for the ebb and flow of the sea; and
-destruction seemed inevitable. It was, therefore,
-a very probable means of recovering his credit
-at home, for the Duke again to attempt the relief
-of those who, as Protestants, represented a cause
-dear to English hearts. Independently of this, it
-is not unlikely that old rivalship with the sagacious
-Cardinal may have influenced Buckingham
-to undertake a second expedition to La Rochelle.<a id='r114' /><a href='#f114' class='c013'><sup>[114]</sup></a>
-It is, perhaps, not to be wondered at that Buckingham’s
-name should be covered with so much opprobrium
-after his death, when the fate of the heroes
-who defended La Rochelle is remembered. In the
-October of the year in which the Duke perished,
-La Rochelle, long refusing to yield, was forced
-to submit. The inhabitants surrendered at discretion--even
-with an English fleet, commanded
-by Lord Sidney, in sight. Of fifteen thousand
-men who had been enclosed in the town, only
-four thousand survived famine and fatigue, to lay
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>down their arms before the generals sent by
-Richelieu.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>To make a last effort for these valiant sufferers
-was, therefore, the wisest determination that
-Buckingham could form. The fleet which Lord
-Denbigh had commanded was in good condition,
-and all at home had learned experience through
-failure. He had taken that severe lesson to his
-own heart. Had Buckingham been spared to
-relieve La Rochelle, and to recover for England the
-honour of her sullied reputation, his errors would
-doubtless have been forgiven.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Before leaving London, the Duke went to take
-leave of Laud, then Bishop of London. Laud
-had now, both in civil and ecclesiastical matters,
-a great influence over the King: of this Buckingham
-was fully sensible.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Sir Henry Wotton, who had made some inquiries
-whether the Duke had had any presentiment
-of his death, relates a touching scene between
-the Duke and Laud.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“My Lord,” Buckingham said, “you have, I
-know, very free access to the King, our sovereign;
-let me pray you to remind his Majesty to be good
-to my poor wife and children.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>At these words, or perhaps rather on looking
-at the expression of countenance with which they
-were uttered, the Bishop, with some uneasiness,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>asked the Duke whether he had any forebodings
-in his mind which he did not like to betray?</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“No,” replied the Duke; “but I think some
-adventure may kill me as much as any other
-man,”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The day before he was assassinated, the Duke
-being ill, Charles the First visited him whilst he
-was in bed. After a long and serious conversation
-in private, they separated, Buckingham embracing
-the King “in a very unusual and passionate
-manner;” and he also showed great emotion on
-taking leave of Lord Holland, “as if his soul
-had divined he should see them no more.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The twentieth of August was his birthday. He
-had completed his thirty-sixth year--that
-period which has been marked by a great writer
-as the departure of youth<a id='r115' /><a href='#f115' class='c013'><sup>[115]</sup></a>--it might have been,
-perhaps, in Buckingham’s case, the beginning of
-wisdom extracted from experience.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was the age of omens and other superstitious
-weaknesses; and supernatural warnings were not
-wanting to heighten the effect of the tragedy that
-was soon to be acted. Neither did they who foreboded
-evil to the Duke wait until after the event
-to bring forth their ghostly revelations. One day,
-some little time before the Duke’s death, he was
-playing at bowls with the King in Spring Gardens.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>Buckingham, as he usually did,even in Charles’s presence,
-kept his hat on, a piece of presumption which
-irritated a Scotsman named Wilson, who, in his
-wrath, tossed off the Duke’s hat, and declared he
-would punish impertinence wherever he met it in
-the same way. On looking round for this man, he
-had vanished, and was nowhere to be found. The
-courtiers marvelled at the incident, and regarded
-it as ominous of the Duke’s fate; but he laughed
-at them for their folly, and showed no fear.<a id='r116' /><a href='#f116' class='c013'><sup>[116]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His indifference was regarded as infatuation;
-in fact, it proves that the Duke was, in some
-respects, superior to those whom he most respected.
-There was no lone spinster in the
-country more given to believe in dreams and
-omens than Laud; and his diary contains perpetual
-references to his dreams. Every slight incident
-had its peculiar meaning, foreshadowing some
-great event. Nor does Lord Clarendon rise
-above the tone of the times, in his relation of that
-famous ghost story which forms one of the most
-prominent incidents of Buckingham’s latest days.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Old Sir George Villiers had now been dead
-eighteen years, and perhaps few of his family,
-and certainly not his wife, who had been
-twice married, ever wished to see him again.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>There was a certain Mr. Nicholas Towse, however,
-living in Bishopsgate Without, London, to
-whom the aged knight appeared in the spirit,
-during the year 1627, making choice of that individual
-as the depositary of secrets beyond the
-grave, because he had known him whilst he was a
-boy at school in Leicestershire, near Brookesby.
-As a mark of friendship, therefore, the apparition
-of Sir George favoured Mr. Towse with his revelations,
-and stood one night at the foot of his
-bed, dressed in the costume of the time of Elizabeth.
-There was a candle in the room, and Mr.
-Towse was perfectly wakeful. On beholding Sir
-George, he uttered, according to his own account,
-the natural inquiry, “What he was, and whether
-he was a man?” To which the apparition answered,
-“No.” Then Towse, in considerable
-emotion, asked, “Was he a devil?” To which
-the apparition still answered, “No.” Then Mr.
-Towse, with increasing agitation, said, “In the
-name of God, tell me what you are?”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"I am," replied the spectre, in doublet and
-hose, “the spectre of Sir George Villiers, the
-father of the Duke of Buckingham;” adding, that
-because he believed Mr. Towse loved him, and
-was sensible of the former kindness that he had
-shown him, he had selected him as the bearer of a
-message to the Duke of Buckingham, warning
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>him in such a manner as to prevent much mischief
-and present ruin to the Duke.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst the apparition was speaking, Towse became
-more and more convinced of his identity, and
-more fully conscious that the long defunct master of
-a noble house stood before him; nevertheless, he
-refused to do Sir George’s bidding, saying that it
-would bring ridicule on him to carry to the Duke
-such a message. But the ghost earnestly entreated
-him to comply, assuring him, after the manner of
-ghosts, that there were certain passages in the
-Duke’s life known only to himself and his son,
-and that the revelation of these would plainly
-show the Duke it was no “distempered fancy,
-but a reality, that he wished to disclose.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>That night was one of irresolution, if not of incredulity;
-but, on the next, the unhappy Towse,
-thus picked out for so ghostly a service, promised
-to go to the Duke. He went, indeed, and found out
-Sir Thomas Freeman and Sir Ralph Bladden,
-the Duke’s chamberlains, by whom he was presented
-to the Duke. Then followed some private
-and agitated interviews between Buckingham
-and Towse, and the cautions of the ghost
-were fully and forcibly communicated: they related
-chiefly to Buckingham’s patronage of Laud,
-and suggested some popular acts which the Duke
-was to perform in Parliament--and, in short, contained
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>advice that any reasonable man might
-have offered. But nothing that was said by Mr.
-Towse made the slightest impression on the
-Duke, except, when certain passages of his life
-were referred to, with which the ghost had
-primed Mr. Towse, he owned he had believed
-“that no living creature knew of them but himself,
-and that it must be either God or the devil
-that had revealed them.” The Duke then offered
-to get Mr. Towse knighted, and to have him
-made a burgess in the forthcoming Parliament.
-But Mr. Towse, finding that the obstinate
-favourite was deaf to his advice, left him, prognosticating
-that the Duke’s death would happen
-at a certain time--which prognostic was fulfilled.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Mr. Towse then returned to Bishopsgate Without;
-and, there is much reason to believe, laboured
-under mental malady; for the visits of the apparition
-were now so frequent that he grew familiar
-with him, “as if it had been a friend or acquaintance
-that had come to visit him.” And from
-this very unpleasant guest Towse learned to see
-in perspective many events that had not then
-dawned on England; more especially the troubles
-of Prynne, who was Towse’s father-in-law--which
-was contrary to all rule, as a ghost should keep to
-one subject. On the day of Buckingham’s death,
-also, Mr. Towse and his wife being at Windsor
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>Castle, where Towse had an office, they were
-sitting in company, when he started up, exclaiming,
-“The Duke of Buckingham is slain!” At
-the very moment that these words were uttered
-the blow had been given. Towse dying soon
-after, also foretold his own death.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This narrative, thought worthy of insertion by
-Clarendon, and therefore not to be completely
-disregarded in any biography of Buckingham,
-is taken, however, from a letter penned at
-Boulogne, by one Edmund Wyndham, in 1672,
-twenty years after the event.<a id='r117' /><a href='#f117' class='c013'><sup>[117]</sup></a><a id='r118' /><a href='#f118' class='c013'><sup>[118]</sup></a> According to
-Lord Clarendon, Buckingham, after hearing
-Towse’s revelation, was observed ever afterwards
-to be very melancholy. That he had misgivings
-as to his return, we have seen; but there are few
-men so insensible, at such a moment, as to be
-quite free from presentiment of evil--more especially
-one on whom the eyes of the country
-were directed in resentment, and regarding
-whom the Commons was then preparing a Remonstrance.<a id='r119' /><a href='#f119' class='c013'><sup>[119]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Felton, meantime, was intent on pursuing his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>scheme. The frank and kindly manner of the
-Duke towards his officers and soldiers at Rhé,
-his personal courage, and his participation in the
-hardships all had undergone in that expedition, had
-failed to propitiate the assassin, who was, in fact,
-stimulated by the fiercest of all incentives--political
-hatred, justified by the plea of religion.
-He set off, therefore, to Portsmouth, and, partly
-on horseback, and partly on foot, accomplished
-that journey; and perhaps the desperate state of
-his fortunes added to his gloomy views and
-reckless designs, into which one thought of self-preservation
-never entered. At a few miles from
-Portsmouth he was seen sharpening the fatal knife
-on a stone; he arrived at that city with the determination
-that, should his scheme of assassination
-fail for want of opportunity, he would enlist as
-a volunteer, in order to accomplish it eventually.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There was, of course, considerable bustle in the
-town; and on entering it, when the ghastly
-murderer stood unobserved amongst the crowd,
-there was too numerous a train about the Duke
-for Felton to reach him. Fearful of observation, he
-kept himself indoors one morning after his arrival;
-but, on the ensuing day, repaired to the house
-where Buckingham was staying. The Duke was
-at that time at breakfast, and little attention was
-paid by a number of suitors and applicants who
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>were waiting for him in the antechamber, to the
-diminutive being who was watching, with his
-dark purpose, among the unconscious crowd.
-As there were several military men, amongst
-whom was the Duc de Soubise, with Buckingham,
-as well as Sir Thomas Fryer, much animation
-pervaded the conversation, in consequence of
-a report having reached Portsmouth that La
-Rochelle had been relieved. Soubise and his followers
-believed that this report was set on foot by
-some agents of the French, in order to induce the
-English to relax in their preparations, until the
-mole, which it was Richelieu’s plan to form at the
-mouth of the harbour, should be completed. He
-and the other foreigners spoke with vehemence,
-and in tones which the English, who were listening,
-deemed to be those of anger. The Duke, it
-appeared, was inclined to believe the report, and
-the eagerness of Soubise was not, therefore, to be
-matter of surprise, since his interests, and those
-of his adherents, were irrevocably engaged in the
-approaching expedition. At length, however, the
-conference ended; Soubise took his leave, and
-Buckingham rose to quit the chamber where he
-had breakfasted.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was, probably, with a pre-occupied mind that
-he thus prepared to go out; and it is very possible
-that he scarcely observed a small figure, which
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>he may not even have recognized, which was lifting
-up, as he passed on, the hangings between the room
-and the antechamber. This was Felton. Buckingham,
-on his way, stopped an instant to speak to Sir
-Thomas Fryer, one of his Colonels, who was a
-short man--so that, in order to hear his reply, the
-Duke bent down his head somewhat. Fryer
-then drew back, and, at that moment, Felton,
-striking across the Colonel’s arm, stabbed Buckingham
-a little above the heart. The knife was
-left in the body; the Duke, with a sudden effort,
-drew it out, and exclaiming, “The villain has
-killed me,” pursued the assassin out of the
-parlour into the hall or antechamber, where he
-sank down, and, falling under a table, drew a deep
-breath, and expired.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Then the utmost confusion ensued. The English,
-misled by what had passed at breakfast, accused
-Soubise and his followers of the murder; and they
-would have been instantly sacrificed to the fury of
-the populace, had not some persons of cooler
-feelings interposed in their behalf. No one had
-seen the murderer; he had come in unnoticed,
-and had withdrawn in like manner. At this
-moment, a hat, into which a paper was sewn, was
-found near the door; it was eagerly examined,
-and some writing on the paper read with avidity,
-and these words were deciphered:--</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span></div>
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>“That man is cowardly, base, and deserves
-neither the name of a gentleman nor soldier,
-who will not sacrifice his life for the honour of
-God, and safety of his prince and country. Let
-no man commend me for doing it, but rather
-discommend themselves; for if God had not
-taken away our hearts for our sins, he could
-not have gone so long unpunished.</p>
-<div class='c014'>”<span class='sc'>Jno. Felton.</span>"<a id='r120' /><a href='#f120' class='c013'><sup>[120]</sup></a></div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst the bystanders were reading these words,
-the body of the Duke had been conveyed to the
-inner apartment, from which he had issued, having
-been first laid on the table of the antechamber,
-or hall; and in this inner chamber it was
-left, without a single person, even a domestic, to
-watch over his remains, or to give him that tribute
-of sorrowing respect which is due to the poorest.
-And this singular neglect has been regarded as
-a proof of indifference in those who, but a few
-minutes previously, were crowding round the
-powerful Minister and General. But it was, in
-fact, one of those accidents which often bear a very
-different construction, when they are considered
-relatively to the circumstances of the hour, to that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>placed on them. Sir Henry Wotton, to whom the
-fact was mentioned by one of the Duke’s friends,
-speaks of it as “beyond all wonder;” but accounts
-for it by the horror which the murder had
-excited, added to the astonishment at the sudden
-disappearance of the murderer, who had glided
-from the terrible scene like an actor who has
-done his part, and makes his exit. For a time,
-however, whilst high words were heard between
-the Frenchmen and their accusers, whilst murmurs
-from the street below, of the eager and
-infuriated crowd, were changed into yells of vengeance,
-that cold corpse lay unheeded; “thus,
-upon the withdrawing of the sun, does the
-shadow depart from the painted dial.”<a id='r121' /><a href='#f121' class='c013'><sup>[121]</sup></a> All
-were, indeed, in the house, occupied in asking
-again and again the question, Where could the
-owner of the hat be?--for he, doubtless, was
-the assassin. Whilst they were thus talking, a
-man without a hat was seen walking with perfect
-composure up and down before the door. “Here,”
-cried one of the crowd, “is the man who killed
-the Duke,” upon which Felton calmly said, “I
-am he, let no person suffer that is innocent.”
-Then the populace rushed upon him with drawn
-swords, to which Felton offered no defence, preferring
-rather to die at once, than to abide the issue
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>of justice. He was, however, rescued by others less
-violent--a circumstance which was thought very
-fortunate for the popular party, on whom a stigma
-might have rested had the murderer been killed;
-and Felton being secured, was conveyed to a
-small sentry-box; he was instantly loaded with
-heavy irons, which prevented his either standing
-upright or lying down in that narrow prison,
-where he remained sometime, whilst the mob
-were raging without in the streets.<a id='r122' /><a href='#f122' class='c013'><sup>[122]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Duchess of Buckingham was in an upper
-room of that house in which the husband whom
-she had “loved,” to use her own words, “as never
-woman loved man,” was murdered. She had
-not, when it happened, risen from her bed.<a id='r123' /><a href='#f123' class='c013'><sup>[123]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The following very graphic account, written by
-a very devoted friend of Buckingham, Sir
-Dudley Carleton, presents, in several details, a
-somewhat different delineation of this scene of
-murder, to that which has been related, collected
-from various sources, although, in various instances,
-it is confirmatory of the statements
-usually received.<a id='r124' /><a href='#f124' class='c013'><sup>[124]</sup></a></p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>"<span class='sc'>S<sup>r</sup></span>--If y<sup>e</sup> ill newes we have heard (doe not as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>their use is) out flye these lres,<a id='r125' /><a href='#f125' class='c013'><sup>[125]</sup></a> they will bring you
-y<sup>e</sup> worst of y<sup>e</sup> strangest I think you ever received:
-sure I am, whatever passed my pen. Our
-noble Duke in y<sup>e</sup> midst of his army he had ready
-at Portsmouth as well shipping as land forces,
-in y<sup>e</sup> height of his favour with our Gracious
-Master, who was herd by at this place and in the
-greatest joy and alacrity I ever saw him in my
-life at y<sup>e</sup> newes he had received about of y<sup>e</sup> clock
-in y<sup>e</sup> morning on Saturday last of y<sup>e</sup> relief of
-Rochell, in that fort, that y<sup>e</sup> place might well
-attend his coming, wherewith he was hastening
-to y<sup>e</sup> King, who that morning had sent for
-him by me upon other occasions;--at his going out
-of a lower parlour where he usually sat, and had
-then broken his fast in presence of many standers
-by (Frenchmen with Monsieur de Soubise,
-officers of his army and those of his own Trayns)
-was stabbed unto y<sup>e</sup> heart a little above y<sup>e</sup>
-breast with a knife by one Felton, an Englishman,
-being a Reformed Lieutenant, who hastening out
-of y<sup>e</sup> doore and y<sup>e</sup> duke having pulled out y<sup>e</sup> knife
-which was left in y<sup>e</sup> wound and following him
-out of y<sup>e</sup> parlour into y<sup>e</sup> hall, with his hand
-putt to his sword, there fell down dead with much
-effusion of bloud at his mouth and nostrils.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>The Lady Anglesea,<a id='r126' /><a href='#f126' class='c013'><sup>[126]</sup></a> then looking down into
-<a id='corr114.2'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='y'>y<sup>e</sup></ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_114.2'><ins class='correction' title='y'>y<sup>e</sup></ins></a></span> hall out of an open Gallery, which crossed
-y<sup>e</sup> end of it, and being spectator of this tragical
-fight, went immediately with a cry into y<sup>e</sup>
-Duchesses Chamber, who was in bed, and then
-fell down on y<sup>e</sup> floor, so surprized y<sup>e</sup> poor
-Duchesse with this sad ... matin....<a id='r127' /><a href='#f127' class='c013'><sup>[127]</sup></a>
-The murderer in y<sup>e</sup> midst of y<sup>e</sup> noise and tumult,
-every man drawing his sword and no man knowing
-whom to strike, nor from whom to defend
-himself, slipt out into y<sup>e</sup> kitchen and there stood
-with some others unespyed, when a voyce being
-currant in the court to w<sup>ch</sup> y<sup>e</sup> window and
-doore of y<sup>e</sup> kitchen answered (a Frenchman, a
-Frenchman), and his guilty conscience making
-him believe it was “Felton, Felton” (who being
-otherwise unknown and undiscovered might well
-have escaped) he came out of y<sup>e</sup> kitchen with his
-sword drawn, and presenting himselfe, said, I
-am the man: some offering to assayle him and
-one running at him with a spit, he flung down
-his sword and rendered himselfe to y<sup>e</sup> company,
-who being ready to handle him as he deserved by
-tearing him in pieces I took him from them, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>having committed him to y<sup>e</sup> custody of some
-officers, when I had taken y<sup>e</sup> best order I could
-for other affairs in so great confusion, jointly with
-Secretary Cooke I examined y<sup>e</sup> man and found he
-had no particular offence against y<sup>e</sup> Duke, more
-than all others for want of some small entertayments
-were owing him: but he grounded his
-practise upon y<sup>e</sup> Parliament’s Remonstrance as to
-make himselfe a Martyr for his Country, which
-he confessed to have resolved to execute y<sup>e</sup> Monday
-before, he being then at London, and came
-from thence expressly by the Wednesday morning,
-arriving at Portsmouth y<sup>e</sup> very morning, not
-above half an hour before he committed it. We
-could not then discover any complices, neither
-did we take more than his free and willing confession:
-but now His Majestie hath ordayned by
-Commission y<sup>e</sup> Lord Treassurer, Lord Steward,
-Earl of Dorset, Secretary Cooke and myselfe to
-proceed with him as y<sup>e</sup> nature of y<sup>e</sup> fact requires,
-and wee shall begin this afternoon: meane while
-I would not but give you this relation to y<sup>e</sup> end
-you may know y<sup>e</sup> truth of this bloudy act,
-which will flye about the world diversly reported
-to you, and you should not find it strange such a
-blowe to be struck in y<sup>e</sup> midst of y<sup>e</sup> Duke’s
-friends and followers: you must know y<sup>e</sup> murderer
-took his time and place at y<sup>e</sup> presse near
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>y<sup>e</sup> issue of y<sup>e</sup> room, and many of us were stept out
-to our horses, as I my selfe was to go to Court
-with the Duke. The murderer gloryed in his
-acte y<sup>e</sup> first day; but when I told him he was
-y<sup>e</sup> first assassin of an Englishman, a gentleman, a
-soldier, and a protestant, he shrunk at it, and is
-now grown penitent. It seems this man and
-Ravillac were of no other Religion (though he
-professeth other) than <em>assassanisme</em>; they have
-the same maxims as you will see by two writings
-were found sowed in his hat, wc<sup>h</sup> goe herewith.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='small'>“From Lord Viscount Dorchester to” [not addressed.]</span><a id='r128' /><a href='#f128' class='c013'><sup>[128]</sup></a></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>In another letter, addressed to the King of
-Bohemia by Sir Charles Morgan, it was also shown
-in what sanguine spirits the Duke was, and how
-he was forming good resolutions, when he received
-the fatal blow which cut him off from all
-hope of retrieving the errors he so candidly confessed,
-or of completing the work of reformation,
-in various departments, which he hoped to
-accomplish. Although we may feel assured that
-the blow was suffered to fall for some purpose
-of mercy, yet never did any sudden death seem
-more untimely.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The King was only about six miles from Portsmouth,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>whence he intended doubtless to witness
-the departure of a friend whom he never ceased
-to lament. He was at prayers when Sir John
-Hippesley came suddenly into the Presence Chamber,
-where service was that day performed, and
-whispered the news into his Majesty’s ear.
-Charles did not permit a single feature of his
-face to express either astonishment or distress;
-and, when a deep pause ensued, the appalled
-chaplain thinking to spare his Majesty the distress
-of remaining during the service, he calmly
-ordered him to proceed with the prayers--and,
-until those were concluded, preserved the same
-undisturbed demeanour. Some there were who
-argued, from this perfect mastery over his feelings,
-that the King did not regret the death of
-one who had rendered him so unpopular, and
-from whom he could not unloose the bonds which
-early habit and youthful friendship had drawn so
-closely as to convert them into shackles. But the
-deep sorrow which Charles felt was shown in
-his affectionate care of those whom his favourite
-loved; nor was it, as some supposed, without a
-stern effort that he controlled his emotions
-whilst he remained amid those assembled in
-prayer. No sooner was the service over, than
-he suddenly departed to his chamber, and, throwing
-himself on his bed, gave full vent to a passion
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>of grief, and, weeping long and bitterly,
-paid to the poor Duke the tribute of his anguish,--lamenting
-not only the loss of an excellent
-friend and servant, but “the terrible manner of
-the Duke’s death.” And he continued for many
-days in the deepest melancholy.<a id='r129' /><a href='#f129' class='c013'><sup>[129]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Of course, in those days, this fearful event
-was said to have been foretold, not only by a
-ghost, but in dreams, and by presentiments.
-Sir James Bagg, one of the Duke’s most trusted
-servants, has left the following proof of his belief
-in dreams:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>"<span class='sc'>Right Honorable</span>--Hand in hand came
-to my unfortunate hand yo Expps.<a id='r130' /><a href='#f130' class='c013'><sup>[130]</sup></a> and my
-noble friend Mr. Secretarie Cooke’s, and yo<sup>r</sup>
-Honors leynes could not be but welcome although
-they brought vnto mee the sadd and heavy
-newes of that damnable act of that accursed
-ffelton, wc<sup>h</sup> hath so seated itself in my heart as
-it will hould memorie there, of the untymilie
-losse of my deere and gracious Lord to my unpacified
-sorrow untill my Death; for as I partook
-wt<sup>h</sup> him of his comforts living, I will have
-a share of his sorrowes after him. Oh my Lord!
-his end was upon Satterdau <a id='corr118.25'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='morning'>morning.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_118.25'><ins class='correction' title='morning'>morning.</ins></a></span> The daie
-of his dissolving tould mee by a dreame, discribed
-in all. It wanted but the damned name of Felton.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>But that fiende unworthy of it was entituled by
-the name of Souldier. This Dreame tould my
-Wife and dearest friends, did not a little trouble
-mee, but now the trueth thereof torments me.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Yo leynes my only comforte brought wt<sup>h</sup>
-them his Mat<a id='r131' /><a href='#f131' class='c013'><sup>[131]</sup></a> commands. In all I doe obey
-them," &amp;c., &amp;c.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>The letter is addressed thus from Sir James
-Bagg--“For his Lordship,” and dated, “Augt.
-28th, 1628.”<a id='r132' /><a href='#f132' class='c013'><sup>[132]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Amongst the Duke’s relations the Countess
-of Denbigh was most beloved by him, and his
-affection was warmly returned. On the very
-day of his death he wrote to her. Whilst she was
-penning her answer, her paper was moistened
-with her tears, in a passion of grief so poignant
-and so despairing, that she could only account
-for it by believing those transports of sorrow to
-have been prophetic. She wrote to him these
-words:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“I will pray for your happy return, which I
-look to with a great cloud over my head, too
-heavy for my poor heart to bear without torment.
-But I hope the great God of Heaven will bless
-you.”<a id='r133' /><a href='#f133' class='c013'><sup>[133]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>On the day after the Duke’s death, the Bishop
-of Ely, who was the devoted friend of Lady
-Denbigh, being considered the fittest person to
-break the intelligence to her, went to visit her,
-but hearing that she was asleep, waited until she
-awoke, which she did in all the perturbation
-produced by a terrible dream. Her brother, she
-said, had seemed to pass with her through a field,
-when, hearing a sudden shout from the people,
-she had asked what it meant, and was told that it
-was for joy that the Duke of Buckingham was
-ill. She was relating this dream to one of her
-gentlewomen when the Bishop entered her
-chamber. The scene that followed may be easily
-conceived. Whatever were the ill-starred Duke’s
-failings, he died beloved by those most dear to
-him.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His sister’s apprehensions were, indeed, perfectly
-justifiable, and they might well intrude
-into those hours of silence in which thoughts of
-the absent or unhappy most frequently trouble
-our minds. Had the Duke again been saved
-from the chances of war, what might have been
-his fate at home in case of his return unsuccessful?
-Already had he hardly escaped from the indignation
-of the people: even then, in the remote
-county of Carmarthen, they were raising reports
-that the King had been poisoned by the Duke--reports
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>that had been believed by the simple
-inhabitants of Wales. The fury of party had
-much to answer for in the excitement of bad
-passions, the end and mischief of which can never
-be foreseen.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The greatest obscurity hung over the motives
-which prompted the act, unless it be explained by the
-practical aberration of a mind which, still bearing
-the outward semblance of reason, has evil
-thoughts, fostered by strong passions. The connections
-of Felton were not only poor--his
-mother appears to have been illiterate. To them,
-probably, his designs were never imparted,
-although they lived in the metropolis; yet it is
-evident, from several circumstances, that they
-knew of his animosity to the Duke, and were, to
-a certain extent--without any complicity--prepared
-to hear of some fearful act on the part of
-their unhappy relative.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst the Duke’s family were overwhelmed
-with anguish, another humble mourner almost
-sank under the blow. This was Elianore
-Felton, the mother of the assassin. She was a
-native of Durham, of which city her father had
-once been mayor, but she was then residing
-in London. On the 24th of August, in the
-church in St. Dunstan’s, in the Strand, an aged
-woman and her daughter attended afternoon
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>service. These poor women were Elianore
-Felton and Elizabeth Hone, the mother and sister
-of Felton.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>During the singing of the psalms, whilst the
-congregation were standing up, some disturbance
-took place in the church. Elianore Felton, turning
-to a gentleman near her, inquired what was
-the cause? She was told that the Duke of Buckingham
-was killed; upon which, although the name
-of the assassin was not then mentioned to her,
-the unhappy woman fainted.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is probable that, knowing her son’s sentiments
-towards the Duke, and being aware of Felton’s
-fanatical opinions and moody temper, a panic,
-causing that sudden fainting, seized her. Her
-daughter, also, as the poor mother confessed
-in her subsequent examination, swooned also.
-These facts are very remarkable, and seem to
-show that she and her mother were aware of
-Felton’s intentions. No further information was
-gathered from these gentlewomen by those
-around them, until, in about half-an-hour, upon
-the church becoming fuller, there ran another
-whisper through it, purporting that a certain
-Lieutenant Felton, or Fenton, had killed the
-Duke. Then, as Elizabeth Hone confessed, she
-did much weep and lament, supposing that it
-was her brother that had done the deed. She
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>had, however, the presence of mind to conduct
-her mother home, before she told her that it
-was her son who had committed murder, and
-plunged the nation into consternation, and his
-family into ruin.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>No proof whatsoever of any conspiracy was
-to be elucidated from the unfortunate relations
-of the culprit. Debt and disappointment had,
-according to their evidence, driven Felton to
-desperation. How many of the evil accidents
-of life issue, as far as one can see, humanly
-speaking, from pecuniary mismanagement. Felton,
-on the Wednesday before the Duke was killed,
-had gone to his mother’s lodging, and told her
-of his intention to get the money due to him
-for pay from the Duke; adding, that “he was
-too deeply in debt to stay longer in town.”
-Eighty pounds, it appeared, was then owing to
-him. This, and the loss of his Captaincy, were
-all that he had alleged to his own family against
-the Duke; he owned to no other grievance.
-The mother and sister, and brothers, were, however,
-committed to prison, although Edmund
-Felton, the brother of the delinquent, affirmed
-that he had not seen him for ten weeks previously
-to the murder; that John Felton had been
-estranged from him, and did not let him know
-where he lodged. There was no attempt in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>the examination, which took place before Thomas
-Richardson and Henry Finch, to screen the
-culprit by a plea of insanity; all his brother
-said was, that his disposition was “melancholie,
-sad, and heavy, and of few words.”<a id='r134' /><a href='#f134' class='c013'><sup>[134]</sup></a> Alone had
-he conceived, planned, and put into execution the
-deed of guilt; yet such was the hard disposition
-of the times, that it was proposed to extract
-a confession from John Felton by torture; but
-Charles interposed, and forbade the application
-of that horrible test,<a id='r135' /><a href='#f135' class='c013'><sup>[135]</sup></a> and it was never again
-attempted in this country.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The nation was paralyzed by the death of
-the Minister, Admiral, and General. “During
-Buckingham’s presence at Court,” as Mr. Bruce,
-in the preface to the “Calendar of State Papers,”
-remarks, “he reigned there as the King’s absolute
-and single Minister. Every act of the Government
-passed by or through his will. The
-King was little seen or heard of on State
-affairs. He seldom ever attended a sitting of
-the Privy Council, except to carry out some
-object of his favourite.” The void, the loss, may
-easily be conceived, after the death of the Duke.
-Charles, however, not only entered warmly into
-public affairs, but into the care and concerns of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>those children whom his friend had solemnly bequeathed
-to his charge.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His first office, however, was to honour the
-remains of one so suddenly cut off, whilst in the
-prime of life. The process of embalming was
-then deemed indispensable; the Duke’s body,
-therefore, was submitted to that, happily, now
-disused operation; his bowels were interred at
-Portsmouth, where Lady Denbigh erected over
-them a memorial. Thus the place of his death
-was marked.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The corpse was then conveyed to York House,
-where all that could be viewed of that once
-noble form was exhibited underneath a hearse.
-Eventually it was entombed under a splendid
-monument in Westminster Abbey, on the north
-side of Henry VII.’s Chapel; and his Duchess,
-notwithstanding her second marriage, and his
-two sons, were buried in the vault beneath the
-tomb with their father.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Duchess of Buckingham was near her
-confinement when this tragedy occurred. When
-Charles first visited the young widow, he promised
-her that he would be a “husband to her,
-and a father to her children.” One son alone
-was living at the time of the Duke’s decease.
-This was George, the second Duke of Buckingham
-of the house of Villiers. The character
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>of this young nobleman, to whom Horace Walpole
-imputed “the figure and genius of Alcibiades,”
-has been “drawn by four masterly hands.
-Burnet has hewn it out with his rough chisel.
-Count Hamilton touched it with slight delicacy,
-that finishes while it seems to sketch. Dryden
-catched the living likeness. Pope completed the
-historical resemblance.” Lastly, Sir Walter Scott,
-in our time, has depicted this singular being with
-admirable skill, if not with perfect fidelity. He
-was scarcely a year and seven months old at his
-father’s death.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>One daughter, Lady Mary Villiers, survived the
-Duke. In the third year of the reign of Charles I.,
-Buckingham having then no male heir, caused a
-patent to be made, limiting to her the title of
-Duchess of Buckingham, in default of male issue,
-his infant eldest son, Charles, having died in
-1626, and George not being then born.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Lady Mary’s life, so happy, seemingly, in her
-infancy, when, as “little Moll,” she was King
-James’s plaything, was not, in one respect, felicitous.
-Her first marriage, to Charles Lord
-Herbert, son and heir of Philip, Earl of Pembroke,
-was hastened, and performed privately
-in the chapel at Whitehall, because the young
-bride had formed an attachment to Philip
-Herbert, a younger son, who “did more apply
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>himself to her,” as she stated, than the elder
-suitor.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But her mother chided her out of this fancy,
-and the wedding took place--the bridegroom
-dying of small-pox a few weeks afterwards.
-Lady Mary married, secondly, James, Duke of
-Richmond and Lennox, by whom she had a son,
-Esme Stuart, who died in infancy; and thirdly,
-Thomas Howard, brother of the Earl of Carlisle.
-She left no children, so that her father’s desire to
-perpetuate in her his title was not realized. If
-we may believe the praise of an epitaph which
-was undisguisedly paid for, we must suppose
-Lady Mary to have been endowed with all the
-virtues.<a id='r136' /><a href='#f136' class='c013'><sup>[136]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Some months after the Duke’s death, his
-widow gave birth to a son, named Francis after
-his grandfather, who provided for him in a fortune
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>of 1,000<em>l.</em> a-year. When he grew up, however,
-Francis shared with his brother the misfortune
-that overshadowed the family, from the unexpected
-second marriage of their mother to Randolph
-Macdonald, first Earl and afterwards Marquis
-of Antrim. It is painful to find the widowed
-Duchess separated from her children, having
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>become a Roman Catholic; and having incurred in
-this, and on account of the conduct of her husband
-in Ireland, under Sir Thomas Wentworth, the
-King’s displeasure. Charles so greatly disapproved
-of her marriage, that he refused, for
-several years, to see her, and, when reconciled,
-took away her children lest they should be imbued
-with her religious opinions. The young
-Duke and his brother Francis were educated,
-unhappily for themselves, with the Princes,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>Charles II. and his brothers; and Lady Mary
-was received in the house of the Earl of Pembroke,
-her father-in-law. Such are the changes
-and chances of life, that in 1639 we find Katharine,
-(still signing herself “Katharine Buckingham”)
-interceding with Strafford for her husband, Lord
-Antrim. “Any misfortune,” she writes, “to my
-lord must be mine.”<a id='r137' /><a href='#f137' class='c013'><sup>[137]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>For him she had sacrificed indeed the favour
-of the King, and the guardianship of her children.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In 1648, Lord Francis, who, with his brother,
-had taken the field against the Parliament, was
-killed, at about two miles distance from Kingston-on-Thames:
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>standing with his back planted against
-an oak-tree on the road-side; and, scorning to ask
-quarter, he met his death gallantly, having nine
-wounds on his face and body. He is said to have
-been a most beautiful youth, and was only nineteen
-when he thus fell. His body was brought
-by water to York House, then sad and desolate,
-and was taken thence to be deposited in his father’s
-vault, with a Latin inscription on the coffin, preserved
-by Brian Fairfax, a faithful adherent, who
-thought it a pity that the epitaph should be buried
-with him; and who has therefore given it in his life
-of George, the second Duke of Buckingham. The
-elder brother of Lord Francis, after a life of extraordinary
-adventure, vicissitude, study, and dissipation,
-died, in 1688, quietly in his bed--“the fate of
-few of his predecessors of the title of Buckingham.”
-His body also lies entombed near his father. “The
-life of pleasure and the soul of whim,” as Pope
-describes him, his career furnishes a wide field for
-reflection and investigation, to those who may dare
-to dive into a biography so characterized by all
-the worst parts of the age in which he existed,
-as that of this profligate man.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Mary, Countess of Buckingham, survived the
-Duke, her son, four years--when, with her life,
-her dignity expired.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>John Villiers, Lord Purbeck, died in 1657,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>when the titles which he bore became extinct.
-He lived, however, to recover his powers of mind,
-and to act as a friend and guardian to his nephews.
-Lady Purbeck, his first wife, took the
-name of Wright, and her son, by Lord Howard,
-bore that surname. The once flattered heiress,
-whose follies and misconduct were forgiven, as
-we have seen, by her father, died in 1645, in the
-King’s Garrison, at Oxford, and she is buried in
-the Church of St. Mary’s, in that city.<a id='r139' /><a href='#f139' class='c013'><sup>[139]</sup></a> Notwithstanding
-the misery of his first union, Lord Purbeck
-married again; but had no issue by his
-second wife, who was a daughter of Sir William
-Thugsby, of Kippen, in Yorkshire.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Robert Wright, the illegitimate son of Lady
-Purbeck, took his wife’s name of Danvers, in
-order to abandon that of Villiers, so distasteful
-to the Commonwealth, with which he sided.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His descendants, nevertheless, laid claim to the
-honours of the first Lord Purbeck--and, although
-their claim was refused by Parliament, assumed
-them, until, in 1774, the death of the last pretender
-to the title, George Villiers, died without
-issue.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Christopher Villiers, the youngest brother of
-the Duke, pre-deceased him, dying in 1624. His
-title became extinct in 1659.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>Sir William Villiers, the eldest half-brother of the
-Duke, had never emerged from his original obscurity;
-but Sir Edward, his other half-brother,
-whom Buckingham constituted President of
-Munster, was highly esteemed for his justice and
-hospitality, and lamented by the whole province.<a id='r140' /><a href='#f140' class='c013'><sup>[140]</sup></a>
-From him, through his son, who had succeeded his
-maternal uncle in the title of Viscount Grandison,
-was descended the famous (or infamous) Barbara
-Villiers, afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, the
-mistress of Charles II. Her beauty appears to
-have been one of the few traits of the Villiers
-family that she possessed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is remarkable that not one of the titles conferred
-on the family of Villiers by James I. remains
-to distinguish the descendants of old Sir
-George of Brookesby. The Earldoms of Clarendon
-and of Jersey are subsequent creations.<a id='r141' /><a href='#f141' class='c013'><sup>[141]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>The Duchess of Buckingham, as she still styled
-herself, appears to have lived occasionally at
-Newhall, for after her daughter’s marriage she
-was very desirous of having her with her--but
-the King would not hear of it; and the soundness
-of his judgment was proved by the conduct
-of the Duchess. Her life was henceforth
-occupied in bringing over converts to the
-faith she professed; amongst others she succeeded
-in making a proselyte of the Countess
-of Newburgh. After the death of her father,
-in 1632, she inherited the title of Baroness de
-Ros. It is remarkable that even in her person
-the honours her first husband had procured for
-his family did not abide. She, indeed, by courtesy,
-bore still his title, but was actually Marchioness
-of Antrim and Baroness de Ros. So
-extraordinary an acquisition of honours, and so
-rapid an extinction, are not known in any other
-family of England, but are peculiar to the House
-of Villiers.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Few things disappoint the reader more than
-the unaccountable change in the character of
-Katharine, Duchess of Buckingham, after she
-ceased, except by courtesy, to bear that name. She
-seems to have hastened, not only to plunge into a
-second marriage, but to have at last avowed,
-what she had during the whole of her life denied,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>the tenets of the Church of Rome. Henceforth
-she was opposed to the monarch by whom
-her husband, the Duke, had been overwhelmed
-with benefits. This painful alteration in one
-so gentle, so forgiving, so affectionate in her
-earlier life, is one of those anomalies in life that
-one cannot cease to regret, without being able
-to explain.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c021'>CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM--HIS PATRONAGE OF ART--HIS COLLECTION--THE SPANISH COURT DESCRIBED--COLLECTION BY CHARLES I.--FATE OF THESE PICTURES.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span><span class='large'>CHAPTER IV.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c022'>Whatever may have been the failings of the
-Duke of Buckingham as a husband, he marked his
-confidence in his wife by his will. That last act of
-his life gave the Duchess power over all his personal
-property, as well as a life possession of
-all his mansion-houses, with a fourth of his lands
-in jointure. That his debts were considerable,
-has been amply shewn during the course of the
-preceding narrative. Previous to his expedition
-to Rhé, he had wisely put his revenues into the
-hands of commissioners, and placed it out of
-his own power to manage or mismanage his
-own affairs. His occupations, as a courtier, as a
-minister, as an ambassador, and, lastly, as a
-general, sufficiently excuse his want of leisure
-for the control of his expenses, and the system
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>of retrenchment requisite to relieve him from
-harassing liabilities.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He left, however, an immense amount of capital
-locked up in pictures; and that famous collection
-which places him, as Dr. Waagen affirms,
-in the third rank as “a collector of paintings
-in this country,” came into the possession of his
-son. It was chiefly deposited in York House--that
-stately structure, so complete and so princely,
-that in 1663, when it had become the residence
-of the Russian embassy, Pepys was still amazed
-at its splendour, although thirty-five eventful
-years had shaken many a grand fabric to its
-fall. “That,” he says, “which did please me
-best, was the remains of the noble soul of the
-late Duke of Buckingham appearing in his
-house, in every place, in the door-cases, and the
-windows.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was in the Court of Madrid that Buckingham
-had learned to love art, to favour artists,
-and to become a judge of their works. Philip
-IV., of Spain, inert and inefficient as a monarch,
-and governed by Olivares, was a man of considerable
-intellectual powers, and of great taste.
-“The denizens of his palace breathed,” as a
-modern writer expressed it, “an atmosphere of
-letters.”<a id='r142' /><a href='#f142' class='c013'><sup>[142]</sup></a> At that time the Castilian stage was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>in its perfection; the scenery was inimitable,
-and the greatest expense was bestowed in representing
-the pieces of Lope de Vega, and of
-Calderon; in the same manner as the masques
-of Ben Jonson were aided in effect by the talents
-of Inigo Jones. Nor was Philip IV. a mere
-patron of genius; he was himself an actor and
-author, writing with purity and elegance: a
-musician, a poet, or, as he delighted to style
-himself, <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Ingenio de esto corte</em></span>. He wrote a tragedy
-on the death of Essex, Elizabeth’s favourite;
-and he often acted with other literary men of
-his Court, delighting to vie with them in the
-display of fancy and humour in the <span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><em>Comedias de
-repente</em></span>, representations resembling those of charades
-in the present day, in which a certain
-plot was worked out, with extempore speeches.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Several of this monarch’s drawings, both of
-figures and landscapes, long remained as proofs
-of that skill which had distinguished both his
-fathers and grandfathers. He was an incomparable
-judge of painting; for at Valencia he delighted
-the citizens: on being shewn the great
-silver altar of the cathedral, he remarked promptly,
-that "the altar was of silver, but the doors were
-gold"--alluding to the pictures painted by Aregio
-and Neapoli, which adorned the doors.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It may easily be imagined how the example of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>this young Prince, only in his nineteenth year
-when Buckingham visited Spain, must have
-awakened in him, as in Charles, a new sense;
-fresh conceptions of the beautiful, cravings
-hitherto unfelt, an honourable emulation. And
-the example of Philip had its effect on both: the
-reception given to Rubens, who, as an artist, was
-treated with far greater distinction than he
-would have been as a mere diplomatist, in which
-capacity he came; the efforts of Philip to form
-an academy of fine arts; the honours bestowed
-on Velasquez; and the enthusiasm which he
-shewed in the collection of fine pictures for the
-galleries, which he so wonderfully enriched, must
-have proved to Charles and Buckingham how far
-behind was their own country in taste and liberality.
-They saw that the gold of Mexico and
-Peru was freely given for the treasures of art,
-whilst royalty at home was lavish only on
-pageants, horse-racing, hunting, and feasting.
-They saw the elevating effects of art and letters,
-and staid not in Spain long enough to witness the
-results of that life-long mistake made by Philip IV.,
-in resigning the reins of government to the hands
-of a minister who lost for his sovereign great possessions,
-far exceeding those that many conquerors
-have acquired.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>These refined tastes, which shone forth in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>Philip, were participated by his young and beautiful
-queen, Isabella of Bourbon, his first wife, and
-the sister of Henrietta Maria. She was the
-loveliest subject of the pencil of Velasquez. At
-Broom-Hall, in Fifeshire, there is a picture by
-him representing the exchange of this Princess,
-when a girl, with Anne of Austria, the sister of
-Philip IV.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Isabella was destined to be the bride of Philip,
-then Prince of the Asturias--Anne to become
-the wife of Louis XIII. of France.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This production of Velasquez was only one of
-many portraits of this lovely princess; for she was
-by all acknowledged to be the very star of the Court.
-She shared the taste of her husband, whilst his
-young brothers, both early instructed in drawing,
-warmly joined in the King’s pursuits, not only in
-the arts, but in literature. The elder, Don
-Carlos, beloved, as has been stated, by the
-Spaniards for his dark complexion, was supposed
-to have excited the jealousy of Olivares by his
-talents--he died in 1626: the second, the Boy-Cardinal,
-who assumed the Roman purple and the
-mitre of an archbishop, was the able pupil in
-painting of Vincencio Carducho, and became the
-most intellectual of the Spanish Princes that had
-appeared since Charles V. He set the fashion of
-those half-dramatic, half-musical pieces, which were
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>called in Spain, <span lang="es" xml:lang="es"><em>Zarzuelas</em></span>.<a id='r143' /><a href='#f143' class='c013'><sup>[143]</sup></a> The boy--whom we
-have seen joining heart and soul, in his purple robe,
-and beneath his mitre, in court revels, given in
-honour of Charles I., was, at that very time, a
-student in philosophy and mathematics; and when
-at the age of twenty-two he was sent to govern
-Flanders, and henceforth to spend the brief span
-of life allotted to him in camps and councils--was
-still, to the last, the patron of Velasquez
-and Rubens.<a id='r144' /><a href='#f144' class='c013'><sup>[144]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Olivares the Magnificent, as he was often
-called, cultivated the fine arts as a means of
-diverting the young monarch from his own abuse
-of power, and the consequent discontents which
-marked his administration. He possessed the
-most magnificent library in Europe, abounding in
-rare manuscripts, and, domesticated in this house
-as chaplain, Lope de Vega passed his old age.
-Quevedo, Pachecho, and many others, owed much
-to the patronage of Olivares--a protection which
-they paid back in compliments, and, like Lord
-Halifax, he was “fed with dedications.” Olivares
-was one of the first sitters to Velasquez; he was
-the patron of Murillo, and, in the downfall of this
-minister, these two painters did not desert their
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>early friend, but alone clung to him in his misfortunes.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The King, his Queen, the two royal brothers,
-and Olivares, had all a passion for having portraits
-taken of themselves. Philip was born for a sitter.
-His face, as Dr. Waagen remarks, “is better
-known than his history.” His pale Flemish complexion,
-Austrian features, and fair hair have
-been many times depicted by Rubens and
-Velasquez. He was sometimes painted on his
-Andalusian courser, sometimes in black velvet, as
-he was going to the council--even at his prayers.
-There was an hereditary gift of silence and composure
-in his race: in Philip the attribute was so
-signal, that he could witness a whole comedy
-without stirring hand or foot, and conduct an
-audience without a muscle moving, except those in
-his lips and tongue.<a id='r145' /><a href='#f145' class='c013'><sup>[145]</sup></a> Even after slaying the bull of
-Xarama, famed for strength and fierceness, not
-for a moment did he change countenance. To
-this incomparable staidness and dignity was added
-the advantage of a tall figure, which Philip knew
-well how to set off by a perfect mastery in combination
-of colours. Black he mixed almost
-uniformly with white, and gold and silver. This
-stately monarch was never known to smile more
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>than three times in his life--that is, publicly,
-for in private he was ever “full of merry discourses.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Thus, taste, letters in every branch, the noblest
-works of architecture and sculpture, were the
-themes of a court where those who had left behind
-them the pedantry and vulgarity of King James
-arrived in the vigour of youth and intellect.
-Velasquez was painting a portrait of the King,
-and one also of the Infant, Don Fernando, when
-Charles and Buckingham arrived at Madrid, and
-interrupted, by their presence and the ceremonials
-of their reception, the completion of these
-pictures. The astonished Prince and his favourite
-found themselves transformed into a region
-hitherto scarcely dreamed of, yet which they were,
-by natural refinement of taste, well calculated to
-enter. They had left King James hunting in a
-ruff and bombasted garments; that King hated
-novelties. “It was as well,” Horace Walpole
-remarks, “that he had no disposition to the arts,
-but let them take their own course, for he might
-have introduced as bad a taste into them as he
-did into literature.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Walpole attributes, likewise, the absence of
-pictures in the houses of the English nobility at
-this period to the great size and height of the
-rooms which they erected in the sixteenth and seventeenth
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>centuries, when vastness seems to have
-constituted the idea of grandeur. Pictures
-would have been lost in rooms of such height,
-which were better calculated for tapestry; and he
-offers, as an instance, Hardwicke--which was furnished
-for the reception and imprisonment of
-Mary Queen of Scots--and Audley-End, as proofs
-of the prodigious space covered by a modern
-gentleman’s house in the days of James I., and
-observes how impossible it would have been to
-place pictures in such structures.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>One may readily conceive, therefore, the
-enchantment that was felt in visiting the Escurial,
-the palace of Buen-retiro, and the noble churches
-and famous convents of Madrid. Charles and
-Buckingham beheld that capital in the height of
-its splendour, and witnessed its most brilliant
-displays; they attended the grand, picturesque
-services and processions; they became acquainted
-with the works of Titian, of Velasquez, and
-Carducho. That Charles cherished the remembrance
-of the scenes in which he had once played
-so romantic a part, is evident from his employing
-a young painter, Miquel de la Cruz, even when
-England was threatened with the great Rebellion,
-to paint for him copies of a number of pictures
-from those in the Alcazar of Madrid.<a id='r146' /><a href='#f146' class='c013'><sup>[146]</sup></a> The painter
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>was cut off by an early death, and the project was
-never carried out.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>After visiting the halls of the Escurial and of
-the Pardo, Charles resolved to form a gallery of
-art at Whitehall; and Buckingham, at the same
-time, determined to decorate York House with
-Spanish paintings. The nucleus of the gallery of
-art at Whitehall was bought from the collection
-of the Conde de Villame. Charles, also, endeavoured
-to purchase a small picture, on copper, of
-Correggio’s, from Don Andres Velasquez, for a
-thousand crowns, but was unsuccessful; he failed,
-also, in obtaining the valuable volumes of Da
-Vinci’s drawings, which Don Juan de Espina
-refused to sell, saying that he intended to bequeath
-these treasures of art to his master, the King.
-The nobles in the Spanish Court were in the
-habit of gratifying their young sovereign with
-presents of pictures and statues; and a similar
-attention was paid both to the Duke of Buckingham
-and to Charles. Philip gave the Prince the famous
-“Antiope,” by Titian; as well as “Diana Bathing,”
-"Europa," and “Danaë,” by the same master.
-Buckingham had several presents of value given
-him; but though they were packed up, these
-paintings were left behind, in the hurry of
-departure, and were never forwarded to England.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>A great portion of the large sums spent by
-Buckingham in Spain was expended in forming
-that famous collection which fell, unhappily, into
-the hands of his son. It would appear that James
-I. somewhat curtailed Charles’s expenditure on this
-head; for we find, by an entry in the State Paper
-Office, that Buckingham lent the Prince twelve
-thousand pounds during their sojourn in Spain.
-Nevertheless, no specimen of Spanish art was
-ever conveyed to England by Charles.<a id='r147' /><a href='#f147' class='c013'><sup>[147]</sup></a> A sketch
-was, indeed, begun of the Prince, by Velasquez,
-but it is doubtful if it were ever completed.
-Pachecho, the father-in-law of Velasquez, states
-that Charles was so delighted with this portrait
-in its unfinished state, that he presented the great
-painter with a hundred thousand crowns.<a id='r148' /><a href='#f148' class='c013'><sup>[148]</sup></a> One
-may readily account for its never being completed,
-because Velasquez, when Charles and
-Buckingham left Madrid, could scarcely have
-finished the portraits and other pictures on which
-he was engaged by Philip IV.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In 1847, a picture belonging to Mr. Saare, of
-Reading, and supposed to have been a relic of
-the gallery of Whitehall, was exhibited in London
-as this lost portrait by Velasquez. It portrays
-Prince Charles in a more robust form, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>with a greater breadth of countenance than any
-other known resemblance; and was stated to have
-been painted in 1623, and to have been mentioned
-in a privately printed catalogue of the gallery of the
-Earl of Fife, who died in 1809, in which it was stated
-that it had once belonged to the Duke of Buckingham.
-Unfortunately, the surname of the
-Duke of Buckingham was not specified; and
-since the title has been owned, so late as 1735, by
-the Sheffield family, the evidence was incomplete.
-A very curious controversy ensued, but
-facts remain much in the same state as before;
-and the authenticity of the portrait has been
-strongly disputed, if not denied, by Dr. Waagen,
-and others. It is singular that there was no
-work of Velasquez among the pictures left by
-Buckingham.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst the great enlargement of ideas and improvement
-in taste, resulting from the journey
-into Spain, is acknowledged, it must be remembered
-that Charles and his favourite went, prepared
-in knowledge, and in an honourable emulation,
-to profit by all they might behold and hear.
-In painting, Perichief tells us, Charles “had so
-excellent a fancy, that he would supply the defect
-of art in the workman, and suddenly draw those
-lines, give those airs and lights, which experience
-and practice had taught the painters.” In every
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>point he met the accomplished Philip IV. on
-equal grounds; in some he exceeded him. A
-good antiquary, a judge of medals, a capital mechanist--cognizant
-of the art of printing--there
-existed not a gentleman of the three kingdoms
-that could compete with him in universality of
-knowledge.<a id='r149' /><a href='#f149' class='c013'><sup>[149]</sup></a> He was as ready for war as for
-peace; could put a watch together, yet comprehend
-a fortification; understood guns, and the
-art of ship-building; but the dearest occupation of
-his leisure was the collection of sculptures and
-paintings.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Crown was already in possession of some
-good pictures, when Charles commenced his undertaking.
-Prince Henry had begun the work,
-and the nobility, perceiving the King’s love of art,
-imitated the Spanish nobles, and sent him presents
-of great value. But the great act of Charles’s
-life as a connoisseur, was the purchase of the collection
-of the Duke of Mantua, which was considered
-to be the richest in Europe.<a id='r150' /><a href='#f150' class='c013'><sup>[150]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Philip IV. constantly employed his ambassadors
-and viceroys to buy up fine pictures for his
-gallery; and Charles and Buckingham likewise,
-on their return, adopted a similar plan on a smaller
-scale, by instructing Sir Henry Wotton and Balthazar
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>Gerbier to negociate for them in works of
-art. It is obvious how much the royal collection
-at Whitehall must have been prized; since, upon
-its being sold during the Protectorate, the principal
-purchaser was Don Alonzo de Cardenas, the
-agent of the Spanish King, and his purchases required
-eighteen mules to carry them from the
-coast to Madrid, whence Lord Clarendon, ambassador
-of the exiled Charles II. was dismissed,
-that he might not see the treasures of his unfortunate
-master thus brought into a far and foreign
-country.<a id='r151' /><a href='#f151' class='c013'><sup>[151]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The collection of the Duke of Mantua cost
-Charles eighty thousand pounds--Buckingham
-being the agent, and probably the instigator of
-this purchase. The family of Gonzaga had been,
-in 1627, a hundred years in forming this noble
-gallery. Little inferior to the Medici in their liberality
-to artists, they were the patrons of Andrew
-Mantegna, of Guido Romano, of Raphael, of
-Correggio, and of Titian, successively. The
-“Education of Cupid,” by Correggio, was among
-King Charles’s purchases, as well as the “Entombment,”
-now in the Louvre,and the “Twelve Cæsars”
-by Titian. Rubens purchased for him the Cartoons
-of Raphael, which had been sent by Leo X. to
-Flanders, to be worked in tapestry, and left there.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>Then Charles received various presents; that especially
-commonly styled the “Venus del Pardo,” or
-more properly “Jupiter and Antiope;” the figures
-being set off by one of the grandest landscapes by
-Titian, known. This gem was given by Charles
-to the Duke of Buckingham.<a id='r152' /><a href='#f152' class='c013'><sup>[152]</sup></a> It is now in the
-Louvre, as is also the “Baptist,” by Leonardo da
-Vinci, a present originally from Louis XIII. to
-Charles.<a id='r153' /><a href='#f153' class='c013'><sup>[153]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was during the residence of Buckingham in
-Paris that he became acquainted with Rubens.
-Eventually he bought the whole of the collection
-of statues, paintings, and other valuable works of
-art, which that master had formed at a cost of
-about a thousand pounds, and which he sold to
-the Duke for ten thousand. But it was not often
-that Buckingham increased his stores so easily;
-so early as the year 1613, he had in his household
-Balthazar Gerbier d’Ouvilly, of Antwerp, a
-sort of amanuensis, or, as Sanderson styles him, a
-“common penman,” whose transcribing the decalogue
-for the Dutch Church was one of his first
-steps to preferment. Gerbier became a miniature
-painter, and in that ostensible capacity went into
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>Spain with the Duke; he painted, amongst other
-portraits of the family, a fine oval miniature of his
-patron on horseback, which, in Walpole’s time, belonged
-to the Duchess of Northumberland; the
-figure, dressed in scarlet and gold, is finished with
-great care--and the horse, dark grey, with a white
-mane, is very animated; underneath the horse is
-a landscape with figures, and over the Duke’s head
-is suspended his motto, “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Fidei curricula crux</em></span>.” It
-was in allusion to the well-known talents of Gerbier
-that the Duchess of Buckingham wrote to
-the Duke, when in Spain, begging him, “if he
-had leisure to sit to Gerbier for his portrait, that
-she might have it well done in little.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Gerbier seems at that time to have been a
-special favourite with the King and Queen, who
-supped once at his house--the entertainment, it
-is said, costing the painter a thousand pounds.<a id='r154' /><a href='#f154' class='c013'><sup>[154]</sup></a>
-Gerbier, like Rubens, was employed in delicate
-diplomatic missions; he was also an architect
-and an author, and the founder of an Academy
-for foreign languages, and “for all noble sciences
-and exercises,” as he expressed it. As a diplomatist,
-Gerbier negociated in Flanders a private
-treaty with Spain:--as an architect, his fame
-rested, in the reign of Charles, chiefly on a
-large room built near the Water Gate, at York
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>Stairs, in the Strand, which was commended by
-Charles I. almost as much as the Banqueting
-House. Encouraged by this encomium, Gerbier
-wrote a small work on magnificent buildings,
-proposing to level Fleet Street and Cheapside,
-and to erect a fine gate at Temple Bar; a plan
-of which was presented to Charles II., in whose
-reign Gerbier died. He was the rival, or believed
-himself to be so, of Inigo Jones. Hempstead-Marshal,
-the seat of Lord Craven, long since
-burned down, was Gerbier’s last effort: he died
-before it was completed, and was buried in the
-chancel of the church at that place.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His literary works seem to have been very singular
-compounds of falsehood, invective, and flattery.
-Horace Walpole believes him to have been the
-author of a tract printed by authority, in 1651,
-three years after the execution of Charles I., entitled
-“The Nonsuch Charles, his character,” and
-considers it one of the basest libels ever published.
-“The style, the folly, the wretched reasoning,
-are,” he observes, “consistent with Gerbier’s
-usual works; he must, at all events,” he
-decides, “have furnished materials.” Nevertheless,
-two years afterwards, Gerbier published a piece
-styled “Les Effets Pernicieux,” written in French,
-and to this he affixed his name; it was printed
-at the “Stag,” and composed apparently as a precautionary
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>palliative to the other work, in case of
-the restoration of the Stuarts; and the notion
-seems to have succeeded, since Gerbier returned
-to England with Charles II., and the triumphal
-arches, erected on the Restoration, were designed
-by this singularly versatile man.<a id='r155' /><a href='#f155' class='c013'><sup>[155]</sup></a> He had, however,
-the merit, as we have seen, of endeavouring to
-form an Academy, somewhat on the plan of the
-Royal Institution in Albemarle Street. Sir Francis
-Keynaston at that time resided in Covent Garden,
-and at his house the Academy was held. None
-but gentlemen were admitted. Arts were taught
-by professors, in lectures, Gerbier being one of
-the lecturers. The academy was afterwards removed
-to Whitefriars; then to Bethnal Green,
-whence he dedicated one of his lectures on Military
-Architecture to General Skippon, whom he
-loaded with the most fulsome, and from one who
-had, like himself, been overwhelmed by kindnesses
-from Charles I.--the most treacherous flattery.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is unsatisfactory to refer to any statement
-of Gerbier’s as reliable; in a work on
-“Royal Favourites,” written in French, he stated
-that Dr. Egglisham had applied to him, through
-Sir William Chaloner, to procure his pardon, on
-condition of his confessing that he had been instigated
-by others to publish his libel on Buckingham.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>Gerbier stated that he had applied to the
-Secretary of State, but received no answer. It
-is unfortunate that no one could believe Gerbier,
-either when he calumniated or when he excused
-any individual.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was by this able, scurrilous sycophant that
-the catalogue of Buckingham’s pictures was
-drawn up. In it were enumerated thirteen pictures
-by Rubens, whom the Duke had seen when
-he was at Antwerp, shortly before the Expedition
-to Rhé. When, in 1630, the great
-painter came to England as a diplomatist, the
-Duke was dead, but the sovereign who had so
-greatly encouraged his tastes, did not, as Walpole
-remarks, “overlook in the ambassador the
-talents of the painter.” Rubens painted, for
-three thousand pounds, the ceiling of the
-Banqueting House built by Inigo Jones--and
-depicting the “Apotheosis of King James;” a
-subject highly inconsistent for the purpose for
-which it is now most strangely appropriated as a
-chapel. Vandyck was to have adorned the sides
-with the history of the Garter; so that three
-great masters would have combined to form that
-noblest room in the world; but so grand a possession
-was not destined to be the work of former
-times, or the pride of our own.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>After Buckingham’s death, some of his pictures
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>were bought by the King, some by the Earl of
-Northumberland, and some by Abbot Montague.<a id='r156' /><a href='#f156' class='c013'><sup>[156]</sup></a>
-In the collection there were nineteen pictures by
-Titian, seventeen by Tintoret, thirteen by Paul
-Veronese, twenty-one by Bassano, two by Julio
-Romano, two by Georgione, eight by Palina, three
-by Guido, thirteen by Rubens, three by Leonardo
-da Vinci, two by Correggio, and three by Raphael,
-besides several by inferior masters whose productions
-are scarce. The great prize of the collection
-was the “Ecce Homo,” of Titian, eight feet
-in length and twelve in breadth. For this magnificent
-work of art, in which portraits of the
-Pope, the Emperors Charles V. and Solyman
-the Magnificent are introduced, the Earl of
-Arundel had offered Buckingham seven thousand
-pounds in land or money. The proposal was
-refused, and the “Ecce Homo” shared the
-fate of many of the other pictures in the year
-1648.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>George, the second Duke of Buckingham,
-among whose few good qualities was a
-loyal adherence to that family to whom
-his father owed all, after being allowed by
-the Parliament a period of fifty days to choose
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>between desertion of the Stuarts and outlawry,
-chose the latter. His estates were seized, but his
-father’s pictures, many of which still hung on the
-now gloomy walls of York House, were sent to him
-in his exile at Antwerp, by an old servant, John
-Traylinan, who had been left to guard the property.
-These were now sold for bread. Duart,
-of Antwerp, purchased some of them, but the
-greater number became the possession of the
-Archduke Leopold, and were removed to the
-Castle of Prague. Amongst them was the “Ecce
-Homo;” which has been described as embodying
-the greatest merits of its incomparable
-painter.<a id='r157' /><a href='#f157' class='c013'><sup>[157]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Buckingham’s collection contained two hundred
-and thirty pictures. One may conceive how
-grandly they must have adorned York House,
-where in every chamber were emblazoned the
-arms of the two families, lions and peacocks, the
-houses of Villiers and Manners, who were for a
-few brief years united by one common bond
-under that roof.<a id='r158' /><a href='#f158' class='c013'><sup>[158]</sup></a> Neither pains nor money were
-ever spared by Charles, or by Buckingham, to
-enrich their collections. Charles, with his own
-hands, wrote a letter inviting Albano to England.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>Buckingham endeavoured to attract Carlo Maratti,
-who had painted for him portraits of a Prince and
-Princess of Brunswick, to the English Court; but
-Maratti excused himself on the plea that he was
-not yet perfect in his art.<a id='r159' /><a href='#f159' class='c013'><sup>[159]</sup></a> Little could the King
-have foretold that his treasures at Whitehall
-would have been sold, as Horace Walpole expresses
-it, by “inch of candle;” or the Duke
-that his son and heir should have parted with
-his father’s collection to save himself from starvation
-in a foreign country. Such events seem
-to confirm Sydney Smith’s counsel to a friend,
-not to look forward more than to a futurity of
-two hours’ duration.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Charles I., less happy than Buckingham, had
-the chagrin to hear that his favourite’s beloved
-collection was partially sold, three years before
-his own death. It seems, as Walpole expresses
-it, “to have become part of the religion of the
-time to war on the arts, because they had been
-countenanced at Court.” In 1645 the Parliament
-ordered the two collections to be sold; but, lest
-the public exigencies should not be thought to
-afford sufficient cause for this step, they passed
-the following acts to colour their proceedings:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Ordered, (July 23, 1635,) that all such pictures
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>and statues there (at York House) as are without
-any superstition, shall be forthwith sold.”<a id='r160' /><a href='#f160' class='c013'><sup>[160]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Ordered, that all such pictures as shall have
-the representation of the second person in the
-Trinity upon them shall be forthwith burnt.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Ordered, that all such pictures there, as have
-the representation of the Virgin Mary upon them,
-shall be forthwith burnt."<a id='r161' /><a href='#f161' class='c013'><sup>[161]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This, Walpole remarks, was a worthy contrast
-to Archbishop Laud, who made a Star Chamber
-business of a man’s breaking some painted glass
-in the cathedral at Salisbury. Times were
-changed; Laud, however, looked on the offence
-as an indication of a spirit of destruction and
-irreverence;--unhappily, he was right.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Such was the fate of Buckingham’s pictures: a
-brief notice of the proceedings which dispersed
-the far more valuable collection of the King must
-not be omitted. Immediately after Charles’s
-death, votes were passed for the sale of his
-pictures, statues, jewels, and “hangings.” It
-was then ordered that inventories should be
-made, and commissioners be appointed to
-appraise, secure, and inventory the said goods.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>Cromwell, to his honour, attempted to stop the
-dispersion of these valuables; but he had matters
-of even greater importance to engage his
-attention, and the sale, about the year 1650,
-appears, as far as the paintings were concerned,
-to have been completed. From that time no
-further mention of them is to be found in the
-Journals of the House of Commons.<a id='r162' /><a href='#f162' class='c013'><sup>[162]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>All the furniture from the ill-fated King’s
-different palaces was brought up, and exposed for
-sale; and, as far as relates to the jewels, plate,
-and furniture, the affair was not concluded until
-1653. It must, indeed, have been a melancholy
-sight. Cromwell, through his agent, was one of
-the principal purchasers. The price of each
-article was fixed, but, if any one offered a higher
-sum, preference was given. Cromwell, who resided
-alternately at Whitehall and Hampton
-Court, bought the Cartoons for 300<em>l.</em> The order
-against “superstitious” pieces was not, it seems,
-strictly observed; for a painting of Vandyck’s,
-“Mary, our Lord, and Angels,” sold for 40<em>l.</em><a id='r163' /><a href='#f163' class='c013'><sup>[163]</sup></a> The
-celebrated portrait of George, the second Duke
-of Buckingham, and his mother, by Vandyck,
-one of the finest productions of that master, was
-valued at 30<em>l.</em>, and sold for 50<em>l.</em> Many of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>finest pictures were bought by Mons. Jabach, a
-native of Cologne, settled in Paris, who sold his
-collection afterwards to Louis XIV. “The Entombment,”
-by Titian, which he secured, and
-“Christ and the Disciples at Emmaus,” are in the
-Louvre. Amongst the pictures in the Mantua
-collection, was the large “Holy Trinity;” it was
-bought by De Cardenas, the Spanish Ambassador;
-and on its arrival Philip IV. exclaimed, "That is
-my pearl"--and the picture has, ever since, been
-known by that name.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There were, also, valuable allegorical sketches
-by Correggio, which are among the valuable collection
-of drawings and designs in the Louvre.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Imperial Gallery of the Palace Belvedere,
-in Vienna, contains several fine pictures from
-the Whitehall collection. They were bought
-at the sale by the Archduke Leopold William,
-Governor of the Netherlands, and afterwards
-Emperor of Austria. Reynst, an eminent Dutch
-connoisseur, Christina, Queen of Sweden, and
-Cardinal Mazarin, were amongst the purchasers--but
-bought still more largely of the jewels, medals,
-tapestry, carpets, embroidery--many of which
-went to adorn Mazarin’s palace in Paris. Bathazar
-Gerbier, and other painters, also purchased
-pictures--and thus, by their aid, and that of
-some few Englishmen, the wreck of this noble
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>collection may still be traced in this country, but
-the greater portion was lost to it for ever. Some
-miniatures were restored;--the States-General,
-during the reign of Charles II., bought back the
-pictures formerly sold to Reynst, and presented
-them to Charles II.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>By the exertions of that monarch, seventy of
-the best paintings that his father had possessed
-again adorned his various Palaces. St. James’s,
-Hampton Court, and Windsor were enriched with
-the works of those masters in whose productions
-Charles I. had so greatly delighted. But in Whitehall,
-the gallery of which was hung with the
-works of Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Titian,
-Correggio, Vandyck, Holbein, Rubens, and many
-others, had been deposited the finest specimens of
-their works. England seems fated never to contain
-a collection suitable to her wealth, her intelligence,
-and her wishes--for in 1697 that ancient
-palace, so often partially burnt, was destroyed
-by fire; and within its old walls and many chambers
-perished the various collections of Charles II.,
-both of pictures, medals, and sculpture.<a id='r164' /><a href='#f164' class='c013'><sup>[164]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Charles I., like all good judges of art, was
-extremely careful of his pictures. Hitherto the
-Court revels had been held in that famous
-gallery which Charles II. afterwards debased
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>into a resort for gamblers and infamous women of
-rank; and the Banqueting-house was next appropriated
-to them. But during the Christmas of
-1637, when two masques were to be performed,
-the King being one of the chief dancers, a building,
-the mere boarding of which cost two thousand
-five hundred pounds, was erected in the main
-court at Whitehall, because the King would not
-have “his pictures in the Banqueting-house
-burnt with lights.”<a id='r165' /><a href='#f165' class='c013'><sup>[165]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The noble portrait by Vandyck, of Charles on
-horseback, was reclaimed from Seemput, a
-painter, who had bought it at the sale; and some
-few paintings which Catherine of Braganza had
-coolly shipped off to Lisbon, were stopped by
-the Lord Chamberlain in their embarkation.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>When the convulsions under which the
-country groaned had ceased, and on the arrival
-of the Restoration, the nobility, though not
-encouraged by the reigning monarch, introduced
-the custom of adorning their country seats with
-paintings. “But the pure and elevated taste,” as
-Dr. Waagen expresses it, “of Charles I. had
-degenerated; the names of famous masters were
-indeed to be found, but not their works.”<a id='r166' /><a href='#f166' class='c013'><sup>[166]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Architecture and sculpture were also arts
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>which owe infinitely to the judicious patronage of
-Charles, assisted by Buckingham. Among the
-Mantua collection was a whole army “of old
-foreign emperors, captains, and senators,” whom
-Charles I., as Walpole tells us, “caused to land on
-his coasts, to come and do him homage, and
-attend him in his palace of St. James’s and
-Somerset House.”<a id='r167' /><a href='#f167' class='c013'><sup>[167]</sup></a> But the King also discerned
-and rewarded native genius; and when he
-planned the noblest palace in the world at Whitehall,
-sent for no foreign architect, but summoned
-Inigo Jones to his service.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“England,” says Walpole, “adopted Holbein
-and Vandyck; she borrowed Rubens; she produced
-Inigo Jones.” Originally a joiner, Jones
-was brought out of obscurity, according to many
-accounts, by the patron who first extended a
-hand to assist George Villiers in his struggles
-in life. William Earl of Pembroke was the
-friend alike of the young courtier and of the son
-of the clothworker--the immortal Inigo. Either
-by the Earl of Arundel or by Pembroke--it
-is not certain which--Inigo was sent to Italy
-to learn landscape-painting; but at Rome he soon
-discovered the inclination and bent of his genius.
-It is of no use to stop the pure and flowing
-stream, and thus to make it turbid. Inigo “laid
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>down his pencil, and conceived Whitehall.”
-Nature had not, he felt, destined him to decorate
-cabinets; his vocation was to build palaces. He
-was, however, still in danger of living in remote
-splendour. Christian III. enticed him to Copenhagen,
-whence James I. sent for him, and whence
-he was brought to be the Queen’s architect in
-Scotland. Patronized by Prince Henry, he was
-in despair at the death of that royal youth, and
-went again to Italy. It was in the interval
-between his two journeys to Rome that he perpetrated
-some buildings in bad taste; to which
-the appellation of “King James’s Gothic” was
-affixed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His first task, as Surveyor of the Works, to
-which office James appointed him, was to build,
-for twenty pounds, a scaffolding, when the Earl
-and Countess of Somerset were arraigned; his
-next, to discover, by King James’s pedantic mandate,
-who were the founders of Stonehenge.
-In 1619, he was entrusted with the direction of
-the Banqueting-house at Whitehall, which was
-finished in two years, and ordered to draw up a
-plan for the whole structure.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Horace Walpole, who was a true royalist whenever
-the arts were concerned, if not slyly in every
-other respect, thus speaks of that great but vain
-effort to build in London a palace worthy of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>country. “The whole fabric,” he says, referring
-to Jones’s designs for Whitehall, “was so glorious
-an idea, that one forgets in a moment, in the
-regret for its not being executed, the confirmation
-of our liberties obtained by a melancholy
-scene that passed before the windows of that
-very Banqueting-house.”<a id='r168' /><a href='#f168' class='c013'><sup>[168]</sup></a> The misfortunes of
-this eminent man now began. Inigo Jones was a
-Roman Catholic, and, as such, was peculiarly
-obnoxious to the Parliament party. His very
-name, too, was mingled with associations of those
-arts and that magnificence, which, from being the
-cause of envy, were now the objects of detestation
-to certain of the people. “Painting had now,”
-says Walpole, “become idolatry; monuments
-were deemed carnal pride, and a venerable cathedral
-seemed equally contradictory to Magna
-Charta and the Bible.” Even the statue of
-Charles at Charing Cross was regarded as of ill-omen,
-and taken away lest it should bring back
-unpleasant recollections.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“The Parliament did vote it down,</div>
- <div class='line'>And thought it very fitting,</div>
- <div class='line'>Lest it should fall and kill them all,</div>
- <div class='line'>In the house where they were sitting.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>It had become a matter of wonder that society
-could ever have tolerated those masques patronized
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>by James, by Charles, and by Buckingham,
-in which the masks, costumes, and scenes
-were designed by Jones, and the poetry written
-by Jonson. These representations had been
-indeed interrupted by the quarrel between Inigo
-Jones and Ben Jonson; and in the civil war
-they ceased entirely. With the royal family
-and their followers literature and the arts were
-banished; they were restored with the monarchy,
-but good taste was not revived. “The history of
-destruction” superseded that reign of elegance and
-learning which had a brief duration under Charles,
-and which, whilst Buckingham was at the head
-of affairs, was the main-spring of every impulse.
-“Ruin was the harvest of the Puritans, and they
-gleaned after the reformers.” Of course vengeance
-fell on the unfortunate royal architect and
-stage manager, Inigo Jones. His face had been
-seen at every gorgeous revel; his hand was
-traceable in many a country seat, even in the
-picturesque college of St. John’s at Oxford; he
-had designed the chapel of Henrietta Maria at
-St. James’s; he had erected the arcade and
-church of Covent Garden: every familiar scene
-was haunted with his presence.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The party that condemned him felt neither
-gratitude nor pity; two years before the King’s
-death, he was fined 500<em>l.</em> for malignancy. Afraid
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>of a sequestration of all his revenues, he is stated to
-have buried his money, as did Stone, the painter,
-in Scotland Yard; and to have removed it, when
-fearful of discovery, to Lambeth Marsh. He
-lived to see Cromwell occupy Whitehall, which
-he had hoped to renovate; and to hear that
-Charles had suffered beneath the very windows of
-that fine and perfect fragment of a palace which
-was still, in spite of all the terrors of that execution,
-called the Banqueting-house; he lived to be
-called “Iniquity Jones,” by the successor of that
-Earl of Pembroke who had once been his generous
-patron; he lived to learn that the wit, the
-poetry, the scenery that had combined to render
-the masques at Burleigh a feast not only for the
-senses, but for the intellect, were construed into
-heathenism. All gallantry and romance were
-gone--and gone for ever; wit, indeed, flourished
-after the Restoration, but it was wit without
-decency or feeling. The old man must have felt
-that he had lived too long. Somerset House had
-been with great difficulty saved from the destruction
-of the Parliamentary decree; it gave poor
-Inigo, who still appears to have nominally held his
-former office, a refuge wherein he could lay down
-his head and die. He was buried in the church of
-St. Bennet, at Paul’s Wharf; a monument
-erected there to his memory was destroyed in the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>Fire of London, and the great architect of the
-Banqueting-house remains without any memorial,
-save the works of his genius.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Vandyck was not settled in England, under the
-patronage of Charles I., until after the death of
-Buckingham. Mytens, whose position as the
-King’s principal painter was, as he believed,
-encroached on by the celebrity of Vandyck, was
-patronized by Buckingham, for whom he painted
-a portrait of Sir Jeffrey Hudson.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This little wonder of the seventeenth century
-was nine years old only at the Duke’s death. He had
-been domesticated at Burleigh on account of his
-diminutive stature, which did not, at that time,
-exceed seven or eight inches. Jeffrey was the
-plaything of the Court: at the marriage-feast of
-Charles I., the Duchess of Buckingham had him
-inserted in a cold pie, and served up at table to
-the Queen, by way of presenting him to the
-royal bride, who took him in her lap, and kept
-him. Until the age of thirty, this little personage
-never grew. He then suddenly shot up three
-feet nine inches, which he carried off with
-infinite dignity, and remained at that height. He
-was still the butt of all the idlers at Whitehall,
-and the theme of a poem, by Davenant, called
-“Jeffresdos,” the subject being a battle between
-the dwarf and a turkey-cock.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>Henceforth he became important--went over
-to France on a mission of great confidence,
-to fetch an experienced <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>sage-femme</em></span> for the
-Queen--was taken by the Pirates off Dunkirk on
-his return--was rescued, only to encounter the
-incessant raillery of the courtiers, which, to a man
-of his present size and importance, became exasperating.
-Faithful and trusty, he went with
-Henrietta Maria into France, and there, being
-goaded on by renewed insults from a Mr. Crofts,
-sent a challenge. Crofts came to fight him provided
-only with a squirt; the duel was to be on
-horseback, and with pistols, that Jeffrey, or, as he
-had now become, Sir Jeffrey, might be more on a
-level with his antagonist. By the first shot, Crofts
-was struck dead. The next event in this adventurous
-life was the capture of Jeffrey by a
-Turkish rover, during one of his voyages; he was
-sold as a slave, and taken into Barbary; he was,
-however, ransomed, or set free, so as to resume
-his attendance on the Queen. After the Restoration,
-he was suspected of being concerned in the
-Popish plot, and confined in the Gate House at
-Westminster. Here, a life that had been rendered
-worthy of record even by his very littleness
-was closed, in 1682; his old enemy, a gigantic
-porter at Whitehall in Charles’s time, with whom
-the little creature was in incessant strife, having
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>long since been displaced--and another giant,
-Oliver Cromwell’s porter, established in his stead.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>On Mytens the office of his Majesty’s “picture-drawer
-in ordinary, with a fee of 20<em>l.</em> per annum,
-was conferred in 1625, procured by the agency
-of Endymion Porter, who was the servant and
-relative of Buckingham, from the Duke.”<a id='r169' /><a href='#f169' class='c013'><sup>[169]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Incited by the example of the Earl of Arundel,
-who employed a Mr. Petty to collect antiquities
-in Greece, Buckingham despatched for the same
-purpose Sir Thomas Roe, telling him, in explaining
-his wishes, that “he was not so fond of
-antiquity as to court it in a deformed or unshapen
-stone.”<a id='r170' /><a href='#f170' class='c013'><sup>[170]</sup></a> Lord Arundel had begun to “transplant
-old Greece into England.” His agent, Petty,
-was indefatigable, “eating with Greeks on their
-work days, and lying with fishermen with planks,”
-so that he might obtain his ends. This valiant
-antiquary lost all his curiosities on returning from
-Samos, and was imprisoned as a spy, but, regaining
-his liberty, set forth again to his researches
-with the energy of a Layard.<a id='r171' /><a href='#f171' class='c013'><sup>[171]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>The principal medallist in the time of Charles I.
-was Andrew Vanderdort, a Dutchman, also
-patronized by Prince Henry. Upon the accession
-of Charles, Vanderdort was made keeper of
-the King’s cabinet of medals, with a salary of
-40<em>l.</em> This cabinet or museum was contained in a
-room in Whitehall, running across from the
-Thames towards the Banqueting-house, and
-fronting the gardens westward. By Vanderdort
-the coins of the realm were designed; and to the
-commission to perform that work was added an
-injunction that he should superintend the
-engravers. To Vanderdort was once confided the
-preparing of the catalogue of the Royal collection,
-written in bad English, and preserved
-in the Ashmolean Museum, at Oxford.
-It is related of him, that, being entrusted
-with a miniature by Gibson, the “Parable of
-the Lost Sheep,” he laid it up so carefully, that,
-when asked for it by the King, he could not find
-it, and hung himself from grief.<a id='r172' /><a href='#f172' class='c013'><sup>[172]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was owing to the suggestions of Buckingham
-that the great portrait-painter, Gerard Honthorst,
-was invited by Charles I. to England. Honthorst
-of Oxford.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>was a native of Utrecht, but had completed his
-education at Rome. He had many pupils in
-painting of high rank, and amongst them were
-Elizabeth of Bohemia and her daughters, the
-Princess Sophia, mother of George I., and the
-Princess Louisa, afterwards Abbess of Maubissen,
-being the most apt scholars of that family.
-It was owing to the early culture of the arts which
-both the sons of James I. had enjoyed, that it
-became an easy task for Buckingham to incite
-Charles to the patronage of great masters in afterlife.
-Solomon de Caus, a Gascon, was the instructor
-of Prince Henry, and probably of Charles,
-who inherited the pictures and statues which his
-brother had collected. Honthorst probably improved
-by his lessons the taste that had been
-already so well cultivated. At Hampton Court,
-a large picture on the staircase sometimes rivets
-attention, without conferring pleasure--for the
-taste for allegorical paintings has long since been
-extinct. It delineates Charles and his Queen as
-Apollo and Diana in the clouds; the Duke of
-Buckingham, as Mercury, is introducing them to
-the Arts and Sciences, whilst genii are driving
-away Envy and Malice. This, and other paintings,
-were completed by Honthorst in six months;
-the King giving him three thousand florins, a
-service of silver plate for twelve persons, and a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>horse. He also painted portraits of the Duke
-and Duchess of Buckingham, sitting with their
-two children; and it was likewise the Duke’s
-fancy to have a large picture by him, representing
-a tooth-drawer, with many figures introduced
-around the operation.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Horatio Gentileschi, a native of Pisá, was one
-of those who contributed alike to the collection
-of Charles and to the glories of York House, which,
-long before Buckingham’s death, had, we are
-told, become the admiration of the world.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Gentileschi was treated with a degree of liberality
-that was quite congenial to the feelings of
-Buckingham: he was invited to England, and
-rooms were provided for his use, and a considerable
-salary advanced to him. Some of the painted
-ceilings in Greenwich Palace were his work; and
-he ornamented York House in a similar manner.
-When it was dismantled, one of the ceilings
-was transplanted to Buckingham House, in St.
-James’s Park, the seat of Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham.
-He also painted the Villiers family, and,
-by the Duke’s order, a Magdalen, lying in a
-grotto, contemplating a skull--a strange subject
-for the worldly and high-spirited Buckingham to
-select. But the delight of Charles and of his
-favourite was Nicholas Lanière, meritorious as a
-painter, engraver, and musician. It was Lanière
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>who composed the music for some of Ben Jonson’s
-masques, in recitative. Lanière, after the death
-of Charles, set to music a funeral hymn written
-by Thomas Pierce. As a composer, he was
-salaried by Charles with two hundred a-year.
-He had, however, also painted pictures for King
-James; and it is stated that Buckingham, not
-being able to induce that monarch to reward
-him adequately, gave Lanière three hundred
-pounds at one time, and five hundred at another,
-from his own means.<a id='r173' /><a href='#f173' class='c013'><sup>[173]</sup></a> Lanière had been instrumental
-in the negociation for the Mantua collection.
-After the death of Charles he was one of
-those painters who viewed with deep concern the
-dispersion of the Whitehall collection; and
-bought several pictures at the sale of what he had
-contributed to enrich.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst ceilings were painted, pictures distributed
-on richly-carved panels, and in spacious
-galleries, there was even an attempt in those
-days to decorate with frescoes the exterior of
-houses, as in Bavaria, where even the dwellings
-of superior farmers are sometimes adorned in that
-manner. Francis Cleyn, a Dane, was called to
-England in the reign of James I., in order to improve
-also the manufacture of tapestry at Mortlake,
-to which James had contributed two thousand
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>pounds. Hitherto, Sir Francis Crane, the proprietor,
-had worked only on old patterns; Cleyn
-brought new and original designs to the aid of
-the tapestry-workers. Five of the cartoons were
-sent by Charles to be copied. Cleyn also painted
-the outside of Wimbledon House in fresco; he
-designed one of the chimney-pieces in Holland
-House, and gave the drawings for two chairs,
-carved and gilt, with shells for backs, still there.
-In every possible department art was called
-into play. Drawings for the great seals were made
-by Cleyn. He published books for “carvers and
-goldsmiths.” Nothing was to be tasteless, clumsy,
-or inappropriate; and, with this spirit abroad, it
-is not surprising that the little that the Rebellion
-spared should be models for our own conservative
-generation.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whilst Villiers employed portrait-painters on
-himself and on his family, he did not forget the
-old man at Brookesby, long since gone to the
-grave. Cornelius Jansen, by his order, painted a
-portrait of his father; probably from some family
-picture. It was in the possession of Horace Walpole,
-“less handsome,” he says, “but extremely
-like his son.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The patronage extended by Charles I. to architects<a id='r174' /><a href='#f174' class='c013'><sup>[174]</sup></a>
-was often directed by Buckingham; for the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>King and the favourite had but one soul between
-them. To exalt and improve the art of painting,
-they summoned foreign architects as well as painters
-to England, remunerated them liberally, and treated
-them with the courtesy due to one of the noblest of
-professions. Charles delighted to dabble with his
-brush on the canvas, his hand directed by the master,
-with whom he sat for hours. Buckingham’s few
-leisure days were devoted to his buildings and
-paintings. Amongst the English builders who
-worked at the Banqueting-house, under Inigo
-Jones, was Nicholas Stone, who was in 1619 appointed
-master-mason to the King, at the usual
-salary, of twelve pence a-day; but the extra work
-he executed for Charles was amply paid; and his
-salary during the two years he worked at Whitehall
-amounted to four shillings and tenpence the
-day.<a id='r175' /><a href='#f175' class='c013'><sup>[175]</sup></a> Nicholas Stone designed four of the dials
-at St. James’s and Whitehall.<a id='r176' /><a href='#f176' class='c013'><sup>[176]</sup></a> He rebuilt the
-fountains at Theobald’s and Nonsuch; his drawings
-are, it is to be feared, lost. He was the statuary
-employed by the Countess of Dorset to set up at
-Westminster the monument of Spenser the poet,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>for which he was paid forty pounds. His great
-talent lay in tombs; amongst others, he erected
-one for the Countess of Buckingham, the Duke’s
-mother, three years after her son’s death, in 1631,
-in Westminster Abbey, for which he received 560<em>l.</em>
-Doubtless, therefore, he was continually employed
-by Buckingham, and Stone’s various performances
-must have been just what the Duke required. He
-was the modest architect, who did not disdain to
-form and chisel the piers for gates--Inigo Jones
-designing them,--at Holland House. He built the
-great gate of St. Mary’s Church at Oxford, and
-the stone gates for the Physic Garden in that
-city,--also designed by Inigo. The figure of the
-Nile at Somerset House was by Stone; his skill,
-like that of Inigo, is familiar to us, though we may
-almost have forgotten the hand that had so much
-“cunning.” At York House, at Wanstead, New
-Hall and Burleigh, his fine face, with his love-locks,
-his plain collar, and tight doublet, were, we
-may be sure, often to be seen before ruin and
-desertion darkened those once splendid homes of
-Villiers.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Few men, it must be acknowledged, in so
-brief a space, have done more for the arts
-in this country than George Villiers. By
-Charles, his friend and sovereign, who
-survived him twenty years, much more was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>effected. Without their unceasing efforts, without
-even the almost pardonable extravagance that
-was directed to purposes so refined, England
-would almost have been devoid of paintings by
-the greatest masters, and, what would be almost
-worse, destitute of the love and reverence for
-high art which has come down to us from the time
-of Charles I., and which is now cherished, though
-unconsciously, in the breast of the poor artisan, as
-in that of the richest peer or commoner. The
-crowds who not only throng, but enjoy, the
-galleries of Hampton Court--and, still more, the
-humble visitors from the Faubourg St. Antoine
-and the Marais to the Louvre, on Sundays, in
-Paris--prove that a love of what is true and holy,
-and even sublime, in pictures, exists intuitively
-in the uncultivated mind, as well as in the highest
-intelligence of the soul. Those who called from
-its latent recesses this love of art in the seventeenth
-century are greatly entitled to the gratitude
-of that age to which the luxuries of music
-and painting are become necessities.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c021'>PATRONAGE OF THE DRAMA BY CHARLES AND THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM--MASSINGER--BEN JONSON--THEIR CONNECTION WITH THE COURT, AND WITH THE DUKE.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span><span class='large'>CHAPTER V.</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c022'>After considering the benefits conferred by
-Charles I. and his favourite on art, and detailing
-their patronage of eminent masters, one
-turns, naturally, to the literature of the day, and
-more especially--as subsidiary to music and
-painting--to the drama.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The accession of James I. opened fairer prospects
-to dramatists than they had enjoyed in the
-days of Elizabeth, who paid as grudgingly for
-her amusements as for the services of her statesmen.
-To her “Master of the bears and dogs”
-she assigned a salary of a farthing a day only.<a id='r177' /><a href='#f177' class='c013'><sup>[177]</sup></a>
-Yet the office was sometimes held by a Knight;
-and, during the “princely pleasures of Kenilworth,”
-of which bear-baiting formed a prominent
-feature, by no less opulent a person
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>than Edward Alleyn, the actor, and founder of
-Dulwich College. Little but honour, therefore,
-had accrued, in the time of Elizabeth, to poets and
-play-writers; and the struggling authors were
-obliged to have recourse to a more liberal patronage
-than that of the Court--until James I., somewhat
-“of a poet, but more of a scholar,” promoted,
-with an extravagant zeal, the diversions which his
-taste disposed him to enjoy. Plays, which his predecessor
-had deemed likely to draw her younger
-subjects from the manlier recreations of bear-baiting
-and hunting, were patronized in high
-quarters, and were henceforth the fashionable diversions
-notwithstanding the invectives of the
-Puritans, both of the Court, and in the provincial
-castles of the nobility at a distance from London.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Independently of the delights of the masque,
-which comprised both music, dancing, and poetry,
-there were pleasures to be found in the drama
-which accorded with the tendencies and failings
-of that period.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was an age of personality, a disposition
-to which existed as strongly in the unrefined
-court of James, and even among his northern
-retainers, as in the brilliant galleries of Versailles,
-encouraged by Louis XIV., and led by the dangerous
-and witty St. Simon. “The great eye of
-the world,” says an able writer, “was not then,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>any more than now, so intent on things and
-principles as not to have a corner for the infirmities
-of individuals.”<a id='r178' /><a href='#f178' class='c013'><sup>[178]</sup></a> Wilson, Weldon, Winwood,
-Osborne, Peyton, Sanderson, circulated what
-were in many instances fabrications about the
-higher classes; whilst the crimes and absurdities
-of the lower orders were celebrated by the ballad-mongers,
-or dramatized for the stage. Many of
-those ballads transmitted to us, which were
-exempted from the fate of “damn’d ditties,” were
-founded on authentic domestic tragedies, the
-actors in which have long since passed into
-oblivion. The ballad, which afforded the multitude
-a pleasing insight into the fact that their
-superiors were no better than themselves, was the
-most popular literature of the day. Sung to
-doleful tunes, with a nasal twang, they called
-forth the satire of the dramatist, who aimed at a
-higher species of personality, and who deprecated
-these, often scurrilous, productions; which were,
-at length, checked in the time of Swift by the
-imposition of a penny stamp on every loose sheet.
-The ballad was a source of dread to the tavern
-bully, whose iniquities it exposed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“If I have not ballads made of you all, and
-sung to filthy tunes, may this cup of sack be my
-poison,” says Falstaff.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>“Now shall have we damnable ballads out against us,</div>
- <div class='line'>Most wicked madrigals.”</div>
- <div class='line in27'><cite>Humorous Lieutenant.</cite></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Whilst the attention of society was not altogether
-fixed on exalted members only, it was found difficult
-to restrain satire, and even calumny, from
-introducing living characters on the stage, and
-from depicting them with hateful qualities, and in
-invidious situations.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In vain did the Master of the Revels, who was
-under the peculiar influence of the Court,
-endeavour to control the disposition to personality
-which characterized even many of the plays
-acted before James I. and his son. In these
-compositions the public acquired that insight into
-conduct and peculiarities which is now derived
-from periodical papers, or from diaries, letters,
-and autobiographies, in which our age is especially
-fertile.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Amongst the dramatists of James and Charles’s
-reigns, we may take, as the most remarkable,
-Philip Massinger, Ben Jonson, Beaumont and
-Fletcher, and John Ford, the greater part of
-whose works were produced during the life of
-King James and of Charles I. and II.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The biography of each of these celebrated men
-elucidates much of the manners and temper of the
-times, and their history comprises that of this
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>species of literature during the commencement
-and middle of the seventeenth century.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Philip Massinger was the son of Arthur
-Massinger, a retainer in the household of the
-Earl of Pembroke. A retainer was often a
-gentleman of good birth but small means, and
-this was probably the condition of Arthur Massinger,
-who, from his carrying letters from his
-master, the Earl, to Queen Elizabeth, could
-not have been a man of low origin, else he
-would not have been admitted to the honour
-of conveying any dispatch to one who placed so
-much importance on lineage in those who entered
-her presence. That custom was still in force,
-which surrounded a nobleman, not with menials,
-but with a middle-class of bondmen, who thought
-service no degradation. It was esteemed a turn
-of fortune when a youth of gentle birth could be
-introduced into some noble house, to learn therein
-politeness, chivalrous attention to ladies, and to
-imbibe, from example and precept, that loyalty
-which was then considered a sort of virtue. The
-education and training of a page is now confined
-to royal courts; but there were, in England, in
-those days of the Tudors and Stuarts, many
-minor courts, which exacted, in miniature, the
-duties and service that existed in the palaces
-of the monarch. And of those stately and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>wealthy patrons, none were more respected than
-the Herberts, Earls of Pembroke, to whom
-Arthur Massinger wrote himself “Bondman.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>That wholesome discipline which it is difficult
-in our own time for a parent to preserve over his
-family was maintained to the advantage of a
-page who rose from a lowly to a confidential
-situation. Massinger’s lines in the “New Way
-to Pay Old Debts” refer to the subjection under
-which the youth groaned, but to which the matured
-actors on this world’s stage looked back
-with gratitude:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Art thou scarce manumised from the porter’s lodge,</div>
- <div class='line'>And now sworn servant to the pantofle,</div>
- <div class='line'>And darest thou dream of marriage?”</div>
- <div class='line in21'><cite>New Way to Pay Old Debts.</cite></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Yet in this servitude the father of Philip Massinger
-lived and died. These grand establishments,
-in which the noble head saw around him
-none but persons of gentle blood and breeding,
-would long since have ceased to be congenial, even
-if they still existed, to the English notions of independence,
-by which servitude is confounded with
-slavery. But they had this advantage--the son of
-a retainer was supposed to have a claim on the illustrious
-noble, who estimated his father’s fidelity
-and offices; and that this was the case with Philip
-Massinger, might seem probable from the advantages
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>of education which he was enabled to derive;
-and the value of which he had learned to appreciate,
-in the proximity to the really noble and intellectual
-family of Herbert. It appears from
-Philip Massinger’s dedication of the “Bondman,”
-that he never had any personal communication
-with Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery;
-but that is no proof that he may not have been indebted
-for the advantage of a university education
-to the far more intellectual and estimable
-Henry, Earl of Pembroke, his father’s patron, as
-appears from the following passage in the dedication
-of the “Bondman” to the Earl of Montgomery:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“However, I could never arrive at the happiness
-to be made known to your lordship; yet a
-desire born with me, to make a tender of all
-duties and service to the noble family of the
-Herberts, descended to me as an inheritance
-from my dead father, Arthur Massinger. Many
-years he happily spent in the service of your
-honourable house, and died a servant in it, leaving
-his to be ever most glad and ready to be at the
-command of all such as derive themselves from
-his most honoured master, your lordship’s most
-honoured father.”<a id='r179' /><a href='#f179' class='c013'><sup>[179]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It would be agreeable to reflect that Massinger
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>had passed his childhood and youth,
-partly at all events, in the classical region of
-Wilton Castle, which Sir Philip Sidney had
-almost sanctified to the Muses by his presence,
-and whence he had issued forth on that expedition
-in which he died a hero’s death. But
-those were not the days in which the childhood
-and youth of celebrated men were recorded,
-and of Massinger’s not a trace remained.
-We only guess at the early influences which
-formed his imaginative, yet vigorous mind. We
-only conjecture that his taste was directed to
-poetry by the taste of those whom he must have
-learned first to respect. We are not sure, yet
-we are glad to believe, that whilst his mind took
-on afterwards the impressions of the age in which
-he lived, it was in earliest youth incited by the
-author of the “Arcadia,” and by the acquirements
-of her to whom that poem was dedicated, to
-culture and exercise, until circumstances brought
-its powers into full activity.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The dedication of the “Bondman” was written in
-1624; and whilst it shews that the poet had never
-seen Philip, Earl of Montgomery, it does not follow,
-as has been stated, that he was <em>not</em> reared at
-Wilton during the life-time of Henry, Earl of
-Pembroke, the “noble father” of Philip, who, as
-a younger son, was created Earl of Montgomery,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>and long known by that title only. Henry, who
-was succeeded by his eldest son, the second Earl of
-Pembroke, died in 1600; and since Massinger
-was born in 1584, it is extremely probable that
-he passed his childhood at Wilton, although, in
-compliance with the custom of the age, he was
-probably sent out to nurse. Even the name of
-his mother is unknown. Few authors of so much
-merit as Massinger have been, as Hartley Coleridge
-observes, “so little noticed by contemporaries;”
-and none so soon forgotten by succeeding times.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There can, however, be but little doubt that
-Philip Massinger imbibed at Wilton that value
-for letters which is so soon caught by children
-from the society of the intellectual; and that a
-gentler influence than that of Earl Henry stimulated
-the natural inclinations of his mind. A
-learned education for women of rank was in
-vogue for nearly a century after the Reformation:
-with Protestantism came in the notion that the
-female understanding was worthy of high cultivation;
-and our earliest and most superior
-women, in those times, were prepared for their
-important part in life by a sound and almost
-masculine training. Witness the learning of Lady
-Jane Grey, of Queen Elizabeth, of Joanna,
-Lady Abergavenny, whom Walpole believes to
-have been the “foundress of that noble school of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>female learning, of which (with herself) there were,”
-he says, “no less than four authoresses in the three
-descents.”<a id='r180' /><a href='#f180' class='c013'><sup>[180]</sup></a> Among the learned and the virtuous
-none was more esteemed in her time than Mary, the
-sister of Sir Philip Sidney, and the third wife of
-Henry, Earl of Pembroke, the son of Arthur Massinger’s
-patron. She was one of those ornaments of
-her age who added lustre to her station without forfeiting
-one feminine attribute. What was then
-called a “polite education” comprised not only the
-acquisition of light literature, but that also of classical
-learning. From her mother, Lady Mary Dudley,
-this admirable woman inherited a noble and congenial
-spirit; from her father, Sir Henry Sidney, surpassing
-abilities, moral excellencies, enlarged views,
-generous motives. That father, superior to the
-venal courtiers of his time, spent his whole fortune
-in his endeavours to benefit Ireland and Wales,
-of the affairs of which he held the administration.
-In her brother, Sir Philip Sidney, the Countess of
-Pembroke found a companion in all her pursuits,
-as well as in affection. Hence, as Spenser wrote,
-their minds grew in unison:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“The gentlest shepherdess that liv’d that day,</div>
- <div class='line'>And most resembling, both in shape and spirit,</div>
- <div class='line'>Her brother dear.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>In conjunction with him, this gifted woman is
-said to have translated the Psalms;<a id='r181' /><a href='#f181' class='c013'><sup>[181]</sup></a> of which
-effort Daniel says:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Those hymns which thou dost consecrate to Heaven,</div>
- <div class='line'>Which Israel’s singer to his God did frame,</div>
- <div class='line'>Unto thy voyage eternity hath given,</div>
- <div class='line'>And makes thee dear to Him from whence they came.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Several of these are extant; one of them was
-published in the <cite>Guardian</cite>;<a id='r182' /><a href='#f182' class='c013'><sup>[182]</sup></a> and it corresponds
-with a Psalm printed in the “<cite>Nugæ Antiquæ</cite>” as
-the Countess of Pembroke’s.<a id='r183' /><a href='#f183' class='c013'><sup>[183]</sup></a> It has been regretted
-that these productions are not authorized
-to be sung in churches; for the present version,
-Mr. Hartley Coleridge remarks, “is a disgrace
-and a mischief to the establishment.” These
-translations are preserved in the library at
-Wilton.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Countess was residing there when the
-“Discourse of Life and Death,” by Mornay, which
-she translated from the French, was printed.
-This was in 1590, when Philip Massinger was
-six years of age. She survived until 1621; and,
-since she extended her patronage both to arts
-and letters, it is probable that she not only
-befriended Ben Jonson, but that she encouraged
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>and assisted the struggling dramatist, whose
-father had been so favoured or retained in her
-husband’s house. Ben Jonson’s well-known lines
-on her tomb have challenged various criticisms.
-Whilst by some they are deemed a tribute “which
-have never been exceeded in the records of
-monumental praise,”<a id='r184' /><a href='#f184' class='c013'><sup>[184]</sup></a> by another critic they
-are considered “too hyperbolical, too clever, and
-too conceited to be inscribed on a Christian’s
-tomb.”<a id='r185' /><a href='#f185' class='c013'><sup>[185]</sup></a></p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Underneath this marble hearse</div>
- <div class='line'>Lies the subject of all verse--</div>
- <div class='line'>Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother;</div>
- <div class='line'>Death, ere thou canst find another,</div>
- <div class='line'>Learned, and fair, and good as she,</div>
- <div class='line'>Time shall throw a dart at thee.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>At all events, Massinger imbibed from his
-father’s connection with the Herbert family, one
-taste--that for theatricals. Amongst the retinue of
-the great peer, was a company of itinerant performers,
-“the Earl of Pembroke’s players;” and
-though the childhood of Massinger is indeed a
-blank, it maybe inferred that the attractions of the
-theatre, or rather of the hall, in which that portion
-of the Earl’s household must have been frequently
-occupied, were such as to fascinate a boy of an
-imaginative turn of mind. He is stated to have
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>been shy, melancholy, retiring, and studious;
-that he received a classical education, as a
-boy, is also stated; but when that education
-was received, who directed that thoughtful and
-dreamy mind to poetry, or how he, who was
-evidently designed for a scholastic career, should
-have devoted himself to the profession of a play-writer,
-does not appear to have been ascertained,
-even by the indefatigable Gilford.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But it was an age of great mental energy, and
-there was sufficient in the rich harvest won by
-Shakspeare, or in the rare delights afforded by
-his works, to account for the direction of young
-Massinger’s genius.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It has been conjectured, also, that he acted occasionally
-in those plays the parts of which were
-then usually sustained by boys: of this there
-remains not a single proof, and nothing is <em>certain</em>,
-in so far as the events of his youth are concerned,
-except that he was entered at St. Alban’s Hall,
-Oxford, in 1601-2.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It must not be supposed that this fact at all implied
-what in the present day it might appear to
-indicate. It did not follow that Massinger was
-to enter one of the learned professions, because
-he became a commoner in that small, ancient
-society of St. Alban’s Hall; nor was it a proof
-that the young man had parents who were in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>affluent circumstances, as a University career now
-seems to imply. Oxford was then a place for
-cheap education, and many of the “poor scholars”
-at the various colleges underwent, as Strype
-shews us, great hardships. On the other hand, it
-was not uncommon for the profession of letters
-to be in those days a man’s only calling; and an
-academical training was his best commencement
-in that arduous course, since a certain display of
-erudition was undoubtedly one of the characteristics
-of the period.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The exhibition to college was, according to
-Anthony Wood, given to Massinger by the Earl
-of Pembroke; but others allege that Massinger
-derived the means of subsistence at Oxford from
-his father.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In those schools, where a man for the first,
-and perhaps for the only, time in his existence,
-frames his own success, independently of the patronage
-of others--in those schools, famed for
-strict impartiality, and where the battle is really
-to the strong--Massinger, nevertheless, did not
-appear. He left Oxford without taking his degree;
-for he had made the mistake, fatal to a
-poor man, who has to rest upon the endowments
-of that grand old university for his support, of
-not adopting the studies which the university prescribes
-to the exclusion of others. It was, indeed,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>a sin in the eyes of that zealous antiquary,
-whose tomb, in a corner of the anti-chapel of
-Merton College, is so often overlooked, save by
-those who honour his labours, and who view his
-merits, thus enshrined, with regretful reverence--that
-he gave his mind, as Anthony Wood tells
-us, “more to poetry or romance, for about four
-years or more, than to logic and philosophy, which
-he ought to have done, as he was patronized <em>to
-that end</em>.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He adds, without further comment than this,
-“that, being sufficiently famed for several specimens
-of wit, he betook himself to writing plays.”
-Massinger left Oxford in 1606--he was then
-twenty-two years of age.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>For some time his history is again a blank, and
-his exertions and struggles, whatever they may
-have been, fell upon a serious, religious, thoughtful
-temperament, devoid of the elasticity with
-which Shakespeare fought and conquered the
-trials of fate. Play-writing was, at that time, almost
-the only means by which ready money
-could be obtained, and had the patronage of the
-Court in full activity, when Massinger cast himself
-into his future and only career. James I.,
-soon after his accession, licensed the company of
-players who had hitherto been styled the “Lord
-Chamberlain’s,” but who were henceforth to be
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>called "the King’s servants"--amongst whom
-were Shakspeare, Burbage, Heminge, and others.
-Queen Anne adopted the “Earl of Worcester’s
-company,” and Prince Henry that of the Earl of
-Nottingham, the hero of the “Armada.” The
-Court, and even provincial nobles and gentry,
-although Protestantized, kept, with as scrupulous
-attention as ever, the great feasts of the Church;
-and on these, as in former times a mystery or
-morality was given, so now a play was often performed.
-“The stage,” says Hartley Coleridge,
-“was evoking and realizing the finest imaginations
-of the strongest intellects.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whether Massinger ever acted or not, is as
-doubtful as every other incident of his early life.
-It was not until 1614 that a glimmering of his
-actual condition in life is seen through the darkness,
-and the disclosure is melancholy and discouraging.
-There is something touching, as well as
-dreary, in the gloom that one can only diversify
-with scenes of penury and imprisonment for debt.
-At last the light breaks out; and, in the words of
-the following appeal, the history of some years of
-disappointment is disclosed:--<a id='r186' /><a href='#f186' class='c013'><sup>[186]</sup></a></p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span></div>
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c028'>"To our most loving friend, Mr. Philip Hinchlow, Esquire, these,--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Mr. Hinchlow--You understand our unfortunate
-extremitye, and I doe not thinke you so
-void of cristianitee but that you would throw
-so much money into the Thames as wee request
-now of you, rather than endanger so many innocent
-lives. You know there is X<em>l.</em> more at least
-to be receaved of you for the play. We desire
-you to lend us V<em>l.</em> of that; which shall be allowed
-to you, without which we cannot be bayled nor I
-play any more till this be dispatch’d. It will lose
-you XX<em>l.</em> ere the end of the next weeke, besides
-the hindrance of the next new play. Pray, sir,
-consider our cases with humanity, and now give
-us cause to acknowledge you our true friend in
-time of neede. Wee have entreated Mr. Davison
-to deliver this note, as well as witness your love
-as our promises and always acknowledgement to
-be ever your most thankful and loving friends,<a id='r187' /><a href='#f187' class='c013'><sup>[187]</sup></a></p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>”<span class='sc'>Philip Massinger</span>.</div>
- <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>R. Davison.</span></div>
- <div class='line'>”<span class='sc'>Nat. Field.</span>"</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>This letter is the only one with the signature of
-Philip Massinger extant. It was addressed to a
-pawnbroker--such was Philip Hinchlow, who,
-besides exercising that ancient profession, was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>also engaged in theatrical speculations, his advances
-being chiefly made upon the wearing
-apparel and properties, of which he acquired a
-large portion in this way. “A comfortable sort
-of person,” remarks Hartley Coleridge, “for
-three poets to be obliged to.” Especially when
-they, as it were, pledged to him the labour of
-their brains; and that when they were either
-already in prison, or afraid of that crisis in their
-miserable destiny. Nathaniel Field, the writer
-of this letter, was Massinger’s partner in the production
-of the “Fatal Dowry;” he had a share
-in the Globe and Blackfriar’s Theatres, in conjunction
-with Burbage, the original <cite>Richard III.</cite>,
-<cite>Hamlet</cite>, and <cite>Othello</cite>; and with Lowin, the
-original <cite>Falstaff</cite>. Field was also an actor,
-and he performed in Ben Jonson’s masque,
-“Cynthia’s Revels,” in 1600, when he appeared
-as one of the children of the Queen’s chapel.
-Robert Daborne was a man of good descent, a
-scholar and a clergyman, although the author of
-several plays; nor was he the only clerical dramatist
-in an age which was, indeed, "not an
-innocent one"--for Cartwright, also a play-writer,
-was a divine, and, as Fuller states, “a
-florid and seraphical preacher.”<a id='r188' /><a href='#f188' class='c013'><sup>[188]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It has been remarked that the “Fatal Dowry”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>was like the production of a man in debt. Massinger
-might refer to his own case when he
-wrote:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in12'>“I will not take</div>
- <div class='line'>One single piece of this great heap. Why should I</div>
- <div class='line'>Borrow that I have no means to pay; nay, am</div>
- <div class='line'>A very bankrupt, even in flattering hope,</div>
- <div class='line'>Of ever raising any.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c027'>In addition to his poverty, to hard work, and the
-degradation of debt, Massinger was fully conscious
-that he had not, in giving up the certainty
-of a profession, attained a position in society.
-The dramatist’s occupation was scarcely, in those
-times, considered a creditable employment.<a id='r189' /><a href='#f189' class='c013'><sup>[189]</sup></a> By
-the Puritans it was deemed sinful--by learned
-men, idle and trifling; and although lawyers and
-academicians, courtiers and ladies, and even the
-Queen and Princes of the blood, took the conspicuous
-parts, there was still a certain disrepute
-attached to the very instruments by means of
-which the stage was brought into what is justly
-called its “palmiest state.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There were perhaps various reasons for the
-slow success of Massinger as a dramatist, and for
-that adverse fate the bitterness of which breaks
-forth in all his works. The age was Puritan;
-and he was supposed to have exchanged the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>Protestant principles with which he had entered
-Oxford for Romanist opinions--or rather, what
-we should now term Tractarian. That he may
-have been, as Mr. Gifford infers, from his leaving
-Oxford without a degree, a Roman Catholic, is
-borne out by no fact, although seemingly attested
-by the subjects of his plays--the “Virgin
-Martyr,” the “Renegade,” and the “Maid of
-Honour,” and from some passages in his other
-dramas. The bare suspicion was enough to make
-an author unfashionable at the time when the
-religion of the poet’s ancestors was the object of
-hatred and terror, and the laws against recusants
-were in all their hateful force. The plots of
-Massinger’s plays were, however, almost invariably
-taken from French or Italian novels, or
-from old legends, which embodied Romanism,
-and must, if Protestantized, have assumed the
-form of satire. Another drawback to Massinger’s
-popularity was the strong Whiggism
-which manifested itself in his plays, and which
-was so greatly at variance with the tone of the
-Court and of the higher classes during the early
-part of the reign of James I. He had not the
-reverence for constituted authority which marked
-the sentiments of Shakspeare, whilst his devotion
-to birth (not to <em>rank</em> alone) savoured of the son
-of the retainer in a great house, where the servant
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>generally is a far greater worshipper of the
-old descent than the real possessor of the ancient
-pedigree.<a id='r190' /><a href='#f190' class='c013'><sup>[190]</sup></a> Thus, whilst this ill-fated man, full of
-genius, full of virtue, and of a deep sense of
-religion, was always tempting the slings and
-arrows of fortune, he was distrusted by the Puritans
-as a favourer of the Romish faith; he was
-avoided by the loyal as an enemy to passive
-obedience; and he must have been regarded with
-disgust by the rich city merchants and traders,
-for his contempt for newly-acquired wealth, and
-his merciless exposition of their assumption, in his
-dramas.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Massinger, therefore, lived and died in poverty.
-The language of complaint became
-habitual to him; he spoke of his despised state
-with agony--yet his patrons were many and
-honourable; but he addressed each successively
-in dedications which were masterpieces of pure
-English, as his last hope--his dependence on
-whom “ate into his very soul.” To Sir Robert
-Wiseman, of Thorrell’s Hall, in Essex, he “freely,
-and with a zealous thankfulness, acknowledges
-that for many years he had but <em>faintly subsisted</em>,
-had he not often tasted of his great bounty.”<a id='r191' /><a href='#f191' class='c013'><sup>[191]</sup></a>
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>In his dedication of “The Picture” to the noble
-Society of the Inner Temple, he thanks them,
-“his honoured and selected friends,” for their
-“frequent bounties.” He lived upon presents;
-and of the comforts of a certain income he had not,
-probably, even one year’s experience. It is impossible
-to think of such a career without pain--starving
-one day, repulsed with condescension
-from the halls of the rich, another. He has depicted
-feelingly, indeed, the gentleman reduced to
-penury, in the “New Way to Pay Old Debts,”
-and the insults heaped on him by over-fed
-sycophants.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“<em>Overreach</em> (to <em>Wellborn</em>)--</div>
- <div class='line in26'>Avaunt, thou beggar!</div>
- <div class='line in10'>If ever thou presume to own me more,</div>
- <div class='line in10'>I’ll have thee caged and whipp’d.</div>
- <div class='line'>“<em>Amble</em> (to <em>Wellborn</em>)--</div>
- <div class='line in4'>Cannot you stay, to be serv’d among your fellows</div>
- <div class='line in4'>From the basket, but you must press into the hall?”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>The “basket” contained broken meat, which
-was placed in the porter’s lodge of great houses,
-to be distributed to the poor.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>So, in the “Fatal Dowry,” <em>Pontalier</em> says to
-<em>Liladum</em>:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Go to the basket, and repent.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>It is with true feeling that Massinger put
-into the mouth of <em>Wellborn</em> these pleading
-lines:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>“Scorn me not, good lady!</div>
- <div class='line'>But, as in form you are angelical,</div>
- <div class='line'>Imitate the heavenly natures, and vouchsafe</div>
- <div class='line'>At the least awhile to hear me. You will grant</div>
- <div class='line'>The blood that runs in this arm is as noble</div>
- <div class='line'>As that which fills your veins; those costly jewels</div>
- <div class='line'>And those rich clothes you wear, your men’s observance</div>
- <div class='line'>And women’s flattery, are in you no virtues;</div>
- <div class='line'>Nor these rags, with my poverty, in me vices.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>His life, however, was not without its solace.
-Happily for the literary men of the age, Ralegh
-had comprehended what is most essential both to
-mind and body, and in founding the meetings at
-the Mermaid had provided for the dramatist,
-poet, and philosopher, suitable relaxation. The
-place of meeting was at the Mermaid, in Bread
-Street, Cheapside. Here Shakspeare, Ben Jonson,
-Beaumont, Fletcher, and many others, enjoyed
-the rare companionship of Ralegh, during the
-brief intervals in which he was not either engaged
-at the Court, or in distant expeditions. Here
-wit was the current coin of the company; toil was
-cast aside; “away with melancholy,” was the
-burden of the guests, who had probably many a
-care hidden in the core of their hearts. To
-Shakspeare’s joyous nature, and to the sanguine
-and then unbroken spirit of Ralegh, the sorrows
-of the past, the terrors of the future, might easily
-be forgotten, or suspended over a cup of rich
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>Canary; or, as night drew on, after a beaker of
-sack-posset. But one may picture to oneself the
-diffident, yet proud Philip Massinger, in his black
-doublet and plain white linen collar, with shabby
-tassels hanging from it, feasting, perhaps, at another
-man’s expense--trying to shine in these
-"wit-combats"--trying to forget “the basket,”
-and to seem prosperous; but, with the remembrance
-of the five pounds borrowed upon the
-security of his capital of brains, with a heavy
-sigh, as the delightful bard of Avon talked of retiring,
-on his fortune of two hundred a-year, to the
-quaint old town, his birth-place.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It must, however, have been a delicious opportunity
-of looking into minds as various as they
-were original. Beaumont has described the surface:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in18'>“What things have we seen</div>
- <div class='line'>Done at the Mermaid!--heard words that have been</div>
- <div class='line'>So nimble and so full of subtle flame,</div>
- <div class='line'>As if that every one from whence they came</div>
- <div class='line'>Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest,</div>
- <div class='line'>And had resolved to live a fool the rest</div>
- <div class='line'>Of his dull life ...</div>
- <div class='line in14'>... and when that was gone,</div>
- <div class='line'>We left an air behind us, which alone</div>
- <div class='line'>Was able to make the two next companies</div>
- <div class='line'>(Right witty, though but downright fools) more wise.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>A modern writer has compared these meetings
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>to the “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><cite>Noctes Ambrosianæ</cite></span>.” Happier far the wits
-of modern days, than the gifted men who, in the
-time of the Stuarts, were fain to cringe to patrons
-for their subsistence. None but unsuccessful
-authors will rail at modern publishers, when they
-remember the infinite miseries, with few signal
-exceptions, of those who were unhappy enough to
-depend on individuals and not on the public,
-whose will and taste the publisher alone studies.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Intemperance was, in those days, not only the
-sin of the middle-classes, but that of the Court;
-and both James and his Queen are said to have
-indulged in it. Massinger seems to have held
-what were rare opinions in his time, and to have
-been an advocate for total abstinence:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in16'>"O take care of wine!</div>
- <div class='line'>Cold water is far better for your healths,</div>
- <div class='line'>Of which I am very tender."--<cite>The Picture.</cite></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>He wrote rapidly, and his pen was never idle;
-yet he lived in miserable poverty. There is no
-record either that he was married--no indication
-that, like every other poet, he had an unfortunate
-or unrequited attachment. His pilgrimage had
-one solace, that of a fervent religion; which had,
-probably, much of the superstitions which were
-mingled, in those early days of Protestantism,
-with the reformed faith. The Church of England
-was then “an untrimmed vessel, lurching
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>now towards Rome, and now towards Geneva;”
-it is therefore no wonder if many of the young,
-the impassioned, the imaginative, inclined to that
-form of faith and of worship which wore at least
-the semblance of venerable seniority.<a id='r192' /><a href='#f192' class='c013'><sup>[192]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There is not a line in Massinger’s works that can
-either convict him of Romanism, or stamp him as
-a Protestant. Like many of his contemporaries,
-his romantic fancy was captivated by the picturesque
-ceremonial, the saintly observances, the
-<em>dramatic</em> services of the Romish Church; and to
-this was probably added a disgust to that puritanic
-fervour by which not only the drama--to
-which there were, in fact, many just exceptions to
-be made--but all that was enchanting in life,
-poetry, secular music, revelry (not necessarily
-corrupting), was condemned as sinful, and all
-intellectual luxury prohibited and anathematized.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Herbert family continued to be friends to
-Massinger--at all events, to lend him the support of
-their name. He dedicated “The New Way to Pay
-Old Debts,” the most celebrated of his plays, to
-Robert, Earl of Carnarvon. “I was born,” he
-says, “a most devoted servant to the thrice noble
-family of your incomparable lady, and am most
-ambitious, though at a proper distance, to be
-known to your lordship.” Robert, Earl of Carnarvon,
-who had married the Lady Katherine
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>Herbert, although a friend and favourer of the
-Muses, and also Grand Falconer of England, is
-long since forgotten--whilst the poet, who addressed
-him “at a proper distance,” is remembered
-with pride and interest.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There was so close an intimacy at one time
-between the Earl of Pembroke’s family and that
-of the Duke of Buckingham, that it seems strange
-that no trace of Massinger’s having been patronized
-by him are to be discovered. In fact,
-the annals of Massinger’s life present little except
-the dates of his works. The eldest son of the unworthy
-Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery,
-the poet’s chief patron, was married in 1634
-to Lady Mary Villiers, then a mere girl. It is
-true that this alliance was formed six years after
-Buckingham’s death; but it was probably concerted
-before that event, after the fashion of the
-day, in which the infant in the cradle was often
-affianced by ambitious parents, and the nuptials
-solemnized at ten or twelve years of age. Charles,
-Lord Herbert set out on his travels directly
-after he had married his young wife, and died of
-small-pox at Florence in 1636. Massinger wrote
-a poem on his loss, among others, to his little
-bride:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in18'>“True sorrow fell</div>
- <div class='line'>With showers of tears--still bathe the widowed bed</div>
- <div class='line'>Of his dear spouse.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>The elegy, as it has been observed, had better
-not have been written; and his “dear spouse”
-very likely at that time preferred balls and
-revelries to her husband.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was, however, not impossible that Villiers,
-to please the Herbert family, may have been the
-means of introducing Massinger to Charles I.,
-who justly estimated his great merits, and proved
-a more generous as well as a worthier patron than
-the Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The political tenets of Massinger brought him
-on one occasion into considerable danger. They
-were, nevertheless, such as we should now term
-moderate; but they were irrelevantly introduced
-into his dramas, at a time when liberalism was
-almost regarded as next to treason. In 1631,
-Sir Henry Herbert, the Master of the Revels, refused
-to receive a play of Massinger’s because it
-contained what that functionary called “dangerous
-matters,” as to the deposing of Sebastian,
-King of Portugal, and “thereby reflected upon
-Spain.” Even the name of that piece is unknown,
-although the Master of the Revels took care that
-the fee of twenty shillings for reading it over was
-paid to him. In 1638, when the question of the
-Ship-money was dividing the nation from the
-Court, Massinger, unable to control his indignation
-at the oppressive measures of Charles I., produced
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>another play, called “The King and the
-Subject,” founded on the history of Don Pedro
-the Cruel. It contained, amongst other free and
-bold passages, these lines:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Monies? We’ll raise supplies which way we please,</div>
- <div class='line'>And force you to subscribe to blanks, in which</div>
- <div class='line'>We’ll mulct you as we shall think fit. The Cæsars</div>
- <div class='line'>In Rome were wise, acknowledging no laws</div>
- <div class='line'>But what their swords did ratify--the wives</div>
- <div class='line'>And daughters of the senators bowing to</div>
- <div class='line'>Their will as deities----”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>It was evident to all who had occasion to
-peruse the play in manuscript, that Don Pedro
-was intended for the King. It was submitted,
-however, to Charles, who was at Newmarket; he
-read it, and then, in his own hand, marked the
-objectionable passage, and wrote underneath these
-words, “This is too insolent; note that the poet
-make it the speech of a King, Don Pedro, to his
-subjects.” This is one instance of the kind nature
-of the often mistaken King, who avoided condemning
-the play to oblivion.<a id='r193' /><a href='#f193' class='c013'><sup>[193]</sup></a> That he encouraged Massinger--that
-he perceived, beneath the bitterness
-of a struggling man, a noble independence of
-character, is evident from Massinger’s plays being,
-in the commencement of that reign, the fashionable
-representations at Court. A bespeak at
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>Court was the most signal proof of success, and
-was all that could be desired by an author; and
-Charles took an opportunity of conferring this
-benefit on Massinger, when the poet’s feelings
-had been grievously wounded by the opposition
-made to “The Emperor of the East,” on its first
-performance by bespeaking that play.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Massinger recorded his gratitude for the bespeak
-in a prologue, in which he affirms his chief
-aim had been to please the King, and the fair
-Henrietta Maria, in this production:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“What we now present,</div>
- <div class='line'>When first conceived in his vote and intent,</div>
- <div class='line'>Was sacred to your pleasure; in each part</div>
- <div class='line'>With his best of fancy, judgment, language, art,</div>
- <div class='line'>Fashioned and formed so as might well, and may,</div>
- <div class='line'>Deserve a welcome, and no vulgar way.</div>
- <div class='line'>He durst not, sir, at such a solemn feast,</div>
- <div class='line'>Lard his grave matter with one scurrilous jest,</div>
- <div class='line'>But laboured that no passage might appear</div>
- <div class='line'>But what the Queen, without a blush, might hear.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>In 1633, just after the appearance of Prynne’s
-“Histriomastix,” Charles ordered the representation
-of Massinger’s “Guardian” at Whitehall, on
-Sunday--an unwise act, in the eyes of all; a
-wrong one in those of most persons, who, without
-undue prejudice, view the Sabbath not only as a
-day of holy rest, but as one in which the thoughts
-and actions should be eminently pure, serene, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>devout. We cannot but allow that the Puritans
-had much reason on their side in condemning this
-profanation, which was, one can scarcely doubt,
-instigated by Queen Henrietta, or intended to
-please her. The plays of Massinger were peculiarly
-unsuited to the Sabbath, from their
-grossness.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is not easy to say what amount of indelicacy
-the ladies of that period could listen
-to “without a blush.” Their confusion was,
-indeed, hidden beneath a black velvet mask.
-Even eighty or ninety years afterwards, the
-incomparable Queen Mary, the consort of William
-III., and her maids of honour, listened, under
-that protection, to the comedies of an age, perhaps,
-if possible, still more licentious in its plays
-than that in which Massinger wrote. Nor was it
-until the mask was abolished by law that the
-presence of women was recognized as controlling
-impropriety. In the reign of Anne, influenced by
-the correctness of the Court, as well as by
-the presence of ladies, unexceptionable plays, of
-loftier tone, by Steele and Addison, were placed
-on the stage. It is to be hoped that Queen
-Henrietta scarcely comprehended what she heard
-in a language of which she knew but little before
-her arrival in England; or perhaps, with the
-French notions, that a married woman, however
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>young, may go everywhere and hear everything,
-even if only just emancipated from a convent or
-the nursery, she may not have thought herself
-and her attendants degraded by what they
-heard.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Queen’s partiality for Massinger was soon
-known by another demonstration on her part.
-On the site of the old Monastery of Blackfriars,
-which had been signalized by the sitting of the
-Black Parliament, in the reign of Henry VIII.,
-by the trial of Katharine of Arragon in its hall,
-and by the condemnation of Wolsey, James
-Burbage, and his company, known as the Earl of
-Leicester’s players, had erected a theatre. It was
-within the precincts, but not the jurisdiction, of
-the City; and the Lord Mayor, after ejecting
-Burbage from the City, tried in vain to drive
-them out of Blackfriars. The Puritan inhabitants
-of the precincts were also inimical to the playhouse,
-and petitioned the Lords and Council
-against its continuance there.<a id='r194' /><a href='#f194' class='c013'><sup>[194]</sup></a> Nevertheless,
-Queen Henrietta bespoke “Cleander,” a lost
-play of Massinger’s, and went to see it acted
-at Blackfriars. She was justly censured
-for this imprudence--not, indeed, for her inconsistent
-patronage of dramas unfit for women to
-hear or read--a sin which that age perceived
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>not--but for a public attendance at a theatre, on
-the stage of which the young gallants of the
-time chose to sit, perched on stools, with tobacco
-pipes in their mouths--or congregated in twopenny
-refreshment-rooms, where ale and tobacco
-were sold.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It does not appear that the patronage of the
-Court gave permanent independence to Massinger.
-After the production of his last drama,
-“The Fair Anchoress of Pausilippo,” his career
-was over. He latterly lived at the Bankside,
-a residence probably chosen by him
-from its vicinity to various theatres--to
-Blackfriars, from its proximity to Blackfriars
-Road; to the Globe Theatre, in which <a id='corr217.15'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Shaksspeare'>Shakespeare</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_217.15'><ins class='correction' title='Shaksspeare'>Shakespeare</ins></a></span>
-had a share; to Paris Garden, to the Rose,
-to the Hope, and the Swan. The Chirk, near
-the Church of St. Saviour’s, even in the time of
-Charles I., was the seat of all manner of low dissipation--bear-baiting,
-among the rest--and consequently
-of misery and vice. The district was
-not sanctified even by the holy edifice of St.
-Saviour’s; that noble church, the finest specimen
-of the early English style in London, the crypt of
-which is one of the un-seen sights of the metropolis,
-having, happily, escaped the restoring hand
-of some reprehensible churchwardens, who have
-done their best to spoil the nave, and to reduce it
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>to the level of their own ideas. To his obscure
-home, near St. Saviour’s, Philip Massinger retired
-on the evening of the 16th of March, 1639-40,
-to rest, in his usual health. He was found dead
-in the morning in his bed. No friendly hand
-closed his eyes--no kind voice whispered into his
-ear words of hope and peace in Heaven, of which
-he had known so little on earth: no record of the
-mortal disease which thus struck him down--what
-would be called, in our time, prematurely--has
-been found. His death was, like his life, a
-blank. The parish register tells us all that can be
-told: “March 16, 1639-40.--Buried Philip Massinger,
-<em>a stranger</em>.” He was followed to the
-grave by actors, and buried in the churchyard of
-St. Saviour’s, then called St. Mary Overie, from
-an old suppressed priory. No stone marked his
-grave. His funeral was too poor for his remains
-to be interred within the church, where
-Lancelot Andrews and Henry Sacheverell
-preached, and where their bones repose; and
-where the poet Gower founded a chantry, and
-erected a tomb. Massinger was interred among
-the poor and the humble; perhaps his old companions
-of the playhouse, in after-days, slept,
-also, near his nameless grave.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His burial cost 2<em>l.</em>--a sum large enough, in
-those days, to ensure it, in Mr. Gifford’s eyes, a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>considerable amount of state and ceremony;
-and the word “stranger,” which grates so
-painfully on the feelings of those who reverence
-genius, is said by that authority to be
-usually affixed to the name of any one not belonging
-to the parish of St. Saviour. Yet, that his
-contemporaries put no epitaph on his tomb, that
-there was nothing but the sod over the cold
-clay, that no tradition even exists to show where
-he once lay, seems to prove that the Puritans
-were in the ascendancy on that sad day when the
-“stranger” was conveyed to his last home; and
-that they were meet ancestors of those who have
-since “restored” the old church, and have cleverly
-concealed the beauties of its interior.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Massinger had great qualities. He was religious,
-and of rare honesty and independence;
-yet his religion did not purify his thoughts, nor
-tend, consequently, to chasten his productions--and
-his circumstances wore away his real independence,
-as his dedications testify. His
-conceptions of what was noble, of what was
-virtuous, are beautifully expressed in those
-plays, which are yet so full of coarseness
-as to be unpresentable; and whilst he never
-loses any opportunity of exalting virtue, he
-seizes every occasion of depraving the taste, if
-not the mind. In this respect he is far more
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>culpable than Shakspeare; the age had deteriorated:
-James I. was coarse, and liked coarseness
-in others; his Court and his amusements all partook
-of that characteristic, which increased after the old
-chivalric style had declined. The elegance and
-purity in the works of Sir Philip Sidney and Spenser
-were succeeded by coarseness in those of Massinger,
-Ford, and Ben Jonson. When Massinger ceased
-to write freely--and, in so doing, to indulge every
-fancy, fair or foul--he wrote feebly. Of this “The
-Roman Actor,” to play which he “held to be the
-most perfect birth of his Minerva,” affords an example.
-It is free from indelicacy, but presents few
-of Massinger’s striking excellencies. The plot is
-bad; the scene in which the character of <em>Paris</em>
-might have been so powerfully developed, when
-tempted by <em>Domitian</em>, is poor. The tortures of
-the senators on the stage, and the appearance of
-their ghosts afterwards, savours of the love which
-Massinger had for the horrible--with the delineation
-of which he seems to have consoled himself
-for his forbearance in other points. Nevertheless,
-whilst the secondary characters in “The
-Roman Actor” are poor and indistinct--whilst
-those of the primary actors are striking and
-truthful--the timid tyranny of <em>Domitian</em>, and
-the ambition of <em>Donitia</em>, are admirably worked
-out.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>The inordinate taste for revolting incidents on
-the stage was a great feature of the times; the
-contemporaries of Somerset and his wife were
-habituated to the excitement of fearful mysteries,
-of crimes, and sins half-disclosed, yet awful in the
-dimness of partial discovery. The frequent occurrence
-of murders, sometimes designedly, “but
-more often in hasty broils,” in that day, presented
-subjects which, to us, seem extravagant, but
-which were highly acceptable to the bravadoes,
-who, smoking on the stage, brandished their
-rapiers, and were ready to avenge a quarrel at the
-sword’s point. In nothing is the difference
-of manners so marked between those days and
-these as in the matter of <em>honour</em>. In those
-times, honour was perpetually in every man’s
-mouth--personal courage was prominently brought
-forward; and hence, every play had its braggart
-or its coward; and, as we see in the works of
-Beaumont and Fletcher,<a id='r195' /><a href='#f195' class='c013'><sup>[195]</sup></a> honour had its code, its
-professional counsel, and its practical paid supporters.
-But, with this code, this practice, moral
-courage had little to do; the code of honour
-drew the main limit of caste, and the burgher
-and the tradesman were beneath it. So important
-was it, however, to observe the new code <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>aux
-ongles</em></span>, that a manual or grammar of its rules was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>applied to satisfy the captious on nice points.
-Thus, when <em>Adorio</em>, in Massinger’s “Maid of
-Honour,” laments that his honour and reputation
-should suffer from having taken a blow in
-public from <em>Caldoro</em>, accompanied with the infamous
-“mark of coward,” he is referred by
-<em>Camillo</em>, to whom he pours forth his vexation, to
-Caranza’s “Grammar” for directions, in much the
-same manner as a lawyer would quote Lord St.
-Leonards on a point of law--or travellers call on
-Murray as their authority.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>When <em>Adorio</em> talks of what he “would do” in
-the matter, <em>Camillo</em> answers:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in1'>“Never think on’t,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Till fitter time and place invite you to it.</div>
- <div class='line in2'>I have read Caranza, and find not in his Grammar</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Of quarrels that the injured man be bound</div>
- <div class='line in2'>To seek for reparation at an hour;</div>
- <div class='line in2'>But may, and without loss, till he hath settl’d</div>
- <div class='line in2'>More serious occasions that import him.</div>
- <div class='line in2'>For a day or two defer it.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Adorio.</em>--You’ll subscribe</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Your hand to this?</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Camillo.</em>--And justify’t with my life.</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Presume upon’t.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Adorio.</em>--On then; you shall o’errule me.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Women were not let off so easily; happily for
-them, more was expected from them than from
-men. Without referring to Caranza, their
-honour consisted not only in chastity, but in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>constancy to vows, and resistance to the temptations
-of wealth; and these attributes were sufficiently
-rare to make the “Maid of Honour” an
-exceptional character.<a id='r196' /><a href='#f196' class='c013'><sup>[196]</sup></a> Massinger, however,
-assures us that English women, even in those days,
-asserted a superiority in intellect and character:
-it is true, they had no opportunity of travelling,
-and stayed at home; but they learned
-from their lovers and brothers the customs of those
-foreign countries which it was then dangerous to
-traverse.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Most men of rank or fortune, nevertheless,
-made the “grand tour” before marrying; or left
-their young betrothed mistresses in their native
-counties. In the “Guardian,” <em>Calipso</em> says:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in6'>“Why, sir, do gallants travel?</div>
- <div class='line'>Answer that question; but at their return</div>
- <div class='line'>With wonder to the hearers to discourse of</div>
- <div class='line'>The garb and difference in foreign females--</div>
- <div class='line'>As the lusty girl of France, the sober German,</div>
- <div class='line'>The plump Dutch frow, the stately dame of Spain.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>It has been asked whether Massinger and
-Shakspeare ever met?--whether, as Hartley
-Coleridge inquires, they ever “took a cup of sack
-together at the Mitre or the Mermaid;” and
-whether Massinger was ever umpire or bottle-holder
-in the “wit-combats” described by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>Fuller? But upon this, as well as on many other
-points, there is no light. We know not whom
-Massinger loved, nor whom he hated; we would
-fain believe, with Coleridge, that his life was not
-passed without some true affection--a link between
-passion and virtue; we would willingly
-believe that, like Tasso, he loved one above
-him in rank--or one below him--rather
-than that he had never loved at all. But his
-works repel the surmise. True love is vehement--but
-it is delicate; and it would have elevated his
-thoughts, and purified his expressions. Massinger
-may have done justice to the intellect and
-companionship of his countrywomen, but he had
-no reverence for the most beautiful part of their
-nature; and in this, as in other respects, is far
-below Shakspeare.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The obscurity which overshadowed all Massinger’s
-career has rendered any communication,
-as we have seen, between him and Buckingham,
-doubtful; but it was far otherwise in respect to
-Ben Jonson--whose works are so replete with
-allusions to the Villiers family, and to their
-attributes, amusements, and bounties, that no
-biography of George Villiers can be complete
-without a more copious reference to the works of
-this dramatist than can be conveyed in the
-passing notices which have been given of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>masques, in the course of the preceding narrative.<a id='r197' /><a href='#f197' class='c013'><sup>[197]</sup></a>
-Ben Jonson was ten years older than Massinger;
-and was born in 1574. Whether from his
-surname, or his Christian name, or from his after-life,
-it is not easy to say, but one generally looks
-upon Ben Jonson as a man of low birth. But
-such was not the fact. His grandfather, a man
-of some family and fortune, was a gentleman in
-the service of Henry VIII.; his father was in
-holy orders, “a grave minister of the Gospel.”<a id='r198' /><a href='#f198' class='c013'><sup>[198]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The family had originally settled at Annandale,
-in Scotland; but Ben Jonson was born in
-Westminster. He had the misfortune to come
-into the world a month after his father’s death.
-It was, perhaps, a less adverse circumstance that
-his mother, two years afterwards, married again.
-Her views were not exalted, and she took for her
-second husband--tired, it might seem, of the
-genteel poverty of the cloth--a master-bricklayer.
-Not even has Fuller, not even has
-Gifford, been able to ascertain in what part of
-the suburb of Westminster “Ben” was born.
-Fuller, however, consoles us; he could not trace
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>the poet in his <em>cradle</em>, but he could “fetch him,”
-as he observes, in his “short coats.” About two
-years old, Ben was <em>discovered</em>--that is to say, the
-haunts of his infancy were--“a little child in
-Hartshorn Lane, near Charing Cross.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This neighbourhood was as poor as that of
-Westminster Abbey; and the parish of St.
-Martin’s-in-the-Fields, which then extended to
-Whitehall on the south, to Marylebone on the
-north, to the Savoy on the east, and to Chelsea and
-Kensington on the west, when first rated to the
-poor in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, contained only
-two hundred persons sufficiently wealthy to pay
-those rates.<a id='r199' /><a href='#f199' class='c013'><sup>[199]</sup></a> It afterwards became the greatest
-cure in England, until several of its parishes
-were separated from the patron saint, St. Martin’s.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Here, however, Ben Jonson was brought up--getting
-such education as he might from a school
-in the church of St Martin’s. It is stated, however,
-by Gifford, to have been a “private school.”
-He might possibly have been one of the private
-pupils on a foundation school. Some unknown
-benefactor, however, removed the future poet
-from St Martin’s, and placed him at St. Peter’s
-College, Westminster, which was founded by
-Queen Elizabeth, in 1660--“a public school for
-grammar, rhetorick,--<em>poetry</em> (which the maiden
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>Queen was too wise to despise) and for the Latin
-and Greek languages.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This removal was the visible cause of all Ben
-Jonson’s eminence. Camden, the historian, was
-then one of the masters of that school, from
-whose ranks issued Cowley, George Herbert,
-Dryden, Churchill, Cowper, Southey, and many
-others less celebrated. Ben Jonson always retained
-an affectionate remembrance of Camden’s
-instructions:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Camden, most reverend head, to whom I owe</div>
- <div class='line'>All that in wits I am, and all I know.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>He dedicated his best play, “Every Man in
-his Humour,” to Master Camden, “Clarencieux,”
-ending his dedication thus:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Now, I pray you to accept this; such
-wherein neither the confession of my manners
-shall make you blush--nor of my studies repent
-you to have been the instructor; and for the
-profession of any thankfulness, I am sure it will,
-with good men, find either praise or excuse,
-from your true lover, Ben Jonson.”<a id='r200' /><a href='#f200' class='c013'><sup>[200]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>From Westminster, Jonson went to Cambridge,
-probably to St. John’s; but even of this important
-fact no certainty exists, for the university
-register is imperfect, and from 1600 to 1602
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>there is an hiatus. It is merely conjectured, from
-there being several books containing the name of
-Ben Jonson in the library of St. John’s, that
-he entered that College. Here, however, he
-only stayed, according to Fuller, some weeks;
-funds were wanting for his support--a circumstance
-which seems to shew that he was not
-sent up to Trinity College on the foundation,
-as otherwise he would have had an exhibition
-at Westminster. His parents were unable to
-supply means; and the young student, thirsting
-for distinction, was obliged to return and follow
-his step-father’s calling. Never was there a situation
-so pitiable, and the condition of this aspiring
-scholar was compassionated by other scholars of
-happier fortunes than himself. Camden generously
-relieved him; Thomas Sutton, who, having
-bought the Charter House from Lord Suffolk,
-nobly devoted it to an hospital and school, “the
-master-piece of Protestant charity,” as Lord
-Bacon styled it,--also, according to some accounts,
-consoled, and compassionated, and assisted Jonson.
-It has even been said that “Ben” was
-engaged to attend the eldest son of Sir Walter
-Ralegh, as a tutor; but of this no certainty
-exists. All that is absolutely known is, that he
-was sick of the trowel and the hod, whilst his
-mind was running on Horace and Virgil; and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>that to escape what he deemed degradation, he
-enlisted, went off to the Low Countries, and
-served a campaign in that scene of war, which
-was a sort of school to the young English soldier.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His heart went, to a certain extent, along with
-this new profession. “Let not those blush that
-have, but those that have not, a lawful calling,”
-says Fuller,--and Jonson seems to have thought
-so likewise. He returned, however, at nineteen,
-poor as ever, with the same scholastic tastes; and
-the master-bricklayer being dead, he repaired to
-his mother’s house.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He next tried the stage. It has been, in all
-times, the refuge of the unthrifty. But Jonson’s
-appearance was unfavourable to that attempt.
-His very ugliness, one would have thought, might
-have been an advantage. Mr. Gifford repels with
-fury the imputation on Jonson, that his hero was
-frightful; yet the description he gives himself of
-Ben Jonson is by no means attractive. His complexion,
-which had been clear and smooth in boyhood,
-was disfigured by a scorbutic humour, and
-ultimately by scars, from what the Germans are
-pleased to call the “Englische Krankheit.” His
-features are said not to have been irregular or
-unpleasing, but appear in his portraits to be large
-and coarse. One eye looked askance; his forehead
-was, however, noble; his person was broad
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>and corpulent--after forty it became unwieldy;
-and his gait, he himself owned, “ungracious.”
-In early youth his worst points were not, probably,
-prominent; he had a delightful voice and
-emphasis. “I never,” said the Duchess of Newcastle,
-"heard any man read well but my husband;
-and I have heard him say, 'he never heard
-any man read well but Ben Jonson, and yet he
-hath heard many in his time.’"<a id='r201' /><a href='#f201' class='c013'><sup>[201]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Nevertheless, “Ben” was not a good actor.
-Critics differ as to the nature and duration of his
-theatrical employ. And Gifford, who takes every
-question relative to his hero as a personal matter,
-is indignant at the statement that he was a strolling
-player, or ambled by the side of a waggon,
-and took <em>mad Jeronymo’s</em> part; but, as most companies
-were then itinerant, and, as even now, first-rate
-actors and actresses make provincial tours,
-there seems little call for the venom and wrath
-poured out by the indefatigable biographer, who
-points, with satisfaction, to the bulky figure of
-Jonson, and asks how he could possibly act “little
-<em>Jeronymo</em>,” that "inch of Spain"?<a id='r202' /><a href='#f202' class='c013'><sup>[202]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whatever was his position--whether, as Anthony
-Wood says, “he did recede to a nursery or obscure
-playhouse, called the <em>Green Curtain</em>,” in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>Shoreditch; or whether, as Gifford declares, that
-statement is a mere fable, and that his aims were
-higher--seemed now of little moment, perhaps, to
-Jonson himself; for his efforts were interrupted
-by a duel. His antagonist is supposed to have
-been a brother-player, who brought to the field a
-sword ten inches longer than poor Ben’s. They
-fought, and Ben killed the gentleman with the
-long sword, but was himself severely wounded in
-the arm; he was sent to prison, and brought, as
-he described it, “near to the gallows.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Poor Ben was now, probably, fain to cry out
-with <em>Antonio</em> in the “Maid of Honour”:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in20'>“But redeem me</div>
- <div class='line'>From this captivity, and I’ll vow</div>
- <div class='line'>Never to draw a sword, or cut my meat hereafter</div>
- <div class='line'>With a knife that has an edge or point; I’ll starve first.”<a id='r203' /><a href='#f203' class='c013'><sup>[203]</sup></a></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>This imprisonment had a signal effect on Jonson’s
-destiny; he fell into melancholy, and was visited
-in his despondency by a Romanist priest, who
-applied himself to his consolation first, and to his
-conversion afterwards. Jonson had been religiously
-brought up, and it was not from indifference
-that he renounced the faith of his parents
-and entered the Romish Church. Such conversions
-were frequent in the early days of the Reformation.
-Jonson was no controversialist; wiser
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>men than he fell into the same error, and, like
-such, atoned for it. The great light of our Church,
-Jeremy Taylor, became for some time a Romanist,
-but returned to the Anglican faith; Chillingworth
-and others wandered also, and also returned.
-The readiest converts are often those of deep and
-earnest feelings, which act on excitable minds,
-only superficially informed on the great doctrines
-of Scripture.<a id='r204' /><a href='#f204' class='c013'><sup>[204]</sup></a> Jonson’s imprisonment was aggravated
-in its misery by a system of espionage
-which the necessities of the times induced. The
-plots against Elizabeth’s life usually originated in
-the seminaries of the priests. Jonson was warned
-by his gaoler that he was watched.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was eventually released, but by what agency
-does not appear.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He quitted prison, and married a young woman
-of his new persuasion; and there appears to have
-been no great reason to repent his choice. His
-wife was shrewish, but respectable; and the
-poet’s prosperity commenced with his marriage.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>From this time until the period when the Court
-festivities brought him into frequent collision with
-Villiers, Jonson’s productions were successive
-occasions of triumph. Nevertheless, money did
-not flow into his coffers; and he was continually
-obliged to pledge, as Massinger did, the labour of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>his brain--two sums of four pounds, and twenty
-shillings, being advanced to him by Henslowe, the
-father-in-law of Alleyn, the player, upon the plots
-of two plays being presented and approved.
-Still poor Jonson had his enemies and traducers.
-The scene of “Every Man in his Humour” was
-originally laid in Thrace; the names were Italian,
-but wishing still further to ensure its success,
-Jonson changed them, and brought the scenes
-to London. Nevertheless, he was still attacked
-about his Italian story. There seems, then, to
-have been as great an objection to works of
-imagination based on foreign plots as in the present
-day. In “Volpone,” Jonson carefully avoided
-introducing any material not purely English.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was still a struggling author, with few friends
-except players and playwrights, and with many
-enemies, owing to his vehemence of temper and
-imprudence of speech. But of his animosity to
-Shakspeare, and of the poet’s alienation from him,
-there seems no proof; and indeed Shakspeare is
-reported to have stood godfather to one of his
-children--although the improbable anecdote connected
-with that act is discredited by Gifford.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Jonson’s acquaintance with Shakspeare is stated
-by Rowe to have begun with “a remarkable piece
-of humanity and good-nature on the part of the immortal
-bard.” Jonson, who was then, as Rowe observes,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>“entirely unknown to the world,” had offered
-“Every Man in his Humour” for representation;
-it was carelessly looked over, and returned in a
-supercilious manner by the person who had read
-it, with the uncourteous answer “that it would
-be of no use to the company.” Happily, however,
-Shakspeare chanced to cast his eyes on the
-manuscript, and found in the play something that
-powerfully engaged his attention. Generous, as
-well as gifted, he recommended both Jonson and
-his drama to the attention of the actors, and to
-that of the public also.<a id='r205' /><a href='#f205' class='c013'><sup>[205]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The old play, with the Italian names, the scene
-laid at Florence, had been first brought out at
-the Rose Theatre; and it was, apparently, the
-amended drama, which, from the numerous alterations,
-had become again Jonson’s property, according
-to the custom of the time, that attracted
-the notice of Shakspeare.<a id='r206' /><a href='#f206' class='c013'><sup>[206]</sup></a> Be that as it may,
-“Every Man in his Humour” was acted at Blackfriars
-in 1598, and Shakspeare’s name appears at
-the head of it as one of the performers. This was
-about sixteen years before the Bard of Avon
-sought for repose on the banks of his beloved
-river, and in his native town.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Henceforth the literary world was divided by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>the factions which penetrate even into the studies
-of the lettered; and a sort of rivalship was set
-up, in which, it appears, the partisans of the two
-great dramatists were far more rife than the
-parties concerned.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The contending critics endeavoured to exalt the
-one at the expense of the other. Pope observes,
-“It is ever the nature of parties to be in extremes;
-and nothing is so probable as that, because Ben
-Jonson had much the more learning, it was said on
-the one hand that Shakspeare had none at all; and
-because Shakspeare had much the most wit and
-fancy, it was retorted on the other that Jonson
-wanted both; because Shakspeare borrowed
-nothing, it was said that Ben Jonson borrowed
-everything; because Jonson did not write extempore,
-he was reproached with being a year
-about every piece; and because Shakspeare wrote
-with ease and facility, they cry’d he never once
-made a blot.”<a id='r207' /><a href='#f207' class='c013'><sup>[207]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Yet, without attempting to enter into a
-controversy long since passed away, and doubtful
-in origin and extent, it is satisfactory to find
-Jonson’s vindication from unworthy motives in
-his famous lines, “To the Memory of my Beloved,
-the Author, Mr. William Shakespere, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>what he hath left us:” in which he truly calls him
-the “Soul of the Age.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Jonson’s “Every Man in his Humour” was
-honoured, after it had been played several
-times, by the presence of Queen Elizabeth,
-who was one of Jonson’s earliest patrons. Nevertheless,
-in “Cynthia’s Revels,” which was brought
-out during the following year, the poet satirized
-the formal and affected manners of the Court.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Whitehall was never gay after the execution of
-Mary Queen of Scots; the joyousness of Elizabeth’s
-nature, which she had inherited from her
-father, was gone.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>When mirth went out, pedantry came in.
-Euphüism was for a time in vogue; the Queen,
-pensive one hour, fretful the next, looked passively
-on the change; but to her courtiers--among
-whom Jonson now began to mix--the
-satire in “Cynthia’s Revels” was, probably,
-highly acceptable. Among the most reprehensible
-usages of the day was that of bringing up
-children to perform on the public stage, as well
-as in the Court. In 1609 authority was given to
-“William Shakespeare, Robert Daborne, Nathaniel
-Field, and Robert Kirkham,” to provide and instruct
-a certain number of children to perform
-in tragedies, comedies, or masques, within the
-Blackfriars, or in “the realm of England.”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>Shakspeare, who soon withdrew from the superintendence
-of this juvenile company, has referred to
-them in “Hamlet,” thus marking his disapprobation
-of the system.<a id='r208' /><a href='#f208' class='c013'><sup>[208]</sup></a></p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>“But there is, sir, an aviary of children, little eyases
-that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically
-clapp’d for it. These are now the fashion, and so besottle
-the common stages (so they call them) that many wearing
-rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and scarce dare come
-thither.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>These children were, in some respects, well
-cared for. They were selected from the young
-choristers in the Royal Chapel, and, by an
-order, so early as the reign of Edward IV., they
-were to be sent to Oxford or Cambridge, on the
-King’s foundation, at the age of eighteen, should
-their voices be changed, or the number of choristers
-be over-full. “Many good people,” observes
-Hartley Coleridge,<a id='r209' /><a href='#f209' class='c013'><sup>[209]</sup></a> “who are scandalized at the
-Latin plays of Westminster, will be surprised
-that in the pious days of England, in the glorious
-morning of the Reformation, in ‘great Eliza’s
-golden time,’ under Kings and Queens that
-were the nursing fathers and nursing mothers,
-the public acting of plays should be, not the
-permitted recreation, but the compulsory employment
-of children devoted to sing the praises
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>of God--of plays too, the best of which children
-may now only read in a ‘family’ edition of some,
-whose very titles a modern father would scruple
-to pronounce before a woman or a child.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>These children were first impressed from the
-cathedrals by Richard III.; and even Queen
-Elizabeth issued a warrant, under the sign-manual,
-“authorizing Thomas <a id='corr238.8'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Gyles,'>Gyles,”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_238.8'><ins class='correction' title='Gyles,'>Gyles,”</ins></a></span> the master
-of the children of Paul’s, “to bring up any
-boys in cathedrals or collegiate churches, in order
-to be instructed for the entertainment of the
-Court.” The children of the Queen’s Chapel
-must, therefore, henceforth form a principal
-feature in the representations of Ben Jonson’s
-masques, as we picture them to our minds, either
-in Whitehall--consumed by fire long since--or
-at Althorpe, or at Burleigh-on-the-Hill, or in
-the stately Castle of Belvoir. Under those
-vaulted roofs their young voices warbled the
-exquisite poetry of Jonson to the music of
-Lawes, or--be it not recorded without shame,
-nevertheless--were obliged to utter words of raillery,
-bitterness, and indelicacy, which were usually,
-as Heywood in his apology for actors confesses,
-allotted to the unconscious children to deliver.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Greatly as Ben Jonson hailed the accession
-of James I., he had soon reason to regret the
-wise though parsimonious Queen Elizabeth. In
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>conjunction with Chapman and Marston, he had
-written a play called "Eastward Hoe." It was
-well received; but there was a passage in it
-reflecting on the Scotch. The two authors were
-arrested; Jonson had not any share in writing the
-piece, but, being accessory to its production, he
-honourably and “voluntarily” accompanied his
-two friends to prison, thus surrendering himself
-to justice. No very severe punishment was ever
-contemplated, but a report prevailed that the
-three delinquents were to have their ears and
-noses cut. Jonson is said to have been released
-owing to the intercession of Camden and Selden;
-and they are declared to have been present when,
-after his liberation, he gave an entertainment. On
-that occasion his mother “drank to him, and
-showed him a paper which she designed, if the
-sentence had taken effect, to have been mixed
-with his drink, and it was a strong and hasty
-poison.” To show “that she was no churl,”
-Jonson, in relating this story, added, “she designed
-to have first drank of it <a id='corr240.22'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='herself'>herself.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_240.22'><ins class='correction' title='herself'>herself.</ins></a></span>”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He escaped from some other personal attack
-which, in common with Chapman, he made
-on some individual, with only a second and
-also temporary imprisonment;<a id='r210' /><a href='#f210' class='c013'><sup>[210]</sup></a> and from this
-time was in such constant requisition by the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>Court, that his imprudence went unnoticed. The
-“Masque of Darkness” was composed by the express
-command of Anne of Denmark, who appeared
-in it as a negress, surrounded with the dark
-beauties of her supposed African Court. The
-Queen, and the “Daughters of Night,” as the
-noble dames who acted in that pageant were
-called, were placed in a concave shell, seated one
-above another in tiers; from the top of the shell,
-which represented mother-of-pearl, hung a cheveron
-of light, which cast a bright beam on these ladies;
-the shell was moving up and down upon the
-sea, and in the billows appeared varied forms
-of sea-monsters, twelve in number, each bearing
-a torch on his back. The Queen was attired in
-azure and silver, with a curious head-dress of
-feathers, fastened with ropes of pearl, which
-showed well as the loops fell on the blackened
-throats of the masquers, who also wore ropes of
-pearl on their arms and wrists. Inigo Jones is
-conjectured to have written the directions for the
-costume of this masque.<a id='r211' /><a href='#f211' class='c013'><sup>[211]</sup></a> Jonson now received
-periodical sums, not only from the Court, but
-from public bodies and private patrons. A year
-seldom passed without a Royal progress; and we
-have seen how essential the poet had become to
-the often impromptu revelries in which James I.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>continually indulged. Yet Jonson wrote his plays
-and masques slowly. The “Fox” took him a
-year to complete. His notion was that “a good
-poet’s made as well as born.”<a id='r212' /><a href='#f212' class='c013'><sup>[212]</sup></a> He worked out
-his own success, and his labours were incessant.
-He had a practice of committing to his commonplace
-book remarkable passages that struck him.
-Lord Falkland, one of the most accomplished of
-the cavaliers, expressed his astonishment at the
-variety and extreme copiousness of Jonson’s
-knowledge. If a pedantic display of learning be
-imputed to Jonson, it must be remembered that
-it was, probably, in compliance with the taste of
-his royal patron, James, who delighted in exhibiting
-his classical proficiency; and who, even
-on his death-bed, as we have seen, answered the
-learned Prelate near him in Latin. It was during
-the first years of King James’s reign that Jonson
-justified these classic allusions in his “Masque
-and Barriers,” at the nuptials of the Earl of
-Essex to the faithless bride, also married afterwards
-to Somerset. “Some,” he says, “may
-squeamishly cry out, that all endeavours of learning
-and sharpness in these transitory devises,
-where it steps beyond their little (or let me not
-wrong them) no brain at all, is superfluous.
-I am contented these fastidious stomachs should
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>leave my full tables, and enjoy at home their clean
-empty trenchers, fitted for such airy tastes, where
-perhaps a few Italian herbs, picked up, and made
-into a sallad, may find sweeter acceptance than
-all the sound meat of the world.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>These beautiful masques had the great advantage
-of being set to music by Henry Lawes, the
-composer who secured immortality to his name
-by the music of “Comus,” composed by him.
-Lawes was beginning his career of fame when
-Buckingham first entered the Court. The son of
-a vicar choral in Salisbury Cathedral, he rose to
-be first a gentleman of the Chapel Royal, and
-afterwards Clerk of the Chapel, and conductor of
-the private music of Charles I. Henry Lawes
-sometimes took a part in the masques which he
-composed; and acted the attendant spirit in
-“Comus.” His “ayres” and dialogues have disappointed
-posterity. Yet he appears to have been
-almost the father of English vocal music; and, as
-Milton declares--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in4'>“Taught our English music how to space</div>
- <div class='line'>Word with just note and accent.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c027'>Music, like all the other delights of peace, languished
-during the troublous times of the Rebellion,
-or flourished only on the battle-field.
-Lawes was obliged to teach singing during that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>period; but he lived to compose the coronation
-anthem for Charles II., and to have a place of
-interment assigned to him in Westminster
-Abbey. His brother, less happy, though a
-skilful musician also, and often employed in conjunction
-with Henry Lawes, took up arms for
-Charles I., in whose service he also lived, and to
-whom he was devoted, and fell, fighting for his
-sovereign, at the siege of Chester.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was then the custom for certain great
-families to receive musicians, as well as men of
-letters, in their houses, and to employ them in
-their especial line--sometimes in hymeneal festivities,
-sometimes in composing requiems. Thus the
-arts and sciences, poetry, music, painting, and scenic
-decoration, were united, during the life-time of
-George Villiers, in a degree never before or since
-known in this country. Massinger, Ben Jonson,
-Lawes, Inigo Jones, were at the service of the
-rich and noble, and awaited their bidding.
-Shakspeare died just after George Villiers had
-received the first public proof of Royal favour--the
-honour of knighthood;<a id='r213' /><a href='#f213' class='c013'><sup>[213]</sup></a> and the era of
-masques and revels began. Still, “a craving for
-mental enjoyment,”<a id='r214' /><a href='#f214' class='c013'><sup>[214]</sup></a> as well as that derived from
-the senses, was diffused.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>The religious changes and controversies in the
-preceding reigns had improved the intellect of
-the higher orders in England, by making some
-portion of learning necessary to those either
-engaged in polemical disputes, or who, conscientious,
-though unassuming, wished to form
-their own opinions. There was an earnestness
-in the awakened minds of that period.
-“It was a time of much vice, much folly,
-much trouble--but it was an age of much
-energy.”<a id='r215' /><a href='#f215' class='c013'><sup>[215]</sup></a> When, after the middle of Elizabeth’s
-reign, the thirst for controversy abated, the
-desire for cultivation, the love of poetry, and the
-taste for art remained, took another direction,
-and tended to the improvement and enlightenment
-of social life. The higher classes did much
-to exalt these dawning predilections, until the
-rebellion came; after that fearful convulsion,
-the diversions of the great were henceforth
-debased in character, and their minds in
-taste.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Mary Countess of Pembroke was one of the
-earliest and most admired of Ben Jonson’s friends.
-To her son William, the early adviser of the
-Duke of Buckingham, Ben Jonson dedicated his
-“Book of Epigrams.” It is therefore almost certain
-that, before Jonson had appeared in public,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>as the composer of masques for the express entertainment
-of the great favourite at Burleigh, he
-had met Villiers at Wilton, in the society of their
-common friend, Lord Pembroke--“a man,”
-Lord Clarendon writes, “very well-bred, and of
-excellent parts, and a graceful speaker upon any
-subject, having a good proportion of learning,
-and a ready wit to apply and enlarge upon it.”
-When we add to this that the Earl was no cold,
-haughty, and pompous host, but facetious,
-affable, generous, magnificent, as disinterested
-and independent with the rich and great as he
-was unaffected and courteous to the humble;
-when we remember what Wilton even then was--the
-pride of the nation; when we reflect what
-and who were the men who were welcomed to its
-hospitality--men, as Clarendon observes, “of the
-most pregnant parts and understanding;” when
-we think of Ben Jonson there--probably received
-as a guest--whilst Massinger was still only the
-son of a retainer; when we picture Inigo Jones
-with his pencil--the sketches which he drew,
-praised by Vandyck; or hear the voices of the
-two brothers Henry and William Lawes, singing
-to soft airs the verses of Ben Jonson--we must
-believe that George Villiers had in such scenes,
-before he lost the friendship of Pembroke, many
-delights greater than the wearisome partiality of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>James, or even a communion with the then unformed
-mind of Charles.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>A Platonic admiration for Christian, Countess
-of Devonshire, called forth in verses the romantic
-gallantry of the Earl of Pembroke. One cannot
-help rejoicing that Lawes set to music what Pembroke
-wrote:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>"Wrong not, dear Empress of my heart,</div>
- <div class='line'>The merits of true passion,</div>
- <div class='line'>With thinking that he feels no smart</div>
- <div class='line'>Who sues for no compassion.</div>
- <div class='c007'>.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Silence in love betrays more woe</div>
- <div class='line'>Than words, though ne’er so witty.</div>
- <div class='line'>The beggar that is dumb, you know,</div>
- <div class='line'>May challenge double pity."<a id='r216' /><a href='#f216' class='c013'><sup>[216]</sup></a></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>From the society of Wilton, Villiers went
-forth imbued with those tastes which never
-yielded wholly to the grosser diversions in which
-his Royal patron indulged. Whilst he retained the
-friendship of Lord Pembroke, Villiers was, in all
-probability, learning to estimate the conversation
-and works of Ben Jonson; and henceforth, the
-efforts of the dramatist must, to a certain degree,
-be associated with the influence and protection of
-the favourite.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>London, in spite of the repeated proclamations of
-King James, tending to restrain its extent, and to
-keep the provincial gentry in their homes, was now
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>generally crowded at certain seasons. A number
-of small theatres were erected in various parts of
-the city, in order to supply entertainments to
-those who would have turned with disgust, since a
-finer taste had been introduced by the Reformation,
-from the old moralities. Shakspeare, happily,
-formed an engagement to produce his pieces at
-one theatre, but Jonson was obliged to carry his
-productions to various minor houses, until the
-success of his masques enabled him to form a
-higher estimate of the value of his powers. His
-lighter pieces are marked by grace and sweetness;
-but these characteristics he “laid aside,” says Mr.
-Gifford, “whenever he approached the stage, and
-put on the censor with the sock.”<a id='r217' /><a href='#f217' class='c013'><sup>[217]</sup></a> The excellence
-of the masque in Ben Jonson’s time, the
-great and gifted actors by whom it was performed,
-the fancy which was suffered to expand itself in
-these pieces, the scenic effect to which so vast an
-expense was devoted, incline us to think, with
-Gifford, “that all our ‘most splendid shows are
-at best but beggarly parodies,’ in comparison with
-those in which the Cliffords and Arundels, the
-Stanleys, the Russells, the Veres, and the Wroths;
-‘danced in the fairy rings, in the gay and gallant
-circles of those enchanting devices.’”<a id='r218' /><a href='#f218' class='c013'><sup>[218]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>After the death of Shakspeare, Jonson received,
-by patent, a pension of a hundred marks a-year
-from James. It is supposed that the honour
-of the laureateship chiefly or solely belonged
-to him. Hitherto the title seems to have
-been merely honorary, adopted at pleasure by any
-poet who was appointed to write for the Court.
-It had been borne by Daniel in the time of Elizabeth.
-It was on this occasion that Jonson applied
-to Selden for information concerning the origin of
-the title of laureate; and that Selden drew up
-expressly, and introduced into the second part of
-his “Titles of Honours,” a long chapter on the
-custom of giving crowns of laurel to poets; at the
-conclusion of which he says, “Thus have I, by
-no unseasonable digression, performed a promise
-to you, my beloved Ben Jonson--your curious
-learning and judgment may correct where I have
-erred;” and adds, “where my notes and memory
-have left me short.” A graceful and enviable compliment
-from such a man.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The triumphs of Jonson’s genius were interrupted
-by his journey to Edinburgh in 1618--a
-journey which he performed <em>on foot</em>. Here he
-was the guest of Drummond, the poet of Hawthornden--under
-whose roof he passed the April
-of 1619. This journey was regarded as the
-greatest misfortune of Jonson’s life; not only
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>because during his stay in Scotland his wife died,
-but because Drummond, amongst other injuries,
-gave the following character of Ben Jonson to the
-world:--<a id='r219' /><a href='#f219' class='c013'><sup>[219]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“For,” he says, “Ben Jonson was a great
-lover and praiser of himself, a contemner and
-scorner of others, given rather to lose a friend
-than a jest, jealous of every word and action of
-those about him, especially after drink, which is
-one of the elements in which he lived; a dissembler
-of the parts which reigned in him, a bragger
-of some good that he wanted, thinketh nothing
-well done but what either he himself or some of
-his friends have said or done. He is passionately
-kind or angry, careless either to gain or keep;
-vindictive, if he be well answered as himself; interprets
-best sayings and deeds often to the worst.
-He was for any religion, as being versed in
-both.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The conduct of Drummond, styled by Mr.
-Gifford, “a cankered hypocrite,”<a id='r220' /><a href='#f220' class='c013'><sup>[220]</sup></a> has been justified
-by others; his very hospitality to Jonson is
-termed by the infuriated biographer, “decoying
-him into his house.” Drummond acted, in a very
-slight degree, in the same capacity to Jonson as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>that which Boswell, a century and a half afterwards,
-undertook in regard to the more fortunate
-Samuel Johnson, who found in <em>his</em> listener an admirer,
-and not a foe. Both these great men had
-the calamity of having every idle expression set
-down for the curiosity of an after-age; and “old
-Ben,” as his contemporaries called him in their
-jovial meetings at the Mermaid, did not stand
-the test so well as “Old Samuel.” We cannot,
-however, regard the visit to Scotland as the great
-misfortune of Ben Jonson’s life, as the impassioned
-Gifford pronounces it.<a id='r221' /><a href='#f221' class='c013'><sup>[221]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Jonson, however, returned to London, unconscious
-of all that after his death so agitated
-the literary world in the eighteenth century
-on his account. He met, as he wrote to
-Drummond, with a “most Catholic welcome from
-King James,” who was then, like Jonson, a not
-disconsolate widower. The poet was writing a
-poem for the funeral of Queen Anne, who had
-just died, but was unburied. He was very keenly
-engaged in beginning the “Discovery,” which
-was to contain a description of Scotland; and he
-signed himself Drummond’s “true friend and
-lover.” He received, in return, two letters full of
-kindness and compliment from Drummond, whom
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>Gifford himself, incapable of an act of insincerity,
-styles thereupon, “hypocrite to the last.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Ben Jonson was now invited by Bishop Corbet
-to Christ Church, Oxford, where he was created
-Master of Arts. Thence he passed to Burleigh-on-the-Hill
-and to Windsor, to see the performance
-of his "Gypsies Metamorphosed"--and to
-introduce little compliments in each piece, as the
-<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>dramatis personnæ</em></span> were varied or augmented by
-the accession of fresh actors and actresses. About
-this time he wrote his poem on the “Ladies of
-England.” It was lost--a mischance which, in
-the weakness of one’s nature, one is apt to regret
-more than the destruction of a vast body of philological
-notes, the fruit of twenty years’ labour, for
-which Mr. Gifford calls for especial sympathy.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Jonson was now made “Master of the Revells,”
-and was nearly being knighted. He passed his
-time in going from one country seat to another;
-every Twelfth-day he was ordered to produce, or
-to repeat a masque. Charles I. was now rising
-to maturity, and, like his deceased brother, Henry,
-he loved the poetry of Jonson, and the fancy of
-Inigo Jones. The match-making propensities of
-King James were as yet undeveloped, and had
-neither troubled his repose nor maddened the
-nation into a dread of his mistakes. Villiers was
-young, gay, and unmarried; and the world was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>at peace. Those were happy and busy days for
-Jonson--yet, amid all his labours, he found time to
-collect an excellent library. He was not only a collector,
-but a lender of his books--an unusual combination;
-a man must be generous, indeed, to
-unite the two characters; nay, he gave them also,
-liberally, to those qualified to value the rare
-editions which he bought. “I am fully warranted
-in saying,” Mr. Gifford writes, “that more
-valuable books given to individuals by Jonson are
-yet to be met with than by any person of that
-age. Scores of them have fallen under my own
-observation, and I have heard of abundance of
-others.”<a id='r222' /><a href='#f222' class='c013'><sup>[222]</sup></a> This is rare praise. Nevertheless, since
-brilliant success always has its alloy, it was the
-lot of Jonson to suffer from the ingratitude of his
-coadjutor, Inigo Jones; and the excuse, perhaps,
-of Inigo was, that he was tried and tempted by
-the temper and irony of Jonson. Their quarrel
-was inconvenient, and must have caused some
-trouble in the representation of those masques
-and revels over which Jonson presided.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Whoever was the aggressor,” says Horace
-Walpole, “the turbulence and brutality of Jonson
-was sure to place him most in the wrong.” This
-is a hard judgment. Let it be remembered that
-the circumstances of the two men were different.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>Jonson was poor, diseased, and in that miserable
-plight when a generous temper is continually
-checked by pecuniary difficulties. Inigo Jones
-had realized a handsome fortune, and was then
-in the full enjoyment of wealth and reputation.
-Unfortunately he was a poet; some of the masques
-printed had their joint names as the composers.
-Jealousies arose, which ought to have soon subsided,
-had either of these celebrated men known
-how to curb his wrath. In Jonson’s case, his
-temper was his worst enemy; but for this defect
-he had an excuse which might have pleaded for
-him even with Inigo. In 1625, Jonson composed
-for King James “Pan’s Anniversary,” the last
-piece that he presented to that monarch; towards
-the end of that year he was attacked with palsy,
-and a threatening of dropsy added to his accumulated
-trials. Poverty and ill-health are pleas for
-indulgence. For the first evil, Jonson’s improvidence,
-his hospitality, his utter want of prudence
-in his affairs, may justly be blamed. The last was
-also partially his own fault, for his habits were
-intemperate--and partly ascribable to an hereditarily
-diseased constitution. Nature, which had
-endowed him with that wonderful intellect, that
-indomitable energy, had modified her gift by the
-infliction of a cruel malady, which, being in the
-blood, was aggravated by the weakness of approaching
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>age. The suppers at the Mermaid
-were now finally abandoned; and the club at the
-Devil Tavern, near Temple Bar, was no longer
-enlivened by his wit. His intellect was affected
-to some extent, but he recovered sufficiently to
-write the anti-masque of “Jophiel” for the Court;
-after which, none of his productions were commanded
-by the King during the space of three
-years. In his necessities, unable to leave his
-room, or to move without assistance, the poor
-invalid turned to the theatre as a source of revenue,
-and produced “The New Inn.” It was
-hissed from the stage; and, notwithstanding the
-dramatist’s plea in his epilogue that he was “sick
-and sad,” he was persecuted with contemptuous
-verses, and pursued with remorseless cruelty by
-the many enemies that his rough manners had
-excited--among them, Inigo was the most inveterate.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There was, however, one kind heart that pitied
-him--that of Charles I. The monarch was touched
-by the lines which the hard critics in the theatre
-could hear without compassion:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“If you expect more than you had to-night,</div>
- <div class='line'>The Maker is sick and sad; he sent things fit</div>
- <div class='line'>In all the numbers both of verse and wit,</div>
- <div class='line'>If they have not miscarried: if they have,</div>
- <div class='line'>All that his faint and faltering tongue doth crave</div>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>Is, that you not impute it to his brain--</div>
- <div class='line'>That’s yet unhurt, although set round with pain.</div>
- <div class='line'>It cannot long hold out: all strength must yield;</div>
- <div class='line'>Yet judgment would the last be in the field</div>
- <div class='line'>With the true poet.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Charles sent him a hundred pounds: the poet,
-in the fulness of gratitude, wrote "A petition
-from poor Ben to the best of monarchs, masters, and
-men"--full of gaiety and good-humour, yet touching,
-even in its sparkling wit. The petition
-prayed that His Majesty would make his father’s
-“hundred marks a hundred pounds,” alluding to
-the pension granted by King James. The petition
-was granted, and in the patent by which the
-annuity was confirmed, it was said, “especially
-to encourage Jonson to proceed in those services
-of his wit and penn, which we have enjoined unto
-him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>A tierce of Canary accompanied this act of
-bounty. It was Jonson’s favourite wine, and the
-King, from his private bounty, sent it to the
-sick poet. It was to be a yearly gift, not only to
-Jonson, but to his successors; and the wine--Spanish
-Canary--was to be taken from his
-Majesty’s cellars at Whitehall, out of the stores of
-wine “remaining therein.” Charles little anticipated
-that even his love of the drama should be
-made a cause of reproach to him at his trial.
-“Had the King but studied Scripture half as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>much as he studied Ben Jonson or Shakspeare!”
-was the cry of the Puritans.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Jonson might now have been tolerably happy,
-had not his former coadjutor, Inigo, still borne
-him enmity for having, during the preceding
-year, placed his own name before that of the
-royal architect. The conduct of Jones in this
-respect has been placed in its true light by a letter
-from a Mr. Perry to Sir Thomas Pickering.<a id='r223' /><a href='#f223' class='c013'><sup>[223]</sup></a>
-In that letter it is stated that Inigo used his
-“predominant power” at Court to injure Jonson,
-then bed-ridden and impoverished, as the poet
-was. Henceforth, Aurelian Townshend, a poet
-scarcely known, was employed to invent the
-masques represented at Court, in conjunction
-with Inigo Jones.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The same year that was marked by the death
-of Buckingham witnessed poor Jonson’s “fatal
-stroke,” as he termed it, of palsy. He never
-recovered this attack of 1628, and his days
-were overclouded by successive mortifications.
-Hitherto the city of London had given him a
-pension for his services. At the very time when
-it was most needed by the forlorn dramatist, it
-was withdrawn, but restored three years afterwards.
-The office for which he received this
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>annuity was that of City Chronologer. The plea
-made for its cessation was that there had been
-“no fruits of his labours in that his place,”
-which place was to commemorate signal events;
-other sources of emolument were also withheld,
-on the plea that the fruits of that now exhausted
-brain were no longer forthcoming.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But bright instances of compassion and generosity
-stood forth amid all this gloom. Amongst
-the great patrons of the drama was William
-Cavendish, the first Earl of Newcastle, declared
-by Cibber to be “one of the most finished gentlemen
-and distinguished patriots of his time.”
-He had been constituted governor to Prince
-Charles, for whom he ever retained the most
-loyal affection. Of this nobleman it was said
-that he understood horsemanship, music, and
-poetry; but that he was a better horseman than
-a musician, a better musician than a poet. His
-wife, the eccentric Margaret Lucas, wrote of him
-that “his mind was above his fortune, his generosity
-above his purse, his courage above danger,
-his justice above bribers, his friendship above
-self-interest, his truth too firm for falsehood, his
-temperance beyond temptation.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was by no means prejudicial to the popularity
-of this fine specimen of an English nobleman
-that “he was fitter to break Pegasus for a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>manège</em></span> than to mount him on the steps of
-Parnassus.” He wrote a work entitled, “A new
-Method and Extraordinary Invention to Dress
-Horses and Work them according to Nature, as also
-to Perfect Nature by the Subtlety of Art.” The
-work, a folio, was succeeded by various comedies,
-several of them written when Lord Newcastle was
-in banishment, and acted, after his return to England,
-at Blackfriars. He wrote, it is said, in the manner
-of Ben Jonson, to whom he was a kind patron.
-The Earl was a singular compound of military
-skill and ardour with literary tastes; by him Sir
-William Davenant, poet-laureate after Jonson’s
-death, was made Lieutenant-General of the
-Ordnance.<a id='r224' /><a href='#f224' class='c013'><sup>[224]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His wife, who at the time Ben Jonson knew
-her was Countess of Newcastle, and afterwards
-Duchess, is one of the most voluminous of writers
-among the (now) long catalogue of literary ladies
-in this country. She was at once ridiculous and
-estimable--a combination of qualities painful to
-friends, but never acknowledged by her husband,
-who revered her talents, and tried to defend
-what was incomprehensible to the learned--her
-philosophy. In private life she was reserved,
-living almost entirely among her books, or in
-contemplation, or writing indefatigably. Even
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>during the night, one of the Duke’s secretaries is
-said to have slept on a truckle bed in a closet in
-her bedroom, in order to be ready to answer any
-sudden bursts of inspiration that might occur;
-and the summonses to John, “to get up and write
-down her Grace’s suggestions,” were frequent and
-wearisome. Kind, pious, charitable, generous,
-and really gifted, though romantic and visionary,
-this excellent lady’s peculiarities might have furnished
-Molière with a model for his “Precieuses
-Ridicules;” but, to Ben Jonson, they were
-lessened by the vast amount of amiability that
-welcomed the poet to her stately abode, or, better
-still, relieved him in his poverty and want.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>When the Earl and Countess of Newcastle
-heard of the poet’s play being condemned--when
-they learned that various copies of complimentary
-verses had been addressed to him by admirers,
-pitying his humiliation--the Earl, worthy of the
-name of Cavendish (so dear to England), <a id='corr259.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sent'>sent to</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_259.20'><ins class='correction' title='sent'>sent to</ins></a></span>
-request a transcript of them. The reply is very
-touching:--<a id='r225' /><a href='#f225' class='c013'><sup>[225]</sup></a></p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>"<span class='sc'>My Noblest Lord</span>, and my Patron by
-Excellence--I have here obeyed your commands,
-and sent you a packet of my own praises, which
-I should not have done if I had any stock of
-modesty in store; but ‘obedience is better than
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>sacrifice,’ and you command it. I am now like
-an old bankrupt in wit, that am driven to pay
-debts on my friends’ credit; and, for want of
-satisfying letters, to subscribe bills of exchange.</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Your devoted</div>
- <div class='line in8'>“<span class='sc'>Ben Jonson</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c029'>"4th February, 1632.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“To the Right Hon. the Earl of Newcastle.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>Also note, same page:--</p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>"<span class='sc'>My Noblest Lord and best Patron</span>--I
-send no borrowing epistle to provoke your lordship,
-for I have neither fortune to repay, nor
-security to engage, that will be taken; but I
-make a most humble petition to your lordship’s
-bounty to succour my present necessities this
-good time of Easter; and it shall conclude a
-begging request hereafter on behalf of</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>"Your truest bondsman and</div>
- <div class='line in9'>"Most thankful servant,</div>
- <div class='line in28'>“B. J.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>One of these complimentary poems was written
-by Lucius Cary, Lord Falkland--a patriot, a
-soldier, and a poet, the very model of that refined
-spirit of chivalry which never recovered itself
-after the Rebellion. There must have been consolation
-in such a strain, from such a man; but
-poor “old Ben,” as he was now called, was almost
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>past consolation. He was engaged on another
-play, “The Majestic Lady.” The world, who
-had then deemed the old man dead,<a id='r226' /><a href='#f226' class='c013'><sup>[226]</sup></a> received it
-as the injudicious effort of a mind enfeebled.
-Dryden, even, who should have forborne from the
-poor triumph over him whom he wrongly considered
-a “driveller and a show,” called these last
-plays “Ben’s dotages;” but, though feebler than
-his former dramas, they exhibit no traces of
-<em>dotage</em>--that invidious and almost cruel expression.<a id='r227' /><a href='#f227' class='c013'><sup>[227]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Sustained by the Earl of Newcastle, praised by
-the noble Falkland, pensioned by the King, one
-might have supposed that Jonson’s last days
-would have been peaceful, though no longer
-cheerful. But he had debts; and he was forced--bed-ridden,
-shaken in body and mind--to write on
-to the very last. His latest effort was an interlude
-welcome of King Charles to Welbeck, on his way
-to Scotland; for which a tribute from Jonson’s
-muse was commanded by the ever-friendly and
-munificent Newcastle.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The timely gratuity sent to the poet, when the
-interlude was ordered, “fell,” he wrote, “like the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>dew of Heaven on his necessities.” He wrote to
-his patron in terms of gratitude, warm and expressive,
-and creditable to himself and that
-benefactor.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He continued at his desk; and a fragment of
-the “Last Shepherd,” one of his last efforts
-which is preserved, proves that his fancy was unclouded.
-Hitherto it has been painful to trace
-his decay--to record his distress; but now light
-came to his death-bed, and came from on high.
-Penitence, prayer, conviction of the true faith in
-our Holy Apostolic Church, confession of sins,
-hope, and rest--these were the Heavenly lights
-that broke over the gloom of his latter hours.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Happily--and let the fact he impressively
-recorded--his parents had carefully impressed on
-his infancy deep religious convictions.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>As he lay, neglected by his former associates,
-and even believed by the worldly to be dead--and
-dead, indeed, was he to them--the impressions
-of his duty to his Maker grew more frequent
-and stronger in his affection.<a id='r228' /><a href='#f228' class='c013'><sup>[228]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>To the Bishop of Winchester, who visited him
-during his long illness, he expressed the deepest
-contrition for having profaned the sacred name of
-his Creator in his plays. His “remorse was
-poignant;” and doubtless this sense of the responsibility
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>which is devolved on great talents, which
-comes to many too late, was the foundation of his
-heartfelt penitence and sorrow. He died on the
-5th of April, 1637--and on the 9th his remains
-were entombed in Westminster Abbey, on the
-north side, just opposite the escutcheon of
-Robertus de Ros. A common pavement stone
-was placed over his grave; but Sir John Young,
-of Great Milton, Oxfordshire, passing through
-the Abbey, noticed that the stone was without
-any inscription to mark where the great poet lay.
-Sir John, or, as Aubrey calls him, “Jack”
-Young, gave one of the workmen eighteen-pence
-to cut an inscription; and the words, “O rare
-Ben Jonson!” were carved as a temporary distinction.
-Meantime, the admirers of the deceased
-poet were collecting a subscription to defray the
-expense of a suitable<a id='r229' /><a href='#f229' class='c013'><sup>[229]</sup></a> monument to “poor Ben;”
-but the Rebellion breaking out, the project was
-abandoned, and the money returned to the
-subscribers.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>No fewer than thirty-four elegies on Ben
-Jonson were collected by Dr. Duppa, the Bishop
-of Winchester, and published under the title of
-“Jonson’s Verbius;” and amongst the authors
-were Lord Falkland, Ford, Waller, George
-Donne, Lord Buckhurst, and other illustrious
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>names. But perhaps there is no tribute more
-gratifying to the admirers of Ben Jonson than
-that of Taylor, the water-poet, who had met him
-at Leith. Jonson, be it remembered, had walked
-to Edinburgh, yet he could not see the humble
-poet without giving him what he could ill afford
-to bestow.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“At Leith,” says Taylor, “I found my long-approved
-and assured good friend, Master Benjamin
-Jonson, at one Master John Stuart’s house.
-I thank him for his great kindness; for at my taking
-leave of him, he give me a piece of gold, of
-two-and-twenty shillings value, to drink his health
-in England; and withall willed me to remember
-his kind commendations to all his friends. So,
-with a friendly farewell, I left him as well as I
-hope never to see him in a worse state; for he is
-among noblemen and gentlemen that know his
-true worth, and their own honours, where with
-much respective love he is entertained.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The sum, as Gifford remarks, was not, in those
-days, an inconsiderable one; and there was something
-graceful and touching in the kindness of
-one placed so high, as Jonson was in literary fame,
-to the humbler poet.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This sketch of Ben Jonson’s life and writings
-may serve to illustrate the manners of those
-times, and the nature of that society in which
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>George Villiers lived. In every revel Buckingham
-was the most distinguished courtier. In every
-masque, during King James’s life, he played a
-part. He knew the poet at Wilton; there can
-be little doubt that the friends of Villiers were the
-patrons of poor Ben. The panegyrist of the
-Duke, Lord Clarendon, lived, as he has himself
-declared, “many years on terms of the most
-friendly intercourse with Jonson.” In that conversation,
-praised by this historian “as very good,
-with men of most note,” Villiers must have
-borne a part; whilst Camden and Selden mingled
-with poor Ben, with the Sackvilles, the Sidneys,
-the Herberts, and the numerous family of
-Villiers.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span></p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c021'>BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER--THEIR ORIGIN--THEIR JOINT PRODUCTIONS--CHARACTER OF BISHOP FLETCHER--ANECDOTES ABOUT THE USE OF TOBACCO--FORD, THE DRAMATIST--HOWELL--SIR HENRY WOTTON--THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM CONSIDERED.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span><span class='large'>CHAPTER VI.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c022'>Among the young Templars who devoted themselves
-to the drama during the times of George
-Villiers, was Francis Beaumont. Born in the
-same county as that in which Buckingham’s
-family were settled, and bearing the same name
-as the Duke’s mother, there is every probability
-of there being some tie of consanguinity between
-the poet and the peer.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Beaumont, like his colleague Fletcher, was one
-of ancient and honourable family; and, as such,
-entitled to be called to the Bar. It might be
-satisfactory to some of the lovers of literature to
-find that its pursuit, in the days of the Stuart
-Kings, was most frequently the choice of men
-of high connections, and by them considered
-as equal in position to the calling of the Bar, and
-far superior to that of the Church, or of medicine.
-The personal tastes of James, the passionate love
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>of the drama evinced by Charles, by Henrietta
-Maria, and by Villiers, encouraged aspiring men
-to a display of genius which might have long
-been hidden in a lawyer’s wig, or extinguished
-for ever beneath the coif. Men were less shackled
-then by conventionalities than in the present day.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The father of Francis Beaumont was one of
-the judges of the Court of Common Pleas during
-the reign of Elizabeth, and the family seat was
-Grace-Dieu, in Leicestershire. Two gifted sons
-emerged from this ancient Manor-house to the
-universities--John Beaumont,<a id='r230' /><a href='#f230' class='c013'><sup>[230]</sup></a> who became a
-Gentleman Commoner at Broad-gate Hall, Oxford;
-and Francis, who was educated at Cambridge.
-Both were entered at the Inns of Court:
-Francis at the Inner Temple, the popular resort
-of Cambridge men; John, however, retired to
-Grace-Dieu, married into the family of Fortescue,
-and devoted his peaceful days to translations of
-the classics, and to religious poems, which even
-Ben Jonson eulogized. Amongst them is the
-“Crown of Thorns,” a poem in eight books.
-Whether from Buckingham’s influence, or from
-his own merit, or from both conjoined, is not
-known, but he was knighted by Charles in 1626.
-He survived that honour only two years, dying
-in the same year in which Buckingham was killed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>His brother, Francis Beaumont, born in 1586,
-had a less peaceful career. Endowed with no
-ordinary abilities, he became acquainted with
-those whose example was not calculated to promote
-the due attention to legal studies. Ben
-Jonson and John Fletcher were then in favour
-with the public. Jonson in the decline of life,
-Fletcher almost in the dawn of his celebrity.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Fletchers, like the Beaumonts, were a family
-of talent; and the famous friendship, or partnership,
-which produced so much, and to which we owe some
-of the most beautiful passages of poetry, linked to
-the most unreadable, was the result of that community
-of tastes and studies which is promoted
-by the education at an English university.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Fletcher, as well as Beaumont, had been at
-Cambridge; and his father, Dr. Richard Fletcher,
-Bishop of London, having been a benefactor to
-Benet College, that society was chosen for his
-matriculation. He came to London, and meeting,
-at some one or other of the clubs, with Francis
-Beaumont, they wrote plays in concert. Fletcher,
-who was ten years younger than his partner, had
-the most wit, the greatest luxuriance of fancy, the
-most extended conception, and lavish prodigality
-of improprieties. Beaumont had the soundest
-judgment, and employed it in cutting down young
-Fletcher’s daring flights of fancy. Both assisted
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>in forming the plots; since Beaumont happened
-to be the elder of the two, his name appears first
-in the literary firm, but it ought, in strict propriety,
-to be Fletcher and Beaumont, instead
-of Beaumont and Fletcher.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>They worked out the plots together; and one
-night, as they sat in a tavern, concocting a play,
-Fletcher undertook “To kill the King.” He was
-overheard by a waiter, who gave information of
-their traitorous designs; instantly the two young
-men were apprehended, and all the terrors of the
-law were before them--until they succeeded in justifying
-themselves, when the affair ended in mirth.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Beaumont, meantime, was gaining the confidence
-even of the formidable Ben Jonson, who
-submitted some of his works to his criticism before
-publication. The young lawyer had that skill in
-forming plots which seems like a natural gift,
-and which even good writers are unable to acquire;
-and he is said to have concocted some of
-those on which Jonson’s plays are founded.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Meantime, he wrote a little drama called “A
-Mask of Gray’s Inn Gentleman,” and a poem entitled
-“The Inner Temple.” Jonson, grateful
-for his aid, and admiring his talents, poured forth
-his delight in these lines:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“How I do love thee, Beaumont, and thy muse,</div>
- <div class='line'>That unto me do’st such religion use</div>
- <div class='line'>How I do fear myself that am not worth</div>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>The least indulgent thought thy pen drops forth;</div>
- <div class='line'>At once thou mak’st me happy, and unmak’st;</div>
- <div class='line'>And giving largely to me more than tak’st.</div>
- <div class='line'>What fate is mine that so itself bereaves?</div>
- <div class='line'>What fate is thine, that so thy friend deceives?</div>
- <div class='line'>When, even there when most thou praisest me,</div>
- <div class='line'>For writing better I must envy thee.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>But, unhappily, Beaumont’s career was ended
-before he had attained the age of thirty. He was
-buried in St. Benedict’s within St. Peter’s, Westminster.
-No inscription on his tomb recalls the
-merits so soon closed in death; but Bishop Corbet,
-the author of the “Grave Poem,” and Sir John
-Beaumont, commemorated them in epitaphs
-which are to be found in their works. Frances
-Beaumont, the poet’s only daughter, survived
-him many years; but lost some of her father’s
-manuscript poems as she went to Ireland by sea.
-Beaumont died in 1615, just at the crisis of
-Villiers’ early career, when he became first the
-subject of King James’s notice. Notwithstanding
-his premature death, his plays attained an almost
-unrivalled popularity. Dryden tells us that they
-were the most popular entertainments of the
-time--two of them being acted through the year
-for one of Shakspeare’s or Jonson’s; there
-being, he adds, a certain gaiety in the comedies
-of Beaumont and Fletcher, and a pathos in
-their serious plays, which accorded with the taste
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>or humour of all men. Posterity, however, does
-not admit of the comparison; but it is impossible
-to say whether, if the lives of these two dramatists
-had been spared, their powers might not have enabled
-them far to exceed even the fanciful and poetical
-works which they found time to accomplish.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Fletcher died of the plague, in 1625, at the
-age of forty-five, and his remains were carried to the
-church of St. Mary Overie, where those of Massinger
-were deposited--and it has been said that
-they were both interred in the same tomb; but
-of this there is no certainty.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is, perhaps, the greatest compliment we
-can pay to the present state of society to say
-that the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher can
-never be listened to by an English audience, as
-long as Englishwomen have one principle of delicacy,
-or Englishmen any respect for virtue, remaining.
-Those, however, who desire to judge
-of the poetical power of Fletcher will delight in
-his poem of the “Faithful Shepherdess,” which
-Milton thought worthy of imitation in his mask
-of “Comus.” Little is known of John Fletcher
-personally; but he lived in times when every
-nerve was touched by stirring events, and when
-many of the old memories which clung to men’s
-minds were dramatic and tragical. His father,
-when Dean of Peterborough, had attended Mary,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>Queen of Scots, to her execution. The good
-man, looking, perhaps, for that preferment which
-followed, and forgetting the peril, the misery of
-sudden conversions, had urged the heroic Queen
-to change her religion, even at that solemn hour
-when the heart clings the most closely to the impressions
-of youth. He repeated his arguments;
-then she begged him three or four times to desist.
-“I was born,” she said, “in this religion--I
-have lived in this religion--and am resolved to
-die in this religion.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In spite of his vehement Protestantism, the
-Bishop had some small and great failings; he was
-an inveterate taker of tobacco, which was then
-not only imported, but reared in Ireland and
-England. The Bishop probably considered tobacco
-to be, as Burton, in his “Anatomy of Melancholy,”
-describes it, “a vertuous herbe, if it be well
-qualified, opportunely taken, and medecinally
-used;” but he did not follow the advice of that
-admirable writer in the moderation with which
-the snuff-box and the pipe should be indulged in.
-The prelate fell into an excess in the use of tobacco,
-to which Camden, in his History of England,
-imputed his death. The narcotic weed was
-indeed one of those luxuries of the age, which was
-most abused in the time of Buckingham. Burton
-anathematizes it--“as it is commonly used by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>most men, who take it as tinkers do ale; ’tis a
-plague, a mischiefe, a violent purger of goods,
-lands, healthe, hellish, devilish, damned tobacco,
-the ruin and overthrow of bodye and soule.”<a id='r231' /><a href='#f231' class='c013'><sup>[231]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But no considerations of this nature could
-either restrain Bishop Fletcher, or convince the
-gallants of the day that they were ruining either
-body or soul in their love of tobacco. It was very
-generally employed in the form of snuff by both
-sexes in the seventeenth century, and was allowed
-even in the royal presence.<a id='r232' /><a href='#f232' class='c013'><sup>[232]</sup></a> “Before the meat
-came smoking to the board,” says Dekker, “our
-gallant must draw out his tobacco-box, and the
-ladle for the cold snuff into the nostril, all which
-artillery may be of gold or silver, if he can reach
-his several tricks in taking it, as the whiff, the
-ring, &amp;c., for these are complements that gain
-gentlemen no mean respect.”<a id='r233' /><a href='#f233' class='c013'><sup>[233]</sup></a> It was the custom
-to raise the snuff with a spoon to the nose; the
-snuff or pouncet-box having been long in vogue,
-charged, before the discovery of Ralegh, with
-cephalic powder, known since the time of Herodotus:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“He was perfumed like a milliner,</div>
- <div class='line'>And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held</div>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>A pouncet-box, which ever and anon</div>
- <div class='line'>He gave his nose.”<a id='r234' /><a href='#f234' class='c013'><sup>[234]</sup></a></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>It was in vain that every power was combined
-to crush the practice of smoking, of the inveteracy
-of which Bishop Fletcher affords a memorable example.
-Monarchs united to oppose it, and it was
-even condemned on religious grounds; but that plea
-made no impression on Bishop Fletcher. Elizabeth
-had published an edict against it, assigning as a reason
-that her subjects, by employing the same
-luxuries as barbarians, would become barbarous.
-James I. published his famous counterblast to
-tobacco, comparing it to the “horrible Stygian
-smoake of the pit that is bottomless;” and imposed
-on it a prohibitory duty of six shillings and
-eight-pence per pound on its importation--an impost
-which Charles continued, making tobacco a
-royal monopoly, as it still is in France and the
-Netherlands--the duty having been only twopence
-a pound in the reign of Elizabeth. Still
-smoking prevailed; Ralegh had introduced it after
-the return of Sir Francis Drake from America,
-and all fashionable men practised it. Villiers,
-more especially, was probably among the most
-inveterate, after his residence in Spain; a pipe,
-a mug of ale, and a nutmeg were the right style
-at the Mitre and the Mermaid; and probably
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>found toleration even in the hall of Burleigh, or
-at New-hall.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It seems hard to challenge the self-indulgence
-of Bishop Fletcher, or to grudge him a luxury
-which assisted Sir Isaac Newton in his contemplative
-mood, and soothed Hooker when a shrewish
-wife nearly drove him mad with vexation.
-Nevertheless, smoking, or taking snuff, is said
-to have ended Dr. Fletcher’s days. He had also
-trials of another kind to his health. He was the
-bishop who offended Elizabeth by taking a second
-wife, and that wife a handsome widow, Lady
-Baker, of Kent. The Queen, thinking that one
-wife was enough for a bishop, forbade him her
-presence, and ordered Archbishop Whitgift to
-suspend him, and whether from her Majesty’s
-displeasure, or from the effects of tobacco, he died
-suddenly in his chair; “being well, sick, and dead
-in one quarter of an hour.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The family of Fletcher were largely imbued
-with poetic fervour. Giles, the bishop’s brother,
-was a man of great learning; and his two
-sons, John and Phineas, were conspicuous
-during the reign of James I. for their learning
-and poetry. Phineas, whose name occurs in the
-biography of Villiers, wrote “The Purple Island,”
-an allegorical description of man--a much extended
-version of “Spenser’s Allegory” in his second
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>book. He also composed “Piscatory Eclogues
-and Miscellanies;” and his time was divided between
-the duties of his calling (for he was a
-clergyman) and the delight of composition. His
-brother Giles was, says Anthony Wood, equally
-“beloved of the muses and the graces.” The
-Fletchers were, indeed, remarkable for their gifts.
-Benlowes, in his verses to Phineas, thus expresses
-his sense of their family attributes:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“For ’twere a stain, Nature’s, not thy own;</div>
- <div class='line'>For thou art poet born; who know thee know it;</div>
- <div class='line'>Thy brother, sire--thy very name’s a poet.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>The fame of Giles Fletcher rests chiefly on his
-poem called “Christ’s Victory,” which is printed
-with the “Purple Island” by his brother Phineas.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Another of the young lawyers whose genius
-irradiated the drama in the time of Villiers--was
-John Ford, a great genius, and a prudent man,
-as far as we can judge by the close of his career.
-Like Fletcher and Beaumont, Ford was well-born,
-and had a great advantage in being descended,
-on his mother’s side, from the Chief
-Justice Popham. He came to London and entered
-at Gray’s Inn, then, as Stowe tells us, “a
-goodly house,” now the very <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>acmé</em></span> of dismal and
-decaying dinginess. It was illumined by the
-presence of Lord Bacon, as it had recently been
-by that of Lord Burleigh; and when Ford took
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>chambers in the Inn, there were pleasant gardens
-for the gay young students, in which they could
-walk and ruminate at their leisure; whilst Gray’s
-Inn Lane, furnished with fair buildings and many
-tenements, as Stowe also tells us, opened on the
-north with a view of the fields leading to Highgate
-and Hampstead; and there, too, dwelt
-Hampden and Pym, the vicinity of whom must
-have stirred up the spirits of the young disputants,
-whose ardour for liberty was excited during the
-days of the Remonstrance--the time of Buckingham’s
-impeachment--and in those when the first
-tax for the navy was levied.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Ford, however, cared little, it appears, for those
-stormy questions, but much for the drama, and
-more for the law, to which he was brought up,
-and in the practice of which he was wise enough
-to continue. A young man of a dramatic turn had
-many temptations, in those days, to sacrifice the
-hopes of a slow advancement for the brilliant
-success of a poet’s career. Ford, however, had
-a staid cousin at Gray’s Inn, at the time when he
-became a member of the Middle Temple, in 1602.
-This relative, also a John Ford, persuaded him “to
-stick to the law;” and Ford, in after-life, recorded
-the obligation with gratitude.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Ford’s first production was not dramatic.
-When only seventeen years of age, he wrote
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>“Fame’s Memorial,” a tribute to one of the most
-popular, and at the same time one of the most
-unfortunate, noblemen of the day. The fate of
-the ill-starred Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy--afterwards
-Earl of Devonshire--impressed the
-young poet so forcibly as to impel him, without
-any personal knowledge of this hero, to write
-this <cite>In Memoriam</cite>. “The life of Lord Mountjoy,”
-remarks Hartley Coleridge, “is the finest subject
-of biography unoccupied.” He was the generous
-rival of Essex, with whom, nevertheless, he had
-in early life fought a duel. Blount being “a
-very comely man,” attracted the attention of
-Queen Elizabeth. He distinguished himself at a
-tilt, and she sent him a chess-queen of gold,
-enamelled, which he tied on his arm with a
-crimson ribbon. Essex, on seeing this, laughed
-scornfully, and said, “Now I perceive every fool
-must have a favour!” Blount challenged him,
-and they fought at Marylebone, where the Earl
-was disarmed and wounded. Nevertheless, the
-combatants became firm friends even in early life,
-and, in their later days, generous rivals.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Unhappily, an attachment was formed between
-the handsome Charles Blount and the Lady
-Penelope, the sister of Essex. She was, however,
-under the guardianship of what was then
-called the Court of Wards. She was, therefore,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>forced to marry Lord Rich. The result was
-melancholy; and she became henceforth the
-mistress of the brave, but unhappy, Blount, now
-Lord Mountjoy, and their connection was well
-known. On the death of Rich, the guilty pair were
-married by Laud, then Bishop of London.
-King James, on that occasion, said to Mountjoy,
-“You have married a fair woman with a foul
-heart.” Perhaps he was too severe in his judgment,
-yet the gallant Mountjoy felt the opprobrium.
-His worldly prospects were marred by
-the union; so long as the attachment with Lady
-Penelope had been merely understood, the world
-had received her, and honoured him; but, when
-they were married, the guilty pair were slighted
-and contemned. “However bitter the cup of
-duty may be, duty commands us to drink it even
-to the dregs.”<a id='r235' /><a href='#f235' class='c013'><sup>[235]</sup></a> The sentiment is just, and Mountjoy
-felt it so. His error was redeemed by suffering.
-He died, it is said, of a broken heart, having
-long pined away under neglect and mortification.<a id='r236' /><a href='#f236' class='c013'><sup>[236]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>To the Lady Penelope, the survivor of this
-sad romance, Ford addressed his “Fame’s Memorial.”
-Mountjoy’s great valour in Ireland--of
-which he was the true conqueror--had won him
-undying renown. His domestic life touched the
-young poet’s feelings; and upon it he wrote his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>tragedy of the “Broken Heart.” <em>Penthea’s</em> lamentation
-for her “enforced marriage” recalls, in that
-exquisite play, poor Lady Penelope’s story:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>"<em>Penthea.</em>--How, Orgilus, by promise I was thine</div>
- <div class='line'>The heavens do witness!</div>
- <div class='line'>. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;How I do love thee</div>
- <div class='line'>Yet, Orgilus, and yet, must best appear</div>
- <div class='line'>In tendering thy freedom.</div>
- <div class='line'>. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Live, live happy--</div>
- <div class='line'>Happy in thy next choice.</div>
- <div class='line'>And oh! when thou art married, think on me</div>
- <div class='line'>With mercy, not contempt! I hope thy wife,</div>
- <div class='line'>Hearing my story, will not scorn my fall.</div>
- <div class='line'>Now let us part."</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>For some time Ford merely assisted other
-dramatists in their compositions; it was not until
-1628 that he produced “The Lover’s Melancholy,”
-which he dedicated to the “Noble Society
-of Gray’s Inn.” This play was suggested by
-Burton’s “Anatomy of Melancholy,” from which
-Ford, as well as Sterne, freely borrowed. After
-describing the rapidity, the impelling necessity
-with which the works of Massinger and Jonson
-were produced, it is agreeable to think of an
-author who was able “to write up to his own
-ideal.” Ford not only disdained all pandering to
-the public taste, but even regarded the emolument
-arising from his plays as a secondary consideration,
-after he was once fairly established in his profession.
-Nor was it then thought incompatible
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>to unite the character of a play-writer with that
-of a lawyer. The Templars, and other learned
-societies, were the great patrons of the drama.
-Often were the quaint halls of the Temple and
-of Gray’s Inn formed into temporary theatres for
-some favourite piece; and the talk of the young
-Templar was always of Blackfriars, the Curtain,
-or the Rose--of Will Shakespeare, and Ben
-Jonson, and Ford.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Ford conceived that his powers lay in the
-delineation of dark and horrible crimes; in
-the exhibition of a mysterious and hopeless
-melancholy. The moral of his dramas, whatever
-aspect it may bear in our days, was intended to
-be good; but the grossness of the times marred
-that intention, and his works show how impossible
-it is to be at once moral and indelicate. Even
-<em>Penthea</em> in the “Broken Heart,” exquisitely as
-her character is drawn, lessens our sympathy by
-expressions which no woman of the present day
-would utter in the presence of a lover, and that
-lover for ever severed from her by her indissoluble
-bonds with another man.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But Ford wrote in the spirit and language of
-his time, with a high purpose, and a coarse taste.
-“His genius,” it has been well remarked, “is as
-a telescope, ill-adapted for neighbouring objects,
-but powerful to bring within the sphere of vision
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>what nature has wisely placed at an unsociable
-distance.”<a id='r237' /><a href='#f237' class='c013'><sup>[237]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He chose for the subject of his historical play
-the story of “Perkin Warbeck.” With great
-skill he made this hero believe in his own royalty;
-and he has left in this play, according to the
-opinion of good judges, the best specimen of an
-historical tragedy after Shakspeare.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Ford resembled Shakspeare in some particulars
-of his fate. Happier in that than his associates,
-he was able to retire, at an early age, to his
-native Devonshire, where, tradition says, he lived
-to old age. It is stated that he married, and had
-children; but even of this there is no certainty.
-One thing alone is clearly shown, even in Ford’s
-dim history, that he regarded literature as the relaxation,
-and not the labour of his life; that he
-steadily pursued the profession in which untiring
-work, honourable conduct, and fair talents generally
-find an ultimate reward; that he was independent
-of patronage; that he could treat those
-to whom he addressed his dedications as men
-whom he was complimenting, not benefactors
-whom he was suing; and lastly, that he was able
-to leave the world of law and letters before that
-world’s enjoyments had been exhausted, or its
-disappointments had soured and wearied his spirit.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>His last play was the “Lady’s Trial;” but his
-fame chiefly rests on “Perkin Warbeck” and the
-“Broken Heart.” It is a proof of the great esteem
-entertained for genius by the Earl of Newcastle,
-“poor Ben’s” patron, that he was also
-friendly to Ford, who dedicated “Perkin Warbeck”
-to that nobleman.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It was not only by necessitous men of obscure extraction
-that poetry was cultivated in those times;
-on the contrary, some acquaintance with the Muses,
-although not thought essential in those who would
-fain rise to distinction as courtiers, was, at all
-events, deemed ornamental and advantageous.
-The name of Thomas Carew was distinguished in
-the reign of Charles I., as one of the most intellectual
-of his young courtiers.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was a man of an ancient Gloucestershire
-family; a branch of that race settled in Devonshire,
-and his education was that usually assigned
-to youths of good birth and expectations. He
-was entered at Corpus Christi College, in Oxford,
-and his academical career was succeeded, as was
-customary in those times, by travelling. From
-the grand tour, Carew returned replete with
-wit, fancy, and with a high reputation for accomplishments.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was, therefore, almost instantly noticed by
-Charles I., and, it is evident, enjoyed the favour
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>of Buckingham, to whom he addressed “Lines
-on the Lord Admiral’s recovery from sickness.”
-Charles made him one of his gentlemen of the
-Bedchamber, and Sewer in ordinary--appointments
-which brought the poet into an immediate
-contact with the principal characters of the Court;
-and he became the intimate associate of Lord
-Clarendon, the eulogist of Villiers, and the friend of
-Ben Jonson. As a writer of love sonnets, Carew has
-had few equals; and he may be termed, in that
-respect, the Moore of his age. His charming
-qualities as a companion, and the elegance of his
-verses, are praised by Clarendon; whilst his contemporaries--even
-those less happy than himself--saw
-in him, whom they declared to be one of a
-“mob of gentlemen,” who aspired to be eminent
-in polite literature, one whose career added lustre
-to the pursuits of literature. Strange to say,
-Carew was beloved and extolled by his less fortunate
-contemporaries; and even Ben Jonson gave
-him his meed of praise, which Carew returned
-with sympathy and admiration.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>After Jonson’s unlucky play, “The New Inn,”
-had been hissed off the stage, and Jonson had vented
-his rage in an ode, Carew addressed the angry
-poet in lines full of good sense, wit, and good
-feeling; and yet, he hints, with a sincerity
-as rare as it is fearless, that his powers were
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>somewhat weakened since poor Ben had brought
-out the “Alchemist.”</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in18'>“And yet ’tis true</div>
- <div class='line'>Thy cousin muse from the exalted line,</div>
- <div class='line'>Touched by the alchemist, doth since decline</div>
- <div class='line'>From that her zenith, and foretells a red</div>
- <div class='line'>And blushing evening when she goes to bed;</div>
- <div class='line'>Yet such as shall outshine the glimmering light</div>
- <div class='line'>With which all stars shall gild the following night.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Again he adds:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Let others glut on the extorted praise</div>
- <div class='line'>Of vulgar breath, trust thou to after-days:</div>
- <div class='line'>Thy laboured works shall live when Time devours</div>
- <div class='line'>The abortive offering of their hasty hours.</div>
- <div class='line'>Thou art not of their rank--the quarrel lies</div>
- <div class='line'>Within thine own verge; then let this suffice</div>
- <div class='line'>The wiser world doth greater thee confess</div>
- <div class='line'>Than all men else, than thyself only less.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Carew, notwithstanding the highly virtuous
-tone of the Court in which he lived, led an irregular
-life; and lived to mourn, in deep repentance,
-for that more than wasted portion of his existence,
-in which he gave way to the worst parts of
-his otherwise fine nature. When Ben Jonson
-had ceased to write, Carew was selected as the
-poet most calculated to supply the place of that
-great genius in providing masques for the Court.
-Only one, however, produced by him, remains.
-It is called “C&oelig;lum Britannicum.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Inigo Jones was again summoned to be one of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>the “Inventors,” to place the masque on the stage,
-and Henry Lawes composed the airs, and superintended
-the musical performance; but those to
-whose splendour and genius the perfection of this
-species of entertainment was owing, were no
-longer there. Villiers was gone; Ben Jonson had
-virtually quitted “the detracting world,” which
-he had once defied from his proud pre-eminence.
-The country was even then split up into factions.
-Happily for himself, Carew escaped their outbreak.
-He died in 1639, expressing heartfelt religious
-convictions and penitence.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Amongst the gentlemen writers, as they were
-styled, was Edmund Waller, who, at the time of
-Buckingham’s death, was a young man of twenty-three
-years of age. The lines addressed by him to
-Charles I., on the extraordinary composure which
-the King showed on hearing of that event, are
-well known. Even then Waller had been a member
-of Parliament, and had been elected to sit in that
-assembly whilst he was in his seventeenth year.
-Waller’s circumstances, his destiny, his views of
-life, his genius, his disposition, were as opposite to
-those of Massinger and Ben Jonson as can possibly
-be conceived. He seemed born a courtier;
-and every effort he made was to advance himself
-at first in that career, and afterwards as a politician.
-His first appearance as a poet, in his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>eighteenth year, was to congratulate King James
-on the escape of Prince Charles at St. Audera,
-when returning from Spain; and in this poem his
-polished verses, perfected, he alleged, by the study
-of Fairfax’s “Tasso,” were so turned as to excite
-the admiration of the literary world, by whom he
-was deemed the model of English versifiers. But,
-in spite of his alleged devotion to Charles, and
-notwithstanding his continuing to sit in Parliament,
-Waller sheltered himself during the storm
-that ensued, and went to study chemistry under
-the guidance of his kinsman, Bishop Morley--emerging
-only from his retreat at Beaconsfield to
-mingle in the delightful circle of wits and incipient
-heroes of whom the noble Falkland was the
-centre.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He married early; having, with a fortune of nearly
-four thousand a-year, espoused a city heiress,
-who died and left him a widower at the age of
-twenty-five. Then this accomplished man of the
-world looked out for rank, and paid his addresses,
-poetically at all events, to the lovely Dorothy Sidney,
-the eldest daughter of the Earl of Sidney. He
-apostrophized her as Saccharissa. She was, or he
-made her out to be, a proud and scornful beauty,
-and he turned to his "Amoret"--Lady Sophia
-Murray; but, though well-born, rich, favoured
-by Charles, and nephew of John Hampden by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>his mother’s side, so that he seemed secure of
-rising under any faction, Waller’s loves did not
-prosper in the direction to which he at first guided
-them; for he was wise in his generation, and could
-control his fancies by views of interest.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He married, therefore, a second time, “loving,
-doubtless, wisely and not too well;” but neither
-the name, condition, nor fortune of his second
-wife is mentioned by his biographers.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>From this time Edmund Waller’s career was despicable.
-In his heart a Royalist, he absented himself
-from the House of Commons whenever there
-was a chance of his being of service to the King,
-or of his committing himself. Yet he sent Charles
-a thousand gold pieces when the Royal standard
-at Nottingham was set up--and concocted, with
-a conspirator named Tomkyns, a plot for delivering
-the City and the Parliament into the hands
-of the Royalists. Nevertheless, he had been seconding
-“my Uncle Hampden” in the House, in
-his censure of Ship-money. When his plot--still
-called in history Waller’s plot, for he had
-the chief blame--when this base conspiracy, unworthy
-of any cause, was discovered, Waller confessed
-everything, and criminated everybody.
-Confounded with fear, he had yet the consummate
-hypocrisy to talk of his “remorse of conscience,”
-adding one to the long list of crimes
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>which that abused word is called to sanction or
-excuse. It is a satisfaction to know that he was
-nearly being hanged--that he was expelled the
-House--fined ten thousand pounds--and then
-“contemptuously suffered to go into exile.” Never
-was that party more fortunate than in getting rid
-of such a man.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He took refuge at Rouen, and lived there
-and in Paris until all his wife’s jewels were sold--for
-on them he lived. He was, however, at
-last allowed to return home, and again he sullied
-Beaconsfield with his presence. He hastened to
-flatter Cromwell, and even to propose, in his
-smooth and flattering verses, the substitution of a
-crown of gold for bays:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“His conquering head has no more room for bays,</div>
- <div class='line'>Then let it be as the glad nation prays;</div>
- <div class='line'>Let the rich ore be melted down,</div>
- <div class='line'>And the State fix’d by making him a crown:</div>
- <div class='line'>With ermine clad and purple, let him hold</div>
- <div class='line'>A royal sceptre made of Spanish gold!”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Cromwell, however, was far too wise to take
-the bait. The sycophant thought it expedient to
-write an ode on his death--for he was not certain
-that the great man’s power might not be perpetuated
-by his son. The instant, however, that
-the Restoration placed Charles II. on the throne,
-Waller was ready with his congratulatory ode.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>He dwelt on the guilt of the Rebellion; and, except
-that the flavour of spicy flattery was so
-poor as to provoke a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>bon mot</em></span> from Charles II.
-he might have succeeded. “Poets,” said the
-witty monarch, “succeed better in fiction than in
-truth.” But with Waller it was all fiction.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was soon a favourite at that easy, merry
-court; his poetry caused his unconquerable
-duplicity to be forgotten--or, if not forgotten,
-looked on even complacently by courtiers who
-held all virtue to be hypocrisy. He managed to
-please everybody; though a water-drinker, he
-was the life of Bacchanalian parties. It is owing
-to Clarendon that the renegade was not made
-Provost of Eton--a post for which he had actually
-the audacity to ask. He thence became the
-friend and ally of George Villiers, the second
-Duke of Buckingham, to whose age and time,
-rather than that of the subject of this memoir,
-one would gladly consign the apostate poet.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>One of his worst acts was to vote for the impeachment
-of Lord Clarendon; and here one would
-gladly end the record of the misdeeds of an able and
-accomplished man, distinguished almost as much
-for his eloquence as for his poetic productions.
-But Waller lived on; he was favoured by
-James II., who seems to have been cajoled by
-the flatteries which his royal brother had detected.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>Waller again in parliament, and now eighty years
-old, was permitted to speak jocularly with the
-monarch. One day he called Queen Elizabeth,
-in James’s presence, the “greatest woman in the
-world.” "I wonder," answered his Majesty,
-“you should think so; but it must be allowed
-she had a wise council.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"And when, sire," cried Waller, “did you ever
-hear of a fool choosing a wise one?”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>When it was known that the veteran courtier
-was going to marry his daughter to Dr. Birch, a
-clergyman, James sent a French gentleman to
-ask him how he could think of marrying his
-daughter to a falling church.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“The King does me great honour,” was the
-reply, “to concern himself about my affairs; but I
-have lived long enough to observe that this
-falling church has got a trick of rising again.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He foresaw the coming crisis, but lived not to
-have an opportunity of writing odes to William
-III. and his Queen. He now composed “Divine
-Poems,” and began to think, at the age of eighty-three,
-that possibly this world, and the courts of
-the Charles’s and James’s, were not everything
-that there was to value in life. When he found
-himself sinking, he said, “Take me to Coleshill”
-(his native place); “I should be glad to die, like
-the stag, where I was roused.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>He was, however, too near death to be removed;
-and he expired at Beaconsfield, in October, 1678,
-and thus escaped being the witness of another
-revolution.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Such were some of the eminent contemporaries
-of George Villiers, in an age so rich in intellectual
-force as to constitute it, in that respect alone, one
-of the most remarkable periods of English history.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But there were, among the <em>literati</em> of that day,
-two men whose observations were peculiarly
-directed towards the career of Villiers--these
-were James Howell, the letter-writer, and Sir
-Henry Wotton.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Howell’s well-known name is mixed up repeatedly
-in the various passages of the Duke of Buckingham’s
-foreign life. Howell was the son of a
-clergyman, at Abernant, in Carmarthenshire; was
-accordingly entered at Jesus College, Oxford, the
-great emporium of the Jones’s, Williams’s, Morgans,
-and Howells.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was, like many of his countrymen, “a true
-cosmopolite,” born, says Anthony Wood, neither
-to “house, land, lease, or office.” He had not the
-misfortune of having a position in life to lose, so
-he went to London, and became, through the
-interest of Sir Robert Mansel, steward to a glass-house
-in Bond Street, glass being a monopoly;
-whilst his elder brother rose to be Bishop of Bristol.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>Glass being by no means in its perfection, the
-proprietors of the work sent James Howell
-abroad, in order to hire foreign workmen, and to
-buy the best materials for a manufacture which
-they wished to improve; and James Howell
-joyfully accepted the mission. He travelled
-into France, Holland, Flanders, Spain, and
-Italy; and, setting off in 1619, encountered
-George Villiers in his French tour, came across
-him in Spain, and heard of him all the good
-and bad that he has detailed in his letters to
-England.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He gave up his stewardship, and posted again
-into Spain, in 1623, and was in that country
-when Charles I. and Buckingham were at Madrid.
-Like persons in the pit of a great theatre, Howell,
-in his half-commercial, half-diplomatic capacity,
-saw a great deal which the actors in that brilliant
-scene overlooked.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His ostensible reason for going to Spain was to
-reclaim a rich English ship which had been
-seized by the Viceroy of Sardinia; his real occupation
-was that of watching the Royal “wooer,” and
-his scarcely less conspicuous companion, Buckingham.
-Meantime, Howell was made a Fellow of
-Jesus College; and, in accepting this honour, he
-said he “should reserve his Fellowship, and lay it
-by as a warm garment against rough weather,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>should any fall on him.” And certainly he was
-destined to experience the changes and chances of
-fortune in no ordinary degree. He returned to
-London, and was appointed secretary to Lord
-Scrope, who was made Lord-President of the
-North. Howell, therefore, was transplanted to
-York; and, whilst there, was chosen member for
-Richmond, an honour for which he had not canvassed.
-He sat, therefore, in the parliament which
-opened in 1627--a session so important to Buckingham,
-and so fraught with consequences to the
-country.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Still, the apparently fortunate man was without
-any fixed employment. He had, however, talents
-which were then rare in this country; he spoke
-seven modern languages--and, without recording
-his own remark, which borders on levity, on that
-score, it must be admitted that few Englishmen
-either in that age or this can do the same.
-His merits were, in this respect, estimated by
-Charles I., who sent him in the quality of secretary
-to Robert, Earl of Leicester, to Denmark,
-when it became necessary to condole with the
-King of that State on the death of his consort,
-Charles’s Danish grandmother. Next, Howell
-was despatched to France, and subsequently to
-Ireland, where the Earl of Strafford appreciated
-his wonderful industry, and welcomed him kindly;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>he was intrusted by that ill-fated nobleman with
-business, first in Edinburgh and then in London;
-but his hopes of rising were crushed by the ruin
-of Strafford, and by the crash which ensued.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Charles, however, again despatched him to
-France, and made him, on his return, Clerk of
-the Council.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Poor Howell now believed that he had secured
-a permanent post, a fixed income, and a most
-agreeable residence, an apartment being allotted
-to him in Whitehall. The greater part of the
-old Tudor palace was then still standing; the
-noble gates built by Henry VIII. remained; the
-Banqueting-house was partially finished; all but
-the paintings by Vandyck, who was to have
-adorned the sides of that room, now used as a
-chapel, with paintings of all the history and procession
-of the Order of the Garter, were completed--that
-symmetrical fragment stood then as
-it now stands. Charles I. could as little have
-anticipated that George of Hanover would have
-made the room he destined for Ben Jonson’s
-masques into a chapel, with the apotheosis of
-James I. upon the ceiling, as he could have
-foreseen that one day he should be led out from
-one of the windows of the Banqueting-house to
-Whitehall-gate, where “cords to tie him down to
-the block had been prepared, had he made
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>any resistance to that cruel and bloody stroke.”<a id='r238' /><a href='#f238' class='c013'><sup>[238]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Equally unconscious of his royal patron’s doom
-as of his own fate, Howell established himself in
-that palace, the only danger of which seemed to
-be the frequent inundations of the Thames, by
-which Whitehall was often half submerged. But
-shortly afterwards the King left that palace to
-which he never returned but as a captive; and
-Howell also departed. But, coming back to
-London on private business, he was, in 1643,
-thrown into prison, his papers were seized, and he
-was committed in close custody to the Fleet.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This ancient prison had been, until that time, a
-place of durance for persons sentenced by the
-Council Table, then called the Court of the Star
-Chamber--so that Howell had the additional vexation
-of being apprehended by one of the warrants
-which he would himself have issued had the troubles
-of the Rebellion never commenced;--had
-things remained as they were when Lord Surrey
-suffered from its pestilent atmosphere, and when
-the importunate Lady Dorset was silenced in what
-was truly called by Surrey, “that noisome place.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Star Chamber was, however, it appears,
-abolished before the time when James Howell,
-descending Whitehall stairs, was rowed up the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>river Fleet, to a gate as portentous in its aspect
-and associations as the Traitor’s-gate at the
-Tower; and thence conducted to what was afterwards
-called the Common side of the prison.<a id='r239' /><a href='#f239' class='c013'><sup>[239]</sup></a>
-When the letter-writer entered its miserable
-courts, the Fleet had lost the dignity of a state
-prison for minor political offences, and was a place
-for debtors, and divided into two sides, the Master’s
-side and the Common side. In the Common
-side, to complete the horrors, was a strong-room,
-or vault, which has been described “to be like
-those in which the dead are interred, and wherein
-the bodies of persons dying are usually deposited
-till the coroner’s inquest has passed them.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Howell, as he entered the Common side, probably
-thought that he might live to be one of the
-mute inhabitants of that ghastly chamber--for he
-was not only suspected by the Parliament, but in
-debt. Wood, indeed, ascribes his captivity
-wholly to the curse of debt, brought on by his
-own extravagance; and since Howell, like many
-public men of the day, had no “income but such
-as he scrambled for,” and since it was an age of
-careless expenditure, Wood is, perhaps, in this
-statement, as he generally is, correct.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The character of the man of desultory life rose
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>under the trial. During five years the once free
-and happy James Howell lay in that den of
-misery--rendered more miserable by all that was
-going on in the world, of which he heard enough
-in his durance, perhaps too much. During that
-period Charles was beheaded; the gay precincts
-of Whitehall were stained with the blood of one
-whom Howell had reverenced as a royalist, but
-whose advisers, Buckingham, Laud, and Strafford,
-he had censured, as a man of the world, of
-sense and candour, could not fail to do. Whilst
-he lay in the place where Falkland had been sent
-for sending a challenge--where Prynne had paid
-the penalty for his “Histriomastix,” Howell’s
-thoughts no doubt reverted to the pleasant days of
-Charles’s youth, in the fields near Madrid, where
-plumed knights ran a course--or to the arena of
-the bull-fight. He dreamed, perhaps, of the incomparable
-Infanta, or of the stately Philip,
-and his gallant, flattered, sanguine English
-guests.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But he did better. Howell is not the only
-writer who has tried to bind up the wounds of a
-broken heart by authorship; or has succeeded in
-dissipating the hours of a long imprisonment by
-communicating not only with the world of letters,
-which was nearly extinct in general literature
-during the first year of the Protectorate, but
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>with those among the free, the sympathetic, and
-the celebrated who remembered the poor debtor
-in his cell. One of his most notable efforts was
-his own epitaph, beginning--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Here lies entomb’d a walking thing,</div>
- <div class='line'>Whom Fortune with the Fates did fling</div>
- <div class='line'>Between these walls.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>He wrote now his “Familiar Letters, Domestic
-and Foreign,” wisely putting no date on the
-epistles as to place. He composed also "Casual
-Discourses and Interlocutions between Patricius
-and Peregrin, touching the Distractions of the
-Times"--this work was the result of the Battle of
-Edge Hill--“Parables reflecting on the Times;”
-"England’s Tears for the Present War;" “Vindications
-of some Passages reflecting upon himself
-in Mr. Prynne’s book called the ‘Popish Royal
-Favourite,’” a work which coupled his name with
-that of Buckingham; and his “Epistolæ-Hoelianæ.”
-These works came out year after year. It is said
-by Wood that most of Howell’s letters were written
-in the Fleet, though some of them purported to
-have been sent from Madrid and other places.
-The fact is, he wrote for subsistence; and his
-works were popular and productive. His statements
-may, indeed, have been made so long after
-the events they relate occurred, as to render them
-doubtful; yet it is acknowledged that they contain
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>a good view of the actors in those stirring
-times--whilst they are almost the only letters that
-still preserve the memory of the writer among
-us.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Most of his other writings were political; one of
-his imaginative flights recalls, in the idea that originated
-it, the title of the pleasant brochure,
-“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>Voyage autour de ma chambre</em></span>,” in our own times.
-Howell’s composition is styled, “A Nocturnal
-Progress; or, a perambulation of such Countries
-in Christendom performed in one night by
-strength of imagination.” All the titles of his
-works are striking: “Winter Dream,” "A Trance,
-or News from Hell, brought first to town by
-Mercurius Acheronticus;"--this was published in
-1649, after the King’s death. He still, Royalist
-as he was, bore his misfortunes cheerfully;
-yet his loyalty sank at last beneath the pressure
-of starvation, and he yielded to expediency. It
-was not, however, until 1653 that his constancy
-broke down, and that he addressed to Oliver
-Cromwell his “Sober’s Inspections made into the
-carriage and consult of the late Long Parliament.”
-One may know the views he took from the title;
-but when he compliments the Lord Protector,
-compares him to Charles Martel, and descends to
-flattery, Howell loses our respect. Neither does
-he regain it by his “Cordial for the Cavaliers,”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>published in 1660, and answered by the “Caveat
-for the Cavaliers” of Sir Roger L’Estrange.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Payne Fisher, who had been poet-laureate to
-Cromwell, edited “Howell’s Works,” in which he
-calls the author the “prodigy of the age for the
-variety of his writings.” These were forty in
-number, and in “them all,” says Fisher, “there is
-something still new, either in the matter, method,
-or fancy, and in an untrodden tract.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>For the change of politics in the famous letter-writer
-his friends were prepared, when, after the
-King’s death, he wrote with what some call prudence,
-others pusillanimity, these words:--“I will
-attend with patience how England will thrive,
-now that she is let blood in the Basilican vein,
-and cured, as they say, of the King’s evil.”
-Nevertheless, Howell was made Historiographer-Royal
-in England by Charles II., who was so
-lenient to his enemies, so ungrateful to his
-friends. The place was even created for him;
-but death soon caused him to vacate it. He
-ended his chequered life in 1660, and-was buried
-in the Temple Church.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Among the few who remembered George
-Villiers with gratitude, or who endeavoured to
-rescue his memory from opprobrium, Henry
-Wotton, his biographer, appears in a conspicuous
-and favourable light. Most of the eminent men
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>of the time had been reared, and even trained, to
-public service, during the reign of Elizabeth,
-when strength of purpose, honesty, ability, and
-learning were the grounds of promotion in all the
-minor, as well as in the superior departments of
-the State. Henry Wotton, born in 1568, at
-Bocton Hall,<a id='r240' /><a href='#f240' class='c013'><sup>[240]</sup></a> in Kent, and descended from an
-ancient family, was a thoroughly-educated
-English gentleman. After some years’ instruction
-at Winchester School, he was entered at
-New College, Oxford. Close to that grand old
-college was Hart Hall, a sort of subsidiary
-establishment; and Wotton, perhaps from
-being a freshman, had his rooms in Hart
-Hall Lane. Here his chamber-fellow, as he
-was then called, was Richard Baker, the historian,
-who was entered at the same time,
-and born the same year, and whose predilections
-for letters resembled those of young Henry
-Wotton. The inestimable advantage of a companionship
-of such a nature cannot be too highly
-appreciated by those who watch the dawning
-mind of youth, and who desire them to have
-recourse to the only sure preventive of dissipation--employment.
-Baker, well known for his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>Chronicle, was also a writer on theological subjects,
-and a young man of sincere piety. His
-friend Wotton was then less distinguished for
-historical studies than for his wit and learning.
-For some reason, not explained, he left New
-College, and established himself in the then old-fashioned
-tenement of Queen’s College, in the High
-Street, where he was soon complimented by
-being selected to write a play for the inmates of
-that house to perform. He produced a tragedy
-called “Tancredo,” which was declared to manifest,
-in a very striking manner, his abilities for
-composition, his wit, and knowledge. Thus,
-like the gay Templar, or the student of Gray’s
-Inn, did the young Oxonian delight in the
-drama--which formed, to borrow a French expression,
-a sort of <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>debût</em></span> for wits; nor did Baker,
-though serious and plodding, despise the drama;
-and even when, in after life, he had been knighted
-at Theobald’s by King James, and Baker’s reputation
-stood high, he vindicated the stage against
-Prynne, in a work entitled “Theatrum Redivivum.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Wotton, after proceeding Master of Arts in his
-twentieth year, left Oxford, and passed a year in
-France; and then going on to Geneva, formed
-there the friendship of Casaubon and of Beza.
-He remained nine years in Germany and Italy,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>and returned to England an accomplished and enlightened,
-as well as a learned man; being, says his
-biographer, “a dear lover of painting, sculpture,
-chemistry, and architecture.” He was soon appreciated
-by Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, then
-high in favour with Elizabeth; and became one
-of that nobleman’s secretaries, and the most devoted
-of his friends. The parallel which he has
-left the world between Essex and Buckingham,
-and which Lord Clarendon answered, is written
-with an enthusiasm for the character of Wotton’s
-first patron, which can only have sprung from
-intimate acquaintance, and from that true affection
-which generous, impulsive natures, such as that
-of Essex, are likely to inspire.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>With Essex, Wotton remained until his patron
-was apprehended and attainted of treason; then
-he fled to France, and scarcely had he landed
-there when he heard that the Earl had been beheaded.
-He took refuge from solitude, and perhaps
-peril, in Florence, where the Grand Duke<a id='r241' /><a href='#f241' class='c013'><sup>[241]</sup></a>
-of Tuscany received him cordially. James I.
-was then reigning over Scotland; a plot threatened
-his life, and the Grand Duke having become
-aware of this, by some intercepted letters,
-sent Wotton, in disguise, to warn James of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>danger. Wotton spoke Italian perfectly; he,
-therefore, assumed the name and dress of an
-Italian, and, thus disguised, set off on his hazardous
-journey. Having been so deeply concerned in the
-affairs of Essex, he did not venture to pass into
-England. He travelled, therefore, into Norway,
-and, by that route, reached Scotland. He found
-the King at Stirling, and was introduced into his
-presence under the name of Octavio Baldi. He
-soon found an opportunity of disclosing himself
-to the King, and, after remaining three months
-in Scotland, he returned to Florence.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Queen Elizabeth’s death brought him back to
-England, where his favour with the new King
-was ensured. When James I. saw Sir Edward
-Wotton, he inquired if “he knew not Henry
-Wotton?”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"I know him well," was the reply, “for he is
-my brother.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The King then asked where he was, and
-ordered him to be sent for. When Wotton first
-saw his Majesty, James took him into his arms, and
-saluted him by the name of Octavio Baldi; then
-he knighted him, and nominated him Ambassador
-to Venice. But it was not easy, in those days,
-to avoid giving offence. The new Ambassador,
-passing through Augsburg, met there, amongst
-other learned men, his old friend, one Christopher
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>Flecamore, who requested him to write something
-in his Album, a book which even then
-Germans usually carried about with them; Sir
-Henry, complying, wrote a definition of an Ambassador
-in the Album. The sentence was given
-in Latin, as being a language common to all that
-erudite company, but the definition was, in
-English, this--“An Ambassador is an honest
-man sent to <em>lie</em> abroad for the good of his
-country.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This sentence was imparted, eight years afterwards,
-to one of King James’s literary opponents,
-a jealous Romanist priest, named Scioppius, who
-printed it in a work directed against the royal
-polemic, and which pretended to show upon what
-a degraded principle a Protestant acted. The
-book reached King James, who had the mortification
-of hearing that this definition of an ambassador,
-which happened to be then the correct
-one, whatever may now be the case, was exhibited
-in glass windows at Venice. For some time James
-was displeased, but on receiving Sir Henry’s
-explanation, he forgave him, saying that the
-delinquent “had commuted sufficiently for a
-greater offence.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The various embassies in which Sir Henry
-Wotton was engaged detained him abroad until
-1623, when he came home finally. A great
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>piece of preferment was then vacant; and, by
-the influence of the Duke of Buckingham, it was
-bestowed on Wotton. This was the post of
-Provost of Eton; but one great obstacle presented
-itself--Wotton had been everything that
-was useful and important, but he was not in
-orders; nevertheless, anything could be accomplished
-in those days--he was made a deacon, and
-held the Provostship from 1623 to 1639, when
-he died. The appointment did no discredit to
-him who procured it, for Wotton was an able,
-honest man, singularly liberal in his religious
-tenets for his time. He ordered that upon his
-grave, in the Chapel of Eton College, there
-should be a sentence, in Latin, decrying the
-itch for disputation as the real disease of the
-Church. He was a great enemy to disputation.
-On being asked, “Do you believe that a Papist
-can be saved?” he answered, “<em>You</em> may be
-saved without knowing that; look to yourself.”
-When he heard some one railing at the Romanists
-with stupid rancour, he said:--“Pray,
-sir, forbear, till you have studied these points
-better. There is an Italian proverb which says,
-‘he that understands amiss concludes worse;’
-forbear of thinking that the farther you go from
-the Church of Rome the nearer you are to
-God.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>Nevertheless, he was, like most lenient judges of
-the faith of others, a staunch adherent to his own.
-“Where was your religion to be found before
-Luther?” wrote a jocose Priest at Rome, seeing
-Sir Henry in an obscure corner of a church,
-listening to the beautiful service of the Vespers,
-and enjoying the exquisite music of a faith which
-appeals so much to the senses. “Where yours
-is not to be found--in the written Word of
-God,” was the answer, scribbled on a piece of
-paper underneath the interrogation.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Another evening Sir Henry sent one of the
-choir boys to his priestly friend with this question:--“Do
-you believe those many thousands
-of poor Austrians damned who were excommunicated
-because the Pope and the Duke of
-Venice could not agree about their temporalities?”
-To which inquiry the priest wrote
-in French underneath--"<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>Excusez moi, Monsieur.</em></span>"</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Such was the man whom Buckingham favoured;
-and who afterwards repaid the obligation by a
-beautiful, somewhat florid, but authentic biographical
-account of the Duke’s origin, his rise,
-his dangers, his services, and his death. Quaint
-but expressive language, genuine enthusiasm,
-and personal acquaintance, render this sketch one
-of the most delightful compositions of Sir
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>Henry’s pen. In comparing him, in prosperity
-and in adversity, to Essex, the master whom
-he loved, Wotton pays the Duke of Buckingham
-what he conceived to be the highest
-compliment. He was commencing a life of
-Martin Luther, and intending to interweave
-in it a history of the Reformation in Germany,
-when Charles I. prevailed on him to lay it
-aside, and to begin a history of England. That
-undertaking has something unfortunate associated
-with it. Rapin and Hume never lived to
-complete their works. Mackintosh died after
-leaving a noble fragment to increase our sorrow
-for his loss. Macaulay has expired before half
-his glorious task has been given to the world.
-Sir Henry Wotton had sketched out some short
-characters as materials, when his intentions and
-Charles’s commands were frustrated by death.
-His “Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, or a collection of
-Lives, Letters, and Poems, with characters of
-sundry personages, and other incomparable
-pieces of Language and Art, by the ever-memorable
-Sir Henry Wotton,”<a id='r242' /><a href='#f242' class='c013'><sup>[242]</sup></a> is a small octavo
-volume; yet large enough to create regret that
-one of such rare powers and opportunities had
-not written, with the candour of his nature, a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>history of the times in which he flourished. His
-“State of Christendom, or a most exact and
-curious discovery of many secret passages and
-hidden mysteries of the times,” supplies in some
-measure that deficiency.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Successful in life, Wotton was, in his death,
-fortunate in being the subject of an elegy from
-the pen of Cowley, then a young man of twenty-one,
-at Trinity College, Cambridge.<a id='r243' /><a href='#f243' class='c013'><sup>[243]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>If we except the encouragement given by the
-Duke of Buckingham to the masque, and the
-preference evinced by him for literature as one of
-the essential ingredients of civilized society, the
-progress of letters, it must be avowed, has owed
-little to his direct intervention.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Clarendon, though at the time of the Duke’s
-death patronized by Laud, was then a young
-lawyer, little more than twenty years of age.<a id='r244' /><a href='#f244' class='c013'><sup>[244]</sup></a>
-Being brought into contact with Archbishop
-Laud, during the course of a cause in which he
-was even then retained by some London merchants,
-Clarendon, at that time Edward Hyde,
-must not only have heard much of Buckingham,
-but have known him personally; but the public
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>career of the future historian did not commence
-till 1640. As, however, Hyde then affected the
-fine gentleman and the man of letters rather than
-the lawyer, he probably, in those characters, had
-opportunities of seeing Buckingham on the same
-footing as that on which he became acquainted
-with Falkland, Selden, Waller, Carew, and
-others; but he owed nothing, as far as we can
-trace, to the friendship of Villiers.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Ralegh and Bacon were above the patronage of
-the favourite; the one was suffered to die in
-prison, the other was long alienated from his
-early admirer and sometime pupil, the Duke.
-Nevertheless, there were not a few persons, as it
-has been seen, eminent as writers, who were
-indirectly assisted and protected by Buckingham,
-and who paid him the tribute of their gratitude
-or admiration. Still the aid he gave to
-art was far more liberal than any that he afforded
-to letters.</p>
-
-<hr class='c030' />
-
-<p class='c019'>Such is the view taken of the redeeming services
-performed to society by a man who had
-much in his public career to be forgiven. With respect
-to the acts to which he prompted Charles, to
-screen himself, no defence can be offered: but for
-the general bearing of that King’s conduct towards
-his Parliament, he must be deemed irresponsible,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>since his death neither changed his Sovereign’s
-line of principle, nor moderated his actions.
-Buckingham was less a man of evil intentions
-than of expediency; to get out of a difficulty,
-he imperiled the freedom of the people, and the
-safety of the Crown, when he might bravely have
-courted inquiry, and profited by counsel. It was
-one of his great misfortunes that he never made
-a true and worthy friendship with any man so
-nearly his equal as to be able frankly to advise
-him against what Clarendon calls the “current,
-or rather the torrent, of his passions.” He was
-surrounded by needy brothers, and influenced by
-an ambitious, unscrupulous mother. One faithful
-friend would not only have saved him from
-many perils, but might have prompted him to
-do “as transcendant worthy actions” as any man
-in his sphere. In spite of prosperity, he was of a
-persuadable nature; he was naturally candid, just,
-and generous; no record remains of the temptation
-of money leading him to do any unkind
-action. “If,” says Lord Clarendon, “he had an
-immoderate ambition, it doth not appear that it
-was in his nature, or that he brought it to the
-Court, but rather found it there. He needed no
-ambition, who was so seated in the hearts of two
-such masters.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>No man was more vilified in his private life than
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>Buckingham. Like all persons of weak principles
-and impulsive nature, he was at once engaging
-and disappointing; warm-hearted one instant,
-selfish the next; the idol of his family, whom he
-befriended unceasingly; the object, during his
-life, of his young wife’s most devoted affection,
-which he often forgot or betrayed. Nevertheless,
-whilst his moral character was sullied by many
-blemishes, it was free from the unblushing profligacy
-of some of his predecessors, and superior
-to the hypocritical sensuality of his contemporary,
-Richelieu. Happily for the age, the almost
-blameless early career of Charles enforced that
-virtue should be respected, and that vice, where
-it existed, should remain concealed. Buckingham
-probably owed to this necessity much of what, at
-all events, may be endowed with the praise of
-decorum.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The popular error of many historians, who
-depict him as an arrogant favourite, a remorseless
-extortioner, a reckless invader of liberty,
-the minion of his own King, and the instrument
-of foreign Courts, yields before the more intimate
-view of Buckingham’s character which
-has been unfolded in the collections now laid
-open to all readers of history. That he was impetuous,
-but kind in nature--careless of forms,
-but courteous in spirit--led widely astray by mad
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>passions, yet returning in love and penitence
-to his home--is now confessed. No instances
-have been found to substantiate against him
-charges of corruption, such as that which was
-commonly practised in those days; he was
-loaded with presents of land, of money--he spent
-freely what had been thus bestowed--and the
-affection borne to him by his dependents is the
-best earnest of his many good qualities as a
-master and a patron.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In his liberality to all around him, he is said by
-Wotton, who thoroughly understood the noble
-nature which he compared to that of Essex, to
-have been “cheerfully magnificent,” whilst he conferred
-his favours with such a grace, that the
-manner was as gratifying as the gift, “and men’s
-understandings were as much puzzled as their
-wits.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>His disposition was full of tenderness and
-compassion. The man who fell by the assassin’s
-hand had a horror of capital punishment,
-“Those,” Lord Clarendon observes, “who think
-the laws dead if they are not severely executed, censured
-him for being too merciful; and he believed,
-doubtless, hanging the worst use a man could be
-put to.” Consistent with this sweetness of
-character were his affability and gentleness to
-men younger than himself, as well as his ready forgiveness
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>of injuries, an “easiness to reconcilement,”
-which caused him even too soon to forget
-the circumstances of affronts and evil deeds,
-and, therefore, exposed him to a repetition.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Of all the imputations which were fixed on
-Buckingham, that of a desire to enrich himself,
-from motives of avarice, is the most completely
-refuted by facts. During the four years that he
-enjoyed the unbounded confidence of Charles I.
-he became every day poorer. His affairs were investigated,
-and the result was proved. It is,
-indeed, a question, and a very serious one,--how
-far any man is justified in spending, even
-on noble purposes, and certainly not in mere
-show, largely beyond his income, as Buckingham
-did; but his conduct is, at all events, more
-pardonable than the mere desire to collect a
-great fortune, from sources which he seems to
-have considered should be expended either in
-doing honour to his Sovereign abroad in his
-embassies--a notion paramount in those days,
-though out of date in ours--or by the encouragement
-of arts and sciences, and the duties of
-hospitality at home.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>When we recapitulate the errors of this celebrated
-man--his omissions, his sins, his want of
-good faith, his overlooking the benefits he might
-have conferred on his country, until it was almost
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>too late for repentance, his sacrifice of his Sovereign’s
-best interests to his own will--we must, at
-the same time, admit great extenuation. No mercy
-was shown to his faults by the historians of his time,
-nor of the age succeeding; they wrote under a sense
-of the deep injuries from which the Rebellion received
-its first impulse. We must not look for
-fairness in such a ferment. Even after the tomb
-had long been closed over his remains, it was
-scarcely safe, certainly scarcely prudent, to palliate
-the faults, or to place the virtues of Buckingham
-in a fair light. We have now, however, the satisfactory
-assurance that Buckingham was conscious
-of his faults; contrite for his misdeeds; and
-earnest in his resolution to repair them, had his
-life been spared.<a id='r245' /><a href='#f245' class='c013'><sup>[245]</sup></a></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Lord Clarendon closes his “Disparity” between
-the Earl of Essex and the Duke of Buckingham
-in these words:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“He that shall continue this argument further
-may haply begin his parallel after their deaths,
-and not unfitly. He may say that they were
-both as mighty in obligations as any subjects;
-and both their memories and families as unrecompensed
-by such as they had raised. He may tell
-you of the clients that buried the pictures of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>the one, and defaced the arms of the other, lest
-they might be too long suspected for their dependants,
-and find disadvantage by being honest
-to their memories. He may tell you of some that
-drew strangers to their houses, lest they might
-find the track of their own footsteps, that might
-upbraid them with their former attendance. He
-may say that both their memories shall have a
-reverend fervour with all posterity, and all
-nations. He may tell you many more particulars,
-which I dare not do.”</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span><span class='xlarge'>APPENDIX.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>APPENDIX.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c022'>In the Calendar edited by Mr. Bruce (1859),
-there are the following details, amongst other
-curious particulars, of the state of affairs after the
-Duke of Buckingham’s unfortunate expedition
-to Rhé:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Lionel Sharp to Buckingham, reports his
-sermon preached (at St Margaret’s, Westminster),
-in which he had alluded to the censure
-thrown upon the Duke for his late failure at Rhé,
-and had declared that he who had ventured all
-that was dearest in the world for a foreign church,
-would, if he ‘had as many lives as hairs,’ venture
-them all for his own, with other laudatory personal
-allusions to the Duke. Is ready to ‘do the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>rest’ within two days, ‘if he may have the place
-in Westminster, or on Sunday next.’"--<cite>Vol. cii.,
-Domestic, No. 76, April, 1628.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This is a singular letter, not only as showing
-the alarm which led the Duke to have recourse
-to the Elizabeth plan of “tuning the pulpits,” but
-also as an instance of the almost impious mixture
-of political and worldly affairs with sacred subjects.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div><span class='sc'>Second attempt on La Rochelle.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><i>Sir Henry Palmer to Secretary Nicholas, from
-on board the “Garland,” before La Rochelle,
-under the Earl of Denbigh</i>:--"In this letter Sir
-Henry states that what was here given out to
-be feasible they find directly impossible. On the
-approach of the English Fleet, the French retreated
-under their ordnance. The palisadoes
-across the river described. The Council of War
-determined that they should put out to sea, and
-spend their victual abroad. Lord Denbigh cruising
-between Ushant and Scilly. The writer
-between Portsmouth and Cape La Hogue. No
-man but looked back upon the poor town but
-with eyes of pity, though not able to help
-them."--<cite>Vol. ciii., No. 50, May 8, 1628.</cite></p>
-
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'><cite>Letter from the Earl of Denbigh to the same.</cite>--"Men
-have ever been the censure of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>world who are unsuccessful from public employments.
-Misinformation has been the cause of
-this misfortune. They found Rochelle so blocked
-up, that in eight days’ stay they never heard from
-them. The palisado is so strengthened with two
-floats of ships, both within and without, moored
-and fastened together from their ports to half-mast
-high, that, lying in shoal water, it is impossible
-to be forced."--<cite>Vol. ciii., No. 57, dated
-May 9, at sea.</cite></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>Various letters seem to clear Lord Denbigh of
-cowardice in turning back. See letters from Rowland
-Woodward to Francis Windebank. "The
-report is, that Lord Denbigh was overruled by
-Ned Clarke, that would not hazard the Fleet.
-The King was never seen to be so much moved,
-saying, ‘if the ships had been lost, he had timber
-enough to build more.’"--<cite>Vol. civ., No. 47.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In a letter from Sir Henry Hungate to William,
-Earl of Denbigh, it is stated, "the King’s
-pleasure is that not a single man should go
-ashore."--<cite>Vol. civ., No. 69.</cite></p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div><span class='sc'>Respecting the “Remonstrance.”</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Message on Wednesday from the King, that
-he would not yield to any alteration in his answer,
-but would close the Session on the 11th
-inst. The house proceeded with the Remonstrance,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>until another message, which absolutely
-forbade them to do so. Scene which ensued:--Most
-part of the house <em>fell a-weeping</em>. Sir Robert
-Philips could not speak for weeping. Others
-blamed those that wept, and said they had swords
-to cut the throats of the King’s enemies.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"That afternoon the King and the Lords were
-in council from two to eight on the question
-whether the Parliament should be dissolved.
-The negative was resolved on. On the following
-morning the Speaker explained away his message,
-and the house proceeded with the Remonstrance.
-The King agreed thereunto, and came that afternoon,
-gave the customary royal assent, adding
-other observations which are repeated. It is
-impossible to express with what joy this was
-heard, nor what joy it causes in the city, where
-they are making bonfires at every door, such as
-was never seen but upon his Majesty’s return from
-Spain."--<cite>Letter from Sir Francis <a id='corr326.21'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Nethersote'>Nethersole</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_326.21'><ins class='correction' title='Nethersote'>Nethersole</ins></a></span> to the
-Queen of Bohemia, vol. cvi., No. 55, dated June
-5. The Strand.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Sends a copy of the Remonstrance of the
-Commons. It was presented to the King on Tuesday
-last. The Duke was present in the Banqueting-house
-at the time, and on his Majesty
-rising from his chair, kneeled down, with a purpose,
-it was conceived, to have besought his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>Majesty to say something. But the King, saying
-only ‘No,’ took him up with his hand, which
-the Duke kissed, and so his Majesty retired. This
-was all that passed at the time, and all that is
-like to come of the Remonstrance. His Majesty’s
-favour to the Duke is no way diminished, but
-the ill-will of the people is like to be much increased."--<cite>The
-same to the same, vol. cvii., No. 78,
-June 19. The Strand.</cite></p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div><span class='sc'>Death of Buckingham.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>Some further particulars of this event and its
-effects are related in a letter from Sir Francis
-Nethersole to James Earl of Carlisle.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“The King took the Duke’s death very heavily,
-keeping his chamber that day, as is well to be
-believed. But the base multitude in the town
-drink healths to Felton, and these are infinitely
-more cheerful than sad faces of better degrees.”</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div><span class='sc'>Felton.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>Examination of Richard Harward</em>:--"George
-Willoughby taught him to write. Saw Felton
-at Willoughby’s within a month; Felton complained
-of the Duke as a cause why he lost a
-captain’s place, and the obstacle why he could
-not get his pay, being four score and odd pounds.
-Went together to the Windmill, where examinant
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>read the Remonstrance to him, and Felton took
-it and carried it away."--<cite>Vol. cxiv., No. 128.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Sir Robert Savage committed to the Tower
-for saying that if Felton had not killed the Duke
-he would have done it."--<cite>Vol. cxvi., No. 95, Sept.
-10, 1628.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Report by Dr. Brian Duppa of an interview
-held by himself and others with John Felton in
-the Tower. (Dr. Duppa was afterwards tutor
-to Charles II.):--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"On stating to him that though he had no
-mercy on the Duke, the King had so much compassion
-on his soul as to give directions to send
-divines to draw him to a feeling of the horror of
-his sin, he fell on his knees with humble acknowledgment
-of so great grace to him. Throughout
-he confessed his offence to be a fearful and
-crying sin; attributed it, “upon his soul, to
-nothing but the Remonstrance.” Being asked
-whether some dangerous propositions, found in his
-handwriting, had not stimulated him, he denied,
-saying they were gathered long ago out a book
-called the “Soldier’s Epistles.” He denied that
-any creature knew of his resolution but himself, and
-requested that he might do some public penance
-before his death, in sackcloth, with ashes on his
-head, and ropes about his neck."--<cite>Vol. cxvi., No.
-101, Sept. 2, 1628.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>Felton, it appears, had two letters found in his
-bag, perhaps duplicates. The knife was sewed
-into his dress. It appears that Felton was, at
-one time, puffed up by the popular applause.
-The state of rabid enmity to the Duke existing
-in the country, was exhibited in inhuman verses
-on his death, such as these:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Make haste, I pray thee; launch out your ships with speed;</div>
- <div class='line'>Our noble Duke had never greater need</div>
- <div class='line'>Of sudden succour, and these vessels must</div>
- <div class='line'>Be his main help, for there’s his only trust.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>Satire upon the Duke, beginning--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“And art thou dead, who whilom thought’st thy state</div>
- <div class='line'>To be exempted from the power of Fate?</div>
- <div class='line'>Thou that but yesterday, illustrious, bright,</div>
- <div class='line'>And like the sun, did’st with thy pregnant light</div>
- <div class='line'>Illuminate other orbs?”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>One of the poems of the day excited more
-than ordinary attention. It was addressed by
-the writer to “his confined friend, Mr. John
-Felton!” Suspicion fell on Ben Jonson; and
-even in the house of his friend, Sir Robert Cotton,
-the belief that he had written the poem found
-credence. Jonson was then paralytic, and his
-mind may have been somewhat embittered, perhaps
-enfeebled, but he was guiltless of this act of
-ingratitude to his deceased patron, and to his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>living sovereign, King Charles. His examination
-upon this charge is, as Mr. Bruce remarks
-in his preface, p. 8, ix., a new incident in
-Jonson’s life. The original examination before
-the Attorney-General is to be found in the
-Calendar before referred to, vol. cxix., No. 33.
-See Preface by Mr. Bruce, p. 9.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"The examination of Benjamin Jonson, of
-Westminster, gentleman, taken this 26th day of
-October, 1628, by me, Sir Robert Heath, his
-Majesty’s Attorney-General:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"The said examinant being asked whether
-he had ever seen certain verses beginning thus--‘Enjoy
-thy bondage,‘ and ending thus--‘England’s
-ransom here doth lie,’ and entitled thus--‘To
-his confined friend,’ &amp;c., and the papers of
-these verses being showed unto him, he answereth
-that he hath seen the like verses to
-these. And being asked where he saw them, he
-saith, at Sir Robert Cotton’s house, as he often
-doth, the papers of these verses lying there
-upon the table after dinner. This examinant was
-asked concerning these verses as if himself had
-been the author thereof; thereupon this examinant
-read them, and condemned them, and with
-deep protestations affirmed that they were not
-made by him, nor did he know who made them,
-or had ever seen or heard them before. And the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>like protestations he now maketh upon his Christianity
-and hope of salvation. He saith he took
-no copy of them, nor ever had copy of them.
-He saith he hath heard of them since, but ever
-with detestation. He being further asked whether
-he doth know who made or hath heard who
-made them, he answereth he doth not know,
-but he hath heard by common fame that one Mr.
-Townley should make them, but he confesseth
-truly that he cannot name any one singular person
-who hath reported it. Being asked of what
-quality that Mr. Townley is, he saith his name is
-Zouch Townley; he is a scholar, and a divine
-by profession, and a preacher, but where he
-liveth or abideth he knoweth not, but he is a
-student of Christ Church in Oxford.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Being further asked whether he gave a
-dagger to the said Mr. Townley, and upon what
-occasion, and when, he answereth, that on a
-Sunday after this examinant had heard the
-said Mr. Townley preach at St. Margaret’s Church
-in Westminster, Mr. Townley, taking a liking to
-a dagger with a white haft which this examinant
-ordinarily wore at his girdle, and was given to
-this examinant, this examinant gave it to him
-two nights after, being invited by Mr. Townley
-to supper, but without any circumstance and
-without any relation to those or any other verses;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>for this examinant is well assured this was so
-done before he saw those verses, or had heard of
-them; and this examinant doth not remember
-that since he hath seen Mr. Townley.</p>
-
-<div class='c014'>”<span class='sc'>Ben Jonson.</span>"</div>
-<p class='c025'>Zouch Townley, to whom the verses were
-ascribed, was one of the Townleys of Cheshire.
-He escaped a prosecution, with which he was
-threatened in the Star-chamber, by taking refuge
-at the Hague. He was evidently on terms of intimacy
-with Jonson, to whom he addressed commendatory
-verses, beginning--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in30'>“Ben,</div>
- <div class='line'>The world is much in debt, and though it may</div>
- <div class='line'>Some petty reckonings to small poets pay,</div>
- <div class='line'>Pardon if at thy glorious sum they stick,</div>
- <div class='line'>Being too large for their arithmetic.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>It is agreeable to find that Ben Jonson stands
-wholly acquitted of the charge of being the writer
-of the offensive and discreditable verses in question.</p>
-
-<hr class='c011' />
-
-<p class='c019'>The following letter from Edmund Windham
-to Dr. Plot, author of the history of Staffordshire,
-relative to the ghost story related by Clarendon,
-is taken from the “Biographia Britannica”:--</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span></div>
-<div class='letter'>
-
-<p class='c019'>"<span class='sc'>Sir</span>--According to your desire and my promise,
-I have written downe what I remember
-(divers things being slipt out of my memory) of
-the relation made me by Mr. Nicholas Towse, concerning
-the apparition which visited him about
-1627.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"I and my wife, upon occasion being in London,
-lay at my brother’s, Pym’s, house, without
-Bishopsgate, which was next house unto Mr.
-Nicholas Towse’s, who was his kinsman and familiar
-acquaintance--in consideration of whose
-society and friendship he took a house in that
-place; the said Towse being a very fine musician
-and very good company--for aught I ever saw or
-heard, a virtuous, religious, and well-disposed
-gentleman. About that time, the said Mr Towse
-told me that, one night being in bed and perfectly
-waking, and a candle burning by him (as he
-usually had), there came into his chamber, and
-stood by his bed-side, an old gentleman, in such
-a habit as was in use in Queen Elizabeth’s time;
-at whose first appearance Mr. Towse was very much
-troubled; but after a little while, recollecting himself,
-he demanded of him in the name of God, <em>What
-he was?--whether he were a man?</em> And the Apparition
-replied, <em>Noe</em>. Then he asked him <em>if he were a
-devil</em>? And the Apparition answered, <em>Noe</em>. Then
-said Mr. Towse, <em>In the name of God, what art thou
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>then</em>? And, as I remember, Mr. Towse told me
-that the Apparition answered him that <em>he was the
-ghost of Sir George Villiers, father to the then Duke
-of Buckingham, whom he might very well remember,
-since he went to schole at such a place in Leicestershire</em>--naming
-the place, which I have forgotten.
-And Mr. Towse told me that the Apparition had
-perfectly the resemblance of the said Sir George
-Villiers in all respects, and in the same habit that
-he had often seen him wear in his lifetime. The
-said Apparition also told him that he could not
-but remember the much kindness that he, the
-said Sir George Villiers, had expressed to him
-whilst he was a scholar in Leicestershire, as
-aforesaid; and that, out of that consideration, he
-believed that he loved him, and that therefore he
-made choice of him, the said Mr. Towse, to
-deliver a message to his son, the Duke of Buckingham,
-thereby to prevent such mischief as
-would otherwise befall the said Duke, whereby he
-would be inevitably ruined. And then, as I
-remember Mr. Towse told me, that the Apparition
-instructed him what message he should
-deliver to the Duke; unto which Mr. Towse replied
-that he should be very unwilling to go to the
-Duke of Bucks upon such an errand, whereby he
-should gaine nothing but reproach and contempt,
-and be esteemed a madman, and therefore
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>desired to be excused from the employment. But
-the Apparition prest him with much earnestness
-to undertake it, telling him that the circumstances
-and secret discoveries (which he should be able
-to make to the Duke of such passages in the
-course of his life which were known to none
-but himselfe) would make it appeare that his
-message was not the fancy of a distempered
-braine, but a reality. And so the Apparition
-tooke his leave of him for that night, telling him
-that he would give him leave to consider until
-the next night, and then he would come to
-receive his answer, whether he would undertake
-his message to the Duke of Buckingham or noe.
-Mr. Towse passed the next day with much
-trouble and perplexity, debateing and reasoning
-with himselfe whether he should deliver this
-message to the Duke of Buckingham or not; but
-in the conclusion he resolved to doe it. And the
-next night, when the Apparition came, he gave
-his answer accordingly, and then received full
-instructions.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"After which Mr. Towse went and found out
-Sir Thomas Bludder and Sir Ralph Freeman, by
-whom he was brought to the Duke of Buckingham,
-and had several private and long audiences
-of him. I myselfe, by the favour of a friend,
-was once admitted to see him in private conference
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>with the Duke, where (although I heard
-not their discourse) I observed much earnestness
-in their actions and gestures. After which conference
-Mr. Towse told me that the Duke would
-not follow the advice that was given him, which
-was (as I remember) that he intimated the
-casting off and rejection of some men who had
-great interest in him--and, as I take it, he named
-Bishop Laud; and that he, the Duke, was to do
-some popular acts in the ensueing parliament, of
-which the Duke would have had Mr. Towse to
-have been a Burgess, but he refused it, alledging
-that, unless the Duke had followed his directions,
-he must doe him hurt if he were of the parliament.
-Mr. Towse also then told me that the
-Duke confessed that he had told him those things
-that no creature knew but himselfe, and that none
-but God or the Divell could reveale to him. The
-Duke offered Mr. Towse to have the King
-knighte him, and to have given him preferment
-(as he told me), but that he refused it, saying
-that, unless he would follow his advice, he should
-receive nothing from him. Mr. Towse, when he
-made this relation, told me the Duke would inevitably
-be destroyed before such a time (which
-he then named), and accordingly the Duke’s death
-happened before that time. He likewise told me
-that he had written downe all the discourses he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>had had with the Apparition; and that <em>at last his
-comeing to him was so familiar, that he was as little
-troubled with it as if it had been a friend or acquaintance
-that had come to visit him</em>. Mr. Towse
-told me further, that the Archbishop (then
-Bishop of London) Dr. Laud, should, by his
-counsels, be the author of a very great trouble to
-the kingdome, by which it should be reduced to
-that extremity of disorder and confusion that it
-should seem to be past all hope of recovery without
-a miracle; but yet, when all people were in
-despaire of happy days againe, the kingdome
-should suddenly be reduced and resettled again
-in a most happy condition.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"At this time my father Pym was in trouble,
-and committed to the Gatehouse by the Lords of
-the Councill, about a quarrel between him and
-the Lord Pawlett, upon which one night I sayd
-unto my cousin Towse, by way of jest, <em>I pray you
-ask your Apparition what shall become of my father
-Pym’s business</em>?--which he promised to doe; and
-the next day told me that my father Pym’s enemies
-were ashamed of their malicious prosecution,
-and that he would be at liberty within a
-weeke, or some few days, which happened accordingly.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Mr. Towse’s wife (since his death) told me
-that her husband and she, living in Windsor
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>Castle, where he had an office, that summer the
-Duke of Buckingham was killed, told her the very
-day that the Duke was set upon by the mutinous
-mariners in Portsmouth, saying the ...
-would be his death, which accordingly fell out--and
-that at the very instant the Duke was
-killed (as upon strict enquiry they found afterwards)
-Mr. Towse, sitting amongst some company,
-suddenly started up and said, <em>The Duke of Buckingham
-is slain</em>. Mr. Towse lived not long after;
-which is as much as I can remember of this
-Apparition, which, according to your desire, is
-written by,</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Sir, yours, &amp;c.,</div>
- <div class='line in7'>“<span class='sc'>Edmund Windham</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='small'>“Boulogne, Aug. 5, 1652.”</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='c011' />
-
-<p class='c019'>The following letter has been adduced as a
-proof that Villiers owed his favour with Charles
-to an incident in the Monarch’s early life--his
-sole dereliction from propriety, as it is said.
-Buckingham, it is said, was Charles’s confidant,
-and mediator between him and King James:--</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>"Steenie, I have nothing now to wryte to you,
-but to give you thankes bothe for the good counsell
-ye gave me, and for the event of it. The King
-gave mee a good sharpe potion, but you took
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>away the working of it by the well-relished
-comfites ye sent after. I have met with the
-partie that must not be named, once alreddie, and
-the cullor of wryting this letter shall make mee
-meete with her on Saturday, although it is
-written the day being Thursday. So assuring
-you that this business goes safelie on, I rest</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Your constant loving friend,</div>
- <div class='line in22'>“<span class='sc'>Charles</span>."<a id='r246' /><a href='#f246' class='c013'><sup>[246]</sup></a></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>“I hope ye will not shew the King this letter,
-but put it in the safe custodie of Mister Vulcan.”</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div>THE END.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c031'>
- <div>R. BORN, PRINTER, GLOUCESTER STREET, REGENT’S PARK.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='large'>Footnotes</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='footnote' id='f1'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. Brodie, vol. ii., p. 117.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f2'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Masters, 137.--Nichols’ “Leicestershire,” iii., p. 200.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f3'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. Brodie, from Rushworth.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f4'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. Hume.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f5'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 212.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f6'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f7'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. He was the son of Lawrence Hyde, of Gussage St.
-Michael, in the county of Dorset, and of a west country
-branch of the ancient family of "Hyde of that Ilk."--<em>See
-Lord Campbell.</em></p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f8'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. Lives of the Chief Justices, vol. iv., p. 381.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f9'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. Heylyn, 149.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f10'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. Lord Campbell, vol. vi., 322, <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>passim</em></span>.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f11'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. Brodie, after Clarendon.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f12'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r12'>12</a>. Brodie, vol. ii., note, from Ayscough’s MSS. Brit. Mus.,
-4161, vol. ii.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f13'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r13'>13</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f14'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r14'>14</a>. Brodie, from Hacket’s Life of Williams, part ii.,
-p. 96.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f15'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r15'>15</a>. Brodie, from Rushworth, vol. i., p. 424.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f16'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r16'>16</a>. Letter from Admiral Pennington to Buckingham, State
-Paper Office, inedited.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f17'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r17'>17</a>. Letter from Admiral Pennington to Buckingham.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f18'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r18'>18</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f19'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r19'>19</a>. A request which was quickly complied with, as we find
-in the State Paper Office: “Orders given to impress men
-for the fleet,” addressed to Admiral Pennington.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f20'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r20'>20</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f21'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r21'>21</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f22'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r22'>22</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f23'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r23'>23</a>. Chamberlayne’s State of Great Britain in the seventeenth
-century.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f24'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r24'>24</a>. State Papers, edited, 1626.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f25'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r25'>25</a>. State Papers, edited, 1626.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f26'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r26'>26</a>. Brodie (vol. ii., p. 147) says that only ten sail of the
-hundred ships that formed Buckingham’s fleet were the
-king’s ships; but it seems from these letters that the number
-was much greater.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f27'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r27'>27</a>. State Papers, vol. lxvi., No. 19.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f28'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r28'>28</a>. Ibid., Domestic, vol. lxviii., No. 3; see also Preface to
-Calendar, by Mr. Bruce, p. 11.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f29'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r29'>29</a>. Own.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f30'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r30'>30</a>. Action.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f31'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r31'>31</a>. Sir Sackville Crowe, who had been keeper of the Duke’s
-privy purse, and was now treasurer of the Navy.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f32'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r32'>32</a>. The spelling of this original letter is preserved here:
-the punctuation alone is altered.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f33'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r33'>33</a>. State Papers, vol. lxv., No. 3.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f34'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r34'>34</a>. Main business.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f35'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r35'>35</a>. Vol. xvii. No. 28.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f36'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r36'>36</a>. For the Duke’s creditors.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f37'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r37'>37</a>. State Papers, 2, vol. lxvii., date uncertain, No. 60.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f38'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r38'>38</a>. No. 96, Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f39'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r39'>39</a>. S. P., vol. lxvi., No. 14.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f40'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r40'>40</a>. State Papers, vol. lxvi., No. 33.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f41'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r41'>41</a>. Ibid., No. 35 and 67.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f42'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r42'>42</a>. State Papers, No. 71.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f43'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r43'>43</a>. Ibid., No. 76.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f44'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r44'>44</a>. Vol. 68, No. 18.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f45'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r45'>45</a>. Ibid., 105.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f46'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r46'>46</a>. State Papers, vol. lxviii., No. 25.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f47'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r47'>47</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxi., No. 43.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f48'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r48'>48</a>. Ibid., No. 36.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f49'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r49'>49</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxii., No 18.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f50'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r50'>50</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f51'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r51'>51</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxii., No. 28.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f52'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r52'>52</a>. Ibid., No. 29.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f53'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r53'>53</a>. This letter is dated July 28, which contradicts Hume’s
-assertion that the Duke had given the Governor five days
-respite.--See Hume, Life of Charles I., 1627.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f54'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r54'>54</a>. Brodie, vol. ii., p. 151.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f55'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r55'>55</a>. State Papers, lxxii., No. 87 and 90.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f56'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r56'>56</a>. Letter from Sir Allen Apsley to Secretary Nicholas.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f57'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r57'>57</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxv., No. 20.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f58'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r58'>58</a>. King James.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f59'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r59'>59</a>. Vol. lxxv., No. 22, State Paper Office, Conway Papers.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f60'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r60'>60</a>. Vol. lxvii., No. 60, Conway Papers.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f61'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r61'>61</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxv., No. 53 and 57.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f62'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r62'>62</a>. State Papers, 26.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f63'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r63'>63</a>. Ibid., 34.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f64'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r64'>64</a>. Ibid., lviiii., 65.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f65'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r65'>65</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxviii., No. 71.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f66'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r66'>66</a>. Edward Conway was the eldest son of the first Baron
-Conway of Rugby, in the County of Warwick, and succeeded
-his father, an eminent and popular Minister under
-James I. and Charles I.--<cite>Burke’s Extinct Peerage.</cite></p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f67'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r67'>67</a>. Probably Lady Hatton.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f68'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r68'>68</a>. The Governor of La Rochelle, whom the Duchess seems
-to have mistrusted.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f69'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r69'>69</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxv., No. 7.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f70'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r70'>70</a>. Viscount Wilmot of Athlone, here referred to, was the
-grandfather of John Wilmot, the dissolute, yet penitent,
-Earl of Rochester, whose death has been described by
-Bishop Burnet.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f71'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r71'>71</a>. Letter from Viscount Wilmot to Secretary Conway,
-State Papers, vol. lxxx. No. 55.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f72'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r72'>72</a>. State Papers, lxxxii., vol. 18.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f73'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r73'>73</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxii. 39.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f74'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r74'>74</a>. Vol. lxxxiii, No. 3.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f75'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r75'>75</a>. Letter from Lord Wilmot to Secretary Conway, State
-Papers, No. 45.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f76'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r76'>76</a>. State Papers, No. 3 and 8.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f77'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r77'>77</a>. State Papers,--Letter of Secretary Conway to the Earl
-of Holland, vol. lxxxiii., No. 12.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f78'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r78'>78</a>. Ibid., No. 17.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f79'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r79'>79</a>. Ibid., No. 27.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f80'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r80'>80</a>. State Papers. The letter is dated Nov. 1, 1627. Vol.
-lxxxiv., No. 1.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f81'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r81'>81</a>. State Papers, Ibid., Nov. 16. Dated London, Nov. 3.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f82'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r82'>82</a>. He was afterwards successively Baron Goring and
-Earl of Norwich; his son, General Goring, whose character
-is so ably drawn by Clarendon, pre-deceased his father
-by two years; both titles became extinct in 1672.--<cite>Burke’s
-Extinct Peerage.</cite></p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f83'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r83'>83</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxiv., No. 20.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f84'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r84'>84</a>. Nov. 6.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f85'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r85'>85</a>. Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 227.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f86'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r86'>86</a>. Letter of Denzil Holles to Sir Thomas Wentworth.
-Strafford Letters, vol. i., p. 42.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f87'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r87'>87</a>. News Letter, State Papers, Ibid., No. 24.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f88'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r88'>88</a>. Strafford Letters.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f89'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r89'>89</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxv., No. 56 and 57.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f90'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r90'>90</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxv., No. 67.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f91'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r91'>91</a>. Ibid., No. 74.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f92'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r92'>92</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxvi., No. 80.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f93'>
-<p class='c001'><a href='#r93'>93</a>. State Papers, vol. lxxxvi., No. 93.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f94'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r94'>94</a>. State Papers, vol. lxvii., No. 96--Conway Papers.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f95'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r95'>95</a>. Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, p. 230.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f96'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r96'>96</a>. Clarendon, vol. i. p. 40-1.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f97'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r97'>97</a>. State Papers, vol lxxxv., No. 10 and 11.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f98'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r98'>98</a>. State Papers, vol. xc., No. 5.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f99'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r99'>99</a>. State Papers, vol. xc., No. 10.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f100'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r100'>100</a>. This event took place on or before the 2nd of February,
-1628 (when Sir John Hippisley wished “the Duke joy of
-his young son”), and not on the 30th of January, as is
-usually stated.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f101'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r101'>101</a>. See State Papers, vol. xcii., No 88. The county of
-Anglesea was to be charged 111<em>l.</em>; the money, as the King’s
-letter intimated, was to be paid before the 1st of March.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f102'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r102'>102</a>. State Papers, xciv., No. 57.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f103'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r103'>103</a>. Ibid., 108.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f104'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r104'>104</a>. State Papers, vol. lxii., No. 7. Dated May 7, 1627.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f105'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r105'>105</a>. At the end of the session, Charles not only pardoned
-Mainwaring, but gave him a valuable living.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f106'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r106'>106</a>. Brodie, p. 202. Hume’s “Charles I.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f107'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r107'>107</a>. Brodie, p. 170.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f108'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r108'>108</a>. State Papers, Domestic, 1625.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f109'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r109'>109</a>. Parallel between Essex and Buckingham--“Reliquiæ
-Wottonianæ.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f110'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r110'>110</a>. Wottonianæ Reliquiæ, p. 233.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f111'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r111'>111</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f112'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r112'>112</a>. Brodie.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f113'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r113'>113</a>. Calendar, vol. xciv., No. 96.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f114'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r114'>114</a>. Brodie--Hume.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f115'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r115'>115</a>. Student.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f116'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r116'>116</a>. Balfour’s Annals, MSS., Advocate’s Library, quoted
-from Brodie, vol. ii., p. 209.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f117'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r117'>117</a>. The letter from Edmund Wyndham, of Kattisford,
-county Somerset, was addressed to Dr. Robert Plot, who
-wished to have the story correctly stated, in order to correct
-the false representations of William Lilly.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f118'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r118'>118</a>. “Biographia Britannica,” Art. “Villiers,” <em>Note</em>.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f119'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r119'>119</a>. See Appendix A.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f120'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r120'>120</a>. The original letter was in possession of the late Mr.
-Upcott, by whom the author of this Memoir was presented
-with a fac-simile. It is, however, given in all the histories
-of this period.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f121'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r121'>121</a>. Sir Philip Warwick’s Memoirs, p. 35.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f122'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r122'>122</a>. See Brodie--Wotton--Hume.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f123'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r123'>123</a>. Reliq. Wotton., p. 234.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f124'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r124'>124</a>. It shows in what manner the Duchess was informed of
-her husband’s death.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f125'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r125'>125</a>. Letters.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f126'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r126'>126</a>. Lady Anglesea, the sister-in-law
-of Buckingham’s
-mother, being the wife of his brother, Christopher, Earl
-of Anglesea.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f127'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r127'>127</a>. There is an hiatus here in the MS.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f128'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r128'>128</a>. Domestic State Papers, August 27, 1628. No. 21.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f129'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r129'>129</a>. Clarendon.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f130'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r130'>130</a>. Expresses.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f131'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r131'>131</a>. Majesty’s.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f132'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r132'>132</a>. Domestic State Papers, Aug. 1628, No. 26.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f133'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r133'>133</a>. Biog. Brit.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f134'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r134'>134</a>. Domestic State Papers, August, 1628, No. 31.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f135'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r135'>135</a>. Brodie.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f136'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r136'>136</a>. </p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div>EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“The Lady Mary Villiers lies</div>
- <div class='line'>Under this stone: with weeping eyes</div>
- <div class='line'>The parents that first gave her breath</div>
- <div class='line'>And their sad friends laid her in earth.</div>
- <div class='line'>If any of them, reader, were</div>
- <div class='line'>Known unto thee, shed a tear;</div>
- <div class='line'>Or if thyself possess a gem,</div>
- <div class='line'>As dear to thee as this to them,</div>
- <div class='line'>Though a stranger to this place,</div>
- <div class='line'>Bewail in theirs thine own hard case:</div>
- <div class='line'>For thou perhaps at thy return</div>
- <div class='line'>May’st find thy darling in an urn.”</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in13'>ANOTHER.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“The purest soul that e’er was sent</div>
- <div class='line'>Into a clayey tenement</div>
- <div class='line'>Informed this dust; but the weak mould</div>
- <div class='line'>Could the great guest no longer hold:</div>
- <div class='line'>The substance was too pure--the flame</div>
- <div class='line'>Too glorious that thither came:</div>
- <div class='line'>Ten thousand Cupids brought along</div>
- <div class='line'>A grace on each wing that did throng</div>
- <div class='line'>For place there--till they all opprest</div>
- <div class='line'>The seat on which they sought to rest.</div>
- <div class='line'>So the fair model broke for want</div>
- <div class='line'>Of room to lodge th’ inhabitant.</div>
- <div class='line'>When in the brazen leaves of Fame</div>
- <div class='line'>The life, the death of Buckingham</div>
- <div class='line'>Shall be recorded, if truth’s hand</div>
- <div class='line'>Incise the story o’er our land,</div>
- <div class='line'>Posterity shall see a fair</div>
- <div class='line'>Structure by the studious care</div>
- <div class='line'>Of two kings raised, that no less</div>
- <div class='line'>Their wisdom than their power express;</div>
- <div class='line'>By blinded zeal (whose doubtful light</div>
- <div class='line'>Made murder’s scarlet robe seem white--</div>
- <div class='line'>Whose vain deluding phantoms charmed</div>
- <div class='line'>A clouded sullen soul, and arm’d</div>
- <div class='line'>A desperate hand, thirsty of blood)</div>
- <div class='line'>Torn from the fair earth where it stood!</div>
- <div class='line'>So the majestic fabric fell.</div>
- <div class='line'>His actions let our annals tell;</div>
- <div class='line'>We write no chronicle; this pile</div>
- <div class='line'>Wears only sorrow’s face and style;</div>
- <div class='line'>Which e’en the envy that did wait</div>
- <div class='line'>Upon his flourishing estate,</div>
- <div class='line'>Turned to soft pity of his death,</div>
- <div class='line'>Now pays his hearse; but that cheap breath</div>
- <div class='line'>Shall not blow here, nor th’ impure brine</div>
- <div class='line'>Puddle the streams that bathe this shrine.</div>
- <div class='line'>These are the pious obsequies</div>
- <div class='line'>Dropped from his chaste wife’s pregnant eyes,</div>
- <div class='line'>In frequent showers, and were alone</div>
- <div class='line'>By her congealing sighs made stone,</div>
- <div class='line'>On which the carver did bestow</div>
- <div class='line'>These forms and characters of woe:</div>
- <div class='line'>So he the fashion only lent,</div>
- <div class='line'>Whilst she wept all this monument.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f137'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r137'>137</a>.
-"My Lord,--I was in hope, till very lately, that all
-your displeasure taken against my lord had been past; but,
-in letters sent me out of England, I was assuredly informed
-your lordship was much disgusted still with him, which
-news hath very much troubled me. I cannot be satisfied
-without sending these expressly to you. And I beseech
-you that, whatever you do conceive, you will deal clearly
-with me, and let me know it, and withal direct me
-how I may remove it. I must necessarily be included
-in your lordship’s anger to him, for any misfortune
-to my lord must be mine, and it will prove a great misfortune
-to me to live under your frowns. Out of your
-goodness you will not, I hope, make me a sufferer, who
-have never deserved from you but as</p>
-<div class='lg-container-r c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Your Lordship’s</div>
- <div class='line in7'>“<span class='sc'>Katharine Buckingham</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>“Dunbere, this 2nd of September, 1639.”<a id='r138' /><a href='#f138' class='c013'><sup>[138]</sup></a></p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f138'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r138'>138</a>. Strafford Letters, vol. ii., p. 386.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f139'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r139'>139</a>. Burke’s Extinct Peerage.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f140'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r140'>140</a>. "In the Earl of Cork’s chapel at Youghal, where he
-was buried, there still remains the following hexastich to his
-memory:--</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Munster may curse the time that Villiers came</div>
- <div class='line'>To make us worse, by leaving such a name</div>
- <div class='line'>Of noble parts as none can imitate,</div>
- <div class='line'>But those whose hearts are married to the State;</div>
- <div class='line'>But if they press to imitate his fame,</div>
- <div class='line'>Munster may bless the time that Villiers came.”</div>
- <div class='line in11'><cite>Biographia Britannica</cite>, vol. vi.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f141'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r141'>141</a>. Burke’s Extinct Peerage.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f142'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r142'>142</a>. Dr. Waagen--Life of Velasquez, p. 48.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f143'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r143'>143</a>. From the name of his country-seat.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f144'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r144'>144</a>. The infant Cardinal, the conqueror of Nordlingen, died
-in 1641.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f145'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r145'>145</a>. Waagen, p. 62. From "Voyage en Espagne"--Cologne,
-1662.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f146'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r146'>146</a>. Waagen; Life of Velasquez, p. 82.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f147'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r147'>147</a>. State Papers: Calendar, by Mr. Bruce.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f148'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r148'>148</a>. Waagen.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f149'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r149'>149</a>. Perichief.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f150'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r150'>150</a>. Walpole, p. 183, vol. v.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f151'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r151'>151</a>. Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f152'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r152'>152</a>. Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painters; Art. “Charles I.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f153'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r153'>153</a>. In the work styled “Art and Artists,” by Dr. Waagen,
-there is a full and most interesting account of all Charles’s
-collection.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f154'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r154'>154</a>. Note in Walpole, p. 189, vol. iii.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f155'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r155'>155</a>. Walpole, p. 192.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f156'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r156'>156</a>. Dr. Waagen says they were sequestrated; but it appears
-only a portion of them were sold by the Parliament--the
-rest fell into the hands of the second Duke of Buckingham.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f157'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r157'>157</a>. Biographia, Art. “George Villiers,” the second note.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f158'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r158'>158</a>. See Biographia Britannica.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f159'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r159'>159</a>. Walpole.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f160'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r160'>160</a>. Dr. Waagen says that some of the Duke’s pictures were
-not genuine, and many of little worth; but this is not the
-opinion of Horace Walpole.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f161'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r161'>161</a>. Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iii., p. 297--from
-the Journals of the House of Commons.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f162'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r162'>162</a>. Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painting, vol. iii., p. 200.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f163'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r163'>163</a>. Ibid., p. 204.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f164'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r164'>164</a>. Dr. Waagen.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f165'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r165'>165</a>. Dr. Waagen.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f166'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r166'>166</a>. Walpole, p. 188.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f167'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r167'>167</a>. Walpole, p. 203.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f168'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r168'>168</a>. Walpole, p. 270.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f169'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r169'>169</a>. Walpole, p. 151, 152.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f170'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r170'>170</a>. Walpole, p. 206. Note. From Peacham’s “Complete
-Gentleman.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f171'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r171'>171</a>. The fate of the Arundelian marbles is stated by Walpole
-to have been as follows:--They came into the elder branch of
-the family, the Dukes of Norfolk, and were sold by the
-Duchess, who was divorced in the time of George II., to the
-Earl of Pomfret for 300<em>l.</em> The Countess of Pomfret, great-grandmother
-to the present Earl, gave them to the University</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f172'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r172'>172</a>. Walpole.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f173'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r173'>173</a>. Biograph. Brit., Art. “Villiers.” Note.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f174'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r174'>174</a>. Walpole, p. 149, <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>passim</em></span>.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f175'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r175'>175</a>. Walpole, p. 166.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f176'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r176'>176</a>. There were five dials at Whitehall; a Mr. Gunter drew
-the lines, and wrote a pamphlet on the use of them, in
-1624. “One, too,” says Horace Walpole, “may still be
-extant.” Vertue saw them at Buckingham House, from
-whence they were sold.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f177'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r177'>177</a>. Note in Hartley Coleridge’s Introduction to Massinger’s
-Plays, p. 32.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f178'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r178'>178</a>. Hartley Coleridge, p. 9.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f179'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r179'>179</a>. Massinger’s Works, edited by Hartley Coleridge, p. 74.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f180'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r180'>180</a>. Joanna, Lady Abergavenny, Mary Arundel, Catherine
-Grey, Mary Duchess of Norfolk. See “Royal and Noble
-Authors.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f181'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r181'>181</a>. Horace Walpole’s “Royal and Noble Authors,” vol. ii.,
-p. 308.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f182'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r182'>182</a>. No. 7.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f183'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r183'>183</a>. Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f184'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r184'>184</a>. Note in Parke’s edition of “Royal and Noble Authors.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f185'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r185'>185</a>. Hartley Coleridge.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f186'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r186'>186</a>. This letter was discovered by Malone, in Dulwich
-College. There is no date on it, but Mr. Payne Collier
-dates it in 1614, eight years before the publication of the
-“Virgin Martyr.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f187'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r187'>187</a>. Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxiii.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f188'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r188'>188</a>. Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxv.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f189'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r189'>189</a>. Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xiv; from Dr.
-Farmer’s “Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f190'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r190'>190</a>. Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxvii.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f191'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r191'>191</a>. Massinger’s Works, p. 167; in his Dedication of “The
-Great Duke of Florence” to Sir Robert Wiseman.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f192'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r192'>192</a>. Hartley Coleridge’s “Introduction,” p. xxv.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f193'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r193'>193</a>. The play was acted, but not printed, and has never
-been discovered.--See Coleridge, from Malone.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f194'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r194'>194</a>. Cunningham’s “London.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f195'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r195'>195</a>. See “Maid’s Tragedy.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f196'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r196'>196</a>. “The Guardian.” See Massinger’s Works, p. 351.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f197'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r197'>197</a>. From the State Papers, a new volume of which has
-lately been published, it appears that Jonson was accused of
-writing certain lines on Buckingham’s assassination.--See
-Appendix.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f198'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r198'>198</a>. Gifford’s “Life of Ben Jonson,” p. 2; from Anthony
-Wood.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f199'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r199'>199</a>. Cunningham’s London.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f200'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r200'>200</a>. Ben Johnson’s Works, p. i.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f201'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r201'>201</a>. Gifford, from the Duchess of Newcastle’s Letters.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f202'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r202'>202</a>. From the First Part of “Jeronymo,” a popular play.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f203'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r203'>203</a>. Massinger’s Works, p. 200.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f204'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r204'>204</a>. Gifford, p. 7, note.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f205'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r205'>205</a>. Rowe’s “Life of Shakspeare,” p. xxxiii.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f206'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r206'>206</a>. Gifford, p. 2.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f207'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r207'>207</a>. Pope’s “Essay on Shakespere,” prefixed to the Oxford
-edition, p. xix., 1745.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f208'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r208'>208</a>. Introduction to Massinger’s Works, p. xxxiv.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f209'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r209'>209</a>. Page xxxvi.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f210'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r210'>210</a>. Gifford, p. 23. See note by Mr. Dyce, p. 23.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f211'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r211'>211</a>. Introduction to Massinger, p. xv.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f212'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r212'>212</a>. “Lines on Shakespere,” p. 552; Ben Jonson’s Works.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f213'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r213'>213</a>. In 1615. Shakspeare died in 1616.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f214'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r214'>214</a>. Hartley Coleridge’s “Life of Massinger.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f215'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r215'>215</a>. Gifford’s “Life of Ben <a id='corr244.215.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Jouson'>Jonson</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_244.215.1'><ins class='correction' title='Jouson'>Jonson</ins></a></span>,” p. 59.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f216'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r216'>216</a>. “Royal and Noble Authors,” vol. ii., p. 268.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f217'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r217'>217</a>. “Life of Ben Jonson,” p. 63.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f218'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r218'>218</a>. Ibid., p. 67.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f219'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r219'>219</a>. Gifford’s “Ben Jonson,” p. 37.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f220'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r220'>220</a>. In Laing’s Preface to notes of Ben Jonson’s Conversation.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f221'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r221'>221</a>. Note by Dyce; Gifford, p. 38.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f222'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r222'>222</a>. Life, p. 49.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f223'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r223'>223</a>. This was communicated to Gifford by the late Mr.
-D’Israeli, to whom historical literature owes indeed much.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f224'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r224'>224</a>. Grainger, Biog. Hist., vol. i., p. 194.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f225'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r225'>225</a>. Gifford, p. 48.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f226'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r226'>226</a>. Gifford, p. 49.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f227'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r227'>227</a>. With a gentler feeling, Charles Lamb made numerous
-extracts from “The New Inn,” to show that the mind that
-produced the “Fox” was still there.--Ibid.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f228'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r228'>228</a>. Gifford, p. 48.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f229'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r229'>229</a>. Gifford.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f230'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r230'>230</a>. For some particulars of Sir John Beaumont, see Appendix.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f231'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r231'>231</a>. Burton’s “Anatomy of Melancholy,” vol i., p. 235.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f232'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r232'>232</a>. Stowe’s “Annals.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f233'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r233'>233</a>. Gull’s “Horn-book,” pp. 119, 120.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f234'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r234'>234</a>. Henry IV.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f235'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r235'>235</a>. Hartley Coleridge.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f236'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r236'>236</a>. Ibid--Note.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f237'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r237'>237</a>. Hartley Coleridge.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f238'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r238'>238</a>. See Cunningham’s “London,” Art. “Whitehall,” from
-Dugdale’s “Troubles in England.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f239'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r239'>239</a>. See Cunningham, vol. i., p. 311. The Author cannot
-avoid expressing obligations to this excellent work.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f240'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r240'>240</a>. Otherwise Bougton Place (or Palace). See Izaak
-Walton’s “Life of Sir H. Wotton.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f241'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r241'>241</a>. Ferdinand I., of the House of Medici, who, in 1589,
-succeeded his brother Francis.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f242'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r242'>242</a>. Collected and edited by Izaak Walton, in 1672.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f243'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r243'>243</a>. Cowley was born in 1618.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f244'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r244'>244</a>. He was born in 1608, and was only seventeen when he
-began the study of the law under his uncle, Sir Nicholas
-Hyde.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f245'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r245'>245</a>. State Papers, vol. cxiv., No. 17; August 27, 1627.
-Calendar, edited by Mr. Bruce.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f246'>
-<p class='c019'><a href='#r246'>246</a>. <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">“Historia et vitae et regni Ricardi II.,”</span> p. 104, by Mr. T.
-Hearne, who tells us the letter is said to have once belonged
-to Archbishop Sancroft, and observes it is the only
-intrigue he had ever heard this Prince was concerned in.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c000' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><a id='endnote'></a></p>
-<div class='tnotes'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c017'>
- <div><span class='large'>Transcriber’s Note</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>There are several anomolies in the footnoting. Footnotes were
-numbered from 1 to 99, and then the sequence was repeated, starting
-with ‘1’. There are also a number notes which are denoted only with
-a traditional asterisk, etc. There is no apparent reason for the
-dual system. There is one instance, on p. <a href='#Page_130'>130</a>, where a numbered
-footnote (<a href='#f138'>138</a>) is to be found referenced in a note (<a href='#f137'>137</a>)
-indicated with an asterisk. For this text, all footnotes have been
-re-sequenced numerically across the whole volume, to assure uniqueness.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>At the bottom of p. <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>, the letter opening ‘<span class='sc'>My dere Lord</span>’ is
-prefixed by an apparent footnote anchor, for which there is no matching
-note. This has been deemed a stray printer’s mark and removed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>On p. <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, the paragraph ending ‘bonds with another man.’ was
-printed with, in the original, a footnote anchor ‘1’, but there
-is no matching footnote. The ‘1’ anchor is repeated on the
-following page, with the expected note. The anomolous anchor
-has been removed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Given the frequent quotations, it was inevitable that opening
-and closing quotation marks would sometimes be lost or misplaced.
-A sampling of these problematic passages reveals that
-the author has a tendency to paraphrase and otherwise misquote.
-They are placed here where the context or voice makes their position
-obvious, or where an inspection of the original sources was possible
-and allowed for the proper placement.</p>
-
-<table class='table1' summary=''>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='14%' />
-<col width='61%' />
-<col width='23%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_29.18'></a><a href='#corr29.18'>29.18</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>to himself and all good men.[”]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_29.20'></a><a href='#corr29.20'>29.20</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>[“]Sir George Goring, writing</td>
- <td class='c033'>Removed.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_32.2'></a><a href='#corr32.2'>32.2</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>than with his victuals.[”]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_45.5'></a><a href='#corr45.5'>45.5</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>which were by the Duke so freely forgiven,[”]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_59.2'></a><a href='#corr59.2'>59.2</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>[“]and then, when should they be paid?”</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_60.17'></a><a href='#corr60.17'>60.17</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>were now content to forget him.[’]”</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_80.13'></a><a href='#corr80.13'>80.13</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>on any minister of start[.]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_87.15'></a><a href='#corr87.15'>87.15</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>says Lord Clarend[e/o]n</td>
- <td class='c033'>Replaced.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_87.18'></a><a href='#corr87.18'>87.18</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>for the pardon of his errors;[”]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_87.21'></a><a href='#corr87.21'>87.21</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>even Lord Clarend[e/o]n observes</td>
- <td class='c033'>Replaced.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_92.13'></a><a href='#corr92.13'>92.13</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>apparently cau[ /s]eless melancholy</td>
- <td class='c033'>Restored.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_114.2'></a><a href='#corr114.2'>114.2</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>looking down into y[<sup>e</sup>] hall</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_118.25'></a><a href='#corr118.25'>118.25</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>his end was upon Satterdau morning[.]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_217.15'></a><a href='#corr217.15'>217.15</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>in which Shak[s/e]speare had a share</td>
- <td class='c033'>Replaced.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_238.8'></a><a href='#corr238.8'>238.8</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>“authorizing Thomas Gyles,[”]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_240.22'></a><a href='#corr240.22'>240.22</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>to have first drank of it herself[.]</td>
- <td class='c033'>Added.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_244.215.1'></a><a href='#corr244.215.1'>244.215.1</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>Jo[u/n]son,” p. 59.</td>
- <td class='c033'>Replaced.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_259.20'></a><a href='#corr259.20'>259.20</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>sent [to ]request a transcript</td>
- <td class='c033'>Restored.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c032'><a id='c_326.21'></a><a href='#corr326.21'>326.21</a></td>
- <td class='c032'>Letter from Sir Francis Netherso[t/l]e</td>
- <td class='c033'>Replaced.</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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