Taking into account his mode of existence, ‘which,’ says Clarendon, ’was a life by night more than by day, in all the liberties that 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 pleases me well:  and most of all, the sight of many fine ladies, amongst others, my Lady Castlemaine and Mrs. Middleton.’