Many were of opinion, that Kinge James before his death, grew weary of his Favorite, and that if he had lyved, he would have deprived him at least of his large and unlimited power; and this imagination praevayled with some men, as the L'd Keeper Lincolne, the Earle of Middlesex, L'd High Treasurer of England, and other gentlemen of name, though not in so high stations, that they had the courage, to withdraw from ther absolute dependance upon the Duke, and to make some other assayes, which prooved to the ruine of every on of them, ther appearinge no markes or evidence, that the Kinge did really lessen his affection to him, to the houre of his death; on the contrary, as he created him Duke of Buckingham, in his absence, whilst he was with the Prince in Spayne, so after his returne, he exequted the same authority in conferringe all favours and graces, and revenginge himselfe upon those who had manifested any unkindnesse towards him: And yett notwithstandinge all this, if that Kings nature had aequally disposed him, to pull downe, as to builde and erecte, and if his courage and severity in punishinge and reforminge had bene as greate, as his generosity and inclination was to obliege, it is not to be doubted, but that he would have withdrawne his affection from the Duke intirely before his death, which those persons who were admitted to any privacy with [him], and were not in the confidence of the other (for before those he knew well how to dissemble) had reason enough to exspecte....

* * * * *

This greate man was a person of a noble nature and generous disposition, and of such other indowments, as made him very capable of beinge a greate favorite to a greate Kinge; he understoode the Arts and artifices of a Courte, and all the learninge that is professed ther, exactly well; by longe practice in businesse, under a Master that discourced excellently, and surely knew all things wounderfully, and tooke much delight in indoctrinatinge his younge unexsperienced Favorite, who he knew would be alwayes looked upon as the workemanshipp of his owne handes, he had obtayned a quicke conception and apprehension of businesse, and had the habitt of speakinge very gracefully, and pertinently. He was of a most flowinge courtesy and affability to all men, who made any addresse to him, and so desyrous to obliege them, that he did not enough consider the valew of the obligation, or the meritt of the person he chose to obliege, from which much of his misfortune resulted. He was of a courage not to be daunted, which was manifested in all his actions, and his contests with particular persons of the greatest reputation, and especially in his whole demeanour at the Isle of Rees, both at the landinge and upon the retriete, in both which no man was more fearelesse, or more ready to expose himselfe to the brightest daungers. His kindnesse and affection to his frends was so vehement, that it was so many marriages, for better and worse, and so many leagues offensive and defensive, as if he thought himselfe oblieged to love all his frends, and to make warr upon all they were angry with, let the cause be what it would. And it cannot be denyed, that he was an enimy in the same excesse, and prosequted those he looked upon as his enimyes, with the utmost rigour and animosity, and was not easily induced to a reconciliation; and yett ther were some examples of his receadinge in that particular; and in highest passyon, he was so farr from stoopinge to any dissimulation, wherby his displeasure might be concealed and covered, till he had attayned his revenge, the low methode of Courts, that he never indeavoured to do any man an ill office, before he first told him what he was to exspecte from him, and reproched him with the injures he had done, with so much generosity, that the person found it in his pouer, to receave farther satisfaction in the way he would chuse for himselfe....

His single misfortune was (which indeede was productive of many greater) that he never made a noble and a worthy frendshipp with a man so neere his aequall, that he would frankely advize him, for his honour and true interest, against the current, or rather the torrent of his impetuous passyons: which was partly the vice of the tyme, when the Courte was not replenished with greate choyce of excellent men, and partly the vice of the persons, who were most worthy to be applyed to, and looked upon his youth, and his obscurity, as obligations upon him, to gayne ther frendshipps by extraordinary application; then his ascent was so quicke, that it seemed rather a flight, then a growth, and he was such a darlinge of fortune, that he was at the topp, before he was seene at the bottome, for the gradation of his titles, was the effecte, not cause of his first promotion, and as if he had bene borne a favorite, he was supreme the first moneth he came to courte, and it was wante of confidence, not of creditt, that he had not all at first, which he obtayned afterwards, never meetinge with the least obstruction, from his settinge out, till he was as greate as he could be, so that he wanted dependants, before he thought he could wante coadjutors; nor was he very fortunate in the election of those dependants, very few of his servants havinge bene ever qualifyed enough to assiste or advize him, and were intente only upon growinge rich under [him], not upon ther masters growinge good as well as greate, insomuch as he was throughout his fortune, a much wiser man, then any servant or frende he had: Lett the faulte or misfortune be what and whence it will, it may very reasonably be believed that if he had bene blessed with one faythfull frende, who had bene qualifyed with wisdome and integrity, that greate person would have committed as few faults, and done as transcendant worthy actions, as any man who shyned in such a sphere in that age, in Europe, for he was of an excellent nature, and of a capacity very capable of advice and councell; he was in his nature just and candid, liberall, generous, and bountifull, nor was it ever knowne that the temptation of money swayed him to do an unjust, or unkinde thinge, and though he left a very greate inheritance to his heyres, consideringe the vast fortune he inherited by his wife (the sole daughter and Heyre of Francis Earle of Rutlande,) he owed no parte of it to his owne industry or sollicitation, but to the impatient humour of two kings his masters, who would make his fortune aequall to his titles, and the one above other men, as the other was, and he considered it no otherwise then as thers, and left it at his death ingaged for the crowne, almost to the valew of it, as is touched upon before. If he had an immoderate ambition, with which he was charged, and is a weede (if it be a weede) apt to grow in the best soyles, it does not appeare that it was in his nature, or that he brought it with him to the Courte, but rather founde it ther, and was a garment necessary for that ayre; nor was it more in his power to be without promotion, and titles, and wealth, then for a healthy man to sitt in the sunn, in the brightest dogge dayes, and remayne without any warmth: he needed no ambition who was so seated in the hartes of two such masters.



4.

SIR THOMAS COVENTRY.

Solicitor-General 1617. Attorney-General 1621. Lord Keeper 1625. Created Baron Coventry 1628. Born 1578. Died 1640.

By CLARENDON.

S'r Thomas Coventry was then L'd Keeper of the Greate Seale of England, and newly made a Barron. He was a Sunn of the Robe, his father havinge bene a Judge in the courte of the Common pleas, who tooke greate care to breede his Sunn, though his first borne, in the Study of the common law, by which himselfe had bene promoted to that degree, and in which, in the society of the Inner Temple, his Sunn made a notable progresse, by an early eminence in practice and learninge, insomuch as he was Recorder of London, Sollicitor generall, and Kings Atturny before he was forty yeeres of age, a rare ascent, all which offices he discharged, with greate abilityes, and singular reputation of integrity: In the first yeere after the death of Kinge James, he was advanced to be Keeper of the Greate Scale of Englande, the naturall advancement from, the office of Atturny Generall, upon the remoovall of the Bishopp of Lincolne, who though a man of greate witt, and good scholastique learninge, was generally thought so very unaequall to the place that his remoove was the only recompence and satisfaction that could be made for his promotion, and yett it was enough knowne, that the disgrace proceeded only from the pri[v]ate displeasure of the Duke of Buckingham[1]: The L'd Coventry injoyed this place with a universall reputation (and sure justice was never better administred) for the space of aboute sixteen yeeres, even to his death, some months before he was sixty yeeres of age, which was another importante circumstance of his felicity: that greate office beinge so slippery, that no man had dyed in it before, for neere the space of forty yeeres, nor had his successors for some tyme after him much better fortune: and he himselfe had use of all his strenght and skill (as he was an excellent wrastler) to praeserve himselfe from fallinge, in two shockes, the one given him by the Earle of Portlande, L'd High Treasurer of Englande, the other by the Marq's of Hambleton, who had the greatest power over the affections of the Kinge, of any man of that tyme.

He was a man of wounderfull gravity and wisdome, and understood not only the whole science and mistery of the Law, at least aequally with any man who had ever sate in that place, but had a cleere conception of the whole policy of the government both of Church and State, which by the unskilfulnesse of some well meaninge men, justled each the other to much. He knew the temper, and disposition and genius of the kingdome most exactly, saw ther spiritts grow every day more sturdy, and inquisitive, and impatient, and therfore naturally abhorred all innovations, which he foresaw would produce ruinous effects: yett many who stoode at a distance thought that he was not active and stoute enough in the opposinge those innovations, for though by his place he praesided in all publique councells, and was most sharpe sighted in the consequence of things, yett he was seldome knowne to speake in matters of state, which he well knew were for the most parte concluded, before they were brought to that publique agitation, never in forrainge affayres, which the vigour of his judgement could well comprehende, nor indeede freely in any thinge, but what immediately and playnely concerned the justice of the kingdome, and in that as much as he could, he procured references to the Judges. Though in his nature he had not only a firme gravity, but a severity, and even some morosity (which his children and domestiques had evidence enough of) [yet][2] it was so happily tempred, that his courtesy and affability towards all men was so transcended, so much without affectation, that it marvellously reconciled [him] to all men of all degrees, and he was looked upon as an excellent courtyer, without receadinge from the native simplicity of his owne manner. He had in the playne way of speakinge and delivery (without much ornament of eloqution) a strange power of makinge himselfe believed (the only justifiable designe of eloquence) so that though he used very frankely to deny, and would never suffer any man to departe from him, with an opinion that he was inclined to gratify when in truth he was not, (holdinge that dissimulation to be the worst of lyinge) yett the manner of it was so gentle and oblieginge, and his condescension such, to informe the persons, who[m] he could not satisfy, that few departed from him, with ill will and ill wishes; but then this happy temper, and these good facultyes, rather praeserved him from havinge many enimyes, and supplyed him with some well-wishers, then furnished him with any fast and unshaken frends, who are alwayes procured in courtes by more ardour, and more vehement professions and applications, then he would suffer himselfe to be entangled with; so that he was a man rather exceedingly liked, then passionately loved, insomuch that it never appeared, that he had any one frende in the Courte, of quality enough to praevent or diverte any disadvantage he mighte be exposed to, and therfore it is no wonder, nor to be imputed to him, that he retyred within himselfe as much as he could, and stood upon his defence, without makinge desperate sallyes against growinge mischieves, which he knew well he had no power to hinder, and which might probably begin in his owne ruine: to conclude, his security consisted very much, in the little creditt he had with the Kinge, and he dyed in a season most opportune, and in which a wise man would have prayed to have finished his cource, and which in truth crowned his other signall prosperity in this worlde.

[Footnote 1: 'Buckinghman', MS.]

[Footnote 2: 'but', MS.]



5.

SIR RICHARD WESTON.

Chancellor of the Exchequer 1621. Lord Treasurer 1628. Baron Weston 1628, and Earl of Portland 1633.

Born 1577. Died 1635.

By CLARENDON.

S'r Richard Weston had bene advanced to the white staffe, to the office of L'd High Treasurer of England, some moneths before the death of the Duke of Buckingham, and had in that shorte tyme so much disoblieged him, at least disappointed his exspectation, that many who were privy to the Dukes most secrett purposes, did believe that if he had outlived that voyage, in which he was ingaged, he would have remooved him, and made another Treasurer: and it is very true that greate office to had bene very slippery, and not fast to those who had trusted themselves in it, insomuch as there were at that tyme five noble persons alive, who had all succeded on another immediately in that unsteady charge, without any other person interveninge, the Earle of Suffolke, the L'd Viscount Mandevill, afterwards Earle of Manchester, the Earle of Middlesex, and the Earle of Marleborough, who was remooved under praetence of his age, and disability for the work (which had bene a better reason against his promotion, so few yeeres before, that his infirmityes were very little increased) to make roome for the present Officer, who though advanced by the Duke, may properly be sayd to be establish'd by his death.

He was a gentleman of a very good and auncient extraction, by father and mother; his education had bene very good, amongst bookes and men. After some yeeres study of the law in the Middle temple, and at an age fitt to make observations and reflexions, out of which that which is commonly called exsperience is constituted, he travelled into forrainge partes, and was acquainted in forrainge partes;[1] he betooke himselfe to the courte, and lyved ther some yeeres at that distance, and with that awe, as[2] was agreable to the modesty of that age, when men were seene some tyme, before they were knowne, and well knowne before they were praeferred, or durst praetende to be praeferred. He spent the best parte of his fortune, a fayre on, that he inherited from his father, in his attendance at courte, and involved his frends in securityes with him, who were willinge to runn his hopefull fortune, before he receaved the least fruite from it, but the countenance of greate men, and those in authority, the most naturall, and most certayne stayres to ascende by: He was then sent Ambassadour to the Arch-Dukes Alberte and Isabella into Flanders, and to the Diett in Germany, to treate aboute the restitution of the Palatinat, in which negotiation he behaved himselfe with greate prudence, and with the concurrent testimony of a wise man, from all those with whome he treated, Princes and Ambassadours: and upon his returne was made a Privy Councellour, and Chauncelour of the Exchequer, in the place of the L'd Brooke, who was ether perswaded, or putt out of the place, which beinge an office of honour and trust, is likewise an excellent stage for men of parts to tread, and expose themselfes upon, and wher they have occasion of all natures to lay out and spredd all ther facultyes and qualifications most for ther advantage; He behaved himselfe very well in this function, and appeared aequall to it, and carryed himselfe so luckily in Parliament, that he did his master much service, and praeserved himselfe in the good opinion and acceptation of the house, which is a blessinge not indulged to many by those high powers: He did swimme in those troubled and boysterous waters, in which the Duke of Buckingham rode as Admirall, with a good grace, when very many who were aboute him, were drowned or forced on shore, with shrewde hurtes and bruises, which shewed he knew well how and when to use his limbes and strenght to the best advantage, sometimes only to avoyde sinkinge, and sometymes to advance and gett grounde; and by this dexterity he kept his creditt with those who could do him good, and lost it not with others, who desyred the destruction of those upon whome he most depended.

He was made L'd Treasurer in the manner, and at the tyme mentioned before, upon the remoovall of the Earle of Marleborough, and few moneths before the death of the Duke; the former circumstance, which is often attended by compassion towards the degraded, and praejudice toward the promoted, brought him no disadvantage, for besydes the delight that season had in changes, there was little reverence towards the person remooved, and the extreme, visible poverty of the Exchequer sheltered that Provence from the envy it had frequently created, and opened a doore for much applause to be the portion of a wise and provident Minister: For the other of the Dukes death, though some who knew the Dukes passyons and praejudice (which often produced rather suddayne indisposition, then obstinate resolution) believed he would have bene shortly cashiered, as so many had lately bene, and so that the death of his founder, was a greater confirmation of him in the office, then the delivery of the white staffe had bene, many other wise men, who knew the Treasurers talent, in remoovinge praejudice and reconcilinge himselfe to waveringe and doubtfull affections, believed that the losse of the Duke was very unseasonable, and that the awe or apprehension of his power and displeasure, was a very necessary allay for the impetuosity of the new officers nature, which needed some restrainte and checque for some tyme to his immoderate praetences and appetite of power. He did indeede appeare on the suddayne wounderfully elated, and so farr threw off his olde affectation to please some very much, and to displease none, in which arte he had excelled, that in few moneths after the Dukes death, he founde himselfe to succeede him in the publique displeasure, and in the malice of his enimyes, without succeedinge him in his creditt at courte, or in the affection of any considerable dependants; and yett, though he was not superiour to all other men, in the affection, or rather resignation of the Kinge, so that he might dispence favours and disfavours accordinge to his owne election, he had a full share in his masters esteeme, who looked upon him as a wise and able servant and worthy of the trust he reposed in him, and receaved no other advice in the large businesse of his revennue, nor was any man so much his superiour, as to be able to lessen him in the Kings affection, by his power; so that he was in a post in which he might have founde much ease and delight, if he could have contayned himselfe within the verge of his owne Provence, which was large enough, and of such an extente, that he might at the same tyme have drawne a greate dependance upon him of very considerable men, and appeared a very usefull and profitable Minister to the Kinge, whose revennue had bene very loosely managed duringe the late yeeres, and might by industry and order have bene easily improoved, and no man better understoode what methode was necessary towards that good husbandry then he. But I know not by what frowardnesse in his starres, he tooke more paynes in examininge and enquiringe into other mens offices, then in the discharge of his owne, and not so much joy in what he had, as trouble and agony for what he had not. The truth is, he had so vehement a desyre to be the sole favorite, that he had no relish of the power he had, and in that contention he had many ryvalls, who had creditt enough to do him ill offices, though not enough to satisfy ther owne ambition, the Kinge himselfe beinge resolved to hold the raynes in his owne handes, and to putt no further trust in others, then was necessary for the capacity they served in: which resolution in his Majesty was no sooner believed, and the Treasurers prsetence taken notice,[3] then he founde the number of his enimyes exceedingly increased, and others to be lesse eager in the pursuite of his frendshipp; and every day discovered some infirmityes in him, which beinge before knowne to few, and not taken notice,[3] did now expose him both to publique reproch, and to private animosityes, and even his vices admitted those contradictions in them, that he could hardly injoy the pleasante fruite of any of them. That which first exposed him to the publique jealosy, which is alwayes attended with publique reproch, was the concurrent suspicion of his religion. His wife and all his daughters were declared of the Roman religion, and though himselfe and his Sunns sometimes went to church, he was never thought to have zeale for it, and his domestique conversation and dependants, with whome only he used intire freedome, were all knowne Catholiques, and were believed to be agents for the rest; and yett with all this disadvantage to himselfe, he never had reputation and creditt with that party, who were the only people of the kingdome, who did not believe him to be of ther profession, for the penall lawes (those only excepted, which were sanguinary, and even those sometimes lett loose) were never more rigidly executed, nor had the Crovme ever so greate a revennue from them, as in his tyme, nor did they ever pay so deere for the favours and indulgencyes of his office towards them.

No man had greater ambition to make his family greate, or stronger designes to leave a greate fortune to it, yett his exspences were so prodigiously greate, especially in his house, that all the wayes he used for supply, which were all that occurred, could not serve his turne, insomuch that he contracted so greate debts, (the anxiety wherof he praetended broke his minde, and restrayned that intentnesse and industry which was necessary for the dew execution of his office) that the Kinge was pleased twice to pay his debts, at least towards it, to disburse forty thousande pounde in ready mony out of his Exchequer; besydes his Majesty gave him a whole forrest, Chute forrest in Hampshyre, and much other lande belonginge to the Crowne, which was the more taken notice of, and murmured against, because beinge the chiefe Minister of the revennue, he was particularly oblieged as much as in him lay to praevent and even oppose such disinherison; and because under that obligation, he had avowedly and sowrely crossed the praetences of other men, and restrayned the Kings bounty from beinge exercised almost to any; and he had that advantage (if he had made the right use of it) that his creditt was ample enough (secounded by the Kings owne exsperience, and observation, and inclination) to retrench very much of the late unlimited exspences, and especially those of bountyes, which from the death of the Duke, rann in narrow channells, which never so much overflowed as towards himselfe; who stopped the current to other men.

He was of an imperious nature, and nothinge wary in disoblieginge and provokinge other men, and had to much courage in offendinge and incensinge them, but after havinge offended and incensed them, he was of so unhappy a feminine temper that he was always in a terrible fright and apprehension of them. He had not that application, and submissyon and reverence for the Queene as might have bene exspected from his wisdome and breedinge, and often crossed her praetences and desyres, with more rudenesse then was naturall to him; yett he was impertinently sollicitous to know what her Majesty sayd of him in private, and what resentments shee had towards him; and when by some confidents (who had ther ends upon him from those offices) he was informed of some bitter exspressions fallen from her Majesty, he was so exceedingly afflicted and tormented with the sense of it, that sometimes by passionate complaints and representations to the Kinge, sometimes by more dutifull addresses and expostulations with the Queene in bewaylinge his misfortunes, he frequently exposed himselfe, and left his condition worse then it was before: and the eclarcicement commonly ended in the discovery of the persons from whome he had received his most secrett intelligence. He quickly lost the character of a bold, stoute, and magnanimous man, which he had bene longe reputed to be, in worse tymes, and in his most prosperous season, fell under the reproch of beinge a man of bigg lookes, and of a meane and abjecte spiritt....

To conclude, all the honours the Kinge conferred upon him, as he made him a Barren, then an Earle, and Knight of the Gartar, and above this, gave a younge, beautifull Lady, neerely allyed to him and to the Crowne of Scotlande, in marriage to his eldest Sunn, could not make him thinke himselfe greate enough; nor could all the Kings bountyes nor his owne large accessions, rayse a fortune to his Heyre, but after six or eight yeeres spent in outward opulency, and inward murmur and trouble, that it was no greater, after vast summes of mony and greate wealth gotten and rather consumed then injoyed, without any sense or delight in so greate prosperity, with the agony that it was no greater, He dyed unlamented by any, bitterly mentioned by most, who never pretended to love him, and sevearely censured and complayned of, by those who exspected most from him, and deserved best of him, and left a numerous family, which was in a shorte tyme worne out, and yett outlyved the fortune he left behinde him.

[Footnote 1: In the MS. the words 'he travelled into forrainge parts' occur after 'Middle temple', as well as after 'constituted'. The whole sentence is faulty. 'After this' is inserted in the edition of 1702 before 'he betooke'.]

[Footnote 2: 'as' inserted in late hand in MS. in place of 'and'.]

[Footnote 3: 'off' added in later hand in MS.; 'notice of', ll. 2, 6, ed. 1704.]



6.

THE EARL OF ARUNDEL.

Thomas Howard, fourteenth Earl of Arundel.

Born 1586. Died 1646.

By CLARENDON.

The Earle of Arrundell was the next to the officers of State, who in his owne right and quality, praeceded the rest of the councell. He was a man supercilious and prowde, who lyved alwayes within himselfe, and to himselfe, conversinge little with any, who were in common conversation, so that he seemed to lyve as it were in another nation, his house beinge a place, to which all men resorted, who resorted to no other place, strangers, or such who affected to looke like strangers, and dressed themselves accordingly. He resorted sometimes to the Courte, because ther only was a greater man then himselfe, and went thither the seldomer, because ther was a greater man then himselfe. He lived toward all Favorites and greate officers without any kinde of condescention, and rather suffred himselfe to be ill treated by ther power and authority (for he was alwayes in disgrace, and once or twice prysoner in the tower) then to descende in makinge any application to them; and upon these occasyons, he spent a greate intervall of his tyme, in severall journyes into forrainge partes, and with his wife and family had lyved some yeeres in Italy, the humour and manners of which nation he seemed most to like and approve, and affected to imitate. He had a good fortune by descent, and a much greater from his wife, who was the sole daughter upon the matter (for nether of the two Sisters left any issue) of the greate house of Shrewsbury, but his exspences were without any measure, and alwayes exceeded very much his revennue. He was willinge to be thought a scholar, and to understande the most misterious partes of Antiquity, because he made a wounderfull and costly purchase of excellent statues whilst he was in Italy and in Rome (some wherof he could never obtayne permission to remoove from Rome, though he had payd for them) and had a rare collection of the most curious Medalls; wheras in truth he was only able to buy them, never to understande ihem, and as to all partes of learninge he was almost illiterate, and thought no other parte of history considerable, but what related to his owne family, in which no doubt ther had bene some very memorable persons.

It cannot be denyed, that he had in his person, in his aspecte and countenance, the appearance of a greate man, which he preserved in his gate and motion. He wore and affected a habitt very different from that of the tyme, such as men had only beheld in the pictures of the most considerable men, all which drew the eyes of most and the reverence of many towards him, as the image and representative of the primitive nobility, and natife gravity of the nobles, when they had bene most venerable. But this was only his outsyde, his nature and true humour beinge so much disposed to levity, and vulgar delights, which indeede were very despicable and childish: He was never suspected to love anybody, nor to have the least propensity to justice, charity, or compassion, so that, though he gott all he could, and by all the wayes he could, and spent much more then he gott or had, he was never knowne to give any thinge, nor in all his imployments (for he had imployments of greate profitt as well as honour, beinge sent Ambassadour extraordinary into Germany, for the treaty of that Generall peace, for which he had greate appointments, and in which he did nothinge of the least importance, and which is more wounderfull, he was afterwards made Generall of the Army raysed for Scotlande, and receaved full pay as such, and in his owne office of Earle Marshall, more money was drawne from the people by his authority and praetence of jurisdiction, then had ever bene extorted by all the officers praecedent) yett I say in all his offices and imployments, never man used, or imployed by him, ever gott any fortune under him, nor did ever any man acknowledge any obligation to him. He was rather thought to be without religion, then to inclyne to this or that party of any. He would have bene a proper instrument for any tyranny, if he could have a man tyrant enough to have bene advized by him, and had no other affection for the nation or the kingdome, then as he had a greate share in it, in which like the greate Leviathan he might sporte himselfe, from which he withdrew himselfe, as soone as he decerned the repose therof was like to be disturbed, and dyed in Italy, under the same doubtfull character of religion, in which he lyved.



7.

THE EARL OF PEMBROKE.

William Herbert, third Earl of Pembroke.

Born 1580. Died 1630.

By CLARENDON.

Willyam Earle of Pembroke was next, a man of another molde and makinge, and of another fame and reputation with all men, beinge the most universally loved and esteemed, of any man of that age, and havinge a greate office in the courte, made the courte itselfe better esteemed and more reverenced in the country; and as he had a greate number of frends of the best men, so no man had ever wickednesse to avow himselfe to be his enimy. He was a man very well bredd, and of excellent partes, and a gracefull speaker upon any subjecte, havinge a good proportion of learninge, and a ready witt to apply it, and inlarge upon it, of a pleasant and facetious humour and a disposition affable, generous, and magnificent; he was master of a greate fortune from his auncestors, and had a greate addition by his wife (another daughter and heyre of the Earle of Shrewsbury) which he injoyed duringe his life, shee outlivinge him, but all served not his exspence, which was only limited by his greate minde, and occasions to use it nobly; he lyved many yeeres aboute the courte, before in it, and never by it, beinge rather regarded and esteemed by Kinge James then loved and favored, and after the fowle fall of the Earle of Somersett, he was made L'd Chamberlyne of the Kings house more for the Courtes sake, then his owne, and the Courte appeared with the more lustre, because he had the goverment of that Province. As he spente and lived upon his owne fortune, so he stoode upon his owne feete, without any other supporte then of his proper virtue and meritt, and lyved towards the favorites with that decency, as would not suffer them to censure or reproch his Masters judgement and election, but as with men of his owne ranke. He was exceedingly beloved in the Courte, because he never desyred to gett that for himselfe, which others labored for, but was still ready to promote the praetences of worthy men, and he was equally celebrated in the country, for havinge receaved no obligations from the courte, which might corrupt or sway his affections and judgement; so that all who were displeased and unsatisfyed in the courte or with the Courte, were alwayes inclined to putt themselves under his banner, if he would have admitted them, and yett he did not so rejecte them, as to make them choose another shelter, but so farr to depende on him, that he could restrayn them from breakinge out beyounde private resentments, and murmurs. He was a greate lover of his country, and of the religion and justice which he believed could only supporte it, and his frendshipps were only with men of those principles; and as his conversation was most with men of the most pregnant parts and understandinge, so towards any who needed supporte or encouragement, though unknowne, if fayrely recommended to him, he was very liberall; and sure never man was planted in a courte, that was fitter for that soyle, or brought better qualityes with him to purify that heyre.

Yett his memory must not be so flattered, that his virtues and good inclinations may be believed without some allay of vice, and without beinge clowded with greate infirmityes, which he had in to exorbitant a proportion: He indulged to himselfe the pleasures of all kindes, almost in all excesses; whether out of his naturall constitution, or for wante of his domestique content and delight (in which he was most unhappy, for he payed much to deere for his wife's fortune, by takinge her person into the bargayne) he was immoderately given up to women,[1] but therin he likewise retayned such a pouer and jurisdiction over his very appetite, that he was not so much transported with beauty and outwarde allurements, as with those advantages of the minde, as manifested an extraordinary witt, and spirit, and knowledge, and administred greate pleasure in the conversation; to these he sacrificed himselfe, his pretious tyme, and much of his fortune, and some who were neerest his trust and frendshipp, were not without apprehension that his naturall vivacity, and vigour of minde, begann to lessen and decline, by those excessive indulgences. Aboute the tyme of the death of Kinge James or presently after, he was made L'd Steward of his Majestys house, that the Staffe of Chamberlyne might be putt into the hands of his brother, the Earle of Mountgomery, upon a new contracte of frendshipp with the Duke of Buckingham, after whose death he had likewise such offices of his, as he most affected, of honour and commaunde, none of profitt, which he cared not for; and within two yeeres after he dyed himselfe, of an Apoplexy, after a full and cheerefull supper.

[Footnote 1: The words 'to women' occur twice in the MS., before 'whether out' and after 'given up'.]



8.

SIR FRANCIS BACON.

Lord Keeper 1617. Lord Chancellor 1618. Baron Verulam 1618, and Viscount St. Albans 1621.

Born 1561. Died 1626.

By BEN JONSON.

[Sidenote: Dominis Verulanus.]

One, though hee be excellent, and the chiefe, is not to bee imitated alone. For never no Imitator, ever grew up to his Author; likenesse is alwayes on this side Truth: Yet there hapn'd, in my time, one noble Speaker, who was full of gravity in his speaking. His language, (where hee could spare, or passe by a jest) was nobly censorious. No man ever spake more neatly, more presly, more weightily, or suffer'd lesse emptinesse, lesse idlenesse, in what hee utter'd. No member of his speech, but consisted of the owne graces: His hearers could not cough, or looke aside from him, without losse. Hee commanded where hee spoke; and had his Judges angry, and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The feare of every man that heard him, was, lest hee should make an end.



9.

By ARTHUR WILSON.

Not long after comes the great Lord Chancellor Bacon to a Censure, for the most simple, and ridiculous follies, that ever entred into the heart of a Wise man. He was the true Emblem of humane frailty, being more than a man in some things, and less than a woman in others. His crime was Briberie, and Extortion (which the King hinted at in his Speech, when he facetiously sayd, He thought the Lords had bribed the Prince to speak well of them) and these he had often condemned others for as a Judge, which now he comes to suffer for as a Delinquent: And they were proved, & aggravated against him with so many circumstances, that they fell very fouly on him, both in relation to his Reception of them, and his expending of them: For that which he raked in, and scrued for one way, he scattered and threw abroad another; for his Servants, being young, prodigall and expensive Youths, which he kept about him, his Treasure was their common Store, which they took without stint, having free accesse to his most retired Privacies; and his indulgence to them, and familiarity with them, opened a gap to infamous Reports, which left an unsavoury Tincture on him; for where such Leeches are, there must be putrid bloud to fill their craving Appetites. His gettings were like a Prince, with a strong hand; his expences like a Prodigall, with a weak head; and 'tis a wonder a man of his Noble, and Gallant Parts, that could fly so high above Reason, should fall so far below it; unlesse that Spirit that acted the first, were too proud to stoop, to see the deformities of the last. And as he affected his men, so his Wife affected hers: Seldome doth the Husband deviate one way, but the Wife goeth another. These things came into the publique mouth, and the Genius of the Times (where malice is not corrivall) is the great Dictator of all Actions: For innocency it self is a crime, when calumny sets her mark upon it. How prudent therefore ought men to be, that not so much as their garments be defiled with the sour breath of the Times!

This poor Gentleman, mounted above pity, fell down below it: His Tongue, that was the glory of his time for Eloquence, (that tuned so many sweet Harrangues) was like a forsaken Harp, hung upon the Willows, whilst the waters of affliction overflowed the banks. And now his high-flying Orations are humbled to Supplications,...

* * * * *

He was of a middling stature, his countenance had in-dented with Age before he was old; his Presence grave and comely; of a high-flying and lively Wit, striving in some things to be rather admired than understood, yet so quick and easie where he would express himself, and his Memory so strong and active, that he appeared the Master of a large and plenteous store-house of Knowledge, being (as it were) Natures Midwife, stripping her Callou-brood, and clothing them in new Attire. His Wit was quick to the last; for Gondemar meeting him the Lent before his Censure, and hearing of his Miscarriages, thought to pay him with his Spanish Sarcasms and Scoffs, saying, My Lord, I wish you a good Easter; And you my Lord, replyed the Chancellor, a good Passeover: For he could neither close with his English Buffonerie, nor his Spanish Treaty (which Gondemar knew) though he was so wise as publiquely to oppose neither. In fine, he was a fit Jewel to have beautified, and adorned a flourishing Kingdom, if his flaws had not disgraced the lustre that should have set him off.



10.

By THOMAS FULLER.

[Sidenote: An essay at his character.]

None can character him to the life, save himself. He was in parts, more than a Man, who in any Liberal profession, might be, whatsoever he would himself. A great Honourer of antient Authors, yet a great Deviser and Practiser of new waies in Learning. Privy Counsellor, as to King JAMES, so to Nature it self, diving into many of her abstruse Mysteries. New conclusions he would dig out with mattocks of gold & silver, not caring what his experience cost him, expending on the Trials of Nature, all and more than he got by the Trials at the Barre, Posterity being the better for his, though he the worse for his own, dear experiments. He and his Servants had all in common, the Men never wanting what their Master had, and thus what came flowing in unto him, was sent flying away from him, who, in giving of rewards knew no bounds, but the bottome of his own purse. Wherefore when King James heard that he had given Ten pounds to an under-keeper, by whom He had sent him a Buck, the King said merrily, I and He shall both die Beggars, which was condemnable Prodigality in a Subject. He lived many years after, and in his Books will ever survive, in the reading whereof, modest Men commend him, in what they doe, condemn themselves, in what they doe not understand, as believing the fault in their own eyes, and not in the object.



11.

By WILLIAM RAWLEY.

He was no Plodder upon Books; Though he read much; And that, with great Judgement, and Rejection of Impertinences, incident to many Authours: For he would ever interlace a Moderate Relaxation of His Minde, with his Studies; As Walking; Or Taking the Aire abroad in his Coach; or some other befitting Recreation: And yet he would loose no Time, In as much as upon his First and Immediate Return, he would fall to Reading again: And so suffer no Moment of Time to Slip from him, without some present Improvement.

His Meales were Refections, of the Eare, as well as of the Stomack: Like the Noctes Atticae; or Convivia Deipno-Sophistarum; Wherein a Man might be refreshed, in his Minde, and understanding, no lesse then in his Body. And I have known some, of no mean Parts, that have professed to make use of their Note-Books, when they have risen from his Table. In which Conversations, and otherwise, he was no Dashing Man; As some Men are; But ever, a Countenancer, and Fosterer, of another Mans Parts. Neither was he one, that would appropriate the Speech, wholy to Himself; or delight to out-vie others; But leave a Liberty, to the Co-Assessours, to take their Turns, to Wherein he would draw a Man on, and allure him, to speak upon such a Subject, as wherein he was peculiarly Skilfull, and would delight to speak. And, for Himself, he condemned no Mans Observations; But would light his Torch at every Mans Candle.

His Opinions, and Assertions, were, for the most part, Binding; And not contradicted, by any; Rather like Oracles, then Discourses. Which may be imputed, either to the well weighing of his Sentence, by the Skales of Truth, and Reason; Or else, to the Reverence, and Estimation, wherein he was, commonly, had, that no Man would contest with him. So that, there was no Argumentation, or Pro and Con, (as they term it,) at his Table: Or if there chanced to be any, it was Carried with much Submission, and Moderation.

I have often observed; And so have other Men, of great Account; That if he had occasion to repeat another Mans Words, after him; he had an use, and Faculty, to dresse them in better Vestments, and Apparell, then they had before: So that, the Authour should finde his own Speech much amended; And yet the Substance of it still retained. As if it had been Naturall to him, to use good Forms; As Ovid spake, of his Faculty of Versifying;

Et quod tentabam Scribere, Versus erat.

When his Office called him, as he was of the Kings Counsell Learned, to charge any Offenders, either in Criminals, or Capitals; He was never of an Insulting, or Domineering Nature, over them; But alwayes tender Hearted, and carrying himself decently towards the Parties; (Though it was his Duty, to charge them home:) But yet, as one, that looked upon the Example, with the Eye of Severity; But upon the Person, with the Eye of Pitty, and Compassion. And in Civill Businesse, as he was Counseller of Estate, he had the best way of Advising; Not engaging his Master, in any Precipitate, or grievous, Courses; But in Moderate, and Fair, Proceedings: The King, whom he served, giving him this Testimony; That he ever dealt, in Businesse, Suavibus Modis; Which was the way, that was most according to his own Heart.

Neither was He, in his time, lesse Gracious with the Subject, then with his Soveraign: He was ever Acceptable to the House of Commons, when He was a Member thereof. Being the Kings Atturney, & chosen to a place, in Parliament, He was allowed, and dispensed with, to sit in the House; which was not permitted to other Atturneys.

And as he was a good Servant, to his Master; Being never, in 19. years Service, (as himself averred,) rebuked by the King, for any Thing, relating to his Majesty; So he was a good Master, to his Servants; And rewarded their long Attendance, with good Places, freely, when they fell into his Power. Which was the Cause, that so many young Gentlemen, of Bloud, and Quality, sought to list themselves, in his Retinew. And if he were abused, by any of them, in their Places; It was onely the Errour of the Goodnesse of his Nature; But the Badges of their Indiscretions, and Intemperances.



12.

BEN JONSON.

Born 1573. Died 1637.

By CLARENDON.

Ben Johnsons name can never be forgotten, havinge by his very good learninge, and the severity of his nature, and manners, very much reformed the Stage and indeede the English poetry it selfe; his naturall advantages were judgement to order and governe fancy, rather then excesse of fancy, his productions beinge slow and upon deliberation, yett then aboundinge with greate witt and fancy, and will lyve accordingly, and surely as he did exceedingly exalte the English language, in eloquence, propriety, and masculyne exspressions, so he was the best judge of, and fittest to prescribe rules to poetry and poetts, of any man who had lyved with or before him, or since, if M'r Cowly had not made a flight beyounde all men, with that modesty yett to own much of his to the example and learninge of Ben. Johnson: His conversation was very good and with the men of most note, and he had for many yeares an extraordinary kindnesse for M'r Hyde, till he founde he betooke himselfe to businesse, which he believed ought never to be preferred before his company: He lyved to be very old, and till the Palsy made a deepe impression upon his body and his minde.



13.

By JAMES HOWELL.

To Sir THO. HAWK. Knight.

Sir,

I was invited yesternight to a solemne supper by B.I. wher you were deeply remembred, ther was good company, excellent chear, choice wines, and joviall welcom; one thing interven'd which almost spoyld the relish of the rest, that B. began to engross all the discourse, to vapour extremely of himself, and by villifying others to magnifie his owne muse; T. Ca. buz'd me in the eare, that though Ben had barreld up a great deal of knowledg, yet it seems he had not read the Ethiques, which among other precepts of morality forbid self-commendation, declaring it to be an ill favourd solecism in good manners; It made me think upon the Lady (not very young) who having a good while given her guests neat entertainment, a capon being brought upon the table, instead of a spoon she took a mouthfull of claret and spouted it into the poope of the hollow bird; such an accident happend in this entertainment you know—Proprio laus sordet in ore; be a mans breath never so sweet, yet it makes ones prayses stink, if he makes his owne mouth the conduit pipe of it; But for my part I am content to dispense with this Roman infirmity of B. now that time hath snowed upon his pericranium. You know Ovid, and (your) Horace were subject to this humour, the first bursting out into,

Tamq; opus exegi quod nec Iovis ira, nec ignis, &c.

The other into,

Exegi monumentum aere perennius, &c.

As also Cicero while he forc'd himself into this Exameter; O fortunatam natam me consule Romam. Ther is another reason that excuseth B. which is, that if one be allowed to love the naturall issue of his body, why not that of the brain, which is of a spirituall and more noble extraction; I preserve your manuscripts safe for you till your return to London, what newes the times afford this bearer will impart unto you. So I am,

Sir, Your very humble and most faithfull Servitor, J.H. Westmin. 5 Apr. 1636.



14.

HENRY HASTINGS.

Born 1551. Died 1650.

By SHAFTESBURY.

Mr. Hastings, by his quality, being the son, brother, and uncle to the Earls of Huntingdon, and his way of living, had the first place amongst us. He was peradventure an original in our age, or rather the copy of our nobility in ancient days in hunting and not warlike times; he was low, very strong and very active, of a reddish flaxen hair, his clothes always green cloth, and never all worth when new five pounds. His house was perfectly of the old fashion, in the midst of a large park well stocked with deer, and near the house rabbits to serve his kitchen, many fish-ponds, and great store of wood and timber; a bowling-green in it, long but narrow, full of high ridges, it being never levelled since it was ploughed; they used round sand bowls, and it had a banqueting-house like a stand, a large one built in a tree. He kept all manner of sport-hounds that ran buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger, and hawks long and short winged; he had all sorts of nets for fishing: he had a walk in the New Forest and the manor of Christ Church. This last supplied him with red deer, sea and river fish; and indeed all his neighbours' grounds and royalties were free to him, who bestowed all his time in such sports, but what he borrowed to caress his neighbours' wives and daughters, there being not a woman in all his walks of the degree of a yeoman's wife or under, and under the age of forty, but it was extremely her fault if he were not intimately acquainted with her. This made him very popular, always speaking kindly to the husband, brother, or father, who was to boot very welcome to his house whenever he came. There he found beef pudding and small beer in great plenty, a house not so neatly kept as to shame him or his dirty shoes, the great hall strewed with marrow bones, full of hawks' perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers, the upper sides of the hall hung with the fox-skins of this and the last year's skinning, here and there a polecat intermixed, guns and keepers' and huntsmen's poles in abundance. The parlour was a large long room, as properly furnished; on a great hearth paved with brick lay some terriers and the choicest hounds and spaniels; seldom but two of the great chairs had litters of young cats in them, which were not to be disturbed, he having always three or four attending him at dinner, and a little white round stick of fourteen inches long lying by his trencher, that he might defend such meat as he had no mind to part with to them. The windows, which were very large, served for places to lay his arrows, crossbows, stonebows, and other such like accoutrements; the corners of the room full of the best chose hunting and hawking poles; an oyster-table at the lower end, which was of constant use twice a day all the year round, for he never failed to eat oysters before dinner and supper through all seasons: the neighbouring town of Poole supplied him with them. The upper part of this room had two small tables and a desk, on the one side of which was a church Bible, on the other the Book of Martyrs; on the tables were hawks' hoods, bells, and such like, two or three old green hats with their crowns thrust in so as to hold ten or a dozen eggs, which were of a pheasant kind of poultry he took much care of and fed himself; tables, dice, cards, and boxes were not wanting. In the hole of the desk were store of tobacco-pipes that had been used. On one side of this end of the room was the door of a closet, wherein stood the strong beer and the wine, which never came thence but in single glasses, that being the rule of the house exactly observed, for he never exceeded in drink or permitted it. On the other side was a door into an old chapel not used for devotion; the pulpit, as the safest place, was never wanting of a cold chine of beef, pasty of venison, gammon of bacon, or great apple-pie, with thick crust extremely baked. His table cost him not much, though it was very good to eat at, his sports supplying all but beef and mutton, except Friday, when he had the best sea-fish as well as other fish he could get, and was the day that his neighbours of best quality most visited him. He never wanted a London pudding, and always sung it in with 'my part lies therein-a.' He drank a glass of wine or two at meals, very often syrrup of gilliflower in his sack, and had always a tun glass without feet stood by him holding a pint of small beer, which he often stirred with a great sprig of rosemary. He was well natured, but soon angry, calling his servants bastard and cuckoldy knaves, in one of which he often spoke truth to his own knowledge, and sometimes in both, though of the same man. He lived to a hundred, never lost his eyesight, but always writ and read without spectacles, and got to horse without help. Until past fourscore he rode to the death of a stag as well as any.



15.

CHARLES I.

Born 1600. Succeeded James I 1625. Beheaded 1649.

By CLARENDON.

The severall unhearde of insolencyes which this excellent Prince was forced to submitt to, at the other tymes he was brought before that odious judicatory, his Majesticke behaviour under so much insolence, and resolute insistinge upon his owne dignity, and defendinge it by manifest authorityes in the lawe, as well as by the cleerest deductions from reason, the pronouncinge that horrible sentence upon the most innocent person in the worlde, the execution of that sentence by the most execrable murther that ever was committed, since that of our blessed Savyour, and the circumstances therof, the application and interposition that was used by some noble persons to praevent that wofull murther, and the hypocrisy with which that interposition was deluded, the Saintlike behaviour of that blessed Martir, and his Christian courage and patience at his death, are all particulars so well knowne, and have bene so much inlarged upon in treatises peculiarly applyed to that purpose, that the farther mentioninge it in this place, would but afflicte and grieve the reader, and make the relation itselfe odious; and therfore no more shall be sayd heare of that lamentable Tragedy, so much to the dishonour of the Nation, and the religion professed by it; but it will not be unnecessary to add the shorte character of his person, that posterity may know the inestimable losse which the nation then underwent in beinge deprived of a Prince whose example would have had a greater influence upon the manners and piety of the nation, then the most stricte lawes can have.

To speake first of his private qualifications as a man, before the mention of his princely and royall virtues, He was, if ever any, the most worthy of the title of an honest man; so greate a lover of justice, that no temptation could dispose him to a wrongfull action, except it were so disguysed to him, that he believed it to be just; he had a tendernesse and compassion of nature, which restrayned him from ever doinge a hard hearted thinge, and therfore he was so apt to grant pardon to Malefactors, that his Judges represented to him the damage and insecurity to the publique that flowed from such his indulgence, and then he restrayned himselfe from pardoninge ether murthers or highway robberyes, and quickly decerned the fruits of his severity, by a wounderfull reformation of those enormityes. He was very punctuall and regular in his devotions, so that he was never knowne to enter upon his recreations or sportes, though never so early in the morninge, before he had bene at publique prayers, so that on huntinge dayes, his Chaplynes were bounde to a very early attendance, and he was likewise very stricte in observinge the howres of his private cabbinett devotions, and was so seveare an exactor of gravity and reverence in all mention of religion, that he could never indure any light or prophane worde in religion, with what sharpnesse of witt so ever it was cover'd; and though he was well pleased and delighted with readinge verses made upon any occasyon, no man durst bringe before him any thinge that was prophane or uncleane, that kinde of witt had never any countenance then. He was so greate an example of conjugall affection, that they who did not imitate him in that particular, did not bragge of ther liberty, and he did not only permitt but directe his Bishopps to prosequte those skandalous vices, in the Ecclesiasticall Courtes, against persons of eminence, and neere relation to his service.

His kingly virtues had some mixture and allay that hindred them from shyninge in full lustre, and from producinge those fruites they should have bene attended with; he was not in his nature bountifull, though he gave very much, which appeared more after the Duke of Buckinghams death, after which those showers fell very rarely, and he paused to longe in givinge, which made those to whome he gave lesse sensible of the benefitt. He kept state to the full, which made his Courte very orderly, no man prsesuminge to be seene in a place wher he had no pretence to be; he saw and observed men longe, before he receaved any about his person, and did not love strangers, nor very confident men. He was a patient hearer of causes, which he frequently accustomed himselfe to, at the Councell Board, and judged very well, and was dextrous in the mediatinge parte, so that he often putt an end to causes by perswasion, which the stubbornesse of mens humours made delatory in courts of justice. He was very fearelesse in his person, but not enterpryzinge, and had an excellent understandinge, but was not confident enough of it: which made him often tymes chaunge his owne opinion for a worse, and follow the advice of a man, that did not judge so well as himselfe: and this made him more irresolute, then the conjuncture of his affayres would admitt: If he had bene of a rougher and more imperious nature, he would have founde more respecte and duty, and his not applyinge some seveare cures, to approchinge evills, proceeded from the lenity of his nature, and the tendernesse of his conscience, which in all cases of bloode, made him choose the softer way, and not hearken to seveare councells how reasonably soever urged. This only restrayned him from pursuinge his advantage in the first Scotts expedition, when humanely speakinge, he might have reduced that Nation to the most slavish obedyence that could have bene wished, but no man can say, he had then many who advized him to it, but the contrary, by a wounderfull indisposition all his Councell had to fightinge, or any other fatigue. He was alwayes an immoderate lover of the Scottish nation, havinge not only bene borne ther, but educated by that people and besiedged by them alwayes, havinge few English aboute him till he was kinge, and the major number of his servants beinge still of those, who he thought could never fayle him, and then no man had such an ascendent over him, by the lowest and humblest insinuations, as Duke Hambleton had.

As he excelled in all other virtues, so in temperance he was so stricte that he abhorred all deboshry to that degree, that at a greate festivall solemnity wher he once was, when very many of the nobility of the English and Scotts were entertayned, he was[1] told by one who withdrew from thence, what vast draughts of wine they dranke, and that ther was one Earle who had dranke most of the rest downe and was not himselfe mooved or altred, the kinge sayd that he deserved to be hanged, and that Earle comminge shortly into the roome wher his Majesty was, in some gayty to shew how unhurte he was from that battle, the kinge sent one to bidd him withdraw from his Majestys presence, nor did he in some dayes after appeare before the kinge.

Ther were so many miraculous circumstances contributed to his ruine, that men might well thinke that heaven and earth conspired it, and that the starres designed it, though he was from the first declension of his power, so much betrayed by his owne servants, that there were very few who remayned faythfull to him; yett that trechery proceeded not from any treasonable purpose to do him any harme, but from particular and personall animosityes against other men; and afterwards the terrour all men were under of the Parliament and the guilte they were conscious of themselves, made them watch all opportunityes to make themselves gratious to those who could do them good, and so they became spyes upon ther master, and from one piece of knavery, were hardned and confirmed to undertake another, till at last they had no hope of praeservation but by the destruction of ther master; And after all this, when a man might reasonably believe, that lesse then a universall defection of three nations, could not have reduced a greate kinge to so ugly a fate, it is most certayne that in that very howre when he was thus wickedly murthered in the sight of the sunn, he had as greate a share in the heartes and affections of his subjects in generall, was as much beloved, esteemed and longed for by the people in generall of the three nations, as any of his predecessors had ever bene. To conclude, he was the worthyest gentleman, the best master, the best frende, the best husbande, the best father, and the best Christian, that the Age in which he lyved had produced, and if he was not the best kinge, if he was without some parts and qualityes which have made some kings greate and happy, no other Prince was ever unhappy, who was possessed of half his virtues and indowments, and so much without any kinde of vice.

[Footnote 1: 'he was' altered to 'being' in ed. 1792.]



16.

By SIR PHILIP WARWICK.

He was a person, tho' born sickly, yet who came thro' temperance and exercise, to have as firm and strong a body, as most persons I ever knew, and throughout all the fatigues of the warr, or during his imprisonment, never sick. His appetite was to plain meats, and tho' he took a good quantity thereof, yet it was suitable to an easy digestion. He seldom eat of above three dishes at most, nor drank above thrice: a glasse of small beer, another of claret wine, and the last of water; he eat suppers as well as dinners heartily; but betwixt meales, he never medled with any thing. Fruit he would eat plentifully, and with this regularity, he moved as steddily, as a star follows its course. His deportment was very majestick; for he would not let fall his dignity, no not to the greatest Forraigners, that came to visit him and his Court; for tho' he was farr from pride, yet he was carefull of majestie, and would be approacht with respect and reverence. His conversation was free, and the subject matter of it (on his own side of the Court) was most commonly rational; or if facetious, not light. With any Artist or good Mechanick, Traveller, or Scholar he would discourse freely; and as he was commonly improved by them, so he often gave light to them in their own art or knowledge. For there were few Gentlemen in the world, that knew more of useful or necessary learning, than this Prince did: and yet his proportion of books was but small, having like Francis the first of France, learnt more by the ear, than by study. His way of arguing was very civil and patient; for he seldom contradicted another by his authority, but by his reason: nor did he by any petulant dislike quash another's arguments; and he offered his exception by this civill introduction, By your favour, Sir, I think otherwise on this or that ground: yet he would discountenance any bold or forward addresse unto him. And in suits or discourse of busines he would give way to none abruptly to enter into them, but lookt, that the greatest Persons should in affairs of this nature addresse to him by his proper Ministers, or by some solemn desire of speaking to him in their own persons. His exercises were manly; for he rid the great horse very well; and on the little saddle he was not only adroit, but a laborious hunter or field-man: and they were wont to say of him, that he fail'd not to do any of his exercises artificially, but not very gracefully; like some well-proportion'd faces, which yet want a pleasant air of countenance. He had a great plainnes in his own nature, and yet he was thought even by his Friends to love too much a versatile man; but his experience had thorowly weaned him from this at last.

He kept up the dignity of his Court, limiting persons to places suitable to their qualities, unless he particularly call'd for them. Besides the women, who attended on his beloved Queen and Consort, he scarce admitted any great Officer to have his wife in the family. Sir Henry Vane was the first, that I knew in that kind, who having a good dyet as Comptroller of the Houshold, and a tenuity of fortune, was winkt at; so as the Court was fill'd, not cramm'd. His exercises of Religion were most exemplary; for every morning early, and evening not very late, singly and alone, in his own bed-chamber or closet he spent some time in private meditation: (for he durst reflect and be alone) and thro' the whole week, even when he went a hunting, he never failed, before he sat down to dinner, to have part of the Liturgy read unto him and his menial servants, came he never so hungry, or so late in: and on Sundays and Tuesdays he came (commonly at the beginning of Service) to the Chappell, well attended by his Court-Lords, and chief Attendants, and most usually waited on by many of the Nobility in town, who found those observances acceptably entertain'd by him. His greatest enemies can deny none of this; and a man of this moderation of mind could have no hungry appetite to prey upon his subjects, tho' he had a greatnes of mind not to live precariously by them. But when he fell into the sharpnes of his afflictions, (than which few men underwent sharper) I dare say, I know it, (I am sure conscientiously I say it) tho' God dealt with him, as he did with St. Paul, not remove the thorn, yet he made his grace sufficient to take away the pungency of it: for he made as sanctified an use of his afflictions, as most men ever did.

No Gentleman in his three nations, tho' there were many more learned, (for I have supposed him but competently learned, tho' eminently rational) better understood the foundations of his own Church, and the grounds of the Reformation, than he did: which made the Pope's Nuncio to the Queen, Signior Con, to say (both of him and Arch-Bishop Laud, when the King had forced the Archbishop to admit a visit from, and a conference with the Nuncio) That when he came first to Court, he hoped to have made great impressions there; but after he had conferr'd with Prince and Prelate, (who never denyed him any thing frowardly or ignorantly, but admitted all, which primitive and uncorrupted Rome for the first 500 years had exercised,) he declared he found, That they resolved to deal with his Master, the Pope, as wrestlers do with one another, take him up to fling him down. And therefore tho' I cannot say, I know, that he wrote his Icon Basilike, or Image, which goes under his own name; yet I can say, I have heard him, even unto my unworthy selfe, say many of those things it contains: and I have bin assur'd by Mr. Levett, (one of the Pages of his Bedchamber, and who was with him thro' all his imprisonments) that he hath not only seen the Manuscript of that book among his Majestie's papers at the Isle of Wight, but read many of the chapters himselfe: and Mr. Herbert, who by the appointment of Parliament attended him, says, he saw the Manuscript in the King's hand, as he believed; but it was in a running character, and not that which the King usually wrote. And whoever reads his private and cursory letters, which he wrote unto the Queen, and to some great men (especially in his Scotch affairs, set down by Mr. Burnet, when he stood single, as he did thro' all his imprisonments) the gravity and significancy of that style may assure a misbeliever, that he had head and hand enough to express the ejaculations of a good, pious, and afflicted heart; and Solomon says, that affliction gives understanding, or elevates thoughts: and we cannot wonder, that so royal a heart, sensible of such afflictions, should make such a description of them, as he hath done in that book.

And tho' he was of as slow a pen, as of speech; yet both were very significant: and he had that modest esteem of his own parts, that he would usually say, He would willingly make his own dispatches, but that he found it better to be a Cobler, than a Shoomaker. I have bin in company with very learned men, when I have brought them their own papers back from him, with his alterations, who ever contest his amendments to have bin very material. And I once by his commandment brought him a paper of my own to read, to see, whether it was suitable unto his directions, and he disallow'd it slightingly: I desir'd him, I might call Doctor Sanderson to aid me, and that the Doctor might understand his own meaning from himselfe; and with his Majestie's leave, I brought him, whilst he was walking, and taking the aire; whereupon wee two went back; but pleas'd him as little, when wee return'd it: for smilingly he said, A man might have as good ware out of a Chandler's shop: but afterwards he set it down with his own pen very plainly, and suitable unto his own intentions. The thing was of that nature, (being too great an owning of the Scots, when Duke Hamilton was in the heart of England so meanely defeated, and like the crafty fox lay out of countenance in the hands of his enemies,) that it chilled the Doctors ink; and when the matter came to be communicated, those honourable Persons, that then attended him, prevayl'd on him to decline the whole. And I remember, when his displeasure was a little off, telling him, how severely he had dealt in his charactering the best pen in England, Dr. Sanderson's; he told me, he had had two Secretaries, one a dull man in comparison of the other, and yet the first best pleas'd him: For, said he, my Lord Carleton ever brought me my own sense in my own words; but my Lord Faulkland most commonly brought me my instructions in so fine a dress, that I did not alwaies own them. Which put me in mind to tell him a story of my Lord Burleigh and his son Cecil: for Burleigh being at Councill, and Lord Treasurer, reading an order penn'd by a new Clerk of the Councill, who was a Wit and Scholar, he flung it downward to the lower end of the Table to his son, the Secretary, saying, Mr. Secretary, you bring in Clerks of the Councill, who will corrupt the gravity and dignity of the style of the Board: to which the Secretary replied, I pray, my Lord, pardon this, for this Gentleman is not warm in his place, and hath had so little to do, that he is wanton with his pen: but I will put so much busines upon him, that he shall be willing to observe your Lordship's directions. These are so little stories, that it may be justly thought, I am either vain, or at leasure to sett them down; but I derive my authority from an Author, the world hath ever reverenced, viz, Plutarch; who writing the lives of Alexander the great and Julius Cesar, runs into the actions, flowing from their particular natures, and into their private conversation, saying, These smaller things would discover the men, whilst their great actions only discover the power of their States.

One or two things more then I may warrantably observe: First, as an evidence of his natural probity, whenever any young Nobleman or Gentleman of quality, who was going to travell, came to kiss his hand, he cheerfully would give them some good counsel, leading to morall virtue, especially to good conversation; telling them, that If he heard they kept good company abroad, he should reasonably expect, they would return qualified to serve him and their Country well at home; and he was very carefull to keep the youth in his times uncorrupted. This I find in the Memoires upon James Duke Hamilton, was his advice unto that noble and loyal Lord, William, afterwards, Duke Hamilton, who so well serv'd his Son, and never perfidiously disserv'd him, when in armes against him. Secondly, his forementioned intercepted letters to the Queen at Naisby had this passage in them, where mentioning religion, he said, This is the only thing, wherein we two differ; which even unto a miscreant Jew would have bin proofe enough of this King's sincerity in his religion; and had it not bin providence or inadvertence, surely those, who had in this kind defam'd him, would never themselves have publish'd in print this passage, which thus justified him.

This may be truly said, That he valued the Reformation of his own Church, before any in the world; and was as sensible and as knowing of, and severe against, the deviations of Rome from the primitive Church, as any Gentleman in Christendom; and beyond those errors, no way quarrelsom towards it: for he was willing to give it its due, that it might be brought to be willing to accept, at least to grant, such an union in the Church, as might have brought a free and friendly communion between Dissenters, without the one's totall quitting his errors, or the other's being necessitated to partake therein: and I truly believe this was the utmost both of his and his Archbishop's inclinations; and if I may not, yet both these Martyrs confessions on the scaffold (God avert the prophecy of the last, Venient Romani) surely may convince the world, that they both dyed true Assertors of the Reformation. And the great and learned light of this last age, Grotius, soon discern'd this inclination in him: for in his dedication of his immortal and scarce ever to be parallel'd book, De Jure Belli & Pacis, he recommends it to Lewis XIII, King of France, as the most Royall and Christian design imaginable for his Majestic to become a means to make an union amongst Christians in profession of religion; and therein he tells him, how well-knowing and well-disposed the King of England was thereunto. In a word, had he had as daring and active a courage to obviate danger; as he had a steddy and undaunted in all hazardous rencounters; or had his active courage equall'd his passive, the rebellious and tumultuous humor of those, who were disloyall to him, probably had been quash'd in their first rise: for thro'-out the English story it may be observed, that the souldier-like spirit in the Prince hath bin ever much more fortunate and esteem'd, than the pious: a Prince's awfull reputation being of much more defence to him, than his Regall (nay Legall) edicts.



17.

THE EARL OF STRAFFORD.

Thomas Wentworth, knighted 1611, second baronet 1614, created Viscount Wentworth 1628, Earl of Strafford 1640.

Born 1593. Beheaded 1641.

By CLARENDON.

All thinges beinge thus transacted, to conclude the fate of this greate person, he was on the 12. day of May brought from the Tower of London, wher he had bene a prysoner neere six moneths, to the Skaffold on Tower Hill, wher with a composed, undaunted courage, he told the people, he was come thither to satisfy them with his heade, but that he much feared, the reformation which was begunn in bloode, would not proove so fortunate to the kingdom as they exspected, and he wished, and after greate expressyons of his devotion to the Church of Englande, and the Protestant Religion established by Law and professed in that Church, of his loyalty to the Kinge, and affection to the peace and welfare of the Kingdome, with marvellous tranquillity of minde, he deliver'd his Heade to the blocke, wher it was sever'd from his body at a blow; many of the standers by, who had not bene over charitable to him in his life, beinge much affected with the courage and Christianity of his death. Thus fell the greatest subjecte in power (and little inferiour to any in fortune) that was at that tyme in ether of the three Kingdomes; who could well remember the tyme when he ledd those people, who then pursued him to his grave. He was a man of greate partes and extraordinary indowments of nature, not unadorned with some addicion of Arte and learninge, though that agayne was more improoved and illustrated by the other, for he had a readynesse of conception, and sharpnesse of expressyon, which made his learninge thought more, then in truth it was. His first inclinations and addresses to the Courte, were only to establish his Greatnesse in the Country, wher he apprehended some Actes of power from the[1] L'd Savill, who had bene his ryvall alwayes ther, and of late had strenghtened himselfe by beinge made a Privy Counsellour, and Officer at Courte, but his first attempts were so prosperous that he contented not himselfe with beinge secure from his power in the Country, but rested not till he had bereaved him of all power and place in Courte, and so sent him downe a most abject disconsolate old man to his Country, wher he was to have the superintendency over him too, by getting himselfe at that tyme made L'd President of the North. These successes, applyed to a nature too elate and arrogant of it selfe, and a quicker progresse into the greatest imployments and trust, made him more transported with disdayne of other men, and more contemninge the formes of businesse, then happily he would have bene, if he had mett with some interruptions in the beginning, and had passed in a more leasurely gradation to the office of a Statesman. He was no doubte of greate observation, and a piercinge judgement both into thinges and persons, but his too good skill in persons made him judge the worse of thinges, for it was his misfortune to be of a tyme, wherin very few wise men were aequally imployed with him, and scarce any (but the L'd Coventry, whose trust was more confined) whose facultyes and abilityes were aequall to his, so that upon the matter he wholy relyed upon himselfe, and decerninge many defects in most men, he too much neglected what they sayd or did. Of all his passyons his pryde was most praedominant, which a moderate exercise of ill fortune might have corrected and reformed, and which was by the hande of heaven strangely punished, by bringinge his destruction upon him, by two thinges, that he most despised, the people, and S'r Harry Vane; In a worde, the Epitaph which Plutarch recordes, that Silla wrote for himselfe, may not be unfitly applyed to him; That no man did ever passe him, ether in doinge good to his frends, or in doinge mischieve to his enimyes, for his Actes of both kindes were most exemplar and notorious.

[Footnote 1: 'old' inserted in another hand before 'L'd'.]



18.

By SIR PHILIP WARWICK.

The Lord Viscount Wentworth, Lord President of the North, whom the Lord Treasurer Portland had brought into his Majestie's affairs, from his ability and activity had wrought himselfe much into his Majestie's confidence; and about the year 1632 was appointed by the King to be Lord Deputy of Ireland, where the state of affairs was in no very good posture, the revenue of the crown not defraying the standing army there, nor the ordinary expences; and the deportment of the Romanists being there also very insolent, and the Scots plantations in the northern parts of that Realm looking upon themselves, as if they had been a distinct body. So as here was subject matter enough for this great man to work on; and considering his hardines, it may well be supposed, that the difficulties of his employment, being means to shew his abilities, were gratefull to him; for he was every way qualified for busines; his naturall faculties being very strong and pregnant, his understanding, aided by a good phansy, made him quick in discerning the nature of any busines; and thro' a cold brain he became deliberate and of a sound judgement. His memory was great, and he made it greater by confiding in it. His elocution was very fluent, and it was a great part of his talent readily to reply, or freely to harangue upon any subject. And all this was lodged in a sowre and haughty temper; so as it may probably be believed, he expected to have more observance paid to him, than he was willing to pay to others, tho' they were of his own quality; and then he was not like to conciliate the good will of men of the lesser station.

His acquired parts, both in University and Inns-of-Court Learning, as likewise his forreign-travells, made him an eminent man, before he was a conspicuous; so as when he came to shew himselfe first in publick affairs, which was in the House of Commons, he was soon a bell-weather in that flock. As he had these parts, he knew how to set a price on them, if not overvalue them: and he too soon discovered a roughnes in his nature, which a man no more obliged by him, than I was, would have called an injustice; tho' many of his Confidents, (who were my good friends, when I like a little worm, being trod on, would turn and laugh, and under that disguise say as piquant words, as my little wit would help me with) were wont to swear to me, that he endeavoured to be just to all, but was resolv'd to be gracious to none, but to those, whom he thought inwardly affected him: which never bowed me, till his broken fortune, and as I thought, very unjustifiable prosecution, made me one of the fifty six, who gave a negative to that fatall Bill, which cut the thread of his life.

He gave an early specimen of the roughnes of his nature, when in the eager pursuit of the House of Commons after the Duke of Buckingham, he advised or gave a counsel against another, which was afterwards taken up and pursued against himselfe. Thus pressing upon another man's case, he awakened his own fate. For when that House was in consultation, how to frame the particular charge against that great Duke, he advised to make a generall one, and to accuse him of treason, and to let him afterwards get off, as he could; which befell himselfe at last. I beleive he should make no irrational conjecture, who determined, that his very eminent parts to support a Crown, and his very rugged nature to contest disloyalty, or withstand change of government, made his enemies implacable to him. It was a great infirmity in him, that he seem'd to overlooke so many, as he did; since every where, much more in Court, the numerous or lesser sort of attendants can obstruct, create jealousies, spread ill reports, and do harme: for as 'tis impossible, that any power or deportment should satisfy all persons: so there a little friendlines and opennes of carriage begets hope, and lessens envy.

In his person he was of a tall stature, but stooped much in the neck. His countenance was cloudy, whilst he moved, or sat thinking; but when he spake, either seriously or facetiously, he had a lightsom and a very pleasant ayre: and indeed whatever he then did, he performed very gracefully. The greatnes of the envy, that attended him, made many in their prognosticks to bode him an ill end; and there went current a story of the dream of his Father, who being both by his wife, nighest friends, and Physicians, thought to be at the point of his death, fell suddenly into so profound a sleep, and lay quietly so long, that his Wife, uncertain of his condition, drew nigh his bed, to observe, whether she could hear him breath, and gently touching him, he awaked with great disturbance, and told her the reason was, she had interrupted him in a dream, which most passionately he desired to have known the end of. For, said he, I dream'd one appear'd to me, assuring me, that I should have a son, (for 'till then he had none) who should be a very great and eminent man: but—and in this instant thou didst awake me, whereby I am bereaved of the knowledge of the further fortune of the child. This I heard, when this Lord was but in the ascent of his greatnes, and long before his fall: and afterwards conferring with some of his nighest Relations, I found the tradition was not disown'd. Sure I am, that his station was like those turfs of earth or sea-banks, which by the storm swept away, left all the in-land to be drown'd by popular tumult.



19.

THE EARL OF NORTHAMPTON.

Spencer Compton, second Earl of Northampton.

Born 1601. Fell at Hopton Heath 1643.

By CLARENDON.

In this fight, which was sharpe and shorte, there were killed and taken prysoners of the Parliament party above 200. and more then that number wounded, for the horse charginge amonge ther foote, more were hurte then killed; Eight pieces of ther Cannon and most of ther Ammunition was likewise taken. Of the Earles party were slayne but 25. wherof ther were two Captaynes, some inferiour officers, and the rest common men, but ther were as many hurte, and those of the chiefe officers. They who had all the Ensignes of victory (but ther Generall) thought themselves undone, whilst the other syde who had escaped in the night and made a hard shifte to carry his deade body with them, hardly believed they were loosers,

Et velut aequali bellatum sorte fuisset componit cum classe virum:

The truth is, a greater victory had bene an unaequall recompence for a lesse losse. He was a person of greate courage, honour, and fidelity, and not well knowne till his Eveninge, havinge in the ease, and plenty, and luxury of that too happy tyme indulged to himselfe with that licence, which was then thought necessary to greate fortunes, but from the beginninge of these distractions, as if he had bene awakened out of a lethargy, he never proceeded with a lukewarme temper. Before the Standard was sett up, he appeared in Warwickshyre against the L'd Brooke, and as much upon his owne reputation as the justice of the cause (which was not so well then understoode) discountenanced and drove him out of that County, Afterwardes tooke the Ordinance from Banbury Castle, and brought them to the Kinge; assoone as an Army was to be raysed he leavyed with the first upon his owne charge a troope of Horse and a Regiment of foote, and (not like other men, who warily distributed ther Family to both sydes, one Sunn to serve the Kinge, whilst the father, or another sunn engaged as farr for the Parliament) intirely dedicated all his Children to the quarrell, havinge fowre Sunns officers under him, wherof three charged that day in the Fielde; and from the tyme he submitted himselfe to the professyon of a souldyer, no man more punctuall upon commaunde, no man more diligent and vigilant in duty, all distresses he bore like a common man, and all wants and hardnesses as if he had never knowne plenty, or ease, most prodigall of his person to daunger, and would often say, that if he outlived these warres, he was certayne never to have so noble a death, so that it is not to be woundred, if upon such a stroke, the body that felte it, thought it had lost more then a Limbe.



20.

THE EARL OF CARNARVON.

Robert Dormer, created Earl of Carnarvon 1628.

Born 1610. Fell at Newbury 1643.

By CLARENDON.

This day fell the Earle of Carnarvon, who after he had charged and rowted a body of the enimyes horse, cominge carelesly backe by some of the scattered troopers, was by one of them who knew him runn through the body with a sworde, of which he dyed within an howre. He was a person with whose greate partes and virtue the world was not enough acquainted. Before the warr, though his education was adorned by travell, and an exacte observation of the manners of more nations then our common travellers use to visitt, for he had after the view of Spayne, France, and most partes of Italy, spent some tyme in Turkey and those Easterne Countryes, he seemed to be wholly delighted with those looser exercises of pleasure, huntinge, hawkinge, and the like, in which the nobility of that tyme too much delighted to excell; After the troubles begann, havinge the commaunde of the first or secounde Regiment of Horse that was raysed for the Kinges service, he wholy gave himselfe up to the office and duty of a Souldyer, noe man more diligently obeyinge, or more dextrously commaundinge, for he was not only of a very keene courage in the exposinge his person, but an excellent discerner and pursuer of advantage upon his enimy, and had a minde and understandinge very present in the article of daunger, which is a rare benefitt in that profession. Those infirmityes and that licence which he had formerly indulged to himselfe, he putt off with severity, when others thought them excusable under the notion of a souldyer. He was a greate lover of justice, and practiced it then most deliberately, when he had power to do wronge, and so stricte in the observation of his worde and promise, as a Commander, that he could not be perswaded to stay in the west, when he founde it not in his power to performe the agreement he had made with Dorchester and Waymoth. If he had lived he would have proved a greate Ornament to that profession, and an excellent Souldyer, and by his death the Kinge founde a sensible weakenesse in his Army.



21.

LORD FALKLAND.

Lucius Gary, second Viscount Falkland 1633.

Born 1610. Fell at Newbury 1643.

By CLARENDON.

But I must heare take leave a little longer to discontinue this narration, and if the celebratinge the memory of eminent and extraordinary persons, and transmittinge ther greate virtues for the imitation of posterity, be one of the principle endes and dutyes of History, it will not be thought impertinent in this place to remember a losse, which noe tyme will suffer to be forgotten, and no successe or good fortune could repayre; In this unhappy battell was slayne the L'd Viscounte Falkelande, a person of such prodigious partes of learninge and knowledge, of that inimitable sweetenesse and delight in conversation, of so flowinge and obliginge a humanity and goodnesse to mankinde, and of that primitive simplicity, and integrity of life, that if ther were no other brande upon this odious and accursed Civill war, then that single losse, it must be most infamous and execrable to all posterity: