Originally published in Terrific Register (Sherwood, Jones, and Co.; 1825).
An officer in the king's wardrobe, in Windsor Castle (as mentioned in the Earl of Clarendon's History of the grand Rebellion) an honest and discreet person, about fifty years of age, when he was a school boy, was much taken notice of by Sir George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham's father, who laid several obligations to him.
This gentleman, as he was lying in bed, perfectly awake, and in very good health, perceived a venerable aspect draw near his curtains, and with his eyes fixed upon him, asked him, if be knew who he was? The poor gentleman, after the repetition of the same question, recalling to his memory the presence of Sir George Villiers, answered, half dead with fear, he thought him to be that person. He replied, that he was in the right, and that he must go and acquaint his son from him, "That unless he did something to ingratiate himself with the people, he would be cut off in a short time."
After this he disappeared; and the poor man next morning considered all no otherwise than a dream.
This was repeated, with a more terrible aspect the next night, the apparition telling him, "Unless he performed his commands, he must expect no peace of mind; upon which he promised to obey him. The lively representation of all to his memory strangely perplexed him; but considering that be was a person at such a distance from the duke, he was still willing to persuade himself that he had been only dreaming.
The same spectre repeated his visit a third time, and "reproaching him with breach of promise;" be had by this time got courage enough to tell him, that it was a difficult thing to gain admission to the duke, and more difficult to be credited by him; that he should be looked upon as a malcontent or a madman, and so be sure to be ruined.
The spectre after a repetition of his former threats, replied "That the duke was known to be of very easy access; that two or three particulars he would and did tell him, and which he charged him never to mention to another person, would give him credit." And so repeated his threats and left him.
This apparition so far confirmed the old man, that he repaired to London, where the court then was; and being known to Sir Ralph Freeman who had married a lady nearly allied to the duke, he acquainted him with enough to let him know there was something extraordinary in it, without imparting to him all the particulars.
Sir Ralph having informed the duke of what the man desired, and of all he knew in the matter, his grace according to usual condescension told him, that the next day he was to hunt with the king, that he would land at Lambeth bridge by five in the morning, where, if the person attended, he would talk with him as long as should be necessary: accordingly the man, being conducted by Sir Ralph, met the duke, and walked aside in conference with him near an hour; Sir Ralph, and his servants being at such a distance, that they could not learn a word, though the duke was observed to speak sometimes, and that with great emotion.
The man told Sir Ralph, in his return over the water, that when he mentioned credentials, the substance of which, he said, he was to impart to no man, "The duke swore be could come to that knowledge by none but the devil; for those particulars were a secret to all but himself and another, who he was sure would never speak of it."
The duke returned from hunting before the morning was spent, and was shut with his mother for the space of two or three hours in her apartments at Whitehall; and when he left her, his countenance appeared full of trouble with a mixture of anger: and she herself, when the news of the duke's murder was brought to her (his grace being stabbed by one John Felton, a discontented lieutenant, when he was equipping a fleet for the relief of Rochelle, at Portsmouth, on the 23d day of August, 1628,) seemed to receive it without the least surprise, and as a thing she had long foreseen.
Some time before his death, the duke had been advised by Sir Clement Throgmorton to wear a privy coat; the duke took his counsel very kindly, but gave him this answer: "that he thought a coat of mail would signify little in a popular commotion, and from any single person he apprehended no danger."