And it was universally known, says lord Clarendon, that, during his life, the queen

left the queen of England at Boulogne, and came back to Mary de Medicis, then queen-mother, to treat about some pretended affairs, which he took for the pretext of his return. After having done with his chimerical negotiation, he came to the reigning queen, whom he found in bed, almost alone. That princess was informed by a letter from the duchess de Chevreuse, who accompanied the queen of England, of Buckingham's coming back. She spoke of it before Nogent in a jesting manner, and was not surprised when she saw the duke. But she was so when he came freely to kneel down by her bed-side, kissing her sheet with such uncommon transport, that it was easy to perceive that his passion was violent, and of that kind which does not leave the use of reason to those that are seized with it. The queen has told me, that she was troubled at it; which trouble, joined with a little indignation, made her continue a long time without speaking to him. The countess de Lannoi, then her lady of honour, not being willing to suffer the duke to continue in that condition, told him, with a great deal of severity, that what he did was not customary in France, and would have made him rise. But the duke, without appearing surprised, disputed with the old lady, saying that he was no Frenchman, and not bound to observe the laws of the kingdom. Then addressing himself to the queen, he said aloud to her the most tender things imaginable, which she answered only with complaints at his boldness; and, perhaps, (says the lady) without being very angry, she ordered him severely to rise and begone. He did so; and having seen her the next day,

* Vol. I. p. 59.

had never any credit with the king, with reference to any public affairs. But the

in presence of all the court, he went away, fully resolved to return into France as soon as possible. All matters relating to Buckingham were told king Lewis to his queen's disadvantage. The queen of England (continues madame Motteville) has since related to me, that quickly after her marriage with king Charles I. she had some dislike to the king her husband, and that Buckingham fomented it: that gentleman saying tọ her face, that he would set her and her husband at variance, if he could. He succeeded in it; and the queen, in her affliction, was desirous of returning into France, to see the queen her mother; and as she knew the pas sionate desire which the duke had of seeing once more the young queen of France, she spoke to him of her design. He embraced it with eagerness, and he served her powerfully in obtaining leave from the king her husband to execute it. The queen of England wrote about it to the queen her mother, desiring leave to bring the duke of Buckingham, without whom she could not take that voyage. She was refused both by the queen her mother, and by the king her brother, her design coming to nothing, by reason of that of the duke of Buckingham. This gentleman (says the lady) raised a division between the two crowns, that he might have an occasion of returning into France, by the necessity there would be for a treaty of peace."

The insolence, pride, lust, and revenge of Buckingham, appear from these passages, better than from a thousand descriptions: and it cannot but somewhat

Memoirs towards writing the History of Anne of Austria, at the end of the 4th vol. of Retz Memoirs, p. 186-290. See also Rohan's Memoirs, 131. 8vo. Lond. 1660.

p.

death of that favourite, which happened by the hand of a well-meaning assassin ",

diminish the character of Charles, even in the eyes of his most zealous and devout admirers, when they consider that this man, vile and abandoned in morals as he was, was his chief favourite; and that though he might not do such things himself, yet he had pleasure in him that did them.

40

Buckingham's death happened by the hand of a well-meaning assassin.] This was John Felton, a gentleman of family in Suffolk, of good fortune and reputation; who had been a lieutenant in the army; which quitting, he resided in London: where learning what an enemy to the nation Buckingham was, and that the house of commons had declared him " the cause of all the evils the kingdom suffered, and an enemy to the public," he believed he should do God good service if he killed the duke. Which shortly after he resolved to do, and actually accomplished at Portsmouth (where Buckingham then was, preparing and making ready the fleet and army designed for the relief of Rochelle, straitly besieged by Richlieu); for he struck him with a knife over his shoulder upon the breast, which piercing his heart, soon occasioned his death. Felton, though he might easily have escaped amidst the hurry and confusion the assassination occasioned, unconscious of ill, but glorying in his noble exploit, walked calmly before the door of the house, owned and justified the fact; though before his death he is said to have repented of it, and asked pardon of " the king, the duchess, and all the duke's servants, whom he acknowledged to have offended." That Felton was an assassin must be owned: that assassinations are, for

* Clarendon, vol. I. p. 30.

Aug. 23, 1628, gave the queen an opportunity of exerting an influence over his

1

the most part, very unjustifiable actions, must be acknowledged; but where the principles, on which such assassinations are founded, appear plausible, and the assassinators appear to have acted out of views to the public good, however mistaken, and not out of selfinterest or private revenge; I say, where this is the case, as it seems here to have been, we cannot help pitying the criminals, though we condemn the crime. But to proceed in the history. Felton, after having been confined in prison at London, "was called before the council, where he confessed his inducement above mentioned to the murder. The council much pressed him to confess who set him on work to do such a bloody act, and if the puritans had no hand therein : he denied they had; and so he did to the last, that no person whatsoever knew any thing of his intentions or purpose to kill the duke, that he revealed it to none living. Dr. Laud, bishop of London, being then at the council-table, told him, if he would not confess he must go to the rack. Felton replied, if it must be so, he could not tell whom he might nominate in the extremity of torture; and if what he should say then must go for truth, he could not tell whether his lordship (meaning Laud) or which of their lordships, he might name; for torture might draw unexpected things from him. After this he was asked no more questions, but sent back to prison. The council then fell into debate, whether, by the law of the land, they could justify the putting him to the rack; which, by order of the king, being propounded to all the judges, they unanimously agreed, that he ought not, by the law, to be tortured by the rack; for no such punishment is known or allowed

majesty, which she retained to the last mo

by our law." Whereupon, being convicted on his own confession, he was hung up in chains. We see here the true spirit of an ecclesiastic (armed with power) in Laud! Cruelty is the distinguishing character. Racks present themselves presently to the imagination of a superstitious tyrannical priest, as the fittest punishments for offenders. Power in such hands, therefore, should never be lodged, because it will degenerate into tyranny, and render unhappy such as are under it Let the fate of Buckingham also be a warning to all ministers not to pursue wicked measures; for destruction, in all probability, will come upon them. Public justice may make them examples: a Felton may arise to dispatch them; or if neither of these should occasion their fall, but they should brave justice and escape its stroke, yet their names shall be branded with infamy and reproach in the annals of the times in which they lived, though pimps and parasites have ever so loudly sounded their praises.

The following account of Felton may be looked on as no improper supplement to this note." He was of a religious and quiet conversation, given to no open vice nor whimsical opinions, being a frequent hearer of those preachers as were never found to give encouragement to such practices, but rather the contrary.Nor was honest Jack, a title always given him, (though rendered after more diffusive by the duke's enemies, than so ill a consequence might merit) agitated by revenge, or any privater spirit than what he was persuaded did regard the commonweal; as I heard William earl of Pembroke protest, who could not but be the best informed, hsving assisted at his examinations: