SMALLER CORRIDOR UP-STAIRS.
No. 133.
SHE was the daughter of Lord Keeper Coventry, and the wife of Sir Henry Frederick Thynne.
No. 134.
Light brown hair. Clean shaven. Embroidered vest. Band of pearls over the shoulder. Dark cloak. Right arm akimbo.
THOMAS Cavendish was the son of a gentleman of fortune in Suffolk. He had an early fancy for the sea, which was strengthened by circumstances. At the age of twenty-one he had already dissipated the chief part of the property left him by his father, through gambling and other pleasures.
England was at this time at war with Spain, and it was considered fair play for ‘amateur buccaneers’ on the high seas to attack any vessel, or take possession of any settlement, in any part of the world, belonging to that nation.
In this manner Cavendish thought to retrieve his fortunes, and he accordingly, in 1585, equipped a stout bark at his own expense, and accompanied Sir Richard Grenville on his voyage to Virginia, Florida, the West Indies, etc. etc. The expedition was very successful on the whole, though naturally the English met with some reverses. Cavendish returned with his income much replenished; but he went to the Court of ‘the maiden Queen,’ where he lived in splendour, and indulged in great extravagance, so that the dollars did not remain long in his purse. He determined to go afloat once more, but he had to sell or mortgage the remainder of his estates to enable him to fit out three vessels, and, fired by the example of Sir Francis Drake, he resolved to visit some of the spots where that famous sailor had been so successful. He first steered for Sierra Leone, where he landed, and pillaged and burned the town, ostensibly as reprisals for a wound inflicted on one of his crew by a native. Proceeding to South America, he touched at many points as he coasted along, giving English names to the places which took his fancy. One beautiful bay, glistening with golden sands, he called ‘Elizabeth,’ after his royal mistress, although it did not enjoy a good reputation, being inhabited by cannibals who had feasted largely on the unfortunate Spaniards. He landed frequently whenever there was a prospect of gain, and attacked the Spaniards in their settlements, burning, destroying, and plundering, often with considerable loss on his own side; but he was never daunted, and his success outweighed his reverses. He took many Spanish barks, but his chief prize was the ‘St. Anna’ galleon laden with rich merchandise, specie, jewels, etc. etc. He marked her for his own, lay in wait for her, and in spite of fearful odds as to numbers of the respective crews, he boarded and took possession, with all the invaluable freight. He then proceeded on his voyage round the world, which he performed most successfully, and returned to Plymouth, being the second Englishman who had circumnavigated the globe, and the first who had achieved the voyage in so short a time.
Cavendish was received at Court with great favour; the Queen knighted him, and he found England ringing with his fame, which in no wise displeased him. He wrote to Lord Hunsdon in a style of self-complacency, describing all he had done and seen, especially laying stress on the fact that he had shown no mercy to the Queen’s enemies, and that he had lost no opportunity of pillage. He had indeed done very good service to navigation by the improvements he had made in charts, and the like, the exact log he had kept, and the observations he had taken as he sailed along, besides discoveries made.
He pointed out especially the resources and advantageous position of the fertile island of St. Helena, hitherto little frequented excepting by the Portuguese. We have not space to recount all his wonderful escapes and adventures. Cavendish had, as we have before observed, a great taste for magnificence of all kinds, and when at Court he was remarked for the splendour of his dress. He was also very nice in the decoration of vessels, and was said to have had one of them adorned with a mainsail of costly damask. But in all his wanderings he had not learned prudence. A third time he found his money all gone, and it was no longer in his power to raise a sufficient sum for the fitting out of any more ships. A joint-stock company was formed for the purpose of effecting this, and Cavendish was engaged in their service; but he found himself very soon in a most humiliating position, under the orders of men who were entirely ignorant of navigation, and who constantly interfered and took share in the command, instead of listening to the advice of this experienced Admiral. Quarrels and bickerings ensued, and not long after the small fleet weighed anchor, storms and tempests set in, and disasters of every kind were encountered. The brave spirit gave way at length, being broken down by ill-health, disappointment, and perplexity, the crowning point being the mutinous conduct of the sailors towards one who had hitherto been paramount on his own quarter-deck. Cavendish had not proceeded far on his return to England, which he was never destined to see again, when he died at sea, after a life of storm and adventure such as few had experienced even in those stirring times.
No. 135.
No. 136.
SHE was the only daughter and heir of Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford, by the daughter and heir of William Holles, Duke of Newcastle. Prior immortalised her as his sweet, lovely, noble, charming Peggy. She married William Bentinck, Duke of Portland, by whom she had several children. The eldest daughter became the wife of the first Marquis of Bath.
No. 137.
THE eldest son of Sir William Graham of Claverhouse, county Forfar, N.B., by Jane, daughter of John Carnegie, first Earl of Northesk. The family was a branch of the noble house of Montrose, descended from William Lord Graham of Kincardine, by his second wife, Margaret, daughter of Robert III., King of Scotland.
John Graham studied at the University of St. Andrews, but went to France to finish his education, where he entered the army of the Great Monarch as a volunteer. Having resolved on the career of a soldier, he left France, and obtained a cornetcy in the Horse Guards of William Prince of Orange, by whom he was promoted to the command of a troop in 1674, in consideration of his bravery at the battle of Seneffe, in which engagement, indeed, he saved the Prince’s life.
Some time afterwards, Graham applied for the command of one of the Scotch regiments in the Dutch service, but being refused, the young soldier was so disgusted that he threw up his commission and went to England.
Now, although it did not suit the Prince of Orange to grant Graham’s request, he gave him the warmest recommendation to Charles II., who immediately made him commander of a body of horse just levied in Scotland to oppose the rising of the Covenanters, nominally under the orders of the Duke of Monmouth. Graham found himself vested with full power to act as he thought fit, and history and historical romance alike testify to the severity, and even cruelty, with which he carried out his measures.
He entertained a personal hatred to the Whigs, and his hot temper made him vindictive in public as well as private matters. He had no toleration for the opinions, or mercy for the disaffection, of these enthusiasts, numbers of whom he forced, at the point of the sword, to take an oath hateful to their consciences. In 1679, one of their conventicles having been attacked, the peasants rose and defeated a detachment of his troops with considerable loss. Exasperated beyond words at what he considered a disgrace, the General gave vent to his fury, massacring the unfortunate ‘hillside folk,’ who were unarmed; putting to death without a moment’s respite those who refused the test, and making for himself a road of carnage and desolation wherever his march was directed. Who can wonder that he gained for himself the name of ‘Bloody Claver’se’?
The Crown, however, rewarded his zeal by making him Sheriff of Wigtownshire in 1682, captain of a troop in the Royal Regiment of Horse, Privy Councillor in Scotland, together with a grant of the castle of Dudhope, and the office of Constable of Dundee.
Notwithstanding his cruelty to their countrymen, he was much favoured by the Scotch Episcopalians, until his marriage with the granddaughter of the Earl of Dundonald, ‘a fanatic,’ brought him into temporary disrepute.
On the accession of James II., the King was persuaded (on the plea of this marriage) to remove Claverhouse from his seat in the Council; but he was soon reinstated, and successively promoted to the rank of Brigadier and Major-General, and in 1688 created Viscount Dundee and Baron Graham of Claverhouse in Scotland. At the time of his elevation to the Peerage, Dundee was in attendance on the King in London, vainly endeavouring to prevail on the unhappy monarch to make a stand against the Prince of Orange, offering to collect 10,000 of the disbanded troops, and at their head to stem the torrent of invasion. But James was deaf to these manly and vigorous counsels, though one of the last acts of his Government was to intrust Dundee with the management of all military affairs in Scotland.
Thither Claverhouse (for by that name he is best known) repaired, and on arriving in Edinburgh took his seat at a Convention of the Estates then sitting. Here he endeavoured to carry matters with too high a hand, and finding that some of his arbitrary requests were refused, he left Edinburgh in dudgeon, at the head of a large body of horse. Prompt and energetic in all his measures, the General repaired to Stirling, called a parliament of the friends of the expatriated King, and considerably harassed and hampered the movements of his adversaries.
Receiving intelligence of the approach of a force sent by the Convention to seize his person, he retired to Lochaber, where a gathering of the clans soon placed him at the head of a large number of Highlanders, all enthusiastically devoted to his person and the Royal cause.
Dundee now made a fresh appeal to James, then in Ireland, entreating him to cross over to Scotland, where his presence would ‘fix the wavering and intimidate the fearful, and where hosts of shepherds would start up warriors at the first wave of his banner on the mountains.’
But once more his advice was thrown away. James sent him a small store of arms and ammunition, together with some feeble promises and faint words of praise.
Claverhouse had not only the qualities of a great commander, but in his cooler moments possessed the requisites for a ruler and administrator of justice.
On one occasion, at Inverness, he found the inhabitants of that town in arms against a body of neighbouring chiefs, to decide a quarrel respecting some question of debt. He sat in judgment on the matter, severely reproved both parties for drawing their daggers on each other, instead of uniting to support the cause of their royal master; and then, to the surprise and delight of the litigants, he drew the amount of the debt from his own purse and paid it on the spot. In an ecstasy of enthusiasm and gratitude the two adverse parties joined in hearty fellowship, and enlisted with one accord under his banner. Indeed, his influence throughout the country was wonderful, and he entered on a system of communication with all those whom he considered likely to advance the cause for which he worked so zealously. It is unnecessary to recount all his efforts to win adherents, but perhaps the most remarkable of his successes in this particular occurred in the case of a band of Highland vassals raised by Lord Murray on the estate of his father, the Earl of Athole.
While Murray was in the act of reviewing them they quitted their ranks, hastened to a neighbouring brook, filled their bonnets with water, drank the health of King James, and, with pipes playing, marched off to join Dundee. William III. now thought it time to take some decided measures, and he despatched General Mackay (who had distinguished himself in Holland) with a considerable force into Scotland, while James sent orders to his General to avoid a battle until the arrival of fresh reinforcements from Ireland. For these supplies the eager-spirited soldier had to wait two months in the mountains, keeping, however, (according to modern parlance,) his hand in during that time by spirited attacks and retreats. The delay must have been displeasing to the man of whom it was said that the first messenger of his approach was the sight of his army, and the first intelligence of his retreat that he was beyond the enemy’s reach.
No sooner did the raw and ill-provided recruits who formed the promised reinforcement arrive than Claverhouse prepared for active measures. Hearing that Mackay was marching on Blair Castle, in Athole, a fortress of much importance, he resolved to intercept him. Accordingly, when William’s General arrived on the plain at the mouth of the Pass of Killiecrankie, he found Dundee on the surrounding hills awaiting his arrival. He did all he could to incite the enemy to immediate action, but it suited the Scotch commander to delay for some hours.
As the sun of July the 27th, 1689, sank slowly to rest, the word was given, and the Highlanders, whose eager spirits had been controlled for so many hours, dashed down the hillside with even more than their usual impetuosity. It was but the work of a moment: William’s army was routed as if by magic. Dundee, who had fought on foot in the onset, now leaped on his horse and galloped to the mouth of the Pass to intercept the enemy’s retreat. In his hot haste he outstripped his men, and looking round, found himself almost alone, and he waved his sword to motion his men forward, when a musket-ball struck him in the arm-pit. He fell fainting from his horse, and was carried off the field, but soon rallied, and inquired how things went.
On receiving the answer, ‘All is well,’ the gallant soldier replied, ‘Then I am well also,’ and instantly expired.
When King William heard of his death, he said, ‘Then the war in Scotland is over.’
Surely never was countenance more indicative of the inner man than the comely face with which we are so familiar in the portraits of John Graham of Claverhouse. The faultless features, the fair complexion, the profusion of silken hair, and the slight moustache, convey an idea of refinement and delicacy, we should almost say gentleness. But a glance at the dark hazel eyes, full of latent fire, and (even plainer reading to a physiognomist) the determined lines of the exquisitely curved lip, bring us face to face with the obdurate, and (the true word must be spoken) cruel man of blood. He was verily ‘an eagle at assault and a maiden in the bower,’ and there have been few characters that inspired such extremes of love and hatred.
He was idolised by his soldiers, whose hardships he gladly shared in times of privation, often sending, to the sick and wounded among his troops, the dainties which had been provided for himself. Yet so strict was he as a disciplinarian, that for an officer at least, there seemed no slighter punishment for any military fault than death; and indeed he said all other punishment, in his opinion, disgraced a gentleman.
A striking anecdote is told, characteristic of the man himself, and of his system, and worthy of the days of Sparta: A young gentleman was observed by the General to fly in his first action. He had compassion on the boy, and pretended that he himself had sent him to the rear, but alas! on the next occasion the young soldier was again found wanting in courage, and Claverhouse, calling him to the front of the army, shot him with his own pistol, being loath, he said, ‘to let a youth of gentle blood fall by the hand of a common executioner.’
Walter Scott tells us another anecdote, of a less tragic nature, although he does not vouch for its authenticity. The story goes that the gallant Claverhouse had heard of the fame of a certain Lady Elphinstone, aged upwards of a century, and was very desirous to see her. Now the centenarian was a staunch Whig, and required some persuasion to induce her to receive the enemy of her party, but she, perhaps, had some feminine grain of curiosity in her composition, and was tempted by the notion of seeing the far-famed captivating monster.
In the course of conversation the soldier remarked that the lady, having lived so long, must have witnessed many wonderful changes. ‘Hout na, sir,’ answered the stout-hearted old Whigamore; ‘the warld is just wi’ me where it began. When I was entering life, there was ane Knox deaving[2] us a’ wi’ his clavers,[3] and noo I am ganging out, there is ane Claver’se deaving us wi’ his knocks.’
2. Deaving, i.e. deafening.
3. Clavers, idle chattering.
There can be little doubt the old lady’s courage and humour were equally appreciated by the General.
Lord Dundee married Jane, youngest daughter of Lord Cochrane, and (as before mentioned) granddaughter of the first Earl of Dundonald, by whom he had an only son, James, who succeeded to his father’s titles, but died a few months after.
No. 138.
No. 139.
SHE was the daughter, and one of the co-heirs of Robert Earl of Warwick. She married (as his first wife) Daniel Finch, second Earl of Nottingham, who afterwards succeeded his father (the famous Chancellor) as Earl of Winchilsea. Lady Essex Rich had one daughter, married to the Marquis of Halifax.
No. 140.
No. 141.
THIS portrait is supposed to be that of Richard Kelifet, Esq. of ‘The Place,’ Egham, county Surrey.
He was chief groom of Queen Elizabeth’s removing wardrobe, and yeoman of Her Majesty’s standing wardrobe, and a most faithful servant of Her Majesty, according to an inscription on his monument in Egham Church. His daughter Cicely married Sir John Denham, Baron of the Exchequer, to whom she brought ‘The Place,’ at Egham, as her dower.
In 1673 this house was occupied by a connection of the Longleat family, John Thynne, Esq., when (we are told) ‘it contained many valuable and curious pictures.’ This circumstance may possibly be a clew to the fact that the portrait above-named finds a place in the collection of the Marquis of Bath.
No. 142.
HE was the eldest son of William, second Duke of Somerset, by his second wife, Lady Frances Devereux, eldest daughter of the Earl of Essex. He married Mary, daughter of Lord Capel, by whom he had one son, William, (who succeeded his grandfather as Duke of Somerset,) and three daughters. Two died in infancy, and the third married Thomas Lord Bruce, afterwards Earl of Ailesbury.
Lord Beauchamp died vita patris.
No. 143.
FIFTH son of Heneage Finch, second Earl of Winchilsea, by Lady Mary Seymour, daughter of William Duke of Somerset.
He was Warden of All Souls, Oxford. Married Lucy, daughter and co-heir of John Davie, of Ruxford, in the county of Devon, and died without children.
No. 144.
DAUGHTER of Lord Keeper Coventry, married first Sir William Savile, and afterwards Sir Thomas Chicheley of Wimpole, Cambridgeshire.
No. 145.
WAS the son of Philip III., King of Spain, by Margaret, daughter of Charles Archduke of Austria, and born at the Escurial.
When only ten years old he was created Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo, and other dignities were conferred on him, which brought in enormous revenues. His father on his deathbed sent for the little ecclesiastic, and admonished him on the sacred nature of his duties. Ferdinand was remarkable as a warrior, a politician, a connoisseur of art, a man of pleasure, and much given to hospitality. He kept open house at his country palace near Madrid, where he instituted a species of dramatic performance, half-pageant, half-operatic, which took the name of the Zarzuelas, from the country house in question. He studied foreign languages, mathematics, philosophy, and strategics; loved books and literary society, patronised the arts, studied painting himself under Vincenzo and Carducho, and sat for his portrait both to Vandyck and Rubens.
But the career in which he distinguished himself most was that of arms. He was an enthusiastic soldier and an able general, and did good service for Spain in the field, especially at the battle of Nordlingen, against the Imperialists. Upon the death of the Archduchess Clara Eugenia, Ferdinand Cardinal Infant succeeded to the government of the Low Countries, and continued his military career with honour and success. A parallel has been drawn between him and the Cardinal Ippolito de Medici, natural son to Julian of that house:—Both ecclesiastics by profession, and soldiers by choice; both remarkable for personal beauty, for accomplishments as well as learning, fond of the fine arts, of society and splendid living; both sat for their portraits in most unclerical costumes,—Ippolito to Titian in the dress of a Hungarian noble,—see the superb picture at Florence; the other to Rubens,—armed and mounted on his charger, ready for the field. It was his boast, among other successes, that he obliged the army of the Prince of Orange twice to raise the siege of Guelders. He died the 6th of November 1641, when his loving countrymen erected a gorgeous monument to his memory in the cathedral at Toledo, seventy feet high, the work of Lorenzo Fernandez de Salazar, with eulogistic inscriptions in various languages. The funeral was conducted with great pomp. Canon Antonio Calderon pronounced the funeral oration, speaking of him as one of Spain’s greatest men,—a hero, a skilful general, a virtuous citizen. Nor did the preacher forget to remind all good Catholics that the scene of Ferdinand’s most celebrated victory was Nordlingen, where ‘the heretic Luther had preached his most pestilent doctrines.’
No. 146.
STUDIED under the famous Dr. Birch, who boasted of the number of statesmen he had educated; showed great promise. In 1688 he raised a troop of horse for the service of William of Orange, whom he joined, but who showed him no particular favour. Harley sat in Parliament, but waited for office till 1704, when Queen Anne gave him a seat in the Council, and made him Secretary of State. He was much opposed to Godolphin and Marlborough, and made common cause with the Queen’s new favourite, Mrs. Masham, to overthrow the power of the Whigs.
The Ministers insisted on his dismissal, but the Queen stood by him as long as she could. When Harley was compelled to resign, the Queen said to him: ‘You see the unfortunate condition of monarchs,—they are obliged to give up their friends to please their enemies;’ but so good was Anne’s opinion of Harley, that she constantly consulted him on public affairs, even when out of office.
On the downfall of the Whig Administration, he was made Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Treasurer.
He was much censured, even by his own party, for some of his financial measures, by which however he enriched the royal coffers. In March 1711 an event happened which made a great noise, and rendered Harley the hero of the day. A French adventurer called Bourlie, or the Marquis de Guiscard, was a shifty individual, who acted first as a spy of England against France, and then of France against England, being in the pay of both. His intrigues were discovered, and he was brought before the Privy Council. Believing that Harley had been instrumental in his detection, he resolved to be revenged. While waiting his turn for examination, he found means to secrete about his person a penknife which was lying on the table, among some papers. No sooner was he brought forward, than he rushed in a fury upon Harley and stabbed him several times, the Minister falling senseless on the ground, covered with blood. A scene of confusion ensued, and the Duke of Buckingham, drawing his sword, wounded the assassin, who was conveyed to Newgate, where he died in a few days, either from the effect of the sword-thrusts or by his own hand.
The event seemed to have revived Harley’s popularity; both Houses presented an address to the Queen, assuring her that Harley’s loyalty had brought this attack upon him, etc. etc., and when he reappeared in the House, a brilliant reception awaited him, and a Bill was passed making an attempt on the life of a Privy Councillor a felony, which deprived the offender of benefit of clergy. In the same year, Robert Harley, being then Lord High Treasurer, was created Baron Wigmore, and Earl of Oxford and Mortimer, and next year he received the Garter, and became Prime Minister of England.
Lords Oxford and Bolingbroke at first worked together to withstand the power of the opposition, and to bring about the pacification of Europe, and the Peace of Utrecht added to the popularity of the ministerial party; but dissensions arose between Bolingbroke and the Premier, and recriminations and fresh intrigues, in which Mrs. Masham was implicated, all of which belongs to England’s political history.
Oxford was deprived of all his offices, and accused of plotting in favour of the Pretender. The Queen died, and in 1715 he was sent to the Tower, on an accusation of high treason. He was imprisoned for two years, and on his release gave himself up to the enjoyment of art and literature. He formed a magnificent library, which cost him a fortune, not only from the splendour of the works themselves, but on account of their sumptuous binding. His collection of MSS., called after him the Harleian MSS., which was afterwards greatly increased by his son, is now one of the glories of the British Museum, purchased by the Government after the second Lord Oxford’s death.
Few men have been more eulogised on the one hand and reviled on the other, but he has been unanimously described as a kind patron of men of letters.
It was Harley who brought into operation the measure known to posterity as ‘The South Sea Bubble,’ which entailed ruin on numbers, and in spite of much opposition he established State lotteries.
Lord Oxford was twice married, first to Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Foley of Whitley Court, county Worcester, by whom he had one son, and two daughters; and, secondly, to Sarah, daughter of Thomas Myddleton, Esq., who was childless.
No. 147.
THE youngest son of Lord John Russell, afterwards sixth Duke of Bedford, by the Hon. Georgiana Elizabeth Byng. Born in the very crisis of the French Revolution, his uncle (the reigning Duke) was the champion of French ideas, and having been carried far beyond the opinions of his family, which for more than a century had been zealously Whig, both he and his brother, young Russell’s father, settled that on John’s leaving Westminster, he should go to the University of Edinburgh, Oxford and Cambridge being too Tory in their proclivities to suit the family traditions. By the time (we quote an able article in the Times of 1878) the youth left College, his political faith had crystallised into something very like that in which he consistently lived, laboured, and died. A visit to the Peninsula, however, where the star of Wellington was then in the ascendant, modified his French ideas and inspired him with such an admiration for the hero, that ever afterwards, in the fiercest political struggle, John Russell maintained towards the Duke the attitude and language of profound respect, almost amounting to veneration. On his return to England, while still under age, he sat for Tavistock, and threw himself heart and soul into the Parliamentary fray at one of the most eventful periods of the history, not only of England, but of Europe, and of that history John Russell’s career forms a most important feature. But our limited space will only allow us to glance at the prominent events of his life. He was a zealous advocate for Catholic Emancipation, and all Liberal measures, and from the very first threw in his lot with those who demanded Parliamentary reform, in which cause he was the primary mover, and the draught for the first Bill of which was drawn up by his own hand. To his early efforts in this cause Macaulay refers with his usual eloquence, saying: ‘Those were proud and happy days, when amid the applause and blessings of millions, my noble friend led us on in the struggle for the Reform Bill; when hundreds waited round our doors till sunrise, to hear how well we had sped; when the great cities of the North poured forth their populations on the highway to meet the mails which brought tidings from the capital, whether the battle of the people had been lost or won,’ etc. etc. Lord John Russell sat for Tavistock, Hunts, Bandon, etc.; and was a member of the Lower House for forty-seven years, during many of which he was the leader of the Opposition. He filled at various times many of the highest offices of State, Home, Foreign, Colonial, Lord President of the Council, Commissioner to the Congress at Vienna, and First Lord of the Treasury from 1846 to 1852. Once more Foreign Secretary in 1859, and again at the head of the Government in 1865, he retired in 1866, having been raised to the Peerage as Earl Russell and Viscount Amberley in 1861, and receiving the Garter in 1862. He married, first, (in 1835,) Adelaide, daughter of Thomas Lister, of Armitage Park, widow of the second Lord Ribblesdale; she died in 1838, leaving two daughters. His second wife was Lady Frances Elliot, daughter of Gilbert, second Earl of Minto, by whom he had three sons and a daughter. Besides a drama, ‘Don Carlos,’ written in his youth, Lord Russell was the author of several literary works, political, historical, etc. etc. He died at Pembroke Lodge in 1878. His latter years had been much embittered by the premature death of his eldest son, Lord Amberley, and his wife (a daughter of Lord Stanley of Alderley), within a few months of each other. They left two little children, of whom one is the present Earl Russell.
No. 148.
DOUBTFUL. Called the Countess of Stamford. Possibly Lady Ogle, married to Thomas Thynne of Ten Thousand.
No. 149.
FATHER of the second Lord Weymouth.
No. 150.
Red cloak. Black skull-cap. Embroidered vest and gauntlets. Gold chain and medal. Ruff. Holding a wand. In the background is the coat of arms of the Coningsby family.
No. 151.
SHE was the eldest daughter of the Duke of Portland by Lady Margaret Harley. In 1754 she married Thomas Thynne, first Marquis of Bath, by whom she had a very large family. She survived her husband many years.
No. 152.
No. 153.
No. 154.
THE daughter of Robert Brudenell, second Earl of Cardigan, by Anne, daughter of Viscount Savage. She married Francis, eleventh Earl of Shrewsbury, as his second wife.
De Grammont, in describing the beauties of the Court of the new Queen, Catherine of Braganza, mentions Lady Shrewsbury in the first flight. She seems to have surpassed most of the members of the royal circle in vice and effrontery, and a long list is given by the author above quoted of those who did not sigh in vain, but De Grammont says she was even more remarkable for the misfortunes she brought on those with whom she had to deal than for her conquests. The well-known wit and courtier, Thomas Killigrew, after her desertion of him for the Duke of Buckingham, amused himself by writing lampoons and speaking of her in a most unrestrained manner. He had been admonished that such a proceeding would prove dangerous, but persisted in his invectives. He was attacked one evening on his return from the Duke of York’s at St. James’s by some assassins, who made several sword-thrusts through his chair, one of which pierced his arm. After this narrow escape he bridled his tongue and pen, but sought for no redress, well aware the attempt would be fruitless.
Pepys tells us the Duke of Buckingham took Lady Shrewsbury to his house, whereupon the Duchess, usually very sparing of her reproaches, remarked it was not fit for her and the other to remain together under the same roof, to which the Duke agreed, adding, ‘I have therefore, Madam, ordered your coach to take you to your father’s;’—a speech which honest Pepys designates as ‘devilish.’
Evelyn, in his account of his visits to Newmarket, ‘where was racing, revelling, and feasting with jolly blades’ during the King’s residence there, mentions the Duke of Buckingham with that abandoned woman, Shrewsbury, with fiddlers, and the like, ‘all of which,’ he said, ‘did ill become a Christian court.’
Her lover also installed her in his beautiful country house on the banks of the Thames, to which Pope alludes—
But the incident by which she is best remembered is the famous duel, which ended so fatally. Whether Buckingham’s boasts were too loud, when he expatiated on the constancy and devotion of the hitherto fickle beauty, or from some other cause, the patient husband’s indignation was at length roused, and he sent a challenge to the Duke. We subjoin Pepys’s account: ‘Much discourse of the duel between the Duke of Buckingham, Holmes, and one Jenkins on one side, and my Lord of Shrewsbury, Sir John Talbot, and one Bernard Howard, on the other. It was all about my Lady Shrewsbury, who is, and hath been for a long time, mistress to the Duke of Buckingham. The husband challenged him, and they met yesterday, January the 16th, 1667, in a close, near Barne Elmes, and Lord Shrewsbury is wounded, run through the body from the right breast, through the shoulder, and Sir John, all along one of his arms, and Jenkins is killed, and the rest all in a measure wounded.’ Pepys makes a sapient remark on the subject: ‘This will make the world think that the King has some good councillors about him, when the Duke, the greatest man, is a fellow of no more sobriety than to fight a duel about a mistress.’ He tells us that the King, having got wind of the matter, had sent a message by the Duke of Albemarle to Buckingham, forbidding him to fight, which message, like many others, was never delivered. ‘There was great talk of the business, and Lord Shrewsbury’s case was considered very bad, and if he should die, it might make it worse for the Duke of Buckingham, and I shall not be much sorry for it, as we may have some more sober man in his place, to assist in the Government.’
On the 16th of the ensuing March, Lord Shrewsbury died of his wounds. There is a story currently believed, that his shameless wife held her lover’s horse, during the duel, in the disguise of a page.
The Queen put herself at the head of a party that declaimed against the Duke and his wicked transactions; but she was soon silenced, and the whole matter hushed up.
Lady Shrewsbury lived to find a man adventurous enough to marry her, in the person of the son of Sir Thomas Brydges of Keynsham, county Somerset. She died at the age of eighty-one.