He also made himself obnoxious to his royal master by the part he took respecting the Test Bill, and above all, by maintaining that the King had exceeded his royal prerogative in proroguing the Parliament for a longer time than was legal. He was sent to the Tower, and when once more liberated, mixed himself up (with a restlessness he doubtless called patriotism) in fresh plots and cabals. On the death of Charles II., the Duke of Buckingham, well aware that he could not expect the same indulgence from King James as from his predecessor, retired to the country (being in failing health at the time), and gave himself up to literary occupations and the sports of the field. One day, while intent on unearthing a fox, he was imprudent enough to sit for some time on the damp ground, in consequence of which he caught a chill that proved fatal in three days. His wife, who long survived him, was a most exemplary woman, who loved him in spite of his numerous and flagrant infidelities. They had no children, and the title became extinct.
The witty, handsome, profligate Duke of Buckingham is a well-known acquaintance to all readers, both of history and fiction. His manners were genial, even captivating; his anger or revenge generally vented itself in pointed satires or pungent bon-mots. Dryden immortalised him as Zimri in ‘Absalom and Achitophel.’ Pope drew his portrait in the Moral Essays (Epist. iii.); his love for astrology and alchemy helped him to squander his living, but all his tastes were extravagant. His comedy of ‘The Rehearsal’ (in which, however, he is supposed to have been much assisted by friends) made a great noise, and his delineation of Dryden under the character of Bayes was much admired.
No. 78.
CATHERINE CAREY, COUNTESS OF
NOTTINGHAM.
DIED IN 1603.
Black dress. White lace cap. Ruff and cuffs. Black veil.
Holding a glove.
