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diff --git a/old/54288-0.txt b/old/54288-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d75e630..0000000 --- a/old/54288-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8622 +0,0 @@ -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) - - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - 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 - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE, TIMES OF GEORGE VILLIERS, VOL 3 *** - -***** This file should be named 54288-0.txt or 54288-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/2/8/54288/ - -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) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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