Chapter VI: Front Matter (6)

'You may imagen your letter was very well come to me for I receved it
att a time when I needed all the kindnes you expresse to me in it and
all the consolation it brought me, for I was halfe dead, but I am of
the opinion that the greatest cordiall in the world, and that which
will bring one allmost from death to life, is the kindnes of a person
for whome one has a great estime, and I am sure you cannot doubt but I
have as much for you as it is possible, since I could never desemble
in my life nor neuer make an expressione that I did not meane sencerly
from my hart, I hope you doe beleeue this and that you will allwayes
continue affectione to me since you can bestow it upon nobody that is
more sencible of it and that will more reioyce in it than my selfe
pardon this most horible scribble and beleeve I am with as much trewth
as tis possible

'Dear Mrs. Frechevill
'Your most affectionate
'humble Servant,
'T. KILLIGREW.

'My Lady Anne is Your humble Servant.'

Of his three sons by his second marriage, Thomas, generally known as Tom Killigrew the younger, was Gentleman of the Bedchamber to George II., when Prince of Wales, and was somewhat of a playwright, like his father. He wrote a piece called 'Chit-Chat' (in which, by the way, the mercurial Colley Cibber played the principal part--'Alamode, a fop'). It was produced at Drury Lane shortly before the author's death, an event which took place at Kensington, in July, 1719. This play is said to have been very successful--was one of 'the four taking plays of the season'--and on its production the Prince made Killigrew a present of 100 guineas, to which the Princess added another fifty. As far as I can make out--though the matter is involved in great obscurity--the lady to whom reference has already been made as the possessor of the elder Tom Killigrew's portrait, and as dying, the last of her name, in 1819, must have descended from this branch of the family.

Robert, brother of the foregoing Thomas the younger, was a soldier. 'Militavit annos 24' is recorded on his monument in the north aisle of the nave of Westminster Abbey;[86] and he had risen to the rank of Major-General, when he fell on the plains of Almanza, near Chinchilla, on 25th April, 1707, being then forty-seven years old. This battle was fought, during the Spanish war of succession, between the Spanish and French, commanded by the Duke of Berwick (a natural son of James II.), and the allied English and Dutch forces under the incompetent General Ruvigny, Earl of Galway; on which occasion the latter were defeated; the fate of Spain was decided; and the Bourbon line was practically restored to the Spanish throne, in the person of Philip V.

Galway--

'Deep versed in books, but shallow in himself'

(a red-tapeist general, who fought always according to rule),--'drew up his troops agreeably to the manner prescribed by the best writers, and, in a few hours, lost 18,000 men, 120 standards, all his baggage, and all his artillery.' 'Do you remember, child,' says the foolish woman in the _Spectator_ to her husband, 'that the pigeon-house fell the very afternoon that our careless wench spilt the salt upon the table?' 'Yes, my dear,' replies the gentleman, 'and the next post brought us an account of the battle of Almanza.'[87]

This battle is further remarkable as having been the first occasion on which the Union Jack was used as the British Ensign; and from its being almost the first time when British troops used the bayonet; it is also noteworthy, because at Almanza English and Dutch troops, commanded by a Frenchman, were defeated by French and Spaniards, commanded by a British General. The battle was fought on a plain about a mile in front of the town; and, I believe, an obelisk still marks the site.

Colonel Townshend Wilson, in his 'Memoir of the Duke of Berwick' (1883), gives a vivid description of the stubbornly contested three hours' conflict--in which 'never did Briton and Dutch face the foe more steadily.' They were however out-numbered and out-generalled--and on this day the old Das Minas might have been seen, accompanied by a young lady, his mistress, in a gay riding-habit, cantering to and fro among the allied troops under fire; but an unmannerly shot emptied her saddle. The end of the battle is thus described:

'From stern resistance the cosmopolitan infantry suddenly changed
to brilliant attack. With a tremendous effort they beat down all
opponents. Two battalions, irresistible in might, trampled down the
enemy's double line, pressed even to the walls of Almansa. Superb
audacity in front of well-led soldiers is sometimes foolishness.
Don José de Amezaga, with two squadrons, charging the enemy, blown
and in disarray, cut them to pieces.... Then the wondrous English
and Huguenot foot, quite _en l'air_, deprived of support, most of
their superior officers laid low, thought of retreat. The manœuvre
was impracticable. Hundreds of men were trampled under the hoofs of
exulting cavaliers. Six battalions, crushed into a crowd, had to lay
down their arms. But thirteen battalions (five of which were English),
holding grimly together, under Count Dhona, and Major-General
Shrimpton of the Guards, retired in fine order to a hill about a
league from the field.'

Being, however, without provisions, these gallant fellows were compelled on the following day to surrender to their antagonists. The Spanish loss was 2,000; that of the Allies double that number, and eighty-eight British officers, including Brigadier Killigrew and Colonels Dormer and Roper, were amongst the slain.

Among Brigadier Robert's small effects were twenty-two pistoles, a bay horse, a pair of gold buttons, and his watch and seal--as appears from some family letters preserved among the 'Additional MSS.' in the British Museum. He seems to have found life a 'fitful fever,' for in his very last letter to his brother--as 'T. K.' has endorsed it--he says that he is 'verre wery of sarvin in this Hott Contre.' But he was a courageous soldier; for his nephew, Major Henry Killigrew, of the Irish Carabineers, who seems to have also been present at the battle, writes that 'no man there gave up his life with greater bravery' than his uncle did. General Robert Killigrew, in fact, appears to have deserved the place which he attained amongst the Worthies of England at Westminster.

Charles, the third brother, was born in 1650, and was buried in the Savoy in 1725. He succeeded his father in the post of Master of the Revels[88] in 1680, with a fee of £10 per annum; and he was made a Commissioner of Prizes in 1707. J. T. Smith tells us that he used to license, 'in black and red print,' all ballad-singers, mountebanks, rope-dancers, prize-players, 'and such as make shew of motions and strange sights.' He also succeeded to the ownership of the play-house in Drury Lane; and is said to have done much to correct the profaneness of the stage.

Amongst the Lord Chamberlain's Records of the Reign of Charles II. is a volume marked 'Players Booke,' which contains many curious entries, such as regulations against persons forcing their way into the theatre without payment at the beginning of the last acts of the piece. No actor to leave the theatre without giving three months' warning. No visitor to come between the scenes, or sit or stand upon the stage during the time of acting. It also appears that certain of the actors had entered into a bond of £500 with Charles Killigrew for the theatrical properties, and a regulation was made that thenceforth none of the actors or actresses should 'presume to go out of the House in theire acting Clothes.' The well known Mohun, who was one of the parties to this bond, had served as Major of a regiment in Flanders.

But Harry, who seems to have been a son of Tom the elder, by his first wife Cecilia Crofts, took most after his father. He was Groom of the Chamber to James II., when Duke of York; and was the scapegrace of the family. Pepys was more than once shocked at his conduct, and speaks of him as a 'rogue newly come out of France.' Before he did this he had earned a bad character abroad; for on 21st July, 1660, the Prince Palatine wrote of a duel which Master Harry fought at Heidelberg, and adds, 'He will never leave his lying as long as his tongue can wagg.' There were ugly suspicions of his having, in a drunken fit, stabbed his own servant; and of his having committed other outrageous misdeeds. In 1666 he was banished from the Court, 'for raw words spoken against a lady of pleasure.' Yet he seems to have contrived to find his way back again; for in 1667 occurred the memorable squabble between him and Buckingham, which Pepys thus relates, and to which Charles II. also referred in a letter to Prince Rupert:

'Creed tells me of the fray between the Duke of Buckingham at the Duke's play-house the last Saturday (and it is the first day I have heard that they have acted at either the King's or Duke's houses this month or six weeks), and Henry Killigrew, whom the Duke of Buckingham did soundly beat and take away his sword, and make a fool of, till the fellow prayed him to spare his life; & I am glad of it, for it seems in this business the Duke of Buckingham did carry himself very innocently & well, & I wish he had paid this fellow's coat well.'

The quarrel seems to have originated in some insulting words used by Harry Killigrew towards the Duke from an adjoining box, and to these the Duke replied in like fashion; whereupon a quarrel ensued, which ended in a challenge from Killigrew. This the Duke refused to accept, and a personal encounter was the consequence--the two combatants chasing each other round the house, to the great annoyance of the rest of the audience, as may be supposed. Killigrew seems to have lost his character as a man of courage--whilst the Duke lost--his wig! as well as his temper. I have not been able to discover what became afterwards of this 'ne'er-do-weel,' except that in 1698 he contrived to get a free grant of £200 from the Treasury. He married Lady Mary Savage, had two sons (Henry and James), and was buried on 16th December, 1705, at St. Martin's-in-the-Fields.

We have thus completed, so far as seemed desirable, our sketches of all the sons and grandsons of Sir Robert Killigrew of Hanworth, except that of his fifth son, Henry; to him and to his career and progeny we now turn. He was born at Hanworth the year after his brother Tom, viz. in 1612; and was at first educated, as Wood tells us, by that celebrated schoolmaster, Farnaby, at St. Giles's, Cripplegate. Thence he went to Christ Church, Oxford, when sixteen years of age, and at that University obtained his degrees of M.A. in 1638, and D.D. four years afterwards. Of his Latinity when at college, the following example, amongst others, has been preserved:--

ΠΡΟΤΈΛΕΙΑ [Greek: PROTELEIA].

ANGLO-BATAVA.

'Lævis adhuc, nec dum Vir constituende Marite;
Tuque Uxor Virgo, Virgo futura diu;
Tam Castos Dilatus Hymen colit ipse Pudores,
Nec tantum Cœlis Pinus Adulta placet.
Ne jactet plures Amor hoc ex Fœdere Tædas,
Et ludat Ritus, Pronuba Diva, Tuos
Præcipitata celer diffundat Tempora Currus,
Hanc Matrem facias, Hunc citò, Juno, Virum.

'Hic Fratri Lucem, dedit hic Tibi, Sponsa, Maritum,
O Quantum Mensis Munus Utrumq; juvat!
Quære Mihi Niveos, Puer Officiose, Lapillos
Ut Gemmâ Festum Candidiore notem.
Si tamen has vincant magè Lactea corpora gemmas,
Pulchrior Ipse Suum Signet, et Ipsa Diem.'

He, too, received a Court appointment, and was Preceptor to James II. and a Chaplain to the King's Army and to the Duke of York. In 1660, he was made Prebendary of the Twelfth Stall at Westminster, and about the same time Rector of Wheathampsted, where are some of the family tombs. But it was not until 1667, when he was between fifty and sixty years of age, that he obtained the post in connexion with which his name is most generally known-that of 'Master of the Savoy and Almoner to His Royal Highness.'

Whilst still a youngster of seventeen, he wrote a tragedy which he called 'The Conspiracy,' intended for performance at the celebration of the 'Nuptialls of the Lord Charles Herbert and the Lady Villers.' It was played at the Blackfriars Theatre in 1638, and was received with great applause--obtaining high praise from 'rare Ben Jonson' himself. One critic, indeed, objected that the sentiments expressed by the hero of the piece, Cleander, were far beyond his age--seventeen--until he was reminded that that was the age of the author himself. Here is a specimen of the youthful writer's powers:

'(_The Rightful Heir to the Crown kept from his inheritance: an angel
sings to him sleeping._)

'SONG.

'While Morpheus thus does gently lay
His powerful charge upon each part,
Making thy spirits ev'n obey
The silver charms of his dull art;

'I, thy Good Angel, from thy side--
As smoke doth from the altar rise,
Making no noise as it doth glide,--
Will leave thee in this soft surprise;

'And from the clouds will fetch thee down
A holy vision, to express
Thy right unto an earthly crown;
No power can make this kingdom less.

'But gently, gently, lest I bring
A start in sleep by sudden flight,
Playing aloof, and hovering,
Till I am lost unto the sight.

'This is a motion still and soft,
So free from noise and cry
That Jove himself, who hears a thought,
Knows not when we pass by.'

The play appears to have been printed without the writer's consent, in 1638, in an imperfect form; but it was not until fifteen years afterwards that he published an amended copy of it under the title of 'Pallantus and Eudora.' He also wrote another play, 'The Tyrant King of Crete,' which was never acted. Many of his sermons too were printed; one of them, Pepys--who seems to have gone almost everywhere, and heard almost everything--listened to in 1663: 'At Chapel I had room in the Privy Seale pewe with other gentlemen;' but he has left no record of the impression produced. Probably, therefore, it was not very deep or lasting; and, in fact, the sermons have no special excellence: yet there is something true and pathetic in this saying: 'Misery lays stronger bonds of love than Nature; and they are more than one, whom the same _misfortune_ joined together, than to whom the same womb gave life.'

The Rev. W. J. Loftie, in his 'History of the Savoy,' tells us that Henry Killigrew succeeded Sheldon as Master, and that he was no more careful and economic in the management of the decaying establishment than was his predecessor; yet King William III.'s Commissioners tell a somewhat different story, and describe him as 'a man of generous and public spirit, as his expenses in the Chapel of the said Hospital, and of King Henry VII. at Westminster, who was the founder of the said Hospital, do sufficiently testify.'

In the Savoy itself Henry Killigrew lived, paying £1 a year for his lodgings. No pleasant neighbourhood was that 'Sanctuary'[89] which Macaulay thus describes:

'The Savoy was another place of the same kind as Whitefriars; smaller
indeed, and less renowned, but inhabited by a not less lawless
population. An unfortunate tailor, who ventured to go thither for the
purpose of demanding payment for a debt, was set upon by the whole
mob of cheats, ruffians, and courtezans. He offered to give a full
discharge to his debtor, and a treat to the rabble, but in vain.
He had violated their "franchises," and this crime was not to be
pardoned. He was knocked down, stripped, tarred, and feathered. A rope
was tied round his waist. He was dragged naked up and down the street
amidst yells of "A bailiff! a bailiff!" Finally he was compelled to
kneel down, and curse his father and mother--and then "to limp home
without a rag upon him."'

The Master of the Savoy married twice, it is said; but I have failed to trace the maiden name of either of his wives. It would have been interesting to know who the first was, especially; for she was the mother of the fairest and brightest of all the Killigrews--Mistress Anne. The second wife continued to live in the Savoy after her husband's death, which took place the 14th March, 1699.

He had two sons and two daughters. The sons, both of whom were sailors, were Henry and James; and the daughters, Elizabeth and the incomparable ANNE. Clutterbuck, in his 'History of Hertfordshire,' says that Elizabeth married Dr. J. Lambe, Dean of Ely, who succeeded to the Rectory of Wheathampstead; and that they had five sons and five daughters. Her epitaph records that she was 'a most intirely beloved wife,' and that 'to menc̄on some of her virtues only (though very great ones) would lessen her character, who was a most eminent example of all those virtues whatsoever that adorn her sex.'

Henry, the elder son, appears to have been, on the whole, a successful man in his profession; he entered the navy in 1666, and for the next twenty years sailed in almost as many different ships; he was made Vice-Admiral of the Blue in 1689, and finally was created a Lord of the Admiralty under King William III. He died at his seat at St. Albans (for which place he had been elected M.P.) on the 9th November, 1712, eighteen years after his retirement from the Admiralty. Many MS. letters by him are in the Bodleian Library, and at All Souls' College, Oxford. In the British Museum is preserved a broadside entitled--

'GOOD NEWS FROM THE ENGLISH FLEET:

being an Account of a great and bloody Engagement which happened
yesterday between Their Majesties' Fleet commanded by Admiral
Killigrew, and the French Fleet near the Beachy--with a particular
account of the Taking Six of their Ships, and Sinking Three.'

It was printed 17th September, 1690; on which date the final result was not known, but enough had been learnt to describe the engagement as a victory; the battle was fought three leagues off the shore, and lasted from 10 a.m. till night.

Macaulay does not refer to this exploit; but, writing of the year 1693, he tells us that 'Killigrew and Delaval _were Tories_, and that the Whigs carried a vote of censure upon the Government in consequence of the late naval miscarriages, but failed to fix it on Killigrew and Delaval themselves, the Admirals.' The facts seem to have been that Killigrew and Delaval were appointed to convoy seventy ships of the line and thirty smaller vessels--the richly-freighted Smyrna fleet--past Brest to the Mediterranean; Rooke was to take them on afterwards. But the French fleet lay in wait for them near Gibraltar, and Rooke fell into the trap, with dire results. Macaulay thinks that Killigrew and Delaval ought to have been sharper, and not to have returned to England so soon. On hearing of the news in England, many of the merchants went away from the Royal Exchange 'pale as death.' There is, however, in the British Museum a rare ballad which somewhat conflicts with Macaulay's views, and I am tempted to refer to it, without being able to reconcile the discrepancy. It is entitled--

'The Seamen's Victory, or _Admiral Killigrew's_ glorious conquest over
the French Fleet, in the Streights, as they were coming from Thoulon
towards Brest. With the manner of Taking Three of their French Men of
War, and sinking Two more; although the French Admiral vainly boasted
he would recover Brest or Paradice, yet he shamefully run from the
English Fleet. (_To the Tune of The Spinning Wheel._)'

The ballad is illustrated with rough wood-cuts, three of which represent ships, and a fourth, it is to be presumed, the Admiral himself. It begins thus:

'Here's joyfull news came late from Sea,
'Tis of a gallant Victory,
Which o'er the French we did obtain,
Upon the throbbing Ocean Main.
As soon as e'er they found our Rage,
The Rogues was glad to disengage.'

The defeat of the attempt made by the Toulon fleet to join that at Brest is then described, in the same rude sort of lines eminently adapted for the roystering choristers who frequent seaside taverns; and the poet thus continues:

'Now while we did maintain the Fight,
Two French Ships there we sunk down right,
And likewise have we taken Three,
This Crown'd our Work with Victory;
The noble, valiant KILLEGREW,
After the rest do's still pursue.'

And the ballad concludes with the hope--

'That we hereafter may advance
To shake the very Crown of France.'

Possibly it refers to an episode of the fight which may have escaped the notice of the illustrious historian. This much, however, is certain, that the exploits of the British Admiral were caricatured in a street play, probably got up for political purposes.

Admiral Killigrew has been described in the following terms by one G. Wood, his clerk, who sailed with him to the Mediterranean:

'A young man in the flower of his age but a man of great experience
and to add to his experience he's a man of undaunted Courage Prudence
and Conduct, making it his study in all his actions to doe nothing
(though never so much to his own advantage) but that which is truely
honorable and altogeither tending to the honor and advantage of his
King and Country. Hee likewise carry'd his com̄and w^{th} so much
gravity and wisdome that he was both belov'd and fear'd by all y^e
squad^n from y^e highest to y^e lowest; and for his Prudence and
Dilligence in managing of his Ma^{tie's} affairs.... I might inlarge
much more and speak nothing but truth of this hono^{ble} comand^s yett
fear I should be look't upon as a flatterer by those y^t knows him
not.'

Whilst serving in the Mediterranean, in chase of a _Salletine_ frigate, he was severely wounded by the bursting of a gun in his own ship, the splinters breaking both bones of his right leg, and frightfully wounding his head.

I have been unable to ascertain whom Admiral Henry married; but he had a son who bore the same name as himself, and who settled at St. Julian's in Hertfordshire. I think it must have been he who was a Major in Lord Strafford's Royal Regiment of Dragoons, the composition of which corps and the pay of its members are set forth in the Add^l. MSS. 22,231 in the British Museum. It would, however, be uninteresting to trace farther the descent of this branch of the family.

James, the younger brother, when only twenty-one years of age, and unmarried, was killed in a sea engagement off Leghorn, in January 1694/5, on board the _Plymouth_; like Nelson, 'in the arms of victory.'[90] His ship was a fast sailer, and outstripped her companions, so that when Captain James Killigrew came up with the French he had to engage two ships at once, both bigger than his own, one of which, however, he sunk, and the other he took. He sustained the unequal combat, it is said, for four hours. Besides losing his own life, fifty of his men were killed and wounded when the remainder of the British ships at length came up to his assistance. 'Characters like his need no encomium,' observes Charnock. Some accounts attribute cowardice to his comrades on this occasion.

We have now nearly completed our task, and have come to the last of the Killigrews whose history is likely to be entertaining, or instructive. ANNE,

'quæ stabat ubique victrix forma, ingenio, religione,'

as her epitaph (now destroyed) in the chancel of St. John the Baptist, in the Savoy Chapel, once described her;[91] and most gratifying it is to close our account of the Killigrews with the story of this admirable woman.

She was born in 1660, in St. Martin's Lane; and, the Restoration not having then been effected, was (according to Cibber's 'Lives of the Poets') christened in a private chamber, the offices of the Common Prayer-book not being at that time publicly allowed. Early distinguished for her skill in poetry and in painting, and for her learning, taste, and purity of life, for her fame she is not indebted to that which alone would have been sufficient to perpetuate it--I mean Dryden's renowned ode. This, exaggerated as its terms may appear, is nevertheless said, by those who knew her, to be hardly too strongly expressed. Even the ascetic Anthony Wood wrote of her the well-known line,

'A Grace for beauty, and a Muse for wit;'

and he assures us that 'there is nothing spoken of her which she was not equal to, if not superior.' That she was an accomplished artist Dryden's verse records, and that this was a talent possessed by at least one of her ancestors we have seen in the account of Sir Henry Killigrew, the diplomatist; but I am not aware that any of her paintings remain to us; but Walpole saw her portrait by herself, and thought more highly of her painting than of her poetry. The portrait has been admirably engraved in mezzotint by Becket and by Blooteling. She painted James II. and his Queen, as well as several 'history-pieces,' landscapes, and still-life subjects, which Dryden mentions in the poem that Dr. Johnson pronounced 'the noblest ode that our language has produced.' I am aware that Warton somewhat differs from the great critic as to this; but it would be difficult to point to a finer English threnody; and, notwithstanding the probability of its being familiar, if not to all, yet to most of my readers, I venture to think that the reproduction here of such parts as particularly refer to Anne Killigrew may not be unacceptable. The noble strain thus opens:

'Thou youngest virgin daughter of the skies,
Made in the last promotion of the blest:
Whose palms, new plucked from Paradise,
In spreading branches more sublimely rise,
Rich with immortal green, above the rest;
Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star,
Thou roll'st above us in thy wandering race;
Or, in procession fixed and regular,
Mov'st with the heaven's majestic pace;
Or, call'd to more superior bliss,
Thou tread'st, with seraphims, the vast abyss:--
Whatever happy region is thy place,
Cease thy celestial song a little space;
Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine,
Since heaven's eternal year is thine.
Hear then a mortal muse thy praise rehearse,
In no ignoble verse,[92]
But such as thy own voice did practise here,
When thy first fruits of poesy were given,
To make thyself a welcome inmate there;
While yet a young probationer
And candidate of heaven.'

Exaggerated language perhaps, but sincerely meant. And the master of the 'long-resounding line' concludes:

'When in mid-air the golden trump shall sound,
To raise the nations under ground;
When in the Valley of Jehoshaphat,
The judging God shall close the book of fate,
And there the last assizes keep
For those who wake, and those who sleep;--
When rattling bones together fly
From the four corners of the sky;
When sinews o'er the skeletons are spread,
Those clothed with life, and life inspires the dead;
The sacred Poets first shall hear the sound,
And foremost from the tomb shall bound,
For they are covered with the lightest ground;
And straight, with inborn vigour, on the wing,
Like mounting larks, to the new morning sing.
There thou, sweet Saint! before the choir shalt go,
As harbinger of heaven, the way to show,
The way which thou so well hadst learnt below.'

The allusion to the grief of her brother Henry, the Admiral, then at sea, is very fine:

'Meantime her warlike brother on the seas,
His waving streamers to the wind displays,
And vows, for his return, with fond devotion pays.
Ah, generous youth! that wish forbear,--
The winds too soon will waft thee here!
Slack all thy sails! and fear to come;--
Alas! thou know'st not--_thou art wrecked at home_.'

Her skill as a painter he depicts in the following happy lines:

'Her pencil drew whate'er her soul designed,
And oft the happy draught surpass'd the image in her mind.
The sylvan scenes of herds and flocks,
The fruitful plains, and barren rocks;
Of shallow brooks that flowed so clear
The bottom did the top appear:
Of deeper, too, and ampler floods,
Which, as in mirrors, showed the woods:
Of lofty trees with sacred shades,
And perspectives of pleasant glades,
Where nymphs of brightest form appear,
And shaggy satyrs standing near,
Which them at once admire and fear.
The ruins, too, of some majestic piece
Boasting the power of ancient Rome or Greece;
Whose statues, friezes, columns, broken lie,
And, though defaced, the wonder of the eye;
What Nature, Art, bold Fiction e'er durst frame,
Her forming hand gave feature to the name.'

Dryden then alludes to her portraits of the royal family--and first of the King:

'For, not content to express his outward part,
Her hand called out the image of his heart.'

Of his Consort's likeness the poet gracefully observes:

'Our phœnix Queen was pourtrayed, too, so bright,
Beauty alone could beauty take so right.'

And, with a grand hyperbole, the poem ends with the above prediction that at the last day the Poets shall first awake at the sound in mid-air of the golden trump:

'For they are covered with the lightest ground.'

Mistress Anne Killigrew, as the virgin poetess and paintress was called, after the fashion of the time, was, like so many others of her family, attached to the Court. She was Maid of Honour to the Duchess of York; and, even in those loose days, was unspotted by the contaminating influences amongst which she found herself. One other taint, however, she did not escape--the contagion of small-pox, of which horrible malady this 'cynosure' died at her father's prebendal house in the Cloister of Westminster Abbey, on the 16th June, 1685, in the twenty-fifth year of her age.[93]

To her 'Poems,' now a rare book--a thin quarto, which appeared shortly after her death--are prefixed Dryden's ode, and the mezzotint by Becket, after her portrait of herself. Sir Peter Lely also painted her likeness.

It has already been said that none of her paintings remain; but of her poetical powers we may still judge from the following extracts. They will, of course, fall somewhat flat after the lofty lines which have just been cited; yet I venture to think that they will be found worthy of perusal. At any rate, Dryden writes,

'Thy father was transfused into thy blood,
So wert thou born into a tuneful strain;'

and they were at least considered at the time sufficiently good for the insinuation that they were not her own--a calumny to which the gentle Anne replied:

'UPON THE SAYING THAT MY VERSES WERE MADE BY ANOTHER.

* * * * * *

'Th' envious Age, only to Me alone,
Will not allow, what I do write, my Own,
But let 'em rage, and 'gainst a Maide Conspire,
So Deathless Numbers from my Tuneful Lyre
Do ever flow; so Phebus I by thee
Divinely Inspired and possest may be;
I willingly accept Cassandra's Fate,
To speak the Truth, although believ'd too late.'

The following lines also are, I venture to think, far from commonplace:

'AN ODE.

'Arise, my Dove, from midst of Pots arise,
Thy sully'd Habitation leave,
To Dust no longer cleave;
Unworthy they of Heaven that will not view the Skies.
Thy native Beauty reassume,
Prune each neglected Plume
Till, more than Silver white,
Than burnisht Gold more bright,
Thus ever ready stand to take thy Eternal Flight.'

Notwithstanding her modesty, she was not without some confidence that her poetry would survive her, as it has, in fact, already done for two centuries; for thus she wrote her own epitaph:

'When I am Dead, few friends attend my Hearse;
And for a Monument I leave my _Verse_;'

a monument, perhaps, _ære perennium_, and which certainly remains longer than the marble cenotaph which was destroyed by the fire in the Savoy.[94]

Epitaphs, indeed, seem to have had a charm for her, as if she had a foreboding of her early death; and the following lines in praise of Mrs. Phillips may serve for a fair description of herself, and as a finish to these extracts from her compositions:

'Orinda (Albion's and her sex's grace)
Owed not her glory to a beauteous face,
It was her radiant _soul_ that shone within;
Which struck a lustre through her outward skin;
That did her lips and cheeks with roses dye,
Advanced her height, and sparkled in her eye.
Nor did her sex at all obstruct her fame,
But higher 'mong the stars it fixed her name;
What she did write, not only all allowed,
But every laurel to her laurel bowed.'

Perhaps too much has been said of the virtues and graces of this chaste and accomplished lady; but it must be remembered that women such as she were rare in the days in which she lived and wrote. Nor must we forget that we are far removed from the sphere of that _personal_ influence, the attractions of which are so powerful, and which probably contributed in no small degree to the fame of this fair scion of the Killigrews.

It was written on her epitaph, according to Ballard:

'Abi, Viator, et plange,
Si eam plangi oporteat
Cui, tam pié morienti,
Vel Cœlites plauserint.'

Even at this distance of time, it is delightful to think that she left a wicked world and age before a single spot had dimmed the lustre of her widely admired, but unsullied, fame:

'Wearing the white flower of a blameless life.'

FOOTNOTES:

[51] This monument was originally placed on a site which overlooked on the one hand the remains of the family mansion, and on the other the little lake--formerly an arm of the sea, and known in Leland's time as 'Levine Prisklo,'--which was once the well-filled swannery of the Killigrews. It was moved in 1836 to make way for the houses now known as 'Grove Place;' and again in 1871, to its present appropriate site opposite the Arwenack Manor-office.

[52] The town arms of Falmouth, modified of course, are derived from those of Killigrew. The arms of the _Devonshire_ Killigrews are gules, three mascles on. This latter coat appears on some woodwork in St. Budock Church, and on the brass of Thomas Killigrew, to which reference will presently be made.

[53] I am somewhat inclined to think that this _may_ be the Thomas Killigrew who died at Biscay, in Aragon. He married twice--Johanna Herry and Jane Darrell; possibly there may be some mistake in the Christian name of the latter lady. Perhaps the same Thomas who is mentioned in the Journals of Roger Machado, of an embassy to Spain and Portugal, in 1488, as having entertained the traveller, whom stress of weather drove into Falmouth harbour; and as having bequeathed, in the year 1500, one hundred marks for the rebuilding of St. Budock Church. In the autumn of 1882, whilst restoring St. Gluvias Church, the workmen came upon some leaden coffins in good preservation, which were supposed to contain the remains of members of the Killigrew family. The coffins were not opened.

[54] Since doing this I have had the advantage of consulting Colonel J. L. Vivian's elaborate pedigree in his recent annotated edition of the 'Herald's Visitations to the County of Cornwall.'

[55] This lady seems to have been the real heroine of an exploit accredited by Hals to Dame Jane Killigrew, one of her successors (_see post_). Mr. H. Michell Whitley has drawn attention to Hals's mistake, or confusion, in the _Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall_, 1883. But in those high-handed days there may have been more than one culprit, and more than one misdemeanour--and Hals is curiously circumstantial.

[56] Cf. Mr. Howard Fox's article on the 'Lizard Lighthouses,' _Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall_, No. XXII., March, 1880, p. 319. Sir William Killigrew vainly endeavoured to obtain a renewal of the patent in 1631.

[57] Dame Mary Killigrew seems to have been the true heroine of this story. _See ante._

[58] The cup is figured in the _Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall_.

[59] Arwenack is so shown on a chart preserved in the British Museum, and engraved by Lysons in his 'Mag. Brit.' (Cornwall). St. Mawes Castle is shown as half built, Pendennis not yet commenced, and two other works--one at Gillyngvase Bay, the other at Trefusis Point--as _contemplated_. There is another and still finer coloured map, with Lord Burghley's handwriting on it, in the National Collection.

[60] The _negotiations_ for the surrender of Raglan were begun before those for Pendennis. Cf. the Chapter on the Arundells.

[61] Sir Peter measured out the ground for the church, churchyard, and minister's house, on 29th August, 1662. The first sermon was preached in the church on 21st February, 1663, by Mr. John Bedford, of Gerrans, from Genesis xxiii. 20, 'And the field, and the cave that is therein, were made sure unto Abraham for a possession of a buryingplace by the sons of Heth.'

[62] One of the most scathing letters of reproach ever written was addressed by this lady to Rev. Mr. Quarme, the Incumbent of Falmouth, for his ingratitude after Sir Peter's decease. It is preserved amongst the archives in the manor-office at Arwenack.

[63] Probably a descendant of that Erissey whose nimble dancing delighted James I. so much that he inquired what was his name. The King admired the gentleman, but 'liked not his name,' to which some one had possibly prefixed the letter 'h' in pronouncing it. Some remains of the ancient mansion of this old Cornish family are still to be seen on the estate of that name in the parish of Ruan Major: the dates on an old doorway and on some lofty gate-posts are, respectively, 1603 and 1671.

[64] It was this Sir Peter who, finding that, in 1689, Pendennis Castle required some repairs, visited the Collector of Customs at Penryn, at ten o'clock at night, and carried off the Collector and the money (some £200 odd), 'for the good of the King's castle.'

[65] Both their daughters, Frances and Mary, took the name of Killigrew; the former married the Hon. Charles Berkeley, the latter John Merrill, Esq.; but from both marriages there was female issue only.

[66] The young gentleman is apparently Mr. Merrill, subsequently the husband of the Colonel's eldest daughter.

[67] When this letter was written the price of tea was--Bohea, 12s. to 14s.; Pekoe, 18s.; and Hyson, 35s. per lb.

[68] To a copy of a MS. history of the family, written by him in 1737-38, I have been indebted for some interesting particulars.

[69] The statement in _Notes and Queries_ is on the authority of Mr. William Killigrew Wait, who still, I believe, lives in or near Bristol.

[70] He was taken prisoner at Rouen, in Nov. 1562, and, according to Wright's 'Queen Elizabeth and her Times,' was to be 'redeemed for young Pegrillion.' And here it maybe conveniently observed that this work contains Killigrew's letters to Burghley on the state of Scotch affairs--perhaps the most important business which he had to manage in the course of his diplomatic career.

[71] Thus summarized by F. S. Thomas in his 'Historical Notes,' and by other authorities: Ambassador to Scotland, 1566; negotiating in 1569 for fresh ports to be opened in the Baltic; to France, when Walsingham was sick, 1571; Scotland again, 1572, to negotiate for the surrender of Edinburgh Castle; again, 1573; and at Berwick, 1574; in London, 1575, and back to Scotland the same year; in the Low Countries in 1586; and to France with the Earl of Essex, to assist the King of France, in 1591.

[72] Murdin.

[73] According to Froude, there was a Killigrew of Pendennis, who was one of the 500 forlorn hope who cut their way through Guise's lines at Rouen, in October, 1562. On the capture of that place, and after the garrison had been cut down almost to the last man, he was taken, half-dead, but eventually recovered. I cannot help thinking this must be the same Killigrew.

[74] As Cyrus at Thermopylæ, Crassus in Parthia: therefore Alexander had exact maps always about him to observe passages, streights, rocks, plains, rivers, etc.

[75] Another sister, Anne, married Nicholas Bacon, Lord Chancellor, and became the mother of Sir Anthony and of FRANCIS BACON--LORD VERULAM.

[76] When he was called upon in Parliament to profess his adherence to 'The Good Cause,' as the Parliamentarians termed it, Sir Henry bluntly and bravely declared, 'When I see occasion, I will provide a good horse, a good buff coat, and a good pair of pistols: and then I make no question but I shall find a "good cause."' Very shortly after this speech he found it necessary for his safety to leave London for Cornwall, with the results about to be described.

[77] Cf. the chapter on the Arundells for an account of the siege of Pendennis.

[78] It will be seen, further on, that these two families intermarried again; and that the house of Kimberley now represents that of Killigrew.

[79] The first edition, a little duodecimo, was published in 1684, a third edition was published at Winchester (where, it will be remembered, Charles sometimes kept his Court), on 7th Aug., 1686.

[80] 'Selindra,' 'Pandora,' and 'Ormasdes.' Printed in 1665, London, 8vo.

[81] A Thomas Killigrew, whom I cannot quite identify, was in the Queen's Bench prison in 1642-43 on a suspicion of having raised arms against the Parliament.

[82] Women did not appear on the stage until after the Restoration.

[83] About this time we find Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, interceding with the Court on Thomas Killigrew's behalf, for a commission in 'Captaine Morgan's companie, who is dead.'

[84] On April 8th, 1663, at the New Theatre in Drury Lane, the prices of admission were: boxes, 4s.; pit, 2s. 6d.; middle gallery, 1s. 6d.; upper gallery, 1s. The play began at 3 p.m., the prices not so very different from those at present, except that the pit seems to be proportionately dearer. The company at first consisted, so Mr. Froude says, of actors from the old 'Red Bull,' with additions from Rhodes's. Nell Gwynne and Mrs. Knepp (Pepys' Knip) were amongst them. I am indebted to my friend, Dr. G. Fielding Blandford, for the following information as to the site of the building:--'Killigrew converted Charles Gibbons' Tennis Court into a theatre in 1660. It was in Bear Yard, Vere Street, Clare Market, and was opened 8th November, 1660, with the play of "Henry IV." Pepys was there November 20th, and saw the play of "Beggar's Bush," and, for the first time, Mohun (known as Major Mohun), "said to be the best actor in the world." Here (January 3rd, 1661) he, for the first time, saw women on the stage. He calls it in other places the New Theatre, and says "it is the finest playhouse, I believe, that ever was in England." The names of the actors are given in the rate-books of St. Clement Danes for 1663. This theatre is not to be confounded (as it often is) with the one subsequently built in Portugal Row, and known as the Duke's Theatre. This is now the site of the Hunterian Museum. I believe the first theatre of that name only existed a few years.'

[85] As regards the well-known story of his flippant tongue having brought him into collision with Rochester--for which, according to Pepys, Rochester never apologized--it may be observed that Rochester _did_ apologize to Tom's son, Harry, before going to France (7th Report Dep. Keeper of Records, p. 531_a_).

[86] 'It was considered remarkable as being cut out of one stone; and it has been reckoned one of the best pieces of sculpture in the whole church.'--(_Royal Magazine_, 1763, p. 22.)

[87] See Macaulay's review of Lord Mahon's 'War of the Succession.'

[88] The post of Master of the Revels was created in 1546, and, though the salary was small, the office entitled the holder of it to a seat in any part of the theatres. The seal of office, which was engraved on wood, was in the possession of Francis Douce, Esq., F.S.A., in 1815. Cf. 'Chalmer's Apology' (title-page), for the arms of the revels. Much information as to this office will be found in Warton's 'History of Poetry,' ii. 405, iii. 307, note; 'Archæologia,' xv. 225; 'British Critic'; Brand's 'Popular Antiquities,' etc.

[89] It will be remembered that, before Chelsea Hospital was built, Charles II. turned out many of the denizens of the Savoy to make room for the soldiers and sailors wounded in the wars.

[90] He entered the navy on 5th Sept., 1688, and served successively in the _Portsmouth_, the _Sapphire_, the _York_, the _Crown_, and the _Plymouth_.

[91] Ballard says on the north side. Mr. Loftie tells us that it stood on the eastern side of the chapel, not far from the vestry-door and pulpit.

[92] A touching apology for much 'ignoble verse' of Dryden's own majestic muse--

'Licentious satire, song and play.'

Elsewhere in this ode he laments:

'Oh wretched we! why were we hurried down
This lubrique and adulterous age--
Nay, added fat pollutions of our own!'

[93] Mr. Loftie says that the entry in the Savoy Register is dated 15th April, 1685.

[94] Alexander Pendarves, M.P. for Launceston, and first husband of Mary Granville (Mrs. Delaney); Wm. Vivian, 'son and heir of Michael Vivian of Cornwall' (1520); and Richard Lander (the well-known traveller), were other Cornish folk, to whom monuments were erected in the Savoy. The tablets were all destroyed in the fire of 7th July, 1864; but, in the case of Lander, a stained-glass window has been substituted for the destroyed monument.

_RICHARD LANDER_,

THE EXPLORER.

_RICHARD LANDER_,

THE EXPLORER.

'Les fleuves sont de grands chemins qui marchent.'--_Pascal._

The interest which was felt in a portrait of Henry Bone, R.A., which I had the pleasure of presenting to the Royal Institution of Cornwall, induced me to offer for the acceptance of that Society the portraits of two other Truro worthies; which I thought (though the engravings possess no great merit as works of art) might at least serve as reminders of the energy, skill, and determination possessed by two Truro men--half a century ago;[95] and, almost as a matter of course, Richard Lander's name found a place among the Cornish Worthies, whose stories I am attempting to write. I am just old enough to remember the commencement, on the 16th June, 1835, of the erection of the column designed by P. Sambell, jun., to the memory of Richard Lander, which stands at the top of Lemon Street, and (owing to bad workmanship) the fall of a considerable portion of it on the 21st of May, 1836. Amongst other reminiscences I may perhaps also mention that my father has told me that, on the occasion of laying the foundation-stone of the column, he was one of those who formed the procession, and that he and the late Mr. Humphry Willyams, of Carnanton, then led by the hand Richard Lander's child. On that occasion, as on a more recent one of higher importance at Truro, viz., the laying of the foundation-stone of the new Cathedral, the Masonic ceremony was followed by a religious service.

Although generally spoken of as the Brothers Lander, it should be borne in mind that to Richard, the elder brother, the world is mainly indebted for the discovery of the course of the lower portion of 'the lordly Niger' (as Longfellow calls the river). John, the younger brother, had considerable powers of observation and some poetic taste, and was by trade a printer. He accompanied Richard simply from affectionate motives (and certainly without promise of any pecuniary reward), on the _second_ of Richard's three expeditions to Africa, from which the brothers returned safely; but John will appear no further (except incidentally) in the remarks which I have to offer. He was born in 1807, and died in 1839 in consequence of illness contracted during his one voyage to Africa.

_Richard Lemon Lander_, the heroic but unfortunate traveller, whose name will ever be associated with the splendid discovery of the course and termination of that mysterious and fatal river, which some of the ancients confounded with the Nile, and which the Moors of Northern Africa still call 'the Nile of the Negroes,'[96] was the fourth of six children, and was born at his father's house, the 'Dolphin Inn,' Truro (then called 'The Fighting Cocks'), on the 8th February, 1804, the day on which Colonel Lemon was elected M.P. for the town. Hence his second name; and hence also a certain appropriateness in the site which was chosen at the top of Lemon Street for his statue, the work of a Cornish sculptor, the late N. N. Burnard. In the midst of his unfeigned humility in his account of his parents, he nevertheless boasts that, as his father's name began with a _Lan_ and his mother's maiden name (Penrose) with a _Pen_, no one could deny his claim to being a right _Cornishman_. But Colonel J. Lambrick Vivian informs me that Lander came from an older and a better stock than he was himself aware of. The family can be traced, in St. Just at least, as early as 1619, at which time a Richard Lander married Thomasine Bosaverne, one of a good old Cornish family. The Polwheles and Landers also intermarried. Richard's grandfather, a noted wrestler, lived near the Land's End.

Of Lander's early life in Truro I can learn little further than that he went to "old Pascoe's" school in Coomb's Lane, and was one of those few favourites of his master, who was thought worthy to receive one of the then newly-coined 1s. 6d. pieces. Richard seems to have been a merry, bright-eyed lad, somewhat below the usual height,[97] but he was always of a roving, adventurous spirit, and, when only eleven years old, accompanied a merchant to the West Indies, whence, after a residence there of three years, and having been attacked by fever in St. Domingo, he returned to England in 1818, and lived as a servant in various wealthy families, with some of whom he visited the continent of Europe.

In 1823 he went with Major Colebrook (one of the Royal Commissioners of inquiry into the state of the British Colonies) to the Cape of Good Hope, and returned to England in the following year. In 1825, when Captain Clapperton and Major Denham returned from their travels in the interior of Africa, Lander, charmed, as he says, by the very sound of the word 'Africa,' and impelled by his inborn love of adventure, offered to accompany the former officer in a second expedition to that continent, notwithstanding the efforts of all his friends to dissuade him. Amongst these may be mentioned Mr. George Croker Fox, who offered Lander, by way of a counter-temptation, a more lucrative post in South America. However, Lander's proposal was gladly accepted by Clapperton, and the adventurous youngster remained with his employer up to the hour of the Captain's death at Soccatoo, in the interior, in April, 1827. He then made his homeward-way, alone, by land to Badagry on the coast, and arrived at Portsmouth with Clapperton's papers in April, 1828, much debilitated by fevers contracted during his long sojourn in a pestiferous climate.

In the December of the following year Richard Lander published a most entertaining account of his travels, dating the first part of the introduction to the book, 'Truro, Oct. 29th, 1829.' To this work is prefixed his portrait, in his Eastern travelling costume.