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THE LIFE AID TIMES
or
GEOEGE VILLIERS
DUKE OF BUCKIUaHAM.
FROM OKIGINAI, AND AUTHENTIC SOUKCBS.
BY MRS. THOMSON,
AVTH6B oe
"MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF HENRT THE EIGHTH,"
"LIFE OF SIR WALTER RALEGH,"
"MEMOIRS OF SAEAH, DUCHESS OF MAELBOEOUGH,"
*c., Ac

m THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. L

LONDON:
HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,
SUC0ESS0R8 TO HENEY COLBURN,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1860.
The right of Translation ts reserved.

LONDON !
FEINTED BT E. BOBN, GLOTIOESTEE STREET,
eegent's FASE,

TO
MT ELDEST SON,
THE REV. ANTHONY FRANCIS THOMSON,
THESE VOLUMES
ARE
MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.

Vl PREFACE,
The opinions expressed, nevertheless, in both
these works, have been confirmed, in many points,
by the letters in the State Paper Office, to which
historical writers have not only now free access,
but which have lately been arranged, whilst valu
able Calendars have been published, so as to facili
tate investigations which were formerly most la
borious. In all that relates personally to Greorge
Villiers, the State Papers are especially important.
The great Rebellion, amongst mightier devas
tations, swept away most of that domestic corre
spondence which might otherwise have been found
in the three noble families who are collaterally
descended frem Buckingham ; those of the Earls
of Jersey and Clarendon, and of his Grace
the Duke of Rutland, none of whom possess
any letters ef their unfortunate ancestor.
Nor is this fact to be wondered at, when we
consider not only the stormy period that suc
ceeded Buckingham's death, but the extreme
youth of his children at the time of his assassina
tion, the second marriage of his widow, and the
long years ef exile which his heir, George,
the second Duke of Buckingham of the house
ef Villiers, passed in wandering and indigence.
The documents in the State Paper Office
become, therefore, doubly valuable, and every
possible advantage has been. taken of a mine so

PREFACE. VU
rich in the present Memoir. It was, indeed,
in 1849, some time before the Calendars by Mrs.
Everett Green, and Mr. Bruce, were published,
that this work was begun. The letters in the
State Paper Office were then merely arranged in
chronological order, and divided inte foreign and
domestic. But the valuable advice, the very great
courtesy, and kind assistance of Mr. Lechmere
and Mr. Lemon, enabled the authoress still te
derive great benefit from her researches even at
that time. Her werk having been laid aside,
though nearly completed, during a residence of
several years en the Continent, the publication
of the Calendars of State Papers had, meantime,
taken place, and they enabled her, in resuming her
task, to revise such parts of the memoir as had
been written, and to finish the whole with greater
accuracy and fulness of information than could
otherwise have been done, and although the re
vision has caused considerable delay and labour,
it has been ef incalculable advantage to the
werk. Ofthe Calendar for 1628-1629, which recently
appeared, edited by Mr. Bruce, the authoress
has not been able to avail herself to the
same extent as of the four former volumes,
since her work was nearly printed before it was
published. She has, therefore, been obliged to

Vlll PREFACE.
insert in her Appendix the examination of Ben
Jonson, and one or two other papers which could
not be interwoven with the narrative, although
of great interest. It is satisfactory to her to find
that the contents ef this, the latest volume of the
State Paper Calendars, confirm, in some important
points, the views which she has taken of Bucking
ham's motives and intentions. They also exhibit
distinctly the great difficulties of his course ; and
more especially in regard to the fatal expedition
to La Rochelle.
The authoress believes that she has discharged
her task as a biographer with impartiality : she con
fesses, nevertheless, to a strong interest in the faulty
but attractive character which she has attempted
to delineate. When stating, in her summary ef
the Duke's qualities, that time and trouble were
rendering him a wiser and a better man, she was
ignorant of the following tribute to Buckingham,
written, when all patronage was closed by his
death, by Dudley, Viscount Dorchester, te the
Queen of Bohemia, and printed in the last
volume of the Calendar.
" The Duke declared a purpose to Dorchester
"on his (the Viscount's) last return frem the
" Queen ef Bohemia, which he has since often re-
" iterated, of making him, by his favour with the
" King his master, an instrument of better days

PREFACE. IX
" than they have seen of late, he having a firm
" resolution (which he manifested to some ether
"persons) te walk new ways, but upon old
" grounds and maxims, both of religion and policy,
"finding his own judgment to have been misled
"by errors of truth and persuasions of persons
" he began better to know ; so as knowing
"otherwise the nobleness of his nature, and
"great parts and vigour, Dorchester had fuU
" satisfaction in him himself, and made no doubt
" but the world would have, notwithstanding the
" public hatred to which he was exposed. This
"testimony Dorchester ewes him after his death."'
Of the restoration ef the Navy by the strenuous
effiarts of the Duke the State Papers present
almost a chronicle. The authoress regrets that she
is not competent to do the subject justice ; and
hopes that some abler hand may employ with
mere eff'ect the copious materials which will be
found in those documents, of which she has
touched merely on the leading points. Her aim
has been chiefly to shew the energy, the some
time lofty purposes, of one who has been por
trayed as a merely rapacious, vain, remorseless
oppressor. The state of the times, the Impeachment, the
¦ Calendar, edited by Mr. Bruce, for 1628, 1629,
p. 270.

X PREFACE.
Remonstrance, the Petition of Right, all bear so
strongly on the circumstances of the Duke's life,
that it would be impossible, in a Memoir of him,
to escape the difficult office of explaining to some
extent the intricate politics of the day. In this
attempt she also has derived her chief mate
rials from the State Papers. Personal incidents,
trusts, manners, character, literature, the arts, are
subjects in regard te which the annals ef this
period are calculated to afford a great amount
of instruction and interest.
The authoress has already expressed her obli
gations to Mr. Lechmere and Mr. Lemon ; to Mr.
Bruce she also begs to offer her thanks fer a sugges
tion by which she is enabled to insert an interest
ing account of the murder ef Buckingham, in a
letter from Lord Dorchester. (See page 112,
vol. iii.)
She begs also to express her sense of the
valuable aid afforded her by her friend, Mr.
Amos, Professor of Law, Downing College, Cam
bridge, to whose kindness and great historical
knowledge she is indebted for much that has
facilitated her eff'orts.
March 1, 1860.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

"Chapter i.
State of England on the Accession of James I. compared with
that when Elizabeth began to Eeign — The Great Rebellion
Attributable to the Misrule of James — Allusion of Lord
Clarendon to this Subject — The Luxury of a Favourite
Essential to James since the Age of Fourteen — Birth and
Origin of George Villiers — His Family little known to Fame
until his Elevation — The Sneers thrown upon it by Sir
Symonds D'Ewes ; and its Claims to Honourable Descent
Considered — Sir Henry Wotton's Testimony — The Family
of Villiers long known in the County of Leicester — The
Different Spellings of the Name — The Fortunes of the
Family in France — Remark of Lord Clarendon upon the
Condition of the Villiers Family in England — Also of the
Historian Sanderson — Brookesby, the Native Place of George
ViUiers — His Mother, Mary Beaumont — Her Menial Con
dition in the Family of Sir George Villiers — His Marriage- —
The Family by a Former Union — Sir William Villiers —
John, Viscount Purbeck — The Children of the Second
Marriage : Mary, Countess of Denbigh — Christopher,

xu CONTENTS.
George — Lady Villiers retires to Goa,dby — Her Efforts for her
Son's Benefit — His Education, Disposition, and Acquire
ments — The Slender Means of his Mother — Her Second
Marriage to Sir Thomas Compton — George Villiers sent to
Paris to complete his Education — State of that Capital in
the 17th Century — Villiers returns firom Paris, improved,
and repairs to his Mother's House at Goadby . . 1
CHAPTER II.
James I., his Disapproval of the Gentry crowding into
Loudon — Disgust Entertained by the Old Families to him
and his Court — The Clintons, Blounts, Veres, and WU
loughby D'Eresbys show it — Character of Sir Thomas
Lake — William, Earl of Pembroke, the Early Patron of
Villiers — Account of the First Introduction of Villiers to
/james — Ambitious Views which it Suggested — His Attach
ment to the Daughter of Sir Roger Ashton — Their Engage
ment Broken off — Account of the King's Visit to Cam
bridge in 1614-15 — Some Description of the Courtly Ladies
who were present there — The Queen's Absence— Countess of
Arundel — Countess of Somerset — Countess of Salisbury —
Lady Howard of Walden— Performance of the Play of
" Ignoramus" in Clare Hall — The Design of this Comedy to
Ridicule the Common Law — Admiration expressed by the
King, during the Performance, of the Personal Appearance
of ViUiers, who was Present — The Subsequent Representa
tions referred to  33
chapter m.
The Fascination of ViUiers's Character as opposed to the
Venality of Somerset — Lord Clarendon's Opinion —
The Friendship of Archbishop Abbot — Character of
the Primate — His Affection for Villiers — Anecdote of

CONTENTS. Xlll
VUliers when Cup-Bearer. He is befriended by Anne
of Denmark — ^By her means Knighted — Singular Scene
in the Queen's Chamber — Jealousy of Somerset — In
gratitude afterwards shewn by Villiers to Abbot — Abbot
commits Manslaughter — Is pardoned by the King — ^The In
cessant Pleasures of the Court — Horse-Racing — Ben
Jonson's " Golden Age Restored " — Allusion in it to Somer
set, and to Overbury — An Angry Interview between Vil
liers and Somerset — ^Villiers supplants the Favourite — He
uses no Unfair Means to do so — Discovery of Somerset's
GuUt by Winwood, who finds Proofs of it in an Old Trunk
— Somerset's Downfall ^Bacon's Letter to Villiers —
VUliers continues to Profit by the Delinquencies and Dis- >
grace of Somerset  71
CHAPTER IV.
The King's Projects — A Joumey to Scotland — Obstacles to
that Intention— Want of Money— £100,000 raised in the
City — Dislike of the People to this Journey, on Account of
Expense — James sets out, March 13th, 1616-1617 — His
Attendant Courtiers, Sir John Zouch, Sir George Goring,
Sir John Finett — Characteristics of Each — Surpassing
Qualities of Buckingham — Objects of James's Journey to
Edinburgh — Anecdote of Lord Howard of Walden — Dispu
tations at St. Andrews — The King knights many of the
Young Courtiers — Offence given at Edinburgh hy Laud —
A Project to assassinate Buckingham Suspected — James's
Progress Concluded — His Visit to Warwick — Affairs re
lating to Sir Edward Coke and his Family — Base Conduct
of all the Parties Concerned — Meanness of Bacon — His
Letters — Frances Hatton — Contrast between her and the
Earl of Oxford brought forward by Lady Hatton; — Coke
restored to Favour — Marriage of Frances. Hatton. to .Lord
Purbeck  139

XIV CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
Buckingham's Favour Paramount — Change iu the King's
Temper — His Poetic Flights — His Reign a Course of Dissi
pation — The Masques of Ben Jonson — Their Great
Beauty — Patronized by the Queen — How Performed — The
Vision of Delight — Composed to Celebrate Buckingham's
being made a Marquis — His Appearance at this Era — The
Banquet given for this Occasion — Great Extravagance
/ of the Entertainment — Rivals to Buckingham in James's
Favour — Sir Henry Mildmay — Brooke — Young Morrison —
The Diversions of the Court — The Meteor that appeared —
'*' Foot-Eacing — Buckingham's Profusion — Jealousies between
Prince Charles and him  189
CHAPTER VI.
Eeview of the State of Political Affairs — Dissolution of Par
liament — Protest — James tears it out of the Joumals of the
House of Commons — Acts of Oppression— Case of the Earl
of Oxford — of Lord Southampton— Persecution of Sir
/ Edward Coke — The Conduct and Impeachment of Lord
Bacon — The Part taken by Buckingham in this Affair — The
Abuses of Monopolies — Case of Sir GUes Mompesson — Of
Sir Francis Michell — Bacon's Letters to Parliament — His
Illness — The Great Seal taken from Him — James's Reluc
tance to act with Vigour — Sheds Tears upon the Occasion —
Bacon still protected by Buckingham — Williams, Bishop of
Lincoln, is made Chancellor — His Character, by Bishop
Goodman  275
CHAPTER vn.
The Spanish Treaty — Negotiations between the Duke of
Lerma and Lord Digby — The Infanta described by Lord
Digby — Her Great Beauty, Piety, and Sweetness — The

CONTENTS. XV
Description of her by Toby Matthew — She is disposed to
receive Charles's Addresses — Gondomar — Attentions shown
to him in England — Ely House allotted for his Reception —
Jealousy of the Protestants at the Favour shown him —
First Notion of Charles's Journey to Spain suggested by
Buckingham — His Arguments in Favour of it — Obstacles to
the Prince's Marriage with the Infanta — Buckingham's /
Debts and Difficulties — Interview between Gondomar and
the Duke of Lennox — Journey of Charles and Buckingham
into Spain — They stop in Paris — Louis XUI. — Anne of
Austria — Henrietta Maria — They proceed to Madrid — Ee
ception there — Entrance in State into that City — Countess
of Philip IV. — Festivities in Honour of the Prince — The
King's Letters to him  315

CHAPTER I.

STATE OF ENGLAND ON THE ACCESSION OF JAMES I.
COMPAKED WITH THAT WHEN EUZABETH BEGAN TO
REIGN  THE GREAT REBELLION ATTRIBUTABLE TO
THE MISRULE OP JAMES  ALLUSION OF LORD CLA
RENDON TO THIS SUBJECT — THE LUXURY OF A
FAVOURITE ESSENTIAL TO JAMES SINCE THE AGE OF
FOURTEEN— BIRTH AND ORIGIN OF GEORGE VILLIERS
 HIS FAMILY LITTLE KNOWN TO EAME UNTIL HIS
ELEVATION — THE SNEERS THROWN UPON IT BY SIE
SYMONDS d'eWES ; AND ITS CLAIMS TO HONOUR
ABLE DESCENT CONSIDERED — SIE HENEY WOTTON'S
TESTIMONY  THE FAMILY OF VILLIERS LONG KNOWN"
IN THE COUNTY OF LEICESTER  THE DIFFERENT
SPELLINGS OF THE NAME  THE FORTUNES OF THE
FAMILY IN FEANCE  REMARK OF LOED CLARENDON
UPON THE CONDITION OF THE VILLIERS FAMILY IN
BNGLAND^ALSO OF THE HISTORIAN SANDERSON  '
BEOKESBY, THE NATIVE PLACE OF GEORGE VILLIERS
— HIS MOTHER, MARY BEAUMONT  HER MENIAL
CONDITION IN THE FAMILY OF SIR GBOEGE VILLIERS
 HIS MARRIAGE  THE FAMILY BY A FORMER UNION
• — ^SIE WILLIAM VILLIEES  JOHN, VISCOUNT PURBECK
 THE CHILDEEN OP THE SECOND MAEEIAGE : MAEY,
COUNTESS OF DENBIGH, CHRISTOPHER, GBOEGE 
LADY VILLIEES RETIRES TO GOADBY  HER EFFORTS
FOR HER son's BENEFIT  HIS EDUCATION, DISPOSI
TION, AND ACQUIREMENTS  THE SLENDER MEANS OP
HIS MOTHER  HER SECOND MARRIAGE, TO SIE
THOMAS COMPTON  GEORGE VILLIERS SENT TO PAEIS
TO COMPLETE HIS EDUCATION  STATE OF THAT CAPI
TAL IN THE 17tll CENTUEY  VILLIEES EETURNS
FEOM PAEIS, IMPEOVED, AND EEPAIES TO HIS
mother's HOUSE AT GOADBY.
VOL. I. B

LIFE AND TIMES OP

GEORGE VILLIERS,

CHAPTER I.
The historians who attribute the calamities of the
Great Rebellion to the misrule of James the First,
under the pernicious influence of his favourites,
draw a lively parallel between the condition of
England at the accession of that monarch and
the state of peril and embarrassment with which
his great predecessor had te contend. Elizabeth,
whese inauguration, long celebrated, after her
death, as a day of jubilee, was regarded as the
commencement of national prosperity, came to
the throne under very adverse circumstances.
The functions of Grovernment were clogged with
debt. The miserable state of the navy required
b2

4 LIFE AND TIMES OF
a constant vigilance to repel the chance ef inva
sion, and to drive away pirates by whom the
narrow seas were infested. The revenues of the
Crown were insufficient to maintain its power and
dignity ; the country, moreover, was embroiled in
religious dissensions ; whilst the authority of the
Queen was lessened by a disputed succession, and
her mind harassed and embittered by the preten
sions of the Dauphin ef France to the Crown of
England, in right of his wife, Mary Stuart.
James, on the contrary, began his reign with
every exterior advantage. His claim to the
sovereignty was undoubted; and various causes
had concurred to give great influence to the
Crown. The subservient tributes of respect paid
to its digr^ity were such as even te astonish the
envoys of despotic France. Elizabeth had been
served and addressed by her subjects on the knee;
James, at all events for a time, continued that
abject custom, which was a type of the prevailing
national sentiment towards royalty. Commerce,
in spite of monopolies, and of the injudicious
interference of the Legislature with wages, was
advancing ; leases granted ef large tracts of land
had increased the opulence of the country; the
improved prospects of the landholders acted on
the prosperity of the manufacturing classes :
whilst the general welfare was increased by

GEOEGE VILLIEES. O
emigration; the religious persecutions on the
Continent, driving from foreign towns ingenious
workmen, sent them into England, where they
introduced arts hitherto unknown in this country.
The Constitution, too, had been maintained ; and,
with the exception ofthe court ofthe Star Chamber,
over which James presided in person, the prin
ciples of liberty had not been materially invaded.
There was no standing army; the tenets ef Pro
testantism were established ; and the Presbyterian
education of the King afforded a hope that certain
traces of the faith which had been renounced
would die away, and that ceremonials which were
objectionable to many would be speedily discon
tinued. Thus, the first of the Stuart Kings
enjoyed blessings not possessed by any of his
predecessors ; and, ascending the throne, opened
a new era in the history of the country.^
James, nevertheless, was not long in showing
how fallacious were all expectations founded on
his good sense, and on the supposed liberal views
which a people, now intelligent and prosperous,
fondly anticipated in their ruler. Educated by
Buchanan as if he had been destined for the
Tutor of a CoUege rather than for a King ; his
memory crammed ; his capacity clogged with Ill-
digested learning ; prejudiced as a Scotchman, yet
• Brodie's Constitutional History, vol. i., p. 337.

G LIFE AND TIMES OF
prejudiced against the established church of his
native country, James well merited the sneering
appeUation of Henry IV. of France, who caUed
him " Captain of Wits and Clerk of Arms," ^
and proved, too lamentably, how easy it is
by wrong-headedness to embroil and debase a
countiy. The blunders which James committed in his
civU govemment began before the subject of this
memoir was introduced to royal notice ; yet,
since George VUliers, first Duke of Buckingham,
figured prominently in that period which is sup
posed to have been the commencement of decay,
the origin of the Great RebeUion has been
attributed to his maladministration, nor has the
grave responsibiUty been absolutely disavowed,
even by Lord Clarendon, the apologist and admi
rer of the Duke of Buckingham.
" I am not," writes Lord Clarendon, " so sharp-
sighted as those who have discerned the RebeUion
contriving from (if not before) the death of
Queen Elizabeth, and fomented by several Princes
and great Ministers ef State in Christendom to
the time it broke out ; neither do I look back so
far, because I believe the design to have been so
long since formed, but that, by viewing the tem
pers, dispositions, and habits at that time of the
' Sully's Memoirs, vol. i., p. 309.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 7
Court and country, we may discern the minds of
men prepared, of some to act, and of others to
suffer all that has since happened." ^
Whatsoever may have been the faults of James
the First, it is probable that they would not
essentially have affected the weU-being of his son,
had not the system of favouritism, which was one
of James's greatest weaknesses, acted upon the
character of the young Prince, whose earliest
associations were stamped with devotion to Buck
ingham. At once minister, minion, and master,
the power behind the throne, te whose dictation,
during the years of his brief and bright career,
even the High Court of Parliament submitted —
the distinction of being the last royal favourite
in England is due to this ill-fated man. By him
the " sluice of honour," as an old writer expresses
it, " was opened and closed at pleasure." He was
to King James a sert of " Parhelion," ^ at whose
course foreign Courts wondered, whUst the sa
gacious and prophetic at home trembled as they
beheld at once its eccentricity and its splendour.
At his death the experiment, which had been
tried once too often, was abandoned, never to
be renewed; and no acknowledged succes
sor in the meteoric career of Buckingham ever
' History of the RebeUion.
* Bishop Hacket's Life of the Lord Keeper WOliama,
p. 39.

8 LIFE AND TIMES OF
appeared before the dazzled gaze of our country
men. The minutest circumstances relative to
his origin are interesting, not only as they
concern one whose noble bearing and powers of
fascination almost effaced, during his life, the
remembrance of his errors, but as they unfold the
foundation of a great family which still influ
ences our national councils.
Until the elevation of George ViUiers from low
estate to an unparalleled career of success, the
race frem which he sprang, though ancient and
honourable, was but partially known to fame, and
his ancestors, how valiant and loyal soever they
had proved, had held the tenor of their way with
little variation, and with only an occasional gleam
of celebrity on one or other of its lineage ; a
course of moderate prosperity maintaining, with
out altering, its condition — rather, as Sir Henry
Wotton has well expressed it, " without obscurity
than with any great lustre." ^ "I wiU, however,"
adds the same quaint writer, after referring to the
difficulty of making a proper estimate of aU public
characters, " show, therefore, as evenly as I can,
and deduce him frem his cradle through the deep
and lubrick waves of State and Court tiU he be
swallowed in the Gulf of Fatality."^
» Reliquise Wottonianse. Life of Geo. Villiers, Duke of
Buckingham, p. 208.
» ReUquise Wottonianse.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 9
It was the fashion of those who were opposed
to the Duke of Buckingham in his political career
to speak with contempt of his origin, and thus
attack one who was endowed with every possible
advantage of natural gifts — and upon whom
honours were lavished — on what was erroneously
supposed to be his vulnerable point. Sir Symonds
D'Ewes, as might be expected, was not backward
in his strictures against a courtier so favoured
and envied. He compares Villiers, indeed, to a
man of the highest rank, but draws the parallel
in these offensive terms : — " He was likest to Henry
Loraine, Duke of Guise, in the most of the later
passages of his life and death, that possible could
be, onelie in this they differed, that Guise was
a prince born, but Buckingham was but a younger
son of an ordinarie familie of gentrie, of which the
coat armoure was so meane as either in this age
or of late years, without any ground, right, or
authoritie, that I could see, they deferred their
owne coate armoure, and bare the arms of Wey-
land, a Suffolke family, being argent on a cross
gules, five escalops, &c."'' And again, when
speaking of Felton, the assassin of the Duke, Sir
Simond cannot forbear remarking : — " His familie
was, doubtless, more noble and ancient than the
' Quoted in Nichols's History of Leicestershire, vol. iii.,
p. 189.

10 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Duke of Buckingham's, and his ende much
blesseder."* To similar strictures does Wotton
probably refer, when he remarks that, in " a
wUde pamphlet" published about the Duke of
Buckingham, the writers, "beside other pityfule
malignities, would scant allow him to be a gentle
man." It is far easier to make a charge of this nature
than to maintain it, for the famUy ef VilUers had
long been knovsm in the County of Leicester,
where it removed from Kinalton, in Nottingham
shire, the first place of migration from Normandy;
where, writes Sir Henry Wotton, " it had been
long seated." It does not appear that Leicester
shire was the only place of residence which the
ancestors of George VilUers possessed ; as the
same authority expresses it, they " chiefly con
tinued " in that county for the space of four hun
dred years before the birth of the first Duke of
Buckingham ; ^ a time long enough, one might
suppose, to satisfy a reasonable genealogist.
The name of VUliers, conformably to the arbi
trary speUing of ancient times, was written diffe
rently, sometimes VUUers, at others VUlers,
ViUeres, and Vyleres; nor did those who bore
this famous surname finally adopt the speUing
" Villiers " untU the reign of James I.
' Nichol's History of Leicestershire.
» ReUquia Wottonianse, p. 208.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 1 1
The founder of the family, Philip de ViUers, of
Lisle Adam, was a Norman Seigneur; he was
also Grand Master of the Island of Rhodes, and
signalized himself in the defence of that island
against the Turks. After the conquest, certain
lands in Leicestershire were granted by WiUiam
the Conqueror to a Norman Knight bearing
the appellation De Villers; but another branch
of the same race remained in France, and its
various members have been distinguished in
courts, in arms, and as legislators. Argiver
de VUlers was sewer '" to PhiHp the First ;
Pierre de VUlers held the office of Grand Master
in his native country, under Charles the Sixth.''
Invention was therefore not requisite to dignify
the long unbroken line of respectable progenitors
to whom George ViUiers owed his origin.
" Heraldry," remarks a certain writer, when
referring te this celebrated man, "might blazon
as large fields of his pedigree as might concern
any subject to prove." '^ Without bringing that
assertion to the test, it is sufficient to add that
successive generations flourished and passed away,
sometimes emerging from their seclusion to foUew
'° FuHer's Worthies of Leicestershire.
" Sanderson's Lives of Mary, Queen of Scots, and her
Son, p. 467.
'2 An officer appointed to serve up a feast.

12 LIFE AND TIMES OF
the reigning monarch to the wars, as in the
instances of Sir Alexander de VUlers, and Sir
Nicholas his son, the former assisting Edward the
First in the Crusades, and adding to his name the
designation of "Brokesby;" and the latter, after
sundry exploits in the Holy Land, augmenting
his armorial bearings by the Cross of St. George
and five escalop shells, ancient badges of the
Crusaders ; so that the " coat armour," esteemed
so mean by Sir Symonds D'Ewes, and said to
have been borrowed, was not without its dis
tinctions, even at an early period.
But it is singular that from a personage of
lowly fortunes, if not of humble family, sprang
the generation which was so noted in its time.
At Brokesby, the manorial residence of the
race, there had dwelt, for several centuries, suc
cessive proprietors, little remarkable, since the time
of the valiant Crusaders, either for their career in
arms, or for their ambition to rise in the State. A
stream, dignified by the name of the River Wreke,
fiows near the house, which is said to have been
the residence ef the VUliers family ; a gentleman's
seat, a plain and somewhat Insignificant building,
having a central division, and two projecting
wings, now owns the name of Brokesby.'^
" It is situated nine miles from Leicester, and six from
Melton Mowbray.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 13
The town of Brokesby has, of late years, been
returned as a decayed town ; but its church is
worthy of note In a county which, as Fuller
remarks, " affordeth ne cathedrals, and as fer the
parish churches, they may take the eye, but not
ravish the admiration of the beholder." This
structure, dedicated to St. Michael, boasts a hand
some tower, above which rises a small spire, well
crocheted; the battlements of the tower are re
markably beautiful, being open worked, and em
beUished with a row of shields, of which the
most conspicuous is that of George VUliers, first
Duke ef Buckingham, and of his Duchess, and on
it there Is an honorary augmentation, showing
the descent which he claimed from the blood
royal of Edward the Fourth.'* It seems as if,
amid the decay which surrounds it, this church
has remained as a witness of the former greatness of
that now extinct branch of the VUliers family,
whose glories emblazon its battlements and win
dows. The direct Une of the favourite of James
the First ceased in two generations after his proud
and brief career.
From the retirement of Brokesby, one ef its
owners was summoned, during a royal progress,
te the presence of Queen Elizabeth. This was
Sir George VUliers, the father of the Duke of
" Nichols's Histoiy of Leicestershire, vol. iii., p. 189.

14 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Buckingham, who was consequently knighted,
when High . Sheriff for Leicestershire, " by the
Queen. Sir George married the daughter of
William Sanders, of Harrington, in the County of
Northampton, and had by that marriage two sons,
WUliam, who inherited Brokesby and became a
baronet; and Edward, afterwards President of
Munster, and the ancestor of the present Earl of
Jersey. Three daughters were also the issue of this
marriage ; Elizabeth, who married Lord Butler,
of Bramfield ; Anne, who married WUliam Wash
ington, of Pakingten, County ef Leicester ; and
Frances, unmarried.'^ Their mother died, and
Sir George, perhaps imprudently, for his estate
was not considerable, formed a second union.
Some circumstances rendered this step, indeed,
peculiarly indiscreet ; and nothing could account
for so rash an act in a man of grave years, but an
infatuation produced by extraordinary personal
gifts, and probably by some abUIty and manage
ment on the part of his second wife.
It is evident that the Knight had never 'con
templated the probabUity ef such an event, for
he settled the greater portion of his estates
'5 In 1591. Nichols's History of Leicestershire.
>» CoUins's Peerage. Edited by Sir Egerton Brydges.
Art., Jersey.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 15
upon his first wife and her children ; and a mere
pittance remained for the issue of any second
marriage. Yet, in spite of these considerations, ,
Sir George ViUiers was captivated by a handsome
person, the attractions of which appear not to
have been wholly lost upon him even during the
lifetime of the first Lady VUliers.
It happened that among the inferior servants
of his household, there lived a young woman,
named Mary Beaumont, the indigent member of
an ancient famUy," by some asserted to have
been that of the Beaumonts of Cole-Orton, in
Leicestershire, by others, to have been settled at
Glenfield, in the same county.
The occupation of Mary Beaumont is stated to
have been that of a " kitchen-maid " in the house
of Sir George Villiers, but this assertion may
possibly be traced to the desire of a certain
class of writers to debase as much as possible
the famUy of ViUiers.
That she was, however, in a menial capacity of
some kind, appears from common report to have
been understood.'^ " Her ragged habit," observes
" Roger Coke's Detection of the Court of James I., vol.
i., p. 81. See, also, note in the Secret History of the
Court of King James I., vol. i., p. 444, edited by Sir
Walter Scott.
'8 Sir Anthony Weldon, speaking of the Duke of Bucking-

16 LIFE AND TIMES OP
a contemporary historiauj "could not shade the
beautiful and exceUent frame of her person, which
Sir George, taking notice of, prevailed with his
lady te remove her out of the kitchen into her
chamber, which, with much Importunity on Sir
George's part, and unwillingness of my lady, at
last was done."
After the death ef his wife, the sentiments of
the widower were expressed without reserve. He
was observed " to look very sweet upon my lady's
woman;" he was known to bestow upon her twenty
pounds, to purchase as good a dress as that sum
would procure ; and when he saw her attired In
a manner suitable to her age and loveUness, he
was transported with admiration. The result
may easily be conceived ; the knight married the
serving-maid, and as ambitious a spirit as ever
stimulated the energies of woman thus received
its first gratification. Endowed by natm-e with
such profuse outward gifts, Mary Beaumont pos
sessed, no less, the advantages of a shrewd sense ;
she was fond, as her subsequent career showed, of
state and profusion ; she became, from her influ-
ham, observes, that his " father was of an ancient family,
his mother of a mean, and a waiting gentlewoman, with
whom the old man (Sir George Villiers) fell in love."
Secret History, vol. i., p. 442, edited by Sir Walter
Scott.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 17
ence and her attractions, the leader ef the highest
circles ; whilst she retained over the mind of her
son that sway which she deservedly acquired by
her care of his infancy and chUdhood.
In after times, it is curious to find Mary Beau
mont, then Lady ViUiers Compton, Inviting her
country kindred to Court, and providing a place
fer them to leam to carry themselves in a "Court-
like manner." It was the lowly serving-maid who
first introduced what were caUed Country Dances
instead ef French dances, which her provincial
relations could not learn soon enough for their
deportment to assimUate with the costly garments
with which their prodigal kinswoman supplied
them, In order that they might do her credit' in
the gay' spheres to which they were Introduced.'^
Three sons and a daughter were the off
spring of this marriage; the eldest, John,
afterwards created Baron VUliers, of Stoke, and
Viscount Purbeek, was singularly infeUcItous
in his domestic life, but is said, by an historian
adverse to the famUy, to have " exceeded them aU
in wit and honesty, and, by his influence, to have
kept his brother George in some bounds of mo
desty, whUst he Uved with him, by speaking
plain EngUsh to him." 2"
" Secret History, vol. i., edited by Sir Walter Scott.
=» Nichols's Progresses of James I., vol. iv., p. 688.
VOL. I. C

18 LIFE AND TIMES OF
The next chUd of the second marriage was
George ViUiers, who was bom at Brookesby, on
the 20th of August in the year 1592.^' Another
son, Christopher, became eventuaUy Baron Daven
try, and Earl of Anglesea ; a daughter, Mary, after
wards Countess of Denbigh, was also born, te en
cumber, as it seemed, the Umited means with which
the parents of this younger race were scarcely able
to endow them.
On the fourth of January, 1505-6, Sir George
ViUiers died. His landed property consisted at
that time of the Manors of Brookesby, Howby,
Godby Marward, and the Grange of Goadby.
These were aU settled on the chUdren of his first
marriage. He was also lay improprietor of the
tithes of herbage and hay, in the parishes of
CadeweU and Wikeham, and these, he settled on the
three sons of Mary Beaumont, John, George and
Christopher f' his daughter appears to have been
left wholly portionless. When it is remembered
that this famUy were aU raised to rank and opu
lence, and that they were, in various instances, the
sources frem which the ance.' try of several great
houses is derived, the eariy privation and difficul-
=i' FuUer styles him the seooriTi son of his mother, and the
fourth of his father. — Fuller's Worthies of Leicester
shire. ^ Nichols's Hist, of Leicestershire, p. 189.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 19
ties ot their career form a strong contrast to their
subsequent elevation.
It was not alone poverty that seemed likely to
keep the younger chUdren of Sir George Villiers
in obscurity; there were wanting in his father's
heir those quaUties which bring the humble
forward, and enrich more than even prudence and
frugaUty. Sir WiUiam, who now took possession
of Brookesby, was contented with his country
lot ; and so much did he despise honours and
titles, that when he was created a Baronet in
1619,^ the dignity was almost forced upen him.
" He was," says a contemporary author, " so care
less of honour in courting that compUment, as that
the King (James First) said, ' Sir WUliam would
scarce give him thanks for it, and doubted whether
he would accept of it.' " Thus, Uttle assistance in
the career of life ceuld be expected from one who
would scarcely deem the prizes most sought for
by men, worth the trouble of a Uttle personal
exertion. Upon the death of her husband. Lady ViUiers
retired te Godby Marward, which was appro
priated te her as a dower house. Her son,
» This title, the 109th baronetcy, ceased in 1711, when
the elder branch of the Villiers family became extinct by
the death of the third Baronet, Sir William, without issue.
C 2

20 LIFE AND TIMES OF
George, was then ten years old ; the loss which
he had sustained in the death of his father, great
as it seemed, was fully compensated by the care
of her whom Sir Henry Wotton entitles "his
beautiful and provident mother." The promis
ing boy had already received some education at
BUlesdon, In Leicestershire, where he was sent
to school, and instructed in music and in some
"sUght hterature;" but to no coinmon hands
would Lady V^Uliers, as the dawning personal
charms of her son unfolded, entrust the culture of
this, her favomite chUd ; she had him, henceforth,
as his biographer expresses it, "in her especial
care." ^'' Possibly, in her widowed seclusion, when
she looked upon the face which afterwards capti
vated all beholders, she anticipated the day
when her son should appear at Court, and
attract some marks of that royal faveur which
had been shevm te Leicester, to Raleigh, and to
Essex for no better reason than that they were
handsomer and more graceful than their compeers,
and that their manly beauty was set off by the
gallant bearing of weU-tralned " carpet knights."
Queen Elizabeth had taught her subjects to value
those attributes which had sunk so low in fashion
and estimation in the troublous reign ef Mary,
" Reliquisd Wottonianse.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 21
or during the short and saintly career of
Edward. Lady ViUiers had the discernment to perceive
the deficiencies of her son's mind and character,
and resolved to avail herself ef those advantages
wdth which he was endowed, without forcing his
attention to pursuits that were ungenial to him.
She soon discovered that he was neither inclined
to reflection, ner disposed to study; nor did he
ever alter in those respects, but continued, through
life, UUterate, a defect which his readiness in
some measm'c supplied, but which prevented
his becoming a great statesman, in spite ofthe fairest
opportunities that ever man enjoyed. In after Ufe
he learned, when at Court, " to sift and question
weU," ^' and to supply his own shaUow stock of in
formation by " dravnng or flowing unto him " the
best sources of experience and knowledge In others.
His manner, says Sir Henry Wotton, was so
sweet and attractive, " In seeking what might be
fer the pubUc or his own proper use, that if
the Muses favoured him not, the Graces were
his friends;" and Lord Clarendon remarks of
ViUiers, that "concerning the traits and en
dowments of his mind, if the consideration of
learning extend itself not fiirther than drudgery
'^ ReUquise Wottonianse.

22 LIFE AND TIMES OF
in books, the Duke's employment forbids us to
suspect him of bemg any great scholar; but if a
nimble and fluent expression and delivery of his
mind (and his discourse was ef aU subjects) in a
natural and proper dialect be considered, he was
well lettered." ^^
Lady ViUiers seems both tohaveforeseen aU these
defects, and to have prognosticated the atoning
graces In her son. She acted as a needy and
ambitious woman was likely to act. Instead of
supplying the deficiencies of her son's character
and inteUect by a sound education, she directed
his attention te dancing, fencing, and the other
exercises, styled by Lord Clarendon " the con
servative qualities and ornaments of youth. ^'
And in these pursuits so rapid a progress was
made, that the tutors of all the three brothers
were obliged te restrain the progress of George
VUUers in erder that their other pupUs should not
be disheartened by his 'proficiency.. Meantime,
his expanding beauty of form and face seemed to his
proud mother to render her son worthy of a higher
cidture than that which she could bestow upon him
at Godby. Her jointure was very smaU, and al-
'« Disparity between Robert Davereux, Earl of Essex,
and the Duke of BucHngham, by Lord Clarendon.
" ftid. Ri,! lavage Wo ft o [J I (v*/

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 23
though Godby, where she resided, was a suitable
abode for the vndow of Sir George VUUers, the
Manor House being large enough to receive James
the First and his retinue during a royal progress, yet
her poverty obUged her to live in great retirement.
A rigid economy must have been necessary to
regulate its household. Lady VUUers had only
two hundred a-year, both fer herself and her family,
and that income was te cease at her death, when
her orphan children would have but a pittance
besides their beauty and their talents.^* ImpeUed,
as it Is hinted by several historians, by a desire to
benefit her children, the widowed lady, stIU young
and fair, resolved to marry again. Sir Thomas
Marquin was first the object of her choice, and
after his death, she bestowed her hand upon Sir
Thomas Compton, Knight of the Bath, and
brother of Lord Compton, First Earl of North
ampton, whose marriage mth the daughter of Sir
John Spencer, Lord Mayor of London, and com
monly caUed "rich Spencer," had brought an
increase of honour and influence te his famUy.
This union was the more important to Lady
VlUIers and her children, because their half-
brothers and sisters looked upon them with ne
good wUl, and were Uttle disposed to farther their
interests. " Coke's Detection, p. 81.

24 LIFE AND TIMES OF
It was at that time the custom to send our
young nobUlty, and even their inferiors, to France
to complete their education. Lady VilUers
resolved to afford her son George this advantage.
She selected him from her other children partly
from partiality, for It is expressly stated that " he
who was debarred from his father's estate was
happy in his mother's love;"^^ and partly on
account of his singular beauty of person. He is
said, indeed, to have had, when he reached man's
estate, "no blemish from head to foot," save that his
eyebrows are stated to have been somewhat over pen
dulous, a defect which some ef his admirers thought
to be redeemed by the uncommon briUIancy of the
eyes which flashed beneath them.^" The Earl of
Essex, to whom ViUiers is compared, was taller,
and of an " abler body " than the favourite of
James I. But ViUiers had the " neater limbs and
freer delivery, he carried his weU-propertloned body
weU, and every movement was graceful." Ner does
Lord Clarendon, who thus describes him, think it
beneath the dignity of his subject to remark that
Villiers, " exceeded in the daintiness of his leg and
foot," whilst Essex was celebrated for his hands,
which, says his panegyrist, though it be but feminine
'» Reliquiae Wottonianse.
» Fuller's AVorthies of Leicestershire.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 25
praise, "he took from his father."^' The complexion
of George ViUiers was singularly clear and beauti
ful, his forehead high and smooth, his eyes dark and
faU of intelUgence and sweetness, whilst the perfect
oval of his face, and deUcate turn of features, fine,
yet noble, and the air of refinement which charac
terised both his countenance and his bearing,
rendered him one of the most attractive of human
beings. As he attained to maturity, a peculiar
courtesy of manner, a frankness and merriment
which diverged at times into a total forgetfulness
of forms, a power of throwing off the appearance
of aU oppressing business and secret cares, although
of these he had his share, and of assuming "a very
pleasant and vacant face," a love of social life, and
certain traits of character, half foUy, half romance,
won upon everyone that approached him before
prosperity had changed courtesy into arrogance, or
poUtical intrigues marred the open expression of a
physiognomy en which none could look without
admiration. The youth, whose promise, even at a very early
age, augured the results which I have anticipated,
reached Paris after the death of Henry IV.^^
It was probably in the autumn that ViUiers re
'i Reliquise Wottonianse, 171.
'» Henry IV. was stabbed by RavaUlac on the 14th of
May, 1610.

26 LIFE AND TIMES OF
paired to the Continent, since it is expressly stated
that he was eighteen when he undertook that
joumey, and he had not attained that age until
August, 1610. It seems, therefore, Ukely that
VilUers beheld France under a strange aspect, that
of a universal state ef despair. Protestants and
Catholics were aUke overwhelmed by the recent
calamity ; the former might weU dread a fresh mas
sacre, but the grief of their Reman CathoUc feUow-
countrymen dispelled that apprehension. The ex
cess ef lamentation, expressed somewhat theatrlcaUy
— the cries of widows and orphans in the streets —
the sight of women rushing through the mourners at
the funeral, screaming — the orations, interrupted by
sobs, in which the virtues ef the deceased monarch
were panegyrized — these must have ceased before
VUliers visited Paris; but the Huguenots still
sheltered themselves in the Arsenal, where the
great Sully mourned his royal master and friend.''
In Paris, VilUers remained three years, prose-
" The women, in some instances, refused to take food, by
way of shewing their grief for the murder of Henry,
and even the men gave way to despondency. "Plu
sieurs des meOleurs citoyens de la viUe,'' says LaoreteUe;
" se sont sentis frappes du coup de la mort, en apprenant
cette nouvelle; d'autres, qui expirent plus lentement, se
plaignent de survivre trop long tems a oe bon roi." — Lacre-
teUe "Histoire de France," pendant les Guerres de Religion,
to me iv., p. 385.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 27
cuting his studies, which consisted of French,
and the practice of poUte and martial exercises.
His education tended, indeed, to Increase his fail
ings, to heighten his taste for display and love of
pleasure, and to weaken his reasoning faculties. He
had, according to the acknowledgment of his great
partisan. Sir Henry Wotton, " Uttle gramma
tical foundation ; " and French appears to have
been the only foreign language that he ever acquir
ed ; nevertheless, it Is remarkable what appUcation
to business he evinced duiing the last few years of
his Ufe ; his punctuality in correspondence, and the
clear and simple style of his letters, prove how easily
his mind might havebeen trained to higher pursuits
than those on which his mother, worldly, but not
wise, based her expectations of his future fortunes.
Paris, which VUUers was destined twice te re
visit under circumstances very dissImUar to those
ef his first residence there, was then the resort of
foreigners. The youth, who had emerged frem
the quiet haunts ef Goadby Grange, took his
first lessons in life in the city which HoweU, in
his famUiar letters, styles, the " huge magazine of
men." " Its buUdings," says that writer, " were
Indifferently fair ; its streets as foul during aU the
four seasons ef the year ; a perpetual current of
coaches, carts, and horses encumbering them,
narrow and dirty as they were, and were some-

28 LIFE AND TIMES OF
times so entangled that it was an hour or more
before they could proceed. In such a step," as
HoweU terms it, "was RavaUIacs's fatal oppor
tunity afforded, and the great Henry slain." '^
The plague ^^ settled perpetuaUy in one corner or
another of Paris, but VilUers escaped that risk ;
he retumed, apparently exempt from foreign vices,
unscathed by a more fearfal contagion than the
plague; at least, thus may we infer from the asser
tion of Sir Henry Wotton. "He came home,"
says that writer, " in his natural pUght, without
affected forms, the ordinary disease of traveUers."'^
It may reasonably be presumed that the yoimg
man who retains his simpUcity of deportment, stUl
possesses a corresponding integrity of character.
VilUers was now t"iV^enty-one years old; his
accompUshments may shortly be summed up : he
was an exceUent fencer, an incomparable dancer,
"* " HoweU's FamiUar Letters," p. 39.
"^ It is as well to remind the reader that before the year
1752, the oivU or legal year began on the 25th of March
(Lady Day), while the historical year began on the 1st of
January, for civilians called each day within that period one
year earlier than historians. The alteration in the calendar
took place by Act of Parliament, on the 2nd day of Sep
tember, 1752, when it was enacted that the day following
should be the 14th instead of the 3rd of September. —
" Nicolas's Notitia Historica.''
^ RehquisB Wottonianse, p. 209.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 29
he understood the arrangement of costume and
the art of dressing well, but those valuable acquire
ments lay dormant in one who possessed no ward
robe, for he went to France poor, and his famUy
had net been enriched during his absence. VUliers
was, in addition te these graces, a perfectly weU-
bred man. Lord Clarendon describes him to
have been " a fair-spoken gentleman, of a sweet
and accostable nature." At present, his constitu
tion, which afterwards gave way beneath the
pressure of business, er in consequence ef the
excitements of his dazzling career, was in full
vigour. Such was the youth who now returned
to gratify his mother's ambitious hopes, by that
career te which the efforts of the young aristocracy
of England were then chiefly directed. It may be
here remarked as singular, that ViUiers was trained
to no specific profession; he had not been initiated
into those elements ef learning necessary to
quaUfy him for the church or the bar ; he had net
served in the army; but was, in fact, literally
brought up to foUow his fortunes at the Court of
James the First. It appears te those in modem
times a bold speculation, but the chai^ter of the
monarch upon whose peculiarities it was based ac
counts for the scheme, apparently so chimerical, of
qualifying a sen fer nothing better than te depend
merely upon the chances of an hour, for, had

30 LIFE AND TIMES OF
opportunity been wanting, the graces and accom
pUshments of George ViUiers might have been
for ever concealed, or disregarded.
But it is not improbable that Lady VUUers, espe
ciaUy after her second marriage, had certain de
pendence upen the exertions of personal friends,
through whose agency she trusted to advance her
son's interests at Court. Frem them, too, she
probably learned that the' disgrace of Somerset
was at hand.
When VUUers retumed to England, he found no
better prospect before him than to pass some time
at Goadby, under the " wing and counsel of his
mother."'^ In this retreat, he had leisure te study
the temper ef the times, and to view from afar the
characteristics of that sphere for which he was
destined. It appears to have been the fashion of the day
to rush te London, and to desert those country
seats to which James the First and his son
Charles endeavoured by proclamations and har
angues te restrain the gentry. The innovation
was severely reproved by James in the summer
of 1616, when he made that memorable speech in
the Star Chamber, in which he censured the cus
tom, attributing it, of course, to the wives and
daughters of the offenders. "Thus," remarked
=' Sir Henry Wotton.—" Reliquise Wottonianse," p. 208.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 31
James, " do they neglect the country hospitaUty,
and cumber the city." He next complained of the
new and sumptuous buUdings in the metropoUs,
of the coaches, lacqueys, and fine clothes in which
the higher classes indulged, comparing them to
" Frenchmen," or, as if that were not harsh
enough, declaring that they "Uved miserably in
their houses, Uke ItaUans, becoming apes te ether
nations." FinaUy, he proposed to remedy these
evUs by an edict of the Star Chamber.

CHAPTER II.

JAMES I., HIS DISAPPROVAL OP THE GENTRY CROWDING
INTO LONDON  DISGUST ENTERTAINED BY THE OLD
FAMILIES TO HIM AND HIS COURT  THE CLINTONS,
BLOUNTS, VERES, AND WILLOUGHBY D'eRESBYS
SHOW IT  CHARACTER OP SIR THOMAS LAKE 
WILLIAM, EARL OF PEMBROKE, THE EARLY PATRON
OP VILLIERS — ^ACCOUNT OP THE FIRST INTRODUCTION
OP VILLIEES TO JAMES — AMBITIOUS VIEWS WHICH
IT SUGGESTED  HIS ATTACHMENT TO THE DAUGHTER
OP SIR ROGER ASHTON — -THEIR ENGAGEMENT BROKEN
OPF — ^ACCOUNT OP THE KING'S VISIT TO CAMBRIDGE
IN 1614-15  SOME DESCRIPTION OF THE COURTLY
LADIES WHO WERE PRESENT THERE — -THE QUEEN'S
ABSENCE  COUNTESS OF ARUNDEL — COUNTESS OF
SOMERSET — COUNTESS OF SAUSBURY — LADY HOWARD
OP WALDEN  PERFORMANCE OF THE PLAY OP "IG
NORAMUS" IN CLARE HALL  THE DESIGN OP THIS
COMEDY TO RIDICULE THE COMMON LAW — ADMIRA
TION EXPRESSED BY THE KING, DURING THE PER
FORMANCE, OP THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OP
VILLIERS, WHO WAS PRESENT — THE SUBSEQUENT
EEPRESENTATIONS REFERRED TO.

VOL. I.

35

CHAPTER H.

It might be presumed, from this harangue,
that never had the Court of James been so
magnificent, nor such a throng of the high-born
and the opulent clustered in the metropoUs as
at that time. But the fact was that whUst
obscure country gentlemen brought thither their
famUies, the old nobiUty fled from a court
which cherished Somerset and proscribed
Raleigh, and where all the real business of
the King's life consisted in expedients te raise
money in order to support an expenditure from
which he derived no dignity. The great and
gaUant representatives of the Houses of Clinton,
Blount, and WUloughby D'Eresby sought in con
tinental countries the meed of honour which was
d2

36 LIFE AND TIMES OF
denied them in the service of their own country
by the pacific temper of the King.^* The Tower
entombed some of the noblest spirits. There still
languished the Earl of Northumberland and the
Earl of Wilton; the one beloved, nevertheless,
by Henry Prince of Wales, though suspected of
being concemed with his kinsman Percy in the
Gunpowder Plot; the other a "very hopeful gentle
man blasted in the bud," who had been imprisoned
since the Raleigh plot. Others prosecuted schemes
of discovery; West, Earl of Delawarr, In Vir
ginia, attempted to second Raleigh, and con
tenting himself with that return and inward
satisfaction which a good mind feels in its own
consciousness ef virtue, died In the undertaking.
Others, such as the Earl ef Arundel, could not
tolerate the vulgar revels, the tasteless prodigality
of the Court of James ; that nobleman confined
himself, therefore, to the splendours of his stately
home, for his soul was not that of a patriot, nor
had he, says Lord Clarendon, " any other af
fection for the nation or kingdom than as he has
a home in it, in which, like the great Leviathan,
he might disport himself." ^^
Room and opportunity there were, therefore,
'« Quotation from Birch's work on the Colonies. See
Brydges' Peers of England in the Time of James I., p.
171. » Clarendon's History of England, vol. i., p. 55.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 37
for fresh aspirants to compete for royal favour ;
nevertheless the Earl of Somerset still reigned
pre-eminent, and had then been recently pro
moted to the highest office about the King's
person, that of Lord Chamberlain. The reason
assigned for this new display of partiality was
also such as to prove that Somerset was firmly
planted in his sovereign's favour. He succeeded
in the high office the Earl of Salisbury, who, as
James expressed it, was wont to entertain his royal
master with "epigrams, discourses, and learned
epistles, and other such nicks and devices."
These, the King observed, would pay ne debts,
and he therefore selected In Somerset, he said,
a "plain and honest gentleman, who, if he com
mitted a fault, had not rhetoric enough to excuse
it." *" It seemed therefore very improbable that
VilUers should ever hope to rival one who was so
rooted in the King's regard as the Earl of Somer
set, but events which no human foresight could
have anticipated worked for him in the dark secrecy
of a woman's guilty career.
Mature years, precipitated into old age by
disease and infirmities, had brought no increase to
James of that practical wisdom which regulates a
Court as well as a famUy. His Imputed wisdom,
"Nichols's Progresses of James I., vol. iii., page 19,
note.

38 LIFE AND TIMES OF
which was so over panegyrized in his own time,
and which has been too much depreciated in ours,
consisted in shrewd and sensible general notions,
which he never seems to have appUed to his
private benefit.
So that, though the favour of Somerset, when
George Villiers returned from France, was in its
decline, the King could not be deterred from
seeking a new object for his partiality. He might
indeed have learned a lesson which should have
taught him that he had disgusted the nation and
lowered himself by his system of favouritism, yet,
after recovering from the perils and vexations
of the Infamous business which ruined Carr, he
had not a notion that it would be wise to profit
by experience, and was ready to commence a new
career of foUy, and to sacrifice all the slender por
tion of dignity that remained to him — a dignity
which consisted chiefly in the general confidence
of his subjects towards him — ^by adopting any new
object that might chance te cross his path.
It was during the year of inaction which VUUers
passed at Goadby, that he became acquainted
with the famUy of Sir Roger Aston. This knight
was the father of four daughters, for one of whom
ViUiers, in the quiet hours of his country life,
conceived an attachment. One might, on a first
view of this incident, wonder at the want of eau-

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 39
tion in Lady ViUiers, in detaining her son at
Goadby, there to shackle his future course by an
early, and, apparently, unprofitable engagement ;
but she was not acting, it appears, inconsistently
with her schemes of future advancement, when
she permitted the intimacy which produced this
result. Sir Roger Aston was, it is true, only the
base-bom son of John Aston, ef Aston, in
Cheshire ;¦" he could, therefore, derive no lustre
from that ancient family; he had held formerly
the office of barber te King James when in Scot
land, where Sir Roger was chiefly educated.''^ He
was, in time, made a groom of the royal
chamber, and further promoted to be master of
the wardrobe, and, however humble his birth and
education may have been, became a person of no
inconsiderable influence at Court. During the
last twenty years of Elizabeth's reign, he was the
continual correspondent of Cecil, whom he sup
plied with detaUs of aU that transpired in Scot
land. The powerful minister was not, it appears,
ashamed te owe much important information te
the former barber, and, fortunately for those who
rested upon the goed offices of Aston, he Is re
ported te have been a " very honest, plain-deaUng
¦" Court of James I., by Dr. Godfrey Goodman, edited
by the Rev. T. S. Brewer, vol. i., p. 16.
*' Carte's History of England, vol. ii., p. 42.

40 LIFE AND TIMES OF
man, no dissembler, neither did he do any IU office
to any man." *^
In addition to these acquired advantages. Sir
Roger was enabled to provide his daughters with
portions. It may, therefore, be inferred that Lady
VilUers — who could never have foreseen that her
son would have claimed the hand of an heiress of
ducal Une, nor have anticipated that those attrac
tions, ef which she could but partiaUy calculate the
value, should captivate in after times even a royal
mistress — approved of the growing affection which
sprang up amid the rural scenes of Goadby. It
was permitted, indeed, at first, by both the
parents, whose interests were concemed in it, and
it seems, on the part of the lady, to have been a
fervent and disinterested sentiment. But the
question ef a settlement intervened: VUUers,
in consideration of a handsome dower, to which
the young damsel was entitled, was required to
settle upon her the moderate sum of eighty pounds
a-year. The arrangement was impracticable, for
all his fortune at that time, and even after he had
appeared for some time at Court, amounted to
only fifty or sixty pounds annuaUy. *^
Some opposition to the engagement originated,
therefore, with the friends of the young lady,
*' Bishop Goodman, 1, p. 18.
"Carte, vol. ii., p. 43.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 41
though she, passionately enamoured, was at first
fixed in her choice, and firm to her professions of
affection. " The gentlewoman," says Sir Anthony
Weldon, "loved him so well as, could all his
friends have made for her great fortune but a
hundred marks jointure, she had married him
presently. In despite of all her friends, and, no
question, would have had him without any fortune
at all." But whilst the affair was under con
sideration, er probably when It was partially
concluded, but was still cherished in the minds ofthe
parties most concerned in it, a circumstance
occurred which diverted the hopes of Villiers Into
another direction ; a new stimulus was given to the
energies of his nature, and ambition, as it Is
Imown to have done before, proved mightier than
love. It was at a horse-race in Cambridgeshire that
Villiers first attracted the attention of the King.
The poverty ef the young man was then such that
even on this notable occasion, when the sovereign,
on his annual progress, was expected, and at a
time when the costUness, or, as it was weU styled,
the " bravery " of dress was at its height, he could
not afford any new attire. An " old black suit,
broken out in divers places," was, as Sir Symonds
D'Ewes asserts,^^ the garment in which his narrow
*^ Life of Sir Symonds D'Ewes, edited by HaUiwell, vol. i.,
p. 86.

I LIFE AND TIMES OF
cans constrained him to appear amid the gay
)urtiers who composed the royal train.
As if this were not a sufficient mortification,
Uer inconveniences arose. The race had taken
ace near Linton, and most of the company slept
that town. There was no room in the lodgings
' the inn for the iU-dressed youth in the old
ack suit, "and he was obliged," adds the same
dter, " and even glad, te lie on a truckle bed in
gentleman's chamber, of mean quality, also, at
at time, from whose own mouth I heard this
lation, who was himself an eye-vritness of it." ''^
According to another account, it was at Ap-
orpe, whither King James, in the month of.
iigust, 1614, had sent his dogs, that the monarch
IS so struck by the appearance and deportment
Villiers, that he resolved to mould him, as it
;re " platonicaUy, to his own idea." ^' The Im-
ession produced upon the King was pubUcly
served by attendants and courtiers, and the
ccess of ViUiers was decided. About this time,
ieed, VUliers formed an acquaintance upon
lose counsels he acted, so as to take the tide
fortune at its height.
Sir Thomas Lake is said to have ushered
"> Life of Sir Symonds D'Ewes.
"Reliquise Wottonianse, p. 210; and Nichols's Pro-
jsses of James I., vol. iii, p. 19.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 43
ViUiers into the English Court,** and there was,
perhaps, not one of the subordinate personages
better calculated to guide, in that sphere, the first
steps of an inexperienced youth than Lake. Pa
tronized originally by Sir Francis Walsingham,
and by him recommended to the service of Queen
EUzabeth, he had acted as Secretary for the
French and Latin tongue te his Royal mistress,
and acquired, from his accurate and rapid writing,
the name of " Swiftsure." In the Court of
Elizabeth, where none but men of ability flourished,
he had received his political education. He had
enjoyed the Queen's confidence, and was reading
to her In French and Latin at the very moment
when the Countess of Warwick told him that the
Queen had expired. James made him a Privy
Counsellor, and afterwards appointed him one of
his Secretaries of State.*^ Lake eventually feU
into disgrace, not from his own fault, but owing
to the unfortunate marriage of his eldest daughter
te the Lord de Ross, sen ef the Earl of Exeter,
and to the subsequent enmity of the CecUs. But
at the time when ViUiers owed his first intro
duction to him. Lake was in the height of his in
fluence, and James, even after his downfaU,
accorded to him the praise that " he was a Min-
« Kennet's History of England," p. 706.
« Fuller's Worthies of Leicestershire.

-Jgl^^

44 LIFE AND TIMES OF
ister of State fit to serve any greater prince in
Europe.''^" Under such auspices, VUUers secured the best
introduction to the world that can be obtained —
that afforded by individuals whose high rank was
upheld in pubUc estimation by their personal in
fluence ; and it augurs weU ef the views which
were at that time entertained of his character, and
of the terms on which it was desired to place him
with the King, that those who were real lovers of
their country, and patrons of its best interests,
should have presented him to their sovereign.
Lucy Harrington, Countess of Bedford, "led
u.^ him," says Fuller, " by the one hand, and WiUiam,
Earl of Pembroke, by the other."
Few women shone In the giddy revels of the
Court with a purer lustre than the Countess of
Bedford; her virtues and accompUshments may
have been exaggerated by gratefal poets and
dependants, but they were such as to confer
a certain dignity on all whom she counte
nanced. Hence we must admire the discrimina-
™ Fuller's Worthies of Hants. There is a curious ac
count of the mysterious affair of the Lakes, in Bishop
Goodman's Court and Times of King James, vol. i.,
pp. 193-197 ; also some letters of Lady Lake's, in the second
volume of that work. The State Paper Office contains
more upon the same subject, as yet, inedited.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 45
tion ef Lake in obtaining for the youthful
ViUiers the friendship of one whom society
estimated so highly. The sister of Sir John Har
rington, the Countess of Bedford, resembled
her brother in his love of letters, and fortune
favoured the fuU indulgence of her incli
nations. By the death of that accomplished
brother, she succeeded to two-thirds ef his pos
sessions. She had then been married six months
to Edward, Earl of Bedford ; and, at his decease,
which happened in 1627, she was left in the un
controlled possession of all that nobleman's
estates. This proof of her husband's confidence
and attachment was not misapplied. The widowed
Countess, resembling somewhat the Mrs. Mon
tagu of later times, aimed to be the patroness of
poets. Of course her motives have been sati
rised, and her mode of dispensing her patronage
impugned, for there seems to be. In most bio
graphers, a love of decrying lettered women of
rank. Grainger, for instance, declares that the
Countess ef Bedford bought the praise of poets
by money, and that they, in return, were lavish
of incense." Her taste for gardening has, however,
met with more indulgence. Sir WiUiam Temple, in
his " Gardens of Epicurus," praises her " most
perfect picture of a garden" at Moor Park, In
=' Graiager's Biography.

46 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Surrey, for she was, in truth, the first improver of
the English flower-garden — an honourable dis
tinction. Her education was in conformity with
the practice of the day; she was weU read In
classics, and had a knowledge of ancient medals.
Such was the lady-patroness of Villiers. Te her
Ben Jonson inscribed three of his epigrams :'^
to her Dr. Donne addressed several poems, whUst
Daniel celebrated her in verse.
It is singular that no relics have been discovered
of this far-famed lady's writings, though numerous
aUusions are made to them in the works of others.
A marvellous degree of uncertainty even attends
many points of her career ; the place of her death is
unknown ; and she left behind her no vriU ; the
abode on which she spent large sums Is long since
levelled to the ground ; this was Burleigh-on-the
HIU, which she sold, eventually, to ViUiers, when
in the height of his fortunes ; he erected a noble
mansion upon it, but it was destroyed in the time
ef the RebeUion. Thus, as Mr. Lodge observes,
" she has left, by a singular fatality, as it should
seem, a splendid reputation, which can neither be
'2 He addresses her in one of these ia the following
terms: —
" Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are
Life of the Muses' day, their Morning Star ;
If works [not authors] their own grace should look.
Whose poems would not wish to be your books?"

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 47
supported nor depreciated by the evidence of his
torical facts."^^
Less exclusive, more patriotic, and far more
popular even than the great Earl of Arundel,
WiUiam, Earl of Pembroke, stood, on that day,
on the same vantage ground with that lofty noble
man, the pre-eminence of character. Pembroke,
however, was beloved as well as respected ; he was
pious, liberal, honourable; a lover of literature
and the arts : he encouraged the Ingenious and the
learned, not enly because he delighted in their
society, but from a higher motive, a sense of duty
to the community. He inherited, indeed, that
generous spirit which ennobles the noble, for he
was the nephew of Sir PhUip Sydney, and the son
of that Countess of Pembroke whom Ben Jensen
has termed " the subject of all verse." He was
brave and honourable ; his abiUties were exceUent ;
his character above aU suspicion of the ordinary
insincerity of courtiers. His immense fortune was
employed worthUy, not lavished, for his expenses
were limited only by his " great mind," and occa
sions, to use it nobly. His personal qualities
were such as to make even the Court itself re
spectable, and " better esteemed in the country,"
and he had the happiness, in spite ef envy, to have
more friends than any pubUc character ef his time
'^ Lodge's Historical Portraits, Art Lucy Harrington.

48 LIFE AND TIMES OF
No man dared to avow himself the enemy of ene
who was beloved equaUy at the Court of James
and in the retirement of a home circle at Wilton ;
who sought for neither office nor honours, and yet
was lenient to the faults frem which his noble
nature was exempt.
Such was the nobleman who took by the hand
a poor youth, whose present integrity and inno
cence might, he perhaps beUeved, vanquish the
degrading influence of Somerset and his wife, to
whose fame report already attached the darkest
rumours. In the patron who was moved to second
by his weU-earned influence the fortunes of an
obscure country youth, VUUers was thus no less
fortunate than in the favour of Lucy Harring
ton. Happy had it been for him had he mo
deUed his own conduct and rectified his notions
by the standards now placed before his view;
for there was nothing in the bearing of Pem
broke to lower the dignity of virtue. That noble
man had been termed " the very picture and viva
effigies of nobUity." ** In person, majestic, in his
manners, full of stately gravity, which charac"
terised him, whether in repose or when animated,
his easy wit, free from every taint of malice, his
habitual, unconscious good-breeding, might have
assisted that young and unformed mind in the
" Clarendon, vol.i., p. 85; also, Lodge's Portraits,

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 49
formation of good taste, a property which rarely
fiourishes without the aid of refined associates.
Some defects there were, and those of a vital
nature, which, in looking closely into any cha
racter of that time, cannot but be discovered.
These were materially owing to the bartering
marriages of the middle and early modern times —
the selling one's dearest hopes and Interests In
this Ufe for an estate, or an honour, or a rever
sion. The standard of moraUty was, of course,
lowered, as it still is in France, by the excuse that
fidelity to a wife could hardly be expected under
the circumstances of enforced unions, sometimes
contracted whUe the parties were children.
WiUiam, Earl of Pembroke, was one of the
many who exhibited this doctrine in his practice.
United to an heiress, for whose fortune even the
grave Lord Clarendon observes, he paid " tee
dear by taking her person into the bargain,"^^ he
devoted himself publicly to Christian, the daughter
of Lord Bruce, afterwards Countess of Devon
shire. To her he addressed those beautiful lines
which were, with other poems, edited by Dr.
Donne, prefixed with a fulsome dedication to the
Countess.^^ =^ Clarendon, vol. i., p. 85 ; also, Lodge's Portraits.
"= Peck's Desiderata Curiosa, xiv., p. 641 ; Grainger's
Biographical History of England, Art. Pembroke.
TOL. I. E

.^0 LIFE AND TIMES OP
To Pembroke, Buckingham was, perhaps, in
debted for that love of the arts and taste for
building and embeUIshments which afterwards
distinguished the lordly proprietor of York
House and Burleigh. It is, however, painful to
reflect that not three years after the good offices
performed by .Lord Pembroke to ViUiers,' a
coolness took place upon some matters of little
moment compared with the debt of gratitude due
to the Earl by the faveurite.^^
Notwithstanding the countenance of the Coun
tess of Bedford, and ef the Earl of Pembroke,
those who detailed the smaUest incidents of
the Court observed that the favour of ViUiers ap
peared to be stationary ; even his appointment as
a Groom of the Bedchamber was deferred In
" The death of this nobleman was remarkable. It had
been foretold by his tutor and Lady Davis that he should
not outlive his fiftieth birthday. The fatal day arrived ; it
found his Lordship very "pleasant and healthful," and he
supped that evening at the Countess of Bedford's ; he was
then heard to remark that he should never trust a lady
prophetess again. He went to bed in the same good
spirits; but was carried off by a fit of apoplexy in the
night. Before his interment it was resolved to embalm his
body ; when one of the surgeons plunged his knife into it,
the Earl is said by a tradition in the family to have lifted
up one of his hands. The Lady Davis, who had foretold the
death of this nobleman, was imprisoned for some time.
The Earl died in 1630.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 51
favour of one Carr, a basebom kinsman of the
Earl of Somerset ; and it began to be thought that
the King's preference for Villiers was declining.*'
But the game was begun — the hopes of future
power, of wealth, perhaps of rank, cherished by
maternal counsels, were now working upon the
mind of the young adventurer, and he resolved
upon one sacrifice to obtain the objects at which
he grasped — the sacrifice was, his youthful attach
ment to old Sir Roger Aston's daughter.'''^
As it often happens, the relinquishment ef
fondly-cherished hopes was owing, in part, to the
advice of a friend : the disposition of VUliers was
naturally se generous, that, te abandon all his
pretensions to one who was wiUing to forego the
gifts of fortune for his sake, would, probably,
not otherwise have occurred to his mind. It hap
pened, however, that whilst he was lingering
about the Court, a young companion. Sir Robert
Graham, one of the Gentlemen of the Bedcham
ber, professed himself to be greatly interested In
his advancement. Villiers soon constituted Graham
his "famUiar friend," and, being brought into what
Sir Henry Wotton terms "intrlnsical society"
™ Inedited letter in the State Paper Office, from Mr.
Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carlton, September 22nd, 1619.
'' Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carlton,
November, 1614, given in Nichols's Progresses of James
I., vol. iii., p. 26.
e2

52 LIFE AND TIMES OP
with him, was naturaUy led to speak of his
hopes and fears, and to unfold to the young
courtier, who could boast more experience than
he might pretend to possess, his projected
marriage. That bond was disapproved of by
Grahain. " I know not," remarks Wotton, " what
luminaries he spied in his face;" but they
were, at all events, sufficient to indicate success at
Court. Impressed with this conviction, Graham
dissuaded Villiers from his love-match, and en
couraged him rather to " woo fortune," by stUl
further improving the King's favourable senti
ments towards him. It is not improbable that
Graham was the tool of that party who earnestly
desired Somerset's downfall, and who gladly availed
themselves of the attractions of young Villiers
to accomplish their desires. The advice given
by Graham "sank," it is said, inte the young
man's "fancy." He may have remembered the
auspicious meeting at Abthorpe, when, in his old
black suit, he had charmed even the regard
of a Monarch who rarely dispensed with the
display of costly garments in others, how slovenly
soever he might. In his royal pleasure, be in his
own attire. A love-suit to a country damsel,
richly endowed, even if fond and faithful,
seemed but a poor exchange for a courtly
career. VUliers, therefore, wavered ; and perhaps

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 53
the obstacles thrown In his way by the Aston famUy
added to his irresolution. It is probable, too,
that the prospect of aiding hereafter his many
relations and connections may have had an
influence over his decision. How great the
struggle may have been, must be left to the
Imagination, for ne documents are at hand to
reveal it. The step was momentous ; for it
threw upon the world, to buffet with all the
turmoils of a conspicuous station, a man who,
otherwise, would probably have lived and died in
respectable obscurity, existing upon his wife's
fortune. Villiers, however. In time, adopted the advice
ef Sir Robert Graham. He abjured the thoughts
of an early marriage, and devoted himself te
ambition.^" An opportunity was soon found of bringing him
again before the King, under a more advantageous
aspect than in his black suit, and those who sought
his advancement henceforth suppUed him with the
means of appearing conformably to the fashion of
the day, by affording him a present income far above
his poor patrimonial Inheritance.^' Thus assisted,
the young man prepared to meet the King at
Cambridge, where, in the month of Mai^ch,
^^ Reliquiae Wottonianse, p. 210.
«' Fuller's Worthies of Leicestershire.

54 LIFE AND TIMES OP
1614-15, the honour of a royal visit was con
ferred upon that University.
The Influence of the Somerset family had, in a
great measure, procured this distinction to Cam
bridge, in preference to Oxford ; for the Earl of
Suffolk, the father of the Countess of Somerset,
had been chosen Chancellor of Cambridge during
the preceding year f'^ and to honour this nobleman,
— who had also been recently constituted Lord
Treasurer, an office from which he was eventually
degraded — James announced that he purposed to
fulfil an intention which he had held for some
years, but had deferred, as the good fortune
of Villiers decreed, until this critical period. For
a powerful cabal was now concentrated against
the hateful sway of this branch of the Howard
family, and Villiers was the anchor on which the
hopes of the adverse party rested.
On the seventh day of the month. King James
made his entry into Cambridge with as much
solemnity and as great a concourse of " gaUants
and great men as the hard weather and extremely
foul ways would permit." He was accompanied
by Prince Charles, who had previously visite d the
^¦^ 1613. To the sagacity of the Earl of Suffijlk, and not
to that of James I., was the discovery of the Gunpowder
Plot ascribed. See Winwood's Memorials, vol. ii., p.
186.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 55
University ; and these royal personages were met
at the boundaries of the town by the Corporation,
and welcomed by the Recorder with an address
setting forth the loyalty of the Mayor and Bur
gesses of Cambridge, and insisting upon the an
tiquity of the town, whicli " was builded ' as
historians testifie, and as these worthy personages
now certified,' before Christ's Incarnation, with
a castle, tower, and walls of defence, by Duke
Cantaber." " The Muses," pursued the Recorder,
" did branch from Athens to Cambridge, and were
lovinglie lodged in the houses of citizens until
ostles and hall? were erected fer them without
endowments." Two cups were then presented,
one to the King, the other to Prince Charles, who
was addressed as "a peerless and most noble
Prince, our morning starre," and the proces
sion moved onwards.^^ Among the gallants who
foUowed through the "foul ways" ofthe outskirts
of the town was George Villiers, no longer In his
black and worn suit, but decked out with all the
advantages which the pride and ambition of his
mother could command. It is worthy of remark
that at that time a plan for forming a public library
at Cambridge, simUar to that at Oxford, was enter
tained by the Heads of the College. The scheme
was abandoned until many years afterwards, when
63 Winwood's Memorials, vol. ii., p. 48.

56 LIFE AND TIMES OP
it was adopted by the very youth who passed along
amid a throng of others far more wealthy and
Important than himself, when he was himself
Chancellor of the University.^*
The whole body of the collegians was drawn
out in their appropriate costume, in order to re
ceive the King. From some of the regulations
for this occasion, it appears that the habits
of the University were not at that time the
most refined, nor their taste in attire the most
modest. It was found necessary not only to for
bid the graduates, scholars, and students of the
University to frequent ale-houses and taverns dur
ing His Majesty's sojourn, but also not to presume
to take tobacco in St. Marie's Church, orin Trinity
College Hall " upon pain of expulsion." These
young gentlemen, too, were prone to indulge
themselves in strange "pekadivelas, vast bands,
huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks, and topps of
hair," unbecoming that modesty and carriage
suitable to the students of so renowned a Uni
versity, and It was therefore determined to en
force the dress fixed by Statute, upon a penalty
of 6s. 8d. for every default ; and In case of con-
"' It was checked by the deathof the Duke of Buckingham,
whose project had been to erect a Library between the
Regent's Walk and Caius CoUege. See Nichols's Progresses,
p. 40, note.

GEOEGE VILLIERS. 57
tempt of this warning, of a month's imprison
ment.^^ Thus restricted, the undergraduates and
their superiors appeared in all the advantage of
academic attire, and the King and his youthful
son, passing through their well-disciplined ranks,
proceeded to Trinity College, where they were
domiciled. One or two circumstances were wanting, never
theless, to complete the magnificence of this re
ception : — the first was the presence of the Queen,
who was not invited — an omission for which the
ChanceUor, and not the University, was blamed —
another, the scarcity of ladies, there being only
seven present, and those entirely of the Howard
family. Such was the gride or policy of that
haughty and rapacious faction.
The Countess of Arundel, wife of Philip, Earl of
Arundel, the half-brother ef the Chancellor, was
one ef the seven present on that occasion. She was
scarcely less exalted as the wife of the great
Earl of Arundel, than as the daughter of Gilbert,
Earl of Shrewsbury, Earl Marshal of England,
whose co-heiress she was. Not only were her pos
sessions large, but her virtues great ; she was be
loved for her exceUence of character and conjugal
virtues. Dpon this lady's brow, as she passed
along, a cloud of sadness may perhaps have been
^ Nichols's Progresses, p. 45.

58 LIFE AND TIMES OF
traced for the loss of her son, James, Lord
Maltravers, a young nobleman of great promise,
whose death, happening a few years previously,
she had incessantly deplored. By her side came
the Lady EUzabeth Grej^, her sister.
The Countess of Suffolk was, of course, an
object of considerable attention. This lady was
the second wife of the ChanceUor, and was equaUy
celebrated for her beauty and her rapacity. At
the time of her marriage with the Earl of Suffolic
she was a widow, having been united to the eldest
son of Lord Rich. Her birth was not noble, but
she had inherited a portion of the estate of her
father. Sir Henry Knevit, a WUtshire Knight.
The Countess acquired a great ascendancy over
her husband, and there is too much reason to
suppose that he succumbed to the influence of her
talents and her beauty, and, although he did not
share in the fruits of her peculation, permitted her
to indulge her avarice. So notorious were the
bribes of which this lady accepted, that Lord
Bacon compared her te an exchange woman who
kept a shop, in which Sir John Binglcv exclaimed
" What do ye lack ? " At length the smaU-pox
destroyed the beauty which had been so fatal to
the Countess's peace and honour, and which
had wrought much misery and disgrace to aU who
yielded to its influence.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 59
But If the career of this busy female courtier
were reprehensible, that of her young and beau
tiful daughter, the Countess of Somerset, who
accompanied her mother that day, was tinged
with guUt of a far deeper dye. It is difficult, In
modern times, to reaUse to one's mind two such
women — the one availins; herself of her hish
station and her personal attractions to enrich her
family at the expense of every delicate sentiment
and lofty principle; the other infuriated by a
mad passion, untU every womanly attribute de
parted, and the vengeance of a fiend alone cha
racterised her dark career. The Countess of
Somerset was, at this time, stUl in the bloom of
her youth, being about twenty-four years of age,
and the crimes which afterwards brought Infamy
and retribution on her, were then knovm only to
her corrupt and remorseless heart. The Court,
to use the expression of a contemporary historian,
"was her nest, and she was hatched up by her
mother, whom the sour breath of the age had
nbeady tainted, from whom the young lady might
take such a tincture, that ease, greatness, and
Court glories would more disdain and impress on
her, than any way wear eut and diminish." Such
was the loveUness of this guilty woman, that
those who saw her face might. It has been said,
"chaUenge nature for harbouring so wicked a

60 LIFE AND TIMES OP
heart under so sweet and bewitching a counte
nance :"^^ nor were the arts fashionable at the
time forgotten; they heightened the attractions
of the Countess of Somerset. " AU outward
adornments," we are told, " to present beauty in
her full glory, were not wanting ; " among the
rest, yellow starch, "the invention and foyl of
jaundiced complexions, with great cut- work
bands and plccadlUIes," were adopted by the
unhappy Lady Somerset, and were, doubtless,
produced on this, as upon other festive occa
sions. The Countess of Suffolk and her retinue pro
ceeded to Magdalen College, which had been
founded by Lord Chancellor Audley, the grand
father of the Eari of Suffolk.'^''
The youngest daughter of the Earl ef Suffolk
accompanied her sister and mother. This was
Catherine, married to WiUiam CecU, second Earl
of SaUsbury. By this union long enmities
between the two famUies of Howard and of
Percy were partially reconciled; a daughter ef
the house of Cecil marrying eventually Algernon
•* Wilson's Reign of James I., p. 63.
^^ Lord Audley is said to have given this College the name
of Magdalen, or rather Maudleyn, in allusion to his own
name, adding one letter at the beginning and at the end.
M AUDLEY N. See Nichols's Progresses, p. 45, note.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 61
Percy, Earl of Northumberland, "whose blood,"
it had been said by the Earl of Salisbury, " would
not mingle in a basin," so inborn was the
hereditary hatred between the two races. This
union had been one of policy alone ; for the
Earl of Salisbury inherited no traits of his an
cestry but their titles ; and his weak and abject
nature revived the remembrance of only the
worst parts of his father's character ; " a man,"
adds Clarendon, who sums up the whole, " of ne
words, except in hunting and hawking."
Lady Howard of Walden, the daughter of
George Hume, Earl ef Dunbar, and wife of the
eldest son ef the Earl of Suffolk, and Lady
Howard, the wife of Thomas, Lord Howard of
Charlton, his second son, completed the family
array. The latter of these two ladles was a Cecil,
but her claims to celebrity rest chiefly upon her
being the mother of Lady Elisabeth Howard,
who married the great Dryden ; her two sons,
Sir Robert and Edward Howard, enjoyed
some portion of Uterary fame in their day.^'
The first night's entertainment at Cambridge
was a comedy, acted by the govrasmen of St.
John's CoUege. This was a sort of burlesque,
ridlcuUng Sir Edward Radcliffe, the King's phy
sician ; it proved, according to public opinion, but
«* Brydge's Peers of England, p. 260.

62 LIFE AND TIMES OP
" a lean argument, and though it was larded with
pretty shews at the beginning and end, and with
somewhat too broad speech for such a presence,
stUl it was dry."
On the following evening there was performed
in Clare HaU the famous play of "Ignoramus"
a burlesque. This production was attributed to
George Buggle, a FeUow of Clare HaU. It was
written and spoken In Latin, nor was it even
printed at the time when it agitated the poUte
and leamed society by which its points and satire
were so keenly enjoyed. The manuscript was, it
appears, destroyed ; and it was not untU ten years
after the death of its reputed author that it was
thought prudent to print it, having been taken down
from the mouth of the author. The design of this
popular comedy was to ridicule the Common Law,
and no one enjoyed the satire more than the
august individual whese office it was to uphold
the laws. Never, it has been said, did anything
fascinate the King's attention or suit his taste so
much as this representation, and he commanded
several repetitions by the same performers. " Ig
noramus" was not, however, readily forgiven or for
gotten by that body whom it attacked ; and, whilst
the King and his Court derived the most lively
pleasure from its mingled invective and burlesque,
the lawyers were greatly offended by its pungent

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 63
satire. Successive publications afterwards ap
peared, taxing the justice of this attack upon
the legal profession, and written with much bit
terness. During the performance of this play, the King's
attention was not, however, wholly riveted upon
" Ignoramus" and his associates ; among the audi
ence In Clare Hall, George VUUers, decorated
with aU the care that his mother's pride and affec
tion could suggest, appeared, resplendent in
beauty. " The King," te use the expression of a
contemporary writer, "fell into admiration of
him," so that he became confounded between his
deUght at the appearance of Villiers and the
pleasure of the play. To both of these contend
ing emotions, James, with his usual absence of
dignity, gave a free expression. "This," says
Roger Coke, "set the heads of the courtiers at
work how to get Somerset out of favour, and to
bring ViUiers in.' ^^
Ample time was permitted during the tedious
performance for the King to observe the young
adventurer who sought his favour, and for busy
politicians to buUd upon the absurd partlaUty
of the weak old King. The representation ef
"Ignoramus," with its duU pedantic jests, and its
personalities, long since passed away and forgot-
«» Coke's Detention, p. 82.

1

64 LIFE AND TIMES OF
ten, lasted eight hours ; the second time it com
menced at eight in the evening, and was not
concluded until one in the morning.
The performers were chiefly Fellows of Clare
HaU and ef Queen's College, and their efforts
met with the greatest applause. Thus, In Bishop
Corbet's "Grave Poem," written in 1614, to
celebrate the occasion, It Is said :—
Nothing did win more praise of mine,
Than did these actors, most divine.
And, aUuding to the clerical character of these
much-approved individuals, he adds : —
Their play had sundry wise factors,
A perfeot diocess of actors
Upon the stage, for I am sure that
There was both bishop, pastor, curate.
Nor was their labour light and small,
The charge of some was pastoral.™
Several of the younger men who flgured on the
stage of Clare Hall were asFOciated in their sub
sequent career with some of the most important
events of the period in which they lived. At the
last hour, a boy of thirteen was called upon to act
the part of Surda, in which it was necessary to
assume female attire. This youth was, even at
that early age, an undergraduate; and he was
thus summoned hastily to learn a new part in ad-
" Nichols's Progress of James I., vol. iii., p. 70.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 65
dition to that of Venica, which had been allotted
to him, from the scruples of his tutor, the Rev.
Mr. Fairclough, who had been selected te under
take the character of Surda en account ef his
low stature ; but Mr. Fairclough was a Puritan,
and, deeming it a species ef deception te wear
women's clothes, abjured the degrading task.
The bey who new supplied his place was Spencer
Compton, afterwards Lord Compton, an early
favourite and attendant of Charles I., whom he ac
companied into Spain. His loyal exertions in the
cause of his unfortunate master shed, in after
Ufe, honour upon his name. Mr. Fairclough was
not the only person who objected to lower the
dignity of man's estate by the assumption of a
woman's gown. The Head of Emmanuel College,
then esteemed a Puritanical house, objected also
te ene ef its undergraduates accepting the part of
a girl ; but these scruples were overruled by the
guardian of the youth.''
'' Sir Walter Mildmay, the founder of Emmanuel College,
being at the Court of Queen Elizabeth, she said to hiTn ; —
" Sir Walter, I hear you have erected a Puritan Founda
tion." "No, madam," he replied; "far be it from me to
countenance anything contrary to your established laws ;
but I have set an acorn, and when it becomes an oak, God
alone knows what will be the fruit thereof." — FuUer's
History of Cambridge, p. 147.
VOL. I. F

66 LIFE AND TIMES OF
In the " Grave Poem " of Bishop Corbet, Em
manuel CoUege Is thus satirised : —
But th' poor house of Emmanuel
Would not be like proud Jesabel,
Nor shew herself before the King,
An hypocrite, or painted thing ;
[And images she would have none.
For fear of superstition, or]
But that the ways might seem more fair.
Conceived a tedious nule of prayer. "
The plot of " Ignoramus " was borrowed from
the Trappolaria of GiambaUIsta Porta, an ItaUan
dramatist, but the characters were taken from
Ufe. " Ignoramus " was designed to personify
Mr. Francis Brakyn, the Recorder of Cambridge,
who had rendered himself obnoxious to the Uni
versity In a dispute about precedence between
the Mayor of the town and the Vice-ChanceUor.
Mr. Brakyn was a barrister, and the ridicule cast
upon him. was as much enjoyed by the dignified
heads of houses as by noisy undergraduates.*
Amongst the performers was John Cele,
afterwards Earl of Clare, distinguished for his
'' Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii., p. 67.
* A list of the dramatis personoe in the play of "Igno
ramus " is preserved in Emmanuel CoUege ; it was once in
the possession of Archbishop Sancroft ; and an elaborate
edition of the play, with valuable notes, has been printed
by T. S. Hawkins.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 67
moderation in the Civil Wars. The youth who
was nearly being precluded from acting by the
tutors of Emmanuel CoUege, was the Rev. John
Towers, afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, one
of the twelve loyal Prelates imprisoned by Par
liament. Fuller says of him, " He was a great
actor when young, and a great sufferer when eld,
dying rich only in children and patience." " Igno
ramus " was translated into EngUsh in the year
1678, and a mutilated version of it was produced
at the Royal Theatre in the same year, called the
." English Lawyer." This was written by Edward
Ravenscroft.''^ Another play, entitled "Albumazar," followed
the successful representation of " Ignoramus ; "
this, and a Latin pastoral, were the " action or in
vention of Trinity College, and met with a gra
cious approval from the King, who, even at his
repasts, was now heard loudly to extol Cambridge
above Oxford ; and yet an awkward incident
occurred during the royal visit. During the acts
and disputations, in which James delighted, the
University orator addressed Prince Charles, who
stood beside his father, as Prince Jacobisslme
Carole;" it was also said that he called him
Jacobule, too, which, observed an eye-witness,
"neither pleased the King nor anybody else-"'*
" Nichols's Progresses of James L, vol iii., p. 50.
'• Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii., p. 59.

68 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Buckingham, who possibly understood no Latin,
must have found the dramas, the pastoral, the
acts and disputations insufferably tedious ; but he
was new the tool of a party, and therefore, doubt
less, remained to witness all these various exhibi
tions, little dreaming that one day he was to he
instaUed Chancellor of that very University.
Dark and contemptuous looks were discerned on
the faces of sundry jealous Oxonians, who had
gone to see and to ridicule their rivals, the Cam
bridge men, who were continually, as a contem
porary relates, " applauding themselves, and the
Oxford men as fast condemning and detracting all
that was done." '' The best comment upon the
exploits of the boastful collegians was that re
tumed by Mr. Corbet, afterwards Bishop Corbet,
who, " being seriously dealt withal by some friends
to^say what he thought, answered that he had
left his malice and judgment at home, and came
thither only to commend."'^
King James, however, expressed such unquali
fied admiration of what he saw, that fears were
entertained by those who had had to entertain
him that he would have repeated his visit pri
vately ; apprehensions were felt also lest he
" Nichols's Progresses. Letter from Mr. Chamberlain
to Mr. D. Carleton, State Papers, Domestic, James I.
'« Ibid.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 69
should erder the performers of the " Ignoramus,"
a band chiefly composed of ghostly preachers and
learned bachelors of divinity, to repair to London ;
but the panic was groundless, and neither of
these dreaded events took place. Great, indeed, was
the expense of the reception and provision con
sidered suitable to the grandeur of the occasion.
Nor was it long before events stiU more ruinous to
the Earl of Suffolk and his family than their enor
mous expenditure to grace the King's visit at
Cambridge scandalized the pubUc mind. The
jealousy ef the Earl of Somerset was now aroused
by the favour shown at Court to his young rival.
SUght occurrences warned the sinking favourite
ef his own unpopularity. An entertainment was
given at Baynard's Castle by three great families
— these of Herbert, Hertford, and Bedford ; as the
company were repairing to the appointed place,
they discerned Somerset's portrait hanging out of a
limner's shop. Sanderson, the historian, who
happened to be a bystander, took occasion to
inquire " on what score that was done V The reply
was, " that this meeting at Baynard's Castle was
to discover;" for there it appears the scheme to
elevate VilUers was concocted by those who
viewed with disgust the ascendancy of Somerset.

CHAPTER III.

THE FASCINATION OF VTLLIER S CHARACTER AS OPPOSED
TO THE VENALITT OF SOMERSET — LORD CLARENDON'S
OPINION  THE FRIENDSHIP OP ARCHBISHOP ABBOT 
CHARACTEE OF THE PRIMATE — HIS AFFECTION FOR
VILLIERS  ANECDOTE OF VILLIERS WHEN CUP
BEARER — HE IS BEFRIENDED BT ANNE OF DENMARK
— BT HER MEANS KNIGHTED — SINGULAR SCENE IN
THE queen's CHAMBER— JEALOUST OF SOMERSET 
INGRATITUDE AFTERWARDS SHEWN BT VTLLIERS TO
ABBOT — ^ABBOT COMMITS MANSLAUGHTER  IS PAR
DONED BT THE KING  THE INCESSANT PLEASURES OF
THE COURT  HORSB-RAClNG  BEN JONSON'S "GOLDEN
AGE RESTORED " — ALLUSION EST IT TO SOMERSET, AND
TO OVERBURT  AN ANGRT INTERVIEW BETWEEN
VILLIERS AND SOMERSET — VILLIERS SUPPLANTS THE
FAVOURITE — HE USES NO UNFAIR MEANS TO DO SO 
DISCOVERT OF somerset's GUILT BT WINWOOD, WHO
FINDS PROOFS OF IT IN AN OLD TRUNK  SOMERSET'S
DOWNFALL — BACON'S LETTER TO VILLIERS — VILLIERS
CONTINUES TO PROFIT BT THE DELINQUENCIES AND
DISGRACE OF SOMERSET.

73

CHAPTER in.
Inteoduced, as he now found himself, into the
atmosphere ef a Court, Buckingham retained the
free and joyous spirit, the boyish impetuosity, the
incapabUlty of dissimulation which characterised
him during the whole of his Ufe. The combina
tion of " English famiUarity and French vivacity "
have in his deportment been happUy expressed by
Hume. The carelessness of consequences, which
was a part of his variable and fascinating
character, was soon perceived by his friends, seen
made the theme of comment on the part of his
enemies. To those who had long deplored the rapacity of
Somerset, and who viewed, in the depravity of
the Court, the degradation of the nation, the
very imprudence of ViUiers, coupled, as it was,
witb great courage, quick perceptions, energy, and

74 LIFE AND TIMES OP
a capabUity of being aroused to high designs and
" lofty aspirations," '''' must have been refreshing.
" As yet," says Lord Clarendon, " he was the most
rarely accomplished the Court had ever beheld ;
whUe some that found inconvenience in hia
nearness, intending by some affi-ont to discoim-
tenance him, perceived he had masked under the
gentleness of a terrible courage as could safely
protect all his sweetness." The rise of this gifted
and fascinating adventurer, rapid as It un
doubtedly was, was obstructed by various ob
stacles, the details of which are not to be found
in the ordinary narratives of his career.
Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury, held at this
time a supreme influence beth in Church and in
State affairs. ^His great learning, his eloquence,.
his moderation, and his indefatigable exertions
for the public welfare procured him at once the
confidence of the country and the goodwUl ef his
sovereign. By his conciliatory deportment,
Abbot,, when he held the appointment of chaplain
te the Earl of Dunbar, Treasurer ef Scotland,
effected such an understanding as to ensure the
establishment of the Episcopal order in that
country. He was also one of the eight divines at
Oxford to whom the charge ef translating the New
" See the Character of Buckingham in Disraeli's Com
mentaries on Charles I., vol. ii., p. 163.

GEOEGE VILIIEES. 75
Testament, with the exception of the Epistles,
was entrusted.'* Thus quaUfied fer the highest
station In his sacred profession. Abbot had attained
the rare art of satisfying aU parties. His zeal for the
Protestant faith secured the esteem of the Calvin
ist, and his devotion to the erder te which Ke
belonged satisfied even the disciples of Laud.
This prelate new became the patron of Gieorge
VilUers. Perhaps the fearless, open disposition
of the youth interested the Archbishop, who was
by no means an austere churchman, but who
mingled to a great extent in secular affairs, and
united a love of popular diversions with his
saintly zeal and real piety of character ; — enjoyed a
day's hunting, and regulated alternately the
concerns of foreign nations and the disputes of
controversialists. Archbishop Alibot appears to
have fostered ViUiers as a son. A circumstance
shortly occurred which showed how necessary to
the well-being^ of the rash youth such a protector
and counseUor must have proved.
VUUers new held the office of cup-bearer^ and,
since it was purchased, as most offices in that reign
were, it is probable that those who promoted his
rise, from a hatred ef the Earl of Somerset, sup
plied him with the means of thus drawing near to
his sovereign at the social board ; nor was the
" Biographia Britannica.

76 LIFE AND TIMES OP
office in those days, when James was frequently
in a state ef inebriation, a sinecure.
One day, VUliers happened to take by mistake
the upper end of the board instead of another
attendant. The person whom he had thus super
seded was a creature of Somerset's ; VilUers was
told ef his error in an offensive manner, andremoved
from liis post. Incensed afterwards by a second
instance of incivUity, he lost his self-control, and
gave his brother cup-bearer a blow. By the cus
tom of the Court, ViUiers thus made himself liable
to have his hand cut off; and Somerset, who was
Liord Chamberlain, was bound by his office to see
-that penalty inflicted. It may readUy be con-
'ceived vrith what alacrity Somerset would have
fulfilled this part of his duty, but the King inter-
'posed, and pardoned ViUiers, "who henceforth,"
remarks an historian, " was regarded as a bud-
-ding favourite, and appeared like a proper palm
beside the discerning spirit of the King, who
first cherished him, through his innate virtue, that
surprised all men."'*
It was however necessary that the merits
of VUliers should be unfolded to the Queen.
Anne of Denmark, although apparently
sUghted by her royal husband, exercised so
considerable a control ever his actions that he
" Sanderson's Life of James I., pp. 45 and 457.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 77
never, according to the testimony of Archbishop
Abbot, "would admit anyone to nearness about
himself but such a one as the Queen should com
mend unto him, and had made some suit on his
behalf." Nor did this wholly proceed from a
reverence fer Her Majesty's judgment. It was
the result of the mingled weakness of conduct and
duplicity which characterised James, forming a
strong contrast with his real abUity and acquire
ments ; the absence of good sense and good taste
were equally conspicuous in aU he did in private
life ; but he was cunning enough to desire that if he
made a false step the blame should rest upon his
Queen. His motive in desiring her approval v?as
that, if she were iU treated by the favourite, he
might have the power of saying te her, " You
were the party that commended him to rae."
"Our old master," remarks Archbishop Abbot,
" took delight in things of this nature." '°
Queen Anne had previously been solicited In
behalf of ViUiers, but in vain ; Abbot was, how
ever, successful in his application. ' For some
time, indeed, the Queen answered him in these
terms : " My lord, you and your friends know not
what you ask, for if this young man be brought
in, the first persons that he will plague will be you
that labour for him. Yea, I shall have my part
'" Rushworth's Collections, vol. i., pp. 460 and 461.

78 LIFE AND TIMES OF
also; the King," added the wary Queen, "will
teach him to despise and hardly entreat us, that he
may seem to be beholden to ne ene^ but himself."
"Noble Queen," exclaimed Abbot, when, after
experiencing the hoUowness of Court favour and
the ingratitude of Buckingham, he wrote the narra
tive of these incidents, "how like a prophetess
did you speak ! " Upon the compliance of the
Queen, it was resolved to introduce VilUers to
the King, for the double honour ef being ap
pointed one of His Majesty's Gentlemen of the
Bedchamber, and of receiving knighthood. The
day was approaching, when VUUers fell Ul, not
without suspicion ef having taken the smaU-pox.
This happened when all his friends were " casting
about " how to make him a great man. On the
twenty-third of April* he was, however, sufficiently
recovered for the good offices of his party to take
effect. The event was accompUshed in the foUowing
manner: — The Queen and Prince being in the
King's bedchamber, it was contrived that
VUUers,*' who was near, should be summoned on
some pretext, and when the " Queen saw her own
time, he was asked in." " Then," says an histo-
/ »¦ State Paper, Domestic, 1616. Letter from Mr. Cham
berlain to Sir Dudley Carleton.

*

1615.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 79
rian, " did the Queen speak to the Prince to draw
out the sword and to give it her ; and immediately,
with the sword drawn, she kneeled to the King,
and humbly beseeched His Majesty to do her that
especial favour as to knight this noble gentleman, ,
whose name was George, for the honour of St.
George, whose feast was now kept. The King
at first seemed to be afraid that the Queen
should come too near him with a naked sword,
but then he did it very joyfuUy, and it might
very weU be that it was his own contriving, for
he did much please himself with such inven-
tiens."8» It must have been a strange scene, for Somer
set, who was at hand, entreated of the King that
his rival might enly be made a Groom ef the
Chamber ; but Abbot, and others whom the Arch
bishop does not name, stood at the door and pUed
the Queen with messages that she would " perfect
her work, and cause him te be made a gentle
man," and Her Majesty, as we have seen, pre
vaUed. Nor were these honours, in the case of
ViUiers, attended with the expense which usually
lessened their value ; on the contrary, a pension of
" See Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii.f-p. 80. By a page
in that work, it appears that ViUiers' appointment to the
Royal Chambers, and his being knighted, took place on
successive days, the ceremony of knighthood being performed
at Somerset House.

80 LIFE AND TIMES OF
a thousand pounds was added to maintain the
dignity of knighthood.*^
The termination of this Incident, so important
in the life of VUUers, is related by Archbishop
Abbot ; VUUers at this time caUed him " father."
The professions which he made te his reverend
patron were then doubtless sincere ; but gratitude
was not the only good seed which poUtical feuds
and evil counsels stifled in the breast of ViUiers.
" George," relates the prelate, " went in with
the King, but no sooner he got loose but he came
forth unto me Into the Privy GaUery, and there
embraced me. He professed that he was so
infinitely bound unto me, that aU his Ufe long he
must honour me as his father; and now he did
beseech me, that I would give him some lessons
how he should carry himself." These lessons were
three in number: — first, to pray daUy to God
to bless the King his master, and to give him
grace studiously to serve and please him. The
second was, that he should do aU good offices
between the King and the Queen, the Bang and
the Prince. The third, that he should ffil his
master's ears with nothing but the truth. These
excellent instructions were afterwards repeated to
James, who observed that they were " instructions
worthy of an archbishop to give to a young
man." " Life of Bishop Goodman, vol. i., p. 223.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 81
For seme time, an affection, on the one hand
expressed In parental terms, and gratitude on the
other, continued. "And now, my George,"
wrote the Archbishop, "because, out of your
kind affection to me, you style me your
father, I wiU from this day forward repute and
esteem you for my son, and so hereafter
you know yourself to be ; and in token thereof
I do now give you my blessing again, and
charge you, as my son, daily to serve God, to be
dUigent and pleasing te your master, and to be
wary that at no maiS's Instance you press him
with many suits, because they are not your friends
who urge those things upon you, but have private
ends of their own, which are not fit for you. So
praying God to bless you,
" I rest, your very loving father,
"G. Cant. "8* ¦
The conduct of ViUiers on a subsequent occa
sion made a deep impression on the mind of the
excellent prelate who thus befriended the youth.
"The Roman historian, Tacitus," he bitterly
remarks, " hath somewhere a note, that benefits
whUe they may be requited, seem courtesies, but
'* Extract from a letter quoted in Bishop Goodman's
Life, volii., p. 160. Tins epistle is endorsed "To my
very loving son. Sir George Villiers, Knight," and dated
Lambeth, December 10th, 1615.
VOL. I. G

82 LIFE AND TIMES OP
when they are so high that they cannot be re
paid, they prove matters of hatred."*^ This was a
severe reflection on one who ought never to have
forgotten the greatest ef all obligations, those
bestowed on the unfriended by one In the height
of favour. Villiers may henceforth be regarded
as fairly launched in his career ; it was perhaps his
misfortune that so few important obstacles occurred
in his progress, and that it was achieved by an
apparent concurrence of lucky events, and not
by patient merit, nor by any of the legitimate
sources of success. " The genius of the man,"
observes a modem writer, " was daring and mag
nificent, and his elocution was graceful as his
manners; but these were natural talents; he
possessed no acquired ones." ^^
A true, free-spoken, conscientious friend might
have guarded his youth from peril, and given to
his aspiring mind a laudable bias. Abbot would
have been that friend, but Abbot was soon dis
carded, and an incident occurred some years
afterwards which clouded this excellent prelate's
days, and produced a temporary, though unme
rited, disgrace.
The archbishop, like many churchmen of his
»' Rushworth's CoUections, vol. i., p. 460.
«« See the Character of Buckingham, Disraeli's Charles L,
ii., p. 167.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 83
time, was an ardent lover of the chace. In this
respect he resembled Cranmer, who was so great
a horseman as to be caUed the "rough rider," since
no steed came amiss to his fearless and practised
guidance. Abbot was hunting, in the summer of 1621, in
Lord Zouch's park of Bramsell, in Hampshire.
He aimed at a deer, which, leaping up, evaded
the shot, but a gamekeeper who had hidden him
self behind the herd, was kiUed by the discharge
from the lively primate's gun. An inquest was
held, and a verdict of death by " misfortune and
the keeper's own fault " was returned. It appeared
that the man had been that very morning warned
not to go in that direction. King James, on
first hearing of this occurrence, deblared that
none " but a fool or knave would think the worse
of Abbot for that accident, the like of which had
once nearly happened to himself."
Abbot, it seemed, had gone into Hampshire with
the intention of consecrating a chapel as Lord
Zouch's, and not merely for the purposes of amuse
ment.*' On considering the matter, nevertheless,
his legal advisers did not consider the verdict te have
been legaUy drawn up. Abbot therefore wrote to
Lord Zouch, requesting him to have the coroner
and jury re-summoned, and the verdict re-consi-
*' State Papers, Domestic, cxxii., No. 28.
g2

84 LIFE AND TIMES OF
dered, the credit of his profession being involved,
and his enemies ready to slander him.*' In a sub
sequent letter he recaUed this request, declaring
that it was unnecessary ; that he had a clear
conscience, and was anxious to do everything to
give his enemies no advantages over him. In a
fewdays, nevertheless, he went again to Lord Zouch,
declaring that his unhappy accident had been a bit
ter potion to him, on account of the conflict with his
conscience, complaining that he was the talk of
men, the cause of rejoicing to the Papist and In
sult to the Puritan.*' The King was stUl gracious
to him, but the primate remained In seclusion, and
misfortune seemed at hand. '" These letters were
written in August. In the October of the same
year, the King appointed an inquiry into the acci
dental kiUing ef the keeper In BramseU Park, and
desired three bishops and others to examine
whether there had been scandal brought upon
the Church or not.'' The commissioners were
divided, strange to say, upon the question of the
archbishop's guilt or innocence, but their de
cision, influenced by the strong advocacy of the
Bishop of Winchester, was ultimately In his
«» State Papers, Ibid, No. 61.
«» Ibid, No. 97, vol. ii., 112.
" Ibid, vol. cxxiii.
" Ibid, cxxiii. No. 1000.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 85
favour. The King, as the head of the Church, then
absolved him, but aU the new bishops were so un
wiUing to receive consecration at his hand, that
Abbot was obliged to appoint three prelates te
consecrate for him. AU forfeitures and penalties
for this offence were remitted, and the archbishop
restored te the King's presence. There is, how
ever, no proof of what one looks for with solicitude,
the mediation of Buckingham in favour of his
friend and patron, although there is ne reason,
from the result, to suppose that it may not have
been exerted.
This attempt te make the archbishop's mishap
a "culpable homicide," originated in the Lord
Keeper WiUiams, who had formed a plot for de
priving Abbot. The accusation was based upon
the ground that the primate had been employed
in an unlawful act when the accident Occurred,
but Coke decreed that " by the laws of the
realm, a bishop may lawfuUy hunt in a park ;
hunt he may, because a bishop, when dying, is to
leave his pack of hounds to the King's free will
and disposal." '^
Such were the incidents which deprived VUliers,
for a time, of the valuable counsels of Abbot.
It must, however, be also remembered, when
the real ignorance of Villiers is considered, and
"2 Lord CampbeU's Life of Coke, p. 314.

86 LIFE AND TIMES OP
when his deficiencies and his errors are lamented
as constituting in his case a national misfortune,
that in his career as a courtier he wanted
the needful element in aU improvement, leisure.
The daUy existence of James was made up of
toilsome pleasures, — ^the chase, the drama, the
mask, — at which Villiers, weary, doubtless, attlmes,
of the incessant pageant, sometimes assisted. He
soon imbibed a stUl greater taste for display than
even his crafty mother had implanted in him for
ambitious purposes, and became, like most persons
suddenly raised from poverty and obscurity,
inordinately ostentatious and prodigal.
It is amusing, however, to find him, in the
early days of his greatness, learning horseman
ship. James was passionately fond of seeing
others exhibit on horseback. One of his
favourite places of resort was Newmarket.
The King generally joined in aU country
amusements, drawn in a litter, a mortal Inward
disease even then making that gentle move
ment necessary ; whilst the young and noble
thronged around him on their steeds, set off in
aU the bravery of costly caparisons. Prince
Henry had, during his brief career, set the
fashion of a fondness fer horse-racing, and James,
who suffered se many of his accomplished son's
higher objects to become extinct in his grave,

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 87
maintained in all its prosperity that diversion.
Newmarket, henceforth, was a favourite place ef
resort. Amongst the late Prince's equerries was
a Frenchman named St. Antoine, whose feats are
frequently the subject of comment in the news
letters of the day.
It was in the depth of the winter' when James,
attended by twenty earls and barons, repaired to
Newmarket. There was little accommodation for
them in that place, and the gay company were
ebUged to bestow themselves in the poor villages
around. Every morning, whilst at this resort,
VUliers was mounted on horseback, and taught to
ride;'^ and his progress in the King's
faveur seemed to be commensurate with his
prowess. This was in the December ef the year
1615. On the fourth of January, 1615-16,
ViUiers was appointed Master of the Horse,
instead of the Earl of Worcester, who resigned '
all his posts into the King's hands, and was made
Lord Privy Seal.'*
This mark of royal preference gave a fresh
impetus te the decline of Somerset's fortunes. In
a masque written by Ben Johnson, and per-
" Probably by Mons. St. Antoine, the equerry to M.
Henry. He was engaged as a riding-master, as we find by
Endysmoir Porter's letters, (State Paper Office, Domestic)
to many persons of condition.
" Nichols's Progresses, 7, 1, iii., 131.

88 LIFE AND TIMES OF
formed at court, a bold allusion was made to the
sinking prosperity of the Earl, and a hint thrown
out of his suspected crime. The play was en
titled, "The Golden Age Restored," and these
lines excited considerable attention and specula
tion — " Jove can endure no longer
Your great ones should your less invade :
Or that your weak, though 'bad, be made,
A prey unto the stronger."
The "weak" was conjectured to be Overbury,
and the deUcacy of the aUusion has been pro
nounced by a modern critic '^ " to be above aU
praise." The masque was foUowed by a banquet,
at which the new Master of the Horse doubtless
assisted, attired in aU the splendours which his
new adequate means enabled him to assume.
Those who viewed, merely as spectators, these
various incidents, were curious to know on what
terms Somerset and his young rival stood to
gether. It was impossible, they knew, for James,
always involved, as he was, in the labyrinths of
seme crooked policy, not to temporise vrith one
whose influence over him was fast waning away,
not to unite. If possible, amity to Somerset with
partiality to VUliers. Accordingly, whUst honours
were thus showered upon the new favourite, " like
»> Gifford. Ben Jonson's Works.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 89
main showers, then sprinkUng drops on dews," '^ it
was still thought necessary to concIUate Somerset,
and to make it appear, at all events to the public,
that VilUers owed his elevation te the goodwUl of
that offended and resentful nobleman.
It was deemed, therefore, expedient to take the
very flrst oppertunity that could be available for
propitiating Somerset, and, accordingly, after
the completion of the ceremonial of knighting.
Sir Humphrey May was despatched te in
form Somerset that " Sir George VUliers, newly
knighted, would desire his protection." . Half
an hour afterwards. Sir George visited the Lord
Chamberlain, and paid him this compliment : —
" My lord, I desire to be your servant and
creature, and to take my court preferment under
your favour, assuring your lordship that you
shall find me as faithful a servant as ever did
serve you."
He speke, however, to the inflamed mind of a
jealous foe. The Earl is said to have turned
fiercely upon him, and answered impetuously in
these words : — "
"I wUl have none ef your service, and you
shall have none of my favour. I wiU, if
I can, break your neck, and ef that be con-
<« ReUquise Wottonianse, p. 210.
" Birch's MS., British Museum, 4176

90 LIFE AND TIMES OP
fident." This rash conduct is declared to have
hastened the fall of Somerset, by proving to the
friends of Villiers that one of the two rivals in
the royal faveur must retire, and that Somerset
would brook no equal in the court.
But tkere were other circumstances palpably
concurring to close the shameless career of
Somerset, and abundantly accounting for his
faU, without attributing much importance to the
adventitious appearance of George VUliers at
Court. Thie discovery of his guUt by Secretary
Winwood '* was preceded by such a long course erf
public and private profligacy, that it is no wonder
that Somerset should secj in the prosperity of a
young man whose reputation was imstalned by a
single crime, an earnest of his own downfall, and
that he should employ the greater precaution to
avert the coming, storm.- His efforts were, how-
" Of the mode of this discovery, differing accounts are
given. According to Carte, Winwood derived the informa
tion of Somerset's guUt, from Archbishop Abbot, who de
tected it in some -papers found in a trunk, which was brought
to the Archbishop by a servant of Overbury's. See Carte's
Hist. Eng. vol. ii. p. 43. Sir Symonds D'Ewes declares that
the foul deed was disclosed by Sir Thomas Elwis, Lieu
tenant of the Tower, to Secretary Winwood, acknow
ledging and excusing his own connivance in the affair, and
laying the instigation of it to the account of Somerset and
his wretched wife. — ^D'Ewe's MS. Journal in Bishop Good
man's Life, vol. iv., p. 144.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 91
ever, unavailing. His sending away the apothe
cary who administered the poison to Overbury to
France; his disgracing aU who spoke of the
death of that unfortunate man, hoping by such
arbitrary acts to smother the remembrance ef
that crime ; his tyrannical investigation, by his
warrant as a privy counseUor, of all trunks, chests,
and libraries in which he suspected that any
letters relative to that dark business might be
concealed ; aU were proofs confirmatory of that
dark and foul plot the recoUection of which per
mitted to the terror-stricken Somerset not one
moment of comfort. He now began to act as a
friendless and desperate man, who, feeling that
the ground is slipping from beneath his feet, tries
to hoard up -wealth as a resource. He undertook
no intercession vrith the King without large
bribes ; and every new occurrence brought him
what is termed by the authors of the tract
entitled "The First Fourteen Years of King
James's Reign," a fleece of money." Offices about
the Court were all for the highest bidder, and
even the King's letters were bought and sold •, no
plunder was obtained without purchase, so that
Somerset was soon known te be as notorious a
bribe-taker as his mother-in-law, the Countess of
»» Published in Somers's Tracts, vol. ii.

92 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Suffolk. The high-born and the highly-princi
pled saw with disgust, now Ul-concealed, the
minion leaning on the King's cushion even ia
public, and treating their haughty and influential
class with rash scorn, disdaining even that respect
which was imperatively due to the Primate, Abbo,
whose popularity was at that time in Its zenith.
Many suspected that beneath this arrogant
bearing, stimulating an impolitic cupidity of
gain, there lurked secret fears and a stricken
heart, a horror of the past and a dread of the
future ; and conjectured, as well they might, that
Somerset was never more to know repose of mind
— -nor, perhaps, long to enjoy personal secu
rity.' By all these circumstances Villiers wisely
profited during his early days of favour ; and
happy had it been for him had he never forgotten
the lesson thus afforded him in the awful tragedy
of Somerset's career ; more awful, perhaps, than if
the secret sins of the wretched Earl had been visited
with a signal retribution from the hand ef power.
There Is something in this miscreant's forlorn and
protracted existence, after all that in Ufe is
' Somerset was even accused of having poisoned Prince
Henry; but Coppinger, a former servant of his, who
accused him of that crime, was said to be "cracked
in Ms wits;" State Papers, vol. cxxxvii., p. 27.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 93
valuable — ^honour, peace of mind, influence — were
gone, that is more desolate and appalling to the
fancy than if the Tower had for ever enclosed
him, er the executioner claimed his life as a
penalty for his sins. The unpunished murderer
walking abroad, shunned by all, is a sort of moral
leper ; desolate in his freedom, and chastised
even by the silence and avoidance of his feUow
men. That ViUiers took any active part in the
measures which ensued, his bitterest fees have
net ventured to allege. Young, devoted to plea^
sure, indifferent, at this time, to gain, ambitious,
but not grasping, he enjoyed at this period that
general esteem, the absence of which_he bitterly
felt In after life. Those who hated Somerset
turned to Villiers, and found him fuU of courtesy
and of generous Impulses. Those who were on
the .point of offering bribes to Somerset discover
ing that VUUers had the ear ef the King, applied
to him, and obtained gratuitously what they
sought. The country, as weU as the Court, was
ringing vrith complaints of the Lord Chamberlain's
extortions, when the accidental iUness and remorse
of an apothecary's boy decided his fate. That
individual, employed by his master to administer
the dose to Overbury, feU Ul at Flushing, and the
whole mystery, with all its concomitants, was

94 LIFE AND TIMES OF
revealed. "A smaU breach thus being made,
Somerset's enemies, like the rush of many waters,
rise up against him, following the stream." Thus
does Arthur WUson well express the ruin of one
who, for two years, had succeeded in defying
curiosity and keeping the secret of his crime
unrevealed. With the inconsistent conduct of the King
during the proceedings against his rival, VUUers
appears to have had no concern, except such
as his situation of private secretary to King
James, an office which appears te have devolved
upon him upon the disgrace of Somerset, neces
sarUy entaUed. The alienation of James's regard
from Somerset, and the rising influence ef VUliers,
are nevertheless, according to a high autho
rity, " very necessary to be bome in mind " through
the legal proceedings against the faUen favourite.^
That VilUers desired the entire exclusion of
Somerset from royal favour is more than probable ;
that he took any undue or direct means to ensure
it is doubtful, unless we take as evidence of an
under-current of intrigue, the secret negociations
which went on between him and Sir Francis Bacon,
to whom the conduct of the prosecution was con
signed before the 1 Sth of February, 1615. Whilst
^ Amos's Great Oyer of Poisoning, vol i., pp. 31
and 33.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 95
Somerset was awaiting his trial. Bacon addressed
to ViUiers the following letter. It is commonly
remarked that a postscript is the most important
portion of a letter ; but, in this case, the endorse
ment gives the greatest insight Into the motives
of the writer. On the back of the epistle are
these words : " A letter to Sir G. Villiers, touch
ing a message brought to me by Mr. Shute, of a
promise of the chanceUor's place." Te this the
foUowing letter is the reply : —
"In the message I received from you by Mr.
Shute, hath bred in me such belief and confidence,
as I wiU now wholly rely on your excellent and
happy self. When persons of greatness and
quality begin speech with me of the matter, and
offer me their good offices, I can but answer them
civUly. But these things are but toys. I am
yours, surer to you than my own life. For, as
they speak of a torquoise-stone in a ring, I wUl
break into twenty pieces before you faU. God
keep you for ever. " Your truest servant,
"Feancis Bacon."
" P. S. — My Lord ChanceUor Is prettUy
amended. I was with him yesterday for half an
hour; we both wept, which I do not do very
often."3 ' Bacon's Works, vol. U., p. 183.

96 LIFE AND TIMES OF
That the fortunes of VUliers were ensured
by the awful disclosures of guUt which ensued,
there can be no doubt. It is worthy of
remark, how vitiated must have been the state
of that society, the highest in rank, the fore
most in fashion, in which crimes so fearful,
compassed and aided by associates of the
lowest and most infamous description, could
be ascribed to individuals, and yet those
individuals continue to hold their position
in society. It is true that, during that
interval which must have been to the guUty
Earl and Countess of Somerset a season of in
cessant fear and anguish, reports had been
"buzzing about Somerset's ears, Uke a rising
storm upon a well-spread oak ;" but he had con
sidered himself to be too firmly planted in the
King's regard ever to be up-rooted. And per
haps, had ViUiers not come forward opportunely
to redeem the national credit, and to save a
remnant of the King's character from utter
reprobation and contempt, England might have
been stUl enslaved, until the close of James's
reign, by the extortionate Earl and his haughty
and murderous Countess.
Meantune, ViUiers continued to profit by the
delinquencies ef his rival. He profited in the
way most gratifying to an honourable mind.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 97
•way- meet— giajji^iag" to.  aB^—beaeTgarMe-tmnd.
No intrigues to supplant, no efforts te hasten the
ruin of the Earl, are recorded to his discredit. He
set, at this period of his career, a bright, though un
happUy a transient, example of what a royal favor
ite might prove. He repudiated, not only the
avarice, but the over-bearuig of Somerset.
He was courteous and affable to all, and
seemed to "court men as they courted him."
Free from aU assumption, he stUl delighted te
associate with the gentlemen in waiting, and
to join in their amusements, which consisted,
after supper, in leaping and exercises, in which
none was so active as the young favorite. "*
He thus preserved in health and agiUty that
noble form which excited the admiration of his
country. Such was his popularity, even vrith
the old and haughty nobUity, that they were
proud if they might aid in decking the " hand
somest bodied man of England."^ His taste for
- I have passed over the dreadful story of Overbury's
murder, and its concomitant circumstances, because Vil
liers had no participation in pubhc affairs until shortly
before the arraignment of the two culprits. A letter
written by Lord Bacon immediately previous to that event
is evidently in reply to one addressed to his Lordship by
ViUiers, by order of the ffing. This fixes the date of his
acting as private secretary to James. See Lord Bacon's
Works, vol. ii., p. 173.
» Carte.
VOL. I. H

98 LIFE AND TIMES OP
gorgeous apparel now displaying itself, he was
compUmented by the nobles of James's Court
in the following manner: — one of them would
send to " his taUor and his mercer to put good
clothes upon the newly-made knight ; another
te his sempstress for curious Unen ; others took
upon them to be his bravos, and all hands helped
to piece up the new minion." ® So winning was
the deportment of VUliers, that even his enemies
were propitiated to acknowledge "that he was
as inwardly beautiful, as he was outwardly, and
that the world had not a more ingenious gen
tleman." ' He incurred, however, some risk m
his ardour for amusement ; and en one occasion
over-strained himself in running, which greatly
distressed the King.* So rapid was the rise of
VUUers, that Lord Clarendon describes it by the
term " germination." " Surely had he been a
plant," says that great historian, "he would
have been reckoned among the stoute nascentes,
fer he sprang vrithout any help, by a sort of
ingenious composure (as we may term it) to the
Ukeness of our late sovereign and master, of
blessed memory, who, taking him into his regard,
« Bishop Goodman's Life, vol i., p. 225.
' Carte, vol. ii., p. 43, from Weldon's Court and Character
of King James I.
« Bishop Goodman's Life, vol. i., p. 226.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 99
taught him more and more to please himself,
and moulded him, as it were, platonicaUy, to his
own idea, delighting first in the choice of his
materials, because he found him susceptible of
good form, and afterwards by degrees, as great
architects used te do, in the workmanship ef his
regal hand."' This flattering tribute to King
James might have been spared, for the monarch,
whose blind and almost wicked partiality em
boldened, and perhaps corrupted, Somerset, can
hardly be conceived to have formed the character
of ViUiers.
The testimony of Lord Clarendon that Vil
liers, like his supposed prototype, the Earl of
Essex, was a " fair-spoken gentleman," not prone
and eager to detract openly from any man, "is a
greater eulogy," and to this, the noble historian
adds another, which, he affirms, " the malignant
eye could net refuse te ViUiers ; " " that certainly
never man in his place er power did enter
tain greatness more familiarly" an expression
singularly feUcItous, as conveying a sense of
that innate greatness which exalts its possessor
above conventional distinctions. His looks were
"untainted by his felicity." No conscious im-
» ParaUel between the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl
of Essex. Reliquise Wottonianse, p. 163.
" Ibid.
H 2

100 LIFE AND TIMES OP
portance, no haughty contempt, none of the
littleness of pride, disgusted his equals or de
pressed his inferiors. "This, in my judgment,"
remarks Clarendon, " was one of his greatest
virtues and victories of himself."
The elevation of Villiers appears, however,
not to have been so spontaneous as Lord
Clarendon supposes. " Once commenced, it
ran," says Sir Henry Wotton, "as smoothly
as numerous verses, tUl it met with certain
rubs in Parliament."
Thus, to borrow stUl from the same author,
"the course of royal favour being uninterrupted,
the Duke's thoughts were free." "
MeanwhUe, the most fearful disclosures were
shocking the public ear, and rendering more
secure than ever the prosperity of VUliers.
In the month of March, 1616, Lady Somerset
was committed to the Tower. So promptly were
the measures now resolved upon executed, that
she had "scant leisure," as a contemporary re
lates, " to shed a few tears over her little daughter
at the parting." '^ This was the single touch of na
tural affection which is latent in every heart, and
" ReUquise Wottonianse, p. 166.
" Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir O. Carleton ;
March 6, 1616. State Papers. Also given in the " Grand
Oyer of Poisoning," by Andrew Amos, Esq. .

GEOEGE. VILLIEES. 101
was not wholly extinguished even in the heart of
the unhappy woman. Having given way to that
burst of emotion, she bore herself, as the same re
pert states, " constantly enough," until she was
carried into the enclosure of the Tower. Then,
affrighted and conscience-stricken, she did, ac
cording to the same account, " passionately de
precate, and entreat the Lieutenant, that she
might not be lodged in Sir Thomas Over
bury's lodging, so that he was fain to re
move himself out of his own chamber for
two or three nights, till Sir Walter Raleigh's
lodging might be furnished and made fit for
her." To this gloomy apartment, the wretched count
ess was consigned; her trial was fixed for the
fifteenth of May. But when that day drew near,
when the stage in the middle of Westminster
HaU was completed, the scaffolding around it
finished, and when seats had been purchased at
the rate of four or five pieces each — that being
an ordinary price — and when even a lawyer and
his wife, as Mr. Chamberlain, the writer of the
letter from whom these details are collected, states,
agreed te give two pounds fer himself and his
wife for ten days, and fifty pounds was given for
a comer that " would scarcely contain a dozen,"
the eager public was disappointed. The trial was

102 LIFE AND TIMES OF
put off tlU the twenty-second of the same
month.'' Lady Somerset's sudden Ulness was assigned
as the cause of this delay. Upon warnhig bemg
given her that her trial was to come on on Wed
nesday, " she feU to casting and scouring, and so
continued the next day very sick," her iUness
being ascribed partly te trepidation, partly to the
suspicion of her having taken poison. But she
recovered to make, as the same eye-vritness re
marks, shorter work of it, by confessing the in
dictment ; and " te win pity by her sober de
meanour," " mere curious and confident than was
fit for a lady in such distress ; and yet she shed,
or made shew ef, seme tears divers times." Con
trary to the usual practice In criminal trials, no in
vectives were urged against her, it being the King's
pleasure that ne "odious nor uncivU speeches"
should be given. The general opinion was, that
in spite of her manifest guUt, this miserable cul
prit would not suffer the penalty of the law. It
must have been a singular sight to have beheld
the Earl of Essex, her former husband, a spectator
among the titled crowd at the arraignment ; the
first day, privately — the second " fuU in Somer
set's face."
" See State Paper Office. Domestic, 1616. This letter
is printed in Nichols's Progresses.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 103
Lady Somerset was sentenced " to be hanged
by the neck till she was stark dead." When the
fatal cap was assumed, and the decree uttered, she
bore herself with more calmness than her husband ;
who, upon sentence of death being passed upon
him, was so appalled that, when asked what he
should say te avert that decree, he would " stand
stIU upon his own innocence," and could hardly be
brought to refer himself to the King's mercy.
He was afterwards Induced to rest upon that
point; to write te the King, entreating that
the judgment of "hanging should be changed
to that ef heading;" "and that his daughter
might have such lands as the King did net
resume." '^
ViUiers, no doubt, vritneased this memorable
trial, and beheld the utter degradation of his
rival. The contrast which his own brilUant for
tunes presented to the disgrace and ruin ef ethers,
is shewn by the rapid succession ef honours
which were conferred upon him.
The spectacle, which must have harrowed a
mind not corrupted by the ambition of a court,
was diversified by a grand ceremonial, and a new
honour. This was the election ef Villiers into the
order of the Garter, which took place on the 24th of
" Ibid; printed in Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii.,
p. 169.

104 LIFE AND TIMES OF
April, on St. George's day, whUst Somerset and
his vrife lay trembling in the Tower.
Francis, Earl of Eutland, was admitted to a
similar honour on the same day. The world
cavilled at this nobleman's goed fortune ; for his
wife was an open and knovm recusant, and the
Earl himself was theught to have many disaffected
persons about him. It was soon, however, dis
covered that there was a design to improve the
fortunes of VilUers by marrying him to the young
heiress of the house of Rutland. Meantime, to
enable his favourite to maintain the honours thus
lavished upon him, and more especially to sup-
pert the dignities required by the express articles
of the Order in wliich he was instaUed, James
bestowed upon ViUiers " lands and means ;" and
it was reported that estates, then belonging to
the Earl of Somerset, were te be added to those
gifts, should that delinquent " sink under his
present trial.'"'
Hitherto, Sir George Villiers appears to have
figured alone amid the gay and envying crowds
of WhitehaU, or among the equestrians at New
market. But one of the greater proofs of his ex
tending influence was the favour shewn at this
time te his. mother.
The condition of Lady ViUiers was wholly
" Biographia Britannica, Art. ViUiers.

GEOEGE VILLIERS. 105
changed since her son had left her a widow in
the seclusion of Goadby. Having aUIed herself,
by a second marriage, to a rich and potent family —
the Comptons — she had shared in their prosperity.
Compton had married Elizabeth, the daughter of
Sir John Spencer, Mayor of London, who had died
some years previously, '^ first leaving a fortune
of three hundred thousand pounds, according to
some authors ; to others, of eight hundred thou
sand pounds. The bequest ef this money to his
vrife completely upset Lord Compton's reason;
and it seems to have benefited his faniUy more
than himself. '^ For though he appears to have
recovered his inteUect, he did not live long to
enjoy his great wealth, which went to enrich his
brother. Lady ViUiers, or as she was henceforth caUed,
Lady VUliers Compton, was new admitted into
the circles of the exclusive and lordly inmates
of one of the King's favourite resorts, Hat
field, and in June, 1616, she met His Majesty
there. • Some awkwardness attended this visit to the
Earl and Countess of SaUsbury. The Countess of
Suffolk, the mother of Lady Somerset, was there ;
" The celebrated letter -written by Lady Compton on this
occasion, is inserted in the Life of Bishop Goodman, vol. ii.,
p. 127, and affords a fair specimen of the expectations of
ladies of rank and fortune in those days.

106 LIFE AND TIMES OF
and fears might be entertained in what manner
King James would meet the mother of so great
a culprit; but the imperturbable insensIbUity
of the monarch, or perhaps his Ungering regard
for Somerset, obviated all difficulties. He kissed
the Countess ef Suffolk twice; and performed
the office of sponsor conjointly with her hus
band, with whom, relates an eye witness, "the
King is grown as great and as far in grace
as ever he was, which sudden inritations,
without any intermedience, made the Spanish
Ambassador cry out, 'Volo a dies que la
Corte d'lnglati^rra es com uno libr6 di Caval-
leres andantes.' " Upon this stately occasion,
the Countess of Suffolk "kept a table alone,
save that the Lady ViUiers Compton only was
admitted, and all the entertainment was chiefly
intended and directed to her and her chUdren
and followers." Nor was it only empty civility
that marked the royal favour : shortly after
wards the elder brother of George ViUiers,
John, was knighted at Oatlands, in Surrey,
that ceremonial being a prelude to the titles
of Baron ViUiers ef Stoke and Viscount Pur
beck, which were conferred upon him three
years afterwards. On the sixth of July, the
instalment of the new Knights of the Garter,
the Earl of Rutland and Sir George ViUiers,

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 107
and of Robert Sydney, Viscount Lisle, took place ;
the ceremonial was performed on a Sunday, and
on the same afternoon, a chapter was held to
consider the point whether the Earl of Somer
set's arms were to be taken away or left as
they were. So closely did the elevation of
ViUiers foUow on the downfaU of his rival."
Somerset, however, stiU displayed, even in his
prison in the Tower, his Garter and his George ;
whUst the public were scandalized by repeated
messages carried by Lord Hay, between the King
and the condemned Earl; and the result of these was
soon perceived. Somerset had the Uberty of the
Tower granted to him; he was seen walking
about, and talking to the Earl of Northum
berland, who was still in prison en account of
the Gunpowder Plot ; and at other times salut
ing his lady at the vrindow. "It is much
spoken of," writes Mr. Chamberlain to Sir
Dudley Carleton, " how Princes of that Order,
to let our own pass, can digest to be coupled
vrith a man civilly dead, and corrupt in blood,
" Nichols, iii., p. 175. His arms were, after a long dis
pute, removed higher, in the same manner as when new
arms and banners were introduced. According to Cam
den, "the King ordered that felony should not be reck
oned amongst the disgraces of those who were to be
excluded from the Order of St. George, " which was with'
out precedent," Nichols, iii., p. 177.

y

108 LIFE AND TIMES OP
and so no gentleman, should continue a Knight
of the Garter." Lady Somerset's pardou had
been signed the foregoing week, and, as matters
now stood, ViUiers might stiU tremble lest
his advancement should be delayed, and the
noble miscreants be restored to favours.
His success, nevertheless, continued, for
Anne of Denmark was In the interests of the
young favourite. During the month of August
the Queen addressed a letter to VUliers, who
was then attending on the King, couched in
these famUIar terms : —
"My kind dog,
"Your letter hath been acceptable
te me. I rest aUreadle assured of your care-
fulnesse. You may teU your maister that the
King of Dennemark hath sent me twelf faire
mares, and, as the drivers of them assures,
aU great vrith foles, which I intend to put
into Byefield'^ Parke, where being the other
day a-hunting, I could finde but vere few
deare, but great store of other cattle, as I
shaU teU your maister myself when I see him.
I hope to meet you aU at Woodstock at the
time appointed, tlU when I vrish you aU happi
ness and contentment,
"Anna R.
" Byfleet, in Surrey.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 109
"I thank you fer your paines taken in re
membering the King for the paUmg ef me parke.
I will doe you any service I can."
This characteristic letter was the prelude to
the elevation of ViUiers to the peerage. At
first. It was determined that he should be
created Viscount Beaumont, in compliment to
his mother's family ; and the coronet and
robes were sent down to Woodstock; but that
decision was changed for an obvious reason,
and the title of Baron Whaddon was conferred
upon ViUiers, Whaddon being the estate of the
unfortunate Lord Grey, who had expired in the
Tower in 1614, being implicated in the sup
posed attempt to place ArabeUa Stuart en the
throne. On the twenty-seventh of August, 1616, the
ceremony of this double creation took place.
On this occasion, the preface to the patent
was composed by Lord Bacon, who, on sending
it to the King, observed that he had not used
in It "glaring terms," but drawn it accord
ing to His Majesty's instructions. It was de
termined that the two creations, those of Baron
Whaddon and Viscount ViUiers, should take
place at the same time, the former being in
tended to secure the estates of Whaddon, the
latter, to preserve the name of VUliers in the

110 LIFE AND TIMES OF
appeUation of the favourite. This appears to
have been the especial vriU of James. " For
the name," writes Bacon to ViUiers, on send
ing him his patent for the title of Viscount,
" His Majesty's wUl is law in these things ;
and to speak truth, it is a well-sounding name
both here and abroad, and being even a proper
name, I wUl take it for a good sign that you
shall give honour to your dignity, and not
your dignity to you. Therefore, I have made
it 'Viscount VUUers;' and as for your Barony,
I vrill keep it for an Earldom, for though
the latter had been more orderly, yet that
is as usual, and both aUke good in law."
The patent, however, was again altered. It
is possible that Bacon may have imagined that
the associations connected with Whaddon, and
relating to a nobleman generaUy compassionated,'^
might have rendered ViUiers unpopular: at
all events he changed it to Blechly ; and
VUliers received the patent of Lord Blechly,
of Blechly .2"
"I have sent you," Bacon thus wrote, "now,
¦' According to Carte, ViUiers was obUged to pay
11,000Z. to Sir Rowland Egerton, who had married Lord
Grey's sister, and also to procure Sir Rowland the
patent of Baronetcy. But this is discredited by Sir
Egerton Brydges. See Men of Fame, vol. i., p. 79.
^ Bacon's letters, vol. ii., p. 85.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. Ill
your patent of creation of Lord Blechly of
Blechly, and of Viscount Villiers. Blechly Is
your own, and I like the sound of the name
better than Whaddon ; but the name wIU be laid
aside, for you wish to be caUed Viscount ViUiers.
I have put them both in a patent, after the
manner of the patent of arms where baronies
are joined; but the chief reason was, because
I would avoid double prefaces, which had not
been fit ; nevertheless, the ceremony of robing,
and otherwise, must be double."^'
Sir George VUUers was introduced to the
royal presence, on this occasion, by his relative,
Lord Compton, and by Lord Norris, the
Lord Carew carrying the robe of state
before him, when his new honour of Baron
Blechly of Blechly was conferred. He was
afterwards created Viscount Villiers, when he
appeared in a surcoat of scarlet velvet, and was
brought in by the Earl of Suffolk and Viscount
Lisle, Lord Norris carrying the robe of state of
the same coloured velvet, and Lord Compton
the crown. The King was seated on his throne,
and the Queen, and Charles, Prince of Wales,
were present, and aU the company " seemed
joUy, and weU afraid."
The advice which Bacon proffered to VilUers,
upon his elevation to the peerage, is couched
^' Bacon's Letters.

112 LIFE AND TIMES OP
in noble terms, and wants nothing but the
indefinable charm of supposed sincerity to per
fect it : —
" And after that the King shall have watered
your new dignities vrith his bounty of the
lands which he intends you, and that some
other things concerning your means, which are
now Ukewise in intention, shaU be settled upon
you, I de not see but you may think your
private fortimes established; and, therefore. It
is now time that you should refer your actions
chiefly to the good of your sovereign and your
country. It is the life of an ox or a beast, always
to eat and never to exercise ; but men are
born, especially Christian men, not to cram in
their fortunes, but to exercise their virtues ; and
yet the others have been the unworthy, and some
times the humour ef great persons in our time ;
neither will your further fortune be the farther off ;
for assure yourself that fortune is of a woman's
nature, that will sooner follow you by sUght
ing than by too much moring." ^^
He recommends the young peer, in this " dedi
cation of himself to the public, to countenance,
encourage, and advance able and virtuous men,
in aU degrees, kinds, and professions." And
in places of moment, " rather," he says, " make
" Bacon's Letters, vol. ii., p. 85.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 113
able and honest men yours, than advance those
that are otherwise because they are yours."
" The time is," he adds, in conclusion, " that
you think goodness the best part of greatness :
and that you remember whence your rising
comes, and make return accordingly, God ever
keep you."
Some time afterwards, another characteristic
epistle from the Queen denoted the secret
terms upon which Anne of Denmark stood with
the young favourite : —
"Mt kind DOG,
" I have received your letter,
which is verie welcom to me; you doe verle
weU in lugging the sowes (the King's) ears,
and I thank you fer it, and whould have you
do so stiU, upon condition that you continue
a watchful dog to him, and be alwayes true
to him. So wishing you all happines.
" Anna R." ^^
It is not a matter of surprise that, thus
caressed by both the King and Queen,
marks of favour should have followed in
continual succession. According te Lord Clar
endon, the rapid rise of VUUers might be
imputed to a certain innate " wisdom and virtue
that was in him, vrith which he surprised,
^ Nichols, vol. ui.jp. 187.
TOL. I. 1

114 LIFE AND TIMES OF
and even fascinated, all the faculties of his incom
parable master."
And this was no matter of surprise, if we may be
lieve in the tmth ofthe foUowing remarks: — "That
ViUiers was no sooner admitted to stand there in
his own right, but the eyes of aU such as look'd
eut ef judgement, or gazed out of curiosity,
were quickly directed towards him ; as a man,
in the deUcacy and beauty of his colour, decency
and grace ef his motion, the mest rarely accom
plished they had ever beheld."
The emotions experienced by ViUiers, as he
gradually ascended higher and higher towards the
eminence ef worldly grandeur, are weU described
by Lord Clarendon, in the foUovring words : —
" His svriftness and nimbleness in rising, may
be with less injury ascribed to a vivacity than any
ambition in his nature ; since, it is certain the
King's eagerness to advance him, so surprised hia
youth, that he seemed only to be held up by the
violent incUnations of the King, than te cUmb up
by any art or industry of his own."^ It is not to
be marveUed at, that the character of ViUiers
should suffer in this ordeal, fiercer than that of the
most depressing vicissitude and adversity; and
soon, therefore, indications are to be found,
in the annals of the day, of a dawning
^ Disparity, p. 194.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 115
selfishness and imperlousness, foreign to the
simple and courteous nature of VlUIers.^^ Still
there were noble traits of a Ungering great
ness of spirit, which justify the partiality
which every one who analyses his character
must necessarUy entertain for it ; sometimes at
variance vrith his better judgment. Whilst by
watchful bystanders it was remarked that VUliers,
the new made Viscount, " wiU hardly suffer any
one to leap ' over his head," nor would he allow
the Lord Chancellor Ellesmere to be made an
Earl ; by others, a sacrifice of interest, proceeding
from a generous scruple, is recorded.
It vriU be remembered by historical readers,
that Sherborne Castle, the forfeited estate of Sir
Walter Ralegh, had been bestowed by James
upon the Earl of Somerset. When supplicated
by Lady Ralegh te restore that property to her
children, the monarch's answer was, " I mean to
have it for Carr ;" a reply, which, as Mr. Amos
justly observes, " cannot be read in the present
day vrithout indignation ; " " what impressions,"
he adds, " must it have produced on the contem
poraries of Ralegh and Carr?"^^ At the trial of
Somerset, this luckless possession, upon which
a curse has been supposed to rest, was highly
prejudicial to him ; and many there were, who
« Nichols, voL iii., p. 191.
" Great Oyer of Poisoning, p. 29, by Andrew Amos, Esq.
I2

116 LIFE AND TIMES OF
regarded his calamities as a judgment for this
detested acquisition.
When the Earl of Somerset's lands were given
away, after his forfeiture, the estate of Sherborne
was offered to ViUiers ; he might, perhaps, have
accepted It vrithout odium, for upon Prince
Charles had been bestowed aU Somerset's estates
in the north. But he refused the offer of Sher
borne, according to a passage in Birch's MSS.,
" in a most noble fashion ; praying the King that
the building of his fortunes might not be founded
on the ruin of another." ^' Sherborne, the value
of which was at this time about eight hundred
pounds yearly, hut was expected to be shortly
double that sum, was given to Sir John Digby,
upon the payment of ten thousand pounds, and
has remained ever since in the same famUy. The
respect of ViUiers towards the memory of an un
fortunate man was much appreciated ; already had
public opinion visited with its bitterest curse, the
traitor, Sir Lewis Stukeley, who was afterwards
" Birch's MSS. 4176. This anecdote, so creditable to Buck
ingham, is confirmed by a grant in the State Paper Office.
S. P. O. vol. cv.. No. 20, see Calendar, 1616-17, March
12, the grant to the Earl of Buckingham, fee-simple of the
manors of Beaumont, OldhaU and NewhaU de Beaumont,
Mose, Okeley Magna, Okeley Parva, Sligghawe, Okeley
Park, Mose Park, Essex, together with aU timbers and ad
vowsons belonging to them, which the Lord Darcie of Chiehe

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 117
a prisoner in that very " chamber in the Tower^
in which Ralegh, whom he had betrayed, had
spent twelve years of misery."^*
Sir Henry Wotton compares the repetition of
benefits conferred upon Villiers, to a kind of
embroidering, or listing of one favour upen
another. But aU these preferments were, he adds,
but the " facelngs er fringelngs of his greatness,"
compared with that trust which the King shortly
reposed in his favourite, when he made him " the
chief concomitant of his heir apparent."^®
This Important mark of respect and confidence
had never been extended to the Ill-fated prede
cessor in James's favour, the Earl of Somerset.
If ViUiers were at that period of his life unworthy
of the trust, James, endowed as he was with aU
the experience which his own vicious Court could
bestow, was criminal beyond measure to place his
only son, on whom the hopes of the nation rested.
In contaminated society. James must, in that
case, have been either grossly deceived, or im
measurably culpable. The friendship, thus com
menced between the prince and the favourite, in
holdeth for terme of his life. Manor of Eleete, marshes of
Trewdales, Fleetehouse HaU HiUs, in Lincolne, in Ueu of
the manor of Teynton Magna, Gloucester, part of value for
Sherborne, escheated to the Crown by Somerset's attain
der. Inedited MSS. Domestic, 1616-17.
™ Hutchins's History of Dorsetshire, vol. iv., p. 83.
^ ReUquise Wottonianse.

118 LIFE AND TIMES OF
youth, was fraught with consequences so impor
tant te this country, that few points ef historical
biography can offer greater domestic interest than
the early intimacy between Charles and VUliers.
Charles, Prince of Wales, was eight years I
younger than the man whom he afterwards ad
mitted te an intimacy such as has been rarely per
mitted between a monarch and a subject, and
which ceased only when VUUers expired. The
superstitious, when they remembered, in aftertimea,
the perils of the young prince's infancy, saw in them
a type of his fate. " He was bom," says the his
torian Kennet, "and baptized, in somewhat of
surprise and confusion, as it were beginning the
world in a sort of presage how he was to end it."'"
Se feeble was he, that even afterwards, although
in process of time there were many great ladies
suiters for the keeping of the infant Prince, yet
when they saw how sickly and fragile he was,
their hearts faUed, and none ef them consented
to undertake so Important a charge.^' Little, in
deed, ceuld it have been anticipated that the
delicate boy was fated, not only to outlive his
energetic and robust brother, Henry, but even to
become, in times ef danger, one of the hardiest
and healthiest of those who fought on EdgehUl,
and at Naseby. The constitution of Charles was
" Kennet's Hist. England, p. 1.
" Sir Robert Carey's Memoirs, p. 201.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 119
invigorated in his vicissitudes, and perfected by
the toils of a soldier's Ufe.
That he should reign over this country was
foretold by second sight. When James the First
was preparing to remove from Scotland, there
came to the Court an aged Highland chief, to
take a solemn leave of his sovereign. The Queen
and her chUdren were present. The old man,
after addressing a great deal ef affectionate and
sage advice to the King, tumed to the chUdren,
and passing by Henry, he kissed with great ardeur
and deep respect the hands ef his younger bro
ther, the Duke Charles, as then he was called.
. The King strove te correct what he fancied
was a mistake on the part of the chief, and to
direct his attention to the heir apparent, the fit
object of such homage. But the Highlander
heeded not those hints ; he continued to gaze
upon and to address the infant Charles ; saying
that he knew to whom he addressed himself.
" This child," he exclaimed, " wiU be greater than
his elder brother, and wiU convey his father's name
and title to succeeding generations." " This," said
Dr. Pemichief, Charles's tutor, " was conceived to
he dotage ; but the event gave it the credit of a pro
phecy, and confirmed that some long experienced
souls In the world, before their dislodging, arrive
to the height of prophetical spirits." *^ A long
^ Kennet's Hist. England.

120 LIFE AND TIMES OF
period of fragility seemed to throw doubt upon
the gratuitous prophecy of the aged chief For
tunately, Sir Robert Carey, to whom the charge
ef the drooping child was entrusted, was an esti
mable person, incapable of anything deceitful, or
unjust— a "plain, honest gentleman." '^ Those
who wished IU to him and to his wife rejoiced
at this selection, for they were certain that the
prince would never be reared.
The weakly Charles was four years of age
when consigned te the care of Sir Robert
Carey. He could not, at this age even,
stand alone ; his ancles appeared to be out
of joint. The King, with his characteristic
conceit and want of gentle feeling, was dis
posed to use the most violent remedies and
measures to cure the defects at which his
pride was offended. The nostrums which he
recommended were worthy of Martinus Scrib-
lerus. But he found a champion of the
helpless child in Lady Carey. " Many a battle
my wife had vrith the King, but she stUl
prevaUed," writes Sir Robert Carey.'* The King,
nevertheless, wished that the string under the
young prince's tongue might be cut ; for the child,
it was thought, would never speak. Then he
proposed wire boots for his sinews and feet,
'' Goodman's Life, vol. i., p. 7.
^ Carey's Memoirs, p. 200.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 1^1
but Lady Carey stood firm, and the Monarch
was obliged to yield te a woman's arguments.
The boy grew daily stronger, and repaying
Lady Carey's good care, gained health under her
mild auspices, " both in body and mind." ''
StiU the impediment in his voice continued ; his
countenance exhibited that mournful expression
which was doubtless the natural consequence
of a weakly childhood, and of the conscious
ness of bodUy defects, which is the most
lUiely of any circumstances to depress the buoy
ancy of the young.
To the inevitable solitude ef ill-health, Charles
probably owed his prudence, his early piety, and
his taste for elegant pursuits. ViUiers, in after
Ufe, found his love of pictures and medals
one road to Charles's affections, by producing
a sympathy between himself and the young
prince. Charles was also, for his age, an accom
pUshed theologian, and notwithstanding the
Impedunent in his utterance, he could dis
course to the admiration of all who heard
him, on topics of general interest. With the
traveUer, the mechanic, and the scholar, he
was equaUy fluent, meeting them en their own
subjects, and imparting knowledge to the leamed.
He improved, too, in those diversions, and
exercises which were then considered indispens-
'' Carey's Memoirs.

122 LIFE AND TIMES OP
able to the character of a gentleman. " He rid,"
says his tutor, Dr. Pemichief, "the great horse very
well ; and on the little saddle he was not only
adroit, but a laborious hunter or fieldman." ^^
The temper of Charles is said to have been
tinctured vrith obstinacy; and his old Scottish
nurse reported him to have been of a very
eril nature, even in his infancy; whilst an
other attendant taxes him vrith being, "be
yond measure, vrilfrd and unthankful." ^^ How
far, in these uncured quaUties, " springing Uke
rank weeds in the heart," we may trace some
of the fatal errors in Charles's career — ^his
pertinacious adherence, especially when King, to
ViUiers, whether his favourite was right or
wrong, is a matter of curious speculation.
But Dr. Pemichief, who knew Charles well,
only allows that his " childhood was blem
ished with supposed obstinacy, for the weak
ness of his body inclining him to retirement,
and the imperfections of his speech rendering dis
course tedious and unpleasant, he was suspected
to be somewhat perverse," a construction often
put upon the deportment ef a bashful, sad
child. Such were his defects; and, as far as
'« Inedited MS. in the State Paper Office. Domestic,
Nov. 1616.
"' Miss Aikins' Life of Charles I., vol. i., p. 55, 56.,
from Sir Philip Warwick's; also Lilly's Observations, p. 60.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 123
his royal father was concerned, they were
more offensive to the pride of the king, than
painful te the tenderness of a parent. AU,
however, acknowledged that the youth of the
accomplished Charles had hitherto been irre
proachable, and that, if he manifested not the
powerful inteUect and extended views of his
late brother, he resembled him in his love of
virtue, his sense of honour, and in the difficult
task ef being dutiful and respectful te parents
who were frequently at variance.
He now came, at the age ef sixteen, before
his future subjects, vrith this singular disad
vantage, that the death of his elder brother was
StiU a subject of lamentation. The clergy, espe
ciaUy, could not forget one whose staunch Protes
tantism gave them the assurance ef a steady friend.
"Henry, Prince of Wales, was stUl," says
a contemporary writer, "so much in men's
minds, that Andrews, Bishop of Ely, preach
ing at court, prayed solemnly for him, with
out recaUing himself." '* The Queen, too,
refused te be comforted, and upon the first
public occasion on which Charles appeared,
decUned being present, lest the ceremonial
should revive her grief.
" Inedited MS. in the State Paper Office. Domestic,
Nov. 1616.

124 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Many could remember that at his InstaUa-
tion into the Order of the Bath, at four
years of age, Charles, unable to walk, was
carried in the arms of the Lord High Admiral
to the rites which, referring to chivalric ob
servances and martial deeds, seemed a sort
of mockery to the infant Prince. Those who
recalled that hour, now beheld In the royal
youth, who at his creation as Prince of Wales ap
peared before them, a graceful and manly figure set
off to advantage by dress, and other circumstances.
In an old print, engraved by Renold Estraake,
he is represented, as Prince of Wales, in a
slouched hat with a long faUing feather ; his
juvenile, and very slender form clad in a tight
vest; a sash ever the right shoulder is tied
with a large bow under the left arm, and the
ends are fringed with jewels. Around his waist
is a scarf, also edged with a fringe of pearls
and jewels. A stuffed skirt, richly embroi
dered and adomed, descends almost to the
knee. His boots are apparently of some soft
material, being creased ; the tops richly deco
rated with jewels. Thus attired, and mounted
en a superb horse, the head of which was
adorned with a Phcenix in flames, emblematic-
aUy compUmentary, Charles presented him
self to the people. Such was his costume before

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 125
he visited Spain, and imbibed a love of the grace
ful cloak, the Spanish hat, and Vandyke collar.
His manners, serious though courteous, were
highly acceptable to the majority of those
who gazed upon him, when, on the eve ef
All Saints' day, October Slst, 1616, Charles
was created Prince of Wales. His very
stammering began to be approved as a mark
of vrisdom ; and " obloquy, it was said, never
played the fool so much as in imputing foUy
to the heir apparent."
Buckingham, although twenty-four years of
age, seems by the earliest portrait that there
is of him — the engraving by Simon Pass, in
1617 — to have had a most youthful appear
ance. In that picture, taken when he was
made an Earl, and therefore during the en
suing year, he is depicted in a tight doublet,
vrith a smaU white coUar edged with Van
dyke lace, and closed with one row of rich
pearls down the centre. A cloak hangs over
one shoulder, but the other displays a short
sleeve, or epaulet, opening above the elbow,
and having underneath a richly-worked sleeve,
confined at the vn-Ist by a deep cuff, fringed,
and turned back; his doublet is richly guarded with
lace. At this period, a very sUght moustache
is seen upon his upper Up, and the pointed

126 LIFE AND TIMES OF
beard, which is afterwards to be found in aU
his portraits, is not observable.
The ceremonials performed on this occasion
were such as the people of this country have ever
dearly loved ; and, without considering that they
emptied the royal coffers, and compelled James
to resort to expedients for raising money which
rendered him a continual debtor to the bounty
and loyalty of his subjects, eventuaUy taxing too
far their hberality, they loudly extolled them
on this occasion. It must, however, have
been a cheering sight when the young Prince
came in state from Barn Elms to WhitehaU,
accompanied by a retinue of lords and gentlemen
of honourable rank. At Chelsea he was met by
the Lord Mayer and citizens, in separate barges ;
and the sounds of martial music, or, as the
chronicler of the day terms it, " the royal sound
of drum and trumpet," the sight of a crowd
of people on the shore and in boats, the
rich banners and streamers," with many trophies
and ingenious devices which met him on the
water, must have presented as festive a scene as
ever was enacted on the bosom of the river
Thames. The speeches addressed were, of course, in
verse. They were proffered by a female figure,
representing London, seated upon a sea unicorn.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 127
with sis Tritons supporting her, accompanied by
Neptune and the two rivers, Thames and Dee.
This personage addressed the young prince in
the foUowing terms : —
Treasures of hope and jewel of mankind.
Richer no kingdome's head did ever see;
Adorn'd in titles, but much more in mind,
The love of many thousands speake in thee ;
The ode went on to enumerate the blessings to
be anticipated from the promising virtues of
Charles, and concluded : —
Welcome, oh, welcome — all faire joyes attend thee,
Glorie of Ufe, to safety we commend thee.
After this address, the young Prince was
wafted down to Whitehall Stairs, where he
landed. Passing on to the palace, he saluted the
King, who stood on the palace stairs. The cere
mony of creation, which took place on the fol
lowing Monday, was performed in the haU of
WhitehaU Palace ; and at night, " to crown it vrith
more heroical honour, fortie worthy gentlemen
of the ten noble societies of Innes of Court,
and every way quaUfied by birth to break
three staves, three swords, and exchange ten
blows a-piece," encountered each other. The
deUcate health of the Prince, and the late season
of the year, prevented any great precession at
the creation, but it was commemorated by tilting

128 LIFE AND TIMES OF
at the ring, to give great lustre and honeur to
the occasion, and among fourteen names of high
degree, is found, among the challengers, that of
Viscount Villiers, his first appearance in the
tUt yard. Among the gallants who fiaunted it
out with the greatest bravery, are to be found
many famous in successive times.^'
Notwithstanding the sanction which James
gave to a growing intimacy between the heir
apparent and his favourite, there had been
various early disagreements between them, which
delayed the reciprocal affection which the King
strove to promote between Charles and Bucking
ham. Their confidence was, in truth, the growth
of years, and was impeded by several Incidents,
which those who were adverse to Villiers were
eager to notice and te record. It was generaUy
expected that a jealousy between them would
defeat the King's wishes, and divide the court
into two parties; and the foUowing letter
imparts one of those incidents upon which such
anticipations were founded : —
'" The Lord Seymour, who had married the Lady Ara
beUa Stuart, was among a set of newly-created Knights of
the Bath ; and Tom Carew and Phil Lytton, third son of
Sir Rowland Lytton, of Knebworth, Herts., "were squires
of high degree, for cast and bravery; the one being
esquire to Lord Beauchamp, the other to his cousin,
Rowland St. John.— Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir
Dudley Carleton. State Paper Office, November 4th.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 129
Letter of Edward Sherburn to Lord Holland.
"March 14, 1615.
" There is a speech in court of the distaste Sir
George VilUers hath given the Prince about a
ring. The manner, as I have heard it. Is thus ;
The Prince coming ene afternoon into the
Presence at Newmarket, with Sir George
VUUers, and discoursing with him, fixed his eyes
upon a ring which Sir George ViUiers had upon
his finger, which, taking from him, put it upon
one of his own ; and having occasion to pull out
his pocket-handkerchief, the ring, being too large
for the Prince's finger, feU into his pocket. The
Prince parting from him, not thinking of the
ring, the next morning. Sir George Villiers,
meeting the Prince in His Majesty's presence
again, and finding the Prince to take no notice of
his ring, asked His Highness for it ; to which he
answered, that in good faith he knew not what
he had done with it; whereat Sir George
ViUiers fiew into such a passion, whether it was
in regard of the value, or of the piece, as he left
the Prince, and went immediately to the King,
exceedingly disconcerted. The King, obserring
some distemper In him, demanded the occasion.
Expressing the same with some earnestness. Sir
George told the King that the Prince had lost a
ring of his, which did much trouble him. The
VOL. I. K

130 LIFE AND TIMES OP
King, moved thereat, sent for the Prince, and
used such bitter language to him, as forced
His Highness to shed tears, teUing him also not to
return to His Majesty untU he had found it, and
restored the ring to Sir George ViUiers. The
Prince, after he came from the King, gave com
mandment to Sir Robert Carey to search in the
pockets of his breeches which he wore that day,
when by good fortune the ring was found, and by
Sir Robert Carey delivered to Sir George
VUliers. By this a man may see the force ofthe
King's affection, which is boundless, and so
likewise may be seen how far beyond reason pre
sumption may transport a man. What the con
sequence of this and the like will be, time
must produce. Only this much is conceived, that
the favour ef the King en this particular cannot
continue, because there wants a sound founda
tion to uphold so great a buUding. Thus much I
adventure to write unto your lordship, whom I
beseech to keep this in your own custody, or else
to commit it to the fire." *"
Another occurrence, trivial under other cir
cumstances, seemed to indicate that no harmony
was likely to exist between Charles and VUliers.
One day, as they were walking in the gardens of
Greenwich Palace, they approached a fountain,
« Inedited State Papers. Domestic, 1616, 1617.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 131
near which was a statue of Bacchus : this figure
ivas so constructed, after the fashion of ancient
waterworks, that, by touching a spring, the water
was emitted. The Prince, grave as he usuaUy
appeared, was that day in high spirits. He
touched the spring, the water spouted forth, and
suffused the face of the favourite. VUliers
was greatly offended. The King took his part,
not only reproving severely his son, but adding
the father's correction of two boxes on the
ears. Those who stood by were certain that this
boyish frolic and its termination would ruin
VUUers with the Prince. That it did not, Is a
proof of the good disposition of Charles, who,
perhaps, did not the less admire Villiers because
he had resented an act of impertinence even
from an heir apparent.*' /
The partiality which James now openly mani
fested for ViUiers drew down upon him the
animadversions of the world; and when he
trusted him as the associate ef his son. Invec
tives were loud and frequent. Although it was
the fashion of the day to impute to the sovereign
the vrisdom ef Solomon, lamentations were
poured forth upon the unworthiness ef those in
whom he confided. " Is it not prodigious," writes
« Inedited letter in the State Paper Office, March 8, 1616,
adckessed to Sir Dudley Carleton.
k2

132 LIFE AND TIMES OP
one historian, " that a Prince, who was as wise as
the beloved son of David, should commit the
reins of government te a caUew youth, of no more
capacitythan is enough toquaUfyamodern beauf'*^
"For an old king," observes Roger Coke, "he
having reigned in England and Scotland fifty-
one years, to doat upon a young favourite scarce
of age, yet younger in understanding, though old
in vice as any of his time, and to commit the
whole ship of the commonwealth by sea and land
to such a Phaeton, is a precedent without any
example."*^ Not only ViUiers, it is added, but
even his mother, began now to influence aU
matters of public concern; no places were dis
posed of without her consent, and as much court
was paid to her as to her son.**
Many ofthe animadversions thus thrown upon
ViUiers proceeded from the laxity of his moral
code. On this point, the accusations brought
forward are vague, and therefore difficult to be
repelled. They were, in some instances, the
effect of a general impression that ViUiers was a
friend ef Laud and a favourer of Armenlanism ;
and originated with the Puritans.
No instance of great dereliction from propriety
« Oldmixon's History of England, p. 81.
"Roger Coke's Detection.
" Oldmixon.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 133
being recorded, it may be safely inferred that at
this time public decorum was, at all event?,
not outraged by ViUiers, whatever the private
course of his existence may have been ; and hew-
ever humiUating it is to reflect that a character
so noble, se incapable ef baseness, of such fair
promise, may yet have been tinged with vices
that infallibly brush away much ofthe finest attri
butes of virtuous youth, it must, at the same time,
be aUowed, that te remain Incorrupt in the reign of
James, would have argued almost super-human
strength of character.
"Nothing," relates Arthur WUson, "but bravery
and feasting, the parents of debauchery and riot
ing, flourished among us. There is no theme for
history where men spiU more drink than blood."
And he justly remarks that the boasted Halcyon
days of peace cease to be a blessing when they
" bring a curse" vrith them ; the curse of licentious
pleasures and disgraceful idleness ; and that thus
war is more happy in its effects than peace, " if it
takes the distemper that grows by long surfeit
vrithout destroying the body." *^
In spite, however, of the animadversions of fees,
and the stUl more injurious temptations proffered
by unworthy friends, the public character of Buck
ingham maintained fer some time its integrity.
" Wilson's History of the Reign of James I.

134 LIFE AND TIMES OP
His errors, real or imputed, were not at first such
as to lower him in the eyes of society. He appeared,
as Lord Clarendon observes, " the most glorious
star that ever shined in any court; insomuch that
all nations persecuted him with love and wonder,
as fast as the King with fancy ; and to his last
he never lost any of his lustre."*^
His mother assisted in the aggrandizement of
her favourite son. It was her office to teach his
kindred, as fast as they came up to the metropoUs,
"to put on a court dress and air." The King,
who had hitherto hated women, soon began to
have his palace crowded with the female relations
of VlUIers ; " little children did run up and down
the royal apartments Uke rabbit-starters about
their burrows." And the monarch, who could
never endure his queen or his ov^n famUy near him,
made no remonstrance at this inconvenience, whilst
the censorious, who decided that the favourite
had no merit except that " he looked well, dressed
well, and danced weU," were outrageous in their
wrath. So well, indeed, did he "look," that
James, more and more enchanted with that open
and beaming countenance, gave him the name of
" Steenle," in aUusion to one of the pictures in
WhitehaU, by an Italian master, representing the
first martyr, Stephen.
*' ReUquise Wottonianse, p. 194.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 135
VUUers now enjoyed the different dignities and
offices of Viscount VilUers, Baron of Whaddon,
Justice in OIre of all the forests and parks beyond
Trent, Master ef the Horse, and Knight of the
Garter. But these were not sufficient in the sight
of James. On the seventh of January, the favou
rite was created Earl of Buckingham, upon such
short notice, that the drums and trumpets which
should have been in the Chamber of Presence, at
Whitehall (but not have sounded), were net in at
tendance. Villiers, in his surcote and hood, in an
ordinary hat, and with his rapier, passed from
the CouncU Chamber, over the terrace, through
the great gateway, into the Chamber of Presence.
He was assisted by the Earl of Suffolk, Lord
Treasurer, and the Earl of Worcester, afterwards
the gaUant defender of Raglan Castle, aU in robes
and coronets. The Lord Chamberlain met them at
the door ef the Presence Chamber, where VUliers
was duly presented to the King and Queen. The
ceremonial, at which he figured alone, no other
peer being created, was not foUowed by a supper,
and therefore, adds Camden, " no style with
largess proclaimed." *^
This new honour enabled its object te appear
" From an autograph MS. — Camden, quoted by
Nichols, vol. iii., p. 233.

136 LIFE AND TIMES OF
with stlU greater splendour and importance, at the
performance of the new masque of Christmas, by
Ben Jonson ; It was represented on Twelfth night,
and amongst the performers were Richard Bar-
badge, an original performer in several ef Shake
speare's plays, and John Heminge, who signed the
"address to the reader"of Shakespeare's foUo works.
In the course of the masque, the Earl of Buck
ingham danced vrith the Queen ; and soon after
wards the society of the Middle Temple strove to
concUiate him by entertaining him vrith a supper
and a masque.*^ At the end of the month
Buckingham was made a Privy Councillor,
the youngest man that had ever received that
honour. He also contrived to get his brother
Christopher made either one of the Grooms or
one of the Gentlemen of the Bedchamber,
upon which creation the foUovring rhyme was
circulated : —
¦" It was suggested that Villiers might have been entered
at the Middle Temple, but of that circumstance there is
no evidence. " Not knowing the sacred antiquitie of
anie of their houses, the chronicler set downe their names
in the same order as that in which they were presented to
his Majestie.'' See Nichols, ui. 213, from Howe's Chroni
cle. It is weU known that in former times only men of
gentle birth were entitled to be entered as students of law
in the Temple — a reUc of the statutes maintained in
strict force by the Knights' Templars.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 137
"Above the skies shall Gemini rise,
And twins the Court shaU pester;
George shaU back his brother Jack,
And Jack his brother Kester.""
It was about this time, probably, that Bucking
ham was first beheld drawn about in that coach
with six horses, which was not only wondered
at as a novelty, but " Imputed to him as a master
ing pride." He had already excited the indig
nation of the English public by his appearance
in a sedan chair ; and when seen carried upon
men's shoulders, the populace raised an out
cry against him in the streets, "loathing," says
Arthur WUson, "that men should be brought to
as servUe a condition as horses." The chair was,
however, forgiven, and soon sedans came into
general use. But the coach was the theme
of every tongue ; it was not that the vehicle
was strange to the people, for it had been intro
duced in the late reign, but then only two horses
were used ; and when Buckingham, in all his
bravery of attire, was beheld drawn by six pranc
ing steeds, acclamations were general. The eld
Earl of Northumberland heard these murmurs
In his prison in the Tower, and resolved that,
should he ever recover his liberty, he would outvie
the favourite. Accordingly, when in 1621 he was set
" Nichols, 244.

138 LIFE AND TIMES OF GEOEGE VILLIEES.
at Uberty, he appeared In the city of London, and
at Bath, with eight horses; as much to the amuse
ment, probably, of him whom he strove to outvie,
as te the amazement of the admiring pubUc.^" It
required, indeed, no ordinary fortune to keep up this
state ; and the King so much disapproved of ex
pensive equipages In any but the great, that he sub
sequently entertained a notion of imposing a tax of
401, per annum, on all who, below a certain degree,
kept a coach, and of bestowing the proceeds of
the tax on decayed captains.^'
Ne clamours affected Buckingham long during
this period of his Ufe ; for, although there were
occasionally some boisterous demonstrations of dis
approval, the affections of the majority ofthe people
returned to him shortly after a temporary unpopu
larity. And here, observes Lord Clarendon, in his
paraUel between the Earl of Essex and Bucking
ham, "the fortunes of our great personages met
when they were both the favourites of the princes,
and of the people. But their affections to the
Duke of Buckingham were very short lived." °^
="> Brydges's Peers of James I.
=^' State Papers, vol. cix., 26. See Calendars of State
Papers, edited by Mrs. Everett Green.
»2 ReUquise Wottonianse, 195.

CHAPTER IV.
THE king's PROJECTS  A JOURNEY TO SCOTLAND —
OBSTACLES TO THAT INTENTION — WANT OP MONEY
— £100,000 RAISED IN THE CITY  DISLIKE OP THE
PEOPLE TO THIS JOURNEY, ON ACCOUNT OP EXPENSE
— JAMES SETS OUT, MARCH IStH, 1616-1617  HIS
ATTENDANT COURTIERS, SIR JOHN ZOUCH, SIR GEORGE
GORING, SIR JOHN PINETT — CHARACTERISTICS OP
EACH — SURPASSING QUALITIES OP BUCKINGHAM 
OBJECTS OP JAMES'S JOURNEY TO EDINBURGH 
ANECDOTE OF LORD HOWARD OP WALDEN — DISPUTA
TIONS AT ST. ANDREWS — THE KING KNIGHTS MANY
OP THE YOUNG COURTIERS — OPPENOE GIVEN AT
EDINBURGH BY LAUD — A PROJECT TO ASSASSINATE
BUCKINGHAM SUSPECTED — JAMES'S PROGRESS CON
CLUDED — HIS VISIT TO WARWICK — APPAIRS RELATING
TO SIR EDWARD COKE AND HIS PAMILY — BASE CON
DUCT OP ALL THE PAETIES CONCERNED — MEANNESS
OP BACON — HIS LETTERS — FRANCES HATTON  CON
TRAST BETWEEN HEE AND THE EAEL OP OXFORD
BROUGHT PORWAED BY LADY HATTON — COKE RE--
STORED TO FAVOUR — MARRIAGE OF FEANCES HATTON
TO LORD PURBECK.

141

CHAPTER IV.
Eaelt in the year 1616-17, James determined
to risit Scotland — a resolution which was opposed,
somewhat to the displeasure of the King, by
Buckingham. But the King was soon pacified,
and the joumey was decided upon. Some obstacles
existed ; for instance, the want of money, which
was to be borrowed from rich citizens before the
monarch's project could take place; then it was
expected to prove a "hard journey," for it was
thought the Court would reach the North before
there would be grass for their horses ; and even
the Scots expressed a wish that the risitation
might be deferred.'^
The entertainment given to Monsieur de la
" Nichols, iii., p. 245.

142 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Tour, the Ambassador Extraordinary from the
French King, delayed somewhat this freezing
expedition. At length, it was decided that James
should set out on the twenty-second of February ;
though money came in slowly ; and it was found
extremely difficult to raise the sum of 100,000Z. in
the metropoUs. " Yet," observes a contem
porary, " there Is much urging, and In the end it
must be done, though men be never so much dis
couraged." To propitiate the presiding Lord
Mayor, he was knighted, and received, with his
companions, the King's thanks for the 100,OOOZ.
in prospect, which was, however, to be raised,
nolens volens, whilst men of low condition were
called in to bear the burden.
It was not until the thirteenth of March that
the King and Queen, with Prince Charles, re
moved to Theobalds, preparatory to the progress
of James northwards. Never was undertaklnff so
o
much disliked by the generality ef the people,
chiefly on account ef the immense expense which
It Involved. It was now fourteen years since his
Majesty had visited his Scottish dominions. " He
began the journey," says WUson, "with the
spring, warming the country, as he went, with tbe
glories of the Court;" and carrying with him
those boon companions who best could shorten the
way, and consume the nights by their pranks and

GEOEGE VILLIERS. 143
buffoonery. These were Sir George Goring,
Sir Edward Zouch, and Sir John Finett — men
"who could fit and obtemperate the King's
humour ; " and it may, therefore, be readily sup
posed what description of gentlemen they were.
Sir George Goring was a native of Hurst-per-
point, in Sussex, in which county his descendants
stUl flourish. He had been brought up in the
Court of Queen Elizabeth, his father being one of
the gentlemen pensioners ; and had been gentle
man in ordinary to Prince Henry. He now went
as lieutenant ef the gentlemen pensioners, and
accordingly was despatched with others of that
band by sea.^* Goring had attracted the regard
of James by his sound sense and vein of jocular
humour ; like Sir Edward Zouch and Sir John
Finett, he was the " chief and master fool " of the
Court — sometimes " presenting David Dromore
and Archie Armstrong, the King's fools, on the back
of other fools, tUl they feU together by the ears,
and fell one over another." Goring, like his col
leagues in his respectable employment, is said to
have get mere by his fooling than other people
did by their wisdom ; he was, indeed, regarded as
a sert of minor favourite, yet Buckingham
evinced no jealousy of him, and procured him,
in 1629, the title of Baron Goring, of Hurst-
" Nichols, vol. iii., p. 248.

144 LIFE AND TIMES OF
pierre-point.55 Finett and Zouch were equaUy
expert with Goring in "antick" dances, dis
guises in masqueradoes, and extemporary foolery ;
but in this last accomplishment Sir John MiUicent,
whose name is not among the King's retinue in
Scotland, exceUed them all; and was the "most
commended for notable fooUng,"*^ It was found,
however, impossible to surpass Buckingham in
the accompUshment of dancing. His grace, and
the fondness he showed fer the pastime, brought
it into fashion. " No man," writes an his
torian, " dances better ; no man runs or jumps
better; and, indeed, he jumps higher than ever
EngUshman did in so short a time — from a
private gentleman to a dukedom." ^^ He now
reigned sole monarch In the King's favour ; and
everything he did was admired " for the doer's
sake." The king was never contented, except
when near him ; nor could the Court grandees be
well out of his presence ; aU petitions, therefore,
" whether for place or office, for Court or Com
monwealth, were addressed to him."
'= In 1645, he was advanced to the Earldom of Nor
wich. He died in 1662, leaving his title to George
Goring, the celebrated loyaUst, of whom so masterly a
portrait has been drawn by Clarendon.
"i Nichols, ii. p. 38, note; apud Sir Anthony Weldon.
" Kennet's England, vol. u. p. 708.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 145
The King proceeded by easy journeys of ten,
twelve, and seventeen miles a day northwards.
It Is curious to flnd him resting a day and a night
at the home of Sir Oliver CromweU of Hinchin-
brook, near Huntingdon.^^ At Lincoln, he healed
fifty persons ef the EvU, a gracious act which was
succeeded by an attendance upen a cock-fighting,
at which His Majesty was very merry. This
diversion was varied by horse-racing.
On his arrival near Edinburgh, the King took
up his arrival at Seton House, the seat of the Earl
of Wintoun, whose famUy continued to be faithful
to the descendants of James during the calamitous
contest between the modem Stuarts and the
Hanoverians. James remained in Scotland until
the fifth of July, when he returned by the west
coast ef Scotland to Carlisle.
The three great objects of his Majesty's
journey to Scotland, were the extension of epis
copal authority ; the establishment of some cere
monials in religion; and the elevation of the civil
above the ecclfesiastic authority.*' It does net,
however, appear that Buckingham took any
active part In these designs, or that he was at this
period regarded in any other light than as one of
the ministering agents to the amusement of
ss Nichols, iii., p. 258.
=» Hume's Hist, of England, in., 83.
VOL. I. L

146 LIFE AND TIMES OP
James's vacant hours. It is possible that he may
have viewed Scotland vrith that prejudice with
which the EngUsh at that time regarded that
nation. The revenues ef that country being then
insufficient to maintain the Govemment, Buck
ingham probably deemed it, as others did,
nothing but a drain upon the resources of Eng
land — a barren ground from which "a beggarly
rabble (like a fluent spring)," to use the words of
Osborne, " was fer ever to be found crossing the
River Tweed."^" Thenational prejudice wasUkevrise
considerably strengthened by the King's favourite,
but abortive scheme of union between the two
crowns; thus dividing the kingdom into halves, so
that he, " a Christian king under the gospel, should
ne longer be a polygamist to two wives, under which
discreditable imputation he conceived that the
partition of the kingdom placed him.^' Whether
Buckingham may have been propitiated by the hos
pitality ef the Scots or not, or whether he theught
with Sir Anthony Weldon that " the country was
tee good for them that possess it, and tee bad fer
others to be at the charge to conquer it," does not
appear. In some passages ef the Royal Progress
it is mest likely that the young courtier found but
little deUght. At St. Andrews, disputations in
'° Osborne's Tradit., Memorials of King James, p. 422.
•' Somers's Tracts, 83

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 147
divinity, and at Stirling in philosophy, were
honoured by the King's presence. They
were delivered by some members of the Uni
versity of Edinburgh, and were to have been
held in the college there, had not public business
interfered."^^ For a time the presence of James In Scotland
produced aU the good effects which the aspect of
royalty generally ensures. The English became
extremely popular In the northern capital, then
rarely visited by the great and fashionable.
" We hear little out of Scotland," writes Mr. Cham
berlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, " but that the Par
liament is now beginning, and that our English
are extraordinarily respected, and friendly to the
nobles, to whom the King makes much caresses,
and receives them as his guests. The Earl of
Buckingham is made one of the council there, and
takes his place above the rest as Master of the
Horse. They speak that he shaU be made Mar-
«2 The subjects were these : — First, That sherifis and other
inferior magistrates should not be hereditary. With this,
James was so weU pleased that he turned to the Marquis
of Hamilton, Hereditary Sheriff of Clydesdale, and said,
"James, you see your cause is lost." Secondly, On the rate of
locomotion. The respondent in this disputation quoting
Aristotle, the King remarked, "These men know the
mind of Aristotle as well as he did himself when aUve."
Thirdly, On the origin of fountains or springs. l2

148 LIFE AND TIMES OP
quis of Scotland, and the Lord Compton an
Earl, to counterpoise the Scotch that have been
ennobled here." '=' James was indeed profuse be
yond measure In his titles during this progress.
" All our peers' sons that went vrith the King,"
adds the same vn-iter, " were knighted there that
were undubbed before, and aU the gentlemen of
Yorkshire, so that there is scarce left an esquire
te uphold the race, and the order Is descended
somewhat lower, even to Adam HUl, that was the
Earl of Montgomery's barber, and to one Jeane,
husband to the Queen's laundress, our host of
Doncaster; and te another that lately kept an inn
at Rumford ; and a youth, one Conir, is come into
consideration as to become a prince of favourites,
brought in by the Earl of Buckingham, and the
wags talk as if he were in possibUity to become
Viscount Conir. AU the mean officers of the
household are also said to be knighted, so that
ladies are Uke te be in little request." ^*
But it was not in the nature of things that
affairs should go on vrithout some inconveniences
and apprehensions, and great offence was given
in Scotland, when, at the funeral of one ofthe guard,
who was buried after the EngUsh ritual. Laud,
<« Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii., 367.
" State Paper Oflace, Domestic, 1616-1617.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 149
then Dean of St. Paul's, desired those assembled to
join him in recommending the soul of his de
ceased brother to Almighty God. He was after
wards obliged to retract, and to say that he had
done this In a sort of civility rather than accord
ing te rule. Another exception was taken at
his putting en a white surplice just at that
part of the funeral service when the body was
going to be put into the ground. The Dean of the
royal chapel in Edinburgh also refused to receive
the communion whilst Dr. Laud was kneeling.^'*
During his residence In Edinburgh, the life of
Buckingham was said to be endangered by a plot
to assassinate him, a prelude, as it seemed, te the
tragic doom which he afterwards encountered.
In a letter from Sir Thomas Lake to Sir Ralph
Winwood, dated from Brougham Castle, and writ
ten on the seventh of August, 1617, he thus refers
to the peril which threatened the favourite : —
" AU the news which is here, is that many lords
have been busied about a feUow who, in his
drink, spake some words as though he had an
intention to kill my Lord of Buckingham. He
Is one of the guard ef Scotland, his name is
Carre, and said his intention was for that his
lordship was the cause ef Somerset's dismission.
ss Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton.
Domestic, June 21, 1621. State Paper Office.

150 LIFE AND TIMES OP
He has, since his being sober, confessed his words
to my Lord of Lennox. I came out from the
last house before some ef the eld lords of Scotland
had done with him, and therefore can yet say no
more to you. The words were spoken in Scot
land. Seme of my Lord ef Buckingham's friends
de doubt Carre was but set on."
On the twenty-seventh of the same month, the
culprit had, it appears, proceeded far on his jour
ney southward, as a prisoner, to take his trial in
London for his meditated crime. " On Saturday
last," writes Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley
Carleton, "here past, by Ware, ene Carre, a
Scottish gentleman, being suspected and charged
(together with four ethers of that family and
name) to have conspired the death of the Earl of
Buckingham, at his coming out of Scotland, and
so was apprehended near CarUsle.^
Ne further notice of this affair occurs in the
correspondence from which it Is derived ; and it
is possible that the plot was inferred frem the
hasty expressions of offended clansmen, and was
found, on investigation, to be without sufficient
proof to bring it inte a court of law.
«" Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton,
August 27, 1617, dated. Ware Park. No mention is
made of this attempt in any of the biographies of Bucking
ham. State Paper Office, Domestic.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 151
Among the English peers who visited Scotland,
the least popular was Lord Howard of Walden,
eldest son of the Earl of Suffolk. This nobleman
enjoyed the especial favour of King James ; his
name occurs in most of the courtly festivities ef
the day, as one appointed to appear foremost in
aU stately revels, and he received a more sub
stantial proof of royal preference in being called
to the House of Lords in the lifetime of his
father. In the north, however, he was detested,
chiefly on account ef his ill usage ef his wife,
EUzabeth, daughter of George, Lord Harris, Earl
ef Dunbar, and likevrise from his accustomed
boasting of his influence vrith Buckingham, for
it was a favourite saying of Lord Howard's,
"that he, and none other, had an especial
interest in the favourite."
Lord Howard seems te have been a mark at
which the courtiers aimed their shafts of wit and
ridicule ; it was during the journey into Scotland
that he came into collision with a nobleman of a
very different character, James, second Marquis
of Hamilton. This nobleman enjoyed, in a very
uncommon degree, the confidence and esteem of
his royal master, who was accustomed to call him
familiarly by his Christian name. He held the
office of Lord Steward of the Household, and
Privy Councillor; and, in that capacity, was

162 LIFE AND TIMES OF
doubtless often surprised, if net irritated, by the
precedence and latitude given to Buckingham.
By his countrymen, the Marquis was considered
" te be the gaUantest gentleman in aU Scotland."
The foUowing account is characteristic of the
mingled idleness and dissension of a courtier's
life :-
" Riding one day with the king, a-hunting, he,
Lord Howard of Walden, asked the Marquis of
Hamilton whether he were ever in leve. He
answered. Yes. What effects wrought it? saith
he. His answer was. It made him fat, saucy, and
ignorant. Other speeches passed just Uke this,
but I proceed to the quarrels he had vrith him.
The Marquis of Hamilton hath a page, whom my
Lord Hay did Uken, for his fairness of face, to
the second daughter of the Lord Burghley,
Mrs. Diana CecU, admired so much by the Lord
Walden, except he were unmarried. After my
Lord Hay's departure thence, the Marquis, the
Favourite, and Lord Walden being at dinner
together, and the boy waiting at the table, the
Marquis and my Lord Buckingham whispered
and laughed, to which my Lord Walden said he
knew what they laughed at, and that he, that said
s' Letter from George Garrard to Sir Dudley Carleton,
London, August 18th, 1617, from inedited State Papers.
See also Brydges's Peers of James I., p. 160.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 153
that, was but a fool. To which the Marquis re
pUed that, ' were he a roaring boy, he would have
flung a glass of ^\Tne in his face.' It was my
Lord Hay had said it. He was his friend, and a
noble gentleman, whom, In his absence, he would
not have wronged, and, therefore, bid him, before
he should answer it, draw his sword. But my
Lord ef Buckingham so talked vrith these lords
that after dinner he did reconcUe this business,
the Lord Walden acknowledging him now, upon
better consideration, to be a noble gentleman, and
that he knew no ether of my Lord Hay. This
business fell out nigh a month before the king's
coming from Scotland, though it came not to my
knowledge since a week before the king's depar
ture there, at what time the Marquis Hamilton
was on the point to be sworn a counciUor.
The Lord Walden, remembering some of these
former passages, and thinking to stop the con
ferring of this honour upon him, as is said, did
acquaint Sir Edward Villiers, that the Marquis
should say that if my Lord of Buckingham did
not dispatch that business for him, ef conferring
the councUlorship, that he would cut his throat,
vrishing him to tell it his brother, which he did ;
so that, when he met the Marquis, the Lord of
Buckingham questioned him of that, who pres
ently demanded the author, which he told him.

154 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Then the Marquis departed, and presently sent
the Lord Buckhurst to seek out the Lord Walden,
with a challenge as was thought, but he could not
be found. In the end he came te my Lord of
Buckingham's chamber, where, it is said, he
lamented by Ul fortune to have these words
spoken again, and from thence did net depart
untU by acknowledgments the quarrel was recon
cUed." Buckingham appears, on this occasion, to have
acted a kind and sensible part. His utmost dis
cretion was soon called upon In an affair upon
which the annals ef the time ring changes, and
the details of which present the most curious
Combat of wordly passions, and the most fatal
results of misdirected influence, that can be con
ceived. In spite of a " fearful dream" ef Queen Anne's,
reported to James as a warning, his progress was
not shortened. He spent several days at Brougham
Castle, the residence of Francis CUfford, fourth
Earl of Cumberland, whose daughter, the cele
brated Anne Clifford, afterwards repaired the
castle, which suffered during the civil wars ; but
which, so vain were her exertions, has since been
permitted to fall into ruins. The expenses entaUed
by the king's visit, including the music performed
in his presence, were considerable, and helped to

GEOEGE VILLIERS. 155
ruin the lord of the castle, an easy, Improvident
man, whese allusion to the tax imposed by this
royal visitation is almost touching. " I fynde
plainly," he thus wrote to his son, " upon better
consideration, that the charge for that entertain
ment wUl grew very great, besyde the musick,
and that instead of lessening, my charge in gene
ral encreaseth, and new palments come on which
vrithout better providence hereafter cannot be
performed." ^* In his progress from one mansion or
manor-house to another, James visited several
of those families whose names became afterwards
distinguished among the adherents of his unfor
tunate son. At Heghton Tower, in Lancashire,
at that time the principal seat of the Heghton
family, but now unhappily a ruin, still containing
an apartment called King James's room; though the
monarch is said te have conferred the honeur ef
knighthood, which he had dispensed very freely
during his progress upon his subjects, on the
loin of beef, that act being also one of the last
achievements of his journey. He visited also
Lathom House, the seat of the Stanleys ; and was
received with great demonstrations of respect and
joy at Stafford, where the Earl ef Essex, who lived
In an honoured retirement at Chartley Castle,
«» Nichols, vol. iii., p. 392, from Whltaker's Hist, of
Craven.

156 LIFE AND TIMES OF
rode before him Into the town. At Warwick,
he was entertained by Sir Fulke GrevIU, who
was then the master of Warvrick Castle, which
he had found, on taking possession of it. In a
ruinous state, and used as a county jall.^* In the
hall of Leicester Hospital, that charitable foun
dation, endowed by Robert Dudley, Earl ef Lei
cester, for twelve Brethren, James was entertained
with a supper ; an event of which a tradition stUl
remains attached to the half-monastic institution
in which it occurred. Sir Fulke GrevIU had his
own private motives to induce him to extend his
marks ef respect to Buckingham, as weU as to
the king; for, shortly afterwards, we find him
a suitor to the niece of Buckingham, Lady An-
«' Nichols, iii., p. 434. In the harangue addressed to the king
on his entrance into Warwick, there is this passage : —
" This castle, alsoe moste desirous to receive you, the
greatest guest that ever she entertained, would speake in
noe lower key, but that her late disgrace abateth her courage.
After shee became the jaylor's lodge, interchanging the
goulden ohaines of her noble erle's with the iron fetters
of wretched prisoners, given over to be inhabited by battes
and owles, she is ashamed to speake before you." Nichols's,
vol. iu., p. 431.
This speech was transcribed for Nichols's Progresses, by
the late WiUiam Hamper, Esq., F.S.A., from the Black
Book of Warwick, a book preserved by the corporation.
Sir Fulke Grevill spent 20,OOOZ. in restoring the Castle
with its pleasaunce and gardens. To his care the preserva
tion of that interesting structure is due.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 157
derson, for her hand.'" There can be no doubt,
but that James and Buckingham visited War
wick Castle, but were not entertained there on
account of its ruinous condition.
WhUst Buckingham was in Scotland, overtures
were made to reconcUe certain differences between
him and Sir J^dward^Coke, then Lord Chief Jus
tice in England. In order to comprehend the
conduct which the favourite pursued in relation
to that celebrated man, it becomes necessary to
reriew a series of occurrences which had hap
pened previously to the Scottish journey; to
enter, Ukewise, into the topics of the day;
and, above all, to refer to the prejudices of
the king, and the resistance made to them by
an honest, though a harsh, individual. These
considerations are mixed up with matters of ap
parently private interest ; yet are necessary
to be unfolded, when the conduct of VUliers,
and the history of his family, are the subject of
narrative. It wiU be remembered that the chief interest
which James derived frem the representation of
the play of " Ignoramus " had arisen from the
ridicule cast upon the practice of the common
law. In several passages ef that drama. Sir
Edward Coke was supposed to be particularly
"Birch's MSS., 4173.

158 LIFE AND TIMES OF
alluded to.'' This great lawyer had, In various
ways, given offence ; he had termed the royal
prerogative, in one of his speeches in Parliament,
"a great overgrown monster;" and he had dis
played a courage which redeemed his character
from many ofits demerits, by insinuating that the
common law of England was In charge of being
perverted. On two ether notable points Coke
had also offended the king; the one being the
famous dispute respecting the Court of Chancery;
the other, the still more celebrated case of the
Cemmendams.'^ In the former matter, the con
duct of Coke is allowed to have been highly dis
creditable to him and his associates ; in the latter,
te have merited the warmest admiration.
Whatever view the public may have taken of
these transactions, they formed the first plea for
that ruin of Coke to which Buckingham Is said
to have given an impetus, by the intrusion of his
" Nichols, vol. iii., p. 90.
" " The Court of Chancery," says the author ofthe Life
of Sir Edward Coke (pubUshed for the Society for the Dif-
fusionof Useful Knowledge), " had long exercised a jurisdic
tion, which had formed one of the articles against Wolsey, of
revising and correcting judgments which had been obtained
in the courts of common law." It was not until the reign
of James, that this privilege had been called into question.
Sir Edward Coke, who was tenacious ofthe authority of the
Common Law Courts, and the twelve judges, gave it as
their opinion, that Chancery had no such power ; and that

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 159
ovni interests upon the royal ear, '^ at this crisis
of Coke's destiny. The King, summoning the
Lord Chief Justice and the twelve judges to the
councU at Whitehall, delivered his opinions con
cerning their conduct in an harangue, in which he
declared " that ever since his coming to the
crown, the popular sort of lawyers had been the
men that most effrontedly had trodden upon his
prerogative;"'^ and, having expatiated upon their
offences with his usual pedantry and proUxity,
he dismissed them, declaring " that in his protec
tion of them, and expediting of justice, he would
walk in the steps ef the ancient and best of
kings."' The firmness vrith which Coke con
ducted himself during the whole of this affair,
whUst it won him a popularity which he would
never othervrise have acquired, prepared the way
for those who, from interested motives, sought
his ruin, and, combined vrith his zeal and acute-
an appeal from a judgment at law could not be made except
to Parliament. To this decision proceedings were instituted
against the judges in the Star Chamber. The conduct of
the judges and of the chief -justice in this matter, has been
generally condemned.
" See an able Life of Sir Edward Coke, pubUshed by
the Society for the Diffusion of Knowledge, p. 8. -Also,
Lord CampbeU's Lives of the Chief Justices, Art. Coke,
vol. i., p. 287.
" Ibid.

160 LIFE AND TIMES OF
ness in the triail of Lord and Lady Somerset —
an acuteness which the King, it Is rumoured, had
secret reasons to dread — completely undermined
his credit at court.
In the Intrigues which tended to ruin Coke,
Buckingham certainly participated.'* The first
Instance of rapacity In the young favourite is
discernible at this period. Sir Plenry Roper had
for many years enjoyed the place of Chief Clerk
for enrolling the pleas of the King's Bench ; it
was supposed to be worth 4000Z. per annum.
Being advanced In age. Sir Henry was disposed
to relinquish the appointment, on condition of
being made Lord Teynham, receiring the salary
during his life. Buckingham seized this oppor
tunity of improving his fortunes. He appUed for
the reversion of this office to be granted to two
of his trustees during their lives — an application
which had been successfuUy made by the Earl of
Somerset formerly.'^ But the Lord Chief Jus
tice stood in the way of this surrender on the part
of Roper, and also of the proposed arrangement.
He answered, upon first being solicited, " that he
was old, and could not struggle "• — a reply which
" Bacon's Letters, vol. ii., p. 85; taken from the Intro
duction to Bacon's Works by Stephens, p. 47.
"> Biographia, Art. Coke.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 161
was regarded as a compliance." But when Sir
Henry Roper actuaUy surrendered the situation,
and was created Lord Teynham, Coke changed his
tone, and stated that, since the salaries of the
judges in his court were very low, it would be
desirable to increase them by the revenues of this
office, which was at his disposal. Upen this, it
was resolved by the King and his favourite to
remove him, and to substitute on the Bench a
mere compUant judge. The avowed plea of this
iniquitous proceeding was the conduct of Coke
in the affair of the Commendams ; but its real
cause was his non-compliance vrith the views of
Buckingham. Bacon, vrith his usual subserviency,
augmented by his hatred of Coke, wrote to Vil
Uers : " For Roper's place, 1 would have it by all
means despatched, and therefore I marvel it lln-
gereth." The " thing," he declared, was so rea^
sonable, "that it ought to be done as soon as
said." Unhappily for Coke, he thought other
wise. It is hardly possible to conceive a line ef con
duct more degrading than that which Buckingham
pursued in the whole of this affair. He forfeited
by it aU the credit due te him for the rejection of
Sherbome,and theprincipleof whichhe had boasted,
that he would not rise upon the ruins ef others, was
" Biographia, Art. Coke, from Bacon's Works.
VOL. I. M

162 LIFE AND TIMES OF
already effaced from his memory. Upon the third
of October, 1616, Coke was desired to desist from
the service of his place.'^ This intimation of a dis
graceful act had come suddenly, for, on the week be
fore, the King had been at a great entertainment,
given by Lord Exeter at Wimbledon, and the
Lady Hatton, the wife of the Lord Chief Justice,
was there, and " well-graced, for the King had
kissed her twice :" but this, it seems, was " but a
lightening." On the foUowing Sunday, Sir Edward
Coke was sequestered from the council table, and
prohibited from riding his circuit, his place being
suppUed by Sir Randolph Crew. "Some that
wish him well," adds a contemporary, "fear the
matter vrill not end here, for he is wilful and wiU
take no counsel, and not seeking te make good his
first errors, runs in worse, and entangles himself
more and more, and gives his enemies such advan
tage to work upon the King's indignation towards
him, that he is in great danger." Others scrupled
not to say that he had been too busy in the late
business (of Somerset), and had dived inte secrets
further than there was need. " It happens, also,
that he had not carried himself advisedly and
dutifully te His Majesty." '^ All these assigned
" Note to Bacon's Works, vol. ii., p. 85.
'» Nichols, vol. ii., p. 178 ; from Birch's MSS., vol. iv.,
p. 173.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 163
causes are points which tend somewhat to miti
gate the censures which must breast on Bucking
ham in this affair. Lady Hatton, too, a Cecil, but
not endowed with the prudence of that sagacious
famUy, and one of the fiercest of her sex, contri
buted to the dovrafall of her husband, by carrying
herself very indiscreetly te the Queen, who for
bade her the court. " The story," adds the same
chronicler, " were long to tell ; but it was about
braving and uncivil words to the Lady Compton,
George VUliers' mother, and vouching the Queen
for her author." As usual,'" to women was
attributed aU the far-spreading evil which pours
out of contention.
A letter addressed by Coke te Buckingham,
before his final removal from his pre-eminent
station, must, one would imagine, have touched a
harder heart than that of VUliers. Coke's words
are described as "now being humble enough."
His letter, though supplicatory, was not abject.
He thanked Buckingham for having, by his
honourable means, obtained a hearing for him.
He entered manfully into the defence of his book
ef reports, to which objections had been made,
which were the plea t>f his suspension from his
usual judicial duties, ," assuring his Lordship that
"> Bishop Goodman, vol. ii., p. 166.
M 2

164 LIFE AND TIMES OP
never any book was written of any human learn
ing that was net in some part or other subject to
exception." **
This remonstrance was dispatched to Bucking
ham at a time when the heart of the favourite
might have been softened by his own elevation,
and by the general joy. It reached him just
before the creation of Charles, Prince of Wales,
and contained a request that the deeply-humbled
Coke might be permitted te attend that ceremo
nial.*^ There is no record that the entreaty was
acceded to.
UntU the end of November (1616) the fate
ef the Lord Chief Justice was undecided.
The Queen, to her credit, and the Prince
Charles, were urgent in his behalf. And a rumour
now first began te prevail that the younger
brother of the favourite. Sir John VUUers, who
had an appointment in the Prince's household,
was to marry Sir Edward Coke's daughter, with a
dowry of 900?. in land from her father, and 2,100Z.
in land from Lady Hatton, together with Lord
Teynham's office ; but, in the meantime, the
Lord Chief Justice was, in his fortunes, affected
as it were with an " ague," which has an alternate

" Bishop Goodman, vol. ii., p. 166.
" Ibid.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 165
bad and good day.*^ The next report was that
Coke was " quite off the hooks," and that
orders had been sent to give him a super
sedeas. The jest of the day was that four P's
had lost him his place — Pride, Prohibitions,
Praemunire, and Prerogative.'* Shortly afterwards
he was superseded, and had the mortification of
knowing that Sir Henry Montagu, who was
appointed in his stead, went with great pomp
to Westminster HaU, accompanied by many
noblemen, to the number ef " fifty horse, the
whole fry ef the Middle Temple, and swarms
of lawyers and officers."'^ That was a day of
triumph for Buckingham.
The character of the most famous ef EngUsh
lawyers rose under this unmerited injury.'^ He
bore his misfortune with calm dignity. It
is related of him that when the new Chief
Justice sent to buy from him his coUar ef
S.S., he answered that he would not part
vrith it, but would leave it to his descendants,
that they might know that one day they had
a Chief Justice te their ancestor. A remark
able popularity foUowed his degradation. Sir
»= Nichols, from Birch's MS., p. 4172.
" Ibid.
«' Ibid, p. 227.
»« Amos's Great Oyer of Poisoning, p. 418

166 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Edward Coke was the first judge that had set
the example of independence en the bench ;
and his refusing te be tampered with in the
disposal of a lucrative office caused him to be
regarded as a martyr. Even the King, when he
intimated at the Privy CouncU his intention
to supersede Coke, did it vrith a sort of half
shame, declaring that he thought him " in ne
way corrupt, but a good justice," and adding " as
many compliments as If he had meant to hang
him with a silken halter." Such was the cor
ruption of the times, such the utter want of aU
honourable principle, that it was well known that,
had Coke been wise enough to take advantage
of the proposed match between his daughter and
Sir John ViUiers, "he would have been that
day Lord Chancellor." His avarice had been
the impediment to that marriage. A dowry of
10,OOOZ. had been asked vrith his daughter — he
had offered 10,000 marks, and " he had stuck at
1,000Z. a year during his life," letting fall certain
idle words, that he would net buy the King's
favour too dear, " being so uncertain and varia
ble.'"' The pubUc were at no loss, as Lord CampbeU
remarks, to account for the disgrace of Coke,
" Nichols, p. 227.
«» Ibid, p. 225.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 167
when they knew that his successor, before ac
cepting his office, was obliged to bind him
self to dispose of the chief clerkship for the
benefit of Buckingham, and when they saw two
trustees for Buckingham admitted to the place
as soon as the new Chief Justice was sworn
in. Such had been the state of affairs before
James and VUliers set out for Scotland ; durlnsr
their absence, the world was alternately amused
and disgusted by the proceedings ef Sir Edward
Coke and his lady, regarding the match pro
posed between Sir John Villiers and their daugh
ter. This celebrated judge was peculiarly un
happy in his domestic life. Lady Elizabeth
Hatton, his second wife, the sister of Thomas
Burleigh, Earl of Exeter, and the widov/ of
Sir Thomas Hatton, had brought him, along
vrith a large fortune, the unpleasant acquisition
of a partner violent, litigious, and uncrupu-
lous. The very commencement of the in
auspicious nuptials had been attended v\ith
trouble, the parties subjecting themselves to
many inconveniencies from the irregularity of
their marriage, which took place in a private
house, vrithout bans or licence. From the
moment that the knot was tied. Coke found in

168 LIFE AND TIMES OF
this irew connection nothing but misery. Neither
in private nor in public could his wife and he
abstain from the sharpest contentions.
Their daughter — that object which should most
surely have cemented a union — soon proved a
new source of the bitterest feuds.
When Buckingham was in Scotland, an over
ture was made to him on the part of Sir Edward
Coke, relating to the marriage of his youngest
daughter to Sir John VUliers, the elder brother
of the favourite. The proposal was made through
Secretary Winwood, the friend ef Coke, and
was, at first, eagerly accepted by Buckingham ;
but, although it had these good auspices, there
were obstacles which prevented its favourable
course. One of these was the dIsUke of the young
lady to her appointed suitor, who was diseased,
and troubled with a humour in his legs, and ac
counted not a long-lived man ; so that, as was
observed by Mr. Chamberlain, " there needed
so much ado to get him a wife." Another was
the jealousy of Lady Hatton. Incensed that
her husband should dare to dispose of her
daughter without her consent, she carried her
off, and secreted her in the house of Sir
Edmund Vfithipole, near Oatlands, in Surrey.
From that retreat, the young lady was re-

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 169
moved to the residence ef Archibald, seventh
Earl of Argyle, near Hampton Court.
Lady Hatton immediately hired a lodging in
the town of Kingston ; whence she was permitted
te risit her daughter, but not to sleep under the
same roof with her. " She kept her, however," ob
serves a contemporary writer, " such company, that
none else could have access to her." '^ This access
was moderated, and her creatures, whom she had
employed to take her daughter away, were ques
tioned and committed. Finding herself forsaken
by her friends, "who dared not show themselves
too far in the business, and seeing," adds the
same authority, " that she struggled in vain. Lady
Hatton began to come about." At this juncture,
Buckingham Interfered. He wrote a letter
which calmed the fury: she returned him an
answer, " that if this way had been taken
vrith her at first, they might have pro
ceeded better.''^" Her husband was, however,
now incensed beyond control. He procured a war
rant from Secretary Winwood, and fetched away
his daughter from Hampton Court, exceeding,
indeed, the terms ef his warrant, for he is
said to have broken open the doors of the house
" Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton. State
Paper Office. London, August 9th, 1617. Inedited.
" Nichols, iii., p. 371.

170 LIFE AND TIMES OP
to obtain her. Lady Hatton was quicklyengaged
In pursuit of him ; and " had not her coach
tired," as it is related, "there would soon have
been strange tragedies." ^'
Coke then conveyed his daughter to the care
of Lady Compton VUliers, but the next day
the clerk of the councU was sent to take
the custody of her, in his own house. The affair
was heard before the Privy CouncU, when a vio
lent contention amused the indifferent spectators,
and aggravated the hatred of the parties con
cerned. Lady Hatton, in her vehemence. Is
said to have declaimed with a force worthy
of Burbage, then the most popular actor of
the day. At last, after much wrangling, a
reconcUiation was effected. Lady Hatton was
induced, upon some conditions, to double
the portion which her husband had offered,
"and to make up the match and give it her
blessing." Lady Compton VUliers and her sons
repaired to Kingston, where they remained
two or three days, "which," adds the writer,
"makes the world think they grow te conclu
sion." The fact was, that finding she had
ne power to resist. Lady Hatton thought pro
per to give in vrith a good grace; thus
commanding better terms with Coke than a
"• Letter from Mr. Chamberlain, before quoted.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 171
further resistance would have procured, "and
so,"' adds Mr. Chamberlain, " defeat her hus
band's purposes, towards whom, of late, she had
carried herself very strangely, neither Uke a
wife nor a wise woman." ^^
Thus, Coke's " curst heart," as his wife termed
It, was forced to yield to terms which he had never
contemplated. The matter ended with the young
lady's being sent to Hatton House, with orders that
"Lady Compton and her son should have access
to win and wear her." MeanwhUe, all the world
expected that King James, whose minute In
terference in the affairs of his courtiers
equaUed that of Henry the Eighth, would have
mediated a peace between Sir Edward Coke
and his wife ; but James forbore, declaring that it
"was a thing of more time and more care than
he could afford to give the matter."
In this transaction, there is not a single
individual who does not appear to have har
boured some unworthy motive. Coke, not
vrithstandlng the faUure of his ovm matrimonial
schemes, was ready te wed his daughter to Sir
John VUliers, without the slightest regard to
her wishes and affectlons.^^ Buckingham, his
»2 Letter from Mr. Chamberlain, before quoted
"^ Stephens's Introduction to Bacon's letters, p. 42
Also Inedited Letters in the State Paper Offices
Domestic 1616, 17.

172 LIFE AND TIMES OF
mother, and his brother were actuated by the
most mercenary considerations. Lady Hatton
and her daughter were aiming at a younger son
of the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Robert Howard, who
was subsequently prosecuted for a criminal intrigue
with Frances Hatton, after she had become the
wife of Sir John Villiers.
During the height of her opposition, the
friends of Lady Hatton published a contract,
said to have been signed, in the presence of
her mother, by Frances Coke ; and whether real,
or merely contrived for the purpose of pre
venting the marriage with Sir John VilUers
(a precontract being in those days as great
an obstacle as a previous marriage), it is highly
characteristic of the parties concemed in it.
This curious document, from a young lady of the
seven, is as follows : —
"I vow before God, and take the Almighty
te vritness, that I, Frances Coke, younger
daughter ef Sir Edward Coke, late Lord
Cheife Justice of England, doe give myselfe ab
solutely te wife, to Henry Vere, Viscount Bal-
boke. Earl ef Oxenford, to whom I plight
my fayth, and inviolate vows, to keepe myselfe
till death us de part; and if ever I break off
the least of these, I pray God damme me
body and soule in heU fyre in the world to

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 173
come. And in thys worlde, I humbly beseech
God the earth may open and swallowe me up
quicke to the terror ef all fayth breakers that
remayne alive. In witness thereof, I have written
aU thys with my ovrae hand, and sealed yt vrith
my own seale (a hart crowned), which I wUl
ware till you returne to make it good that I
have sent you ; and for further assurance, I here
underneath sett te my name,
"Feances Coke,
" in the presence of my deare mother,
"Elizabeth Hatton.
" July 10th, 1617." "
But the meanest actor in this whole affair
was Francis Bacon. His jealousy and hatred of
Coke impelled him to oppose the marriage ; but
he made the greatest profession ef forwarding
it. He wrote on the subject te Buckingham,
in these terms : —
"Mt VEEY GOOD LOED,
Since my last to your lordship
I did first send te Mr. Attorney General,
and made him know that since I heard from
" Now first pubUshed from the State Paper Office.
Domestic, July 10, 1617.

174 LIFE AND TIMES OF
court, I was resolved to further the match and
conditions thereof, for your Lordship's brother's
advancement, the best I could."
He then detaUs his further exertions In
the matter; his apprising Lady Hatton and
seme other special friends that he would In
anything declare for the match ; his sending
Sir John Bulter^^ to Lady Compton VU
liers to tender his good offices; but even
whUst he made these overtures and premises
his courage flinched from abetting an event
which would give such influence to his old
enemy. Coke.
"I did ever foresee," he writes, "that this
aUiance would go near to lose me your lordship,
that I hold so dear, and that was the only respect
particular to myself that moved me to be as I
was, tlU I heard from you. But I wiU rely on
your constancy and nature, and my own deserv
ing, and the firm tie we have in respect of the
King's service." ^^
Well might the writer of this letter complain
that Lady Compton VUliers and her son. Sir
John, who saw through aU his professions, spoke
of him with some bitterness and neglect. They
"* A kinsman of Buckingham's.
" Nichols, 272.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 175
were, it appeared, under the influence of Sir Edward
Coke, and of Secretary Winwood, the latter of
whom Bacon " took to be the worst of his enemies.
But he resolved "to bear both with Lady Compton
ViUiers and her son — with her, as a lady ; with her
son, as a lover" — and ended by the exclamation :
— "God keep us from these long journeys and
absences, which make misunderstanding, and give
advantage to untruth ; and ever prosper and pre
serve your lordship ! "
Nevertheless, Bacon is supposed to have been
the instigator of certain proceedmgs in the Star
Chamber, which were commenced against Sir
Edward Coke, for what was called an outrage ;
although the carrying his daughter away were an
action justifiable by law ; and he quickly showed
how earnest was his determination to prevent the
match, by another letter to Buckingham. In this
he complained of the officious busying himself of
.Secretary Winwood, and asserted that it was done
rather to make a faction than out of any great
affection for Buckingham. " It Is true," he adds,
" he hath the consent of Sir Edward Coke (as we
hear) upon reasonable conditions for your brother,
and yet not better than, without question, may be
found in some other matches." He next states
the objections to the match.
" First, that Sir John VUliers would marry into

176 LIFE AND TIMES OP
a disgraced house, which in reason of state is
never held good.
"Next, he shall marry inte a troubled home
of man and wife, which in religion and Christian
discretion is disUked.
" Thirdly, that he should incur the almost certain
loss of friends, myself only excepted, who, eut ef a
pure love and thankfulness, shall be ever firm to
you. " And lastly and chiefly, the danger that would
be incurred ef lessening Buckingham's influence
with the King." He therefore recommended Buck
ingham to signify unto his mother, who seems to
have been the main-spring In the affair, that his
desire was that the marriage should not be pro
ceeded in without the consent of both parties,
thus making use of a plea in order to sound a
retreat frem the aUiance; but aU was in vain.
Bacon next addressed himself to the King.
He touched him in his weak part. " Your Mar
jesty's prerogative and authority have risen in
some just degrees above the horizon more than
heretofore, which has distiUed vapours; your
judges are in good temper; your justices ef
peace (which is the great body of the gentlemen
ef England) grew to be loving and obsequious,
and to be weary of this humour of ruffling ; aU
mutinous spirits grow to be a Uttle poer, and to

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 177
draw in their herns, and net the less for your
Majesty's disauthorising the man I speak of;"
now, then, I reasonably doubt that if there be but
an opinion of his coming in with the strength of
such an alUance, it vrill give a dovraward relapse
in men's minds unto the former state of things,
hardly to be helped, to the great weakening of
your Majesty's service. He is by nature unso
ciable, and by habit unpopular, and too old
to take a new place. And men begin already to
collect, yea, and to conclude that he that raiseth
such a smoke to get in, wiU set aU on fire when he
is In.s' Not content with these remonstrances. Bacon
threatened Winwood with a Pramunire for grant
ing the warrant ; but he was speedily checked by
the indignation of Buckingham, and consequently
by that of the King. Coke was reinstated in
the favour of the Monarch, and restored to his
place in the Privy Council, September 15, 1617.
He joined the Court on its journey from Scotland
at Woodstock, and " as if he were already on his
wings," to use the expression of Sir Henry Yel
verton, in his letter te Bacon, "triumphed exceed
ingly." 9' Coke.
"» These letters are taken from Mr. Montague's edition
of Bacon's works, vol. vii.. Bacon's Life, p. 16.
VOL. I. N

178 LIFE AND TIMES OP
The poor puppet, Frances Hatton, whose in
clinations, as Lord Campbell remarks, were as
little considered " as if she had been a Queen of
Spain under the influence of a Louis Philippe,"
was now commanded by her mother to write a
second letter, consenting to marry one who, in
thus espousing her, proved te be mest un
happy.
" Madam, "I must now humbly desire your
patience in giving me leave to declare myself
to you, which is, that vrithout your aUowance and
liking, aU the world shaU never make me en
tangle or tie myself. But new, by my father's
especial commandment, I obey him in presenting
te you my humble duty, in a tedious letter which
is to know your ladyship's pleasure, not as a thing
I desire, but I resolve to be wholly ruled by my
father and yourself, knowing your judgment to be
such that I may weU rely upon, and hoping that
conscience and the natural affection parents bear
to chUdren, wUl let you do nothing but for my
good, and that you may receive comfort, I being
a mere chUd, and not understanding the world,
nor what is good for myself. That which makes
me a little give way te it, is that I hope it wiU be
a means to procure a reconcUiation between my

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 179
father and your ladyship. Also, I think it wiU be
a means of the King's favour to my father.
Himself ^^ is net to be misliked, his fortune is very
good, a gentleman well born * * * * So I
humbly take my leave, praying that aU things
may be to every one's contentment,
" Your ladyship's most obedient,
" and humble daughter, for ever,
"Feances Coke.
" Dear Mother, — Believe, there has no
violent means been used to me by words or
deeds." »
There now remained nothing but to unite the
two young persons whose afiairs had become a
matter ef public interest. Accordingly, they
were married on Michaelmas day In the royal
chapel at Hampton Court, by the Bishop of Win
chester, having been tlirice publicly asked in
church, the King giving away "Mrs. Frances Coke
the bride:" the Queen was present, and Sir Edward
Coke brought the bride and bridegroom from his
son's house at, Kingston, vrith eight or nine coaches.
The consent of Lady Hatton was gained ; her
daughter protesting that, " although she liked Sir
«» Lord Purbeck.
» Life of Sir E. Coke, by Lord CampbeU.
n2

180 LIFE AND TIMES OF
John Villiers better than any one else, she was re
solved to keep a solemn promise made by her to
her mother, not te marry without her con
sent." 2
This marriage, however, did not pacify
Lady Hatton's haughty and rindictlve spirit.
On the wedding-day, she honoured the event, it is
true, by a magnificent entertainment; her hus
band was not, however, invited, but was seen
dining at the public table in the Temple. Their
enmity endured for four years without mitiga
tion ; at the end of that time, it was subdued
by the interference of the King ; but was never
whoUy subdued.
By the alliance with Frances Coke, the ViUiers
family received considerable accession of wealth ;
for besides the sum of 10,000Z. paid in money. Sir
Edward and his son, Robert, did, upon the
second of November, pursuant to directions of the
Lords of Council, assure to Sir John VUUers an
annuity of 2,000 marks per annum during Sir
Edward Coke's life, and of 900Z. a year during
that of Lady Hatton ; besides the manor ef
Stoke Pogis, in Buckinghamshire, after their
deaths: being the moiety of these lands which
Sir Edward Coke Intended te bequeath to his
two daughters. These sums and this estate were
= Bacon's KeUcs, ii., 29.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 181
settled by goed conveyances, which were certified
to his Majesty by Sir Randolph Crewe, Sir
Robert Hitcham, and Sir Henry Yelverton, the
King's sergeants and attorney; and eventually
other possessions, and certain worldly honours, were
added te these acquisitions. But the marriage,
notvrithstandlng the success of these arrange
ments, was attended by misery. The young bride,
in spite of her profession at the time of her
nuptials, had always secretly hated the husband
thus forced upon her choice. She had long given
a preference to Sir Robert Howard; and the
result was such as to embitter her own existence,
and to degrade her into the lowest condition
to which a woman can descend ; her husband
incurring a heavy penalty for his own compliance
vrith the ambitious and mercenary views of
Buckingham — that of being wedded to a loath
ing and, eventuaUy, a faithless wife.
For some years, indeed, a hoUow prosperity
deceived superficial judges of the affairs of life
as te the happiness of this iU-fated pair. A
series of magnificent entertainments exalted
the favour of Lady Hatton, ene of the most
odious female characters of that period, and
humUiated her husband, who partook not of
these festivities. AU the great, the gay, the
courtly, attended the banquets of this imperious

182 LIFE AND TIMES OP
woman : but her husband was never Inrited.
Hatton House was graced repeatedly by the
King, who knighted there several among the
guests who were favoured by the lady of the
mansion. In the words of an eye-vritness, he
made " four of her creatures knights,"^ so resolved
was he to mollify this virago. This shower of
favours was the result entirely of the new connec
tion with the VUUers famUy ; and a marked
condescension was shown on that day to the Lady
Compton VUliers and her chUdren, whom the
King " praised and kissed, and blessed all those
that wished them weU."^ *
Amid all this carousing, some mistakes — inten
tional ones, it may be suspected — were com
mitted. The Earl of Pembroke, lord cham
berlain, was not invited to the dinner; but, as
well as the Earl of Arundel, went home to
dine, and returned to wait upen the King —
a trait ef Lady Hatton's meanness and haugh
tiness which must have contributed to the
disgust felt for her conduct to her husband, "who
was neither invited nor spoken of, but dined that
day in the Temple as usual."
^ Sir Peter Chapman, that belongs to the Earl of Exeter ;
Sir Francis Nedham, an old soUcitor betwixt her and Sir
Christopher Hatton ; Sir Nathaniel NeU, a kinsman of Sir
Kobert ; and one Withipole, a kinsman of her own.
* Nichols, iii. 448.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 183
It is but justice to James te state that he now
began to entertain a serious intention of endeav
ouring te reconcUe Sir Edward Coke to his
lady ; but he truly observed that it was a matter
of time and difficulty. A cordial reconciliation
had, however, taken place between Lady Hatton
and her daughter.
Beneath aU these forced reconoUIations and
specious protestations, a deep-seated disease —
unsoundness of principle — was latent, only
waiting for time and occasion to give it effect.
AU, indeed, seemed prosperous ; in June, 1619,
two years afterwards. Sir John VilUers was
raised to the dignity of Baron Stoke, in the
county of Buckingham, and created Viscount
Purbeck,^ in the county of Dorset, in spite
ef much reluctance on the part of Lady
Hatton to give him up Purbeck ; in case of her
refusal, he was to have been styled Viscount
Beaumont. It was long, also, before Lady
Hatton consented to put Lord Purbeck in posses
sion of Purbeck.8 And the honour ef being
Viscountess of Westmorland was at the same
fime offered te Lady Hatton, but was refused,
" because she would not come up to the price
= The Isle of Purbeck belonged to Lady Hatton.
6 Calendar of State Papers for 1619, cix., p. 26.
' Biog. Brit. Art. Coke.

"7

184 LIFE AND TIMES OP
This bait was held out in order to induce her
to assure to her son-in-law 7,000L, in land,
a year, so completely were the King's interests
those of the VilUers famUy. Had she been
obstinate, it was determined to make her husband
a baron to " spite her."
The termination, however, of thisIU-assortedunion,
thus formed, proves how impossible it is for themost
successful match-makers to negotiate for happiness.
The affection of Lady Purbeck for Sir Robert
Howard had never died away, and It soon showed
itself in acts of indiscretion, which gave occasion to
much animadversion. In May, 1620, Lord Purbeck
went abroad, upon pretext ef drinking the waters
at Spa, but, according to the account of Camden,
to conceal his having " run mad with pride." By
another writer, his loss of reason Is imputed to
the improper support given to his wife in her out
rage of public decorum, and consequent Insult to
his honour. Whatever may have been the cause
ef his infirmity, it Is evident that the manoeuvres
ef his family to Increase their wealth and dignity,
were by no means conducive to his feUcity.'
During the whole of this discreditable transac
tion, and for a considerable time after it had
ceased to amuse the court circles, the extraordi
nary influence of an Imperious woman shows at ence
' Nichols, iii., 648.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 185
the weakness of James and the incipient degrada
tion ef Buckingham. Whether Lady Hatton's influ
ence proceeded from the expectations of further
prosperity to the VUUers famUy, she having 3000Z.
a year in her ovm power to bequeath, or whether
there existed in her any peculiar power to charm,
is uncertain. In the inedited State Papers, there
are to be found many scattered notices of the
great court paid to this arrogant lady.
On the first of November, 1617, writes Mr.
Chamberlain to Sir D. Carleton, " the streets being
fuU of people, on account of the Lord Mayor's
passage to St. Paul's," the Earl ef Buckingham,
accompanied by the Marquis ef HamUton, Lord
Compton, and the Lord Hay, "Sir Edward CecU,
and I know not whom, many more, to the number
of twelve coaches, went to fetch the Lady Hatton
from Sir WiUiam Craven's, and brought her to
her father's, at CecU House." Here she re
mained some time, and went in " like state to the
Court, and there was much graced by the King,
who likewise reconcUed her te the Queen, and
made, at the same time, an atonement 'twixt her
and the Lady Compton, and a perfect peace
'twixt her and her daughter, who would not be
persuaded that she could forgive and forget, tUl,
at parting, the King made her swear that she
loved her as dearly as ever."

186 LIFE AND TIMES OP
During the course of the same month, another
mark of favour was exhibited.^
"On Saturday last. Lady Hatton entertained the
King at dinner. Sir Edward Coke gave it eut it was
for the reconciliation of him and his vrife ; but it
seems he mistook the case, for she gave orders
that neither he nor any of his sons or servants
should enter her doers." Then follows the con
trast, and the poor insulted husband appears on
the scene. "His ordinary residence is at the
Temple, where very few come unto him, and
he sendeth fer his diet to Goodman GIbbes, a
slovenly cook, in Ram AUey. I believe not that
which some confidently report, that he sendeth his
shoes to be cobbled, and that on fasting night,
when he meant not to feast his men, he sent to
his neighbour GIbbes for a breast ef mutton."
Upon the death of Secretary Winwood, Lady
Hatton, it was supposed, would have had the
nomination of his succession, but the King seized
this opportunity ef again marking his regard
for the favourite.
" They do aU apprehend," writes Mr. Chamber
lain, "how much the Lady Hatton might prevail
if she would set her whole mind and strength to
it ; and I think they have and vrill find means to
» Nov. 14, 1617, Sir Nathaniel Brent to Sfr Dudley
Carleton. Domestic.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 187
put her in remembrance ; but the voice goes that
the place is not like to be disposed of in haste, for
the King says he was never se well served as
when he was his own secretary, and to that end
hatn deUvered the seals, that were belonging to
Sir Ralph Winwood, te the custody of the Earl
of Buckingham, and there, perhaps, they shall re
main tiU they both grow weary of them."""
Sir Thomas Lake, according to the same cor
respondent, got possession of the lodging at Court
usuaUy assigned to the secretary ; and it was said
that he had the seals also, and a warrant for
an aUowance of 4,100Z. a year fer "intelUgence;"
but, adds Mr. Chamberlain, it faUs not out so.
Lady Hatton was, it appears, extremely
anxious to advance the interests of Sir Thomas
Edmondes," a desire which was doubtless favoured
by Buckingham, te whose interests Edmondes
was, at this time, devoted. It is satisfactory to
find, in a subsequent letter, that Lady Hatton's
ascendancy did not last long. " That first heat
being over," vrrltes a contemporary, "she may
blow her nails tvrice before it kindle again." Her
aim, as was acknowledged on all hands, " was rather
to puU down her husband " than to use her power
" Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to SirD. Carleton, Nov. 8,
1617. Inedited State Papers.
" See Letter from Nathaniel Brent to Sfr D. Carleton.

188 LIFE AND TIMES OP GEOEGE VILLIEES.
and favour either for her ovm good, or her
friends." '^ A singular combination ef everything
that was violent, and yet intriguing, rapacious, and
yet lavish, seems to have been exhibited in the
character of this leader of fashion in the Court
of James the First.
" Inedited Letter in the State Paper Office.

CHAPTER V.
Buckingham's favour paramount — change in the
king's temper  his poetic flights — HIS REIGN A
course of dissipation  THE MASQUES OF BEN
JONSON  ^THEIR GEEAT BEAUTY  PATRONIZED BY
THE QUEEN  HOW PERFORMED — THE VISION OF
DELIGHT  COMPOSED TO CELEBRATE BUCKINGHAM'S
BEING MADE A MARQUIS  HIS APPEARANCE AT THIS
ERA — THE BANQUET GIVEN FOE THIS OCCASION 
GEEAT EXTRAVAGANCE OF THE ENTERTAINMENT 
RIVALS TO BUCKINGHAM IN JAMES'S FAVOUR — SIR
HENRY MILDMAY  BROOKE — -YOUNG M0RI80N — THE
DIVERSIONS OF THE COURT  THE METEOR THAT
APPEARED  FOOT-RACING  BUCKINGHAM'S PROFU
SION  JEALOUSIES BETWEEN PRINCE CHAELES AND
HIM, 1617-1618-1619.

191

CHAPTER V.

1617—1618—1619.

Buckingham may now be said, in the words of
Lord Clarendon, " to sleep in the arms of fortune."
The King, notwithstanding his failing health, con
tinued his patient sittings in the Star-Cham
ber, where, groaning under his mortal disease,
he found fault vrith "lawyers' repetitions," and
sometimes indulged in petidant eloquence, compar
ing, when he presided at the trial of Sir Thomas
Lake, that disgraced courtier to Adam, Lady
Lake to Eve, and their daughter. Lady Roes, to
the serpent. WhUst encouraging, en the one hand,
a treaty of marriage for his son vrith a daughter of
Spain, and ordering, on the ether, musters of troops
to be ready to keep devra the Papists, who might
otherwise be emboldened by that project ; he stUl,
throughout the whole of these troublesome and often

192 LIFE AND TIMES OF
urgent affairs, had one object In view — ^the grati
fication and aggrandizement of George VUUers.
Sometimes we find the King indulging in poetic
flights. After a week or two of hard work in the
Star-Chamber, James, in a serious mood, wrote
a meditation on the Lord's Prayer, and dedicated
it to Buckingham.'^ On a festive occasion,in which
the favourite entertained him to his heart's con
tent, the Monarch thought it not beneath him to
write a poem and address it also to his young host.'^
The latter part of King James's reign was one
perpetual course of what may safely be termed
dissipation, but which was then styled "good
cheer and joUity." Amongst the most refined of
his pleasures were the Masques of Ben Jonson ; '^
and the monarch showed his appreciation of the
meritsof these beautiful productions by a pension of
a hundred marks te their author. Hitherto, Daniel
had been the Laureate of the Court, having been
an especial favourite vrith Queen Elizabeth and her
ladies. Though the appointment had hitherto been
unpaid, the slight thus passed on Daniel embittered
his declining years, and drove him from the Court,
where his talents and virtues were, as he fancied,
no longer appreciated.
" State Paper, vol. cv.. No. 103.
"State Paper.
" Life of Ben Jonson, by Gifford, p. 33.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 193
Shakespeare was now in the tomb; and Jonson,
who " had hated and feared him through life," was
left without a rival to Interfere with his triumph, or
to commemorate the actions of the great. The
death of Prince Henry had saddened the nation
and obscured the gaiety of the Court for a season ;
but now, especiaUy before the marriage of VilUers,
whose settling in life was an event cordially desired
by James, no revels were carried en without that
most popular feature, a Masque ; and no masque
could gain applause unless Ben Jonson were the
writer. A frequent visitor at Belvoir, at Burleigh
en the HUl, and at Windsor, when the Court was
at either ef these places, Jonson never wrote a
masque without exhibiting, in strong colours,
quaUties that astonished his acquaintance. He
deUghted in the composition of those productions,
which, it has been truly said, were unrivalled
except by Comus ; ofthe masque, he was, as he him
self remarked, " an artificer ; " it began with him,
and with him it ended. Pageants and mas
querades had long been famUIar to the English ;
and masques, improperly so caUed, had been car
ried to a great degree of splendour in the reign
of Henry VIIL, but neither then, as Gifford
observes, nor in that of Elizabeth, did the masque
acquire " that unity of design, that exclusive cha
racter, which it assumed on the reign of James."
VOL. I. O

194 LIFE AND TIMES OF
That monarch had, in the opinion ef the same
admirable critic, more literature than taste or ele
gance. What was deficient in him was, however,
apparent ih the character of his Queen, Anne of
Denmark, who deUghted in show and gaiety, loved
pomp, and understood It ; as SuUy expresses it,
she " aspired to convert Whitehall into a temple
of delight." She assembled around her the most
briUiant leaders ef fashion among the nobility;
and, not well comprehending our language, she
delighted in masques and shows which addressed
themselves to the senses. She had, however, suf
ficient discrimination to applaud the poetical
talents of Ben Jonson, whose compositions had
delighted her at Althorpe ; and she called him to
her Court, and engaged him "to embody her
conceptions," soon after her arrival in London.'*
The masque of Ben Jonson consisted of dialogue,
singing, and dancing; worked up into one har
monious whole by the introduction of some strik
ing fable, generaUy borrowed from the Greek er
Roman Mythology. The sister arts were employed
to bestow the splendours of moveable scenery,
hitherto unknown to the stage ; for pomp and ex
pense were essential to the masque; "it could only
breathe," as Gifford observes, " in the atmosphere
of a Court ; " It was composed fer princes, and by
'" Gifford, p. 65.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 195
princes was it performed. The flower of all that was
gay and gallant was collected te constitute a band of
royal and noble performers ; and perhaps there was
never such a display of elegance and beauty as that
which graced the masques of Ben Jonson. The
songs devolved probably on professional performers,
but the dialogues required great care and study
to learn them, and sklU and practice in their deli
very before a courtly and critical audience. The
dances were also executed by the Court ; se admi
rably, that Jonson paid to the exquisite performance
ofthe Measures, as he beheld them, In these lines: —
" In curious knots and mazes, so
The Spring at first was taught to go ;
And Zephyr, when he came to woo
His Flora, had these notions too ;
And thus did Venus learn to head
Th' Indian brawls, and so to tread.
As if the wind, not she, did walk.
Nor pressed a iiower, nor bow'd a stalk."
The dialogue in the masques of Ben Jensen is
marked by strength and boldness, and the songs
are replete with all the luxuriance of the richest
fancy. In his dramatic works, and also in his
longer poems, there is a compression which pro
duces hardness and severity, but, as Gifford beau
tifuUy expresses it, " no sooner has he taken down
his lyre, no sooner touched his lighter pieces, than
all is changed, as if by magic, and he becomes a
o2

196 LIFE AND TIMES OP
new person. His genius awakes at once, his Imagi
nation becomes fertUe, ardent, versatile, and excur
sive ; his taste pure and elegant ; and aU his facul
ties attuned to liveliness and pleasure." '^
The masque was therefore one of the highest
intellectual delights of an intellectual age. WhUst
Jonson composed the dialogues, in which " the
soundest moral lessons came recommended by the
charm of numbers," the chief artists of the realm
were employed in decorative scenery, the con
struction of which was at its climax in the time
of James. Lawes, and other noted composers, set
the songs to music; the masque was the courtly re
creation of gaUant gentlemen, and ladies ef honour,
striving to exceed one another in their measures
and changes, and in their repasts of vrit. Not
withstanding the efforts of Inigo Jones, under
whose guidance many of the accompaniments
were framed to preserve It, and those ef AureUus
Townshend, the masque fell again into the pageant
and masquerade after the death of James, and, in
spite of an effort made by Charles II. to revive
it, ceased te exist.
The "Vision of Delight," one ef the most
fanciful and beautiful of Jensen's masques, was
performed on Twelfth Night, and the expenses of
the representation were defrayed by Buckingham.
" Gifford, p. 67.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 197
It was to celebrate his new dignity as a Marquis,
to which James had resolved to elevate him, that
the foUowing lines, spoken by Delight, seen afar
off, with his attendants, Grace, Love, Harmony,
Revel, Sport, Laughter, and foUowed by Wonder,
were composed, and sung in a recitative solo : —
" Let us play, and dance, and sing.
Let us now turn every sort
Of the pleasures of the Spring
To the graces of a court.
From afr, from cloud, from dreams, from toys,
To sounds, to sense, to love, to joys ;
Let your shows be new, as strange.
Let them oft and sweetly vary,
Let them haste to their change,
As the seers may not tarry ;
Too long to expect the pleasing'st sight.
Doth take away from the delight."
The " Vision" concluded with a dance of ladles,
in which Aurora appeared, and this epilogue
foUowed : —
Aurora, " I was not wearier when I lay
By frozen Tithon's side to-night.
Than I am'wiUing now to stay.
And be a part of your delight ;
But I am urged by the day.
Against my will, to bid you come away." '»
At this masque Buckingham acted, and as
sumed his place as a Marquis, taking, it appears,
"Ben Jonson'^ Works.

198 LIFE AND TIMES OF
a precedence to which he was not entitled. "It
Is thought strange," Levlngston wrote to Carleton,
"amongst the old lords that he should take
precedence of them." '*
James had never, since his accession, conferred
the dignity of Marquis on any of his subjects.
He now very hastily gave it to his favourite,
ascribing as the reason for this act that he be
stowed that " title for the affection he bore him,
mere than he did te any man," and " for the affec
tion, faith, and modesty that he had found in
Buckingham." A few of the nobility about the Court were
hastily summoned to witness the creation, which
was by patent, and in private. In the evening
great festivities followed, Buckingham presiding
as the master of the feast which preceded the
masque. His appearance at this era has been
delineated by Simon Pass, whose portrait is to
be found among the historical collection of prints
in the British Museum. He now assumed a deep
falling ruff; his doublet was closed with a row of
rich pearls, and over It he wore the ribbon of the
Garter and the George. A large cloak of rich
satin was suspended ever one shoulder ; — his hands
are adorned by a cuff of Vandyck Uce. His
portrait after this time exhibits two long, very
'^ Calendar of State Papers, vol. cv., 4.

GEOEGE VILLIERS. 199
thin wavy curls, suspended frem the left ear ; his
hair, otherwise, is almost always wom rather short,
and turned back frem the forehead. The slight
moustache of his earlier portraits becomes aug
mented Into one of greater consequence, carefuUy
tumed up at each corner ; and a peaked beard
environs the chin, which had before a youthful
smoothness. He was now matured in form and
perfect in deportment.
In unwonted magnificence Buckingham received
his royal guest at a banquet long celebrated in the
annals of the Court for its exuberance. As yet, the
Marquisewned no housesufiicientlyspacieus forthis
entertainment, and it appears to have been held In
WhitehaU. How attractive must have been his
deportment at this era, before care sat upon his brow,
and IU health, vexation of spirit, a consciousness
of deserved unpopularity, and a heart sated with
unsatisfactory pleasures, had changed Into anxiety
the eager enjoyment of his dazzling fortunes !
"Carrying his loves and his hatreds in his open
forehead," he presided, careless of the future, full
of health and hope, at that noisy and festive board.
The repast on this occasion was served up in the
French fashion, under the auspices of Sir Thomas
Edmondes, who had recently returned from France.
" You may judge," vsrites an eye-vritness, "of the
feast, by this scantling, that there were said to be

200 LIFE AND TIMES OF
seventeen dozens of pheasants and twelve partridges
in a dish, throughout which, methinks, were more
spoil than largesse."^" The entertainment, "in
spite of many presents," cost six hundred pounds.
There were some obstacles, even on this day, to
Buckingham's perfect enjoyment. One of these
was the uncertain temper of the King. He had
now, in the words of those who watched his vary
ing humour, " become so forward and morose, that
few things seemed to please him." The sight of
Buckingham alone appeared to appease him ; he
was, however, greatly delighted with the banquet,
aud praised "both the meat and the master."
Yet, in spite of this marked preference, and of
these abundant honours, there were rumours that
Buckingham's place in the King's regard was not
secure ; Sir Henry Mildmay, young Brooke, the
son of Lord Cobham, and a son of Sir WUliam
Monson's, began, it was thought, to come Into
consideration with the King.
The " Vision of Delight" became the chief theme
of pubUc discourse. In this masque. Prince
Charles was a principal performer ; and the other
parts were filled up by Buckingham, the Marquis
ef Hamilton, the Earl of Montgomery, and some
ether lords. Among the dancers, Isabel, ^' the
™ Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sfr D. Carleton.
Inedited State Papers, Jan. 10, 1617-18.
^' Afterwards the wife of Henry, Lord de la Warr.

GEORGE VILLIEES. 201
eldest daughter of Sir Thomas Edmondes, "bore
away the beU." She was, as it were, " hanged all
over with jewels ;" but, notwithstanding the
beauty of the piece, and the rank of the actors,
the plot of the " Vision ef Delight" is said " to
have proved dull." The representation was at
tended by the Spanish and Venetian ambassadors;
to the great affront of the French ambassador; for
Buckingham had now planned a deep game, and the
apparent frivolity of his pleasures was becoming
merely the surface of those political schemes
which he had at heart. Soon after these festi
vities, the King took occasion to affront young
Monson, who had been set up by the envious te
be an idol in place of Buckingham, by intimating
that he did net like his forwardness in present
ing himself continually before him. The young
man not only took the hint himself, but Imparted
it to others ; so " that aU the young Court gal
lants vanished like mushrooms ;" and those who
had taken great pains " te set out young Monson to
the best advantage, pricking and pranking him
up, besides washing his face every day with
posset curd. In order that he might rival the hand
some Buckingham, received a severe rebuff." ^^
Among the favourite diversions of King James
was horse-racing. Early in the spring, the Coiirt
'''' Inedited State Papers. Domestic. Mr. Chamberlain
to Sfr D. Carleton, 10 Jan., 1617-18.

202 LIFE AND TIMES OF
was aroused by the racing of two footmen from
St. Albans to ClerkenweU ; " and many came to
pass the time," writes Mr. Chamberlain, merrUy,
at Newmarket, and the running match ranges all
over the country, where they be fit subjects to
entertain it, as lately they have been at Sir
John Croft's, near Bury, and in requital, those
ladles have invited them to a mask of their own
invention (aU those fair sisters being summoned
for the purpose), so that on Thursday the King,
Prince, and Court go thither a shroving." ^^
The foUovring extract from ene of Mr. Cham
berlain's letters represents another kind of diver
sion : — " The King came hither the Saturday
before Shrovetide, and the two days foUowing
there was much feasting and jollity ; and the
Christmas mask repeated on Shrove Tuesday
night. On Saturday last, the Prince made a ball
and a banquet at Denmark House, which he
had lost at Tennis to the Marquis of Bucking
ham,^* who invited thither a number of ladies,
mistresses, and valentines, a ceremony come
lately In request, and grown so costly that it Is
said he hath cast away this year 2000Z. that way,
among whom a daughter of Sir John Croft's
' Inedited State Papers. It is dated, London, March
11, 1619-20.
« Inedited State Papers, Feb. 26, 1619-20.

GEORGE VILLIEES. 203
that is unmarried, had a carcanet of 800Z. for
her share ; and the King is so pleased with the
whole society of these sisters,^' that he extols
them before all others, and hath bespoken them
for the Court against next Christmas. The
banquet at Denmark House was so plentiful
that it cost 400?., and all the women came
away, as it were, laden with sweetmeats ; but
supper there was none, save what the Lord
of Purbeck made to his private friends." ^^
Another ef those aspirants to royal favour, to
whom we have referred, and whom the career of
Buckingham drew forth from obscurity, was Sir
Henry Mildmay, and a son of George Brooke's, who
had been executed at Winchester, on the supposed
Raleigh plot. But James soon discovered that both
these young courtiers were the tools of fac
tions directed against Buckingham ; and they
were banished the Court. Some time after
wards, it was thought that the return of young
Monson might be effected through the influence
of his friends; but, observes a bystander of
this game, these Court resolutions do strangely
alter, and for the most part, "the day follow
ing gives the lie to that which preceded."
'^ Sfr J. Croft's Daughters.
^ N. Brent to Sfr D, Carleton, March 30, 1618. State
Paper Office, inedited.

204 LIFE AND TIMES OF
The King, meantime, continued to amuse him
self vastly at Newmarket. The following de
scription of one ef his days of pleasure presents
a singular picture of the homely diversions of the
first of the Stuart monarchs that reigned in this
country : —
" We hear nothing from Newmarket, but that
they devise aU the means they can to make them
selves merry, as of late there was a feast appointed
at a farm-house not far off, where every man
should bring his dish. The King brought a great
chine of beef; the Marquis of HamUton four pigs,
garnished with sausages ; the Earl of Southamp
ton two turkies ; another, some partridges ; and
one, a whole tray full of buttered eggs : and so aU
passed very pleasantly." ^^
During these diversions, James's good humour,
often interrupted by disease and self-indulgence,
was maintained by his partiality for Buckingham.
"The King," writes Mr. Chamberlain, "is never
out of tune, but that the sight of the Earl of
Buckingham doth settle and quiet aU."
Meantime, one of those meteoric appearances
to which the superstition of the day attached some
portentous meaning, excited popular alarm, and
suspended even the course of public business.
¦" Mr. Chamberlain to Sfr Dudley Carleton, Nov. 28,
1618. State Paper Office, inedited.

GBOEGE VILLIEES. 205
" On Wednesday," writes one of the functionaries
of government, "we had no Star Chamber, by
reason of the Lord Chancellor's indisposition ;
that was the first day we took notice here of the
great blazing star, though it was observed at
Oxford a full week before. It is now the only
subject of discourse, and not so much as little
children, but as they go to school, talk in the
streets that it foreshows the death of a king or a
queen, er some great war towards." ^^
At another time a race ef two footmen from St.
Albans to ClerkenweU diverted the Court. Many
money bets were laid upon the result, and Buck
ingham won three thousand pounds upon that
day. " The story," as the narrator of it weU
observes, "were not worth telling, but that you
may see we have little to do when we are se far
affected with these trifles, that all the Court in a
manner, lords and ladies, and some further off,
and some nearer, went to see this race, and the
King himself almost as far as Barnet ; and though
the weather was sour and foul, yet he was scant
fils de bonne mbre that went not out to see, inso
much that it is verUy thought there was as
many people as at the King's first coming te
London ; and for the courtiers on horseback,
^ T. Locke to Sfr Dudley Carleton, Nov. 17, 1618,
State Paper Office, inedited.

206 LIFE AND TIMES OF
they were so pitifully bewrayed and bedaubed
all over, that they could scant be known one from
another, besides divers of them came te have falls
and other mishaps, by reason of the multitude of
horses." On some ef these occasions, the lavish disposi
tion ef Buckingham was exhibited. On St.
George's Day, a festival observed with much
solemnity, he presented forty of his gentlemen
with fifty pounds a piece " to provide them
selves," and twenty te ten of his yeomen, besides
a hundred pounds to treat them with a supper
and a play on the foUowing night at the Mitre in
Fleet Street. A retinue of fifty persons \ appears,
in modem days, a tolerable attendance for a
nobleman even of high rank ; but it had recently
been found necessary to limit them to that num
ber, owing to the unbounded ostentation and ex
travagance of many of the nobUity.^'
Whilst this continued round of pleasures was
carried on, some adverse events checked the
merriment of those who played a part in the
revels. Prince Charles, who was his mother's
favourite, was sometimes the object of his father's
jealousy, although, by the gentleness and prudence
of his deportment, he had avoided the almost open
state of variance with the King, which. In his bro-
'» Nichols, vol. iii., p. 477.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 207
ther's days, had divided the Court into two par
ties. Still there were occasions on which the
conduct of the young Prince was misrepre
sented. The difference was seen reconciled ; and " my
Lord ef Buckingham," as he was caUed by
several annalists ef the day. gave a dinner to the
King and Queen for the express purpose of
reconciling his Highness to his royal father. The
King and Queen dined at a separate table, but
in the same room as that in which the lords and
ladles were feasted : among these. Lady Hatton,
Lady VilUers Compton, and Lady Fielding, and
several others of the same family, were placed ;
the King drank to all these separately, and
sent them secret messages. At the close of
the banquet, he rose, and drank a common
health to all the noble family, and declared
that he desired them te advance them before
all others. " And because," adds the writer of
the letter in which this account Is given ef
himself, '^ there was no doubt — for, said he, 'I
Uve to that end ; ' be assured we live In their pos
terity's name, that they would so far regard their
father's commandments and instructions as to
advance that house above all others whatso
ever." 30
The King shortly afterwards verified his as-
» Nichols, 484, from Birch's MSS. British Museum.

208 LIFE AND TIMES OF
sertion by creating Lady ViUiers Compton, by
patent. Countess of Buckingham in her own
right for life. The Heralds, it is said, were
" posed " to explain how Sir Thomas Compton,
himself ef a noble and loyal famUy, should have
no part in this patent; but the public could
easily comprehend that it was the aim and in
tention of James to elevate the VilUers family
by every mark of especial favour. The newly-
made Countess of Buckingham, thus raised by
fortune from a low estate, did not escape ca^
lumny ; rumours, both scandalous and unjust,
being set afloat regarding her imputed intimacy
with Lord Keeper WiUiams, who succeeded
Bacon on the woolsack.^'
Another melancholy event saddened all hearts,
and excited a deep and generous resentment.
This was the death of Sir Walter Ralegh. In
this event, " the sacrifice,'' as Hume expresses
it, "ef the only man In the nation who had a
high reputation for valour and mUitary expe
rience," Buckingham had no doubt some in
direct participation. He promoted It, because he
promoted the projected alliance with Spain,
which had now, for some years, lain the closest at
the King's heart. He was responsible for it,
because no intercession that he might have
chosen to make for the "gaUantest worthie that
" Life of B. Goodman, p. 286.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 209
England ever bred," would have been proffered
in vain. During the early part ef his career,
Buckingham had, indeed, befriended Ralegh ; but
little credit is to be assigned for the mediation
which, in 1615, had procured the release of the
Ulustrious prisoner, after twelve years of durance,
since it was purchased, through the agency of
Lady Villiers, for fifteen hundred pounds. On
that occasion, Ralegh had addressed a letter of
thanks to the all-powerful favourite ; but now
affairs had undergone a marveUous change. Even
money could not avaU, and Buckingham, in all
the sunshine of his fortunes, stood at aU events
indifferent, if not accessory, to the infamous sen
tence, by the revival of which Ralegh was doomed
to death.
The fashion of the day, as well as the wishes of
the King, aU tended at this time to increase the
ascendancy of Spanish counsels in England.
James entertained an opinion, pecuUar to
himself, that any marriage, except vrith a
daughter of France or Spain, would be unworthy
of the Prince of Wales, and he would never suffer a
princess of any other royal house to be men
tioned in his presence as a suitable consort for the
heir apparent.^^ Upen the death of Prince Henry,
a negotiation for a marriage between the Prince
''' Hume. Life of James I.
VOL. I. P

210 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Charles and the second daughter ef France, the
Princess Christine, was set on foot, but faUed,
owing to the death of the Count de Soissons,
its chief promoter.'* The efforts of the Spanish
ambassador, the famous Gondemar, and the long
course ef intrigues which attended his risitation
to England, afterwards effectually set aside for a
time all thoughts of prosecuting the scheme of
a marriage treaty with either of the French
princesses, on the one hand ; whUst, on the
other, the affairs of Germany were such as to dis
courage, to all appearance, the exertions which
were made by the Spanish party in England to
produce a union between the royal famUies of
Great Britain and Spain. Frederic, the Elector,
and son-in-law of James, had accepted the tender
of the crown of Bohemia, and become, con
sequently, involved in hostilities with Austria, and
these were regarded as a religious war ; for Austria,
which, throughout her dominions, had always made
religion a pretext for her usurpations, now upheld
the Catholic faith as her object, whUst the
Elector Palatine, a Protestant, ranged himself on
the side of Uberty. The whole of the EngUsh
nation were eager to espouse the cause, and to aid
the brave exertions of that prince. Sincerely
'^ Bfrch's Negotiations between England, France, and
Brussels, p. 372.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 211
attached to the Princess Palatine, the iU-fated
Elizabeth of Bohemia, they considered her inter
ests, and those of her husband, as constituting a
sort of crusade, and they were ready to risk
plunging the country into all "the chaos ef
German politics," considermg the contest as
between Protestantism and liberty — and Popery
and despotism.
On the first Introduction of Gondomar to the
King, an accident had occurred which was re
garded by many as a presage.*'' As the ambassador
was passing from the CouncU Chamber, along the
terrace towards the Great Chamber In WhitehaU,
a piece of the fioor sank, and several persons fell
dovra. The Earl ef Arundel hurt his face ; the
Lord Gerrard and Lord Gray also received some
injury from the fall; the ambassador alone
escaped, being held up by two of the household
guards. This accident seemed ominous of the
ultimate rupture between England and Spain ;
James regarded it in that light, and could never
bear te hear it mentioned !
Unwonted honours were indeed shewn to
Gondemar. He was received with marks ef
great distinction, and lodged at Ely House,
which had been prepared for his use with con
siderable expense. But the most Important de-
^ Inedited State Papers, March 20, 1619-20.
p2

212 LIFE AND TIMES OP
viation from established custom was the appro
priation of a cloth ef state to this ambassador, an
appendage never permitted to any such personage
before. That mark ef favour, however, which
gave the greatest offence to the Puritan party,
was the order that the chapel should be renewed
and embelUshed, and an altar placed in It.
All the ambassador's expenses of living were
defrayed by the King ; although, on being
offered some of the royal attendants, Gondomar
declined their serrices. WhUst these things
v/^ere going on at Court, the populace, cherishing
the cause of the distant and deserted daughter of
James, Elizabeth ef Bohemia, were parading the
streets with drums beating, to muster recruits for
the Palatinate.**
But James was under the influence of Gon
domar, and Spain was connected by the closest
ties of blood, and by the stUl dearer bonds ef
poUtical interest, with the Emperor of Austria.
Gondomar well understood the King, and divined
his vrishes. He offered, at this juncture, the
second daughter of the King of Spain to Prince
Charles, and backed his proposal by the promise
of an immense sum of money, which he well
knew would be acceptable in the present needy
circumstances of the British King. The proposal,
'' Inedited State Papers for 1619-20.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 213
though entertained by James, was distrusted by
the pubUc, and. deemed wheUy Insincere, for it
was theught that Spain had no intention of form
ing any union vrith a princess of heretical prin
ciples. The fate of Sir Walter Ralegh was therefore
sealed. Twenty-three years before, he had ac
quired for the crown of England a claim to the
continent ef Guiana; and, in his second expedi
tion, had planned, and executed through his son
Walter, the sacking of St. Thomas, a smaU town
which the Spaniards, not acknowledging the
British claim to the territory of Guiana, had
built on the river Oronooko. The young Walter
Ralegh was kUled in that attempt. He was a
young man more desirous of honour than safety ;
" with whom," said the agonized father, on hear
ing of his loss, " to say truth, aU the respects of
this world have taken end in me." *^
Ralegh was now to suffer for the results of an en
terprise which he had undertaken with the express
consent of the King.*' WhUst proceedings were
carried en against him, Gondemar was entertained,
as it wUl be remembered, vrith a marked distinction
by Buckingham. The extreme youth of the favour
ite had indeed attracted the witticisms of the artful
^« Letter to Winwood.
3? Hume. Keign of James I.

214 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Spaniard, who had converted that circumstance
into a compliment to the King's penetration,
teUing his Majesty " that he was the vrisest and
happiest prince in Christendom, to make privy-
counseUors sage at the age of twenty-one, when
his master, the King of Spain, could not do it
when they were sixty."** The wily Spaniard
dealt out his phrases in points and conceits, a sort
ef discourse then well received in society, and
pecuUarly agreeable te the King. He affected,
also, to speak false Latin. The King laughed
at him, on which the Ambassador rejoined, "Your
Majesty speaks like a pedant, but I speak Uke a
gentleman," and James gloried In his acknowledged
superiority in the classics. By these smaU contri
vances had Gondomar Insinuated himself Into royal
favour, so that no boon that he could ask — not
even the life of the venerated Ralegh — ceuld be
refused. There was another wheel within this closely-
contrived poUtical machine. The Countess of
Buckingham was Inclined to Popery ; and became,
eventuaUy, a convert to that faith. This circum
stance naturally influenced greatly the son, over
whose counsels the Countess continued to held a
sway, and to dispose them to the marriage ef the
heir apparent to a Catholic.
™ Oldmixon. History of the House of Stuart, p. 52,

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 215
Some time previously, when the affair of the
marriage was first broached, the sentiments of
the Marquis and his mother were, therefore,
generaUy understood to be favourable, and the
Lord Treasurer Cranfield, at that time, under
their influence, was zealous in a cause so accept
able to the favourite.
In February, 1617, Nathaniel Brent wrote to
Sir Dudley Carleton: "By the Marquis of Buck
ingham and his mother the Spanish match is
much apprehended, though methinks there needs
no such haste, the lady being yet scant eleven years
old. In the meantime every man hopes or fears
as he is affected, and they say the Lord Treasurer
is so far possessed, that, Uke another Cato, that
began te learn Greek at threescore years old, he
hath get him a Spanish reader, and applies it hard."
The infiuence of the Countess ef Buckingham
doubtless, therefore, tumed the scale against
Ralegh, to the vexation of her son's best friends.
" She was," writes Bishop Hacket, who knew her
well, "mother to the great favourite, but, in
reUgion, became a step-mother. She doated upen
him extremely, as the glory of her womb, yet, by
turning her coat so wantonly when the eyes of all
the kingdom were upon her, she ceuld net have
wrought him a worse turn if she had studied a
mischief against him." " Many," adds the same

216 LIFE AND TIMES OP
writer, " marvelled what rumbled in her conscience
aU that time ; for, from a maid to a maiden,
she had net every one's good words for practice
of piety." *^ " Arthur Wilson complains also that
the Countess ef Buckingham was the cynosure that
all the Papists steered by ; but that it was above
her abUity te bear the weight of that metaphor."
" The Countess was," he adds, " a protectress of
the Jesuits and Jesuitesses, the females of that
order, of whom there were no fewerin England than
two hundred English ladies of good families." Her
opinions were well knovm te affect her son, who now
began to be accused by the Puritans of Armen
lanism, and became the friend and patron of Arch
bishop Laud. Gondomar saw weU to what point
to direct his insidious game. The Countess had
a share in the management of State affairs ; she,
with her son, guided the helm, and as much court
was paid te her as to Buckingham, whUst both
received far more adulation than was thought
necessary to bestow on the King himself. Wittily,
though somewhat impiously, Gondomar wrote te
the Spanish Court that "there never was more
hope of the conversion of England than now ; for
there are more prayers and oblations offered here
to the mother than to the sen." *°
" Hacket's Life of Archbishop Williams, vol. i.,p. 171.
*° Oldmixon, p. 52.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 217
Under this complication of interests, Ralegh,
on the 24th of October, 1618, was given to under
stand that it was the King's intent that he
should be put te death, and that he should there-
fere prepare himself for the same.*' Between
that intimation and the fulfilment ef his doom, the
courage of the broken-spirited and diseased pri
soner, prematurely old with sorrow and disap
pointment, gave way. He sought to anticipate
his fate, and attempted suicide, but the wound
which he gave himself by stabbing — a cut, rather
than a stab — was not fatal, and he recovered te
address te his disconsolate wife one of the most
elpquent and heart-rending letters that ever ema
nated from that tomb of the living in which he
passed the close of his days.*^ How Buckingham
« Nichols, iii., p. 493.
*2 It begins thus: — "Keceive from thy unfortunate hus
band these, his last lines ; these, the last words that ever
thou shalt receive from him. That I can live, and think never
to see you and my child more, I cannot. I have desired God,
and disputed with my reason, but nature and compassion
hath the victory. That I can live to think how you
are both left a spoil to my enemies, and that my name shall
be a dishonour to my child, I cannot — I cannot endure the
memory thereof. Unfortunate woman! unfortunate child!
comfort yourselves, trust God, and be contented with your
poor estate ; I would have bettered it, if I had enjoyed it
a few years." — Bishop Goodman, ii., p. 93. Mr. Brewer has,
by the discovery of this letter, in the College of All Souls,

218 LIFE AND TIMES OF
could hear ef this last act of a mind almost frenzied
vrith misery, of a being, to use Ralegh's own
words, "not tempted with Satan," but only
"tempted vrith sorrow, whose sharp teeth devour
my heart," and not plead for this ornament of his
age, it is scarcely possible te conceive. He would
have culled golden opinions for such an inter
ference; he would have established a source of
proud and consolatory recollections for his own
heart ; but he lost that glorious opportunity, and
left the iUustrious prisoner, to use his own words,
to be a " wonder and a spectacle," and went on in
his own perilous career, until the hour of retribu
tion, even to him, arrived.
Ralegh's execution was fixed to take place — se
conscious was Government of the odium which
it would incur — on the Lord Mayor's Day, " that
the pageants and fine shows might," as Aubrey
expresses it, " avocate and draw away the people
from beholding the tragedle of the gaUantest
worthie that England ever bred." **
On the twenty-third of October, a discussion took
Oxford, definitively settled the question whether Ralegh did
or did not attempt his life in the Tower. Ralegh's list of
his debts, and his beseeching his wife "to take care of
them," are not among the least affecting parts of his
letter. « Nichols, p. 493.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 219
place in the Privy Council as to the mode in which
prisoners who had been condemned for treason,
and set at Uberty, could be executed. The subject
was one of much perplexity, but everything that
was subservient and expedient could be accom
plished in those days. It was, however, deter
mined to send a Privy Seal to the judges on the
King's Bench, desiring them to try Sir Walter
Ralegh " according te law." The death to which
he was doomed, by the hand of the executioner,
was already impending ever the iUustrious pri
soner In the form of disease. He had sent to the
merciless CecU his mournful manifesto ef privation
and sickness ; his left side was numbed, his fingers
on the same side were beginning te be contracted,
his tongue and speech affected ; he spoke feebly,
and feared he might altogether lose the power of
utterance. An application had therefore been
made for his removal from his damp, cold
lodging in the Tower, to a little room In the gar
den, which he had himself built, close to his
laboratory, er, as it was styled, his stUhouse.''''
But the time was at hand when his spirit
should breathe in a freer atmosphere; and aU
that man could do to him should cease to be of a
source of dread. " The world," he calmly ob-
" Letter in the State Paper Office, no date. See Life of
Sir Walter Ralegh, by the author. Appendix, p. 395.

220 LIFE AND TIMES OP
served, " was but a large prison, out of which
some were daily selected for execution."
On the twenty-eighth of October, he was tried,
and of course, condemned. In the King's Bench.
Henry Yelverton, then attorney-general, could not
help again, in his address for the Crown, describing
the prisoner as one who, for his parts and quaUty,
was to be pitied ; " one who had been a star,
yea, and of such nature, that shineth far ; but
out of the necessity of state, like stars when
they trouble the sphere, must indeed faU." It Is
remarkable that Yelverton, who had been patron
ised by Somerset, did himself, in after days,
faU, having incurred the enmity of VUUers.
The King, and of course Buckingham, were
at this time in Hertfordshire, on the Royal pro
gress, which was always a scene of festivity and
amusement. The warrant for Ralegh's execu
tion was, however, produced directly after the
sentence had been passed, dated the same day,
signed, and addressed to Lord Bacon. The sentence
was commuted from hanging to beheading ; but no
other favour was granted. James and his courtiers
feared the effect of public indignation ; no time,
therefore, was aUowed ; on the day after his
sentence, Ralegh met his death with simple,
decorous tranquiUity ; as one who was going te take
a long journey, for which he was well prepared.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 221
The streets were then thronged vrith the gay
foUowers ef the annual pageantry ; and, amid the
din of trumpets, and shouts of the people, the noble
spirit of Ralegh passed to a better world. Per
haps, had he sued for life to Gondomar, as his
friend Lord Clare recommended, the boon might
have been granted. But those who loved his
memory had not this act of humiliation to recaU,
as casting one shadow over the brightness ef his
departure from among them. " I am neither so
old, nor so infirm," was his reply, when urged
to make this appeal to the Spaniard, "but that I
should be content te live; and, therefore, this
would I do, were I sure it would do my busi
ness; but If it faU, then I shall lose both my
life and my honour; and both those I wiU not
part vrith."*«
Since it was understood that Ralegh's death
was a sacrifice to Spanish councUs, ovring to a
disputed territory, there can be no doubt but
that this event embittered the minds of the
pubUc against the cherished schemes which James
and VUliers had for some time conceived with re
gard to the Spanish aUiance. Whilst aU bore a
smUing aspect, various sources of discontent were
ready te break forth; and it was generaUy reported
that James had, to his infinite disgrace, somewhat
« Oldys's Life of Ralegh, folio viii., p. 729.

222 LIFE AND TIMES OF
insisted on the sentence of hanging being put
into execution, and that he could with difficulty
be brought to consent to its being commuted.''^
One circumstance which somewhat disturbed
the minds of the Court revellers, yet seemed
not to lessen the number of the revels, was
the fatal illness of the Queen. At the Christmas
of 1618-19, the physicians began to speak doubt
fully, and the courtiers to plot for leases for her
lands, fer the keeping of Somerset House, and for a
division of the spoU ef her furniture and person
alities, whenever her death should take place, so
confidantly was it expected. Meantime, the
festivities of the season went on as usual,
Hatton House being the centre of aU that was gay
and great, and the lady of the mansion the deepest
of domestic politicians. During the Christmas she
gave a grand supper, vrith a play, and invited
all the gallants and great ladies about the Court to
grace it; but the Howards, especially, were solicited
and caressed, for it was Lady Hatton's aim to " sol
der and link them fast' again " with the Marquis of
Buckingham ; and to see If he would cast an eye
towards Diana CecU,^' the second daughter
of WUUam, second Earl of SaUsbury. This
young lady was made, in order to attract the
" State Papers. Domestic. 1618-19.
" Her mother was a Howard — the sister of the infa
mous Lady Somerset.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 223
greater notice, Mistress of the Feast; but the bait
proved unsuccessful. Many, doubtless, were
the parents who were not unwilling to match
even the fairest of their daughters with the
young Marquis, " for it Is like," writes Mr. Cham
berlain, " there wiU be much angling after it, now
it is decided the King wishes him to take a vrife,
which of divers is diversely constructed." **
Twelfth Night was celebrated with a masque,
in which Prince Charles, Buckingham, and several
young noblemen and gentlemen, to the number
of twelve — amongst whom young Maynard " bore
away the bell " fer dancing — enacted. This
masque was one of Ben Jonson's compositions ;
but whether it was the "Vision of Delight"
repeated, or "Pleasure ReconcUed to Virtue,"
is not determined.*^ Six days afterwards, the
Banqueting House at Whitehall, in which these
revels had taken place, was burned down, owing,
it was supposed, to the neglect of women who
were appointed to sweep the room, and who
held their candles too near to some of the oiled
cloths and devices fer the masque, which had
been left by the King's orders to be ready for
Shrove Tuesday.^"
« Nichols, iii., 521.
•"> Bishop Goodman's Letters, ii., 188
=» The fire happened in the day time, at eleven, and

224 LIFE AND TIMES OF
The Queen had been some time ill, but hopes
were entertained of her recovery untU within a
very short period of her death. When the dan
ger increased. Dr. Mayerne, according to a pro
mise he had given her, told her, twenty-four hours
before her decease, that she could not recover. It
was then tee late for the Queen to make a vrill;
but she wished to leave all that she possessed,
with the exception of a jewel to the King of
Denmark, and a casket to the Princess Elizabeth,
to her son Charles, adding an assurance that
her faith was free from Popery. Although,
when asked if she vrished to leave all she had
to her son, she answered, and had again, " Yes,"
her possessions were so valuable, that the people
about the Court did not expect that her wishes
would be followed out without the usual formal
ities. Meantime, whilst her body lay at Den
mark House, her funeral was delayed, because
the Master of the Wardrobe would not pay
double prices, usually then charged when ready
money could not be produced. Crowds thronged
lasted only an hour. Lord Chancellor Bacon was among
those high personages who by his presence attempted to
ensure order ; but there was much spoliation even in the
face of day. The hall was re-erected three years afterwards.
This ancient building might, it is thought, have been saved ;
but two men, who saw the flames break out, went away
for fear of being blamed.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 225
round Denmark House ; and far more curiosity
was expressed to see her after her death than had
ever been testified during her Ufe. The ladies
were weary of waiting tUl the money could be
raised te carry te the grave one who had left
400,000?. in jewels, 90,000^. in plate, 80,000
Jacobuses in ready money , besides a costly ward
robe.^' " The will," says the precise Mr. Cham
berlain, in a letter te Sir Dudley Carleton, " proves
to be nothing." '^ The King, meantime, was dan
gerously Ul, of an agonising disease, and obliged
te be carried part ef the way to Theobalds in
a NeapoUtan portative chair, given him by Lady
Hatton; weak as he was, and even whUst the
Queen was unburied, he would have his deer
brought before him, that he might enjoy his
wonted pleasures. The lady mourners were, mean
time, quarrelling by the funeral bier for precedency
at the approaching ceremonial ; and, amongst the
foremost of the combatants was the Countess ef
Nottingham, who claimed, as one of the two con
ditions of Nottingham's giving up the post of
Lord High Admiral, that he should be the first
Earl of England, and that she, as first Countess,
should step out before aU others en this occasion.
The expenses of the funeral were to exceed those
"' State Papers. Calendar, vol. cvii., No. 7.
»2 Ibid, 52.
VOL. I. Q

226 LIFE AND TIMES OF
of Queen Elizabeth's, although money was so
scarce, that some of Queen Anne's plate would have
to be coined three times to pay them. There was
not even money to put the King's and Prince's
servants in mourning ; and, though Anne died
en the twenty-first of March, the twenty-seventh
of March found her stUl in ghastly state at Den
mark House.^* At length, on the fourteenth of
May, the corpse, with Prince Charles riding be
fore it, was carried to its resting place. The
chariot and six horses, on which the Queen's
effigy was placed, and the hearse itself, were very
stately, yet the funeral was pronounced to be a
" poor, drawling sight." Two hundred and fifty
indigent women followed the hearse. The Coun
tess of Arundel claimed and obtained her pri
vilege to follow as first Countess; whilst Buck
ingham's place, as paU-bearer, was supplied by
the Earl of Rutland.
The Queen's death took away aU chance of
that counter-infiuence which it is possible that
Anne might have sought te exercise when the
conduct of Buckingham became, as it eventuaUy
did, oppressive and overbearing. It left, also,
her sen, whese affectionate nature had found a
return in his mother's partiality for him, depend
ent whoUy upon Buckingham as a mediator
" State Papers, vol. cviii., No. 85. Calendar.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 227
with his father. Shortly afterwards, ene of
the effects of this state of affairs was exhi
bited. The King, upen the Prince's suit, granted
the Marquis ef Buckingham an estate of twelve
hundred a year, that had belonged to the Queen ;
and to requite this service, Buckingham sued the
King for an addition of 5,000Z. a year to the
Prince's former allowance, which was also granted.
It appears, however, that the estate assigned
te Buckingham was given, ostensibly, for the care
which the favourite had bestowed on His Majesty
during a severe iUness which had followed closely
upon the death of Queen Anne."*
Hitherto, the young favourite had proved him
self possessed ef no higher quaUties than those
which a courtier's life requires. He was now
placed in a situation which drew forth abilities of
which his enemies and his friends were alike ig
norant. On the thirtieth day of January, 1618-19,
Buckingham was created Lord High Admiral ; a
pest which he at first refused to accept en account
of his youth and inexperience. James would, how
ever, admit of no excuse, and the aged Earl of Not
tingham resigned that pre-eminent place, aUeging
as a reason, his advanced years, but, actuaUy,
fer a " consideration." According to one authority,
the compensation was a pension of six hundred a
" Nichols^ iii., 546.
q2

228 LIFE AND TIMES OF
year to his lady, of five hundred to his son, Charles
Howard, and of two hundred and fifty to his
daushter, to commence from the death of the
Earl; or, as another statement gives it, the compact
was made for certain benefits ; namely, " a good
round sum of ready money, and 3,000?. yearly pen-,
sion during the Earl's life ; and after his decease,
1,000Z. pension to his lady, and 500?. a year to
his eldest son by her, which was to be doubled to
him at his mother's death.""''
The office of High Admiral was enjoyed by
Buckingham to the close of his short life; and
was maintained by energy such as had not been
v.itnessed in the administration of naval affairs
since the days of Queen Elizabeth. Little
credit has been assigned to him hitherto by
historians for his unwearied endeavours, not only
to restore, but actually te create a navy ; but the
recent discoveries in the State Paper Office place
his merits In this Important sphere beyond dispute,
as wUl hereafter be shown."^
He served, indeed, a master, whose confidence"
in him, based, perhaps, on more solid grounds than
have been allowed, it was no easy task te dis
turb. , ==¦ Letter from Sir Edward Harwood to Sfr Dudley
Carleton. State Paper Office. Domestic, 1618-19.
se Bfrch's MSS., British Museum, 4173. Letter of Oct.
3, 1618.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 229
Buckingham would have acted wisely, had he,
at this most critical period of his Ufe, remembered
the counsels given by Bacon in his famous
" Letter to Sir George VUliers." " You are as a
new risen star, and the eyes of aU men are upon
you ; let net your own negligence make you faU
like a meteor." But his youth, his sudden rise to
fortune, his mother's infiuence, and his own
desire to elevate his family — an aim which mili
tated against disinterested conduct — aU contri
buted te smother the naturally generous Impulses
of his heart.
The King's partiality was manifested both
pubUcly and privately. Buckingham had been
his attendant in iUness ; he was new his consoler
in affliction; for the King was not insensible
to the loss of a wife te whom, in spite of " some
matrimonial wrangling,""'' he had been an in
dulgent husband. Accordingly, when the funeral
made for the Queen took place, Buckingham
remained at Theobalds with his royal master."*
His great object appears, at this period of his
career, to have been the aggrandisement of
his famUy. He had secured the prosperity of
his elder brother. Sir John VUUers, by his mar
riage with the daughter of Sir Edward Coke;
" Miss Strickland's Life of Anne of Denmark.
» Nichols, iii. 539.

230 LIFE AND TIMES OF
he now determined to effect that of his youngest
brother. Sir Christopher Villiers, not by marry
ing him to the niece ef a rich alderman, but
by other methods. Already had he availed
himself of his empire over the actions of
Bacon,"' to procure for his relatives ene of those
profitable sinecures which abounded in that
reign. This was a monopoly for the licensing of
ale houses, which Buckingham desired to engross,
conjointly vrith Mr. Patrick Maule, for his
brother. But there was an impediment — the
monopoly had been deemed a grievance, and In
1617, Bacon had replied to Buckingham's appU
cation for it in the foUovrinar terms : —
"I have conferred vrith my Lord Chief
Justice and Mr. Solicitor thereupon, and there Is
a scruple in it that It should be one of the
grievances put down in Parliament ; which, if it
be, I may not. In my duty and love to you,
advise you to deal in it ; if it be not, I wIU mould
in the best manner and help It forward." ^^ In a
subsequent letter, three years afterwards. Bacon
again discourages tbe continued solicitude ex
pressed by Buckingham for the patent; for, in
alluding to the patents " as like to be stirred in
the lower house of parUament," he mentions
»» Made Chancellor on the 4th of January, 1617.
»» Bacon's Works, vol. ii., p 201, note.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 231
among them that of the ale houses; and re
commending, through the "singular love and af
fection he bore to Buckingham," that his Lordship,
" whom God hath made In all things so fit to be
beloved, would put off the envy of these things,"
which, according to Bacon's judgment, " would
bear no great fruit, and rather take the means
for ceasing them, than the note for maintaining
them." 6'
It was probably, on finding his first application,
though assisted by his mother, useless, that Buck
ingham contrived a match between Sir Sebastian
Harvey's ^^ only daughter and Sir Christopher
VUUers. " The match," writes Mr. Chamberlain,
" being not to the joy ef the poor father, so much
against the old man's stomach, as the conceit
thereof hath brought him near his grave already,
if at least the world mistake not the true cause
of his sickness." ®*
The marriage was urged on, nevertheless, by
the Countess of Buckingham, who found, how
ever, that Sir Sebastian, then the Lord Mayer, a
wilful and dogged man, could net by any means,
either foul or fair, be brought te yield ; in the agony
of his spirit,* the old man vrished himself and his
«' Bacon's Works, p. 225.
^ The Lord Mayor.
"Nichols, 548.

232 LIFE AND TIMES OP
daughter dead, rather than be compelled to comply.
The tmth is, the young lady was only in her four
teenth year, and verysmaU In stature, and her father
did not wish her to be married untU four or five
years afterwards. He was, nevertheless, inces
santly annoyed with messages from the King;
and these he took so much to heart that he was
brought to death's door, although Buckingham
and others were sent to comfort him. The Lord
Mayor and aldermen had net been present at the
Queen's funeral ; and the King, wishing to please
Harvey, and te atone for this apparent insult,
ordered that St. Paul's Cross should mourn on
Trinity Sunday, and that the Mayor and Corpo
ration should go there as mourners ; but Harvey,
"sick and surfeited, declined attendance; nor, when
his Majesty, on the fifth of June, made his triumph
ant entry into London, was he weU enough »to
receive him. In truth, the honest pride of English
men began to revolt against having the relatives of
the favourite forced upon them as sons-in-law.
The King, however, entered in state, attended by
Prince Charles and aU the nobUity — Buckingham,
of course, a conspicuous object amid the throng.
James, on this melancholy occasion, looked
"more Uke a wooer than a mourner." He
had already laid aside his weeds for Queen Anne.
A fresh suit of " watchet satin, laid with a blue

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 233
and white feather," rejoiced the eyes of the com
pany, who were glad te see him so gaUant ; and
ill accorded with the expected appearance of an
embassy of condolence from the Due de Lorraine,
vrith two or three thousand persons all in deep
mouming.^* And when it was remembered that
the King had, not long ago, formally recom
mended, as on his death-bed, his son, his favourite,
and Lord Digby — who had suffered, he said, in
popularity, for the Spanish match — to his council,
and had expected his decease shortly, there was
something almost ludicrous in the contrast.
The desired match did not, hewe ver, prosper, not
vrithstanding a visit from James to the Lord May
or's own residence, soon afterwards, to expostulate
with the old man. He also sent for Sir Sebastian, his
wife, and daughter, from their dinner, in Merchant
Taylor's HaU, in order to recommend Sir Christo
pher as a suitor ; but all was in vain, Buckingham
was defeated, and the young lady was eventually
united tc the eldest son of Sir Francis Popham.*"
Disappointed in this matter, Buckingham now
manifested his Intentions of improving his own
fortunes by a successful marriage ; various objects
of attraction had been offered to his gaze, but
they wanted, probably, that which his ex-
" State Papers, vol. cix ; No. 76. Calendars.
'^ Nichols, vol., iii. p. 556.

234 LIFE AND TIMES OP
travagance rendered essential — fortune. On
one occasion, we find him, with the King, visit
ing a house In order to admire the beauty of
one of his god-daughters, but no result followed.
The world, too, now talked loudly of the marriage of
Lady Diana CecU vrith the Earl of Oxford, whilst
a richer bride was given, by common report, to
Buckingham. This was the Lady Katherlne
Manners, the only daughter of Francis, sixth
Earl of Rutland, a nobleman of great wealth ; the
lady was also endowed with other attractions
besides fortune, proring a woman of many attain
ments and great spirit.
This marriage was, in every respect, desirable.
It produced, amongst one of its advantages, an
alUance in blood with the Ulustrious Sydueys.
Roger, fifth Earl ef Rutland, the brother of Earl
Francis, having married Sir PhUip Sydney's
daughter and heiress.^ It cemented a union vrith
a house already favoured by King James, who risit
ed Belvoir Castle repeatedly, and who had consti
tuted its two last lords successively Chief Justices
in Eyre of all his forests and chases north ef the
Trent, beside conferring other distinctions ; lastly,
it offered to Buckingham a prospect of domestic
happiness with a lady of considerable wit and
spirit, and one whose affectionate attachment to
™ Brydges's Peers of James I.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 235
her husband was amply testified by her letters and
conduct during their union.
One drawback, however, existed. The Lady
Katherine was a Reman Catholic ; and, although
passionately attached to Buckingham, she, for
some time, refused to ge to church. Through the
exertions, however, ef the celebrated WUliams,
then Dean of SaUsbury, and afterwards Lord
ChanceUor, she was ultimately converted. It
was for her benefit that he composed his work,
entitled, " A Manual ef the Elements ef the Ortho
dox Religion, by an old Prebend ; " only twenty
copies of which were printed, and these were all
presented to the Marquis of Buckingham.^^ Such
was the success of WUlIams's arguments, or the
influence of the young lady's affection for her
suitor, that, shortly before her marriage, a pubUc
profession of the reformed faith was made by Lady
Katherine, on her partaking of the Holy Com
munion at the altar of a Protestant church.**
Various were the rumours at Court concerning
the progress of the engagement, which went on "un-
towardly ; " amongst ethers, that the Countess of
Buckingham, having taken the young lady away
from her home, the Countess of Rutland, Lady
Katherine's step-mother, had refused to receive
«' Nichols, vol. iii., p. 589.
» Ibid, vol. iv., p. 606.

236 LIFE AND TIMES OP
her back : the King was said to be in the
plot.*' The future Duchess of Buckingham was the only
chUd ofthe Earl of Rutland, by his first wife, Fran
ces, the widow of Sir WilUam Berile, of Kilkhamp-
ton, Cornwall ; '" and, during the lifetime of her
mother, she was regarded as the sole heiress of all
the wealth of her father. Upon the death of the
first Countess of Rutland, the Earl married again,
his second lady being the daughter of the Earl of
Thanet, and the widow of Sir Henry Hungerford,
Two sons were the offspring of this union, but
before the courtship of Buckingham, death re
moved them from being obstacles to Lady
Katherine's prosperity. They died in their
infancy, from the effects, as it was believed in those
credulous days, of wicked practices and sorcery.".
It was this celebrated case which Is said to have
convinced King James, before sceptical on the
subject, of the existence of witchcraft, of the real
agency ef the power of darkness.''^ The instru
ments ef the foul fiend were three women in the
«» State Papers, vol. cxiii.. No. 38.
'° Which afterwards came to the GranviUes, hence the
name of Bevile GranviUe.
" This lady is said to have died in consequence of some
medicine given her by Sfr W. Ralegh ; — a slanderous accu
sation. " Granger, from Howell. Art. Rutland.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 237
service of the Earl of Rutland, Joan Flower, and
her two daughters, who were stated to have
entered into a formal contract with the devU, and
to have become "devUs incarnate themselves.'
Being dismissed from Belvoir Castle, en account
of bad conduct, they made use ef aU the enchant
ments, speUs, and charms that the black art
comprised. Henry Lord Rees, the eldest bom of the house
of Rutland, sank under the effects ef these demo
niacal influences, or rather, probably, from chUd
ish terrors, in 1613.''^
The Lady Katherine did not escape their
machinations, having, vrith her brother Francis,
been tortured by Flower and her accomplices.'^''
Five years after the supposed exercise of their
vritchcraft, these wretched women were appre
hended, and upon being rigidly examined by Lord
WiUoughby d'Eresby, Sir George Manners, and
others, were committed to Lincoln gaol. Joan
died on her way to prison, whilst wishing the
bread and butter which she was eating, might
'" State Papers, vol. cxii., No. 104.
'¦• Even King James, it is said, was not exempt from the
designs of the wicked. In the State Paper Office is the fol
lowing entry: — "A man named Peacock, a schoolmaster, to
be committed to the Tower and tortured, ' for practising
sorcery on the King, to infatuate him in Sfr Thomas Lake's
business,' " , ,

238 LIFE AND TIMES OP
choke her if she were guilty. The two daughters
were tried, confessed their guilt, and were exe
cuted at Lincoln.
By the death of her brother, Lady Katherine,
whose more advanced years, and probably, whose
courage and sense enabled her to master the dark
terrors of the vricked Joan and her daughters,
became a personage of no Uttle importance in
those venal times, when even a show of affection
was scarcely thought necessary for the preliminary
arrangements of the nuptial tie. Belvoir, her
father's proud possession, stands upon the emi
nence, the fine prospect from which gave It the
name it bears, in all its stately antiquity.'" It
was built in the time of the Conqueror, by Robert
de Belvedeir, standard-bearer te the monarch.
The edifice is seated on the confines of the
counties of Lincoln and Leicester, Nottingham
and Rutland, and It commanded. In the time
of Francis Manners, until the present day, foui>
teen lordships.'^ Of this domain. Lady Kathe
rine was now sole heiress. Repeated visits had
been made by King James to it, and, indeed, a
sojourn at Belvoir was always a principal feature
" The interior was destroyed by fire, in 1816 ; it has
been rebuilt in a style of great magnificence.
" The present Duke of Rutland traces his descent in
dfrect line from the founder of the castle, Robert de Belve-
defr.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 239
in a royal progress. A singular custom was
formerly observed on the occasion of a royal
visit to this castle. A famUy in Nottinghamshire,
who held the Manor of Staunton, by the office of
castle guard of the strong hold of Belvoir Castle,
called the Staunton Tower, were required to
present the keys of that tower to the monarch,
in the same manner as the keys of a town are
offered. The tenure required, in feudal times,
that — " Unto this forte with force and flagge.
The Staunton's stock should sticke,
For to defende against the foe.
Which at the same might kicke.""
The office of castle guard has long become a
sinecure, but the importance of maintaining all
those forms was such, that in 1618 a writ of
inquiry was issued to shew why the Castle of
Belvoir should net faU into the king's hands, on
account of some aUenation. " This," says a
modern writer, "might appear an ungrateful
return to the earl for his hospitality ; but it was
" In January, 1814, when George TV., then Prince Regent,
was received at Belvofr Castle, the key of Staunton Tower,
of gold, and beautifully wrought, was presented to him in
the drawing-room, on a gold cushion, by the Rev. Dr.
Staunton, with a suitable address. Nichols's Progress, vol. ii.,
p. 458.

240 LIFE AND TIMES OP
the customary process when property held under
the crovra became, on any occasion, aUenated." ™
At Belvoir, James made, on one occasion, a
considerable number of knights, and, notwith
standing his writ of inquiry, he visited the hos
pitable palace every second or third year, from
1612 to 1621. In 1612, Henry, Prince of Wales,
met his father at Belvoir Castle, riding thither
frem Richmond in two days, and received "very
honourable entertainment " from Francis, Earl of
Rutland, who, but a fortnight before, had attended
the funeral of his brother at Bettesford."
In August, 1619, the king again risited
Belvoir, but it does not appear certain that
Buckingham accompanied his royal master.
Probably, the preliminaries to the union which
subsequently took place, may have been entered
inte en that occasion. Early in the foUowing
year, the marriage contract was signed, a ceremo
nial which generally preceded the completed
marriage by a period of forty days. In this
instance, that event did not take place untU the
sixteenth of May.
In the interim, Buckingham, either threugh the
impatience of a lover, or, what is more likely,
fearful ef losing, from objections, the heuress of
'° The whole of the castle stands in Leicestershfre.
'" Note in Nichols's Progresses, vol. i., p. 490.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 241
Belvoir, took a step which cannot be condemned
without a full knowledge of every circumstance
connected with it ; but which seemed, en the first
view, aUke discreditable to the lover and to his
mistress. He induced the Lady Katherine to
leave her father's house, and conveyed her to his
own apartments at Whitehall. Of this transac
tion, an account is given by Arthur Wilson,
whose puritanical principles caused him to regard
Buckingham vrith disUke, ahd perhaps te misre
present his conduct, and Buckingham is stated te
have kept the lady there for several days, and
then to have returned her to her father. " The
stout old earl," pursues the same writer, " sent
him this threatening message, ' That he was too
much of a gentleman to suffer such an Indignity,
and if he did not marry his daughter, to repair
her honour, no greatness should protect him from
his justice.' " It is conjectured that this elopement
may have been contrived by Buckingham, in
order te extort from the Earl of Rutland an ua-
wUUng consent. He quickly, therefore, says
WUson, " salved the wound before it grew to a
quarrel ; and if this marriage stopped the current
ef his sins, he had the less to answer for." ^^
Such is one account of the obstacles which im
peded that good understanding which afterwards
«» WUson's Life of James I., p. 149.
VOL. I. E

242 LIFE AND TIMES OF
existed between the Earl of Rutland and his son-in-
law. It appears, however, from an unpubUshed
document in the State Paper Office, that Bucking
ham's exorbitant demands had disgusted the Earl ;
these were, 20,000Z. in ready money, 4,000?. in land
a year, and, in case of Lord Roos's death, 8,000?. In
land. On this account, at first, had the match been
broken off, but renewed upon the death of the son
and heir, an event which some ascribed to vritchcraft,
others to the faUing sickness, to which the poor youth
was subject. Rumour also attributed the Inter
ruption of the marriage-treaty to the religious
scruples of Buckingham.'^
After his daughter had left his house, the Earl
wrote a letter, half indignant, half relenting, to
Buckingham. In this epistle, the feeUngs of a
father's struggle with the offended honour of the
man. "I confess," he writes to Buckingham,
"I took no great councU in this business, for
nature taught me that I was te advise my daugh
ter to avoid the occasion of Ul, as confidently as I
assure myself she is of ill." The aggrieved and
unhappy parent had perhaps,, afterwards, reason
to retract that bitter expression. "I confess,"
he adds, " I had noble offers from you, but I ex
pect real performance, which I hope in the end
" Letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sfr Dudley Carleton.
Inedited State Papers, March llth, 1619-20.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 243
wiU bring comfort te us both." " His daughter,"
he touchingly remarks, " deserves ne so great a
care from a father whom she little esteems," as
he had shown her ; " yet," adds the Earl, " I must
preserve her honour, if it were with the hazard of
my life. And for calUng our honours in question,"
he proceeds, " pardon me, my lord, that cannot be
any fault of mine ; for you would have me think
that a contract, which. If you wiU make it se, be
it as secret as you wUl, this matter is only at an
end ; therefore, the fault is only your lordship's if
the world talk of us both."
AU that the father demanded was, to use his own
words, addressing Buckingham, as follows, " proof
that she is yours, and then you shall find me tract
able, Uke a loving father; although she is not worthy
in respect ef her neglect to me ; yet, it being once
done, her love and due respects to your lordship
shaU make me forget that which I confess I now am
too sensible ef." " To conclude, my lord, this is
my resolution, if my conscience may not be fuUy
satisfied she Is yours, take your own courses; I
must take mine, and I hope I may arm myself
vrith patience, and not vrith rage. Your lordship
shaU even find I wUl be as careful of your honeur
as I shall be tender of mine own ; and this is my
resolutlon."^^ '2 From Court and Times of King James. Bishop Good
man, vol. ii., p. 189.
e2

244 LIFE AND TIMES OF
To this searching letter, wrung from a father,
uncertain how far his daughter had for ever
exposed herself te shame, hoping, yet fearing, lest
it might not prove so, and that she had faUen Into
honourable hands, Buckingham thus replied : —
"My Loed,
" Your mistaking in your fashion of deal
ing with a free and honest heart, together with
your froward carriage towards your ovra daughter,
enforced me the ether day to pest te Hampton
Court, and there east myself at His Majesty's feet,
confessing freely unto him aU that hath ever passed
in privacy between your lordship and me concern
ing your daughter's marriage, lest othervrise, by
this, your public miscarriage ef the business, It
might by other means, to my disadvantage, have
come to his knowledge. And now that I have
obtained my master's pardon for this, my first
fault, for concealing, and going further in anything
than His Majesty was acquainted with, I can
delay no longer of declaring unto you how un
kindly I take your harsh usage of me and your
own daughter, which hath wrought this effect in
me ; that, since you esteem so Uttle of my friend
ship and her honour, I must now, contrary to my
former resolution, leave off the pursuit of that
aUiance any mere, putting it in your free choice

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 245
to bestow her elsewhere, to your best comfort;
for, whose fortune it shall ever be to have her, I
will constantly profess that she never received any
blemish in her honour but which came by your
own tongue. It is true I never thought before to
have seen the time that I should need to come
within the compass of the law, by stealing of a
wife against the consent ef the parents, consider
ing of the favours that it pleaseth His Majesty,
though undeservedly, to bestow upon me. So
leaving this te you and your wife's censure,
" I rest,
" Your lordship's servant,
" Buckingham." *'
These protestations on the part ef Buckingham,
that the honour ef Lady Katharine was untouched,
are confirmed by the following extracts from certain
letters relative to the affair, by which it is evident,
first, that James himself promoted the abduction
of the young heiress, and, secondly, that the
Countess of Buckingham, whilst she favoured her
son's schemes, never suffered the reputation ef her
daughter-in-law te be injured, since she did not,
for an instant, permit her to leave her presence
during the temporary absence from her father's
house. "From Harleian, 1581, p. 134.

246 LIFE AND TIMES OP
"There is an accident happened which breeds
great stir in town, which is concerning the taking
away of the Earl of Rutland's daughter, by my
Lady Buckingham. Nobody knows what to
think of It, but, in my opinion, the King is in the
plot, for, with aU his arts, he could net persuade
her to go te church, to which it may be, they think,
she refuses to come by reason of her mother and
father. Now, you may remember what my lord
said to your lordship, that he would net marry
one who did not come to church. She loveth
him, and I think now he makes trial of her,
whether she will forsake aU the world for his
sake."8* " But the Lady Buckingham sayeth her father
desired her to take her abroad vrith her, which she
did, having his fatherly love imposed on her that
she should not go out of her sight. She feU ill
towards night, and rather than send her home
with waiting gentlewomen, kept her that night
to lie with herself, and brought her home the
next day; her mother refusing to take her, so
she went back, and there abided."*"
'* Buckingham.
«5 Inedited State Papers. Letter from Sfr Edward Zouch
to Lord Zouch, February 5th, 1619-20. Domestic. Sfr
Edward Zouch was a much esteemed wit and courtier. His
family is now nearly, if not wholly extinct. — Brydges's
Peers of King James, p. 71.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 247
Another account states that the " Lady of Buck
ingham" fetched the young lady away one Sunday,
without her father's either leave or liking, " so that
the next day he refused to receive her back, and
Lady Katherine was obliged to take refuge vrith
her uncle, being her nearest relation." Neither
party, it was observed, gained by this mode
of dealing, which was "subject te much con
struction." *^
It Is touching te find the Earl ef Rutland, some
years afterwards, excusing himself from visiting
the Court, that he might bear his daughter com
pany in her solitude at Burleigh, during the long
interval in which Buckingham, attending on the
King at Windsor, left her in that then remote
country seat, in retirement.*"
A coolness, however, continued for some time
between these two noblemen ; for en St. George's
day, which was observed with much solemnity at
Greenwich, the now haughty Buckingham showed
his resentment against the Earl ef Rutland by re
fusing to be consorted with him in one mess;
and, coupling himself vrith the Earl of Leicester,
left his future father-in-law alone, " and yet," as
s« Inedited State Papers. Letter dated March 20th,
1619-20. -
" State Papers. Letter from the Earl of Rutland.
Domestic. 1625.

••- ^'^ ffliy;*fl*" V^Vf '^J - ,.

248 LIFE AND TIMES OP
a contemporary relates, "the opinion Is, the match
must go on vrith his daughter, or else de her great
wrong as well In other respects ; so, fer his sake and
his mother's, she Is to be converted and receive the
communion this Easter." **
The marriage took place eventuaUy, at Lumley
House, a mansion built in the time of Henry the
Eighth, by Sir Thomas Wyatt, on the site of the
ancient Monastry ef Crutched Friars, near Tower
jjyj_89 ijjjg ceremonial was conducted with great
privacy, probably en account of the vexatious
and awkward circumstances which had previously
occurred.^" It does not appear to which of his magnificent
mansions the Marquis ef Buckingham took his
bride, after he had at last obtained possession of
her hand. The man who only four years pre
viously had appeared before a host ef scoffing
courtiers, in a thread-bare black suit, and whose
slender aUowance scarcely kept him from abso
lute penury, was new the owner of several stately
residences. His ap9,rtments at WhitehaU were held
ss Nichols, iv., 606.
s' This house was afterwards inhabited by^ the Lumley
family. The navy office was once here, until removed to
Somerset House. The immense warehouses belonging to
the East India Company, now cover the spot where Buck
ingham's nuptials took place. — See Pennant's London, p. 237.
» Nichols, vol. iv., p. 607.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 249
by virtue of his various offices near the King's per
son. That palace was the constant residence of James
the First when in London. It was, at this time,
in a very ruinous state, and the Banqueting House
had been recently burned down. Inigo Jones" was,
indeed, employed in rebuilding it upon an exten
sive plan, only a portion of which was completed.
It is, therefore, very unlikely that the honey
moon would be passed in the midst of noise and
dust, although WhitehaU, partiaUy surrounded, as
it was, by beautiful gardens, was not, by any
means, devoid of that rural beauty for which the
denizens of a royal metropoUtan palace may now
look in vain. Wanstead House, in Essex, which
had escheated to the crown in 1606, upon the death
of Charles Blount, Earl of Devonshire, was the first
residence that Buckingham could properly caU his
ovra. He obtained it by a royal grant, and the
King seems to have been weU repaid ,for that act
ef generosity, by the pleasure which he took in
visiting his favourite there. Burlelgh-on-the-HIU,
or Burleigh Harrington, so caUed to distinguish
it from Burleigh Stamford, had been bought by
Buckingham from the heir-general of the Harring
ton famUy, Inte whose possession It had come by
»> He was called by the Earl of Pembroke, "Iniquity Jones."
It is said, in that nobleman's MS., that he had 16,000Z.
a year for keeping the King's houses in repafr. — Walpole's
Anecdotes of Painting, vol. ii., p. 271.

250 LIFE AND TIMES OP
purchase in the time ef Queen Elizabeth. It was
seated upon a hill, rising abruptly frem the vale
of Catmore, commanding a view of the country
around, and protecting the vlUage of Burleigh.
At Burlelgh-on-the-HIU, King James was enter
tained during his first journey into England;
there he was received by Sir John Harrington,
who was then its owner.
After Burleigh had become the possession of the
Marquis ef Buckingham, he made it one of the most
splendid seats in the island, untU it not only rivaUed,
but, in some respects, exceUed, Belvoir.^' Both
the Marchioness oi Buckingham and the Countess
took a great interest in the place. In one of her
letters to her husband, the Marchioness writes thus:
" For Burly Shaw the waU Is not very forward yett,
and my lady " (her mother-in-law, the Countess of
Buckingham) " bid me send you werd that shee is
gon done to look how things ar ther. Shee ses
shee Is about making a litell river te rune through
the parke. It will be about xvi. foote broode.
But shee ses shee wants money ."^'
This magnificent structure, in which many a
revel took place, and beneath whose roof many a
masque was enacted, was not destined to remain a
monument ef Buckingham's splendour. Its very
« Wright's History of Rutland, 1684, p. 30.
»' Nichols, vol. iv., p. 778.'

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 251
strength proved its destruction; for it was, on
that account, selected, during the Rebellion, as a
garrison for the Parliamentarian troops, in order
that they might, frem that commanding station, at
once harass the surrounding country, and protect
their county committee. But they were unable
to maintain the long Une of defence which the
extensive buUdings presented, and therefore set
them on fire, and thus, destroying the house and
ftuniture, they deserted Burleigh.
The stables alone remained; and these alone
perpetuated the magnificence of their first
owner, oelng the finest in England. The ruins of
Burleigh long served as a memento ef the devasta
tions of civU war, for the sen and successor ef
George ViUiers was unable to restore them. The
estate was sold eventuaUy to Daniel, Earl of
Nottingham, who rebuUt the house, but of the
structure which the princely taste of Bucking
ham planned, and which his lady mother embel
lished vrith her taste, little or no trace remains.^*
Newhall, in Essex, was another residence ofthe
Marquis ef Buckingham's. This property was pur
chased after Burleigh, in 1622, and was considered
a great bargain, the money paid for it being
twenty thousand pounds, for which there was a
" York House was not at present in his possession.

252 LIFE AND TIMES OF
return of 1,200?. a year in land, whUst the wood was
valued at about 4,000?. or 5,000?. The house, which
cost originaUy 14,000?. In building, was immediately
put under the hands of Inigo Jones, the King's sur
veyor, "to alter and translate" according to the
modem fashion.'" It Is described by Evelyn,
who visited it in 1656, In the following terms : — " I
saw New HaU, buUt in a park, by Henry VIL
and VIIL, and given by Queen Elizabeth to the
Earl of Sussex, who sold It to the late great Duke
of Buckingham ; and since selz'd en by 0. Crom
weU (pretended Protector). It Is a faire old house,
built vrith brick, low, being only ef two stories, as
the manner then was ; ye gatehouse better ; the
court large and pretty, the staircase of extraordi
nary wideness, with a piece representing Sir F.
Drake's action in the year 1580, an exceUent sea-
piece ; ye galleries are trifling ; the haU is noble ;
the garden a faire plot, and the whole seate weU
accommodated with water ; but, above all, I
admir'd the fine avenue, planted with stately lime
trees, in foure rowes, fer neere a mile in length. It
has three descents, which is the only fault, and
may be reform'd. There is another faire walk of
ye same at the mall and wildernesse, with a
tennis-court, and a pleasant terrace towards the
« Nichols, p. 881, from Harleian MSS., 6987.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 253
park, which was well stor'd with deere and
ponds."5« Our ancesters understood weU the adaptation ef
what may be called landscape gardening, to the
style of their stately edifices ; and Buckingham
appears te have displayed in his improvements the
magnificent and refined taste of a man whose
nature was noble, and who was Intended for a
holier career than that of a royal favourite.
Buckingham's deUght in improving his estates
soon found scope here. " I have not beene yet att
New Hall," wrote his lady to him, In 1623, when he
was in Spain, " but I do intend to go shortly to see
how things ar ther. The walk to the house Is done,
and the tenis-court Is aU most done, but the garden is
not done, nor nothing to the bouling greene, and
yett I told Totherby, and he tould me he would
sett men a worke presently ; but I warant you
they vrill all be redey before you come." In a
letter frem the Countess of Denbigh, she informs
her brother that there is one of the finest ap
proaches to the house made that she ever saw.
Buckingham, on his return frem Spain, seems to
have enjoyed thoroughly the sight of NewhaU, in
all Its freshness, and to have gloried in its sylvan
beauties. " I have found this morning," he writes
'= For a fuller history of Newhall, see Nichols's Progresses
of Queen Elizabeth, vol. i., p. 94-6.

254 LIFE AND TIMES OP
to the King, " another fine wood that must go in
vrith the rest, and two hundred acres of meadows,
broomes, closes, and plentiful springs running
through them, so that I hope NewhaU shaU be
nothing inferior to Burleigh. My stags are aU
lusty, my calf bold, and others are so too. My
Spanish colts are fat, and so is my jerial fiUey." s'
How gladly must he have returned to those more
innocent pursuits of a country Ufe, that formed so
strong a contrast to the harassing existence of a
courtier.'^ Another place much coveted by Buckingham
was stoutly refused, even to the aU-powerfnl
favourite. This was Beddington Hall, in Surrey,
then possessed, and still Inhabited, by the ancient
family ef Carew, on whom it was bestowed,
haring been before a royal manor, by Queen
Elizabeth. It was, probably, its vicinity to
London which increased Buckingham's desire to
possess this fine old house, with its stately
precincts. " The Marquis," as we leam frem a private
letter ef the day, from London, " would settle him
self hereabout, and Is much in love with Bedding-
ton, near Croyden, having won over the King,
¦" Harleian MSS., 6987., quoted in Nichols's Progresses of
King James.
" Newhall is now a nunnery.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 255
Prince, and others, to move Sir Nicholas Carew
about it ; but it seems he wUl not be removed, by
reason his uncle bestowed it so frankly on him,
with purpose to continue his memory there, and
to that end caused him te change his name. If
his lordship would have patience, he would soon
find out many places convenient enough, or, at
farthest, stay for Gorhambury, whereof (they say)
he hath the reversion after my Lord Chancellor's
Ufe, but upon what terms and conditions is only
between themselves." °^
Wanstead House was another seat of Buck
ingham's. The viUage which bears that name
is situated on the borders of Waltham Forest;
it commands a view of London and of Kent;
the prospect stretching over a fertile and beau
tiful country. The manor of Wanstead had
passed through various possessors to Sir John
Heron, whose son. Sir Giles, being attainted, it
was seized by the Crown. It was then granted
to Robert, Lord Rich, who buUt the Manor House,
then called Naked Hall House. The son of Lord
Rich sold it to Robert Dudley, Earl of Leices
ter ; and it thus became eventuaUy the residence of
two royal favourites. The unscrupulous Dudley
owned it forsome years. He enlarged and improved
'» Inedited Letters in the State Paper Office, Mr. Cham
berlain to Sfr Dudley Carleton, July 31, 1619.

256 LIFE AND TIMES OF
the house ; and here his marriage with the Countess
of Essex was solemnised in 1578.
At his death, Wanstead passed into the
hands of his widow. Lady Essex ; and the Earl
being much involved in debt, an inventory was
made of his property, real and personal. The
furniture at Wanstead was valued at one hundred
and nineteen pounds, six shUlings, and sixpence ;
the pictures at eleven pounds, thirteen shUUngs,
and fourpence. Such is the small amount of that
which was reckoned costly In these days ; yet
there were in this coUection original portraits of
Henry the Eighth, of his daughters, and Lady
Cartmills, Lady Rich, and thirty-six others not
particularized. The Ubrary, consisting of an old
Bible, of the Acts and Monuments, old and torn,
ef seven Psalters and a Service book, was valued
at thirteen shillings and eightpence. The horses,
however, were rated at three hundred and sixteen
pounds and threepence.
The Countess ef Essex married Sir Christopher
Blount, and by some family arrangements the
house was conveyed to his son, Charles Blount,
Earl of Devonshire. At his death it was escheated
te the Crown, and became the property of Buck
ingham. In 1619, he sold it to Sir WUUam
Mildmay ; ' and in our days this once noble
' Wright's Hist, of Essex, vol. ii., p. 502-3.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 257
possession, which has faUen, like its possessors,
te ruin and destruction, came into the family ef
the present Earl of Memington.^
A mineral spring was about this time dis--
covered at Wanstead, and there was such
"running there" by lords and ladles, that the
spring was almost "drawn dry," "and if It
should hold on," writes Mr. Chamberlain," it
would put down the waters at Tunbridge, which,
for these three or four years, have been much
frequented, speciaUy in summer, by many great
persons. Insomuch that they who have seen
both, say it is not inferior to the Spa for good
company, numbers ef people, and other appear
ances." ^
To one or other of these stately abodes Buck-
2 Nichols, vol. iii., p. 364.
' Sfr William Mildmay's descendants conveyed it to Sfr
Joseph Child, whose son Richard, afterwards created Earl of
TUney, buUt Wanstead House, weU known in modern days,
on the site of the mansion which had been the home of Lei
cester and of Buckingham. The new house was erected in
1715. It descended, in due time, to Miss Tilney Long, who
married the Hon. Wellesley Pole, now Earl of Moruington.
In 1825 she died, and Wanstead House was sold in lots
under the hammer. The park is now let out for grazing
cattle. The ancient church of Wanstead has also been
pulled down, and a new one erected ; so that those who
look for any traces of Leicester and Buckingham will not
find them at Wanstead. — Note in WrighCs '¦'• Essex,'" ^. 1150.
VOL. I S

258 LIFE AND TIMES OP
ingham perhaps conveyed his bride ; although the
custom of traveUing immediately after marriage
is one ef mere recent date. Such, however, were
the future homes of the young Marchioness.
The year succeeding the nuptials ofthe Marquis
was passed by him and his bride in a constant
round of courtly revels. During these festivities,
various incidents, ef Uttle import in themselves,
marked the determination of James to accom
pUsh the marriage which he now had at heart
between his son and the Infanta of Spain. The
sUghtest objection to that desired event was dan
gerous to the meanest of his subjects. A man named
Aimed, who held a subordinate situation, having
presented the Marquis of Buckingham with a
treatise against the match, was cast into prison
by the King's express commands.* Secretary
Naunton was suspended frem his situation for
treating with the French ambassador concerning
a union between the Prince and Henrietta
Maria, and was obliged to write an humble
acknowledgment ef his errors to Buckingham^
and to address te James an epistle penned, as he
expressed it, " In grief and anguish of spirit." "
Buckingham interposed in his behalf, and pre
vented the secretary's being tmmed out of his
* Nichols, V. 699.
' Bishop Goodman, ii., 228.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 259
lodgings at WhitehaU, by which many, looking
upon Naunton as a ruined man, for having lent an
ear te the proposal ef France, were already
intriguing.^ The Infatuation of James, pro
moted, it was believed, by the counsels of Buck
ingham, brought infinite disgrace upon the English
court, and was repaid by the haughty Spaniards,
acting through the crafty Gondemar, with con
tempt. Even the pulpits were tuned, as Queen EUzabeth
would have said, te one key. " The King," Mr.
Chamberlain wrote to Sr Dudley Carleton,
"ordered the Bishop of London to warn his
clergy not te preach against the Spanish match,
but they do net obey."'
The resolution taken by James to withhold
assistance to the Bohemians in their revolt against
the power of Austria, and his determined refusal
to give to his son-in-law, who had been made
King of Bohemia, any higher title than that of
Prince Palatine, were resented by the jealous
people whom James was so incapable even of
comprehending, and his English subjects regarded
his neutrality with disgust. " The happiness and
tranquUUty of their own country," remarks
Hume, " became distasteful to the EngUsh when
' Bishop Goodman, 243.
' State Papers, Calendar, vol. cxviii.. No. 29.
S2

260 LIFE AND TIMES OP
they reflected on the grievances and distresses of
their Protestant brethren in Germany." Prince
Charles besought his father on his knees, and
with tears, to take pity upon his sister Elizabeth
and her family, and to suffer himself no longer to
be abused with treaties. The young and generous
Prince entreated the King, since His Majesty was
himself old, to aUow him to raise a royal army, and to
permit him to be the leader of It, being assured
that his subjects would be ready to feUow him.
To this James repUed, " that he would hear once
more from Spain, and that if he had not satisfac
tion, he would give his son and the state leave to
do what they woiUd." *
Still James was deaf aUke te arguments and
to parental affection, and defended his pacific
measures upon the notion that Austria, swayed
by his justice and moderation, would restore the
Palatinate, which had beeti wrested from Frederic,
his son-in-law, by Spinola, especiaUy if his son's
marriage with the Infanta were effected. He
was bUnd to the fact that his powers ef negotia
tion would be whoUy unable to achieve this end,
nor when it was achieved, would the result be
such as his hopes anticipated. His reluctance to
engage In war, his want of courage in avowing to
" Letter in Bishop Goodman's Life, vol. ii., p. 215, from
Mr. Mead to Sfr M. StuteviUe.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 261
his subjects tbe measures which he meant to
pursue, were alike indicative of that pusUlanimous
spirit which exposed him to the contempt of
foreign courts, and rendered him unpopular at
heme. Not having called a parliament for seven years,
he now sent forth a writ of summons in the be
ginning of the year 1621 ; an event from
which all men " who had any religion," as Sir
Symonds D'Ewes expressed it, " hoped much good,
and daily prayed for a happy issue ; for both
France and Germany needed support and help
frem England, or the true professions of the
Gospel were likely to perish in each nation under
the power and tyranny of the anti-Christian
tyranny." The opening of ParUament was graced by a
splendid procession from Whitehall to West
minster; but although the progress was short, it
was varied by several significant circumstances.
Prince Charles appeared, en this occasion, riding
on horseback between the Sergeants-at-arms and
the Gentlemen Pensioners, with a rich coronet on
his head. Next before his Majesty rode Henry
Vere, Earl ef Oxford, Lord Great Chamberlain of
England, vrith Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel,
Earl Marshal. These noblemen were bare-headed.
Then appeared James, with a crown on his head.

262 LIFE AND TDIES OF
"and most royaUy caparisoned." But the per
sonage who excited the most general interest was
Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, a man only
sixty-three years of age, but accounted In those
days — such is the increased value of life in ours —
" decrepit vrith age." This nobleman, the son of
the Protector Somerset, was dear te the people as
the relative of Lady Jane Grey, whose sister, the
Lady Catherine, he had married; an act for
which he had incurred a long and unmerited
imprisonment in the time of EUzabeth. He died
shortly after the opening of parUament.
The King was now manifestly broken and in
firm ; the ' disease, then deemed Incurable, which
caused him intense agony, softened his petulance,
and produced a courtesy that touched the by
standers vrith pity. As he rede along, he spoke
often and lovingly to the crowd three-fold thick ;
calUng out, with more good-will than kingly
dignity, " God bless ye, God bless ye " — a strik
ing contrast to his usual practice, or, to use the
words of D'Ewes, te his " hasty and passionate
custom, which often, in his sudden distemper,"
would bid a plague upon those who flocked to
see him
Such was one of the remarks made on this day.
Another was, that whUst the windows ef WUIte-
hall were crowded by the great and fair, James

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 263
saluted none ef them as he passed along, except
the Marchioness of Buckingham and her mother-
in-law. He was observed to speak often and particu
larly to Gondemar, and his whole demeanour was,
for some time, kindly and cheerful.
On a sudden, however, his gracious counte
nance became overcast. On gazing up at one
window, he observed it te be full of gentlewomen
and ladies, aU In yeUow bands : this fashion had
been discountenanced at Court ever since the
trial of the Countess of Somerset; her accom
plice, Mrs. Turner, having been hanged, by sen
tence, "In her yellow tiffany ruffs and cuffs," she
being the first inventor of the yeUow starch.^
But certain "high-handed women," as King
James termed them, chose, it seems, perhaps out
of despite to Buckingham, to retain what was
conceived te be a memento of the Somerset fac
tion. No sooner did the King perceive th^n than
he cried eut " a plague take ye — are ye there ? "
and immediately the ladies, in alarm, vanished from
the window. James was so much exhausted by
his exertions this day, and by a speech ef an hour
long, in which nevertheless he commended brevity,
that he was obliged te be carried in a chair frem the
8 Nichols, iv., 630; and iii., 120.

264 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Abbey, where he attended service, to the Par
liament House.
By these and other symptoms, the people saw
too plainly that the interests of Spain were adopted
by the Favourite. Parliament, opened with so
much state and promise, was opposed to the
King's wishes, and deprecated the Spanish al
liance. Declamations against the growth of
Popery were continuaUy heard in that assembly,
and formed a constant feature In Its discussions
during the reign of the Stuarts ; these invectives
were now exasperated by the treaty with Spain,
and the indifference ef James to the sufferings of
the Protestant cause on the Continent. In the
House of Lords, the presence of Prince Charles,
around whom all the bishops, and most of the
courtiers, flocked, was supposed te overawe the
debates. AU this time, James had "engaged
his crown, blood, and soul," such were his
expressions, for the recovery of the Palati
nate. Nevertheless, he dissolved Parliament
early in the ensuing year ; and the fruitless
treaties and debasing intrigues went on as
usual.'" An embassy extraordinary from the French
King, who had visited Calais, proved the touch-
" WUson, Hume, Oldmixon.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 265
stone of much latent jealousy. An attendance of
fifty or sixty persons ef rank, and a retinue of
three hundred, gave to the Marquis de Cadenat,
brother to the Due de Luisues, the favourite of the
King ef France, aU the dignity that so numerous a
company ofthe flower of their country could ensure.
The ambassador and his suite were met at
Gravesend by the Earl of Arundel, and con
ducted to Denmark House, where the Earl,
merely accompanying the Marquis to the foot of
the first stair which led te his lodgings, took his
leave, saying that there were gentlemen there who
would show him te his apartments. This was a
decided sUght. Shortly afterwards, an affront
was given by the Countess of Buckingham,
ovring to her having placed the Marquise de
Cadenat and her niece, MademoiseUe de Luc,
at a ball at Whitehall, beneath her own
daughter-in-law, the Marchioness ef Bucking
ham. On the eighth ef January, a tilting match was
performed, to entertain the French Marquis,
wherein Prince Charles broke a lance with great
success. Amongst the tUters was the "beloved
Marquis of Buckingham," se called by Sir Symonds
D'Ewes, who thus describes the appearance ef the
Favourite on the occasion : —
" Seeing the Marquis of Buckingham discours-

266 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Ing with two or three French monsieurs, I joined
to them, and most earnestly viewed him for about
half-an-hour's space at the least, which I had the
opportunitle the more easiUe to accomplish, be
cause he stood all that time he talked, bareheaded,
I saw everything in him ftdl of deUcacie and hand
some features ; yea, his hands and face seemed
to me especiaUie effeminate and curious." The
contrast with the homely-featured foreigners who
surrounded him seems to have struck this not
very good-natured observer. " It Is possible," he
adds, " he seemed more accomplist, because the
French monsieurs that invested him weere verie
swarthie, hard-featured men."
AU irritation seems to have subsided by this
time, and the natural hospitality of weU-bred
Englishmen to have reappeared. In the midst
of the business and pleasure which occupied
the English Court, the unpopularity of the
Spanish match was, however, so apparent that
Gondomar begged to retire te Nonsuch Palace,
to avoid the " fear and fury " of Shrove Tues
day. In the summer of this year," James visited his
Favourite at Burleigh, when he was so much
pleased with his entertainment, that he could not
forbear expressing his contentment in certain
" 1620.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 267
verses, in which he said " that the air, the weather,
and everything else, even the stags and bucks In
their faU, did seem to smUe." The chief diversion
prepared for His Majesty was a masque by Ben
Jensen, entitled " The Metamorphosed Gipsies ; "
it was acted first at Burleigh, then at Belvoir, and
lastly at Windsor, within the course of a few
months. Buckingham employed the poet's pen at his
own expense, and himself enacted the Captain of
the gipsies ; and, in his disguise, marching up to
the King, he thus addressed him, with the free
dom of his lawless tribe : —
With you, lucky bird, I begin :
I aim at the best, and I trow you are he.
Here's some luck afready, if I understand
The grounds of mine art ; here's a gentleman's hand,
I'll kiss it for luck sake ; you should, by this line,'^
Love a horse and a hound, but no part of a swine ; "
To hunt the brave stag, not so much for the food
As the weal of your body and wealth of your blood.
In this fashion did Buckingham flatter the
tastes of James, who, priding himself on his
prowess in the chase, which he foUowed in a
" The line of hfe in Palmistry is the line encompass
ing the ball of the thumb. — See, for this masque, Giff'ord's
edition of Ben Jonson.
"James's known dislike of pork was one trait of his
Scottish descent.

268 LLFE AND TIMES OP
ruff and trowsers," was charmed with any allu
sion to his favourite diversion.
As the Captain of the Gipsies further pursued
the telUng of the King's fortune, his verse
changed its metre, and touched on more serious
themes : —
Could any doubt that saw this hand.
Or who you are, or what command
You have upon the state of things ?
Or would not say you were let down
From Heaven, on Earth, to be the Crown
And top of all your neighbour Kings ?
In another verse, he gracefiiUy referred to the
royal bounty to himself : —
Myself a gipsy here do shine.
Yet are you maker, sfr, of mine.
Oh ! that confession should content
So high a bounty, that doth know
No part of motion but to flow.
And giving, never to repent.
These poetical addresses were interspersed with
dances and songs. After the second dance, a
gipsy, supposed te be Viscount Purbeck, the
brother of the Marquis, paid a tribute to Prince
Charles : — As my Captain hath begun
'Wit'b the sfre, I take the son !
Your hand, sfr !
" Grainger.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 269
Of your fortune be secure.
Love and she are both at your
Command, sir I
See what states are here at strife.
Who shall tender you a wife,
A brave one?
And a fitter for a man
Than is offered here, you can
Not have one.
She is sister of a Star,
One, the noblest that now are.
Bright Hesper ;
Whom the Indians in the East,
Phosphor call, and in West,
Hight Vesper
Courses even with the sun
Doth her mighty brother run
For splendour.
— alluding to the boast of the Spaniards that
the sun never sets on their King's dominions.
The Marchioness of Buckingham was next
addressed, in these terms : —
But, lady, either I am tipsy.
Or you are in love with a gipsy ;
Blush not. Dame Kate,
For early or late,
I do assure you it will be your fate.
Nor need you once be ashamed of it, madam.
He's as handsome a man as e'er was Adam.

270 LIFE AND TIMES OP
The fortunes of Cecily, Countess of Rutland,
the stepmother of the Marchioness, of the Count
ess of Exeter, and of the Countess of Buck-
ingham, were then told. In the verses addressed
to the last mentioned, the beauty and attractions
of the lady were thus aUuded to : —
Your pardon, lady, here you stand.
If some should judge you by your hand,
' The greatest felon in the land.
Detected.
I cannot tell you by what arts.
But you have stol'n so many hearts.
As they would make you at all parts
Suspected.
The Lady Purbeck was the next theme : —
Help me, woman, here's a book.
Where I would for ever look ;
Never yet did Gipsy trace
Such true lines in hands or face.
Venus here doth Saturn move.
That you should be Queen of Love,
Only Cupid's not content ;
For, though you do the theft disguise,
You have robb'd him of his eyes.
The fair, fraU being, whose loveliness was thus
panegyrized, fled from her husband's house three
years afterwards, never to retum. " She was,"
says the historian Wilson, " a lady of tran
scending beauty." Ben Jensen's Unes on her
face : —

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 271
Though your either cheek discloses
ISIingled baths of milk and roses ;
Though your lips be banks of blisses.
Where he plants and gathers kisses —
were not, therefore, greatly exaggerated.
Her mother — the mother who had bartered her
at the altar — was next flattered : —
Mistress of a fafrer table.
Hath no history or fable ;
Others' fortunes may be shewn,
You are builder of your own.
And whatever Heaven hath gi'n you,
You preserve the state still in you.
Here ended the fortune-teUing. And now, a
dance of clowns, " Cockrel, Clod, Town'head, and
Puffy," each personated by knights, delighted the
company vrith a colloquy in prose, and in their
hands the conduct ef the piece remained until the
Gipsies, metamorphosed, " appeared in rich habits,
to close the whole with a eulogy upen King
James." A song was introduced just before the conclu
sion : — Oh, that we understood
Our good !
There's happiness indeed in blood.
And store —
But how much more
When virtue's flood
Iti the same stream doth hit !
As that grows high with years, so happiness
With it !

272 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Thus ended this masque, which fumishes, In the
estimation of a great critic, " specimens of poetic
excellence, injurious flattery, and adroit satire."
James was delighted with his cheer at Burleigh.'"
Before departing for Belvoir, he noticed, vnth
much satisfaction, that there was a prospect of
there soon being an heir to the house of VilUers ;
and, after uttering a fervent wish that all might
prosper, he caUed upon the Bishop of London, hy
way of amen, te give the young couple a blessing
in his presence on the interesting expectation.'^
This gay scene was followed by some mis
chances. James, riding out after dinner, from
Theobalds, early In the next year,'' was thrown
into the New River ; " the ice broke, and he feU in,
nothing appearing above the water except his
boots. Buckingham, who was not vrith him, was
sent for from Hertfordshire, and posted away to
attend his royal master. The King recovered
from this accident, but his infirmities increased
daUy; he was confined for some time at Theo
balds, " by reason of a defluxion," which, setting
in his leg, assumed the form of gout ; and he
" Gifiord.
"= Nichols, vol. iv., p. 710.
" 1622.
" Or, as it was called, Middleton's Water, from the great
contriver of that inestimable improvement, the introduction
of water into the metropolis, Sfr Hugh Middleton.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 273
was obUged te be carried out in a Utter when he
went to see the deer.
Preparations were now made for that event te
which James had referred when he had called the
Bishop of London to bless the parents of the babe
yet unborn. Yet, contrary te His Majesty's ex
pectations, it did net prove to be a " fine boy."
Early in the year 1622, a daughter, afterwards
christened Mary, gladdened the hearts of the
young and happy parents. On the twenty-
seventh of March, the Marchioness was sufficiently
recovered te be churched in the King's chamber,
where she dined, notwithstanding that the King
was in bed. The Duchess of Lennox accom
panied her on this occasion. This lady, was
recently married, for the third time, to the
Duke of Lennox, her first husband having
been Henry Pumell, Esq. ; her second, Edward
Seymour, first Earl of Hertford. Ludowick,
Duke of Richmond and Lennox, her hus
band, was a cousin ef the King's," being grand
son to John D'Aubignie, who was brother to
Mathew, Earl of Lennox, grandfather of His
Majesty. The Duke ef Lennox deservedly en
joyed a great share of the King's confidence ; and
it was a proof ef the highest consideration fer the
" Granger's Biography, Reign of King James, vol. i.,
p. 237. VOL. I. T

274 LIFE AND TIMES OP GEOEGE VILLIEES.
youngMarchloness of Buckingham, that his duchess
should be her companion at the ceremony of
churching. The Duchess attended her also in
her sickness, and was rewarded for "her great
pains and care in making broths and caudles"
for the Invalid, by a present from the King of a
fair chain of diamonds, vrith his picture suspended
te it. Prince Charles and the Marquis of Bucking
ham being charged to convey it to the Duchess,
who, henceforth, came to be "in great request,
and to be much courted and respected by the
Prince." ^» ^0 Nichols' Progresses, vol. iv., p. 756.

CHAPTER VI.

REVIEW OF THE STATE OF POLITICAL AFFAIRS — DISSOLU
TION OF PARLIAMENT  PROTEST — JAMES TEARS IT OUT
OF THE .JOURNALS OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS  ACTS
OF OPPRESSION — CASE OF THE EARL OF OXFORD — OF
LORD SOUTHAMPTON — PERSECUTION OF SIR EDWARD
COKE — THE CONDUCT AND IMPEACHMENT OF LORD
BACON — THE PART TAKEN BY BUCKINGHAM IN THIS
AFFAIR — THE ABUSES OF MONOPOLIES — CASE OF SIR
GILES MOMPESSON  OF SIR FRANCIS MICHELL —
bacon's LETTERS TO PARLIAMENT ¦ — HIS ILLNESS —
THE GREAT SEAL TAKEN FBOM HIM  JAMBS'S RELUCT
ANCE TO ACT WITH VIGOUR — SHEDS TEARS UPON THI.
OCCASION — BACON STILL PROTECTED BY BUCKINGHAM
 WILLIAMS, BISHOP OF LINCOLN, IS MADE CHANCEL
LOR  HIS CHARACTER, BY BISHOP GOODMAN.

T2

277

CHAPTER VI.
It Is now necessary to make a short review of
the state of political affairs coeval with these
successive manifestations of a bUnd partiaUty
shown by James to Buckingham.
The autumn of 1621 had witnessed the disso
lution of the Parliament. This step, which was
imputed to the advice of Buckingham, was has
tened by a protest from the two houses of com
mons, declaring "that the liberties, franchises,
and jurisdictions of Parliament are the ancient
and undoubted birthright of the subjects ef
England ; " asserting the point that the arduous
affairs of state, the making of laws and redress
ef grievances, are the proper subjects ef debate
in Parliament; and maintaining the privUege of
each member to enjoy entire freedom of speech.

278 LIFE AND TIMES OP
This protest, which James and his son would
have done weU to have for ever remembered,
was drawn forth by the King's resentment at
the interference in the Spanish marriage.^'
"He considered it," he said, "presumptuous In
the Parliament humbly to beseech him to per
mit his son to marry a Protestant Princess;
and he intimated that if they had fixed upon any
person or place, he should have thought It high
treason." The proclamation which announced the disso
lution was ascribed to the pen of Archbishop
Laud, who now exercised an ascendancy over
Buckingham ; and the King, hastening to Lon
don, caUed a Privy CouncU, and, sending for
the journal of the House of Commons, de
clared the pretest void, and tore it from the
book with his own hands.^^
These rash and blamable measures were re
sented by the whole kingdom. They were fol
lowed by acts of oppression and injustice. The first
object of the King's wrath was Henry Vere, Earl
of Oxford. This young nobleman, who was endowed
with great ability, courage, and high reputation,
was one of those young and daring aspirants
whose honours were net only Inherited from a long
" Oldmixon.
¦^ Ibid.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 279
series of noble progenitors, but by merit made
their own.^^ He had already distinguished him
self in the cause that was dearest te the hearts
of the English — ^that of the Palatinate, and had
extorted from the King one regiment to employ
an the service of his son-in-law, Frederic. The
body of men whom he led to the unequal con
test, was, says a contemporary, "the gallantest
for the persons and outward presence ef men,"
that, "in many ages, ever appeared at home er
abroad." It consisted almost entirely of gentle
men, the flower of the commoners ef England,
who went to Improve themselves in the art ef
war, te which the English had for years been
strangers. Oxford, with his noble associates
and brave soldiers, did aU that was possible foi
man to do; and then, finding that there was
no support from England, returned, hopeless, but
not disgraced.
Here was one of those "gaUant spirits who
aimed at the pubUc liberty more than at their
own interest ;" and who yet, when the Govern
ment which they served, or the prerogative which
they held sacred, was attacked, were fierce
in defence of the King and his authority;
supporting," says Arthur Wilson, " the old Eng-
^' Brydges's Peers of James I.

280 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Ush honour, they would not let It faU to the
ground." ^''
In spite of this acknowledged loyalty, the
Earl of Oxford was accused by a man named
White, henceforth called Oxford- White, of hav
ing spoken against the King ; and was committed
to the Tower, where he was long imprisoned,
until, on account ef his known bravery, he was
made one of Buckingham's Vice-Admirals on
the English eoast. A. letter, addressed to Buck
ingham, whilst the Earl was under this disgrace,
appealing to the King, to the favourite's own
conscience, whether he had ever harboured any
treasonable thoughts, obtained for him, perhaps,
this tardy justice : — "If it shaU please the
King," wrote the gallant Vere, " to line me out
my path to death (the period we must aU travel
te) by imprisonment, I shall be far from repining
at the sentence, but vrith all humbleness wiU
undergo it, and employ my heartiest prayers for
the long continuance of his health and happi
ness." 25
The persecution of Vere reflects inflnite dis
honour upon Buckingham — but that bright star
was fast losing the purity of Its lustre. Buck
ingham was an altered man. Unbounded pros-
« Wilson, p. 162.
" Cabala.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 281
perity was changing the once generous foe into an
avenger. Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton,
was the next subject of the Marquis's wrath.
Upon this brave peer the King's favours had hither
to been showered down, and he had been endeared
to the people by his friendship for the unfortunate
Earl of Essex, on whese account he had suffered
confinement in the reign of Elizabeth. On the
accession of James, Lord Southampton was
brought from " the prison to the palace." ^^ His
lands had been forfeited to the crown : they were
immediately restored. On the meeting of the
first Parliament called by James, the Earl was
restored by a bill, read after the recognition ef the
King, to his titles.^^ The rest of this nobleman's life
was spent in promoting worthy objects, to some of
which even the lettered attached ridicule. For
instance, his patronage of colonization, his send
ing ships to America for the purpose ef discovery
and traffic, excited the ridicule of some ef the
caustic geniuses ef the day. Yet Lord South
ampton received many tributes from the learned ;
and such was his protection of letters, that he
was caUed "learning's best favourite." ^^ It was,
''1= Brydges's Peers of James I., p. 324.
^' Ibid, 326.
"^ By Richard Braithwayte in the dedication of his
Scholar's Medley. — See Brydges's Peers, p. 325.

282 LIFE AND TIMES OF
however, his highest praise that he was the
patron and friend of Shakspeare.
It was upon this popular nobleman that the
ire of Buckingham next fell. It must, however,
be acknowledged, that Lord Southampton's credit
at Court had beeri on the decline prerious to the
altercation which took place between him and
Buckingham in the House of Lords ; the
Earl having incurred the royal displeasure on
several occasions, especially in opposing Illegal
patents, a tender subject which had lately been
under the consideration of Parliament. Under
these circumstances, when he called the Favourite
te order In a debate of the House of Lords, he
only rekindled the embers of former animosities.
Prince Charles attempted, indeed, successfuUy, to
check the dispute ; nevertheless, Southampton
sustained an imprisonment ef twelve days upon
the adjournment ef Parliament. He was aUowed,
en the eighteenth of July, to go to his own house
at Titchfield, where he was, however, a prisoner.^'
The famous Selden, Pym, and Sir Robert
Philips, were imprisoned in the Tower of
London for freedom ef speech;'" In short, during
=» Oldmixon, p. 56.
^° Lord Southampton died in a foreign service, that of the
States-general, in the defensive alliance at Bergen-op-Zoom
in 1624. His family fell into the deepest pecuniary distress,
and afterwards solicited the aid of Buckingham. — See " Ca
bala," p. 299.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 283
this Parliament, were the seeds ef that arbitrary
disposition, which afterwards manifested itself so
calamitously, first ripened. It was not among the
least sources of pubUc regret, that the heir-ap
parent should have witnessed, and In some mea
sure participated in, these flagrant oppressions.
Buckingham either perceived that these Infringe
ments upon the liberty of the subject had been per
mitted te go far enough, or his native good nature
prevailed over the virulence of party and the love
of power ; for on the nineteenth of July he came
to London, visited the Earl of Northumberland
in tlie Tower, passed two hours with the Earl
of Southampton at Westminster, and with the
Earl of Oxford at Sir Thomas Cockaine's. "This
was taken," writes Mr. Chamberlain, " for a good
presage, like the coming of St. Elmo after a tem
pest." '' Two days afterwards, the Lord Keeper
WiUiams took the Earl of Southampton to Theo
bald's where the king was. A long conference en
sued; the Lord Keeper, the Marquis ef Buck
ingham, and Southampton being the only persons
admitted to the royal presence. On the follow
ing day, Southampton, was set at liberty.'^
Sir Edward Coke was likewise among those who
2' Nichols, iv., 670.
'^ Oldmixon says not until the 1st of September (see p.
5,6) ; but Mr. Chamberlain's information is more precise and
impartial.

284 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Lacurred the displeasure of James for freedom of
speech. Imprisonment in the Tower foUowed
his offence. The locks and doors ef his chambers
in the Temple were sealed up, and several securi
ties for money taken away. Immured in prison,
his famUy not being suffered to approach him, he
had yet another trial to encounter. James, whose
meanness equaUed his improvidence, took this base
occasion to sue Coke for an old pretended debt due
from Sir Christopher Hatton to Queen EUzabeth.
The reply ef the SoUcitor-general, Sir John
Walter, when the brief ef this iniquitous case was
sent to him, is worthy of a nobler character of
mind than that usuaUy imputed to the English
lawyer ef that period. "Let my tongue," he
answered, "cleave te the roof of my mouth
whenever I ope it against Sir Edward Coke ;" yet
the suit was rigorously prosecuted. " That spirit
of fiery exhalation " '' was not daunted even by
this petty and malignant persecution. It was
observed of him that he lest his advancement In
the same way that he got It '''—by his tongue. Te
the last, he steadUy resisted the oppressions of the
crown, and his character, odious as it was to his
contemporaries, odious when we reflect upon him
as the vituperative judge of Ralegh, and toe
^' Wilson.
^ Life of Sir Edward Coke, published by the Society for
the Diffusion of Knowledge, p. 22.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 285
justly censured by Bacon "for insulting misery,"^'
has received the respect and gratitude of pos
terity for its general political independence.
The fate of Bacon himself excited a stUl more
moumful Interest in good minds, than the injuries
inflicted upon Coke.
It becomes necessary for the biographer of Vil
liers, to examine into the circumstances of an affair
with which, as with every pubUc event of the day,
he was intimately connected. Bacon, in after
wards addressing James, alludes to Buckingham
when he imputes his degradation to the personal
views of some secret foe. " I wish that, as I am
the first, so I may be the last of sacrifices in your
times ; and when, from private appetite. It is re
solved that a creature shaU be sacrificed, it is
easy to pick up sticks enough from any thicket,
whither he has strayed, te make a fire te offer it
with." '8
In the early period of his career, Buckingham
had owed much to the countenance, and more to
the advice, of Bacon. The author of the Novum
2= " Perhaps," says Mr. Amos, " Sfr Edward Coke never
descended.lower in point of wit and insult of misery, than
when he told Cuffe, when under trial for high treason, ' that
he would give him a cuff that should let him down by-and-
by.' " — Grand Oyer of Poisoning, p. 460.
^^ Life of Bacon, by BasU Montague. Preface, j). 9.

286 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Organum seems to have been among the first to
discern that remarkable association of per
sonal and mental quaUties in ViUiers, which
premised to secure him an ascendancy over James.
Bacon lent the lustre of his name to shine upon the
young courtier, and expected In return that aid
which Buckingham, he seon perceived, would
have it In his power te bestow. A mutual depen
dence was established; Buckingham existed on
the capital of Bacon's inteUect ; Bacon throve on
the inferiority of the youth, conscious of his de
fects, and vrise enough to remedy his own weak
ness by the strength of another.
No greater proof of confidence in a friend can
be given than to seek his advice, and ViUiers paid
Bacon that tribute. He requested him "to in
struct him how to fulfil his high station, how to
serve the King, how te conciliate the people."
In consequence of this, Bacon had addressed to
the Favourite a letter of advice,'' "such," observes
"The essay or letter treated of the foUowing subjects : — 1.
Matters that concern religion, andthe Church, and Church
men. 2. Mattersconcerningjustice, and the laws, and the pro
fessions thereof. 3. CounciUors, and the councU-table, and
the gTeat offices and officers of the kingdom. 4. Foreign
negotiations and embassies. 6. Peace and war, both
foreign and civil, and in that the navy and forts, and what
belongs to them. 6. Trade at home and abroad. 7. Col
onies, or foreign plantations. 8. The court and curialty.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 281
the biographer ef Bacon, "as is not usuaUy
given in courts, but of a strain equaUy free and
friendly, calculated to make the person to whom
It was addressed good and great, and equally
honourable to the giver and the receiver ; advice
which contributed not a little to his prosperity
in after life." "
This manual of a courtier's duty, it must be
owned, was sadly at variance vrith the practice
that foUowed these nobly conceived instructions
en the part of him who gave them.
"You are," — Bacon thus addressed VUliers —
" as a new risen star, and the eyes of aU are upon
you ; let not your own negligence make you faU
like a meteor." "Next to religion," he adds
elsewhere, "let your care be to promote justice.
By justice and mercy is the King's throne es
tablished." "And as far as it may rest in you,
let no arbitrary power be intended. The people
of this kingdom love the laws thereof, and
nothing vriU oblige them mere than a confidence
of the free enjoying of them." " Your greatest
care must be," he adds, towards the conclusion,
" that the great men of the court — for you must
give me leave to be plain with you, for so is your
injunction laid upon me — ^yourself in the first
place, who are first in the eye of all men, give no
•« Life of Lord Bacon, by BasU Montague, p. 181.

288 LIFE AND TIMES OP
just cause of scandal either by Ught, vain, or by
oppressive carriage." '^
Notvrithstandlng these admirable precepts, the
years during which Lord Bacon held the Great
Seal, and during which VUliers ruled pre
dominant, were, as it has been justly observed,
" the darkest and most shameful in EngUsh
history."^" The domestic govemment ef James
and his favourite, in weakness and want of high
principle, corresponded but too mournfully with
their foreign policy ; with their indifference to the
great struggle for the interests of hberty and
of Protestantism in Germany ; with their vacU-
lating and cowardly counsels. WhUst the
continental nations were venting their surprise
and indignation in saUies of ridicule directed
against England, the King, who had nothing to
bestow In the aid of a loyal cause in which the
welfare of his own child was bound up, resorted
at home to the most disgraceful expedients in
order to exalt his favourite. During this period,
Buckingham held an absolute empire over the
actions of Bacon. A system ef persecution
against Coke had followed the disgraceful affair
of Sir John VUliers' marriage. In an unlucky
hour, Bacon interfered between Lady Hatton and
her injured husband ; he even descended te lend
"' Lord Bacon's Works, i., p. 518-19.
*" Macaulay's Essay on Bacon in the Edinburgh Review,

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 289
himself te the lew affairs of these vulgar great,
and to take part against his enemy. Coke, and with
his arrogant wife. This was during the King's
absence in Scotland : as matters then stood, this
proceeding on the part of the Lord Keeper mUi-
tated against the marriage which Buckingham had
at heart. Bacon was soon taught, therefore, te see
his error. The Favourite resented his interference,
and refused to be pacified. In vain did the Lord
Keeper stay certain proceedings against Coke
which had been instituted in the Star Chamber ;
in vain did he hasten to testify his submission te
Buckingham. Two successive days he went to
the stately apartments of the Favourite ; waited
meekly in an ante-chamber, seated on an old box,
vrith the Great Seal of England at his side. At
length, when he was admitted, he threw himself
at the feet of Buckingham, and swore never to
rise thence till he had received the pardon of the
lofty personage whom he had ence instructed in
the art of conducting himself with dignity.*'
This was not such conduct as would entitle a
man to respect even frem him on whom he cringed.
Yet Bacon, in one of his letters addressed te
Buckingham, declares him to have been the
''truest and perfectest mirror of friendship that ever
" Sir Anthony Weldon's Court and Character of King
James. VOL. I. U

290 LIFE AND TIMES OP
was in a court; " and pretests that "he should count
every day lost in which he should not study his
well-doing in theught, or do his name honour In
speech, or perform service for him indeed."''^
Ner is the statement given by Weldon, of the
manner in which the seals were offered te Bacon
by Buckingham, credible. Accordmg to that
writer, the Favourite, when he sent to proffer
them to Bacon, accompanied them with an insult
ing message, saying, that whilst he knew him to
be a man of excellent parts, he was also aware
" that he was an errant knave, apt, in his pros
perity, to ruin any that had raised him In his
adversity ; " yet from regard to his master's
service, he had obtained the seals for him; but
with this assurance, that if he ever should act to
him as he had done te others, he would be cast
down as much below as he was now above any
honour that he had expected,"" aUuding to the
flagrant Ingratitude and perfidy of Bacon to
Essex. But this story, supported by no evidence,
is at variance with probability ; and since it rests
upon the authority of one who Is always In
veterate against Buckingham, it may be discarded
as wholly unworthy of belief.
That Buckingham knew well the character of
" Biog. Brit. Art. Bacon, note.
"Bacon's Works, ii., p. 201.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 291
the Lord Keeper before he promoted him to the
Chancellorship — that he calculated on his sub
servience to himself, expressed in his letters, so that
posterity may judge of Bacon's professions — that
he had discovered that the doctrine of expediency
Influenced the practice of Bacon, is almost
certain ; for he did not hesitate to sway him to the
most disgraceful countenance of abuses fer which
the whole country was crying eut for redress.
Amongst the grievances most disliked were
those of monopolies; and amongst the most detested
of detestable patents was that for the exclusive
manufacture of gold and silver lace. It had
been conjointly granted to Sir GUes Mompesson,
who is supposed to have been the original of
Sir GUes Overreach, and te Sir Frances Michell,
who is said te have suggested the character of
Justice Greedy. Sir Giles was a WUtshire
knight, patronised by Buckingham; or, as if
was the fashion of the day to speak, "a crea
ture of the Favourite's;" and was concerned,
not only in the patent of gold and silver lace,
but in forming the monopolies styled the patents
of "Inns and Osterles." In this affair MIcheU
assisted him.**
Te render Bacon justice, he had formerly,
when applied to with regard to these patents
¦''' Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii., p. 297.
U 2

292 LIFE AND TIMES OP
,on behalf ef Sir Christopher Villiers, advised
Buckingham not to have anything to do vrith
them.*^ He declared them to be ene of the griev
ances which Parliament ought to. put down;
but avowed his readiness, should It not be done
away with, "to mould it in the best manner,
and help it forward."*^
The latter course was preferred by Bucking-
bam, and was therefore adopted. The result was
not enly that the manufacture of gold and silver
thread was adulterated, for that would have
been a matter of comparatively little consequence,
but that an inquisitorial jurisdiction was ex
ercised by the patentees of the Inns and Os
terles, who were armed with as great powers
as had ever been granted to the farmers of the
revenue. The abuses which resulted cried for re
dress; and, duringjthg^sesslon of 1620)_ Parliament
took the matter up. It became the province of
the Lord Keeper to interpose, and he decided
that it should be settled with aU convenient
speed. " The meaning of this was," writes Lord
Macaulay, " that certain of the house of VUliers
were to go . halves with certain of the house of
Overreach and Greedy in the plunder of the
public." " Biographia Britannica, Art. Bacon, note.
*" Bacon's Works, ii, p. 20.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 293
Petitions were sent up to Parliament by per
sons who had suffered under these exactions, and
the whole affair was thoroughly " ripped up." *^
The odium of these abuses feU upon Buck
ingham ; the blame upon the Lord Keeper, who
had not restrained these patents. Sir Edward
Villiers, who was thought to be as " deep in the
mire" as Mompesson and MicheU, was sent on an
embassy fer safety. Mompesson was, on the
third of March, 1621, summoned to appear be
fore ParUament: he had fled, assisted, accord
ing to common report, by Buckingham, who
dreaded further exposure, for Mompesson's neck
was In danger. On the twenty-seventh of the
same month, the King went to Parliament, and
pronounced sentence on Sir GUes, the dignity
of his wife remaining untainted.*^ Michell, a
newly-made knight, was brought to his trial en
the third ef May, and suffered the singular sen
tence of degradation, with aU "the ceremonies of
abasement," " but that," observes Arthur WUson,
"being mest proper to his nature, he was but
eased of a burthen, his mind suffered not." *^ He
was made Incapable of holding office, fined 1,000Z.,
and ordered to be imprisoned in Finsbury Prison
?' Oldmixon, p. 52.
« Nichols, iv., 660.
" Ibid, note.

294 LIFE AND TIMES OP
during the King's pleasure. The ceremonial
was rendered sufficiently effective, and Bucking
ham, with the highest persons of the realm, wit
nessed the process. The " old justice," as MicheU
was called, was brought by the Sheriffs of Lon
don to Westminster Hall, on the last day ef
Term, when the sentence of Parliament was read
before him by a pursuivant. In an audible voice.
His spurs were then broken in pieces by the
servants of the Earl Marshal, and thrown away ;
the sUver sword was taken from his side, broken
over his head, and thrown away. Last of aU, he
was pronounced no longer a knight, but a knave ;
Garter, Clarencieux, Norroy sitting at the feet
of the Commissioners.^"
Sir GUes Mompesson, meantime, having con
trived to elude the sergeants who had him in
charge, was safe abroad; but a proclamation
was out against him. The Prince and Lords
promised to do aU they could te ensure his
being apprehended : the ports were guarded.
Buckingham, meantime, declared in tbe House
that he had no hand in the matter, but that
the blame rested with the referees who had
tested the lawfulness of these patents.^' Sir GUes
was heavUy fined; an annuity ef 200Z. on the
™ Nichols, vol. iv., p. 660.
" State Papers, vol, cxx.. No. 13.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 295
new waterworks being all that was reserved for
Lady Mompesson and her chUd.
Two years afterwards he was, however, aUowed
to return to England for three months, though
under some risk; for the people did not forget
that the two words, "ne Empsons," formed his
anagram, and he was enly permitted to land in
England en the petition of his wife.^^
With what sensations Buckingham, who had
certainly regarded the peculation permitted by
these patents as a famUy perquisite, must have
witnessed these proceedings, it is not easy to
say. His once generous character was gaining
in hardness, and losing the traces of its delicacy
and scrupulousness every day.
But evils of a more stupendous character were
soon te be detected and avenged by a people
who. Bacon truly said, "loved the law of their
land." The Lord Keeper had reckoned fer a long
time that the protecting hand of the Fa
vourite could cover his venial proceedings. On
the twenty-seventh of January, 1620, he was
created Viscount St. Albans, with plenary inves
titure. The Lord Carew carried his robe before
him ; the Marquis of Buckingham held It up. The
prosperous Lord Keeper gave the King most hearty
thanks for each successive step of his preferment.
^^ State Papers, cxxii, No. 8.

296 LIFE AND TIMES OP
1st, for making him his solicitor; 2nd, his attorney;
3rd, a privy councillor ; 4th, Keeper of the Great
Seal ; 5th, chancellor ; 6th, Baron Verulam ; 7th,
Viscount St. Albans ; — ^honours and emoluments
which had been procured for him entirely through
the infiuence ef Buckingham. The enrious world
wondered, according to Sir Symonds D'Ewes, at
the gratification of Bacon's pride and ambition. His
estates In land were thought, at that time, not to
be more in value than four or five hundred
pounds" yearly ; his debts were supposed to
amount te 30,000^. He was then known to
receive bribes in all cases of moment that came
before hlm.^' The hour of reckoning, however,
eventuaUy arrived.
The disgraceful transactions which brought
this tardy justice on the man so pre-eminent in
letters, so debased in honourable principle, had
been a frequent source of complaint in parUament.
Thus, as a modern writer observes, " was signally
brought to the test the value ef those objects for
which Bacon had suUied his integrity, had
resigned his Independence, had violated the most
sacred objects of friendship and gratitude, had
flattered the worthless, had persecuted the Inno
cent, had tampered with judges, had tortured
prisoners, had plundered suitors, had wasted on
M Harl. MSS. 646— See Nichols, vol. iv., p. 649, note.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 297
paltry intrigues the power of the most exquisitely
constructed inteUect that had ever been bestowed
on any of the chUdren of men." ** It is ef no avail
te say that the custom of the day authorized the
receiving ef bribes and presents ; or to justify the
mean subservience ef the Lord Chancellor by
blaming the interference of Buckingham. That
Interference may be justly censured; but it forms
no ground ef acquittal to Bacon.
In the letter of advice addressed by this most
inconsistent man te Buckingham, when Sir George
ViUiers, he counsels him by no means ever to
be persuaded to interpose himself, " either by
word or letter, in any cause depending, or likely
to be depending, in any court of justice, ner
suffer any other great man to do it where he
could hinder it, and by all means to dissuade the
King from it." "If it prevail," he adds, "it
prevents justice ; but if the judge be so just, and
of such courage, as he ought to be, as not to be
inclined thereby, yet it always leaves a taint of
suspicion behind it. Judges must be chaste as
Cffisar's wife — neither to be, nor to be suspected
to be, unjust ; and, sir, the honour of the judges
in their judicature is the King's honour, whose
person they represent." ¦'''
" Macaulay.
" Advice to Sfr George ViUiers.

298 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Shortly after Bacon had become Lord Keeper,
a series of letters was, nevertheless, commenced
en the part of Buckingham in faveur of persons
who were likely to come into chancery .^^ And
it is related in Hacket's Life of the Lord Keeper
WUliams, the successor ef Bacon, that there was
not a cause ef moment, but that, as soon as It
came to publication, one of the parties con
cerned in It brought letters from this mighty
peer and the Lord Keeper's patron.'^ A com
mittee was appointed by the House of Com
mons to inquire Into the proceedings of the
courts of justice. Two charges of corruption
were brought against the Lord Chancellor ; the
ene in the case of a man named Aubrey, who had
been advised to quicken a suit in chancery by
the bribe of a hundred pounds. The money
was presented, through the medium of Sir
George Hastings, directly to the Lord Chancellor
at his lodgings in Gray's Inn, and when Sir
George came eut from the chambers, he told
Aubrey that his " Lordship was thankful, and
assured him of good success in his business,
which, however, he had not." ^ The other case

»» Mr. Montagu's Life of Bacon, note.
" Bishop Hacket's Life of WiUiams.
' 8 Biog. Brit. Art. Bacon.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 299
was that of Mr. Egerton, who mortgaged his
estate for four hundred pounds ; a sum which
Bacon at first refused, saying it was toe much,
but accepted at last. These charges were eventu
aUy preferred before the House of Lords, and when
the complaint was made in that assembly, it
devolved on Buckingham, In the absence of the
Chancellor, who was sick, to present a letter pray
ing for time for the privUege of cross-examining
witnesses ; and requesting that if there came up any
more petitions of the same nature, their Lord
ships would not take any prejudice at their
numbers, considering that they were against a
judge that made two hundred and forty decrees
in a year.^^ During this interval. Bacon was
assured ef the sympathy of James and the inter
cession of Buckingham. The King shed tears on
hearing of his dilemma, and procured a recess ef
parliament. In order to give him time for defence.
It was, however, judged best by the ChanceUor,
notwithstanding all this powerful patronage, not
to attempt a defence, but te threw himself upon
the mercy of the House. That, in spite of this
confession. Bacon still continued te enjoy the
protection ef Buckingham, is evident, for the
heir to the crown presented Bacon's memorable
letter, full ef eloquence, and expressed with the
5» Biog. Brit, Art. Bacon.

300 LIFE AND TIMES OF
inimitable address which he knew so weU how
to employ. This submission was not deemed
enough ; a fuU confession was required. It was
given by one sunk in character and broken In
spirit, and was received by the House. Prince
Charles was then requested to intercede with
His Majesty that he would sequester the Great
Seal, to which James assented, declaring it was
his resolution to fiU up the place of Chan
cellor forthwith. Bacon was summoned before the
House ; he excused himself on the plea of sickness,
and sentence was passed upon him in his absence.
He was decreed to pay a fine of 40,000Z., to be
imprisoned in the Tower during the King's
pleasure, and declared incapable of ever either
sitting in Parliament again, er of holding any
office or employment ; he was even forbidden to
come vrithin " the verge " — that is, within twelve
miles of the Court.^" V V ,V
The conditien of Bacon's mind and body under
this severe disgrace seems to have been truly
melancholy. One moment he was merry, and
declared that he beUeved he should be able to ride
safely through the tempest. When passing through
the haU of his stately abode at York House, en his
servants rising at his presence, he said, "Sit down,
""Biog. Brit. Art Bacon.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 301
my friends ; your rise has been my fall." Upon
one of his friends observing, "You must look
around you," he answered, "I look above me."
At other times his despair broke out in words
that, although somewhat abject, were touching in
the extreme. As he lay in his bed, his frame
swoln with disease, he bade none of his gentlemen
come near him, nor take any notice ef him, but
altogether to forget him, not hereafter to speak of
him, nor remember that there was such a being in
the world.
In this extremity ef sorrow, Buckingham
visited the faUen one. Already had Bacon
written to him in the following terms : — " Your
Lordship spoke of purgatory ; I am now in it ;
but my mind is in a calm, for my fortune is not
my felicity. I know I have clean hands, and a
clean heart, and I hope a clean house for friends
or servants. But Job himself, or whoever was the
justest judge, by such hunting for matters against
him as hath been used against me, may, for a
time, seem foul, especially in a time when great
ness is the mark, and accusation is the game.
And if this be te be a ChanceUor, I think, if the
Great Seal lay upon Hounslow Heath, nobody
would stoop to take It up." What marvellous
self-deception, or consummate dupUcity ! Owing to
Buckingham's mediation, a letter was given to the

302 LIFE AND TIMES OF
King, from Bacon ; in this he again asserted that
innocence to which he had solemnly renounced
aU claim before, in his submission to Parlia
ment. " And now for the briberies and gifts wherevrith
I am charged ; when the book ef hearts shall be
opened, I hope I shall not be found to have the
troubled fountain of a corrupt heart, in a de
praved habit ef taking rewards te pervert justice,
however I may be frail, and partake of the abuses
of the times." "
On the nineteenth ef March, Bacon addressed a
letter te the House of Lords, contending, he said,
that charges of bribery were brought against him ;
he prayed that they would not prejudge him for
absence, having been Ul, and preparing for a
higher tribunal ; that they would give him leisure
to make his defence, which would be plain and
ingenuous ; also, that they would not be prejudiced
against him by the number of petitions brought
against a man who gives two hundred decrees and
orders a year, exclusive of causes. He did not, he
said, desire to make greatness a subterfuge for
guiltiness.*^ Notvrithstandlng a message from James to
«> Montagu's Life, p. 332.-
"2 State Papers, vol cxx., No. 28.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 303
Parliament, saying that he had refused the' tender
of the Great Seal frem the Lord Chancellor, and
hoped that they would give him a patient hearing,
" but te judge him as they thought fit. If matters
prove foul," ^' Bacon was suspended. He wrote
a pitiful, specious letter to the House ef Lords,
in which he "rejoiced that in the midst of his pro
found afflictions the greatness of a magistrate was
no shelter for crime." His only justification, he
said, was his non-concealment ef his offences. He
did not mean te reply to particular questions, nor
cavU at vritnesses, nor urge extenuations. He
submitted to their judgment and mercy, but hoped
that the loss of his soul might be sufficient expia
tion for his faults. He pleaded for compassion,
by the example ef the King's clemency, and their
own fellow feeling for hlm.^*
UntU the first of May, 1621, Bacon remained
Lord Chancellor ef England. On the afternoon
of that day, the Lord Treasurer, Viscount Mande
vIUe, the Duke of Lennox, Lord Steward of
the King's Household, the Earl of Arundel,
Earl Marshal ef England, the Earl ef Pembroke,
and the Lord Chamberlain of the Household, re
paired to York House. They were introduced Into
the presence of Bacon, and then told him "that
'^' State Papers, vol cxx. No. 97.
» Ibid, No. 104.

304 LIFE AND TIMES OP
they were sorry to visit him on such an occasion,
and wished it had been better." " Ne, my lords,"
he replied, "the occasion is good." He then
deUvered te them the Great Seal, saying, as he
gave it up, " It was the King's favour that gave
me this, and it Is my fault that he hath taken It
away." The seal was conveyed to Whitehall, and
restored to the King, who exclaimed, on receiving
it, " Now, by my soul, I am pained at my heart
where te bestow this ; for, as for my lawyers, they
are all knaves."*' But Buckingham had provided
against this difficulty, and the high office which
Bacon had so greatly abused was bestowed upon
WiUiams, Bishop of Lincoln, who was now the chief
adviser ofthe Marquis, and to whose counsels much
that had been dene was attributed.
The choice of WiUiams, for this high office,
reflected no discredit upon Buckingham. Bishop
Goodman terms this prelate " a man ef as great
wit and understanding as ever I knew any man."
"And truly," he adds, endeavouring to rebut
Weldon's charge of a mean birth, "he was as
weU-descended and had as good kindred as any
man in North Wales, none beyond him. He
had a very quick apprehension, and for the dis
charge of the Lord Keeper's Office, he was
never taxed with any insufficiency. I have heard
«' Nichols, from Sfr Symonds D'Ewes's Diary.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 305
him make his reports in the Lord's House of
ParUament, and answer such petitions, that in
truth we did wonderfuUy commend him." ** To
these essentials WiUiams added the popular
qualities of hospitality and liberaUty ; in this re
spect he resembled Laud. " There was net a man
in England," says Bishop Goodman, " that kept a
more orderly house than Laud did, or bred up his
servants better. But I will join these two cele
brities together for the great hospitaUty which
they kept, Inviting and entertaining strangers."
With regard to liberality, the erection of St.
John's CoUege, Cambridge, the foundation there
of several scholarships and feUowshlps, the library
at Westminster, the Ubrary at Lincoln, the re
pairs of Westminster Abbey, and the care which
WiUiams took, even when he was Lord Keeper,
of the young scholars at Westminster, sufficiently
attest his great and salutary views.
Whilst he was Procter at Cambridge, he con
ducted a magnificent entertainment, given to the
Lord Chancellor Egerton, and to the Spanish
ambassadors, on which occasion Egerton told
him that he " was fit to serve a king," and after
wards introduced him at court.*^
The chief circumstance that brought WUliams
«° Goodman's Life, l, p. 285.
" Grainger, chap, iv., t. 1.
VOL. I. X

306 LIFE AND TIMES OP
into notice was his figuring at Cambridge in
a disputation, before Prince Charles, in 1612-13,*'
when he was made a Bachelor ef Divinity by
special grace, in erder that he might become a
disputant in the Theological Controversy.*^
StUl, great subserviency was expected even
frem the Lord Keeper in these days of despotic
rule. The industrious letter writer, John Cham
berlain, who supplies us with all the gossip and
news which, in those days, had no outlet in the
public press, writes of this new appointment In
these terms : —
" The King has made the Dean of Westmin
ster Lord Keeper for a year and a half; if he
behave well, he is to retain office for a year and
a half longer, and then te surrender it : he is
to consult one of the Chief Justices in aU cases
of importance." '"
He quietly adds, immediately afterwards, that
the Bishop of Bangor had been sent to the
Fleet for disputing " malapertly " with the King
on the Sabbath ; and that Dr. Price had shared the
same punishment for his sermon at Oatlands.
The " Prevaricator " of Cambridge was expeUed
0' Nichols, vol. in., p. 589.
°= Ibid, vol ii.. Appendix
'"Chamberlain to Carleton. — State Papers, vol. cxxiii,
No. 23.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 307
the University for saying, at a banquet that he
gave, that he would have all sorts of instru
ments except Gendomar's pipe." The Lord
Keeper's " good behaviour," therefore, meant an
absolute subjection of reason and understanding ;
and, more especially, an entire adherence to that
line of politics which might happen to be agree
able at the time to the King.
The Great Seal, when it had been fetched
from the miserable Bacon, was delivered by the
King, in presence of the Prince and the Privy
Council, to WiUiams, and was received with a
short speech, "marvelling at His Majesty's be
nignity," and premising to be paster of the
sheep. In his first speech in the Court of Chan
cery, the Lord Keeper vindicated the principle
on which the King had determined to fiU up
the post vrith one who was not a lawyer.'^
A few months before Buckingham, who, as
" Steward ef the City and CoUege of Westmin
ster," was patron of the Deanery, had made the
young disputant Dean of Westminster. Williams,
nevertheless, abstained from paying any court to
the Favourite ; his pride and honesty kept him
aloof. " For he had observed," says Bishop
Hacket, " that the Marquis was very apt suddenly
" Chamberlain to Carleton, State Papers, vol. cxxii.. No. 23.
"State Papers, voL cxiii., No. 18. X 2

308 LIFE AND TIMES OF
to look cloudy upon his creatures, as if he had
raised them up on purpose to cast them down."
One day, however, whilst the Dean was attending
upon King James, in the absence ef the Marquis,
the Monarch suddenly inquired, without any rela
tion te the previous discourse, " when he was at
Buckingham ? " " Sir," repUed WiUiams, " I
have had no business to go to his lordship."
" But," rejoined the King, " you must ge to him
about my business," and WUliams accordingly
sought an interview vrith the Marquis. The
Favourite and the Dean were thus brought into
contact, and the result was favourable to both.
To Buckingham it procured an able and, for the
time, a zealous friend, to whom he owed the great
service which Williams afterwards performed in
converting Lady Katherlne Manners from Popery;
and WiUiams obtained, for his part, a munificent
and deserving patron. A different version ef the
causes of WUlIams's elevation was given by a
scandalous historian. According to Sir Anthony
Weldon, it was owing to the • hopes which the
Countess of Buckingham entertained of becoming,
in her third nuptials, the wife of WiUiams, who Is
said to have " thought otherwise of that marriage
when he was Lord Keeper WUUams, than he had
done as Dean of Westminster," " which," he adds,
" Oldmixon, 53.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 309
" was the cause of his downfall." But this report
was whoUy without foundation. " WiUiams was
generaUy beloved by his neighbours," says Bishop
Goodman, " and for that report, that he should be
great with Buckingham's mother, it Is an idle,
fooUsh report, without any colour of truth."'* His
appointment as Lord Keeper gave, however, great
offence to the members of the bar. It was loudly
resented that the highest post in the law should be
bestowed upon a doctor of divinity ; and this step
was, it was supposed, preparatory te fiUing all the
courts of judicature with churchmen. Williams,
nevertheless, proved himself to be admirably
adapted fer the office. He had already gained gene
ral confidence by persuading the King to suffer
Parliament to sit, and to go on, in opposition te
those who, being afraid of exposure, had endea
voured to prejudice Buckingham and his royal
master against that assembly.''' As a chanceUer,
he was acknowledged, even by the most distrustful,
to be a faithful counseller ; and by the friendship
and instruction ef the Lord ChanceUor, Egerton, to
whom he had been domestic chaplain, he had been
prepared for the great duties of his legal office.
Egerton, en his death, had addressed to Williams
these words : — " If you want money, I wUl leave
" Gtoodman, vol. i., p. 286. ^ .^
" Note to Biog. Brit. Art. Bacon.

310 LIFE AND TIMES OP
you such a legacy as shall furnish you to begin the
world like a gentleman. I know," he added, " you
are an expert workmen. Take these tools to
broach with : they are the best I have." He then
gave him some books and papers, which he had
written with his own hand, being directions con
cerning the regulation of the High Court of Parlia
ment, the Court of Chancery, and the Star Cham
ber, fer the dying Chancellor foresaw that- his
chaplain might, in the course ef his career, require
such materials.'*
The promotion of WiUiams involved very im
portant consequences to the EngUsh Church. It
was by his instrumentality that Bishop Laud was
first brought forward at the Court of James.
WiUiams foresaw the rise of that eminent and
unfortunate man, but few persons ceuld have pre
dicted his faU.
An accidental circumstance drew upon Laud the
attention which his learning, his zeal, and his
ardent piety, tainted as it was by bigotry, might
not have procured him. Bishops, and even arch
bishops, in those days, were, as we have seen, by
no means restricted frem the diversions of the
hunting-field, nor even, if occasion occurred, from
martial exploits. Archbishop Abbot, among the
'"Oldmixon, p. 63.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 3U
rest, had been a jerial huntsman. The practice
was, it is trae, forbidden by the canons ef the
church, but those had not been admitted by the
law of the land. There was a high and violent
party in the church, who were eager that Abbot
should be deprived of his ecclesiastical dignities,
on account of the accident In which he shot a
keeper, a mishap which the worst construction
could only render into justifiable homicide. Laud
was amongst the most vehement ef these, and his
riews of the case were se rigid, that he did not con
sider the orders which Archbishop Abbot conferred
afterwards te be valid. There were others who
judged differently, and amongst the rest, the justly
celebrated Lancelot Andrews, who maintained
that since Bishop Juxon was famous for breeding
the best dogs in England, and was yet worthy to
be promoted to a see. Abbot was excusable.
But the resistance of Laud was agreeable te
Buckingham, who already had constituted him
self his patron. By his influence, WiUiams was
induced te get Laud made Bishop of St. David's,
and Laud afterwards acknowledged that and other
obligations by exclaiming, " My Ufe wiU be too
short to repay his Lordship's goodness." Yet he
Uved to change his opinion.
The rise of Laud at Court may be traced by
distinct steps. In 1621-2, we find him preaching

312 LIFE AND TIMES OP
at Court, on the day of the King's accession,"
and " commanded to print."'* Shortly afterwards
the King sent to Laud, to converse with him
about the Countess of Buckingham, who was
wavering on the subject of her faith. Several
interviews succeeded, and In consequence, it may
be presumed, of Laud's exertions in that cause,
he became chaplain to the Marquis ef Buck
ingham. For a time, his efforts at conversion
appear to have been crowned with success.
The Countess consented te receive the sacra
ment in the King's chapel, and received a pre
sent, according to common report, of 2,000/. for
her conformity." Sometimes reUgious discus
sions took place before His Majesty, and on one
occasion, the answer of Laud to the nine articles,
delivered in a book from Fisher, the Jesuit, was
read and argued upen at Wiitdsor, in the presence
of James, his son, Buckingham, his mother, and
his lady. These endeavours proved futile ; the
Countess became eventuaUy confirmed In the
Church of Rome, and retreated to her house at
Goadby, to enjoy the exercise of her persuasion,
undisturbed by the observations of the world.
Hitherto, she had been one ef the most briUiant
" March 24th.
" Nichols, vol. iv., p. 754.
™ Ibid, p. 769.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 313
leaders of fashion ; her retirement from the Court
was therefore the theme of much remark. Her
compUance with the King's vrishes in receiving the
Holy Communion was said to have been prompted
by her dread of banishment frem that sphere in
which she had figured.*" It was during the fol-
levring year .that she relapsed te Popery, and
after she was, as Mr. Chamberlain declared, sent
from Court, either on that account, or perhaps
on account ef a quarrel with her daughter-in-
law." Whatsoever may have been the reason for the
retirement of this ambitious woman, one may
easily imagine with what mingled emotions of
chagrin and triumph she returned to the scene ef
her early married Ufe ; her sons, already great,
were ennobled, and infiuential ; her title and for
tune formed a striking contrast between the aU-
powerful mother ef a royal favourite, and the
lowly serving maid in the household of an obscure
Leicestershire country gentleman ; yet there were,
as it so appears, clouds overshadowing even the
brightness ef her destiny, and darkening, eventu
aUy, the close of her singularly prosperous career.
°° State Papers, vol. cxxxi.. No. 24.
" Ibid, vol cxxxiii., No. 24.

CHAPTER VIL

THE SPANISH TREATY — NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN THE DUKE
or LERMA AND LORD DIGBY  THE INEANTA DES
CRIBED BY LORD DIGBY — HER GREAT BEAUTY, PIETY,
AND SWEETNESS — THE DESCRIPTION OF HER BY TOBY
MATHEW — SHE IS DISPOSED TO RECEIVE CHARLBS'S
ADDRESSES  GONDOMAR  ATTENTIONS SHOWN TO
HIM IN ENGLAND  ELY HOUSE ALLOTTED FOR HIS
RECEPTION — .JEALOUSY OF THE PROTESTANTS AT THE
FAVOUR SHOWN HIM  FIRST NOTION OF OHAELES'S
JOUENEY TO SPAIN SUGGESTED BY BUCKINGHAM 
HIS ARGUMENTS IN FAVOUR OF IT  OBSTACLES TO
THE prince's marriage WITH THE INFANTA  BUCK
INGHAM'S DEBTS AND DIFFICULTIES — INTERVIEW BE
TWEEN GONDOMAR AND THE DUKE OF LENNOX —
JOURNEY OF CHARLES AND BUCKINGHAM INTO
SPAIN — THEY STOP IN PARIS — LOUIS XIH.  ANNE OF
AUSTRIA — HENRIETTA MARIA — THEY PROCEED TO
MADRID  RECEPTION THERE  ENTRANCE IN STATE
INTO THAT CITY — COUNTESS OF PHILIP IV. — FESTIVI
TIES IN HONOUR OF THE PRINCE — THE KING'S LETTEES
TO HIM.

317

CHAPTER vn.
1622.
In the midst of aU the difficulties and differences
of opinion which embarrassed the question of
assisting the Palatinate, or of leaving the darling
of her country, Elizabeth ef Bohemia, te her fate,
that cherished project, known at the time as the
Spanish treaty, was brought under consideration.
Little more than two years had elapsed after
the death of James's first-born. Prince Henry,*^
when the Duke ef Lerma, the minister ef PhUip the
Third of Spain, opened a negotiation with Digby,
then ambassador at Madrid, the object ef which
was to arrange a marriage between Prince Charles
and Donna Maria. This princess was the sister
of Philip the Fourth ef Spain, and her elder sister
being married, was styled the Infanta.
In June, 1622, Charles wrote to Lord Digby, de-
" Racket's Life of WUliams, p. 114.

318 LIFE AND TIMES OF
siring to hear speedily upon the subject which
the young prince had nearest his heart —
whether the King of Spain were reaUy affected
to the marriage or not, and intended to proceed in
it ; In which case, Digby's instructions were to
perfect all the capitulations, and to agree that the
journey ef the Infanta te England should take
place during the ensuing spring.*'
Lord Digby, as he now informed Charles, had
first availed himself of aU the secret means he
could devise, of discovering the wishes of his
Spanish Majesty; and on conversing with his min
isters afterwards, had received from them every
possible encouragement. In the long and inter
esting letter in which he replied to the young
Prince's inquiries, Digby described an interview
with the Infanta, to whom he begged to address
himself in the name of her young and royal suitor,
and to deUver to her a message. The King
gave him permission te see the Infanta, and with
his own Ups to enter on the subject; Digby
having represented to that Monarch, that Charles,
being now twenty-one years of age, was desirous
of bringing matters to a conclusion, and that His
Majesty, King James, having but one son, was
anxious "not to delay longer the bestowing of him."
" Letter from Lord Digby to Charles, dated Madrid,
30th June, 1622.— Inedited State Papers.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 319
The King of Spain, in return, assured his
British Majesty that there was ne less affection to
the match In him, than there had been in his
father. "I can frame," writes Digby to the
Prince,' "ne opinion but upon these exterior
things, and men that do negotiate with great
princes must rely upon the honour and truth of
their words and propositions, especially in a case
of this nature."** Much was expected frem the
retum of Count Gondomar from England to Spain;
his coming was, as Digby declared, te be ef great
use, " fer he holds," adds that nobleman, " great
credit here, and wiU be able to clear away aU diffi
culties, being extremely affectionate to the busi
ness." Gondomar, it appears, had then already
landed at Bayenne.
Digby next expatiated at length upon the per
fection of the Infanta. This princess appears to
have presented a rare instance ef great personal
attraction, combined vrith sweetness of disposi
tion, sensibUity, and piety. That she was not
eventuaUy united to Charles must, in spite of the
calculations of politicians, ever be a subject of regret.
Her good sense might have acted beneficiaUy upon
the well-intentioned but mistakenMonarch,whowas
fataUy swayed by the counsels of Henrietta Maria.
" Letter from Lord Digby to Charles, dated Madrid,
30th June, 1622.— Inedited State Papers.

320 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Lord Digby, experienced in courts, thus ex
pressed himself with regard to Donna Maria.
" For the person of the Infanta, this much : — ^I
wiU presume te say unto your highness, that I
have seen many ladies attending when I had my
audience with the Queen and Infanta, but she Is
by much the handsomest young lady I saw since
I came inte Spain ; and for her goodness and
sweetness of her disposition, she is by the whole
Court generaUy commended."
In subsequent letters, Lord Digby was stIU
more explicit, although he knew, he said, that ex
pectations generaUy exceed reality ; yet should the
Prince, on seeing the Infanta, not "judge her to
be a beautiful and dainty lady, he shaU be single
in his opinions and from aU who have ever seen
her.«=" These praises of Lord Digby's are borne out
by other testimonies; that, more especiaUy, of
Toby Mathew, who followed the Prince into
Spain, and who caUs the Infanta, then in her eigh
teenth year, as "fair In aU perfection;" her face
without one " ill feature," presenting that contour
which " shews her to be highly bom." The ex
pression of her countenance peculiarly sweet ;
and her figure, concealed as it was by the close
*' Dated Madrid, February 22, 1622-23.— Liedited State
Papers.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 321
ruffs and cuffs then worn by the Spanish ladies,
was declared to be perfect; her head was well
set upon her neck; and so," adds the minute
observer, " are her hands to her arms ; and they
say that before she is dressed, she is incompar
ably better than after." **
Lord Digby protested also te Charles that
his future bride, as she was then esteemed, had
" the fairest hand that he had ever seen, that she
was very straight and well-bodied, and a Ukely
lady te make the Prince happy."
This portraiture was calculated te increase
the ardour of the thoughtful and enthusiastic
Charles; whUst the character drawn of the In
fanta tended to raise the sentiment of admira
tion rate one of respect. Brought up, as Lord
Digby relates, with great care, and in retire
ment, there might be more gravity and reserve
than were usual in English ladies, in her de
portment ; but this was a " fault easy mended."
Having asked every possible question of her
chUdhood and youth, the ambassador protested
that "never heard he se much goed of any one as
of the Infanta." To this testimony may be again
added that of Toby Mathew, who portrays her so
free from pride and worldliness, "that she seemed to
" Description of the Infanta of Spain, by Toby Mathew.
Dated June, 28, 1623. — Inedited State Papers.
VOL. I. Y

322 LIFE AND TIMES OP
shine from her seul through her body ; " the beauty
of her mind very far exceeding that of her person.
Everyday this young Princess passed in prayer
three er four hours, and then occupied herself In
making something which might be sold fer the
benefit of the sick and wounded in the hospitals,
or busied herself in drawing lint eut of linen for
their use. She spent, in her charities, a hundred
pounds a month, appropriating what was aUowed
her for recreation to these goed deeds. Each
returning Wednesday and Saturday found her
in the confessional, er communicating, " for she
carrieth," relates Toby Mathew, "in particular,
a most tender devotion to the Blessed Sacra
ment, and the Immaculate Conception of our
Blessed Lady." This deep sense of her respon-
slbUIties, this earnest piety, alarmed the EngUsh
Puritans, who forget that whilst no one was more
steadfast te her faith than Katharine of Arragon,
there existed not a more tolerant being, as far as
we have the means of judging, nor sat upon the
throne of the Queen's-Consort ef England, one
more beloved by aU sects and classes of the
people than that lU-used and iU-fated foreigner.
They remembered, perhaps, that whUst the
Romish persuasion acted benlgnantly on her
mind, on that of her daughter it engendered
bigotry, and caused persecution.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 323
Professing this earnest piety. Donna Maria ap
pears also te have been free from the imprudence
of giddy coquetry, to which her sister, Anne ef
Austria, was prone. " She was of few words,
but free and affable with her ladies," and though
at first sight she gave ne indications of quick
ness of mind, those who knew her weU respected
her judgment, while they admired that freedom
from personal vanity, so rare in the young and
flattered. " Of her person, and beauty, and dress
ing," writes Toby Mathew, "she is careless,
and takes what they bring her vrithout much
ado." Her courage and calmness under trying
circumstances were also commended — the annal
ist thought it worth while to specify that " thun
der and lightning affrighted her not," " and
when, at Aranjuez, the Queen had made a public
entertainment for the King, and the scaffolding feU,
and boughs fell in and caught fire, and all the
company fled. Donna Maria remained calm and
coUected, only calling for the Conde di Ollvarez
to keep her from the crushing ef the people :
retiring at her usual pace, without any sign of
agitation. This happened when she was only
sixteen years of age.
Between the Infanta and her royal brother, Philip
IV., the greatest affection subsisted. Not a morn
ing passed that he did not visit her in her apart-
t2

324 LIFE AND TIMES OP
ments, and wait whUst she prepared to go abroad.
Yet, in spite of this partiality, she made a point
ef never interfering In public business. In one
respect she resembled Katharine ef Arragon;
although deeply sensible of any unkindness, she was
ene who would never expostulate vrith the unkind,
but grieved in secret. Here was true heroism : the
power te suffer, the wisdom to forbear : the great
ness of mind, not. In family disputes, to chaUenge
sympathy. Is a quality of inestimable importance,
both in private and pubUc life.
A portion only ef the careful eulogium passed on
the Infanta reached Charles, whUst he was as yet
contemplating a journey to see the rare being upon
whom his hopes of felicity were placed : but a de
scription was sent by Digby of the interview which
took place between him and the Infanta.
"After I had secluded her from His Majesty,"
wrote the ambassador, " I told her that I had
likewise a message to deUver her, with her per
mission, frem another cavalier, the Prince of
Wales. She blushed, and told me, 'I might;'
whereupon" Digby said, " that in regard to the de
sire which King James had to unite these king
doms in nearer friendship, by way of marriage,
there was nothing the Prince had se much at
heart." " So you hoped," he added, address
ing Charles, " It was agreeable unto her, and that

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 325
she Ukevrise wished weU, and would aid in the
effecting of it."
At this interrogation the Infanta "blushed
extremely, and asked particularly ef the Prince's
health, and how," adds Digby, " I had left you ;
and told me she gave me great thanks for the
favour you did her. I wUl set down the very
words in Spanish, for I think your Highness
should be angry with me for the omission of
any word in this particular : — ' Agradesco muche
al Principe de Inglatierra, la merced que me
haze.' "
Lord Digby inclosed also letters in Spanish, ad
dressed to Charles. The Infanta having heard
that her suitor was studying her native language
spoke to Digby on the subject. "He doth it,"
was the reply, "whereby to use vrith you a
style of more famUiarity." *'
These particulars are interesting, as proving that
it vvas not without seme inquiry and delibera
tion that Charles undertook te procure, in per
son, a knowledge of the young Princess to whom
his hand was destined.
The Cond6 de Gondomar, one of the most
astute diplomatists of his time, had now been
accredited to England fer the last three years.
His object in comingwas to give satisfaction to the
" Letter of Lord Digby, before quoted.

326 LIFE AND TIMES OF
King and Court en the subject of the marriage,
but the feeling ef the people was against him.
It was his arrival that had precipitated the faU of
Ralegh. It was from his Influence that any tolera^
tion to the oppressed Catholics would be dated.
Ely House, once the residence of the Bishop
of Ely, but given by Queen EUzabeth to her
favourite, Hatton, was the tenement destined
te receive the ambassadors of Spain; although
the envoys from the Palatinate were then In
England, and "no one knew," as it was said,
" how two buckets ceuld go down into the well
at once." ** But it was soon seen which "bucket
was to ge down ; " for, whilst he was waiting in
expectation of Gendomar's arrival, James had
coldly dismissed Baron Dona, the Prince Palatine's
envoy, saying that he disapproved ef his son-in-
law's election to the throne ef Bohemia as factious ;
and refusing to embark his subjects, "who were
as dear to him as his chUdren," in a war. This
indifference te his daughter's condition, and the
outrage offered te pubUc opinion in aUevring
mass to be celebrated in what had once been
the private chapel of the Bishop of Ely, scan
dalized all staunch Protestants, and Gondomar
was constrained to open a back deer in Ely
House to let in Catholics to worship. Never-
" Letter from Dr. Joseph Hall to Carleton.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 327
theless, the virago. Lady Hatton, who Uved almost
next door te the Spaniard, threw every hindrance
in her power In the way of that arrangement;
yet, in the very face of honest Protestant scruples,
the Ladies of the Court were invited to witness
the ceremonies at Ely House ; and, doubtless,
found it not inconsistent with their conscience to
comply.*' It was at this juncture that Buckingham is said
first to have proposed to Charles to evade open
censure by making a journey, incognito, to
Spain. Ner were such expeditions unknown in
those times. Buckingham weU knew, in this
Instancs, the tone of argument most appropriate
to address to a prince whese blameless career,
untainted by dissipation, had not seared one of the
best safeguards of youth — romance. The Prince
was accessible te the influence of that which Mac
kenzie caUs " a higher sense of virtue." A lever
of the refined and beautiful, he shrank from the
notion of a mere poUtical union ; the suggestions
which were thrown out from motives ef State
craft were received in a spirit ef trust and hope,
and sank instantly into a mind of deUcacy and
feeUng. Buckingham drew a picture, it is stated, of a
marriage contracted on pubUc grounds alone. He
»« State Papers, vol. cxxviii., p. 96,

328 LIFE AND TIMES OF
pointed out the miseries of such an alliance ; he
referred to the indifference, if not loathing, with
which a bride so selected would riew the object,..
not of her own choice, but ef that of the State,
for reasons with which she had no sympathy.
He portrayed the misery of one who could deem
herself nothing but a victim, and who ceuld not
fail to view with disgust a bond which brought
her from a beloved home to a foreign court, where
every early enjoyment of her youth must be for
gotten, every cherished association and remem
brance abandoned.
Buckingham found an attentive auditor. He
represented to Charles that by accomplishing a
journey te Madrid, and seeking an interriew with
his promised bride, he might create an interest
in her affections, and, by the attentions of a
lover, gain even the coldest heart. The
delicacy of the compliment would be felt also
in the Court ef Madrid; it would resemble the
fictions in which the Spaniards deUghted; it
would present him to the young Princess under
the aspect of a devoted suitor; it would expe
dite the conclusion ef those negotiations con-
cerniog the Palatinate which had languished
so long. These representations were heightened
by Murray, the Prince's tutor, who, seme in
sinuated, was instigated by the cunning Gon-

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 329
domar.'" Murray reminded his royal pupil that
his father had gone te Denmark to fetch his
wife ; that his grandfather, " living in the heart of
England," went inte Scotland to marry: especially
that' his great grandfather, James V., went into
France several times — ^first, te woo the daughter
of the French King, the Lady Mary of Lorraine :
that interviews between kings and princes were
customary; and that no occasion could be so
suitable as a negotiation of marriage. " God,"
added Murray, " had blessed the Prince with
an able body, fit for any exercise and recreation :
vrith great inteUectuals, fit to enter Into any
treaty himself; Ged had blessed him with a
ciril carriage, mUd and temperate — no way
passionate, as some princes were ;" and thus,
being fitted for the enterprise, the sagacious
Scot thought that a journey would improve
the Prince's abilities, and exhibit them te the
worid. «'
The Court, watchful ef what was passing, could
only guess by certain indications ef the probability
of the projected journey into Spain taking effect.
About nine weeks prerious to the commencement of
" This affair, as Mr. Brewer observes, "was something of
a counterpart to his son's knight-errantry." — Bishop Good
man's Life, note, vol. i., p. 363.
" Bishop Goodman, vol. i., p. 364.

330 LIFE AND TIMES OF
the Spanish journey, Charles was observed te hold a
long conference in his royal father's bedchamber.
The door was closed ; but the Prince opened and
closed it at times ; as if he were looking Inte the
adjoining ante-chamber to see if there was any
body there who could listen te what was going
on. James, In the course of that interview, broke
into loud cries ef passion. About a month
afterwards, a report ran through the Court that
Buckingham was te ge to Spain on a solemn
embassy. This rumour, however, was set afloat
merely that it might be discovered hew the
people stood "affected to the Spanish marriage.
A dispensation frem the Pope was necessary as a
preparatory st^p ; and James was heard to
lament that he ceuld net match his heir without
a dispensation from his enemy, which would be
acknowledging the Papal power. Yet he took
every means to compass the marriage treaty ; and
even Dr. Hakluyt, ene ef Prince Charles's
chaplains, who had circulated a pamphlet against
the Spanish marriage, was sent away from Court.
StUl there were innumerable difficulties in the way
of negotiation. It appears, indeed, from various
petitions, that, though Popery was considered
to be on the increase in England, the recusants
founded their strongest hopes on the Spanish
match. In December, 1621, a petition had been

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 331
presented to the King, complaining of the print
ing of Papistical books, the " swarming in of
Jesuits," and purposing te obviate the impending
evils — first, by helping the King of Bohemia, then
by marrying the Prince to one ef his own
religion.'^ The King replied, saying that he had
heard that his detention from Parliament, from ill
health, " had led seme fiery spirits to meddle with
matters far beyond their capacity, and intrench
ing on the prerogative." He forbade any fur
ther meddling with state mysteries : such as the
Prince's match, er attacks on the King of Spain ;
he resolved te punish aU insolence in Parliament ;
and would not deign to hear or te answer the
proposed petition, if It touched on the points for
bidden. " He would," he graciously added,
" make this a session, if good laws be derised."
To this extraordinary answer, which was
not published in the journals,^' the commons
retumed a firm but respectful rejoinder ; but were
shortly adrised that the King was pledged to the
Spanish match, and blamed their interfering with
it at aU.^*
So great were the impediments te the Spanish
treaty, that, since it seemed difficult te brave
"' State Papers, vol. cxxiv.. No. 3.
=" Ibid, No. 8.
«' Ibid, No. 27.

332 LIFE AND TIMES OP
opinion, a means was resorted to of evading any
outbreak ef the growing national discontent.
Meantime, about this juncture, the first intima
tion appears of the difficulties into which the ex
travagance of Buckingham had plunged him. Facts
stated by the Court Chronicle speak for them
selves. Lord MandevUle, then Lord President, had,
it appears, lent him ten thousand pounds. In com
pliance vrith the venal spirit of the day, the pre
mise of a payment was made contingent en Lord
MandeviUe's consent to the marriage of his eldest
son with Mistress Susan HiU, a relation of Buck
ingham's, and probably an humble relation, since
he gave the bride not only 10,000Z., which was to
be considered as discharging his debt, but also
premised to promote the Lord President, and to
give him ten dishes at court. It was rumoured
that Buckingham even promised an additional sum
ef 5,0001. te Manderille. The marriage seems to
have been hastened, in erder that it might take
place befoi'e the Prince's secret journey inte Spain,
for it was performed in the presence of the King,
who was Ul, and In bed, but who showed his delight
at the nuptials by blessing the bride with one of his
shoes. The match was said to have been an indiffer
ent one for the bridegroom, who could have had
25,000Z. with Lord Craven's daughter.''^
" State Papers, vol. cxxxviii., No. 23.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 333
The next affair which produced many days of
wonder was the Prince's joumey, a project which
had been broached, early in the course of his
diplomatic negotiations, by Gondomar.
He had already sought an Interview with the
most esteemed personal friend of the King's,
Ludovrick, Duke ef Richmond and Lennox, a
kinsman of the Monarch's.'^
On this occasion, after many compliments on both
sides had been exchanged, the Duke said very ear
nestly to the ambassador, " My lord, I pray deal
plainly with me, shall we have a match or no ? " To
this inquiry, Gondomar replied that the King did
his master great wrong If he doubted his intention,
since he had already gone so far in the business ;
and where," adds the crafty Spaniard, "would
my master in aU Christendom match his daughter
to greater advantage, either to a greater prince,
or one who may be more helpful or needful te
him, or with whom he should, hold more corre
spondency than vrith the heir to the English
crown?" He stated, nevertheless, certain objec
tions : the danger there would be to the Infanta ef
incurring the penalties of recusancy, for it was then
death for a priest te say mass in England." Tolera-
" This nobleman died suddenly in 1623, universally re
spected. — Grainger's Peers of James I., chap. ii.
*' Life of Bishop Goodman, vol. i., p. 36.

334 LIFE AND TIMES OF
tion must, therefore, be one stipulation ef the
treaty. A mlUion of money was to be bestowed
upon the young princess for her dowry; but be
fore this was given, a certainty must be obtained
that the marriage would prove a source of amity,
instead of disunion. These points being decided,
the treaty would be concluded. The Duke of Len
nox, en hearing these proposals, decided In his own
mind that the marriage ought never to take place,
for that it could net stand with the laws and safety
ef this kmgdom to permit a toleration of reUgion.^*
The journey of the young prince was, meantime,
retarded by the reluctance of the King. James
justly considered that continental nations might
impugn his natural affection, as weU as his judg
ment, in permitting the heir-apparent to quit the
kingdom, and to leave his royal father childless, for
Elizabeth of Bohemia had taken refuge ih the
Dutch states, and had not then looked to Eng
land as her exUe. He considered the danger,
writes a contemporary historian, "himself being
now aged, if he should die, what then might
befall his chUdren." '^ Hew little could he foresee
the extremities to which his princely son, then
the idol of the nation, would be hereafter re
duced, owing partly te the false system and erren-
»" Life of Bishop Goodman, vol. i., p. 36.
'' Goodman.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 335
eous notions implanted within his mind at this all
important season ef his youth. The greatest peril
that James feared, was the journey through
France, at that time full of straggling soldiers, seve
ral armies having been recently disbanded. But it
was argued by the eager advocates of the Spanish
journey, that in France, although highway rob
beries were frequent, banditti In multitudes were
rare. The Prince was to travel with a numerous
retinue, he was to keep to the main reads, and there
would be no fear of robbery or violence. Per
suaded at length by these arguments, the King
gave way upen a Monday, the seventeenth of
February, 1622-23. He went to Newmarket ;
"there," writes Sir Robert Carey, the Prince's
chamberlain, "the Prince appointed myself
and the rest ef his servants to meet him
two days after. But the first news we heard
was that the Prince and my Lord Duke were
gone to Spain. This made a great hubbub In our
Court, and in aU England besides."
It was at first hoped that the Prince had gene
anywhere but te Spain, "but those who so be
Ueved," had, it was said, no ground but desire.'
The truth was soon circulated.
' Letter from Mr. Meade to Sir Martin StuteviUe.— Ellis's
Letters Illustrative of English History, vol. iii., 1st series,
p. 216.

336 LIFE AND TIMES OF
There had, it appears, been a formal leave-
taking between the Prince and his father, and
this scene was vritnessed by the able shipwright,
Phineas Pette.
Phineas had been in the serrice of Prince
Henry, and had constructed a smaU vessel fer
the amusement ef that royal youth, and he was
now permitted to be present at the leave-taking
between Charles, or, as his father styled him,
" Babie," and the King. " At their taking horse,"
he related, " I kissed both their hands, and they
enly gave me an item to that I should shortly
go to sea in the Prince.'"^
The King, after making some stipulations as
to the day of the return of his precious tra
veUers, parted from them composedly ; " he did
then," says Goodman, " express no passion at
aU, fer he was an exceUent master of his own
affections, if you would give him a Uttle res
pite, and not take him suddenly. He carried
himself as though there were no such thing in
tended, and se he took his journey through
Kingston and Newmarket."
"Fer want of better matter," writes Mr.
Chamberlain, "I send you here certain verses
made upon Jack and Tom's journey (for the
Prince and Lord Marquis went through Kent
' Nichols, vol i., p. 807.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 337
under the names of Jack and Tom Smith).
They were fathered at first upen the Prince, but,
I hear, were only corrected and amended by
him." 3
"They were fair riding coats," he continues,
" and false beards, ene of which feU off before
they arrived at Gravesend, and caused suspi
cion." Messengers were therefore sent after the
fugitives ; and they were overtaken near Sitting-
bourne, where one of their horses faUed; they
were detained at Canterbury, but got away;
but were again stopped at Dover by erder
of the Privy Council, where they gave some
" secret satisfaction " to the authorities of that
port. This enterprise, se consistent with Charles's
character, so agreeable to Buckingham's high
spirits, had not been made known to the Privy
CouncU. The King sent a message to them to say it
was the Prince's doing, and not that of Buck
ingham; and that the CouncU was net told of
the scheme because "secrecy was the soul of
the business." The Council was ordered to
"stay," by a proclamation, the "amazement of
the people," who began to conclude that the
' Inedited State Papers. Domestic. March 8. 1623.
TOL. I. Z

338 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Prince would be married " at a mass." It
appears, hov.'ever, without any doubt, that the
whole was a plot of James's ; for the Treasurer
of the Household, Lord Brooke, the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, Herlot the jeweUer, and
others, had been commanded by His Majesty,
when he was at Newmarket, te ge to the Tower
and select some fine jewels, suitable to wear in
hats, and " the best rope of pearls," and some
fine jewels, fit for a woman, for His Majesty to
choose, which he wUl send abroad. They were
not aU for presents, but some to be' lent to
the Prince, and restored on his return home."*
Buckingham, we hear from the same authority,
took Sir Paul Pindar's great diamonds, promis
ing "te talk with him about paying for
them." A more detaUed account of the commence
ment of this singular journey than the preceding
may, however, be collected from other services.
The travellers slept one night at Newhall; on
the foUowing day* they were accompanied by
Sir Richard Graham, Master of the Marquis's
Horse, and his own earUest friend, adviser, and
confidant.^ They set off vrith a very small reti-
' State Papers, vol. cxxxix.. No. 16.
' Feb. 18th. '
° Reliquiee Wottonianse.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 339
¦ nue, some of which they dismissed at various places,
upon some idle pretence er another, but enly to get
rid of them. Thus they proceeded towards Graves
end ; but, on crossing the river, a difficulty oc
curred. They had no smaU pieces ef sUver about
them; and for want of them, were obliged te
give the boatman, who rowed them across, a
piece of twenty-two shiUings ; which, as Sir Henry
Wotton relates, " struck the poor fellow into such
melting tenderness, that so goed gentlemen should
be going (fer so he suspected) about some quar
rel beyond seas," that he thought it right te
acquaint the ;, officers of the town with his sus
picions. A message was instantly despatched
to detain the travellers at Rochester ; but they
had passed through the city before it ar
rived. The perU of discovery had not yet passed.
As the Prince and his companion ascended the
hiU above Rochester, they beheld, to their great
consternation, the equipage of the French am
bassador, attended by one of the royal carriages,
approaching them in state. " This," says Wotton,
"made them baulk the beaten road, and teach
post hackneys te leap hedges." It seemed, how
ever," says the same writer, " as if a voice had run
before them; for at Canterbury, as they were
preparing to take fresh horses, the Mayor ef the
z2

340 LIFE AND TIMES OF
town came up, and declared, with very little cere
mony, first, that he had an order from the Privy
CouncU to arrest them ; next, on finding them In
credulous, from Sir Levris Lewkners, Master of
the Ceremonies ; and, thirdly, from Sir Richard
Malnwaring, then Lieutenant of Dover Castle.
Buckingham had no leisure " te laugh " at
this occurrence ; but, taking off his disguise, he
told the Mayer that he was going "covertly
with such slight company," to take a survey
ef the fieet of the narrow seas, which was then
in preparation. Thus, this obstacle was vrith
some difficulty overcome; but the" disguise stUl
puzzled the worthy man in office. The travellers
journeyed onwards, but met with a fresh recognition
frem the boy who carried their baggage, and
who had been at Court, and had a suspicion who
the party were; but it was not difficult to en
sure his silence. Owing te bad horses, and these
hindrances, it was six in the evening before the
party reached Dover.
Here they met the two gentlemen who were
alone in their confidence. One of them was Sir
Francis Cottington, who was selected not only
for his intimate knowledge of Prince Charles's
affairs, but from his acquaintance vrith the Spanish
Court, " where he had," says Sir Henry Wotton,
' gotten singular credit, even with that cautious

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 341
nation, by the temper of his carriage." He was,
indeed, a prudent man, weU acquainted with
business, and conversant vrith Spanish and French.
He had been created a baronet enly two days
before this journey, his famUy holding a re
spectable rank at Godmanstown, Somerset
shire. At his first entrance into the world, Cotting
ton had only fulfilled the post ef Gentleman of
the Horse to Sir Philip Stafford, Vice-Cham
berlain to Queen Elizabeth; but he was after
wards attached to the embassy in Spain, and
in 1621, was made secretary te Prince Charles.
He was considered to know the politics of the
Spanish Court "to a hair." Charles, in spite
of the jealousy afterwards manifested by Bucking
ham towards this gentleman, who had protested
strongly against the Spanish joumey, never forgot
his early companionship in an undertaking of some
risk. He promoted him in various ways, and,
in 1631, created him Baron Cottington, ef Han
worth, and Lord Cottington enjoyed several high
offices, from which he was driven when the troubles
began in 1640. Charles, however, trasted him to
the last, and, when his faUing cause detained him
at Oxford, made Cottington High Treasurer of his
diminished resources.
It was the fate of this loyal man to follow the

342 LIFE AND TIMES OP
fortunes ef Charles the Second into exUe : thus
performing, faithfully, two high, but different
functions — the ene to attend a youth in the height
of power and prosperity on his chivalric enter
prise ; the ether te solace privation, and to con
sole the young and wandering exUe under his
difficulties.' The other chosen attendant was Endymion
Porter, who had been bred up in Spain from
a boy, and was familiar with the language.
From Spain he was taken into the service of
Edward VilUers, was brought to England, and
introduced before the time whi^MfcBucklngham
or his family was acceptable at Whitehall.
These five persons composed. In the first In
stance, the whole of the party, Porter fulfiUing
the office ef Bedchamber-man te the Prince.*
Fer some time after the departure of the
Prince, ne precise news ef his movement was
received at Court.
"We have Uttle certainty of the Prince's
journey since his going hence," writes Mr. Cham
berlain, "but only that they landed at Bou
logne the Wednesday, and rede three posts that
' Nichols, iv., p. 806.
' Porter, as it appears by a letter in the State Paper
Office, addressed by him to his wife, was at this time a
married man, and his wife, Olivia Porter, was a relation ofthe
Marchioness of Buckingham.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 343
night. On Friday they came te Paris, very
weary, and, resting there on Saturday, went
away early on Sunday moming. Seme gave
out that during their abode there, they saw the
Klng^ at supper, and the Queen'" practising a
baU, with divers other ladles. Which, though it
be somewhat confidentlaUy affirmed, yet I think
It not probable, by reason it was their first
Saturday in Lent. We have had since many
rumours that they were stayed, but now they
say a post should come yesternight, with news
that they are past Bayenne, and that my Lords
Digby and jGgftdomar, with I know net hew many
litters and cSaches, were ready at the frontiers te
receive them, which sounds as unlikely as most of
the rest. Sir Edward Herbert, our ambassador,
knew nothing of their being at Paris tUl the Lord
of CarUsle's coming. AU in a manner agree
that either the French King had notice of it
before their arrival, or time enough to have de
tained him, had he been so disposed. Divers
of their servants and foUowers are gone after
them by land, and more preparing te go by sea.''
It appeared afterwards that the passage te
Boulogne was stormy, nevertheless, the Prince
" Louis xm.
'" Anne of Austria.

344 LIFE AND TIMES OF
and his followers landed there two hours after,
in the afternoon ef the nineteenth of February.
They reached Montreuil en the same night,
" like men of dispatch," and Paris on the second
day afterwards.
Upi to this time they escaped detection;
although, three pests before they entered Paris,
they encountered some German gentlemen, whom
they had met at Newmarket, who suspected that
the disguised and hurried traveUers were no less
important personages than the Prince and the
Favourite ; but these Germans were " outfaced
by Sir Richard Graham, who would^needs per
suade them that they were mistaken.""
At Paris the traveUers passed one day only;
but that day was the forerunner of signal events,
and pregnant with important consequence, both
to Buckingham and to his royal charge.
Meantime, King James, in spite of his fears at
home, was madly jealous of any surmise respecting
Spain, er the Catholic religion.
On the Sunday after the Prince's departure, we
are told by Mr. Chamberlain, " that aU the Council
about the town came to Paul's Cross, when it
was expected somewhat would have been said;
but the preacher had bis lesson in hcec verba, only
to pray for the Prince's prosperous journey and
" Reliquise Wottonianse.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 345
safe return, and the next day the Bishop, conven
ing aU his clergy, gave them the same charge ; but
some of them had anticipated the commandment
and proceeded further, whereof ene desired God
to be merciful unto him now that he was going
to the House of Rimmon." But all were not so care
ful; old Dr White, Prebend of St. Paul's, was
dismissed for praying that the King and Prince
might be preserved from any that should "go
ahout to withdraw them from their first love,
and natural religion." This was Interpreted as a
sort of Ubel.'^
And now Buckingham was, for the second time.
In the great centre of aU civilization. Paris was pro
bably unchanged ; but few persons who had known
the Court ef France In the days of the great Henry
could have recognized it during the weak rule of his
successor. Henry IV., adding another instance
in corroboration of the remark, that during five
hundred years not one of the French monarchs
had attained the age of sixty, had now been dead
twelve years.'' Te that manly and powerful
monarch, bred up in the house of a peasant, his
" Inedited Letter in the State Paper Office, from Mr.
Chamberlain to Sir D. Carleton, 1623.
" He was killed on May 10th, 1610.— See Sir George
Carew's Relation ofthe State of France under Henry lY.,
in Birch's Negotiations, p. 481.

346 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Iron nerves braced by hazards almost incredible ;
his courage proved in battles a hundred and
twenty-five In number; his hardihood so great
that for two years he was never seen unbooted ;
being perpetuaUy in the exercise ef war and
hunting — to this hero, as prudent and sagacious
as he was brave, had succeeded a duU and heavy
boy, slow in speech, yet quick te avenge, on any of
his young companions, petty or Imagined slights.
Timid and even dastardly by nature, the early
pusillanimity of Louis the Thirteenth had at
tracted the notice of his father. "Faut-il done
que je sois pfere d'un poltron ! " was the involun
tary exclamation ef Henry of Navarre. Such
was, however, his successor, who had. In truth, far
more of his mother's disposition than ef his father's
frank and princely nature. He had the Medicean
fierceness and imperlousness ef character, coupled
with an abject spirit, which was fostered, whUst
cramped, by the potent dominion of his mother
over his mind.'*
Marie de Medici, the queen-mother, had ob
tained the highest reputation fer sanctity, charity,
and prudence. Of her beauty, these charms which
could rival the attractions of the famed Gabrielle
d'Estrees, the chroniclers of the day speak loudly.
In the affections of her royal husband she had, how-
" Birch's Negotiations, p. 492.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 347
ever, suffered, not so much from the influence ef her
rival's comeliness, as from the wit and vivacity of
GabrieUe's conversation. Like her son, Marie de
Medici was slow in speech, and the French
accounted her dull and uninteresting ; but, for
the " main grounds ef attending to her profit or
her power," she was, writes an eye-witness of her
career for four years,'' "provident enough, and
her commanding and high spirit, caused her to
be obeyed in all in which she was permitted to
meddle." '® And the event justified this opin
ion. Her daughter-in-law, Anne of Austria,
daughter of PhiUp the Third ef Spain, had been
several years the vrife of Louisthe Thirteenth, when
Charles and Buckingham saw her in all the per
fection ef her youthful loveliness at Paris. Bern
in the year 1602, Anne must have been at this
time in her twenty-second year. She is de
scribed as having been, at the age of fifteen,
when (having been married the year previously
by proxy) she was first introduced to her
royal consort, singularly attractive. An ancient
lady of the court drew a lively picture ef her
appearance to Madame de MotteviUe. " The
first time that she saw the Queen," said that
chronicler of other days, " she was seated upon
" Sir George Carew.
'" Birch's Negotiations.

348 LIFE AND TIMES OP
cushions, after the Spanish fashion, surrounded by
a number of ladies; she was dressed in green
satin, embroidered with gold and sUver; her
sleeves hanging, but caught up on the arm vrith
immense diamonds, serring as buttons. She had
on a close ruff; and on her head a small hat, of
the same colour as her gown, from which hung a
plume ef Heron's feathers, adding, by their dark
hue, to the beauty of her hair, which was ex
tremely light, and frizzed in large curls."" Such,
in early youth, vras the appearance of that
Princess whose attractions proved eventually a
source of perU and discredit to Buckingham.
Her portraits give us no idea ef a beauty so
commanding as that which Is ImpUed by the
extraordinary infiuence of her attractions ; but It
is probable that, like that of mest Spanish
women, it faded prematurely, and that her great
charm consisted in the gaiety of her temper ; in
her sweetness and generosity of character ; and in
a certain sentimental turn of gaUantry, which she
conceived net to be incompatible with female
rirtue. At the period of Charles's first visit te
Paris, Marie de Medici stUl ruled paramount over
the weak character of her sen. It had been her
aim, even before the death ef Henry the Fourth,
to vrin the cold affections of her only offspring, as
" Memoirs of Madame de Motteville, vol. i., p. 8.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 349
weU as those of the son of her rival, the Marquis
de Verneuil, te herself. At the time when Anne of
Austria, a child, gave her hand to Louis, a chUd
also — for their ages tallied — there was an evident
disposition on the part ef the former to attach
herself to the partner to whom the decree of
state poUcy had joined her compulsorily. She
felt no disgust at his appearance, for, though
greatly inferior to the Due de Vendome and the
Marquis de Verneuil in manly beauty, the young
King was taU and weU-formed ; and the dark
ness of his countenance was ne disparagement
In the eyes of a Princess who had been accus
tomed to the rich tint of Moorish and Spanish
complexions.'* Upon the death of the Due de
Lulsnes, the favourite of Louis, In 1621, Marie de
Medici was left with no ether rival in her maternal
influence ever her son, than his young wife. By a
fataUty such as too often attends royal marriages,
it was henceforth decreed that the young couple
were not to love each ether. Anne, it appears
plainly from her own confession, might have done
so, had she been left te herself; '^ and the young
King, it was also aUeged, admired the beauty of his
wife and respected her amiable qualities ; but it was
not the policy of Marie de Medici, nor afterwards
" Madame de Motteville.
" Ibid, p. 8.

350 LIFE AND TIMES OF
that of Cardinal de Richelieu, that these natural
affections should have their course. The King
was known to avow to a confidant, that whUst he
was attracted to his vrife, he dared not avow it
either to his mother or te Richelieu, whose
counsels and services, he added, were of far more
importance to him than the affection of his
vrife.2» Such was the state of domestic affairs at the
court of Louis, when the Prince and Buckingham
beheld, for the first time, these who were destined
to awaken in the one an honourable and enduring
attachment, in the other a mad and criminal
passion. They stUl maintained their disguise, ner was it
difficult, for, as Sir Henry Wotton observes, " the
impossibility te conceive so great a Prince and
favourite suddenly metamorphosed into traveUers,
with no greater train, was enough to make any
man Uving unbelieve his five senses." In order
to add te their disguise, Buckingham bought
periwigs, to overshadow their foreheads; and
thus provided, they spent a day in viewing the
city and the court, which Buckingham had
visited before, when in training for his courtier
destiny, but which te Charles was an object of
=» Madame de Motteville, p. 32.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 351
novel and pecuUar interest, France being " neigh
bour to his future estates." ^'
Fortune favoured their curiosity. From a gal
lery in the royal palace, they were so favoured as
to see the King, solacing himself with familiar
pleasures; the queen-mother, at her own table;
nor were they discovered even by Monsieur
de Cadenat, who had so lately visited England
as ambassador, and who must weU have known
their features. Towards the evening, by an appa
rent chance, though, as Sir Henry Wotton ob
serves, "underlined vrith a Providence," the
traveUers had a full view of the young queen, and
of Henrietta Maria, the future queen ef England.
These princesses were, vrith the ladies of the
Court, practising a dance and masque, but the
diversion appears to have been held in private.
The travellers, however, hearing two gentlemen
talk of geing to vritness it, pressed In after them,
and were admitted by the Due de Montbazon, the
Queen's Chamberlain, from courtesy te strangers,
when, at the same time, many ef the French, who
vrished to be spectators, were rejected. " Note
here," observes Wotton, " even with the point of
a diamond, by what oblique steps and imaginable
preparatives the High Disposer of princes' affec
tions deth sometimes conceive the secrets of
•" Madame de Motteville, p. 32.

352 LIFE AND TIMES OP
his wUl." It was afterwards found that the young
face which Vandyck has so often depicted on
his canvas, surrounded as it was by maturer
beauties, made an impression upon the imagination
of Charles which only required certain circum
stances to be heightened into love.^^
Anne of Austria, nevertheless, bore away the
palm in the eyes ef Buckingham, and even of his
princely charge. WhUst they remained at Paris,
the King wrote to them to the foUowing effect: —
" Sweett boyes : the newes ef youre going is
allreaddie so blowin abroade as I am forced for
youre safetie te poste this bearare after you
who will give you his best advyce and attend
ance in youre journey. Ged blesse youe both,
my sweete babes, and sonde you a safe and happye
returne. "James." 23
On their part, the traveUers thus vsrote : —
"Sie,
" Since the closing of our last, we have
been at Court againe (and, that we might not
nowe hold you In palne, we assure you that we
have not been knowen), where we saw the young
'^ Rehquise Wottonianse.
" Harleian MSS., 6987.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 353
queene, lltteU Monsieure and Madame, at her
practising ef a maske that is intended by the
Queene to be presented te the Kinge, and in it
there danced the Queene and Madame, vrith as
mannie as made up nineteen faire dancing ladies,
amongst which the Queene is the handsomest,
which hath wrought in me a great desire te see
her sister. So, in haste, going to bed, we humbUe
take our leaves, and rest
"Your Majestie's most humble and obedient
" sone and servant,
" Chaeles ;
" and your humble slave and doge,
" Steenie."
On the foUowing day, Febmary the twenty-
third, the Prince and Buckingham left Paris at
the early hour of three, and proceeded towards
Bayenne. Their joumey, meantime, had become
the theme of conversation in England, and even
on the day on which the Prince set sail, it was
the theme of general discussion ; 2* yet, abroad,
so slowly did tidings travel in those days,
they were stiU able to preserve their incog
nito. At Bordeaux, however, they nearly revealed
their secret. Tired, probably, ef their peasant
" Nichols, voL iv., p. 809, note.
VOL. I. A A

354 LIFE AND TIMES OF
suits, they bought fine riding coats, " all of one
colour and ef a noble simplicity," and the proud
demeanour of Buckingham, and the high-bred
grace of the Prince, could no longer be con
cealed. They were invited by the Due d'Epernon te be
his guests, and Cottington was employed to re
fuse the invitation, so as to avoid exciting sus
picion. He was therefore obliged to teU the
Duke that he and his party were " gentlemen ef
mean degree, and formed to Uttle courtship," and
the excuse was received ; otherwise, the Duke,
being, as Sir Henry Wotton observes, " no super
ficial man in the practices of the world, might
have pierced somewhat deeper than their out
sides." 2=
The season of Lent was new advanced, and the
traveUers could obtain no meat in the inns. Sir
Henry Wotton relates an anecdote, which, as he
remarks, is characteristic of the Prince, who is
the chief hero of the little incident.
"There was, near Bayenne, a herd of goats
vrith their young ones, upon which sight. Sir
Robert Graham teUs the Marquis he would snap
up ene of the kids, and make some shift to carry
him close to their lodging; which, the Prince
overhearing, ' Why, Richard,' says he, ' do you
'' ReUquise Wottonianse, p. 216.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 355
think you may practise here your old tricks again
upon the border ? ' Upon which words, they first
give the goatherd good contentment, and then,
whUe the Marquis and his servant (being set on
foot) were chasing the kid about the stack, the
Prince, from horseback, kUled him in the head
with a Scottish pistol." ^'^
The lofty bearing ef Buckingham, and courteous
demeanour ef Charles, were not unnoticed by the
Count de Grammont, the Governor ef Bayenne,
that "jealous key," as Sir Henry Wotton terms
it, of France. He perceived that they were
gentlemen ef much more consequence and higher
station than their dress implied ; nevertheless, he
permitted them, courteously, to pass forward.
Philip IV., at whose court they were soon to
present themselves, was new only in his nine
teenth year. Like his weak father, he had
thrown the reins of government, soon after his
accession,^' into the hands of an unworthy
favourite. The Conde de OUvares, who had been
a gentleman of the bed-chamber to Philip, when
the Prince ef Asturias was the haughty raler over
the destinies of the Spanish nation. Corrupt, yet
able, he is stated te have increased the revenues ef
the crown, and, so far, te have served his sovereign
" ReUquise Wottonianse.
" In 1621,
aa2

356 LIFE AND TIMES OP
by several severe but salutary measures. Having,
however, acquired some credit for these reforms,
he gave loose te his own rapacity, whilst he
checked that of others. He even surpassed his
predecessors in acts ef corruption ; his heart was
depraved ; his selfish ambition boundless ; and
his private character- was suspected, not vrithout
just cause, to have been stained with the dark
est crimes.^* Such was the minister to whom
Charles and Buckingham were now te bend, as
suppUants and suitors ; for PhUip,^^ imbecile and
indifferent, and plunged inte degrading'vlces, was
wholly a cipher In the profuse and stately Court
ever which he was the nominal ruler.
Throughout the rest ef the journey, the tra
vellers did not pass entirely unknown ; but were,
as a writer of the day informs us, " offered great
honom-, would they have yielded to have been
publickly known," er in case of their return by
the same route.
The Lords Andover and Kensington had gone
twelve days previously in the same direction;
and. In short, about two hundred nobles and
" History of Spain and Portugal. — Cabinet Cyclopaedia,
vol. i., pp. 91, 92.
'' Of his iUegitimate children, the most famous was the
celebrated Don Juan, surnamed of Austria, beUeved to be
the son of an actress of Madrid. " On this son the
choicest favours of the crown were conferred." — ^Ibid, 99.

. GEOEGE VILLIEES. 357
gentlemen had set saU at Portsmouth, intending to
land at St. Sebastian's, and te ride overland to
Madrid.^" Meantime, the King desired his clergy
not to "prejudicate the Prince's journey, either In
their sermons or prayers ; but yet to pray to God
to preserve him in his journey, and grant him a
safe retum te us" — not In more, he ordered,
" nor in any other words than those." "
The appearance of these two adventurous tra
veUers at Madrid was far from agreeable to Lord
Digby, who would have prevented it if he had
had the power. One consideration in the mind
of that ambassador was a fear lest the arrival
of the lavish favourite should increase the pe
cuniary difficultes in which he was himself in
volved. Twenty thousand pounds had been al
lowed for his embassage, but that sum was already
exceeded by some thousands.'^ James chose to
say that much expense would be saved by the
Lord Admiral's dexterous management, but
Bristol answered, "Net one penny." AU, the
ambassador declared, should be done fer his
royal master's honour, but everything was to go
on privately untU the Papal dispensation should
^ EUis's Letters, vol. iii., p. 132, 1st series.
'' Ibid, 124.
'^ Letter from the Earl of Bristol to King James. Madrid,
Feb. 22, 1623-4.— State Papers, Foreign.

358 LIFE AND TIMES OP
arrive. Even at this early period, the joumey
of the Infanta to England was discussed. By
land It would, it was thought, be "very chargeable,"
and extraordinary inconvenient. The Spaniards,
too," as the Earl stated, "thought the portion
demanded by the English very exorbitant, and
only to be expected had the Infanta been either
deformed or of mean birth." '^
In the midst of these negotiations, the Ul-
tlmed arrival of the Prince and Buckingham came,
not to obviate obstacles, but to multiply them.
Digby, now Earl of Bristol, whose jealousy of
Buckingham may be detected throughout aU his
correspondence, was greatly discomposed by their
appearance at Madrid. Nor was this a senti
ment confined to Digby. HoweU, who perfectly
understood Spanish affairs, observes in his let
ters : —
" And others were ef the same opinion as the
ambassador, namely, that the journey was Ul-
advised, hazardous, undisguised, and unpopular."
The King, however, was still delighted with
the momentous frolic. On the twenty-sixth of
February he wrote from Newmarket, telling the
Prince and Marquis what lords were te f eUow them
to Spain. " Their poor old dade," he added, " was
^' Letters from the Earl of Bristol to King James.
Madrid, Feb. 22, 1623-4. Inedited State Papers.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 359
lamer than ever he was, both ef his right hand and
foot and wryttes all this out of his naked bedde." '*
The King having, in fact, encountered a very se
rious accident during the previous year, his health
was daUy becoming more feeble. It is, therefore,
almost touclung to find the kind-hearted, weak
Monarch, prematurely aged as he was, entering
most heartUy Into all that concerned his two absent
treasures, ef whose enjoyment he theught, it is ob
vious, far more than the welfare of his subjects.
The Prince had left instructions that sixteen of his
suite should follow him, with his jewels and other
articles. The King, however, complains in his
letter that the " imperfect note my babie had left'
put him Into a great deal of pain, " fer ye left,"
he says, " some necessary servants out, in the
opinion of all your principal officers, and ye ken,
as I was forced te add these, then everie man
ranne upon me for his freende, se I was tom
in peecis amongst thamme. I have ne more
to saye," he thus concludes, "but that I weare
Steenie's picture in a blew ribben under my
wastceate, next my hearte." ^^
The foUovring letter gives a characteristic
account of the Prince and Steenie : —
" Nichols, 811.
" Harl. MSS., 389. Quoted in Nichols's Progresses, vol.
iii., p. 808.

360 life and times of
"Deae Dad and Gossope,
" On Friday last (March seventh)
wee arrived here at five o'clock at night, both in
perfect helth. The caus whie wee advertised you
of it no soner, was that wee knew you would be
glad to hear as weU ef the maner ef oure reception
as of oure arrivaU, First, wee resolved to discover
the woer,'^ becaus upon the speedle opening of the
ports we fond (found) posts making such hast
after us, that we knew it would be discovered
within twelve hours after, and better wee had
the thanke of it then a postUlion. The next
morning wee sent for Gendamar, who went pre
sentlie te the Conde ef OUvares, and as speedUIe
gott me your (Doge Steenie) a private audience
of the Kinge.
" When I was to returne backe to my ledging,
the Cend^ of OUvares, himself alone, would needs
accompanle me backe againe to salute the Prince
in the King's name.
" The next day (March 9, Sunday, o.s.) wee
had a private visit ef the Kinge, the Queene, the
Infanta, Don Carolus, and the Cardinal, in sight
of aU the world ; and I may caule It a private obli
gation, hidden from nebodie, for there" was the
Pope's Nuntio, the Emperor's Imbassador, the
French, and alle the streets fild vrith gards and
=» To throw off Charles's disguise.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 361
other people. Before the King's coch went the
best of his nobiUties ; after followed all the Ladies
of the Court. Wee sate in an invisible coch, be
caus nobedie was suffered to take notice of it,
though seen by aU the world. In this forme they
passed three times by us, but before wee could get
away, the Cond6 of OUvares came inte our coch,
and convaied us home, where he tould us the King
longd and died for want of a nere sight of our weer.
First he took me in his coch to goe to the Kinge.
We found him walking in the streets with his
cloke throne over his face, and a sword and
buckler by his side. He leped inte the coch, and
away he came to find the weer in another place
appoynted, where there past much kindnes and
compliment one to another. You may judge by
this how sensible the Kinge is ef your sone's
joumie, and if wee can eyther judge by outward
shoes (shews) or generaU speeches, we have rea
son to condeme your Imbassadors for righting
tow (writing too) sparinglie then tow much.
" To conclude, we finde the Conde of OUvares
so overvaluing ef our journie, that he is so fuU of
reaU courtesle that we can doe no less than beseech
your Majestie to right the kindest letter ef thanks
and acknowledgement you can unto him.
" He said ne later unto us than this moming,
that if the Pope would not give a dispensation

362 LIFE AND TIMES OP
for a wife, they would give the Infanta to the
(thy) son's Babie as his wench, and has this day
rio-hten (written) to the CardinaU Ludovlcio, then
Pope's nephew, that the Kinge of England hath
put such an obUgation upon this Kinge in sending
his Sone hether that he intreats him to make
hast of the dispensation, fer he can denie him
nothing that is in his kingdome. We must hould
you thus much longer te teU you the Pope's
Nuntio works as maliciouslie and as activelie as
he can against us, but reseves such rade answers
that we hoep he wIU soon werie en't.
" Wee make this coUection of it, that the Pope
will be verie loth to grant a dispensation, which
If he will not doe, then wee would gladUe have
your directions how fare wee may ingage you in
the acknowledgement ef the Pope's spirituall
power, for we aUmest find, if you wIU be con
tented to acknowledge the Pope's cheefe Hed
under Christ, that the mach wUl be made without
him. So craving your blessing, wee rest
" Your Ma' ties humble, obedient sene and servant,
" Chaeles.
"MadriU, the 10th of March, 1623.
" Your humble slave and doge, " Steenie.
" For the best of Fathers and Masters."

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 363
On another sheet, written at the same time, but
signed by " Steenie " alone, and perhaps written
vrithout the Prince's knowledge, he says : — " The
cheefest advertlsment of aU wee omitted in oure
other letter, which was to let you know how we
like your daughter, his wife, and my ladie mistrls.
Without flatterie, I think there is not a sweeter
creature in the world. Babie Charles himself is
so touched at the hart, that he confesses all he
ever yett saw is nothinge to her."
The King, in his answer to this letter, dated
March twenty-fifth, says : — " I have written a letre
to the Cond6 d'OIivares, as beth of you desired me,
as fuU of thankes and kyndnes as can be desyred,
as Indeed he weU deserves."
"I know not," says the King, in reply, "quhat ye
meane by my acknowledging the Pope's spirituaU
supremacie. I am sure ye wolde net have me to
renounce my religion for aU the world ; but all I
can guess at your meaning is, that it may be ye
have an aUusion te a passage in my booke against
BeUarmine, quhaire I offer, if the Pope wold guyte
his godheade, and usurping over Kings, te acknow
ledge him for the Cheefe Bisheppe, te whom all
appeals of churchmen ought to lye en dernier
ressort; the verie wordes I sonde you heere inclosed,
and that is the furthest my conscience wUl permit
me to goe upon this pointe, for I am net a Mon-

364 LIFE AND TIMES OF
sieur, quho can shifte his religion as easilie as he
can shifte his shirte quhen he commeth frem
tennice." The passage in his book, which the King fancied
Buckingham might aUude to (though he more
probably had never read it), is thus written, in
the King's own hand, en a separate slip of paper :
"And for myselfe. If that were yett the ques
tion, I wolde with aU my halrte give my consent
that the Bisheppe of Rome showlde have the first
seate. I, being a Western king, wolde go vrith
the Patriarche of the West. And fer his temporall
principalities ever the seignorie of Rome, I do not
quenell It nether, lett him in God's name be
primus Episcopus inter omnes Episcopos et Princeps
Episcoporum, se it be no other wayes but as St.
Peter was Princeps Apostolorum"^''
To these letters, Endymion Porter added an
account in a letter to his wife, that the Prince and
Duke were "most handsomely received. The
King, Queen, and Infanta," he adds, " drove out
yesterday ^* in a coach, when the Prince, in
another coach, saw his mistress, and was much
stricken vrith her beauty." ^*
It was soon found necessary to retrench the
" Harleian MSS., 6987.— Printed at length in Nichols.
»' March 10, 1622-23.
'" State Papers.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 365
numbers that were to ge to Spain, that the ships
"might not be pestered;" no lord was to have
had more than four men, no gentleman mere than
two. Even this seems to us rather a full comple
ment in the present day ; but, when it is remem
bered what an extraordinary number ef jewels
were wom in the dresses of that day, it vrill not
appear too many te take care of the valuables
conveyed by each peer, er to maintain the dignity
and state so much insisted en at that period.
Amongst other personages who foUowed
Charles, er, as he was called in Spain, " the wooer
to the Spanish Court," was Archy, King James's
fool, who must needs also have his attendant,
which was at first refused, but afterwards allowed.
By AprU, the Prince's household, jewels, apparel,
and the robes for St. George's Day, were gone ;
tilting armour, caparisons, and horses, asked for
by Charles and Buckingham, were also to fol
low. " The dispensation," Conway wrote, frem
Spain, to Sir Thomas Wentworth, " will soon be
there, and nothing but either the desperately
envious, or vUe almanack-makers, arguing from
conjunction of planets, now talk of delay."
It Is curious to remark hew eager these about
the Court, and above all, those dependant on
Buckingham, were fer the marriage, and how lit
tle it was wished fer by the majority of the people.

366 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Ten ships were to set out in April, to bring
back by the end of May their rich charge ; such
were the expectations cherished in England.
Digby, a sceptical looker on, did not think that
the match would be advanced by the Prince's
arrival; whUst at home, difficulties arose as to
the condition of the ten ships intended te be sent
with the horses ; the Prince Royal, built for
Prince Henry, was found to be in so damaged a
state that she was net sea-worthy ; this vessel was
repaired, In order to bring back Buckingham, who
was expected home before the Prince, and was
victualled for the voyage to Spain ; but the King,
with characteristic calculation, expected that the
"King of Spain, who se magnificently feasted
the Prince, would surely give the ships fresh
victuals for their homeward journey," which
action, however, seems never to have occurred to
his Spanish Majesty.*" Lord Carey, chamberlain
to the Prince, received a commission te execute
martial law, during the voyage te Spain, ovtr the
Prince's household, but his powers were net to;
extend te the captains or to the crew, nor to be,
exercised tiU the vessel was out at sea. No sad:i
apprehensions were, however, to be allowed during
Charles's absence; "where phUosophy fails,"
" State Paper Office, vol. cxliii.. No. 41.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 367
wrote Sir Thomas Edmondes,*' " faith must beo'In."
AU things had been prepared for the Infanta's
departure from her native country, and June was
the latest month stated for her arrival in this, but
stUl the Earl of Bristol, whilst protesting that
the Spaniards would be the most perfidious
wretches alive if they did net restore the Palati
nate, fer " they say that they would rather throw
the Infanta inte the sea, than marry her to our
Prince, when his sister and her children are de
prived of their patrimony," stiU, he feared there
was " mischief brewing " about the Electorship.
Meantime, aU was gay, aU was gracious, at Mad
rid. According to a more detaUed account than
their own, the Prince and Buckingham rode into
that city about eight o'clock In the evening ef the
seventh ef March, attended by a postilion only,
having previously ridden post three days; they
alighted at the house of the Earl of Bristol, Buck
ingham entering first, vrith a portmanteau under
his arm, announcing himself as " Mr. Thomas
Smith;" then "Mr. John Smith" (the Prince),
was sent for ; he had remained standing en the
other side of the street. Lord Bristol, in amaze
ment, took the prince to his bedroom, where
Charles caUed for pen and ink, and despatched a
letter to England, to inform His Majesty how,
" From London. March 18.

368 LIFE AND TIMES OP
after a journey of sixteen days, he had reached
Madrid In safety. The next day, Endymion Porter
and Sir Francis Cottington, who had been pur
posely left half a day's journey behind, came
also ; and it was soon rumoured that some great
man was come from England, and reports
were even circulated that it was the King.*^
The Cond6 de Gondomar was, however, soon
apprised of the truth. He hastened to present
himself to the Prince, and, faUIng fiat en his face,
the artful Spaniard exclaimed "Nunc dimittis!"
as if the climax of human felicity had come te
pass. The next day was Sunday, and, since the
ferms of the Spanish Court did not admit of an
immediate presentation, it was agreed that the
first meeting should take place by a kind of
premeditated chance, se to speak — the Prince
retaining his disguise. Charles, vrith the ardour
of a young and romantic man, had entreated
Gondomar te procure him an immediate " sight ef
the Infanta," which the Cond^ promised to de;
reminding the Prince that it was Lent, which
was, of course, an obstacle to a pubUc reception.
The King afterwards promised Charles that
though It were Lent, It should net be " Lent to
him ; " and that he should have aU he would, and
« HoweU's Letters, p. 116.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 369
aU that the country should afford." *' In the eve-
ing of Saturday, Buckingham went in a close
coach to Court, where he had a private audience
of King Philip, and also ef the Cond6 OUvares,
who accompanied him back to the Prince, whose
hand he kissed, kneeling, clasping his arms also
round Charles's legs. Endymion Porter was the
interpreter, on this occasion, between the Prince
and OUvares.**
On Sunday afternoon, Charles, for the first
time, saw the young Princess towards whom
he afterwards played so unworthy a part. It
was In the park of Madrid. The Infanta
was seated in the boot of the carriage, vrith
a blue ribbon round her arm, in order that
the Prince might distinguish her. A grand
cortige, composed of the chief nobility of that
proud Court, followed the royal carriages.
Charles, disguised, vrith Buckingham by his side,
Gondomar and Sir Walter Aston being in the
same carriage, went in the Duke de Cea's coach.
It had been settled that no recognition should
take place. The Infanta, as her royal suitor
¦" The account of the Prince's reception in Spain is
chiefly taken from " A True Relation and Journal of the
Arrival and Entertainment given to the High and Mighty
Prince Charles, by the King of Spain.— Printed in
Nichols's Progresses, vol. iii., p. 818.
« HoweU.
VOL. I. B B

370 LIFE AND TIMES OF
passed her, ceuld not conceal her agitation ; the
colour came inte her face ; neither ceuld her
brother and Charles help exchanging salutations,
as they drove repeatedly past each other, both
in the town and Prado. Evening drew en, and
the King and the royal party returned home by
torch-Ught, the effect of which was magnifi
cent. Still, it was theught due to the observance of
Lent, as well as agreeable to etiquette, that
private interviews only should take place, espe
cially before Charles had made his public
entrance. That same evening, therefore, the
King, after many punctUios, in which the seul ef
Spanish honour and politeness was displayed, met
the Prince again in the park, taking him into his
own coach, and placing him at his right hand.
On parting, there was an embarrassing ceremonial
— ^the King insisting on conducting Charles back
to his carriage, Charles not suffering it. So they
parted midway on the road.
Charles's days passed, indeed, in a manner
pecuUarly agreeable to one of his disposition.
On one occasion, having first seen the King ride
threugh the streets on horseback to a monastery
caUed La Merced, where the King had rooms
furnished for occasional residence, he went after
wards to take the air by the fields on the river's

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 371
side ; another day, he repaired to the palace, and
was conducted by OUvares through the back
way. "Your babie," Buckingham vn-ote to the
King, " desired to kiss his (the King's) hands pri-
vatelle in the pallace, which was granted him, and
thus performed. First, the King woiUd not
suffer him te come to his chamber, but met him
at the stare-foote ; then entered In the coch, and
walked Into the parke. The greatest matter
that passed between us at that time was com
plements and particular questions ef all our
journaie ; then, by force, he would needs convaie
him half way heme ; in doing which they were
almost overthrone in brick pits." *'
Many were the resources to which Charles
turned for relaxation during this interval ef
expectation. His mornings were spent in his
private affairs, among which we may reckon the
cultivation of his taste for pictures ; in the after
noon, accompanied by his beloved Steenie, he
went forth inte the fields, where Bristol attended
on him vrith his hawks ; er he visited a country
house ef the King's, called Caso del Campo,
where, meeting PhiUp and his brothers, Don
Carlos and Don Fernando the Cardinal, they
diverted themselves by watching "men placed
there te shoot at such kinds of game as were
« Note from Harl. MSS., 6987.— Nichols, p. 823.
bb2

372 LIFE AND TIMES OF
found in the place ; " hares were started, par
tridges sprang up, and other fowl, all of which
were killed, after the custom of that day,
as they went running or flying by the
marksmen. Sometimes the King, vrith the old
Spanish courtesy, sent the Prince two horses,
desiring him to choose the best for himself, and to
leave him the worst to ride out on ; then Charles
would order the steeds to be exercised In a
garden near the Earl of Bristol's house, and, not
'to be outdone in politeness, he would himself try
them both, and send the best back for the King's
use. At length the day arrived when Charles made
his solemn entry into Madrid, under circum
stances of interest which almost superseded even
the Imposing magnificence of the ceremonial. On
the sixteenth of March, he received the Inquisitor
General, and aU the different Councils of the
kingdom — the Corregidores and the Regideres of
Madrid — at the Monastery of San Geremine,
whence the Kings of Spain always make their
public entrance. These pubUc functionaries en
deavoured, on being presented to the Prince, to
kiss his hand, but Charles resisted this demon
stration, considering that it was due enly te the
lawful sovereign of the realm.
The magnificence of the procession that en-

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 373
sued owed much of its picturesque beauty to its
being on horseback As they approached the im
mediate precincts of Madrid — Charles riding on
the right of PhUip — they were met by four and
twenty Legidores ef the town — whose office It
was to carry over the King's head a canopy of
tissue, lined vrith crimson cloth of gold. The
King then took the Prince under the canopy,
StiU keeping him on his right hand ; before them
rode the Ministers of Justice, next the grandees,
sumptuously clad, for it is an old saying, that
no one dresses so plainly every day, nor so gor
geously on occasions, as the Spaniards.*^ Their
picturesque costumes, their grave and stately
bearing, their gallant steeds — so famed through
out Europe — must have made this band of
nobles one ef the fairest spectacles ef the time.
They were appareUed, as the chronicler ex
presses it, " in colours and great bravery," their
servants. In rich Uveries, attending.
After the King and Prince came Buckingham
and OUvares, in their respective offices of Master
of the Horse, each of them with a horse of
state, as the ensign of the place he enjoyed. The
canopy held over these two favourites and minis
ters was afterwards presented to Buckingham, as
weU as all other fees belonging to the Master of
*^ HoweU's Letters.

374 LIFE AND TIMES OP
the Horse — because he served that day the Prince
in whese honour the procession took place. Then
came Lord Bristol, Sir Walter Aston, and the
^Council of State, with the gentlemen of the
King's bedchamber ; and a part of that "goodly
guard," called " de los archeres, bravely clad and
arrayed." This unrivaUed precession passed along through
streets hung here and there with rich draperies,
or adorned with curious pictures, and " sprin
kled" with scaffoldings, on which stood the
chief magistrates of Madrid; in some streets, also,
there were dancers, comedians, and musicians, to
amuse the royal pair as they rode gracefully on
wards. At length, the King and Charles reached
the palace, where some time was consumed by
ancient ceremonials, each contending for the hind
most place; but, "in fine," writes the chroni
cler, " they went hand-In-hand, or rather, vrith
their arms round each other, untU they came into
the presence of the Queen."
Her Majesty was seated under a cloth of state,
at the extremity of a large room, where the chairs
were placed. This apartment was superbly fur
nished ; but the chief riches, it is said, consisted
in that "living tapestry of ladies, and ef the
chUdren ef noblemen who stood near the walls."
The Queen, not awaiting the approach of Charles,

GBOEGE VILLIEES. 375
went forward to welcome him ; he was then con
ducted to the apartments destined for him, the
Queen herself, with the King, seeing him te the
very doors, where her royal brothers-in-law stood
to receive him. There was then a courteous dis
pute, the Prince wishing to attend His Majesty
hack to his own part of the palace ; PhUip in
sisting that Charles should enly make one step
In that direction. Scarcely an hour had elapsed,
before a great basin of massive geld, carried by
two men, and containing an embroidered night
gown, laid double in it, was brought — a present
from the Queen te Charles; besides which, she
sent him two large trunks, bound In bands of
pure gold, and thickly stuck with gold nails —
with a gold lock and key ; the coverings of the
trunks were of amber leather, whilst their con
tents consisted of curious linens and perfumes.
In addition to these, there was also presented a
rich desk, every drawer of which was full of
rarities; Buckingham, at the same time, receiv
ing a "noble present" frem the Condessa OU
vares. That night the old town was Uluminated
both with torches and fireworks, which were kept
up for eight days.
Such was the commencement of Charles's resi
dence in Spain. It was decreed that he should be
attended only by nobles, and served and addressed

376 LIFE AND TIMES OF
as a King ; The Cond^ de Gondomar and the
Conde de Plueba were to act as Majordemos;
the Cend6 de Monterey, brother-in-law ef OU
vares, was to be his chief Majordomo. The
most deUcate attention of all was, however, the
King's giving two gilt keys te the Prince, re
questing him te present one of them to these of
his attendants whom he most preferred, in order
that the whole of the palace might be open to
him or his retinue. The keys were, ef course,
given to Buckingham and Bristol.
WhUst such deUcate hospitality was being
manifested in Spain, James, at home, was col
lecting all the jewels he could vrith any propriety
send, and seme which he had no right to give
away, to add to the grandeur of Babie and Steenie.
His letter, on this occasion, is most characteristic
ef his infatuation for the Spanish match, and of
his easy conscience on matters connected with
religion.*' He writes thus : —
"Mt Sweete Botes,
" I wrytte neu this sevint (seventh)
letre unto you upon the sevinteent of March,** sent
in my ship caUed the Adventure, te my tue boyes,
" Nichols, 832, note.
" 17th March, 1622-23.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 377
adventurers, quhom God ever blesse ! And now
to beguinne with Him: — A Jove principium — I
have sent you, my babie, two of youre Chaplains,
fitted for this purpose, Mawe and Wrenne, toge
ther vrith aU ornaments and stuffe fit for the service
of God. I have fuUie instructed them In all theyre
behavioure, and theyre service shall, I hoape,
prove decent and agreeable to the puritie of the
Primitive Churche, and yett as near the Romane
forme as can lawfuUie be done, for it hath ever
been my way to goe with the Church of Rome,
usque et aras. AU the particulars hereof I remltte
to the relation of youre before-named chaplens."
The King then mentions that he sent the robes
of the Order of the Garter. " Quhache," he
says, "you must not forgette te wear on St.
George's Day, and dine together in thaime," if
they arrived in time, which he hoped te Ged
would be the case, for it would be " a goodlie
sight for the Spaniards to see my two boyes dine
in thaime."
The King next enumerates the jewels he des
patched : —
"For my babies' presenting his mistresse, I
sende an olde double crosse of Lorraine, not so rich
as anciente, yet not centemtible for the valewe : a
goodly looking-glasse, with my picture In it, te be
hung at her girdle, quhiche ye must tell her ye

378 LIFE AND TIMES OF
have caused it so to be enchawnted by a rile
magike, as, quhensoever she shaU be pleased to
look into it, she shaU see the fairest ladie that
ather her brother's or youre father's dominions can
afforde.*^ Ye shall present her also," James con
tinues, "two faire long dyamonts, sett lyke an
anker, and a faire pendant dyamont hanging at
thaime ; a geedUe roape of pearles," a collar, or
carcanet, of thirteen great baUas rubies, and thir
teen knots or cinques ef pearls ; together vrith a
"head-dressing, and two-and-twentle great pear
pearls; " also, three pear-shaped diamonds, the
largest of which was te be worn " at a needle,"
in the middle of her forehead, and one in each ear.
His " babie," the Bring decreed, was to have his
own round brooch ef diamonds, and he sent also
a famous jewel called the "Three Brethren," con
sisting of a great pointed diamond, with three
great pearls attached te it, and a large pendent
pearl ; also, the " Mirror of France," " the fellowe
of the Portugal Dyamont," which, says the
King, " I would wishe you to weare alone in your
hatte, vrith a little blakke feather. Ye have also,"
he adds, " goode dyamont buttons, of your o\vn,
*' Thus described in the Ust : — '' A looking-glasse set in
goulde, the backside richly garnished with faire dyamondes,
and six peeces of chayne to hange it, garnished with dya
mondes on both sydea."

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 379
to be sett te a doublett or jerkin. As for your
T, it maye serve for a present to a Don." ^^
Steenie was furnished with a fair table dia
mond, which the King wanted to have given him
before, but Buckingham had refused it; te this
a " faire pewre pearl " was now suspended, " fer
wearing," said the thoughtful monarch, more
occupied with these details than with the good of
England, " in thy hatte, or quhaire thow plessis ;
and if my babie wiU spaire thee the two long dya
monts in form of an anker, with the pendant
dyamont. It were fitt for an admiraU to weare, and
he hath enough better jewels for his mistresse."
Then follows a trait of the gentle Marchioness,
quite In keeping with the whole of her character :
" Thow hes of thyne owne thy goode olde jeweU,
thy three pindars dyamonts, the picture-cace I
gave Kate, and the greate dyamont chaine I
gave her, quho wolde have sent thee the best
paire she hadde, if I hadde net stayed her."
Divers other jewels were te be sent with the
fleet for presents, " for saving ef chairges quhair
have too much nede." These were to be presents
to Spanish grandees.
The King then concludes : —
" Thus ye see how, as long as I want the sweete
comfort of my boyes' conversation, I ame forced,
so A jewel in the form of a T.

380 LIFE AND TIMES OF
yea, and delytes, to converse vrith thaime by long
letres. Ged bless you both, my sweete boyes ;
and sende you, after a successful journey, a joyful
and happle returne in the armes of your dear
dad, "James R.
"Dated from Newmarket, on Saint Patrick's
Day, quho of olde was too well patronized in
the cuntrey ye are in."
A few kind and amiable expressions from the
Marchioness ef Buckingham to her husband
reached him too at this time.^' " I thanke
you for sending me se goed nuse of our
younge mistres. I am very glad she is so
delicat a creaturr, and of so sweett a disposicion.
Indeed, my Lady Bristol sent me werd she was a
very fine lady, and as good as fine. I am very
glad of It, and that the Prince Uks her se weU, for
the King ses (says) he Is wonderfully taken with
her. It is a wonderfiiU good hairing, for it were
great pettye but the Prince should have on (ene)
he can love ; because I thinke he'U make a very
honest husband, which is the greatest comfort in
this world, te have man and wife leve truly. I
tould the King of the private message the
Infanta sent te the Prince, te wear a great rouffe
" Nichols, 817, note.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 381
(ruff). He laft heartely, and seed (said) it was a
very good sign."
The Prince and Buckingham adopted a prac
tice of writing joint letters ; for which Charles,
In the next dispatch, apologized. "I hope in
writing jointly as we dee," the Prince wrote,
"we plase you best, for I assure your Majesty
It is not for saving paines."*^ " Te which James
answers : — " I wonder quhy ye shoulde aske me
the question if ye should send me any more jolnte
letters or not. Alace ! sweet hairts, it is all my
comforte In your absence that ye wrytte jolnte
unto me, besides the great ease it is both to me,
and ye neede not doubte but I wUl be wairle
enough in not acquainting my counsel with
any secrete in your letres. But I have been
troubled with Hamilton,^' quho, being presente
by chawnce at my ressaving both of your firste
and seconde paquette out of Madrid, wold needs
peere over my shoulder quhen I was reading
them, ofring ever to help me te reade any harde
words, and, in goed faith, he is in this busynesse,
« Nichols, 835. Note from Harleian MSS., 6987.
" James HamUton, second Marquis of HamUton, in Scot
land, upon whom James had conferred, in 1619, the Earl
dom of Cambridge, a title formerly borne by King Edward
IV., before his accession to the Throne. The Marquis was
Steward of the Royal Household.— Burke's Extinct Peer
age.

382 LIFE AND TIMES OF
as in aU things else, as variable and uncertaine as
the Moone."
A hint frem Charles shewed that he both
feared his father's indiscretion, and also appre
hended opposition from the CouncU. " I beseech
your Majesty," he now wrote, "advyse as little
with your counsel in these busineses as you can."
James, indeed, had the unthankful task ef
extorting, from unwilling hands at home, money
for those abroad.^*
"But, in earnlste, my babie," he afterwards
wrote, " ye must be as spairing as ye can in your
spending thaires, for youres."
Amongst the jewels transmitted to Spain was a
coUar ef gold, weighing thirteen great baUaces,
and thirteen pieces of gold, vrith thirteen links
of pearl between them. This valuable was. In
1606, annexed te the crown of England, or, as It
was stated In the deed, " te the kingdoms ef this
realm." It is evident that James had incurred
seme censure for sending what was not his
own property away, for he seems to have exer
cised greater caution afterwards. The demands
from Spain were, indeed, insatiable. Charles
modestly wrote to his father thus : — ^'
" Sir, — I confess that ye have sent more jewels
'' Nichols, p. 840.
« Ibid, p. 845.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 383
than at my departure I thought to have had use
of; but, since my coming, seeing manie jewels
worne heere, and that my braverie can consist of
nothing else besydes ; — that sume of them which
ye have appointed me to give the Infanta, In
Steenie's epplnlon and myne, ar nott fitt to be
given to her ; therefore I have taken this bould-
ness to intreate your Majesty to send more for
my ewen wearing and for giving to my mistress ;
In which I thinke your Majestie shall not doe
amiss to take CarlUe's ^^ advyce."
This letter was in the Prince's hand-writing.
Buckingham's less humble spirit was shown in
the foUowing postscript, which was in his own hand,
and forms a singular contrast vrith the respectful
tone of that of the Prince on the same topic : —
"I, doge; ye sayes you have manie jewels
neyther fit for your one (own), your sone's, nor
your daughter's "wearing; but verie fitt to bestow
of those here, who must necessariUe have presents,
and this way wiU be least chargeable to your
Majestie in my poore opinione."^*
Three days after, the Duke wrote again In a
stUl more insolent tone ; and gave His Majesty
his "poore and sausie opinion of what would be
fittest to send."
=« The Earl of CarUsle.
" Referring not to EUzabeth of Bohemia, but to the Infanta.
"Nichols, p. 846.

384 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Hitherto, the Marqms said, the King had been
so sparing, that when he thought to have sent the
Prince sufficient for his own use, and for presents
te the Infanta, and to lend to himself, he, on the
contrary, had been forced te lend jewels to the
Prlnce.^^ " You neede not aske," Buckingham continued,
" who made me able to do It. Sir, he hath nei
ther chaine nor hat-band, and I beseech you con
sider how rich they are in Jewells here. Then
what a poore equipage he came in, hew he hath
no other meanes to appear as a King's sonne,
how they are usefuUest at such a tyme as this,
when they may doe yourselfe, your sonne, and
the nation's honor : and lastUe, how it wiU ney
ther caust nor hasard you anie thinge. These
resons, I hope, since you have ventured aUreadie
your chiefest jewel, your sonne, will serve to per
suade you to let louse theese mere after him :
first, your best hat-band ; the PortingaU diamond ;
the rest of the pendant diamonds td make up a
necklace to give his mistress ; and the best roape
ef pearls, vrith a rich chaine or tow, for him-
selfe to waire, er else your doge must want a
collar,'''' which is the readie way to put him into
it. There are manie ether Jewells which are
"Nichols, vol. ii., p. 847, dated March 25, 1623.
«» AUuding to having lent the Prince his own jewels.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 385
of no mean qualitie, as_ they deserve not that
name, but will save much in your purs, and serve
very well for presents. They had never so good
and great an occasion to take the aire out of their
boxes as at this time. God knowes when they
shall have such another, and they had need seme-
times to get near the sonne, to continue them in
there perfection.
"Madrid, 25th of Aprill, 1623."
In a postscript, Buckingham announced that
he had sent the King four asses, five camels,
and one elephant, "which," he adds, "is worth
your seeing, and a Barbaric horse from Walter
Aston." The animals Buckingham sent he had
" Imprudentlie begged for : " and he promised
"te lay waitte idr all the rare color birds" that
could be heard of. "But If you dee not send
your Babie Jewells enough," thus his letter con
cludes, " Ue stope all other presents ; therefore,
looke to It."
The King, taking this impertinence as a jeke,
thanked his " sweet Steenie gossip" for his " kind,
droUIng letter," and suggested that should Babie
not think It fit to present all the jewels te the In
fanta, they should be brought home again ; and
ventured to propose also that with regard te a
present to the Conde OUvares, horses, dogs and
hawks, and such lUse stuff sent out of England,
VOL. I. C c

386 LIFE AND TIMES OF
" by the sweete boyes, would be a far more ac
ceptable present than a jewel." He began, per
haps, to feel some remorse at his lavish folly.
Prince Henry's sword — which another father
would have valued, independently of the costly
diamonds vrith which the handle was set — had
been given to the King of Spain. It was consi
dered next in value to the Prince's crown, and be
stowed on Prince Henry by his royal mother at his
creation as Prince of Wales ; and had been sent
in a masque, in the fanciful fashion of the day, as
frem Tethys to one of the Meliades.®' AU these
jewels were, however, honourably retumed during
the year the Spanish match was broken off.^^
After the important matter of the jewels had
been discussed, Charles received from his father a
few lines, protesting, on the werd ef a King, that
whatsoever his son should promise in his name
should be punctuaUy performed. Charles had
asked fer something explicit under His Majesty's
own hand,^^ te shew that he had fuU powers ; the
request was presumptuous, but Charles, who wrote
it, and Buckingham, who advised it, knew to
whom they applied. " It were a strange trust,"
the King answered, " that I weld refuse to putte
«' Nichols, 848. Note from Archseologia, vol. xv. p. 18.
" Ibid, 249.
" Ibid, 857.

GEOEGE VaLLIEES. 387
upon my owne son, and upen my best ser-
vante." This servant he was now resolved to honour
above all other great ones ef the land, by creat
ing him a Duke. Buckingham had probably been
desirous of obtaining this honour ever since his
being created Marquis, and had been employing
every means of compassing his ends, by the aid of
his dependents and partisans at heme. Through
the exertions ef Secretary Conway, he had been
addressed as " your ExceUency." Since that dls-
tinctionis only appUed to ambassadors, it is possible
that Bristol may have considered it an infringe
ment en his province to give it to Buckingham.
It was, however, ene of Buckingham's most
cherished objects of ambition to assert a pre-emi
nence over Bristol at the Court of Spain.
There was, at this time, no EngUsh dukedom ;
that of York having merged Inte the title of
Prince of Wales. The Duke of Lennox, the
King's near relation, was the enly Scottish noble
man who bore the title ; and he had, for forty
years, held this distinction. In erder te avoid
placing the new duke above this nobleman,
Lennox was created Earl of Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
and Duke of Richmond, en the seventeenth of
May, and Buckingham was raised to the duke
dom on the eighteenth. It was at the same
cc2

388 LIFE AND TIMES OF
time in contemplation to create two more Dukes ;
the Marquis ef Hamilton was to be Duke of
Cambridge ; the Earl of Arundel, Duke of Nor
folk, that nobleman refusing anything less than
the restitution of that title. These creations did
not take place, partly ovring to the pride ef
the Duchess ef Lennox, who wished to stand
alone, and partly to that of Buckingham, whose
letter to the King, en this occasion, shows his
great ambition, and proves his audacity and In
fluence. It had been at first proposed to make him Duke
of Buckingham and Clarence, thus reviving in
his person a title used hitherto only by the
Princes of the blood.
" Deae Dad and Gossope,"^*
" It cannot but have bine an in
finite trouble to have written so longe a letter,
and so sone, especialUe at this painfuU time of
your armes ; yet wish I not a word enutted,
though the reading forsed blouses (blushes), de
serving them no better ; neyther is It fitt I
should dissemble with my master, wherefore I
confess I am not a gott (jot) serie for the paines
you have taken. This might argue I love my-
" Harl. MSS., 6987. In Buckingham's own Autograph,
quoted by Nichols, note, p. 854.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 389
selfe better than my master : but my disobedience
in all my future actions shaU witnes the contrarie ;
and I can trulle say It is not in the power of your
large bountiful hand and hart, ever hereafter,
eyther te increase my dutie and love to you, or to
overvalue myselfe as you doe by thinking it fitt I
should be set so farre above my feUows. There is
this difference betwixt that noble hand and hart :
one may surfitt by the one, but not by the other,
and soner by yours than his one (own). There
fore give me leave to stope with mine that hand
which hath bine but too redle to execute the mo
tions and affections ef that kind obliging hart
to me. As fer that argument, that this can be
ne leading case to others, give me leave to say
It's trew onele in ene (but that's a greate and
the maine) poynt, fer I grant that I am more
than confident you vrill never leve moree of
your servants (I wiU pausie here) better than
Steenie. "Thus it wUl be no leadeing, but you can
not denie but it may be a president ef emu
lation hereafter te these that shall succeed you,
to expres as much love as you have done to
me, and I am sure they may easelie find better
subjects. Se, if It be unfit in respect of the
number (of Dukes that may be created), this way
it wUl be increased ; but I mayntaine it's unfitt

390 LIFE AND TIMES OP
in respect there is not here (in Spain), as in other
places, a distinction between Duckes' and Kings'
children, and before I make a gape or a stepe to
that paritie between them, I'le disobey you — which
is the most I can say or doe. I have not se
much unthankfulness te denie what your Majesty
sayeth, that my former excus of the dispropor
tion of my estate is taken away, for you have
filled a consuming purse, given me faire bowses,
more land than I am worthie, and to maintain
both me and them, filled my coffers as fuU vrith
patents of boner that my shoulders cannot bare
more. This, I say, is a stUl great argument for
me to refuse; but have not bine contented to
rest here, when I thought you had done more
than enough, and as much as you could ; but hath
found eut a way which, to my heart's satisfaction,
is far above aU, fer with this letter you have
furnished and enriched my cabinett vrith so pre
cious a witnes ef your valuation of me, as in
future tymes it cannot be sayde that I rise, as
mest courtiers doe, through importunitie, for
which caracter of me, and incomparable favor
from, I wUl sine (sign) with as contented, nay, as
proud a hart, from your poare Steenie, as Duke of
Buckingham." Meantime, festivities were carried on in Spain
which rivalled the mest brilliant spectacles wit-

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 391
nessed In that age ef pageantry, during which chi
valric manners and chivalric sports were fer the
last time seen In England, since they were never
revived after the Rebellion.
On Easter Sunday a masque was performed in
honour of the strangers. The Queen, clad in
white, in remembrance of the Resurrection, and
decked in jewels, dined In public, first having
duly observed the solemn religious services of the
festival. Prince Charles also dined in public ; the gen
tlemen-tasters, it is especially noted, attended,
and the Earl of Bristol gave them the towel.
After vespers, the Court assembled, and the pal
ace was thronged with strangers from the various
provinces, aU eager to see the "wooer." Charles was
then In the full vigour of his youth ; he Is de
picted by Velasquez, at or about this period, as
possessing that bloom which care so early de
stroys ; his face was ever rather interesting and
picturesque than handsome ; but it may easUy
be imagined how, set bff by the charm of man
ner, the graces of his person may have been
exaggerated by those who now welcomed him
as a suitor to the young princess. He had, on
this occasion, adopted, for the first time, the
Spanish national costume, and was In a black dress,
" richly garded," after the Spanish faslnon, with

392 LIFE AND TIMES OP
the George about his neck, hanging by a watchet
ribbon. "The enamelled garter," so states the
Spanish chroniclers, " exceeded that colour " (the
watchet) "in brightness, and his Majesty might
as clearly be discerned as a sun amid the stars.
This being not the meanest action and demon
stration of his prudence, that being a traveUing
guest, who came by the post, not being able to
shine with equal lustre, he came to participate of
the Spanish sun." ^^
From this observation it appears that the jewels
promised by James had not then arrived. The
Prince must, therefore, have acted as a contrast,
though not a f oU, te King Philip, who was resplen
dent in a dress of ash colour, with an Immense
Golden Fleece, and a huge chain, baudrick-wise,
around his neck, "robbing," as the annalist declared,
in his girdle, and ether jewels, the "glory of Phoebus'
beams ; " In his hat he displayed a large waving
plume. Then came Buckingham, whom the chroni
clers of the day style the Admiral, and OUvares,
and they repaired to the Queen's apartments,
where the Infanta, with her Majesty, came out te
receive them. At the Interview which then took
" Narrative of Andres of Mendoza. This tract was en
tered at Stationer's HaU, July 5, 1623. There is a copy
in the British Museum, and also in the Bodleian Library.
Only two others are known. — Nichols, 856.

GEOEGE VILLIERS. 393
place. Sir Walter Aston acted as interpreter ; in
that capacity he wished the Queen a happy
Easter ; the young and blushing Infanta, standing
by, received these compUments, which were pre
sumed to come direct from Charles, with a mod
esty and gravity far beyond her years. Then
their Majesties went to the window of the south
gaUery to see the trial of arms in the Court of
the Palace.
The whole beauty, rank, and splendour of Spain
were assembled in this gaUery, but none were
more remarkable for grace, and for the knowledge
of the Court, than the Condessa OUvares — whose
name was afterwards coupled with Buckingham's
in scandalous terms. She is expressively said te
have given " a Ufe to aU actions of greatness and
courtship. She was enly exceeded in address by
her husband, between whom and Buckingham a
coolness soon afterwards commenced. A trial of
arms, the champions and their attendants being
masked, then took place, beginning from the house
occupied by Buckingham, near the Royal Hospi
tal of Misericordia, and extending to the palace,
upen which were set the cartels of chaUenge,
to which the Marquis de Alcanizas, on the part
of the Spaniards, and Buckingham, on that of the
English, were respondents.
Buckinghams's " livery," on this occasion, was

394 LIFE AND TIMES OP
very costly. It consisted of hoods of orange,
tawny, and sUver cloth, set vrith flowers and
Romaine devices of black cloth, edged with sUver
in circles, with turbans in Moorish fashion, and
white plumes. Two courses were run in the palace-
court, the chief masker being the flattered favourite
of King James. Amid the gallant throng, four
maskers. In Turkish costume, attracted especial
notice. One of them was discovered, by the bright
ness of his hair, and his stateliness in running at
the ring, te be the King, who thus testified the
honour he wished to pay to Buckingham by join
ing in the same spert.*^
The Bull-fight, or Panaderia, foUowed the trial
of arms, and took place during Pentecost. This
cruel diversion had been repeatedly prohibited
by Papal buUs, but to no purpose. Se common
was it to have several men killed during a buU-
fight, that priests were always en the spot, ready
te confess the dying ; and according to HoweU,
who was present on this occasion, it was not
unusual to see a man dangUng on each horn ef
the bull, with his entrails hanging from him.^'
The buU-fight at which Charles and Bucking
ham were present, was held en the first ef June ;
and scarcely had the day dawned, when a con-
« Nichols, p. 864.
«' HoweU's Letters.

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 395
course of nobUity rushed to the Panaderia or
BuUangerie, as It is called In the old chronicle ;
where, in the centre of a space encircled by
twelve arches of unpolished stone, a gilded scaf
folding was erected, the lower part of which was
covered vrith cloth ef gold and silver, mingled
with crimson. On either side were smaller
scaffoldings, divided from the principal one by
partitions of crimson cloth, spotted with gold.
This erection had only been once used, when the
Due de Maine had visited Madrid for the es
pousals, by proxy, with Anne of Austria. On the
left hand there was a portal by which persons
seated on the scaffolding might go In and out of
the scaffolding ; and on the summit of aU were
two canopies ef Florence cloth, of carnation-
colour, interspersed with gold rays, with chairs of
cloth of gold and silver underneath them, and
hung vrith rich tapestry. On these various
stages stood the nobUity of Spain and the CouncU;
whilst, beneath the canopy, their Majesties were
seated, the Pope's Nuncio standing on the right
hand, and the several ambassadors on the left.
The Corregidores of Madrid, with their eight
servants and four lacqueys, in " glorious liveries "
of plain black velvet, with embroidered skirts,
cloaks of black cloth, and doublets of black lace,
and feathers of a colour " which aU the place ad-

396 LIFE AND TIMES OF
mired and wondered at," received the Council, —
"that high senate," so writes the chronicler, entering
vrith a wonderful majesty, and so taking their places.
AU the ladies of the Court, the nobility and
Council and Corregidores, being placed according
to degree, the Queen and the Infanta made their
appearance, driving to the Panaderia in their
coaches. These two Princesses were dressed in
dark grey, embroidered with lentils of gold, and
wore plumes and jewels in their hair. The
Queen's carroche, as it was caUed in the old lan
guage of the day, was foUowed by numerous other
coaches. In which sat the flower of the Court, aU
ladies of the highest rank, who, how sombre
soever the fashion of their dresses, displayed In
their equipages the gayest colours, according well
with the rich hues which nature, at that season,
produced. This procession was escorted by the
Alcaldes en horseback, whose troop was aug
mented by a number of EngUsh and Spanish
knights, officers, and grandees. As the Queen
and Infanta alighted, they were conducted by
the captain of the guard, clad "in a brave livery of
dark yeUow," and wearing a plume, to their seats.
Amid the escort who did honeur to the Queen
that day, appeared mest conspicuously the then
gay and sanguine Charles the First, in the brief
may-day of his life. He rode on a parti-coloured

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 397
horse, curbed vrith no bit, which seemed, beneath
its royal burden, to have laid aside its high
spirit, and to submit to the skilful management
of the young equestrian. The Prince, It is
specified, looked "relucent in black and white
plumes ;" he accompanied the King, mounted on a
dapple grey, also without the bit. Philip wore
the dark-coloured suit of his country. Then
came Buckingham, with the Conde OUvares, the
Master of the Horse, preceding the band of
English gentry, and riding with the CouncU of
State and Chamber of Spain.
Having taken their appointed seats, Charles
and his countrymen beheld, first, fifty lacqueys In
high-Dutch costume of cloth of silver, with caps
of wrought silver, foUow the Duke de Cea, into
the enclosure. Behind the Duke rode the com
batants, distinguished by great tawny plumes,
and hose of tawny cloth, laced with sUver.
They were scrupulously aUke. Scarcely had this
gallant Spanish noble paid his homage to the
royal personages present than the Duke de
Maqueda, looking, says the enthusiastic chron
icler, " like one of the Roman Csesars," and fol
lowed by many noblemen, attended by a hundred
lacqueys in dark-coloured serge, banded with
lace, and relieved vrith sUver belts and white
garters, rode gaUantly Into the palace.

398 LIFE AND TIMES OF
Next appeared the Conde de VlUamor, with
his fifty lacqueys in white printed satin, with
doublets ef azure, silk, and gold, set out with
tufts of gold and sUver lace, with white plumes
on their hats ; and amid this gorgeous throng, on
a chestnut horse, rode the Conde, his horse's main
and tail being drawn out with sUver tvrist, " sur
passing even the horses of Phcebus' chariot."
Such was the waving of feathers, that it was, says
the beholder, like " a moving garden, or an army
of Indians."
And now came the two combatants — Gavlria
and Bonifaz; er, as they were caUed, KlU-buUs.
They, too, had their lacqueys — Bonifaz in white
plumes, whilst those of Gaviria were distinguished
by dark green suits. Lastly, appeared the
Cavalier de la MorziUa, who came to "try his
fortune vrith lance and target."
Although by right the office ef Marshal,
on this occasion, belonged te the Cond6
OUvares, it was surrendered te Buckino-ham,
Charles giving precedence to his favourite ; so
that it was the proud office of the once lowly
Villiers to appear chief in the court of Spain, as
he had often done In that of England. He stood,
therefore, behind the Infanta, Don Carles, and by
the side of OUvares, who acted not only as an
adviser, but also as interpreter — the Duke, it

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 399
seems, having never acquired Spanish. The
part thus allotted te OUvares, though a subor
dinate one, was performed with due punctUio
and courtesy; and as one sensible of the honour
which James had done him in the " letters, full ef
wisdom and gravity," vrith which he had honoured
him. Then the lacqueys drew back, and looking in
their blue and red colours like a harvest in
June blovm about by the breeze, left their lords
te the perilous encounter. The buU-fight wit
nessed by Charles and Buckingham differed little
from that stUl unhappUy the chief delight of the
Spaniards in our own times, except that, to pay
the more refined tribute te the Prince and his
favourite, the combatants were of high rank. As
the Cond6 de Villamor, te whom the first en
counter was aUotted, rode to the assault, his
retainers showered darts on the bull ; whose hide
resembled, according te the flowery narrative of
Mendoza, a quiver, er recaUed " the thorny hedges
of Helvetia;" but the bystanders, seeing the
poor animal's agonies, took out the arrows with
great velocity, although, in so doing, they were in
imminent danger of their Uves. De Magueda
signalised himself by many brave attempts ; but
it was the glory of a combatant named Cantil-
lana that he kiUed a buU. Bonifaz and

400 LIFE AND TIMES OP
Gaviria made such desperate attacks on the
poor animals, that their assaults could not
be counted; but the greatest praise was due
to De Velada; who overthrew two or three
bulls by " dint of sword and gore of lance," but,
having wounded one of these Infuriated creatures
between the eyes, ran so great a risk that the
King would not suffer him to enter a second time
into the lists. Numerous, indeed, were the feats
that might incite to poetry, or to song, had not
the conflict been of so cruel and se debasing a
nature ; se that the valour which was so largely
displayed might even be said to verge upon
brutality. Mendoza enumerates them with a
savage enthusiasm. Amid the most successful of
the buU-klUers appeared the famous Montezuma,
who did credit to his royal blood and established
bravery by putting a bull te flight, the animal
having unaccountably showed signs of fear ; he
was pursued by Montezuma, and, struck by a
cleaving blow of the sword, was left for dead.
As the fight drew near its close, Antonio Gamlo,
the Duke de Cea's second, made ene of the
bravest assaults of the day upon a furious buU,
upen which he rushed, leaving half of his lance
within him, whilst cries of deUght and shouts of
exultation rang through the air, and the buU feU
down dead by the side ofthe fearless combatant;

GEOEGE VILLIEES. 401
the horse stood perfectly stiU, shovring to what a
degree of perfection management had brought
the courser ; so Intrepid when urged onward, so
docUe when occasion required.
The bull-fight being ended, the Queen and In
fanta retumed, beneath a shower ef rain, which
surprised them in that season, te the palace, where
they sought repose after the exciting scenes. In
which even the young and gentle Infanta took a
delight apparently inconsistent with her cha
racter. Nothing, indeed, can exceed the rap
tures ef Andres de Mendoza, from whose ani
mated pages this narrative Is drawn. " Since the
report is Festival," he says, referring to his own
exaggerated descriptions, " it is but Uke to that
which was te be seen vrith the eye. You would
have said as much if you had but seen them
fight with those fiirious beasts, showing them
selves the more vaUant, In that they were un-
. daunted and resolved Spaniards." ^*
" Narrative of Andres de Mendoza, Nichols, p. 869.

END OF VOL I.

K. BOEN, PKINTEE, GLOUCESTEK STKEET, KEGENT'S PAKE.

ERRATA.

VOL. I.
Page 12, Unes 5 and 16 — -for Brokesby read Brookesby.
„ 13, „ 1 — for Brokesby, read Brookesby.
„ 43, „ 21— -/or Lord de Ross, read Lord de Roos.
„ 87, — note — for Endysmoir Porter, read Endymion
Porter.
„ 92, line &—for Abbo, read Abbot.
„ 97, delete first line.
,, 108, Une 6 — -for favours read favour.
„ 155, „ 17 — -for King James's room ; though, read
King James's room, where.
„ 163, „ 13— /or pours out of contention, reod comes
out of contention.
„ 172, „ 18^br a young lady of the seven, read a
young lady of the seventeenth
century.
„ 186, „ 27— for of his succession, read of his suc
cessor.

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY