The court and character of King James whereunto is now added The court of King Charles : continued unto the beginning of these unhappy times : with some observations upon him instead of a character
Weldon, Anthony, Sir, d. 1649?
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[illustration]
Mars, Puer, Alecto, Virgo, VULPES, LEO, Nullus.

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THE Court and Character OF King James. Whereunto is now added THE Court of King CHARLES: CONTINUED Unto the beginning of these Unhappy TIMES. With some Observations upon Him in stead of a Character. Collected and perfected by Sir A. W. Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare.

Published by Authority.

Printed at London by R. I. and are to be sold by J. Collins in Little Brittaine, 1651.

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To my most Honoured, and truly Noble Lady, the Lady Elizabeth Sidley of South fleet.

Madam,

I Here present you with an Epitomee of some secret Passages, in the whole reign of one King, part of anothers: Of which, my self have been either an Eare or Eye-witnesse, or, from the testimony of such as have been Authours or Actors, therefore un∣questionable Truths.

It is the Conception and Birth of four daies, with the help of some scattered Papers (as a Midwife) to bring them into the world.

Being therefore but an Embry∣on, Page  [unnumbered] you cannot expect any perfect shape: But, what it wants in that, you shall finde in the most perfect form of undeniable Truths.

The honourable esteem I have ever had of you, and your brave Parts, is my first motive of presen∣ting it to your view: That it comes from no ordinary Author (this be∣ing the first, and for ought I know the last) a second: That it was written in a Melancholly humour, therefore fittest for your Melan∣cholly Temper, the last.

I dare no more trust any other hand to write this than (willingly) any but your selfe, or some such good friends to read it.

Which is the reason it appeares no fairer to your view. And it Page  [unnumbered] treads too near▪ the heeles of truth, and these Times, to appear in pub∣lick.

If you shal please to accept of it, as worthy to cast a glance upon at your idle, or melancholly hours, I have my full desires. If cast from you, it hath just Deserts.

Mine ambition only is, that so Noble a Lady shal be the God mo∣ther of the first and only heir, that ever shall come of this quality, from

Your Ladiships most humble Servant. A. W.

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Upon the Authors Discourse and Observations concerning the whole Reigne of King James, and part of King Charles's.

REader, here view a Picture of our Times
Drawn to the life; the foulest secret Crimes
Discover'd, with their Authors: Tricks of State
To create guilty soules, the Peoples hate,
The Prince's feares: Favourites Rise and Fall,
Greatnesse debauched, Gentry slighted all
To please those Favourites, whose highest ends
Were to exhaust the State, to please their friends.
View the Isles first Monarch dead, the Seconds breath,
Prerogatives sole life, the Kingdomes death.
Page  1

THE Court of King James: OR, A generall Discourse of some secret passages in State, since the death of that ever glorious Queene Elizabeth, untill this present.

By the Authors owne observati∣on, who was either an eye, or eare witnesse, or from such as were act∣ors in them, from their owne Relation.

VPon the Twenty fourth of March, 1602. did set the most glorious Sun that ever shined in our Firmament of England (the never to be forgotten Queen Elizabeth,* of happy memory) Page  2 about three in the morning, at her Mannour of Richmond; not only to the unspeakable griefe of her Ser∣vants in particular, but of all her Subjects in generall.

And although many of her Cour∣tiers adored that rising Sun appea∣ring in the North, yet since, not without regret of their monstrous ingratitude to her (that Sun) now set, and in peace:

For no sooner was that Sun set▪ but Sir Robert Carew (Her neare Kinsman, and whose Family, and himself, she had raised from the de∣gree of a meane Gentleman, to high Honour, in title and place) most in∣gratefully did catch at Her last breath, to carry it to the rising Sun then in Scotland, notwithstanding a strict Charge laid to keep fast all the Gates, yet (his Father being Lord Chamberlaine) he by that meanes found favour to get out, to carry the first newes; which although it ob∣tained for him the Governourship Page  3 of the Duke of York, yet hath set so wide a mark of ingratitude on him, that it will remaine to Posterity a greater blot, then the honour hee obtained afterward will ever wipe out.

About nine in the morning of that day, was proclaimed King Iames of blessed memory,* by the name of James the first; and now nothing on all hands, but preparations for ac∣commodating him in his journey for England, many posting into Scotland for preferment, either by indearing themselves by some merit of their owne to the King, or by purchasing friends with their purses (Gold and Silver being a precious commodity in that Climate, and would pro∣cure any thing) and did procure Suits, Honours, and Offices to any that first came; of all which the King afterward extended his boun∣ty in so large and ample a manner, as procured his owne impoverish∣ment, to the pressure of his Sub∣jects, Page  4 so farre as set some distance between him and them, which his wisdome, and King-craft, could easi∣ly at all times reconcile.

The first that came from the King to the Lords in England, to give order for all things necessary for the expediting his journey to∣ward England, was Sir Roger Aston an English-man borne,* but had his breeding wholly in Scotland, and had served the King many yeares as his Barber, an honest and free-hearted man, and of an ancient Family in Cheshire, but of no breeding answe∣rable to his birth; yet he was the only man ever employed, as a Mes∣senger from the King to Queen Eli∣zabeth, as a Letter carrier only, which expressed their owne intenti∣ons without any helpe from him (besides the delivery) but even in that capacity was in very good e∣steeme with her Majesty, and recei∣ved very royall rewards, which did inrich him, and gave him a better Page  5 Revenue then most Gentlemen in Scotland; for the Queene did finde him as faithfull to Her as to his Master, in which he shewed much wisdome, though of no breeding. In this his employment I must not passe over one pretty passage, I have heard himselfe relate; That he did never come to deliver any Letters from his Master, but ever he was placed in the Lobby; the Hangings being turned him, where he might see the Queen dancing to a little Fiddle, which was to no other end, then that he should tell his Master, by her youthfull disposition, how likely he was to come to the posses∣sion of the Crowne hee so much thirsted after; for you must under∣stand, the wisest in that Kingdome did beleeve the King should never injoy this Crowne, as long as there was an old Wife in England, which they did beleeve we ever set up, as the other was dead.

Sir Roger Aston presenting him∣selfe Page  6 before the Councell; being but a plaine untutored man, being asked how he did, and courted by all the Lords, lighted upon this happy reply; Even my Lords, like a poore man, wandring above forty yeares in a Wildernesse, and barren Soyle, am now arrived at the Land of Promise.* This man was after∣ward made Gentleman of the Bed-chamber, Master of the Wardrobe, and invested with such Honours, and Offices as he was capable of, and that inabled him to live in a noble way, during his life, and to leave his Daughters great Fortunes; but had you seene how the Lords did vye courtesies to this poore Gentleman, striving who should ingrosse that Commodity by the largest bounty; you could not but have condemned them of much basenesse (especially, seeing when at this time Offices, and great places of Honour will not be accepted from that Sonne) that the very Barber of whose Father Page  7 was so much courted, but to speake a good word in their behalfes Sure∣ly the times are much altered.

And now all preparation was made to meet the King in York, that he might in that Northerne Metro∣polis appear like a King of England, and take that State on him there, which was not known in Scotland; There met him all the Lords of the Councell, and there did they all make Court to the Scotch-men that were most in favour with the King, and there did the Scotch Courtiers lay the first foundation of their English Fortunes; the chiefe of them was Sir George Hewme,* a kinde of Favourite, but not such as after appeared with young Faces, and smooth Chins, but one that for his wisdome and gravity, had beene in some secret Councels with his Ma∣ster, which created that dearnesse between them; and the chiefe of those secrets, was that of Gowries Conspiracy, though that Nation Page  8 gave little credit to the Story, but would speak both sleightly and de∣spitefully of it, and those of the wi∣sest of that Nation; yet there was a weekly commemoration by the Tuesday Sermon, and an anniversary Feast, as great as it was possible, for the Kings preservation, ever on the fifth of August; upon which day as Sir John Ramsey after E. of Hol∣dernesse, for his good service in that preservation, was the principall guest, so did the King grant him any Boone he would aske that day; but had such limitations set to his ask∣ing, as made his suit as unprofitable unto him, as that he asked it for, was unserviceable to the King, and indeed did make the English beleeve as little the truth of that story, as the Scots themselves did, and yet on my conscience the good Gentleman did in that as a Lyer often doth, by telling a Lye often, beleeveth it to be a very truth; but the truth was, (although he was not a man capa∣ble Page  9 of much himselfe) yet had it been true; there was too little done for him, being▪ not true, too much; for, being an Earle, he was in very little esteeme, either with his Ma∣ster, or with the better sort of Courtiers. And I pray God that the effects of those Sermons in the Fa∣thers time for that service, cause no ill effects, or be not one cause of Gods anger towards us in the Sons reigne.

This Sir George Hewme being the only man that was the Guider of the King, and his affaires, all the wiser sort of English made their ad∣dresses unto him, amongst those Sir Robert Cicill,* a very wise man, but much hated in England, by reason of the fresh bleeding of that univer∣sally beloved Earle of Essex, and for that, was clouded also in the Kings favour; he came to Yorke, but lay close, unseen, or scarce knowne to be in the City, untill he knew what entertainment he should re∣ceive Page  10 from the King; for he was in his owne, and all mens opinions, so under the Hatches, as not ever to appeare above board againe (nor did any of the Countre-faction to Essex besides himselfe, ever attaine to the Kings favour;) but those friends raised by his wit, and purse, did so co-operate (of which Sir Roger Aston, that plaine man was principall, for which he lost not his labour) that Sir George Hewme, and Sir Robert Cicill had many secret meetings, and did so comply, that Sir Robert Cicill, to the admiration of all, did appeare, and come out of his Chamber like a Giant, to run his race, for Honour, and Fortune, and who in such dearnesse, and pri∣vacy with the King as Sir Robert Ci∣cill! as if he had been his faithfull Servant many yeares before; yet did not either his Friends, wit, or wealth, raise him so much (as some beleeve) as the ill offices done by him to this Nation, in discovering Page  11 the nature of the people, and shew∣ing the King the way, how to en∣hance his Prerogative so above the Lawes, that he might inslave the Nation, which though it took well then, yet it hath been of sad and dangerous consequence in after times:

For first, He caused a whole Cart∣load of Parliament Presidents (that spake the Subjects Liberty) to be burnt:

Next, raising two hundred thou∣sand pound for making two hun∣dred Baronets, telling the King he should finde his English Subjects like Asses, on whom he might lay any burthen, and should need neither Bit, nor Bridle, but their Asses eares; And when the King said, It would discontent the generality of the Gentry: He replyed, Tush Sir, you want the money, that will doe you good, the Honour will doe them very little; And by these courses he raised himselfe, friends, and fa∣mily, Page  12 to Offices, Honours, and great Possessions; Yet as a punishment, he lived long enough to have lost all, had not Death prevented him between the Bath and London: For the Duke of Bullion being then here, (about the overture of that unfor∣tunate Match betweene the Pals∣grave, and the Lady Elizabeth) had so done his errand, and discovered his juggling; It is most certaine, he had been stript of all at his returne, which he well understanding from his Friends at Court, did expedite his end; but he dyed opportunely to save his honour, and his estate for his posterity, though to leave a marke of ignominy on himselfe by that Herodian disease, and that for all his great Honours, and Possessi∣ons, and stately Houses, he found no place but the top of a Mole-hill, neare Marleborough to end his mi∣serable life; so that it may be said of him, and truly, he dyed of a most loathsome disease, and remarkable, Page  13 without house, without pitty, without the favour of that Master that had raised him to so high an e∣state; and yet must he have this right done him (which is also a note of the misfortune of our times) there hath not been any since his time that equalled him, to fulfill the Proverbe, Seldome comes a better; he had great parts, was very wise, full of honour, and bounty, a great lover and rewarder of Virtue, and a∣ble parts in others; so they did not appeare too high in place, or looke too narrowly into his actions.

The next that came on the pub∣lick Theatre in favour, was Henry Howard, a younger Son of the Duke of Norfolke, and Lord Thomas Ho∣ward, the one after Earle of Nor∣thampton▪ the other Earle of Suffolk, Lord Chamberlaine, and after Lord Treasurer, who by Salisburies greatnesse with that Family, rather then by any merit, or wisdome in themselves, raised many great Fa∣milies Page  14 of his Children: Northampton though a great Clerke, yet not a wise man, but the grossest Flatterer of the World; and as Salisbury by his Wit, so this by his Flattery, raised himselfe; yet one great mo∣tive to the raising all of that Name of Howards was, the Duke of Nor∣folke, suffering for the Queene of Scots, the Kings Mother, yet did Suf∣folke so farre get the start of Nor∣thampton, that Northampton never af∣ter loved him but from the teeth outwards, only had so much discre∣tion as not to fall to actuall enmity, to the over-throw of both, and the weakning that faction; Suffolk also using him with all submissive re∣spect, not for any love, but hope of gaining his great estate, and sharing it amongst his Children; but Nor∣thamptons distaste was such, by his losse of the Treasurers place, which he had with such assurance promised to himselfe in his thoughts, that ex∣cept what he gave to Master Henry Page  15 Howard, the rest he gave to the Earl of Arundell, who by his observance, but more especially by giving Nor∣thampton all his Estate if he never returned from travell, had wrought himselfe so far into his affections, that he doted on him.

And now the principall managers of the English affaires were Salisbury, Suffolke, Northampton, Buckhurst, E∣gerton Lord Keeper, Worcester, and the Old Admirall; For the Scots, Sir George Hewme, now Earle of Dun∣bar, Secretary Elfeston, after Earle of Balmerino, and as wise a man as was in England, or Scotland, the Lord of Kinlosse, a very honest, but weak man.

You are now to observe, that Sa∣lisbury had shaken off all that were great with him, and of his Faction in Queene Elizabeths dayes, as Sir Walter Rawleigh, Sir George Carew, the Lord Grey, the Lord Cobham: the three first, very able men as the world had, the last, but one degree Page  16 from a foole, yet served their turnes better then a wiser man, by his greatnesse with the Queen, for they would put him on any thing, and make him tell any Lye, with as great confidence as a truth. Three of these were utterly ruined, as you shall heare in the following Dis∣course, the fourth being a very wise man, contented himselfe with a meane place, that was worthy of a much greater; and although very active formerly, called to minde this saying: Foelix quem faciunt, &c. and medled with no State busi∣nesse, his wisdome fore-telling his Fate, if he had done otherwise; for he did see one better head-peece then his owne, sit tottering at that time, and fell off afterwards, which made him think it was good sleeping in a whole skin.

The King no sooner came to London, but notice was taken of a rising Favourite, the first Meteor of that nature appearing in our cli∣mate; Page  17 as the King cast his eye up∣on him for affection, so did all the Courtiers,* to adore him, his name was Mr. James Hay, a Gentleman that lived long in France, and some say, of the Scottish Guard to that King; this Gentleman comming o∣ver to meet the King, and share with him in his new Conquest (ac∣cording to the Scots phrase) it should seeme had some former ac∣quaintance with the then Leiger Embassadour in Scotland for the French King,* who comming with his Majesty into England, presented this Gentleman (as a well accom∣plished Gentleman) to the King, in such an high commendation as engendered a liking that produced a favourite; in thankfull acknow∣ledgement whereof, he did him many faire offices for the present, and comming afterwards an extra∣ordinary Embassadour to our King, made him the most sumptuous Feast at Essex house,* that ever was seene Page  18 before, never equalled since, in which was such plenty (and Fish of that immensity, brought out of Muscovia, that Dishes were made to containe them (no Dishes in all England before could neare hold them) and after that, a costly Voy∣dee, and after that, a Maske of choyse Noble-men; and Gentle∣men, and after that, a most costly and magnificent Banquet, the King, Lords, and all the prime Gentle∣men then about London being invi∣ted thither. Truly, he was a most compleat,* aud well accomplished Gentleman, modest, and Court∣like, and of so faire a demeanour, as made him be generally beloved; and for his wisdome, I shall give you but one character for all: Hee was ever great with all the Favou∣rites of his time, and although the King did often change, yet he was semper idem with the King, and Fa∣vourites, and got by both; for al∣though Favourites had that exorbi∣tant Page  19 power over the King, to make him grace, and disgrace whom they pleased; yet he was out of their power, and the only exception to that generall rule; and for his get∣tings, it was more then almost all the Favourites of his time, which appeared in those vast expences of all sorts, and had not the bounty of his minde exceeded his gettings, he might have left the greatest estate that ever our age or climate had heard of; he was indeed made for a Courtier, who wholly studied his Master, and understood him better then any other.

He was imployed in very many of the most weighty Affaires, and sent with the most stately Embassies of our times, which he performed with that wisdome, and magnifi∣cence, that he seemed an honour to his King and Country. For his car∣riage in State-affaires, he was ter∣med by some Princes the Kings Juggler. He married the Daughter Page  20 and Heire of the Lord Denny, after the Earl of Northumberlands daugh∣ter, and was hated of none that ever I heard of, but the Earle of Nor∣thampton, who had no patience to see him, being himselfe of so vene∣mous and cankred a disposition, that indeed he hated all men of noble parts, nor loved any but Flatterers like himselfe; yet it was a great question, whether he hated the Earl of Carlisle, or Sir Robert Mansell most, by whom he hath been heard to say; Body of God, I will be content to be damned perpetually in Hell, to be revenged of that proud Welshman; and did so hate him, that he kept an Inquisition on him seven yeares, to prove that he had cousened the King of fourteen thousand pounds, which at the seven yeares end at an hearing before the King, the Lords, the Queen, and all the Ladies be∣ing present, with all the gallantry of the Court, ended in one paire of silke Stockins, given by one for a Page  21 New-yeares Gift to Master Wels, Sir Robert Mansells Servant; at which, the King stood up and sware very deeply; Doe you beleeve I will take a paire of silke Stockins for my fourteen thousand pounds? give me that, give me that; is this all the fruit of seven yeares Commission? at which words Sir Robert Mansell kneeled downe, and said, I will now Sir take all the faults they can charge my servant with, upon my selfe; at which the King was very angry, that so noble a Gentleman, who had so wel acquitted himselfe, and Honour, should intrust it in the keeping of a Servant; at the end of all, the Earle of Salisbury kneeled down, and said; Sir, if you will suffer malice so farre to prevaile, as to have your honest Ser∣vants traduced, to satisfie the humours of any, I beseech you take my staffe, for were my selfe, and the Earl of Wor∣cester here present, put in the ballance against Sir Robert Mansell, we should prove too light; I am in a great Place, Page  22 and cannot say, but by my selfe, or ser∣vants, I may faile, yet not with our own wils; therefore Sir, if you wil suffer such inquisitions, there will be no serving your Majesty, in such places as I hold, by your Majesties favour; thus ended the Earle of Northamptons malice, which only served to honour Sir Robert Mansell, and make a scorne of himselfe, and this only to make the venome of this Monster appear, who did flatter the King, and dis∣semble with God.

And now begin Embassadours to appeare from divers Princes, the principall were, Roney Duke of Sul∣lice, from the French King; the Con∣stable of Castile from the Spanish King, the Count Arremberg from the Arch Duke; the former came to congratulate only, and desired the confirmation of the ancient a∣mity betwixt the two Crownes; the latter two about the establish∣ing a firme peace betwixt these two Page  23 Kingdomes, that had lived in per∣petuall Warre, and hatred of each other, by which it might appeare where the advantage of such a peace would fall, by those that sought, or rather bought it with an infinite masse of treasure, prodigal∣ly cast about the English Court.

To bring these Embassadours o∣ver, were appointed Sir Robert Man∣sell, being Admirall of the narrow Seas, and Sir Jerome Turner his Vice-Admirall, the first comman∣ded to attend at Graveling for the Spanish Embassadour, the latter at Calis for the French; but the French comming first, and hearing the Vice-Admirall was to attend him, the Admirall the other; in a scorne put himselfe in a Passage-boat of Calis, came forth with flagge in top; instantly Sir Jerome Turner sent to know of the Admirall what he should doe; Sir Robert Mansell sent him word, to shoot, and sinke him, if he would not take in the Page  24 flag; this as it made the flag bee pulled in, so a great complaint, and 'twas beleeved it would have un∣done Sir Robert Mansell, the French Faction pressing it so home: but he maintained the act, and was the bet∣ter beloved of his Master ever after, to his dying day.

This makes it appeare how jea∣lous old Commanders were of their owne honour, and of their Masters, and Kingdomes honours, which since hath been so prodigally wast∣ed, as we are utterly bankerupt, ha∣ving spent our old Stock, and have not bravery enough to erect a new.

The Constable of Castile so plyed his Masters businesse (in which he spared for no cost) that he procu∣red a peace so advantageous for Spaine, and so disadvantageous for England, that it and all Christen∣dome have since both seen and felt the lamentable effects thereof. There was not one Courtier of note, that tasted not of SpainesPage  25 bounty, either in Gold, or Jewels and among them, not any in so large a proportion as the Countesse of Suffolke, who shared in her Lords in∣terest, being then a potent man, and in that interest which she had, in being Mistris to that little great Secretary (little in body and stature, but great in wit and policy) the sole manager of State affaires; so it may be said, she was a double sha∣rer, and in truth Audley-end, that fa∣mous and great structure, had its foundation of Spanish Gold.

The King was a peaceable and merciful Prince; yet God (for some secret intent best known to himself) laid the foundation of his reigne, with the greatest mortality ever be∣fore heard of in this Kingdome, by a fearefull Plague,* and some by that judged what his future reign would be, yet their wisdomes failed, for he was a King of mercy as well as peace, never cruell, yet surely it had some morall.

Page  26 He was forced by that contagi∣on to leave the Metropolis, and goe into a by corner in Wiltshire, Wilton the Earle of Pembrookes House, in which time of his abode there, a kinde of Treason brake forth, but what it was, as no man could then tell, so it is left with so dark a Com∣ment, that posterity will never un∣derstand the Text, or remember any such treason; it is true, some lost their lives, yet the world was never satisfied of the justice, and one of them, (and that the only marke of Tyranny upon this good Kings reigne) executed many yeares after without all president, and on my conscience without any just cause, and even against that good Kings will, who in many things was over-awed by his timorous disposition.

But the Spanish Faction, and Spa∣nish Gold betrayed his life, as they had done the Kingdome before, and I beleeve it was one of the greatest Master-peeces of that Embassa∣dour, Page  27 to purchase Rawleighs head, yet had not Bristol co-operated, the King would never have consented, and it may be he had his secret ends, fearing his wisdome might once a∣gaine have raised him, to have look∣ed over Sherborne Castle, once his owne, and how unjustly taken from him God will one day judge; I know not whether there be a curse on those that are owners of it, as Fables report, but I am confident there is a curse on Bristol for taking away his life; I will not take upon me too farre to pry into Gods Arke, yet what is like to befall him, and hath already, his Son (as hopefull a Gen∣tleman as any in the Kingdome) may give some token of Gods anger a∣gainst him and his family.

But because I will not leave you altogether blinde-folded,* I shall as neare as I can lead you to the disco∣very of this Treason, which con∣sisted of Protestants, Puritans, Pa∣pists, and of an Atheist: a strange Page  28 medley you will say, to meet in one and the same Treason, and keepe counsell, which surely they did, be∣cause they knew not of any; the Protestants were the Lord Cobham, and George Brook his Brother, the one very learned and wise, the other a most silly Lord, the Puritan the Lord Grey of VVilton, a very hope∣full Gentleman, blasted in the very Bud; the Papists VVatson, and Clarke, Priests; and Parham a Gentleman, the Atheist Sir Walter Rawleigh, then generally so beleeved, though after brought by affliction (the best School-Mistris) to be, and so dyed, a most religious Gentleman. This Treason was compounded of strange ingredients (and more strange then true) it was very true, most of these were discontented, to see Salisbury their old friend so high, to trample on them, that before had been his chiefe supporters, and (being ever of his faction) now neglected and contemned: it was then beleeved an Page  29 errand trick of State to over-throw some, and disable others, knowing their strong abilities might other∣wise live to over-throw Salisbury, for they were intimate in all his secret Councels for the ruine of Essex, especially Rawleigh, Grey, and Cobham; though the latter was a foole, yet had been very usefull to them (as the Toole in the hand of the Workman) and to have singled out these without some Priests, which were Traytors by the Law, had smelt too ranke, and appeared too poore and plaine a tricke of State; and Salisbury in this had a double benefit: First, in ridding himselfe of such as he feared would have been thornes in his sides. Se∣condly, by endearing himselfe to the King, by shewing his diligence, and vigilancy for his safety; so that it might be said of him as of Caesar in another case (Inveniam aut sa∣ciam) I will either finde out a Trea∣son or make one, and this had been Page  30 a pretty trick had it been only to disgrace, without taking away life; but how this peece of policy may stand with Religion, I feare by this time he too well understands; and this plot as neare as I can tell you (and I dare say my intelligence gave me as neare a guesse as ever any man had) was, that all these in a discon∣tented humour had by Watson, and Clarke, being Confessors, dealt with Count Aremberge, the Arch Dukes Embassadour, to negotiate with the Arch Duke to raise an Army, and invade England, and they would raise another of Papists, and Male-contents to joyne: for you must un∣derstand the King was beleeved an errand Puritan, (Cujus contrarium verum est) how likely this Plot was, let the world judge, that the King of Spaine, who had bought peace at so deare a rate, and found it so advan∣tageous to him, by the lamentable experience he had formerly in the Wars with this formidable State, Page  31 should seek to breake it so soone: and had it been a reall Treason, the State had been bound to have re∣warded these Traytors, as the best peece of service done in England all that Kings reigne (it was indeed those that made the Peace, not those that endeavoured the break∣ing of it, were the Traytors, and are to be cursed by all Posterity) yet this foolish Plot served well enough to take some blocks out of the way, that might afterward have made some of them stumble, to the break∣ing of their owne necks.

They were all Arraigned of Trea∣son at Winchester, whither the King having sent some secretly to observe all passages, upon whose true and faithfull relations of the innocen∣cies of the Persons Arraigned, and the sleight proofes, upon which they were condemned: he would not be drawne to signe any Warrant for the execution of Rawleigh, Cobham, and Grey, very hardly for any of Page  32 the rest, the two Priests excepted.

For Rawleighs defence, it was so brave and just, as (had he not wil∣fully cast himselfe, out of very wearinesse, as unwilling to detaine the company longer) no Jury could ever have cast him; all the Evi∣dence brought against him was Cob∣hams Accusation, which he only desired might appeare (viva voce) and he would yeeld without fur∣ther defence, but that they knew ful well Cobham would not, nor could not accuse him, having been tam∣pered with by Wade, then Lieute∣nant of the Tower, and Salisburies great Creature; Wade desired it under his hand, that also he refused, at last Wade got a trick by his cun∣ning, to surprize Cobhams weaknesse, to get him write his name to a Blank, to which, Wade, no question, wrote the accusation, as will ap∣peare hereafter; for Salisbury urg∣ing Rawleigh often, if Cobham had accused him under his hand, would Page  33 he then yeeld? Rawleigh replyed, He knew Cobham weake of judge∣ment, and did not know how that weaknesse might be wrought upon, but was confident he would not to his face accuse him, and therefore would not put his life, fortune, and all on that; at which fence he stood til nine at night: at last his fate car∣ried him against his reason, and he yeelded upon the producing his hand, which was instantly pulled out, and was in truth his hand, but not his act, or deed: so at that pre∣sent was George Brooke, Watson, and Clarke executed, Parham acquitted, and Sir Walter Rawleigh executed many yeares after for the same trea∣son, as much against all justice, as beyond all reason, or any president: yea after he had been a Generall by the Kings Commission, and had by that, power of the Lives of many o∣thers, utterly against the Civill Law, which saith, He that hath power of the Lives of others, ought to be Ma∣ster Page  34 of his owne. But the Spaniard was so powerfull at that time in Court, as that Faction could command the life of any man that might prove dangerous to his designes; Grey and Cobham dyed in their restraint, the one much pittied, the other scor∣ned, and his death as base, for hee dyed lousie for want of Apparrell, and Linnen; and had starved, had not a Trencher-scraper, sometime his Servant in Court, releived him with scraps, in whose house he dy∣ed, being so poore a house as he was forced to creep up a Ladder into a little hole to his Chamber; which was a strange judgement, and un∣presidented, that a man of seven thousand pounds per annum, and of a personall estate of thirty thousand pounds, of all which the King was so cheated of what should have Es∣cheated to him, that he could not give him any maintenance, as in all cases the King doth, unlesse out of his owne Revenue of the Crown, Page  35 which was the occasion of this Lords want, (his Wife being very rich, would not give him the crums that fell from her Table;) and this was a just judgement of God on him.

And now, because it will be per∣tinent in this place to let you under∣stand, that Rawleigh had his life sur∣repticiously taken away, I shall give you a true story.

Queen Anne, that brave Princesse, was in a desperate (and some be∣leeved an incurable) Disease, whereof the Phisitians were at the furthest end of their studies to finde the cause, at a Non-plus for the Cure; Sir Walter Rawleigh, being by his long studies an admirable Chymist, undertooke, and performed the Cure, for which he would receive no other reward, but that her Ma∣jesty would procure that certaine Lords might be sent to examine Cobham, whether he had accused Sir Walter Rawleigh of Treason at Page  36 any time under his hand; the King, at the Queens request (and in Ju∣stice could doe no lesse) sends six Lords, (which I take were, the Duke of Leonox, Salisbury, Worcester, Suffolke, Sir George Carew, and Sir Julius Caesar) to demand of Cobham, whether he had not under his hand accused Sir Walter Rawleigh at Win∣chester, upon that Treason he was Arraigned for; Cobham did protest, never, nor could he; but, said he, That Villaine Wade did often soli∣cite me, and not prevailing that way, got me by a trick to write my name upon a peece of white Paper; which I, thinking nothing, did, so that if any Charge came under my hand, it was forged by that Vil∣laine Wade, by writing something above my hand without my consent or knowledge. These six returning to the King, the rest made Salisbury their Spokes-man, who said, Sir, my Lord Cobham hath made good all that ever hee wrote, or said. Page  37 Where it is to be noted, that this was but an equivocating tricke in Salisbury; for it was true, that Cob∣ham had made good whatever hee had writ (that being but in truth to very nothing) but never wrote he any thing to accuse Rawleigh; by which you may see the basenesse of these Lords, the credulity of the King, and the ruine of Sir Walter Rawleigh. I appeale now to the judgement of all the world, whether these six Lords were not the imme∣diate Murtherers of Sir Walter Raw∣leigh, and no question shall be called to a sad account for it.

And thus have you a true relati∣on of the Treason, and Traytors, with all the windings and turnings in it, and all passages appertaining to it; and by it you may see the slavery these great men were in∣slaved in by Salisbury, that none durst testifie such a truth, as the not testifying, lost their most precious Soules.

Page  38 And now doth the King returne to Windsor, where there was only an apparition of Southamptons being a Favourite to his Majesty, by that privacy and dearnesse was presented to the Court-view; but Salisbury (liking not that any of Essex his fa∣ction should come into play) made that apparition appeare as it were in transitu, and so vanished, by put∣ting some jealousies into the Kings head, who was so farre from jea∣lousie, that he did not much de∣sire to be in his Queenes company, yet love and regality must admit of no partnership.

Then was there in requitall of the Spanish Embassadours, two stately Embassies addressed, the one to Spaine, the other to the Arch Duke, to have that peace they so dearly purchased confirmed, and sworne to by ours, as formerly by them; the old Lord Admirall was sent to Spaine, the Earle of Hartford for Bruxels, that the Duke of LeonoxPage  39 might have the better opportunity. The Spaniard was astonied at the bravenesse of our Embassie, and the handsome Gentlemen (in both which, few Embassies ever equal∣led this) for you must understand the Iesuites reported our Nation to be ugly, and like Devils, as a punish∣ment sent to our Nation for casting off the Popes supremacy; and they pictured Sir Francis Drake general∣ly halfe a Man, halfe a Dragon; When they beheld them after the shape of Angels, they could not well tell whether to trust their own eyes, or their Confessors reports, yet they then appeared to them, as to all the world, monstrous Lyers.

The Embassadour had his recep∣tion with as much state, as his en∣tertainment with bounty, the King defraying all charges, and they were detained at their Landing longer then ordinary, to have provisions prepared in their passage to Madrid, with all the bounty was possible, to Page  40 make the whole Country appeare a Land of Canaan, which was in truth, but a Wildernesse.

In their abode there, although they gave them Roast-meat, yet they beat them with the spits, by reporting that the English did steale all the Plate, when in truth it was themselves, who thought to make Hay while the Sunne shined, not thinking ever more to come to such a Feast, to fill their purses as wel as their bellyes▪ (for food and coyne are equally alike scarce with that Nation) this report passed for cur∣rant, to the infinite dishonour of our Nation, there being at that time the prime gallantry of our Na∣tion.

Sir Robert Mansell, who was a man borne to vindicate the Honour of his Nation, as of his owne, being Vice-Admirall, and a man on whom the old Admirall wholly relyed, having dispatched the Ships to be gone the next morning, came in Page  41 very late to Supper; Sir Richard Levison sitting at the upper end of the Table amongst the Grandees, the Admirall himselfe not supping that night, being upon the dispatch of Letters, the Table upon Sir Ro∣bert Mansells entrance offered to rise, to give him place: But he sat down instantly at the lower end, and would not let any man stirre, and falling to his meat, did espy a Spa∣niard, as the Dishes emptied, ever putting some in his bosome, some in his breeches, that they both strut∣ted: Sir Robert Mansell sent a Mes∣sage to the upper end of the table to Sir Richard Levison to be delive∣red in his eare, that whatsoever he saw him doe, he should desire the Gentlemen and Grandees to sit qui∣et, for there should be no cause of any disquiet; on the sudden, Sir Robert Mansell steps up, takes this Spaniard in his armes, (at which the table began to rise; Sir Rich∣ard Levison quiets them,) brings Page  42 him up to the end amongst the Grandees, then pulls out the Plate from his bosome, breeches, and eve∣ry part about him, which did so a∣maze the Spaniard, and vindicate that aspersion cast on our Nation, that never after was there any such syllable heard, but all honour done to the Nation, and all thanks to him in particular.

From thence, next day they went for Madrid, where all the royall en∣tertainment Spain could yeeld was given them, and at the end of the Grand entertainment and Revells, which held most part of the night, as they were all returning to their Lodgings, the street being made light by white Wax lights, and the very night forced into a day, by shining light, as they were passing in the street, a Spaniard catcheth off Sir Robert Mansells Hat, with a very rich jewell in it, and away he flyes; Sir Robert not being of a spirit to have any thing violently ta∣ken Page  43 from him, nor of such a Court-like complement, to part with a jewell of that price, to one no bet∣ter acquainted with him, hurls o∣pen the Boote, followes after the fellow, and some three Gentlemen did follow him, to secure him, houseth the Fellow in the house of an Allagozy, which is a great Of∣ficer, or Judge in Spaine; this Of∣ficer wondering at the manner of their comming, the one without his hat and sword in his hand, the other with all their swords; De∣mands the cause, They tell him; He saith, surely none can think his house a sanctuary, who is to punish such offenders.

But Sir Robert Mansell would not be so put off with his Spanish gravi∣ty, but enters the House, leaving two at the Gate, to see that none should come out whiles he search∣ed; A long while they could finde nothing, and the Allagozy urging this as an affront, at last, looking Page  44 downe into a Wel of a smal depth, he saw the fellow stand up to the neck in Water: Sir Robert Mansell seized on his Hat, and Jewell, leav∣ing the fellow to the Allagozy, but he had much rather have fingered the Jewell, aud in his gravity told Sir Robert Mansell, hee could not have it without forme of Law, which Sir Robert dispensed with, carrying away his Hat, and Jewell, and never heard further of the bu∣sinesse; now the truth was, this fellow knew his Burrough well e∣nough, as well as some Theeves of our Nation, after they have done a Robbery, would put themselves in∣to a Prison of their acquaintance, assuring themselves none would search there, or rather as our Recor∣ders of London, whose cheif revenue for themselves, and servants, is from Theeves, Whores, and Bawds, therefore this story cannot seeme strange in England.

The other Embassadour sent to Page  45 the Arch Duke, was, the old Earle of Hertford, who was conveyed over in one of the Kings Ships, by Sir William Munson, in whose passage a Dutch Man of Warre comming by that ship, would not vaile, as the manner was, acknowledging by that, our Soveraignty over the Sea, Sir William Munson gave him a shot to instruct him in manners, but instead of learning, he taught him by retur∣ning another, he acknowledged no such Soveraignty; this was the very first indignity and affront ever offe∣red to the Royall Ships of England, which since have beene most fre∣quent; Sir William Monson desired my Lord of Hertford to goe into the Hold, and hee would instruct him by stripes, that refused to be taught by faire meanes; but the Earl char∣ged him on his Allegiance first to land him, on whom he was appoin∣ted to attend; so to his great re∣gret, he was forced to endure that indignity, for which I have often Page  46 heard him wish he had been han∣ged, rather then live that unfortu∣nate Commander of a Kings Ship, to be Chronicled for the first that ever endured that affront, although it was not in his power to have helped it; yet by his favour, it ap∣peared but a copy of his counte∣nance, for it had been but hazar∣ding hanging to have disobeyed my Lords Commandement, and it had been infinite odds he had not beene hanged, having to friend him, the House of Suffolke; nor would hee have been so sensible of it, had he not been of the Spanish Faction, and that a Dutch ship.

Now did those great Mannagers of the State (of which Salisbury was chief) after they had packed the Cards begin to deale the govern∣ment of the Kingdome amongst themselves, and perswaded the King to leave the State affaires to them, and to betake himselfe to some Country recreations, which they Page  47 found him addicted unto, for the City, and businesse, did not agree with him; to that end purchased, built, and repaired at New-Market, and Royston, and this pleased the Kings humour well, rather that he might enjoy his Favourite with more privacy, then that he loved the sports; then must Theobolds be in his owne possession, as not fit for a King to be beholding to a Subject for an House of daily use, but be∣cause the King had so much want of monies (to expresse his love, and bounty to his Native Nation) Sa∣lisbury would exchange, and take Land for his House, and Parke; in which exchange, he made such an advantage, that he sold his House for fifty yeares purchase, and that so cunningly, as hardly to be discer∣ned, but by a curious sight, for he fleeted off the Creame of the Kings Mannours in many Counties, not any two lying in any one County, and made choyce of the most in the Page  48 remotest Counties, onely built his nest at Hatfield, within the County where his Father had built his, yet kept he still the house of Theobolds, for he and his posterity were to be perpetuall Keepers of that House, and many Parkes adjacent; by this he not onely shewed his wisdome for his owne benefit, but to the world what the Kings naturall dis∣position was, to bee easily abused, and would take counterfeit Coyn for currant payment.

And to fit the Kings humour, and dissolve him in that delight he was most addicted to, as well as to serve Salisburies owne ends, and sa∣tisfie his revenge upon some neigh∣bour Gentlemen, that formerly would not sell him some conveni∣ent parcels of Land neighbouring on Theobalds, he puts the King on enlarging the Parke, walling, and storing it with red Deere; and I dare affirme, with that worke the King was so well pleased, and did Page  49 more glory in, then his Predecessors did in the conquest of France; and as it was most true, so an ill Omen, that the King loved Beasts better then Men, and took more delight in them, and was more tender o∣ver the life of a Stag then of a Man; yet this was the weaknesse of his judgement, and poorenesse of his Spirit, rather then any innate cru∣elty, for he was not naturally cruel over lives, though in displacing Officers, which naturally he did be∣leeve, was as glorious, as to over-throw, and conquer Kings.

But yet for all their setting their Cards, and playing their Games to their owne advantages, of get∣ting much for themselves, and friends, there was one Knave in the Packe, would crosse their designs, and Trump in their way, if he might not share with them in their win∣ning; that was one Lake, a Clerke of the Signet, after, Secretary, and after that turned out in disgrace; Page  50 and in truth, was onely wise in the worlds opinion, could swim being held up by the chin; but at his fall all his weaknesses were discovered: and that the world had been decei∣ved in him, I will instance in one particular amongst many, that shall give you full assurance; being in disgrace, he gave two thousand pounds but to kisse the Kings hand, beleeving that after that, he might have accesse as formerly; after he had paid his money, he was never suffered to see the King more, only jeered at by all the Court for his folly, and went sneaking up and downe contemned of all men.

This Lake was a fellow of meane birth, and meaner breeding, being an under Servant to make Fires in Secretary Walsinghams chamber, and there got some experience, which afterwards in the Kings time made him appeare an able man, which in the Queenes time, when there was none in Court but men of eminen∣cies, Page  51 made him an inconsiderable Fellow. He had linked himselfe in with the Scotish Nation, progging for Suits, and helping them to fill their Purses; as they did beleeve, there was not so able a man in the Kingdome (for in truth ever since Queene Elizabeths death, the ray∣sing money hath been the only way to raise men, as being held the es∣sentiall property of a wise man, to know how to bring in money (per fas aut nefas) and amongst all the Scots, he wholly applyed himselfe to those of the Bed-chamber, and of nearest accesse to his Majesty.

For his good service of abusing his Country, and Country-men, he was made Clerke of the Signet, to waite on the King in his Hunting journies, and in these journies got all the Bils signed, even for the greatest Lords (all Packets being addressed to him) so that even Sa∣lisbury; and Northampton, and the greatest Lords made Court to him; Page  52 by this meanes did he raise himselfe from a meane to a great fortune, but so over-awed by his VVife, that if hee did not what she comman∣ded, she would beate him, and in truth his Wife was afterwards his over-throw; besides, he would tell Tales, and let the King know the passages of Court, and great men, as who was Salisburies Mistris, and go∣verned all; who governed Northamp∣ton, and discovered their Bawdery, which did infinitely please the Kings humour: and in truth had so much craft, as he served his turne upon all, but was ingrossed by none but by the Bed-chamber, who stuck so close to him, that they could not yet remove him. And now doe the English Faction (seeing they could not sever the Scots from him) en∣deavour to raise a mutiny against the Scots that were his supporters, their Agents divulging every where, the Scots would get all, and would begger the Kingdom; the Scots on Page  53 the other side complaine to the King, they were so poore, they un∣der-went the by-word of beggerly Scots; to which the King returned this answer (as he had a very ready wit) Content your selves, I will shortly make the English as begger∣ly as you, and so end that contro∣versie; this is as true as he truly performed it, for however he en∣riched many in particular, as Salis∣bury, Suffolke, Northampton, Worcester, Lake, &c. yet he did begger himself, and the Nation in generall.

This also was inculcated into the eares of the Parliament, when that great businesse about the union was in debate, which was much crossed by that opinion; if they had al∣ready impoverished the kingdome, by the union, they would bankerupt it. But since, you see by their owne valour and bravery of spirit, they have made us begge a re-union with them, and for ought we see, all our happines is derived from their fa∣vours.

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Page  54 They that then lived at Court, and were curious observers of every mans actions, could have affirmed, that Salisbury, Suffolke, and Nor∣thampton, and their friends did get more then the whole Nation of Scotland (Dunbar excepted) for whatever others got, they spent here, only Dunbar laid a founda∣tion of a great Family, which did all revert into England againe, with his Daughters marriage with the House of Suffolke, so in truth, all the water run to their Mills.

It is most true, that many Scots did get much, but not more with one hand, then they spent with the other, witnesse the Earle of Kelly, Annandale, &c. nay, that great Getter, the Earle of Carlisle also, and some private Gentlemen; as Gideon Murrey, John Achmoty, James Baily, John Gib, and Bernard Lindley, got some pretty estates, not worthy ei∣ther the naming or envying, that old Servants should get some mo∣derate Page  55 estates to leave to posterity.

But 〈◊〉, and all the Scots in ge∣nerall, got scarce the Tythe of those English Getters, that can be said did stick by them, or their posterity; besides, Salisbury had one tricke to get the kernell, and leave the Scots but the shell, yet cast all the envie on them; He would make them buy Bookes of Fee-farmes, some one hundred pounds per annum, some one hundred Markes, and he would com∣pound with them for a thousand pounds, which they were willing to embrace, because they were sure to have them passe without any controle, or charge, and one thou∣sand pounds appeared to them that never saw ten pounds before, an inexhaustible treasure; then would Salisbury fill up this Booke with such prime Land, as should be worth ten or twenty thousand pounds, which was easie for him, be∣ing Treasurer, so to doe; and by this meanes Salisbury inriched him∣selfe

Page  56 infinitely, yet cast the envie on the Scots, in whose names these Bookes appeared, and are still upon Record to all posterity; though Sa∣lisbury had the Honey, they poore Gentlemen but part of the Wax; Dunbar only had his Agents, and could play his owne game, which they durst not crosse; so was the poore King and State cheated on all hands.

And now did a contention arise between the English and Scots, about the election of a Favourite, out of whether Nation he should come; now was Montgomery in the wane, being given more to his own plea∣sures, then to observe the King, so that alway the Earle of Carliste did invest him in his roome; he as soon by his neglective carriage did devest himselfe, yet was he ever in the Kings good opinion, and one that he put more trust in at the time of his death, then in all his other ser∣vants.

Page  57 Then was there a young Gentle∣man,* Master Robert Carre, who had his breeding in France, and was new∣ly returned from Travaile, a Gen∣tleman very handsome, and well bred, and one that was observed to spend his time in serious studies, and did accompany himselfe with none but men of such eminencies, as by whom hee might be bette∣red; this Gentleman, the Scots so wrought it, that they got him into a Groomes place of the Bed-cham∣ber, and was very well pleasing to all; he did more then any other Associate himself, with Sir Thomas Overbury, a man of excellent parts, (but those made him proud, over-valuing himselfe, and under-valuing others, and was infected with a kinde of insolency) with this Gen∣tleman spent he most of his time, and drew the eyes of the Court, as well as the affection of his Master upon him, yet very few, but such as were the curious observers of those Page  58 times could discerne the drawing of the Kings affection▪ 〈◊〉 upon a Coronation day, riding in with the Lord Dingwell to the Tilt-yard, his horse fell with him, and brake his legge, he was instantly carried into Master Riders house at Charing-crosse, and the newes as instantly carried to the King, having little de∣sire to behold the triumph, but much desired to have it ended, and no sooner ended, but the King went instantly to visite him, and after by his daily visiting, and mourning o∣ver him, taking all care for his speedy recovery, made the day∣breake of his glory appeare, every Courtier now concluding him, actu∣ally a favourite.

Lord! how the great men flock∣ed then to see him, and to offer to his Shrine in such abundance, that the King was forced to lay a re∣straint, least it might retard his re∣covery by spending his spirits; and to facilitate the cure, care was taken Page  59 for a choyce Dyet for himselfe, and Chirurgions, with his Attendants, and no sooner recovered but a pro∣claimed Favourite.

Then the English Lords, who for∣merly coveted an English Favou∣rite (and to that end the Countesse of Suffolke did looke out choyce young men, whom she daily curled, and perfuming their breaths) left all hope, and she her curling and perfuming, all adoring this rising Sun, every man striving to invest himselfe into this mans favour (not sparing for bounty nor flattery) which was not hard to be obtained, being naturally more addicted to the English then to the Scotch, in so much that he endeavoured to for∣get his native Country, and his Fa∣thers house, having none of note a∣bout him but English, and but one besides English, in any familiarity with him, which was Sir Robert Carre his Kins-man; but above all, was Sir Thomas Overbury his Pythias.Page  60 Then was the strife between Salis∣bury and Suffolke, who shonld in∣grosse him, and make him their Mo∣nopoly; each presenting, proffer∣ing, and accumulating favours up∣on Overburyes Kindred, the Father made a Iudge in Wales, and himselfe offered Offices; but Overbury, natu∣rally of an insolent spirit, which was elevated by being so intimate with a Favourite, and wholly having in∣grossed that commodity, which could not be retayled, but by him and his favour; with a kind of scorn neglected their friendships, yet made use of both.

Now was Carre Knighted,* and made Gentleman of the Bed-cham∣ber, and Overburies pride rose with the others honours, still scorning the Chapmen, as they did by their cheap offices undervalue so precious a commodity.

Northampton finding himself neg∣lected by so mean a fellow,* cast a∣bout another way, and followed Page  61Balaams councell, by sending a Mo∣abitish Woman unto him, in which he made use of Copinger a Gentle∣man, who had spent a faire fortune left by his Ancestors, and now for maintenance, was forced to lead the life of a Serving-man (that for∣merly kept many to serve him) and as an addition, the worst of that kind, a flat Bawd.

This Gentleman had lived a scan∣dalous life, by keeping a Whore of his own, which for the honour of her Family I will not name, there∣fore was fittest to trade in that com∣modity for another, and in truth was fit to take any impression basenesse could stamp on him, as the sequell of this story will manifest; This Moabitish woman, was a Daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, married to a young noble Gentleman the Earl of Essex.

This Train took, and the first pri∣vate meetings were at Copingers house, and himselfe Bawd to their Page  62 lust, which put him into a far grea∣ter bravery for a time▪ then when he was master of his owne, but i had bitternesse on all hands in the end. This privacy in their stoln plea∣sures, made Copinger a friend to Nor∣thampton, and Suffolk, though but a Servant to Viscount Rochester, for so now was he called, and now had they linked him so close, as no breaking from them.

Overbury was that John Baptist that reprooved the Lord, for the sinne of using the Lady, and abusing the young Earle of Essex; would call her Strumpet, her mother and bro∣ther Bawds, and used them with so much scorne, as in truth was not to bee indured from a fellow of his Rank; to persons of that quality, how faulty soever otherwise they were.

Then to satisfie Overbury, and blot out the name of Sin, his love led him into a more desperate way by a resolution to marry another Page  63 mans wife, against this then did O∣verbury bellow lowder, and in it, shewed himselfe more like an affe∣ctionate, then a discreet & moderate friend: had he compounded but one dram of discretion with an ounce of affection, he might with such a re∣ceipt, have preserved his owne life, and their fortunes and honors.

For, those that infinitely hated that Family, did as infinitely con∣demn his insolent carriage and be∣haviour towards them; so that had any of those Brothers, or name, kil∣led Overbury, either by picking a quarrell with him, or pistolling him, or any other desperate way, or brave∣ly in a Duell, upon some other ground of a quarrell, then blemish∣ing their Sister; the World would have justified the action, however he had stood with God; but Bucha∣nans character of that Family bars all expectation of so much bravery of spirit; but a Counsell must be held to put him to death by some baser means.

Page  64 The Plot them must be,* he must be sent a Leidger Embassadour into France, which by obeying, they should bee rid of so great an eye-sore, by disobeying, he incurred the displeasure of his Prince; a con∣tempt, that he could not expect lesse then imprisonment for, and by that means be sequestred from his friend.

And thus far I do beleeve the Earl of Somerset, (for so was hee now created) was consenting; this stra∣tagem tooke, and Overbury might truly say Video meliora, deteriora se∣quor: for he indeed made the worst choyce; it could not be thought, but such an imployment was far a∣bove his desert, and much better for him to have accepted then to bee confined to a loathsome Prison, and for want of judgement, had his sufferings been lesse then losse of life he had not bin worthy of pity; but, Jupiter quos vult perdere, hos dementat; hee would to the Tower, from whence he never returned, rather Page  65 then accept of an honourable im∣ployment, from whence he might not only have returned, but done his friends acceptable service, either in private, or publick.

In his managing of this businesse, that wisdome of his which former∣ly he had been esteemed for, suffer∣ed under the censure of Wise men, as well as Fooles. Having him now fast in Prison; Herodias by pleasing her Herod must also aske, and have his life; for, per scelus ad scelera tutior est via. To that end they preferred Empoysoners to be servants to Sir Gervase Elwayes then Lieutenant of the Tower; The Gentleman was ever held wise, and honest, but un∣fortunate in having this place thrust upon him without his thought; he was also so religious, that few in the Court did equall him; so wise, as he obtained the Character of wise Sir Gervase Elwayes, yet neither could his wisdom, nor the opinion of his Religion and honesty, prevent that Page  66 Fate, he was so ignorant of the plot, as he never did dreame of any such matter; untill one day (as it should seem) Weston being told, Elwayes did know wherefore he was preferred unto him, to waite on Overbury; he asked the Lieutenant one day be∣fore dinner whether he should now doe it, Elwayes asked him, what? Weston at that being somewhat a∣bashed, Elwayes espying it, present∣ly said, no not yet; for he did be∣leeve there was something knowne to Weston, which was a secret to himselfe. Whereupon, Elwayes could not chew any meat, for chew∣ing upon those words of Weston, but instantly commanded his Table to be voyded, and thence he went in∣to his Study, and sent for Weston to come unto him, examining him of the meaning of that question; at last by faire meanes, and threatning together, got the truth; then El∣wayes (as he well could) laid before Weston the horridnesse of the Fact, Page  67 the torments of Hell, and the unas∣surance of his momentary inioying of either reward or favour after the Fact done, but that it must follow so many Personages of Honour, would never cabinet such a secret in his breast, that might ruine them; at last made him so sensible of his danger in this life; but more sensible of the torments in the other, that We∣ston falling on his knees, said; O Lord, how good and gracious art thou, and thy mercy is above all thy workes; for this day is salvation come to my soul, and I would not for all the world have had such a sinne upon me; giving the Lieutenant humble thanks, that had been the instrument of saving his soul, by putting him off from so foul intentions.

The Lieutenant having now thus renewed grace in him, by making him (as he thought) a new man; said, thou and I have a dangerous part to act, yet be honest and true to me, and I doubt not, but with Page  68 Gods help, we shall perform it wel, both before God and the World; Weston faithfully promised him, and for a long time as faithfully perfor∣med with him; the Lieutenant wil∣led him, to bring all such things as were sent him (to give Overbury) unto him, which he accordingly did; the Lieutenant gave them to Cats and Dogs which he ever had ready in his study for that purpose; some died presently, some lay lingering a longer time: all the Jellies and Tarts sent to Overbury, hee cast into his Privy, they destaining the very Di∣shes,

This continued long, the Earle of∣ten sending to visit Overbury, assur∣ing him he did not forget his release, which would not be long deferred, wherein most men did verily be∣leeve he meant both nobly and tru∣ly, though others conjectured his meaning was a dissolution: At last the Countesse sent for Weston, revi∣ling him, and calling him, Treache∣rous Page  69 Villaine, for had he given those things sent, Overbury had not been now alive; vowing, she would be revenged on him; upon the very fear whereof, he then gave those poysons after sent, without acquain∣ting the Lieutenant; yet for all this schooling of Weston, and his assurance given of his future fidelity to the Countesse, she would not trust him single any more, but put another Co-adjutor to him, one Franklin, a verier Villain then Weston, and truly they themselves may be deemed ve∣ry ill, that could seek out such wick∣ed instruments.

These two Villains, out of a de∣sire to see the successe of their hel∣lish imployment, comming shortly after it, into Overburyes chamber, found him in infinite torment, with contention between the strength of Nature and the working of the Poyson, and it being very like Na∣ture had gotten the better in that contention, by the thrusting out of Page  70 boyls, botches, and blains, they fearing it might come to light, up∣on the judgement of Phisitians, that foul play had been offered him, consented to stifle him with the Bed-cloathes, which accordingly was performed, and so ended he his miserable life, with the assurance of the Conspirators, that he dyed by poyson; none thinking (much lesse knowing) otherwise, but these two Murtherers.

Now was all (as they beleeved) quiet, and in the depth of security, and the Earl and Countesse began to carry their loves more openly and impudently: But, they understand∣ing that the world did talke very loudly, and broadly of this adulte∣rous meeting; it must (from that ground) proceed to an adulterous Marriage, as well to the wronging a young Noble man, as to the disho∣nour and shame of themselves; But they must needs goe whom the Devill drives: yet know they not how, Page  71 and somely to effect this, but by making the King a Party in this baw∣dy businesse, which was no hard mat∣ter to effect; for the Kings eye be∣gan to wander after a new Favou∣rite, being satiated with the old; therefore for the bringing this baw∣dery to a marriage, the Bishops must be principall actors (as I know not in what bad action they would not be lookerson,) and the Bishop of Winchester, an excellent Civilian, and a very great Scholler, must be the principal, for which his Son was Knighted, and will never lose that by-title of Sir Nullity Bilson.

For, by a nullity of the first Mar∣riage, must the second take place; For the canvasing whereof, there were many meetings of the Bishops and the prime Civillians, in which there wanted no bribes from the Lord, Lady, and their Friends, to have this nullity brought to passe, wherein the discourse would have better befitted the mouths of Page  72 Bawds and Ruffians, then the grave Divines; among them▪ Bishop Neal, (then Bishop of Rochester, a Creature and Favourite of the house of Suf∣folke) took up a learned discourse in the Science of Bawdery, how ma∣ny degrees in that Science must pro∣duce a Nullity, wherein were so many beastly expressions, as for mo∣desty sake I will not recite them, being offensive to my very thoughts and memory; Aristotles Problemes was a modest discourse to his, and he appeared to be better studied in that, then in Divinity, and to wind up his learned Discourse, conclu∣ded, all those met in this Lord, (meaning Essex) and this Lady.

The Arch-Bishop of Canterbury Abbot, to his everlasting fame, mainly opposed all the procee∣dings, and protested against them, for which he ever after lived in disgrace, excluded from the Coun∣cell Table, and dyed in the disgrace of the King on Earth, though in Page  73 favour with the King of Kings.

Yet, forsooth, to make up the ful measure of Bawdery, and to justifie Neales Discourse, that all things in the former Marriage conduced to a nullity; a search must be made, to finde whether there had been a pe∣netration, and a Jury of grave Ma∣trons were found fit for that pur∣pose, with their Spectacles, ground, to lessen, not to make the letter lar∣ger; who after their inspection gave their (false) verdict, that she was intacta virgo: which was thought very strange, for the World tooke notice that her way was very neare beaten, so plaine, as by regia via, and in truth so it was, and a way more common than that, before So∣merset did ever travell that way; be∣sides, the World tooke notice they two had long lived in Adultery, yet had this old Kettle a trick for that also.

The Lady of Essex, for modesty sake, makes humble suit to the re∣verend Page  74 bawdy Bishops, (who were also plotters in this stratagem) that she might not appeare bare-faced, for blushing; but desired to come vailed, with a Taffity over her face; this by all meanes was thought so reasonable (for a pretty modest Lady) that the bawdy Bishops, and pur-blinde Ladies, which had for∣gotten modesty themselves, could not thinke it worthy the deniall; one Mistris Fines, neare Kinswo∣man to old Kettle, was dressed up in the Countesses Cloathes, at that time too young to bee other then virgo intacta, though within two yeares after▪ had the old Ladyes made their inspection, the orifice would not have appeared so small, to have delivered such a verdict as they did (and a just one) upon their views: though upon some of their knowledges it was not that Lady they were to give verdict upon; if any make doubt of the truth of this Story, the Author delivers upon the Page  75 reputation of a Gentleman, he had it verbatim from a Knight, (other∣wise of much Honour,* though the very dependency on that Family may question it) which did usher the Lady into the place of inspecti∣on, and hath told it often to his friends in mirth.

Now is the Nullity pronounced, and the Marriage with Somerset with speed solemnized, for which they and the whole Family of Suf∣folke paid deare in after time; and had sowre sauce to that sweet meat of their great Son in Law

And surely he was the most un∣fortunate man in that marriage, be∣ing as generally beloved for him∣selfe, and disposition, as hated af∣terwards for his linking himselfe in that Family; for in all the time of this mans favour, before this Mar∣riage, he did nothing obnoxious to the State, or any base thing for his private gaine, but, whether it was his owne nature that curbed Page  76 him, or that there was then a brave Prince living, and a noble Queene that did awe him, we cannot so ea∣sily judge, because after this Mar∣riage, and their death, he did many very ill things.

In this Favourites flourishing time, came over the Palsgrave to marry our Kings Daughter, which for the present, gave much content, and with the generall applause; yet it proved a most unfortunate Match to him and his Posterity, and all Christendome; for his Alliance with so many great Princes, put on him aspiring thoughts, and so am∣bitious was he as not to content himselfe with his hereditary Patri∣mony of one of the greatest Princes in Germany; but must aspire to a Kingdome, beleeving that his great allyance would carry him through any enterprise, or bring him off with honour, in both which he fai∣led; being cast out of his owne Country with shame, and he and Page  77 his, ever after, living upon the de∣votion of other Princes; but had his Father in Law spent halfe the mony in Swords he did in words, (for which he was but scorned) it had kept him in his owne inheri∣tance, and saved much Christian blood since shed; but whiles hee, being wholly addicted to peace, spent much treasure, in sending cost∣ly Embassadours to treat his Ene∣mies (which he esteemed friends) might have sent Armies with a lesse charge, to conquer, so that it may be concluded, that this then thought the most happy Match in Christen∣dome, was the greatest unhappines to Christendome, themselves and Posterity.

And, as if to fore-tell the sad e∣vent, presently after the Gallantry and triumphing of that Marriage, the Kingdome was clad all in mour∣ning, for the sad obsequies of that most hopefull Prince Henry, who dyed not without vehement suspici∣on Page  78 of Poyson, and I wish I could say but suspicion only; but our future discourse will tell you otherwise: He was only shewed to this Nation, as the Land of Canaan was to Mo∣ses, to look on, not to enjoy: wee did indeed joy in that happinesse we expected in him, but God found us so unthankfull, and tooke so lightly the death of that ever fa∣mous Queen Elizabeth, as hee in∣tended, to make us an example of scorne now, that were formerly, of all glory.

His death was fore-told by one Bruce,* a most famous Astrologer of the Scottish Nation, for which the Earle of Salisbury (a great States∣man) caused him to be banished, who left this fare-well with the Earl, that it should be too too true, yet his Lordship should not live to see it, the Earle dying in May, the Prince in November following, to the infinite griefe of all the King∣dome; but the Earle of Somerset and Page  79 Family of Howards, who by his death thought themselves secured from all future dangers; for, he be∣ing a Prince of an open heart, ha∣ting all basenesse, would often say, If ever he were King, he would not leave one of that Family to pisse a∣gainst a wall.

This brave Prince being dead, Somerset and that Faction bare all downe before them, disposing of all offices; yet Somerset never turned any out (as did the succeeding favou∣rite) but places being voyd, he dis∣posed of them, and who would give most, was the word, yet not by So∣merset himselfe, but by his Lady and her Family; for he was naturally of a noble disposition, and it may be justly said of him, that never could be said of any before, or ever will be of any after him; He never got suite for himselfe or friends that was burthensome to the Common-wealth, no Monopolies, no Imposi∣tions; yet in his time, and by his Page  80 favour, (though not for his use) were brought into the Court two meane fellowes grand Projectors, the one, Ingram, an ordinary Wai∣ter of the Customes,* the other, Cranfield, an Apprentice, who had served three broken Citizens, and it is probable by his wit and honesty he might thrive by them all, and lay that for his first a foundation of his future projecting; the one a crea∣ture of Northamptons, the other of the house of Suffolke, and these like ill birds defiled their owne nests, and discovered the secrets of the Cu∣stom house; yet their projects see∣med for the Kings profit only, though much water ran by his Mill, and Suffolke did very well licke his owne fingers; for, Salisbury being dead, Suffolke was Treasurer (the proper place for Customs) and his Son in Law▪ Chamberlaine and Fa∣vourite, and then what could not they two doe?

Yet Somerset ever kept them but Page  81 like Projectors, which after Favou∣rites raised to the degrees of Nobi∣lity, only Suffolke by Somersets power made Ingram a Cofferer of the Kings House, which was the first apparent step to Somersets downfall; for, however the King made faire semblance to maintaine that Act, yet made he the Earle of Kelly his instrument to set the Officers of his houshold to petition him against it, and ever from the Kings owne dire∣ctions to take their instructions, in which, one of the Principal given, was, not to seeke to Somerset upon any tearmes, nay, to deny to accept his favour though offered to disan∣nul his owne act, but to carry it with an high hand against Somerset, by which, assurance was given of prevailing. Here was pretty jug∣ling; (the Court being then but an Academy of Juglers.) Somerset did often Court the Officers (to make him that Achilles his Weapon, that could wound and heale againe) but Page  82 was entertained with sorne; yet ambition so dazled his eyes, hee could not see the precipice on which he stood ready for his down∣fall; for, surely no Astrologers could have given him truer notions of his ruine then this: Cranfield, the other Projector soared higher, though not in Somersets time could he have his feathers imped, but Buckingham after did so impe them, that Cranfield endeavoured to pull out his, and gave him the first af∣front; by this you may observe how the times altered from better to worse, and so fittest for worthlesse men.

For now began to appeare a gli∣mering of a new Favourite,* one Mr. George Villiers, a younger Son, (by a second Venter) of an ancient Knight in Leicestershire, as I take it, his Fa∣ther of an ancient Family, his Mo∣ther but of a meane, and a waiting Gentle-woman, whom the old man fell in love with and married, by Page  83 whom he had three sons, all raised to the Nobility, by meanes of their brother-Favourite: this Gentleman was come also but newly from Tra∣vell, and at that time did beleeve it a great fortune to marry a Daugh∣ter of Sir Roger Astons, and in truth it was the heighth of his ambi∣tion, and for that only end was an hanger on upon the Court; the Gentlewoman loved him so well, as could all his friends have made (her for her great fortune) but an hun∣dred Markes Joynture, she had married him presently, in despight of all her friends; and no question would have had him without any Joynture at all.

But, as the Fates would have it, before the closing up of this Match, the King cast a glancing eye towards him, which was easily perceived by such as observed their Princes hu∣mour, and then the Match was laid aside, some assuring him a greater Fortune was comming towards Page  84 him. Then, one gave him his place of Cup-bearer, that he might be in the Kings eye; another sent to his Mercer and Taylor to put good Cloathes on him; a third, to his Sempster for curious Linnen, and all as prefacive insinuations to obtaine Offices upon his future Rise; then others tooke upon them to be his Bravoes, to undertake his quarrels upon affronts put on him by So∣mersets Faction, so all hands helped to the piecing up this new Fa∣vourite.

Then begun the King to eate a∣broad, who formerly used to eate in his Bed-chamber, or if by chance supped in his Bed-chamber, after supper would come forth to see pastimes and fooleries; in which Sir Ed. Zouch, Sir George Goring, and Sir Iohn Finit were the chiefe and Master Fools, and surely this Foo∣ling got them more then any o∣thers wisdome, farre above them in desert: Zouch his part it was to sing Page  85 bawdy songs, and tell bawdy tales; Finits, to compose these Songs: then was a set of Fidlers brought to Court on purpose for this Fooling, and Goring was Master of the game for Fooleries, sometimes presenting David Droman, and Ar∣chee Armstrong the Kings Foole, on the back of the other fools, to tilt one at another, till they fell toge∣ther by the eares; sometimes the property was presented by them in Antick Dances. But Sir John Milli∣cent (who was never known before) was commended for notable fool∣ing, and so was he indeed the best extemporary foole of them all: with this jollity was this Favourite ushered in. This made the house of Suffolke fret, and Somerset carried himselfe now more proudly, and his Bravado's, ever quarrelling with the others, which, by his Office of Lord Chamberlaine, for a while car∣ried it. But, Somerset using of Sir Ralph Wynwood (whom himselfe Page  86 brought in for a Secretary of State) in so scornfull a manner (he having but only the title, the Earle himselfe keeping the Seales, and doing the businesse) made Wynwood endeavour to ruine him, who soone got an opportunity thereto, by fre∣quenting the Countesse of Shrews∣bury (then Prisoner in the Tower) who told Wynwood on a time, that Overbury was poysoned, which she had so understood from Sir Gervase Elwaies; who did labour by her meanes to deale with her two sons in Law, Arundell and Pembrooke, (Wynwood also being great-with that faction) that when it came in∣to question, he might save his owne stake, who truly was no otherwise guilty, but that he did not discover it at Westons first disclosing it (hee being Keeper of the prison) so by inference, his not disclosing it, was Overburies death; and had he revea∣led it then, I dare say he had beene brought into the Star-chamber for Page  87 it, and undone (for yet was not the time fit for discovery.) Wynwood, it was thought, acquainted the King with it, knowing how willingly he would have been rid of Somerset, yet the King durst not bring it in questi∣on, nor any question ever would have been, had not Somerset sought to crosse him in his passion of love to his new Favourite, in which the King was more impatient, then any woman to enjoy her love.

Not long after, Thrumball, Agent at Bruxels, had (by an Apotheca∣ries boy one Reeve, after an Apo∣thecary himselfe in London, and dyed very lately) gotten hold of this poysoning businesse, for Reeve having under his Master, made some of those desperate Medicines, either run away, or else his Master sent him out of the way, and fell in company of Thrumbals servants at Bruxels, to whom he reveal'd it, they to their Master, who exami∣ning the boy, discovered the truth; Page  88Thrumball presently wrote to Se∣cretary Wynwood he had businesse of consequence to discover, but would not send it, therefore desired licence to come over. The King would not yeeld to his returne, but willed him to send an Expresse: That Thrum∣ball utterly refused; and very wise∣ly, for had any thing appeared un∣der his hand, the boy might have dyed, or run away, and then had he made himselfe the Author of that which the courtesie of another must have justified.

The King being of a longing dis∣position, rather then he would not know, admitted Thrumbals returne, and now they had good testimony by the Apothecary, who revealed Weston, Mrs. Turner, and Franklyn to be principall Agents, yet this (being neare the time of progresse) was not stirred in till about Micha∣elmas following; yet Wynwood did now carry himselfe in a braving way of contestation against Somer∣set,Page  89 struck in with the Faction of Villiers, now on progresse. The King he went westward, where he was feasted at Cranborne, by a Sonne in Law of that Family; at Lulworth, and Bindon, by the Lord Walden; at Charlton, by Sir Thomas Howard; and every where nothing but one Faction braving the other; then was the King feasted at Purbeck by the Lord Hatton, who was of the contrary Faction, and at a Joynture house of Sir George Villiers mother, called Gotly, where he was magnifi∣cently entertained.

After all this feasting, homeward came the King, who desired by all meanes to reconcile this clashing be∣tween his declining, and rising Fa∣vourite; to which end, at Lulworth the King imployed Sir Humphrey May, a great servant to Somerset, and a wise servant to Villiers, but with such instructions as if it came from himselfe: and Villiers, had order presently after Sir Humphrey MayesPage  90 returne, to present himselfe and service to Somerset. My Lord, said he, Sir George Villers, will come to you to offer his service, and desire to be your creature; and therefore re∣fuse him not, embrace him, and your Lordship shall still stand a great man, though not the sole Favou∣rite: My Lord seemed averse, Sir Humphrey then told him in plaine tearmes, that he was sent by the King to advise it, and that Villiers would come to him to cast himself into his protection, to take his rise under the shadow of his wings: Sir Humphrey May was not parted from my Lord halfe an houre, but in comes Sir George Villiers, and used these very words, My Lord, I desire to be your servant, and your creature, and shall desire to take my Court-pre∣ferment under your favour, and your Lordship shall finde me, as faithfull a servant unto you, as ever did serve you. My Lord returned this quick and short answer, I will none of your ser∣vice, Page  91 nor shall you have any of my fa∣vour, I will, if I can, break your necke, and of that be confident. This was but a harsh Complement, and savoured more of spirit then wisdome; and since that time, breaking each others necks was their aimes, and its verily beleeved, had Somerset complyed with Villiers, Overburyes death had stil lain raked up in his own ashes; but, God, who will never suffer murther to go unpunished, will have what he will, maugre all the wisdome of the World.

To Windsor doth the King return, to end His Progresse, from thence to Hampton-Court, then to White-Hall, and shortly after to Royston, to begin His Winter-Iourney.

And now begins the game to bee plaid, in which, Somerset must be the loser, the Cards being shuffled, cut, and dealt between the King and Sir Edward Cooke, Cheife Iustice (whose Daughter Turbeck, Villers his Brother had married, or was to Page  92 marry, and therefore a fit instrument to ruine Somerset) and Secretary Win∣wood; these all playd: The stake, Somersets life, and his Ladyes, and their Fortunes, and the Family of Suffolke; some of them played boo∣ty, and in truth the Game was not plaid above-board.

The day the King went from White-Hall to Theobalds, and so to Royston, the King sent for all the Judges (his Lords and Servants en∣circling him) where kneeling down in the midst of them, he used these very words:

My Lords the Judges; It is lately come to my hearing, that you have now in examination a businesse of poyson∣ing: Lord in what a most miserable con∣dition shall this Kingdom be, (the one∣ly famous Nation for hospitality in the World) if our Tables should become such a snare, as none could eate without dan∣ger of life, and that Italian custom should be introduced amongst us! (Therefore, my Lords, I charge you, as you will an∣swer Page  93 it at that great and dreadfull day of Judgement, that you examin it strictly without favour, affection, or par∣tiality; and if you shall spare any guil∣ty of this crime, Gods curse light upon you and your posterity: And if I spare a∣ny that are found guilty, Gods curse light on me, and my posterity for ever. But how this dreadfull thunder-Curse or imprecation was perform∣ed, shall be shewed hereafter; and I pray God, the effect be not felt a∣mongst us, even at this day (as it hath been, I fear, on that vertuous Lady Elizabeth, and her children,) for God treasures up such impreca∣tions and deprecations, and poures them out when a Nation least dreams, even when they cry, peace, peace, to their souls; and it may wel be at this time (our other sins con∣curring) that he is pouring them out upon King, Judges, and the whole State.

It appeares how unwilling the King was to ruin Somerset, a creature Page  94 of his owne making, But, immedi∣cabile vulnus, Ense rescinendum est; Grace was offered by the King, had he had grace to have apprehended it.

The King with this, took his fare∣well for a time of London, and was accompanyed with Somerset to Roy∣ston, where no sooner he brought him, but instantly tooke his leave, little imagining what viper lay a∣mongst the hearbs; nor must I for∣get to let you know how perfect the King was in the art of dissimulation, or, (to give it his own phrase) King-craft; The Earle of Somerset (to his apprehension) never parted from him with more seeming affection then at this time, when intentionally the King had so exposed him to Cookes dressing, that hee knew Somerset should never see him more; and had you seen that seeming affection (as the Author himself did) you would rather have beleeved he was in his rising, then setting: The Earl when Page  95 he kissed his hand,* the King hung a∣bout his neck, slabboring his cheeks; saying, for Gods sake when shall I see thee againe? On my soule, I shall neither eate, nor sleep, untill you come again; the Earl told him, on Monday (this being on the Fri∣day,) for Gods sake let me, said the King, shall I? shall I? Then lolled about his neck; then, for Gods sake, give thy Lady this kisse for me: in the same manner at the stayres head, at the midle of the staires, and at the stayres foot; the Earle was not in his Coach, when the King used these very words (in the hearing of four servants, of whom, one was So∣mersets great creature, and of the Bed-chamber, who reported it in∣stantly to the Author of this Histo∣ry) I shall never see his face more. I appeale therefore to the Reader, whether this Motto of Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare, was not as well performed in this passage, as his Beati pacifici, in the whole course of Page  96 his life; and his love to the latter, made him to bee beaten with his own weapon in the other, by all Prin∣ces and States that had to doe with him.

But, before Somersets approach to London his Countesse was appre∣hended; at his arrivall, himselfe; and the King being that night at supper, said to Sir Thomas Monson, My Lord cheife Justice hath sent for you; he asked the King, when hee should waite on him again, who replyed, you may come when you can: And (as in the story of Byron, and many others) there have been many foo∣lish observations, as presage; so was there in this Gentleman, who was the Kings Mr. Faulconer, and in truth such an one, as no Prince in Christendom had; for, what Flights other Princes had, he would excell them for his Master, in which one was at the Kite.

The French sending over his Faul∣coners to shew that sport, his Ma∣ster Page  97 Faulconer lay long here, but could not kill one Kite, (ours being more magnanimous then the French Kite; Sir Thomas Monson desired to have that flight in all exquisitnesse, and to that end was at 1000l. charge in Ger-Faulcons for that flight, in all that charge, he never had but one cast would performe it; and those had killed nine Kites, which were as many as they were put off unto, not any one of them escaping. Whereupon the Earle of Pembrooke with all the Lords, desired the King but to walk out of Royston Townes end, to see that Flight, which was one of the most stateliest Flights of the world, for the high mountee: the King went unwillingly forth, the Flight was shewed, but the Kite went to such a mountee, and the Hawke after her, as all the field lost sight of Kite and Hawke and al, and neither Kite nor Hawke were either seen or heard of to this present, which made all the Court conje∣cture Page  98 it a very ill omen.

So that you see, the plot was so well laid, as they could be all within the toyle at one instant, not know∣ing of each other.

Now are in hold, the Earle, his Countesse, Sir Thomas Monson, Mris. Turner (a very lewd and infamous woman of life) Weston and Franklin, with some others of lesse note, of which one Simon a servant to Sir Thomas Monson, who was imploy∣ed in carrying Ielly and Tart to the Tower, who upon his examination, for his pleasant answer, was instant∣ly dismissed, My Lord told him, Simon you have had a hand in this poysoning businesse; He replyed, no, my good Lord, I had but one finger in it, which almost cost me my life, and at the best cost me all my Hair and Nailes; for the truth was Simon was somewhat liquorish, and finding the syrrup swim from the top of a Tart, as he carryed it, he did with his finger scum it off, and Page  99 it was to be beleeved, had he known what it had been, hee would not have been his Taster at so deare a rate; and that you may know Simons interest with that Family, I shall tel you a story.

Sir Thomas Monson was a great lo∣ver of Musicke, and had as good as England had, especially for voyces, and was at infinite charge in bree∣ding some in Italy. This Simon was an excellent Musician, and did sing delicately, but was a more generall Musician than ever the world had, and in one kind he surpassed all. He had a Catzo of an immense length and bignesse, with this, being his Ta∣bor stick, his palme of his hand his Tabor, and his mouth his Pipe, he would so imitate a Tabor and Pipe, as if it had been so indeed: To this Musicke, would Mrs. Turner, the young Ladies, and some of that Ging dance ever after Supper; the old Lady, who loved that Musicke as well, as her Daughters, would sit Page  100 and laugh, shee could scarce sit for laughing; and it was beleeved, that some of them danced after that Pipe without the Tabor: his Master comming to heare of it turned him away, who was infinitly importuned to take him again, but would not: however he could not have wanted a service elsewhere, but he never durst use his pipe amongst them, for their dancing recreation, however he might for any other.

And now poor Mrs. Turner, We∣ston and Franklin began the Tragedy, Mrs. Turners day of mourning being better then the day of her birth: for she dyed very penitently, and shew∣ed much modesty in her last act, which is to be hoped was accepted with God, after that dyed Weston; and then was Franklin arraigned, who confessed that Overbury was smothered to death, not poysoned to death; though he had poyson gi∣ven him.

Here was Cooke glad, how to cast Page  101 about to bring both ends together, Mrs. Turner, and Weston being already hanged for killing Overbury with poyson, but he being the very quin∣tessence of Law, presently informes the Jury, that if a man be done to death, with Pistols, Poniards, swords, Halter, Poyson, &c. so he be done to death, the Indictment is good, if but indicted for any of those wayes; but the good Lawyers of those times were not of that opinion, but did beleeve, that Mrs. Turner was direct∣ly murthered by my Lord Cookes Law, as Overbury was without any Law.

In the next place, comes the Countesse to her Tryall, at whose Arraignment, as also at Mrs. Turners before, were shewed many Pictures, Puppits, &c. with some Exorcismes and Magick spels, which made them appear more odious, as being known to converse with Witches and Wi∣zards; and amongst those tricks, For∣mans book was shewed. This FormanPage  102 was a fellow dwelt in Lambeth, a ve∣ry silly fellow, yet had wit enough to cheate Ladyes, and other women, by pretending skill in telling their Fortunes, as, whether they should bury their Husbands, and what se∣cond Husbands they should have, and whether they should injoy their Loves, or whether Maids should get Husbands, or injoy their servants to themselves without Corrivals; but, before he would tell any thing, they must write their names to his Alphabeticall booke, with their own hand writing; by this trick he kept them in awe, if they should complaine of his abusing them, as in truth hee did nothing else: Be∣sides, it was beleeved, some meet∣ings were at his house, wherein the art of a Bawd was more beneficiall to him, then that of a Conjurer; and that hee was a better Artist in the one then other; and that you may know his skil, hee was him∣selfe a Cuckold, having a very pret∣ty Page  103 wench to his Wife, which would say, she did it to try his skill, but it fared with him as with Astrologers, that cannot foresee their owne de∣stiny. I well remember, there was much mirth made in the Court, up∣on the shewing this booke, for it was reported, the first leafe my Lord Cook lighted on, he found his owne wives name.

The next that came on the stage was Sir Thomas Monson; but the night before he was to come to his Tryall, the King being at the game of Maw, said, To morrow comes Tom Monson to his Tryall; yea, said the Kings* Card-holder, where if he doe not play his Master-prize, your Majesty shall never trust me; this so run in the Kings minde, as the next game, he said he was slee∣py, and would play out that Set next night; the Gentleman depar∣ted to his lodging, but was no soo∣ner gone, but the King sent for him, what communication they had, I Page  104 know not, (yet it may be can more easily guesse then any other) but it is most certaine, next under God, that Gentleman saved his life, for the King sent a Post presently to London, to let the Lord chiefe Iu∣stice know, he would see Monsons examination and confession, to see if it were worthy to touch his life, for so small a matter; Monson was too wise to set any thing but faire in his confession; what he would have stab'd with, should have been (viva voce) at his Arraignment. The King sent word, he saw nothing worthy of death, or of bonds, in his Accusation or Examination: Cook was so mad, he could not have his will of Monson, that hee said, Take him away, we have other mat∣ters against him of an higher na∣ture; with which words, out issues about a dozen Warders of the Tower, and tooke him from the Barre; and Cooks malice was such against him, as though it rained ex∣treamly, Page  105 and Monson not well, he made him goe a foot from the Guild-Hall to the Tower, which al∣most cost him his life; there he lay a close prisoner above three months, to the end to get a Recorders place, (that Cranfield desired) every man thinking him in some Treason, would not lend him any Money, and if so much money had not been paid by such a time, his place had been forfeited. And in this let me com∣mend the part of a true friend in Sir Humphrey May, who in 24 hours, (after Sir Thomas his deep sensi∣blenesse of all other his friends de∣serting him in that great exigency) made his Brother Herick take up 2000. l. and pay it, to save his Of∣fice, without so much as any secu∣rity from Sir Thomas Monson, (for he was close prisoner) or from any friend of his; and that you may know it was for his office only, this hard measure was shewed him, the Money was no sooner paid, but his Page  106 friends might come unto him; and I must not let passe the skill of the Lord Loriskeine, a Scotch-man, who long before, by his physiognomy, told Sir George Marshall that Sir Thomas Monson would escape hang∣ing nearer then ever any man did, which was true, for he was twice brought to his triall, put himselfe both times upon his Country, yet was only indicted, never tryed, and yet he had harder measure then ever any man had, for he lost his Office, being but indicted, and not condem∣ned, which is without any president.

And now for the last act, enters Somerset himselfe on the Stage, who (being told, as the manner is, by the Lieutenant, that he must pro∣vide to goe next day to his triall) did absolutely refuse it, and said, they should carry him in his Bed; that the King had assured him, he should not come to any triall, nei∣ther durst the King bring him to tryall; this was in an high straine, Page  107 and in a language not well under stood by Sir George Moore (then Lieutenant in Elwaies his roome) that made Moore quiver and shake, and however he was accounted a wise man, yet he was neare at his wits end.

Yet away goes Moore to Greene∣wich, as late as it was (being 12. at night) bounseth at the back-staires, as if mad, to whom came Jo. Leve∣ston, one of the Groomes out of his Bed, enquires the reason of that distemper at so late a season; Moore tells him he must speake with the King; Leveston replyes, he is quiet (which in the Scottish dialect, is fast asleep) Moore sayes, you must awake him; Moore was called in, (the Chamber left to the King and Moore) he tels the King those pas∣sages, and desired to be directed by the King, for he was gone beyond his owne reason, to heare such bold and undutifull expressions, from a faulty Subject, against a just Sove∣raigne: Page  108 The King falls into a passion of teares: On my soule, Moore, I wot not what to doe, thou art a wise man, helpe me in this great straight, and thou shalt finde thou dost it for a thankfull Master, with other sad expressions; Moore leaves the King in that passion, but assures him he will prove the utmost of his wit, to serve his Majesty, and was really rewarded with a suit worth to him 1500. l. (although Annan∣dale his great friend, did cheat him of one halfe, so was there falshood in friendship.)

Sir George Moore returnes to So∣merset about three next morning,* of that day he was to come to triall, enters Somersets chamber, tels him he had been with the King, found him a most affectionate Master un∣to him, and full of grace in his in∣tentions towards him, but (said he) to satisfie Iustice, you must appeare, although returne instantly againe, without any further proceedings, Page  109 only you shall know your enemies, and their malice, though they shall have no power over you: With this tricke of wit, he allayed his fury, and got him quietly, about eight in the morning, to the Hall, yet feared his former bold language might re∣vert againe, and being brought by this trick into the toile, might have more inraged him to fly out into some strange discovery, for preven∣tion whereof he had two servants placed on each side of him, with a Cloak on their armes, giving them withall a peremptory order, if that Somerset did any way fly out on the King, they should instantly hood∣wink him with that Cloak, take him violently from the Bar, and car∣ry him away; for which, he would secure them from any danger, and they should not want also a bounti∣full reward. But the Earle finding himselfe over-reached, re-collected a better temper, and went on calm∣ly in his Tryall, where he held the Page  110 company untill 7. at night. But who had seene the Kings restlesse motion all that day (sending to every Boat he saw landing at the Bridge, cursing all that came with∣out tydings) would have easily judged all was not right, and there had been some grounds for his feares of Somersets boldnesse; but at last one bringing him word he was condemned, and the passages, All was quiet. This is the very relation from Moores owne mouth, and this he told verbatim, in Wanstead Parke, to two Gentlemen (of which the Author was one) who were both left by him to their own freedome, without engaging them, even in those times of high distemperatures, unto a faithfull secresie in conceal∣ing it: yet, though he failed in his wisdome, they failed not in that worth inherent in every Noble spi∣rit, never speaking of it till after the Kings death.

And there were other strong in∣ducements, Page  111 to beleeve Somerset knew that by the King, he desired none other in the world should be partaker of, and that all was not peace within in the Peace-maker himselfe; for he ever courted So∣merset to his dying day, and gave him 4000. l. per annum for Fee∣farme Rents, after he was condem∣ned, which he took in his servants names, not his owne (as then being condemned; not capable of) and he then resolved never to have a par∣don. I have heard it credibly repor∣ted, he was told by a Wizzard, that could he but come to see the Kings face againe, he should be re-invested in his former dearnesse with him; this had been no hard experiment, but belike he had too much Religi∣on, to trust to Wizzards, or else some friends of his had trusted them, and been deceived by them, that he had little reason to put con∣fidence in them.

Many beleeved him guilty of O∣verburiesPage  112 death, but the most thought him guilty only of the breach of friendship (and that in a high point) by suffering his impri∣sonment, which was the high-way to his murther; and this conjecture I take to be of the soundest opini∣on; for by keeping him out of the action (if it were discovered) his greatnesse fortified with innocency, would carry their nocencies through all dangers. For the Gentleman himselfe, he had misfortune e∣nough to marry such a woman, in such a Family, which first undermi∣ned his Honour, afterwards his life, (at least to be dead in Law;) nor did any thing reflect upon him in all his time of Favourite, but in, and by that Family; first in his adulte∣rous marriage, then in so hated a Family, and the bringing in Cranfield and Ingram, as Projectors, all by his Wives and friends meanes; other∣wise had he been the bravest Favou∣rite of our time, full of Majesty, Page  113 imploying his time like a States∣man, and the King kept correspon∣dency with him by Letters, almost weekly, to his dying day.

And here have we brought this great mans glory to its period, with his fatal Countesse, who some years after it, dyed miserably at Chiswick. Mris. Turner, Weston, Franklin and Elwayes dyed in the Tower, Weston ever saying, it never troubled him to dye for the Blue Ribbons sake: and so was concluded that grand businesse, the grosse production of a then foul State and Court, wherein, Pride, Revenge and Luxury abounded. Yet, and its verily beleeved, when the King made those terrible Imprecati∣ons on himselfe, and Deprecations of the Iudges, it was intended the Law should run in its proper chan∣nell, but was stopt and put out of course by the folly of that great Clerke though no wise man, Sir Edward Cooke, who, in a vaine-glo∣rious speech, to shew his vigilan∣cy, Page  114 enters into a rapture as he then sat on the Bench, saying, God knows what became of that sweet Babe Prince Henry (but I know somewhat;) & sure∣ly, in searching the Cabinets, he ligh∣ted on some Papers that spake plain in that which was ever whispered; which had he gon on in a gentle way, would have falne in of themselves, not to have been prevented, but this folly of his tongue, stopt the breath of that discovery, of that so foule a murder, which, I fear, cryes still for vengeance.

And now begins the new Favou∣rite to reign, without any concur∣rent; now hee rises in honour, as well as swells with pride, breaking out of those modest bounds, (which formerly had impaled him) to the high-way of pride and scorne, turn∣ing out, and putting in all he pleas∣ed: First, he must aspire to the Ad∣miralls Office himselfe, and would not let the old Gentleman (so well deserving in that place) dye with Page  115 that Title, but the King must put himselfe to a great charge, to put out the better, and take in the worse; yet for all his immense greatnesse, would he never let him be Admiral; untill he had first setled Sir Robert Mansell Vice-Admirall of England, during his life, by Pa∣tent, in which, he not onely mani∣fested his love to his Noble friend, though sometime his servant, but his care to the State, that his expe∣rience and abilities, might support the others inabilities; wel knowing, that the Honour and safety of the Kingdome, consisted in the wel-ordering and strength of the Na∣vy.

Next, Egerton had displeased him by not giving way to his exorbitant desires, he must out, and would not let him seale up his dying eyes, with the seals which he had so long car∣ryed, and so well discharged; and to despite him the more, and to vex his very soule in the last Agony, he Page  116 sent Bacon (one he hated yet, to be his Successor) for the Seales, which the old mansspirit could not brook, but sent them by his owne servant to the King, and shortly after yeeld∣ed his soul to his Maker.

And to the end you may know what men were made choyce of, to serve turnes, I shall set you downe a true story: This great Favourite sent a Noble Gentleman, and of much worth to Bacon, with this Mes∣sage,* that he knew him to be a man of excellent parts, and as the times were, sit to serve his Master in the Keepers place, but hee also knew him of a base and ingratefull dispo∣tion, and an arrant Knave, apt in his prosperity, to ruine any that had raised him from adversity; yet for all this, hee did so much study his Masters service (knowing how fit an instrument he might be for him) that he had obtained the Seales for him; but with this assurance, should he ever requite him, as he had done Page  117 some others to whom he had been more bound, he would cast him downe as much below scorne, as he had now raised him high above any Honour he could ever have ex∣pected.

Bacon was at that time Attorney Generall,* who patiently hear∣ing this Message, replyed, I am glad my noble Lord deales so friendly and freely with me, and hath made that choyce of so dis∣creet and Noble a friend, that hath delivered his Message in so plaine language; but saith he, can my Lord know these abilities in me? and can hee thinke when I have! attained the highest pre∣ferment my profession is capa∣ble of, I shall so much faile in my judgement, and understanding, as to lose these abilities? and by my miscarriage to so noble a Patron, cast my selfe headlong from the top of that honour, to the very bot∣tome of contempt and scorne? Page  118 Surely, my Lord cannot thinke so meanly of me. The Gentleman re∣plyed, I deliver you nothing from my selfe, but the words are put in∣to my mouth by his Lordship, to which I neither adde nor diminish; for, had it been left to my discreti∣on, surely, though I might have gi∣ven you the substance, yet should I have apparelled it in a more mod∣dest attire; but as I have faithfully delivered my Lords to you, so will I as faithfully returne yours to his Lordship.

You must understand the reason of this Message, was, his ungrate∣fulnesse to Essex, which every one could remember, for the Earle sa∣ved him from starving, and he re∣quited him so, as his Apology must witnesse; were there not a great fault, there needed no Apology; nor could any age, but a worthlesse, and corrupt, in men and manners, have thought him worthy such a place of honour.

Page  119 Well, Lord Keeper he was, for which he paid nothing, nor was hee able; for now was there a new trick to put in dishonest and necessitous men, to serve such turnes, as men of plentifull fortunes, and fair repu∣tations, would not accept of; and this filled the Church and Com∣mon-wealth full of beggerly fel∣lowes (such daring to venture on any thing) having nothing to lose;* (for it is riches makes men co∣wards; Poverty, daring and vali∣ant, to adventure at any thing to get something) yet did not Buck∣ingham doe things gratis, but, what their purses could not stretch unto, they paid in pensions out of their places, all which went to main∣taine his numerous beggerly kin∣dred; Bacon paid a Pension, Heath (Atturney) paid a Pension, Bar∣grave (Deane) paid a Pension, with many others: Nor was this any certaine rule, for present por∣tions must be raised, for the Marri∣age Page  120 of a poore Kitchin Maid, to be made a great Count esse; so Fotherby made Bishop of Sarum, paid 3500. l. and some also, worthy men, were preferred gratis, to blow up their Fames, and Trumpet forth their Noblenesse (as Tolson, a worthy man, paid nothing in Fine or Pensi∣on; after him, Davenant, in the same Bishoprick;) but these were but as Musick before every sceane; nor were fines or pensions certaine, but where men were rich, there Fines without reservation of rent; where poore, and such as would serve turnes, there Pensions; no Fines; so Weston, and many others: There were books of rates on all the Offices, Bishopricks, Deaneries in England, that could tell you what Fines, what Pensions, other∣wise it had been impossible such a numerous kindred could have been maintained with the three Kingdomes Revenue.

Now was Bacon invested in his Page  121 Office, and, within ten dayes after, the King goes to Scotland; Bacon in∣stantly begins to believe himselfe King, lyes in the Kings Lodgings, gives audience in the great Banque∣ting House, makes all other Coun∣cellors attend his motions, with the same state the King used to come out, to give audience to Embassa∣dours; when any other Councel∣lour sate with him about the Kings affaires, would (if they sate neare him) bid them know their distance; upon which, Secretary Wynwood rose, went away, and would never sit more (under his encroached State) but instantly dispatcht one to the King, to desire him to make haste back, for even his very Seat was al∣ready usurped: At which, I re∣member, the King reading it unto us, both the King and we were very merry; and if Buckingham had sent him any Letters, would not vouch∣safe the opening or reading them in publique, though, it was said, re∣quiring Page  122 speedy dispatch, nor would vouchsafe him any answer. In this posture he lived, untill he heard the King was returning, and began to beleeve the Play was almost at an end, he might personate a Kings part no longer, and therefore did againe re-invest himselfe with his old rags of basenesse, which were so tattered and poore at the Kings comming to Windsor; he attended two dayes at Buckinghams Cham∣ber, being not admitted to any bet∣ter place, then the roome where Trencher-scrapers and Lacquies at∣tended, there sitting upon an old wooden chest, (amongst such as for his basenesse,* were only fit compa∣nions, although the Honour of his place did merit farre more respect) with his Purse and Seale lying by him, on that chest; My selfe told a servant of my Lord of Buckinghams, it was a shame to see the Purse and Seale of so little value or esteeme in his Chamber, though the Carryer, Page  123 without it, merited nothing but scorne, being worst among the ba∣sest. He told me they had com∣mand it must be so; after two dayes he had admittance: at first entrance he fell downe flat on his face at the Dukes foot, kissing it, vowing never to rise till he had his pardon, then was he againe reconciled, and since that time so very a slave to the Duke, and all that Family, that he durst not deny the command of the meanest of the kindred, nor oppose anything; by this you see, a base spirit is ever most concomitant with the proudest minde, and surely never so many brave parts, and so base and abject a spirit tenanted together in any one earthen Cottage, as in this one man: I shall not remember his basenesse, being out of his place, of pinning himselfe, for very scraps, on that Noble Gentleman, Sir Julius Caesars Hospitality, that at last he was forced to get the Kings Warrant to remove him out of his Page  124 house; yet in his prosperity, the one being Chancellor, and the other Master of the Rolls, did so scorne and abuse him, as he would alter any thing the other did.

And now Buckingham having the Chancellor, Treasurer, and all great Officers his very slaves, swels in the height of pride, summons up all his Country kindred, the old Countesse providing a place for them to learne to carry themselves in a Court-like garbe, but because they could not learne the French Dances so soon as to be suitable to their gay Clothes, Country Dan∣ces (for their sakes only) must be the garbe of the Court, and none else must be used.

Then must these women-kindred be married to Earles, Earles eldest Sonnes, Barons, or chiefe Gentle∣men of greatest estates, insomuch that the very female kindred were so numerous, as were sufficient to have peopled any Plantation; nay, Page  125 very Kitchin-wenches were marri∣ed to Knights eldest sonnes; yet, as if England had not matches enough in the Kingdome, they married like the house of Austria, in their own kindred, witnesse the Earle of Ang∣lesea, married a cousen German, to whom he had given earnest before; so that King James, that naturally, in former times, hated women, had his Lodgings replenished with them, and all of the Kindred. The Brethren, great Earls. Little chil∣dren did run up and downe the Kings Lodgings, like little Rabbit∣starters about their boroughs: Here was a strange change, that the King, who formerly would not endure his Queen and children in his Lodge∣ings, now you would have judged, that none but women frequented them; nay, that was not all, but the kindred had all the houses a∣bout White-Hall (as if they had been Bulwarks and Flankers to that Cittadell.) But, above all the Mira∣cles Page  126 of those times, old Sir Anthony Ashley, who never loved any but boyes, yet he was snatcht up for a kinswoman, as if there had been a concurrency thorow the Kingdom, that those that naturally hated wo∣men, yet should love his kindred, as well as the King him.

And the very old Midwives of that kindred, flockt up for prefer∣ment, of which old Sir Christopher Perkins, a woman-hater, that never meant to marry, nay it was said, he had made a vow of Virginity, yet was coupled to an old Midwife, so that you see the greatnesse of this Favourite, who could force (by his power over the King) though a∣gainst Nature.

But I must tell you, this got him much hatred, to raise brothers, and brother-in-laws to the highest rank of Nobility, which were not capa∣ble of the place, of scarce a Iustice of the Peace, only his brother Pur∣beck had more wit and honesty then Page  127 all the kindred beside, and did keep him in some bounds of honesty and modesty, whilst he lived about him, and would speake plaine English to him: for which plainnesse, when they had no colour to put him from his brother, they practised to make him mad, and thought to bring that wicked stratagem to effect, by coun∣tenancing a wicked Woman, his Wife, the Lord Cookes Daughter a∣gainst him, even in her base and lewd living.

And now is Purbeck mad indeed, and put from Court. Now, none great with Buckingham, but Bawds and Parasites, and such as humoured him in his unchaste pleasures; so that since his first being a pretty, harmlesse, affable Gentleman, he grew insolent, cruell, and a monster not to be endured.

And now is Williams, sometimes Chaplaine to the Lord Keeper E∣gerton, brought into play, made a privie-Councellor, Deane of West∣minster,Page  128 and of secret Councell with the King, he was also made Bishop of Lincolne, and was general∣ly voyced at his first step, to marry Buckinghams Mother, who was in her husbands time, created a Coun∣tesse (he remaining still) a C. silly drunken sot) and this was the first president of this kinde ever known. Williams held her long in hand, and no doubt, in nature of her Confessor, was her secret friend, yet would not marry at present: which, afterwards, was cause of his downfall.

Then was there a Parliament summoned, in which, Bacon for his bribery and injustice, was thrust out, being closely prosecuted by one Morby a Woodmonger, and one Wrenham, formerly deeply censured in the Star-Chamber for accusing him of bribery and injustice; Bacon was by Parliament justly put out of his place, and but only for the Votes of the Bishops, had been degraded; Page  129 the Bishops might have done better to have kept their voyces to have done themselves service at this time, but surely that, with some other injustice of theirs, had so fil∣led up their measure of iniquity, that now Gods anger is kindled against them.

In Bacons place comes Williams, a man on purpose brought in at first to serve turnes, but in this place to doe that which none of the Layity could be found bad enough to un∣dertake, whereupon this observa∣tion was made, that first, no Lay∣man could be found so dishonest as a Clergy man; next, as Bacon the Father of this Bacon, did receive the seales from a Bishop, so a Bishop a∣gaine received them from a Bacon; and at this did the Lawyers fret, to have such a flower pulled out of their Garland.

This Williams, though he wanted much of his Predecessors abilities for the Law, yet did he equall him Page  130 for learning and pride, and beyond him in the way of bribery, this man answering by Petitions, in which his servants had one part, himselfe another, and so was calculated to be worth to him & his servants 3000. l. per annum, by a new way never found out before.

And now being come to the height of his preferment, he did e∣strange himselfe from the company of the old Countesse, having much younger ware, who had keyes to his chamber to come to him, yet was there a necessity of keeping him in this place for a time, the Spanish Match being yet in chase, and if it succeeded, this man was to clap the great Seale (through his ignorance in the Lawes) to such things that none that understood the danger by knowing the Lawes, would venture upon, and for this designe was he at first brought in, (no Prince living knowing how to make use of men, better then King James.)

Page  131 Now was also Suffolke turned out of his place of Lord Treasurer, and a fellow (of the same Batch that Williams was) brought into his place, Cranfield, that was the Proje∣ctor, and never could get higher then that title in Somersets time▪ now marrying one of Buckinghams kindred, attained one of the highest Titles in the Kingdome; so that it was now generally said, that for pride and basenesse these two grea places were never so suited, both of meane birth, both proud, only the one an excellent Scholler, and of great parts; the other, nothing but a pack of ignorance sodered toge∣ther with impudence to raise him (besides his marriage in the lusty kindred.)

This Cranfield was a fellow of so meane a condition, as none but a poore spirited Nobility would have endured his perching on that high Tree of honour, to the dishonour of the Nobility, the disgrace of the Page  132 Gentry, and not long after, to his owne dishonour, who was thrust out of the Lords House with this censure, that Thou Lionell, Earle of Middlesex, shalt never sit, or have voice more in this House of Peeres, and shalt pay for a fine to our Soveraigne Lord the King. 20000. l. leaving him still to over-top the Gentry. The Bi∣shops kept him also from degra∣ding, which I doe verily beleeve is one cause the Gentry will degrade them.

The Spanish Match,* having been long in Treaty, and it being suspe∣cted now, that the Spaniard did jug∣gle with the State in this, as they formerly did in a Match with that brave Prince Henry, and in truth, in all other things wherein any nego∣tiation had been, only feeding the King with faire hopes, and faire words, yet foule deeds. Whether the King suspected any such matter, or any whimsey came in the braine of this great Favourite and Prince, Page  133 to imitate the old stories of the Knights Erland, but agreed it was (it should seeme) between the Fa∣vourite and the Prince only (no one other so much as dreaming of any such adventure except Cotting∣ton, that the Prince must goe him∣selfe into Spaine: away they went under the borrowed names of Jack and Tom Smith, to the amazement of all wise men, only accompanied with Cottington, and some one or two more at most; taking their way by France, they had the Ports laid so, that none should follow them, or give any notice to the French Court, till they might get the start, &c. yet their wisdomes made them adventure to stay in the French Court, and looke on that Lady whom he after married, and there did this Mars imitate one of Prince Arthurs Knights, in seeking adventures through forraigne Prin∣ces territories; First beheld this French beauty, Mars vidit, visamque Page  134 cupit, potiturque cupita: as in our dis∣course will afterward appear; from thence away to Spaine; but as the Journey was only plotted by young heads, so it was so childishly carri∣ed, that they escaped the French Kings Curriers very narrowly, but escape they did, and arrived safely in Spaine their wished Port, before either welcome, or expected, by our Embassadors, or that State.

Yet now must the best face bee put on, at all hands, that put their Grandees to new shifts, and our Em∣bassadour the Earl of Bristoll to try his wit, for at that time was Sir Wal∣ter Aston also Embassador at Spaine, in all occurrences Aston complyed with the Prince and Duke, Bristol ran counter; and the Duke and Bri∣stol hated each other mortally.

Bristol had the advantage of them there, as having the much better head-peice, and being more conver∣sant and dear with that State, whol∣ly complying with them, and sure∣ly Page  135 had done them very acceptable services (and in this very Treaty was of the pack) Buckingham had the ad∣vantage of him in England (although the King did now hate Buckingham, yet was so awed that hee durst not discover it) Then Buckingham had all interest in his Successor by this jour∣ny, so that he laid a present and fu∣ture foundation of his succeeding greatnesse.

For all his power and greatnesse Bristoll did not forbeare to put all scornes, affronts, and tricks on him, and Buckingham lay so open, as gave the other advantage enough by his lascivious carriage, and miscarriage. Amongst all his tricks, hee playes one so cunningly, that it cost him all the hair on his head, and put him to the dyet; for it should seem hee made court to Conde Olivares wife, a very handsom Lady; But it was so plotted betwixt the Lady, her Hus∣band and Bristol, that instead of that beauty, he had a notorious Sews∣bird Page  136 sent him, and surely, by reason of his said loose and vicious dispo∣sition; had ever the Match been re∣ally intended for our Prince, yet such a Companion or Guardian, was e∣nough to have made that wary Na∣tion, beleeve that hee had also been that way addicted; and so have frustrated the Marriage (that being a grave and sober people, now espe∣cially when conversed with by such great forraign ghests) but they wel observed the Prince himselfe to be of an extraordinary well staied tem∣per.

But now, many Lords flockt o∣ver, and many Servants, that he might appear the Prince of England, and like himselfe, though hee came thither like a private person, many Treaties were, sometimes hope, sometimes dispair, sometimes great assurance, then all dasht againe, and however, his entertainment was as great as possible that State could af∣ford; yet was his addresses to, and Page  137 with, the Lady, such as rendred him meane, and a private person, ra∣ther then a Prince of that State that formerly had made Spaine feel the weight of their anger, and power; and was like a Servant, not a Suitor, for he never was admitted, but to stand bare-head in her presence, nor to talke with her, but in a full audi∣ence with much company.

At last, after many heats and cooles, many hopes, and despaires, the Prince wrote a letter to his Fa∣ther of a desperate despaire, not on∣ly of not injoying his Lady, but of never more returning, with this pas∣sage, You must now, Sir, look upon my Sister and her children, forgetting ever you had such a Son, and never thinking more of me.

Now the folly of this voyage, plotted only by green heads, began to appear, many shewing much sor∣row, many smiling at their sollies (and in truth glad in their hearts) and however the King was a cun∣ning Page  138 dissembler, and shewed much outward sorrow, as he did for Prince Henryes death, yet something was discerned, which made his Court beleeve little greife came neare his heart, for that hatred he bare to Buckingham long (as being satiated with him) and his adoring the rising Sunne, not looking after the Sunne setting, made the world beleeve hee would thinke it no ill bargaine to lose his Son, so Buckingham might bee lost also, for had he not been weary of Buckingham, he would ne∣ver have adventured him in such a journey, all his Courtiers knew that very well.

And for a further illustration of his wearinesse of Buckingham, It ap∣peared in the Parliament before, when the King gave so much way to his ruine, that Buckingham chal∣lenged him that hee did seeke his ruine, and being generally held as a lost man, the King (to make it ap∣peare it was not so, although, as Page  139 hereafter you shall understand, it was so, and that the King durst not avow his own act,) brought him off from that Parliament, but Buckingham ha∣ted the King ever afterwards.

The reason the King so hated Buckingham, (besides his being wea∣ry of him, for his now stalenesse, was his marriage, after which the Kings edge was ever taken off from all Favourites as well as him; yet this had so much the over awing power of him, that hee durst not make shew to affect any other,) there was one Inniossa a Spanish Em∣bassador extraordinary here, beingan old Soldier and a gallant fellow, who thought that Buckingham did not give that respect to him was due to his own person, or to the person of so great a King whose person he re∣presented; Inniossa therefore did as much scorn and slight Buckingham & the Prince whom he sound wholly governed by Buckingham; for now Buckingham had found, by many pas∣sages, Page  140 the Kings desire to be rid of him, he made Court to the Prince, and so wrought himself into his af∣fection, that Damon and Pythias were not more dear each to other, which by no means could the old King a∣way with, nor in truth did any o∣ther like or approve of the Prince his poor spirit, fearing it foretold his fu∣ture inclination, that could ever in∣dure any familiarity with such an one, as had put such foul scorns and affronts on him in his time of great∣nes with the Father: especially, such as called to minde the bravery of his brother, who hated the whole Family for their generall base∣nesse, although none of them had ever offended him in particular, as this man had done the Prince at two severall times, once, before an infinite concourse, by bidding him in plaine termes kisse his Arse; a second time, offering to strike him, saying in most undutiful terms, By God it shall not bee so, nor you Page  141 shall not have it, lifting up his hand over his head with a Ballon-Bracer, that the Prince said, What, my Lord, I thinke you intend to strike me: The first of these audacious affronts was at Royston, the second at Greenwich, before about 400. people. Nei∣ther of which were to bee indu∣red by a private person, but by a Prince from a private person, surely it shewed a much lesse spirit then should have been inherent to a Prince, and after this, to bee so deare with him, as to be gover∣ned by him all his life time, more then his Father was in the prime of his affection, I can give it no title meane enough; it had been wor∣thy the Noble minde of a Prince to have forgotten such injuries, as ne∣ver to have revenged them when he had been King, but never to have suffered him to have come neare his Court, to upbraid him with the sight of so much scorn, and that pub∣lickly offered him before: But at Page  142 that time I well remember some Critticks in Court did not stick to read his future destiny.

This Inniossa being a brave daring Gentleman, used some speeches in the derogation of the Prince and Buckingham, as if they were dange∣rous to the old King; nay, Inniossa sent one Padro Macestria (a Spanish Jesuite, and a great States-man) to King James, to let him know, that he, (under confession) had found the King was by Buckingham, or by his procurement, to be killed, but whether by poyson, Pistoll, Dag∣ger, &c. that he could not tell.

The King, after the hearing of this, was extream melancholly, and in that passion was found by Buck∣ingham at his returne to him. The King, as soon as ever he espied him, said, Ah Stenny, Stenny, (for so he e∣ver called him in familiarity,) wilt thou kill me? at which Buckingham started, and said, who, Sir, hath so abused you? at which the King sat Page  143 silent; out went Buckingham, sret∣ting and fuming, asked, who had been with the King in his absence? It was told him Padro Macestria, then who brought him to the King? it was replyed, the Earl of Kelly; then flew Buckingham on him, to know how he durst bring any one in to the King in his absence, or without his licence? Kelly stood up close to him (for you must know, Kelly was the truest alarum to give warning of the downefall of a Favourite, of any in the Court) and knew his power could doe him no hurt with the King, in present; although it ut∣terly cast him out of all favor from the King in future.

Then Buckingham questioned Pa∣dro Macestria, but that quarrel was interposed and undertook by Inni∣ossa, who told him he would main∣taine him a Traytor, and that, were his Masters person off him; he was a Chivalier, and better borne then himselfe, and would make it good on Page  144 him with his Sword.

Which high comparison (though I beleeve true enough) together with his generous Charge and Challenge, Buckingham for that time swallowed, and only thought of this shift to vindicate himselfe on Inni∣ossa, which was, to cause the Prince to write a Letter of complaint to the King of Spaine, for abusing him and Buckingham; but the King of Spaine returned the Letter in a kind of scorne, to Inniossa, not as blam∣ing him, but rather commending him; and Inniossa in scorne sent it to the Prince, as if he should say, there is your Letter to wipe—, which is all it is fit for.

Now have you heard what made the King hate Buckingham, you shal also hear the reason of Buckinghams extreame hatred to the King, which was beleived the cause of his so spee∣dy death. Yelverton, a very faithful servant to the King, and his Attur∣ney General, and no lesse affectionate Page  145 to Somerset, being formerly raised by him without any seeking of his, or so much as within his thought, in∣somuch as to expresse his love to So∣merset, he desired to lay downe that great place, rather then aggravate, as his place required, against him. This man, as well out of his faithfulnesse to the King, as affection to Somerset, was made choyce of, to worke the downefall of Buckingham, in which he apparently shewed himselfe. But Buckingham, as I told you before, out of the Kings feare, that durst not maintaine his owne designe, but left his Instruments to the mercy of Buckinghams tyranny, being once gotten out of the toile, like a chased Boare, foamed, and bit at all came neare him, and amongst them first fastned on Yelverton, put him out of his place, and committed him close Prisoner to the Tower; Yelverton having shewed himselfe so faithfull to his Master, and he againe so un∣faithfull to him, to leave him to Page  146 undergo the whole burden of Buck∣inghams fury, did fly out in some passion before Sir Allen Appesly, then Lieutenant of the Tower, and Buckinghams great creature.

Appesly telling the Duke of some passages in his passion, the Duke one night about 12. a clock came in a a disguise, and with the Lieutenant only, entred Yelvertons longing, Yel∣verton at first sight started, verily be∣leeving, he came in that manner to murther him; yet, at last recollect∣ed himselfe, and said: My Lord, have you the Kings Warrant for this? the Duke said, no; then said Yel∣verton, how dare you enter a close prisoners lodging? it is as much as your life is worth: And as∣sure your selfe Master Lieutenant, the King shall know of this, and you must answer it. My Lord said, I come to you (as a friend, though, formerly, I confesse, upon just cause, your mortall enemy;) only to aske you but two questions, which if Page  147 you will resolve me, I vow to be a greater friend now then ever an e∣nemy, and can, and will restore you foure-fold: Yelverton told him, if they were such as he might, hee would.

The first he asked was, What wrong he had ever done him, that he so greedily thirsted after his blood? Yelverton replyed, never any, but I was set on by a power that I could not withstand, to doe what I did; he asked him by whom? by the King your Master, said he, who hates you more then any man living, which you might well understand, when in his Speech to the Parlia∣ment, he said, he would not spare any (no not any that were dearest to him, or lay in his bosome) by which he pointed them to you.

Wel, said Buckingham, I see you have dealt like a Friend with me, by many other concurrences as well as by this; give me your hand, hence∣forth you are my friend, and I am Page  148 yours; and I will raise you highet then I have cast you downe: which he had made good, had Yelverton lived to have injoyed it, for he was instantly released, and the next pre∣ferment he gratified him with was a Judges place, and he had been Lord Keeper, had not death prevented it. And if there were no other reason, but his change from a mortall ene∣my to so firme a friend, this were sufficient to confirme the truth of this story. But the Authour had this from Yelvertons owne relation, and cannot commend Yelverton, because it is verily beleeved this hastened the Kings death.

Now have you heard the true causes of Buckinghams hatred to the King, and the Kings to Buckingham, the King having the more power to revenge, had the lesse courage; Buck∣ingham lesse power, but more cou∣rage, sharpened with revenge: And however the World did beleeve the Kings inclination was out of a reli∣gious Page  149 ground, that he might not re∣venge, yet it was no other but a cowardly disposition that dust not adventure; But although the King lost his opportunity on Buckingham, yet the black plaister and powder did shew Buckingham lost not his on the King; and that it was no fiction but a reallity, that Padro Macestria had formerly told the King.

And now to returne from this di∣gression, which is not impertinent, (besides a great secret,) the Prince returnes from Spaine, contrary to expectation; in which the wisdome and gravity of the Spaniard failed him, especially if they did beleeve Padro Macestria (besides nature could not long support the old King) and then the Spaniard might have made no little advantage by injoying such a pledge: But they have confessed their errour, yet doe palliate it with having the Prince his faith and his proxie left with Digby, and got thence with the very same tricke Page  150 Sir Francis Michell said, he got out of the Inquisition at Rome.

Now is all the fault laid on Dig∣byes false play and unfaithfulnesse to his Master, and combining with the Spaniard, and by this peece of service expressing his hatred to the Spaniard for his owne ends (the Subjects of England having ever na∣turally hated them) Buckingham, the most hated man then living, from an accused man in the former Parliament, came to be the very darling of this Parliament, and a favourite to the whole Kingdome, which after King James his death he as soone lost againe, (so inconstant are the multitude.)

In the Banquetting-house before both Houses of Parliament, is Buck∣ingham to give an account of this voyage, which he did at large, and to every full point as a further at∣testation, he saith, how say you Sir? to which the Prince answe∣red, I, yea, or yes, and through all his Page  151 discourse laboured to make Bristoll as hatefull to this Parliament, as himselfe had been to the former: which, had these things delivered by him, and attested by the Prince, been truths; he had justly deserved death, the accusations were foule, and little lesse then treason, with∣out any legislative power.

Digby had some friends who in∣stantly sent this Declaration into Spaine, Digby acquaints that King, takes his leave of him for England: that King sets his danger before him, offers if he will stay with him, seeing it is for his sake he is like to suffer, he would make him much greater in Honour and fortune then his Master can doe; Digby gives him thankes, but sayes, he served so just a Master that would not condemne him unheard, and should he, yet he had much rather suffer under inno∣cency, then lye under the imputati∣on of a false accusation of a fugi∣tive, and Traytor, for the highest Page  152 preferment in the World.

Away therefore comes he, puts himselfe into a desperate passage, least the Parliament should have been dissolved before his comming, and so no place or meanes left him for his defence, but must lye under those false calumnies, and was here (as the Prince came into Spaine) sooner then either looked for, or welcome.

Into the Parliament comes he, with his Hat full of papers, where he puts himselfe upon this point, that if there were one syllable true that Buckingham had delivered, if this (holding up a Paper in his hand) be a true copy; I will yeeld my selfe guilty of all treasons can be laid to my charge, and said, these papers, (pointing to his Hat) shall make it manifest: Besides, some of them shall make Buckingham ap∣peare a very monster in his lascivi∣ous carriages, too too unchaste for the eares of this Honourable As∣sembly: Page  153Bristoll was instantly com∣mitted close prisoner to the Tower for a contempt; the next day hee was riding through Cheap-side in his Coach, by which it appeares Buckinghams power was in: the wane with his old Master, his rela∣tion and accusation being scanda∣lous and false; nor ever durst hee bring Bristol to any further tryall.

Whether this wound was deeper given by Bristol to Buckingham, or the Prince, I will leave to the rea∣der to judge, and will not my selfe determine; And how Bristol hath since stood in favour with the Prince, since he was King, may give a conjecture, that he tooke it as a wound to himselfe, I am sure it was an ill omen, and hath since given him lesse credit with his Subjects.

And in this Parliament doth Buckingham by his under-hand Mi∣nisters and Agents,* accuse Cranfield the Lord Treasurer, in which the Prince also shewes himselfe: Cran∣fieldPage  154 was so hated a fellow for his insolency, that a small accusation would serve the turne, as this truly was, had his care of expending the Kings Treasure been out of a true zeale: for it should seeme that the Prince sending for monies, Cranfield restrained his Expresse, using some words, that the journey it selfe was foolishly undertaken, and now must be maintained by prodigality, in which the Revenue of the Kingdom would not satisfie their vast expen∣ces; if this had been spoken out of a Noble minde, or out of that feel∣ing he had of the Kingdomes mise∣ry (as being Treasurer he ought to have done) had he fallen, it had been with honour and a generall compassion, but being spoken out of the pride and insolency of his owne heart, whose minde was ever so base, as never to discerne what Honour was, nor ever had he any other inherent Honour then what in his Apprentiship he raked out of Page  155 the Kennel; besides it was knowne to be out of hatred, that he was not of councell in the undertaking, he then looking at himselfe as the on∣ly States-man of all the Councell: He fell without pitty, and with much scorne, as I formerly set downe; yet left in a higher estate, and better condition then so worth∣lesse a fellow, and base Projector deserved, yet afterwards hee was a∣gaine questioned upon his accounts: But all this was nothing, himselfe, and his Posterity being left Peeres of the Realme.

In this case was the Prince a prin∣cipall actour, and did duly keep the earliest houres to sit in that Parlia∣ment, where, then he discerned so much juggling even to serve his owne ends on Cranfield, that it was not much to be wondred at, being come to be King, he did not affect them: And it was not well that a Prince should shew so much spleen, though Cranfield deserved any ill Page  156 could be cast on him, and who knowes whether God doth now punish by Tallion Law, to call his owne sin to remembrance, and to repent?

In this place I hold it not unfit to shew the Reader how the King hath ever been abused, and would be a∣bused, by over-much credulity, in the treaty of Spaine for marriages, as well as in all other Negotia∣tions.

You shall now perceive how the King was abused in this treaty, which was an error inexcusable, in himselfe and whole Councell. The Italians having a Proverbe, He that deceives me once, its his fault, but if twice, its my fault: this second time therefore could not but be the only fault of the King and Councell.

In Prince Henry his life time, the King had a little man, but a very great and wise Counsellour, his Se∣cretary of State, little Salisbury, that great States-man, who did in∣herit Page  157 all his Fathers wisdome, as well as his Offices, and the sonne came little short of the father, who was held the greatest States-man in the world, of his time. It is true, that one State may abuse another, but, not to finde out the abuse, is an unpardonable fault in any States∣man.

There was a treaty in the like case for Prince Henry, Salisbury in∣stantly discovered the juggling be∣fore any other did thinke of any, for although it went forward current∣ly, yet did Salisbury so put the Duke of Lerma unto it, that either it must be so, or they must confesse their juggling.

The Duke of Lerma denyed that ever there had been any treaty, or any intention from that State; Sa∣lisbury sent for the Embassadour to a full Councell, told him how hee had abused the King & State, about a treaty for Marriage, which he had no Commission for; that therefore Page  158 he was lyable to the Lawes of our Kingdome; for where any Embas∣sadour doth abuse a State by their Mrs. Commission, then the servant was freed; but without Commissi∣on, was culpable and lyable to be punished by the Lawes of that State, as being disavowed to be ser∣vant to the King his Master: The Embassadour answered gravely, he did not understand the cause of his comming, therefore was then un∣prepared to give any answer, but on Monday he would againe come, this being Saturday, and give his an∣swer. On Monday he comes, begins with these words, My soule is my Gods, my life my Masters, my reputa∣tion my owne, I will not forfeit the first and last, to preserve the second; Then layes downe his Commission, and Letters of instruction, under the Duke of Lerma's owne hand: he ac∣quitted himselfe honestly to this State, yet lost his owne, being in∣stantly sent for home, where he lived Page  159 and dyed in disgrace. Here was Le∣gatus vir bonus peregrè missus, sed non ad mentiendum reipublicae causa: And had we had as honest and good Statesmen, in after times (as Salis∣bury was, and so demonstrated him∣selfe in this weighty Affaire) this State could not have been so abused in all Treaties.

By this you see the advantage and benefit of one wise Counsellour in a whole State; and although Solo∣mon say, By the multitude of Coun∣sellors doth a kingdome flourish, yet surely he intended they should be wise men that are Counsellours; for we had such a multitude of Counsellours, that a longer table, and a larger Counsell-chamber was provided, yet our State was so far from flourishing, that it had been almost utterly destroyed; this was the last Statesman worthy of that name; and now are the ancient stock of Statesmen decayed, and with them all our honour and glory.

Page  160 I shall now bring my Story to an end, as I shall this Kings life; al∣though I have made some digressi∣ons, yet all pertinent to the dis∣course of this Kings reigne.

He now goes to his last Hunting journey, I meane the last of the yeare, (as wel as of his life) which he ever ended in Lent; and was sei∣zed on by an ordinary and moderate Tertian Ague, which at that season, according to the Proverb, was Phy∣sick for a King, but it proved not so to him; and poore King, what was but Physick to any other, was made mortall to him! yet not the Ague, as himselfe confessed to a ser∣vant of his now living, who cryed, courage Sir, this is but a small fit, the next will be none at all, at which he most earnestly looked, and said, Ah, it is not the Ague afflicteth me, but the black plaister and powder given me, and laid to my stomack; and in truth, the plaister so tormen∣ted him, that he was glad to have it Page  161 pulled off, & with it the skin also; nor was it faire dealing, if he had faire play (which himselfe suspected) often saying to Montgomery, whom he trusted above all men, in his sick∣nesse, for Gods sake, looke I have faire play) to bring in an Emprick, to apply any Medicines, whilst those Physitians appointed to attend him, were at dinner; nor could any but Buckingham answer it with lesse then his life at that present, as he had the next Parliament, had it not been dissolved upon the very que∣stioning him for the Kings death, and all those that prosecuted him, utterly disgraced and banished the Court.

Buckingham comming into the Kings Chamber, even when he was at the point of death, and an honest servant of the Kings crying: Ah my Lord, you have undone us, all his poore servants, although you are so well provi∣ded you need not care: At which, Buck∣ingham kickt at him, who caught Page  162 his foot, and made his head first come to ground, where Buckingham presently rising, run to the dying Kings bed side, and cryed, Justice, Sir, I am abused by your servant, and wrongfully accused; at which the poore King (become by that time speechlesse) mournfully fixed his eies on him, as who would have said, not wrongfully.

It were worth the knowledge, what his confession was, or what o∣ther expressions he made of him∣selfe, or any other; but that was on∣ly known to the dead Arch-Bishop Abbot, and the Bishop Williams then also Lord Keeper, and it was thought Williams had blabbed some∣thing which incensed the Kings an∣ger, and Buckinghams hatred so much against him, that the losse of his place could not be expiatory sufficient, but his utter ruine must be determined, and that not upon any knowne crime, but upon cir∣cumstances, aud examinations, to Page  163 pick out faults, committed in his whole life time; but his greatest crime for the present, (no question) was lapsus linguae, but quod defertur non aufertur, for although he esca∣ped by the calme of that Parlia∣ment, yet is he more ruined by this Parliament, and his owne folly; and truly we may observe the just Judgement of God on him, for fly∣ing from the Parliament his pro∣tector, to give wicked counsell to the King, his former prosecutor.

And now have I brought this great Kings Reigne to an end, in a volant discourse, and shall give you his Cha∣racter in briefe, and so leave him in peace after his life, who was stiled the King of peace in his life.

Page  164

THE CHARACTER OF KING JAMES.

THis Kings Character is much easier to take then hi Pi∣cture, for he could never be brought to sit for the taking of that, which is the reason of so few good peeces of him; but his Chara∣cter was obvious to every eye.

He was of a middle stature, more corpulent through his cloathes then in his body, yet fat enough, his cloathes ever being made large and easie, the Doublets quilted for ste∣letto proofe, his Breeches in great pleits and full stuffed: Hee was naturally of a timorous disposition, Page  165 which was the reason of his quilted Doublets: His eyes large, ever row∣ling after any stranger came in his presence, insomuch, as many for shame have left the roome, as being out of countenance: His Beard was very thin: His Tongue too large for his mouth, which ever made him speak full in the mouth, and made him drink very uncomely, as if eating his drink, which came out into the cup of each side of his mouth: His skin was as soft as Taf∣feta Sarsnet, which felt so, because hee never washt his hands, onely rubb'd his fingers ends slightly with the wet end of a Napkin: His Legs were very weake, having had (as was thought) some foul play in his youth, or rather before he was born, that he was not able to stand at seven years of age, that weaknesse made him ever leaning on other mens shoulders, his walke was ever circular, his fingers ever in that walke sidling about his Cod∣piece: Page  166 He was very temperate in his exercises, and in his dyet, and not intemperate in his drinking, however in his old age, and Bucking∣hams joviall Suppers, when he had any turne to doe with him, made him sometimes overtaken, which he would the very next day remem∣ber, and repent with teares; it is true, he dranke very often, which was rather out of a custom then any delight, and his drinks were of that kind for strength, as Frontiniack, Canary, High Country wine, Tent Wine, and Scottish Ale, that had he not had a very strong brain, might have daily been overtaken, although he seldom drank at any one time a∣bove four spoonfulls, many times not above one or two; He was ve∣ry constant in all things (his Favou∣rites excepted) in which he loved change, yet never cast down any (he once raised) from the height of greatnesse, though from their won∣ted nearnesse, and privacy; unlesse Page  167 by their own default, by opposing his change, as in Somersets case: yet had he not been in that foul poysoning busi∣nes; and so cast down himself; I do ve∣rily beleeve not him neither; for al his other Favorites he left great in Honour, great in Fortune; and did much love Mountgomery, and trust∣ed him more at the very last gaspe, then at the first minute of his Favo∣riteship: In his Dyet, Apparrell, and Journeys, he was very constant; in his Apparrell so constant, as by his good wil he would never change his cloathes untill worn out to very ragges: His Fashion never: Inso∣much as one bringing to him a Hat of a Spanish Block, he cast it from him, swearing he neither loved them nor their fashions. Another time, bring∣ing him Roses on his Shooes, he as∣ked, if they would make him a ruffe∣footed-Dove? one yard of six pen∣ny Ribbond served that turn: His Dyet and Journies was so constant, that the best observing Courtier of Page  168 our time was wont to say, were he asleep seven yeares, and then awake∣ned, he would tell where the King every day had been, and every dish he had had at his Table.

Hee was not very uxorious, (though he had a very brave Queen that never crossed his designes, nor intermedled with State affaires, but ever complyed with him (even a∣gainst the nature of any, but of a milde spirit) in the change of Favou∣rites;) for he was ever best, when furthest from his Queene, and that was thought to be the first grounds of his often removes, which afterwards proved habituall. He was unfortunate in the marriage of his Daughter, and so was all Chri∣stendome besides; but sure the Daughter was more unfortunate in a Father, then he in a Daughter: He naturally loved not the sight of a Souldier, nor of any valiant man; and it was an observation that Sir Robert Mansell was the only valiant Page  169 man he ever loved, and him he lo∣ved so intirely, that for all Bucking∣hams greatnesse with the King, and his hatred of Sir Robert Mansell, yet could not that alienate the Kings af∣fections from him; insomuch as when by the instigation of Cotting∣ton (then Embassadour in Spaine) by Buckinghams procurement, the Spa∣nish Embassadour came with a great complaint against Sir Robert Man∣sell, then at Argiers, to suppresse the Pirats, That he did support them; having never a friend there, (though many) that durst speake in his de∣fence, the King himselfe defended him in these words: My Lord Em∣bassadour, I cannot beleeve this, for I made choyce my selfe of him, out of these reasons; I know him to be valiant, ho∣nest, and Nobly descended as most in my Kingdome, and will never beleeve a man thus qualified will doe so base an act. He naturally loved honest men, that were not over active, yet ne∣ver loved any man heartily untill he Page  170 had bound him unto him by giving him some suite, which he thought bound the others love to him again; but that argued a poore disposition in him, to beleeve that any thing but a Noble minde, seasoned with vertue, could make any firme love or union, for mercinary mindes are carried away with a greater prize, but Noble mindes, alienated with nothing but publick disgraces.

He was very witty, and had as ma∣ny ready witty jests as any man li∣ving, at which he would not smile himselfe, but deliver them in a grave and serious manner: He was very li∣berall, of what he had not in his owne gripe, and would rather part with 100. li. hee never had in his keeping, then one twenty shillings peece within his owne custody: He spent much, and had much use of his Subjects purses, which bred some clashings with them in Parliament, yet would alwayes come off, and end with a sweet and plausible Page  171 close; and truly his bounty was not discommendable, for his raising Fa∣vourites was the worst: Rewarding old servants, and releiving his Na∣tive Country-men, was infinitely more to be commended in him, then condemned. His sending Embassa∣dours, were no lesse chargeable then dishonourable and unprofitable to him and his whole Kingdome; for he was ever abused in all Negotia∣tions, yet hee had rather spend 100000. li. on Embassies, to keep or procure peace with dishonour, then 10000. li. on an Army that would have forced peace with honour: He loved good Lawes, and had many made in his time, and in his last Par∣liament, for the good of his Sub∣jects, and suppressing Promoters, and progging fellowes, gave way to that Nullum tempus, &c. to be consi∣ned to 60. yeares, which was more beneficiall to the Subjects in respect of their quiets, then all the Parlia∣ments had given him during his Page  172 whole Reign. By his frequentin Sermons he appeared Religious; ye his Tuesday Sermons (if you wi•• beleeve his owne Country-men, tha lived in those times when they were erected, and well understood the cause of erecting them) were dedi∣cated for a strange peece of devo∣tion.

He would make a great deale too bold with God in his passion, both in cursing and swearing, and one straine higher vergeing on blasphe∣mie; But would in his better tem∣per say, he hoped God would not impute them as sins, and lay them to his charge, seeing they procee∣ded from passion: He had need of great assurance, rather then hopes, that would make daily so bold with God.

He was very crafty and cunning in petty things, as the circumventing any great man, the change of a Fa∣vourite, &c. insomuch as a very wise man was wont to say, he be∣leeved Page  173 him the wisest foole in Chri∣tendome, meaning him wise in mall things, but a foole in weighty ffaires.

He ever desired to prefer meane men in great places, that when he turned them out again, they should have no friend to bandy with them: And besides, they were so hated by being raised from a meane estate, to over-top all men, that every one held it a pretty recreation to have them often turned out: There were living in this Kings time, at one in∣stant, two Treasurers, three Secre∣taries, two Lord Keepers, two Ad∣miralls, three Lord chief Justices, yet but one in play, therefore this King had a pretty faculty in putting out and in: By this you may per∣ceive in what his wisdome consisted, but in great and weighty affaires e∣ven at his wits end.

He had a trick to cousen himselfe with bargains under hand, by taking 1000. li. or 10000. li. as a bribe, Page  174 when his Counsell was treating with his Customers to raise them to so much more yearly; this went into his Privy purse, wherein hee thought hee had over-reached the Lords, but cousened himselfe; but would as easily breake the bargaine upon the next offer, saying, he was mistaken and deceived, and there∣fore no reason he should keep the bargaine; this was often the case with the Farmers of the Customes; He was infinitely inclined to peace, but more out of feare then consci∣ence, and this was the greatest ble∣mish this King had through all his Reign, otherwise might have been ranked with the very best of our Kings, yet sometimes would hee shew pretty flashes of valour which might easily be discerned to be for∣ced, not naturall; and being forced, could have wished, rather, it would have recoiled backe into himselfe, then carryed to that King it had concerned, least he might have been Page  175 put to the tryall, to maintaine his seeming valour.

In a word, he was (take him alto∣gether and not in peeces) such a King, I wish this Kingdom have never any worse, on the condition, not any better; for he lived in peace, dyed in peace, and left all his Kingdomes in a peaceable condition, with his owne Motto:

Beati Pacifici.
Page  176

The Court of King CHARLES.

NOw having brought this peace∣able King to rest in all peace, the 27th. of March, his Son, by the sound of the Trumpet, was proclai∣med King, by the name of CHARLES the FIRST.

His Fathers Reign began with a great Plague, and we have seen what his Reign was; his Sons with a grea∣ter Plague, and the greatest that e∣ver was in these parts; we shall see what his Reign will be, and the ef∣fects of this plague have also hung as a fatall commet over this King∣dome, in some parts, and over Lon∣don in more particular, ever since: and we earnestly pray we may not fall into the hands of men, but ra∣ther, ever with that divinely inspi∣red royall Prophet David, that we fall into the hand of the Lord (for his mercies are great.)

This King was not Crowned with Page  177 that solemnity all other Kings have formerly been, by riding through the City in all state, although the same Triumphs were provided for him, as sumptuous as for any other; this, some have taken as an ill omen: Its further reported (which I will not beleeve) that he tooke not the ususall Oath all our Kings were bound unto at their Coronation, and its to be read in Covells book, if so, sure its a worse omen.

One more observation is, of this King, which I remember not to have happened in any other Kingdom, I am confident never in this; That with him did also rise his Fathers Favourite, and in much more glory and luster then in his Fathers time, as if he were no lesse an inheritor of his Sons favours, than the Sonne of the Fathers Crowne, and this, as it happened, was the worst omen of all; for, whereas in the Fathers time, there was some kinde of mode∣ration, by reason he was weary of Page  178 the insolency of his Favourite; in the sons time, he reigned like an im∣petuous storme, bearing downe all before him that stood in his way, and would not yeeld to him or comply with him: This shewed no Heroicall or Kingly spirit, for the King ever to endure him that had put such scornes and insolent af∣fronts on him in his fathers time.

This King (as his Father did set in peace) did rise like a Mars, as if he would say, Arma virum{que} cano, and to that end, to make himselfe more formidable to Spaine and France, he called a Parliament, wherein never Subjects expressed more hearty affections to a Sove∣reigne; and in truth, were more lo∣ving then wise, for, as if for an in∣come to welcome him, they gave him two intire Subsidies, and in so doing they brake the very foundati∣on and priviledges of Parliament, which never was wont to give Sub∣sidies but as a thankfull gratuity for Page  179 enacting good Lawes, therefore it is but Gods justice to repay them with Talion Lawes, to have their Priviledges broken, seeing they first chalked out the way. The King in requitall of this great love of theirs, did instantly dissolve the Parlia∣ment, which hath bred such ill blood in the veines of the Subjects to their Sovereign, and in the Sove∣reign to the Subject, that it is like to produce an epidemicall infection.

But the occasion taken to dis∣solve it was worst of all; for, Buck∣ingham, by his insolent behaviour, had not onely lost that love his ha∣tred to Spaine had procured him, but was now growne into such an hatred that they fell on him for the death of his old Master, which had been of a long time before but whis∣pered; but now, the Examinations bred such confessions, that it looked with an ugly deformed poysonous countenance, and nothing but the dissolution of that Parliament could Page  180 have saved his dissolution and that with a brand of shame and infamy, as well as of ingratitude.

I remember I heard a noble Gen∣tleman, an old Parliament man, of that Committee for Examinations say, at first he derided the very thought of it; but, after the first dayes Examination it proved so foule, as that he both hated and scorned the name and memory of Buckingham; and though man would not punish it, God would, which proved an unhappy prediction.

This dissolving the Parliament was ill relished by the people, and that which to them did seeme the cause, worse, and to make the case yet fouler, and that it must needs be the evident cause; Buckinghams Counsels were so stupid and himself so insolent, that he did thinke it a glory to disgrace all those that fol∣lowed that businesse, in that Parlia∣ment, or that seemed inquisitive thereafter; and caused many old Page  181 Servants of the Kings, he formerly favoured very much, to be banished from Court, never to returne more, nor did they ever, as Clare, Crofts, Sir Fra. Stewart, &c. nay Dr. Cragg, his Phisitian, who from his very child∣hood, had the generall repute of a very honest man, for expressing him∣selfe like an honest man in the Kings presence, was instantly dismis∣sed, never could recover his place or favour more.

Now also is Williams, Lord Kee∣per turned out of his place, and Coven∣try the Kings Atturney put in, who (had Buckingham lived) had as soon followed in the same steps.

Then goes Buckingham into France on a stately Embassie for that Lady the King had seen, and set an affecti∣on on in his passage to Spaine, which was obtained with small intreaty.

Now doth Buckingham soare so high both in his Masters favours and in the pride of his own heart, as he alters all great Officers, makes war Page  182 against Spaine and France, the quar∣rel only his, voiced to be on strange grounds, the successe accordingly▪ Navies, Armies, and nothing but war appeares, as if we intended in shew to conquer all that opposed. Lord Wimbleton the General, from whom as little could be expected, as he performed, carrying a powerfull Army to Cales, after an infinite ex∣pence, and drinking much Spanish Wines, and beating out the heads of what they could not drinke, (as if they intended to overthrow that yeares trade of Spanish Wine) re∣turned as like a valiant Commander, as he ever was reputed; whereas, had he brought home those wasted Wines, it may be they would have defrayed the charge of that expe∣dition.

After the returne of that wise Pageantisme, Denbigh is sent into France to aide Rochell, who managed it better then his great Kinsman, Buckingham, who would afterwards Page  183 needs goe▪ to doe great exploits, for he brought his ships and men safe againe, the other left his men in powdering tubs, as if he meant to have them kept sweet against his next comming thither: In short, this unhappy voyage lost all the honour our glorious ancestors had ever got∣ten over that Nation, there being so many brave gentlemen wilfully lost, as if that voyage had been on pur∣pose plotted to disable our Nation, by taking away so many gallant brave young spirits; so many of our Colours lost, as Trophies of their Victory, and of our shame, hung up in Nostredame Church, that the brave Talbot, and Salisbury, with many other our valiant Ancestors, will rise up in Judgement against him, for that every way inglorious Act. Nay, to how low an ebbe of honour was this our poore despi∣cable Kingdome brought, that (e∣ven in Queene Elizabeths time the glory of the World,) a great Noble∣man, Page  184 being taken prisoner▪ was free∣ly released with this farewell given with him, that they desired but two English Mastieffes for his Ran∣some!

But the King by that unnecessary and dishonourable War▪ was driven to that exigency for want of money, that he was forced to pawn his rich Cupboard of Plate to Amsterdam, and to send Cottington into Spain (in a manner) to beg a peace, which having obtained, it was thought so great a service of him, that it raised him to all his Honor and Fortunes.

Yet (all the while) Rochell in sharpe distresse was left unrelieved, although otherwise intended, or but pretended rather. For the Cour∣ting betwixt the Duke and the Go∣vernour of the Isle of Ree, in sending complements and Presents to each other, shewed rather an intimate dearnesse, then any hostility to be meant between them. And sure I am, the successe made it apparent, Page  185 that their▪ purpose was no better than to carry so many goodly Gen∣tlemen, to the Slaughter-house, and Powdering-Tub (as even now I in∣stanced.)

Yet was the King so content to be abused, as publickly at his Din∣ner he delivered it for a miracle, that having such ill successe, there were so few men lost, for that as many came home as went forth (as appeared by the Chequer-Rol) within five hun∣dred, At which a Gentleman (whose faithfull Valour prompted him to speake a truth in season, though theirs did not them to fight) stand∣ing at the back of the Kings chair, said, yea, Sir, as you hear, that hear very little of Truth▪ But if you please to inquire of such as can and dare in∣forme you truly, you shall find ma∣ny thousands fewer came home then went forth: For which relati∣on this honest Tell-troth was com∣manded presently from his Court-Attendance, which doom he never Page  186 could get reverst, wherein you may behold the Power of Buckingham with the King, whose Word stood for a Law.

Which Power of his, grew now so exorbitant, he aspires to get high∣er Titles both in Honour and Place, as, Prince of Tipperary (a place so called in Ireland) and Lord High Constable of England (an Office aimed at by that Monster and Ma∣chivillian, Leicester, in Queen Eliza∣beths time, but he therein was crossed and contradicted by the then Lord Chancellour Hatton) now affected by Buckingham, who herein wrote after Leicesters ambitious example but he crossed too (by President) with Coventry now Lord Keeper, and no question but upon those just grounds his Predecessor did: For, you must understand, this Office hath an Authority annexed unto it, to call any Subject in question for his life, by trying, condemning and ex∣ecuting him, in despight of the King Page  187 himselfe. Nay, some have made no bones on't to affirme, that (for misgovernment) the King himselfe is not exempted from that Officers Power; Politickly therefore did the aforementioned Hatton (who well understood the validity of such a Power) when Leicesters Commis∣sion was in dispute) to tel the Queen that his own hand should never strike off his own head; which word was e∣nough to her who was hereat so wise as also in all other matters of State∣concernment, wherein as she were hinted to a fore-sight of any preju∣dice, she knew how to prevent it. And thus that ended in his time.

But Buckinghams ambition would not be so bounded; For, upon the opposing it by Coventry, he peremp∣torily thus accosted him, saying, who made you, Coventry, Lord Keeper? he replyed, the King; Buckingham, sur-replyed, Its false, 'twas I did make you, and you shall know that I, who made you, can, and will un∣make Page  188 you. Coventry thus answered him; Did I conceive I held my Place by your Favour, I would pre∣sently unmake my selfe, by rendring the Seale to his Majesty. Then Buckingham in a scorn and fury flung from him, saying, you shall not keep it long. And, surely, had not Felton prevented him, he had made good his Word.

And before that hapned, Weston was, by his power, & for his ends; made Treasurer, it should seem, upon some assurance from him, that he would find ways where-out to raise monys into the Treasury (he judging him to be one that out of his own necessitous condition would adventure on any desperate projection to raise himself, but yet withall to fill the Chequer Coffers) who was no sooner war∣med in his Office, but hee began to shew his inbred base disposition to his Rayser, Buckingham, as formerly he had don to Cranfield, who was in∣deed his preserver from perishing in Page  189 a Prison, whence he redeemed him, making him a free partaker first of his bounteous Table, then raising him shortly after to be Chancellour of the Exchequer; who at length, for requitall, supplanted him. But for all this, Buckingham feared not, his high spirit in himselfe and vast Power with the King were so predo∣minant and unmoveable: He now therefore used at his owne pleasure to come to the Counsell Table (he being then honoured as the Oracle from whom they gaped for all An∣swers) but ever made them wait his comming, and were so tutored to their duteous observance of him, that at his approach or returning thence, they ever must rise as if he had been the King himselfe. (So that you may see to what a pretty passe those great men by their poor spirits had brought themselves.)

But on a time, there issued this amongst other passages of insolen∣cies from Buckingham, who com∣ming Page  190 into the Councell, without any other Court-preface, sayes to the Treasurer Weston, My Lord, the King must have 60000l. provided a∣gainst to morrow morning. The Lords startled at the mention of such a sum (the whole Exchequer not ha∣ing seen within its keeping scarce 1000l. in many yeares) and could not imagine how, unlesse by the Philosophers stone, such a sum was possible to be gotten, but yet all loo∣king on Weston (to whom it was in this case proper to make answer) who bethought himselfe what to say (the rest every one, the while, gazing at each other, another while againe all at Weston, as a man of great wisdome, for so was hee ac∣counted (of a Plebejan.) At length, up he stands, and thus he answers Buckingham; My Lord, The Exche∣quer is in a deep consumption. Wher∣at Buckingham interrupts him, say∣ing, How, Sir! You came in to cure that Consumption, and to restore it to its Page  191 usefull plenitude. I remember you pro∣mised (like a Mountebanke) when you were to be invested by the King, you would do so, therefore, Sir, see you the money be provided, otherwise you shall hear further of it. With that high strain hee rose up and departed.

Now, are all ways indeavoured to get mony from the Subjects, which was not to be gotten by fair means, the King having tryed all the shifts which any former Prince (out of the Parliamentary way) had ever don, and had great sums brought in, such as none of his Predecessors ever had; of which, one was the Royall Sub∣sidy, every man lending as much as the summe in the Subsidy towards which he was assessed: as if (for ex∣ample) assessed at 40. li. besides so much payd, he lent also 40. li. and so from the least to the greatest pro∣portions assessed.

Yet all this would not serve him, but that quickly vanished, then all other faire meanes proving (as was Page  192 thought for their profusenesse) too sant and slow; Force then must be the last remedy; the King must keep standing Garrisons to awe his good Subjects, and they consisting too of strangers not of Natives, To that end, one Dalbier (that had been Generall of Count Mansfield Horse) is dealt with for the raising of 1000 or 2000 German Horse, the most whereof to bee quartered be∣twixt Gravesend and London; For ad∣vancing of which service, Sir Wil∣liam Balfore (as great a Servant and Confident he is now of this Par∣liament) was sent to Hamborough with 30000. l. to buy and to bring o∣ver those Horse with their impres∣sed Riders, and Furniture, but ma∣ny of them ready to bee imbarked, it should seeme they were told by the way, by some well affected to England, that the King had not mo∣ny to continue them in Pay; and Plunder they could not there, for they should be so invironed with Page  193 Sea, that there was no flying, but they must expect to have all their throats cut, if they took any thing from any man: Upon which, those Rascals, out of feare, not conscience, refused to come over. However, Balfore so wel lickt his fingers in that employment, as that he therewith laid the foundation of his future fortunes; yet, if this Parliament consider well this action of his, there is no reason he should be so deare unto them: For, of any thing yet toucht upon against any man by this Parliament, I dare affirme this (of his) to be the greatest peece of villany, and to be the nearest way to render us all slaves, and to make us have neither propriety in our E∣states, Wives, nor Children. And yet was this Balfore a principall un∣detaker, and actor in this pernici∣ous designe, and (perhaps for that very cause) the greatest creature of Buckinghams that ever was.

In this intervall, their shifts not Page  194 avayling them; (to see therefore if by this faire means their ends might be obtained) another Parliament was summoned, wherein after some expostulations on both sides, there proved no better a good speed and successe then a meere frustration of all hopes on both hands; which for the Kings part, hee apprehended with so great aversnesse, that, as 'twas said, he made a vow never to call more Parliaments.

Forreigne Forces, and fraudulent and faire devices home-spun, failing, all; now must Projects in all their variegated inventions bee (set on foot; to which sage (or rather ru∣full) purpose, one Noy, a very fa∣mous Lawyer as ever this Kingdome bred, and (formerly) a great Pa∣triot, and the only searcher of Pre∣sidents for the Parliaments; by which he grew so cunning as he un∣derstood all the shifts which for∣mer Kings had used to get monies with.

Page  195 This man the King sends for, tels him, he wil make him his Attorney Noy (like a true Cynick as he was) for that time went away, not retur∣ning to the King so much as the ci∣vility of a Thankes; nor, indeed, was it worth his thankes, I am sure he was not worthy of ours. For, af∣ter the Court sollicitings had be∣witched him to become the Kings, he grew the most hatefull man that ever lived. And its to me a won∣der, that this Parliament of Wonders doth not enact a Law, that his very name should never more be in this Kingdome, he having been as great a Deluge to this Realme, as the Flood was to the whole World: for, he swept away all our Privi∣ledges, and in truth hath been the cause of all these miseries this king∣dome▪ hath since been ingulphed; whether you consider our Religion, (he being a great Papist, if not an Atheist) and the protector of all Papists, and the raiser of them up Page  196 unto that boldnesse they were now growne unto, who formerly had some moderation) or, if you consi∣der our Estates and Liberties, they were impoverished and enthralled, by multitudes of projects, and ille∣gall wayes; this Monster was the sole Author of all.

But first, now because there must be some great man (as a Captaine Projector) to lead some on, and hearten others to follow, Sir George Goring leads up the March and Dance with the Monopolie of To∣bacco, and Licensing of Tavernes, setting some up, where, and as many as he pleased, and this done by a Seale appendicular to an Office e∣rected by him for that purpose, as if authorised by a Law; besides all this, hee hath Pensions out of the pretermitted Customs: inso∣much as I have heard it most credi∣bly reported, that his Revenue was 9000. l. per annum, all of these kindes; and for this peece of good Page  197 service he was made a Lord, and Privy Councellour, to countenance his traine of Projectors the better.

Then did Weston enhance the Cu∣stomes, and laid new and heavyer impositions on all things exported or imported; with such unconscio∣nable rates upon Tobacco, that millions of pounds of it lay rotting in the Custome-house (the Mer∣chants refusing to pay the Custome) besides losse of all other charges for the Tobacco it selfe. In short, there was not any thing (almost) that any man did eate, drinke, or weare, or had in his house from forraigne parts, or scarce any domesticke commodities exempted, but he paid as it were, an Excise for it; yea, at last, even Cards and Dice escaped not, but they were monopolized by a great Councellour, the Lord Cot∣tington: yea, (to keep their hands in ure) they got Patents for the very Rags, Marrow-bones, Guts, and such like Excrements, as were Page  198 thought of no use but to be cast on the Dunghils; and he was held the bravest Common-wealths man that could bring in the most money, (yet, the Kings private Purse, or publick Treasury little or nothing bettered, but) to impoverish and vex the Subject, and to no other end; for which he was ordinarily rewarded with honour.

This good service (the quite contrary way) did Weston and Noy doe for the King; and, I beleeve you shall see God reward them and their posterity; for the one, like a Jonas Gourd sprang up suddenly from a beggerly estate to much Honour, and great Fortunes, will shortly wither; the other, his Son and Heire was killed in France, pre∣sently after his death, and when both are dead, let their names and memory rot▪ and be extinct from the face of the earth.

Now doth Buckingham provide for another forraigne Enterprise, Page  199 (but carried so close, I could never learne what it was; nor did any wise men much inquire after it, assuring themselves that such coun∣sells could produce no better effects than those former.) In the begin∣ning, yea even at the very entrance thereunto, he did so stinke in the Nostrils of God and Man, that God made one Felton his Instrument to take such a Monster (as he was in∣deed) from his longer domineering amongst men, by a blow as feare∣full as strange, after which he had not time to say, Lord have mercy on him; a just judgement on him that forsooke God, to seeke to the Devill by Witches, and Sorcerers in his life; one whereof was Doctor Lamb (who was his great defensi∣tive preserver as he thought him) whose fate it was to be brained by a Shoo-makers Last when he least look'd for it; the other was stabb'd the next morning after that night he had caused a Fellow to be han∣ged, Page  200 (not suffering him to have that nights respite (after his sentence, and offence (what ere it was) to re∣pent him of his sins) with this vow, he would neither eate nor drinke untill he see him dye; God, in requitall of his mercilesse cruelty, would nei∣ther suffer him to eate nor drinke before he dyed, by that dismall stroake of a poore tenpenny knife, of the said Feltons setting home: Thus neare alike in time and man∣ner were these two hellish Agents Catastrophees. And now is set that great Sun (or rather portendous Comet) from whose influences all the Officers and Ministers had by reflexion their life and heat.

After his death, the very name of a Favourite dyed with him, none singly engrossing the Kings eare and favour; but, a regular motion was set to all Officers, as appertained to their severall places; as, to the Arch-Bishop, the mannagement and chiefe super-intendency of the Page  201 Church; to the Lord Treasurer, the Exchequer and the Customs; to the Lords, Keepers of the Great and Privie Seales, what belonged to equity; to the Judges, what be∣longed to Law, so that (one would have thought) all things now went so just and equall, and in their pro∣per Channell, as none but might now expect from that new and bet∣ter government halcyon dayes.

But, it far'd farre otherwise, (God being angry at the Nations sins, the generall juggling of the State was one, and a great one) all those procedures being but in ap∣pearance, righteous, nothing really so: but, like the Apples of Sodome, faire in shew, rotten and corrupt within. For, now instead of the late (but one) Favourite, every great Officer, and Lord of the Coun∣cell proved a very Tyrant; and it appeared, that not their vertues, but the former Favourites power only did restraine them from being so; Page  202 for, that falling (together with himselfe, as you have heard) and they left to their owne Arbitrary power; you would verily have be∣leeved that Hell had been broke loose: And to make good that Me∣taphor, one of the Councell▪ being told by a Gentleman, that the coun∣try was much troubled at a certaine great grievance, replyed, Doth that trouble them? by God, there are seaven worse Devills to be shortly let out amongst them. And (in sober sadnesse) they all might truly have undergone the name of Legion, for, they were all many Devills, and (like true, De∣vills) tooke pleasure in tormenting. So that hereby may be perceived, the Kingdome in generall had no benefit (though some particular men, as Weston Treasurer, Coventry Lord Keeper, and all such as paid his beggerly kindred Pensions, which now were ceased) by this mans death, whose purpose 'twas to have turn'd out of place both Co∣ventryPage  203 and Weston, (before his last in∣tended voyage.) But, now did Weston begin to be more cruell in Pride and Tyranny than Buckingham had been before him, and, (had not the Arch-Bishop (Laud) ballanced him) he would have been more insuffe∣rable. He cheated the King in the sale of Timber, and of Land, and in the letting of his Customs, the Arch-Bishop notwithstanding truly informing the King thereof; Weston was so mad at the thought of it, he would often say to his friends (in private) That little Priest would Mo∣nopolize the Kings eare, for he was e∣ver whispering to the King.

And now begin the Councel Ta∣ble, the Star-Chamber, and High Commission to bee Scourges▪ and Tortures of the Commonwealth, by Imprisonments, and Mutilations of Members; and were made, (some of them) by sinings, the greatest incomes to the Exchequer; and, in truth, did now put down the Com∣mon Page  204 Laws deciding of Meum and Tuum. And if any (desiring to appeal from them) refused to stand there to their censures, they were com∣mitted untill they would submit thereunto. If men sent unto by them for money, refused it, they would imprison them till they would give or lend, and if any were summoned thither they had a mind to quarrell with, in whom they could not find a fault, they would make one, by saying, the Gentleman laughs at us: Or, the Gentleman saith thus, and thus; it may be that hee had not in his thought, and yet there should not want a false wit∣nesse; for, some Lords that sat with their backs towards them, or so farre off that they could not heare, yet would testifie either the words or actions; or, for want of this, a Clerk of the Councell should bee called to witnesse, who, for his pro∣fit, must swear what any Lord said: If they hit not upon that trick, then Page  205 sometimes they would contrive to put a Gentleman into passion by cal∣ling him some disgracefull name, or by scoffing at him; so that, indeed, the Councell Table was growne more like a Pasquil then a grave Se∣nate. But if the spirit of the man wer such, that he could not take those indignities without some regret, it was well for him, if he escaped with imprisonment, and not called Ore tenus to the Star-Chamber, and fined (as many were) to his undoing, for to that point were now the Fines of that Court risen.

As for the High Commission-Court, that was a very (Spanish-like) Inquisition, in which all pol∣lings and tyrannizings over our E∣states and Consciences were practi∣sed, as were in the other over our E∣states and Bodyes.

Then were the Judges so much their Servants or rather Slaves; that what ere they illegally put in exe∣cution, they found▪ Law to main∣taine.

Page  206 But, that which is a wonder a∣bove all wonders is, that Coventry, who formerly had gained the opini∣on of a just and honest man, was a principall in all these miscarriages, yet dyed he unquestioned; when, had his actions been scanned by a Parliament (in that they were not, you may see what opinion is, which in the multitude blindeth the under∣standing) he had been found as foul a man as ever lived.

Finch, a fellow (of an excellent tongue but not of one dram of Law, made (for all that) Cheife Justice of the Common-Pleas (the onely Court most learned in the Law; yet he brought all the learned Judges, except two only (Hutton and Crook) to be of his illegall opinion for ship∣mony. This surely, must be a pu∣nishment from God on them, and us for our sins, otherwise it had been impossible so many grave Iudges should have been over-ruled by such a slight and triviall fellow.

Page  207 Now also all Officers in all places took what Fees they pleased, as if in a Iubilee; Amongst the rest those of the Star-Chamber, the Councell Table, and the High Commission were very Grandees: Yea, the ve∣ry Messengers (to them) were coun∣tenanced in their abuse, and in∣sultings over the Gentry (when in their clutches:) and to such a strange passe were disorders come unto, that every Lacquey of those great Lords might give a Check-Mate to any Gentleman, yea, to any Country Nobleman, that was not in the Court favour.

And to fill full the measure of the times abounding iniquity, the Court Chaplines (and others elsewhere) with the Reverend Bishops them∣selves, did preach away our liber∣ties and proprieties, yet kept they Divinity enough for their owne in∣terests: for, they concluded, all was either Gods or the Kings, their part belonged to God, in which Page  208 the King had no propriety: Our part belonged wholly to the King, in which we had propriety no lon∣ger, when the King were disposed to call for them, so that, betwixt the Law and the Gospel, we were eject∣ed out of Lands, Liberties, and Lives at pleasure.

And now is Gods time come to visit with his Iustice; and behold it: For, the pit they digged for others they themselves are fallen in∣to, for all their Honours, Lands and Liberties are a gasping (and the Iudges are but in very little better case) for, the Parliament will doe that to them by the Law, which they would have done to us by wre∣sting the Gospel.

But, what needed all that joy for the death of Buckingham! Sith the times succeeding him, have been so infinitely beyond him in all oppres∣sion, as they are like to bring all manner of miseries both upon King & people: So that in truth, his Hydra's Page  209 head being struck downe, an hun∣dred more instead thereof appeared, which never durst, in his life time: And as he got much by Suites, so did Weston, much, by cheating (yet all came out of the Subjects purses) and Coventry (that so generally a re∣puted honest man) got such an estate by Bribery and In-justice, that he is said to have left a Family worth a Million; Which may commend his Wisdome, but in no wise his Ho∣nesty.

And now also dies Weston, after he had first brought in (as, you may remember, I told you, himselfe was by Cranfield) Sir Thomas Wentworth (after Earle of Strafford) the active manager of the State, and sole Go∣vernour of the King.

This Strafford, without doubt, was the ablest Minister that this Kingdome had since Salisburies time; and to speak uprightly, there was not any but himselfe worthy of that name, amongst all the Kings Coun∣cell; Page  210 yet, I am confident, by the weaknesse of that Boord, his abili∣ties in State affaires were judged more then they were; and besides, that very word of States-man was now grown a stranger to our Nati∣on: Nor was he as Salisbury, (or our ancient Heroes) a generall States-man, nor was it possible he should be, he not having that breeding himselfe: Nor kept he any upon his charge in forraigne parts for intelli∣gence: Nor had he such a Tutor as the other had of his Father (who was the most absolute States-man in the world) whose very Papers (which were left to this Salisbury, and ser∣ved as so many rich Presidents, and Instructors to him) were able (if wanting in abilities of his own) to make him an able States-man. But I held Straffords abilities to be more on this side, then beyond the Seas; yet, might he challenge the title of a good Patriot: And so indeed, he was, before he turned a Courtier; Page  211 After that, he converted his studies, and endeavours, to make the King an absolute Arbitrary Monarch, by screwing up the Regall Preroga∣tive to so high a strain as hath made it crack; and by raising his Reve∣nues so high that he made them fal; in which also his owne interest was concerned: For, he did neither serve God nor the King for nought. Nor would Straffords abilities have been so transparent, had any such Con∣currents as Buckhurst, Walsingham, or Hatton been now living, or such an one as the Earle of Essex (who was Salisburies Antagonist.) But this man had onely the Arch-Bishop (whose proper Element too, was but the Church) and they drew both in one line. And here I shal give you one note of Straffords failing in his Ma∣ster-piece, that he was no such ab∣solute wise man (that could not find the just Medium of the peoples Tem∣per) but by striving to make the King all; and on a sudden, he made Page  212 the King lesse, and himselfe lesse then nothing. And, had he beene wise, he could not but find the Kings spirit was not to undergoe, nor to goe through with great actions, but would faile under them, and crush the owners: Which he to his la∣mentable experience hath found and felt too true. Besides, I much doubt Straffords owne spirit, that, seeing his wisdom was too short to protect him, his spirit was so low to faile him, that hee did not, like Sampson, pull downe the house up∣on others heads, but fall (like a tame foole) himselfe alone, caught in a gin, and lay still without any fluttering: When, surely, some o∣thers of the Cabinet Councell were as deep as himselfe in any de∣signe.

You have here now seene a great Subject, yea, the greatest that e∣ver our eyes beheld, that was no Favourite, and greater in his for∣tunes then many Favourites.

Page  213 You have also seen a King, the greatest that our Nation ever had, both in Prerogative, Power, and Re∣venues, and the most absolute over his Subjects; The one fallen be∣low the earth, the other so low upon earth, that I wish I could but see him in the same state his peace∣able Father left him, who kept his Prerogative to the height, without cracking it, because hee had able Ministers and Councellors left, who were of Queen Elizabeths stocke; but this Kings Ministers straine all so high, that the very ligaments, and nerves of Sovereignty are quite broken in sunder; I wish them well sothered again.

But because, if I write further, I must tune to a much lower key, I will here end with my prayers; That, God would give the King a wise Councell, and an understanding heart to bee able to give himselfe Councell what will be best for himselfe, his Po∣sterity, and the people committed to Page  214 his Charge: And that hee may di∣scern such as councell him for their own private ends, and interest, not for his Honour and Safety.

And here do I draw a Curtaine be∣twixt the time past, and that to come in this Kings Reign, desi∣ring it may never be remembred to Posterity.

Page  215

Observations (instead of a Cha∣racter) upon this King, from his Childe-hood.

IT being improper to write the Character of Kings before their Deaths (I wish this were not much nearer the period of his happinesse than his death) give me therefore leave to present unto your view some remarkable observations of this un∣fortunate King.

In his very infancy; he was so subject to that wilfull humour (still possessing him) that if any thing crossed him, he could hardly be stilled; which then they were forced to give way unto, by reason of that extreame weaknesse which disabled him (as the like did his Father) untill the 7th. yeare Page  216 of his Age, to goe, or scarce to stand alone; crawling, (when of himselfe he would be in motion) upon all foure, in a most unseemly manner: For the recovery whereof, he was beholding to the skill of one Master Stutavile, an excellent Artist for strengthening Limbs, and straitning crooked Bodies; but, for the rectifying his wayward disposi∣tion, to the tender care of the Lady Carey, afterward Countesse of Mon∣mouth.

This humour of his principally he tooke from his Mother, who notwithstanding was a gallant La∣dy; nor was he free from it by the Fathers side, though his timorous nature gave it an allay. His Mother (who loved him so dearly, that she said, she loved him as she did her Soul, yet) was wont to say, that she must with griefe of heart confesse, He was a foole, and wilfull, which would hereafter endanger him the losse of his Crowne.

Page  217 A sad, Censure, yet it should seeme Propheticall. But, it were a lesson fit for all Parents learning, rather to leave their Children to Gods Providence, than to pry into his office of fore knowledge.

He ever exprest an ill nature, by taking delight to doe ill offices to his Fathers servants, as well as to his owne; witnesse that instance con∣cerning Master Murrey his Tutor, and Doctor Hackwell placed about him, to instruct him in the princi∣ples of Religion, who (rightly) judging it co-incident to that his employment, did therefore (upon the Treaty for the Spanish Match) deliver him a small Trea∣tise in Manuscript, therein intima∣ting his advice and judgement to informe his Conscience aright, a∣gainst coupling himselfe with a Pa∣pist, saying to him, Sir, I beseech you make use of this, by reading it your selfe, but if you shew it to your Father, I shall Page  218 be undone for my good will. The Prince returned him many thankes, and assured him, it should never goe farther then the cabinet of his owne breast; but withall, he asked him, to whom he had shewed it? Hackwell replyed, the Arch-Bishop (Abbot) hath read it, who re∣turning him it, said to him, Well done thou good and faithfull servant. Be∣sides him, he told the Prince, he had only shewed it to Mr. Murrey the Tu∣tor, who belike being better ac∣quainted with his Masters perfidi∣ous disposition then the other, did then dis-swade him from delivering it to the Prince, for, saith he, he will betray you. And it so fell out, for within lesse then two houres after his said engagement to the Doctor, he presents it to his Father; upon which, he, or any through whose hands and cognizance it had passed before, were all under a disgrace, and banished the Court (only Mur∣rey was afterwards Provost of Eaton.) Page  219 Here was an Embleme of his breach of Oathes, and protestations in fu∣ture, and of his untrustinesse, which in a subject would have been called treachery.

Such a one too he shewed him∣selfe, in the businesse of Rochell; which, after his faire promises, and deep imprecations for their reliefe, and assistance, wherein they put some confidence, was meerly be∣trayed by him; insomuch that when the Rochel Agents found themselves abused through their whole yeares attendance, they left this bitter jeere upon him, that now they could rightly call England the Land of Promise.

He seldome loved any but to serve his turne, and would him∣selfe serve a turne to doe any mis∣chiefe, as was to be seene by his saying Amen to every full point of Buckinghams Accusation in the face of the Parliament against Bristol, for his miscarriage in Spaine; when it Page  220 appeared by Bristols defence in Pub∣lick, before the face of that same Parliament, that there was not scarce one syllable had any truth in it; who also freely put himself upon the Test, that if there were any truth in that combined Accusation against him, he would yeeld himselfe guil∣ty of it all.

He was of a very poore spirit, which may be conceived (amongst other things) by his making Buck∣ingham his Privado, after he came to the Crown; otherwise would he never have forgotten those unsuffe∣rable insolencies offered him being Prince, what they were you have al∣ready heard. His Predecessor Henry the fifth (and so his brother Henry) would have instructed him other∣wise; for, although (its true) no∣ble mindes should forget injuries, so as not to revenge them, yet so, as not to countenance the doers of them, especially to take them into Page  221 so much nearnesse and dearnesse as he did him after those two proud affronts, which argued in him, as I said before, a poore and ignoble spirit.

He had all his Kingdomes left in peace and tranquility by his Father, which he soone after made a shift to distemper by a foolish Warre upon France and Spaine, and by a more foolish conduct of either ignorant, unexperienced, or co∣wardly Commanders. And in truth, if you will give credit to Vox populi, (the Booke so called, written by one Scot) they were suitable to the grounds of such Quarrels, being no fairer than the satisfying the beastly appetite of his Favourite, who must be reveng'd (forsooth) upon those States. In which I admire Gods Justice, that he who unjustly made War upon unwarrantable grounds, should have Warre thus brought home unto him; so that now God Page  222 hath given him the same measure he hath met to others, even full, pres∣sed down, and running over.

I wish I may have a time to give him a fairer Character when he is dead, then are my observations in his life; but I may rather wish then hope, in that course he yet conti∣nues.

Page  223

Certaine observations before Queene Elizabeths death.

I Cannot but admire Gods Provi∣dence in bringing Peace, when nothing was thought of but War; and now bringing a cruell Warre, when nothing could be expected but peace: Peace with all forraigne E∣states, peace at Home. Not long before the death of Queene Eliza∣beth all the discourse was in a secret whispering, on whom the Succes∣sion would fall; some said, the La∣dy Arabella, some the King of Scot∣land, and reason given pro and con on both sides; they who were for her, saying, the Lady Arabella was a Native, and a Maid, and that this Kingdome never flourished more Page  224 then under a Maidens Reigne: O∣thers for the Scot, said, that the King of Scots was more neare to the Crowne by descent; farther off say others, as being a Stranger, and that Nation ever in Hostility against us. Nor did the King himselfe be∣leeve he should have come in with a sheathed Sword, which appeared by that Letter he produced of the Earle of Northumberlands, that if he made any doubt hereof, he would bring him forty thousand Catho∣licks should conduct him into Eng∣land. But, the Queene dyed, the King comes in peaceably, even to the admiration of all Forraigne Princes, and to the gnashing of their teeth; but, the reason was, they had lived in obedience under a just Sovereigne, who was wont ever to say, when any great man had opprest a poore Gentleman that Pe∣titioned her for redresse against such oppression, when all the great Lords Page  225 and Officers would hold together to support the Suppressor, and trample upon the oppressed: My Lords (quoth she) content you, I am Queene of the Valleys as well as of the Hills, and I must not suffer the Hills to ore-top, nor yet to over-shade the Val∣leys.

A worthy saying, which if it had been imitated by her Successors, these our miseries had never happe∣ned; but, I say (and this is it I now drive at) her Justice made her Subjects to beleeve there could be no injustice in Monarchy; and that was it did facilitate the Kings peace∣able entrance. In that tranquility did the Kingdome continue all his dayes, and about fifteen yeares of his Sons Reign: when behold, there was nothing but jollity in the Court, as if saying to themselves, Who dares molest us? the King having now a plentifull Issue; for, let me tell you, the Kings Issue made Him Page  226 and his Courtiers the more to tram∣ple on the country Gentry. But be∣hold, when nothing but peace, peace, sudden destruction came on them, and us unawares; and God sends such a War as no man could dreame of Now the corollary of all is this, the high injustice of Church and State was the cause of this Warre. And, O, may not the continuing of that, in any other Government prove the continuance of this war! there being a farre greater appearance of the continuance thereof then ever there was of the beginning:

But, Gods will be done.
Page  [unnumbered]

The Contents.

  • QVeene Elizabeth died at Richmond house, on March 24▪ 1602. page 1, 2
  • The first that carryed newes thereof into Scotland, was Sir Rob. Carew who was afterward made Governor of the Kings then second Son Charles Duke of York▪ p. 2, 3
  • The first man imployed from Scotland to the English Nobility for preparations of the Kings comming into England, was Sir Roger Aston. p. 4
  • He was afterwards made (from the Kings Barbar) 〈◊〉 gentleman of his Bed-Chamber. p. 6
    The Kings Favourites.
  • 1 Sir George Hewme a kind of Favourite for ha∣ving been of some secret councels with the King whils in Scotland, the cheife of which, was that of Gourie Conspiracy. p. 7, 8
  • 2 Sir Robert Cicill a Favourite. p. 9
    • His il offices he did this Nation. p. 1
    • His Herodian disease, and end. p. 1
  • 3, 4. Hen▪ Howard & Tho. Howard Favorites. p. 1
    • The principall managers of the State affaires in Englan then, were Salisbury, Suffolke, &c. p. 1
  • 5 Mr. James Hay an high Favourite, &c. See his ri &c. p. 17, 18, 1
    • Passages concerning Sir Walter Rawleigh. p. 27, &
    • Page  [unnumbered] A notable discovery made by Sir Rob. Mansel of a Spani∣ards stealing plate, which cleared the false imputation laid by them on the English, p. 40. &c.
    • The King easily perswaed to retire himselfe, by those Managers of the State, of which Salisbury was the cheif p. 46, 47, 48
    • Secretary Lake, p. 49, &c.
    • Salisbury, Suffolk, & Northampton great getters, more then the whole bunch of the Scots, Dunbar excep∣ted. p. 54
    • Kelly, Annandale, and Carlisle vast consumers, espe∣cially Carlisle, of what they got. ibid.
  • 6 Montgomery for a time a Favourite, p. 56. Vpon whose wane, after a contention between the English, and Scots, out of whether Nation the next Favourite should come, Cr arose a Favourite. p. 57
    • How tended, and tendred by the King, when, in a Tilting with the Lord Dingwel, he had broke his leg, p. 58
  • Sir Tho. Overbury taken into great favor by Car. p. 59
    • Salisbury, and Suffolk in favour of this new Favourite, regardfull of his Creature (Overbury) are both u∣sed by him, yet through his insolency, both neglected, p. 60
    • Northamptons plot upon Overbury for his scorn of him. ib
    • Overbury, a tart reprover of Somerset, concerning (Suffolks daughter) Essex's wife. p. 62
    • He is therefore plotted against, to be removed out of the way on an Embassy to France, or upon refusal &c. p. 64
    • Being committed to the Tower, he was there pysoned.
    • Page  [unnumbered] See the foulenesse of that businesse. p. 65. &c.
    • After that, Somerset marrys the Lady, in which mtter was seen the high corruption of the then times, p. 70 &c
    • In this Favourites time came over the Palsgrave, and married the Kings daughter, the La. Elizabeth, p. 76
    • Shortly after, Prince Henry dyed. ib.
    • His death foretold by Bruce, banished therefore by Salis∣bury, who died in May, the Prince in November fol∣lowing, p. 78
    • Ingram and Cranfield, Projectors made use of in Court, but, like Projectors as they were, kept under by Somer∣set, which were more highly regarded by the after Fa∣vourite, p. 80, 81. which was
  • 8 Favourite, Mr. Mr. George Villers. p. 82
    • Zouch, Goring, Finit, and Millicent the Court fooles (as well as Archee) with whose jollity this Favou∣rite was ushered in, p. 84, 85.
    • Winwood brought in Secretary of State by Somerset and by him unworthily used, ruined him by discovering the poysoning of Overbury, p. 86, &c.
    • It being made publickly known unto the King. See his (seeming) serious charge upon the Judges for their im∣partiall sifting out, and punishing the Complotters there∣of, in p. 92
    • The Kings dissimulation to Somerset. p. 95
    • Who by a device of Sir George Moores (after Elways Lieutenant of the Tower) was tamely led from the Tower to his Arraignment, p. 108, &c.
    • Mrs, Turner, Weston, Franklin, and Sir Gervase El∣wayes executed for that businesse, p. 113
    • Page  [unnumbered] This Favourite displaceth the wel-deserving Admirall (the E. of Nott.) and gets that place to himself, p. 114
    • The next great Office his power reacheth at to dispose, is, Egertons Lord Chancellorship, to whom he sends Ba∣con for the Seal, p. 115. To whom Buckingham the Favourite sends a message, p. 116. Whereto see his Answer. p. 117
    • Buckinghams course to raise and maintain his kindred p. 119
    • Bacons proud carriage so soon as made Lord Chancel∣lor, the King being soon after gone to Scotland, p. 121
    • After him (degraded for his bribery by a Parliament) comes Williams, Dean of Westminster Bishop of Lincolne. p. 127
    • Who was in bribery inferior to none. p. 130
    • The Lord Treasurer (Suffolk) being turned out, one of the afore named Projectors, Cranfield, was brought in by Buckingham, p. 131. His censure in the House of Peers, p. 132
    • He and the Prince go into Spaine disguised, and under the names of Jack and Tom Smith. p. 133
    • Taking their way by France, the Prince eyed there that Lady whom he after married. ib.
    • Through Buckinghams miscarriages in Spaine, and his spleen against Bristoll, the Match with Spain was dissolved. 133, &c.
    • The King now hates Buckingham. p. 139
    • Buckingham hates the King. p. 144
    • Which proved the Kings suggested cause, true, p. 149
    • After which, his darke dealing with the King, See Page  [unnumbered] a passage from one of the Kings Servants to the Duke, p. 161, 162
    In the Court of King Charles beginning, p. 176. the observations are:
  • AS his Fathers reigne began with a great Plague, His, with a greater, p. 176
  • He was not crowned with the wonted solemnity, nor took he the usuall Oath, p. 177
  • With him arose also his Fathers favourite, ib.
  • The first Parliament he called gave him two intire Sub∣sidies, &c. p. 179
  • Buckingham being questioned about the former Kings death, dissolved that Parliament. ib.
  • Which was ill relished by the people, p. 180
  • Williams the Lord Keeper turned out of his place, and Coventry put in, p. 181
  • Buckingham sent into France, for that Lady the King had seen there, ib.
  • Through his instigation, the King prepares for a war a∣gainst Spaine and France, p. 182
  • Wimbletons unsuccesfull expedition in Spaine, ib.
  • Denbigh is sent to aide Rochel, ib.
  • Buckinghams losse of many brave Gentlemen in the Isle of Rees expedition, p. 183. where comes in a large supplement which the former Edition of this Book had not.
  • For these unjust Quarrels management, the King paw∣ned his Plate to Amsterdam, p. 184
  • Cottington sent to beg a peace with Spaine, ib.
  • Rochels reliefe not really performed, ib.
  • Buckinghams ambition after higher Titles and Of∣fices. p. 186.
  • Page  [unnumbered]Weston (after Cranfield) made Lord Treasurer by Buckinghams procurement, p. 188
  • Shifts to raise monies, p. 191
  • Noy made the Kings Attorney, p. 195
  • By whom many Projects were put in practise, p. 196
  • Buckingham intending some great secret Designe a∣broad, was slaine by Felton, p. 199
  • Amongst whom the managing of Affaires then was▪ p. 201
  • After his death no bettering in the State, but worse, p. 202
  • Weston, if not ballanced by Laud, had been worse in Tyrannizing then Buckingham, p. 203
  • Councell Table, &c. scourges to the people, ib.
  • Coventry a very corrupt man (whose time reached to this very Parliament, yet) not questioned for it, p. 206
  • Finch made chiefe Judge of the Common Pleas, ib.
  • Fees in all Courts taken excessively, p. 207
  • The Bishops and other Court Clergy preacht away the peoples liberties and proprieties, ib.
  • Their turne now to loose both, p. 208
  • Strafford the ablest States-man since Salisburie, p. 209
  • First brought in by Weston, ib.
  • He failed in his ignorance of the peoples temper, and of the Kings disability and faithfulnesse in weighty mat∣ters and great Agents, p. 211, 212
  • He was the greatest Subject (not being a Favourite▪) that ever was, ibid.
  • Observations upon this K. from his childhood. p. 215
  • Certain observations before Q, Eliz. death. p. 223
FINIS.