at nature could
desire and wit invent,' it was astonishing how extensive an influence he
had in both Houses of Parliament. 'His rank and condescension, the
pleasantness of his humours and conversation, and the extravagance and
keenness of his wit, unrestrained by modesty or religion, caused persons
of all opinions and dispositions to be fond of his company, and to
imagine that these levities and vanities would wear off with age, and
that there would be enough of good left to make him useful to his
country, for which he pretended a wonderful affection.'

But this brilliant career was soon checked. The varnish over the hollow
character of this extraordinary man was eventually rubbed off. We find
the first hint of that famous coalition styled the _Cabal_ in Pepys's
Diary, and henceforth the duke must be regarded as a ruined man.

'He' (Sir H. Cholmly) 'tells me that the Duke of Buckingham his crimes,
as far as he knows, are his being of a cabal with some discontented
persons of the late House of Commons, and opposing the desires of the
king in all his matters in that House; and endeavouring to become
popular, and advising how the Commons' House should proceed, and how he
would order the House of Lords. And he hath been endeavouring to have
the king's nativity calculated; which was done, and the fellow now in
the Tower about it.... This silly lord hath provoked, by his ill
carriage, the Duke of York, my Lord Chancellor, and all the great
persons, and therefore most likely will die.'

One day, in the House of Lords, during a conference between the two
Houses, Buckingham leaned rudely over the shoulder of Henry Pierrepont
Marquis of Dorchester. Lord Dorchester merely removed his elbow. Then
the duke asked him if he was uneasy. 'Yes,' the marquis replied, adding,
'the duke dared not do this if he were anywhere else.' Buckingham
retorted, 'Yes, he would: and he was a better man than my lord marquis:'
on which Dorchester told him that he lied. On this Buckingham struck off
Dorchester's hat, seized him by the periwig, pulled it aside, and held
him. The Lord Chamberlain and others interposed and sent them both to
the Tower. Nevertheless, not a month afterwards, Pepys speaks of seeing
the duke's play of 'The Chances' acted at Whitehall. 'A good play,' he
condescends to say, 'I find it, and the actors most good in it; and
pretty to hear Knipp sing in the play very properly "All night I weepe,"
and sung it admirably. The whole play