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diff --git a/old/63698-0.txt b/old/63698-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4c04901..0000000 --- a/old/63698-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16079 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Biographical Catalogue of the Portraits at -Panshanger, the Seat of Earl Cowper, K.G., by Mary Louisa Boyle - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Biographical Catalogue of the Portraits at Panshanger, the Seat of Earl Cowper, K.G. - -Author: Mary Louisa Boyle - -Release Date: November 10, 2020 [EBook #63698] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIOGRAPHICAL CATALOGUE--PANSHANGER *** - - - - -Produced by Fay Dunn, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - -[Illustration: - - ARISE ✤ PRAY ✤ WORK -] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - BIOGRAPHICAL CATALOGUE - - OF THE PORTRAITS AT PANSHANGER - - THE SEAT OF EARL COWPER, K.G. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - BIOGRAPHICAL - - CATALOGUE - - OF THE PORTRAITS - - AT PANSHANGER - - THE SEAT OF - - EARL COWPER, K.G. - - - ✿ - - - - ‘_A true delineation, even of the smallest - man, and his scene of pilgrimage through - life, is capable of interesting the - greatest man; for all men are to an - unspeakable degree brothers, each man’s - life a strange emblem of every man’s, and - human portraits faithfully drawn are, of - all pictures, the welcomest on human - walls._’ CARLYLE. - - - _LONDON: ELLIOT STOCK_ - - 1885. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -[Illustration] - - - TO - - FRANCIS LORD COWPER - - AND - - KATRINE CECILIA HIS WIFE, - - The Light of her Home, - - - THESE PAGES ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED - - BY - - MARY LOUISA BOYLE. - - - -MICHAELMAS 1885. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -[Illustration] - - - - - PREFACE - - -In the Biographical Sketches contained in this volume, I have pursued -the same system as in my two former Catalogues, of the Galleries of -Hinchingbrook and Longleat,—devoting especial attention to the immediate -members, or to personages in any way connected with the family in -question. In the historical characters, I have purposely made the -details of public and official life (which are elsewhere recorded) -subservient to those of a private and domestic nature, although it is -obvious that in some cases the two cannot be disentangled. In fact, I -have preferred painting my portraits in the costume worn at home, rather -than in robes of office and suits of armour. I have refrained from -mentioning the innumerable authorities to which I have had recourse, in -the British Museum and other Public and Private Libraries, from a dread -of adding to the weight of a volume already, I fear, too bulky. For help -in my labours, I am indebted to the noble owner of Panshanger himself, -for the able papers on Charles James Fox, Lord Melbourne, and the -brothers De Witt,—while the author of that delightful memoir, ‘Fifty -Years of my Life,’ so well known to the reading public, contributed the -interesting sketch of his ancestor, the first Earl of Albemarle. - -The good services of Mr. Elliot Stock procured me the assistance of -Monsieur Charles Rueles, the learned Keeper of Manuscripts in the Royal -Library at Brussels, when at a loss for information regarding the -Marquez de Leganes, a commander little spoken of by English writers. On -the kindness of friends my impaired sight has compelled me to rely for -details of dress and descriptions of many of the portraits, and, on this -account, my especial thanks are due to a fair member of the Cowper -family. In other respects, the work, it may be ‘a poor thing, is mine -own,’ and, although in some respects arduous and difficult, I have found -it on the whole an undoubted labour of love. - - M. L. B. - - -MICHAELMAS 1885. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -[Illustration] - - - GALLERY. - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - GALLERY. - - ------- - -_No. 1._ - - HENRI DE LA TOUR D’AUVERGNE, VICOMTE DE TURENNE. - -_Equestrian Portrait, full size. Mounted on a dappled charger. Buff - jerkin. Ruff. Embroidered sleeves. White scarf. Plumed hat._ - - BORN 1611, KILLED IN ACTION 1675. - - BY REMBRANDT. - - -HE was the second son of the Duke de Bouillon, by Elizabeth of Nassau, -daughter of William the Silent and Charlotte de Montpensier. De Bouillon -was attached in early life to Henry the Fourth, King of France and -Navarre, who spoke of him as ‘my lieutenant, my friend, and comrade.’ -The Duke was a soldier, diplomat, politician, and man of letters; and, -moreover, founder of the Academy at Sedan, which became the resort of -all the youthful nobility and chivalry of Europe. - -The Duke was one of the chief leaders of the Calvinistic party, and in -their tenets he brought up his two sons, the Prince de Sedan and the -Vicomte de Turenne. When the education of the elder was completed, he -went to Holland to learn the art of war, under his uncle Maurice, Prince -of Orange, while Henry continued his studies at home. In early childhood -his constitution was far from robust, which inclined the Duke to destine -him for some civil employment; but the little Vicomte had set his whole -heart on being a soldier, and he was resolved to prove to his father -that the decision he had come to was ill-founded. He took, in -consequence, rather an ingenious method of manifesting his health and -strength. One evening the boy contrived to elude the vigilance of his -governor, who spent hours of anxious search, and never discovered the -truant till the next morning, on the ramparts of the town. On the -carriage of a cannon, where he had passed the whole night, lay the -little fellow, smiling in his calm sleep over the dreams which had -visited his iron pillow,—visions, in all probability, of the daring -exploits of some of his beloved heroes of antiquity, or some brilliant -foretaste of his own future glory. But a still more characteristic -anecdote is told of Turenne’s boyhood. He took great delight in -lecturing, as it were, to a group of admiring listeners, on the merits -of his favourite historian, Quintus Curtius, or the mighty deeds of -Alexander the Great. In such moments his eye would kindle, his whole -face brighten, and he would overcome that hesitation of speech under -which he laboured in calmer moments. One eventful day an officer (of -mature years), who was in the company, ventured to speak disparagingly -of Henry’s favourite historian, and even to question his veracity! This -was too much for the impetuous boy; he waxed wroth, and answered the -attack with indignation, to the infinite amusement of his mother, who -was present. She made a sign to the officer to prosecute the argument, -till the Vicomte de Turenne, with all the offended dignity of his ten -years, left the room in a towering passion, and the same evening -challenged the officer to mortal combat. The ‘cartel’ was carried to the -Duchess, who was much delighted with this early development of her son’s -military ardour. The challenge was of course accepted, the place of -rendezvous settled, and thither the small hero hastened the next -morning, ‘his soul in arms, and eager for the fray.’ To his surprise he -found his mother on the ground, and the officer by her side, while on -the green turf at their feet was spread a goodly banquet. The Duchess -advanced with a smile, and embracing her son told him she had come to -act as second to his antagonist, but that they must first breakfast, -upon which the three sat down, together with the gentlemen of the hunt, -who were also there assembled, and during the repast, as may easily be -believed, peace was concluded, the honour of the young firebrand -appeased, and an exhilarating gallop put an end to all discord. - -Henry was only twelve when his father died; he remained a year longer at -home, during which time he showed a far greater taste for athletic and -military exercises than for sedentary studies; above all, he delighted -in horsemanship, and the more unmanageable the steed, the more willingly -would Henry mount it. Hearing that the Comte de Roussy (afterwards his -brother-in-law) had brought a charger from Paris that was considered -wild and vicious, he never rested till he had it saddled, and leaped on -its back, in spite of the expostulations of the whole household. In a -short time the juvenile Alexander returned from his triumphant ride, -having tamed the modern Bucephalus! When thirteen, the Duchess sent him -to join his brother at the Court of the Stadtholder; Maurice received -him graciously, but insisted on his entering the army as a private -soldier. The Prince died a very short time after Turenne’s arrival in -Holland, but the youth had already imbibed those lessons of military -tactics, and that reverence for discipline, which, added to his own -talents and aptitude for the service, stood him in good stead his life -long. Henry Frederic, Maurice’s successor as Stadtholder and -commander-in-chief, continued his protection to Turenne, and gave him -the command of a regiment of infantry, which soon became a model of -discipline. Under his uncle’s auspices, the young soldier now commenced -active service; in 1629 he distinguished himself more especially at the -siege of Bois-le-Duc, a fortress known as La Pucelle de Brabant. - -It is not our intention to make a list of the military exploits of this -great man, whose campaigns in Lorraine, Italy, Germany, etc., would fill -many volumes, and indeed form part of the history of France, or rather -of Europe. While his brilliant victories, his skilful retreats, and, for -the most part, his successful diplomatic negotiations, established his -lasting fame, we shall only enumerate those which are necessary to a -narrative of this nature. In the early days of which we are now -speaking, Turenne’s valour and thirst for enterprise were so remarkable -that Prince Henry Frederic deemed it advisable to reprimand the young -soldier for his rashness, with (it may be conceived) but ill-concealed -admiration for his prowess. The Prince said one day to some officers who -were standing near him, ‘If I mistake not, Turenne will one day rival -our greatest captains in fame and glory.’ Turenne remained five years in -the service of Holland, when his mother, who had been engaged in -political negotiations with France, sent him to that country, where the -King and his Prime Minister, Cardinal Richelieu, received him most -graciously, and gave him the command of a regiment of foot in the French -army. At the siege of La Motte he mounted the walls in person, and -carried the bastion, for which he was rewarded with the bâton of a -field-marshal—a grade only second to that of Marshal of France,—being an -honour almost unheard of for a young man of three-and-twenty. His -humanity was equal to his valour. During the privations and hardships of -the retreat from Mayence in 1635, the Marshal exerted himself to the -utmost to alleviate suffering. He caused many of the valuable contents -of his own baggage-wagons to be thrown away, in order to provide room -for the weary and wounded; he shared his own provisions with the common -soldiers, consoling and helping all those who were in need, without -distinction of rank or nationality. Never slackening for one moment in -his military duties, which he pursued with untiring zeal, at the siege -of Saverne, foremost, as usual, in mounting the breach, his arm was -struck by a musket-ball, and for some time it was believed amputation -must ensue. The recovery was slow and tedious, but long before it was -complete the Marshal had resumed his duties. - -In 1638 he became a lieutenant-general, on being sent to the relief of -Duke Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar, with whom an alliance had been formed by -France. In 1646 he returned to Paris, to the Court, where the Prime -Minister, Cardinal Mazarin, whose recognition of his great services had -hitherto been but lukewarm, was loud in his commendation, and offered -him the Duchy of Château Thierry, and the hand of one of his beautiful -and well-dowered nieces; but Turenne refused all these offers, from the -conviction that some of the conditions therein involved would prove -prejudicial to the interests of his brother, the Duke de Bouillon, to -whom he was warmly attached. He was defeated by the Comte de Mercy, in -command of the Bavarians at Mariendal, but made a most skilful retreat, -and by the side of the Prince de Condé took his revenge at the battle of -Nordlingen, where Mercy was routed, and received his death-wound. This -brave general was buried near the place where he fell, and his tomb bore -this inscription: _Sta, Viator, Heroem Calcas_. Turenne then marched to -join the Swedish General Wrangel, the friend and comrade of the great -Gustavus Adolphus, in Hesse, and was preparing for fresh warfare when -the signing of the Treaty of Westphalia gave peace to Central Europe, -concluding the Thirty Years War. A most flattering letter to the Vicomte -de Turenne was written by the Elector of Mayence, the Duke of -Würtemberg, and many other Princes and Ambassadors, attributing this -happy event as much to his military exploits as to the efforts of the -Plenipotentiaries. - -France did not long enjoy the blessings of peace for civil war was now -about to shed its baneful influence over the land. Anne of Austria, the -Queen-Mother and Regent (during Louis the Fourteenth’s minority), was -almost entirely under the influence of her Prime Minister, Cardinal -Mazarin, who was very unpopular with the Parliament and the greater part -of the French nation. The successes of the English Parliamentarian -troops over those of the Royalists, and the downfall of the Monarchy, -had given a strong impetus to the anti-Court party in France, and a -faction was formed, well known in history as the ‘Fronde.’ - -This nickname was given to the party who were opposed to the policy of -the Queen-Regent, Anne of Austria, and her favourite and adviser, -Cardinal de Mazarin, whose measures they condemned as unjust and -oppressive. One of the principal adherents was the Cardinal de Retz, or -Coadjutor, as he was called, a turbulent and intriguing spirit; but it -soon numbered among its members the most important and noble names in -France. The designation of _Frondeurs_ was given by a contemporary -writer, from the word _Fronde_,—_Anglicè_, a sling. He likened the -malcontents to boys who went about the streets slinging stones, till put -to flight by the appearance of any officer of the law. By degrees the -faction assumed a much more imposing form, and though the name remained, -it had certainly lost its significance. Discontent increased every day, -the people clamoured for redress of grievances, and deputations flocked -to Parliament to entreat the interference of the members against the -oppressions of the Court. The Parliament was divided into three -different factions,—the Frondeurs aforesaid, the Mazarinists, who -supported the Cardinal, and the Modérés, who blamed the _ultra_ views of -both parties. Three members in particular rose up as champions of the -oppressed, and so incensed the Queen by their seditious language, that -she caused them to be arrested. This was the signal for open revolt: -shops were closed, streets blocked, barricades formed, and the liberty -of ‘the fathers of the people,’ as they were called, loudly and -insolently demanded. Anne of Austria showed courage and determination, -arguing that compliance would be a fatal admission of weakness; but the -Duke of Orleans and the Cardinal, alarmed for their own safety and -property, overruled her decision. The captives were released, and the -Court departed hastily to St. Germains, a step which was designated as -‘l’enlèvement du Roi.’ The popular party was triumphant, and the -Cardinal de Retz, considering it a favourable opportunity, exerted -himself to gain proselytes, and the malcontents soon numbered among -their adherents such men as the Dukes de Bouillon, de Lorraine, de -Beaufort, de Longueville, de la Rochefoucauld, and the Prince de Conti, -brother of the great Condé, with many others. They were also rich in -noble female partisans, ‘les héroines de la Fronde.’ Beauty, birth, and -talent swelled the list of the fair conspirators,—Mademoiselle de -Montpensier, ‘la grande demoiselle,’ as she was called,—the Duchesses de -Chevreuse and de Bouillon, the Princess Palatine, and last, but least in -no sense of the word, the Duchesse de Longueville. When Anne of Austria -deserted her post at Paris, a rival in power, a superior in youth and -beauty, reigned for a time paramount in her stead,—the charming despot -of an elective monarchy. - -Anne Généviève de Bourbon was at one time so nearly connected with the -fortunes of Turenne that we are tempted to give some details respecting -her eventful life. Her father was Henry, Prince de Condé (or ‘Monsieur -le Prince,’ as the head of that illustrious house was always called), -her mother the beautiful Charlotte de Montmorency, daughter of the Grand -Connétable of that name. They were both imprisoned in the Château de -Vincennes, where their daughter was born in the year 1618. Mademoiselle -de Bourbon was educated at the Convent of the Carmelites, where she -showed a decided bias towards the vocation of a recluse, and a -corresponding aversion to the idea of a life at Court, or in the great -world. A very short experience, however, of admiration and success -entirely changed her views, and she became one of the most lovely -_précieuses_ of the Hôtel Rambouillet. The cynosure of all eyes, a crowd -of suitors clustered round her, none of whom found favour in the sight -of her parents, till the Duc de Longueville presented himself. He was -her senior by many years, and still under the influence of a former -mistress, the Duchesse de Montbazon; but he came of an illustrious -family, and was not far removed from the rank of a prince of the -blood-royal; and Mademoiselle de Bourbon had the paternal commands laid -upon her to receive him as her bridegroom. At first she showed the -greatest possible repugnance to the marriage, but there was no -alternative; and she walked to the altar, radiant in beauty, and -gorgeously attired, assuming a cheerfulness of demeanour which belied -the feelings of her heart. From that time forward the young Duchess gave -herself up to a system of cold-blooded coquetry, which had most -disastrous results. We quote an eloquent description from the pages of -her biographer, Ville Flore: ‘Un an s’était à peine écoulé, que la -blanche robe de la jeune mariée avait déjà des táches de sang, et que -sans même avoir donné son cœur elle faisait naître involontairement la -plus tragique querelle, oû Coligny perissait à la fleur de l’âge par la -main d’un de ces Guises, auquel elle avoit été un moment destinée. -Prélude sinistre des orages qui l’attendaient.’ Adorers crowded round -her, poets sang her praises, novels were written of which she was the -peerless heroine, and still Généviève de Longueville proceeded on her -triumphal march, careless and fancy-free, making conquest after -conquest, creating cabals and jealousies that became political -feuds,—the Court now taking part against, now with, the beautiful syren. -‘Mais on ne badine pas éternellement avec l’amour.’ - -M. de Masillac (or as we will call him by his better-known title, the -Duc de la Rochefoucauld, to which he shortly succeeded), who had once -been loved, and was now hated, by Anne of Austria, laid siege to the -fortress which had held out so long, and carried the heart of the -Duchesse de Longueville by storm. Witty, handsome, cynical, reserved, -and self-contained, with a reputation already established for valour and -intellect, La Rochefoucauld soon gained a complete ascendency over this -daughter of the proud house of Condé. - -He was a man who, for the most part, practised what he preached and -expounded in his world-famed ‘Maxims,’ and whose character, drawn by his -own pen, showed how the head preponderated over the heart in his -composition. That he admired the Duchess there can be no doubt:— - - ‘Pour mériter son cœur, - Pour plaire à ses beaux yeux, - J’ai fait la guerre aux rois, - Je l’aurais fait aux dieux.’ - -But his first advances were unquestionably made in cold blood, and it -was in the hope of gaining proselytes to the cause of the Fronde that he -desired the alliance and co-operation of this beautiful woman. Touched -and flattered by the simulated passion of so remarkable a man, the -Duchess gave herself up, heart and soul, to her lover, obedient to his -every wish, submissive to his every direction. She forgot her pride of -birth and position, her marriage vows, and the tender affection which -had hitherto bound her to her elder brother. Let us hear how the man for -whom she made such sacrifices speaks of her in the early days of their -_liaison_: ‘Ses belles qualités étaient moins brillantes à cause d’une -tâche qui ne s’est jamais vue en une princesse de ce mérite, qui est, -que bien loin de donner la loi à ceux qui avaient une particulière -adoration pour elle, elle se transformait si fort dans leurs sentimens -qu’elle ne reconnaissait point les siens propres.’ And so he despised -the very quality for which he had wooed her,—a palpable moral! - -Madame de Motteville testifies that ambition had little part in Madame -de Longueville’s proceedings. She was only ambitious for her lover,—‘qui -étoit peut-être plus intéressé qu’il n’était tendre.’ Among her -proselytes she gained over her younger brother to the cause; her husband -also was nothing loath to join the Fronde. But La Rochefoucauld, when he -thought to win the great Condé through the medium of his sister, had -reckoned without his host. Madame de Longueville used all her powers of -persuasion, vainly appealing to the tender memories of home and -childhood, but Condé was implacable. He upbraided his sister with her -dishonour, expressed his aversion to La Rochefoucauld, and joined the -Court at St. Germains, where he assumed the command of the troops that -had remained faithful to the King, and shortly afterwards marched upon -Paris to attack the Frondeurs, who had named his brother, the Prince de -Conti, their ‘Generalissimo.’ Now the Duchesse de Longueville had -excused herself from joining her mother, the Princesse de Condé, who was -at St. Germains in attendance on the Queen, on the plea of her -approaching confinement. But the delicacy of her situation did not -prevent her acting under the orders of her despotic lover. She shared -all the perils and hardships of her friends the Frondeurs, assisted at -the parades and reviews of the troops and the civic guard, took part in -all the military discussions, and in fact transformed the Hôtel de -Longueville into a barrack. - -In this state of strife and discord both sides concurred in the -advisability of gaining over Marshal Turenne to their interests, and he, -being now in command of the French army in Germany, received the most -flattering letters from the Queen and her Minister. Mazarin was profuse -in his offers of civil and military aggrandisement; renewing the -proposal of an alliance with his richly-dowered niece at the same time -that he complained to Turenne of the disloyalty of his brother, the Duc -de Bouillon. - -The Marshal’s answer was manly and straightforward to all these -flattering advances. He wrote respectfully indeed, but said this was not -a moment for men to think of their own personal advancement. He -regretted the disaffection of his brother, and deeply deplored the -troubles that reigned in France; he stigmatised the blockade of Paris as -a most dangerous step, declined with courteous thanks the offer of the -matrimonial alliance on the score of difference of religion, and told -his Eminence plainly that, if he continued to oppress the people, he -(Turenne) could no longer hold out to him the hand of friendship; -moreover, that on his return to France, at the head of his troops -(according to orders from headquarters), he was resolved neither to -favour the revolt of Parliament nor the injustice of the Minister. It -was reserved for the seductive arts of a syren to lead the hero astray -from the straight path he had chalked out for himself. - -The Duchesse de Longueville had already made a deep impression on the -proverbially susceptible heart of the Vicomte de Turenne. About the time -of the signing of the Treaty of Westphalia, when she joined her husband -at Münster, the hero had on that occasion held a review of all the -troops under his command to do honour to the beautiful sister of his -former brother in arms, the Prince de Condé. - -But to return to the time of which we are treating: the Marshal -assembled his soldiers, and made them a formal address, in which he -expressed his regret at the state of affairs in France, and assured them -that on their return he would use all his influence to persuade the King -to go back to Paris, and to take measures for checking the -maladministration of the Cardinal. He would also use his best endeavours -to obtain the pay (with considerable arrears) that was owing to the -troops, both French and auxiliary; and, not content with spoken words, -he published a manifesto to the same effect. The Regency, indignant at -Turenne’s independent manner of proceeding, and confident that they -could not reckon on his co-operation, caused him to be superseded in his -command; and to reconcile the soldiers (with whom he was very popular) -to this step, they sent them out considerable sums of money. Turenne -calmly resigned his post, exhorted the men to loyalty and obedience, and -repaired with some friends and followers to Holland, there to await more -peaceful times. Before long the Court and the malcontents came to terms -by what was called the Peace of Ruel. Deputies from both sides met and -negotiated, an amnesty was proclaimed, posts and governments were -offered to the chief Frondeurs, and concessions of all kinds served out, -as sops to the disaffected. - -The wily Cardinal knew his world. Turenne had little ambition, in the -common acceptation of the word, no greed of gold or worldly advancement, -as to office, or the like; but his pride of birth was a ruling passion, -and dearly did he love anything that tended to the glorification of his -family. - -To his brother, as head of the house, he paid a species of obedience, as -to a suzerain,—a line of conduct he pursued towards his nephew, though -still a youth, on succeeding to the title. All these things considered, -it is not to be wondered at that Turenne was delighted when he received -the news that patents had been granted to himself and his brother (with -other concessions to the elder), entitling them and their descendants to -the dignities and privileges of Princes of the blood-royal. He hastened -back to Paris, and was received by the Cardinal with outward signs of -welcome. But breakers were ahead. The peace was a hollow one, leaving -both parties in much the same condition: the Cardinal and the Parliament -each preserving authority as before,—the one over the Court, the other -over the people. The Prince de Condé was always at issue with the -Minister, whom he treated with ill-concealed contempt; and his Eminence, -wearied and perplexed by the exigencies and requirements of the great -man, and maddened by his sarcasms, plotted his ruin. - -The Duchesse de Longueville, who watched all passing events with -vigilance, chose this opportunity to renew her overtures of -reconciliation to her brother; and she not only succeeded in so doing, -but persuaded Monsieur le Prince to give in a half-and-half adhesion to -the cause of the Fronde, in which party he had many friends, and perhaps -more enemies. - -Among the most inveterate of the latter was the Cardinal de Retz, at -this moment on friendly terms with the Court; and it was by the joint -arrangement of the two Churchmen that a step was taken which rekindled -the torch of public discord. The Queen-Regent had also lately been much -incensed against the Prince de Condé, who had shown himself wanting in -respect and deference to her Majesty; and petty intrigues of all kinds -were at work against him. - -On the 18th of January 1650, as the Princes of Condé, Conti, and the Duc -de Longueville entered the Royal Council-chamber, they were arrested, -and sent off without a moment’s delay to the Château de Vincennes. This -step caused a panic among their friends, who dispersed in all -directions. The Duchesse de Longueville left Paris by night with a large -escort, headed by her adorer, the Duc de la Rochefoucauld, and repaired -to Normandy, to raise the inhabitants of the province against the King, -in which undertaking, however, she was unsuccessful. Turenne took his -way to Stenai, a stronghold belonging to the Prince de Condé, and openly -avowed his indignation at the imprisonment of the Princes. - -‘On prétend’—we again quote his _Mémoires_—‘que l’amour pour la sœur eût -autant de part aux fausses démarches du vicomte que l’amitié pour le -frère.’ Be this as it may, he was soon joined by the Duchess; and in -answer to all the flattering missives sent him by the Cardinal, and the -offers of high military commands and the like, he declared his -determination not to return to his allegiance until the Princes were set -at liberty. He also wrote to the Queen, expostulating with her on the -step she had taken, and pointing out that such a man as the great Condé -was far more worthy her confidence, on account of his birth and -character, and the military services he had rendered his Sovereign, than -the Cardinal, who was an object of aversion to the country at -large,—arguments which had no effect on the Royal mind. It appears that -the Duchess was not as grateful to Turenne as he had hoped, her -_liaison_ with the Duc de la Rochefoucauld interfering with the -Marshal’s claim; but so great an adept in the arts of coquetry doubtless -knew how to keep her most valuable ally betwixt hope and despair for -some time. He had certainly transferred his loyalty from Queen Anne to -Queen Généviève, for the Duchess gave herself all the airs of a -sovereign—levying an army, publishing manifestoes, and even concluding -treaties. She sold her diamonds, an example which was followed by the -obedient Marshal, who disposed of his splendid silver plate in order to -raise troops. He collected together all those who adhered sufficiently -to the Princes to serve in their behalf, together with those over whom -he exercised a personal influence,—some of whom he received into the -citadel, and others he stationed round the walls of Stenai. These were -soon dispersed by the Royal troops, and Turenne, finding himself reduced -to straits, listened once more to the suggestions of his evil genius, -and under her auspices concluded a treaty with the Spaniards, in order -to obtain money and auxiliaries to assist in the deliverance of the -captives. The Marshal did not take a step so foreign to his nature -without regret, and indeed remorse, and the treaty was concluded with -many stringent conditions. - -He again wrote to the Queen, pointing out to her the horrors of a war -which would be cruel, for that her son would be opposed to his subjects -on the one hand, and to her own brother on the other; but she paid no -heed to his advice. He therefore placed himself at the head of the -Spaniards, and commenced a march which was for a while successful, -besieging and carrying many places of importance. - -But his foreign troops caused him great trouble and annoyance, refusing -to obey his commands, or to march on Vincennes. He was defeated with -great loss at the battle of Rhetel, in spite of his personal valour, -which never failed, and he felt this disaster acutely. It is related of -him that, some time afterwards, being asked by a flippant young officer -how it chanced that he lost the battles of Mariendal and Rhetel, he -replied with calm dignity, ‘By my own fault.’ - -Still bent on the deliverance of the Princes, Turenne was about to -proceed to Vincennes without the assistance of the Spaniards; but the -prisoners had been already removed elsewhere. - -Hopes of peace began to dawn on the distracted country. The Ducs de la -Rochefoucauld and de Bouillon, the Princesse de Condé and her young son, -who had been leagued together against the Court, now tendered their -submission, and repaired to the Royal camp at Bourg in person, pledging -themselves in future not to take arms against the King. These proud -spirits carried their newly-born loyalty so far, that, on entering the -presence of their Majesties, they knelt down to solicit pardon. - -‘La reine les reçut avec bonté, et le Cardinal Mazarin leur donna à -dîner.’ But the release of the Princes was not to be effected without -cabals and intrigues of all kinds. The Queen was hardly pressed on the -subject, and at length she was compelled to dismiss her Minister, and to -promise pardon to the captives. The Marshal de Grammont was named as the -bearer of the good tidings to Condé and his companions, but the Cardinal -stole a march on him, and contrived to appropriate all the honour of the -transaction, by forestalling De Grammont’s journey. - -He repaired to Havre, where the Princes were now imprisoned, entered -their presence, and, offering them the hand of friendship, announced -to them that they were at liberty. They then dined together (for it -seemed a hobby of Mazarin’s to cement a reconciliation at the -banqueting-table), after which his Eminence departed for Cologne, -while the Princes took their way to Paris. Here they were received -with acclamations, and bonfires were lighted in honour of their -release,—a similar demonstration having been made the year before to -commemorate their imprisonment! - -The Duke of Orleans, the Duc de Beaufort, the Cardinal de Retz himself, -were all loud in their professions of welcome and friendship, and there -was much embracing on the occasion. Turenne, on learning the news, -returned to Stenai, whence he wrote to the Prince de Condé, begging him -to use his newly-regained influence with the Court to bring about an -honourable peace with Spain. - -Condé’s answer was eloquent of gratitude and friendship, and, in -accordance with the Marshal’s wish, a Parliamentary counsellor was sent -to Stenai with powers to negotiate. He was also bearer of a letter from -the King to the Vicomte de Turenne, wherein Louis offered a free pardon -to the Marshal, and all those who had taken arms with him against the -Crown, on condition they returned to their allegiance. The letter -concluded with these words: ‘J’ai la bonne volonté pour ce qui regarde -votre personne, et les intérêts de votre maison, et je prie Dieu, mon -cousin, qu’il vous ait en sa sainte et digne garde.—LOUIS.’ - -This was followed by the exchange that had so long been talked of,—the -town of Sedan for places of far greater importance, and many -advantageous concessions to the house of De Bouillon. - -Turenne failed in his mediation between France and Spain, and having -found the King of the last-named country unreasonable in his demands, he -gave up the attempt and returned to Paris. - -Discovering that it was the intention of the Princes to give him a -public reception, Turenne defeated their intentions by arriving a day -sooner than was expected, for he considered that it would be incongruous -to make a triumphal entry into the capital of the kingdom when he had so -lately been in arms against the Sovereign. - -No sooner had he arrived than Condé made him overtures and propositions -of all kinds, and did all in his power to induce the Marshal to enter -into his political views, which were of a most ambitious character. -Turenne answered him firmly. He was now perfectly satisfied, he said, -and he only required, from the gratitude of Condé, that the troops who -had fought in his behalf should have good and healthy quarters for the -winter; for he never forgot to plead the cause of his soldiers. The -brothers Condé and Conti were soon again at issue with the Court, and -engaged in seditious warfare, while Cardinal Mazarin re-entered France -at the head of an armed force, upon which the Duke of Orleans once more -revolted from his allegiance. Turenne joined the King and Queen at -Saumur, where he was offered (and did not refuse, as many in his place -would have done) the command of the army, in conjunction with a Marshal -of very short standing, D’Hocquincourt. One of the Vicomte’s most daring -exploits took place at Gergeau, then in possession of the rebel forces, -the taking of which was owing to his own personal skill and courage, and -was reckoned so important, that, on his return, the Queen, in the -presence of the assembled Court, acknowledged that he had saved the -Monarchy! Every tongue was loud in his praise; and yet, in speaking of -the matter in a letter to his sister, the only allusion he makes to the -whole affair is in these words: ‘Il s’est passé quelque chose à Gergeau -qui n’est pas de grande considération.’ Later on, when the Prince de -Condé was approaching Gien (where the King held Court) with rapid -strides, after gaining considerable advantages over the Marshal -D’Hocquincourt, Turenne made head against him with a force vastly -inferior in numbers. - -It was a moment of imminent peril for the Court: Cardinal Mazarin, who -had once more joined the King and Queen, watched the movements of the -two armies with great anxiety, constantly despatching couriers to learn -the last tidings; but Anne of Austria manifested her usual calm, -‘tranquille à sa toilette et à son dîner elle ne donnoit aucune marque -de crainte, quoique on avoit déjà commencé à défendre son appartement.’ - -Then came the welcome news that Turenne was victorious, and the Prince -de Condé in retreat. Another enthusiastic welcome awaited the Vicomte, -and again the Queen thanked him for having once more replaced the crown -on the head of her son. - -Cardinal Mazarin wrote an elaborate account of the proceedings of the -memorable day, in which he blamed the Marshal D’Hocquincourt for having -withstood the advice of his noble colleague; but the generous-hearted -Turenne insisted on the passage being erased, ‘for,’ said he, ‘I am most -unwilling that any fresh mortification should be heaped on the man who -was already sufficiently distressed by several failures.’ - -Henrietta, Queen of England, was now residing in France, where she had -taken refuge during the Protectorate, and was joined by her sons, King -Charles and James, Duke of York, who, in those early days of his career, -was a soldier at heart. He had a profound admiration for Marshal -Turenne, whose camp he joined, and was present at many of the -engagements which took place at that time between the Royal and the -rebel army, Turenne always treating the exiled Prince with the utmost -consideration and kindness; and the Duke of York was more than once -employed as a mediator between the opposing armies. Turenne pursued the -Prince de Condé on his march towards Paris, coming up with him in the -Faubourg St. Antoine, close to the capital. The Cardinal was so -persistent in his desire that Turenne should here attack Monsieur le -Prince, and that the Royal troops should commence the attack, that he -overruled the Marshal’s wish to await the arrival of reinforcements. And -so it chanced that, from a neighbouring height, as from an amphitheatre, -the King, his Minister, and the whole Court, became spectators of one of -the bloodiest encounters that ever cursed a civil war. - -‘Jamais,’ says the biographer of Turenne, ‘action ne fut disputée avec -une valeur plus continuée, et plus opiniâtre. Les deux généraux, tout -couverts de sang, et toujours exposés aux feux des mousquetaires, qui -tiroient de maison à droite et à gauche, combattirent souvent vis à vis -l’un d’autre, à la portée du pistolet. La fureur martiale de l’un, et le -sangfroid de l’autre, faisoient un contraste, dont le spectacle excitoit -l’admiration et la terreur.’ - -After many fluctuations on one part and the other, the Prince de Condé’s -army was hemmed in, and must have been cut to pieces had not the -Parisians, seeing his danger, opened the gates, and received the rebels -within their walls, while the cannon began playing on the Royal army, by -command of the King’s own cousin, Mademoiselle de Montpensier. So hot -was the fire, and so close the quarters, that Turenne was obliged to -abandon his desire of pursuing the enemy within the walls. Disorder and -tumult reigned in Paris, and a terrible massacre took place at the Hôtel -de Ville. - -The Court, by the Marshal’s advice, repaired to Pontoise, and he himself -to Compiègne; and it was chiefly through his instrumentality that the -Spanish troops were at length obliged to evacuate France, and retreat to -Flanders. A sad affliction was in store for the hero about this time, in -the death of his brother, the Duc de Bouillon, to whom he was fondly -attached. But he was not a man to allow sorrow to interfere with duty. -The ill feeling that was still rife against the Cardinal Minister -continued to be used as a pretext for revolt and rebellion of all kinds. -Turenne went in person one day, and had a long and confidential -conversation with Mazarin, in which he pointed out, in the most emphatic -manner, that it was incumbent upon him (the Minister) to make at least a -temporary sacrifice for the good of the King, his master, and the -country in general. This, urged the Marshal, would be effected by his -absenting himself, for a time at least. His arguments prevailed. Mazarin -consented to leave France, but in so doing he made his own conditions. -The King (who was directed to say he ‘only gave in to the plan of -dismissing his faithful Minister in order to pacify his people’) -received a paper from the Cardinal, in which directions were drawn up -for his own conduct; and His Majesty was further instructed to place two -of his Eminence’s most devoted adherents at the head of affairs. After -this was done, Mazarin, strong in the conviction that the Queen would -soon recall him, took his way to Bouillon. But Condé and the Duc de -Lorraine still continued to harass the kingdom, and peace seemed still -far off; it was again by Turenne’s advice that the Court was induced to -proceed once more to Paris, where the Marshal assured Louis that the -Parisians, being wearied by the unsettled state of affairs, would gladly -welcome him. Accordingly the Court set out; but as the cortége -approached the Bois de Boulogne, they were met by a deputation, the -members of which pointed out in the most formidable colours the danger -which his Majesty would incur in entering Paris, where those -arch-rebels, the Duke of Orleans, and Mademoiselle de Montpensier, his -daughter, were caballing to incite the people against him. The royal -coach came to a stand-still, and Anne of Austria, with her accustomed -energy and promptness, made the ladies who were inside alight, and -summoning the Vicomte de Turenne, the Marshals De Villeroi, Du Plessis, -and others, she held an open-air council. Every one, with the exception -of Turenne, was of opinion that they had better retrace their steps. The -noble soldier spoke, as he always did, with firmness and judgment. He -did not believe, he said, in the friendship of men who could give such -pusillanimous advice; that the return of the Court would make them -despicable in the eyes of all, and would discourage the loyal, and give -fresh impetus to the plans of the disaffected. The Queen approved and -seconded him on every point, and the procession moved on once more. The -young King, at the head of his guards, rode in amid loud cries of ‘Vive -le Roi!’ and the acclamations of a huge concourse that accompanied him -to the gates of the Louvre. The next day the Duke of Orleans and his -daughter thought it advisable to leave Paris, and amicable relations -were entered into between the King and his Parliament. ‘L’ordre fût -bientôt rétabli dans la ville, et le calme qui succeda fit oublier les -troubles de la Fronde.’ The Prince de Condé alone refused to comply with -the conditions of the amnesty which was proclaimed, preferring, he said, -to suffer any loss rather than live in the same country with the -Cardinal, whose return was, of course, a matter of certainty; and he -chose the alternative of making a league with the Spaniards. Turenne -remained in Paris until he considered Louis to be safely reinstated on -the throne, and then he went again into the field at a time of year when -troops generally go into winter quarters. On parting from the King, he -promised to drive Condé and his allies out of France before the -expiration of the winter; and he redeemed his pledge. - -The Prince de Condé was compelled to leave the country, and comparative -peace was restored in the interior of the kingdom; but peril, hardship, -and scarcity still pursued the Royal army, and exposed their noble -commander to dreadful straits, which were much aggravated by the -jealousy of his colleague, the Marshal de la Ferté. At the end of the -year 1652, the troops were ordered into winter quarters; and in the -commencement of the ensuing year the Vicomte de Turenne espoused a lady, -whose name, possessions, titles, and good qualities engross a large -space in the pages of the Marshal’s biography. Her merits are best -summed up in this one sentence: ‘She was worthy to be the wife of the -hero.’ Charlotte de Caumont was the daughter and heiress of Armand -Nompar de Caumont, Duc de la Force, Pair et Maréchal de -France,—beautiful, modest, rich, well educated, and, in short, possessed -of all those qualities which are generally the attributes of a -bride-elect. - -The newly-married pair were not long allowed to enjoy their spell of -happiness, for the month of June once more saw the Marshal in the field, -and the old warfare recommenced between the King’s army and Condé and -his Spanish allies. The marches, counter-marches, attacks, sieges, and -retreats belong to the military annals of the time. Mazarin continued to -make fruitless overtures to Condé, who entangled himself more and more -with the Spaniards; but fell out with his other ally, the Duke of -Lorraine, whom he was instrumental in causing to be arrested and -imprisoned. The Prince de Conti did not follow his brother’s example, -and finding he reaped no advantage from being at variance with the -Court, he became reconciled to the King and the Cardinal Minister, whose -niece, Anna Maria de Martinozzi, he shortly afterwards married. -Turenne’s attack on the Spanish lines and Condé’s troops added so much -to his military fame that complimentary messages and letters from German -princes and European generals poured in on all sides. A characteristic -trait is told of the hero about this time, characteristic also of the -spite and jealousy of the Marshal de la Ferté. This general, finding one -of Turenne’s guards outside the camp, caused him to be severely beaten. -The man, covered with blood, sought the presence of his commanding -officer, and complained of his usage. - -Turenne sent him back, under the escort of a lieutenant of the Guards, -with a message to De la Ferté, apologising for any want of respect the -man may have shown, as it must have been something very reprehensible to -cause so severe a punishment. The message was given in the presence of -the whole staff of officers, who were acquainted with the real state of -the case, and De la Ferté was betrayed into exclaiming aloud, ‘Cet homme -sera-t-il toujours sage, et moi toujours fou?’ - -In the month of August the Marshals D’Hocquincourt and De la Ferté -joined the King, and the Vicomte de Turenne remained in the undivided -command of the army. Towards the end of September he went back to Paris, -where he was again serviceable in negotiating affairs between the King -and the Parliament, but soon returned to active service. The Frondeurs -were dispersed or pardoned; the Duke of Orleans reconciled to his -brother; Cardinal de Retz, who had been imprisoned and escaped, had -sought refuge in Rome; but Turenne still pursued his path of glory and -of peril, gaining fresh laurels, even when unsuccessful in the literal -sense of the word. His despatches and private communications were -invariably marked by that modesty which is the true attribute of -greatness. After the famous siege of Dunkirk, he wrote to his wife: ‘Les -ennemis sont venus, ils out été battus, Dieu soit loué; j’ai été un peu -fatigué toute la journée; je vous donne le bon soir, et je vais me -coucher.’ - -This taking of Dunkirk was an affair of such importance, that it is said -Cardinal Mazarin wished to take the glory on himself of projecting and -planning the enterprise; and it is further stated that he endeavoured to -bribe the great general into bearing witness to the Minister’s share in -the matter, by a written document. It was wonderful that the Cardinal -should not by this time have learned better to understand the character -of the man with whom he had to deal. Turenne replied that Mazarin might -pride himself as much as he pleased on his knowledge of military -tactics, but for himself he would never bear testimony to a falsehood. - -At the end of the year 1658 Turenne brought back his army to France, and -returned to Court, having routed the Spaniards, taken twelve towns of -importance, subdued large tracts of country, and garrisoned the places -he had annexed. The reverses of the Spanish arms inclined Philip IV. to -listen to terms, while Anne of Austria represented to the Cardinal that -peace would be a fit thank-offering to Heaven for the recovery of the -King, who had been dangerously ill. Mazarin himself was also in favour -of a treaty, as during all these campaigns he had never quite abandoned -a darling scheme for uniting the interests of the two nations by the -marriage of King Louis with Maria Theresa, Infanta of Spain. The moment -seemed propitious in every way,—Cromwell was dead, and England treating -with her exiled King for his return. Both Charles and his brother, the -Duke of York, were personally attached to France, and the latter, as we -have seen, had served in the French army under the great Turenne. - -In November 1659 the Treaty of the Pyrenees was made, which had for its -basis the marriage of Louis with his cousin, Maria Theresa, and -contained numerous conditions, stipulations, exchanges of territory, and -the like, which were very advantageous to France. Cardinal Mazarin was -unsuccessful in his endeavours to make peace between Spain and Portugal, -which he desired; otherwise, matters were arranged to his satisfaction, -and the marriage fixed for the spring or early summer of the ensuing -year. Louis XIV., anxious to bestow some mark of special favour on -Marshal Turenne, offered to revive in his honour the dormant title of -Grand Connétable, the highest dignity which was in the power of the -Crown to bestow. But the acceptance of the office entailed a -renunciation of the Protestant religion, and Turenne was not the man to -sacrifice his faith to his worldly interest. The King, on hearing the -decision, invented a new title, ‘Henri de la Tour d’Auvergne, fût -intitulé Maréchal Général, des Camps, et des armées du Roi.’ - -In the month of June, the Kings of France and Spain, attended by a -brilliant assemblage of princes, nobles, and officers, met on the Ile -des Faisans, formed by the river Bidassoa, which separates the two -kingdoms,—a small and insignificant place, suddenly transformed into a -theatre for the display of the magnificence and luxury in which the -Courts of both nations delighted. The young King of France, in the -flower of his age, handsome in form and features, and majestic in -bearing, the venerable King Philip IV., and Anne of Austria, sumptuous -in dress and imposing in manner. The brother and sister, who had not met -for nearly half a century, fell on each other’s neck and shed tears of -joy, though the tender affection thus manifested had not prevented them -from engaging for so long a space of time in bloody warfare. Perhaps the -most distinguished member of the French King’s Court was the Marshal -Turenne, who kept as much as was possible in the background, until -singled out by the King of Spain, who desired that he should be -presented. Gazing with eager scrutiny at the world-renowned soldier, -‘That is the man,’ he said, ‘who has caused me so many sleepless -nights.’ The Treaty of the Pyrenees produced a temporary lull in -European hostilities; but Spain and Portugal were still at issue, and -France involved in their quarrels. - -In March 1661 died Cardinal Mazarin, who had been Prime Minister for -sixteen years, and the King assumed the reins of government, retaining -the heads of the Administration in office, but constantly consulting his -faithful friend, the Vicomte, on matters political as well as military; -and war being declared between England and Holland, France sided with -the latter country. The Vicomtesse de Turenne died the same year, to the -great sorrow of her husband. His biographer speaks of the noble lady in -high terms, ‘casting but one slur on her memory,—she clung to the -prejudices of her childhood, even though she had the advantage of -lengthened conferences with the most eminent divines of the Church of -Rome;’ _Anglicè_, she had remained steadfast in the Protestant faith. - -Anne of Austria was no sooner dead than Louis XIV. once more declared -war with Spain and the Emperor of Germany, at the same time, -strengthening himself by fresh alliances with England, Holland, Sweden, -and other powers. He then announced to Turenne his intention to place -himself at the head of his army, and learn the art of war under the -auspices of that great commander. The rapid successful advances of the -French arms alarmed both England and Holland, and caused them to form a -defensive league with Sweden, under the name of The Triple Alliance, the -object of which was to arrest the encroachments of France. - -A treaty between Spain and Portugal, by which the independence of the -last-named country was established, was shortly followed by the peace of -Aix-la-Chapelle, which compelled Louis to come to terms with Spain. The -enumeration of these diplomatic relations is essential to the details of -our biography. - -Turenne had now leisure, although it did not last long, to turn his -thoughts seriously to a subject which for some time past had occupied -his mind. He had often, in his letters to his wife, expressed doubts and -scruples on points of religious faith, and it is supposed that he would -have embraced the Roman Catholic creed earlier, had he not feared, by so -doing, to afflict and distress the wife whom he loved so dearly. Be this -as it may, he now saw and conferred with the eloquent and learned Abbé -de Bossuet, afterwards Bishop of Meaux, and the result was that he -abjured the faith for which his house had fought and bled, and was -received into the Church of Rome. Unable as we are to join in the -exultation of the Marshal’s biographer on this point, we still coincide -with him in the belief that no hope of worldly advancement had any part -in Turenne’s change of creed. We are told that he became from that time -more rigid in his morals, more circumspect in his life, and, at all -events, the answer he made to his confessor deserves to be recorded. The -priest asked him whether he had fallen back into a fault, of which he -had repented. ‘Je n’ai jamais manqué de parole aux hommes, en -manquerais-je à Dieu?’ - -He went very little into society, and even showed an inclination towards -a monastic life, having a great desire to give himself up to the study -of theology; but the King, alarmed at the prospect of losing services -invaluable to the State, interfered to prevent him from taking this -step. Turenne now resided in Paris, surrounded by a small circle of -friends, keeping a frugal table, ‘where the conversation was far more -remarkable than the fare.’ - -About this time occurred an episode in his life which occasioned him -lasting regret. Louis XIV., feeling himself bound and crippled by the -conditions of the Triple Alliance, consulted with his Prime Minister -Louvois, and his faithful friend the Vicomte de Turenne, on the -possibility of detaching the King of England from his share in the -Treaty. Turenne was a constant visitor at the Court of the Duchess of -Orleans, sister of Charles II., and he now turned his thoughts towards -influencing that Princess to persuade her brother to secede from the -Alliance. Now Madame had a young and very beautiful lady-in-waiting, the -Marquise de Coëtquen, daughter of the Duke of Rohan-Chabot, who was a -great favourite with her royal mistress. Turenne thought it would serve -his purpose to win the confidence of the Duchess through the medium of -her lady, and, feeling a security in the disparity of years, paid Madame -de Coëtquen the most marked attention; while she, on her part, seemed to -ignore the difference of age, being highly flattered by the devotion of -so great a personage. A hero’s heart is proverbially susceptible (we -have already seen that Turenne was not exempt from such amiable -weaknesses); and he was accepted as a lover. The two were inseparable, -and the _liaison_ attracted the attention of the Duke of Orleans. -Jealous of his wife’s favour at Court, he imagined that some political -intrigue was being carried on, in which the Marquise and the Marshal -were implicated. He accordingly directed his favourite, the fascinating -Chevalier de Lorraine, to devote himself to Madame de Coëtquen, and -extract the secret from her. In order to please her younger adorer, the -lady wrung from the Marshal the details of the King’s conversation, -which she immediately imparted to the Chevalier. - -The Duke of Orleans in a fury sought the Royal presence, and complained -to the King that every one was trusted with State secrets except -himself; but that he had ascertained without doubt that steps were being -taken to annul the Triple Alliance. - -The King, indignant at the betrayal of his confidence, summoned Turenne -to his presence, and burst into violent complaints against Louvois, -‘For,’ said his Majesty, ‘you and he were the only persons to whom I -mentioned the subject.’ The Minister had always shown himself inimical -to Turenne, and never lost an opportunity of endeavouring to lower or -supplant him in the Royal favour, a circumstance of which the Marshal -was well aware; but he was in no way tempted to swerve from his -unwavering veracity. He exonerated the Minister, by taking the whole -blame on himself, and confessed that, in a moment of weakness, he had -divulged the King’s secret to Madame de Coëtquen. - -‘A fellow-feeling makes one (sometimes) wondrous kind:’ the King, -perhaps reflecting he might have acted in the same manner in a similar -position, forgave his friend; but Turenne never forgave himself or the -lady, whom he never saw again. For himself, many years afterwards, when -the Chevalier de Lorraine jestingly inquired some particulars of the -affair, the Vicomte replied, ‘Commençons par éteindre les bougies.’ - -The Duchess of Orleans, as is well known, did undertake the mission to -her brother, in which she was successful; and shortly after her return -to France, she retired to St. Cloud, accompanied by several nobles; -among others the Vicomte de Turenne and the Duc de la Rochefoucauld. Her -sudden and mysterious death, generally believed to be the effect of -poison, in the bloom of life and beauty, threw a deep gloom over the -whole nation. Turenne, in particular, was profoundly affected by the -event, and again contemplated the idea of retirement from the world; but -France could not spare him, and he was soon once more in the field, -gaining fresh laurels. His last campaign was the crowning-point in his -glory, and in the beginning of the year 1675 he returned to Versailles, -his whole route one triumphal procession, flowers strewing his path, -acclamations and blessings attending him wherever he appeared. In the -whole of France no enemy was left, with the exception of such as were -prisoners; on his arrival at Versailles, he was embraced by the King, -and congratulated and made much of by all classes. - -In the early summer of 1675, Turenne, at the head of the French army, -and the Count de Montecuculi, in command of the Imperialists, were -pitted against each other. Few periods in European history could have -been richer in names of distinguished military commanders,—the King of -France himself, the Prince of Orange, the Prince de Condé, the Elector -of Brandenburg, the Swedish General Wrangel, and above all, the two -heroes, Marshal Turenne and the Count de Montecuculi, who now disputed -with each other the passage of the Rhine. A paragraph in the life of the -former, from which we have so freely quoted, in speaking of the rival -generals, draws so good a parallel that we are tempted to transcribe it -verbatim:— - -‘Les yeux de toute l’Europe furent fixés sur ces deux grands capitaines, -tous deux à peu près du même âge, qui avoient eu la même éducation, -formés par deux oncles rivaux, le Prince Maurice, et le Comte Ernest, -ils avoient porté le mousquet, avant que de parvenir à aucune grade, et -acquis par cinquante années de combats une expérience consommée dans -toutes les parties de l’art militaire. L’un et l’autre avoit reçu du -ciel un esprit supérieur, un jugement solide, et un sangfroid, qui dans -un général n’est pas moins nécessaire, que la prévoyance et la valeur. -Capitaines par étude, ils combattoient par principes, et ne donnoient -presque rien à la fortune. Adorés du soldat, l’amour pour le général -plutôt que l’obéissance due au souverain, paroissoit animer l’une et -l’autre armée. Ces deux généraux se connoissoient, s’estimoient, et se -craignoient mutuellement, ni l’un ni l’autre n’osoit attendre la -victoire des fautes de son ennemi, il falloit l’emporter, à force de -génie, et de science militaire.’ - -This last campaign was pronounced by an unquestionable authority to be -the _chef d’œuvre_ alike of Turenne and Montecuculi. - -Their marches, countermarches, attacks and retreats, were worthy of -themselves and of each other; but Turenne was stronger and more active -than his rival, who often suffered from gout, which prevented his being -as much on horseback as he desired. - -On the 27th of July the two armies drew up in order of battle not far -from the village of Salzbach, and the position seemed so advantageous -for the French troops that Turenne, contrary to his custom, expressed -himself most confidently as to the result. That morning, after hearing -Mass and partaking of the Holy Communion, the Marshal mounted his horse -and carefully reconnoitred the ground. - -‘C’en est fait, je les tiens,’ he said to some by-standing officers. -‘Ils ne pourroient plus m’échapper; je vais recueillir les fruits d’une -si pénible campagne.’ The hero was indeed about to rest from his -labours, but not in the manner he anticipated. Observing a movement in -the enemy’s infantry, which he imagined denoted an intention to retreat, -he alighted from his charger, and sat down to rest under a large tree -and eat his breakfast; after which he again mounted, and rode up a small -eminence, forbidding his officers to follow him, and speaking with -well-simulated severity to his nephew, the Duc d’Elbeuf, ‘Pray do not -stick so close to me,’ he said; ‘you will cause me to be recognised.’ -The youth’s life was very dear to him. The English general, Hamilton, -now came up, and begged him not to ‘ride up there, for they are firing -in that direction.’ Turenne smiled, and said, ‘Oh, I must not be killed -to-day,’ and passed on his way. He then met General St. Hilaire, who -asked his opinion of the spot at which he had stationed a battery. -Turenne reined back his horse a few paces in order to judge, when a -stray shot shattered St. Hilaire’s arm, and lodged in the middle of the -Marshal’s body. His favourite charger, ‘La Pie,’ wheeled round, and -galloped back to the point where he had left his company, then, halting -suddenly, the lifeless body of Henri de la Tour d’Auvergne fell into the -arms of his weeping soldiers. Twice he opened his eyes and moved his -lips, but never spoke again; while St. Hilaire thus addressed his son, -who was lamenting over his father’s sufferings: ‘Keep your tears,’ he -said, ‘for the great man whom we have this day lost.’ The consternation -of the spectators of this sad scene was indescribable; no one appeared -to have retained his presence of mind. Hamilton ordered a cloak to be -thrown over the body, and desired that the Marshal’s death should be -kept secret as long as possible, foreseeing the panic which would ensue -in the French army. But the news soon spread, and infused fresh vigour -into the enemy’s troops. The gallant and generous Montecuculi, on -hearing his great rival was no more, was much affected, and uttered -these memorable words (no insignificant or inappropriate epitaph), ‘Il -est mort! un homme qui faisoit honneur à l’homme.’ The intelligence -spread from rank to rank, and was at first received in dead silence, -broken after a few moments by sobs, and the loud cry, ‘Our father is -dead, and we are lost!’ Then they rushed in crowds to gaze on his dead -body, and called on their officers to lead them on to revenge his death. -But no one seemed willing to take the command. There was delay and -deliberation, till the soldiers again burst forth angrily, ‘Lâchez la -Pie, elle nous conduira.’ - -The Marshal’s death changed and reversed the plans of both armies. The -French began to retire, the Imperialists to advance, and on the 29th a -desperate battle took place, with considerable loss on both sides, after -which the French crossed the Rhine in retreat. So strong was their -belief, even to superstition, in the ruling star of Turenne, that some -soldiers were overheard to say, ‘If our father had been alive we should -not have been wounded.’ - -On their march to Paris, the troops paid funeral honours to their -beloved commander,—his nephews and brother officers with crape-bound -arms, the soldiers with muskets reversed, the voice of the officiating -priest often inaudible from the sobs and lamentations of the mourners. -The King was deeply affected, as we learn from Madame de Sévigné’s -touching letter to her daughter, and all the more so, that he received a -despatch from the Marshal, full of the most sanguine anticipations of -coming victory simultaneously with the account of his death. So deep a -sensation was produced at Court, that, marvellous to relate, a projected -fête that was to have taken place at Versailles was postponed, and a -courtier was on the point of fainting! - -When the hero’s body reached Paris, the King ordered it to be placed in -the Chapel of St. Denis, usually allotted to the Royal family. It was -not only in the French capital that people of all classes came to swell -the funeral procession, artisans leaving their work unfinished for that -purpose, but all the way along the road from the Rhine country, marks of -honour and respect were paid, alike by friend and foe. The Court, the -Parliament, the University, the Municipality, all attended the Marshal’s -funeral, and the most celebrated divines vied with one another in -eulogising him from the pulpit. Père Mascaron, in his funeral oration, -says, ‘Au milieu du tumulte et du bruit des armes, les sentimens du -chrétien, accompagnoient, animoient, et perfectionnoient, en lui, ceux -du heros.’ - -In emergencies his decisions were prompt; where the matter did not press -he took time to consider. His military skill needs no encomium; to that -his whole life bore testimony. His early education had taught him to -revere discipline, and he consequently submitted willingly to those in -authority, except—as in the case of the Prime Minister Louvois, who -presumed to dictate to him on military tactics—when they interfered in -matters with which they were not competent to deal. The love his -soldiers bore him bordered upon worship, and he returned their -affection. Although a strict disciplinarian, he always tempered justice -with mercy; he shared the hardships of the men, and ministered to their -comforts, frequently paying out of his own privy purse the arrears which -he could not wring from the Government. His compassion to his prisoners -made him esteemed among his enemies; and he was most severe in the -prohibition of pillage. In one of his campaigns (we allude to it with -deep regret), his own troops, driven to terrible straits in the matter -of provisions, and burning with the desire to take reprisals for -cruelties practised on their countrymen, Turenne not only sanctioned, -but enforced, devastation and destruction in the Palatinate; so much so, -that the Elector wrote him a furious letter, terminating with a -challenge. His love of truth was proverbial; his simple word outweighed -the oaths of other men, and his own memoirs vouch for his modesty of -speech. When he alluded to a defeat, he used to say, ‘The battle I -lost;’ when to a victory, ‘The battle we gained.’ He was moral and -religious; he hated excess of any kind, and, with the exception of -occasional attacks of gout, his health was good to the end. In -appearance, Turenne was about the middle height, broad shoulders, bushy -eyebrows, and rather heavy features; simple but decent in dress. - -In youth he had loved athletic exercises and military studies too well -to give his thoughts to other branches of learning; but as years passed -on, he became aware how necessary is general knowledge to a commander, -and he gave his mind to the study of history, geography, languages, etc. -He was not carried away by impulse, but calm in adversity as in -prosperity, unmoved by abuse or praise, he went like an arrow straight -to the mark. His pride was that of birth; his glory was in the honour of -his house, never in his own. He treated his brother as a sovereign, and -even yielded the _pas_ to his nephew, while he, the latter, was still a -child. - -Numerous anecdotes are told of Turenne, which redound to his advantage. -An officer, wishing to ingratiate himself with the general, showed him a -way to obtain a large sum of money, and ‘no one be the wiser.’ ‘Thank -you,’ said Turenne coldly; ‘I have had plenty of such chances before -now, without taking advantage of them.’ - -Another time, the inhabitants of a certain town came to offer him a -considerable bribe if he would not pass through their district. ‘Keep -your money,’ was the reply; ‘you do not lie in my line of march.’ - -Walking one evening on the ramparts of a town, he was attacked by -several robbers, who insisted on his giving them a ring he habitually -wore. The Marshal calmly began to parley with them. ‘See, my friends,’ -he said, ‘we will come to terms. If you will leave me in possession of -that trinket, I will promise you a hundred louis, which is considerably -above its value. I have not the money on my person, but if one of you -will come and claim it to-morrow, I will guarantee your safety.’ - -No one ever doubted the Marshal’s given word. The next morning, -surrounded by his staff, Turenne received the robbers’ messenger, and -giving him the money, dismissed him with courtesy, much to the surprise -and amusement of his officers, when made acquainted with the facts of -the case. - -One day a servant of his household, coming behind him so quickly as not -to recognise the Marshal, dealt him a heavy blow; overcome with -confusion, the man apologised in the humblest terms, offering as an -excuse that he thought it was a fellow-servant. ‘Well,’ said his master, -smiling good-naturedly, though still smarting from the blow, ‘even if it -had been George, you need not have hit so hard.’ - -Turenne was mourned, not only by his countrymen and his allies, but his -very enemies showed the greatest respect for his memory. The spot where -he fell was left untouched, and the tree under which he had reposed -shortly before his death was held sacred by the peasants, and pointed -out by them to passers-by. Neither did it perish through decay, but was -carried off branch by branch as trophies, by soldiers of all nations. In -1781 the Cardinal de Rohan erected a monument to his memory at Salzbach, -which was repaired by Moreau in 1801, and about thirty years afterwards -a large pyramid of granite was raised on the spot. - -Many and strange were the vicissitudes which befell the body of this -great man. It was placed (as we have said) in the Royal Chapel of St. -Denis, by order of Louis XIV., and when the tombs of the royal family -were desecrated in the Revolution of 1793, Turenne’s embalmed body was -so well preserved as to be an object of desire to the owner of a Museum -of Natural History. He gained permission to place it there, and it was -exhibited among the skeletons and fossils of animals for some time, and -then removed to an antiquarian museum for the edification of its -members. Buonaparte, who had a profound admiration for the memory of the -great soldier, caused the remains to be carried with much solemnity to -the Church of the Invalides, and there deposited, while the Marshal’s -heart, which had been placed in the Abbey of Cluny, was restored to his -family. - -This splendid picture is said to be the only equestrian portrait extant -by Rembrandt. Its date has been given 1649-1650, when it is said in a -Life of the painter that Turenne passed a month in Holland, and this -picture was most probably painted. It was bought in 1740 by the Earl of -Grantham (father-in-law to the second Earl Cowper) from a private -collection at Amsterdam. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -_No. 2._ - - THREE CHILDREN, ARCHDUCHESSES OF AUSTRIA. - -_White quilted frocks. One child holds a bird. One is in a cradle with a - blue coverlet._ - - BY TITIAN. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 3._ - - ANDREA VANNUCCHI DETTO DEL SARTO. - -_Seated writing at a table, with striped cover. Black dress and cap._ - - BORN 1488, DIED 1530. - - BY HIMSELF. - - -HE was the son of a tailor in Florence; and this trade, which is so -often (for one reason or another) spoken of derisively in England, has -surely gained to Italian ears a species of glorification, from the -sobriquet attached to this illustrious painter. When only seven years -old, the little Andrea was taken from the school where he received -instruction in reading and writing, and placed with a goldsmith in the -city. Even at that tender age his predilection for drawing, and even -designing, showed itself, and, in like manner, his aversion to handling -the mechanical instruments used in the handicraft. Indeed, the boy’s -drawings were so clever as to attract the attention of one Gian Barile, -a Florentine painter; so much so, that he did not rest until he had -secured Andrea for his own studio; and as old Vasari quaintly says, ‘No -sooner did the boy begin to exercise himself in the art of painting than -he acknowledged that Nature had created him for that employment.’ In a -very short space of time, Andrea, or Del Sarto, as he was called, -produced such excellent pieces of colour as to excite the admiration of -his master and all the artists in Florence, more especially Piero -Cosimo, whose works were much esteemed in the city, and who proceeded to -engage Andrea as his pupil. Nothing could be more diligent than the -young man proved himself, studying and copying the cartoons of Michel -Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci, etc., which were allotted the scholars as -models; and he surpassed all his fellow-workers in the studio and -academy, with one of whom, Francia Bigio, he soon formed an intimate -friendship. One day, working, as was their custom, side by side, the two -young men began to compare notes, with respect to the manner in which -they were treated by their respective masters; they had each complaints -to make; they were each discontented with their lot. After some little -discussion, they resolved to set up house, or rather to take a room, -together, which they accordingly did, in the Piazza del Grano. Here they -laboured diligently, painting chiefly sacred subjects for galleries, -churches, etc., both in oil and in fresco. There was at that time a -confraternity, ‘Detto del Scalzo,’ whose meetings were held in the Via -Larga. They were formed for the most part of the artificers of the city, -but included men of all classes, who met for charitable and religious -purposes; although not essentially a religious order, they took the name -of The Scalzo, from the fact that when they met in prayer, or to walk in -procession, they went barefoot. This company was most desirous that -Andrea del Sarto should adorn the walls of their court with paintings -from the life of their patron saint, St. John the Baptist. The company -was not very wealthy, neither was our painter grasping, whatever may -have been said of him later on, when subjected to a bad influence. He -cheerfully undertook the work for a small remuneration, and reaped his -reward, for these frescoes added so considerably to his fame that -innumerable orders came in from all sides. He now moved to better -quarters (in company with Francia Bigio), from the Piazza del Grano to a -house situated in the neighbourhood of the Annunziata, where he made -acquaintance with Jacopo Tatti, better known as the celebrated -Sansovino, in whose society and conversation Andrea took so much delight -that the two young enthusiasts in art became almost inseparable. Del -Sarto was now gaining a good income, and might have been happy in the -company of his friends, and the pursuit of his beloved art, but for a -false step which involved his whole life in ruin and disaster. In the -Via San Gallo lived a certain hatter, who had married Lucrezia -Bartolommeo de Fede, the daughter of indigent and ill-conditioned -parents. She was a young woman of exceeding beauty, violent and arrogant -by nature, exercising a tyrannical influence over her many admirers, of -whom Andrea was one of the most infatuated. Unfortunately for our -painter, the husband died suddenly, and nothing would content Del Sarto -but he would immediately espouse his inamorata. From the very beginning -of their married life she possessed such a mastery over him that he was -her slave in everything, and spent all his time and money on her and her -relations, neglecting, in consequence, his own aged parents, whom he had -hitherto supported. His friends shunned his society, his servants -quitted his service, so ungenial and unamiable was the behaviour of -Lucrezia. - -The fame of Del Sarto’s great talent had reached the ears of Francis I., -King of France, who gave him orders for pictures, and invited him to -Paris—a proposition which smiled upon Andrea; but he was detained in -Florence to assist in the splendid decorations of the city, in which all -the painters, sculptors, and architects were employed, to celebrate the -triumphal entry of Pope Leo X., of the house of Medici; and the -beautiful works of Andrea on this occasion inspired his Holiness with -unqualified admiration. The unworthy woman to whom he was united -interfered with his advancement in every way; although unable to throw -off the spell by which she bound him, he began to find her tyranny -irksome, and he listened to the advice of a friend, who bade him -separate from her for a season, and assert his independence. This was in -1518, when Francis I., having renewed his invitation to our painter to -enter his service, Del Sarto gladly accepted the money which had been -sent him for the journey, and proceeded to Paris, where the King -received him with every mark of distinction, and gave him a settled -salary, together with gifts and garments of most costly description. -Caressed and admired by the monarch and his whole Court, Andrea set to -work in high spirits, and began, as it were, a new life. Amongst other -pictures, he painted one of the King’s infant son, in rich -swaddling-clothes, which so delighted Francis that he gave the artist on -the spot three hundred dollars. This was a happy period in Andrea’s -life; he painted numerous portraits and historical and sacred pictures -for the King and his courtiers, and was much esteemed by all. These -halcyon days were not destined to be of long duration. He was occupied -in finishing a St. Jerome for the Queen-Mother when he received a letter -from his evil genius; in this epistle Lucrezia appealed to his -affection, his compassion, his duty as a husband, coaxing, menacing, -exciting his easily roused feelings, and working on them so strongly as -to make him seek the Royal presence and ask leave of absence, promising -to return shortly with his wife, and to bring with him some fine works -of painting and sculpture. He pledged his solemn word to this effect, -and the generous-hearted King furnished him with fresh funds for the -journey and the commission. - -On his arrival in Florence, once more under the sway of his unworthy -wife, Andrea gave in to her every wish, and with the money that he had -made, and, it is also to be feared, the sums intrusted to him by the -French King, he built a house, and lavished large sums on Lucrezia and -her family, still to the detriment of his own parents. When the time of -his leave had expired, he made a feeble attempt to return to his duty, -but he could not withstand the prayers, tears, and expostulations of his -wife, and thus broke his plighted word, and relinquished his hopes of -honourable advancement in France. The King, exasperated at such conduct, -expressed himself in most indignant terms, and vowed he would never -harbour another painter from Florence. Thus was Andrea hurled from a -high and honourable estate by the wicked woman he had made his wife,—the -model for almost every picture he painted, sacred or secular, and whose -lineaments were so vividly impressed on his memory that he often -involuntarily reproduced them on canvas. - -Leo X. had given a commission for the ornamentation and decoration of -the dome of the great hall at Poggi a Cajano, one of the Medicean villas -near Florence, to be executed in stucco and frescoes by the best -Florentine artists, and Andrea’s contribution on that occasion is -described in glowing terms by his admirer Vasari. It represented Cæsar -receiving the present of innumerable animals of every description, the -delineation of which, in their truth and variety, could not be -surpassed. He interspersed the birds and beasts with Oriental natives in -picturesque costume, and we quote Vasari’s words, ‘Altre belle fantasie, -lavorate in fresco divinissimamente.’ The choice of this subject was -supposed to convey an allusion to the menagerie of animals which had -been sent to Lorenzo the Magnificent some years before by an Eastern -potentate. - -The works at Poggi a Cajano were stopped in consequence of the death of -Pope Leo, and Andrea’s fresco was afterwards finished by Bronzino. He -began bitterly to repent his ingratitude to the French King, and if he -had had the slightest hope of obtaining pardon, he would have risked -going to Paris. Several times he resolved to send some of his best -pictures to the French capital, with the chance of their meeting the -King’s eye, but the idea was relinquished. In 1523 the beautiful city of -Florence and its environs were visited by the plague, which caused a -terrible mortality; but in that country everything that happens seems to -tend to picturesque and poetical results, and all the world knows how -Boccaccio glorified that affliction by the production of his -_Decameron_. - -Andrea, with his wife and daughter-in-law, her sister, and a child, -desirous of escaping from the infected neighbourhood, and at the same -time to continue his labours, gladly accepted an order from the nuns of -San Pier de Luco, of the Order of Camaldoli, to paint for them a Pieta -in their convent at Mugello. In consequence of these holy women -caressing and making much of the painter, his wife, and the whole -‘troop,’ he determined to stay on for some time in that place, and set -himself to work with great zeal and delight. Vasari’s descriptions of -the beauty and pathos of these paintings are most eloquent in their -old-world style of expression; we regret we have no space for extracts. -On his return to Florence, Del Sarto resumed his labours, and executed -orders without number, chiefly on sacred subjects. He was as skilful in -his copying as in his original paintings, and a curious anecdote is -given in illustration of this fact. - -Frederick, the second Duke of Mantua, in his passage through Florence to -do homage to Pope Clement VII., saw the celebrated portrait of Pope Leo -X., with two Cardinals, the work of the immortal Raphael d’Urbino, with -which he was so much struck, as to excite in him an inordinate desire to -possess that splendid picture; and he made so urgent a request to his -Holiness that Clement knew not how to refuse him, but sent Ottaviano de -Medici, his kinsman, an order to send the painting to Mantua. - -This command was received with dismay at Florence,—for was not that -portrait one of the glories of the city? In this strait Ottaviano sent -for Andrea, took counsel with him, and it was arranged between them that -Del Sarto should make an exact copy of this _capo d’ opera_ of Raphael, -which he executed with such skill in every respect,—not only as regarded -the excellence of the drawing and colouring, but also the reproduction -of certain little marks and after-touches and other details,—so much so -that, when completed, Ottaviano himself confessed he could scarcely -detect the original. The two conspirators were delighted with the -success of their scheme, and the Duke was in like manner delighted with -the picture when it was unpacked at Mantua. Giulio Romano, Raphael’s -disciple and own familiar friend, who was there at the time, never -doubted its authenticity for a moment. But there was a small bird of the -air that carried the matter, and this was young Giorgio Vasari, who had -been brought up in the household of the Medici, and who, when asked by -Giulio Romano if he did not think the portrait in question a splendid -work of Raphael, replied that it was indeed splendid, although not the -work of Raphael, but of Andrea del Sarto. ‘As if it were likely,’ said -Giulio, ‘that I should not recognise the painting! Why, I can see the -very touches I myself added to it.’ ‘For all that,’ persisted the youth, -‘this picture is from the hands of Del Sarto, and I saw him working at -it with my own eyes; and I will prove it to you. If you will look at the -back, you will see a mark which shows that it was executed in Florence.’ -Giulio Romano turned the picture, and finding the mark which confirmed -Vasari’s words, he could only shrug his shoulders and acknowledge the -wonderful talent of the painter, who had made a perfect facsimile of one -of Raphael’s masterpieces. - -Yet one more anecdote, to illustrate the admiration which Andrea’s works -inspired, and we have done. - -At the siege of Florence, in 1529, the infuriated soldiery were sacking -the town, especially the sacred buildings. They had already destroyed -the church and belfry of San Salvi, and rushing into the convent, -undisciplined as they were, their attention was arrested by the fresco -of Andrea del Sarto’s Last Supper, by some esteemed the rival of -Leonardo’s Cenacolo at Milan. This divine painting had such an effect on -the minds of those rude men, excited as they were, that, after gazing on -it for a short time in reverence, they left the room in silence, thus -sparing that incomparable work for the wonder and reverence of upwards -of three centuries. After the siege was over, Andrea still cherished a -hope of some day regaining the favour of Francis I., and kept revolving -in his mind how to do so, when he was taken suddenly ill. Some soldiers -who had returned to Florence were said to have brought back the plague, -and food was supposed to have become infected. Whether or not Andrea’s -sickness were of this nature, it is certain he took to his bed, and gave -himself up for lost. His worthless wife fled in terror, leaving him to -die alone, without help or comfort. The brethren Del Scalzo, for whom he -had worked so assiduously, gave him burial, though with great haste and -little ceremony, and a monument was raised to him in the Annunziata by -one of his pupils, with a Latin epitaph, most eulogistic. Lucrezia del -Fede survived Andrea many years, and received payment after his death -for the works of that husband whose life she had helped to make -miserable. Her death took place in 1570. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -_No. 4._ - - PORTRAIT OF AN ITALIAN LADY. - - BY ANDREA DEL SARTO. - - ------------------ - -_No. 5._ - - PORTRAIT, SUPPOSED TO BE THAT OF THE FATTORE OF SAN MARCO, AT FLORENCE. - - BY ANDREA DEL SARTO. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 6._ - - ANDREA DEL SARTO. - - _Nearly the same dress and attitude as the former Portrait._ - - BY HIMSELF. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 7._ - - TOMMASO GUIDI, DETTO MASACCIO. - - _Bright scarlet suit. Black cap._ - - BORN 1402, DIED 1443. DATES NOT VERY CERTAIN. - - -SON of Ser Giovanni Simone, da Castello di San Giovanni, in Val d’Arno. -From his earliest years he cared for nothing but art. Nature designed -him for a painter, and no other amusement or occupation had any charms -for Tommaso. He cared not for money, he did not study his appearance as -is the way with most youths, and from a certain recklessness and lack of -interest in his surroundings, he acquired for himself the epithet of -Masaccio,—most assuredly not from any bad quality that could be -discovered in him, for he was goodness itself. His masters were Masolino -de Panicale in painting, Ghiberti and Donatello in sculpture, and -Brunelleschi in perspective. Could the young aspirant have had more -illustrious teachers? - -He worked assiduously, and received many commissions, chiefly for the -decoration of churches, both in Florence and Pisa, the excellence of -which gained him the friendship and patronage of Cosimo de Medici, who -was always ready to encourage merit in any branch, more especially in -the fine arts. When dark days fell on Florence, and Cosimo was exiled, -Masaccio determined to go to Rome and study the antique. The Pope gave -him many orders, and his paintings in Santa Maria Maggiore gained him -lasting fame, and called forth enthusiastic expressions of admiration -from Michel Angelo many years later. Masaccio was very fond of -introducing portraits into his pictures and frescoes, and in this church -he painted Pope Martin and the Emperor Sigismund II. He was busied over -the façade of San Giovanni, when, hearing his friend Cosimo had been -recalled to Florence, he lost no time in joining him. Cosimo gave him -orders innumerable, and the facility with which Masaccio executed them -was only equalled by their excellence. The notice which was taken of him -in high places, and the superiority of his talents, caused great -jealousy among his fellow-artists, but he worked on. In the church of -the Carmine he painted a procession of citizens repairing to the -consecration of the sacred building, introducing therein innumerable -portraits, amongst others his masters, Masolino, Brunelleschi, -Donatello, etc.,—all marvellous, says Vasari, in their truth and beauty. -Later on, in a painting of St. Peter paying tribute, he depicted his own -likeness, taken from the reflection in a looking-glass, which is -described as to the very life. - -He was attacked by sudden illness in the midst of his successful career, -under which he soon succumbed, and was buried in the church of the -Carmine without an epitaph on the stone, but Annibal Caro wrote the -following in later years:— - - ‘Pinsi, e la mia Pittura, al ver, fu pari; - L’ atteggiai, l’ avvivai, le diedi il moto - Le diedi affetto. Insegni il Bonarroto - A tutti gli altri, e da me solo impari.’ - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 8._ - - ALGERNON PERCY, EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND. - - _Black dress. White collar. Blue ribbon._ - - BORN 1602, DIED 1668. - - BY VANDYCK. - - -THE third son of Henry Percy, ninth Earl of Northumberland, by Dorothy, -daughter of Walter Devereux, Earl of Sussex. Educated at Christ Church, -Oxford, under Robert Hughes, the celebrated mathematician, and in 1616 -was one of the youthful Knights of the Bath at the creation of Charles, -Prince of Wales. - -On the accession of that Prince to the Throne, he was called by writ to -the House of Peers (his father being then alive) as Baron Percy. - -He afterwards, as Privy Councillor, attended the King to Scotland for -his coronation, having by that time succeeded to his father’s titles and -estates. - -In 1636 he had the command of a noble fleet,—the largest, says Lodge, -since the death of Queen Elizabeth. - -Lord Northumberland was much commended for his services in the -expedition against the Dutch fishery, making advantageous terms for the -King of England, after which he turned his time and thoughts to -reforming many abuses then prevalent in the Navy. - -In 1637 he was named Lord High Admiral, and in 1639 commander of the -troops marching against the Scots, but was prevented—so he pleaded—from -joining the army by illness, when the real command devolved on the Earl -of Stafford. Clarendon says, ‘Lord Northumberland was chosen for -ornament.’ It appears by a letter to his brother-in-law (Lord Leicester) -that he had most gloomy forebodings as to the result of the enterprise, -which ‘it grieves my soul to be involved in.’ An incident occurred -shortly afterwards, which does not redound to the credit of the Earl of -Northumberland. - -We will give an abridged account of Lord Clarendon’s version. Henry -Percy, a zealous Royalist, brother to the Earl of Northumberland, was on -his way to France, on the King’s service, just at the time that the -Commons had petitioned Charles to prohibit any of his servants leaving -England. Striving to embark, he was attacked and wounded by the people -of the Sussex coast, and narrowly escaped with his life to a place of -concealment, whence he wrote to his brother in a private and -confidential manner. Northumberland carried the letter to the House of -Commons (which had already voted an impeachment of high treason against -Henry Percy), and laid the document upon the table. Clarendon makes but -a lame defence for his conduct on the part of the elder brother, who -was, he said, ‘in great trouble how to send Henry in safety beyond seas, -when his wound was cured, he having taken shelter at Northumberland -House.’ - -But the end of the matter was, that Henry did escape from England, and -there was enmity between the brethren from that day forth. This was the -first time in which Northumberland ‘showed his defection from the King’s -cause, and Charles had been a good friend to him, and laden him with -bounties.’ - -He acted in direct opposition to the King’s commands, when he obeyed -those of the Parliament, to equip the Royal Navy, and to appoint the -Earl of Warwick Admiral of the Fleet. - -In 1642 he resigned his commission of Lord High Admiral, and openly -abandoned his allegiance, siding with the Parliamentarians; and though -their faith was rather shaken in him on one occasion, he was too -valuable an ally to quarrel with. - -Northumberland was appointed head of the Commissioners employed to -negotiate with the King, in the several treaties of Oxford, Uxbridge, -etc., and was intrusted with the custody of the Royal children, which he -retained until the King’s death. It would appear that he had at least -the grace to facilitate their interviews with their unhappy and loving -father, and that he cared for the wellbeing of his Royal wards. They -were subsequently committed to the guardianship of his sister, the -Countess of Leicester, and were removed to her Lord’s house of Penshurst -in Kent. - -Words, in truth, Lord Northumberland used to prevent the execution of -the King, but his deeds had hastened the catastrophe. We are told he -‘detested the murder.’ Immediately after Charles’s death Northumberland -repaired to his seat at Petworth, in Sussex, where he remained until -1660, when he joined Monck in his exertions to bring about the -Restoration. He held no public office under Charles II., excepting the -Lord-Lieutenancies of Sussex and Northumberland. Clarendon, in a long -character of him, says: ‘His temper and reservedness in discourse got -him the reputation of a wise man. In his own family no one was ever more -absolutely obeyed, or had fewer idle words to answer for;’ and, alluding -to his defection from the Royal cause, ‘After he was first prevailed -upon not to do that which in honour and gratitude he was obliged to, he -was with the more facility led to concur in what in duty and fidelity he -ought not to have done, and so he concurred in all the counsels which -produced the Rebellion, and stayed with them to support it.’ - -He took great delight in his gardens and plantations at Petworth, where -he resided in the summer, but in the winter he was much in town, -attending to his Parliamentary duties. He had two wives: the first was -Lady Anne Cecil, daughter to Thomas, second Earl of Salisbury. On her -death we hear Lord Northumberland ‘is a very sad man, and his sister -(Lady Leicester) has gone to comfort him.’ By Lady Anne he had five -daughters. His second wife was the second daughter of Theophilus Howard, -second Earl of Suffolk, who brought him in Northumberland House in -London, originally called Northampton House. Sion House had been granted -by the Crown to the ninth Earl. Evelyn went to see it, and thought it -‘pretty, but the garden more celebrated than it deserved.’ - -By Lady Elizabeth Howard, who long survived her husband, he had an only -son and heir, and a daughter, who died unmarried. Algernon, Earl of -Northumberland, was buried at Petworth, in Sussex. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 9._ - - SIR ANTHONY VANDYCK. - - _Black dress. White collar._ - - BORN 1599, DIED 1641. - - A HEAD BY HIMSELF. - - -A NATIVE of Antwerp, his father, a merchant in silk and woollen stuffs, -was himself a painter in glass, whose first wife, Cornelia Kerseboom, -dying without children, he married again one Maria Cuypers, by whom he -had a large family, Anthony being the seventh, a proverbially magic -number. The Vandycks were strenuous adherents of the Church of Rome, and -two of our painter’s sisters became nuns, while one of his brothers took -Holy Orders. Maria Vandyck was a skilful artist in embroidery, her works -being much admired, and she encouraged her boy’s taste for drawing, in -the rudiments of which he received instruction from his father. When -about ten years of age he was placed under the tuition of Henry van -Balen, a much-esteemed painter, who had studied in Italy. Here young -Vandyck remained some time, but he had fixed his heart on becoming the -pupil of his already famous fellow-citizen, Peter Paul Rubens; and that -desire was fulfilled. His remarkable talent and his untiring industry -made him a favourite both with master and scholars, when an incident -happened which brought the youth into prominent notice. It so chanced -that one afternoon, when Rubens was absent, that the students invaded -the sanctity of the private studio, and in the exuberance of animal -spirits began to indulge in some rough play. An unfinished Holy Family -stood on the easel, the colours not yet dry, and in the course of the -‘bear-fight’ one of his companions pushed Van Diepenbeke so heavily -against the precious canvas that the arm of the Magdalene and the head -of the Virgin were nearly effaced, and the colours all smudged. The -general consternation may be easily conceived; a council of war was -held, and the decision arrived at that the most skilful among the -students should endeavour to repair the mischief as best he could. Jan -van Hoeck proposed Vandyck for the work, and the choice was unanimously -approved, for in such a case there was no room for rivalry. Anthony set -to work in right earnest; there was not a moment to be lost. He had but -a few hours of daylight to complete his task, but he accomplished it -before nightfall. Early next morning the dreaded moment arrived. Rubens -entered his studio in order to examine the work of the preceding -evening, when he pronounced the memorable words, which seemed to bestow -a diploma on his young disciple,—‘Why, this looks better than it did -yesterday!’ Then, approaching nearer, he detected the traces of a -strange hand. Investigation and explanation followed, and Vandyck came -in for great praise from the lips of his loved master. - -Idle tales have been told of the jealousy subsisting between these two -great painters, while, on the contrary, every recorded instance seems to -prove how close was their friendship. Rubens was most desirous that his -talented pupil should proceed to Italy to study the works of the great -masters, and extend his connection with the world, but in the meantime -Vandyck received an invitation to England. The first visit he paid to -our country was short and unsatisfactory; and there are so many -discrepancies in the accounts given of the work done at that period, and -his reasons for leaving somewhat abruptly, that we refrain from entering -on the subject. From England he proceeded to the Hague, where he painted -portraits of every class and denomination of person, commencing with the -whole family and Court of the Stadtholder, Henry Frederic, including -every member of the illustrious house of Nassau. Nobles, warriors, -statesmen, burghers, all vied for the honour of sitting to him. - -In 1622 the news of his father’s illness recalled him to Antwerp. He -arrived just in time to receive that father’s last farewell, and listen -to his last injunctions. Franz Vandyck made his son promise to paint an -altar-piece for the chapel of the Dominican Sisters, who had nursed him -tenderly during his illness,—a pledge nobly redeemed by Anthony, though -the execution was postponed for a time. He then took leave of his -master, to whom he presented, at parting, three pictures, one of which -was the likeness of Rubens’s first wife. - -Our painter now set his face towards Italy, but he did not get far on -his road without a hindrance. The story of the little episode we are -about to relate is so differently given, that we only pretend to offer -the most likely version. - -At Brussels, where Vandyck tarried, the Infanta Isabella gave him a -commission to paint the mistress of her Highness’s favourite hounds, a -beautiful girl, by the name of Anna von Orphen. We are not told why a -maiden of lowly origin was chosen for a place, though not very exalted, -about Court, unless it were on account of her loveliness. But the -portrait was executed, and Anna appeared, surrounded by her pack, each -dog having its name duly inscribed on the canvas. - -The picture is mentioned as being at the castle of Tervueren, near -Brussels, in 1763. Vandyck speedily fell a victim to the charms of the -lovely villager of Saventheim, and at her cottage he whiled away some -months, to the great indignation of Rubens, who continued to write and -expostulate with his former pupil, pointing out to him the value and -importance of the time he was losing. Vandyck, however, was not wholly -idle while at Saventheim; he painted (it is said at the instigation of -his mistress) two pictures: one a Holy Family, in which he introduced -likenesses of Anna and her family, and the other a St. Martin, being his -own portrait, riding a horse which Rubens had given him. The -last-mentioned painting was held in such high estimation by the -inhabitants of Saventheim, that on three separate occasions, at the -interval of many years, the peasantry rose _en masse_ to prevent the -treasure from being carried away, either by fraud or purchase. - -At length Rubens hit on an expedient to extricate his friend from the -spells of his rustic Armida. He sent the Chevalier Nanni, who was _en -route_ for Italy, to urge on Vandyck the expediency of accompanying him -thither. The arguments chosen were successful; the lovers parted with -mutual regret. Poor Anna was left disconsolate, and Vandyck set forth on -a journey which was destined to be a triumphal progress. We have no -space to detail his residence at Venice, where he studied Titian and -Veronese, or his still longer sojourn at Genoa, where he became the -favourite guest of the proudest nobles of the proud city, in which -almost every palace is enriched by the works of the great Fleming, -chiefly consisting of portraits, with a sprinkling of sacred subjects. -This was the period when, as Vandyck afterwards confessed, he painted -for fame, and not alone for money. At Rome, where he remained several -years, the first order he undertook was the world-renowned portrait of -Cardinal Bentivoglio, which, when once seen, attracted crowds of sitters -to the studio, as at Genoa, including not only the nobility of the city, -but most of the visitors sojourning there at the time. A most curious -portrait of that period may now be seen at Petworth, representing Sir -Robert Shirley, who had come from the East on a mission to his Holiness, -representing him and his Persian wife both in Oriental costume. In the -Duke of Buccleuch’s invaluable collection of miniatures there is a most -eccentric effigy of this same lady, in the dress—or shall we say -undress?—of her country. - -On leaving Rome, many writers say driven thence by the jealousy of -fellow-artists, especially among his own countrymen, Vandyck proceeded -_via_ Florence to visit the more northern cities of Italy, and after -paying a second visit to his favourite Genoa, he sailed with his friend, -the Chevalier Nanni, for Sicily, whither he had been invited by Prince -Philibert of Savoy, who sat to him, as did also the famous painter -Sofonisba Angusciola, celebrated alike for her talents and her romantic -adventures. This remarkable woman was in her ninety-second year, and -quite blind, but her mind was clear, and her love of art as keen as -ever; and Vandyck said he had learned more from the conversation of this -blind old lady than from all his former studies. - -There is a charming portrait of her by her own hand, when young and -handsome, in the collection of Earl Spencer at Althorp. Vandyck was -driven from Sicily by the breaking out of the plague, and he once more -set out for Antwerp, which he reached about the end of 1626. In his -native city he at first shared the proverbial fate of the prophet in his -own country; he found few patrons, and many cavilled at the prices, -which were less than had been gladly paid him in Italy. Rubens came to -his rescue by buying every completed picture in his studio, and, -departing from Antwerp on diplomatic missions (from the Archduchess -Isabella) to Portugal and England, left his friend Vandyck the -undisputed master of the field. - -His hands were now full. Orders from numerous religious fraternities in -the city and neighbourhood, anxious to enrich their several churches and -chapels, poured in on all sides, and the candidates for the honour of -sitting to the great painter were incalculable. Yet Vandyck’s cup was -mingled with gall, through the envy and jealousy of his fellow-artists, -who attacked and traduced him on all occasions. He paid another short -visit to England, where the Earl of Northumberland was his chief patron -and employer, and afterwards to Paris; but it was not till 1632 that he -listened to the persuasions of the Earl of Arundel (who many years -before had admired the early promise of Vandyck’s talent), and once more -went over to England. In consequence of the death of Buckingham, who -literally ‘brooked no rival near the throne,’ Lord Arundel was in high -favour with his Royal master, and King and subject were alike -enthusiastic worshippers of art. - -Vandyck was received at Court with every mark of distinction. Charles I. -provided apartments for him, and in all respects treated him as a -personal friend, taking the greatest delight in his society. It was -supposed that his Majesty had even entertained the idea of building a -house expressly for his guest, since among the State papers, in the -handwriting of one of the officials, there is an entry, ‘Things to be -done: to speak with Inigo Jones concerning a house for Vandike.’ - -The painter was however well lodged at Blackfriars, and a pleasant -summer residence at Eltham was also allotted him. Indeed, wherever he -went, Anthony Vandyck was the centre of attraction, the cynosure of all -eyes. Pre-eminently handsome, brilliant in conversation, a good -linguist, an enlightened traveller, even without the crowning quality of -his splendid talent, the painter must assuredly have proved a shining -light in the refined and aristocratic circles of the English capital. -Courted in society, foremost in art, crowds resorted to his studio. The -King himself was not only his constant sitter, but often dropped down -the river in his royal barge as far as Blackfriars, to pass a pleasant -hour, and gossip of art and artists with his newly-created knight, Sir -Anthony Vandyck, to whom he had presented a valuable miniature of -himself, splendidly set with diamonds. Neither of their Majesties ever -appeared wearied of sitting for their portraits to their ‘Painter in -Ordinary,’ and few records of a sad life can be more touching than the -three heads (at Windsor Castle) of Henrietta Maria, in which Vandyck so -truthfully delineated the mental and physical changes wrought by grief -and misfortune. - -Amongst Vandyck’s closest and most intimate friends may be reckoned the -Earl of Strafford, whose noble and characteristic countenance gazes -intently at us from the walls of so many dwelling-houses, and who was -said to have sat oftener to his artist friend than any one in England, -with the exception of Charles I. and his Queen. Sir Kenelm Digby was -another of Sir Anthony’s chosen companions, and the portraits of the -learned knight and his beautiful wife, Venetia Stanley, have become -familiar to us by the magic touches of Vandyck’s brush. On the sudden -and mysterious death of the ‘divine Venetia,’ her widower summoned the -great painter to portray, for the last time, that lovely countenance in -‘a calm unbroken sleep, that hath no awakening,’—a beautiful and -touching picture, which forms one of the gems of Lord Spencer’s -collection. Notwithstanding the number of his sitters, and the large -sums (by comparison) paid for his paintings, Sir Anthony was invariably -in pecuniary difficulties. Luxurious in his manner of living, splendid -even to ostentation in his dress and equipages, his hospitality was -boundless, his generosity to struggling members of his own profession -proverbial. Added to all his other expenses, there was invariably a -Margaret Lemon, or one of her class, ever ready to drain his purse. On -the subject of his monetary troubles, the noble knight was candid and -outspoken. One day the King and Lord Arundel were sitting in intimate -conversation with the painter in his studio at Blackfriars, when Charles -began a sorrowful dissertation on his own lack of money. Turning to Sir -Anthony, he said with a smile, ‘And you, Sir Knight, has it ever -happened to you to be at a loss where to turn for one or two thousand -pounds?’ ‘Sire,’ was the reply, ‘when a painter keeps an open house for -his friends, and an open purse for his mistresses, he is not unlikely to -have empty coffers.’ It was doubtless on account of these pecuniary -difficulties that Vandyck in his latter days painted in so hurried and -slovenly a manner, as might well have gained him the name of ‘Fa -Presto.’ He got into the habit of intrusting many of the details of his -paintings to the numerous scholars in his studio, and the similarity of -the shape and character of the hands in his portraits, which has so -often been remarked and marvelled at, may surely be accounted for by the -fact that he usually painted the hands from those of models of both -sexes retained by him for that purpose. Yet there were exceptions to -this rule, for Vandyck, who had beautifully formed hands of his own, was -a great admirer of that particular personal charm; and an amusing -anecdote is told of him, when he had a no less noble sitter than -Margaret de Bourbon, daughter to Henry IV. of France. The Royal lady, -after watching Vandyck for some time, ventured the question, why he gave -so much more attention to the painting of her hands than of her head, or -indeed any other detail of the picture. ‘It is, Madam,’ replied Sir -Anthony, with a sly smile, ‘that I anticipate a rich compensation from -those beautiful white hands.’ - -It would not have been difficult, by all accounts, for Vandyck to have -selected a bride from the noblest and most wealthy in the land, so -generally admired was he by the fair sex; but his friends, the King and -the Duke of Buckingham, had already arranged a suitable match, desirable -in every way, excepting that the lady was poor, a fact which seemed an -oversight in the circumstances, or rather in Vandyck’s circumstances. - -Mary Ruthven was the granddaughter of the unfortunate Earl of Gowrie. -Her father, suspected of complicity in the so-called conspiracy, had in -consequence not only been imprisoned, but his property confiscated; -therefore the winsome lady’s dower consisted of goodness, beauty, and -gentle birth, but tocher the lassie had none, excepting a small portion -given her as Lady of the Queen’s Household. She was much esteemed at -Court. During his residence in England Vandyck had paid flying visits to -his native country, and we hear of him, in 1634, serving as Dean of the -Guild of St. Luke’s at Antwerp, which, be it remarked, is the date of -the magnificent portrait, in this same gallery of Panshanger, of John of -Nassau Siegen, and his family. - -After his marriage he proceeded once more with his bride to his native -city, where they were received with every possible demonstration of -respect and affection. Sir Anthony, then, hearing that Louis XIII. -intended to have the walls of the Louvre adorned with paintings, after -the fashion of those by Rubens in the Luxembourg, went to Paris in hopes -of obtaining the order, but in this design he was frustrated, and, -disappointed and depressed, he returned to England. It was a dreary -time. His Royal and private friends were all involved in trouble and -perplexity, through the gathering of heavy clouds on the political -horizon. His friend Lord Strafford had perished on the scaffold; the -King was absent from London; the Queen had sought safety in France. -Vandyck’s spirits sank, and he gave himself up to a fatal and visionary -consolation. - -In the pursuit of the philosopher’s stone, he became a professed -alchemist, and, as it was well said, ‘the gold he had gained by his -labours fast melted away in the crucible.’ - -He would stand for hours over a hot fire, which conduced not a little to -undermine his failing health; he grew haggard and wrinkled while still -in the prime of life. The King, on his return to England, hearing of his -friend’s illness, sent his own physician to minister to the patient, -holding out, it was said, a large sum of money in the event of a cure. -But human aid was unavailing; a severe attack of gout, combined with -other maladies, proved fatal, and on the 9th December 1641, the man who -by many has been esteemed the chief of the world’s portrait-painters -breathed his last. Followed by a large retinue of friends, he was buried -in St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was but eight days before he died that a -daughter was born to him, and on the very date of his death there was an -entry in the register of St. Anne’s, Blackfriars, ‘Justiniana, daughter -of Sir Anthony Vandyck and his lady, baptized 9th December 1641.’ - -Whatever ignorance or mismanagement of money matters the great painter -had shown during his life, his last will was most praiseworthy and -considerate in all points, and he had waited until the birth of his -child to complete the same. There was not much to leave, but no one he -loved or esteemed was forgotten; wife, child, sisters, servants, were -all remembered; even the poor in the two parishes—that of his residence -and that of his burial—had a small sum dealt out to them. Sir Anthony -Vandyck’s widow married a Welsh baronet, Sir Robert Pryse, as his second -wife, but they had no children. Justiniana married Sir John Stepney of -Prendergast, Pembroke (their grandson was George Stepney, the poet), and -her second husband was Martin de Carbonell. She received a pension from -King Charles II. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 10._ - - FRANÇOIS DUQUESNOY, DETTO IL FIAMMINGO, SCULPTOR. - - _Green, red, and white slashed dress. Black cloak. White collar and - cuffs. He is sitting._ - - BORN 1594, DIED 1646. - - BY NICHOLAS POUSSIN. - - -A NATIVE of Brussels, his father was his first master, and while quite -young he found a generous patron in the Archduke Albert of Austria. This -Prince gave the youth a pension to enable him to go to Rome, and study -the art of sculpture, for which he evinced a considerable talent. But -the Duke dying when Fiammingo (as he was called at Rome) was only -twenty-five, the young artist found himself in great poverty, and -obliged to work very hard to keep the wolf from the door. In the same -straits was at that moment the afterwards celebrated painter Nicholas -Poussin, and the two students became friends and companions, sharing a -scanty but common purse. The painter and the sculptor sympathised in -their love of art, but differed in their taste of subjects. Poussin’s -tendency was for the severe, Fiammingo’s for the tender; his admiration -for the works of Albano led him to the execution of childish forms in -every imaginable attitude of grace and beauty; these were seldom of -large dimension, but he modelled the ‘Putti’ for the high altar in St. -Peter’s, the Santa Susanna in the Church of Our Lady of Loretto, near -the Trajan Column, and a colossal St. Andrew, also in St. Peter’s. -Bernini, who was evidently jealous of Fiammingo’s talent and popularity, -said he was incapable of executing anything more than a gigantic boy, -but the admirers of pure art gave the palm to Fiammingo far and away -before the mannerist Bernini. Added to his ability, the Flemish sculptor -was a conscientious and indefatigable workman. He not only produced -statues, but made careful studies in detail of the human figure, the -hands and feet in particular; but in spite of his industry he never -extricated himself from poverty. In 1646 he meditated going to France, -where doubtless his faithful friend, Nicholas Poussin, would have -befriended him, but a cruel death awaited him in Rome. He was poisoned -by his own brother, Jerome Duquesnoy, himself a sculptor, who was -jealous of Fiammingo’s increasing fame. But the murderer did not escape -vengeance; found guilty of many crimes, he was (according to the -barbarous practice of the age) burned alive at Ghent. Of a gentle, -amiable disposition and winning manners, Fiammingo was much esteemed and -respected. Poussin and Albano were among his closest friends. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 11._ - - THE WIFE OF CARLO DOLCE. - - _Red dress. Brown cap. Holds a scroll and an olive branch._ - - BY CARLO DOLCE. - - -THIS painter was born in 1616, and died 1686. His heads of Madonnas, -female saints, and Herodias, are, for the most part, portraits of his -wife or daughter. Of the latter there is a head in a Florentine palace, -crowned with bay leaves, representing Poetry, which has more depth of -colouring and expression than is generally observable in the works of -this master. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 12._ - - ELEANORA D’ESTE. - - _Blue and pink cap. White dress. Red drapery. Pearl necklace. Chain and - pendant._ - - BORN 1537, DIED 1581. - - BY PIERIN DEL VAGA. - - - -SHE was the sister of Alfonso d’Este, the second Duke of Ferrara, but is -immortalised in history and fiction, prose and verse, as the object of -Torquato Tasso’s unfortunate passion. The story of his residence at her -a brother’s Court, and at that of Urbino, where her elder sister, -Lucrezia, was Duchess, has so often been told, and the details of his -relations with the two Princesses so ill authenticated and so variously -narrated, that we do no more than allude to the fact of the affection -which subsisted between them, although by many writers it is questioned -which of the two Princesses reigned supreme in the heart of the -Laureate, who was never wearied of singing the praises of both these -noble ladies. - -This picture was bought in Italy by Emily, wife of the fifth Earl -Cowper, and given by her to her husband at the time he was occupied in -building the new picture gallery at Panshanger. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -[Illustration] - - - LIBRARY. - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LIBRARY. - - ------- - - -_No. 1._ - - EDMUND BURKE. - - _Brown Coat. White Cravat. Powder._ - - BORN 1729 N.S., DIED 1797. - - BY JACKSON _after_ REYNOLDS. - - -BORN at Dublin, the eldest of three sons, his father a solicitor in good -practice, his mother a Miss Nagle, of County Cork, a Roman Catholic, -whose family had been zealous adherents of James the Second. Edmund and -his brothers were brought up as Protestants, their father’s faith; his -only sister was educated according to her mother’s religion. Young Burke -went to school at Ballitore, about thirty miles from Dublin, under the -tutelage of one Shackleton, a Quaker, and native of Yorkshire, a good -man, and a good teacher, who endeared himself to his pupils, and of whom -Burke spoke in the highest terms of gratitude and affection, ‘who had,’ -he said, ‘not only educated his mind, but also his heart.’ While still a -schoolboy, Edmund had formed a close friendship with young Shackleton, -his master’s son, and continued to correspond with him for many years on -all subjects, classical, social, religious. In 1743 he went to Trinity -College, Dublin, where, he confesses, his studies were very desultory. -‘They proceeded more from sallies of passion than preference for sound -reason, and, like all natural appetites that are violent for a season, -soon cooled.’ He thought it a humorous consideration to reflect into how -many madnesses he had fallen during the last two years. First, the -_furor Mathematicus_, then the _furor Classicus_, the _furor -Historicus_, the _furor Poeticus_; later on he would have added to his -list the _furor Politicus_. - -Richard Shackleton, from whom he had parted with tears at Ballitore, -urges him, with tender admonitions, ‘to live according to the rules of -the Gospel.’ ‘I am desirous of doing so,’ was the answer to the friendly -little sermon, ‘but it is far easier to do so in the country than in a -town, especially in Trinity College, Dublin.’ Burke sends Richard a -poetical description of the manner in which he spends his day: how he -rises with the dawn and careers through fragrant gardens and meads, ‘mid -the promise of May, till hunger drives him home to breakfast; how he -goes down to the beach in the afternoon to sit upon the sea-wall and -watch the shipping, and the varying colours of the ocean in the glowing -sunset; and amid it all, how his thoughts travel back to the sparkling -river and pretty fir-woods of dear old Ballitore. He finds time, -however, almost every day, to spend at least three hours in the public -library, among the books, ‘the best way in the world for killing -thought.’ Assuredly far better than most methods used for that purpose. -‘I have read some history,’ he says, ‘and am endeavouring to make myself -acquainted in some degree with that of our own poor country.’ - -During his whole life Burke loved and compassionated and endeavoured to -serve his own unhappy island. His only contemporary of note at College -was the Sizar, Oliver Goldsmith, but they do not appear to have been -acquainted. In 1750, having taken his degree, Edmund went to London to -study the law in the Middle Temple; but that species of study did not -suit his taste, although he expresses his high respect for the same. He -was never called to the Bar; he preferred literature, courted the -society of authors, frequented the debating club in Covent Garden, and -was a great lover of the theatres. - -His father, who was a hard man, and had never shown him much tenderness, -was very angry at Edmund’s neglect of legal studies, and either -withdrew, or curtailed, his son’s allowance so much as to make it -difficult for him to subsist in London. He was very fond of the country, -however, and used to go on walking expeditions, and spend a great part -of his summer in picturesque villages, reading and writing all the time, -in the companionship of William Burke, his friend and namesake. He -mentions his love for wandering in a letter to Richard Shackleton, when, -after apologising for a long silence, he says, ‘I may have broken all -rules, neglected all decorums, but I have never forgot a friend whose -good head and heart have made me esteem and love him.’ It was about the -year 1756 that Edmund Burke’s marriage took place, with the daughter of -Dr. Nugent, an Irish Roman Catholic, who had settled at Bath. We hear -that she was a gentle, amiable, and well-bred woman, and a Presbyterian -by creed. In this year Burke published _A Vindication of Natural -Society_, and his immortal essay on the Sublime and the Beautiful. The -_Vindication_ was written in the form of a letter to a noble Lord by a -late noble writer. It was intended to simulate the style of Lord -Bolingbroke, and was pronounced in that respect eminently successful, so -far as to deceive many expert critics. It was a satire on the opinions -of Lord Bolingbroke, lately deceased, whose posthumous works were now -attracting great attention in the literary world. Boswell is said to -have asked Johnson in after years whether he thought the _Vindication_ -would be damaging to Burke in his political career. ‘No, sir,’ replied -the Doctor; ‘though it might perhaps be mentioned at an election.’ - -Burke himself appears to have had the same misgivings as Boswell, for, -on the eve of standing for Parliament, he thought it advisable to print -a second edition of the _Vindication_, with a preface, in which he -explained that the design of the work was ironical. When in London he -was not slow in forming friendships with all the eminent men of the day, -and amongst those with whom he became most intimate were Reynolds, -Garrick, and Samuel Johnson. He was one of the original members (as was -his father-in-law, Dr. Nugent) of the Literary Club; and so popular was -he at the Turk’s Head, that Sir John Hawkins, ‘that most unclubbable -man,’ was actually expelled from the chosen circle on account of an -attack he had made on Burke. - -In 1758 he conceived the scheme of the _Annual Register_, and proposed -it to Dodsley, the great publisher of the day, who was so much pleased -with the notion that he immediately embarked in the undertaking, and -gave Burke £100 a year to contribute the ‘Survey of Events,’ which he -continued for many years. About the same time, the young author was -introduced to the man who is known to posterity as ‘Single-speech -Hamilton,’ on account of the brilliant success of his maiden speech, -which threw into the shade such orators as Pitt (afterwards Lord -Chatham), Grenville, and Fox, who all spoke on the same occasion. Horace -Walpole met Burke at Hamilton’s house in company with Garrick, and says -of him, ‘A young Irishman who wrote a book in the style of Bolingbroke, -which has been much admired. He is a sensible man, but has not worn off -his authorism, and thinks there is nothing so charming in the world as -writers, and to be one. He will know better some day.’ - -Mr. Hamilton went to Ireland, as private secretary to the Viceroy, Lord -Halifax, and Burke accompanied him. While there he busied himself in -inquiring into the grievances and causes of discontent, especially among -the Roman Catholic portion of the community. It was owing to his -liberal-minded views on the subject of Catholic Emancipation that a -false rumour was spread that Edmund Burke had gone over to his mother’s -creed, with many other reports equally untrue. Hamilton obtained for his -companion a pension of £300 a year from the Irish Treasury, which was at -first received with gratitude, but Burke would not accept the salary -unconditionally; he must have some of his time to himself for literary -labours; in fact, he could not barter his freedom. Hamilton was -offended. He wished to bind down the noble spirit for life to his own -personal service, or, as the writer himself expresses it, ‘to -circumscribe my hopes, to give up even the possibility of liberty, to -annihilate myself for ever.’ So the pension was given up, the connection -with Hamilton at an end, and Burke returned to England. - -In 1765 Lord Rockingham replaced George Grenville as Prime Minister, and -appointed Edmund Burke his private secretary. This nomination caused -much surprise and displeasure in some quarters. The Duke of Newcastle -expostulated with the Premier, and denounced Burke as an Irish -adventurer, a Papist, a disguised Jesuit, with a false name, and what -not. Lord Rockingham put his secretary in possession of the charges -brought against him, all of which Burke denied, and answered indignantly -he would instantly vacate the post, as no possible consideration would -induce him to continue in relation with any man whose trust in him was -not entire. But Lord Rockingham had implicit trust in his noble-hearted -secretary, and would not accept his resignation; and for seventeen -years, that is, till Rockingham’s death, the friendship between these -two distinguished men was unbroken, the confidence unlimited. In -December, this same year, Burke was returned Member for the borough of -Wendover. His maiden speech, a few days after the opening of the session -in 1766, on American affairs, produced the profoundest sensation, and -Pitt (the elder) not only complimented the young Member himself, but -congratulated the Ministry on their acquisition. Dr. Johnson said, ‘No -man had ever gained more reputation on his first appearance.’ The second -and third speeches were even more successful, and it was universally -admitted that Burke’s eloquence carried the repeal of the American Stamp -Act, which measure was supported by Pitt, although in Opposition. The -Rockingham Ministry did not stand above twelve months, and made way for -what was termed the Grafton Administration, the Duke being, for a time -at least, nominal, and Lord Chatham real leader of the party. Burke -describes this Government as a piece of joinery, curiously indented and -whimsically dove-tailed; a piece of tesselated pavement, without cement, -unsafe to touch, insecure to stand on. - -In 1769 he became the possessor of The Gregories, in the parishes of -Penn and Beaconsfield, in Buckinghamshire. He thus speaks of it to -Shackleton: ‘I have made a push with all I could collect, and the aid of -my friends, to cast a little root in this country. I have bought a -house, with an estate of about 600 acres, twenty-four miles from London: -it is very pleasant, and I propose, God willing, to become a farmer in -good earnest.’ He is sure his friend will approve of the acquisition, -when he knows it was once the property of Waller the poet. There is -always a large portion of the community who consider it incumbent on -them to inquire into, and animadvert upon, their neighbours’ affairs, -more especially their finances. The world was much exercised over the -chances of Burke’s ability to defray such an expense as the purchase of -an estate; but there seems little doubt that Lord Rockingham assisted -him materially, and at his death that kind friend desired that all -Edmund Burke’s bonds should be destroyed. - -The Irishman did not belie his nationality with regard to money; it must -be confessed he was lavish, and it is said that from the day, in 1769, -when he applied to Garrick for the loan of £1000, till 1794, when he -received a pension from the Crown, he was never out of debt. But Burke’s -extravagance was far removed from selfishness; he never closed his ear -or his purse against the appeals of struggling talent or deserving -poverty, and was generous and compassionate in every relation of life. -In 1773, his only child, his ‘darling Dick,’ having left Westminster, -was entered student at Christchurch, Oxford, but he being considered too -young for College life, his father determined to send him to Auxerre to -study the French language. The youth was lodged in the house of the -Bishop of the diocese, a good prelate, who treated him with the utmost -kindness, which Richard’s father amply repaid, when, in after years, the -Bishop visited England as an exile and a pauper. Edmund Burke went to -Paris at the same time, not merely for the pleasure of making -acquaintance with the agreeable and distinguished members of society, -but for the purpose of investigating the causes of the revolutionary -movement, which was beginning by degrees to convulse the French nation. -He was presented to the Duchesse de Luxembourg, and to Madame du -Deffand, who laments that ‘the Englishman speaks French so badly, in -spite of which everybody likes him, and thinks he would be most -agreeable, if he could make himself understood’! What a strange position -for Edmund Burke; he was able, however, to follow French perfectly as a -listener, and was much delighted with hearing La Harpe’s tragedy of _Les -Barmecides_ read at the Duchess’s house. He became acquainted with the -Count de Broglie, one of the King’s confidential Ministers, and -Caraccioli, the Neapolitan Envoy, and many members of the _haute -noblesse_. Bent on weighing the balance of political opinion in Paris, -Burke did not confine his visits to the _salons_ of one faction or -another; he was a frequent guest at the house of Mademoiselle -d’Espinasse, the well-known writer of love-letters so ardent, that it -was feared they would consume the paper on which they were written! And -here he saw the man who inspired those tender epistles,—one Guibert, a -colonel in the Corsican Legion, who had lately written a book, which had -made a great noise in Paris, all the more that it had been suppressed by -the Government. Burke studied the men and their works, and drew his own -conclusions; he also, in common with all foreigners, went to Versailles, -and saw the old King, Louis Quinze, at Mass, in a pew, just above Madame -du Barry, and the Dauphin and his young bride dine in public with great -pomp: Marie Antoinette, who, ‘glittering like the morning star, full of -life, and joy, and splendour,’—that vision of beauty, indelibly stamped -on his memory, which suggested many ‘words that burn,’ and inspired many -an enthusiastic and eloquent appeal in behalf of the unfortunate French -Sovereigns. Madame du Deffand flattered herself that Burke had gone home -enamoured with the nation at large, but she was mistaken; he was never -blinded, as were so many of his countrymen, especially his own party, by -theoretical benefits of the French Revolution, but foresaw, in all their -terrible distinctness, the horrors and excesses of the impending Reign -of Terror. On his return to London, he renewed his acquaintance with all -the eminent men of the day. His friendship with Johnson and Reynolds -lasted till the death of both those loved companions; and Johnson, whose -opinions, especially on politics, were usually opposed to those of -Burke, used to say he did not grudge Edmund being the first man in the -House of Commons, for was not Edmund the first man everywhere? ‘Indeed, -he is a man, sir, that if you met him, for the first time, in the -street, when, overtaken by a drove of oxen, you both stepped aside for -five minutes’ shelter, from whom you could not part without saying, -“What an extraordinary man!”’ - -So extraordinary was Burke’s fame for eloquence, ability, and the -liberality of his views, that the important city of Bristol chose him -for their Member unsolicited. During the time he represented them, the -Bristolians, for the most part, were very proud of their brilliant M.P., -but his popularity began to wane when he opposed war, and advocated, not -only Irish free-trade, but the Catholic Relief Bill. It would appear -that constituents, for the most part, aspire to a despotic rule over the -speeches and votes of their representatives, in proportion to the -democracy of their own opinions. Now Edmund Burke was in reality what -most politicians are in name only, independent, and some words of his -that bear on this subject deserve to be engraved in golden letters: ‘He -who sits in Parliament should speak the language of truth and sincerity, -should never be ready to take up or lay down any great political -question for the convenience of the hour; his duty is to support the -public good, not to form his opinions in order to get into, or remain -in, Parliament.’ He therefore sacrificed his seat at Bristol to his love -of independence; for although his constituents, after attacking and -maligning him, offered to re-elect him, Burke went down in person to -_decline the honour_, in a speech, the eloquence of which could only be -equalled by its dignity. He was then elected for Malton, the borough for -which Lord Rockingham had originally destined him, and for which he sat -until the close of his Parliamentary career. The Gordon Riots broke out -this year, and Burke’s house was one of the first doomed to destruction, -for ‘was he not the patron and promoter of Popery?’ The authorities -provided him with a garrison of sixteen soldiers, thus saving his -dwelling in Charles Street, St. James’s, from sharing the fate of Sir -George Savile’s (who had brought in the Catholic Relief Bill),—his house -being gutted, and the whole of the furniture converted into a bonfire. -Savile was a neighbour of Sir Joshua Reynolds. - -In 1782 Lord Rockingham once more resumed the head of affairs, on the -resignation of Lord North, and Edmund Burke was appointed Paymaster of -the Forces. This had hitherto been a place of great emolument, but Burke -was not one to advocate reform in every department but his own—he who -had so lately urged economical reform in high places. He considered the -office overpaid, and cut it down, salary and profits, to the tune of -some thousands. His ‘dear Dick’ was made his father’s deputy, with a -stipend of £500 a year, and was shortly afterwards promoted to a better -post under Government. The death of Lord Rockingham broke up the party. -Burke resigned when Lord Shelburne came in, but resumed office under the -Coalition Ministry—Duke of Portland, Premier. In 1784, ‘the pilot that -weathered the storm,’ William Pitt, took the helm, and Burke retired -from official life for good; but he never slackened in his Parliamentary -labours, taking a lead in all the important business of the day, and, -above all, displaying the liveliest interest in Indian affairs. His name -is indissolubly connected with that of Warren Hastings, of whose -impeachment he was the principal mover; and during the weary -prolongation of the trial, he never rested from his attack on the -Governor-General, either by speech or writing. Suffice it to say, that, -on the opening of the trial, Edmund Burke made a speech which lasted -four days, and, at the conclusion of the proceedings, one which occupied -nine days, and was indeed a wonder, though it did not influence the -sentence, as Warren Hastings was acquitted. - -In the meantime all Burke’s preconceived notions of displeasure at the -progress of the Revolution in France were more and more increased and -confirmed by the rapid strides which were being made towards the anarchy -he had foretold. One memorable day he rose in the House to speak on the -subject which absorbed and agitated his mind. He was worked up to a -pitch of excitement; he commented, with vehemence, on the encouragement -which Fox’s eulogiums had afforded the French Revolution, and went on to -say that, in speaking his mind, he was well aware he should this day -provoke enemies, and incur the loss of friends. - -‘No! no!’ cried Fox, ‘there will be no loss of friends.’ - -Burke knew better; he knew what was in store for him. ‘But if my firm -and steady adherence to the British Constitution place me in such a -dilemma, I am ready to incur the risk, and my last words shall be, “Fly -from the French Constitution!” I have done my duty at the price of my -friend; our friendship is at an end.’ - -He was right in his prognostications; not only was there a breach -between him and Fox, who had been one of his most intimate friends, and -whom he henceforth met as a stranger, but the whole party kept aloof -from Burke. They accused him of having deserted his principles, and the -Whig newspapers were most violent in their abuse. He was annoyed and -grieved by these charges, but they did not influence his opinions or his -conduct. He sent his son to Coblenz, to communicate with the Royalist -exiles, but the mission was productive of no good. He published his -celebrated _Reflections on the French Revolution_, which converted some -readers to his way of thinking, and exasperated others; and he continued -to write pamphlet upon pamphlet on the same subject, waxing warmer and -warmer as he wrote, and urging interference on the English Government. -Miss Burney, who met him about this time, writes that ‘he is not well, -and much tormented by the state of political affairs. I wish you could -see this remarkable man when he is easy, happy, and with those whom he -cordially likes; but politics, even on his own side, must be carefully -excluded: on that theme his irritability is so terrible that it gives -immediately to his face the expression of a man who is defending himself -against murderers.’ The news of the French King’s execution produced a -profound sensation in England, and turned the current of feeling, for -the most part, in the direction to which Burke had so long, and vainly, -endeavoured to direct it. - -We must not omit to record a strange episode in his Parliamentary life -that occurred on the bringing in of the Alien Bill, which imposed -certain pains and restrictions on foreigners coming to this country. Fox -had already spoken, when Edmund Burke rose to address the House, and it -was easy to perceive he was, if possible, more excited than usual. He -thrust his hand into his bosom, and drew forth a dagger with a tragic -gesture which would have done honour to his friend David Garrick; and -flinging the shining weapon on the floor of the House, called on all -present to keep all French principles from their heads, all French -daggers from their hearts;... to beware of the intrigues of murderous -atheists, and so forth; and he concluded by adjuring his audience to -listen to his warning, by all the blessings of time and the hopes of -eternity! This extraordinary proceeding, which is remembered in history -as ‘the dagger scene,’ produced, as may be imagined, different effects -on different hearers; there were some on whom it made a deep impression, -while there were others who accused the speaker of having imagined and -rehearsed a bit of melodrame. Rehearsal there was none. The facts were -these: Burke, on his way to the House of Commons, had been shown the -dagger in question, which had been sent over from France as a pattern -for a large order to be executed in this country. - -He had announced his intention of retiring from public life as soon as -the trial of Warren Hastings should be brought to a conclusion; and when -at length it was so, he applied for the Chiltern Hundreds, and his son -Richard was elected for his vacant seat. - -Pitt proposed to confer a peerage on the man, for whom he had, in spite -of many opposite ways of thinking, a profound admiration, by the title -of Lord Beaconsfield; but a storm was fast gathering, which darkened the -remnant of Burke’s life, and hastened his end. - -His only child, his idolised Richard, was attacked with sudden illness, -to which he succumbed. This young man’s handsome face, familiar to us -from the portraits by his father’s friend Reynolds, bore a sullen and -somewhat defiant expression, which inclines us to believe the general -verdict, that he was a man of ungovernable disposition. Two years before -his death he had been sent to Ireland on business by the Catholic -Committee, and while there, as also on his return to London, he had -proved himself totally unfit for the trust reposed in him. The character -given of Richard Burke by one who knew him well was as follows: ‘He is -by far the most impudent and opinionative fellow I have ever met.’ Yet -in his parents’ fond eyes he was faultless, and few things are more -pathetic than the father’s allusion to his heavy loss. ‘The storm has -gone over me,’ he says; ‘I lie like one of those old oaks that the late -hurricane has scattered round me; I am torn up by the roots; I am alone, -I have none to meet my enemies in the gate. I live in an inverted order: -those who should have been to me as posterity are in the place of my -ancestors.’ - -Both the King and Pitt (the Premier) were anxious to provide for the -great statesman’s declining days, and a considerable grant was assigned -him by the Crown. Acceptable as the relief from financial anxiety must -have been to the man, now advancing in years and bowed down by sorrow, -Burke was much disturbed that the question of the pension had not been -brought before Parliament. The sequel proved that his scruples were well -founded, for the Duke of Bedford and Lord Lauderdale made this stipend a -plea for attacking the Government, to which they were in opposition. But -Edmund Burke, says one of his latest biographers, ‘was not slow to -reply, and, in his letter to a noble Lord, made one of the most splendid -repartees in the English language.’ - -The ex-statesman in his retirement continued to write political tracts, -some of which were not published till after his death. He found his best -and truest consolation in the exercise of that charity and benevolence -in which his soul had ever delighted. He had established at Beaconsfield -a school for the orphans of those who had perished in the French -Revolution, or the children of poor emigrants; sixty boys in number; and -it is pleasant to learn how, in the society of the little ones he was -befriending, his cheerfulness returned; how the great man, the -distinguished orator, would join in their childish sports, roll with -them on the green turf, and convulse them with laughter by his ‘wretched -puns.’ The visits of some faithful friends at The Gregories gave him -also unfeigned pleasure, and he loved to speak with, or of, his old -associates. Alluding one day to Fox, he said, ‘Ah, that is a man made to -be loved!’ When he felt his end approaching he sent affectionate -messages to his absent friends, gave calm directions respecting his -worldly affairs, and enlarged sorrowfully on the melancholy state of the -country. Fox was much affected when he heard of the death of his former -friend, and proposed that he should be buried in Westminster Abbey. But -the will provided otherwise: ‘A small tablet or flagstone, in -Beaconsfield Churchyard, with a short and simple inscription. I say -this, because I know the partiality of some of my friends; but I have -had too much of noise and compliment in my life.’ - -Burke left all he possessed to his ‘entirely loved, faithful, and -affectionate wife, with whom I have lived so happily for many years.’ -After mentioning several noblemen and gentlemen, whose friendship he -highly valued, and who all followed him to the grave, he adds, ‘If the -intimacy I have had with others has been broken off by political -difference on great questions, I hope they will forgive whatever of -general human frailty, or of my own particular infirmity, has entered -into that consideration; I heartily entreat their forgiveness.’ - -We insert this short extract, because we think this last of Burke’s -writings gives the best notion of his character, and because we consider -that the feelings which dictated these words are sublime, and their -expression beautiful. He does not forget to recommend his little -emigrants to the continued generosity and patronage of William Pitt and -other influential personages. Edmund Burke was very popular with women, -‘even,’ says the biographer from whom we have already quoted, ‘those who -were angry at his sympathy with American rebels, his unkind words about -the King (this was on the subject of economical reform), and his cruel -persecution of poor Warren Hastings.’ Meantime he contrived to captivate -such different characters as Hannah More, Elizabeth Carter, and Fanny -Burney, who met him at Sir Joshua Reynolds’s on Richmond Hill, and could -not find terms for her admiration of his noble air, commanding address, -clear, penetrating, sonorous voice, powerful, eloquent, copious -language; at home on every subject, she had never seen a more delightful -man. His features are familiar to us from the portraits of Sir Joshua -and Romney, who also painted him. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 2._ - - CHARLES JAMES FOX. - - _Blue coat. Buff waistcoat. Powder._ - - BORN 1749, DIED 1806. - - BY JACKSON _after_ REYNOLDS. - - -CHARLES JAMES FOX, third son of the first Lord Holland, was born in -1749. - -Lord Holland was the most able and unprincipled of the able and -unprincipled statesmen of the school of Walpole. In private life he -seems to have had something of the generous and sweet-tempered -disposition of his son Charles, towards whom he exhibited a boundless, -but not very judicious, affection. He spoilt him as a child. He gave him -so much money at Eton, as by example to inaugurate a new state of things -at that school, and he was constantly taking him away from his studies -at Oxford to indulge him prematurely in the dissipations of fashionable -life. He brought him into Parliament before he was of age, and -encouraged him from the first to take part in every important debate. - -Such were the early circumstances of Charles Fox. His abilities at once -showed themselves to be of the very highest order, and exactly fitted -for the field in which they were to be displayed. - -A power of close and rapid reasoning, combined with a strength and -passion which would have made even mere declamation effective, a slight -hesitation indeed in his cooler moments, but when he was excited a flow -of language almost too rapid and too copious, and altogether -inexhaustible, a miraculous quickness in perceiving at a glance the weak -points in the speech of an opponent, and a matchless dexterity in taking -advantage of them: these were the characteristics of his extraordinary -eloquence. In no age and no country could he have found an audience more -capable of appreciating his particular gifts than the House of Commons -of that period. On the other hand, no audience could have been more -ready to forgive the total absence of preparation, the occasional -repetition, the want of arrangement and the want of finish, which were -his faults, and which would have seemed very serious faults in the -Athenian Assembly or the Roman Senate. - -His private life at the outset, and long afterwards, was stained by -dissipation of every kind. He entered Parliament with no fixed -principles. He was to the last unduly carried away by the spirit of -faction. But there was a goodness as well as a manliness in his nature, -and a justness in his judgment, which were apparent from the very first, -and which more and more asserted themselves till they threw his faults -entirely into the shade. He grew steadily in character and estimation, -till, at the time of his death, he was regarded by a large circle with -an idolatrous attachment, which no other statesman has ever inspired. -More than twenty years after there were people who could not mention his -name without tears in their eyes. - -Fox at once took a prominent part in public life. He vehemently defended -the unconstitutional action of the Government against Wilkes, accepted -office, was turned out soon afterwards for speaking against the -Ministry, struck right and left for some time in an irregular manner, -and finally, at the age of six-and-twenty, settled down into steady and -vigorous Opposition to the war with our American colonists, which then -broke out. - -This threw him into association with Burke, and with the Whigs, and his -stupendous Parliamentary abilities made him, before the end of the war, -virtually the leader of the Opposition in the House of Commons. - -In 1782 Lord Rockingham came in on the question of acknowledging the -independence of America. Fox and Lord Shelburne were the Secretaries of -State. Jealousies and disputes arose between the two last, and when, in -a few months, Lord Rockingham died, open enmity was declared between -them. The King sent for Shelburne. Fox and his supporters formed a -coalition with the old war party, under Lord North. Shelburne had to -resign, and Fox, much to the disgust of the King, became master of the -situation, and with the Duke of Portland for nominal Prime Minister, -exercised complete power. All this seems to us who live in these days -very unprincipled, and though the politicians of that depraved period do -not seem to have been much shocked, the general public took a different -view, as was very shortly made evident. - -At first Fox and North seemed to carry everything before them; but -retribution was at hand. The first great measure which they brought -forward was caused by the cruel and unprincipled conduct of the servants -of the East India Company. It was no less a scheme than to vest the -whole Government of India for four years in the hands of a Commission -appointed by Parliament, or, in other words, by the Ministers who -happened at the moment to be in power. A Bill to this effect passed the -House of Commons almost without opposition, but by the personal -influence of the King it was thrown out in the House of Lords, and Fox -and the other Ministers, though they commanded an immense majority in -the House of Commons, were immediately dismissed. - -They must speedily have been restored to power, if the House of Commons -had really represented the feelings of the people; but this was not the -case, for public opinion, as I have said, had been thoroughly -scandalised by the unnatural coalition between two such completely -opposite parties as those of Fox and North. But in spite even of this -state of public opinion, it is very doubtful if the unexampled and -absolute personal ascendency which Fox had established in Parliament -would not have ensured his speedy return, if another most extraordinary -man had not appeared upon the scene. - -This was William Pitt, at this time only twenty-three years of age. Pitt -had shortly before burst forth upon the world as a full-fledged orator -of the very highest order. He now assumed the lead of the Government in -the House of Commons; fought battle after battle, still defeated, but -steadily increasing his numbers, till he at last succeeded in arriving -within one of a majority. Then, and not till then, did he dissolve -Parliament, with so overwhelming a result, that he remained for many a -long year in complete though not unchallenged possession of supreme -power. - -Fox now entered upon what was destined to be a long career of -opposition. He was the acknowledged leader of the Whig party in the -House of Commons. Supported by Burke and Sheridan and Windham, he waged -ceaseless and desperate war against the young Prime Minister. Never, -perhaps, in the whole course of our Parliamentary history was there a -brighter display of eloquence than at this period, though the speakers -were few in number, for this simple reason, that none but the very best -speakers could obtain a hearing. Pitt and Fox towered conspicuously -above these brilliant few. - -This sketch would be far too long if I were to attempt to give any -account, however brief, of the subjects of discussion during the next -few years, nor will I pretend to say which of these great men was -oftenest in the right or in the wrong. Fox, however, certainly seems to -lay himself open to the charge that whatever Pitt brought forward he -steadily and systematically opposed. - -I will now come to the beginning of the French Revolution. This -tremendous occurrence so completely filled the minds of all parties in -England as to cause every other subject to be forgotten. The first news -of the destruction of the Bastile seems to have been received on the -whole with satisfaction, for the tyranny and corruption of the _ancien -régime_ were well known, and justly reprobated in this country. But as -things went on, the upper classes began to become seriously alarmed. The -Tories, of course, led the way; and the brilliant and forcible pen of -Burke, the most richly gifted and learned statesman, though not the most -successful Parliamentary orator, among the Whigs, expressed and inflamed -the rising passion of the people. The execution of the King, and still -more that of the Queen, were received with an outburst of horror and -indignation. Then came the Reign of Terror. By this time there was a -wild panic among owners of property. The just hatred of the cruelty -which was daily being perpetrated rose to frenzy. The old national -animosity against France intensified the public fury. In short, the tide -of English feeling ran with such overwhelming force against everything -connected with the French Revolution, as to sweep away from power and -popularity every man who had in the smallest degree identified himself -with any of its principles. Fox had done this. At the outset he had -expressed his exultation, in his usual vehement manner, and afterwards, -when others had begun to stand aghast, he in the main adhered to his -opinion. Nobody inveighed more strongly against the Royal murders, and -the other atrocities, but he still clung to the belief that the ultimate -result would be good. He strongly opposed the interference of Europe, -and particularly of England, with the internal concerns of France. He -denied that there was any necessity for our going to war, and during the -war he continued on every possible occasion to urge the Government to -make peace. The opinion of later generations has, I think, on the whole, -decided that he was right, though people are still divided upon the -subject. But, be this as it may, it is impossible not to admire his -conduct during these years. His once proud and powerful party was -scattered to the winds. His ‘darling popularity,’ as Burke had formerly -called it, altogether disappeared. Friends of long standing became -estranged, and he was one who felt acutely the dissolution of -friendship. Still, however, he remained firm to his principles. Session -after session, though he stood almost alone, he continued to advocate -his views with such masterly ability as to extort the applause even of -his enemies. But at last, so hopeless did he find it to contend any more -against the stream, that, though he retained his seat, he almost ceased -to attend Parliament. - -Fox now retired to his house at St. Ann’s Hill. He had become the most -domestic of men, and in company of the only woman he ever really loved, -and whom he soon afterwards married, he gave himself up to all the -pleasures of literary ease. In spite of the dissipation of his youth, -and the activity of his maturity, he had contrived to acquire a large -amount of information, and such was the constitution of his mind, that -whatever he learned he learned thoroughly. He was an accomplished and -accurate classical scholar, well acquainted with modern languages, and -well versed in the history and the poetry of all countries and all -times. His letters at this period to his nephew, Lord Holland, throw a -very pleasing light upon his pursuits and character, and enable us to a -certain extent to realise the fascination which he possessed in his -middle age for those who were just entering upon manhood. Every subject -is treated of in turn in the easiest and most spontaneous manner; Greek -and Latin authors are critically examined, and their corresponding -passages compared, or a canto of Ariosto is discussed, or a couplet from -one of Dryden’s plays is pointed out as capable of being happily quoted -in a speech on current politics. Nor are the deeper lessons of history -forgotten, nor the public events of the moment; and all this in the -simple and familiar language of a man of the world, frequently -illustrated by similes drawn from racing or other sport. So far is there -from being any touch of pedantry or condescension, that it seems as if -he was asking his nephew’s advice upon all these matters, rather than -giving any opinion of his own. It was at this time he wrote his book -upon the reign of James II. These years in which, as a public man, he -was almost totally eclipsed, were perhaps the happiest in his life. On -the rare occasions when he was persuaded by his few remaining political -friends to appear in Parliament, and to make a speech, he left home with -the most intense reluctance, and returned there with all the pleasure of -a schoolboy at the end of the half. - -After the Peace of Amiens he went to Holland and France, and was -received everywhere with respect and admiration. - -On the renewal of the war, his Parliamentary attendances became more -frequent. He gathered round him a gradually increasing body of devoted -personal adherents, drawn largely from the new generation. In his -vigorous denunciation of the manner in which the war was conducted, he -frequently found himself supported by the most extreme members of the -war party. Many of these, like Windham, had originally been Whigs, and -the remembrance of old friendship assisted in cementing the new -alliance. There seems also to have been at this time a growing feeling -that one who divided with Pitt, and with Pitt alone, the reputation of -being the ablest and most illustrious statesman of the day, should no -longer be excluded from the service of the State. On the death, -therefore, of his great rival, in 1806, when Lord Grenville became Prime -Minister, Fox was at once, and with general applause, made Secretary for -Foreign Affairs. - -His efforts were immediately directed towards carrying out what had long -been his wish,—the making of an honourable peace. But he found that this -was no easy matter. It had suited the purpose of his political opponents -to represent him as being deficient in patriotism, and this charge has -been since repeated. There is nothing in his public speeches to justify -this odious accusation, and those passages in his private letters which -seem to lend some colour to it exult, it is quite true, in the victories -of the French arms, but only over the Austrians and the Prussians. He -writes with all the feelings of an Englishman at the news of the battle -of Trafalgar, though he cannot help lamenting that one of the effects of -that brilliant victory will be to confirm the Government in what he -considers a mistaken policy. But the chief answer to the charge which I -have mentioned may be found in his conduct, now that for the first time -he was installed in a responsible position. Notwithstanding his ardent -and avowed desire for peace, the French soon discovered that they had to -deal with a man who could be as tenacious as Pitt himself, when the real -interests and the honour of his country were concerned. Negotiations -were protracted, and he was not destined to effect his object. - -But we are within sight of the end. Fox was still in what we should now -call middle age. He had long renounced the vices and excesses of his -youth. The factiousness and the ambition of later years were also -extinct. His intellect, without losing the smallest portion of its -power, had acquired a calm serenity. Never did he stand higher with the -public, and never was a statesman surrounded by a more faithful and -admiring band of supporters. It seemed as if at last his mighty talents -were to have free scope, and that his renown as an orator was to be -equalled by his success as a ruler of men. But it was not to be. Nature -cannot be overstrained with impunity, and he had tried his constitution -very severely in his earlier days. He was in bad health when he took -office, he was soon found to be suffering from dropsy, and he sank -rapidly. He died in September 1806, attended by his wife, his nephew, -and his niece, with all the affection due to such a man. - -His vigorous mind was still unclouded, and he retained his high courage -and his sweet temper to the last. - - C. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 3._ - - CARDINAL DE RETZ. - - _Cardinal’s robes. Red skull-cap._ - - BORN 1614, DIED 1679. - - BY LE BRUN. - -JEAN FRANÇOIS PAUL DE GONDI was born at Montmirail en Brie. His father, -Emmanuel de Gondi, served as General under Louis XIII., and subsequently -became a recluse at the Oratory of Notre Dame. The family was originally -Florentine, and the first who settled in France was Albert Gondi, son of -a Tuscan banker, who was Marshal of France under Catherine of Medicis. -It was easy to trace his Southern descent in the warm blood that raced -through the veins of Jean François de Gondi. Two members of the family -had already sat on the Archiepiscopal throne of Paris; Emmanuel destined -his son to be the third, and with that view he caused him to be educated -as a priest, under the auspices of Vincent de Paul, the pious confessor -of Anne of Austria. Assuredly the pupil did not follow in the master’s -footsteps. It was said of the two men by a contemporary, ‘Il en fit un -saint, comme les Jésuites firent de Voltaire un dévot.’ No vocation in -the world could have been less fitted for the wild, worldly, and -ambitious spirit of the young acolyte,—a fact which he vainly -endeavoured to force on his father’s mind by the irregularities of his -conduct. He not only indulged in every excess, but gloried in making his -behaviour known to the world: a duellist, he had already had two hostile -meetings, he spoke openly of his _affaires d’honneur_; a man of -gallantry, he boasted of his _affaires de cœur_,—indeed, among many -others, he relates how at one time he was on the point of carrying off -his beautiful cousin, Mademoiselle de Retz; a conspirator, he had gone -so far as to plot against the life of Richelieu. He had contrived to -incur the enmity of the Minister by crossing his path, both in love and -friendship, and they hated each other cordially. When only eighteen, De -Retz had shown his predilection for secret conspiracy by writing a -panegyric on the Genoese Fiesco. But with all these warring and -tumultuous propensities, he could not shuffle off the clerical habit -which weighed so heavily on his young shoulders. He took an abrupt -resolution, made a virtue of necessity, preached brilliant sermons, -wrote fervent homilies, became remarkable for his deeds of charity, and -paid court to the higher members of the Church,—and, crowning glory, he -invited a learned Protestant to a polemical conference, and brought him -home safely into the fold of Mother Church. This conversion made such a -noise in Paris as to reach the ears of the old King, Louis XIII., then -on his deathbed, who immediately named Gondi Coadjutor to his kinsman, -the Archbishop of Paris, a post that was usually a stepping-stone to the -Archiepiscopal See itself. Gondi now preached sermons, the eloquence of -which made him the theme of conversation, more especially the very -flowery discourse which he delivered on his first appearance at Court; -but his growing popularity among the citizens of Paris, during this time -of strife between the Parliament and the Regency, made him an object of -suspicion to the Queen. He lavished enormous sums of money in largesses -to the lower classes in Paris, which caused him to become too popular -with one party not to excite the fears of the other. Being one day -reproached for his prodigality, Gondi, who always took the ancient -Romans as his models, said flippantly, ‘Why should I not be in -debt?—Cæsar at my age owed six times as much as I do.’ In the growing -struggle between the popular party and the Court, he temporised and -coquetted with both. He refused to join the cabal of ‘Les Importans’ -against Mazarin, the Prime Minister, whom he much disliked, and on the -breaking out of the revolt, on the day of the first barricades he -exerted himself to protect the Queen and her surroundings. Habited in -full pontificals, the Coadjutor mixed with the crowd, exhorted them to -respect the building of the Palais-Royal, and exposed himself so far as -to be thrown down and bruised by a stone, which was hurled at him. Yet, -when in the course of the evening he sought the Royal presence, in the -expectation of receiving thanks for his conduct, Anne’s reception was -cold and haughty. ‘Allez-vous reposer, Monsieur,’ she said, ‘vous avez -beaucoup travaillé.’ - -The slights put upon him by the Court, and a further offence given him -by the Queen, determined Gondi to co-operate with the opposite faction. -We have given a full account of the history of the Fronde in the notice -of Marshal Turenne, and shall therefore only allude to the personal -actions of Gondi, who became, if not at first the nominal leader, -assuredly the moving spirit, of the malcontents. He had expressed his -opinion some time before, that it required higher qualities to be leader -of a party faction than to be emperor of the universe, and he now -resolved to show his qualifications for that position. ‘Before noon -to-morrow,’ he said, ‘I _will_ be master of Paris.’ - -Now began that epoch of internal warfare in France, when the men of -action and strong will rose to the surface, without reference to the -honesty or morality of their characters. ‘Les troubles civils,’ says one -of the historians of the Fronde, ‘sont le règne des oiseaux de proie.’ -The Regent and her Minister well knew how much they had to fear -throughout the wars of the Fronde, throughout the ups and downs of -popularity and hatred from such men as Gondi, who became in time both -Archbishop of Paris and Cardinal, and maintained for the most part his -political ascendency until the conclusion of the civil war in 1652, when -the Court returned to Paris. He was offered to go to Rome as Ambassador, -but hesitated and demurred and procrastinated, till Anne of Austria’s -old hatred broke out afresh, and he was arrested and conveyed, without -any resistance on the part of his good Parisians, to the Château de -Vincennes. Here he was treated with much severity, and could only gain -the favour of being transported to the ancient Castle of Nantes at the -price of some concessions in ecclesiastical matters. He contrived to -escape, through an ingenious contrivance, and to evade the vigilance of -the guards during one of his daily promenades on the ramparts, though he -ran great risks while dangling to a rope, which had been thrown over the -wall for his descent. Two young pages saw him, and cried loudly to the -soldiers above, but as the Cardinal’s good star would have it, there was -a great tumult going on below on the banks of the river. A bather was -drowning, and people were shouting and calling for help in all -directions, so that the boys’ feeble voices were unheard, or confounded -with the general uproar. The Cardinal had friends awaiting his descent -with horses, and they set forth at a furious pace, intending to make -their way to Paris. But the Cardinal’s horse was scared by the report of -a pistol which De Retz himself had fired on a supposed pursuer, and the -rider fell to the ground, dislocated his shoulder, and had to ride for -many leagues in tortures of pain. After passing several nights in misery -and apprehension, hiding in barns and outhouses, under piles of hay, -half suffocated, the fugitive contrived to reach the Spanish frontier, -whence after a short sojourn he repaired to Rome. He had a very good -reception, despite the rancour of the French Cardinals, and made himself -conspicuous at the Conclave by his eloquence, which was instrumental in -securing the election of Alexander VII. This smoothed the way for his -return to France, where the King received him well; but the firm spirit -of De Retz was not broken, and he withstood to the uttermost the -endeavours, both of Louis and Mazarin, to make him resign his -Archbishopric. However, he was at length persuaded to exchange it for -the Abbey of St. Denis. The rest of his life, we are told by some of his -biographers, was passed in retirement, piety, and charitable deeds. By -some we are also told that his humility was so great that he offered to -resign the Scarlet Hat, of which he was unworthy; but other writers are -sceptical enough to doubt his good faith in this transaction, and to -whisper that while he tendered his resignation to the King, he sent -secret petitions to the Pope to refuse this offer. One thing is certain: -the Cardinal became economical, and paid to the uttermost farthing the -enormous debts which he had contracted. In his latter days he found -amusement in the compilation of his own memoirs, which are characterised -by extreme candour; and he found consolation in the society and -friendship of Madame de Sévigné. In her charming Letters this admirable -writer praises the tired man of the world for his charming conversation, -his elevation of character, and his mild and peaceable disposition. -Surely it must be acknowledged that our Frondeur had reformed! She -speaks of his constant visits. ‘Nous tâchons,’ she says, ‘d’amuser notre -bon Cardinal; Corneille lui a lu une pièce qui sera jouée dans quelque -temps, et qui fait souvenir des anciennes. Molière lui lira, samedi -Trissotin, qui est une fort plaisante chose. Despréaux lui donnera son -lutrin, et sa poétique. Voilà tout ce qu’on peut faire pour son -service.’ He died in Paris at the Hôtel Lesdiguierés in 1679. Madame de -Sévigné, writing on the subject to her daughter, says, ‘Cette mort est -encore plus funeste, que tu ne saurais le penser.’ ‘These ambiguous -words,’ observes a French writer, ‘were considered very mysterious at -the time, but the easy solution appears to be that the Cardinal had, -unknown to Madame de Grignan herself, stated or hinted at the fact that -he intended to make that lady his heir, a circumstance of which her -mother was cognisant.’ - -De Retz at one time not only aimed at superseding his enemy, Cardinal de -Mazarin, in his post at the Councils, but also in the affections of the -Queen-Regent, a project in which he was utterly foiled. Voltaire, -speaking of his Autobiography, says it is written with an air of -grandeur, an impetuosity, and an inequality of genius, which form a -perfect portrait of the man; it might be added,—with an audacious -candour, from which many writers of their own memoirs would have shrunk. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 4._ - - THOMAS HOBBES. - - _Black gown. Grizzly hair._ - - BORN 1588, DIED 1679. - - -BORN at Westport, an outlying parish of Malmesbury, of which his father -was the Vicar,—‘a man who cared not for learning, having never, as -Aubrey tells us, ‘tasted the sweetness of it.’ Thomas Hobbes’s advent -into the world was premature, in consequence of his mother’s terror, -caused by the rumours of the impending invasion of the Spanish Armada. - -One of his biographers truly remarks, ‘The philosopher was not in such a -hurry to leave as to enter the world, since he lived to attain his -ninety-second year.’ In a Latin poem, written when he was past eighty, -he terms himself, ‘Fear’s twin,’ alluding to his mother’s fright, and -says, ‘That is the reason, methinks, why I so detest my country’s foes, -being a lover of the Muses, and of peace, and pleasant friends.’ - -He began authorship while still a schoolboy at Malmesbury, by -translating the _Medea_ of Euripides into Latin verse. - -He is described as a playful boy enough, but with a spice of -contemplative melancholy, ‘who would get himself into a corner, and -learn his lessons presently.’ His chief amusements consisted in -‘catching jackdaws with cunningly-devised traps, and strolling into -booksellers’ and stationers’ shops, in order to gape at maps or charts.’ - -A generous uncle sent him to Oxford, where he was regular in his studies -and in his habits, at a time when, as he tells us in the _Leviathan_, -drinking, smoking, and gambling were the order of the day at Oxford. - -The Principal of his College, Magdalen Hall, recommended the young -student to the notice of Lord Cavendish of Hardwicke (afterwards the -first Earl of Devonshire), who appointed him tutor to his eldest son; -and thus began a friendship with that noble family which endured for -upwards of seventy years, even to the end of Hobbes’s long life. Tutor -and pupil were of the same age, nineteen years, and together they made -the grand tour of France, Germany, and Italy, reaping great advantages -from the opportunities thus afforded them. As to Hobbes, he cultivated -the society and conversation of all the men of eminence in the countries -through which they passed, ‘at a time,’ says a recent writer, ‘when the -spirit of inquiry was rife in Western Europe.’ He mastered modern -languages, and laid the foundation of friendships which stood him in -good stead in after life. On his return he devoted himself more than -ever to the study of the Classics, translating and commenting on the -Greek and Latin poets of antiquity, so that his works began to attract -considerable attention. He resided with the Cavendish family, both in -the country and in London, and greatly utilised the resources of the -library at Chatsworth; while in London he frequented the society of such -men as Lord Bacon, Ben Jonson, Lord Falkland, Herbert of Cherbury, and -others. - -King James I., who was a match-maker, brought about a marriage between -young Lord Cavendish (Hobbes’s pupil) and the only daughter of his -favourite, Lord Bruce of Kinloss, in Scotland. The King gave her a good -portion, and induced Lord Devonshire to make a handsome settlement on -her; but the excellent qualities of this remarkable woman would have -made Christian Bruce a desirable alliance for any family in England, -even had she not been so well endowed. She was a competent and superior -lady, as her after life proved. But heavy clouds were gathering over the -house of Cavendish. In 1626 died William, first Earl of Devonshire, son -of the celebrated Bess of Hardwicke, and in 1628 his son, the second -Earl. Hobbes mourned them both sincerely, but especially the last -mentioned, his dear lord, friend, and pupil; in a letter to whose son -and successor, after speaking in the highest terms of the deceased, and -enumerating his many virtues and endowments, he goes on to say, ‘What he -took in by study, he by judgment digested, and turned into wisdom and -ability, wherewith to benefit his country.’ - -This was in every respect a severe loss to Hobbes. The establishment at -Chatsworth was broken up, and the widowed Countess was left in great -pecuniary difficulties. Her son (who was of tender age) had his estates -charged with thirty lawsuits, ‘which, by the cunning of her adversaries, -were made as perplexed as possible; yet she so managed, with diligence -and resolution, as to go through them all with satisfaction.’ - -One day King Charles said jestingly to her, ‘Madam, you have all my -judges at your disposal.’ - -In 1628, Hobbes published his translation of Thucydides, which attracted -great attention, and brought down on the author many severe attacks. In -an opening dissertation on the life and works of the Greek historian, -Hobbes endeavoured, by the example of the Athenian, to warn his -countrymen against the evils of democracy, at a moment when political -strife was raging and the Monarchy in danger. For Hobbes was a zealous -Royalist, and believed that the cause of the King was in essentials the -cause of law and order. Thrown for a while on his own resources, he -accepted the post of travelling tutor to the son of a country gentleman, -with whom he went on the Continent, residing chiefly at Paris, where he -took up mathematics as a new study. It was not long, however, before the -widowed Countess of Devonshire recalled the friend of her father-in-law, -the tutor of her husband, to occupy the same position in the family, and -superintend the education of her sons, the young Earl and her beloved -Charles, the gallant soldier who closed his short and noble career by -dying for his King on the field of Gainsborough. - -In 1634 old memories were recalled and old habits resumed by Hobbes -taking his youthful charge over very much the same ground as he had -travelled with his first pupil some years before, ‘making the longest -stay in Paris for all the politer parts of breeding,’ having during his -sojourn in Italy inspired the admiration and gained the friendship of -Cosimo de Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany, and paid a visit at Pisa to the -illustrious Galileo,—‘for I also,’ says Hobbes of himself, ‘am now -numbered among the philosophers.’ - -In Paris, where Richelieu was in the zenith of his power, and had just -founded the Academy, Hobbes fraternised, as was his wont, with all the -learned men, and was on the most intimate terms with every one in any -way remarkable for culture, whether in literature, science, or -philosophy. In 1637 Lord Devonshire with his governor went back to -England, where he found that his mother had taken advantage of his -absence to restore order into his estates, which she now gave up to him, -free and unencumbered of debt, and his beautiful homes well furnished to -receive him. - -England was in a most perturbed state on the travellers’ return. -Hampden’s trial, the insurrection of the Scots, the violence of -Parliament, all presaged the impending downfall of the Monarchy. -Hobbes’s natural bias, as we have already said in a former page, was in -favour of the Royal cause, a sentiment which was naturally fostered by -the Cavendishes, who were one and all zealous Royalists; their hearts, -lives, and fortunes, were ever at the service of the Throne. And so it -came to pass that our philosopher raised his voice and wielded his pen -in support of the King, until, as the saying goes, the country was too -hot to hold him, and he fled. He thus speaks of his own reasons for -taking this step:— - -‘On the meeting of the second Parliament, when they proceeded fiercely -against those who had written or preached in defence of regal power, Mr. -Hobbes, doubting how they would use him, went over into France, the -first of all that fled, and there continued eleven years.’ Here he made -a short friendship and quicker quarrel with the celebrated Des Cartes; -here, when once brought to the brink of the grave, whatever his -religious opinions were, he resisted the endeavours of an Italian friend -to gain him over to the Roman Catholic faith; here, his health -re-established, he published manifold works,—philosophical, theological, -and polemical,—which attracted great attention, and his fame spread so -far and wide that it was said people came from great distances even to -gaze on the portrait of Mr. Thomas Hobbes. - -Public favour was very much divided, and some of those who could not -deny his eloquence and brilliancy of style inveighed against the -heterodoxy of his tenets. While in Paris, he gave instructions in -different branches of learning, especially mathematics, to the Prince of -Wales, afterwards Charles II., who was then in exile; and his -intercourse with the Prince, and the intimacy which he formed with many -of the English Royalists then residing in Paris, helped to foster -Hobbes’s hatred of the popular party in England. - -John Evelyn, in his Diary, says, ‘I went to see Mr. Hobbes, the great -philosopher of Malmesbury, at Paris, with whom I had been much -acquainted. From his window we saw the whole procession and glorious -cavalcade of the young French monarch, Lewis XIV., passing to -Parliament, when first he took the kingly government upon him, he being -fourteen years of age, and out of the Queen’s pupilage. The King’s -aydes, the Queen-Mother, and the King’s light horse all in rich habits, -with trumpets, in blue velvet and gold; the Swiss in black velvet -toques, headed by two gallant cavaliers in habits of scarlet satin, -after their country fashion, which is very fantastick. - -The Kinge himself looked like a young Apollo. He was mounted on an -Isabella barb, with a houssing of crosses of the Order of the Holy -Ghost, and _semée fleurs-de-lys_, stiffly covered with rich embroidery. -He went almost the whole way with his hat in his hand, saluting the -ladys and acclamators, who had filled the windows with their beauty, and -the aire with “Vive le Roy!”’ - -In 1651 Hobbes wrote the book so indissolubly connected with his name, -_Leviathan_. When this work was first circulated in Paris, he found -himself the object of aversion to every class. To readers of every way -of thinking, there were passages at which to cavil and take objection. -Indeed, Hobbes was warned that from the priesthood his life was in -danger; and he once more sought safety in flight. He returned to -England, where he published the obnoxious volume, and took up his abode -in London for some time, in Fetter Lane, made his submission to the -Council of State, and busied himself with literary labours, English and -Latin. The winter of 1659 he spent with his friends at Chatsworth, and -in 1660 came up to London with them to Little Salisbury House. One day, -soon after the Restoration, the King was passing through the Strand, -when he perceived his old master standing at the gate of Lord -Devonshire’s house. The Royal coach was stopped, Charles doffed his hat -most graciously, and inquired after Mr. Hobbes’s health, who was -summoned to the Palace before a week was over, and found himself sitting -for his portrait by Royal command. We are told that the king of limners, -Mr. Cooper, was much delighted with Mr. Hobbes’s pleasant conversation, -and that his Majesty delighted in his wit and repartees. The Merry -Monarch’s courtiers would ‘bayte’ Mr. Hobbes, so much so that when he -appeared the King would often cry, ‘Here comes the bear to be bayted.’ -But the philosopher knew how to take his own part, and his answers were -always full of wit and drollery, but usually evasive, from fear of -giving offence. The King granted him an annual pension of £100 a year, -but refused his petition of a grant of land to found a free school at -Malmesbury. - -He continued his controversial writings, which brought down upon him -attacks from all quarters. The publication of his works was prohibited -in England, which determined him to bring out a complete edition of them -at Amsterdam. The cry against him continued, and an undergraduate at -Cambridge venturing to support some of his most daring theories, was -summarily expelled the University, while Adam Hood, who had affixed a -panegyric on the philosopher to the commencement of the Antiquities of -Oxford, was compelled to suppress half his compliments. Hobbes retired -into the country, translated Homer into English, wrote the -_Philosophical Decameron_, and the _Civil Wars in England_, which he -dedicated to the King, with a petition to be allowed to publish it. - -Charles was much displeased with the book, and gave him a flat denial. -During the panic which was caused by the plague and fire of London, a -Bill was brought into Parliament for the suppression of all atheistical -writings, and a committee formed to inquire into any work suspected of -promulgating such doctrines. Public attention was directed towards -_Leviathan_, and many people believed that the greater number of the -Bishops would willingly have roasted the old philosopher alive; at all -events, Hobbes was much alarmed, being in terror of the whole Bench, -more especially of the Bishop of Ely, whom he had offended. He -accordingly burned a great portion of his papers, and took his departure -for Chatsworth. - -It was well for Hobbes, that, disappointed and thwarted in many ways, he -had so peaceful and beautiful a haven wherein to anchor. Lord Devonshire -allowed his old tutor to live under his roof in ease and plenty, -claiming no service of any kind in return for so much hospitality. -Neither the Earl nor his wife subscribed in any way to Hobbes’s -opinions, but often expressed their abhorrence of his principles, both -in politics and religion, sometimes avoiding mention of his name, or -excusing him in some measure by saying he was a humorist, and there was -no accounting for him. - -But they were uniformly kind to the old man, in spite of it all. Hobbes -divided his time and thoughts between attention to his health and to his -studies. The morning he dedicated to the first consideration—climbing -the nearest hill as soon as he got up; or, if the weather were bad, -taking hard exercise in the house as soon as he had finished his -breakfast,—after which meal he would make a circuit of the apartments, -and visit my lord, my lady, the children, and any distinguished -strangers that might be there, conversing for a short time with all of -them. - -Towards the end of his life he read few books, preferring, he said, ‘to -digest what he had already fed upon;’ ‘besides,’ he remarked, laughing, -‘if I were to read as much as most men do, I should be as ignorant as -they.’ In company he was free in discourse, but could not brook -contradiction, then he was short and peevish; indeed it was usual, on -admitting strangers, to warn them not to vex the old man by differing -from him in argument. Hobbes, by his own testimony, was of a timid -nature. Kennet, the biographer of the Cavendishes, from whose amusing -volume we have drawn largely, says, ‘It is not trampling on the ashes of -the late Mr. Hobbes to say he was a coward. He was constantly under -apprehension of messengers to arrest him, and that they would enter -Chatsworth or Hardwicke by force, and compel Lord Devonshire to give him -up.’ - -Under the pressure of these fears he wrote an Apology for himself and -his writings, in which he affirmed that the doctrines at which exception -had been taken were not so much his opinions as his suppositions, a -delicate distinction enough. In his latter days Hobbes made an open -profession of religion, and frequented service in the chapel, often -partaking of the Holy Communion. If any one in conversation questioned -his belief, he would invariably allude to these practices, and refer the -speaker to the chaplain, who would bear testimony to his orthodoxy. Some -people thought this chapel-going was the result of his wish to conform -to the rules of the household, as he never went to a parish church, and -always turned his back on the sermon, ‘for,’ said he, ‘they can teach me -nothing that I do not know.’ He had a perfect terror of being left to -himself in an empty house, and would always accompany the family from -Chatsworth to Hardwicke and back, however weak and ill he might be. On -the last occasion he journeyed to Hardwicke on a feather bed in a coach, -and the exertion at so advanced an age hastened his death. He could not -endure the thought of dying, and had a new coat made when on his -deathbed, which, he hoped, would last him three years, and then he would -have another. He questioned the physician at last whether his disease -were curable, and on being told he might hope for alleviation, but no -cure—a fact which his science and philosophy might surely have told him -at ninety-two years of age—he said, ‘Then I hope I shall find a hole to -creep out of the world.’ - -They were his last words, and were somewhat ambiguous, as ‘Hardwicke -Hall, more glass than wall,’ could not well be described as a ‘hole,’ -with its lordly gallery, its noble staircase, and its historical -memories of Mary Queen of Scots, and Arabella Stuart. Many of Hobbes’s -most remarkable writings are preserved there in manuscript. - -Our philosopher upheld the expediency of making use of an evil -instrument in an emergency, and said, ‘If I had fallen into a well, and -the devil let down his leg, I would willingly lay hold of his cloven -foot to haul myself up by.’ He amused himself by making his friends -write provisional epitaphs for him, only one of which satisfied -him,—‘This is the true philosopher’s stone.’ Hobbes continued studying -and translating to the end of his life; but Pope considered his -rendering of the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ ‘too mean for criticism.’ -Although not very strong in youth, Hobbes enjoyed excellent health on -gaining middle age. He was six feet high, of a fresh and ruddy -complexion, yellowish moustache, which turned up naturally after the -Cavalier fashion; with a tip, or ‘King Charles,’ under his lip, being -otherwise close shaven. He did not affect to look severe, considering -‘heaviness of countenance no sign of God’s favour, and a cheerful, -charitable, upright behaviour a better sign of religion than the zealous -maintaining of controverted opinions.’ He had always a book of ‘Prick -Songs’ lying on the table, and at night, when every one in the house was -asleep, he would sing aloud,—not because he had a good voice, but for -the benefit of his lungs. Thomas Hobbes appears to have been too much of -a philosopher to have fallen at any time under the spell of beauty; at -least we can find no mention in his _Memoirs_ of even a passing -subjugation to female charms. Lord Clarendon speaks of him as ‘one of -the most ancient acquaintance I have in the world, whom I have ever -esteemed, not only for his eminent parts of learning, but as a man of -probity, and one whose life has been free from scandal.’ - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 5._ - - ABRAHAM COWLEY. - - _Dark dress, long flowing hair._ - - BORN 1618, DIED 1667. - - BY MRS. BEALE. - - -THE posthumous son of a small London tradesman, his mother, although in -straitened circumstances, resolved to give her boy the best education in -her power; and she was rewarded by living to see him rise to eminence -and distinction. Little Abraham one day, sitting in the window seat in -his mother’s home, found a volume of Spenser’s _Faëry Queen_ lying -there. He opened the book, and was soon absorbed in the contents, -‘sucking the sweet honey of those inspired lines.’ He read, and re-read, -and, as Dr. Johnson tersely expresses it, became ‘irrecoverably a poet.’ - -His mother contrived to get him a nomination on the foundation at -Westminster School, where he soon became remarkable for his powers of -versification. At ten years old he wrote the _Tragical History of -Pyramus and Thisbe_, and soon afterwards _Constantia and Philetus_, and -before he was fifteen a volume of his poems was actually published. In -1636 he went to the University of Cambridge, where, without neglecting -his studies, he continued his poetical pursuits, and wrote a play called -_Love’s Riddle_, which he dedicated to Sir Kenelm Digby (the fashionable -patron of the day), as also a Latin comedy, inscribed to the Master of -his College. Cowley was expelled from Cambridge on account of his -adherence to the King’s party, and took shelter at St. John’s College, -Oxford. A satire which he wrote about this time, entitled _The Puritan -and the Papist_, gained him the favour of the Royalists, and especially -of Lord Falkland, who made him known and welcomed at Court. When Queen -Henrietta Maria went to France, Cowley followed her fortunes, and, -becoming Secretary to Lord Jermyn, was employed in correspondence of the -most confidential nature, such as communications between the Royalists -in England and those in France, and private letters between King Charles -I. and his Queen. He was indefatigable in his labours, and would cipher -and decipher far into the night, yet finding time for poetical -compositions in the midst of such arduous work. He produced an amorous -drama, entitled _The Mistress_, for he considered that no man was worthy -of the name of poet till he had paid his tribute to Love. - -In 1656 he went over on a mission to England, to inquire and report on -the political state of affairs; but the Parliamentarians were on his -track, and he was thrown into prison, and only set free on the payment -of a considerable ransom, which was generously advanced by a friend. He -became a Doctor of Medicine at Oxford, but does not appear to have -practised in that capacity, though in the early days of the Royal -Society, just founded at Oxford, and not yet translated to London, the -poet figured as ‘Dr. Cowley.’ He made a pilgrimage to Kent, and in the -fair fields of ‘England’s garden’ he studied botany, and gathered -materials which led to the composition of several Latin poems treating -of trees, herbs, and flowers, and their peculiar qualities. - -Cowley was destined to great mortification and disappointment at the -Restoration, being scarcely noticed by the King. It is supposed that a -faction had been formed against him, by which his hopes of obtaining the -Mastership of the Savoy, that had been promised him both by Charles II. -and his father before him, were frustrated. The ill success of his -comedy, _The Guardian_, when put upon the stage, was another source of -mortification. There was a spiteful rumour set about, that the drama was -intended as a satire on the Royalists, and the author was so -discomfited, hearing of its failure, that Dryden said he did not receive -the news with the calmness becoming so great a man. He wrote an Ode, in -which he designated himself as the ‘melancholy Cowley,’ and this -production brought down upon him a host of squibs and lampoons, on the -dejected ‘Savoy-missing Cowley,’ and the like. Disgusted with the outer -world, our poet languished for the retirement of a country life, and -settled at Chertsey, in Surrey. His friends the Earls of Arlington and -St. Albans (whom he had served when Lord Jermyn) procured him an office -which brought in a certain salary, ‘but,’ says Johnson, ‘he did not live -long to enjoy the pleasure, or suffer the weariness, of solitude.’ - -He died at Chertsey in 1667. He was the author of numerous works, which -are little read at the present day, although the name of Abraham Cowley -ranks high in literature. He was at the University with Milton, but the -two poets differed as much in the quality of their writings as in the -bias of their political views. The Duke of Buckingham, on hearing the -news of Cowley’s death, said he had not left behind him as honest a man -in England. He erected a monument to the poet’s memory in Westminster -Abbey. We find in John Evelyn’s Diary: ‘I heard the sad news of the -death of Abraham Cowley, that incomparable poet and virtuous man, Aug. -1667.—Went to Cowley’s funerall, whose corpse lay at Wallingford House, -and was thence conveyed to Westminster Abbey in a hearse with six -horses, and all decency. Neere a hundred coaches of noblemen and persons -of qualitie following; among these all the witts of the towne, divers -bishops and cleargymen. He was interred neere Geoffrey Chaucer and -Spenser. A goodly monument is since erected to his memorie.’ Sir William -Cowper was much attached to Cowley, and had his portrait painted -especially for his own gallery. - - - ------------------ - -_No. 6._ - - JAMES NORTHCOTE, R.A. - - _Dark dress. White hair._ - - BORN 1746, DIED 1831. - - BY HIMSELF. - - -THE son of a watchmaker, he was born at Plymouth, and, like his -illustrious fellow-townsman, showed an early enthusiasm for art, and a -distaste for any other occupation. But his father was prudent, and bound -his son apprentice to himself, allowing him no money, and discouraging -in every possible manner the boy’s artistic tendencies. They were too -strong to be repressed. Young James gave all his spare time to the study -of drawing, and, having scraped together five guineas, he doubled the -sum by the sale of a print of the new assembly rooms and bathing-place -at Plymouth, from one of his own Indian ink sketches. Armed with this -large fortune, he plotted a secret journey to London with his elder -brother Samuel; his only confidants being Dr. Mudge and a Mr. Tolcher, -both Plymouth men, and friends of Sir Joshua Reynolds, the newly-elected -President of the Royal Academy, to whom they gave James letters of -introduction. The brothers set forth on their pilgrimage one fine May -morning, being Whit-Sunday; and the younger tells us that when they -arrived on the hill and looked homewards, Samuel felt some regret—James -nothing but satisfaction. - -The travellers performed the whole of the journey on foot, with a rare -lift on the top of a stage-coach; sleeping wherever they could: in small -ale-houses, by the wayside, sometimes in haylofts, and even under -hedgerows. The new President received the young aspirant with the -greatest kindness, and installed him in his own house. Samuel Northcote -soon returned home, but James wrote to a friend in Devonshire, in -raptures with his new domicile. ‘The house,’ he says, ‘is to me a -paradise; all the family behave with the greatest kindness, especially -Sir Joshua’s two pupils. Miss Reynolds has promised to show me her -paintings, for she paints very fine, both history and portraits. Sir -Joshua is so much occupied that I seldom see him; but, when I find him -at liberty, I will ask his advice for future guidance, and whether there -will be any chance of my eventually gaining a subsistence in London, by -portrait-painting.’ The master soon found out that his new pupil was -earnest and industrious, and it was arranged that Northcote should -remain in the President’s service for five years. The hall in which he -worked was adjacent to his master’s sitting-room, and he was both amused -and edified by overhearing the conversations of such men as Burke, -Johnson, Garrick, etc. He worked diligently, copying Sir Joshua’s -pictures, studying the human form—drapery, etc.,—persuading the -housemaids to sit to him, and working as a student at the Academy. He -tells an amusing incident of Reynolds’s favourite macaw, which had a -violent hatred for one of the maid-servants in the house, whom Northcote -had painted. It flew furiously at the portrait, pecking the face with -its beak. We might be inclined to suspect the artist of inventing this -implied compliment to his own handiwork, were we not also assured that -Sir Joshua tried the experiment of putting the portrait in view of the -bird, who invariably swooped down on the painted enemy. The maid’s -crime, we believe, consisted in cleaning out the cage. - -Northcote began to exhibit on his own account in 1774, and became -eventually A.R.A. and R.A. Samuel Northcote met Sir Joshua on one of his -visits to Plymouth, at the house of their common friend, Dr. Mudge, and -writes to his brother to tell him the President had spoken of him in -very satisfactory terms. When the five years’ apprenticeship was nearly -over, Northcote took leave of his master. He gives rather a tedious -account of the interview, in which he announced his determination, but -ends the paragraph by saying ‘it was of course impossible to leave a -house, where he had received so much kindness, without regret; it is a -melancholy reflection, even at this moment, when one considers the -ravages a few short years have made in that unparalleled society which -shone at his table, now all gone.’ - -On leaving London, our painter went into Devonshire, made some money by -his portraits, and then proceeded to Italy alone, ignorant, as he was, -of one word of the language. He spent his time in copying the Italian -masters, more especially the works of Titian; returned from Rome to -England _via_ Flanders, and again had recourse to portrait-painting, -first in his native county, and afterwards in London, where he settled. -About this time the scheme for the Boydell Shakespeare Gallery was -started, making a great sensation, and Northcote gained much κυδος for -his contributions to that work, more especially ‘The Princes in the -Tower,’ which furnished Chantry with the idea for his beautiful and -touching monument in Lichfield Cathedral. Northcote took great delight -in this work, as his bias had always led him to historical and fancy -subjects. His sacred pictures were not much admired, and his plagiarism -of Hogarth, which was a species of parody on the great works of that -great man, gained him no popularity. An answer of his amused Sir Joshua -much, on one occasion. When the President asked him how it chanced that -the Prince of Wales so often mentioned him, ‘I was not aware you even -knew him?’ ‘Well,’ replied James, ‘I know very little of him, or he of -me; it is only his bragging way.’ - -His conversations were sufficiently esteemed to be recorded by Hazlitt, -his friend and constant companion. By nature Northcote was intelligent, -energetic, and industrious; he triumphed over the disadvantages of an -imperfect education, and knew how to benefit by his opportunities. We -have never read his Life of Sir Joshua, but by the numerous extracts -which Leslie and Taylor give us, it would appear he was scarcely a -worthy biographer of so great a man. He resided for nearly half a -century in Argyll Street, London, his sister keeping his house, and died -there in his eighty-sixth year, leaving a good fortune, the product of -his labours. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 7._ - - SIR WILLIAM COWPER, FIRST BARONET. - - _Black dress. White collar. Pointed beard. Moustaches._ - - BORN 1582, DIED 1664. - - BY CORNELIUS JANSEN. - - -DESCENDED from Robert Cowper, who, in the reign of Henry V., in -consideration of his good services, received the sum of _sixpence a day_ -for life out of the King’s rents in the county of North Hants. William -Cowper, in the reign of Henry VIII., married Margaret, daughter of -Thomas Spencer, of St. Peter’s, Cornhill, and this lady’s maiden name -has been perpetuated in the Cowper family to the present day. - -Sir William, of whom we are treating, was grandson of the above, and -eldest surviving son of John Cowper and Elizabeth Ironside of Lincoln, -his wife, who had five sons and four daughters. William succeeded his -father, and was seated at Ratling Court, in Kent. He was created a -Baronet of Nova Scotia, afterwards of England, and subsequently knighted -by King Charles I. at Theobalds. He was also appointed Collector of -Imposts on strangers in the Port of London; and when the civil war -began, being a zealous Royalist, he was imprisoned in Ely House, -Holborn, together with his eldest son. But, says Collins, Sir William -outlived all his troubles, and went to dwell at his castle at Hertford, -where he gained the hearts of his neighbours by the cordiality of his -manners and his generous hospitality, while his name was beloved in the -country round for the Christian acts of charity and kindness in which he -took delight. Neither was it the formal dispensation of alms alone, for -Sir William loved to visit and comfort his poorer neighbours in their -own dwellings. He married Martha, daughter of John Masters, of East -Langdon, county Kent, and sister to Sir Edward Masters, Knight, by whom -he had six sons and three daughters. Sir William was buried in the -cloister of St. Michael’s, Cornhill, beside his parents, who lie there -beneath ‘a goodly monument.’ - -Cornelius Jansen, who painted Sir William’s portrait, and that of his -son John, was a well-known Flemish painter, who resided for many years -in London, and afterwards in Kent, near Ratling Court, where many -gentlemen in the neighbourhood sat to him. - - - ------------------ - - -_No. 8._ - - JOHN COWPER. - - _Black dress. White shirt. Long brown hair._ - - BY CORNELIUS JANSEN. - - -HE was the eldest son of Sir William Cowper, first Baronet, by the -sister of Sir Edward Masters, Knight. He was entered at Lincoln’s Inn as -a law student, and married Martha, daughter of John Hewkley of London, -merchant, by whom he had one son, William, who succeeded his -grandfather, and a daughter, who died young. John Cowper was a staunch -Royalist, and shared his father’s captivity on that account. He died -during his imprisonment. The following letter, addressed to him, in the -year 1634, when on the point of starting for his travels, appears to us -worthy of insertion, from the manliness and rectitude of its counsels, -enhanced by the quaint diction which marked the period:— - - _Feb. 25, 1634._—A remembrance to my Son, John Cowper, at his - going towards y^e Parts beyond y^e Seas. - - You must remember how, that from your Birth to this day, I have - taken care for your Education. And you have hitherto been within - my Eye, and under Tutors, and Governours, and that now, You, - alone, Launch forth into y^e World by your Self, to be steered - and governed. Many Storms, and Rubbs, many fair and pleasing - Baits, shall you meet withal, Company most infectious and - dangerous, so that your Cheif Safety must be y^e Protection of - God Almighty, whom you must daily importune to direct your - wayes, as hitherto I doubt not but you have done, Else your - Carriage and course of Life had not been so commendable. - - If this Golden time of your Youth be spent unprofitably, y^e - whole Harvest of your Life will be Weeds: if well husbanded, it - will yeild you a profitable return in y^e whole Course of your - Life. - - The time you remain there I would have Spent as followeth,— - - 1. Dayly Praying to Almighty God for his Blessing on you. - - 2. To endeavour to attain y^e French and Italian Tongues. - - 3. To mend your Writing and learn Arithmetick. - - As for Horsemanship, and other qualities of a Gentleman, a - smatch would doe well. - - And having attained to knowledge, if you doe not alwayes - remember, both in discourse and Pashion, not to be transported - with hast, But to Think before What you intend to speak, and - then treatably to deliver it, with a distinct and Audable - Voice, all your labor and pains is Lost. For altho you have - indifferently well reformed it, yet it is Defective, and care - yet may Perfect you in your speech. - - Your Loving Father, careful of your Good, - W. COWPER. - - To my Son, John Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - SIR WILLIAM COWPER, SECOND BARONET. - - _Light brown coat. White cravat._ - - BY SIR PETER LELY. - - - THE son of John Cowper, by Martha Hewkley, succeeded to the baronetcy - and estates on the death of his grandfather, served in the last two - Parliaments of Charles II., as Member for Hertford; and, in 1680, - presented reasons (with many other Members of both Houses) for the - indictment of James, Duke of York, for not coming to church. After the - Revolution, he again sat for Hertford in three different Parliaments. - His wife was Sarah, daughter of Sir Samuel Holled, by whom he left two - sons,—William, first Earl Cowper, Lord Chancellor, and Spencer. - - - ------------------ - - _No. 10._ - - SPENCER COWPER. - - _Tawny coat. Loose cravat._ - - DIED 1728. - - - HE was the second son of Sir William Cowper, second Baronet, by the - daughter of Sir Samuel Holled, consequently the brother of William, - afterwards the first Lord Cowper; and we have alluded, in the life of - the Chancellor, to the deep attachment which subsisted between these - two brothers. They were educated at the same school, selected the same - profession, and, when travelling the same Circuit, almost invariably - inhabited the same lodgings. - - Sir William Cowper and his eldest son and namesake had both been - returned in 1695 for Hertford, after a sharp contest, for the Tory - element, though in the minority, was strong in that borough. Among the - most zealous of their supporters was one Stout, a Quaker by creed, a - maltster by trade; and he had been most instrumental in furthering the - election of father and son. At all events, so thought Sir William, who - did not discontinue his friendly relations with the widow and only - daughter of Samuel Stout after the good Quaker’s death. The two ladies - were frequently invited to Sir William’s London house in Hatton - Garden, and the visit occasionally returned at Mrs. Stout’s residence - in the town of Hertford. Moreover, Mistress Sarah, to whom her father - had left a good fortune, employed Spencer Cowper as her man of - business, and consulted him in all her financial concerns. - Unfortunately it soon became painfully evident to all concerned that - this beautiful, imaginative, and essentially excitable girl had formed - a deep attachment for the young lawyer, already the husband of another - woman. - - ‘But he, like an honest man,’ says Lord Macaulay, ‘took no advantage - of her unhappy state of mind.’ A frightful catastrophe, however, was - impending. On the 14th March 1699, the day after the opening of the - Spring Assizes, the town and neighbourhood of Hertford were thrown - into a state of excitement and consternation by the news that the body - of Sarah Stout had been found in the waters of the Priory river, which - flows through that town. Suspicion fell on Spencer Cowper, on the poor - plea that he was the last reported to have been in her company; but - his defence was so clear and satisfactory on the inquest, that a - verdict of suicide while in a state of temporary insanity was - recorded. William Cowper was not attending the Assizes, his - Parliamentary duties detaining him in London, but Spencer finished the - Circuit, in company with the judges, heavy-hearted indeed at the sad - fate of his pretty friend, but with no misgiving on his own account. - He little dreamed of the mischief which was hatching by the political - adversaries of the Cowper interest. A rumour was carefully promulgated - that Spencer had presumed on his intimacy with the fair Quaker, and - that Sarah had drowned herself to conceal her disgrace. But this - charge was proved to be unfounded. The next step taken by those who - wished to render the name of Cowper obnoxious in Hertford, was to - revive the cry of ‘Murder’ against Spencer, on the plea that the - position in which the body had been found precluded the possibility of - the girl having thrown herself into the water. Two ‘accomplices’ were - carefully ferreted out, in the persons of two attorneys, who had come - down to Hertford the day before the sad event; but these gentlemen - were left at large on bail, while the man, whose father and brother at - that moment represented Hertford, was thrown into prison for months, - to await the Summer Assizes. - - The distress of his parents, and of the brother who dearly loved him, - may be well imagined, more especially as they were keenly alive to all - the adverse influences which were at work. When the eventful day of - the trial at length arrived, the town of Hertford—it might wellnigh be - said the whole of England,—was divided in favour of the Cowpers and - the Stouts; for so unwilling were the Quakers to let the imputation of - suicide rest on the memory of one of their members, that they most - earnestly desired to shift the blame on the young barrister, or, as he - afterwards said at his trial, to risk bringing three innocent men to - the gallows. We have good authority for affirming that the most - ignorant and densest of judges, Baron Hatsel by name, sat on the bench - that day, and that the prosecution was remarkable for the malignity - with which it was conducted. Their winning card, as they believed, was - the statement that the position in which the corpse had been found - floating, proved that the girl must have been murdered before she had - been thrown into the water. Medical evidence was brought forward by - the prosecution in support of this theory, as also that of two or - three sailors, who were put into the box. On the side of the defendant - appeared names which still live in medical annals,—William Cowper - (although no kinsman of his namesake), the most celebrated anatomist - then in England, and Samuel Garth, the great London physician and - rival of Hans Sloane. After what Macaulay terms ‘the superstitious - testimony of the forecastle,’ Baron Hatsel asked Dr. Garth what he - could say in reply. ‘My Lord,’ answered the physician drily, ‘I say - they are mistaken. I could find seamen in abundance who would swear - that they have known whistling raise the wind.’ - - This charge was disposed of; the body had drifted down to the - mill-dam, where it was discovered entangled and supported by stakes, - only a portion of the petticoat being visible. But the evidence of a - maid-servant of Mistress Stout produced great excitement in Court. She - told how the young barrister had arrived at the house of her mistress - the night before the poor girl’s death; of how he had dined with the - two ladies; how she had gone upstairs to prepare his bed, as he was - invited to sleep, leaving the young people together, her mistress - having retired early; how, when upstairs, she heard the house-door - slam, and, going down to the parlour, found it empty. At first she was - not alarmed, thinking Mistress Sarah had gone out for a stroll with - Mr. Cowper, and would soon be back; but as time went on, she became - very uneasy, and went and told her mistress. The two women sat up all - night watching and listening, but had not liked to take any further - steps, out of regard for Sarah’s reputation. They never saw her again - till she was brought up from the river drowned. Then followed the - ridiculous investigation of Cowper’s ‘accomplices,’ as they were - termed—two attorneys and a scrivener, who had come down from London - under very suspicious circumstances, _i.e._ to attend the Assizes; how - they were all in a room together shortly after eleven o’clock, very - wet, and in a great perspiration, and had been overheard to say, - ‘Mistress Stout had behaved ill to her lover, but her courting days - would soon be over,’ to which communication was added the astounding - fact, that a piece of rope had been found in a cupboard adjoining the - sitting-room. - - It was fortunate for Spencer Cowper, who was not allowed the - assistance of counsel, that his legal education, joined to a sense of - conscious innocence, made his defence comparatively easy to him; but - the task, on all accounts, must have been most distasteful and - repugnant to a man of his character and position. He rose with - dignity, and evinced great skill and decision of purpose in the manner - in which he cross-examined the witnesses, and exposed the motives of - sectarian and political animosity, which had been employed to weaken - the interest of Sir William Cowper and his eldest son. So far his - arguments were unhesitating,—he was now to be put to a harder test. He - assured the Court that he deeply deplored the course he was compelled - to take, but four lives were at stake, and he must, however - reluctantly, violate the confidence of the dead. He brought many - witnesses to substantiate the fact of the young Quaker having - cherished a fatal passion for him, although she knew him to be - married. When last in London, she had written to announce her - intention of visiting him at his chambers in the Temple, to prevent - which William Cowper had purposely said in her hearing that Spencer - had gone into the country on business. Disappointed of this - opportunity, Sarah wrote to invite him to stay at her mother’s house - at Hertford during the Spring Assizes, which invitation he declined, - having secured lodgings in the town. He also produced letters in which - the poor girl said, ‘I am glad you have not quite forgotten there is - such a person as myself,’ and, after hinting at what seemed - unkindness, she begs him ‘so to order your affairs as to be here as - soon as you can, which cannot be sooner than you are welcome.’ - - In another and later letter she was less ambiguous in her expressions: - ‘Come life, come death,’ she says desperately, ‘I am resolved never to - desert you.’ He further asserted that the continual rebuffs she - received threw her into a state of melancholy, and that she often - spoke of her intention to destroy herself. The prisoner continued, - that on the first day of the Assizes he went first to his lodgings, - but, unwilling to mortify Sarah, afterwards to her mother’s house, and - stayed dinner; went out, and returned to supper; but when the maid had - gone upstairs, and he was alone with the girl, although he declined - detailing the conversation which ensued between them, he gave the - judge and jury to understand that it was from consideration for her - character that he left the house, which he did alone, and returned to - his lodgings in the Market Place. - - The next morning the news of the terrible event reached him. His - brother William and his wife both testified to the state of - despondency into which Sarah had lately fallen, and her frequent - allusions to approaching death. As regarded ‘the accomplices,’ they - gave good reasons for their coming to Hertford, and, for himself, he - had never had any communication with them. The judge summed up in a - vacillating and illogical manner, confessing that he was rather faint, - and was sensible he had omitted many things, but could repeat no more - of the evidence. The half-hour which it took the jury to deliberate - must have seemed interminable to those members of Cowper’s family, - already nearly maddened by suspense—above all, to the brother who sat - near him, and followed the details of the trial with breathless - interest. The jury returned, and, when the foreman answered the awful - question, the prisoner was the one individual in Court who manifested - the least emotion as the words ‘Not guilty’ echoed through the - building, and all but the enemies and slanderers acknowledged the - justice of the verdict. A feeble attempt was made to bring all the - four accused men to a fresh trial, by what was then called an ‘appeal - to murder,’ and there were various hearings on the subject by men of - the highest standing in the law, William Cowper, on these occasions, - being counsel for his brother. The proceedings, however, were quashed. - Some scurrilous writings were published, in hopes of setting the tide - of public opinion against Spencer, but they were soon forgotten. He - pursued his profession, in which he rose to eminence; but it may - easily be conjectured that, when presiding at a trial for murder, - Judge Cowper must have felt, even more than the generality of his - colleagues, the responsibility of his position, from an intimate and - personal sympathy with the feelings of an accused prisoner; and he was - remarked for his merciful tendencies. On the accession of George I., - he was named Attorney-General to the Prince of Wales, was one of the - managers on the trial of Dr. Sacheverell for high treason, and - successively Chief-Justice of Chester, Chancellor of the Duchy of - Lancaster, Serjeant-at-Law, and Judge of the Court of Common Pleas. He - also sat in Parliament for Truro, and his sister-in-law, Lady Cowper, - tells us that in 1714 the King gave M. Robethon (one of his favourite - German Ministers) the grant of Clerk of the Parliament after the death - of Mr. Johnson, who then held it, for any one he liked to name. ‘M. - Robethon let my brother Cowper have it in reversion for his sons for - £1800.’ - - By his wife, Pennington, daughter of John Goodere, Esq., Spencer had - three sons,—William, John, and Ashley. The official appointments above - alluded to were held in succession by the family for several years. He - had also a daughter, Judith, known as a poetess, married to - Lieut.-Colonel Madan. Spencer Cowper died at his chambers in Lincoln’s - Inn Fields, in 1728, and was buried at Hertingfordbury, where an - elaborate monument is erected to his memory. He was grandfather to - William Cowper the poet. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - WILLIAM, FIRST EARL COWPER, FIRST LORD CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN. - - _Full length. In Chancellor’s robes. Flowing wig. Chair._ - - BORN 1664, DIED 1723. - - BY RICHARDSON. - - - HE was the eldest son of Sir William Cowper, the second Baronet, by - Sarah, daughter of Sir Samuel Holled, merchant, of London, and was - born at Hertford Castle. He went to school at St. Albans, and seems to - have been of a most docile disposition, to judge by a letter written - to his mother when only eight years old. He says: ‘I thank you for my - bow and arrows, which I shall never use but when my master gives us - leave to play. I shall hereafter take more care of my spelling and - writing, even without ruled lines.’ - - His childish letters were written in a fair hand, giving promise of - the beautiful writing for which the future Lord Chancellor was famed, - and were addressed with much punctilio, ‘These for my ever honoured - mother, the Lady Cowper, at her house in the Charter-House Yard, - London.’ - - The boy took great pains, not only with his writing, but with his - style, so much so as to cause a suspicion in his mother’s mind that - one of the epistles was dictated by an usher, an insinuation which the - young student repelled with some asperity. It seems doubtful whether - he ever went to a public school, and certainly he never entered a - University; but at eighteen he became a Templar, giving himself up - rather to pleasure than study in these first years of a London life. - He formed a connection with a Miss Culling of Hertingfordbury, by whom - he had two children. This _liaison_ was much talked of, and by many it - was reported he had married her, a circumstance which caused him much - annoyance at a later period. In 1686 he became attached to one - Mistress Judith Booth, wise and beautiful, but poor withal, in - consequence of which his family opposed the marriage. His father was - in the prime of life, and had other children to provide for; but, in - spite of all opposition, the wedding took place, and the young husband - became studious and steady from the pressure of domestic - responsibility. He writes an amusing letter to his wife, describing - his maiden motion in the Court of King’s Bench, and tells her that he - was blamed for not interweaving enough ‘May it please your Lordships’ - and the like urbanities in his speech, adding, ‘but I will amend in - future, and you shall find me begin to practise extraordinary - civilities on your sweet self.’ - - The precepts and example of Sir William Cowper had instilled - principles of political liberality in the young lawyer’s mind which - made him regard with disapprobation and anger many of Charles II.’s - (public) proceedings, towards the latter part of his reign, and still - more so those of his successor, added to which considerations the - Cowper family were rigid Protestants; and thus it came about that when - the Prince of Orange landed in England, the brothers William and - Spencer hastily raised a small body of volunteers, and set forth, with - more than a score of young gentlemen of the same political tendencies, - to join William. - - In a diary he sent to his wife, Cowper gives an amusing description of - how he fell in with the Prince at Wallingford, at a small inn, where - he saw him ‘dine with a great variety of meats, sauces, and - sweetmeats, which, it seems, is part of the fatigue we admire so much - in great generals!’ - - He travelled with the Prince to Windsor, where they were received with - unfeigned pleasure; and he speaks of the new face of the Court, ‘where - there is nothing of the usual affectation of terror, but extreme - civility to all sorts of people, and country women admitted to see the - Prince dine.’ He does not mention a circumstance which befell in this - journey; but his daughter, Lady Sarah, who had the particulars from - her uncle Spencer, proudly records an instance of her father’s - gallantry:—On the bridge at Oxford, the small regiment of - Hertfordshire volunteers found one of the arches broken down, and an - officer, with three files of musketeers, who presented arms, and asked - who they were for. There was a silence, as the volunteers did not know - to which side their questioners belonged. ‘But my father,’ says Lady - Sarah, ‘was quite unconcerned, and, spurring his horse forward, he - flung up his hat, crying, “The Prince of Orange,” which was answered - by a shout, for they were all of the same mind.’ - - When the new King no longer required his services, Cowper resumed his - profession with diligence and zeal. He writes to his wife to express - his regret at not being able to stay with her in the country; but, had - he done so, he would throw himself out of the little business he had. - - Another time he writes from Kingston, giving an account of his having - achieved a journey through the Sussex ways (which are ruinous beyond - imagination) without hurt. ‘I vow ’tis a melancholy consideration that - mankind should inhabit such a heap of dirt.’ - - Lord Campbell tells us, writing from Abinger Hall in 1845, ‘that it is - a still common expression in that part of Surrey, that those who live - on the south side of Leith Hill are in the dirt.’ Cowper contrasts the - damp undrained tracts of Sussex with the fine champaign country of - Surrey, dry and dusty, ‘as if you had shifted in a few hours from - winter to mid-summer.’ - - The lawyer was rising gradually to great estimation in his profession, - and his friend Lord Chancellor Sommers suggested to him to go - into Parliament, believing he would be most serviceable to the Whig - party. When the elections took place in 1695, the Whigs were in the - ascendant, and both Sir William Cowper and his eldest son were - returned for Hertford, the Quakers being their chief supporters. - - Young Cowper’s maiden speech gave promise (afterwards well fulfilled) - of his qualifications as a debater. He was in great favour at Court, - and, being raised to the rank of King’s Counsel, distinguished himself - by his eloquence in the prosecution of more than one State prisoner. - During the trial of Lord Mohun, for the murder of Richard Coote, - Cowper received a tribute for the clearness and excellence of his - voice, a quality for which, in after times, he became proverbial. - Several of the Lords, whose patience was being sorely tried by the - confused, indistinct tones in which the Solicitor-General summed up, - moved that some one with a good voice, ‘particularly Mr. Cowper,’ - should be heard,—a great compliment to the gentleman, although the - motion was overruled. The Cowper family, and Sir William’s eldest son - in particular, seemed in the good graces of fortune, until the - untoward event occurred which threw all those who bore the name into - distress and perplexity, being, namely, the charge of murder against - Spencer Cowper, as already recorded in our notice of his life. He and - his brother were much attached, were members of the same profession, - and travelled the same Circuit—in fact, were almost inseparable - companions. - - The justice of Spencer Cowper’s acquittal was unquestionable, yet the - popular feeling ran so high in the town and neighbourhood, especially - among the community of which the unfortunate girl was a member, that - it was clear to every one that no candidate bearing the name of Cowper - would be successful at the next election. Sir William indeed retired - from Parliamentary life altogether, and his eldest son having failed - in his canvass for Totness, in Devon (for which place he had stood by - the wish and advice of his friend and patron, Lord Sommers), he - was fain to take refuge in the close borough of Berealstone, which he - represented until intrusted with the Great Seal. William III. died, - and Queen Anne reigned in his stead, ascending the throne with - feelings most inimical to the Whig party. Affairs did not look - promising for William Cowper, all the more so as Lord Sommers - had fallen into great disfavour; but he weathered the storm, and when - the general election in 1705 resulted in a majority for the Whigs, the - Great Seal of England was transferred from the hands of Sir Nathan - Wright to those of William Cowper. He had for some time been looked - upon as leader in the House of Commons, where his agreeable manners - and graceful address had made him personally popular. As in the case - of his brother, slander had been busy with his name, and the report - that he had married two wives (of which circumstance hereafter) had - been widely circulated. But he had powerful friends at Court in the - Duchess of Marlborough and Lord Treasurer Godolphin; and her Majesty - listened to their recommendations and her own bias in his favour, and - William Cowper kissed hands at Kensington Palace on his appointment as - Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. - - ‘The youngest Lord Keeper,’ says his daughter, Lady Sarah (he was in - his forty-first year), ‘on record.’ ‘He looked very young, and wearing - his own hair made him appear more so, which the Queen observing, - obliged him to cut it off, remarking, it would be said she had given - the Seals to a boy.’ - - It was about this time he contracted his second marriage; he had - sorely mourned for the death of his wife Judith, and her child, but - the charms of a fair client had made a deep impression on his heart. - Mary, daughter of John Clavering, Esq. of Chopwell, county Durham (a - gentleman of Tory principles), was handsome, as we see from Kneller’s - portrait—sensible, and intelligent, as we gather from her charming - diary. - - The marriage was at first kept secret, which seems unaccountable, as - the lady was well born, well bred, and of great personal charms. But - she herself gives us a clue to the mystery. The Lord Keeper was still - young, very handsome, in a high position, with every prospect of - advancement, and the eyes of many a Court beauty were turned on him as - a desirable match. We have enlarged on all the intrigues that were - carried on to prevent his union with his ‘dear rogue’ (as he fondly - calls her in one of his letters) in the notice of Lady Cowper; suffice - it to say that the sequel proved how excellent had been his choice. - But he did not allow domestic happiness to interfere with official - duties. He set himself, with the advice of Lord Sommers, to - bring about reforms on many points in the Court of Chancery, and, - above all, he took a step which met with the highest approbation among - all but the few, who aspired to the dignity he had already attained; - he abolished the custom of New Year’s gifts. For many years it had - been expected of every person connected with the Court of Chancery to - present the Lord Keeper or Lord Chancellor with gifts of provisions - and wine. But latterly money had been substituted for these minor - donations, and hundreds, and sometimes thousands, had been presented - to the great official on the 1st of January. - - Lady Cowper tells us a laughable story of Lord Chancellor Nottingham - (who spoke with a lisp). He used to stand by his table on New Year’s - Day, for the better reception of the moneys, and every time he laid a - fresh sum on the table he cried aloud, ‘O tyrant cuthtom!’ - - But before the advent of the year 1706, the Lord Keeper had it - intimated to all those whom it might concern that the practice was - abolished, having first, as (he considered) in duty bound, apprised - the Prime Minister, Lord Godolphin, of his intention. In spite of his - prohibition, some gifts appeared on the day in question, which were - refused. He says in his Diary: ‘New Year’s gifts turned back. I pray - God it do me more good than hurt.’ - - Now Lord Campbell, while praising the Lord Keeper’s magnanimity, - accuses him of wanting the courage of his opinions; and, finding he - had raised a storm amongst all the heads of all the departments that - had benefited by this ‘tyrant custom’ of present-giving, implied he - had done it in part unintentionally. If this be so, we know at least, - and that from his wife’s diary, that on his second assumption of - office, he adhered to his determination; for,—as to the people who - presented these gifts, ‘it looked like insinuating themselves into the - favour of the Court; and if it was not bribery, it looked too like - it.’ - - Of the Lord Keeper’s disinterestedness in money matters, and his - liberality, especially where men of talent were concerned, there can - be no doubt. Colley Cibber tells us that when Sir Richard Steele’s - patent as Governor of the Theatre Royal passed the Great Seal, Lord - Cowper steadily refused all fees. - - ‘Cowper managed the Court of Chancery with impartial justice and great - despatch, and was very useful in the House of Lords in the promotion - of business.’ So far Burnet’s testimony. He was chosen one of the - Lords Commissioners for England on the occasion of the Union with - Scotland, and, being next in rank to the Archbishop of Canterbury (who - did not attend), he occupied a most prominent post at the daily - conferences. Lord Campbell tells us that, by his insight into - character, and his conciliatory manners, he succeeded wonderfully in - soothing Caledonian pride and in quieting Presbyterian jealousy. He - regained his seat at Hertford in spite (as he thought, at least) of - Lord Harley’s machinations; for between him and that Minister there - was no love lost, although Harley had an exalted opinion of the Lord - Keeper’s abilities. He was at this time in the Queen’s confidence, who - sent for him one day to her closet, in order to consult him on the - choice of a Chief Baron for Ireland. ‘I observed it was difficult to - find a fit man; but it was obviously the interest of England to send - over as many magistrates as it was possible from hence, being the best - means to preserve the dependency of that country on England.’ The - Queen said she understood that they had a mind to be independent if - they could, but that they should not. Verily ‘l’histoire se rêpête de - jour en jour.’ He was now raised to the peerage as Baron Cowper of - Wingham, county Kent, and was deputed to offer the thanks of - Parliament to his friend, the Duke of Marlborough, for his late - victory at Ramilies. - - The Act of Union appointed there should be one Great Seal for the - United Kingdom, although a Seal should still be kept in Scotland for - things appertaining to private right, and Lord Cowper was declared by - the Queen in Council to be the first Lord Chancellor of Great Britain. - - This was in May 1707. In the general election of 1708 the Whigs gained - a decided majority, and Cowper’s enemy, Harley, retired; while his - friend, Lord Sommers, was made President of the Council. Shortly - after the famous trial of Dr. Sacheverell, at which the Lord - Chancellor presided, the Whig Ministry resigned, and the Tories - returned to power. Every endeavour was made by Harley and the Queen - herself to induce Lord Cowper to retain office. He was subjected to - the greatest importunity, in spite of his repeated refusals, and his - repugnance ‘to survive his colleagues.’ - - He was actually followed down to Cole Green, ‘my place in - Hertfordshire (where I had gone to visit my wife, who had lately lain - in),’ by emissaries of the new Minister, and when he waited on her - Majesty to resign the Seal in person, the Queen persisted in her - refusal to receive it, and forced Lord Cowper to ‘take it away and - think the matter over till the morrow.’ He returned unaltered in his - decision, and Lord Campbell, from whom we quote so largely, says ‘he - withdrew from her presence, carrying with him, what was far more - precious than this badge of office, the consciousness of having acted - honourably.’ Lord Cowper now sought quiet in his country house, but - even here he was assailed by Swift’s abuse, and subjected to stormy - visits from the Duchess of Marlborough, who came there more especially - to vent her spleen by abuse of Queen Anne. Now Lord Cowper had opposed - the Duke of Marlborough on more than one point when he considered his - ambition overweening, but he was sincerely attached both to him and to - his wife, and when the Duke and Duchess were attacked, their faithful - friend raised his voice and pen in behalf of these ex-favourites. Lord - Sommers was growing infirm, and Lord Cowper now led the - Opposition in the House of Lords, where the Queen said she hoped he - would still serve her. He replied he would act in the same manner as - he would have done had he continued in the same office, to which her - kindness had appointed him; and he kept his word. - - He strove hard to deter his Royal mistress from what many in that day - considered an unconstitutional proceeding, namely the creation of - Peers for the special purpose of carrying a measure or strengthening a - party—at least, so we gather from the Queen’s remark, ‘He was pleased - to say to me he considered the House of Lords full enough!’ in spite - of which remark twelve new peers of Tory tendencies took their seats a - few days afterwards, who were facetiously asked if they would vote by - their foreman. Lord Cowper never let an opportunity pass of paying a - tribute to his aged friend, Lord Sommers; and we find a - well-timed and two-sided compliment to Sir Isaac Newton, appointed by - that nobleman to the Mastership of the Mint. Lord Cowper thanked the - great philosopher for one of his scientific works written in Latin, - and goes on to say, ‘I find you have taken occasion to do justice to - that truly great man, my Lord Sommers, but give me leave to say - the other parts of the book which do not appear to concern him are a - lasting instance, among many others, to his clear judgment in - recommending the fittest man in the whole kingdom to that employment.’ - It was about this time that the feud between Oxford (Harley) and - Bolingbroke (St. John) was at its height, the former still continuing - his overtures to Cowper to coalesce, when the Gordian knot was cut - asunder by the shears of Atropos. The Queen’s dangerous illness was - announced, and the Treasurer’s staff wrested from Oxford’s grasp, and - consigned by the dying sovereign into the hands of the Duke of - Shrewsbury, who burst into the Cabinet while sitting, accompanied by - the Duke of Argyll, with the important news that Oxford was dismissed, - and Bolingbroke called upon to form a Ministry. Great confusion - prevailed; all Privy Councillors were summoned to attend, and Lords - Cowper and Sommers (both fast friends to the Hanoverian - succession) repaired to Kensington Palace to make preparations for the - reception of the new monarch—for Queen Anne had breathed her last. - - On the accession of George I. Lords Justices were appointed by the - Regency Act for the administration of the Government till the arrival - of the King. The Whig Lords outnumbered the Tories, and Cowper was - their guiding spirit. Their first measure was to name Joseph Addison - secretary, and respecting this appointment a laughable story is told. - Being directed to draw up an official statement of the death of Queen - Anne, the great author was so deeply impressed with the responsibility - of his situation, and so overwhelmed by a choice of words, that the - Lords Justices lost all patience, and directed a common clerk to do - the business. No change took place in the Government offices till the - arrival of George from Hanover, with the exception of Lord - Bolingbroke, ‘the Pretender’s friend,’ who was summarily dismissed. - Lord Cowper, being one of those intrusted with this duty, and the - recently appointed Treasurer, found the very doors of his office - locked against him. - - No sooner did George I. arrive from Hanover than the Whigs returned to - power. Lord Cowper was summoned to the Royal presence, and the Great - Seal once more intrusted to that worthy keeping. - - ‘The King was pleased to say he was satisfied with the character he - had heard of me, and so I replied that I accepted the post with the - utmost gratitude, and would serve his Majesty faithfully, and, as far - as my health would allow, industriously.’ - - The Prince of Wales was in the outer room, and very cordial in his - manner to the new Lord Chancellor. - - On the 20th October 1714, the King was crowned, and Lord and Lady - Cowper were both present. The lady had translated for the King’s - benefit (seeing he knew no English) a memorial written by her lord, - and entitled _An Impartial History of Parties_, decidedly in favour of - Whig principles, which strengthened his Majesty’s predilection for his - Chancellor; and indeed both husband and wife stood in high favour at - Court, Lady Cowper having just been named Lady of the Bedchamber to - the Princess of Wales. Now the King, although he had long looked - forward to the possession of the English Crown, had never given - himself the trouble to learn English, while Cowper had neither French - nor German,—a circumstance which was productive of some difficulties - in the new Parliament. The King’s ignorance and natural awkwardness - were all the more distasteful to those who had been accustomed (we - quote Lord Campbell’s words) ‘to the late Queen’s graceful delivery, - scarcely excelled by what we ourselves so warmly admire.’ - - But could the voice of the last Queen-Regnant, though ‘it charmed all - ears,’ rival for one moment those tones—to be heard, alas! so seldom - now—which used to ring, clear and distinct as a silver bell, from one - end of the House to the other, where the loud overstrained accents of - angry men are so often inaudible? - - In 1715 the Lord Chancellor acted as High Steward on the trial of the - Jacobite Lords, ‘much,’ says Lady Cowper, ‘to my husband’s vexation - and mine.’ - - Lord Winton, one of the prisoners, tried the Lord Steward’s patience - so sorely by frivolous delays and impediments to the despatch of - business, that Cowper, forgetting his usual equanimity, answered with - some harshness, upon which Winton cried out, ‘I hope, my Lords, we are - not to have what in my country is called Cowper Justice; that is, hang - a man first, and try him afterwards.’ The Lord Steward was too - dignified to vouchsafe an answer, but the sally caused some unseemly - merriment in Court, and the saying ‘Cowper Justice’ was often quoted - in after days by his enemies. He presided on several State trials, - that of the ex-Minister Harley, Earl of Oxford, and others. About this - period of his career a charge was brought against him of unfairness in - the appointment and dismissal of magistrates, but his faithful - secretary and expounder, Mary Cowper, came once more to his aid by - translating his vindication for the King’s perusal. He writes to her - on the subject— - - ‘My dear, here is the postscript which I hope may soon be turned into - French. I am glad to hear that you are well, which upon tryall I find - myself too. Dear Rogue, yours ever and always.’ - - The proceedings were stopped, but the days of Cowper’s public life - were numbered. Many intrigues had been at work among his political - opponents, to induce, worry, or persuade the Lord Chancellor to vacate - the Woolsack, but his wife’s diary lets us completely behind the - scenes. She says, ‘My Lord fell ill again, which occasioned a report - that he was about to resign; some said he had not health to keep in, - others that the Lords of the Cabinet Council were jealous of his great - reputation, which was true, for they had resolved to put Chief-Justice - Parkes in his place.’ The lady goes on to say that her ‘disputes and - arguments were the chief reason of his staying in,’ and how she ‘took - three weeks to prevail on her Lord to remain.’ But the friendship that - existed between the Prince and Princess of Wales and Lord and Lady - Cowper was very disadvantageous to the latter pair, as regarded the - favour of the Sovereign, for at this juncture the Royal father and son - were at daggers drawn, so that it was difficult for any one to keep - friends with both sides. Doubtless worry and perplexity of all kinds - tended to increase the indisposition of the Lord Chancellor, for his - wife now gave up all idea of pressing him to remain in office. She - told him ‘that if it were any pleasure to him she would retire into - the country, and never repent the greatest sacrifice she could make.’ - And unquestionably it appeared that it would have been a sacrifice, - for Mary Cowper was eminently fitted for a Court life, although her - patience and forbearance were often sorely tried, as we gather from - her diary. It is almost impossible to avoid occasional repetition, as - the notices of husband and wife are naturally interwoven, though we - have endeavoured to disentangle them. - - The Chancellor was beset with importunities to exchange his post for - that of President of the Council. He replied he would resign if they - found a better man to fill his place, but he would never change the - duties of which he could acquit himself with honour for such as he - could not perform at all—a resolution we strongly recommend to the - consideration of more modern statesmen. - - Lady Cowper’s Diary.—‘The Prince says, there is no one in whom he has - any confidence but my husband, and the King says Lord Cowper and the - Duke of Devonshire are the only two men he has found trustworthy in - the kingdom!’ But for all that, there seems little doubt that his - Majesty, to whose ear birds of the air carried every matter, was not - best pleased with the constant allusions made in conversation between - the Prince of Wales and the Lord Chancellor to a future time, and all - that was then to be done, when another head would wear the crown. Lord - Cowper, writing to his wife from Hertfordshire, excuses himself for - not attending Court, ‘as my vacations are so short, and the children - require the presence of one parent at least; your sister is prudent, - but they do not stand in awe of her, and there was no living till the - birch was planted in my room.’—_September 1716._ The opposition which - Lord Cowper offered to a proposed Bill, the passing of which would - have made the Prince dependent on his father for income, put the - finishing touch to his unpopularity with George I., although the Lord - Chancellor wrote a letter (in Latin, the only language they understood - in common) to his Majesty, to explain his views. - - On the 15th April 1718, Lord Cowper resigned the Great Seal at the - same time that he kissed hands on his elevation to an earldom. We - cannot resist inserting in this place a tribute which was paid the - Minister, though it was not published till after his death: ‘His - resignation was a great grief to the well affected, and to - dispassionate men of both parties, who knew that by his wisdom and - moderation he had gained abundance of friends for the King; brought - the clergy into better temper, and hindered hot, over-zealous spirits - from running things into dangerous extremes.’ This, be it remembered, - was written of one who had gone to his account, of no living patron - who could benefit the writer. He now retired to his house at Cole - Green, and busied himself in improving and beautifying his gardens and - pleasure-grounds. Here he received many congratulations on being (as a - _protégé_ of his, one Hughes, a poet, expresses it) ‘eased of the - fatigue and burthen of office.’ - - But, though Lord Cowper had felt the strife and contention of parties - to be most irksome, yet he was so accustomed to official life, that he - continued to take a deep interest in all the measures that were - brought before the country. He strenuously supported the Test and - Corporation Acts, and as vigorously opposed Lord Sunderland’s famous - Peerage Bill, which proposed that the existing number of English Peers - should never be increased, with exception in favour of Princes of the - blood-royal, that for every extinction there should be a new creation; - and, instead of sixteen elective Scotch Peers, the King should name - twenty-five to be hereditary. A glance at the works of Sir Bernard - Burke, Ulster King-at-Arms, and his _collaborateurs_, will be the best - proof that Sunderland’s Bill was thrown out. Amongst those who were - the most violent in the denunciation of this measure, were the wives - and daughters of members in the House of Commons, who were supposed to - have been instrumental (as we may believe from more recent experience) - in influencing the votes of their relatives. We mention this - circumstance as bearing in some degree on our subject. In the - beginning of 1722 an incident occurred which was differently construed - by the admirers and detractors of the ex-Chancellor. - - On the 3d February, the House of Lords having assembled, the absence - of the reigning Lord Chancellor, as likewise that of the Lord - Chief-Justice, was remarked, and much difficulty arose as to the - proceeding of the House. Lord Cowper, most indignant at the - defalcation of his successor, moved that the Duke of Somerset, the - peer of highest rank present, should occupy the Woolsack, and, on his - refusal, further proposed that course to the Duke of Kingston and Lord - Lechmere; but the discussion was put an end to by the arrival of the - Chancellor, in most undignified and hot haste, full of excuses of - having been detained by his Majesty, and of apologies to their - Lordships for having kept them waiting. Lord Cowper, and several of - his way of thinking, were not so easily appeased, and one of them - moved that the House, to show its indignation, should adjourn till - Monday next without transacting any further business. The motion was - negatived, but Lord Cowper and his friends signed a protest, which - went to say, that the excuses which had been alleged seemed inadequate - to justify the indignity offered to the House,—‘undoubtedly the - greatest council in the kingdom, to which all other councils should - give way, and therefore no other business ought to have detained the - Chancellor,’ etc.; ‘also, we venture to say, the dignity of this House - has not of late years been increasing, so we are unwilling that - anything that we consider to be a gross neglect of it should pass - without some note on our records.’ We cannot help alluding to this - curious circumstance, as it bears so strongly on the state of party - feeling at the time, and of Lord Cowper’s individual feelings in - particular. - - The exiled Royal family had on several occasions applied to him for - his support and assistance, and, although he had treated the - communications with neglect and refusal, yet his enemies were - industrious in setting rumours abroad prejudicial to the - ex-Chancellor’s loyalty to the house of Hanover. Layer (afterwards - executed for conspiracy) had brought in his name when examined before - a Committee of the House of Commons, which was, for the most part, - only too ready to listen to any slander against the ex-Minister. - - Lord Cowper entered a protest in the Parliamentary Journal, that the - charges brought against him in this matter were false, ‘upon his - honour,’ the usual oath of a Peer. He manfully opposed the Bill for - the banishment of Bishop Atterbury, who was voted guilty of high - treason without a hearing. ‘The alleged culprit,’ he says, ‘stands at - your bar, and has never attempted to fly from justice. If there be - legal evidence against him, let him be legally convicted; without - legal evidence he must be wrongly condemned.’ - - After much more in the same forcible strain, he continues, ‘I can - guess at no other advantage that the Church can derive from this Bill, - except that it will cause a vacancy in the Deanery of Westminster and - the See of Rochester.’ - - Lord Campbell quotes a saying of Lord Bathurst on the same debate, - which is worth recording. He ‘could not account for the inveterate - malice which some people bore to the learned and ingenious Bishop, - unless possessed of the infatuation of the wild Indians, who believe - they will not only inherit the spoils but also the abilities of the - enemy they kill.’ But, in spite of eloquence and sarcasm, Bishop - Atterbury was banished. Cowper’s last public act was to vote against - Sir Robert Walpole’s Bill for the imposition of a heavy tax on the - estates of the Roman Catholics. This proposed injustice he strenuously - opposed, one of his chief arguments being as follows: ‘I beg your - Lordships to reflect if you are not yourselves injuring the Protestant - cause, for Protestants might have severe hardships inflicted on them - abroad, by reason of our persecution of Roman Catholics at home.’ - - The remainder of his life was passed between Cole Green and London. As - we have before observed, he superintended the management of his - estate, presided over the education of his children, and enjoyed the - society of his friends; but his letters go to prove that the interest - he still took in public affairs preponderated over that he felt in the - pursuits of a country life. He was too often deprived of the - consolation of his wife’s presence in his Hertfordshire home, in - consequence of her close attendance on the Princess of Wales. He - writes to her most affectionately, and gives her excellent advice, - such as, ‘If you discern that any at your Court are sowing seeds that - will raise strife, I hope you will do your best to root ‘em out; and - when you have so done your duty, you will have more reason to be - unconcerned at the event, if it should be unfortunate. Though, when - you have done so well, I would not have you so much as hope that there - are not some who will represent you as an intolerable mischief-maker. - I thank you for your endearing and, I depend, very sincere - expressions; but, considering all things, I think it is but reasonable - that you should find something more satisfactory in a Court than you - can in the home of a retired Minister—who, you know, is always a - peevish creature—and so solitary a place. The Attorney-General puts me - in mind of the choice by which they generally try idiots: it is to see - if they will choose an apple before a piece of gold. It is cruel to - tantalise a poor country man with the life of state and pleasure you - describe. I could be content as I am if I did not hear of such fine - doings.’ - - He thinks the best way, ‘since we neither beat nor fine our servants, - is to make them so content that they will fear being turned away. - John’s drunkenness seems a tertian, having one sober day between two - drunken ones. On Friday it proved quotidian.’ He finds ‘the country - pleasant,’ but it dulls him, and he takes an aversion to all but the - little ones of the place. The last letter he ever wrote to his wife - was dated from London, she being at Cole Green, one week before his - death—the fine handwriting, much impaired. He complains to his dearest - Mary, ‘that man and wife cannot correspond with innocent and proper - freedom, without its being a diversion to a third person,’ and he - signs himself, after promising to be with her soon, ‘yours with - perfect affection.’ He returned home on the day appointed, but he had - caught cold on his journey thither, and was seized with an alarming - illness. Happily his wife was by his bedside to minister to his - necessities, with all the tenderness of devoted affection; his - children, too, whom he so much loved, were with him. When told that he - had not long to live, Lord Cowper listened calmly, and his death was - composed and peaceful. He was buried in the parish church of - Hertingfordbury, but no tablet marks the last resting-place of - William, Earl Cowper, first Lord Chancellor of Great Britain. - - Lord Campbell, in the interesting Life from which we have so largely - quoted, speaks of those who praised him and those who maligned him. - Swift, who had no call to be severe in matters of morality, and his - friend Mrs. Manley, had been very instrumental in promulgating the - slander respecting a clandestine marriage between Cowper and the young - lady of whom he was guardian,—a charge which was so often repeated - that it gained credit among some of his political enemies, at least, - who gave him the nickname of ‘Will Bigamy.’ - - The great Voltaire, in his _Philosophical Dictionary_, does not - disdain to assure his readers that the English Lord Chancellor not - only practised, but wrote a pamphlet in favour of, polygamy! ‘Il est - public en Angleterre, et on voudroit le nier en vain, que le - Chancellier Cowper, épousa deux femmes, qui vécurent ensemble dans sa - maison, avec une concorde singulière, qui fit honneur à tous les - trois.’ This was one of the observations made by the great French - philosopher, when he was so obliging as to come over for the purpose - of studying our manners and customs; but Lord Cowper was rich in - panegyrists both in prose and verse—the latter effusions, to our - taste, too stilted and artificial, for the most part, to be worthy of - insertion; but a passage from a paper in the _Spectator_ is a graceful - and characteristic tribute to his many gifts:— - - ‘It is Lord Cowper’s good fortune ever to please and to be pleased; - wherever he comes, to be admired, or is absent, to be lamented. His - merit fares like the pictures of Raphael, which are seen with - admiration, or at least no one dare own he has no taste for a - composition which has received so universal an applause. It is below - him to catch the sight by any care of dress; he is always the - principal figure in the room. He first engages your sight, as if there - were stronger light ‘upon him than on any other person. Nothing can - equal the pleasure of hearing him speak but the satisfaction one - receives in the civility and attention he pays to the discourse of - others.’ So far the _Spectator_: his character, drawn in the - _Historical Register_, speaks in the most glowing terms of his - eminence as a lawyer, civilian, and statesman, and winds up with these - words: ‘a manly and flowing eloquence, a clear, sonorous voice, a - gracious aspect, and an easy address; in a word, all that is necessary - to form a complete orator.’ - - The Duke Wharton, speaking of him in his official capacity, says, ‘He - had scarcely presided in that high station for one year before the - scales became even, with the universal approbation of both parties.’ - Lord Chesterfield, although there was a little sting mixed with the - praise, records ‘his purity of style, his charm of elocution, and - gracefulness of action. The ears and eyes gave him up the hearts and - understandings of his audience.’ We would merely add that if to any - reader of these pages such praise should appear in any way - exaggerated, we must remind them they were all written after there was - no more to be hoped from the gratified vanity of Lord Cowper. His - trust and humility as a Christian are testified by an entry in his - Diary, on his appointment as Lord Keeper: ‘During these great honours - done me, I often reflected on the uncertainty of them, and even of - life itself. I searched my heart, and found no pride and self-conceit - in it; and I begged God that He would preserve my mind from relying on - the transient vanity of the world, and teach me to depend only on His - providence, that I should not be lifted up by present success, or - dejected when the reverse should happen. And verily, I believe, I was - helped by His Holy Spirit.’ - - When the reverse did come, he added, ‘Glory be to God, who has - sustained me in adversity, and carried me through the malice of my - enemies, so that all designed for my hurt turned to my advantage.’ It - is evident that Lord Cowper, although he loved the exercise of those - public offices for which he was so well fitted, knew how to retire - into private life with dignity and composure. One short anecdote, and - we have done. It so happened that Richard Cromwell, in his old age, - had to undergo an examination in Westminster Hall, at a moment when - the name of the ex-Protector’s family was execrated through the - kingdom. The Lord Chancellor treated the fallen dignitary with more - than common respect, and courteously ordered a chair to be placed for - him,—treatment which contrasted with that experienced by Richard when - driven from the door of the House of Lords with insults as one of the - common mob, exclaiming as he went, ‘The last time I was here I sat - upon the throne!’ - - Lord Cowper had gained the good fortune he deserved; he built a house - at Cole Green, and made a collection of pictures which forms part of - the splendid gallery now at Panshanger. His London houses were - situated in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and Great George Street. He had also - a lodging at Kensington,—‘the roads about that distant spot being,’ we - are assured, ‘so secure, that there was no danger in travelling thence - to London at night.’ - - - ------------------ - - _No. 12._ - - WILLIAM, SECOND EARL COWPER. - - _Blue coat. Red waistcoat._ - - BORN 1709, DIED 1764. - - - MARRIED in 1732 Lady Henrietta, daughter and co-heir of Henry de - Nassau d’Auverquerque (Overkirche), Earl of Grantham. She was the sole - surviving descendant of the legitimised offspring of Maurice, Prince - of Orange, Stadtholder. In 1733 Earl Cowper was appointed Lord of the - Bedchamber, a post he afterwards resigned; subsequently Lord - Lieutenant, and _Custos Rotulorum_ of the county of Hertford. He - assumed the prefix of Clavering to that of Cowper, in pursuance of his - uncle’s will. By his first wife Lord Cowper had one son, and one - daughter; by his second wife, Caroline Georgiana, daughter of the Earl - Granville, widow of the Honourable John Spencer, he had no children. - He was buried at Hertingfordbury, and succeeded by his only son. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 13._ - - GEORGE, THIRD EARL COWPER. - - _Red dress. Light-coloured cap._ - - BORN 1738, DIED 1789. - - BY RAPHAEL MENGS (?). - - - ELDEST son of the second Earl Cowper by Lady Henrietta, youngest - daughter and co-heir of Henry d’Auverquerque, Earl of Grantham. King - George II., the Duke of Grafton, and Princess Amelia stood in person - as sponsors at his baptism. In 1754 he came into a large fortune on - the death of the aforesaid Earl of Grantham, and in 1759 was elected - M.P. for the town of Hertford. While his father was yet alive, Lord - Fordwich (as he then was) went on his travels, and, arriving at - Florence, fell in love with that beautiful city, and with one of its - beautiful citizens, the Princess Corsi. The lady was married, or the - young lord would doubtless have carried her to England as his wife, - and thus escaped the blame, cast upon him by Horace Walpole, of - disobeying the summons of his dying father in 1764. So delighted was - George, Lord Cowper, with his sojourn in Florence, which he had - originally visited with the intention of passing a short time there, - that he remained within its charmed walls for upwards of thirty years. - He outlived his infatuation for the fair Florentine, and married, in - 1775, Anna, daughter of Charles Gore, a gentleman at that time - residing in Florence with his family, who was said to have been the - original of Goethe’s travelled Englishman in _Wilhelm Meister_. Lord - Cowper was most desirous of obtaining permission to add the royal - surname of Nassau to his own patronymic, on the plea that he was one - of the representatives of the Earl of Grantham (an extinct title); but - there were many difficulties in the way, and while the matter was - pending he received a high mark of distinction from the Emperor of - Austria, through the instrumentality of his Imperial Majesty’s - brother, Peter Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, at whose Court Lord and - Lady Cowper (but especially the latter) stood in high favour. This was - the grant of a patent to Lord Cowper, which bestowed on him the rank - of a Prince of the Holy Roman Empire. That arch-gossip, but most - amusing letter-writer, Horace Walpole, in his correspondence with his - friend Sir Horace Mann, British Envoy at Florence, takes a most - unaccountable interest in the private concerns and aspirations of Lord - Cowper, and thus animadverts on the subject of his foreign names and - titles: ‘There is another hitch in the great Nassau question. The - objection is now started, that he must not bear that name with the - title of Prince. The Emperor thought he had hit on a clever compromise - for his _protégé_, by giving up the name of Nassau, and substituting - that of Auverquerque. But my Lord’s cousins object to that also, so - now he is reduced to plain Prince Cowper, for which honour he has to - pay £500.’ - - Again: ‘I do not think either the Emperor or Lord Cowper knows what he - is about. Surely an English peer, with substantial dignity in his own - country, is more dignified than a man residing in another country, and - endowed with a nominal principality in a third!’ - - Again: ‘I believe both Emperor and Prince begin to regret the step. - The Imperial diploma dubs him Highness, but he himself will not allow - any one to address him in any other way than Lord Cowper.’ - - It was not very long after their marriage that Horace Walpole glances - at the report of a possible separation between Lord and Lady Cowper, - but without assigning any reason. There can be little doubt that the - union was not a happy one, for, whatever other ground of complaint the - husband might have had, Lady Cowper was of a quarrelsome and - unconciliatory disposition, and her sister, who lived with the family - at Florence, seems, by all accounts, to have been far the more amiable - of the two. Miss Berry alludes to a visit she paid her compatriots at - Lord Cowper’s house in Florence, ‘where you have the best of society, - both native and foreign, and where all the English (in particular) are - desirous of obtaining an introduction.’ She goes on to describe the - house as ‘fitted up in a peculiar manner: one room as a museum, - another as a laboratory, a third a workshop; in fact, too many to - enumerate.’ He was evidently a man of very versatile tastes, and one - who had many irons in the fire at the same moment. In 1781 Horace - Walpole, alluding to the fact that the three Cowper boys had been sent - over to England for their education, says, ‘It is astonishing that - neither parent nor child can bring your _principal_ Earl from that - specific spot,—but we are a lunatic nation.’ Another letter speaks of - a vacant green ribbon, and the possibility it might be given to Lord - Cowper, if he were on the spot; ‘but he won’t come. I do allow him a - place in the Tribune at Florence. An English earl, who has never seen - his earldom, and takes root and has fruit at Florence, and is proud of - his pinchbeck principality in a third country, is as great a curiosity - as any in the Tuscan Collection.’ - - Lord Cowper did go to England at last, and Walpole owns to his going - to a concert at Mrs. Cosway’s—‘out of curiosity, not to hear an - Italian singer sing one song, at the extravagant sum of £10—the same - whom I have heard half a dozen times at the opera-house for as many - shillings—but to see an English earl, who had passed thirty years at - Florence, and thought so much of his silly title, and his order from - Würtemberg! You know, he really imagined he was to take precedence of - all the English dukes, and now he has tumbled down into a tinsel - titularity. I only meant to amuse my eyes, but Mr. Durens brought the - personage up, and presented us to each other. He answered very well, - to my idea, for I should have taken his Highness for a Doge of Genoa. - He has the awkward dignity of a temporary representative of a nominal - power. I wonder his Highness does not desire the Pope to make one of - his sons a bishop _in partibus infidelium_, and that Miss Anne Pitt - does not request his Holiness to create her Principessa Fossani.’ - - It is inconsistent with the character of Horace Walpole, who did not - disdain rank or titles, and who was by no means insensible to the - charm of decorations—whether of walls or button-holes—to inveigh so - harshly against a dignity which entitles the owner to the privilege, - dear in heraldic eyes, of bearing his paternal coat on the breast of - the Imperial Eagle. - - England could not long detain Lord Cowper from the country of his - adoption. He returned to Florence, where he died in 1789. The greater - part of the Italian pictures in this beautiful collection was - purchased by the third Lord Cowper, who was a true lover of art, and - who was reduced to great difficulties, on more than one occasion, in - conveying his pictures out of Florence, the inhabitants of that city - being averse to parting with such treasures. One of the most valuable - is said to have been concealed in the lining of his travelling - carriage, when he went to England. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 14._ - - GEORGE AUGUSTUS, FOURTH EARL COWPER. - - _Peer’s Parliamentary robes. Powder._ - - BORN 1776, DIED 1799. - - BY JACKSON. - - - BORN at Florence, Sir Horace Mann stood proxy as godfather for the - King of England at the boy’s baptism, and Sir Horace Walpole writes to - the Minister giving him information on some especial points of - etiquette to be observed on the occasion. Lord Cowper died suddenly. - He was unmarried, and was succeeded by his brother, Peter Leopold. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 15._ - - PETER LEOPOLD FRANCIS NASSAU, FIFTH EARL COWPER. - - _In Peer’s Parliamentary robes_ - - BORN 1778, DIED 1837. - - BY NORTHCOTE. - - - HE was the second son of the third Earl, born at Florence, godson to - the Grand Duke of Tuscany, married, in 1805, Emily, only daughter of - Peniston Lamb, first Viscount Melbourne (afterwards Viscountess - Palmerston), by whom he had three sons,—George, his successor, - William, and Spencer, and two daughters, the Countess of Shaftesbury - and Viscountess Jocelyn. He succeeded his brother. Lord Campbell, in - his _Lives of the Chancellors_, concludes his notice of the first Earl - Cowper with a sincere tribute of admiration to Peter Leopold, the - fifth earl:— - - ‘He had too much delicacy of sentiment to take a leading part in - public life, but to the most exquisitely pleasing manners he joined a - manly understanding and a playful wit. From him I received kind and - encouraging notice when I was poor and obscure; and his benevolent and - exhilarating smile is one of the most delightful images in my memory - of pleasures to return no more.’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 16._ - - JOHN OF NASSAU, COUNT OF NASSAU SIEGEN; HIS WIFE AND FAMILY. - - _The Count and Countess are seated side by side in a large vestibule; - he is richly dressed, and wears the collar of the Golden Fleece; a - dog at his feet. On the lap of the Countess lies a small spaniel, - and at her side leans her son, in a red dress. Three daughters, in - different-coloured frocks, stand together; the eldest holds a - rose._ - - BORN 1583, DIED 1638. - - BY VANDYCK. - - - HE was surnamed the Junior, son of Count John of Nassau Siegen by his - wife, Margaret de Waldeck. He began public life in the service of the - Archbishop of Cologne, and afterwards entered that of the United - Provinces, in which he fought against Spain. But the Count considered - that he was slighted, and his merits not duly appreciated by the - Government, and in disgust he renounced the Protestant faith in 1609 - (or 1613), at the Hague, where he published an explanation of the - motives which led him to embrace the tenets of the Church of Rome. He - moreover transferred his military services to the Emperor of Germany, - Ferdinand II., the sworn enemy of the Protestants, the adversary of - the unfortunate King of Bohemia, of Gustavus Adolphus, and all the - heroes of the Reformed religion in the early part of the Thirty Years’ - War. In 1620, when the Stadtholder, Frederic Henry, was besieging - Bois-le-Duc, the Count of Nassau Siegen (his kinsman) invaded Holland - at the head of eight or ten thousand men, and took the town of - Amersfoort. The following year, in command of a small army, he - encamped in the neighbourhood of Rynberg, and did all in his power to - prevent his brother William from crossing the Rhine between Broek and - Orsoy. In this attempt he was defeated, wounded, and carried prisoner - to Wesel, where, we are told, his brother frequently visited him - during his captivity. When his wounds were cured, Count John purchased - his freedom with the sum of ten thousand rixdollars; but he narrowly - escaped being taken prisoner a second time, in a naval engagement with - the Spaniards. This was at Mosselkreek (the Creek of Mussels), where - his vessels were stranded, and he lost a considerable number of men. - The Dutch on this occasion gave him the derisive title of Mussulman. - In 1637 he made an unsuccessful attempt to surprise Rynberg; and in - 1638 death put an end to his adventurous, but by no means blameless, - career. - - It is impossible to look on Vandyck’s splendid picture without - experiencing a feeling of profound regret that a brave and able - soldier, a man of so imposing a presence, and so noble a bearing, - should have renounced the faith for which numerous members of his - family had fought and bled, and drawn his sword against his native - land in the service of an alien sovereign. The proud order of the - Golden Fleece which hangs round his neck seems but a poor distinction - when we remember the circumstances by which it was obtained. In 1618 - he had married Ernestine, daughter of Lamoral, Prince de Ligne, by - whom he had one son and three daughters:— - - John Francis Desideratus, Prince of Nassau Siegen, Knight of the - Golden Fleece, and Spanish Governor of Guelderland in 1688. He - had three wives: first, Johanna Claudia, daughter of John, - Count of Köningseck, who died in 1664; second, Eleanor Sophia, - daughter of Hermann Fortunatus, Margrave of Baden, who died in - 1668; third, Isabella Clara Eugenia de la Serre, _alias_ de - Montant, ‘a noble lady.’ She died in 1714. Prince John of - Nassau Siegen had eleven children. He died in 1690. - - The three daughters represented in this family group were— - - 1. Ernestine, married to the Prince Maurice Henry, Hadawar. - - 2. Clara Mary, married first Albert Henry, Prince de Ligne, and - afterwards Claudius Lamoral, his brother. - - 3. Lamberta Alberta, who died unmarried. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - ANTE-LIBRARY. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ANTE-LIBRARY. - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - ADMIRAL DE RUYTER. - - _In armour, holding a truncheon. The other arm akimbo. Curtain._ - - BORN 1607, DIED 1676. - - - BORN at Flushing, of which town his father was a burgher. As a mere - child Michael de Ruyter was determined to be a sailor, and gained the - paternal consent that he should go to sea as cabin-boy when only - eleven years of age. He rose quickly in his profession, was made a - pilot when still very young for the post, and passed through the - intermediate grades, till he gained the command of a vessel. In 1635 - he made several campaigns in the East Indies, and in 1645 was sent as - Vice-Admiral in command of a Dutch fleet to assist the Portuguese - against the Spaniards. After two years’ retirement from service, De - Ruyter engaged the Algerine corsairs off Sarley, and gained a complete - victory. The Moors, who were spectators of the conflict, insisted on - his entering the town in triumph, on a richly caparisoned horse, - followed by a long retinue, including many of the captive pirates. - - These ‘plagues of the ocean,’ as they were justly termed, continued to - give De Ruyter much annoyance, but he was usually successful in his - encounters with them, and in one fierce combat he seized and hanged - one of the most notoriously cruel and rapacious of these ‘buccaneer - sea-dogs.’ In 1659 he was sent, by order of the States-General, to the - assistance of Denmark against Sweden, an enterprise in which he - distinguished himself greatly, and gained the gratitude of the King of - Denmark, who complimented him highly, and granted him a pension. On - his return home De Ruyter was received with great honour, and - promoted. He then proceeded to the coast of Africa, to look after some - Dutch colonies, of which England had taken possession. England and the - United Provinces were now in constant collision, and the Dutch Admiral - found a noble and well-matched foe in the gallant commander Prince - Rupert, soldier, sailor, and artist. De Ruyter was afterwards joined - in command with Van Tromp, a worthy colleague, but of no friendly - spirit. During the time that negotiations were pending for peace with - England, at Breda, De Ruyter resolved, so to speak, to hasten his - opportunities; he therefore bore down on Sheerness, burned all the - available shipping, and, continuing his work of destruction up the - river Thames, approached too near London to be agreeable to the more - peaceable portion of the citizens. - - In 1671 he had sole command of his country’s fleet, against the - combined forces of England (under the Duke of York) and France (under - the Comte D’Estrées), and it is but just to record that he was - frequently successful, but invariably brave. Indeed, the French - Admiral wrote to Colbert, the Minister, at home, ‘I would lay down my - life for the glory that De Ruyter has gained.’ In 1675 the Spaniards - had recourse to their old enemies, the Dutch, to ask assistance for - the inhabitants of Messina, against the French, and De Ruyter was - despatched to Sicily for that purpose. A terrible sea-fight ensued, - the French being commanded by Duquesne, a brave and efficient officer; - many vessels were sunk and destroyed on both sides, and the carnage - was terrible. - - At the commencement of the action the gallant De Ruyter had his left - foot carried away, and a few moments afterwards his right leg was - shattered by a shell. Writhing with pain, and covered with blood, the - brave sailor remained on deck, and issued his orders, even to the - bitter end of the battle. It was only when he became aware that five - of his vessels, including his own, were about to fall into the hands - of the enemy, that he could be prevailed upon to give the word for - retreat. Favoured by the approaching darkness, he made the port of - Syracuse, and in that town he died of his wounds. His heart was - carried to Amsterdam, where the States-General caused a noble - mausoleum to be erected to the memory of this brave and patriotic - commander. His name is still venerated in his native country. - - The King of Spain sent De Ruyter the title of Duke, but the patent did - not arrive till after his death, and his children wisely refrained - from pressing any claim to rank, which would have been incongruous in - a Republic; and they were more proud of their father’s simple name - than of any foreign and alien dignity. Louis XIV. expressed his regret - for the death of this brave commander in public, and when reminded - that he had lost a dangerous enemy, he replied generously, ‘I always - mourn the death of a great and brave man.’ A medal was struck in - honour of Admiral de Ruyter, and the following distich was written on - his name:— - - ‘Terruit Hispanos Ruyter, _ter_ _ter_ruit Anglos, - _Ter_ ruit Gallos, _ter_ritus ipse ruit.’ - - It will not be necessary that the reader should be a scholar to enable - _her_ to perceive the anagrammatic and punning nature of these lines, - but we subjoin a very ingenious rendering of the same, done into - English by a friend in what he terms ‘a free-and-easy translation’— - - ‘Ruyter thrice the Spaniards routed, - Daunted thrice the British foe, - Thrice o’ercame the Gallic squadrons, - Struck his flag, and went below.’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE, AFTERWARDS WILLIAM III. OF ENGLAND. - - _In armour. His hand resting on a black and white dog. Helmet lying on - the table._ - - DIED 1702. - - BY WISSING. - - - HE was the son of William of Nassau, Prince of Orange (and grandson of - Henry Frederic, the Stadtholder), by Princess Mary, daughter of - Charles I. of England. He married, in 1677, Mary, daughter of James - II., and in 1688 came over to England, and ascended the throne as King - Consort. He left no children. - - - ------------------ - - - _No.3._ - - ANTHONY ASHLEY COOPER, FIRST EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. - - _Fawn-coloured Chancellor’s robes. Wig. Sitting in an arm-chair._ - - BORN 1621, DIED 1683. - - BY GREENHILL. - - - SON of Sir John Cooper of Rockbourne, county Hants, by Anne, daughter - and sole heir of Sir Anthony Ashley, Bart., of Wimborne St. Giles, - county Dorset, where the future Chancellor was born. - - In his Autobiography he describes his mother of ‘low stature,’ as was - also the aforesaid Sir Anthony, ‘a large mind, but his person of the - lowest,’ while his own father was ‘lovely and graceful in mind and - person, neither too high nor too low,’ therefore the pigmy body of - which Dryden speaks must have been inherited from the maternal side. - - Sir Anthony was delighted with his grandson; and although at the time - of the infant’s birth the septuagenarian was on the point of espousing - a young wife, his affection was in nowise diminished for his daughter, - or her boy. - - Lady Cooper and her father died within six months of each other. Sir - John married again, a daughter of Sir Charles Morrison, of Cassiobury, - county Herts, by whom he had several children. He died in 1631, - leaving the little Anthony bereft of both parents, with large but - much-encumbered estates, and lawsuits pending. - - Many of his own relations being most inimical to his interests, - Anthony went with his brother and sister to reside with Sir Daniel - Norton, one of his trustees, who—we once more quote the - Autobiography—‘took me to London, thinking my presence might work some - compassion on those who ought to have been my friends.’ - - He refers to the suit in which they were now engaged. The boy must - have had a winning way with him (as the old saying goes), for, - when only thirteen, he went of his own accord to Noy, the - Solicitor-General, and entreated his assistance as the friend of - his grandfather. Noy was deeply touched, took up the case warmly, - and gained one suit in the Court of Wards, stoutly refusing to - take any fee whatever. - - After Sir Daniel Norton’s death, Anthony went to live with an uncle, - Mr. Tooker, near Salisbury, though it was supposed Lady Norton would - gladly have kept him under her roof, with a view to a match with one - of her daughters. He says himself: ‘Had it not been for the state of - my litigious fortune, the young lady’s sweet disposition had made me - look no farther for a wife.’ - - In 1637 he went to Exeter College, Oxford, where he ‘made such rapid - strides in learning as to be accounted the most prodigious youth in - the whole University.’ By his own showing, he was popular with his - companions and well satisfied with himself,—indeed, a general spirit - of self-complacency pervades these pages. In little more than a year - he went to Lincoln’s Inn, where he appears to have found the theatres, - fencing galleries, and the like, more to his taste than the study of - the law. - - An astrologer who was in old Sir Anthony’s house at the time of the - grandson’s birth cast the horoscope, and to the fulfilment of these - predictions may probably be attributed young Anthony’s own - predilection for the study of astrology in later days. The horoscope - in question foreboded feuds and trouble at an early age; and some - years afterwards the same magician, foreseeing through the medium of - the planets that a certain Miss Roberts (a neighbour without any - apparent prospect of wealth) would become a great heiress, he - endeavoured to persuade his pupil to marry her. The lady did - eventually come into a considerable fortune; but Mr. Tooker, who was - not over-credulous, had other views at the time for his nephew; and - accordingly, at eighteen, Ashley Cooper became the husband of - Margaret, the daughter of my Lord Keeper Coventry, ‘a woman of - excellent beauty and incomparable gifts.’ - - The young couple resided with the bride’s father in London, Sir - Anthony, as he now was, paying flying visits to Dorsetshire. He was - subject to fits, but even this infirmity redounded to his advantage, - according to his own version; how that being in Gloucestershire on one - occasion, and taken suddenly ill, ‘the women admired his courage and - patience under suffering,’ and he contrived to ingratiate himself with - the electors of Tewkesbury to some purpose. - - He gives us an amusing and characteristic description of how he won - the favour of the electors and bailiffs of this town by his conduct at - a public dinner, where he and a certain Sir Henry Spiller were guests, - and sat opposite each other. The knight, a crafty, perverse, rich man, - a Privy Councillor, had rendered himself very obnoxious in the - hunting-field, and, at the banquet aforementioned, began the dinner - with all the affronts and dislikes he could possibly put on the - bailiffs and their entertainment, which enraged and disgusted them, - and this rough raillery he continued. ‘At length I thought it my duty - to defend the cause of those whose bread I was eating, which I did - with so good success, sparing not the bitterest retorts, that I had a - complete victory. This gained the townsmen’s hearts, and their wives’ - to boot. I was made free of the town, and at the next Parliament - (though absent at the time), was chosen burgess by an unanimous vote, - and that without a penny charge.’ - - Sir Anthony had strange humours: he loved a frolic dearly. He had a - confidential servant who resembled him so much that, when dressed in - his master’s left-offs, the lackey was often mistaken for his better. - This worthy was a clever man-milliner, and had many small - accomplishments which made him popular in country houses, and his - master confesses that he often listened to the valet’s gossip, and - made use of it, in the exercise of palmistry and fortune-telling, - which produced great jollity, and ‘of which I did not make so bad a - use as many would have done.’ With this account he finishes the record - of his youth. A time of business followed, ‘and the rest of my life is - not without great mixture of public concerns, and intermingled with - the history of the times.’ - - Sir Anthony sat for Tewkesbury in 1639, but that Parliament was - hastily dissolved. He raised a regiment of horse for the King’s - service, and occupied places of trust in his own county; but, - believing himself unjustly treated and slighted by the Court, he - listened to the overtures of the Parliament, and returned to - Dorsetshire as colonel of a regiment in their army. - - In 1649 he lost the wife he dearly loved, to whose memory he pays a - most touching tribute in his Diary. But she left no living child, and - before the expiration of the year the widower had espoused Lady - Frances Cecil, daughter of the Earl of Exeter, a Royalist. - - The friendship of the Protector and Sir Anthony was of a most fitful - and spasmodic nature,—now fast allies, now at daggers drawn. Some - writers affirm that, on the death of his second wife, he asked the - hand of one of Cromwell’s daughters; others, that he advised the - Protector to assume the Crown, who offered it to him in turn! - - He held many appointments under the reigning Government, and continued - to sit in Parliament; but having, with many other Members, withstood - the encroachments of the great man, Oliver endeavoured to prevent his - return, and, not being able to do so, forbade him to enter the House - of Commons. (See the history of the times.) The Members, with Ashley - Cooper at their head, insisted on re-admittance. Again ousted, again - admitted; nothing but quarrels and reconciliations. The fact was, that - Sir Anthony was too great a card to lose hold of entirely. He had - still a commission in the Parliamentary army, and a seat at the Privy - Council, circumstances that in nowise prevented him carrying on a - correspondence with the King ‘over the water.’ Indeed, he was accused - of levying men for the Royal service; arrested, acquitted; sat again - in Parliament under Richard Cromwell, joined the Presbyterian party to - bring back Charles, and when the Parliament declared for the King, Sir - Anthony was one of the twelve Members sent over to Breda to invite his - return. While in Holland, Ashley Cooper had a fall from his carriage, - and a narrow escape of being killed. Clarendon (there was no love lost - between them) says it was hoped that by his alliance (as his third - wife) with a daughter of Lord Spencer of Wormleighton, a niece of the - Earl of Southampton, ‘his slippery humour would be restrained by his - uncle.’ - - He now took a leading part in politics, was appointed one of the - Judges of the Regicides, created Baron Ashley at the Coronation, and - afterwards became Chancellor of the Exchequer, Under-Treasurer, and - further high offices, and in 1672 Lord Cooper of Pawlett, county - Somerset, and Earl of Shaftesbury; and so quickly did honours rain on - him, that the same year saw him Lord High Chancellor of England. He - appears to have given great umbrage to many of the law officers by his - haughty bearing. We are told ‘he was the gloriousest man alive; he - said he would teach the bar that a man of sense was above all their - forms; and that he was impatient to show them he was a superior judge - to all who had ever sat before on the marble chair.’ - - He maddened the gentlemen of the long robe by his vagaries and - innovations, and defiance of precedents. He wore an ash-coloured gown - instead of the regulation black, assigning as his reason that black - was distinctive of the barrister-at-law, and he had never been called - to the bar. - - He went to keep Hilary term ‘on a horse richly caparisoned, his grooms - walking beside him,’ all his officers ordered to ride on horseback, - ‘as in the olden time.’ - - No doubt the good Dorsetshire country gentleman, the lover of sport - and of horse-flesh, who had been accused of regaling his four-footed - favourites on wine and cheese-cakes, had a mischievous pleasure in - seeing the uneasy and scared looks of his worshipful brethren, some of - whom perhaps had never sat on a saddle till that day. - - At all events, poor Judge Twisden was laid in the dust, and he swore - roundly no Lord Chancellor should ever reduce him to such a plight - again. Shaftesbury lived at this time in great pomp at Exeter House, - in the Strand, and was in high favour with his Royal master, who - visited him at Wimborne St. Giles during the Plague, when the Court - was at Salisbury. - - At Oxford, when Parliament sat, he made acquaintance with the - celebrated John Locke, who afterwards became an inmate of his patron’s - house, his tried friend, and medical adviser. - - The situations of public employment which Shaftesbury obtained for - this eminent man were, unfortunately, in the end, the source of - difficulty and distress rather than advantage. The history of the - Cabal, of which he was the mainspring, and of which he formed the - fourth letter (Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley, Lauderdale), - would suffice for his biography during the five years of its life. But - it must never be forgotten that to Shaftesbury England owes the - passing of the Habeas Corpus Bill, as likewise one for making judges - independent of the Crown. - - The reader must seek elsewhere, and elect for himself, whether - Shaftesbury was or was not guilty of all the plots and conspiracies - against King and country of which he has been accused. To the Duke of - York he made himself most obnoxious. He was instrumental in - establishing the Test Act, which made Roman Catholics ineligible for - public offices; he was, moreover, the champion of the Exclusion Bill, - and opposed James’s marriage with Mary of Modena; and there is little - doubt that the Duke did all to undermine Shaftesbury’s favour with the - King. - - There was always an element of humour mixed up with his doings, even - when fortune frowned on him. Finding that the King meant to unseat him - from the Woolsack, and that his successor was already named, he sought - the Royal presence. The King was about to proceed to chapel. The - fallen favourite told Charles he knew what his Majesty’s intentions - were, but he trusted he was not to be dismissed with contempt. ‘Cod’s - fish, my lord,’ replied the easy-going monarch, ‘I will not do it with - any circumstances that may look like a slight,’ upon which the - ex-Minister asked permission to carry the Great Seals of Office for - the last time before the King into chapel, and then to his own house - till the evening. - - Granted permission, Shaftesbury, with a smiling countenance, entered - the sacred building, and spoiled the devotions of all his enemies, - during that service at least. Lord Keeper Finch, who was to succeed - him, was at his wit’s end, believing Shaftesbury reinstated, and all - (and there were many) who wished his downfall were in despair. - - The whole account is most amusing and characteristic, including the - manner in which the Seals were actually resigned, but we have not - space to say more. Shaftesbury was indeed now ‘out of suits with - fortune.’ In 1677 he, with other noblemen, was committed to the Tower - for contempt of the authority of Parliament, and although other - prisoners were soon liberated, he was kept in confinement thirteen - months. On regaining his freedom he was made Lord President of the - Council, but, opposing the Duke of York’s succession, was dismissed - from that post in a few months. In 1681 he was again apprehended, on - false testimony, and once more sent to the Tower on charge of treason, - and that without a trial. - - His papers were searched, but nothing could be found against him - except one document, ‘neither writ nor signed by his hand.’ The jurors - brought in the bill ‘Ignoramus,’ which pleased the Protestant portion - of the community, who believed the Earl suffered in the cause of - religion. - - Bonfires were kindled in his honour; one of the witnesses against him - narrowly escaped from the fury of the mob; a medal was struck to - commemorate his enlargement. Hence the poem of that name from the pen - of Dryden, suggested by the King. On regaining his liberty, - Shaftesbury went to reside at his house in Aldersgate Street, when, - finding his enemies were still working against him, he took the - friendly advice of Lord Mordaunt, and after lying _perdu_ in another - part of London for a night or two, he set off for Harwich, _en route_ - for Holland, with a young relative, both disguised as Presbyterian - ministers, with long black perukes. Adverse winds detained them at a - small inn, when one day the landlady entered the elder gentleman’s - room, and, carefully shutting the door, told him that the chambermaid - had just been into his companion’s apartment, and instead of a - swarthy, sour-faced dominie, had found a beautiful fair-haired youth. - ‘Be assured, sir,’ said the good woman, ‘that I will neither ask - questions, nor tell tales, but I cannot answer for a young girl’s - discretion.’ - - The man who had been so hunted of late was touched, thanked the good - soul, and bade his handsome young friend make love to the maid, till - the wind changed. - - The fugitives, however, had an extra run for it, as it was, for the - hounds were on their track. Fortunately the capture of one of - Shaftesbury’s servants, dressed like his master, gave them time to - embark. - - They arrived at Amsterdam after a stormy passage, where Shaftesbury - hired a large house, with the intention of remaining some time, and - all the more that he found himself treated with great respect by all - the principal inhabitants. But misfortune pursued him. He was seized - with gout in the stomach, and expired on the 1st of January 1683. His - body was conveyed to England, and landed at Poole, whither the - gentlemen of his native county flocked, uninvited, to pay a tribute to - his memory, by attending the remains to Wimborne St. Giles. - - We leave the sentence to be pronounced on the first Earl of - Shaftesbury to wiser heads than ours, but one remark we feel - authorised to make,—that we are not called on to believe him as black - as Dryden has painted him, since we cannot but question the justice of - the pen that described Charles II. as the God-like David, in the - far-famed poem of ‘Absalom (the Duke of Monmouth) and Achitophel’ - (Shaftesbury), which loads the latter with invective:— - - ‘A name to all succeeding ages curst, - For close designs and crooked counsels fit, - Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit, - Restless, unfixed in principles and place, - In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace; - A fiery soul, which working out its way, - Fretted the pigmy body to decay.... - Great wits are sure to madness close allied;... - Oh! had he been content to serve the Crown - With virtues only proper to the gown,’ etc. etc. - - There spoke the Laureate, and woe indeed to the man who had such a - poet as Dryden for his censor! Yet for all this abuse, which he had - written to order, Dryden could not help bearing testimony as follows:— - - ‘Yet fame deserved no enemy can grudge, - The Statesman we abhor, but praise the Judge; - In Israel’s courts ne’er sate an Abbethdin - With more discerning eyes or hands more clean, - Unbribed, unsought, the wretched to redress, - Swift of despatch, and easy of access.’ - - Lord Shaftesbury was kind and charitable to the poor in his - neighbourhood, and was very hospitable. In 1669 Cosimo de’ Medici, - being in England, went to St. Giles’s, and was so much pleased with - his reception, that he kept up a correspondence with his English - friend, and sent him annually a present of Tuscan wine. It has been - adduced by some, in evidence of his immorality, that on one occasion, - while still in favour with Charles, the King said to him, ‘I believe, - Shaftesbury, you are the greatest profligate in England.’ The Earl - bowed low, and replied, ‘For a subject, sire, I believe I am.’ It - would be hard to condemn a man on the testimony of a repartee. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - WILLIAM, FIRST EARL COWPER, FIRST LORD CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN. - - _In Chancellor’s robes._ - - BORN 1664, DIED 1723. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - ------------------ - - _No. 5._ - - JOHN, FIRST LORD SOMMERS, LORD CHANCELLOR. - - _Violet velvet coat. Lace cravat. Fall wig._ - - BORN 1652, DIED 1716. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - THE fine old cathedral city of Worcester is so justly proud of its - noble citizen, the first Lord Sommers, that different districts - have contested the honour of his birthplace; but the best evidence - goes to prove that he was born at his father’s estate of Whiteladies, - which at that period was not included in the precincts of the city. - - The house was a dissolved Carthusian nunnery, and had been granted to - the Sommers family at the time of the Reformation. - - For two generations before the birth of Lord Sommers, the name - was spelled without the final _s_, which probably gave rise to the - supposition that it had a common origin with that of Van Somer, the - famous Flemish painter. On the other hand, some writers contend that - the name was derived from a St. Omer, as in the case of St. Maur, St. - Leger, and the like. - - Be this as it may, they undoubtedly claimed kinship with the gallant - admiral, Sir George Somers, who rediscovered the island (or rather the - cluster of islands) of Bermuda, so called after one Juan Bermudez, - ‘who was driven thereon by force of tempest.’ The place did not enjoy - a good reputation; it was termed ‘the island of divelles,’ or the - ‘enchanted isle,’ and was supposed to harbour sea-monsters, mermen, - and ‘such cattle,’ from which legend doubtless sprang Setebos and - Caliban. Admiral Somers was also wrecked here, and thus rediscovered - the whereabouts which had been lost; and he was most desirous it - should bear his name, and so it is still called Bermuda or Somers’ - (erroneously Summer’s) island. - - Purchas, in his _Pilgrimage_, gives a long description of the - abundance of sea-fowl, on which the shipwrecked mariners feasted, and - of the wonderful tameness of the birds,—for Somers might have said - with Alexander Selkirk:— - - ‘They are so unaccustomed to man, - Their tameness is shocking to me.’ - - Purchas goes on to say, ‘Notwithstanding the wonted danger, you may - now touch at Bermuda, for danger hath made it not so dangerous:’ after - the fashion of many another peril that calls for precautionary - measures. - - Waller, in his didactic poem on the beauties of this region, forgets - to do honour to the gallant old ‘salt,’ who was as well known for his - daring rejoinder to King James I. as for his nautical adventures; it - was when subjected to one of the tyrant’s manifold acts of injustice. - ‘I hope I may be the last of sacrifices in your time. When from - private appetite it is resolved that a creature shall be sacrificed, - it is easy to pick up sticks enough from any thicket, whither it has - strayed, to make a fire to offer it with.’ - - The immediate ancestors of the Lord Chancellor had been settled for - some time on a small estate in Gloucestershire, called Stoke Severne, - and they also owned the ‘Whiteladies,’ then a suburb of Worcester. - Here, in 1585, the family entertained Queen Elizabeth, in her progress - through Worcestershire, and although the Sommerses afterwards - imbibed republican principles, the bed in which good Queen Bess lay, - and the cup out of which she drank, were long preserved as precious - relics in the family. - - Queen Elizabeth was much pleased with her reception at the - Whiteladies, and indeed at Worcester altogether. More especially was - her Grace’s fancy taken by a conceit of Master Sommers, who - caused a splendid pear-tree, loaded with fruit, to be transplanted - from his own garden to the market-place in the town, as a decoration, - at the time of the Queen’s public reception,—in remembrance of which - Elizabeth granted an augmentation to the arms of the city, in the - shape of three pears, as may be seen to this day. - - Master Sommers, the father of the future Peer, had been bred up - to the law, and practised as an attorney, but, when the civil war - broke out, in opposition to the majority of his fellow-citizens, he - took part with the Roundheads, and raised a troop of horse to serve - under Cromwell. He was for some time quartered at Upton, near his own - estate of Stoke Severne, the parish church of which he frequented. - - Now the Rector was a Royalist, and a firm upholder of Divine right, - and he was very apt to mix political with theological arguments in his - sermons. Captain Sommers had constantly warned him against so - doing, but in vain; and one Sunday the good parson indulged in so much - abuse of the Cromwell men as to raise the ire of the Parliamentarian - officer, who, drawing forth a loaded pistol, lodged a shot in the - sounding-board above his reverence’s head. - - In spite of all this, King Charles passed the night previous to the - battle of Worcester, and that following, at the Whiteladies, where, - after ‘shifting himself’ into a disguise, he left his trunk hose, his - garters, and two pairs of fringed gloves, to be added to the Royal - Elizabethan relics. Lord Campbell remarks that a species of sanctity - had been attached to the Whiteladies by both parties, since the - building was spared, when almost every other edifice was destroyed; - but Nash, the county historian, accounts for the circumstance by - saying that the soldiers spared the house on account of its being a - strong building, capable of holding 500 men with safety. - - Not many days after the King’s flight, Captain Sommers brought - his wife, Mistress Catherine (whose maiden name was Ceaverne, a native - of Shropshire), to this stronghold, she being at the time in an - interesting condition for the second time, having already presented - her husband with a daughter; and there, to the best of our belief, was - born, a few months afterwards, the future Lord Chancellor of England, - and the first Peer of the name. Few good stories are told of his - boyhood, excepting one which was probably very much prized in the home - archives, and is remembered till this day, as an omen of his future - greatness. He was on a visit to his aunt, Mistress Bluron, the wife of - a Presbyterian minister, with whom he was walking hand-in-hand amid - the glories of her poultry-yard, when a beautiful roost-cock lighted - on the little fellow’s curly head, and crowed three distinct times - while perched thereon. No less honour than the Woolsack could surely - be prognosticated by so splendid an augury! When, in modern times, - could there have been such literal _avium garritus_? - - The boy went to the College School at Worcester, where he became the - favourite model pupil of the master, Dr. Bright, a distinguished - classical scholar. He is described as weakly in health, wearing a - little black cap, but the ‘brightest boy in the whole school, so - studious and contemplative that he did not care for the sports of his - companions, and was usually seen musing alone with a book in his hand - during the hours of recreation.’ He appears to have gone to more than - one other school, and at intervals to have learned the business of an - attorney in his father’s office, the elder Sommers having by - this time resumed the profession to which he was bred before he joined - Cromwell’s army. - - At the time of the Restoration he had solicited, and obtained, a - pardon, under the Great Seal, for his former disaffection to the - Crown, but, ‘being a lawyer,’ says Lord Campbell, ‘he perhaps - remembered Sir Edward Coke’s wise observation, that “good men will - never refuse pardon from God or the King, because every man doth often - offend both.”’ In 1667 young Sommers matriculated, and was - entered at Trinity College, Oxford, but apparently only remained there - a short time, and did not take his degree. While at the University he - showed more predilection for the study of the _belles lettres_ than - for that of law, in spite of which his father insisted on his becoming - his clerk at Whiteladies. The picturesque old place was now not only - inhabited by Sommers, the well-to-do solicitor, and his wife and - children, but it had been converted into a species of colony, and was - peopled by several families connected, for the most part, with the - owner, either by blood or marriage. Some of the occupants were engaged - in the cultivation of the large farm adjoining, others in producing - all kinds and colours for dyeing materials, or manufacturing cloth, - which trade was at that time in a flourishing condition in Worcester; - and, above all, in making bricks and tiles for rebuilding the ruined - city and suburbs. The latter calling gave rise to the epithet by which - the scurrilous libellers of later days thought (vainly) to lower the - pride of the great Lord Sommers, by calling him the brickmaker’s - son! When the multifarious labours of the day were at an end, the - various inhabitants, occasionally augmented by outside guests, met, to - the number of twenty or thirty, round the table, in the old refectory - of the nunnery, where the produce of the farm and gardens afforded - them a plentiful and inexpensive banquet. John Sommers, senior, - had great influence in electioneering matters, and also received and - entertained at his house many persons of weight and influence,—among - others, Sir Francis Winnington, a rising lawyer, and Member for the - city, afterwards Solicitor-General. The good knight was much impressed - by young John’s talents, and recommended that he should pursue the - study of the law, in which profession, he remarked, many - Worcestershire men had risen to eminence. It took some time to - persuade the father to send his son away from the establishment, which - was growing more lucrative every day, but at length he yielded to the - wish of Sir Francis, and entered his son as student of the Middle - Temple, 1669. The youth returned, however, and read law at Whiteladies - for a year before settling in the Temple, and, both at Worcester and - in London, he benefited by the friendship and tuition of his good - friend Sir Francis. His circle of acquaintance in London was, at - first, limited almost exclusively to lawyers, and amongst his - intimates was Sir Joseph Jekyll, afterwards his brother-in-law. - - But the young Templar returned for his vacations to Worcester - (although the society did not much suit his taste) until the year - 1672, when he met a genial spirit at Whiteladies. His father was agent - for the estates of several noblemen, and, among others, of the young - Earl of Shrewsbury, son to the unfortunate Peer who had been killed in - a duel with the Duke of Buckingham,—his shameless wife, at least so - goes the tradition, holding her lover’s horse while he murdered her - husband. - - Grafton, the estate of the Shrewsburys, was at that time out of - repair, and the young Earl gladly accepted an invitation to - Whiteladies, and no sooner did our Templar come down from London for - his usual visit, than the two youths formed a friendship which proved - lifelong. They became inseparable companions, both in their studies - and their recreations, and the intimacy continued when they returned - to London. Lord Shrewsbury took a delight in introducing Sommers - to the most distinguished men of his acquaintance, whether remarkable - for birth or learning. John Sommers, becoming aware of his own - deficiency in education, resolved to return to the University, where - he made the Classics his more especial study, without neglecting his - legal pursuits, or giving up his visits to home. It speaks well for - the liberality both of father and son, that John was able and willing - to contribute five pounds (a large sum for a student in those days) - towards the reparation of the chapel; and in after years and better - circumstances he gave a larger donation for the same purpose, as a - proof of his attachment to his old College. We are told rather a - laughable story, which shows in what high repute he was held by his - father, who, in his frequent visits to London, used to leave his horse - at the George Inn at Acton, and in conversing with the landlord seldom - omitted a panegyric on ‘young John,’—so much so, that mine host’s - curiosity was inflamed, and he requested to be allowed some day to see - this prodigy. Mr. Sommers, in consequence, asked his son one - time to escort him on his way as far as Acton, and on entering the - inn, he took the landlord aside, and whispered, ‘I have brought him, - Cobbett, but you must not talk to him as you do to me, for he will not - suffer such fellows as you in his company.’ - - John Sommers, junior, was called to the bar in 1666, but did not - practise much till five years afterwards; and it was on the occasion - of the famous trial of the seven Bishops that he first made his mark. - Macaulay, in his eloquent account of the transaction, does honour to - the rising barrister. He gives an animated description of the progress - of these stout-hearted Prelates on their committal to the Tower, to - await their trial, of which we give a short extract: ‘The river was - alive with wherries when they came forth under a guard to embark, and - the emotion of the people broke through all restraint. Thousands fell - on their knees and prayed for the men who had emulated the Christian - courage of Ridley and Latimer; many dashed into the water up to their - waists, and cried on the holy fathers to bless them. All down the - stream, from Whitehall to London Bridge, the royal barge passed - between lines of boats, whence arose a shout of “God bless your - Lordships!”’ - - John Sommers had been chosen as junior counsel for the Bishops - on the trial. He had not yet had much opportunity of distinguishing - himself in public, ‘but his genius, industry, his great and various - accomplishments, were well known to a small circle of friends, and in - spite of his Whig opinions, his pertinent and lucid mode of arguing, - and the constant propriety of his demeanour, had already secured to - him the ear of the Court of King’s Bench, and it was said of him - beforehand that no man in Westminster Hall was so well qualified to - treat an historical and constitutional question.’ - - Even while endeavouring to keep within our prescribed limits, we feel - it is but simple justice to the future Chancellor to quote the great - historian’s own words: ‘Sommers rose last. He spoke little more - than five minutes, but every word was full of weighty matter, and when - he sat down his reputation as an orator and a constitutional lawyer - was established. The jury were long in coming to a decision, but when - they did return, and the foreman pronounced the verdict—“Not - guilty”—amid deathless silence, a tempest of rejoicing arose. Lord - Halifax threw up his hat, and ten thousand people who crowded the Hall - made the oaken roof crack with shouts, which, echoed by the throng - outside, resounded as far as Temple Bar, and were caught up and sent - back by all the boatmen on the river. The acquittal was mainly - attributed to Sommers’s speech, the effect of which upon the - jury was greatly heightened by the modesty and grace with which it was - delivered. He now, and ever, merited the praise that his pleading at - the bar was masculine and persuasive, free from everything that was - trivial and affected.’ - - Amid the solemn details of this most important trial, the comic - element cropped up in a speech of one of the jurymen, a Nonconformist, - who was brewer to the Court. The story goes that he complained - bitterly of the dilemma in which he was placed. ‘What am I to do?’ he - asked piteously; ‘if I say Not guilty, I shall brew no more for the - Court; if I say Guilty, I shall brew no more for anybody else.’ On the - same day that the Bishops were acquitted, a paper was drawn up, - entitled ‘The Association,’ censuring the Government of King James - II., and calling on William, Prince of Orange, to come over to - England, and deliver the country from Popery and despotism. The name - of Sommers did not appear, but by many it was believed that the - wording of the document emanated from him. It was signed by all his - political friends, and Lord Shrewsbury immediately afterwards went to - the Hague, laden with large supplies of money, to urge on the Prince - the advisability of his coming over without delay. William answered by - a ‘Declaration,’ announcing his readiness (as the husband of the - Princess Mary) to accede to the wishes of the nation, and promised to - proceed to England, ‘in order to have a free and lawful Parliament - assembled for the maintenance of liberty and the Protestant religion, - and by the decision of that Parliament he would abide.’ - - This document also was ascribed to Sommers, or at all events it - was said to have been supervised by him, for he had by this time, to - quote the words of Lord Sunderland, become the ‘very soul and spirit - of his party.’ No sooner had King James left the country than - Sommers was returned for his native city, having refused to sit - in the former Parliaments under the two last Kings. - - This was in the so-called ‘Convention Parliament;’ and we give - Macaulay’s notice of the new Member’s first appearance in the House of - Commons. After enumerating the names of many political veterans, he - says: ‘But they were speedily thrown into shade by two young Whigs, - who, on this great day, took their seats for the first time, and soon - rose to the highest honours of the State, who weathered the fiercest - storms of faction together, and, having been long and widely renowned - as statesmen, as orators, and as munificent patrons of genius and - learning, died within a few months of each other. These were Charles - Montagu and John Sommers.’ - - The latter led the debate in the Lower House, and in his maiden - speech, which was considered a model of eloquence, he maintained that - James, by his flight and abdication, had forfeited all claim to - allegiance, and he drew up a manifesto to that effect, declaring the - throne of England to be vacant. - - He was thus most instrumental in the passing of the Exclusion Bill, - which precluded the succession of a Popish Prince to the Crown of - England. In all the differences of opinion which now ensued between - the two Houses, John Sommers zealously supported the claims of - William and Mary. He also gained lasting renown by the declaration - that he drew up for classing under general heads ‘such things as were - necessary for the better security of our religion, laws, and - liberties.’ Hence sprang the world-famed Bill of Rights, with which - the name of John Sommers is indissolubly connected. William and - Mary were proclaimed King and Queen; Lord Shrewsbury made his friend, - and that friend’s merits, known to the new Sovereigns; and Sir John - Sommers, Knight, was appointed Solicitor-General. He now took a - prominent part in every public question of importance, evincing the - utmost consistency in his opinions and principles; and his biographer - and earnest admirer, Lord Campbell, appears never to have found fault - with his administration of justice, excepting in one instance, namely, - the course he pursued with regard to a Bill for regulating high - treason—a question we leave to judicial minds. But the same pen awards - him great praise for the manner in which he conducted prosecutions - before Courts of Justice, which he designates as ‘mild, candid, and - merciful.’ Speaking of the trial of Lord Preston and others for high - treason (the first State trial of the reign), in which his moderation - and humanity were universally extolled, Sommers himself said: ‘I - did never think that it was the part of any, who were counsel for the - King in cases of this nature, to aggravate the crime of the prisoners, - or to put false colours on the evidence.’ - - Indeed, the manner in which these trials were conducted formed an - epoch in legal annals, contrasting brilliantly with the injustice and - cruelty which had characterised former tribunals. Lord Preston, though - found guilty, and sentenced to death, owed his respite and subsequent - pardon to the recommendation of Sir John Sommers. - - When war was declared with France, it was the Solicitor-General who - drew up the declaration; and in 1692 he was promoted to the office of - Attorney-General, and shortly afterwards chosen counsel for the - plaintiff in the first trial for criminal conversation, _i.e._ the - Duke of Norfolk _versus_ Sir John Germaine. But the divorce was not - granted till after Sommers became Chancellor. In 1693 he was - again returned for Worcester, and a few days afterwards the Great Seal - of England was intrusted to his keeping, and he took his seat at the - Council Board. Evelyn thus records the event: ‘The Attorney-General - Sommers made Lord Keeper, a young lawyer of extraordinary - merit.’ - - The appointment (with the exception, naturally, of adverse - politicians) was generally popular. Burnet says: ‘Sommers is - very learned in his own profession, with a great deal more learning in - other professions,—divinity, philosophy, and history.’ - - He had great capacity for business, a fair and gentle temper, having - all the patience and softness, as well as the justice and equity, - becoming a great magistrate. He had always agreed in his notions with - the Whigs, and had striven to bring them to better thoughts of the - King, and greater confidence in him. During the seven years he - presided in the Court of Chancery he won golden opinions, having most - important judicial duties to perform, and acting on several occasions - as Lord Steward in State trials. A close friendship now existed - between the King and Sommers, but the latter knew how to uphold - both his personal and official dignity, which he proved in a most - remarkable manner at the beginning of this reign, in a passage of arms - that occurred between his Royal master and himself. During the time - that the Seal was in commission, his Majesty had exercised unlimited - judicial patronage, and conceived the idea of continuing to do so, - unquestioned. He was on the eve of embarking for Flanders at the time - of Sommers’s appointment, and he sent Lord Nottingham to the new - Minister, with orders to make out patents for the Chief Baron of the - Exchequer, the Chief-Justice of Chester, and for the Attorney-General. - This cavalier manner of proceeding did not suit Sir John - Sommers, and as the King was still detained at Harwich, waiting - for favourable winds, he wrote a respectful but resolute letter to his - Majesty on the subject, pointing out, in clear, distinct terms, that, - under the conditions imposed on him, he must tender his - resignation—_Anglicè_, he would not accept a post shorn of all - judicial patronage. The King responded nobly to this straightforward - appeal, declined the resignation, paid the Lord Keeper the highest - tribute as to ability and fitness for the great office, announced his - intention of non-interference for the future, but ended by the hope - that Sommers would take the names of the candidates already - mentioned into consideration. - - In fact, this short misunderstanding increased and cemented the - cordiality between King and Minister. The three men William had named - were continued, but the office of Attorney-General soon after falling - vacant, was filled up by a nominee of Sommers’s own selection. - Although he declined the offer of a Peerage, he sat in the House of - Lords as Speaker, and exercised a weighty influence over William’s - opinions. On the subject of ‘unlicensed printing,’ the liberal King - and the liberal Minister were agreed, and the Bill was passed by - which, says Macaulay, ‘English literature was emancipated for ever.’ - - It was strange how little excitement was caused by so great an event. - Neither Evelyn nor Luttrell allude to it in their Diaries, and the - Dutch Minister forgot to mention it in his despatches. - - However, from this time forth, the liberty of the Press was assured; - and ‘now we have only to be watchful,’ Lord Campbell sapiently - remarks, ‘lest the Press itself be not turned into an engine of - tyranny.’ - - In 1690 Queen Mary was attacked with small-pox, and to the - inexpressible grief of her husband, shared by the greater part of the - nation, she died after a very short illness. Friendly messages had - been exchanged between her and her sister, but Mary’s state was too - critical to allow of her being exposed to the excitement of an - interview. When the last scene was over, and the last duties paid to - the beloved Queen and consort, the attempt at reconciling the Princess - of Denmark and her brother-in-law was renewed, and Lord Sunderland, - the Duke of Marlborough, and Sir John Sommers, joined to promote - the wished-for result. Anne had been persuaded to write to the King, - who, stunned by grief, showed little inclination to respond to her - advances. Sommers therefore, bent on carrying out his object, - made his way into the Royal presence at Kensington, where he found - William absorbed in speechless grief. He waited for some time in - respectful sympathy, hoping that the King would break the painful - silence, but was at length compelled to take the initiative. - - With the gentle delicacy that characterised him, the Lord Keeper - broached the subject, pointing out how essential it was, on public as - well as private grounds, that the enmity between his Majesty and his - wife’s sister should cease. ‘Do as you will,’ replied the unhappy - widower, ‘I can think of no business.’ An interview was accordingly - arranged. Anne was graciously received, apartments assigned her in St. - James’s Palace, and due honour paid her as heir-presumptive to the - Crown. William once more pressed a Peerage on Sir John (through his - friend, now Duke of Shrewsbury), but it was again declined. He was - placed virtually at the head of the Regency (the Archbishop of - Canterbury presiding only in name), when the King again left England - for a foreign campaign. - - He took a prominent part in the great measure for the reformation of - the coinage, and drew up and strongly advocated a plan by which - clipping money could be prevented; but this was not carried into - effect. Lord Macaulay praises him highly for the appointments he made - of such eminent men as Sir Isaac Newton and John Locke, for the - respective posts of Warden of the Mint and a Lordship of Trade. - - In 1697 Sir John resigned the Seals, only to have them returned to - him, with the title of Lord Chancellor and Baron Sommers of - Evesham, county Worcester, as also grants of the manors of Reigate and - Howleigh in Surrey, with a yearly income to enable him to keep up the - same. On the retirement of Lord Godolphin, the Ministry became wholly - Whig,—Montagu, Russell, Sommers, and Wharton forming ‘the - Junto.’ In the same year the Peace of Ryswick was signed, by which - France made great concessions, and acknowledged William as King of - England, and Anne as his successor, a circumstance which gave rise to - much rejoicing. But serious differences took place between the King - and his Parliament, which required the disbanding of the troops that - had done such good service in foreign campaigns. The most stormy - discussions ensued, and the press, in all the wild ardour of recent - emancipation, thundered with controversy. To Lord Sommers was - attributed (indeed Macaulay speaks of the authorship as a certainty) a - treatise, called ‘The Balancing Letter,’ which made a great noise at - the time, weighing, as it did, the arguments for and against the - momentous question, but undoubtedly leaning towards the advisability - of maintaining a small standing army. In spite of William’s vehement - opposition, he found himself compelled to ship off his beloved Dutch - Guards, and to diminish the English forces. - - Until this time the life of John Sommers had been uninterrupted - in its prosperity and advancement; but a change in his fortunes was - now impending. Henceforward he had both public and private trials to - encounter, added to which, his health had become much impaired. In - July 1698, Parliament being dissolved, and the King gone to Holland, - Lord Sommers gladly availed himself of the opportunity to - recruit his bodily powers, by drinking the waters in the pleasant - retirement of Tunbridge Wells. The question of the Spanish succession - (Charles II., king of that country, being at the time in a dying - state) belongs rather to the political history of Europe than to the - biography of an individual, yet Lord Sommers was so intimately - connected with the so-called ‘Tradition Treaties,’ that we cannot - altogether keep silence on the matter. Before the King’s departure for - Holland, William had already consulted Sommers on the subject, - and, on arriving at the Loo, he wrote, authorising him to consult with - any of his colleagues, on whose discretion and secrecy he could rely, - and asking for opinions on the arrangement proposed, which his Majesty - detailed at full length. Now such a treaty could not be concluded - without the appendage of the Great Seal and the signature of one - Secretary of State. The Lord Chancellor was therefore directed to send - full powers to the Loo, sealed, but with blanks left for the names of - the Plenipotentiaries; and it was strongly urged that the clerks whose - duty it was to draw up the documents should be kept in profound - ignorance of the subject, and the importance of the work they were - performing. The Royal missive found ‘Sommers at a distance from - his political friends, his delicate frame enfeebled by the labours and - vigils of many months, and his aching head giddy with the first - draughts of the chalybeate spring.’ But he lost no time, and - communicated promptly with all the leading statesmen, who agreed with - the King in wishing to see the question of the Spanish succession - settled without delay. Sommers, however, delicately hinted to - his master that he and his colleagues had misgivings on many points of - the treaty, although the Royal wishes had been complied with. - - The powers were sent off, the enjoined secrecy observed, the blanks - left for the names of two Commissioners, who, the Lord Chancellor - suggested, should be English, either by birth or naturalisation, and - consequently responsible to Parliament. - - A second Partition Treaty was shortly afterwards drawn up and signed, - with fresh clauses and allotments to the different European powers, - with the same secrecy; and when the terms of these treaties became - known in England, a great outcry was raised against the Whigs, and - strenuous efforts made to overthrow the Administration. The Lord - Chancellor, in particular, became the mark for attacks of different - kinds, such as his misconduct in the appointment and dismissal of - magistrates, while a novel charge for the dignitary of the Woolsack - was adduced against John Lord Sommers, namely that of piracy on - the high seas,—not in person, indeed, but by proxy. Thus it came - about: he, in common with other Ministers, had subscribed a sum of - several hundreds towards the fitting out of a ship called _The - Adventure Galley_, for the purpose of ridding the Indian seas of - pirates. The command was given to Captain William Kid, a naval - officer, who had hitherto borne a high character for honour as well as - courage. - - As may easily be believed, Lord Sommers knew nothing of the - matter further than that he thought it became the post he occupied to - assist in such a public service; and a grant was made to all the - undertakers of the scheme that they should become possessed of any - booty taken from the pirates by their ship. Captain Kid was armed with - full powers to sink, burn, and destroy the pirates, but on breathing - the air of the buccaneering seas, he turned pirate himself, and became - a dangerous foe to honest traders of all nations, till, after a sharp - encounter with an English frigate, he was taken, and brought home in - irons. A motion was now brought forward by his (Sommers’s) - political adversaries, that the Lord Chancellor should be made - responsible for all the outrages committed by Kid, with whom, they - affirmed, he had intended to go shares for the purpose of swelling his - own coffers,—‘Such black constructions,’ says Burnet, ‘are men apt to - put on the actions of those whom they intend to disgrace.’ The charge, - being preposterous, was rejected by a large majority. - - A Bill was now brought in to resume the Irish forfeited estates, which - the King had bestowed on his Dutch favourites, and Lord Sommers - incurred both the Royal displeasure and that of the Opposition in - Parliament for his absence during the debates, although he pleaded the - excuse of bad health. William expected assistance from the Chancellor - in opposing this measure, but the public opinion was so strong that - Sommers did not consider it advisable to support his Majesty. - His enemies had now become persistent in their attacks; and a motion - was made in the House of Commons to the effect that ‘the King should - be advised to remove the present Lord Chancellor from his councils for - ever,’ in common with other leading Ministers. - - He had been absent from his duties for some time, in consequence of - failing health, in spite of which the Opposition did all in their - power to induce him to coalesce in the formation of a new Government; - and in answering the overtures made him by Lord Sunderland, - Sommers replied that he considered such a step would be - inconsistent with honour. - - The refusal naturally increased the bitterness of his adversaries, and - Harley especially, who rose in arms against him. - - William, with all his predilection for the Chancellor, was at length - persuaded of the expediency of removing him, and Lord Sommers - received a hint to that effect, ‘which determined him to wait on his - Majesty at Kensington, in order to know his real mind.’ The King told - him plainly that the time had come when it was necessary for the Seals - to pass into other hands, at the same time expressing a wish that - Sommers himself would resign. - - The Chancellor begged his Majesty’s pardon for following the advice of - numerous friends, who had warned him against such a step, which would - be ascribed to guilt or fear; adding that he well knew the designs of - his enemies; that the Great Seal was his greatest crime, and if - permitted to keep it, in spite of their malice, he would do so, being - well aware what a bad use they would make of it. He had no fear of - them, but he would be firm to his friends, with more in that style; - but the King only shook his head, and said, ‘It must be so.’ And thus - was Lord Sommers discharged from the great office which he had - held for so many years, ‘with the highest reputation for capacity, - integrity, and diligence.’ - - Strangely enough, this ever-coveted post was offered to and refused by - several men ‘high in the law,’ possibly from the fear of comparison - with such an illustrious predecessor. The Seals were at length - delivered to Sir Nathan Wright, ‘in whom,’ says Burnet, ‘there was - nothing equal to the post, much less to the man who had lately filled - it.’ - - Wright represented a dark shadow between two such shining lights as - Sommers and Cowper. - - After a short residence at Tunbridge Wells for the benefit of the - waters, the ex-Chancellor retired to his villa, and, resuming his - literary pursuits, strove to forget all the mortification and - humiliation to which he had lately been exposed. Louis XIV., breaking - through the conditions imposed by the Tradition Treaty, took advantage - of a will made by the Spanish king on his deathbed, in which the - imbecile Charles had been made to bequeath his dominions to the French - king’s grandson, Philip of Anjou; and the young prince was despatched - to Madrid with a splendid and exulting Court. A violent outcry ensued - in England against the Whigs, and Lord Sommers in particular, to - whom this public catastrophe was in a great measure attributed. - Parliament was dissolved, and on the reassembling of the new House, - the Commons proposed to impeach the ex-Chancellor for the part he had - taken in concluding these treaties, and for other high crimes and - misdemeanours. Prior thus alludes to the circumstance in writing to - the Duke of Manchester: ‘I congratulate you on being out of this noise - and tumult, where we are tearing and destroying every man his - neighbour. To-morrow is the great day, when we expect my Lord - Chancellor to be fallen upon, though God knows of what crime he is - guilty, but that of being a great man and an upright judge.’ - Sommers begged to be heard in his own defence, and his demeanour - was so dignified, and his explanation so clear, as to enlist many - members on his side, notably Robert Walpole, a young senator, - afterwards Prime Minister, who took the warmest interest in Lord - Sommers’s cause, and voted in his behalf. Notwithstanding, the - motion for the impeachment (with that of four other noblemen) was - carried in the House of Commons—a measure which caused tremendous - indignation in the Upper House, ‘at the infringement of their - privileges;’ while the King’s reply to the Lower House conveyed a - rebuke (though couched in mild terms) for the irregularity of their - proceedings. In spite of King and Peers the impeachment commenced, and - fourteen articles were exhibited against Lord Sommers. The six - first concerned his share in carrying out the Partition Treaties; the - next five accused him of passing illegal grants of Crown property in - his own favour; the thirteenth, of giving a commission to William Kid, - pirate; ‘while the last,’ says Lord Campbell, ‘was a frivolous charge - of judicial delinquency.’ - - A violent altercation now took place between the two Houses of - Parliament regarding the time and manner of the trial, the Whig - element at that time being paramount among the Lords, while the Tories - preponderated in the Commons. So it came to pass, when the Peers were - seated in great state in Westminster Hall, and Lord Sommers - placed within the bar, the Commons were summoned to make good their - indictment, but in vain. A long pause ensued, but not one member - appeared, and after another solemn procession to and from their own - House, their Lordships decided the question by themselves. - - John Lord Sommers was acquitted by a majority of his peers, and - the impeachment dismissed. ‘The following comparison between his - demeanour and that of a former Chancellor, Lord Verulam, on a similar - occasion, is thus drawn by Joseph Addison: ‘The conduct of these - extraordinary persons under the same circumstances was vastly - different. One, as he had given just occasion for his impeachment, - sank under it, and was reduced to such abject submission as diminished - the lustre of so exalted a character. But Lord Sommers was too - well fortified in his integrity to fear the impotence of an attack on - his reputation, and though his accusers would gladly have dropped - their impeachment, he was instant for the prosecution, and would not - let the matter rest till it was brought to an issue.’ - - The two Houses fell to fighting once more, and fierce and bitter - hatred was fostered by the late proceedings. The Duke of Shrewsbury, - Sommers’s early and faithful friend, alluding to these - squabbles, thus writes to him from Rome: ‘I cannot help referring to - my old opinion, and wonder that a man can be found in England, who has - bread, that will be concerned in public business. Had I a son I would - sooner breed him a cobbler than a courtier, and a hangman than a - statesman.’ - - In 1701 James II. died, and Louis XIV. astonished Europe in general, - and England in particular, by recognising the Pretender as King of - England,—a step which even incensed the Jacobites, jealous of foreign - interference, and set the Whig party in a flame. A reaction now took - place in favour of the latter faction: the King dismissed his Tory - Ministers, and it was confidently believed that in the formation of a - new Cabinet Lord Sommers would resume office. But William’s days - were numbered. His health had long been a source of anxiety to his - friends and the nation at large, when a fatal accident hurried the - crisis. He had not yet relinquished his favourite exercise of riding, - and even occasionally hunted, but neither his seat nor his hand was - what it had been. Riding one day through his favourite haunt of the - Home Park at Hampton Court, mounted on ‘Grey Sorrel,’ the horse, - having just broken into a gentle canter, stumbled at a molehill, and - fell on his knees, throwing his rider, who broke his collar-bone, and - otherwise injured himself. The bone was set; William proceeded in his - coach to Kensington, but he never rallied. ‘His last days,’ says his - enthusiastic admirer Macaulay, ‘were worthy of his life.’ He - transacted business calmly, took an affectionate leave of his friends, - joined in prayer with the two Bishops who attended him, and breathed - his last. Round his neck was found, suspended to a black riband, the - locket which contained the hair of his beloved wife. - - In William III. Lord Sommers lost a sincere and admiring friend, - and far different was the treatment he met with from the new - Sovereign. In a combined Ministry of Whigs and Tories, not only had he - no post assigned him, but he was not allowed to renew the oaths of a - Privy Councillor. His name was struck out of the Commission of the - Peace in every county in England, and it was intimated to him that her - Majesty would not admit him to the Royal presence. Anne condescended - to the mean spite of suspending the pension granted to Addison, whose - only crime was that Lord Sommers esteemed and protected him. - Such petty conduct on the part of the Queen called forth no reprisals - from the man who had his country’s welfare at heart. Finding that - Godolphin and Marlborough considered it expedient to adopt the home - and foreign policy which he advocated, Sommers gave his support - to the Government, and was a diligent attendant in the House of Lords. - Indeed, he now divided his time between his Parliamentary duties and - the enjoyment of literary and scientific pursuits. President of the - Royal Society, he continued his friendship with Addison, and exerted - himself unwearyingly in his behalf. Although an ex-Minister, and - slighted by the Court, he still carried great weight in public - measures, especially in the famous case of the Aylesbury election - trial. This was an action brought against the returning officer by a - man who accused him of not recording his vote, and the case coming by - appeal before the Lords, the Commons declared it a breach of - privilege. The warfare between the two Houses was now resumed, and - waged for some time as fiercely as that between France and England. In - 1706 Lord Sommers was most instrumental in negotiating the Union - with Scotland, as, in the fluctuating state of parties, the constant - coalitions and mosaic Governments which were formed, his great talents - were generally recognised in an emergency. The death of Prince George - of Denmark in 1708 brought about further changes, and the presidency - of the Council becoming vacant, Lord Sommers succeeded to the - post. The appointment gave general satisfaction, for, says Burnet, ‘it - was expected that propositions for a general peace would shortly be - made, and so they reckoned that the management of that upon which not - only the safety of the nation, but all Europe, depended, would be in - sure hands. Sommers was a man of inflexible integrity, on whom - neither ill practices nor false colours were like to make any - impression.’ - - He remained President of the Council until the famous trial of Dr. - Sacheverell. Impeached by the Whigs for preaching against them and the - Government, Sacheverell escaped with a light sentence, but the - proceedings were followed by the downfall of the Administration, which - was replaced by one composed entirely of Tories,—Harley, St. John, - etc. - - When the news of the Queen’s dangerous illness became known, - Sommers put himself into communication with the Elector of - Hanover, but the curious scene which took place at the last Privy - Council held in this reign is given in our notice of Lord Chancellor - Cowper, between whom and Lord Sommers a warm friendship had long - existed. On the morning of Sunday, the 1st of August 1714, Queen Anne - expired, and a meeting of the Lords Justices was immediately held. - Lord Sommers was not present, on account of his infirm health, - but he attended the Privy Council, and took the oaths of allegiance to - George I. On the arrival of that monarch in England, and the - reinstatement of the Whigs in office, Sommers would inevitably - have joined the Ministry in his former capacity of Chancellor, but his - increasing indisposition determined him to decline any public post, - even the comparatively light duties of President of the Council having - become irksome to him; but he promised to attend the meetings of the - Privy Council as often as it was possible for him to do so, and he - received an additional pension as a mark of public gratitude. He made - a point of being present at the first council, which was held in - George I.’s reign, but his infirmities gained upon him, and a - paralytic affection incapacitated him from the exertion consequent on - public business. He became torpid and inactive in mind and body; when - a sudden fit of the gout roused him for a time from his lethargy. This - happened at the moment that the Septennial Bill, a measure in which he - had always taken the deepest interest, was pending. His mind - brightened up, his intellect was re-sharpened, and he took to - conversing with his well-named physician, Dr. Friend, on passing - affairs, with all the clearness and vigour of former times. The good - doctor hurried off with the good news to Lord Townshend, one of the - chief promoters of the Bill, who instantly flew to his ancient - colleague to consult him on the subject. On entering the room, the - dying statesman embraced his old friend, cordially congratulated him - on the work in which he was employed (having, he said, never approved - of the Triennial Bill), and ended by assuring him of ‘my hearty - approbation in the business, for I believe it will be the greatest - support possible to the liberty of the country.’ - - When the gout subsided, Lord Sommers fell back into a state of - torpor and helplessness, from which he was released by death on the - 26th of April 1716, the very day the Bill in question was passed. He - died of apoplexy at his villa in Hertfordshire, and was buried in the - parish church of North Mymms, where a plain monument bears this modest - inscription:— - - THE RIGHT HONOURABLE JOHN LORD SOMMERS, - BARON OF EVESHAM, - LORD CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND IN THE REIGN OF - WILLIAM THE THIRD, - TO WHOSE MEMORY THIS MONUMENT WAS ERECTED BY - DAME ELIZABETH JEKYLL. - - The sister who loved and admired him so ardently felt doubtless that - eulogium would be misplaced, and that all who read the name would - recall the virtues, talents, and patriotism of her noble-hearted - brother. Lord John Russell does him ample justice when he says, - ‘Sommers is a bright example of a statesman who could live in - times of revolution without rancour, who could hold the highest posts - in a Court without meanness, who could unite mildness and charity to - his opponents with the firmest attachment to the great principles of - liberty, civil and religious, which he had early espoused, long - promoted, and never abandoned;’ while Mackintosh says, ‘Sommers - seems to have nearly realised the perfect model of a wise statesman in - a free community.’ Notwithstanding the accumulation of professional - and public business which fell to his share, from the day he arrived - in London, he not only found time (as we have observed before) for - literary studies and compositions, but for indulging in the society - and correspondence of distinguished men of letters—foreigners as well - as English. He held the poet Vincenzo Filicaja in high estimation, - which was indeed reciprocal, as a Latin ode written in honour of ‘My - Lord Giovanni Sommers, Cancelliere di Gran Brettagna,’ - testifies. - - Steele, Prior, and Congreve were among his associates. Newton, Locke, - Addison, and Swift were marked out by him for preferment. He was a - noble patron, and rewarded merit wherever he found it, and had it in - his power. Lord Sommers was an exemplary son, and his mother - (who survived her husband many years) had the satisfaction of seeing - ‘little Johnnie’ rise to the highest honours of the State. Addison - vouches for the religious faith of his benefactor, and tells us how - unremitting he was in the performance of his devotional services, both - in public and in his own family. Sommers never married, although - in early life he wooed and won the affections of one Mistress Rawdon, - the daughter of a rich Alderman, who broke off the match on the plea - of the insufficiency of marriage settlements. We feel an inward - conviction that in later days Sir John Rawdon must have repented his - arbitrary decision. The title became extinct at Lord Sommers’s - death, his property being shared by his two sisters, of whom the elder - married Charles Cocks, Esquire of Castleditch, and the younger Sir - John Jekyll, Master of the Rolls, an early friend and fellow-lawyer of - her brother. From Mrs. Cocks descended the late Earl Sommers, to - whom the present imperfect sketch of his ancestor was submitted in - manuscript, but who has not, alas! lived to read it in the completed - form. - - He was indeed a worthy descendant of a great man, and by his death - society at large, and a band of admiring and loving friends, have - sustained an irreparable loss; while on the domestic hearth that light - has been quenched which shed so radiant a glow on all those who - clustered fondly round it. A scholar, an artist, a traveller, a - linguist, the versatility of his information could only be equalled by - the graceful refinement of his wit and the tenderness of his sympathy. - He was one of those rarely gifted men, on whom the mantle of moral and - intellectual qualities sit so easily, that in his genial company no - feeling of inferiority was imposed on others. On the contrary—as the - writer of these lines can testify, from grateful experience,—those who - had the privilege of conversing with him partook for the moment, in - some slight degree, of the brightness and intelligence of his rich - nature. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - FIELD-MARSHAL HENRY DE NASSAU, LORD OF AUVERQUERQUE. - - _In armour, holding a truncheon. Wig. Table in the background._ - - DIED OF HIS WOUNDS 1708. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - HE was the third son of Lewis de Nassau, Lord of Leek, Odyke, - Auverquerque, and Beverwaart, by Elizabeth, daughter of the Count de - Horn. He formed part of William of Orange’s suite when that Prince - came over to England in 1670, and on the occasion of a visit to - Oxford, De Nassau had the degree of D.C.L. conferred upon him. In the - campaigns which ensued in Flanders, he was brother-in-arms to his - cousin and Royal master, and gained general approbation for his - courage and patriotism. When William III. ascended the throne of - England, Auverquerque was appointed Master of the Horse, and allowed - to retain his post of Captain of the Dutch Guards who had come over to - this country. He was also naturalised by Act of Parliament. Macaulay - speaks of this ‘gallant soldier as uniting the blood of Nassau with - that of Horn. He wore with just pride a costly sword, presented to him - by the States-General, for having, on the bloody day of St. Denis, - saved the life of William of Orange by interposing himself between his - Highness and a French soldier, whom he killed on the spot.’ - Auverquerque likewise received a brace of pistols, richly mounted in - gold, and a pair of horse-buckles of the same precious metal. - - In 1690 he was with the army that embarked for Ireland, headed by the - King in person; fought with his Royal master at the battle of the - Boyne, and was afterwards sent to Dublin (hastily evacuated by James - II. and his adherents) to take possession of the city and keep the - peace. He was also with William at the unsuccessful siege of Limerick, - and subsequently served with great distinction in the campaigns in - Flanders against the French. - - But it was at the battle of Steinkirk, in 1692, that Auverquerque - immortalised himself by his gallantry. The French army, commanded by - the brave and eccentric Duke of Luxembourg, was encamped at Steinkirk, - six miles from the King of England’s headquarters. Luxembourg was one - of the most extraordinary compounds of physical and moral - incongruities. Macaulay describes him as a valetudinarian and a - voluptuary, whose camp was of the most luxurious, who usually selected - his quarters with a view to his culinary department, and whose - thoughts were almost as much taken up with his _batterie de cuisine_ - as with his batteries in the field,—a little ugly hump-backed gnome, - who was accredited with powers of witchcraft, and had the spirit of a - lion. On his camp William made a night surprise, but Luxembourg was - one of those spirits who, in the literal meaning of the word, cannot - be surprised. He was the king of emergencies; ‘his mind’—we again - borrow the language of Macaulay—‘nay, even his sickly and distorted - body, seemed to derive health and vigour from disaster and dismay.’ - - In his army were the flower of the French chivalry. The noble - historian, whom we are never tired of quoting, describes the - appearance of the young Princes of the blood-royal of France,—‘brave - not only in valour, but in the splendour of their brilliant uniforms, - hastily donned and half fastened.’ They had orders to charge the - English: ‘No firing was the word; sword in hand, do it with cold - steel.’ - - In the order of battle, the division which was to lead the van was - that of General Mackay (the brave soldier who had done such good - service in Scotland, Ireland, and elsewhere). They first encountered - the Swiss, and drove them back with fearful slaughter, after so close - a fight that the muzzles of the muskets crossed. - - But the English were borne down, after a noble resistance, by the - French troopers. They never ceased to repeat that, if Count Solmes, - who commanded them, had done his duty, they would have been - successful; but he forbade his infantry to stir; he would not send - them, he said, to be slaughtered. The Duke of Ormonde wished to - advance to the assistance of his countrymen, but was not permitted to - do so. - - Mackay sent to say if he were not reinforced, his men were doomed to - destruction. It was of no avail; ‘God’s will be done,’ said the brave - veteran with his latest breath, and ‘he died as he had lived, a good - Christian.’ Five regiments were entirely cut to pieces. It was at this - juncture that Auverquerque came to the rescue with two fresh - battalions, and the splendid manner in which he brought off the - remains of Mackay’s division was long remembered and gratefully - acknowledged by the English. In the debates which ensued in the House - of Commons, when the events of the war by land and sea were discussed, - there was much difference of opinion, and the question of the - disadvantages of English troops being commanded by aliens was mooted. - The conduct of Solmes was almost universally reprehended. Four or five - of the colonels, who had been present at Steinkirk, took part in the - debate, and, amid many warring opinions, full justice was done to the - valour and conduct of Auverquerque. - - On the other hand, the exultation of the French over this dashing - victory was unspeakable; and it was commemorated by the votaries of - fashion in all sorts of ‘modes _à la Steinkirk_,’ the most captivating - of which, we are told, was the loosely arranged and scarcely knotted - cravats of white lace, worn round the fair necks of Parisian beauties, - in imitation of the hasty toilettes of the young princes and nobles of - the King’s household troops. - - In Macaulay’s pathetic account of the last days of William III., he - tells us ‘there were in the crowd surrounding the Monarch’s dying bed - those who felt as no Englishman could feel, friends of his youth, who - had been true to him, and to whom he had been true, through all - vicissitudes of fortune, who had served him with unalterable fidelity - (when his Secretaries of State, of his Treasury, and his Admiralty had - betrayed him), who had never on any field of battle, or in an - atmosphere tainted with loathsome and deadly disease, shrunk from - placing their own lives in jeopardy to save his, and whose truth he - had, at the cost of his own popularity, rewarded with bounteous - munificence.’ - - Amid the group of his countrymen, the nearest to him was Auverquerque, - to whom he stretched out a feeble hand, thanking him for the - affectionate and loyal service of thirty years. - - After the King’s death Auverquerque felt no inclination to remain in - England, but returned to his native land, and once more engaged in the - war which was still waging against France; and the States-General, in - acknowledgment of his services, bestowed on him the highest military - honours, by making him Field-Marshal of the whole army. He closed his - noble career by dying (as he had always desired) on the field. The - gallant Marshal had for some time suffered from bad health, which he - never allowed to interfere with his duties. He died in the camp at - Rouselaer, on the 17th day of October 1708, after the battle of Lille. - Collins gives a detailed account of the funeral, with more than common - military honours, even for an officer of such exalted rank. The - funeral car was escorted by squadrons of life guards, horse guards, - and dragoons, the colours of the regiments, as well as the men, being - in mourning, two battalions of foot guards, with arms reversed, etc. - The body was followed for a quarter of a league by a band of mourners, - consisting of the Marshal’s sons and most of the generals, headed by - the Duke of Marlborough. The troops were then drawn up, and saluted, - after which there was a triple discharge of cannon; the generals - returned to the camp, and the melancholy cortége passed on towards the - place of interment at Auverquerque. - - The Marshal married Isabella van Arsens, daughter of Cornelius, Lord - of Sommerdyke and Placata (who survived him), by whom he had five sons - and two daughters. The eldest surviving son, Henry, was made an - English peer in 1698, by the title of Earl of Grantham, Viscount - Boston, and Baron Alford. He had to wife his cousin, Lady Henrietta - Butler, daughter of the celebrated Earl of Ossory (son to the first - Duke of Ormonde), by whom he had two sons and three daughters. The - youngest, Lady Henrietta Auverquerque, married William, third Earl - Cowper, and through this union the present noble owner of Panshanger - boasts a lineal descent from the hero, William the Silent, and - Maurice, Princes of Orange, whose portraits Lady Henrietta brought - into the Cowper family, together with the splendid Vandyck of John of - Nassau—purchased by Lord Grantham at the Hague, in 1741, for the sum - of 5000 florins, from the Van Swieten collection,—also several other - Dutch pictures, which may be found in this Gallery. From the aforesaid - lady the present Lord Cowper derives his title of Dingwall, though - only called out of abeyance so recently as 1880. - - Lord Albemarle, in his delightful volume entitled _Fifty Years of My - Life_, speaks in the highest terms of the valour and generalship of - Field-Marshal d’Auverquerque, and says the history of the War of - Succession best attests his merits as General, and the Marlborough - despatches best show the estimation in which he was held by that - consummate commander. The titles of Earl Grantham and Baron Alford - were bestowed upon him for his services, but he never assumed these - honours. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - ADMIRAL CORNELIUS VAN TROMP. - - _In a leather jerkin. Holding a truncheon. The other arm akimbo. - Ship blowing up in the background._ - - BORN 1629, DIED 1691. - - BY SIR PETER LELY. - - - A NATIVE of Rotterdam, the son of Martin Van Tromp, who, at the age of - eleven years, stood by his father when he was shot down in action, the - boy crying wildly to his messmates, ‘Comrades, will you not revenge my - father’s death?’ - - Martin’s father before him had also been killed on the deck of his own - vessel, in an engagement with the English, and Cornelius proved - himself worthy of his brave progenitors. At the age of twenty-one he - had attained the rank of post-captain, and was employed against the - Emperor of Morocco, whom he compelled to make advantageous terms with - the Dutch. In 1652 he fought the English at Porto Longone, and - captured one of their finest vessels, the _Sampson_, which he boarded, - his own ship being disabled; but, to the great mortification of Van - Tromp, the _Sampson_ was recaptured by the enemy. The following year, - in a fresh encounter with the English, he made a violent effort to - regain possession of his former prize, but the _Sampson_ was blown up. - The Dutch were victorious on this occasion, but they lost their - Admiral, and Van Tromp was promoted to the vacant post. In 1656, in - connection with Oldham and De Ruyter, he distinguished himself on the - high seas, and then retired for a while from public life, and did not - go afloat till 1662, when he fought the Algerine pirates in the - Mediterranean. He also performed an arduous task in convoying several - richly freighted Dutch merchantmen from the East Indies safely into - port, in spite of numerous enemies who were on the look-out for such - valuable prizes. Van Tromp was constantly opposed to the English, and - in one engagement he gained universal praise for the manner in which - he defended his disabled and shattered ship, when the Dutch were - defeated, and sad havoc made in their fleet. New ships had to be - constructed in all haste, and the States-General were placed in a - dilemma as to the appointment of the command of the naval forces. - Popular De Ruyter was absent, battling with other foes, and although - Van Tromp’s knowledge and skill were almost universally acknowledged, - there was a very powerful faction against him, led by the brothers De - Witt, then in the plenitude of their power. The head and front of the - gallant seaman’s offending seemed to consist in his unswerving loyalty - to the House of Orange. There was, however, no alternative, and the - command of the fleet was grudgingly bestowed on Cornelius Van Tromp, - who had many hard conditions, to which his patriotism alone induced - him to submit. He had not the sole command, but was joined therein by - De Witt and others, who received instructions to watch over and - supervise all his movements. Worse treatment was in store for him; no - sooner had he hoisted his flag, than the sudden return of De Ruyter - changed the whole aspect of affairs; Van Tromp’s appointments were - cancelled, and De Ruyter ordered to supersede him. We can imagine with - what feelings of wrathful indignation Van Tromp went on shore, proudly - refusing to serve under the man who had supplanted him. In the ensuing - year, spite of much bitterness of feeling, he who had been so unjustly - treated was induced (partly by the bribe, perhaps, of a splendid ship) - to join De Ruyter in an attack on the English, when, after a fierce - struggle, of several days’ duration, the Dutch were victorious. - Hostilities continuing between the two nations, in another engagement - Van Tromp defeated the British Admiral Smith, but De Ruyter was - worsted; and on their return violent recriminations passed between - them. De Ruyter complained that his colleague had acted quite - independently, had afforded him no support whatsoever, and, in fact, - had left him and his portion of the fleet completely in the lurch, - while Van Tromp retaliated with counter-charges. The States-General, - as usual, espoused the cause of De Ruyter, deprived Van Tromp of his - commission, forbade him to hold any communication with the fleet, and - placed him under provisory arrest at the Hague. It was at this moment, - while smarting beneath the ingratitude and injustice of the country - which he had so nobly served, that tempting offers were made to the - gallant seaman to enter the service of France, but these overtures - were answered with becoming indignation. He now gained permission to - leave the Hague, and repair to a country house which he possessed near - Gravensand, called Trompenburg, and built in the fanciful form of a - man-of-war. But being in the Hague at the time of the murder of the De - Witt brothers, there were slanderous rumours set abroad that he - encouraged the assassins. This arose doubtless from the fact that some - voices in the crowd on the day of the murder called out, ‘Down with - the De Witts! Long live Van Tromp!’ - - The Admiral remained for some time in retreat, but in 1673 he was - reinstated in all his dignities by the Prince of Orange (afterwards - William III.). A formal reconciliation took place between him and De - Ruyter, and they once more agreed to make common cause against the - enemies of their country. In an engagement with the combined forces of - France and England, Van Tromp was sorely pressed, compelled to change - his ship three times, and three times he was rescued by the gallantry - of De Ruyter. The war continued, and they were both in constant - service, and, whether successful or not, both famed alike for their - patriotism and courage. - - In 1675, the Dutch being then at peace with England, Charles II. - invited Van Tromp to visit London, where he welcomed him with great - honour, and gave him the title of Baron. The citizens also crowded to - see the man whose name, as well as that of his father, had long been - used with them as a bugbear to frighten naughty children (as was the - case with ‘Boney’ in later days), and whose advent on the shores of - England had at one time been so much dreaded that prayers had actually - been printed against such a calamity. - - Next year the Admiral was despatched to the assistance of Denmark - against Sweden, and the King of that country also did him great - honour, creating him a Count, and decorating him with the Order of the - Elephant. On his return, the death of De Ruyter had made a vacancy in - the highest naval command which it was in the power of the - States-General to bestow, and it was conferred on Van Tromp. His last - expedition was to accompany the Prince of Orange in his attack of St. - Omer, and in 1691, William (then King of England) proposed to him to - hoist his flag on the new fleet equipping against France, but Van - Tromp died before he could undertake the trust. He expired at - Amsterdam, and was buried with great solemnity in the paternal - mausoleum at Delft. - - Cornelius Van Tromp, with many great qualities, had something of a - braggadocio in his nature. Witness his vain boast, when, after some - successful encounter with the English, he attached a broom to his main - mast, at a time when our superiority as a naval power was almost - universally admitted. - - Van Tromp had one brother, and an only sister, who had been christened - by her father (in commemoration of one of his victories, at the time - of her birth) by the following names, ‘Anna Maria Victoria Hardensis - Trompensis-Dunensis.’ We sincerely hope, for the sake of her - playmates, that the young lady had at least one nickname. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - DRAWING-ROOM. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - DRAWING-ROOM. - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - LADY CAROLINE COWPER. - - _Red gown. Black and white cloak._ - - BORN 1733, DIED 1773. - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - THE only daughter of William, second Earl Cowper, by Lady Henrietta - Auverquerque, daughter of the Earl of Grantham. Married in 1753 to - Henry Seymour, Esq. of Sherborne, Redland Court, and Northbrook, - nephew to the Duke of Somerset. They had two daughters,—Caroline, wife - to Mr. Danby of Swinton Park, county York (who bequeathed this picture - to Lord Cowper), and Georgiana, married to the Comte de Durfort, - Ambassador at Venice. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - MRS. SAMUEL REYNOLDS. - - _Green gown, with short sleeves. Holding a basket._ - - A STUDY BY OPIE. - - - MISS JANE COWING married in 1793 Samuel Reynolds, who became - identified with his great namesake, Sir Joshua, by his beautiful and - delicate engraving of the works of that master, and of many other - celebrated painters. His son and daughter were also artists in oil and - miniature, and his grandchildren still keep up the character of the - family for the love and practice of art. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds were - intimate friends and constant guests of Lord and Lady John Townshend - at Balls Park, Hertford, where the agreeable and versatile talents of - the former, and the gentle and kindly disposition of the latter, - ensured them a cordial welcome. They were also occasional visitors to - Panshanger, and it is easy to imagine how fully the treasures of this - noble gallery must have been appreciated by the practised eye and - refined taste of Samuel Reynolds. - - - ------------------ - - - - _No. 3._ - - SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, P.R.A. - - _Red coat. Fur collar. No spectacles._ - - BORN 1723, DIED 1792. - - BY HIMSELF. - - - BORN at Plymouth, where his father, Samuel, was master of the - Grammar-School. His mother was Theophila Potter, of Bishops Plympton, - South Molton, who had many children. Samuel Reynolds was a good man, - and sensible withal; yet we are told, on the authority of a maid who - lived in the family, that he was given to astrology, and would go out - on the house-top to consult the stars; moreover, that he once cast the - horoscope of a little daughter, for whom he predicted a violent - death,—a prophecy which was, unfortunately, fulfilled, as the child - fell out of a window, and was killed. When only eight years old, - Joshua had benefited so much by studying Richardson’s treatise on - Perspective, that he was enabled to draw the schoolhouse according to - rule, a feat which much delighted his father. The boy also busied - himself in copying all the engravings he could lay hands on, more - especially a volume of Catt’s Emblems, which his grandmother had - brought with her from Holland. His sisters had all a turn for drawing, - and the little band of artists used to decorate the whitewashed walls - of the passages with designs in charcoal, whereof the least admired - were the brother’s handiworks. Indeed, in those days Joshua was not - considered a prophet by his sisters, who had nicknamed him ‘The - clown,’—a sobriquet certainly not applicable to him in after life. - Mrs. Parker, a friend and neighbour of the Reynolds family, sent the - children a present of pencils,—a gift which the great painter lived to - pay back with interest, for the walls of Saltram are rich in his - paintings. When about twelve years of age, Joshua is said to have made - his first essay in oils under considerable difficulties,—the portrait - of Richard (afterwards Lord) Edgecumbe,—in the boat-house on Cremel - Beach, below Mount Edgecumbe. This work was executed on the rough - canvas of a boat-sail, with the common paints used by shipwrights! - - After much consultation with friends and relations, and many pecuniary - obstacles, Joshua proceeded to London as an apprentice to Hudson, the - fashionable portrait-painter of the day, son-in-law to Richardson, - whose writings on Art had been so useful to the young beginner. - Shortly after his departure, his father writes to a friend that no one - could be more delighted than the dear fellow with his new life, his - master, his employment,—indeed, he was in the seventh heaven. - - Joshua was an enthusiast in all things, and a characteristic anecdote - is told of him when he first went to London. Hudson sent him to a - picture sale, on a commission to make a purchase, when a whisper ran - through the crowded room—‘Mr. Pope! Mr. Pope!’ A passage was instantly - made for the great man, and Joshua, in a fever of excitement, - stretched out his hand under the arm of the person who stood before - him, desirous even to touch the hem of the poet’s garment. To his - delight, his hand was warmly shaken by the man whose homely but - expressive features, and poetical creations, he was destined to - portray in later days. - - Reynolds left Hudson’s studio before his apprenticeship had expired, - for which step many reasons were assigned at the time by those who, - perhaps, were not in possession of the truth. Some said his master was - unkind to him, from a feeling of jealousy; but as both father and son - (Reynolds) remained on friendly terms with the painter, this does not - appear probable. Joshua went down to Plymouth, and painted all the - remarkable people in the neighbourhood, including the greatest - dignitary of all,—the Commissioner of the dockyard! - - In 1746 his father died, and when the household broke up, he went to - live with his two unmarried sisters at Plymouth. It was here he made - the acquaintance of Commodore Keppel, whose portrait is so well known - and so justly admired. This gallant sailor had been appointed to the - command of the Mediterranean Fleet, and intrusted with a diplomatic - mission, before he had completed his twenty-fourth year. He met Joshua - at Mount Edgecumbe, and proposed to take him for a cruise, an offer - that was gladly accepted. After visiting Portugal, the Balearic Isles, - and different portions of the Italian coast, the young painter took - leave of the Commodore, and proceeded on a prolonged tour through all - the principal towns of Italy, carefully admiring, studying, copying, - and writing essays on all the treasures of art in his progress. His - long and patient worship of Raphael, in the chambers of the Vatican, - cost him one of his senses, for the extreme cold of those vast - apartments brought on a chill, which deprived him of hearing, even at - that early age. Returning to London, he established himself in St. - Martin’s Lane, in a house formerly occupied by Sir James Thornhill, - immediately behind which stood the school for drawing and design. He - now wrote to his sister Frances to come up from Devonshire, and keep - house for him,—a proceeding which, judging from the character given of - that lady by Madame D’Arblay (whose testimony we are always inclined - to take _cum grano_), appeared to be of questionable advantage, for - Miss Fanny, though a person of worth and understanding, lived in a - perpetual state of irresolution of mind and perplexity of - conduct,—what in these days we should call a chronic fuss; added to - which, she insisted on being an artist, and her admiration for her - brother’s works induced her to make what she called ‘copies,’ and - Joshua ‘caricatures.’ ‘Indeed,’ said he wofully, ‘Fanny’s copies make - me cry, and other people laugh.’ She had also a knack of taking - offence on the slightest provocation, and one day, being displeased - with her brother for some imaginary slight put upon her, she deputed - Samuel Johnson to compose an expostulatory letter for her to write to - Joshua. Dr. Johnson was a warm admirer of Miss Fanny and her talent - for tea-making,—to which he did full justice,—and could deny her - nothing; but when the copy of the letter was read and discussed, the - style was so unmistakably masculine and Johnsonian, that it was deemed - advisable not to send it. - - Our painter’s hands were now full. Men and women of all classes, - denominations, and reputations, thronged his studio; his pocket-book - was a perfect record of all the illustrious and celebrated names of - the period. He determined to change his quarters, first to Newport - Street, and finally to far more commodious apartments in Leicester - Square. He raised his prices, charging twelve guineas for a head, and - forty-eight for a full-length. He set up a magnificent coach, which - caused a great sensation. Northcote flippantly describes it as an - advertisement; but it would appear more likely that Reynolds wished to - do Catton a good turn. Catton had begun life as a decorator, and ended - as an R.A. The vehicle was splendid in colour and gorgeous in gilding, - and Catton soon received orders to paint royal and municipal - carriages. Joshua was far too busy to take the air in his new - equipage, and it was in vain he entreated Miss Fanny to do so. She was - much too shy, she said, to attract the eyes of the whole town. - - We do not require to be told that Sir Joshua was a friend and - playfellow of children. None but a lover could have painted in all - their winning varieties, not merely the comeliness, but the roguish - grace, the dimpled smiles, the ‘beautifully shy’ glances, of - childhood. It is easy to picture him paying court to these juvenile - charmers, and entering into delightful small flirtations. But the - history of one of these tender passages will suffice to give an idea - of the course he usually pursued. The parents of the beautiful little - Miss Bowles, with whose sweet face we are all familiar, had settled - that their darling should sit to Romney. But Sir George Beaumont - recommended Reynolds for the privilege. The little lady was shy and - coy. ‘Invite him to dinner,’ said Sir George. The President came, and - sat at table by the daughter of the house. He paid her the most - assiduous court; no end of stories; no end of tricks; her plate was - juggled away and brought back from unexpected quarters. Her senses - were dazzled; the conquest was complete; she thought him the most - captivating of men, and was only too ready to be taken to his house - next day. There, seated on the floor in an ecstasy of expectation and - delight, she gave herself up to Sir Joshua’s fascinations. He seized - his opportunity, caught the radiant expression, fastened it on the - canvas, and made his little friend immortal! No one gloried more in - the success of the young painter than Samuel Johnson, for between - these two great men, so essentially different in pursuits, in - character, intellect, and appearance, a tender friendship had sprung - up. Reynolds’s heart, home, and purse were always at the service of - the Doctor, who was often in pecuniary difficulties, and who wrote - _Rasselas_ under the pressure of great sorrow, paying the expenses of - his mother’s funeral out of the proceeds of the book. He puts these - touching words into the mouth of Imlac: ‘I have neither mother to - delight in the reputation of her son, or wife to share in the honours - of her husband.’ - - Many a delightful summer excursion did Johnson and Reynolds make - together, where the eccentricities and caustic humour of the former - made him as welcome a guest at the country houses they visited as the - refined qualities and polished manners of the latter. - - If the peculiarities, the sayings, and doings of the great ‘leviathan - of literature’ have been made familiar to us by the pen of Boswell, - surely the pencil of Reynolds has stamped his image on our minds, as - if the living Samuel had ever stood before us. Boswell recognised the - Doctor when he saw him first through a glass door in Tom Davies’s - coffee-house from his exact resemblance to the portrait which the - painter afterwards gave the biographer, who had it engraved for one of - the first editions of Johnson’s Life. What can be more charming than - ‘The Infant Johnson,’ one of the chief glories of the Bowood - collection? Was ever a joke so wonderfully delineated? - - The question being raised one evening at a convivial meeting, Could - the Doctor ever have been a baby? ‘No doubt about it,’ said Reynolds; - ‘I know exactly what he looked like, and I will show you some day.’ - - The painter was a great admirer of Johnson’s powers of conversation, - and it was chiefly at his instigation that the Literary Club was - formed, with a view ‘of giving the Doctor the opportunity of talking, - and us, his friends, of listening.’ The meetings were held in Gerrard - Street, Soho, and were at first confined to twelve members, but ere - long included all the wit and literature of the town. - - Sir Joshua liked cards, masquerades, and theatres. Neither did he - disdain the illegitimate drama, for we find him accompanying the - sapient Samuel and the rollicking Oliver (Goldsmith) to a performance - of the Italian Fantoccini; and, still more surprising, we have the - account of the supper which crowned this convivial evening, when - Goldsmith and the Doctor jumped over sticks, in imitation of the - frolics of the wooden puppets, and the latter nearly broke his leg in - these elephantine gambols! - - In 1769 the Royal Academy was founded. Joshua did not join the - deputation that waited on the King; in fact, he kept aloof from the - whole undertaking, interested as he was at heart in the cause; but the - slights put upon him at Court formed a sufficient reason for his - non-appearance. From the moment that he found himself elected - President by the unanimous voice of his brother artists, his zeal - never slackened, and knew no bounds. He drew up Regulations, wrote and - revised the Catalogue, and began a regular course of lectures, which - gained him as much literary, as his paintings had secured for him - pictorial, fame. As long as Reynolds could hold a brush he contributed - his most splendid portraits to the Exhibitions. As in duty bound, he - went to the levee, where the King knighted him. ‘His very name,’ says - his friend Edmund Burke, an undoubted master of euphony, ‘seemed made - for knightly honours.’ - - George III. sat to him for the presentation picture to the Royal - Academy. Sir Joshua had not as much time now as formerly for his - summer excursions, whether in England or abroad. He spent most of the - day in his painting-room, or in attending to his numerous duties as - P.R.A. In the evening he gave himself up more or less to social - enjoyment, dining out constantly at clubs or private houses, or - presiding at his own table at those convivial banquets, where - oftentimes half a dozen guests were expected and a dozen appeared, and - where verily the feast of reason and the flow of soul made up for the - scarcity of the servants, knives, forks, plates, and such minor - details. - - In that dining-room were gathered all the intellect and wit of the - town; and its noble master presided calmly, taking an interest in all - that came within the range of his ear-trumpet. Leicester Square was in - the centre of the disturbed district at the time of the Gordon Riots, - and the noise and hubbub were painfully audible to the painter’s - impaired hearing, and for a time interfered with the visits of his - fair sitters. On St. George’s Day 1770, Sir Joshua presided at the - first Royal Academy banquet, a festivity which was spoiled for many of - the guests by the announcement that the boy-poet Chatterton had - committed suicide. - - In the ensuing year Reynolds was summoned to Windsor Castle to witness - the installation of nine Knights of the Garter, all of whom (with the - exception of two foreign Princes) had been immortalised by his pencil. - Northcote tells us that on this occasion Sir Joshua lost his laced hat - and gold watch in the crowd close to the Royal precincts,—a - circumstance which excited little astonishment in days when a boat - containing ladies and gentlemen from Vauxhall was boarded by masked - highwaymen! - - A delightful addition was made in 1771 to the Leicester Square - household, in the person of his pretty niece, Theophila Palmer; and - two years later she was joined by her sister, Mary, adding that - element of youth, beauty, and good spirits which were most acceptable - to Sir Joshua himself and to all his guests. A sad blow was in store - for him in the death of his valued friend David Garrick, who was taken - ill when on a visit to Lord Spencer at Althorp, and only returned to - London to die. The whole Faculty put forth their skill to save this - darling of the public, this cherished member of private society; but - in vain. Garrick’s humour never forsook him; when almost at the point - of death, he drew a friend near him, and, pointing to the crowd of - doctors in the room, whispered these words from the ‘Fair Penitent’— - - ‘Another and another still succeeds, - And the last fool is welcome as the former.’ - - David Garrick’s funeral was a pageant. The procession included every - name remarkable for talent, rank, celebrity of all kinds and classes. - But amidst that crowd of mourners few could have grieved more deeply - than the actor’s fast friend, Joshua Reynolds. - - He was indeed a good friend, and was much interested in the unhappy - Angelica Kauffmann, whom he assisted in the dissolution of her - marriage with her first husband, a swindler and an impostor. We find - by his pocket-book that she sat twice to him, and in exchange she - afterwards painted the P.R.A. for Mr. Parker of Saltram. There was a - rumour that the painter’s heart was touched by the charms of the - paintress. But Joshua was evidently not very susceptible; he was an - inveterate club man, and was immensely popular, from the geniality and - cordiality of his manners, as also (it was whispered) from the badness - of his whist-playing. He was elected for the Dilettanti Club in 1766, - and his picture of the assembled members was greatly admired, and - added considerably to his fame. - - In 1782 the great painter had a paralytic seizure, though of a mild - nature, and he soon recovered sufficient energy to continue his - labours, with, if possible, increased diligence, finishing and - exhibiting some of his noblest works after this premonitory warning. - In 1784 Samuel Johnson was stricken down by the same terrible disease, - but in a much more aggravated form, leaving little hope of his - recovery. He had lost the power of speech for a time, and his first - efforts at returning articulation were to repeat the Lord’s Prayer, - and an earnest supplication that his intellect might be spared to the - last, together with a summons to his dear Joshua,—the loved companion - of so many pleasant excursions, of so many jovial and intellectual - gatherings,—of whom he took a tender farewell. The dying man made - three requests in that solemn moment: that Reynolds would paint no - more on Sundays; that he would invariably read his Bible on that day, - and other days besides; and that he would cancel the debt of £30 which - he (Johnson) owed him. - - The relations between Gainsborough and Reynolds had never been very - friendly; but when the first-mentioned painter was on his deathbed, he - also sent for Sir Joshua, who says: ‘In those solemn moments all - little jealousies were forgotten, and he recognised in me one whose - tastes and pursuits were in common with his own, and of whose works he - approved.’ It should be remembered that when Gainsborough heard some - one disparaging Sir Joshua’s talent, he spoke up gallantly, and said, - ‘For myself, I consider his worst pictures superior to the best of any - other painter;’ and words nearly to the same effect, on the same - subject, are recorded of Romney. Reynolds himself, being attacked on - the score of his portraits fading, laughed, and said good-humouredly, - ‘Well, you must confess at all events that I have come off with - _flying_ colours.’ On the death of Ramsay, the Court painter, the post - was offered to Sir Joshua, but it required the united persuasions of - his friends to induce him to accept the office. - - Reynolds had a great deal to contend with in these latter days. He had - entirely lost the sight of one eye, and was under grave apprehensions - for the safety of the other; while the conduct of many of the Royal - Academicians towards their noble President was such as to determine - him to resign his post. The King (who had just recovered from an - attack of insanity) exerted himself to persuade Reynolds to take back - his resignation. But it was not until he had received a deputation - from the Council, accompanied by apologies from some of the offenders, - that Sir Joshua consented to resume the Chair. In December 1790 he - delivered his last discourse at the Royal Academy, which he commenced - by alluding slightly and delicately to the causes which had nearly - prevented his ever occupying that place again, and assuring his - hearers that he should always remember with pride, affection, and - gratitude the support with which he had almost uniformly been honoured - since the commencement of their intercourse. He enjoined, for the last - time, the enforcement of those rules which he considered conducive to - the wellbeing of the institution. - - Every eye was fixed on the speaker, every ear open to his charming, - when suddenly a loud crash plunged the whole assembly (with the - exception of the President) into alarm and confusion. There was a - general rush to the door, but when order was restored, and assurance - of safety believed, it was ascertained that a beam, which helped to - support the flooring, had given way. - - Alas for the omen! The greatest prop to the grandeur of the Royal - Academy was soon to fall away in truth. - - Sir Joshua remained calm and unmoved during the perturbation, and - concluded by these words: ‘I reflect, not without vanity, that these - discourses bear testimony to my admiration of a truly divine man, and - I desire that the last words I pronounce in this Academy should be the - name of Michael Angelo.’ - - As Reynolds descended from the Chair, Edmund Burke stepped forward, - and, taking his hand, addressed him in the words of Milton:— - - ‘The angel ended, and in Adam’s ear - So charming left his voice, that he a while - Thought him still speaking, and stood fixed to hear.’ - - ‘Such a tribute, from such a man,’ says Leslie, ‘was a fitting close - to the life-work of Joshua Reynolds.’ - - Neither his impaired sight, his deficient hearing, or his increasing - weakness, could entirely damp the warmth of his social affections. The - last time he wielded his brush was at the request of some schoolboys, - who entreated him to paint them a flag for ‘breaking up.’ - - Reynolds had that love for children and domestic pets which seems - inseparable from great and good natures. He would pay the most - assiduous court, and make the most gallant advances, to some of the - exquisite little models who sat to him, till they became spellbound. - And one day, his canary having escaped from its cage, nothing would - content the P.R.A. but he must go out into the glaring sunshine, with - his weak eyes, and the green shade over them, to spend hours in - seeking and whistling for his lost favourite. - - The end was approaching. His spirits became depressed, his appetite - failed, and on the evening of February 23, 1792, he concluded a - blameless life by a calm and peaceful end. The manuscript of Burke’s - obituary notice still exists, blotted with the writer’s tears. It was - written in the very house where the friends had spent so many happy - hours together. Beautiful in its touching eloquence, we regret we have - only space for a short extract:— - - ‘From the beginning Sir Joshua contemplated his dissolution with a - composure which nothing but the innocence, integrity, and usefulness - of his life, and his entire submission to the will of Providence, - could bestow. In the full affluence of foreign and domestic fame, - admired by the expert in art, by the learned in science, caressed by - sovereign powers, and celebrated by distinguished poets, his native - humility, modesty, and candour never forsook him. He had too much - merit ever to excite jealousy, too much innocence ever to provoke - enmity. The loss of no man of his time can be felt with so much - sincere, general, and unmixed sorrow.’ And these words were confirmed - by the crowds of every calling, position, and class which followed him - to the grave. - - The body lay in state at Somerset House. There were ninety-one - carriages followed, so that, before the first in the line had reached - St. Paul’s, the last was still at the entrance of Somerset House. The - Annual Register for that year gives a detailed account of the funeral. - The pall-bearers were ten Peers, Reynolds’s personal friends, the - greater part of whom had been his sitters. And the procession included - three Knights of the Garter, two of St. Patrick, and one of the - Thistle; three Dukes and four Lords-Lieutenant of Ireland; the whole - body of Academicians, painters, authors, actors,—every name - distinguished for literature, art, and science. Sir Joshua left - numerous legacies; many of his finest pictures were bequeathed to - private friends. - - He left the bulk of his fortune, for her life, to his sister, Frances - Reynolds, with reversion to his niece, Mary Palmer, afterwards Lady - Thomond, together with a large collection of his paintings, which were - sold and dispersed at her death. - - The number of his paintings seems miraculous when the list is read. He - was a large contributor to the Exhibitions of the Royal Academy. At - the first of these he sent four; at the last (as far as he was - concerned, in 1790) he sent but six, only two years before his death. - But in the interim his pictures often numbered fourteen, sixteen, and, - on one occasion, seventeen, for his talent was only equalled by his - industry, and he was a workman as well as an artist, to which fact all - his contemporaries bear witness. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - THE NIECE OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, MARY, OR THEOPHILA PALMER. - - _Sitting. White gown. Blue sash. Hair falling on her shoulders._ - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, P.R.A. - - - WE give a sketch of both sisters, not being quite certain as to the - identity of the portrait. They were the daughters of Mrs. Palmer, who - was sister of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and wife of John Palmer of - Torrington, county Devon. Theophila, their youngest daughter, had been - residing some time with her uncle in Leicester Square, but came home - for change of air; and when she returned to London in 1779, her elder - sister, Mary, accompanied her. Miss Burney tells us that the two - sisters ‘added to the charm of the President’s table and his evening - parties by their pleasing manners and the beauty of their persons.’ - - They both served as occasional models. Mary appears to have been the - more staid and demure of the two. She had the keenest admiration and - appreciation of her uncle’s talent, and never tired of describing his - works to her frequent correspondent and cousin, William Johnson, at - Calcutta. In 1786 she says: ‘Uncle seems more than ever bewitched by - his palette and pencil. He paints from morning till night, and, truth - to say, each picture appears better than the last. The Empress of - Russia has ordered an historical painting; his choice is still - undecided.’ - - This was the ‘Infant Hercules,’ which made such a noise at the time, - and the merits of which were the subject of so much controversy. - Romney’s verdict was ‘that, whatever fault might be found with it, no - other painter in Europe could have produced that picture.’ Sir Joshua - was one of those who did not disdain criticism, even from young lips. - He had painted a captivating portrait of Mary’s little niece, Polly - Gwatkin, and when Miss Palmer saw it she told the President boldly - that the little fingers, which were clasped on the child’s lap, with - their very red tips, suggested the idea of a dish of prawns! Sir - Joshua, no ways offended, laughed, and set to work immediately, - turning the prawns into roseate buds, which he placed in the little - chubby hand. Mary was at Torrington when she heard of her uncle’s - sudden failure of sight and loss of one eye. She hastened back to his - side, to read, to write, to minister to him in every possible way, for - he was not allowed to read, or write, or paint for some time. ‘You may - believe,’ Mary writes, ‘what the loss of an eye is to him. But his - serenity never forsook him. One of his early axioms was not to fuss - about trifles,—if the loss of an eye could be considered as such. ‘The - ruling passion continues. He amuses himself by mending or cleaning a - picture. In the meantime he enjoys company as much as ever, and loves - a game at cards.’ - - Mary Palmer lived with her uncle till his death. He left her a - considerable fortune and a large collection of his pictures, which - were sold by auction at her death, in 1821. The same year that Sir - Joshua died she married Murrough, first Marquis of Thomond, as his - second wife. She made a present of one of his historical paintings to - George IV. Theophila, or Offy, as her uncle usually called her, was - his favourite, although much attached to both sisters. She was only - thirteen when she first went to live in Leicester Square. She was very - pretty, and full of fun and playful spirits. She frequently sat to the - President, especially for his arch and sprightly models,—his - ‘Strawberry Girl,’ his ‘Mouse Girl,’ and ‘Reflections on reading - _Clarissa Harlowe_.’ But Miss Offy’s dignity was much hurt on the - exhibition of the last-named picture, because it was entered into the - Catalogue as ‘A Girl reading:’ ‘You might have put “a young lady,” - uncle’! Another time the President was scolded because he made the - portrait look too young, when the original was nearly fourteen! But - for all these differences, the great man and the little lady were the - dearest friends, and we find in one of his long letters that he will - not tell her how much he loves her lest she should grow saucy over it; - and again he says he has two presents for her and Mary,—a ring, and a - bracelet of his hair. She is to have her choice, but she is not to let - her sister know of this mark of preference. - - Offy was married in her twentieth year, from her mother’s house at - Torrington, to Richard Lovell Gwatkin, a man of fortune, and of a good - Cornish family. Her uncle writes her a most affectionate letter of - congratulation, with a postscript by Edmund Burke, who came in at the - moment, wishing her every possible happiness. The wish was fulfilled. - There never was a happier wife or mother than little Offy. She came to - London and sat for a conjugal picture to Sir Joshua, who also painted - her little daughter, as we have said before. Mrs. Gwatkin lived to be - ninety years of age, surrounded by her children’s children. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 5._ - - A YOUNG WOMAN. - - _Dark green gown, open at the throat. Shady hat. Landscape in - background._ - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - KATRINE, COUNTESS COWPER. - - _Red gown. Diamond necklace._ - - BY POYNTER. - - - KATRINE CECILIA COMPTON, eldest daughter of the fourth Marquis of - Northampton, by Eliza, second daughter of Admiral the Honourable Sir - George Elliot, K.C.B. - - She married in 1870 the present and seventh Earl Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - WILLIAM COWPER, THE POET. - - _Loose gown, trimmed with fur. White cap. Table with books and - papers._ - - BORN 1731, DIED 1800. - - BY JACKSON, AFTER A CHALK DRAWING FROM LIFE. - - - THE grandson of Spencer Cowper, Attorney-General, and great-nephew of - Lord Chancellor Cowper, the first peer of the name. His father was Dr. - John Cowper, chaplain to King George II., who married the daughter of - Roger Donne, of Lidham Hall, county Norfolk. William, the eldest of - two sons, was born at his father’s rectory of Great Berkhamstead. - - Mrs. Cowper died in giving birth to a second son. She was an amiable - and pretty woman, and much more deserving of the flattering epitaph - (by her niece, Lady Walsingham) than most objects of elegiac praise, - in the days when it might well be asked ‘where all the naughty people - were buried.’ - - Even in these times when ‘The Task’ and the Homer lie unopened on the - table, few readers of poetry are surely unacquainted with the ‘Address - to my Mother’s Picture,’ written half a century after her death. The - portrait was a present to William Cowper, from his cousin, Mrs. - Bodham, and he writes her an enthusiastic letter of thanks ‘for the - most acceptable gift the world could offer;’ sending her at the same - time the lines to which we have alluded. ‘I have placed the painting - so as to meet my eye the first thing in the morning, and the last at - night, and I often get up from my bed to kiss it.’ - - But we must not anticipate by so many years. When only six, William - went to a large school at Markgate Street, where he had to undergo a - fierce ordeal. Many a stout-hearted boy, possessing the germs of - future heroism, might have quailed before the bully who marked the - little sensitive, tender-hearted Willie (ready to burst into tears at - the first harsh word) as his victim. He tells us himself that he - scarcely ever dared to lift his eyes above the level of his tyrant’s - shoe-buckle; and, alluding to those days in later life, he said he - could not dwell on the cruelty practised on him, but he hoped God - would forgive his tormentor, and that they might meet in heaven. - - ‘Wretch even then, life’s journey just begun.’ - - It is easy to see how the memory of those days suggested his - ‘Tyrocinium.’ Mr. Cowper, finding that the boy was suffering from - inflammation of the eyes, sent him to board with an oculist in London, - and afterwards to Westminster School, where William improved in - health, and took bodily exercise, cricket and football, which proved - beneficial to him in more ways than one, making him popular in the - school. - - He was diligent in his study of the Classics, and wrote good Latin - verses. Warren Hastings was his contemporary and friend, and Cowper - would never listen in after days to a word against his old - school-fellow. - - On leaving Westminster, he became articled clerk to an attorney, in - obedience to his father’s wishes, he himself disliking the profession - of the law. He confesses that at this period he spent most of his time - ‘in giggling and making giggle’ his two favourite cousins, Theodora - and Harriet, daughters of Ashley Cowper. He ‘feared some day that - worthy gentleman would be picked up for a mushroom, being a diminutive - man, nearly hidden under the shadow of a white broad-brimmed hat, - lined with yellow.’ His fellow-clerk and ally in these giggling - matches was the afterwards famous Lord Thurlow, of whom it was said, - ‘No man could possibly be as wise as Lord Thurlow looked.’ At all - events he was wise enough at this period to combine legal study with - flirtation. Cowper prophesied he would one day sit on the Woolsack, - and Thurlow promised to do something handsome for his friend whenever - that time should come. He redeemed his pledge by the gift of a few - strictures and criticisms on the poet’s translation of Homer. - - Cowper removed from the attorney’s office to chambers in the Temple, - where he studied literature rather than law, and became a member of - the Nonsense Club, which was the resort of authors, journalists, - editors, and the like. Here he formed many friendships which lasted - through life, became a contributor to several periodicals, kept up his - classical reading, translated many amatory and sentimental poems, and - wrote odes to Delia of a very tender character,—Delia otherwise - Theodora Cowper. - - The cousins had fallen in love, but the lady’s father would not hear - of the marriage, which was a bitter disappointment. The lady remained - faithful to her first love, and Cowper, as we know, never married. - - A cousin of William’s, Major Cowper, had the patronage of the - Clerkship of Journals in the House of Lords; and the future poet, - whose finances were very low at the time, one day expressed a hope - that the holder of the office might die, in order to make way for him. - This uttered wish was afterwards the subject of due remorse to this - sensitive spirit: ‘God gave me my heart’s desire, and sent leanness - withal into my soul.’ The man died, the office was offered to, and - accepted by, Cowper. ‘I was so dazzled,’ he said, ‘by the idea, that I - did not reflect on my incapacity for the appointment;’ but as he - answered in the affirmative, he felt ‘a dagger strike at his heart.’ - He fell a prey to nervous fears and terrors of all kinds, and, even - while preparing himself for the duties of his office, began to - contemplate with horror the prospect of being examined as to his - proficiency at the bar of the House of Lords. - - By degrees he became quite mad, and in that state meditated - self-destruction. He bought laudanum, he drove to the river-side to - drown himself, he pointed a knife at his throat; but his courage - always failed him, or, as he thought, some particular interposition - saved his life. Twice he suspended himself by the neck long enough to - occasion insensibility, but so insecurely as to fall each time, the - shock bringing back consciousness. After this last incident he sent - for a relative, to whom he confessed everything, and who, - comprehending the state of the case, returned the nomination to Major - Cowper. - - Several of his friends, unacquainted with these sad circumstances, - called upon him on the day appointed for his appearance at the House - of Lords, but one and all acquiesced in the sad decision that he must - be placed under restraint. The asylum chosen was that of Dr. Cotton, a - religious and well-educated man, who was of much service to the - sufferer by his judicious treatment. William laboured under terrible - despondency, fear of eternal punishment, and the deepest feelings of - remorse. By the gentle, friendly care of Dr. Cotton, the patient - gradually regained his health, both mental and bodily, and took much - comfort in reading the Bible,—the very book which, in his fits of - madness, he would dash to the ground. One morning, studying the third - chapter of Romans, he experienced ‘comfort and strength to believe, - feeling the full beams of the Sun of Righteousness shining on me, and - relying on the full justification by faith in the blood of Jesus. In a - moment I believed, and received the Gospel.’ - - The seeds of religion, which bore fruit in Cowper’s after life, had - been in some measure sown by the hand of the good physician Dr. - Cotton, and, after eleven months’ sojourn at St. Albans, William - Cowper went forth in his right mind. - - After much consultation between the brothers, an abode was fixed upon - for William Cowper at what one of his biographers designates as ‘dull, - fenny Huntingdon,’ which appeared an Elysium to one who had just - recovered his senses and his liberty. He had not been there long - before an incident occurred which changed the whole tenor of his after - life. Leaving church one morning, he began pacing up and down under - the shade of the trees, before returning to his solitary lodging, when - he was accosted by a young man of prepossessing appearance, who craved - pardon for addressing ‘a perfect stranger,’ and asked leave to - accompany him in his walk. Such an unconventional proceeding was - doubtless calculated to please a man of so imaginative a turn of mind, - and Cowper warmly responded. The young man announced himself as - William Unwin, a student of Cambridge, the son of the Rev. Mr. Unwin, - who lived in the town, and boarded pupils for the Huntingdon school. - Young Unwin went on to confess that, for some time past, he had been - attracted by Cowper’s appearance, and longed to speak to him, but - to-day he could no longer resist doing so. He ended by requesting his - new friend to accompany him home, that he might make acquaintance with - his parents. No time was lost, the visit was paid; the liking proved - reciprocal, and it was not long before William Cowper left his lonely - apartments to occupy a room, lately vacated, under the roof of the - Rev. Mr. Unwin. Thus began that lifelong friendship, the annals of - which are indissolubly connected with the poet’s history. ‘Verily - there is One who setteth the solitary in families.’ Writing to his - dear cousin and constant correspondent, Lady Hesketh (the sister of - Theodora), he described ‘the most comfortable and sociable folk he had - ever met,—the son, destined for the Church, most frank and unreserved; - the girl pretty, bashful, taciturn; the father a kind of Parson Adams, - and the mother.’ Mrs. Unwin was some years younger than her husband, - comely in appearance, strongly imbued with evangelical views in - religion, well read, particularly in the English poets, with a vein of - cheerfulness and humour tempering the strictness of her religious - tenets, and an invaluable critic. Cowper describes a two hours’ walk - and conversation with her, which did him ‘more good than an audience - with a prince could have done. Her society is a real blessing to me.’ - The manner of life in the Unwin establishment proved most congenial to - Cowper’s tastes, for he both contemned and condemned ‘the frivolous - gaieties, the balls, routs, and card-parties of the Huntingdon _beau - monde_.’ ‘After early breakfast,’ he says, ‘we occupy ourselves in - reading passages from Scripture, or the works of some favourite - preacher; at eleven, Divine service, which is performed twice a day; a - solitary ride, walk, or reading; and after dinner a sociable walk in - the garden with mother or son, the conversation usually of a religious - character.’ Mrs. Unwin was a good walker, and the friends often - rambled beyond the home precincts, and did not return till tea-time; - at night, reading or singing hymns till supper; family prayers - concluded the order of the day. This was the description by William - Cowper of a day of perfect cheerfulness. With all our admiration for - the man who was thus spiritually minded, it is almost a relief to find - him confessing to some slight shade of human weakness in a letter to - his cousin, Mrs. Cowper. He had given young Unwin an introduction to - ‘the Park,’ and—after a lengthened rhapsody of self-accusation, not - without a spice of humour, as of one who is laughing at himself,—he - allows that ‘it was not alone friendship for the youth which prompted - the introduction, but a desire that Unwin should receive some - convincing proof of “my _sponsibility_,” by visiting one of my most - splendid connections, so that, when next he hears me called “that - fellow Cowper” (which has happened before now), he may be able to bear - witness to my gentlemanhood.’ - - About this time he seems to have revolved in his mind the idea of - taking orders, which he wisely abandoned. He had spent but two - peaceful years under his friends’ roof, when the home was broken up by - the death of Mr. Unwin, who fell from his horse and fractured his - skull, riding home after church. ‘This event necessitates a change of - residence,’ Cowper remarks. But the possibility of a separation from - Mrs. Unwin never appears to have struck either of them; they merely - commenced making inquiries and taking advice as to whither they should - flit. The poet’s biographers are at variance respecting this epoch in - his life, some asserting, others denying, that the friends ever - contemplated marriage. There must have been some rumour to this - effect, as, in a postscript to one of his letters he says laconically, - ‘I am not married.’ He frequently remarked that the affection Mrs. - Unwin bore him was that of a mother for a son; nevertheless, the lady - was only his senior by seven years. - - To the eye of watchful affection, it was evident that Cowper’s mental - recovery would not prove permanent, and such a consideration doubtless - weighed in the devoted woman’s resolution to remain at her friend’s - side. Her son, a religious and high-principled man, offered no - objection; her daughter was married; and so William Cowper and Mary - Unwin took up their abode together in the melancholy little town of - Olney, in Buckinghamshire. They were attracted to this unpromising - locality by one of those hasty friendships to which they were both - prone. The Rev. Mr. Newton, at that time esteemed a shining light in - Methodist circles—well known by his _Cardiphonia_ and many evangelical - works, and still better, perhaps, by his collection of ‘Olney - Hymns’—had visited the Unwins at Huntingdon, and had held discussions - with them on religious matters, in a strain much appreciated by the - whole household. He was now curate at Olney, and invited his new - friends to settle near him. This remarkable man had passed a stormy - and eventful youth. He had been a sailor in all parts of the world; - had endured shipwreck, slavery, imprisonment, and perils of all kinds, - by land and by sea. He had become a minister of the Gospel, and was - one of those enthusiasts who, after a sudden conversion (generally - brought about by a lightning flash of conviction), take delight in - reviling their former selves, painting their own portraits in colours - so black as to bring out in stronger relief the subsequent brightness. - He was a zealot, and had the reputation of ‘preaching people mad.’ - Alas! such a man, however conscientious and well-intentioned, was one - of the worst influences that could have crossed Cowper’s path. But so - it was. Mr. Newton hired a house for the new-comers next door to the - Vicarage where he lived,—damp, dark, and dreary; even the - easily-contented and far from luxurious poet described it as a ‘well’ - and an ‘abyss.’ Then the life prescribed by this spiritual pastor and - master,—prayer-meetings at all hours of the day and evening; rigid - self-examinations and upbraidings; scarcely any leisure allowed for - wholesome exercise or cheerful correspondence. - - Mrs. Unwin, usually watchful and judicious, was herself so completely - under Newton’s influence, that she did not interfere to arrest the - progress of a system which was helping to hurry her poor friend back - into his former miserable state. Before the malady returned in its - most aggravated form, Cowper used to take violent fancies, and one day - suddenly insisted on leaving his own house and removing to the - Vicarage,—a most inconvenient resolution, as far as the curate was - concerned. John Cowper’s death, about this time, helped to agitate his - brother’s mind, and ere long he was again insane. - - When the dark hour came, the devoted woman and the benevolent though - mistaken friend were unremitting in their care; and it was in allusion - to the tenderness with which his gentle-hearted nurse ministered to - him on this and subsequent occasions that Cowper wrote:— - - ‘There is a book - By seraphs writ in beams of heavenly light, - On which the eyes of God not rarely look; - A chronicle of actions just and bright. - Here all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine, - And since thou own’st that praise, I spare thee mine.’ - - Mr. Newton was soon to leave Olney, which he did under circumstances - that appear, at this time of writing, rather comic. He had a great - dread of fire, and strictly prohibited every species of bonfire, - illumination, or firework in the locality on Gunpowder Plot Day. Such - an inroad on a time-honoured institution could not be tolerated. The - parish rose _en masse_, and his reverence narrowly escaped with his - life. Disgusted by the ingratitude and rebellion of his flock, the - curate removed to London. - - Cowper had before this returned to his own house, and gradually his - bodily health improved and his mind regained its equilibrium; he now - began to resume out-of-doors pursuits, walking and gardening, and the - like. He was much addicted to reading out of doors, and said that - external objects fixed the subject of his lecture on his memory. He - wrote to William Unwin about this time, requesting him to procure a - diamond for cutting glass, and expatiating at length on the joys of a - glazier’s trade. He hardly knows a business in which a gentleman might - more successfully employ himself. ‘Possibly the happy time may come,’ - he goes on to say, ‘when I may be seen trudging off to the - neighbouring towns, with a shelf of glass hanging at my back. A - Chinese of ten times my fortune would avail himself of such an - opportunity,—and why not I, who want money as much as any mandarin in - China?’ He recommends the notion to his clerical friend, who, by - mending the church windows, might increase his income, and his - popularity in the parish into the bargain. How acceptable must these - jocose passages in his letters have been to those who loved him, after - the terrible period of gloomy hallucinations; but a bright vein of - humour was generally interwoven with the darkest threads of Cowper’s - life. He had always evinced a passion for animals, and had a fancy for - pets; and besides the hares (whose lives and deaths, if we may be - permitted a Hibernianism, he has rendered immortal), Cowper was the - proprietor of a flock of pigeons, which perched every morning on the - garden wall, awaiting the moment when their gentle master should - appear to give them breakfast. Still writing to Unwin, he says: ‘If - your wish should ever be fulfilled, and you obtain the wings of a - dove, I shall assuredly find you some fine morning among my flock; - but, in that case, pray announce yourself, as I am convinced your crop - will require something better than tares to feed upon.’ - - There is something very refreshing in his outburst of indignation at - the manner in which Dr. Johnson handles Milton, ‘plucking the - brightest feathers’ (or at least so Cowper thought) ‘from the Muse’s - wing, and trampling them under his great foot. I should like to thrash - his old jacket till his pension jingled in his pockets.’ He gives a - most amusing description of an unwelcome visitor at Olney, in which he - carefully draws the line between a ‘travelled man’ and a ‘travelled - gentleman.’ He speaks of the intruder’s long and voluble talk, which - set their favourite robins twittering through rivalry, neither the - birds nor the talker inclining to give in; but, ‘I am thankful to say - the robins survived it, and so did we.’ - - A delightful ray of human sunshine crossed the monotonous path of - Cowper’s life about this time, and for a period cheered and relieved - its grey and sombre colouring. Looking out of the window one - afternoon, he saw Mrs. Jones (the wife of a neighbouring clergyman) - entering the opposite shop, in company with a being (no other word - could be applicable), whose appearance riveted him to the spot. He - summoned Mrs. Unwin to his side, and requested she would ask both - ladies to tea. The stranger proved to be Mrs. Jones’s sister, a widow, - Lady Austen by name, lately returned from a lengthened sojourn in - France, where she appeared, by all accounts, to have become imbued - with a large portion of French vivacity, without losing any of those - sterling qualities or earnestness of purpose, for which we (at least) - give our fair countrywomen credit. The sisters accepted the - invitation, and, as they entered the room, Cowper, with his - characteristic timidity, made his escape at the other door. But the - attraction was too great; he soon stole back to the tea-table, plunged - headlong into conversation, and, when the ladies rose to take leave, - craved permission to accompany them part of the way home. In fact, he - had fallen in (Platonic) love at first sight. Lady Austen was soon in - the receipt of poems and letters, addressed to ‘Sister Anna.’ Mrs. - Jones having gone to join her husband in London, Lady Austen, finding - herself lonely, and surrounded, she said, by burglars, was easily - persuaded to settle at Olney, and at first under the same roof as - Cowper and Mrs. Unwin. It was a large rambling house. ‘She has taken - that part of the building formerly occupied by Dick Coleman, his wife, - child, and a thousand rats.’ - - We confess to sharing the opinion of the author of a charming sketch - of Cowper’s life, lately published, when he says, ‘That a woman of - fashion, accustomed to French _salons_, should choose such an abode, - with a couple of Puritans for her only society, surely proves that one - of the Puritans, at least, possessed some great attraction for her.’ - - The Vicarage was too large for the requirements of Mr. Scott (Newton’s - successor), whose sermons Lady Austen admired, though it was said he - scolded rather than preached the Gospel; and so it was settled she - should take rooms in his house, and the door of communication between - the Scott and Cowper gardens was opened. Cowper writes to Unwin on the - subject of the charming widow, and expatiates on the delightful change - wrought in their daily life by her advent. ‘Our society,’ he says, ‘is - not much increased, but the presence of one individual has made the - whole difference. Lady Austen and we pass the day alternately at each - other’s château. In the morning I walk with one or other of the - ladies; in the evening I wind thread;—so did Hercules, and so, I - opine, did Samson! Were either of these heroes living, I should not - fear challenging them to a trial of skill.’ - - Lady Austen became as watchful as his older associate in marking the - different phases of Cowper’s moods, and as assiduous in her endeavours - to cheer and amuse him. She would sit by his side for hours, and tax - her memory for anecdotes of foreign life, and the chequered scenes - through which she had passed; and while Mrs. Unwin set him to work on - moral satires, on ‘The Progress of Error,’ ‘Table-Talk,’ and, if we - may so express it, sermons in verse, his younger companion suggested - more lively themes for his Muse. One eventful evening, bent on - cheering the drooping spirits of the invalid, Lady Austen related to - him the wonderful adventures of John Gilpin. The poet laughed, laughed - immoderately, went to bed, woke in the night and laughed again and - again; and the next morning at breakfast he produced the immortal - poem. How many generations, how many children of all ages have laughed - since! how many artists have striven to portray their conception of - that famous ride, till it was reserved for the pencil of Caldecott to - embody (who can doubt it?) the very ideal of the poet’s fancy! Gilpin - became widely known, even while the author continued unknown. - Henderson, the popular actor, recited the ballad on the stage, and far - and near it was read and re-read with delight. Cowper now frequently - turned to Lady Austen for subjects, and followed her injunctions to - the letter when she playfully bade him ‘sing the sofa,’ on which she - sat. This poem swelled into ‘The Task’ and ‘The Task’ it was that made - Cowper famous. There is no doubt that the first stone of his future - fame was laid by the fair hand of that friend from whom he was so soon - to be separated. ‘The Task,’ while inculcating piety and morality (the - absence of which ingredients would have been impossible in any of - Cowper’s lengthened writings), abounded in exquisite descriptions of - life at home and abroad, paintings of Nature, of the quiet, homely, - lovely, loveable nature of his own native land, some passages of which - can scarcely be surpassed for calm beauty and musical rhythm. Let - those readers unacquainted with ‘The Task’ turn to the lines where the - poet stands, with the friend ‘whose arm has been close locked in his - for twenty years,’ on the eminence, when their ‘pace had slackened to - a pause,’ and judge for themselves of Cowper’s talents as a landscape - painter. His interiors are as perfect in their way. How irresistible - is the invitation to - - ‘Stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, - Let fall the curtains, draw the sofa round’! - - We feel, as we read, a glow of comfort and snugness, and would gladly - make a fourth beside the table, on which stand the cups that cheer - without inebriating. - - The success of ‘The Task’ was immediate and complete; the author - suddenly found himself famous and popular. The postmaster at the - little office at Olney had double work: acquaintances who had - neglected him for years now boasted of their intimacy with the lion of - the day; visitors arrived at Olney to stare at him; anonymous letters - and presents poured in on all sides. An amusing incident occurred one - day, when the clerk of All Saints’ Church, Northampton, was ushered - into Cowper’s presence. He had come, he said, with a petition to the - new poet: Would he consent to contribute the mortuary verses, annually - appended to the bills of mortality, in the capital of England’s most - midland county? - - Cowper advised the messenger to apply to Mr. Cox, a statuary in the - town, who wrote verses. ‘Alas!’ replied the clerk, ‘I have already got - help from him; but he is a gentleman of so much reading that our - townspeople cannot understand him.’ The very doubtful compliment thus - implied amused our poet into compliance, and he became a contributor - to the lugubrious periodical. - - It was characteristic of William Cowper that, a few years later, he - forbade Lady Hesketh to apply in his behalf for the office of - Poet-Laureate to the Court, yet he willingly accepted the office thus - proposed to him by the clerk of Northampton! - - We are now approaching one of the many sad episodes in Cowper’s sad - life; we allude to his estrangement from Lady Austen,—she who had been - for some time a vision of delight to his eye, and heart. Not long - before he had written some most unprophetic lines to his ‘dear Anna.’ - We do not quote them from any admiration for the verses, but because - they bear painfully on the subject:— - - ‘Mysterious are His ways, whose power - Brings forth that unexpected hour, - When minds that never met before - Shall meet, unite, and part no more.’ - - Further on, after describing the suddenness of their friendship, he - says:— - - ‘And placed it in our power to prove, - By long fidelity and love, - That Solomon has wisely spoken, - A _threefold cord_ cannot be broken!’ - - It appears that even the wisdom of Solomon is sometimes at fault, for - it was but a few weeks after that the threefold cord was rudely - snapped asunder. ‘I enclose,’ writes Cowper to Mr. Unwin, ‘a letter - from Lady Austen, which pray return. We are reconciled. She seized the - first opportunity to embrace your mother, with tears of the tenderest - affection, and I, of course, am satisfied.’ - - Lady Austen went away for a time; and later on, Cowper again writes to - Unwin, under the seal of profound secrecy: ‘When persons for whom I - have felt a friendship disappoint and mortify me, by their conduct, or - act unjustly by me, although I no longer esteem them, I feel that - tenderness for their character that I would conceal the blemish if I - could.’ Then, naming the lady to whom he alluded, he goes on: ‘Nothing - could be more promising, however sudden in its commencement, than our - friendship. She treated us with as much unreserve as if we had been - brought up together. At her departure she proposed a correspondence - with me, as writing does not agree with your mother.’ - - He then proceeds to tell how, after a short time, he perceived, by the - tenor of Lady Austen’s letters that he had unintentionally offended - her, and, having apologised, the wound seemed healed; but finding, on - repeated occasions, that she expressed ‘a romantic idea of our merits, - and built such expectations of felicity on our friendship, as we were - sure that nothing human could possibly answer, I wrote to remind her - that we were mortal, and to recommend her not to think too highly of - us, intimating that, when we embellish a creature with colours taken - from our own fancy, and extol it above its merits, we make it an - idol,’ etc. - - The reader, even if he be no poet, can supply the rest of this homily; - and if he be of our way of thinking, he will smile at the frequent use - of the plural pronoun. Neither will he be surprised to hear that the - letter in question ‘gave mortal offence,’ even though the writer had - read it aloud, before posting it, ‘to Mrs. Unwin, who had honoured it - with her warmest approbation.’ We still quote the correspondence with - William Unwin. ‘If you go to Bristol, you may possibly fall in with a - lady who _was_ here very lately. If you should meet, remember that we - found the connection on some accounts an inconvenient one, and we do - not wish to renew it; so pray conduct yourself accordingly. A - character with which we spend all our time should be made on purpose - for us, and in this case the dissimilitude was felt continually, and - consequently made our intercourse unpleasant.’ Now the strain of this - letter helps us to understand that the one written not long before to - Lady Austen was no sooner read than she flung it indignantly into the - fire. - - But so it was, and, for our part, we are loath to see the bright - vision, which had cast a halo over dull little Olney, vanish from the - horizon. Cowper’s biographers are all at issue as to the cause of this - estrangement, ‘it is so difficult to solve the mystery.’ To us the - only difficulty appears in the choice of solutions. Hayley, who - handles the matter with delicacy and discretion, says, ‘Those - acquainted with the poet’s _innocence and sportive piety_ would agree - that the verses inscribed to Anna might assuredly have been inspired - by a real sister.’ To him they appeared ‘the _effusions of a gay and - tender gallantry_, quite distinct from any amorous attachment.’ At the - same time, he sees the possibility of a lady, only called by that - endearing name, mistaking all the attentions lavished upon her, as ‘a - mere prelude to a closer alliance.’ - - The good-hearted, high-flown Hayley concludes by expressing his - sympathy with Cowper, as being ‘perplexed by _an abundance of - affection in a female associate_‘—surely he should have said a couple! - - The Rev. Mr. Scott, for some time Lady Austen’s landlord at Olney, is - reported to have said: ‘Who can wonder that two women, who were - continually in the society of one man, should quarrel, sooner or - later?’ - - Southey (an evident partisan of Mrs. Unwin’s), while acquitting Lady - Austen of any ‘matrimonial designs,’ urges that it would be impossible - for a woman of threescore to feel any jealousy in the matter of - Cowper’s affections. Now it strikes us that the woman of threescore - could herself have had no ‘matrimonial intentions,’ or she would have - carried them out long before. But is it likely that Cowper’s ‘Mary’ - would have tolerated a wife under the same roof, or tamely given the - _pas_ to an ‘Anna’? Cowper indeed called Mrs. Unwin his mother, and - Lady Austen his sister; but the former lady may have distrusted the - ambiguity of the latter elective relationship, knowing how frequently - the appellation of brother and sister has been used as a refuge from - the impending danger, of a nearer tie. - - Southey goes on to observe, in contradistinction, we suppose, to Mr. - Scott’s remark, that two women were shortly afterwards living - constantly in the society of the identical man, without one shade of - jealousy. Now Lady Austen and Lady Hesketh differed in all respects—in - age, in character, in discipline of mind. The former had been Cowper’s - early friend, and the _confidante_ of his love for her sister - Theodora; they had corresponded with each other for years; and in one - of his letters he says: ‘It seems wonderful, that, loving you as much - as I do, I should never have fallen in love with you. I am so glad I - never did, for it would have been most inconvenient,’ etc. - - Lady Hesketh now returned from a lengthened residence on the - Continent, her husband was dead, and the intercourse of old days was - renewed, in all its happy freedom, between the cousins. A few more - words respecting poor Lady Austen, and then her name shall be heard no - more. Cowper writes to Lady Hesketh a long letter on the subject, in - which he describes the rise, decline, and fall of the friendship, and - goes on in this strain: ‘At first I used to pay my _devoirs_ to her - ladyship every morning at eleven. Custom soon became law. When I began - “The Task,” I felt the inconvenience of this daily attendance; long - usage had made that which was at first optional, a point of good - manners. I was compelled to neglect “The Task,” for the Muse that had - inspired it.’ - - Hayley speaks in most flattering terms of Lady Austen, in his Life of - Cowper, and wrote one of the long-winded epitaphs of the day on her - death, which took place before he had completed the poet’s biography, - in the compilation of which she had given him much assistance. After - her estrangement from the Olney household, Lady Austen married a - Frenchman, one Monsieur de Tardif, who wrote verses to her in his own - language; she accompanied her husband to Paris in 1802, where she - died. - - As regards Cowper, one thing is certain: he did not subscribe to the - common error, that ‘two is company, and three none,’ but rather to the - German proverb, ‘Alle gute ding, sind drey;’ for he now summons Lady - Hesketh to his side. He entreats her to come and reside under his - roof, painting, in the most glowing colours, the happiness that her - society will afford them. He addresses her in the most tender, the - most affectionate terms—‘Dearly beloved cousin,’ ‘Dearest, - dearest,’—and often in the middle of his epistles he breaks forth - again into similar endearing epithets. Southey assures us that Mrs. - Unwin never felt a shade of jealousy for Lady Hesketh; but no one - tells us if such letters as these were read aloud to Mary, or - ‘honoured by her warmest approbation. Among the anonymous presents - which Cowper was now in the habit of receiving, was one more - acceptable than all others, and that not only because it enclosed a - cheque for fifty pounds, with a promise that the donation should be - annual, as he writes to Lady Hesketh (whom he appoints his ‘Thanks - Receiver-General,’ ‘seeing it is so painful to have no one to thank’), - but because the letter was accompanied by ‘the most elegant gift, and - the most elegant compliment, that ever poet was honoured with,’—a - beautiful tortoise-shell snuff-box, with a miniature on the lid, - representing a landscape, with the three hares frolicking in the - foreground; above and below two inscriptions, ‘Bess, Puss, Tiny,’ and - ‘The Peasant’s Nest.’ Southey had no doubt (neither would it appear - had Cowper himself, though he thinks it dishonourable to pry into the - incognito) that ‘Anonymous’ and Theodora were synonymous. He was now - hard at work translating Homer, and he longed to read what he had done - to Lady Hesketh, as well as to Mrs. Unwin. ‘The latter,’ he says, ‘has - hitherto been my touchstone, and I have never printed a line without - reference to her. With one of you at each elbow, I shall be the - happiest of poets.’ - - To the same: ‘I am impatient to tell you how impatient I am to see - you. But you must not come till the fine weather, when the greenhouse, - the only pleasant room in the house, will be ready to receive us, for - when the plants go out, we go in. There you shall sit, my dear, with a - bed of mignionette by your side, and a hedge of roses, honeysuckle, - and jasmine, and I will make you a bouquet of myrtle every day. Come, - come then, my beloved cousin, for I am resolved, whatever king may - reign, you shall be vicar of Olney.’ He hopes their friendship will be - perpetuated for ever; ‘For I should not love you half so well if I did - not believe you would be my friend to all eternity. There is not room - for friendship to unfold itself in full bloom, in such a nook of life - as this; therefore I am, and must, and always will be yours for - ever.—W. COWPER.’ - - In another letter he prepares her for the aspect of his peculiar - abode: ‘The entrance hall: opposite you, stands a cupboard, once a - dove-cot, and a paralytic table, both the work of the same author. - Then you come to the parlour door, which we will open, and I will - present you to Mrs. Unwin; and we shall be as happy as the day is - long.’ - - Lady Hesketh preferred separate lodgings, and, following in the - footsteps of Lady Austen, became a tenant of the Vicarage, and - inhabited the rooms so lately vacated by her predecessor. ‘All is - settled, dear cousin, and now I only wish for June; and June, believe - me, was never so much wished for, since it was first made. To meet - again, after so long a separation, will be like a resurrection; but - there is no one in the other world whose reappearance would cause me - so much pleasure.’ He prepares her for the possible recurrence of his - fits of dejection, but is sure he will be cheerful when she comes. In - a letter to Unwin, speaking of the long-looked-for arrival, he says: - ‘I have always loved the sound of church bells; but none ever seemed - to me so musical, as those which rang my sweet cousin into her new - habitation.’ Lady Hesketh, writing a description of Mrs. Unwin, says - she ‘is a very remarkable woman. She is far from being always grave; - on the contrary, she laughs _de bon cœur_ on the smallest provocation. - When she speaks on grave subjects, it is in a Puritanical tone, and - she makes use of Puritanical expressions; but otherwise she has a fund - of gaiety; indeed, but for that, she could not have gone through all - she has done. I do not like to say she idolises William, for she would - disapprove of the word; but she certainly has no will but his. It is - wonderful to think how she has supported the constant attendance and - responsibility for so many years.’ She goes on to describe the calm, - quiet, dignified old lady, sitting knitting stockings for her poet, - beside his chair, with ‘the finest needles imaginable.’ - - Cowper used to work in a little summer-house (which is still standing, - or was a few years since) of his own construction, where there were - two chairs indeed, but Lady Hesketh did not often intrude. He says of - himself about this time, that he was happier than he had been for - years. But there are some excellent people in the world, who consider - peace unwholesome, and like to throw stones into their neighbours’ - lakes, as schoolboys do, for the pleasure of ruffling the surface. - Cowper writes to William Unwin: ‘Your mother has received a letter - from Mr. Newton, which she has not answered, and is not likely to - answer. It gave us both much concern; but it vexed her more than me, - because I am so much occupied with my work that I have less leisure to - browse on the wormwood. It contains an implied accusation, that she - and I have deviated into forbidden paths, and lead a life unbecoming - the Gospel; that many of our friends in London are grieved; that many - of our poor neighbours are shocked; in short, I converse with people - of the world, and take pleasure therein. Mr. Newton reminds us that - there is still intercourse between Olney and London, implying that he - hears of our doings. We do not doubt it; there never was a lie hatched - in Olney that waited long for a bearer. We do not wonder at the lies; - we only wonder he believes them. That your mother should be suspected - (and by Mr. Newton, of all people) of irregularities is indeed - wonderful.’ - - The extent of their crimes, the head and front of their offending, - were drives with Lady Hesketh in her carriage, and visits to the - Throckmortons. We suspect that was an unpardonable offence (on account - of their being Roman Catholics) in Mr. Newton’s eyes. - - ‘Sometimes, not often, we go as far as Gayhurst, or to the turnpike - and back; we have been known to reach as far as the cabinetmaker’s at - Newport!’ And, O crowning horror! Cowper confesses to having once or - twice taken a Sunday walk in the fields with his cousin, for Mrs. - Unwin had never been led so far into temptation. Speaking of Lady - Hesketh, who came in for her share of censure, he says: ‘Her only - crime in Olney has been to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and - nurse the sick.’ The letters to Mr. Newton were in the same strain, - but modified in their expressions; for it was evident Cowper feared - his spiritual adviser, and, like some of our Roman Catholic friends, - subscribed to the infallibility of his Pope, even while harbouring - some secret misgivings on the subject. He ventures to observe: ‘As to - the opinion of our poorer neighbours, uneducated people are seldom - well employed when judging one another, but when they undertake to - scan the motives, and estimate the behaviour, of those whom Providence - has placed a little above them, they are utterly out of their depth.’ - - Gentle-hearted, generous-hearted Cowper; he not only forgave, but - continued his friendship and intercourse with his severe censor. Mr. - and Mrs. Newton were his guests after he had left Olney, and was - settled in his new house; and though the correspondence between the - two men slackened in some measure, and lost some of its unreserved - character, it was not discontinued. Neither did the poet refer to the - difference which had arisen, unless we accept such a passage as this, - as an allusion to Mr. Newton’s censoriousness. Speaking of the narrow - escape which Mrs. Unwin had run of being burned to death, he says: - ‘Had I been bereft of her, I should have had nothing left to lean on, - for all my other spiritual props have long since broken down under - me.’ It did indeed seem strange and cruel, that the only hand found to - throw a stone at the marble shrine of Cowper, and his Mary, should be - that of his own familiar friend. - - When Lady Hesketh came to investigate the resources of Olney, she - decided in her own mind that it was a most unfit place for her cousin - to inhabit,—cold, damp, and dreary; and she was not long in arranging - that her two friends should change their abode for a pretty little - house called Weston, belonging to Sir John Throckmorton, and standing - in a picturesque neighbourhood on the skirts of his park. Lady Hesketh - took all the trouble and expense of the removal on herself; furnished - and embellished the little house; and on the day she left Olney for - London, Cowper and Mrs. Unwin drove over to settle at Weston. But they - had not been there above a fortnight, before a sad blow fell upon them - both. News came that William Unwin was no more,—‘the only son of his - mother, and she was a widow;’ the dearly loved friend and constant - correspondent of Cowper. William Unwin was travelling with a friend, - whom he nursed to recovery through a dangerous attack of typhus; but, - catching the disease himself, he died in the hotel at Winchester. The - mother bore her irreparable loss, ‘with her accustomed submission to - the Divine will.’ Cowper dared not give way to emotion, but the shock - was none the less severe. His letters began to show signs of returning - illness and dejection; he marks down for his intimate friends all the - variations of the mental barometer. Alas! the storm signal was already - hoisted, and the tempest was at hand. He complained of sleeplessness: - ‘It is impossible, dear cousin,’ he writes, after explaining how - heavily the task of translation (he was busy on Homer) weighed on his - mind, ‘for a man who cannot sleep, to fight Homer’s battles.’ - Religious despondency once more took possession of his distracted - mind. Speaking of a visit to his old home at Olney, he says: ‘Dreary, - dark, cold, empty—it seemed a fit emblem of a God-forgotten, - God-forsaken creature.’ Insanity returned in all its distressing - symptoms; he again attempted self-destruction. Poor Mrs. Unwin came - into the room one day, just in time to cut him down. He would scarcely - let her out of his sight for a moment, and would allow no other person - to enter his presence. - - It is not our intention to dwell longer than necessary on these dark - passages in the sufferer’s life; suffice it to say, that, as on a - former occasion, the cure was instantaneous; and, after an interval of - several months, he once more took up the thread of his work and - correspondence. He tells Lady Hesketh he is mending in health and - spirits, speaks enthusiastically of the Throckmortons’ kindness, and - says that he has promised them she will soon be at Weston. ‘Come then; - thou art always welcome; all that is here is thine, together with the - hearts of those who dwell here.’ Alluding to her father’s declining - health, he ‘is happy not to have grown old before his time. Trouble - and anguish do that for some, which longevity alone does for others. A - few months ago I was older than he is now; and though I have lately - recovered, as Falstaff says, “some snatch of my youth,” I have but - little confidence, and expect, when I least expect it, to wither - again.’ In the midst of some melancholy reflections he breaks out - with: ‘Oh how I wish you could see the gambols of my kitten! They are - indescribable; but time, that spoils all, will, I fear, sooner or - later, make a cat of her.’ Then he relates, for his cousin’s - amusement, how a lady in Hampshire had invited him to her house, - bribing him with the promise of erecting a temple in her grounds ‘to - the best man in the world.’ Not only that, but, would she believe it, - a Welsh attorney has sent him his verses to revise and criticise! a - lady had stolen his poem of - - ‘A rose had been washed, just washed by a shower, - Which Mary (Mrs. Unwin) to Anna (Lady Austen) conveyed.’ - - ‘You must excuse it, if you find me a little vain, for the poet whose - works are stolen, and who can charm an attorney, and a Welsh one into - the bargain, must be an Orpheus, if not something greater.’ He was at - work again on Homer, and, when urged not to overtax his mind in so - doing, says he considers employment essential to his wellbeing. But - writing was irksome to him, and he found innumerable volunteers for - the office of secretary,—Lady Hesketh, Mrs. Throckmorton, young Mr. - Rose—a new but true friend,—and his favourite kinsman John, or Johnny, - Johnson, of Norfolk. - - Cowper and Mrs. Unwin had a succession of guests at The Hermitage, as - he sometimes called Weston; among others, Mr. Rose, an agreeable young - man, a great admirer of the poet’s, who writes his sister an account - of their life, and speaks of Lady Hesketh, ‘A pleasant and agreeable - woman, polite without ceremony;’ of Mrs. Unwin, ‘A kind angel;’ of - their amusing breakfasts, ‘which take an hour or more, to satisfy the - sentiment, not the appetite, for we talk, O heavens! how we talk!’ - - Cowper was much attached to Rose. Speaking of his departure: ‘When a - friend leaves me, I always feel at my heart a possibility that perhaps - we have met for the last time, and that before the return of summer, - robins may be whistling over the grave of one of us.’ - - Our poet was very fond of mere rhyming, and did not despise doggerel, - for we can call the Lines to his ‘dearest Coz,’ after the manner of - Shenstone, by no other name,—being an inventory of all his goods and - chattels, including the cap, so thoroughly identified with his image - in our minds. It was the fashion of the day, more especially for - literary men, to lay aside the heavy periwig, and don this most - unbecoming but, we imagine, more comfortable head-gear. - - ‘The cap which so stately appears, - With ribbon-bound tassel, on high,’ - - was the gift of his Harriet, and so were the bookshelves, the chairs, - tables,—all enumerated in verse—‘endearing his abode,’ by recalling - the memory of her, from whom he daily expects a visit, only she is in - attendance on - - ‘The oldest and dearest of friends, - Whose dial-plate points to eleven,... - And who waits but a passage to heaven.’ - - And the hour struck very shortly after, for Lady Hesketh’s father, - Ashley Cowper. - - In the sylvan glades of Yardley Chase, rich in fine old timber, stood - an ancient oak, the frequent goal of the poet’s rambles, to which he - wrote an address. The tree still bears his name, and ‘Cowper’s Oak’ is - the meeting-place of two packs of hounds. Many a bright morning since - our poet’s time have the woods of old Yardley echoed to the sound of - the huntsman’s horn and the baying of the deep-mouthed ‘beauties.’ - - One of his letters contains a most graphic description of how he and - Mrs. Unwin, returning from a ramble, fell in with the hounds, and, - climbing the broad stump of an elm in order to have a better view of - the proceedings, were actually in ‘at the death.’ It is delightful to - think of the poet and his Mary in such unexpected circumstances, for - they seem both to have been much excited. ‘And thus, dear cousin,’ as - Virgil says, ‘what none of the gods would have ventured to promise me, - time, of its own accord, has presented me with.’ - - A letter to his friend Mr. Hill proves how much pleasure a visit from - the Dowager Lady Spencer had afforded him. This remarkable woman, the - daughter of Stephen Poyntz, a distinguished diplomate, was the widow - of the first Earl Spencer, and mother of the beautiful Duchess of - Devonshire. She had made a long _détour_ to call on the poet, whose - works she much admired. And he says: ‘She is one of the first women in - the world; I mean in point of character and accomplishments. If my - translation prove successful, I may perhaps receive some honours - hereafter, but none I shall esteem more highly than her approbation. - She is indeed worthy to whom I should dedicate, and may my _Odyssey_ - prove as worthy of her.’ - - At length the happy hour arrived: Homer was translated and ready for - the press. The _Iliad_ was dedicated to his young relative, Earl - Cowper, and the _Odyssey_ to the Dowager Countess Spencer. - - He expressed himself well satisfied with his publisher, Johnson. ‘I - verily believe that, though a bookseller, he has the soul of a - gentleman! Such strange combinations sometimes happen.’ We give an - extract from a letter which he wrote on the conclusion of his Homeric - labours to his amanuensis, Johnny Johnson: ‘Dearest Johnny: now I can - give you rest and joy,—joy of your resting from all your labours, in - my service. But I can foretell that, if you go on serving your friends - at this rate, your life will indeed be one of labour. Yet persevere; - your rest will be all the sweeter hereafter; in the meantime I wish - you (whenever you need him) just such a friend as you have been to - me.’ - - He was very much attached to Johnny, and it was in allusion to his - young kinsman that he said: ‘I agree with Lavater, “Looks are as - legible as books, take less time to peruse, and are less likely to - deceive.”’ Johnny did the poet a good turn, for it was he who - suggested to his aunt, Mrs. Bodham, what a welcome present it would be - if she sent Cowper his mother’s picture,—a subject to which we have - already alluded. - - When Homer was concluded, Mrs. Unwin was most anxious that he should - undertake some new work, which would occupy his thoughts for some - considerable time. She dreaded the effect of idleness, or of the mere - desultory composition of occasional poems. And therefore she rejoices - that he has been prevailed upon to edit a magnificent edition of - Milton, to translate all his Latin and Italian poems, to select the - best notes of former commentators, and to add annotations of his own. - It was a wholesome task, though occasionally, under the pressure of - nervous dejection, Cowper cavilled at what he called the ‘Miltonic - trap.’ Mrs. Unwin, who had lately become enfeebled, had had a bad - fall, but fortunately escaped with some bruises, when one day she was - seized with giddiness, and would have again fallen to the ground, had - not Cowper saved her. There could be little doubt the attack was of a - paralytic nature, though her companion would not allow himself to - utter the fearful word. In this hour of utmost need an invaluable - friend was raised up in the person of William Hayley, whom Southey - designates as one of the most generous of men. We will let him speak - for himself, by giving an extract of his first letter to Cowper, - enclosing some complimentary lines. ‘Although I resisted the idea of - professing my friendship and admiration, from a fear of intrusion, I - cannot resist that of disclaiming an idea which I have heard has been - imputed to me, of considering myself your antagonist. Allow me to say, - I was solicited to write a Life of Milton before I had the least idea - that you and Mr. Fuseli were engaged on a similar project.’ He - concludes a most amiable letter to the man ‘whose poems have so often - delighted him,’ by saying, ‘If, in the course of your work, I have any - opportunity of serving and obliging you, I shall seize it with that - friendly spirit which has impelled me, both in prose and rhyme, to - assure you that I am your most cordial admirer.’ And thus, out of what - might have proved a misunderstanding, began that intercourse which - lasted Cowper’s life, and soothed his latter days. - - Speaking of Hayley’s visit to Weston, he says: ‘Everybody here has - fallen in love with him—and everybody must. We have formed a - friendship which will, I hope, last for life, and prove an edifying - example to all future poets.’ Hayley, on his part, writing to his - friend Romney, the painter, describes at length the welcome he had - received at Weston, his delight in Cowper’s society; and then as to - the grand article of females,—‘for what is a scene without a woman in - it? Here is a Muse of seventy, whom I perfectly adore; the woman who, - for so many years, has devoted her time and fortune to the service of - this tender and sublime genius. Not many days after this letter was - written, the two authors were returning from a morning ramble, when - the news met them that Mrs. Unwin had had a second paralytic stroke. - Cowper rushed forward into the house, and returned in such a state of - agitation as made Hayley tremble for his reason; ‘but, by the blessing - of God, I was able to quiet him in a great measure, and from that - moment he rested on my friendship, and regards me as providentially - sent to support him in a season of deepest affliction.’ - - Cowper will not accept his cousin’s proposal to come to Weston; for he - wishes his dear Harriet’s visits thither to be made for pleasure. Mrs. - Unwin’s health improved. ‘It is a blessing to us both, that, poor - feeble thing as she is, she has an invincible courage. She always - tells me she is better, and probably will die saying so; and then it - will be true, for then she will be best of all.’ Hayley, before, and - since leaving Weston, had urged Cowper to pay him a visit at what his - friends called his ‘little paradise’ at Eartham, on the south coast, - as soon as Mrs. Unwin’s state would allow her to travel. It must have - seemed a tremendous undertaking for those who had not strayed further - than a thirteen miles’ drive for upwards of thirteen years! But Cowper - believed the change of air might benefit his invalid; and that - determined him. - - In the interim he writes to his friend, Mr. Bull: ‘How do you think I - have been occupied the last few days? In sitting, not on cockatrice’s - eggs, but for my picture. Cousin Johnny has an aunt who is seized with - a desire to have my portrait, and so the said Johnny has brought down - an artist.’ - - To Hayley he writes:— - - ‘Abbot is painting me so true, - That, trust me, you would stare, - And hardly know, at the first view, - If I were here, or there!’ - - It was much to be regretted that, with no lack of kind and judicious - friends—and Hayley in particular, with his good sense and true - affection,—Cowper should have fallen about this time under the baneful - influence of a fanatic, one Teedon, a schoolmaster, who had long been - a pensioner on his and Mrs. Unwin’s bounty, at Olney. Cowper - constantly spoke of him in his letters to William Unwin and others as - foolish Mr. Teedon’s ridiculous vanity and strange delusions, who - prided himself on the immediate answers to any prayer he might - consider it advisable to put up, as also on wonderful spiritual and - audible communications. This empty-headed man became an object of - reverence rather than contempt in the eyes of Cowper, and of poor Mrs. - Unwin herself, in her debilitated state of health. Cowper began to - believe in Teedon, and to bend beneath his influence. Had Mr. Newton - not strained the spiritual curb too tightly, he would, in all - probability, have retained his hold over the minds of his two friends, - and not exposed them to the subjugation of one uneducated as Samuel - Teedon. But enough of this contemptible man. The friends now began to - prepare for the great enterprise, and we are not surprised to hear - Cowper say, ‘A thousand lions, monsters, and giants, are in the way; - but I suppose they will vanish if I have the courage to face them. - Mrs. Unwin, whose weakness might justify such fears, has none.’ A - coach, with four steeds, is ordered from London to convey them on - their desperate way; the journey is to be a species of royal progress. - ‘General Cowper, who lives at Ham—is Ham near Kingston?—is to meet me - on the road, ditto my friend Carwardine and others. When other men - leave home, they make no disturbance; when _I_ travel, houses are - turned upside down, people turned out of their beds at unearthly - hours, and every imaginable trouble given. All the counties through - which _I_ pass appear to be in an uproar. What a change for a man who - has seen no bustle, and made none for twenty years together!’ He is - scrupulous respecting the numbers that will accompany him,—‘for Johnny - of Norfolk, who is with us, would be broken-hearted if left behind.’ - It would be the same with his dog Beau, who paid a wonderful tribute - to Abbot’s portrait of his master, by going up to it, and wagging his - tail furiously; while Sam, the gardener’s boy, made a low bow to the - same effigy. - - The travellers reached Eartham at last, Hayley’s home, about six miles - from Chichester, and five from Arundel. ‘Here,’ writes Cowper on his - arrival, ‘we are as happy as it is possible for terrestrial good to - make us.’ He looked from the library window on a fine landscape, - bounded by the sea, a deep-wooded valley, and hills which we should - call mountains in Buckinghamshire. Hayley and Cowper were both very - busy with their several works in the morning, and Johnny, as usual, - was his cousin’s transcriber. The kind host, thinking to do honour to - his guest, invited the ex-Chancellor Thurlow to meet his old - acquaintance, but his Lordship would not come. There were, however, - pleasant visitors at Eartham, with whom Cowper fraternised,—Charlotte - Smith the novelist, and Romney the admirable painter. ‘Hayley has - given me a picture of himself by this charming artist, who is making - an excellent portrait of me in pastel.’ - - ‘Mrs. Unwin,’ he says, ‘has benefited much by the change, and has many - young friends, who all volunteer to drag her chair round the pretty - grounds.’ In spite of all these pleasant surroundings, the two friends - became home-sick, and returned to Weston, where they found (after the - manner of less gifted mortals) that chaos had reigned in their - absence. Cowper resumed his Miltonic labours, and began preparing - Homer for a new edition. ‘I play at push-pin with Homer every morning - before breakfast, furbishing and polishing, as Paris did his armour.’ - Speaking of his assurance in having undertaken works of such - importance, he quotes Ranger’s observation in the _Suspicious - Husband_: ‘There is a degree of assurance in your modest men, which we - impudent fellows never arrive at.’ - - Poor Cowper! He was again gradually sinking back into despondency, - though he combated the advances of the enemy as far as in him lay. ‘I - am cheerful on paper sometimes when I am actually the most dejected of - creatures. I keep melancholy out of my letters as much as I can, that - I may, if possible, by assuming a less gloomy air, deceive myself, and - improve fiction into reality.’ He is to sit for his portrait once more - to Lawrence, and he only wishes his face were moveable, to take off - and on at pleasure, so that he might pack it in a box, and send it to - the artist. On Hayley’s second visit to Weston, he found Cowper - tolerably well in appearance. Young Mr. Rose was there, the bearer of - an invitation from Lord Spencer, who wished Cowper to meet Gibbon. ‘We - did all we could to make him accept, urging the benefit he would - derive from such genial society, and the delight he would experience - from revelling in the treasures of the magnificent library. But our - arguments were all in vain; Cowper was unequal to the exertion.’ So - Rose and Hayley were his ambassadors to Althorp, laden with his - excuses. It is our intention to dwell as briefly as is consistent with - the narrative on the sad scenes now enacting at Weston. A fearful - relapse had befallen Cowper; Mrs. Unwin’s state bordered on - imbecility; and Lady Hesketh, who had lately taken up her abode with - her two afflicted friends, seemed powerless to cheer them, and Hayley, - whom she summoned to their aid, was shocked to find that Cowper - scarcely recognised him, and manifested no pleasure in his society. It - was with the greatest difficulty that he could now be induced to taste - food, and this system of course increased his malady, by reducing his - strength. One morning a letter arrived from Lord Spencer, announcing - that the long-looked-for pension had at length been granted,—a - circumstance which was a great relief to his friends, but, alas! - brought no satisfaction to the sufferer’s bewildered mind. Change of - air and scene were recommended. Lady Hesketh, whose own health was - greatly impaired, went to London, and Cowper and Mrs. Unwin were - conveyed into Norfolk under the kind charge of ‘Johnny’ Johnson. They - went first to a village called Tuddenham, and afterwards to Mundsley, - on the coast. Johnson accompanied Cowper in all his rambles, and one - day, calling on Mrs. Bodham, their cousin, to whom we have already - alluded, Cowper saw the portrait of himself painted by Abbot; he - looked at it for some time, and then, wringing his hands, uttered a - vehement wish that he were now as happy as when he sat for that - picture. - - He had always been very fond of coast scenery; and in one of his early - letters to William Unwin he speaks of his astonishment at the number - of people who can look on the sea without emotion, or, indeed, - reflection of any kind. ‘In all its various forms, it is an object of - all others most calculated to affect us with lasting impressions of - that awful Power which created and controls it. Before I gave my mind - to religion, the waves used to preach to me, and I always listened. - One of Shakespeare’s characters, Lorenzo, says: “I am never merry when - I hear sweet music.” The sight and the sound of the ocean, produces - the same effect on me that harmony did on Jessica.’ He began to write - again to Lady Hesketh, but his letters were most gloomy, and must have - been painful in the extreme for the recipient. - - In the first he thus expresses himself: ‘The most forlorn of beings, I - tread the shore, under the burthen of infinite despair, which I once - trod all cheerfulness and joy.’ He fancies the vessels he sees in the - offing were coming to seize him; he shrinks from the precipice of the - cliff on which he walks, though, perhaps, it would be better for him - to be dashed to pieces. A solitary pillar of rock seems an emblem of - himself: ‘Torn from my natural connections, I stand alone, in - expectation of the storm that shall displace me;’ and so on in the - same terrible strain. He begins to suspect his faithful friend Johnson - (whom he no longer calls ‘Johnny’) of wishing to control him, and - writes to Lady Hesketh, as if compelled to do so by stealth: ‘Dear - Weston! I shall never see Weston again, or you either. I have been - tossed like a ball to a far country, from which there is no rebound - for me.’ Johnson now moved his patients to a new residence, Dunham - Lodge, in the neighbourhood of Swaffham, and never slackened in his - attendance on his kinsman,—reading aloud to him for hours a series of - works of fiction, on which Cowper never made any comment, though they - appeared to rivet his attention. He tells Lady Hesketh, - notwithstanding, that he loses every other sentence, from the - inevitable wanderings of his mind. ‘My thoughts are like loose and dry - sand, which slips the sooner away the closer it is grasped.’ Cowper - could not bear now to be left alone, and if he were so for a short - time, he would watch on the hall door steps for the barking of dogs at - a distance, to announce his kinsman’s return. Mrs. Powley, Mrs. - Unwin’s daughter, came with her husband to visit her mother, and was - much touched by the affection which Cowper still manifested for his - Mary, even in moments of the deepest dejection. By degrees he was - induced to listen composedly, both to the reading of the Bible, and - also to family prayers, which at first his companions feared might - excite instead of soothing him. Johnson laid a kind trap in order to - coax the invalid into a renewal of his literary occupations. One day - he designedly mentioned in Cowper’s hearing, that, in the new edition - of Pope’s Homer, by Wakefield, there were some passages in which the - two translations were compared. The next morning he placed all the - volumes of the work in a large unfrequented room, through which Cowper - always passed on his way from his morning visit to Mrs. Unwin; and the - next day Johnson found, to his great satisfaction, that his kinsman - had examined the books, and made some corrections and revisions, an - occupation which Cowper continued for some little time with apparent - interest. But this improvement did not last long: the melancholy - household moved again to Mundsley, and then to Johnson’s own home, at - Dereham, which was considered less dreary than the house of Dunham - Lodge. It was there that, on the 17th of December, Mrs. Unwin, - Cowper’s faithful and devoted Mary, passed away from earth calmly and - peacefully. In the morning of that day, when the maid opened the - shutters, Cowper asked, ‘Is there still life upstairs?’ She died in - the afternoon, and he went up with Mr. Johnson to take a farewell - look; and, after silently gazing on the lifeless form for some time, - he burst into a paroxysm of tears, left the room, ‘and never,’ says - Hayley, ‘spoke of her more.’ - - Mrs. Unwin was buried by torchlight in the north aisle of Dereham - Church, where a marble tablet was placed to her memory. - - After this event there was little improvement, though some - fluctuations, in Cowper’s state. His friends, Lady Spencer, Sir John - Throckmorton, and others, came to visit him, but he showed no pleasure - in seeing them. He occasionally wrote short verses, especially Latin, - suggested to him by Johnson, made revisions and corrections, and a - longer poem, embodying the most gloomy thoughts, ‘The Castaway,’ from - an incident in one of Anson’s voyages, the last and saddest of his - works. - - ‘For misery still delights to trace - Its semblance in another’s case.’ - - The end was drawing near. Lady Hesketh was too unwell to go to him; - Hayley was in attendance on his dying son; Mr. Rose went to bid him - farewell, and Cowper, who had evinced no pleasure at his arrival, - mourned his departure. - - Johnson thought it now incumbent on him to prepare his friend’s mind - for the impending danger, to which Cowper listened patiently. But when - his kinsman thought to soothe him by speaking of the blessed change - from earthly sorrow to the joys of heaven, the unhappy listener broke - forth into wild entreaties that he would desist from such topics. - - On the 25th of April 1800, William Cowper expired, so quietly that not - one of the five persons who stood at his bedside was aware of the - exact moment. ‘From that time till he was hidden from our sight,’ says - his faithful and untiring watcher, Johnson, ‘his countenance was that - of calmness and composure, mingled, as it were, with _a holy - surprise_,’—words of deepest pathos, indissolubly connected with the - poet’s memory. They inspired Charles Tennyson Turner, our Laureate’s - worthy brother, with one of his most beautiful sonnets,—‘On Cowper’s - Death-smile’— - - ‘That orphan smile, born since our mourner died, - A lovely prelude of immortal peace.’ - - Cowper lies buried in the church at Dereham, where his cousin Harriet - placed a monument to his memory. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - A GIRL. - - _In a tawny gown and white cap._ - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - - EMILY, WIFE OF THE FIFTH EARL COWPER, AFTERWARDS VISCOUNTESS - PALMERSTON. - - _Yellowish-green gown. Pearl necklace. Floating scarf. Arms crossed. - She is holding a white hat and feathers. Background, a stormy sky._ - - BORN 1787, DIED 1869. - - BY HOPPNER AND JACKSON. - - - THE only daughter and youngest child of the first Viscount Melbourne, - by Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke. When only eighteen she - became the wife of Peter Leopold, fifth Lord Cowper, in the same year - that her brother William married Lady Caroline Ponsonby. We are - confident we cannot do better than quote some passages from an - article, published on Lady Palmerston’s death, by an eminent writer, - who was her personal friend: ‘On her marriage, Lady Cowper immediately - took her place amid that brilliant galaxy of beautiful and - accomplished women who continued to form the chief ornament of the - British Court, through successive reigns, till they were gradually - replaced (not outshone) by a younger race.’ He goes on to describe how - Lady Cowper was admired and distinguished in the brilliant seasons of - 1814 and 1815, on the occasion of the Royal and Imperial visits to - England. While speaking of later years, after her second marriage, he - says at that time coteries, cliques, and, above all, party - exclusiveness in politics, prevailed. But at Cambridge House there - were no such limitations. All classes—political, diplomatic, literary, - scientific, artistic—found a welcome, even the proverbially dull - ‘country cousin,’ who had any claim on Lady Palmerston’s notice; they - were all received with a gracious smile and a kind word by the amiable - hostess. Her country houses bore the same character for hospitality - and variety of attraction as the London dwelling, and foreigners, in - particular, were never tired of recording the delights of Panshanger, - Brocket (to which she succeeded on her brother’s death), and - Broadlands. The same biographer says of Lady Palmerston that she never - forgot a friend, or remembered an injury; and, speaking of her - devotion to her husband: ‘She was most jealous of his reputation, and - proud of his distinction as a Minister. Every night she sat up for him - until his return from the House of Commons, and her many anxieties on - his account were often hurtful to her health.’ After his death, her - circle was almost entirely restricted to her own family and - connections. - - Lady Palmerston was esteemed a most excellent ‘_man_ of business,’ - managing her vast property and large households with consummate skill. - She died in her eighty-second year. - - London in her time was especially rich in courtly beauties, the fame - of whose charms still survives: the Duchess of Rutland, Ladies Jersey - and Tankerville, Charlotte Campbell, and many other names, well known - to those who read the memoirs of the period. Among such formidable - competitors Lady Cowper held her own for grace and beauty, while she - far surpassed most of her contemporaries in intellectual gifts. She - was much attached to her brother, whose upward career was a source of - pride and satisfaction to her. But in early life she evinced no - personal interest in politics. - - Lord Cowper died in 1837; his widow married, in 1839, Lord Palmerston, - and from that moment she became immersed in political life, watching - with the keenest interest the public events which were passing around - her. - - Her brother, Lord Melbourne, was at this period at the head of the - Government, and ere long her husband was destined to occupy the same - position. Lady Palmerston now formed a _salon_, which continued for - the lapse of many years to constitute one of the greatest attractions - of London society. We use the word _salon_ advisedly, for these - assemblies bore a nearer resemblance, in character and quality, to the - _salons_ of Paris, than most congregations of guests to be met with in - a London drawing-room. - - This picture was begun by Hoppner, and finished after his death by - Jackson. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 10._ - - BOY. - - _In a dark grey coat. Buff waistcoat. White cravat._ - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - - GIRL. - - _Brown gown. White muslin handkerchief. Large straw hat. Basket on her - arm. She is seated._ - - BY HOPPNER. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - BILLIARD ROOM. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - BILLIARD ROOM. - - ------- - - _No. 1._ - - FREDERIC HENRY NASSAU, PRINCE OF ORANGE, STADTHOLDER. - - _Black and gold dress. Ruff. Gold chain. Sword._ - - BORN 1584, DIED 1647. - - BY MYTENS. - - - THE youngest child of William the Silent, Prince of Orange. Born at - Delft, christened with great rejoicings, and named after his two - godfathers, the kings of Denmark and Navarre. His mother, Louisa de - Coligny, had been early marked out for misfortune; her father, the - brave Gaspard de Chatillon, High Admiral of France, and her first - husband, the Sieur de Teligny, were both victims of the Massacre of - St. Bartholomew. So sad a fate has surely befallen few women, to see a - beloved parent and two husbands fall by the hands of cruel assassins. - When she was first left a widow, Louisa de Coligny escaped into - Switzerland, and after a time became the fourth wife of William the - Silent, Prince of Orange. During their short union, she endeared - herself to her husband and the whole country by the tender care she - bestowed on her step-children. At the time of William’s murder, - Frederic Henry was but an infant. ‘I am left,’ says the unhappy widow, - ‘with a six-months’ child, sole pledge of my dead lord, my only - pleasure and consolation.’ - - A letter to England gives a most pathetic account of a visit paid to - her a short time after the Prince’s murder. ‘I found the Princess,’ - says the writer, ‘in a most dark, melancholy little chamber; and it - was a twice sorrowful sight to behold her heaviness and apparel, - augmented by the wofulness of the place; and truly the perplexity I - found her in was not only for the consideration for things past, but - for that which might follow hereafter. The Princess de Chimay was with - her, herself a dolorous lady.’ - - The widow’s grief had been insulted by the discourse of an unfeeling - preacher at Leyden, who, alluding to the murder of the Prince, - attributed it to the vengeance of God on the ‘French marriage,’ and - the wicked pomp with which the child’s christening had been - solemnised. - - Motley’s portrait of Louisa deserves to be transcribed: ‘A small, - well-formed woman, with delicate features, exquisite complexion, and - very beautiful dark eyes, that seemed in after years, as they looked - from beneath her coif, to be dim with unshed tears; remarkable powers - of mind, sweetness of disposition, a winning manner, and a gentle - voice.’ - - Such a woman soon became dear to the honest Hollanders, and was indeed - a good monitress, not only to her own child, but to Prince Maurice, - who loved and honoured her, and was inclined on most occasions to - listen to her counsels. - - She devoted herself in the first years of her widowhood to - superintending the education of Frederic Henry or Henry Frederic, as - he is called by different historians. The Stadtholder, Maurice, seems - to have been much attached to his half-brother, who, while still a - child, proved his apt and willing scholar in the art of warfare. The - boy stood under fire for the first time when only thirteen, and was - with the army when the siege of Nieuport was projected. Now, this - enterprise was considered so hazardous, that Maurice determined his - brother should remain in a place of safety, on whom, in the event of - his own death, the hopes of the nation would be centred. But this - decision was most repugnant to the brave boy’s inclinations, and he - besought the General, with clasped hands and urgent prayers, to allow - him to share in the glory and danger of the day. There was too much - sympathy between those two noble spirits that Maurice should find it - in his heart to withstand the young soldier’s persistent supplication. - He sent for a new suit of armour, in which Frederic, bravely equipped, - side by side with his young kinsman, De Coligny, participated in the - honours of that memorable victory. - - In the early days of his government, Maurice had pledged himself to - his stepmother to remain unmarried, by which means her son would - succeed as Stadtholder; but it was supposed that he went further, and - whispered to her that Frederic should inherit a kingly crown if the - Princess would assist him in obtaining the sovereignty, which he - (Maurice) so ardently desired. - - In 1605 the young Prince was in command of a body of veterans in an - attack on the Spaniards, at Mühlheim, by the Rhine, when Maurice, - riding up on the opposite shore, perceived with dismay that a panic - had seized the usually steady and valiant troops. He saw his brother - fighting manfully in the thickest of the fray, his gilded armour and - waving orange plumes making him the aim of every marksman. On that - occasion, at all events, Maurice did not ‘keep silence.’ He tore up - and down the bank, taunting and cursing the soldiers who were - deserting their brave young commander, and his loud and angry - expostulations rallied the fugitives, and saved his brother’s life. - - When the exiled King and Queen of Bohemia arrived at the Hague, to ask - shelter and protection from the House of Orange, Elizabeth brought in - her train the faithful and favourite Amelia de Solms, a young lady - whose intelligence and beauty made a deep impression on the heart of - Prince Frederic. There is some little difficulty in reconciling the - different accounts, as the Queen speaks of the lovers’ entire - devotion; yet we are told that Maurice threatened Frederic that, if he - did not make up his mind to marry the German lady, he would himself - espouse a Mademoiselle de Merck, by whom he had already had more than - one child, who would in that case be accepted by the law of that land - as legitimate. - - The Queen of Bohemia, in writing to an English correspondent, says: ‘I - am sure you heere already of the Prince of Orange’s marriage with one - of my women, the daughter of Count de Solms, who served the King in - Heidelberg. She is verie handsome and goode. She has no money, but he - has enough for both.’ - - To return to more public matters. A short time after Maurice’s death - the stronghold of Breda was taken by Spinola. This general had - besieged the place for so long, and had been so much disheartened by - plausible reports of the enemy’s resources, that he asked permission - of the Spanish King to raise the siege. The answer was laconic and - peremptory, ‘_Marquez, sumais Breda. Yo el Rei._‘ There was no - questioning such a command, and Spinola prosecuted the attack with - redoubled energy. In the meantime, the garrison was suffering from - hunger and privations of all kinds; and a mutinous spirit was - spreading so fast as to induce the brave governor, Justin of Nassau - (an illegitimate son of William the Silent), to ask the Prince to - allow him to capitulate. - - Frederic replied that he considered it advisable to do so, remarking - at the same time that if Spinola did but know the real state of the - case, he would not be likely to grant very honourable terms. This - letter fell into the hands of the enemy, but the writer misjudged his - generous-hearted foe. With the true ‘garbatezza italiana,’ Spinola - (undeterred by the indignant opposition of most of his officers) gave - orders that the Dutch troops should march out with colours flying, - drums beating, and all the honours of war. He also granted them leave - to carry away many valuables, more especially all the personal - property of the late Prince Maurice. Still further to prove his - respect for the courage displayed by the garrison, he watched them as - they sallied forth, lifting his hat with graceful courtesy, and - exchanging salutations with his noble adversaries. - - When the King of Bohemia died, he recommended his widow and children - in the most urgent terms to the protection of the States-General and - the Stadtholder, to whom Elizabeth also drew up a memorial, in which, - after speaking of her profound grief, she goes on to say: ‘My first - great resource is in Heaven; next to that Divine trust, I confide in - you; nor will I doubt that to me and my children will be continued - that friendship so long manifested to my lamented consort. It is for - you to shelter those who suffer for truth and righteousness’ sake.’ - - The Royal petitioner was liberally dealt with, and the generous - allowance which Maurice (whom she called her second father) had - allotted her, was continued. - - Frederic, on succeeding to the government, had found the country in a - ferment of religious and political discord; and he endeavoured to - exercise a tranquillising influence both at home and abroad. He would - gladly have made peace with Spain if he could have done so with - honour, but this was impossible; and he took the field fired with all - the military ardour which had ever distinguished the House of Orange. - - In his successive campaigns against the Spaniards, he achieved, for - the most part, brilliant victories, possessing himself, one after - another, of places of the greatest importance. But although - distasteful to himself and the country at large, yet, from motives of - policy, he was induced to enter into an alliance with France, and - maintained a frequent correspondence with the Minister, Cardinal - Richelieu. On the surface of things they were friends, but Richelieu - hated the Stadtholder, and was said to have employed Frederic’s own - valet as a spy on his master’s actions. In 1637 the all-powerful - Cardinal, anxious to propitiate Holland, sent the Count de Charnacé as - ambassador to the Hague, who, in the presence of the assembled States, - addressed Frederic as ‘Prince’ and ‘Highness,’ instead of Excellency, - the title he had hitherto borne. The Stadtholder was not insensible to - the distinction, more particularly as the example set by France was - followed by all the Royal houses in Europe. - - He further added to the dignity and importance of his family by - uniting his son with the Princess Mary, daughter to Charles I. of - England, a marriage which afforded general satisfaction. There were - great festivities at the Hague on the occasion, and we are told that - ‘the Queen of Bohemia and her fair daughters contributed not a little - to enhance the grace and beauty of the Court pageants.’ The Dutch - continued their victories both by sea and land, their naval - engagements in particular being most brilliant. Henry Frederic’s last - feat of arms was to complete the frontier line, which his skill and - valour had helped to ensure to his country; and the Spaniards were at - length compelled to acknowledge the independence of those Provinces - already united. The Stadtholder was not permitted long to enjoy the - improved aspect of affairs. He died in March 1647, during the session - of the Congress of Münster, and was buried with great splendour at the - Hague. He left one son, William, and four daughters, by Amelia de - Solms, who survived him several years, residing at the Hague, where - she had built a fine palace, and amassed a large fortune. Henry - Frederic was of a noble presence, well formed, and robust; his - disposition was modest and temperate, and his manners gracious and - conciliating. He was a scholar, as well as a soldier, and dictated to - one of his officers memoirs of his principal campaigns, which were - much esteemed. He had none of Maurice’s personal ambition, and never - aspired to the sovereignty. But ‘if it were a sin to covet honour, he - was the most offending soul alive.’ His son succeeded him as - Stadtholder, but died at the early age of twenty-four, leaving his - young widow with child, of a Prince, afterwards William III., King of - England. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - SENATOR OF ANTWERP. - - _Black dress. Black skull-cap. White ruff and cuffs. Sitting in an - arm-chair._ - - BY WILLEBORT. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 3._ - - MAURICE OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF ORANGE, STADTHOLDER. - - _In armour[1], Holding a truncheon. The other hand rests on a table - beside his helmet. Orange plume and sash._ - - BORN 1567, DIED 1625. - - BY MIEREVELDT. - - -Footnote 1: - - ERRATUM: _for_ “In armour” _read_ “In fuller dress than usual.” - - - THE second son of William, Prince of Orange, surnamed ‘the Silent’ by - Anne of Saxony, who was repudiated on account of her misconduct. - Maurice was born at the Castle of Dillenbourg; his elder brother, - Philip, had been kidnapped from school, and carried to Spain, where he - became (says Motley) so completely Hispaniolised, both in appearance - and inclinations, as to lose all feeling of patriotism. But his filial - love was never eradicated, and on one occasion, when a Spanish officer - presumed to speak slightly of his illustrious father, Philip flung the - offender headlong from the window of the palace, and killed him on the - spot. It was on the 10th of July 1584 that the hand of a hired - assassin cut short the career of one of the greatest and best men that - had ever illuminated the page of history; Maurice was at that time - pursuing his education at Leyden; and the boy’s tutors had received - strict orders not to allow him to stray by the sea-shore, lest his - brother’s fate should befall him, as it was from that place Philip had - been stolen. William had died deeply in debt; he had spent his - revenues in the service of his beloved country, and at his death there - was no ready money for his widow (Louisa de Coligny), the - step-children to whom she was fondly attached, or her own infant son. - The Prince’s effects were sold for the good of his creditors,—plate, - furniture, tapestries, his very clothes; but this done, the - States-General came forward liberally, and settled a good allowance on - the Princess and her charges. For Maurice (whom they selected as his - father’s successor) they provided most generously, and, impressed by - his promising qualities, and the earnestness and decision of purpose - which he early evinced, they offered to place him at the head of the - States Council, a provisional executive board, for the government of - those Provinces comprised in the union. He was doubtless a remarkable - youth. A letter to Queen Elizabeth extols ‘this flaxen-haired, gentle - boy of seventeen years, his towardness, good presence, courage, - singular wit, and learning,’ while another account describes ‘his - chiselled features, full red lips, dark blue eyes (elsewhere they are - called hazel) with a concentration above his years.’ He was - universally pronounced to resemble his maternal grandfather, the - celebrated Maurice of Saxony, both in appearance and character, and in - nowise to favour his mother, who had been pale and deformed. When - offered the important post Maurice took two days to consider; but he - was not one to shrink from responsibility, and his acceptance was - dignified and modest. He had already selected a device and motto, and - nobly did he redeem the pledge in its wider sense: a fallen oak, with - a young sapling springing from it, ‘Tandem fit surculus arbor.’ And - verily the twig soon became a tree, and a noble one. - - The country so lately, and now only partially, emancipated from the - detested yoke of Spain, looked anxiously round for alliance with some - foreign power, to assist in opposing King Philip and his formidable - generals. - - Negotiations were commenced, and carried on at great length, with - France, to whose king the sovereignty of the Provinces was offered. - Against this measure Maurice made a most spirited and eloquent appeal - to the Council: he dwelt on all the evils which would accrue from such - a step, reminding his hearers of the services which his family had - rendered, and the misfortunes they had undergone in the cause of - patriotism; furthermore, how nearly they had bestowed the sovereignty - on his late father,—beseeching them not to forget the interests of the - house of Nassau; and he concluded by assuring them, that, young and - inexperienced as he was, he trusted that his zeal and devotion might - be of some avail to his country. His speech was much applauded for its - eloquence; but the negotiations with France were not discontinued, - although after a time they were transferred to England. It seems - certain that the youthful ruler indulged in early hopes of securing - the title of King for himself, but, in default of this, he appears to - have leaned to the notion of the government of Elizabeth, in - preference to that of any other alien. She had always been a staunch - upholder of Protestantism, had been generous to his family in - financial matters, and had always expressed herself in friendly terms - towards the house of Orange; besides, England was a powerful and - desirable ally. Notwithstanding all these considerations, Maurice did - not, as he pithily expressed himself, ‘wish to be strangled in the - great Queen’s embrace.’ - - Bess was a coquette in politics as well as love, and for a time seemed - inclined to listen to the overtures made her by the States-General, - but she finally refused. Desirous, however, of exercising some - influence in the country, she sent over her prime favourite, the Earl - of Leicester (with his gallant nephew, Sir Philip Sidney), at the head - of a large contingent of British troops. He had stringent rules laid - down for his conduct, most of which he infringed. Not long after his - arrival he was inaugurated in the post of Governor-General of the - United Provinces, with supreme military command by land and sea, and - authority in matters civil and political. In these capacities the - States proffered him an oath of fidelity, a step in which Maurice - himself was reluctantly compelled to join. Leicester’s whole conduct - in the Netherlands was actuated by overweening ambition and the basest - covetousness; while in accepting such high-sounding titles he incurred - the Queen’s anger,—‘acting in direct opposition,’ says Motley, ‘to the - commands of the most imperious woman in the world.’ - - A courtier at home, no way friendly to the arrogant favourite, told - Elizabeth how Leicester’s head was turned by the honours heaped on - him, and how he had sent over to England to bid his Countess join him, - with a suite, and all appliances, in order to form a Court equal in - splendour to her own. ‘Indeed!’ was the angry reply; ‘we will teach - the upstarts that there is but one Queen, and her name is Elizabeth; - and they shall have no other Court but hers!’ - - To return to Maurice: John Barneveldt (who had constituted himself the - youth’s political guardian), although opposed to the idea of his - elevation to a throne, stoutly advocated his nomination to the post of - Stadtholder, a measure that was carried after a severe struggle. It - was by the side of this trusty friend that the young Prince first went - into action; but his first military achievement was planned and - carried into execution jointly with Sir Philip Sidney, namely, the - taking of Axel, an important stronghold, which they carried without - the loss of a single man in the combined forces of the English and - Dutch troops. - - A close friendship existed between Maurice of Nassau and our gallant - countryman, in spite of the latter’s near relationship to the - obnoxious Leicester, who had warned his nephew to be prudent in his - dealings with Maurice. ‘I find no treachery in the young man,’ was the - reply, ‘only a bold and intelligent love of adventure.’ The two brave - soldiers maintained their brotherhood in arms, until the fatal day - when Sir Philip received his death-wound at the battle of Zutphen. His - undaunted courage and proverbial humanity gained him the love and - admiration of his allies and countrymen, and the respect of his - enemies. - - In 1587 Leicester was recalled by the Queen, and compelled to return - to England. He was detested by the majority of the Dutch nation, who - had by this time discovered his plots and treacherous schemes, and his - departure cleared the way for the further display of Maurice’s - political and military talents. He was nominated Governor - Commander-in-chief of five out of the seven United Provinces which - formed the Confederacy: and no one could surely have been better - fitted for such responsible posts. In the early days of his government - he was inclined to leave the reins in the hands of Barneveldt, while - he devoted himself theoretically, as well as practically, to the study - of war. His leisure hours were passed in forming combinations and - executing manœuvres with pewter soldiers; in building up and battering - down, in storming and carrying wooden blocks of mimic citadels; in - fact, in arranging systems of attack, pursuit, retreat, and defence on - his table, all of which he afterwards most effectually carried out on - the field of actual warfare; while for hours together he would pore - over the works of classical authors in the art of strategy. - - Maurice introduced the strictest discipline into the army, but he was - the friend and comrade of his soldiers, sharing their privations, and - exacting for them, from the hands of the Government, the pay which had - of late been but too irregularly disbursed. His clemency to his - prisoners formed a brilliant contrast to the cruelties practised by - most of the Generals of his time, barring one or two occasions, when - driven to take reprisals. This he did, indeed, as a warning to the - Spaniards not to deal hardly with the Dutch who had fallen into their - hands. He was most severe on his own soldiers for disobedience of - orders; and with his own hand he shot one of his men, who had been - convicted of plundering a peasant. - - The campaigns of 1590-92 against the Spanish troops were for the most - part as successful as they were brilliant, and in 1596 an alliance, - offensive and defensive, was concluded with France and England. - - Maurice’s victories on the Rhine were so important as to induce the - Spanish king to offer him most flattering terms, which were refused, - and the war continued. We have neither space nor inclination to enter - on the history of Maurice’s campaigns. How could we do so in our - limited space, or attempt the military memoirs of a general who was - said to have won three pitched battles, to have taken thirty-eight - strong towns and forty-five castles, and to cause the enemy to raise - twelve sieges—the great general of the age, ‘the chief captain of - Christendom,’ as Queen Elizabeth called him—the rival in arms of the - formidable Spinola? - - Yet we cannot resist the temptation of alluding to one or two passages - in his military life which have a picturesque or characteristic side - to the occurrence. - - The taking of Zutphen was one of those ingenious _ruses de guerre_ in - which Maurice delighted. One bright morning five or six peasants, with - their wives, made their appearance under the walls of the town, laden - with baskets of provisions,—no uncommon, yet a tempting sight. They - sat down on the grass, and had not long to wait before several - soldiers of the garrison came out, and began bartering for the - contents of the said baskets. Suddenly a woman drew a pistol from - under her petticoat, and shot the man dead who was haggling over the - price of her eggs. - - In a moment, the peasants, transformed into soldiers, sprang on the - guard, overpowered, bound them, and took possession of the gate; while - a large body of men, who had been lying in ambush, rushed to their - assistance, and, following up the advantage, carried the place without - the loss of a single man on their side. - - Maurice of Orange, unlike the first Napoleon, was a great economiser - of life, although so unchary of his own, that he was reprimanded in - his youth by the States for rashly exposing himself to danger. - - The Spaniards thought to depreciate his strategical talents by saying, - ‘Qu’il ne sçavoit, que le méstier des taupes, de se tapir en terre;’ - but he was as successful in open warfare as he was ingenious in - stratagem. The taking of Nieuport, which for some time seemed a - forlorn hope, was one of his most memorable victories. It resulted in - the precipitate flight of the Archduke Albert (the governor of that - portion of the Netherlands still under Spanish rule), and the entire - rout of his army; and this at the very moment that the Infanta - Isabella (Albert’s wife), reckoning without her host, was expecting to - see the Prince of Orange brought into her presence—a prisoner. More - than once during the battle the fortunes of the patriots seemed to - tremble in the balance; but Maurice’s calmness never forsook him, and - his devoted soldiery emulated their General in courage and - determination. When assured that the day was gained, the hero, who had - been unmoved in danger, was overcome by emotion. He leaped from his - saddle, and, kneeling in the sand, raised his streaming eyes to - heaven, exclaiming, ‘O God, what are we human creatures, to whom Thou - hast brought such honour, and vouchsafed such a victory?’ - - So total was the discomfiture of the Spaniards, so hasty their - retreat, that they left a precious booty for the Dutch, in the shape - of ammunition, treasure, and baggage. Amongst other personal property - of the Archduke, his favourite charger fell to the share of an officer - in the Stadtholder’s army, who had often heard the Prince express - great admiration for the horse in question. He therefore lost no time - in presenting his prize to the General. Now, in the possession of Lord - Powerscourt, there is an exquisitely finished cabinet portrait of the - great captain, in gorgeous armour, mounted on a milk-white barb, with - a wondrous luxuriance of mane and tail, which nearly sweep the ground. - We often hear of a horse who seems to take pride in carrying his - master; but here the case is obviously reversed. The rider is proud of - his horse. The Prince evinces an undoubted pride in the milk-white - steed he mounts, and he called upon his favourite painter, Miereveldt, - to immortalise his treasure. With such strong circumstantial evidence, - we may surely take it for granted that Lord Powerscourt’s gem - illustrates our anecdote of the victory of Nieuport. - - One more example of our hero’s strategical powers, and we have done. - The taking of Breda was so ingeniously conceived, so bravely executed, - that we cannot pass it over in silence. The grand and strongly - fortified castle which dominated the town of Breda had once been the - residence of the Nassau family, and was indeed, by law, the property - of Prince Maurice. It was in the hands of the enemy, garrisoned by a - large band of Italian soldiers, under the command of the Duke of - Parma, who was however absent at the time of which we are speaking, - the Duke having left a young compatriot in command, Lanza Vecchia by - name. One night, when quartered at the Castle of Voorn, in Zeeland, - Maurice received a mysterious nocturnal visit from a certain boatman - called Adrian, who had once been a servant in the Nassau family, and - was now employed in carrying turf for fuel into the Castle of Breda. - Adrian offered his boat and his services to the Prince, assuring him - that the little vessel could enter the water-gate without suspicion. - The notion was after Maurice’s own heart. He took counsel with - Barneveldt, and it was arranged that the boatman should be at a - certain ferry the next night at twelve o’clock. The carrying out of - this daring scheme was, by Barneveldt’s advice, intrusted to one - Heraugière, a man of undoubted valour, who having fallen into - temporary disgrace, would be most willing (urged his advocate) to - redeem his character with the General. Sixty-eight men were selected - from different regiments, with three officers as his comrades in the - hazardous enterprise, who all proceeded to the rendezvous at the - appointed hour. Adrian himself did not appear. His heart failed him, - and he sent two nephews in his stead, whom he designated as - ‘dare-devils.’ It was certainly no undertaking for faint hearts to - embark in. The devoted little band went on board the boat, and stowed - themselves away as best they might under the piles of turf with which - the bark was ostensibly laden. Everything seemed leagued against them: - fog, sleet, large blocks of ice, impeded their progress, while the - weather proved most tempestuous, and the wind contrary. - - From Monday night till Thursday morning seventy men lay huddled - together almost suffocated, enduring hunger, thirst, and intense cold - without a murmur, without regret at having undertaken so perilous a - duty. At one time they were compelled to creep out and steal to a - neighbouring castle, in order to procure some refreshment, and it was - not till Saturday morning that they entered the last sluice, and all - possibility of retreat was at an end,—that handful of men, half frozen - with cold, half crippled by confinement to so small a space, to cope - with a whole garrison of vigorous and well-fed soldiers! An officer - came on board to inspect the fuel, of which he said they stood sorely - in need, and went into the little cabin, where the hidden men could - see him plainly, and hear every word he uttered. No sooner had he gone - on shore than the keel struck against some obstruction. The vessel - sprang a leak, and began to fill. - - All was surely now lost, and the men who came to unload the boat made - her safe, close under the guard-house, and proceeded with their work. - To add to the soldiers’ danger, the damp and cold had brought on fits - of sneezing and coughing, which it was most difficult to resist. One - of these gallant men, who well deserved his name of ‘Held,’[2] feeling - his cough impossible to control, drew his dagger and besought the - soldier next him to stab him to the heart, lest he should cause the - failure of the enterprise and the destruction of his comrades. But - thanks to the ingenuity of the skipper, this noble fellow lived to - glory in the success of the undertaking, and his name still lives in - the hearts and memory of his countrymen. The dare-devil came to the - rescue; he set the pumps going, which deadened every other sound, and - there he stood, worthy of the sobriquet his uncle had given him, - exchanging jokes with the labourers and the purchasers, and at length - dismissing them all with a few stivers for ‘drink-geld,’ saying it was - much too late to unload any more turf that night. - -Footnote 2: - - Hero. - - So they all departed, excepting the servant of the captain of the - guard, who was most difficult to get rid of, chattering and gossiping, - and complaining of delay. - - ‘Be content,’ said the skipper, one of those men who must have his - joke, even in moments when life and death are at stake; ‘the best part - of the cargo is at the bottom, and it is reserved for your master. He - is sure to get enough of it to-morrow.’ - - The dare-devil’s words were verified to the letter; a little before - midnight the Dutch entered the town, killed every man in the - guard-room, and took possession of the arsenal. The garrison fled in - all directions, and the burghers followed their example, young Lanza - Vecchia, although himself wounded, striving in vain to rally his men. - - Count Hohenloe, brother-in-law to Maurice, was the first to enter the - town at the head of large reinforcements, shortly followed by the - Prince himself. The despatch sent to Barneveldt was as follows: ‘The - castle and town of Breda are ours. We have not lost a single man. The - garrison made no resistance, but fled distracted out of the town.’ - - How reluctantly we turn the page whereon Maurice’s golden deeds are - inscribed, and come to a new episode in his life, on which a dark - shadow rests! Little by little the differences of opinion which had - long existed between the Stadtholder and the Advocate Barneveldt - ripened into open enmity. The latter was at the head of the peace - party, while Maurice declared for continuous warfare, in spite of - which a general truce of several years was concluded, beneath which - the Prince’s restless spirit chafed and fretted. - - There could also be little doubt that Maurice aimed at a crown, while - Barneveldt was a staunch republican. A more deadly cause of enmity was - now springing up, for the torch of religious discord was aflame in - Holland, between two opposing sects, the Gomarites and the Arminians. - The former accused the latter of being more lax than the Papists, - while the Arminians loudly declared the Gomarites to be cruel and - intolerant, and the God they worshipped unjust and merciless. - - For the most part, the clergy, with many of the upper classes, headed - by Maurice and his family, favoured the Gomarites; while Barneveldt, - with the municipal body, upheld the Arminian doctrines. Political and - religious differences waxed fiercer each day that passed, and Maurice - forgot all he owed to the guardian of his youth. - - Barneveldt’s star was setting; slander and calumny of all kinds were - busy with the name of this single-minded, large-hearted old man, whom - the Stadtholder did not disdain in his anger to accuse of secret - negotiations with Spain. In a letter to the Prince, Barneveldt bewails - their estrangement, for which he had ‘given no cause, having always - been your faithful servant, and with God’s blessing, so will I - remain.’ - - He went on to say he had done good service to the State for upwards of - forty years, and as far as religious opinions went, he had never - changed. But neither his public nor private appeals stood him in good - stead: he was denounced as a traitor and a sceptic; libellous - pamphlets, shameful and absurd accusations, were disseminated against - him. One great bone of contention between the two sects was the - convening of a Synod, on which the Stadtholder and the States had - determined. To dissuade the Prince from this step, the Advocate asked - an interview, which was granted. Here is the picture, drawn by a - master hand: The Advocate, an imposing magisterial figure, wrapped in - a long black velvet cloak, leaning on his staff, tall, but bent with - age and anxiety, haggard and pale, with long grey beard, and stern - blue eyes. What a contrast to the florid, plethoric Prince!—in big - russet boots, shabby felt hat encircled by a string of diamonds, his - hand clutching his sword-hilt, and his eyes full of angry menace,—the - very type of the high-born, imperious soldier. Thus they stood and - surveyed each other for a time, those two men, once fast friends, - between whom a gulf was now fixed. Expostulations, recriminations, - passed, Barneveldt strongly deprecating the idea of the Synod, which - he was well assured would only lead to more ill feeling rather than to - any adjustment of differences; in answer to which Maurice curtly - announced that the measure was decided on, and then opposed a stubborn - silence (as was his wont when thwarted) to all the arguments and - eloquence of the Advocate. That meeting was their last on earth. - - Not long after this interview, as Barneveldt was one day sitting in - his garden, he was visited by two friends, of authority in the State, - who had come to warn him of the plan that had been formed for his - arrest. He received the intelligence calmly, remarking he knew well - ‘there were wicked men about;’ then, lifting his hat courteously, he - added, ‘I thank you, gentlemen, for your warning.’ He continued his - steady course as heretofore, and was accordingly shortly afterwards - arrested on his way to the Session, and lodged in prison; his intimate - friend, the learned Grotius, and several other leading members of the - Arminian community, were imprisoned at the same time. The treatment - which Barneveldt was subjected to in his captivity was most - inconsiderate and severe; indeed, the only mercy vouchsafed to him was - the attendance of his faithful body-servant; he was not allowed - communication with the outer world, although, on more than one - occasion, he contrived to elude the vigilance of his keepers by means - of a few words concealed in a quill or the centre of a fruit. His - books and papers were taken from him; he was denied the assistance of - a lawyer or a secretary to prepare his defence, or even pen and ink - for his own use; and when he asked for a list of the charges which - were to be brought against him, he was refused. - - In spite of all these hindrances, when summoned before a ‘packed’ - tribunal, his defence was noble, eloquent, and manly, although his - enemies insultingly called it a confession. He was accused of - troubling the Church of God, sowing dissension in the Provinces, and - calumniating his Excellency, and—crowning injustice—was declared a - traitor to his native country. John Olden de Barneveldt!—was there any - one in that Assembly whose love was so profound for his God, his - country, and his Prince? He was not present when the final sentence - was passed, namely, that he should suffer death by the sword, and that - all his goods should be confiscate; but when the news was brought, the - prisoner received it with the calm dignity which always characterised - him. - - From ‘my chamber of sorrow’ he wrote a touching farewell (pen and ink - being grudgingly accorded him) to his family, which he signed ‘from - your loving husband, father, grandfather, and father-in-law.’ In all - these relations of life Barneveldt had been dearly loved, and his home - had been the scene of ‘domestic bliss;’ the only paradise that has - survived the fall. - - He intrusted the clergyman who ministered to him with a message to the - Prince of Orange, assuring him that he had always loved and served him - as far as it was consistent with his duty to the State, and his - principles. He craved forgiveness if he had ever failed towards him in - any point, and concluded by earnestly recommending his children to the - care of his Excellency. - - Maurice received the messenger with tears in his eyes, on his part - declaring that he had always had a sincere affection for Barneveldt, - though there were one or two things he found it hard to forgive, such - as the accusation, which the Advocate brought against him, of aspiring - to the sovereignty; but he did forgive all, and as regarded the - children, he would befriend them as long as they continued to deserve - it. With these poor crumbs of comfort the clergyman went back to the - prison. - - It must not be supposed that no efforts were made to save De - Barneveldt: the French Ambassador used all his persuasions and all his - eloquence, the widowed Princess of Orange wrote to her stepson to - entreat him to save his father’s friend, and the friend of his boyhood - and early life; but for the first time Maurice was deaf to the appeal - of Louisa de Coligny, and excused himself from seeing her on frivolous - pretences. Some surprise was expressed that the wife and family of De - Barneveldt did not petition the Stadtholder, and it was even whispered - that if either the wife or daughter-in-law (both women distinguished - by noble birth and noble hearts) had sought an interview with Prince - Maurice, it might have been granted; but they relied on a promise, - perhaps, that no harm should come to the prisoner, even as our - Strafford did, a few years later. The venerable captive prepared for - death, declining an interview with his relations, lest the sight of - those dear ones should unnerve him, and destroy the composure which it - was so essential to maintain, while it was carefully withheld from him - how earnestly his family had desired to see him once more. - - The night previous to the execution his good servant took up his post - at the head of his master’s bed to receive his last instructions, but - was warned off by one of the sentinels. - - However, no sooner did the surly fellow fall asleep than this faithful - friend, by dint of bribes and persuasions, prevailed on his comrade to - let him return to the bedside. Barneveldt evinced great anxiety - respecting his beloved friend Grotius,[3] fearing he might share the - same fate. He sent tender messages to his family, recommending the - bearer to their protection, and expressed his regret, if, stung by - indignation at the loathsome slanders published against him, he had at - any time spoken too fiercely and vehemently. - -Footnote 3: - - Grotius was imprisoned for two years, and finally escaped in a case - of books, through the medium of his wife. - - The next morning he rose quietly. ‘Come and help me, good John,’ said - he; ‘it is the last time that I shall require your services.’ When the - clergyman entered and asked if he had slept, he said he had not, but - was much soothed and strengthened by the beautiful passages he had - been reading in a French version of the Psalms. Why linger over these - sad details? - - In the great hall where the judges were assembled, the prisoner - listened wearily to the long rambling sentence, and demurred several - times at its flagrant injustice. When the clerk had concluded, he - said, ‘I thought, my Lords, the States-General would have had enough - of my life, and blood, without depriving my wife and children of their - property. Is this my recompense for forty-three years of service to - the Provinces?’ - - The President rose with this cruel reply on his lips: ‘You have heard - the sentence—away, away! that is enough.’ - - The old man obeyed, leaning on his staff, and, followed by his - faithful John and the guard, he passed on to death on the scaffold, - and, looking down, addressed the mob: ‘Men,’ he said, ‘do not believe - that I am a traitor; I have lived as a patriot, and as a patriot I - will die.’ - - He himself drew the cap over his eyes, ejaculating, ‘Christ shall be - my guide; O Lord, my Heavenly Father, receive my spirit.’ Then - kneeling down, as he desired, with his face directed towards his home, - he begged the executioner to use all despatch; the heavy sword was - swung, the noble head was struck off at a blow, and the soul of John - Olden de Barneveldt took flight for a land where ingratitude and - injustice are alike unknown. - - We are told that the Stadtholder sat in his cabinet with closed doors, - and forbade any one wearing his livery to go abroad, or be seen in the - streets during the execution of the Advocate; nay, it is further - recorded that he evinced some emotion on hearing that all was over. - But sadly did he neglect an opportunity that presented itself, not - very long afterwards, of showing some spark of that generosity which - once characterised him. - - Barneveldt had left two sons, both high in position, and in affluent - circumstances, until their father’s sentence reduced them to poverty - and obscurity. The younger son, Governor of Bergen-op-Zoom, was a - wild, turbulent spirit, and had given his family much uneasiness. - Stung to the quick by his father’s wrongs, he laid a plot for the - assassination of the Stadtholder; with some difficulty he prevailed on - his more timid brother to enlist in the same cause, and as Maurice’s - popularity was already on the wane, he found several conspirators not - unwilling to join. The scheme was discovered or betrayed, and all - implicated therein, who had the means of escape, fled; the younger De - Barneveldt was conveyed in a case to the house of a friend at - Rotterdam, whence he started for Brussels, and reached the Court of - the Archduchess Isabella, who took him under her protection. He - afterwards entered his native country with alien troops as a traitor - and a renegade. His less fortunate, less blameable brother, wandered - about from place to place a miserable fugitive, and was at last taken - in the island of Flieland. - - On hearing of his capture, his mother’s anguish knew no bounds; she - remained for days tearless, speechless, immoveable; but at length she - roused herself, and, accompanied by her daughter-in-law and infant - grandchild, she went her way to the Stadtholder’s palace. - - Bowing the lofty spirit which had hitherto upheld her in all her - misfortunes, she cast herself on her knees, and with all the wild - eloquence of maternal sorrow, she implored mercy for her son. - - Maurice received her with cold courtesy, and asked why she had never - raised her voice in behalf of the prisoner’s father. The answer was - worthy the widow of the great patriot:— - - ‘My husband,’ she said, ‘was innocent; my son is guilty.’ - - The Prince was unmoved, and coldly replied that it was out of his - power to interfere with the course of justice. The two unhappy women - and the little one, who was so soon to be an orphan, passed out of the - room, and all hope of mercy was at an end. The only clemency shown the - son of Olden de Barneveldt was exemption from the ignominy and anguish - of torture which was inflicted on his fellow-conspirators. The - deportment of this weak-minded man at his trial formed a sad contrast - to that of his illustrious father. When sentence of death had been - passed, he had a last interview with his mother and wife. The latter, - amid all the agony of her grief, exhorted her husband to die as became - his father’s memory and the noble name he bore. These loving commands - were strictly obeyed. The prisoner was calm and composed on the - scaffold, and in a few words he addressed to the people, told them - that evil counsel and the desire for vengeance had brought him to so - sad an end. His last audible word was ‘Patience.’ - - The days of Maurice of Nassau were also numbered. For a short time the - flame of popularity flickered; but his reputation had suffered, not - only by his injustice, but by his severity to the widow and family of - a man to whose memory his very opponents in religion and politics were - now beginning to render tardy justice. On one occasion the Stadtholder - was deeply mortified, when, crossing the public square of a large - town, amid a concourse of citizens, he was allowed to do so without - the slightest sign of recognition, without the lifting of a single - hat, or the raising of one shout in his honour. No man said, ‘God - bless him;’—he who was wont to ride down the streets amid deafening - cries of ‘Long live Prince Maurice!’ - - He was thwarted and opposed in many of his favourite measures by the - very party he had so strenuously upheld. He was more especially - mortified when they refused the subsidies he asked for the - prolongation of the war with Spain, and, though successful in his - attempt on Bergen-op-Zoom, he failed before Antwerp, while the - reverses of the Protestant army in Germany weighed heavily on his - mind. He received the exiled King and Queen of Bohemia at the Hague - with generous hospitality, and sympathised truly in their misfortunes; - but the successes of his great rival, the Marquis Spinola, which he - was now powerless to withstand, seemed the culminating point to his - distress. His last days were embittered by the knowledge that his - beloved stronghold of Breda, on the recovery of which he had expended - so much ingenuity, and run such enormous risks, thirty-four years - before, was now hotly besieged by the great Italian general, and he - himself unable to lift a finger in its defence. Maurice of Nassau - became thin and haggard, and fits of sleeplessness reduced his - strength,—he who his life long had slept so heavily that two gentlemen - were stationed in his bedchamber to awake him in any case of - emergency. He died in the spring of the year 1625. - - Maurice, Prince of Orange, had announced his intention early in life - never to marry, a resolution to which he adhered; but he was a man of - pleasure, and not very refined in his tastes. He left several natural - children, of whom one, M. de Beverweert by name, was distinguished, - and held a high office under Government. Maurice’s chief pastime was - chess, at which (singular as it may appear) he was not very skilful. - His customary antagonist was a captain of the guard, one De la Caze, - greatly his superior in the game; but as the Prince hated defeat, and - would burst forth into fits of fury when worsted, his prudent - adversary was frequently induced to allow his Excellency to be - victorious in their trials of skill. On these propitious occasions the - Prince’s good-humour knew no bounds, conducting the officer to the - outer door, and bidding the attendants light, and even accompany him - home. The captain, whose income depended chiefly on his skill at games - of chance, was sorely put to it in the choice of winning and losing, - of times and of seasons. - - Maurice merited the name of ‘the Silent’ more than his father; and - when he did speak, says La Houssaye (whose Memoirs throw great light - on the history of the time), ‘Il se servoit toujours, de petites - fraizes gauderonnées.’ - - He was of a dry and caustic humour, and showed especial contempt for - what he considered coxcombry in dress. He used to rally the French - gentlemen in particular on the lightness of their apparel, observing - they would rather catch cold than conceal their figures. He - depreciated the use of tight riding-boots, which prevented the - horseman from vaulting into his saddle, and set an example of - simplicity, sometimes amounting to shabbiness, in his own attire. - - We have given elsewhere the description of his usual dress. La - Houssaye says, ‘Je l’ai toujours vu habillé de la même sorte, de la - même couleur, ce qui étoit brune, couleur de musc.’ He blamed the - Italian mode of horsemanship, with all their curvetings and - caracolings, which, he said, were dangerous, and lost no end of time. - Maurice left behind him a glorious reputation, but a heavy blot rests - on his escutcheon. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - SIR ANTONIO MORO. - - _Black suit and ruff. Black cap._ - - BORN 1512, DIED 1588. - - BY HIMSELF. - - - HE was a native of Utrecht, and a disciple of John Schoorel, who was - distinguished not only as a painter, being a pupil of Mabuse, but as a - poet and orator. Moro travelled in Italy, and studied the great - masters. He painted historical and sacred subjects, but excelled in - portraits, and followed the style of Holbein. Cardinal Granvelle - recommended him to Charles V., for whom he painted Prince Philip, - afterwards Philip II. of Spain. The Emperor gave Moro a commission to - the Court of Portugal, to execute the portraits of King John III., his - wife, Catherine of Austria, and the Infanta Mary, afterwards Queen of - Spain. Sir William Stirling, in his delightful work on Spanish - painters, says, ‘Moro’s pencil made that marrying monarch, Philip II., - acquainted with the forms and features of his two first wives, the - Maries of Portugal and England.’ For the three Portuguese pictures the - painter received six hundred ducats, besides a costly gold chain, - presented to him by the nobles of the country, and other gifts. But - when he went to England to take sittings of Queen Mary (the betrothed - of Philip of Spain), Antonio was remunerated still more magnificently. - He received one hundred pounds (then esteemed a large sum) for the - Queen’s likeness, and a splendid chain of gold, with a pension of one - hundred pounds a quarter on his appointment as painter to the Court. - He remained in England during the whole of Mary’s reign, and both the - Queen and her husband sat to him several times. He also painted - numbers of the courtiers and nobility, but, from omitting to annex the - names, the identity of many of his characteristic portraits is lost. - Horace Walpole regrets this neglect in his notice of Moro, and says - truly, ‘The poorest performer may add merit to his works by - identifying the subjects, and this would be a reparation to the - curious world, though it would rob many families of imaginary - ancestors.’ - - When Queen Mary died, Moro, or More, as he was called in England, - followed King Philip to Spain, where he remained for some time in high - favour. He left the country suddenly, and the cause of his departure - has been differently accounted for by different writers. The version - of the story most currently believed is as follows:—King Philip - frequented the artist’s studio, and one day, as he was standing beside - the easel, his Majesty familiarly placed his hand on Moro’s shoulder. - The painter turned round abruptly, and smeared the Royal hand with - carmine. The attendants stood aghast at this breach of etiquette; but - the King appeared to treat the matter as a jest. It was not long, - however, before Moro received a warning from his patron that the - officers of the Inquisition were on his track, and that he was in - imminent danger of arrest on the plea of having ‘bewitched the King.’ - - One thing was certain, that the fact of an alien standing so high in - Philip’s favour had aroused a feeling of ill-will and jealousy among - the courtiers, who would probably lay hold of any pretext to effect - the favourite’s ruin. Moro fled to Brussels, where he was warmly - welcomed by the Duke of Alva, then Governor of the Low Countries; here - he painted the portrait of the brave but cruel commander, and of one - or two of his mistresses. It was rumoured that Philip invited him to - return to Spain, and that Alva intercepted the letters, being - unwilling to part with the great artist. Be this as it may, Moro never - again put himself in the power of the Inquisition, but passed the - remainder of his days in ease, and even opulence. He had amassed a - good fortune by his works in all parts of Europe, and the Duke of Alva - made him receiver of the revenues of West Flanders, an appointment - which is said to have so elated Moro that he burned his easel and - destroyed his painting tools; but we are not bound to believe a story - so unlikely. - - He died at Antwerp, while engaged in painting the Circumcision for the - Cathedral of that city. Sir Antonio was remarkable for the refinement - of his manners and the dignity of his bearing. He painted several - portraits of himself, one of which represents him as a tall stately - man, with a frank open countenance, red hair and beard, dressed in a - dark doublet, with slashed sleeves, a massive chain round his throat, - and a brindled wolf-hound by his side. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - SMALL DINING-ROOM. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - SMALL DINING-ROOM. - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM LAMB, SECOND SON OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT - MELBOURNE, TO WHOM HE SUCCEEDED. - - _Nude child playing with a wolf._ - - BY MRS. COSWAY. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - GEORGE AUGUSTUS FREDERICK, SIXTH EARL COWPER. - - _Black coat. White waistcoat. Loose cloak._ - - BORN 1806, DIED 1856. - - BY LUCAS. - - - THE eldest son of the fifth Earl, by Emily, only daughter of the first - Viscount Melbourne. He went from a preparatory school at Mitcham to - Eton, and thence to Trinity College, Cambridge. On leaving the - University, he entered the Royal Horse Guards, Blue, and became M.P. - for Canterbury. In Lord Palmerston’s first Administration Lord - Fordwich was appointed Under-Secretary of State for Foreign - Affairs,—an office the arduous duties and grave responsibility of - which proved too much for his health, which was never very strong, and - he accordingly sent in his resignation at the end of a few months. In - 1833 he married Lady Anne Florence, Baroness Lucas, eldest daughter of - Earl de Grey, and two years after he retired from public life - altogether. He succeeded his father in 1837. Lord Cowper was a staunch - Whig, and always supported his party in the House, otherwise he took - no leading part in politics; he was extremely popular, in spite of a - certain diffidence which never wore off in his contact with public and - official life, or general society. Perhaps it might be said (in the - case of a man of his great wealth and exalted position) to have - enhanced the charm of his refined and engaging manners and - proverbially musical voice. He enjoyed society, of which he was a - cheerful and agreeable member, and few houses were more celebrated for - their delightful reunions than Panshanger, near Hertford. - - The circumstances attending Lord Cowper’s death were most unexpected - and painful. He was Lord-Lieutenant of the county of Kent, a post that - was in some measure irksome to him, as it entailed frequent residence - in a neighbourhood where he had few acquaintances,—with the exception - of Lord Sydney, one of his most valued and intimate friends. These two - noblemen had arranged to go down together to Maidstone at the time of - the Sessions, on the occasion of the reorganisation of the militia. - But at the eleventh hour Lord Sydney was prevented accompanying his - friend, as his presence was required in London in his capacity of Lord - Chamberlain. - - The Lord-Lieutenant therefore went down alone, and while transacting - business in court he was taken suddenly ill, removed to the governor’s - residence in the gaol, and died the same evening, apparently unaware - of his danger. - - Lady Cowper had some friends dining with her in St. James’s Square, - when she was summoned in all haste to Maidstone. She started - immediately, accompanied by her brother-in-law, William Cowper (the - present Lord Mount Temple), and the family physician, Dr. Ferguson. - But, alas! they arrived too late, for all was over. - - The death of a man so much esteemed in public, so tenderly beloved in - private life, caused a profound sensation; and, says the friend to - whom we are indebted for these particulars, ‘few men have ever been - more widely and deeply lamented.’ Lord Cowper left two sons and three - daughters:— - - The present Earl; the Honourable Henry Cowper, M.P. for Hertford; - Lady Florence, married to the Honourable Auberon Herbert, - brother of the Earl of Carnarvon; Adine, married to the - Honourable Julian Fane, fifth son of the eleventh Earl of - Westmoreland, both deceased; and Amabel, married to Lord - Walter Kerr, second son of the seventh Marquis of Lothian. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 3._ - - THE HONOURABLE GEORGE LAMB, FOURTH SON OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT - MELBOURNE. - - _As the infant Bacchus. A nude child._ - - BORN 1784. DIED 1834. - - BY MRS. COSWAY. - - - HE was the fourth and youngest son of the first Viscount Melbourne, by - Elizabeth Milbanke. Educated at Eton and Cambridge. Called to the bar, - and went the Northern Circuit for a short time; but the law was not to - his taste: he preferred the pursuit of literature, and took great - interest in the drama. He became an active member of the Committee of - Management of Drury Lane Theatre, with Lords Essex and Byron, and the - Honourable Douglas Kinnaird, for colleagues. He was the author of some - operatic pieces and fugitive poems, and he also published a - translation of Catullus. In the year 1819 George Lamb stood for - Westminster, on the Whig interest, against the Radicals; the contest - lasted fifteen days, and Lady Melbourne, a keen politician, exerted - herself in the canvass, and was much pleased at her son’s return by a - large majority. At the general election in 1820 he had to relinquish - his seat, but in 1826 he was returned for Dungarvan (through the - interest of the Duke of Devonshire), which borough he represented in - four Parliaments. In Lord Grey’s Administration Mr. Lamb was appointed - Under-Secretary of State for the Home Department. In 1809 he married - Mademoiselle Caroline Rosalie Adelaide de St. Jules, who was reputed - to be a natural daughter of the Duke of Devonshire. George Lamb died - at Whitehall in 1834; his two elder brothers, Lords Melbourne and - Beauvale, survived him. He left no children. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - ANNE FLORENCE DE GREY, BARONESS LUCAS IN HER OWN RIGHT, WIFE OF - GEORGE, SIXTH EARL COWPER. - - _In widow’s weeds._ - - BORN 1806, DIED 1880. - - BY FREDERICK LEIGHTON, R.A., _afterwards_ P.R.A. - - - SHE was the eldest daughter and co-heir of Thomas Philip, Earl de - Grey, K.G., by Lady Henriette Cole, daughter of the first Earl of - Enniskillen. She married in 1833 George Augustus, sixth Earl Cowper, - and was left a widow, in 1856, by the sudden and unexpected death of - her husband. We cannot do better than transcribe the moral portraiture - of the late Lady Cowper, sketched by the hand of one who knew her - well, appreciated her highly, and who, moreover, bore a strong - resemblance to her in many moral and intellectual gifts:— - - ‘I think I can sum up Lady Cowper’s leading attributes in three - words—wit, wisdom, and goodness. In the relationship of daughter, - wife, and mother she left nothing to be desired; as a hostess she was - pre-eminently agreeable, being a most delightful companion; she had - lived with all that was politically and socially distinguished in her - day, and had read all that was worth reading in modern literature. She - derived keen enjoyment from “the give and take” of discussion; her - opinions were decided, and their expression fresh and spontaneous: - into whatever well it was lowered, the bucket invariably came up - full!’ - - ‘In her latter days, even under the pressure of failing health, her - conversational powers never flagged; she was most brilliant in the - freshness of morning, and shone conspicuously at the breakfast-table, - thereby rendering that repast far more animated than is usually the - case. Her sallies, though never ill-natured, were often unexpected and - startling, which added a zest to her discourse, and gained for her the - title of ‘The Queen of Paradox.’ - - Her loss was deeply felt and mourned, not only in her own family, but - in the wider range of what is termed social life. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 5._ - - FAMILY GROUP. - - GEORGE, _third Earl Cowper; in a green coat, pink waistcoat, and - breeches_. MR. GORE, _playing on the violoncello; dark blue coat, - yellow breeches_. COUNTESS COWPER, _pale pink gown_. MRS. GORE, - _grey gown; one daughter in blue, the other in white brocade_. - MISS EMILY GORE _at the harpsichord_. - - BY ZOFFANY. - - - COUNTESS COWPER was the daughter of Charles Gore, Esquire, of - Southampton. Her parents took her to Italy for her health, where the - family resided for a long time. Mr. Gore is supposed to have been the - original of Goethe’s ‘travelled Englishman’ in _Wilhelm Meister_. Mrs. - Delany, in one of her amusing letters, mentions the meeting of Lord - Cowper and Miss Gore at Florence, ‘when little Cupid straightway bent - his bow.’ - - They were married at Florence, and on that occasion Horace Walpole - condoles with Sir Horace Mann on the prospect, as he would lose so - much of the society of his great friend, Lord Cowper. Both Lady Cowper - and her husband were in high favour at the Grand-Ducal Court of - Tuscany, and the former was a great ornament of the brilliant (but by - no means straight-laced) society of the day. Miss Berry speaks in very - high terms of Miss Gore, who resided with her married sister. Three - sons were born to the Cowpers in Florence. In her later days the - Countess took up her abode at a villa a little way out of the city. - She survived her husband many years, and was said to have been - plundered by her servants. Indeed, this most interesting picture is - supposed to have been stolen at the time of her death. It was - purchased in 1845 by the Honourable Spencer Cowper (for the trifling - sum of £20), who made it a present to his brother, the sixth Earl. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - KATRINE CECILIA COMPTON, WIFE OF THE PRESENT EARL COWPER. - - _Dark red velvet gown._ - - BY EDWARD CLOFFORD. - - - The eldest daughter of William, present and fourth Marquis of - Northampton. Married in 1870 to the present and seventh Earl Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM LAMB, AFTERWARDS SECOND VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _As a youth. Black coat trimmed with fur._ - - BORN 1779, DIED 1848. - - BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. - - - WILLIAM, second Lord Melbourne, was born March 15, 1779. His father - and mother were friends of the Prince of Wales, and lived in that - brilliant Whig circle of which Fox and Sheridan were the political - ornaments, and the Duchess of Devonshire the Queen of Beauty. It is - difficult now to realise the spirit of that society, in which - dissipation and intellectual refinement were so singularly combined. - Drunkenness among the men was too frequent to be considered - disgraceful, and even those who passed for being sober took their two - or three bottles a day. Conversation was habitually interlarded with - oaths; gambling, to such an extent as to cripple the largest fortunes, - was the common amusement of both sexes; and morality in other respects - was in a low state. But joined with this there was that high sense of - personal honour, which in England, and still oftener in France, has, - at other times, been united with similar manners. There was more than - this. There was a spirit of justice and generosity—even of - tenderness—and in some cases a delicacy of feeling which we are - accustomed now to associate only with temperance and purity. There was - also a very cultivated taste, derived from a far more extensive - knowledge of the Classics than is to be found in these days; a love of - poetry and history; and, above all, an enthusiastic worship of - liberty. - - How came this strange worship of liberty among this exclusive and - luxurious aristocracy? Originally, perhaps, as the result of faction. - Excluded from power and deprived of popularity by misfortunes and - mistakes, which it would take too long to mention, the Whigs had been - driven in their adversity to fall back upon their original principles. - The debating instinct of their great Parliamentary leader seized upon - the cry of liberty as a weapon of warfare in the House of Commons, and - the cause which he advocated was so congenial to his frank and - generous nature that he embraced it enthusiastically and imparted his - enthusiasm to his friends. I must not pursue these thoughts further, - but the circumstances of a man’s early life have such influence in - moulding his character that, even in such a slight sketch as this, it - may not have been out of place to call attention to the state of that - society, with its vices and its redeeming qualities, in the midst of - which William Lamb grew up. - - He went to Eton in 1790, and to Cambridge in 1796. In 1797 he was - entered at Lincoln’s Inn, but without leaving Cambridge. In 1798 he - won a prize by the oration on ‘The Progressive Improvement of - Mankind,’ which was alluded to by Fox in the House of Commons. - - In 1799 he went to Glasgow to Professor Millar’s, from whose house he - wrote during this and the following year several letters to his - mother, which still exist. They show the keenest interest in politics, - and an enthusiastic admiration for the French; and they are not - entirely free from a slight taint of that apparent want of patriotism - which infected the Liberal party at that time, and which did it such - irreparable damage. It is only fair to say that there is an entry - written in a notebook a few years later showing how keenly he - appreciated and lamented this political error, and throughout the - whole course of the Peninsular War he expresses the warmest wishes for - the success of the British arms, and for those of our allies in - Germany. - - His career at the bar was brief and uneventful, and by the death of - his elder brother he shortly became heir-apparent to his father’s - title and property. - - We now come to a most important event—important to all men—in his case - particularly so, and attended with almost unmitigated evil. - - On June 3, 1805, was solemnised the marriage of William Lamb and Lady - Caroline Ponsonby. It is heartless, unnecessary, and altogether wrong - to expose the dreariness, the pain, and the ridicule of an - ill-assorted marriage. Too many particulars of this unhappy union have - already found their way into print. Lady Caroline was a woman of - ability, and, I suppose, a certain amount of charm; but nobody who - reads her works, or her letters, or the accounts of her conduct, can - doubt that she was partially insane. Of her husband it is enough to - say that whatever his faults may have been of over-indulgence at - certain times—and perhaps an occasional outbreak of passionate temper - at others—he was, on the whole, singularly tender, kind, and - considerate. He was always honourable and gentlemanlike, and he bore - his burden with a brave and manly spirit. But for twenty years his - life was embittered, his ability depressed, and even his credit with - the world temporarily impaired. - - I have said that the evil which attended his marriage was almost - unmitigated; but there was one compensation. He was driven into - seclusion. Whole days were passed in his library, and it was during - these years that he acquired habits of reading which were never - afterwards abandoned, and that he accumulated much of that vast store - of learning—that large knowledge of all subjects, ancient and modern, - sacred and profane—which formed a continual subject of astonishment to - those who knew him in later life. - - After endless quarrels and reconciliations, they were regularly - separated in 1825; but he occasionally visited her, and was with her - at her deathbed two years later, when they were finally reconciled, to - quarrel no more. - - Though he was member of the House of Commons for many years, and - occasionally spoke, he cannot be said to have acquired any distinction - in that assembly; but his abilities had always been recognised by - leading men, as is shown by the fact that he twice refused office - during that period. - - His public career began in 1827, when he accepted, in Canning’s - Administration, the post of Chief Secretary in Ireland. - - It is difficult to form a just opinion of him as he appeared to his - contemporaries at this time. Mr. M’Culloch Torrens has done justice to - his high character, his clear intellect, and his broad, sound, and - sensible views of men and things. Lord Melbourne’s relations must - always feel grateful to Mr. Torrens for so clearly bringing forward - this side of his nature, and perhaps also for not attempting to - delineate those characteristics which require to be touched with a - more delicate hand. The uncontrolled flow of humour, of originality - and mischief, might easily have been perverted in the description into - buffoonery or jauntiness, from which no man was ever more free. The - paradoxes might have appeared as an ambitious effort to astonish and - to draw attention, when considered separately from the simple and - spontaneous manner in which they were uttered. They were saved from - this, as all good paradoxes are, not only by the manner, but by each - one of them containing some portion of the truth, which is generally - overlooked, and which was then, for the first time, presented to the - mind in a striking and unexpected way. - - But though any attempt to describe the charm of Lord Melbourne’s - society would probably lead to disastrous failure, and must not, - therefore, be attempted, it is important to bear in mind that this - extraordinary charm was the one great feature that remained impressed - upon the minds of all who had communication with him. - - Sparkling originality, keen insight into character, a rich store of - information on every subject always at hand to strengthen and - illustrate conversation, exuberant vitality, and, above all, the most - transparent simplicity of nature, these, from what I have heard, must - have been his principal characteristics. I am bound to add that he - often shocked fastidious people. He seldom spoke without swearing, and - he was often very coarse in his remarks. There was, indeed, in his - language and in his whole character, not only a wayward recklessness - which was natural to him, but a touch of cynical bitterness that - contrasted strangely with the nobleness and generosity of the original - man. The nobleness and generosity were, I say, original. The scenes - which surrounded him in his early years, and still more, that unhappy - married life to which I have already alluded, may account for the - remainder. - - I must add that this charm of manner and conversation was set forth to - the utmost advantage by a beautiful voice and a prepossessing personal - appearance. He was tall, strong, and of vigorous constitution, - brilliantly handsome, even in old age, with a play of countenance to - which no picture, and certainly not this very indifferent one by - Hayter, does the smallest justice. - - It may easily be believed that with such a people as the Irish a man - like this immediately became extremely popular; and the solid - abilities of a genuine statesman were speedily recognised by his - colleagues. - - Even at this period, with Lord Wellesley as Viceroy, the principal - business in Ireland was transacted by the Chief Secretary, though this - Minister was not then, as he has frequently been since, in the - Cabinet. Lord Wellesley, accustomed to a far different position in - India, was occasionally somewhat sore at the false relation in which - he stood to his nominal subordinate, though this was made as endurable - as possible by the tact and fine feeling of William Lamb, who was - constantly reminding the Ministers in England of the consideration due - to a veteran statesman, whom fate had placed in so disagreeable an - office, and offering to send back despatches to be rewritten. - - The short Administrations of Canning and Goderich were uneventful in - Ireland, and early in that of the Duke of Wellington, Lamb resigned. - He came away with an increased reputation. His extreme facility of - access, and his delight in talking openly with people of all parties, - had made him much liked—and even his very indiscretions seem to have - told in his favour. - - On July 22, 1828, he became Lord Melbourne by the death of his father. - - In Lord Grey’s Administration of 1830 he was made Home Secretary. His - appointment to so important an office without any public reputation as - a man of business, and without any Parliamentary distinction, show - conclusively what a high opinion had been formed of his abilities by - those in authority. But by the world at large he seems to have been - still looked upon as an indolent man, and to have caused some surprise - by the vigour and ability which he displayed in dealing with the very - serious disturbances which at this time broke out in many parts of the - country. This unexpected vigour, joined with the calmness and good - sense which he was already known to possess, made his reign at the - Home Office very successful; and he had an opportunity of particularly - distinguishing himself by his firmness and discretion in dealing with - a monster deputation from the Trade Unions shortly before he was - called to fill a still higher position. - - In 1834, on the resignation of Lord Grey, he was sent for by the King. - He formed a Government from his existing colleagues, and from that - period, with the exception of a short interval, he remained Prime - Minister of England for seven years. - - The political history of these seven years has been written over and - over again. It was a history to which the Liberal party cannot look - back with much satisfaction, and the memory of the Prime Minister - suffers unjustly in consequence. It was one of those strange periods - of reaction which are so familiar to the student of English political - life, when the country was becoming daily more Conservative in its - views and feelings. Then, as at other similar periods, the Liberals - were obstinately unwilling to believe the fact. While the bulk of the - electors were ever more and more anxious for repose, ardent - politicians were racking their brains for new stimulants, and seeking - what reforms they could propose, and what institutions they could - attack, in order to rouse the flagging energies of their supporters. - They mistook a real wish to be left quiet for a disgust at not being - led forward, and as the activity of Lord Melbourne in his Cabinet was - chiefly displayed in restraining the restlessness of the more - impetuous of his colleagues, he became responsible, in the eyes of - some, for the want of progress; while the nation at large accused him, - in common with the rest of his Government, of continually taking up, - without serious consideration or depth of conviction, any policy which - might be likely to bring a momentary popularity to the Ministry. - - In regard to this last accusation, we must remember that Lord - Melbourne was only one of the governing committee of the - country—_primus inter pares_. It is a very strong and very popular - Prime Minister alone who can be more than this. His influence, as I - have said, is believed to have been a restraining one. We know the - mistakes to which he was a party, but we shall never know how many he - may have prevented. - - After all said against it, this period of seven years was neither - unfruitful in wise legislation nor inglorious to the country. Without - endangering peace, we maintained the high position of England in - Europe; and though many measures were prematurely introduced, and - hastily abandoned, a long list may be made of very useful ones which - were passed. - - What were Lord Melbourne’s real political convictions? Some have said - that he was in his heart a Conservative. He was undoubtedly less - advanced in his opinions than many of his colleagues, and he sometimes - exhibited a half-laughing, half-sorrowful disbelief in the result - expected by others from constitutional changes. This, coupled with a - love of mischief and a delight in startling people, made him appear - less advanced than he was—as when he said about Catholic Emancipation, - that all the wise men in the country had been on one side of the - question, and all the fools on the other, and that the fools had - turned out to be right after all; when he told some ardent reformers - that the men who originated the Reform Bill ought to be hung on a - gallows forty feet high; and when he remarked to Lord John Russell - that he did not see that there was much use in education. These - remarks, however, did not express his real convictions. His was - essentially that kind of mind which sees clearly both sides of a - question. His position would naturally have been very near the - border-line which divides the two parties, and on which it is - impossible for any public man in England permanently to stand, but it - would have been, under any circumstances, on the Liberal side of that - line. - - As leader of the House of Lords he was, on the whole, - successful—certainly not the reverse. But he had the misfortune to be - opposed and most bitterly attacked, during a great part of his - Administration, by the two greatest orators of the day, and he - received little support from his own side. Of his speaking it has been - said that if it had been a little better, it would have been quite - first-rate. He never prepared a speech, and he hesitated a good deal, - except when under the influence of excitement. But at his worst he was - always plain, unpretending, and sensible; and his voice and appearance - were of themselves sufficient to command attention. When roused he - could be forcible, and even eloquent for a few minutes, and he always - gave the impression that he only wanted rousing to become so. The most - powerful of his opponents never could feel sure that he might not at - any moment receive a sudden knock-down blow, and both Brougham and - Lyndhurst more than once experienced this. - - On the accession of the Queen in 1837, Lord Melbourne found himself - suddenly placed in a most trying and most responsible position. This - is the part of his career which is best known, and in which his - conduct has been most appreciated; and I do not think there is any - other instance on record of the confidential and affectionate - relations subsisting between a Sovereign and a Minister so interesting - to dwell upon. It is difficult to say to which of the two these - relations were productive of the greatest benefit. Her Majesty was - indeed fortunate in finding such a counsellor; his large-minded - fairness, his impartial appreciation of the motives and feelings of - all parties in the State—that philosophical power of seeing both sides - of a question, to which I have alluded, and which perhaps stood in his - way as a party leader,—were, under present circumstances, of unmixed - advantage. His vast political and historical knowledge supplied him - with ready information on every subject, which I need hardly say he - imparted in the most agreeable manner; and his judgment, stimulated by - the gravity of the situation, enabled him to give sound advice, at - least on all the deeper and more important matters which properly - belonged to his position. To the Minister himself this new stimulant - was invaluable. His life had never quite recovered from the blight - cast upon it in his early manhood. He had long suffered from want of - an object for which he really cared; his thoughtful temperament too - much inclined him in his serious moments to realise the vanity of all - things; but he now found a new interest which animated his remaining - years of activity, and which afterwards solaced him in illness, in - depression, and intellectual decay. - - Nobly did the Queen repay this chivalrous devotion and this unselfish - solicitude for her welfare. Her clear intellect readily assimilated - his wisdom, and her truthful and just nature responded sympathetically - to his enlightened and generous views. And there was no ingratitude or - subsequent neglect to mar the harmony of the picture, for to the last - hour of his existence her kindness and attention were without a break. - Her Majesty has been fortunate in many of her advisers—fortunate more - particularly in her illustrious husband,—but such is the force of - early impression, that, perhaps, no small part of the sagacity and the - virtue which have signalised her reign may be traced to the influence - of Lord Melbourne. - - This little biographical notice must now be concluded. In 1841 his - Administration came to an end. In the autumn of 1842 he had a - paralytic stroke. He recovered, and lived till 1848, and was able to - take his place in the House of Lords, and to appear in society. But - his sweet temper was soured, and his spirits became unequal; his - bright intellect was dimmed, and his peculiarities assumed an - exaggerated form. He had been so famous in earlier days for the - brilliancy of his conversation, that even after his illness people - remembered and repeated what he said. This has done his reputation - some injury, and the stories told about him do not always convey a - correct impression of his ability or his charm. - - The life which I have attempted to sketch was an eventful one, and - Lord Melbourne took no small share in the movements of his time. But - it seems to have been the impression of all who met him, that he might - have done much more than he ever did, and that he was a far abler and - greater man than many who have filled a larger space in history. - - C. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - ELIZABETH MILBANKE, WIFE OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _Pale violet gown._ - - BY ROMNEY. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - THE HONOURABLE PENISTON LAMB, ELDEST SON OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT - MELBOURNE. - - _Tawny coat. White cravat. Powder._ - - BORN 1770, DIED 1805. - - BY ROMNEY. - - - HE was the eldest child of the first Lord Melbourne, and his birth was - a source of great joy to both his parents. But from his earliest years - Peniston was the idol of his father, whom he resembled in many points, - both moral and physical; indeed, it was said no flattery was sweeter - to Lord Melbourne’s ear than to be assured of this resemblance. The - mother was very fond of her first-born; but as he grew on in years, - and his tastes developed, Lady Melbourne was mortified to find that - Peniston evinced no predilection for politics or public life; and, - finding in her second son William’s tastes more congenial with her - own, it was plain to see that William was the mother’s darling. - Peniston showed no jealousy; he was gentle-hearted and engaging; every - tenant on the estate, every servant in the house, every dog and horse - in the stable, loved him. He was a capital shot, and rode well to - hounds, while quite a little fellow; and Lord Melbourne was never - tired of telling how ‘Pen’ had led the field, or put his pony at the - stiffest bullfinch. His brothers were among his most devoted - worshippers; and in their happy romping days at Brocket, Peniston was - never tired of joining in their frolics, though with a certain dignity - becoming a senior. How exquisitely is this characteristic demeanour - portrayed in the beautiful picture of the three boys by Sir Joshua - Reynolds, which he named ‘The Affectionate Brothers,’ described in a - late page. - - In 1793 Lord Melbourne vacated his seat in Parliament, and Peniston - represented Newport, and afterwards Hertfordshire county, in the - House. He had never been very strong, and being suddenly attacked by - an illness, for which the physicians could in no way account, he - expired, to the despair of his father, the grief of his whole family, - and the deep regret of the county. Reynolds, Romney, Mrs. Cosway, and - Stubbs, were all called on to perpetuate the handsome form and - features of this darling of the household. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 10._ - - THE HONOURABLE HARRIET AND EMILY LAMB, CHILDREN OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT - MELBOURNE. - - _White frocks. Pink sashes. Harriet has a cap on her head._ - - BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. - - - HARRIET died young. Emily was successively the wife of Lord Cowper and - Lord Palmerston. In later days she remembered perfectly romping on the - floor with her little sister, who had just snatched her cap off her - head, when the door opened, and their mother came in accompanied by a - gentleman in black, who was very kind, and said, ‘Nothing can be - better than that;’ and he painted the little girls just as he had - found them. Lawrence, then a very young man, was on a visit at - Brocket. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - ELIZABETH, WIFE OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _In a small carriage, drawn by grey ponies. She wears a white cloak - and hat. Her father_, SIR RALPH MILBANKE, _in the centre; grey - coat, blue and yellow waistcoat. Her brother_, JOHN MILBANKE; - _grey horse; pale blue coat, buff waistcoat, breeches, and - top-boots_. LORD MELBOURNE _on a brown horse; dark blue coat, - yellow breeches. All the gentlemen wear tri-corne hats._ - - BY STUBBS. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 12._ - - ELIZABETH, WIFE OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _White muslin dress. Blue bow._ - - BY HOPPNER. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 13._ - - PETER LEOPOLD FRANCIS, FIFTH EARL COWPER. - - _Peer’s Parliamentary robes._ - - BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 14._ - - THE HONOURABLE EMILY LAMB, AFTERWARDS COUNTESS COWPER, AND VISCOUNTESS - PALMERSTON. - - _White dress. Coral necklace._ - - AGED SIXTEEN. - - BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 15._ - - THE HONOURABLE PENISTON LAMB, ELDEST SON OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT - MELBOURNE. - - _With his horse Assassin, and his dog Tanner. Dismounted. Dark coat, - leathers, and top-boots. Brown horse, stretching towards a small - black-and-tan - dog._ - - BY STUBBS. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 16._ - - GEORGE AUGUSTUS NASSAU, THIRD EARL COWPER. - - _Dark blue coat. Scarlet waistcoat and breeches. Shoes with buckles._ - - BY RAPHAEL MENGS. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 17._ - - HENRY COWPER, ESQUIRE, OF TEWIN WATER. - - _Black coat. White cravat._ - - DIED 1825 (?). - - BY JACKSON. - - - GRANDSON to Spencer Cowper (the celebrated Judge), and Deputy-Clerk of - the Parliaments for many years. There is an entry in Mary Countess - Cowper’s diary (wife of the Chancellor) in December 1714: ‘Monsieur - Robethon received the grant of the King of Clerk of the Parliament - after Mr. Johnson’s death for anybody he would name. He let our - brother Spencer Cowper have it in reversion after Mr. Johnson’s death - for his two sons for £1800.’ It was held in succession by the family - for several years. The reader of the poet Cowper’s life will remember - the tragical incident connected with this particular appointment. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 18._ - - THOMAS PHILIP, BARON GRANTHAM, BARON LUCAS, EARL DE GREY, K.G. - - _Brown coat trimmed with fur. White waistcoat. Black cloak._ - - BORN 1786, DIED 1859. - - AFTER ROBINSON. - - - HE was the eldest son of Thomas Robinson, second Lord Grantham (of - that name), by Lady Mary Yorke, second daughter of the second Earl of - Hardwicke. Succeeded to the barony of Grantham on the death of his - father, and to the earldom of De Grey on the death of his maternal - aunt (who was Countess De Grey in her own right), and at the same time - he assumed the surname of De Grey, in lieu of that of Robinson. In - 1805 he married the beautiful Lady Henrietta Cole, fifth daughter of - the first Earl of Enniskillen. He was appointed First Lord of the - Admiralty, and Privy Councillor during Sir Robert Peel’s - Administration of 1834 and 1835, and on the return of Peel to power in - 1841 Lord De Grey went to Ireland as Viceroy. Here he made himself - remarkable by his extreme hospitality and the splendour of his - establishment, while he discharged the more essential and difficult - duties of his office with zeal and ability. His departure in 1844 - (when he resigned on account of his health) was much regretted, while - Lady De Grey left a name which was long remembered in Dublin, not only - for the charm of her manners and the beauty of her person, but for the - encouragement which she afforded to native talent and manufactures. On - leaving Ireland Lord De Grey retired from official life, and contented - himself with voting in Parliament as a Liberal Conservative. He became - Lord-Lieutenant of Bedfordshire, Knight of the Garter, and - aide-de-camp to the Queen. He was a member of many scientific and - industrial institutions, Fellow of the Royal Society, and of the - Society of Antiquarians, etc. He had several children, of whom only - two daughters survived,—Anne Florence, who married the sixth Earl - Cowper, and Mary, married to Captain Henry Vyner. Lord De Grey died in - 1859, when the barony of Lucas devolved on his eldest daughter, and - his other titles on his nephew, now Marquis of Ripon. He was a man of - undoubted talent, and occupied himself in carrying out designs as an - architect, decorator, and landscape gardener. When he inherited the - houses of Wrest, in Bedfordshire, and the fine mansion in St. James’s - Square, on the death of his aunt, the Countess De Grey, he pulled down - the former, and rebuilt it, according to his own designs, in the style - of a French château. The pictures which adorn the walls were painted - expressly for him; the tapestry, which lends so rich a colouring to - the interior of Wrest, was woven under Lord De Grey’s immediate - direction in the ateliers of the Gobelins; while the rich gilding, - cornices, and ceilings were all executed under his supervision, and do - the greatest credit to his taste and ingenuity. He also supplemented - the plans, and enlarged the ornamentation of the already beautiful - gardens and pleasure-grounds which surround the house. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 19._ - - THE HONOURABLE PENISTON LAMB, ELDEST SON OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT - MELBOURNE. - - _Red coat. Grey hat and feathers lying on the table. Caressing a dog._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 20._ - - THE HONOURABLE FREDERICK LAMB, AFTERWARDS FIRST LORD BEAUVALE AND - THIRD VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _Blue coat. White jabot._ - - BORN 1782, DIED 1853. - - BY CHANDLER. - - - HE was the third son of the first Viscount Melbourne, by Elizabeth, - daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke. He entered the diplomatic service at - an early age, was successively attached to the British Legation at - Palermo, and the Embassy at Vienna, where in the year 1813 he became - Minister Plenipotentiary, _ad interim_, until the arrival of Lord - Stewart, afterwards Marquis of Londonderry. From September 1815 he was - Envoy to Munich until 1820, and two years later he was appointed Privy - Councillor, and subsequently G.C.B. (civil), in consideration of his - diplomatic services. He was successively Minister to Madrid and - Ambassador at Vienna, and retired on a pension in 1841, having - previously been elevated to the Peerage by the title of Baron - Beauvale. On the death of his brother William in 1848 (some time First - Lord of the Treasury), the Viscountcy of Melbourne devolved on him. - Lord Beauvale married at Vienna in 1841 the daughter of Count - Maltzahn, the Prussian Minister at the Austrian Court. He had no - children, and his large property was inherited by his only sister, - Viscountess Palmerston. He died at his country house, Brocket Hall, in - Hertfordshire, in 1853. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - LADY COWPER’S SITTING-ROOM - - AND - - LORD COWPER’S STUDY. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LADY COWPER’S SITTING-ROOM. - - ------- - - - Francis Thomas de Grey Cowper, Earl Cowper, Viscount Fordwich, County - Kent, Baron Cowper of Wingham, Kent, in the Peerage of Great - Britain; Baron Butler of Moore Park, Herts, and Baron Lucas of - Crudwell, Wilts, in the Peerage of England; Baron of Dingwall, - County Ross, Peerage of Scotland; Privy Councillor, Knight of the - Garter, and Prince and Count of the Holy Roman Expire; - Lord-Lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum of Bedfordshire; Colonel of - the First Herts Rifle Volunteers, etc. - - - BORN 1834, SUCCEEDED TO THE EARLDOM IN 1856, AND TO THE BARONY OF - LUCAS IN 1880. - - BY GEORGE F. WATTS, R.A. - - - THE eldest son of the sixth Earl Cowper by the eldest daughter and - coheiress of Earl De Grey. He was educated at Harrow and Christ - Church, where he was first class in Law and Modern History. From 1871 - till 1873, Captain of the Gentlemen-at-Arms; from 1880 till 1882 he - was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Having married in 1870 Mary Katrine - Compton, eldest daughter to the fourth Marquis of Northampton. In 1871 - Lord Cowper established his claim to the baronies of Butler and - Dingwall, obtaining an Act of Parliament for the reversal of the - attainder of those titles. Few Englishmen can boast among their - ancestry names more celebrated on the pages of history,—the names of - men who, differing in class, country, and characteristics, have each - swayed the destiny of nations,—the Patriot Stadtholder of Holland, the - Royalist Viceroy of Ireland, and the Protector of England, the late - Lady Cowper being a lineal descendant of one of Cromwell’s daughters. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LORD COWPER’S STUDY. - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - THE HONOURABLE SPENCER COWPER, DEAN OF DURHAM. - - _Canonicals. White bands._ - - BORN 1712, DIED 1774. - - - HE was the second son of the Lord Chancellor Cowper by his second - wife, who mentions ‘our little Spencer,’ with great affection, in her - Diary, when sick of some infantine complaint. He married, in 1743, - Dorothy, daughter of Charles, second Viscount Townshend, by whom he - had no children. He was buried in the Cathedral at Durham. - - - ------------------------- - - - _No. 2._ - - THE HONOURABLE EDWARD SPENCER COWPER, M.P. - - _Black coat. White cravat._ - - BORN 1779, DIED 1823. - - - THE third son of George, third Earl Cowper; born at Florence; came - over to England for his education with his two elder brothers. Resided - at Digswell, county Herts; represented Hertford in Parliament. - Married, in 1808, Catherine, youngest daughter of Thomas March - Philipps of Garendon Park, county Leicester. His widow married again - the Rev. D. C. A. Hamilton. - - - ------------------------- - - - _No 3._ - - JOHN CLAVERING, ESQUIRE OF CHOPWELL, COUNTY DURHAM. - - _Crimson velvet coat, lined with blue silk. White cravat._ - - - HE was brother to Mary, Countess Cowper, wife of the Chancellor, who - makes frequent mention of him in her Diary. At his death his nephew - Earl Cowper annexed the name of Clavering to his own patronymic, and - inherited the fortune and estates of his maternal uncle. - - - ------------------------- - - - _No. 4._ - - WILLIAM COWPER, AFTERWARDS FIRST EARL, AND LORD CHANCELLOR, AS A - YOUTH. - - _Slashed sleeves. Brown mantle._ - - - ------------------------- - - - _No. 5._ - - MARY CLAVERING, WIFE TO THE FIRST EARL, LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER. - - _Yellow satin gown. Holding a book. Fountain in the background._ - - BORN 1635, DIED 1724. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - THE daughter of John Clavering, Esquire of Chopwell, county Durham, a - younger branch of an ancient Northumbrian family, all Jacobite in - their tendencies. Mary Clavering and William Cowper became acquainted - in consequence of some law transactions, on which she had occasion to - consult him at his chambers. Their marriage took place shortly after - he was appointed Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. ‘The wooing was not - long a-doing;’ but it was far from being calm or uninterrupted in its - progress; and though Lady Cowper’s Diary, from which most of our - materials are taken, does not commence till 1714, when she began her - Court life, yet she goes back several years to tell us how many - adverse influences were at work to prevent the union, which proved so - well assorted. How my Lord, being a widower when the Queen gave him - the Seals, it was no wonder (particularly as he was still young and - very handsome) that the young women laid out all their snares to catch - him. Lady Harriet de Vere especially marked him as her prey. This - lady, daughter of the last Earl of Oxford of that family, was very - poor, and of a damaged reputation. She had made several advances to my - Lord through her kinswoman, Mrs. Morley, but finding nothing come of - it, set a spy on his actions, and dogged his steps to find out the - cause of this coldness, which turned out to be no other than pretty - Mistress Mary Clavering; upon which a clandestine correspondence was - begun,—letters purporting to be from some great personage, and - threatening him with the ruin of his official prospects if he married - the lady in question. The first letter came the day before the - marriage; but as the union was kept a secret, the plotters still - continued to prosecute their schemes. ‘And so for months my Lord had a - letter of whole sheets every day to tell him I was a mean wretch and a - coquette, and the like, and how that one night the Lord Wharton (a - noted profligate) had said to my Lord Dorchester at the theatre, “Now - let us go and hear Molly Clavering sing the opera all over again.” - Which was a lie, for I never did play in any public company, but only - at home when visitors asked me.’ Some time afterwards the Lord Keeper - agreed to accompany one Mrs. Weedon (who said she had a fine lady to - recommend to him), in order to discover who his clandestine - correspondents were, and found his suspicions confirmed, for Lady - Harriet de Vere and Mistress Kirke were the very ladies who waylaid - and ogled him whenever he came out of chapel. Lady Harriet was full of - ‘airs and graces,’ which were of no avail. She told Lord Cowper that - the Queen was very anxious she should be married, and had promised to - give her a dowry of £100,000, upon which the gentleman replied, on - that score he durst not presume to marry her, as he had not an estate - to make a settlement answerable to so large a fortune. At length they - pressed him so hard, he was forced to confess he was already married, - and that, in spite of all their abuse, he could only find one fault in - his wife, and that was that she played the harpsichord better than any - other woman in England. Now Lady Cowper says she never would have told - this story had she not thought it incumbent upon her to do so, when - the Duchess of St. Albans (Lady Harriet de Vere’s sister) recommended - Mrs. Kirke as a fit person to be bedchamber woman to the Princess of - Wales. For some reason, public or private, perhaps a combination, the - Lord Keeper kept his marriage a secret at first. In one of his letters - to his wife (with whom he kept up a brisk and affectionate - correspondence) he says: ‘December, 1706. I am going to visit my - mother, and shall begin to prepare her for what I hope she must know - in a little time.’ In another letter he gives an account of a cold, - dark journey, and how his only consolation was to think her journey - was shorter, and by day-light, so that he was not in fear for what he - was most concerned for. - - In answer to her declaring she disliked grand speeches, he agrees, and - thinks the truest love and highest esteem are able to give undeniable - proofs of themselves; therefore he shall depend for ever on making - love to her that way. A little later he writes playfully about the - lady he has carried into the country (presumed to be a fat old - housekeeper); and hopes that the picture of his ‘dear life’ may soon - be finished, so as to console him in some measure in his next - banishment. He begs her not to imagine from anything that may look a - little trifling or cheerful in his letters, that his mind is - constantly in that tune: ‘’Tis only when I enjoy this half - conversation with you, who, I assure you, are the only satisfaction - that I propose to my hopes in this life.’ Again, he cannot go to rest - without expressing his concern and amazement at her collecting ‘so - much disquiet from so harmless a passage,—’tis my want of skill, if it - was not the language of a lover.’ He writes at great length to dispel - his dear love’s ‘melancholy fancy,’ and values no prospect in life as - the continuance of her favour, and the unspeakable satisfaction he - shall ever derive from doing her all the good in his power; and so on. - - The Diary of Mary, Lady Cowper, was published from private documents - at Panshanger in 1864, and, though fragmentary, is very interesting. - It commences with the accession of George I.; and the writer tells us - she had been for some years past (apparently through the medium of - Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough) in correspondence with Caroline of - Anspach, Princess of Wales, who had written to her most kindly. Lord - and Lady Cowper were both strongly in favour of the Hanoverian - succession, the wife having embraced her husband’s political opinions - in contradistinction to those of her father. On the arrival of the - Royal Family, Lady Cowper was kindly received, but the offer of her - services was evasively answered by the Princess, so much so that she - took it for granted ‘Her Royal Highness had had so many applications - on the subject that she could not take me into her service. I - therefore resolved not to add to the number of her tormentors, and - never mentioned the thing any more.’ She was confirmed in her opinion - when she heard that two ladies had been already appointed, and she - well knew ‘that the necessity of affairs often forces Princes to act - contrary to their inclinations.’ The coronation took place in October - 1714, and thither Lady Cowper went with Lady Bristol (herself a - candidate for a post in the Princess’s household), who told her - companion she well knew that she (Lady Cowper) was to get an - appointment. The two ladies found the peeresses’ places so full that - they had to seek accommodation elsewhere, and Lady Cowper settled - herself next the pulpit stairs, when Lady Northampton and Lady - Nottingham came hand in hand; and the latter ‘took my place from me, - and I was forced to mount the pulpit stairs. I thought this rude; but - her ill-breeding got me the best place in the Abbey, for I saw all the - ceremony, which few besides did, and never was so affected with joy in - my life.’ Here follows an amusing account of how Lady Nottingham broke - from her place, and kneeled down in front, which nobody else did, - facing the King, and repeating the Litany. ‘Everybody stared, and - thought she had overdone the High Church part. The Lords over against - me, seeing me thus mounted, said to my Lord “that they hoped I would - preach,” upon which he answered “that he believed I had zeal enough - for it,” whereupon Lord Nottingham made some malicious remark, said - with such an air, that, joined with what Lady Nottingham had done that - day, and some other little passages that had happened, opened my eyes, - and showed me how that family maligned me.’ She takes occasion to - mention that the ladies not walking in procession had no gold medals. - Lady Dorchester stood next to her—Catherine Sedley, whom James II. - made a peeress, and who was reported to have said, ‘I wonder for what - quality the King chooses his mistresses; we are none of us handsome, - and if we have wit, he has not enough to find it out.’[4] And when the - Archbishop went round asking the consent of the people, she turned and - said: ‘Does the old fool think that anybody here will say no to his - question, where there are so many drawn swords?’ - -Footnote 4: - - Charles II. said his brother’s mistresses were imposed upon him by - his confessor as a penance. - - The Princess asked Lady Cowper if Lady Essex Robartes had delivered a - message, and, being answered in the negative, ‘Her Royal Highness went - on to tell me I had made a conquest, and seeing me blush, continued, - “It is M. Bernstorff, who never was in love in his life before, and it - is so considerable a conquest that you ought to be proud of it; and I, - to please him, have ordered him to make you a compliment from me.”’ - - Baron Bernstorff was indeed a good friend to have at Court, being at - that time German Minister and prime favourite of George I., who - consulted him on every appointment of every kind. He waited on Lady - Cowper the same evening, and told her she was appointed ‘Dame du - Palais,’ and was to kiss hands next day. - - A friendship was formed, which withstood many a change and chance, and - more than one misunderstanding. On the Baron taking leave, the lady - intrusted him with her lord’s treatise, _An Impartial View of the - State of Parties_, which she herself had translated into French, and - transcribed for his Majesty’s perusal, who was no English scholar. - ‘Great discussion whether the Princess, on going into the city, was to - kiss the Lady Mayoress (and quoting of precedents); but as her late - Majesty had not done so, it was arranged neither should the Princess.’ - The new Lady-in-Waiting was in attendance when Her Royal Highness went - to the Lord Mayor’s Show. ‘Poor Lady Humphrys made a sad figure in her - black velvet, bawling to her page to hold up her train, being loath to - lose the privilege of her Mayoralty. But the greatest jest of all was - that the King and Prince had been told that the Lord Mayor had - borrowed her for that day only. I had much ado to convince them of the - contrary, though he by marriage is a sort of relation of my Lord’s - first wife.’ Query, was that a sequiter? ‘They agreed’ (Lady Cowper is - quite right to record any occasion on which the King and his son were - of the same mind) ‘that if he had borrowed a wife, it would have been - a different one from what she was.’ - - _October 30th_ (Diary).—‘The Prince’s birthday: the Court splendid; - the ball opened by him and the Princess. She danced in slippers - (heelless shoes) very well; but he better than any one.’ - - Lord and Lady Cowper, from their relative positions, had often to keep - company that cannot have been very palatable to so well-conducted a - pair. ‘Supped at the Lord Chamberlain’s (the Duke of Shrewsbury); Lord - and Lady Wharton and Madame Kielmansegge to wait on the King. Another - evening; I was mightily amused; but I could not but feel uneasy at - some words I overheard the Duchess of Bolton say in French, which led - me to believe the two foreign ladies were no better than they should - be.’ This remark alludes to Madame Kielmansegge, the daughter of the - Countess Platen (who had been mistress to the Elector, George I.’s - father), and wife of General Kielmansegge, after whose death she was - created Countess of Darlington by the King. Horace Walpole paints a - frightful picture of ‘the Ogress,’ whose appearance terrified him when - a boy. The Duchess of Shrewsbury was an Italian lady, of wit and - talent, whom Lady Cowper found it impossible to dislike as much as her - lord, for she was very entertaining, though she would sometimes exceed - the bounds of decency. Many members of the Princess’s own household - were themselves of very doubtful reputation, and we find the name of - Mademoiselle de Schulenberg of frequent recurrence in the Diary, a - lady who had been maid of honour to the Electress Sophia, the King’s - mother, and was afterwards created Duchess of Munster and Duchess of - Kendal. - - _November 8th_ (Diary).—‘My birthday [she was twenty-nine]. God grant - that the rest of my life may be passed according to his will, and in - his service.’ High play was the order of the day at both Courts, and - the Princess and her ladies sat down every night to stake more than - they possessed, while the King was often very angry with those who - would not gamble. ‘I played at basset as low as I could, for which I - was rallied; but I told my mistress I only played out of duty, and - nobody could think ill of me if, for the sake of my four children, I - desired to save.’ - - From numerous entries in the Diary, it would appear that Lady Cowper - was averse to spreading slanderous reports, which were daily poured - into her ear, from party feeling, respecting many ladies of whom she - had no reason to think ill; but the quarrels and cabals at Court were - endless, and daily increasing; and she was sometimes drawn into a - dispute from feelings of just indignation, such as when my Lady - Nottingham accused Dr. Clarke (the famous controversialist, whom - Voltaire called _un moulin à raisonnement_) of being a heretic. But on - being pressed to quote the passage on which she founded so heavy a - charge, her ladyship threw up her head and replied, she never had, nor - did she ever intend, to look into his writings. Then said Lady Cowper, - ‘What, madam! do you undertake to condemn anybody as a heretic, or to - decide upon a controversy, without knowing what it is they maintain or - believe? I would not venture to do so for all the world. All this - happened before the Princess, and was not likely to advance Lady - Nottingham’s wish to be governess to the young Princesses.’ Taking - leave of her Royal mistress at the end of her week of waiting, she - says: ‘I am so charmed with her good qualities, that I feel I never - can do enough for her. I am come to Court with the fixed determination - never to tell a lie, and she places more confidence in what I say than - in any one else on that account.’ This was in the first year of Lady - Cowper’s service. Unfortunately her enthusiasm in this quarter was - destined to be modified. It was evidently always a pleasure to her to - bring the name of any one in whom she was interested before the Royal - notice. She told the Prince of Wales that she never failed to drink - his health at dinner, ‘which made him smile and say, He did not wonder - at the rude health he had enjoyed since he came to England; but I told - him I and my children had constantly pledged him before his arrival, - by the name of “Young Hanover, Brave!” which was the title Mr. - Congreve (the poet) had given him in a ballad. The Prince, however, - was not learned in English literature, and asked who Mr. Congreve was, - which gave me an opportunity of saying all the good of him that he - deserved.’ She also bestirred herself to get places under Government - for her relations, who were for the most part very ungrateful; so much - so, that she could not help answering rather pettishly, ‘that the next - time they might get places for themselves, for I would meddle no - more.’ And her lord was so angry with them, he was for depriving the - offender of a commissionership he had himself bestowed at Lady - Cowper’s instigation; ‘but I soothed him, and told him after all I did - them good for conscience’ sake.’ The Lady-in-Waiting and her Royal - mistress had many a laugh together in these early days over some of - the eccentricities of Court life. Such, for instance, as when Madame - Kielmansegge came to complain to the Princess that the Prince had said - she had a very bad reputation at Hanover. The Princess did not think - it likely—the Prince seldom said such things; but Madame cried, and - declared people despised her in consequence, and she drew from her - pocket a certificate, written and signed by her husband, General - Kielmansegge, to say she was a faithful wife, and he had never had any - reason to suspect her. The Princess smiled, and said she did not doubt - it, but that it was a very bad reputation that wanted such a - supporter. Another specimen was Madame Tron, the Venetian - ambassadress, ‘who says, now she is come into a free country, she will - live and go about like other people. But the Italian husband is more - jealous than the German, and often beats his wife, which she is grown - used to, and does not care about, unless he spoils her beauty. So she - goes by the name of “La Beauté, sans Souci.” But she has been heard to - exclaim, when he is chastising her, with a very Italian accent, “Oh - prenez garde à mon visage!”’ ‘Lady Essex Robartes (daughter of Lord - Nottingham) is just beginning her long journey to Cornwall, which she - does with great fear.’ - - We cannot refrain from quoting Lady Cowper on the drama, when the - Princess consulted her respecting the propriety of being present at - the representation of ‘The Wanton Wife,’ or, as it was afterwards - called, ‘The Amorous Widow,’ written by Betterton,—the Duchess of - Roxburghe having given her opinion that nobody could see it with a - good reputation. ‘I had seen it once, and few I believe had seen it so - seldom; but it used to be a favourite play, and often bespoke by the - ladies. I went with my mistress, who said she liked it as well as any - play she had ever seen; and it certainly _is not more obscene than all - comedies are_. It were to be wished our stage were chaster, and I - hope, now it is under Mr. Steele’s direction, that it will mend;’ from - which observation we may conclude that, at least in the particular of - morals, our English stage has not deteriorated. It was evident the - Lady-in-Waiting’s influence was high at this moment, since the Duchess - of Roxburghe begged her to try and prevent Sir Henry St. John from - being made a peer. It was he of whom the anecdote is told, that when - his son was created Lord Bolingbroke, he said to him: ‘Ah, Harry, I - always thought you would be hanged, and now I find you will be - beheaded.’ - - Lady Cowper was apparently overpowered not only with solicitations to - procure places for friends and acquaintances, but sometimes intrusted - by her husband with messages of public importance to the Prince and - Princess, or that still greater personage, Baron Bernstorff; and she - seems to have carried out her mission with much discretion on more - than one occasion, as we before remarked. The fair lady and her - friend, the German baron, came to high words. He told her sharply one - day, ‘“My Lord est beaucoup trop vif, et vous êtes beaucoup trop vive - de votre côté. Les ministres se plaignent beaucoup de my Lord Cowper. - Ils disent qu’il leur reproche trop souvent, les fautes qu’ils ont pu - commettre.” The wife replied, “Notre seul but est de bien servir de - roi.” He repeated his words, and then said with great violence, - “Croyez moi, vous êtes trop vifs, tous les deux, cela ne vaut rien, - cela tourne en ruine.” I believe it was the first time that an English - lady, who had bread to put into her mouth, had been so treated. I knew - whence all this storm came; and plainly saw our enemies had got the - better.’ - - This was the time to which we have alluded in the notice of the Lord - Chancellor. Now, although more especially at this time Lady Cowper was - very desirous that her husband should retain office, for she ‘would - rather live with him in a garret up three pair of stairs, than see him - suffer,’ yet she always answered with spirit when the subject of his - resignation was discussed. ‘Mrs. Clayton came in and told me it was - reported that Lord Cowper was going to lay down. I answered, They say - he is to be turned out, and they need not have given themselves the - trouble; if they had but hinted to my Lord they were weary of him, he - would have laid down. They know he has done it already, which is more - than ever will be said of them.’ Though a courtier in the literal - sense of the word, Lady Cowper disdained to trim and truckle, as most - of her colleagues did. - - She had carried herself towards the mighty baron with distant dignity, - since the passage of arms to which we have alluded. He made his niece, - Mademoiselle Schütz, his ambassador, to complain of having been - treated distantly and coldly, never being allowed to see Lady Cowper - alone of late, and so forth. When permitted to renew his visit, he - expostulated with her on her believing that he was willing to oust her - husband; and upon her saying she understood it was so destined by the - Ministry, the baron made a world of asseverations of how he was - incapable of injuring the Lord Chancellor, that the King had the - greatest possible kindness for him, and that none could take his place - from him but God alone, and so forth. Upon which Lady Cowper tossed - her head and observed, ‘One must be fond of a place before you fear to - lose it, and it was too painful a place to be fond of.’ Then the baron - retorted that Lord Cowper was peevish and difficult, and so thought - the King, and he begged her ladyship would use her best arguments to - soften and make him more compliable;—which she certainly did, though - she did not let Bernstorff into the secret, for, at least at this time - of day, she was most unwilling to see her husband vacate the Woolsack. - - The Mademoiselle Schütz to whom an allusion has been made, is thus - described: ‘She was a pretty woman, and had good qualities, but was - withal so assuming that she was mightily hated at Court. The Prince - disliked her most especially, but I saw her very often.’ Too often, as - it proved in the sequel, for the Fraülein made herself most obnoxious - after a bit, coming at all hours, when not wanted, to the Cowpers’ - house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and ‘writing at every turn, which is - very troublesome. I wish she had as many occupations as I have. I had - a letter from her to offer to come and stay with me; I thank her for - nothing. I had enough of her impertinence last night.’ Another time - she insists on the loan of a costly pearl necklace, which the - Lady-in-Waiting wanted to wear herself (not being overstocked with - jewels), at the birthday; now it is a ‘lace head’ to go to Court in; - now she wishes for a set of gold ribbons as a gift. ‘Commend me to a - modest assurance. It lifts one out of many a pinch, I find. Lady - William Powlett complained of her too, “she is very importunate, and - always on the spunge.” I fell a-laughing, and said, “I was very glad - it had come to anybody’s share besides mine.” - - On the 5th of December in this year (1715), the Diary records the - entrance into London of the Jacobite prisoners who had been taken at - the battle of Preston,—their arms tied, and their horses led by - soldiers. The mob insulted them, carrying a warming-pan before them in - ridicule of the Pretender, and saying many spiteful things, which some - of the prisoners returned with spirit. ‘The chief of my father’s - family was among them, Clavering of Callalee, who is above seventy - years old. I did not see them come into town, nor let any of my - children do so. I thought it would be insulting to several relations I - had there, though almost everybody else went to see them. I forgot to - say M. Bernstorff made me a strange offer, through his niece, to let - my cousin Tom Forster escape on the road, if I had a mind to it.’ This - gentleman was knight of the shire for Northumberland, and was a - general in the Jacobites’ army; he had proclaimed the Pretender at - Warkworth. He was imprisoned in Newgate, but eventually escaped. - - Lord Widdrington, who was impeached at the same time as Lord - Derwentwater, was also a connection of hers; and she gives this as a - reason she could not go to the State trials, although her Lord - presided as Lord High Steward, an appointment which vexed her much. - She gives the order of procession, with many servants, and coaches, - one with six horses, Garter King at Arms, Usher of the Black Rod, etc. - etc. Lady Cowper did not seem to take the same delight in the - melancholy pageant as most of the fine world did, for she says, ‘I was - told it was customary to have fine liveries on such an occasion, but - had them all plain. I think it very wrong to make a parade on such an - occasion as putting to death one’s fellow-creatures. The Princess came - home much touched with compassion. What a pity that such cruelties - should be necessary! My Lord’s speech on pronouncing sentence was - commended by every one, but I esteem no one’s commendation like Dr. - Clarke’s, who says, “’tis superlatively good, and that it is not - possible to add or diminish one letter without hurting it.”’ - - Many entries in the Diary now speak of Lord Cowper’s continued - illness, and how he had again a mind to quit office. His wife, who in - spite of all the squabbles and ‘unpleasantness’ she describes, was - still in high favour with the Prince and Princess, and was not - insensible to the splendour and amusements of a Court life, loved her - Lord above all such considerations, and told him she ‘would never - oppose anything he had a mind to do,’ and, ‘after arguing calmly on - the matter, I offered, if it would be any pleasure done him, to retire - with him into the country, and what was more, never to repine at doing - so, though it was the greatest sacrifice that could be made him. I - believe he will accept.’ But a little while after she says, ‘My Lord - is better, and not so much talk of retiring, though I laid it fairly - in his way.’ - - The troublesome Fraülein Schütz seemed to have chosen this time of - anxiety to be more importunate than ever about loans of jewels and - finery: ‘When she asked me for my diamonds, saying she had less - scruple in doing so because I look best in a state of nature, and - jewels do not become me! Commend me to the assurance of these - foreigners!’ - - On a similar occasion Lady Cowper makes some very moral reflections, - slightly tempered by a dash of pardonable vanity. After an excuse for - wearing an emerald necklace, which had been lent her lest she should - disoblige her friend, she meant also to wear her own pearls in her - hair, though she don’t care one brass farthing for making herself - fine, and hopes always to make it her study rather to adorn her mind - than to set off a vile body of dust and ashes! - - The advice given to Mrs. Collingwood, the wife of one of the Jacobite - prisoners, must have shocked the feelings of so loving a wife as Mary - Cowper. Mr. Collingwood, a Northumberland gentleman, was under - sentence of death, when his wife wrote to an influential friend to - intercede in his behalf. Here is the answer: ‘I think you are mad when - you talk of saving your husband’s life. Don’t you know you will have - £500 a year jointure if he’s hanged, and not a groat if he’s saved? - Consider, and let me know. I shall do nothing till then.’ There was no - answer to the letter, and Collingwood was executed. - - About this time great exertions were made to induce the King to - reprieve some (at least) of the prisoners, and Lady Cowper was - evidently instrumental in gaining that of Lord Carnwath, who would - otherwise have suffered with Lords Kenmure and Derwentwater. She gave - a letter from the imprisoned nobleman to the Princess, who wept on - reading it, and sent word in answer that if Lord Carnwath would - confess, she would give him her honour he should be saved, but that - was the only way. Now, though the King was not over partial to ‘cette - Diablesse de Princesse,’ as he often called her, yet the violent - language and opinions she sometimes held were not altogether without - their influence on the Royal mind. Lord Nithisdale escaped by the - connivance of his devoted wife, and Lord Carnwath was reprieved. ‘God - grant us peace to heal all our divisions, and to take away the rancour - that is among us.’ ‘Lord Nithisdale’s escape confirmed; I hope he’ll - get clear off; I never was better pleased at anything in my life, and - I believe everybody is the same.’ - - _March 1._—The Princess of Wales’s birthday. ‘I am ill, but must go to - wish her many years of health and happiness, which I unfeignedly do, - for she’s a most charming delightful friend as well as mistress.’ Her - Royal Highness said M. Bernstorff had been urging the Prince to agree - to Lord Cowper being made President of the Council, which the Prince - refused to do, unless assured that Lord Cowper wished it. ‘I said Lord - Cowper was ready to quit, if they found anybody better to put in his - room, but would never change that of which he could acquit himself - with honour, for that he could not perform at all.’ - - Party ran so high in this year (1716), that even a meteorological - phenomenon—‘a light so great that from my windows I could see people - walk across Lincoln’s Inn Fields though there was no moon’—was pressed - by Whigs and Tories into their interests,—the former saying it was - God’s judgment on the horrid rebellion, the latter that it was a mark - of vengeance on the Whigs for the late executions. Mr. Gibson, the - antiquary, says it has ever since been spoken of as ‘Lord - Derwentwater’s lights.’ Lady Cowper was coming home in her chair on - the night in question, and her bearers were so frightened that she was - forced to let her glass down and preach to them all the way to comfort - them. She observes that if anybody had overheard the dialogue they - could not have helped laughing. - - Lady Cowper’s chairmen were apparently not very efficient altogether; - she twice complains of the shifts she was put to in consequence of - their drunkenness, and her having to come home in the first hackney - she could find. Another time she lost her servants altogether, and had - to borrow the Duchess of Shrewsbury’s chair. The bickerings and - altercations between the Court ladies were interminable, more - especially between the German and English; and no wonder, when the - Germans talked as one of their great ladies did, saying that ‘English - ladies did not look like women of quality, but pitiful and sneaking, - holding their heads down, and always seeming in a fright, whereas - foreigners hold up their heads and hold out their bosoms, and look - grand and stately;’ upon which Lady Deloraine replies, ‘We show our - quality, madam, by our birth and titles, not by sticking out our - bosoms.’ - - The Diary tells us that on May the 29th, those who disliked the - reigning family wore green boughs, and on June the 10th (the - Pretender’s birthday) white roses. Nothing now but cabal and intrigue, - petty Court jealousies, bitter hatred and enmity among the political - parties, the ins and the outs, and unseemly quarrels between the two - highest in rank in the country. - - It was settled that the King was to go to Hanover for at least six - months, the question of the Regency during his absence being the worst - bone of contention of all. But we have treated this subject more at - large in the notice of Lord Cowper, who was constantly peacemaking and - pouring good counsel into the ears of the Prince of Wales. - - Diary.—‘For my part, I thought it so absolute a necessity to the - public good to keep all things quiet, that I did heartily and - successfully endeavour to conceal everything that tended to disunion, - little thinking at the time it could ever be called a crime to keep - things quiet.’ - - It was finally settled that the King was to go to Hanover, to which - His Majesty looked forward with pleasure, greatly alloyed by the - necessity of making his son Regent. Always jealous of him, he could - not bear the idea of the Prince of Wales playing at King. When it was - arranged that the Prince should be appointed to the Regency during His - Majesty’s absence, there were as many restrictions put upon him as - possible. In this summer (1716) the Court went to reside, with much - splendour, at Hampton Court Palace, and the Diary leads us to believe - there was some little enjoyment to be derived from that comparative - retirement. But even here the spirit of unrest followed them: Lord - Townshend, who came down frequently on public business, treated the - Princess with so little respect, and paid such court to Mrs. Howard - (to curry favour with the Prince) that both Lord and Lady Cowper - expostulated with him, so effectually indeed as to prevail on the - Minister to change his demeanour, ‘which brought the Princess into - perfect tranquillity.’ Not for long, however, for when Lord Sunderland - arrived to take leave, before joining the King at Hanover, he fell out - with the Princess walking in the long gallery which looks on the - gardens; and he talked so loud that Her Royal Highness desired him to - speak lower, for the people in the garden would overhear him. ‘Let - them hear,’ cries my Lord. The Princess answered, ‘Well, if you have a - mind, let ‘em, only you shall walk next to the window, for in the - humour we are both in, one of us must jump out, and I am resolved it - sha’n’t be me.’ But for such stormy interludes, and the constant - disquietude which the presence of Mrs. Howard (nor of her alone), must - have occasioned the Princess, the time passed pleasantly enough, in - Wolsey’s picturesque old palace, so lately increased in magnitude by - the additions of Sir Christopher Wren. The gardens and pleasances too - had been much improved and enlarged, for Queen Mary’s delectation, and - the Princess, who was a great walker, spent many hours under the leafy - shades of the lime grove, and wandering among the dark yews and - evergreens. - - Diary.—‘The Prince and Princess dined every day in public in Her Royal - Highness’s apartments. The Lady-in-Waiting served at table, but my - ill-health prevented me doing that service. In the afternoon my Royal - mistress saw company, and read or writ till evening, when she walked - in the garden for two or three hours together, and would go to the - pavilion at the end of the bowling-green (which runs parallel with the - river) to play there, but after the Countess of Buckenburgh fell and - put her foot out, the Princess went there no more, but played in the - green gallery. The Duchess of Monmouth was often with us, and the - Princess loved her mightily, and, certainly, no woman of her years - ever deserved it so well. She had all the fire and life of youth, and - it was marvellous to see that the many afflictions she had suffered - had not touched her wit and good-nature, but at upwards of threescore - she had both in their full perfection.’ We cannot resist inserting - this generous testimony to one who was distinguished by Royal favour - at a time when petty jealousies and intense rivalry were at their - height. Their Royal Highnesses left Hampton Court with part of their - retinue by water, and as they glided along in a Royal barge, Lady - Cowper thought ‘nothing in the world could be pleasanter than the - passage, or give one a better idea of the richness and happiness of - the kingdom.’ A break now occurs in the Diary, which began 1714, and - which we have followed up to October 1716. That portion which - concerned the next four years is not forthcoming, and the editor gives - us a clue to the reason. In a memorandum by the Chancellor’s daughter, - Lady Sarah, she copies a letter written to the postmaster at Hertford: - ‘It is reported that at the time of the trial of the Bishop of - Rochester Lord Cowper offered to be bail for him, which was so - resented by a certain person of distinction that he moved for a - warrant to search his Lordship’s house. News of this was sent to Lady - Cowper, and though the report was to be despised, yet my mother had so - many hints and intimations sent her by different people of a design to - attack my father and try to involve his character in the examination - then on foot, relating to Layer’s plot, that she took fright for some - papers she had drawn up by way of diary, also some letters belonging - to the Prince and Princess, which she had in her hands, relating to - the quarrel in the Royal Family, that, not being able to place them in - safety, in a hurry she burned such as she thought likely to do most - harm.’ This is a reasonable explanation of the disappearance of the - records of 1717, 1718,and 1719. In 1718 Lord Cowper resigned office, - to the great regret of all well-thinking persons of whatever party, - the details of which will be found in the Chancellor’s life. The feuds - in the Royal Family had augmented in frequency and violence during - these four years, and Lady Cowper resumes her narrative at a time when - the scandal of these quarrels was so great as to render a - reconciliation imperative on public grounds. Lord Cowper himself had - lost much of the King’s favour by his adherence to the Prince, and the - fair Lady-in-Waiting herself had to undergo many cold looks, and, what - must have been more trying to such a steadfast nature as hers, the - caprice and wayward moods of the mistress she still loved and served - most loyally. New influences were at work, and new favourites on the - scene. As to the reconciliation, though made a subject of public - rejoicing, it was hollow enough. The King lost few opportunities of - slighting his son and daughter-in-law, and he plagued her much, - particularly on the vexed question of the custody of her children, who - had been removed from her care. But we are anticipating. The Diary - re-opens with a visit from Mr. Secretary Walpole (afterwards Sir - Robert) to the Princess of Wales, with offers of reconciliation from - the King, April 9, 1720. The Princess referred him to Lord Cowper, who - lost no time in hastening to the Royal presence to discuss the matter. - - The conditions were most unpalatable to the Prince and Princess, who - were ‘in great anguish.’ They both asked the advice of Lord and Lady - Cowper, and took that of Mr. Secretary Walpole. Among many leading men - of the day, whom the Lady-in-Waiting had no reason to love, were that - Minister and Lord Townshend in particular, and she did not approve of - Walpole’s confession to my Lord, that he did almost everything through - the medium of the Duchess of Kendal, who was ‘virtually Queen of - England.’ Lady Cowper also complains that her mistress has been taught - to suspect her all the winter, and that the Prince scarcely looks at - her, and she marvels how Walpole has got such a hold of them that they - only see through his eyes, and no longer recognise their real friends. - Would not the leafy shades of Cole Green form a pleasant contrast to - this vortex of antagonism?—so at least thought Lord Cowper, ‘who is - sick of the whole affair, and goes out of town to hear no more of it, - and it is more than odds, if he is not pleased with his treatment, - that he will carry me with him.’ - - Grand rejoicings in honour of this reconciliation. Lady Cowper goes to - congratulate the Prince and Princess: ‘The square full of coaches, the - guards before the door, everything gay and laughing, everybody - kissing, and wishing of joy. When I wished the Prince joy he embraced - me, with all his old heartiness, five or six times, and the Princess - burst into a loud laugh, and said: “Sir, I do think you two always - kiss on great occasions.” All the town feignedly or unfeignedly happy. - I kissed Lord Cowper on coming home, and said: “Well, I thank God your - head is your own, and that is more than could be said six months - ago.”’ And then she alludes to all the intrigues that were being - carried on, and says: ‘There was not a rogue in the town but was - engaged in some scheme and project to undo his country.’ - - The King still very distant to his son and daughter-in-law (with - occasional variations of humour), and speaking of the pending change - of Ministry, asked angrily if the Whigs could not come back, without - the Prince of Wales. We have mentioned in Lord Cowper’s life how many - overtures were made to him to return and resume office on the return - of the Whigs to power. He came to his wife’s bedside one Sunday - morning to let his ‘dear girl’ into his secrets,—how that he had - thought with her to take service again, and that he had always - considered a reconciliation so necessary, that it would help to make - everything in its own condition again. And ‘I did think to accept of - that offer made me, of my friend Kingston’s place, who has behaved - himself so shamefully to me, that it would be a piece of justice upon - him.’ But that, on further consideration, all his reasons for quitting - office subsisted still. ‘I am old and infirm, and rich enough, and am - resolved not to enslave myself to any power upon earth. At - five-and-fifty it is time to think of making life easy. My infirmities - will not let me struggle with knaves and fools. My tranquillity will - content me more than all they can give me, under their power and - influence.’ His wife said all she could to dissuade him from this - decision, and he agreed with some of her arguments, but declared he - thought any reproach better than the loss of his tranquillity, and - that his resolution was taken. But to show he was not out of humour, - he would ask for the key which had been promised Lady Cowper, and that - he would accept a place in the Cabinet, but neither place nor pension, - for he was resolved to live a freeman and an Englishman. - - We have inserted this characteristic speech of Lord Cowper’s here, - rather than in the notice appropriated to him, because it was made in - private to his wife, and is recorded in her Diary. No wonder that - after such a conversation, Lady Cowper was often tempted to answer the - Princess and others with some degree of asperity when they insinuated - that her lord was a place-hunter. The day before the new Ministry came - in, she was in attendance on the Princess, and the new Lord Chancellor - was there. ‘I dare say, Lady Cowper,’ said Her Royal Highness, - laughing, ‘you are glad to see the purse in that hand.’ ‘Yes, truly,’ - she replied; ‘I am right glad, and hope it will remain there until - that hand is as weary of it as ours was.’ - - Diary.—‘Lord Cowper invited to the ministerial dinner; does not mean - to go. Great hugging and kissing between the two old and the two new - Ministers. They walk all four with their arms round one another to - show they are all one.’ Now, though Lord Cowper could not be persuaded - to change his resolution as regarded himself, he was most desirous to - obtain the post of Mistress of the Robes for his wife, to whom the - Princess had promised it, and who seemed best fitted by position, - politics, and character, in all the Court. But the King wished the - Duchess of St. Albans to remain, and that lady had ‘locked up the key - in her cabinet, and did not intend to resign, unless compelled to do - so.’ Lord Cowper waited several times on the Princess with the - intention of urging his wife’s claim, but Her Royal Highness gave him - no opportunity, and the lady was sorely aggrieved. ‘The Princess not - willing to give me the key, yet she promised it. And when the King - asked for some one else, she said: “Remember the obligations I am - under to Lady Cowper, no one else can have it.” But now, she says, - “Lady D. [Deloraine?] will be disobliged.” What claim has she?—is it - for flying all over Richmond with the Prince?’ - - ‘A new clamour for the Duchess of St. Albans. I am quite sick of this - usage. Why did the Princess promise me the key, if she had not the - power to give it? To what purpose such dissimulation? Sure she thought - me a tame fool, who was to be easily imposed on, and who had not her - interest at heart. The Germans used to call her, “Une grande - comédienne:” I say no; if actors played their parts in such a manner - they would be hissed off the stage, and must starve. She has - disobliged the two best friends she ever had.’ Here follows a little - bit of natural petulance. ‘There is indeed a great advantage in going - to the drawing-room to be used as ill as Lord Sunderland pleases; he - has undoubtedly taken care to betray his master for at least thirty - pieces of silver; it were well if he would follow out the whole - example, and go and hang himself.’ Alas for the change in Mary - Cowper’s opinion of Caroline of Anspach, and her surroundings! She - gives us a sarcastic speech made by the Archbishop of Canterbury - (Wake), showing to the Princess his opinion of the state of public - matters and public men at that crisis, which we therefore insert:— - - ‘Madam, we must now wish ourselves and the world joy. First of this - happy reconciliation, and next of the honour, integrity, and - disinterestedness of the Ministers, as well as their wisdom and - virtue. They would be matchless were they not equalled by the two - great governors of this Court, Townshend and Walpole. What glorious - things must we not expect from the conduct of the first in the - Ministry and the two last here? What happiness for the people to be - under such directors! and what a glorious figure we must make all the - world over when we are influenced by such counsels!’ - - ‘No, sure, my Lord,’ answered the Princess, somewhat meekly; ‘those - men are not our only advisers—what do you make of Lord Cowper?’ - - ‘Oh! madam,’ replied the Archbishop, ‘he is not fit to be put on a - level with such great men.’ Then the Archbishop asked her plainly if - the Duchess of St. Albans was to have the key? - - ‘No, never!’ she said; ‘though she is always tormenting me about it.’ - - ‘My Lord into the country for good; leaves me to get everything ready. - Busy packing all day. The Princess asks why Lord Cowper leaves London; - and answer, “To avoid importunity, and be quiet.” “And what makes you - go so soon?” “Because he commands me, madam, and I have nothing to do - but to obey.”’ - - The Cowpers still kept up their friendship with Baron Bernstorff, who - was himself subject to the most capricious treatment in high places, - and the German Baron, and the Lady-in-Waiting had many long - discussions on political matters. - - They were agreed on many subjects, and above all in abhorrence of the - South Sea Scheme, which was then the great topic of the day. ‘Go into - the country, nothing material there.’ But she ‘came back to go to the - birthday of our most gracious King.’ ‘Waited on the Princess to Court, - where was one of the greatest crowds I ever saw; it being greatly - increased by our new Lords and Masters of the South Sea, who had more - court made to them than the Ministers themselves.’ - - As a climax to the confusion that reigned between the rival Courts, - the Lord Chamberlain, the Duke of Newcastle, chose to celebrate His - Majesty’s birthday-night by getting drunk, in consequence of which the - ladies of the Princess’s household had no places, but ‘stood in the - heat and crowd all night.’ The Duchess of Shrewsbury scolded aloud, - which only elicited insulting answers from the great official, and so - indignant were the Princess’s ladies, that they all went home, with - the exception of my Lady Dorset. - - Here is another mention of the Chamberlain: ‘Newcastle stood before me - both day and night. If I had not seen his face I should have known who - it was, it being his peculiarity to turn his back upon those he has - any obligations to.’ Another incident in Lady Cowper’s Court life - shows the Princess of Wales could be flippant as well as capricious, - but her attendant was a match for her. ‘She had a mind to be out of - humour with me, and put on a frown. The King turned his back to me who - was playing. But a sudden curiosity took him, and he turned his face - round, and had his eyes fixed on me all night so intently, without - being angry, that it was talked about. The Princess said to me next - morning, that the King could not help liking me as well as ever; and - that she saw plainly by his manner that I could do what I pleased, and - that it was my own fault if I did not rule them all. I answered, for - the thing itself I did not believe it at all, and, supposing it were - true, power was too dear bought when one was to do such dishonourable - work for it.’ - - _July 5._—‘My waiting concluded without my having had any opportunity - of saying one word to the Princess alone, without the door being - open;’—her Royal mistress, whom she so much loved, and by whom, but a - short time ago, she had been trusted, and consulted on every subject, - public or private. It is probable Lady Cowper found much truth in a - passage in one of the Duchess of Marlborough’s letters to her, though, - as far as one could tell, her Grace’s taste did not always incline to - private life! ‘I don’t wonder that you find it melancholy to be away - from your Lord and children, for though the Princess is very easy and - obliging,’—this was as early as 1716,—‘I think any one who has common - sense or honesty must needs be weary of everything one meets with at - Court. I have seen a good many, and lived in them many years, but I - protest I was never pleased but when I was a child; and after I had - been a maid of honour some time at fourteen I wished myself out of the - Court as much as I wished to come into it before I knew what it was.’ - - We have been tempted step by step into lengthening our record of Mary, - the first Countess Cowper, not only because we have authentic records - of herself, and the Court she adorned, from her own pen, but because - in those records we find so much nature and simplicity of style, so - many evidences of her sterling qualities, her many accomplishments and - excellent judgment, the whole tempered by playful sallies and - pardonable petulance. A modest and well-conducted woman in a vicious - Court, and uncontaminated by the immorality of those with whom she was - compelled to associate; the worthy wife of a good and great man, whose - loss she could not endure. She closed his eyes, and four months - afterwards she once more lay by his side in their last resting-place. - - Lord Cowper died in October 1723, and ‘in the latter end of December,’ - says Lady Sarah Cowper, ‘my mother grew much weaker, and extremely - ill. She lost her appetite, and at times her memory, so that she would - speak of my father as if living, ask for him, and expect him home. - When she recollected his death, it was with so lively a grief as if it - had just happened. In short, she had really what is so often talked - of, so seldom seen, a broken heart. She died on the 5th of February - 1724.’ - - She expected him home; he did not come, and so she went to join him in - ‘the Court of Heaven.’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - WILLIAM VISCOUNT FORDWICH, AFTERWARDS SECOND EARL COWPER, SON AND HEIR - OF THE LORD CHANCELLOR. - - _Blue velvet coat. White cravat. Powder._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - MRS. GORE. - - _White flowered brocade. Lace cap._ - - - She was the wife of Charles Gore, Esq. Her daughter married George, - third Earl Cowper, whose acquaintance they made at Florence, where Mr. - Gore and his family were residing. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - GEORGIANA CAROLINA, SECOND WIFE OF THE SECOND EARL COWPER. - - _Grey gown. Blue bows._ - - BORN 1716, DIED 1780. - - - SHE was the younger daughter of John Lord Carteret, afterwards Earl - Granville. Her sponsors were King George II. and his Queen, hence her - baptismal names. In 1733-4 a contemporary paper announces her - marriage:—‘The bride, a beautiful young lady, with a portion of - £30,000, to the Hon. John Spencer, brother to the Duke of Marlborough, - and grandson to Sarah, Duchess Dowager of Marlborough.’ John, or - ‘Jack,’ as he was familiarly called, was one of those reckless - spirits, who, in the days of which we are speaking, went by the name - of ‘Rattlebrains,’ being very wilful, merry, extravagant, and the best - company in the world! Better to laugh, talk, or drink, than to - transact any business with. By this description it will be seen that - between him and his aged grandmother there were many points of - resemblance, and in consequence the Duchess was very partial to her - scapegrace grandson. They fell out, it must be confessed, over and - over again, but Jack always contrived to coax, cajole, or joke himself - back into favour. On one festive occasion, when Sarah was presiding at - the head of her own table at Althorp, supported by a crowd of - daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren, and what not, in the pride of - wealth, relationship, and splendid surroundings, she said aloud, ‘Here - am I, the root, encircled by my branches.’ - - ‘True,’ says mischievous Jack, at the bottom of the table, in a - whisper to his neighbour; ‘pity that the root should not be in its - proper place, under ground.’ The young man to whom the sally was - addressed was thrown into such convulsions of laughter that the - Duchess’s curiosity was aroused, and she insisted on knowing the cause - of so much mirth. Few people dared to gainsay the aged virago, and - certainly not this timid youth; thus questioned, he had neither the - courage nor the imagination for a false or evasive answer, and he - blurted out the bare truth. The Duchess rose in a fury. ‘Leave the - room, Jack,’ said she; ‘leave the house, and never darken my doors - again.’ The culprit obeyed with an air of mock submission, and on - reaching the door he turned, and with a profound salutation, quitted - the apartment. But in another moment his head appeared above the sill - of the window, which was open. He cleared it at a bound, vaulted into - the room, and knelt at his grandmother’s feet. It was the window, not - the door! A perfect reconciliation ensued; and so completely was Jack - forgiven, that the Duchess settled a considerable annuity on him, - pending the large fortune and estates he would inherit by her will, in - addition to those left in trust for him by his grandfather the Duke. - - Mrs. Delany, in her amusing diaries and letters, published of late - years by Lady Llanover, to whom many thanks are due for the same, - speaks constantly of her cousin Georgiana Granville, with an obvious - pride in the relationship. She says, in writing to her sister, ‘You - will expect to hear some account of our cousin Spencer. The marriage - took place between eight and nine o’clock at night. The guests were - very distinguished,—the Dukes and Duchesses of Marlborough and - Bedford, Sir Robert and Lady Worsley, the bride’s grandparents, and - numerous members of their family, Lord Morpeth, Colonel Montagu, etc. - etc. After they were married, they played a pool of commerce, then - retired between twelve and one, and went next day to Windsor Lodge. - They are to return on Monday, to what was Mr. Percival’s lodging in - Conduit Street. Georgiana was dressed in white satin, embroidered in - silver, her laces very fine, and the jewels the Duchess of Marlborough - gave her, magnificent. Frequent allusions are made by the writers of - the day to these famous jewels in which Mrs. Spencer ‘sparkled.’ Then - follows a catalogue of the bride’s wedding bravery, of laces and linen - very fine, and flowered silks, such as would rouse the envy of many a - lover of old brocade in modern times; a pink and silver poudesoy, a - blue damask night-gown, and rich brocades, all stiff with embroidery. - - John Spencer dying, his widow contracted a second marriage with Lord - Cowper, and Mrs. Delany speaks of the union as being a very happy one, - for ‘Georgiana is much attached to her new Lord and his children, and - it is warmly reciprocated.’ Horace Walpole, in describing the gorgeous - sight which the coronation of George III. and his Queen presented, - gives an amusing account of the preparations for the same among the - ladies: how several were dressed overnight, and reposed in armchairs, - with watchers beside them to wake up the sleepers when in danger of - ruffling their garments or tumbling their headdresses. Walpole - conveyed Ladies Townshend, Hervey, Hertford, and Anne Conolly, with - Mrs. Clive, to see the show in his deputy’s house at the gate of - Westminster Hall. Says Lady Townshend, ‘I should like to go to a - coronation, for I have never seen one.’ ‘Why,’ remarked Horace, ‘you - walked at the last.’ ‘Yes, child,’ was the candid reply, ‘but I saw - nothing; I only looked to see who was looking at me.’ There seemed to - have been a great stir among the Countesses, who all objected to - associate with Lady Macclesfield. Horace again: ‘My heraldry was much - more offended with the ladies who did walk, than with those who walked - out of place, but I was not so furiously angry as my Lady Cowper. She - flatly refused at first to set a foot with my Lady Macclesfield, and - when at last compelled to do so she set out at a round trot’ (to - distance her companion?), ‘as if she designed to prove the antiquity - of her family by walking as lustily as a maid of honour of Queen - Guinevere.’ Mrs. Delany writes later on, ‘Lady Cowper is very much - pleased at her son being made an Earl, and all the more as the honour - was entirely unsolicited.’ Lord Spencer was a generous and dutiful - son, and when his mother once more became a widow, he gave her a - charming house at Richmond, fully furnished, where she was very - hospitable to Mrs. Delany and that branch of her family, as well as to - the relations and connections of both her husbands. Here her ‘cousin’ - frequently mentions meeting Lady Spencer and her mother, Mrs. Poyntz, - Anne Maria Mordaunt, who had been maid of honour to Queen Caroline, - and governess to the Duke of Cumberland. Lady Cowper’s letters are - lively and genial. In one, dated New Year’s Day, she says, ‘Last - evening came Lord Montagu (only son of the Earl of Cardigan, created - Baron Montagu). He spent most of the evening alone with me, and I - played on the guitar, and sang to him. I hope we may not be talked - about, for he is quite alive, I assure you, although he is fourscore - struck, as the Duchess of Marlborough used to say.’ Georgiana retained - her good looks to a very advanced age, for Mrs. Delany says, not long - before her death, ‘I saw Lady Cowper yesterday. She is still the - Glastonbury Rose.’ During her last illness, which was of some - duration, her daughter-in-law, Lady Spencer, was unremitting in her - attentions, driving over daily from her home at Wimbledon to Richmond, - sometimes twice in the twenty-four hours, and often passing the night - by the sufferer’s bedside. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - LADY SARAH COWPER. - - _Black gown. Pink ribbons._ - - DIED 1758. - - - THE daughter of the first Earl, Lord Chancellor Cowper, by his second - wife, Mary Clavering. Mrs. Delany in her lively and good-natured - gossip makes frequent mention of Lady Sarah, with whom she became well - acquainted, her ‘cousin Carteret’ being Lady Sarah’s sister-in-law. - This was Georgiana Carteret, Lady Cowper, of whom we have just given a - notice. - - ‘I envy you, says Mrs. Delany, writing to a friend, ‘for living in the - neighbourhood. There is quite a happy nest of brothers and sisters. - Lady Sarah has taken a little cottage to be near Lord Cowper, to whom - she is tenderly attached. We had a delightful day when we drank tea at - Panshanger, and we walked through a beautiful wood, Mrs. Poyntz and - her daughter being of the party. Her daughter had married Lord - Spencer, Lady Cowper’s son by her first husband. Lord and Lady Cowper - took us to Cole Green, a good large house, with nothing in it except, - oh! such a picture!’ This is an allusion to the magnificent portrait, - by Vandyck, of Count John of Nassau Siegen and his family. Lady Sarah - did not long enjoy the facilities which her little cottage afforded of - constant intercourse with her relatives. She fell into bad health, - which entailed great suffering, and died in 1758, making a sad gap in - the happy family circle. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 10._ - - LADY CAROLINE SEYMOUR. - - _Low black gown. White sleeves._ - - - Daughter of the second Earl Cowper by his first wife. Married to Henry - Seymour, Esq. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - WILLIAM LAMB, SECOND VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _Dark coat. Blue tie._ - - BY PARTRIDGE. - - - PASSAGE OPPOSITE LADY COWPER’S BOUDOIR. - - SIR PENISTON LAMB, FIRST VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _Head in pastel._ - - BORN 1745, DIED 1828. - - - HE was the son of Sir Matthew Lamb of Brocket Hall, county Hertford - (originally in the possession of the Winnington family), by Charlotte, - daughter of the Right Honourable Thomas Coke, and sister and heir of - Charles Coke, who died suddenly at Geneva, leaving a very large - fortune. Sir Peniston Lamb, besides inheriting half a million at his - father’s death, came in for a considerable sum, the savings of his - uncle, the Bishop of Peterborough, and to his accumulated wealth he - added considerably by his alliance with the beautiful heiress, Miss - Milbanke, in 1769. - - He was a member of the House of Commons for many years; and in 1770 he - was created an Irish Peer by the title of Baron Melbourne of Kilmore, - county Cavan; in 1780 he was made a Viscount. He was handsome, - gentlemanlike, genial, fond of the country and of sport, but had no - love for study. On the contrary, he was illiterate for a man in his - position; and one or two of his early love-letters to the celebrated - actress, Mrs. Baddeley, have been quoted as examples of bad grammar - and spelling. He was very popular in society, both in London and the - country. But, for his own taste, he preferred his shooting or hunting - parties to the brilliant reunions of Melbourne House, and was the idol - of the neighbourhood round Brocket. He sat in the House of Commons for - many years, but when his eldest son was old enough, he willingly made - way for ‘Pen.’ He was one of the most indulgent of husbands, as we - have said in Lady Melbourne’s Life, and used to declare he had given - his wife her dowry back in diamonds. He was a most tender father, his - health being much affected at the time by his son Peniston’s untimely - death. The Prince of Wales prevailed on him to turn part of his park - into a race-course, for he was easily persuaded to comply with the - wishes of others, and was very kind to his eccentric daughter, Lady - Caroline Lamb, who was fond of him in her own peculiar way. Lord - Melbourne survived his wife some years, and died peacefully; carefully - and tenderly nursed by his son William, and his daughter, Lady Cowper. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - CORRIDOR. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CORRIDOR. - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - HEAD BY REMBRANDT. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - MALE PORTRAIT. UNKNOWN. - - _Black suit and cap. White ruff._ - - BY FERDINAND BOL. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 3._ - - MALE PORTRAIT. UNKNOWN. - - _Black and white dress. White ruff. Coat of arms in corner._ - - BY PORBUS THE ELDER. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - MISS JACKSON. - - _Fawn-coloured frock. Large straw hat lying on the ground._ - - BY WILLIAM JACKSON, R.A. - - - SHE was the daughter of the artist, who was born in 1730 at Exeter, - where his father was a tradesman. Began life as a musician and teacher - of music, but took to painting, and became a Royal Academician. He at - first tried his hand at landscapes, but preferring portraiture, became - a skilful copyist, being especially successful in the works of Sir - Joshua Reynolds, and Gainsborough, who was very friendly to him. - Jackson died in 1803. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 5._ - - LADY OF THE HOUSE OF NASSAU. - - _Black dress braided with gold. White bow. Stand-up ruff._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - ANNE, COUNTESS COWPER. A HEAD. - - - SHE was the daughter of Charles Gore, who resided with his wife and - family at Florence, where Lord Cowper (the third Earl) made her - acquaintance, and married her. Mrs. Delany mentions her cousin, Lady - Cowper, having received a commission from the betrothed lover to buy - jewels for his intended; at the same time he sends his stepmother a - portrait in water-colours of Miss Gore, as a Savoyard peasant. ‘Pretty - enough, but I should think it cannot do her justice, as it certainly - does not answer to her reputation for great beauty.’ She became one of - the leaders of the brilliant society at Florence, where she was very - much admired, particularly at the Grand-Ducal Court. She survived her - husband many years, living for the most part in a villa outside the - walls, where she died at an advanced age. Lady Cowper was said to have - been much imposed upon, and even robbed by her dependants in her - latter days. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - THREE CHILDREN OF THE FIRST EARL COWPER, LORD CHANCELLOR. - - - _The eldest, who is standing, is dressed in a red frock and white - skirt. The two younger children, who are sitting, are in pink, - with white pinafores._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - JARICH VAN BOTNIA. - - _Black suit, trimmed with ermine._ - - - He was ancestor of Lady Henrietta Auverquerque, first wife of the - second Earl Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - LADY. UNKNOWN. - - _Black and white dress. Cap._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 10._ - - LUITS VAN BOTNIA. - - _Black and white gown. Ruff. Peaked cap. Gold chain._ - - - She was the daughter of Jarich Van Botnia, and wife of Louve Van - Walta. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - HENRY BENNET, EARL OF ARLINGTON, HIS WIFE AND DAUGHTER. - - BORN 1618, DIED 1685. - - BY SIR PETER LELY. - - - THE family was settled in Berkshire, when, towards the close of the - sixteenth century, two brothers Bennet went to London, and - respectively made their fortunes by successful commercial - undertakings. From the elder descended a certain Sir John Bennet, - living at Dawley, county Middlesex, who married Dorothy, daughter of - Sir John Crofts of Saxham, county Norfolk. The subject of this notice - was their second son. He was educated under the paternal roof till he - went to Oxford, and was entered a student at Christ Church, where he - took his degree as B.A. and M.A., and was much esteemed both as - scholar and poet. He remained some time at the University, where he - was still a resident when the Court arrived in 1644. - - He was presented to King Charles, and soon after entered the army as a - volunteer. Lord Digby, then Secretary of State, took a fancy to young - Bennet, and appointed him Under-Secretary. But this post did not - interfere with his military duties; he was ever in the field ‘when - honour called,’ and was so severely wounded at Andover, in an - engagement near that town, as to be invalided for a long time. He was - indeed dangerously ill, and there is little doubt that it was in one - of these encounters that he received the scar by which he is so well - known in all his portraits. - - Deeply attached to the Royal cause, on the termination of the war - Bennet went to France, and on into Germany and Italy, never losing - sight of the hope of once more joining and serving the house of - Stuart. In 1649 he was summoned to Paris by James Duke of York, to - fill the post of private secretary. - - King Charles, writing to his brother, says: ‘You must be very kind to - Harry Bennet, and communicate freely with him, for as you are sure - that he is full of duty and integrity to you, so I must tell you that - I shall trust him more than any about you, and cause him to be - instructed in those businesses of mine, when I cannot write to you - myself.’ - - In 1658 Sir Henry Bennet, Knight, was sent as Ambassador to Madrid. - Clarendon says it was at the instigation of Lord Bristol, but at this - time there was strife between the new ambassador and his former - patron. Henry Bennet, with all the zeal that usually characterises a - recent convert to Catholicism, was very anxious that his Royal master - should make his profession to the same faith, whereas Digby, or rather - the Earl of Bristol (as he had become), though himself a Roman - Catholic, considered that such a step would be ruinous to Charles’s - interests. Great bitterness in consequence existed between Bristol and - Bennet, increased by the jealousy excited in the mind of the former - with regard to the latter’s mission, being under the impression that - he himself was far better fitted for the post. - - Sir Henry, however, seems to have pleased most parties in his - diplomatic capacity; and at the Restoration the King gave him the - office of Privy Purse, and made him his constant companion. Bennet was - well calculated to suit the taste of the Merry Monarch. Burnet tells - us he had the art of observing the King’s humour, and hitting it off, - beyond all the men of his time; and Clarendon gives us a clue to one - of the reasons, when he mentions that ‘Bennet filled a principal - place, to all intents and purposes, at the nightly meetings’ (alluding - to the King’s jovial suppers in Lady Castlemaine’s apartments), ‘added - to which, he was most lively and sparkling in conversation.’ - - In 1662 Charles bribed Sir Edward Nicholas to resign his Secretaryship - of State (and that with a considerable sum), that he might bestow the - vacant post on his favourite. The contrast between Bennet’s entire - submission to the Royal will, and the honest rectitude of the - Chancellor (Clarendon), increased the King’s dislike to that worthy - servant of the Crown, on whose downfall Bennet rose still higher. - - In 1663 he was raised to the Peerage as Lord Arlington, whereupon - Clarendon threw some ridicule on the choice of the title, taken from - an obscure village in Middlesex, which had once belonged to Bennet’s - father, but was now in the possession of another family. - - While at the head of public affairs, no measures of any importance - were undertaken, with the exception of the first Dutch war. - - In 1670 was formed the famous Cabal Ministry (spoken of more fully in - our notice of Lord Shaftesbury) which Arlington consented to join, and - of which his title formed one of the initials. - - So notoriously now did he consult the King’s wishes rather than the - public good, that he was rewarded in 1672 by the dignity of Baron - Thetford and Earl of Arlington, and later invested with the Garter. He - was sent on an embassy to Utrecht, in company with the Duke of - Buckingham and Lord Halifax (which was productive of no good results), - and afterwards turned his attention to the overthrow of the Cabal, in - the breaking up of which he was most instrumental. He however fell - into great disrepute with both Catholics and Protestants about this - time, the Duke of York (on the passing of the Test Act) loading him - with every kind of abuse, while the opposite side charged him with - endeavouring to introduce Popery. - - The Duke of Buckingham was loud in censure of Lord Arlington, who was - impeached, and, after making a long defence, acquitted by a small - majority. He held office for some time longer, and advocated a treaty - of peace with the Dutch, but soon after resigned office, having - received (it was said) a _douceur_ from his successor of several - thousands. - - In 1674 he was named Chamberlain of the Household, in recompense (so - ran the Royal declaration) ‘of his long and faithful services, and - particularly of his having discharged the office of principal - Secretary of State to his Majesty’s entire satisfaction.’ - - Lord Arlington’s wish to be again employed in public affairs was not - gratified till 1675, when he once more went on a diplomatic mission to - Holland, in company with the Earl of Ossory. Lady Arlington and Lady - Ossory were sisters, and members of the house of Nassau. This was his - last appearance in public life. Burnet says that ‘Arlington entirely - mistook the character of William, Prince of Orange,’ with whom he had - to deal, speaking to him in a dictatorial manner, which was not at all - agreeable to that Prince, although he was then young in years. - Arlington still held a place in the Royal household, but he had fallen - into disgrace, and the King encouraged and enjoyed any jest, or - ridicule, at the expense of his former boon companion. Nothing - delighted Charles more than to see some of his courtiers put a black - patch upon their noses, and strut about with a long white staff, in - imitation of ‘Harry Bennet.’ - - James II. did not remove him from his post in the household, but he - only survived the new accession a few months, dying in July 1685. - - Lord Arlington was buried at Euston, in Suffolk; his wife was the - daughter of Lewis de Nassau, Count of Beverwoort and Auverquerque (a - natural son of Maurice of Nassau, Prince of Orange), by Elizabeth, - Countess Horn. She had two sisters, Mauritia, married to Colin, Earl - of Balcarres, and the second to the gallant Earl of Ossory. An only - child was born to Lord and Lady Arlington,—Isabella, who married in - 1672 Henry Fitzroy, natural son of Barbara Villiers, Duchess of - Cleveland, afterwards created Earl of Euston and Duke of Grafton. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - LARGE DINING-ROOM. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LARGE DINING-ROOM. - - _All the pictures in this room are full-length portraits by Vandyck._ - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - ANNE LADY RICH. - - _Black dress. White sleeves. Gold-coloured scarf. Curls. Standing - by a table near a window. Dark red curtain._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - SHE was the only daughter of William, second Earl of Devonshire, by - his wife, Lady Christian Bruce, renowned alike for her loyalty, her - wisdom, and her wealth. Lady Anne Cavendish married Robert, Lord Rich, - son and heir to Robert, Earl of Warwick. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - PHILIP, LORD WHARTON. - - _Red doublet embroidered with gold. Dark red breeches. Yellow boots. - Hat under his arm. Holds a stick. Red curtain and garden in the - background._ - - BORN 1613. - - BY VANDYCK. - - - THE family of Wharton derive the name from a ‘fair lordship’ on the - river Eden, county Westmoreland. - - Grainger, in speaking of this picture in the Wrest collection, says of - Lord Wharton that he was in the service of the Parliament during the - civil war in the reign of Charles I., but that courage was undoubtedly - not his shining point. ‘Like his grandson Duke Wharton, he could - better exercise his tongue than his sword.’ - - Walker says of him, that at the battle of Edgehill, where he was the - colonel of a regiment of Roundheads, his Lordship was found hidden in - a ditch, but we are bound to take such testimonies _cum grano_. He was - the fourth Baron, of decidedly puritanical views, and, whether a good - soldier or not, he was constantly with the army, and his political - life was an eventful one. He sat in Parliament for many years, and was - summoned to attend the treaty of Ripon, together with several other - Peers, among those who were the least obnoxious at that time to the - popular party. Lord Wharton was also one of the so-called - Commissioners who went to Edinburgh at the meeting of the Scotch - Parliament. After the Restoration he was sent to the Tower, together - with the Duke of Buckingham and Lords Salisbury and Shaftesbury, - ‘charged with contempt of the authority, and being, of Parliament,’ - for having called in question the Parliament meeting after a very long - prorogation. In this case the Duke of Buckingham petitioned the King, - and the captive Peers were soon set at liberty, with the exception of - Lord Shaftesbury. But Lord Wharton’s chief characteristic seems to - have been his high esteem of the matrimonial state, since he married - three times. His first wife was Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Richard - Wandesford, Knight, in the county of York, by whom he had an only - daughter, married to Robert Bertie, Lord Willoughby d’Eresby, - afterwards Earl of Lindsay. His second wife was Jane, daughter and - heir to Arthur Goodwin, upper Winchenden, county Bucks, by whom he had - six children. His third spouse was the daughter of William Carre, - Groom of the Bedchamber to James I., who was widow of Edward Popham. - By her he had one son, William, killed in a duel. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 3._ - - MADAM KIRKE. - - _Tawny-coloured gown. White sleeves with lace. Pearl necklace. Fair - curls. Standing by a table. Garden in the background._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - SHE was one of the dressers to Queen Henrietta Maria,—‘a situation for - which she competed with Mistress Neville,’ says Grainger, and gained - the preference. When King Charles I. left Hampton Court, he desired - Colonel Whalley to give Mistress Kirke a picture of the Queen, which - appeared to betoken she had been faithful to their Majesties in times - of trouble. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - PORTRAIT OF A MAN UNKNOWN. - - _Dressed in black._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 5._ - - THREE BROTHERS OF THE HOUSE OF BALBI. - - _They are standing on a flight of steps between two columns, feeding a - bird. The eldest wears a red and gold doublet, red stockings, - white collar and cuffs, holding a black hat. The second boy in a - black and gold suit, holds his youngest brother by the hand, who - is dressed in a white and gold frock._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - THIS charming picture was bought by the grandfather of the present - Lord Cowper, Lord de Grey, but we are unable to identify the children, - or the date at which it was painted, doubtless during one of Vandyck’s - visits to Genoa; neither have we any authority for the supposition, - but it appears more than probable that the beautiful Marchesa Balbi, - in Mr. Holford’s splendid collection at Dorchester House, is the - mother or sister-in-law of these noble boys. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - DIEGO MESIA FELIPE DE GUZMAN, MARQUEZ DE LEGANES. - - _Black dress. White collar. Order._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - HE was the son of Diego Mesia de Obando, by Elizabeth, daughter of the - Count D’Olvares. From early youth he showed an aptitude for military - and diplomatic affairs; and in 1626 he was created Marquez de Leganes, - and sent by Philip IV. in command of the Spanish forces in the - Netherlands; and the ensuing year the King further employed him in - negotiations respecting the proposed annexation to Spain of some of - the disputed Provinces. Leganes was a companion in arms of the - celebrated Cardinal Infant, Ferdinand, son of Philip III., by whose - side he fought at Nordlingen, and contributed not a little to that - decisive victory gained by the Imperialists over the Swedes and Duke - Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar. It was in allusion to this battle that the - pious Canon Antonio Calderon, in his funeral oration on the Cardinal, - after extolling the virtues and valour of this warlike prelate, - reminded his hearers that Nordlingen was the place ‘where the heretic - Luther preached his most pestilential doctrines.’ On the death of the - Archduchess Clara Eugenia, Ferdinand succeeded to the Government of - the Spanish Netherlands, and thither Leganes followed him, but was - summoned to Milan in 1636, on his appointment as Governor of that - city. Northern Italy was at that time the theatre of constant warfare, - and Leganes distinguished himself in frequent encounters with the - French, the Piedmontese, and the Savoyards. The Valteline especially - was torn by internal discord, the result of religious differences - between the Protestants and the Catholics; while the position of the - country made it an object of desire and contention among foreign - powers. Leganes had his hands full in that direction, both as regarded - military operations and negotiations with the French, who disputed the - territory. On the death of the Duke of Savoy, the Emperor Ferdinand - employed the Milanese Governor to oppose the election of the widowed - Duchess as Regent for her son’s dominions; after which Leganes invaded - Piedmont, took Vercelli, Asti, Crescentine, and some smaller towns; - marched on Turin, where he was unsuccessful; and then attacked Casale, - a stronghold of much importance, where he was beaten back with great - loss by the French, under Comte Simon d’Harcourt. This failure was a - source of terrible mortification to the Spanish General; but the - future had consolation in store for him. His Italian campaign at an - end; he marched into Catalonia, and there had his revenge on his old - enemies, and the Comte d’Harcourt himself, by wresting from them the - town of Lerida, which had been some time in the occupation of the - French. While thus engaged in active service, intrigues were being - carried on at the Court of Spain against Leganes, and imputations were - cast on his military conduct, from which he had great difficulty in - defending himself. In spite, however, of the machinations of his - enemies, he was named Generalissimo of the Forces, and despatched - against the Portuguese in 1646. His death took place in 1655. He had - to wife Philippina, daughter of the famous commander, Ambrogio - Spinola, who had done such gallant service for the Spaniards in the - Netherlands and elsewhere. In the wars of Northern Italy he had been - less successful; and the mortification he experienced from several - discomfitures, combined with the slights put upon him by the reigning - King of Spain, from whose predecessor he had received the highest - marks of favour, was said to have accelerated the death of the great - commander. - - In the collection of the engraved portraits by Vandyck there is a - spirited likeness of the Marquis de Leganes, with a Latin inscription - enumerating his many titles. In addition to those already mentioned, - he was Lord of the Bedchamber to the King of Spain, Grand Commander of - the Order of the Lion, Privy Councillor of State and War, President of - the Council in Flanders, and Captain-General of Artillery. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF SOUTHAMPTON. - - _White satin gown. Blue scarf. Pearl necklace. Fair hair. Landscape - seen through window in the background._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - SHE was the daughter of John Vernon of Hodnet, county Salop, and - married Henry Wriothesley, third Earl of Southampton, brother in arms - of Robert, Earl of Essex, under whom he served in his foreign - campaigns; and in one engagement in which he had distinguished - himself, Lord Southampton was knighted by his general’s hand on the - field, ‘before he could sheathe his sword, or wipe the sweat from his - brow.’ His adhesion to Lord Essex, when that nobleman fell under her - Majesty’s displeasure, nearly cost Lord Southampton his life; but he - was more prudent than his friend, for he made submission, and asked - mercy of Elizabeth, while Essex, who disdained to follow a similar - course in his own case, interceded with the Queen for his former - comrade. Southampton’s life was spared; but he was kept a close - prisoner in the Tower till the accession of King James, when he was - set at liberty. - - Lord Southampton had two sons, the eldest of whom accompanied him to - the Low Countries on military service, where they were both attacked - by fever. Young Lord Wriothesley died, to the inexpressible grief of - his father, who, travelling home with the loved remains ere he was fit - to move, was delayed by a relapse, and expired at Bergen-op-Zoom. - - Lady Southampton survived her Lord many years. We hear of her, 1647, - giving shelter to King Charles on his escape from Hampton Court. She - was staying at her son’s country house, at Titchfield, in Hampshire, - where the King, who was riding for his life, thought best to take - refuge, while he sent messengers to Portsmouth to inquire for a ship - that ought to have been in waiting there, but which failed him. Lord - Southampton, a zealous loyalist, and devoted personal friend of - Charles’s, was absent from home, but his mother, the aged Countess, - was a woman of courage and fidelity, and as deeply attached to the - Royal cause as her son. To her the King felt no hesitation in - declaring himself, and claiming her protection; and in that safe - custody he remained several days, before proceeding to the Isle of - Wight, where he was retaken by the rebels. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - LORDS JOHN AND BERNARD STUART. - - _One boy has long curling auburn hair. He wears a white satin vest, - and hose, silk stockings, and buff shoes. Blue mantle over one - shoulder; his foot is on the base of a pedestal. The other brother - wears a crimson dress, with a tawny yellow mantle over his left - arm. Dark buff boots._ - - - BOTH killed in action, within a few years of each other. Esmé Stuart, - Duke of Richmond and Lennox, had seven sons, all of whom he survived, - and, on his death, the title merging in the person of his Royal - kinsman, Charles II., his Majesty bestowed it on his natural son, by - Louise de la Querquaille, Duchess of Portsmouth, ancestor of the - present Duke. - - Lord John Stuart was the eldest son of Duke Esmé. Grainger, in his - description of the portrait in question, speaks most highly of his - noble disposition and courage, which ‘he carried indeed to rashness.’ - A devoted loyalist, at the battle of Cheriton Down he was charging - up-hill in command of a troop of light horse to attack Sir William - Waller’s army, when he fell into an ambuscade, having had two horses - killed under him. He lay, pierced by innumerable wounds, amidst - hundreds of his own men; he was, however, carried off the field while - still living (as was Sir John Smith, brother to Lord Carrington), and - conveyed first to Reading, and the next day still further on the road, - in order to be within help of skilful surgeons. But the gallant youth - did not survive the second dressing of his wounds. He was buried at - Christchurch, Oxford, as was a younger brother, killed at the battle - of Edgehill. Lord Clarendon, speaking of Lord John, says that he was - early bent on a military career, being ‘of a tough and choleric - disposition,’ and caring little for the ‘softnesses of social life.’ - Yet he must have been of a loveable nature, for his death was deeply - regretted. Lord Bernard was the youngest son of Duke Esmé. He - commanded the gallant troop known as the King’s Bodyguard, consisting - of the most eminent Royalists in both Houses of Parliament, and, - indeed, in all England. Their servants formed another troop under Sir - William Killigrew, and invariably followed their lords and masters to - the field. At the battle of Cropedy Bridge, where the King commanded - in person, Lord Bernard secured the safety of his Majesty, who was in - imminent peril, by charging two bodies of the Roundhead horse, and - bearing the brunt of the enemy’s cannon, by remaining stationary in an - open field, to cover the free passage of the King. He also - distinguished himself greatly at the battle of Naseby, among other - engagements, and in consideration of his services was created Earl of - Lichfield, an honour he did not long enjoy. He was killed at the - battle of Rowton Heath, near Chester, having once more come to the - assistance of his Royal master and kinsman. Young Lord Lichfield was - deeply regretted. The Duke of Richmond’s seven gallant sons all served - in the King’s army, and three of them died, like gallant Cavaliers, on - the field of battle. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - RACHEL, SECOND WIFE OF THOMAS, LAST EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON. - - _She is seated in the clouds, habited in blue floating drapery. In her - right hand she holds a wand; her left rests on a sphere. A skull - lies at her feet._ - - BY VANDYCK. - - - HER father, the Marquis de Ruvigny, came of a noble Huguenot family in - France, and her brother was at one time head of the Protestant party - in that country. But in spite of his religious opinions, he was much - in favour, not only with Louis XIV., but also with Cardinal Mazarin. - He eventually went to England on a diplomatic mission, where he - settled with his family. One of his sons was killed at the battle of - the Boyne, the other was created Earl of Galway by William III. We do - not know the date of Rachel de Ruvigny’s marriage, but take it for - granted that young Wriothesley made her acquaintance on his first - visit to France. His elder brother dying of fever, Thomas, the second - son, succeeded to the earldom of Southampton on the death of his - father. His wife bore him two sons, who both died _v. p._, and three - daughters, the second being Rachel, the faithful and devoted wife of - William, Lord Russel, who was beheaded. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - STAIRCASE. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - STAIRCASE. - - ------- - - - _No. 1._ - - JOHN HUGHES. - - _Violet coat. Wig._ - - BORN 1677, DIED 1720. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - HE was born at Marlborough, in Wiltshire, but went to London, where - his father resided, when quite young; and, being of a delicate - constitution, received his education at private schools. He showed an - early predilection for the gentle arts of poetry, music, and drawing, - yet, when he came to man’s estate, these tastes, which never left him, - did not prevent his filling the posts he held under Government with - credit, and proving himself a good man of business. He had an - appointment in the Ordnance Office, and was secretary to several - Commissions for the purchase of lands for the better securing of the - Royal Docks and Yards of Portsmouth, Chatham, and Harwich. He found - leisure in the midst of his public duties to devote a considerable - time to the acquisition of modern languages, with which he - supplemented his previous knowledge of Greek and Latin. His first - poetic effusion was inspired by the Treaty of Ryswick, and was very - popular. He wrote many translations and imitations of classical - authors, together with such productions as ‘The Court of Neptune,’—an - ode on the return of King William from Holland; and many monodies, - elegies, and panegyrics, chiefly in honour of royal personages, which - would now be considered but dreary reading. For all that he was much - esteemed by the literati of the time, being intimate with Addison, - Pope, Rowe, etc.; and Johnson tells us that Addison consulted with - him, and even at one time asked his co-operation, in the matter of his - tragedy of Cato, which, it appears, was finished, and put on the stage - at the instigation of John Hughes. He was also much favoured by men of - high standing and position, and when Lord Wharton was made - Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, he offered our author an appointment in - the sister country. Hughes declined, although at the time in very poor - circumstances; but he had another true friend and patron,—the Lord - Chancellor Cowper, in whose family he had been tutor. Lord Cowper not - only made Hughes secretary for the Commission of the Peace, but, on - his own removal from office, recommended him to the notice of his - successor. Hughes was now in comparatively affluent circumstances, but - his failing health prevented his enjoyment of life. He had consumptive - tendencies, and grew gradually weaker. His last work was a drama - entitled ‘The Siege of Damascus,’ which set the fashion of sieges - innumerable. He completed it a short time before his death, with a - dedication to Lord Cowper; but he had no strength to attend the - rehearsals, or energy to resist the emendations, alterations, and - innovations thrust upon him by the worshipful company of players. The - first night of his tragedy’s representation was the last of the - author’s life; they brought him word that ‘The Siege’ was progressing - satisfactorily; but by that time his thoughts were fixed on the new - life which was opening before him, and he made no remark, but passed - silently away. Many of his works were published during his life; many - more after his death. He was a constant contributor to the - _Spectator_, the _Guardian_, and similar periodicals; and Steele wrote - an eulogistic paper on his death. Two letters which passed between - Swift and Pope may perhaps help to enable us (if we accept their - testimony) in assigning Hughes a place as an author. The Dean writes: - ‘A month ago a friend sent me over the works of John Hughes in prose - and verse. I never heard of the man in my life, yet I find your name - as a subscriber. He is far too grave a poet for me, and I think among - the mediocrists in prose, as well as verse.’ Pope replies: ‘To answer - your question about Hughes: what he wanted in genius he made up in - honesty; but he was of the class you think him.’ - - Only a few weeks before his death he sent Lord Cowper the picture of - which we are now treating, having been painted for him by Sir Godfrey - Kneller,—a very favourable specimen of the artist’s handiwork. Lord - Cowper acknowledges the gift in these words:— - - ‘Sir, I thank you for your most acceptable present of your picture, - and assure you that none of this age can set a higher value on it than - I do, and shall, while I live,—though I am sensible posterity will - outdo me in that particular. I am, with the greatest esteem and - sincerity, sir, your most affectionate and obliged humble servant, - - ‘COWPER. - - ‘_January 24th, 1720._‘ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - MARY, WIFE OF THE FIRST EARL COWPER. - - _Sitting in a garden. Red dress, trimmed with lace. Holding her - scarf._ - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - ------------------ - - - _No. 3._ - - SARAH, LADY COWPER. - - _Red dress, Blue scarf. White sleeves._ - - - SHE was the daughter of Sir Samuel Holled, Knight, merchant of London, - wife of Sir William Cowper, second baronet, and mother of the Lord - Chancellor. She was an eccentric woman, ill favoured and ill tempered, - in constant collision with her husband, her sons, and her servants,—in - fact, to a certain extent, the terror of the household. She wrote a - voluminous diary, still in the possession of her descendant, the - present Lord Cowper,—a strange mixture of pious reflections, together - with anecdotes more remarkable for breadth than point. Towards the end - of her life she became more placable in disposition. She had two - sons,—William, the first Earl, and Spencer, the celebrated judge. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - FREDERIC, LORD BEAUVALE. - - _Brown velvet suit. Blue cravat. Black cloak, trimmed with fur. - Leans against a column, holding his hat._ - - BY PARTRIDGE. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 5._ - - ARNOLD JOOST VAN KEPPEL, LORD OF THE VOORST IN HOLLAND, EARL OF - ALBEMARLE, K.G. - - _In complete armour. Wig, Holding a baton. Blue riband._ - - BORN 1674, DIED 1718. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - THE subject of this notice derived his origin from one ‘Walter,’ a - knight who flourished in the year 1179. He was one of the seven - imperial vassals of Guelderland, who exercised sovereign rights, each - in his several domain. - - Surnames were not known in the middle of the twelfth century. Walter - Van Keppel was probably among the first who made the addition to his - baptismal appellation. Towards the close of the century it became - customary for each knight to call himself after the spot of ground on - which his principal castle was situated. Accordingly, our Walter - assumed the name of an islet on the river Issel, on which he created - his Hoofdslot, which Hoofdslot is now occupied by the descendants of a - female branch of the family. Passing over a long line of ancestors, we - arrive at Oswald Van Keppel, Lord of the Voorst, who (the genealogists - show) bore sixteen quarterings of nobility on his escutcheon. Oswald - dying in 1685, his son, Arnold (whose portrait is under consideration) - succeeded to the lordship of Voorst. He was now thirteen years of age, - Page of Honour to William of Orange, Stadtholder, and the youngest, - liveliest, and handsomest of the five Dutch noblemen who landed with - their illustrious countryman at Torbay on the memorable 5th of - November 1688. On his accession to the English throne, William III. - raised his page to the confidential post of amanuensis, and from that - time never slackened in his partiality and friendship. In 1695, on - Keppel’s attaining his majority, he was created Earl of Albemarle, - Viscount Bury, and Baron Ashford, and, shortly afterwards, Knight of - the Garter. Mackay, in his _Characters_, describes the new Peer as - ‘King William’s constant companion in all his diversions and - pleasures,’ and as being after a time intrusted with affairs of the - greatest importance. He was beautiful in person, open and free in - conversation, and very expensive in his manner of living. ‘About this - time,’ says Bishop Burnet, ‘the King set up a new favourite, Keppel, a - gentleman of Guelder, who was raised from a page to the highest degree - of favour that any person had ever obtained about the King. By a quick - and unaccountable progress he engrossed the Royal favour so entirely - that he disposed of everything in the King’s power. He was a cheerful - young man, that had the art to please, but was so much given to his - own pleasure, that he could scarce subject himself to the attendance - and drudgery that were necessary to maintain his post; he had not, - however, yet distinguished himself in anything. He was not cold or - dry, as the Earl of Portland was thought to be, who seemed to have the - art of creating enemies to himself, and not one friend; but the Earl - of Albemarle had all the arts of Court, and was civil to all.’ If this - spoiled child of nature and fortune counted his Court duties as - drudgery, the same could not be said of his military avocations. He - studied the art of war under his Royal patron, one of the most - consummate captains of the day. So satisfied was the teacher with the - capacity of his pupil, that he not only initiated him into the secrets - of his strategy, but imparted to him no small share in the execution - of his projects,—a confidence which, although placed in so young a - man, the King never had reason to repent. - - In the year of his elevation to the Peerage, Albemarle accompanied the - King on the memorable campaign which ended in the surrender of Namur - to William III., who left his friend behind for the transaction of - some necessary business in that town, whilst he proceeded to his - Palace of the Loo, before returning to England. Here the news of - Albemarle’s sudden and alarming illness so distressed the King that he - sent his own physician, the eminent Dr. John Radcliffe, to the - sufferer’s assistance. Albemarle soon recovered under the good - doctor’s skilful care; and so delighted was the King to have his - favourite restored to health, that he acknowledged Radcliffe’s - services in the most munificent manner. In addition to his travelling - expenses, the Doctor received £400 and a magnificent diamond ring; - Radcliffe was also offered a baronetcy, but he declined, on the plea - of having no son to inherit the title. In 1698 Lord Albemarle received - a grant of 100,000 confiscated acres in Ireland, which grant, however - (as in the case of Lord Athlone and others), the Commons of England - very properly refused to ratify. The following year the King sent some - of the most skilful British artificers to Holland to decorate and - beautify the house and grounds of the Voorst, at a cost of £50,000. - What this large sum would represent in these days, the writer does not - feel competent to hazard an opinion. - - In 1701 Lord Albemarle married Gertrude, daughter of Adam van der - Duen, Lord of Gravemoor, whose descent is traced by the genealogists - of Guelderland to Alphert, ninth Lord of Bridesden, and through him to - Siegfried, son of Arnulf, Count of Holland, who died in 999. - - The Treaty of Ryswick, in 1697, had procured for Europe a few years’ - suspension of hostilities; but in 1702 broke out the Spanish War of - Succession, when Albemarle was sent on a mission to Holland by Royal - command, but was soon recalled in hot haste to England to his dying - master’s bedside. - - ‘The King,’ says Macaulay, ‘was sinking fast.’ Albemarle arrived at - Kensington exhausted by hasty travel, and William bade him rest for - some hours. He then summoned him to make his report. It was in all - respects satisfactory: the States-General were in the best temper; the - troops, the provisions, the magazines were all in good order; - everything was in readiness for an early campaign. William received - the intelligence with the calmness of a man whose work is done; he was - in no illusion as to his danger. ‘I am fast advancing,’ he said, ‘to - my end.’ - - To Albemarle he gave the keys of his closet and private drawers. It - was now about seven in the morning. The Bishop knelt down and said the - customary prayer: when it was ended, the King was no more. By a - codicil to the Royal will, Albemarle came into possession of the - lordship of the Breevervoorst and 200,000 guelders. - - In June 1702 an heir was born to the house of Keppel, who was named - William, after the child’s patron, and Anne, after the reigning - sovereign, who stood godmother in person. Shortly after the birth of - this son, Lord Albemarle returned to his native country, where he - passed the greater part of his time, and took his place as a member of - the Assembly of the States-General. - - We have not space to do more than glance at his military career. - Suffice it to say that he served with distinction successively under - four of the greatest commanders of their day,—William III., Marshal - Auverquerque, the Duke of Marlborough, and Prince Eugène of Savoy; all - of whom in turn bore public testimony to his merits as a soldier. - - In 1712 he was, on the recommendation of the Duke of Marlborough, - appointed to the command of the Dutch forces, and on the death of - Queen Anne he was sent by the States-General to congratulate George I. - on his accession to the British throne. The new monarch, accompanied - by his son, the Duke of Gloucester (afterwards George II.), was Lord - Albemarle’s guest at the Voorst on his first day’s journey towards his - new kingdom. In 1717 Albemarle was nominated by the nobles of Holland - to compliment Peter the Great on his visit to their country, and he - accompanied the Czar in great state to the city, which his Imperial - Majesty had first entered as a journeyman carpenter! Arnold Keppel, - first Earl of Albemarle, died the following year, and was succeeded by - his son, William Anne, Viscount Bury. The portrait of which we are now - speaking is a replica of one in the possession of the original’s - great-great-grandson, the present bearer of the title. There are - several other likenesses in England of this distinguished man, among - which may be noted one at Woburn Abbey, that came into the Russell - family in consequence of the marriage of Lady Elizabeth Keppel - (daughter of the second Earl of Albemarle) with the Marquess of - Tavistock in 1764. - - A. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - WILLIAM LAMB, SECOND VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _Black coat. Hand resting on a table._ - - BY SIR GEORGE HAYTER, R.A. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - GEORGE, THIRD EARL COWPER. - - _Blue velvet coat. Blue and gold waistcoat, and breeches. Sword. Stick - in one hand, Holds his hat in the other above his head, as if in - the act of saluting. Landscape in background._ - - BY ZOFFANY. - - - He was the first Prince of the Holy Roman Empire in the Cowper family. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - JAMES BUTLER, FIRST DUKE OF ORMONDE. - - _In the robes of the Garter. A wand in his hand._ - - BORN 1610, DIED 1688. - - BY SIR PETER LELY. - - - THE biographer of the second Duke thus alludes to the antiquity of the - family:—‘It is sufficient for the honour of the house of Ormonde that - its original is too ancient to be traced, and that its first descents, - even after it became considerable for its possession, power, and - alliances, cannot be ascertained.’ - - According to the above-quoted author, the immediate ancestor of the - family, Theobald Walter, accompanied King Henry II. to Ireland about - the year 1171, when Roderick, King of Connaught, and many other petty - Princes, yielded up their sovereignty to the English monarch. Theobald - Walter did Henry good service in the new country, and received as a - reward such extensive grants of lands, as determined him to take up - his residence in Ireland; and from that time forth the fortunes of the - family have been bound up with those of the sister island. The post of - Chief Butler (hereditary) was also assigned him, with a further grant - of what was called ‘the prisage of wine,’ which entitled Theobald and - his descendants to one tun of wine out of nine brought by any ship - into Irish ports. In 1315 Edmund le Botillier (it is an open question - if the name were derived from the office) was created Earl of Carrick, - as a recompense for his loyal services to Edward II. He was Guardian - and Governor of the kingdom of Ireland; and henceforth his descendants - in the succeeding reigns were almost invariably connected with the - government of that country, whether as Lords-Deputy, Lords-Justices, - or Lords-Lieutenant. - - Lord Carrick’s son married the King’s cousin, and was in 1322 created - Earl of Ormonde. He had also the rights of a Palatine in the county of - Tipperary conferred on him,—rights which were taken away and restored - again and again in the troubled times of that ever troubled country. - Few families in any part of the world have been more remarkable for - the vicissitudes of fortune than the Butlers. The seventh Earl of - Ormonde died without sons, and left his two daughters very large - fortunes; the youngest married Sir William Boleyn, and was grandmother - to Queen Anne of that name. - - Sir Piers Butler, a distant relative, became heir to the Irish - estates, but King Henry VIII., at the instigation of his - father-in-law, Sir Thomas Boleyn, prevailed upon him (chiefly, it is - said, by conferring on him the title of Ossory) to relinquish the - earldom of Ormonde in favour of the said Sir Thomas, on whose death, - however, a few years afterwards, the rightful Earl of Ormonde resumed - his title. We are induced to give these details in consequence of the - strange coincidences which befell the heads of this family in - different reigns. - - Thomas, the tenth Earl, a man of undaunted courage, who began his - military career at an early age, was a great favourite with Queen - Elizabeth, and for a time with King James I. ‘His courage in the field - and his spirit in private occurrences were remarkable. He always held - the Earl of Leicester at defiance, and did not scruple to charge him - to the Queen as a knave and coward.’ There is an amusing anecdote told - of the two noblemen meeting one day at Court, in the antechamber. - After the usual exchange of civilities, says Lord Leicester, ‘My Lord - Ormonde, I dreamed of you last night.’ ‘What could you dream of me?’ - inquired the other. ‘That I gave you a box on the ear,’ was the - rejoinder. ‘Oh,’ exclaimed Lord Ormonde; ‘do you not know that dreams - are always interpreted by contraries?’ and with that he bestowed a - hearty cuff on the Royal favourite. This one-sided satisfaction - entailed on Ormonde a visit to the Tower; but he was soon released. - The Queen had a great fancy for him, in spite of Lord Leicester’s - enmity, and used to call him her ‘black husband.’ His dark complexion - had gained for him in Ireland the nickname of ‘Dhuiv,’ or ‘the Black.’ - He was three times married: first to Elizabeth, daughter and heiress - to Thomas, Lord Berkeley; secondly to Elizabeth, daughter of Lord - Sheffield; and thirdly to Ellen, daughter of Lord Barry and widow of - Lord Poer, whom he married when he was old and blind. He had children - by his second wife only,—a son, who died in boyhood, and a daughter, - Elizabeth. This young lady married, by her father’s wish, her cousin, - Lord Tulleophelim, who died very shortly afterwards without children. - King James I. obliged the aged Earl of Ormonde, much against his will, - to bestow the hand of his widowed daughter on one of his own Scotch - favourites, Sir Richard Preston, whom he first created Baron Dingwall, - and afterwards, in (what his Majesty was pleased to call) right of his - wife, Earl of Desmond, an act which caused universal dissatisfaction - in Ireland,—so time-honoured a title to be bestowed on an alien. Not - content with this deed of injustice, James ordained that Preston - should become possessed of the bulk of the Irish property which - Thomas, Earl of Ormonde, had bequeathed to his successors in the - title. At his death in 1614, the King used every endeavour to persuade - Sir Walter Butler (who became eleventh Earl) to yield up his rights in - favour of Lord Desmond, but, with the true spirit of his race, he - showed a bold front to the tyrant, in consequence of which he was - thrown into the Fleet prison, where he remained in captivity for eight - years. His eldest son, Lord Thurles, married Elizabeth, daughter of - Sir John Poyntz, of Iron Acton, county Gloucester, by whom he had - James, first Duke of Ormonde, and several other children. - - The subject of our notice was born in 1610 at Newcastle House, in - Clerkenwell, belonging to the Duke of that title, but inhabited at the - time by Lady Thurles’s father, Sir John Poyntz. The infant was nursed - by a carpenter’s wife at Hatfield, and remained in her charge, when - his parents returned to Ireland, till he was three years old, when - they sent for him; and the Duke used in after years to relate that he - could call to mind, even at that tender age, how he had been carried - in arms through the streets of Bristol, and what he then noticed on - the bridge. He appears to have had a most retentive memory, for he - also recollected being taken to visit Thomas, the aged Earl of - Ormonde, who was living at his estate of Carrick-upon-Suir, and who - felt a great interest in the child, not only as his future heir, but - on account of his former friendship with Sir John Poyntz. The Duke - often spoke in his later life of the impression his kinsman had made - on him: a grand old man, with sightless eyes and long white beard, - wearing his George round his neck, which he never laid aside, whether - sitting in his chair or lying on his bed. He would take the boy on his - knees and caress him, this last year of his life, for Earl Thomas died - in 1614. James lived on in Ireland with his father and mother, till - the unfortunate death of the former, who was drowned off the Skerries - on his voyage to England in 1619, _v.p._ - - The little Lord Thurles accompanied his mother to London the following - year, and went to school at Finchley, under a Roman Catholic priest, - who educated him in his own creed,—the actual Earl of Ormonde and all - the younger branches of the family adhering to the Church of Rome. But - Thurles was a ward of the Crown, and the King removed him from - Finchley, and transferred him to Lambeth Palace, to be brought up as a - Protestant, under Abbott, Archbishop of Canterbury. The Primate - troubled himself very little as regarded the youth’s education, - probably because he received no allowance whatever, even for the - maintenance of his pupil. To the young Lord himself James only doled - out the paltry sum of forty pounds a year for all expenses. The - biographer of the second Duke, in alluding to these circumstances, - says that ‘intelligence found means to supply the want of education.’ - Even after his marriage Lord Thurles studied Latin, from his uncle’s - domestic chaplain, when on a visit to Iron Acton. He also acquired a - knowledge of the Irish language, which he found of the greatest - service to him during his government, enabling him to communicate - personally with the Irish chiefs. He became, indeed, in every way a - most accomplished gentleman; his grandfather, the stout-hearted Earl - of Ormonde, had endured imprisonment and hardship of all kinds rather - than submit to the unjust demands of the King, or surrender his lawful - rights, but at the expiration of eight years he was released, and a - great portion of his estates restored to him,—upon which he hired a - house in Drury Lane, and sent for his grandson from Lambeth Palace to - come and reside with him. Lord Thurles was delighted with his - emancipation from the dull atmosphere of the Primate’s roof. He mixed - in all the gaieties of the town, and took especial pleasure in - theatrical representations and in the society of the leading members - of the profession. He was also a frequent attendant at Court, by the - express wish of Lord Ormonde, who left him in London to make his way - in the world, while he returned to Ireland to look after the property, - which had been long neglected. The circumstances attending the - marriage and courtship of Lord Thurles were of so romantic a nature, - that we are induced to give them in detail, although reluctant to - record a stumble on the threshold of so noble a career. It was at - Court that he first saw his cousin, Lady Elizabeth Preston, daughter - to Lord Dingwall and Desmond, already mentioned, by Lady Elizabeth - Butler. She was a ward of the King’s, who had placed her under the - care of Henry, Earl of Holland, who held an office at Court. Though - very young, she had a perfect knowledge of all the family disputes, - and had been much influenced in Lord Thurles’s favour by the advice of - her kinsman, Lord Mountgarret, who not only highly commended the young - man, but pointed out to the heiress that their union would be a means - of reconciling all former difficulties. When the cousins met at Court, - Elizabeth ‘liked the person of the young Lord, which was very - handsome, his mien and manner witty, insinuating; and the vivacity of - his parts, with the sprightly turn of his wit, made the conversation - most pleasing to her.’ This was remarked on, and the King admonished - Lord Thurles not to meddle with his ward. The secret of this was that - the Duke of Buckingham had arranged with Lord Desmond that his nephew, - Lord Feilding, should espouse Lady Elizabeth Preston, with a remainder - to their heirs of her father’s titles. The said Earl of Desmond had - also received from the King the power over the wardship and marriage - of Lord Thurles, so that there seemed but little hope of the union on - which the cousins had set their hearts. But Elizabeth had the spirit - of her race. Her affections were irrevocably fixed, and she was in a - humour to say with the beautiful bride of Van Artevelde:— - - ‘Me shall no earthly potentate or prince - Toss, like a morsel of his broken meat, - To any suppliant: be they advised - I am in wardship to the King of kings, - God and my heart alone dispose of me.’ - - Now Lord Holland was inclined to further Lord Thurles’s suit, actuated - thereto, it was said, by pecuniary inducements; but the Royal commands - were not to be disobeyed, openly at least. There was one in the house, - however, who was in a position to assist the lovers, and that was Lady - Isabella Rich, Lord Holland’s daughter, Elizabeth’s chosen friend, and - sister in all but name,—a lovely, sharp-witted girl of her own age. - She admitted Lord Thurles every day, at all hours, in a clandestine - manner; nor did her parents object or interfere, but allowed her to - make a feint of herself receiving the young man’s addresses; and - implicit trust was placed by all parties in Isabella’s rectitude. - - Alas for the compact! which we must believe was begun in good - faith. Lord Thurles, as we have said, was young, handsome, - agreeable,—captivating, in fact, and the _rôle_ of confidante is - proverbially dangerous. In an evil hour he forgot his loyalty to - his betrothed, and Isabella forgot her friend, herself, her duty, - and all but her infatuation for the man who was playing a double - part by the two girls. Few romances can outdo this real history in - sensational incident. Lord Desmond was drowned about the same time - as his wife died, and the latter left as her last injunction that - Elizabeth should marry her cousin, and thus restore the property - to the rightful branch,—for Lady Desmond had never been easy in - her mind over these unlawful acquisitions. Buckingham was - assassinated, and King Charles I. gave the Royal consent to the - union of the cousins; ‘and so,’ says the biographer of the great - Duke of Ormonde (who, by the way, makes very light of this - episode), ‘the marriage was joyously celebrated, and everybody - content.’ We are not informed how the unfortunate Lady Isabella - fared on the occasion; her content could not have been great; but - the _dénouement_ remains to be told, and though, as a matter of - dates, it should come much later, we think it advisable to finish - the concluding acts of the drama in this place. - - Several years afterwards, when Lord Ormonde was in Paris, he went to - the Academy to visit a handsome and intelligent youth, whom he had - sent thither for his education; whereupon he sat down, and wrote a - long description of the boy to Lady Isabella (then the wife of Sir - James Thynne of Longleat), being a subject in which they had a common - interest. As ill-luck would have it, he at the same time indited a - letter to his wife, and misdirected the covers. While Lady Ormonde was - making the discovery that she had been cruelly deceived and betrayed - by the two people she at that time loved best in the world, Lady - Isabella came in, and found her reading the fatal letter. - - Tears, sobs, caresses—an agitating scene—ensued. Isabella humbled - herself before the woman she had so grievously injured, and sought by - every means of fascination that she possessed, to soften her just - resentment. Lady Ormonde, generous and high-minded, almost beyond - belief, raised the suppliant, who was kneeling at her feet, with the - promise not only of forgiveness, but of unchanging friendship,—a - promise nobly kept, as we shall see later. Scarcely more marvellous is - the fact, for we cannot doubt the evidence, that Lady Ormonde not only - never upbraided her husband, but from that day kept a profound silence - on the subject. Nor was this all. Some time afterwards, when Lady - Ormonde was residing with her children at Caen, she received a letter - from Lady Isabella, who had again got herself into hot water, - recalling her promise of unchanging friendship, and asking for - shelter. The generous-hearted exile not only welcomed her old - companion to share her small house and straitened means, but allowed - her to remain for nearly two years under her roof, during which time - Lord Ormonde was a constant visitor. The destinies of the two women, - who had been early friends, but whose characters were diametrically - opposed, were strangely entangled,—Lady Isabella, being described in a - contemporary journal as ‘one of those rattle-brained ladies,’ was most - eccentric, to say the least of it, and full of ‘strange vagaries;’ - while Lady Ormonde was remarkable for sound sense and judgment, and - for her dignified and stately deportment. We make an extract bearing - on this subject from the Life of Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill, - afterwards Earl of Orrery. This nobleman, who, like his father and his - brothers, was a zealous Royalist, was surprised one day at receiving a - summons from the Protector, who bluntly offered him a high command in - the army in Ireland under Government. Broghill gave for answer that - nothing should induce him to take arms against the King, his master. - ‘No one asked you to do so,’ was the angry retort; ‘I offer you the - alternative of serving England against the Irish insurgents, or - proceeding without delay to the Tower of London.’ - - The first choice was the most palatable, and Broghill returned to - Ireland, where he continued to give proofs of his courage and martial - skill. Between him and Lord Ormonde there had been some disagreement, - but they were reconciled, and Broghill ever afterwards remained the - fast friend of both husband and wife, and, standing high in the - Protector’s favour, in consequence of his military services, more than - one opportunity presented itself of being useful to them. He had come - over from Ireland, when the Protector sent for him, and thus addressed - him: ‘If you are still interested in my Lord Ormonde’s safety, you had - better advise him to leave London. We know all about him, where he is, - what he is doing, and he had best absent himself.’ - - The hint was given and taken, and Lord Ormonde left England - accordingly. A short time elapsed, when one day Lady Ormonde was much - distressed at receiving a domiciliary visit from one of Cromwell’s - functionaries, who ransacked the house, and carried away every paper - he could find. She immediately sent for her faithful friend, and - besought him to intercede once more in her behalf. Broghill lost no - time; he hurried off to Whitehall, and found the autocrat in a - towering passion. ‘You have undertaken, indeed,’ he said, ‘for the - quietness of a fine person. I have allowed my Lady Ormonde £2000 a - year out of her husband’s estates, because they were sufferers in - Ireland. But I find she is a wicked woman, and I promise you she shall - pay for it.’ It was some time before Lord Broghill could gain a - hearing, but when he was permitted to speak, he asked what proof could - be adduced of Lady Ormonde’s guilt, upon which Cromwell threw him a - letter, that certainly left no doubt of the writer’s Royalist - tendencies and disaffection to the existing Government. ‘This was - found,’ said the Protector, ‘in searching the escritoire at Lord - Ormonde’s house.’ Lord Broghill could not help laughing. ‘But this,’ - he observed, ‘is not the writing of my Lady Ormonde.’ ‘Indeed,’ - rejoined Cromwell angrily, ‘and pray who wrote these lines?’ Bent on - saving his friends, Lord Broghill not only explained the letter was - from Lady Isabella Thynne (between whom and Lord Ormonde there had - been undoubted love passages), but he produced some other letters from - the same lady to identify the handwriting, and further proceeded to - relate several anecdotes of a most lively nature respecting her, which - turned all Cromwell’s wrath into merriment, and he laughed - immoderately. Broghill’s judicious conduct had gained his friends’ - cause. - - We have forestalled events in order to finish the romance of which - Lady Isabella Thynne was the heroine, and we must now turn back to the - year 1629, being that of the marriage. Lord Thurles took his bride to - the house of his maternal uncle, in Gloucestershire, where they - remained a year, and then proceeded to Carrick, in Ireland, where his - grandfather lived, and where he began his military career by - purchasing a troop of horse. He went to Scotland, and then to England, - and succeeding to the title of Ormonde on Earl Walter’s death, - returned to Ireland in 1633. There he began a life of activity, which - never ceased from that time forward. Many passages in Carte’s Life of - the ‘great Duke’ tend to confirm our previous remark, that Irish - history, more than that of any other nation, verifies the saying, ‘Que - l’histoire se répète.’ - - Great were the expectations raised all over the kingdom, in 1623, of - important matters to be done on the coming over of a new Lord-Deputy, - endowed with a larger measure of authority, etc. This was Lord - Wentworth, who arrived in Dublin in July 1633. Lord Ormonde did not - delay to repair thither, in order to pay his respects to my Lord - Wentworth, who, chancing to observe him from a window, as he was - crossing the Castle-yard, observed to the standers-by, ‘If I possess - any skill in physiognomy, that young man will be the chief of his - family.’ - - At the outset of their acquaintance, an incident occurred which - threatened to make a breach between these two high spirits, but, - instead thereof, cemented a friendship, which was only terminated by - the untimely death of Lord Strafford. During the session of the Irish - Parliament, the Lord-Deputy had found it advisable to prohibit the - Lords wearing their swords, lest, in the heat of argument, they might - have recourse to sharper weapons than those of eloquence. The order - was obeyed in every instance, save that of my Lord Ormonde, who, when - the Usher of the Black Rod insisted on his disarming, replied angrily, - marching on in a stately manner, and taking his seat in the House, - ‘You shall have no sword of mine, except through your body.’ On being - summoned before the Lord-Deputy for this open act of insubordination, - he proudly drew forth the King’s warrant for his admission to the - Privy Council. The Lord-Deputy was satisfied, and the two noblemen - became fast friends. When evil days fell on Strafford, and the Irish - Parliament joined the English in hastening his downfall, Lord Ormonde - pleaded his cause in the Upper House with so much reason and eloquence - as to bias a considerable party in Strafford’s favour, at least for a - time. The letters which passed between them during the latter’s - imprisonment were couched in the most affectionate terms. Writing from - the Tower, the captive tells his friend that he has recommended him to - the King for the Lord-Deputyship of Ireland; and later he writes: - ‘There is so little rest given to me, my noble Lord, that I have - scarce time to eat my bread. Your Lordship’s favours to me in my - afflictions are such as have and shall level my heart at your foot so - long as I live.’ - - On the eve of his execution, Strafford intrusted Archbishop Usher with - some last requests to the King, amongst which was the earnest hope - that the Earl of Ormonde should have his vacant Garter. The offer was - made; but Lord Ormonde declined, saying that his loyalty needed no - such stimulus, and that the honour might be more advantageously - bestowed for the King’s service. - - At the breaking out of the Irish rebellion, the King wished to appoint - him Lord-Deputy, but was overruled by the Parliament, which had - resolved on Lord Leicester. He was however selected by the - Lords-Justices in Ireland for the chief command of the forces in that - country. The appointment was an excellent one. He was successful - against the rebels for a considerable period, and his services were - (for a time) duly appreciated by the English Commons, who voted a - large sum of money to purchase him a jewel of great value. They also - recommended him to the King for the Garter, an honour that was - bestowed later on a most deserving knight. Ormonde was indeed as - chivalrous as he was brave, keeping good faith with his savage - adversaries; and a noble answer given by him is worthy to be recorded - here. One of the native chiefs threatened to take reprisals on Lady - Ormonde and his family. ‘My wife and dear ones,’ said the General, - ‘are in your power; but for myself, I should never be dastardly enough - to revenge any offence they received on the women and children of my - enemies.’ - - After a while his popularity began to wane, and he became a mark for - jealousy and calumny on both sides of St. George’s Channel. The - Lords-Justices thwarted him in his campaigns, and stinted him in - supplies, and the Lord-Deputy Leicester never let slip an opportunity - of doing him an evil turn, both in public and private. The King, - however, remained his staunch friend, and wrote him a most flattering - letter, renewing his command of the army, and raising him to the grade - of a Marquis. The account of the Irish rebellion would, and indeed - has, filled many a large volume, and concerns history rather than - biography. We cannot do more than glance at events, in which Lord - Ormonde himself bore so distinguished a part. After giving the most - striking proofs of valour, patriotism, and loyalty in his encounters - with the insurgents, under difficulties of almost unparalleled - hardship, want of supplies, provisions, and the like, he found himself - compelled to agree to a cessation of arms for twelve months. The news - of this treaty was received with much disapprobation in England, and - was represented by the enemies of Ormonde and of the King, as ‘an - unseasonable and unnecessary concession;’ but Charles was duly - impressed with the honour and ability of his faithful servant, and - resolved to make him Lord-Lieutenant in the stead of Lord Leicester. - The gallant General was unwilling to accept the post, but was - persuaded to do so, ‘without much hope, indeed, of serving the Crown, - or remedying many of the disorders.’ - - During his tenure of office, political and religious factions were at - their height in this most unhappy country, and intrigues on both sides - of St. George’s Channel were carried on against the Lord-Lieutenant, - paralysing his efforts, till he had no choice but to conclude a - peace,—a peace that was no peace. Conspiracies of all kinds were - hatched,—and one in particular was discovered, the aim of which was to - seize the person of Lord Ormonde in his own castle of Kilkenny, whence - he escaped with much difficulty to Dublin, where he was besieged by - the insurgents. He held out till all his supplies were exhausted, and - he had lost every hope of redress. The King was a prisoner in the - hands of the Roundheads, who had sent over Commissioners to Ireland; - there was no choice left for Ormonde but to surrender to the Irish, or - English rebels. He chose the latter alternative, and, delivering up - the keys to the Commissioners, embarked for England, followed by the - prayers and good wishes of the well-affected among the citizens, but - more especially of the poorer clergy, whose wives and children had - been saved from starvation by his bounty and that of his excellent - wife. He reached England, went first to Iron Acton, gained a pass from - General Fairfax which gave him access to the King (then a prisoner in - his own palace of Hampton Court), and hired a lodging at - Kingston-on-Thames, in order to remain in the vicinity. He had - frequent intercourse with his Royal master, who fully appreciated all - his devoted friend and subject had dared and done for his service, and - reiterated his opinion that no one else was qualified to fill the post - of Viceroy of Ireland. But this view of the case did not fall in with - the notions of those in authority, and Ormonde received intimation to - the effect that it would be advisable for him to leave England, which - he accordingly did, and, crossing to Dieppe, proceeded to Paris, to - join the Queen, Henrietta Maria, and the Prince of Wales. - - While residing in the French capital, Lord Ormonde kept up a - continuous correspondence with the loyalists in Scotland, and more - especially with the influential leaders in Ireland. There had existed - a feud between the Lords Ormonde and Inchiquin and Lord Broghill, - General of the Horse, but it was not difficult to bring about a - reconciliation between three devoted servants of the Crown. Lord - Ormonde was at length prevailed on by the wishes of the Queen and - Prince, as also by the earnest solicitations of the Royalists in - Ireland, to return to that country, and resume his post as - Lord-Lieutenant. He had, during his stay in Paris, entered into - communication with many leading members of the Roman Catholic - religion, with a view to a pacification between the two opposing - creeds on his return, and had also endeavoured to raise at the French - Court a sufficient sum to insure him proper supplies; but in this - respect he was wofully disappointed, and he landed in Cork with the - miserable sum of thirty French pistoles in his military chest. - - Everything was against him in Dublin,—the hands of the - Parliamentarians, Cromwell’s emissaries spread far and wide over the - country, while Prince Rupert, who commanded a Royalist fleet on the - coast, was less assistance than detriment to the cause, from his - unceasing jealousy and rivalry of other officials. The news of the - King’s execution was received with consternation by his partisans in - Scotland and Ireland, and with profound grief by Lord Ormonde, who - caused the Prince of Wales to be instantly proclaimed, and wrote off - to him urging the advisability of his coming over in person,—a scheme - which was not carried out. The Lord-Lieutenant was now engaged in - negotiations of a pacific nature with the so-called ‘old Irish party’ - (headed by Phelim O’Neill, and other leading Roman Catholics), and he - concentrated all his energies on gaining possession of Dublin. But the - death of O’Neill, the arrival of Cromwell with a large body of troops, - and the number of desertions, all conduced to render his position - untenable. He only waited for the King’s sanction to leave Ireland, - and once more embarked for France, where, after a most tempestuous - voyage, he joined his wife and children at Caen, and passed many - months between that temporary home and Paris, where he finally joined - the king, as a regular attendant, after Charles’s escape from the - battle of Worcester. - - Ormonde was now reduced to the greatest straits, having but one - pistole a week for his board, and being obliged ‘to go afoot, which is - not considered reputable in Paris;’ added to which, his wife found it - impossible to live on at Caen, even in the modest style to which she - had lately been accustomed; and the King had nothing to spare out of - his scanty pittance to assist his friends. In these trying - circumstances, it was arranged that Lady Ormonde should go to England - in person, and endeavour to gain some redress from Parliament. It was - no agreeable errand, but the lady was well qualified to act with - spirit and determination, tempered by tact; and she did not shrink - from the undertaking. - - Her dignity of demeanour and her courage were proverbial. It had been - said of her that she had the spirit of old Earl Thomas; and she knew - how to inspire Cromwell with respect. In her interviews he always - treated her with the greatest consideration, and accompanied her - downstairs to her coach or chair, although she was kept long in - suspense about her financial demands, and the great man often answered - her arguments by a shrug of the shoulders. It may not come into the - proper place, as far as dates are concerned, but, speaking of her - relations with the Protector, we must allude to an audience she had of - him later. Cromwell was very jealous of the growing power and - popularity of Lord Ossory, and although he had already granted him a - pass to travel beyond seas, he suddenly thought it safer to have him - seized, and sent to the Tower. His mother immediately proceeded to - Whitehall, or wherever Cromwell was holding his reception at the time, - and asked her son’s freedom, saying she knew not who were his - accusers, or of what crime they accused him, but that she would answer - with her life for her son’s innocence. Cromwell begged to be excused - giving her an answer, but observed he had much more reason to be - afraid of her than of anybody else. - - ‘I desire no favour,’ said the noble petitioner aloud, before the - hundreds who were present on the occasion, ‘but do consider it strange - that I, who have never been implicated in any plot, and never said a - word against the Protector, should be considered so terrible a - person!’ - - ‘No, madam, that is not exactly the case,’ replied Oliver; ‘but your - worth has gained you so great an influence over all the commanders of - our party, and we know so well your power over the other side, that it - is in your Ladyship’s breast to act what you please.’ - - The incident speaks well for both parties, and Oliver, with all his - faults, had learned to respect a noble woman when he encountered one, - being blest as he was in his wife and mother. After many delays and - heartburnings, the Parliament authorised Lady Ormonde to receive from - the Irish Commissioners a yearly income for herself and children of - £2000 out of her own inheritance, together with the house of - Donnemore, near Kilkenny, for their residence. - - Here she took up her abode, and never saw her Lord again till the - Restoration. The treaty which was concluded between the Protector and - the Court of France rendered it imperative on the English King to - leave Paris, and, accordingly, accompanied by Ormonde, he proceeded to - Spa (to meet his sister, the Princess of Orange), and afterwards to - Aix-la-Chapelle and Cologne. - - From the latter place he despatched Lord Ormonde to Paris on an errand - of trust and difficulty. The young Duke of Gloucester had been sent to - the French capital with a hardly-wrung permission from Oliver to - pursue his education under the auspices of his mother, who had pledged - her word to the King not to tamper with the boy’s religion,—an oath - which Henrietta Maria evidently thought ‘more honoured in the breach - than the observance.’ - - She accordingly separated the Duke from his Protestant tutor, and - placed him under the care of a Jesuit priest, where she frequently - visited him, and by alternate coaxing and threatening strove to bring - her child over to her own creed. The boy stood firm, and declared he - would never disobey his father’s last injunctions, but the Queen’s - menace of never seeing his face again grieved his affectionate nature - so much as to injure his health. Ormonde arrived in Paris, armed with - the King’s authority to convey the Duke of Gloucester to Cologne, but - the necessary funds for travelling expenses were not forthcoming, so - the Duke went to reside for a time in Paris with Lord Hatton, a firm - Royalist and faithful Protestant. Lord Ormonde was not one to be - baffled in any undertaking in which he was engaged: he pawned his - Garter, and the jewel which the Parliament had given him, to defray - the cost of the journey; and he set out with his young charge, - travelling for safety _via_ Antwerp, where he was like to have died of - a fever. At length, however, he placed the youth under the protection - of the King, his brother, and they remained together till the - Restoration took them to England. - - So temperately and judiciously had Lord Ormonde conducted this affair, - that the King was deeply grateful to him, and he still kept a - tolerable hold on the good graces of the Queen, and was, indeed, - afterwards instrumental in bringing about a reconciliation between - mother and son. He was now employed in several diplomatic missions of - importance, especially with the Court of Spain, and he ventured into - England, at the risk of life and freedom, in order to communicate with - the Royalists at home. He landed on the coast of Essex in disguise, - and went to London, where he lay _perdu_, only venturing out at - nightfall, and running the gauntlet of many dangers and adventures, - which were not without some charm for a man of his spirit. - - We cannot refrain from alluding to an incident, which, though in - reality trivial, has a laughable side, and there has been little that - is laughable to record in the life of Lord Ormonde. He often changed - his lodgings, and was constantly reconnoitring the premises with a - view to escape, changing his clothes, generally lying down dressed. He - had an aversion to wearing a periwig, so a friend gave him a dye to - turn his own hair black, but the lotion was badly mixed, and the - ingredients deleterious, so that poor Lord Ormonde’s head was not only - scalded, but his hair came out in party-coloured patches of every - variegated hue, more likely to attract than elude observation. - - He returned to Paris, having proved, what was already undoubted, his - courage and zeal to the King’s service, but with no other good result. - His presence in the French capital was almost as dangerous as it had - been in London, for Cromwell had set a price upon his head, and the - Cardinal Mazarin, who was then Prime Minister, was by no means - insensible to the charms of money. - - The liberality of Lord Ormonde, even in his straitened circumstances, - had like on one occasion to have been productive of unfortunate - results, and the incident teaches a lesson of the necessity of - studying the peculiar manners and customs of foreign countries in - contradistinction to our own. Lord Ormonde was much respected and - courted by the French nobility, to one of whom he paid a visit near - St. Germains, and on his departure, according to the well-known - English fashion of ‘vails’ or parting gifts, he presented the _maître - d’hôtel_ with ten pistoles, being the whole contents of his purse. - - Riding onward, as we may imagine rather disconsolately, the Marquis - was startled by the sound of wheels driving furiously; and, looking - back, perceived his late host’s coach gaining on him. He reined in his - steed, sprang from the saddle, and embraced his friend, who alighted - at the same moment. Lord Ormonde was surprised at a decided coldness - in the Frenchman’s manner and tone of voice, as he said, ‘After you - left the château, I heard a great disturbance among the servants of my - household, and, inquiring into the cause, found them all quarrelling - over their share of the money which your Lordship, for some - inexplicable motive, had given to my _maître d’hôtel_. I am come to - ask if you found any fault with your treatment in my house?’ - - ‘On the contrary,’ warmly responded Lord Ormonde. - - ‘Then why did you treat it as an inn? I pay my servants well to wait - on me and my guests. I do not know, my Lord, if this be the custom in - your country, but assuredly it is not so with us. Here are the ten - pistoles, which I have rescued from my servants’ grasp; you must - either take them back at my hands, or else your Lordship must give me - on the spot that satisfaction which no gentleman can refuse another.’ - - We may believe the affair turned into one of laughter rather than of - ‘honour,’ when Lord Ormonde explained that in his country such - amenities were invariably practised by guests at leave-taking. - - The King of England was now at Brussels, hampered and entangled by - fruitless negotiations with foreign powers, and he sent for his right - hand, Lord Ormonde. - - Short cuts are proverbially dangerous, and so thought the Marquis, - who, taking horse, rode from Paris, _via_ Lyons and Geneva, through - the Palatinate to Brussels, where he joined the King, who, failing in - his Spanish views, had formed an idea of marrying the daughter of - Frederic Henry, the Stadtholder. But the Dowager Princess of Orange, - who was very powerful at her son’s Court, opposed the design so - strongly that the match was prevented. - - Meanwhile Lord Ormonde’s eldest son, the Earl of Ossory, fell in love - with Emilia, daughter of Louis de Nassau, Lord of Auverquerque, a - natural son of Maurice, Prince of Orange. Louis was much esteemed, - both for character and position, and had considerable weight in the - Assembly of the States. At first he was persistent in his demands that - Lord Ormonde should come forward with good settlements, but, being - made to understand the state of Irish affairs, he was content to - accept what Lord Ossory’s mother (who could deny nothing to her - first-born) contrived to spare out of her hardly gained pittance. - Moreover, he found the young couple were devotedly attached, and that - Ossory had refused a more advantageous marriage with the daughter of - the Earl of Southampton, in consequence of his preference for Emilia; - and so the marriage was arranged, Lord Ormonde himself nothing loath - that his son’s happiness should be assured by a connection which he - hoped might also prove beneficial to the King’s interests. One of Lord - Ossory’s daughters married Auverquerque, Earl of Grantham, and their - daughter, Henrietta (eventually sole heiress to her grandfather), - married the second Lord Cowper. From this lady the present Earl lays - claim, not only to titles and estates, but to a lineal descent from - the illustrious patriot, William the Silent. - - Better times were in store, of however short duration. The Restoration - was at hand, and Ormonde, as may have been expected, was one of those - faithful friends whom the King ‘delighted to honour.’ He was made Lord - Steward of the Household, Duke of Ormonde in the peerage of Ireland, - Earl of Brecknock and Baron Lantony in that of England, and all his - estates, dignities, and privileges in the sister country of which he - had been deprived, restored to him, though, as far as emolument went, - some were scarcely more than nominal. He walked at the coronation as - Lord Steward, and carried St. Edward’s crown. The Viceroyalty of - Ireland, having been offered to and declined by the Duke of Albemarle, - was next proffered to the Duke of Ormonde, who undertook the thankless - task with eyes sharpened by long experience; and in so doing he - remarked to a friend: ‘Besides many other disadvantages, there are two - proper to me—one of the contending parties believing that I owe them - more kindness and protection than I find myself chargeable with, and - the other suspecting I entertain that prejudice to them from which I - am free. This temper will be attended undeniably in them with clamour - and scandal upon my most equal and wary deportment,’—a prophecy which - was too soon and too exactly fulfilled. The Lord-Lieutenant was - received with great pomp and splendour, and a sum of several thousands - voted to facilitate his acceptance of the dignity; but a year had not - elapsed before a deeply-laid plot was discovered to seize the Castle - of Dublin and the person of his Excellency; and though the principal - conspirators were arrested, and some executed, the arch-traitor Blood, - who was one of them, escaped, with a vow of vengeance in his heart - against the Duke, as will be seen hereafter. - - Once more in straits for troops for the King’s service, and money to - pay them, Ormonde wrote to the Duke of Albemarle, asking for five - hundred men, to which request he got the unsatisfactory reply, that - Monk himself had not that number in his whole army upon whose fidelity - he could rely. Ormonde, however, was not discouraged, as we shall see - by an extract from the author already quoted, speaking of all the - difficulties with which the Lord-Lieutenant had to contend. ‘He was - not less indefatigable and prudent than his enemies were - indefatigable, industrious, and artful, but turned his whole thoughts - to raising the distressed kingdom of Ireland, both in character and - circumstances. He gave the greatest encouragement to learning, - fostered trade, and revived the linen manufacture, which had been - founded by Lord Strafford.’ It seems strange that the Irish, who are - among the best and most skilful artificers of any nation, should - scarcely ever have persisted in any manufacture, among the many that - have been set on foot at different times, with the exception of this - branch, in which they have for so many years been paramount. The Duke - also advocated for Ireland the advantages of free trade to all foreign - nations, in peace and war; for no ingratitude on the part of his - countrymen ever induced Ormonde to neglect their interests in matters - ecclesiastical, civil, or military. Added to which, he made the most - liberal sacrifices of his own personal property to advance the - interests of the King and the country he ruled; yet notwithstanding, - he was made the mark for calumny and persecution, in England as well - as in Ireland, and the Duke of Buckingham hated and envied him, and - meditated an impeachment, while Lords Arlington and Shaftesbury were - most inimical to him, neither was he a favourite with the - Queen-Mother, in spite of all the services he had rendered her. - - Another formidable adversary was Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine, - afterwards Duchess of Cleveland, the rapacious mistress of Charles - II., who had given her the Lodge in Phœnix Park, Dublin. The - Lord-Lieutenant refused to confirm the grant, stopped the warrant, - declaring that it was the proper summer quarter for himself and his - successors in office. Barbara, as may be expected, never forgave this - interference. Meeting the Duke one day while he was in London, in the - precincts of the Court, she fell on him with abusive and insulting - words, and concluded by saying she devoutly wished she might live to - see him hanged. His Grace listened with a calm, imperturbable smile to - these ravings, and said he was not in such hot haste to put an end to - her Ladyship’s existence; he should be quite content to live long - enough to see her old and ugly. Neither did the faithful friendship - which existed between the Duke and the Earl of Clarendon, whose star - was now waning, redound to the worldly advantage of the former. - - He made more than one journey to England to give an account of his - stewardship to the King, as also to look after his own interests, well - knowing what numbers were plotting against him. Burnet, Pepys, Evelyn, - all pay their tribute to the Duke during his residence in London at - this time, when Charles, who esteemed him in his heart, was too weak - to uphold him against his arrogant favourite and his other slanderers. - Pepys says: ‘I do hear that my Lord of Ormonde shall not hold his - government of Ireland any longer, which shows the power of Buckingham - and the poor spirit of the King, and the little hold that any man can - have of him.’ Again: ‘This day I do hear that my Lord Ormonde is to be - declared in Council no more Lord-Deputy of Ireland; his time of - commission having expired, the King is prevailed with to take it out - of his hands, which people do mightily admire’ (how many meanings may - lie in the same word!), ‘saying he is the greatest subject of any - Prince in Christendom, and hath done more for his Prince than any ever - yet did, but he must down, it seems: the Duke of Buckingham carries - all before him;’ and so forth. But the machinations of his enemies - succeeded. Lord Robartes reigned in his stead, while the Duchess went - over to Dublin to break up the establishment, and received an ovation - from the people there. Oxford, of which University the Duke had been - made Chancellor, came forward to show him all the respect he deserved, - but no longer received, at the hands of the weak-spirited Charles, - whom he continued to serve so faithfully. Archbishop Sheldon, speaking - of the Duke’s firmness and temper, which he showed in the melancholy - occasion of his disfavour at Court, says it insured the admiration of - all bystanders beyond everything he had ever done before,—indeed it - was the most glorious part of his life. One of the principal causes of - the King’s coldness was the resolution Ormonde had formed, and from - which he never swerved: he would not truckle to those female harpies - who were ruining the King not only in his pocket, but in the - estimation of his people. So dignified was Ormonde’s demeanour that - Buckingham asked Charles, ‘Will your Majesty answer me one question: - Is it the Duke who is out of favour with the King, or the King with - the Duke? for, upon my word, it is your Majesty who looks most out of - countenance when you are together.’ - - People who were not cognisant of the real state of affairs at Court - would sometimes ask him to intercede for some favour, which caused him - to reply: ‘I have no longer the power to help, only to hurt.’ One day - Carey Dillon, afterwards Lord Roscommon, came and requested the Duke - to assist him with the King in some private affair, saying, ‘I have no - friends but God and yourself.’ ‘Alas!’ said Ormonde, ‘poor Carey, I - pity thee; thou couldst not have two friends who have less interest at - Court or less respect shown them there.’ - - The Prince of Orange being over in England, the Duke had been in - attendance on his Highness at a banquet given by the City of London, - and was returning to Clarendon House, where he then lived, in his - coach, which was so large that he had caused iron spikes to be placed - at the back, lest his footmen should get up, and make it too heavy for - the horses; so six of them walked by the side; but, in spite of this - escort, the coach was stopped by the notorious Blood and several - accomplices, who had been on the watch in St. James’s Street. They - dragged out the Duke, and placed him behind a horseman, tightly bound - by a rope, with orders that the prisoner should be conveyed to Tyburn, - while Blood galloped on in front to prepare the gallows, with his own - hands, for the execution of the man he detested. But Ormonde made a - stalwart resistance; he struggled so violently as to impede the - progress of the horseman, and at length, getting his foot under the - stirrup, upset his captor, and they both rolled off together on the - pavement. Meantime the coachman had hastened home, alarmed the - servants, with whom he tore off in pursuit, and by the light (not of - the stars of heaven, but) of the star which the Duke wore, and which - glittered in the flicker of the lamps, they found the struggling pair, - and, rescuing their beloved master, conveyed him home almost - senseless. It was naturally supposed that Blood would suffer condign - punishment; but to the surprise of all—saving, perhaps, the Duke of - Buckingham and the Duchess of Cleveland—the King not only pardoned - him, but gave him later on an estate in Ireland! It was currently - believed at Court that Buckingham had a hand in this attempt on - Ormonde’s life, and Lord Ossory taxed him with it one day at Court. - - ‘I give you warning,’ said the eager young man, ‘that if my father - comes to a violent death by the hand of a ruffian, or by secret way of - poison, I shall not be at a loss to know who is the author, but - consider you the assassin, and whenever I meet you will pistol you, - though it be behind the King’s chair. And I tell you this in his - Majesty’s presence, that you may know I will keep my word,’—a threat - which the blustering Duke seems to have found himself obliged to put - up with; at all events, it was said that when Blood was tried for - stealing the Regalia, he accused Buckingham on this count; and the - King, whose unreasonable clemency with respect to the villain has - always remained a mystery, sent to beg Ormonde’s forgiveness for - Blood. The Duke replied to the messenger: ‘If the King can forgive him - for stealing his crown, I may easily forgive him for attempting my - life.’ - - In order to be near his service at Court, the Duke had taken a house - near Windsor, and, being in great favour with the Queen and the - Duchess of York, was often summoned to play at basset with them. One - Sunday, the card-table being brought out, the Queen invited him to - play. - - ‘I hope your Majesty will excuse me,’ he said. - - ‘You surely can have no scruples,’ observed the Queen, not best - pleased; ‘nobody else has any.’ - - ‘I beg your Majesty’s pardon,’ was the reply; ‘Christian, and even - Jewish, laws, set apart one day in seven for the service of God, and - cessation from business.’ - - Undoubtedly at this Court card-playing was a business, and one in no - way profitable to the impoverished state of the Duke’s fortune. We do - not know if it were at Windsor or in London, but, after having been - slighted for so long by the King, Ormonde frequently asked leave to - retire from Court. He one day received the astounding intelligence - that his Majesty would sup with his Grace. The cause of this sudden - step was to announce the Royal intention of reinstating the Duke of - Ormonde in the viceregal power in Ireland, Charles being thereto - instigated, it was said, by the Duke of York, who feared the post - might be offered to the Duke of Monmouth. We are inclined to believe - that it was on this occasion that the Duchess prepared so sumptuous a - repast as to call forth a lengthened description in Carte’s life of - her husband: ‘If she had a fault, ‘twas the height of her spirit, - which put her upon doing everything in a magnificent manner, without - regard for expense.’ Bent on giving his Majesty a noble entertainment, - the Duchess consulted her steward, who expostulated, as in duty bound, - and counselled greater economy; but her Grace drew herself up, and - observed with much dignity: ‘You must allow me to be a better judge of - what is fitting for my own sphere;’ and so the banquet cost over - £2000!—if we may trust the biographer so often quoted. The Duke, who - loved her dearly, never interfered with her financial arrangements, - though he must often have had reason to regret them. - - He was once betrayed into a melancholy jest on this subject. The - Duchess had built Dunmore Castle for her jointure-house, at a large - cost, and one day, as the Duke was walking with a friend on the leads - of Kilkenny Castle, which commanded a fine view of the surrounding - country, the new castle and grounds forming a conspicuous object in - the landscape,—‘Your Grace,’ observed his companion, smiling, ‘has - done a great deal here; but yonder you have _done more_.’ - - ‘Alas!’ replied the Duke, ‘my wife has done so much, that she has - undone me.’ - - The history of his return to power was but a repetition of all that - had gone before. Fresh plots against his authority and his life, fresh - outbreaks of religious strife between Catholics and Protestants, - continued undermining of his interests in England; but no public - trouble could be compared with the crushing sorrow occasioned by the - death of his eldest son, Lord Ossory, in the prime of life, in the - zenith of his reputation. We have no space to enlarge on the merits of - this noble son of a noble father; he has been immortalised in the - pages of that father’s faithful friend, Lord Clarendon. Suffice it to - say, that all England and Ireland sympathised with the afflicted - parents. The Duchess appears never to have entirely rallied, for - though her death did not occur till some years later, her health began - to fail, and she went over to Bath for the benefit of the waters. In - 1684, of fever and weakness, this most remarkable woman, the ‘best - helpmate man ever was blessed with,’ died, at the age of sixty-nine, - having married when only fourteen. - - Her guardian, Lord Holland, had so far neglected her education, that - she had never even learned to write, but she taught herself by copying - print, which was the reason her letters were never joined together. In - appearance she was tall and well made, but not a beauty; an excellent - capacity for business, good sense and judgment, and, as we have said - before, an undaunted spirit, which fitted her for all the vicissitudes - of her eventful life. Irreproachable in her own conduct, she avoided - the society of the King’s favourites, and ‘would never wait on the - Duchess of Cleveland,’ who was her enemy in consequence. The Duchess - of Portsmouth would take no denial, and when the Ormondes lived near - Windsor would always be calling, and once she sent word she was coming - to dine. The Duchess, on receiving this semi-royal intimation, - despatched her granddaughters, who were staying with her, to London, - and when ‘La Quérouaille’ arrived she found no one to sit with her at - table, with the exception of the Duke and Duchess, and their domestic - chaplain; whereas, when the Duke of York married Lady Anne Hyde, and - few were found to pay her court, the Duchess of Ormonde waited on the - bride, and, kneeling, kissed her hand, as to a Princess of the blood. - Queen Catherine esteemed the Duchess of Ormonde highly, none the less, - doubtless, for the slights she put upon ‘The Castlemaine,’ and made - her a present of her own and the King’s portraits, set in large - diamonds, which their Majesties had exchanged at the Royal marriage. - This jewel was given by the Duke to his grandson’s wife, Lady Mary - Somerset, who was compelled to sell it for subsistence at the - Revolution, when her husband’s estates passed away from him. - - The Duke was in England when his wife died, and was inconsolable; - ‘indeed, when alone at night, he was almost distracted.’ The only - solace he found was in constant work, and he hurried over to Dublin to - resume his duties; in the meantime, Charles II., who had lately made - him an English Duke, was besieged, as before, with applications once - more to deprive his faithful servant of the Lord-Lieutenancy. For a - while he stood firm, saying he had one of his kingdoms in good hands, - and was resolved to keep it so; and another time, being asked by my - Lord Arlington if the report were true that the Duke was to be - recalled, his Majesty replied with much anger, ‘It is a damned lie!’ - But no one could trust in the steadfastness of the ‘Merry Monarch.’ - Ormonde’s enemy, Colonel Talbot, made a report on Irish affairs, which - Charles took hold of as a plea for the Duke’s recall. Sir Robert - Southwell wrote to Dublin to give him warning of the King’s decision. - - ‘They begin early,’ was the reply, ‘to find fault with my conduct, - before I am warm in my post here, or my head recovered from the - agitation of the sea.’ - - Charles II. died suddenly, but James lost no time in carrying out his - brother’s intention; Ormonde was superseded by Lord Clarendon, the - King’s father-in-law, and he had in turn to make way for Ormonde’s - bitter enemy, Colonel Talbot, who, in 1687, was made Earl of - Tyrconnell and Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. His Majesty paid the Duke - the scanty compliment of asking him to remain in his post at Court, - which he did, and again carried the Crown at the Coronation. - - In February 1686 he went to stay a while at Cornbury, a beautifully - situated forest lodge in Oxfordshire, lent him by his friend, Lord - Clarendon, whence he waited on the King at Bristol; and, being - afterwards laid up with gout and rheumatism at Badminton, James - visited him twice in person, and condescended to request him to - continue his place at Court, though unable to attend. The Duke then - proceeded to Kingston Hall, a country house he had hired in - Dorsetshire, where he died. - - The constant society of his faithful friends, Sir Robert Southwell, - and the Bishop of Worcester, who had been his domestic chaplain, - cheered his last days, and he took much delight in seeing little Lord - Thurles, his great-grandson, playing about the room, or in taking the - child on his knee to caress him. One day, appearing more than usually - downcast, he was asked the reason. ‘This is the anniversary of the - saddest day of my life,’ replied the Duke,—‘the day on which I lost my - beloved wife.’ - - He had always been of a religious turn of mind, never entering on any - new duty, or assuming any responsibility, without writing for himself - special prayers to be used on the occasion. He attended family prayers - twice a day up to the very last, received the Sacrament, selecting his - fellow-communicants, and took a tender leave of his servants, thanking - them for their fidelity, and regretting he had nothing to leave them, - beyond a recommendation in his will to his successor. His attendants - were lifting him from one side of the bed to the other when his noble - spirit passed away, gently, silently, without a groan or struggle. - - He had eight sons, all of whom he survived, and two daughters: of his - sons, five died very young, and one under peculiar (we are tempted to - say national) circumstances. The boy was taking an airing in the - Phœnix Park, when the horses took fright and ran away, and the _Irish_ - nurse, anxious to save the life of her little charge, flung him - headlong from the window! - - In appearance the first Duke of Ormonde was tall, well-shaped, and - inclined to _embonpoint_; his complexion was fair, which gained for - him the nickname among the Irish of Bawn. He was plain, but elegant, - in his dress, especially at Court, when people began to be slovenly; - he wore his hat without a button, uncocked, as it came from the block, - after the fashion of his Majesty. But he was given to pomp on state - occasions; the service of the Viceregal Court was simply - splendid,—numbers of coaches, horses, and retainers. In travelling he - always carried his staff of office with him, and when they came to a - town, his gentleman (bareheaded) bore it through the streets, before - his Grace’s coach. He used often to revert in after days to an - incident which might well ‘point a moral’ on the danger of that - offence, so frequently considered venial,—a white lie. One time, when - Lord Ormonde was in France, it was deemed necessary he should go over - suddenly and secretly to Ireland for the King’s service, and he - accordingly embarked in a small boat, on a stormy day. ‘The master - came up to his noble passenger during the voyage, and inquired the - hour, and Lord Ormonde, being very anxious to make as quick a passage - as possible, told the man an hour later than the real time. The - consequence was, that the skipper miscalculated the time of the tide - and the boat was wrecked, split in two on the rocks, and Lord Ormonde - had to take to the cock-boat, and, finally, to be carried ashore on - the shoulders of the seamen. There was no help at hand, for the good - people of Havre were all at church, it being a festival. Thus, in - consequence of a white lie, told with an excellent motive, the whole - crew were nearly drowned, and the delay so great as to endanger the - success of the undertaking in which Lord Ormonde was engaged. - - We will end a notice, which has had little that is cheerful or - exhilarating in its pages, with a repartee which the Duke made to a - friend of the family, one Mr. Cottington, who lived near Dublin, and - had a pretty house on the sea-shore. The Duke’s third son, Lord - Gowran, a most genial and popular member of society, who had given his - father much anxiety on account of the laxity of his morals, had - presented Mr. Cottington with a set of the Ten Commandments to place - over the altar in his new chapel at his marine villa. Much delighted, - and doubtless edified, by so appropriate a donation, Mr. Cottington - expressed his gratification to the Duke, who thus answered him: ‘I - think I can guess at the nature of my son’s generosity; he can easily - part with things he does not intend to keep!’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - PORTRAIT. UNKNOWN. - - _Black velvet suit. Battle-axe and armour beside him. His hand rests - on a table. Landscape in background._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 10._ - - DUTCH LADY. UNKNOWN. - - _Black dress. White ruff and cap. Standing by a table, on which - she rests her hand._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - MARY TUDOR, QUEEN OF ENGLAND. - - _Dress of white and gold brocade. Dark bodice. Small ruff. Her hands - are clasped._ - - BORN 1516, SUCCEEDED 1553, DIED 1558. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 12._ - - CARDINAL TRENTO. - - _In Cardinal’s robes. Sitting in an arm-chair._ - - BORN 1728, DIED 1784. - - BY TINTORETTO. - - - HIEROME Trento came of a noble family in Padua, and, at the age of - eighteen, entered the Order of the Jesuits at Bologna. He was zealous - and pious in his calling, and unambitious by nature, although he - attained to the honours of the Cardinalate. He died in the performance - of his duty, while concluding one of the Lent services in the church - of San Leone, at Venice. His posthumous works, treating of religion - and morality, were published almost immediately after his death. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 13._ - - LOUVE VAN WALTA. - - - He married the daughter of Jarich van Botnia, who was ancestor to Lady - Henrietta Auverquerque, daughter of the Earl of Grantham, and first - wife to the second Earl Cowper. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - NORTH LIBRARY. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - NORTH LIBRARY. - - ------- - - _No. 1._ - - THE HONOURABLE PENISTON, WILLIAM, AND FREDERIC LAMB, THREE SONS OF THE - FIRST VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _In a garden, the eldest in dark satin coat and velvet breeches. His - arm round the youngest child, who is standing on a boulder in a - white frock. He is also supported by the second brother, dressed - in a light-coloured suit. A hat and feathers lying on the ground._ - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - THIS picture was painted for Lord Melbourne, to whom it did not give - satisfaction, and he returned it to Sir Joshua. It was engraved by the - title of ‘The Affectionate Brothers.’ Peter Leopold, fifth Lord - Cowper, bought it from the painter’s executors for £800. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 2._ - - PORTRAIT. UNKNOWN. - - _Black suit._ - - BY BOL. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 3._ - - A LADY IN THE DRESS OF THE REIGN OF HENRY VIII. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 4._ - - PORTRAIT. UNKNOWN. - - _In armour._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 5._ - - RAPHAEL MENGS. - - _Greenish coat. Red collar. Own hair._ - - BORN 1728, DIED 1779. - - BY HIMSELF. - - - BORN at Aussig, in Bohemia, the second son of Ismael Mengs, a native - of Copenhagen, miniature painter to Augustus the Strong, King of - Poland. Ismael brought up his boys as painters; he gave them, when - quite children, nothing but pencils for playthings, keeping them at - work sometimes for sixteen hours a day. After a while the eldest son - rebelled against this close application, and made his escape from - home, taking refuge with the Jesuits at Prague; but Raphael inherited - his father’s love of art, and laboured diligently. - - In 1740 Ismael took him to Rome, where the same rigid course of study - was enforced; the youth was constantly locked up in the Vatican with - his work cut out for him,—to copy Raphael, Michael Angelo, or the - antique the whole day long, with a loaf of bread and a pitcher of - water. On the days passed at home, the father kept his son a prisoner - in the same manner, and would go out for hours on his own concerns, - with the key of the room in his pocket. These early lessons of - industry and application bore ample fruit in the future life of this - indefatigable painter. Returning to Dresden, the young man’s miniature - copies of Raphael, and some excellent portraits in pastel, pleased - King Augustus so much that he appointed Raphael Mengs his - Painter-in-Ordinary, with a considerable salary. To his Majesty’s - surprise, and the great displeasure of Count Brühl, Raphael declined, - on the plea that he was too young for such a post. Rome had great - attractions for him, and thither he returned. He painted a ‘Holy - Family,’ which gained him much credit, the original of Our Lady being - a beautiful girl, Margaret Guazzi by name, the child of poor parents, - and as good as she was beautiful. The young painter became a proselyte - to the Roman Catholic faith, and married his lovely model, nor had - ever cause to repent his choice. He remained at Rome several years, - painting assiduously, and studying in the Hospital of San Spirito; it - was in obedience to his father’s wishes that he returned to Dresden, - with much regret, and was obliged by so doing to forfeit many - advantageous commissions. Old Ismael, whose nature was violent and - cruel, repaid his son’s devotion by turning him, his wife, and infant - child into the streets on some trifling disagreement. The story came - to the King’s ears, and he once more offered the rejected post to - young Mengs, with an increased salary, a house, and carriage. This - time the Royal bounty was accepted with gratitude, for Raphael was now - a husband and a father. The King was at that time employed in building - the Catholic church at Dresden, where the Royal Family still carry on - their separate worship,—it being one of the few (is it not the only?) - capitals where the Court and the subjects profess a different creed. - Raphael Mengs painted the lateral altars, and had a commission for the - high altar-piece; but the longing was upon him, in no way singular, to - return to Rome, and he pleaded that he would execute the order far - better in Italy. He repaired thither, and, after making a copy of the - school of Athens for the Earl of Northumberland, he began his - altar-piece for Dresden. ‘The Seven Years’ War now broke out, and - Augustus was deprived of his electorate, and found himself unable to - continue Mengs’s salary. The failure of this income, added to his own - improvidence, plunged our artist into poverty; he was obliged to take - any orders that offered, and accept any terms proposed, in order to - keep the wolf from the door. The fresco which he executed for the - monks in the Church of Sant’ Eusebio brought him little pay indeed, - but great increase of popularity. He did not carry out a commission he - had received from King Augustus to go to Naples and paint the Royal - Family, supposing the order to be cancelled; but the Duke of Censano, - Neapolitan Minister to the Papacy, urged him to fulfil it, and wrote - to Naples, specifying the prices which the now popular painter had - received in Saxony. Just as he was starting for Naples, rumours were - set afloat which troubled Mengs exceedingly; he was assured that a - picture which had been ordered for the Chapel-Royal at Caserta was not - required, and that the King and Queen declined to sit to him on - account of his prices being reckoned exorbitant. He was perplexed how - to act, when the arrival of the Polish Minister from Naples set his - mind at rest. Count Lagnasco assured him that the altar-piece for - Caserta was daily expected, and that the King and Queen had never - demurred at the prices, but were only displeased at the delay. He - therefore hastened to Naples, but, on his arrival, found the King and - Queen on the eve of embarkation for their new kingdom of Spain, and - too much engrossed by their preparations to give him sittings. They, - however, commanded a portrait of their son Ferdinand, about to ascend - the vacant throne of Naples. The jealousy of his brother artists made - the fair city insupportable to Mengs, and he again took his way to - Rome, where he was very popular, and had plenty of work. He adorned - the beautiful Villa Albani with classical frescoes, and painted - numerous pictures, chiefly for English and Neapolitan patrons. Charles - III., King of Spain, hearing him highly spoken of, now proposed to - Raphael Mengs to enter his service, with a large salary, a house, and - carriage, and all materials for painting provided; also a free passage - for himself and family on a Spanish vessel sailing from Naples. - - Mengs accepted, and was kindly received by the King, but soon found he - had to encounter the bitter hatred of all the artists in the Spanish - capital. Giaquinto, an Italian, who had hitherto enjoyed the Royal - favour, was so disgusted at the success of Mengs, that he abandoned - the field, and, leaving Spain in dudgeon, returned to his own country. - Mengs was now employed in the decoration of the new palace, and - painted the Gods of Olympus in the bedchamber of the King, Aurora in - that of the Queen, and Morning, Noon, Evening, and Night in the - apartments of the Infanta, besides numerous easel pictures. - - He was also appointed honorary member of the Academy of St. Ferdinand, - where, being desirous of instituting new regulations and bringing - about reforms, he provoked much ill-will, and being himself of a hot - and hasty temper, bickerings and disagreements ensued without number. - Altogether, Raphael Mengs was far from happy during his sojourn at - Madrid; the climate was most injurious to his health, which declined - daily, yet he never slackened in his toil, but worked unremittingly - from dawn till dusk, and often far into the night. He had already - despatched his wife and family to Rome, and now asked permission to - join them. Suffering and melancholy, he proceeded on his solitary way, - and was delayed some time at Monaco by increased illness; at length he - arrived in his beloved Rome, where the affection of his dear ones and - the warmth of the climate partially revived him. He now turned his - attention chiefly to sacred subjects, and in loving memory of his - favourite Notte di Coreggio in the Dresden Gallery, executed a - Nativity on the same plan, where all the light emanated from the Holy - Child; introducing his own portrait as one of the adoring shepherds. - Pope Clement XIV. gave Mengs a labour of love to perform, and in that - light he considered it, for he stipulated that he should receive no - payment: this was to decorate the walls of the hall destined for the - reception of the papyrus rolls in the Vatican. To work beneath the - same roof which his illustrious namesake had sanctified, was indeed a - glory! - - Although enfeebled in health, Mengs was comparatively content, both in - the matter of his residence and his work; but he received a warning - from Madrid that his leave of absence had been too long exceeded, and - it required all the kind intercession of Don Joseph de Azara, Spanish - Envoy at Rome, and Mengs’s great friend, to intercede with the King on - this score. At last there was a compromise, Mengs agreeing to go to - Naples to paint the portraits of the reigning King and Queen for the - gallery at Madrid. But his industry seemed on this occasion to forsake - him; when in Naples he was very dilatory over his commission, and - spent his time in buying coins and vases to add to his collection; and - on his return to Rome he had only finished the heads. Then he had to - conclude his work in the Vatican, and take leave of the Pope, who gave - him a rosary of lapis-lazuli and a set of medals struck during his - Pontificate. So little was Mengs in haste to reach Spain that he - stopped by the way at Florence to paint the Grand Duke and Duchess, - with many other portraits. - - He arrived at Madrid, and recommenced his labours in the palace, to - the great satisfaction of King Charles; went to Aranjuez, where he - worked both in the palaces and the churches; but relapsed into bad - health, and became so ill that the kind-hearted monarch would no - longer detain him, and sent him back to Rome,—‘with,’ says Sir William - Stirling, ‘a stipend far beyond his requirements, and a fame far - beyond his merits.’ Charles also settled dowries on the daughters of - Raphael Mengs; but alas! he had not been long at home before his good - and beautiful wife died; and he strove to console himself by working - harder than ever. - - The winter was unusually severe, his studio was overheated, and the - bad air increased his malady. His frame became emaciated, and his - features so ghastly as to attract the notice of every one. One of his - pictures, purchased by an Englishman, met with a strange fate: - despatched to England by sea, the vessel was taken by a French - cruiser, and the picture sent to Paris. Eventually Louis XVI. sent it - as a present to the Empress Catherine of Russia. - - In spite of the expostulations of his children, Mengs now put himself - into the hands of a German quack, and, to follow his directions - without opposition, took a lodging by himself, first in Via Condotti, - and then in the Gregoriana. - - A nun at Narni had lately gained great popularity by selling a - decoction of holy jessamines, by which she worked miraculous cures. To - a strong dose of this medicine the quack doctor added a still more - efficacious dose of antimony, and thus indeed relieved the poor - painter from all further suffering, physical or mental. He worked to - the last, and died in June 1779, being buried at San Michele, on the - Janiculan Hill, followed by the Professors of the Academy of St. Luke. - Don Joseph de Azara, knowing his friend’s tastes, erected a cenotaph - to his memory, adorned with a bronze portrait, close to the monument - of his illustrious namesake and idol, the divine Raphael. By nature - Mengs was choleric and melancholy, more prone to be ruffled by the - petty ills of life than satisfied by his success, which is generally - allowed to have been far above his deserts. He was self-willed even to - arrogance in his opinions. Finding fault with some Venetian pictures - Pope Clement had bought, his Holiness remarked they had been much - admired by other artists. ‘Ah,’ replied Mengs, ‘they praise what is - above their powers; I despise what is below mine.’ - - He was severe on other Art writers, and especially on the works of Sir - Joshua Reynolds; Azara said he was very truthful, and tells how on one - occasion Mengs declared he had never taken a pinch of snuff, though in - so doing he would have redeemed a collection of valuable snuff-boxes, - the presents of many grandees, from the clutches of the Custom-House - officers, who seized them as merchandise. Yet he practised a hoax on - his friend Winckelman, and allowed him to publish in his book the - description of a ‘Ganymede’ by Mengs, which the painter had passed off - on the Professor as an antique. He was a faithful and affectionate - husband, a tender and loving father, and gave his children a good - education,—but little beside, for, with all the riches he had - acquired, he was both extravagant and improvident, and at his death he - only left his collections of coins and casts, bequeathed to the King - of Spain, and a number of engravings, which were bought by the Empress - of Russia. Mengs’s eldest daughter, Anna Maria, was a successful - portrait-painter; married to Manuel Salvador Camoni, a member of the - Academy of San Fernando, she died at Madrid in 1798. He would not - allow his sons to become painters, ‘for,’ said he, ‘if they were - inferior to me, I should despise them; if superior, I should be - jealous of them.’ One of his sons became a soldier in the service of - Spain. Mengs wrote much on the subject of Art, had great command of - language, and was a good linguist. - - This picture was painted expressly for the third Earl Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 6._ - - CHARLES JAMES FOX. - - _Dark coat. White cravat._ - - BY HOPPNER. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 7._ - - FATHER OF JAMES NORTHCOTE THE PAINTER. - - _Dark coat. White hair. Red curtain._ - - BY HIS SON. - - - NOTWITHSTANDING that he exercised the modest trade of a watchmaker in - his native town of Plymouth, Northcote boasted of a long pedigree, and - maintained that his family was of very good standing in the county. - But his pride did not prevent his wishing his son James to follow the - same trade, while the young man had set his heart on being a painter. - In the notice of the future Royal Academician’s life, we shall find - every particular connected with James’s rise to eminence. Among his - numerous works, he painted the portrait in question of the father who - had done all in his power to thwart his son’s artistic proclivities. - - This picture was bought at Northcote’s sale by the fifth Earl Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 8._ - - SARAH, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. - - _Red gown, bordered with white fur._ - - BORN 1658, DIED 1744. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - THE youngest daughter of Richard Jennings, Esq. of Sundridge, near St. - Albans, by the daughter and heir of Sir Gifford Hornhurst. When quite - young she went to Court, where her sister Frances (afterwards Lady - Tyrconnell) was already remarkable, as much for the laxity of her - conduct as for her beauty. Sarah’s features may not have been as - regular as those of her sister, but her countenance was most - expressive, her complexion beautiful, and the profusion of her fair - hair, formed a most attractive combination. Amidst her crowd of - adorers, the young, handsome, and insinuating Colonel Churchill stood - pre-eminent; he was poor, and by many accused of avarice already, yet - he preferred the portionless girl to a rich heiress with a plain face, - when the match was suggested to him. - - Sarah Jennings was a woman of inordinate ambition and iron will, and - she made use of her close friendship with the Princess (afterwards - Queen) Anne to rise in the world and push her husband’s fortunes, even - before his own distinguished talents had insured his eminence. The - tyranny which the high-spirited, hot-tempered Lady of the Bedchamber - exercised over her Royal mistress for many years are matters too well - known to be here recapitulated. The romantic correspondence between - ‘Mrs. Morley’ and ‘Mrs. Freeman,’ showing the manner in which Queen - Anne, even after her marriage, gave herself up to the dominion of her - favourite, until the self-imposed yoke became intolerable, and was - suddenly and completely severed, are historical facts bound up with - public events. The Duchess of Marlborough was supplanted by her own - _protégée_, Mrs. Masham, and peremptorily dismissed, in spite of - ‘rages, prayers, and scenes.’ Voltaire says: ‘Quelques paires de gants - qu’elle refusa à la Reine, un verre d’eau qu’elle laissa tomber sur la - robe de Madame Masham, changèrent la face de Europe!’—alluding to the - political changes which followed the downfall of Sarah. In her latter - days her temper became ungovernable; she quarrelled with her husband, - her son-in-law, her grandchildren; and on one occasion, when the Duke, - wishing to pacify her rage, complimented her on her long fair hair, - which was still luxuriant, the furious lady cut it off, and flung it - in her husband’s face! At his death a long coil of golden tresses was - found in the Duke’s drawer. Sarah survived her husband twenty years, - and, in spite of her age (it must be remembered she was very rich), - had many suitors, amongst them the Duke of Somerset and Lord - Coningsby. To the latter, after reminding him she was sixty-three, she - replied: ‘Were I only thirty, and you could lay the world at my feet, - I would never bestow on you the heart and hand which belonged - exclusively to John, Duke of Marlborough.’ - - Lady Cowper (the Chancellor’s wife) saw a great deal of the Duchess at - Court; they exchanged constant visits, and corresponded, but Lady - Cowper had no opinion of her Grace; she describes her trying to make - mischief by repeating ill-natured speeches, and goes on to say: ‘She - is certainly an ill woman, and does not care what she says of anybody, - to wreak her malice or revenge.’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 9._ - - CHARLOTTE, COUNTESS FAUCONBERG. - - _Peeress’s robes._ - - - SHE was the only daughter of Sir Matthew Lamb, and sister to Peniston, - first Viscount Melbourne. Married in 1766 Henry Belasyse, second Earl - Fauconberg, a Lord of the Bedchamber, and Lord-Lieutenant of the North - Riding of Yorkshire. They had four daughters, co-heiresses; but the - title is extinct. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 10._ - - PORTRAIT. UNKNOWN. - - _Man in blue velvet coat, braided._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 11._ - - UNCERTAIN. - - _Dark coat. White cravat._ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 12._ - - ROBERT HARLEY, EARL OF OXFORD. - - _Black and gold dress._ - - BORN 1661, DIED 1724. - - - STUDIED under the famous Dr. Birch (who boasted of the number of - statesmen he had educated), and showed great promise. In 1688 he - raised a troop of horse for the service of William of Orange, whom he - joined, but who showed him no particular favour. Harley sat in - Parliament, but waited for office till 1704, when Queen Anne gave him - a seat in the Council, and made him Secretary of State. He was much - opposed to Godolphin and Marlborough, and made common cause with the - Queen’s new favourite, Mrs. Masham, to overthrow the power of the - Whigs. - - The Ministers insisted on his dismissal, but Anne stood by him as long - as she could; when Harley was compelled to resign, the Queen said to - him: ‘You see the unfortunate condition of monarchs,—they are obliged - to give up their friends to please their enemies;’ but so high was - Anne’s opinion of Harley, that she constantly consulted him on public - affairs, when out of office. - - On the downfall of the Whig Administration, he was made Chancellor of - the Exchequer, and Treasurer. - - He was much censured, even by his own party, for some of his financial - measures, by which, however, he enriched the Royal coffers. In March - 1711, an event happened that made a great noise, and rendered Harley - the hero of the day. A French adventurer, called Bourlie, or the - Marquis de Guiscard and Langalleve, was a shifty individual, who acted - first as a spy of England against France, and then of France against - England, being in the pay of both. His intrigues were discovered, and - he was brought before the Privy Council. Believing that Harley had - been instrumental in his detection, he resolved to be revenged. While - waiting his turn for examination, he found means to secrete about his - person a penknife which was lying on the table, among some papers. No - sooner was he brought forward than he rushed in a fury upon Harley, - and stabbed him several times, the Minister falling senseless on the - ground, covered with blood. A scene of confusion ensued, and the Duke - of Buckingham, drawing his sword, wounded the assassin, who was - conveyed to Newgate, where he died in a few days, either from the - effect of the sword-thrusts, or by his own hand. - - The event seemed to have revived Harley’s popularity: both Houses - presented an address to the Queen, assuring her that Harley’s loyalty - had brought this attack upon him, etc. etc., and when he reappeared in - the House, a brilliant reception awaited him; and a Bill was passed - making an attempt on the life of a Privy Councillor a felony which - deprived the offender of benefit of clergy. In the same year, Robert - Harley, being then Lord High Treasurer, was created Baron Wigmore, and - Earl of Oxford and Mortimer, and next year he received the Garter, and - became Prime Minister of England. - - Lords Oxford and Bolingbroke at first worked together to withstand the - power of the Opposition, and to bring about the pacification of - Europe; and the Peace of Utrecht added to the popularity of the - ministerial party. But dissensions arose between Bolingbroke and the - Premier, and recriminations and fresh intrigues, in which Mrs. Masham - was implicated, all of which belong to England’s political history. - - Oxford was deprived of all his offices, and accused of plotting in - favour of the Pretender. The Queen died, and in 1715 he was sent to - the Tower, on an accusation of high treason. He was imprisoned for two - years, and on his release gave himself up to the enjoyment of art and - literature; he formed a magnificent library, which cost him a fortune, - not only from the splendour of the works themselves, but on account of - their sumptuous binding. His collection of MSS., called after him the - Harleian MSS., which was afterwards greatly increased by his son, is - now one of the glories of the British Museum; it was purchased by the - Government after the second Lord Oxford’s death. - - Few men have been more eulogised on the one hand, and reviled on the - other, but he has been unanimously described as a kind patron of men - of letters. - - It was Harley who brought into operation the measure known to - posterity as ‘The South Sea Bubble,’ which entailed ruin on numbers; - and in spite of much opposition he also established State lotteries. - - Lord Oxford was twice married: first to Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas - Foley, of Whitley Court, county Worcester, by whom he had one son and - two daughters; and secondly, to Sarah, daughter of Thomas Myddleton, - Esq., who was childless. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 13._ - - FIELD-MARSHAL HENRY OF NASSAU, LORD OF AUVERQUERQUE. - - Father of the first Earl of Grantham, grandfather of - Henrietta, wife to the second Earl Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 14._ - - LADY ANNE COLLETON. - - _Blue gown, trimmed with white lace._ - - DIED 1740. - - BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. - - - SHE was the second daughter of the first Earl Cowper, by his second - wife, Mary Clavering. She married, in 1731, James Colleton, Esq. of - Haynes Hill, county Berks, grandson of Sir James Colleton, Bart. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 15._ - - LADY MILBANKE. - - _White gown. Holding a pink scarf._ - - - She was the daughter and heir of John Hedworth, Esq., M.P., wife of - Sir Ralph Milbanke, of Halnaby, M.P., and mother of the first - Viscountess Melbourne. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 16._ - - ELIZABETH, WIFE OF THE FIRST VISCOUNT MELBOURNE. - - _Light-coloured gown. White veil. Scarf. Coaxing her baby, who is - seated on a cradle beside her._ - - DIED 1818. - - BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. - - - She was the only daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke, of Halnaby Hall, - county York. In 1769 she married Sir Peniston Lamb, Bart., M.P., who - was created Viscount Melbourne in 1770. She was a beautiful young - woman of twenty when she first went to London, and took the town by - storm. She was as much admired for her vivacity as her beauty, and Sir - Joshua Reynolds speaks of her as figuring at one of the fashionable - masquerades of the day in domino and tricorne hat, as ‘a pretty - fellow’ or maccaroni, with the Duchess of Ancaster and Lady Fordyce, - and a charming portrait, in possession of Lord Southampton, represents - her in this costume. Lady Melbourne persuaded her husband to buy a - house in Piccadilly from Mr. Fox (father of Charles James), who had - been a friend of Sir Matthew Lamb, next door to Burlington House, - which cost a large sum. Lady Melbourne called it after her husband’s - title, and took the greatest delight in furnishing and adorning the - interior, on which work she employed Cipriani, Wheatley, the humorous - designer Rebecca, and all the best decorative artists of the day. The - society was as brilliant as the walls which encircled them; and - Royalty, fashion, beauty, and talent flocked to the receptions at - Melbourne House, whose master, bent on pleasing his beautiful wife, - threw open his gates with lavish hospitality. Sir Joshua was an - intimate, as well as a general guest, and thus had many opportunities - of studying the form and features which he afterwards immortalised in - the picture that heads this notice. It was painted in 1770, just after - Sir Peniston Lamb’s elevation to the peerage and the birth of his - eldest son. - - No sooner was the London house completed, than Lady Melbourne turned - her attention to the embellishment of her husband’s country seat in - Hertfordshire, where, in company with her chosen friend, Mrs. Damer - (alike charming as a woman and an artist), she planned and arranged - the internal decorations of Brocket Hall. Wheatley was again called - in, and, with the assistance of Mortimer, painted the ceilings with - allegorical subjects. The two ladies were also much addicted to the - pastime of private theatricals, as was their mutual friend, the - beautiful Duchess of Devonshire; while such names as Sheridan, Fox, - Horace Walpole, and other celebrities, figured as actors and authors - in Lady Melbourne’s company. It was here, doubtless, that Lord - Egremont (then a youth) imbibed that love of art, and that taste for - the society of artists, which made him so noble and munificent a - patron, to the end of a long life. He was a great friend of the - Melbournes, and loved to see his ‘three young lambs’ gambolling over - the greensward in his spacious park at Petworth. - - Lady Melbourne was very popular with the Royal Family, and one day the - Duke of York called on her, and in the course of conversation became - very enthusiastic in his admiration of Melbourne House. He confessed - he was weary of his own at Whitehall, and would gladly move into her - neighbourhood. The lady laughed, and said, for her part, she often - wished to exchange the chimes of St. James’s Church for those of - Westminster Abbey; and they talked on, half jestingly, half in - earnest, till the possibility of an exchange of residence was mooted. - It appeared strange, but perhaps the amateur house-decorator was lured - by the prospect of new walls to beautify, fresh fields to conquer. - Before the Duke took his leave, he had gained her Ladyship’s promise - to discuss the subject with her husband: ‘For you know, dear Lady - Melbourne, you always have your way with everybody, especially with my - Lord.’ - - His Royal Highness was right: if Lord Melbourne raised any objection - at first, it was soon overcome; the consent of the Crown was gained, - the bargain was struck, the house at Whitehall became Melbourne House, - and the residence in Piccadilly, York House, afterwards changed to the - Albany, where, in the oldest portion and principal apartments of that - paradise of bachelors, the decorations of Cipriani and his colleagues - may still be admired. - - All contemporary writers speak of Lady Melbourne as a leader of - fashion and an ornament of society; Horace Walpole, in particular, - alludes to her frequently, ‘in wonderful good looks,’ at the Prince of - Wales’s birthday ball at Carlton House, and again at the French - Ambassador’s, where it was so hot he was nearly stewed, but ‘the - quadrilles were surprisingly pretty, especially that one in which Lady - Melbourne, Lady Sefton, and Princess Czartorisky figured, in blue - satin and gold, with collars mounted _à la reine Elizabeth_. - - In 1805 her eldest son died; but the mother seems to have been - consoled by the promise of future greatness shown by her second son, - William, who early evinced a taste for public life, which harmonised - with Lady Melbourne’s views. She took a great interest in political - affairs, was a staunch Whig, and at the time of Charles Fox’s famous - election, she displayed as much zeal and enthusiasm as her rival - beauty, the Duchess of Devonshire. William Lamb’s marriage with the - daughter of Lord Bessborough, which enlarged his connection with all - the principal Whig families, was a source of great pleasure to Lady - Melbourne. It was a pity, with her political predilections, she did - not survive to see her favourite son and her daughter’s second husband - each rise to the coveted position of Prime Minister of England. - - We have no authority for stating in what light Lady Melbourne viewed - her daughter-in-law’s infatuation for Lord Byron; but we know, from - his own letters, that he entertained a great admiration for herself. - He had never met with so charming a woman. ‘If she had only been some - years younger, what a fool she would have made of me!’ With her he - kept up unvarying friendly relations during all the vicissitudes of - his love and hate passages with Lady Caroline. One day he called on - Lady Melbourne, and asked her advice and sympathy. She was a model - confidante, and had once given it as her opinion, that few men could - be trusted with their neighbours’ secrets, and scarcely any woman with - her own. Byron assured her he was wearied with his way of life, that - he wished to marry and reform, and settle down at Newstead, and asked - if she would assist him in his choice of a wife. Lady Melbourne - smiled, and said she thought she knew of the very woman to suit - him—her near kinswoman, Miss Milbanke, daughter of Sir Noel Milbanke, - heiress to a large fortune, and a peerage in her own right, as Lady - Wentworth,—no great beauty, but not uncomely, well brought up, well - educated, and amiable. Byron was quite satisfied, but, as may be - expected, when Lady Caroline heard of it, she was furious. ‘The girl - has a bad figure, is given to statistics, and goes regularly to - church,—a pretty wife for a poet!’ The lady refused the man, of whose - moral character she had heard a sorry account; but he persisted, and - the marriage took place in 1816,—an ill-fated union, as might have - been expected, a fact but too well known. Lady Melbourne’s health - began to fail; she drooped gradually, till one day the sentence was - pronounced in her hearing—she had but a short time to live. She heard - the announcement with calmness, took an affectionate leave of those - she loved, and addressed some parting admonitions to her beloved - William, which he never forgot. Lady Melbourne died on the 6th April - 1818, at Whitehall, and was buried at Hatfield Church. Her son - Frederick was absent from England at the time. - - This portrait was brought from Brocket, where it once hung at the end - of the ball-room. It was engraved by the title of ‘Maternal - Affection.’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 17._ - - LADY CAROLINE LAMB. - - _White gown. Blue bows. Crop of fair hair._ - - BORN 1788, DIED 1828. - - BY HOPPNER. - - - SHE was the only daughter of the first Earl of Bessborough, by Lady - Henrietta Spencer, daughter of the first Earl Spencer. She was in - Italy when a child, with her mother, but, on their return to England, - Lady Bessborough being in very delicate health, Lady Caroline was - intrusted for a time to the care of her aunt, the beautiful Duchess of - Devonshire. Throughout her life she kept a diary, and she gives a - detailed record of her early days at Devonshire House. The children - saw very little of their elders, and were brought up with a strange - mixture of luxury and laxity. The nursery table was covered with - dainties, and served with goodly plate, but the young lords and ladies - were allowed to run wild backwards and forwards between the servants’ - apartments in search of sweetmeats and ‘goodies.’ Caroline’s education - was little cared for, her knowledge circumscribed, and she only - believed in two classes of society,—aristocrats and beggars. At ten - years old she could scarcely write, and could not spell at all; but - she composed verses, ‘which were pronounced splendid in the family, - and everybody petted me, especially my cousin Hartington (afterwards - Duke of Devonshire), who was my constant companion. My chief delight - consisted in polishing my specimens of Derbyshire spar, washing my - dog, and breaking in a pony.’ Caroline was transferred from Devonshire - to Spencer House, to live with her grandmother, and the change did not - suit her small ladyship. ‘How well I remember the grand housekeeper, - in a hoop and ruffles, who presided over seventy servants.’ Under Lady - Spencer’s roof, of whom the poet Cowper speaks so highly, and to whom - Horace Walpole, with his usual sneer, alludes as ‘the goddess of - wisdom,’ it may be imagined the girl was subjected to a discipline - which was so different from the liberty of Devonshire House that she - soon broke out into open rebellion. ‘I was indeed very naughty, and - used to give way to such paroxysms of rage that a physician was called - in. Dr. Warren forbade all study, and desired that my brain should lie - fallow. I believe he feared for my reason. I was very fond of music, - and cried when I had to give it up. My governess was too severe, my - relations too indulgent.’ It was not until Lady Caroline was fifteen - that she tried to make up for lost time. As regarded her education, - she showed great aptitude for languages,—French, Italian, Latin, ‘and - I had even mastered enough Greek to enable me to enjoy a classical - play, when taken to speech-day at Harrow, where my brother was at - school.’ She could recite an ode of Sappho to admiring listeners at - Devonshire or Spencer House, and was much praised and petted. She - piqued herself on her unconventionality, and would plunge into - intimacy, or manifest her aversion in the most unequivocal manner. - Among the frequent guests at Spencer House was William Lamb, the - second son of Lord Melbourne. It would seem strange that the vigilance - of the young lady’s relations should not have been awakened by the - growing intimacy between her and the captivating younger son. Well - bred, well born, with a ringing laugh and an inexpressible charm, - which never forsook him in advanced life amid the turmoil of politics, - William Lamb had everything to recommend him but a birthright,—and had - it not been settled in the family that Caroline was to make a - brilliant marriage? Lady Caroline, who loved to record her own - adventures, writes to her friend and confidante, Lady Morgan, not very - long before her death, recalling her past life: ‘I fell in love, when - only twelve years old, with a friend of Charles Fox,—a friend of - liberty, whose poems I had read, whose self I had never seen, and, - when I did see him, at thirteen, could I change? I was more attached - than ever. William Lamb was beautiful, and far the cleverest person - then about, the most daring in his opinions, in his love of liberty - and independence. He thought of me but as a child; yet he liked me - much. Afterwards he wished to marry me, and I refused him because of - my temper.’ In another letter she says: ‘I was a fury. He asked me a - second time, and this time he was not refused, for I adored him.’ The - lady’s relations were reconciled to the match, possibly influenced in - some slight degree by the consideration that William Lamb had become - heir to a large fortune and a peerage, in consequence of the death of - his elder brother. - - Marriages never come single in a family. Lamb’s sister Emily was - already engaged, and in the year 1805, within a month of each other, - the brother was united to Lady Caroline Ponsonby, and the sister to - Lord Cowper. Mr. Lamb and his wife passed the early days of their - married life between Brocket (Lord Melbourne’s) and Panshanger (Lord - Cowper’s) Houses in Hertfordshire; and when the London season began, - Lady Caroline contributed not a little to the former attractions of - Melbourne House, where she and her husband took up their abode. - Society was at variance as to the bride’s merits; her eccentricities - amused many of the guests, and affronted others,—for some people are - indignant when merely called upon to stare at what is said to them. - The Prince of Wales, an _habitué_ of Melbourne House, was one of those - who encouraged Lady Caroline in her wayward and wilful moods; her - startling speeches, her flighty coquetry, her sudden quarrels, and as - sudden reconciliations, whether with her husband or any other member - of the community, were a great source of amusement to his Royal - Highness. Miss Berry speaks of meeting the Prince at Lady Caroline - Lamb’s in the year 1808. She says in her Diary: ‘It was an immense - assembly. We came away at half-past twelve, and had to walk beyond the - Admiralty to our carriage. Many of the company did not leave till past - three; the Prince of Wales had supped below, in Lady Melbourne’s - apartments, and remained till past six. Sheridan was there, and quite - drunk.’ It would appear by these remarks that Lady Melbourne had - vacated a suite of apartments in favour of her daughter-in-law, who - received on her own account, as in another passage in Miss Berry’s - correspondence there is mention, ‘I am going to Lady Caroline Lamb’s - to-night. She gives a party, to be convenient for hearing what is - going on, about this famous motion in the House of Peers.’ But Lady - Caroline was of too romantic a turn of mind to be absorbed by - politics; she had always some small flirtation on hand, and her - admirers were frequently under age. We read in the Life of the late - Lord Lytton some very early passages between him and this mature - object of his adoration,—assignations entered into, notes passing - clandestinely, engagements to dance broken off and renewed with - playful inconstancy. Excitement, even on so small a scale, seemed - necessary to the lady’s existence; she would have been bored to death - without it. The novelist admired his goddess enough to put her in - print, and describes the compassion she displayed one day, when, - finding a beggar who had met with an accident, she insisted on his - being lifted, rags and all, into the carriage beside her, when she - drove the cripple to his destination. - - But a luminary was about to appear on the horizon, which was destined - to eclipse all lesser lights. Here is her own account of her first - acquaintance with Lord Byron: ‘Rogers, who was one of my adorers, and - extolled me up to the skies, said to me one evening, “You must know - the new poet.” He offered to lend me the proofs of _Childe Harold_ to - read. That was enough for me. Rogers said, “He has a club foot, and - bites his nails.” I said, “If he were as ugly as Æsop I must know - him.” Lady Westmoreland had met Byron in Italy; she undertook to - present him. I looked earnestly at him, and turned on my - heel,’—conduct which the poet afterwards reproached her with. London - had gone mad about him. All the ladies were pulling caps for him. He - said once ostentatiously: ‘The women positively suffocate me.’ That - night the entry in Lady Caroline’s Diary was—‘Mad, bad, and dangerous - to know.’ She declared at first she had no intention of attracting - him, but she confesses how she had come in from riding one windy, - rainy day, all muddy and dishevelled, and had been conversing with - Moore and Rogers in that plight, when Byron was announced, and she - flew out of the room to beautify herself. ‘Lord Byron wished to come - and see me at eight o’clock, when I was alone. That was my - dinner-hour. I said he might. From that moment, for many months, he - almost lived at Melbourne House.’ - - Lord Hartington, Lady Caroline’s favourite cousin, expressed a wish to - have some dancing of an evening at Whitehall, as his stepmother (Lady - Elizabeth Foster) objected to anything of the kind at Devonshire - House, and accordingly for a time the drawing-room at Melbourne House - was turned into a ball-room. But as Lord Byron’s lameness cut him off - from the quadrilles and waltzes, this arrangement did not suit him, - and his word being law with Lady Caroline, the dancing was soon - discontinued. It was a strange flirtation between the poet and the - poetaster. The lady would lie awake half the night composing verses, - which she would repeat the next day to the great man, in the fond hope - of a few crumbs of praise, a commodity of which Byron was very - sparing, he being a great deal more taken up with giving utterance to - his own effusions. Lady Caroline was often mortified, Lord Byron often - wearied,—at least so it would appear. Lord Holland came up to them one - evening as they were sitting side by side as usual, with a silver - censer in his hand. ‘I am come,’ he said, ‘Lady Caroline, to offer you - your due.’ ‘By no means,’ she returned in a tone of pique; ‘pray give - it all to Lord Byron. He is so accustomed to incense that he cannot - exist without it.’ - - A recent biography describes the situation well when it says: ‘He grew - moody, and she fretful, when their mutual egotisms jarred.’ William - Lamb’s wife was certainly not formed to make home happy. One day she - extolled his generosity and lack of jealousy; another, she accused him - of apathy and indifference with regard to her flirtations. Her conduct - was marked by alternate tenderness and ill-temper: there could be no - doubt of her affection for her invalid boy, yet her treatment of him - was spasmodic and fitful,—now devoted, now neglectful. More than once - a separation had been agreed upon, and Mr. Lamb had even gone so far - as to forbid his wife the house, and believed she was gone. He went to - his own room, locked himself in, and sat brooding over his troubles. - It was growing late, when he was attracted by the well-known sound of - scratching at the door, and he rose to let in his favourite dog. But - lo! the intruder was no other than his wife, who, crouching on the - floor, had made use of this stratagem to gain admittance. Half - indignant, half amused, he did not long resist the glamour which this - eccentric woman knew how to throw around him. Peace was restored for a - short time, but not for long; another explosion, a violent domestic - quarrel, occurred one night in London. Lady Caroline went out, called - a hackney coach, and in her evening dress—a white muslin frock, blue - sash, and diamond necklace—drove to the house of a physician, whom she - scarcely knew. She describes with great unction the surprise and - admiration of the assembled guests, ‘who took me for a child, and were - surprised at my fine jewels.’ - - It was her cherished vanity to be taken for a young unmarried girl. - Her relations were much alarmed at her disappearance. Lady Spencer - sent to Lord Byron’s house, who disclaimed all knowledge of the - truant. After creating a great excitement in the good doctor’s - drawing-room, the lady returned home, to enjoy another scene and - another reconciliation. Her mother, Lady Bessborough, who was in very - delicate health, was deeply concerned at her daughter’s conduct, the - conjugal quarrels, and the intimacy with Lord Byron, which was so much - talked of in the world. ‘Poor dear mamma was miserable; she prevailed - on me at length to go to Ireland with her and papa.’ On their - departure, Lord Byron wrote to his dearest Caroline a most peculiar - letter, abounding, indeed, in high-flown protestations, assuring her - he was hers only, hers entirely; that he would with pleasure give up - everything for her, both here and beyond the grave; that he was ready - to fly with her, when and whenever she might appoint, etc.; at the - same time reminding her of her duty to her husband and her mother—a - most wonderful mixture of false sentiment and shallow feeling, which - could only have deceived one so blinded as the recipient. ‘Byron - continued to write to me while I was in Ireland. His letters were - tender and amusing. We had arrived at Dublin, on our way home, when my - mother brought me a letter from him,—such a letter!—I have published - it in _Glenarvon_. It was sealed with a coronet, but neither the - coronet nor the initials were his; they were Lady Oxford’s.’ Lady - Caroline was beside herself with rage and jealousy; she fell ill. They - were detained at ‘a horrid little inn’ at Rock. She arrived in England - in the most excited frame of mind. Byron complains of her proceedings, - which were of a most melodramatic nature; she went to see him, dressed - as a page; she vowed she would stab herself, and wished some one would - kill him;—‘in short,’ says the poet, ‘the Agnus is furious; you can - have no idea what things she says and does, ever since the time that I - (really from the best motives) withdrew my homage. She actually writes - me letters threatening my life.’ We have no reference at hand to note - when these lines were written, but we believe after his marriage:— - - ‘They’ll tell thee, Clara, I have seemed - Of late another’s charms to woo, - Nor sighed nor frowned as if I deemed - That thou wert vanished from my view. - Clara, this struggle to undo - What thou hast done too well for me, - This mask before the babbling crowd, - _This treachery, is truth to thee_,’— - - a peculiar and ambiguous form of reasoning, by which it appeared Lady - Caroline was not convinced. - - Byron’s well-known stanzas, ‘Farewell! if ever fondest prayer,’ were - said to have been addressed to Lady Caroline when he left England for - ever, having quarrelled with his wife as well as with his friend. The - poem was not calculated to conciliate the lady, and it was not long - before she heard from a third person that Byron had spoken slightingly - of her to Madame de Staël and others. She accordingly sat down, and - wrote him a long account of the childish revenge she had taken, by - burning his effigy in a bonfire, with her own hands. - - In her Diary she gives a touching account of her useless endeavours to - pique or persuade her poor boy into cheerfulness, and how, when he saw - her look of disappointment, he would come and sit beside her, take her - hand, and look wistfully into her face. She had consulted many - physicians, she said, and now she would consult a _metaphysician_. - Some time ago she had met Godwin, the author, and taken one of her - sudden fancies for him. She now sat down and asked him to come and pay - her a visit at Brocket; she wished to have some conversation with him - about her son, and indeed about her own unsettled and discontented - state of mind. ‘When I saw you last under painful circumstances, you - said it rested with myself to be happy. I fear you can only think of - me with contempt. My mind is overpowered with trifles. Would you - dislike paying me a little visit? I hold out no allurements; if you - come, it can only be from friendship. I have no longer the excuse of - youth and inexperience for being foolish, yet I remain so. I want a - few wise words of advice. No one is more sensible of kindness from a - person of high intellect. I have such an over-abundance of activity, - and nothing to do. I feel as if I had lived five hundred years, and am - neither better nor worse than when I began. I conduce to no one’s - happiness; on the contrary, I am in the way of many. All my beliefs - and opinions are shaken as with small shocks of moral earthquake; it - is as if I were in a boat without chart or compass.’ Surely she was - not wise in her selection of a navigator. - - Godwin obeyed the summons, but, as might have been expected, brought - no consolation in his train. Lady Caroline would often in her - correspondence eulogise her husband in very high terms, and call him - her guardian angel, and there is no doubt she was proud of him; but - his very forbearance and good-humour were often a source of - irritation, and she would upbraid him with treating her as a child, - though, in reality, nothing flattered her more than to be so - considered, and in some of her early caricatures (for she often amused - herself in that way) she represents herself carried about in Mr. - Lamb’s arms as a little girl. Her father-in-law, easy-going as he was, - blamed her for her extravagance, and called her ‘her _laviship_.’ - ‘Indeed I think I am a good housewife,’ she writes to Lady Morgan, - ‘and have saved William money; but he says, “What is the use of saving - with one hand if you scatter with the other?” What is the use—that is - what I am always saying—what is the use of existing at all?’ - - This unwholesome excitement tended to increase the natural - irascibility of her character. In her Diary she records petty quarrels - with her servants and other inmates of the house. She at length took - to authorship as a consolation, and gives an odd account of the manner - in which her literary labours were carried on. She had a companion, - who began by acting as her amanuensis, but after a time she decided on - having an expert copyist. Even so commonplace an arrangement must be - carried out in a melodramatic manner. She wrote the book, unknown to - all, except to Miss Welsh, in the middle of the night. ‘I sent for old - Woodhead to Melbourne House. I dressed Miss Welsh elegantly, and - placed her at my harp, while I sat at the writing-table, disguised in - the page’s clothes. The copyist naturally took Miss Welsh for Lady - Caroline, and expressed his astonishment that a schoolboy of that age - (I looked about fourteen) could be the author of _Glenarvon_. Next - time he came I received him in my own clothes, and told him William - Ormond, the young author, was dead. When the book was finished, I sent - it to ‘William, who was delighted.’ (Query.) _Glenarvon_ disappointed - the public, not so much on account of its literary shortcomings, which - might have been anticipated, but from its lack of sufficient allusions - to the separation of Lord and Lady Byron, though there was no scarcity - of abuse of the hero. The story was too feeble and vapid to cause much - sensation, yet the authoress found publishers willing to accept - further works from the same pen, and _Graham Hamilton_ and _Ada Reis_ - followed. - - Lord Byron, writing from Venice, speaking of _Glenarvon_, says: ‘I - have seen nothing of the book but the motto from my “Corsair”:— - - “He left a name to all succeeding times - Linked with one virtue and a thousand crimes.” - - If such be the posy, what must the ring be?—the generous moment - selected for the publication! I have not a guess at the contents.’ A - little while after, Madame de Staël lent him the book, when he went to - see her at Coppet. ‘It seems to me that if the author had told the - truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, the romance would - not only have been more romantic, but more interesting. The likeness - is not good; _I did not sit long enough_.’ - - Besides her novels, Lady Caroline sent contributions to Annuals and - Magazines, breathing eternal love and dire remorse:— - - “Weep for what thou’st lost, love, - Weep for what thou’st won, - Weep for what thou didst not do, - And more for what thou’st done.” - - She often amused herself by setting her own compositions to music very - prettily. - - We are not told in what manner Lady Caroline received the tidings of - Byron’s death, but we have a detailed account of her driving one - summer’s day on the Great North Road, not far from Brocket, in an open - carriage, accompanied by her husband, when, at a turn in the road, - they came upon a long and melancholy procession. It proved to be the - funeral of a peer, from the fact that the hearse was preceded by a - horseman bearing a coronet on a cushion. The lady stopped her carriage - and asked the question whose funeral it was. ‘We are taking Lord Byron - to Newstead to be buried,’ was the reply. The shock was terrible. Lady - Caroline reached home, more dead than alive, and fell into a species - of trance, from which the waking was slow and tedious. She would sit - for hours with her hands clasped on her lap, silent and listless; and - it was long before she could be prevailed on to resume her usual - occupations, or busy herself with her books, music, or drawing. When - the invalid was a little better, change of air and scene was - prescribed, and she was sent abroad. She wrote from Paris to Lady - Morgan, asking her to look in a cabinet, in a certain room at - Melbourne House, where she would find a miniature[5] of Lord Byron: - ‘Pray send it me without delay.’ Coming back to England, she again - took up her abode at Brocket, where her husband often visited her, - although his official and Parliamentary duties were a sufficient - reason for his residing mostly in London. When he went over to Ireland - as Chief Secretary, he kept up a regular correspondence with his wife - (now a confirmed invalid), and with those to whose care she was - consigned. In Dublin he was a frequent visitor at the house of Lady - Morgan, who was much attached to Lady Caroline, to give her news of - his wife’s health, or show her some of the letters he received from - Brocket,—such, for instance, as, ‘My dearest William,—Since I wrote - last I have been a great sufferer. Tapping is a dreadful sensation, it - turns me so deadly cold and sick.... But everybody is so good to me. - All the members of both our families, Emily, and Caroline have been to - see me, and the whole county has called to inquire. My dear brother, - too, has been with me, and is coming again. He reads to me, which is - so soothing; but what pleased me most of all was your dear letter, in - which you said you loved me and forgave me.’ - -Footnote 5: - - Lady Caroline Lamb bequeathed this portrait to Lady Morgan, at whose - death it was sold by auction. - - In proportion as her bodily health failed, so did the sufferer become - more and more gentle, patient, and grateful for kindness. The evil - spirit had been cast out. She grew so much worse that it was deemed - advisable to remove her to London for the benefit of medical advice. - On the 26th of January 1828, Lady Morgan received a letter from Mr. - William Ponsonby (afterwards Lord De Mauley), to announce his sister’s - death. ‘From the beginning of her illness,’ he says, ‘she had no - expectation of recovery, and only felt anxious to live long enough to - see Mr. Lamb once again. In this she was gratified, and was still able - to converse with him, and enjoy his society. But for the past three - days it was apparent that her strength was rapidly declining, and on - Sunday night, at about nine o’clock, she expired without a struggle. A - kinder or more tender heart never ceased to beat, and it was a great - consolation to her and to us that her mind was fully prepared and - reconciled to the awful change. She viewed the near approach of death - with calmness, and during her long and severe sufferings her patience - never forsook her, or her affectionate consideration for those around - her. Mr. Lamb has felt and acted as I knew he would on this sad - occasion.’ - - The friendship of the brothers-in-law had never been interrupted. - Although fully prepared for a great change in his wife’s appearance, - William Lamb was more shocked than he expected to be. The short time - that intervened between his return and her death was marked by - tenderness on his part and affection on hers; and in after years the - widower always spoke of ‘Caroline’ with gentleness and forbearance. - - Lady Morgan thus describes her friend’s appearance: ‘A slight tall - figure, dark lustrous eyes, with fair hair and complexion; a charming - voice, sweet, low, caressing, which exercised a wonderful influence - over most people. She was eloquent also, but had only one - subject—herself. She was the slave of imagination and of impulse.’ - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 18._ - - NATHANIEL CLIFFORD. - - _Brown coat. White cravat._ - - - He was a man of letters, a friend of Lord Chancellor Cowper. - - - ------------------ - - - _No. 19._ - - THREE BROTHERS OF THE HOUSE OF NASSAU. - - _Two in armour. One in a velvet coat._ - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - SMOKING-ROOM. - - ------- - - THE WITCHES ROUND THE CAULDRON. - - BEING PORTRAITS OF LADY MELBOURNE, THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE, AND MRS. - DAWSON DAMER. - - BY ANNE SEYMOUR DAWSON DAMER. - - - IN the notice of Lady Melbourne we have alluded to that lady’s taste - for private theatricals, _tableaux vivants_, and other dramatic - entertainments, and to the merry meetings on those festive occasions. - This sketch is an interesting record of one such. Lady Melbourne knew - where to select talent and beauty: the Duchess of Devonshire, daughter - of the first Earl Spencer, by Georgina, daughter of Stephen Poyntz, - Esq. of Midgham, near Newbury, was a beauty, a wit, and, above all, a - politician. A tribute was once paid to her charms, to our mind, better - worth remembering than the widespread story, so often told, so often - delineated, in the caricatures of the day, of how her Grace bartered a - kiss to a butcher, in exchange for his vote in favour of the fair - Whig’s political idol, Charles James Fox. The anecdote to which we - give the preference is as follows: One day, when proceeding to the - poll, the crowd was so dense, and the mob pressed so heavily against - the coach panels, that her Grace, usually so fearless, became alarmed, - and, stretching out her fair head, she requested a rough and shabby - member of the community to keep back a little, and induce the others - to do the same. The man, an undoubted Irishman, stared at the charming - vision for a moment, with his short pipe suspended between his - fingers, and then burst forth, ‘God bless yer, and that I shall, and - anything else in life, so as I may light my pipe at your eyes.’ - - Lady Melbourne was also a beauty, as her many portraits show, without - the testimony of posthumous fame, and her features were decidedly more - regular than those of her captivating friend. Mrs. Damer was also much - admired, and in such circumstances we can easily imagine what prettily - turned compliments were paid, what flattering contrasts drawn, between - these three bewitching witches, who met, and met again, not on a - ‘blasted heath,’ but in the sylvan shades of Brocket, and the midnight - hags whom Shakespeare drew, ‘so wizen, and so wild in their attire’! - - The artist, Anne Seymour, was the daughter of the Hon. Hugh Seymour - Conway, brother of the Marquis of Hertford. She married, in 1767, the - Hon. John Damer, eldest son of the first Lord Milton. The union was - far from happy, and in 1776 the eccentric and restless-minded husband - shot himself. Mrs. Damer, who had no children to engross her time and - thoughts, now gave herself up to the study and enjoyment of art, for - which purpose she travelled in Italy, France, and Spain, mastering the - languages of the countries through which she passed; and, benefiting - by the treasures of painting and sculpture which they afforded her, - she became a proficient with her brush and her chisel, and executed - many admirable works, too numerous to be mentioned, being a frequent - exhibitor at the Royal Academy. In politics Mrs. Damer emulated her - friends, Lady Melbourne and the Duchess of Devonshire, being a staunch - Whig, while on the boards of Brocket and White Hall she displayed much - talent as an actress. When her cousin and friend, Lord Orford, died, - he bequeathed Strawberry Hill to her, with a handsome annual sum for - its maintenance, and there she lived for some years. In 1828 she died - at her house in Upper Brook Street, and, by her own desire, was buried - at Sundridge. Her sculptor’s tools and apron, together with the ashes - of a favourite dog, were placed with her in her coffin. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - PICTURES NOT PLACED. - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PICTURES NOT PLACED. - - ------- - - - PENSIONARY JOHN DE WITT. - - _Black velvet gown. Long hair._ - - - ------------------ - - - ADMIRAL CORNELIUS DE WITT. - - _Leather jerkin. Own hair. Holds a truncheon. One arm akimbo._ - - - JOHN DE WITT was born at Dort in 1625. He was educated in the Latin - School of Dort, was at Leyden for four years with his brother - Cornelius, two years older than himself, travelled with him in France - and England, and in 1648 went to study law and mathematics at the - Hague. - - It may be as well to begin by briefly depicting the political - situation of the Dutch Provinces at this period. - - They had for some time been divided into two parties. One was headed - by the Prince of Orange, composed of the old nobility and of the lower - orders both in town and country, and supported by the bulk of the - clergy. The other consisted mainly of the higher classes in the large - towns. The differences between the two parties were numerous, but may - chiefly be described as having reference to War, Trade, and Religion. - The House of Orange, by the line it had taken at a critical moment - against Philip II., by the indomitable constancy of its Princes, and - by their vast political and military talents, had been the principal - instrument of the liberation of the Netherlands from the dominion of - Spain; but their enemies accused them of continuing the war for the - sake of their own aggrandisement much longer than was necessary, and - of thus squandering the resources and weakening the energies of the - State. They complained of the heavy burdens laid upon commerce, and of - the losses sustained by the mercantile interest, owing to the insecure - condition of the seas. As to religion, the wealthier burgesses - belonged for the most part to the Arminian, or what we may perhaps - call the Broad Church party, and were ardently in favour of - toleration, while their opponents leaned strongly for support upon the - rigid and persecuting Calvinists. In addition to the causes of - disagreement which I have mentioned, was the conflict between the - authority of the Union, on the one hand, and, on the other, the - individual rights of each particular Province. These provincial rights - were more especially insisted upon by those who opposed the House of - Orange in the Province of Holland itself, for they complained that - though Holland paid more towards sustaining the public burdens than - all the other Provinces put together, she was constantly outvoted and - overruled on the most important subjects of public policy. - - This is as full an account as our limits will permit of the subjects - of dispute between the party of the House of Orange and the - Opposition. The Opposition, we must bear in mind, derived its chief - strength from the rich merchants and the magistrates of the large - towns. These magistrates were elected by close corporations, and were - chosen in each town, generation after generation, from a small number - of select families. It was to one of the most considerable of these - families in the town of Dort that John de Witt belonged; he had thus - the advantages and the disadvantages of having his political party - already decided for him by the accident of his birth, and the less - doubtful good fortune of finding an open access to public life. - - It was while De Witt was studying at the Hague that the struggle - between the two parties in the State was brought to a crisis. Peace - had at last been made with Spain; but it was expected that the young - Prince of Orange, William II., who had just succeeded to his father, - would soon break it. Fearing this, the Provincial Government of - Holland, which was in the hands of the burgess oligarchy, refused to - pay its share of the expenses of the troops, and directed certain - numbers to be disbanded. The Prince obtained an order from the - States-General of the United Provinces to go with a deputation to the - different towns of Holland and forbid the local authorities from - obeying the directions of the Provincial Government. At Dort, which - was the first place he visited, he was thwarted by Jacob de Witt, - John’s father, ex-burgomaster, and one of the principal men in the - town. On returning to the Hague, he summoned Jacob de Witt and five or - six others of the leading deputies, and put them in prison. Meanwhile, - he attempted to seize Amsterdam. The attempt failed; but the - municipality of that city, in order to avert a civil war, agreed to - abandon all further opposition to the Prince, who was now - all-powerful; but at the moment of his triumph he fell ill of the - small-pox and died. His only son was not born till a week afterwards. - - The rich middle-class oligarchical party now found itself raised by - fortune from complete prostration to the supreme direction of affairs. - Whether they could maintain their position might well have been - doubted. They had many difficulties to contend with; they had against - them the large circle of personal adherents of the House of Orange, - all the distinguished soldiers, many of the distinguished admirals, - the ancient nobility, and the mass of the common people. They were few - in number, and none of them had yet shown any particular ability. It - is in circumstances like these that the appearance of a remarkable man - affects the current of history. Such a man appeared at this moment in - John de Witt, who had just received his first official appointment as - Pensionary of Dort. Born, as we have seen, in the very centre of the - faction which was now dominant, he obtained at once, and without an - effort, their full confidence. On the other hand, his just and - impartial nature, conspicuous from the very first, the consummate - ability which he gradually developed, and, above all, his commanding - resolution, raised and sustained the weak party to which he belonged. - His influence extended far beyond its narrow circle, and his name is - associated with one of the most prosperous times in the history of his - country. - - It was not, however, for some years that De Witt filled more than a - subordinate position. Meanwhile the new Government proved itself both - feeble and unfortunate. It was compelled by the fundamental principles - of the party to push provincial independence to an extreme that almost - disintegrated the Union. The office of Captain-General, which had - largely contributed towards holding the Union together, was abolished, - for it would assuredly have fallen into the hands of the House of - Orange. The provincial office of Stadtholder remained vacant for the - same reason. Business had never been rapidly conducted by the Dutch; - but now it could hardly be conducted at all. The first result of this - state of things was drifting into a war with England, against the - wishes and interests of both nations, particularly of the Dutch. Nor - was the war carried on in a manner creditable to the authorities at - home. The ships were ill-fitted and ill-provisioned, the instructions - were confused, and nothing but the genius and conduct of the admirals, - Van Tromp and De Ruyter, saved the country from overwhelming - calamities. In spite of the most desperate fighting that ever took - place at sea, and of some brilliant victories by the Dutch, they were - overmatched, blockaded, and very nearly reduced to starvation. The - ablest men in the country had for some time seen the folly of the war - and the necessity for putting an end to it. But the breakdown in the - machinery of government, which made it difficult to carry on the war - with vigour, made it almost impossible to conclude a peace. It was now - that De Witt, appointed Grand-Pensionary of Holland, began to play a - leading part. On the one hand, he commenced building a new fleet of - larger and better ships; on the other, he started negotiations with - Cromwell, at this time Lord Protector of England. The difficulties in - his way, both in prosecuting the war and in making peace, were almost - inconceivable. He had no actual power in his hands; nothing but moral - influence. Every measure had to be debated in each of the Assemblies - of the Seven Provinces. It was then brought before the States-General, - whose members had no authority to decide any new point without - referring it back to their constituents; even when the States-General - had come to a decision, there was no means of binding the dissentient - minority. It is an under-statement of the case to say that no - diplomacy ever exercised throughout Europe by Cardinal Richelieu, by - William III. of England, by Metternich, or by Talleyrand, was vaster - or more intricate than that required by De Witt to bring about the end - he had in view. His difficulties were the greater that the bulk of the - nation thoroughly detested the new Government. The Orange party among - the lower classes were almost as violent now as they became later in - 1672, and De Witt went about in danger of his life. At last, by - incredible exertion and dogged resolution, joined with admirable tact - and temper, by impenetrable secrecy, and, it must be confessed, by a - certain amount of duplicity, he attained his objects. The new fleet - was begun, and shortly afterwards peace was concluded on better terms - than might have been expected. - - Still greater duplicity was shown in carrying out a secret agreement - whereby the State of Holland bound itself to exclude for ever any - members of the House of Orange from the office of Stadtholder. Was - this really forced upon De Witt by Cromwell? Was his own judgment - warped by prejudice? Or was it one of those sacrifices to the passions - of a party, which, in a time of excitement, are occasionally demanded - even from the most upright Minister? It was accomplished in a most - discreditable manner; the storm it raised when it became known shook - the Seven Provinces to their very foundation. Its immediate effect, - when that storm subsided, was to confirm the power of the class which - held the reins of Government; but the measure was pregnant with future - mischief. - - By the tact and tenacity shown in these proceedings, De Witt had - raised himself to so high a position that he never again had quite the - same herculean labours to go through in carrying out his measures; - but, in order to judge his abilities fairly, we must always remember - that on every occasion when it was necessary to act, obstacles - somewhat of a similar nature had to be overcome. - - A cordial understanding with England lasted till the Restoration in - 1660, far more cordial, indeed, than with France. - - Up to this time, almost from the commencement of its existence, it had - been the policy of the Dutch Republic to maintain an alliance with - France. But the French had come to consider this alliance so necessary - to the Republic that they had felt themselves able to treat their - allies in a most supercilious manner. Their armed ships had for some - time been in the habit of seizing and plundering Dutch merchantmen. It - had been impossible to obtain redress till, in 1657, Admiral de Ruyter - had orders from his Government to make reprisals, and took two of the - King’s ships. A French envoy was sent to demand satisfaction. A - rupture seemed imminent, but matters were smoothed over, and the - United Provinces came out of the difficulty without loss of credit. - - In the meantime much alarm had been created in Holland by the ambition - of Charles Gustavus of Sweden, who had engaged in a successful war - with Poland, and afterwards attacked Denmark. Denmark was in alliance - with the United Provinces, and, moreover, it was necessary for the - trade of Holland in the Baltic, which was very considerable, that the - balance of power in the North should be preserved. After many - negotiations, and an abortive attempt to make a treaty with Sweden, - the Dutch assisted Denmark with a powerful fleet and a small body of - troops. They had an obstinate naval engagement, by which Copenhagen - was saved, and in the following year they destroyed some of the - largest of the Swedish men-of-war, which they succeeded in surprising - and outnumbering. Charles Gustavus died suddenly, and peace was soon - afterwards made. - - A desultory war had all this time been going on with Portugal, in - order to obtain compensation for losses sustained by the Dutch in - Brazil, which does not come within our limits to describe. This war - was chiefly carried on in the East Indies, where the Dutch conquered - the rich island of Ceylon. Peace was finally made with Portugal in - 1661, Portugal paying a heavy indemnity for the Brazil losses. - - In all these matters De Witt had become more and more the principal - mover. As to home affairs, his reputation, and the power which was - derived from it, were not confined to his own province of Holland, for - we find him about this period chosen by the nobility, first of - Friesland, and then of Overyssel, to settle their internal disputes. - - The office of Grand-Pensionary was a five years’ appointment. It had - been renewed to De Witt in 1658, and in 1663 it had become such a - matter of course that he should fill it, that even his opponents gave - a tacit consent to his remaining. Having proved himself necessary, it - was impossible that he should not continue to hold the most honourable - place in the Government. Not that his place as Grand-Pensionary gave - him any real power. I have already remarked, and it is important to - bear in mind, that by the strange system now prevailing, no official - whatever possessed more than a moral influence. Whenever anything of - importance was to be done, some person was appointed for that - particular purpose, and this person was now almost always either De - Witt or his brother, generally the former. For instance, there was at - this time a dispute between the Prince of East Friesland and his - subjects, which threatened to be serious. John de Witt was at once - appointed to go at the head of a deputation to mediate between the - contending parties. I need hardly add that his mediation was at once - successful; and there was soon to be a still greater scope for the - display of his abilities, as a war with England was impending. - - Charles II. was now on the throne of England, and there was a natural - antagonism between him, as uncle to the Prince of Orange, and the - party which now governed Holland. Besides this, the English nation had - always been jealous of the commercial prosperity of the Dutch, and - they had not yet become sufficiently aware of the extent to which the - power of France was increasing, or the necessity for a Dutch alliance - in order to check it. - - We cannot be surprised, therefore, that this war should have broken - out; it began on the coast of Africa, and soon became general. De Witt - was, of course, at once appointed Chief Commissioner for the direction - of the navy, and by his personal exertions at Amsterdam and other - places he succeeded in fitting out a considerable fleet, very - differently equipped and provisioned to what had been the case in the - war with Cromwell. This fleet, however, under the command of Opdam, - engaged the English in the beginning of June 1665, and suffered a - tremendous and most disastrous defeat. Opdam was killed, and the other - admirals were at daggers drawn with each other. Such was the general - confusion and discouragement, and such the general instinct to turn to - De Witt in any great emergency, that though he had never yet had any - military or naval experience whatever, the chief command was at once - thrust upon him. He knew well how invidious his position would be, and - it was in spite of the earnest persuasion of his personal friends to - the contrary, that, at the call of duty, he accepted the office. - - The fleet had been driven into the Texel, and was shut in there by a - contrary wind. To Holland, who depended for her very existence upon - supplies from abroad, and whose East Indian ships at this very moment - required protection for their safe passage, it was absolutely - necessary that the fleet should at once put to sea. But the seamen - unanimously represented that as the wind then stood this was - impossible. De Witt, though no sailor, was a great mathematician. He - had read deeply and written ably on the subject, and he was now to put - his knowledge to practical use. He proved by calculation that it was - just possible, even with this adverse wind, to sail out by one - passage, then called the Spaniards’ Gat. The pilots now declared that - in the Spaniards’ Gat there was not more than ten feet of water, and - that this was not sufficient. De Witt took a boat, personally sounded - it, and found everywhere a depth of at least twenty feet. He himself - superintended the carrying out of the largest ship in the fleet, and - was followed by all the rest. - - He now had to exercise his diplomatic abilities in order to reconcile - the two admirals under his command—De Ruyter and the younger Van - Tromp. He succeeded in smoothing down their mutual animosities, and in - attaching them both personally to himself. But the sailors still - grumbled, not unnaturally, at being commanded by an unknown and - inexperienced landsman, and it was not till a violent storm arose that - he had an opportunity of winning their esteem. For two days and two - nights, without food and without rest, he remained on deck, infusing - courage into others, as only a really brave man can do, working - himself, and, what seems to have been unusual, forcing his officers - also by his example to work with their own hands. He gradually became - the idol of the men, showing particular concern for their comfort and - welfare, while, at the same time, by his tact and good management, he - avoided giving any offence to the officers. - - This expedition, however, does not seem on the whole to have been very - successful, probably on account of the roughness of the weather. On - his return he found the people violently irritated by false reports of - the intermeddling of himself and the other deputies whom he had taken - with him. He was particularly supposed to have thwarted De Ruyter, - but, unfortunately for his enemies, De Ruyter happened at this time to - come to the Hague, and to choose for his lodgings the house of the - very man who was reported to have behaved so ill. De Ruyter wrote a - letter to the States, not only vindicating, but warmly praising him. - De Witt also wrote an elaborate account of all his proceedings; the - tide of opinion changed. He received an enthusiastic vote of thanks, - and the offer of a large present, which he declined. - - De Witt only left the fleet in order to plunge deep into the tangled - thicket of negotiation. Louis XIV. was indeed nominally an ally, but - he was very slack and very procrastinating; delighted to see his two - neighbours tearing each other to pieces, and not anxious to help the - Dutch more than he was obliged. Denmark was making perfidious - overtures, first to England, and then to Holland. De Witt eventually - succeeded in forming an alliance with her, and also with Brandenburg, - but for a long time she required watching with constant attention. - Meanwhile Charles II. had induced the Bishop of Münster to invade the - United Provinces with 8000 men. The Bishop proved to be a bad general, - was threatened by Brandenburg in his rear, and was induced by De Witt - to leave the country before he had done much harm. But Holland had - received a warning to which she ought to have attended. The army was - evidently no longer the same as in the old days of Maurice and - Frederick Henry. There were ugly stories of incompetent officers, and - of men unwilling to expose themselves to the fire of the enemy. But - peace was made with the Bishop; men’s minds were diverted by the - fierce fighting which was going on at sea; and all this was hushed up, - and forgotten for a time. - - All parties in the State were now united in a vigorous prosecution of - the war. De Witt, who, as I have said, seems to have been the one man - besides his brother who looked after everything, had taken care that - the education of the young Prince of Orange should not be neglected. - Though he opposed with all his might intrusting him with the offices - held by his ancestors, he was magnanimous enough to provide that, if - he did obtain them, he should be qualified to fill them. The two - factions seemed now, in the face of a common danger, to have been for - the moment reconciled. A large and well-furnished fleet took the sea - in the summer of 1666 under De Ruyter and the younger Van Tromp; on - June I they met the English, under Prince Rupert and the Duke of - Albemarle. One of those desperate sea-battles took place which form - the peculiar feature of the period of which we are writing. The - English were outnumbered, but not more so than they have been in many - of the most decisive of their victories over other nations. For four - days the desperate struggle continued, and it ended in what the Dutch - called a victory, and the English a drawn battle. On July 25 another - engagement took place. The English, who had by this time been - reinforced, were now successful, but only after the most desperate - fighting. Van Tromp had become separated from De Ruyter, either from - accident or by design; but De Ruyter kept his station till night - against overwhelming numbers, and next morning moved sullenly away, - frequently exclaiming, ‘My God! is there not one among all these - bullets which will put an end to my miserable life?’ - - Not only were the Dutch defeated, but dissension of the most violent - nature broke out between the two admirals, and among all the officers - of the fleet. The Provinces were in consternation; De Witt was sent - out to endeavour to put things straight. Van Tromp’s commission was - taken from him, and some of the captains were punished; but the most - guilty are said to have escaped on account of their family - connections. - - Both nations were now beginning to be desirous of peace. Holland had - been reduced to great distress, and Charles had found the war attended - with little glory and much expense. De Witt, afraid of the intrigues - of the Orange party, refused to receive an Ambassador at the Hague, - but negotiations were begun at Paris. It was agreed as a basis that - each country should retain whatever possessions they at the moment - had. This was, on the whole, favourable to England, but some trifling - matters remained to be adjusted, and England meanwhile proposed - immediate disarmament. De Witt, knowing the character of King Charles, - and seeing his opportunity, persuaded the States to refuse. Charles, - as he expected, thinking the matter virtually settled, and wanting his - money for other purposes, made no preparations for the coming year. De - Witt, however, equipped a large fleet, which he despatched, early in - the summer, under the command of his brother Cornelius, straight to - the Thames. Sheerness was taken, and the Dutch sailed up the river. - The Medway was guarded by a chain drawn across it, and by three ships - of war; the chain was broken, and the ships burnt. Three more ships - were burnt at Chatham; the Dutch guns were heard in London, and there - was general consternation. Charles immediately sent orders to give way - upon all the points still insisted on by the Dutch, and peace was - signed at Breda. - - Thus ended the war between England and Holland. We may console our - national pride by feeling that our ill success was as much owing to - our own imbecile Government as to the merits of our enemy, but it will - be impossible to refuse a tribute of admiration to the latter. We have - grown so accustomed since, in reading of our many glorious wars, to - look with pride upon the map, and to compare our own small island with - the large proportions of our various opponents, that it almost amuses - us, now that it is so long ago, for once to observe the contrary, and - to remember that we were formerly defied and held at bay by a country - of almost exactly the same size as Wales. - - I have said that it was some time before England and Holland - recognised the fact, to us so obvious, that it was the common interest - of both countries to join together against France. The rising power of - that country, and the ambition displayed by her King, now began to - open the eyes of her neighbours. Even Charles II. was for a few years - persuaded to adopt the course required by reason; after some - preliminary negotiation, Sir William Temple was sent to the Hague, - where, with a celerity quite unexampled in anything at that time - dependent on the movements of the Dutch Government, he concluded a - Triple Alliance between England, Holland, and Sweden. This was carried - out by De Witt. He had for some time been convinced of the necessity - for it, but he had great difficulties in his way, as some of the - Provinces were in favour of the suicidal policy of an agreement with - France for the division of the Spanish territory in Flanders; De Witt - only carried his point by a breach of the Constitution. He persuaded - the States-General to sign the treaty at once, instead of referring it - back to the local Assemblies, as they were in strictness bound to do. - Had he not felt sure of his position with the people, he could only - have done this at the risk of his head; but there was no danger. He - was at this moment at the very height of popularity and fame. There is - some interest in contemplating a great man at such a moment, - particularly when there is in the background a dark shadow of - impending fate. The interest is in this instance increased by the - modest dignity of the hero; there is something very striking in the - picture drawn by Temple of the life and habits of one who at this - period shone prominently among the most conspicuous figures in - Europe,—his simple dress, his frugal house-keeping, and his single - servant. He lived upon a salary of £300 a year, shortly to be - increased to £700; and he steadily refused all presents from the - State; accepting with difficulty a small one of £1500 from the rich - families of his own Province. His third term of office now expired: he - was again elected for a fourth period of five years; it was to be the - last time. - - We are now to witness first the decline, and then the sudden close, of - this memorable career. De Witt’s popularity with the multitude was - never more than a temporary matter; the Prince of Orange was now - growing up, and had already displayed more than ordinary ability. He - was admitted into the Council, and he gathered round him a - considerable party—not large enough to assume the management of - affairs, but sufficiently so to cause division and weakness. On the - other hand, the party of burgomasters and rich citizens—the burgess - oligarchy, as we have called it—to which De Witt properly belonged, - and which had brought him into power, became divided within itself, - one portion only giving him undeviating support. De Witt had ceased, - to a certain extent, to be a party man, and every Minister in a - Constitutional Government who does this runs the risk of being - deserted by his followers. We have seen that, even in the height of - his power, he was unable to procure the punishment of the aristocratic - sea-captains who had misbehaved, and he was now equally unsuccessful - in his attempts to remodel and reorganise the army, which was largely - officered from the same class. But perhaps he did not push his - attempts in this direction with as much vigour as he ought, for he - relied largely upon diplomacy for preventing the necessity of - employing any army at all. - - Louis meanwhile applied all his energy and skill to dissolve the - Triple Alliance. He certainly succeeded in persuading the Dutch to - enter into negotiations, but to this De Witt only consented with the - utmost reluctance, evidently because he could not help himself; or we - may feel pretty sure that he would have succeeded in keeping his - country firm to its true interest. In England, however, things were - very different: it was the time of the Cabal—the worst and most - profligate Ministry we have ever had. By bribery of the Ministers, by - the promise of a large subsidy to the King, and with the help of the - beautiful Duchess of Portsmouth, whom he sent over for the purpose, - Louis persuaded our Government suddenly to reverse their whole policy, - to break all their engagements, and to declare war against the United - Provinces. - - The French were already prepared. An army of 130,000 men, commanded, - under the King, by Condé, Turenne, Luxembourg, and all the most - distinguished generals of France, advanced upon the frontier. The - Dutch troops were panicstricken and demoralised; the army had, as we - know, been allowed to get into a very unsatisfactory condition. De - Witt had relied chiefly upon the navy for maintaining the greatness of - his country; but he had not been insensible to the deficiencies of the - other branch of the service. He had, as I have said, tried hard, but - not hard enough, to remedy them. His party had always been pledged to - the reduction of the troops in order to keep down the taxation; the - adherents of the House of Orange, who comprised the best officers of - the country, had been unwilling to serve under the present Government, - and the Government had been equally unwilling to employ them. On the - other hand, the rich citizens, whose political support was the main - prop of the Administration, had insisted upon all the best commands - being conferred upon their sons and other relations, who were too - often utterly incompetent. The French passed the Rhine with only a - faint show of opposition, and, scattering their enemies before them, - marched almost to the very suburbs of Amsterdam. In the meantime the - Prince of Orange had been made, first Captain-General of the United - Provinces, and then Stadtholder of Holland and Zealand; his partisans - were everywhere triumphant, and his opponents, particularly after a - gallant but indecisive naval engagement, and a vain effort by De Witt - to make peace, were utterly crushed and discredited. Now comes the - tragic termination of our story. Cornelius de Witt had just - distinguished himself highly in the sea-fight of Solebay, but, on the - testimony of one of the most infamous of mankind, he was accused of - the preposterous charge of attempting to poison the Prince of Orange. - He was put to the torture, which he endured with heroic constancy, and - nothing could be wrung from him. But he was sentenced to be banished. - John de Witt, whose assassination had already been attempted a short - time before, went to convey his brother out of prison, and start him - on his journey. The prison was besieged by an armed mob, who blockaded - the door, and eventually broke into the room, where they found the two - brothers—Cornelius in bed, shattered by the torture which he had - recently undergone, and John, sitting upon the foot of the bed, calmly - reading his Bible. Cornelius, whose fiery and impetuous nature formed - a contrast to the composure and self-control of John, rose, in spite - of his weakness, and angrily bade the intruders begone. John, having - tried in vain to reason with them, put his arm round his brother, and - assisted him to descend the stairs. In the courtyard they were hustled - by the crowd, separated, and eventually murdered,—John, as he fell, - covering his face, like Cæsar, with his cloak. - - The end of De Witt’s political career was disastrous, and it is not - easy to assign to him his proper place among the statesmen of the - world. I think, however, it should be on the whole a high one; as to - actual work done, he merely showed that Holland could maintain her - proud position independently of the House of Orange. The great men of - that House, who came before and after him, under whom the United - Provinces were created a nation, and obtained a world-wide renown, - under whom, in a death-struggle with first one and then the other, - they successfully resisted all the strength of the two mightiest - monarchies in the world—those Princes, William the Silent, Maurice, - and William III., have thrown De Witt rather into the shade. It is - only when we take into account the difficulties he had to contend with - that his rare abilities become fully apparent. One of his biographers - has invidiously compared his character with that of Cromwell, who led - a rival Republic at about the same time. But it seems to me that there - are no materials for a comparison; what De Witt might have done as the - all-powerful chief of a large and well-disciplined army is an unknown - quantity. On the other hand, how would the great Protector, with his - irritable temper and his unintelligible speeches, have succeeded in - doing the work of De Witt? We must remember that Cromwell at the most - critical period only saved himself and his country by turning out half - his Parliament into the street. He cut the Gordian knot; while De Witt - was compelled to be continually untying it. There is a good simile, - supposed to have been used by an illustrious statesman of the present - day as regards his own position, but far less applicable to him than - to the Pensionary: ‘De Witt was like a man out hunting upon a mule.’ - - C. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - INDEX OF PORTRAITS. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - INDEX OF PORTRAITS. - - ------- - - - _Where there is more than one Portrait of the same Person, - the first number refers to the Page containing the notice of - the Life._ - - - ALBEMARLE, FIRST EARL OF, 399 - - ARLINGTON, EARL OF, WIFE AND DAUGHTER, 374 - - AUSTRIA, ARCHDUCHESSES OF, 39 - - AUVERQUERQUE, FIELD-MARSHAL, 199, 455 - - - BALBI BROTHERS, 384 - - BEAUVALE, LORD, 398 - - BOTNIA, JARICH VAN, 373 - - —— LUITS VAN, 374 - - BURKE, EDMUND, 69 - - - CLAVERING, JOHN, 334 - - CLIFFORD, NATHANIEL, 474 - - COLLETON, LADY ANNE, 456 - - COWPER, LADY, 398 - - —— LADY CAROLINE, 211 - - —— EDWARD, THE HONOURABLE, 334 - - —— HENRY, OF TEWIN WATER, 324 - - —— JOHN, 117 - - —— SARAH, LADY, 366 - - —— SPENCER, JUDGE, 119 - - —— SPENCER, THE HONOURABLE, DEAN OF DURHAM, 333 - - —— WILLIAM, SIR, FIRST BARONET, 115 - - —— —— SECOND BARONET, 119 - - —— WILLIAM, THE POET, 229 - - - « _EARLS_— » - - - - COWPER, FIRST EARL, LORD CHANCELLOR, 126, 173 - - —— AS A YOUTH, 335 - - —— SECOND EARL, 147 - - —— THIRD EARL, 148, 308, 324, 404 - - —— FOURTH EARL, 152 - - —— FIFTH EARL, 152, 323 - - COWPER, SIXTH EARL, 303 - - —— SEVENTH EARL, 331 - - - « _WIVES OF THE EARLS COWPER_— » - - - COWPER—OF THE FIRST EARL, 335, 398 - - —— —— SECOND EARL, 362 - - —— —— THIRD EARL, 308, 372 - - —— —— FIFTH EARL, 265 - - —— —— SIXTH EARL, 307 - - —— —— SEVENTH EARL, 228, 309 - - - DAMER, MRS. DAWSON, 475 - - DOLCE, CARLO, WIFE OF, 64 - - - ESTE, D’, ELEANORA, 65 - - - FAUCONBERG, CHARLOTTE, COUNTESS OF, 452 - - FIAMMINGO, 63 - - FORDWICH, VISCOUNT, 361 - - FOX, CHARLES JAMES, 84, 449 - - - GORE, FAMILY OF, 308 - - —— MRS., 361 - - GREY, DE, EARL, 325 - - - HOBBES, THOMAS, 98 - - HUGHES, JOHN, 395 - - - JACKSON, MISS, 372 - - - KIRKE, MADAM, 383 - - - LAMB, EMILY, THE HONOURABLE, 322, 323 - - —— FREDERICK, THE HONOURABLE, 327, 441 - - —— GEORGE, THE HONOURABLE, 306 - - —— HARRIET, THE HONOURABLE, 322 - - —— PENISTON, THE HONOURABLE, 320, 324, 327, 441 - - —— WILLIAM, THE HONOURABLE, 310, 303, 441 - - —— LADY CAROLINE, 461 - - LEGANES, MARQUEZ DE, 385 - - - MARLBOROUGH, SARAH, DUCHESS OF, 450 - - MARY, QUEEN OF ENGLAND, 436 - - MELBOURNE, FIRST VISCOUNT, 367, 322 - - —— SECOND VISCOUNT, 367, 403 - - —— VISCOUNTESS, 457, 320, 322, 323 - - MENGS, RAPHAEL, 442 - - MILBANKE, LADY, 456 - - —— SIR RALPH, 322 - - MILBANKE, JOHN, 322 - - MORO, SIR ANTONIO, 297 - - - NASSAU, THREE BROTHERS OF THE HOUSE OF, 474 - - —— JOHN, COUNT OF NASSAU SIEGEN, AND FAMILY, 153 - - NORTHCOTE, JAMES, R.A., 111 - - —— HIS FATHER, 449 - - NORTHUMBERLAND, EARL OF, 49 - - - ORANGE, FREDERIC HENRY OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF, 271 - - —— MAURICE OF NASSAU, PRINCE OF, 278 - - —— WILLIAM, PRINCE OF, 162 - - ORMONDE, FIRST DUKE OF, 404 - - OXFORD, EARL OF, 453 - - - PALMER, MISS, 225 - - - RETZ, CARDINAL DE, 92 - - REYNOLDS, SIR JOSHUA, P.R.A., 213 - - —— MRS. SAMUEL, 212 - - RUYTER, ADMIRAL DE, 159 - - - SARTO, ANDREA DEL, 39 - - - SEYMOUR, LADY CAROLINE, 367 - - SHAFTESBURY, EARL OF, 163 - - SOMERS, EARL, 173 - - SOUTHAMPTON, ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF, 387 - - —— RACHEL, COUNTESS OF, 391 - - STUART, LORDS JOHN AND BERNARD, 389 - - - TRENTO, CARDINAL, 437 - - TROMP, ADMIRAL VAN, 204 - - TURENNE, FIELD-MARSHAL, 3 - - - VANDYCK, ANTHONY, 53 - - - WALTA, LOUVE VAN, 437 - - WHARTON, LORD, 382 - - WITT, DE, BROTHERS, 481 - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -[Illustration: - - REST ✤ PRAY ✤ SLEEP -] - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ The Erratum on page 278 was, in the original, an entire page - inserted at this point. It was changed to a footnote. - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only - when a predominant form was found in this book. - ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - ○ The name of “Lord Somers” is spelled with an “overbar” on the - letter “m”. This cannot be reproduced in the text version, so the - overbar is omitted. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -[Illustration] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Biographical Catalogue of the -Portraits at Panshanger, the , by Mary Louisa Boyle - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIOGRAPHICAL CATALOGUE--PANSHANGER *** - -***** This file should be named 63698-0.txt or 63698-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/9/63698/ - -Produced by Fay Dunn, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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