Chapter VI: FOURTH DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND, from 1854 to 1865: complete (3)

Thomas Howard, who succeeded his father as Earl of Arundel, Surrey, and Norfolk, &c., had restored to him, and to the heirs male of himself and his father, the dukedom of Norfolk and all the honours belonging to that title. He thus became fifth Duke of Norfolk, a title which has continued without further interruption till the present time. He died unmarried in 1677, when the title and estates passed to his brother Henry, sixth Duke of Norfolk, who had been previously created a peer by the title of Baron Howard of Castle Rising, Earl of Norwich, and Earl Marshal of England. He married, first, Lady Anne Somerset, daughter of the Marquis of Worcester, and by her had issue, two sons and three daughters; and secondly, Grace Bickerton, by whom he had three sons and three daughters. Dying in 1684, he was succeeded by his eldest son, Henry Howard (who had been summoned to Parliament in his father’s lifetime as Baron Mowbray), as seventh Duke of Norfolk, who was one of the supporters of the Prince of Orange. He married the Lady Mary Mordaunt, daughter of the Earl of Peterborough, from whom he was divorced in 1700, but died without issue in 1701, when the title and estates passed to his nephew—

Thomas, eighth Duke of Norfolk, who married Mary, daughter of Sir Nicholas Sherburn, by whom he had no issue; and dying in 1732, was succeeded, as ninth Duke of Norfolk, by his brother Edward, who married, in 1727, Mary Blount, but died without issue in 1777, at the age of ninety-one. The titles and estates then passed to a distant member of the family, his third cousin, Charles Howard, of the Greystocke family, who thus became tenth Duke of Norfolk. He married Catherine, daughter of John Brocholes, Esq., and by her had issue, besides a daughter who died young, one son, Charles, who succeeded him, as eleventh Duke of Norfolk, in 1786.

This nobleman, who was the restorer, or rebuilder, of Arundel Castle—a man of considerable literary and scientific attainments—married, first, Mary Anne Copinger, and second, Frances Scudamore, but had no issue by either. He was succeeded by his relative, Bernard Edward Howard, as twelfth Duke of Norfolk, who, marrying the Lady Elizabeth Belasyse, daughter of Earl Faulconberg (from whom he was divorced), had an only son, Henry Charles, who succeeded him in 1842.

Henry Charles, thirteenth duke, who was born in 1791, married, in 1814, the Lady Charlotte Leveson Gower, daughter of the Duke of Sutherland (she is still living), by whom he had issue, Henry Granville, Earl of Surrey, who succeeded him; Lord Edward George Fitzalan Howard, of Glossop Hall, Derbyshire, created, 1869, “Baron Howard, of Glossop;” Lord Bernard Thomas; and the Ladies Mary Charlotte and Adeliza Matilda. His Grace died in 1856, and was succeeded as fourteenth duke by his eldest son, Henry Granville Fitzalan-Howard (who had assumed, by royal sign-manual, in 1842, the surname of Fitzalan before that of Howard). He married, in 1839, Augusta Mary Minna Catherine, daughter of the first Baron Lyons (she still survives), by whom he had issue, two sons, viz., Henry Fitzalan-Howard, the present Duke of Norfolk, and Lord Edward Bernard Fitzalan-Howard; and seven daughters, viz., the Lady Victoria Alexandrina, born 1840, and married in 1861 to James Robert Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.C.; the Lady Minna Charlotte, born 1843; the Lady Mary Adeliza, born 1845; the Lady Ethelreda, born 1849; the Lady Philippa, born 1852; the Lady Anne, born 1857; and the Lady Margaret, born 1860. During the life of this nobleman, who was universally beloved and respected, her Majesty Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort paid a visit of three days to Arundel Castle, where the reception was kept up with regal magnificence. His Grace died in 1860, and was succeeded by his eldest son, then in his thirteenth year.

The present peer, his Grace Henry Fitzalan-Howard, fifteenth Duke of Norfolk, Earl of Arundel, Earl of Surrey, Earl of Norfolk, Baron Maltravers, Baron Fitzalan, Baron Clun, Baron Oswestry, Premier Duke and Earl next to the blood royal, Hereditary Earl Marshal, and Chief Butler of England, was born on the 27th of December, 1847, and attained his majority in 1868. His grace is unmarried. He is the patron of seven livings; but, “being a Roman Catholic, cannot present.”

The arms of the Duke of Norfolk are—Quarterly: first, _gules_, on a bend between six cross-crosslets, fitchée, _argent_, an escutcheon, _or_, charged with a demi-lion rampant, pierced through the mouth with an arrow, within a double tressure, flory counter-flory, all _gules_, for Howard; second, the arms of England (_gules_, three lions passant guardant, _or_), charged with a label of three points, _argent_, for difference, for Plantagenet; third, chequy, _or_ and _azure_, for Warren; fourth, _gules_, a lion rampant, _argent_, for Mowbray. Crest, on a chapeau _gules_, turned up, _ermine_, a lion statant-guardant, _or_ ducally gorged, _argent_. Behind the arms two marshal’s staves in saltire, _or_, enamelled at each end, _sable_. Supporters:—on the dexter side a lion, _argent_, and on the sinister, a horse of the same, holding in his mouth a slip of oak, fructed, _proper_. The motto is “Sola Virtus Invicta.”

Thus having briefly traced the history of the house of Howard, so far as the main line connected with Arundel Castle is concerned, we turn our attention to some of the many beauties and attractions of the domain of Arundel.

In situation, as a fortress, few sites were so well chosen as that of Arundel Castle. At the southern extremity of the elevated platform on which it stands a strong wall enclosed the inner court, containing upwards of five acres; on the north-east and south-east a precipitous dip of the hill to ninety feet, rendered the castle inaccessible. On the remaining sides a deep _fosse_, protected on the north by a double vallation, and cutting off all external communication in that direction, secured the garrison from any sudden incursion or surprise. In the centre rose the Donjon, or Keep, circular in form, enormous in strength, crowning a lofty artificial mound, and commanding a wide and uninterrupted view of all the neighbouring approaches. “The walls, from eight to ten feet in thickness, enclosed a nearly circular space of more than sixty feet in diameter, and of great height—the apartments being all lit from the central well-staircase, and there being no loopholes in the walls. This Keep—which still stands in all its venerable and hoary age—is supposed to have been built by Alfred the Great, and to have been recased in Norman times, when the present doorway was made. To the same period belongs a portion of the tower near it, and which is connected with the Keep by a covered passage carried across the moat. The Barbican, or Bevis’s Tower, occupying the north-west side of the ditch surrounding the Keep, has also some good Norman features, and it, as well as the Keep covered with luxuriant ivy, and the old entrance, built by Fitzalan, form the most interesting and picturesque portions of the venerable place.”

The entrance to the castle at the present time is at the top of High Street. The approach is enclosed by embattled walls with turrets, and the entrance gateway, surmounted by a portcullis and the arms of Howard, is between two massive embattled towers: of this gateway we give an engraving, taken from the interior. Following the carriage-way, the visitor arrives at the entrance to the grand quadrangle, a massive and lofty arched gateway flanked by two towers. Passing through this gateway the appearance of the castle is grand and imposing. On the right of the gateway is the CHAPEL, and adjoining it is the BARON’S HALL, or Banqueting Chamber; on the south side is the grand, or state entrance; and in the north-east wing is the Library, &c. None of these buildings, however, are of ancient times.

One of the first objects that will be noticed by the visitor is a bas-relief, which occupies a large space in the front wall of the ALFRED SALOON, next to the Great Library. It represents Alfred the Great instituting, or founding, trial by jury—the king himself standing in the centre surrounded by his nobles and people, and delivering a scroll, which he holds in his hand, bearing the words, in Saxon characters, “That man fiœbe gemot on cum Wapentace” (That man, in every hundred (Wapentake), shall find twelve jury). It was designed by Rossi, a sculptor of modern time.

The castle is entered from this quadrangle or court-yard, by the grand entrance, or state entrance, as it is called. This is a fine modern doorway, of Norman design, in a machicolated central tower of three stories in height. Over the doorway is a large central window, on each side of which is a colossal figure of Hospitality and Liberty respectively. Over this again are the arms of the Howards, sculptured, and these again are surmounted by the machicolations, parapet, &c. Immediately on entering this splendid ducal residence, the visitor reaches the GRAND-STAIRCASE leading to its various apartments.

The BARON’S HALL, or BANQUETING CHAMBER, is a remarkably fine, and even gorgeous, apartment. “Its architecture, like that of the chapel, is in the style of the fourteenth century. It is 71 feet in length, by 35 in breadth, lofty in proportion, and, as a whole, produces a striking effect on the spectator.” The roof is of Spanish chestnut, elaborately carved, and the sculptures around the walls and on the windows are of elegant design. The stained-glass windows are, however, “the grand attraction, for in these the story of English freedom is brilliantly told. They are thirteen in number. The great window illustrates the ratification of the great charter by King John, who seems to pause in the act of affixing his signature to the instrument.” Behind him are several prelates, while to his right are the Pope’s Legate and the Archbishop of Dublin, and, to his left, Cardinal Langton. There are also Baron Fitzwalter, the Master of the Knights Templars, the Lord Mayor, and others. In the other windows, which were superbly executed by Eginton, one of the best of our artists in stained glass, are full-length figures of eight barons of the Norfolk family, who aided in procuring the charter—the heads, however, as well as those in the large window, being portraits of members of the Howard family of the beginning of the present century, at which time the windows were executed. On the walls are several fine suits of armour, &c. This magnificent hall was first opened on the 15th of June, 1815, being the 600th anniversary of the signing of the charter.

The GREAT DRAWING-ROOM is a noble apartment, commanding a magnificent and extensive view of the valley of the Arun, and the surrounding country. In it is a large collection of family portraits, among which are Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, vindicating himself (“Sire, he was my crowned king. If the authority of Parliament had placed the crown on that stake, I would have fought for it. Let it place it on your head and you will find me as ready in your defence”) before Henry VII. for the part he took at the battle of Bosworth field; John, Duke of Norfolk, who fell at Bosworth, and who is generally known as “Jocky of Norfolk,” from the rude couplet:—

“Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold”—

which was found written on his gate, as a warning, on the morning when he set out on his fatal expedition; Henry, Earl of Surrey, the great poet of his age, “who was not only the ornament of the court of Henry VIII., which he attended in the capacity of companion to the Duke of Richmond, but of the still more brilliant and chivalrous court of Francis I. His travels on the Continent were those of a scholar and knight-errant; and the vision which he had in Agrippa’s magic mirror of his lady-love, the ‘Fair Geraldine,’ whom he has so nobly perpetuated in verse, excited in him such a transport of enthusiasm, that, at a tournament in Florence, he challenged all who could handle a lance—Turk, Saracen, or cannibal—to dispute against him her claims to the supremacy of beauty, and came off victorious: but the well-known hatred of the tyrant Henry to all the Howards prematurely extinguished this bright promise of excellence, and Surrey, the last victim of the royal murderer, perished on the scaffold at the early age of twenty-seven:”—

“Who has not heard of Surrey’s fame?
His was the hero’s soul of fire,
And his the bard’s immortal name.”

In 1547, he was beheaded on Tower Hill. One of the dark blots on British history, was the execution of this true hero of the pen and sword. The portraits also include those of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk (by Holbein), who was beheaded, and his wife, Mary Fitzalan; Henry Fitzalan; Cardinal Howard; “Belted Will Howard,” of whom we shall speak in our account of Castle Howard; and various other members of this distinguished family.

The DINING-ROOM, formed out of the ancient family chapel, is principally remarkable for its large stained-glass window, the subject of which is the meeting of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba—the heads being portraits of the twelfth duke and his duchess. On each side is respectively the mercy-seat in the tabernacle, and the interior of the tabernacle.

The LIBRARY, the building of which was commenced in 1801, is an apartment of much magnificence. The book-cases and reading-galleries are supported by fifteen columns, wrought out of the richest Spanish mahogany; while the spidered roof displays a beauty of workmanship and delicacy of carving, enriched with fruit-foliage, which have seldom been surpassed. It is divided into several compartments for reading recesses, and communicates with the ALFRED SALOON by folded doors.

The CHAPEL adjoins the Baron’s Hall, and is a chaste and beautiful apartment.

It is not necessary further to describe the interior of the castle; but it will be well to note that a chamber over the inner gateway enjoys the traditionary fame of having been the sleeping-place of the Empress Matilda. It is a low square apartment, and contains a bedstead which the queen is said to have occupied; but, unfortunately for the charm of the tradition, it is some centuries later in date than the time in which she lived.

Under the east end of the castle is a large vault, upwards of 60 feet in length, the massive walls of which are formed of blocks of chalk, strengthened with ribs of stone, and are of about 7 feet in thickness. This vault was used, of course, as a place of safety for prisoners, and a curious instance of escape from it is recorded. It seems that in the year 1404 one John Mot was here confined on a charge of robbery, but contrived to make his escape. Before he could get clear away, his flight was discovered, and he was followed. Finding himself closely pursued, he suddenly turned to the College of the Holy Trinity, and seizing the ring attached to the gate just as his captors were about to lay hands on him, claimed the right of sanctuary. He was, however, forcibly seized, and carried back to prison. Knowledge of the affair reaching the ears of the priests, two of the parties who assisted the constable in making the seizure of Mot were summoned before the bishop, found guilty, and “ordered to make a pilgrimage on foot to the shrine of St. Richard at Chichester, to present an offering there according to their ability, to be cudgelled (_fustigati_) five times through the church of Arundel, and five times to recite the paternoster, ave, and creed, upon their knees before the crucifix of the high altar.” Before the sentence, however, could be carried into execution, the prisoner was wisely restored to the church, the cudgelling was remitted, and offerings of burning tapers were substituted.

A word may be said about the fine old horned owls that at one time gave renown to the Keep—owls of a peculiar breed, and about whom many curious anecdotes have been related. At present, however, they greet the visitors under glass, in cases; but it is understood that some of their progeny are preparing to take the places in life of the old denizens of the time-honoured ruin.

It will be seen that all the inhabited portions of Arundel Castle are of comparatively recent date; they are fitted up with much judgment and taste, but by no means gorgeously. In one of the lesser chambers are hung some modern drawings of great merit and value, by Prout, Hunt, Copley Fielding, David Cox, and other artists of the best days of the British school.[30]

The KEEP is the great attraction of the castle and domain of Arundel. Though now but a picturesque ruin, it has been prominent in all the internal contests of the kingdom, from the days of Alfred the Great to the reign of the third William. To this relic of a remote age the public are freely admitted; and a courteous custodier is always at hand to detail its history, and conduct through its winding and tortuous paths from base to summit.

Dating from a time certainly anterior to the Conquest, before the application of “villainous saltpetre,” it must have been impregnable—commanding the adjacent country on all sides, and rendering the Arun a mere tributary to the will of its lords; it had a large share in controlling the destinies of the kingdom during the several civil wars to which it had been subjected. It remains one of the most picturesque of the ruins that in England recall the memories of battles lost and won, of glories continually claimed and resigned by rival competitors, and of heroes whose mortal parts have been dust from ages so remote that their records are read only in “the dim twilight of tradition.”

The historian, Tierney, states that the Keep probably comprised the principal feature of the Saxon stronghold. It is of a circular formation, and of immense strength. The height from the bottom of the fosse, on the external side, was 70 feet; on the internal, 69; which, with walls and battlements, produced an elevation altogether of 96 feet on the east; 103 on the west. The walls varied from 8 to 10 feet, strengthened by ribs and buttresses. The inner space, which is circular, afforded accommodation to the garrison; in extent it varied from 59 to 67 feet in diameter. In the interior were several chambers, converging towards a subterraneous room in the centre. Differing from other Keeps, it contained no openings or loopholes from which the enemy could be annoyed, and it was only from the ramparts and battlements that the garrison could repel the assaults of the assailant. No traces can be seen of the original Saxon entrance.

Connected with the Keep is, of course, the Well-tower. Bevis’s Tower, the Barbican, is seen immediately underneath, while, at a short distance, is “the Chapel of St. Mary, over the gate.”

The square building, known as the Clock Tower (introduced in the engraving), and through which a vaulted Norman passage leads to the Keep, dates from a period not long after the Conquest; parts of it bear unequivocal marks of so early an origin. The upper portion of the building has been renovated; but the lower portion remains almost as perfect as when completed, as it is said to have been, by the first Earl of Arundel. “The passage abutted to the fosse, and was defended by a portcullis and drawbridge.” A window is pointed out from which, A.D. 1139, the Empress Maud, it is said, “scolded” the King, Stephen, who besieged the castle in which she was a guest.

The CHURCH OF ST. MARTIN forms a portion of the Keep, and some relics of the ancient and venerable structure yet endure. It was the oratory of the garrison, and is “mentioned in Domesday Book as enjoying an annual rent of twelve pence, payable by one of the burgesses of Arundel.” From a window of an early date is obtained a view of the castle immediately beneath; but the prospect of the adjacent country is very beautiful, not only of the fertile land and bountiful river, but of the far-off sea; and hours may be pleasantly and profitably spent on this mount that time has hallowed. In bidding the pleasant theme farewell, we cannot do better than quote the old rhyme:—

“Since William rose, and Harold fell,
There have been counts of Arundel;
And earls old Arundel shall have,
While rivers flow and forests wave.”

It is scarcely necessary to add that the grounds and park are worthy of the castle; they are especially beautiful, varied in hill and dale—the free river at their base—full of magnificently grown trees, and comprise eleven hundred acres, well stocked with deer.

In the park, which was originally the hunting forest of the old Earls of Arundel, will be noticed Hiorn’s Tower—a triangular, turreted building, of about 50 feet in height, and designed as a prospect tower by the architect whose name it bears. Near to it is Pugh-Dean, where, it is said, Bevis, the Great Castellan of Arundel, and his famous horse, “Hirondelle,” are buried. A mound, covered with a clump of Scotch fir-trees, is pointed out as his burial-place. Near this place, too, is the site of the old chapel and hermitage of St. James.

The old bridge over the river Arun was situated a short distance below the present structure. It is first mentioned in the charter which Queen Adeliza granted to the monks of the Priory de Calceto, in which lands for their support, and an allowance of timber for repairs of the bridge, were granted. It was entirely rebuilt in 1724, principally of stone taken from the ruins of the adjoining hospital. In 1831 it was widened and improved.

The CHURCH OF THE HOLY TRINITY. All that remains of this once famous establishment is a square building “enclosing a square yard, partly occupied by cloisters, and partly devoted to other purposes of a monastic establishment.” In it are some splendid monuments to members of the noble families who have owned the place. One of the principal is that of Thomas, Earl of Arundel, and his countess, Beatrix, daughter of John, King of Portugal; and another striking feature is a canopied tomb near the altar.

The CHURCH possesses many highly interesting features, and forms a pleasing object in the landscape, from whichever side it is seen. It is cruciform, and consists of a nave with side aisles, a chancel, and transept; and in the centre rises a low tower, surmounted by a diminutive spire.

The original ecclesiastical foundation was that of the alien priory, or cell, dedicated to St. Nicholas, established by Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Arundel, soon after the Conquest, and subjected to the Benedictine Abbey of Seez, or de Sagio, in Normandy. It consisted only of a prior and three or four monks, who continued to conduct the establishment for nearly three centuries, until the third year of the reign of Richard II., when Richard Fitzalan obtained a licence to extinguish the priory and to found a chantry for the maintenance of a master and twelve secular canons with their officers. Upon this change, it was styled “the Church of the Holy Trinity.” At the suppression, it was endowed with a yearly revenue of £263 14_s._ 9_d._

Being intended as the mausoleum of his family, the founder supplied ample means to enrich it with examples of monumental splendour. The tomb of his son, Thomas Fitzalan, and his wife, Beatrix, daughter of John, King of Portugal, was the earliest of those placed in the church. It is of alabaster, finely sculptured, and was formerly painted and gilt. It contains the effigies of the earl and his lady; at the feet of the earl is a horse, the cognizance of the Fitzalans; and at those of his lady are two lap-dogs. Around, in niches, are small standing figures of ecclesiastics, or pleureurs, with open books, as performing funeral obsequies; and above them as many escutcheons. Other stately tombs are erected to the memory of John Fitzalan and his wife, and Thomas Arundel and his wife, “one of the eyres of Richard Woodevyle, Earl Rivers, sister to Elizabeth, Queen of England, sometime wife to King Edward IV.”

The chapel which contains these monuments is still in a dilapidated state, as was the whole church—“ruinated” during the temporary possession of the Iconoclasts of the Commonwealth—until Henry Charles, Duke of Norfolk, restored it, and put upon it a roof, which it had long been without.

Visitors to Arundel will note near the bridge some ancient ruins. According to the historian, Tierney, they are the remains of the _Maison Dieu_, that owed its origin to the same munificence as the collegiate chapel and church. It formed a quadrangle, which was occupied by the chapel, refectory, and its offices, and the various chambers. There was a cloister round the court-yard. Quoting the statutes, “the establishment,” says Mr. Tierney, “was to consist of twenty poor men, either unmarried or widowers, who, from age, sickness or infirmity, were unable to provide for their own sustenance. They were to be selected from among the most deserving of the surrounding neighbourhood, giving the preference only to the servants or tenants of the founder and his heirs; they were to be men of moral lives and edifying conversation, and were required, as a qualification for their admission, to know the ‘Pater Noster,’ the ‘Ave-Maria,’ and the ‘Credo,’ in Latin.”

These buildings were dismantled at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries, and no doubt suffered much at the time of the siege and sack of Arundel, during the Civil War, by the Parliamentarians under the command of Sir William Waller; in 1724 a large quantity of the materials was used in the building of the bridge, that portion only being rescued which is now seen, and which has been preserved by the Duke of Norfolk because of the interest attached to the once sacred structure.

Arundel, with its many attractions, is barely two hours distant from London, and within half an hour of populous Brighton; yet visits of strangers to the old town and venerable castle are comparatively few.

PENSHURST.

PENSHURST—the “Home” of the Sidneys—the stately Sidneys: stately in their character, in their careers, in their patriotism, in their heroism, in their rectitude, and in their verse—is surely one of the best of the Stately Homes of England to be included in our series. The very name of Penshurst seems to call up associations of no ordinary character connected with that heroic race, and with many of the most stirring incidents of British history. With Penshurst every great name memorable in the Augustan age of England is linked for ever; while its venerable aspect, the solemnity of the surrounding shades, the primitive character of its vicinity, together with its isolated position—away from the haunts of busy men—are in harmony with the memories it awakens.

Here lived the earliest and bravest of the Anglo-Norman knights. Here dwelt the ill-fated Bohuns—the three unhappy Dukes of Buckingham, who perished in succession, one in the field and two on the scaffold. And here flourished the Sidneys! Here, during his few brief years of absence from turmoil in the turbulent countries of Ireland and Wales, resided the elder Sidney, Sir Henry, who, although his fame has been eclipsed by the more dazzling reputation of his gallant son, was in all respects good as well as great—a good soldier, a good subject, a good master, and a good counsellor and actor under circumstances peculiarly perilous. This is the birthplace of “the darling of his time,” the “chiefest jewel of a crown,” the “diamond of the court of Queen Elizabeth.” Here, too, was born—and here was interred the mutilated body of—the “later Sidney:” he who had “set up Marcus Brutus for his pattern,” and perished on the scaffold—a martyr for the “good old cause,” one of the many victims of the meanest and most worthless of his race. With the memories of these three marvellous men—the Sidneys, Henry, Philip, and Algernon—are closely blended those of the worthies of the two most remarkable eras in English history. Who can speak of Penshurst without thinking of Spenser,

(“For Sidney heard him sing, and knew his voice,”)

of Shakspere, of Ben Jonson—the laureate of the place—of Raleigh, the “friend and frequent guest” of Broke, whose proudest boast is recorded on his tomb, that he was “the servant of Queen Elizabeth, the counsellor of King James, and THE FRIEND of Sir Philip Sidney”—of the many other immortal men who made the reign of Elizabeth the glory of all time? Reverting to a period less remote, who can think of Penshurst without speaking of the high spirits of a troubled age—

“The later Sidney, Marvel, Harrington,
Young Vane, and others, who called Milton—friend.”

Although its glory is of the past, and nearly two centuries have intervened between the latest record of its greatness and its present state; although it has been silent all that time—a solemn silence, broken only by the false love-note of an unworthy minstrel, for the names of “Waller” and “Sacharissa” discredit rather than glorify its grey walls—who does not turn to Penshurst as to a refreshing fountain by the wayside of wearying history?

The history of the descent of Penshurst to the Sidneys may be summed up in few words—that of the Sidneys themselves will require greater space. It was “the ancient seat of the Pencestres, or Penchesters, who settled here in Norman times,[31] and one of whom was Sir Stephen, that famous Lord Warden of the Five Ports, and Constable of Dover Castle, who flourished in the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I., and who was a very learned man, and ordered all the muniments, grants, &c., relating to Dover Castle to be written in a fair book, which he called _Castelli Feodarium_, and out of which Darell composed the history of that fortress.” Dying without male issue, his estates were divided between his two daughters and co-heiresses, Joan, wife of Henry Cobham, and Alice, wife of John de Columbers, to the latter of whom fell Penshurst, &c., which was soon afterwards conveyed to Sir John de Poultney, who (15th Edward II.) had license to embattle his mansion houses at Penshurst and elsewhere. He was four times Lord Mayor of London, and, dying, his widow “married Lovaines, and conveyed these estates into that family with consent of her first husband’s immediate heirs;” and they afterwards passed, by an heiress, to Sir Philip St. Clere, whose son sold them to the Regent Duke of Bedford. On his decease in Paris in the reign of Henry VI., Penshurst and other manors passed to his next brother, Humphrey, the “good Duke of Gloucester,” after whose sad death, in 1447, they reverted to the crown, and were, in that same year, granted to the Staffords. On the attainder of Edward, Duke of Buckingham, Penshurst reverted to the Crown.

That brilliant nobleman—whose principal crimes were his wealth, his open, manly, and generous nature, and his wise criticisms of the ruinous expenditure on the “field of the cloth of gold”—was treacherously invited to court by the king, and, suspecting no mischief, he obeyed the summons, and set out on his journey from Thornbury, not observing for some time that he was closely followed by three knights of the king’s body-guard, “and a secret power of servants-at-arms.” His suspicions were first awakened at Windsor, where he lodged for the night, “the same three knights lying close by,” and where he was treated with marked disrespect by the king’s gentleman harbinger. From Windsor, Buckingham rode on to Westminster, and then took his barge to row down to Greenwich, where the court then was, calling, however, on his way, at York House, to see Cardinal Wolsey, who was denied to him. “Well, yet will I drink of my lord cardinal’s wine as I pass,” said the duke: “and then a gentleman of my lord cardinal’s brought the duke with much reverence into the cellar, where the duke drank; but when he saw and perceived no cheer to him was made, he changed colour, and departed.” Passing forward down the Thames, as he neared the City, his barge was hailed and boarded by Sir Henry Marney, captain of the body-guard, who, in the king’s name, attached him as a traitor. He was at once carried on shore and taken through Thames Street to the Tower, “to the great astonishment and regret of the people, to whom he was justly endeared.” This was on the 16th of April, 1521. On the 13th of May he was put on his mock trial and was condemned. “I shall never sue the king for life,” said he; and he kept his word. On the 17th he was executed, without having once supplicated his brutal king to spare the life he was unjustly taking away. “He was as undaunted in sight of the block as he had been before his judges; and he died as brave men die—firmly and meekly, and without bravado.” His death was the grief of the people. “God have mercy on his soul, for he was a most wise and noble prince, and the mirrour of all courtesie”—that was written of him at the time.

By this detestable piece of royal treachery Henry became possessed of the estates of the duke, and held them in his own hands for several years, enlarging Penshurst Park, and reaping benefit from his unhallowed acquisitions. By Edward VI., Penshurst, with its appurtenances, was “granted to Sir Ralph Fane, who, within two years, was executed as an accomplice of the Protector Somerset.”

Soon after this, the young monarch gave Penshurst, with other adjoining estates, to Sir William Sidney, one of the heroes of Flodden Field, “who had been his tutor, chamberlain, and steward of his household from his birth to his coronation.” Thus Penshurst came into the family of the Sidneys, concerning whom we will proceed to give some particulars.

The earliest member of the family of whom aught authentic is known is Sir William Sidney, who lived in the reign of Stephen. His son, Sir Simon (1213), married Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Delamere; and their son again, Sir Roger (1239), married Eleanor, daughter of Sir John Sopham, by whom he had issue two sons, Sir Henry (1268), who succeeded him, and Simon; and a daughter, married to Sir John Wales. Sir Henry Sidney married Maud, daughter of Robert d’Abernon, and granddaughter of Sir John d’Abernon. By her he had issue four sons and two daughters, and was succeeded by his eldest son, Sir Henry Sidney, who, marrying a daughter of Sir Ralph Hussey, died in 1306, and was succeeded by his son, Sir William Sidney, who took to wife Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Richard Ashburnham, by whom he had three sons, viz.: William, who married a daughter of John de Altaripa, but died without heirs male; John, who died young; and another John, who succeeded him, and marrying Helen, daughter of Robert Batisford, was the father, by her, of Sir William Sidney. This Sir William took to wife Joanna, daughter of William Brokhull, who married, first, Margaret Orre, and second, Isabell. By his first wife he had issue two sons, John, who succeeded him, and William (of whom presently). This John Sidney had a son John, who married Isabell Payteuine, by whom he had an only daughter and heiress Johanna, who married William Appesley. William Sydney, by his wife, Alicia, daughter and heiress of John Clumford, had one son, William, and four daughters. This William Sidney married Cicely, daughter and co-heiress of Sir John Michell, and Margaret, his wife, who was daughter and heiress of Matham. He was succeeded by his son, William Sidney, who married twice. By his first wife, Isabell St. John, he had a son, William, whose line ended in co-heiresses, married to William Vuedall and John Hampden; and by his second wife, Thomasen, daughter and heiress of John Barrington, and widow of Lonsford (and who, after Sidney’s death, became wife of Lord Hopton), he had issue a son, Nicholas Sidney, who married Anne, cousin and co-heiress of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.

By her he had a son, Sir William Sidney, who married Anne, daughter of Hugh Pagenham, and by her had, besides Sir Henry, who succeeded him, four daughters, viz.: Frances, who became Countess of Sussex by her marriage to Thomas Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex, Viscount Fitzwalter, Lord Egremont and Burnell, Lord Chamberlain, Knight of the Garter, and one of the Privy Council; Mary, married to Sir William Dormer; Lucy, married to Sir James Harrington; and Anne, married to Sir William Fitzwilliam. This Sir William Sidney was made a knight, 3rd Henry VIII., at the burning of Conquest, and a banneret on Flodden Field, 5th Henry VIII. He was chamberlain to Prince Edward (afterwards Edward VI.), and also steward of his household; and his wife was “governesse of the sayd prince while he was in his nurse’s handes.” To him it was that Penshurst was given by Edward VI. as a mark of affectionate regard. Dying in 1553, he was succeeded by his son, Sir Henry Sidney, who was a Knight of the Garter, Lord President of Wales, and one of the Privy Council; he married Lady Mary, eldest daughter of John, Duke of Northumberland, and by her had issue “the incomparable” Sir Philip, and two other sons, Robert and Thomas, and a daughter, Mary, married to Henry Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. This Henry Sidney was knighted, 3rd Edward VI., and was, when only twenty-two years of age, sent by that amiable young monarch as ambassador to the French court. Under Queen Mary he was Lord Treasurer of Ireland, and Lord Chief Justice, and under Elizabeth was, in 1564, made Lord President of the Council in the Marches of Wales; Knight of the Garter in 1564; and was twice Lord Deputy of Ireland and Lord President of Wales.

Sir Henry Sidney had been brought up and educated with Edward VI., “being companion and many times the bedfellow of the prince;” and that young king died in his arms. This death so affected Sir Henry, “that he returned to Penshurst to indulge his melancholy. Here he soon afterwards sheltered the ruined family of his father-in-law, the Duke of Northumberland, in whose fall he would in all probability have been implicated but for his retirement.” He died at Ludlow, the seat of his government, in 1586—his heart being there buried, but his body was interred with great solemnity, by the queen’s order, at Penshurst. The concurring testimony of all historians and biographers, such as Camden, Sir Richard Cox, Campian (in his “History of Ireland”), Hollinshed, Anthony-à-Wood, and Lloyd (in his “State Worthies”), proves the extraordinary courage, abilities, and virtue of Sir Henry Sidney. These qualities made him the most direct and clear politician. He seems to have been incapable of intrigue and the supple arts of the court. “His dispatches are full, open, and manly; and Ireland, and perhaps Wales, to this day experience the good effects of his wise government.”

“As the father was, so was the son;” the son being Sir Philip Sidney, to whom we have alluded. Sir Philip was born at Penshurst, November 29th, 1554. His life was one scene of romance from its commencement to its close. His early years were spent in travel; and on his return he was married to the daughter of Sir Francis Walsingham, a lady of many accomplishments, and of “extraordinary handsomeness,” but his heart was given to another. The Lady Penelope Devereux won it, and kept it till he fell on the field of Zutphen. Family regards had forbidden their marriage, but she was united to the immortal part of him, and that contract has not yet been dissolved. She is still the Philoclea of the “Arcadia,” and Stella in the poems of “Astrophel.” It is unnecessary to follow in detail the course of Sir Philip Sidney’s life. There is no strange inconsistency to reason off, no stain to clear, no blame to talk away.

We describe it when we name his accomplishments; we remember it as we would a dream of uninterrupted glory. His learning, his beauty, his chivalry, his grace, shed a lustre on the most glorious reign recorded in the English annals. England herself, “by reason of the widespread fame of Sir Philip Sidney,” rose exalted in the eyes of foreign nations—he was the idol, the darling of his own. For with every sort of power at his command, it was his creed to think all vain but affection and honour, and to hold the simplest and cheapest pleasures the truest and most precious. The only displeasure he ever incurred at court was when he vindicated the rights and independence of English commoners in his own gallant person against the arrogance of English nobles in the person of the Earl of Oxford. For a time, then, he retired from the court, and sought rest in his loved simplicity. He went to Wilton; and there, for the amusement of his dear sister, Mary, Countess of Pembroke, he wrote, between the years 1579 and 1581, the “Arcadia,” a work whose strange fortune it has been to be too highly valued in one age, and far too underrated in another. Immediately after its publication it was received with unbounded applause. “From it was taken the language of compliment and love; it gave a tinge of similitude to the colloquial and courtly dialect of the time; and from thence its influence was communicated to the lucubrations of the poet, the historian, and the divine.” The book is a mixture of what has been termed the heroic and the pastoral romance, interspersed with interludes and episodes, and details the various and marvellous adventures of two friends, Musidorus and Pyrocles. It was not intended to be published to the world, but was written merely to pleasure the Countess of Pembroke—“a principal ornament to the family of the Sidneys.” The famous epitaph, usually ascribed to the pen of Ben Jonson, though in reality, it appears, written by William Browne, the author of “Britannia’s Pastorals,” and preserved in a MS. volume of his poems in the Lansdowne Collection in the British Museum, although so well known, will bear repeating here:—

“Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
_Sidney’s_ sister! _Pembroke’s_ mother
Death, ere thou hast slain another
Fair, and learn’d, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee!
Marble piles let no man raise
To her name for after-days;
Some kind woman, born as she,
Reading this, like Niobe,
Shall turn marble, and become
Both her mourner and her tomb.”

Again, however, Sidney returned to court, and his queen seized every opportunity to do him honour. He received her smiles with the same high and manly gallantry, the same plain and simple boldness, with which he had taken her frowns. In the end, Elizabeth, who, to preserve this “jewel of her crown,” had forcibly laid hands on him when he projected a voyage to America with Sir Francis Drake, and placed her veto on his quitting England when he was offered the crown of Poland, could not restrain his bravery in battle when circumstances called him there. At Zutphen, on the 22nd of September, 1586, he received a mortal wound; and here occurred the touching incident to which, perhaps, more than to any other circumstance, Sir Philip is indebted for his heroic fame. It is thus related by his friend and biographer, Fulke Greville, Lord Broke:—“In his sad progress, passing along by the rest of the army, where his uncle, the general, was, and being thirsty from excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which was presently brought him; but, as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had been wounded at the same time, ghastly, casting up his eyes at the bottle; which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his head before he drank, and delivered to the poor man with these words: ‘Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.’ He lived in great pain for many days after he was wounded, and died on the 17th of October, 1586.” The close of his life affords a beautiful lesson. “Calmly and steadily he awaited the approach of death. His prayers were long and fervent; his bearing was indeed that of a Christian hero.” He had a noble funeral; kings clad themselves in garments of grief: a whole people grieved for the loss of the most accomplished scholar, the most graceful courtier, the best soldier, and the worthiest man of the country and the age. He was buried in state, in the old Cathedral of St. Paul, on the 16th of February. Both Universities composed verses to his memory, and so general was the mourning for him, that, “for many months after his death, it was accounted indecent for any gentleman of quality to appear at court or in the city in any light or gaudy apparel.”

We may place implicit faith in the testimony of the contemporaries of Sir Philip Sidney; and by all of them he is described as very near perfection. Their praises must have been as sincere as they were hearty; for his fortune was too poor to furnish him with the means to purchase them with other than gifts of kindly zeal, affectionate sympathy, cordial advice, and generous recommendations to more prosperous men. From Spenser himself we learn that Sidney

“First did lift my muse out of the floor.”

In his dedication of the “Ruins of Time” to Sidney’s sister, he speaks of her brother as “the hope of all learned men, and the patron of my young muse.” “He was,” writes Camden, “the great glory of his family, the great hope of mankind, the most lively pattern of virtue, and the darling of the learned world.”

Sir Philip, dying without issue, was succeeded by his brother, Sir Robert Sidney, who was created Lord Sidney of Penshurst, and afterwards Viscount Lisle and Earl of Leicester, and a Knight of the Garter, by James I. He died at Penshurst in July, 1626, and was succeeded in his title and estates by his son, Robert, as second Earl of Leicester. This nobleman was “several times ambassador to foreign courts, and in 1641 was appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, but, through some unfounded aspersions cast against his fidelity and honour, he was never permitted to seat himself in his new station, and was ultimately dispossessed of it.” He retired in disgust to Penshurst, where he spent his time in literary retirement, for he was well read in the classics, and spoke Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish, and purchased most of the curious books in those languages, “and several learned men made him presents of their works.” He remained in retirement at Penshurst during the domination of the Parliament and the rule of the Protector, and died there in November, 1677, in the eighty-second year of his age. His lordship, who married the Lady Dorothea Percy, had fourteen children, six sons and eight daughters. His eldest son, Philip, succeeded to the title and estates, and lived in troubled times the life of an easy gentleman. Not so the second son, Algernon, the famous scion of the Sidneys, whose name is scarcely less renowned in history than that of his great-uncle, Sir Philip. Of the daughters, Lady Dorothea became Countess of Sunderland, and she was the famous “Sacharissa” of the poet Waller. Waller wooed her in vain; she estimated the frivolous poet at his true value. He called her “Sacharissa—a name, as he used to say pleasantly, derived from _saccharum_, sugar.” Sacharissa and her lover met long after the spring of life, and on her asking him “when he would write such fine verses on her again?” the poet ungallantly replied, “Oh, madam, when you are as young again!” Algernon Sidney was born at Penshurst, in 1621. He had scarcely reached the age of manhood when he was called upon to play his part in the mighty drama then acting before the world. He joined the Parliament, and became a busy soldier—serving with repute in Ireland, where he was “some time Lieutenant-General of the Horse and Governor of Dublin,” until Cromwell assumed the position of a sovereign, when Sidney retired in disgust to the family seat in Kent, and began to write his celebrated “Discourses on Government.” At the Restoration he was abroad, and “being so noted a republican,” thought it unsafe to return to England; for seventeen years after this event he was a wanderer throughout Europe, suffering severe privations, “exposed (according to his own words) to all those troubles, inconveniences, and mischiefs into which they are liable who have nothing to subsist upon, in a place farre from home, wheare no assistance can possibly be expected, and wheare I am known to be of a quality which makes all lowe and meane wayes of living shamefull and detestible.” The school of adversity failed to subdue the proud spirit of the republican; and on his return to his native country, 1677, at the entreaty of his father, “who desired to see him before he died,” the “later Sidney” became a marked man, whom the depraved Charles and his minions were resolved to sacrifice. He was accused of high treason, implicated in the notorious Rye House Plot, carried through a form of trial on the 21st of November, and beheaded on Tower Hill on the 8th of December, 1683. His execution was a judicial murder.

Philip, third earl, lived to a great age, eighty-two, and dying in 1696, was succeeded by his grandson, John, who, dying unmarried, was succeeded successively by two of his brothers; the last earl, Jocelyn, died in 1748, without any legitimate issue. He, however, left a natural daughter, afterwards married to Mr. Streatfield, to whom he devised the whole of his estates. His next elder brother, Colonel Thomas Sidney, who died before him, had, however, left two daughters, to whom the estate properly devolved as co-heiresses; and after a long course of litigation their right was established, and the guardians of the young lady found it necessary to consent to a compromise (sanctioned by Act of Parliament) with the husbands of the two co-heiresses. In the division of the property, Penshurst passed to the younger of the co-heiresses, Elizabeth, wife of William Perry, Esq. (who assumed the name of Sidney), of Turville Park, Buckinghamshire, who repaired the mansion, and added to its collection of pictures. He died in 1757, and his widow, Mrs. Perry-Sidney, was left in sole possession. This lady, after the death of her elder sister, Lady Sherrard, purchased most of the family estates which had fallen to that lady’s share. A claim to the estates and title of Earl of Leicester was made by a son of the countess of the last earl (Jocelyn), born after her separation from her husband, but was unsuccessful.

Mrs. Perry-Sidney had an only son, Algernon Perry-Sidney, who died during her lifetime, but left two daughters, his and her co-heiresses, to the elder of whom, Elizabeth, who was married to Bysshe Shelley, Esq., Penshurst passed. Their son, Sir John Shelley Sidney, Bart., inherited Penshurst and the manors and estates in Kent; he was created a baronet in 1818. He was succeeded as second baronet by his son, Sir Philip Charles Sidney, D.C.L., G.C.H., &c., who was an equerry to the king. He was born in 1800, and in 1825 married the Lady Sophia Fitzclarence, one of the daughters of his Majesty King William IV. and Mrs. Jordan, and sister to the Earl of Munster. In 1835 he was raised to the peerage by William IV., by the title of Baron de L’Isle and Dudley. By his wife, the Lady Sophia Fitzclarence (who died in 1837), his lordship had issue one son, the present peer, and three daughters, the Honourable Adelaide Augusta Wilhelmina, married to her cousin, the Honourable Frederick Charles George Fitzclarence (who has assumed the name of Hunlocke), son of the first Earl of Munster; the Honourable Ernestine Wellington, married to Philip Percival, Esq.; and the Honourable Sophia Philippa.

The present noble owner of Penshurst, Philip Sidney, second Baron de L’Isle and Dudley, and a baronet, was born in 1828. He was educated at Eton, and was an officer in the Royal Horse Guards. He is a Deputy-Lieutenant of Kent and of Yorkshire, and Hereditary Visitor of Sidney-Sussex College, Cambridge. His lordship, who succeeded his father in 1851, married, in 1850, Mary, only daughter of Sir William Foulis, Bart., of Ingleby Manor, and has issue living, by her, four sons, the Honourable Philip, the heir-presumptive to the title, born 1853; the Honourable Algernon, born 1854: the Honourable Henry, born 1858; and the Honourable William, born 1859; and one daughter, the Honourable Mary Sophia, born 1851.

The arms of Lord de L’Isle and Dudley are, quarterly, first and fourth, _or_, a phoon, _azure_, for Sidney; second and third, _sable_, on a fesse engrailed, between three whelk shells, _or_, a mullet for difference, for Shelley. Crests, first, a porcupine, statant, _azure_, quills collar and chain, _or_, for Sidney; second, a griffin’s head erased, _argent_, ducally gorged, _or_, for Shelley. Supporters, dexter, a porcupine, _azure_, quills collar and chain, _or_; sinister, a lion, queue fourchée, _vert_. Motto: “Quo Fata Vocant.”