"'It is the blue ribbon of the turf,' he slowly repeated to himself, and sitting down at the table he buried himself in a folio of statistics."
In a personal allusion to the arduous political labours of Lord George Bentinck, Disraeli says: "What was not his least remarkable trait, is that although he only breakfasted on dry toast, he took no sustenance all this time, dining at White's at half-past two o'clock in the morning. After his severe attack of influenza he broke through this habit a little during the last few months of his life, moved by the advice of his physician and the instance of his friends. The writer of these observations prevailed upon him a little the last year to fall into the easy habit of dining at Bellamy's, which saves much time and permits the transaction of business in conversation with a congenial friend. But he grudged it; he always thought that something would be said or done in his absence, which would not have occurred had he been there; some motion whisked through or some return altered. His principle was that a member should never be absent from his seat."
Disraeli thus describes the last farewell he took of Lord George and his tragic death a few days afterwards:
"He goes to his native county and his father's proud domain, to breathe the air of his boyhood and move amid the parks and meads of his youth. Every breeze will bear health, and the sight of every hallowed haunt will stimulate his pulse. He is scarcely older than Julius Cæsar when he commenced his public career, he looks as high and brave, and he springs from a long-lived race.
"He stood upon the perron of Harcourt House, the last of the great hotels of an age of stately manners, with its wings and courtyard, and carriage portal, and huge outward walls. He put forth his hand to bid farewell, and his last words are characteristic of the man, of his warm feelings, and of his ruling passion: 'God bless you; we must work, and the country will come round us.'"
A few days after this interview Lord George returned to Welbeck.
"Some there were who thought him worn by the exertion of the session, and that an unusual pallor had settled upon that mantling and animated countenance. He himself never felt in better health or was ever in higher spirits, and greatly enjoyed the change of life, and that change in a scene so dear to him.
"On the 21st of September, 1848, after breakfasting with his family, he retired to his dressing-room, where he employed himself with some papers and then wrote three letters, one to Lord Enfield, another to the Duke of Richmond, and the third to the writer of these pages. That letter is now at hand; it is of considerable length, consisting of seven sheets of notepaper, full of interesting details of men and things, and written not only in a cheerful but even in a merry mood. Then, when his letters were sealed, about four o'clock he took his staff and went forth to walk to Thoresby, the seat of Lord Manvers, distant between five and six miles from Welbeck, and where Lord George was to make a visit of two days. In consequence of this his valet drove over to Thoresby at the same time to meet his master. But the master never came. At length the anxious servant returned to Welbeck, and called up the groom who had driven him over to Thoresby, and who was in bed, and enquired whether he had seen anything of Lord George on the way back, as his Lord had never reached Thoresby. The groom got up, and along with the valet and two others, took lanthorns and followed the footpath which they had seen Lord George pursuing as they themselves went to Thoresby.
"About a mile from the Abbey, on the path which they had observed him following, lying close to the gate which separates a water meadow from the deer park, they found the body of Lord George Bentinck. He was lying on his face; his arms were under his body, and in one hand he grasped his walking-stick. His hat was a yard or two before him, having evidently been thrown off in falling. The body was cold and stiff. He had been long dead.
"A woodman and some peasants passing near the spot, about two hundred yards from the gate in question, had observed Lord George, whom at the distance they had mistaken for his brother, the Marquis of Titchfield, leaning against this gate. It was then about half-past four o'clock, or it might be a quarter to five, so he could not have left his home much more than half-an-hour. The woodman and his companions thought 'the gentleman' was reading, as he held his head down. One of them lingered for a minute looking at the gentleman, who then turned round, and might have seen these passers-by, but he made no sign to them.
"Thus it seems that the attack, which was supposed to be a spasm of the heart, was not instantaneous in its effects, but with proper remedies, might have been baffled. Terrible to think of him in his death-struggle without aid and so near a devoted hearth. For that hearth too, what an inpending future!
"The terrible news reached Nottingham on the morning of the 22nd, at half-past nine o'clock, and immediately telegraphed to London, was announced by a second edition of the Times to the country. Consternation and deep grief fell upon all men. One week later, the remains arrived from Welbeck at Harcourt House, to be entombed in the family vault of the Bentincks, that is to be found in a small building in a dingy street, now a chapel of ease, but in old days the Parish Church among the fields of the pretty village of Marylebone.
"The day of the interment was dark and cold, and drizzling. Although the last offices were performed in the most scrupulously private manner, the feelings of the community could not be repressed. From nine till eleven o'clock that day all the British shipping in the docks and the river, from London Bridge to Gravesend, hoisted their flags half-mast high, and minute guns were fired from appointed stations along the Thames. The same mournful ceremony was observed in all the ports of England and Ireland; and not only in these, for the flag was half-mast high on every British ship at Antwerp, at Rotterdam, at Havre.
"Ere the last minute gun sounded all was over. Followed to his tomb by those brothers who, if not consoled, might at this moment be sustained by the remembrance that to him they had ever been brothers, not only in name but in spirit, the vault at length closed on the mortal remains of George Bentinck."
Such was the conventional view which Society took of the sad circumstances of Lord George's death.
The old Duke was over eighty years of age and too infirm to attend the funeral, but the Marquis of Titchfield and Lord Henry Bentinck were present.
As in most mysteries, there were other conjectures more or less improbable.
Years afterwards it was put down to the account of Palmer the poisoner, who it was said had administered strychnine to Lord George as he did to some other members of the aristocracy.
But what was Palmer's motive?
Had Lord George and he any betting transactions together in which Palmer had lost, and finding himself unable to pay, destroyed his noble creditor with diabolical secrecy?
Yet Palmer in 1848 was a young doctor, aged about twenty-three, just setting out on his professional career.
It was not until a few years afterwards that Palmer commenced to turn his attention to turf transactions, therefore it is difficult to find a motive which should be some evidence against him as the perpetrator of this crime.
The case of Palmer was an extraordinary one. He was a medical practitioner at Rugeley in Staffordshire, and having become infatuated with betting had no scruples about removing those to whom he had contracted debts of honour. It was not till the early months of 1856 that light was shed upon some of his fiendish designs and after a long trial he was sentenced to be hanged at Stafford gaol.
Palmer boasted of his racing transactions with the aristocracy, and if Lord George was one of his victims seven years before 1856, the miscreant had had plenty of time to harden his conscience in working his foul plots against others whom it was his sordid interest to destroy.
Another wild theory was that there had been a quarrel between the Marquis of Titchfield and Lord George.
One reason for the dispute was alleged to be that Lord George had been a heavy loser instead of a gainer by his gigantic gambling operations, that he was in want of money, either from his brother the Marquis, or his father, the Duke.
To allege that he was in debt is not consistent with the belief that he had won large sums by backing horses of which he was so keen a judge.
Again it was surmised that the reason for the quarrel—if there was one—was Miss A.M. Berkeley, with whom they were reputed to be both enamoured.
The origin of this lady gives a glimpse of another romance. Her mother was an exceedingly beautiful lady, the daughter of a tradesman, and she became the wife of the Earl of Berkeley.
Fanny Kemble writes of the Countess in terms of admiration; but alludes to the marriage with the addition of the phrase ("by courtesy") and how, on being presented at Court she was frowned at by Queen Charlotte, though George III. did not share the unfavourable sentiments entertained by his wife.
The marriage with the Earl was the subject of a cause celèbre before the House of Lords, with the result that the ceremony was held to be illegal, which thus affected the position of Miss A.M. Berkeley.
Mrs. Margaret Jane Louise Hamilton, a widow lady, the daughter of Mr. Robert Lennox Stuart, made a startling statement which was widely reported in the newspapers at the time that the Druce case assumed a new aspect in 1903. She said that she had been told the details of the death of Lord George Bentinck by her father, who was an eye-witness of the quarrel—if quarrel there was.
Her father was a playmate of the Duke's when they were boys, and she herself was a god-daughter of the fourth Duke.
Not only was Mr. Stuart an eye-witness, but she said Mr. Sergeant, another gentleman, was too.
Lord George was violent in manner towards the Marquis (whom Mrs. Hamilton identified as Mr. Druce) using threatening language towards him and striking him repeatedly.
At last the Marquis retaliated with one blow over the heart, and although it was not a heavy blow, the position where it struck was sufficient to cause death.
Mrs. Hamilton added that she had heard Druce say to her father, "You know, Stuart, I never intended to kill him. I only struck in self-defence."
Druce was remorseful after the tragedy and spoke of surrendering to the police, but Mr. Stuart and Mr. Sergeant persuaded him not to.
Her father said that Druce was nervous and always afraid that the deed would come to light.
Whether the Marquis was there or not to quarrel with his brother, the labourers who said they thought they recognised him, acknowledged that they might have been mistaken.
A point which the evidence at the inquest did not clear up was the whereabouts of the Marquis at the time of the tragedy. The labourers said they thought they saw him.
If it was not he, where was he?
That is a question unanswered to this day.
Lord George was never married, and it has been said of him that "he was notable for the purity of his life."
It was believed that he entertained a deep regard for a highly-placed married lady, whose virtue was beyond suspicion, and hence he lived and died a bachelor.
Three years after the death of Lord George it is said that the Marquis married Miss Annie May Berkeley in the name of Druce.
CHAPTER VII
THE ECCENTRIC DUKE AND HIS UNDERGROUND TUNNELS
The story of the transformation of Welbeck enters upon a new stage with the succession, in 1854, of the Marquis of Titchfield (William John Cavendish-Scott-Bentinck) as fifth Duke, born in 1800. He it was who designed and had constructed the mysterious underground apartments and tunnels for which the Abbey and its environs are famous. There were miles of weird passages beneath the surface of the earth, one tunnel alone being nearly a mile and a half in length, stretching towards Worksop, while others ran in various directions.
Welbeck is nearly 4 miles from Worksop, and a stranger on approaching the Abbey is likely to receive a mean impression of its vast extent. The architecture is a mixture of the Italian and classical styles, and its having been built at different periods, with so many of its adjuncts underground, makes it wanting in imposing features.
In various parts of the estate about 50 lodges were erected for the occupancy of gardeners and keepers. They were of Steetley stone, all similarly planned and pleasing to the eye, what there was of them above ground; but the Duke had subterranean kitchens made at the side and lighted them with bulls'-eyes at the top.
He spent about 100,000l. a year in the development of his plans, and employed as many as 1,500 workpeople in helping him to gratify his hobby. When it is remembered that his reign as Duke lasted a quarter of a century, from 1854 to 1879, it will be seen that artisans of all descriptions found Welbeck a veritable gold-mine. Even so late as November, 1878, a Nottingham newspaper correspondent, on visiting Welbeck, was impressed with its appearance as that of the premises of "some great contractor who had an order for the building of a big village." There was the buzz of machinery, large areas were covered with bricklayers', masons' and joiners' sheds, wherein any new mechanical contrivance was put to the test. For more than eighteen years the vicinity of the house resembled a builder's yard, in the centre of which the Duke lived and moved and had his being, enjoying, in his way, the piles of bricks and mortar surrounding him. After he had decided upon the erection of a new building he had a model of it made for his inspection, and if approved of, it was proceeded with.
Any tramp or wayfarer who applied for work at Welbeck was put on the staff, and the market value of his labour paid. The Duke seemed to find grim pleasure in the society of the casuals who made their way to his stone-yards.
The wing built by the Countess of Oxford in a former generation had a new storey put to it, with a magnificent suite of 14 new rooms furnished in Louis XIV. style, richly gilded, and with mantelpieces of white marble.
An underground passage was made leading to the old riding school, built by the Duke of Newcastle in 1623, but since converted to other uses, such as a library and church, after the erection of the new riding school. Beneath it are great wine cellars with subterranean communications.
The most wonderful of the underground apartments built by the Duke was the picture-gallery, or as it was intended to be, the ball-room. It is lighted from the roof by means of bulls'-eyes. An enormous sum was spent in labour, excavating the solid clay in order that this magnificent saloon might be constructed.
Some choice examples of the great masters are contained in this palace of art, which is 158 feet long, 63 feet wide, and 22 feet high. Here are examples of the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, de Mytens, Tintoretto, Teniers, Snyders, Bassano, Wyck, de Vos, Greffier, Francks, Berghem, Zucchero, Wootton, Breughel, Dirk Maas, Netscher, Gagnacci, Gerard Honthorst, Van der Meulen, Rigaud, Vandyke, Holbein, Kneller, Lely, Dahl, M. Shee, Knapton, West, Jansen, Verelst; in fact not only in the picture-gallery, but in all parts of the Abbey are scattered treasures of art and vertu. Among the interesting curiosities are the one-pearl drop-earrings seen in the portraits of Charles I., and worn by him on the morning of his execution; also the silver-gilt chalice from which he received the consecrated wine on that fateful morning at Whitehall. The chalice bears the following inscription; "King Charles the First received the communion in this Boule on Tuesday the 30th of January, 1664, being the day in which he was murthered." In the library are autograph letters from the Stuarts, including one from Mary Queen of Scots, signed "Your very good friend."
There is a portrait of Adelaide Kemble, with whom the Duke is said to have been in love in early manhood. The actress is in the pose of her histrionic profession, and in another part of the gallery is a bust of the Duke by H.R. Pinker (1880).
The gigantic riding school is about 380 feet long, 112 feet wide, and 50 feet high, and from it is a subterranean passage leading to the tan gallop, designed for the exercise of horses. The length of this gallop is 1270 feet, and it is all under a glass roof. He had about 100 horses, and his stables extended over an area almost as large as a village.
Of all his extraordinary hobbies that of planning subterranean passages has excited the most wonder and satire. These tunnels, in which it was possible for three persons to walk abreast in some parts, were lighted with gas jets placed at intervals. One at least of the tunnels is large enough for a horse and cart to be driven through.
The drive from Worksop is a delightful one, but all at once the stranger is surprised to find himself in a cavern, leading as might be supposed to the catacombs. It was no uncommon thing for the Duke to rise up out of a tunnel and appear in the midst of a gang of workmen when they were little expecting him, and when, perhaps, they were idling their time, or making uncomplimentary remarks about him.
When the tunnels were in course of construction there might be seen a procession of men on donkeys going to and fro. It was all in a piece with his Grace's conduct that he should purchase donkeys for them to ride upon; but the animals, when let loose, would gnaw at the trees, so the services of the four-legged asses were dispensed with.
His manner of dealing with a strike was a summary one. The wages of the excavators of the tunnels were fifteen shillings a week regularly, sunshine or rain; but the men thought their rich employer could afford them an increase, so they struck.
"You can strike as long as you like," was the message sent by the Duke, "it does not matter to me if the work is never done."
This cool attitude had its effect, the strike was at an end, and the tunnelling proceeded.
One reason given for planning the tunnels was that when he first desired to withdraw himself from observation he tried to close the public rights of way over the estate. This brought him into collision with the powers that be, and he compromised matters to his own satisfaction by making the underground roadways. His cynicism was rich.
"Here have I had provided for you at enormous expense a clean pathway underground, lighted with gas too, and you will persist in walking above ground," was his salute to some astounded visitors. The idea that they should prefer the sunshine, the delightful woodland scenery and sweet-smelling scents wafted over Welbeck in summer-time, to the gaseous tunnels, as if they were rabbits having natural affinities to the burrows of the earth, was one only worthy of a ducal misanthropist.
He was "The Invisible Prince," he liked to take men unawares, he enjoyed a grim joke at their expense, though whether he ever showed signs of merriment, at least in after life, is not so much in the memories of those who knew him, as his eccentricities. He is more associated with the character of an ogre and a cynic who shunned his fellow-men, yet there are some of his employees still living who give him a good word as a kind and considerate master.
There have been various reasons put forth to account for his withdrawal from the society of his peers. It was said that he was smitten with leprosy, that he had an incurable skin desease; then that his love affairs had gone awry when he was a young man, with the result that he became a woman-hater, then a hater of mankind generally.
The Duke was moody and uncertain in his temper. Sometimes he would pass pedestrians in the park without noticing them; at other times strangers would be astonished to hear a shabby old ogre break out at them in profane language because of their intrusion upon his domains, and they would be still more astonished when making complaints about the conduct of this disreputable person, to find that it was the Duke himself.
At that time the use of a traction-engine in agriculture was somewhat of a novelty, and because it was different from the appliances generally used by farmers, was a recommendation to the Duke.
It was nine o'clock one night when he said to his haymakers: "Take the carts home and bring another load with the engine."
"Excuse me, your Grace," said one, "If the engine is made of steel and iron I'm not. I'm tired out."
"Well, perhaps you are, go home then," came the order, which is testimony to the consideration he had for his employees when he was addressed in a manly, straightforward way.
There was a grotesque procession one day at a farm on the Welbeck estate. It was a rainy summer, and the farmers were at their wits'-ends to know how they were to secure their hay in anything like good condition.
The Duke was not a man to be beaten by the weather; he defied it; he was determined to have his grass in the rickyard, wet or dry. So the order went forth that his traction-engine and waggons were to be ready for carrying it on a certain day.
There was to be no shirking, for the Duke's intention was to be with his men to see that the work was done. So he went to the farm in his long brown cape and high silk hat and an umbrella which might have done duty for Hans William Bentinck in the swamps of Holland.
The harvesters filled the waggons in a downpour of rain and the cavalcade started for the homestead. There were three or four waggons behind the engine, and in the last, lo and behold, sat his Grace, grim, silent and self-satisfied that the elements had no terrors for him.
What a life his was to lead; he was a veritable prisoner, having himself for a warder.
The special apartment used by him in the daytime was fitted with a trap-door in the floor, by which he could descend to the regions below, and thus roam about his underground tunnels without the servants knowing whether he was in the house or had left it. By means of this trap-door, after walking to some distant part of his estate and astonishing his workmen there, he could re-appear in the Abbey as mysteriously as he had left it.
The apartment with the trap-door had another door opening into an ante-room, and here his servants received their orders.
The "Prince of Silence" rarely spoke to his attendants; he wrote down on paper what he required and placed it in the letter-box of the door opening into the ante-room. Then he rang a bell, when a servant would come and read what he had written and carry out the order accordingly.
The Duke's bedstead was an immense square erection, constructed in an extraordinary manner. There were large doors to it, so arranged that when folded it was impossible to know whether the bed was occupied by its owner.
He was a lonely traveller, and even when he went to Paris would have no companion with him. His arrangements were made by an avant courier, and when it became known that he had arrived in the gay city, the English aristocracy paid formal visits to him.
These attentions were too much for his habit of loneliness, and he vanished to St. Germains. A few weeks' stay here was enough for him, and he came back to Paris, not lingering more than a couple of days, and then proceeded by stages to Calais and on to London.
One of the best authenticated stories of the fifth Duke relates to his habit of riding alone in a carriage specially constructed to secure privacy. As was natural the more it became known that he wanted to escape observation the more was curiosity aroused to see him, so that a considerable part of his life was spent in adopting stratagems to prevent sight-seers from catching a glimpse of the aristocratic enigma.
The carriage was so made that when the doors were closed no one could see into it, though there were spy-holes arranged that the Duke could look out on all sides and not be observed.
One day the Duke had sent his usual written order for his carriage to proceed by road to London.
The postillions started quite oblivious that they had his Grace with them in his mysteriously-constructed vehicle.
It was a long journey, and as they passed stage after stage, their delays for refreshments became longer and their stoppages more frequent.
They had just pulled up at a country inn when they were horrified to hear a sepulchral voice from the hearse-like chariot shouting,
"What the devil are you stopping for?"
These few words were enough. They came from the voice of the Duke whom they saw not, but recognised by his tones from his tomb on wheels.
The postillions sprang upon the horses and tarried not till they had arrived before the portico of Harcourt House where the great myth descended unseen to his room.
Harcourt House, Cavendish-square, was a famous London mansion, for many years in the possession of the Dukes of Portland. The building of this stately town residence was commenced in 1722 for Earl Harcourt. It had a noble courtyard facing Cavendish-square, and an imposing porte cochère, with a large garden and wide-spreading trees, which were such extraordinary features to be found as adjuncts to the old London palaces of the nobility. Then there was a range of stabling enough to accommodate the stud of a monarch.
This noble mansion was gambled away at a card-party when the stakes were high and the players were the third Duke, grandfather of the eccentric peer, and Earl Harcourt. Thus it came into possession of the Bentincks.
During the occupancy of the fifth Duke, the curious freaks of building for which he was so famous at Welbeck were repeated at Harcourt House. He had the garden enclosed with a gigantic screen of ground-glass, extending for 200 feet on each side and 80 feet high. His object in having this screen constructed was that the residents of Henrietta-street and Wigmore-street might be prevented from seeing into the garden and possibly catching a glimpse of his Grace when taking a stroll.
The gamble for Harcourt House was commuted into a leasehold tenancy by the intervention of the lawyers, who declared that the ownership of the mansion could not be separated from the rest of the estate.
In more recent years the leasehold interest was purchased by the Earl of Breadalbane, and on its expiration, it eventually came to Sir William Harcourt, the statesman, and in August, 1904, was offered for sale. The site of the beautiful garden, with its screen and stables, was purchased by the Post-office authorities. Sic gloria transit of one of the famous houses of London.
Though he had such magnificent palaces, both in Sherwood Forest and in London, the Duke was not given to entertaining guests after the manner of a great noble. His father had sent the family plate to be kept by Messrs. Drummond, bankers, and it was the current belief that the son never had it from the vaults of the bank to grace his tables at Welbeck or Harcourt House.
His sisters seldom visited him, although one of them, Lady Ossington, lived at Ossington Hall, about 15 miles away, in the same county as Welbeck.
The gossips of his lifetime would have it that his pet aversions were tobacco, women, and anyone in the garb of a gentleman; but he had a taste for drinking stout and lived on a simple dietary.
These stories involve a tissue of inconsistencies. His correspondence with Fanny Kemble when he was Marquis of Titchfield, already quoted, shows his kind consideration, not only for her, but for other ladies who moved in higher circles. There was his friendship with Lady Cork, who was often seen by the workmen on the estate driving Shetland ponies. She was a visitor at Cuckney Hall, which was part of the Welbeck domain. Again there are instances on record of his courtesy to those of the opposite sex whom he met in the park; besides which there were many female servants engaged at the Abbey.
"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast"; but among the other idiosyncrasies laid to his charge, it was said that rather than soothe, it irritated him.
Mrs. Hamilton's testimony is that Mr. Druce (assuming him to have been identical with the Duke) was extremely fond of music, and that she had played to him for hours at a time.
"Sing me the old songs, Stuart" Druce would say to her father, who not only sang, but played the violin.
Moreover the workmen at Welbeck were allowed to have a band which performed at the Abbey on Christmas-eve and the bandsmen were given refreshments.
What a quaint figure the Duke's was. When away from home he wore a wig, but not indoors, his tall hat had a broad brim, he wore a white tie and high collar, his trousers tied round his legs, were of check, with a frock coat and dark waistcoat.
His habits were fastidious, and he would not handle bronze or silver coins before they had been washed. Then he forbade persons to touch their hats to him if they met him.
His manner of dispensing benefactions was characteristic. Sometimes he was lavish in his generosity, while on other occasions he replied in burning words to those who appealed to him.
An instance of the latter is afforded in his reply to the members of a Friendly Society which was in straits for the want of 10l. He told them that if it was a Club established on sound lines, it would be worth their while to subscribe the money among themselves, and if not, he declined to maintain a bankrupt organisation.
He was a devourer of the contents of newspapers, and took all the principal London and provincial daily issues, as well as many weekly journals, which were filed and bound. His bill for one year came to 1,300l. He had four sets of the papers he thought worth preserving, one being at Welbeck, another at Fullarton House, a third at Bothal Castle, and a fourth at Harcourt House. This collection of current literature of the day is believed to be the largest private library outside the British Museum.
In January, 1855, the Crimean War was in progress, and the Duke having given 500l. to the Patriotic Fund, further showed his bounty by ordering that several fat bullocks, 100 head of deer and 1,000 hares should be potted and sent out to the scene of action. Besides these eatables he gave a quantity of unbleached cotton and flannel to be made into shirts and other garments by the ladies of Worksop and district. In that same month Major-General Bentinck, who had been wounded in the right arm, arrived at Welbeck, intending to return to the war as soon as his wound would allow him.
It was formerly the custom for everyone who paid a visit to the stately home in Sherwood Forest, whether on business or pleasure, not to come away without tasting the Worksop ale. Its quality was renowned, and the Duke sent 1,000 gallons of it to the Army fighting in the Crimea.
The lake at Welbeck is three miles long, and its waters are supplied from an irrigation system at Clipstone, costing the fourth Duke 80,000l. to carry out, draining a tract of marshy land and making it one of the most fertile districts in England. After supplying the lake at Welbeck the stream flows to that at Clumber.
It was estimated that between two and three millions sterling were spent by the Duke in putting his ideas into execution, and the one beneficent effect of his expenditure was the employment of a large number of men in work that was not altogether of a useless nature, as witness his great improvements in agriculture, following up his father's ideas, adding to the national wealth by the crops this hitherto uncultivated area was made to produce.
After his long and chequered career the Duke passed away in December, 1879, having nearly reached eighty years of age. Peace be to his ashes.
CHAPTER VIII
THE PRESENT DUKE AND DUCHESS.—A ROMANTIC ATTACHMENT
There must have been a thrilling sensation of delight at the good fortune that had overtaken him when the present Duke found himself in possession of the family honours and estates. There had been so many vicissitudes in the Dukedom that any chance survival might have stepped in to bar his claim. "There's many a slip between the cup and the lip" is an old saying, and many a relation of a great noble is near the succession of his honours, only to see them pass to some other branch where least expected.
The present Duke, or to give him his full family name, William John Arthur Charles James Cavendish-Bentinck, was a long way off the fifth Duke, in the table of consanguinity, he had no trace of the Scott blood in him, and was in fact only second cousin of his eccentric predecessor in the title.
His father was Lieutenant-General A.C. Cavendish-Bentinck, whose descent was through the third Duke, so that the two branches had to go back nearly a hundred years to find a common ancestor. His birth took place on December 28th, 1857, and it must have seemed then a remote possibility that in less than five and twenty years he would succeed to one of the proudest Dukedoms in the land, with the opportunities of a royal alliance.
Two of the Duke's half-brothers were engaged in the South African war; Lord Charles Bentinck was a Lieutenant in the 9th Lancers and was slightly wounded in the siege of Mafeking; for his services he won a medal and a brevet-majority. He was born in 1868 and was educated at Eton; he married in 1897 a daughter of Mr. Charles Seymour Grenfell of Taplow. In the East Midlands he has won considerable popularity as Master of the Blankney Hunt.
Lord William Bentinck was a Captain in the 10th Hussars and showed his ardour in the war by endeavouring to form a body of Colonial Mounted Rifles.
Among the eccentricities laid to the charge of the old Duke it was said that on his young heir going to visit him on one occasion at Welbeck, he ordered him to stand in a corner of the room.
When in 1879 the old Duke passed away from his world of mysteries and escapades, the heir was a Lieutenant in the Coldstream Guards. He was not long in the Army, and when he came into the title there were too many other engagements for him to attend to without troubling himself as to the routine of military duty, though he kept up a connection with the forces by becoming Lieutenant-Colonel of the Honourable Artillery Company of London, Honorary Colonel of the 1st Lanarkshire Volunteer Artillery, and of the 4th Battalion Sherwood Foresters Regiment.
Welbeck soon began to assume a new aspect under his regime. Gradually it lost its appearance of a contractor's yard and looked like one of the stately homes of England.
Looking back to the time when he first came into his noble heritage, the Duke made a touching reference at the Welbeck Tenants' Show, in 1906, to the death of his agent, Mr. F.J. Turner, who for 48 years was in the service of the fifth Duke and himself.
"When I first came to Welbeck, now twenty-seven years ago," said the Duke, "I was a mere boy, very ignorant of the ways of the world, and more ignorant still, if it were possible, of business habits and of the management of a great estate. I shudder to think what might have been my fate, and the sad fate of those dependent upon me, if Mr. Turner and others, who guided my footsteps, had been different from what they proved themselves to be. It was in his power to make or mar the happiness and prosperity, not only of myself, but also of many of those who live in this district and who farm my land."
The Duke followed the traditions of his family and commenced to form an expensive racing stud.
In 1882 his attention was concentrated to a considerable degree upon this object. He bought the famous sire, St. Simon, at the sale of the late Prince Batthyany's horses. St. Simon could not compete in the classic races in consequence of the death of his owner, and all through his racing career he was not put to any severe test of speed, or most likely his name would have represented the double achievement of being a famous racer, and the sire of famous racers too. He was bought for 1,600l., the purchase being effected on the recommendation of Mat Dawson, the trainer, and the horse was then a two-year-old. That he could go at a terrific pace is proved by an observation made one day by Fred Archer to the trainer. St. Simon was at exercise when Archer's spur touched him, unintentionally by the jockey. He bounded into a gallop—a state of action rarely seen before—and Archer subsequently said that he had never been whizzed through the air at such a terrific pace. In the very pink of condition, fresh and strong, the Duke had to congratulate himself on securing his bargain, for he was sent from the course to the stud, with the result that the magnificent total of 246,000l. was won by his progeny in stakes alone.
At length, in 1888, the Duke reached the goal of his ambition in his career on the turf, for he was the winner of the Derby with Ayrshire, which also won the Two Thousand Guineas. Then he followed up his success next year by winning the Derby again with Donovan, a horse that also won the St. Leger.
The names of the mares finding their habitation at Woodhouse Hall, about a mile and a quarter from Welbeck Abbey, are identified with some of the most remarkable successes of the turf. Here is a string of animals through the veins of which ran purest blood. Amoena, Atalanta, Battlewings, Danceaway, Golden Eye, Lady Mar, Larissa, Marquesa, Mowerina, Modwena, Miss Middlewick, Shaker, Semolina, Staffa, Wheel of Fortune, Tact, Ulster Queen, and many besides. The Goddess of Fortune beamed on his Grace's colours whenever they appeared in the great races. The long series of victories resulted in immense winnings. For instance, Modwena was credited with 5,884l.; Ayrshire, 35,915l.; Johnny Morgan, 4,067l.; Donovan, 55,154l.; Semolina, 12,686l.; Miss Butterwick, 8,179l.; Raeburn, 8,374l.; The Prize, 3,134l.; St. Serf, 5,809l.; Memoir, 17,300l.; Schoolbrook, 2,705l.; Amiable, 10,582l.; Other celebrated stock also bred by the Duke included Anna, Charm, Catcher Clatterfeet, Elsie, Eisteddfod, Galston, Katherine II., Little Go, Oyster, Rattleheels, St. Bridget, Simony II., The Task, The Owl, The Smew, Troon, Ulva, and many more. Major Loder's Spearmint was the winner of the Derby in 1906, and it was a bay colt by Carbine—Maid of the Mint, so that a horse owned by the Duke was again associated with the blue ribbon, Carbine having been imported from Australia by his Grace some years before. Carbine had another name, "Old Jack," given him because of his laziness, and a whip-stock, had to be used occasionally to keep him up to the mark. An Australian picture of the horse was painted by Mr. W. Scott, and after being in the possession of Mr. Herbert Garratt for some years was sent to his Grace with a request that he would accept it, which he did.
All the time that the Duke was paying so much attention to horse-racing it was being asked in Nottinghamshire whether Welbeck was ever to see another Duchess of Portland. The palace of the magician in the heart of Sherwood Forest had not had a mistress for forty years, and the gossips were not diffident in expressing their opinion that it was time the splendour of its hospitality was graced by the presence of a Duchess.
The Duke was thirty-two years of age in 1889, and his name had been coupled with that of a royal princess; but whatever foundation there may have been for the rumour that he was going to marry into the royal family, it was seen eventually that he was determined to wed for love and not for pride of place.
Of the rich and well-born heiresses tracing their lineage through generation after generation of English chivalry, and who would have deemed it the prize of a lifetime to become Duchess of Portland, the Duke's choice fell upon a young lady whose name was unknown to the denizens of Nottinghamshire. She was Winifred, only daughter of Thomas Dallas-Yorke, Esq., of Walmsgate, Louth, and came of an old Lincolnshire family.
She was a merry girl as she used to ride her pony in the Lincolnshire lanes, indeed, she was regarded as somewhat of a tomboy, but a year or two passed away, and she surprised those who had known her in girlhood, to see her the most fashionable beauty in the Row.
She had a wondrous type of beauty too, that made all those who admired its style, fall beneath her spell, her complexion was delicate, yet with the glow of health upon it, her teeth were pearly, her eyes full of sweet reasonableness, her nose that of the classic heroines of Greece, and her willowy form such as Sir Joshua Reynolds would have delighted to paint in a portrait, that would have been one more justification of the poetical phrase, "Art is long and life is fleeting."
Her lithe and graceful figure, nearly six feet in height, with a face pleasing and mobile, and a voice that charmed in its tone, made her distinguished in any society where she appeared.
The story is that once when staying with some friends at Brighton she went to the Devil's Dyke, a romantic place visited by almost every tourist and resident in that neighbourhood. There she was prevailed upon to consult a gipsy as to her future, and the fortune-teller prophesied truth, for the oracular words came forth:—
"You will carry off the greatest matrimonial prize in all England," the gipsy said, as she went through the palmistry study of Miss Dallas-Yorke's shapely hand; "but shortly after your marriage there's trouble of some sort, for the lines become cloudy. I know what it will be, young lady; a terrible illness must attack you, yet take courage and have no fear, my dear, for all will turn out well in the end."
The sequel to the story is that after the happy event of the marriage the gipsy had a black gown and a purse of money presented to her by the Duchess as a compliment to her sagacity as a prophetess.
The latter part of the prediction was fulfilled also, for soon after her marriage the Duchess was attacked by typhoid fever at Welbeck, and her life hung in the balance for a short time during her illness. Happily she recovered to take her place in Society, as graceful and winsome as ever.
She had been out, in the Society sense of the term, several seasons before she became acquainted with the Duke. How the meeting came about is thus related:—
She was on a visit during the autumn of 1888 to a country house In Scotland, and while waiting with her maid on the platform of Carlisle station, she was noticed by the Duke, who was also northward bound for sport on the moors.
The Duke was waiting on the platform too, and was attracted by the perfection of her appearance, her lofty carriage and the expression of the true gentlewoman on her countenance.
A few weeks afterwards an introduction took place at the house of a friend, when they spoke of their recollection of having seen each other on the platform of the railway station.
Although the Duke must have known that he was the most coveted matrimonial prize in England at that time, yet it is said he was shy at proposing to this magnificent daughter of a Lincolnshire squire.
He must have done, however, for in a few months the marriage was celebrated.
Soon after the engagement the Duke bought a sable cloak of immense value for his fiancée; but Mrs. Dallas-Yorke protested against the gift and said that her daughter had not been accustomed to such costly attire.
What was the Duke's observation upon this has not passed current; suffice it to say that the priceless cloak was received and worn by Miss Dallas-Yorke, who in Society was chaperoned by the Marchioness of Granby, now Duchess of Rutland.
Such a fluttering among Society dove-cotes was seldom seen, and sound of wedding-bells rarely heard with such gleeful joy. It was a love-match, and, therefore, a popular event all over the land. Only a few weeks before, the Duke's horse had won the Derby, and the ovation given him by the racing fraternity was unprecedented to any one, peer or commoner, below royal rank.
Then the bride was so full of smiles to all who had the privilege of offering her congratulations.
The Duke had earned the reputation of being a "good fellow," a phrase carrying its own meaning in relation to a typical English nobleman. At the zenith of his popularity there is no wonder that crowds lined the streets on the wedding morning to catch a glimpse of the happy pair as they drove back from Church. The Prince and Princess of Wales honoured the ceremony with their presence, and such cheering there was as the faces of the bride and bridegroom were seen at the windows of the carriage. It was a smart equipage, and even the coachmen and footmen were decorated with horse-shoes of flowers on their coats.
Then there were the rejoicings at Welbeck, where the new Duchess soon ingratiated herself with the tenantry. "The Good Duchess" was smiling and approachable, and quickly found her way to the heart of the most churlish country herdsman.
It was apparent that the Duchess's mind was not solely occupied with plans for reigning in London Society and dictating the fashions for a select and fastidious circle. She knew her powers in that respect; she had already conquered and was content to please the Duke, and fulfil the duties of her station towards those who were her equals, and towards the Duke's retainers on his estates and their dependants.
Not that she ceased to dazzle with the radiant splendour of her jewels, which adorned her natural gracefulness.
Her coronet of diamonds contains in it a lustrous gem, called the Portland stone, worth 10,000l., and her jewels altogether are of fabulous value. Nothwithstanding the changing fashions of High Society, she retains her preference for a Medici collar of lace and a spray of Malmaison carnations.
With the immense sums of money the Duke had won over the Derby victories he was desirous of adding new treasures to his wife's jewel-case; but she prevailed upon him to build some almshouses for poor old women at Welbeck; moreover she is credited with having influenced him to moderate his indulgence in racing.
The almshouses, which were called "The Winnings," have upon them the following inscription: "These houses were erected by the sixth Duke of Portland at the request of his wife, for the benefit of the poor and to commemorate the the success of his race-horses." They were not built out of money made by betting, a habit not encouraged by the Duke.
At a later period, addressing a meeting of young men, he said: "Turn a cold shoulder to the bookmaker and those who would advise you to throw your money into the lap of fickle Fortune If you want to be happy. You might just as well throw the money into a pond."
The Duchess always has a happy way of opening a Bazaar for some philanthropic object, and her radiant and affable manner charm those with whom she is brought into contact, perhaps for the first time. She is a supporter of the Church Army Training Homes, Bryanston-street, and she has had the courage to preside over a temperance demonstration in Hyde Park. Swimming has become a fashionable accomplishment with Society ladies, and she has shown her interest in extending the cultivation of that exercise. This is only to mention but a few of the objects that claim her time and attention, and no lady of high position is more ready to aid a worthy charity where possible.
The first child that came to the Duke and Duchess was Lady Victoria Alexandrina Violet, born in 1890. She was highly honoured at her christening, for Queen Victoria acted as sponsor person, and held the baby in her arms. There is at Welbeck an autograph letter from the Queen, congratulating the parents on their firstborn. The next was the heir to the Dukedom, William Arthur Henry, Marquis of Titchfield, born March 16th, 1893, and the third Lord Francis Norwen Dallas, born in 1900.
The Duke was Master of the Horse from 1886 to 1892, and from 1895 to 1905; and the Duchess acted as Mistress of the Robes for a short time in 1905, she was also one of the "Canopy Duchesses" at the Coronation.
The Duke's estates in Scotland include Langwell Lodge, which the family has frequently visited for deer-stalking and grouse-shooting in the autumn. Then there is Cessnock Castle, near Galston, Ayrshire, where the Duke and Duchess had not stayed for many years till 1906. A considerable part of the fifth Duke's Ayrshire estates, including the Kilmarnock property, passed at his death to his sister, Lady Ossington, and at her death to another sister, Lady Howard de Walden, and thence to Lord Howard de Walden. The Duke has extensive shootings at Fullarton, near Troon, and Fullarton House was for some time the residence of Louis Philippe of France.
The house of Langwell is situated on a beautiful grassy slope, with the sea in front, while in the background are the silver-clad Scarabines, rising with imposing grandeur. The Langdale and Berriedale rivers here join and flow into the sea, and there are picturesque gorges, with cave-dwellings and ancient ruins having historic associations. Frowning cliffs rise precipitously from the waves, and weird caves, only to be entered when the tide is low, add to the romantic character of the scenery.
In the neighbourhood of this favourite shooting lodge are some steep and dangerous hills which presented great difficulties to the horses when taking his Grace's guests to and fro to enjoy their sport. But having become a votary of the motorcar, these stiff hills have been surmounted with ease by the four or five vehicles which the Duke has acquired for sporting purposes. Helmsdale is the nearest railway station to Langwell, and the road over the Ord of Caithness includes several hills with rough and loose surfaces, and gradients ranging from 1 in 2 to 1 in 16, so that the journey is not without its stress both for horses and motorcars. John o' Groat's is forty-five miles distant, but this, as well as other places of interest in the neighbourhood, is within visiting range by the cars, though such long distances were not attempted with the equine species.
To capture the Master of the Horse as an automobilist was a great achievement for enthusiasts in the advocacy of the new mode of travelling. The Duke of Portland has been such a devotee to the horse, as were his ancestors centuries before him, that it was not to be expected all at once, that he would, give his countenance to any new invention likely to supplant the noble animal in its position as the servant and friend of man. Having been a cyclist, when that hobby seized the fancy of the fashionable world, it was not a long step to automobilism, and having proved the superiority of the motor vehicle, the Duke gave orders for some of the best types of cars to be supplied to him. One of the most luxurious is a Limousine de Deitrich, and his interest in the new art of locomotion is such that he has had a perfect track prepared at Clipstone, called "The flying kilometre."
In 1907 the Duke became a member of the Royal Automobile Club and submitted all his drivers for examination for the certificate. The test took place at Welbeck, when there were shown several technical drawings executed by the candidates, who all passed with merit and received their certificates.
The Duchess on one occasion made some observations in public on motors, and expressed a doubt as to whether any of her friends would forsake the horse in favour of mechanical locomotion. That time, however, came about, and now the Duchess is claimed as a patroness of the car, which if prosy, compared with the delights of horsemanship, is, nevertheless, useful for accomplishing distances which horses are not expected to cover.
In a speech in the House of Lords, the Duke said he considered the advent of the motorcar could not but have a weakening influence on the horse-breeding industry, and before very long several of the functions which horses at present perform, both in the towns and country districts, would be carried out by mechanical means. His object in making these remarks was to call attention to what was impending in order that some steps might be taken to foster the horse-breeding industry.
As far as a continuance of interest in race-horses is concerned, the Duke had at the commencement of the season 1906 twenty-one horses in training with W. Waugh at Kingsclere, including thirteen two-year-olds.
Both King Edward and the Queen have been entertained at Welbeck since their accession to the throne, and in 1906 there was a visit from the Duke and Duchess of Sparta, the Crown Prince and Princess of Greece.
The Duke's sentiments on "patriotism" may be gathered from some remarks he made when opening a miniature rifle range constructed at the Nottingham High School. He referred with approbation to the work of Mr. Robins, Premier of Manitoba, through whose policy the Union Jack was unfurled from the roof of every school in the province: "The man who objects to perpetuating the glories of the flag, who declines to have his children infused with British patriotism is undesirable." "These words," said the Duke, "apply to the anti-patriot, the pro-Zulu, the pro-Boer, the inciter to rebellion in Egypt, and to the stirrer-up of strife in India. I do not see why rifle-shooting should not become a popular national sport, equal in prestige to games like cricket and football."
CHAPTER IX
THE DUKE AND DUCHESS AT HOME.—THE DUCHESS AS PRINCESS BOUNTIFUL.—THE DUCHESS AT COURT
Christmas is usually spent by the Duke and Duchess at Welbeck, and one of the events of the season is the Household Ball to celebrate the Duke's birthday, which falls on December 28th. It is held in the vast underground picture-gallery, with the subjects of the old painters looking down from their canvases upon the gay dancers.
Choice exotics, stately palms and seasonable shrubs add to the variety of the decorations. The band is almost hidden in a bower of foliage in the centre of the great saloon, and there are 500 guests of all ranks of society from peers and peeresses to the humblest domestic servant.
About ten o'olock the Duke and Duchess appear with their house party, and dancing commences with a Circassion Circle. The Duke has the housekeeper for partner and the Duchess the house-steward, while the aristocratic guests find partners among other chiefs of departments in the Welbeck household.
With midnight comes supper, served in two adjacent underground rooms, that owe their excavation to the grim hobby of the old Duke. All the festive party sit down to supper at the same time, the Duke's French chef providing the menu. The house-steward presides and proposes the health of the ducal family. This is welcomed in the manner it deserves and then dancing is resumed in the picture-gallery.
On another evening the children on the Welbeck estate are invited to a party when the head of a giant Christmas-tree is reared in the centre of the ball-room, laden with toys for distribution to them, and the pleasures of the entertainment are varied with the tricks of a conjurer and ventriloquist. Thus is afforded a glimpse of the happy relations existing between the Portland family and their retainers.
In the neighbourhood of Sutton-in-Ashfield, Cresswell, and the mining district between Mansfield and Worksop the Duchess is regarded as a Princess Bountiful in reality, rather than a creation of fairyland. Her visits to some of the homes of the miners are generally unexpected; for instance one Monday morning in the late autumn she rode up to the unpretending dwelling of a collier to enquire about "an old friend," as she called him, who had worked in Cresswell pits. A few years before he had met with an accident and injured his spine. The occurrence came to the ears of her Grace, who arranged for the patient to visit London to undergo an operation, which he did, with favourable results. A bath-chair was obtained for him and since then she had evinced sympathetic interest in his condition.
As may well be imagined appeals to the Duchess's sympathies are made from all quarters. One day she is taking the chair at the annual meeting of the Children's Hospital at Nottingham. On another day the Nottingham Samaritan Hospital for Women is having her support in the opening of a bazaar in its aid.
Not only suffering humanity, but suffering brute creation has found in her a sympathetic chord. The Bev. H. Russell, who is well known in the county for his efforts on behalf of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, told two interesting stories of her Grace in her presence at the opening of the bazaar.
A show of cab-horses and costermongers' donkeys was being held in Nottingham, when Mr. Russell called the attention of the Duchess to an old rag-and-bone dealer, who had won no prize, but who was known to treat his donkey humanely.
"What shall I give him?" asked the Duchess.
"Half a sovereign will be enough, I should think," replied the clergyman.
She then handed the money to the man, but she had to borrow it though, "and," added Mr. Russell, "I do not know whether she ever paid it back but the result was the same."
When in Scotland once she found that a man with a cart-load of herrings had been using a piece of barbed wire to flog his horse with.
He was taxed with the barbarity, but denied it.
The Duchess thereupon walked back and found the wire. She and the Duke then bought up the horse, cart, harness, and herrings, rejecting the only worthless part of the lot—the man.
Sandy's greed and Sandy's conscience were most likely on a par in their flinty qualities, and the dour Scot would be glad to bargain with the Duchess again on similar terms, eliminating the factor of humanitarianism.
On another occasion she is presiding at the annual meeting of the local branch of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals at Grantham. "Such meetings as these," she told her audience, "are valuable because they call attention to the cruelty which exists in such forms as the decrepit horse traffic, of which the general public has little or no knowledge. To be ignorant may save trouble; but if it makes us indifferent and lethargic with regard to suffering, when we ought to be helpers in the cause of humanity, the sooner we increase our knowledge the better we shall be able to stop this great evil and rouse public opinion on the valuable work done by the officers of the Society."
Again she is a visitor at Mansfield to distribute the prizes in connection with singing, needlework, and other competitions organized by the girls' clubs in the district. She spoke of these competitions as promoting a healthy spirit of rivalry, and promised to give a silver shield for proficiency in physical drill among girls.
Her catholic spirit was evinced on her attendance one day early in February, 1907, at the Mikado Café, Nottingham, when the members of a Sunday afternoon Wesleyan Bible Class, numbering ninety men, assembled for dinner. She expressed her interest in the aims of the Bible Class and in all efforts for the encouragement of right living. A bouquet was presented to her from the members.
The Duchess as a flower-seller was a delightful attraction at a Church bazaar at Sutton-in-Ashfield, a town where there is considerable ducal property. In a graceful little speech declaring the bazaar open she said: "I know you are all tired of bazaars and desirous of adopting some better method of collecting money, if such could be devised, but until some brilliant or practical mind finds such a way, you are forced to move in the old groove and repeat the same efforts."
The story of borrowing half a sovereign is not the only well-authenticated instance of her Grace having to negotiate a loan in consequence of her liberal instincts having prompted her to outrun the resources of her pocket.
After opening a bazaar for the Newark Hospital she passed round the stalls and made purchases freely, so that by the time she had made the round she had completely exhausted her purse. It was necessary that she should have enough to pay her railway fare to London, whither she wished to travel, and the honour of tending her the amount she wanted, fell to one of the stewards. The loan, I believe, was promptly repaid.
A Court of exceptional, splendour was held by the King and Queen at Buckingham Palace in May, 1905, and as the then Mistress of the Robes, the Duchess of Buccleugh, was unable to attend through being in mourning, her place was taken by the Duchess of Portland, none eclipsing her in that brilliant throng of English nobility. She wore a gown of ivory velvet, brocaded round the skirt with bouquets of flowers and trimmed with Italian lace and cream chiffon; the train of superb Brussels lace belonged to Marie Antoinette. Her jewels were diamonds, pearls and emeralds.
A brilliant Chapter of the Garter was held in November, 1906, and was followed by a banquet. The regal appearance of the Duchess may be gathered from a description of her dress of cloudy white, embroidered with mother-of-pearl, a high diamond tiara on her dark hair and a magnificent bouquet of flowers, surrounded with a wealth of glittering diamonds on her corsage.
Miss May Cavendish-Bentinck was married to Mr. John Ford on November 3rd, 1906, when Lady Victoria Cavendish-Bentinck made her appearance for the first time as a bridesmaid. Mr. Ford was secretary of the British Legation at Copenhagen and the bride was one of the Duke's cousins. Lady Victoria Cavendish-Bentinck, the Duke's only daughter, will probably be presented at Court next season.