Buckingham, whose estates had been confiscated by Cromwell in 1648, regained control of York House in a curious manner—by marriage with the daughter of General Fairfax. Cromwell had bestowed this property on Fairfax at the time of the Civil Wars. "Every chamber," says Brian Fairfax in his Memoirs of Buckingham, "was adorned with the arms of Villiers and Manners, lions and peacocks. He (Lord Fairfax) was descended from the same ancestors, Earls of Rutland." We have the same authority for the statement that the "superstitious pictures in York House" were ordered to be sold on August 20, 1645, but not before one John Trayleman, an "old trusty servant," had smuggled some of the treasures over to Holland, where they found a purchaser in the Archduke Leopold. For one of these pictures, the Ecce Homo, by Titian, the first Duke of Buckingham had been offered £7000, either in money or land, by Lord Arundel. In this painting, likenesses of the Pope, Charles V., and Solyman the Magnificent were introduced. The Duke returned to England in 1657, and obtained an introduction to General Fairfax, who gave a willing ear to the marriage proposition. The lady, we are told, could not resist the fascination of "the most graceful and beautiful person that any court in Europe saw," and the marriage took place at Nun Appleton, near York—a seat of Lord Fairfax—on September 7, 1657. According to Jesse, Cromwell, "who was supposed to have intended Buckingham for one of his own daughters, was greatly enraged when he heard of the match, and immediately committed Buckingham to the Tower. Fairfax demanded his release, which, being angrily and obstinately refused by the Protector, a quarrel was the consequence." After the death of Cromwell, Buckingham was permitted to remove to Windsor Castle. At the Restoration he was restored to his property, and became "the most reckless, unprincipled, and irregular character" at the Court of Charles II.
York House fell from its high estate on coming into the possession of General Fairfax. On November 27, 1655, Evelyn "went to see York House and gardens, belonging to the former greate Buckingham, but now much ruin'd thro' neglect." In 1661, Baron de Batteville, the Spanish Ambassador, was lodged there, a fact which affords us, through the pages of Samuel Pepys, a curious peep into the past. On May 19, 1661 (Lord's Day), this delightful chronicler walked in the morning towards Westminster, and, seeing many people at York House, he went down from the Strand "and found them at masse, it being the Spanish Ambassador's; and so I got into one of the galleries, and there heard two masses done, I think not in so much state as I have seen them heretofore. After that, into the garden, and walked an hour or two, but found it not so fine a place as I took it for by the outside." In September of the same year, Pepys witnessed a strange encounter between the retainers of the ambassadors of Spain and France, which terminated at York House: "This morning, up by moonshine, at five o'clock, to Whitehall, to meet Mr More at the Privy Seale, and ther I heard of a fray between the two embassadors of Spaine and France, and that this day being the day of the entrance of an embassador from Sweeden, they intended to fight for the precedence. Our king, I heard, ordered that no Englishman should meddle in the business, but let them do what they would. And to that end, all the soldiers in town were in arms all the day long, and some of the train bands in the city, and a great bustle through the city all the day. Then we took coach (which was the business I came for) to Chelsey, to my Lord Privy Seale, and there got him to seal the business. Here I saw by daylight two very fine pictures in the gallery, that a little while ago I saw by night; and did also go all over the house, and found it to be the prettiest contrived house that I ever saw in my life. So back again; and Whitehall light, and saw the soldiers and people running up and down the streets. So I went to the Spanish embassadors and the French, and there saw great preparations on both sides; but the French made the most noise and ranted most, but the other made no stir almost at all; so that I was afraid the other would have too great a conquest over them. Then to the wardrobe and dined there; and then abroad, and in Cheapside hear, that the Spanish hath got the best of it, and killed three of the French coachhorses and several men, and is gone through the city next to our King's coach: at which it is strange to see how all the city did rejoice. And, indeed, we do naturally all love the Spanish and hate the French. But I, as I am in all things curious, presently got to the water-side, and there took oars to Westminster Palace, and ran after them through all the dirt, and the streets full of people; till at last, in the Mews [Charing Cross], I saw the Spanish coach go with fifty drawn swords at least to guard it, and our soldiers shouting for joy. And so I followed the coach, and then met it at Yorke House, where the embassador lies; and there it went in with great state. So then I went to the French house, where I observe still, that there is no men in the world of a more insolent spirit where they do well, nor before they begin a matter, and more abject if they do miscarry, than these people are; for they all look like dead men, and not a word among them, but shake their heads. The truth is, the Spaniards were not only observed to fight more desperately, but also they did outwitt them; first in lining their own harnesse with chains of iron that they could not be cut, then in setting their coach in the most advantageous place, and to appoint men to guard every one of their horses, and others for to guard the coach, and others the coachman. And, above all, in setting upon the French horses and killing them, for by that means the French were not able to stir. There were several men slaine of the French, and one or two of the Spaniards, and one Englishman by a bullet. Which is very observable, the French were at least four to one in number, and had near one hundred cases of pistols among them, and the Spaniards had not one gun among them, which is for their honour for ever, and the others' disgrace. So having been very much daubed with dirt, I got a coach and home; where I vexed my wife in telling her of this story, and pleading for the Spaniards against the French."
But the whirligig of time brings in its own revenges, and, in 1672, the French Ambassador was installed at York House. On April 4, Evelyn "went to see the fopperies of the Papists at Somerset House and York House, where now the French Ambassador had caus'd to be represented our Blessed Saviour at the Paschal Supper with his disciples, in figures and puppets made as big as the life, of wax-work, curiously clad and sitting round a large table, the roome nobly hung, and shining with innumerable lamps and candles; this was expos'd to all the world, all the Citty came to see it: such liberty had the Roman Catholicks at this time obtain'd." In 1663, the Russian Ambassador was in occupation. On June 6, of that year, Pepys journeyed "To York House, where the Russian Embassador do lie; and there I saw his people go up and down losing themselves: they are all in a great hurry, being to be gone the beginning of next week. But that that pleased me best, was the remains of the noble soul of the late Duke of Buckingham appearing in his house, in every place, in the door-cases and the windows. Sir John Hebden, the Russian Resident, did tell me how he is vexed to see things at Court ordered as they are by nobody that attends to business, but every man himself or his pleasures. He cries up my Lord Ashley to be almost the only man that he sees to look after business; and with the ease and mastery, that he wonders at him. He cries out against the King's dealing so much with goldsmiths, and suffering himself to have his purse kept and commanded by them."
How the French Ambassador came to be in residence at York House in April, 1672—as most certainly he was—is somewhat curious. For, by a deed dated January 1, of that year, the Duke sold the house and gardens in order to obtain money for his extravagances. The purchasers were Roger Higgs, of St Margaret's, Westminster, Esq.; Emery Hill, of Westminster, gentleman; Nicholas Eddyn, of Westminster, woodmonger; and John Green, of Westminster, brewer; and the price of the property was £30,000. In 1668, the rental of "York House and tenements, in the Strand," had been fixed at £1359, 10s. The Duke made it a condition of the sale that his name should be commemorated in the new buildings to be erected on the site of York House; hence we have York Buildings, Buckingham Street, Villiers Street, and Duke Street, at the present day. There was even an "Of" Lane, but this has been converted into George Court. It is said that, with part of the money thus obtained, the Duke purchased land in Dowgate. Be this as it may, the nomenclature of the York House estate caused much derision at the time, and brought forth The Litany of the Duke of Buckingham, a merry satire containing the following exhortation:—
"From damning whatever we don't understand,
From purchasing at Dowgate, and selling in the Strand,
Calling streets by our name when we have sold the land,
Libera nos Domine!"
FOOTNOTES:
[52] Aubrey's Lives, vol. ii., p. 224.
[53] A brilliant entertainment given at York House in 1620 was attended by Ben Jonson, who said that all things seemed to smile about the old house—"the fire, the wine, the men"; he speaks of Bacon as:—
"England's high Chancellor, the destin'd heir,
In his soft cradle, to his father's chair,
Whose even thread the Fates spin round and full,
Out of their choicest and whitest wool."
A few months later, the Committee of the House of Lords waited upon the Chancellor at York House in order to enquire personally whether the confession of guilt which he had sent them was really his. "My Lords," he replied, "it is my act, my hand, my heart; I beseech your Lordships to be merciful to a broken reed."