Chapter VII: Part 7

Of Lord Strafford’s second and best loved wife, Radcliffe writes: ‘She was a lady exceeding comely and beautiful, and yet more lovely in the endowments of her mind.’

There was a mystery attending his third marriage, (which was clandestine,) with Elizabeth, daughter to Sir Godfrey Rhodes. They parted almost immediately after the ceremony, and he was some time before he would acknowledge her openly. Their correspondence was singular, in one letter he promises to be a good husband; in another, he reminds her that she is the successor of two of the noblest ladies of the time. Laud, in writing his congratulations, is rather jocose on the subject, but it does not quite appear whether the doubt existed as to the lady’s character, or to the fitness of her birth and breeding. Her husband’s letters to her during his trial are couched in affectionate terms. She bore him several children, one of whom alone survived him.

Of his connection with that beautiful schemer, Lady Carlisle, the ‘Erinnys of politics’ (born Percy), there can be no doubt, and the undue influence she exercised over him,—she who (says Sir Philip Warwick) changed her gallant from Strafford to Pym, going over to his deadly enemy.

But there were many other names coupled with his, apparently without any reason, save the love of slander.

--------------

No. 99.

CHARLES THE FIRST, KING OF ENGLAND.

After Vandyck.

BORN 1600, SUCCEEDED 1625, EXECUTED 1649.

_Robes, Collar and Order of the Garter._

THE second son of James the First by Anne of Denmark. Married Henrietta Maria of France. Dethroned and beheaded by his subjects.

--------------

No. 100.

THREE CHILDREN OF CHARLES THE FIRST.

AFTER VANDYCK.

CHARLES, PRINCE OF WALES, AFTERWARDS KING.

_Light dress. Lace collar._

JAMES DUKE OF YORK, AFTERWARDS KING.

_White frock. Lace cap._

PRINCESS ROYAL, WIFE TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE,
AND MOTHER TO WILLIAM THE THIRD.

_Two dogs beside the children._

--------------

No. 101.

HENRIETTA MARIA, QUEEN OF ENGLAND.

AFTER VANDYCK.

BORN 1607, DIED 1669.

_Blue dress, with flowers in her lap._

DAUGHTER of Henry IV., King of France, by Marie de Medicis, and wife of Charles the First, King of England.

--------------

No. 102.

WILLIAM, SECOND DUKE OF HAMILTON.

AFTER VANDYCK.

BORN 1616, DIED 1651.

_Mantle, Ribbon, and Star of Garter._

SECOND son of James, second Marquis of Hamilton, by Anne, daughter of James Conyngham, seventh Earl of Glencairn. Educated at the University of Glasgow, and afterwards travelled in foreign countries. His brother, who was ten years his senior, was the friend and companion of King Charles I., who raised him to a Dukedom. William, in returning home after his tour, reckoned on his brother’s influence for promotion at Court, and applied for the post of Master of the Horse to the Queen. The refusal he met with, although founded on the plea of a previous promise to another, so angered young Hamilton that he announced his intention of going back to France, and it was with difficulty he was dissuaded from so doing by prospects of speedy advancement. He had not long to wait. In 1639 he was created Baron Polmont and Machanshire, and Earl of Arran and Lanark, and the following year Secretary of State for Scotland, honours which must surely have satisfied this ardent and ambitious spirit, although Scotland was at that moment in such a state of fermentation that the direction of her affairs was far too arduous for a young man totally unacquainted with public business. Lord Lanark therefore looked to his brother as a man of ability and experience for advice and guidance. The mother of the two Hamiltons, a determined and energetic woman, had early instilled into the mind of her first-born the religious tenets in which she had been educated by her father, a staunch Covenanter; and the elder had no difficulty in imparting his views to the younger brother, and the two young men conceived, says Lodge, ‘the impracticable scheme of uniting and reconciling the actual monarchy with a Calvinistic Church.’

For two years Lord Lanark strove, on the one hand, to persuade the King to make all manner of humiliating concessions to the Covenanters, while on the other he used fruitless endeavours to stem the tide of the rebellious outbreak; and naturally he was unsuccessful in both instances. Charles’s partiality for the house of Hamilton was no help to him in his troubles north of the Tweed. In 1642, the Scotch having called a Parliament without the royal sanction, the King wrote,—‘If, notwithstanding our refusal, and the endeavours of our well affected subjects and servants to hinder it, there shall be a Convention of the Estates, we wish all those who are right affected to us should be present at it, but do nothing but only protest against their meeting and actions.’ The Hamiltons accordingly took their seats, but were silent members on most occasions. Their conduct in several instances was most inconsistent, and when the Scotch Parliament, following the example of their English brethren, levied troops in the King’s name to make war on Charles himself, Lanark actually affixed the royal signet to the proclamation for the levy!

Such behaviour naturally incensed all true-hearted Royalists, and the Duke of Montrose especially was so disgusted that he hastened to Oxford, where the Court then was, to denounce the brothers. They on their part, discovering his intention, thought it wisest to follow him, but were arrested and imprisoned on their arrival. Lanark soon found means to escape to London, and afterwards to Scotland, where he recommenced his temporising policy, professing all the while deep attachment to the King, which did not prevent his joining the Covenanters against the Duke of Montrose. So contradictory a proceeding led to the rumour that he acted in obedience to secret orders from the King himself, who soon afterwards received him back into favour, and reinstated him in the Secretaryship of which he had been deprived. Charles’s conduct with regard to the Duke was inexplicable, for when that nobleman, who had been for some time a prisoner in Pendennis Castle, Cornwall, (whence he was released by the chances of war,) joined the King at Newcastle, he was received without the slightest signs of anger. Neither did Charles resent the manner in which Lanark endeavoured to enforce the bitter terms proposed by the Scottish Parliament, although he resolutely refused to submit to such conditions. This was in 1646, when the idea was entertained of delivering up the person of the King to the English Commissioner. Lanark, however, was roused on this occasion, and exclaimed indignantly, ‘As God shall have mercy on my soul at the great day, I would choose rather to have my head struck off at the Market Cross of Edinburgh than give my consent to this vote.’ He was now in constant attendance on the King, who treated him with great confidence. The Duke of Hamilton placed himself at the head of an army of Scottish Royalists, and made an irruption into England, but was defeated by Cromwell’s forces and taken prisoner. His trial and execution followed shortly after that of the King himself; and about the same time, Lanark, being deprived of his public offices and proscribed by the Government, fled to Holland.

It was not, indeed, till his arrival in that country, Clarendon says, ‘that he knew he was Duke Hamilton by the slaughter of his brother;’ Charles II. received the new Duke with affection and sympathy. Lanark had loved his brother with a blind affection, which led to his following him on many occasions against his own views.

He said his condition had been very hard, for having been bred up in the Church of England, for which he had a great reverence, he had been forced to comply with the Covenant, which he perfectly detested. Charles gave him the Garter, and took him in his suite to Scotland, where, not being permitted to enter the capital, he retired to the isle of Arran, whence he was recalled by the King’s orders.

At the commencement of the ensuing year he raised a body of men for His Majesty’s service, and distinguished himself at their head against the English Roundheads in Scotland, and was appointed Lieutenant-General of the Scotch army under orders to cross the Border. Hamilton’s inclination was to march on London, but his wishes were overruled by the King. Cromwell came up with the Royalist troops, and gave them battle at Worcester—a sad day for England’s nobles, when so many fell. Bishop Burnet tells us how devoutly and piously the Duke passed the vigil of his last battle. Stationed at his post at an early hour, he saw with dismay (shortly after the commencement of the action) his own regiment in retreat, and rashly galloped forward to rally the fugitives. A shot in the leg shattered the bone, and the brave General fell into the hands of his enemies. But the wound (though it proved mortal) saved him from the fate that had attended his brother. He only survived eight days, the surgeons quarrelling all the time over the question of amputation. There is a tradition in Worcester that the body of the Duke was buried provisionally, under the hearthstone, in the room of a hospital, (now a Blind School,) called the Commandery, before it was transferred to the Cathedral. Lord Clarendon says of Duke William: ‘He was much to be preferred to his brother, a wiser, but less cunning man, an accomplished person; and though he had been led into some unwarrantable actions, it was evident it was not through his own inclination. In his death he showed a great cheerfulness, that he had the honour to die for the King, and thereby wipe out the memory of his former transgressions, which was odious to himself.’ Burnet says from a child he could never on any temptation be made to lie.

His faults seem to have been greatly owing to a blind adherence to the proceedings and opinions of his brother. The Bishop describes William Duke of Hamilton ‘as of middle stature, complexion black, but very agreeable, and his whole mien noble and sprightful.’ He married in 1638 Lady Elizabeth Maxwell, eldest daughter and co-heir of James Earl of Dirleton, in Scotland, and by her had one son who died an infant, and five daughters.

--------------

No. 103.

MARTIN LUTHER.

BORN 1483, DIED 1546.

_Black gown and cap._

THE biography of ‘the day-star of the Reformation’ belongs to the history of the world, and we have no space for a notice of the principal events of his life. He was the son of a miner, originally intended for the study of civil law, but being struck by lightning, his mind took a strong religious turn, and he eventually became a priest. It is well known how his indignation was aroused by the sale of indulgences, and other abuses of the Church of Rome, and with what indomitable courage and energy he upheld and promulgated his opinions, enduring persecution, danger, and imprisonment for conscience’ sake. He married Catherine von Bora, who had been a nun, a step which gave great offence in many quarters.

He is one of those men whose name is a history in itself.

--------------

No. 104.

CHARLES PRINCE OF WALES, AFTERWARDS
KING CHARLES THE FIRST.

AFTER VANDYCK.

_Full length. In armour. Red and gold trunks. Riding boots, one top
turned down to show the Garter. Helmet on the ground._

--------------

No. 105.

HENRY THE FOURTH, KING OF NAVARRE, AND
OF FRANCE.

BORN 1553, MURDERED 1610.

_Full length. In armour, with a white scarf, blue ribbon, and Order.
Boots and spurs. Helmet on the ground._

HE was the son of Anthony de Bourbon and Jeanne d’Albret, Queen of Navarre. Brought up by his mother in the strictest principles of the Protestant faith, whose champion he became, defending it by speech and sword. He was heir to the throne of France, as well as Navarre, in right of descent from Louis IX., called St. Louis. On the death of Henry III. he succeeded him as King, and it was then he embraced the Roman Catholic faith, although he watched over the interests of his former friends as far as was consistent with the policy of his government.

The Edict of Nantes in 1595 was most advantageous to the Huguenots. Henry was for some time involved in foreign warfare, but peace was at length established. Though having at heart the improvement and the well-being of his subjects of all conditions, yet parties ran so high that his life was constantly attempted. It was reserved for the hand of a fanatic, one Ravaillac, (a monk, whose ill conduct had caused him to be expelled from his convent,) to terminate the valuable life of this great and noble Prince. He was twice married, first to Margaret de Valois, sister to Charles IX., the King and Queen-Mother having elected to make the terrible massacre of St. Bartholomew one of the features of rejoicing for these ill-starred nuptials. From her he was divorced, and married as his second wife Marie de Medicis.

--------------

No. 106.

EDWARD STAFFORD, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

AFTER HOLBEIN.

EXECUTED 1521.

_Brown vest, blue sleeves. Red mantle with fur. Black cap, and jewel._

HIS father, Henry Duke of Buckingham, was executed in the reign of Richard III., but the titles and estates were restored to his son. Edward accompanied Henry VIII. to France when he went to meet the French King. He was a great favourite with his Sovereign, which caused him to be an object of jealousy at Court, and his downfall was planned by influential foes, amongst whom Wolsey was accounted the chief. Buckingham was the last to occupy the post of Lord High Constable of England, an office of great power and emolument. Accused of high treason, his enemies went so far as to say he aspired to the Crown, it having been prophesied by one Hopkins, a monk, that King Henry would die without male issue. The Duke was found guilty on very insufficient evidence, and beheaded on Tower Hill. His name and memory are endeared to us, through the inspired pages of Shakespeare—the eloquent description of his character given by the King himself, even while he promised him no mercy, and the appeal of Queen Katherine, pathetic, but unavailing, ‘that the Lord Cardinal should deliver all his evidence in charity.’

--------------

No. 107.

HENEAGE FINCH, EARL OF NOTTINGHAM.

BY SIR PETER LELY.

BORN 1621, DIED 1682.

_Robes and badges of office._

SIR Thomas Finch, Privy Councillor to Queen Elizabeth, holding many lucrative offices under the Crown, had an only daughter, Elizabeth, by his wife, the daughter of Sir Nicholas Poyntz, of Acton Poyntz, county Gloucester. Sir Thomas left his heiress a very large fortune, and she married Sir Moyle Finch, and was the grandmother of the first Earl of Nottingham of that name. Sir Moyle died in 1614, and his widow was created Viscountess Maidstone in 1623, and in 1628 further advanced to the grade of Countess of Winchilsea. Her fourth son, Heneage, was a celebrated lawyer, Speaker of the House of Commons, and the friend of Bacon. He married the daughter of Sir Edmond Bell of Beaupré, county Suffolk, and their eldest child was the subject of this memoir.

He was born at his father’s beautiful estate of Eastwell in Kent, but passed most of his youth at Kensington, which property, it may here be observed, was purchased by William III. of Finch’s grandson, and has remained in possession of the Crown ever since.

Heneage received a good education at Westminster and Oxford, and went to Christ Church in 1645, where he was steady and studious; but the sudden death of his father, from whom he inherited a large fortune, called him away from the University before he had taken his degree. Rich as he was, it did not suit the young man’s taste to remain without a profession; and he began to study law in the Inner Temple, where he soon gained a name for fluency of speech and readiness of reply, and was called to the bar before the usual time in consideration of his proficiency.

During the Protectorate Finch contented himself with an extensive private practice, and having married Elizabeth Harvey, daughter of a London merchant, lived a happy domestic life with his ‘pretty and dearly-loved wife.’ He came of too loyal a family, and shared their opinions too truly, to be popular with the powers that then were, or to seek their favour.

His kinsman, Sir John Finch, (Speaker of the House of Commons,) had made himself so obnoxious to the Government that he had found it advisable to fly the country, while another cousin was in actual attendance on the King’s person.

At the time of the Restoration, Heneage Finch contrived to ingratiate himself with His Majesty by getting up a memorial, signed by the principal inhabitants of his county, to show forth that none of ‘the men of Kent’ had had any participation in the ‘murder of Charles the Martyr.’ At all events, it was not long after his Restoration that the King summoned him from his retreat, named him Solicitor-General, and gave him a Baronetcy. In return for these honours perhaps it might have been that Sir Heneage pursued the prosecution of the regicides with great violence, and would willingly have brought John Milton to condign punishment on account of his political tendencies.

He served in several Parliaments for Canterbury, Oxford, etc., but never gave up his profession, and as a true Templar he acquired great ‘_kudos_’ (in 1601) by an eloquent course of lectures, which he delivered, in his capacity of Reader, at the Temple. Surely that time-honoured pile had never witnessed such a brilliant concourse as flocked to listen to the law and learning of the future Lord Chancellor. All the dignitaries of London, in the robes of their respective callings, municipal, clerical, commercial, legal, and the last day of the course many Peers of the realm, members of the royal household, in barges of State, attended by servants in scarlet and white doublets, the King’s own Majesty, accompanied by the Duke of York, Prince Rupert, and numerous grandees. This was but the shadow of coming honours.

Sir Heneage continued in Parliament for some time, now gaining, now losing, popularity with his constituents, for voting as he thought fit on important measures.

In 1670 he became Attorney-General on the death of Sir Jeffrey Palmer, having exercised the duties of the office for some time past. His ambition, however, suffered a temporary disappointment, when, on the removal of Sir Orlando Bridgeman, he saw his rival, Lord Shaftesbury, elevated to the Woolsack in his despite.

But he had not long to wait for his enemy’s downfall. At the end of 1673 the Great Seal of England was consigned to him, and the beginning of the next year saw him Lord Keeper, with the title of Baron Finch of Daventry, in the county of Northampton, and other dignities.

In 1677 he sat as Lord High Steward of England on the trial of Philip Earl of Pembroke, and in 1680 on that of William Howard, Viscount Stafford, where his speech, in which he passed sentence on that unfortunate nobleman, (accused of plotting against the King,) was pronounced a model of eloquence, but scarcely of justice. Burnet, who found great fault with him in many ways, testifies to his probity, yet other writers insinuate that he consulted the royal wishes on many points of law, at least before he had attained to the heights of his ambition.

Be that as it may, he was very firm on all matters where the interests of the Reformed Church were concerned. In his latter days Lord Finch became so great a sufferer from gout that he was for some time incapacitated from attending his duties in public, and he did not long survive the last mark of royal favour, dying within a year after the Earldom of Nottingham had been conferred on him.

This great lawyer, who has been called ‘the Father of Equity,’ and ‘Finch the Silver Tongue,’ died at his house in Queen Street, Covent Garden, and was buried at Ravenstone, near Olney, county Bucks, where a grand monument assigns him every virtue under the sun. He had fourteen children, of whom the eldest son was the ancestor of the present Earl of Winchilsea and Nottingham, and the second of the Earl of Aylesford.

Lord Nottingham was a liberal patron of literary men, and encouraged rising talent. As Bishop Warburton quaintly expresses it, (in a letter to Lady Mansfield, Nottingham’s granddaughter, and wife of the celebrated Judge,) ‘He was elegantly ambitious to give the last polish to his country by patronage of learning and science.’

In the distribution of Church preferment he was very conscientious, and often said, ‘God knows, I would not willingly appoint one unworthy.’ He was by no means of a grasping disposition, and having a good private fortune, gave up of his own accord £4000 a year, which was allowed him in his official capacity for the expenses of the table.

In ‘Absalom and Achitophel,’ Dryden contrasts him, (by the name of Amri,) in most complimentary terms, with Lord Shaftesbury.

Alluding to the English laws, the poet says he had fathomed them all:—

‘No Rabbin speaks like him, their magic spell,
So just, and with such charms of eloquence;
To whom the double blessing does belong,
With Moses’ inspiration, Aaron’s tongue.’

Worth says, that ‘the business, rather than the justice of the Court, flourished exceedingly under Finch.’ Another opinion has it that ‘he was a formalist, and took much pleasure in encouraging and listening to nice distinctions of law, instead of taking a broad view of the equity of each case.’ So do historians differ. It was said he had such fear of thieves stealing his wand of office, that he used to sleep with the mace under his pillow.

--------------

No. 108.

GEORGE MONCK, DUKE OF ALBEMARLE.

BY SIR PETER LELY.

BORN 1608, DIED 1670.

_Gold armour. Mantle, collar, and badge of Garter. Left arm akimbo.
Right hand holding a truncheon._

A NATIVE of Devonshire. When a youth of seventeen he became involved in some local quarrel, where, says the _Biographie Universelle_, ‘par excès d’amour filial, il maltraita le sous-Sheriff d’Exeter.’ He was sent to sea, and served at one time under the Duke of Buckingham. In 1629 he entered an English regiment in Holland, where he studied the art of war with great diligence, and was remarkable for his steadiness of conduct, and the discipline he maintained among the soldiers, treating them at the same time with uniform kindness. In 1639 he returned to England; and in Charles I.’s disastrous expedition to Scotland, Monck displayed great skill in command of the artillery, though productive of no good results. He then went to Ireland on promotion, where he did considerable service, and was made Governor of Dublin; but the Parliament intervening, he was suspended from the office; and on the conclusion of a treaty (by the King’s command) with the Irish rebels, he once more returned to England.

On his arrival he found that doubts of his fidelity had been implanted in Charles’s mind, but on joining him at Oxford, he completely cleared himself, was promoted, and ordered to relieve Sandwich, where he was taken prisoner by the Roundheads and sent to the Tower. During the two years of his captivity Monck steadily refused all overtures made to him by the Protector, and occupied his leisure hours in making notes on military and political subjects. Cromwell entertained a high opinion of his soldier-like qualities, and offered him the alternative of prolonged imprisonment or a command to put down the Irish rebels under O’Neill. Monck accepted the latter, but was ill supported by the Government at home, so much so that he was reluctantly compelled to sign a truce with the insurgents. For this he was called to account on his return to England, but he was too useful that Cromwell should afford to quarrel with him again; and so he was despatched to Scotland, where he did much service. The Protector at the time was well aware of the General’s loyal proclivities, and wrote to him shortly before his death: ‘There be those that tell me there is a certain cunning fellow in Scotland called General Monck, who is said to lie in wait there to introduce Charles Stuart. I pray you to use your diligence to apprehend him and send him up to me.’

The share which Monck took in the Restoration is too well known to be repeated here. Charles called him his father, gave him the Garter, created him Baron Monck, Earl of Torrington, and Duke of Albemarle, and appointed him Lieutenant-General of the forces of the United Kingdom, with a large income.

In 1653 he married or acknowledged his marriage with Anne, daughter of John Clarges, who had long resided under his roof,—‘a lady,’ says Guizot, ‘whose manners were more vulgar and less simple than those of her husband, and who was the laughing-stock of a witty and satirical Court.’

The French historian speaks disparagingly of the great General, but in the time of the plague, when the King and Ministers left London, the Duke remained to watch over the necessities of the wretched inhabitants, to save families from pillage, and to alleviate the sufferings of the poor. He was afloat when the fire occurred, and the general cry was: ‘Ah, if old George had been here, this would not have happened.’

He died in his sixty-second year, leaving an enormous fortune to his spendthrift son Christopher, and was buried in Westminster Abbey with great splendour, Charles II. attending the funeral. Guizot says: ‘C’etoit un homme capable de grandes choses, quoiqu’il n’eut pas de grandeur dans l’âme.’ His jealousy of his noble comrade Lord Sandwich seems to bear out the French historian’s opinion in some measure. In his last illness he was much occupied in the arrangement of the alliance of his surviving son Christopher (the death of the elder had been a terrible blow to him) with the heiress of the wealthy Duke of Newcastle. His death was peaceful: he expired in his arm-chair without a groan.

--------------

No. 109.

HENRY BENNET, EARL OF ARLINGTON.

BY SIR PETER LELY.

BORN 1618, DIED 1685.

_Black dress, white sleeves. Sitting holding a letter. Black patch
on his nose._

THE family was settled in Berkshire, when towards the close of the sixteenth century two brothers Bennet went to London and respectively made their fortunes by successful commercial undertakings. From the elder descended a certain Sir John Bennet, living at Dawley, county Middlesex, who married Dorothy, daughter of Sir John Crofts of Saxham, county Norfolk. The subject of this notice was their second son. He was carefully educated under the paternal roof, but went to Oxford, and was entered a student at Christ Church, where he took his degree as B.A. and M.A., and was much esteemed both as scholar and poet. He remained some time at the University, where he was still a resident when the Court arrived in 1644.

He was presented to King Charles, and soon after entered the army as a volunteer. Lord Digby, then Secretary of State, took a fancy to young Bennet, and appointed him Under-Secretary. But this post did not interfere with his military duties, he was ever in the field ‘when honour called,’ and was so severely wounded at Andover, in an engagement near that town, as to be invalided for a long time. He was indeed dangerously ill, and there is little doubt that it was in one of these encounters, that he received the scar by which he is so well known in all his portraits.

Deeply attached to the Royalist cause, on the termination of the war Bennet went to France, and on into Germany and Italy, never losing sight of the hope of once more joining and serving the house of Stuart. In 1649 he was summoned to Paris by James Duke of York, to fill the post of private secretary.

King Charles, writing to his brother, says: ‘You must be very kind to Harry Bennet, and communicate freely with him, for as you are sure that he is full of duty and integrity to you, so I must tell you that I shall trust him more than any about you, and cause him to be instructed in those businesses of mine, when I cannot write to you myself.’

Charles’s letters to Bennet also plainly show the terms of intimacy and trust which existed between them.

This was especially remarkable as regarded the affairs of Spain; and in 1658, Sir Henry Bennet, Knight, was sent as Ambassador to Madrid. Clarendon says the step was at the instigation of Lord Bristol, but at this time there was strife between the new Ambassador and his former patron. Henry Bennet, with all the zeal that usually characterises a recent convert to Catholicism, was very anxious that his royal master should make his profession to the same faith, whereas Digby, or rather the Earl of Bristol, (as he had become,) though himself a Roman Catholic, considered that such a step would be ruinous to Charles’s interests, and opposed it stoutly. Great bitterness in consequence existed between Bristol and Bennet, increased by the jealousy excited in the mind of the former with regard to Bennet’s mission, being under the impression that he himself was far better fitted for the post.

Sir Henry, however, seems to have pleased most parties in his diplomatic capacity; and at the Restoration he was sent for by the King, who gave him the office of Privy Purse, and made him his constant companion. Bennet was well calculated to suit the taste of the Merry Monarch. Burnet tells us he had the art of observing the King’s humour, and managing it, beyond all the men of his time; and Clarendon gives us a clew to one of the reasons, when he mentions that ‘Bennet filled a principal place, to all intents and purposes, at the nightly meetings,’ (alluding to the King’s jovial suppers in Lady Castlemaine’s apartments,) added to which, he was most lively and sparkling in conversation.

In 1662 Charles bribed Sir Edward Nicholas to resign his Secretaryship of State, (and that with a considerable sum,) that he might bestow the vacant post on his favourite. The contrast between Bennet’s entire submission to the Royal will and the honest rectitude of the Chancellor (Clarendon) increased the King’s dislike to that worthy servant of the Crown, on whose downfall Bennet rose still higher.

In 1663 he was raised to the Peerage as Lord Arlington, whereupon Clarendon threw some ridicule on the choice of the title, taken from an obscure village in Middlesex, which had once belonged to Bennet’s father, but was now in the possession of another family.

While at the head of public affairs, no measures of any importance were undertaken, with the exception of the first Dutch war.

In 1670 was formed the famous Cabal Ministry (spoken of more fully in our notice of Lord Shaftesbury) which Arlington consented to join, and of which his title formed one of the initials.

So notoriously now did he consult the King’s wishes rather than the public good, that he was rewarded in 1672 by the dignity of Baron Thetford and Earl of Arlington, and later invested with the Garter. Being sent on an embassy to Utrecht, in company with the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Halifax, (which was productive of no good results,) he afterwards turned his attention to the overthrow of the Cabal, in the breaking up of which he was most instrumental. He however fell into great disrepute with both Catholics and Protestants about this time, the Duke of York (on the passing of the Test Act) loading him with every kind of abuse, while the opposite side charged him with endeavouring to introduce Popery.

The Duke of Buckingham was loud in censure of Lord Arlington, who was impeached, and, after making a long defence, acquitted by a small majority. He held office for a short time longer, and advocated a treaty of peace with the Dutch, but soon after resigned office, having received (it was said) a douceur from his successor of several thousands.

In 1674 he was named Chamberlain of the Household in recompence (so ran the Royal declaration) ‘of his long and faithful services, and particularly of his having discharged the office of principal Secretary of State to his Majesty’s entire satisfaction.’

Lord Arlington’s wish to be again employed in public affairs was not gratified till 1675, when he once more went on a diplomatic mission to Holland, in company with the Earl of Ossory. Lady Arlington and Lady Ossory were sisters, and members of the house of Nassau. This was his last appearance in public life. Burnet says that ‘Arlington entirely mistook the character of William Prince of Orange,’ with whom he had to deal; speaking to him in a dictatorial manner, which was not at all agreeable to that Prince, although he was then young in years. Arlington still held a place in the royal household, but he had fallen into disgrace, and the King encouraged and enjoyed any jest, or ridicule, at the expense of his former boon companion. Nothing delighted Charles more than to see some of his courtiers put a black patch upon their noses, and strut about with a long white staff, in imitation of ‘Harry Bennet.’

James II. on his accession did not remove Arlington from his post in the household, but he only survived a few months, dying in July 1685.

He was buried at Euston, in Suffolk. He married Isabella, daughter of Lewis de Nassau, Lord of Beverwart, in the United Provinces, by whom he had an only child, Isabella, married, in 1672, to Henry Fitzroy (son of Charles _II._ by Barbara Villiers), who was created Earl of Euston and Duke of Grafton.

--------------

No. 110.

THE HONOURABLE HENRY THYNNE.

BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER.

BORN 1675, DIED 1708.

_Blue coat. Full wig._

THE eldest son of the first Lord Weymouth, by Lady Frances Finch, daughter of the Earl of Winchilsea. He was of a studious and literary turn of mind, and delighted in the companionship of his father’s guest, Bishop Ken, in conjunction with whom he formed a pleasant coterie of cultivated spirits at Longleat. Henry Thynne was a good linguist, and, as we have mentioned in the notice of Bishop Ken, gave lessons in French and Latin to the young poetess afterwards known as Elizabeth Rowe. He married Grace, daughter and sole heir of Sir George Strode of Leweston, county Dorset, by whom he had two daughters, Frances Countess of Hertford, and Mary, married to William Greville, Lord Brooke, who died in the nineteenth year of her age. Lady Hertford inherited her father’s taste for literature, and became a patron and friend of divers authors, many of whom are well known to fame, while others were only local bards. For instance, Pope and Thomson were her guests, while she patronised and befriended Stephen Duck, known by the title of ‘The Wiltshire Thresher.’ Henry Thynne died before his father, at the age of thirty-three.

--------------

No. 111.

WILLIAM CAVENDISH, DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.

BY ABRAHAM VAN DIEPENBEKE.

BORN 1592, DIED 1676.

_He is dressed as a Roman warrior in armour, leading his wife by the
hand. She wears a yellow robe, and has a white veil on her head.
Several children in fantastic costumes. Horses. One of the children
is mounted on horseback._

HE was the son of Sir Charles Cavendish, (who was brother to the first Earl of Devonshire of that family,) by a daughter and co-heir of the last Lord Ogle. Educated at home, and then at Cambridge, he was made Knight of the Bath when Henry (son to King James I.) was created Prince of Wales. He accompanied Sir Henry Wotton on his embassy to Savoy, who writes of him as ‘a young man nobly bred, and of great expectations.’ The Duke of Savoy took a fancy to Cavendish, offered him a high post in his army, and loaded him with valuable presents when he returned to England.

In 1620 he was created Lord Ogle and Viscount Mansfield, having already succeeded to the paternal estates. Charles I., after his accession, further created him Lord Cavendish of Bolsover and Earl of Newcastle, and subsequently Governor to the Prince of Wales, with a seat in the Council.

Newcastle was much liked at Court. ‘The King esteemed him highly, as did Wentworth, but Buckingham was jealous of him.’ His manner of living was splendid; indeed, it was said of him later in life, that he went to battle in a coach-and-six. He entertained the King and Queen at his dwelling-houses of Welbeck and Bolsover in so sumptuous a manner as to make a great noise.

When the war broke out with the Scots, he was one of those loyal nobles who contributed large sums towards levying troops for the Royal service, and he raised a regiment at his own expense, which he named the Prince of Wales’s Own. It was on account of a question of precedency for this regiment, (in which many members of the Cavendish family held commissions,) that Newcastle quarrelled with Lord Holland, General of the Horse, and no sooner was the army disbanded, than he sent that General a challenge, but the King having gained intimation of the impending duel, prohibited the same, upon which some of Newcastle’s enemies accused him of avoiding the encounter from want of personal courage, a statement ill borne out by his proverbial valour.

Shortly after this he resigned his post at Court, and retired to his own estates; but, on the breaking out of the Civil War, he once more buckled on his armour, and resumed the military career for which Clarendon tells us ‘he had neither talent nor inclination, but pursued from sheer loyalty.’ Collins gives a very different version, enumerating manifold victories which Newcastle was mainly instrumental in gaining, in the north of England, more especially the battle of Bradford, where the rebels were defeated, and where he took twenty-two great guns, and many colours.

In 1642 he met the Queen at Burlington, when she landed with supplies, and escorted her to Oxford, where the King then was, for which and other services he was made Marquis of Newcastle and Knight of the Garter.

In 1643 his first wife died. Newcastle had a stormy time of it in that most stormy period, not only through the vicissitudes of war, not only in the battlefield, but through bickerings and jealousies in the army, and ‘slanderous pens,’ which often tempted the Marquis to throw up his command in disgust. This design he carried into effect, immediately after the battle of Marston Moor, where he commanded the right wing of the Royal army. He took ship at Scarborough, and, accompanied by several relatives and friends, sailed for Hamburgh. He spent many years on the Continent, frequently visiting his royal master Charles II. in Holland, and when the King was invited to Scotland, his faithful servant asked permission to attend him, but was refused by the Scots. While abroad the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle (for he had married a second time) were in most straitened circumstances, and were often compelled to pawn their clothes to procure the necessaries of life, the English Parliament having seized upon most of his estates and revenues, and cut down his timber, which caused the Duchess to go over to England, as we shall presently see. The noble exiles, after many wanderings, had settled in the City of Antwerp—‘my Lord choosing it for the pleasantest and quietest place to retire himself and his ruined fortunes in.’ It was here he wrote that splendid work on Horsemanship which adorns most of our finest libraries, and by which the name of the Marquis of Newcastle will ever be remembered.

At the Restoration they returned to England, when he received a dukedom, but he resolved to have no more to do with public life, and retired to the shade of the few ancestral trees his enemies’ axes had spared him. The Duke’s remaining years were spent in the society of his beloved wife and valued friends, and in the pursuit of his favourite occupations. He died at an advanced age, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, where stands a monument to him, on which are represented the forms of William, Duke of Newcastle, the ‘loyall Duke,’ and his wife, side by side. He was brave and accomplished, loved riding, dancing, singing, and was so devoted to poetry, that he was said to have made Sir William Davenant his Lieutenant-General of Ordnance, more on account of his proficiency as a poet, than for any knowledge of military affairs. ‘His courage,’ says Sir Philip Warwick, ‘was invincible, but his edge had too much of the razor in it.’ He was a strong upholder of monarchy and the Church, though not very nice as to points of creed. We have no room for one hundredth part of the eulogiums pronounced on him by his Duchess, but of his exterior she tells us that ‘his shape was exactly proportioned, his stature of a middle size, his complexion sanguine, his behaviour a pattern to all gentlemen, courtly, civil, and fine, without formality,’ and so forth; while another account of him was, ‘a fantastic general and a virtuoso on horseback!’ From the heading of one of the chapters in his book, it is evident he was very proud of his proficiency as an equestrian, for he says, ‘Some, seeing, imitate, and imagine they ride as well as I do.’

His first wife was Margaret Basset of Blore, county Stafford, relict of Henry Howard, son to the Earl of Suffolk, by whom he had a very large family, and of whom her successor records that ‘she was a kind, virtuous, and loving lady, who blessed her husband with dutiful and obedient children, who did all in their power to relieve and support their father in his banishment.’

Margaret Lucas, Newcastle’s second wife, is better known to fame. Her epitaph says ‘she was youngest sister to Lord Lucas of Colchester, a noble familie, for all the brothers were valiant, and all the sisters virtuous. This Duches was a wise, wittie, and learned lady, which her manie books doe testifie. She was a most loving, virtuous, and careful wife, and was with her lord all the time of his banishment and miseries, and when he came home, never parted from him in his solitary retirement.’ She was a voluminous writer in a quaint and high-flown style, and a great favourite of Charles Lamb’s, whose mention of her in Elia causes her perhaps to be better known than her own literary merits may lay claim to. Elia says, ‘where a book is good and rare, such a book, for instance, as the life of the Duke of Newcastle, by his Duchess, no casket is sufficiently durable to honour and keep safe such a jewel.’

In 1643, the year in which Lord Newcastle lost his first wife, Margaret Lucas went to the Court of Henrietta Maria, where, she tells us, her gravity, reticent, and virtuous timidity, which ill assorted with the courtly manners of the period, caused her to be regarded as a simpleton. She did not relish the life, but remained on, by her mother’s wish; and when the Queen fled to France, Margaret Lucas accompanied her.

In 1645, Newcastle, being in Paris, saw, and loved the Maid of Honour, who became his wife. The union was most happy. ‘They loved each other truly, and had many pursuits and tastes in common, notwithstanding which a story is told that the Duke, being once complimented on the talent of his wife, replied, ‘Sir, a wise woman is a very foolish thing.’

The Duchess was of graceful person, reserved, and reticent. Her piety, generosity, and charity, were proverbial, and, as we have before observed, when her husband’s affairs were involved, she went to England, where she spent a year and a half, endeavouring with the help of her brother and brother-in-law to get some compensation for the property seized by the Parliament. ‘Then I made haste to return to my Lord, with whom I had rather be as a poor beggar, than to be mistress of the world, absented from him.’ And they were happy, ‘though fortune did pinch their lives with poverty.’

It would seem that this picture must represent Margaret Lucas, since the first wife was never Duchess; the introduction of the horses, too, would surely imply that the portraits were painted after, or at the time, the book on Horsemanship was published; when we surmise also that Newcastle made the acquaintance of the painter Diepenbeke at Antwerp, though he accompanied the Duke to England.

--------------

No. 112.

SIR THOMAS OVERBURY.

BY ZUCCHERO.

BORN 1581, POISONED 1613.

_Oval. Black coat. Red and white sash. Lace collar. Pointed beard._

WAS of a good family in Warwickshire. Born at Compton Scorfen, the home of his maternal grandfather. Entered Queen’s College, Oxford, as gentleman commoner, where he studied logic and philosophy, and afterwards went to the Middle Temple.

His father, having been bred to the law, wished he should pursue the same calling, but Thomas preferred the study of polite literature, and the allurements of a Court life.

After a brief tour on the Continent he went to Scotland, where he became acquainted with Robert Carr or Kerr, then page to the Earl of Dunbar, and, forming a close friendship, they travelled to London together. Writers appear to be at variance as to the date when King James I. saw, and took a fancy to young Carr; and the story of his falling wounded from his horse, in a tilting-match, at the King’s feet, requires confirmation.

But there was no doubt that he soon stood high in the royal favour, and Carr was one who well knew how to improve his opportunities, being of a time-serving disposition, and no way above flattery. His education had been neglected, and the ‘royal pedant,’ as James has so often been called, undertook to teach the youth Latin. Whether he prosecuted his studies with much zeal we do not know, but he was an adept in the art of self-aggrandisement; and, believing in Overbury’s disinterested friendship, he consulted him on every step he took. Interceding with the King for his friend, he gained the honour of knighthood (for honour it was indeed esteemed in those days) for Thomas, and managed that the father Overbury should be made a judge. This was about 1608.

Carr himself was raised to the peerage by the title of Viscount Rochester. He became enamoured of the Countess of Essex, (wife to the third Earl of the Devereux family, and daughter to Howard, Earl of Suffolk,) then but eighteen years of age, ‘of a sweet and bewitching countenance, hiding a wicked heart.’ She was headstrong into the bargain, and her passion for Carr knew no bounds. She hated her husband, her father, and all who expostulated with her on her shameless conduct, and smiled on no one but her lover and ‘sweet Mistress Turner,’ her go-between.

It has been adduced against Overbury, that he at first encouraged the intrigue, but when the question of a divorce arose, he left no stone unturned to dissuade Rochester from the attempt to procure one, which brought down upon him the lasting hatred of the beautiful termagant. Overbury warned his friend, that it would be destructive to his future fortunes to marry a woman whose husband was still living; moreover, that her conduct was infamous, and would brand them both with ignominy. Peyton (Sir Thomas’s servant) describes the quarrel which took place between his master and my Lord of Rochester on the occasion.

Overbury waited ‘in the chamber next the privy gallery’ for the return of Rochester, who did not appear till three in the morning. High words passed between them, my Lord asking angrily what Sir Thomas ‘did there at that time of night;’ Overbury replying by the question, ‘Where have you been? Will you never leave the company of that bad woman?’ But all his warnings and admonitions were thrown away, and only insured him the deadly enmity of both lovers. The King, who was not likely to be deterred by any sense of rectitude from the weak pleasure he found in complying with any demand that Rochester might make, not only connived at the passing of the divorce, but created Carr Earl of Somerset, as he was not considered of sufficiently high rank to marry one who had been a Countess. The lovers now turned their thoughts to the ruin of their quondam friend. It was easy in those days to procure a commitment to the Tower, and Sir Thomas Overbury soon found himself within those dreary walls, Somerset pretending all the while the greatest friendship for the prisoner.

Overbury’s father wrote him a pleading letter in behalf of his son, but Sir Thomas was not allowed to see any friends. There can be no doubt of the fact that his food was drugged, and he fell into bad health; but his constitution was strong, and he languished for some time.

The perfidious Somerset sent him a white powder that he was ‘convinced would be efficacious. He might,’ he said, ‘take it without fear, even if it produced sickness, which sickness may be a plea for your release.’

The unfortunate man’s release was by the hand of death. He died from the effects of strong poison administered to him medically, and was buried with indecent haste. Ugly rumours were abroad, and the names of Lord and Lady Somerset were in many mouths, but few cared to come forward as accusers while the mantle of Royal protection was thrown over them. But ‘Robie’ was supplanted at Court by ‘Steenie,’ or in other words, by George Villiers, afterwards Duke of Buckingham; and when his star was in the ascendant, then the mouths of many were opened. About this time too, a curious incident occurred which helped to confirm the suspicions concerning Overbury’s mysterious death.

One day that Lord Salisbury was entertaining at the same time, at dinner, Sir Gervase Elwes (Governor of the Tower at the time of Overbury’s death) and Sir Ralph Winwood, Secretary of State, his lordship recommended the former to the patronage of the latter, upon which Winwood said how much he wished Elwes could clear himself of the imputation of murder that had been cast upon him. Whereon he (Elwes) spoke out, and confessed all, together with the share that the Earl and Countess of Somerset had had in the terrible transaction, and so it came about that the guilty pair were arrested with the consent of the King.

The hypocritical James, taking leave of his ex-favourite, embraced him with every show of affection; but no sooner had he left the apartment, than he cried out: ‘The devil go with thee, for I will never see thy face again.’

The trial of persons so high in position, and so well known in royal circles, caused a great sensation, and the Court was crowded with ladies and great personages. Lord Somerset wore a dress of black satin, and a gown of uncut velvet, his ruff and cuffs were of cobweb lace, neither had he forgotten to wear his George and Garter, or have his hair carefully curled. His handsome face was very pale, and he pleaded not guilty. ‘He trusted to the justice of the Lords to acquit him.’ He denied everything, even his own letters, which he said were ‘counterfeit.’

The lady was arraigned next day, and her demeanour, which we are told by a contemporary was ‘sober,’ was altogether different from that of her husband. She pleaded guilty with a low obeisance. She several times covered her face with her fan, during evidence given, but she confessed everything. She shed (or made a show of shedding) some tears divers times. Her deportment, says the same authority, ‘was more curious and confident than was fit for a lady in such distress.’

Yet it is also said of her that her voice was scarce audible from fear, when she hoped the Lords would intercede for her. The verdict was, that the Earl and Countess of Somerset, with several accomplices, were guilty of devising and compassing the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury.

The King, fickle and cruel as he was, appeared very uneasy during the trial, even going so far as to lose his appetite for dinner and supper; but he did not like the idea of signing the death-warrant of the two people at whose wickedness he had connived; so he signed their pardon, and they were committed to the Tower—the lady not being taken thither till after her confinement, when it is said she shed a few tears over her new-born daughter, and was removed to prison.

The accomplices, Elwes, Weston, and the beautiful but infamous ‘Mistress Turner,’ Lady Somerset’s go-between in her amours, and abettor in the murder of Overbury, with others, were all executed.

An eye-witness speaks of the bewitching appearance of the fair Mistress Turner on the scaffold. ‘I saw her die,’ says the letter alluded to—‘her powdered hair, her yellow bands, her starched ruff;’ and a poem that was written, called ‘Overbury’s Vision,’ speaks of the cruel cord that did ‘misbecome her comely neck; yet by man’s just doom had been her death.’ ‘Sighs and tears and Court vanities,’ etc. etc.