A SINGULAR APPARITION.

32,1

A CURIOUS EDICT of POPE LEO X. POPE Pope Leo X. iffued the following fingular Edict for the fecurity of Literary Property." It is recommended that no Bookfeller, Merchant, Printer, or Publisher whatsoever, or whofoever he may be, fhall, within ten years, print, or expose to sale, a work, entitled, "The Caftigations and various readings upon P. Virgilius Maro," fet forth by Jo. Pierias Valerianus, at any other time or place, or in any other form or manner than by his confent or permiffion. Whoever shall oppose, or act contrary to the tenor of this decree, he fhall be damned! and alfo fined in the fum of 100 gold ducats. Given at St. Peter's at Rome, (under the feal of the fisher) the 26th day of March, and in the 9th year of our Pontificate, 1521."

Morning Chronicle, Jan. 20, 1803.

MR. GRANGER,

The following Circumftance being taken from very respectable Authority, I request it may be inferted in your next Museum.

I remain, Yours, &c.-J. CAULField.

The SINGULAR APPARITION of SIR GEORGE VILLIERS, Father of the DUKE of BUCKINGHAM. THERE was an officer in the King's wardrobe in Windsor Castle, of a good reputation for honesty and discretion, and then about the age of fifty years, or more: this man had in his youth been bred in a school, in the parish where Sir George Villiers, the father of the Duke lived; and had been much cherished and obliged, in that feason of his age, by the faid Sir George, whom afterwards he never saw. About fix months before the miferable end of the Duke of Buckingham, about midnight, this man, being in his bed at Windfor, where his office was, and in very good health, VOL. I. No. 7. Tt there

there appeared to him, on the fide of his bed, a man of a very venerable afpect, who drew the curtains of his bed, and fixing his eyes upon him, afked him if he knew him. The poor man, half dead with fear and apprehenfion, being afked the fecond time, Whether he remembered him? and having in that time called to his memory the presence of Sir George Villiers, and the very cloaths he used to wear, in which at that time he feemed to be habited; he anfwered him, That he thought him to be that person. He replied, "he was right; that he was the fame, and that he expected a fervice from him; which was, that he should go from him to his fon the Duke of Buckingham, and tell him, if he did not fomewhat ingratiate himfelf to the people, or, at least, to abate the extreme malice they had against him, he would be fuffered to live but a fhort time." After this difcourfe, he difappeared, and the poor man, if he had been at all waking, flept very well till morning, when he believed all this to be a dream, and confidered it no otherwife.

The next night, or fhortly after, the fame perfon appeared to him again in the fame place, and about the fame time of the night, with an aspect a little more severe than before; and asked him, "Whether he had done as he had required him?" and perceiving he had not, gave him very fevere reprehenfions; told him, "he expected more compliance from him; and that if he did not perform his commands, he should enjoy no peace of mind, but should be always pursued by him: upon which, he promised him to obey him. But the next morning, waking out of a good fleep, though he was exceedingly perplexed with the lively reprefentation of all particulars to his memory, he was willing ftill to perfuade himself, that he had only dreamed, and confidered, that he was a person at such a distance from the Duke, that he knew not how to find any admiffion to

OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM'S FATHER.

323 his prefence; much less had any hope to be believed in what he should fay. So with great trouble and unquietness, he spent some time in thinking what he should do, and in the end refolved to do nothing in the matter.

The fame perfon appeared to him the third time with a terrible countenance, and bitterly reproaching him for not performing what he had promifed to do. The poor man had by this time recovered the courage to tell him, "that in truth he had deferred the execution of his commands, upon confidering how difficult a thing it would be for him to get any access to the Duke, having acquaintance with no person about him; and if he could obtain admiffion to him, he fhould never be able to perfuade him, that he was fent in fuch a manner; but he fhould, at beft, be thought to be mad, or to be fet on and employed by his own or the malice of other men, to abuse the Duke, and fo he should be fure to be undone."

The perfon replied, as he had done before," that he fhould never find reft, till he fhould perform what he required; and therefore he had better to difpatch it; that the access to his fon was known to be very eafy; and that few men waited long for him; and for the gaining him credit, he would tell him two or three particulars, which he charged him never to mention to any person living, but to the Duke himfelf; and he fhould no fooner hear them, but he would believe all the reft he fhould fay; and fo repeating his threats, he left him.

In the morning, the poor man, more confirmed by the last appearance, made his journey to London, where the Court then was. He was very well known to Sir Ralph Freeman, one of the Mafters of Requefts, who had married a lady that was nearly allied to the Duke, and was himself well received by him. To him this man went; and though he did not acquaint him with all the particulars,

Tt2

lars, he faid enough to him to let him fee there was fomething extraordinary in it; and the knowledge he had of the fobriety and difcretion of the man, made the more impreffion on him.

He defired, that, "by his means he might be brought to the Duke, to fuch a place, and in fuch a manner, as fhould be thought fit:" affirming, "that he had much to fay to him, and of fuch a nature, as would require much privacy, and fome time and patience in the hearing." Sir Ralph promised, "he would fpeak first with the Duke of him, and then he should understand his pleasure," and, accordingly, on the first opportunity, he did inform him of the reputation and honesty of the man, and then what he desired, and of all he knew of the matter. The Duke, according to his ufual openness and condefcenfion, told him, "that he was the next day early to hunt with the king, and that his horfes fhould attend him at LambethBridge, where he would land by five of the clock in the morning; and if the man attended him there at that hour, he would walk and speak with him, as long as should be neceffary." Sir Ralph carried the man with him the next morning, and presented him to the Duke at his landing; who received him courteously, and walked afide in conference near an hour, none but his own fervants being at that hour in that place; and they and Şir Ralph at such a distance, that they could not hear a word, though the Duke fometimes fpoke, and with great commotion; which Sir Ralph the more eafily obferved and perceived, because he kept his eyes always fixed upon the Duke; having procured the conference upon fomewhat he knew there was extraordinary. And the man told him in his return over the water," that when he mentioned thofe particulars, which were to gain him credit, the fubftance whereof he faid he durft not impart to him, the Duke's colour changed, and

he

OF SIR GEORGE VILLIERS.

325

he fwore he could come to that knowledge only by the devil; for that those particulars were known only to himfelf and to one perfon more, who, he was fure, would never speak of it."

The Duke pursued his purpose of hunting; but was obferved to ride all the while with great penfivenefs, and in deep thoughts, without any delight in the exercife he was upon, and before the morning was fpent, left the field, and alighted at his mother's lodgings in Whitehall, with whom he was hut up for the space of two or three hours; the noife of their difcourfe frequently reaching the ears of those who attended in the next room; and when the Duke left her, his countenance appeared full of trouble, with a mixture of anger, a countenance that was never before obferved in him, in any converfation with her, towards whom he had a profound reverence. And the Countess herself (for though she was married to a private gentleman, Sir Thomas Compton, the had been created Countess of Buckingham, fhortly after her fon had firft affumed that title) was, at the Duke's leaving her, found overwhelmed in tears, and in the highest agony imaginable.

Whatever there was of all this, it is a notorious truth, that when the news of the Duke's murder, (which happened within a few months after) was brought to his mother, fhe feemed not in the leaft degree furprized; but received it as if she had foreseen it, nor did afterwards exprefs fuch a degree of forrow, as was expected from fuch a mother, for the lofs of fuch a fon.

Vid: Clarendon's Hift. of the Rebellion, Vol. I. p. 34.

Authentic