: posed them with great alacrity to the prosecution. treaty set on foot for the prince of Wales with The wise king knew well enough the ill consequence the daughter of France; which was quickly conthat must attend such an activity; and that it cluded, though not executed till after the death of would shake his own authority in the choice of his king James; who, in the spring following, after a own ministers, when they should find, that their short indisposition by the gout, fell into a quartan security did not depend solely upon his own pro- ague, which, meeting many humours in a fat, untection which breach upon his kingly power was wieldy body of [fifty-eight] years old, in four or so much without a precedent, (except one unhappy five fits carried him out of the world. After one made three years before, to gratify likewise a whose death many scandalous and libellous disprivate displeasure,) that the like had not been courses were raised, without the least colour or practised in some hundred of years, and never in ground; as appeared upon the strictest and malicious examination that could be made, long after, in a time of license, when nobody was afraid of offending majesty, and when prosecuting the highest reproaches and contumelies against the royal family was held very meritorious. such a case as this. When this prosecution was first entered upon, and that the king clearly discerned that it was contrived by the duke, and that he had likewise prevailed with the prince to be well pleased with it; his majesty sent for them, and with much warmth and passion dissuaded them from appearing farther in it; and conjured them "to use all their interest "and authority to restrain it, as such a wound to "the crown, that would not be easily healed." And when he found the duke unmoved by all the considerations, and arguments, and commands he had offered, he said, in great choler, " By God, Stenny, you are a fool, and will shortly repent this folly, " and will find, that, in this fit of popularity, you are making a rod, with which you will be scourged yourself." And turning in some anger to the prince, told him, "That he would live to have his "bellyfull of parliaments: and that when he should "be dead, he would have too much cause to re"member, how much he had contributed to the weakening of the crown, by this precedent he was now so fond of;" intending as well the engaging the parliament in the war, as the prosecution of the earl of Middlesex. 66 66 66 66 66 But the duke's power (supported by the prince's countenance) was grown so great in the two houses, that it was in vain for the king to interpose; and so (notwithstanding so good a defence made by the earl, that he was absolved from any notorious crime by the impartial opinion of many of those who heard all the evidence) he was at last condemned in a great fine to a long and strict imprisonment, and never to sit in parliament during his life: a clause of such a nature as was never before found in any judgment of parliament, and, in truth, not to be inflicted upon any peer but by attainder. Upon the death of king James, Charles prince of Wales succeeded to the crown, with as universal a joy in the people as can be imagined, and in a conjuncture, when all the other parts of Christendom, being engaged in war, were very solicitous for his friendship; and the more, because he had already discovered an activity, that was not like to suffer him to sit still. The duke continued in the same degree of favour at the least with the son, which he had enjoyed so many years under the father. Which was a rare felicity; seldom known, and in which the expectation of very many was exceedingly disappointed; who, knowing the great jealousy and indignation that the prince had heretofore had against the duke, insomuch as he was once very near striking him, expected that he would now remember that insolence, of which he then so often complained; without considering the opportunity the duke had, by the conversation with the prince, during his journey into Spain, (which was so grateful to him,) and whilst he was there, to wipe out the memory of all former oversights, by making them appear to be of a less magnitude than they had been understood before, and to be excusable from other causes, still being severe enough to himself for his unwary part, whatsoever excuses he might make for the excess; and by this means to make new vows for himself, and to tie new knots to restrain the prince from future jealousies. And it is very true, his hopes in this kind never failed him; the new king, from the death of the old even to the death of the duke himself, discovering the most entire confidence in, And how aliened soever the king's affection was and even friendship to him, that ever king had in truth from the duke, upon these three provoca- shewed to any subject: all preferments in church tions; 1. The prince's journey into Spain; 2. The and state given by him; all his kindred and friends engaging the parliament to break the match and promoted to the degree in honour, or riches, or treaty with Spain, and to make a war against that offices, as he thought fit, and all his enemies and crown; and, 3. The sacrificing the earl of Middle-enviers discountenanced, and kept at that distance sex in such a manner, upon his own animosity; yet he was so far from thinking fit to manifest it, (except in whispers to very few men,) that he was prevailed with to restrain the earl of Bristol upon his first arrival, without permitting him to come into his presence, which he had positively promised, and resolved to do; and in the end suffered his attorney general to exhibit a charge of high treason, in his majesty's name, against the said earl, who was thereupon committed to the Tower; but so little dejected with it, that he answered the articles with great steadiness and unconcernedness, and exhibited another charge of high treason against the duke in many particulars. And in this order and method the war was hastily entered into against Spain, and a new from the court as he appointed. But a parliament was necessary to be called, as at the entrance of all kings to the crown, for the continuance of some supplies and revenue to the king, which have been still used to be granted in that season. And now he quickly found how prophetic the last king's predictions had [proved], and were like to prove. The parliament that had so furiously advanced the war, and so factiously adhered to his person, was now no more; and though the house of peers consisted still of the same men, and most of the principal men of the house of commons were again elected to serve in this parliament, yet they were far from wedding the war, or taking themselves to be concerned to make good any declarations made by the former: so that, though the war was entered in, all hope of obtaining money to carry it on was even desperate; and the affection they had for the duke, and confidence in him, was not then so manifest, as the prejudice they had now, and animosity against him, was visible to all the world: all the actions of his life ripped up and surveyed, and all malicious glosses made upon all he had said and all he had done: votes and remonstrances passed against him as an enemy to the public; and his ill management made the ground of their refusal to give the king that supply he had reason to expect, and was absolutely necessary to the state he was in. And this kind of treatment was so ill suited to the duke's great spirit, which indeed might easily have been bowed, but could very hardly be broken, that it wrought contrary effects upon his high mind, and his indignation, to find himself so used by the same men. For they who flattered him most before, mentioned him now with the greatest bitterness and acrimony; and the same men who had called him our saviour, for bringing the prince safe out of Spain, called him now the corrupter of the king, and betrayer of the liberties of the people, without imputing the least crime to him, to have been committed since the time of that exalted adulation, or that was not then as much known to them, as it could be now; so fluctuating and unsteady a testimony is the applause of popular councils. This indignation, I say, so transported the duke, that he thought it necessary to publish and manifest a greater contempt of them than he should have done; causing this and the next parliament to be quickly dissolved, as soon as they seemed to entertain counsels not grateful to him, and before he could well determine and judge what their temper was in truth like to prove: and upon every dissolution, such who had given any offence were imprisoned or disgraced; new projects were every day set on foot for money, which served only to offend and incense the people, and brought little supply to the king's occasions, yet raised a great stock for expostulation, murmur, and complaint, to be exposed when other supplies should be required. And many persons of the best quality and condition under the peerage were committed to several prisons, with circumstances unusual and unheard of, for refusing to pay money required by those extraordinary ways; and the duke himself would passionately say, and frequently do, many things, which only grieved his friends and incensed his enemies, and gave them as well the ability as the inclination to do him much harm. In this fatal conjuncture, and after several costly embassies into France, in the last of which the duke himself went, and brought triumphantly home with him the queen, to the joy of the nation; in a time, when all endeavours should have been used to have extinguished that war, in which the kingdom was so unhappily engaged against Spain, a new war was as precipitately declared against France; and the fleet, that had been unwarily designed to have surprised Cales, under a general very unequal to that great work, was no sooner returned without success, and with much damage, than the fleet was repaired, and the army reinforced for the invasion of France; in which the duke was general himself, and made that notable descent upon the Isle of Rhé, which was quickly afterwards attended with many unprosperous attempts, and then with a miserable retreat, in which the flower of the army was lost. So that how ill soever Spain and France were inclined to each other, they were both mortal enemies to England; whilst England itself was so totally taken up with the thought of revenge upon the person who they thought had been the cause of their distress, that they never considered, that the sad effects of it (if not instantly provided against) must inevitably destroy the kingdom; and gave no truce to their rage, till the duke finished his course by the wicked means mentioned before in the fourth year of the king, and the thirty-sixth of his age. John Felton, an obscure person, who had been bred a soldier, and lately a lieutenant of a foot company, whose captain had been killed upon the retreat at the Isle of Rhé, upon which he conceived that the company of right ought to have been conferred upon him, and it being refused to him by the duke of Buckingham, general of the army, he had given up his commission of lieutenant, and withdrawn himself from the army. He was of a melancholic nature, and had little conversation with anybody, yet of a gentleman's family in Suffolk, of good fortune and reputation. From the time that he had quitted the army, he resided in London; when the house of commons, transported with passion and prejudice against the duke of Buckingham, had accused him to the house of peers for several misdemeanours and miscarriages, and in some declaration had styled him, "the cause of all the evils the kingdom suffered, "and an enemy to the public." Some transcripts of such expressions, (for the late license of printing all mutinous and seditious discourses was not yet in fashion,) and some general invectives he met with amongst the people, to whom that great man was not grateful, wrought so far upon this melancholic gentleman, that, by degrees, and (as he said upon some of his examinations) by frequently hearing some popular preachers in the city, (who were not yet arrived at the presumption and impudence they have been since transported with,) he believed he should do God good service, if he killed the duke; which he shortly after resolved to do. He chose no other instrument to do it with than an ordinary knife, which he bought of a common cutler for a shilling: and, thus provided, he repaired to Portsmouth, where he arrived the eve of St. Bartholomew. The duke was then there, in order to the preparing and making ready the fleet and the army, with which he resolved in few days to transport himself to the relief of Rochelle, which was then straitly besieged by the cardinal of Richelieu; and for relief whereof the duke was the more obliged, by reason that, at his being at the Isle of Rhé, he had received great supplies of victual, and some companies of their garrison from that town, the want of both which they were at this time very sensible of, and grieved with. This morning of St. Bartholomew the duke had received letters, in which he was advertised that Rochelle had relieved itself; upon which he directed that his breakfast might speedily be made ready, and he would make haste to acquaint the king with the good news, the court being then at Southwick, the house of sir Daniel Norton, five miles from Portsmouth. The chamber wherein he was dressing himself was full of company, of persons of quality, and officers of the fleet and army. There was monsieur de Soubize, brother to the duke of Rohan, and other French gentlemen, who were very solicitous for the embarkation of the army, and for the departure of the fleet for the relief of Rochelle; and they were at this time in much trouble and perplexity, out of apprehension that the news the duke had received that morning might slacken the preparations for the voyage, which their impatience and interest persuaded were not advanced with expedition; and so they had then held much discourse with the duke of the impossibility that his intelligence could be true, and that it was contrived by the artifice and dexterity of their enemies, in order to abate the warmth and zeal that was used for their relief, the arrival of which they had so much reason to apprehend; and a little longer delay in sending it would ease them of that terrible apprehension, their forts and works toward the sea and in the harbour being almost finished. This discourse, according to the natural custom of that nation, and by the usual dialect of that language, was held with that passion and vehemence, that the standers by, who understood not French, did believe that they were very angry, and that they used the duke very rudely. He being ready, and informed that his breakfast was ready, drew towards the door, where the hangings were held up; and, in the very passage, turning himself to speak with sir Thomas Fryer, a colonel of the army, who was then speaking near his ear, he was on a sudden struck over his shoulder upon the breast with a knife; upon which, without using any other words but that, "The villain hath killed ," and in the same moment pulling out the me," knife himself, he fell down dead, the knife having pierced his heart. 66 No man had seen the blow, or the man who made it; but in the confusion they were in, every man made his own conjectures, and declared it as a thing known; most agreeing that it was done by the French, from the angry discourse they thought they heard from them. And it was a kind of a miracle, that they were not all killed in that instant; the soberer sort, that preserved them from it, having the same opinion of their guilt, and only reserving them for a more judicial examination and proceeding. In the crowd near the door there was found upon the ground a hat, in the inside whereof there was sewed upon the crown a paper, in which were writ four or five lines of that declaration made by the house of commons, in which they had styled the duke an enemy to the kingdom, and under it a short ejaculation or two towards a prayer. It was easily enough concluded that the hat belonged to the person who had committed the murder: but the difficulty remained still as great, who that person should be; for the writing discovered nothing of the name; and whosoever it was, it was very natural to believe that he was gone far enough not to be found without a hat. In this hurry, one running one way, another another way, a man was seen walking before the door very composedly without a hat; whereupon one crying out," Here is the fellow that killed the "duke!" upon which others ran thither, every body asking, "Which is he? Which is he?" To which the man without the hat very composedly answered, "I am he." Thereupon some of those who were most furious, suddenly ran upon the man with their drawn swords to kill him; but others, who were at least equally concerned in the loss, and in the sense of it, defended him; himself with open arms very calmly and cheerfully exposing himself to the fury and swords of the most enraged, as being very willing to fall a sacrifice to their sudden anger, rather than to be kept for that deliberate justice which he knew must be exercised upon him. 66 66 He was now known enough, and easily discovered to be that Felton, whom we mentioned before, who had been a lieutenant in the army. He was quickly carried into a private room by the persons of the best condition, some whereof were in authority, who first thought fit so far to dissemble, as to mention the duke only as grievously wounded, but not without hope of recovery. Upon which Felton smiled, and said, he knew well he had given him a blow, that had determined all those hopes. Being then asked (which was the discovery principally aimed at) by whose instigation he had performed that horrid and wicked act, he answered them with a wonderful assurance, "That they should not "trouble themselves in that inquiry; that no man living had credit or power enough in him, to have engaged or disposed him to such an action; that "he had never intrusted his purpose and reso"lution to any man; that it proceeded only from "himself and the impulsion of his own conscience; “ and that the motives thereunto would appear, if "his hat were found, in which he had therefore "fixed them, because he believed it very probable "that he might perish in the attempt. He con"fessed that he had come to the town but the night before, and had kept his lodging, that he "might not be seen or taken notice of; and that "he had come that morning to the duke's lodging, "where he had waited at the door for his coming "out; and when he found, by the motions within, "that he was coming, he drew to the door, as if " he held up the hanging; and sir Thomas Fryer "speaking at that time to the duke, as hath been said, and being of a much lower stature than the duke, who a little inclined towards him, he took "the opportunity of giving the blow over his "shoulder." He spoke very frankly of what he had done, and bore the reproaches of those who spoke to him, with the temper of a man who thought he had not done amiss. But after he had been in prison some time, where he was treated without any rigour, and with humanity enough; and before, and at his trial, which was about four months after, at the king's bench bar, he behaved himself with great modesty and wonderful repentance; being, as he said, convinced in his conscience, that he had done wickedly, and asked the pardon of the king, the duchess, and of all the duke's servants, whom he acknowledged to have offended; and very earnestly besought the judges, that he might have his hand struck off, with which he had performed that impious act, before he should be put to death. The court was too near Portsmouth, and too many courtiers upon the place, to have this murder (so wonderful in the nature and circumstances, the like whereof had not been known in England in many ages) long concealed from the king. majesty was at the public prayers of the church, when sir John Hippesly came into the room, with a troubled countenance, and, without any pause in His respect of the exercise they were performing, went directly to the king, and whispered in his ear what had fallen out. His majesty continued unmoved, and without the least change in his countenance, till prayers were ended; when he suddenly departed to his chamber, and threw himself upon his bed, lamenting with much passion, and with abundance of tears, the loss he had of an excellent servant, and the horrid manner in which he had been deprived of him; and he continued in this melancholic and discomposure of mind many days. demeanour at the Isle of Rhé, both at the landing and upon the retreat: in both which no man was more fearless, or more ready to expose himself to the brightest dangers. His kindness and affection to his friends was so vehement, that it was as so many marriages for better and worse, and so many leagues offensive and defensive; as if he thought himself obliged to love all his friends, and to make war upon all they were angry with, let the cause be what it would. And it cannot be denied that he was an enemy in the same excess, and prosecuted those he looked upon as his enemies with the utmost rigour and animosity, and was not easily induced to a reconciliation. And yet there were some examples of his receding in that particular. And in the highest passion, he was so far from stooping to any dissimulation, whereby his displeasure might be concealed and covered till he had attained his revenge, (the low method of courts,) that he never endeavoured to do any man an ill office, before he first told him what he was to expect from him, and reproached him with the injuries he had done, with so much generosity, that the person found it in his power to receive further satisfaction, in the way he would choose for himself. Yet the manner of his receiving the news in public, when it was first brought to him in the presence of so many, (who knew or saw nothing of the passion he expressed upon his retreat,) made many men to believe that the accident was not very ungrateful; at least, that it was very indifferent to him; as being rid of a servant very ungracious to the people, and the prejudice to whose person exceedingly obstructed all overtures made in parliament for his service. And, upon this observation, persons of all conditions took great license in speaking of the person of the duke, and dissecting all his infirmities, believing they should not thereby incur any displeasure of the king. In which they took very ill measures; for from that time almost to the time of his own death, the king admitted very few into any degree of trust, who had ever discovered themselves to be enemies to the duke, or against whom he had ever manifested a notable prejudice. And sure never any prince manifested a more lively regret for the loss of a servant, than his majesty did for this great man, in his constant favour and kindness to his wife and children, in a wonderful solicitous care for the payment of his debts, (which, it is very true, were contracted for his service; though in such a manner, that there remained no evidence of it, nor was any of the duke's officers intrusted with the knowledge of it, nor was there any record of it, but in his majesty's own generous memory,) and all offices of grace towards his servants. 66 And in this manner he proceeded with the earl of Oxford, a man of great name in that time, and whom he had endeavoured by many civil offices to make his friend, and who seemed equally to incline to the friendship: when he discovered (or, as many thought, but suspected) that the earl was entered into some cabal in parliament against him he could not be dissuaded by any of his friends, to whom he imparted his resolution; but meeting the earl the next day, he took him aside, and after many reproaches for such and such ill offices he had done, and for breaking his word towards him, he told him, "he would rely no longer on his friendship, nor should he expect any further friendship from him, but, on the contrary, he "would be for ever his enemy, and do him all "the mischief he could." The earl, (who, as many thought, had not been faulty towards him, was as great-hearted as he, and thought the very suspecting him to be an injury unpardonable,) without any reply to the particulars, declared," that he "neither cared for his friendship, nor feared his "hatred;" and from thence avowedly entered into the conversation and confidence of those who were always awake to discover, and solicitous to pursue, any thing that might prove to his disadvantage; which was of evil consequence to the duke, the earl being of the most ancient of the nobility, and a man of great courage, and of a family which had in no time swerved from its fidelity to the crown. After all this, and such a transcendent mixture of ill fortune, of which as ill conduct and great infirmities seem to be the foundation and source, this great man was a person of a noble nature, and generous disposition, and of such other endowments, as made him very capable of being a great favourite to a great king. He understood the arts and artifices of a court, and all the learning that is professed there, exactly well. By long practice in business, under a master that discoursed excellently, and surely knew all things wonderfully, and took much delight in indoctrinating his young unexperienced favourite, who, he knew, would be always looked upon as the workmanship of his Sir Francis Cottington, who was secretary to own hands, he had obtained a quick conception, the prince, and not grown courtier enough to disand apprehension of business, and had the habit of semble well his opinion, had given the duke offence speaking very gracefully and pertinently. He was before the journey into Spain, as is before touched of a most flowing courtesy and affability to all men upon, and improved that prejudice, after his comwho made any address to him; and so desirous to ing thither, by disposing the prince all he could to oblige them, that he did not enough consider the the marriage of the infanta; and by his behaviour value of the obligation, or the merit of the person after his return, in justifying to king James, who he chose to oblige; from which much of his mis- had a very good opinion of him, the sincerity of the fortune resulted. He was of a courage not to be Spaniards in the treaty of the marriage, daunted, which was manifested in all his actions,"" they did in truth desire it, and were fully reand his contests with particular persons of the "solved to gratify his majesty in the business of greatest reputation; and especially in his whole" the palatinate; and only desired, in the manner "That દ "of it, to gratify the emperor and the duke of "Bavaria all they could, which would take up very "little time." All which being so contrary to the duke's positions and purposes, his displeasure to Cottington was sufficiently manifest. And king James was no sooner dead, and the new officers and orders made, but the profits and privileges which had used to be continued to him who had been secretary, till some other promotion, were all retrenched. And when he was one morning at tending in the privy lodgings, as he was accustomed to do, one of the secretaries of state came to him, and told him, "that it was the king's pleasure that " he should no more presume to come into those rooms;" (which was the first instance he had received of the king's disfavour;) and at the same instant the duke entered into that quarter. Upon which sir Francis Cottington addressed himself towards him, and desired "he would give him "leave to speak to him:" upon which the duke inclining his ear, moved to a window from the company, and the other told him, "that he re"ceived every day fresh marks of his severity;" mentioned the message which had been then delivered to him, and desired only to know," whether "it could not be in his power, by all dutiful appli"cation, and all possible service, to be restored to "the good opinion his grace had once vouchsafed "to have of him, and to be admitted to serve "him?" The duke heard him without the least commotion, and with a countenance serene enough, and then answered him, "That he would deal very clearly with him; that it was utterly impossible to bring that to pass which he had proposed: that he was not only firmly resolved never to trust him, or to have to do with him; "but that he was, and would be always, his de"clared enemy; and that he would do always "whatever should be in his power to ruin and destroy him, and of this he might be most "assured;" without mentioning any particular ground for his so heightened displeasure. 66 66 The other very calmly replied to him, (as he was master of an incomparable temper,) "That "since he was resolved never to do him good, that "he hoped, from his justice and generosity, that "he would not suffer himself to gain by his loss; "that he had laid out by his command so much "money for jewels and pictures, which he had "received: and that, in hope of his future favour, he had once presented a suit of hangings "to him, which cost him 800l. which he hoped "he would cause to be restored to him, and that "he would not let him be so great a loser by him." The duke answered, " he was in the right; that "he should the next morning go to Oliver, (who was his receiver,) and give him a particular account of all the money due to him, and he "should presently pay him;" which was done the next morning accordingly, without the least abatement of any of his demands. And he was so far reconciled to him before his death, that being resolved to make a peace with Spain; to the end he might more vigorously pursue the war with France, (to which his heart was most passionately fixed,) he sent for Cottington to come to him, and after conference with him, told him, "the king would send him am"bassador thither, and that he should attend him " at Portsmouth for his despatch.” His single misfortune was, (which indeed was productive of many greater,) that he never made a noble and a worthy friendship with a man so near his equal, that he would frankly advise him for his honour and true interest, against the current, or rather the torrent, of his impetuous passion; which was partly the vice of the time, when the court was not replenished with great choice of excellent men; and partly the vice of the persons who were most worthy to be applied to, and looked upon his youth, and his obscurity, as obligations upon him to gain their friendships by extraordinary application. Then his ascent was so quick, that it seemed rather a flight than a growth; and he was such a darling of fortune, that he was at the top before he was seen at the bottom, for the gradation of his titles was the effect, not cause, of his first promotion; and, as if he had been born a favourite, he was supreme the first month he came to court; and it was want of confidence, not of credit, that he had not all at first which he obtained afterwards; never meeting with the least obstruction from his setting out, till he was as great as he could be: so that he wanted dependants before he thought he could want coadjutors. Nor was he very fortunate in the election of those dependants, very few of his servants having been ever qualified enough to assist or advise him, and were intent only upon growing rich under him, not upon their master's growing good as well as great: insomuch as he was throughout his fortune a much wiser man than any servant or friend he had. Let the fault or misfortune be what or whence it will, it may very reasonably be believed, that, if he had been blessed with one faithful friend, who had been qualified with wisdom and integrity, that great person would have committed as few faults, and done as transcendent worthy actions, as any man who shined in such a sphere in that age in Europe. For he was of an excellent nature, and of a capacity very capable of advice and counsel. He was in his nature just and candid, liberal, generous, and bountiful; nor was it ever known, that the temptation of money swayed him to do an unjust or unkind thing. And though he left a very great inheritance to his heirs; considering the vast fortune he inherited by his wife, the sole daughter and heir of Francis earl of Rutland, he owed no part of it to his own industry or solicitation, but to the impatient humour of two kings his masters, who would make his fortune equal to his titles, and the one [as much] above other men, as the other was. And he considered it no otherwise than as theirs, and left it at his death engaged for the crown, almost to the value of it, as is touched upon before. If he had an immoderate ambition, with which he was charged, and is a weed (if it be a weed) apt to grow in the best soils; it doth not appear that it was in his nature, or that he brought it with him to the court, but rather found it there, and was a garment necessary for that air. Nor was it more in his power to be without promotion, and titles, and wealth, than for a healthy man to sit in the sun in the brightest dog-days, and remain without any warmth. He needed no ambition, who was so seated in the hearts of two such masters. There are two particulars, which lie heaviest |