In 1615, a beautiful young courtier knelt before King James I to be knighted. In that moment, the newly minted Sir George Villiers stepped onto the ladder of preferment that would lift him from country gentleman to first Duke of Buckingham in just eight years. In a land with a long history of royal favorites, from Edward II and Piers Gaveston to Elizabeth I and the Earl of Essex, Buckingham played the part to perfection as the favorite of two kings—James I and Charles I— amassing an abundance of wealth and power in the process.
Lucy Hughes-Hallett’s excellent new biography, The Scapegoat: The Brilliant Brief Life of the Duke of Buckingham, tells this story of a most dramatic rise and fall with verve and elegance. Creating a complex portrait of the early-17th-century English court, she breaks the story into brief chapters that intersperse Buckingham’s history with fascinating accounts of elaborate dramatic dances known as masques, art collections, medicine, jewelry, hunting, and clothes. And Jacobean London lends her a splendid cast of supporting players: John Donne, Ben Jonson, Christopher Marlowe, Anthony van Dyke, and Inigo Jones all make appearances in the account. Buckingham lived at the center of this fabulous milieu, commissioning portraits by Sir Peter Paul Rubens and asking Sir Francis Bacon for advice.
English culture in the 17th century was on a cusp, being pulled forward by the Enlightenment and backward by the Middle Ages. While natural philosophers such as Bacon embraced the new empiricism, judges in England—fueled by King James I’s personal obsession with witchcraft—condemned women to burn at the stake. The future of the monarchy was on a knife’s edge, too, with the divine right of kings facing off against Magna Carta in the clashes between the early Stuart monarchs and their Parliaments. Here again, Buckingham was in the mix as a powerful and controversial minister to Charles I, the king who would eventually lose the struggle and his head.
Buckingham’s story began when his mother sent her handsome son from Leicestershire, England, to France to learn horsemanship and acquire some polish. Two years later, at a hunt, he caught the eye of King James I, who soon named him a royal cupbearer and table servant. The role brought him into close contact with the king, but its quotidian intimacy paled beside that of his next post, Gentleman of the Bedchamber. The title says it all: a courtier who shared the king’s bedroom and his bed.
The exact nature of James and Buckingham’s physical relationship has been debated by historians for centuries. James publicly condemned sodomy as an “abomination.” Yet, in a typical letter, he called Buckingham “my sweet child and wife” and himself “your dear dad and husband.” Buckingham signed many of his letters to James “from Your Majesty’s humble slave and dog.” Their love is a strange mix of the erotic, the paternal, the obsequious, the ambitious. But it was love, lent a whiff of the divine by King James when he told his Privy Council, “Christ had his John, and I have my George.”
After Buckingham was knighted, in 1615, titles and offices flowed to him steadily from the Crown. The following year he became Viscount Villiers, and, soon after, he was made the Earl—and then the Marquis—of Buckingham. In 1623, King James appointed him Duke of Buckingham, England’s only duke outside the royal family.
Power and riches came with Buckingham’s advancement, along with tremendous administrative responsibilities. Hughes-Hallett calls Buckingham “the King’s gatekeeper and chief of staff and confidant.” A political novice when he arrived at court, Buckingham learned on the job as James shaped him into the right-hand man he wanted. The favorite’s role was privileged but not cosseted. The King’s darling worked very hard.
Not surprisingly, many members of both the public and the peerage resented Buckingham’s quick rise to influence and wealth, especially under the cloud of suspected sodomy. His control of patronage and monopolies was controversial. King James remained steadfast, though, and held his favorite only closer until his death, in 1625. Many Buckingham critics, expecting the bereft duke to fall from favor, were shocked to find him still standing as principal minister to the new king, James’s second-eldest son and heir, Charles I. Buckingham and Charles had been close friends for several years, and therefore Buckingham’s position in the court remained secure.
Though a savant in the inner workings of the Stuart court, Buckingham got into trouble when he turned his attention abroad. He conceived a series of disastrous naval assaults, first on Spain, then on France. King Charles battled with Parliament to provide funds—always inadequate—for Buckingham’s expeditions. Thousands of English soldiers died. From each successive defeat, the survivors returned, unpaid and unfed. Public fury grew against the duke. On the eve of yet another doomed foray, an embittered soldier finally stabbed him to death in a Portsmouth tavern. It was 1628. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, Knight of the Garter, Master of the Horse, Lord High Admiral, Lord Lieutenant of three counties, was 35 years old.
At more than 600 pages, The Scapegoat offers total immersion in an intriguing life and a fascinating world. Do take it to bed with you—it could easily become a favorite.
Robin Olson is a writer and painter
