The life and times of George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, Volume 1 (of 3): From original and authentic sourcesThomson, A. T., Mrs.
History
The life and times of George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, Volume 1 (of 3): From original and authentic sources
Thomson, A. T., Mrs.
Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke of, 1592-1628
but to throw himself upon the mercy of the House. That, in spite of this
confession, Bacon still continued to enjoy the protection of Buckingham,
is evident, for the heir to the crown presented Bacon’s memorable
letter, full of eloquence, and expressed with the inimitable address
which he knew so well how to employ. This submission was not deemed
enough; a full confession was required. It was given by one sunk in
character and broken in spirit, and was received by the House. Prince
Charles was then requested to intercede with His Majesty that he would
sequester the Great Seal, to which James assented, declaring it was his
resolution to fill up the place of Chancellor forthwith. Bacon was
summoned before the House; he excused himself on the plea of sickness,
and sentence was passed upon him in his absence. He was decreed to pay a
fine of 40,000_l._, to be imprisoned in the Tower during the King’s
pleasure, and declared incapable of ever either sitting in Parliament
again, or of holding any office or employment; he was even forbidden to
come within “the verge”—that is, within twelve miles of the Court.[360]
Footnote 356:
Mr. Montagu’s Life of Bacon, note.
Footnote 357:
Bishop Hacket’s Life of Williams.
Footnote 358:
Biog. Brit. Art. Bacon.
Footnote 359:
Biog. Brit. Art. Bacon.
Footnote 360:
Biog. Brit. Art. Bacon.
The condition of Bacon’s mind and body under this severe disgrace seems
to have been truly melancholy. One moment he was merry, and declared
that he believed he should be able to ride safely through the tempest.
When passing through the hall of his stately abode at York House, on his
servants rising at his presence, he said, “Sit down, my friends; your
rise has been my fall.” Upon one of his friends observing, “You must
look around you,” he answered, “I look above me.” At other times his
despair broke out in words that, although somewhat abject, were touching
in the extreme. As he lay in his bed, his frame swoln with disease, he
bade none of his gentlemen come near him, nor take any notice of him,
but altogether to forget him, not hereafter to speak of him, nor
remember that there was such a being in the world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account