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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #65107 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65107)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Knole and the Sackvilles, by V.
-Sackville-West
-
-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
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Knole and the Sackvilles
-
-Author: V. Sackville-West
-
-Release Date: April 19, 2021 [eBook #65107]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
- at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
- generously made available by The Internet Archive)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KNOLE AND THE SACKVILLES ***
-
-
-
-
- KNOLE _and the_ SACKVILLES
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- _John Frederick Sackville, 3^{rd}. Duke of Dorset K.G._
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by Gainsborough._
-]
-
-
-
-
- KNOLE
- _and_
- THE SACKVILLES
-
-
- by
-
- V. SACKVILLE-WEST
-
-
- LONDON
- WILLIAM HEINEMANN
- 1922
-
-
-
-
- CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE
-
-
- 1456 KNOLE _bought by_ Archbishop BOURCHIER
-
- 1486 _Death of Bourchier. Succeeded by_ Cardinal MORTON
-
- 1500 _Death of Morton. Succeeded by_ HENRY DEAN
-
- 1502 _Death of Dean. Succeeded by_ WAREHAM
-
- 1532 _Death of Wareham. Succeeded by_ CRANMER
-
- 1539 KNOLE _given by Cranmer to_ HENRY VIII
-
- 1546 _Death of Henry VIII. Succeeded by_ EDWARD VI
-
- 1550 KNOLE _granted by Edward VI to_ JOHN DUDLEY, Earl of Warwick
-
- 1552 KNOLE _resold by Warwick to_ EDWARD VI
-
- 1553 _Death of Edward VI. Succeeded by_ QUEEN MARY
-
- KNOLE _granted by the Queen to_ REGINALD POLE
-
- 1558 _Death of Mary. Succeeded by_ QUEEN ELIZABETH
-
- 1586 KNOLE _granted to_ THOMAS SACKVILLE _by Elizabeth_
-
-
- Thos. Sackville, _Lord Buckhurst_, 1st EARL _of_ DORSET 1536–1608
-
- 1554 _Married_ CECILIE BAKER
-
- 1557 _Member of Parliament_
- 1563
-
- 1563 _Travelling abroad_
-
- 1566 _Death of his father_, Sir RICHARD
-
- 1567 _Created_ Lord BUCKHURST
-
- 1568 _Ambassador to France_
-
- 1569 _Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex_
-
- 1571 _Ambassador to France_
-
- 1586 _Execution of_ MARY _Queen of_ SCOTS
-
- 1586 _Given_ KNOLE _by_ QUEEN ELIZABETH
-
- 1587 _Ambassador to the Low Countries_
-
- 1589 _Ambassador to the Low Countries_
-
- 1589 _Knight of the Garter_
-
- 1591 _Chancellor of Oxford_
-
- 1598 _Ambassador to the Low Countries_
-
- 1599 _Lord High Treasurer_
-
- 1601 _Lord High Steward_
-
- 1603 _Death of Queen Elizabeth. Succeeded by_ JAMES I
-
- 1603 _Lord Treasurer for life_
-
- 1604 _Created_ Earl _of_ DORSET
-
- 1608 _Death at the Council Table_
-
-
- Robert Sackville, 2nd EARL _of_ DORSET, 1561–1609
-
- 1579 _Married_ MARGARET HOWARD, _dau. of_ Duke _of_ NORFOLK
-
- 1585 _Member of Parliament_
- 1608
-
- 1592 _Married_ ANNE SPENCER
-
- 1608 _Succeeded his father_, THOMAS
-
- 1609 _Death_
-
-
- Richard Sackville, 3rd EARL _of_ DORSET, 1589–1624
-
- 1609 _Married_ Lady ANNE CLIFFORD, _daughter of_ GEORGE, Earl of
- CUMBERLAND
-
- 1609 _Succeeded his father_, ROBERT
-
- 1624 _Death_
-
-
- Edward Sackville, 4th EARL _of_ DORSET, 1591–1652
-
- 1605 _At Christ Church, Oxford_
-
- 1612 _Married_ MARY, _daughter of_ Sir GEORGE CURZON
-
- 1614 _His duel with_ Lord BRUCE
-
- 1614 _Member of Parliament_
-
- 1616 _Knight of the Bath_
-
- 1621 _Ambassador to_ LOUIS XIII
-
- 1623 _Travels in Italy_
- 1624
-
- 1623 _Again Ambassador to_ LOUIS XIII
-
- 1624 _Succeeded his brother_, RICHARD
-
- 1624 _Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex and Middlesex_
-
- 1625 _Knight of the Garter_
-
- 1625 _Death of James I. Succeeded by_ CHARLES I
-
- 1628 _Lord Chamberlain_
-
- 1630 Lady DORSET _appointed Governess to the King’s children_
-
- 1631 _Commissioner for Planting Virginia_
- 1634
-
- 1638 _Granted the East Coast of America_
-
- 1642 _Outbreak of civil war._ Ld. DORSET _joins the_ KING _at York_
-
- 1644 _Lord Privy Seal_
-
- 1649 _Execution of_ CHARLES I
-
- 1652 _Death_
-
-
- Richard Sackville, 5th EARL _of_ DORSET, 1622–1677
-
- Before _Married_ Lady FRANCES CRANFIELD, _daughter of_ LIONEL Earl _of_
- 1638 MIDDLESEX
-
- 1662 _Succeeded his father_, EDWARD
-
- 1660 _Lord-Lieutenant of Middlesex and Sussex_
- 1670
-
- 1677 _Death_
-
-
- Charles Sackville, 6th EARL _of_ DORSET _and_ EARL _of_ MIDDLESEX,
- 1638–1706
-
- 1660 _Member of Parliament_
-
- 1660 _Restoration of_ CHARLES II
-
- 1665 _Naval battle against the Dutch_
-
- 1667 _Living with_ NELL GWYNN
-
- 1668 _Ambassador to France_
-
- 1674 _Death of his mother; he succeeds to the Cranfield estates_
-
- 1675 _Created_ Earl _of_ MIDDLESEX
-
- 1677 _Succeeded his father_, RICHARD, _as_ Earl _of_ DORSET
-
- 1678 _Married_ MARY, Countess _of_ FALMOUTH
-
- 1685 _Married_ Lady MARY COMPTON, _daughter of_ JAMES Earl _of_
- NORTHAMPTON
-
- 1685 _Death of Charles II. Succeeded by_ JAMES II
-
- 1688 _Accession of_ WILLIAM _of_ ORANGE
-
- 1689 _Lord Chamberlain_
- 1697
-
- 1691 _Knight of the Garter_
-
- 1701 _His poems published with_ SEDLEY’S
-
- 1702 _Death of William III. Succeeded by_ QUEEN ANNE
-
- 1704 _Married_ ANNE ROCHE
-
- 1706 _Death_
-
-
- Lionel Sackville, 7th EARL _and_ 1st DUKE _of_ DORSET, 1688–1765
-
- 1706 _Succeeded his father_, CHARLES, _as_ Earl _of_ DORSET _and_
- MIDDLESEX
-
- 1709 _Married_ ELIZABETH COLYEAR
-
- 1708 _Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, intermittently till 1728_
-
- 1714 _Knight of the Garter_
-
- 1714 _Death of Queen Anne. Succeeded by_ GEORGE I
-
- 1720 _Created_ Duke _of_ DORSET
-
- 1725 _Lord Steward_
-
- 1727 _Death of George I. Succeeded by_ GEORGE II
-
- 1730 _Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland till 1737_
-
- 1746 _Lord-Lieutenant of Kent_
-
- 1750 _Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland till 1755_
-
- 1760 _Death of George II. Succeeded by_ GEORGE III
-
- 1765 _Death_
-
-
- Charles Sackville, 2nd DUKE _of_ DORSET, 1711–1769
-
- Before _On the Grand Tour_
- 1734
-
- 1734 _Member of Parliament intermittently till 1754. Lord of the
- Treasury and Master of the Horse_
-
- 1744 _Married_ GRACE BOYLE
-
- 1765 _Succeeded his father_, LIONEL, _as_ Duke _of_ DORSET
-
- 1769 _Death_
-
-
- John Frederick Sackville, 3rd DUKE _of_ DORSET, 1745–1799
-
- 1769 _Succeeded his uncle_, CHARLES
-
- 1783 _Ambassador to_ LOUIS XVI
- 1789
-
- 1788 _Knight of the Garter_
-
- 1769 _Lord-Lieutenant of Kent_
- 1797
-
- 1789 _Lord Steward_
- 1799
-
- 1790 _Married_ ARABELLA DIANA, _daughter of_ Sir JOHN COPE, _of
- Bramshill_
-
- 1799 _Death_
-
-
- George John Frederick Sackville, 4th DUKE _of_ DORSET, 1794–1815
-
- 1799 _Succeeded his father_, JOHN FREDERICK
-
- 1815 _Death_
-
-
-
-
- TABLE OF DESCENT
-
-
-[Illustration: TABLE OF DESCENT]
-
- _HERBRAND DE SACKVILLE_, _temp._ William the Conqueror
- |
- _SIR RICHARD SACKVILLE_, _temp._ Henry VIII
- |
- THOMAS SACKVILLE _m._ _Cecilie Baker_
- _b._ 1536 _d._ 1608 |
- LORD BUCKHURST _and_ |
- _1st_ EARL _of_ DORSET, K.G. |
- |
- ROBERT SACKVILLE _m._ _Lady Margaret Howard_
- _b._ 1561 _d._ 1609 |
- _2nd_ EARL _of_ DORSET |
- |
- +---------------------+------------------------+
- | |
- RICHARD SACKVILLE _m._ EDWARD SACKVILLE _m._
- _Lady Anne Clifford_ _Mary Curzon_
- _b._ 1589 _d._ 1624 _b._ 1589 _or_ ’90 _d._ 1652
- _3rd_ EARL _of_ DORSET, K.G. 4_th_ EARL _of_ DORSET, K.G.
- |
- +----------------------------------------------+
- |
- RICHARD SACKVILLE _m._ _Lady Frances Cranfield_
- _b._ 1622 _d._ 1677, 5_th_ EARL _of_ DORSET |
- |
- CHARLES SACKVILLE _m._ _Lady Mary Compton_
- _b._ 1637 _or_ ’36 _d._ 1706 |
- 6_th_ EARL _of_ DORSET, K.G. |
- |
- LIONEL SACKVILLE _m._ _Elizabeth Colyear_
- _b._ 1686 _d._ 1765 |
- 7_th_ EARL _and_ _1st_ |
- DUKE _of_ DORSET, K.G. |
- +-----------------------+--------------------+-------+
- | | |
- CHARLES SACKVILLE LORD JOHN SACKVILLE LORD GEORGE SACKVILLE
- _b._ 1711 _d._ 1769 _d._ 1765 _b._ 1716 _d._ 1785
- _2nd_ DUKE _of_ DORSET | _cr._ VISCOUNT SACKVILLE
- | |
- JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE |
- _m._ _Arabella Diana Cope_ of Bramshill CHARLES SACKVILLE
- _b._ 1745 _d._ 1799 _b._ 1767 _d._ 1843
- _3rd_ DUKE _of_ DORSET, K.G. 5_th_ DUKE _of_ DORSET, K.G.
- |
- +-------------------------+-----+---------------+
- | | |
- LADY MARY SACKVILLE GEORGE JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE |
- _b._ 1794 _d._ 1815 |
- 4_th_ DUKE _of_ DORSET |
- |
- LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE
- _m._ _John West, Earl de la Warr_
- _b._ 1796 _d._ 1870
- |
- +-----------------+-------------------+-------------+--------+
- | | | |
- CHARLES MORTIMER LIONEL WILLIAM
- EARL DE LA WARR _1st_ LORD SACKVILLE _2nd_ LORD SACKVILLE |
- _d._ 1873 _b._ 1820 _b._ 1827 |
- _d._ 1888 _d._ 1908 |
- LIONEL, _3rd_ LORD SACKVILLE
- _b._ 1867
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS
-
-
- _Chronological Table_ _vii_
-
- _Table of Descent_ _xii_
-
- _Ch._ I The House p. 1
-
- II The Garden and Park 20
-
- III Knole in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth 28
-
- IV Knole in the Reign of James I 48
-
- V Knole in the Reign of Charles I 82
-
- VI Knole in the Reign of Charles II 111
-
- VII Knole in the Early Eighteenth Century 152
-
- VIII Knole at the End of the Eighteenth Century 176
-
- IX Knole in the Nineteenth Century 201
-
- _Appendix_ 221
-
- _Index_ 223
-
-
-
-
- _The dome of Knole, by fame enrolled,
- The Church of Canterbury,
- The hops, the beer, the cherries there,
- Would fill a noble story._
-
-
-
-
- LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
- JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 3RD DUKE OF DORSET. _From the
- portrait at Knole by_ GAINSBOROUGH _Frontispiece_
-
- NORTH-EAST VIEW OF KNOLE. _From the drawing by_ T.
- BRIDGEMAN _To face page_ 2
-
- THE GREEN COURT, BOURCHIER’S ORIEL 6
-
- THE STONE COURT, BOURCHIER’S GATEHOUSE 10
-
- THE STONE COURT 16
-
- KNOLE FROM AN AEROPLANE 20
-
- THE GARDEN SIDE 22
-
- A GATEWAY INTO THE GARDEN 26
-
- A CONFERENCE OF ENGLISH AND SPANISH PLENIPOTENTIARIES AT
- SOMERSET HOUSE IN 1604. _From the painting by_ MARC
- GHEERHARDTS _in the National Portrait Gallery_ 32
-
- LEAD PIPE-HEADS. _Put Up by_ THOMAS SACKVILLE _in 1605_ 38
-
- THE GREAT STAIRCASE (UPPER FLIGHT). _Built by_ THOMAS
- SACKVILLE 1604–8 46
-
- RICHARD SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET, K.G. _From the
- miniature by_ ISAAC OLIVER _in the Victoria and Albert
- Museum_ 52
-
- LADY ANNE CLIFFORD, _wife of_ RICHARD SACKVILLE, _3rd
- Earl of Dorset. From the portrait at Knole by_ MYTENS 56
-
- LADY MARGARET SACKVILLE, _daughter to_ RICHARD
- SACKVILLE, _3rd Earl of Dorset, and_ LADY ANNE
- CLIFFORD: “The Child.” _From the portrait at Knole by_
- MYTENS 68
-
- THE VENETIAN AMBASSADOR’S BEDROOM 72
-
- EDWARD SACKVILLE, 4TH EARL OF DORSET, K.G. _From the
- portrait at Knole by_ VANDYCK 84
-
- THE TWO SONS OF EDWARD, 4TH EARL OF DORSET: RICHARD,
- LORD BUCKHURST _and_ THE HON. EDWARD SACKVILLE. _From
- the portrait at Knole by_ CORNELIUS NUIE 106
-
- CHARLES SACKVILLE, 6TH EARL OF DORSET, K.G. _From the
- portrait by Sir_ GODFREY KNELLER _in the Poets’
- Parlour at Knole_ 116
-
- THE BROWN GALLERY. _Built by_ ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER _in
- 1460_ 148
-
- LADY BETTY GERMAINE. _From the portrait at Knole by_ C.
- PHILLIPS _To
- face page_ 168
-
- LADY BETTY GERMAINE’S BEDROOM AT KNOLE 172
-
- HWANG-A-TUNG, A CHINESE BOY, page to the 3rd Duke of
- Dorset. _From the portrait at Knole by Sir_ JOSHUA
- REYNOLDS 192
-
- JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET; ARABELLA
- DIANA, 3RD DUCHESS OF DORSET; THE EARL OF MIDDLESEX;
- LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE, _and_ LADY MARY SACKVILLE.
- _From a silhouette by_ A. T. TERSTAN 1797. _The
- property of_ LADY SACKVILLE 196
-
- GEORGE JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 4TH EARL OF DORSET;
- LADY MARY SACKVILLE, _and_ LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE.
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ HOPPNER 204
-
- ROCKING-HORSE, once the property of the 4th Duke of
- Dorset: A RECEIPT _from_ GAINSBOROUGH 208
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER I
- The House
-
-
- § i
-
-There are two sides from which you may first profitably look at the
-house. One is from the park, the north side. From here the pile shows
-best the vastness of its size; it looks like a mediaeval village. It is
-heaped with no attempt at symmetry; it is sombre and frowning; the grey
-towers rise; the battlements cut out their square regularity against the
-sky; the buttresses of the old twelfth-century tithe-barn give a rough
-impression of fortifications. There is a line of trees in one of the
-inner courtyards, and their green heads show above the roofs of the old
-breweries; but although they are actually trees of a considerable size
-they are dwarfed and unnoticeable against the mass of the buildings
-blocked behind them. The whole pile soars to a peak which is the
-clocktower with its pointed roof: it might be the spire of the church on
-the summit of the hill crowning the mediaeval village. At sunset I have
-seen the silhouette of the great building stand dead black on a red sky;
-on moonlight nights it stands black and silent, with glinting windows,
-like an enchanted castle. On misty autumn nights I have seen it emerging
-partially from the trails of vapour, and heard the lonely roar of the
-red deer roaming under the walls.
-
-
- § ii
-
-The other side is the garden side—the gay, princely side, with flowers
-in the foreground; the grey walls rising straight up from the green
-turf; the mullioned windows, and the Tudor gables with the heraldic
-leopards sitting stiffly at each corner. The park side is the side for
-winter; the garden side the side for summer. It has an indescribable
-gaiety and courtliness. The grey of the Kentish rag is almost pearly in
-the sun, the occasional coral festoon of a climbing rose dashed against
-it; the long brown-red roofs are broken by the chimney-stacks with their
-slim, peaceful threads of blue smoke mounting steadily upwards. One
-looks down upon the house from a certain corner in the garden. Here is a
-bench among a group of yews—dark, red-berried yews; and the house lies
-below one in the hollow, lovely in its colour and its serenity. It has
-all the quality of peace and permanence; of mellow age; of stateliness
-and tradition. It is gentle and venerable. Yet it is, as I have said,
-gay. It has the deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always
-been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come
-and go, smiled wisely over their sorrows and their joys, and learnt an
-imperishable secret of tolerance and humour. It is, above all, an
-English house. It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of
-the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the
-blue of the pale English sky; it settles down into its hollow amongst
-the cushioned tops of the trees; the brown-red of those roofs is the
-brown-red of the roofs of humble farms and pointed oast-houses, such as
-stain over a wide landscape of England the quilt-like pattern of the
-fields. I make bold to say that it stoops to nothing either pretentious
-or meretricious. There is here no flourish of architecture, no ornament
-but the leopards, rigid and vigilant. The stranger may even think, upon
-arrival, that the front of the house is disappointing. It is, indeed,
-extremely modest. There is a gate-house flanked by two square grey
-towers, placed between two wings which provide only a monotony of
-windows and gables. It is true that two or three fine sycamores,
-symmetrical and circular as open umbrellas, redeem the severity of the
-front, and that a herd of fallow deer, browsing in the dappled shade of
-the trees, maintains the tradition of an English park. But, for the
-rest, the front of the house is so severe as to be positively
-uninteresting; it is quiet and monkish; “a beautiful decent simplicity,”
-said Horace Walpole, “which charms one.” There is here to be found none
-of the splendour of Elizabethan building. A different impression,
-however, is in store when once the wicket-gate has been opened. You are
-in a courtyard of a size the frontage had never led you to expect, and
-the vista through a second gateway shows you the columns of a second
-court; your eye is caught by an oriel window opposite, and by other
-windows with heraldic bearings in their panes, promise of rooms and
-galleries; by gables and the heraldic leopards; by the clock tower which
-gives an oddly Chinese effect immediately above the Tudor oriel. Up till
-a few years ago Virginia creeper blazed scarlet in autumn on the walls
-of the Green Court, but it has now been torn away, and what may be lost
-in colour is compensated by the gain in seeing the grey stone and the
-slight moulding which runs, following the shape of the towers, across
-the house.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- NORTH-EAST VIEW OF KNOLE
-
- _From the drawing by_ T. BRIDGEMAN
-]
-
-On the whole, the quadrangle is reminiscent of Oxford, though more
-palatial and less studious. The house is built round a system of these
-courtyards: first this one, the Green Court, which is the largest and
-most magnificent; then the second one, or Stone Court, which is not
-turfed, like the Green Court, but wholly paved, and which has along one
-side of it a Jacobean colonnade; the third court is the Water Court, and
-has none of the display of the first two: it is smaller, and quite
-demure, indeed rather like some old house in Nuremberg, with the
-latticed window of one of the galleries running the whole length of it,
-and the friendly unconcern of an immense bay-tree growing against one of
-its walls. There are four other courts, making seven in all. This number
-is supposed to correspond to the days in the week; and in pursuance of
-this conceit there are in the house fifty-two staircases, corresponding
-to the weeks in the year, and three hundred and sixty-five rooms,
-corresponding to the days. I cannot truthfully pretend that I have ever
-verified these counts, and it may be that their accuracy is accepted
-solely on the strength of the legend; but, if this is so, then it has
-been a very persistent legend, and I prefer to sympathise with the
-amusement of the ultimate architect on making the discovery that by a
-judicious juggling with his additions he could bring courts, stairs, and
-rooms up to that satisfactory total.
-
-A stone lobby under the oriel window divides the Green Court from the
-Stone Court. In summer the great oak doors of this second gate-house are
-left open, and it has sometimes happened that I have found a stag in the
-banqueting hall, puzzled but still dignified, strayed in from the park
-since no barrier checked him.
-
-It becomes impossible, after passing through the formality of the two
-first quadrangles, to follow the ramblings of the house geographically.
-They are so involved that, after a lifetime of familiarity, I still
-catch myself pausing to think out the shortest route from one room to
-another. Four acres of building is no mean matter.
-
-
- § iii
-
-Into the very early mediaeval history of the house I do not think that I
-need enter. It is suggested that a Roman building once occupied the
-site, and that some foundations which were recently unearthed beneath
-the larder—evidently one of the oldest portions—once formed part of that
-construction. The question of dating the existing buildings, however, is
-quite sufficiently complicated without going back to a building which no
-longer exists. Nor do I think that the early owners—the Pembrokes, or
-the Say and Seles—offer the smallest interest; if we knew precisely what
-parts of the house we owed to them severally it would be another matter,
-but the mediaeval records are very scanty. It is safe to say, generally
-speaking, that the north side is the oldest side; it is the most sombre,
-the most massive, and the most irregular; there are buttresses,
-battlements, and towers, but no gables and no embellishments—nothing but
-solid masonry. Up in the north-east corner is the old kitchen, and the
-old entrances through dark archways at the top of stairways. The
-passages here, of thick stone, twist oddly, and their ceilings are
-groined by semi-arches which have become lost and embedded in the
-alterations to the stone-work. It is a dark, massive, little-visited
-corner, this nucleus of Knole.
-
-The house, or such portions of it as then existed, was bought from
-William, Lord Say and Sele, by Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, on
-June 30, 1456, and it is clear from the numerous bills among the
-archives at Lambeth Palace that both he and his more notable successor,
-Cardinal Morton, carried out extensive additions, alterations, and
-repairs. It is, however, a very difficult task to determine what parts
-of the building definitely belong to this period, for, what with the
-additions of the archbishops and the alterations of the later
-Sackvilles, all is confusion. It would appear, for instance, that upon a
-foundation of Tudor masonry the Sackvilles constructed the Elizabethan
-gables which are now so characteristic a feature of the house; but it is
-less easy to say exactly how much the first Tudor archbishop found there
-on his arrival of earlier workmanship. A further confusing factor is the
-great fire which took place in 1623, and is reported to have destroyed a
-large part of the building—but exactly where, and how much, we cannot
-say. Nor are the accounts at Lambeth very illuminating:
-
- In divers costs and expenses made this year [1467] for repairing the
- manor of Knole, carriage for the two cart loads of lathes from Panters
- to the manor, 14_d._ For carriage of thirty loads of stone for the new
- tower, 7_d._ load = 16/9. Carriage of six loads of timber at 7_d._ =
- 3/6. Carriage of one fother of lead from London to Knole, 3/4.
-
-The next year, 1468:
-
- Repairs at Knole. One labourer for 6 days work in the great chamber
- and the new _seler_, 2/-. Making of 700 lathes to the new tower,
- 14_d._ One labourer 4½ days in the old kitchen, 4_d._ Item, for 1 j
- M^1 of walle prygge (_sic_) to the stable and other places, 13_d._ One
- cowl to the masonry, 12_d._
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE GREEN COURT: BOURCHIER’S ORIEL
-]
-
-The “great chamber” referred to here was in all probability the present
-Great Hall, which we know to have been built by Bourchier about 1460,
-although it was altered by Thomas Sackville, who put in the present
-ceiling, panelling, and oak screen. Thomas also built the Great
-Staircase in 1604–8, leading to the Ball-room, which is of the time of
-Bourchier. I expect this is the “seler” referred to, meaning solar and
-not cellar, as might be thought; or did it mean the present colonnade,
-which is also of Bourchier’s building, in 1468? The position of the “new
-tower” is nowhere specified, but I wonder whether it is not the tower
-beside the chapel, where there is a stone fireplace bearing Bourchier’s
-cognisance—the double knot—and the same device in a small pane of
-stained glass in the window. This tower, moreover, goes commonly by the
-name of Bourchier’s Tower.
-
-There are a few more items mentioned in the Lambeth papers, 1468–9:
-“Repairs at Knole. Repairs at one house set aside for the slaughter of
-sheep and other [animals?] for the use of the Lord’s great house at
-Sevenoaks, 113_s._ 2_d._” This, I think, is certainly the old
-slaughter-house which forms one side of the Queen’s Court. It is
-obviously a very old building. But there is one point in this account
-which is of interest, namely, that Knole should at this date have been
-referred to as the “great house.” This would seem to prove that the
-greater mass of the building was already in existence, since by the
-latter half of the fifteenth century there were already many houses and
-palaces in England whose bulk would argue that the current standard of
-greatness might be high and the adjective not too readily applied. The
-Primate owned, moreover, up to the time of the Reformation no less than
-twelve palaces and houses of residence in the diocese of Canterbury
-alone, namely, Bekesburn, Ford, Maidstone, Charing, Saltwood, Aldington,
-Wingham, Wrotham, Tenterden, Knole, Otford, and Canterbury. It seems,
-therefore, unlikely that Knole should be singled out as a “great house”
-unless there were good justification for the expression.
-
-Bourchier also built the Brown Gallery about 1460, and at or about the
-same date he put up the machicolations over the gate-house between the
-Green Court and the Stone Court. Towards the end of the same century,
-Morton, his successor, “threw out an oriel window which rendered the
-machicolations useless, and showed that all idea of such fortifications
-was at an end.” It is not known precisely how much Morton built at
-Knole. It is even uncertain whether he or Bourchier built the Chapel.
-The Lambeth records cease with some small repairs in 1487–88, so we have
-nothing to go upon—all the more pity, for Morton was a great prelate,
-forgotten now in the greater fame of the Tudor dynasty, “his name
-buried,” says his chronicler, “under his own creation.” This cardinal,
-having succeeded Bourchier in 1486, held the Primacy for fourteen years,
-and died at Knole in 1500. I pass over his successors, Dean and Wareham,
-for I do not know how much they did at Knole. Cranmer, the next
-archbishop, enjoyed the house for seven years only, when he was
-compelled—quite amicably, but nevertheless compelled—to present it to
-Henry VIII, whose fancy it had taken. Here the accounts begin again,[1]
-although they give very little indication: £872 by Royal Warrant in
-1543, £770 in 1548, £80 in 1546—three sums which would now be
-equivalent, roughly, to £30,000.
-
-After Henry VIII Knole continued as Crown property, passing now and then
-temporarily into the hands of various favourites, until in 1586 it was
-given by Queen Elizabeth to her cousin, Thomas Sackville, and has
-remained in the possession of his family ever since.
-
-
- § iv
-
-The main block, therefore, meanders from Henry VII through Henry VIII to
-Elizabeth and James I: that is to say, roughly, from the end of the
-fifteenth century to the beginning of the seventeenth. There may be
-earlier out-buildings and later excrescences, but it is safe to say that
-the greater portion was built in the reigns of the Tudors. It is all of
-the same Kentish rag, with the exception of a row of gables which have
-been plastered over, and which were probably once of the
-beam-and-plaster fashion so prevalent at that date in Kent. With this
-exception the walls are of the grey stone, in many places ten and twelve
-feet thick, cool in summer, and, for some reason, not particularly warm
-in winter. The rooms are, for the most part, rather small and rather
-low; they break out, of course, now into galleries, now into a
-ball-room, now into a banqueting-hall, but the majority of them are
-small, friendly rooms—not intimidating; some people might even think
-them poky, relative to the size of the house. I do not think that they
-are poky. They are eminently rooms intended to be lived in, and not
-merely admired, though no doubt a practical consideration was present in
-the problem of heating to determine their size. Yet from an old diary
-preserved at Knole, and from which in its place I shall have the
-opportunity to give extracts, it is clear that in the early seventeenth
-century at all events the life of the house was carried on largely in
-one or the other of the long galleries. Now, none of the galleries has
-more than one fireplace. It must have been very cold. The old braziers
-that could be carried about the room as occasion required still stand in
-the rooms where they were used, and so do the copper warming-pans,
-shining and perforated, which were thrust into the beds to warm them
-before the arrival of the occupant. The principal beds, of course, must
-have been magnificently stuffy. They are four-posters, so tall as to
-reach from floor to ceiling, with stiff brocaded curtains that could
-completely enclose the sleeper. But on winter days I cannot believe that
-the group ever moved very far away from the fireplace or the brazier;
-and indeed, judging from the same diary, they seemed always to be
-“keeping their chamber” on account of coughs, colds, rheumatism, or ague
-when they were not keeping it because they were “sullen” with one
-another, or “brought to bed” of a son or a daughter.
-
-
- § v
-
-The galleries are perhaps the most characteristic rooms in such a house.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE STONE COURT: BOURCHIER’S GATEHOUSE
-]
-
-Long and narrow, with dark shining floors, armorial glass in the
-windows, rich plaster-work ceilings, and portraits on the walls, they
-are splendidly sombre and sumptuous. The colour of the Cartoon Gallery,
-when I have come into it in the evening, with the sunset flaming through
-the west window, has often taken my breath away. I have stood, stock
-still and astonished, in the doorway. The gallery is ninety feet in
-length, the floor formed of black oak planks irregularly laid, the charm
-of which is that they are not planks at all, but solid tree-trunks,
-split in half, with the rounded half downwards; and on this oak flooring
-lie the blue and scarlet patches from the stained west window, more
-subduedly echoed in the velvets of the chair coverings, the coloured
-marbles of the great Renaissance fireplace, and the fruits and garlands
-of the carved woodwork surrounding the windows. There is nothing garish:
-all the colours have melted into an old harmony that is one of the
-principal beauties of these rooms. The walls here in the Cartoon Gallery
-are hung with rose-red Genoa velvet, so lovely that I almost regret
-Mytens’ copies of the Raphael cartoons hiding most of it; but if, at
-Knole, one were too nicely reluctant to sacrifice the walls, whether
-panelled or velvet-hung, then all the pictures would have to be stacked
-on the floor of the attics. The same regret applies to the ball-room,
-where the Elizabethan panelling—oak, but originally painted white,
-turned by age to ivory—is so covered up as to be unnoticeable behind the
-Sackville portraits of ten generations. Fortunately, the frieze in the
-ball-room cannot be hidden. It used to delight me as a child, with its
-carved intricacies of mermaids and dolphins, mermen and mermaids with
-scaly, twisting tails and salient anatomy, and I was invariably
-contemptuous of those visitors to whom I pointed out the frieze but who
-were more interested in the pictures. It always fell to my lot to “show
-the house” to visitors when I was living there alone with my
-grandfather, for he shared the family failing of unsociability, and
-whenever a telegram arrived threatening invasion he used to take the
-next train to London for the day, returning in the evening when the
-coast was clear. It mattered nothing that I was every whit as bored by
-the invasion as he could have been; in a divergence between the wishes
-of eighty and the wishes of eight, the wishes of eight went to the wall.
-
-
- § vi
-
-There are other galleries, older and more austere than the Cartoon
-Gallery. They are not quite so long, they are narrower, lower, and
-darker, and not so exuberant in decoration; indeed, they are simply and
-soberly panelled in oak. They have the old, musty smell which, to me,
-whenever I met it, would bring back Knole. I suppose it is really the
-smell of all old houses—a mixture of woodwork, pot-pourri, leather,
-tapestry, and the little camphor bags which keep away the moth; the
-smell engendered by the shut windows of winter and the open windows of
-summer, with the breeze of summer blowing in from across the park. Bowls
-of lavender and dried rose-leaves stand on the window-sills; and if you
-stir them up you get the quintessence of the smell, a sort of dusty
-fragrance, sweeter in the under layers where it has held the damp of the
-spices. The pot-pourri at Knole is always made from the recipe of a
-prim-looking little old lady who lived there for many years as a guest
-in the reigns of George I and George II. Her two rooms open out of one
-of the galleries, two of the smallest rooms in the house, the bedroom
-hung with a pale landscape of blue-green tapestry, the sitting-room
-panelled in oak; and in the bedroom stands her small but pompous bed,
-with bunches of ostrich-plumes nodding at each of the four corners.
-Strangers usually seem to like these two little rooms best, coming to
-them as they do, rather overawed by the splendour of the galleries; they
-are amused by the smallness of the four-poster, square as a box, its
-creamy lining so beautifully quilted; by the spinning-wheel, with the
-shuttle still full of old flax; and by the ring-box, containing a number
-of plain-cut stones, which could be exchanged at will into the single
-gold setting provided. The windows of these rooms, furthermore, look out
-on to the garden; they are human, habitable little rooms, reassuring
-after the pomp of the Ball-room and the galleries. In the sitting-room
-there is a small portrait of the prim lady, Lady Betty Germaine, sitting
-very stiff in a blue brocaded dress; she looks as though she had been a
-martinet in a tight, narrow way.
-
-The gallery leading to these rooms is called the Brown Gallery. It is
-well named—oak floor, oak walls, and barrelled ceiling, criss-crossed
-with oak slats in a pattern something like cat’s cradle. Some of the
-best pieces of the English furniture are ranged down each side of this
-gallery: portentously important chairs, Jacobean cross-legged or later
-love-seats in their original coverings, whether of plum and silver, or
-red brocade with heavy fringes, or green with silver fringes, or yellow
-silk sprigged in black, or powder-blue; and all have their attendant
-stool squatting beside them. They are lovely, silent rows, for ever
-holding out their arms, and for ever disappointed. At the end of this
-gallery is a tiny oratory, down two steps, for the use of the devout:
-this little, almost secret, place glows with colour like a jewel, but
-nobody ever notices it, and on the whole it probably prefers to hide
-itself away unobserved.
-
-There is also the Leicester Gallery, which preserves in its name the
-sole trace of Lord Leicester’s brief ownership of Knole. The Leicester
-Gallery is very dark and mysterious, furnished with red velvet
-Cromwellian farthingale chairs and sofas, dark as wine; there are
-illuminated scrolls of two family pedigrees—Sackville and Curzon—richly
-emblazoned with coats of arms, drawn out in 1589 and 1623 respectively;
-and in the end window there is a small stained-glass portrait of
-“Herbrand de Sackville, a Norman notable, came into England with William
-the Conqueror, A.D. 1066.” (_Herbrandus de Sackville, Praepotens
-Normanus, intravit Angliam cum Gulielmo Conquestore, Anno Domini
-MLXVI._) There is also a curious portrait hanging on one of the doors,
-of Catherine Fitzgerald Countess of Desmond, the portrait of a very old
-lady, in a black dress and a white ruff, with that strange far-away look
-in her dead blue eyes that comes with extreme age. For tradition says of
-her that she was born in the reign of Edward the Fourth and died in the
-reign of Charles the First, breaking her leg incidentally at the age of
-ninety by falling off a cherry tree; that is to say, she was a child
-when the princes were smothered in the Tower, a girl when Henry the
-Seventh came to the throne, and watched the pageant of all the Tudors
-and the accession of the Stuarts—the whole of English history enclosed
-between the Wars of the Roses and the Civil War. She must have been a
-truly legendary figure in the country by the time she had reached the
-age of a hundred and forty or thereabouts.
-
-It is rather a frightening portrait, that portrait of Lady Desmond. If
-you go into the gallery after nightfall with a candle the pale, far-away
-eyes stare past you into the dark corners of the wainscot, eyes either
-over-charged or empty—which? The house is not haunted, but you require
-either an unimaginative nerve or else a complete certainty of the
-house’s benevolence before you can wander through the state-rooms after
-nightfall with a candle. The light gleams on the dull gilding of
-furniture and into the misty depths of mirrors, and startles up a sudden
-face out of the gloom; something creaks and sighs; the tapestry sways,
-and the figures on it undulate and seem to come alive. The recesses of
-the great beds, deep in shadow, might be inhabited, and you would not
-know it; eyes might watch you, unseen. The man with the candle is under
-a terrible disadvantage to the man in the dark.
-
-
- § vii
-
-As there are three galleries among the state-rooms, so are there three
-principal bedrooms: the King’s, the Venetian Ambassador’s, and the
-Spangled Room. The King’s bedroom is the only vulgar room in the house.
-Not that the furniture put there for the reception of James the First is
-vulgar: it is excessively magnificent, the canopy of the immense bed
-reaching almost to the ceiling, decked with ostrich feathers, the
-hangings stiff with gold and silver thread, the coverlet and the
-interior of the curtains heavily embroidered with a design of
-pomegranates and tiger-lilies worked in silver on a coral satin ground,
-the royal cipher embossed over the pillows—all this is very magnificent,
-but not vulgar. What is vulgar is the set of furniture made entirely in
-silver: table, hanging mirror, and tripods—the florid and ostentatious
-product of the florid Restoration. There is a surprising amount of
-silver in the room: sconces, ginger-jars, mirrors, fire-dogs,
-toilet-set, rose-water sprinklers, even to a little eye-bath, all of
-silver, but these smaller objects have not the blatancy of the set of
-furniture. Charles Sackville, for whom it was made, cannot have known
-when he had had enough of a good thing.
-
-It is almost a relief to go from here to the Venetian Ambassador’s
-Bedroom. Green and gold; Burgundian tapestry, mediaeval figures walking
-in a garden; a rosy Persian rug—of all rooms I never saw a room that so
-had over it a bloom like the bloom on a bowl of grapes and figs. I
-cannot keep the simile, which may convey nothing to those who have not
-seen the room, out of my mind. Greens and pinks originally bright, now
-dusted and tarnished over. It is a very grave, stately room, rather
-melancholy in spite of its stateliness. It seems to miss its inhabitants
-more than do any of the other rooms. Perhaps this is because the bed
-appears to be designed for three: it is of enormous breadth, and there
-are three pillows in a row. Presumably this is what the Italians call a
-_letto matrimoniale_.
-
-
- § viii
-
-In a remote corner of the house is the Chapel of the Archbishops, small,
-and very much bejewelled. Tapestry, oak, and stained-glass—the chapel
-smoulders with colour. It is greatly improved since the oak has been
-pickled and the mustard-yellow paint removed, also the painted
-myrtle-wreaths, tied with a gilt ribbon, in the centre of each panel,
-with which the nineteenth century adorned it, when it was considered
-“very simple, plain, and neat in its appearance, and well adapted for
-family worship.” The hand of the nineteenth century fell rather heavily
-on the chapel: besides painting the oak yellow and the ceiling blue with
-gold stars, it erected a Gothic screen and a yellow organ; but
-fortunately these are both at the entrance, and you can turn your back
-on them and look down the little nave to the altar where Mary Queen of
-Scots’ gifts stand under the Perpendicular east window. All along the
-left-hand wall hangs the Gothic tapestry—scenes from the life of Christ,
-the figures, ungainly enough, trampling on an edging of tall irises and
-lilies exquisitely designed; and “Saint Luke in his first profession,”
-wrote Horace Walpole irreverently, “holding a urinal.” There used to be
-other tapestries in the house; there was one of the Seven Deadly Sins
-set, woven with gold threads, and there was another series, very early,
-representing the Flood and the two-by-two procession of the animals
-going into a weather-boarded Ark; but these, alas, had to be sold, and
-are now in America.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE STONE COURT
-]
-
-The chapel looks strange and lovely during a midnight thunderstorm: the
-lightning flashes through the stone ogives of the east window, and one
-gets a queer effect, unreal like colour photography, of the colours lit
-up by that unfamiliar means. A flight of little private steps leads out
-of my bedroom straight into the Family Pew; so I dare to say that there
-are few aspects under which I have not seen the chapel; and as a child I
-used to “take sanctuary” there when I had been naughty: that is to say,
-fairly often. They never found me, sulking inside the pulpit.
-
-
- § ix
-
-There would, of course, be many other aspects from which I might
-consider Knole; indeed, if I allowed myself full licence I might ramble
-out over Kent and down into Sussex, to Lewes, Buckhurst, and Withyham,
-out into the fruit country and the hop country, across the Weald, over
-Saxonbury, and to Lewes among the Downs, and still I should not feel
-guilty of irrelevance. Of whatever English county I spoke, I still
-should be aware of the relationship between the English soil and that
-most English house. But more especially do I feel this concerning Kent
-and Sussex, and concerning the roads over which the Sackvilles travelled
-so constantly between estate and estate. The place-names in their
-letters recur through the centuries; the paper is a little yellower as
-the age increases, the ink a little more faded, the handwriting a little
-less easily decipherable, but still the gist is always the same: “I go
-to-morrow into Kent,” “I quit Buckhurst for Knole,” “my Lord rode to
-Lewes with a great company,” “we came to Knole by coach at midnight.”
-The whole district is littered with their associations, whether a
-village whose living lay in their gift, or a town where they endowed a
-college, or a wood where they hunted, or the village church where they
-had themselves buried. Sussex, in fact, was their cradle long before
-they came into Kent. Buckhurst, which they had owned since the twelfth
-century, was at one time an even larger house than Knole, and to their
-own vault in its parish church of Withyham they were invariably brought
-to rest. Their trace is scattered over the two counties. But this was
-not my only meaning; I had in mind that Knole was no mere excrescence,
-no alien fabrication, no startling stranger seen between the beeches and
-the oaks. No other country but England could have produced it, and into
-no other country would it settle with such harmony and such quiet. The
-very trees have not been banished from the courtyards, but spread their
-green against the stone. From the top of a tower one looks down upon the
-acreage of roofs, and the effect is less that of a palace than of a
-jumbled village upon the hillside. It is not an incongruity like
-Blenheim or Chatsworth, foreign to the spirit of England. It is, rather,
-the greater relation of those small manor-houses which hide themselves
-away so innumerably among the counties, whether built of the grey stone
-of south-western England, or the brick of East Anglia, or merely
-tile-hung or plastered like the cottages. It is not utterly different
-from any of these. The great Palladian houses of the eighteenth century
-are _in_ England, they are not _of_ England, as are these irregular
-roofs, this easy straying up the contours of the hill, these cool
-coloured walls, these calm gables, and dark windows mirroring the sun.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER II
- The Garden and Park
-
-
- § i
-
-You come out of the cool shadowy house on to the warm garden, in the
-summer, and there is a scared flutter of white pigeons up to the roof as
-you open the door. You have to look twice before you are sure whether
-they are pigeons or magnolias. The turf is of the most brilliant green;
-there is a sound of bees in the limes; the heat quivers like watered
-gauze above the ridge of the lawn. The garden is entirely enclosed by a
-high wall of rag, very massively built, and which perhaps dates back to
-the time of the archbishops; its presence, I think, gives a curious
-sense of seclusion and quiet. Inside the walls are herbaceous borders on
-either side of long green walks, and little square orchards planted with
-very old apple-trees, under which grow iris, snapdragon, larkspur,
-pansies, and such-like humble flowers. There are also interior walls,
-with rounded archways through which one catches a sight of the house, so
-that the garden is conveniently divided up into sections without any
-loss of the homogeneity of the whole. Half of the garden, roughly
-speaking, is formal; the other half is woodland, called the Wilderness,
-mostly of beech and chestnut, threaded by mossy paths which in spring
-are thick with bluebells and daffodils.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- _Airco Aerials Ltd._
-
- KNOLE FROM AN AEROPLANE
-]
-
-The old engravings show the gardens to have been, from the seventeenth
-century onwards, very much the same as they are at present. There are a
-few minor variations, but as the early engravers were not very
-particular as to accuracy their evidence cannot be accepted as wholly
-reliable. We have, besides these engravings, a fairly large number of
-records relating to both the park and gardens. The earliest of these
-that I have been able to trace is dated 1456, to the effect that
-Archbishop Bourchier in that year enclosed the park—a smaller area then
-than is covered by it now; and in 1468 there is a bill, “Paid for making
-1000 palings for the enclosure of the Knole land, 6_s._ 8_d._” But the
-first accounts for the garden proper appear to date from the reign of
-Henry VIII (State papers of Henry VIII), when, in 1543, Sir Richard
-Longe was paid “for making the King’s garden at Knole.” Then there is a
-gap of nearly a century, save for the references to the garden in Lady
-Anne Clifford’s Diary, such as “_25th October, 1617_. My Lady Lisle and
-my Coz: Barbara Sidney [came?] and I walked with them all the Wilderness
-over. They saw the Child and much commended her. I gave them some
-marmalade of quince, for about this time I made much of it”; and her
-constant notes of how she took her prayer-book “up to the standing”
-[which I take to be what we now call the Duchess’ Seat], or of how she
-picked cherries in the garden with the French page, and he told her how
-he thought that all the men in the house loved her. For the year 1692,
-however, there are some bills among the Knole papers, such as “Mr.
-Olloynes, gardener, wages £12 per annum,” and some bills for seeds and
-roots, “Sweet yerbs, pawsley, sorrill, spinnig, spruts, leeks, sallet,
-horse-rydish, jerusalem hawty-chorks,” and another bill for seeds for
-£2. 0_s._ 5_d._ Coming to the eighteenth century, there are more
-detailed accounts, amongst others an agreement of what was expected in
-those days of a head gardener and the remuneration he might hope to
-receive:
-
- _14th Aug., 1706._ Ric. Baker, Gardener with Lionel Earl of Dorset and
- Middlesex. To serve his Lordship as Gardener at Knole for the term of
- one year ½ to begin in March 1706. That he will reserve all the fruit
- which shall be growing in the garden for his Lordship’s use. That he
- will at his own charge during the said term preserve all Trees and
- Greens now in the garden, and will maintain the trees in good
- husbandlike manner by pruning and trimming, dunging and marling the
- same in seasonable times, and likewise at his own charge will provide
- all herbs and other things convenient for my Lord’s kitchen there when
- in season. He undertakes to maintain at his own charge all such walks
- as are now in ye said Garden, by mowing, cleaning, and rolling the
- same, and will preserve all such flowers and plants as are now in the
- gardens, and that he will be at all the charges of repairing all the
- glass frames, etc. belonging to the Garden Trade, and will provide for
- the present use of the Gardens 50 loads of dung.
-
-In return for this service he was to be allowed £30 per annum, and
-
- rooms and conveniences in the house for his business, and to hand all
- such dung, etc. as shall be made about the house for the use of ye
- gardens, and that he may have the privilege of disposing [for his own
- use] all such beans, peas, cabbages, and other kitchen herbs as shall
- be spared, over and above that what is used in my Lord’s kitchen.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE GARDEN SIDE (SOUTH FRONT)
-]
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- _April 28, 1718._
- Planting trees in new Oak Walk, 5 men, 8 to 18 days
- each 3 12 4
- Planting walnut trees round the Keeper’s lodge, 3 men,
- 5 days each at 1/2 each per day 0 17 6
- Cutting Bows in the yew at end of new Oak Walk 0 2 4
-
- _November 11, 1723._
- Cutting and levelling new walk in ye Wilderness and
- making ye mount round ye Oak tree, 8 men, 5 to 11
- days each 3 10 0
- Alterations made in the Fruit Walks, 16 men, from 14 to
- 43 days each 23 19 10
- Cutting 10,600 turfs at 8_d._ per 100 3 10 8
- Planting ye quarry in the Park 6 7 0
- 10 May Duke Cherries in ye garden 0 6 8
- 6 peach and nectarine trees in ye garden 0 12 0
- 2400 quick-set for ye kitchen garden 0 12 0
- 1000 holly for ye kitchen garden 0 10 0
- Planting 2000 small beeches in ye park 0 18 6
- 200 Pear stocks 0 6 0
- 300 Crab stocks 0 3 0
- 200 Cherry stocks 0 6 0
- 500 Holly stocks 0 5 0
- 700 Hazel stocks 1 15 0
- For new making the Mulberry garden and sowing ye front
- walk with seed 14 12 9
- 20 Gascon Cherry trees 0 10 0
- 50 bushels sweet apples for cyder 2 10 0
- 1 bushel Buckwheat for ye Pheasants 0 3 6
- 10,000 seedling beeches for my Lady Germaine 0 10 0
-
- _December 24, 1726._
- Getting 80 load of ice and putting it in ye Ice House 1 15 3
-
- _June 15, 1728._
- Planting 160 Elms in field which was Dr. Lambarde’s
- next Tonbridge road and sowing the field with furze
- seed 7 9 3
-
- _April, 1730._
- 1000 Asparagus plants from Gravesend 1 0 0
- 2 doz. Apricots 0 2 0
- 300 beeches 8ft. high 1 15 0
- 250 large beeches planted in ye Park 3 10 0
-
-It is not very clear where such a large number of fruit trees were to be
-used, but on an engraving of about 1720 I find a wall extending right
-across the garden to the two stone pillars which, surmounted by carved
-stone urns, still remain, this wall being planted with fruit trees, so I
-should think it very probable that this would account for it.
-
-In 1777 new hot-houses and “Pineries” were built, and £175 paid for “two
-hot-houses full stocked with pine apples and plants.”
-
-
- § ii
-
-Surrounding the house and gardens lies the park, with its valleys,
-hills, and woods, and its short brown turf closely bitten by deer and
-rabbits. Its beeches and bracken, its glades and valleys, greatly
-excited the admiration of Mrs. Ann Radcliffe, who visited it in the
-beginning of the nineteenth century, and she wrote with enthusiasm of
-shade rising above shade with _amazing_ and _magnificent_ grandeur, and
-of one beech in particular spreading “its light yet umbrageous fan” over
-a seat placed round the bole. With all its grandeur and luxuriance, she
-said, there was nothing about this beech heavy or formal; it was airy,
-though vast and majestic, and suggested an idea at once of the
-_strength_ and _fire_ of a _hero_. She would call a beech tree, she
-added, and this beech above every other, the hero of the forest, as the
-oak was called the king.
-
-As I have said, the park was first enclosed by Bourchier in 1456, the
-year in which he bought Knole on the 30th of June. In the muniments at
-Lambeth are a number of papers relating to the expenses of this great
-builder, and there is the interesting fact that glass-making was carried
-on in the park, and I only wish that more detailed accounts existed of
-this industry, which, thanks to the Huguenots, had been pretty widely
-introduced into the South of England. I should like to know exactly
-where their glass-foundry was, and whether they made use of the sand on
-the portion known as the Furze-field, now a rabbit warren; and I should
-also very much like to know whether—as seems probable—they supplied any
-of the glass for the windows in the house.
-
-It would appear that the park, now entirely under grass, was once
-ploughland, for there is at Knole a deed of the time of Richard
-Sackville, fifth Earl of Dorset—that is to say, the middle of the
-seventeenth century—which accords to four farmers “the liberty to plough
-anywhere in the Park except in the plain set out by my Lord and the
-ground in front of the house, and to take three crops, and it is agreed
-that one-third of each crop after it is severed from the ground shall be
-taken and carried away by my Lord for his own use. The third year, the
-farmers to sow the ground with grass seed if my Lord desires it, and
-they are to be at the charge of the seed, the tillage, and the harvest.”
-Later on, in the time of Charles I, hops were grown, not only around the
-park, but also in it. Women employed in picking the hops were paid 5_d._
-a day, but for cleaning and weeding the ground they only received 3_d._
-At this time also cattle were fed in the park during the summer, and
-belonging to the same date (about 1628) are the bills for “Moles caught,
-1½_d._ each”; “Mowing the meadows,” at the rate of 1_s._ 6_d._ per acre;
-“Making hay,” also at 1_s._ 6_d._ per acre; “Carriage of hay from the
-meadows to Knole barn,” 1_s._ 4_d._ per load; “one hay fork and 2 hay
-forks together,” 1_s._ 8_d._ For “hunting conies by night and ferret by
-day” 4_s._ was paid; the expenses involved by the “conies” for one year
-were exactly £10, which included £5 5_s._, a year’s wages for the
-“wariner”; but, on the other hand, this was money well expended, for the
-revenue from “conies sold” covers no less than a fifth part of the
-year’s total income. The “wariner,” although his £5 5_s._ a year hardly
-seems excessive, did better than the “wood-looker,” who, for his
-woodreeveship for a year, was paid only £2.
-
-The accounts of how and when the various outlying portions of the park
-were taken in can only be of local interest, and I do not therefore
-propose to go into them. They were mostly bought by John Frederick, the
-third duke, and by Lord Whitworth, who had married John Frederick’s
-widow. The ruins round the queer little sham Gothic house called the
-Bird House—which always frightened me as a child because I thought it
-looked like the witch’s house in Hansel and Gretel, tucked away in its
-hollow, with its pointed gables—were built for John Frederick’s
-grandfather about 1761, by one Captain Robert Smith, who had fought at
-Minden under Lord George Sackville, of disastrous notoriety, and who
-lived for some time at Knole, a parasite upon the house; they apparently
-purport to be the remains of some vast house, in defiance of the fact
-that no upper storey or roof of proportionate dimensions could ever
-possibly have rested upon the flimsy structure of flint and rubble which
-constitute the ruins. They, together with the Bird House, form an
-amusing group of the whims and vanities of two different ages. But, to
-go back to the park, I conclude with the following letter, which is
-among the papers at Knole:
-
-[Illustration:
-
- A GATEWAY INTO THE GARDEN
-]
-
- _To his Grace the_ DUKE of DORSET.
-
- My Lord,
-
- I Elizabeth Hills sister and executor of Mrs. Anne Hills deceased of
- Under River in the Parish of Seal and whose corpse is to be interred
- in the Parish Church of Seal: but the High Road leading thereto by
- Godden Green being very bad and unsafe for carriages: I beg leave of
- yr Grace to permit the proper attendants to pass with the corpse, in a
- hearse with the coaches in attendance through Knole Park: entering the
- same at Faulke [_sic_] Common Gate and going out at the gate at Lock’s
- Bottom: and you’ll oblige
-
- Your Grace’s most obedient serv^t
- ELIZA HILLS.
-
- UNDER RIVER,
- _18 Oct., 1781_.
-
-
- § iii
-
-So much, then, for the setting; but it is no mere empty scene. The
-house, with its exits and entrances, its properties of furniture and
-necessities, its dressing-tables, its warming-pans, and its tiny silver
-eye-bath still standing between the hair-brushes—the house demands its
-population. Whose were the hands that have, by the constant light
-running of their fingers, polished the paint from the banisters? Whose
-were the feet that have worn down the flags of the hall and the stone
-passages? What child rode upon the ungainly rocking-horse? What young
-men exercised their muscles on the ropes of the great dumb-bell? Who
-were the men and women that, after a day’s riding or stitching, lay
-awake in the deep beds, idly watching between the curtains the play of
-the firelight, and the little round yellow discs cast upon walls and
-ceiling through the perforations of the tin canisters standing on the
-floor, containing the rush-lights?
-
-Thus the house wakes into a whispering life, and we resurrect the
-Sackvilles.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER III
- Knole in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth
- THOMAS SACKVILLE
- 1st
- Earl _of_ Dorset
-
-
- § i
-
-Such interest as the Sackvilles have lies, I think, in their being so
-representative. From generation to generation they might stand, fully
-equipped, as portraits from English history. Unless they are to be
-considered in this light they lose their purport; they merely share, as
-Byron wrote to one of their number:
-
- ... _with titled crowds the common lot,
- In life just gazed at, in the grave forgot ...
- The mouldering ’scutcheon, or the herald’s roll,
- That well-emblazoned but neglected scroll,
- Where lords, unhonoured, in the tomb may find
- One spot, to leave a worthless name behind:
- There sleep, unnoticed as the gloomy vaults
- That veil their dust, their follies, and their faults:
- A race with old armorial lists o’erspread
- In records destined never to be read_.
-
-But let them stand each as the prototype of his age, and at the same
-time as a link to carry on, not only the tradition but also the heredity
-of his race, and they immediately acquire a significance, a unity. You
-have first the grave Elizabethan, with the long, rather melancholy face,
-emerging from the oval frame above the black clothes and the white wand
-of office; you perceive all his severe integrity; you understand the
-intimidating austerity of the contribution he made to English letters.
-Undoubtedly a fine old man. You come down to his grandson: he is the
-Cavalier by Vandyck hanging in the hall, hand on hip, his flame-coloured
-doublet slashed across by the blue of the Garter; this is the man who
-raised a troop of horse off his own estates and vowed never to cross the
-threshold of his house into an England governed by the murderers of the
-King. You have next the florid, magnificent Charles, the fruit of the
-Restoration, poet, and patron of poets, prodigal, jovial, and
-licentious; you have him full-length, by Sir Godfrey Kneller, in his
-Garter robes and his enormous wig, his foot and fine calf well thrust
-forward; you have him less pompous and more intimate, wrapped in a
-dressing-gown of figured silk, the wig replaced by an Hogarthian turban;
-but it is still the same coarse face, with the heavy jowl and the
-twinkling eyes, the crony of Rochester and Sedley, the patron and host
-of Pope and Dryden, Prior and Killigrew. You come down to the eighteenth
-century. You have on Gainsborough’s canvas the beautiful, sensitive face
-of the gay and fickle duke, spoilt, feared, and propitiated by the women
-of London and Paris, the reputed lover of Marie Antoinette. You have his
-son, too fair and pretty a boy, the friend of Byron, killed in the
-hunting-field at the age of twenty-one, the last direct male of a race
-too prodigal, too amorous, too weak, too indolent, and too melancholy.
-
-
- § ii
-
-The Sackvilles are supposed to have gone into Normandy in the ninth
-century with Rollo the Dane, and to have settled in the neighbourhood of
-Dieppe, in a small town called Salcavilla, from which, obviously, they
-derived their name. Much as I relish the suggestion of this Norse
-origin, I am bound to add that the first of whom there is any authentic
-record is Herbrand de Sackville, contemporary with William the
-Conqueror, whom he accompanied to England. Descending from him is a long
-monotonous list of Sir Jordans, Sir Andrews, Sir Edwards, Sir Richards,
-carrying us through the Crusades, the French wars, and the wars of the
-Roses, but none of whom has the slightest interest until we get to Sir
-Richard Sackville, temp. Henry VIII-Elizabeth—from his wealth called
-Sackfill or Fillsack, though not, it appears, “either griping or
-penurious,” a man of some note, and thus qualified by Roger Ascham:
-“That worthy gentleman, that earnest favourer and furtherer of God’s
-true religion; that faithful servitor to his prince and country; a lover
-of learning and all learned men; wise in all doings; courteous to all
-persons, showing spite to none, doing good to many; and, as I well
-found, to me so fast a friend as I never lost the like before”; and in
-this same connection I may quote further from Ascham’s preface to _The
-Scholemaster_, in which he records a conversation which took place in
-1593 between himself and Sir Richard Sackville, when dining with Sir
-William Cecil: Sir Richard, after complaining of his own education by a
-bad schoolmaster, said, “But seeing it is but in vain to lament things
-past, and also wisdom to look to things to come, surely, God willing (if
-God lend me life), I will make this my mishap some occasion of good hap
-to little Robert Sackville, my son’s son; for whose bringing up I would
-gladly, if so please you, use specially your good advice.”... “I wish
-also,” says Ascham, “with all my heart, that young Mr. Robert Sackville
-may take that fruit of this labour that his worthy grandfather purposed
-he should have done. And if any other do take profit or pleasure hereby,
-they have cause to thank Mr. Robert Sackville, for whom specially this
-my Scholemaster was provided.”
-
-This Sir Richard was the founder of the family fortune, which was to be
-increased by his son and squandered after that by nearly all his
-descendants in succession. It was he who bought, in 1564, for the sum of
-£641 5_s._ 10½_d._, “the whole of the land lying between Bridewell and
-Water Lane from Fleet Street to the Thames.” This property, now of
-course of almost fabulous value, included the house then known as
-Salisbury House, having belonged to the see of Salisbury, which
-presently became Dorset House in 1603, and presently again was divided
-into Great Dorset House and Little Dorset House, as the London house of
-the Sackvilles. A wall enclosed house and gardens from the existing line
-of Salisbury Court south to the river, and shops and tenements in and
-near Fleet Street from St. Bride’s to Water Lane (Whitefriars Street).
-These were not the only London possessions of the Sackvilles. Later on
-they overflowed into the Strand, and another Dorset House sprang up, on
-the site of the present Treasury in Whitehall, to take the place of the
-older house in Salisbury Court, which had been destroyed in the Great
-Fire. It is idle and exasperating to speculate on the modern value of
-these City estates.
-
-Sir Richard Sackville died in 1566, when his son Thomas was already
-thirty years of age. Very little is known about Thomas’ early life; we
-only know that he went for a short time to Oxford (Hertford), and
-subsequently to the Inner Temple. While at Oxford he attracted some
-attention as a poet and writer of sonnets, but I have only been able to
-find one of these early sonnets, written for Hoby’s translation of the
-_Courtier of Count Baldessar Castilio_ (published in 1561), and which I
-quote, not so much for its worth as for its interest as a little-known
-work from the pen of one who, as the author of our earliest tragedy, has
-a certain renown:
-
- _These royal Kings, that rear up to the sky
- Their palace tops, and deck them all with gold:
- With rare and curious works they feed the eye,
- And show what riches here great princes hold.
- A rarer work, and richer far in worth,
- Castilio’s hand presenteth here to thee:
- No proud nor golden court doth he set forth
- But what in court a courtier ought to be.
- The prince he raiseth huge and mighty walls,
- Castilio frames a wight of noble fame:
- The King with gorgeous tissue clads his halls,
- The court with golden virtue decks the same
- Whose passing skill, lo, Hoby’s pen displays
- To Britain folk a work of worthy praise._
-
-But for the rest concerning these early poems one must take his
-contemporary Jasper Heywood’s eulogy on trust:
-
- _There Sackville’s sonnets sweetly sauced
- And featly finèd be._
-
-[Illustration:
-
- A CONFERENCE OF ENGLISH AND SPANISH PLENIPOTENTIARIES AT SOMERSET
- HOUSE IN 1604
-
- _From the painting by_ MARC GHEERHARDTS _at the National Portrait
- Gallery_
-
- At the top right-hand corner, nearest the window, Thomas Sackville,
- 1st Earl of Dorset, K.G., Lord High Treasurer of England
-]
-
-It seems that Sackville’s works were all written in the first half of
-his life, and that later on, as honours came to him, he altogether
-abandoned what might have been a first-rate literary career for a
-second-rate political one—more’s the pity. “A born poet,” says Mr.
-Gosse, “diverted from poetry by the pursuits of statesmanship.” He is a
-very good instance of the disadvantage of fine birth to a poet. But for
-the fact that he was born the Queen’s cousin, through the Boleyns, and
-the son of a father holding various distinguished offices, he might
-never have entered a political arena where he was destined to have as
-competitors such statesmen as Burleigh, and such favourites as Leicester
-and Essex. Amongst his contemporary poets, Surrey and Wyatt both died
-while Sackville was still a child; when Spenser was born, Sackville was
-already sixteen; when Sidney was born, he was eighteen; when Shakespeare
-was born, he was a full-grown man of twenty-eight. He had thus the good
-fortune to be born at a time when English poets of much standing were
-rare, an opportunity of which he might have taken greater advantage had
-not the accident of his birth persuaded him to abandon poetry for more
-serious things as the dilettantism of his youth. For he was
-comparatively young when he wrote both _Gorboduc_ and the _Induction_ to
-the _Mirror for Magistrates_. _Gorboduc_ was first performed by the
-gentlemen of the Inner Temple before the Queen in 1561, when Sackville
-was twenty-five, and the _Induction_ was first published in 1563, when
-he was twenty-seven; but already in or about 1557, when he was only just
-over twenty, he had composed the plan for the whole of the _Mirror for
-Magistrates_, intending to write it himself, although subsequently from
-want of leisure he left the composition of all but the induction or
-introduction, and the _Complaint of Henry, Duke of Buckingham_, to
-others.
-
-By the age of twenty-one, however, responsibilities were already upon
-him. He was married; and he was a member of Parliament, not merely once
-but twice over, as appears from the journals of the House of Commons:
-“For that Thomas Sackville, Esq., is returned for the County of
-Westmoreland, and also for the Borough of East Grinstead in Sussex, and
-doth personally appear for Westmoreland, it is required by this House
-that another person be returned for the said borough.” How this double
-election can have come about I cannot explain. It seems to have done him
-no harm in his parliamentary career; not only was he returned member for
-Aylesbury in 1563, but he took an active part in introducing bills, etc.
-About this time he went to travel in France and Italy, where for some
-mysterious reason he got himself thrown into prison; the reason was
-probably pecuniary, for we are told that he was “of the height of spirit
-inherent in his house,” and lived too magnificently for his means; so I
-think the assumption is in favour of his having got temporarily into
-debt. If, indeed, he shared in any measure the tastes of his
-descendants, nothing is more likely. Back in England again, the
-successes of his career rushed upon him. His father was just dead; he
-was the head of his family; he inherited its wealth and estates; he was
-at the propitious age of thirty; he was related to the Queen; he was
-marked out to prosper. Within the next thirty years or so he was,
-successively, knighted and created Lord Buckhurst of Buckhurst, in the
-county of Sussex; given the house and lands of Knole by the Queen, that
-she might have him near her court and councils; sent to France and the
-Netherlands as special ambassador from Elizabeth; made a Knight of the
-Garter; Chancellor of Oxford, where he sumptuously entertained the
-Queen; made Lord High Treasurer of England in 1599; High Steward of
-England at the trial of Essex, where he sat in state under a canopy and
-pronounced sentence and an exhortation, says Bacon, “with gravity and
-solemnity.” By this time, I imagine, he had in very truth become the
-grave and solemn personage one sees in all his portraits—not that his
-mind, even in early youth, can have been otherwise than grave and solemn
-if at the age of twenty he had been capable of imagining a vast poem on
-so dreary and Dantesque a plan as the _Mirror for Magistrates_, devised,
-says Morley in his _English Literature_, “to moralise those incidents of
-English history which warn the powerful of the unsteadiness of fortune
-by showing them, as in a mirror, that ‘who reckless rules, right soon
-may hap to rue.’” Also, from a letter written by Lord Buckhurst to Lord
-Walsingham, it is clear that he had no sympathy with ostentation, but
-only with honest worth: “And, Sir, I beseech you send over as few Court
-captains as may be; but that they may rather be furnished with captains
-here [in the Low Countries], such as by their worthiness and long
-service do merit it, and do further seek to shine in the field with
-virtue and valiance against the enemy than with gold lace and gay
-garments in Court at home.” In 1586 Lord Buckhurst was one of the forty
-appointed on the commission for the trial of Mary Stuart, and although
-his name is not amongst those who proceeded to Fotheringay, nor later in
-the Star Chamber at Westminster when she was condemned to death, yet he
-was sent to announce the sentence to death, and received from her in
-recognition of his tact and gentleness in conveying this news the
-triptych and carved group of the Procession to Calvary now on the altar
-in the chapel at Knole.
-
-He was, in fact, absent from none of the councils of the nation, and I
-have no doubt that he discharged his duties with all seriousness and
-honesty. Poetry—a frivolous pursuit—had long since been left behind. The
-poet had become the statesman. Nevertheless there were times when his
-very integrity was the cause of bringing him into disfavour with the
-intolerant mistress he served, notably on one occasion when he refused
-to take the part of Leicester and was indignantly confined to his house
-for nine or ten months by Royal mandate. And there was another occasion,
-amusing as showing the extreme simplicity in which even a man like Lord
-Buckhurst, who had the reputation of lavish living in his own day,
-conducted his daily life. Buckhurst, then being at the royal palace of
-Shene, was desired by the Queen to entertain Odet de Coligny, Cardinal
-of Chatillon, and did so, but with the result made clear in the
-following letter, of which I give extracts:
-
- _To the Right Honourable the Lords of her Majesty’s Privy Council be
- this delivered._
-
- My duty to your Lordships most humbly remembered.
-
- Returning yesterday to Shene, I received as from your Lordships how
- her highness stood greatly displeased with me, for that I had not in
- better sort entertained the Cardinal.
-
-He goes on to speak of his “great grief” and his “sorrowful heart,”
-especially, he says, “being to her Majesty as I am,” and proceeds with
-the attempt to justify himself for his supposed niggardliness:
-
- I brought them in to every part of the house that I possessed, and
- showed them all such stuff and furniture as I had. And where they
- required plate of me, I told them as troth is, that I had no plate at
- all. Such glass vessel as I had I offered them, which they thought too
- base; for napery I could not satisfy their turn, for they desired
- damask work for a long table, and I had none other but plain linen for
- a square table. The table whereon I dine myself I offered them, and
- for that it was a square table they refused it. One only tester and
- bedstead not occupied I had, and those I delivered for the Cardinal
- himself, and when we could not by any means in so short a time procure
- another bedstead for the bishop, I assigned them the bedstead on which
- my wife’s waiting women did lie, and laid them on the ground. Mine own
- basin and ewer I lent to the Cardinal and wanted myself. So did I the
- candlesticks for mine own table, with divers drinking glasses, small
- cushions, small pots for the kitchen, and sundry other such like
- trifles, although indeed I had no greater store of them than I
- presently occupied; and albeit this be not worthy the writing, yet
- mistrusting lest the misorder of some others in denying of such like
- kind of stuff not occupied by themselves, have been percase informed
- as towards me, I have thought good not to omit it. Long tables, forms,
- brass for the kitchen, and all such necessaries as could not be
- furnished by me, we took order to provide in the town; hangings and
- beds we received from the yeoman of the wardrobe at Richmond, and when
- we saw that napery and sheets could nowhere here be had, I sent word
- thereof to the officers at the Court, by which means we received from
- my lord of Leicester 2 pair of fine sheets for the Cardinal, and from
- my lord Chamberlain one pair of fine for the bishop, with 2 other
- coarser pair, and order beside for 10 pair more from London.
-
- At which time also because I would be sure your Lordships should be
- ascertained of the simpleness and scarcity of such stuff as I had
- here, I sent a man of mine to the Court, specially to declare to your
- Lordships that for plate, damask, napery and fine sheets, I had none
- at all and for the rest of my stuff neither was it such as with honour
- might furnish such a personage, nor yet had I any greater store
- thereof than I presently occupied, and he brought me this answer again
- from your Lordships that if I had it not I could not lend it. And yet
- all things being thus provided for, and the diet for his Lordship
- being also prepared, I sent word thereof to Mr. Kingesmele and
- thereupon the next day in the morning about nine of the clock the
- Cardinal came to Shene where I met and received him almost a quarter
- of a mile from the house, and when I had first brought the Cardinal to
- his lodging, and after the bishop to his, I thought good there to
- leave them to their repose. Thus having accommodated his Lordship as
- well as might be with so short a warning, I thought myself to have
- fully performed the meaning of your Lordships’ letters unto me, and
- because I had tidings the day before that a house of mine in the
- country by sudden chance was burned ... I took horse and rode the same
- night towards those places, where I found so much of my house burned
- as 200 marks will not repair....
-
-This is not at all in accordance with his reputation for hospitality:
-
- He kept house for forty and two years in an honourable proportion. For
- thirty years of these his family consisted of little less, in one
- place or another, than two hundred persons. But for more than twenty
- years, besides workmen and other hired, his number at the least hath
- been two hundred and twenty daily, as appeared upon check-role. A very
- rare example in this present age of ours, when housekeeping is so
- decayed.
-
-I think that this reputation, and the enormous sums which he spent upon
-the enlargement and beautifying of Knole, make all the more remarkable
-the statements in the foregoing letter: that he had neither napery,
-plate, nor sheets, and that in order to provide his guest with a basin
-and ewer he was obliged to do without them himself. It is apparent also
-from his will that he indulged himself in the luxury of various
-musicians, “some for the voice and some for the instrument, whom I have
-found to be honest in their behaviour and skilful in their profession,
-and who had often given me after the labour and painful travels of the
-day much recreation and contatation with their delightful harmony.”
-“Musicians,” it was said, “the most curious he could have,” so that in
-these extravagances he was not parsimonious, although he disregarded the
-common comforts of life.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- LEAD PIPE-HEADS
-
- _Put up by_ THOMAS SACKVILLE _in 1605_
-
- Figs. 1 to 4, Stone Court. Fig. 5, Over King’s Bedroom Window. Figs. 6
- and 7, South Front. Fig. 8, Stone Court. Fig. 9, Water Court.
-]
-
-In June 1566 Queen Elizabeth had presented him with Knole, but, because
-the house was then both let and sub-let, it was not until 1603 that he
-was able to take possession. Tradition says that the Queen bestowed
-Knole upon him because she wished to have him nearer to her court and
-councils, and to spare him the constant journey between London and
-Buckhurst, over the rough, clay-sodden roads of the Weald, at that date
-still an uncultivated and almost uninhabited district, where droves of
-wild swine rootled for acorns under the oaks. He does not appear to have
-spent very much time at Knole during the first years of his ownership,
-for in a letter written in September 1605, to Lord Salisbury, he says:
-“I go now to Horsley, and thence to Knole, where I was not but once in
-the first beginnings all the year, whence for three or four days to
-Buckhurst, where I was not these seven years.” This did not prevent him
-from spending a great deal of money on the house; unfortunately there is
-no record of what he spent between 1603 and 1607, but for the last ten
-months of his life alone there is a total, spent on buildings, material,
-and stock, for four thousand one hundred and seven pounds, eleven
-shillings, and ninepence—an equivalent, in round figures, to forty
-thousand of modern money. To account for these sums, it is known that he
-built the Great Staircase, transformed the Great Hall to its present
-state, and put in the plaster-work ceilings and marble chimney-pieces.
-He also put up the very lovely lead water-spouts in the courtyards.
-
-The good fortune of Lord Buckhurst did not come to an end with the death
-of Queen Elizabeth. He was one of those who travelled to meet the new
-King on his journey down from the North, was confirmed by him in his
-tenure of the office of Lord Treasurer, and early in the following year
-was created Earl of Dorset. The illuminated patents of creation are at
-Knole, showing portraits of both Elizabeth and James I, not very
-flattering to either; and the Lord Treasurer’s chest is at Knole
-likewise, a huge coffer covered in leather and thickly studded with
-large round-headed brass nails. There is a warrant, signed by him as
-Lord Treasurer, for increasing the duty on tobacco, “That tobacco, being
-a drug brought into England of late years in small quantities, was used
-and taken by the better sort only as physic to preserve health; but
-through evil custom and the toleration thereof that riotous and
-disorderly persons spent most of their time in that idle vanity.” This
-warrant, which is dated 1605, shows how little time had elapsed since
-its introduction before tobacco established its popularity.
-
-He was now advancing in years, and his own letters prove that his health
-was not very good. In one letter, written to Cecil, he complains that he
-cannot rest more than two or three hours in the night at most, also that
-he is constantly subject to rheums and cold and coughs, forced to defend
-himself with warmth, and to fly the air in cold or moist weathers. In
-another letter, also written to Cecil, he again complains of a cough,
-and says that he cannot come abroad for three or four days at least. But
-his devotion to his public affairs was greater than his attention to his
-health, for he says, “I have by the space of this month and more
-foreborne to take physic by reason of her Majesty’s business, and now
-having this only week left for physic I am resolved to prevent sickness,
-feeling myself altogether distempered and filled with humours, so as if
-her Majesty should miss me I beseech you in respect hereof to excuse
-me.” In 1607, when the old man was seventy-one, there was a report
-current in London that he was dead, but on the King sending him a
-diamond, and wishing that he might live so long as that ring would
-continue, “My Lord Treasurer,” says a letter dated June 1607, “revived
-again.” In the following year, however, he died dramatically in harness,
-of apoplexy while sitting at the Council table in Whitehall. His funeral
-service took place in Westminster Abbey, but his body was taken to
-Withyham, where it now lies buried in the vault of his ancestors.
-
-
- § iii
-
-I have dealt as briefly as possible with the Lord Treasurer’s life,
-because no one could pretend that the history of his embassies or his
-occupations of office could have any interest save to a student of the
-age of Elizabeth. But as a too-much-neglected poet I should like
-presently to quote the opinions of those well qualified to judge,
-showing that he was, at least, something of a pioneer in English
-literature—crude, of course, and uniformly gloomy; too gloomy to read,
-save as a labour of love or conscience; but nevertheless the author—or
-part-author—of the earliest English tragedy, and, in some passages, a
-poet of a certain sombre splendour. That he was a true poet, I think, is
-unquestionable, unlike his descendant Charles, who by virtue of one song
-in particular continues to survive in anthologies, but who was probably
-driven into verse by the fashion of his age rather than by any genuine
-urgency of creation.
-
-The tragedy of _Gorboduc_, whose title was afterwards altered to _Ferrex
-and Porrex_, was written in collaboration with Thomas Norton, although
-the exact share of each author is not precisely known and has been much
-argued.
-
- To the modern reader [says Professor Saintsbury] _Gorboduc_ is
- scarcely inviting, but that is not a condition of its attractiveness
- to its own contemporaries. [It] is of the most painful regularity; and
- the scrupulosity with which each of the rival princes is provided with
- a counsellor and a parasite to himself, and the other parts are
- allotted with similar fairness, reaches such a point that it is rather
- surprising that _Gorboduc_ was not provided with two queens—a good and
- a bad. But even these faults are perhaps less trying to the modern
- reader than the inchoate and unpolished condition of the metre in the
- choruses, and indeed in the blank verse dialogue. Here and there there
- are signs of the stateliness and poetical imagery of the _Induction_,
- but for the most part the decasyllables stop dead at their close and
- begin afresh at their beginning with a staccato movement and a dull
- monotony of cadence which is inexpressibly tedious.
-
-Professor Saintsbury rightly points out that the dullness of _Gorboduc_
-to our ideas is not a criterion of the effect it produced on readers of
-its own day. Sir Philip Sidney, for example, while excepting it from the
-particular charges he brings against all other English tragedies and
-comedies, and granting that “it is full of stately speeches and
-well-sounding phrases, climbing to the height of Seneca his style, and
-as full of notable morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and
-so obtain the very end of poesy,” finds fault with it in an unexpected
-quarter, namely, that it fails in two unities, of time and place, so
-that the modern criticism of its “painful regularity” was far from
-occurring to a mind intent upon a yet more rigorous form.
-
- In spite of its manifest imperfections [says the Cambridge Modern
- History], the tragedy of _Gorboduc_ has two supreme claims to
- honourable commemoration. It introduced Englishmen who knew no
- language but their own to an artistic conception of tragedy, and it
- revealed to them the true mode of tragic expression.
-
-I might also quote here the sonnet of a greater poet, who owed much, if
-not to _Gorboduc_, at least to the _Induction_—Edmund Spenser.
-
- _In vain I think, right honourable lord,
- By this rude rhyme to memorize thy name,
- Whose learnèd muse hath writ her own record
- In golden verse worthy immortal fame.
- Thou much more fit (were leisure to the same)
- Thy gracious sovereign’s praises to compile,
- And her imperial majesty to frame
- In lofty numbers and heroic style.
- But sith thou may’st not so, give leave awhile
- To baser wit his power therein to spend,
- Whose gross defaults thy dainty pen may file,
- And unadvisèd oversights amend.
- But evermore vouchsafe it to maintain
- Against vile Zoylus’ backbitings vain._
-
-There is also a sonnet by Joshua Sylvester, of which I will only quote
-the anagram prefixed to it:
-
- Sackvilus Comes Dorsetius
- _Vas Lucis_ _Esto decor Musis_
-
- Sacris Musis celo devotus
-
-But although there can scarcely be two opinions about _Gorboduc_—that it
-is sometimes noble, and always dull—Sackville’s two other poems, the
-_Induction_ to the _Mirror for Magistrates_ and the _Complaint of Henry
-Duke of Buckingham_, have never met with the recognition they deserve,
-save for the discriminating applause of men of letters. I do not say
-that they are works which can be read through with an unvarying degree
-of pleasure; there are stagnant passages which have to be waded through
-in between the more admirable portions. But such portions, when they are
-reached, do contain much of the genuine stuff of poetry, impressive
-imagery, a surprising absence of cumbersome expression—especially when
-the reader bears in mind that Sackville was writing before Spenser, and
-long before Marlowe—and a diction which is consistently dignified and
-suitable to the gravity of the theme. Take these stanzas for instance:
-
- _And first within the porch and jaws of hell
- Sat deep_ Remorse of Conscience, _all besprent
- With tears; and to herself oft would she tell
- Her wretchedness, and cursing never stent
- To sob and sigh; but ever thus lament,
- With thoughtful care, as she that, all in vain,
- Would wear and waste continually in pain_.
-
- _Next saw we_ Dread, _all trembling: how he shook
- With foot uncertain, proffered here and there,
- Benumbed of speech, and, with a ghastly look,
- Searched every place, all pale and dead for fear,
- His cap borne up with staring of his hair,
- ’Stoin’d and amazed at his own shade for dread
- And fearing greater dangers than he need_.
-
- _And next, in order sad_, Old Age _we found,
- His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind,
- With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,
- As on the place where Nature him assigned
- To rest, when that the sisters had untwined
- His vital thread, and ended with their knife
- The fleeting course of fast-declining life_.
-
-These stanzas are from the _Induction_. Or take the following from the
-_Complaint of the Duke of Buckingham_:
-
- _Midnight was come, and every vital thing
- With sweet sound sleep their weary limbs did rest;
- The beasts were still, the little birds that sing
- Now sweetly slept beside their mother’s breast,
- The old and all well shrouded in their nest;
- The waters calm, the cruel seas did cease,
- The woods, the fields, and all things held their peace._
-
- _The golden stars were whirled amid their race,
- And on the earth did with their twinkling light,
- When each thing nestled in his resting place,
- Forget day’s pain with pleasure of the night;
- The fearful deer of death stood not in doubt,
- The partridge dreamt not of the falcon’s foot._
-
-These quotations will give some kind of idea of Sackville’s matter and
-manner, and of the _Mirror_, which survives among the classic monuments
-of English poetry, says Courthope, only by virtue of the genius of
-Sackville. For the rest, not wishing to be thought prejudiced, I should
-like to quote copiously from Professor Saintsbury’s _Elizabethan
-Literature_, since therein is expressed, a great deal better than I
-could express it, my own view of Sackville’s poetry, and by calling in
-the testimony of so excellent, scholarly, and delightful an authority I
-may be freed from the charge of partiality which I should not at all
-like to incur.
-
- The next remarkable piece of work done in English poetry after
- Tottel’s _Miscellany_—a piece of work of greater actual poetic merit
- than anything in the _Miscellany_ itself—was ... the famous _Mirror
- for Magistrates_, or rather that part of it contributed by Thomas
- Sackville, Lord Buckhurst.... The _Induction_ and the _Complaint of
- Buckingham_, which Sackville furnished to it in 1559, though they were
- not published till four years later, completely outweigh all the rest
- in value. His contributions to the _Mirror for Magistrates_ contain
- the best poetry written in the English language between Chaucer and
- Spenser, and are most certainly the originals or at least the models
- of some of Spenser’s finest work. He has had but faint praise of late
- years.... I have little hesitation in saying that no more astonishing
- contribution to English poetry, when the due reservations of that
- historical criticism which is the life of all criticism are made, is
- to be found anywhere. The bulk is not great: twelve or fifteen hundred
- lines must cover the whole of it. The form is not new, being merely
- the 7–line stanza already familiar in Chaucer. The arrangement is in
- no way novel, combining as it does the allegorical presentment of
- embodied virtues, vices, and qualities with the melancholy narrative
- common in poets for many years before. But the poetical value of the
- whole is extraordinary. The two constituents of that value, the formal
- and the material, are represented here with a singular equality of
- development. There is nothing here of Wyatt’s floundering prosody,
- nothing of the well-intentioned doggerel in which Surrey himself
- indulges and in which his pupils simply revel. The cadences of the
- verse perfect, the imagery fresh and sharp, the presentation of nature
- singularly original, when it is compared with the battered copies of
- the poets with whom Sackville must have been most familiar, the
- followers of Chaucer from Occleeve to Hawes. Even the general plan of
- the poem—the weakest part of nearly all poems of this time—is
- extraordinarily effective and makes one sincerely sorry that
- Sackville’s taste or his other occupations did not permit him to carry
- out the whole scheme on his own account. The _Induction_, in which the
- author is brought face to face with Sorrow, and the central passages
- of the _Complaint of Buckingham_, have a depth and fullness of
- poetical sound and sense for which we must look backwards a hundred
- and fifty years, or forwards nearly five and twenty....
-
- He has not indeed the manifold music of Spenser—it would be
- unreasonable to expect that he should have it. But his stanzas are of
- remarkable melody, and they have about them a command, a completeness
- of accomplishment within the writer’s intentions, which is very
- noteworthy in so young a man. The extraordinary richness and
- stateliness of the measure has escaped no critic. There is indeed a
- certain one-sidedness about it, and a devil’s advocate might urge that
- a long poem couched in verse (let alone the subject) of such unbroken
- gloom would be intolerable. But Sackville did not write a long poem,
- and his complete command within his limits of the effect at which he
- evidently aimed is most remarkable.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE GREAT STAIRCASE (UPPER FLIGHT)
-
- _Built by_ THOMAS SACKVILLE, _1604–8_
-]
-
- The second thing to note about the poem is the extraordinary freshness
- and truth of its imagery. From a young poet we always expect
- second-hand presentations of nature, and in Sackville’s day
- second-hand presentation of nature had been elevated to the rank of a
- science.... It is perfectly clear that Thomas Sackville had, in the
- first place, a poetical eye to see, within as well as without, the
- objects of poetical presentment; in the second place, a poetical
- vocabulary in which to clothe the results of his seeing; and in the
- third place, a poetical ear by aid of which to arrange his language in
- the musical co-ordination necessary to poetry. Wyatt had been
- notoriously wanting in the last; Surrey had not been very obviously
- furnished with the first; and all three were not to be possessed by
- anyone else till Edmund Spenser arose to put Sackville’s lessons in
- practice on a wider scale and with a less monotonous lyre. It is
- possible that Sackville’s claims in drama may have been
- exaggerated—they have of late years rather been undervalued; but his
- claims in poetry proper can only be overlooked by those who decline to
- consider the most important part of poetry. In the subject of even his
- part of the _Mirror_ there is nothing new; there is only a following
- of Chaucer, and Gower, and Occleeve, and Lydgate, and Hawes, and many
- others. But in the handling there is one novelty which makes all
- others of no effect or interest: it is the novelty of a new poetry.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IV
- Knole in the Reign of James I
- RICHARD SACKVILLE
- 3rd
- Earl _of_ Dorset
- _and_
- LADY ANNE CLIFFORD
-
-
- § i
-
-It so happens that a remarkably complete record has been left of
-existence at Knole in the early seventeenth century—an existence
-compounded of extreme prodigality of living, tedium, and perpetual
-domestic quarrels. We have a private diary, in which every squabble and
-reconciliation between Lord and Lady Dorset is chronicled; every gown
-she wore; every wager he won or lost (and he made many); every book she
-read; every game she played at Knole with the steward or with the
-neighbours; every time she wept; every day she “sat still, thinking the
-time to be very tedious.” We have even a complete list of the servants
-and their functions, from Mr. Matthew Caldicott, my Lord’s favourite,
-down to John Morockoe, a Blackamoor. It would, out of this quantity of
-information, be possible to reconstruct a play of singular accuracy.
-
-The author of the diary was a lady of some fame and a great deal of
-character: Lady Anne Clifford, the daughter and sole heiress of George,
-Earl of Cumberland, and wife to Richard, Earl of Dorset. Cumberland was
-himself a picturesque figure. He was Elizabeth’s official champion at
-all jousts and tilting, a nobleman of great splendour, and in addition
-to this display of truly Elizabethan glitter and parade he had the other
-facet of Elizabethan _virtù_: the love of adventure, which carried him
-eleven times to sea, to the Indies and elsewhere, “for the service of
-Queen Elizabeth,” says his daughter in the life she wrote of him, “for
-the good of England, and of his own person.” She gives an account of her
-own appearance:
-
- I was very happy in my first constitution both in mind and body, both
- for internal and external endowments, for never was there child more
- equally resembling both father and mother than myself. The colour of
- mine eyes were black, like my father, and the form and aspect of them
- was quick and lively, like my mother’s; the hair of my head was brown
- and very thick, and so long that it reached to the calf of my legs
- when I stood upright, with a peak of hair on my forehead and a dimple
- in my chin like my father, full cheeks and round face like my mother,
- and an exquisite shape of body resembling my father.
-
-After this description, more remarkable for exactness perhaps than for
-modesty, she adds:
-
- But now time and age hath long since ended all these beauties, which
- are to be compared to the grass of the field (_Isaiah_ xl., 6, 7, 8;
- _1 Peter_ i., 24). For now when I caused these memorables of my self
- to be written I have passed the 63rd year of my age.
-
-Having put this in by way of a saving clause, she proceeds again
-complacently:
-
- And though I say it, the perfections of my mind were much above those
- of my body; I had a strong and copious memory, a sound judgement, and
- a discerning spirit, and so much of a strong imagination in me as that
- many times even my dreams and apprehensions beforehand proved to be
- true; so as old Mr. John Denham, a great astronomer, that sometime
- lived in my father’s house, would often say that I had much in me in
- nature to show that the sweet influences of the Pleiades and the bands
- of Orion were powerful both at my conception and my nativity.
-
-She was innocent of unnecessary diffidence. Yet she was not without
-gratitude:
-
- I must not forget to acknowledge that in my infancy and youth, and a
- great part of my life, I have escaped many dangers, both by fire and
- water, by passage in coaches and falls from horses, by burning fevers,
- and excessive extremity of bleeding many times to the great hazard of
- my life, all which, and many cunning and wicked devices of my enemies,
- I have escaped and passed through miraculously, and much the better by
- the help and prayers of my devout mother, who incessantly begged of
- God for my safety and preservation (_Jas._ v., 16).
-
-To her mother she seems to have been excessively devoted; and indeed, in
-the midst of this stubborn and peremptory character, the most vulnerable
-spot is her tenderness for her relations; those of her relations, that
-is to say, with whom she was not at mortal enmity.
-
-The death of Queen Elizabeth, which occurred when Anne Clifford was a
-girl of thirteen, was a disappointment to her in more ways than one, for
-“if Queen Elizabeth had lived she intended to prefer me to be of the
-Privy Chamber, for at that time there was as much hope and expectation
-of me as of any other young lady whatsoever,” and moreover “my Mother
-and Aunt of Warwick being mourners, I was not allowed to be one, because
-I was not high enough, which did much trouble me then.” She was not even
-allowed the privilege of watching by the great Queen’s body after it had
-come “by night in a Barge from Richmond to Whitehall, my Mother and a
-great Company of Ladies attending it, where it continued a great while
-standing in the Drawing Chamber, where it was watched all night by
-several Lords and Ladies, my Mother sitting up with it two or three
-nights, but my Lady would not give me leave to watch, by reason I was
-held too young.” It is to be regretted that the writer, who possessed so
-vivid and unself-conscious a pen, should have been thus defrauded of
-setting upon record the scene in which the old Queen, stiff as an
-effigy, and blazing with the jewels of England, lay for the last time in
-state, by the light of candles, among the great nobles whom in her
-lifetime she had bullied and governed, and whom even in death the
-rigidity of that bejezabelled presence could still overawe.
-
-Although she had not been allowed to see the dead Queen, Lady Anne was
-taken to see the new King, but did not find the court to her liking:
-
- We all went to Tibbalds to see the King, who used my Mother and Aunt
- very graciously, but we all saw a great change between the fashion of
- the Court as it is now and of that in the Queen’s time, for we were
- all lousy by sitting in the chamber of Sir Thomas Erskine.
-
-This unpropitious introduction was the first she had to James I, but it
-was by no means her last meeting with him, for she relates several later
-on which might more properly be called encounters.
-
-About two years after Elizabeth’s death Lord Cumberland died, “very
-patiently and willingly of a bloody flux,” leaving Anne Clifford his
-only surviving child and heiress, then being aged about fifteen years.
-Her father cannot have been much more than a name to her, for although
-“endowed with many perfections of nature befitting so noble a personage,
-as an excellent quickness of wit and apprehension, an active and strong
-body, and an affable disposition and behaviour,” he “fell to love a lady
-of quality,” which created a breach between himself and his wife, and
-“when my Mother and he did meet, their countenance did show the dislike
-they had one of another, yet he would speak to me in a slight fashion
-and give me his blessing.... My Father used to come to us sometimes at
-Clerkenwell, but not often, for he had at this time as it were wholly
-left my Mother, yet the house was kept still at his charge.” All this
-early part of her life, I ought to explain, is related by her in the
-Lives of her parents and herself, which she compiled in her old age; and
-partly from a diary of reminiscences, a transcript of which is at Knole,
-and which she appears to have written at the same time as the more
-detailed Diary which she was then (1616–1619) keeping from day to day.
-She had a happy childhood with her mother, and cousins of her own
-age—“All this time we were merry at North Hall. My Coz. Frances Bouchier
-and my Coz. Francis Russell and I did use to walk much in the garden,
-and were great with one another. I used to wear my Hair-coloured Velvet
-every day, and learned to sing and play on the Bass-Viol of Jack
-Jenkins, my Aunt’s boy.”
-
-The Diary at Knole jumps without any warning or transition from the
-reminiscences of youth to 1616. It begins with a sad little hint of the
-weariness that was to follow: “All the time I stayed in the country I
-was sometimes merry and sometimes sad, as I had news from London.” She
-had then been married for seven years to Richard Sackville, third Earl
-of Dorset, grandson to Queen Elizabeth’s old Treasurer, who was himself
-anxious for the match, writing to Sir George Moore about “that virtuous
-young lady, the Lady Anne Clifford,” and soliciting Moore’s good offices
-with Lady Cumberland.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- RICHARD SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET, K.G.
-
- _From the miniature by_ ISAAC OLIVER _in the Victoria and Albert
- Museum_
-]
-
-There were, in all, five children of the marriage: three little boys,
-who all “died young at Knole where they were born,” and two little
-girls, of whom Margaret, born in 1614, figures largely in the Diary and
-is the only one to concern us, since Isabel was not born till some years
-after Lady Anne had ceased to keep the Diary. Lady Anne’s mother
-travelled to London from the North in order to be present at the birth
-of Margaret, the first child; but by a strange mischance the journey was
-rendered vain, for, having gone “into the Tower of London to see some
-friends there, where, the gates being shut up by an accident that
-happened, she was kept there till after her daughter was delivered of
-her first child, though she had made a journey purposely from Appleby
-Castle, in Westmoreland, to London.” Not only does the Diary contain
-constant references to this little girl, but Lady Anne’s letters to her
-mother, now at Appleby, are rarely without some comment—
-
- she begins to break out very much upon her head, which I hope will
- make her very healthful [a curious theory]. She hath yet no teeth come
- out, but they are most of them swelled in the flesh, so that now and
- then they make her very froward. I have found your Ladyship’s words
- true about the nurse had for her, for she hath been one of the most
- unhealthfullest women that I think ever was, and so extremely troubled
- with the toothache and rheums and swelling in her face as could be,
- and one night she fell very ill, and was taken like an ague so as she
- had but little milk left, and so I was enforced to send for the next
- woman that was by to give my child suck, whom hath continued with her
- ever since, and I thank God the child agrees so well with her milk as
- may be, so I mean not to change her any more. It is a miracle to me
- that the child should prosper so well. She is but a little one, I
- confess, but a livelier and merrier thing was there never yet seen.
-
-Dorset also was fond of the little girl, for in other letters to her
-mother Anne says, after apologising for her bad writing, which she terms
-“scribbling,” “my Lord is as fond of her as can be, and calls her his
-mistress”; and again, “My Lord to her is a very kind, loving, and dear
-father, and in everything will I commend him, saving only in this
-business of my land, wherein I think some evil spirit works, for in this
-he is as violent as possible, so I must either do it next term or else
-break friendship and love with him”; and Dorset was, on his side, of the
-same opinion, for in a letter written to her at Knole, which begins
-“Sweet Heart,” and sends messages to the child, he adds to his wife,
-“whom in all things I love and hold a sober woman, your land only
-excepted, which transports you beyond yourself, and makes you devoid of
-all reason.” It would appear that but for this unfortunate question of
-the lands and money they might have lived happily together, affection
-not lacking, and on Anne’s part at any rate good will not lacking
-either, as witness her constant defence of him, even to her mother:
-
- It is true that they have brought their matters so about that I am in
- the greatest strait that ever poor creature was, but whatsoever you
- may think of my Lord, I have found him, do find him, and think I shall
- find him, the best and most worthy man that ever breathed, therefore,
- if it be possible, I beseech you, have a better opinion of him, if you
- know all I do, I am sure you would believe this that I write, but I
- durst not impart my mind about when I was with you, because I found
- you so bitter against him, or else I could have told you so many
- arguments of his goodness and worth that you should have seen it
- plainly yourself.
-
-They were married when she was nineteen and he was twenty, and two days
-after their marriage he succeeded to his father’s titles and estates:
-“We have no other news here but of weddings and burials, the Earl of
-Dorset died on Monday night leaving a heaire [?] widow God wot, and his
-son seeing him past hope the Saturday before married the Lady Anne
-Clifford.” In spite, however, of all they had to make life
-pleasant—their youth, their wealth, and the privileges of their
-position—they spent the succeeding years in making it as unpleasant as
-they possibly could for one another.
-
-I hardly think that it is necessary or even interesting to go into the
-legal details of the long dispute over Lord Cumberland’s will. The
-interest of Anne and Richard Dorset is human, not litigious. It may
-therefore be sufficient to say that by the terms of his will Lord
-Cumberland bequeathed the vast Clifford estates in Westmoreland to his
-brother Sir Francis Clifford, with the proviso that they should revert
-to Anne, his daughter, in the event of the failure of heirs male, a
-reversion which eventually took place, thirty-eight years after his
-death. What he does not appear to have realized was that the estates
-were already entailed upon Lady Anne; and that he was, by his will,
-illegally breaking an entail which dated back to the reign of Edward II.
-
-It is easy to judge, from this broad indication, the infinite
-possibilities for litigation amongst persons contentiously minded. Such
-persons were not lacking. There was Lady Cumberland, Anne’s mother, bent
-upon safeguarding the rights of her daughter. There was Francis, the new
-Earl of Cumberland, equally bent upon preserving what had been left to
-him by will. There was Richard Dorset, whose own fortune was not
-adequate to his extravagance, and who, having married an heiress, was
-determined for his own sake that that heiress should not be defrauded of
-her inheritance, or that, if she was to be defrauded, he at least should
-receive ample compensation. And finally there was Anne herself, who was
-more resolved than any of them that she and the North of England should
-not be parted. Dorset’s part, of the four, was the most elaborate and
-the most discreditable. He would have been willing for his wife to
-renounce some of her claims in return for the compromise of ready cash.
-Anne, however, remained single-hearted throughout: she was the legal
-heiress of the North, and the North she would have; and in the midst of
-the otherwise sordid and mercenary dispute, in which Dorset used every
-means of coercion, she remains fixed in her perfectly definite attitude
-of obstinacy, unswayed by her husband, his relations, her own relations,
-their friends, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the King himself, their
-remonstrances, their threats, their vindictiveness, and the actual
-injuries she had to endure over a long stretch of years. In the end she
-got the better of them all, and the last picture of her left by the
-“Lives” is that of a triumphant and imperious old lady, retired to the
-stronghold of her northern castles, where her authority could stand
-“against sectaries, almost against Parliaments and armies themselves”;
-refusing to go to court “unless she might wear blinkers”; moving with
-feudal, with almost royal, state between her many castles, from Appleby
-to Pendragon, from Pendragon to Brougham, from Brougham to Brough, from
-Brough to Skipton; building brew-houses, wash-houses, bake-houses,
-kitchens, stables; sending word to Cromwell that as fast as he should
-knock her castles about her ears she would surely put them up again;
-endowing almshouses; ruling over her almswomen and her tenants;
-receiving, like the patriarchal old despot that she was, the generations
-of her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- LADY ANNE CLIFFORD
-
- WIFE TO RICHARD SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ _Mytens_
-]
-
-Before she could reach these serene waters, however, she had many storms
-to weather, and to bear the “crosses and contradictions” which caused
-her to write “the marble pillars of Knole in Kent and Wilton in
-Wiltshire were to me oftentimes but the gay arbours of anguish.” Richard
-Sackville in his own day was a byword for extravagance, and was bent on
-extorting from his wife for the purposes of his own pleasure the utmost
-resources of her inheritance. His portrait is at Knole, a full-length by
-Van Somer; he has a pale, pointed face, dark hair growing in a peak, and
-small mean eyes, and is dressed entirely in black with enormous silver
-rosettes on his shoes. There is also the very beautiful miniature of him
-by Isaac Oliver in the Victoria and Albert Museum, showing the richness
-of his clothes, his embroidered stockings, and his hand resting upon the
-extravagantly-plumed helmet on the table beside him.
-
-His life is an empty record of gambling, cock-fighting, tilting; of
-balls and masques, women and fine clothes. “Above all they speak of the
-Earl of Dorset,” says a contemporary letter, after describing the
-lavishness of some of the costumes worn in a Court masque in which he
-was taking part, “but their extreme cost and riches make us all poor,”
-and Clarendon says of him, “his excess of expenditure, in all the ways
-to which money could be applied, was such that he so entirely consumed
-almost the whole great fortune which descended to him, that when he was
-forced to leave the title to his younger brother he left, in a manner,
-nothing to him to support it.” The enormous estates which he inherited,
-the careful accumulation of the old Lord Treasurer, he sold in great
-part, in order to squander the proceeds upon his amusements; before he
-had been in possession for three years he had sold the manor of
-Sevenoaks, and had “conveyed” Knole itself to one Henry Smith
-(retaining, however, the house at a rent of £100 a year for his own
-use), and in the course of rather less than ten years he had sold
-estates, including much of Fleet Street and the Manor of Holborn, to the
-value of £80,616, or nearly a million of modern money.
-
-In Aubrey’s _Bodleian Letters_ there is an anecdote concerning him, not
-devoid of humour:
-
- He [Sir Kenelm Digby] married that celebrated beauty and courtesan,
- Mrs. Venetia Stanley, whom Richard, Earl of Dorset, kept as his
- concubine, had children by her, and settled on her an annuity of £500
- per annum; which after Sir Kenelm Digby married her was unpaid by the
- Earl: Sir Kenelm Digby sued the Earl, after marriage, and recovered
- it. Venetia Stanley was a most beautiful and desirable creature ...
- sanguine and tractable, and of much suavity.
-
- In those days Richard, Earl of Dorset, lived in the greatest splendour
- of any nobleman of England.
-
- After her marriage she [Venetia Stanley] redeemed her honour by her
- strict living. Once a year the Earl of Dorset invited her and Sir
- Kenelm to dinner, where the Earl would behold her with much passion,
- yet only kiss her hand.
-
-Later on in his life a certain Lady Peneystone appears, who considerably
-complicated the already difficult relations between Anne and himself.
-
-Anne Clifford herself, in spite of all that she had to endure at his
-hands, gives a charitable account of him.
-
- This first lord of mine was in his own nature of a just mind, of a
- sweet disposition, and very valiant in his own person.
-
- He was ... so great a lover of scholars and soldiers, as that with an
- excessive bounty towards them, or indeed any of worth that were in
- distress, he did much to diminish his estate, as also with excessive
- prodigality in housekeeping, and other noble ways at court, as
- tilting, masqueing, and the like, Prince Henry being then alive, who
- was much addicted to these exercises, and of whom he was much beloved.
-
-What his wife says of his being a great lover of scholars is borne out
-by his friendship with and patronage of Beaumont, Ben Jonson, Fletcher,
-and Drayton. Nothing else remains to his credit. He is utterly
-eclipsed—weak, vain, and prodigal—by the interest of that woman of
-character, his wife, knowing so well to “discourse of all things, from
-predestination to slea[2] silk,” and by the faithful picture that is her
-Diary.
-
-
- § ii
-
-She is living (1616) principally at Knole, sometimes in London,
-sometimes making an expedition into the North to join her mother, who in
-all her difficulties was her counsellor and ally. The perpetual topic of
-the diary is the dispute with her husband:
-
- “My Coz: Russell came to me the same day, and chid me, and told me of
- all my faults and errors, he made me weep bitterly, then I spoke a
- prayer of Owens, and came home by water where I took an extreme Cold.”
-
- The Archbishop [of Canterbury] my Lord William Howard, my Lord Rous,
- my Coz: Russell, my brother Sackville, and a great company of men were
- all in the gallery at Dorset House, where the Archbishop took me aside
- and talked with me privately one hour and half, and persuaded me both
- by Divine and human means to set my hand to their arguments. But my
- answer to his Lordship was that I would do nothing until my Lady [her
- mother] and I had conferred together. Much persuasion was used by him
- and all the company, sometimes terrifying me and sometimes flattering
- me.
-
- Next day was a marvellous day to me, for it was generally thought that
- I must either have sealed the argument or else have parted from my
- Lord.
-
-She then starts for the North—a hazardous journey—to confer with her
-mother.
-
- We had two coaches in our company with four horses apiece and about
- twenty-six horsemen. I came to my lodgings [at Derby] with a heavy
- heart considering how many things stood between my Lord and I.
-
- We went from the Parsons’ House near the Dangerous Moors, being eight
- miles and afterwards the ways so dangerous the horses were fain to be
- taken out of the coach to be lifted down the hills. This day Rivers’
- horse fell from a bridge into the river. We came to Manchester about
- ten at night.
-
-Dorset was not above subjecting her to petty annoyances and
-humiliations, for he sends messengers after her with “letters to show it
-was my Lord’s pleasure that the men and horses should come away without
-me, so after much falling out betwixt my Lady [her mother] and them, all
-the folks went away, there being a paper drawn to show that they went
-away by my Lord’s direction and contrary to my will.[3] At night I sent
-two messengers to my folks to entreat them to stay. For some two nights
-my mother and I lay together, and had much talk about this business.”
-
-In order to get back to London she has to borrow a coach from her
-mother, from whom she takes a “grievous and heavy parting.” Arrived at
-Knole, “I had a cold welcome from my Lord,” and a day or two later he
-takes his departure for London, sending constant messengers and letters,
-to know whether she will give way to his demands. “About this time,” she
-sadly writes—it is April, spring at Knole, and she then aged
-twenty-six—“about this time I used to rise early in the morning and go
-to the Standing in the garden, and taking my prayer book with me beseech
-God to be merciful to me and to help me as He always hath done.”
-
-Meanwhile Dorset’s threats increase in virulence: on the first of May he
-sends Mr. Rivers to tell her she shall live neither at Knole nor at
-Bolbrook; on the second he sends Mr. Legg to tell the servants he will
-come down once more to see her, which shall be the last time; and on the
-third he sends Peter Basket, his gentleman of the horse, with a letter
-to say “it was his pleasure that the Child should go the next day to
-London ... when I considered that it would both make my Lord more angry
-with me and be worse for the Child I resolved to let her go; after I had
-sent for Mr. Legg and talked with him about that and other matters I
-wept bitterly.”
-
-On the fourth “... the Child went into the litter to go to London.”
-There is no comment. It must have been a pathetic little departure.
-
-On the ninth she received, besides the news that her mother was
-dangerously ill, “a letter from my Lord to let me know his determination
-was the Child should go to live at Horsley, and not come hither any
-more, so as this was a very grievous and sorrowful day to me.” An
-unusual bitterness escapes from her pen:
-
- All this time my Lord was in London where he had all and infinite
- great resort coming to him. He went much abroad to Cocking and Bowling
- Alleys, to plays and horse races, and commended by all the world. I
- stayed in the country, having many times a sorrowful and heavy heart,
- and being condemned by most folks because I would not consent to the
- agreement, so as I may truly say I am like an owl in the desert.
-
-And a few days later:
-
- My Lord came down from London, my Lord lying in Leslie Chamber and I
- in my own. My Lord and I after supper had some talk, we fell out and
- parted for that night.
-
-There was worse to come, for at the end of the month her mother died,
-“which I held as the greatest and most lamentable cross that could have
-befallen me,” and, mixed up with this sorrow, which is evidently
-genuine, is the fear that she may be definitely dispossessed of the
-inheritance of her forefathers. She found, however, that she had the
-disposal of the body, “which was some contentment to my aggrieved soul.”
-Her sorrows begin to lighten. Dorset, probably perceiving his bullying
-to be worse than useless against a woman of her mettle, tries a
-different tack: “My Lord assured me how kind and good a husband he would
-be to me”; they patch up a reconciliation, and she makes over to him
-certain of her Cumberland estates in default of heirs; they agree that
-Mrs. Bathurst, apparently a bone of contention, should “go away from the
-Child ... so that my Lord and I were never greater friends than at this
-time ... and my Lord brought me down to the coach side where we had a
-loving and kind parting.” He even joined her in the North, and she
-records how at Appleby Castle she set up the “green velvet bed where the
-same night we went to lie there,” and how “in the afternoon I wrought
-stitchwork and my Lord sat and read by me.”
-
-She gives many particulars of how she spent her days in the North. I
-fancy she was a good deal happier there, and more at home, and
-consequently more lighthearted, than at Knole. At the same time she was
-anxious to go back to London to rejoin Dorset, but this for some reason
-he was not disposed to allow. She consoled herself with innocuous
-occupations:
-
- This month I spent in working and reading. Mr. Dunbell read a great
- part of the _History of the Netherlands_.... Upon the 1st I rose by
- times in the morning and went up to the Pagan Tower to my prayers, and
- saw the sun rise.... Upon the 4th I sat in the Drawing Chamber all the
- day at my work.... Upon the 9th I sat at my work and heard Rivers and
- Marsh read Montaigne’s _Essays_, which book they have read almost this
- fortnight.... Upon the 12th I made an end of my cushion of Irish
- stitch, it being my chief help to pass away the time at work.... Upon
- the 21st was the first day I put on my black silk grogram gown....
- Upon the 20th I spent most of the day in playing at Tables. All this
- time since my Lord went away I wore my black Taffety night-gown[4] and
- a yellow Taffety waistcoat and used to rise betimes in the morning and
- walk upon the leads and afterwards to hear reading. Upon the 23rd I
- did string the pearls and diamonds left me by my mother into a
- necklace.
-
-At last the summons came, and “upon the 24th Basket set out from London
-to Brougham Castle to fetch me up. I bought of Mr. Cleborn who came to
-see me a clock and a save-Guard [= cloak] of cloth laced with black lace
-to keep me warm on my journey.” Dorset sent in the retinue to fetch her,
-moreover, a cook, a baker, and a Tom Fool.
-
-Her arrival in London was auspicious: Dorset and a company of relatives
-came out to meet her at Islington, so that there were in all ten or
-eleven coaches, and when she arrived at Dorset House she found the house
-“well dressed up against I came,” and the Child met her in the gallery.
-Moreover, “all this time of my being at London I was much sent to and
-visited by many” (the young heiress, whose matrimonial disputes had
-raised so much dust at Court, was an object of interest and curiosity),
-and she made friends: “My Lady Manners came in the morning to dress my
-head. I had a new black wrought Taffety gown which my Lady St. John’s
-tailor made. She used often to come to me, and I to her, and was very
-kind one to another.” Such troubles as she had were but slight: “I dined
-above in my chamber and wore my night-gown because I was not very well,
-which day and yesterday I forgot that it was fish day and ate flesh at
-both dinners. In the afternoon I played at Glecko[5] with my Lady Gray
-and lost £27 odd money.” So far, so good. She gave a sweet-bag to the
-Queen for a New Year’s gift, and was kissed by the King. She went to see
-the play of the Mad Lover; she went to the Tower to see Lord and Lady
-Somerset, lying there since their arraignment; she went to the Court to
-see Lord Villiers created Earl of Buckingham; she ate a “scrambling
-supper” and went to see the Masque on Twelfth Night. She betrays with an
-unsophisticated and rather charming ingenuity her delight in these
-things. But the storm scowled at her over the rim of the horizon, and
-presently it broke. The first entries are like the splash of the first
-big rain-drops: “We came from London to Knole; this night my Lord and I
-had a falling out about the land.” Next day she has Mr. Sandy’s book
-about the government of the Turks read aloud to her, but “my Lord sat
-the most part of the day reading in his closet.” Next day his sulks
-materialized, and he “went up to London upon the sudden, we not knowing
-it till the afternoon.”
-
-Six days later—there are no entries in the diary to record the suspense
-of these six days—she is sent for to London to see the King, a higher
-test for her strength of mind, even, than the former persuasions of the
-Archbishop of Canterbury. Will she capitulate at last? or will she come
-out with her flag still flying? the tongues of London wagged. The
-interview is best given in her own words:
-
- Upon the 17th when I came up, my Lord told me I must resolve to go to
- the King next day. Upon the 18th being Saturday, I went presently
- after dinner to the Queen to the Drawing Chamber where my Lady Derby
- told the Queen how my business stood, and that I was to go to the
- King, so she promised me she would do all the good in it she could.
- When I had stayed but a little while there I was sent for out, my Lord
- and I going through my Lord Buckingham’s chamber, who brought us into
- the King, being in the Drawing Chamber. He put out all those that were
- there, and my Lord and I kneeled by his chair side, when he persuaded
- us both to peace and to put the whole matter wholly into his hands,
- which my Lord consented to, but I beseeched His Majesty to pardon me
- _for that I would never part from Westmoreland while I lived upon any
- condition whatsoever_, sometimes he used fair means and persuasions
- and sometimes foul means, but I was resolved before, so, as nothing
- would move me, from the King we went to the Queen’s side, and brought
- my Lady St. John to her lodging and so we went home.
-
-There is a little note at the side of this entry: “The Queen gave me
-warning not to trust my matters absolutely to the King lest he should
-deceive me.”
-
-The affair was not allowed to rest there. Two days later she was again
-summoned before the King, and a sour, unedifying spectacle the majesty
-of James I must have presented, thus confronted with the young obstinacy
-of the heiress of Westmoreland:
-
- I was sent for up to the King into his Drawing Chamber, where the door
- was locked and nobody suffered to stay here but my Lord and I, my
- Uncle Cumberland, my Coz: Clifford, my Lords Arundel, Pembroke and
- Montgomery, Sir John Digby. For lawyers there were my Lord Chief
- Justice Montague, and Hobart Yelverton the King’s Solicitor, Sir
- Randal Crewe that was to speak for my Lord and I. The King asked us
- all if we would submit to his judgement in this case, my uncle
- Cumberland, my Coz: Clifford, and my Lord answered they would, but I
- would never agree to it without Westmoreland, at which the King grew
- in a great chaff. My Lord of Pembroke and the King’s solicitor
- speaking much against me, at last when they saw there was no remedy,
- my Lord, fearing the King would do me some public disgrace, desired
- Sir John Digby would open the door, who went out with me and persuaded
- me much to yield to the King. Presently after my Lord came from the
- King, when it was resolved that if I would not come to an agreement
- there should be an agreement made without me.
-
-After these encounters she retired to Knole, while Dorset remained in
-London, “being in extraordinary grace and favour with the King.” She,
-poor thing, resumed at Knole the pitiful monotony of her country
-existence, which to a mind so vigorous must have been irksome in the
-extreme, and the Diary becomes again the record of her small occupations
-threaded with the worry and sorrow of her dissensions with her husband.
-It is illuminating that she never criticizes him; there are references
-to his “worth and nobleness of disposition”; her spirit, although high
-and emancipated enough to stand out against the King in the defence of
-Westmoreland, could not conceive revolt against the subjection of
-matrimony. It is an idea which never once enters her head. She even
-writes him a letter to give him “humble thanks for his noble usage
-toward me in London”; but a very little while after this “Thomas
-Woodgate came from London and brought a squirrel to the Child, and my
-Lord wrote me a letter by which I perceived my Lord was clean out with
-me, and how much my enemies have wrought against me.”
-
-Conscientious as she is, she no longer finds enough events to justify a
-daily entry. Perhaps—who knows? for my part I strongly suspect it—her
-fighting spirit preferred even the ordeals and excitements of London to
-the tedium of Knole. She has very little to tell: only the gowns she
-wore, the books she read, the games she played with the steward, and the
-ailments of the Child.
-
- At this time I wore a plain green flannel gown that William Pinn made
- me and my yellow taffety waistcoat. Rivers used to read to me in
- Montaigne’s _Essays_, and Moll Neville in the _Fairy Queen_. The Child
- had a bitter fit of her ague again insomuch I was fearful of her that
- I could hardly sleep all night and I beseeched God Almighty to be
- merciful and spare her life.
-
-This ague of the Child’s is a constant preoccupation. I suppose that it
-was a kind of convulsion, for which the cure was a “salt powder to put
-in her beer.” On certain days a return of it appears to have been
-confidently expected, for I find: “upon the 4th should have been the
-Child’s fit, but she missed it,” and two days later she has “a grudging
-of her ague.” There is a good deal about the Child—never referred to
-under any other designation until she attains her 5th birthday, after
-which she is promoted to “my Lady Margaret.” The portrait of her which
-is here reproduced hangs over the fireplace in Lady Betty Germaine’s
-sitting-room; her ring dangles on a ribbon round her neck, and her hair
-is done in an elaborate manner which defied all my efforts, when I was
-the same age, to do my own in the same way.
-
-She was an amusement and a consolation, as well as a source of anxiety,
-to her mother. Her garments are carefully noted:
-
- The 28th was the first time the Child put on a pair of whalebone
- bodice.... The Child put on her red bays coat.... I cut the Child’s
- strings from off her coats and made her use togs alone, so as she had
- two or three falls at first but had no hurt with them.... The Child
- put on her first coats that were laced, with lace being of red
- bays.... I began to dress my head with a roll without a wire. I wrote
- not to my Lord because he wrote not to me since he went away. After
- supper I went out with the child who rode a pie-bald nag. The 14th,
- the Child came to lie with me which was the first time that ever she
- lay all night in a bed with me since she was born;
-
-and another time she speaks of “the time being very tedious with me, as
-having neither comfort nor company, only the Child.”
-
-For the rest, she was thrown back upon her own resources. Dorset came
-and went, and in between whiles there are small, vivid pictures of
-existence at Knole:
-
-[Illustration:
-
- LADY MARGARET SACKVILLE
-
- DAUGHTER OF RICHARD SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET, AND LADY ANNE
- CLIFFORD
-
- “THE CHILD”
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ MYTENS
-]
-
- After supper I walked in the garden and gathered cherries, and talked
- with Josiah [the French page] who told me he thought all the men in
- the house loved me.
-
-And again:
-
- About this time [April 1617] my Lord made the steward alter most of
- the rooms in the house and dress them up as fine as he could and
- determined to make all his old clothes in purple stuff for the Gallery
- and Drawing Chamber.
-
- _March 1617. 5th._ Couch puppied in the morning.
-
- _8th._ I made an end of reading _Exodus_. After supper I played at
- Glecko with the steward as I often do after dinner and supper.
-
- _9th._ I went abroad in the garden and said my prayers in the
- standing.
-
- _10th._ I was not well at night, so I ate a posset and went to bed.
-
- _11th._ The time grew tedious, so as I used to go to bed about 8
- o’clock I did lie a-bed till 8 the next morning.
-
- _14th._ I made an end of my Irish stitch cushion.
-
- _15th._ My Lord came down to Buckhurst. This day I put on my mourning
- grogram gown and intend to wear it till my mourning time is out,
- because I was found fault with for wearing such ill clothes.
-
- _22nd._ I began a new Irish stitch cushion.
-
- _24th._ We made Rosemary cakes.
-
-Two days later Dorset arrived from Buckhurst, and they walked together
-in the park and the garden. “I wrought much within doors and strived to
-sit as merry a face as I could upon a discontented heart”; but in spite
-of this entry they seem to have remained on fairly friendly terms until
-Easter.
-
- _30th._ I spent in walking and sitting in the park, having my mind
- more contented than it was before my Lord came from Buckhurst.
-
- _5th April._ My Lord went up to my closet and said how little money I
- had left contrary to all they had told him, sometimes I had fair words
- from him and sometimes foul, but I took all patiently, and did strive
- to give him as much content and assurance of my love as I could
- possibly, yet _I told him I would never part with Westmoreland_. After
- supper, because my Lord was sullen and not willing to go into the
- nursery, I had Mary bring the Child to him in my chamber.
-
- _7th._ My Lord lay in my chamber.
-
- _13th._ My Lord supped privately with me in the Drawing Chamber, and
- had much discourse of the manners of the folks at court.
-
- By the _17th_, My Lord told me he was resolved never to move me more
- in these business because he saw how fully I was bent;
-
-but evidently he did not stick to this good resolution, because, on
-April 20th, Easter-day, “My Lord and I had a great falling-out,” and a
-few days later, “This night my Lord should have lain with me, but he and
-I fell out about matters.”
-
-By the next day, however, they were friends again; they played at Burley
-Break upon the lawn; and “this night my Lord came to lie in my chamber.”
-The next day, too, was spent in peace, and she “spent the evening in
-working and going down to my Lord’s closet, where I sat and read much in
-the Turkish history, and Chaucer.”
-
-So it goes on. It becomes, perhaps, a little monotonous, save that it is
-always so human, and so modern. One sympathizes with her in her
-weaknesses even more than in her defiance; when, for instance, she
-writes amicable letters to all her relations-in-law, sending them locks
-of the Child’s hair, being “desirous to win the love of my Lord’s
-kindred by all the fair means I could,” in reality stealing a march upon
-Dorset in order to get them on her side. One day she chronicles, “This
-night I went into a bath,” but whether this event was of such rarity as
-to deserve special mention is not explained. At Whitsuntide they all
-went to church, but “my eyes were so blubbered with weeping that I could
-scarce look up,” and in the afternoon of the same day they again “fell
-out.” But she consoles herself with new clothes—or was that an
-additional penance? for she was never given to personal vanity—“I
-essayed on my sea-water green satin gown and my damask embroidered with
-gold, both which gowns the tailor which was sent from London made fit
-for me to wear with open ruffs after the French fashion.” Little
-peace-offerings came from time to time from Dorset; on one occasion he
-sends “half a buck, with an indifferent kind letter,” and on another
-occasion “My Lord sent Adam to trim the Child’s hair, and sent me the
-dewselts of two deer and wrote me a letter between kindness and
-unkindness.” “Still working and being extremely melancholy” is the entry
-of one summer day, and a day later, “Still working and sad.” A little
-after this she “rode on horseback to Withyham to see my Lord Treasurer’s
-tomb, and went down into the vault, and came home again [to Knole]
-weeping the most part of the day.” This is perhaps not very surprising.
-I have been down into that vault myself, and it is not a cheerful
-expedition. In a small, dark cave underground, beneath the church, among
-grey veils of cobwebs, the coffins of the Sackvilles are stacked on
-shelves; they go back to the fourteenth century, and are of all sizes,
-from full-grown men down to the tiny ones lapped in lead. But, of
-course, when Anne Clifford went there there were not so many as there
-are now; the pompous ones were not yet in their places, with their rusty
-coronets, save those of the old Treasurer and his son; and their blood
-did not run in the veins of Lady Anne, so on the whole she had less
-reason to be impressed than I.
-
-The Diary continues in very much the same strain until it comes to an
-end with December 1619, the year 1618 being entirely missed out. By that
-time both Dorset and Anne were in bad health; but whereas he was to die
-five years later, at the age of thirty-five, she, made of tougher stuff,
-was to survive him by fifty-two years. His last letter to her, written
-to her on the very day of his death, shows all the affection which was
-so undermined by that question of her lands:
-
- _26th March, 1624._
-
- Sweet Heart,
-
- I thank you for your letter. I had resolved to come down to Knole, and
- to have received the Blessed Sacrament, but God hath prevented it with
- sickness, for on Wednesday night I fell into a fit of casting, which
- held me long, then last night I had a fit of fever. I have for my
- physician Dr. Baskerville and Dr. Fox. I thank God I am now at good
- ease, having rested well this morning. I would not have you trouble
- yourself till I have occasion to send for you. You shall in the
- meantime hear daily from me. So, with my love to you, and God’s
- blessing and mine to both my children, I commend you to God’s
- protection.
-
- Your assured loving husband
- RICHARD DORSET.
-
-“His debts,” says one Chamberlain, writing to Sir Dudley Carleton, “are
-£60,000, so that he does not leave much.” In his will he bequeaths to
-his “dearly beloved wife all her wearing apparel and such rings and
-jewels as were hers on her marriage, and the rock ruby ring which I have
-given her,” also “my carriage made by Mefflyn, lined with green cloth
-and laced with green and black silk lace, and my six bay coach
-geldings.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE VENETIAN AMBASSADOR’S BEDROOM
-]
-
-
- § iii
-
-Her portraits change as her years advance, and the lines of
-determination harden about her mouth. Her true life—the life for which
-she was most truly fitted—only began after she had passed her fiftieth
-year, when with the death of her kinsman Lord Cumberland the northern
-estates passed calmly and naturally into her hands at last. All the
-quarrels and litigation and anxiety of her youth were left behind her;
-she had buried Lord Dorset; she had buried Lord Pembroke after a second
-marriage as disastrous and as contentious as the first; she had borne
-Sackville children and Herbert children; she had been long-suffering
-though adamant, submissive though immovable; she had moped in the
-sumptuous prisons that were Knole and Wilton; now she was free to turn
-tyrant herself over her own undisputed realm. She wasted nothing of the
-opportunity. Away from London, away from the influence of the Court,
-entrenched in her numerous castles in the North, she ruled
-autocratically over her servants, her tenants, her neighbours, and the
-generations and ramifications of her family. No detail of comings and
-goings, no penny of expenditure escaped her vigilant eye or her
-recording pen; and her diary, that document of intimacy, autocracy,
-piety, and exactitude, carries its entries down to the very day before
-her death. With public or political events she scarcely ever concerned
-herself, but on the other hand no detail of her own private life or of
-the existence of those around her was too small to excite her comment.
-Whether her laundry-maids went to church, whether she pared her finger
-and toe nails, whether her dog puppied, whether she received letters,
-whether she washed her feet and legs (this is on the 22nd of February,
-the last occasion being on the 13th of December preceding), whether she
-kissed the sempstress—all is noted with the same precision and gravity.
-No anniversary or coincidence is allowed to pass unobserved. That
-amazing memory extended back over threescore years; and, moreover, she
-had the immense volumes of her notebooks for reference, date for date.
-Her past was ever present to her, the agreeable and the disagreeable
-merged into one landscape of consonant tone, and whether she observes
-that this day sixty years ago she travelled with her blessed mother, or
-fell out with Dorset, it is with the same complacency and satisfaction
-at having the tiny anniversary to record. This vigorous mind was not,
-perhaps, planned on a very broad scale. It was self-centred and
-self-sufficient; severe but not reckless; no fine carelessness endears
-her to us, or surprises; even her acts of generosity, and they were
-numerous, are recorded with the same scrupulous accuracy. She could not
-give two shillings to a child without setting it down. Her generosity,
-like all her other acts, was methodical; she rewarded her servants for
-definite services with extra wages; she kept ready to hand a supply of
-little presents, because it was contrary to her ideas of hospitality
-that any visitor, however humble, should go away empty-handed, and was
-careful to consider what particular gift would be most acceptable to the
-recipient, frequently choosing something of practical utility, such as
-gloves or lengths of cloth for women, money or ruffles for men; and
-these idiosyncracies run true all through her character, for,
-conversely, although she was prepared to be generous in her treatment of
-others, she was equally determined that she herself should be fairly
-treated by them, and frequent are the entries in her diary to this
-effect: “In the morning did I see Mr. Robert Willison of Penrith paid
-for a rundlet of sack, but I was very angry with him because I thought
-it too dear, and told him I would have no more of him, and then he
-slipped away from me in a good hurry.” She would always pay cash too,
-and bullied her special almswomen, whom she would not allow to ask for
-credit with the tradesmen of Appleby.
-
-Her rights were her rights, and she had always had a great idea of them.
-One recognizes the spirit that told the King she “_would never be parted
-from Westmoreland_,” in the old litigant that went unhesitatingly and
-repeatedly to law over niceties connected with small portions of her
-estates, content to spend large sums of money in lawyers’ fees if only
-she could succeed—as she invariably did—in proving her point. There is
-one story which illustrates both her tenacity and her humour—the story
-of a certain tenant whose rent included a hen due yearly to the lady of
-the manor. This tribute he neglected to hand over. Lady Anne instantly
-had the law on him, spent £400 in enforcing her claim, won her case,
-received the hen, invited her defeated opponent to dinner with her, and
-caused the bird to be cooked for them both as the staple dish of the
-meal.
-
-So the tranquil and crowded years spun themselves out for her, and she
-grew to be an old woman and a contented one, for she had attained at
-last the existence and occupations best suited to her. Her life was
-full: the things which filled it were small things, perhaps, but if they
-satisfied her who should cavil? Her journeyings alone occupied much of
-her time: those extraordinary progresses from castle to castle, she
-herself travelling in her horse-litter, her ladies in the coach-and-six,
-her menservants on horseback, her women in other coaches, and a rabble
-of small fry following, so that the miniature army which accompanied her
-amounted sometimes to as many as three hundred. Often this retinue would
-include members of her family, or some of her neighbours; they travelled
-over the moors of the North, by rough roads, “uncouth and untrodden,
-those mountainous and almost impassable ways,” stopping on the way in
-those highland villages which had not yet been honoured by a visit from
-the great old lady or received her bounty, and, coming at the end of the
-journey to Brougham, to Brough, to Barden, to Skipton, to Pendragon, or
-to Appleby, Lady Anne would receive her dependants one by one in her own
-chamber, give her hand to the men, kiss the women, and dismiss them
-again to their own homes. Her health was no longer very good, but that
-was never allowed to deter her from her plans: her courage and vigour
-triumphed always over the treacherous flesh, greatly to the concern of
-those about her. On one occasion, travelling from Appleby to Brougham,
-she was delayed at the start by a “swounding fit,” when she had to be
-carried to a bed and laid there near a “great fire”; much persuasion was
-used that she “would not travel on so sharp and cold a day, but she,
-having before fixed on that day, and so much company being come
-purposely to wait on her, she would go.” As she reached her litter,
-however, she fainted again, “Yet as soon as that fit was over she went.”
-Arrived at Brougham she fainted for the third time, but on being
-upbraided by her friends and servants for her stubbornness in making the
-journey, she replied that she knew she must die, and it was the same
-thing to her to die on the way as in her house, in her litter or in her
-bed, and furthermore would not acknowledge any necessity why she should
-live, but saw every necessity for keeping to her resolution. “If she
-will, she will, you may depend on’t,” they said of her, “if she won’t,
-she won’t, and there’s an end on’t.”
-
-Now that there was no one to reproach her, as Dorset had been accustomed
-to reproach her, for her lack of finery and absence of proper vanity,
-she dressed always in rough black serge, she shaved her head, her fare
-was of the plainest, and her personal economy was pushed to the length
-of such small eccentricities as using up every stray scrap of paper for
-her correspondence. One luxury, indeed, she permitted herself: she
-smoked a pipe. Into all the details of her household she looked with a
-careful eye; already in the days when she was living at Knole she had
-used up Richard Dorset’s old shirts to make clouts, now at Appleby she
-saw to the preserving of fruit, she had her cheeses made at Brougham,
-sixteen at a time, she got her coal from her own pits, she had all
-delinquents into her own room and scolded them till they were probably
-thankful to be dismissed. At the same time she never forgot those that
-had served her faithfully; she would send her own coach to bring some
-old retainer to visit her; the marriages, morals, and vicissitudes of
-her meanest servant were a matter of interest to her; their marriage
-portions she made her own affair. Besides her servants, her own family
-gave her much food for thought and preoccupation: it is true that of her
-seven children only two—her two Sackville daughters—had lived to grow
-up, but they by now had produced a cohort of grandchildren, whose visits
-to Lady Anne were a source of infinite pleasure to the old lady. It is,
-altogether, a pleasant and seemly end to such a life. She had attained
-the great age of eighty-six; her diary was filled with religious
-references; she never dwelt upon her death, but it is clear that she can
-never for one moment have dreaded it. She had lived up consistently to
-her principles and to her motto: “Preserve your loyalty, defend your
-rights,” and was ready to go whenever the call should come. “I went not
-out all this day,” is the last entry in her diary, and the next day
-(22nd of March 1676), there is an entry in another hand, “The 22nd day
-the Countess died.”
-
-
- A Catalogue
-
-_of the Household, and Family of the Right Honourable_ RICHARD, EARL
-_of_ DORSET, _in the year of our Lord 1613; and so continued until the
-year 1624, at Knole, in Kent_.
-
-
- _At_ MY LORD’S TABLE
-
- My Lord
- My Lady
- My Lady Margaret
- My Lady Isabella
- Mr. Sackville
- Mr. Frost
- John Musgrave
- Thomas Garret
-
-
- _At_ THE PARLOUR TABLE
-
- Mrs. Field
- Mrs. Willoughby
- Mrs. Grimsditch
- Mrs. Stewkly
- Mrs. Fletcher
- Mrs. Wood
- Mr. Dupper, _Chaplain_
- Mr. Matthew Caldicott, _my Lord’s favourite_
- Mr. Edward Legge, _Steward_
- Mr. Peter Basket, _Gentleman of the Horse_
- Mr. Marsh, _Attendant on my Lady_
- Mr. Wooldridge
- Mr. Cheyney
- Mr. Duck, _Page_
- Mr. Josiah Cooper, _a Frenchman, Page_
- Mr. John Belgrave, _Page_
- Mr. Billingsley
- Mr. Graverner, _Gentleman Usher_
- Mr. Marshall, _Auditor_
- Mr. Edwards, _Secretary_
- Mr. Drake, _Attendant_
-
-
- _At_ THE CLERKS’ TABLE IN THE HALL
-
- Edward Fulks and John Edwards, _Clerks of the Kitchen_
- Edward Care, _Master Cook_
- William Smith, _Yeoman of the Buttery_
- Henry Keble, _Yeoman of the Pantry_
- John Mitchell, _Pastryman_
- Thomas Vinson, _Cook_
- John Elnor, _Cook_
- Ralph Hussie, _Cook_
- John Avery, _Usher of the Hall_
- Robert Elnor, _Slaughterman_
- Benjamin Staples, _Groom of the Great Chamber_
- Thomas Petley, _Brewer_
- William Turner, _Baker_
- Francis Steeling, _Gardener_
- Richard Wicking, Gardener
- Thomas Clements, _Under Brewer_
- Samuel Vans, _Caterer_
- Edward Small, _Groom of the Wardrobe_
- Samuel Southern, _Under Baker_
- Lowry, _a French boy_
-
-
- THE NURSERY
-
- Nurse Carpenter
- Widow Ben
- Jane Sisley
- Dorothy Pickenden
-
-
- _At_ THE LONG TABLE IN THE HALL
-
- Robert Care, _Attendant on my Lord_
- Mr. Gray, _Attendant likewise_
- Mr. Roger Cook, _Attendant on my Lady Margaret_
- Mr. Adam Bradford, _Barber_
- Mr. John Guy, _Groom of my Lord’s Bedchamber_
- Walter Comestone, _Attendant on my Lady_
- Edward Lane, _Scrivener_
- Mr. Thomas Poor, _Yeoman of the Wardrobe_
- Mr. Thomas Leonard, _Master Huntsman_
- Mr. Woodgate, _Yeoman of the Great Chamber_
- John Hall, _Falconer_
- James Flennel, _Yeoman of the Granary_
- Rawlinson, _Armourer_
- Moses Shonk, _Coachman_
- Anthony Ashly, _Groom of the Great Horse_
- Griffin Edwards, _Groom of my Lady’s Horse_
- Francis Turner, _Groom of the Great Horse_
- William Grynes, _Groom of the Great Horse_
- Acton Curvett, _Chief Footman_
- James Loveall, _Footman_
- Sampson Ashley, _Footman_
- William Petley, _Footman_
- Nicholas James, _Footman_
- Paschal Beard, _Footman_
- Elias Thomas, _Footman_
- Henry Spencer, _Farrier_
- Edward Goodsall
- John Sant, _the Steward’s Man_
- Ralph Wise, _Groom of the Stables_
- Thomas Petley, _Under Farrier_
- John Stephens, _the Chaplain’s Man_
- John Haite, _Groom for the Stranger’s Horse_
- Thomas Giles, _Groom of the Stables_
- Richard Thomas, _Groom of the Hall_
- Christopher Wood, _Groom of the Pantry_
- George Owen, _Huntsman_
- George Vigeon, _Huntsman_
- Thomas Grittan, _Groom of the Buttery_
- Solomon, _the Bird-Catcher_
- Richard Thornton, _the Coachman’s Man_
- Richard Pickenden, _Postillion_
- William Roberts, _Groom_
- The Armourer’s Man
- Ralph Wise, _his Servant_
- John Swift, _the Porter’s Man_
- John Atkins, _Men to carry wood_
- Clement Doory, _Men to carry wood_
-
-
- THE LAUNDRY-MAIDS’ TABLE
-
- Mrs. Judith Simpton
- Mrs. Grace Simpton
- Penelope Tutty, _the Lady Margaret’s Maid_
- Anne Mills, _Dairy-Maid_
- Prudence Bucher
- Anne Howse
- Faith Husband
- Elinor Thompson
- Goodwife Burton
- Grace Robinson, _a Blackamoor_
- Goodwife Small
- William Lewis, _Porter_
-
-
- KITCHEN AND SCULLERY
-
- Diggory Dyer
- Marfidy Snipt
- John Watson
- Thomas Harman
- Thomas Johnson
- John Morockoe, _a Blackamoor_
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER V
- Knole in the Reign of Charles I
- EDWARD SACKVILLE
- 4th
- Earl _of_ Dorset
-
-
- § i
-
-The wreckage of Richard’s estates devolved at his death upon his brother
-Edward, who at that time was travelling in Italy. This Edward Sackville
-was once to me the embodiment of Cavalier romance. At the age of
-thirteen I wrote an enormous novel about him and his two sons. He had
-the advantage of starting with Vandyck’s portrait in the hall, the
-flame-coloured doublet, the blue Garter, the characteristic swaggering
-attitude, the sword, the lovelocks, the key of office painted dangling
-from his hip and the actual key dangling on a ribbon from the frame of
-the picture—and then the account of his duel with Lord Bruce, his
-devotion to Charles I, the plundering raid of Cromwell’s soldiers into
-Knole, the murder of his younger son by the Roundheads, the picture of
-the two boys throwing dice—all this was a source of rich romance to a
-youthful imagination nourished on _Cyrano_ and _The Three Musketeers_. I
-used to steal up to the attics to examine the old nail-studded trunks
-from which the Roundheads had broken off the locks. There they were—the
-visible evidence of the old paper in the Muniment Room, which said,
-“They have broken open six trunks; in one of them was money; what is
-lost of it we know not, in regard the keeper of it is from home.” There
-they were, carelessly stacked: on one of them was stabbed the date in
-big nails, 1623; and there were others, curved to fit the roof of a
-barouche; of later date these, but all intimate and palpitating to a
-very ignorant child to whom the centuries meant Thomas or Richard or
-Edward Sackville; Holbein, Vandyck or Reynolds; farthingale chairs or
-love-seats. What were dates when the centuries went by generations? The
-battered trunks were stacked near the entrance to the hiding-place,
-which, without the smallest justification save an old candlestick and a
-rope-ladder found therein, I peopled with the fugitive figures of
-priests and Royalists. I peeped into the trunks: they contained only a
-dusty jumble of broken ironwork, some old books, some bits of hairy
-plaster fallen from the ceiling, some numbers of _Punch_ for 1850.
-Nevertheless, there were the gaping holes where the locks had been
-prised off the trunks, and the lid forced back upon the hinges by an
-impatient hand. Down in the Poets’ Parlour, where I lunched with my
-grandfather, taciturn unless he happened to crack one of his little
-stock-in-trade of jokes, Cromwell’s soldiers had held their Court of
-Sequestration. The Guard Room was empty of arms or armour, save for a
-few pikes and halberds, because Cromwell’s soldiers had taken all the
-armour away. The past mingled with the present in constant reminder; and
-out in the summer-house, after luncheon, with the bees blundering among
-the flowers of the Sunk Garden and the dragon-flies flashing over the
-pond, I returned to the immense ledger in which I was writing my novel,
-while Grandpapa retired to his little sitting-room and whittled
-paper-knives from the lids of cigar-boxes, and thought about—Heaven
-knows what _he_ thought about.
-
-Edward Sackville in the big Vandyck was indeed a handsome, rubicund
-figure, “beautiful, graceful, and vigorous ... the vices he had were of
-the age, which he was not stubborn enough to resist or to condemn.” What
-these vices were I do not know; the records of his life make no allusion
-to them. It is true that the cause of his duel remains a mystery; Lord
-Clarendon knew it, but beyond mentioning that it was fought on account
-of a lady, kept his own counsel. It is true also that his sister-in-law,
-Lady Anne Clifford, disliked him greatly and spoke of the malice he had
-always shown towards her; but then amicable relationship with Lady Anne
-was not easily sustained. On the face of it, his life seems to have been
-loyal and honourable: he suffered considerably for the sake of the cause
-he had at heart, and his few speeches and letters are full of reserve
-and dignity, supported by the facts of his own misfortunes; I do not see
-what more he could have done to deserve the adjective staunch. To me at
-thirteen he was very staunch and doughty, and one does not willingly go
-back on one’s first impressions. His wife, too, in the pointed
-stomacher, and the shoes with huge rosettes, governess to the royal
-children, voted a public funeral in Westminster Abbey, was another
-staunch figure: severe, uncompromising, but impeccable.
-
-The duel with Lord Bruce was fought when Edward Sackville was
-twenty-three years old, at Bergen-op-Zoom in Holland, which so late as
-1814 still went by the name of Bruceland. In the Knole Muniment room a
-paper cover was found upon which was written “The relation of my Lord’s
-duel with the Lord Bruce,” and the following are in all probability the
-papers originally contained therein. The “Worthy sir” to whom the letter
-is addressed remains anonymous, but was evidently some friend in
-England:
-
-[Illustration:
-
- EDWARD SACKVILLE, 4TH EARL OF DORSET, K.G.
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ VANDYCK
-]
-
- WORTHY SIR,
-
- As I am not ignorant, so I ought to be sensible of the false
- aspersions some authorless tongues have laid upon me in the reports of
- the unfortunate passage lately happened between the Lord Bruce and
- myself, which, as they are spread here, so I may justly fear they
- reign also where you are. There are but two ways to resolve doubts of
- this nature, by oath and by sword.
-
- The first is due to magistrates, and communicable to friends; the
- other to such as maliciously slander, and impudently defend their
- assertions. Your love, not my merit, assures me you hold me your
- friend; which esteem I am much desirous to retain. Do me, therefore,
- the right to understand the truth of that; and, in my behalf, inform
- others, who either are or may be infected with sinister rumours, much
- prejudicial to that fair opinion I desire to hold amongst all worthy
- persons; and, on the faith of a gentleman, the relation I shall give
- is neither more nor less than the bare truth. The enclosed contains
- the first citation sent me from Paris by a Scottish gentleman, who
- delivered it me in Derbyshire, at my father-in-law’s house. After it
- follows my then answer, returned him by the same bearer. The next is
- my accomplishment of my first promise, being a particular assignation
- of place and weapon, which I sent by a servant of mine, by post, from
- Rotterdam, as soon as I landed there, the receipt of which, joined
- with an acknowledgement of my fair carriage to the deceased Lord, is
- testified by the last, which periods the business till we met at
- Tergose, in Zealand, it being the place allotted for rendezvous; where
- he [accompanied with one Mr. Crawford, an English gentleman, for his
- second, a surgeon, and his man] arrived with all the speed he could.
- And there having rendered himself, I addressed my second, Sir John
- Heydon, to let him understand that now all following should be done by
- consent, as concerning the terms whereon we should fight, as also the
- place. To our seconds we gave power for their appointments, who agreed
- that we should go to Antwerp, from thence to Bergen-op-Zoom, where in
- the midway a village divides the States’ territories from the
- Archduke’s; and there was the destined stage, to the end, that, having
- ended, he that could might presently exempt himself from the justice
- of the country, by retiring into the dominion not offended. It was
- further concluded, that in case any should fall or slip, that then the
- combat should cease; and he, whose ill fortune had so subjected him,
- was to acknowledge his life to have been in the other’s hands. But in
- case one party’s sword should break, because that could only chance by
- hazard, it was agreed that the other should take no advantage, but
- either then be made friends, or else, upon even terms, go to it again.
- Thus these conclusions, being by each of them related to his party,
- were, by us, both approved and assented to. Accordingly we embarked
- for Antwerp; and by reason my Lord [as I conceive, because he could
- not handsomely without danger of discovery] had not paired the sword I
- sent him to Paris, bringing one of the same length, but twice as
- broad, my second excepted against it, and advised me to match my own,
- and send him the choice; which I obeyed, it being, you know, the
- challenger’s privilege to elect his weapon. At the delivery of the
- swords, which was performed by Sir John Heydon, it pleased the Lord
- Bruce to choose my own; and then, past expectation, he told him that
- he found himself so far behind-hand, as a little of my blood would not
- serve his turn; and therefore he was now resolved to have me alone,
- because he knew [for I will use his own words] that so worthy a
- gentleman, and my friend, could not endure to stand by, and see him do
- that which he must, to satisfy himself and his honour. Thereunto Sir
- John Heydon replied, that such intentions were bloody and butcherly,
- far unfitting so noble a personage, who should desire to bleed for
- reputation, not for life; withal adding, he thought himself injured,
- being come thus far, now to be prohibited from executing those
- honourable offices he came for. The Lord Bruce, for answer, only
- reiterated his former resolution; the which, not for matter, but for
- manner, so moved me, as though to my remembrance I had not for a long
- while eaten more liberally than at dinner; and therefore, unfit for
- such an action [seeing the surgeons hold a wound upon a full stomach
- much more dangerous than otherwise], I requested my second to certify
- him I would presently decide the difference, and should therefore meet
- him, on horseback, only waited on by our surgeons, they being unarmed.
- Together we rode [but one before the other some twelve score] about
- two English miles; and then Passion, having so weak an enemy to assail
- as my direction, easily became victor; and, using his power, made me
- obedient to his commands. I being very mad with anger the Lord Bruce
- should thirst after my life with a kind of assuredness, seeing I had
- come so far and needlessly to give him leave to regain his lost
- reputation, I bade him alight, which with all willingness he quickly
- granted; and there, in a meadow [ankle-deep in the water at least],
- bidding farewell to our doublets, in our shirts we began to charge
- each other, having afore commanded our surgeons to withdraw themselves
- a pretty distance from us; conjuring them besides, as they respected
- our favour or their own safeties, not to stir, but suffer us to
- execute our pleasure; we being fully resolved [God forgive us] to
- despatch each other by what means we could. I made a thrust at my
- enemy, but was short; and, in drawing back my arm, I received a great
- wound thereon, which I interpreted as a reward for my short shooting;
- but, in revenge, I pressed in to him, though I then missed him also;
- and then received a wound in my right pap, which passed level through
- my body, and almost to my back; and there we wrestled for the two
- greatest and dearest prizes we could ever expect, trial for honour and
- life; in which struggling, my hand, having but an ordinary glove on
- it, lost one of her servants, though the meanest, which hung by a
- skin, and, to sight, yet remaineth as before, and I am put in hope one
- day to recover the use of it again. But at last breathless, yet
- keeping our holds, there passed on both sides propositions for
- quitting each other’s sword. But, when Amity was dead, Confidence
- could not live, and who should quit first was the question, which on
- neither part either would perform; and, re-striving again afresh, with
- a kick and a wrench together I freed my long-captive weapon, which
- incontinently levying at his throat, being master still of his, I
- demanded if he would ask his life or yield his sword? Both which,
- though in that imminent danger, he bravely denied to do. Myself being
- wounded, and feeling loss of blood, having three conduits running on
- me, began to make me faint; and he courageously persisting not to
- accord to either of my propositions, remembrance of his former bloody
- desire, and feeling of my present estate, I struck at his heart; but,
- with his avoiding, missed my aim, yet passed through his body, and,
- drawing back my sword, repassed it through again through another
- place, when he cried, “Oh, I am slain!” seconding his speech with all
- the force he had to cast me. But being too weak, after I had defended
- his assault, I easily became master of him, laying him on his back;
- when being upon him, I redemanded if he would request his life? But it
- seems he prized it not at so dear a rate to be beholden for it,
- bravely replying “He scorned it!” which answer of his was so noble and
- worthy, as I protest I could not find in my heart to offer him any
- more violence, only keeping him down, till, at length, his surgeon
- afar off cried out, “He would immediately die if his wounds were not
- stopped!” whereupon I asked, “if he desired his surgeon should come?”
- which he accepted of; and so being drawn away, I never offered to take
- his sword, accounting it inhumane to rob a dead man, for so I held him
- to be. This thus ended, I retired to my surgeon, in whose arms, after
- I had remained awhile for want of blood, I lost my sight, and withal,
- as I then thought, my life also. But strong water and his diligence
- quickly recovered me; when I escaped a great danger, for my Lord’s
- surgeon, when nobody dreamt of it, came full at me with his Lord’s
- sword; and had not mine with my sword interposed himself, I had been
- slain by those base hands, although my Lord Bruce, weltering in his
- blood, and past all expectation of life, conformable to all his former
- carriage, which was undoubtedly noble, cried out “Rascal, hold thy
- hand!” So may I prosper, as I have dealt sincerely with you in this
- relation, which I pray you, with the enclosed letter, deliver to my
- Lord Chamberlain. And so, etc.,
-
- Yours,
- EDWARD SACKVILLE.
-
- LOVAIN, the _8th September, 1613_
-
-The citations or letters mentioned above to be enclosed in this account
-of Mr. Sackville are as follows:
-
- _A Monsieur, Monsieur_ SACKVILLE
-
- I, that am in France, hear how much you attribute to yourself in this
- time, that I have given the world to ring your praises; and for me the
- truest almanach to tell you how much I suffer. If you call to memory
- when, as I gave you my hand last, I told you I reserved the heart for
- a truer reconciliation, now be that noble gentleman my love once
- spoke, and come do him right that would recite the trials you owe your
- birth and country, where I am confident your honour gives you the same
- courage to do me right that it did to do me wrong. Be master of your
- weapons and time; the place wheresoever I wait on you. By doing this
- you shall shorten revenge, and clear the idle opinion the world hath
- of both our worths.
-
- ED. BRUCE.
-
- _A Monsieur, Monsieur Baron de_ KINLOSS
-
- As it shall be far from me to seek a quarrel, so will I also be ready
- to meet with any that is desirous to make trial of my valour, by so
- fair a course as you require; a witness whereof yourself shall be,
- who, within a month, shall receive a strict account of time, place and
- weapon, where you shall find me ready disposed to give honourable
- satisfaction by him that shall conduct you thither. In the meantime be
- as secret of the appointment as it seems you are desirous of it.
-
- ED. SACKVILLE.
-
- _A Monsieur, Monsieur Baron de_ KINLOSS
-
- I am at Torgose, a town in Zealand, to give what satisfaction your
- sword can render you, accompanied with a worthy gentleman for my
- second, in degree a Knight; and for your coming I will not limit you a
- peremptory day, but desire you to make a definite and speedy repair,
- for your own honour and fear of prevention, at which time you shall
- find me there.
-
- ED. SACKVILLE.
-
- TORGOSE, _10th August, 1613_
-
- _A Monsieur, Monsieur_ SACKVILLE
-
- I have received your letter by your man, and acknowledge you have
- dealt nobly with me, and I come with all possible haste to meet you.
-
- E. BRUCE.
-
-
- § ii
-
-Between this affair and the date of his succession to his brother
-Richard, Edward Sackville was employed on various missions: he sat in
-the House of Commons, he was twice sent as ambassador to Louis XIII, and
-he travelled in France and Italy. He was thus, when he succeeded, an
-experienced man of thirty-four, and he pursued, uninterruptedly, the
-sober path of office, now Lord Chamberlain, now Lord Privy Seal, now a
-Commissioner for planting Virginia, always in the confidence of the
-King, and his name affixed to State documents of the day in noble
-company. The disgraces and follies of his predecessors and of his
-descendants were not his lot, if that murderous duel is to be excepted.
-My flaming Cavalier, _flamberge au vent_, was in reality a sober and
-consistent gentleman; loyal, but not impetuous; prejudiced, but not
-blinded; devoted, but not afraid to speak his mind in criticism; and in
-support of this claim I shall presently quote from one of his speeches
-in which he argues against a continuance of the Civil War and pleads for
-a prompt reconciliation between the King and his Parliament. His
-judgment is acute, and his attitude remarkably sound and broad-minded.
-Yet at the same time his devotion to the King was such, that after
-Charles’ execution Lord Dorset never passed beyond the threshold of his
-own door.
-
-There are a few papers at Knole relating to the years before the war
-began, and from them one may gather some idea of the then manner of
-life, always remembering that Lord Dorset was much impoverished by the
-extravagance of his brother. The total income for the year 1628 from
-Knole and Sevenoaks was £100 18_s._ 6_d._—a fifth part of which was
-derived from the sale of rabbits. Some details of expenses are given in
-the account-books, besides those which I have already given in
-connection with the park in the second chapter:
-
- _Money spent on the pale in Knole Park for one year_ (£8 9_s._ 6_d._)
- _as follows_:
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- For filling, cleaning, and making six loads of pale
- rails, posts, and shores, two men 0 8 0
-
- Setting up panels of pales, blown down by the wind
- against Riverhill, 10_d._ day each man 0 5 0
-
- Paid a labourer for spreading the mole hills in the
- meads and for killing moles 0 4 3
-
-The steward of Sevenoaks was paid ten shillings a year, the bailiff of
-Sevenoaks £10, the steward of Seal £2 10_s._, the bailiff of Seal £4.
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- Four hundred nails for the pales 0 2 0
-
- Paid for setting up pales at mock-beech gate 0 0 8
-
- Paid toward repairing the market cross in
- Sevenoaks 6 8 4
-
-Portions of the park, such as were not already under cultivation of
-hops, were leased out to farmers for grazing:
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- _The joistment[6] of Knole Park, May 1629._
-
- Of William Bloom for 3 yearlings 1 0 0
-
- Of George Dennis for keeping 20 runts[7] 0 13 4
-
- Of Richard Wicking for his kines’ pasture 0 13 0
-
- Of Richard Fletcher for summering 2 colts 0 16 0
-
-There were other sources of revenue. Letters patent granted an
-imposition of 4_s._ per chaldron on all coal exported, to be divided
-among the Earl of Dorset, the Earl of Holland, and Sir Job Harby:
-
- COAL IMPOSITIONS
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- 6th May, 1634 4312 13 0
- Deduction for expenses 507 11 4
- Rest to be divided into thirds 3805 1 8
-
-That is to say, Dorset’s share would be £1268 7_s._ 8_d._, or more than
-£10,000 of modern money.
-
-He obtained also £100 a year by devising to Richard Gunnel and William
-Blagrave for four and a half years a piece of land at the lower end of
-Salisbury Court, Fleet Street, 140 feet in length and 42 feet in
-breadth, on condition that they should at their own expense put up a
-play-house. What would be the rent of such a piece of land now in Fleet
-Street? Certainly not £100.
-
-In spite of the fact that he complained constantly of his reduced
-income, Lord Dorset added considerably to the park. He obtained a long
-lease of Seal Chart, and “all woods and under-woods of the waste or
-common of the Manors of Seal and Kemsing, viz., upon Rumshott Common,
-Riverhill Common, Hubbard Hill Common, and Westwood Common ... in all at
-least 500 acres.”
-
-More entertaining is the acquisition of an overseas estate—no less than
-that part of the east coast of America which to-day includes New York,
-Boston, and Philadelphia. Those little manors in the neighbourhood of
-Sevenoaks, those 500 acres of common land, dwindle suddenly beside this
-formidable tenure. “An island called Sandy [Hook]” the petition casually
-begins:
-
- An island called Sandy, lying near the continent of America, in the
- height of 44 degrees, was lately discovered by one Rose, late master
- of a ship, who suffered shipwreck, and, finding no inhabitants, took
- possession. The Earl of Dorset prays a grant of the said island for
- thirty-one years, and that none may adventure thither but such as
- petitioner shall license.
-
-A second petition takes one’s breath away with its magnificent
-insolence:
-
- The Earl of Dorset to the King. Certain islands on the south of New
- England, viz: Long Island, Cole Island, Sandy Point, Hell Gates,
- Martin’s [? Martha’s] Vineyard, Elizabeth Islands, Block Island, with
- other islands near thereunto, were lately discovered by some of your
- Majesty’s subjects and are not yet inhabited by Christians. Prays a
- grant thereof with like powers of government as have been granted for
- other plantations in America.
-
-Underneath this is scribbled:
-
- Reference to the Attorney-General to prepare a grant. Whitehall, 20th
- Dec., 1637.
-
-One would wish to evoke for a brief hour the spectres of those of his
-Majesty’s subjects who found these localities uninhabited by Christians.
-
-Returning to Knole after this seems paltry; yet even there Lord Dorset
-was conducting his affairs on a proportionately large scale. He said
-himself that he spent £40,000 after his son’s marriage, and one can
-believe it when one reads a sample of the bill of fare provided for a
-banquet. At the top is written:
-
- To perfume the room often in the meal with orange flower water upon a
- hot pan. To have fresh bowls in every corner and flowers tied upon
- them, and sweet briar, stock, gilly-flowers, pinks, wallflowers and
- any other sweet flowers in glasses and pots in every window and
- chimney.
-
- BANQUET _at_ KNOLE _3rd July 1636_
-
- 1 Rice Pottage
-
- 2 Barley broth
-
- 3 Buttered pickrell
-
- 4 Butter and burned eggs
-
- 5 Boiled teats
-
- 6 Roast tongues
-
- 7 Bream
-
- 8 Perches
-
- 9 Chine of Veal roast
-
- 10 Hash of mutton with Anchovies
-
- 11 Gr. Pike
-
- 12 Fish chuits [_sic_]
-
- 13 Roast venison, in blood
-
- 14 Capons (2)
-
- 15 Wild ducks (3)
-
- 16 Salmon whole, hot
-
- 17 Tenches, boiled
-
- 18 Crabs
-
- 19 Tench pie
-
- 20 Venison pasty of a Doe
-
- 21 Swans (2)
-
- 22 Herons (3)
-
- 23 Cold lamb
-
- 24 Custard
-
- 25 Venison, boiled
-
- 26 Potatoes, stewed
-
- 27 Gr. salad
-
- 28 Redeeve [_sic_] pie, hot
-
- 29 Almond pudding
-
- 30 Made dishes
-
- 31 Boiled salad
-
- 32 Pig, whole
-
- 33 Rabbits
-
- _Another Menu_
-
- 1 Jelly of Tench, Jelly of Hartshorn
-
- 2 White Gingerbread
-
- 3 Puits [peewits]
-
- 4 Curlew
-
- 5 Ruffes [_sic_]
-
- 6 Fried perches
-
- 7 Fried Eels
-
- 8 Skirret Pie
-
- 9 Larks (3 doz.)
-
- 10 Plovers (12)
-
- 11 Teals (12)
-
- 12 Fried Pickrell
-
- 13 Fried tench
-
- 14 Salmon soused
-
- 15 Soused eel
-
- 16 Escanechia [_sic_]
-
- 17 Seagulls (6)
-
- 18 Ham of bacon
-
- 19 Sturgeon
-
- 20 Lark pie
-
- 21 Lobster pie
-
- 22 Crayfishes (3 doz.)
-
- 23 Dried tongues
-
- 24 Anchovies
-
- 25 Hartechocks [artichokes]
-
- 26 Peas
-
- 27 Fool
-
- 28 Second porridge
-
- 29 Reddeeve pie [_sic_]
-
- 30 Cherry tart
-
- 31 Laid tart
-
- 32 Carps (2)
-
- 33 Polony sasag [_sic_]
-
-There is also a list of “household stuff” dated the year of Lord
-Dorset’s succession.
-
- “A Note
- of household stuff sent by SYMONDES to KNOLE the 28th of July 1624.”
-
- _Packed up IMPRIMIS. A fustian down bed, bolster and a pair of
- in a pillows, a pair of Spanish blankets, 5 curtains of crimson
- fardel, and white taffeta, the valance to it of white satin
- viz.: in ye embroidered with crimson and white silk and a deep fringe
- black bed suitable; a test and tester of white satin suitable to the
- chamber_ valance. A white rug. All these first packed up in 2 sheets
- and then packed in a white and black rug and an old
- blanket.
-
- _Packed in IT: A feather bed and bolster, a pair of down pillows, 2
- another mattrasses, 5 curtains and valances of yellow cotton
- fardel, trimmed with blue and yellow silk fringes and lace
- viz.: next suitable, a tester to it suitable, a cushion case of yellow
- ye chapel satin, a pair of blankets to wrap these things in, there is
- chamber_ also in the fardel a yellow rug, and a white and black rug.
-
- _In ye IT: Two bedsteads whereof one of them is gilt, which with
- black the posts, tests, curtains, etc., are in all 11 parcels
- bedchamber_ whereof 4 are matted.
-
- _In ye IT: Packed up in mats 2 high stools, 2 low stools, and a
- black footstool of cloth of tissue and chair suitable.
- bedchamber_
-
- _Next ye IT: There goes a yellow satin chair and 3 stools, suitable
- Chaplain’s with their buckram covers to them. All the above written
- chamber_ came from Croxall.
-
- IT: Packed in mats my lady’s coach of cloth of silver, and
- 2 low stools that came from Croxall, and a said bag,
- wherein are 9 cups of crimson damask laid with silver
- parchment lace, and 6 gilt cups for my lord’s couch bed and
- canopy, and 8 gilt cups for the bed that came from Croxall.
-
- IT: In a wicker trunk, 2 brass branches for a dozen lights
- apiece; and 2 single branches with bosses and bucks heads
- to them, also a wooden box with screws for the said 2
- bedsteads, a dozen of spiggots to draw wine and beer, a
- bundle of marsh mallow roots, and 2 papers of almonds.
-
- IT: A round wicker basket, wherein are 9 dozen of pewter
- vessels of 9 sorts or sizes.
-
- IT: 4 back stools of crimson and yellow stuff with silk
- fringe suitable, covered with yellow baize.
-
- IT: 6 pairs of mats to mat chambers with gt 30 yards
- apiece.
-
- IT: 2 walnut tree tables to draw out at both ends with
- their frames of the same.
-
- IT: A round table and its frame.
-
- IT: 2 green broad cloth chairs, covered all over, laced,
- and set with green silk fringe and a back stool suitable,
- covered with green buckram.
-
- IT: A box containing 3 dozen of Venice glasses.
-
- IT: A basket wherein are 20 dozen of maple trenchers.
-
-And finally, for I fear lest the detailing of these old papers should
-grow wearisome, there is a letter which so well illustrates the humour,
-the coarseness, and the difficulties of life at that time, that I make
-no apology for including it:
-
- Letter
-
- from ELIZA COPE to her sister the COUNTESS _of_ BATH
-
- _19th Jan. 1639._ BREWERNE
-
- DEAR SISTER,
-
- I am glad to hear of your jollity. I could wish myself with you a
- little while sometimes. I have played at cards 4 or 5 times this
- Christmas myself, after supper, which makes me think I begin to turn
- gallant now. Some of my neighbours put a compliment upon me this
- Christmas, and told me the old Lady Cope would never be dead so long
- as I was alive, they liked their entertainment so well, when my gilt
- bowl went round amongst them, which saying pleased me very well, for
- she was a discreet woman and worthy the imitating. I am as well
- pleased to see my little man make legs and dance a galliard, as if I
- had seen the mask at Court. I am glad you got well home for we have
- had extreme ill weather almost ever since you went, but now I will
- take the benefit of this frost to go visit some of my neighbours on
- foot to-morrow about seven miles off, but I will have a coach and 6
- horses within a call, against I am weary. You know the old saying, it
- is good going on foot with a horse in the hand.
-
- Commend my service to your lord, and wishing to hear you were puking
- a-mornings I bid ye good-night in haste.
-
- Your faithful sister,
- ELIZA COPE.
-
-
- § iii
-
-On the approach of civil war there could be, of course, no doubt on
-which side the Earl of Dorset would range himself. He had been for many
-years closely connected with both the King and Henrietta Maria, and Lady
-Dorset stood in a yet more intimate relationship to the King and Queen
-as governess to their children. Since 1630, the date of the birth of
-Charles II, she had held this position, and from this little anecdote it
-may be judged that she was not so severe a preceptress as her portrait
-might lead one to suppose:
-
- Charles II, when a child, was weak in the legs, and ordered to wear
- steel boots. Their weight so annoyed him that he pined till recreation
- became labour—an old Rocker took off the steel boots and concealed
- them: promising the Countess of Dorset, who was Charles’ governess,
- that he would take any blame for the act on himself. Soon afterwards,
- the King, Charles I, coming into the nursery, and seeing the boy’s
- legs without the boots, angrily demanded who had done it. “It was I,
- Sir,” said the Rocker, “who had the honour some thirty years since to
- attend on your Highness in your infancy, when you had the same
- infirmity wherewith now the Prince, your very own son, is troubled—and
- then the Lady Cary, afterwards Countess of Monmouth, commanded your
- steel boots to be taken off, who, blessed be God, since have gathered
- strength and arrived at a good stature.”
-
-It is no small tribute to Lady Dorset’s integrity that after the
-outbreak of war she should have been continued in her office by
-Parliament.
-
-I have in my own possession a receipt signed by her for £125 for salary
-and expenses, 1641.
-
-War became imminent:
-
- “the citizens grow very tumultous and flock by troops daily to the
- Parliament ... they never cease yawling and crying “No Bishops, no
- Bishops!” My lord of Dorset is appointed to command the train-bands,
- but the citizens slight muskets charged with powder. I myself saw the
- Guard attempt to drive the citizens forth, but the citizens blustered
- at them and would not stir. I saw and heard my Lord of Dorset entreat
- them with his hat in his hand and yet the scoundrels would not move.”
-
-It is clear from contemporary documents that Lord Dorset was preparing
-to take an active part. He did, in fact, raise a troop which he equipped
-at his own expense, and with which he joined the King at York. But the
-old inventories give a list of residue arms and armour indicating a
-quantity originally more numerous than would be necessary to equip a
-small troop; the whole house must have been rifled to produce these
-weapons, all carefully listed, whether complete or incomplete,
-serviceable or not serviceable, old-fashioned or up to date. One can
-read between the lines of the list the anxiety that nothing should be
-omitted which could possibly be pressed into the service of the King.
-Among the armour at Knole at this date must have been the fine suit of
-tilting armour, formerly the property of the old Lord Treasurer, and now
-in the Wallace Collection, described as “a complete suit of armour ...
-richly decorated by bands and bordering, deeply etched and partly gilt
-with a scroll design ... the plain surfaces oxidised to a rich
-russet-brown known in inventories of the period as purple armour.” This
-suit, which is one of the gems of the Wallace Collection, had been made
-in 1575 by Jacob Topp or Jacobi for Sir Thomas Sackville.
-
- “An Inventory
- of such arms as are now remaining in the armoury at Knole belonging to
- the Rt. Hon. _EDWARD EARL_ of _DORSET_,
- _first the horsemen’s arms & necessaries belonging to them_:”
-
- Cornets for Horses 2
-
- Curasiers arms gilt 2
-
- Curasiers arms plain 31
-
- White tilting armour 3
-
- A baryears Armour gorget and gauntlet wanting 1
-
- Sham front for tilting Run plates for barryers 1
-
- Plated saddles suitable to the gilt arms and furniture rotten 2
-
- Old russet saddles trimmed with red leather and furniture
- defaulting 12
-
- Old russet and black saddles 12
-
- Black leather saddles with all furniture bits excepted 2
-
- Old French pistols, whereof four have locks the other 9 have none
- and double moulds to them 13
-
- Swords 14
-
- Horn flasks 49
-
- Whereof an old damask one cornered with velvet and many not
- serviceable Slight arms, back and breast 2 gorgets only to them 13
-
-
- _Arms and other necessaries for foot men_
-
- One engraven target 1
-
- Partisan rolled with red velvet and nailed with gilt nails and
- damasked with gold 1
-
- Partisans Damasked with Silver and the Cat on them [the Cat, _i.e._
- the leopard] 4
-
- Corslets with back breast cases and headpieces 138
-
- Spanish picks and English picks with Spanish heads whereof 4 are
- broken 151
-
- Comb head pieces 70
-
- Old Spanish morions 50
-
- Halberts 7
-
- Bits 6
-
- Full muskets complete 76
-
- Bastard muskets 56
-
- Muskets imperfect 4
-
- Noulds to the muskets 2
-
- New Rests 64
-
- Old Rests 7
-
- Bandeliers 36
-
- Barrels of match wanting 16 bundles 2
-
- (Signed) DORSET. _Jan. 1641_
-
-It was not very long before the Parliamentarians got wind of this hoard,
-and in August 1642 three troops of horse under the command of one
-Cornell Sandys rode into Kent, invaded Knole, took prisoner a Sir John
-Sackville whom they found in charge there, did a certain amount of rough
-damage, and carried off the contents of the armoury to London. The
-proceedings were thus officially reported:
-
-
- _Some_ SPECIAL & REMARKABLE PASSAGES
-
-_from both houses of_ PARLIAMENT _since Monday 15th of Aug. till Friday
-the 19th 1642_.
-
- Upon Saturday night last, the Lord General having information of a
- great quantity of Arms of the Earl of Dorset’s at his house at
- Sevenoaks, in Kent, in the custody of Sir John Sackville, which were
- to be disposed of by him to arm a great number of the malignant party
- of that County, to go to York to assist his Majesty; called a Council
- of War, to consider of the same, and about 12 of the clock at night
- sent out 3 troops of Horse into Kent to seize upon the said Arms;
- which they did accordingly on the Sunday following; and on the Monday
- brought the same to London and Sir John Sackville prisoner, there
- being complete arms for 500 or 600 men.
-
-Despite the outcry of plaintive indignation which went up from Knole,
-the House of Lords report proves that their conduct towards Lord Dorset
-over the incident was fair, lenient, and even generous:
-
- That the Arms of the Earl of Dorset which were at Knole House, are
- brought to Town, to be kept from being made use of against the
- Parliament,
-
-and therefore this House ordered,
-
- That such as are rich Arms shall not be made use of, but kept safely
- for the Earl of Dorset; but such as are fit to be made use of for the
- service of the Kingdom are to be employed; an Inventory to be taken,
- and money to be given to the Earl of Dorset in satisfaction thereof.
-
-Thus ran the official reports; but Knole, astonished, aggrieved, and
-outraged, drew up a fuller list of injuries. It was the first time rude
-voices had ever echoed within those venerable walls or rude hands
-rummaged among the sacred possessions, the first time that orders had
-been issued there by another than the master. The Parliament men had
-entered with arrogance, spoken with authority, gone beyond their
-warrant, and ransacked wantonly—for from what motive but wantonness
-could they have taken the plumes from the bed-tester or the cushions
-from his Lordship’s own room? or spoilt the oil in the Painter’s
-Chamber? or, indeed, broken forty locks, unless to overcome such slight
-resistance in an unnecessarily high-handed manner? No doubt the novelty
-of the experience turned their heads. Rhetorically they were the
-representatives of the English Parliament, that sober and tenacious
-senate, as stubborn now as at Runnymede, but in private life they were
-men, however insignificant hitherto to Lord Dorset, men who, when he
-passed with a swagger, murmured dully beneath their reluctant deference.
-The moment when, cantering up over the crest of the hill, they first saw
-the grey forbidding walls and drew rein before the massive door, their
-horses’ bits jingling and the restive hoofs pawing at the gravel, must
-indeed have been an experience. Likewise, to ring their spurs on the
-paving-stones of the courtyards, to pass from room to room followed by a
-protesting and impotent steward, to stare at the pictures, to lounge on
-the velvet chairs, to set out their ink and paper on the solid table of
-the parlour and to draw up their indictment. It was August; the rose
-planted beneath the window of a Stuart King to commemorate his visit was
-covered with its little white blossoms; the turf was smooth and green;
-the flowers were bright under the young apple-trees in the orchard; the
-beeches and chestnuts were deep and heavy with the fullness of summer.
-The austerity of the Roundheads surely stiffened in the soft summer
-spaciousness of Knole. The owner was absent: they had only his new
-portrait to gaze at, with scorn of his brilliant doublet and his curling
-hair.
-
-All things considered, I think that they showed commendable restraint in
-their behaviour:
-
-
- _The hurt done at_ KNOLE HOUSE _the 14 Day of August 1642 by the_
- COMPANY OF HORSEMEN _brought by_ CORNELL SANDYS:
-
- There are above forty stock locks and plated locks broken, which to
- make good will cost £10.
-
- There is of gold branches belonging to the couch in the rich gallery
- as much cut away as will not be made good for £40.
-
- And in my Lord’s chamber 12 long cushion-cases embroidered with satin
- and gold, and the plumes upon the bed-tester, to ye value of £30.
-
- They have broken open six trunks; in one of them was money; what is
- lost of it we know not, in regard the keeper of it is from home. They
- have spoiled in the Painter’s Chamber his oil, and other wrongs there
- to the value of £40.
-
- They have broke into Sir John his Granary and have taken of his oats
- and peas, to the quantity of three or four quarters £4.
-
- The arms they have wholly taken away, there being five waggon-loads of
- them.
-
-Nor was this the last time that the Parliamentarians came to Knole.
-Three years after these events Cromwell’s commissioners were installed
-there as the headquarters of the Court of Sequestration for Kent, and
-held their sessions in the Poets’ Parlour, when the Sackvilles were, for
-a short time, deprived of the property. On this occasion there is no
-record of any definite damage to the contents of the house, although a
-House of Commons notice for January 1645 ordered that “two-thirds of the
-goods and estates of the Earl of Dorset not exceeding the sum of £500
-now at Knole in the county of Kent, and lately discovered there, shall
-be employed for the use of the garrison at Dover Castle, towards the pay
-of their arrears.”
-
-Among the papers in the Muniment Room I find a letter of a later date
-from Sir Kenelm Digby to Lord Dorset, referring to some stolen pictures
-which he has been endeavouring to trace in Paris, and recommending to
-Lord Dorset a certain M. La Fontaine for “the much pains and running
-about he hath used,” suggesting that he should be rewarded with 20_s._
-and recommended to good customers to sell his “powders and cigeours.” I
-wonder inevitably whether the loss of these pictures had been due to any
-action of Cromwell or his commissioners? Sir Kenelm’s letter, which is
-long, rambling, and rather illegible, does not make any mention of the
-cause or date of the disappearance. Sir Kenelm is himself of greater
-interest, perhaps, than his letter or the pictures. An intimate friend
-of Lord Dorset’s, the author of several housewifely little treatises,
-such as _The Closet of Sir Kenelm Digby_ and _Choice and Experimental
-Receipts_, he was incidentally the husband of that Venetia Stanley whose
-lover Richard Sackville had been. (It has, I may mention, been suggested
-that Edward Sackville, not Richard, was the lover of Lady Digby; and
-having regard to what I know of Sir Kenelm’s character I should think it
-not inconsistent, even if this were so, that he should remain on most
-friendly terms with the former lover of his wife. He had, after all, not
-scrupled to sue Lord Dorset, whether Richard or Edward, for the
-continuance after marriage of Lady Digby’s pension of £500 a year.) Sir
-Kenelm’s portrait by Vandyck is at Knole in the Poets’ Parlour; he is a
-chubby little man, with a fat outspread hand, and dimples in the place
-of knuckles. At one period of the Civil War he suffered imprisonment,
-when Lord Dorset, wishing to beguile his friend’s tedium, advised him to
-read the recently published _Religio Medici_ of Sir Thomas Browne: Sir
-Kenelm took his advice, and was so much impressed as to embody his
-observations in a long letter to Lord Dorset, which was subsequently
-printed (1643) by “R. C. for Daniel Frere, to be sold at his shop at the
-Red Bull in Little Britain.” I happen to have the first editions of the
-_Religio Medici_ and the little companion volume of Sir Kenelm’s
-_Observations_: the former is heavily scored or commented by some
-appreciative reader, and attention is called in the margin to favourite
-passages by the drawing of a tiny hand with pointing finger, the wrist
-encircled by a cuff of _point de Venise_. Sir Kenelm esteemed his
-friend’s taste, and the “spirit and smartness” of the author, who set
-out upon his task so excellently poised with a happy temper. Towards the
-end of his discourse Sir Kenelm quite loses his sense of proportion in
-his enthusiasm over Lord Dorset’s discernment, and exclaims:
-
- _Tu regere imperio populos_ [Sackville] _memento_,
-
-and concludes by dating his letter “the 22nd [I think I may say the
-23rd, for I am sure it is morning, and I think it is day] of December
-1642,” thus proving that he has sat up all night in prison with Sir
-Thomas Browne—and who in this generation could with truth make such a
-boast?
-
-
- § iv
-
-More tragical events than the desecration of his house or the
-imprisonment of his chubby friend marked for Lord Dorset the progress of
-the Civil War. His eldest son, Lord Buckhurst, was early taken prisoner
-at Miles End Green with Lord Middlesex and that same Sir Kenelm Digby,
-and his younger son, Edward, was also taken prisoner at Kidlington, near
-Oxford, and murdered in cold blood by a Roundhead soldier shortly after,
-at Abingdon. I know nothing of this Edward Sackville except that he was
-knighted at an early age, was reported to be “a good chymist,” and was
-deplored in an obituary poem as being
-
- .... _a lamp that had consumed
- Scarce half its oil, yet the whole place perfumed
- Wherein he lived, or did in kindness come,
- As if composed of precious Balsamum_,
-
-and as being to his friends
-
- _that lost in losing him,
- An eye, a tongue, a hand, or some choice limb_.
-
-The author of this poem, A. Townsend, contributed also to the Knole
-papers a set of verses on the death of Charles I. “It is a shame,” he
-exclaims,
-
- _those that can write in verse,
- Quite cover not with elegies his hearse_,
-
-and asks:
-
- _Where are the learned sisters, whose full breast
- Was wont to yield such store of milk, unpressed?_
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE TWO SONS OF EDWARD, 4TH EARL OF DORSET:
-
- RICHARD, LORD BUCKHURST; THE HON. EDWARD SACKVILLE
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ CORNELIUS NUIE
-]
-
-The King, he says, was
-
- .... _pious, temperate, and grave,
- Just, gentle, constant, merciful, brave.
- All this, and more, he was not pleased to be,
- Without the woman’s virtue, Chastity_,
-
-most unlike Solomon, who was wise, yet
-
- .... _did incline
- To worship idols, for a concubine_.
-
-Lord Dorset himself took an active part in the fighting. At Edgehill he
-recaptured the Royal Standard which had been lost to the enemy, and to
-his answer during the same battle James II later testified:
-
- The old Earl of Dorset, at Edgehill [_he wrote_], being commanded by
- the King my father to carry the Prince [Charles II] and myself up a
- hill out of the battle, refused to do it, and said he would not be
- thought a coward for ever a King’s son in Christendom.
-
-I think also that one of his speeches is worth printing, made at the
-Council table in reply to one of Lord Bristol’s which urged the
-continuance of the war. It is honest, enlightened, bold, and,
-considering his personal grievances, very dignified:
-
- The Earl of Bristol has delivered his opinion; and, my turn being next
- to speak, I shall, with the like integrity, give your Lordships an
- account of my sentiments in this great and important business. I shall
- not, as young students do in the schools, _argumentandi gratia_,
- repugn my Lord of Bristol’s tenets; but because my conscience tells me
- they are not orthodox, nor consonant to the disposition of the
- Commonwealth, which, languishing with a tedious sickness, must be
- recovered by gentle and easy medicines in consideration of its
- weakness rather than by violent vomits, or any other kind of
- compelling physic. Not that I shall absolutely labour to refute my
- Lord’s opinion, but justly deliver my own, which, being contrary to
- his, may appear an express contradiction of it, which indeed it is
- not; peace, and that a sudden one, being as necessary betwixt his
- Majesty and his Parliament as light is requisite for the production of
- the day, or heat to cherish from above all inferior bodies; this
- division betwixt his Majesty and his Parliament being as if [by
- miracle] the sun should be separated from his beams, and divided from
- his proper essence. I would not, my Lords, be ready to embrace a peace
- that would be more disadvantageous to us than the present war, which,
- as the Earl of Bristol says, “would destroy our estates and families.”
- The Parliament declares only against delinquents; such as they
- conjecture have miscounselled his Majesty, and be the authors of these
- tumults in the Commonwealth. But these declarations of theirs, except
- such crimes can be proved against them, are of no validity. The
- Parliament will do nothing unjustly, nor condemn the innocent; and
- certainly innocent men had not need to fear to appear before any
- judges whatsoever. And he, who shall for any cause prefer his own
- private good before the public utility, is but an ill son of the
- Commonwealth. _For my particular, in these wars I have suffered as
- much as any; my house hath been searched, my arms taken thence, and my
- son-and-heir committed to prison. Yet I shall wave these
- discourtesies, because I know there was a necessity it should be so;
- and as the darling business of the kingdom, the honour and prosperity
- of the King, study to reconcile all these differences betwixt his
- Majesty and his Parliament; and so to reconcile them, that they shall
- no way prejudice his royal prerogative; of which I believe the
- Parliament being a loyal defender_ [knowing the subject’s property
- depends on it; for, if sovereigns cannot enjoy their rights, their
- subjects cannot] will never endeavour to be infringed; so that, if
- doubts and jealousies were taken away by a fair treaty between his
- Majesty and the Parliament, no doubt a means might be devised to
- rectify these differences—the honour of the King, the estate of us his
- followers and counsellors, the privileges of Parliament, and property
- of the subject, be infallibly preserved in safety: and neither the
- King stoop in this to his subjects, nor the subjects be deprived of
- their just liberties by the King. And whereas my Lord of Bristol
- observes, “that in Spain very few civil dissensions arise, because the
- subjects are truly subjects, and the Sovereign truly a Sovereign”;
- that is, as I understand, the subjects are scarcely removed a degree
- from slaves, nor the Sovereign from a tyrant; here in England the
- subjects have, by long-received liberties granted to our ancestors by
- their Kings, made their freedom resolve into a second nature; and
- neither is it safe for our Kings to strive to introduce the Spanish
- Government upon these free-born nations, nor just for the people to
- suffer that Government to be imposed upon them, which I am certain his
- Majesty’s goodness never intended. And whereas my Lord of Bristol
- intimates the strength and bravery of our army as an inducement to the
- continuation of these wars, which he promises himself will produce a
- fair and happy peace; in this I am utterly repugnant to his opinion;
- for, grant that we have an army of gallant and able men, which,
- indeed, cannot be denied, yet we have infinite disadvantages on our
- side, the Parliament having double our number, and surely [though our
- enemies] persons of as much bravery, nay, and sure to be daily
- supported, when any of their number fails; a benefit which we cannot
- bestow, they having the most populous part of the kingdom at their
- devotion; all, or most, of the cities, considerable towns and ports,
- together with the mainest pillar of the kingdom’s safety, the sea, at
- their command, and the navy; and, which is most material of all, an
- inexhaustible Indies of money to pay their soldiers, out of the
- liberal contributions of coin and plate sent in by people of all
- conditions, who account the Parliament’s cause their cause, and so
- think themselves engaged to part with the uttermost penny of their
- estates in their defence, whom they esteem the patriots of their
- liberties. These strengths of theirs and the defects of ours
- considered, I conclude it necessary for all our safeties, and the good
- of the whole Commonwealth, to beseech his Majesty to take some present
- order for a treaty of peace betwixt himself and his high court of
- Parliament, who, I believe, are so loyal and obedient to his sacred
- Majesty, that they will propound nothing that shall be prejudicial to
- his royal prerogative, or repugnant to their fidelity and duty.
-
-It is, of course, not at all to my purpose to follow the course of the
-Civil War, but only to say that after the execution of the King Lord
-Dorset made a vow, which he is believed to have kept, that he would
-never again stir out of his house until he should be carried out of it
-in his coffin. He did not, in point of fact, survive the King by very
-many years, but died in 1652 and was buried at Withyham.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VI
- Knole in the Reign of Charles II
- CHARLES
- 6th
- Earl _of_ Dorset
-
-
- § i
-
-Edward Sackville was succeeded by his son Richard, married to Lady
-Frances Cranfield, a considerable heiress, who, on the death of her
-brother, inherited the fortune and property of their father, Lionel
-Cranfield, Earl of Middlesex, sometime Treasurer to James I. I mention
-this marriage especially, because it brought to the Sackvilles the house
-called Copt Hall in Essex and its contents, which included much of the
-finest furniture now at Knole, some of the tapestry, the many portraits
-of the Cranfields by Mytens and Dobson, the series of historical
-portraits in the Brown Gallery, and the Mytens copies of Raphael’s
-cartoons. There are a number of receipts at Knole to no less than six
-different carriers, for wagon-loads of effects removed from Copt Hall to
-Knole at the cost of £2. 5_s._ per load. From Copt Hall also came the
-carved stone shield now in the Stone Court on the roof of the Great
-Hall. The Copt Hall estate was sold in 1701 for the approximate sum of
-twenty thousand pounds. The draft of the marriage settlement is at
-Knole:
-
- _January 25th, 1640_
-
- The Earl of Middlesex is to assure ten thousand pounds to the Earl of
- Dorset in marriage with the Lady Frances Cranfield to the Lord
- Buckhurst to be paid in times and manner following:
-
- He is to retain the money in his hands, paying yearly to the young
- couple towards their maintenance by equal portions at Michaelmas and
- our Lady Day £800 per annum until a jointure be made of £1500 per
- annum, by the Lord Buckhurst joining with the Earl of Dorset when he
- shall come to full age.
-
- And if the Lord Buckhurst [which God forbid] shall decease before the
- said lady, or a jointure so made, then the ten thousand pound shall be
- the sole use of the said lady. But if the said lady [which God forbid]
- should die before the Lord Buckhurst without children, the said
- portion or so much shall remain not laid out by consent of the Earl of
- Dorset in purchasing in lands or leases, shall be paid to the said
- Earl of Dorset.
-
-And in the same connection there are some notes from Edward, Lord Dorset
-to Lord Middlesex, one written “this Thursday morning at 5 of the
-clock,” apologising for the “bad character” which Lord Middlesex must
-decipher—and indeed the writing is all but illegible—but he is obliged
-to write as he must go presently into Kent to dispose some bargains and
-sales.
-
-No particular interest attaches to Richard Sackville, save that he
-translated _Le Cid_ into English verse and wrote a poem on Ben Jonson,
-but there are at Knole some memorandum books in his handwriting (between
-1660 and 1670) which are worth quoting, I think, for the following
-illuminating extracts:
-
- _From the_ DIARY _of_ SERVANTS’ _faults_
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- Henry Mattock, for scolding to extremity on Sunday
- without cause 0 0 3
- William Loe, for running out of doors from Morning till
- Midnight without leave 0 2 0
- Richard Meadowes, for being absent when my Lord came
- home late, and making a headless excuse 0 0 6
- Henry Mattock, for not doing what he is bidden 0 1 0
- And 3_d._ a day till he does from this day.
- Henry Mattock, for disposing of my cast linen without
- my order 0 0 3
- Robert Verrell, for giving away my money 0 0 6
- Henry Mattock, for speaking against going to Knole 0 0 6
- Verrell to pay for not burning the brakes out of the
- Wilderness, 3_d._ per week out of his week’s wages of
- 5_s._ for forty-two weeks.
-
-There are various other notes in the same books: Thomas Porter, going to
-Knole, was to have five shillings a week board-wages; and, judging from
-the following, Lord Dorset evidently could not wholly trust his memory
-unaided: “My French shot-bag; an hammer, and some playthings for Tom, a
-bone knife, etc. A great Iron chafing-dish, or a fire-pan to set it
-upon.” And again, “A silver porringer for little Tom.”
-
-Another day he notes:
-
- Old lead cast at Knole for the two turrets weighing 1500 lbs. Old lead
- cast for the cistern weighing 1200 lbs. Sold 13th Aug. 1662 to Edmund
- Giles and Edward Bourne the Advowson of the Rectory and Parsonage of
- Tooting in Surrey for an £100 and paid my wife.
-
-There is also a receipt:
-
- _Nov. 14, 1671._ =Rec^d= of the Right Hon. RICHARD Earl of DORSET, in
- full of all wages bills and accounts whatsoever _from ye beginning of
- ye World to this day_ ye full sum of five pounds seven shillings and
- sixpence I say rec’d by _JOHN WALL GROVE_.
-
-
- § ii
-
-This Richard Sackville and Frances Cranfield had seven sons and six
-daughters. There are some delightful portraits of the little girls at
-Knole, one in particular of Lady Anne and Lady Frances, painted in a
-garden, leading a squirrel on a blue ribbon, and in the chapel at
-Withyham there is an elaborate monument to commemorate the youngest son,
-Thomas, no doubt the “little Tom” for whom the playthings and the silver
-porringer were to be remembered. The monument bears the following
-inscription:
-
- _Stand not amaz’d [Reader] to see us shed
- From drowned eyes vain offerings to ye dead
- For he whose sacred ashes here doth lie
- Was the great hopes of all our family.
- To blaze whose virtues is but to detract
- From them, for in them none can be exact.
- So grave and hopeful was his youth,
- So dear a friend to piety and truth,
- He scarce knew sin, but what curst nature gave,
- And yet grim death hath snatch’d him to his grave.
- He never to his Parents was unkind
- But in his early leaving them behind,
- And since hath left us and for e’er is gone
- What Mother would not weep for such a Son—
- May this fair Monument then never fade,
- Or be by blasting time or age decay’d.
- That the succeeding times to all may tell
- Here lieth one that liv’d and died well—
- Here lies the thirteenth child and seventh son
- Who in his thirteenth year his race had run._
- THOMAS SACKVILLE.
-
-Of the other children, save of the eldest, there is no record, or none
-worth quoting: many of them died, as happened with such pitiable
-frequency, at a very early age: Lionel, aged three; Catherine, aged one;
-Cranfield, aged fourteen days; Elizabeth, aged two years; Anne, aged
-three. The eldest son, however, is one of the most jovial and debonair
-figures in the Knole portrait-gallery, Charles, the sixth Earl—let us
-call him the Restoration Earl—the jolly, loose-living, magnificent
-Mæcenas, “during the whole of his life the patron of men of genius and
-the dupe of women, and bountiful beyond measure to both.” He furnished
-Knole with silver, and peopled it with poets and courtesans; he left us
-the Poets’ Parlour, rich with memories of Pope and Dryden, Prior and
-Shadwell, D’Urfey and Killigrew; he left us the silver and ebony stands
-on which he was in the habit in hours of relaxation of placing his
-cumbersome periwig; he left us his portraits, both as the bewigged and
-be-ribboned courtier, and as the host, wrapped in a loose robe, a turban
-twisted round his head; he left us his gay and artificial stanzas to
-Chloris and Dorinda, and his rousing little song written on the eve of a
-naval engagement. He is not, perhaps, a very admirable figure. He was
-not above trafficking in court appointments; he disturbed London by a
-rowdy youth; he was reported to have passed on his mistresses to the
-King; he ended his life in mental and moral decay with a squalid woman
-at Bath. He followed the fashions of his age, and the most that can be
-claimed for him is that he should stand, along with his inseparables
-Rochester and Sedley, as the prototype of that age. But for all that,
-there is about such geniality, such generosity, and such munificence, a
-certain coarse lovableness which holds an indestructible charm for the
-English race. It is that which makes Charles the Second a more popular
-monarch than William the Third: Herrick a more popular poet than Milton.
-Last but not least, Charles Sackville is connected with that most
-attractive figure of the English stage—Nell Gwyn.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- CHARLES SACKVILLE, 6TH EARL OF DORSET, K.G.
-
- _From the portrait by_ SIR GODFREY KNELLER _in the Poets’ Parlour at
- Knole_
-]
-
-It is not known precisely in what year he was born, but it was either
-1639, 1640, or 1642, so that he must have been a young man somewhere in
-the neighbourhood of twenty when Charles II came to the throne. He had
-been educated by a tutor, one Jennings, and sent abroad with him: as
-Jennings wrote home of him in measured terms surprising in that age of
-sycophancy, saying “I doubt not he will attain to some perfection,” he
-probably held but a low opinion of the abilities of his pupil. I do not
-know at what age Lord Buckhurst, as he then was, returned to England,
-but he must have been quite young, for in 1660 he becomes Colonel of a
-regiment of foot, commands 104 men, and receives a yearly allowance of
-£70 from his father, and the references to him in Pepys begin in 1661
-when he was not more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He was, says Dr.
-Johnson with characteristic disapproval and severity, “eager of the
-riotous and licentious pleasures which young men of high rank, who
-aspired to be thought wits, at that time imagined themselves entitled to
-indulge.” Many of his pranks have been placed on record. They are
-neither very funny nor very edifying. On one occasion he and his brother
-Edward, with three friends, were committed to Newgate for killing an
-innocent man in a brawl, and should no doubt have been tried for murder,
-but as those contretemps could be arranged with very little difficulty
-the charge was modified to manslaughter.[8] On another occasion, the
-full details of which are not allowed to remain in the expurgated
-edition of Pepys, Lord Buckhurst, Sir Charles Sedley, and Sir Thomas
-Ogle got drunk at the Cock Tavern in Bow Street, where they went out on
-to a balcony, and Sedley took off all his clothes and harangued the
-crowd which collected below: the crowd, in indignation, drove them in
-with stones, and broke the windows of the house; for this offence all
-three gentlemen were indicted and Sedley was fined £500. On yet another
-occasion Buckhurst and Sedley spent the night in prison for brawling
-with the watch, and were delivered only on the King’s intervention. On
-yet another, Pepys records that “the King was drunk at Saxam with Sedley
-and Buckhurst, the night that my Lord Arlington came thither, and would
-not give him audience, or could not.” These and similar exploits recall
-the more celebrated escapade of Rochester as an astrologer, which at
-least had in it a humorous element entirely lacking in the mere rioting
-of drunken young men like Buckhurst and Sedley. It is not very
-surprising to learn that although he “inherited not only the paternal
-estate of the Sackvilles but likewise that of the Cranfields, Earls of
-Middlesex in right of his mother, yet at his decease his son, then only
-eighteen years of age, possessed so slender a fortune that his guardians
-when they sent him to travel on the Continent allowed him only eight
-hundred pounds a year for his provision,” nor that “extenuated by
-pleasures and indulgences, he sank into a premature old age.” Before
-sinking into this old age, however, he lived through the full enjoyment
-of a splendid youth. It is difficult to imagine an era in English
-history more favourable to a young man of his type and fortune than the
-early years of Charles II, when the King himself was the ringleader in
-the outburst of revolt against that iron-grey period of Puritanism
-through which the country had just passed. Dresses became extravagant,
-silver ornate, speech licentious; the theatres, which had been closed
-for over twenty years, reopened, the costumes and scenery being now on
-an elaborate scale never contemplated before; women—a daring
-innovation—appeared in the women’s rôles; the King and his brother
-patronised the play-houses with all the young bloods of the court;
-coaches clattered through the streets of London, yes, even on a Sunday.
-There is, of course, another side to the picture—the sullen disapproval
-of the serious-minded, the squalor of a London shortly to be rotted by
-plague and terribly purified by fire—but with this side we have in the
-present connection no concern. We are in the gay upper stratum of
-prosperity and fashion, fortunate in the extraordinary vividness of our
-visualisation; we know not only the principal characters, but also the
-crowd of “supers” pressing behind them; we know their comings and
-goings, their intrigues, their rivalries, their amusements, the names of
-their mistresses. We are now at Whitehall, now at Epsom, now at
-Tunbridge Wells, now at Richmond. We are, indeed, very deeply in Pepys’
-debt.
-
-In this world, therefore, so intimately familiar to any reader of the
-great diarist, Lord Buckhurst moves noisily with Rochester and
-Buckingham, Etherege and Sedley, “the first gentleman,” says Horace
-Walpole, “of the voluptuous court of Charles II.” We are told that he
-refused the King’s offers of employment in order to enjoy his pleasures
-with the greater freedom, or, as he himself wrote with much frankness:
-
- _May knaves and fools grow rich and great,
- And the world think them wise,
- While I lie dying at her feet
- And all the world despise._
-
- _Let conquering Kings new triumphs raise,
- And melt in court delights:
- Her eyes can give much brighter days,
- Her arms much softer nights._
-
-This did not prevent him from enrolling as a volunteer in the Dutch war
-of 1665, when he was present at a naval battle, and when the song which
-he was reported to have written on the eve of the engagement was brought
-to London and bandied from mouth to mouth about the town. Dr. Johnson
-shows himself sceptical as to this picturesque legend of the origin of
-the verses. “Seldom is any splendid story wholly true,” he observes; and
-continues, “I have heard from the Earl of Orrery, that Lord Buckhurst
-had been a week employed upon it, and only re-touched, or finished it,
-on the memorable evening.” However this may be, both song and story
-remain: I have told the story, and quote the song:
-
- _To all you ladies now at land
- We men at sea indite;
- But first would have you understand
- How hard it is to write:
- The Muses now, and Neptune too,
- We must implore to write to you,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _For though the Muses should prove kind
- And fill our empty brain,
- Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind
- To wave the azure main,
- Our paper, pen and ink, and we,
- Roll up and down our ships at sea,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _Then if we write not by each post,
- Think not we are unkind;
- Nor yet conclude our ships are lost
- By Dutchman or the wind:
- Our tears we’ll send a speedier way,
- The tide shall bring them twice a day,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _The King with wonder and surprise
- Will swear the seas grow bold,
- Because the tides will higher rise
- Than e’er they did of old:
- But let him know it is our tears
- Bring floods of grief to Whitehall stairs,[9]
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _Should foggy Opdam chance to know
- Our sad and dismal story,
- The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe
- And quit their fort at Goree;
- For what resistance can they find
- From men who’ve left their hearts behind?—
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _Let wind and weather do its worst,
- Be you to us but kind,
- Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse,
- No sorrow we shall find:
- ’Tis then no matter how things go,
- Or who’s our friend, or who’s our foe,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _To pass our tedious hours away
- We throw a merry main,
- Or else at serious ombre play;
- But why should we in vain
- Each other’s ruin thus pursue?
- We were undone when we left you,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _But now our fears tempestuous grow
- And cast our hopes away;
- Whilst you, regardless of our woe,
- Sit careless at a play;
- Perhaps permit some happier man
- To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _When any mournful tune you hear
- That dies in every note
- As if it sighed with each man’s care
- For being so remote,
- Think then how often love we’ve made
- To you, when all those tunes were played,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _In justice you cannot refuse
- To think of our distress,
- When we for hopes of honour lose
- Our certain happiness:
- All those designs are but to prove
- Ourselves more worthy of your love,
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
- _And now we’ve told you all our loves,
- And likewise all our fears.
- In hopes this declaration moves
- Some pity for our tears:
- Let’s hear of no inconstancy,
- We have too much of that at sea—
- With a fa, la, la, la, la._
-
-With this song—which is really very good of its kind, and, I think,
-deserves its fame—Pepys says that he “occasioned much mirth,” although
-at the time of repeating it he was under the impression that it was
-written by three authors in collaboration. It seems to have achieved
-popularity, and was set to music, also a parody was written of it by
-Lord Halifax under the title “The New Court: Being an Excellent New Song
-to an old Tune of ‘To all you Ladies now at hand’ by the Earl of
-Dorset,” and of which the following is the opening verse:
-
- _To all you Tories far from Court
- We Courtiers now in play
- Do write, to tell you how we sport
- And laugh the hours away.
- The King, the Turks, the Prince, and all
- Attend with us each Feast and Ball.
- With a fa_, etc.
-
-It is shortly after this battle that Nell Gwyn first appears in Lord
-Buckhurst’s life. London’s two theatres—the Duke’s Theatre, near
-Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and the King’s Theatre, or, more familiarly, The
-Theatre, in Drury Lane—were then the great new resort and amusement,
-from the King and his brother in their boxes down to the rabble in the
-pit. Until the reign of Charles II the presence of the King in a common
-play-house was an unknown thing: such plays or masques as they had
-witnessed were always specially performed for them either in the halls
-or cock-pits of their palaces, but it now became the fashion for not
-only the King and the Duke of York, but also for the Queen to patronise
-the theatres. There were other innovations. The public was no longer
-satisfied with the makeshift scenery of pre-Commonwealth days, which had
-too often consisted of a placard hung upon a nail, “_A wood_,” or “_A
-throne-room_,” or whatever it might be. Nor were the dresses of the
-actors as careless as they had formerly been, but patrons of the stage
-would give their old clothes, which, if shabby, were no doubt still
-sufficiently magnificent to produce their effect at a distance. Even a
-step further in progress was the appearance of women on the stage, “foul
-and undecent women now, and never till now, permitted to appear and
-act,” says Evelyn, full of indignation, “who, inflaming several young
-noblemen and gallants, became their misses and to some their wives,
-witness the Earl of Oxford, Sir R. Howard, Prince Rupert, the Earl of
-Dorset, and another greater person than any of them.” A theatre of that
-day must have been a noisy, ruffling, ill-lighted place. The ceiling
-immediately above the pit was either open to the sky or else
-inadequately covered over, so that in the event of rain the whole of the
-pit was apt to surge into the dry parts of the theatre. The ladies in
-the audience, especially if the performance happened to be a comedy, sat
-for the most part in masks. The sallow face of the King, framed by the
-heavy curls, leered down over the edge of a box. In the body of the
-theatre lounged the bucks of the town, exchanging pleasantry and
-impudence with the orange-girls who were so indispensable a feature.
-
-These orange-girls stood in the pit, crying “Oranges! will you have any
-oranges?” and were under the control of a superior known as Orange Moll,
-a famous figure of London theatre life. One may quote, to give some
-further idea of the relations between the young dandies and the
-orange-sellers, some of the stage directions in Shadwell’s _True Widow_,
-in the fourth act, laid in the Playhouse, “Several young coxcombs fool
-with the orange-women,” or “He sits down and lolls in the orange-wench’s
-lap,” or, “Raps people on the back and twirls their hats, and then looks
-demurely, as if he did not do it.” Amongst these girls, at the beginning
-of her career, was Nell Gwyn, of whom Rochester wrote:
-
- ... _the basket her fair arm did suit,
- Laden with pippins and Hesperian fruit;
- This first step raised, to the wondering pit she sold
- The lovely fruit smiling with streaks of gold_,
-
-and who has come down to us as a figure full of disreputable charm,
-witty Nelly, pretty Nelly, Nelly whose foot was least of any woman’s in
-England, Nelly who paid the debts of those whom she saw being haled off
-to prison, Nelly the pert, the apt, the kind-hearted, Nelly who
-“continued to hang on her clothes with her usual negligence when she was
-the King’s mistress, but whatever she did became her.” This merry
-creature said of herself that she was brought up in a brothel and served
-strong waters to gentlemen: it is probable that she was born in the Coal
-Yard at Drury Lane (now Goldsmith Street), and, wherever she may have
-been brought up, at a very early age she joined the orange-girls at the
-King’s Theatre. In due time her looks and her wit attracted attention
-and she went on the stage. Pepys, who was evidently much taken with the
-“bold merry slut,” leaves a particularly charming record of her one May
-day:
-
- _May 1st._ To Westminster, in the way meeting many milkmaids with
- their garlands upon their pails, dancing with a fiddler before them;
- and saw pretty Nelly standing at her lodgings door in Drury Lane in
- her smock sleeves and bodice, looking upon one; she seemed a mighty
- pretty creature.
-
-This being in May (1657), when Nell was sixteen, and had already been
-acting for at least two years, in July of the same year the diarist was
-told, which troubled him, that “my Lord Buckhurst hath got Nell away
-from the King’s House, and gives her £100 a year, so as she hath sent
-her parts to the house and will act no more.”
-
- _None ever had so strange an art
- His passion to convey
- Into a listening virgin’s heart
- And steal her soul away_
-
-was sung of Buckhurst. He was then twenty-seven or so, Nell Gwyn
-sixteen, and together they kept “merry house” at Epsom. Pepys went down
-to Epsom one day and heard reports of their merriments: he pitied Nelly,
-exclaiming, “Poor girl!” and pitied still more her loss to the King’s
-Theatre; but he does not expressly state whether he saw the pair or not.
-In any case, the housekeeping at Epsom did not continue for very long,
-for by August she was again acting in London, and Pepys had “a great
-deal of discourse with Orange Moll, who tells us that Nell is already
-left by my Lord Buckhurst, and that he makes sport of her, and swears
-she hath had all she could get of him.” It would appear from this that
-Buckhurst, contrary to what has been said of him, did not sell Nell Gwyn
-to the King, for even Pepys, who would surely have been among the first
-and best informed, does not mention the King having “sent for Nelly”
-until January of the following year. I hope, therefore, that the charges
-of his having accepted bribes in exchange for Nelly may be exploded. A
-great many things were whispered—that he had been promised the peerage
-of Middlesex, that he had been given a thousand pounds a year, that he
-had been sent on “a sleeveless errand” into France to leave the coast
-clear for the King, that he refused to give her up until he had been
-repaid for all the expenses she had entailed upon him. I do not think
-that such a Jewish spirit is at all in keeping with the rest of his
-character as we know it, with his generosity and general lavishness, nor
-does it seem probable that he would so have bargained with a king whose
-favour he was anxious to retain. By 1669 it is certain that Nell was
-definitely the King’s mistress and all connection with Buckhurst over.
-But we find that years afterwards the house called Burford House, at
-Windsor, is granted by Charles II to Charles, Earl of Dorset and
-Middlesex, W. Chaffinch, Esq., and others, in trust for Ellen Gwyn for
-life, with remainder to the Earl of Burford, the King’s natural son, in
-tail male; further, among the Knole papers is the original deed of 1683
-appointing Lord Dorset her trustee and trustee to her son by Charles II;
-and, dated 1678, there is an allusion to her former lover in one of
-Nell’s infrequent and ill-spelt letters: “My lord Dorseit apiers worze
-in thre months, for he drinks aile with Shadwell and Mr. Haris at the
-Duke’s house all day long.”
-
-Nell Gwyn thus passed out of Lord Buckhurst’s life, which she had so
-briefly entered, a well-assorted pair, I think, in every respect—he,
-idle, spoilt, heavy and magnificent; she, coarse, witty, feminine. There
-is a portrait of her at Knole, which I suppose was acquired by him, and
-I once happened to see a set of spoons in a loan exhibition which were
-catalogued as bearing the arms of Sackville with those of Nell Gwyn. The
-Sackville shield was correct enough, but whether the other quarterings
-were the arms of Gwyn, or whether indeed the orange-girl was entitled to
-any heraldic device, I am, of course, unable to say.
-
-
- § iii
-
-Pomp, wealth, and infirmities now began to take the place of brilliant
-youth and comparative irresponsibility. The frivolous Lord Buckhurst
-became Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, he succeeded to the estates of the
-Cranfields, he married, he was made Lord Chamberlain, he was given the
-Garter, and he had a fit of apoplexy in the King’s bedroom. In order to
-recover his health he went abroad; his passport is at Knole, on yellow
-parchment, with the King’s signature at the top:
-
- Charles the _Second_ by the Grace of God, etc., to all admirals,
- vice-admirals, captains of our ships at sea, governors, commanders,
- soldiers, mayors, sheriffs, justices of the peace, bailiffs,
- constables, customers, controllers, searchers, and all other our
- loving subjects whom it may concern, greeting:
-
- _Whereas_ our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin CHARLES Earl
- _of_ Dorset _and_ Middlesex hath desired our licence to go beyond the
- seas for recovery of his health, we are graciously pleased to
- condescend thereunto, and accordingly our will and pleasure is, and we
- do hereby require, that you permit and suffer the said Charles Earl of
- Dorset and Middlesex with six servants by name Richard Raphael, Robert
- Pennock, Thomas Bridges, —— Solomon, John Carter, and Christopher
- Garner, also forty pounds in money, and all baggage, utensils,
- carriages, and necessaries to the said Earl belonging, freely to
- embark in any of our ports and from thence to pass beyond the seas
- without any let, hindrance, or molestation whatsoever. And you are
- likewise to permit the said Earl and his servants at their return back
- into this Kingdom to pass with like freedom, into the same, affording
- them [as there may be occasion] all requisite aid and furtherance as
- well going as returning. And for so doing this shall be your warrant.
-
- Given at our court at Windsor, the 23rd day of _August_ 1681, in the
- three and thirtieth year of our reign.
-
- By his Ma^{ty’s} Command,
- L. JENKINS.
-
-There is also a letter from one of the servants mentioned in the
-passport, saying that they had had a good passage to Dieppe, “except Mr.
-Raphael, who was kind to ye fishes.”
-
-There is another letter, from the Mr. Raphael in question, written home
-to Robert Pennock from Paris while on the same journey, saying that his
-Lordship wants the pond finished against the spring, orders the gardener
-to manure all the trees, and wishes Pennock to obtain a sure-footed nag,
-as his Lordship intends for the future only to make use of a
-saddle-horse between Copt Hall and London to prevent the pain of the
-gravel, of which infirmity his Lordship has lately been much troubled.
-
-About this time he married. I have in my hands one of his love-letters,
-in faded ink; there is no date, no beginning, and no signature: it is
-superscribed “for the Countess of Falmouth,” and enclosed is a lock of
-reddish-brown hair—most dead and poignant token—of surprising length
-when one considers the heavy wig which was to be worn over it.
-
- I must beg leave that we may be a little earlier than ordinary at
- Hick’s hall to-day, for to-morrow, i may be so miserable as not to see
- you; besides i am in pain till i can clear some doubts that have kept
- me waking all night; something i observed in your looks which shewed
- you had been displeased, at what i dare not ask; but till i know i
- must suffer the torment of uncertain guessing; though i am pretty well
- assured i could not be concerned in it [more than in the trouble it
- gave you]; being so perfectly yours, that it will of necessity be
- counted your own fault if ever i offend you, since ’tis you alone have
- the government not only of all my actions but of my very thoughts, to
- confirm you in the belief of this truth i do from this moment give up
- to you all my pretences to freedom or any power over myself, and
- though you may justly think it below you to be owned the sovereign of
- so mean a dominion as my heart, i have yet confidence upon my knees to
- offer it you; since never any prince could boast of so clear a title,
- and so absolute power, as you shall ever possess in it.
-
-We know a good deal about Lord Dorset’s expenses and finances. We know
-that on the death of his mother he obtained an additional income of
-£1744 14_s._ 11_d._ a year from her estates. We know that thirty-four
-houses in the Strand were granted to him, and let as follows:
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- 23 houses at from £6 to £65 each 950 7 1
- 3 houses built by him and let at £90 each 270 0 0
- ————— — —
- Total £1220 7 1
-
-We know that twenty-four tenements east of Somerset House were granted
-to him for ninety-nine years at a yearly rent of £24 10_s._ 4_d._—and
-that out of them he should have made £1768 a year, as witness the list I
-reproduce, taken from a manuscript at Knole, but either he or his
-bailiff must disgracefully have neglected his business, for on Lord
-Dorset’s death many rents were found to be in arrear, one tenant’s
-yearly rent of £30 having accumulated to the sum of £235 5_s._ 6_d._, or
-nearly eight years’ owing, and another rent of £17 18_s._ 4_d._ had
-accumulated to arrears of £111 19_s._ 10½_d._ His servants’ accounts,
-too, were in a state of confusion, and some of the wages unpaid up to
-three years.
-
- _Signs_ _Rent_
- £ _s._ _d._
- The Rising Sun 64 0 0
- 7 Stars and King’s Arms 60 0 0
- 60 0 0
- 110 0 0
- Surgeon’s Arms 60 0 0
- The Golden Ball 60 0 0
- The Golden Key 60 0 0
- 60 0 0
- Mitre 90 0 0
- 3 Golden [?] 90 0 0
- Black Lion 90 0 0
- Golden Fleece 40 0 0
- 60 0 0
- Golden [?] 48 0 0
- Two Cats 60 0 0
- 60 0 0
- 70 0 0
- Hen and Chicken 60 0 0
- Spread Eagle, a Bath house 40 0 0
- 13 0 0
- 3 Black Lions 60 0 0
- The Angel 70 0 0
- 55 0 0
- The Dorset Arms Tavern 140 0 0
- Swan 33 0 0
- 55 0 0
- Bull Head Tavern 24 0 0
- The Dial 34 0 0
- Ship and Bale 34 0 0
- The Peacock 8 0 0
- ———— — —
- 1768 0 0
-
-His total income for the year 1698–99 was £7650 4_s._ 3½_d._—the curious
-accuracy of these sums does not seem to tally with the confusion to
-which I have referred—that is to say, about £40,000 of modern money. It
-may be interesting, while on this subject, to show some of the means
-common among the great nobles for filling their pockets. In 1697, for
-instance, we read that “My Lord Chamberlain Dorset has sold the
-keepership of Greenwich Park to the Earl of Romney” [James Vernon to
-Matthew Prior], and in the same year—this is when he was getting on in
-years and entirely withdrawing from politics—“Lord Dorset hath resigned
-his office of Lord Chamberlain to the Earl of Sunderland for the sum of
-ten thousand pounds,” but where was this sum to come from? not out of
-Lord Sunderland’s pocket; no, but “_which his Majesty pays_.” There was
-yet another method by which money might conveniently be raised: it is
-well illustrated by Dorset’s petition regarding the dues on tobacco:
-
- _To the King’s most Ex^t Ma^{ty}_
-
- The humble Petition of CHARLES Earl _of_ Middlesex.
-
- Humbly Sheweth
-
- That by the act [for preventing planting of tobacco in England and
- for regulating the Plantation Trade] all ships that shall return
- from any of yr Maj^{ties} foreign plantations and not return to yr
- Maj^{ties} Kingdom of England, Dominion of Wales or Town of
- Berwick upon Tweed, and there pay the customs and duties ... shall
- be confisable and their bonds forfeited. That the _Phenix_ of
- London, Richard Pidgeon Commander and several other ships have ...
- discharged merchandizes of the growth of yr Maj^{ties}
- Plantations, in yr Kingdom of Ireland, so that by law they are
- forfeited as by the said Act produceable may appear.
-
- May it therefore please yr Sacred Maj^{ty} to grant yr Petitioner
- all forfeitures as well past as to come on accompt of the said
- Act, with power to depute such persons as he shall think fitting,
- to look upon and take care that no such abuses shall be in ye
- future.
-
- [_Knole MSS._ 1671.]
-
-To this petition I should like to add another, representing the other
-point of view, that of the unfortunate people who had the King’s
-soldiers quartered upon them in intolerable numbers, and were, as it
-appears, not refunded for the expenses to which they had been put. I add
-this the more willingly, as Dorset was commonly reputed the friend of
-the poor, and it is said of him that “crowds of poor daily thronged his
-gates, expecting thence their bread. The lazy and the sick, as he
-accidentally saw them, were removed from the street to the physician,
-and not only cured but supplied with what might enable them to resume
-their former calling. The prisoner has often been released by my Lord’s
-paying the debt, and the condemned been pardoned, through his
-intercession with the sovereign.”
-
- _To_ the Right Hon^{ble} CHARLES Earl _of_ Dorset _and_ Middlesex.
-
- The humble petition of the Innholders and Alehouse Keepers
- in the parish of Sevenoaks in the county of Kent, Humbly
- Sheweth,
-
- That your said petitioners have every year since ye coming
- of his present Majesty had either foot or horse quartered on
- them, even much beyond their neighbours ... The said
- innkeepers are willing to serve their King and Country, but
- beyond their ability cannot, they therefore humbly pray that
- care may be taken for procuring their arrears due, or at
- least to prevent more soldiers coming on them, which they
- understand are, unless your Honour will stand in the gap ...
-
- [_Knole MSS._]
-
-Some of the foregoing papers, then, account for his income; we have also
-some notes as to his expenses. To his servants he paid £8 to £10 a year
-for “ordinary men and maids.” For beef he paid 2_s._ a stone; for
-mutton, 3_d._ a pound; pullets were 6_d._ each; a goose was 1_s._ 8_d._;
-a pheasant, 1_s._; a hare, 8_d._; a tongue, 1_s._; a partridge, 9_d._; a
-pigeon, 3_d._; a turkey, 2_s._ 6_d._; a calf’s head, 1_s._ 6_d._ A
-bushel of oysters cost him 4_s._ 6_d._; a peck of damsons, 1_s._ Wheat
-cost him 7_s._ a bushel; salt, 5_s._ a bushel. For 130 walnuts he paid
-1_s._ 6_d._, and for a dozen candles 5_s._ 6_d._—a surprising price. We
-have also a detailed account of his cellar. For strong beer he paid
-35_s._ a hogshead, and for small beer 10_s._ a hogshead. From July 1690
-to November 1691 his total wine bill amounted to £598 19_s._ 4_d._, an
-alarming sum when we reflect that he was paying only 5_s._ 1_d._ for a
-gallon of red port, 6_s._ 8_d._ for a gallon of sherry, and 8_s._ for a
-gallon of canary. We are given the details entered in the cellar from
-August 1690 to January 1691; they are sufficiently formidable: 425
-gallons of red port, 85 gallons of sherry, 72 gallons of canary, 63
-gallons of white port, and a quart of hock. One wonders whether Lord
-Dorset was “laying down,” or whether this quantity was adequate only to
-the six months shown on the account book.
-
-Lord Dorset seems to have carried large sums of money about on his
-person, for the steward’s account book at Knole shows a regular daily
-entry of 10_s._ for loose change to his Lordship, and when he was set
-upon by footpads near Tyburn they robbed him not only of his gold
-George, but also of forty or fifty pounds. This does not perhaps seem a
-very enormous sum for a wealthy man to carry, but it must always be
-remembered that in order to obtain the modern equivalent it is necessary
-to multiply by at least five.
-
-Before leaving the Knole papers of this date—and there is much that I
-have regretfully discarded, many letters, for instance, regarding the
-election of Lord Buckhurst to the House of Commons, which throw
-interesting sidelights upon the methods of electioneering in the early
-days of Charles II—I should like to quote one letter of unknown
-authorship, relating to the Rye House Plot. The letter is addressed to
-Lord Dorset: it is unsigned and undated, but the date must be placed, by
-virtue of internal evidence, in July 1683, by reason of the reference to
-Captain Walcot who was tried on July 12th in connection with the plot.
-
- The party that went for my Lord Essex found him in his garden
- gathering of nut-meg peaches, he was lodged in my Lord Feversham’s
- lodgings, in Whitehall, and the next day, having not made use of the
- favour of pen and ink, so well as my Lord Howard hath, he was sent to
- the Tower.
-
- My Lord Howard runs like a spout, fresh, and fresh he hath writ enough
- to hang himself, and 1 hundred more, and cried enough to drown
- himself, he hath cast his lodgings in Whitehall.
-
- Sir John Burlace was brought before the Council yesterday, upon
- sending intelligence to my Lord Lovelace that there was a warrant
- against him. He stayed one night in the messenger’s hands and was this
- morning bail for my Lord Lovelace, and both of them dismissed.
-
- The enclosed is an account how far the Grand Jury hath proceeded, that
- little note hath the names of some of the Grand Jury.
-
- None were tried this afternoon but Capt. Walcot who was cast by a most
- clear evidence being at several consults, the places all named, his
- raising of arms, his own letter to the King, and one of the consults
- was at the Vulture, Ludgate Hill, and Sheppard’s House, he had very
- little to say for himself, but that the witnesses swore away his life
- to secure their own, he excepted against all Jury men that were of the
- lieutenancy and behaved himself with a great deal of decency and
- resolution. They had a declaration ready drawn by Goodenough so soon
- as ever the King was killed, and particular men appointed to murder
- the most considerable persons. Borne by name was to kill this Lord
- Keeper, and refused it because it looked like an unneighbourly thing,
- my Lord pulled off his hat and said Thank you, neighbour.
-
-I find also, dated 1690, this curious vocabulary of thieves’ slang
-scribbled on the back of some particulars relating to the appointment of
-a new incumbent for Sevenoaks. Unfortunately half the alphabet is
-missing:
-
- Autem mort a marryed woman
-
- Abram naked
-
- abram-cour a tatterdemalion
-
- autem a church
-
- boughar a cur
-
- bouse drink
-
- bousing-ken an ale-house
-
- borde a shilling
-
- boung a purse
-
- bing to goe
-
- bing a wast to goe away
-
- bube ye pox
-
- buge a dog
-
- bleating-cheat a sheep
-
- billy-cheat an apron
-
- bite ye peter or Roger steal ye portmantle
-
- budge one that steals cloaks
-
- bulk and file a pickpocket and his mate
-
- cokir a lyar
-
- cuffin quire a justice
-
- crampings bolts and shackles
-
- chats ye gallows
-
- crackmans hedges
-
- calle
- togeman a cloak
- Joseph
-
- couch to lye asleep
-
- couch a hogshead to goe to sleep
-
- commission a shirt
- mish
-
- cackling-cheat a chicken
-
- cassan cheese
-
- crash to kill
-
- crashing-cheat teeth
-
- cloy to steal
-
- cut to speak
-
- cut bien whydds to speak well
-
- cut quire whydds to speak evill
-
- confeck counterfeit
-
- cly ye jerk to be whipt
-
- dimber pretty
-
- damber rascall
-
- drawers stockings
-
- duds goods
-
- deusea vile ye country
-
- dommerer a madman
-
- darkmans night or even
-
- dup to enter
-
- tip me my earnest give me my part
-
- filch a staffe
-
- ferme a hole
-
- fambles hands
-
- fambles cheats rings and gloves
-
- fib to beat
-
- flag a groat
-
- fogus tobacco
-
- fencing cully one that receives stolne goods
-
- glimmer fire
-
- glaziers eyes
-
- granna corne
-
- gentry more a gallant wench
-
- gun lip
-
- gage a pot or pipe
-
- grunting-cheat a sucking pig
-
- giger a dore
-
- gybe a passe
-
- glasier one that goes in at windows
-
- gilt a picklock
-
- harmanbeck a constable
-
- heave a book to rob a house
-
- half berd sixpence
-
- heartsease 20 shillings
-
- knapper of knappers a sheep stealer
-
- lightmans morning or day
-
- lib to tumble
-
- libben an house
-
- lage water
-
- libedge a bed
-
- lullabye-cheat a child
-
- lap pottage
-
- lucries all manner of clothes
-
- maunder to beg
-
- magery prater an hen
-
- muffling-cheat a napkin
-
- mumpers gentile beggars[10]
-
-
- § iv
-
-In 1685 Charles II died, and with him departed that devil-may-care
-existence into which Lord Dorset had fitted so readily and so well. He
-was no favourite with the new King; for one thing he had addressed
-verses in this vein to Lady Dorchester, mistress of James II:
-
- _Tell me, Dorinda, why so gay,
- Why such embroidery, fringe, and lace?
- Can any dresses find a way
- To stop th’ approaches of decay,
- And mend a ruined face?_
-
- _Wilt thou still sparkle in the box,
- Still ogle in the ring?
- Canst thou forget thy age and pox?
- Can all that shines on shells and rocks
- Make thee a fine young thing?_
-
-He appears also at this time to have grown more serious in his outlook,
-for he disapproved of the new King so strongly as to have taken an
-active part in the accession of William III to the English throne. He
-was instrumental, indeed, in arranging the escape of Princess
-(afterwards Queen) Anne:
-
- That evening [_says Macaulay_] Anne retired to her chamber as usual.
- At dead of night she rose, and, accompanied by her friend Sarah
- [Churchill] and two other female attendants, stole down the back
- stairs in a dressing-gown and slippers. The fugitives gained the open
- street unchallenged. A hackney coach was in waiting for them there.
- Two men guarded the humble vehicle. One of them was Compton, Bishop of
- London, the princess’ old tutor; the other was the magnificent and
- accomplished Dorset, whom the extremity of the public danger had
- roused from his luxurious repose. The coach drove instantly to
- Aldersgate Street ... there the princess passed the night. On the
- following morning she set out for Epping Forest. In that wild tract
- [it is amusing to think of Epping as a wild tract]—in that wild tract
- Dorset possessed a venerable mansion [Copt Hall], the favourite
- resort, during many years, of wits and poets ...
-
-but Macaulay was evidently not in possession of, or else ignored
-(although it is difficult to believe that the incident would not have
-tempted his picturesque and vivid pen), the detail related by Dorset’s
-grandson, Lord George Sackville, that
-
- one of her Royal Highness’ shoes sticking fast in the mud, the
- accident threatened to impede her escape; but Lord Dorset, immediately
- drawing off his white glove, put it on the Princess’ foot, and placed
- her safely in the carriage.
-
-That Lord Dorset had no sympathy with popery is proved by this letter,
-which is among the Duke of Rutland’s papers:
-
- Lord Dorset last night [27th January 1688] while at supper at Lady
- Northampton’s, received the following letter with cross on top:
-
- +
-
- ’Twere pity that one of the best of men should be lost for the worst
- of causes. Do not sacrifice a life everybody values for a religion
- yourself despise. Make your peace with your lawful sovereign, or
- know that after this 27th of January you have not long to live. Take
- this warning from a friend before repentance is in vain;
-
-and it is apparent that he had not lost touch with his old friends of
-the Court of Charles II, for we find, in 1688, that he placed Knole at
-the disposal of the Queen Dowager (Catherine of Braganza),
-
- without any consideration of rent, besides the sole use of his park,
- and if she makes any alterations to have timber out of his woods for
- that purpose. The Queen Dowager will consider the repairs of the Lord
- Dorset’s house, which will amount to £20,000.
-
-But whether she availed herself of the offer, for however short a
-period, I cannot say.
-
-Lord Dorset was in favour with William III, and continued to hold his
-office of Lord Chamberlain until he resigned it in 1697. This was the
-date when he withdrew from all public life. His second wife had died six
-years before; Dorset himself was approaching sixty, and the excesses of
-his youth had long since begun to tell. The end of a life which opened
-with such gaiety and _éclat_ offers a very sordid picture. From his
-portraits it is easy to see that he has grown heavy and apoplectic: his
-features are coarsened and swollen; his double chins hang in folds over
-his voluminous robes, his ruffles, and his ribbons. He could not hope to
-enjoy his life at both ends. Those must have been good days when he got
-drunk with Sedley, or kept house with Nelly at Epsom, or exchanged
-witticisms with the King in the passages at Whitehall, or sat after
-supper round the dining-room table at Knole with Dryden and Killigrew
-and Rochester; but after running up the account the debt had to be paid
-at last. It was all very well for Prior, who owed him everything, to get
-gracefully out of a difficulty by saying that he drivelled better sense
-than most men could talk: the remainder of the account is not pretty to
-contemplate. “A few years before he died,” is the story told by his
-grandson, Lord George Sackville, “he married a woman named Roche of very
-obscure connections, who held him in a sort of captivity down at Bath,
-where he expired at about sixty-nine.” There is a contemporary letter,
-which says, “My Lord Dorset owns his marriage with one of his
-acquaintances, one of the Roches. Do you think anyone will pity him?”
-“She suffered few persons to approach him during his last illness, or
-rather, decay,” Lord George’s account continues, “and was supposed to
-have converted his weakness of mind to her own objects of personal
-acquisition. He was indeed considered to be fallen into a state of such
-imbecility as would render it necessary to appoint guardians, with a
-view to prevent his injuring the family estate, but the intention was
-nevertheless abandoned. You have no doubt heard, and it is a fact, that
-with a view of ascertaining whether Lord Dorset continued to be of a
-sane mind, Prior, whom he had patronised and always regarded with
-predilection, was sent down to Bath by the family.” Having obtained
-access to the Earl, and conversed with him, Prior made his report in
-these words, “Lord Dorset is certainly greatly declined in his
-understanding, but he _drivels_ so much better sense even now than any
-other man can _talk_, that you must not call me into court as a witness
-to prove him an idiot.” Congreve, appropriating the gist of the remark,
-observed after visiting Dorset on his deathbed, “Faith, he slabbers more
-wit dying than other people do in their best health.” Swift also, who
-was an intimate friend of Lady Betty Germaine and the Dorsets in the
-succeeding generation, remarks that Charles grew dull in his old age.
-Ann Roche, who guarded so jealously her ancient and mouldy bird of
-Paradise, managed to provide handsomely for herself under his will. He
-left her not only the house in Stable Yard, St. James, which was hers
-before her marriage, but also lands and messuages in Sussex, two beds
-with the furniture thereunto belonging in his house at Knole, the
-furniture of two rooms there, all the household linen there, and £500 to
-be increased to £20,000 if his son should die without issue. The
-marriage only lasted a short time, for in 1705 Lord Dorset died—old,
-enfeebled, and semi-imbecile.
-
-It is not surprising to learn that he left a number of illegitimate
-children: we know of at least four for certain, and there was probably a
-fifth, a son, as it is difficult to account otherwise for the William
-Sackville who writes, signing a remarkably ungrammatical letter with a
-remarkably beautiful signature, to ask for money, as he has lately
-“gained the affection of a young lady,” and this, he promises, will be
-“the last trouble that ever I shall give your Lordship; it would come
-very seasonable to my present circumstances who has been harassed and
-ruined by the fate of war this four years past and have done the
-government good service, and never rewarded as those that deserved it
-less has.” The other four were daughters. There is a petition at Knole
-from one of them:
-
- _To_ the Right Hon. CHARLES Earl _of_ Dorset _and_ Middlesex, Lord
- Chamberlain of Their Majesties’ Household, the humble petition of MARY
- SACKVILLE:
-
- That it having pleased ye Almighty to lay his afflicting hand on your
- petitioner’s husband and her two small children for a long time
- together, having nothing to live upon but his own hands’ labour, which
- failing him during his sickness all his family have suffered thereby
- and been put to great straights and having received much of your
- Honour’s charity, is now ... [_illegible_] but hopes that your
- Lordship will consider it is the hand of accident that is hard upon
- her.
-
- Your petitioner therefore humbly prays that your Honour will be
- pleased to bestow something on her this time that she may undergo her
- calamity with a little more cheerfulness and alacrity.
-
-According to the will of this Mary Sackville, her circumstances must
-have improved, for she leaves £1000 “for the benefit of Katherine
-Sackville my sister or reputed sister who was born of the body of Mrs.
-Phillipa Waldgrave, deceased, my late mother or reputed mother.” This
-will is dated 1684, so I should think the Katherine Sackville referred
-to is probably the “K. S.” who was buried at Withyham, aged fourteen, in
-1690—humble little initials among the Lady Annes and Lady Elizabeths who
-surround her. She had been provided for in Lord Dorset’s will also:
-
- To my natural daughter Katherine Sackville, _alias_ Walgrave, £1000.
-
- To my natural daughter Mary Sackville, _alias_ Walgrave, £200, and
- £2000 before settled on her.
-
- To my natural daughter An [_sic_] Lee, _alias_ Sackville, the sum of
- £500.
-
-It thus seems probable that these daughters were the children of two
-different mothers, Lee and Walgrave, Waldgrave, Waldegrave, as it was
-variously spelt. An agreement at Knole, dated 1674, provides for
-Phillipa Walgrave to receive interest on £1000 placed in Mr. Guy’s hands
-by Lord Dorset, the interest on it to be paid to her yearly, and after
-her death to Mary Sackville until her marriage or until the age of 21,
-but if Mrs. Walgrave marries, the £1000 is to be paid to her. Another
-natural daughter, also named Mary, married Lord Orrery, but I do not
-know who was her mother.
-
-
- § v
-
- He had been one of the most notorious libertines of the wild time
- which followed the Restoration. He had been the terror of the city
- watch, had passed many nights in the round house, and had at least
- once occupied a cell in Newgate. His passion for Nell Gwyn, who always
- called him her Charles the First, had given no small amusement and
- scandal to the town. Yet, in the midst of follies and vices, his
- courageous spirit, his fine understanding, and his natural goodness of
- heart, had been conspicuous. Men said that the excesses in which he
- indulged were common between him and the whole race of gay young
- Cavaliers, but that his sympathy with human suffering and the
- generosity with which he made reparation to those whom his freaks had
- injured were all his own. His associates were astonished by the
- distinction which the public made between him and them. “He may do
- what he chooses,” said Wilmot, “he is never in the wrong.” The
- judgment of the world became still more favourable to Dorset when he
- had been sobered by time and marriage. His graceful manners, his
- brilliant conversation, his soft heart, his open hand, were
- universally praised. No day passed, it was said, in which some
- distressed family had not reason to bless his name. And yet, with all
- his good nature, such was the keenness of his wit that scoffers whose
- sarcasm all the town feared stood in craven fear of the sarcasm of
- Dorset. All political parties esteemed and caressed him, but politics
- were not much to his taste. Had he been driven by necessity to exert
- himself, he would probably have risen to the highest posts in the
- state; but he was born to rank so high and to wealth so ample that
- many of the motives which impel men to engage in public affairs were
- wanting to him.... Like many other men who, with great natural
- abilities, are constitutionally and habitually indolent, he became an
- intellectual voluptuary, and a master of all those pleasing branches
- of knowledge which can be acquired without severe application. He was
- allowed to be the best judge of painting, of sculpture, of
- architecture, of acting, that the court could show. On questions of
- polite learning his decisions were regarded at all the coffee houses
- as without appeal. More than one clever play which had failed on the
- first representation was supported by his single authority against the
- whole clamour of the pit and came forth successful at the second
- trial....
-
-Macaulay thus summarises his career and character, and I am led quite
-naturally to the consideration of one aspect of his life on which I have
-scarcely touched, and that is his connection with the men of letters of
-his day. The often-quoted saying, that Butler owed to him that the court
-tasted his _Hudibras_, Wycherley that the town liked his _Plain Dealer_,
-and that the Duke of Buckingham deferred the publication of his
-_Rehearsal_ until he was sure that Lord Buckhurst would not rehearse it
-upon him again—this saying had much truth in it. It is better, I think,
-to quote the disinterested opinion of Macaulay rather than the
-panegyrics of Prior or Dryden, or any of the contemporary authors who
-stood too greatly in Dorset’s debt for complete impartiality:
-
- Such a patron of letters England had never seen [_says Macaulay_]. His
- bounty was bestowed with equal judgment and liberality, and was
- confined to no sect or faction. Men of genius, estranged from each
- other by literary jealousy or difference of political opinion, joined
- in acknowledging his impartial kindness. Dryden owned that he had been
- saved from ruin by Dorset’s princely generosity. Yet Montague and
- Prior, who had keenly satirised Dryden, were introduced by Dorset into
- public life; and the best comedy of Dryden’s mortal enemy, Shadwell,
- was written at Dorset’s country seat. The munificent earl might, if
- such had been his wish, have been the rival of those of whom he was
- content to be the benefactor. For the verses which he occasionally
- composed, unstudied as they are, exhibit the traces of a genius which,
- assiduously cultivated, would have produced something great. In the
- small volume of his works may be found songs which have the easy
- vigour of Suckling, and little satires which sparkle with wit as
- splendid as those of Butler.
-
-One can, perhaps, scarcely agree with Macaulay in this estimate of
-Dorset’s literary gifts. The songs he wrote are little more than easy
-specimens of conventional Restoration verse, and, for my part, I fail to
-find in them, with the exception of “To all you ladies now at land,” any
-merit which was not shared by all the numerous song-writers of the day.
-It certainly cannot be claimed for him that he had any of the vigour,
-originality, or true poetic impulse of his great-great-grandfather, the
-old Lord Treasurer, and although it may be argued that the age of
-Elizabeth and the age of the Restoration differed totally in poetic
-conception and spontaneity, I still do not admit that Dorset possessed
-those qualities which might have made up in one direction for those
-which were lacking in another, I have already quoted his sea-song,
-unquestionably the best thing he ever wrote, and, to give point to my
-argument, will quote two further songs, which may stand as typical
-examples, the first of his graceful but entirely artificial talent, the
-second of his satire which caused Rochester to say of him:
-
- _For pointed satire I would Buckhurst choose,
- The best good man with the worst natured muse._
-
- SONG
-
- _Phyllis, for shame, let us improve
- A thousand different ways
- Those few short moments snatched by love
- From many tedious days._
-
- _If you want courage to despise
- The censure of the grave,
- Though Love’s a tyrant in your eyes,
- Your heart is but a slave._
-
- _My love is full of noble pride
- Nor can it e’er submit
- To let that fop, Discretion, ride
- In triumph over it._
-
- _False friends I have, as well as you,
- Who daily counsel me
- Fame and ambition to pursue
- And leave off loving thee._
-
- _But when the least regard I show
- To fools who thus advise,
- May I be dull enough to grow
- Most miserably wise._
-
- _To_ CATHERINE SEDLEY [married Sir David Colyear]
-
- _Proud with the spoils of royal cully,
- With false pretence to wit and parts,
- She swaggers like a battered bully
- To try the tempers of men’s hearts._
-
- _Though she appear as glittering fine
- As gems, and jets, and paints can make her,
- She ne’er can win a breast like mine:
- The Devil and Sir David take her._
-
-The fugitive character of his own verses does not, however, in any way
-detract from his splendour as a patron. It is well known that Matthew
-Prior as a boy was found by him reading Horace in a tavern in
-Westminster, when, struck by his intelligence, Dorset sent the boy at
-his own expense to school until his election as King’s Scholar. Prior in
-after years did not forget this kindness. His poems are dedicated to the
-son of his earliest patron, and there are, as students of Prior will
-remember, several amongst them especially written to members of Dorset’s
-family, notably the “Lines to Lord Buckhurst [Dorset’s son] when playing
-with a cat.” The many letters from Prior to Lord Dorset, now in Lord
-Bath’s possession, testify to the endurance of their friendship: one of
-these letters ends with a poem, which I quote, as I am under the
-impression that it is not included in any edition of Prior’s works:
-
- _Spare Dorset’s sacred life, discerning Fate,
- And Death shall march through camps and courts in state,
- Emptying his quiver on the vulgar great:
- Round Dorset’s board let Peace and Plenty dance,
- Far off let Famine her sad reign advance,
- And War walk deep in blood through conquered France.
- Apollo thus began the mystic strain,
- The Muses’ sons all bowed and said Amen._
-
-It is perhaps less commonly known that Dryden also owed, in another way,
-much to Dorset. The account is thus given by Macaulay:
-
- Dorset became Lord Chamberlain, and employed his influence and
- patronage annexed to his functions, as he had long employed his
- private means, in encouraging genius and alleviating misfortune. One
- of the first acts which he was under the necessity of performing must
- have been painful to a man of so generous a nature, and of so keen a
- relish for whatever was excellent in arts and letters. Dryden could no
- longer remain Poet Laureate. The public would not have borne to see
- any papist among the servants of their Majesties; and Dryden was not
- only a papist, but an apostate. He had, moreover, aggravated the guilt
- of his apostacy by calumniating and ridiculing the Church which he had
- deserted. He had, it was facetiously said, treated her as the pagan
- persecutors of old treated her children. He had dressed her up in the
- skin of a wild beast, and then baited her for the public amusement. He
- was removed; but he received from the private bounty of the
- magnificent Chamberlain a pension equal to the salary which had been
- withdrawn.
-
-Dryden, apparently, despite this generosity, continued to lament his
-ill-fortune, and his contemporary Blackmore, in a poem called _Prince
-Arthur_, satirises him in the character of _Laurus_ for his assiduity at
-Dorset’s doors—Dorset being the _Sakil_ of the poem, Sackville in
-transparent disguise:
-
- _The poets’ nation did obsequious wait
- For the kind dole divided at his gate.
- Laurus among the meagre crowd appeared,
- An old, revolted, unbelieving bard,
- Who thronged, and shoved, and pressed, and would be heard._
-
- _Sakil’s high roof, the Muses’ palace, rung
- With endless cries, and endless songs he sung.
- To bless good Sakil Laurus would be first;
- But Sakil’s prince and Sakil’s God he cursed.
- Sakil without distinction threw his bread,
- Despised the flatterer, but the poet fed._
-
-It is true that in his _Essay on Satire_, which, like his _Essay on
-Dramatic Poetry_, is dedicated in terms of the most outrageous flattery
-to Dorset, Dryden makes full acknowledgement of the obligation:
-
- I must ever acknowledge, to the honour of your Lordship and the
- eternal memory of your charity, that, since this revolution, wherein I
- have patiently suffered the ruin of my small fortune, and the loss of
- that poor subsistence which I had from two kings, whom I had served
- more faithfully than profitably to myself; then your Lordship was
- pleased, out of no other motive but your own nobleness, without any
- desert of mine, or the least solicitation from me, to make me a most
- bountiful present, which at that time, when I was most in want of it,
- came most seasonably and unexpectedly to my relief.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- THE BROWN GALLERY
-
- _Built by_ ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER _in 1460_
-]
-
-But I think there may be detected, even in this acknowledgment, the note
-of whining to which Macaulay, in the continuation of the passage I have
-quoted, draws attention. It is also related that Dryden, when dining
-with Dorset, found a hundred-pound note hidden under his plate. In a
-letter preserved at Knole, in Dryden’s beautiful handwriting, he makes
-further acknowledgement, after proffering a petition on behalf of a
-friend who wished to obtain rooms in Somerset House:
-
- ... if I had confidence enough, my Lord, I would presume to mind you
- of a favour which your Lordship formerly gave me some hopes of from
- the Queen; but if it be not proper or convenient for you to ask, I
- dare give your Lordship no further trouble in it, being on so many
- other accounts already your Lordship’s most obliged obedient servant,
-
- JOHN DRYDEN.
-
-We know that Dryden was a constant visitor at Knole; we have even an
-anecdote of one of his visits. It is related that someone proposed that
-each member of the party should write an impromptu, and that Dryden,
-when the allotted time had expired, should judge between them. Silence
-ensued while each guest wrote busily, or laboriously, upon the sheet of
-paper provided: Dorset scribbled a couple of lines and threw it down on
-the table. At the end of the time the umpire rose, and said that after
-careful consideration he awarded the prize to their host; he would read
-out what his Lordship had written; it was: “I promise to pay Mr. John
-Dryden or order five hundred pounds on demand. DORSET.”
-
-It would be interesting to know who were the other members of the party;
-perhaps Tom Durfey, perhaps Lady Dorset, who is described as “jeune,
-belle, riche, et sage,” perhaps Rochester, whose portrait hangs in the
-Poets’ Parlour—and I imagine the Poets’ Parlour to have been the scene
-of this little incident, “a chamber of parts and players,” says Horace
-Walpole, “which is proper enough in that house”—a portrait of a young
-man in a heavy wig, labelled “died repentant after a profligate life,”
-as I, not understanding the long words, used to gabble off to strangers
-along with other piteous little shibboleths when showing the house.
-Certainly Shadwell was not there, for he and Dryden were at mortal
-enmity; Shadwell, his successor in the Laureateship, another friend and
-protégé of Dorset’s, described by Dryden as being
-
- _Round as a globe, and liquored every chink,
- Goodly and great, he sails behind his link.
- For all this bulk there’s nothing lost in Og,
- For every inch that is not fool is rogue_,
-
-and who writes of Dorset that he was received by him as a member of his
-family, and furthermore, rather plaintively, in a letter at Knole,
-beseeching Lord Dorset’s intervention, as “they have put Durfey’s play
-before ours, and this day a play of Dryden’s is read to them and that is
-to be acted before ours too.”
-
-Tom Durfey, whose portrait is upstairs in Lady Betty’s room, painted in
-profile, with surely the most formidable of all hooked noses, was almost
-a pensioner at Knole, having his own rooms over the dairy, and is guilty
-of these execrable verses in praise of his second home:
-
- THE GLORY OF KNOLE
-
- _Knole most famous in Kent still appears,
- Where mansions surveyed for a thousand long years,
- In whose domes mighty monarchs might dwell,
- Where five hundred rooms are, as Boswell[11] can tell!_
-
-I do not think that Durfey can have been very greatly esteemed by his
-patron, nor yet on very intimate terms with him, but kept rather,
-contemptuously, as permanent rhymester to Dorset’s little court, for
-another picture, small, obscure, but entertainingly intimate, shows him
-in humble company in the Steward’s Room with Lowry, the Steward; George
-Allan, a clothier; Mother Moss, whoever she may have been; Maximilian
-Buck, the chaplain; and one Jack Randall. His name is certainly not one
-of the most illustrious among the many poets and writers represented on
-the walls of the Poets’ Parlour—Edmund Waller, Matthew Prior, Thomas
-Flattman, John Dryden, William Congreve, William Wycherley, Thomas
-Otway, Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, Samuel Butler, Abraham Cowley,
-Nicholas Rowe, William Cartwright, Sir Kenelm Digby, Alexander Pope. And
-with this last name I come to the final tribute paid to the splendid
-Dorset—Pope’s epitaph upon his monument in the Sackville chapel at
-Withyham:
-
- _Dorset, the grace of courts, the Muses’ pride,
- Patron of arts, and judge of nature, died.
- The scourge of pride, though sanctified or great,
- Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state:
- Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay,
- His anger moral, and his wisdom gay.
- Blest satirist! who touched the mean so true,
- As showed vice had his hate and pity too.
- Blest courtier! who could King and country please,
- Yet sacred kept his friendships and his ease.
- Blest peer! his great forefather’s every grace
- Reflected and reflecting in his race,
- Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine,
- And patriots still, or poets, deck the line._
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VII
- Knole in the Early Eighteenth Century
- LIONEL SACKVILLE
- 7th Earl _and_ 1st
- Duke _of_ Dorset
-
-
- § i
-
-The first duke of Dorset remains to me, in spite of much reading, but an
-indistinct figure. I do not know whether the fault is mine or his.
-Perhaps he was a man of little personality; certainly he was lacking in
-the charm of his scapegrace father or of his frivolous great-nephew, the
-third duke. And yet he is a personage of some solidity: weighty,
-Georgian solidity. The epithets chosen by his contemporaries to describe
-him are all concordant enough, “a man of dignity, caution, and
-plausibility,” “worthy, honest, good-natured,” “he preserved to the last
-the good breeding, decency of manner, and dignity of exterior deportment
-of Queen Anne’s time, never departing from his style of gravity and
-ceremony,” “a large-grown, full person,” and finally—the words come
-almost with the shock of being precisely what we were waiting for—“in
-spite of the greatest dignity in his appearance, he was in private the
-greatest lover of low humour and buffoonery.” He was fitted, if I piece
-together rightly my scraps of evidence, to lead the life of a country
-gentleman, performing his duty towards his county, entertaining his
-friends, enjoying with them after dinner the low humour to which he
-inclined, rolling out his laughter in the Poets’ Parlour, slapping his
-great thighs, and rejoining his wife afterwards in the spirit of
-affectionate domesticity which induced him to begin his letters to her
-“dear, dear, dear girl,” or “my dear, dear Colly.” He lived, says one
-account of him, after detailing his amiable qualities as a kind husband
-and father, “in great hospitality all his life, and he was so respected
-that when at Knole on Sundays the front of the house was so crowded with
-horsemen and carriages as to give it rather the appearance of a princely
-levee than the residence of a private nobleman.” It was his misfortune
-that he was not allowed to remain leading this kind of life so much to
-his taste: “the poor Duke of Dorset,” said Lord Shelburne, “was made by
-his son to commence politician at sixty.” The local offices which he
-held were well suited to his disposition and abilities; the titles of
-_Custos Rotulorum_, _Lord Lieutenant of Kent_, _Constable of Dover
-Castle_, and _Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports_ sit admirably upon his
-rather provincial dignity. He could discharge these offices while
-surrounding himself with friends, and keeping open house at Knole. He
-was surely happy at Knole, with the duchess and the duchess’ friend Lady
-Betty Germaine installed in her two little rooms in a corner of the
-house, and the correspondence with Dean Swift, and the echoes of the
-Restoration reaching him in the shape of dedications from Prior and
-Pope, who had been his father’s friends. He must have been happy
-superintending the building of the “ruins” in the park, in ordering the
-removal of the clock from the roof of the Great Hall to a safer place
-over Bourchier’s oriel, in putting up the balustrade in the Stone Court,
-in adding to the picture-gallery his own full-length Kneller, painted in
-Garter robes—a dignified and ponderous addition—in continuing his
-father’s kindly and contemptuous patronage of Durfey, in entertaining
-the Prince of Wales, in receiving the present of a pair of elk-antlers
-measuring 7 foot from tip to tip, in playing at cards with his wife and
-Lady Betty, in watching the bull-baiting in the park, in inspiring the
-following tribute on the occasion of his birthday:
-
- _Accept, with unambitious views,
- The tribute of a female muse;
- Free from all flattery and art,
- She only boasts an honest heart;
- An heart that truly feels your worth,
- And hails the day that gave you birth;
- Of younger men let others boast,
- Since Dorset is my constant toast;
- Nor need the gayer world be told
- That Dorset never can grow old;_
-
- _And with unerring truth agree,
- There’s none so young, so blithe as he,
- With sprightly wit his jokes abound,
- Well-bred, he deals good-humour round;
- The maid forgets her fav’rite swain,
- When Dorset speaks, he fights in vain;
- The lover too, do all he can,
- Strives, but in vain, to hate the man.
- With this kind wish I end my lays,
- Be ever young with length of days._
-
-or such appreciation of his Christmas hospitality as this:
-
- _Our liquor at all times to nature gives fire,
- Infuses new blood, and new thoughts can inspire.
- Your wife, she may scold, undaunted you’ll sing,
- For he that is drunk is as great as a King._
-
- _In the field, if all night you lie under a willow,
- The soft easy snow shall be your down pillow.
- There’s nothing can hurt you without or within
- When you’ve beef in your belly and Punch in your skin._
-
-It is true that certain discordant notes troubled from time to time this
-Georgian harmony. The house-steward killed the black page in the
-passage; and the duke’s sons themselves were unsatisfactory; even the
-favourite son, Lord George, who was the apple of his father’s eye, fell
-into disgrace and was court-martialled on a charge of disobedience and
-cowardice. “I always told you,” said Lord John on hearing of this, “that
-George was no better than myself.” This affair of the battle of Minden
-must have been a heavy blow to the duke, but although Lord George was
-not exonerated he retained all his father’s doting affection. Still, the
-mud had been slung at him and not a little had stuck. The two other sons
-were a source of sorrow: Lord John, after devoting his youth to cricket,
-went off his head; and Lord Middlesex, the eldest of the three, was an
-altogether deplorable character, prompting these verses, based upon an
-old saying about the family:
-
- _Folly and sense in Dorset’s race
- Alternately do run,
- As Carey one day told his Grace
- Praising his eldest son._
-
- _But Carey must allow for once
- Exception to this rule,
- For Middlesex is but a dunce,
- Though Dorset be a fool._
-
-I quote the verses as they stand, though “dunce” seems scarcely the
-right description to apply to Lord Middlesex, that dissolute and
-extravagant man of fashion, who squandered large sums of money upon
-producing operas, that “proud, disgusted, melancholy, solitary man,”
-whose conduct savoured so strongly of madness. Certain family
-characteristics appeared in him which had skipped his father, and his
-father and he, consequently and not unnaturally, were not on very good
-terms. The duke, indeed, did not know what to make of his eldest son and
-heir. “Upon my word, Mr. Cary,” he said, when Mr. Cary asked him loudly
-at the play whether Lord Middlesex was to undertake the opera again next
-season, “I have not considered what answer to make to such a question.”
-Both Lord Middlesex and Lord John being so unsatisfactory, Lord George
-was, and remained, his father’s favourite. Lord George, in an even
-greater degree than his father, is an incongruity among the Sackvilles,
-a departure from type. In spite of all his mistakes, his misjudgments,
-and his misfortunes, he was a man of greater ability than most of them,
-of greater energy than the common run of his indolent and
-pleasure-loving race, of a further-reaching ambition. He did not begin
-life as the eldest son, coming in due course to be the head of the
-family, and languidly accepting the civil or diplomatic posts which were
-pressed upon him; such career as he had he made for himself. Unlike his
-predecessors or their descendants, he was neither an ambassador, a poet,
-nor a patron of art or letters—“I have not,” he wrote, “genius
-sufficient for works of _mere imagination_”—but first a soldier and then
-a statesman, both disastrously. It is not my intention to go into the
-details of his public career; my ignorance is too great of the tangle of
-Georgian politics; nor am I qualified to discuss whether he did or did
-not disobey his orders at Minden, whether he was or was not largely
-responsible for the loss of America, whether he did or did not write the
-_Letters of Junius_; such questions are treated in histories of the
-period. Nor can I deal with the enormous number of letters on political
-subjects written both by and to Lord George: I have looked into them
-more than once, and have come away merely bewildered by the
-cross-threads of home politics, by the names of remembered or forgotten
-statesmen, by the fall and reconstruction of Ministries, by the crises
-of Whigs and Tories. So I judge it best to leave Lord George alone,
-“hot, haughty, ambitious, and obstinate, a sort of melancholy in his
-look which runs through all the Sackville family,” and to seek neither
-to blacken nor to whitewash his character. I scarcely regard him as one
-of the Sackvilles, perhaps because he broke away from the family
-traditions into unfamiliar paths, perhaps also because he earned his own
-peerage, inherited a large house of his own, and led an existence
-separate from Knole. Living at Knole among its portraits and its legends
-which grew into the very texture of one’s life, it was, I suppose,
-inevitable that one should grow up with pre-conceived affections or
-indifferences, and for some reason Lord George never awakened my
-interest or my sense of relationship. He was a public character, not a
-relation.
-
-
- § ii
-
-The early impressions of the first duke, who grew to be so pompous,
-stout, and good-natured, and whose three sons gave him in their several
-ways so much anxiety, are not unattractive. There is a picture of him as
-a little slim boy, with his sister and their pet fawn; and there is Lord
-George’s own anecdote of his father’s childhood:
-
- My father, having lost his own mother, was brought up chiefly by the
- Dowager Countess of Northampton, his grandmother. She being
- particularly acceptable to Queen Mary, that Princess commanded her
- always to bring her little grandson, Lord Buckhurst, to Kensington
- Palace, though at that time hardly four years of age, and he was
- allowed to amuse himself with a child’s cart in the gallery. King
- William, like almost all Dutchmen, never failed to attend the
- tea-table every evening. It happened that her Majesty having one
- afternoon by his desire made tea, and waiting for the King’s arrival,
- who was engaged on business in his cabinet at the other extremity of
- the gallery, the boy, hearing the Queen express her impatience at the
- delay, ran away to the closet, dragging after him the cart. When he
- arrived at the door, he knocked, and the King asking “Who is there?”
- “Lord Buck,” answered he. “And what does Lord Buck want with me?”
- replied his Majesty. “You must come to tea directly,” said he, “the
- Queen is waiting for you.” King William immediately laid down his pen
- and opened the door. Then taking the child in his arms, he placed Lord
- Buckhurst in the cart, and seizing the pole drew them both along the
- gallery to the room in which were seated the Queen, Lady Northampton,
- and the company. But no sooner had he entered the apartment, than,
- exhausted with the effort, which had forced the blood upon his lungs,
- and being constitutionally asthmatic, he threw himself into a chair,
- and for some minutes was incapable of uttering a word, breathing with
- the utmost difficulty. The Countess of Northampton, shocked at the
- consequences of her grandson’s indiscretion, would have punished him,
- but the King intervened on his behalf.
-
-When a young man he went on the inevitable Grand Tour. This journey, it
-is fair to assume, which was taken at the instigation of his mother’s
-relations, was designed to keep him away from the influence of his
-enfeebled father and of his step-mother, Ann Roche, quite as much as for
-the benefit of his education. His father was very angry at this
-withdrawal of his son from his authority, and wrote to him:
-
- i hear my Lady Northampton has ordered you not to obey me; if you take
- any notice of what she says i have enough in my power to make you
- suffer for it beyond what she will make you amends for. But i cannot
- imagine you to be such a fool as to be governed by the passion and
- folly of anybody.
-
- Your affectionate father,
- DORSET.
-
- i expect you will come away by the next yocht.
-
-The next yacht, however, came away without Lord Buckhurst, and the young
-man did not return to England until after his father’s death. Shortly
-after his succession and return he married Elizabeth Colyear, his “dear,
-dear Colly,” and was appointed Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports at a
-salary of £160 a year, and Lieutenant of Dover Castle at £50. This is
-the menu and cost of the dinner given by the youthful Lord Warden at
-Dover Castle on the 16th August 1709 on his being appointed by Queen
-Anne:
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- 5 Soups 3 0 0
- 12 dishes of fish 10 16 0
- 1 Westphalia Ham and five fowls 1 6 0
- 8 dishes of pullets and oysters, with bacon 4 16 0
- 10 Almond puddings 3 0 0
- 12 haunches of venison, roast 1 16 0
- 6 dishes of roast pigs 2 2 0
- 3 dishes of roast geese 1 4 0
- 12 Venison pasties 6 0 0
- 12 white Fragacies with Peetets 7 4 0
- 8 dishes of “ragged” veal 4 16 0
-
- _Second Course_
- 14 dishes of ducks, turkey, and pigeons 8 0 0
- 15 codlin tarts, creamed 4 10 0
- 12 dishes of roast lobster 4 16 0
- 12 dishes of umble pies 4 4 0
- 10 dishes of fried fish 5 0 0
- 8 dishes of Chickens and rabbits 4 0 0
-
- _Ryders_
- 5 dishes of dried sweetmeats 17 10 0
- 12 dishes of jelly 4 16 0
- 6 dishes of Selebub cream 2 8 0
- 13 dishes of fruit 10 0 0
- 8 dishes of Almond Pies gilt 4 16 0
- 12 dishes of Custard Florentines 3 12 0
- 8 dishes of lobster 3 4 0
- 120 Intermediate plates of sorts 9 0 0
-
- _Side-Table_
- A large chine of beef stuck with flags and banners 5 10 0
- 1 loaf of double refined sugar 0 4 6
- Oil and vinegar 0 3 0
- Outcharges and expenses of pewter, carriage, bread,
- wharfage, turnspits, glasses, mugs, for ten men,
- horses, use of bakehouse, cooks, coach hire 76 16 9
-
-This was an office he held intermittently for many years, and on one
-occasion, England being then at war with Spain, two hundred and fifty
-butts, eight hogsheads, and fifty quarter casks of Spanish mountain
-wine, and one hundred jars of Raisins of the Sun, being washed up at
-Deal and Sandwich, they were adjudged to him as the Lord Warden’s
-perquisite of flotsam and jetsam.
-
-In 1714 died Queen Anne, and Lord Dorset, with others, was sent to
-Hanover to announce to George his accession to the English throne. He
-returned from Hanover with the new King, and drove with him in his coach
-from Greenwich to London. On the way George related that thirty-three
-years earlier he had travelled to England as a suitor for the hand of
-Queen Anne: returning to Gravesend after the failure of his mission, he
-rode a common post-horse, which gave him a fall, so that he arrived at
-Gravesend covered with mud. The King amused himself in the coach with
-looking out for the place where this misfortune had come upon him, and
-pointed it out to Lord Dorset, who no doubt joined politely in the
-laughter.
-
-Thus began that curious reign of a King who did not know the language of
-his adopted country, who spent as much time in his Hanoverian as in his
-English estates, and infinitely preferred them, who surrounded himself
-with German courtiers and mistresses, and who locked up his wife for
-two-and-thirty years as a punishment for her infidelity. The solemnity
-of Lord Dorset cannot have been out of place in such a court. Honours
-now crowded rapidly upon him, although at one moment he was temporarily
-deprived of all his offices for taking part in political intrigues. He
-was made a Knight of the Garter, six years later he was made a duke, he
-was given the office of Lord Steward, and finally he entered upon the
-first lap of his unfortunate career as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
-Before this, however, he was for the second time called upon to be the
-bearer of news of accession to a King of England. I give the account in
-Lord George’s words:
-
- When the intelligence of his [George I’s] decease, which took place
- near Osnabrugh, in the end of July 1727, arrived in London, the
- Cabinet having immediately met, thought proper to dispatch the Duke of
- Dorset with the news to the Prince of Wales. He then resided at Kew,
- in a state of great alienation from the King, the two Courts
- maintaining no communication. Some little time being indispensable to
- enable my father to appear in a suitable manner before the new
- monarch, he sent forward the Duchess his wife, in order to announce
- the event. She arrived at Kew just as the Prince, according to his
- invariable custom, having undressed himself after dinner, had laid
- down in bed. The Duchess demanding permission to see him immediately,
- on business of the greatest importance, the servants acquainted the
- Princess of Wales with her arrival; and the Duchess, without a
- moment’s hesitation, informed her Royal Highness, that George the
- First lay dead at Osnabrugh, that the Cabinet had ordered her husband
- to be the bearer of the intelligence to his successor, and that the
- Duke would follow her in a short time. She added that not a moment
- should be lost in communicating so great an event to the Prince, as
- the Ministers wished him to come up to London that same evening, in
- order to summon a Privy Council, to issue a proclamation, and take
- other requisite measures, at the commencement of a new reign.
-
- To the propriety of all these steps the Princess assented; but at the
- same time informed the Duchess, that she could not venture to enter
- her husband’s room, as he had only just taken off his clothes and
- composed himself to sleep. “Besides,” added she, “the Prince will not
- give credit to the intelligence, but will exclaim that it is a
- fabrication, designed for the purpose of exposing him.” The Duchess
- continued nevertheless to remonstrate with her Royal Highness, on the
- injurious consequences of losing time, and adding that the Duke of
- Dorset would expect to find the Prince not only apprised of it, but
- ready to accompany him to London. The Princess of Wales took off her
- shoes, opened the chamber door softly, and advanced up to the bedside,
- while my mother remained at the threshold, till she should be allowed
- to enter the apartment. As soon as the Princess came near the bed, a
- voice from under the clothes cried out in German, _Was ist das?_ “I am
- come, sir,” answered she, “to announce to you the death of the King,
- which has taken place in Germany.” “That is one damned trick,”
- returned the Prince, “I do not believe one word of it.” “Sir,” said
- the Princess, “it is most certain. The Duchess of Dorset has just
- brought the intelligence, and the Duke will be here immediately. The
- Ministers hope that you will repair to town this very evening, as your
- presence there is indispensable.” Her Royal Highness then threw
- herself on her knees, to kiss the new King’s hand; and beckoning to
- the Duchess of Dorset to advance, she came in likewise, knelt down,
- and assured him of the indisputable truth of his father’s decease.
- Convinced at length of the fact, he consented to get up and dress
- himself. The Duke of Dorset arriving in his coach and six, almost
- immediately afterwards, George the Second quitted Kew the same evening
- for London.
-
-George the Second, as Prince of Wales, had been on terms of personal
-friendship with the duke. He had stayed at Knole, when half an ox, four
-sheep, and a calf were provided, besides the following items for his
-visit:
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- Butcher 17 0 0
- Bread and flour 4 0 0
- Fowls, butter and eggs 14 15 0
- Poulterer 11 14 0
- Fishmonger 9 4 0
- Confectioner 25 10 0
- Wine 66 0 0
- Beer 35 0 0
- Master-cook’s bill 20 9 0
- To the cooks 37 12 6
- The pewterer 3 12 4
- The carrier 9 0 0
- Lord Lumley’s Grenadiers 3 4 6
- ———— —— —
- £257 1 4
-
-The duke’s first essay in Ireland was not unsuccessful: he left affairs
-alone as far as he possibly could and was tolerably popular. It was only
-the second time, twenty years later, that he and Lord George incurred so
-much dislike. Into the political reasons for this I have already said
-that I will not, because I cannot, enter; I will only quote from a
-curious lampoon, preserved in the British Museum, which was written to
-celebrate the duke’s departure in 1754:
-
-
- Ringing of the Bell
- _or_
- A _Hue_ & _Cry_ after _Raymond_ the _Fox_
- By ROGER SPY, Esq.
-
-The bells are ringing, Hark! how they merrily toll. What is the cause of
-their joy? Or why this cheerful tintinnation? They seem animated, and
-their rejoicing seems sensible, so expressive of triumph and hilarity
-are their peals, treble, bass and tenor make excellent harmony, and
-strike the very heart; the ringers themselves pull with pleasure—what is
-it they toll forth, or what may the bells be supposed to say?
-
- _Interpreter_
-
- I’ll tell you what they say ...
-
- _St. Patrick’s_
-
- He was full of Pa-pa tricks,
- Says the bell of St. Patrick’s.
-
- _St. Mary_
-
- I wonder how dare he,
- Says the bell of St. Mary.
-
- _St. Bride_
-
- Our acts he belied,
- Says the bell of St. Bride.
-
- _St. Ann_
-
- He played Cat-in-Pan,
- Says the bell of St. Ann.
-
- _St. Andrew_
-
- Bad swash as e’er man drew,
- Says the bell of St. Andrew.
-
- _St. Peter_
-
- No vinegar sweeter,
- Says the bell of St. Peter.
-
- _St. Owen_
-
- In mischief full knowing,
- Says the bell of St. Owen.
-
- _St. Thomas_
-
- The Lord keep him from us,
- Says the bell of St. Thomas.
-
- _St. Nicholas Without_
-
- He put good men out,
- Says St. Nicholas Without.
-
- _St. Nicholas Within_
-
- He put bad men in,
- Says St. Nicholas Within.
-
- _Castle Bell_
-
- You’re a very bad parcel,
- Says the bell of the Castle,
-
-and so on, in the same vein.
-
-His patronage of the actress Peg Woffington sets him in a more personal
-and amiable light. I have no evidence to prove whether he was following
-in the steps of his father; I only know that Peg Woffington’s portrait,
-like that of Nell Gwyn and of the Baccelli, is at Knole; that an old
-play-bill of hers was found behind the panelling in the Great Hall; that
-the duke gave her a command performance at Dublin; and, finally, that
-the following facetious petition—was it written by one of the duke’s
-disrespectful sons?—is among the Knole papers:
-
- To his Grace LIONEL Duke _of_ DORSET, Lord Lieu^t _of_ Ireland
-
- The humble Memorial of MARGARET WOFFINGTON, _Spinster_. Most humbly
- sheweth
-
- That your Memorialist is a woman of great merit and small fortune, and
- would be proud of an opportunity of shewing her zeal for his Majesty’s
- service by her ready acceptance and faithful discharge of any
- employment he shall graciously please to bestow upon her.
-
- That her friends have been at great expense and trouble in procuring
- and perusing the list of the several places on this establishment, and
- find her extremely well qualified to discharge the Office of
- Housekeeper to his Majesty’s Castle as it doth not require much
- greater ability than the Rolls or the Chancellorship of the Exchequer.
-
- That your Memorialist is a true friend to the present Constitution in
- opposition to all Mock Patriots and drinks the Brownlow Majority and
- the Minority for the Money-bill every day devoutly.
-
- That she has already by the assistance of whisky made two considerable
- Proselytes Patrick O’Donoghoe and Thady Foley her Chairman tho’ one of
- them had been closeted by Col. Dilkes and the other taken by the hand
- by Sir Rich^d Cox, and verily believes if the same means were
- employed, the Opposition would soon lose its principal supporters.
-
- That your Memorialist can produce two of the greatest Polemical
- Writers of the present Age in support of her character, 1st. Peter
- Willson who has abused her more than once in his _Universal
- Advertiser_—an honour which he is never known to confer on any but
- persons of the first ranks and character. 2^{dly} Geo. Faulkner, in
- whose impartial Journal are contained a Score of Poems, One Dozen of
- Sonnets, Six letters from some of the best Critics, if you will take
- their own words for it, four Epigrams, besides occasional paragraphs,
- all composed in her praise, and which are at least as well written as
- they are printed.
-
- That your Memorialist is little versed in the Housekeeper’s
- Arithmetic, having never been instructed in the doctrine of Items,
- Dittos, Sums Total and Balances, which circumstance, it is conceived,
- will turn out greatly to the advantage of the Government.
-
- That her personal attachment to your Grace is so well known, that odd
- reports have been raised in relation to some intimacies that have past
- between two persons that shall be nameless, and which she defies her
- adversaries to prove.
-
- Wherefore she humbly hopes that Your Grace will take the premises into
- your serious consideration, and oblige the present Incumbent to resign
- the said office, your Memorialist paying her the full value thereof,
- or if she continues obstinate as old women are apt to do, and refuses
- to sell, that the reversion may be granted to your Petitioner, and the
- rather as she conceives, if it be not done under your Grace’s
- administration, there may be some reason to fear it will never be done
- at all.
-
- MARGARET WOFFINGTON.
-
- _Mem_: She is ready and willing to act as first Chambermaid to your
- Grace, to warm your bed and tuck you in, which, as she is advised and
- verily believes, the present Housekeeper is in no manner qualified to
- do.
-
-
- § iii
-
-I have already mentioned Lady Betty Germaine, who, during the lifetime
-of the first duke and duchess, lived almost entirely at Knole and had
-three rooms—her bedroom, her sitting-room, and her china closet—set
-aside for her exclusive use. This little prim lady, to whom the three
-little rooms must have provided so apposite a frame, occupied her time
-in writing letters, in stitching at crewel work with brightly-coloured
-wools, in making pot-pourri to fill the bowls on the window ledges, and
-in telling anecdotes of Queen Anne, whose lady-in-waiting she had once
-been, since to her, no doubt, in common with all human nature, the days
-which were the past were preferable to the days which were the present.
-She was, primarily, the friend of the Duchess of Dorset, and for once a
-woman was installed in the house whose coiffure and petticoats the wind
-of scandal was unable to ruffle. They composed she, the duchess, the
-duke, and Lord George, a harmonious quartette, whose correspondence
-survives, voluminous and intimate, pricked into sharper highlights here
-and there by the pen of Swift. “As to my duchess,” writes Lady Betty,
-“she is so reserved that perhaps she may not be at first so much
-admired.” The duke she thought “great-souled,” and it must have been an
-occasion of great distress to her that her friend Swift should not
-always share her views:
-
- Madam [_he writes to her after failing to obtain some favour from
- Dorset_], I owe your Ladyship the acknowledgement of a letter I have
- long received, relating to a request I made to my Lord Duke. I now
- dismiss you, Madam, from your office of being a go-between upon any
- affair I might have with his Grace. I will never more trouble him,
- either with my visits or application. His business in this kingdom is
- to make himself easy; his lessons are all prescribed for him from
- Court; and he is sure, at a very cheap rate, to have a majority of
- most corrupt slaves and idiots at his devotion. The happiness of this
- Kingdom is of no more consequence to him than it would be to the Great
- Mogul....
-
-[Illustration:
-
- LADY BETTY GERMAINE
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ C. PHILLIPS
-]
-
-One wonders whether such suggestions troubled Lady Betty. Was it
-possible that her great-souled friend would not be Lord Steward and Lord
-Lieutenant of Ireland and Lord Warden and Lord Lieutenant of Kent, did
-he not also happen to be Duke of Dorset? Was it possible that people
-such as the Sackvilles occasionally occupied positions due to their
-birth rather than to their intellect? Was it true that he, and
-particularly Lord George, cared for their own advancement rather than
-for the credit of England?—they who _were_ England, who shared the blood
-of the Tudors and the Howards and the Spencers and the Cliffords? whose
-house was quarried from Kentish rock? whose oaks and beeches were rooted
-so deep into the soil of England? Lady Betty herself, who as Lady Betty
-Berkeley had come from that most ancient castle—that rose-and-grey
-castle, the colour of her own dried rose-leaves, the castle that, squat,
-romantic, and uncouth, brooded over the Severn across the meadows of
-Gloucestershire—Lady Betty herself was of all people least qualified or
-likely to criticize. The household at Knole was ordered on a magnificent
-scale, with the duke and duchess and their guest at the apex of the
-pyramid which reposed on the base of five servants at £20 each, two at
-£15, two at £10 10_s._, seven at £10, two at £8, thirteen at £6, eight
-at £5, two at £5, one at £2, besides the chaplain who was unsalaried,
-the senior officers, the Steward, the Comptroller, and the Master of the
-Horse at £60, £30, and £25 respectively, Tom Durfey living over the
-dairy, and the rabble of labourers, gardeners, and what-not, of whom
-nobody took any notice. This was life as Lady Betty was accustomed to
-find it ordered. If ever she paused to question its system, no trace of
-her wondering appears in her letters.
-
-She had a house of her own, Drayton, in Northamptonshire, considered by
-Horace Walpole a “venerable heap of ugliness, with many curious bits,”
-which she had inherited from her late husband, who in his turn had
-inherited it from a first wife. This husband of Lady Betty’s is a
-peculiar figure; so peculiar, indeed, so ambiguous, and so equivocal,
-that one wonders at his alliance with the orderly Lady Betty Berkeley,
-unless this may be explained by the fact that he “possessed a very
-handsome person, and was always a distinguished favourite of the other
-Sex.” He was, I gather, a soldier of fortune, of uncertain parentage,
-or, as Lord George Sackville delicately puts it, “believed to stand in a
-very close degree of consanguinity to King William the Third.” William,
-at any rate, brought him over to England from Holland in 1688, knighted
-him, saw to it that he became a member of the House of Commons, and
-assisted him with grants of money; and Germaine, who inherited from his
-father no armorial bearings, was accustomed to use a red cross, which
-might be taken to mean that his actual was higher than his ostensible
-birth. This gentleman combined with the instincts of a collector a
-profound ignorance of artistic matters. His principal pride was his
-collection of “Rarities,” in which he would exhibit the dagger of Henry
-VIII; he believed a certain Sir Matthew Germaine to be the author of St.
-Matthew’s Gospel; and at Drayton, where he was building a colonnade, he
-caused the columns to be placed upside down, as he had mistaken the
-capitals for the pedestals.
-
-This was the man who married Lady Betty Berkeley when she was thirty
-years younger than himself. He had previously been married to the
-Duchess of Norfolk, whose husband divorced her on Sir John Germaine’s
-account. After her death, by which he inherited Drayton, he attached
-himself to the Duke and Duchess of Dorset, who received him with their
-wonted hospitality; but this was not enough: he wanted a brilliant
-alliance, he wanted an heir to Drayton. While at Bristol he “cast his
-eyes upon Lady Betty, whose birth, character, and accomplishments
-rendered her every way worthy of his choice.” They married; and the
-friendship with the Dorsets, to whom Lady Betty was already devoted, was
-strengthened by the new bond. Although the difference in age was so
-considerable, Lady Betty, through her “superior understanding, added to
-the most correct deportment, acquired great influence over him,” and
-when after twelve years of marriage Sir John died, “a martyr to the gout
-as well as to other diseases,” he called his wife to his bedside and
-spoke to her in these terms:
-
- Lady Betty [_said he_], I have made you a very indifferent husband,
- and particularly of late years, when infirmities have rendered me a
- burden to myself, but I shall not be much longer troublesome to you. I
- advise you never again to marry an old man, but I strenuously exhort
- you to marry when I am gone, and I will endeavour to put it in your
- power. You have fulfilled every obligation towards me in an exemplary
- manner, and I wish to demonstrate my sense of your merits. I have,
- therefore, by my will, bequeathed you this estate, which I received
- from my first wife; and which, as she gave to me, so I leave to you. I
- hope you will marry and have children to inherit it. But, if events
- should determine otherwise, it would give me pleasure to think that
- Drayton descended after your decease to a younger son of my friend the
- Duchess of Dorset.
-
-He then passed away, but in one particular Lady Betty did not take his
-advice: she never married again, although she survived him by fifty
-years, and thus it is perhaps that I regard her, with her crewel work,
-her china closet, and her pot-pourri, rather as a spinster than as a
-widow. There is no trace at all at Knole of Sir John Germaine, that
-royal bastard, that handsome and enterprising child of fortune, thanks
-to whom Drayton came into the possession of Lord George and continues to
-this day in the hands of his descendants. Of Lady Betty, on the other
-hand, there are copious traces. There are her rooms, which I have
-already described in the first chapter, her small square four-poster,
-her ring-box, and the painted wooden figure of a lady with the
-_fontange_ of Queen Anne’s day on her head. There is Lady Betty’s own
-portrait, a miniature full-length, in blue brocade. There is yard upon
-yard of her industrious embroidery. There is the pot-pourri which is
-made every summer from her receipt (1750):
-
- Gather dry, Double Violets, Rose Leaves, Lavender, Myrtle flowers,
- Verbena, Bay leaves, Rosemary, Balm, Musk, Geranium. Pick these from
- the stalks and dry on paper in the sun for a day or two before putting
- them in a jar. This should be a large white one, well glazed, with a
- close fitting cover, also a piece of card the exact size of the jar,
- which you must keep pressed down on the flowers. Keep a new wooden
- spoon to stir the salt and flowers from the bottom, before you put in
- a fresh layer of bay salt above and below every layer of flowers. Have
- ready of spices, plenty of Cinnamon, Mace, Nutmeg, and Pepper and
- Lemon-peel pounded. For a large jar ½ lb. Orris root, 1 oz. Storax, 1
- oz. Gum Benjamin, 2 ozs. Calamino Aromatico,[12] 2 grs. Musk, and a
- small quantity of oil of Rhodium. The spice and gums to be added when
- you have collected all the flowers you intend to put in. Mix all well
- together, press it down well, and spread bay salt on the top to
- exclude the air until the January or February following. Keep the jar
- in a cool, dry place.
-
-In the second respect Lady Betty carried out her husband’s wishes, for
-when she died herself at the age of nearly ninety she bequeathed the
-“venerable heap of ugliness” to Lord George, with £20,000 and half the
-residue of her estate.
-
-
- § iv
-
- CHARLES SACKVILLE
-
- 2nd
-
- Duke _of_ Dorset
-
-Since I have avoided all political details, which would have led anyone
-more conversant than myself with the background to the facts into pages
-of dissertation, there remains very little to say of the first Duke of
-Dorset. He died a few years before his dear, dear Colly, and was
-succeeded by his son, that Lord Middlesex to whom I have alluded as
-being so unsatisfactory. There is not much record of this
-good-for-nothing duke, who enjoyed his dukedom only four years, and who
-was married to a “very short, very plain, very yellow, and vain girl,
-full of Greek and Latin.” Apparently he married her no earlier than he
-need, for Horace Walpole writes of “Lord Middlesex’s wedding, which was
-over a week before it was known. I believe the bride told it then, for
-he and all his family are so silent that they would never have mentioned
-it; she might have popped out a child, before a single Sackville would
-have been at the expense of a syllable to justify her.” I have already
-quoted the few epithets I have found relating to this duke, the “proud,
-disgusted, melancholy, solitary man ...” who produced operas and spent
-enormous sums on defending singers in legal actions. He was reputed mad,
-“a disorder which there was too much reason to suppose, ran in the
-blood”; he was certainly eccentric; and there is a large picture of him
-in the ball-room at Knole dressed as a Roman emperor, with bare knees, a
-plumed helmet on his head, and various pieces of armour. Besides these
-scanty documents, there are some verses which scarcely entitle him to be
-called a poet: _Arno’s Vale_, which I have never read, and which is
-addressed to a certain Madame Muscovita, whose portrait is at Knole; and
-others which are at Knole, for instance:
-
-[Illustration:
-
- LADY BETTY GERMAINE’S BEDROOM AT KNOLE
-]
-
-
- DUCK HUNTING
-
- _Hard by where Knole’s exalted towers rise
- Upon a green smooth plain a pond there lies,
- With verdant grass encircled round, a place
- Seated commodiously the duck to chase.
- Here in the heat of day the youths for sport
- With well-taught spaniels to the pond resort.
- The youths on ev’ry side the pond surround,
- With fav’ring cries the hollow woods resound.
- The eager dogs with barking rend the skies
- Until encouraged by their masters’ cries
- They plunge into the stream: the stream before ’em flies.
- Rover, the first that plung’d, the first in fame
- And one from Charles’s noble breed that came.
- The next came Trip, tho’ of a bastard race,
- And smaller size, he swam the next in place.
- The last came Ranger, with his spotted back,
- That swam but slow: the gravest of the pack.
- His deep rough voice was of a hoarser sound
- With long red ears that swept along the ground....
- And thus the sport goes on, till weary grown,
- And ev’ryone is willing to go home.
- The weary duck at last swims close to land;
- They take her up with a kind, pitying hand.
- Of every spannel they extoll the praise
- And all their virtues to the skies they raise.
- And then they, weary, homewards take their way,
- And drown in sprightly bowls the labours of the day._
-
-The duke’s poems are worthless, of course, but among the Knole papers of
-this date is one which I cannot forbear from reproducing:
-
- AN EPISTLE _from_ DAME I ... L ... _to the_ REVD. MR. B ...
-
- _Sweet youth, ’tis hard thy innocence should be
- A source of scandal and reproach to me.
- Nay, blush not—with reluctance I prevail
- O’er innate modesty to own the tale._
-
- _That fatal day when first I saw thy face
- And marked each angel-look and smiling grace,
- Thy fair idea struck my tender heart,
- And, oh! remained, though thou didst soon depart;
- Maternal love, methought, thou didst inspire,
- Around my heart still played the lambent fire.
- Thoughtless of harm, why should I aught conceal?
- A friend I meet, and thus the truth reveal_:
-
- “_Say, didst thou mark that dove-like form to-day,
- Those eyes that languished with so mild a ray?
- Can fleecy lambs such innocence disclose,
- E’er glowed such blushes on the opening rose?
- Safe could I take the youngster to my bed
- And on my bosom fondly rest his head,
- Harmless the tedious night were so beguiled;
- So watch fond mothers o’er the sucking child._”
-
- _That seeming friend betrayed me, and began
- To whisper through the house, “I loved the man.”
- Then memory spread and worse suspicions rose,
- And searching spies broke in on my repose;
- Nor chamber, closet, bed, were sacred then:
- They sought to find_ thee, _ah! they sought in vain!
- Thou wrapped in innocence might sleeping be,
- Unconscious of the woes I bore for thee._
-
- _The uproar now withdrawn, I strive to rest,
- And throw my arms across my pensive breast.
- Soon as my eyelids close I see thy form,
- Pure as the snow-drop, yet in blushes warm.
- But oh! what followed?—strange effect of fright,
- I dreamed that in my bed thou pass’t the night ..._
-
- _Come, with thy innocence, thy smiles impart
- Fresh joy to me, and mend each wicked heart,
- Talk much of charity, and_ Love, _too, teach:
- ’Tis mine to suffer, but ’tis thine to preach_.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VIII
- Knole at the End of the Eighteenth Century
- JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE
- 3rd
- Duke _of_ Dorset
-
-
- § i
-
-The portrait by Gainsborough in the ball-room is of a man with a curved
-mouth, deep grey eyes, and powdered hair brushed back off his forehead.
-He looks out from the oval of his framing, beautiful and melancholy. “I
-have always looked on him as the most dangerous of men,” said the
-Duchess of Devonshire, “for with that beauty of his he is so unaffected,
-and has a simplicity and a persuasion in his manner that makes one
-account very easily for the number of women he has had in love with
-him.” There is much in him which recalls his forefather, Charles, the
-Dorset of the Restoration, but this is a personality less opulent, less
-voluminous, more wistful and more romantic; all his accessories are
-essentially of the eighteenth century—his Chinese page, his diamonds,
-his scarf-pin, his Italian mistress who caused so much scandal by
-dancing at the Opera in Paris with his Garter bound about her forehead.
-He is the immediate precursor of the generation which replaced by Gothic
-the Tudor windows in the Orangery, made serpentine some of the straight
-paths in the garden, and decorated the windows in the Colonnade with
-representations of knights in full armour. He himself escaped the
-baronial tendencies. He belonged to an age more delicate, more
-exquisite; an age of quizzing glasses, of flowered waistcoats, of
-buckled shoes, and of slim bejewelled swords. When he had his mistress
-sculpted, it was lying full-length on a couch, naked save for a single
-rose looping up her hair. When he had her drawn, it was pointing her
-little foot in the first step of a dance, a tambourine in her hand, and
-the Chinese boy in the background. When he wrote to his friends, it was
-in a bored, nonchalant style, half in English and half in French. His
-manner was “soft, quiet, and ingratiating.” He treated the women who
-loved him with an easy heartlessness which failed to diminish their
-affection. He was possessed of no very great talents but those
-calculated to render life agreeable to him in the circles into which he
-was born, for it was his good fortune to be born handsome, rich,
-charming, and a duke, in a century when those qualifications were a
-certain passport to success.
-
-John Frederick Sackville became Duke of Dorset at the age of
-twenty-four. He was the son of that Lord John Sackville who passes
-across the annals of the family early in life as a poet and cricketer,
-and later as a sad and shabby figure, “always dirtily clad,” living
-under mild restraint at Vevey, a victim to melancholia. There was,
-however, no hint as yet of this hereditary strangeness of temper in his
-son, the new Duke of Dorset. The young man came brilliantly into his new
-possessions, paid the undertaker £66 6_s._ for the late duke’s funeral,
-paid the Sheriff £418 2_s._ for “things taken at Knole”—from which it
-would seem that the late duke had died in debt—bought four thousand
-ounces of silver, and entertained his neighbours and tenantry to a feast
-in celebration of his succession, at which sixty stone of beef, mutton,
-and veal were consumed, thirty-four pounds of wax-lights used, and
-musicians provided. It is curious to see how the price of wine had
-altered between the days of Charles II and this time; namely, 1769.
-Claret now cost 54_s._ a dozen, Burgundy 60_s._ a dozen, Champagne
-97_s._ a dozen, and port for the servants’ table cost 20_s._ a dozen, in
-comparison with the few shillings paid per gallon a century earlier. The
-only thing which did not [_see_ p. 133] alter in proportion is beer, for
-which 35_s._ a hogshead was paid in the seventeenth century and £2
-10_s._ a hogshead in the eighteenth. The young duke’s time, we are told,
-was “devoted to gallantry and pleasure among the fashionable circles as
-well in France and Italy as in England,” a phrase which begins to
-acquire a fatally familiar ring through the generations of the family.
-Perhaps nothing else could reasonably be expected of him. Life offered
-him too great an ease and too many advantages; why should he have
-rejected them? Before he had been for a year in the enjoyment of his
-honours and estates he had set out on the Grand Tour accompanied by the
-celebrated Nancy Parsons and a train of singers, actors, and Bohemians,
-who clustered round him in every European capital which he visited.
-Echoes of his extravagance and his escapades come down to us from Paris
-and from Rome. He entertained lavishly every evening, inviting only
-those who could amuse his already blasé appetite; he rescued his Nancy
-Parsons in the nick of time as she was about to be abducted from a
-masked ball by a noble Venetian; he indulged his taste for the fine arts
-“even beyond the limits of his fortune”; he bought a Perugino, he bought
-a doubtful Titian, and a number of Italian primitives; he bought from a
-Mr. Jenkins in Rome “_the figure of Demosthenes in the act of delivering
-an oration_, a fine Grecian relick in marble,” and a bronze cast of the
-Gladiator Repellens, on whose shield he caused his own coat-of-arms to
-be embossed. This kind of existence he continued to lead for two or
-three years, when he threw over Nancy Parsons, returned to England, and
-became the lover of a Mrs. Elizabeth Armistead. Meanwhile, it appears
-from his account-books that large sums were being spent by his orders on
-both outdoor and indoor repairs at Knole. He put down new floors,
-altered some of the windows, and bought further enormous quantities of
-silver, 5920 ounces in one year alone, costing £2463 17_s._ 7_d._, and
-including a hundred and forty-four silver plates, eight dozen each of
-forks and spoons, dishes of all kinds, covers, and tureens. Occupied
-with Knole, love affairs, and cricket, he dawdled away a particularly
-gilded youth. Details from his account-books give a good idea of his
-expenses and occupations:
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- Mrs. Gardiner, lace ruffles 41 0 0
- Butler, new chain 80 0 0
- Opera, expenses last winter 17 19 0
- Opera, subscription 21 0 0
- Paid Sir Joshua Reynolds 78 15 0
-
-Mrs. Elizabeth Armistead reigned for three years, but the duke had other
-diversions in other circles: the gay, frivolous, and wanton Lady Betty
-Hamilton, trailing from ball to ball with her suitors in her wake, set
-her heart upon him, and he, not unresponsive, was ready to trifle so
-long as he was not expected to marry. Lady Betty was finally married off
-to Lord Derby, reputed the ugliest and the richest peer in England.
-
- Many were the means employed till Lord Derby’s constant and assiduous
- care veiled the ugliness of his person before the idol he worshipped.
- Time and despair made Lady Betty give a hasty and undigested consent.
- After a day of persecutions from every quarter, while a hair-dresser
- was adorning her unhappy head, she traced the consent with a pencil on
- a scrap of paper, and sent it wet with her tears to her mother.
-
-A re-shuffle now took place: the duke became the new Lady Derby’s lover,
-and Lord Derby became the lover of Mrs. Armistead. This arrangement,
-however, was not of long duration. Lord Derby fell in love with
-Elizabeth Farren; Lady Derby, it was rumoured, ran away and had to be
-brought back by her brother, the Duke of Hamilton: still bent upon
-marrying the Duke of Dorset, she wished to divorce Lord Derby, but was
-foiled by the prudence of Miss Farren. The gossips of London were much
-excited by all these occurrences. Lady Sarah Lennox wrote: “It is no
-scandal to tell you it is imagined that the Duke of Dorset will marry
-Lady Derby. I am told she has been and still is most thoroughly attached
-to him.” It would be satisfactory to know exactly what part Dorset
-played; I fear not a very creditable one. Lady Derby was an impulsive,
-headstrong, attractive creature, capable of real passion under all her
-lightheartedness and easy virtue; her husband was unfaithful to her; her
-rival more sage and experienced than she herself; her lover ready to
-take what he could without incurring an irksome responsibility. My
-grandfather’s sister, Lady Derby, used to show at Knowsley the window
-through which the Duke of Dorset was reported to have been admitted to
-the house, disguised as a gardener, and it was commonly supposed that
-the infant Lady Elizabeth Stanley was in reality the duke’s daughter.
-But when the affair threatened to become too serious he was only too
-ready to resume his travels abroad.
-
-I can only suppose that it was during one of his absences that Horace
-Walpole went to Knole and found it not at all to his liking, for he
-draws a picture of the place in a state of desertion which would surely
-not have been warranted had the duke and his household been in
-occupation:
-
- I came to Knole [_he writes to Lady Ossory_], and that was a medley of
- various feelings! Elizabeth and Burleigh and Buckhurst; and then
- Charles [_he means Richard_] and Anne, Dorset and Pembroke, and Sir
- Edward Sackville, and then a more engaging Dorset, and Villiers and
- Prior, and then the old duke and duchess, and Lady Betty Germaine, and
- the court of George II.
-
- The place is stripped of its beeches and honours, and has neither
- beauty nor prospects. The house, extensive as it is, seemed dwindled
- to the front of a college, and has the silence and solitude of one. It
- wants the cohorts of retainers, and the bustling jollity of the old
- nobility, to disperse the gloom. I worship all its faded splendour,
- and enjoy its preservation, and could have wandered over it for hours
- with satisfaction, but there was such a heterogenous housekeeper as
- poisoned all my enthusiasm. She was more like one of Mrs. St. John’s
- Abigails than an inhabitant of a venerable mansion, and shuffled about
- in slippers, and seemed to _admire_ how I could care about the
- pictures of such old _frights_ as covered the walls.
-
-
- § ii
-
-I have said that cricket as well as love affairs occupied the duke’s
-time, and in this he was only carrying on the tradition begun by his
-father and his uncle, who were both enthusiastic cricketers and took
-part in the first match recorded as having been played at Sevenoaks, in
-1734, between Kent and Sussex, Lord John Sackville and Lord Middlesex
-playing, of course, for Kent. Six years later Sevenoaks played London on
-the famous Vine cricket ground at Sevenoaks—the first match recorded on
-the Vine. The young Duke of Dorset inherited his father’s taste, keeping
-in his employ professional cricketers such as Bowra, Miller, and
-Minskull, and we have endless details of the matches played, an old
-print of one match taking place on the Vine between the duke’s men and
-Sir Horace Mann’s men, which shows the players all wearing jockey-caps
-and finally a number of cricketing ballads, more noticeable for their
-enthusiasm than for their excellence:
-
- _His Grace the Duke of Dorset came_ [we read],
- _The next enrolled in skilful fame.
- Equalled by few, he plays with glee,
- Nor peevish seeks for victory,
- And far unlike the modern way
- Of blocking every ball at play,
- He firmly stands with bat upright
- And strikes with his athletic might,
- Sends forth the ball across the mead
- And scores six notches for the deed._
-
-There is in particular a great contest between Kent and Surrey,
-celebrated in a ballad of sixty-five verses, in which
-
- _The fieldsmen, stationed on the lawn,
- Well able to endure,
- Their loins with snow-white satin vests
- That day had guarded sure_,
-
-and it is related that in this match also the Duke of Dorset was playing
-for the honour of his county, for we are told that
-
- _Young Dorset, like a baron bold,
- His jetty hair undrest,
- Ran foremost of the company,
- Clad in a milk-white vest._
-
-Despite the efforts of the duke and the men of Kent, they were defeated
-by Surrey, and the duke met with disaster:
-
- _“O heavy news!” the Rector cried,
- “The Vine can witness be,
- We have not any cricketer
- Of such account as he.”_
-
-It is satisfactory to learn that in the return match Surrey was beaten.
-
-
- § iii
-
-We come now to the period when “the gay Duke of Dorset became ambassador
-in Paris,” and “his encouragement of the Parisian ballet was the
-amazement and envy of his age.” It is entertaining, and rather sad, to
-read both his official despatches from Paris and his private letters to
-his friends, and to reflect that while he was writing to the Duchess of
-Devonshire, “I suppose you will hear talk of my ball, it has made a
-great noise at Paris”; or to the Foreign Office, “It is hardly possible
-to conceive a moment of more perfect tranquility than the present, the
-French government, free from the late causes of its anxiety, appears
-entirely bent upon improving the advantages of peace,”—it is sad, and
-certainly ironical, to reflect that the taking of the Bastille was
-distant by a paltry three years. With no foreboding of those tremendous
-events, which more than any war, more even than the career of Napoleon,
-were to change the fortunes of humanity, the Court of France and the
-English envoy continued on their course of enjoyment. The Duke of Dorset
-became, naturally, extremely popular in Paris. He was himself not sure
-that he wholly liked the French:
-
- All the French are _aimable, si vous voulez_, but they are capricious
- and inconstant, especially the women [_he wrote home to the Duchess of
- Devonshire_]; in short, I have really no friend here but Mrs. B.
- [Marie Antoinette], and then I see her so seldom that I forget half
- what I want to say to her. The Frenchmen are all jealous and
- treacherous, so that between the capriciousness of the fair sex and
- the want of confidence I have in the other _je me sens vraiment
- malheureux_, I assure you, my dearest duchess.
-
-But the French had no corresponding fault to find. The English
-ambassador was princely and lavish; he was spending money, as he himself
-owned, at the rate of £11,000 a year; he was greatly in the Queen’s
-favour, so greatly that he has been included by certain authorities
-(notably Tilly) in their lists of her lovers. Sir Nathaniel Wraxall,
-who, although an inaccurate was yet a contemporary writer, says that
-this was not so, and that he has seen a letter-case, preserved by the
-duke, full of Marie Antoinette’s notes addressed to him. Wraxall says
-that they were written on private concerns, commissions that she
-requested him to execute for her, principally regarding English articles
-of dress or ornament, and other innocent and unimportant matters.
-Whether Dorset was or was not her lover is not of the smallest
-importance; and surely no one would grudge, at this distance of time,
-any pleasure that a princess so young and so unfortunate might have
-enjoyed in life.
-
-A question in which the Duke was naturally much interested was the
-affair of the diamond necklace. His despatches to the Foreign Office are
-full of references to the story, from August 1785 onwards:
-
- The usually credited account is, that the Cardinal [de Rohan] has
- forged an order from the Queen to the Jeweller of the Crown to deliver
- to him diamonds to the amount of 1,600,000 livres, and which diamonds
- he actually received. What makes this event the more extraordinary is
- that the Cardinal is known to be a man of extremely good parts, and is
- in the enjoyment of the greatest honour and revenues to which any
- subject in the Church can aspire.
-
-And again:
-
- Mme. de la Motte, from an apprehension that her life is in danger,
- affects to have lost her senses. The jailer, upon entering her room
- the day before yesterday, was some time before he discovered her, and
- at length found her under her bed, quite naked.
-
-It would, of course, take up too much space to give all Dorset’s
-despatches on this subject. I mention them chiefly because a large
-proportion of the diamonds composing the original necklace are at Knole,
-one half having been purchased by the Duke of Dorset after the necklace
-had been split up and brought to England, and the other half by the Duke
-of Sutherland. This, at least, is the tradition; and there is some
-evidence to support it, in a receipt among the Knole papers:
-
- =Received= of his Grace the DUKE of DORSET nine hundred and
- seventy-five pounds for a brilliant necklace.
-
- £975 For Mr. JEFFERYS and self, W M JONES.
-
-and this receipt is endorsed “Paid 1790,” which tallies with the date
-when the necklace was sold by De la Motte to Jefferys, a jeweller in
-Piccadilly. They are beautiful diamonds, small, but very blue, and are
-set at present in the shape of a tasselled diadem.
-
-Another topic which temporarily exercised the duke while in Paris was
-the “very extraordinary proposal” made to the French Government by a M.
-Montgolfier to
-
- construct a balloon of a certain diameter to carry sixteen persons.
- The project [_the despatch continues_] is to carry on a trade between
- this part and the South of France; Paris and Marseilles are the two
- places named. The balloon is to be freighted with plate glass, and the
- return to be made in reams of paper. M. de Calonne has hitherto
- received the proposal with great coolness, as M. Montgolfier requires
- an advance of 60,000 livres Tournais. It is, however, under
- contemplation, as M. Montgolfier has declared his intention of making
- the offer to our government in case he does not meet with
- encouragement here. It is said that the Comptroller General rather
- discourages enterprises of this sort, as any further progress in the
- art of conducting balloons might tend to prejudice the revenues of the
- City of Paris, which will shortly be surrounded by a wall, the cost of
- which is estimated at four or five millions.
-
-The duke naturally thought M. Montgolfier’s plans nonsensical:
-
- I should almost scruple to mention to your Lordship an undertaking so
- extraordinary [_he says_] had I not heard from exceedingly good
- authority that such a plan is seriously in agitation. Great credit is
- given to M. Montgolfier’s superior skill in these matters, and that
- gentleman’s friends are sanguine in their expectations of his success.
- The weight he proposes to carry _exceeds that of a waggon-load_!
-
-He gives some further details of what M. Montgolfier, who “pretends to
-have at last discovered means of directing the course of Balloons,”
-proposes to do:
-
- He has obtained the sanction of M. de Calonne for his first
- experiment, which is to be made the first day of next May, when he
- engages to depart from a town in Auvergne, distant from Paris 150
- miles, and to descend at or near this City in the space of seven
- hours.
-
-A month later he writes:
-
- The government has at last accepted M. Montgolfier’s proposal. 30,000
- livres are to be granted to him in advance for the experiment, and if
- it succeeds the whole of his expenses will be paid without any
- examination of his accounts, a pension granted to him, and every
- honorary recompense bestowed on him to which he can aspire. He
- pretends to have discovered the means of guiding his machine, but it
- was not till after his project to England, in case of refusal here,
- that it was accepted.
-
-On such topics as the diamond necklace and M. Montgolfier and current
-affairs Dorset beguiled his leisure and that of the Foreign Office.
-There is no indication that he detected any signs of the trouble in
-store. It is true that occasionally he writes in this strain:
-
- Their Majesties, the Dauphin, and the rest of the Royal family, are
- removed from Fontainebleau to Versailles. The expenses attending these
- journeys of the Court is incredible. The duc de Polignac told me that
- he had given orders for 2115 horses for this service.... Besides this,
- an adequate proportion of horses are ordered for the removal of the
- heavy baggage.... It is asserted that M. de Calonne will be under the
- necessity of borrowing at least eight millions of livres next year,
-
-and that after the fall of the Bastille he was moved to write: “I really
-think it necessary that some public caution be given to put those upon
-their guard who may propose to visit this part of the continent.” But
-beyond these occasional comments he does not seem to have been troubled
-by any thoughts of the future. He did not foresee that his friend “Mrs.
-B.,” to whom after his return to England he continued to supply English
-gloves, would lose upon the scaffold that little head which had carried
-so gaily the butterfly or the frigate, or that within two or three
-years’ time the English newspapers would be writing: “The Duke of
-Dorset’s seat at Knole is a place of rendezvous for the banished French
-_noblesse_ at this time resident in England,” or that he would be
-entertaining there as a fugitive his friend Champcenetz, a young officer
-in the Swiss Guards and author of a “_Petit traité de l’amour des femmes
-pour les sots_.” Dorset would no doubt have proved a perfectly adequate
-ambassador in normal times, but that vast situation with its infinite
-ramifications was beyond an intellect that accepted for granted the
-existing régime under which dukes were born for pleasure and labourers
-were not. But with all the foresight in the world it is difficult to see
-what he could have done, or how the course of history could have been
-affected, had he sent home grave warnings instead of babbling of the
-diamond necklace and M. Montgolfier.
-
-There was another distraction for him in Paris: Giannetta Baccelli, an
-Italian dancer. The duke seems to have lost his head completely over her
-for the time being, for he gave her his Garter to wear as a hair-ribbon,
-with “HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE” in diamonds, brought her home to
-England with him, sent her to a ball in Sevenoaks wearing the family
-jewels—which provoked a great scandal in the county—and gave her one of
-the towers at Knole, which to this day remains, through the
-mispronunciation of the English servants, “Shelley’s Tower.” It was for
-this lady, or so the rumour ran, that he finally rejected the faithful
-and unfortunate Lady Derby. There was nothing that Dorset would not do
-for Baccelli. He had her painted by Reynolds, and painted and drawn by
-Gainsborough, and sculpted from the nude. He even wrote to his friend
-the Duchess of Devonshire asking her to do what she could for his
-protégée, “I don’t ask you to do anything for her openly,” he wrote,
-“but I hope _que quand il s’agit de ses talents_ you will commend her. I
-assure you,” he adds rather pathetically, “she is _une bonne fille_,
-very clever, and _un excellent cœur_, and her dancing is really
-wonderful.”
-
-Gainsborough’s large full-length portrait of Baccelli, originally at
-Knole, has been sold; but his pencil sketch for it remains, rather faded
-and very delicate of line. It is drawn in the ball-room: Baccelli stands
-on a model’s throne, pointing her toe and lifting up her skirt;
-Gainsborough himself stands in front of her, a palette in his hand, so
-that he turns his back towards the person looking at the drawing; the
-Chinese page, in a round hat, stands by. It reconstructs with great
-vividness the scene of her posing in the ball-room. The only pity is
-that the artist should not have drawn in the duke, who was surely there,
-looking on, and criticizing and making suggestions. The receipt for the
-big picture is at Knole, though no mention is made of the drawing (_see
-illustration facing p. 208_):
-
- =Received= of his Grace the DUKE of DORSET one hundred guineas in full
- for two ¾ portraits of his Grace, one full-length of Mad^{sle}
- Baccelli, two Landskips, and one sketch of a beggar boy and girl.
-
- £105 _THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH_, _June 15, 1784_.
-
-One of the “two ¾ portraits of his Grace” mentioned in this receipt is
-the one now in the ball-room, one of the most beautiful Gainsboroughs I
-know—included with five other pictures for the ludicrous sum of £105.
-
-Reynolds’ portrait of the dancer shows a mischievous and attractive
-face, with slightly slanting eyes, peeping out from behind a mask which
-she holds up in her hand. The duke even went to the length of ordering
-the portraits of the servants he had provided for her, and among the
-collection of servants’ portraits in Black Boy Passage are Daniel Taylor
-and Elinor Law, servants of Mad^{me} Baccelli; Mrs. Edwards, attendant
-on Mad^{me} Baccelli; and Philip Louvaux, servant to Mad^{me} Baccelli.
-She evidently, with her servants and her tower, had a regular
-establishment at Knole, and many receipts bearing her signature witness
-the duke’s generosity towards her: “Received 7th April 1786 of Mr.
-Burlington [the agent] the sum of fifty pounds on account of his Grace
-the Duke of Dorset, Jannette Baccelli,” and so on. They had several
-children, all of whom died in babyhood, except one, alluded to in the
-following letter: “The duke has a very fine boy to whom Baccelli is
-mother, now at school near Knole. This, we think, is the only surviving
-progeny of the alliance,” but, much as I should like to know, I have no
-idea what became of this romantically-begotten scion, or even of whether
-he lived to grow up.
-
-Perhaps the “heterogenous housekeeper” of Horace Walpole’s letter was
-Baccelli’s importation, for in another place he writes disgustedly of
-“Knole, which disappointed me much. But unless you know how vast and
-venerable I thought I remembered it, I cannot give you the measure of my
-surprise; but then there was a trapes of a housekeeper, who, I suppose,
-was the Baccelli’s dresser, and who put me out of humour....”
-
-The connection seems to have lasted for a long time, for it is not until
-the end of 1789 that we come across an old newspaper cutting announcing
-with curious candour that “the Duke of Dorset and the Baccelli have just
-separated, and she is said to have behaved very well,” so that she
-eclipsed the records of Nancy Parsons, of Mrs. Elizabeth Armistead, and
-of poor Lady Derby. It is, I think, a not unpicturesque incident in the
-story of Knole—the dancer sitting in those stately rooms to Reynolds and
-Gainsborough, or descending from her tower to walk in the garden with
-the duke, attended by the Chinese boy carrying her gloves, her fan, or
-her parasol. Those were the days when the Clock Tower, oddly recalling a
-pagoda, was but newly erected; when the great rose-and-gold Chinese
-screen in the Poets’ Parlour was new and brilliant in the sun; when the
-Coromandel chests were new toys; and the Italian pictures and the
-statuary brought back by the duke from Rome were still pointed out as
-the latest acquisitions. And no doubt then the statue of the Baccelli
-reposing in her lovely nudity on her couch was not relegated to the
-attic, where a subsequent and more prudish generation sent it, but stood
-somewhere in the living-rooms, where it might be seen and admired in the
-presence of the smiling model. Amusement was caused too, no doubt, among
-the guests of the duke and the dancer by Sir Joshua’s portrait of the
-Chinese boy squatting on his heels, a fan in his hand, and the square
-toes of his red shoes protruding from beneath his robes. It was more
-original to have a Chinese page than to have a black one; everybody had
-a black one: “Dear Mama,” wrote the Duchess of Devonshire to her mother,
-“George Hanger has sent me a Black boy, eleven years old and very
-honest, but the duke don’t like me having a black, and yet I cannot bear
-the poor wretch being ill-used; if you liked him instead of Michel I
-will send him, he will be a cheap servant and you will make a Christian
-of him and a good boy; if you don’t like him they say Lady Rockingham
-wants one.” But the black page at Knole, of which there had always been
-one since the days of Lady Anne Clifford, and who had always been called
-John Morocco regardless of what his true name might be, had been
-replaced by a Chinaman ever since the house steward had killed the John
-Morocco of the moment in a fight in Black Boy’s Passage. This particular
-Chinese boy whom I have mentioned, whose real name was Hwang-a-Tung, but
-whom the English servants, much as they called Baccelli Madam Shelley,
-more conveniently renamed Warnoton—fell on fortunate days when he came
-to Knole, for not only was he painted by Sir Joshua, but he was educated
-at the duke’s expense at the Grammar School in Sevenoaks.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- HWANG-A-TUNG
-
- A CHINESE BOY, PAGE TO THE 3RD DUKE OF DORSET
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS
-]
-
-
- § iv
-
-The year after the parting in which the Baccelli was reported to have
-behaved so well, the duke married. His bride was an heiress, Arabella
-Diana Cope, who brought the duke, according to his own statement, a
-dowry of £140,000. She must have been an imposing figure, if one may
-trust Hoppner’s portrait, which shows her walking in a white muslin
-dress, a little dog frisking round her feet, and tall feathers on her
-head; and Wraxall, who certainly knew her, says, with the touch of awe
-and even dislike perceptible between the lines of all his accounts of
-her, that “her person, though not feminine, might then be denominated
-handsome; and, if her mind was not highly cultivated or refined, she
-could boast of intellectual endowments that fitted her for the active
-business of life.” Wraxall writes, possibly, with a prejudiced pen, for
-at one time he was employed in sorting and classifying the Knole
-manuscripts, and in this matter his views clashed with those of her
-Grace and her Grace’s second husband; the business was abandoned half
-way through, but Wraxall’s trace remains in the neat, ejaculatory notes
-which I find on the reverse side of many of the papers—“curious!” or
-“not without merit!” This may account for the subtle spitefulness of his
-remarks. Nevertheless, I imagine that Knole perceived under the duchess’
-régime a considerable contrast with the days of the merry and
-pleasure-loving Baccelli. The new duchess was a severe and orderly lady,
-“under the dominion of no passion except the love of money, her taste
-for power and pleasure always subordinate to her economy,” and the duke
-himself, perhaps under the influence of his wife, began to turn from his
-extravagant ways towards parsimony, curtailing his expenses in spite of
-the enormous increase in his income, and becoming, moreover, irascible,
-fretful, morbid, and quarrelsome. The days of his patronage of opera and
-Parisian ballet were over, the days when he was confident that the talk
-of his ball in Paris would reach the ears of the Duchess of Devonshire
-in London. His expenses at Knole were reported to be reduced to four or
-five thousand a year, yet he could not endure to hear the praise of
-other houses, for Knole he considered “as possessing everything.” It is
-not an attractive picture of the gay duke’s declining years. Hoppner,
-who had been staying at Knole for nine or ten days painting the three
-children, described the duke as most unpleasant in his temper, anxious
-and saving, humoursome and uncomfortable, “not suffering the dinner to
-be all placed on the table,” and when, playing at Casino, he lost
-fifteen shillings to Hoppner he “fretted when the cards he wished for
-were taken up.” The three children were brought up with the utmost
-severity; they were scarcely allowed to speak in the presence of their
-elders; and little Lord Middlesex was sent out of the room in disgrace
-at luncheon for asking his sister for the salt. Yet I fancy that the
-real control, under a show of submission, was exercised by that
-commanding figure, the duchess. She never betrayed any signs of
-exasperation, whether the duke sent away the dinner, or grumbled that
-Neckar was a man of no family, or that Mr. Hailes, the secretary, was a
-man of no family either—much to Mr. Hailes’ discomposure. This dwelling
-upon family was one of his many crotchets, and he was fond of pointing
-out that the Sackvilles had never branched, but remained the only family
-of that name in the Kingdom, and would draw attention to the coincidence
-that Sackville Street was the longest street in London without branch or
-turning. Prudent and long-suffering, no doubt the duchess had in her
-mind the advantages she intended to secure when she should be no longer
-a wife and sick-nurse, but a widow. Baccelli’s statue was in the attic,
-and Mr. Ozias Humphrey, of the Royal Academy, was quite out of favour
-because he went to Knole in the duke’s absence and took possession of a
-room without previously showing proper attention to the duchess. She
-presided calmly, while the duke fretted and economized, and quarrelled
-with his friends, and deteriorated in intellect, and became a prey to
-gloom, and grew old and sad before his time; she presided unruffled, for
-all the while she rested satisfied in her knowledge of his testamentary
-dispositions. He was, in fact, although only in the fifties, already a
-very ill man. He was falling rapidly into a deeper and deeper
-melancholy, and there is a tradition that towards the end he could only
-be soothed by the playing of two musicians in a neighbouring room—the
-room now called the Music Room, in which hang, rather ironically,
-Reynolds’ portrait of the Baccelli peeping out from behind her mask, and
-Vigée Lebrun’s portrait of the grave, greyhaired lady, Arabella Diana,
-Duchess of Dorset. He sat in the library, his hands fumbling at the
-breast-pin in his _jabot_, while the soothing strains reached him,
-veiled by distance. Veiled by distance, too, the memories of his past
-floated to him on the music, and melted with the music into the solace
-of a confused and wistful harmony. The past, so luminous, was not wholly
-lost, since in memory it was still recoverable. There had been the fun
-of the masked ball in Rome; there had been the clandestine hours of
-tenderness with Betty Hamilton; there had been Versailles; there had
-been the days when he could glance down through the window and see
-Baccelli flirting with Sir Joshua on the lawn. The musicians in the
-neighbouring room played on. He had been twenty-four when Knole had come
-to him; he had not had to wait for his good things until he was grown
-too sober to enjoy them. It had been so easy to accept the urbanity, the
-_empressement_, everyone was eager to lavish; so pleasant to move in a
-world so bland, so obliging, and so polite. No effort had been
-necessary; the fat quails had dropped ready roasted into his mouth. No
-effort: a smile there; a gracious word here; tossed alike with a casual,
-if good-humoured, contempt. Surveying himself in his mirror while his
-valet knelt to buckle the diamond Order round his knee, flicking with a
-lace pocket-handkerchief at a few grains of powder fallen upon his coat,
-he had been secure in the safe conduct of his great name and his
-personal charm. And if the faint ghosts whispered round him now in the
-quiet library at Knole—a fair head thrust at him upon a pike, the
-reproachful eyes of Lady Derby, the stilled limbs of those half-Italian
-babies that the Baccelli had borne him—why, he could banish them: Lord
-Middlesex slept in his nursery upstairs, and the tall duchess watched,
-effaced though vigilant, from a corner of the library. But when she rose
-and came towards him, thinking that he had fallen asleep in his nodding
-over the fire, he repulsed her fretfully, with the gesture of an old
-man, and wondered at himself in his confused and unhappy mind for this
-anomalous discourtesy towards a woman.
-
-Next door to the Music Room hangs the lovely full-length of the three
-children, painted by Hoppner while on that uncomfortable visit. One is
-bound to admit that their appearance bears no impress of the grand,
-solemn, and gloomy household in which they were being brought up. The
-little boy, rosy, flaxen-curled, in high nankeen trousers and a soft
-frilly shirt, has his arms round his baby sister, who, with bare toes,
-is looking sulkily at her elder sister’s shoes; they are out in the
-park; nothing could be more natural or unconstrained. My grandfather
-used to show me the baby girl, telling me that while Hoppner was seeking
-for a pose for his picture a grievance arose between the two little
-girls because one had shoes and the other had not, and that on Lord
-Middlesex taking his sister into his arms for consolation, Hoppner
-rushed at them exclaiming that he could not improve upon the charm of
-this accidental pose. I think this story has a convincing ring about it.
-Certainly it was the only anecdote which my grandfather had to tell of
-any picture in the house; usually he did not know a Hoppner from a
-Vandyck, a Kneller from a Gainsborough. He said that he had the story
-straight from his mother, Lady Elizabeth, the sulky baby of Hoppner’s
-picture, and the young woman in fancy dress of Beechey’s portrait in the
-same room.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE ARABELLA DIANA
- 3RD DUKE OF DORSET 3RD DUCHESS OF DORSET
-
- THE EARL OF MIDDLESEX
-
- LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE LADY MARY SACKVILLE
-
- _From a silhouette by_ A. T. TERSTAN, _1797. The property of_ LADY
- SACKVILLE
-]
-
-The only pleasant aspect of these later years of the gay duke’s life is
-his friendship and constant employment of the artists of his day. Before
-he fell into what Wraxall calls his “mental alienation” he counted
-Reynolds among his intimates, was a pall-bearer at his funeral in
-Westminster Abbey, and accumulated so many works of that artist at
-Knole, including one at the back of which is written, “Sir Joshua
-Reynolds, painted by himself and presented to his Grace the Duke of
-Dorset in 1780,” that what was once the Crimson Drawing-Room became
-known as the Reynolds Room; and the Reynolds Room it is to this day.
-Madame Vigée Lebrun stayed at Knole, which she found too gloomy for her
-taste, the duchess warning her, the first time they sat down to dinner,
-“You will find it very dull, for we never speak at table.” Ozias
-Humphrey, before he was so unfortunate as to offend the duchess,
-contributed a number of canvases to the duke’s collection:
-
- Two pastels, 12 guineas each.
-
- KNIGHTSBRIDGE, _June 25th, 1792_.
-
- £ _s._ _d._
- His Grace the Duke of Dorset to Ozias Humphrey, for a
- portrait in miniature 16 16 0
- A small crayon picture of the crossing-sweeper at Hyde
- Park Corner with a rich gold frame and glass 21 0 0
- A portrait of the Duchess of Dorset in crayons 12 12 0
- ——— —— —
- £50 8 0
-
- =Received= of his Grace the Duke of DORSET the sum of fifty pounds in
- full for the amount of the annexed bill.
-
- OZIAS HUMPHREY.
-
-It is perhaps significant of his new economy that the duke ignored the
-eight shillings.
-
-With Opie, too, he was on friendly terms, and amongst the other receipts
-at Knole is one from Opie for the portrait of Edmund Burke for £24 3_s._
-There is also a letter at Knole from Burke, who probably knew his
-Grace’s weakness for his house:
-
- DUKE ST., _Sept, 14, 1791_.
-
- MY LORD,
-
- I am just now honoured with your Grace’s letter, and am extremely
- concerned that it is not in my power to accept your Grace’s most
- obliging invitation. I have great respect for its present possessor;
- and as for the place, I, who am something of a lover of all
- antiquities, must be a very great admirer of Knole. I think it the
- most interesting thing in England. It is pleasant to have preserved in
- one place the succession of the several tastes of ages; a pleasant
- habitation for the time, a grand repository of whatever has been
- pleasant at all times. This is not the sort of place which every
- banker, contractor, or Nabob can create at his pleasure.... I would
- not change Knole if I were the Duke of Dorset for all the foppish
- structures of this age.
-
-Other receipts at Knole make it clear that the average price for a
-half-length was £37, while for a full-length by Reynolds the duke paid
-£300.
-
-There is also a mention in a contemporary diary that the duke asked
-Hoppner for his portrait, which he promised should be hung next to Sir
-Joshua’s portrait of himself. The diary notes that Ozias Humphrey’s
-_Selbstbildnis_ is “still in the room, but has been removed from its
-place next the Reynolds.” It is “still in the room” now, a man with a
-delicate face and a pointed nose, on the wall with Gainsborough’s _Lord
-George Sackville_, Sir Joshua’s _Samuel Foote_, his _Oliver Goldsmith_,
-his _Peg Woffington_, and his own portrait; but the Hoppner for which
-the duke asked is not there, and never was; no doubt Hoppner was not
-sufficiently encouraged by the uncomfortable visit to send so valuable
-an acknowledgment.
-
-At this period England lay under the fear of an invasion by the young
-victorious Bonaparte, and a scheme was set on foot for raising a corps
-of infantry to be called the Knole volunteers; I recently came across
-some of their accoutrements in an old locker at Knole; they had an
-amateurish look. A document bearing many blots and the signatures of all
-the volunteers—or, in some cases, their mark—is also at Knole:
-
- HIS GRACE _the_ DUKE _of_ DORSET’S offer of raising a Corps of
- Infantry, to consist of Sixty Men, to be called the _Knole
- Volunteers_, for the purpose of preserving Order and protecting
- property in the Parish and Neighbourhood of Sevenoaks having been
- accepted, and George Stone, Stephen Woodgate, and Thomas Mortimer
- Kelson being appointed officers by his Majesty to command the same,
- they propose the following Rules and Regulations, which they hope will
- be cheerfully submitted to by all who have voluntarily come forward to
- offer their services in the said Corps at this important Crisis:
-
- 1st. _That_ each individual attend twice a week for the purpose of
- exercising from half after Six o’clock to half after Eight
- o’clock in the Evening.
-
- 2nd. As a regular attendance is particularly essential, it is
- proposed that the small Sum of Sixpence be paid by every person
- not present to answer to his Name when called over at the time
- appointed, unless it appears he is prevented by Sickness, which
- forfeits, should there be any, shall be spent by the Corps at
- the end of the year in any manner they shall think proper.
-
- 3rd. That every Man appears clean and properly accoutered.
-
- 4thly. That they do their utmost Endeavour to learn their
- Exercise, paying proper respect to their Officers.
-
- _Finally_, they wish it to be clearly understood that their Services
- shall not be required to extend further than the Parish and
- Neighbourhood of Sevenoaks, unless it be for the purpose of guarding
- Prisoners or Convoys as far as one Stage.
-
- KNOLE, _22 May 1798_.
-
-But it is improbable that the duke had much to do with the raising or
-organisation of this corps, for during the last twenty months of his
-life his irascibility turned to definite melancholia, and he remained at
-Knole more or less alone with the duchess keeping a jealous guard over
-him. It is impossible not to draw the parallel between his end and that
-of Charles the Restoration earl, his great-grandfather, remembering
-especially the wildness and extravagance in which both had spent their
-youth; but whereas Charles was carried away to Bath at the end by that
-sordid woman Ann Roche, the duke was carefully tended in his own great
-house by the reserved and prudent woman he had married, too dignified to
-be accused save under the veil of polite phrases of intriguing to get
-the control of his affairs into her own hands. So he sank gradually, and
-in 1799, at the age of fifty-four, he died, when it was found that he
-had so disposed of his lands, his fortune, and his boroughs that
-Arabella Diana was left with so great an accumulation of wealth and of
-parliamentary influence as had “scarcely ever vested, among us, in a
-female, and a widow.”
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IX
- Knole in the Nineteenth Century
-
-
- § i
-
-The new Duke of Dorset was only five years old when his father’s
-dignities descended so prematurely on to his small yellow head, but he
-had a capable mentor in the person of his mother, and before two years
-had elapsed her authority was reinforced by that of a stepfather. This
-was Lord Whitworth, recently Ambassador to the Courts of Catherine II.
-and Paul I. The circumstances of Lord Whitworth’s recall had been in the
-least degree mysterious. Various rumours were current; amongst others,
-that he had offended the Czar in the following somewhat ludicrous
-manner: the Czar having forbidden that any empty carriage should pass
-before a certain part of his palace, Lord Whitworth, uninformed of the
-regulation, ordered his coach to meet him at a point which would entail
-passing over the forbidden area. The sentry held up the coach; the
-servants persisted in driving on; they came to blows; and the Czar, when
-the affair came to his ears, ordered Lord Whitworth’s servants to be
-beaten, the horses to be beaten, and the coach to be beaten too. Lord
-Whitworth, in a fit of rage and petulance, dismissed his servants,
-ordered the horses to be shot, and the coach to be broken into pieces
-and thrown into the Neva.
-
-He appears to have had at least one trait in common with the Sackvilles
-themselves, at any rate in early life, for it was said of him that he
-was “more distinguished during this period of his career by success in
-gallantries than by any professional merits or brilliant services.” Even
-at the time of his marriage, when, returning from Russia to England, he
-found available the wealthy and desirable relict of his friend the late
-Dorset, he was heavily entangled with a lady named Countess Gerbetzow,
-whose partiality for the English Ambassador had been such that she had
-placed her own fortune at his disposal for the purpose of clothing
-himself and defraying the expenses of his household. In return for this
-affection and assistance Lord Whitworth promised her marriage as soon as
-she could divorce her husband; but during the course of the divorce
-proceedings the Ambassador was recalled, and left for England on the
-understanding that Countess Gerbetzow would follow him there as soon as
-she conveniently could. Meanwhile he made the acquaintance of the more
-eligible duchess, became engaged to her, and lost no time in marrying
-her. Countess Gerbetzow had, however, by now obtained her divorce, and
-was travelling across Europe on her way to England: at Leipzic she
-learnt from a newspaper that Lord Whitworth in London was engaged to the
-Duchess of Dorset. Indignant and outraged, she flew post-haste to
-London. Too late: she arrived only to find that the marriage had already
-been celebrated. But she would not allow the matter to rest there, and
-“her reclamations, which were of too delicate and serious a nature to be
-despised, at length compelled the duchess, most reluctantly, to pay her
-Muscovite rival no less a sum than ten thousand pounds.” Whether the
-duchess continued to think Lord Whitworth worth the price is not
-recorded. If he was an expensive husband, he was certainly from the
-worldly standpoint a very successful one, and that was a standpoint the
-duchess was not likely to despise. He became successively Ambassador to
-the French Republic, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and an earl, but “we
-may nevertheless be allowed to doubt,” observes Wraxall, who claims Lord
-Whitworth’s personal friendship,
-
- whether a humbler matrimonial alliance might not have been attended
- with more felicity ... united to a woman of inferior fortune and
- condition ... he would certainly have presented an object of more
- rational envy and respect than as the second husband of a duchess,
- elevated by her connections to dignities and offices, subsisting on
- her possessions, and who will probably ere long inter him with an
- earl’s coronet on his coffin.—I return [_says Wraxall, having thus
- dismissed the pair_] to Marie Antoinette.
-
-I doubt whether the little duke was allowed a very exuberant enjoyment
-of his boyhood with this couple in authority over him. Children were
-strictly brought up in that generation, and it is clear that the duchess
-was by nature a severe and not very sympathetic woman. The little boy
-and his sisters must have been docile and well behaved in the great
-house and gardens which belonged to him in name only, but which in
-practice were entirely under his mother’s control, for her to alter the
-windows as she pleased, and to put Lord Whitworth’s cognizance in the
-stained glass beside the Sackville arms. I visualize—I scarcely know
-why—the duchess and Lord Whitworth almost as the jailers of the small
-inheritor. There is nothing to justify such a theory; and, indeed, very
-little record remains of that short life: there is his rocking-horse—an
-angular, long-necked, maneless animal, which in due course became my
-property, after passing through the two intervening generations—his
-brief friendship with Byron as a schoolboy, and his portrait as a tall,
-fair young man in dark blue academical robes. There is very little else
-to mark his passage across the stage of Knole. He came, late in time, of
-a race never remarkable for strength of character, and the obituary
-notice which described him as having possessed gentle and engaging
-manners, tinctured by shyness, and of amiable temper, probably came
-nearer to the truth than the generality of such eulogies. Byron has told
-us nothing in the least illuminating of his friend. He has left a long
-address in verse, included in _Hours of Idleness_, in which he is
-careful to explain that the duke was his fag at Harrow,
-
- _Whom still affection taught me to defend,
- And made me less a tyrant than a friend,
- Though the harsh custom of our youthful band
- Bade_ thee _obey, and gave me to command_,
-
-and equally careful to remind him that they might in later years meet in
-the House of Lords,
-
- _Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere,
- Since the same senate, nay, the same debate,
- May one day claim our suffrage for the state._
-
-The rest of the poem is an exhortation to the duke, whose “passive
-tutors, fearful to dispraise,” may
-
- _View ducal errors with indulgent eyes,
- And wink at faults they tremble to chastise_,
-
-to be worthy of the record his ancestors have left him; of he who
-“called, proud boast! the British drama forth,” and of that other one,
-Charles, “The pride of princes, and the boast of song”—to become, in
-fine, “Not Fortune’s minion, but her noblest son.” One suspects, in
-fact, that Byron himself viewed the errors of his ducal fag with an
-indulgent eye, and the depth of the friendship, on Byron’s part at
-least, is easily measured by the letters he wrote on hearing of the
-duke’s death—letters whose cynicism is perhaps atoned for by their
-frankness:
-
-[Illustration:
-
- GEORGE JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 4TH DUKE OF DORSET
-
- LADY MARY SACKVILLE LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE
-
- _From the portrait at Knole by_ HOPPNER
-]
-
- I have just been—or, rather, ought to be—very much shocked by the
- death of the Duke of Dorset [_he wrote to Tom Moore_]. We were at
- school together, and then I was passionately attached to him. Since,
- we have never met—but once, I think, in 1805—and it would be a paltry
- affectation to pretend that I had any feeling for him worth the name.
- But there was a time in my life when this event would have broken my
- heart; and all I can say for it now is that—it is not worth breaking.
-
- Adieu—it is all a farce.
-
-And he alludes to it once more, a fortnight later, again writing to
-Moore, to say that “the death of poor Dorset—and the recollection of
-what I once felt, and ought to have felt now, but could not,” has set
-him pondering.
-
-That, then, is all which the boy could leave behind him—that he should
-set Byron, for a moment, pondering. From such slight traces—the English
-little boy of the Hoppner, the old-fashioned rocking-horse, and the
-portrait of the fair young man—we have to reconstruct as best we can an
-entire personality. We have to figure him running about the garden at
-Knole; kissing his mother’s hand—surely never throwing his arms about
-her—his grave little bow to Lord Whitworth; the “your Grace” of his
-nurse’s behests; the brief contact with the dazzling personality of
-Byron at Harrow; the stir with which he cannot have failed to anticipate
-the advantages of his life and his emancipation. We have the account of
-him playing tennis, when a ball hit him in the eye, and obliged him to
-be for ever after “continually applying leeches and blisters and
-ointments and other disagreeable remedies,” and to be “very moderate in
-all exercises that heat or agitate the frame.” We have, finally, his
-tragic end at the age of twenty-one, to which additional poignancy is
-lent by the fact that he had recently become engaged.
-
-He had gone to Ireland, where his stepfather was then Viceroy, to stay
-with his friend and quondam school-fellow Lord Powerscourt. On the day
-after his arrival the two young men, with Lord Powerscourt’s brother,
-Mr. Wingfield, went out hunting, and after a fruitless morning they were
-about to return home when they put up a hare:
-
- The hare made for the inclosures on Kilkenny Hill. They had gone but a
- short distance, when the Duke, who was an excellent forward horseman,
- rode at a wall, which was in fact a more dangerous obstacle than it
- appeared to be.... The Duke’s mare attempted to cover all at one
- spring, and cleared the wall, but, alighting among the stones on the
- other side, threw herself headlong, and, turning in the air, came with
- great violence upon her rider, who had not lost his seat; he
- undermost, with his back on one of the large stones, and she crushing
- him with all her weight on his chest, and struggling with all her
- might to recover her legs. The mare at length disentangled herself and
- galloped away. The Duke sprang upon his feet, and attempted to follow
- her, but soon found himself unable to stand, and fell into the arms of
- Mr. Farrel, who had run to his succour, and to whose house he was
- conveyed. Lord Powerscourt, in the utmost anxiety and alarm, rode full
- speed for medical assistance, leaving his brother, Mr. Wingfield, to
- pay every possible attention to the Duke. But, unfortunately, the
- injury was too severe to be counteracted by human skill; life was
- extinct before any surgeon arrived. Such was the melancholy
- catastrophe that caused the untimely death of this young nobleman. He
- had been of age only three months, and had not taken his seat in the
- House of Lords [1815].
-
-The author of this obituary notice was at great pains to clear the young
-man of any charge of “unseasonable levity”:
-
- It has been said [_he observes_] that the Duke, in his dying moments,
- made use of the expression “I am off.” He did so; but not, as has been
- very erroneously supposed, by way of heroic bravado, or in a temper of
- unseasonable levity; but simply to signify to his attendants, who, in
- pulling off his boots, had drawn him too forward on the mattress, and
- jogged one of the chairs out of its place, that he was _slipping off_,
- and wanted their aid to help him up into his former position. He was
- the last person in the world to be guilty of anything like levity upon
- any solemn occasion, much less in his dying moments. The fact was,
- when he used the expression “I am off” he had become very faint and
- weak, and was glad to save himself the trouble of further
- utterance....
-
- Now suppose a stranger to the real character of this excellent youth
- to have heard no more of him than what he would be most likely to hear
- of one whose constitutional modesty concealed his virtues, namely,
- that he was very fond of cricket, that he hurt his eye with a
- tennis-ball, that he lost his life hunting, that his last words were
- “I am off”; would not a person possessed of this information, and no
- more, naturally conclude that the Duke was a young man of trivial
- mind, addicted to idle games and field sports, and apt to make light
- of serious things? How false a notion would such a person form of the
- late Duke of Dorset! As to the four circumstances above alluded to, if
- he was fond of cricket, it was in the evening generally that he
- played. When he hurt his eye [it was on the 7th of December] he had
- been at his books all the morning, and went between dinner and dusk to
- take one set at tennis. When he lost his life hunting, he had not
- hunted ten times the whole season. And what have been represented as
- his last words were not his last words; and, even if they were, they
- had no other meaning than “Pray prevent a helpless man from slipping
- down out of his place.” That he was not a mere sportsman, a mere
- idler, or a mere trifler, witness the wet eyes that streamed at every
- window in the streets of Dublin as his hearse was passing by; witness
- the train of carriages that composed his funeral procession; witness
- the throng of Nobility and Gentlemen that attended his remains to the
- sea-shore; witness the families he had visited in Ireland; witness the
- reception of his corpse in England; witness the amazing concourse of
- friends, tenantry, and neighbours, that came to hear the last rites
- performed, and to see him deposited in the tomb; witness the more
- endeared set of persons who still mean to hover round the vault where
- he is laid!
-
-
- § ii
-
-It now became apparent how exceedingly wise had been the precautionary
-measures taken by the duchess in regard to her husband’s will. A distant
-cousin, the son of Lord George, succeeded to the title as fifth and last
-duke—this part of the succession was beyond the reach of her control—but
-under the terms of the will Knole became her property for life, and she
-received in addition, on the death of her son, an increase in her income
-of nine thousand a year. She must certainly have been one of the richest
-women in England. Lord Whitworth, meanwhile (till 1817), continued as
-Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and as the originals of the following
-letters written to him by Sir Robert Peel, with enclosures in Peel’s
-handwriting, are at Knole, I think it not wholly irrelevant to print
-them here, with a few other notes, in view of their interest as being
-written immediately after the battle of Waterloo, and having, so far as
-I know, never before been published.
-
- IRISH OFFICE.
- _June 22nd, 1815._
-
- _Private_
- DEAR LORD WHITWORTH,
-
- You will receive by this express the official accounts of the most
- desperate and most important action in which the British arms have
- ever been engaged. The Gazette details all the leading particulars—I
- have just been at the War and Foreign Offices to collect any further
- information that may be interesting to you. It is evident that the
- attack was in a great degree a surprise upon the Allies, Bonaparte
- collected his troops and advanced with much greater rapidity than
- could have been expected. It was supposed that it would have required
- three days to bring the British force into line for a general
- engagement—but the suddenness of the attack gave them a much shorter
- time for preparation. It is said that on the 16th the Prussians lost
- fourteen thousand men.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- ROCKING HORSE
-
- ONCE THE PROPERTY OF THE 4TH DUKE OF DORSET
-]
-
-[Illustration:
-
- A RECEIPT FROM GAINSBOROUGH
-]
-
- All the private accounts attribute the success of the day to the Duke
- of Wellington’s personal courage and extraordinary exertions. Flint
- will send you some interesting particulars on this point.
-
- When the French Cavalry charged—the Duke placed himself in the centre
- of the square of infantry—a barrier that was impenetrable. Nothing
- could exceed the desperation with which the Cuirassiers fought. When
- they found they could make no impression on the solid mass of
- infantry—they halted in front and deliberately charged their pistols
- and shot at individuals of course without a chance of surviving. Lord
- Bathurst showed me a letter which he had received from Apsley. He says
- that Bonaparte had a scaffolding erected out of cannon shot from the
- top of which he saw the field of battle and the progress of the fight.
- When he found that success was almost hopeless he put himself at the
- head of the Imperial Guard—and charged in person. They were met by the
- first foot guards who overthrew them completely. The conduct of all
- the British infantry was beyond praise—Lord Wellington had about
- sixty-five thousand men in the field. Castlereagh told me that he
- thought Bonaparte must have lost the fourth of his army. This is of
- course mere conjecture.
-
- Of the Regiments of Cavalry which distinguished themselves the Life
- Guards, the 10th, and the 18th are particularly mentioned. The field
- of battle after the action presented a most extraordinary sight. The
- panic of the French army after their failure—and the fruitlessness of
- the desperate courage they had shewn—was very great when the attack on
- our part commenced. They threw away their arms—knapsacks, etc., etc.,
- in the greatest confusion. The Prussians gave no quarter in the
- pursuit.
-
- The Duke and Blucher met for a moment after the action—in the village
- of _La heureuse Alliance_ [sic].
-
- The Belgian Cavalry and some of the British did not much distinguish
- themselves. I hear that the 7th, Lord Uxbridge’s own regiment, have
- not added much to their reputation—but do not quote me for this piece
- of intelligence. General Picton was shot through the head. He behaved
- with the greatest possible gallantry.
-
- Schartzenburg [_sic_] is supposed to have crossed the Rhine with an
- immense force—perhaps 200,000 men on or about the 20th. I should
- rather say it was expected that he would cross about that time. There
- is no account from Paris—or from the French army.
-
- I have sent you a strange mixture of detached and unconnected
- particulars. I heard them one by one—in such a hurry—and am now
- obliged to write to you in such a hurry that I may not detain the
- express that I cannot reduce them into any shape.
-
- The consequence of our success must infallibly lead to a reduction of
- our regular force in Ireland—forthwith I apprehend. The Duke entreats
- in the strongest manner that reinforcements of infantry may be sent to
- him.
-
- Believe me ever dear Lord Whitworth, Yours most truly
-
- _The Lord Lieutenant_. ROBERT PEEL.
-
- PARIS
- Rue de la Paix—Hotel du Montblanc—
- _July 15th, 1815_.
-
- DEAR LORD WHITWORTH,
-
- As I owe my trip to Paris in great measure to the kindness and
- readiness with which you dispensed with my services in Ireland—it is
- but just that I should give you some account of my proceedings—Croker,
- Fitzgerald and myself left Town on Saturday Morning last [8th] arrived
- at Dover that night. I was a little disappointed to hear that the
- Tricolor Flag was flying at Calais—However we were determined, perhaps
- rather rashly—to make an attempt to land, and sailed the next morning
- in an armed schooner—putting the guns below and hoisting a flag of
- truce when we got into Calais roads. The Governor however was
- inexorable—and positively refused us permission to land. We heard that
- the white flag was flying at Dunkirk and at Boulogne and the wind
- favoured for the latter—we made for it. As we passed Vimereux and
- Ambleteuse we saw the white flag flying there and indeed at every
- intervening village between Calais and Boulogne. It was late in the
- evening when we arrived off Boulogne—we could discern that there was a
- flag hoisted, and on standing in close into the harbour we found it
- was the Tricolor.
-
- Fitzgerald and I were so sick and heartily tired of our voyage, that
- we resisted most strenuously Croker’s proposition to make for
- Dieppe—we wrote a very civil note to the Commandant—hoisted our flag
- of Truce and despatched a messenger. He was detained about three
- hours—he said that our arrival in the roads had caused great alarm in
- the garrison—that he had been placed under arrest on his landing—had
- been taken to the Commandant who was holding a sort of Council of
- war—that the flag of truce was mistaken for the white
- flag—particularly as the Schooner was armed—and unfortunately for us
- three or four English Brigs were in the offing.
-
- However he brought with him a civil answer from the Commandant
- informing us that “une mesure de sureté militaire l’occupoit à le
- moment,” but when he was at leisure he would send a boat for us.
-
- We were half afraid to trust ourselves to him, particularly as he told
- our envoy that he could not recognize a flag of truce in an armed
- vessel, but the apprehension of a sail to Dieppe with a contrary wind
- overcame the apprehension of a day or two’s confinement at Boulogne.
- The boat arrived—and we landed at Boulogne about 3 o’clock on Monday
- morning. The Commandant was civil to us but did not conceal from us
- that he was a furious Bonapartist. He said he had no soldiers—if he
- had 30 that white flag in the next village should not be hoisted—or
- there should be a massacre if it was. We proceeded on our journey
- about 7 o’clock on the morning of Monday—nothing could exceed the
- apparent devotion of all the inhabitants of the country through which
- we passed to the cause of Louis—the white flag was hanging from every
- window. Vive le Roi was in every mouth. We met with no interruption
- until we arrived at Montreuil—where there was a strong garrison—the
- Commandant like the officers—determined Bonapartists. We had nothing
- but Castlereagh’s passport except La Chatre’s which was worse than
- nothing, but the Commandant allowed us after some parley to proceed.
- The presence of the military was hardly sufficient to keep down the
- popular feeling in favour of the King—among the inhabitants it was
- universal here as every where else, there was not a single exception.
- At Abbeville we were again stopped. Here there was a very strong
- garrison—2000 men. Party spirit was running very high. The inhabitants
- were armed—the military seemed disposed to resist the order which they
- expected to receive on the day of our arrival, to lay down their arms
- and leave the town.
-
- Every precaution was taken as if the town was besieged. There were
- soldiers at every drawbridge. The Commandant however allowed us to
- proceed—and we arrived safely at Paris on the evening of Tuesday.
-
- _Sunday, 16th._
-
- Paris is surrounded by the troops of the allies and nothing can
- be more interesting than the present situation of it. The
- streets are crowded with officers and soldiers of all nations.
- Cossacks—Russians—Prussians, Austrians, Hungarians, etc. The
- English are great favourites. The Prussians held in the greatest
- detestation. If they had entered Paris alone—or if the Crowned
- Heads had delayed their entry—they, the Prussians would probably
- have pillaged Paris. They have taken some pictures from the
- Louvre—a very few, however, and none to which they had not some
- claim. They have demanded the payment of one hundred millions of
- francs from the city and at this moment—there are Prussian
- guards in the houses of Perigaux and some of the other principal
- bankers who are held as a sort of hostage—for the payment of the
- contribution.
-
- We drove to-day to the Depot d’Artillerie, and were told by the
- sentry—one of the national guards, that we were welcome to see the
- salon—but that the Prussians had removed everything which it
- contained—the sword of Joan of Arc—the knife of Ravaillac—Turenne’s
- sword. I am sorry for this—not on account of the mortification which
- it will inflict on French vanity—but because I fear the return of the
- King will be less popular—than it would have been if he could have
- preserved entire at least those national monuments and relics which
- are exclusively French.
-
- We paid a visit to Denon the other day. He had some Prussians
- quartered upon him, and was very loud in his exclamations against _ce_
- [sic] _bête féroce_ as he called Blucher. He expressed his sentiments
- very freely on political subjects—said the King was not destined to
- govern France in times like these—and predicted a short duration to
- his dynasty. He spoke in terms of great and apparently sincere
- affection towards Bonaparte—he was the last person who saw him before
- he quitted Paris. Denon observed that he had committed a great error
- after the battle of Waterloo in quitting the army—that he had by that
- step lost its confidence—that he ought either to have remained with
- it—or to have returned to it immediately. If he had summoned the two
- chambers, informed them without reserve of his disasters and concluded
- by stating that his travelling carriage was at the door and that he
- was going to resume the command of the army, that even still he need
- not have despaired of ultimate success.
-
- At the Tuileries after mass there was a great collection of
- Marshals—Peers of France—and other rogues of the higher order. We saw
- Marmont—Macdonald—Masséna—St. Cyr—Dupont, etc., and almost all the
- General officers of the French army who are in Paris—and did not take
- a decided part against the King. The garden of the Tuileries was
- absolutely full of people, and nothing can exceed or describe the
- enthusiasm of the women and children in favour of the King. If
- shouts—and applause and Vive le Roi—and white handkerchiefs could
- contribute to his strength—his throne would be established on solid
- foundations, but I do not see that men—fighting men—partake so much of
- the general joy—I confess I think the King has been ill advised in
- making Fouché his chief confidant and minister. It seems to me that it
- must preclude him from punishing treason in others—if he rewards so
- notorious a traitor as Fouché so highly. Fouché betrayed the King—then
- he betrayed Bonaparte—then he betrayed the Provisional Government of
- which he was the head and now he is minister. In fact he betrayed the
- Provisional Government deliberately—and on condition that he should be
- the King’s adviser. The virulence of French traitors—owing to the
- impunity of Treason—is beyond conception. Grouchy has written a letter
- to the Emperor of Russia requesting him to intercede in his favour
- with the King—and to procure for him permission to retain his rank as
- Marshal in the French army or, if that cannot be granted, that the
- Emperor will allow him to enter the Russian army retaining his present
- rank. The Emperor’s answer was not amiss. He had nothing to say to his
- first Proposition—and with respect to his second—it was an
- indispensable qualification in a Russian officer that he should be a
- man of honour.
-
- Pray remember me very kindly to the Duchess of Dorset and believe me
- ever
-
- Dear Lord Whitworth,
- Yours most truly
- ROBERT PEEL.
-
- _His Excellency_
- _The Lord Lieutenant._
-
- PARIS, _Monday, July 17th_.
-
- Arbuthnot saw Mr. Lane about an hour since I had this account from
- him—½ past 3.
-
- Mr. Lane of No. 5 Essex Court in the Temple states himself to have
- arrived to-day from France; and he gives the following account:
-
- That on the 20th he left Paris, and notwithstanding there were firing
- of guns and other marks of rejoicing, there was a general feeling in
- the town that all was not going well; that at Boulogne Mr. Lane saw
- the _Moniteur_ of the 22nd which gives a long account of what is
- called the battle of Marennart, stating that the British were 90,000
- men and the French not so many, that until four in the Evening the
- French had completely won the battle, but that about that hour the
- English Cavalry had attacked the Cuirassiers and routed them, that the
- young guards coming to their assistance got entangled in their
- confusion, and the old guard was likewise “_entrainée_.” At this
- moment some _Malveillant_ in the army cried “Sauve qui peut” and a
- general flight commenced; the whole left wing of the army _dispersed_:
- He lost all his cannon caissons etc. Buonaparte had ordered the wreck
- of his army to be collected near Phillipville, and he had issued
- directions calling on the Northern provinces to rise in mass. This,
- says the _Moniteur_, ended a battle so glorious yet so fatal to the
- French arms. Buonaparte has arrived in Paris on the morning of the
- 21st. The Council of Ministers and the two chambers had been placed in
- a state of permanency and it was declared high treason to vote an
- adjournment.
-
- Extract of a letter from the DUKE _of_ WELLINGTON
- to SIR CHARLES FLINT.
- dated BRUSSELS.
- _19 June 1815._
-
- What do you think of the total defeat of Bonaparte by the British
- Army?
-
- Never was there in the annals of the World so desperate or so hard
- fought an action, or such a defeat. It was really the battle of the
- Giants.
-
- My heart is broken by the terrible loss I have sustained of my old
- friends and companions and my poor Soldiers; and I shall not be
- satisfied with this Battle however glorious, if it does not of itself
- put an end to Bonaparte.
-
- [I have been asked for so many Copies of this (all of which I have
- refused) that I am glad to return it.]
-
- _19 June 1815._
-
- On the 16th to the very great astonishment of everyone the French
- attacked us or rather the Prussians, Lord Wellington came up with a
- very few Troops including the 7 Divisions and succeeded in stopping
- them, the next day was passed in partial Cavalry actions and yesterday
- was fought the severest battle that I believe ever has been known, the
- disproportion was immense so much so that altho’ we constantly
- repulsed them yet had not the Prussians come up at 7 (altho’ in fact
- they might have been up long before) we perhaps might ultimately have
- been annihilated. Trotter and I was on the field at the beginning and
- I count it as the best day of my life—I was there also to-day—the
- French have abandoned everything—In point of Artillery it is a second
- Vittoria.
-
- Our loss is so great that our Army will not I fear be in a state to
- act efficiently—but as we have done the material thing, the Allies may
- do the rest—the French Cavalry which was very fine suffered beyond
- expression—For a mile the road is actually strewed with Cuirasses—when
- I say this, I do not exaggerate. The Prussians are pursuing as fast as
- they can and with a large body of Troops. There will not be a stop by
- possibility till we get over the Frontier, after that time I dare not
- prophesy, but I do not think they will like to attack us again.
-
- The Action was fought in front of _Waterloo_ where two Roads
- separate—the one going to Nivelle, the other to Genappe—the position
- which was a very beautiful one was in front of the junction of the two
- roads. [_unsigned._]
-
- NIVELLE. _19 June 1815._
-
- The great action of yesterday was the severest contest either
- Frenchmen or Englishmen ever witnessed—it was the most obstinate
- struggle of two brave and rival Nations each firm in its cause—The
- gallantry of the French could only be exceeded by the resolution and
- intrepidity of John Bull. It raged from 11 till 9 and was once nearly
- lost. The Duke seconded by his Troops repaired every momentary
- disaster.
-
- Buonaparte placed himself at the head of his guards and led them on.
- The 1st Guards defeated them and put them to the rout and then the
- dismay became general—The Guards and generally the Infantry were the
- mainstay of the Action. Our Brigade had the defence of a Post which if
- lost, lost all. Our Light Company under Colonel Macdonnell were there,
- the Coldstreams then went down and we held it to the last, tho’ the
- Houses were in Flames. The loss has been immense—The French are
- totally defeated.
-
- There never was a more severe Battle than that of the 18th. I enclose
- a little Sketch of it. The dotted Line from Braine la Leud to above La
- Haye is the brow of the Hills occupied by the Duke of Wellington. The
- Troops had bivouaced just in the rear. The other dotted line near La
- Belle Alliance marks the brow of the Hills from where the French
- attack was made. There are two small Hedges in the Rear of this one.
- The Attack on Hougomont was very severe from a little before 12 to
- half past one. Bonaparte then moved a strong Force (continuing however
- his first Attack for several hours) to attack the left of the Centre
- where Picton and Ponsonby were killed. He drove our people from the
- Hedges a short distance but they soon returned and drove him
- considerably beyond those Hedges. In the Evening he collected a very
- great force near La Haye Sainte and attacked the Right of the Centre.
- This was done repeatedly by Infantry and Cavalry but though they
- frequently got through the Line they could never drive them from their
- position. The British Artillery was a little in front. The Duke
- several times left the Guns taking away the Horses and Ammunition, but
- his Fire was too heavy for the Enemy to bring up Horses to take them
- off and he as often regained them. At about 7 o’clock the French were
- heartily sick of it and retired rapidly. The Duke immediately changed
- his Defensive operations to that of Attack and at the same time Bulow
- brought up about 30,000 fresh Troops on the right flank of the Enemy
- near the Village of La Haye. Blucher was also near at hand.
-
- The Rout at this time was complete. The Pursuit was rapid and I really
- believe that the following morning the French Army had not 50 Guns out
- of 300 and no Baggage of any sort.
-
- The latter part of this Account I take from others and from seeing the
- Field of Battle two days afterwards. The first and second attacks I
- was present at.
-
- The Returns are arrived of Killed and Wounded. The British and
- Hanoverians lost on the 16th, 17th and 18th 845 Officers and 13,000
- Men. The French lost much more. The Method in which the Duke received
- the united Charges of Cavalry and attacks of Infantry is not common.
- He formed two Regiments in Squares and united them by a Regt. in Line
- four deep making a Sort of Curtain between two Bastions. [_unsigned._]
-
-
- § iii
-
-After Lord Whitworth’s term of office had come to an end he and the
-duchess returned to live at Knole, and to make such improvements there
-as were agreeable to the taste of the early nineteenth century. Such
-were the Gothic windows of the Orangery, which replaced the Tudor ones
-and were inscribed with the date 1823, and further changes were
-projected, such as a design which was to sweep away the symmetry of the
-lawns on the garden front and bring a curving path up to the house. This
-scheme, however, was never carried out. The bowling-green still rises,
-square and formal, backed by the two great tulip trees and the more
-distant woods of the park. The long perspective of the herbaceous
-borders was left undisturbed. The apple-trees in the little square
-orchards, that bear their blossom and their fruit from year to year with
-such countrified simplicity in the heart of all that magnificence, were
-not uprooted. Consequently the garden, save for one small section where
-the paths curve in meaningless scollops among the rhododendrons, remains
-to-day very much as Anne Clifford knew it. It has, of course, matured.
-The white rose which was planted under James I’s room has climbed until
-it now reaches beyond his windows on the first floor; the great lime has
-drooped its branches until they have layered themselves in the ground of
-their own accord and grown up again with fresh roots into three complete
-circles all sprung from the parent tree, a cloister of limes, which in
-summer murmurs like one enormous bee-hive; the magnolia outside the
-Poets’ Parlour has grown nearly to the roof, and bears its mass of
-flame-shaped blossoms like a giant candelabrum; the beech hedge is
-twenty feet high; four centuries have winnowed the faultless turf. In
-spring the wisteria drips its fountains over the top of the wall into
-the park. The soil is rich and deep and old. The garden has been a
-garden for four hundred years.
-
-And here, save for a few very brief notes to bring the history of the
-house down to the present day, these sketches must cease. The duchess
-Arabella Diana dying in 1825, her estate devolved upon her two
-daughters, Mary and Elizabeth. Elizabeth, my great-grandmother, who
-married John West, Lord de la Warr, and who died in 1870, left Buckhurst
-to her elder sons and Knole to her younger sons, one of whom was my
-grandfather. He was, as I remember him, a queer and silent old man. He
-knew nothing whatever about the works of art in the house; he spent
-hours gazing at the flowers, followed about the garden by two grave
-demoiselle cranes; he turned his back on all visitors, but sized them up
-after they had gone in one shrewd and sarcastic phrase; he bore a really
-remarkable resemblance to the portraits of the old Lord Treasurer, and
-he seemed to me, with his taciturnity and the never-mentioned background
-of his own not unromantic past, to stand conformably at the end of the
-long line of his ancestors. He and I, who so often shared the house
-alone between us, were companions in a shy and undemonstrative way.
-Although he had nothing to say to his unfortunate guests, he could
-understand a child. He told me that there were underground caves in the
-Wilderness, and I believed him to the extent of digging pits among the
-laurels in the hope of chancing upon the entrance; he made over a tall
-tree to me for my own, and I mounted a wooden cannon among its branches
-to keep away intruders. When I was away, which was seldom, he would
-write me harlequin letters in different coloured chalks. When I was at
-home he would put after dinner a plate of fruit for my breakfast into a
-drawer of his writing-table labelled with my name, and this he never
-once failed to do, even though there might have been thirty people to
-dinner in the Great Hall, who watched, no doubt with great surprise, the
-old man who had been so rude to his neighbours at dinner going
-unconcernedly round with a plate, picking out the reddest cherries, the
-bluest grapes, and the ripest peach.
-
-When we were at Knole alone together I used to go down to his
-sitting-room in the evening to play draughts with him—and never knew
-whether I played to please him, or he played to please me—and sometimes,
-very rarely, he told me stories of when he was a small boy, and played
-with the rocking-horse, and of the journeys by coach with his father and
-mother from Buckhurst to Knole or from Knole to London; of their taking
-the silver with them under the seat; of their having outriders with
-pistols; and of his father and mother never addressing each other, in
-their children’s presence, as anything but “my Lord” and “my Lady.” I
-clasped my knees and stared at him when he told me these stories of an
-age which already seemed so remote, and his pale blue eyes gazed away
-into the past, and suddenly his shyness would return to him and the
-clock in the corner would begin to wheeze in preparation to striking the
-hour, and he would say that it was time for me to go to bed. But
-although our understanding of one another was, I am sure, so excellent,
-our rare conversations remained always on similar fantastic subjects,
-nor ever approached the intimate or the personal.
-
-Then he fell ill and died when he was over eighty, and became a name
-like the others, and his portrait took its place among the rest, with a
-label recording the dates of his birth and death.
-
-
-
-
- APPENDIX
- A Note on Thieves’ Cant
-
-
-The vocabulary given on page 135 contributes no word which may not be
-found in any cant dictionary, and therefore may appear undeserving of
-inclusion. But I put it in because I think few people, apart from
-students of philology, realize the existence of that large section of
-our language in use among the vagabond classes. Cant and slang, to most
-people’s minds, are synonymous, but this is an error of belief: slang
-creeps from many sources into the river of language, and so mingles with
-it that in course of time many use it without knowing that they do so;
-cant, on the other hand, remains definite and obscure of origin. Slang
-is loose, expressive, and metaphorical; cant is tight and correct: it
-has even a literature of its own, broad and racy, incomprehensible to
-the ordinary reader without the help of a glossary. Its words, for the
-most part, bear no resemblance to English words; unlike slang, they are
-not words adapted, for the sake of vividness, to a use for which they
-were not originally intended, but are applied strictly to their peculiar
-meaning.
-
-Although the origin of cant as a separate jargon or language is
-obscure—it does not appear in England till the second half of the
-sixteenth century—the origin of certain of its words may be traced. Of
-those included in the vocabulary on page 135, for example, _ken_, for
-house, comes from _khan_ (gipsy and Oriental); _fogus_, for tobacco,
-comes from _fogo_, an old word for stench; _maund_, or _maunder_, to
-beg, does not derive, as might be thought, from _maung_, to beg, a gipsy
-word taken from the Hindu, but from the Anglo-Saxon _mand_, a basket;
-_bouse_, to drink (which, of course, has given us booze, with the same
-meaning, and which in the fourteenth century was perfectly good
-English), comes from the Dutch _buyzen_, to tipple. _Abram_, naked, is
-found as _abrannoi_, with the same meaning, in Hungarian gipsy;
-_cassan_, cheese, is _cas_ in English gipsy; _dimber_ survives for
-“pretty” in Worcestershire. _Cheat_ appears frequently in cant as a
-common affix.
-
-As for _autem mort_, I find it in an early authority thus defined:
-“These _autem morts_ be married women, as there be but a few. For
-_autem_ in their language is a church, so she is a wife married at the
-church, and they be as chaste as a cow I have, that goeth to bull every
-moon, with what bull she careth not.”
-
-
-
-
- INDEX
-
-
- ANNE, Queen, as Princess Anne, 138
- her death, 160
-
- ARMISTEAD, Mrs. Elizabeth, mistress of 3rd Duke of Dorset, 179
-
-
- BEAUMONT, Francis, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, 55
-
- BACELLI, Giannetta, mistress of 3rd Duke of Dorset, 188–192
-
- BERKELEY, Lady Betty. _See_ GERMAINE, Lady Betty
-
- Berkeley Castle, 169
-
- BLACKMORE, his poem _Prince Arthur_ quoted, 148
-
- BOURCHIER, Archbishop of Canterbury, buys Knole from Lord Say & Sele, 5
- Builds on to Knole, 6, 7
- Encloses the park, 21
- Allows glass-making in the park, 24
-
- BOWRA, a cricketer, 182
-
- BRUCE, Lord, his duel with Edward Sackville, 84–90
-
- BUCKHURST, Lord. _See_ SACKVILLE, Thomas
- house at Withyham, 18; and mentioned _passim_
-
- BUCKINGHAM, Duke of, his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, 144
-
- BUTLER, Samuel, his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, 144
- his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- BURKE, Edmund, letter from, 197–198
- his portrait at Knole, 197
-
- BYRON, Lord, quoted, 28, 204
- friendship with 4th Duke of Dorset, 203–204
- his letters to Thomas Moore, 204–205
-
-
- CARTWRIGHT, William, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- CHAMPCENETZ, Comte de, a French fugitive, 188
-
- CHARLES I, verses on the death of, 106–107
-
- CHARLES II, anecdote of his childhood, 98
- at Edgehill, 107
- Chapter VI _passim_
-
- CLIFFORD, Lady Anne, 3rd Countess of Dorset, description of herself,
- 49–50
- marries Richard Sackville, 52
- her children, 53
- her diary quoted, 59–72
- her later years, 73–78
-
- COLIGNY, Odet de, Cardinal of Chatillon, entertained by Thomas
- Sackville at Shene, 36 _seq._
-
- COLYEAR, Elizabeth, marries 1st Duke of Dorset, 153
-
- CONGREVE, William, his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, 141
- his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- COPE, Arabella Diana, marries 3rd Duke of Dorset, 192
- her character, 192–194
- marries Lord Whitworth, 202
- living at Knole, 217–218
- death of, 219
-
- COPE, Eliza, letter from, 97
-
- Copt Hall, 111, 128
-
- COURTHOPE, History of English Literature quoted, 45
-
- COWLEY, Abraham, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- CRANFIELD, Lady Frances, marries 5th Earl of Dorset, 111
-
- CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury, gives Knole to Henry VIII, 8
-
- Cricket, 155, 181–183
-
- CUMBERLAND, Francis, Earl of, 55
- George, Earl of, Queen Elizabeth’s champion, 48
- his adventures, 49
- his death, 51
- his will, 55
- Margaret, Countess of, 52–59 _passim_
- her death, 62
-
- CURZON, Mary, 4th Countess of Dorset, 84
- governess to the children of Charles I, 97–98
-
-
- DESMOND, Catherine Fitzgerald, Countess of, 14
-
- DEVONSHIRE, Duchess of, her opinion of 3rd Duke of Dorset, 176
- his letters to her, 183, 184, 188
- her letter about a black page, 191
-
- DERBY, Countess of. _See_ HAMILTON, Lady Betty
-
- Diamond necklace, affair of the, 3rd Duke of Dorset’s dispatches on,
- 184–185
- half the diamonds bought by him, 185
-
- DIGBY, Sir Kenelm, marries Venetia Stanley, 58
- friendship with 4th Earl of Dorset, 104–106
- his portrait at Knole, 105, 151
- Venetia Stanley, Lady, mistress of 3rd Earl of Dorset, 58
-
- DORSET, Earls and Dukes of. _See_ SACKVILLE
- 1st Duchess of. _See_ COLYEAR, Elizabeth
- 2nd Duchess of, 173
- 3rd Duchess of. _See_ COPE, Arabella Diana
- House, London, 31
- 3rd Countess of. _See_ CLIFFORD, Lady Anne
- 4th Countess of. _See_ CURZON, Mary
- 5th Countess of. _See_ CRANFIELD, Lady Frances
- 6th Countess of, 128, 150
-
- Drayton House, 169
- bequeathed to Lord George Sackville by Lady Betty Germaine, 172
-
- DRAYTON, Michael, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, 59
-
- DRYDEN, John, his debt to 6th Earl of Dorset, 145, 147, 148
- letter from, 149
- at Knole, 149
- his enmity with Shadwell, 150
- his portrait at Knole, 151
- satirized by Blackmore, 148
- his works dedicated to Dorset, 148
-
- DURFEY, Tom, a pensioner at Knole, 150, 154
- verses quoted, 150
- his portraits, 150, 151
-
-
- EVELYN’S Diary, quoted, 123
-
- ELIZABETH, Queen, gives Knole to Thomas Sackville, 34–38
- her death, 50
-
-
- FARREN, Elizabeth, marries the Earl of Derby, 180
-
- FLATTMANN, Thomas, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- FLETCHER, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, 59
-
- FOOTE, Samuel, his portrait at Knole, 198
-
-
- GAINSBOROUGH, Thomas, draws Mme. Baccelli, 189
- his receipt for painting, 189, ccviii.
-
- GEORGE I, accession of, 160–161
-
- GEORGE II, accession of, 161–162
-
- GERMAINE, Lady Betty, her rooms at Knole, 12–13
- as a guest at Knole, 167–172
- Sir John, 169–171
-
- GERBETZOW, Countess, her affair with Lord Whitworth, 202
-
- GOLDSMITH, Oliver, his portrait at Knole, 198
-
- GORBODUC, 33, 41–42, 43
-
- GOSSE, Edmund, quoted, 32
-
- GWYNN, Nell, 122–127
-
-
- HAMILTON, Lady Betty (Countess of Derby), in love with 3rd Duke of
- Dorset, 179
- married off to Lord Derby, 179–180, 188
-
- HENRY VIII obtains Knole from Cranmer, 8
- makes a garden there, 21
-
- HEYWOOD, Jasper, quoted, 32
-
- HOBBS, Thomas, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- HOPPNER, John, his portrait of the 3rd Duchess of Dorset, 192
- stays at Knole to paint the three children, 193
- his portrait of the children, 196
- asked for his own portrait by the 3rd Duke of Dorset, 198
-
- HUMPHREY, Ozias, quarrels with 3rd Duke of Dorset, 194
- receipts for pictures, 197
-
-
- JAMES I, interviews with Lady Anne Clifford, 65–66
-
- JAMES II at Edgehill, 107
-
- JONSON, Ben, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, 59
- poem on his death by 5th Earl of Dorset, 112
-
- JOHNSON, Dr., quoted, 116, 119
-
-
- KNELLER, Sir Godfrey, portraits by him at Knole, 29, 153
-
- KNOLE described, 1–19
- early history of the house, 5
- becomes the palace of the Archbishop of Canterbury, 5
- repairs and expenses, 6–8
- acquired by Henry VIII, 8
- acquired by Thomas Sackville, 34, 38
- lead-work at, 39
- list of servants at, 78–81
- raided by Cromwell’s soldiers, 82–83, 101–104
- expenses at, in time of Charles I, 91
- banquet and menus, 93–94
- household stuff at, 95–96
- arms at, 99–100
- acquisitions from Copt Hall, 101
- the Cellars at, 133, 178
- Horace Walpole’s opinion on, 181, 190
- the Green Court, 3
- the Stone Court, 3, iii
- the Water Court, 4
- Great Hall, built, 6;
- altered, 39
- Great Staircase, built, 6, 39
- the Ball-room, 6;
- frieze in, 11
- Bourchier’s Tower, 7
- Bourchier’s Oriel, 8
- Queen’s Court and Slaughter-house, 7
- the Brown Gallery, built, 7;
- described, 13
- the Cartoon Gallery, described, 10–11
- Lady Betty Germaine’s Rooms, described, 12, 13
- the Leicester Gallery, described, 13–14
- the King’s Bedroom, described, 15
- the Venetian Ambassador’s Bedroom, described, 15–16
- the Chapel, described, 16–17
- the Garden, described, 20, 218
- Garden Accounts, 21–24
- the Park, 24–26;
- additions to, 92
-
-
- LEBRUN, Mme. Vigée, stays at Knole, 197
-
- LEICESTER, Robert Dudley, Earl of, his brief ownership of Knole, 13
-
- LENNOX, Lady Sarah, her letters quoted, 180
-
- LOCKE, John, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
-
- MACAULAY, quoted, 138, 143–145, 147–148
-
- MANN, Sir Horace, a cricketer, 182
-
- MARIE ANTOINETTE, her friendship with the 3rd Duke of Dorset, 184, 187
-
- MILLER, a cricketer, 182
-
- MINSKULL, a cricketer, 182
-
- Mirror for Magistrates, 33, 43;
- quoted, 44
- Professor Saintsbury on, 45–47
-
- MONTGOLFIER, his aeronautical projects, 185–187
-
- MORETON, Archbishop of Canterbury, makes alterations at Knole, 8
-
- MOTTE, Mme. de la, 185
-
- MUSCOVITA, Mme., 173
-
-
- NORFOLK, Duchess of, marries Sir John Germaine, 170
-
-
- OPIE, John, his portrait at Knole, 197
-
- “ORANGE MOLL,” 123, 125
-
- OTWAY, Thomas, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
-
- PARSONS, Nancy, taken abroad by 3rd Duke of Dorset, 178
- abandoned by him, 179
-
- PEEL, Sir Robert, letters to Lord Whitworth, 208–214
-
- PEPYS, Samuel, quoted, 116, 117, 124, 125
-
- POPE, Alexander, his epitaph on 6th Earl of Dorset, 151
- his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- Pot-pourri, 12;
- Lady Betty Germaine’s receipt for, 172
-
- POWERSCOURT, Lord, friend of 4th Duke of Dorset, 206
-
- PRIOR, Matthew, visits 6th Earl of Dorset, 140
- educated at Lord Dorset’s expense, 147
- verses quoted, 147
- mentioned by Macaulay, 145
-
-
- RADCLIFFE, Mrs. Ann, visits Knole, 24
-
- _Religio Medici_, Sir Kenelm Digby on, 105–106
-
- REYNOLDS, Sir Joshua, his portrait of Mlle. Bacelli, 189
- his portrait of the Chinese page, 191
- his portrait of himself, 196–197
- his portrait of the Duke of Dorset, 198
-
- ROCHE, Mrs. Ann, marries 6th Earl of Dorset, 140, 141
-
- ROCHESTER, John Wilmot, Earl of, 117
- his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, 145
- his portrait of Knole, 150
-
- ROWE, Nicholas, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- Rye House Plot, letter referring to the, 134–135
-
- ROHAN, Cardinal de, 184
-
-
- SACKVILLES, the, described, 28–29
- their origin, 29–30
-
- SACKVILLE, Herbrand de, comes into England with William the Conqueror,
- 30
- Sir Richard, suggests _The Scholemaster_ to Ascham, 30
- his London property, 31
- Thomas, 1st Earl of Dorset, makes alterations at Knole, 6, 39
- his early life, 32
- his political career, 34–41
- his literary works, 41–47
- his armour described, 99
- Richard, 3rd Earl of Dorset, marries Lady Anne Clifford, 52
- description of, 57
- his character, 57–59
- mentioned in Lady Anne Clifford’s diary, 54–72 _passim_
- his death, 72
- Edward, 4th Earl of Dorset, 29, 82
- his duel with Lord Bruce, 84–90
- his income and expenses, 91–92, 93
- his possessions in America, 92–93
- during the Civil War, 106–110
- Hon. Edward, murdered by the Roundheads, 106
- poem on his death, _ibid._
- Richard, 5th Earl of Dorset, 111
- his marriage settlement with Lady Frances Cranfield, 111–112
- his memorandum books, 112–114
- Hon. Thomas, epitaph on, 114
- Charles, 6th Earl of Dorset; his silver at Knole, 15–29
- described, 115
- his youth, 116–127
- goes abroad, 127
- marries; his love-letter, 128
- his finances, 129–133
- his later years, 137–143
- his melancholia and death, 141
- his character, 143–145
- his literary merit, 145;
- and songs quoted, 119, 137, 146
- his patronage of poets, 147–151
- compared to 3rd Duke of Dorset, 200
- Lionel, 1st Duke of Dorset; his character and relations with his
- sons, 152–157
- as a child, 157–158
- his early years, 158
- announces their accession to George I and George II, 160–163
- becomes Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 163–167
- Lord George, quoted, 140, 157, 161
- his relations with his father, 155
- his political career, 156–157
- inherits Drayton from Lady Betty Germaine, 172
- his portrait at Knole, 198
- Lord John, a cricketer, 155, 181
- his melancholia and death, 177
- Charles, 2nd Duke of Dorset, a wastrel, 155
- reputed mad, 173
- his poems quoted, 173–174
- John Frederick, 3rd Duke of Dorset, described, 29, 176–177
- his youth and love-affairs, 177–180
- as a patron of cricket, 181–183
- as Ambassador in Paris, 183–188
- at Knole with the Baccelli, 189–192
- his marriage and later years, 192–199
- his melancholia and death, 199–200
- George John Frederick, 4th Duke of Dorset, 29
- his childhood, 193, 203
- his friendship with Byron, 204–205
- killed out hunting, 206–208
- Lord Lionel; his unsociability, 11
- at Knole, 83
- his anecdote of Hoppner’s picture, 196
- at Knole, 219–220
- Lady Margaret (afterwards Countess of Thanet), mentioned in Lady Anne
- Clifford’s Diary, 21, 53, 54, 61, 64, 67, 70
- her portrait at Knole, 68
- Lady Elizabeth (Countess de la Warr), in Hoppner’s portrait, 196
- succeeds to Knole, 219
- at Knowsley, 180
-
- SAINTSBURY, Professor, quoted, 41, 45–47
-
- SEDLEY, Sir Charles, 117
-
- SHADWELL, Thomas, patronized by 6th Earl of Dorset, 145–150
-
- SMITH, Captain Robert, builds sham ruins in Knole Park, 26
-
- SPENSER, Edmund, sonnet to Thomas Sackville, 43
-
- STANLEY, Venetia. _See_ DIGBY, Lady
-
- STUART, Mary, Queen of Scots, her altar at Knole, 16, 35
-
- SWIFT, Jonathan, quoted, 141
- letter from, 153, 168
-
-
- Theatres in the reign of Charles II, 118, 122–124
-
- Thieves’ cant in the reign of Charles II, 135, _and Appendix_ 221
-
- Tobacco, 40
-
-
- WALLER, Edmund, his portrait at Knole, 151
-
- WALPOLE, Horace, quoted, 119;
- on Knole, 17, 150, 181, 190
-
- Waterloo, Sir Robert Peel’s letters relating to battle of, 208–214;
- other accounts of, 214–217
-
- WELLINGTON, Duke of, letter from, about Waterloo, 215
-
- WHITWORTH, Lord, marries Arabella Diana, Duchess of Dorset, 202
- recalled from St. Petersburg, 201
- his entanglement with Countess Gerbetzow, 202
- Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 203
- letters to him from Peel, 208–214
-
- WILLIAM III, 158
-
- WITHYHAM, Sackville vault at, 18
- Lady Anne Clifford’s visit to, 71
- epitaphs at, 114
-
- WOFFINGTON, Margaret, her relations with 1st Duke of Dorset, 165–167
- her portrait at Knole, 198
-
- WRAXALL, Sir Nathaniel, quoted, 184, 192, 203
-
- WYCHERLEY, William, his opinion of 6th Earl of Dorset, 144
- his portrait at Knole, 151
-
------
-
-Footnote 1:
-
- State papers of Henry VIII.
-
-Footnote 2:
-
- Slea = unravelled.
-
-Footnote 3:
-
- The original of this curious paper is now at Appleby, dated April 1st,
- 1616, and runs as follows: “A memoranda that I, Anne, Countess of
- Dorset, sole daughter and heir to George, late Earl of Cumberland, do
- take witness of all these gentlemen present, that I both desire and
- offer myself to go up to London with my men and horses, but they,
- having received a contrary commandment from my Lord, my husband, will
- by no means consent nor permit me to go with them. Now my desire is
- that all the world may know that this stay of mine proceeds only from
- my husband’s command, contrary to my consent or agreement, whereof I
- have gotten these names underwritten to testify the same.”
-
-Footnote 4:
-
- Night-gown, of course, has not the modern meaning, as at that date
- people slept naked.
-
-Footnote 5:
-
- _Glecko_, or _Gleck_: a three-handed game played with 44 cards (eight
- left in stock). The gleck consisted in three of a kind.
-
-Footnote 6:
-
- Joistment: the feeding of cattle in a common pasture for a stipulated
- fee.
-
-Footnote 7:
-
- Runts: young ox or cow.
-
-Footnote 8:
-
- The following account is abridged from the _Mercurius Publicus_ of the
- day: “Charles Lord Buckhurst; Edward Sackville, his brother; Sir Henry
- Belasyse, eldest son of Lord Belasyse; John Belasyse, brother of Lord
- Faulconberg; and Thomas Wentworth, only son of Sir G. Wentworth,
- whilst in pursuit of thieves near Waltham Cross, mortally wounded an
- innocent tanner named Hoppy, and ... were soon after apprehended on
- charges of robbery and murder, but the Grand Jury found a bill for
- manslaughter only.”
-
-Footnote 9:
-
- This refers to the frequent flooding of Whitehall Palace by an
- unusually high tide.
-
-Footnote 10:
-
- _See_ Appendix.
-
-Footnote 11:
-
- The butler, not the biographer.
-
-Footnote 12:
-
- The powdered dried root of Sweet Sedge (_Acorus Calamus_).
-
-
- Printed in England at the CLOISTER PRESS, Heaton Mersey, near Manchester
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
-
-
- 1. P. vii, changed “1556 KNOLE resold by Warwick to EDWARD VI” to “1552
- KNOLE resold by Warwick to EDWARD VI”.
- 2. P. ix, changed “1552 Succeeded his father, EDWARD” to “1662
- Succeeded his father, EDWARD”.
- 3. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
- 4. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
- 5. Footnotes were re-indexed using numbers and collected together at
- the end of the last chapter.
- 6. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
- 7. Superscripts are denoted by a caret before a single superscript
- character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in
- curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}.
-
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-
-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Knole and the Sackvilles, by V. Sackville-West</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Knole and the Sackvilles</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: V. Sackville-West</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 19, 2021 [eBook #65107]</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div>
-
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KNOLE AND THE SACKVILLES ***</div>
-
-<div class='tnotes covernote'>
-
-<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter ph1'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div>KNOLE <em>and the</em> SACKVILLES</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div id='Frontispiece' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_frontis.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p><em>John Frederick Sackville, 3<sup>rd</sup>. Duke of Dorset <span class='fss'>K.G.</span></em><br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by Gainsborough.</em></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='titlepage'>
-
-<div>
- <h1 class='c002'>KNOLE<br /> <span class='large'><em>and</em></span><br /> <span class='xlarge'>THE SACKVILLES</span></h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c003'>
- <div>by</div>
- <div class='c004'><span class='large'>V. SACKVILLE-WEST</span></div>
- <div class='c003'>LONDON</div>
- <div>WILLIAM HEINEMANN</div>
- <div>1922</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE</h2>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table0' summary='CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE'>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1456</td>
- <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>bought by</em> Archbishop <span class='fss'>BOURCHIER</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1486</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Bourchier. Succeeded by</em> Cardinal <span class='fss'>MORTON</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1500</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Morton. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>HENRY DEAN</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1502</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Dean. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>WAREHAM</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1532</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Wareham. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>CRANMER</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1539</td>
- <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>given by Cranmer to</em> <span class='fss'>HENRY VIII</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1546</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Henry VIII. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>EDWARD VI</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1550</td>
- <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>granted by Edward VI to</em> <span class='fss'>JOHN DUDLEY</span>, Earl of Warwick</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1552<a id='tvii'></a></td>
- <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>resold by Warwick to</em> <span class='fss'>EDWARD VI</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1553</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Edward VI. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>QUEEN MARY</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>granted by the Queen to</em> <span class='fss'>REGINALD POLE</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1558</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Mary. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>QUEEN ELIZABETH</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1586</td>
- <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>granted to</em> <span class='fss'>THOMAS SACKVILLE</span> <em>by Elizabeth</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>Thos. Sackville, <em>Lord Buckhurst</em>, 1st <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> 1536–1608</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1554</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>CECILIE BAKER</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1557<br />1563</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Member of Parliament</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1563</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Travelling abroad</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1566</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of his father</em>, Sir <span class='fss'>RICHARD</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1567</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Created</em> Lord <span class='fss'>BUCKHURST</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1568</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to France</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1569</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1571</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to France</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1586</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Execution of</em> <span class='fss'>MARY</span> <em>Queen of</em> <span class='fss'>SCOTS</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1586</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Given</em> <span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>by</em> <span class='fss'>QUEEN ELIZABETH</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1587</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to the Low Countries</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1589</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to the Low Countries</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1589</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Knight of the Garter</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1591</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Chancellor of Oxford</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1598</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to the Low Countries</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1599</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord High Treasurer</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1601</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord High Steward</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1603</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Queen Elizabeth. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>JAMES I</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1603</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Treasurer for life</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1604</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Created</em> Earl <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1608</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death at the Council Table</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>Robert Sackville, 2nd <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1561–1609</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1579</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>MARGARET HOWARD</span>, <em>dau. of</em> Duke <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>NORFOLK</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1585<br />1608</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Member of Parliament</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1592</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>ANNE SPENCER</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1608</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>THOMAS</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1609</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>Richard Sackville, 3rd <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1589–1624</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1609</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> Lady <span class='fss'>ANNE CLIFFORD</span>, <em>daughter of</em> <span class='fss'>GEORGE</span>, Earl of <span class='fss'>CUMBERLAND</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1609</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>ROBERT</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1624</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>Edward Sackville, 4th <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1591–1652</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1605</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>At Christ Church, Oxford</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1612</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>MARY</span>, <em>daughter of</em> Sir <span class='fss'>GEORGE CURZON</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1614</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>His duel with</em> Lord <span class='fss'>BRUCE</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1614</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Member of Parliament</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1616</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Knight of the Bath</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1621</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to</em> <span class='fss'>LOUIS XIII</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1623<br />1624</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Travels in Italy</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1623</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Again Ambassador to</em> <span class='fss'>LOUIS XIII</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1624</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his brother</em>, <span class='fss'>RICHARD</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1624</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex and Middlesex</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1625</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Knight of the Garter</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1625</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of James I. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>CHARLES I</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1628</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Chamberlain</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1630</td>
- <td class='c007'>Lady <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> <em>appointed Governess to the King’s children</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1631<br />1634</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Commissioner for Planting Virginia</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1638</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Granted the East Coast of America</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1642</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Outbreak of civil war.</em> Ld. <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> <em>joins the</em> <span class='fss'>KING</span> <em>at York</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1644</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Privy Seal</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1649</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Execution of</em> <span class='fss'>CHARLES I</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1652</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span>Richard Sackville, 5th <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1622–1677</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>Before 1638</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> Lady <span class='fss'>FRANCES CRANFIELD</span>, <em>daughter of</em> <span class='fss'>LIONEL</span> Earl <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>MIDDLESEX</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1662<a id='tix'></a></td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>EDWARD</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1660<br />1670</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Middlesex and Sussex</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>1677 <em>Death</em></td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>Charles Sackville, 6th <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> <em>and</em> <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>MIDDLESEX</span>, 1638–1706</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1660</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Member of Parliament</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1660</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Restoration of</em> <span class='fss'>CHARLES II</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1665</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Naval battle against the Dutch</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1667</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Living with</em> <span class='fss'>NELL GWYNN</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1668</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to France</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1674</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of his mother; he succeeds to the Cranfield estates</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1675</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Created</em> Earl <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>MIDDLESEX</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1677</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>RICHARD</span>, <em>as</em> Earl <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1678</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>MARY</span>, Countess <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>FALMOUTH</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1685</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> Lady <span class='fss'>MARY COMPTON</span>, <em>daughter of</em> <span class='fss'>JAMES</span> Earl <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>NORTHAMPTON</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1685</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Charles II. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>JAMES II</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1688</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Accession of</em> <span class='fss'>WILLIAM</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>ORANGE</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1689<br />1697</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Chamberlain</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1691</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Knight of the Garter</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1701</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>His poems published with</em> <span class='fss'>SEDLEY’S</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1702</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of William III. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>QUEEN ANNE</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1704</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>ANNE ROCHE</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1706</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>Lionel Sackville, 7th <span class='fss'>EARL</span> <em>and</em> 1st <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1688–1765</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1706</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>CHARLES</span>, <em>as</em> Earl <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> <em>and</em> <span class='fss'>MIDDLESEX</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1709</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>ELIZABETH COLYEAR</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>1708</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, intermittently till 1728</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1714</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Knight of the Garter</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1714</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of Queen Anne. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>GEORGE I</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1720</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Created</em> Duke <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1725</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Steward</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1727</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of George I. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>GEORGE II</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1730</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland till 1737</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1746</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Kent</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1750</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland till 1755</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1760</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death of George II. Succeeded by</em> <span class='fss'>GEORGE III</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1765</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>Charles Sackville, 2nd <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1711–1769</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>Before 1734</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>On the Grand Tour</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1734</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Member of Parliament intermittently till 1754. Lord of the Treasury and Master of the Horse</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1744</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>GRACE BOYLE</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1765</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>LIONEL</span>, <em>as</em> Duke <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1769</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>John Frederick Sackville, 3rd <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1745–1799</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1769</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his uncle</em>, <span class='fss'>CHARLES</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1783<br />1789</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Ambassador to</em> <span class='fss'>LOUIS XVI</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1788</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Knight of the Garter</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1769<br />1797</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord-Lieutenant of Kent</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1789<br />1799</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Lord Steward</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1790</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Married</em> <span class='fss'>ARABELLA DIANA</span>, <em>daughter of</em> Sir <span class='fss'>JOHN COPE</span>, <em>of Bramshill</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1799</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>George John Frederick Sackville, 4th <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, 1794–1815</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1799</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Succeeded his father</em>, <span class='fss'>JOHN FREDERICK</span></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c006'>1815</td>
- <td class='c007'><em>Death</em></td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>TABLE OF DESCENT</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div id='xii' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_xii.jpg' alt='TABLE OF DESCENT' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table1' summary='CONTENTS'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='10%' />
-<col width='78%' />
-<col width='11%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'><em>Chronological Table</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><em><a href='#Page_vii'>vii</a></em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'><em>Table of Descent</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><em><a href='#Page_xii'>xii</a></em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009'><em>Ch.</em> I</td>
- <td class='c011'>The House</td>
- <td class='c010'>p. <a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>II</td>
- <td class='c011'>The Garden and Park</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>III</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_28'>28</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>IV</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole in the Reign of James I</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>V</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole in the Reign of Charles I</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_82'>82</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>VI</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole in the Reign of Charles II</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_111'>111</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>VII</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole in the Early Eighteenth Century</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_152'>152</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>VIII</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole at the End of the Eighteenth Century</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_176'>176</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>IX</td>
- <td class='c011'>Knole in the Nineteenth Century</td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_201'>201</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'><em>Appendix</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_221'>221</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'><em>Index</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#Page_223'>223</a></td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c013'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xiv'>xiv</span><em>The dome of Knole, by fame enrolled,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The Church of Canterbury,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The hops, the beer, the cherries there,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Would fill a noble story.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_xv'>xv</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table1' summary='LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='20%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 3RD DUKE OF DORSET.</span> <em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>GAINSBOROUGH</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><em><a href='#Frontispiece'>Frontispiece</a></em></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>NORTH-EAST VIEW OF KNOLE.</span> <em>From the drawing by</em> <span class='fss'>T. BRIDGEMAN</span> <em>To face page</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_002'>2</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE GREEN COURT, BOURCHIER’S ORIEL</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_006'>6</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE STONE COURT, BOURCHIER’S GATEHOUSE</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_010'>10</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE STONE COURT</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_016'>16</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>KNOLE FROM AN AEROPLANE</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_020'>20</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE GARDEN SIDE</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_022'>22</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>A GATEWAY INTO THE GARDEN</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_026'>26</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>A CONFERENCE OF ENGLISH AND SPANISH PLENIPOTENTIARIES AT SOMERSET HOUSE IN 1604.</span> <em>From the painting by</em> <span class='fss'>MARC GHEERHARDTS</span> <em>in the National Portrait Gallery</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_032'>32</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>LEAD PIPE-HEADS.</span> <em>Put Up by</em> <span class='fss'>THOMAS SACKVILLE</span> <em>in 1605</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_038'>38</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE GREAT STAIRCASE (UPPER FLIGHT).</span> <em>Built by</em> <span class='fss'>THOMAS SACKVILLE 1604–8</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_046'>46</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>RICHARD SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET, K.G.</span> <em>From the miniature by</em> <span class='fss'>ISAAC OLIVER</span> <em>in the Victoria and Albert Museum</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_052'>52</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>LADY ANNE CLIFFORD</span>, <em>wife of</em> <span class='fss'>RICHARD SACKVILLE</span>, <em>3rd Earl of Dorset. From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>MYTENS</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_056'>56</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>LADY MARGARET SACKVILLE</span>, <em>daughter to</em> <span class='fss'>RICHARD SACKVILLE</span>, <em>3rd Earl of Dorset, and</em> <span class='fss'>LADY ANNE CLIFFORD</span>: “The Child.” <em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>MYTENS</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_068'>68</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE VENETIAN AMBASSADOR’S BEDROOM</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_072'>72</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>EDWARD SACKVILLE, 4TH EARL OF DORSET, K.G.</span> <em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>VANDYCK</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_084'>84</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE TWO SONS OF EDWARD, 4TH EARL OF DORSET: RICHARD, LORD BUCKHURST</span> <em>and</em> <span class='fss'>THE HON. EDWARD SACKVILLE</span>. <em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>CORNELIUS NUIE</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_106'>106</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>CHARLES SACKVILLE, 6TH EARL OF DORSET, K.G.</span> <em>From the portrait by Sir</em> <span class='fss'>GODFREY KNELLER</span> <em>in the Poets’ Parlour at Knole</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_116'>116</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>THE BROWN GALLERY.</span> <em>Built by</em> <span class='fss'>ARCHBISHOP BOURCHIER</span> <em>in 1460</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_148'>148</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xvi'>xvi</span><span class='fss'>LADY BETTY GERMAINE.</span> <em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>C. PHILLIPS</span> <em>To face page</em></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_168'>168</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>LADY BETTY GERMAINE’S BEDROOM AT KNOLE</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_172'>172</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>HWANG-A-TUNG, A CHINESE BOY</span>, page to the 3rd Duke of Dorset. <em>From the portrait at Knole by Sir</em> <span class='fss'>JOSHUA REYNOLDS</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_192'>192</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 3RD EARL OF DORSET; ARABELLA DIANA, 3RD DUCHESS OF DORSET; THE EARL OF MIDDLESEX; LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE</span>, <em>and</em> <span class='fss'>LADY MARY SACKVILLE</span>. <em>From a silhouette by</em> <span class='fss'>A. T. TERSTAN 1797.</span> <em>The property of</em> <span class='fss'>LADY SACKVILLE</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_196'>196</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>GEORGE JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, 4TH EARL OF DORSET; LADY MARY SACKVILLE</span>, <em>and</em> <span class='fss'>LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE</span>. <em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='fss'>HOPPNER</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_204'>204</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='fss'>ROCKING-HORSE</span>, once the property of the 4th Duke of Dorset: <span class='fss'>A RECEIPT</span> <em>from</em> <span class='fss'>GAINSBOROUGH</span></td>
- <td class='c010'><a href='#i_208'>208</a></td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I<br /> The House</h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c015'>There are two sides from which you may first
-profitably look at the house. One is from the
-park, the north side. From here the pile shows
-best the vastness of its size; it looks like a mediaeval
-village. It is heaped with no attempt at symmetry; it
-is sombre and frowning; the grey towers rise; the
-battlements cut out their square regularity against the
-sky; the buttresses of the old twelfth-century tithe-barn
-give a rough impression of fortifications. There
-is a line of trees in one of the inner courtyards, and
-their green heads show above the roofs of the old
-breweries; but although they are actually trees of a
-considerable size they are dwarfed and unnoticeable
-against the mass of the buildings blocked behind them.
-The whole pile soars to a peak which is the clocktower
-with its pointed roof: it might be the spire of
-the church on the summit of the hill crowning the
-mediaeval village. At sunset I have seen the silhouette
-of the great building stand dead black on a red sky; on
-moonlight nights it stands black and silent, with glinting
-windows, like an enchanted castle. On misty autumn
-nights I have seen it emerging partially from the trails
-of vapour, and heard the lonely roar of the red deer
-roaming under the walls.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>The other side is the garden side—the gay, princely
-side, with flowers in the foreground; the grey walls
-rising straight up from the green turf; the mullioned
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>windows, and the Tudor gables with the heraldic
-leopards sitting stiffly at each corner. The park side is
-the side for winter; the garden side the side for
-summer. It has an indescribable gaiety and courtliness.
-The grey of the Kentish rag is almost pearly in the sun,
-the occasional coral festoon of a climbing rose dashed
-against it; the long brown-red roofs are broken by the
-chimney-stacks with their slim, peaceful threads of blue
-smoke mounting steadily upwards. One looks down
-upon the house from a certain corner in the garden.
-Here is a bench among a group of yews—dark, red-berried
-yews; and the house lies below one in the
-hollow, lovely in its colour and its serenity. It has all
-the quality of peace and permanence; of mellow age;
-of stateliness and tradition. It is gentle and venerable.
-Yet it is, as I have said, gay. It has the deep inward
-gaiety of some very old woman who has always been
-beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many
-generations come and go, smiled wisely over their
-sorrows and their joys, and learnt an imperishable
-secret of tolerance and humour. It is, above all, an
-English house. It has the tone of England; it melts
-into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green
-of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English
-sky; it settles down into its hollow amongst the
-cushioned tops of the trees; the brown-red of those
-roofs is the brown-red of the roofs of humble farms and
-pointed oast-houses, such as stain over a wide landscape
-of England the quilt-like pattern of the fields. I make
-bold to say that it stoops to nothing either pretentious
-or meretricious. There is here no flourish of architecture,
-no ornament but the leopards, rigid and
-vigilant. The stranger may even think, upon arrival,
-that the front of the house is disappointing. It is,
-indeed, extremely modest. There is a gate-house
-flanked by two square grey towers, placed between
-two wings which provide only a monotony of windows
-and gables. It is true that two or three fine sycamores,
-symmetrical and circular as open umbrellas, redeem
-the severity of the front, and that a herd of fallow deer,
-browsing in the dappled shade of the trees, maintains
-the tradition of an English park. But, for the rest, the
-front of the house is so severe as to be positively uninteresting;
-it is quiet and monkish; “a beautiful decent
-simplicity,” said Horace Walpole, “which charms
-one.” There is here to be found none of the splendour
-of Elizabethan building. A different impression, however,
-is in store when once the wicket-gate has been
-opened. You are in a courtyard of a size the frontage
-had never led you to expect, and the vista through a
-second gateway shows you the columns of a second
-court; your eye is caught by an oriel window opposite,
-and by other windows with heraldic bearings in their
-panes, promise of rooms and galleries; by gables and
-the heraldic leopards; by the clock tower which gives
-an oddly Chinese effect immediately above the Tudor
-oriel. Up till a few years ago Virginia creeper blazed
-scarlet in autumn on the walls of the Green Court, but
-it has now been torn away, and what may be lost in
-colour is compensated by the gain in seeing the grey
-stone and the slight moulding which runs, following
-the shape of the towers, across the house.</p>
-<div id='i_002' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_002fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>NORTH-EAST VIEW OF KNOLE<br /><br /><em>From the drawing by</em> <span class='sc'>T. Bridgeman</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>On the whole, the quadrangle is reminiscent of
-Oxford, though more palatial and less studious. The
-house is built round a system of these courtyards:
-first this one, the Green Court, which is the largest and
-most magnificent; then the second one, or Stone
-Court, which is not turfed, like the Green Court, but
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>wholly paved, and which has along one side of it a
-Jacobean colonnade; the third court is the Water
-Court, and has none of the display of the first two: it
-is smaller, and quite demure, indeed rather like some
-old house in Nuremberg, with the latticed window
-of one of the galleries running the whole length
-of it, and the friendly unconcern of an immense
-bay-tree growing against one of its walls. There
-are four other courts, making seven in all. This
-number is supposed to correspond to the days in
-the week; and in pursuance of this conceit there are
-in the house fifty-two staircases, corresponding to the
-weeks in the year, and three hundred and sixty-five
-rooms, corresponding to the days. I cannot truthfully
-pretend that I have ever verified these counts, and it
-may be that their accuracy is accepted solely on the
-strength of the legend; but, if this is so, then it has been
-a very persistent legend, and I prefer to sympathise
-with the amusement of the ultimate architect on
-making the discovery that by a judicious juggling with
-his additions he could bring courts, stairs, and rooms
-up to that satisfactory total.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>A stone lobby under the oriel window divides the
-Green Court from the Stone Court. In summer the
-great oak doors of this second gate-house are left open,
-and it has sometimes happened that I have found a stag
-in the banqueting hall, puzzled but still dignified,
-strayed in from the park since no barrier checked him.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It becomes impossible, after passing through the
-formality of the two first quadrangles, to follow the
-ramblings of the house geographically. They are so involved
-that, after a lifetime of familiarity, I still catch myself
-pausing to think out the shortest route from one room
-to another. Four acres of building is no mean matter.</p>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>
- <h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c017'>Into the very early mediaeval history of the house I
-do not think that I need enter. It is suggested that a
-Roman building once occupied the site, and that
-some foundations which were recently unearthed
-beneath the larder—evidently one of the oldest portions—once
-formed part of that construction. The
-question of dating the existing buildings, however, is
-quite sufficiently complicated without going back to a
-building which no longer exists. Nor do I think that
-the early owners—the Pembrokes, or the Say and
-Seles—offer the smallest interest; if we knew precisely
-what parts of the house we owed to them
-severally it would be another matter, but the mediaeval
-records are very scanty. It is safe to say, generally
-speaking, that the north side is the oldest side; it is
-the most sombre, the most massive, and the most
-irregular; there are buttresses, battlements, and
-towers, but no gables and no embellishments—nothing
-but solid masonry. Up in the north-east corner is the
-old kitchen, and the old entrances through dark archways
-at the top of stairways. The passages here, of
-thick stone, twist oddly, and their ceilings are groined
-by semi-arches which have become lost and embedded
-in the alterations to the stone-work. It is a dark, massive,
-little-visited corner, this nucleus of Knole.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The house, or such portions of it as then existed, was
-bought from William, Lord Say and Sele, by
-Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, on June 30,
-1456, and it is clear from the numerous bills among
-the archives at Lambeth Palace that both he and his
-more notable successor, Cardinal Morton, carried out
-extensive additions, alterations, and repairs. It is, however,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>a very difficult task to determine what parts of the
-building definitely belong to this period, for, what with
-the additions of the archbishops and the alterations of
-the later Sackvilles, all is confusion. It would appear,
-for instance, that upon a foundation of Tudor masonry
-the Sackvilles constructed the Elizabethan gables
-which are now so characteristic a feature of the house;
-but it is less easy to say exactly how much the first
-Tudor archbishop found there on his arrival of
-earlier workmanship. A further confusing factor is the
-great fire which took place in 1623, and is reported to
-have destroyed a large part of the building—but
-exactly where, and how much, we cannot say. Nor are
-the accounts at Lambeth very illuminating:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In divers costs and expenses made this year [1467] for
-repairing the manor of Knole, carriage for the two cart loads
-of lathes from Panters to the manor, 14<em>d.</em> For carriage of
-thirty loads of stone for the new tower, 7<em>d.</em> load = 16/9.
-Carriage of six loads of timber at 7<em>d.</em> = 3/6. Carriage of one
-fother of lead from London to Knole, 3/4.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The next year, 1468:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Repairs at Knole. One labourer for 6 days work in the
-great chamber and the new <em>seler</em>, 2/-. Making of 700
-lathes to the new tower, 14<em>d.</em> One labourer 4½ days in the
-old kitchen, 4<em>d.</em> Item, for 1 j M<sup>1</sup> of walle prygge (<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>) to the
-stable and other places, 13<em>d.</em> One cowl to the masonry, 12<em>d.</em></p>
-<div id='i_006' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_006fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE GREEN COURT: BOURCHIER’S ORIEL</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>The “great chamber” referred to here was in all
-probability the present Great Hall, which we know to
-have been built by Bourchier about 1460, although it
-was altered by Thomas Sackville, who put in the present
-ceiling, panelling, and oak screen. Thomas also built
-the Great Staircase in 1604–8, leading to the Ball-room,
-which is of the time of Bourchier. I expect this
-is the “seler” referred to, meaning solar and not
-cellar, as might be thought; or did it mean the present
-colonnade, which is also of Bourchier’s building, in
-1468? The position of the “new tower” is nowhere
-specified, but I wonder whether it is not the tower
-beside the chapel, where there is a stone fireplace bearing
-Bourchier’s cognisance—the double knot—and the
-same device in a small pane of stained glass in the window.
-This tower, moreover, goes commonly by the
-name of Bourchier’s Tower.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There are a few more items mentioned in the
-Lambeth papers, 1468–9: “Repairs at Knole. Repairs
-at one house set aside for the slaughter of sheep
-and other [animals?] for the use of the Lord’s great
-house at Sevenoaks, 113<em>s.</em> 2<em>d.</em>” This, I think, is certainly
-the old slaughter-house which forms one side of
-the Queen’s Court. It is obviously a very old building.
-But there is one point in this account which is of
-interest, namely, that Knole should at this date have
-been referred to as the “great house.” This would
-seem to prove that the greater mass of the building was
-already in existence, since by the latter half of the
-fifteenth century there were already many houses and
-palaces in England whose bulk would argue that the
-current standard of greatness might be high and the
-adjective not too readily applied. The Primate owned,
-moreover, up to the time of the Reformation no less
-than twelve palaces and houses of residence in the
-diocese of Canterbury alone, namely, Bekesburn, Ford,
-Maidstone, Charing, Saltwood, Aldington, Wingham,
-Wrotham, Tenterden, Knole, Otford, and Canterbury.
-It seems, therefore, unlikely that Knole should be
-singled out as a “great house” unless there were good
-justification for the expression.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Bourchier also built the Brown Gallery about 1460,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>and at or about the same date he put up the machicolations
-over the gate-house between the Green Court and
-the Stone Court. Towards the end of the same century,
-Morton, his successor, “threw out an oriel
-window which rendered the machicolations useless,
-and showed that all idea of such fortifications was at an
-end.” It is not known precisely how much Morton
-built at Knole. It is even uncertain whether he or
-Bourchier built the Chapel. The Lambeth records
-cease with some small repairs in 1487–88, so we
-have nothing to go upon—all the more pity, for
-Morton was a great prelate, forgotten now in the
-greater fame of the Tudor dynasty, “his name
-buried,” says his chronicler, “under his own creation.”
-This cardinal, having succeeded Bourchier in 1486,
-held the Primacy for fourteen years, and died at Knole
-in 1500. I pass over his successors, Dean and Wareham,
-for I do not know how much they did at Knole.
-Cranmer, the next archbishop, enjoyed the house for
-seven years only, when he was compelled—quite
-amicably, but nevertheless compelled—to present it to
-Henry VIII, whose fancy it had taken. Here the
-accounts begin again,<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c020'><sup>[1]</sup></a> although they give very little
-indication: £872 by Royal Warrant in 1543, £770 in
-1548, £80 in 1546—three sums which would now be
-equivalent, roughly, to £30,000.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>After Henry VIII Knole continued as Crown
-property, passing now and then temporarily into the
-hands of various favourites, until in 1586 it was given
-by Queen Elizabeth to her cousin, Thomas Sackville,
-and has remained in the possession of his family ever
-since.</p>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>
- <h3 class='c016'>§ iv</h3>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c017'>The main block, therefore, meanders from Henry
-VII through Henry VIII to Elizabeth and James I:
-that is to say, roughly, from the end of the fifteenth
-century to the beginning of the seventeenth. There
-may be earlier out-buildings and later excrescences,
-but it is safe to say that the greater portion was built
-in the reigns of the Tudors. It is all of the same
-Kentish rag, with the exception of a row of gables
-which have been plastered over, and which were probably
-once of the beam-and-plaster fashion so prevalent
-at that date in Kent. With this exception the walls are
-of the grey stone, in many places ten and twelve feet
-thick, cool in summer, and, for some reason, not particularly
-warm in winter. The rooms are, for the most
-part, rather small and rather low; they break out, of
-course, now into galleries, now into a ball-room, now
-into a banqueting-hall, but the majority of them are
-small, friendly rooms—not intimidating; some people
-might even think them poky, relative to the size of the
-house. I do not think that they are poky. They are
-eminently rooms intended to be lived in, and not
-merely admired, though no doubt a practical consideration
-was present in the problem of heating to
-determine their size. Yet from an old diary preserved
-at Knole, and from which in its place I shall have the
-opportunity to give extracts, it is clear that in the
-early seventeenth century at all events the life of the
-house was carried on largely in one or the other of the
-long galleries. Now, none of the galleries has more than
-one fireplace. It must have been very cold. The old
-braziers that could be carried about the room as
-occasion required still stand in the rooms where they
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>were used, and so do the copper warming-pans, shining
-and perforated, which were thrust into the beds to
-warm them before the arrival of the occupant. The
-principal beds, of course, must have been magnificently
-stuffy. They are four-posters, so tall as to
-reach from floor to ceiling, with stiff brocaded curtains
-that could completely enclose the sleeper. But
-on winter days I cannot believe that the group ever
-moved very far away from the fireplace or the brazier;
-and indeed, judging from the same diary, they seemed
-always to be “keeping their chamber” on account of
-coughs, colds, rheumatism, or ague when they were
-not keeping it because they were “sullen” with one
-another, or “brought to bed” of a son or a daughter.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ v</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>The galleries are perhaps the most characteristic
-rooms in such a house.</p>
-<div id='i_010' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_010fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE STONE COURT: BOURCHIER’S GATEHOUSE</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>Long and narrow, with dark shining floors, armorial
-glass in the windows, rich plaster-work ceilings, and
-portraits on the walls, they are splendidly sombre and
-sumptuous. The colour of the Cartoon Gallery, when
-I have come into it in the evening, with the sunset
-flaming through the west window, has often taken my
-breath away. I have stood, stock still and astonished,
-in the doorway. The gallery is ninety feet in length,
-the floor formed of black oak planks irregularly laid,
-the charm of which is that they are not planks at all,
-but solid tree-trunks, split in half, with the rounded
-half downwards; and on this oak flooring lie the blue
-and scarlet patches from the stained west window, more
-subduedly echoed in the velvets of the chair coverings,
-the coloured marbles of the great Renaissance fireplace, and the fruits and garlands of the carved woodwork
-surrounding the windows. There is nothing
-garish: all the colours have melted into an old
-harmony that is one of the principal beauties of these
-rooms. The walls here in the Cartoon Gallery are hung
-with rose-red Genoa velvet, so lovely that I almost
-regret Mytens’ copies of the Raphael cartoons hiding
-most of it; but if, at Knole, one were too nicely
-reluctant to sacrifice the walls, whether panelled or
-velvet-hung, then all the pictures would have to be
-stacked on the floor of the attics. The same regret
-applies to the ball-room, where the Elizabethan
-panelling—oak, but originally painted white, turned
-by age to ivory—is so covered up as to be unnoticeable
-behind the Sackville portraits of ten generations.
-Fortunately, the frieze in the ball-room cannot be
-hidden. It used to delight me as a child, with its carved
-intricacies of mermaids and dolphins, mermen and
-mermaids with scaly, twisting tails and salient anatomy,
-and I was invariably contemptuous of those visitors to
-whom I pointed out the frieze but who were more
-interested in the pictures. It always fell to my lot to
-“show the house” to visitors when I was living there
-alone with my grandfather, for he shared the family
-failing of unsociability, and whenever a telegram
-arrived threatening invasion he used to take the next
-train to London for the day, returning in the evening
-when the coast was clear. It mattered nothing that
-I was every whit as bored by the invasion as he could
-have been; in a divergence between the wishes of
-eighty and the wishes of eight, the wishes of eight
-went to the wall.</p>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>
- <h3 class='c016'>§ vi</h3>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c017'>There are other galleries, older and more austere
-than the Cartoon Gallery. They are not quite so long,
-they are narrower, lower, and darker, and not so
-exuberant in decoration; indeed, they are simply and
-soberly panelled in oak. They have the old, musty
-smell which, to me, whenever I met it, would bring
-back Knole. I suppose it is really the smell of all old
-houses—a mixture of woodwork, pot-pourri, leather,
-tapestry, and the little camphor bags which keep away
-the moth; the smell engendered by the shut windows
-of winter and the open windows of summer, with the
-breeze of summer blowing in from across the park.
-Bowls of lavender and dried rose-leaves stand on the
-window-sills; and if you stir them up you get the
-quintessence of the smell, a sort of dusty fragrance,
-sweeter in the under layers where it has held the damp
-of the spices. The pot-pourri at Knole is always made
-from the recipe of a prim-looking little old lady who
-lived there for many years as a guest in the reigns of
-George I and George II. Her two rooms open out of
-one of the galleries, two of the smallest rooms in the
-house, the bedroom hung with a pale landscape of
-blue-green tapestry, the sitting-room panelled in oak;
-and in the bedroom stands her small but pompous bed,
-with bunches of ostrich-plumes nodding at each of the
-four corners. Strangers usually seem to like these two
-little rooms best, coming to them as they do, rather
-overawed by the splendour of the galleries; they are
-amused by the smallness of the four-poster, square as a
-box, its creamy lining so beautifully quilted; by the
-spinning-wheel, with the shuttle still full of old flax;
-and by the ring-box, containing a number of plain-cut
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>stones, which could be exchanged at will into the
-single gold setting provided. The windows of these
-rooms, furthermore, look out on to the garden; they
-are human, habitable little rooms, reassuring after the
-pomp of the Ball-room and the galleries. In the
-sitting-room there is a small portrait of the prim lady,
-Lady Betty Germaine, sitting very stiff in a blue
-brocaded dress; she looks as though she had been a
-martinet in a tight, narrow way.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The gallery leading to these rooms is called the
-Brown Gallery. It is well named—oak floor, oak
-walls, and barrelled ceiling, criss-crossed with oak
-slats in a pattern something like cat’s cradle. Some of
-the best pieces of the English furniture are ranged
-down each side of this gallery: portentously important
-chairs, Jacobean cross-legged or later love-seats in
-their original coverings, whether of plum and silver,
-or red brocade with heavy fringes, or green with silver
-fringes, or yellow silk sprigged in black, or powder-blue;
-and all have their attendant stool squatting
-beside them. They are lovely, silent rows, for ever
-holding out their arms, and for ever disappointed. At
-the end of this gallery is a tiny oratory, down two
-steps, for the use of the devout: this little, almost
-secret, place glows with colour like a jewel, but nobody
-ever notices it, and on the whole it probably prefers
-to hide itself away unobserved.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is also the Leicester Gallery, which preserves in
-its name the sole trace of Lord Leicester’s brief ownership
-of Knole. The Leicester Gallery is very dark and
-mysterious, furnished with red velvet Cromwellian
-farthingale chairs and sofas, dark as wine; there are
-illuminated scrolls of two family pedigrees—Sackville
-and Curzon—richly emblazoned with coats of arms,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>drawn out in 1589 and 1623 respectively; and in the
-end window there is a small stained-glass portrait of
-“Herbrand de Sackville, a Norman notable, came into
-England with William the Conqueror, <span class='fss'>A.D.</span> 1066.”
-(<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Herbrandus de Sackville, Praepotens Normanus,
-intravit Angliam cum Gulielmo Conquestore, Anno
-Domini MLXVI.</span></i>) There is also a curious portrait
-hanging on one of the doors, of Catherine Fitzgerald
-Countess of Desmond, the portrait of a very old lady,
-in a black dress and a white ruff, with that strange
-far-away look in her dead blue eyes that comes with
-extreme age. For tradition says of her that she was
-born in the reign of Edward the Fourth and died in
-the reign of Charles the First, breaking her leg
-incidentally at the age of ninety by falling off a cherry
-tree; that is to say, she was a child when the princes
-were smothered in the Tower, a girl when Henry the
-Seventh came to the throne, and watched the pageant
-of all the Tudors and the accession of the Stuarts—the
-whole of English history enclosed between the Wars
-of the Roses and the Civil War. She must have been a
-truly legendary figure in the country by the time she
-had reached the age of a hundred and forty or thereabouts.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is rather a frightening portrait, that portrait of
-Lady Desmond. If you go into the gallery after nightfall
-with a candle the pale, far-away eyes stare past
-you into the dark corners of the wainscot, eyes either
-over-charged or empty—which? The house is not
-haunted, but you require either an unimaginative
-nerve or else a complete certainty of the house’s
-benevolence before you can wander through the state-rooms
-after nightfall with a candle. The light gleams
-on the dull gilding of furniture and into the misty
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>depths of mirrors, and startles up a sudden face out
-of the gloom; something creaks and sighs; the
-tapestry sways, and the figures on it undulate and seem
-to come alive. The recesses of the great beds, deep in
-shadow, might be inhabited, and you would not know
-it; eyes might watch you, unseen. The man with the
-candle is under a terrible disadvantage to the man in
-the dark.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ vii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>As there are three galleries among the state-rooms, so
-are there three principal bedrooms: the King’s, the
-Venetian Ambassador’s, and the Spangled Room. The
-King’s bedroom is the only vulgar room in the house.
-Not that the furniture put there for the reception of
-James the First is vulgar: it is excessively magnificent,
-the canopy of the immense bed reaching almost to the
-ceiling, decked with ostrich feathers, the hangings stiff
-with gold and silver thread, the coverlet and the interior
-of the curtains heavily embroidered with a design
-of pomegranates and tiger-lilies worked in silver on a
-coral satin ground, the royal cipher embossed over the
-pillows—all this is very magnificent, but not vulgar.
-What is vulgar is the set of furniture made entirely in
-silver: table, hanging mirror, and tripods—the florid
-and ostentatious product of the florid Restoration. There
-is a surprising amount of silver in the room: sconces,
-ginger-jars, mirrors, fire-dogs, toilet-set, rose-water
-sprinklers, even to a little eye-bath, all of silver, but these
-smaller objects have not the blatancy of the set of furniture.
-Charles Sackville, for whom it was made, cannot
-have known when he had had enough of a good thing.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is almost a relief to go from here to the Venetian
-Ambassador’s Bedroom. Green and gold; Burgundian
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>tapestry, mediaeval figures walking in a
-garden; a rosy Persian rug—of all rooms I never saw
-a room that so had over it a bloom like the bloom on a
-bowl of grapes and figs. I cannot keep the simile,
-which may convey nothing to those who have not
-seen the room, out of my mind. Greens and pinks
-originally bright, now dusted and tarnished over. It
-is a very grave, stately room, rather melancholy in
-spite of its stateliness. It seems to miss its inhabitants
-more than do any of the other rooms. Perhaps this
-is because the bed appears to be designed for three:
-it is of enormous breadth, and there are three pillows
-in a row. Presumably this is what the Italians call a
-<i><span lang="it" xml:lang="it">letto matrimoniale</span></i>.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ viii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>In a remote corner of the house is the Chapel of
-the Archbishops, small, and very much bejewelled.
-Tapestry, oak, and stained-glass—the chapel smoulders
-with colour. It is greatly improved since the oak
-has been pickled and the mustard-yellow paint
-removed, also the painted myrtle-wreaths, tied with a
-gilt ribbon, in the centre of each panel, with which the
-nineteenth century adorned it, when it was considered
-“very simple, plain, and neat in its appearance, and
-well adapted for family worship.” The hand of the
-nineteenth century fell rather heavily on the chapel:
-besides painting the oak yellow and the ceiling blue
-with gold stars, it erected a Gothic screen and a yellow
-organ; but fortunately these are both at the entrance,
-and you can turn your back on them and look down
-the little nave to the altar where Mary Queen of Scots’
-gifts stand under the Perpendicular east window. All
-along the left-hand wall hangs the Gothic tapestry—scenes from the life of Christ, the figures, ungainly
-enough, trampling on an edging of tall irises and
-lilies exquisitely designed; and “Saint Luke in his
-first profession,” wrote Horace Walpole irreverently,
-“holding a urinal.” There used to be other tapestries
-in the house; there was one of the Seven Deadly
-Sins set, woven with gold threads, and there was
-another series, very early, representing the Flood and
-the two-by-two procession of the animals going into
-a weather-boarded Ark; but these, alas, had to be
-sold, and are now in America.</p>
-<div id='i_016' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_016fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE STONE COURT</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>The chapel looks strange and lovely during a midnight
-thunderstorm: the lightning flashes through the
-stone ogives of the east window, and one gets a queer
-effect, unreal like colour photography, of the colours
-lit up by that unfamiliar means. A flight of little
-private steps leads out of my bedroom straight into the
-Family Pew; so I dare to say that there are few aspects
-under which I have not seen the chapel; and as a child
-I used to “take sanctuary” there when I had been
-naughty: that is to say, fairly often. They never
-found me, sulking inside the pulpit.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ix</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>There would, of course, be many other aspects from
-which I might consider Knole; indeed, if I allowed
-myself full licence I might ramble out over Kent and
-down into Sussex, to Lewes, Buckhurst, and Withyham,
-out into the fruit country and the hop country,
-across the Weald, over Saxonbury, and to Lewes
-among the Downs, and still I should not feel guilty of
-irrelevance. Of whatever English county I spoke,
-I still should be aware of the relationship between the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>English soil and that most English house. But more
-especially do I feel this concerning Kent and Sussex,
-and concerning the roads over which the Sackvilles
-travelled so constantly between estate and estate. The
-place-names in their letters recur through the centuries;
-the paper is a little yellower as the age increases,
-the ink a little more faded, the handwriting a little less
-easily decipherable, but still the gist is always the same:
-“I go to-morrow into Kent,” “I quit Buckhurst for
-Knole,” “my Lord rode to Lewes with a great company,”
-“we came to Knole by coach at midnight.”
-The whole district is littered with their associations,
-whether a village whose living lay in their gift, or a
-town where they endowed a college, or a wood where
-they hunted, or the village church where they had
-themselves buried. Sussex, in fact, was their cradle
-long before they came into Kent. Buckhurst, which
-they had owned since the twelfth century, was at one
-time an even larger house than Knole, and to their own
-vault in its parish church of Withyham they were
-invariably brought to rest. Their trace is scattered
-over the two counties. But this was not my only meaning;
-I had in mind that Knole was no mere
-excrescence, no alien fabrication, no startling stranger
-seen between the beeches and the oaks. No other
-country but England could have produced it, and into
-no other country would it settle with such harmony
-and such quiet. The very trees have not been banished
-from the courtyards, but spread their green against the
-stone. From the top of a tower one looks down upon
-the acreage of roofs, and the effect is less that of a
-palace than of a jumbled village upon the hillside. It
-is not an incongruity like Blenheim or Chatsworth,
-foreign to the spirit of England. It is, rather, the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>greater relation of those small manor-houses which hide
-themselves away so innumerably among the counties,
-whether built of the grey stone of south-western
-England, or the brick of East Anglia, or merely tile-hung
-or plastered like the cottages. It is not utterly
-different from any of these. The great Palladian
-houses of the eighteenth century are <em>in</em> England, they
-are not <em>of</em> England, as are these irregular roofs, this
-easy straying up the contours of the hill, these cool
-coloured walls, these calm gables, and dark windows
-mirroring the sun.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II<br /> The Garden and Park</h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c015'>You come out of the cool shadowy house on to
-the warm garden, in the summer, and there is a
-scared flutter of white pigeons up to the roof as
-you open the door. You have to look twice before you
-are sure whether they are pigeons or magnolias. The
-turf is of the most brilliant green; there is a sound of
-bees in the limes; the heat quivers like watered gauze
-above the ridge of the lawn. The garden is entirely
-enclosed by a high wall of rag, very massively built,
-and which perhaps dates back to the time of the archbishops;
-its presence, I think, gives a curious sense
-of seclusion and quiet. Inside the walls are herbaceous
-borders on either side of long green walks, and little
-square orchards planted with very old apple-trees,
-under which grow iris, snapdragon, larkspur, pansies,
-and such-like humble flowers. There are also interior
-walls, with rounded archways through which one
-catches a sight of the house, so that the garden is conveniently
-divided up into sections without any loss of
-the homogeneity of the whole. Half of the garden,
-roughly speaking, is formal; the other half is woodland,
-called the Wilderness, mostly of beech and chestnut,
-threaded by mossy paths which in spring are thick
-with bluebells and daffodils.</p>
-<div id='i_020' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_020fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p><span class='right'><em>Airco Aerials Ltd.</em></span><br /><br />KNOLE FROM AN AEROPLANE</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>The old engravings show the gardens to have been,
-from the seventeenth century onwards, very much the
-same as they are at present. There are a few minor
-variations, but as the early engravers were not very
-particular as to accuracy their evidence cannot be
-accepted as wholly reliable. We have, besides these
-engravings, a fairly large number of records relating to
-both the park and gardens. The earliest of these that
-I have been able to trace is dated 1456, to the effect
-that Archbishop Bourchier in that year enclosed the
-park—a smaller area then than is covered by it now;
-and in 1468 there is a bill, “Paid for making 1000
-palings for the enclosure of the Knole land, 6<em>s.</em> 8<em>d.</em>”
-But the first accounts for the garden proper appear to
-date from the reign of Henry VIII (State papers of
-Henry VIII), when, in 1543, Sir Richard Longe was
-paid “for making the King’s garden at Knole.” Then
-there is a gap of nearly a century, save for the references
-to the garden in Lady Anne Clifford’s Diary, such as
-“<em>25th October, 1617</em>. My Lady Lisle and my Coz:
-Barbara Sidney [came?] and I walked with them all
-the Wilderness over. They saw the Child and much
-commended her. I gave them some marmalade of
-quince, for about this time I made much of it”; and
-her constant notes of how she took her prayer-book
-“up to the standing” [which I take to be what we
-now call the Duchess’ Seat], or of how she picked
-cherries in the garden with the French page, and he
-told her how he thought that all the men in the house
-loved her. For the year 1692, however, there are some
-bills among the Knole papers, such as “Mr. Olloynes,
-gardener, wages £12 per annum,” and some bills for
-seeds and roots, “Sweet yerbs, pawsley, sorrill,
-spinnig, spruts, leeks, sallet, horse-rydish, jerusalem
-hawty-chorks,” and another bill for seeds for £2. 0<em>s.</em> 5<em>d.</em>
-Coming to the eighteenth century, there are more
-detailed accounts, amongst others an agreement of what
-was expected in those days of a head gardener and the
-remuneration he might hope to receive:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span><em>14th Aug., 1706.</em> Ric. Baker, Gardener with Lionel Earl
-of Dorset and Middlesex. To serve his Lordship as
-Gardener at Knole for the term of one year ½ to begin in
-March 1706. That he will reserve all the fruit which shall
-be growing in the garden for his Lordship’s use. That he
-will at his own charge during the said term preserve all
-Trees and Greens now in the garden, and will maintain the
-trees in good husbandlike manner by pruning and trimming,
-dunging and marling the same in seasonable times, and likewise
-at his own charge will provide all herbs and other
-things convenient for my Lord’s kitchen there when in season.
-He undertakes to maintain at his own charge all such walks
-as are now in ye said Garden, by mowing, cleaning, and
-rolling the same, and will preserve all such flowers and plants
-as are now in the gardens, and that he will be at all the
-charges of repairing all the glass frames, etc. belonging to
-the Garden Trade, and will provide for the present use of
-the Gardens 50 loads of dung.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>In return for this service he was to be allowed £30
-per annum, and</p>
-
-<p class='c021'>rooms and conveniences in the house for his business, and
-to hand all such dung, etc. as shall be made about the house
-for the use of ye gardens, and that he may have the privilege
-of disposing [for his own use] all such beans, peas, cabbages,
-and other kitchen herbs as shall be spared, over and above
-that what is used in my Lord’s kitchen.</p>
-<div id='i_022' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_022fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE GARDEN SIDE (SOUTH FRONT)</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'><span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'><em>April 28, 1718.</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Planting trees in new Oak Walk, 5 men, 8 to 18 days each</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Planting walnut trees round the Keeper’s lodge, 3 men, 5 days each at 1/2 each per day</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>17</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Cutting Bows in the yew at end of new Oak Walk</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'><em>November 11, 1723.</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Cutting and levelling new walk in ye Wilderness and making ye mount round ye Oak&nbsp;tree, 8 men, 5 to 11 days each</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Alterations made in the Fruit Walks, 16 men, from 14 to 43 days each</td>
- <td class='c022'>23</td>
- <td class='c022'>19</td>
- <td class='c010'>10</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Cutting 10,600 turfs at 8<em>d.</em> per 100</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>8</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Planting ye quarry in the Park</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c022'>7</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>10 May Duke Cherries in ye garden</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c010'>8</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>6 peach and nectarine trees in ye garden</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>2400 quick-set for ye kitchen garden</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>1000 holly for ye kitchen garden</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Planting 2000 small beeches in ye park</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>18</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>200 Pear stocks</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>300 Crab stocks</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>200 Cherry stocks</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>500 Holly stocks</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>5</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>700 Hazel stocks</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>15</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>For new making the Mulberry garden and sowing ye front walk with seed</td>
- <td class='c022'>14</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>9</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>20 Gascon Cherry trees</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>50 bushels sweet apples for cyder</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>1 bushel Buckwheat for ye Pheasants</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>10,000 seedling beeches for my Lady Germaine</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'><em>December 24, 1726.</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Getting 80 load of ice and putting it in ye Ice House</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>15</td>
- <td class='c010'>3</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'><em>June 15, 1728.</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Planting 160 Elms in field which was Dr. Lambarde’s next Tonbridge road and sowing the field with furze seed</td>
- <td class='c022'>7</td>
- <td class='c022'>9</td>
- <td class='c010'>3</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'><em>April, 1730.</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>1000 Asparagus plants from Gravesend</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>2 doz. Apricots</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>300 beeches 8ft. high</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>15</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>250 large beeches planted in ye Park</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>It is not very clear where such a large number of
-fruit trees were to be used, but on an engraving of
-about 1720 I find a wall extending right across the
-garden to the two stone pillars which, surmounted by
-carved stone urns, still remain, this wall being planted
-with fruit trees, so I should think it very probable that
-this would account for it.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>In 1777 new hot-houses and “Pineries” were built,
-and £175 paid for “two hot-houses full stocked with
-pine apples and plants.”</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>Surrounding the house and gardens lies the park,
-with its valleys, hills, and woods, and its short brown
-turf closely bitten by deer and rabbits. Its beeches and
-bracken, its glades and valleys, greatly excited the
-admiration of Mrs. Ann Radcliffe, who visited it in the
-beginning of the nineteenth century, and she wrote
-with enthusiasm of shade rising above shade with
-<em>amazing</em> and <em>magnificent</em> grandeur, and of one beech in
-particular spreading “its light yet umbrageous fan” over
-a seat placed round the bole. With all its grandeur and
-luxuriance, she said, there was nothing about this beech
-heavy or formal; it was airy, though vast and majestic,
-and suggested an idea at once of the <em>strength</em> and <em>fire</em>
-of a <em>hero</em>. She would call a beech tree, she added, and
-this beech above every other, the hero of the forest, as
-the oak was called the king.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>As I have said, the park was first enclosed by
-Bourchier in 1456, the year in which he bought Knole
-on the 30th of June. In the muniments at Lambeth
-are a number of papers relating to the expenses of this
-great builder, and there is the interesting fact that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>glass-making was carried on in the park, and I only
-wish that more detailed accounts existed of this
-industry, which, thanks to the Huguenots, had been
-pretty widely introduced into the South of England.
-I should like to know exactly where their glass-foundry
-was, and whether they made use of the sand on the
-portion known as the Furze-field, now a rabbit warren;
-and I should also very much like to know whether—as
-seems probable—they supplied any of the glass for the
-windows in the house.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It would appear that the park, now entirely under
-grass, was once ploughland, for there is at Knole a deed
-of the time of Richard Sackville, fifth Earl of Dorset—that
-is to say, the middle of the seventeenth century—which
-accords to four farmers “the liberty to plough
-anywhere in the Park except in the plain set out by my
-Lord and the ground in front of the house, and to take
-three crops, and it is agreed that one-third of each
-crop after it is severed from the ground shall be taken
-and carried away by my Lord for his own use. The
-third year, the farmers to sow the ground with grass
-seed if my Lord desires it, and they are to be at the
-charge of the seed, the tillage, and the harvest.” Later
-on, in the time of Charles I, hops were grown, not only
-around the park, but also in it. Women employed in
-picking the hops were paid 5<em>d.</em> a day, but for cleaning
-and weeding the ground they only received 3<em>d.</em> At
-this time also cattle were fed in the park during the
-summer, and belonging to the same date (about 1628)
-are the bills for “Moles caught, 1½<em>d.</em> each”; “Mowing
-the meadows,” at the rate of 1<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em> per acre;
-“Making hay,” also at 1<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em> per acre; “Carriage of
-hay from the meadows to Knole barn,” <a href='#Page_1'>1</a><em>s.</em> 4<em>d.</em> per
-load; “one hay fork and 2 hay forks together,”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>1<em>s.</em> 8<em>d.</em> For “hunting conies by night and ferret by
-day” 4<em>s.</em> was paid; the expenses involved by the
-“conies” for one year were exactly £10, which
-included £5 5<em>s.</em>, a year’s wages for the “wariner”;
-but, on the other hand, this was money well expended,
-for the revenue from “conies sold” covers no less
-than a fifth part of the year’s total income. The
-“wariner,” although his £5 5<em>s.</em> a year hardly seems
-excessive, did better than the “wood-looker,” who, for
-his woodreeveship for a year, was paid only £2.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The accounts of how and when the various outlying
-portions of the park were taken in can only be of local
-interest, and I do not therefore propose to go into
-them. They were mostly bought by John Frederick,
-the third duke, and by Lord Whitworth, who had
-married John Frederick’s widow. The ruins round the
-queer little sham Gothic house called the Bird House—which
-always frightened me as a child because I
-thought it looked like the witch’s house in Hansel and
-Gretel, tucked away in its hollow, with its pointed
-gables—were built for John Frederick’s grandfather
-about 1761, by one Captain Robert Smith, who had
-fought at Minden under Lord George Sackville, of
-disastrous notoriety, and who lived for some time at
-Knole, a parasite upon the house; they apparently
-purport to be the remains of some vast house, in
-defiance of the fact that no upper storey or roof of proportionate
-dimensions could ever possibly have rested
-upon the flimsy structure of flint and rubble which
-constitute the ruins. They, together with the Bird
-House, form an amusing group of the whims and
-vanities of two different ages. But, to go back to the
-park, I conclude with the following letter, which is
-among the papers at Knole:</p>
-<div id='i_026' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_026fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>A GATEWAY INTO THE GARDEN</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span><em>To his Grace the</em> <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> of <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>My Lord,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>I Elizabeth Hills sister and executor of Mrs. Anne
-Hills deceased of Under River in the Parish of Seal and
-whose corpse is to be interred in the Parish Church of Seal:
-but the High Road leading thereto by Godden Green being
-very bad and unsafe for carriages: I beg leave of yr Grace
-to permit the proper attendants to pass with the corpse, in a
-hearse with the coaches in attendance through Knole Park:
-entering the same at Faulke [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>] Common Gate and going
-out at the gate at Lock’s Bottom: and you’ll oblige</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Your Grace’s most obedient serv<sup>t</sup></div>
- <div class='line in24'><span class='fss'>ELIZA HILLS</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>UNDER RIVER</span>,</div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>18 Oct., 1781</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>So much, then, for the setting; but it is no mere
-empty scene. The house, with its exits and entrances,
-its properties of furniture and necessities, its dressing-tables,
-its warming-pans, and its tiny silver eye-bath still
-standing between the hair-brushes—the house demands
-its population. Whose were the hands that have, by the
-constant light running of their fingers, polished the paint
-from the banisters? Whose were the feet that have worn
-down the flags of the hall and the stone passages? What
-child rode upon the ungainly rocking-horse? What
-young men exercised their muscles on the ropes of the
-great dumb-bell? Who were the men and women that,
-after a day’s riding or stitching, lay awake in the deep
-beds, idly watching between the curtains the play of the
-firelight, and the little round yellow discs cast upon walls
-and ceiling through the perforations of the tin canisters
-standing on the floor, containing the rush-lights?</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Thus the house wakes into a whispering life, and we
-resurrect the Sackvilles.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III<br /> Knole in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth<br /> THOMAS SACKVILLE<br /> <span class='large'>1st<br /> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c015'>Such interest as the Sackvilles have lies, I think,
-in their being so representative. From generation
-to generation they might stand, fully
-equipped, as portraits from English history. Unless
-they are to be considered in this light they lose their
-purport; they merely share, as Byron wrote to one of
-their number:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>... <em>with titled crowds the common lot,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>In life just gazed at, in the grave forgot&nbsp;...</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The mouldering ’scutcheon, or the herald’s roll,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>That well-emblazoned but neglected scroll,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Where lords, unhonoured, in the tomb may find</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>One spot, to leave a worthless name behind:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>There sleep, unnoticed as the gloomy vaults</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>That veil their dust, their follies, and their faults:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>A race with old armorial lists o’erspread</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>In records destined never to be read</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>But let them stand each as the prototype of his age,
-and at the same time as a link to carry on, not only the
-tradition but also the heredity of his race, and they
-immediately acquire a significance, a unity. You have
-first the grave Elizabethan, with the long, rather
-melancholy face, emerging from the oval frame above
-the black clothes and the white wand of office; you
-perceive all his severe integrity; you understand the
-intimidating austerity of the contribution he made to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>English letters. Undoubtedly a fine old man. You
-come down to his grandson: he is the Cavalier by
-Vandyck hanging in the hall, hand on hip, his flame-coloured
-doublet slashed across by the blue of the
-Garter; this is the man who raised a troop of horse off
-his own estates and vowed never to cross the threshold
-of his house into an England governed by the murderers
-of the King. You have next the florid, magnificent
-Charles, the fruit of the Restoration, poet, and
-patron of poets, prodigal, jovial, and licentious; you have
-him full-length, by Sir Godfrey Kneller, in his Garter
-robes and his enormous wig, his foot and fine calf well
-thrust forward; you have him less pompous and more
-intimate, wrapped in a dressing-gown of figured silk, the
-wig replaced by an Hogarthian turban; but it is still the
-same coarse face, with the heavy jowl and the twinkling
-eyes, the crony of Rochester and Sedley, the patron and
-host of Pope and Dryden, Prior and Killigrew. You come
-down to the eighteenth century. You have on Gainsborough’s
-canvas the beautiful, sensitive face of the gay
-and fickle duke, spoilt, feared, and propitiated by
-the women of London and Paris, the reputed lover
-of Marie Antoinette. You have his son, too fair and
-pretty a boy, the friend of Byron, killed in the hunting-field
-at the age of twenty-one, the last direct male
-of a race too prodigal, too amorous, too weak, too
-indolent, and too melancholy.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>The Sackvilles are supposed to have gone into
-Normandy in the ninth century with Rollo the Dane,
-and to have settled in the neighbourhood of Dieppe,
-in a small town called Salcavilla, from which, obviously,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>they derived their name. Much as I relish the suggestion
-of this Norse origin, I am bound to add that
-the first of whom there is any authentic record is
-Herbrand de Sackville, contemporary with William
-the Conqueror, whom he accompanied to England.
-Descending from him is a long monotonous list of Sir
-Jordans, Sir Andrews, Sir Edwards, Sir Richards,
-carrying us through the Crusades, the French wars,
-and the wars of the Roses, but none of whom has the
-slightest interest until we get to Sir Richard Sackville,
-temp. Henry VIII-Elizabeth—from his wealth called
-Sackfill or Fillsack, though not, it appears, “either
-griping or penurious,” a man of some note, and thus
-qualified by Roger Ascham: “That worthy gentleman,
-that earnest favourer and furtherer of God’s true
-religion; that faithful servitor to his prince and
-country; a lover of learning and all learned men;
-wise in all doings; courteous to all persons, showing
-spite to none, doing good to many; and, as I well found,
-to me so fast a friend as I never lost the like before”;
-and in this same connection I may quote further from
-Ascham’s preface to <em>The Scholemaster</em>, in which he
-records a conversation which took place in 1593
-between himself and Sir Richard Sackville, when
-dining with Sir William Cecil: Sir Richard, after
-complaining of his own education by a bad schoolmaster,
-said, “But seeing it is but in vain to lament
-things past, and also wisdom to look to things to come,
-surely, God willing (if God lend me life), I will make
-this my mishap some occasion of good hap to little
-Robert Sackville, my son’s son; for whose bringing
-up I would gladly, if so please you, use specially your
-good advice.”... “I wish also,” says Ascham, “with
-all my heart, that young Mr. Robert Sackville may
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>take that fruit of this labour that his worthy grandfather
-purposed he should have done. And if any other
-do take profit or pleasure hereby, they have cause to
-thank Mr. Robert Sackville, for whom specially this
-my Scholemaster was provided.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>This Sir Richard was the founder of the family
-fortune, which was to be increased by his son and
-squandered after that by nearly all his descendants in
-succession. It was he who bought, in 1564, for the sum
-of £641 5<em>s.</em> 10½<em>d.</em>, “the whole of the land lying
-between Bridewell and Water Lane from Fleet Street
-to the Thames.” This property, now of course of
-almost fabulous value, included the house then known
-as Salisbury House, having belonged to the see of
-Salisbury, which presently became Dorset House in
-1603, and presently again was divided into Great
-Dorset House and Little Dorset House, as the London
-house of the Sackvilles. A wall enclosed house and
-gardens from the existing line of Salisbury Court
-south to the river, and shops and tenements in and near
-Fleet Street from St. Bride’s to Water Lane (Whitefriars
-Street). These were not the only London possessions
-of the Sackvilles. Later on they overflowed into the
-Strand, and another Dorset House sprang up, on the
-site of the present Treasury in Whitehall, to take the place
-of the older house in Salisbury Court, which had been
-destroyed in the Great Fire. It is idle and exasperating
-to speculate on the modern value of these City estates.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Sir Richard Sackville died in 1566, when his son
-Thomas was already thirty years of age. Very little is
-known about Thomas’ early life; we only know that
-he went for a short time to Oxford (Hertford), and
-subsequently to the Inner Temple. While at Oxford
-he attracted some attention as a poet and writer of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>sonnets, but I have only been able to find one of these
-early sonnets, written for Hoby’s translation of the
-<em>Courtier of Count Baldessar Castilio</em> (published in
-1561), and which I quote, not so much for its worth as
-for its interest as a little-known work from the pen of
-one who, as the author of our earliest tragedy, has a
-certain renown:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>These royal Kings, that rear up to the sky</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Their palace tops, and deck them all with gold:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With rare and curious works they feed the eye,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And show what riches here great princes hold.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>A rarer work, and richer far in worth,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Castilio’s hand presenteth here to thee:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>No proud nor golden court doth he set forth</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>But what in court a courtier ought to be.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The prince he raiseth huge and mighty walls,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Castilio frames a wight of noble fame:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The King with gorgeous tissue clads his halls,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The court with golden virtue decks the same</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Whose passing skill, lo, Hoby’s pen displays</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>To Britain folk a work of worthy praise.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>But for the rest concerning these early poems one must
-take his contemporary Jasper Heywood’s eulogy on trust:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>There Sackville’s sonnets sweetly sauced</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And featly finèd be.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div id='i_032' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_032fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>A CONFERENCE OF ENGLISH AND SPANISH PLENIPOTENTIARIES AT SOMERSET HOUSE IN 1604<br /><br /><em>From the painting by</em> <span class='sc'>Marc Gheerhardts</span> <em>at the National Portrait Gallery</em><br /><br />At the top right-hand corner, nearest the window, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, K.G., Lord High Treasurer of England</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>It seems that Sackville’s works were all written in the
-first half of his life, and that later on, as honours came
-to him, he altogether abandoned what might have
-been a first-rate literary career for a second-rate
-political one—more’s the pity. “A born poet,” says
-Mr. Gosse, “diverted from poetry by the pursuits
-of statesmanship.” He is a very good instance of
-the disadvantage of fine birth to a poet. But for the
-fact that he was born the Queen’s cousin, through the
-Boleyns, and the son of a father holding various distinguished
-offices, he might never have entered a
-political arena where he was destined to have as competitors
-such statesmen as Burleigh, and such favourites
-as Leicester and Essex. Amongst his contemporary
-poets, Surrey and Wyatt both died while Sackville was
-still a child; when Spenser was born, Sackville was
-already sixteen; when Sidney was born, he was
-eighteen; when Shakespeare was born, he was a full-grown
-man of twenty-eight. He had thus the good
-fortune to be born at a time when English poets of
-much standing were rare, an opportunity of which he
-might have taken greater advantage had not the
-accident of his birth persuaded him to abandon poetry
-for more serious things as the dilettantism of his youth.
-For he was comparatively young when he wrote both
-<cite>Gorboduc</cite> and the <cite>Induction</cite> to the <cite>Mirror for Magistrates</cite>.
-<cite>Gorboduc</cite> was first performed by the gentlemen
-of the Inner Temple before the Queen in 1561, when
-Sackville was twenty-five, and the <cite>Induction</cite> was first
-published in 1563, when he was twenty-seven; but
-already in or about 1557, when he was only just over
-twenty, he had composed the plan for the whole of the
-<cite>Mirror for Magistrates</cite>, intending to write it himself,
-although subsequently from want of leisure he left the
-composition of all but the induction or introduction,
-and the <cite>Complaint of Henry, Duke of Buckingham</cite>, to
-others.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>By the age of twenty-one, however, responsibilities
-were already upon him. He was married; and he was
-a member of Parliament, not merely once but twice
-over, as appears from the journals of the House of
-Commons: “For that Thomas Sackville, Esq., is
-returned for the County of Westmoreland, and also for
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>the Borough of East Grinstead in Sussex, and doth
-personally appear for Westmoreland, it is required by
-this House that another person be returned for the said
-borough.” How this double election can have come
-about I cannot explain. It seems to have done him no
-harm in his parliamentary career; not only was he
-returned member for Aylesbury in 1563, but he took
-an active part in introducing bills, etc. About this time
-he went to travel in France and Italy, where for some
-mysterious reason he got himself thrown into prison;
-the reason was probably pecuniary, for we are told that
-he was “of the height of spirit inherent in his house,”
-and lived too magnificently for his means; so I think
-the assumption is in favour of his having got temporarily
-into debt. If, indeed, he shared in any measure
-the tastes of his descendants, nothing is more likely.
-Back in England again, the successes of his career
-rushed upon him. His father was just dead; he was
-the head of his family; he inherited its wealth and
-estates; he was at the propitious age of thirty; he was
-related to the Queen; he was marked out to prosper.
-Within the next thirty years or so he was, successively,
-knighted and created Lord Buckhurst of Buckhurst,
-in the county of Sussex; given the house and lands
-of Knole by the Queen, that she might have him near
-her court and councils; sent to France and the
-Netherlands as special ambassador from Elizabeth;
-made a Knight of the Garter; Chancellor of Oxford,
-where he sumptuously entertained the Queen; made
-Lord High Treasurer of England in 1599; High
-Steward of England at the trial of Essex, where he sat
-in state under a canopy and pronounced sentence and
-an exhortation, says Bacon, “with gravity and
-solemnity.” By this time, I imagine, he had in very
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>truth become the grave and solemn personage one sees
-in all his portraits—not that his mind, even in early
-youth, can have been otherwise than grave and solemn
-if at the age of twenty he had been capable of imagining
-a vast poem on so dreary and Dantesque a plan as the
-<cite>Mirror for Magistrates</cite>, devised, says Morley in his
-<cite>English Literature</cite>, “to moralise those incidents of
-English history which warn the powerful of the unsteadiness
-of fortune by showing them, as in a mirror,
-that ‘who reckless rules, right soon may hap to rue.’”
-Also, from a letter written by Lord Buckhurst to
-Lord Walsingham, it is clear that he had no sympathy
-with ostentation, but only with honest worth: “And,
-Sir, I beseech you send over as few Court captains as
-may be; but that they may rather be furnished with
-captains here [in the Low Countries], such as by their
-worthiness and long service do merit it, and do further
-seek to shine in the field with virtue and valiance
-against the enemy than with gold lace and gay garments
-in Court at home.” In 1586 Lord Buckhurst
-was one of the forty appointed on the commission for
-the trial of Mary Stuart, and although his name is not
-amongst those who proceeded to Fotheringay, nor
-later in the Star Chamber at Westminster when she
-was condemned to death, yet he was sent to announce
-the sentence to death, and received from her in recognition
-of his tact and gentleness in conveying this news
-the triptych and carved group of the Procession to
-Calvary now on the altar in the chapel at Knole.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>He was, in fact, absent from none of the councils of
-the nation, and I have no doubt that he discharged his
-duties with all seriousness and honesty. Poetry—a
-frivolous pursuit—had long since been left behind.
-The poet had become the statesman. Nevertheless
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>there were times when his very integrity was the
-cause of bringing him into disfavour with the intolerant
-mistress he served, notably on one occasion when he
-refused to take the part of Leicester and was indignantly
-confined to his house for nine or ten months by
-Royal mandate. And there was another occasion,
-amusing as showing the extreme simplicity in which
-even a man like Lord Buckhurst, who had the reputation
-of lavish living in his own day, conducted his daily
-life. Buckhurst, then being at the royal palace of
-Shene, was desired by the Queen to entertain Odet de
-Coligny, Cardinal of Chatillon, and did so, but with
-the result made clear in the following letter, of which
-I give extracts:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>To the Right Honourable the Lords of her Majesty’s Privy
-Council be this delivered.</em></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>My duty to your Lordships most humbly remembered.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Returning yesterday to Shene, I received as from your
-Lordships how her highness stood greatly displeased with
-me, for that I had not in better sort entertained the Cardinal.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>He goes on to speak of his “great grief” and his
-“sorrowful heart,” especially, he says, “being to her
-Majesty as I am,” and proceeds with the attempt to
-justify himself for his supposed niggardliness:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>I brought them in to every part of the house that I
-possessed, and showed them all such stuff and furniture as
-I had. And where they required plate of me, I told them as
-troth is, that I had no plate at all. Such glass vessel as I had
-I offered them, which they thought too base; for napery
-I could not satisfy their turn, for they desired damask work
-for a long table, and I had none other but plain linen for a
-square table. The table whereon I dine myself I offered
-them, and for that it was a square table they refused it.
-One only tester and bedstead not occupied I had, and those
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>I delivered for the Cardinal himself, and when we could not
-by any means in so short a time procure another bedstead
-for the bishop, I assigned them the bedstead on which my
-wife’s waiting women did lie, and laid them on the ground.
-Mine own basin and ewer I lent to the Cardinal and wanted
-myself. So did I the candlesticks for mine own table, with
-divers drinking glasses, small cushions, small pots for the
-kitchen, and sundry other such like trifles, although indeed
-I had no greater store of them than I presently occupied;
-and albeit this be not worthy the writing, yet mistrusting
-lest the misorder of some others in denying of such like kind
-of stuff not occupied by themselves, have been percase
-informed as towards me, I have thought good not to omit it.
-Long tables, forms, brass for the kitchen, and all such
-necessaries as could not be furnished by me, we took order
-to provide in the town; hangings and beds we received
-from the yeoman of the wardrobe at Richmond, and when
-we saw that napery and sheets could nowhere here be had,
-I sent word thereof to the officers at the Court, by which
-means we received from my lord of Leicester 2 pair of fine
-sheets for the Cardinal, and from my lord Chamberlain one
-pair of fine for the bishop, with 2 other coarser pair, and
-order beside for 10 pair more from London.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>At which time also because I would be sure your Lordships
-should be ascertained of the simpleness and scarcity
-of such stuff as I had here, I sent a man of mine to the Court,
-specially to declare to your Lordships that for plate, damask,
-napery and fine sheets, I had none at all and for the rest
-of my stuff neither was it such as with honour might furnish
-such a personage, nor yet had I any greater store thereof than
-I presently occupied, and he brought me this answer again
-from your Lordships that if I had it not I could not lend it.
-And yet all things being thus provided for, and the diet for
-his Lordship being also prepared, I sent word thereof to
-Mr. Kingesmele and thereupon the next day in the morning
-about nine of the clock the Cardinal came to Shene where I
-met and received him almost a quarter of a mile from the
-house, and when I had first brought the Cardinal to his
-lodging, and after the bishop to his, I thought good there to
-leave them to their repose. Thus having accommodated his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>Lordship as well as might be with so short a warning, I
-thought myself to have fully performed the meaning of your
-Lordships’ letters unto me, and because I had tidings the
-day before that a house of mine in the country by sudden
-chance was burned&nbsp;... I took horse and rode the same
-night towards those places, where I found so much of my
-house burned as 200 marks will not repair....</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>This is not at all in accordance with his reputation
-for hospitality:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He kept house for forty and two years in an honourable
-proportion. For thirty years of these his family consisted of
-little less, in one place or another, than two hundred persons.
-But for more than twenty years, besides workmen and other
-hired, his number at the least hath been two hundred and
-twenty daily, as appeared upon check-role. A very rare
-example in this present age of ours, when housekeeping is
-so decayed.</p>
-
-<p class='c025'>I think that this reputation, and the enormous sums
-which he spent upon the enlargement and beautifying
-of Knole, make all the more remarkable the statements
-in the foregoing letter: that he had neither napery,
-plate, nor sheets, and that in order to provide his guest
-with a basin and ewer he was obliged to do without them
-himself. It is apparent also from his will that he
-indulged himself in the luxury of various musicians,
-“some for the voice and some for the instrument,
-whom I have found to be honest in their behaviour
-and skilful in their profession, and who had often given
-me after the labour and painful travels of the day
-much recreation and contatation with their delightful
-harmony.” “Musicians,” it was said, “the most
-curious he could have,” so that in these extravagances
-he was not parsimonious, although he disregarded the
-common comforts of life.</p>
-<div id='i_038' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_038fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>LEAD PIPE-HEADS<br /><br /><em>Put up by</em> <span class='sc'>Thomas Sackville</span> <em>in 1605</em><br /><br />Figs. 1 to 4, Stone Court. Fig. 5, Over King’s Bedroom Window. Figs. 6 and 7, South Front. Fig. 8, Stone Court. Fig. 9, Water Court.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>In June 1566 Queen Elizabeth had presented him
-with Knole, but, because the house was then both let
-and sub-let, it was not until 1603 that he was able
-to take possession. Tradition says that the Queen
-bestowed Knole upon him because she wished to have
-him nearer to her court and councils, and to spare him
-the constant journey between London and Buckhurst,
-over the rough, clay-sodden roads of the Weald, at
-that date still an uncultivated and almost uninhabited
-district, where droves of wild swine rootled for acorns
-under the oaks. He does not appear to have spent
-very much time at Knole during the first years of his
-ownership, for in a letter written in September 1605,
-to Lord Salisbury, he says: “I go now to Horsley, and
-thence to Knole, where I was not but once in the first
-beginnings all the year, whence for three or four days
-to Buckhurst, where I was not these seven years.”
-This did not prevent him from spending a great deal
-of money on the house; unfortunately there is no
-record of what he spent between 1603 and 1607, but
-for the last ten months of his life alone there is a total,
-spent on buildings, material, and stock, for four
-thousand one hundred and seven pounds, eleven
-shillings, and ninepence—an equivalent, in round
-figures, to forty thousand of modern money. To
-account for these sums, it is known that he built the
-Great Staircase, transformed the Great Hall to its
-present state, and put in the plaster-work ceilings and
-marble chimney-pieces. He also put up the very
-lovely lead water-spouts in the courtyards.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The good fortune of Lord Buckhurst did not come
-to an end with the death of Queen Elizabeth. He was
-one of those who travelled to meet the new King on
-his journey down from the North, was confirmed by him
-in his tenure of the office of Lord Treasurer, and early in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>the following year was created Earl of Dorset. The
-illuminated patents of creation are at Knole, showing
-portraits of both Elizabeth and James I, not very flattering
-to either; and the Lord Treasurer’s chest is at
-Knole likewise, a huge coffer covered in leather and
-thickly studded with large round-headed brass nails.
-There is a warrant, signed by him as Lord Treasurer,
-for increasing the duty on tobacco, “That tobacco,
-being a drug brought into England of late years in
-small quantities, was used and taken by the better sort
-only as physic to preserve health; but through evil
-custom and the toleration thereof that riotous and
-disorderly persons spent most of their time in that idle
-vanity.” This warrant, which is dated 1605, shows how
-little time had elapsed since its introduction before
-tobacco established its popularity.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>He was now advancing in years, and his own letters
-prove that his health was not very good. In one letter,
-written to Cecil, he complains that he cannot rest more
-than two or three hours in the night at most, also that
-he is constantly subject to rheums and cold and coughs,
-forced to defend himself with warmth, and to fly the
-air in cold or moist weathers. In another letter, also
-written to Cecil, he again complains of a cough, and
-says that he cannot come abroad for three or four days
-at least. But his devotion to his public affairs was
-greater than his attention to his health, for he says,
-“I have by the space of this month and more foreborne
-to take physic by reason of her Majesty’s business, and
-now having this only week left for physic I am resolved
-to prevent sickness, feeling myself altogether distempered
-and filled with humours, so as if her Majesty
-should miss me I beseech you in respect hereof to
-excuse me.” In 1607, when the old man was seventy-one,
-there was a report current in London that he was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>dead, but on the King sending him a diamond, and
-wishing that he might live so long as that ring would
-continue, “My Lord Treasurer,” says a letter dated
-June 1607, “revived again.” In the following year,
-however, he died dramatically in harness, of apoplexy
-while sitting at the Council table in Whitehall. His
-funeral service took place in Westminster Abbey, but
-his body was taken to Withyham, where it now lies
-buried in the vault of his ancestors.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>I have dealt as briefly as possible with the Lord
-Treasurer’s life, because no one could pretend that the
-history of his embassies or his occupations of office
-could have any interest save to a student of the age of
-Elizabeth. But as a too-much-neglected poet I should
-like presently to quote the opinions of those well
-qualified to judge, showing that he was, at least, something
-of a pioneer in English literature—crude, of
-course, and uniformly gloomy; too gloomy to read,
-save as a labour of love or conscience; but nevertheless
-the author—or part-author—of the earliest
-English tragedy, and, in some passages, a poet of a
-certain sombre splendour. That he was a true poet,
-I think, is unquestionable, unlike his descendant
-Charles, who by virtue of one song in particular continues
-to survive in anthologies, but who was probably
-driven into verse by the fashion of his age rather than
-by any genuine urgency of creation.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The tragedy of <cite>Gorboduc</cite>, whose title was afterwards
-altered to <cite>Ferrex and Porrex</cite>, was written in collaboration
-with Thomas Norton, although the exact
-share of each author is not precisely known and has
-been much argued.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>To the modern reader [says Professor Saintsbury]
-<cite>Gorboduc</cite> is scarcely inviting, but that is not a condition of
-its attractiveness to its own contemporaries. [It] is of the
-most painful regularity; and the scrupulosity with which
-each of the rival princes is provided with a counsellor and a
-parasite to himself, and the other parts are allotted with
-similar fairness, reaches such a point that it is rather surprising
-that <cite>Gorboduc</cite> was not provided with two queens—a
-good and a bad. But even these faults are perhaps less trying
-to the modern reader than the inchoate and unpolished condition
-of the metre in the choruses, and indeed in the blank
-verse dialogue. Here and there there are signs of the stateliness
-and poetical imagery of the <cite>Induction</cite>, but for the most
-part the decasyllables stop dead at their close and begin
-afresh at their beginning with a staccato movement and a
-dull monotony of cadence which is inexpressibly tedious.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Professor Saintsbury rightly points out that the dullness
-of <cite>Gorboduc</cite> to our ideas is not a criterion of the
-effect it produced on readers of its own day. Sir Philip
-Sidney, for example, while excepting it from the
-particular charges he brings against all other English
-tragedies and comedies, and granting that “it is full
-of stately speeches and well-sounding phrases, climbing
-to the height of Seneca his style, and as full of notable
-morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and so
-obtain the very end of poesy,” finds fault with it in an
-unexpected quarter, namely, that it fails in two unities,
-of time and place, so that the modern criticism of its
-“painful regularity” was far from occurring to a mind
-intent upon a yet more rigorous form.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In spite of its manifest imperfections [says the Cambridge
-Modern History], the tragedy of <cite>Gorboduc</cite> has two supreme
-claims to honourable commemoration. It introduced
-Englishmen who knew no language but their own to an
-artistic conception of tragedy, and it revealed to them the
-true mode of tragic expression.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>I might also quote here the sonnet of a greater poet,
-who owed much, if not to <cite>Gorboduc</cite>, at least to the
-<cite>Induction</cite>—Edmund Spenser.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>In vain I think, right honourable lord,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>By this rude rhyme to memorize thy name,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Whose learnèd muse hath writ her own record</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>In golden verse worthy immortal fame.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Thou much more fit (were leisure to the same)</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Thy gracious sovereign’s praises to compile,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And her imperial majesty to frame</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>In lofty numbers and heroic style.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But sith thou may’st not so, give leave awhile</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To baser wit his power therein to spend,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Whose gross defaults thy dainty pen may file,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And unadvisèd oversights amend.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But evermore vouchsafe it to maintain</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Against vile Zoylus’ backbitings vain.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is also a sonnet by Joshua Sylvester, of which
-I will only quote the anagram prefixed to it:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Sackvilus <span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Comes Dorsetius</span></div>
- <div class='line'><i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Vas Lucis</span></i> <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Esto decor Musis</span></i></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in8'><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sacris Musis celo devotus</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>But although there can scarcely be two opinions
-about <cite>Gorboduc</cite>—that it is sometimes noble, and always
-dull—Sackville’s two other poems, the <cite>Induction</cite> to the
-<cite>Mirror for Magistrates</cite> and the <cite>Complaint of Henry
-Duke of Buckingham</cite>, have never met with the recognition
-they deserve, save for the discriminating applause
-of men of letters. I do not say that they are
-works which can be read through with an unvarying
-degree of pleasure; there are stagnant passages which
-have to be waded through in between the more
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>admirable portions. But such portions, when they are
-reached, do contain much of the genuine stuff of
-poetry, impressive imagery, a surprising absence of
-cumbersome expression—especially when the reader
-bears in mind that Sackville was writing before Spenser,
-and long before Marlowe—and a diction which is consistently
-dignified and suitable to the gravity of the
-theme. Take these stanzas for instance:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>And first within the porch and jaws of hell</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Sat deep</em> Remorse of Conscience, <em>all besprent</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With tears; and to herself oft would she tell</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Her wretchedness, and cursing never stent</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To sob and sigh; but ever thus lament,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>With thoughtful care, as she that, all in vain,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Would wear and waste continually in pain</em>.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Next saw we</em> Dread, <em>all trembling: how he shook</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With foot uncertain, proffered here and there,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Benumbed of speech, and, with a ghastly look,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Searched every place, all pale and dead for fear,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>His cap borne up with staring of his hair,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>’Stoin’d and amazed at his own shade for dread</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And fearing greater dangers than he need</em>.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>And next, in order sad</em>, Old Age <em>we found,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>As on the place where Nature him assigned</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To rest, when that the sisters had untwined</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>His vital thread, and ended with their knife</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The fleeting course of fast-declining life</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>These stanzas are from the <cite>Induction</cite>. Or take
-the following from the <cite>Complaint of the Duke of
-Buckingham</cite>:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Midnight was come, and every vital thing</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With sweet sound sleep their weary limbs did rest;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>The beasts were still, the little birds that sing</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Now sweetly slept beside their mother’s breast,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The old and all well shrouded in their nest;</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The waters calm, the cruel seas did cease,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The woods, the fields, and all things held their peace.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>The golden stars were whirled amid their race,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And on the earth did with their twinkling light,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>When each thing nestled in his resting place,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Forget day’s pain with pleasure of the night;</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The fearful deer of death stood not in doubt,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The partridge dreamt not of the falcon’s foot.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>These quotations will give some kind of idea of
-Sackville’s matter and manner, and of the <cite>Mirror</cite>,
-which survives among the classic monuments of
-English poetry, says Courthope, only by virtue of the
-genius of Sackville. For the rest, not wishing to be
-thought prejudiced, I should like to quote copiously
-from Professor Saintsbury’s <cite>Elizabethan Literature</cite>,
-since therein is expressed, a great deal better than I
-could express it, my own view of Sackville’s poetry,
-and by calling in the testimony of so excellent,
-scholarly, and delightful an authority I may be freed
-from the charge of partiality which I should not at all
-like to incur.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The next remarkable piece of work done in English
-poetry after Tottel’s <cite>Miscellany</cite>—a piece of work of greater
-actual poetic merit than anything in the <cite>Miscellany</cite> itself—was&nbsp;... the famous <cite>Mirror for Magistrates</cite>, or rather that
-part of it contributed by Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst....
-The <cite>Induction</cite> and the <cite>Complaint of Buckingham</cite>,
-which Sackville furnished to it in 1559, though they were
-not published till four years later, completely outweigh all
-the rest in value. His contributions to the <cite>Mirror for Magistrates</cite>
-contain the best poetry written in the English language
-between Chaucer and Spenser, and are most certainly the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>originals or at least the models of some of Spenser’s finest
-work. He has had but faint praise of late years.... I have
-little hesitation in saying that no more astonishing contribution
-to English poetry, when the due reservations of
-that historical criticism which is the life of all criticism are
-made, is to be found anywhere. The bulk is not great:
-twelve or fifteen hundred lines must cover the whole of it.
-The form is not new, being merely the 7–line stanza already
-familiar in Chaucer. The arrangement is in no way novel,
-combining as it does the allegorical presentment of embodied
-virtues, vices, and qualities with the melancholy narrative
-common in poets for many years before. But the poetical
-value of the whole is extraordinary. The two constituents of
-that value, the formal and the material, are represented here
-with a singular equality of development. There is nothing
-here of Wyatt’s floundering prosody, nothing of the well-intentioned
-doggerel in which Surrey himself indulges and
-in which his pupils simply revel. The cadences of the verse
-perfect, the imagery fresh and sharp, the presentation of
-nature singularly original, when it is compared with the
-battered copies of the poets with whom Sackville must have
-been most familiar, the followers of Chaucer from Occleeve
-to Hawes. Even the general plan of the poem—the weakest
-part of nearly all poems of this time—is extraordinarily
-effective and makes one sincerely sorry that Sackville’s taste
-or his other occupations did not permit him to carry out the
-whole scheme on his own account. The <cite>Induction</cite>, in which
-the author is brought face to face with Sorrow, and the
-central passages of the <cite>Complaint of Buckingham</cite>, have a
-depth and fullness of poetical sound and sense for which we
-must look backwards a hundred and fifty years, or forwards
-nearly five and twenty....</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He has not indeed the manifold music of Spenser—it
-would be unreasonable to expect that he should have it.
-But his stanzas are of remarkable melody, and they have
-about them a command, a completeness of accomplishment
-within the writer’s intentions, which is very noteworthy in
-so young a man. The extraordinary richness and stateliness
-of the measure has escaped no critic. There is indeed a
-certain one-sidedness about it, and a devil’s advocate might
-urge that a long poem couched in verse (let alone the subject)
-of such unbroken gloom would be intolerable. But
-Sackville did not write a long poem, and his complete command
-within his limits of the effect at which he evidently
-aimed is most remarkable.</p>
-<div id='i_046' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_046fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE GREAT STAIRCASE (UPPER FLIGHT)<br /><br /><em>Built by</em> <span class='sc'>Thomas Sackville</span>, <em>1604–8</em></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>The second thing to note about the poem is the extraordinary
-freshness and truth of its imagery. From a young
-poet we always expect second-hand presentations of nature,
-and in Sackville’s day second-hand presentation of nature
-had been elevated to the rank of a science.... It is perfectly
-clear that Thomas Sackville had, in the first place, a
-poetical eye to see, within as well as without, the objects of
-poetical presentment; in the second place, a poetical
-vocabulary in which to clothe the results of his seeing; and
-in the third place, a poetical ear by aid of which to arrange
-his language in the musical co-ordination necessary to poetry.
-Wyatt had been notoriously wanting in the last; Surrey had
-not been very obviously furnished with the first; and all
-three were not to be possessed by anyone else till Edmund
-Spenser arose to put Sackville’s lessons in practice on a wider
-scale and with a less monotonous lyre. It is possible that
-Sackville’s claims in drama may have been exaggerated—they
-have of late years rather been undervalued; but his
-claims in poetry proper can only be overlooked by those who
-decline to consider the most important part of poetry. In
-the subject of even his part of the <cite>Mirror</cite> there is nothing
-new; there is only a following of Chaucer, and Gower, and
-Occleeve, and Lydgate, and Hawes, and many others. But
-in the handling there is one novelty which makes all others
-of no effect or interest: it is the novelty of a new poetry.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV<br /> Knole in the Reign of James I<br /> RICHARD SACKVILLE<br /> <span class='large'>3rd<br /> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset<br /> <em>and</em></span><br /> LADY ANNE CLIFFORD</h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c015'>It so happens that a remarkably complete record
-has been left of existence at Knole in the early
-seventeenth century—an existence compounded of
-extreme prodigality of living, tedium, and perpetual
-domestic quarrels. We have a private diary, in which
-every squabble and reconciliation between Lord and
-Lady Dorset is chronicled; every gown she wore;
-every wager he won or lost (and he made many);
-every book she read; every game she played at Knole
-with the steward or with the neighbours; every time
-she wept; every day she “sat still, thinking the time
-to be very tedious.” We have even a complete list of
-the servants and their functions, from Mr. Matthew
-Caldicott, my Lord’s favourite, down to John
-Morockoe, a Blackamoor. It would, out of this
-quantity of information, be possible to reconstruct a
-play of singular accuracy.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The author of the diary was a lady of some fame and
-a great deal of character: Lady Anne Clifford, the
-daughter and sole heiress of George, Earl of Cumberland,
-and wife to Richard, Earl of Dorset. Cumberland
-was himself a picturesque figure. He was Elizabeth’s
-official champion at all jousts and tilting, a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>nobleman of great splendour, and in addition to this
-display of truly Elizabethan glitter and parade he had
-the other facet of Elizabethan <i><span lang="it" xml:lang="it">virtù</span></i>: the love of
-adventure, which carried him eleven times to sea, to
-the Indies and elsewhere, “for the service of Queen
-Elizabeth,” says his daughter in the life she wrote of
-him, “for the good of England, and of his own
-person.” She gives an account of her own appearance:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>I was very happy in my first constitution both in mind
-and body, both for internal and external endowments, for
-never was there child more equally resembling both father
-and mother than myself. The colour of mine eyes were
-black, like my father, and the form and aspect of them was
-quick and lively, like my mother’s; the hair of my head was
-brown and very thick, and so long that it reached to the calf
-of my legs when I stood upright, with a peak of hair on my
-forehead and a dimple in my chin like my father, full
-cheeks and round face like my mother, and an exquisite
-shape of body resembling my father.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>After this description, more remarkable for exactness
-perhaps than for modesty, she adds:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>But now time and age hath long since ended all these
-beauties, which are to be compared to the grass of the field
-(<cite>Isaiah</cite> xl., 6, 7, 8; <cite>1 Peter</cite> i., 24). For now when I caused
-these memorables of my self to be written I have passed the
-63rd year of my age.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Having put this in by way of a saving clause, she proceeds
-again complacently:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>And though I say it, the perfections of my mind were
-much above those of my body; I had a strong and copious
-memory, a sound judgement, and a discerning spirit, and so
-much of a strong imagination in me as that many times even
-my dreams and apprehensions beforehand proved to be
-true; so as old Mr. John Denham, a great astronomer, that
-sometime lived in my father’s house, would often say that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>I had much in me in nature to show that the sweet influences
-of the Pleiades and the bands of Orion were powerful both
-at my conception and my nativity.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>She was innocent of unnecessary diffidence. Yet she
-was not without gratitude:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>I must not forget to acknowledge that in my infancy and
-youth, and a great part of my life, I have escaped many
-dangers, both by fire and water, by passage in coaches and
-falls from horses, by burning fevers, and excessive extremity
-of bleeding many times to the great hazard of my life, all
-which, and many cunning and wicked devices of my enemies,
-I have escaped and passed through miraculously, and much
-the better by the help and prayers of my devout mother,
-who incessantly begged of God for my safety and preservation
-(<em>Jas.</em> v., 16).</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>To her mother she seems to have been excessively
-devoted; and indeed, in the midst of this stubborn
-and peremptory character, the most vulnerable spot is
-her tenderness for her relations; those of her relations,
-that is to say, with whom she was not at mortal enmity.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The death of Queen Elizabeth, which occurred
-when Anne Clifford was a girl of thirteen, was a disappointment
-to her in more ways than one, for “if
-Queen Elizabeth had lived she intended to prefer me
-to be of the Privy Chamber, for at that time there was
-as much hope and expectation of me as of any other
-young lady whatsoever,” and moreover “my Mother
-and Aunt of Warwick being mourners, I was not
-allowed to be one, because I was not high enough,
-which did much trouble me then.” She was not even
-allowed the privilege of watching by the great Queen’s
-body after it had come “by night in a Barge from
-Richmond to Whitehall, my Mother and a great Company
-of Ladies attending it, where it continued a great
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>while standing in the Drawing Chamber, where it was
-watched all night by several Lords and Ladies, my
-Mother sitting up with it two or three nights, but my
-Lady would not give me leave to watch, by reason
-I was held too young.” It is to be regretted that the
-writer, who possessed so vivid and unself-conscious a
-pen, should have been thus defrauded of setting upon
-record the scene in which the old Queen, stiff as an
-effigy, and blazing with the jewels of England, lay for
-the last time in state, by the light of candles, among the
-great nobles whom in her lifetime she had bullied and
-governed, and whom even in death the rigidity of that
-bejezabelled presence could still overawe.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Although she had not been allowed to see the dead
-Queen, Lady Anne was taken to see the new King, but
-did not find the court to her liking:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>We all went to Tibbalds to see the King, who used my
-Mother and Aunt very graciously, but we all saw a great
-change between the fashion of the Court as it is now and of
-that in the Queen’s time, for we were all lousy by sitting in
-the chamber of Sir Thomas Erskine.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>This unpropitious introduction was the first she had
-to James I, but it was by no means her last meeting
-with him, for she relates several later on which might
-more properly be called encounters.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>About two years after Elizabeth’s death Lord
-Cumberland died, “very patiently and willingly of a
-bloody flux,” leaving Anne Clifford his only surviving
-child and heiress, then being aged about fifteen years.
-Her father cannot have been much more than a name
-to her, for although “endowed with many perfections
-of nature befitting so noble a personage, as an
-excellent quickness of wit and apprehension, an active
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>and strong body, and an affable disposition and
-behaviour,” he “fell to love a lady of quality,” which
-created a breach between himself and his wife, and
-“when my Mother and he did meet, their countenance
-did show the dislike they had one of another, yet he
-would speak to me in a slight fashion and give me his
-blessing.... My Father used to come to us sometimes
-at Clerkenwell, but not often, for he had at this
-time as it were wholly left my Mother, yet the house
-was kept still at his charge.” All this early part of her
-life, I ought to explain, is related by her in the Lives
-of her parents and herself, which she compiled in her
-old age; and partly from a diary of reminiscences, a
-transcript of which is at Knole, and which she appears
-to have written at the same time as the more detailed
-Diary which she was then (1616–1619) keeping from
-day to day. She had a happy childhood with her
-mother, and cousins of her own age—“All this time
-we were merry at North Hall. My Coz. Frances
-Bouchier and my Coz. Francis Russell and I did use
-to walk much in the garden, and were great with one
-another. I used to wear my Hair-coloured Velvet
-every day, and learned to sing and play on the Bass-Viol
-of Jack Jenkins, my Aunt’s boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The Diary at Knole jumps without any warning or
-transition from the reminiscences of youth to 1616.
-It begins with a sad little hint of the weariness that was
-to follow: “All the time I stayed in the country I was
-sometimes merry and sometimes sad, as I had news from
-London.” She had then been married for seven years
-to Richard Sackville, third Earl of Dorset, grandson
-to Queen Elizabeth’s old Treasurer, who was himself
-anxious for the match, writing to Sir George Moore
-about “that virtuous young lady, the Lady Anne
-Clifford,” and soliciting Moore’s good offices with Lady
-Cumberland.</p>
-<div id='i_052' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_052fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>RICHARD SACKVILLE, <span class='sc'>3rd Earl of Dorset, K.G.</span><br /><br /><em>From the miniature by</em> <span class='sc'>Isaac Oliver</span> <em>in the Victoria and Albert Museum</em></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>There were, in all, five children of the marriage:
-three little boys, who all “died young at Knole where
-they were born,” and two little girls, of whom
-Margaret, born in 1614, figures largely in the Diary
-and is the only one to concern us, since Isabel was
-not born till some years after Lady Anne had ceased
-to keep the Diary. Lady Anne’s mother travelled to
-London from the North in order to be present at the
-birth of Margaret, the first child; but by a strange mischance
-the journey was rendered vain, for, having gone
-“into the Tower of London to see some friends there,
-where, the gates being shut up by an accident that
-happened, she was kept there till after her daughter
-was delivered of her first child, though she had made
-a journey purposely from Appleby Castle, in Westmoreland,
-to London.” Not only does the Diary
-contain constant references to this little girl, but Lady
-Anne’s letters to her mother, now at Appleby, are
-rarely without some comment—</p>
-
-<p class='c021'>she begins to break out very much upon her head, which
-I hope will make her very healthful [a curious theory]. She
-hath yet no teeth come out, but they are most of them
-swelled in the flesh, so that now and then they make her
-very froward. I have found your Ladyship’s words true
-about the nurse had for her, for she hath been one of the
-most unhealthfullest women that I think ever was, and so
-extremely troubled with the toothache and rheums and
-swelling in her face as could be, and one night she fell very
-ill, and was taken like an ague so as she had but little milk
-left, and so I was enforced to send for the next woman that
-was by to give my child suck, whom hath continued with
-her ever since, and I thank God the child agrees so well with
-her milk as may be, so I mean not to change her any more.
-It is a miracle to me that the child should prosper so well.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>She is but a little one, I confess, but a livelier and merrier
-thing was there never yet seen.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Dorset also was fond of the little girl, for in other
-letters to her mother Anne says, after apologising for
-her bad writing, which she terms “scribbling,” “my
-Lord is as fond of her as can be, and calls her his
-mistress”; and again, “My Lord to her is a very kind,
-loving, and dear father, and in everything will I commend
-him, saving only in this business of my land,
-wherein I think some evil spirit works, for in this he
-is as violent as possible, so I must either do it next
-term or else break friendship and love with him”; and
-Dorset was, on his side, of the same opinion, for in a
-letter written to her at Knole, which begins “Sweet
-Heart,” and sends messages to the child, he adds to his
-wife, “whom in all things I love and hold a sober
-woman, your land only excepted, which transports you
-beyond yourself, and makes you devoid of all reason.”
-It would appear that but for this unfortunate question
-of the lands and money they might have lived happily
-together, affection not lacking, and on Anne’s part at
-any rate good will not lacking either, as witness her
-constant defence of him, even to her mother:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>It is true that they have brought their matters so about
-that I am in the greatest strait that ever poor creature was,
-but whatsoever you may think of my Lord, I have found him,
-do find him, and think I shall find him, the best and most
-worthy man that ever breathed, therefore, if it be possible,
-I beseech you, have a better opinion of him, if you know all
-I do, I am sure you would believe this that I write, but I
-durst not impart my mind about when I was with you,
-because I found you so bitter against him, or else I could
-have told you so many arguments of his goodness and worth
-that you should have seen it plainly yourself.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>They were married when she was nineteen and he
-was twenty, and two days after their marriage he
-succeeded to his father’s titles and estates: “We have
-no other news here but of weddings and burials, the
-Earl of Dorset died on Monday night leaving a
-heaire [?] widow God wot, and his son seeing him past
-hope the Saturday before married the Lady Anne
-Clifford.” In spite, however, of all they had to make
-life pleasant—their youth, their wealth, and the
-privileges of their position—they spent the succeeding
-years in making it as unpleasant as they possibly could
-for one another.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>I hardly think that it is necessary or even interesting
-to go into the legal details of the long dispute over
-Lord Cumberland’s will. The interest of Anne and
-Richard Dorset is human, not litigious. It may therefore
-be sufficient to say that by the terms of his will
-Lord Cumberland bequeathed the vast Clifford estates
-in Westmoreland to his brother Sir Francis Clifford,
-with the proviso that they should revert to Anne, his
-daughter, in the event of the failure of heirs male, a
-reversion which eventually took place, thirty-eight
-years after his death. What he does not appear to have
-realized was that the estates were already entailed
-upon Lady Anne; and that he was, by his will,
-illegally breaking an entail which dated back to the
-reign of Edward II.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is easy to judge, from this broad indication, the
-infinite possibilities for litigation amongst persons contentiously
-minded. Such persons were not lacking.
-There was Lady Cumberland, Anne’s mother, bent
-upon safeguarding the rights of her daughter. There
-was Francis, the new Earl of Cumberland, equally
-bent upon preserving what had been left to him by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>will. There was Richard Dorset, whose own fortune
-was not adequate to his extravagance, and who, having
-married an heiress, was determined for his own sake
-that that heiress should not be defrauded of her
-inheritance, or that, if she was to be defrauded, he at
-least should receive ample compensation. And finally
-there was Anne herself, who was more resolved than
-any of them that she and the North of England should
-not be parted. Dorset’s part, of the four, was the most
-elaborate and the most discreditable. He would have
-been willing for his wife to renounce some of her claims
-in return for the compromise of ready cash. Anne,
-however, remained single-hearted throughout: she
-was the legal heiress of the North, and the North she
-would have; and in the midst of the otherwise sordid
-and mercenary dispute, in which Dorset used every
-means of coercion, she remains fixed in her perfectly
-definite attitude of obstinacy, unswayed by her
-husband, his relations, her own relations, their friends,
-the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the King himself,
-their remonstrances, their threats, their vindictiveness,
-and the actual injuries she had to endure over a long
-stretch of years. In the end she got the better of them
-all, and the last picture of her left by the “Lives” is
-that of a triumphant and imperious old lady, retired
-to the stronghold of her northern castles, where her
-authority could stand “against sectaries, almost against
-Parliaments and armies themselves”; refusing to go
-to court “unless she might wear blinkers”; moving
-with feudal, with almost royal, state between her many
-castles, from Appleby to Pendragon, from Pendragon
-to Brougham, from Brougham to Brough, from
-Brough to Skipton; building brew-houses, wash-houses,
-bake-houses, kitchens, stables; sending word
-to Cromwell that as fast as he should knock her castles
-about her ears she would surely put them up again;
-endowing almshouses; ruling over her almswomen
-and her tenants; receiving, like the patriarchal old
-despot that she was, the generations of her children, her
-grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren.</p>
-<div id='i_056' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_056fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>LADY ANNE CLIFFORD<br /><br /><span class='sc'>Wife to Richard Sackville, 3rd Earl of Dorset</span><br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <em>Mytens</em></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>Before she could reach these serene waters, however,
-she had many storms to weather, and to bear the
-“crosses and contradictions” which caused her to
-write “the marble pillars of Knole in Kent and Wilton
-in Wiltshire were to me oftentimes but the gay arbours
-of anguish.” Richard Sackville in his own day was a
-byword for extravagance, and was bent on extorting
-from his wife for the purposes of his own pleasure the
-utmost resources of her inheritance. His portrait is at
-Knole, a full-length by Van Somer; he has a pale,
-pointed face, dark hair growing in a peak, and small
-mean eyes, and is dressed entirely in black with
-enormous silver rosettes on his shoes. There is also the
-very beautiful miniature of him by Isaac Oliver in the
-Victoria and Albert Museum, showing the richness of
-his clothes, his embroidered stockings, and his hand
-resting upon the extravagantly-plumed helmet on the
-table beside him.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>His life is an empty record of gambling, cock-fighting,
-tilting; of balls and masques, women and fine
-clothes. “Above all they speak of the Earl of Dorset,”
-says a contemporary letter, after describing the lavishness
-of some of the costumes worn in a Court masque
-in which he was taking part, “but their extreme cost
-and riches make us all poor,” and Clarendon says of
-him, “his excess of expenditure, in all the ways to
-which money could be applied, was such that he so
-entirely consumed almost the whole great fortune
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>which descended to him, that when he was forced to
-leave the title to his younger brother he left, in a
-manner, nothing to him to support it.” The enormous
-estates which he inherited, the careful accumulation of
-the old Lord Treasurer, he sold in great part, in order
-to squander the proceeds upon his amusements; before
-he had been in possession for three years he had sold
-the manor of Sevenoaks, and had “conveyed” Knole
-itself to one Henry Smith (retaining, however, the
-house at a rent of £100 a year for his own use), and in
-the course of rather less than ten years he had sold
-estates, including much of Fleet Street and the Manor
-of Holborn, to the value of £80,616, or nearly a
-million of modern money.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>In Aubrey’s <em>Bodleian Letters</em> there is an anecdote
-concerning him, not devoid of humour:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He [Sir Kenelm Digby] married that celebrated beauty
-and courtesan, Mrs. Venetia Stanley, whom Richard, Earl
-of Dorset, kept as his concubine, had children by her, and
-settled on her an annuity of £500 per annum; which after
-Sir Kenelm Digby married her was unpaid by the Earl: Sir
-Kenelm Digby sued the Earl, after marriage, and recovered
-it. Venetia Stanley was a most beautiful and desirable
-creature&nbsp;... sanguine and tractable, and of much suavity.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>In those days Richard, Earl of Dorset, lived in the greatest
-splendour of any nobleman of England.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>After her marriage she [Venetia Stanley] redeemed her
-honour by her strict living. Once a year the Earl of Dorset
-invited her and Sir Kenelm to dinner, where the Earl would
-behold her with much passion, yet only kiss her hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Later on in his life a certain Lady Peneystone
-appears, who considerably complicated the already
-difficult relations between Anne and himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Anne Clifford herself, in spite of all that she had to
-endure at his hands, gives a charitable account of him.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>This first lord of mine was in his own nature of a just mind,
-of a sweet disposition, and very valiant in his own person.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He was&nbsp;... so great a lover of scholars and soldiers, as
-that with an excessive bounty towards them, or indeed any
-of worth that were in distress, he did much to diminish his
-estate, as also with excessive prodigality in housekeeping,
-and other noble ways at court, as tilting, masqueing, and the
-like, Prince Henry being then alive, who was much addicted
-to these exercises, and of whom he was much beloved.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>What his wife says of his being a great lover of
-scholars is borne out by his friendship with and
-patronage of Beaumont, Ben Jonson, Fletcher, and
-Drayton. Nothing else remains to his credit. He is
-utterly eclipsed—weak, vain, and prodigal—by the
-interest of that woman of character, his wife, knowing
-so well to “discourse of all things, from predestination
-to slea<a id='r2' /><a href='#f2' class='c020'><sup>[2]</sup></a> silk,” and by the faithful picture that is her
-Diary.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>She is living (1616) principally at Knole, sometimes
-in London, sometimes making an expedition into the
-North to join her mother, who in all her difficulties
-was her counsellor and ally. The perpetual topic of the
-diary is the dispute with her husband:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>“My Coz: Russell came to me the same day, and chid
-me, and told me of all my faults and errors, he made me
-weep bitterly, then I spoke a prayer of Owens, and came
-home by water where I took an extreme Cold.”</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Archbishop [of Canterbury] my Lord William
-Howard, my Lord Rous, my Coz: Russell, my brother
-Sackville, and a great company of men were all in the
-gallery at Dorset House, where the Archbishop took me
-aside and talked with me privately one hour and half, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>persuaded me both by Divine and human means to set my
-hand to their arguments. But my answer to his Lordship
-was that I would do nothing until my Lady [her mother] and
-I had conferred together. Much persuasion was used by
-him and all the company, sometimes terrifying me and sometimes
-flattering me.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Next day was a marvellous day to me, for it was generally
-thought that I must either have sealed the argument or else
-have parted from my Lord.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>She then starts for the North—a hazardous journey—to
-confer with her mother.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>We had two coaches in our company with four horses
-apiece and about twenty-six horsemen. I came to my lodgings
-[at Derby] with a heavy heart considering how many things
-stood between my Lord and I.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>We went from the Parsons’ House near the Dangerous
-Moors, being eight miles and afterwards the ways so dangerous
-the horses were fain to be taken out of the coach to be
-lifted down the hills. This day Rivers’ horse fell from a bridge
-into the river. We came to Manchester about ten at night.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Dorset was not above subjecting her to petty annoyances
-and humiliations, for he sends messengers after
-her with “letters to show it was my Lord’s pleasure
-that the men and horses should come away without
-me, so after much falling out betwixt my Lady [her
-mother] and them, all the folks went away, there being
-a paper drawn to show that they went away by my
-Lord’s direction and contrary to my will.<a id='r3' /><a href='#f3' class='c020'><sup>[3]</sup></a> At night I
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>sent two messengers to my folks to entreat them to
-stay. For some two nights my mother and I lay
-together, and had much talk about this business.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>In order to get back to London she has to borrow
-a coach from her mother, from whom she takes a
-“grievous and heavy parting.” Arrived at Knole, “I
-had a cold welcome from my Lord,” and a day or two
-later he takes his departure for London, sending constant
-messengers and letters, to know whether she will
-give way to his demands. “About this time,” she
-sadly writes—it is April, spring at Knole, and she then
-aged twenty-six—“about this time I used to rise early
-in the morning and go to the Standing in the garden,
-and taking my prayer book with me beseech God to be
-merciful to me and to help me as He always hath done.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Meanwhile Dorset’s threats increase in virulence:
-on the first of May he sends Mr. Rivers to tell her she
-shall live neither at Knole nor at Bolbrook; on the
-second he sends Mr. Legg to tell the servants he will
-come down once more to see her, which shall be the
-last time; and on the third he sends Peter Basket, his
-gentleman of the horse, with a letter to say “it was his
-pleasure that the Child should go the next day to
-London&nbsp;... when I considered that it would both
-make my Lord more angry with me and be worse for
-the Child I resolved to let her go; after I had sent
-for Mr. Legg and talked with him about that and other
-matters I wept bitterly.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>On the fourth “... the Child went into the
-litter to go to London.” There is no comment. It
-must have been a pathetic little departure.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>On the ninth she received, besides the news that her
-mother was dangerously ill, “a letter from my Lord
-to let me know his determination was the Child should
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>go to live at Horsley, and not come hither any more,
-so as this was a very grievous and sorrowful day to me.”
-An unusual bitterness escapes from her pen:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>All this time my Lord was in London where he had all
-and infinite great resort coming to him. He went much
-abroad to Cocking and Bowling Alleys, to plays and horse
-races, and commended by all the world. I stayed in the
-country, having many times a sorrowful and heavy heart, and
-being condemned by most folks because I would not consent
-to the agreement, so as I may truly say I am like an owl in
-the desert.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>And a few days later:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>My Lord came down from London, my Lord lying in
-Leslie Chamber and I in my own. My Lord and I after
-supper had some talk, we fell out and parted for that night.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There was worse to come, for at the end of the month
-her mother died, “which I held as the greatest and
-most lamentable cross that could have befallen me,”
-and, mixed up with this sorrow, which is evidently
-genuine, is the fear that she may be definitely dispossessed
-of the inheritance of her forefathers. She
-found, however, that she had the disposal of the body,
-“which was some contentment to my aggrieved soul.”
-Her sorrows begin to lighten. Dorset, probably perceiving
-his bullying to be worse than useless against a
-woman of her mettle, tries a different tack: “My
-Lord assured me how kind and good a husband he
-would be to me”; they patch up a reconciliation, and
-she makes over to him certain of her Cumberland
-estates in default of heirs; they agree that Mrs.
-Bathurst, apparently a bone of contention, should “go
-away from the Child&nbsp;... so that my Lord and I were
-never greater friends than at this time&nbsp;... and my
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>Lord brought me down to the coach side where we had
-a loving and kind parting.” He even joined her in the
-North, and she records how at Appleby Castle she set
-up the “green velvet bed where the same night we
-went to lie there,” and how “in the afternoon I
-wrought stitchwork and my Lord sat and read by me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>She gives many particulars of how she spent her days
-in the North. I fancy she was a good deal happier there,
-and more at home, and consequently more lighthearted,
-than at Knole. At the same time she was
-anxious to go back to London to rejoin Dorset, but
-this for some reason he was not disposed to allow. She
-consoled herself with innocuous occupations:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>This month I spent in working and reading. Mr.
-Dunbell read a great part of the <cite>History of the Netherlands</cite>....
-Upon the 1st I rose by times in the morning and went
-up to the Pagan Tower to my prayers, and saw the sun rise....
-Upon the 4th I sat in the Drawing Chamber all the
-day at my work.... Upon the 9th I sat at my work and
-heard Rivers and Marsh read Montaigne’s <cite>Essays</cite>, which
-book they have read almost this fortnight.... Upon the
-12th I made an end of my cushion of Irish stitch, it being
-my chief help to pass away the time at work.... Upon the
-21st was the first day I put on my black silk grogram gown....
-Upon the 20th I spent most of the day in playing at
-Tables. All this time since my Lord went away I wore my
-black Taffety night-gown<a id='r4' /><a href='#f4' class='c020'><sup>[4]</sup></a> and a yellow Taffety waistcoat and
-used to rise betimes in the morning and walk upon the leads
-and afterwards to hear reading. Upon the 23rd I did string
-the pearls and diamonds left me by my mother into a necklace.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>At last the summons came, and “upon the 24th
-Basket set out from London to Brougham Castle to
-fetch me up. I bought of Mr. Cleborn who came to see
-me a clock and a save-Guard [= cloak] of cloth laced
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>with black lace to keep me warm on my journey.”
-Dorset sent in the retinue to fetch her, moreover, a
-cook, a baker, and a Tom Fool.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Her arrival in London was auspicious: Dorset and
-a company of relatives came out to meet her at
-Islington, so that there were in all ten or eleven coaches,
-and when she arrived at Dorset House she found the
-house “well dressed up against I came,” and the Child
-met her in the gallery. Moreover, “all this time of my
-being at London I was much sent to and visited by
-many” (the young heiress, whose matrimonial disputes
-had raised so much dust at Court, was an object
-of interest and curiosity), and she made friends: “My
-Lady Manners came in the morning to dress my head.
-I had a new black wrought Taffety gown which my
-Lady St. John’s tailor made. She used often to come
-to me, and I to her, and was very kind one to another.”
-Such troubles as she had were but slight: “I dined
-above in my chamber and wore my night-gown
-because I was not very well, which day and yesterday
-I forgot that it was fish day and ate flesh at both
-dinners. In the afternoon I played at Glecko<a id='r5' /><a href='#f5' class='c020'><sup>[5]</sup></a> with
-my Lady Gray and lost £27 odd money.” So far, so
-good. She gave a sweet-bag to the Queen for a New
-Year’s gift, and was kissed by the King. She went to
-see the play of the Mad Lover; she went to the Tower
-to see Lord and Lady Somerset, lying there since their
-arraignment; she went to the Court to see Lord
-Villiers created Earl of Buckingham; she ate a
-“scrambling supper” and went to see the Masque on
-Twelfth Night. She betrays with an unsophisticated
-and rather charming ingenuity her delight in these
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>things. But the storm scowled at her over the rim of the
-horizon, and presently it broke. The first entries are
-like the splash of the first big rain-drops: “We came
-from London to Knole; this night my Lord and I had
-a falling out about the land.” Next day she has Mr.
-Sandy’s book about the government of the Turks read
-aloud to her, but “my Lord sat the most part of the
-day reading in his closet.” Next day his sulks
-materialized, and he “went up to London upon the
-sudden, we not knowing it till the afternoon.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Six days later—there are no entries in the diary to
-record the suspense of these six days—she is sent for to
-London to see the King, a higher test for her strength
-of mind, even, than the former persuasions of the Archbishop
-of Canterbury. Will she capitulate at last? or
-will she come out with her flag still flying? the
-tongues of London wagged. The interview is best
-given in her own words:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Upon the 17th when I came up, my Lord told me I must
-resolve to go to the King next day. Upon the 18th being
-Saturday, I went presently after dinner to the Queen to the
-Drawing Chamber where my Lady Derby told the Queen
-how my business stood, and that I was to go to the King,
-so she promised me she would do all the good in it she could.
-When I had stayed but a little while there I was sent for out,
-my Lord and I going through my Lord Buckingham’s
-chamber, who brought us into the King, being in the
-Drawing Chamber. He put out all those that were there, and
-my Lord and I kneeled by his chair side, when he persuaded
-us both to peace and to put the whole matter wholly into his
-hands, which my Lord consented to, but I beseeched His
-Majesty to pardon me <em>for that I would never part from Westmoreland
-while I lived upon any condition whatsoever</em>, sometimes
-he used fair means and persuasions and sometimes foul
-means, but I was resolved before, so, as nothing would move
-me, from the King we went to the Queen’s side, and brought
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>my Lady St. John to her lodging and so we went
-home.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is a little note at the side of this entry: “The
-Queen gave me warning not to trust my matters absolutely
-to the King lest he should deceive me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The affair was not allowed to rest there. Two days
-later she was again summoned before the King, and a
-sour, unedifying spectacle the majesty of James I must
-have presented, thus confronted with the young
-obstinacy of the heiress of Westmoreland:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>I was sent for up to the King into his Drawing Chamber,
-where the door was locked and nobody suffered to stay here
-but my Lord and I, my Uncle Cumberland, my Coz:
-Clifford, my Lords Arundel, Pembroke and Montgomery,
-Sir John Digby. For lawyers there were my Lord Chief
-Justice Montague, and Hobart Yelverton the King’s
-Solicitor, Sir Randal Crewe that was to speak for my Lord
-and I. The King asked us all if we would submit to his
-judgement in this case, my uncle Cumberland, my Coz:
-Clifford, and my Lord answered they would, but I would
-never agree to it without Westmoreland, at which the King
-grew in a great chaff. My Lord of Pembroke and the King’s
-solicitor speaking much against me, at last when they saw
-there was no remedy, my Lord, fearing the King would do
-me some public disgrace, desired Sir John Digby would open
-the door, who went out with me and persuaded me much to
-yield to the King. Presently after my Lord came from the
-King, when it was resolved that if I would not come to an
-agreement there should be an agreement made without me.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>After these encounters she retired to Knole, while
-Dorset remained in London, “being in extraordinary
-grace and favour with the King.” She, poor thing,
-resumed at Knole the pitiful monotony of her country
-existence, which to a mind so vigorous must have been
-irksome in the extreme, and the Diary becomes again
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>the record of her small occupations threaded with the
-worry and sorrow of her dissensions with her husband.
-It is illuminating that she never criticizes him; there
-are references to his “worth and nobleness of disposition”;
-her spirit, although high and emancipated
-enough to stand out against the King in the defence of
-Westmoreland, could not conceive revolt against the
-subjection of matrimony. It is an idea which never
-once enters her head. She even writes him a letter to
-give him “humble thanks for his noble usage toward
-me in London”; but a very little while after this
-“Thomas Woodgate came from London and brought
-a squirrel to the Child, and my Lord wrote me a letter
-by which I perceived my Lord was clean out with me,
-and how much my enemies have wrought against me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Conscientious as she is, she no longer finds enough
-events to justify a daily entry. Perhaps—who knows?
-for my part I strongly suspect it—her fighting spirit
-preferred even the ordeals and excitements of London
-to the tedium of Knole. She has very little to tell:
-only the gowns she wore, the books she read, the games
-she played with the steward, and the ailments of the
-Child.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>At this time I wore a plain green flannel gown that
-William Pinn made me and my yellow taffety waistcoat.
-Rivers used to read to me in Montaigne’s <cite>Essays</cite>, and Moll
-Neville in the <cite>Fairy Queen</cite>. The Child had a bitter fit of
-her ague again insomuch I was fearful of her that I could
-hardly sleep all night and I beseeched God Almighty to be
-merciful and spare her life.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>This ague of the Child’s is a constant preoccupation.
-I suppose that it was a kind of convulsion, for which
-the cure was a “salt powder to put in her beer.” On
-certain days a return of it appears to have been confidently
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>expected, for I find: “upon the 4th should
-have been the Child’s fit, but she missed it,” and two
-days later she has “a grudging of her ague.” There is
-a good deal about the Child—never referred to under
-any other designation until she attains her 5th birthday,
-after which she is promoted to “my Lady
-Margaret.” The portrait of her which is here reproduced
-hangs over the fireplace in Lady Betty Germaine’s
-sitting-room; her ring dangles on a ribbon
-round her neck, and her hair is done in an elaborate
-manner which defied all my efforts, when I was the
-same age, to do my own in the same way.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>She was an amusement and a consolation, as well as
-a source of anxiety, to her mother. Her garments are
-carefully noted:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The 28th was the first time the Child put on a pair of
-whalebone bodice.... The Child put on her red bays
-coat.... I cut the Child’s strings from off her coats and
-made her use togs alone, so as she had two or three falls at
-first but had no hurt with them.... The Child put on her
-first coats that were laced, with lace being of red bays....
-I began to dress my head with a roll without a wire. I wrote
-not to my Lord because he wrote not to me since he went
-away. After supper I went out with the child who rode a
-pie-bald nag. The 14th, the Child came to lie with me which
-was the first time that ever she lay all night in a bed with
-me since she was born;</p>
-<p class='c025'>and another time she speaks of “the time being very
-tedious with me, as having neither comfort nor company,
-only the Child.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>For the rest, she was thrown back upon her own
-resources. Dorset came and went, and in between
-whiles there are small, vivid pictures of existence at
-Knole:</p>
-<div id='i_068' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_068fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>LADY MARGARET SACKVILLE<br /><br /><span class='sc'>Daughter of Richard Sackville, 3rd Earl of Dorset, and Lady Anne Clifford</span><br /><br />“THE CHILD”<br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='sc'>Mytens</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'><span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>After supper I walked in the garden and gathered cherries,
-and talked with Josiah [the French page] who told me he
-thought all the men in the house loved me.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>And again:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>About this time [April 1617] my Lord made the steward
-alter most of the rooms in the house and dress them up as
-fine as he could and determined to make all his old clothes
-in purple stuff for the Gallery and Drawing Chamber.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>March 1617. 5th.</em> Couch puppied in the morning.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><cite>8th.</cite> I made an end of reading <cite>Exodus</cite>. After supper I
-played at Glecko with the steward as I often do after dinner
-and supper.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>9th.</em> I went abroad in the garden and said my prayers in
-the standing.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>10th.</em> I was not well at night, so I ate a posset and went to
-bed.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>11th.</em> The time grew tedious, so as I used to go to bed
-about 8 o’clock I did lie a-bed till 8 the next morning.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>14th.</em> I made an end of my Irish stitch cushion.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>15th.</em> My Lord came down to Buckhurst. This day I put
-on my mourning grogram gown and intend to wear it till
-my mourning time is out, because I was found fault with for
-wearing such ill clothes.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>22nd.</em> I began a new Irish stitch cushion.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>24th.</em> We made Rosemary cakes.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Two days later Dorset arrived from Buckhurst, and
-they walked together in the park and the garden.
-“I wrought much within doors and strived to sit as
-merry a face as I could upon a discontented heart”;
-but in spite of this entry they seem to have remained
-on fairly friendly terms until Easter.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>30th.</em> I spent in walking and sitting in the park, having
-my mind more contented than it was before my Lord came
-from Buckhurst.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>5th April.</em> My Lord went up to my closet and said how
-little money I had left contrary to all they had told him,
-sometimes I had fair words from him and sometimes foul,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>but I took all patiently, and did strive to give him as much
-content and assurance of my love as I could possibly, yet
-<em>I told him I would never part with Westmoreland</em>. After
-supper, because my Lord was sullen and not willing to go
-into the nursery, I had Mary bring the Child to him in my
-chamber.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>7th.</em> My Lord lay in my chamber.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>13th.</em> My Lord supped privately with me in the Drawing
-Chamber, and had much discourse of the manners of the
-folks at court.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>By the <em>17th</em>, My Lord told me he was resolved never to
-move me more in these business because he saw how fully
-I was bent;</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>but evidently he did not stick to this good resolution,
-because, on April 20th, Easter-day, “My Lord and
-I had a great falling-out,” and a few days later, “This
-night my Lord should have lain with me, but he and
-I fell out about matters.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>By the next day, however, they were friends again;
-they played at Burley Break upon the lawn; and
-“this night my Lord came to lie in my chamber.”
-The next day, too, was spent in peace, and she “spent
-the evening in working and going down to my Lord’s
-closet, where I sat and read much in the Turkish
-history, and Chaucer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>So it goes on. It becomes, perhaps, a little monotonous,
-save that it is always so human, and so modern.
-One sympathizes with her in her weaknesses even
-more than in her defiance; when, for instance, she
-writes amicable letters to all her relations-in-law, sending
-them locks of the Child’s hair, being “desirous to
-win the love of my Lord’s kindred by all the fair means
-I could,” in reality stealing a march upon Dorset in
-order to get them on her side. One day she chronicles,
-“This night I went into a bath,” but whether this
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>event was of such rarity as to deserve special mention is
-not explained. At Whitsuntide they all went to church,
-but “my eyes were so blubbered with weeping that
-I could scarce look up,” and in the afternoon of the
-same day they again “fell out.” But she consoles herself
-with new clothes—or was that an additional
-penance? for she was never given to personal vanity—“I
-essayed on my sea-water green satin gown and my
-damask embroidered with gold, both which gowns the
-tailor which was sent from London made fit for me to
-wear with open ruffs after the French fashion.” Little
-peace-offerings came from time to time from Dorset;
-on one occasion he sends “half a buck, with an
-indifferent kind letter,” and on another occasion “My
-Lord sent Adam to trim the Child’s hair, and sent me
-the dewselts of two deer and wrote me a letter between
-kindness and unkindness.” “Still working and being
-extremely melancholy” is the entry of one summer
-day, and a day later, “Still working and sad.” A
-little after this she “rode on horseback to Withyham
-to see my Lord Treasurer’s tomb, and went down into
-the vault, and came home again [to Knole] weeping
-the most part of the day.” This is perhaps not very
-surprising. I have been down into that vault myself,
-and it is not a cheerful expedition. In a small, dark cave
-underground, beneath the church, among grey veils
-of cobwebs, the coffins of the Sackvilles are stacked on
-shelves; they go back to the fourteenth century, and
-are of all sizes, from full-grown men down to the tiny
-ones lapped in lead. But, of course, when Anne
-Clifford went there there were not so many as there
-are now; the pompous ones were not yet in their
-places, with their rusty coronets, save those of the old
-Treasurer and his son; and their blood did not run
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>in the veins of Lady Anne, so on the whole she had
-less reason to be impressed than I.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The Diary continues in very much the same strain
-until it comes to an end with December 1619, the year
-1618 being entirely missed out. By that time both
-Dorset and Anne were in bad health; but whereas he
-was to die five years later, at the age of thirty-five,
-she, made of tougher stuff, was to survive him by
-fifty-two years. His last letter to her, written to her
-on the very day of his death, shows all the affection
-which was so undermined by that question of her
-lands:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>26th March, 1624.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Sweet Heart,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>I thank you for your letter. I had resolved to come
-down to Knole, and to have received the Blessed Sacrament,
-but God hath prevented it with sickness, for on Wednesday
-night I fell into a fit of casting, which held me long, then
-last night I had a fit of fever. I have for my physician Dr.
-Baskerville and Dr. Fox. I thank God I am now at good ease,
-having rested well this morning. I would not have you
-trouble yourself till I have occasion to send for you. You
-shall in the meantime hear daily from me. So, with my love
-to you, and God’s blessing and mine to both my children,
-I commend you to God’s protection.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Your assured loving husband</div>
- <div class='line in20'><span class='fss'>RICHARD DORSET</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>“His debts,” says one Chamberlain, writing to Sir
-Dudley Carleton, “are £60,000, so that he does not
-leave much.” In his will he bequeaths to his “dearly
-beloved wife all her wearing apparel and such rings and
-jewels as were hers on her marriage, and the rock ruby
-ring which I have given her,” also “my carriage
-made by Mefflyn, lined with green cloth and laced
-with green and black silk lace, and my six bay coach
-geldings.”</p>
-<div id='i_072' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_072fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE VENETIAN AMBASSADOR’S BEDROOM</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>
- <h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c017'>Her portraits change as her years advance, and the
-lines of determination harden about her mouth. Her
-true life—the life for which she was most truly fitted—only
-began after she had passed her fiftieth year, when
-with the death of her kinsman Lord Cumberland the
-northern estates passed calmly and naturally into her
-hands at last. All the quarrels and litigation and
-anxiety of her youth were left behind her; she had
-buried Lord Dorset; she had buried Lord Pembroke
-after a second marriage as disastrous and as contentious
-as the first; she had borne Sackville children and
-Herbert children; she had been long-suffering though
-adamant, submissive though immovable; she had
-moped in the sumptuous prisons that were Knole and
-Wilton; now she was free to turn tyrant herself over
-her own undisputed realm. She wasted nothing of the
-opportunity. Away from London, away from the
-influence of the Court, entrenched in her numerous
-castles in the North, she ruled autocratically over her
-servants, her tenants, her neighbours, and the generations
-and ramifications of her family. No detail of
-comings and goings, no penny of expenditure escaped
-her vigilant eye or her recording pen; and her diary,
-that document of intimacy, autocracy, piety, and
-exactitude, carries its entries down to the very day
-before her death. With public or political events she
-scarcely ever concerned herself, but on the other hand
-no detail of her own private life or of the existence of
-those around her was too small to excite her comment.
-Whether her laundry-maids went to church, whether
-she pared her finger and toe nails, whether her dog
-puppied, whether she received letters, whether she
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>washed her feet and legs (this is on the 22nd of
-February, the last occasion being on the 13th of
-December preceding), whether she kissed the sempstress—all
-is noted with the same precision and gravity.
-No anniversary or coincidence is allowed to pass
-unobserved. That amazing memory extended back
-over threescore years; and, moreover, she had the
-immense volumes of her notebooks for reference, date
-for date. Her past was ever present to her, the agreeable
-and the disagreeable merged into one landscape of
-consonant tone, and whether she observes that this day
-sixty years ago she travelled with her blessed mother,
-or fell out with Dorset, it is with the same complacency
-and satisfaction at having the tiny anniversary to
-record. This vigorous mind was not, perhaps, planned
-on a very broad scale. It was self-centred and self-sufficient;
-severe but not reckless; no fine carelessness
-endears her to us, or surprises; even her acts
-of generosity, and they were numerous, are recorded
-with the same scrupulous accuracy. She could not give
-two shillings to a child without setting it down. Her
-generosity, like all her other acts, was methodical; she
-rewarded her servants for definite services with extra
-wages; she kept ready to hand a supply of little
-presents, because it was contrary to her ideas of
-hospitality that any visitor, however humble, should
-go away empty-handed, and was careful to consider
-what particular gift would be most acceptable to the
-recipient, frequently choosing something of practical
-utility, such as gloves or lengths of cloth for women,
-money or ruffles for men; and these idiosyncracies
-run true all through her character, for, conversely,
-although she was prepared to be generous in her treatment
-of others, she was equally determined that she
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>herself should be fairly treated by them, and frequent
-are the entries in her diary to this effect: “In the
-morning did I see Mr. Robert Willison of Penrith paid
-for a rundlet of sack, but I was very angry with him
-because I thought it too dear, and told him I would
-have no more of him, and then he slipped away from
-me in a good hurry.” She would always pay cash too,
-and bullied her special almswomen, whom she would
-not allow to ask for credit with the tradesmen of
-Appleby.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Her rights were her rights, and she had always had a
-great idea of them. One recognizes the spirit that told
-the King she “<em>would never be parted from Westmoreland</em>,”
-in the old litigant that went unhesitatingly
-and repeatedly to law over niceties connected with
-small portions of her estates, content to spend large
-sums of money in lawyers’ fees if only she could
-succeed—as she invariably did—in proving her point.
-There is one story which illustrates both her tenacity
-and her humour—the story of a certain tenant whose
-rent included a hen due yearly to the lady of the
-manor. This tribute he neglected to hand over. Lady
-Anne instantly had the law on him, spent £400 in
-enforcing her claim, won her case, received the hen,
-invited her defeated opponent to dinner with her, and
-caused the bird to be cooked for them both as the
-staple dish of the meal.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>So the tranquil and crowded years spun themselves
-out for her, and she grew to be an old woman and a
-contented one, for she had attained at last the existence
-and occupations best suited to her. Her life was full:
-the things which filled it were small things, perhaps,
-but if they satisfied her who should cavil? Her
-journeyings alone occupied much of her time: those
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>extraordinary progresses from castle to castle, she herself
-travelling in her horse-litter, her ladies in the
-coach-and-six, her menservants on horseback, her
-women in other coaches, and a rabble of small fry
-following, so that the miniature army which accompanied
-her amounted sometimes to as many as three
-hundred. Often this retinue would include members
-of her family, or some of her neighbours; they
-travelled over the moors of the North, by rough roads,
-“uncouth and untrodden, those mountainous and
-almost impassable ways,” stopping on the way in those
-highland villages which had not yet been honoured by
-a visit from the great old lady or received her bounty,
-and, coming at the end of the journey to Brougham,
-to Brough, to Barden, to Skipton, to Pendragon, or to
-Appleby, Lady Anne would receive her dependants
-one by one in her own chamber, give her hand to the
-men, kiss the women, and dismiss them again to their
-own homes. Her health was no longer very good, but
-that was never allowed to deter her from her plans:
-her courage and vigour triumphed always over the
-treacherous flesh, greatly to the concern of those about
-her. On one occasion, travelling from Appleby to
-Brougham, she was delayed at the start by a “swounding
-fit,” when she had to be carried to a bed and laid
-there near a “great fire”; much persuasion was used
-that she “would not travel on so sharp and cold a day,
-but she, having before fixed on that day, and so much
-company being come purposely to wait on her, she
-would go.” As she reached her litter, however, she
-fainted again, “Yet as soon as that fit was over she
-went.” Arrived at Brougham she fainted for the third
-time, but on being upbraided by her friends and
-servants for her stubbornness in making the journey,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>she replied that she knew she must die, and it was the
-same thing to her to die on the way as in her house,
-in her litter or in her bed, and furthermore would not
-acknowledge any necessity why she should live, but
-saw every necessity for keeping to her resolution. “If
-she will, she will, you may depend on’t,” they said of
-her, “if she won’t, she won’t, and there’s an end on’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Now that there was no one to reproach her, as
-Dorset had been accustomed to reproach her, for her
-lack of finery and absence of proper vanity, she dressed
-always in rough black serge, she shaved her head, her
-fare was of the plainest, and her personal economy was
-pushed to the length of such small eccentricities as
-using up every stray scrap of paper for her correspondence.
-One luxury, indeed, she permitted herself:
-she smoked a pipe. Into all the details of her household
-she looked with a careful eye; already in the days
-when she was living at Knole she had used up Richard
-Dorset’s old shirts to make clouts, now at Appleby
-she saw to the preserving of fruit, she had her cheeses
-made at Brougham, sixteen at a time, she got her coal
-from her own pits, she had all delinquents into her own
-room and scolded them till they were probably thankful
-to be dismissed. At the same time she never forgot
-those that had served her faithfully; she would send
-her own coach to bring some old retainer to visit her;
-the marriages, morals, and vicissitudes of her meanest
-servant were a matter of interest to her; their marriage
-portions she made her own affair. Besides her servants,
-her own family gave her much food for thought and
-preoccupation: it is true that of her seven children
-only two—her two Sackville daughters—had lived to
-grow up, but they by now had produced a cohort of
-grandchildren, whose visits to Lady Anne were a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>source of infinite pleasure to the old lady. It is, altogether,
-a pleasant and seemly end to such a life. She
-had attained the great age of eighty-six; her diary
-was filled with religious references; she never dwelt
-upon her death, but it is clear that she can never for
-one moment have dreaded it. She had lived up consistently
-to her principles and to her motto: “Preserve
-your loyalty, defend your rights,” and was ready
-to go whenever the call should come. “I went not out
-all this day,” is the last entry in her diary, and the next
-day (22nd of March 1676), there is an entry in
-another hand, “The 22nd day the Countess died.”</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>A Catalogue</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'><em>of the Household, and Family of the Right Honourable</em>
-<span class='fss'>RICHARD, EARL</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, <em>in the year of our Lord
-1613; and so continued until the year 1624, at Knole,
-in Kent</em>.</p>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><em>At</em> <span class='fss'>MY LORD’S TABLE</span></h4>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>My Lord</li>
- <li class='c026'>My Lady</li>
- <li class='c026'>My Lady Margaret</li>
- <li class='c026'>My Lady Isabella</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Sackville</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Frost</li>
- <li class='c026'>John Musgrave</li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Garret</li>
-</ul>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><em>At</em> <span class='fss'>THE PARLOUR TABLE</span></h4>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Field</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Willoughby</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Grimsditch</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Stewkly</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Fletcher</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Wood</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Dupper, <em>Chaplain</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Matthew Caldicott, <em>my Lord’s favourite</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Edward Legge, <em>Steward</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Peter Basket, <em>Gentleman of the Horse</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Marsh, <em>Attendant on my Lady</em></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>Mr. Wooldridge</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Cheyney</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Duck, <em>Page</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Josiah Cooper, <em>a Frenchman, Page</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. John Belgrave, <em>Page</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Billingsley</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Graverner, <em>Gentleman Usher</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Marshall, <em>Auditor</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Edwards, <em>Secretary</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Drake, <em>Attendant</em></li>
-</ul>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><em>At</em> <span class='fss'>THE CLERKS’ TABLE IN THE HALL</span></h4>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>Edward Fulks and John Edwards, <em>Clerks of the Kitchen</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Edward Care, <em>Master Cook</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>William Smith, <em>Yeoman of the Buttery</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Henry Keble, <em>Yeoman of the Pantry</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Mitchell, <em>Pastryman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Vinson, <em>Cook</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Elnor, <em>Cook</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Ralph Hussie, <em>Cook</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Avery, <em>Usher of the Hall</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Robert Elnor, <em>Slaughterman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Benjamin Staples, <em>Groom of the Great Chamber</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Petley, <em>Brewer</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>William Turner, <em>Baker</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Francis Steeling, <em>Gardener</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Richard Wicking, Gardener</li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Clements, <em>Under Brewer</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Samuel Vans, <em>Caterer</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Edward Small, <em>Groom of the Wardrobe</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Samuel Southern, <em>Under Baker</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Lowry, <em>a French boy</em></li>
-</ul>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><span class='fss'>THE NURSERY</span></h4>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>Nurse Carpenter</li>
- <li class='c026'>Widow Ben</li>
- <li class='c026'>Jane Sisley</li>
- <li class='c026'>Dorothy Pickenden</li>
-</ul>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>
- <h4 class='c014'><em>At</em> <span class='fss'>THE LONG TABLE IN THE HALL</span></h4>
-</div>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>Robert Care, <em>Attendant on my Lord</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Gray, <em>Attendant likewise</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Roger Cook, <em>Attendant on my Lady Margaret</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Adam Bradford, <em>Barber</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. John Guy, <em>Groom of my Lord’s Bedchamber</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Walter Comestone, <em>Attendant on my Lady</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Edward Lane, <em>Scrivener</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Thomas Poor, <em>Yeoman of the Wardrobe</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Thomas Leonard, <em>Master Huntsman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mr. Woodgate, <em>Yeoman of the Great Chamber</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Hall, <em>Falconer</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>James Flennel, <em>Yeoman of the Granary</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Rawlinson, <em>Armourer</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Moses Shonk, <em>Coachman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Anthony Ashly, <em>Groom of the Great Horse</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Griffin Edwards, <em>Groom of my Lady’s Horse</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Francis Turner, <em>Groom of the Great Horse</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>William Grynes, <em>Groom of the Great Horse</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Acton Curvett, <em>Chief Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>James Loveall, <em>Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Sampson Ashley, <em>Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>William Petley, <em>Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Nicholas James, <em>Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Paschal Beard, <em>Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Elias Thomas, <em>Footman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Henry Spencer, <em>Farrier</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Edward Goodsall</li>
- <li class='c026'>John Sant, <em>the Steward’s Man</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Ralph Wise, <em>Groom of the Stables</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Petley, <em>Under Farrier</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Stephens, <em>the Chaplain’s Man</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Haite, <em>Groom for the Stranger’s Horse</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Giles, <em>Groom of the Stables</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Richard Thomas, <em>Groom of the Hall</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Christopher Wood, <em>Groom of the Pantry</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>George Owen, <em>Huntsman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>George Vigeon, <em>Huntsman</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Grittan, <em>Groom of the Buttery</em></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>Solomon, <em>the Bird-Catcher</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Richard Thornton, <em>the Coachman’s Man</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Richard Pickenden, <em>Postillion</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>William Roberts, <em>Groom</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>The Armourer’s Man</li>
- <li class='c026'>Ralph Wise, <em>his Servant</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Swift, <em>the Porter’s Man</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>John Atkins, <em>Men to carry wood</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Clement Doory, <em>Men to carry wood</em></li>
-</ul>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><span class='fss'>THE LAUNDRY-MAIDS’ TABLE</span></h4>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Judith Simpton</li>
- <li class='c026'>Mrs. Grace Simpton</li>
- <li class='c026'>Penelope Tutty, <em>the Lady Margaret’s Maid</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Anne Mills, <em>Dairy-Maid</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Prudence Bucher</li>
- <li class='c026'>Anne Howse</li>
- <li class='c026'>Faith Husband</li>
- <li class='c026'>Elinor Thompson</li>
- <li class='c026'>Goodwife Burton</li>
- <li class='c026'>Grace Robinson, <em>a Blackamoor</em></li>
- <li class='c026'>Goodwife Small</li>
- <li class='c026'>William Lewis, <em>Porter</em></li>
-</ul>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><span class='fss'>KITCHEN AND SCULLERY</span></h4>
-
-<ul class='index c004'>
- <li class='c026'>Diggory Dyer</li>
- <li class='c026'>Marfidy Snipt</li>
- <li class='c026'>John Watson</li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Harman</li>
- <li class='c026'>Thomas Johnson</li>
- <li class='c026'>John Morockoe, <em>a Blackamoor</em></li>
-</ul>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V<br /> Knole in the Reign of Charles I<br /> EDWARD SACKVILLE<br /> <span class='large'>4th<br /> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c015'>The wreckage of Richard’s estates devolved at
-his death upon his brother Edward, who at that
-time was travelling in Italy. This Edward
-Sackville was once to me the embodiment of Cavalier
-romance. At the age of thirteen I wrote an enormous
-novel about him and his two sons. He had the advantage
-of starting with Vandyck’s portrait in the hall,
-the flame-coloured doublet, the blue Garter, the
-characteristic swaggering attitude, the sword, the lovelocks,
-the key of office painted dangling from his hip
-and the actual key dangling on a ribbon from the
-frame of the picture—and then the account of his duel
-with Lord Bruce, his devotion to Charles I, the
-plundering raid of Cromwell’s soldiers into Knole, the
-murder of his younger son by the Roundheads, the
-picture of the two boys throwing dice—all this was a
-source of rich romance to a youthful imagination
-nourished on <cite>Cyrano</cite> and <cite>The Three Musketeers</cite>. I
-used to steal up to the attics to examine the old nail-studded
-trunks from which the Roundheads had
-broken off the locks. There they were—the visible
-evidence of the old paper in the Muniment Room,
-which said, “They have broken open six trunks; in
-one of them was money; what is lost of it we know not,
-in regard the keeper of it is from home.” There they
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>were, carelessly stacked: on one of them was stabbed
-the date in big nails, 1623; and there were others,
-curved to fit the roof of a barouche; of later date these,
-but all intimate and palpitating to a very ignorant
-child to whom the centuries meant Thomas or Richard
-or Edward Sackville; Holbein, Vandyck or Reynolds;
-farthingale chairs or love-seats. What were dates when
-the centuries went by generations? The battered
-trunks were stacked near the entrance to the hiding-place,
-which, without the smallest justification save an
-old candlestick and a rope-ladder found therein, I
-peopled with the fugitive figures of priests and
-Royalists. I peeped into the trunks: they contained
-only a dusty jumble of broken ironwork, some old
-books, some bits of hairy plaster fallen from the ceiling,
-some numbers of <cite>Punch</cite> for 1850. Nevertheless, there
-were the gaping holes where the locks had been prised
-off the trunks, and the lid forced back upon the hinges
-by an impatient hand. Down in the Poets’ Parlour,
-where I lunched with my grandfather, taciturn unless
-he happened to crack one of his little stock-in-trade of
-jokes, Cromwell’s soldiers had held their Court of
-Sequestration. The Guard Room was empty of arms
-or armour, save for a few pikes and halberds, because
-Cromwell’s soldiers had taken all the armour away.
-The past mingled with the present in constant
-reminder; and out in the summer-house, after
-luncheon, with the bees blundering among the flowers
-of the Sunk Garden and the dragon-flies flashing over
-the pond, I returned to the immense ledger in which
-I was writing my novel, while Grandpapa retired to
-his little sitting-room and whittled paper-knives from
-the lids of cigar-boxes, and thought about—Heaven
-knows what <em>he</em> thought about.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>Edward Sackville in the big Vandyck was indeed a
-handsome, rubicund figure, “beautiful, graceful, and
-vigorous&nbsp;... the vices he had were of the age, which
-he was not stubborn enough to resist or to condemn.”
-What these vices were I do not know; the records of
-his life make no allusion to them. It is true that the
-cause of his duel remains a mystery; Lord Clarendon
-knew it, but beyond mentioning that it was fought on
-account of a lady, kept his own counsel. It is true also
-that his sister-in-law, Lady Anne Clifford, disliked him
-greatly and spoke of the malice he had always shown
-towards her; but then amicable relationship with Lady
-Anne was not easily sustained. On the face of it, his life
-seems to have been loyal and honourable: he suffered
-considerably for the sake of the cause he had at heart,
-and his few speeches and letters are full of reserve and
-dignity, supported by the facts of his own misfortunes;
-I do not see what more he could have done to deserve
-the adjective staunch. To me at thirteen he was very
-staunch and doughty, and one does not willingly go
-back on one’s first impressions. His wife, too, in the
-pointed stomacher, and the shoes with huge rosettes,
-governess to the royal children, voted a public funeral
-in Westminster Abbey, was another staunch figure:
-severe, uncompromising, but impeccable.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>The duel with Lord Bruce was fought when Edward
-Sackville was twenty-three years old, at Bergen-op-Zoom
-in Holland, which so late as 1814 still went by
-the name of Bruceland. In the Knole Muniment
-room a paper cover was found upon which was
-written “The relation of my Lord’s duel with
-the Lord Bruce,” and the following are in all
-probability the papers originally contained therein.
-The “Worthy sir” to whom the letter is addressed
-remains anonymous, but was evidently some friend
-in England:</p>
-<div id='i_084' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_084fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>EDWARD SACKVILLE, <span class='sc'>4th Earl of Dorset, K.G.</span><br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='sc'>Vandyck</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span><span class='sc'>Worthy Sir</span>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>As I am not ignorant, so I ought to be sensible of the
-false aspersions some authorless tongues have laid upon
-me in the reports of the unfortunate passage lately happened
-between the Lord Bruce and myself, which, as they
-are spread here, so I may justly fear they reign also where you
-are. There are but two ways to resolve doubts of this nature,
-by oath and by sword.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The first is due to magistrates, and communicable to
-friends; the other to such as maliciously slander, and
-impudently defend their assertions. Your love, not my
-merit, assures me you hold me your friend; which esteem
-I am much desirous to retain. Do me, therefore, the right
-to understand the truth of that; and, in my behalf, inform
-others, who either are or may be infected with sinister
-rumours, much prejudicial to that fair opinion I desire to
-hold amongst all worthy persons; and, on the faith of a
-gentleman, the relation I shall give is neither more nor less
-than the bare truth. The enclosed contains the first citation
-sent me from Paris by a Scottish gentleman, who delivered
-it me in Derbyshire, at my father-in-law’s house. After it
-follows my then answer, returned him by the same bearer.
-The next is my accomplishment of my first promise, being
-a particular assignation of place and weapon, which I sent
-by a servant of mine, by post, from Rotterdam, as soon as I
-landed there, the receipt of which, joined with an acknowledgement
-of my fair carriage to the deceased Lord, is
-testified by the last, which periods the business till we met at
-Tergose, in Zealand, it being the place allotted for rendezvous;
-where he [accompanied with one Mr. Crawford, an
-English gentleman, for his second, a surgeon, and his man]
-arrived with all the speed he could. And there having
-rendered himself, I addressed my second, Sir John Heydon,
-to let him understand that now all following should be done
-by consent, as concerning the terms whereon we should fight,
-as also the place. To our seconds we gave power for their
-appointments, who agreed that we should go to Antwerp,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>from thence to Bergen-op-Zoom, where in the midway a
-village divides the States’ territories from the Archduke’s;
-and there was the destined stage, to the end, that, having
-ended, he that could might presently exempt himself from
-the justice of the country, by retiring into the dominion not
-offended. It was further concluded, that in case any should
-fall or slip, that then the combat should cease; and he,
-whose ill fortune had so subjected him, was to acknowledge
-his life to have been in the other’s hands. But in case one
-party’s sword should break, because that could only chance
-by hazard, it was agreed that the other should take no
-advantage, but either then be made friends, or else, upon
-even terms, go to it again. Thus these conclusions, being
-by each of them related to his party, were, by us, both
-approved and assented to. Accordingly we embarked for
-Antwerp; and by reason my Lord [as I conceive, because
-he could not handsomely without danger of discovery] had
-not paired the sword I sent him to Paris, bringing one of the
-same length, but twice as broad, my second excepted against
-it, and advised me to match my own, and send him the
-choice; which I obeyed, it being, you know, the challenger’s
-privilege to elect his weapon. At the delivery of the swords,
-which was performed by Sir John Heydon, it pleased the
-Lord Bruce to choose my own; and then, past expectation,
-he told him that he found himself so far behind-hand, as a
-little of my blood would not serve his turn; and therefore
-he was now resolved to have me alone, because he knew [for
-I will use his own words] that so worthy a gentleman, and
-my friend, could not endure to stand by, and see him do that
-which he must, to satisfy himself and his honour. Thereunto
-Sir John Heydon replied, that such intentions were
-bloody and butcherly, far unfitting so noble a personage,
-who should desire to bleed for reputation, not for life;
-withal adding, he thought himself injured, being come thus
-far, now to be prohibited from executing those honourable
-offices he came for. The Lord Bruce, for answer, only
-reiterated his former resolution; the which, not for matter,
-but for manner, so moved me, as though to my remembrance
-I had not for a long while eaten more liberally than at
-dinner; and therefore, unfit for such an action [seeing the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>surgeons hold a wound upon a full stomach much more
-dangerous than otherwise], I requested my second to certify
-him I would presently decide the difference, and should
-therefore meet him, on horseback, only waited on by our
-surgeons, they being unarmed. Together we rode [but one
-before the other some twelve score] about two English
-miles; and then Passion, having so weak an enemy to assail
-as my direction, easily became victor; and, using his power,
-made me obedient to his commands. I being very mad with
-anger the Lord Bruce should thirst after my life with a kind
-of assuredness, seeing I had come so far and needlessly to
-give him leave to regain his lost reputation, I bade him
-alight, which with all willingness he quickly granted; and
-there, in a meadow [ankle-deep in the water at least],
-bidding farewell to our doublets, in our shirts we began to
-charge each other, having afore commanded our surgeons
-to withdraw themselves a pretty distance from us; conjuring
-them besides, as they respected our favour or their own
-safeties, not to stir, but suffer us to execute our pleasure; we
-being fully resolved [God forgive us] to despatch each other
-by what means we could. I made a thrust at my enemy, but
-was short; and, in drawing back my arm, I received a
-great wound thereon, which I interpreted as a reward for my
-short shooting; but, in revenge, I pressed in to him, though
-I then missed him also; and then received a wound in my
-right pap, which passed level through my body, and almost to
-my back; and there we wrestled for the two greatest and dearest
-prizes we could ever expect, trial for honour and life; in
-which struggling, my hand, having but an ordinary glove on
-it, lost one of her servants, though the meanest, which hung
-by a skin, and, to sight, yet remaineth as before, and I am
-put in hope one day to recover the use of it again. But at
-last breathless, yet keeping our holds, there passed on both
-sides propositions for quitting each other’s sword. But,
-when Amity was dead, Confidence could not live, and who
-should quit first was the question, which on neither part
-either would perform; and, re-striving again afresh, with a
-kick and a wrench together I freed my long-captive weapon,
-which incontinently levying at his throat, being master still
-of his, I demanded if he would ask his life or yield his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>sword? Both which, though in that imminent danger, he
-bravely denied to do. Myself being wounded, and feeling
-loss of blood, having three conduits running on me, began to
-make me faint; and he courageously persisting not to accord
-to either of my propositions, remembrance of his former
-bloody desire, and feeling of my present estate, I struck at
-his heart; but, with his avoiding, missed my aim, yet passed
-through his body, and, drawing back my sword, repassed it
-through again through another place, when he cried, “Oh,
-I am slain!” seconding his speech with all the force he had
-to cast me. But being too weak, after I had defended his
-assault, I easily became master of him, laying him on his
-back; when being upon him, I redemanded if he would
-request his life? But it seems he prized it not at so dear a
-rate to be beholden for it, bravely replying “He scorned it!”
-which answer of his was so noble and worthy, as I protest
-I could not find in my heart to offer him any more violence,
-only keeping him down, till, at length, his surgeon afar off
-cried out, “He would immediately die if his wounds were
-not stopped!” whereupon I asked, “if he desired his
-surgeon should come?” which he accepted of; and so being
-drawn away, I never offered to take his sword, accounting
-it inhumane to rob a dead man, for so I held him to be.
-This thus ended, I retired to my surgeon, in whose arms,
-after I had remained awhile for want of blood, I lost my sight,
-and withal, as I then thought, my life also. But strong water
-and his diligence quickly recovered me; when I escaped a
-great danger, for my Lord’s surgeon, when nobody dreamt
-of it, came full at me with his Lord’s sword; and had not
-mine with my sword interposed himself, I had been slain
-by those base hands, although my Lord Bruce, weltering in
-his blood, and past all expectation of life, conformable to all
-his former carriage, which was undoubtedly noble, cried out
-“Rascal, hold thy hand!” So may I prosper, as I have
-dealt sincerely with you in this relation, which I pray you,
-with the enclosed letter, deliver to my Lord Chamberlain.
-And so, etc.,</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Yours,</div>
- <div class='line in2'><span class='fss'>EDWARD SACKVILLE</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Lovain</span>, the <em>8th September, 1613</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>The citations or letters mentioned above to be
-enclosed in this account of Mr. Sackville are as
-follows:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><em>A Monsieur, Monsieur</em> <span class='sc'>Sackville</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>I, that am in France, hear how much you attribute to
-yourself in this time, that I have given the world to ring your
-praises; and for me the truest almanach to tell you how
-much I suffer. If you call to memory when, as I gave you
-my hand last, I told you I reserved the heart for a truer
-reconciliation, now be that noble gentleman my love once
-spoke, and come do him right that would recite the trials
-you owe your birth and country, where I am confident your
-honour gives you the same courage to do me right that it did
-to do me wrong. Be master of your weapons and time; the
-place wheresoever I wait on you. By doing this you shall
-shorten revenge, and clear the idle opinion the world hath
-of both our worths.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>ED. BRUCE.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><em>A Monsieur, Monsieur Baron de</em> <span class='sc'>Kinloss</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>As it shall be far from me to seek a quarrel, so will I also
-be ready to meet with any that is desirous to make trial of
-my valour, by so fair a course as you require; a witness
-whereof yourself shall be, who, within a month, shall receive
-a strict account of time, place and weapon, where you shall
-find me ready disposed to give honourable satisfaction by
-him that shall conduct you thither. In the meantime be as
-secret of the appointment as it seems you are desirous of it.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>ED. SACKVILLE.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><em>A Monsieur, Monsieur Baron de</em> <span class='sc'>Kinloss</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>I am at Torgose, a town in Zealand, to give what satisfaction
-your sword can render you, accompanied with a
-worthy gentleman for my second, in degree a Knight; and
-for your coming I will not limit you a peremptory day, but
-desire you to make a definite and speedy repair, for your own
-honour and fear of prevention, at which time you shall find
-me there.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>ED. SACKVILLE.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Torgose</span>, <em>10th August, 1613</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span><em>A Monsieur, Monsieur</em> <span class='sc'>Sackville</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>I have received your letter by your man, and acknowledge
-you have dealt nobly with me, and I come with all possible
-haste to meet you.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>E. BRUCE.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>Between this affair and the date of his succession to
-his brother Richard, Edward Sackville was employed
-on various missions: he sat in the House of Commons,
-he was twice sent as ambassador to Louis XIII, and he
-travelled in France and Italy. He was thus, when he
-succeeded, an experienced man of thirty-four, and he
-pursued, uninterruptedly, the sober path of office, now
-Lord Chamberlain, now Lord Privy Seal, now a Commissioner
-for planting Virginia, always in the confidence
-of the King, and his name affixed to State
-documents of the day in noble company. The disgraces
-and follies of his predecessors and of his
-descendants were not his lot, if that murderous duel is
-to be excepted. My flaming Cavalier, <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">flamberge au
-vent</span></i>, was in reality a sober and consistent gentleman;
-loyal, but not impetuous; prejudiced, but not blinded;
-devoted, but not afraid to speak his mind in criticism;
-and in support of this claim I shall presently quote from
-one of his speeches in which he argues against a continuance
-of the Civil War and pleads for a prompt
-reconciliation between the King and his Parliament.
-His judgment is acute, and his attitude remarkably
-sound and broad-minded. Yet at the same time his
-devotion to the King was such, that after Charles’
-execution Lord Dorset never passed beyond the
-threshold of his own door.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There are a few papers at Knole relating to the years
-before the war began, and from them one may gather
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>some idea of the then manner of life, always remembering
-that Lord Dorset was much impoverished by the
-extravagance of his brother. The total income for the
-year 1628 from Knole and Sevenoaks was £100
-18<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>—a fifth part of which was derived from the
-sale of rabbits. Some details of expenses are given in the
-account-books, besides those which I have already given
-in connection with the park in the second chapter:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>Money spent on the pale in Knole Park for one year</em>
-(£8 9<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>) <em>as follows</em>:</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>For filling, cleaning, and making six loads of pale rails, posts, and shores, two men</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>8</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Setting up panels of pales, blown down by the wind against Riverhill, 10<em>d.</em> day each man</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>5</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Paid a labourer for spreading the mole hills in the meads and for killing moles</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>3</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'>The steward of Sevenoaks was paid ten shillings a
-year, the bailiff of Sevenoaks £10, the steward of
-Seal £2 10<em>s.</em>, the bailiff of Seal £4.</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Four hundred nails for the pales</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Paid for setting up pales at mock-beech gate</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>8</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='4'>Paid toward repairing the market cross in</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Sevenoaks</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c022'>8</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'>Portions of the park, such as were not already under
-cultivation of hops, were leased out to farmers for
-grazing:</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><em>The joistment<a id='r6' /><a href='#f6' class='c020'><sup>[6]</sup></a> of Knole Park, May 1629.</em></td>
- <td class='c022'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c010'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Of William Bloom for 3 yearlings</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Of George Dennis for keeping 20 runts<a id='r7' /><a href='#f7' class='c020'><sup>[7]</sup></a></td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>13</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Of Richard Wicking for his kines’ pasture</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>13</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Of Richard Fletcher for summering 2 colts</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>There were other sources of revenue. Letters patent
-granted an imposition of 4<em>s.</em> per chaldron on all coal
-exported, to be divided among the Earl of Dorset, the
-Earl of Holland, and Sir Job Harby:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>COAL IMPOSITIONS</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>6th May, 1634</td>
- <td class='c022'>4312</td>
- <td class='c022'>13</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Deduction for expenses</td>
- <td class='c022'>507</td>
- <td class='c022'>11</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Rest to be divided into thirds</td>
- <td class='c022'>3805</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c010'>8</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c025'>That is to say, Dorset’s share would be £1268 7<em>s.</em> 8<em>d.</em>,
-or more than £10,000 of modern money.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>He obtained also £100 a year by devising to Richard
-Gunnel and William Blagrave for four and a half years
-a piece of land at the lower end of Salisbury Court,
-Fleet Street, 140 feet in length and 42 feet in breadth,
-on condition that they should at their own expense put
-up a play-house. What would be the rent of such a
-piece of land now in Fleet Street? Certainly not
-£100.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>In spite of the fact that he complained constantly of
-his reduced income, Lord Dorset added considerably
-to the park. He obtained a long lease of Seal Chart, and
-“all woods and under-woods of the waste or common
-of the Manors of Seal and Kemsing, viz., upon Rumshott
-Common, Riverhill Common, Hubbard Hill
-Common, and Westwood Common&nbsp;... in all at least
-500 acres.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>More entertaining is the acquisition of an overseas
-estate—no less than that part of the east coast of
-America which to-day includes New York, Boston, and
-Philadelphia. Those little manors in the neighbourhood
-of Sevenoaks, those 500 acres of common land,
-dwindle suddenly beside this formidable tenure. “An
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>island called Sandy [Hook]” the petition casually
-begins:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>An island called Sandy, lying near the continent of
-America, in the height of 44 degrees, was lately discovered by
-one Rose, late master of a ship, who suffered shipwreck, and,
-finding no inhabitants, took possession. The Earl of Dorset
-prays a grant of the said island for thirty-one years, and that
-none may adventure thither but such as petitioner shall license.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>A second petition takes one’s breath away with its
-magnificent insolence:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Earl of Dorset to the King. Certain islands on the
-south of New England, viz: Long Island, Cole Island,
-Sandy Point, Hell Gates, Martin’s [? Martha’s] Vineyard,
-Elizabeth Islands, Block Island, with other islands near
-thereunto, were lately discovered by some of your Majesty’s
-subjects and are not yet inhabited by Christians. Prays a
-grant thereof with like powers of government as have been
-granted for other plantations in America.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Underneath this is scribbled:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Reference to the Attorney-General to prepare a grant.
-Whitehall, 20th Dec., 1637.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>One would wish to evoke for a brief hour the
-spectres of those of his Majesty’s subjects who found
-these localities uninhabited by Christians.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Returning to Knole after this seems paltry; yet
-even there Lord Dorset was conducting his affairs on
-a proportionately large scale. He said himself that he
-spent £40,000 after his son’s marriage, and one can
-believe it when one reads a sample of the bill of fare
-provided for a banquet. At the top is written:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>To perfume the room often in the meal with orange
-flower water upon a hot pan. To have fresh bowls in every
-corner and flowers tied upon them, and sweet briar, stock,
-gilly-flowers, pinks, wallflowers and any other sweet flowers
-in glasses and pots in every window and chimney.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span><span class='fss'>BANQUET</span> <em>at</em> <span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> <em>3rd July 1636</em></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
- <dl class='dl_1'>
- <dt>1</dt>
- <dd>Rice Pottage
- </dd>
- <dt>2</dt>
- <dd>Barley broth
- </dd>
- <dt>3</dt>
- <dd>Buttered pickrell
- </dd>
- <dt>4</dt>
- <dd>Butter and burned eggs
- </dd>
- <dt>5</dt>
- <dd>Boiled teats
- </dd>
- <dt>6</dt>
- <dd>Roast tongues
- </dd>
- <dt>7</dt>
- <dd>Bream
- </dd>
- <dt>8</dt>
- <dd>Perches
- </dd>
- <dt>9</dt>
- <dd>Chine of Veal roast
- </dd>
- <dt>10</dt>
- <dd>Hash of mutton with Anchovies
- </dd>
- <dt>11</dt>
- <dd>Gr. Pike
- </dd>
- <dt>12</dt>
- <dd>Fish chuits [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>]
- </dd>
- <dt>13</dt>
- <dd>Roast venison, in blood
- </dd>
- <dt>14</dt>
- <dd>Capons (2)
- </dd>
- <dt>15</dt>
- <dd>Wild ducks (3)
- </dd>
- <dt>16</dt>
- <dd>Salmon whole, hot
- </dd>
- <dt>17</dt>
- <dd>Tenches, boiled
- </dd>
- <dt>18</dt>
- <dd>Crabs
- </dd>
- <dt>19</dt>
- <dd>Tench pie
- </dd>
- <dt>20</dt>
- <dd>Venison pasty of a Doe
- </dd>
- <dt>21</dt>
- <dd>Swans (2)
- </dd>
- <dt>22</dt>
- <dd>Herons (3)
- </dd>
- <dt>23</dt>
- <dd>Cold lamb
- </dd>
- <dt>24</dt>
- <dd>Custard
- </dd>
- <dt>25</dt>
- <dd>Venison, boiled
- </dd>
- <dt>26</dt>
- <dd>Potatoes, stewed
- </dd>
- <dt>27</dt>
- <dd>Gr. salad
- </dd>
- <dt>28</dt>
- <dd>Redeeve [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>] pie, hot
- </dd>
- <dt>29</dt>
- <dd>Almond pudding
- </dd>
- <dt>30</dt>
- <dd>Made dishes
- </dd>
- <dt>31</dt>
- <dd>Boiled salad
- </dd>
- <dt>32</dt>
- <dd>Pig, whole
- </dd>
- <dt>33</dt>
- <dd>Rabbits
- </dd>
- </dl>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><em>Another Menu</em></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
- <dl class='dl_1'>
- <dt>1</dt>
- <dd>Jelly of Tench, Jelly of Hartshorn
- </dd>
- <dt>2</dt>
- <dd>White Gingerbread
- </dd>
- <dt>3</dt>
- <dd>Puits [peewits]
- </dd>
- <dt>4</dt>
- <dd>Curlew
- </dd>
- <dt>5</dt>
- <dd>Ruffes [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>]
- </dd>
- <dt>6</dt>
- <dd>Fried perches
- </dd>
- <dt>7</dt>
- <dd>Fried Eels
- </dd>
- <dt>8</dt>
- <dd>Skirret Pie
- </dd>
- <dt>9</dt>
- <dd>Larks (3 doz.)
- </dd>
- <dt>10</dt>
- <dd>Plovers (12)
- </dd>
- <dt>11</dt>
- <dd>Teals (12)
- </dd>
- <dt>12</dt>
- <dd>Fried Pickrell
- </dd>
- <dt>13</dt>
- <dd>Fried tench
- </dd>
- <dt>14</dt>
- <dd>Salmon soused
- </dd>
- <dt>15</dt>
- <dd>Soused eel
- </dd>
- <dt>16</dt>
- <dd>Escanechia [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>]
- </dd>
- <dt>17</dt>
- <dd>Seagulls (6)
- </dd>
- <dt>18</dt>
- <dd>Ham of bacon
- </dd>
- <dt>19</dt>
- <dd>Sturgeon
- </dd>
- <dt>20</dt>
- <dd>Lark pie
- </dd>
- <dt>21</dt>
- <dd>Lobster pie
- </dd>
- <dt>22</dt>
- <dd>Crayfishes (3 doz.)
- </dd>
- <dt>23</dt>
- <dd>Dried tongues
- </dd>
- <dt>24</dt>
- <dd>Anchovies
- </dd>
- <dt>25</dt>
- <dd>Hartechocks [artichokes]
- </dd>
- <dt>26</dt>
- <dd>Peas
- </dd>
- <dt>27</dt>
- <dd>Fool
- </dd>
- <dt>28</dt>
- <dd>Second porridge
- </dd>
- <dt>29</dt>
- <dd>Reddeeve pie [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>]
- </dd>
- <dt>30</dt>
- <dd>Cherry tart
- </dd>
- <dt>31</dt>
- <dd>Laid tart
- </dd>
- <dt>32</dt>
- <dd>Carps (2)
- </dd>
- <dt>33</dt>
- <dd>Polony sasag [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>]
- </dd>
- </dl>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is also a list of “household stuff” dated the
-year of Lord Dorset’s succession.</p>
-
-<table class='table3' summary=''>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='15%' />
-<col width='84%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span></td></tr>
- <tr><th class='c008' colspan='2'>“A Note</th></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>of household stuff sent by <span class='fss'>SYMONDES</span> to <span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> the 28th of July 1624.”</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><em>Packed up in a fardel, viz.: in ye black bed chamber</em></td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IMPRIMIS.</span> A fustian down bed, bolster and a pair of pillows, a pair of Spanish blankets, 5 curtains of crimson and white taffeta, the valance to it of white satin embroidered with crimson and white silk and a deep fringe suitable; a test and tester of white satin suitable to the valance. A white rug. All these first packed up in 2 sheets and then packed in a white and black rug and an old blanket.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><em>Packed in another fardel, viz.: next ye chapel chamber</em></td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> A feather bed and bolster, a pair of down pillows, 2 mattrasses, 5 curtains and valances of yellow cotton trimmed with blue and yellow silk fringes and lace suitable, a tester to it suitable, a cushion case of yellow satin, a pair of blankets to wrap these things in, there is also in the fardel a yellow rug, and a white and black rug.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><em>In ye black bedchamber</em></td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> Two bedsteads whereof one of them is gilt, which with the posts, tests, curtains, etc., are in all 11 parcels whereof 4 are matted.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><em>In ye black bedchamber</em></td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> Packed up in mats 2 high stools, 2 low stools, and a footstool of cloth of tissue and chair suitable.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><em>Next ye Chaplain’s chamber</em></td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> There goes a yellow satin chair and 3 stools, suitable with their buckram covers to them. All the above written came from Croxall.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> Packed in mats my lady’s coach of cloth of silver, and 2 low stools that came from Croxall, and a said bag, wherein are 9 cups of crimson damask laid with silver parchment lace, and 6 gilt cups for my lord’s couch bed and canopy, and 8 gilt cups for the bed that came from Croxall.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> In a wicker trunk, 2 brass branches for a dozen lights apiece; and 2 single branches with bosses and bucks heads to them, also a wooden box with screws for the said 2 bedsteads, a dozen of spiggots to draw wine and beer, a bundle of marsh mallow roots, and 2 papers of almonds.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> A round wicker basket, wherein are 9 dozen of pewter vessels of 9 sorts or sizes.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> 4 back stools of crimson and yellow stuff with silk fringe suitable, covered with yellow baize.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> 6 pairs of mats to mat chambers with gt 30 yards apiece.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> 2 walnut tree tables to draw out at both ends with their frames of the same.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> A round table and its frame.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> 2 green broad cloth chairs, covered all over, laced, and set with green silk fringe and a back stool suitable, covered with green buckram.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> A box containing 3 dozen of Venice glasses.</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c028'><span class='fss'>IT:</span> A basket wherein are 20 dozen of maple trenchers.</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'>And finally, for I fear lest the detailing of these old
-papers should grow wearisome, there is a letter which
-so well illustrates the humour, the coarseness, and the
-difficulties of life at that time, that I make no apology
-for including it:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c023'>
- <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>Letter</div>
- <div class='c004'>from <span class='fss'>ELIZA COPE</span> to her sister the <span class='fss'>COUNTESS</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>BATH</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>19th Jan. 1639.</em> <span class='sc'>Brewerne</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Dear Sister</span>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c029'>I am glad to hear of your jollity. I could wish myself with
-you a little while sometimes. I have played at cards 4 or 5
-times this Christmas myself, after supper, which makes
-me think I begin to turn gallant now. Some of my neighbours
-put a compliment upon me this Christmas, and told
-me the old Lady Cope would never be dead so long as I was
-alive, they liked their entertainment so well, when my gilt
-bowl went round amongst them, which saying pleased me
-very well, for she was a discreet woman and worthy the
-imitating. I am as well pleased to see my little man make
-legs and dance a galliard, as if I had seen the mask at Court.
-I am glad you got well home for we have had extreme ill
-weather almost ever since you went, but now I will take the
-benefit of this frost to go visit some of my neighbours on foot
-to-morrow about seven miles off, but I will have a coach and
-6 horses within a call, against I am weary. You know the
-old saying, it is good going on foot with a horse in the hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Commend my service to your lord, and wishing to hear
-you were puking a-mornings I bid ye good-night in haste.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Your faithful sister,</div>
- <div class='line in16'><span class='fss'>ELIZA COPE</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>On the approach of civil war there could be, of
-course, no doubt on which side the Earl of Dorset
-would range himself. He had been for many years
-closely connected with both the King and Henrietta
-Maria, and Lady Dorset stood in a yet more intimate
-relationship to the King and Queen as governess to
-their children. Since 1630, the date of the birth of
-Charles II, she had held this position, and from this
-little anecdote it may be judged that she was not so
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>severe a preceptress as her portrait might lead one to
-suppose:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Charles II, when a child, was weak in the legs, and ordered
-to wear steel boots. Their weight so annoyed him that he
-pined till recreation became labour—an old Rocker took off
-the steel boots and concealed them: promising the Countess
-of Dorset, who was Charles’ governess, that he would take
-any blame for the act on himself. Soon afterwards, the King,
-Charles I, coming into the nursery, and seeing the boy’s
-legs without the boots, angrily demanded who had done it.
-“It was I, Sir,” said the Rocker, “who had the honour some
-thirty years since to attend on your Highness in your infancy,
-when you had the same infirmity wherewith now the Prince,
-your very own son, is troubled—and then the Lady Cary,
-afterwards Countess of Monmouth, commanded your steel
-boots to be taken off, who, blessed be God, since have
-gathered strength and arrived at a good stature.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is no small tribute to Lady Dorset’s integrity that
-after the outbreak of war she should have been continued
-in her office by Parliament.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>I have in my own possession a receipt signed by her
-for £125 for salary and expenses, 1641.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>War became imminent:</p>
-
-<p class='c021'>“the citizens grow very tumultous and flock by troops daily
-to the Parliament&nbsp;... they never cease yawling and
-crying “No Bishops, no Bishops!” My lord of Dorset is
-appointed to command the train-bands, but the citizens
-slight muskets charged with powder. I myself saw the
-Guard attempt to drive the citizens forth, but the citizens
-blustered at them and would not stir. I saw and heard my
-Lord of Dorset entreat them with his hat in his hand and
-yet the scoundrels would not move.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is clear from contemporary documents that Lord
-Dorset was preparing to take an active part. He did,
-in fact, raise a troop which he equipped at his own
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>expense, and with which he joined the King at York.
-But the old inventories give a list of residue arms and
-armour indicating a quantity originally more numerous
-than would be necessary to equip a small troop; the whole
-house must have been rifled to produce these weapons,
-all carefully listed, whether complete or incomplete,
-serviceable or not serviceable, old-fashioned or up to
-date. One can read between the lines of the list the
-anxiety that nothing should be omitted which could
-possibly be pressed into the service of the King.
-Among the armour at Knole at this date must have
-been the fine suit of tilting armour, formerly the property
-of the old Lord Treasurer, and now in the
-Wallace Collection, described as “a complete suit of
-armour&nbsp;... richly decorated by bands and bordering,
-deeply etched and partly gilt with a scroll design&nbsp;...
-the plain surfaces oxidised to a rich russet-brown
-known in inventories of the period as purple armour.”
-This suit, which is one of the gems of the Wallace
-Collection, had been made in 1575 by Jacob Topp or
-Jacobi for Sir Thomas Sackville.</p>
-
-<table class='table4' summary=''>
- <tr><th class='c008' colspan='2'>“An Inventory</th></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'>of such arms as are now remaining in the armoury at Knole belonging to the Rt. Hon. <em class='gesperrt'><span class='fss'>EDWARD EARL</span></em> of <span class='fss'><em class='gesperrt'>DORSET</em></span>,</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'><em>first the horsemen’s arms &amp; necessaries belonging to them</em>:”</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Cornets for Horses</td>
- <td class='c010'>2</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Curasiers arms gilt</td>
- <td class='c010'>2</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Curasiers arms plain</td>
- <td class='c010'>31</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>White tilting armour</td>
- <td class='c010'>3</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>A baryears Armour gorget and gauntlet wanting</td>
- <td class='c010'>1</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Sham front for tilting Run plates for barryers</td>
- <td class='c010'>1</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>Plated saddles suitable to the gilt arms and furniture rotten</td>
- <td class='c010'>2</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Old russet saddles trimmed with red leather and furniture defaulting</td>
- <td class='c010'>12</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Old russet and black saddles</td>
- <td class='c010'>12</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Black leather saddles with all furniture bits excepted</td>
- <td class='c010'>2</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Old French pistols, whereof four have locks the other 9 have none and double moulds to them</td>
- <td class='c010'>13</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Swords</td>
- <td class='c010'>14</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Horn flasks</td>
- <td class='c010'>49</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Whereof an old damask one cornered with velvet and many not serviceable Slight arms, back and breast 2 gorgets only to them</td>
- <td class='c010'>13</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'><em>Arms and other necessaries for foot men</em></td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>One engraven target</td>
- <td class='c010'>1</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Partisan rolled with red velvet and nailed with gilt nails and damasked with gold</td>
- <td class='c010'>1</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Partisans Damasked with Silver and the Cat on them [the Cat, <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">i.e.</span></i> the leopard]</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Corslets with back breast cases and headpieces</td>
- <td class='c010'>138</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Spanish picks and English picks with Spanish heads whereof 4 are broken</td>
- <td class='c010'>151</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Comb head pieces</td>
- <td class='c010'>70</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Old Spanish morions</td>
- <td class='c010'>50</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Halberts</td>
- <td class='c010'>7</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Bits</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Full muskets complete</td>
- <td class='c010'>76</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Bastard muskets</td>
- <td class='c010'>56</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Muskets imperfect</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Noulds to the muskets</td>
- <td class='c010'>2</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>New Rests</td>
- <td class='c010'>64</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Old Rests</td>
- <td class='c010'>7</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Bandeliers</td>
- <td class='c010'>36</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Barrels of match wanting 16 bundles</td>
- <td class='c010'>2</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c030' colspan='2'>(Signed) <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>. <em>Jan. 1641</em></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>It was not very long before the Parliamentarians got
-wind of this hoard, and in August 1642 three troops
-of horse under the command of one Cornell Sandys
-rode into Kent, invaded Knole, took prisoner a Sir
-John Sackville whom they found in charge there, did
-a certain amount of rough damage, and carried off the
-contents of the armoury to London. The proceedings
-were thus officially reported:</p>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><em>Some</em> <span class='sc'>SPECIAL &amp; REMARKABLE PASSAGES</span></h4>
-
-<p class='c031'><em>from both houses of</em> <span class='fss'>PARLIAMENT</span> <em>since Monday 15th of Aug. till
-Friday the 19th 1642</em>.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Upon Saturday night last, the Lord General having
-information of a great quantity of Arms of the Earl of
-Dorset’s at his house at Sevenoaks, in Kent, in the custody
-of Sir John Sackville, which were to be disposed of by him
-to arm a great number of the malignant party of that County,
-to go to York to assist his Majesty; called a Council of War,
-to consider of the same, and about 12 of the clock at night
-sent out 3 troops of Horse into Kent to seize upon the said
-Arms; which they did accordingly on the Sunday following;
-and on the Monday brought the same to London and
-Sir John Sackville prisoner, there being complete arms for
-500 or 600 men.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Despite the outcry of plaintive indignation which
-went up from Knole, the House of Lords report proves
-that their conduct towards Lord Dorset over the
-incident was fair, lenient, and even generous:</p>
-
-<p class='c021'>That the Arms of the Earl of Dorset which were at Knole
-House, are brought to Town, to be kept from being made
-use of against the Parliament,</p>
-
-<p class='c025'>and therefore this House ordered,</p>
-
-<p class='c021'>That such as are rich Arms shall not be made use of, but kept
-safely for the Earl of Dorset; but such as are fit to be made
-use of for the service of the Kingdom are to be employed;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>an Inventory to be taken, and money to be given to the Earl
-of Dorset in satisfaction thereof.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Thus ran the official reports; but Knole, astonished,
-aggrieved, and outraged, drew up a fuller list of
-injuries. It was the first time rude voices had ever
-echoed within those venerable walls or rude hands
-rummaged among the sacred possessions, the first time
-that orders had been issued there by another than the
-master. The Parliament men had entered with arrogance,
-spoken with authority, gone beyond their
-warrant, and ransacked wantonly—for from what
-motive but wantonness could they have taken the
-plumes from the bed-tester or the cushions from his
-Lordship’s own room? or spoilt the oil in the Painter’s
-Chamber? or, indeed, broken forty locks, unless to
-overcome such slight resistance in an unnecessarily
-high-handed manner? No doubt the novelty of the
-experience turned their heads. Rhetorically they were
-the representatives of the English Parliament, that
-sober and tenacious senate, as stubborn now as at
-Runnymede, but in private life they were men, however
-insignificant hitherto to Lord Dorset, men who,
-when he passed with a swagger, murmured dully
-beneath their reluctant deference. The moment when,
-cantering up over the crest of the hill, they first saw
-the grey forbidding walls and drew rein before the
-massive door, their horses’ bits jingling and the restive
-hoofs pawing at the gravel, must indeed have been an
-experience. Likewise, to ring their spurs on the paving-stones
-of the courtyards, to pass from room to room
-followed by a protesting and impotent steward, to
-stare at the pictures, to lounge on the velvet chairs, to
-set out their ink and paper on the solid table of the
-parlour and to draw up their indictment. It was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>August; the rose planted beneath the window of a
-Stuart King to commemorate his visit was covered with
-its little white blossoms; the turf was smooth and
-green; the flowers were bright under the young apple-trees
-in the orchard; the beeches and chestnuts were
-deep and heavy with the fullness of summer. The
-austerity of the Roundheads surely stiffened in the soft
-summer spaciousness of Knole. The owner was absent:
-they had only his new portrait to gaze at, with scorn
-of his brilliant doublet and his curling hair.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>All things considered, I think that they showed commendable
-restraint in their behaviour:</p>
-
-<h4 class='c014'><em>The hurt done at</em> <span class='fss'>KNOLE HOUSE</span> <em>the 14 Day of August 1642 by the</em> <span class='fss'>COMPANY OF HORSEMEN</span> <em>brought by</em> <span class='fss'>CORNELL SANDYS</span>:</h4>
-
-<p class='c032'>There are above forty stock locks and plated locks broken,
-which to make good will cost £10.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>There is of gold branches belonging to the couch in the
-rich gallery as much cut away as will not be made good for
-£40.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>And in my Lord’s chamber 12 long cushion-cases
-embroidered with satin and gold, and the plumes upon the
-bed-tester, to ye value of £30.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>They have broken open six trunks; in one of them was
-money; what is lost of it we know not, in regard the keeper
-of it is from home. They have spoiled in the Painter’s
-Chamber his oil, and other wrongs there to the value of £40.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>They have broke into Sir John his Granary and have
-taken of his oats and peas, to the quantity of three or four
-quarters £4.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The arms they have wholly taken away, there being five
-waggon-loads of them.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Nor was this the last time that the Parliamentarians
-came to Knole. Three years after these events Cromwell’s
-commissioners were installed there as the headquarters
-of the Court of Sequestration for Kent, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>held their sessions in the Poets’ Parlour, when the
-Sackvilles were, for a short time, deprived of the property.
-On this occasion there is no record of any
-definite damage to the contents of the house, although
-a House of Commons notice for January 1645 ordered
-that “two-thirds of the goods and estates of the Earl of
-Dorset not exceeding the sum of £500 now at Knole
-in the county of Kent, and lately discovered there,
-shall be employed for the use of the garrison at Dover
-Castle, towards the pay of their arrears.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Among the papers in the Muniment Room I find a
-letter of a later date from Sir Kenelm Digby to Lord
-Dorset, referring to some stolen pictures which he has
-been endeavouring to trace in Paris, and recommending
-to Lord Dorset a certain M. La Fontaine for “the
-much pains and running about he hath used,” suggesting
-that he should be rewarded with 20<em>s.</em> and recommended
-to good customers to sell his “powders and
-cigeours.” I wonder inevitably whether the loss of
-these pictures had been due to any action of Cromwell
-or his commissioners? Sir Kenelm’s letter, which is
-long, rambling, and rather illegible, does not make
-any mention of the cause or date of the disappearance.
-Sir Kenelm is himself of greater interest, perhaps,
-than his letter or the pictures. An intimate
-friend of Lord Dorset’s, the author of several housewifely
-little treatises, such as <cite>The Closet of Sir Kenelm
-Digby</cite> and <cite>Choice and Experimental Receipts</cite>, he was
-incidentally the husband of that Venetia Stanley whose
-lover Richard Sackville had been. (It has, I may
-mention, been suggested that Edward Sackville, not
-Richard, was the lover of Lady Digby; and having
-regard to what I know of Sir Kenelm’s character I
-should think it not inconsistent, even if this were so,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>that he should remain on most friendly terms with the
-former lover of his wife. He had, after all, not scrupled
-to sue Lord Dorset, whether Richard or Edward, for
-the continuance after marriage of Lady Digby’s
-pension of £500 a year.) Sir Kenelm’s portrait by
-Vandyck is at Knole in the Poets’ Parlour; he is a
-chubby little man, with a fat outspread hand, and
-dimples in the place of knuckles. At one period of the
-Civil War he suffered imprisonment, when Lord
-Dorset, wishing to beguile his friend’s tedium, advised
-him to read the recently published <cite>Religio Medici</cite> of
-Sir Thomas Browne: Sir Kenelm took his advice, and
-was so much impressed as to embody his observations
-in a long letter to Lord Dorset, which was subsequently
-printed (1643) by “R. C. for Daniel Frere, to be sold
-at his shop at the Red Bull in Little Britain.” I happen
-to have the first editions of the <cite>Religio Medici</cite> and the
-little companion volume of Sir Kenelm’s <cite>Observations</cite>:
-the former is heavily scored or commented by some
-appreciative reader, and attention is called in the
-margin to favourite passages by the drawing of a tiny
-hand with pointing finger, the wrist encircled by a
-cuff of <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">point de Venise</span></i>. Sir Kenelm esteemed his
-friend’s taste, and the “spirit and smartness” of the
-author, who set out upon his task so excellently poised
-with a happy temper. Towards the end of his discourse
-Sir Kenelm quite loses his sense of proportion in
-his enthusiasm over Lord Dorset’s discernment, and
-exclaims:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Tu regere imperio populos</span></i> [Sackville] <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">memento</span></i>,</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>and concludes by dating his letter “the 22nd [I think
-I may say the 23rd, for I am sure it is morning, and
-I think it is day] of December 1642,” thus proving
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>that he has sat up all night in prison with Sir Thomas
-Browne—and who in this generation could with truth
-make such a boast?</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iv</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>More tragical events than the desecration of his
-house or the imprisonment of his chubby friend
-marked for Lord Dorset the progress of the Civil War.
-His eldest son, Lord Buckhurst, was early taken
-prisoner at Miles End Green with Lord Middlesex and
-that same Sir Kenelm Digby, and his younger son,
-Edward, was also taken prisoner at Kidlington, near
-Oxford, and murdered in cold blood by a Roundhead
-soldier shortly after, at Abingdon. I know nothing of
-this Edward Sackville except that he was knighted at
-an early age, was reported to be “a good chymist,” and
-was deplored in an obituary poem as being</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>.... <em>a lamp that had consumed</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Scarce half its oil, yet the whole place perfumed</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Wherein he lived, or did in kindness come,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>As if composed of precious Balsamum</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>and as being to his friends</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in20'><em>that lost in losing him,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>An eye, a tongue, a hand, or some choice limb</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>The author of this poem, A. Townsend, contributed
-also to the Knole papers a set of verses on the death of
-Charles I. “It is a shame,” he exclaims,</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'><em>those that can write in verse,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Quite cover not with elegies his hearse</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>and asks:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Where are the learned sisters, whose full breast</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Was wont to yield such store of milk, unpressed?</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div id='i_106' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_106fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p><span class='sc'>The two sons of Edward, 4th Earl of Dorset</span>:<br /><br />RICHARD, LORD BUCKHURST; THE HON. EDWARD SACKVILLE<br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='sc'>Cornelius Nuie</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>The King, he says, was</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>.... <em>pious, temperate, and grave,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Just, gentle, constant, merciful, brave.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>All this, and more, he was not pleased to be,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Without the woman’s virtue, Chastity</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>most unlike Solomon, who was wise, yet</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>.... <em>did incline</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To worship idols, for a concubine</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>Lord Dorset himself took an active part in the fighting.
-At Edgehill he recaptured the Royal Standard
-which had been lost to the enemy, and to his answer
-during the same battle James II later testified:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The old Earl of Dorset, at Edgehill [<em>he wrote</em>], being
-commanded by the King my father to carry the Prince
-[Charles II] and myself up a hill out of the battle, refused
-to do it, and said he would not be thought a coward for ever
-a King’s son in Christendom.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>I think also that one of his speeches is worth printing,
-made at the Council table in reply to one of Lord
-Bristol’s which urged the continuance of the war. It
-is honest, enlightened, bold, and, considering his personal
-grievances, very dignified:</p>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c029'>The Earl of Bristol has delivered his opinion; and, my
-turn being next to speak, I shall, with the like integrity,
-give your Lordships an account of my sentiments in this
-great and important business. I shall not, as young students
-do in the schools, <em>argumentandi gratia</em>, repugn my Lord of
-Bristol’s tenets; but because my conscience tells me they are
-not orthodox, nor consonant to the disposition of the Commonwealth,
-which, languishing with a tedious sickness, must
-be recovered by gentle and easy medicines in consideration
-of its weakness rather than by violent vomits, or any other
-kind of compelling physic. Not that I shall absolutely labour
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>to refute my Lord’s opinion, but justly deliver my own,
-which, being contrary to his, may appear an express contradiction
-of it, which indeed it is not; peace, and that a
-sudden one, being as necessary betwixt his Majesty and his
-Parliament as light is requisite for the production of the day,
-or heat to cherish from above all inferior bodies; this
-division betwixt his Majesty and his Parliament being as if
-[by miracle] the sun should be separated from his beams, and
-divided from his proper essence. I would not, my Lords,
-be ready to embrace a peace that would be more disadvantageous
-to us than the present war, which, as the Earl
-of Bristol says, “would destroy our estates and families.”
-The Parliament declares only against delinquents; such as
-they conjecture have miscounselled his Majesty, and be the
-authors of these tumults in the Commonwealth. But these
-declarations of theirs, except such crimes can be proved
-against them, are of no validity. The Parliament will do
-nothing unjustly, nor condemn the innocent; and certainly
-innocent men had not need to fear to appear before any
-judges whatsoever. And he, who shall for any cause prefer
-his own private good before the public utility, is but an ill
-son of the Commonwealth. <em>For my particular, in these
-wars I have suffered as much as any; my house hath been
-searched, my arms taken thence, and my son-and-heir committed
-to prison. Yet I shall wave these discourtesies, because
-I know there was a necessity it should be so; and as
-the darling business of the kingdom, the honour and prosperity
-of the King, study to reconcile all these differences
-betwixt his Majesty and his Parliament; and so to reconcile
-them, that they shall no way prejudice his royal prerogative;
-of which I believe the Parliament being a loyal defender</em>
-[knowing the subject’s property depends on it; for, if
-sovereigns cannot enjoy their rights, their subjects cannot]
-will never endeavour to be infringed; so that, if doubts and
-jealousies were taken away by a fair treaty between his
-Majesty and the Parliament, no doubt a means might be
-devised to rectify these differences—the honour of the King,
-the estate of us his followers and counsellors, the privileges
-of Parliament, and property of the subject, be infallibly preserved
-in safety: and neither the King stoop in this to his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>subjects, nor the subjects be deprived of their just liberties
-by the King. And whereas my Lord of Bristol observes,
-“that in Spain very few civil dissensions arise, because the
-subjects are truly subjects, and the Sovereign truly a
-Sovereign”; that is, as I understand, the subjects are
-scarcely removed a degree from slaves, nor the Sovereign
-from a tyrant; here in England the subjects have, by long-received
-liberties granted to our ancestors by their Kings,
-made their freedom resolve into a second nature; and
-neither is it safe for our Kings to strive to introduce the
-Spanish Government upon these free-born nations, nor just
-for the people to suffer that Government to be imposed upon
-them, which I am certain his Majesty’s goodness never
-intended. And whereas my Lord of Bristol intimates the
-strength and bravery of our army as an inducement to the
-continuation of these wars, which he promises himself will
-produce a fair and happy peace; in this I am utterly
-repugnant to his opinion; for, grant that we have an army
-of gallant and able men, which, indeed, cannot be denied,
-yet we have infinite disadvantages on our side, the Parliament
-having double our number, and surely [though our
-enemies] persons of as much bravery, nay, and sure to be
-daily supported, when any of their number fails; a benefit
-which we cannot bestow, they having the most populous
-part of the kingdom at their devotion; all, or most, of the
-cities, considerable towns and ports, together with the
-mainest pillar of the kingdom’s safety, the sea, at their command,
-and the navy; and, which is most material of all, an
-inexhaustible Indies of money to pay their soldiers, out of the
-liberal contributions of coin and plate sent in by people of
-all conditions, who account the Parliament’s cause their
-cause, and so think themselves engaged to part with the
-uttermost penny of their estates in their defence, whom they
-esteem the patriots of their liberties. These strengths of
-theirs and the defects of ours considered, I conclude it
-necessary for all our safeties, and the good of the whole
-Commonwealth, to beseech his Majesty to take some present
-order for a treaty of peace betwixt himself and his high court
-of Parliament, who, I believe, are so loyal and obedient to
-his sacred Majesty, that they will propound nothing that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>shall be prejudicial to his royal prerogative, or repugnant
-to their fidelity and duty.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is, of course, not at all to my purpose to follow
-the course of the Civil War, but only to say that after
-the execution of the King Lord Dorset made a vow,
-which he is believed to have kept, that he would never
-again stir out of his house until he should be carried out
-of it in his coffin. He did not, in point of fact, survive
-the King by very many years, but died in 1652 and
-was buried at Withyham.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI<br /> Knole in the Reign of Charles II<br /> CHARLES<br /> <span class='large'>6th<br /> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c015'>Edward Sackville was succeeded by his
-son Richard, married to Lady Frances Cranfield,
-a considerable heiress, who, on the death
-of her brother, inherited the fortune and property of
-their father, Lionel Cranfield, Earl of Middlesex, sometime
-Treasurer to James I. I mention this marriage
-especially, because it brought to the Sackvilles the
-house called Copt Hall in Essex and its contents, which
-included much of the finest furniture now at Knole,
-some of the tapestry, the many portraits of the Cranfields
-by Mytens and Dobson, the series of historical
-portraits in the Brown Gallery, and the Mytens copies
-of Raphael’s cartoons. There are a number of receipts
-at Knole to no less than six different carriers, for
-wagon-loads of effects removed from Copt Hall to
-Knole at the cost of £2. 5<em>s.</em> per load. From Copt Hall
-also came the carved stone shield now in the Stone
-Court on the roof of the Great Hall. The Copt Hall
-estate was sold in 1701 for the approximate sum of
-twenty thousand pounds. The draft of the marriage
-settlement is at Knole:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>January 25th, 1640</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c019'>The Earl of Middlesex is to assure ten thousand pounds
-to the Earl of Dorset in marriage with the Lady Frances
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>Cranfield to the Lord Buckhurst to be paid in times and
-manner following:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>He is to retain the money in his hands, paying yearly to
-the young couple towards their maintenance by equal
-portions at Michaelmas and our Lady Day £800 per annum
-until a jointure be made of £1500 per annum, by the Lord
-Buckhurst joining with the Earl of Dorset when he shall
-come to full age.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>And if the Lord Buckhurst [which God forbid] shall
-decease before the said lady, or a jointure so made, then the
-ten thousand pound shall be the sole use of the said lady.
-But if the said lady [which God forbid] should die before
-the Lord Buckhurst without children, the said portion or so
-much shall remain not laid out by consent of the Earl of
-Dorset in purchasing in lands or leases, shall be paid to the
-said Earl of Dorset.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>And in the same connection there are some notes
-from Edward, Lord Dorset to Lord Middlesex, one
-written “this Thursday morning at 5 of the clock,”
-apologising for the “bad character” which Lord
-Middlesex must decipher—and indeed the writing is
-all but illegible—but he is obliged to write as he must
-go presently into Kent to dispose some bargains and
-sales.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>No particular interest attaches to Richard Sackville,
-save that he translated <cite>Le Cid</cite> into English verse and
-wrote a poem on Ben Jonson, but there are at Knole
-some memorandum books in his handwriting (between
-1660 and 1670) which are worth quoting, I think, for
-the following illuminating extracts:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><em>From the</em> <span class='fss'>DIARY</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>SERVANTS’</span> <em>faults</em></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Henry Mattock, for scolding to extremity on Sunday without cause</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>3</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>William Loe, for running out of doors from Morning till Midnight without leave</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Richard Meadowes, for being absent when my Lord came home late, and making a headless excuse</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Henry Mattock, for not doing what he is bidden</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>And 3<em>d.</em> a day till he does from this day.</td>
- <td class='c022'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c010'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Henry Mattock, for disposing of my cast linen without my order</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>3</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Robert Verrell, for giving away my money</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Henry Mattock, for speaking against going to Knole</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Verrell to pay for not burning the brakes out of the Wilderness, 3<em>d.</em> per week out of his week’s wages of 5<em>s.</em> for forty-two weeks.</td>
- <td class='c022'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c010'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'>There are various other notes in the same books:
-Thomas Porter, going to Knole, was to have five
-shillings a week board-wages; and, judging from the
-following, Lord Dorset evidently could not wholly
-trust his memory unaided: “My French shot-bag;
-an hammer, and some playthings for Tom, a bone
-knife, etc. A great Iron chafing-dish, or a fire-pan to
-set it upon.” And again, “A silver porringer for little
-Tom.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Another day he notes:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Old lead cast at Knole for the two turrets weighing
-1500 lbs. Old lead cast for the cistern weighing 1200 lbs.
-Sold 13th Aug. 1662 to Edmund Giles and Edward
-Bourne the Advowson of the Rectory and Parsonage of
-Tooting in Surrey for an £100 and paid my wife.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is also a receipt:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>Nov. 14, 1671.</em> <strong>Rec<sup>d</sup></strong> of the Right Hon. <span class='fss'>RICHARD</span> Earl
-of <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, in full of all wages bills and accounts whatsoever
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span><em>from ye beginning of ye World to this day</em> ye full
-sum of five pounds seven shillings and sixpence I say
-rec’d by <em class='gesperrt'><span class='fss'>JOHN WALL GROVE</span></em>.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>This Richard Sackville and Frances Cranfield had
-seven sons and six daughters. There are some delightful
-portraits of the little girls at Knole, one in particular
-of Lady Anne and Lady Frances, painted in a
-garden, leading a squirrel on a blue ribbon, and in the
-chapel at Withyham there is an elaborate monument to
-commemorate the youngest son, Thomas, no doubt the
-“little Tom” for whom the playthings and the silver
-porringer were to be remembered. The monument
-bears the following inscription:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Stand not amaz’d [Reader] to see us shed</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>From drowned eyes vain offerings to ye dead</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For he whose sacred ashes here doth lie</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Was the great hopes of all our family.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To blaze whose virtues is but to detract</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>From them, for in them none can be exact.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>So grave and hopeful was his youth,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>So dear a friend to piety and truth,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>He scarce knew sin, but what curst nature gave,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And yet grim death hath snatch’d him to his grave.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>He never to his Parents was unkind</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But in his early leaving them behind,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And since hath left us and for e’er is gone</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>What Mother would not weep for such a Son—</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>May this fair Monument then never fade,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Or be by blasting time or age decay’d.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>That the succeeding times to all may tell</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Here lieth one that liv’d and died well—</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Here lies the thirteenth child and seventh son</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Who in his thirteenth year his race had run.</em></div>
- <div class='line in38'><span class='fss'>THOMAS SACKVILLE.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>Of the other children, save of the eldest, there is no
-record, or none worth quoting: many of them died,
-as happened with such pitiable frequency, at a very
-early age: Lionel, aged three; Catherine, aged one;
-Cranfield, aged fourteen days; Elizabeth, aged two
-years; Anne, aged three. The eldest son, however, is
-one of the most jovial and debonair figures in the Knole
-portrait-gallery, Charles, the sixth Earl—let us call
-him the Restoration Earl—the jolly, loose-living,
-magnificent Mæcenas, “during the whole of his life
-the patron of men of genius and the dupe of women,
-and bountiful beyond measure to both.” He furnished
-Knole with silver, and peopled it with poets and
-courtesans; he left us the Poets’ Parlour, rich with
-memories of Pope and Dryden, Prior and Shadwell,
-D’Urfey and Killigrew; he left us the silver and ebony
-stands on which he was in the habit in hours of relaxation
-of placing his cumbersome periwig; he left us his
-portraits, both as the bewigged and be-ribboned
-courtier, and as the host, wrapped in a loose robe, a
-turban twisted round his head; he left us his gay and
-artificial stanzas to Chloris and Dorinda, and his
-rousing little song written on the eve of a naval
-engagement. He is not, perhaps, a very admirable
-figure. He was not above trafficking in court appointments;
-he disturbed London by a rowdy youth; he
-was reported to have passed on his mistresses to the
-King; he ended his life in mental and moral decay
-with a squalid woman at Bath. He followed the
-fashions of his age, and the most that can be claimed
-for him is that he should stand, along with his inseparables
-Rochester and Sedley, as the prototype of
-that age. But for all that, there is about such geniality,
-such generosity, and such munificence, a certain coarse
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>lovableness which holds an indestructible charm for
-the English race. It is that which makes Charles the
-Second a more popular monarch than William the
-Third: Herrick a more popular poet than Milton.
-Last but not least, Charles Sackville is connected with
-that most attractive figure of the English stage—Nell
-Gwyn.</p>
-<div id='i_116' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_116fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>CHARLES SACKVILLE, <span class='sc'>6th Earl of Dorset, K.G.</span><br /><br /><em>From the portrait by</em> <span class='sc'>Sir Godfrey Kneller</span> <em>in the Poets’ Parlour at Knole</em></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>It is not known precisely in what year he was born,
-but it was either 1639, 1640, or 1642, so that he must
-have been a young man somewhere in the neighbourhood
-of twenty when Charles II came to the throne.
-He had been educated by a tutor, one Jennings, and
-sent abroad with him: as Jennings wrote home of him
-in measured terms surprising in that age of sycophancy,
-saying “I doubt not he will attain to some perfection,”
-he probably held but a low opinion of the abilities of
-his pupil. I do not know at what age Lord Buckhurst,
-as he then was, returned to England, but he must have
-been quite young, for in 1660 he becomes Colonel of
-a regiment of foot, commands 104 men, and receives
-a yearly allowance of £70 from his father, and the
-references to him in Pepys begin in 1661 when he was
-not more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He was,
-says Dr. Johnson with characteristic disapproval and
-severity, “eager of the riotous and licentious pleasures
-which young men of high rank, who aspired to be
-thought wits, at that time imagined themselves entitled
-to indulge.” Many of his pranks have been placed on
-record. They are neither very funny nor very edifying.
-On one occasion he and his brother Edward, with
-three friends, were committed to Newgate for killing
-an innocent man in a brawl, and should no doubt have
-been tried for murder, but as those contretemps could
-be arranged with very little difficulty the charge was
-modified to manslaughter.<a id='r8' /><a href='#f8' class='c020'><sup>[8]</sup></a> On another occasion, the
-full details of which are not allowed to remain in the
-expurgated edition of Pepys, Lord Buckhurst, Sir
-Charles Sedley, and Sir Thomas Ogle got drunk at the
-Cock Tavern in Bow Street, where they went out on
-to a balcony, and Sedley took off all his clothes and
-harangued the crowd which collected below: the
-crowd, in indignation, drove them in with stones, and
-broke the windows of the house; for this offence all
-three gentlemen were indicted and Sedley was fined
-£500. On yet another occasion Buckhurst and Sedley
-spent the night in prison for brawling with the watch,
-and were delivered only on the King’s intervention.
-On yet another, Pepys records that “the King was
-drunk at Saxam with Sedley and Buckhurst, the night
-that my Lord Arlington came thither, and would not
-give him audience, or could not.” These and similar
-exploits recall the more celebrated escapade of
-Rochester as an astrologer, which at least had in it a
-humorous element entirely lacking in the mere rioting
-of drunken young men like Buckhurst and Sedley.
-It is not very surprising to learn that although he
-“inherited not only the paternal estate of the Sackvilles
-but likewise that of the Cranfields, Earls of
-Middlesex in right of his mother, yet at his decease
-his son, then only eighteen years of age, possessed so
-slender a fortune that his guardians when they sent
-him to travel on the Continent allowed him only eight
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>hundred pounds a year for his provision,” nor that
-“extenuated by pleasures and indulgences, he sank
-into a premature old age.” Before sinking into this old
-age, however, he lived through the full enjoyment of a
-splendid youth. It is difficult to imagine an era in
-English history more favourable to a young man of
-his type and fortune than the early years of Charles II,
-when the King himself was the ringleader in the outburst
-of revolt against that iron-grey period of
-Puritanism through which the country had just passed.
-Dresses became extravagant, silver ornate, speech
-licentious; the theatres, which had been closed for
-over twenty years, reopened, the costumes and scenery
-being now on an elaborate scale never contemplated
-before; women—a daring innovation—appeared in
-the women’s rôles; the King and his brother patronised
-the play-houses with all the young bloods of the court;
-coaches clattered through the streets of London, yes,
-even on a Sunday. There is, of course, another side
-to the picture—the sullen disapproval of the serious-minded,
-the squalor of a London shortly to be rotted
-by plague and terribly purified by fire—but with this
-side we have in the present connection no concern. We
-are in the gay upper stratum of prosperity and fashion,
-fortunate in the extraordinary vividness of our
-visualisation; we know not only the principal characters,
-but also the crowd of “supers” pressing behind
-them; we know their comings and goings, their
-intrigues, their rivalries, their amusements, the names
-of their mistresses. We are now at Whitehall, now at
-Epsom, now at Tunbridge Wells, now at Richmond.
-We are, indeed, very deeply in Pepys’ debt.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>In this world, therefore, so intimately familiar to
-any reader of the great diarist, Lord Buckhurst moves
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>noisily with Rochester and Buckingham, Etherege and
-Sedley, “the first gentleman,” says Horace Walpole,
-“of the voluptuous court of Charles II.” We are told
-that he refused the King’s offers of employment in
-order to enjoy his pleasures with the greater freedom,
-or, as he himself wrote with much frankness:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>May knaves and fools grow rich and great,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And the world think them wise,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>While I lie dying at her feet</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And all the world despise.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Let conquering Kings new triumphs raise,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And melt in court delights:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Her eyes can give much brighter days,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Her arms much softer nights.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>This did not prevent him from enrolling as a
-volunteer in the Dutch war of 1665, when he was
-present at a naval battle, and when the song which he
-was reported to have written on the eve of the engagement
-was brought to London and bandied from mouth
-to mouth about the town. Dr. Johnson shows himself
-sceptical as to this picturesque legend of the origin of
-the verses. “Seldom is any splendid story wholly
-true,” he observes; and continues, “I have heard from
-the Earl of Orrery, that Lord Buckhurst had been a
-week employed upon it, and only re-touched, or
-finished it, on the memorable evening.” However this
-may be, both song and story remain: I have told the
-story, and quote the song:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>To all you ladies now at land</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>We men at sea indite;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But first would have you understand</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>How hard it is to write:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The Muses now, and Neptune too,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>We must implore to write to you,</em></div>
- <div class='line in4'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span><em>For though the Muses should prove kind</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And fill our empty brain,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>To wave the azure main,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Our paper, pen and ink, and we,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Roll up and down our ships at sea,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Then if we write not by each post,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Think not we are unkind;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Nor yet conclude our ships are lost</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>By Dutchman or the wind:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Our tears we’ll send a speedier way,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The tide shall bring them twice a day,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>The King with wonder and surprise</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Will swear the seas grow bold,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Because the tides will higher rise</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Than e’er they did of old:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But let him know it is our tears</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Bring floods of grief to Whitehall stairs,<a id='r9' /><a href='#f9' class='c020'><sup>[9]</sup></a></em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Should foggy Opdam chance to know</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Our sad and dismal story,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And quit their fort at Goree;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For what resistance can they find</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>From men who’ve left their hearts behind?—</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Let wind and weather do its worst,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Be you to us but kind,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>No sorrow we shall find:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>’Tis then no matter how things go,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Or who’s our friend, or who’s our foe,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span><em>To pass our tedious hours away</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>We throw a merry main,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Or else at serious ombre play;</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>But why should we in vain</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Each other’s ruin thus pursue?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>We were undone when we left you,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>But now our fears tempestuous grow</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And cast our hopes away;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Whilst you, regardless of our woe,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Sit careless at a play;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Perhaps permit some happier man</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>When any mournful tune you hear</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>That dies in every note</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>As if it sighed with each man’s care</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>For being so remote,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Think then how often love we’ve made</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To you, when all those tunes were played,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>In justice you cannot refuse</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>To think of our distress,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>When we for hopes of honour lose</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Our certain happiness:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>All those designs are but to prove</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Ourselves more worthy of your love,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>And now we’ve told you all our loves,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And likewise all our fears.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>In hopes this declaration moves</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Some pity for our tears:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Let’s hear of no inconstancy,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>We have too much of that at sea—</em></div>
- <div class='line in4'><em>With a fa, la, la, la, la.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>With this song—which is really very good of its
-kind, and, I think, deserves its fame—Pepys says that
-he “occasioned much mirth,” although at the time of
-repeating it he was under the impression that it was
-written by three authors in collaboration. It seems to
-have achieved popularity, and was set to music, also
-a parody was written of it by Lord Halifax under the
-title “The New Court: Being an Excellent New Song
-to an old Tune of ‘To all you Ladies now at hand’
-by the Earl of Dorset,” and of which the following is
-the opening verse:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>To all you Tories far from Court</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>We Courtiers now in play</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Do write, to tell you how we sport</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And laugh the hours away.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The King, the Turks, the Prince, and all</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Attend with us each Feast and Ball.</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With a fa</em>, etc.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>It is shortly after this battle that Nell Gwyn first
-appears in Lord Buckhurst’s life. London’s two
-theatres—the Duke’s Theatre, near Lincoln’s Inn
-Fields, and the King’s Theatre, or, more familiarly,
-The Theatre, in Drury Lane—were then the great
-new resort and amusement, from the King and his
-brother in their boxes down to the rabble in the pit.
-Until the reign of Charles II the presence of the King
-in a common play-house was an unknown thing: such
-plays or masques as they had witnessed were always
-specially performed for them either in the halls or
-cock-pits of their palaces, but it now became the
-fashion for not only the King and the Duke of York,
-but also for the Queen to patronise the theatres. There
-were other innovations. The public was no longer satisfied
-with the makeshift scenery of pre-Commonwealth
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>days, which had too often consisted of a placard hung
-upon a nail, “<em>A wood</em>,” or “<em>A throne-room</em>,” or
-whatever it might be. Nor were the dresses of the
-actors as careless as they had formerly been, but
-patrons of the stage would give their old clothes, which,
-if shabby, were no doubt still sufficiently magnificent
-to produce their effect at a distance. Even a step
-further in progress was the appearance of women on
-the stage, “foul and undecent women now, and never
-till now, permitted to appear and act,” says Evelyn,
-full of indignation, “who, inflaming several young
-noblemen and gallants, became their misses and to
-some their wives, witness the Earl of Oxford, Sir R.
-Howard, Prince Rupert, the Earl of Dorset, and
-another greater person than any of them.” A theatre
-of that day must have been a noisy, ruffling, ill-lighted
-place. The ceiling immediately above the pit was
-either open to the sky or else inadequately covered
-over, so that in the event of rain the whole of the pit
-was apt to surge into the dry parts of the theatre. The
-ladies in the audience, especially if the performance
-happened to be a comedy, sat for the most part in
-masks. The sallow face of the King, framed by the
-heavy curls, leered down over the edge of a box. In
-the body of the theatre lounged the bucks of the
-town, exchanging pleasantry and impudence with the
-orange-girls who were so indispensable a feature.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>These orange-girls stood in the pit, crying
-“Oranges! will you have any oranges?” and were
-under the control of a superior known as Orange Moll,
-a famous figure of London theatre life. One may quote,
-to give some further idea of the relations between the
-young dandies and the orange-sellers, some of the
-stage directions in Shadwell’s <cite>True Widow</cite>, in the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>fourth act, laid in the Playhouse, “Several young coxcombs
-fool with the orange-women,” or “He sits
-down and lolls in the orange-wench’s lap,” or, “Raps
-people on the back and twirls their hats, and then looks
-demurely, as if he did not do it.” Amongst these girls,
-at the beginning of her career, was Nell Gwyn, of
-whom Rochester wrote:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>... <em>the basket her fair arm did suit,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Laden with pippins and Hesperian fruit;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>This first step raised, to the wondering pit she sold</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The lovely fruit smiling with streaks of gold</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>and who has come down to us as a figure full of disreputable
-charm, witty Nelly, pretty Nelly, Nelly
-whose foot was least of any woman’s in England, Nelly
-who paid the debts of those whom she saw being haled
-off to prison, Nelly the pert, the apt, the kind-hearted,
-Nelly who “continued to hang on her clothes with her
-usual negligence when she was the King’s mistress, but
-whatever she did became her.” This merry creature
-said of herself that she was brought up in a brothel and
-served strong waters to gentlemen: it is probable that
-she was born in the Coal Yard at Drury Lane (now
-Goldsmith Street), and, wherever she may have been
-brought up, at a very early age she joined the orange-girls
-at the King’s Theatre. In due time her looks and
-her wit attracted attention and she went on the stage.
-Pepys, who was evidently much taken with the “bold
-merry slut,” leaves a particularly charming record of
-her one May day:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>May 1st.</em> To Westminster, in the way meeting many
-milkmaids with their garlands upon their pails, dancing with
-a fiddler before them; and saw pretty Nelly standing at her
-lodgings door in Drury Lane in her smock sleeves and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>bodice, looking upon one; she seemed a mighty pretty
-creature.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>This being in May (1657), when Nell was sixteen, and
-had already been acting for at least two years, in July
-of the same year the diarist was told, which troubled
-him, that “my Lord Buckhurst hath got Nell away
-from the King’s House, and gives her £100 a year, so
-as she hath sent her parts to the house and will act no
-more.”</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c024'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>None ever had so strange an art</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>His passion to convey</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Into a listening virgin’s heart</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And steal her soul away</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c025'>was sung of Buckhurst. He was then twenty-seven or
-so, Nell Gwyn sixteen, and together they kept “merry
-house” at Epsom. Pepys went down to Epsom one
-day and heard reports of their merriments: he pitied
-Nelly, exclaiming, “Poor girl!” and pitied still more
-her loss to the King’s Theatre; but he does not expressly
-state whether he saw the pair or not. In any
-case, the housekeeping at Epsom did not continue for
-very long, for by August she was again acting in
-London, and Pepys had “a great deal of discourse with
-Orange Moll, who tells us that Nell is already left by
-my Lord Buckhurst, and that he makes sport of her,
-and swears she hath had all she could get of him.” It
-would appear from this that Buckhurst, contrary to
-what has been said of him, did not sell Nell Gwyn to
-the King, for even Pepys, who would surely have been
-among the first and best informed, does not mention
-the King having “sent for Nelly” until January of
-the following year. I hope, therefore, that the charges
-of his having accepted bribes in exchange for Nelly
-may be exploded. A great many things were whispered—that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>he had been promised the peerage of Middlesex,
-that he had been given a thousand pounds a year, that
-he had been sent on “a sleeveless errand” into France
-to leave the coast clear for the King, that he refused
-to give her up until he had been repaid for all the
-expenses she had entailed upon him. I do not think
-that such a Jewish spirit is at all in keeping with the
-rest of his character as we know it, with his generosity
-and general lavishness, nor does it seem probable
-that he would so have bargained with a king whose
-favour he was anxious to retain. By 1669 it is certain
-that Nell was definitely the King’s mistress and all
-connection with Buckhurst over. But we find that
-years afterwards the house called Burford House, at
-Windsor, is granted by Charles II to Charles, Earl of
-Dorset and Middlesex, W. Chaffinch, Esq., and others,
-in trust for Ellen Gwyn for life, with remainder to the
-Earl of Burford, the King’s natural son, in tail male;
-further, among the Knole papers is the original deed
-of 1683 appointing Lord Dorset her trustee and
-trustee to her son by Charles II; and, dated 1678,
-there is an allusion to her former lover in one of Nell’s
-infrequent and ill-spelt letters: “My lord Dorseit
-apiers worze in thre months, for he drinks aile with
-Shadwell and Mr. Haris at the Duke’s house all day
-long.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>Nell Gwyn thus passed out of Lord Buckhurst’s life,
-which she had so briefly entered, a well-assorted pair,
-I think, in every respect—he, idle, spoilt, heavy and
-magnificent; she, coarse, witty, feminine. There is a
-portrait of her at Knole, which I suppose was acquired
-by him, and I once happened to see a set of spoons in
-a loan exhibition which were catalogued as bearing the
-arms of Sackville with those of Nell Gwyn. The
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>Sackville shield was correct enough, but whether the
-other quarterings were the arms of Gwyn, or whether
-indeed the orange-girl was entitled to any heraldic
-device, I am, of course, unable to say.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c017'>Pomp, wealth, and infirmities now began to take the
-place of brilliant youth and comparative irresponsibility.
-The frivolous Lord Buckhurst became Earl of
-Dorset and Middlesex, he succeeded to the estates of
-the Cranfields, he married, he was made Lord Chamberlain,
-he was given the Garter, and he had a fit of
-apoplexy in the King’s bedroom. In order to recover
-his health he went abroad; his passport is at Knole, on
-yellow parchment, with the King’s signature at the top:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Charles the <em>Second</em> by the Grace of God, etc., to all
-admirals, vice-admirals, captains of our ships at sea,
-governors, commanders, soldiers, mayors, sheriffs, justices
-of the peace, bailiffs, constables, customers, controllers,
-searchers, and all other our loving subjects whom it may
-concern, greeting:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>Whereas</em> our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin
-<span class='sc'>Charles</span> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset <em>and</em> Middlesex hath desired our
-licence to go beyond the seas for recovery of his health, we
-are graciously pleased to condescend thereunto, and accordingly
-our will and pleasure is, and we do hereby require,
-that you permit and suffer the said Charles Earl of Dorset
-and Middlesex with six servants by name Richard Raphael,
-Robert Pennock, Thomas Bridges, —— Solomon, John
-Carter, and Christopher Garner, also forty pounds in money,
-and all baggage, utensils, carriages, and necessaries to the
-said Earl belonging, freely to embark in any of our ports and
-from thence to pass beyond the seas without any let,
-hindrance, or molestation whatsoever. And you are likewise
-to permit the said Earl and his servants at their return
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>back into this Kingdom to pass with like freedom, into the
-same, affording them [as there may be occasion] all requisite
-aid and furtherance as well going as returning. And for so
-doing this shall be your warrant.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>Given at our court at Windsor, the 23rd day of <em>August</em>
-1681, in the three and thirtieth year of our reign.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c023'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>By his Ma<sup>ty’s</sup> Command,</div>
- <div class='line in18'><span class='fss'>L. JENKINS</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is also a letter from one of the servants mentioned
-in the passport, saying that they had had a good
-passage to Dieppe, “except Mr. Raphael, who was
-kind to ye fishes.”</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>There is another letter, from the Mr. Raphael in
-question, written home to Robert Pennock from Paris
-while on the same journey, saying that his Lordship
-wants the pond finished against the spring, orders the
-gardener to manure all the trees, and wishes Pennock
-to obtain a sure-footed nag, as his Lordship intends
-for the future only to make use of a saddle-horse
-between Copt Hall and London to prevent the pain
-of the gravel, of which infirmity his Lordship has
-lately been much troubled.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>About this time he married. I have in my hands one
-of his love-letters, in faded ink; there is no date, no
-beginning, and no signature: it is superscribed “for
-the Countess of Falmouth,” and enclosed is a lock of
-reddish-brown hair—most dead and poignant token—of
-surprising length when one considers the heavy wig
-which was to be worn over it.</p>
-
-<p class='c019'>I must beg leave that we may be a little earlier than
-ordinary at Hick’s hall to-day, for to-morrow, i may be so
-miserable as not to see you; besides i am in pain till i can
-clear some doubts that have kept me waking all night;
-something i observed in your looks which shewed you had
-been displeased, at what i dare not ask; but till i know
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>i must suffer the torment of uncertain guessing; though
-i am pretty well assured i could not be concerned in it
-[more than in the trouble it gave you]; being so perfectly
-yours, that it will of necessity be counted your own fault
-if ever i offend you, since ’tis you alone have the government
-not only of all my actions but of my very thoughts, to confirm
-you in the belief of this truth i do from this moment
-give up to you all my pretences to freedom or any power
-over myself, and though you may justly think it below you to
-be owned the sovereign of so mean a dominion as my heart,
-i have yet confidence upon my knees to offer it you; since
-never any prince could boast of so clear a title, and so
-absolute power, as you shall ever possess in it.</p>
-
-<p class='c018'>We know a good deal about Lord Dorset’s expenses
-and finances. We know that on the death of his
-mother he obtained an additional income of £1744
-14<em>s.</em> 11<em>d.</em> a year from her estates. We know that
-thirty-four houses in the Strand were granted to him,
-and let as follows:</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>23 houses at from £6 to £65 each</td>
- <td class='c022'>950</td>
- <td class='c022'>7</td>
- <td class='c010'>1</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>3 houses built by him and let at £90 each</td>
- <td class='c022'>270</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c010'><hr /></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c033'>Total</td>
- <td class='c022'>£1220</td>
- <td class='c022'>7</td>
- <td class='c010'>1</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c025'>We know that twenty-four tenements east of Somerset
-House were granted to him for ninety-nine years at
-a yearly rent of £24 10<em>s.</em> 4<em>d.</em>—and that out of them he
-should have made £1768 a year, as witness the list
-I reproduce, taken from a manuscript at Knole, but
-either he or his bailiff must disgracefully have neglected
-his business, for on Lord Dorset’s death many rents
-were found to be in arrear, one tenant’s yearly rent
-of £30 having accumulated to the sum of £235 5<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>,
-or nearly eight years’ owing, and another rent of
-£17 18<em>s.</em> 4<em>d.</em> had accumulated to arrears of £111
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>19<em>s.</em> 10½<em>d.</em> His servants’ accounts, too, were in a state
-of confusion, and some of the wages unpaid up to three
-years.</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c033'><em>Signs</em></th>
- <th class='c034' colspan='3'><em>Rent</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c035'>£</th>
- <th class='c035'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c034'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Rising Sun</td>
- <td class='c022'>64</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>7 Stars and King’s Arms</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>110</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Surgeon’s Arms</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Golden Ball</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Golden Key</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Mitre</td>
- <td class='c022'>90</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>3 Golden [?]</td>
- <td class='c022'>90</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Black Lion</td>
- <td class='c022'>90</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Golden Fleece</td>
- <td class='c022'>40</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Golden [?]</td>
- <td class='c022'>48</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Two Cats</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>70</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Hen and Chicken</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Spread Eagle, a Bath house</td>
- <td class='c022'>40</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>13</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>3 Black Lions</td>
- <td class='c022'>60</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Angel</td>
- <td class='c022'>70</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>55</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Dorset Arms Tavern</td>
- <td class='c022'>140</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Swan</td>
- <td class='c022'>33</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>55</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Bull Head Tavern</td>
- <td class='c022'>24</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Dial</td>
- <td class='c022'>34</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Ship and Bale</td>
- <td class='c022'>34</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The Peacock</td>
- <td class='c022'>8</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c010'><hr /></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>1768</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c018'>His total income for the year 1698–99 was £7650
-4<em>s.</em> 3½<em>d.</em>—the curious accuracy of these sums does not
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>seem to tally with the confusion to which I have
-referred—that is to say, about £40,000 of modern
-money. It may be interesting, while on this subject, to
-show some of the means common among the great
-nobles for filling their pockets. In 1697, for instance,
-we read that “My Lord Chamberlain Dorset has sold
-the keepership of Greenwich Park to the Earl of
-Romney” [James Vernon to Matthew Prior], and in
-the same year—this is when he was getting on in years
-and entirely withdrawing from politics—“Lord Dorset
-hath resigned his office of Lord Chamberlain to the
-Earl of Sunderland for the sum of ten thousand
-pounds,” but where was this sum to come from? not
-out of Lord Sunderland’s pocket; no, but “<em>which his
-Majesty pays</em>.” There was yet another method by
-which money might conveniently be raised: it is well
-illustrated by Dorset’s petition regarding the dues on
-tobacco:</p>
-
-<p class='c019'><em>To the King’s most Ex<sup>t</sup> Ma<sup>ty</sup></em></p>
-
-<p class='c019'>The humble Petition of <span class='fss'>CHARLES</span> Earl <em>of</em> Middlesex.</p>
-<p class='c036'>Humbly Sheweth</p>
-<p class='c036'>That by the act [for preventing planting of tobacco in
-England and for regulating the Plantation Trade] all
-ships that shall return from any of yr Maj<sup>ties</sup> foreign
-plantations and not return to yr Maj<sup>ties</sup> Kingdom of
-England, Dominion of Wales or Town of Berwick
-upon Tweed, and there pay the customs and duties&nbsp;... shall be confisable and their bonds forfeited.
-That the <cite>Phenix</cite> of London, Richard Pidgeon Commander
-and several other ships have&nbsp;... discharged
-merchandizes of the growth of yr Maj<sup>ties</sup> Plantations,
-in yr Kingdom of Ireland, so that by law they are forfeited
-as by the said Act produceable may appear.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>May it therefore please yr Sacred Maj<sup>ty</sup> to grant
-yr Petitioner all forfeitures as well past as to come on
-accompt of the said Act, with power to depute such
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>persons as he shall think fitting, to look upon and take
-care that no such abuses shall be in ye future.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>[<em>Knole MSS.</em> 1671.]</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c018'>To this petition I should like to add another, representing
-the other point of view, that of the unfortunate
-people who had the King’s soldiers quartered upon
-them in intolerable numbers, and were, as it appears,
-not refunded for the expenses to which they had been
-put. I add this the more willingly, as Dorset was
-commonly reputed the friend of the poor, and it is said
-of him that “crowds of poor daily thronged his gates,
-expecting thence their bread. The lazy and the sick,
-as he accidentally saw them, were removed from the
-street to the physician, and not only cured but supplied
-with what might enable them to resume their former
-calling. The prisoner has often been released by my
-Lord’s paying the debt, and the condemned been
-pardoned, through his intercession with the sovereign.”</p>
-
-<p class='c039'><em>To</em> the Right Hon<sup>ble</sup> <span class='fss'>CHARLES</span> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset <em>and</em>
-Middlesex.</p>
-
-<p class='c040'>The humble petition of the Innholders and Alehouse
-Keepers in the parish of Sevenoaks in the county of Kent,
-Humbly Sheweth,</p>
-
-<p class='c040'>That your said petitioners have every year since ye
-coming of his present Majesty had either foot or horse
-quartered on them, even much beyond their neighbours&nbsp;... The said innkeepers are willing to serve
-their King and Country, but beyond their ability cannot,
-they therefore humbly pray that care may be taken
-for procuring their arrears due, or at least to prevent
-more soldiers coming on them, which they understand
-are, unless your Honour will stand in the gap&nbsp;...</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c041'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>[<em>Knole MSS.</em>]</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>Some of the foregoing papers, then, account for his
-income; we have also some notes as to his expenses.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>To his servants he paid £8 to £10 a year for “ordinary
-men and maids.” For beef he paid 2<em>s.</em> a stone; for
-mutton, 3<em>d.</em> a pound; pullets were 6<em>d.</em> each; a goose
-was 1<em>s.</em> 8<em>d.</em>; a pheasant, 1<em>s.</em>; a hare, 8<em>d.</em>; a tongue, 1<em>s.</em>;
-a partridge, 9<em>d.</em>; a pigeon, 3<em>d.</em>; a turkey, 2<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>; a
-calf’s head, 1<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em> A bushel of oysters cost him
-4<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>; a peck of damsons, 1<em>s.</em> Wheat cost him 7<em>s.</em> a
-bushel; salt, 5<em>s.</em> a bushel. For 130 walnuts he paid
-1<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>, and for a dozen candles 5<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em>—a surprising
-price. We have also a detailed account of his cellar.
-For strong beer he paid 35<em>s.</em> a hogshead, and for
-small beer 10<em>s.</em> a hogshead. From July 1690 to
-November 1691 his total wine bill amounted to
-£598 19<em>s.</em> 4<em>d.</em>, an alarming sum when we reflect that
-he was paying only 5<em>s.</em> 1<em>d.</em> for a gallon of red port,
-6<em>s.</em> 8<em>d.</em> for a gallon of sherry, and 8<em>s.</em> for a gallon of
-canary. We are given the details entered in the cellar
-from August 1690 to January 1691; they are sufficiently
-formidable: 425 gallons of red port, 85 gallons
-of sherry, 72 gallons of canary, 63 gallons of white
-port, and a quart of hock. One wonders whether Lord
-Dorset was “laying down,” or whether this quantity
-was adequate only to the six months shown on the
-account book.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Lord Dorset seems to have carried large sums of
-money about on his person, for the steward’s account
-book at Knole shows a regular daily entry of 10<em>s.</em> for
-loose change to his Lordship, and when he was set
-upon by footpads near Tyburn they robbed him not
-only of his gold George, but also of forty or fifty
-pounds. This does not perhaps seem a very enormous
-sum for a wealthy man to carry, but it must always be
-remembered that in order to obtain the modern
-equivalent it is necessary to multiply by at least five.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>Before leaving the Knole papers of this date—and
-there is much that I have regretfully discarded, many
-letters, for instance, regarding the election of Lord
-Buckhurst to the House of Commons, which throw
-interesting sidelights upon the methods of electioneering
-in the early days of Charles II—I should like to
-quote one letter of unknown authorship, relating to
-the Rye House Plot. The letter is addressed to Lord
-Dorset: it is unsigned and undated, but the date must
-be placed, by virtue of internal evidence, in July 1683,
-by reason of the reference to Captain Walcot who was
-tried on July 12th in connection with the plot.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The party that went for my Lord Essex found him in his
-garden gathering of nut-meg peaches, he was lodged in my
-Lord Feversham’s lodgings, in Whitehall, and the next day,
-having not made use of the favour of pen and ink, so well
-as my Lord Howard hath, he was sent to the Tower.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>My Lord Howard runs like a spout, fresh, and fresh he
-hath writ enough to hang himself, and 1 hundred more, and
-cried enough to drown himself, he hath cast his lodgings in
-Whitehall.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Sir John Burlace was brought before the Council yesterday,
-upon sending intelligence to my Lord Lovelace that
-there was a warrant against him. He stayed one night in the
-messenger’s hands and was this morning bail for my Lord
-Lovelace, and both of them dismissed.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The enclosed is an account how far the Grand Jury hath
-proceeded, that little note hath the names of some of the
-Grand Jury.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>None were tried this afternoon but Capt. Walcot who was
-cast by a most clear evidence being at several consults, the
-places all named, his raising of arms, his own letter to the
-King, and one of the consults was at the Vulture, Ludgate
-Hill, and Sheppard’s House, he had very little to say for
-himself, but that the witnesses swore away his life to secure
-their own, he excepted against all Jury men that were of the
-lieutenancy and behaved himself with a great deal of decency
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>and resolution. They had a declaration ready drawn by
-Goodenough so soon as ever the King was killed, and
-particular men appointed to murder the most considerable
-persons. Borne by name was to kill this Lord Keeper, and
-refused it because it looked like an unneighbourly thing, my
-Lord pulled off his hat and said Thank you, neighbour.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>I find also, dated 1690, this curious vocabulary of
-thieves’ slang scribbled on the back of some particulars
-relating to the appointment of a new incumbent
-for Sevenoaks. Unfortunately half the alphabet is
-missing:</p>
-
-<table class='table4' summary=''>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>Autem mort</td>
- <td class='c043'>a marryed woman</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>Abram</td>
- <td class='c043'>naked</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>abram-cour</td>
- <td class='c043'>a tatterdemalion</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>autem</td>
- <td class='c043'>a church</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>boughar</td>
- <td class='c043'>a cur</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bouse</td>
- <td class='c043'>drink</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bousing-ken</td>
- <td class='c043'>an ale-house</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>borde</td>
- <td class='c043'>a shilling</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>boung</td>
- <td class='c043'>a purse</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bing</td>
- <td class='c043'>to goe</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bing a wast</td>
- <td class='c043'>to goe away</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bube</td>
- <td class='c043'>ye pox</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>buge</td>
- <td class='c043'>a dog</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bleating-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>a sheep</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>billy-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>an apron</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bite ye peter or Roger</td>
- <td class='c043'>steal ye portmantle</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>budge</td>
- <td class='c043'>one that steals cloaks</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>bulk and file</td>
- <td class='c043'>a pickpocket and his mate</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cokir</td>
- <td class='c043'>a lyar</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cuffin quire</td>
- <td class='c043'>a justice</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>crampings</td>
- <td class='c043'>bolts and shackles</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>chats</td>
- <td class='c043'>ye gallows</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>crackmans</td>
- <td class='c043'>hedges</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>calle<br />togeman<br />Joseph</td>
- <td class='c043'>a cloak</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>couch</td>
- <td class='c043'>to lye asleep</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>couch a hogshead</td>
- <td class='c043'>to goe to sleep</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>commission<br />mish</td>
- <td class='c043'>a shirt</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cackling-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>a chicken</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cassan</td>
- <td class='c043'>cheese</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>crash</td>
- <td class='c043'>to kill</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>crashing-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>teeth</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cloy</td>
- <td class='c043'>to steal</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cut</td>
- <td class='c043'>to speak</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cut bien whydds</td>
- <td class='c043'>to speak well</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cut quire whydds</td>
- <td class='c043'>to speak evill</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>confeck</td>
- <td class='c043'>counterfeit</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>cly ye jerk</td>
- <td class='c043'>to be whipt</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>dimber</td>
- <td class='c043'>pretty</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>damber</td>
- <td class='c043'>rascall</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>drawers</td>
- <td class='c043'>stockings</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>duds</td>
- <td class='c043'>goods</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>deusea vile</td>
- <td class='c043'>ye country</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>dommerer</td>
- <td class='c043'>a madman</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>darkmans</td>
- <td class='c043'>night or even</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>dup</td>
- <td class='c043'>to enter</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>tip me my earnest</td>
- <td class='c043'>give me my part</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>filch</td>
- <td class='c043'>a staffe</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>ferme</td>
- <td class='c043'>a hole</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>fambles</td>
- <td class='c043'>hands</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>fambles cheats</td>
- <td class='c043'>rings and gloves</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>fib</td>
- <td class='c043'>to beat</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>flag</td>
- <td class='c043'>a groat</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>fogus</td>
- <td class='c043'>tobacco</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>fencing cully</td>
- <td class='c043'>one that receives stolne goods</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>glimmer</td>
- <td class='c043'>fire</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>glaziers</td>
- <td class='c043'>eyes</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>granna</td>
- <td class='c043'>corne</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>gentry more</td>
- <td class='c043'>a gallant wench</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>gun</td>
- <td class='c043'>lip</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>gage</td>
- <td class='c043'>a pot or pipe</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>grunting-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>a sucking pig</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>giger</td>
- <td class='c043'>a dore</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>gybe</td>
- <td class='c043'>a passe</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>glasier</td>
- <td class='c043'>one that goes in at windows</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>gilt</td>
- <td class='c043'>a picklock</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>harmanbeck</td>
- <td class='c043'>a constable</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>heave a book</td>
- <td class='c043'>to rob a house</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>half berd</td>
- <td class='c043'>sixpence</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>heartsease</td>
- <td class='c043'>20 shillings</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>knapper of knappers</td>
- <td class='c043'>a sheep stealer</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>lightmans</td>
- <td class='c043'>morning or day</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>lib</td>
- <td class='c043'>to tumble</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>libben</td>
- <td class='c043'>an house</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>lage</td>
- <td class='c043'>water</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>libedge</td>
- <td class='c043'>a bed</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>lullabye-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>a child</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>lap</td>
- <td class='c043'>pottage</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>lucries</td>
- <td class='c043'>all manner of clothes</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>maunder</td>
- <td class='c043'>to beg</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>magery prater</td>
- <td class='c043'>an hen</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>muffling-cheat</td>
- <td class='c043'>a napkin</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>mumpers</td>
- <td class='c043'>gentile beggars<a id='r10' /><a href='#f10' class='c020'><sup>[10]</sup></a></td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iv</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>In 1685 Charles II died, and with him departed that
-devil-may-care existence into which Lord Dorset had
-fitted so readily and so well. He was no favourite with
-the new King; for one thing he had addressed verses
-in this vein to Lady Dorchester, mistress of James II:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Tell me, Dorinda, why so gay,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Why such embroidery, fringe, and lace?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Can any dresses find a way</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To stop th’ approaches of decay,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And mend a ruined face?</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Wilt thou still sparkle in the box,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Still ogle in the ring?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Canst thou forget thy age and pox?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Can all that shines on shells and rocks</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Make thee a fine young thing?</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>He appears also at this time to have grown more
-serious in his outlook, for he disapproved of the new
-King so strongly as to have taken an active part in the
-accession of William III to the English throne. He
-was instrumental, indeed, in arranging the escape of
-Princess (afterwards Queen) Anne:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That evening [<em>says Macaulay</em>] Anne retired to her
-chamber as usual. At dead of night she rose, and, accompanied
-by her friend Sarah [Churchill] and two other female
-attendants, stole down the back stairs in a dressing-gown and
-slippers. The fugitives gained the open street unchallenged.
-A hackney coach was in waiting for them there. Two men
-guarded the humble vehicle. One of them was Compton,
-Bishop of London, the princess’ old tutor; the other was the
-magnificent and accomplished Dorset, whom the extremity
-of the public danger had roused from his luxurious repose.
-The coach drove instantly to Aldersgate Street&nbsp;... there
-the princess passed the night. On the following morning she
-set out for Epping Forest. In that wild tract [it is amusing
-to think of Epping as a wild tract]—in that wild tract Dorset
-possessed a venerable mansion [Copt Hall], the favourite
-resort, during many years, of wits and poets&nbsp;...</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>but Macaulay was evidently not in possession of, or
-else ignored (although it is difficult to believe that the
-incident would not have tempted his picturesque and
-vivid pen), the detail related by Dorset’s grandson, Lord
-George Sackville, that</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>one of her Royal Highness’ shoes sticking fast in the mud,
-the accident threatened to impede her escape; but Lord
-Dorset, immediately drawing off his white glove, put it on
-the Princess’ foot, and placed her safely in the carriage.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>That Lord Dorset had no sympathy with popery is
-proved by this letter, which is among the Duke of
-Rutland’s papers:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>Lord Dorset last night [27th January 1688] while at
-supper at Lady Northampton’s, received the following letter
-with cross on top:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c046'>
- <div><span class='large'>+</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c047'>’Twere pity that one of the best of men should be lost
-for the worst of causes. Do not sacrifice a life everybody
-values for a religion yourself despise. Make your peace
-with your lawful sovereign, or know that after this 27th
-of January you have not long to live. Take this warning
-from a friend before repentance is in vain;</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>and it is apparent that he had not lost touch with his
-old friends of the Court of Charles II, for we find, in
-1688, that he placed Knole at the disposal of the Queen
-Dowager (Catherine of Braganza),</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>without any consideration of rent, besides the sole use of his
-park, and if she makes any alterations to have timber out
-of his woods for that purpose. The Queen Dowager will
-consider the repairs of the Lord Dorset’s house, which will
-amount to £20,000.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>But whether she availed herself of the offer, for however
-short a period, I cannot say.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Lord Dorset was in favour with William III, and
-continued to hold his office of Lord Chamberlain until
-he resigned it in 1697. This was the date when he
-withdrew from all public life. His second wife had
-died six years before; Dorset himself was approaching
-sixty, and the excesses of his youth had long since
-begun to tell. The end of a life which opened with
-such gaiety and <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">éclat</span></i> offers a very sordid picture.
-From his portraits it is easy to see that he has grown
-heavy and apoplectic: his features are coarsened and
-swollen; his double chins hang in folds over his
-voluminous robes, his ruffles, and his ribbons. He
-could not hope to enjoy his life at both ends. Those
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>must have been good days when he got drunk with
-Sedley, or kept house with Nelly at Epsom, or exchanged
-witticisms with the King in the passages at
-Whitehall, or sat after supper round the dining-room
-table at Knole with Dryden and Killigrew and
-Rochester; but after running up the account the debt
-had to be paid at last. It was all very well for Prior,
-who owed him everything, to get gracefully out of a
-difficulty by saying that he drivelled better sense than
-most men could talk: the remainder of the account is
-not pretty to contemplate. “A few years before he
-died,” is the story told by his grandson, Lord George
-Sackville, “he married a woman named Roche of very
-obscure connections, who held him in a sort of
-captivity down at Bath, where he expired at about
-sixty-nine.” There is a contemporary letter, which
-says, “My Lord Dorset owns his marriage with one
-of his acquaintances, one of the Roches. Do you think
-anyone will pity him?” “She suffered few persons
-to approach him during his last illness, or rather,
-decay,” Lord George’s account continues, “and was
-supposed to have converted his weakness of mind to
-her own objects of personal acquisition. He was indeed
-considered to be fallen into a state of such imbecility as
-would render it necessary to appoint guardians, with a
-view to prevent his injuring the family estate, but the
-intention was nevertheless abandoned. You have no
-doubt heard, and it is a fact, that with a view of ascertaining
-whether Lord Dorset continued to be of a sane
-mind, Prior, whom he had patronised and always
-regarded with predilection, was sent down to Bath by
-the family.” Having obtained access to the Earl, and
-conversed with him, Prior made his report in these
-words, “Lord Dorset is certainly greatly declined in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>his understanding, but he <em>drivels</em> so much better sense
-even now than any other man can <em>talk</em>, that you must
-not call me into court as a witness to prove him an
-idiot.” Congreve, appropriating the gist of the remark,
-observed after visiting Dorset on his deathbed, “Faith,
-he slabbers more wit dying than other people do in
-their best health.” Swift also, who was an intimate
-friend of Lady Betty Germaine and the Dorsets in the
-succeeding generation, remarks that Charles grew dull
-in his old age. Ann Roche, who guarded so jealously
-her ancient and mouldy bird of Paradise, managed to
-provide handsomely for herself under his will. He left
-her not only the house in Stable Yard, St. James, which
-was hers before her marriage, but also lands and
-messuages in Sussex, two beds with the furniture thereunto
-belonging in his house at Knole, the furniture of
-two rooms there, all the household linen there, and
-£500 to be increased to £20,000 if his son should die
-without issue. The marriage only lasted a short time,
-for in 1705 Lord Dorset died—old, enfeebled, and semi-imbecile.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>It is not surprising to learn that he left a number of
-illegitimate children: we know of at least four for certain,
-and there was probably a fifth, a son, as it is difficult to
-account otherwise for the William Sackville who writes,
-signing a remarkably ungrammatical letter with a remarkably
-beautiful signature, to ask for money, as he has
-lately “gained the affection of a young lady,” and this,
-he promises, will be “the last trouble that ever I shall
-give your Lordship; it would come very seasonable to
-my present circumstances who has been harassed and
-ruined by the fate of war this four years past and have
-done the government good service, and never rewarded
-as those that deserved it less has.” The other four were
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>daughters. There is a petition at Knole from one of
-them:</p>
-
-<p class='c036'><em>To</em> the Right Hon. <span class='fss'>CHARLES</span> Earl <em>of</em> Dorset <em>and</em>
-Middlesex, Lord Chamberlain of Their Majesties’ Household,
-the humble petition of <span class='fss'>MARY SACKVILLE</span>:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That it having pleased ye Almighty to lay his afflicting
-hand on your petitioner’s husband and her two small
-children for a long time together, having nothing to live
-upon but his own hands’ labour, which failing him during
-his sickness all his family have suffered thereby and been
-put to great straights and having received much of your
-Honour’s charity, is now&nbsp;... [<em>illegible</em>] but hopes that
-your Lordship will consider it is the hand of accident that
-is hard upon her.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Your petitioner therefore humbly prays that your Honour
-will be pleased to bestow something on her this time that
-she may undergo her calamity with a little more cheerfulness
-and alacrity.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>According to the will of this Mary Sackville, her
-circumstances must have improved, for she leaves
-£1000 “for the benefit of Katherine Sackville my
-sister or reputed sister who was born of the body of
-Mrs. Phillipa Waldgrave, deceased, my late mother or
-reputed mother.” This will is dated 1684, so I should
-think the Katherine Sackville referred to is probably
-the “K. S.” who was buried at Withyham, aged
-fourteen, in 1690—humble little initials among the
-Lady Annes and Lady Elizabeths who surround her.
-She had been provided for in Lord Dorset’s will also:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>To my natural daughter Katherine Sackville, <em>alias</em> Walgrave,
-£1000.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>To my natural daughter Mary Sackville, <em>alias</em> Walgrave,
-£200, and £2000 before settled on her.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>To my natural daughter An [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>] Lee, <em>alias</em> Sackville, the
-sum of £500.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>It thus seems probable that these daughters were the
-children of two different mothers, Lee and Walgrave,
-Waldgrave, Waldegrave, as it was variously spelt.
-An agreement at Knole, dated 1674, provides for
-Phillipa Walgrave to receive interest on £1000 placed
-in Mr. Guy’s hands by Lord Dorset, the interest on
-it to be paid to her yearly, and after her death to Mary
-Sackville until her marriage or until the age of 21, but
-if Mrs. Walgrave marries, the £1000 is to be paid to her.
-Another natural daughter, also named Mary, married
-Lord Orrery, but I do not know who was her mother.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ v</h3>
-
-<p class='c048'>He had been one of the most notorious libertines of the
-wild time which followed the Restoration. He had been the
-terror of the city watch, had passed many nights in the
-round house, and had at least once occupied a cell in Newgate.
-His passion for Nell Gwyn, who always called him her
-Charles the First, had given no small amusement and scandal
-to the town. Yet, in the midst of follies and vices, his
-courageous spirit, his fine understanding, and his natural
-goodness of heart, had been conspicuous. Men said that the
-excesses in which he indulged were common between him
-and the whole race of gay young Cavaliers, but that his
-sympathy with human suffering and the generosity with
-which he made reparation to those whom his freaks had
-injured were all his own. His associates were astonished by
-the distinction which the public made between him and them.
-“He may do what he chooses,” said Wilmot, “he is never
-in the wrong.” The judgment of the world became still
-more favourable to Dorset when he had been sobered by
-time and marriage. His graceful manners, his brilliant conversation,
-his soft heart, his open hand, were universally
-praised. No day passed, it was said, in which some distressed
-family had not reason to bless his name. And yet,
-with all his good nature, such was the keenness of his wit
-that scoffers whose sarcasm all the town feared stood in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>craven fear of the sarcasm of Dorset. All political parties
-esteemed and caressed him, but politics were not much to his
-taste. Had he been driven by necessity to exert himself, he
-would probably have risen to the highest posts in the state;
-but he was born to rank so high and to wealth so ample that
-many of the motives which impel men to engage in public
-affairs were wanting to him.... Like many other men
-who, with great natural abilities, are constitutionally and
-habitually indolent, he became an intellectual voluptuary,
-and a master of all those pleasing branches of knowledge
-which can be acquired without severe application. He was
-allowed to be the best judge of painting, of sculpture, of
-architecture, of acting, that the court could show. On
-questions of polite learning his decisions were regarded at all
-the coffee houses as without appeal. More than one clever
-play which had failed on the first representation was supported
-by his single authority against the whole clamour of
-the pit and came forth successful at the second trial....</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Macaulay thus summarises his career and character,
-and I am led quite naturally to the consideration of one
-aspect of his life on which I have scarcely touched, and
-that is his connection with the men of letters of his
-day. The often-quoted saying, that Butler owed to
-him that the court tasted his <cite>Hudibras</cite>, Wycherley
-that the town liked his <cite>Plain Dealer</cite>, and that the Duke
-of Buckingham deferred the publication of his
-<cite>Rehearsal</cite> until he was sure that Lord Buckhurst would
-not rehearse it upon him again—this saying had much
-truth in it. It is better, I think, to quote the disinterested
-opinion of Macaulay rather than the
-panegyrics of Prior or Dryden, or any of the contemporary
-authors who stood too greatly in Dorset’s
-debt for complete impartiality:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Such a patron of letters England had never seen [<em>says
-Macaulay</em>]. His bounty was bestowed with equal judgment
-and liberality, and was confined to no sect or faction. Men
-of genius, estranged from each other by literary jealousy or
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>difference of political opinion, joined in acknowledging his
-impartial kindness. Dryden owned that he had been saved
-from ruin by Dorset’s princely generosity. Yet Montague
-and Prior, who had keenly satirised Dryden, were introduced
-by Dorset into public life; and the best comedy of Dryden’s
-mortal enemy, Shadwell, was written at Dorset’s country
-seat. The munificent earl might, if such had been his wish,
-have been the rival of those of whom he was content to be
-the benefactor. For the verses which he occasionally composed,
-unstudied as they are, exhibit the traces of a genius
-which, assiduously cultivated, would have produced something
-great. In the small volume of his works may be found
-songs which have the easy vigour of Suckling, and little
-satires which sparkle with wit as splendid as those of Butler.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>One can, perhaps, scarcely agree with Macaulay in this
-estimate of Dorset’s literary gifts. The songs he wrote
-are little more than easy specimens of conventional
-Restoration verse, and, for my part, I fail to find in them,
-with the exception of “To all you ladies now at land,”
-any merit which was not shared by all the numerous
-song-writers of the day. It certainly cannot be claimed
-for him that he had any of the vigour, originality, or
-true poetic impulse of his great-great-grandfather, the
-old Lord Treasurer, and although it may be argued
-that the age of Elizabeth and the age of the Restoration
-differed totally in poetic conception and spontaneity,
-I still do not admit that Dorset possessed those qualities
-which might have made up in one direction for those
-which were lacking in another, I have already quoted
-his sea-song, unquestionably the best thing he ever
-wrote, and, to give point to my argument, will quote
-two further songs, which may stand as typical examples,
-the first of his graceful but entirely artificial talent, the
-second of his satire which caused Rochester to say of him:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>For pointed satire I would Buckhurst choose,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The best good man with the worst natured muse.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in20'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>SONG</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Phyllis, for shame, let us improve</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>A thousand different ways</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Those few short moments snatched by love</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>From many tedious days.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>If you want courage to despise</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The censure of the grave,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Though Love’s a tyrant in your eyes,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Your heart is but a slave.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>My love is full of noble pride</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Nor can it e’er submit</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To let that fop, Discretion, ride</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>In triumph over it.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>False friends I have, as well as you,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Who daily counsel me</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Fame and ambition to pursue</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>And leave off loving thee.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>But when the least regard I show</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>To fools who thus advise,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>May I be dull enough to grow</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Most miserably wise.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>To</em> <span class='fss'>CATHERINE SEDLEY</span> [married Sir David Colyear]</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in4'><em>Proud with the spoils of royal cully,</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>With false pretence to wit and parts,</em></div>
- <div class='line in4'><em>She swaggers like a battered bully</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>To try the tempers of men’s hearts.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in4'><em>Though she appear as glittering fine</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>As gems, and jets, and paints can make her,</em></div>
- <div class='line in4'><em>She ne’er can win a breast like mine:</em></div>
- <div class='line in6'><em>The Devil and Sir David take her.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>The fugitive character of his own verses does not,
-however, in any way detract from his splendour as a
-patron. It is well known that Matthew Prior as a boy
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>was found by him reading Horace in a tavern in Westminster,
-when, struck by his intelligence, Dorset sent
-the boy at his own expense to school until his election
-as King’s Scholar. Prior in after years did not forget
-this kindness. His poems are dedicated to the son of
-his earliest patron, and there are, as students of Prior
-will remember, several amongst them especially written
-to members of Dorset’s family, notably the “Lines
-to Lord Buckhurst [Dorset’s son] when playing with a
-cat.” The many letters from Prior to Lord Dorset,
-now in Lord Bath’s possession, testify to the endurance
-of their friendship: one of these letters ends with a
-poem, which I quote, as I am under the impression that
-it is not included in any edition of Prior’s works:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Spare Dorset’s sacred life, discerning Fate,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And Death shall march through camps and courts in state,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Emptying his quiver on the vulgar great:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Round Dorset’s board let Peace and Plenty dance,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Far off let Famine her sad reign advance,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And War walk deep in blood through conquered France.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Apollo thus began the mystic strain,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The Muses’ sons all bowed and said Amen.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>It is perhaps less commonly known that Dryden also
-owed, in another way, much to Dorset. The account is
-thus given by Macaulay:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Dorset became Lord Chamberlain, and employed his
-influence and patronage annexed to his functions, as he had
-long employed his private means, in encouraging genius and
-alleviating misfortune. One of the first acts which he was
-under the necessity of performing must have been painful to
-a man of so generous a nature, and of so keen a relish for
-whatever was excellent in arts and letters. Dryden could no
-longer remain Poet Laureate. The public would not have
-borne to see any papist among the servants of their Majesties;
-and Dryden was not only a papist, but an apostate. He
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>had, moreover, aggravated the guilt of his apostacy by
-calumniating and ridiculing the Church which he had deserted.
-He had, it was facetiously said, treated her as the pagan
-persecutors of old treated her children. He had dressed her
-up in the skin of a wild beast, and then baited her for the
-public amusement. He was removed; but he received
-from the private bounty of the magnificent Chamberlain a
-pension equal to the salary which had been withdrawn.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Dryden, apparently, despite this generosity, continued
-to lament his ill-fortune, and his contemporary Blackmore,
-in a poem called <cite>Prince Arthur</cite>, satirises him in
-the character of <cite>Laurus</cite> for his assiduity at Dorset’s
-doors—Dorset being the <cite>Sakil</cite> of the poem, Sackville
-in transparent disguise:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>The poets’ nation did obsequious wait</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For the kind dole divided at his gate.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Laurus among the meagre crowd appeared,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>An old, revolted, unbelieving bard,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Who thronged, and shoved, and pressed, and would be heard.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Sakil’s high roof, the Muses’ palace, rung</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With endless cries, and endless songs he sung.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To bless good Sakil Laurus would be first;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But Sakil’s prince and Sakil’s God he cursed.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Sakil without distinction threw his bread,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Despised the flatterer, but the poet fed.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>It is true that in his <cite>Essay on Satire</cite>, which, like his
-<cite>Essay on Dramatic Poetry</cite>, is dedicated in terms of the
-most outrageous flattery to Dorset, Dryden makes full
-acknowledgement of the obligation:</p>
-
-<p class='c036'>I must ever acknowledge, to the honour of your Lordship
-and the eternal memory of your charity, that, since this
-revolution, wherein I have patiently suffered the ruin of my
-small fortune, and the loss of that poor subsistence which
-I had from two kings, whom I had served more faithfully
-than profitably to myself; then your Lordship was pleased, out
-of no other motive but your own nobleness, without any desert
-of mine, or the least solicitation from me, to make me a most
-bountiful present, which at that time, when I was most in want
-of it, came most seasonably and unexpectedly to my relief.</p>
-<div id='i_148' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_148fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>THE BROWN GALLERY<br /><br /><em>Built by</em> <span class='sc'>Archbishop Bourchier</span> <em>in 1460</em></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'><span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>But I think there may be detected, even in this
-acknowledgment, the note of whining to which
-Macaulay, in the continuation of the passage I have
-quoted, draws attention. It is also related that Dryden,
-when dining with Dorset, found a hundred-pound note
-hidden under his plate. In a letter preserved at Knole,
-in Dryden’s beautiful handwriting, he makes further
-acknowledgement, after proffering a petition on behalf of
-a friend who wished to obtain rooms in Somerset House:</p>
-
-<p class='c036'>... if I had confidence enough, my Lord, I would presume to
-mind you of a favour which your Lordship formerly gave
-me some hopes of from the Queen; but if it be not proper
-or convenient for you to ask, I dare give your Lordship no
-further trouble in it, being on so many other accounts already
-your Lordship’s most obliged obedient servant,</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>JOHN DRYDEN</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>We know that Dryden was a constant visitor at
-Knole; we have even an anecdote of one of his visits.
-It is related that someone proposed that each member
-of the party should write an impromptu, and that
-Dryden, when the allotted time had expired, should
-judge between them. Silence ensued while each guest
-wrote busily, or laboriously, upon the sheet of paper
-provided: Dorset scribbled a couple of lines and threw
-it down on the table. At the end of the time the umpire
-rose, and said that after careful consideration he
-awarded the prize to their host; he would read out
-what his Lordship had written; it was: “I promise
-to pay Mr. John Dryden or order five hundred pounds
-on demand. DORSET.”</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>It would be interesting to know who were the other
-members of the party; perhaps Tom Durfey, perhaps
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>Lady Dorset, who is described as “jeune, belle, riche,
-et sage,” perhaps Rochester, whose portrait hangs in
-the Poets’ Parlour—and I imagine the Poets’ Parlour
-to have been the scene of this little incident, “a chamber
-of parts and players,” says Horace Walpole, “which is
-proper enough in that house”—a portrait of a young
-man in a heavy wig, labelled “died repentant after a
-profligate life,” as I, not understanding the long words,
-used to gabble off to strangers along with other piteous
-little shibboleths when showing the house. Certainly
-Shadwell was not there, for he and Dryden were at
-mortal enmity; Shadwell, his successor in the Laureateship,
-another friend and protégé of Dorset’s, described
-by Dryden as being</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Round as a globe, and liquored every chink,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Goodly and great, he sails behind his link.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For all this bulk there’s nothing lost in Og,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For every inch that is not fool is rogue</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>and who writes of Dorset that he was received by him
-as a member of his family, and furthermore, rather
-plaintively, in a letter at Knole, beseeching Lord
-Dorset’s intervention, as “they have put Durfey’s play
-before ours, and this day a play of Dryden’s is read to
-them and that is to be acted before ours too.”</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Tom Durfey, whose portrait is upstairs in Lady
-Betty’s room, painted in profile, with surely the most
-formidable of all hooked noses, was almost a pensioner at
-Knole, having his own rooms over the dairy, and is guilty
-of these execrable verses in praise of his second home:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in16'>THE GLORY OF KNOLE</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Knole most famous in Kent still appears,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Where mansions surveyed for a thousand long years,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>In whose domes mighty monarchs might dwell,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Where five hundred rooms are, as Boswell<a id='r11' /><a href='#f11' class='c020'><sup>[11]</sup></a> can tell!</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>I do not think that Durfey can have been very greatly
-esteemed by his patron, nor yet on very intimate terms
-with him, but kept rather, contemptuously, as permanent
-rhymester to Dorset’s little court, for another
-picture, small, obscure, but entertainingly intimate,
-shows him in humble company in the Steward’s Room
-with Lowry, the Steward; George Allan, a clothier;
-Mother Moss, whoever she may have been; Maximilian
-Buck, the chaplain; and one Jack Randall.
-His name is certainly not one of the most illustrious
-among the many poets and writers represented on the
-walls of the Poets’ Parlour—Edmund Waller, Matthew
-Prior, Thomas Flattman, John Dryden, William Congreve,
-William Wycherley, Thomas Otway, Thomas
-Hobbes, John Locke, Samuel Butler, Abraham Cowley,
-Nicholas Rowe, William Cartwright, Sir Kenelm
-Digby, Alexander Pope. And with this last name
-I come to the final tribute paid to the splendid Dorset—Pope’s
-epitaph upon his monument in the Sackville
-chapel at Withyham:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Dorset, the grace of courts, the Muses’ pride,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Patron of arts, and judge of nature, died.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The scourge of pride, though sanctified or great,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Of fops in learning, and of knaves in state:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Yet soft his nature, though severe his lay,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>His anger moral, and his wisdom gay.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Blest satirist! who touched the mean so true,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>As showed vice had his hate and pity too.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Blest courtier! who could King and country please,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Yet sacred kept his friendships and his ease.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Blest peer! his great forefather’s every grace</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Reflected and reflecting in his race,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Where other Buckhursts, other Dorsets shine,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And patriots still, or poets, deck the line.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII<br /> Knole in the Early Eighteenth Century<br /> LIONEL SACKVILLE<br /> <span class='large'>7th Earl <em>and</em> 1st<br /> Duke <em>of</em> Dorset</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c050'>The first duke of Dorset remains to me, in spite
-of much reading, but an indistinct figure. I do
-not know whether the fault is mine or his.
-Perhaps he was a man of little personality; certainly
-he was lacking in the charm of his scapegrace father or
-of his frivolous great-nephew, the third duke. And yet
-he is a personage of some solidity: weighty, Georgian
-solidity. The epithets chosen by his contemporaries to
-describe him are all concordant enough, “a man of
-dignity, caution, and plausibility,” “worthy, honest,
-good-natured,” “he preserved to the last the good
-breeding, decency of manner, and dignity of exterior
-deportment of Queen Anne’s time, never departing
-from his style of gravity and ceremony,” “a large-grown,
-full person,” and finally—the words come almost
-with the shock of being precisely what we were
-waiting for—“in spite of the greatest dignity in his
-appearance, he was in private the greatest lover of low
-humour and buffoonery.” He was fitted, if I piece
-together rightly my scraps of evidence, to lead the life
-of a country gentleman, performing his duty towards
-his county, entertaining his friends, enjoying with them
-after dinner the low humour to which he inclined,
-rolling out his laughter in the Poets’ Parlour, slapping
-his great thighs, and rejoining his wife afterwards in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>the spirit of affectionate domesticity which induced
-him to begin his letters to her “dear, dear, dear girl,”
-or “my dear, dear Colly.” He lived, says one account
-of him, after detailing his amiable qualities as a kind
-husband and father, “in great hospitality all his life,
-and he was so respected that when at Knole on
-Sundays the front of the house was so crowded with
-horsemen and carriages as to give it rather the appearance
-of a princely levee than the residence of a private
-nobleman.” It was his misfortune that he was not
-allowed to remain leading this kind of life so much to
-his taste: “the poor Duke of Dorset,” said Lord
-Shelburne, “was made by his son to commence
-politician at sixty.” The local offices which he held
-were well suited to his disposition and abilities; the
-titles of <em>Custos Rotulorum</em>, <em>Lord Lieutenant of Kent</em>,
-<em>Constable of Dover Castle</em>, and <em>Lord Warden of the
-Cinque Ports</em> sit admirably upon his rather provincial
-dignity. He could discharge these offices while surrounding
-himself with friends, and keeping open house
-at Knole. He was surely happy at Knole, with the
-duchess and the duchess’ friend Lady Betty Germaine
-installed in her two little rooms in a corner of the house,
-and the correspondence with Dean Swift, and the
-echoes of the Restoration reaching him in the shape of
-dedications from Prior and Pope, who had been his
-father’s friends. He must have been happy superintending
-the building of the “ruins” in the park, in
-ordering the removal of the clock from the roof of the
-Great Hall to a safer place over Bourchier’s oriel, in
-putting up the balustrade in the Stone Court, in adding
-to the picture-gallery his own full-length Kneller,
-painted in Garter robes—a dignified and ponderous
-addition—in continuing his father’s kindly and contemptuous
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>patronage of Durfey, in entertaining the
-Prince of Wales, in receiving the present of a pair of
-elk-antlers measuring 7 foot from tip to tip, in playing
-at cards with his wife and Lady Betty, in watching the
-bull-baiting in the park, in inspiring the following
-tribute on the occasion of his birthday:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Accept, with unambitious views,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The tribute of a female muse;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Free from all flattery and art,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>She only boasts an honest heart;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>An heart that truly feels your worth,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And hails the day that gave you birth;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Of younger men let others boast,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Since Dorset is my constant toast;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Nor need the gayer world be told</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>That Dorset never can grow old;</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>And with unerring truth agree,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>There’s none so young, so blithe as he,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With sprightly wit his jokes abound,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Well-bred, he deals good-humour round;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The maid forgets her fav’rite swain,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>When Dorset speaks, he fights in vain;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The lover too, do all he can,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Strives, but in vain, to hate the man.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With this kind wish I end my lays,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Be ever young with length of days.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>or such appreciation of his Christmas hospitality as this:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Our liquor at all times to nature gives fire,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Infuses new blood, and new thoughts can inspire.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Your wife, she may scold, undaunted you’ll sing,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For he that is drunk is as great as a King.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>In the field, if all night you lie under a willow,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The soft easy snow shall be your down pillow.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>There’s nothing can hurt you without or within</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>When you’ve beef in your belly and Punch in your skin.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>It is true that certain discordant notes troubled from
-time to time this Georgian harmony. The house-steward
-killed the black page in the passage; and the
-duke’s sons themselves were unsatisfactory; even the
-favourite son, Lord George, who was the apple of his
-father’s eye, fell into disgrace and was court-martialled
-on a charge of disobedience and cowardice. “I always
-told you,” said Lord John on hearing of this, “that
-George was no better than myself.” This affair of the
-battle of Minden must have been a heavy blow to the
-duke, but although Lord George was not exonerated
-he retained all his father’s doting affection. Still, the
-mud had been slung at him and not a little had stuck.
-The two other sons were a source of sorrow: Lord
-John, after devoting his youth to cricket, went off his
-head; and Lord Middlesex, the eldest of the three,
-was an altogether deplorable character, prompting
-these verses, based upon an old saying about the
-family:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Folly and sense in Dorset’s race</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Alternately do run,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>As Carey one day told his Grace</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Praising his eldest son.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>But Carey must allow for once</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Exception to this rule,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>For Middlesex is but a dunce,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Though Dorset be a fool.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>I quote the verses as they stand, though “dunce”
-seems scarcely the right description to apply to Lord
-Middlesex, that dissolute and extravagant man of
-fashion, who squandered large sums of money upon
-producing operas, that “proud, disgusted, melancholy,
-solitary man,” whose conduct savoured so strongly of
-madness. Certain family characteristics appeared in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>him which had skipped his father, and his father and
-he, consequently and not unnaturally, were not on
-very good terms. The duke, indeed, did not know
-what to make of his eldest son and heir. “Upon my
-word, Mr. Cary,” he said, when Mr. Cary asked him
-loudly at the play whether Lord Middlesex was to
-undertake the opera again next season, “I have not
-considered what answer to make to such a question.”
-Both Lord Middlesex and Lord John being so unsatisfactory,
-Lord George was, and remained, his
-father’s favourite. Lord George, in an even greater
-degree than his father, is an incongruity among the
-Sackvilles, a departure from type. In spite of all his
-mistakes, his misjudgments, and his misfortunes, he
-was a man of greater ability than most of them, of
-greater energy than the common run of his indolent
-and pleasure-loving race, of a further-reaching
-ambition. He did not begin life as the eldest son,
-coming in due course to be the head of the family,
-and languidly accepting the civil or diplomatic posts
-which were pressed upon him; such career as he had
-he made for himself. Unlike his predecessors or their
-descendants, he was neither an ambassador, a poet,
-nor a patron of art or letters—“I have not,” he wrote,
-“genius sufficient for works of <em>mere imagination</em>”—but
-first a soldier and then a statesman, both disastrously.
-It is not my intention to go into the details of his public
-career; my ignorance is too great of the tangle of
-Georgian politics; nor am I qualified to discuss whether
-he did or did not disobey his orders at Minden,
-whether he was or was not largely responsible for the
-loss of America, whether he did or did not write the
-<em>Letters of Junius</em>; such questions are treated in
-histories of the period. Nor can I deal with the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>enormous number of letters on political subjects written
-both by and to Lord George: I have looked into them
-more than once, and have come away merely bewildered
-by the cross-threads of home politics, by the names of
-remembered or forgotten statesmen, by the fall and
-reconstruction of Ministries, by the crises of Whigs
-and Tories. So I judge it best to leave Lord George
-alone, “hot, haughty, ambitious, and obstinate, a sort
-of melancholy in his look which runs through all the
-Sackville family,” and to seek neither to blacken nor to
-whitewash his character. I scarcely regard him as one
-of the Sackvilles, perhaps because he broke away from
-the family traditions into unfamiliar paths, perhaps
-also because he earned his own peerage, inherited a
-large house of his own, and led an existence separate
-from Knole. Living at Knole among its portraits and
-its legends which grew into the very texture of one’s
-life, it was, I suppose, inevitable that one should grow
-up with pre-conceived affections or indifferences, and
-for some reason Lord George never awakened my
-interest or my sense of relationship. He was a public
-character, not a relation.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>The early impressions of the first duke, who grew
-to be so pompous, stout, and good-natured, and whose
-three sons gave him in their several ways so much
-anxiety, are not unattractive. There is a picture of him
-as a little slim boy, with his sister and their pet fawn;
-and there is Lord George’s own anecdote of his father’s
-childhood:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>My father, having lost his own mother, was brought up
-chiefly by the Dowager Countess of Northampton, his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>grandmother. She being particularly acceptable to Queen
-Mary, that Princess commanded her always to bring her
-little grandson, Lord Buckhurst, to Kensington Palace,
-though at that time hardly four years of age, and he was
-allowed to amuse himself with a child’s cart in the gallery.
-King William, like almost all Dutchmen, never failed to
-attend the tea-table every evening. It happened that her
-Majesty having one afternoon by his desire made tea, and
-waiting for the King’s arrival, who was engaged on business
-in his cabinet at the other extremity of the gallery, the boy,
-hearing the Queen express her impatience at the delay, ran
-away to the closet, dragging after him the cart. When he
-arrived at the door, he knocked, and the King asking “Who
-is there?” “Lord Buck,” answered he. “And what does
-Lord Buck want with me?” replied his Majesty. “You
-must come to tea directly,” said he, “the Queen is waiting
-for you.” King William immediately laid down his pen and
-opened the door. Then taking the child in his arms, he
-placed Lord Buckhurst in the cart, and seizing the pole
-drew them both along the gallery to the room in which were
-seated the Queen, Lady Northampton, and the company.
-But no sooner had he entered the apartment, than, exhausted
-with the effort, which had forced the blood upon his lungs,
-and being constitutionally asthmatic, he threw himself into
-a chair, and for some minutes was incapable of uttering a
-word, breathing with the utmost difficulty. The Countess of
-Northampton, shocked at the consequences of her grandson’s
-indiscretion, would have punished him, but the King
-intervened on his behalf.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>When a young man he went on the inevitable
-Grand Tour. This journey, it is fair to assume, which
-was taken at the instigation of his mother’s relations,
-was designed to keep him away from the influence of
-his enfeebled father and of his step-mother, Ann
-Roche, quite as much as for the benefit of his education.
-His father was very angry at this withdrawal
-of his son from his authority, and wrote to him:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>i hear my Lady Northampton has ordered you not to obey
-me; if you take any notice of what she says i have enough
-in my power to make you suffer for it beyond what she will
-make you amends for. But i cannot imagine you to be such a
-fool as to be governed by the passion and folly of anybody.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Your affectionate father,</div>
- <div class='line in24'>DORSET.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c036'>i expect you will come away by the next yocht.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>The next yacht, however, came away without Lord
-Buckhurst, and the young man did not return to
-England until after his father’s death. Shortly after his
-succession and return he married Elizabeth Colyear, his
-“dear, dear Colly,” and was appointed Lord Warden
-of the Cinque Ports at a salary of £160 a year, and
-Lieutenant of Dover Castle at £50. This is the menu
-and cost of the dinner given by the youthful Lord
-Warden at Dover Castle on the 16th August 1709 on
-his being appointed by Queen Anne:</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='4%' />
-<col width='76%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c012'></th>
- <th class='c011'>&nbsp;</th>
- <th class='c035'>£</th>
- <th class='c035'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c034'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>5</td>
- <td class='c011'>Soups</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of fish</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>1</td>
- <td class='c011'>Westphalia Ham and five fowls</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>8</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of pullets and oysters, with bacon</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>10</td>
- <td class='c011'>Almond puddings</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>haunches of venison, roast</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>6</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of roast pigs</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>3</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of roast geese</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>Venison pasties</td>
- <td class='c022'>6</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>white Fragacies with Peetets</td>
- <td class='c022'>7</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>8</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of “ragged” veal</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='5'><em>Second Course</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>14</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of ducks, turkey, and pigeons</td>
- <td class='c022'>8</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>15</td>
- <td class='c011'>codlin tarts, creamed</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of roast lobster</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of umble pies</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>10</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of fried fish</td>
- <td class='c022'>5</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>8</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of Chickens and rabbits</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='5'><span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span><em>Ryders</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>5</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of dried sweetmeats</td>
- <td class='c022'>17</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of jelly</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>6</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of Selebub cream</td>
- <td class='c022'>2</td>
- <td class='c022'>8</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>13</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of fruit</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>8</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of Almond Pies gilt</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>12</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of Custard Florentines</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>8</td>
- <td class='c011'>dishes of lobster</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>120</td>
- <td class='c011'>Intermediate plates of sorts</td>
- <td class='c022'>9</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c008' colspan='5'><em>Side-Table</em></td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'>A large chine of beef stuck with flags and banners</td>
- <td class='c022'>5</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'>1 loaf of double refined sugar</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'>Oil and vinegar</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c009' colspan='2'>Outcharges and expenses of pewter, carriage, bread, wharfage, turnspits, glasses, mugs, for ten men, horses, use of bakehouse, cooks, coach hire</td>
- <td class='c022'>76</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>9</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c042'>This was an office he held intermittently for many
-years, and on one occasion, England being then at war
-with Spain, two hundred and fifty butts, eight hogsheads,
-and fifty quarter casks of Spanish mountain wine,
-and one hundred jars of Raisins of the Sun, being
-washed up at Deal and Sandwich, they were adjudged
-to him as the Lord Warden’s perquisite of flotsam and
-jetsam.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>In 1714 died Queen Anne, and Lord Dorset, with
-others, was sent to Hanover to announce to George his
-accession to the English throne. He returned from
-Hanover with the new King, and drove with him in his
-coach from Greenwich to London. On the way
-George related that thirty-three years earlier he had
-travelled to England as a suitor for the hand of Queen
-Anne: returning to Gravesend after the failure of his
-mission, he rode a common post-horse, which gave him
-a fall, so that he arrived at Gravesend covered with
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>mud. The King amused himself in the coach with
-looking out for the place where this misfortune had
-come upon him, and pointed it out to Lord Dorset,
-who no doubt joined politely in the laughter.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Thus began that curious reign of a King who did not
-know the language of his adopted country, who spent
-as much time in his Hanoverian as in his English
-estates, and infinitely preferred them, who surrounded
-himself with German courtiers and mistresses, and who
-locked up his wife for two-and-thirty years as a punishment
-for her infidelity. The solemnity of Lord Dorset
-cannot have been out of place in such a court. Honours
-now crowded rapidly upon him, although at one
-moment he was temporarily deprived of all his offices
-for taking part in political intrigues. He was made a
-Knight of the Garter, six years later he was made a
-duke, he was given the office of Lord Steward, and
-finally he entered upon the first lap of his unfortunate
-career as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Before this,
-however, he was for the second time called upon to be
-the bearer of news of accession to a King of England.
-I give the account in Lord George’s words:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>When the intelligence of his [George I’s] decease, which
-took place near Osnabrugh, in the end of July 1727, arrived
-in London, the Cabinet having immediately met, thought
-proper to dispatch the Duke of Dorset with the news to the
-Prince of Wales. He then resided at Kew, in a state of great
-alienation from the King, the two Courts maintaining no
-communication. Some little time being indispensable to
-enable my father to appear in a suitable manner before the
-new monarch, he sent forward the Duchess his wife, in order
-to announce the event. She arrived at Kew just as the Prince,
-according to his invariable custom, having undressed himself
-after dinner, had laid down in bed. The Duchess demanding
-permission to see him immediately, on business of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>greatest importance, the servants acquainted the Princess of
-Wales with her arrival; and the Duchess, without a moment’s
-hesitation, informed her Royal Highness, that George the
-First lay dead at Osnabrugh, that the Cabinet had ordered
-her husband to be the bearer of the intelligence to his
-successor, and that the Duke would follow her in a short
-time. She added that not a moment should be lost in communicating
-so great an event to the Prince, as the Ministers
-wished him to come up to London that same evening, in
-order to summon a Privy Council, to issue a proclamation,
-and take other requisite measures, at the commencement of
-a new reign.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>To the propriety of all these steps the Princess assented;
-but at the same time informed the Duchess, that she could
-not venture to enter her husband’s room, as he had only just
-taken off his clothes and composed himself to sleep. “Besides,”
-added she, “the Prince will not give credit to the
-intelligence, but will exclaim that it is a fabrication, designed
-for the purpose of exposing him.” The Duchess continued
-nevertheless to remonstrate with her Royal Highness, on the
-injurious consequences of losing time, and adding that the
-Duke of Dorset would expect to find the Prince not only
-apprised of it, but ready to accompany him to London. The
-Princess of Wales took off her shoes, opened the chamber
-door softly, and advanced up to the bedside, while my
-mother remained at the threshold, till she should be allowed
-to enter the apartment. As soon as the Princess came near
-the bed, a voice from under the clothes cried out in German,
-<i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Was ist das?</span></i> “I am come, sir,” answered she, “to
-announce to you the death of the King, which has taken
-place in Germany.” “That is one damned trick,” returned
-the Prince, “I do not believe one word of it.” “Sir,” said
-the Princess, “it is most certain. The Duchess of Dorset
-has just brought the intelligence, and the Duke will be here
-immediately. The Ministers hope that you will repair to town
-this very evening, as your presence there is indispensable.”
-Her Royal Highness then threw herself on her knees, to
-kiss the new King’s hand; and beckoning to the Duchess of
-Dorset to advance, she came in likewise, knelt down, and
-assured him of the indisputable truth of his father’s decease.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>Convinced at length of the fact, he consented to get up and
-dress himself. The Duke of Dorset arriving in his coach and
-six, almost immediately afterwards, George the Second
-quitted Kew the same evening for London.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>George the Second, as Prince of Wales, had been on
-terms of personal friendship with the duke. He had
-stayed at Knole, when half an ox, four sheep, and a
-calf were provided, besides the following items for his
-visit:</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Butcher</td>
- <td class='c022'>17</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Bread and flour</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Fowls, butter and eggs</td>
- <td class='c022'>14</td>
- <td class='c022'>15</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Poulterer</td>
- <td class='c022'>11</td>
- <td class='c022'>14</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Fishmonger</td>
- <td class='c022'>9</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Confectioner</td>
- <td class='c022'>25</td>
- <td class='c022'>10</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Wine</td>
- <td class='c022'>66</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Beer</td>
- <td class='c022'>35</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Master-cook’s bill</td>
- <td class='c022'>20</td>
- <td class='c022'>9</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>To the cooks</td>
- <td class='c022'>37</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The pewterer</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>The carrier</td>
- <td class='c022'>9</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Lord Lumley’s Grenadiers</td>
- <td class='c022'>3</td>
- <td class='c022'>4</td>
- <td class='c010'>6</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c010'><hr /></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>£257</td>
- <td class='c022'>1</td>
- <td class='c010'>4</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c042'>The duke’s first essay in Ireland was not unsuccessful:
-he left affairs alone as far as he possibly could
-and was tolerably popular. It was only the second
-time, twenty years later, that he and Lord George
-incurred so much dislike. Into the political reasons
-for this I have already said that I will not, because
-I cannot, enter; I will only quote from a curious
-lampoon, preserved in the British Museum, which
-was written to celebrate the duke’s departure in
-1754:</p>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>
- <h4 class='c014'>Ringing of the Bell<br /> <em>or</em><br /> A <em>Hue</em> &amp; <em>Cry</em> after <em>Raymond</em> the <em>Fox</em><br /> By <span class='fss'>ROGER SPY</span>, Esq.</h4>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c044'>The bells are ringing, Hark! how they merrily toll.
-What is the cause of their joy? Or why this cheerful
-tintinnation? They seem animated, and their rejoicing
-seems sensible, so expressive of triumph and hilarity are
-their peals, treble, bass and tenor make excellent harmony,
-and strike the very heart; the ringers themselves pull with
-pleasure—what is it they toll forth, or what may the bells
-be supposed to say?</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in8'><em>Interpreter</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>I’ll tell you what they say&nbsp;...</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in7'><em>St. Patrick’s</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>He was full of Pa-pa tricks,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Patrick’s.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'><em>St. Mary</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>I wonder how dare he,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Mary.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in9'><em>St. Bride</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Our acts he belied,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Bride.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'><em>St. Ann</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>He played Cat-in-Pan,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Ann.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in9'><em>St. Andrew</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Bad swash as e’er man drew,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Andrew.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in9'><em>St. Peter</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>No vinegar sweeter,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Peter.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span><em>St. Owen</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>In mischief full knowing,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Owen.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in9'><em>St. Thomas</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>The Lord keep him from us,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of St. Thomas.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in4'><em>St. Nicholas Without</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>He put good men out,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says St. Nicholas Without.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in4'><em>St. Nicholas Within</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>He put bad men in,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says St. Nicholas Within.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in8'><em>Castle Bell</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>You’re a very bad parcel,</div>
- <div class='line'>Says the bell of the Castle,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>and so on, in the same vein.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>His patronage of the actress Peg Woffington sets
-him in a more personal and amiable light. I have no
-evidence to prove whether he was following in the steps
-of his father; I only know that Peg Woffington’s
-portrait, like that of Nell Gwyn and of the Baccelli,
-is at Knole; that an old play-bill of hers was found
-behind the panelling in the Great Hall; that the duke
-gave her a command performance at Dublin; and,
-finally, that the following facetious petition—was it
-written by one of the duke’s disrespectful sons?—is
-among the Knole papers:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c038'>
- <div>To his Grace <span class='fss'>LIONEL</span> Duke <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, Lord Lieu<sup>t</sup> <em>of</em> Ireland</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'>The humble Memorial of <span class='sc'>Margaret Woffington</span>,
-<em>Spinster</em>. Most humbly sheweth</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That your Memorialist is a woman of great merit and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>small fortune, and would be proud of an opportunity of
-shewing her zeal for his Majesty’s service by her ready
-acceptance and faithful discharge of any employment he
-shall graciously please to bestow upon her.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That her friends have been at great expense and trouble
-in procuring and perusing the list of the several places on
-this establishment, and find her extremely well qualified to
-discharge the Office of Housekeeper to his Majesty’s Castle
-as it doth not require much greater ability than the Rolls or
-the Chancellorship of the Exchequer.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That your Memorialist is a true friend to the present
-Constitution in opposition to all Mock Patriots and drinks
-the Brownlow Majority and the Minority for the Money-bill
-every day devoutly.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That she has already by the assistance of whisky made
-two considerable Proselytes Patrick O’Donoghoe and Thady
-Foley her Chairman tho’ one of them had been closeted by
-Col. Dilkes and the other taken by the hand by Sir Rich<sup>d</sup>
-Cox, and verily believes if the same means were employed,
-the Opposition would soon lose its principal supporters.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That your Memorialist can produce two of the greatest
-Polemical Writers of the present Age in support of her
-character, 1st. Peter Willson who has abused her more
-than once in his <cite>Universal Advertiser</cite>—an honour which he
-is never known to confer on any but persons of the first ranks
-and character. 2<sup>dly</sup> Geo. Faulkner, in whose impartial
-Journal are contained a Score of Poems, One Dozen of
-Sonnets, Six letters from some of the best Critics, if you will
-take their own words for it, four Epigrams, besides occasional
-paragraphs, all composed in her praise, and which
-are at least as well written as they are printed.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That your Memorialist is little versed in the Housekeeper’s
-Arithmetic, having never been instructed in the
-doctrine of Items, Dittos, Sums Total and Balances, which
-circumstance, it is conceived, will turn out greatly to the
-advantage of the Government.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That her personal attachment to your Grace is so well
-known, that odd reports have been raised in relation to some
-intimacies that have past between two persons that shall be
-nameless, and which she defies her adversaries to prove.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>Wherefore she humbly hopes that Your Grace will take
-the premises into your serious consideration, and oblige the
-present Incumbent to resign the said office, your Memorialist
-paying her the full value thereof, or if she continues obstinate
-as old women are apt to do, and refuses to sell, that the
-reversion may be granted to your Petitioner, and the rather
-as she conceives, if it be not done under your Grace’s
-administration, there may be some reason to fear it will never
-be done at all.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>MARGARET WOFFINGTON.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'><em>Mem</em>: She is ready and willing to act as first Chambermaid
-to your Grace, to warm your bed and tuck you in,
-which, as she is advised and verily believes, the present
-Housekeeper is in no manner qualified to do.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>I have already mentioned Lady Betty Germaine,
-who, during the lifetime of the first duke and duchess,
-lived almost entirely at Knole and had three rooms—her
-bedroom, her sitting-room, and her china closet—set
-aside for her exclusive use. This little prim lady, to
-whom the three little rooms must have provided so
-apposite a frame, occupied her time in writing letters,
-in stitching at crewel work with brightly-coloured
-wools, in making pot-pourri to fill the bowls on the
-window ledges, and in telling anecdotes of Queen
-Anne, whose lady-in-waiting she had once been, since
-to her, no doubt, in common with all human nature,
-the days which were the past were preferable to the
-days which were the present. She was, primarily, the
-friend of the Duchess of Dorset, and for once a woman
-was installed in the house whose coiffure and petticoats
-the wind of scandal was unable to ruffle. They composed
-she, the duchess, the duke, and Lord George, a
-harmonious quartette, whose correspondence survives,
-voluminous and intimate, pricked into sharper highlights
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>here and there by the pen of Swift. “As to my
-duchess,” writes Lady Betty, “she is so reserved that
-perhaps she may not be at first so much admired.”
-The duke she thought “great-souled,” and it must
-have been an occasion of great distress to her that her
-friend Swift should not always share her views:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Madam [<em>he writes to her after failing to obtain some
-favour from Dorset</em>], I owe your Ladyship the acknowledgement
-of a letter I have long received, relating to a request
-I made to my Lord Duke. I now dismiss you, Madam,
-from your office of being a go-between upon any affair I
-might have with his Grace. I will never more trouble him,
-either with my visits or application. His business in this
-kingdom is to make himself easy; his lessons are all prescribed
-for him from Court; and he is sure, at a very cheap
-rate, to have a majority of most corrupt slaves and idiots
-at his devotion. The happiness of this Kingdom is of no
-more consequence to him than it would be to the Great
-Mogul....</p>
-<div id='i_168' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_168fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>LADY BETTY GERMAINE<br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='sc'>C. Phillips</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>One wonders whether such suggestions troubled
-Lady Betty. Was it possible that her great-souled
-friend would not be Lord Steward and Lord
-Lieutenant of Ireland and Lord Warden and Lord
-Lieutenant of Kent, did he not also happen to be Duke
-of Dorset? Was it possible that people such as the
-Sackvilles occasionally occupied positions due to their
-birth rather than to their intellect? Was it true that
-he, and particularly Lord George, cared for their own
-advancement rather than for the credit of England?—they
-who <em>were</em> England, who shared the blood of
-the Tudors and the Howards and the Spencers and the
-Cliffords? whose house was quarried from Kentish
-rock? whose oaks and beeches were rooted so deep
-into the soil of England? Lady Betty herself, who as
-Lady Betty Berkeley had come from that most ancient
-castle—that rose-and-grey castle, the colour of her
-own dried rose-leaves, the castle that, squat, romantic,
-and uncouth, brooded over the Severn across the
-meadows of Gloucestershire—Lady Betty herself was
-of all people least qualified or likely to criticize. The
-household at Knole was ordered on a magnificent
-scale, with the duke and duchess and their guest at the
-apex of the pyramid which reposed on the base of five
-servants at £20 each, two at £15, two at £10 10<em>s.</em>,
-seven at £10, two at £8, thirteen at £6, eight at £5,
-two at £5, one at £2, besides the chaplain who was
-unsalaried, the senior officers, the Steward, the Comptroller,
-and the Master of the Horse at £60, £30, and
-£25 respectively, Tom Durfey living over the dairy,
-and the rabble of labourers, gardeners, and what-not,
-of whom nobody took any notice. This was life as
-Lady Betty was accustomed to find it ordered. If ever
-she paused to question its system, no trace of her
-wondering appears in her letters.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>She had a house of her own, Drayton, in Northamptonshire,
-considered by Horace Walpole a “venerable
-heap of ugliness, with many curious bits,” which she
-had inherited from her late husband, who in his turn
-had inherited it from a first wife. This husband of
-Lady Betty’s is a peculiar figure; so peculiar, indeed,
-so ambiguous, and so equivocal, that one wonders at
-his alliance with the orderly Lady Betty Berkeley,
-unless this may be explained by the fact that he
-“possessed a very handsome person, and was always a
-distinguished favourite of the other Sex.” He was,
-I gather, a soldier of fortune, of uncertain parentage,
-or, as Lord George Sackville delicately puts it,
-“believed to stand in a very close degree of consanguinity
-to King William the Third.” William, at
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>any rate, brought him over to England from Holland
-in 1688, knighted him, saw to it that he became a
-member of the House of Commons, and assisted him
-with grants of money; and Germaine, who inherited
-from his father no armorial bearings, was accustomed
-to use a red cross, which might be taken to mean that
-his actual was higher than his ostensible birth. This
-gentleman combined with the instincts of a collector
-a profound ignorance of artistic matters. His principal
-pride was his collection of “Rarities,” in which he
-would exhibit the dagger of Henry VIII; he believed
-a certain Sir Matthew Germaine to be the author of
-St. Matthew’s Gospel; and at Drayton, where he was
-building a colonnade, he caused the columns to be
-placed upside down, as he had mistaken the capitals for
-the pedestals.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>This was the man who married Lady Betty Berkeley
-when she was thirty years younger than himself. He
-had previously been married to the Duchess of Norfolk,
-whose husband divorced her on Sir John Germaine’s
-account. After her death, by which he inherited
-Drayton, he attached himself to the Duke and Duchess
-of Dorset, who received him with their wonted hospitality;
-but this was not enough: he wanted a
-brilliant alliance, he wanted an heir to Drayton. While
-at Bristol he “cast his eyes upon Lady Betty, whose
-birth, character, and accomplishments rendered her
-every way worthy of his choice.” They married; and
-the friendship with the Dorsets, to whom Lady Betty
-was already devoted, was strengthened by the new
-bond. Although the difference in age was so considerable,
-Lady Betty, through her “superior understanding,
-added to the most correct deportment,
-acquired great influence over him,” and when after
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>twelve years of marriage Sir John died, “a martyr to
-the gout as well as to other diseases,” he called his
-wife to his bedside and spoke to her in these terms:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Lady Betty [<em>said he</em>], I have made you a very indifferent
-husband, and particularly of late years, when infirmities
-have rendered me a burden to myself, but I shall not be much
-longer troublesome to you. I advise you never again to
-marry an old man, but I strenuously exhort you to marry
-when I am gone, and I will endeavour to put it in your power.
-You have fulfilled every obligation towards me in an exemplary
-manner, and I wish to demonstrate my sense of your
-merits. I have, therefore, by my will, bequeathed you this
-estate, which I received from my first wife; and which,
-as she gave to me, so I leave to you. I hope you will marry
-and have children to inherit it. But, if events should determine
-otherwise, it would give me pleasure to think that
-Drayton descended after your decease to a younger son of
-my friend the Duchess of Dorset.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>He then passed away, but in one particular Lady
-Betty did not take his advice: she never married again,
-although she survived him by fifty years, and thus it is
-perhaps that I regard her, with her crewel work, her
-china closet, and her pot-pourri, rather as a spinster
-than as a widow. There is no trace at all at Knole of
-Sir John Germaine, that royal bastard, that handsome
-and enterprising child of fortune, thanks to whom
-Drayton came into the possession of Lord George and
-continues to this day in the hands of his descendants.
-Of Lady Betty, on the other hand, there are copious
-traces. There are her rooms, which I have already
-described in the first chapter, her small square four-poster,
-her ring-box, and the painted wooden figure
-of a lady with the <em>fontange</em> of Queen Anne’s day on her
-head. There is Lady Betty’s own portrait, a miniature
-full-length, in blue brocade. There is yard upon yard of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>her industrious embroidery. There is the pot-pourri
-which is made every summer from her receipt (1750):</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Gather dry, Double Violets, Rose Leaves, Lavender,
-Myrtle flowers, Verbena, Bay leaves, Rosemary, Balm,
-Musk, Geranium. Pick these from the stalks and dry on
-paper in the sun for a day or two before putting them in a
-jar. This should be a large white one, well glazed, with a
-close fitting cover, also a piece of card the exact size of the
-jar, which you must keep pressed down on the flowers. Keep
-a new wooden spoon to stir the salt and flowers from the
-bottom, before you put in a fresh layer of bay salt above and
-below every layer of flowers. Have ready of spices, plenty of
-Cinnamon, Mace, Nutmeg, and Pepper and Lemon-peel
-pounded. For a large jar ½ lb. Orris root, 1 oz. Storax, 1 oz.
-Gum Benjamin, 2 ozs. <span lang="it" xml:lang="it">Calamino Aromatico</span>,<a id='r12' /><a href='#f12' class='c020'><sup>[12]</sup></a> 2 grs. Musk,
-and a small quantity of oil of Rhodium. The spice and gums
-to be added when you have collected all the flowers you
-intend to put in. Mix all well together, press it down well,
-and spread bay salt on the top to exclude the air until the
-January or February following. Keep the jar in a cool, dry
-place.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>In the second respect Lady Betty carried out her
-husband’s wishes, for when she died herself at the age
-of nearly ninety she bequeathed the “venerable heap
-of ugliness” to Lord George, with £20,000 and half
-the residue of her estate.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iv</h3>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c051'>
- <div>CHARLES SACKVILLE</div>
- <div class='c004'>2nd</div>
- <div class='c004'>Duke <em>of</em> Dorset</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>Since I have avoided all political details, which
-would have led anyone more conversant than myself
-with the background to the facts into pages of dissertation, there remains very little to say of the first
-Duke of Dorset. He died a few years before his dear,
-dear Colly, and was succeeded by his son, that Lord
-Middlesex to whom I have alluded as being so unsatisfactory.
-There is not much record of this good-for-nothing
-duke, who enjoyed his dukedom only four
-years, and who was married to a “very short, very
-plain, very yellow, and vain girl, full of Greek and
-Latin.” Apparently he married her no earlier than he
-need, for Horace Walpole writes of “Lord Middlesex’s
-wedding, which was over a week before it was known.
-I believe the bride told it then, for he and all his family
-are so silent that they would never have mentioned it;
-she might have popped out a child, before a single Sackville
-would have been at the expense of a syllable to
-justify her.” I have already quoted the few epithets I
-have found relating to this duke, the “proud, disgusted,
-melancholy, solitary man&nbsp;...” who produced operas
-and spent enormous sums on defending singers in legal
-actions. He was reputed mad, “a disorder which there
-was too much reason to suppose, ran in the blood”;
-he was certainly eccentric; and there is a large picture
-of him in the ball-room at Knole dressed as a Roman
-emperor, with bare knees, a plumed helmet on his head,
-and various pieces of armour. Besides these scanty
-documents, there are some verses which scarcely
-entitle him to be called a poet: <em>Arno’s Vale</em>, which
-I have never read, and which is addressed to a certain
-Madame Muscovita, whose portrait is at Knole; and
-others which are at Knole, for instance:</p>
-<div id='i_172' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_172fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>LADY BETTY GERMAINE’S BEDROOM AT KNOLE</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>
- <h4 class='c014'>DUCK HUNTING</h4>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Hard by where Knole’s exalted towers rise</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Upon a green smooth plain a pond there lies,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em><span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>With verdant grass encircled round, a place</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Seated commodiously the duck to chase.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Here in the heat of day the youths for sport</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With well-taught spaniels to the pond resort.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The youths on ev’ry side the pond surround,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With fav’ring cries the hollow woods resound.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The eager dogs with barking rend the skies</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Until encouraged by their masters’ cries</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>They plunge into the stream: the stream before ’em flies.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Rover, the first that plung’d, the first in fame</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And one from Charles’s noble breed that came.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The next came Trip, tho’ of a bastard race,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And smaller size, he swam the next in place.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The last came Ranger, with his spotted back,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>That swam but slow: the gravest of the pack.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>His deep rough voice was of a hoarser sound</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>With long red ears that swept along the ground....</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And thus the sport goes on, till weary grown,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And ev’ryone is willing to go home.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>The weary duck at last swims close to land;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>They take her up with a kind, pitying hand.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Of every spannel they extoll the praise</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And all their virtues to the skies they raise.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And then they, weary, homewards take their way,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And drown in sprightly bowls the labours of the day.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>The duke’s poems are worthless, of course, but
-among the Knole papers of this date is one which I
-cannot forbear from reproducing:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c052'>
- <div><span class='fss'>AN EPISTLE</span> <em>from</em> <span class='sc'>DAME I&nbsp;... L&nbsp;...</span> <em>to the</em> <span class='sc'>REVD. MR. B&nbsp;...</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Sweet youth, ’tis hard thy innocence should be</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>A source of scandal and reproach to me.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Nay, blush not—with reluctance I prevail</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>O’er innate modesty to own the tale.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span><em>That fatal day when first I saw thy face</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And marked each angel-look and smiling grace,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Thy fair idea struck my tender heart,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And, oh! remained, though thou didst soon depart;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Maternal love, methought, thou didst inspire,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Around my heart still played the lambent fire.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Thoughtless of harm, why should I aught conceal?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>A friend I meet, and thus the truth reveal</em>:</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“<em>Say, didst thou mark that dove-like form to-day,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Those eyes that languished with so mild a ray?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Can fleecy lambs such innocence disclose,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>E’er glowed such blushes on the opening rose?</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Safe could I take the youngster to my bed</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And on my bosom fondly rest his head,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Harmless the tedious night were so beguiled;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>So watch fond mothers o’er the sucking child.</em>”</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>That seeming friend betrayed me, and began</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>To whisper through the house, “I loved the man.”</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Then memory spread and worse suspicions rose,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And searching spies broke in on my repose;</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Nor chamber, closet, bed, were sacred then:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>They sought to find</em> thee, <em>ah! they sought in vain!</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Thou wrapped in innocence might sleeping be,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Unconscious of the woes I bore for thee.</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>The uproar now withdrawn, I strive to rest,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And throw my arms across my pensive breast.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Soon as my eyelids close I see thy form,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Pure as the snow-drop, yet in blushes warm.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>But oh! what followed?—strange effect of fright,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>I dreamed that in my bed thou pass’t the night&nbsp;...</em></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Come, with thy innocence, thy smiles impart</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Fresh joy to me, and mend each wicked heart,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Talk much of charity, and</em> Love, <em>too, teach:</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>’Tis mine to suffer, but ’tis thine to preach</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII<br /> Knole at the End of the Eighteenth Century<br /> JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE<br /> <span class='large'>3rd<br /> Duke <em>of</em> Dorset</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c050'>The portrait by Gainsborough in the ball-room
-is of a man with a curved mouth, deep grey
-eyes, and powdered hair brushed back off his
-forehead. He looks out from the oval of his framing,
-beautiful and melancholy. “I have always looked on
-him as the most dangerous of men,” said the Duchess
-of Devonshire, “for with that beauty of his he is so
-unaffected, and has a simplicity and a persuasion in his
-manner that makes one account very easily for the
-number of women he has had in love with him.”
-There is much in him which recalls his forefather,
-Charles, the Dorset of the Restoration, but this is a
-personality less opulent, less voluminous, more wistful
-and more romantic; all his accessories are essentially
-of the eighteenth century—his Chinese page, his
-diamonds, his scarf-pin, his Italian mistress who caused
-so much scandal by dancing at the Opera in Paris with
-his Garter bound about her forehead. He is the immediate
-precursor of the generation which replaced by
-Gothic the Tudor windows in the Orangery, made
-serpentine some of the straight paths in the garden,
-and decorated the windows in the Colonnade with
-representations of knights in full armour. He himself
-escaped the baronial tendencies. He belonged to an
-age more delicate, more exquisite; an age of quizzing
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>glasses, of flowered waistcoats, of buckled shoes, and
-of slim bejewelled swords. When he had his mistress
-sculpted, it was lying full-length on a couch, naked
-save for a single rose looping up her hair. When he
-had her drawn, it was pointing her little foot in the
-first step of a dance, a tambourine in her hand, and the
-Chinese boy in the background. When he wrote to his
-friends, it was in a bored, nonchalant style, half in
-English and half in French. His manner was “soft,
-quiet, and ingratiating.” He treated the women who
-loved him with an easy heartlessness which failed to
-diminish their affection. He was possessed of no very
-great talents but those calculated to render life agreeable
-to him in the circles into which he was born, for
-it was his good fortune to be born handsome, rich,
-charming, and a duke, in a century when those
-qualifications were a certain passport to success.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>John Frederick Sackville became Duke of Dorset at
-the age of twenty-four. He was the son of that Lord
-John Sackville who passes across the annals of the family
-early in life as a poet and cricketer, and later as a sad
-and shabby figure, “always dirtily clad,” living under
-mild restraint at Vevey, a victim to melancholia. There
-was, however, no hint as yet of this hereditary strangeness
-of temper in his son, the new Duke of Dorset. The
-young man came brilliantly into his new possessions,
-paid the undertaker £66 6<em>s.</em> for the late duke’s funeral,
-paid the Sheriff £418 2<em>s.</em> for “things taken at Knole”—from
-which it would seem that the late duke had
-died in debt—bought four thousand ounces of silver,
-and entertained his neighbours and tenantry to a feast
-in celebration of his succession, at which sixty stone
-of beef, mutton, and veal were consumed, thirty-four
-pounds of wax-lights used, and musicians provided. It
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>is curious to see how the price of wine had altered
-between the days of Charles II and this time; namely,
-1769. Claret now cost 54<em>s.</em> a dozen, Burgundy 60<em>s.</em>
-a dozen, Champagne 97<em>s.</em> a dozen, and port for the
-servants’ table cost 20<em>s.</em> a dozen, in comparison with
-the few shillings paid per gallon a century earlier.
-The only thing which did not [<em>see</em> p. <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>] alter in
-proportion is beer, for which 35<em>s.</em> a hogshead was paid
-in the seventeenth century and £2 10<em>s.</em> a hogshead
-in the eighteenth. The young duke’s time, we are told,
-was “devoted to gallantry and pleasure among the
-fashionable circles as well in France and Italy as in
-England,” a phrase which begins to acquire a fatally
-familiar ring through the generations of the family.
-Perhaps nothing else could reasonably be expected of
-him. Life offered him too great an ease and too many
-advantages; why should he have rejected them?
-Before he had been for a year in the enjoyment of his
-honours and estates he had set out on the Grand Tour
-accompanied by the celebrated Nancy Parsons and a
-train of singers, actors, and Bohemians, who clustered
-round him in every European capital which he visited.
-Echoes of his extravagance and his escapades come
-down to us from Paris and from Rome. He entertained
-lavishly every evening, inviting only those who
-could amuse his already blasé appetite; he rescued his
-Nancy Parsons in the nick of time as she was about
-to be abducted from a masked ball by a noble Venetian;
-he indulged his taste for the fine arts “even
-beyond the limits of his fortune”; he bought a
-Perugino, he bought a doubtful Titian, and a number
-of Italian primitives; he bought from a Mr. Jenkins in
-Rome “<em>the figure of Demosthenes in the act of delivering
-an oration</em>, a fine Grecian relick in marble,” and a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>bronze cast of the Gladiator Repellens, on whose shield
-he caused his own coat-of-arms to be embossed. This
-kind of existence he continued to lead for two or three
-years, when he threw over Nancy Parsons, returned to
-England, and became the lover of a Mrs. Elizabeth
-Armistead. Meanwhile, it appears from his account-books
-that large sums were being spent by his orders
-on both outdoor and indoor repairs at Knole. He put
-down new floors, altered some of the windows, and
-bought further enormous quantities of silver, 5920
-ounces in one year alone, costing £2463 17<em>s.</em> 7<em>d.</em>, and
-including a hundred and forty-four silver plates, eight
-dozen each of forks and spoons, dishes of all kinds,
-covers, and tureens. Occupied with Knole, love affairs,
-and cricket, he dawdled away a particularly gilded
-youth. Details from his account-books give a good
-idea of his expenses and occupations:</p>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Mrs. Gardiner, lace ruffles</td>
- <td class='c022'>41</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Butler, new chain</td>
- <td class='c022'>80</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Opera, expenses last winter</td>
- <td class='c022'>17</td>
- <td class='c022'>19</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Opera, subscription</td>
- <td class='c022'>21</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>Paid Sir Joshua Reynolds</td>
- <td class='c022'>78</td>
- <td class='c022'>15</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c042'>Mrs. Elizabeth Armistead reigned for three years,
-but the duke had other diversions in other circles: the
-gay, frivolous, and wanton Lady Betty Hamilton,
-trailing from ball to ball with her suitors in her wake,
-set her heart upon him, and he, not unresponsive, was
-ready to trifle so long as he was not expected to marry.
-Lady Betty was finally married off to Lord Derby,
-reputed the ugliest and the richest peer in England.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Many were the means employed till Lord Derby’s constant
-and assiduous care veiled the ugliness of his person
-before the idol he worshipped. Time and despair made Lady
-Betty give a hasty and undigested consent. After a day of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>persecutions from every quarter, while a hair-dresser was
-adorning her unhappy head, she traced the consent with a
-pencil on a scrap of paper, and sent it wet with her tears
-to her mother.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>A re-shuffle now took place: the duke became the new
-Lady Derby’s lover, and Lord Derby became the lover
-of Mrs. Armistead. This arrangement, however, was
-not of long duration. Lord Derby fell in love with
-Elizabeth Farren; Lady Derby, it was rumoured, ran
-away and had to be brought back by her brother, the
-Duke of Hamilton: still bent upon marrying the Duke
-of Dorset, she wished to divorce Lord Derby, but was
-foiled by the prudence of Miss Farren. The gossips of
-London were much excited by all these occurrences.
-Lady Sarah Lennox wrote: “It is no scandal to tell
-you it is imagined that the Duke of Dorset will marry
-Lady Derby. I am told she has been and still is most
-thoroughly attached to him.” It would be satisfactory
-to know exactly what part Dorset played; I fear not a
-very creditable one. Lady Derby was an impulsive,
-headstrong, attractive creature, capable of real passion
-under all her lightheartedness and easy virtue;
-her husband was unfaithful to her; her rival more sage
-and experienced than she herself; her lover ready to
-take what he could without incurring an irksome
-responsibility. My grandfather’s sister, Lady Derby,
-used to show at Knowsley the window through which
-the Duke of Dorset was reported to have been admitted
-to the house, disguised as a gardener, and it was commonly
-supposed that the infant Lady Elizabeth Stanley
-was in reality the duke’s daughter. But when the affair
-threatened to become too serious he was only too ready
-to resume his travels abroad.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>I can only suppose that it was during one of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>absences that Horace Walpole went to Knole and
-found it not at all to his liking, for he draws a picture
-of the place in a state of desertion which would surely
-not have been warranted had the duke and his household
-been in occupation:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>I came to Knole [<em>he writes to Lady Ossory</em>], and that was
-a medley of various feelings! Elizabeth and Burleigh and
-Buckhurst; and then Charles [<em>he means Richard</em>] and
-Anne, Dorset and Pembroke, and Sir Edward Sackville, and
-then a more engaging Dorset, and Villiers and Prior, and
-then the old duke and duchess, and Lady Betty Germaine,
-and the court of George II.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The place is stripped of its beeches and honours, and has
-neither beauty nor prospects. The house, extensive as it is,
-seemed dwindled to the front of a college, and has the silence
-and solitude of one. It wants the cohorts of retainers, and
-the bustling jollity of the old nobility, to disperse the gloom.
-I worship all its faded splendour, and enjoy its preservation,
-and could have wandered over it for hours with satisfaction,
-but there was such a heterogenous housekeeper as poisoned
-all my enthusiasm. She was more like one of Mrs. St. John’s
-Abigails than an inhabitant of a venerable mansion, and
-shuffled about in slippers, and seemed to <em>admire</em> how I could
-care about the pictures of such old <em>frights</em> as covered the
-walls.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>I have said that cricket as well as love affairs occupied
-the duke’s time, and in this he was only carrying
-on the tradition begun by his father and his uncle, who
-were both enthusiastic cricketers and took part in the
-first match recorded as having been played at Sevenoaks,
-in 1734, between Kent and Sussex, Lord John
-Sackville and Lord Middlesex playing, of course, for
-Kent. Six years later Sevenoaks played London on the
-famous Vine cricket ground at Sevenoaks—the first
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>match recorded on the Vine. The young Duke of
-Dorset inherited his father’s taste, keeping in his
-employ professional cricketers such as Bowra, Miller,
-and Minskull, and we have endless details of the
-matches played, an old print of one match taking
-place on the Vine between the duke’s men and Sir
-Horace Mann’s men, which shows the players all wearing
-jockey-caps and finally a number of cricketing
-ballads, more noticeable for their enthusiasm than for
-their excellence:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>His Grace the Duke of Dorset came</em> [we read],</div>
- <div class='line'><em>The next enrolled in skilful fame.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Equalled by few, he plays with glee,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Nor peevish seeks for victory,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And far unlike the modern way</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Of blocking every ball at play,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>He firmly stands with bat upright</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And strikes with his athletic might,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Sends forth the ball across the mead</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And scores six notches for the deed.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>There is in particular a great contest between Kent
-and Surrey, celebrated in a ballad of sixty-five verses,
-in which</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>The fieldsmen, stationed on the lawn,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Well able to endure,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Their loins with snow-white satin vests</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>That day had guarded sure</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>and it is related that in this match also the Duke of
-Dorset was playing for the honour of his county, for
-we are told that</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Young Dorset, like a baron bold,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>His jetty hair undrest,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Ran foremost of the company,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Clad in a milk-white vest.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>Despite the efforts of the duke and the men of Kent, they
-were defeated by Surrey, and the duke met with disaster:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>“O heavy news!” the Rector cried,</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>“The Vine can witness be,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>We have not any cricketer</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>Of such account as he.”</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>It is satisfactory to learn that in the return match
-Surrey was beaten.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>We come now to the period when “the gay Duke
-of Dorset became ambassador in Paris,” and “his
-encouragement of the Parisian ballet was the amazement
-and envy of his age.” It is entertaining, and
-rather sad, to read both his official despatches from
-Paris and his private letters to his friends, and to reflect
-that while he was writing to the Duchess of Devonshire,
-“I suppose you will hear talk of my ball, it has made
-a great noise at Paris”; or to the Foreign Office, “It is
-hardly possible to conceive a moment of more perfect
-tranquility than the present, the French government,
-free from the late causes of its anxiety, appears entirely
-bent upon improving the advantages of peace,”—it
-is sad, and certainly ironical, to reflect that the taking
-of the Bastille was distant by a paltry three years.
-With no foreboding of those tremendous events,
-which more than any war, more even than the
-career of Napoleon, were to change the fortunes of
-humanity, the Court of France and the English envoy
-continued on their course of enjoyment. The Duke of
-Dorset became, naturally, extremely popular in Paris.
-He was himself not sure that he wholly liked the
-French:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>All the French are <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">aimable, si vous voulez</span></i>, but they are
-capricious and inconstant, especially the women [<em>he wrote
-home to the Duchess of Devonshire</em>]; in short, I have really no
-friend here but Mrs. B. [Marie Antoinette], and then I see
-her so seldom that I forget half what I want to say to her.
-The Frenchmen are all jealous and treacherous, so that
-between the capriciousness of the fair sex and the want of
-confidence I have in the other <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">je me sens vraiment malheureux</span></i>,
-I assure you, my dearest duchess.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>But the French had no corresponding fault to find.
-The English ambassador was princely and lavish; he
-was spending money, as he himself owned, at the rate
-of £11,000 a year; he was greatly in the Queen’s
-favour, so greatly that he has been included by certain
-authorities (notably Tilly) in their lists of her lovers.
-Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, who, although an inaccurate
-was yet a contemporary writer, says that this was not
-so, and that he has seen a letter-case, preserved by the
-duke, full of Marie Antoinette’s notes addressed to
-him. Wraxall says that they were written on private
-concerns, commissions that she requested him to
-execute for her, principally regarding English articles
-of dress or ornament, and other innocent and unimportant
-matters. Whether Dorset was or was not
-her lover is not of the smallest importance; and surely
-no one would grudge, at this distance of time, any
-pleasure that a princess so young and so unfortunate
-might have enjoyed in life.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>A question in which the Duke was naturally much
-interested was the affair of the diamond necklace.
-His despatches to the Foreign Office are full of
-references to the story, from August 1785 onwards:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The usually credited account is, that the Cardinal [de
-Rohan] has forged an order from the Queen to the Jeweller
-of the Crown to deliver to him diamonds to the amount of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>1,600,000 livres, and which diamonds he actually received.
-What makes this event the more extraordinary is that the
-Cardinal is known to be a man of extremely good parts, and
-is in the enjoyment of the greatest honour and revenues to
-which any subject in the Church can aspire.</p>
-
-<p class='c049'>And again:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Mme. de la Motte, from an apprehension that her life
-is in danger, affects to have lost her senses. The jailer, upon
-entering her room the day before yesterday, was some time
-before he discovered her, and at length found her under her
-bed, quite naked.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>It would, of course, take up too much space to give
-all Dorset’s despatches on this subject. I mention them
-chiefly because a large proportion of the diamonds
-composing the original necklace are at Knole, one half
-having been purchased by the Duke of Dorset after
-the necklace had been split up and brought to England,
-and the other half by the Duke of Sutherland. This,
-at least, is the tradition; and there is some evidence to
-support it, in a receipt among the Knole papers:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><strong>Received</strong> of his Grace the <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> of <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> nine hundred
-and seventy-five pounds for a brilliant necklace.</p>
-
-<table class='table4' summary=''>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>£975</td>
- <td class='c053'>For Mr. <span class='fss'>JEFFERYS</span> and self, <span class='fss'>W M JONES</span>.</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c049'>and this receipt is endorsed “Paid 1790,” which
-tallies with the date when the necklace was sold by
-De la Motte to Jefferys, a jeweller in Piccadilly. They
-are beautiful diamonds, small, but very blue, and are
-set at present in the shape of a tasselled diadem.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Another topic which temporarily exercised the duke
-while in Paris was the “very extraordinary proposal”
-made to the French Government by a M. Montgolfier to</p>
-
-<p class='c036'>construct a balloon of a certain diameter to carry sixteen
-persons. The project [<em>the despatch continues</em>] is to carry on
-a trade between this part and the South of France; Paris
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>and Marseilles are the two places named. The balloon is to
-be freighted with plate glass, and the return to be made in
-reams of paper. M. de Calonne has hitherto received the
-proposal with great coolness, as M. Montgolfier requires an
-advance of 60,000 livres Tournais. It is, however, under
-contemplation, as M. Montgolfier has declared his intention
-of making the offer to our government in case he does not
-meet with encouragement here. It is said that the Comptroller
-General rather discourages enterprises of this sort, as
-any further progress in the art of conducting balloons might
-tend to prejudice the revenues of the City of Paris, which
-will shortly be surrounded by a wall, the cost of which is
-estimated at four or five millions.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>The duke naturally thought M. Montgolfier’s plans
-nonsensical:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>I should almost scruple to mention to your Lordship an
-undertaking so extraordinary [<em>he says</em>] had I not heard from
-exceedingly good authority that such a plan is seriously in
-agitation. Great credit is given to M. Montgolfier’s superior
-skill in these matters, and that gentleman’s friends are
-sanguine in their expectations of his success. The weight
-he proposes to carry <em>exceeds that of a waggon-load</em>!</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>He gives some further details of what M. Montgolfier,
-who “pretends to have at last discovered means
-of directing the course of Balloons,” proposes to do:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>He has obtained the sanction of M. de Calonne for his
-first experiment, which is to be made the first day of next
-May, when he engages to depart from a town in Auvergne,
-distant from Paris 150 miles, and to descend at or near this
-City in the space of seven hours.</p>
-
-<p class='c049'>A month later he writes:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The government has at last accepted M. Montgolfier’s
-proposal. 30,000 livres are to be granted to him in advance
-for the experiment, and if it succeeds the whole of his
-expenses will be paid without any examination of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>accounts, a pension granted to him, and every honorary
-recompense bestowed on him to which he can aspire. He
-pretends to have discovered the means of guiding his
-machine, but it was not till after his project to England, in
-case of refusal here, that it was accepted.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>On such topics as the diamond necklace and M.
-Montgolfier and current affairs Dorset beguiled his
-leisure and that of the Foreign Office. There is no
-indication that he detected any signs of the trouble in
-store. It is true that occasionally he writes in this
-strain:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Their Majesties, the Dauphin, and the rest of the Royal
-family, are removed from Fontainebleau to Versailles. The
-expenses attending these journeys of the Court is incredible.
-The duc de Polignac told me that he had given orders for
-2115 horses for this service.... Besides this, an adequate
-proportion of horses are ordered for the removal of the heavy
-baggage.... It is asserted that M. de Calonne will be
-under the necessity of borrowing at least eight millions of
-livres next year,</p>
-
-<p class='c049'>and that after the fall of the Bastille he was moved to
-write: “I really think it necessary that some public
-caution be given to put those upon their guard who
-may propose to visit this part of the continent.” But
-beyond these occasional comments he does not seem to
-have been troubled by any thoughts of the future. He
-did not foresee that his friend “Mrs. B.,” to whom after
-his return to England he continued to supply English
-gloves, would lose upon the scaffold that little head
-which had carried so gaily the butterfly or the frigate,
-or that within two or three years’ time the English
-newspapers would be writing: “The Duke of Dorset’s
-seat at Knole is a place of rendezvous for the banished
-French <em>noblesse</em> at this time resident in England,” or
-that he would be entertaining there as a fugitive his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>friend Champcenetz, a young officer in the Swiss
-Guards and author of a “<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Petit traité de l’amour des
-femmes pour les sots</span></i>.” Dorset would no doubt have
-proved a perfectly adequate ambassador in normal
-times, but that vast situation with its infinite ramifications
-was beyond an intellect that accepted for granted
-the existing régime under which dukes were born for
-pleasure and labourers were not. But with all the foresight
-in the world it is difficult to see what he could
-have done, or how the course of history could have
-been affected, had he sent home grave warnings instead
-of babbling of the diamond necklace and M. Montgolfier.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>There was another distraction for him in Paris:
-Giannetta Baccelli, an Italian dancer. The duke seems
-to have lost his head completely over her for the time
-being, for he gave her his Garter to wear as a hair-ribbon,
-with “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE</span>”
-in diamonds, brought her home to England with him,
-sent her to a ball in Sevenoaks wearing the family
-jewels—which provoked a great scandal in the county—and
-gave her one of the towers at Knole, which to
-this day remains, through the mispronunciation of the
-English servants, “Shelley’s Tower.” It was for this
-lady, or so the rumour ran, that he finally rejected the
-faithful and unfortunate Lady Derby. There was
-nothing that Dorset would not do for Baccelli. He had
-her painted by Reynolds, and painted and drawn by
-Gainsborough, and sculpted from the nude. He even
-wrote to his friend the Duchess of Devonshire asking
-her to do what she could for his protégée, “I don’t ask
-you to do anything for her openly,” he wrote, “but
-I hope <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">que quand il s’agit de ses talents</span></i> you will commend
-her. I assure you,” he adds rather pathetically,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>“she is <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">une bonne fille</span></i>, very clever, and <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">un excellent
-cœur</span></i>, and her dancing is really wonderful.”</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Gainsborough’s large full-length portrait of Baccelli,
-originally at Knole, has been sold; but his pencil
-sketch for it remains, rather faded and very delicate
-of line. It is drawn in the ball-room: Baccelli stands
-on a model’s throne, pointing her toe and lifting up her
-skirt; Gainsborough himself stands in front of her,
-a palette in his hand, so that he turns his back towards
-the person looking at the drawing; the Chinese page,
-in a round hat, stands by. It reconstructs with great
-vividness the scene of her posing in the ball-room. The
-only pity is that the artist should not have drawn in
-the duke, who was surely there, looking on, and
-criticizing and making suggestions. The receipt for
-the big picture is at Knole, though no mention is made
-of the drawing (<em>see illustration facing p. <a href='#Page_208'>208</a></em>):</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><strong>Received</strong> of his Grace the <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> of <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> one hundred
-guineas in full for two ¾ portraits of his Grace, one full-length
-of Mad<sup>sle</sup> Baccelli, two Landskips, and one sketch of a
-beggar boy and girl.</p>
-
-<table class='table4' summary=''>
- <tr>
- <td class='c027'>£105</td>
- <td class='c053'><em class='gesperrt'><span class='fss'>THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH</span></em>, <em>June 15, 1784</em>.</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c042'>One of the “two ¾ portraits of his Grace” mentioned
-in this receipt is the one now in the ball-room, one of
-the most beautiful Gainsboroughs I know—included
-with five other pictures for the ludicrous sum of £105.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Reynolds’ portrait of the dancer shows a mischievous
-and attractive face, with slightly slanting
-eyes, peeping out from behind a mask which she holds
-up in her hand. The duke even went to the length of
-ordering the portraits of the servants he had provided
-for her, and among the collection of servants’ portraits
-in Black Boy Passage are Daniel Taylor and Elinor
-Law, servants of Mad<sup>me</sup> Baccelli; Mrs. Edwards,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>attendant on Mad<sup>me</sup> Baccelli; and Philip Louvaux,
-servant to Mad<sup>me</sup> Baccelli. She evidently, with her
-servants and her tower, had a regular establishment at
-Knole, and many receipts bearing her signature witness
-the duke’s generosity towards her: “Received 7th
-April 1786 of Mr. Burlington [the agent] the sum of
-fifty pounds on account of his Grace the Duke of
-Dorset, Jannette Baccelli,” and so on. They had
-several children, all of whom died in babyhood, except
-one, alluded to in the following letter: “The duke has
-a very fine boy to whom Baccelli is mother, now at
-school near Knole. This, we think, is the only surviving
-progeny of the alliance,” but, much as I should
-like to know, I have no idea what became of this
-romantically-begotten scion, or even of whether he
-lived to grow up.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Perhaps the “heterogenous housekeeper” of Horace
-Walpole’s letter was Baccelli’s importation, for in
-another place he writes disgustedly of “Knole, which
-disappointed me much. But unless you know how vast
-and venerable I thought I remembered it, I cannot
-give you the measure of my surprise; but then there
-was a trapes of a housekeeper, who, I suppose, was the
-Baccelli’s dresser, and who put me out of humour....”</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>The connection seems to have lasted for a long time,
-for it is not until the end of 1789 that we come across
-an old newspaper cutting announcing with curious
-candour that “the Duke of Dorset and the Baccelli
-have just separated, and she is said to have behaved
-very well,” so that she eclipsed the records of Nancy
-Parsons, of Mrs. Elizabeth Armistead, and of poor
-Lady Derby. It is, I think, a not unpicturesque
-incident in the story of Knole—the dancer sitting in
-those stately rooms to Reynolds and Gainsborough, or
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>descending from her tower to walk in the garden with
-the duke, attended by the Chinese boy carrying her
-gloves, her fan, or her parasol. Those were the days
-when the Clock Tower, oddly recalling a pagoda, was
-but newly erected; when the great rose-and-gold
-Chinese screen in the Poets’ Parlour was new and
-brilliant in the sun; when the Coromandel chests were
-new toys; and the Italian pictures and the statuary
-brought back by the duke from Rome were still
-pointed out as the latest acquisitions. And no doubt
-then the statue of the Baccelli reposing in her lovely
-nudity on her couch was not relegated to the attic,
-where a subsequent and more prudish generation sent
-it, but stood somewhere in the living-rooms, where it
-might be seen and admired in the presence of the
-smiling model. Amusement was caused too, no doubt,
-among the guests of the duke and the dancer by Sir
-Joshua’s portrait of the Chinese boy squatting on his
-heels, a fan in his hand, and the square toes of his red
-shoes protruding from beneath his robes. It was more
-original to have a Chinese page than to have a black
-one; everybody had a black one: “Dear Mama,”
-wrote the Duchess of Devonshire to her mother,
-“George Hanger has sent me a Black boy, eleven
-years old and very honest, but the duke don’t like me
-having a black, and yet I cannot bear the poor wretch
-being ill-used; if you liked him instead of Michel
-I will send him, he will be a cheap servant and you will
-make a Christian of him and a good boy; if you don’t
-like him they say Lady Rockingham wants one.” But
-the black page at Knole, of which there had always
-been one since the days of Lady Anne Clifford, and
-who had always been called John Morocco regardless
-of what his true name might be, had been replaced by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>a Chinaman ever since the house steward had killed
-the John Morocco of the moment in a fight in Black
-Boy’s Passage. This particular Chinese boy whom I
-have mentioned, whose real name was Hwang-a-Tung,
-but whom the English servants, much as they called
-Baccelli Madam Shelley, more conveniently renamed
-Warnoton—fell on fortunate days when he came to
-Knole, for not only was he painted by Sir Joshua, but
-he was educated at the duke’s expense at the Grammar
-School in Sevenoaks.</p>
-<div id='i_192' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_192fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>HWANG-A-TUNG<br /><br /><span class='sc'>A Chinese boy, page to the 3rd Duke of Dorset</span><br /><br /><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='sc'>Sir Joshua Reynolds</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>
- <h3 class='c016'>§ iv</h3>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c044'>The year after the parting in which the Baccelli was
-reported to have behaved so well, the duke married.
-His bride was an heiress, Arabella Diana Cope, who
-brought the duke, according to his own statement, a
-dowry of £140,000. She must have been an imposing
-figure, if one may trust Hoppner’s portrait, which
-shows her walking in a white muslin dress, a little dog
-frisking round her feet, and tall feathers on her head;
-and Wraxall, who certainly knew her, says, with the
-touch of awe and even dislike perceptible between the
-lines of all his accounts of her, that “her person, though
-not feminine, might then be denominated handsome;
-and, if her mind was not highly cultivated or refined,
-she could boast of intellectual endowments that fitted
-her for the active business of life.” Wraxall writes,
-possibly, with a prejudiced pen, for at one time he was
-employed in sorting and classifying the Knole manuscripts,
-and in this matter his views clashed with those
-of her Grace and her Grace’s second husband; the
-business was abandoned half way through, but
-Wraxall’s trace remains in the neat, ejaculatory notes
-which I find on the reverse side of many of the papers—“curious!” or “not without merit!” This may
-account for the subtle spitefulness of his remarks.
-Nevertheless, I imagine that Knole perceived under
-the duchess’ régime a considerable contrast with the
-days of the merry and pleasure-loving Baccelli. The
-new duchess was a severe and orderly lady, “under the
-dominion of no passion except the love of money, her
-taste for power and pleasure always subordinate to her
-economy,” and the duke himself, perhaps under the
-influence of his wife, began to turn from his extravagant
-ways towards parsimony, curtailing his expenses in spite
-of the enormous increase in his income, and becoming,
-moreover, irascible, fretful, morbid, and quarrelsome.
-The days of his patronage of opera and Parisian ballet
-were over, the days when he was confident that the talk
-of his ball in Paris would reach the ears of the Duchess
-of Devonshire in London. His expenses at Knole were
-reported to be reduced to four or five thousand a year,
-yet he could not endure to hear the praise of other
-houses, for Knole he considered “as possessing everything.”
-It is not an attractive picture of the gay duke’s
-declining years. Hoppner, who had been staying at
-Knole for nine or ten days painting the three children,
-described the duke as most unpleasant in his temper,
-anxious and saving, humoursome and uncomfortable,
-“not suffering the dinner to be all placed on the table,”
-and when, playing at Casino, he lost fifteen shillings to
-Hoppner he “fretted when the cards he wished
-for were taken up.” The three children were brought
-up with the utmost severity; they were scarcely
-allowed to speak in the presence of their elders; and
-little Lord Middlesex was sent out of the room in disgrace
-at luncheon for asking his sister for the salt.
-Yet I fancy that the real control, under a show of submission,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>was exercised by that commanding figure,
-the duchess. She never betrayed any signs of exasperation,
-whether the duke sent away the dinner, or
-grumbled that Neckar was a man of no family, or that
-Mr. Hailes, the secretary, was a man of no family
-either—much to Mr. Hailes’ discomposure. This
-dwelling upon family was one of his many crotchets,
-and he was fond of pointing out that the Sackvilles
-had never branched, but remained the only family of
-that name in the Kingdom, and would draw attention
-to the coincidence that Sackville Street was the longest
-street in London without branch or turning. Prudent
-and long-suffering, no doubt the duchess had in her
-mind the advantages she intended to secure when she
-should be no longer a wife and sick-nurse, but a widow.
-Baccelli’s statue was in the attic, and Mr. Ozias
-Humphrey, of the Royal Academy, was quite out of
-favour because he went to Knole in the duke’s absence
-and took possession of a room without previously
-showing proper attention to the duchess. She presided
-calmly, while the duke fretted and economized, and
-quarrelled with his friends, and deteriorated in
-intellect, and became a prey to gloom, and grew old
-and sad before his time; she presided unruffled, for all
-the while she rested satisfied in her knowledge of his
-testamentary dispositions. He was, in fact, although
-only in the fifties, already a very ill man. He was
-falling rapidly into a deeper and deeper melancholy,
-and there is a tradition that towards the end he could
-only be soothed by the playing of two musicians in a
-neighbouring room—the room now called the Music
-Room, in which hang, rather ironically, Reynolds’
-portrait of the Baccelli peeping out from behind her
-mask, and Vigée Lebrun’s portrait of the grave, greyhaired
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>lady, Arabella Diana, Duchess of Dorset. He
-sat in the library, his hands fumbling at the breast-pin
-in his <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">jabot</span></i>, while the soothing strains reached him,
-veiled by distance. Veiled by distance, too, the
-memories of his past floated to him on the music, and
-melted with the music into the solace of a confused and
-wistful harmony. The past, so luminous, was not
-wholly lost, since in memory it was still recoverable.
-There had been the fun of the masked ball in Rome;
-there had been the clandestine hours of tenderness
-with Betty Hamilton; there had been Versailles;
-there had been the days when he could glance down
-through the window and see Baccelli flirting with Sir
-Joshua on the lawn. The musicians in the neighbouring
-room played on. He had been twenty-four when
-Knole had come to him; he had not had to wait for
-his good things until he was grown too sober to enjoy
-them. It had been so easy to accept the urbanity, the
-<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">empressement</span></i>, everyone was eager to lavish; so pleasant
-to move in a world so bland, so obliging, and so polite.
-No effort had been necessary; the fat quails had
-dropped ready roasted into his mouth. No effort: a
-smile there; a gracious word here; tossed alike with a
-casual, if good-humoured, contempt. Surveying himself
-in his mirror while his valet knelt to buckle the
-diamond Order round his knee, flicking with a lace
-pocket-handkerchief at a few grains of powder fallen
-upon his coat, he had been secure in the safe conduct
-of his great name and his personal charm. And if the
-faint ghosts whispered round him now in the quiet
-library at Knole—a fair head thrust at him upon a pike,
-the reproachful eyes of Lady Derby, the stilled limbs
-of those half-Italian babies that the Baccelli had borne
-him—why, he could banish them: Lord Middlesex slept
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>in his nursery upstairs, and the tall duchess watched,
-effaced though vigilant, from a corner of the library.
-But when she rose and came towards him, thinking that
-he had fallen asleep in his nodding over the fire, he repulsed
-her fretfully, with the gesture of an old man, and
-wondered at himself in his confused and unhappy mind
-for this anomalous discourtesy towards a woman.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Next door to the Music Room hangs the lovely
-full-length of the three children, painted by Hoppner
-while on that uncomfortable visit. One is bound to
-admit that their appearance bears no impress of the
-grand, solemn, and gloomy household in which they
-were being brought up. The little boy, rosy, flaxen-curled,
-in high nankeen trousers and a soft frilly shirt,
-has his arms round his baby sister, who, with bare
-toes, is looking sulkily at her elder sister’s shoes; they
-are out in the park; nothing could be more natural
-or unconstrained. My grandfather used to show me
-the baby girl, telling me that while Hoppner was
-seeking for a pose for his picture a grievance arose
-between the two little girls because one had shoes and
-the other had not, and that on Lord Middlesex taking
-his sister into his arms for consolation, Hoppner rushed
-at them exclaiming that he could not improve upon
-the charm of this accidental pose. I think this story
-has a convincing ring about it. Certainly it was the
-only anecdote which my grandfather had to tell of
-any picture in the house; usually he did not know a
-Hoppner from a Vandyck, a Kneller from a Gainsborough.
-He said that he had the story straight from
-his mother, Lady Elizabeth, the sulky baby of Hoppner’s
-picture, and the young woman in fancy dress of
-Beechey’s portrait in the same room.</p>
-<div id='i_196' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_196fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p><span class='left'>JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE</span> <span class='right'>ARABELLA DIANA</span><br /><span class='left'><span class='small'><span class='sc'>3rd Duke of Dorset</span></span></span> <span class='right'><span class='small'><span class='sc'>3rd Duchess of Dorset</span></span></span><br /><br />THE EARL OF MIDDLESEX<br /><br /><span class='left'>LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE</span> <span class='right'>LADY MARY SACKVILLE</span><br /><br /><span class='small'><em>From a silhouette by</em> <span class='sc'>A. T. Terstan</span>, <em>1797. The property of</em> <span class='sc'>Lady Sackville</span></span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>The only pleasant aspect of these later years of the
-gay duke’s life is his friendship and constant employment
-of the artists of his day. Before he fell into what
-Wraxall calls his “mental alienation” he counted
-Reynolds among his intimates, was a pall-bearer at his
-funeral in Westminster Abbey, and accumulated so
-many works of that artist at Knole, including one at
-the back of which is written, “Sir Joshua Reynolds,
-painted by himself and presented to his Grace the Duke
-of Dorset in 1780,” that what was once the Crimson
-Drawing-Room became known as the Reynolds Room;
-and the Reynolds Room it is to this day. Madame
-Vigée Lebrun stayed at Knole, which she found too
-gloomy for her taste, the duchess warning her, the
-first time they sat down to dinner, “You will find it
-very dull, for we never speak at table.” Ozias
-Humphrey, before he was so unfortunate as to offend
-the duchess, contributed a number of canvases to the
-duke’s collection:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Two pastels, 12 guineas each.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Knightsbridge</span>, <em>June 25th, 1792</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<table class='table2' summary='account-books'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='80%' />
-<col width='7%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-<col width='5%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr>
- <th class='c011'></th>
- <th class='c022'>£</th>
- <th class='c022'><em>s.</em></th>
- <th class='c010'><em>d.</em></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>His Grace the Duke of Dorset to Ozias Humphrey, for a portrait in miniature</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c022'>16</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>A small crayon picture of the crossing-sweeper at Hyde Park Corner with a rich gold frame and glass</td>
- <td class='c022'>21</td>
- <td class='c022'>0</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>A portrait of the Duchess of Dorset in crayons</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c022'>12</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c022'><hr /></td>
- <td class='c010'><hr /></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c011'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c022'>£50</td>
- <td class='c022'>8</td>
- <td class='c010'>0</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='c037'><strong>Received</strong> of his Grace the Duke of <span class='fss'>DORSET</span> the sum
-of fifty pounds in full for the amount of the annexed bill.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>OZIAS HUMPHREY.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>It is perhaps significant of his new economy that the
-duke ignored the eight shillings.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>With Opie, too, he was on friendly terms, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>amongst the other receipts at Knole is one from Opie
-for the portrait of Edmund Burke for £24 3<em>s.</em> There
-is also a letter at Knole from Burke, who probably
-knew his Grace’s weakness for his house:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Duke St.</span>, <em>Sept, 14, 1791</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>My Lord</span>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'>I am just now honoured with your Grace’s letter, and
-am extremely concerned that it is not in my power to accept
-your Grace’s most obliging invitation. I have great respect
-for its present possessor; and as for the place, I, who am
-something of a lover of all antiquities, must be a very great
-admirer of Knole. I think it the most interesting thing in
-England. It is pleasant to have preserved in one place the
-succession of the several tastes of ages; a pleasant habitation
-for the time, a grand repository of whatever has been pleasant
-at all times. This is not the sort of place which every banker,
-contractor, or Nabob can create at his pleasure.... I
-would not change Knole if I were the Duke of Dorset for all
-the foppish structures of this age.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Other receipts at Knole make it clear that the
-average price for a half-length was £37, while for a
-full-length by Reynolds the duke paid £300.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>There is also a mention in a contemporary diary that
-the duke asked Hoppner for his portrait, which he
-promised should be hung next to Sir Joshua’s portrait
-of himself. The diary notes that Ozias Humphrey’s
-<cite>Selbstbildnis</cite> is “still in the room, but has been removed
-from its place next the Reynolds.” It is “still in the
-room” now, a man with a delicate face and a pointed
-nose, on the wall with Gainsborough’s <cite>Lord George
-Sackville</cite>, Sir Joshua’s <cite>Samuel Foote</cite>, his <cite>Oliver Goldsmith</cite>,
-his <cite>Peg Woffington</cite>, and his own portrait; but
-the Hoppner for which the duke asked is not there,
-and never was; no doubt Hoppner was not sufficiently
-encouraged by the uncomfortable visit to send so
-valuable an acknowledgment.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>At this period England lay under the fear of an
-invasion by the young victorious Bonaparte, and a
-scheme was set on foot for raising a corps of infantry
-to be called the Knole volunteers; I recently came
-across some of their accoutrements in an old locker
-at Knole; they had an amateurish look. A document
-bearing many blots and the signatures of all the
-volunteers—or, in some cases, their mark—is also at
-Knole:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='fss'>HIS GRACE</span> <em>the</em> <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>DORSET’S</span> offer of raising a Corps of
-Infantry, to consist of Sixty Men, to be called the <em>Knole
-Volunteers</em>, for the purpose of preserving Order and protecting
-property in the Parish and Neighbourhood of
-Sevenoaks having been accepted, and George Stone, Stephen
-Woodgate, and Thomas Mortimer Kelson being appointed
-officers by his Majesty to command the same, they propose
-the following Rules and Regulations, which they hope will
-be cheerfully submitted to by all who have voluntarily come
-forward to offer their services in the said Corps at this
-important Crisis:</p>
-
- <dl class='dl_2'>
- <dt>&nbsp;</dt>
- <dd>1st. <em>That</em> each individual attend twice a week for the purpose of exercising from
- half after Six o’clock to half after Eight o’clock in the Evening.
- </dd>
- <dt>&nbsp;</dt>
- <dd>2nd. As a regular attendance is particularly essential, it is proposed that the small Sum
- of Sixpence be paid by every person not present to answer to his Name when called over at
- the time appointed, unless it appears he is prevented by Sickness, which forfeits, should
- there be any, shall be spent by the Corps at the end of the year in any manner they shall
- think proper.
- </dd>
- <dt>&nbsp;</dt>
- <dd>3rd. That every Man appears clean and properly accoutered.
- </dd>
- <dt>&nbsp;</dt>
- <dd>4thly. That they do their utmost Endeavour to learn their Exercise, paying proper respect
- to their Officers.
- </dd>
- </dl>
-
-<p class='c037'><em>Finally</em>, they wish it to be clearly understood that their
-Services shall not be required to extend further than the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>Parish and Neighbourhood of Sevenoaks, unless it be for
-the purpose of guarding Prisoners or Convoys as far as one
-Stage.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span>, <em>22 May 1798</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c042'>But it is improbable that the duke had much to do
-with the raising or organisation of this corps, for during
-the last twenty months of his life his irascibility turned
-to definite melancholia, and he remained at Knole
-more or less alone with the duchess keeping a jealous
-guard over him. It is impossible not to draw the
-parallel between his end and that of Charles the
-Restoration earl, his great-grandfather, remembering
-especially the wildness and extravagance in which
-both had spent their youth; but whereas Charles was
-carried away to Bath at the end by that sordid woman
-Ann Roche, the duke was carefully tended in his own
-great house by the reserved and prudent woman he
-had married, too dignified to be accused save under the
-veil of polite phrases of intriguing to get the control of
-his affairs into her own hands. So he sank gradually,
-and in 1799, at the age of fifty-four, he died, when it
-was found that he had so disposed of his lands, his
-fortune, and his boroughs that Arabella Diana was
-left with so great an accumulation of wealth and of
-parliamentary influence as had “scarcely ever vested,
-among us, in a female, and a widow.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX<br /> Knole in the Nineteenth Century</h2>
-</div>
-
-<h3 class='c014'>§ i</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c050'>The new Duke of Dorset was only five years old
-when his father’s dignities descended so prematurely
-on to his small yellow head, but he
-had a capable mentor in the person of his mother, and
-before two years had elapsed her authority was reinforced
-by that of a stepfather. This was Lord Whitworth,
-recently Ambassador to the Courts of Catherine
-II. and Paul I. The circumstances of Lord Whitworth’s
-recall had been in the least degree mysterious.
-Various rumours were current; amongst others, that
-he had offended the Czar in the following somewhat
-ludicrous manner: the Czar having forbidden that
-any empty carriage should pass before a certain part
-of his palace, Lord Whitworth, uninformed of the
-regulation, ordered his coach to meet him at a point
-which would entail passing over the forbidden area.
-The sentry held up the coach; the servants persisted
-in driving on; they came to blows; and the Czar,
-when the affair came to his ears, ordered Lord Whitworth’s
-servants to be beaten, the horses to be beaten,
-and the coach to be beaten too. Lord Whitworth, in a
-fit of rage and petulance, dismissed his servants,
-ordered the horses to be shot, and the coach to be
-broken into pieces and thrown into the Neva.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>He appears to have had at least one trait in common
-with the Sackvilles themselves, at any rate in early life,
-for it was said of him that he was “more distinguished
-during this period of his career by success in gallantries
-than by any professional merits or brilliant services.”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>Even at the time of his marriage, when, returning from
-Russia to England, he found available the wealthy and
-desirable relict of his friend the late Dorset, he was
-heavily entangled with a lady named Countess
-Gerbetzow, whose partiality for the English Ambassador
-had been such that she had placed her own fortune
-at his disposal for the purpose of clothing himself and
-defraying the expenses of his household. In return for
-this affection and assistance Lord Whitworth promised
-her marriage as soon as she could divorce her husband;
-but during the course of the divorce proceedings the
-Ambassador was recalled, and left for England on the
-understanding that Countess Gerbetzow would follow
-him there as soon as she conveniently could. Meanwhile
-he made the acquaintance of the more eligible
-duchess, became engaged to her, and lost no time in
-marrying her. Countess Gerbetzow had, however, by
-now obtained her divorce, and was travelling across
-Europe on her way to England: at Leipzic she learnt
-from a newspaper that Lord Whitworth in London was
-engaged to the Duchess of Dorset. Indignant and outraged,
-she flew post-haste to London. Too late: she
-arrived only to find that the marriage had already been
-celebrated. But she would not allow the matter to rest
-there, and “her reclamations, which were of too delicate
-and serious a nature to be despised, at length compelled
-the duchess, most reluctantly, to pay her Muscovite
-rival no less a sum than ten thousand pounds.”
-Whether the duchess continued to think Lord Whitworth
-worth the price is not recorded. If he was an
-expensive husband, he was certainly from the worldly
-standpoint a very successful one, and that was a standpoint
-the duchess was not likely to despise. He became
-successively Ambassador to the French Republic,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and an earl, but “we may
-nevertheless be allowed to doubt,” observes Wraxall,
-who claims Lord Whitworth’s personal friendship,</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>whether a humbler matrimonial alliance might not have been
-attended with more felicity&nbsp;... united to a woman of
-inferior fortune and condition&nbsp;... he would certainly have
-presented an object of more rational envy and respect than
-as the second husband of a duchess, elevated by her connections
-to dignities and offices, subsisting on her
-possessions, and who will probably ere long inter him with
-an earl’s coronet on his coffin.—I return [<em>says Wraxall,
-having thus dismissed the pair</em>] to Marie Antoinette.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>I doubt whether the little duke was allowed a very
-exuberant enjoyment of his boyhood with this couple
-in authority over him. Children were strictly brought
-up in that generation, and it is clear that the duchess
-was by nature a severe and not very sympathetic
-woman. The little boy and his sisters must have been
-docile and well behaved in the great house and gardens
-which belonged to him in name only, but which in
-practice were entirely under his mother’s control, for
-her to alter the windows as she pleased, and to put
-Lord Whitworth’s cognizance in the stained glass
-beside the Sackville arms. I visualize—I scarcely know
-why—the duchess and Lord Whitworth almost as the
-jailers of the small inheritor. There is nothing to
-justify such a theory; and, indeed, very little record
-remains of that short life: there is his rocking-horse—an
-angular, long-necked, maneless animal, which in due
-course became my property, after passing through the
-two intervening generations—his brief friendship with
-Byron as a schoolboy, and his portrait as a tall, fair
-young man in dark blue academical robes. There is very
-little else to mark his passage across the stage of Knole.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>He came, late in time, of a race never remarkable for
-strength of character, and the obituary notice which
-described him as having possessed gentle and engaging
-manners, tinctured by shyness, and of amiable temper,
-probably came nearer to the truth than the generality of
-such eulogies. Byron has told us nothing in the least
-illuminating of his friend. He has left a long address
-in verse, included in <cite>Hours of Idleness</cite>, in which he is
-careful to explain that the duke was his fag at Harrow,</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Whom still affection taught me to defend,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And made me less a tyrant than a friend,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Though the harsh custom of our youthful band</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Bade</em> thee <em>obey, and gave me to command</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>and equally careful to remind him that they might in
-later years meet in the House of Lords,</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>Since the same senate, nay, the same debate,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>May one day claim our suffrage for the state.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>The rest of the poem is an exhortation to the duke,
-whose “passive tutors, fearful to dispraise,” may</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c045'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>View ducal errors with indulgent eyes,</em></div>
- <div class='line'><em>And wink at faults they tremble to chastise</em>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c049'>to be worthy of the record his ancestors have left him;
-of he who “called, proud boast! the British drama forth,”
-and of that other one, Charles, “The pride of princes, and
-the boast of song”—to become, in fine, “Not Fortune’s
-minion, but her noblest son.” One suspects, in fact, that
-Byron himself viewed the errors of his ducal fag with
-an indulgent eye, and the depth of the friendship, on
-Byron’s part at least, is easily measured by the letters
-he wrote on hearing of the duke’s death—letters whose
-cynicism is perhaps atoned for by their frankness:</p>
-<div id='i_204' class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_204fp.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>GEORGE JOHN FREDERICK SACKVILLE, <span class='sc'>4th Duke of Dorset</span><br /><br /><span class='left'>LADY MARY SACKVILLE</span> <span class='right'>LADY ELIZABETH SACKVILLE</span><br /><br /><span class='small'><em>From the portrait at Knole by</em> <span class='sc'>Hoppner</span></span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>I have just been—or, rather, ought to be—very much
-shocked by the death of the Duke of Dorset [<em>he wrote to
-Tom Moore</em>]. We were at school together, and then I was
-passionately attached to him. Since, we have never met—but
-once, I think, in 1805—and it would be a paltry
-affectation to pretend that I had any feeling for him worth
-the name. But there was a time in my life when this event
-would have broken my heart; and all I can say for it now
-is that—it is not worth breaking.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Adieu—it is all a farce.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>And he alludes to it once more, a fortnight later,
-again writing to Moore, to say that “the death of poor
-Dorset—and the recollection of what I once felt, and
-ought to have felt now, but could not,” has set him
-pondering.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>That, then, is all which the boy could leave behind
-him—that he should set Byron, for a moment, pondering.
-From such slight traces—the English little boy
-of the Hoppner, the old-fashioned rocking-horse, and
-the portrait of the fair young man—we have to reconstruct
-as best we can an entire personality. We have to
-figure him running about the garden at Knole; kissing
-his mother’s hand—surely never throwing his arms
-about her—his grave little bow to Lord Whitworth;
-the “your Grace” of his nurse’s behests; the brief
-contact with the dazzling personality of Byron at
-Harrow; the stir with which he cannot have failed to
-anticipate the advantages of his life and his emancipation.
-We have the account of him playing tennis, when
-a ball hit him in the eye, and obliged him to be for ever
-after “continually applying leeches and blisters and
-ointments and other disagreeable remedies,” and to
-be “very moderate in all exercises that heat or agitate
-the frame.” We have, finally, his tragic end at the age
-of twenty-one, to which additional poignancy is lent
-by the fact that he had recently become engaged.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>He had gone to Ireland, where his stepfather was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>then Viceroy, to stay with his friend and quondam
-school-fellow Lord Powerscourt. On the day after his
-arrival the two young men, with Lord Powerscourt’s
-brother, Mr. Wingfield, went out hunting, and after
-a fruitless morning they were about to return home
-when they put up a hare:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The hare made for the inclosures on Kilkenny Hill. They
-had gone but a short distance, when the Duke, who was an
-excellent forward horseman, rode at a wall, which was in
-fact a more dangerous obstacle than it appeared to be....
-The Duke’s mare attempted to cover all at one spring, and
-cleared the wall, but, alighting among the stones on the
-other side, threw herself headlong, and, turning in the air,
-came with great violence upon her rider, who had not lost
-his seat; he undermost, with his back on one of the large
-stones, and she crushing him with all her weight on his
-chest, and struggling with all her might to recover her legs.
-The mare at length disentangled herself and galloped away.
-The Duke sprang upon his feet, and attempted to follow her,
-but soon found himself unable to stand, and fell into the
-arms of Mr. Farrel, who had run to his succour, and to
-whose house he was conveyed. Lord Powerscourt, in the
-utmost anxiety and alarm, rode full speed for medical
-assistance, leaving his brother, Mr. Wingfield, to pay every
-possible attention to the Duke. But, unfortunately, the
-injury was too severe to be counteracted by human skill;
-life was extinct before any surgeon arrived. Such was the
-melancholy catastrophe that caused the untimely death of
-this young nobleman. He had been of age only three months,
-and had not taken his seat in the House of Lords [1815].</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>The author of this obituary notice was at great pains
-to clear the young man of any charge of “unseasonable
-levity”:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>It has been said [<em>he observes</em>] that the Duke, in his dying
-moments, made use of the expression “I am off.” He did
-so; but not, as has been very erroneously supposed, by way
-of heroic bravado, or in a temper of unseasonable levity; but
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>simply to signify to his attendants, who, in pulling off his
-boots, had drawn him too forward on the mattress, and
-jogged one of the chairs out of its place, that he was <em>slipping
-off</em>, and wanted their aid to help him up into his former
-position. He was the last person in the world to be guilty
-of anything like levity upon any solemn occasion, much
-less in his dying moments. The fact was, when he used
-the expression “I am off” he had become very faint and
-weak, and was glad to save himself the trouble of further
-utterance....</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Now suppose a stranger to the real character of this
-excellent youth to have heard no more of him than what he
-would be most likely to hear of one whose constitutional
-modesty concealed his virtues, namely, that he was very fond
-of cricket, that he hurt his eye with a tennis-ball, that he
-lost his life hunting, that his last words were “I am off”;
-would not a person possessed of this information, and no
-more, naturally conclude that the Duke was a young man
-of trivial mind, addicted to idle games and field sports, and
-apt to make light of serious things? How false a notion
-would such a person form of the late Duke of Dorset! As
-to the four circumstances above alluded to, if he was fond of
-cricket, it was in the evening generally that he played. When
-he hurt his eye [it was on the 7th of December] he had been
-at his books all the morning, and went between dinner and
-dusk to take one set at tennis. When he lost his life hunting,
-he had not hunted ten times the whole season. And what
-have been represented as his last words were not his last
-words; and, even if they were, they had no other meaning
-than “Pray prevent a helpless man from slipping down out
-of his place.” That he was not a mere sportsman, a mere
-idler, or a mere trifler, witness the wet eyes that streamed at
-every window in the streets of Dublin as his hearse was
-passing by; witness the train of carriages that composed his
-funeral procession; witness the throng of Nobility and
-Gentlemen that attended his remains to the sea-shore;
-witness the families he had visited in Ireland; witness the
-reception of his corpse in England; witness the amazing
-concourse of friends, tenantry, and neighbours, that came
-to hear the last rites performed, and to see him deposited in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>the tomb; witness the more endeared set of persons who
-still mean to hover round the vault where he is laid!</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ ii</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>It now became apparent how exceedingly wise had
-been the precautionary measures taken by the duchess
-in regard to her husband’s will. A distant cousin, the
-son of Lord George, succeeded to the title as fifth and
-last duke—this part of the succession was beyond the
-reach of her control—but under the terms of the will
-Knole became her property for life, and she received in
-addition, on the death of her son, an increase in her
-income of nine thousand a year. She must certainly
-have been one of the richest women in England. Lord
-Whitworth, meanwhile (till 1817), continued as Lord
-Lieutenant of Ireland, and as the originals of the
-following letters written to him by Sir Robert Peel,
-with enclosures in Peel’s handwriting, are at Knole,
-I think it not wholly irrelevant to print them here, with
-a few other notes, in view of their interest as being
-written immediately after the battle of Waterloo, and
-having, so far as I know, never before been published.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Irish Office.</span></div>
- <div class='line in8'><em>June 22nd, 1815.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>Private</em></div>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Dear Lord Whitworth</span>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c054'>You will receive by this express the official accounts
-of the most desperate and most important action
-in which the British arms have ever been engaged.
-The Gazette details all the leading particulars—I have
-just been at the War and Foreign Offices to collect any
-further information that may be interesting to you. It is
-evident that the attack was in a great degree a surprise upon
-the Allies, Bonaparte collected his troops and advanced
-with much greater rapidity than could have been expected.
-It was supposed that it would have required three days to
-bring the British force into line for a general engagement—but
-the suddenness of the attack gave them a much shorter
-time for preparation. It is said that on the 16th the Prussians
-lost fourteen thousand men.</p>
-
-<div id='i_208' class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_208fpa.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>ROCKING HORSE<br /><br /><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Once the property of the 4th Duke of Dorset</span></span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/i_208fpb.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic001'>
-<p>A RECEIPT FROM GAINSBOROUGH</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>All the private accounts attribute the success of the day
-to the Duke of Wellington’s personal courage and extraordinary
-exertions. Flint will send you some interesting
-particulars on this point.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>When the French Cavalry charged—the Duke placed
-himself in the centre of the square of infantry—a barrier
-that was impenetrable. Nothing could exceed the desperation
-with which the Cuirassiers fought. When they found
-they could make no impression on the solid mass of infantry—they
-halted in front and deliberately charged their pistols
-and shot at individuals of course without a chance of surviving.
-Lord Bathurst showed me a letter which he had
-received from Apsley. He says that Bonaparte had a
-scaffolding erected out of cannon shot from the top of which
-he saw the field of battle and the progress of the fight. When
-he found that success was almost hopeless he put himself at
-the head of the Imperial Guard—and charged in person.
-They were met by the first foot guards who overthrew them
-completely. The conduct of all the British infantry was
-beyond praise—Lord Wellington had about sixty-five
-thousand men in the field. Castlereagh told me that he
-thought Bonaparte must have lost the fourth of his army.
-This is of course mere conjecture.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Of the Regiments of Cavalry which distinguished themselves
-the Life Guards, the 10th, and the 18th are particularly
-mentioned. The field of battle after the action presented
-a most extraordinary sight. The panic of the French
-army after their failure—and the fruitlessness of the
-desperate courage they had shewn—was very great when the
-attack on our part commenced. They threw away their arms—knapsacks,
-etc., etc., in the greatest confusion. The
-Prussians gave no quarter in the pursuit.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The Duke and Blucher met for a moment after the action—in
-the village of <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">La heureuse Alliance</span></i> [sic].</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The Belgian Cavalry and some of the British did not much
-distinguish themselves. I hear that the 7th, Lord Uxbridge’s
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>own regiment, have not added much to their reputation—but
-do not quote me for this piece of intelligence. General
-Picton was shot through the head. He behaved with the
-greatest possible gallantry.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Schartzenburg [<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic</span></i>] is supposed to have crossed the Rhine
-with an immense force—perhaps 200,000 men on or about
-the 20th. I should rather say it was expected that he would
-cross about that time. There is no account from Paris—or
-from the French army.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>I have sent you a strange mixture of detached and unconnected
-particulars. I heard them one by one—in such a
-hurry—and am now obliged to write to you in such a hurry
-that I may not detain the express that I cannot reduce them
-into any shape.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The consequence of our success must infallibly lead to a
-reduction of our regular force in Ireland—forthwith I apprehend.
-The Duke entreats in the strongest manner that
-reinforcements of infantry may be sent to him.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Believe me ever
-dear Lord Whitworth,
-Yours most truly</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><em>The Lord Lieutenant</em>. <span class='fss'>ROBERT PEEL</span>.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'><span class='sc'>Paris</span></div>
- <div class='line'>Rue de la Paix—Hotel du Montblanc—</div>
- <div class='line in26'><em>July 15th, 1815</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Dear Lord Whitworth</span>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c054'>As I owe my trip to Paris in great measure to the
-kindness and readiness with which you dispensed
-with my services in Ireland—it is but just that I
-should give you some account of my proceedings—Croker,
-Fitzgerald and myself left Town on Saturday Morning last
-[8th] arrived at Dover that night. I was a little disappointed
-to hear that the Tricolor Flag was flying at Calais—However
-we were determined, perhaps rather rashly—to make
-an attempt to land, and sailed the next morning in an
-armed schooner—putting the guns below and hoisting a
-flag of truce when we got into Calais roads. The Governor
-however was inexorable—and positively refused us permission
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>to land. We heard that the white flag was flying
-at Dunkirk and at Boulogne and the wind favoured for the
-latter—we made for it. As we passed Vimereux and
-Ambleteuse we saw the white flag flying there and indeed
-at every intervening village between Calais and Boulogne.
-It was late in the evening when we arrived off Boulogne—we
-could discern that there was a flag hoisted, and on standing
-in close into the harbour we found it was the Tricolor.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Fitzgerald and I were so sick and heartily tired of our
-voyage, that we resisted most strenuously Croker’s proposition
-to make for Dieppe—we wrote a very civil note to
-the Commandant—hoisted our flag of Truce and despatched
-a messenger. He was detained about three hours—he said
-that our arrival in the roads had caused great alarm in the
-garrison—that he had been placed under arrest on his
-landing—had been taken to the Commandant who was holding
-a sort of Council of war—that the flag of truce was mistaken
-for the white flag—particularly as the Schooner was
-armed—and unfortunately for us three or four English
-Brigs were in the offing.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>However he brought with him a civil answer from the
-Commandant informing us that “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">une mesure de sureté
-militaire l’occupoit à le moment</span>,” but when he was at
-leisure he would send a boat for us.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>We were half afraid to trust ourselves to him, particularly
-as he told our envoy that he could not recognize a flag of
-truce in an armed vessel, but the apprehension of a sail to
-Dieppe with a contrary wind overcame the apprehension of
-a day or two’s confinement at Boulogne. The boat arrived—and
-we landed at Boulogne about 3 o’clock on Monday
-morning. The Commandant was civil to us but did not
-conceal from us that he was a furious Bonapartist. He said
-he had no soldiers—if he had 30 that white flag in the next
-village should not be hoisted—or there should be a massacre
-if it was. We proceeded on our journey about 7 o’clock
-on the morning of Monday—nothing could exceed the
-apparent devotion of all the inhabitants of the country
-through which we passed to the cause of Louis—the white
-flag was hanging from every window. Vive le Roi was in
-every mouth. We met with no interruption until we arrived
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>at Montreuil—where there was a strong garrison—the
-Commandant like the officers—determined Bonapartists.
-We had nothing but Castlereagh’s passport except La
-Chatre’s which was worse than nothing, but the Commandant
-allowed us after some parley to proceed. The
-presence of the military was hardly sufficient to keep down
-the popular feeling in favour of the King—among the
-inhabitants it was universal here as every where else, there
-was not a single exception. At Abbeville we were again
-stopped. Here there was a very strong garrison—2000
-men. Party spirit was running very high. The inhabitants
-were armed—the military seemed disposed to resist the
-order which they expected to receive on the day of our
-arrival, to lay down their arms and leave the town.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Every precaution was taken as if the town was besieged.
-There were soldiers at every drawbridge. The Commandant
-however allowed us to proceed—and we arrived safely at
-Paris on the evening of Tuesday.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><em>Sunday, 16th.</em></p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Paris is surrounded by the troops of the allies and nothing
-can be more interesting than the present situation of it. The
-streets are crowded with officers and soldiers of all nations.
-Cossacks—Russians—Prussians, Austrians, Hungarians,
-etc. The English are great favourites. The Prussians held
-in the greatest detestation. If they had entered Paris alone—or
-if the Crowned Heads had delayed their entry—they, the
-Prussians would probably have pillaged Paris. They have
-taken some pictures from the Louvre—a very few, however,
-and none to which they had not some claim. They have
-demanded the payment of one hundred millions of francs
-from the city and at this moment—there are Prussian
-guards in the houses of Perigaux and some of the other
-principal bankers who are held as a sort of hostage—for the
-payment of the contribution.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>We drove to-day to the Depot d’Artillerie, and were told
-by the sentry—one of the national guards, that we were
-welcome to see the salon—but that the Prussians had removed
-everything which it contained—the sword of Joan
-of Arc—the knife of Ravaillac—Turenne’s sword. I am
-sorry for this—not on account of the mortification which it
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>will inflict on French vanity—but because I fear the return
-of the King will be less popular—than it would have been
-if he could have preserved entire at least those national
-monuments and relics which are exclusively French.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>We paid a visit to Denon the other day. He had some
-Prussians quartered upon him, and was very loud in his
-exclamations against <em>ce</em> [sic] <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bête féroce</span></i> as he called Blucher.
-He expressed his sentiments very freely on political subjects—said
-the King was not destined to govern France in times
-like these—and predicted a short duration to his dynasty.
-He spoke in terms of great and apparently sincere affection
-towards Bonaparte—he was the last person who saw him
-before he quitted Paris. Denon observed that he had
-committed a great error after the battle of Waterloo in
-quitting the army—that he had by that step lost its confidence—that
-he ought either to have remained with it—or
-to have returned to it immediately. If he had summoned
-the two chambers, informed them without reserve of his
-disasters and concluded by stating that his travelling
-carriage was at the door and that he was going to resume
-the command of the army, that even still he need not have
-despaired of ultimate success.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>At the Tuileries after mass there was a great collection
-of Marshals—Peers of France—and other rogues of the
-higher order. We saw Marmont—Macdonald—Masséna—St.
-Cyr—Dupont, etc., and almost all the General officers
-of the French army who are in Paris—and did not take a
-decided part against the King. The garden of the Tuileries
-was absolutely full of people, and nothing can exceed or
-describe the enthusiasm of the women and children in
-favour of the King. If shouts—and applause and Vive le
-Roi—and white handkerchiefs could contribute to his
-strength—his throne would be established on solid foundations,
-but I do not see that men—fighting men—partake so
-much of the general joy—I confess I think the King has
-been ill advised in making Fouché his chief confidant and
-minister. It seems to me that it must preclude him from
-punishing treason in others—if he rewards so notorious a
-traitor as Fouché so highly. Fouché betrayed the King—then
-he betrayed Bonaparte—then he betrayed the Provisional
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>Government of which he was the head and now he is
-minister. In fact he betrayed the Provisional Government
-deliberately—and on condition that he should be the King’s
-adviser. The virulence of French traitors—owing to the
-impunity of Treason—is beyond conception. Grouchy has
-written a letter to the Emperor of Russia requesting him
-to intercede in his favour with the King—and to procure for
-him permission to retain his rank as Marshal in the French
-army or, if that cannot be granted, that the Emperor will
-allow him to enter the Russian army retaining his present
-rank. The Emperor’s answer was not amiss. He had
-nothing to say to his first Proposition—and with respect to
-his second—it was an indispensable qualification in a Russian
-officer that he should be a man of honour.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Pray remember me very kindly to the Duchess of Dorset
-and believe me ever</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Dear Lord Whitworth,</div>
- <div class='line in12'>Yours most truly</div>
- <div class='line in24'><span class='fss'>ROBERT PEEL</span>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>His Excellency</em></div>
- <div class='line in2'><em>The Lord Lieutenant.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Paris</span>, <em>Monday, July 17th</em>.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'>Arbuthnot saw Mr. Lane about an hour since I had this
-account from him—½ past 3.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Mr. Lane of No. 5 Essex Court in the Temple states
-himself to have arrived to-day from France; and he gives
-the following account:</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>That on the 20th he left Paris, and notwithstanding there
-were firing of guns and other marks of rejoicing, there was a
-general feeling in the town that all was not going well; that
-at Boulogne Mr. Lane saw the <cite>Moniteur</cite> of the 22nd which
-gives a long account of what is called the battle of Marennart,
-stating that the British were 90,000 men and the French not
-so many, that until four in the Evening the French had completely
-won the battle, but that about that hour the English
-Cavalry had attacked the Cuirassiers and routed them, that
-the young guards coming to their assistance got entangled
-in their confusion, and the old guard was likewise
-“<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">entrainée</span></i>.” At this moment some <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Malveillant</span></i> in the army
-cried “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Sauve qui peut</span>” and a general flight commenced;
-the whole left wing of the army <em>dispersed</em>: He lost all his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>cannon caissons etc. Buonaparte had ordered the wreck of
-his army to be collected near Phillipville, and he had issued
-directions calling on the Northern provinces to rise in mass.
-This, says the <cite>Moniteur</cite>, ended a battle so glorious yet so
-fatal to the French arms. Buonaparte has arrived in Paris
-on the morning of the 21st. The Council of Ministers and
-the two chambers had been placed in a state of permanency
-and it was declared high treason to vote an adjournment.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='fixed'>Extract</span> of a letter from the <span class='fss'>DUKE</span> <em>of</em> <span class='fss'>WELLINGTON</span></div>
- <div class='line in12'>to <span class='fss'>SIR CHARLES FLINT</span>.</div>
- <div class='line in28'>dated <span class='sc'>Brussels</span>.</div>
- <div class='line in36'><em>19 June 1815.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'>What do you think of the total defeat of Bonaparte by the
-British Army?</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Never was there in the annals of the World so desperate
-or so hard fought an action, or such a defeat. It was really
-the battle of the Giants.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>My heart is broken by the terrible loss I have sustained
-of my old friends and companions and my poor Soldiers;
-and I shall not be satisfied with this Battle however glorious,
-if it does not of itself put an end to Bonaparte.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>[I have been asked for so many Copies of this (all of which
-I have refused) that I am glad to return it.]</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><em>19 June 1815.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'>On the 16th to the very great astonishment of everyone
-the French attacked us or rather the Prussians, Lord
-Wellington came up with a very few Troops including the
-7 Divisions and succeeded in stopping them, the next day
-was passed in partial Cavalry actions and yesterday was
-fought the severest battle that I believe ever has been known,
-the disproportion was immense so much so that altho’ we
-constantly repulsed them yet had not the Prussians come up
-at 7 (altho’ in fact they might have been up long before) we
-perhaps might ultimately have been annihilated. Trotter and
-I was on the field at the beginning and I count it as the best
-day of my life—I was there also to-day—the French have
-abandoned everything—In point of Artillery it is a second
-Vittoria.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>Our loss is so great that our Army will not I fear be in a
-state to act efficiently—but as we have done the material
-thing, the Allies may do the rest—the French Cavalry which
-was very fine suffered beyond expression—For a mile the
-road is actually strewed with Cuirasses—when I say this,
-I do not exaggerate. The Prussians are pursuing as fast as
-they can and with a large body of Troops. There will not
-be a stop by possibility till we get over the Frontier, after that
-time I dare not prophesy, but I do not think they will like
-to attack us again.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The Action was fought in front of <em>Waterloo</em> where two
-Roads separate—the one going to Nivelle, the other to
-Genappe—the position which was a very beautiful one was
-in front of the junction of the two roads. [<em>unsigned.</em>]</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c038'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Nivelle.</span> <em>19 June 1815.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c037'>The great action of yesterday was the severest contest
-either Frenchmen or Englishmen ever witnessed—it was
-the most obstinate struggle of two brave and rival Nations
-each firm in its cause—The gallantry of the French could only
-be exceeded by the resolution and intrepidity of John Bull.
-It raged from 11 till 9 and was once nearly lost. The Duke
-seconded by his Troops repaired every momentary disaster.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>Buonaparte placed himself at the head of his guards and
-led them on. The 1st Guards defeated them and put them to
-the rout and then the dismay became general—The Guards
-and generally the Infantry were the mainstay of the Action.
-Our Brigade had the defence of a Post which if lost, lost all.
-Our Light Company under Colonel Macdonnell were there,
-the Coldstreams then went down and we held it to the last,
-tho’ the Houses were in Flames. The loss has been immense—The
-French are totally defeated.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>There never was a more severe Battle than that of the
-18th. I enclose a little Sketch of it. The dotted Line from
-Braine la Leud to above La Haye is the brow of the Hills
-occupied by the Duke of Wellington. The Troops had
-bivouaced just in the rear. The other dotted line near La
-Belle Alliance marks the brow of the Hills from where the
-French attack was made. There are two small Hedges in
-the Rear of this one. The Attack on Hougomont was very
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>severe from a little before 12 to half past one. Bonaparte
-then moved a strong Force (continuing however his first
-Attack for several hours) to attack the left of the Centre
-where Picton and Ponsonby were killed. He drove our
-people from the Hedges a short distance but they soon
-returned and drove him considerably beyond those Hedges.
-In the Evening he collected a very great force near La Haye
-Sainte and attacked the Right of the Centre. This was done
-repeatedly by Infantry and Cavalry but though they frequently
-got through the Line they could never drive them
-from their position. The British Artillery was a little in
-front. The Duke several times left the Guns taking away the
-Horses and Ammunition, but his Fire was too heavy for the
-Enemy to bring up Horses to take them off and he as often
-regained them. At about 7 o’clock the French were heartily
-sick of it and retired rapidly. The Duke immediately
-changed his Defensive operations to that of Attack and at the
-same time Bulow brought up about 30,000 fresh Troops on
-the right flank of the Enemy near the Village of La Haye.
-Blucher was also near at hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The Rout at this time was complete. The Pursuit was
-rapid and I really believe that the following morning the
-French Army had not 50 Guns out of 300 and no Baggage
-of any sort.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The latter part of this Account I take from others and
-from seeing the Field of Battle two days afterwards. The
-first and second attacks I was present at.</p>
-
-<p class='c037'>The Returns are arrived of Killed and Wounded. The
-British and Hanoverians lost on the 16th, 17th and 18th
-845 Officers and 13,000 Men. The French lost much more.
-The Method in which the Duke received the united Charges
-of Cavalry and attacks of Infantry is not common. He formed
-two Regiments in Squares and united them by a Regt. in
-Line four deep making a Sort of Curtain between two
-Bastions. [<em>unsigned.</em>]</p>
-
-<h3 class='c016'>§ iii</h3>
-
-<p class='c044'>After Lord Whitworth’s term of office had come to
-an end he and the duchess returned to live at Knole,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>and to make such improvements there as were agreeable
-to the taste of the early nineteenth century. Such
-were the Gothic windows of the Orangery, which
-replaced the Tudor ones and were inscribed with the
-date 1823, and further changes were projected, such
-as a design which was to sweep away the symmetry of
-the lawns on the garden front and bring a curving path
-up to the house. This scheme, however, was never
-carried out. The bowling-green still rises, square and
-formal, backed by the two great tulip trees and the
-more distant woods of the park. The long perspective
-of the herbaceous borders was left undisturbed. The
-apple-trees in the little square orchards, that bear their
-blossom and their fruit from year to year with such countrified
-simplicity in the heart of all that magnificence,
-were not uprooted. Consequently the garden, save for
-one small section where the paths curve in meaningless
-scollops among the rhododendrons, remains to-day
-very much as Anne Clifford knew it. It has, of course,
-matured. The white rose which was planted under
-James I’s room has climbed until it now reaches beyond
-his windows on the first floor; the great lime has drooped
-its branches until they have layered themselves in the
-ground of their own accord and grown up again with
-fresh roots into three complete circles all sprung from
-the parent tree, a cloister of limes, which in summer
-murmurs like one enormous bee-hive; the magnolia outside
-the Poets’ Parlour has grown nearly to the roof, and
-bears its mass of flame-shaped blossoms like a giant candelabrum;
-the beech hedge is twenty feet high; four
-centuries have winnowed the faultless turf. In spring the
-wisteria drips its fountains over the top of the wall into
-the park. The soil is rich and deep and old. The garden
-has been a garden for four hundred years.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'><span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>And here, save for a few very brief notes to bring
-the history of the house down to the present day, these
-sketches must cease. The duchess Arabella Diana
-dying in 1825, her estate devolved upon her two
-daughters, Mary and Elizabeth. Elizabeth, my great-grandmother,
-who married John West, Lord de la
-Warr, and who died in 1870, left Buckhurst to her
-elder sons and Knole to her younger sons, one of
-whom was my grandfather. He was, as I remember
-him, a queer and silent old man. He knew nothing
-whatever about the works of art in the house; he spent
-hours gazing at the flowers, followed about the garden
-by two grave demoiselle cranes; he turned his back on
-all visitors, but sized them up after they had gone in
-one shrewd and sarcastic phrase; he bore a really
-remarkable resemblance to the portraits of the old
-Lord Treasurer, and he seemed to me, with his
-taciturnity and the never-mentioned background of
-his own not unromantic past, to stand conformably at
-the end of the long line of his ancestors. He and I, who
-so often shared the house alone between us, were companions
-in a shy and undemonstrative way. Although
-he had nothing to say to his unfortunate guests, he
-could understand a child. He told me that there were
-underground caves in the Wilderness, and I believed
-him to the extent of digging pits among the laurels in
-the hope of chancing upon the entrance; he made over
-a tall tree to me for my own, and I mounted a wooden
-cannon among its branches to keep away intruders.
-When I was away, which was seldom, he would write
-me harlequin letters in different coloured chalks. When
-I was at home he would put after dinner a plate of fruit
-for my breakfast into a drawer of his writing-table
-labelled with my name, and this he never once failed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>to do, even though there might have been thirty people
-to dinner in the Great Hall, who watched, no doubt
-with great surprise, the old man who had been so rude
-to his neighbours at dinner going unconcernedly
-round with a plate, picking out the reddest cherries,
-the bluest grapes, and the ripest peach.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>When we were at Knole alone together I used to go
-down to his sitting-room in the evening to play
-draughts with him—and never knew whether I played
-to please him, or he played to please me—and sometimes,
-very rarely, he told me stories of when he was a
-small boy, and played with the rocking-horse, and of
-the journeys by coach with his father and mother from
-Buckhurst to Knole or from Knole to London; of
-their taking the silver with them under the seat; of
-their having outriders with pistols; and of his father
-and mother never addressing each other, in their
-children’s presence, as anything but “my Lord” and
-“my Lady.” I clasped my knees and stared at him
-when he told me these stories of an age which already
-seemed so remote, and his pale blue eyes gazed away
-into the past, and suddenly his shyness would return
-to him and the clock in the corner would begin to
-wheeze in preparation to striking the hour, and he
-would say that it was time for me to go to bed. But
-although our understanding of one another was, I am
-sure, so excellent, our rare conversations remained
-always on similar fantastic subjects, nor ever approached
-the intimate or the personal.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Then he fell ill and died when he was over eighty,
-and became a name like the others, and his portrait
-took its place among the rest, with a label recording
-the dates of his birth and death.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>APPENDIX<br /> A Note on Thieves’ Cant</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c055'>The vocabulary given on page <a href='#Page_135'>135</a> contributes no word
-which may not be found in any cant dictionary, and
-therefore may appear undeserving of inclusion. But I
-put it in because I think few people, apart from students of
-philology, realize the existence of that large section of our
-language in use among the vagabond classes. Cant and
-slang, to most people’s minds, are synonymous, but this is
-an error of belief: slang creeps from many sources into the
-river of language, and so mingles with it that in course of
-time many use it without knowing that they do so; cant, on
-the other hand, remains definite and obscure of origin. Slang
-is loose, expressive, and metaphorical; cant is tight and
-correct: it has even a literature of its own, broad and racy,
-incomprehensible to the ordinary reader without the help of
-a glossary. Its words, for the most part, bear no resemblance
-to English words; unlike slang, they are not words adapted,
-for the sake of vividness, to a use for which they were not
-originally intended, but are applied strictly to their peculiar
-meaning.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>Although the origin of cant as a separate jargon or
-language is obscure—it does not appear in England till the
-second half of the sixteenth century—the origin of certain
-of its words may be traced. Of those included in the
-vocabulary on page <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>, for example, <em>ken</em>, for house, comes
-from <em>khan</em> (gipsy and Oriental); <em>fogus</em>, for tobacco, comes
-from <em>fogo</em>, an old word for stench; <em>maund</em>, or <em>maunder</em>, to
-beg, does not derive, as might be thought, from <em>maung</em>, to
-beg, a gipsy word taken from the Hindu, but from the
-Anglo-Saxon <i><span lang="ang" xml:lang="ang">mand</span></i>, a basket; <i><span lang="ang" xml:lang="ang">bouse</span></i>, to drink (which, of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>course, has given us booze, with the same meaning, and
-which in the fourteenth century was perfectly good English),
-comes from the Dutch <i><span lang="nl" xml:lang="nl">buyzen</span></i>, to tipple. <em>Abram</em>, naked, is
-found as <i><span lang="hu" xml:lang="hu">abrannoi</span></i>, with the same meaning, in Hungarian
-gipsy; <em>cassan</em>, cheese, is <em>cas</em> in English gipsy; <em>dimber</em> survives
-for “pretty” in Worcestershire. <em>Cheat</em> appears
-frequently in cant as a common affix.</p>
-
-<p class='c042'>As for <em>autem mort</em>, I find it in an early authority thus defined:
-“These <em>autem morts</em> be married women, as there be
-but a few. For <em>autem</em> in their language is a church, so she is
-a wife married at the church, and they be as chaste as a cow
-I have, that goeth to bull every moon, with what bull she
-careth not.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>
- <h2 class='c005'>INDEX</h2>
-</div>
-
-<ul class='index c056'>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ANNE</span>, Queen, as Princess Anne, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>
- <ul>
- <li>her death, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ARMISTEAD</span>, Mrs. Elizabeth, mistress of 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>BEAUMONT</span>, Francis, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BACELLI</span>, Giannetta, mistress of 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>–192</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BERKELEY</span>, Lady Betty. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>GERMAINE</span>, Lady Betty</li>
- <li class='c026'>Berkeley Castle, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BLACKMORE</span>, his poem <em>Prince Arthur</em> quoted, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BOURCHIER</span>, Archbishop of Canterbury, buys Knole from Lord Say &amp; Sele, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>
- <ul>
- <li>Builds on to Knole, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
- <li>Encloses the park, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a></li>
- <li>Allows glass-making in the park, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BOWRA</span>, a cricketer, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BRUCE</span>, Lord, his duel with Edward Sackville, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>–90</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BUCKHURST</span>, Lord. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>SACKVILLE</span>, Thomas
- <ul>
- <li>house at Withyham, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>; and mentioned <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">passim</span></i></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BUCKINGHAM</span>, Duke of, his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BUTLER</span>, Samuel, his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BURKE</span>, Edmund, letter from, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>–198
- <ul>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>BYRON</span>, Lord, quoted, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>
- <ul>
- <li>friendship with 4th Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>–204</li>
- <li>his letters to Thomas Moore, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>–205</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>CARTWRIGHT</span>, William, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CHAMPCENETZ</span>, Comte de, a French fugitive, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CHARLES I</span>, verses on the death of, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>–107</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CHARLES II</span>, anecdote of his childhood, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>
- <ul>
- <li>at Edgehill, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a></li>
- <li>Chapter VI <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">passim</span></i></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CLIFFORD</span>, Lady Anne, 3rd Countess of Dorset, description of herself, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>–50
- <ul>
- <li>marries Richard Sackville, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a></li>
- <li>her children, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
- <li>her diary quoted, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>–72</li>
- <li>her later years, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>–78</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span><span class='fss'>COLIGNY</span>, Odet de, Cardinal of Chatillon, entertained by Thomas Sackville at Shene, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a> <em>seq.</em></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>COLYEAR</span>, Elizabeth, marries 1st Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CONGREVE</span>, William, his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>COPE</span>, Arabella Diana, marries 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>
- <ul>
- <li>her character, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>–194</li>
- <li>marries Lord Whitworth, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
- <li>living at Knole, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>–218</li>
- <li>death of, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>COPE</span>, Eliza, letter from, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a></li>
- <li class='c026'>Copt Hall, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>COURTHOPE</span>, History of English Literature quoted, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>COWLEY</span>, Abraham, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CRANFIELD</span>, Lady Frances, marries 5th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CRANMER</span>, Archbishop of Canterbury, gives Knole to Henry VIII, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
- <li class='c026'>Cricket, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>–183</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CUMBERLAND</span>, Francis, Earl of, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>
- <ul>
- <li>George, Earl of, Queen Elizabeth’s champion, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his adventures, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>
- <li>his death, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a></li>
- <li>his will, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Margaret, Countess of, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>–59 <em>passim</em>
- <ul>
- <li>her death, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>CURZON</span>, Mary, 4th Countess of Dorset, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>
- <ul>
- <li>governess to the children of Charles I, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>–98</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>DESMOND</span>, Catherine Fitzgerald, Countess of, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>DEVONSHIRE</span>, Duchess of, her opinion of 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his letters to her, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
- <li>her letter about a black page, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>DERBY</span>, Countess of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>HAMILTON</span>, Lady Betty</li>
- <li class='c026'>Diamond necklace, affair of the, 3rd Duke of Dorset’s dispatches on, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>–185
- <ul>
- <li>half the diamonds bought by him, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>DIGBY</span>, Sir Kenelm, marries Venetia Stanley, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>
- <ul>
- <li>
- <ul>
- <li>friendship with 4th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>–106</li>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Venetia Stanley, Lady, mistress of 3rd Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span><span class='fss'>DORSET</span>, Earls and Dukes of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>SACKVILLE</span>
- <ul>
- <li>1st Duchess of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>COLYEAR</span>, Elizabeth</li>
- <li>2nd Duchess of, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a></li>
- <li>3rd Duchess of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>COPE</span>, Arabella Diana</li>
- <li>House, London, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a></li>
- <li>3rd Countess of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>CLIFFORD</span>, Lady Anne</li>
- <li>4th Countess of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>CURZON</span>, Mary</li>
- <li>5th Countess of. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>CRANFIELD</span>, Lady Frances</li>
- <li>6th Countess of, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'>Drayton House, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>
- <ul>
- <li>bequeathed to Lord George Sackville by Lady Betty Germaine, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>DRAYTON</span>, Michael, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>DRYDEN</span>, John, his debt to 6th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>
- <ul>
- <li>letter from, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>
- <li>at Knole, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>
- <li>his enmity with Shadwell, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li>satirized by Blackmore, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
- <li>his works dedicated to Dorset, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>DURFEY</span>, Tom, a pensioner at Knole, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>
- <ul>
- <li>verses quoted, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
- <li>his portraits, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>EVELYN’S</span> Diary, quoted, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ELIZABETH</span>, Queen, gives Knole to Thomas Sackville, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>–38
- <ul>
- <li>her death, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>FARREN</span>, Elizabeth, marries the Earl of Derby, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>FLATTMANN</span>, Thomas, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>FLETCHER</span>, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>FOOTE</span>, Samuel, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>GAINSBOROUGH</span>, Thomas, draws Mme. Baccelli, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his receipt for painting, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>, ccviii.</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GEORGE I</span>, accession of, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>–161</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GEORGE II</span>, accession of, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>–162</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GERMAINE</span>, Lady Betty, her rooms at Knole, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>–13
- <ul>
- <li>as a guest at Knole, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>–172</li>
- <li>Sir John, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>–171</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span><span class='fss'>GERBETZOW</span>, Countess, her affair with Lord Whitworth, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GOLDSMITH</span>, Oliver, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GORBODUC</span>, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>–42, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GOSSE</span>, Edmund, quoted, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>GWYNN</span>, Nell, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>–127</li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>HAMILTON</span>, Lady Betty (Countess of Derby), in love with 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>
- <ul>
- <li>married off to Lord Derby, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>–180, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>HENRY VIII</span> obtains Knole from Cranmer, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>
- <ul>
- <li>makes a garden there, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>HEYWOOD</span>, Jasper, quoted, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>HOBBS</span>, Thomas, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>HOPPNER</span>, John, his portrait of the 3rd Duchess of Dorset, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>
- <ul>
- <li>stays at Knole to paint the three children, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a></li>
- <li>his portrait of the children, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
- <li>asked for his own portrait by the 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>HUMPHREY</span>, Ozias, quarrels with 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>
- <ul>
- <li>receipts for pictures, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>JAMES I</span>, interviews with Lady Anne Clifford, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>–66</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>JAMES II</span> at Edgehill, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>JONSON</span>, Ben, his friendship with 3rd Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>
- <ul>
- <li>poem on his death by 5th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>JOHNSON</span>, Dr., quoted, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>KNELLER</span>, Sir Godfrey, portraits by him at Knole, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>KNOLE</span> described, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>–19
- <ul>
- <li>early history of the house, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
- <li>becomes the palace of the Archbishop of Canterbury, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
- <li>repairs and expenses, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>–8</li>
- <li>acquired by Henry VIII, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
- <li>acquired by Thomas Sackville, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
- <li>lead-work at, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
- <li>list of servants at, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>–81</li>
- <li>raided by Cromwell’s soldiers, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>–83, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>–104</li>
- <li>expenses at, in time of Charles I, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
- <li>banquet and menus, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>–94</li>
- <li>household stuff at, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>–96</li>
- <li>arms at, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>–100</li>
- <li>acquisitions from Copt Hall, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
- <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>the Cellars at, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a></li>
- <li>Horace Walpole’s opinion on, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a></li>
- <li>the Green Court, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
- <li>the Stone Court, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, iii</li>
- <li>the Water Court, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
- <li>Great Hall, built, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>altered, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Great Staircase, built, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
- <li>the Ball-room, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>frieze in, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Bourchier’s Tower, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
- <li>Bourchier’s Oriel, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
- <li>Queen’s Court and Slaughter-house, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
- <li>the Brown Gallery, built, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>described, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>the Cartoon Gallery, described, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>–11</li>
- <li>Lady Betty Germaine’s Rooms, described, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
- <li>the Leicester Gallery, described, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>–14</li>
- <li>the King’s Bedroom, described, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
- <li>the Venetian Ambassador’s Bedroom, described, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>–16</li>
- <li>the Chapel, described, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>–17</li>
- <li>the Garden, described, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a>, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a></li>
- <li>Garden Accounts, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>–24</li>
- <li>the Park, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>–26;
- <ul>
- <li>additions to, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>LEBRUN</span>, Mme. Vigée, stays at Knole, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>LEICESTER</span>, Robert Dudley, Earl of, his brief ownership of Knole, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>LENNOX</span>, Lady Sarah, her letters quoted, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>LOCKE</span>, John, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>MACAULAY</span>, quoted, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>–145, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>–148</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MANN</span>, Sir Horace, a cricketer, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MARIE ANTOINETTE</span>, her friendship with the 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MILLER</span>, a cricketer, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MINSKULL</span>, a cricketer, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
- <li class='c026'>Mirror for Magistrates, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>quoted, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li>
- <li>Professor Saintsbury on, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>–47</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MONTGOLFIER</span>, his aeronautical projects, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>–187</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MORETON</span>, Archbishop of Canterbury, makes alterations at Knole, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>MOTTE</span>, Mme. de la, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span><span class='fss'>MUSCOVITA</span>, Mme., <a href='#Page_173'>173</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>NORFOLK</span>, Duchess of, marries Sir John Germaine, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>OPIE</span>, John, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
- <li class='c026'>“<span class='sc'>Orange Moll</span>,” <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>OTWAY</span>, Thomas, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>PARSONS</span>, Nancy, taken abroad by 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>
- <ul>
- <li>abandoned by him, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>PEEL</span>, Sir Robert, letters to Lord Whitworth, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>–214</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>PEPYS</span>, Samuel, quoted, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>POPE</span>, Alexander, his epitaph on 6th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'>Pot-pourri, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>Lady Betty Germaine’s receipt for, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>POWERSCOURT</span>, Lord, friend of 4th Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>PRIOR</span>, Matthew, visits 6th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>
- <ul>
- <li>educated at Lord Dorset’s expense, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a></li>
- <li>verses quoted, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a></li>
- <li>mentioned by Macaulay, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>RADCLIFFE</span>, Mrs. Ann, visits Knole, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><cite>Religio Medici</cite>, Sir Kenelm Digby on, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>–106</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>REYNOLDS</span>, Sir Joshua, his portrait of Mlle. Bacelli, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his portrait of the Chinese page, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a></li>
- <li>his portrait of himself, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>–197</li>
- <li>his portrait of the Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ROCHE</span>, Mrs. Ann, marries 6th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ROCHESTER</span>, John Wilmot, Earl of, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his opinion of Charles, Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
- <li>his portrait of Knole, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ROWE</span>, Nicholas, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c026'>Rye House Plot, letter referring to the, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>–135</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>ROHAN</span>, Cardinal de, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>SACKVILLES</span>, the, described, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>–29
- <ul>
- <li>their origin, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>–30</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>SACKVILLE</span>, Herbrand de, comes into England with William the Conqueror, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>
- <ul>
- <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>Sir Richard, suggests <em>The Scholemaster</em> to Ascham, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his London property, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Thomas, 1st Earl of Dorset, makes alterations at Knole, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his early life, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a></li>
- <li>his political career, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>–41</li>
- <li>his literary works, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>–47</li>
- <li>his armour described, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Richard, 3rd Earl of Dorset, marries Lady Anne Clifford, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>
- <ul>
- <li>description of, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
- <li>his character, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>–59</li>
- <li>mentioned in Lady Anne Clifford’s diary, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>–72 <em>passim</em></li>
- <li>his death, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Edward, 4th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his duel with Lord Bruce, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>–90</li>
- <li>his income and expenses, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>–92, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li>
- <li>his possessions in America, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a>–93</li>
- <li>during the Civil War, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>–110</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Hon. Edward, murdered by the Roundheads, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>
- <ul>
- <li>poem on his death, <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">ibid.</span></i></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Richard, 5th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his marriage settlement with Lady Frances Cranfield, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>–112</li>
- <li>his memorandum books, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>–114</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Hon. Thomas, epitaph on, <a href='#Page_114'>114</a></li>
- <li>Charles, 6th Earl of Dorset; his silver at Knole, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>–29
- <ul>
- <li>described, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li>
- <li>his youth, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>–127</li>
- <li>goes abroad, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>
- <li>marries; his love-letter, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
- <li>his finances, <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>–133</li>
- <li>his later years, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>–143</li>
- <li>his melancholia and death, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a></li>
- <li>his character, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>–145</li>
- <li>his literary merit, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>and songs quoted, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>his patronage of poets, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>–151</li>
- <li>compared to 3rd Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>Lionel, 1st Duke of Dorset; his character and relations with his sons, <a href='#Page_152'>152</a>–157
- <ul>
- <li>as a child, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>–158</li>
- <li>his early years, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>
- <li>announces their accession to George I and George II, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>–163</li>
- <li>becomes Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>–167</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Lord George, quoted, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his relations with his father, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li>
- <li>his political career, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>–157</li>
- <li>inherits Drayton from Lady Betty Germaine, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a></li>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Lord John, a cricketer, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his melancholia and death, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Charles, 2nd Duke of Dorset, a wastrel, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>
- <ul>
- <li>reputed mad, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a></li>
- <li>his poems quoted, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>–174</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>John Frederick, 3rd Duke of Dorset, described, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>–177
- <ul>
- <li>his youth and love-affairs, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>–180</li>
- <li>as a patron of cricket, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>–183</li>
- <li>as Ambassador in Paris, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>–188</li>
- <li>at Knole with the Baccelli, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>–192</li>
- <li>his marriage and later years, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>–199</li>
- <li>his melancholia and death, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>–200</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>George John Frederick, 4th Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his childhood, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a></li>
- <li>his friendship with Byron, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>–205</li>
- <li>killed out hunting, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>–208</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Lord Lionel; his unsociability, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>
- <ul>
- <li>at Knole, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a></li>
- <li>his anecdote of Hoppner’s picture, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
- <li>at Knole, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>–220</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Lady Margaret (afterwards Countess of Thanet), mentioned in Lady Anne Clifford’s Diary, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>
- <ul>
- <li>her portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li>Lady Elizabeth (Countess de la Warr), in Hoppner’s portrait, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>
- <ul>
- <li>succeeds to Knole, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
- <li>at Knowsley, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span><span class='fss'>SAINTSBURY</span>, Professor, quoted, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>–47</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>SEDLEY</span>, Sir Charles, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>SHADWELL</span>, Thomas, patronized by 6th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>–150</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>SMITH</span>, Captain Robert, builds sham ruins in Knole Park, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>SPENSER</span>, Edmund, sonnet to Thomas Sackville, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>STANLEY</span>, Venetia. <em>See</em> <span class='fss'>DIGBY</span>, Lady</li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>STUART</span>, Mary, Queen of Scots, her altar at Knole, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>SWIFT</span>, Jonathan, quoted, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>
- <ul>
- <li>letter from, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c003'>Theatres in the reign of Charles II, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>–124</li>
- <li class='c026'>Thieves’ cant in the reign of Charles II, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>, <em>and Appendix</em> 221</li>
- <li class='c026'>Tobacco, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
- <li class='c003'><span class='fss'>WALLER</span>, Edmund, his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WALPOLE</span>, Horace, quoted, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;
- <ul>
- <li>on Knole, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'>Waterloo, Sir Robert Peel’s letters relating to battle of, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>–214;
- <ul>
- <li>other accounts of, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>–217</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WELLINGTON</span>, Duke of, letter from, about Waterloo, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WHITWORTH</span>, Lord, marries Arabella Diana, Duchess of Dorset, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>
- <ul>
- <li>recalled from St. Petersburg, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a></li>
- <li>his entanglement with Countess Gerbetzow, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
- <li>Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a></li>
- <li>letters to him from Peel, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>–214</li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WILLIAM III</span>, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WITHYHAM</span>, Sackville vault at, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>
- <ul>
- <li>Lady Anne Clifford’s visit to, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a></li>
- <li>epitaphs at, <a href='#Page_114'>114</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WOFFINGTON</span>, Margaret, her relations with 1st Duke of Dorset, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>–167
- <ul>
- <li>her portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WRAXALL</span>, Sir Nathaniel, quoted, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a></li>
- <li class='c026'><span class='fss'>WYCHERLEY</span>, William, his opinion of 6th Earl of Dorset, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>
- <ul>
- <li>his portrait at Knole, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
- </ul>
- </li>
-</ul>
-
-<hr class='c057' />
-<div class='footnote' id='f1'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. <span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>State papers of Henry VIII.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f2'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Slea = unravelled.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f3'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. The original of this curious paper is now at Appleby, dated April 1st,
-1616, and runs as follows: “A memoranda that I, Anne, Countess of
-Dorset, sole daughter and heir to George, late Earl of Cumberland, do take
-witness of all these gentlemen present, that I both desire and offer myself
-to go up to London with my men and horses, but they, having received a
-contrary commandment from my Lord, my husband, will by no means consent
-nor permit me to go with them. Now my desire is that all the world
-may know that this stay of mine proceeds only from my husband’s command,
-contrary to my consent or agreement, whereof I have gotten these names
-underwritten to testify the same.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f4'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. Night-gown, of course, has not the modern meaning, as at that date
-people slept naked.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f5'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. <em>Glecko</em>, or <em>Gleck</em>: a three-handed game played with 44 cards (eight left
-in stock). The gleck consisted in three of a kind.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f6'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. Joistment: the feeding of cattle in a common pasture for a stipulated fee.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f7'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. Runts: young ox or cow.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f8'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. The following account is abridged from the <cite>Mercurius Publicus</cite> of the
-day: “Charles Lord Buckhurst; Edward Sackville, his brother; Sir Henry
-Belasyse, eldest son of Lord Belasyse; John Belasyse, brother of Lord Faulconberg;
-and Thomas Wentworth, only son of Sir G. Wentworth, whilst
-in pursuit of thieves near Waltham Cross, mortally wounded an innocent
-tanner named Hoppy, and&nbsp;... were soon after apprehended on charges of
-robbery and murder, but the Grand Jury found a bill for manslaughter
-only.”</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f9'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. This refers to the frequent flooding of Whitehall Palace by an unusually
-high tide.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f10'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. <em>See</em> Appendix.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f11'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. The butler, not the biographer.</p>
-</div>
-<div class='footnote' id='f12'>
-<p class='c042'><a href='#r12'>12</a>. The powdered dried root of Sweet Sedge (<em>Acorus Calamus</em>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c056'>
- <div><span class='small'>Printed in England at the <span class='sc'>Cloister Press</span>, Heaton Mersey, near Manchester</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c004' />
-</div>
-<div class='tnotes'>
-
-<div class='section ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c058'>
- <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
- <ol class='ol_1 c003'>
- <li>P. <a href='#tvii'>vii</a>, changed “1556 KNOLE resold by Warwick to EDWARD VI” to “1552 KNOLE
- resold by Warwick to EDWARD VI”.
-
- </li>
- <li>P. <a href='#tix'>ix</a>, changed “1552 Succeeded his father, EDWARD” to “1662 Succeeded his
- father, EDWARD”.
-
- </li>
- <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
-
- </li>
- <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
-
- </li>
- <li>Footnotes were re-indexed using numbers and collected together at the end of the last
- chapter.
- </li>
- </ol>
-
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KNOLE AND THE SACKVILLES ***</div>
-<div style='text-align:left'>
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