Houssaie, in his political memoirs, has detailed an anecdote of this duke, only known to the English reader in the general observation of the historian.  When he was sent to France, to conduct the Princess Henrietta to the arms of Charles I., he had the insolence to converse with the Queen of France, not as an ambassador, but as a lover!  The Marchioness of Senecy, her lady of honour, enraged at seeing this conversation continue, seated herself in the arm-chair of the Queen, who that day was confined to her bed; she did this to hinder the insolent duke from approaching the Queen, and probably taking other liberties.  As she observed that he still persisted in the lover, “Sir,” she said, in a severe tone of voice, “you must learn to be silent; it is not thus we address the Queen of France.”

This audacity of the duke is further confirmed by Nani, in his sixth book of the History of Venice; an historian who is not apt to take things lightly.  For when Buckingham was desirous of once more being ambassador at that court, in 1626, it was signified by the French ambassador, that for reasons well known to himself, his person would not be agreeable to his most Christian majesty.  In a romantic threat, the duke exclaimed, he would go and see the queen in spite of the French court; and to this petty affair is to be ascribed the war between the two nations!

The Marshal de Bassompiere, in the journal of his embassy, affords another instance of his “English familiarity.”  He says, “The King of England gave me a long audience, and a very disputatious one.  He put himself in a passion, while I, without losing my respect, expressed myself freely.  The Duke of Buckingham, when he observed the king and myself very warm, leapt suddenly betwixt his majesty and me, exclaiming, ’I am come to set all to rights betwixt you, which I think is high time.’”

Cardinal Richelieu hated Buckingham as sincerely as did the Spaniard Olivares.  This enmity was apparently owing to the cardinal writing to the duke without leaving any space open after the title of Monsieur; the duke, to show his equality, returned his answer in the same “paper-sparing” manner.  Richelieu was jealous of Buckingham, whose favour with the Queen of France was known.

This ridiculous circumstance between Richelieu and Buckingham reminds me of a similar one, which happened to two Spanish Lords:—­One signed at the end of his letter el Marques (the Marquis), as if the title had been peculiar to himself for its excellence.  His national vanity received a dreadful reproof from his correspondent, who, jealous of his equality, signed OTRO Marqies (another Marquis).

An anecdote given by Sir Henry Wotton offers a characteristic trait of Charles and his favourite:—­