Characters from the Histories & Memoirs of the Seventeenth Century Part 6

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

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

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

16.

By SIR PHILIP WARWICK.

He was a person, tho' born sickly, yet who came thro' temperance and exercise, to have as firm and strong a body, as most persons I ever knew, and throughout all the fatigues of the warr, or during his imprisonment, never sick. His appet.i.te was to plain meats, and tho'

he took a good quant.i.ty thereof, yet it was suitable to an easy digestion. He seldom eat of above three dishes at most, nor drank above thrice: a gla.s.se of small beer, another of claret wine, and the last of water; he eat suppers as well as dinners heartily; but betwixt meales, he never medled with any thing. Fruit he would eat plentifully, and with this regularity, he moved as steddily, as a star follows its course. His deportment was very majestick; for he would not let fall his dignity, no not to the greatest Forraigners, that came to visit him and his Court; for tho' he was farr from pride, yet he was carefull of majestie, and would be approacht with respect and reverence. His conversation was free, and the subject matter of it (on his own side of the Court) was most commonly rational; or if facetious, not light. With any Artist or good Mechanick, Traveller, or Scholar he would discourse freely; and as he was commonly improved by them, so he often gave light to them in their own art or knowledge.

For there were few Gentlemen in the world, that knew more of useful or necessary learning, than this Prince did: and yet his proportion of books was but small, having like Francis the first of France, learnt more by the ear, than by study. His way of arguing was very civil and patient; for he seldom contradicted another by his authority, but by his reason: nor did he by any petulant dislike quash another's arguments; and he offered his exception by this civill introduction, _By your favour, Sir, I think otherwise on this or that ground_: yet he would discountenance any bold or forward addresse unto him. And in suits or discourse of busines he would give way to none abruptly to enter into them, but lookt, that the greatest Persons should in affairs of this nature addresse to him by his proper Ministers, or by some solemn desire of speaking to him in their own persons. His exercises were manly; for he rid the great horse very well; and on the little saddle he was not only adroit, but a laborious hunter or field-man: and they were wont to say of him, that he fail'd not to do any of his exercises artificially, but not very gracefully; like some well-proportion'd faces, which yet want a pleasant air of countenance.

He had a great plainnes in his own nature, and yet he was thought even by his Friends to love too much a versatile man; but his experience had thorowly weaned him from this at last.

He kept up the dignity of his Court, limiting persons to places suitable to their qualities, unless he particularly call'd for them.

Besides the women, who attended on his beloved Queen and Consort, he scarce admitted any great Officer to have his wife in the family. Sir Henry Vane was the first, that I knew in that kind, who having a good dyet as Comptroller of the Houshold, and a tenuity of fortune, was winkt at; so as the Court was fill'd, not cramm'd. His exercises of Religion were most exemplary; for every morning early, and evening not very late, singly and alone, in his own bed-chamber or closet he spent some time in private meditation: (for he durst reflect and be alone) and thro' the whole week, even when he went a hunting, he never failed, before he sat down to dinner, to have part of the Liturgy read unto him and his menial servants, came he never so hungry, or so late in: and on Sundays and Tuesdays he came (commonly at the beginning of Service) to the Chappell, well attended by his Court-Lords, and chief Attendants, and most usually waited on by many of the n.o.bility in town, who found those observances acceptably entertain'd by him. His greatest enemies can deny none of this; and a man of this moderation of mind could have no hungry appet.i.te to prey upon his subjects, tho'

he had a greatnes of mind not to live precariously by them. But when he fell into the sharpnes of his afflictions, (than which few men underwent sharper) I dare say, I know it, (I am sure conscientiously I say it) tho' G.o.d dealt with him, as he did with St. Paul, not remove the thorn, yet he made his grace sufficient to take away the pungency of it: for he made as sanctified an use of his afflictions, as most men ever did.

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

And tho' he was of as slow a pen, as of speech; yet both were very significant: and he had that modest esteem of his own parts, that he would usually say, _He would willingly make his own dispatches, but that he found it better to be a Cobler, than a Shoomaker_. I have bin in company with very learned men, when I have brought them their own papers back from him, with his alterations, who ever contest his amendments to have bin very material. And I once by his commandment brought him a paper of my own to read, to see, whether it was suitable unto his directions, and he disallow'd it slightingly: I desir'd him, I might call Doctor Sanderson to aid me, and that the Doctor might understand his own meaning from himselfe; and with his Majestie's leave, I brought him, whilst he was walking, and taking the aire; whereupon wee two went back; but pleas'd him as little, when wee return'd it: for smilingly he said, _A man might have as good ware out of a Chandler's shop_: but afterwards he set it down with his own pen very plainly, and suitable unto his own intentions. The thing was of that nature, (being too great an owning of the Scots, when Duke Hamilton was in the heart of England so meanely defeated, and like the crafty fox lay out of countenance in the hands of his enemies,) that it chilled the Doctors ink; and when the matter came to be communicated, those honourable Persons, that then attended him, prevayl'd on him to decline the whole. And I remember, when his displeasure was a little off, telling him, how severely he had dealt in his charactering the best pen in England, Dr. Sanderson's; he told me, he had had two Secretaries, one a dull man in comparison of the other, and yet the first best pleas'd him: _For_, said he, _my Lord Carleton ever brought me my own sense in my own words; but my Lord Faulkland most commonly brought me my instructions in so fine a dress, that I did not alwaies own them._ Which put me in mind to tell him a story of my Lord Burleigh and his son Cecil: for Burleigh being at Councill, and Lord Treasurer, reading an order penn'd by a new Clerk of the Councill, who was a Wit and Scholar, he flung it downward to the lower end of the Table to his son, the Secretary, saying, _Mr.

Secretary, you bring in Clerks of the Councill, who will corrupt the gravity and dignity of the style of the Board_: to which the Secretary replied, _I pray, my Lord, pardon this, for this Gentleman is not warm in his place, and hath had so little to do, that he is wanton with his pen: but I will put so much busines upon him, that he shall be willing to observe your Lordship's directions._ These are so little stories, that it may be justly thought, I am either vain, or at leasure to sett them down; but I derive my authority from an Author, the world hath ever reverenced, _viz_, Plutarch; who writing the lives of Alexander the great and Julius Cesar, runs into the actions, flowing from their particular natures, and into their private conversation, saying, _These smaller things would discover the men, whilst their great actions only discover the power of their States._

One or two things more then I may warrantably observe: First, as an evidence of his natural probity, whenever any young n.o.bleman or Gentleman of quality, who was going to travell, came to kiss his hand, he cheerfully would give them some good counsel, leading to morall virtue, especially to good conversation; telling them, that _If he heard they kept good company abroad, he should reasonably expect, they would return qualified to serve him and their Country well at home_; and he was very carefull to keep the youth in his times uncorrupted.

This I find in the Memoires upon James Duke Hamilton, was his advice unto that n.o.ble and loyal Lord, William, afterwards, Duke Hamilton, who so well serv'd his Son, and never perfidiously disserv'd him, when in armes against him. Secondly, his forementioned intercepted letters to the Queen at Naisby had this pa.s.sage in them, where mentioning religion, he said, _This is the only thing, wherein we two differ_; which even unto a miscreant Jew would have bin proofe enough of this King's sincerity in his religion; and had it not bin providence or inadvertence, surely those, who had in this kind defam'd him, would never themselves have publish'd in print this pa.s.sage, which thus justified him.

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

17.

THE EARL OF STRAFFORD.

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

_Born 1593. Beheaded 1641._

By CLARENDON.

All thinges beinge thus transacted, to conclude the fate of this greate person, he was on the 12. day of May brought from the Tower of London, wher he had bene a prysoner neere six moneths, to the Skaffold on Tower Hill, wher with a composed, undaunted courage, he told the people, he was come thither to satisfy them with his heade, but that he much feared, the reformation which was begunn in bloode, would not proove so fortunate to the kingdom as they exspected, and he wished, and after greate expressyons of his devotion to the Church of Englande, and the Protestant Religion established by Law and professed in that Church, of his loyalty to the Kinge, and affection to the peace and welfare of the Kingdome, with marvellous tranquillity of minde, he deliver'd his Heade to the blocke, wher it was sever'd from his body at a blow; many of the standers by, who had not bene over charitable to him in his life, beinge much affected with the courage and Christianity of his death. Thus fell the greatest subjecte in power (and little inferiour to any in fortune) that was at that tyme in ether of the three Kingdomes; who could well remember the tyme when he ledd those people, who then pursued him to his grave. He was a man of greate partes and extraordinary indowments of nature, not unadorned with some addicion of Arte and learninge, though that agayne was more improoved and ill.u.s.trated by the other, for he had a readynesse of conception, and sharpnesse of expressyon, which made his learninge thought more, then in truth it was. His first inclinations and addresses to the Courte, were only to establish his Greatnesse in the Country, wher he apprehended some Actes of power from the[1]

L'd Savill, who had bene his ryvall alwayes ther, and of late had strenghtened himselfe by beinge made a Privy Counsellour, and Officer at Courte, but his first attempts were so prosperous that he contented not himselfe with beinge secure from his power in the Country, but rested not till he had bereaved him of all power and place in Courte, and so sent him downe a most abject disconsolate old man to his Country, wher he was to have the superintendency over him too, by getting himselfe at that tyme made L'd President of the North. These successes, applyed to a nature too elate and arrogant of it selfe, and a quicker progresse into the greatest imployments and trust, made him more transported with disdayne of other men, and more contemninge the formes of businesse, then happily he would have bene, if he had mett with some interruptions in the beginning, and had pa.s.sed in a more leasurely gradation to the office of a Statesman. He was no doubte of greate observation, and a piercinge judgement both into thinges and persons, but his too good skill in persons made him judge the worse of thinges, for it was his misfortune to be of a tyme, wherin very few wise men were aequally imployed with him, and scarce any (but the L'd Coventry, whose trust was more confined) whose facultyes and abilityes were aequall to his, so that upon the matter he wholy relyed upon himselfe, and decerninge many defects in most men, he too much neglected what they sayd or did. Of all his pa.s.syons his pryde was most praedominant, which a moderate exercise of ill fortune might have corrected and reformed, and which was by the hande of heaven strangely punished, by bringinge his destruction upon him, by two thinges, that he most despised, the people, and S'r Harry Vane; In a worde, the Epitaph which Plutarch recordes, that Silla wrote for himselfe, may not be unfitly applyed to him; That no man did ever pa.s.se him, ether in doinge good to his frends, or in doinge mischieve to his enimyes, for his Actes of both kindes were most exemplar and notorious.

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

18.

By SIR PHILIP WARWICK.

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

they were of his own quality; and then he was not like to conciliate the good will of men of the lesser station.

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

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

In his person he was of a tall stature, but stooped much in the neck.

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

19.

THE EARL OF NORTHAMPTON.

_Spencer Compton, second Earl of Northampton._

_Born 1601. Fell at Hopton Heath 1643._

By CLARENDON.

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

Et velut aequali bellatum sorte fuisset componit c.u.m cla.s.se virum:

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

20.

THE EARL OF CARNARVON.

_Robert Dormer, created Earl of Carnarvon 1628._

_Born 1610. Fell at Newbury 1643._