I find the following epitaph on Buckingham in a manuscript letter of the times.  Its condensed bitterness of spirit gives the popular idea of his unfortunate attempts.

    THE DUKE’S EPITAPH.

    If idle trav’llers ask who lieth here,
    Let the duke’s tomb this for inscription bear;
    Paint Cales and Rhe, make French and Spanish laugh;
    Mix England’s shame—­and there’s his epitaph!

Before his last fatal expedition, among the many libels which abounded, I have discovered a manuscript satire, entitled “Rhodomontados."[243] The thoughtless minister is made to exult in his power over the giddy-headed multitude.  Buckingham speaks in his own person; and we have here preserved those false rumours and those aggravated feelings then floating among the people:  a curious instance of those heaped up calumnies which are often so heavily laid on the head of a prime minister, no favourite with the people.

    ’Tis not your threats shall take me from the king!—­
    Nor questioning my counsels and commands,
    How with the honour of the state it stands;
    That I lost Rhe and with such loss of men,
    As scarcely time can e’er repair again;
    Shall aught affright me; or the care to see
    The narrow seas from Dunkirk clear and free;
    Or that you can enforce the king believe,
    I from the pirates a third share receive;
    Or that I correspond with foreign states
    (Whether the king’s foes or confederates)
    To plot the ruin of the king and state,
    As erst you thought of the Palatinate;
    Or that five hundred thousand pounds doth lie
    In the Venice bank to help Spain’s majesty;
    Or that three hundred thousand more doth rest
    In Dunkirk, for the arch-duchess to contest
    With England, whene’er occasion offers;
    Or that by rapine I fill up my coffers;
    Nor that an office in church, state, or court,
    Is freely given, but they must pay me for’t. 
    Nor shall you ever prove I had a hand
    In poisoning of the monarch of this land,
    Or the like hand by poisoning to intox
    Southampton, Oxford, Hamilton, Lennox. 
    Nor shall you ever prove by magic charms,
    I wrought the king’s affection or his harms. 
    Nor fear I if ten Vitrys now were here,
    Since I have thrice ten Ravilliacs as near. 
    My power shall be unbounded in each thing,
    If once I use these words, “I and the king.” 
      Seem wise, and cease then to perturb the realm,
    Or strive with him that sits and guides the helm. 
    I know your reading will inform you soon,
    What creatures they were, that barkt against the moon. 
    I’ll give you better counsel as a friend: 
    Cobblers their latchets ought not to transcend;
    Meddle with common matters, common wrongs;
    To the House of Commons common things belongs.