upon his memory, either of them aggravated by circumstances very important, and which administer frequent occasions by their effects to be remembered. The first, his engaging his old unwilling master and the kingdom in the war with Spain, (not to mention the bold journey thither, or the breach of that match,) in a time when the crown was so poor, and the people more inclined to a bold inquiry, how it came to be so, than dutifully to provide for its supply: and this only upon personal animosities between him and the duke of Olivarez, the sole favourite in that court, and those animosities from very trivial provocations, and flowed indeed from no other fountain, than that the nature and education of Spain restrained men from that gaiety of humour, and from that frolic humour, to which the prince's court was more inclined. And Olivarez had been heard to censure very severely the duke's familiarity and want of respect towards the prince, (a crime monstrous to the Spaniard,) and had said, that "if the "infanta did not, as soon as she was married, suppress that license, she would herself quickly "undergo the mischief of it :" which gave the first alarm to the duke to apprehend his own ruin in that union, and accordingly to use all his endeavours to break and prevent it: and from that time he took all occasions to quarrel with and reproach the Conde duke. One morning the king desired the prince to take the air, and to visit a little house of pleasure he had (the Prado) four miles from Madrid, standing in a forest, where he used sometimes to hunt; and the duke not being ready, the king and the prince and the infante don Carlos went into the coach, the king likewise calling the earl of Bristol into that coach to assist them in their conversation, the prince then not speaking any Spanish; and left Olivarez to follow in the coach with the duke of Buckingham. When the duke came, they went into the coach, accompanied with others of both nations, and proceeded very cheerfully towards overtaking the king: but when upon the way he heard that the earl of Bristol was in the coach with the king, he broke out into great passion, reviled the Conde duke as the contriver of the affront, reproached the earl of Bristol for his presumption, in taking the place which in all respects belonged to him, who was joined with him as ambassador extraordinary, and came last from the presence of their master, and resolved to go out of the coach, and to return to Madrid. Olivarez easily discovered by the disorder, and the noise, and the tone, that the duke was very angry, without comprehending the cause of it; only found that the earl of Bristol was often named with such a tone, that he began to suspect what in truth might be the cause. And thereupon he commanded a gentleman, who was on horseback, with all speed to overtake the king's coach, and desire that it might stay; intimating, that the duke had taken some displeasure, the ground whereof was not enough understood. Upon which the king's coach stayed; and when the other approached within distance, the Conde duke alighted, and acquainted the king with what he had observed, and what he conceived. The king himself alighted, made great compliments to the duke, the earl of Bristol excusing himself upon the king's command, that he should serve as a trustman. In the end don Carlos went into the coach with the favourite, and the duke and the earl of Bristol went with the king and the prince; and so they prosecuted their journey, and after dinner returned in the same manner to Madrid. This, with all the circumstances of it, administered wonderful occasion of discourse in the court and country, there having never been such a comet seen in that hemisphere; and their submiss reverence to their princes being a vital part of their religion. There were very few days passed afterwards, in which there was not some manifestation of the highest displeasure and hatred in the duke against the other. And when the Conde duke had some eclaircissement with the duke, in which he made all the protestations of his sincere affection, and his desire to maintain a clear and faithful friendship with him, which he conceived might be, in some degree, useful to both their masters; the other received his protestations with all contempt, and declared, with a very unnecessary frankness," that he would have no friendship with him.” And the next day after the king returned from accompanying the prince towards the sea, where, at parting, there were all possible demonstrations of mutual affection between them; and the king caused a fair pillar to be erected in the place where they last embraced each other, with inscriptions of great honour to the prince; their being then in that court not the least suspicion, or imagination, that the marriage would not succeed. Insomuch that afterwards, upon the news from Rome, that the dispensation was granted, the prince having left the desponsorios in the hands of the earl of Bristol, in which the infante don Carlos was constituted the prince's proxy to marry the infanta on his behalf; she was treated as princess of Wales, the queen gave her place, and the English ambassador had frequent audiences, as with his mistress, in which he would not be covered: yet, I say, the very next day after the prince's departure from the king, Mr. Clark, one of the prince's bedchamber, who had formerly served the duke, was sent back to Madrid, upon pretence that somewhat was forgotten there, but in truth, with orders to the earl of Bristol not to deliver the desponsorios (which, by the articles, he was obliged to do within fifteen days after the arrival of the dispensation) until he should receive further orders from the prince, or king, after his return into England. Mr. Clark was not to deliver this letter to the ambassador, till he was sure the dispensation was come; of which he could not be advertised in the instant. But he lodging in the ambassador's house, and falling sick of a calenture, which the physicians thought would prove mortal, he sent for the earl to come to his bedside, and delivered him the letter before the arrival of the dispensation, though long after it was known to be granted; upon which all those ceremonies were performed to the infanta. By these means, and by this method, this great affair, upon which the eyes of Christendom had been so long fixed, came to be dissolved, without the least mixture with, or contribution from, those amours, which were afterwards so confidently discoursed of. For though the duke was naturally carried violently to those passions, intended to do, and was hindered by a very accident, he came into her chamber in much passion, and, after some expostulations rude enough, he told her, "she should repent it." And her majesty answering with some quickness, he replied insolently to her, "that there had been queens when there was any grace or beauty in the object; yet the duchess of Olivarez, of whom the talk was, was then a woman so old, past children, of so abject a presence, in a word, so crooked and deformed, that she could neither tempt his appetite, or magnify his revenge. And whatever he did afterwards in England was but tueri" in England who had lost their heads." And opus, and to prosecute the design he had, upon the reasons and provocations aforesaid, so long before contrived during his abode in Spain. The other particular, by which he involved himself in so many fatal intricacies, from which he could never extricate himself, was, his running violently into the war with France, without any kind of provocation, and upon a particular passion very unwarrantable. In his embassy in France, where his person and presence was wonderfully admired and esteemed, (and in truth it was a wonder in the eyes of all men,) and in which he appeared with all the lustre the wealth of England could adorn him with, and outshined all the bravery that court could dress itself in, and overacted the whole nation in their own most peculiar vanities; he had the ambition to fix his eyes upon, and to dedicate his most violent affection to, a lady of a very sublime quality, and to pursue it with most importunate addresses: insomuch as when the king had brought the queen his sister as far as he meant to do, and delivered her into the hands of the duke, to be by him conducted into England; the duke, in his journey, after his departure from that court, took a resolution once more to make a visit to that great lady, which he believed he might do with great privacy. But it was so easily discovered, that provision was made for his reception; and if he had pursued his attempt, he had been without doubt assassinated; of which he had only so much notice, as served him to decline the danger. But he swore, in the instant, "that he "would see and speak with that lady, in spite "of the strength and power of France." And from the time that the queen arrived in England, he took all the ways he could to undervalue and exasperate that court and nation, by causing all those who fled into England from the justice and displeasure of that king, to be received and entertained here, not only with ceremony and security, but with bounty and magnificence; and the more extraordinary the persons were, and the more notorious the king's displeasure was towards them, (as in that time there were very many lords and ladies of that classis,) the more respectfully they were received and esteemed. He omitted no opportunity to incense the king against France, and to dispose him to assist the Hugonots, whom he likewise encouraged to give their king some trouble. it was universally known, that, during his life, the queen never had any credit with the king, with reference to any public affairs, and so could not divert the resolution of making a war with France. But a The war with Spain had found the nation in a surfeit of a long peace, and in a disposition inclinable enough to war with that nation, which might put an end to an alliance the most ungrateful to them, and which they most feared, and from whence no other damage had yet befallen them, than a chargeable and unsuccessful voyage by sea, without the loss of ships or men. war with France must be carried on at another rate and expense. Besides, the nation was weary and surfeited with the first, before the second was entered upon; and it was very visible to wise men, that when the general trade of the kingdom, from whence the support of the crown principally resulted, should be utterly extinguished with France, as it was with Spain, and interrupted or obstructed with all other places, (as it must be, in a war, how prosperously soever carried on,) the effects would be very sad, and involve the king in many perplexities; and it could not but fall out accordingly. Upon the return from Cales without success, though all the ships, and, upon the matter, all the men were seen, (for though some had so surfeited in the vineyards, and with the wines, that they had been left behind, the generosity of the Spaniards had sent them all home again;) and though by that fleet's putting in at Plymouth, near two hundred miles from London, so that there could be very imperfect relations, and the news of yesterday was contradicted the morrow; besides the expedition had been undertaken by the advice of the parliament, and with an universal approbation of the people, so that nobody could reasonably speak loudly against it; yet, notwithstanding all this, the ill success was heavily borne, and imputed to ill conduct; the principal officers of the fleet and army divided amongst themselves, and all united in their murmurs against the general, the lord viscount Wimbledon; who, though an old officer in Holland, was never thought equal to the enterprise, and had in truth little more of a Holland officer than the pride and formality. In a word, there was indisposition enough quickly discovered against the war itself, that it was easily discerned it would not be pursued with the vigour it was entered into, nor carried on by any cheerful contribution of money from the public. But the running into this war with France (from whence the queen was so newly and so joyfully received) without any colour of reason, or so much as the formality of a declaration from the king, containing the ground, and provocation, and end of it, according to custom and obligation in the like cases, (for it was observed that the declaration which was published was in the duke's own name, who went admiral and general of the expedition,) opened the mouths of all men to inveigh against it with all bitterness, and the sudden ill effects of it, manifested in the return of the fleet to Portsmouth, within such a distance of London, that nothing could be concealed of the loss sustained; in which most noble families found a son, or brother, or near kinsman wanting, without such circumstances of their deaths which are usually the consolations and recompenses of such catastrophes. The retreat had been a rout without an enemy, and the French had their revenge by the disorder and coufusion of the English themselves; in which great numbers of noble and ignoble were crowded to death, or drowned without the help of an enemy: and as many thousands of the common men were wanting, so few of those principal officers who had attained to a name in war, and by whose. courage and experience any war was to be conducted, could be found. The effects of this overthrow did not at first appear in whispers, murmurs, and invectives, as the retirement from Cales 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: mutinies in the fleet and army, under pretence of their want of pay, (whereof no doubt there was much due to them,) but in truth, out of detestation of the service, and the authority of the duke. The counties throughout the kingdom were so incensed, and their affections poisoned, that they refused to suffer the soldiers to be billeted upon them; by which they often underwent greater inconveniences and mischiefs than they endeavoured to prevent. The endeavour to raise new men for the recruit of the army by pressing (the only method that had ever been practised upon such occasions) found opposition in many places; and the authority by which it was done not submitted to, as illegal; which produced a resort to martial law, by which many were executed; which raised an asperity in the minds of more than of the common people. And this distemper was so universal, the least spark still meeting with combustible matter enough to make a flame, that all wise men looked upon it as the prediction of the destruction and dissolution that would follow. Nor was there a serenity in the countenance of any man, who had age and experience enough to consider things to come; but only in those who wished the destruction of the duke, and thought it could not be purchased at too dear a price, and looked upon this flux of humours as an inevitable way to bring it to pass. And it cannot be denied, that, from these two wars so wretchedly entered into, and the circumstances before mentioned, and which flowed from thence, the duke's ruin took its date: and never left pursuing him, till that execrable act upon his person; the malice whereof was contracted by that sole evil spirit of the time, without any partner in the conspiracy. And the venom of that season increased and got vigour, until, from one license to another, it proceeded till the nation was corrupted to that monstrous degree, that it grew satiated, and weary of the government itself; under which it had enjoyed a greater measure of felicity, than any nation was ever possessed of; and which could never be continued to them, but under the same. And as these calamities originally sprung from the inordinate appetite and passion of this young man, under the too much easiness of two indulgent masters, and the concurrence of a thousand other accidents; so that, if he had lived longer, (for he was taken away at the age af thirty-six years,) the observation and experience he had, which had very much improved his understanding, with the greatness of his spirit, and jealousy of his master's honour, (to whom his fidelity was superior to any temptation,) might have repaired many of the inconveniences which he had introduced, and would have prevented the mischiefs which were the natural effects of those causes. There were many stories scattered abroad at that time, of several prophecies and predictions of the duke's untimely and violent death. Amongst the rest there was one, which was upon a better foundation of credit than usually such discourses are founded upon. There was an officer in the king's wardrobe in Windsor castle, of a good reputation for honesty and discretion, and then about the age of fifty years, or more. This man had, in his youth, been bred in a school, in the parish where sir George Villiers, the father of the duke, lived, and had been much cherished and obliged, in that season of his age, by the said sir George, whom afterwards he never saw. About six months before the miserable end of the duke of Buckingham, about midnight, this man being in his bed at Windsor, where his office was, and in very good health, there appeared to him, on the side of his bed, a man of a very venerable aspect, who drew the curtains of his bed, and, fixing his eyes upon him, asked him, if he knew him. The poor man, half dead with fear and apprehension, being asked the second time, whether he remembered him; and having in that time called to his memory the presence of sir George Villiers, and the very clothes he used to wear, in which at that time he seemed to be habited, he answered, "that he thought him "to be that person." He replied, "he was in the right; that he was the same, and that he expected a service from him; which was, that he "should go from him to his son the duke of Buckingham, and tell him, if he did not do somewhat "to ingratiate himself to the people, or, at least, to "abate the extreme malice they had against him, "he would be suffered to live a short time." And after this discourse he disappeared; and the poor man, if he had been at all waking, slept very well till morning, when he believed all this to be a dream, and considered it no otherwise. 66 66 66 The next night, or shortly after, the same person appeared to him again in the same place, and about the same time of the night, with an aspect a little more severe than before, and asked him, whether he had done as he had required him: and perceiving he had not, gave him very sharp reprehensions; told him, "he expected more compliance from "him; and that, if he did not perform his com"mands, he should enjoy no peace of mind, but "should be always pursued by him;" upon which, he promised him to obey him. But the next morning waking out of a good sleep, though he was exceedingly perplexed with the lively representation of all particulars to his memory, he was willing still to persuade himself that he had only dreamed; and considered, that he was a person at such a distance from the duke, that he knew not how to find any admission to his presence, much less had any hope to be believed in what he should say. And so with great trouble and unquietness, he spent some time in thinking what he should do, and in the end resolved to do nothing in the matter. The same person appeared to him the third time, D 66 66 66 66 with a terrible countenance, and bitterly reproach-" he said he durst not impart to him, the duke's ing him for not performing what he had promised "colour changed, and he swore he could come to to do. The poor man had by this time recovered "that knowledge only by the devil; for that those the courage to tell him, "That in truth he had departiculars were only known to himself, and to "ferred the execution of his commands, upon con- one person more, who, he was sure, would never sidering, how difficult a thing it would be for him speak of it." "to get any access to the duke, having acquaint- The duke pursued his purpose of hunting; but ance with no person about him; and if he could was observed to ride all the morning with great "obtain admission to him, he should never be able pensiveness, and in deep thoughts, without any "to persuade him, that he was sent in such a man- delight in the exercise he was upon; and before ner; but he should at best be thought to be mad, the morning was spent, left the field, and alighted or to be set on and employed, by his own or the at his mother's lodgings in Whitehall; with whom "malice of other men, to abuse the duke; and so he was shut up for the space of two or three hours; "he should be sure to be undone." The person the noise of their discourse frequently reaching the replied, as he had done before, "That he should ears of those who attended in the next rooms: never find rest, till he should perform what he and when the duke left her, his countenance aprequired; and therefore he were better to des-peared full of trouble, with a mixture of anger; a patch it that the access to his son was known countenance that was never before observed in him, "to be very easy; and that few men waited long in any encounters with her: towards her he had "for him: and for the gaining him credit, he ever a most profound reverence. And the countess "would tell him two or three particulars, which herself (for though she was married to a private "he charged him never to mention to any person gentleman, sir Thomas Compton, she had been living, but to the duke himself; and he should created countess of Buckingham, shortly after her no sooner hear them, but he would believe all son had first assumed that title) was, at the duke's "the rest he should say;" and so repeating his leaving her, found overwhelmed in tears, and in threats, he left him, the highest agony imaginable. Whatever there was of all this, it is a notorious truth, that when the news of the duke's murder (which happened within few months after) was brought to his mother, she seemed not in the least degree surprised; but received it as if she had foreseen it; nor did afterwards express such a degree of sorrow, as was expected from such a mother, for the loss of such a son. 66 66 And in the morning, the poor man, more confirmed by the last appearance, made his journey to London; where the court then was. He was very well known to sir Ralph Freeman, one of the masters of requests, who had married a lady that was nearly allied to the duke, and was himself well received by him. To him this man went; and though he did not acquaint him with all particulars, he said enough to him to let him see there was somewhat extraordinary in it; and the knowledge he had of the sobriety and discretion of the man made the more impression in him. He desired that "by his means he might be brought to "the duke; to such a place, and in such a manner, as should be thought fit: that he had much to say to him; and of such a nature, as would require much privacy, and some time and patience "in the hearing." Sir Ralph promised "he would "speak first with the duke of him, and then he "should understand his pleasure:" and accordingly, in the first opportunity, he did inform him of the reputation and honesty of the man, and then what he desired, and of all he knew of the matter. The duke, according to his usual openness and condescension, told him, "That he was the next day early to hunt with the king; that his horses "should attend him at Lambeth-bridge, where he "would land by five of the clock in the morning; "and if the man attended him there at that hour, "he would walk, and speak with him, as long as "should be necessary. "" Sir Ralph carried the man with him the next morning, and presented him to the duke at his landing, who received him courteously; and walked aside in conference near an hour, none but his own servants being at that hour in that place; and they and sir Ralph at such a distance, that they could not hear a word, though the duke sometimes spoke, and with great commotion; which sir Ralph the more easily observed, and perceived, because he kept his eyes always fixed upon the duke; having procured the conference, upon somewhat he knew there was of extraordinary. And the man told him in his return over the water, "That when he mentioned those particulars which were to gain him credit, the substance whereof 66 This digression, much longer than it was intended, may not be thought altogether unnatural in this discourse. For as the mention of his death was very pertinent, in the place, and upon the occasion, it happened to be made; so upon that occasion it seemed the more reasonable to enlarge upon the nature, and character, and fortune of the duke; as being the best mirror to discern the temper and spirit of that age, and the rather and because all the particulars before set down are to be found in the papers and memorials of the person, whose life is the subject of this discourse, who was frequently heard to relate the wonderful concurrence of many fatal accidents, to disfigure the government of two excellent kings; under whom their kingdoms in general prospered exceedingly, and enjoyed a longer peace, a greater plenty, and in fuller security, than had been in any former age; and who was so far from any acrimony to the memory of that great favourite, (whose death he had lamented at that time, and endeavoured to vindicate him from some libels and reproaches, which vented after his death,) that he took delight in remembering his many virtues, and to magnify his affability and most obliging nature; and he kept the memorial of that prediction, (though no man looked upon relations of that nature with less reverence and consideration,) the substance of which (he said) was confirmed to him by sir Ralph Freeman, and acknowledged by some servants of the duke's, who had the nearest trust with him, and who were informed of much of it before the murder of the duke. And because there was so total a change of all counsels, and in the whole face of the court, upon the death of that omnipotent favourite; all thoughts of war being presently laid aside, (though there was a faint looking towards the relief of Rochelle by the fleet, that was ready under the command of the earl of Lindsey,) and the provisions for peace and plenty taken to heart; it will not be unuseful nor unpleasant to enlarge the digression, before a return to the proper subject of the discourse, by a prospect of the constitution of the court, after that bright star was shot out of the horizon; who were the chief ministers, that had the principal management of public affairs in church and state; and how equal their faculties and qualifications were for those high transactions; in which mention shall be only made of those who were then in the highest trust; there being at that time no ladies, who had disposed themselves to intermeddle in business and hereafter, when that activity began, and made any progress, it will be again necessary to take a new survey of the court upon that alteration. : Sir Thomas Coventry was then lord keeper of the great seal of England, and newly made a baron. He was a son of the robe, his father having been a judge in the court of the common pleas; who took great care to breed his son, though his first-born, in the study of the common law; by which himself had been promoted to that degree; and in which, in the society of the Inner Temple, his son made a notable progress, by an early eminence in practice and learning: insomuch as he was recorder of London, solicitor general, and king's attorney, before he was forty years of age. A rare ascent! All which offices he discharged with great abilities, and singular reputation of integrity. In the first year after the death of king James, he was advanced to be keeper of the great seal of England (the natural advancement from the office of attorney general) upon the removal of the bishop of Lincoln; who, though a man of great, wit and good scholastic learning, was generally thought so very unequal to the place, that his remove was the only recompense and satisfaction that could be made for his promotion. And yet it was enough known, that the disgrace proceeded only from the private displeasure of the duke of Buckingham. The lord Coventry enjoyed this place with an universal reputation (and sure justice was never better administered) for the space of about sixteen years, even to his death, some months before he was sixty years of age; which was another important circumstance of his felicity, that great office being so slippery, that no man had died in it before for near the space of forty years. Nor had his successors, for some time after him, much better fortune. And he himself had use of all his strength and skill (as he was an excellent wrestler) to preserve himself from falling, in two shocks the one given him by the earl of Portland, lord high treasurer of England; the other by the marquis of Hamilton, who had the greatest power over the affections of the king of any man of that grow every day more sturdy and inquisitive and impatient; and therefore naturally abhorred all innovations which he foresaw would produce ruinous effects. Yet many, who stood at a distance, thought that he was not active and stout enough in the opposing those innovations. For though, by his place, he presided in all public councils, and was most sharp-sighted in the consequence of things; yet he was seldom known to speak in matters of state, which, he well knew, were for the most part concluded, before they were brought to that public agitation; never in foreign affairs, which the vigour of his judgment could well comprehend; nor indeed freely in any thing, but what immediately and plainly concerned the justice of the kingdom; and in that, as much as he could, he procured references to the judges. Though in his nature he had not only a firm gravity, but a severity, and even some morosity, (which his children and domestics had evidence enough of,) yet it was so happily tempered, and his courtesy and affability towards all men was so transcendent, so much without affectation, that it marvellously reconciled to all men of all degrees, and he was looked upon as an excellent 'courtier, without receding from the native simplicity of his own manner. He had, in the plain way of speaking and delivery, without much ornament of elocution, a strange power of making himself believed, the only justifiable design of eloquence: so that though he used very frankly to deny, and would never suffer any man to depart from him with an opinion that he was inclined to gratify, when in truth he was not, holding that dissimulation to be the worst of lying; yet the manner of it was so gentle and obliging, and his condescension such, to inform the persons whom he could not satisfy, that few departed from him with ill will, and ill wishes. But then, this happy temper and these good faculties rather preserved him from having many enemies, and supplied him with some well-wishers, than furnished him with any fast and unshaken friends; who are always procured in courts by more ardour, and more vehement professions and applications, than he would suffer himself to be entangled with. So that he was a man rather exceedingly liked, than passionately loved insomuch that it never appeared, that he had any one friend in the court, of quality enough to prevent or divert any disadvantage he might be exposed to. And therefore it is no wonder, nor to be imputed to him, that he retired within himself as much as he could, and stood upon his defence without making desperate sallies against growing mischiefs; which, he knew well, he had no power to hinder, and which might probably begin in his own ruin. To conclude; his security consisted very much in the little credit he had with the king; and he died in a season most opportune, and in which a wise man would have prayed to have finished his course, and which in truth crowned his other signal prosperity in the world. Sir Richard Weston had been advanced to the white staff, to the office of lord high treasurer of England, some months before the death of the duke of Buckingham; and had, in that short time, so much disobliged him, at least disappointed his expectation, that many, who were privy to the duke's most secret purposes, did believe, that, if he had |