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TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES

Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine
Cumrriinos Sciiooi of Veterinary iVIedicine at
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EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS

BIOGRAPHY

MARGARET, DUCHESS OF NEW-
CASTLE: LIFE OF THE DUKE,
MEMOIRS OF HER OWN LIFE
& CERTAIN SOCIABLE LETTERS

THIS IS NO. 722 OF SFE'HXMt/iDi^S

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^

^1

§l<fi)F

EM^^ME]

IBE

THE LIFE S^the
(l?t) DUKE OF
NEWCASTLE

& OtherWritin^s

bj MARGARET
DUCHESSofo?

LONDON ©" J^ORONTO
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INTRODUCTION

It is Elia who ought to say grace for " Margaret New-
castle," as he called her, since to him she owes her wider
fame. She was in his regard the thrice noble, the
princely, the "original-brained"; something far other
than the "Mad Duchess" of the Court of Charles II.,
and the extravagant dame in a just-au-corps of Pepys.
Elia's praise of her occurs in three of his essays, and first,
in " The Two Races of Men," where he speaks of her
letters. He has been alluding to Coleridge, alias Comber-
batch, who is the type of the one race, the men who
borrow, " matchless in his depredations " at that. "To
lose a volume to C," says Lamb, " carries some sense
and meaning in it. You are sure that he will make one
hearty meal on your viands, if he can give no account of
the platter after it. But what moved thee, wayward,
spiteful K.^ to be so importunate to carry off with thee,
in spite of tears and adjurations to thee to forbear, the
letters of that princely woman, the thrice noble Margaret
Newcastle ? — knowing at the time, and knowing that
I knew also, thou most assuredly would'st never turn
over one leaf of the illustrious folio — what but the mere
spirit of contradiction, and childish love of getting the
better of thy friend ? — ^Then worst cut of all ! to trans-
port it with thee to the Galilean land :

' Unworthy land to harbour such a sweetness,
A virtue in which all ennobhng thoughts dwelt,
Pure thoughts, kind thoughts, high thoughts, her sex's wonder! '

— hadst thou not thy play-books, and books of jests and
fancies, about thee, to keep thee merry, even as thou
keepest all companies with thy quips and mirthful tales ?

1 James Kenny the playwright.

vii *

viii The Duchess of Newcastle

— Child of the Green-room, it was unkindly done of
thee."

And in the essay on Mackery End, writing of Bridget
Elia, and speaking of her native disrelish for anything
odd or out of the common, Lamb says: " I can pardon
her blindness to the beautiful obliquities of the Religio
Medici; but she must apologise to me for certain dis-
respectful insinuations, which she has been pleased to
throw out latterly touching the intellectuals of a dear
favourite of mine, of the last century but one, — the
thrice noble, chaste and virtuous, — but again somewhat
fantastical and original - brained, generous Margaret
Newcastle."

Again in the Last Essays of Elia his " Detached
Thoughts on Books and Reading " bring him back to
the Life. Certain kinds of books, he says, the perpetu-
ally self-reproductive volumes — we see them individually
perish with less regret, because we know the copies of
them to be eterne. But where a book is at once both
good and rare — ^where the individual is almost the
species, and when that perishes:

We know not where is that Promethean torch
That can its light relumine —

Such a book, for instance, as the Life of the Duke of
Newcastle, by his Duchess — no casket is rich enough, no
casing suf&ciently durable, to honour and keep safe such
a jewel."

To turn from her book to the Duchess herself, — she
was the youngest daughter of a gentleman of estate,
Sir Thomas Lucas, who like her husband, though for a
different cause, spent some years in exile. He was of
a good Essex family — not quite as old in the roll as she
maintained, — with a country seat at St. John's, near
Colchester. The date of her birth may be fixed about
1625-6, to judge by sundry references in her own pages,
which tend always to the congenial topic of her own
feelings and affairs. For Margaret Newcastle is among
the self -confessors of literature, and she is never so happy
as when she is following her mood or writing about her

Introduction ix

dealings with " the great merchant " as she calls the
world. It is a delightful picture she gives in her Memoirs
of the circle at St. John's, in which she grew up; suggest-
ing one of those English groups painted by Lely's suc-
cessors with daughters like the graces, blooming and
summer-coloured, and a mother hardly less youthful
in her middle-aged comeliness. But one of the daughters
should in this case hold a book in her hand, and this is
Margaret Lucas, the youngest.

" You desired me," she says in one place, " to send
you the sixteen books I writ in my childhood ; methinks
they sound hke the twelve labours of Hercules, only
that there are Four Labours more ... In my sixteen
books is sense and no sense, knowledge and ignorance,
mingled together, so that you will not know what to
make of it. . . . Neither can you read them when you
have them, unless you have the art or gift to read un-
known letters, for the letters are not only unlegible, but
each letter stands so cowardly from the other, as all
the lines of your sight cannot draw or bring them into
words. Moreover there are such huge blots as I may
similize them to broad seas or vast mountains. . . .
Also there are long hard scratches, which will be as
bad for your eyes as long stony lanes would be to your
feet. Let me tell you my sixteen books will be as
tedious, troublesome, and dangerous to your under-
standing as the dry deep sandy and barren deserts of
Arabia to travellers."

She was by her own account a moody self-absorbed
child, who needed to live among those who knew her
and would indulge her in her solitary moods, whims, and
awkwardness. Her ambition led her time after time,
it is true, out of herself, only to recoil when she found
that the outer world was not so easy to manage as the
inner. So on one occasion she tells us that young people
should be sent out to know the world, that they may see
men and manners, and observe creatures, customs, and
ceremonies; and at another that young women should
not be sent to boarding schools, because of the danger
of their learning from one another " craft, dissembling

X The Duchess of Newcastle

fraud, spite, slander, and the like." To a boarding
school she never went, but she did go to court as maid-
of-honour to the Queen, Henrietta Maria. The court
was then at Oxford; in 1643 to be exact. The episode,
as she narrates it in the Memoirs, suggests again her
home-bred temper and her unfitness for court life: " It
is better to live with love than with state, . . . with
wit than with company," runs one of her aphorisms.
If we would add a further single portrait to the family-
group of Lady Lucas and her daughters, we might do so
by recalling her lines in a Lady Dressed by Youth, which
fits very well her fancy-sketch of herself:

" As lace her bashfiil eyelids downward hung:
A modest countenance o'er her face was flung:
Blushes, as coral beads, she strung to wear
About her neck, and pendants for each ear;

• ••«•••

Thus drest, to Fame's great court straightways she went
To dance a brawl with Youth, Love; Mirth, Content.

After two years of intermitted Court life, she was
fortunate enough to meet at Paris with the famous
exile destined to be her husband — William Cavendish,
who was at that time Marquis of Newcastle-on-Tyne.
The Marquis was a man of fifty-three, a widower; one
whose story made him a personage of extraordinary
interest to such as herself. It appears that his curiosity,
along with a certain chivalrous feeling for Margaret
Lucas, had been aroused by her brother, " the Lord
Lucas," as she terms him in the Life. Professor Firth
cites Evelyn's Diary to show that they were married
in Sir Richard Browne's Chapel at Paris.

A good deal has to be added, and something has to be
taken away, before her after account of the Duke's life
can be tied to the real events in which he had taken
part. She over-estimated his effect both as soldier and
author. She says of him as a soldier ; that in all actions
where he was "in person himself," he was victorious;
whatsoever was lost happened in his absence, and was
caused either by the treachery or negligence and care-
lessness of his officers. Again in one dedication she speaks

Introduction xi

of his valour and prudence ; and in another of his truth
and generosity, reason and knowledge. Hers was the
girl's devotion to a veteran or great soldier:

" And to his honour and vahant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate."

She did it the more enthusiastically because she knew
his generalship in the northern campaign had been
badly criticised and his flight from England made to
look ugly. When we recount the brilliant chapter,
abruptly ended, in which he figured in the Civil War,
we have to admit that wounded vanity and a fear of
laughter may be as dangerous to a man's career as
physical cowardice. Clarendon's History of the Rebellion
and Rupert's Diary leave the case against the Marquis
of Newcastle at an acute angle; and it only remains for
us to learn how much to heart he and the Duchess took
the criticism levelled at him. " 'Tis the life of their
fame and death of their name that honourable and
valiant men so much love and fear," she says in her
funeral oration for a general.

Clarendon sums up the Marquis (as he then was) in a
passage often quoted,^ which is a necessary footnote
to the Life. It cannot be denied, he had already said,
that the Earl of Newcastle, by his rapid winter march
with his troops, had saved the city of York from the
rebels when they had it in their grasp. " He liked the
pomp and absolute authority of a general well," Claren-
don continues, " and preserved the dignity of it to the
full. . . . But the substantial part and fatigue, he did
not in any degree understand (being utterly unac-
quainted with war); " the more tedious matters of
detail he left to General King. We are told of his
invincible courage and his fearlessness in danger, and
his " exposing himself notoriously, which did sometimes
change the fortune of the day when his troops began to
give ground." But, and here lies the plain clue to his
failure, he was that most deadly of all things in war, a
dilettante. " Such articles of action were no sooner

^viii, 85.

xii The Duchess of Newcastle

over than he retired to his delightful company, music,
and to his softer pleasures, to all which he was so
indulgent, and to his ease, that he would not be inter-
rupted upon what occasion soever; insomuch as he
sometimes denied admission to the chiefest officers of
the army, even to General King himself, for two days
together; from whence many inconveniences fell out.''

One cannot help recalling a scene in the Duke's play,
The Triumphant Widow or the Medley of Humours, which
fits this context. It is in fact " a drunken scene," so
labelled, in which a Colonel, Sir John Noddy and Justice
Spoilwit among others take part:

..." Now you talk of a drum," says Sir John,
" the Devil take me, 'twas a drummer I spoke of." . . .
(He had just spoken of one who was " the wittiest man I
ever met with in my life.")

" What, a drummer a witty man ? " says the Colonel.

Sir John. Ay, the wittiest rogue, my intimate friend.
I call him Tom, and he calls me Jack; for all I am a
knight. He can break a jest upon his Drum would
make you split your sides. . . . He will purr upon the
vellum, and then rap upon the wood, makes all the
people laugh; and forty other excellent qualities. He
is the best company in the world, he will act anything
in the world. He will act a stubble goose flying over
a gutter; he will act a company of hogs justling in straw
for room. But he was an old dog at a parrot and a
turkey-cock.

Justice. This is a rare man indeed.

Sir John. Oh, this is nothing. Why, as well as living
creatures, he would act anything that had not life in it —
as a pig upon the spit. Nay, I have seen him act a
windmill.

Colonel. A windmill!

Sir John. A windmill; anything in the world, a
weathercock, a cart-wheel ungreased, a door off the
hinges! . . .

The last of his accomplishments may be omitted from
our polite pages although it was in effect lyrical.

There are reminiscent touches of two famous play-

Introduction xiii

Wrights in this lively scene; but it is the evidence it
brings of the Duke's taste for humours, in both senses,
that counts first. In fact he was too mercurial in
temperament to be a perfect general much less a com-
mander of the King's forces. Of his personal charm, his
spirit, wit, physical strength and prowess, we know by
the tributes paid to him. As a young man, he was like
another Dion for his combined grace and promise.

Sir Henry Wotton in a letter (May 9, 1612) ^ speaks
of the ItaUan journey when young Cavendish was in his
train: " . . . at Troyes I rested a day and a half upon
a little indispisition William Cavendish had contracted,
. . . being loath to leave so sweet an ornament of my
journey, and a gentleman himself of so excellent nature
and institution." Add Ben Jonson's epigram in which
he describes the earl's fencing:

"... Give me mettled fire
That trembles in the blaze, but then mounts higher!
A quick and dazzling motion; when a pair
Of bodies meet Uke rarefied air;
Their weapons darted with that flame and force
As they outdid the lightning in the course."

This were a sight " to draw wonder to valour," he
says. But the higher courage still is the earl's, the law
of daring not to do a wrong, and that of not minding
the wrongs done to him by others,

" AH this, my lord, is valour: this is yours,
And was yoiu: father's, all your ancestors,
Who durst live great 'mongst all the colds and heats
Of human life; as all the frosts and sweats
Of fortune, when or death appear' d, or bands;
And valiant were, with or without their hands."

This was a noble compliment, in the grand style ; but
we ought to remember that the poet had reason to let
his imagination go on this occasion. For the young earl
had, with an eye to royal preferment, speculated ;^20,ooo
in two masques of Ben Jonson — Love's Welcome at
Welbeck and Love's Welcome at Bolsover, in 1633 and
1634. "I have hurt my estate," he confessed after-

^ Life and Letters of Sir Henry Wotton, by Logan PearsaU Smith,
vol. ii. p. 4.

xiv The Duchess of Newcastle

wards; but the speculation if Civil War had not come
would not have been an unprofitable one." The Life
by the Duchess tells us how splendid these King-and-
Queen's entertainments were, and how costly. Possibly
she had them in mind when she wrote afterwards of
Hospitality and the small return to be got by its lavish
displays. " So much kindness of a kind, and so much
good nature, good cheer begets," she says, " yet it will
last no longer than the meat sticks in the teeth." . . .

Her lord's later career, during and after his period of
exile, is told with a certain stately fidelity in the Life.
Her feeling for the court was very much his own, when
his energies had grown less, and the whole fashion and
temper of society had changed with the Restoration.
In her play. Love's Adventures, the Duchess makes her
hero, Lord Singularity, say, " I had rather march ten
miles with an Artillery, than travel one with a Court;
and I had rather fight a battel, than be bound to cere-
mony or flattery, which must be practised if one lives
at Court." To which the heroine, who is simply her-
self in a twin disguise, responds: " I think they are the
most happiest, that are least acquainted with a great
Monarch's Court." Whether or no she was a good mate
to her lord in his efforts to retrench, and build up again
his fallen fortunes, may be argued both ways. She tells
us in her letters that she was too much wrapt up in her
ideas and the business of getting them set down before
their savour was gone, to give much of her time to her
maids and her housekeeping.

The most tell-tale ghmpses of their life abroad to be
got outside her two memoirs are to be had in the letters
reprinted at the end of this volume. A more stately
commentary upon the Duke's doings in exile, as a
chevalier par excellence lies in his amazing great folio on
horsemanship and the art of training horses, which he
wrote in English and had translated into French, and
published with lavish extravagance at Antwerp. It
cost ;;^I300, a huge sum for those days, and two friends
helped him to print and publish the work.

The original French title runs, when somewhat

Introduction xv

abbreviated: La Methode Nouvelle . . . de dresser les
Chevaux les travailler selon la Nature, . . . par Le tres-
noble, haul et ires-puissant Prince Guillaume Marquis et
Comte de Newcastle. . . . Anvers, 1868. If the author's
portrait appears once in its pages, it appears a hun-
dred times. In one of several frontispieces, a double-
page cartoon, we see him seated within a chariot drawn
by centaurs, with a circle of twent}?- superb horses
kneeling and worshipping him; another shows him
flying on horseback through the air, with eleven steeds
rampant.

He did not give up his horsemanship on his return
home. Since his banishment, said his wife, he set up a
race of horses instead of those he lost by the wars ; and
often he used " to ride through his park to see his breed."
The companion piece to this is that of the Duchess
expected at Court, as Pepys sketched her in his Diary,
April nth, 1667:

' ' To White Hall, thinking there to have seen the Duchess
of Newcastle's coming this night to Court, to make a visit
to the Queen, the King having been with her yesterday,
to make her a visit since her coming to town. The whole
story of thisladyis a romance, and all shedoes is romantic.
Her footmen in velvet coats, and herself in an antique
dress, as they say; and was the other day at her own
play. The Humourous Lovers; the most ridiculous thing
that ever was wrote, but yet she and her Lord mightily
pleased with it; and she, at the end, made her respects
to the players from her box, and did give them thanks.
There is as much expectation of her coming to Court,
that so people may come to see her, as if it were the
Queen of Sheba; but I lost my labour, for she did not
come this night."

He was more fortunate a few days later in the same
month; for we have the following entiy on the 26th:

"Met my Lady Newcastle going with her coachmen and
footmen all in velvet: herself, whom I i^ever saw before,
as I have heard her often described, for all the town-talk
is now-a-days of her extravagancies, with her velvet-
cap, her hair about her ears; many black patches.

xvi The Duchess of Newcastle

because of pimples about her mouth; naked-necked,
without any thing about it, and a black just-au-corps.
She seemed to me a very comely woman : but I hope to
see more of her on May-day."

And on May-day (the same upon which he saw Nell
Gwynn in Drur^'- Lane) he had at least a sensation of
her in black-and-white:

" Thence Sir W. Pen and I in his coach, Tibume way,
into the Park, where a horrid dust, and number of
coaches, without pleasure or order. That which we,
and almost all went for, was to see my Lady Newcastle;
which we could not, she being followed and crowded
upon by coaches all the way she went, that nobody
could come near her; only I could see she was in a
large black coach, adorned with silver instead of gold,
and so white curtains, and every thing black and white,
and herself in her cap."

We see by these accounts that she was something of
a nine days' wonder, and a prodigy. The Court half
wondered, half laughed at her preciosity, her strange
garments and strange self -obsession.

Mistress Evelyn gives us an indoor portrait, sketched
in a letter about the same time, which more than confirms
the notion of her that then passed current as an "original "
and a chimera.

" I was surprised to find so much extravagancy and
vanity in any person not confined within four walls. Her
habit particular, fantastical, not unbecoming a good
shape, which she may truly boast of. Her face dis-
covers the facility of the sex, in being yet persuaded
it deserves the esteem years forbid, by the infinite care
she takes to place her curls and patches. Her mien
surpasses the imagination of poets, or the descriptions
of a romance heroine's greatness; her gracious bows,
seasonable nods, courteous stretching out of her hands,
twinkling of her eyes, and various gestures of approba-
tion, show what may be expected from her discourse,
which is as airy, empty, whimsical, and rambling as her
books, aiming at science, difficulties, high notions, ter-
minating commonly in nonsense, oaths and obscenity."

Introduction xvii

In the same interview, she seems to have more than
reached her points in philosophy, with the unstinted
homage of Dr. Charlton: for " she swore if the schools
did not banish Aristotle," and read her instead, " they
did her wrong." This for a woman of wit was a
parlous self-delusion. But indeed if humour is wit
lifted into an atmosphere, one is obliged to confess that
with all her wit Margaret Newcastle had small humour
to spare for her own foibles. Everything that could be
got by the most intrepid mental g5rmnastics was hers;
and if the act of writing were a sure sign of the abstruse
business of thinking, she might have become the philo-
sopher she believed herself to be, but assuredly was not.

Wit as it was then understood — something between
wit, the play of fancy, and the real " intellects," ^ as Dr.
Johnson defined it — ^was her test of both the affections
of the mind and the ailments of the body. Writing
" Of Apoplexies, and the like," she says, " when the
head, which is the chimney-top of the body, is set on
fire by the fever, the brain becomes idle and f ran tick.
But the vapour that ascends to the head is either a
great friend or enemy to the wit; for a gross vapour
chokes the wit, while a thin sharp vapour quickens it."

Her theory of the kind of fluid intelligence, of which a
brain may become the vehicle, appears in her curious
account of the reason why musicians are so often mad.
This is not due to the "pride bred by the conceit of their
rare art and skill. ' ' No, it is really caused ' ' by the motion
of the musick," which being swifter than the ordinary
motion of the brain, distempers that organ by quicken-
ing its pace to the motion of the fiddle; this puts the
brain so out of tune that it is very seldom tunable again,
and " as a ship is swallowed by a whirlpit in the sea, so
is reason drown'd in the whirlpit of the brain."

This is well put if extravagant, and even sounds
original; but though the Duchess is very anxious to
protest that she is indebted to nobody for her ideas in
science and philosophy — ^when we turn to the pages of
some of her contemporaries, we come upon her sources

^ " Will ever acts, and wit contemplates still." — Davies.

xviii The Duchess of Newcastle

plainly enough. Hobbes of the Leviathan was a friend
of the Duke's, and visited at Welbeck, and in his
Decameron Physiologicum and elsewhere are chapters
such as that " Of Hard and Soft, and of the Atoms that
fly in the Air," which no doubt she had read and
pondered. A Treatise on Optics too is extant by Hobbes,
and in the course of the dedication to the Duke the
author says his pages are grounded upon ideas af&rmed
at Welbeck " about sixteen years since to your Lopp, —
that light is a fancy in the mind caused by motion in
the brain, which motion again is caused by the motion
of y^ parts of such bodies as we call lucid : such as are
the sun and y^ fixed stars, and such as here on earth is
fire."

Hobbes was one of the contributors to the amazing
volume of high-flown eulogies addressed to the Duchess
by her friends and admirers; and in it he said her
writings had given him " more and truer ideas of virtue
and honour than any book of morality he had ever read."
This refers probably to Nature's Pictures ; and, for her
plays, " if some comique writer have been able to present
vices upon the stage more ridiculously and immodestly,
by which they take their rabble, I reckon that amongst
your praises. For that which most pleases lewd specta-
tors is nothing but subtile cheating or filch, which a high
and noble mind endued with virtue from its infancy can
never come to the knowledge of." (Feb. 9, 1661.)

Actually, one must confess that her two books of plays
are likely to cause despair to the reader. But when he
has decided it is impossible to read them at any purchase,
he will find that the best of the number has at least an
interest that is auto-dramatic and personal. The first
collection of the plays is in the folio of 1662, which runs
to 679 pages and contains some thirteen of them,
chiefly comedies, and many of these in two parts. The
volume has a lavish set of dedicatory pages; — a general
dedication in verse which tells the pleasure she took in
play- writing:

" For all the time my Playes a making were,
My brain the Stage, my thoughts were acting there; "

Introduction xix

an epistle dedicatory to My Lord; three prose-dedica-
tions to the noble readers; a " General Prologue to all
my Playes;" an address in verse from the Duke to his
lady which begins,

" Terence and Plautus wits we now do scorn; "

seven more prose-addresses or dedications to the
noble readers, and finally a dramatic prelude or
introduction to the first play in which the proverbial
" Three Gentlemen " take part. The opening pages
show her concern for the reader's attitude toward a
play-writing woman. " A woman write a Play! " says
the second gentleman; " Out upon it ... a woman
and a lady to write a play; fye, fye!" "Why may
not a woman write a good Play ? " asks the third gentle-
man, and the first says, " But if a woman hath wit, or
can write a good Play, what will you say then ? "
" Why," says the second gentleman, " I will say no
body will believe it."

After this one turns to the plays with some anxiety
for her fate in the struggle with public opinion; and as
it happens the first play, which has already been quoted.
Love's A dventures, is the best : almost good enough to make
one hope the Duchess, having wagered herself against
the pigmies, is going to achieve at least one success.

In this, as in all her plays, the characters suffer from
their names which according to a bad old fashion are
the labels of their owners' qualities. The hero is " The
Lord Singularity," and his father. The Lord Fatherly;
the other male personages include Sir Serious Dumbe
and Sir Timothy Complement. Among the ladies we
find the Lady Ignorant, the Lady Wagtaile, the Lady
Amorous, the Lady Bashful; the heroine is the Lady
Orphant. The story is the familiar one of a soldier
loved by a true maid, who puts on boy's attire and follows
him to the wars, under the absurd name, Affectionata.
In the course of the war, the Lady Orphant, in the boy's
guise, is adopted by her lover, the Lord Singularity,
General of the forces, as his heir. She has her feminine
triumph, too; for she is invited by the Venetian States

XX The Duchess of Newcastle

to become Lieutenant General of their whole armie.
We see her " in brave cloths, hat and feather, and a
sword by her side," and a great many commanders in
attendance on her. The end may be foreseen; and
the story is a natural outcome of the life of a soldier
who lived in exile and won a young wife to share it with

him.

In Scene 13 of the Comedy of the Apocriphal Ladies,
the stage directions open: " Enter the Comical Dutch-
ess " ; and she is further described as being in the
state which to-day no one could possibly associate
with comical. The scene rapidly runs to a close which
more than enhances the startling character of the
opening.

The Duke's plays are much better than the Duchess's.
He had at least a sense of comedy, and he could of his
own part, and not only as the pupil of Moliere and
Jonson, make his audience laugh. Pepys speaks of
" Sir Martin Mar-all," — the play from MoUere's L'Etourdi,
in which the Duke and Dryden both had a hand, with
a sort of comic rapture. " It is the most entire piece of
mirth," he says, "a complete farce from one end to the
other, that certainly was ever writ. I never laughed so
in all my life. I laughed till my head (ached) all the
evening and night with the laughing ; and at very good
wit therein, not fooling." Some of the credit at least
for this orgy of laughter may be given to the Duke, for
he has scenes of his own devising which touch a similar
note of comic extravagance. Pepys had, as we heard
previously, no words bad enough for some other of the
Newcastle plays, two of which at least the Duke wrote
with the Duchess's partial collaboration.

From the plays, turn to their songs and poems. The
Duke wrote most of his verse d la mode ; and much of
it he contributed to the dramatic and other works of
the Duchess. In the folio at the British Museum of
Nature's Pictures there is an entry in her own writing
against four songs of sorrow and death: " These songs
my Lord writt." The third of them, while not wholly
original, touches the Duke's highest mark in verse:

Introduction xxi

*' Why should I live, but who doth know
The way to him, or where to go ?
Death's ignorant, the dead they have
No sense of grief when in the grave.

" Forgetful and unthankful Death,
Hast thou no love, when stops the breath,
No gratitude, but there dost lie
In dark oblivion for to die?

*' No sense of love, or honour, there ?
Then Death, I prithee me forbear.
Thousands of years in sorrow I
Would live in grief and never die."

More frequently he uses the lyric and amorist mode
of that time, as in the song in his comedy, The Variety :

" Thine eyes to me like suns appear."

Three fourths of the Duchess's poetry we could spare
without hurt to her fame, and indeed with some gain
to her journey into time. But even in her most tedious
perfunctory exercises, there are often surprising gleams,
while at times she achieves a piece of tapestry in verse
which is rare and fine. Such is her spring cartoon in her
Song of the Four Seasons:

" Although I am not rich in wit.
Nor know what tales your humours fit:
Yet in my young and budding muse
Will draw the seasons of the year,
Like prentice painters which do use
The same, to make their skill appear.
But Nature is the hand to guide
The pencil of the mind, and place
The shadows so that they may hide
All the defects or givt a grace.
The Spring is dress'd in buds and blossoms sweet,
And grass- green socks she draws upon her feet;
Of freshest air a garment she cuts out,
With painted tulips fringed round about,
And lines it all within with violets blue
And yellow primrose of the palest hue.
Then wears an apron made of lilies white.
And laced about it is with rays of hght."

Her Fairy poems are of their kind — a kind that makes
the fairies into delicious UUiputian things — to be named
with Herrick's and Shakespeare's; and her Queen Mab
is exquisite:

xxii The Duchess of Newcastle

" She on a dewy leaf doth bathe,
And as she sits, the leaf doth wave;
There like a new-fallen flake of snow.
Doth her white limbs in beauty shew.
Her garments fair her maids put on.
Made of the pure hght from the sun."

And her study in a pair of figures, of Mirth and Melan-
choly, shows her imaginative vein at its richest:

" Mirth laughing came, and running to me flung
Her fat white arms about my neck; there hung
Imbrac'd and kiss'd me oft, and strok'd my cheek,
Saying she would no other lover seek, —
' I'U sing you songs, and please you every day,
Invent new sports to pass the time away.'

But Melancholy, she will make you lean.

Your cheeks shaU hollow grow, your jaws be seen . . ."

But the whole poem must be read to be savoured
truly. It used to be said that Milton had borrowed
from it; the truth probably lay the other way about.
It seems her feeling about her own verse was less than
her pride in her philosophy. She writes in answer to
a request for her opinion of Virgil and Ovid, as to which
she thought was the better poet: " Truly, Madam, my
reason, skill, or understanding in poetry and poets is
not sufficient to give a judgment of two such famous
poets, and their poetry, for though I am a poetess, yet
I am but a poetastress, or a petty poetess, but howso-
ever, I am a legitimate poetical child of nature, and
though my poems, which are the body of the poetical
soul, are not so beautiful and pleasing as the rest of her
poetical childrens bodies are, yet I am nevertheless her
child, although but a brownet. ..."

She would not have been a true daughter of her
century, as well as a child of nature and a " brownet,"
had she not ventured on conceits in her verse, where it
turns to themes like Nature's Dissert, which offers
strange confectionery:

" Sweet marmalade of kisses newly gather'd.
Preserved children, which were never father'd
Sugar of beauty, which away melts soon,
Marchpane of youth, and childish macaroon;

Introduction xxiii

Sugar-plum-words, which fall sweet from the lips.

And wafer-promises mould'ring like chips;

Biskets of love, which crumble all away,

Jelly of fear, which shak'd and quivering lay:

Then was a fresh green-sickness cheese brought in,

And tempting fruit, like that which Eve made sin, ..."

The writer who could write these lines, and then clear
ler style to suit her fairy verse, or in prose achieve the
Life, and the Memoirs, and the best of the Sociable
Letters with which this volume ends, was truly a portent.
No doubt the majority of the Letters were, like the
EpistolcB HoMliance, imaginary and never saw the post.
In one of the twelve or thirteen dedicatory epistles to
her folio of Plays (1662) she says: " But after some idle
time, at last I fell upon a vein of writing letters, and so
fast did the vein run at first, as in one fortnight I writ
above three score letters; but I find it begins to flag.
Like one that hath been let much bloud formerly, it
may gush or stream full out, but cannot bleed long. . . .
So it is in my writing, for though I desire to make
them up a hundred, yet I believe I shall not go much
further." However she went as far as CCII.

A few only, which are at the end of the folio, appear
to have been actually written to her sister Pye and
others. The rest, while they vary greatly in contents,
and often take their colour from a change of scene, are
written more or less to the same pattern. It is easy to
mark in reading them where the hterary invention. ekes
out the epistolary note of some actual occasion. Since
her Letters won Elia's praise, following him we may
count her safely among the best English letter-writers
and biographers of her own sex, and then put her in a
place of honour among the poets. If we admit that she
is among the worst of our playwrights in either sex,
who have survived in the record, and that her philo-
sophy is nU, it does not reduce the wonder of her
achievement.

We end by loving her in the EUan way and replacing
her on his gallery. We picture her with the Duke as
very happy at Welbeck and other great houses after the
Restoration, and she was well inspired to die before him.

xxiv The Duchess of Newcastle

since this gave him the chance of writing her Epitaph —
one that Addison admired :

HERE LYES THE LOYALL DUKE OF NEWCASTLE AND
HIS DUTCHES HIS SECOND WIFE, BY WHOME HE HAD NOI
ISSUE: HER NAME WAS MARGARETT LUCAS, YOUNGEST
SISTER TO THE LORD LUCAS OF COLCHESTER, A NOBLE
FAMILIE: FOR ALL THE BROTHERS WERE VALIANT, AND
ALL THE SISTERS VIRTUOUS. THIS DUTCHES WAS A WISE,
WITTIE AND LEARNED LADY, WHICH HER MANY BOOKS
DOE WELL TESTIFIE: SHE WAS A MOST VIRTUOUS AND A
LOVING AND CAREFUL WIFE AND WAS WITH HER LORD
ALL THE TIME OF HIS BANISHMENT AND MISERIES: AND
WHEN HE CAME HOME NEVER PARTED FROM HIM IN HIS
SOLITARY RETIREMENT.

Diepenbeke's uncounted portraits of the Duke on
horseback, and his and other pictures of the Duchess in
theatrical or other dress, make it evident that they
were, in spite of a disparity of thirty years or more, a
comely and well-matched pair. Margaret Newcastle
died on the seventh of January, 1673-4, and was buried
in Westminster Abbey; we should need the hand of
Pepys to describe the funeral. As for the Duke, he
died 25 Dec, 1676, and followed her to the Abbey,
where he lies in St. Michael's Chapel. We might steal
two lines from those he wrote for his wife's play. Bell
in Campo, to close the scene:

Oh, Death hath shaked me kindly by the hand.
To bid me welcome to the silent grave."

E. R.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Philosophical Fancies, 1653; Poems and Fancies, 1653, second
impression, corrected, 1664 (Select Poems of Margaret Cavendish,
edited by SirEgerton Brydges, 1813) ; The Philosophical and Physical
Opinions, 1655, another edition with MS. corrections, 1663; The
World's Olio, 1655; Nature's Pictures drawn by Fancies Pencil to
the Life (in this volume are several feigned stories of natural de-
scriptions, as comical, tragical, etc.), MS. notes by the author, 1656;
Orations of Divers Sorts, acconmaodated to divers places, 1662;
Plays, 1662; Philosophical Letters, or Modest Reflections upon
some Opinions in Natural Philosophy, maintained by several
learned Authors of this age, 1664; CCXI Sociable Letters, 1664;
Observations upon Experimental Philosophy, to which is added
the description of a New Blazing World, 1666; The Life of the
thrice Noble William Cavendishe, Duke, Marquis, and Earl of
Newcastle, 1667 — (The Lives of Wilham Cavendishe, Duke of New-
castle, and of his wife, Margaret Duchess of Newcastle, edited with
preface and occasional notes by M. A. Lower, 1856; The Life of
William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, to which is added the true
relation of my birth, breeding and life, by Margaret, Duchess of
Newcastle, edited by C. H. Firth, with portraits, 1886, second
edition, revised with additional notes, 12 appendices and index,
1906) ; A Latin edition of the Life of the Marquis was published in
1668; The Description of a New World, called the Blazing World,
1668; Plays never before printed, 1668; Grounds of Natural
Philosophy divided into 13 parts with an appendix, second edition
much altered, which went rnider the name of Philosophicar and
Phisical Opinions, 1668; Letters of Margaret Lucas to her future
husband, William Cavendish, Marquis, afterwards Duke of New-
castle, 1645, edited by R. W. Goulding, 1909.

XXV

CONTENTS

PAGE

Life of the Duke of Newcastle . . . i
Memoirs of the Duchess . . . .179
Certain Sociable Letters . . . .215

XX vu

THE LIFE OF THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS

PRINCE, WILLIAM DUKE OF

NEWCASTLE

The

LIFE

Of The
Thrice Noble, High and Puissant Prince

WILLIAM CAVENDISHE

Duke, Marquess, and Earl of Newcastle;

Earl of Ogle; Viscount Mansfield;

AND Baron of Bolsover, of Ogle, Bothal and Hepple:

Gentleman of His Majesties Bed-chamber;

one of His Majesties most Honourable Privy Councel;

Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter;

His Majesties Lieutenant

OF the County and Town of Nottingham;

AND Justice in Ayre Trent North:

WHO had the honour to be Governour

to our most Glorious King, and Gracious Soveraign,

in his Youth, when He was Prince of Wales;

and soon after was made Captain General

OF ALL THE PROVINCES BEYOND THE RiVER OF TrENT,
AND OTHER PaRTS OF THE KINGDOM OF ENGLAND, .

WITH Power, by a special Commission, to make Knights.

Written
By the thrice Noble, Illustrious, and Excellent

Princess

Margaret Duchess of Newcastle,

His 2D. wife.

London
Printed by A. Maxwell, in the Year 1667.

A

TO HIS MOST SACRED MAJESTY
CHARLES THE SECOND

By the Grace of God, of England, Scotland, France
and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, Etc.

May it please your Majesty,

I HAVE, in confidence of your gracious acceptance,
taken the boldness, or rather the presumption, to
dedicate to your Majesty this short history (which is
as full of truths, as words) of the actions and suffer-
ings of your most loyal subject, My Lord and husband
(by your Majesties late favour) Duke of Newcastle;
who when your Majesty was Prince of Wales, was
your most careful governour, and honest servant.
Give me therefore leave to relate here, that I have
heard him often say, he loves your royal person
so dearly, that he would most willingly, upon all
occasions, sacrifice his life and posterity for your
Majesty: whom that Heaven will ever bless, is the
prayer of

Your most obedient, loyal, humble
subject and servant,

Margaret Newcastle,

TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF
NEWCASTLE

My Noble Lord,

It hath always been my hearty prayer to God, since I
have been your wife, that first I might prove an honest
and good wife, whereof yotir Grace must he the onely
judg{e) : next, that God would he pleased to enable me
to set forth and declare to after- ages, the truth of your
loyal actions and endeavours, for the service of your
King and country ; for the accomplishing of which
design, I have followed the best and truest observations
of your secretary John Rolleston, and your Lordship's
own relations, and have accordingly writ the history of
your Lordship's life, which although I have endeavoured
to render as perspicuous as ever I could, yet one thing
I find hath much darkened it ; which, is, that your
Grace commanded me not to mention any thing or
passage to the prejudice or disgrace of any family or
particular person [although they might he of great
truth, and would illustrate much the actions of your
life) which I have dutifully performed to satis fie your
Lordship, whose nature is so generous, that you are as
well pleased to obscure the faults of your enemies, as
you are to divulge the vertues of your friends. And
certainly. My Lord, you have had as many enemies,
and as many friends, as ever any one particular person
had ; and I pray God to forgive the one, and prosper
the other : Nor do I so much wonder at it, since I, a
woman, cannot be exempt from the malice and aspersions
of spightful tongues, which they cast upon my poor

4

Dedication 5

writings, some denying me to he the true Authoress of
them ; for your Grace remembers well, that those books
I put out first, to the judgment of this censorious age,
were accounted not to be written by a woman, but that
some body else had writ and published them in my
name ; by which your Lordship was moved to prefix
an epistle before one of them in my vindication, wherein
you assure the world upon your honour, that what was
written and printed in my name, was my own ; and I
have also made known, that your Lordship was my onely
tutor, in declaring to me what you had found and
observed by your own experience ; for L being young
when your Lordship married me, could not have much
knowledge of the world ; but it pleased God to command
his servant Nature to indue me with a poetical and
philosophical genius, even from my birth ; for I did
write some books, in that kind, before I was twelve years
of age, which for want of good method and order, L would
never divulge. But though the world would not believe
that those conceptions and fancies which I writ, were
my own, but transcended my capacity, yet they found
fault, that they were defective for want of learning ;
and on the other side, they said L had pluckt feathers
out of the Universities ; which was a very preposterous
judgment. Truly, My Lord, I confess that for want of
scholarship, I could not express my self so well as
otherwise I might have done, in those philosophical
writings L published first ; but after L was returned
with your Lordship into my native cotmiry, and led a
retired country life, L applied my self to the reading of
philosophical authors, of purpose to learn those names
and words of art that are used in schools ; which at
first were so hard to me, that L could not understand them,
but was fain to guess at the sense of them by the whole
context, and so writ them down as I found them in those

6 The Duchess of Newcastle

authors, at which my readers did wonder, and thought
it impossible that a woman could have so much learning
and understanding in terms of art, and scholastical
expressions ; so that I and my hooks are like the old
Apologue mentioned in iEsop, of a father, and his son,
who rid on an ass through a town when his father went
on foot, at which sight the people shouted and cried
shame, that a young hoy should ride, and let his father,
an old man, go on foot : whereupon the old man got
upon the ass, and let his son go hy ; hut when they
came to the next town, the people exclaimed against
the father, that he a lusty man should ride, and have
no more pity of his young and tender child, hut let
him go on foot : then hoth the father and his son got
upon the ass, and coming to the third town, the people
blamed them hoth for being so unconscionable as to
over-burden the poor ass with their heavy weight :
After this hoth father and son went on foot, and led the
ass ; and when they came to the fourth town, the people
railed as much at them as ever the former had done, and
called them both fools for going on foot, when they had
a beast able to carry them. The old man, seeing he could
not please mankind in any manner, and having received
so many blemishes and aspersions, for the sake of his
ass, was at last resolved to drown him when he came to
the next bridge. But I am not so passionate to burn
my writings for the various homours of mankind, and
for their finding fault, since there is nothing in this
world, be it the noblest and most commendable action
whatsoever, that shall escape blameless. As for my being
the true and onely Authoress of them, your Lordship
knows best, and my attending servants are witness that
I have had none but my own thoughts, fancies and
speculations to assist me; and as soon as I have set
them down, I send them to those that are to transcribe

Dedication 7

them, and fit them for the Press ; whereof since there
have been several, and amongst them such as onely
could write a good hand, hut neither understood ortho-
graphy, nor had any learning {I being then in banish-
ment with your Lordship, and not able to maintain
learned secretaries) which hath been a great disadvantage
to my poor works, and the cause that they have been
printed so false, and so full of errors ; for besides that
I want also the skill of scholarship and true writing, I
did many times not peruse the copies that were tran-
scribed, lest they should disturb my following conceptions ;
by which neglect, as I said, many errors are slipt into
my works, which yet I hope learned and impartial
readers will soon rectifie, and look more upon the sense,
than carp at words. I have been a student even from
my childhood, and since I have been your Lordship's
wife, I have lived for the most part a strict and retired
life, as is best known to your Lordship, and therefore
my censurers cannot know much of me, since they have
little or no acquaintance with me : 'Tis true, I have been
a traveller both before and after I was married to your
Lordship, and sometimes shew my self at your Lordship's
command in publick places or assemblies ; but yet I
converse with few. Indeed, My Lord, I matter not the
censures of this age, but am rather proud of them ;
for it shews that my actions are more then ordinary,
and according to the old proverb. It is better to be
envied, then pitied: for I know well, that it is meerly
out of spight and malice, whereof this present age is so
full, that none can escape them, and they'l make no
doubt to stain even your Lordship's loyal, noble and
heroick actions, as well as they do mine, though yours
have been of war and fighting, mine of contemplating
and writing : yours were performed publickly in the
field, mine privately in my closet : yours had many

8 The Duchess of Newcastle

thousand eye-witnesses, mine none hut my waiting-
maids. But the great God that hath hitherto blessed both
your Grace and me, will, I question not, preserve both
our fames to after ages, for which we shall be bound
most humbly to acknowledge his great mercy ; and I
my self, as long as I live, be

Your Grace's honest Wife

and Humble Servant

M, NEWCASTLE.

THE PREFACE

When I first intended to write this History, knowing
my self to be no scholar, and as ignorant of the rules
of writing histories, as I have in my other works
acknowledged my self to be of the names and terms
of art, I desired My Lord, that he would be pleased
to let me have some elegant and learned historian
to assist me; which request his Grace would not
grant me ; saying, that having never had any assist-
ance in the writing of my former books, I should have
no other in the writing of his Life, but the informations
from himself, and his secretary, of the chief trans-
actions and fortunes occurring in it, to the time he
married me, I humbly answered, that without a
learned assistant, the History would be defective:
But he replied, that truth could not be defective. I
said again, that rhetorick did adorn truth: and he
answered, that rhetorick was fitter for falsehoods
then truths. Thus I was forced by his Grace's com-
mands, to write this History in my own plain style,
without elegant flourishings, or exquisite method,
rel5ring intirely upon truth, in the expressing whereof,
I have been very circumspect ; as knowing well that
his Grace's actions have so much glory of their own.
that they need borrow none from any bodies industry.
Many learned men, I know, have published rules
and directions concerning the method and style of
histories, and do with great noise, to little purpose,
make loud exclamations against those historians,
that keeping close to the truth of their narrations,
cannot think it necessary to follow slavishly such

9 A2

10 The Duchess of Newcastle

instructions; and there is some men of good under-
standings, as I have heard, that applaud very much
several histories, meerly for their elegant style, and
well-observed method; setting a high value upon
feigned orations, mystical designs, and fancied
policies, which are, at the best, but pleasant romances.
Others approve, in the relations of wars, and of
military actions, such tedious descriptions, that the
reader, tired with them, will imagine that there was
more time spent in assaulting, defending, and taking
of a fort, or a petty garison, then Alexander did
employ in conquering the greatest part of the world :
which proves, that such historians regard more their
own eloquence, wit and industry, and the knowledge
they believe to have of the actions of war, and of all
manner of governments, than of the truth of the
history, which is the main thing, and wherein consists
the hardest task, very few historians knowing the
transactions they write of, and much less the counsels,
and secret designs of many different parties, which
they confidently mention.

Although there be many sorts of histories, yet these
three are the chiefest: (i) a general history. (2) A
national history. (3) A particular history. Which
three sorts may, not unfitly, be compared to the three
sorts of governments. Democracy, Aristocracy, and
Monarchy. The first is the history of the known parts
and people of the world; the second is the history
of a particular nation, kingdom or commonwealth.
The third is the history of the life and actions of some
particular person. The first is profitable for travellers,
navigators and merchants; the second is pernicious,
by reason it teaches subtil policies, begets factions,
not onely between particular families and persons,
but also between whole nations, and great princes,

The Preface 1 1

rubbing old sores, and renewing old quarrels, that
would otherwise have been forgotten. The last is
the most secure; because it goes not out of its own
circle, but turns on its own axis, and for the most
part, keeps within the circumference of truth.
The first is mechanical, the second political, and
the third heroical. The first should onely be written
by travellers and navigators; the second by states-
men ; the third by the prime actors, or the spectators
of those affairs and actions of which they write, as
Caesar's Commentaries are, which no pen but of such
an author, who was also actor in the particular
occurrences, private intrigues, secret counsels, close
designs, and rare exploits of war he relates, could ever
have brought to so high perfection.

This History is of the third sort, as that is; and
being of the Hfe and actions of My Noble Lord and
husband, who hath informed me of all the particular
passages I have recorded, I cannot, though neither
actor, nor spectator, be thought ignorant of the truth
of what I write ; nor is it inconsistent with my being
a woman, to write of wars, that was neither between
Medes and Persians, Greeks and Trojans, Christians
and Turks ; but among my own countreymen, whose
customs and inchnations, and most of the persons
that held any considerable place in the armies, was
well known to me; and besides all that (which is
above all) my noble and loyal Lord did act a chief
part in that fatal tragedy, to have defended (if
humane power could have done it) his most Gracious
Soveraign, from the fury of his rebellious subjects.

This History being (as I have said) of a particular
person, his actions, and fortunes; it cannot be
expected, that I should here preach of the beginning
of the world; nor seem to express understanding in

1 2 The Duchess of Newcastle

the politicks, by tedious moral discourses, with long
observations upon the several sorts of government
that have been in Greece and Rome, and upon others
more modern ; I will neither endeavour to make show
of eloquence, making speeches that never was spoken,
nor pretend to great skill in war, by making moun-
tains of mole-hills, and telling romantical falsehoods
for historical truths; and much less will I write to
amuse my readers, in a mystical and allegorical style,
of the disloyal actions of the opposite party, of the
treacherous cowardise, envy and malice of some
persons, My Lord's enemies, and of the ingratitude
of some of his seeming friends; wherein I cannot
better obey his Lordship's commands to conceal
those things, then in leaving them quite out, as I do,
with submission to his Lordship's desire, from whom
I have learned patience to overcome my passions, and
discretion to yield to his prudence.

Thus am I resolved to write, in a natural plain style,
without Latin sentences, moral instructions, politick
designs, feigned orations, or envious and malicious
exclamations, this short history of the loyal, heroick
and prudent actions of my noble Lord, as also of his
sufferings, losses, and ill-fortunes, which in honour
and conscience I could not suffer to be buried in
silence ; nor could I have undertaken so hard a task,
had not my love to his person, and to truth, been my
encourager and supporter.

I might have made this book larger, in transcribing
(as is ordinary in histories) the several letters, full of
affection, and kind promises he received from His
Gracious Soveraign, Charles the First, and from his
Royal Consort, in the time he was in the actions of
war, as also since the war, from his dear soveraign
and master, Charles the Second; but many of the

The Preface i 3

fonner letters having been lost, when all was lost; I
thought it best, seeing I had not them all, to print
none. As for orations, which is another way of
swelling the bulk of histories; it is certain, that My
Lord made not many; chusing rather to fight, then
to talk; and his declarations having been printed
already, it had been superfluous to insert them in these
narrations.

This book would, however, have been a great volume
if his Grace would have given me leave to publish his
enemies actions ; but being to write of his own onely,
I do it briefly and truly ; and not as many have done,
who have written of the late civil war, with but few
sprinklings of truth, like as heat-drops upon a dry
barren ground ; knowing no more of the transactions
of those times, then what they learned in the gazets,
which, for the most part (out of Policy to amuse and
deceive the people), contain nothing but falsehoods
and chimeraes; and were such parasites, that after
the King's party was overpowered, the government
among the rebels changing from one faction to another,
they never missed to exalt highly the merits of the
chief commanders of the then prevailing side, com-
paring some of them to Moses, and some others to
all the great and most famous heroes, both Greeks
and Romans; wherein, unawares, they exceedingly
commended my noble Lord ; for if those ring-leaders
of factions were so great men as they are reported to
be, by those time-servers, how much greater must his
Lordship be, who beat most of them, except the Earl
of Essex, whose employment was never in the
northern parts, where all the rest of the greatest
strength of the parliament was sent, to oppose My
Lord's forces, which was the greatest the King's party
had any where.

14 The Duchess of Newcastle

Good fortune is such an idol of the world, and is so
like the golden calf worshipped by the Israelites, that
those arch-rebels never wanted astrologers to foretel
them good success in all their enterprises, nor poets
to sing their praises, nor orators for panegyricks;
nay, which is worse, nor historians neither, to record
their valour in fighting, and wisdom in governing.
But being, so much as I am, above base profit, or any
preferment whatsoever, I cannot fear to be suspected
of flattery, in declaring to the world the merits,
wealth, power, loyalty, and fortunes of my noble
Lord, who hath done great actions, suffered great
losses, endured a long banishment, for his loyalty to
his King and countrey; and leads now, like another
Scipio, a quiet count rey-life. If notwithstanding all
this, any should say, that those who write histories of
themselves, and their own actions, or of their own
party, or instruct and inform those that write them
are partial to themselves; I answer, that it is very
improbable, worthy persons, who having done great,
noble and heroick exploits, deserving to be recorded,
should be so vain, as to write false histories; but if
they do, it proves but their folly ; for truth can never
be concealed, and so it will be more for their disgrace,
then for their honour or fame. I fear not any such
blemishes in this present History, for I am not con-
scious of any such crime as partiality or falsehood,
but write it whilest my noble Lord is yet alive, and
at such a time where truth may be declared, and
falsehood contradicted; and I challenge any one
(although I be a woman) to contradict any thing that
I have set down, or prove it to be otherwise then
truth; for be there never so many contradictions,
truth will conquer all at last.

Concerning My Lord's actions in war, which are

The Preface 15

comprehended in the first book, the relation of
them I have chiefly from My Lord's secretary
Mr. RoUeston, a person that has been an eye-witness
thereof, and accompanied My Lord as secretary in
his army, and gave out all his commissions; his
honesty and worth is unquestionable by all that know
him. And as for the second book, which contains
My Lord's actions and sufferings, during the time of
his exile, I have set down so much as I could possibly
call to mind, without any particular expression of
time, onely from the time of his banishment, or rather
(what I can remember) from the time of my marriage,
till our return into England. To the end of which I
have joined a computation of My Lord's losses, which
he hath suffered by those unfortunate warres. In
the third book I have set down some particular
chapters concerning the description of his person,
his natural faculties, and personal vertues, etc. And
in the last, some essayes and discourses of My Lord's,
together with some notes and remarques of mine
own; which I thought most convenient to place by
themselves at the end of this work, rather then to
intermingle them with the body of the history.

It might be some prejudice to My Lord's glory, and
the credit of this History, not to take notice of a very
considerable thing I have heard, which is, That when
his Lordship's army had got so much strength and
reputation, that the rebellious Parliament finding
themselves overpowered with it, rather then to be
utterly ruined (as was unavoidable), did call the
Scots to their assistance, with a promise to reward
so great a service with the four northern counties
of Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmerland,
and the Bishoprick of Durham, which I have not
mentioned in the book.

1 6 The Duchess of Newcastle

And it is most certain, that the parliament forces
were never powerful, nor their commanders or
officers famous, until such time as My Lord was over-
powered; neither could loyalty have been over-
powered by rebellion, had not treachery had better
fortune then prudence.

When I speak of My Lord's pedigree, where Thomas
Earl of Arundel, Grandfather to the now Duke of
Norfolk, is mentioned, they have left out William
Viscount Stafford, one of his sons, who did marry the
heir of the last Baron Stafford, descended from the
Dukes of Buckingham; which was set down in my
original manuscript.

Some of those omissions, and very probably others,
are happened, partly for want of timely information,
and chiefly by the death of my secretary who did
copy my writings for the Press, and dyed in London,
attending that service, afore the printing of the book
was quite finished. And as I hope of your favour to be
excused for omitting those things in the book; so I
expect of your justice to be approved in putting them
here, though somewhat unseasonably.

Before I end this preface, I do beseech my readers
not to mistake me when I speak of My Lord's banish-
ment, as if I would conceal that he went voluntarily
out of his native country; for it is most true, that his
Lordship prudently perceiving all the King's party
lost, not onely in England, but also in Scotland and
Ireland; and that it was impossible to withstand the
rebels, after the fatal overthrow of his army; his
Lordship, in a poor and mean condition quitted
his own countrey, and went beyond sea; soon after
which, the Rebels having got an absolute power, and
granted a general pardon to all those that would
come in to them, upon composition, at the rates they

The Preface 17

had set down, his Lordship, with but few others,
was excepted from it, both for life and estate, and did
remain thus banished till His Majesties happy
restauration.

I must also acknowledge, that I have committed
great errors in taking no notice of times as I should
have done in many places of this History : I mention
in one place the Queen Mother's being in France,
when My Lord went thither, but do not say in what
year that was: Nor do I express when His Majesty
(our now Gracious Soveraign) came in, and went out
again several times from that kingdom, which has
happened, for want of memory, and I desire my readers
to excuse me for it.

No body can certainly be more ready to find faults
in this work then I am to confess them; being very
conscious that I have, as I told My Lord I should,
committed many for want of learning, and chiefly
of skill in writing histories: but having, according
to his Lordship's commands, written his actions
and fortunes truly and plainly, I have reason to
expect, that whatsoever else shall be found amiss,
will be favourably pardoned by the candid readers,
to whom I wish all manner of happiness.

AN EPISTLE TO HER GRACE THE
DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE

May it please your Grace,

/ have been taught, and do believe, that obedience is
better then sacrifice ; and know, that both are due from
me to your Grace ; and since I have been so long in
obeying yoitr commands, I shall not presume to use any
arguments for my excuse, but rather chuse ingeniously
to confess my fault, and beg your Graces pardon. And
because forgiveness is a glory to the supreamest powers,
I will hope that your Grace by that great example will
make it yours. And now I htimbly take leave to represent
to your Grace, as faithfully and truly as my memory
will serve me, all my observations of the most memorable
actions, and honourable deportments of His Grace,
my most noble lord and master, William Duke of
Newcastle, in the execution and performance of the
trusts and high employments committed and commended
to his care and charge by three kings of England;
that is to say, King James, King Charles the First, of
ever blessed memory ; and our gracious King, Charles
the Second ; under whom he hath had the happiness to
live, and the honour to serve them in several capacities :
And because I humbly conceive, that it is not within the
intention of your Grace's commands, that I should give
you a particular relation of his Grace's high birth, his
noble and princely education and breeding, both at

i8

An Epistle 19

home and abroad ; his natural faculties, and personal
vertues ; his justice, bounty, charity, friendship ; his
right approved courage, and true valour, not grounded
upon, or governed by passion, but reason ; his magnifi-
cent manner of living and supporting his dignity,
■ testified by his great entertainments of their Majesties,
and his private friends, upon all fit occasions, besides
his ordinary and constant housekeeping and attendants ;
some for honour, and some for business, wherein he
exceeded most for his quality ; and that he was, and is an
incomparable master to his servants, is sufficiently
testified by all or most of the chief est of them, living and
dying in his Grace's service, which is an argument that
they thought themselves as happy therein, as the world
could make them ; nor of his well-chosen pleasures,
which were principally horses of all sorts, but more
particularly horses of mannage ; his study and art of
the true use of the sword ; his magnificent buildings.
These are his chief est delights, wherein his Grace spared
for no cost nor charge, which are s^i^fficiently manifested
to the world ; for other delights, as those of running
horses, hawking, hunting, etc. His Grace used them
meerly for societies sake, and out of a generous and
obliging nature to please others, though his knowledge in
them excelled, as well as in the other. And yet notwith-
standing these his large and vast expences, before his
Grace was called to the Court, he encreased his revenue
by way of purchase to a great value ; and when he was
called to the Court, he was then free from debts, and, as
I have heard, seme thousands of pounds in his purse.
These particulars, and as many more of this kind as
would swell a volume, I could enumerate to your Grace ;
but that they are so well known to your Grace, it would
be a presumption in me, rather then a service, to give
your Grace that trouble ; and therefore I humbly forbear ,

20 The Duchess of Newcastle

and proceed, according to my intention, to give your
Grace a faithful account of your Graces commands, as
becomes

May it please your Grace,

Your Graces most humble,

and most obedient servant,

John Rolleston.

THE LIFE OF THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS
PRINCE, WILLIAM DUKE OF NEW-
CASTLE

THE FIRST BOOK

Since my chief intent in this present work, is to
describe the Hie and actions of My Noble Lord and
Husband, Wilham, Duke of Newcastle, I shall do it
with as much brevity, perspicuity and truth, as is
required of an impartial historian. The history of his
pedigree I shall refer to the heralds, and partly give
you an account thereof at the latter end of this work ;
onely thus much I shall now mention, as will be
requisite for the better understanding of the following
discourse.

His grandfather by his father's side was Sir
William Cavendish, Privy Counsellour and Treasurer
of the Chamber to King Henry the Eighth, Edward
the Sixth, and Queen Mary. His grandfather by his
mother was Cuthbert Lord Ogle, an ancient baron.
His father Sir Charles Cavendish was the youngest
son to Sir William, and had no other children but
three sons, whereof My Lord was the second; but
his elder brother dying in his infancy, left both his
title and birthright to My Lord, so that My Lord had
then but one onely brother left, whose name was
Charles after his father, whereas My Lord had the
name of his grandfather.

These two brothers were partly bred with Gilbert

21

22 The Duchess of Newcastle

Earl of Shrewsbury their uncle in law, and their
aunt Mary, Countess of Shrewsbury, Gilbert's wife,
and sister to their father, for there interceded an
intire and constant friendship between the said
Gilbert, Earl of Shrewsbury, and My Lord's father,
Sir Charles Cavendish, caused not onely by the
marriage of My Lord's aunt, his father's sister, to the
aforesaid Gilbert, Earl of Shrewsbury, and by the
marriage of George, Earl of Shrewsbury, Gilbert's
father, with My Lord's grandmother, by his father's
side; but Sir Charles Cavendish, My Lord's father,
and Gilbert, Earl of Shrewsbury, being brought up
and bred together in one family, and grown up as
parts of one body, after they came to be beyond
children, and travelled together into foreign countries,
to observe the fashions, laws, and customs of other
nations, contracted such an intire friendship which
lasted to their death: neither did they out -live each
other long, for My Lord's father, Sir Charles Cavendish,
lived but one year after Gilbert Earl of Shrewsbury.

But both My Lord's parents, and his aunt and uncle
in law, shewed always a great and fond love to My
Lord, endeavouring, when he was but a child, to
please him with what he most delighted in. When
he was grown to the age of fifteen or sixteen, he was
made Knight of the Bath, an ancient and honourable
Order, at the time when Henr^^, King James, of
blessed memory, his eldest son, was created Prince of
Wales: and soon after he went to travel with Sir
Henry Wotton, who was sent as Ambassador Extra-
ordinary to the then Duke of Savoy; which Duke
made very much of My Lord, and when he would be
free in feasting, placed him next to himself. Before
My Lord did return with the Ambassador into
England, the said Duke profered My Lord, that if

Life of the Duke 23

he would stay with him, he would not onely confer
upon him the best titles of honour he could, but also
give him an honourable command in war, although
My Lord was but young, for the Duke had then some
designs of war. But the Ambassador, who had taken
the care of My Lord, would not leave him behind
without his parent's consent.

At last, when My Lord took his leave of the Duke,
the Duke being a very generous person, presented
him with a Spanish horse, a saddle very richly
embroidered, and with a rich jewel of diamonds.

Some time after My Lord's return into England,
Gilbert Earl of Shrewsbury died, and left My Lord,
though he was then but young, and about twenty-two
years of age, his executor; a year after, his father,
Sir Charles Cavendish, died also. His mother, being
then a widow, was desirous that My Lord should
marry: in obedience to whose commands, he chose a
wife both to his own good liking, and his mother's
approving; who was daughter and heir to William
Basset of Blore, Esq. ; a very honourable and ancient
family in Staffordshire, by whom was added a great
part to his estate, as hereafter shall be mentioned.
After My Lord was married, he lived, for the most
part, in the country, and pleased himself and his
neighbours with hospitality, and such delights as
the country afforded; onely now and then he would
go up to London for some short time to wait on the
King.

About this time King James, of blessed memory,
having a purpose to confer some honour upon My
Lord, made him Viscount Mansfield, and Baron of
Bolsover ; and after the decease of King James, King
Charles the First, of blessed memoxy, constituted
him Lord Warden of the Forrest of Sherewood, and

24 The Duchess of Newcastle

Lieutenant of Nottinghamshire, and restored his
mother Catharine, the second daughter of Cuthbert
Lord Ogle, to her father's dignity, after the death of
her onely sister Jane Countess of Shrewsbury,
pubHckly declaring that it was her right; which
title, after the death of his mother, descended also
upon My Lord, and his heirs general, together with a
large inheritance of 3000/. a year, in Northumberland.

About the same time, after the decease of William,
late Earl of Devonshire, his noble cousin german, My
Lord was by his said Majesty made Lord Lieutenant
of Derbyshire ; which trust and honour, after he had
enjoyed for several years, and managed it, like as all
other offices put to his trust, with all possible care,
faithfulness and dexterity, during the time of the
said earl's son William, the now Earl of Devonshire,
his minority, as soon as this same earl was come to
age, and by law made capable of that trust, he
willingly and freely resigned it into his hands, he
having hitherto kept it onely for him, that he and no
body else might succeed his father in that dignity.

In these, and all other both publick and private
imployments, My Lord hath ever been careful to
keep up the King's rights to the uttermost of his
power, to strengthen those mentioned counties with
ammunition, and to administer justice to every one;
for he refused no man's petition, but sent all that
came to him, either for relief or justice, away from
him fully satisfied.

Not long after his being made Lieutenant of
Nottinghamshire, there was found so great a defect
of armes and ammunition in that county, that the
Lords of the Council being advertised thereof, as the
manner then was. His Majesty commanded a levy to
be made upon the whole county for the supply thereof ;

Life of the Duke 25

whereupon the sum of 500/. or thereabout, was
accordingly levied for that purpose, and three persons
of quality, then deputy lieutenants, were desired by
My Lord to receive the money, and see it disposed;
which being done accordingly, and a certain account
rendered to My Lord, he voluntarily ordered the then
Clerk of the Peace of that county, that the same
account should be recorded amongst the sessions
roles, and be published in open sessions, to the end
that the country might take notice how their monies
were disposed of, for which act of justice My Lord
was highly commended.

Within some few years after. King Charles the
First, of blessed memory, his Gracious Soveraign, in
regard to his true and faithful service to his King and
country, was pleased to honour him with the title of
Earl of Newcastle, and Baron of Bothal and Heple;
which title he graced so much by his noble actions
and deportments, that some seven years after, which
was in the year 1638, His Majesty called him up to
Court, and thought him the fittest person whom he
might intrust with the government of his son Charles,
then Prince of Wales, now our most Gracious King,
and made him withal a member of the Lords of His
Majesties most honourable Privy Council; which,
as it was a great honour and trust, so he spared no care
and industry to discharge his duty accordingly; and
to that end, left all the care of governing his own
family and estate, with all fidelity attending his
master not without considerable charges, and vast
expences of his own.

In this present employment he continued for
the space of three years, during which time there
happened an insurrection and rebellion of His
Majesties discontented subjects in Scotland, which

2 6 The Duchess of Newcastle

forced His Majesty to raise an army, to reduce them
to their obedience, and his Treasury being at that
time exhausted he was necessitated to desire some
supply and assistance of the noblest and richest of
his loyal subjects; amongst the rest. My Lord lent
His Majesty 10,000/. and raised himself a voluntier-
troop of horse, which consisted of 120 knights and
gentlemen of quality, who marched to Berwick by
His Majesties command, where it pleased His Majesty
to set this mark of honour upon that troop, that it
should be independent, and not commanded by any
general ofhcer, but onely by His Majesty himself;
the reason thereof was upon this following occasion.
His Majesties whole body of horse, being com-
manded to march into Scotland against the rebels,
a place was appointed for their rendezvous; im-
mediately upon their meeting. My Lord sent a gentle-
man of quality of his troop to His Majesties then
General of the Horse, to know where his troop should
march; who returned this answer. That it was to
march next after the troops of the general officers of
the field. My Lord conceiving that his troop ought
to march in the van, and not in the rear, sent the same
messenger back again to the General, to inform him,
that he had the honour to march with the Prince's
colours, and therefore he thought it not fit to march
under any of the officers of the field ; yet neverthe-
less the General ordered that troop as he had formerly
directed. Whereupon, My Lord thinking it unfit at
that time to dispute the business, immediately com-
manded his cornet to take off the Princes colour's
from his staff, and so marched in the place appointed,
choosing rather to march without his colours flying,
then to lessen his master's dignity by the command
of any subject.

Life of the Duke 27

Immediately after the return from that expedition
to His Majesties leaguer, the General made a com-
plaint thereof to His Majesty; who being trtily
informed of the business, commended My Lord's dis-
cretion for it, and from that time ordered that troop
to be commanded by none but himself. Thus they
remained upon duty, without receiving any payment
or allowance from His Majesty, until His Majesty had
reduced his rebellious subjects, and then My Lord
returned with honour to his charge, viz. the govern-
ment of the Prince.

At last when the whole army was disbanded, then,
and not before, My Lord thought it a fit time to exact
an account from the said General for the affront he
passed upon him, and sent him a challenge ; the place
and hour being appointed by both their consents,
where and when to meet. My Lord appeared there
with his second, but found not his opposite: after
some while his opposite 's second came all alone, by
whom My Lord perceived that their design had been
discovered to the King by some of his opposite 's
friends, who presently caused them both to be con-
fined until he had made their peace.

My Lord having hitherto attended the Prince, his
master, with all faithfulness and duty befitting so
great an employment, for the space of three years, in
the beginning of that rebellious and unhappy ParHa-
ment which was the cause of all the mines and mis-
fortunes that afterwards befell this kingdom, was
privately advertised, that the Parliament's design
was to take the government of the Prince from him,
which he apprehending as a disgrace to himself,
wisely prevented, and obtained the consent of His
late Majesty, with his favour, to ^deliver up the
charge of being governor to the Prince, and retire

28 The Duchess of Newcastle

into the countrey; which he did in the beginning of
the year 1641, and setled himself, with his lady,
children and family, to his great satisfaction, with an
intent to have continued there, and rested under his
own vine, and managed his own estate; but he had
not enjoyed himself long, but an express came to him
from His Majesty, who was then unjustly and un-
mannerly treated by the said Parliament, to repair
with all possible speed and privacy to Kingston upon
Hull, where the greatest part of His Majesties am-
munition and arms then remained in that magazine,
it being the most considerable place for strength in
the northern parts of the kingdom.

Immediately upon the receipt of these His Ma-
jesties orders and commands. My Lord prepared
for their execution, and about twelve of the clock at
night, hastened from his own house when his familie
were all at their rest, save two or three servants which
he appointed to attend him. The next day early in
the morning he arrived at Hull, in the quality of a
private gentleman, which place was distant from
his house forty miles; and none of his family that
were at home, knew what was become of him, till
he sent an express to his lady to inform her where
he was.

Thus being admitted into the town, he fell upon
his intended design, and brought it to so hopeful an
issue for His Majesties service, that he wanted nothing
but His Majesties further commission and pleasure to
have secured both the town and magazine for His
Majesties use: and to that end by a speedy express
gave His Majesty, who was then at Windsor, an
account of all his transactions therein, together with
his opinion of them, hoping His Majesty would have
been pleased either to come thither in person, which

Life of the Duke 29

he might have done with much security, or at least
have sent him a commission and orders how he should
do His Majesty further service.

But instead thereof he received orders from His
Majesty to observe such directions as he should
receive from the Parliament then sitting : whereupon
he was summoned personally to appear at the House
of Lords, and a committee chosen to examine the
grounds and reasons of his undertaking that design ;
but My Lord shewed them his commission, and that
it was done in obedience to His Majesties commands,
and so was cleared of that action.

Not long after, My Lord obtained the freedom from
His Majesty to retire again to his countrey life, which
he did with much alacrity: He had not remained
many months there, but His Majesty was forced by
the fury of the said Parliament, to repair in person to
York, and to send the Queen beyond the seas for her
safety.

No sooner was His Majesty arrived at York but he
sent his commands to My Lord to come thither to
him; which, according to his wonted custom and
loyalty, he readily obeyed, and after a few days spent
there in consultation. His Majesty was pleased to
command him to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, to take upon
him the government of that town, and the four
counties next adjoining; that is to say, Northmnber-
land, Cumberland, Westmerland, and the Bishoprick
of Durham ; which My Lord did accordingly, although
he wanted men, money and ammunition, for the
performance of that design ; for when he came thither
he neither found any military provision considerable
for the undertaking that work, nor generally any
great encouragement from the people in those parts
more then what his own interest created in them;

30 The Duchess of Newcastle

Nevertheless, he thought it his duty rather to hazard
all, then to neglect the commands of his soveraign;
and resolved to shew his fidelity, by nobly setting all
at stake, as he did, though he well knew how to have
secured himself, as too many others did, either by
neutrality or adhering to the rebellious party; but
his honour and loyalty was too great to be stained
with such foul adherencies.

As soon as My Lord came to Newcastle, in the first
place he sent for all his tenants and friends in those
parts, and presently raised a troop of horse consisting
of 120, and a regiment of foot, and put them under
command, and upon duty and exercise in the town
of Newcastle; and with this small beginning took
the government of that place upon him ; where with
the assistance of the townsmen, particularly the
mayor (whom by the power of his forces, he con-
tinued mayor for the year following, he being a
person of much trust and fidelity, as he approved
himself) and the rest of his brethren, within few days
he fortified the town, and raised men daily, and put
a garrison of soldiers into Tinmouth-Castle, standing
upon the River Tyne, betwixt Newcastle and the sea,
to secure that port, and armed the soldiers as well as
he could: and thus he stood upon his guard, and
continued them upon duty; playing his weak game
with much prudence, and gi^^ng the town and
country very great satisfaction by his noble and
honourable deportment.

In the mean time, there happened a great mutiny
of the trainband soldiers of the bishoprick at
Durham, so that My Lord was forced to remove
thither in person, attended with some forces to appease
them ; where at his arrival (I mention it by the way,
and as a merry passage) a jovial fellow used this

Life of the Duke 3 1

expression, that he Hked My Lord very well, but not
his company (meaning his soldiers).

After My Lord had reduced them to their obedience
and duty, he took great care of the church government
in the said bishoprick (as he did no less in all other
places committed to his care and protection, well
knowing that schism and faction in religion is the
mother of all or most rebellions, wars and disturbances
in a state or government) and constituted that learned
and eminent divine the then Dean of Peterborough,
now Lord-bishop of Durham, to view all sermons
that were to be preached, and suffer nothing in them
that in the least reflected against His Majesties person
and government, but to put forth and add whatsoever
he thought convenient, and punish those that should
trespass against it. In which that worthy person used
so much care and industry, that never the Church
could be more happily governed than it was at that
present.

Some short time after. My Lord received from Her
Majesty the Queen, out of Holland, a small supply of
money, viz. alittle barrel of ducatoons, which amounted
to about 500/. sterling; which My Lord distributed
amongst the officers of his new raised army, to
encourage them the better in their service; as also
some armes, the most part whereof were consigned to
His late Majesty; and those that were ordered to be
conveyed to His Majesty, were sent accordingly, con-
ducted by that onely troop of horse, which My Lord
had newly raised, with orders to return again to him ;
but it seems His Majesty liked the troop so well,
that he was pleased to command their stay to recruit
his own army.

About the same time the King of -.Denmark was
likewise pleased to send His Majesty a ship, which

32 The Duchess of Newcastle

arrived at Newcastle, laden with some ammunition,
armes, regiment pieces, and Danish clubs; which
My Lord kept for the furnishing of some forces which
he intended to raise for His Majesties service; for he
perceiving the flames increase more and more in both
Houses of Parliament, then sitting at Westminster,
against His Majesties person and government; upon
consultation with his friends and allies, and the
interest he had in those northern parts, took a resolu-
tion to raise an army for His Majesties service, and
by an express acquainted His Majesty with his design ;
who was so well pleased with it, that he sent him
commissions for that purpose, to constitute him
general of all the forces raised and to be raised in all
the parts of the kingdom, Trent -North, and moreover
in the several counties of Lincoln, Nottingham, Derby,
Lancashire, Cheshire, Leicester, Rutland, Cam-
bridge, Huntingdon, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex,
and commander in chief for the same; as also to
impower and authorize him to confer the honour of
knighthood upon such persons as he should conceive
deserved it, and to coin money and print whensoever
he saw occasion for it. Which as it was not onely a
great honour, but a great trust and power; so he
used it with much discretion and wisdom, onely in
such occurrencies, where he found it tending to the
advancement of His Majesties service, and conferred
the honour of knighthood sparingly, and but on such
persons whose valiant and loyal actions did justly
deserve it, so that he knighted in all to the number
of twelve.

Within a short time. My Lord formed an army of
8000 foot, horse and dragoons, and put them into a
condition to march in the beginning of November,
1642. No sooner was this effected, but the insurrec-

Life of the Duke 33

tion grew high in Yorkshire, in so much, that most
of His Majesties good subjects of that county, as well
the nobility as gentry, were forced for the preserva-
tion of their persons, to retire to the city of York, a
walled town, but of no great strength; and hearing
that My Lord had not onely kept those counties in
the northern parts generally faithful to His Majesty,
but raised an army for His Majesties interest and
the protection of his good subjects; thought it con-
venient to employ and authorise some persons of
quality to attend upon My Lord, and treat with him
on their behalf, that he would be pleased to give
them the assistance of his army, which My Lord
granted them upon such terms as did highly advance
His Majesties service, which was My Lord's chief
and onely aim.

Thus My Lord being with his army invited into
Yorkshire, he prepared for it with all the speed that
the nature of that business could possibly permit;
and after he had fortified the Town of Newcastle,
Tynmouthcastle, Hartlepool (a haven town) and
some other necessary garisons in those parts, and
manned, victualled and ordered their constant supply,
he thought it fit in the first place, before he did march,
to manifest to the world by a declaration in print, the
reasons and grounds of his undertaking that design;
which were in general, for the preservation of His
Majesties person and government, and the defence
of the orthodox Church of England; where he also
satisfied those that murmured for My Lord's recei\'ing
into his army such as were of the Catholick religion,
and then he presently marched with his army into
Yorkshire to their assistance, and within the time
agreed upon, came to York, notwithstanding the
enemies forces gave him all the interruption they

B

34 The Duchess of Newcastle

possibly could, at several passes; whereof the chief
was at Piercebridge, at the entering into Yorkshire,
where 1500 of the enemies forces, commanded in
chief by Col. Hotham, were ready to interrupt My
Lord's forces, sent thither to secure that passe,
consisting of a regiment of dragoons, commanded by
Colonel Thomas Howard, and a regiment of foot,
commanded by Sir William Lambton, which they
performed with so much courage, that they routed
the enemy, and put them to flight, although the said
Col. Howard in that charge lost his life by an un-
fortunate shot.

The enemy thus missing of their design, fled until
they m.et with a conjunction of their whole forces at
Tadcaster, some eight miles distant from York, and
My Lord went on without any other considerable
interruption. Being come to York, he drew up his
whole army before the town, both horse and foot,
where the Commander-in-Chief, the then Earl of
Cumberland, together with the gentry of the country,
came to wait on My Lord, and the then Governor of
York, Sir Thomas Glemham, presented him with
the keys of the city.

Thus My Lord marched into the town with great
joy, and to the general satisfaction both of the
nobility and gentry, and most of the citizens; and
immediately without any delay, in the later end of
December 1642, fell upon consultations how he might
best proceed to serve his king and country; and
particularly, how his army should be maintained and
paid (as he did also afterwards in every country
wheresoever he marched), well knowing that no
army can be governed without being constantly
and regularly supported by provision and pay.
Whereupon it was agreed, that the nobility and

Life of the Duke 35

gentry of the several counties, should select a certain
number of themselves to raise money by a regular
tax, for the making provisions for the support and
maintenance of the army, rather than to leave them
to free-quarter, and to carve for themselves; and if
any of the soldiers were exorbitant and disorderly, and
that it did appear so to those that were authorised
to examine their deportment, that presently order
shoidd be given to repair those injuries out of the
moneys levied for the soldiery ; by which means the
country was preserved from many inconveniences,
which otherwise would doubtless have followed.

And though the season of the year might well have
invited My Lord to take up his winter-quarters, it
being about Christmas ; yet after he had put a good
garison into the city of York, and fortified it, upon
intelligence that the enemy was still at Tadcaster,
and had fortified the place, he resolved to march
thither. The greatest part of the town stands on the
west side of a river not fordable in any place near
thereabout, nor allowing any passage into the town
from York, but over a stone-bridge, which the enemy
had made impassable by breaking down part of the
bridge, and planting their ordnance upon it, and by
raising a very large and strong fort upon the top of
a hill, leading eastward from that bridge towards
York, upon design of commanding the bridge and all
other places fit to draw up an army in, or to plant
cannon against them.

But notwithstanding all these discouragements.
My Lord after he had refreshed his army at York,,
and recruited his provisions, ordered a march before
the said town in this manner : That the greatest part
of his horse and dragoons should in the night march
to a pass at Weatherby, five miles distant from

36 The Duchess of Newcastle

Tadcaster, towards north-west, from thence under
the command of his then Lieutenant-General of the
army, to appear on the west side of Tadcaster early
the next morning, by which time My Lord with the
rest of his army resolved to appear at the east-side
of the said town ; which intention was well designed,
but ill executed ; for though My Lord with that part
of the army which he commanded in person, that
is to say, his foot and cannon, attended by some
troops of horse, did march that night, and early in
the morning appeared before the town on the east
side therof, and there drew up his army, planted his
cannon, and closely and orderly besieged that side of
the town, and from ten in the morning till four a
clock in the afternoon, battered the enemies forts
and works, as being in continual expectation of the
appearance of the troops on the other side, according
to his order; yet (whether it was out of neglect or
treachery that My Lord's orders were not obeyed)
that day's work was rendered ineffectual as to the
whole design.

However the vigilancy of My Lord did put the
enemy into such a terror, that they forsook that fort,
and secretly fled away with all their train that very
night to another strong hold not far distant from
Tadcaster, called Cawood-Castle, to which, by reason
of its low and boggy scituation, and foul and narrow
lanes and passages, it was not possible for My Lord
to pursue them without too great an hazard to his
army ; whereas had the Lieutenant-General performed
his duty, in all probability the greatest part of the
principal rebels in Yorskhire would that day have
been taken in their own trap, and their further
mischief prevented. My Lord, the next morning,
instead of storming the town (as he had intended)

Life of the Duke 37

entered without interruption, and there stayed some
few days to refresh his army, and order that part of
the country.

In December, 1642, My Lord thought it fit to
march to Pomfret, and to quarter his army in that
part of the country which was betwixt Cawood and
some garisons of the enemy, in the west part of
Yorkshire, viz. Halhfax, Bradford, Leeds, Wakefield,
etc., where he remained some time to recruit and
enlarge his army, which was much lessened by erecting
of garisons, and to keep those parts in oider and obedi-
ence to His Majesty; And after he had thus ordered
his affairs, he was enabled to give protection to those
parts of the country that were most willing to embrace
it, and quartered his army for a time in such places
which he had reduced. Tadcaster which stood upon
a pass, he made a garison or rather a strong quarter,
and put also a garison into Pomfret Castle, not above
eight miles distant from Tadcaster, which commanded
that town, and a great part of the country.

During the time that his army remained at Pomfret,
My Lord setled a garison at Newark in Nottingham-
shire, standing upon the River Trent, a very consider-
able pass, which kept the greatest part of Nottingham-
shire, and part of Lincolnshire, in obedience; and
after that he returned, in the beginning of January,
1642, back to York, with an intention to supply
himself with some ammunition, which he had ordered
to be brought from Newcastle: A convoy of horse
that were imployed to conduct it from thence, under
the command of the Lieutenant-General of the army,
the Lord Ethyn, was by the enemy at a pass, called
Yarumbridge, in Yorkshire, fiercely encountered; in
which encounter My Lord's forces totally routed
them, slew many, and took many prisoners, and most

38 The Duchess of Newcastle

of their horse colours, consisting of seventeen cornets;
and so marched on to York with their ammunition,
without any other interruption.

My Lord, after he had received this ammunition,
put his army into a condition to march, and having
intelligence that the Queen was at sea, with intention
to land in some part of the east riding of Yorkshire,
he directed his march in February, 1642, into those
parts, to be ready to attend Her Majesties landing,
who was then daily expected from Holland. Within
a short time, after it had pleased God to protect Her
Majesty both from the fury of wind and waves, there
being for several days such a tempest at sea that Her
Majesty, with all her attendance, was in danger to be
cast away every minute ; as also from the fury of the
rebels which had the whole naval power of the king-
dom then in their hands, she arrived safely at a small
port in the east riding of Yorkshire called Burlington
Key, where Her Majesty was no sooner landed, but
the enemy at sea made continual shot against her
ships inthe port, which reachednot onely Her Majesties
landing, but even the house where she lay (though
without the least hurt to any), so that she herself,
and her attendants, were forced to leave the same,
and to seek protection from a hill near that place,
under which they retired; and all that while it was
observed that Her Majesty showed as much courage
as ever any person could do ; for her undaunted and
generous spirit was like her royal birth, deriving it
self from that unparrallell'd King, her father, whose
heroic actions will be in perpetual memory whilest
the world hath a being.

My Lord finding Her Majesty in this condition,
drew his army near the place where she was, ready to
attend and protect Her Majesties person, who was

Lite of the Duke 39

pleased to take a view of the army as it was drawn
up in order; and immediately after, which was in
March, 1643, took her journey towards York, whither
the whole army conducted Her Majesty, and brought
her safe into the city. About this time, Her Majesty
ha\dng some present occasion for money. My Lord
presented her with 3000Z. sterHng, which she graci-
ously accepted of, and having spent some time there
in consultation about the present affairs, she was
pleased to send some armes and ammunition to the
King, who was then in Oxford; to which end, My
Lord ordered a party, consisting of 1500, well com-
manded, to conduct the same, with whom the Lord
Percy, who then had waited upon Her Majesty from
the King, returned to Oxford; which party His
Majesty was pleased to keep with him for his own
service.

Not long after, My Lord, who always endeavoured
to win any place or persons by fair means, rather then
by using of force, reduced to His Majesties obedience
a strong fort and castle upon the sea and a very good
haven, called Scarborough Castle, perswading the
Governour therof, who heretofore had opposed his
forces at Yarum-bridge, with such rational and con-
vincible arguments, that he wiUingly rendered himself,
and all the garison, unto His Majesties devotion;
by which prudent action My Lord highly advanced
His Majesties interest; for by that means the enemy
was much annoyed and prejudiced at sea, and a
great part in the east riding of Yorkshire kept in
due obedience.

After this. My Lord having received inteUigence
that the enemies General of the Horse had designed
to march with a party from Cawood Castle, whither
they were fled from Tadcaster, as before is^mentioned

40 The Duchess of Newcastle

to some garisons which they had in the west of York-
shire; presently ordered a party of horse, com-
manded by the General of the Horse, the Lord George
Goring, to attend the enemy in their march, who
overtook them on a moor, called Seacroft Moor, and
fell upon their rear, which caused the enemy to draw
up their forces into a body; to whom they gave a
total rout (although their number was much greater)
and took about 800 prisoners, and 10 or 12 colours
of horse, besides many that were slain in the charge ;
which prisoners were brought to York, about 10 or
12 miles distant from that same place.

Immediately after, in pursuit of that victory. My
Lord sent a considerable party into the west of
Yorkshire, where they met with about 2000 of the
enemies forces, taken out of their several garisons in
those parts, to execute some design upon a moor
called Tankerly Moor, and there fought them, and
routed them; many were slain, and some taken
prisoners.

Not long after the remainder of the army that were
left at York, marched to Leeds, in the west of York-
shire, and from thence to Wakefield, being both the
enemies quarters, to reduce and settle that part of
the country; My Lord having possessed himself of
the town of Wakefield, it being large, and of great
compass, and able to make a strong quarter, ordered
it accordingly; and receiving intelhgence that in two
market -towns south-west from Wakefield, viz. Rother-
ham and Sheffield, the enemy was very busie to raise
forces against His Majesty, and had fortified them
both about four miles distant from each other, hoping
thereby to give protection and encouragement to all
those parts of the country which were populous,
rich and rebellious, he thought it necessary to use

Life of the Duke 41

his best endeavours to blast those their wicked designs
in the bud ; and thereupon took a resolution in April
1643, to march with part of his army from Wakefield
into the mentioned parts, attended with a convenient
train of artillery and ammunition, leaving the greatest
part of it at Wakefield with the remainder of his
army, under the care and conduct of his General of
the Horse, and Major-General of the army, which
was so considerable, both in respect of their number
and provision, that they did, as they might well,
conceive themselves master of the field in those
parts, and secure in that quarter, although in the
end it proved not so, as shall hereafter be declared^
which must necessarily be imputed to their invigilancy
and carelessness.

My Lord first marched to Rotherham, and finding
that the enemy had placed a garison of soldiers in
that town, and fortified it, he drew up his army in
the morning against the town, and summoned it ; but
they refusing to yield. My Lord fell to work with his
cannon and musket, and within a short time took it
by storm, and entered the town that very night;
some enemies of note that were found therein, were
taken prisoners; and as for the common soldiers,
which were by the enemy forced from their allegiance,
he shewed such clemency to them, that very many
willingly took up arms for his Majesties service, and
proved very faithful and loyal subjects, and good
soldiers.

After My Lord had stayed two or three dayes there,
and ordered those parts, he marched with his army
to Sheffield, another market-town of large extent,
in which there was an ancient castle; which when
the enemies forces that kept the town came to hear
of, being terrified with the fame of My Lord's hitherto

B2

42 The Duchess of Newcastle

victorious army, they fled away from thence into
Derbyshire, and left both town and castle (without
any blow) to My Lord's mercy ; and though the people
in the town were most of them rebelliously affected,
yet My Lord so prudently ordered the business, that
within a short time he reduced most of them to their
allegiance by love, and the rest by fear, and recruited
his army daily ; he put a garison of soldiers into the
castle, and fortified it in all respects, and constituted
a gentleman of quality Governour both of the castle,
town and country; and finding near that place some
iron works, he gave present order for the casting of
iron cannon for his garisons, and for the making of
other instruments and engines of war.

Within a short time after, my Lord receiving
intelligence that the enemy in the garisons near
Wakefield had united themselves, and being drawn
into a body in the night time, had surprised and
entered the town of Wakefield, and taken all or most
of the ofiicers and soldiers, left there, prisoners
(amongst whom was also the general of the horse,
the Lord Goring, whom My Lord afterwards redeemed
by exchange) and possessed themselves of the whole
magazine, which was a very great loss and hinderance
to My Lord's designs, it being the moity of his army,
and most of his ammunition, he fell upon new counsels
and resolved without any delay to march from thence
back towards York, which was in May 1643, where
after he had rested some time, Her Majesty being
resolved to take her journey towards the southern
parts of the kingdom, where the King was, designed
first to go from York to Pomfret, whither My Lord
ordered the whole marching army to be in readiness
to conduct Her Majesty, which they did, he himself
attending Her Majesty^^in person. And after Her

Life of the Duke 43

Majesty had rested there some small time, she being
desirous to proceed in her intended journey, no less
then a formed army was able to secure her person:
Wherefore My Lord was resolved out of his fidelity
and duty to supply her with an army of 7000 horse
and foot, besides a convenient train of artillery, for
her safer conduct; chusing rather to leave himself
in a weak condition (though he was even then very
near the enemies garisons in that part of the country)
then suffer Her Majesties person to be exposed to
danger. Which army of 7000 men, when Her Majesty
was safely arrived to the King, he was pleased to
keep with him for his own service.

After Her Majesties departure out of Yorkshire,
My Lord was forced to recruit again his army, and
within a short time, viz. in June, 1643, took a resolu-
tion to march into the enemies quarters, in the
western parts; in which march he met with a strong
stone house well fortified, called Howley House,
wherein was a garison of soldiers, which My Lord
summoned; but the governour disobeying the
summons, he battered it with his cannon, and so
took it by force ; the governour having quarter given
him contrary to My Lord's orders, was brought before
My Lord by a person of quality, for which the officer
that brought him received a check; and though he
resolved then to kill him, yet My Lord would not
suffer him to do it, saying. It was inhumane to kill
any man in cold blood. Hereupon the governour
kissed the key of the house door, and presented it
to My Lord ; to which My Lord returned this answer :
/ need it not, said he, for I brought a key along with me,
which yet I was unwilling to use, until you forced me
to it.

At this house My Lord remained five or six days.

44 The Duchess of Newcastle

till he had refreshed his soldiers; and then a resolu-
tion was taken to march against a garison of the
enemies called Bradford, a little but a strong town;
in the way he met with a strong interruption by the
enemy drawing forth a vast number of musquetiers,
which they had very privately gotten out of Lanca-
shire, the next adjoining county to those parts of
Yorkshire, which had so easie an access to them at
Bradford, by reason the whole country was of their
party, that My Lord could not possibly have any
constant intelligence of their designs and motions;
for in their army there were near 5000 musquetiers,
and 18 troops of horse, drawn up in a place full of
hedges, called Atherton-moor, near to their garison
at Bradford, ready to encounter My Lord's forces,
which then contained not above half so many mus-
quetiers as the enemy had; their chiefest strength
consisting in horse, and these made useless for a long
time together by the enemies horse possessing all the
plain ground upon that field; so that no place was
left to draw up My Lord's horse, but amongst old
coalpits: neither could they charge the enemy, by
reason of a great ditch and high bank betwixt M\^
Lord's and the enemies troops, but by two on a breast,
and that within musquet shot; the enemy being
drawn up in hedges, and continually playing upon
them, which rendered the service exceeding difficult
and hazardous.

In the mean while the foot of both sides on the right
and left wings encountered each other, who fought
from hedge to hedge, and for a long time together
overpowered and got ground of My Lord's foot,
almost to the invironing of his cannon; My Lord's
horse (wherein consisted his greatest strength) all
this while being made, by reason of the ground.

Life of the Duke 45

incapable of charging; at last the pikes of My Lord's
army having had no emplo5mient all the day, were
drawn against the enemies left wing, and particularly
those ol My Lord's own regiment, which were all
stout and valiant men, who fell so furiously upon
the enemy, that they forsook their hedges, and fell to
their heels : at which very instant My Lord caused a
shot or two to be made by his cannon against the
body of the enemies horse, drawn up within cannon
shot, which took so good effect, that it disordered
the enemies troops; hereupon My Lord's horse got
over the hedge, not in a body (for that they could not),
but dispersedly two on a breast ; and as soon as some
considerable number was gotten over, and drawn up,
they charged the enemy, and routed them; so that
in an instant there was a strange change of fortune,
and the field totally won by My Lord, notwithstanding
he had quitted 7000 men, to conduct Her Majesty,
besides a good train of artillery, which in such a con-
juncture would have weakened Caesar's army. In
this victory the enemy lost most of their foot, about
3000 were taken prisoners, and 700 horse and foot
slain, and those that escaped fled into their garison
at Bradford, amongst whom was also their general
of the horse. Sir Thos. Fairfax.

After this My Lord caused his army to be rallied,
and marched in order that night before Bradford,
with an intention to storm it the next morning; but
the enemy that were in the town, it seems, were so
discomfited, that the same night they escaped all
various ways, and amongst them the said general of
the horse, whose lady being behind a servant on
horseback, was taken by some of My Lord's soldiers,
and brought to his quarters, where she was treated
and attended with all civility and respect, and within

46 The Duchess of Newcastle

few days sent to York in My Lord's own coach, and
from thence very shortly after to Kingstone upon
Hull, where she desired to be, attended by My Lord's
coach and servants.

Thus My Lord, after the enemy was gone, entered the
town and garison of Bradford, by which victory the
enemy was so daunted, that they forsook the rest of
their garisons, that is to say, Halhfax, Leeds and
Wakefield, and dispersed themselves severally, the
chief of&cers retiring to Hull, a strong garison of the
enemy; and though My Lord, knowing they would
make their escape thither, as having no other place
of refuge to resort to, sent a letter to York to the
Governour of that city, to stop them in their passage ;
yet by neglect of the post, it coming not timely enough
to his hands, his design was frustrated.

The whole county of York, save onely Hull, being
now cleared and setled by My Lord's care and con-
duct, he marched to the city of York, and having a
competent number of horse well armed and com-
manded, he quartered them in the east riding, near
Hull, there being no visible enemy then to oppose
them: In the mean while My Lord receiving news
that the enemy had made an invasion into the next
adjoining county of Lincoln, where he had some
forces, he presently dispatched his Lieutenant-General
of the army away with some horse and dragoons, and
soon after marched thither himself with the body of
the army, being earnestly desired by His Majesties
party there. The forces which My Lord had in the
same county, commanded by the then Lieutenant-
General of the Horse, Mr. Charles Cavendish, second
brother to the now Earl of Devonshire, though they
had timely notice, and orders from My Lord to make
their retreat to the Lieutenant-General of the army,

Life of the Duke 47

and not to fight the enemy; yet the said Lieutenant-
General of the Horse being transported by his courage
(he being a person of great valour and conduct) and
having charged the enemy, unfortunately lost the
field, and himself was slain in the charge, his horse
fighting in a bogg: which news being brought to
My Lord when he was on his march, he made all the
hast he could, and was no sooner joined with his
Lieutenant-General, but fell upon the enemy, and put
them to flight.

The first garison My Lord took in Lincolnshire
was Gainsborrough, a town standing upon the River
Trent, wherein (not long before) had been a garison
of soldiers for His Majesty, under the command of
the then Earl of Kingstone, but surprised, and the
town taken by the enemies forces, who having an
intention to conveigh the said Earl of Kingstone
from thence to Hull in a Httle pinnace, met with some
of My Lord's forces by the way commanded by the
Lieutenant of the army, who being desirous to rescue
the Earl of Kingstone, and making some shots with
their regiment pieces, to stop the pinnace, unfortun-
ately slew him and one of his servants.

My Lord drawing near the mentioned town of
Gainsborrough, there appeared on the top of a hill
above the town, some of the enemies horse drawn
up in a body; whereupon he immediately sent a
party of his horse to view them ; who no sooner came
within their sight, but they retreated fairly so long
as they could well endure; but the pursuit of My
Lord's horse caused them presently to break their
ranks, and fall to their heels, where most of them
escaped, and fled to Lincoln, another of their garisons.
Hereupon My Lord summoned the town of Gains-
borrough ; but the Governour thereof refusing to yield.

48 The Duchess of Newcastle

caused My Lord to plant his cannon, and draw up
his army on the mentioned hill; and having played
some little while upon the town, put the enemy into
such a terror, that the Governour sent out, and offered
the surrender of the town upon fair terms, which My
Lord thought fit rather to embrace, then take it by
force ; and though according to the articles of agree-
ment made between them, both the enemies arms
and the keys of the town should have been fairly
dehvered to My Lord ; yet it being not performed as
it was expected, the arms being in a confused manner
thrown down, and the gates set wide open, the
prisoners that had been kept in the town began first
to plunder; which My Lord's forces seeing, did the
same, although it was against My Lord's will and
orders.

After My Lord had thus reduced the town, and put
a good garison of soldiers into it, and better fortified
it, he marched before Lincoln, and there he entered
with his army without great difficulty, and placed
also a garison in it, and raised a considerable army,
both horse, foot, and dragoons, for the preservation
of that county, and put them under commanders,
and constituted a person of honour Commander-in-
Chief, with intention to march towards the south,
which if it had taken effect, would doubtless have
made an end of that war; but he being daily impor-
tuned by the nobility and gentry of Yorkshire, to
return into that county, especially upon the per-
swasions of the Commander-in-Chief of the forces left
there, who acquainted My Lord that the enemy grew
so strong every day, being got together in Kingstone
upon Hull, and annoying that country, that his
forces were not able to bear up against them ; alledg-
ing withall, that My Lord would be suspected to

Life of the Duke 49

betray the trust reposed in him, if he came not to
succour and assist them ; he went back with his army
for the protection of that same country, and when he
arrived there, which was in August, 1643, he found
the enemy of so small consequence, that they did all
flie before him. About this time His Majesty was
pleased to honour My Lord for his true and faithfrJ
service, with the title of Marquess of Newcastle.

My Lord being returned into Yorkshire forced the
enemy first from a town called Beverly, wherein they
had a garison of soldiers ; and from thence, upon the
entreaty of the nobiUty and gentry of Yorkshire,
(as before is mentioned) who promised him ten
thousand men for that pui-pose, though they came
short of their performance, marched near the town of
Kingstone upon Hull, and besieged that part of the
garison that bordered on Yorkshire, for a certain
time; in which time the enemy took the courage to
sally out of the town with a strong party of horse and
foot very early in the morning, with purpose to have
forced the quarters of a regiment of My Lord's horse,
that were quartered next the town; but by the
vigilancy of their commander, Sir Marmaduke
Langdale, afterwards Lord Langdale, his forces being
prepared for their reception, they received such a
welcome as cost many of them their lives, most of
their foot (but such as were slain) being taken
prisoners ; and those of their horse that escaped, got
into their hold at Hull.

The enemy thus seeing that they could do My
Lord's army no further damage on that side of the
river in Yorkshire, endeavoured by all means (from
Hull, and other confederate places in the Eastern
parts of the kingdom) to form a considerable party to
annoy and disturb the forces raised by My Lord in

50 The Duchess of Newcastle

Lincolnshire, and left there for the protection of that
county ; where the enemy being drawn together in a
body, fought My Lord's forces in his absence, and got
the honour of the day near Hornby Castle in that
county ; which loss, caused partly by their own rash-
ness, forced My Lord to leave his design upon Hull,
and to march back with his army to York, which was
in October, 1643, where he remained but a few days
to refresh his army, and receiving intelligence that
the enemy was got into Derbyshire, and did grow
nimierous there, and busie in seducing the people,
that country being under My Lord's command, he
resolved to direct his march thither in the beginning
of November, 1643, to suppress their further growth;
and to that end quartered his army at Chesterfield,
and in all the parts thereabout, for a certain time.

Immediately after his departure from York to
Pomfret, in his said march into Derbyshire, the city
of York sent to my Lord to inform him of their inten-
tion to chuse another mayor for the year following,
desiring his pleasure about it: My Lord, who knew
that the mayor for the year before, was a person of
much loyalty and discretion, declared his mind to
them, That he thought it fit to continue him mayor
also for the year following; which it seems they did
not like, but resolved to chuse one which they pleased,
contrary to My Lord's desire. My Lord perceiving
their intentions, about the time of the election, sent
orders to the govemour of the city of York, to permit
such forces to enter into the city as he should send;
which being done accordingly, they upon the day of
the election repaired to the town-hall, and with their
arms staid there until they had continued the said
mayor according to my Lord's desire.

During the time of My Lord's stay at Chesterfield

Life of the Duke 51

in Derbyshire, he ordered some part of his army to
march before a strong house and garison of the
enemies, called Wingfield Mannor, which in a short
time they took by storm. And when My Lord had
raised in that county as many forces, horse and foot,
as were supposed to be sufficient to preserve it from
the fury of the enemy, he armed them, and con-
stituted an honourable person Commander-in-Chief
of all the forces of that county, and of Leicestershire ;
and so leaving it in that condition, marched in
December 1643, from Chesterfield to Bolsover in the
same county, and from thence to Welbeck in Notting-
hamshire, to his own house and garison, in which
parts he staid some time, both to refresh his army,
and to settle and reform some disorders he found
there, leaving no visible enemy behind him in Derby-
shire, save onely an inconsiderable party in the town
of Derby, which they had fortified, not worth the
labour to reduce it.

About this time the report came, that a great army
out of Scotland, was upon their march towards the
northern parts of England, to assist the enemy against
His Majesty, which forced the nobihty and gentry of
Yorkshire to invite My Lord back again into those
parts, with promise to raise for his service an army of
10,000 men; My Lord (not upon this proffer, which
had already heretofore deceived him, but out of his
loyalty and duty to preserve those parts which were
committed to his care and protection) returned in the
middle of January 1643. And when he came there,
he found not one man raised to assist him against so
powerful an army, nor an intention of raising any;
wherefore he was necessitated to raise himself, out
of the countrey, what forces he could get, and when
he had settled the affairs in Yorkshire as well as

52 The Duchess of Newcastle

time and his present condition would permit, and
constituted an honourable person governour of York
and Commander-in-Chief of a very considerable party
of horse and foot for the defence of the county (for
Sr. Thomas Glemham was then made colonel general,
and marched into the field v/ith the army) he took
his march to Newcastle in the beginning of February
1643, to give a stop to the Scots army.

Presently after his coming thither with some of
his troups, before his whole army was come up, he
received inteUigence of the Scots armie's near ap-
proach, whereupon he sent forth a party of horse to
view them, who found them very strong, to the
number of 22,000 horse and foot well armed and
commanded: they marched up towards the town
with such confidence, as if the gates had been opened
for their reception; and the general of their army
seemed to take no notice of My Lord's being in it,
for which afterwards he excused himself ; but as they
drew near, they found not such entertainment as they
expected ; for though they assaulted a work that was
not finished, yet they were beaten off with much loss.

The enemy being thus stopt before the town,
thought fit to quarter near it, in that part of the
country; and so soon as my Lord's army was come
up, he designed one night to have fallen into their
quarter ; but by reason of some neglect of his orders
in not giving timely notice to the party designed for
it, it took not an effect answerable to his expectation.
In a word, there were three designs taken against the
enemy, whereof if one had but hit, they would
doubtless have been lost; but there was so much
treachery, jughng and falsehood in My Lord's own
army, that it was impossible for him to be successful
in his designs and undertakings. However, though it

Life of the Duke 53

failed in the enemies foot-quarters, which lay nearest
the town; yet it took good effect in their horse-
quarters, which were more remote; for My Lord's
horse, commanded by a very gallant and worthy
gentleman falling upon them, gave them such an
alarm, that all they could do, was to draw into the
field, where My Lord's forces charged them, and in a
little time routed them totally, and killed and took
many prisoners, to the number of 1500.

Upon this the enemy was forced to draw their
whole army together, and to quarter them a little
more remote from the town, and to seek out inac-
cessible places for their security, as afterwards
appeared more plainly ; for so soon as My Lord had
prepared his army for a march, he drew them forth
against the Scots, which he found quartered upon
high hills close by the River Tyne, where they could
not be encountered but upon very disadvantagious
terms; besides, that day proved very stormy and
tempestuous, so that My Lord was necessitated to
withdraw his forces, and retire into his own quarters.

The next day after, the Scots army finding ill
harbour in those quarters, marched from hill to hill
into another part of the Bishoprick of Durham, near
the sea coast, to a town called Sunderland; and
thereupon My Lord thought fit to march to Durham,
to stop their further progress, where he had contrived
the business so, that they were either forced to fight
or starve within a little time. The first was offered
to them twice, that is to say, at Pensher-hills one day,
and at Bowden-hills another day in the Bishoprick
of Durham : but My Lord found them at both times
drawn up in such places, as he could not possibly
charge them; wherefore he retired again to Durham,
with an intention to streighten their quarters, and to

54 The Duchess of Newcastle

wait upon them, if ever they left their holds and
inaccessible places. In the mean time it happened that
the Earl of Montross came to the same place, and
having some design for his Majesties service in Scot-
land, desired My Lord to give him the assistance of
some of his forces ; and although My Lord stood then
in present need of them, and could not conveniently
spare any, having so great an army to oppose; yet
out of a desire to advance His Majesties service as
much as lay in his power, he was willing to part with
200 horse and dragoons to the said earl.

The Scots perceiving My Lord's vigilancy and care,
contented themselves with their own quarters, which
could not have served them long, but that a great
misfortune befel My Lord's forces in Yorkshire; for
the governour whom he had left behind with sufficient
forces for the defence of that country, although he
had orders not to encounter the enemy, but to keep
himself in a defensive posture; yet he being a man
of great valour and courage, it transported him so
much that he resolved to face the enemy, and offering
to keep a town that was not tenable, was utterly
routed, and himself taken prisoner, although he
fought most gallantly.

So soon as My Lord received this sad intelligence,
he upon consultation, and upon very good grounds
of reason, took a resolution not to stay between the
two armies of the enemies, viz. the Scots and the
English, that had prevailed in Yorkshire; but
immediately to march into Yorkshire with his army,
to preserve (if possible) the city of York out of the
enemies hands: which retreat was ordered so well,
and with such excellent conduct, that though the
army of the Scots marched close upon their rear, and
fought them every day of their retreat, yet they

Life of the Duke 55

gained several passes for their security, and entered
safe and well into the city of York, in April 1643.

My Lord being now at York, and finding three
armies against him, viz. the army of the Scots, the
army of the English that gave the defeat to the
governour of York, and an army that was raised out
of associate counties, and but little ammunition and
provision in the town; was forced to send his horse
away to quarter in several counties, viz. Derbyshire,
Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire, for their subsistence
under the conduct of his Lieutenant-General of the
Horse, my dear brother Sir Charles Lucas, himself
remaining at York, with his foot and train for the
defence of that city.

In the mean time, the enemy having closely
besiedged the city on all sides, came to the very gates
thereof, and pulled out the earth at one end, as those
in the city put it in at the other end; they planted
their great cannons against it, and threw in granadoes
at pleasure : but those in the city made several sallies
upon them with good success. At last, the general
of the associate army of the enemy, having closely
beleaguered the north side of the town, sprung a mine
under the wall of the mannor yard, and blew part
of it up; and having beaten back the town forces
(although they behaved themselves very gallantly)
entered the mannor-house with a great number of
their men, which as soon as my Lord perceived, he
went away in all haste, even to the amazement of all
that were by, not knowing what he intended to do;
and drew 80 of his own regiment of foot, called the
white coats all stout and vaHant men, to that post,
who fought the enemy with that courage, that within
a little time they killed and took 1500 of them ; and
My Lord gave present order to make up the breach

56 The Duchess of Newcastle

which they had made in the wall; whereupon the
enemy remained without any other attempt in that
kind, so long, till almost all provision for the support
of the soldiery in the city was spent, which neverthe-
less was so well ordered by My Lord's prudence, that
no famine or great extremity of want ensued.

My Lord having held out in that manner above two
months, and withstood the strength of three armies;
and seeing that his Lieutenant-General of the Horse
whom he had sent for relief to His Majesty, could not
so soon obtain it (although he used his best endeavour)
for to gain yet some little time, began to treat with
the enemy; ordering in the mean while, and upon
the treaty, to double and treble his guards. At last
after three months time from the beginning of the
siege. His Majesty was pleased to send an army,
which joining with My Lord's horse that were sent
to quarter in the aforesaid countreys, came to relieve
the city under the conduct of the most gallant and
heroick Prince Rupert, his nephew; upon whose
approach near York, the enemy drew from before
the city, into an entire body, and marched away on
the west-side of the River Owse, that runs through the
city, His Majesties forces being then of the east-side
of that river.

My Lord immediately sent some persons of quality
to attend His Highness, and to invite him into the
city to consult with him about that important affair,
and to gain so much time as to open a port to march
forth with his cannon and foot which were in the town,
to join with His Highness's forces; and went himself
the next day in person to wait on His Highness;
where after some conferences, he declared his mind
to the Prince, desiring His Highness not to attempt
any thing as yet upon the enemy ; for he had intelli-

Life of the Duke 57

gence that there was some discontent between them,
and that they were resolved to divide themselves, and
so to raise the siege, without fighting: besides, My
Lord expected within two dayes, Collonel Cleavering,
with above three thousand men out of the north,
and two thousand drawn out of several garisons,
(who also came at the same time, though it was then
too late). But His Highness answered My Lord, that
he had a letter from His Majesty (then at Oxford)
with a positive and absolute command to fight the
enemy; which in obedience, and according to his
duty he was bound to perform. Whereupon My Lord
replied, that he was ready and wilHng for his part,
to obey His Highness in all things, no otherwise then
if His Majesty was there in person himself; and
though several of My Lord's friends advised him not
to engage in battel, because the command (as they
said) was taken from him: yet My Lord answered
them, that happen what would, he would not shun
to fight, for he had no other ambition but to live and
dye a loyal subject to His Majesty.

Then the Prince and My Lord conferred with
several of their ofiicers, amongst whom there were
several disputes concerning the advantages which the
enemy had of sun, wind and ground. The horse of
His Majesties forces was drawn up in both wings upon
that fatal moor called Hessom-Moor; and My Lord
asked His Highness what service he would be pleased
to command him; who returned this answer. That
he would begin no action upon the enemy, till early
in the morning; desiring My Lord to repose himself
till then. Which My Lord did, and went to rest in his
own coach that was close by in the field, until the
time appointed.

Not long had My Lord been there, but he heard a

58 The Duchess of Newcastle

great noise and thunder of shooting, which gave him
notice of the armies being engaged: whereupon he
immediately put on his arms, and was no sooner got
on horseback, but he beheld a dismal sight of the
horse of His Majesties right wing, which out of a
panick fear had left the field, and run away with all
the speed they could; and though My Lord made
them stand once, yet they immediately betook them-
selves to their heels again, and killed even those of
their own party that endeavoured to stop them;
the left wing in the mean time, commanded by those
two valiant persons, the Lord Goring, and Sir Charles
Lucas, having the better of the enemies right wing,
which they beat back most valiantly three times, and
made their general retreat, in so much that they
sounded victory.

In this confusion My Lord (accompanied onely with
his brother Sir Charles Cavendish, Major Scot, Capt.
Mazine, and his page) hastening to see in what posture
his own regiment was, met with a troop of gentle-
men-voluntiers, who formerly had chosen him their
captain, notwithstanding he was general of an army ;
to whom My Lord spake after this manner : Gentlemen,
said he, You have done me the honour to chuse me your
captain, and now is the fittest time that I may do you
service ; wherefore if you'l follow me, I shall lead you
on the best I can, and shew you the way to your own
honour. They being as glad of My Lord's profer, as
My Lord was of their readiness, went on with the
greatest courage; and passing through two bodies
of foot, engaged with each other not at forty yards
distance, received not the least hurt, although they
fired quick upon each other; but marched towards
a Scots regiment of foot, which they charged and
routed; in which encounter My Lord himself killed

Life of the Duke 59

three with his page's half-leaded sword, for he had
no other left him; and though all the gentlemen in
particular offered him their swords, yet My Lord
refused to take a sword of any of them. At last, after
they had passed through this regiment of foot, a pike
man made a stand to the whole troop; and though
My Lord charged him t\^dce or thrice, yet he coidd
not enter him ; but the troop dispatched him soon.

In all these encounters My Lord got not the least
hurt, though several were slain about him; and his
white coats shewed such an extraordinary valour and
courage in that action, that they were killed in rank
and file : and here I cannot but mention by the way,
that it is remarkable, that in all actions and under-
takings where My Lord was in person himself, he was
always victorious, and prospered in the execution
of his designs ; but whatsoever was lost or succeeded
ill, happened in his absence, and was caused either
by the treachery, or neghgence and carelessness of hift
officers.

My Lord being the last in the field, and seeing tli>j,t
all was lost, and that every one of His Majesties party
made their escapes in the best manner they C(t)uld;
he being moreover inquired after by several of his
friends, who had all a great love and respect for My
Lord, especially by the then Earl of Craford (who
loved My Lord so well that he gave 20s. to one that
assured him of his being alive and safe, telling him,
that that was all he had) went towards York late at
night, accompanied onely with his brother, and one
or two of his servants ; and coming near the town, met
His Highness Prince Rupert, with the Lieutenant-
General of the army, the Lord Ethyn ; His Highness
asked My Lord how the business went? To whom he
answered, that all was lost and gone on their side.

6o The Duchess of Newcastle

That night My Lord remained in York ; and having
nothing left in his power to do His Majesty any further
service in that kind; for he had neither ammunition
nor money to raise more forces, to keep either York,
or any other towns that were yet in His Majesties
devotion, well knowing that those which were left
could not hold out long, and being also loath to have
aspersions cast upon him, that he did sell them to the
enemy, in case he could not keep them, he took a
resolution, and that justly and honourably, to forsake
the kingdom ; and to that end, went the next morning
to the Prince, and acquainted him with his design,
desiring His Highness would be pleased to give this
true and just report of him to His Majesty, that he
had behaved himself like an honest m^an, a gentleman,
and a loyal subject. Which request the Prince having
granted. My Lord took his leave; and being con-
ducted by a troop of horse, and a troop of dragoons
to Scarborough, went to sea, and took shipping for
Hamborough; the gentry of the country, who also
came to take their leaves of My Lord, being much
troubled at his departure, and speaking very honour-
ably of him, as surely they had no reason to the
contrary.

THE SECOND BOOK

Having hitherto faithfully related the life of my
noble Lord and husband, and the chief actions which
he performed during the time of his being employed in
His Majesties service for the good and interest of his
king and country, until the time of his going out of
England, I shall now give you a just account of all
that passed during the time of his banishment, till
the return into his native country.

My Lord being a wise man, and forseeing well
what the loss of that fatal battle upon Hessom-moor,
near York, would produce, by which not onely those
of His Majesties party in the northern parts of the
kingdom, but in all other parts of His Majesties
dominions both in England, Scotland, and Ireland
w^ere lost and undone, and that there was no other
way, but either to quit the kingdom, or submit to
the emeny, or die, he resolved upon the former, and
preparing for his journey, asked his steward how
much money he had left ? Who answered, that he had
but 90Z. My Lord not being at all startled at so simaU
a summ, although his present design required much
more, was resolved to seek his fortune, even with that
little; and thereupon having taken leave of His
Highness Prince Rupert, and the rest that were
present, went to Scarborough (as before is mentioned)
where two ships were prepared for Hamborough to
set sail within 24 hours, in which he embarqued with
his company, and arrived in four days time to the
said city, which was on the 8th of July, 1644.

61

62 The Duchess ot Newcastle

In one of these ships was My Lord, with his two
sons, Charles Viscount Mansfield, and Lord Henry
Cavendish, now Earl of Ogle; as also Sir Charles
Cavendish, My Lord's brother ; the then Lord Bishop
of Londonderry, Dr. Bramhall; the Lord Falcon-
bridge, the Lord Widdrington, Sir William Carnaby,
who after died at Paris, and his brother, Mr. Francis
Carnaby, who went presently in the same ship back
again for England, and soon after was slain by the
enemy, near Sherborne in Yorkshire, besides many of
My Lord's and their servants. In the other ship was
the Earl of Ethyne, Lieutenant-General of My Lord's
army, and the Lord Cornworth. But before My Lord
landed at Hamborough, his eldest son Charles, Lord
Mansfield, fell sick of the small-pox, and not long
after his younger son, Henry, now Earl of Ogle, fell
likewise dangerously iU of the measels ; but it pleased
God that they both happily recovered.

My Lord finding his company and charge very
great, although he sent several of his servants back
again into England, and having no means left to
maintain him, was forced to seek for credit; where
at last he got so much as would in part relieve his
necessities ; and whereas heretofore he had been con-
tented, for want of a coach, to make use of a waggon
when his occasions drew him abroad, he was now
able (with the credit he had got) to buy a coach and
nine horses of an Holsatian breed ; for which horses he
paid i6ol., and was afterwards offered for one of them
an hundred pistols at Paris, but he refused the money,
and presented seven of them to Her Majesty the Queen-
Mother of England, and kept two for his own use.

After My Lord had stayed in Hamborough from
July 1644, till February 1644-5, he being resolved to
go into France, went by sea from Hamborough to

Life of the Duke 63:

Amsterdam, and from thence to Rotterdam, where he
sent one of his servants with a complement and tender
of his humble service to Her Highness, the then
Princess Royal, the Queen of Bohemia, the Princess
Dowager of Orange, and the Prince of Orange, which
was received with much kindness and civility.

From Rotterdam he directed his journey to
Antwerp, and from thence, with one coach, one
chariot, and two waggons, he went to Mechlin and
Brussels, where he received a visit from the governour,
the Marquess of Castel Rodrigo, the Duke of Lorrain,
and Count Piccolomini.

From thence he set forth for Valenchin and Cam-
bray, where the Governour of the town used My
Lord with great respect and civility, and desired him
to give the word that night. Thence he went to
Peroon, a frontier town in France (where the vice-
governour, in absence of the governour of that place,
did likewise entertain My Lord with all respect, and
desired him to give the word that night), and so to
Paris without any further stay.

My Lord being arrived at Paris, which was in April,
1645, immediately went to tender his humble duty to
Her Majesty, the Queen-Mother of England, where it
was my fortune to see him the first time, I being then
one of the Maids of Honour to Her Majesty; and
after he had stayed there some time, he was pleased to
take some particular notice of me, and express more
than an ordinary affection for me; insomuch that he
resolved to chuse me for his second wife; for he,
having but two sons, purposed to marry me, a young
woman that might prove fruitful to him and encrease
his posterity by a mascuHne offspring. Nay, he was
so desirous of male-issue, that I have heard him say,
he cared not (so God would be pleased to give him.

64 The Duchess of Newcastle

many sons), although they came to be persons of the
meanest fortunes ; but God (it seems) had ordered it
otherwise, and frustrated his designs by making me
barren, which yet did never lessen his love and
affection for me.

After My Lord was married, having no estate or
means left him to maintain himself and his family,
he was necessitated to seek for credit, and live upon
the courtesie of those that were pleased to trust him ;
which although they did for somewhile. and shewed
themselves very civil to My Lord, yet they grew
weary at length, insomuch that his steward was
forced one time to tell him, that he was not able to
provide a dinner for him, for his creditors were
resolved to trust him no longer. My Lord being
always a great master of his passions, was, at least
shewed himself not in any manner troubled at it, but
in a pleasant humour told me, that I must of necessity
pawn my cloaths to make so much money as would
procure a dinner. I answered, that my cloaths would
be but of small value, and therefore desired my wating-
maid, to pawn some small toys, which I had formerly
given her, which she willingly did. The same day in
the afternoon. My Lord spake himself to his creditors,
and both by his civil deportment, and perswasive
arguments, obtained so much that they did not onely
trust him for more necessaries, but lent him mony
besides to redeem those toys that were pawned.
Hereupon I sent my waiting-maid into England to
my brother, the Lord Lucas, for that small portion
which was left me, and My Lord also immediately
after dispatched one of his servants, who was then
governour to his sons, to some of his friends, to try
what means he could procure for his subsistance ; but
though he used all the industry and endeavour he

Life of the Duke 65

could, yet he effected but little, by reason everybody
was so affraid of the parliament, that they durst not
relieve him, who was counted a traitor for his honest
and loyal service to his king and country.

Not long after. My Lord had profers made him of
some rich matches in England for his two sons, whom
therefore he sent thither with one Mr. Loving, hoping
by that means to provide both for them and himself;
but they being arrived there, out of some reasons
best known to them, declared their unwilHngness to
marry as yet, continuing nevertheless in England,
and Hving as well as they could.

Some two years after My Lord's marriage, when
he had prevailed so far with his creditors, that they
began to trust him anew, the first thing he did was,
that he removed out of those lodgings in Paris, where
he had been necessitated to live hitherto, to a house
which he hired for himself and his family, and fur-
nished it as well as his new gotten credit would
permit ; and withal, resolving for his own recreation
and divertisement in his banished condition, to
exercise the art of mannage, which he is a great lover
and master of, bought a Barbary-horse for that
purpose, which cost him 200 pistols, and soon after
another Barbary-horse from the Lord Crofts, for which
he was to pay him 100/. when he returned into England.

About this time, there was a council called at St.
Germain, in which were present, besides My Lord,
Her Majesty the now Queen Mother of England; His
Highness the Prince, our now gracious King, his
cousin Prince Rupert; the Marquess of Worcester,
the then Marquess, now Duke of Ormond, the Lord
Jermyn now Earl of St. Albans, and several others;
where after several debates concerning the then
present condition of His Majesty King Charles the

c

66 The Duchess of Newcastle

First, My Lord delivered his sentiment, that he could
perceive no other probability of procuring forces for
His Majesty, but an assistance of the Scots; but Her
Majesty was pleased to answer My Lord, that he was
too quick.

Not long after, when My Lord had begun to settle
himself in his mentioned new house, his gracious
master the prince, having taken a resolution to go
into Holland upon some designs, Her Majesty the
Queen Mother desired My Lord to follow him, promis-
ing to engage for his debts which hitherto he had
contracted at Paris, and commanding her controller
and treasurer to be bound for them in her behalf;
which they did, although the creditors would not
content themselves, until My Lord had joined his
word to theirs ; so great and generous was the bounty
and favour of Her Majesty to My Lord! considering
she had already given him heretofore near upon 2000/.
sterling, even at that time when Her Majesty stood
most in need of it.

My Lord, after His Highness the Prince was gone,
being ready to execute Her Majesties commands in
following him, and preparing for his journey, wanted
the chief thing, which was money ; and having much
endeavoured for it, at last had the good fortune to
obtain upon credit three or four hundred pounds
sterl. With which sum he set out of Paris in the same
equipage he entered, viz. one coach, which he had
newly caused to be made (wherein were the Lord
Widdrington, My Lord's brother Sir Charles Cavendish,
Mr. Loving, my waiting-maid, and some others,
whereof the two later were then returned out of
England) one little chariot, that would onely hold
My Lord and my self; and three waggons, besides
an indifferent number of servants on horseback.

Life of the Duke 67

That day when we left Paris, the creditors coming
to take their farewell of My Lord, expressed so great
a love and kindness for him, accompanied with so
many hearty prayers and wishes, that he could not
but prosper on his journey.

Being come into the King of Spain's dominions.
My Lord found a very noble reception. At Cambray
the governour was so civil, that My Lord coming to
that place somewhat late, and when it was dark, he
commanded some hghts and torches to meet My
Lord, and conduct him to his lodgings: he offered
My Lord the keys of the city, and desired him to give
the word that night, and moreover invited him to an
entertainment, which he had made for him of purpose ;
but it being late, My Lord (tyred with his journey)
excused himself as civilly as he could ; the governour
notwithstanding being pleased to send all manner of
provisions to My Lord's lodgings, and charging our
landlord to take no pay for any thing we had : which
extraordinary civilities shewed that he was a right
noble Spaniard.

The next morning early. My Lord went on his
journey, and was very civilly used in every place of
His Majesty of Spain's dominions, where he arrived:
At last coming to Antwerp, he took water to Rotter-
dam (which town he chose for his residing place,
during the time of his stay in Holland) and sent thither
to a friend of his, a gentleman of quality, to provide
him some lodgings ; which he did, and procured them
at the house of one Mrs. Beynham, widow to an
English merchant, who had always been very loyal
to His Majesty the King of England, and serviceable
to His Majesties faithful subjects in whatsoever lay
in his power.

My Lord being come to Rotterdam, was informed

68 The Duchess of Newcastle

that His Highness the Prince (now our gracious King)
was gone to sea: Wherefore he resolved to follow
him, and for that purpose hired a boat, and victualed
it ; but since nobody knew whither His Highness was
gone, and I being unwilling that My Lord should
venture upon so uncertain a voyage, and (as the
proverb is) Seek a needle in a bottle of hay, he desisted
from that design : the Lord Widdrington nevertheless,
and Sir Will. Throckmorton, being resolved to find
out the Prince, but having by a storm been driven
towards the coast of Scotland, and endangered their
lives, they returned without obtaining their aim.

After some little time. My Lord having notice that
the Prince was arrived at the Hague, he went to
wait on His Highness (which he also did afterwards
at several times, so long as His Highness continued
there) expecting some opportunity where he might
be able to show his readiness to serve his king and
countrey, as certainly there was no little hopes for it ;
for first, it was believed that the EngHsh fleet would
come and render it self into the obedience of the
Prince ; next, it was reported that the Duke of Hamil-
ton was going out of Scotland with a great army, into
England, to the assistance of His Majesty, and that
His Majesty had then some party at Colchester; but
it pleased God that none of these proved effectual.
For the fleet did not come in ; the Duke of Hamilton's
army was destroyed, and Colchester was taken by
the enemy, where my dear brother Sir Charles Lucas,
and his dear friend Sir George Lile, were most in-
humanly murthered and shot to death, they being
both valiant and heroick persons, good soldiers, and
most loyal subjects to His Majesty; the one an
excellent commander of horse, the other of foot.

My Lord having now lived in Rotterdam almost

Life of the Duke 69

six months, at a great charge, keeping an open and
noble table for all comers, and being pleased especially
to entertain such as were excellent soldiers, and noted
commanders of war, whose kindness he took as a great
obligation, still hoping that some occasion would
happen to invite those worthy persons into England
to serve His Majesty; but seeing no probability of
either returning into England, or doing His Majesty
any service in that kind, he resolved to retire to some
place where he might live privately ; and having
chosen the city of Antwerp for that purpose, went to
the Hague to take his leave of His Highness the
Prince, our now gracious soveraign. My Lord had
then but a small stock of money left ; for though the
then Marquess of Hereford (after Duke of Somerset,
and his cousin-german, once removed, the now Earl
of Devonshire had lent him 2000Z. between them;
yet all that was spent, and above lOOoZ. more, which
My Lord borrowed during the time he lived in Rotter-
dam, his expence being the more, by reason (as I
mentioned) he lived freely and nobly.

However My Lord, notwithstanding that little
provision of money he had, set forth from Rotterdam
to Antwerp, where for some time he lay in a publick
inne, until one of his friends that had a great love and
respect for My Lord, Mr. Endymion Porter, who was
groom of the bed-chamber to His Majesty King
Charles the First (a place not onely honourable, but
very profitable) being not willing that a person of
such quality as My Lord should lie in a publick house,
proffered him lodgings at the house where he was,
and would not let My Lord be at quiet, until he had
accepted of them.

My Lord after he had stayed sonje while there,
endeavouring to find out a house for himself which

70 The Duchess of Newcastle

might fit him and his small family (for at that time
he had put off most of his train) and also be for his
own content, lighted on one that belonged to the
widow of a famous picture-drawer. Van Ruben,
which he took.

About this time My Lord was much necessitated
for money, which forced him to try several ways for
to obtain so much as would relieve his present wants.
At last Mr. Alesbur3^ the onely son to Sir Th. Ales-
bury, Knight and Baronet, and brother to the now
Countess of Clarendon, a very worthy gentleman,
and great friend to My Lord, having some moneys
that belonged to the now Duke of Buckingham, and
seeing My Lord in so great distress, did him the favour
to lend him 200/. (which money My Lord since his
return hath honestly and justly repai'd). This relief
came so seasonably, that it got My Lord credit in
the city of Antwerp, whereas otherwise he would
have lost himself to his great disadvantage; for My
Lord having hired the house aforementioned, and
wanting furniture for it, was credited by the citizens
for as many goods as he was pleased to have, as also
for meat and drink, and all kind of necessaries and
provisions, which certainly was a special blessing of
God, he being not onely a stranger in that nation, but
to all appearance, a ruined man.

After My Lord had been in Antwerp sometime,
where he lived as retiredly as it was possible for him
to do, he gained much love and respect of all that
knew or had any business with him : at the beginning
of our coming thither, we found but few English
(except those that were merchants) but afterwards
their number increased much, especially of persons
of quahty; and whereas at first there were no more
but four coaches that went the tour, viz. the governor's

Life of the Duke 71

of the castle, My Lord's, and two more, they amounted
to the number of above a hundred, before we went
from thence ; for all those that had sufficient means,
and could go to the price, kept coaches, and went
the tour for their own pleasure. And certainly I
cannot in duty and conscience but give this pubHck
testimony to that place. That whereas I have ob-
served, that most commonly such towns or cities
where the prince of that country doth not reside
himself, or where there is no great resort of the chief
nobility and gentry, are but little ci vihsed ; certainly,
the inhabitants of the said city of Antwerp are the
ci vilest, and best behaved people that ever I saw;
so that My Lord hved there with as much content as
a man of his condition could do, and his chief pastime
and divertisement consisted in the mannage of the
two afore-mentioned horses; which he had not
enjoyed long, but the Barbary-horse, for which he
paid 200 pistols in Paris, died, and soon after the
horse which he had from the Lord Crofts ; and though
he wanted present means to repair these his losses,
yet he endeavoured and obtained so much credit at
last that he was able to buy two others, and by
degrees so many as amounted in all to the number
of 8. In which he took so much delight and pleasure,
that though he was then in distress for money, yet
he would sooner have tried all other ways, then
parted with any of them; for I have heard him
say, that good horses are so rare, as not to be valued
for money, and that he who would buy him out of
his pleasure (meaning his horses), must pay dear
for it. For instance I shall mention some passages
which happened when My Lord was in Antwerp.

First; a stranger coming thither, and seeing My
Lord's horses, had a great mind to buy one of them,

72 The Duchess of Newcastle

which My Lord loved above the rest, and called him
his favourite, a fine Spanish horse; intreating My
Lord's escuyer to acquaint him with his desire, and
ask the price of the said horse: My Lord, when he
heard of it, commanded his servant, that if the
chapman returned he should be brought before him;
which being done accordingly, My Lord asked him,
whether he was resolved to buy his Spanish horse?
Yes, answered he. My Lord, and Pie give your
Lordship a good price for him. I make no doubt of
it, replied My Lord, or else you shall not have him:
But you must know, said he, that the price of that
horse is looo/. to day, to morrow it will be 2000/.,
next day 3000/. and so forth. By which the chapman
perceiving that My Lord was unwilHng to part with
the said horse for any money, took his leave, and so
went his ways.

The next was, that the Duke de Guise, who was
also a great lover of good horses, hearing much com-
mendation of a gray leaping horse, which My Lord
then had, told the gentleman that praised and com-
mended him, that if My Lord was willing to sell the
said horse, he would give 600 pistols for him. The
gentleman knowing My Lord's humour, answered
again, that he was confident. My Lord would never
part with him for any mony, and to that purpose
sent a letter to My Lord from Paris; but My Lord
was so far from selling that horse, that he was dis-
pleased to hear that any price should be offered for
him : so great a love hath My Lord for good horses !
And certainly I ha^e observed, and do verily beheve,
that some of them had also a particular love to My
Lord; for they seemed to rejoice whensoever he came
into the stables, by their tramphng action, and the
noise they made ; nay, they would go much better in

Life of the Duke 73

the mannage, when My Lord was by, then when he
was absent; and when he rid them himself, they
seemed to take much pleasure and pride in it. But of
all sorts of horses, My Lord loved Spanish horses and
barbes best; saying, that Spanish horses were hke
princes, and barbes like gentlemen, in their kind.
And this was the chief recreation and pastime My
Lord had in Antwerp.

I will now return to my former discourse, and the
relation of some important affairs and actions which
happened about this time: His Majesty (our now
gracious King, Charles the Second) some time after
he was gone out of Holland, and returned into France,
took his journey from thence to Breda (if I remember
well) to treat there with his subjects of Scotland, who
had then made some offers of agreement : My Lord,
according to his duty, went thither to wait on His
Majesty, and was there in council with His Majesty,
His Highness the then Prince of Orange, His Majesties
brother-in-law, and some other privy-counsellors;
in which, after several debates concerning that
important affair. His Highness the Prince of Orange,
and My Lord, agreed in one opinion, viz. that they
could perceive no other and better way at that present
for His Majesty but to make an agreement with his
subjects of Scotland, upon any condition, and to go
into Scotland in person himself, that he might but
be sure of an army, there being no probabiHty or
appearance then of getting an army any where else.
Which counsel, either out of the then alledged reasons,
or some others best known to His Majesty, was
embraced; His Majesty agreeing with the Scots so
far (notwithstanding they were so unreasonable in
their treaty, that His Majesty had hardly patience to
hear them) that he resolved to go into Scotland in

C2

74 The Duchess of Newcastle

person; and though My Lord had an earnest desire
to wait on His Majesty thither, yet the Scots would
not suffer him to come, or be in any part of that
kingdom : wherefore out of his loyalty and duty, he
gave His Majesty the best advice he could, viz. that
he conceived it most safe for His Majesty to adhere
to the Earl of Argyle's party, which he supposed to be
the strongest ; but especially, to reconcile Hamilton's
and Argyle's party, and compose the differences
between them; for then His Majesty would be sure
of two parties, whereas otherwise he would leave an
enemy behind him, which might cause his overthrow,
and endanger His Majesties person; and if His
Majesty could but get the power into his own hands,
he might do hereafter what he pleased.

His Majesty being arrived in Scotland, ordered
his affairs so wisely, that soon after he got an army to
march with him into England ; but whether they were
all loyal, is not for me to dispute: however, Argyle
was discontented, as it appeared by two complaining
letters he sent to My Lord, which My Lord gave His
Majesty notice of ; so that onely the Duke of Hamilton
went with His Majesty, who fought and died like a
valiant man, and a loyal subject. In this fight
between the Enghsh and Scots, His Majesty expressed
an extraordinary courage ; and though his army was
in a manner destroyed, yet the glory of an heroick
prince remained with our gracious soveraign.

In the mean time, whilest His Majesty was yet in
Scotland, and before he marched with his army into
England, it happened that the elector of Brandenburg,
and Duke of Newburg, upon some differences, having
raised forces against each other, but afterwards
concluded a peace between them, were pleased to
profer those forces to My Lord for His Majesties use

Life of the Duke 75

and service, which (as the Lord Chancellour, who was
then in France, sent word to My Lord) was the onely
foreign profer that had been made to His Majesty.
My Lord immediately gave His Majesty notice of
it ; but whether it was for want of convenient trans-
portation, or mony, or that the Scots did not hke the
assistance, that profer was not accepted.

Concerning the affairs and intrigues that passed
in Scotland and England, during the time of His
Majesties stay there, I am ignorant of them; neither
doth it belong to me now to write, or give an account
of any thing else but what concerns the history of
my noble Lord and husband's Hfe, and his own
actions ; who so soon as he had intelligence that the
Scottish army, which went with His Majesty into
England, was defeated, and that no body knew what
was become of His Majesty, fell into so violent a
passion that I verily believed it would have en-
dangered his hfe; but when afterwards the happy
news came of His Majesties safe arrival in France,
never any subject could rejoice more then My Lord did.

About this time it chanced, that My Lord's brother
Sir Charles Cavendish, and my self, took a journey
into England, occasioned both by My Lord's extream
want and necessity, and his brother's estate; which
having been under sequestration from the time (or
soon after) he went out of England, was then, in
case he did not return and compound for it, to be
sold outright; Sir Charles was unwilHng to receive
his estate upon such conditions, and would rather
have lost it, then compounded for it: but My Lord
considering it was better to recover something, then
lose all, intreated the Lord Chancellour, who was then
in Antwerp, to perswade his brother to a composition,
which his Lordship did very effectually, and proved

76 The Duchess of Newcastle

himself a noble and true friend in it. We had so small
a provision of money when we set forth our journey
for England, that it was hardly able to carry us to
London, but were forced to stay at Southwark; where
Sir Charles sent into London for one that had formerly
been his steward; and having declared to him his
wants and necessities, desired him to try his credit.
He seemed ready to do his master what service he
could in that kind; but pretending withall, that his
credit was but small, Sir Charles gave him his watch
to pawn, and with that money paid those small
scores we had made in our lodging there. From thence
we went to some other lodgings that were prepared
for us in Co vent Garden; and having rested our
selves some time, I desired my brother the Lord
Lucas, to claim, in my behalf, some subsistance for
my self out of My Lord's estate, (for it was declared
by the Parhament, that the lands of those that were
banished, should be sold to any that would buy them,
onely their wives and children were allowed to put in
their claims:) But he received this answer, that I
could not expect the least allowance, by reason my
Lord and husband had been the greatest traitor of
England (that is to say, the honestest man, because
he had been most against them).

Then Sir Charles intrusted some persons to com-
pound for his estate ; but it being a good while before
they agreed in their composition, and then before the
rents could be received, we having in the mean time
nothing to Hve on, must of necessity have been
starved, had not Sir Charles got some credit of several
persons, and that not without great difficulty; for
all those that had estates, were afraid to come near
him, much less to assist him, until he was sure of his
own estate. So much is misery and poverty shunned !

Life of the Duke 77

But though our condition was hard, yet my dear
Lord and husband, whom we left in Antwerp, was
then in a far greater distress then our selves; for at
our departure he had nothing but what his credit was
able to procure him ; and having run upon the score
so long without paying any the least part thereof,
his creditors began to grow impatient, and resolved
to trust him no longer : Wherefore he sent me word,
that if his brother did not presently reheve him, he
was forced to starve. Which doleful news caused great
sadness and melancholy in us both, and withal made
his brother try his utmost endeavour to procure what
moneys he could for his subsistance, who at last got
200/. sterl. upon credit, which he immediately made
over to My Lord.

But in the mean time, before the said money could
come to his hands, My Lord had been forced to send
for all his creditors, and declare to them his great
wants and necessities; where his speech was so
effectual, and made such an impression in them, that
they had all a deep sense of My Lord's misfortunes;
and instead of urging the payment of his debts,
promised him, that he should not want any thing in
whatsoever they were able to assist him ; which they
also very nobly and civilly performed, furnishing
him with all manner of provisions and necessaries
for his further subsistance ; so that My Lord was then
in a much better condition amongst strangers, then
we in our native countrey.

At last when Sir Charles Cavendish had com-
pounded for his estate, and agreed to pay 4500/. for
it, the parhament caused it again to be surveyed, and
made him pay 500Z. more, which was more then many
others had paid for much greater estates; so that
Sir Charles to pay this composition, and discharge

78 The Duchess of Newcastle

some debts, was necessitated to sell some land of his
at an under-rate. My Lord's two sons (who were also
in England at that time) were no less in want and
necessity, then we, having nothing but bare credit
to Hve on ; and My Lord's estate being then to be sold
outright. Sir Charles, his brother, endeavoured, if
possible, to save the two chief houses, viz. Welbeck
and Bolsover, being resolved rather to part with some
more of his land, which he had lately compounded for,
then to let them fall into the enemies hands; but
before such time as he could compass the money,
some body had bought Bolsover, with an intention
to pull it down, and make money of the materials;
of whom Sir Charles was forced to buy it again at a
far greater rate then he might have had it at first,
notwithstanding a great part of it was pulled down
already; and though My Lord's eldest son Charles
Lord Mansfield, had those mentioned houses some
time in possession, after the death of his uncle;
yet for want of means he was not able to repair

them.

I having now been in England a year and a half,
some intelligence which I received of My Lord's being
not very well, and the small hopes I had of getting
some rehef out of his estate, put me upon design of
returning to Antwerp to My Lord; and Sir Charles,
his brother, took the same resolution, but was
prevented by an ague that seized upon him. Not long
had I been with My Lord, but we received the sad
news of his brother's death, which was an extream
affliction both to My Lord, and my self, for they loved
each other entirely : In truth, he was a person of so
great worth, such extraordinary civihty, so obliging a
nature, so full of generosity, justice and charity,
besides all manner of learning, especially in the

Life of the Duke 79

mathematicks, that not onely his friends, but even
his enemies, did much lament his loss.

After my return out of England, to My Lord, the
creditors supposing I had brought great store of
money along with me, came all to My Lord to sohcite
the pa5nnent of their debts ; but when My Lord had
informed them of the truth of the business, and
desired their patience somewhat longer, with assur-
ance that so soon as he received any money, he would
honestly and justly satisfie them, they were not onely
willing to forbear the payment of those debts he had
contracted hitherto, but to credit him for the future,
and supply him with such necessaries as he should
desire of them. And this was the onely happiness
which My Lord had in his distressed condition, and
the chief blessing of the eternal and merciful God, in
whose Power are all things, who ruled the hearts
and minds of men, and filled them with charity and
compassion; for certainly it was a work of divine
providence, that they shewed so much love, respect
and honour to My Lord, a stranger to their nation;
and notwithstanding his ruined condition, and the
small appearance of recovering his own, credited him
wheresoever he lived, both in France, Holland,
Brabant and Germany; that although My Lord was
banished his native countrey, and dispossessed from
his own estate, could nevertheless live in so much
splendor and grandure as he did.

In this condition (and how little soever the appear-
ance was) My Lord was never without hopes of seeing
yet (before his death) a happy issue of all his mis-
fortunes and sufferings, especially of the restauration
of his most gracious king and master, to his throne
and kingly rights, whereof he always had assured
hopes, well knowing, that it was impossible for the

8o The Duchess of Newcastle

kingdom to subsist long under so many changes of
government ; and whensoever I expressed how httle
faith I had in it, he would gently reprove me, saying,
I believed least, what I desired most ; and could never
be happy if I endeavoured to exclude all hopes and
entertained nothing but doubts and fears.

The city of Antwerp in which we lived, being a
place of great resort for strangers and travellers, His
Majesty (our now gracious King, Charles the Second)
passed thorough it, when he went his journey towards
Germany; and after My Lord had done his humble
duty, and waited on His Majesty, he was pleased
to honour him with his presence at his house. The
same did almost all strangers that were persons of
quality; if they made any stay in the town, they
would come and visit My Lord, and see the mannage
of his horses: and, amongst the rest, the Duke of
Oldenburg, and the Prince of East Friesland, did My
Lord the honour, and presented him with horses of
their own breed.

One time it happened, that His Highness Dom
John d'Austria (who was then governour of those
provinces) came to Antwerp, and stayed there some
few days; and then almost all his Court waited on
My Lord, so that one day I reckoned about seventeen
coaches, in which were all persons of quality, who
came in the morning of purpose to see My Lord's
mannage; My Lord receiving so great an honour
thought it fit to shew his respect and civility to them,
and to ride some of his horses himself, which otherwise
he never did but for his own exercise and delight.
Amongst the rest of those great and noble persons,
there were two of our nation, viz. the then Marquess,
now Duke of Ormond, and the Earl of Bristol; but
Dom^John was not there in person, excusing himself

Life of the Duke 8 1

afterwards to My Lord (when My Lord waited on
him) that the multiphcity of his weighty affairs had
hindered his coming thither, which My Lord accounted
as a very high honour and favour from so great a
prince; and conceiving it his duty to wait on His
Highness, but being unknown to him, the Earl of
Bristol, who had acquaintance with him, did My Lord
the favour, and upon his request, presented him to
His Highness ; which favour of the said Earl My Lord
highly resented.

Dom John received My Lord with all kindness and
respect; for although there were many great and
noble persons that waited on him in an out room, yet
so soon as His Highness heard of My Lord's, and the
Earl of Bristol's being there, he was pleased to admit
them before all the rest. My Lord, after he had passed
his complements, told his Highness, that he found
himself bound in all duty to make his humble acknow-
ledgments for the favour he received from His
Catholick Majesty for permitting and suffering him
(a banished man) to live in his dominions, and under
the government of His Highness; whereupon Dom
John asked My Lord whether he wanted any thing,
and whether he lived peaceably without any molesta-
tion or disturbance? My Lord answered, That he
lived as much to his own content as a banished man
could do; and received more respect and civihty
from that city then he could have expected, for which
he returned his most hmnble thanks to His CathoHck
Majesty, and His Highness. After some short dis-
course. My Lord took his leave of Dom John ; several
of the Spaniards advising him to go into Spain, and
assuring him of His CathoHck Majesties kindness and
favour; but My Lord being engaged in the city of
Antwerp, and besides in years, and wanting means

Sz The Duchess of Newcastle

for so long and chargeable a voyage, was not able to
embrace their motions; and surely he was so well
pleased with the great civilities he received from that
city, that then he was resolved to chuse no other
residing place all the time of his banishment but that ;
he being not onely credited there for all manner of
provisions and necessaries for his subsistance, but
also free both from ordinary and extraordinary taxes,
and from paying excise, which was a great favour and
obligation to My Lord.

After His Highness Dom John had left the govern-
ment of those provinces the Marquess of Caracena
succeeded in his place, who having a great desire to
see My Lord ride in the Mannage, entreated a gentle-
man of the city, that was acquainted with My Lord,
to beg that favour of him. My Lord having not been
at that exercise six weeks, or two months, by reason
of some sickness that made him unfit for it, civilly
begged his excuse; but he was so much importuned
by the said gentleman that at last he granted his
request, and rid one or two horses in presence of the
said Marquess of Caracena, and the then Marquess,
now Duke of Ormond, who often used to honour My
Lord with his company. The said Marquess of Cara-
cena seemed to take much pleasure and satisfaction
in it, and highly complemented My Lord; and cer-
tainly I have observed, that noble and meritorious
persons take great delight in honouring each other.

But not onely strangers, but His Majesty himself
(our now gracious soveraign) was pleased to see My
Lord ride, and one time did ride himself, he being
an excellent master of that art, and instructed by
My Lord, who had the honour to set him first on a
horse of mannage, when he was his governour; where
His Majesties capacity was such, that being but ten

Life of the Duke 83

years of age, he would ride leaping horses, and such
as would overthrow others, and mannage them with
the greatest skill and dexterity, to the admiration
of all that beheld him.

Nor was this the onely honour My Lord received
from His Majesty, but His Majesty and all the royal
race; that is to say, Her Highness the then Princess
Royal, His Highness the Duke of York, with his
brother the Duke of Glocester, (except the Princesse
Henrietta, now Duchess of Orleans,) being met one
time in Antwerp, were pleased to honour My Lord
with their presence, and accept of a small entertain-
ment at his house, such as his present condition was
able to afford them. And some other time His Majesty
passing through the city was pleased to accept of a
private dinner at My Lord's house; after which I
receiving that gracious favour from His Majesty, that
he was pleased to see me, he did merrily and in jest,
tell me. That he perceived My Lord's credit could
procure better meat then his own. Again, some other
time, upon a merry challenge plajdng a game at
butts with My Lord (when My Lord had the better
of him), What (said he) My Lord, have you invited
me to play the rook with me ? Although their stakes
were not at all considerable, but onely for pastime.

These passages I mention onely to declare My
Lord's happiness in his miseries, which he received by
the honour and kindness not onely of foreign princes,
but of his own master and gracious soveraign : I will
not speak now of the good esteem and repute he had
by his late Majesty King Charles the First, and Her
Majesty the now Queen-Mother, who always held and
found him a very loyal and faithful subject, although
fortune was pleased to oppose him in the height of
his endeavours; for his onely and chief intention

84 The Duchess of Newcastle

was to hinder His Majesties enemies from executing
that cruel design which they had upon their gracious
and merciful King; in which he tried his uttermost
power, in so much that I have heard him say out of a
passionate zeal and loyalty, that he would willingly
sacrifice himself and all his posterity, for the sake of
His Majesty and the royal race. Nor did he ever repine
either at his losses or sufferings, but rejoyced rather
that he was able to suffer for his king and countrey.
His army was the onely army that was able to uphold
His Majesties power; which so long as it was victori-
ous it preserved both His Majesties person and crown;
but so soon as it fell, that fell too : and My Lord was
then in a manner forced to seek his own preservation
in foreign countries, where God was pleased to make
strangers his friends, who received and protected him
when he was banished his native country, and relieved
him when his own country-men sought to starve him
by withholding from him what was justly his own,
onely for his honesty and loyalty; which rehef he
received more from the commons of those parts where
he lived, then from princes, he being unwiUing to
trouble any foreign prince with his wants and miseries,
well knowing, that gifts of great princes come slowly,
and not without much difficulty ; neither loves he to
petition any one but his own soveraign.

But though My Lord by the civility of strangers,
and the assistance of some few friends of his native
country, hved in an indifferent condition, yet (as it
hath been declared heretofore) he was put to great
plunges and difficulties, in so much that his dear
brother Sir Charles Cavendish would often say, that
though he could not truly complain of want, yet his
meat never did him good by reason My Lord, his
brother, was always so near wanting, that he was

Life of the Duke 85

never sure after one meal to have another: and
though I was not afraid of starving or begging, yet
my chief fear was, that My Lord for his debts would
suffer imprisonment, where sadness of mind, and
want of exercise, and air, would have wrought his
destruction, which yet by the mercy of God he happily
avoided.

Some time before the restauration of His Majesty
to his royal throne, My Lord, partly with the
remainder of his brother's estate, which was but little,
it being wasted by selling of land for compounding
with the parliament, paying of several debts, and
buying out the two houses aforementioned, viz.
Welbeck and Bolsover ; and the credit which his sons
had got, which amounted in all to ^£2400 a year,
sprinkled something amongst his creditors, and
borrowed so much of Mr. Top and Mr. Smith (though
without assurance) that he could pay such scores
as were most pressing, contracted from the poorer
sort of tradesmen, and send ready mony to market,
to avoid cozenage (for small scores run up most
unreasonably, especially if no strict accounts be kept,
and the rate be left to the creditor's pleasure) by
which means there was in a short time so much saved,
as it could not have been imagined.

About this time, a report came of a great number
of sectaries, and of several disturbances in England,
which heightened My Lord's former hopes into a firm
belief of a sudden change in that kingdom, and a
happy restauration of His Majesty, which it also
pleased God to send according to his expectation;
for His Majesty was invited by his subjects, who were
not able longer to endure those great confusions and
encumbrances they had sustained hitherto, to take
possession of his hereditary rights, and the power of

86 The Duchess of Newcastle

all his dominions: and being then at the Hague in
Holland, to take shipping in those parts for England,
My Lord went thither to wait on His Majesty, who
used My Lord very graciously ; and his Highness the
Duke of York was pleased to offer him one of those
ships that were ordered to transport His Majesty; for
which he returned his most humble thanks to His
Highness, and begged leave of His Highness that he
might hire a vessel for himself and his company.

In the mean time whilst My Lord was at the
Hague, His Majesty was pleased to tell him, that
General Monk, now Duke of Albemarle, had desired
the place of being master of the horse : to which My
Lord answered, that that gallant person was worthy
of any favour that His Majesty could confer upon
him: and having taken his leave of His Majesty,
and His Highness the Duke of York, went towards
the ship that was to transport him for England, (I
might better call it a boat, then a ship; for those
that were intrusted by My Lord to hire a ship for that
purpose, had hired an old rotten fregat, that was lost
the next voyage after; insomuch, that when some of
the company that had promised to go over with My
Lord saw it, they turned back, and would not en-
danger their lives in it, except the now Lord Widdring-
ton who was resolved not to forsake My Lord) .

My Lord (who was so transported with the joy of
returning into his native countrey, that he regarded
not the vessel) having set sail from Rotterdam, was
so becalmed, that he was six dayes and six nights
upon the water, during which time he pleased himself
with mirth, and passed his time away as well as he
could; provisions he wanted not, having them in
great store and plenty. At last being come so far that
he was able to discern the smoak of London, which

Life of the Duke 87

he had not seen in a long time, he merrily was pleased
to desire one that was near him, to jogg and awake
him out of his dream, for surely, said he, I have been
sixteen years asleep, and am not throughly awake
yet. My Lord lay that night at Greenwich, where his
supper seemed more savoury to him, then any meat
he had hitherto tasted ; and the noise of some scrap-
ing fidlers, he thought the pleasantest harmony that
ever he had heard.

In the mean time My Lord's son, Henry Lord
Mansfield, now Earl of Ogle, was gone to Dover, with
intention to wait on His Majesty, and receive My
Lord his father, with all joy and duty, thinking he
had been with His Majesty; but when he missed of
his design, he was very much troubled, and more,
when His Majesty was pleased to tell him, that My
Lord had set to sea, before His Majesty himself was
gone out of Holland, fearing My Lord had met with
some misfortune in his journey, because he had not
heard of his landing. Wherefore he immediately
parted from Dover, to seek My Lord, whom at last he
found at Greenwich; with what joy they embraced
and saluted each other, my pen is too weak to express.

But all this while, and after My Lord was gone from
Antwerp, I was left alone there with some of my
servants; for My Lord being in Holland with His
Majesty, declared in a letter to me his intention of
going for England, withal commanding me to stay
in that city, as a pawn for his debts, until he could
compass money to discharge them; and to excuse
him to the magistrates of the said city for not taking
his leave of them, and paying his due thanks for their
great civilities, which he desired me to do in his
behalf. And certainly My Lord's affection to me was
such, that it made him very industrious in providing

88 The Duchess of Newcastle

those means ; for it being uncertain what or whether
he should have any thing of his estate, made it a
difficult business for him to borrow mony ; at last he
received some of one Mr. Ash, now Sir Joseph Ash,
a merchant of Antwerp, which he returned to me;
but what with the expence I had made in the mean
while, and what was required for my transporting
into England, besides the debts formerly contracted,
the said money fell too short by 400/. and although
I could have upon my own word taken up much
more, yet I was unwilling to leave an engagement
amongst strangers: wherefore I sent for one Mr.
Shaw, now Sir John Shaw, a near kindsman to the
said Mr. Ash, intreating him to lend me 400/. which he
did most readily, and so discharged my debts.

My departure being now divulged in Antwerp, the
magistrates of the city came to take their leaves of
me, where I desired one Mr. Duart a very worthy
gentleman, and one of the chief of the city, though
he derives his race from the Portuguez (to whom and
his sisters, all very skilful in the art of musick, though
for their own pastime and recreation, both My Lord
and my self were much bound for their great civilities)
to be my interpreter. They were pleased to express
that they were sorry for our departure out of their
city, but withal rejoyced at our happy returning into
our native country, and wished me soon and well
to the place where I most desired to be : whereupon
I having excused My Lord's hasty going away without
taking his leave of them, returned them mine and
My Lord's hearty thanks for their great civilities,
declaring how sorry I was that it lay not in my power
to make an acknowledgment answerable to them.
But after their departure from me, they were pleased
to send their under officers (as the custom there is)

Life of the Duke 89

with a present of wine, which I received with all
respect and thankfulness.

I being thus prepared for my voyage, went with
my servants to Flussing, and finding no English man
of war there, being loth to trust my self with a less
vessel, was at last informed that a Dutch man of
war lay there ready to convoy some merchants; I
forthwith sent for the captain thereof, whose name
was Bankert, and asked him whether it was possible
to obtain the favour of having the use of his ship to
transport me into England? To which he answered,
that he questioned not but I might ; for the merchants
which he was to convey were not ready yet, desiring
me to send one of my servants to the state, to request
that favour of them ; with whom he would go himself,
and assist him the best he could; which he also did.
My suit being granted, my self and my chief servants
embarqued in the said ship; the rest, together with
the goods, being conveyed in another good strong
vessel, hired for that purpose.

After I was safely arrived at London, I found My
Lord in lodgings; I cannot call them unhandsome;
but yet they were not fit for a person of his rank and
quality, nor of the capacity to contain all his family :
neither did I find My Lord's condition such as I
expected: wherefore out of some passion I desired
him to leave the town, and retire into the countrey;
but My Lord gently reproved me for my rashness and
impatience, and soon after removed into Dorset-
house ; which, though it was better then the former,
yet not altogether to my satisfaction, we having but a
part of the said house in possession. By this removal
I judged My Lord would not hastily depart from
London ; but not long after, he was pleased to tell me,
that he had dispatched his business^ and was now

go The Duchess of Newcastle

resolved to remove into the country, having already
given order for waggons to transport our goods, which
was no unpleasant news to me, who had a great desire
for a countrey-life.

My Lord before he began his journey, went to his
gracious soveraign, and begged leave that he might
retire into the countrey, to reduce and settle, if
possible, his confused, entangled, and almost ruined
estate, Sir, said he to His Majesty, / am not ignorant,
that many believe I am discontented ; and His probable
tliey'l say, I retire through discontent : But I take God
to wit7iess, that I am in no kind or ways displeased;
for I am so joyed at your Majesties happy restauration,
that I cannot be sad or troubled for any concern to my own
particular ; but whatsoever your Majesty is pleased to
command me, were it to sacrifice my life, I shall most
obediently perform it ; for I have no other will, but your
Majesties pleasure.

Thus he kissed His Majesty's hand, and went the
next day into Nottinghamshire, to his mannor-house
called Welbeck ; but when he came there, and began
to examine his estate, and how it had been ordered
in the time of his banishment, he knew not whether
he had left an3rthing of it for himself, or not, till by
his prudence and wisdom he informed himself the
best he could, examining those that had most know-
ledg(e) therein. Some lands, he found, could be re-
covered no further then for his life, and some not at
all: some had been in the rebels hands, which he
could not recover, but by His Highness the Duke of
York's favour, to whom His Majesty had given all the
estates of those that were condemned and executed
for murdering his royal father of blessed memory,
which by the law were forfeited to His Majesty;
whereof His Highness graciously restored My Lord

Life of the Duke 9 1

so much of the land that formerly had been his, as
amounted to 730/. a year. And though My Lord's
children had their claims granted, and bought out
the hfe of My Lord, their father, which came near
upon the third part, yet My Lord received nothing
for himself out of his own estate, for the space of
eighteen years, viz. during the time from the first
entering into warr, which was June 11. 1642, till his
return out of banishment. May 28. 1660; for though
his son Henry, now Earl of Ogle, and his eldest
daughter, the now Lady Cheiny, did all what lay in
their power to relieve My Lord their father, and sent
him some supplies of moneys at several times when
he was in banishment; yet that was of their own,
rather then out of My Lord's estate; for the Lady
Cheiny sold some few jewels which My Lord, her
father, had left her, and some chamber-plate which
she had from her grandmother, and sent over the
money to My Lord, besides 1000/. of her portion:
and the now Earl of Ogle did at several times supply
My Lord, his father, with such moneys as he had
partly obtained upon credit, and partly made by his
marriage.

After My Lord had begun to view those mines that
were nearest, and tried the law to keep or recover
what formerly was his, (which certainly shewed no
favour to him, besides that the act of oblivion proved
a great hindrance and obstruction to those his
designs, as it did no less to all the royal party) and
had setled so much of his estate as possibly he could,
he cast up the summ of his debts, and set out several
parts of land for the payment of them, or of some
of them (for some of his lands could not be easily
sold, being entailed) and some he sold in Derbyshire
to buy the Castle of Nottingham, which although it

92 The Duchess of Newcastle

is quite ruined and demolisht, yet, it being a seat
which had pleased his father very much, he would
not leave it since it was offered to be sold.

His two houses Welbeck and Bolsover he found
much out of repair, and this later half pulled down, no
furniture or any necessary goods were left in them,
but some few hangings and pictures, which had been
saved by the care and industry of his eldest daughter
the Lady Cheiny, and were bought over again after
the death of his eldest son Charles, Lord Mansfield;
for they being given to him, and he leaving some debts
to be paid after his death, My Lord sent to his other
son Henry, now Earl of Ogle, to endeavour for so much
credit, that the said hangings and pictures (which
My Lord esteemed very much, the pictures being
drawn by Van Dyke) might be saved; which he
also did, and My Lord hath paid the debt since his
return.

Of eight Parks, which My Lord had before the wars,
there was but one left that was not quite destroyed,
viz. Welbeck Park of about four miles compass; for
My Lord's brother Sir Charles Cavendish, who bought
out the life of My Lord in that Lordship, saved most
part of it from being cut down; and in Blore Park
there were some few deer left : the rest of the parks
were totally defaced and destroyed, both wood,
pales and deer ; amongst which was also Clipston Park
of seven miles compass, wherein My Lord had taken
much delight formerly, it being rich of wood, and
containing the greatest and tallest timber trees of all
the woods he had ; in so much, that onely the Pale-
row was valued at 2000^ It was watered by a
pleasant river that runs through it, full of fish and
otters ; was well stocked with deer, full of hares, and
had great store of partriges, poots, pheasants, etc..

Life of the Duke 93

besides all sorts of water-fowl; so that this park
afforded all manner of sports, for hunting, hawking,
coursing, fishing, etc., for which My Lord esteemed
it very much : and although his patience and wisdom
is such, that I never perceived him sad or discontented
for his own losses and misfortunes, yet when he
beheld the mines of that park, I observed him
troubled, though he did little express it, onely saying,
he had been in hopes it would not have been so much
defaced as he found it, there being not one timber-
tree in it left for shelter. However he patiently bore
what could not be helped, and gave present order for
the cutting down of some wood that was left him in
a place near adjoining, to repale it, and got from
several friends deer to stock it.

Thus though his law-suits and other unavoidable
expences were very chargeable to him, yet he ordered
his affairs so prudently, that by degrees he stocked
and manured those lands he keeps for his own use, and
in part repaired his mannor-houses, Welbeck and
Bolsover, to which latter he made some additional
building ; and though he has not yet built the seat at
Nottingham, yet he hath stocked and paled a little
park belonging to it.

Nor is it possible for him to repair all the mines of
the estate that is left him, in so short a time, the}^
being so great, and his losses so considerable, that
I cannot without grief and trouble remember them ;
for before the wars My Lord had as great an estate
as any subject in the kingdom, descended upon
him most by women, viz. by his grandmother
of his father's side, his own mother, and his first
wife.

What estate his grandfather left to his father Sir
Charles Cavendish, I know not; nor can I exactly

94 The Duchess of Newcastle

tell what he had from his grandmother, but she was
very rich ; for her third husband Sir Will. Saint Loo,
gave her a good estate in the west, which afterwards
descended upon My Lord, My Lord's mother being
the younger daughter of the Lord Ogle, and sole heir,
after the death of her eldest sister Jane, Countess of
Shrewsbury, whom King Charles the First restored
to her father's dignity, viz. Baroness of Ogle: this
title descended upon My Lord and his heirs general,
together with 3000/. a year in Northumberland ; and
besides the estate left to My Lord, she gave him
20,000/. in money, and kept him and his family at her
own charge for several years.

My Lord's first wife, who was daughter and heir
to Wilham Basset of Blore, Esq; widow to Henry
Howard, younger son to Thomas Earl of Suffolk,
brought My Lord 2400/. a year inheritance, between
six and seven thousand pounds in money, and a
jointure for her Hfe of 800/. a year. Besides My Lord
increased his own estate before the wars, to the value
of 100,000/. and had increased it more, had not the
unhappy wars prevented him; for though he had
some disadvantages in his estate, even before the
wars, yet they are not considerable to those he
suffered afterwards for the service of his king and
country: for example, his father Sir Charles Caven-
dish had lent his brother in law Gilbert Earl of
Shrewsbury 16,000/. for which, although afterward
before his death he setled 2000/. a year upon him;
yet he having injoyed the said money for many years
without paying any use for it, it might have been
improved to My Lord's better advantage, had it
been in his father's own hands, he being a person of
great prudence in managing his estate; and though
the said Earl of Shrewsbury made My Lord his

Life of the Duke 95

executor, yet My Lord was so far from making any
advantage by that trust, even in what the law
allowed him, that he lost 17,000/. by it; and after-
wards delivered up his trust to William Earl of
Pembrook, and Thomas Earl of Arundel, who both
married two daughters of the said Earl of Shrewsbury ;
and since his return into England, upon the desire
of Henry Howard, second son to the late Earl of
Arundel, and heir apparent (by reason of his eldest
brother's distemper) he resigned his trust and interest
to him, which certainly is a very difficult business,
and yet questionable whether it may lawfully be
done, or not? But such was My Lord's love to the
family of the Shrewsburies, that he would rather
wrong himself, then it.

To mention some lawful advantages which My Lord
might have made by the said tnist, it may be noted
in the first place, that the Earl of Shrewsbury's estate
was let in long leases, which, by the law, fell to the
executor. Next, that after some debts and legacies
were paid out of those lands, which were set out for
that purpose, they were setled so, that they fell to
My Lord. Thirdly, seven hundred pounds a year was
left as a gift to My Lord's brother. Sir Charles Caven-
dish, in case the Countess of Kent, second daughter
to the said Earl of Shrewsbury, had no children.
But My Lord never made any advantage for himself,
of all these; neither was he inquisitive whether the
said Countess of Kent cut off the entail of that land,
although she never had a child; for My Lord's nature
is so generous, that he hates to be mercenary, and
never minds his own profit or interest in any trust or
employment, more then the good and benefit of him
that intrusts or employs him.

But, as I said heretofore, these are but petty losses

96 The Duchess of Newcastle

in comparison of those he sustained by the late civil
warrs, whereof I shall partly give you an account : I
say partly: for though it may be computed what
the loss of the annual rents of his lands amounts to,
of which he never received the least worth for himself
and his own profit, during the time both of his being
employed in the service of warr, and his sufferings in
banishment ; as also the loss of those lands that are
alienated from him, both in present possession, and
in reversion; and of his parks and woods that were
cut down; yet it is impossible to render an exact
account of his personal estate.

As for his rents during the time he acted in the
warrs, though he suffered others to gather theirs for
their own use, yet his own either went for the use of
the army, or fell into the hands of the enemy, or were
suppressed and with-held from him by the cozenage
of his tenants and officers. My Lord being then not
able to look after them himself.

About the time when his late Majesty undertook
the expedition into Scotland for the suppressing of
some insurrection that happened there; My Lord,
as afore is mentioned, among the rest, lent His
Majesty 10,000/. sterling; but having newly married
a daughter to the then Lord Brackly, now Earl of
Bridgwater, whose portion was 12,000/. the moiety
whereof was paid in gold on the day of her marriage,
and the rest soon after (although she was too young
to be bedded). This, together with some other
expences, caused him to take up the said 10,000/.
at interest, the use whereof he paid many years
after.

Also when after his sixteen years banishment, he
returned into England, before he knew what estate
was left him, and was able to receive any rents of his

Life of the Duke 97

own, he was necessitated to take 5000^. upon use for
the maintenance of himself and his family; whereof
the now Earl of Devonshire, his cousin german. once
removed, lent him looo/. for which and the former
1000/. mentioned heretofore, he never desired nor
received any use from My Lord, which I mention,
to declare the favour and bounty of that noble lord.

But though it is impossible to render an exact
account of all the losses which My Lord has sustained
by the said wars, yet as far as they are accountable,
I shall endeavour to represent them in these following
particulars :

In the first place, I shall give you a just particular of
My Lord's estate in lands, as it was before the wars,
partly according to the value of his own surveighers,
and partty according to the rate it is let, at this
present.

Next, I shall accompt the woods cut down by the
rebellious party, in several places of My Lord's
estate.

Thirdly, I shall compute the value of those lands
which My Lord hath lost, both in present possession,
and in reversion; that is to say, those which he
has lost altogether, both for himself, and his pos-
terity; and those he has recovered onely during the
time of his life, and which his onely son and heir,
the now Earl of Ogle, must lose after his father's
decease.

Fourthly, I shall make mention, how much of land
My Lord hath been forced to sell for the payment
of some of his debts, contracted during the time
of the late Civil Wars, and when his estate was
sequestered; I say some, for there are a great many
to pay yet.

D

98 The Duchess of Newcastle

To which I shall, fifthly, add the composition
of his brother's estate; and the loss of it for eight
years.

A Particular of My Lord's estate in plain rents, as
it was partly surveighed in the year 1641, and
partly is let at this present.

Nottinghamshire.

The Mannor of Welbeck

The Mannor of Norton, Carbarton, and

the Granges ....
Warksopp ....

The Mannor-house of Soakhohn .
The Manor of Clipston and Edwinstow
Drayton .
Dunham
Sutton

The Mannor of Kirby, etc.
The Mannor of Cotham
The Mannor of Sitthorp
Carcholston
Hauksworth, etc.
Flawborough
Mearing and Holm-Meadow

1. s. d.
600 0 o

454

51

308

334

8

99

185
1075

833

704

450

139
512

471

19 I

6 8

10 3

9 8

16 6

17 8

0 5

7 2

18 8

1 0

3 o

4 2

11 8

6229 7 II

Lincolnshire.

lam Me ales

100 0 0

Life of the Duke

99

Derbyshire

1.

s.

d.

The Barrony of Bolsover and Woodthorp 846

8

II

The Manner of Chesterfield

. 378

0

0

The Mannor of Barlow

• 796

17

6

Tissington.

. 159

II

0

Dronfield ....

. 486

15

10

The Mannor of Brampton

142

4

8

Little-Longston

• 87

2

0

The Mannor of Stoak

212

3

0

Birth-Hall, and Peak-Forrest

. 131

8

0

The Mannor of Gringlow

. 156

8

0

The Mannor of Hucklow

162

10

8

The Mannor of Blackwall .

. 306

0

4

Buxton and Tids-Hall

• 153

2

0

Mansfield- Park

100

0

0

Mappleton and Thorp

207

5

0

The Mannor of Windly-Hill

. 238

18

0

The Mannor of Litchurch and

Mark-

worth

. 713

15

I

Church and Meynel Langly Mann*

or . 850

I

0

6128

II

ID

Staffordshire

» •

The Mannor of Bloar with Caulton
The Mannor of Grindon, Cauldon, with

Waterfull
The Mannor of Cheadle with Kinsly
The Mannor of Barleston, etc.

573 13 4

822 3 o

259 18 o

694 3 o

2349 17 4

loo The Duchess of Newcastle

Glocestershire. , J

1. S. Q.

The Manor of Tormorton with Litleton . 1193 16 o

The Mannor of Acton Turvil . . 388 3 2

1581 19 2

SUMMERSETSHIRE.

The Mannor of Chewstoak . . . 816 15 6
Knighton Sutton .... 300 14 4
Stroud and Kingsham-Park . . 186 4 o

1303 13 10

Yorkshire

The Manors of Shngsby, Hoverngham

and Friton, Northinges and Pomfret . 1700 o o

Northumberland

The Barrony of Bothal, Ogle and Hepple

etc 3,000 o 0

Totall . 22,393 10 I

That this particular of My Lord's estate was no
less then is mentioned, may partly appear by the
rate, as it was surveighed, and sold by the rebellious
parliament; for they raised, towards the latter end
of their power, which was in the year 1652, out of
My Lord's estate, the summe of 111,593^. los. iid.
at five years and a half purchase, which was at above
the rate of 18,000/. a year, besides woods; and his
brother Sir Charles Cavendish's estate, which estate
was 2000/. a year, which falls not much short of the
mentioned account; and certainly, had they not

Life of the Duke loi

sold such lands at easie rates, few would have bought
them, by reason the purchasers were uncertain how
long they should enjoy their purchase: besides,
under-officers do not usually refuse bribes; and it is
well known that the surveighers did under- rate estates
according as they were feed by the purchasers.

Again, many of the estates of banished persons
were given to soldiers for the payment of their arrears,
who again sold them to others which would buy them
at easier rates. But chiefly it appears by the rate
as My Lord's estate is let at present, there being
several of the mentioned lands that are let at a higher
rate now then they were surveighed; nor are they
all valued in the mentioned particular according to
the surveigh, but many of them which were not
surveighed, are accounted according to the rate they
are let at at this present.

The loss of My Lord's estate, in plain rents, as
also upon ordinary use, and use upon use, is as
folio weth :

The annual rent of My Lord's lands, viz.
22,393/. los. id. being lost for the space of 18 years,
which was the time of his acting in the wars, and of
his banishment, without any benefit to him, reckoned
without any interest, amounts to 403,083/. But
being accounted with the ordinary use at six in the
hundred, and use upon use for the mentioned space
of 18 years, it amounts to 733,579/.

But some perhaps will say, that if My Lord had
enjoyed his estate, he would have spent it, at least
so much as to maintain himself according to his
degree and quality.

I answer; that it is very improbable My Lord
should have spent all his estate, if he had enjoyed it,
he being a man of great wisdom and prudence, knowing

I02 The Duchess of Newcastle

well how to spend, and how to manage; for though
he lived nobly before the time of the wars, yet not
beyond the compass of his estate; nay, so far he
would have been from spending his estate, that no
doubt but he would have increast it to a vast value,
as he did before the wars ; where notwithstanding his
hospitality and noble house-keeping, his charges of
building came to about 31,000/.; the portion of his
second daughter, which was 12,000/.; the noble
entertainments he gave King Charles the First, one
whereof came to almost 15,000/., another to above
4000/., and a third to 1700/. as hereafter shall be men-
tioned; and his great expences during the time of
his being Governour to His Majesty that now is, he
yet encreased his estate to the value of 100,000/.
which is 5000 per annum, when it was by so much
less.

But if any one will reckon the charges of his house-
keeping during the time of his exile, and when he had
not the enjoyment of his estate, he may substract
the sum accounted for the payment of his debts,
contracted in the time of his banishment, which went
to the maintenance of himself and his family; or in
lieu thereof, considering that I do not account all My
Lord's losses, but onely those that are certainly
known, he may compare it with the loss of his personal
estate, whereof I shall make some mention anon, and
he'll find that I do not heighten My Lord's losses,
but rather diminish them; for surely the losses of
his personal estate, and those I account not, will
counterballance the charges of his house-keeping, if
not exceed them.

Again, others will say, that there was much land
sold in the time of My Lord's banishment by his sons,
and feoffees in trust.

Life of the Duke 103

I answer, first, that whatsoever was sold, was first
bought of the rebellious power: next, although they
sold some lands, yet My Lord knew nothing of it,
neither did he receive a penny worth for himself,
neither of what they purchased, nor sold, all the
time of his banishment till his return.

And thus much of the loss of My Lord's estate in
rents : concerning the loss of his parks and woods, as
much as is generally known, (for I do not reckon
particular trees cut down in several of his woods yet
standing) 'tis as follows:

1. Qipston-Park and woods cut down to the value
of 20,000/.

2. Kirkby- Woods, for which My Lord was formerly
proferr'd 10,000/.

3. Woods cut down in Derbyshire 8000/.

4. Red-lodge- Wood, Rome-wood and others near
Welbeck 4000/.

5. Woods cut down in Staffordshire 1000/.

6. Woods cut down in Yorkshire 1000/.

7. Woods cut down in Northumberland 1500/.

The Total 45,000/.

The lands which My Lord hath lost in present
possession are 2015/. per annum, which at 20 years
purchase come to 40,300/., and those which he hath
lost in reversion, are 3214/. per annum, which at 16
years' purchase amount to the value of 51,424/.

The lands which My Lord since his return has sold
for the payment of some of his debts, occasioned by
the wars (for I do not reckon those he sold to buy
others) come to the value of 56,000/. to which out of
his yearly revenue he has added 10,000/. more, which
is in all 66,000/.

Lastly, the composition of his brother's estate was

I04 The Duchess of Newcastle

5000/. and the loss of it for eight years comes to
16,000/.

All of which, if summed up together, amounts

to 941,303^.
These are the accountable losses, which my dear
Lord and husband has suffered by the late civil wars,
and his loyalty to his king and country. GDncerning
the loss of his personal estate, since (as I often men-
tioned) it cannot be exactly known; I shall not
endeavour to set down the particulars thereof, onely
in general give you are note of what partly they are :

1. The pulling down of several of his dwelling or
mannor-houses.

2. The disfurnishing of them, of which the furniture
at Bolsover and Welbeck was very noble and rich:
out of his London-house at Clarkenwell, there were
taken, amongst other goods, suits of hnnen, viz.
table-cloths, sideboard-cloths, napkins, etc., whereof
one suit cost 160/. they being bought for an entertain-
ment which My Lord made for their Majesties, King
Charles the First, and the Queen, at Bolsover Castle ;
and of 150 suits of hangings of all sorts in all his
houses, there were not above 10 or 12 saved.

Of silver-plate. My Lord had so much as came to
the value of 3800/. besides several curiosities of
cabinets, cups, and other things, which after My Lord
was gone out of England, were taken out of his
mannor-house, Welbeck, by a garison of the King's
party that lay therein, whereof he recovered onely
iiooZ. which money was sent him beyond the seas,
the rest was lost.

As for pewter, brass, bedding, linnen, and other
houshold-stuff, there was nothing else left but some
few old feather-beds, and those all spoiled, and fit
for no use.

Life of the Duke 1 05

3. My Lord's stock of corn, cattel, etc., was very-
great before the warrs, by reason of the largeness and
capacity of those grounds, and the great number of
granges he kept for his own use; as for example,
Barlow, Carkholston, Gleadthorp, Welbeck, and
several more, which were all well manured and stockt.
But all this stock was lost, besides his race of horses
in his grounds, grange-horses, hackny-horses, man-
nage-horses, coach-horses, and others he kept for
his use.

To these losses I may well and justly join the charges
which My Lord hath been put to since his return into
England, by reason they were caused by the mines
of the said warrs ; whereof I reckon,

1. His law-suits, which have been very chargeable
to him, more than advantagious.

2. The stocking, manuring, paling, stubbing,
hedging, etc., of his grounds and parks; where it is
to be noted, that no advantage or benefit can be
made of grounds, under the space of three years, and
of cattel not under five or six.

3. The repairing and furnishing of some of his
dwelling-houses .

4. The setting up a race or breed of horses, as he
had before the warrs; for which purpose he hath
bought the best mares he could get for money.

In short, I can reckon 12,000/. laid out barely for
the repair of some mines, which My Lord could not
be without, there being many of them to repair yet ;
neither is this all that is laid out, but much more
which I cannot well remember ; nor is there more but
one grange stocked, amongst several that were kept
for furnishing his house with provisions : as for other
charges and losses, which My Lord ^ hath sustained
since his return, I will not reckon them, because my

D2

io6 The Duchess of Newcastle

design is onely to account such losses as were caused
by the wars.

By which, as they have been mentioned, it may
easily be concluded, that although My Lord's estate was
very great before the wars, yet now it is shrunk into
a very narrow compass, that it puts his prudence and
wisdom to the proof, to make it serve his necessities,
he having no other assistance to bear him up; and
yet notwithstanding all this, he hath since his return
paid both for himself and his son, all manner of taxes,
lones, levies, assessments, etc., equally with the rest
of His Majesties subjects, according to that estate
that is left him, which he has been forced to take
upon interest.

THE THIRD BOOK

Thus having given you a faithful account of all My
Lord's actions, both before, in, and after the civil
warrs, and of his losses; I shall now conclude \\ath
some particular heads concerning the description
of his own person, his natural humour, disposition,
qualities, vertues; his pedigree, habit, diet, exercises,
etc., together with some other remarks and particulars
which I thought requisite to be inserted, both to
illustrate the former books, and to render the history
of his life more perfect and compleat.

I. Of his Power

After His Majesty King Charles the First, had
entrusted My Lord with the power of raising forces
for His Majesties service, he effected that which never
any subject did, nor was (in all probability) able to do ;
for though many great and noble persons did also
raise forces for His Majesty, yet they were Brigades,
rather then well-formed armies, in comparison to My
Lord's. The reason was, that My Lord, by his mother,
the daughter of Cuthbert Lord Ogle, being allyed
to most of the most ancient families in Northumber-
land, and other the northern parts, could pretend a
greater interest in them, then a stranger; for they
through a natural affection to My Lord as their own
kinsman, would sooner follow him, and under his
conduct sacrifice their lives for His Majesty's service,
then any body else, well knowing, that by deserting

107

io8 The Duchess of Newcastle

My Lord, they deserted themselves; and by this
means My Lord raised first a Troup of horse consisting
of a hundred and twenty, and a regiment of foot;
and then an army of eight thousand horse, foot and
dragoons, in those parts; and afterwards upon this
ground, at several times, and in several places, so
many several troups, regiments and armies, that in
all from the first to the last, they amounted to above
100,000 men, and those most upon his own interest,
and without any other considerable help or assistance ;
which was much for a particular subject, and in such
a conjuncture of time; for since armies are soonest
raised by covetousness, fear and faction; that is to
say, upon a constant and settled pay, upon the ground
of terrour, and upon the ground of rebelHon; but
very seldom or never upon uncertainty of pay; and
when it is as hazardous to be of such a party, as to
be in the heat of a battel ; also when there is no other
design but honest duty; it may easily be conceived
that My Lord could have no httle love and affection
when he raised his army upon such grounds as
could promise them but Httle advantage at that
time.

Amongst the rest of his army, My Lord had chosen
for his own regiment of foot, 3000 of such valiant,
stout and faithful men (whereof many were bred in
the Moorish-grounds of the northern parts) that they
were ready to die at My Lord's feet, and never gave
over, whensoever they were engaged in action, until
they had either conquered the enemy, or lost their
Hves. They were called White-coats, for this following
reason: My Lord being resolved to give them new
liveries, and there being not red cloth enough to be
had, took up so much of white as would serve to
cloath them, desiring withal, their patience until he

Life of the Duke 109

had got it dyed ; but they impatient of stay, requested
My Lord, that he would be pleased to let them have
it un-dyed as it was, promising they themselves would
die it in the enemies blood: which request My Lord
granted them, and from that time they were called
White-coats.

To give you some instances of their valour and
courage, I must beg leave to repeat some passages
mentioned in the first book. The enemy having closely
besieged the city of York, and made a passage into
the mannor-yard, by springing a mine under the
wall thereof, was got into the mannor-house with a
a great number of their forces; which My Lord
perceiving, he immediately went and drew 80 of the
said White-coats thither, who with the greatest cour-
age went close up to the enemy, and having charged
them, fell pell-mell with the but -ends of their mus-
quets upon them, and with the assistance of the
rest that renewed their courage by their example,
killed and took 1500, and by that means saved the
town.

How valiantly they behaved themselves in the last
fatal battel upon Hessom-moor near York, has been
also declared heretofore; in so much, that although
most of the army were fled, yet they would not stir,
until by the enemies power they were overcome, and
most of them slain in rank and file.

Their love and affection to My Lord was such, that
it lasted even when he was deprived of all his power,
and could do them little good; to which purpose I
shall mention this following passage:

My Lord being in Antwerp, received a visit from a
gentleman, who came out of England, and rendered
My Lord thanks for his safe escape at sea; My Lord
being in amaze, not knowing what the gentleman

1 1 o The Duchess of Newcastle

meant, he was pleased to acquaint him, that in his
coming over sea out of England, he was set upon by
pickaroons, who having examined him, and the rest
of his company, at last some asked him, whether he
knew the Marquess of Newcastle? To whom he
answered, that he knew him very well, and was going
over into the same city where My Lord lived. Where-
upon they did not onely take nothing from him, but
used him with all civility, and desired him to remem-
ber their humble duty to their lord general, for they
were some of his White-coats that had escaped death ;
and if My Lord had any service for them, they were
ready to assist him upon what designs soever, and
to obey him in whatsoever he should be pleased to
command them. !

This I mention for the eternal fame and memory
of those valiant and faithful men. But to return to
the power My Lord had in the late warrs : As he was
the head of his own army, and had raised it most
upon his own interest for the service of His Majesty;
so he was never ordered by His Majesty's privy
council (except that some forces of his were kept
by his late Majesty (which he sent to him) together
with some arms and ammunition heretofore men-
tioned) until His Highness Prince Rupert came
from His Majesty, to join with him at the siege
of York. He had moreover the power of coyning,
printing, knighting, etc., which never any subject
had before, when his soveraign himself was in
the kingdom; as also the command of so many
counties, as is mentioned in the first book, and the
power of placing and displacing what governours and
commanders he pleased, and of constituting what
garisons he thought fit; of the chief whereof I shall
give you this following list.

Life of the Duke 1 1 1

A J Particular of the Principal Garisons, and
THE Governors of them, constituted by my
Lord.

In Northumberland

Newcastle upon Tyne, Sir John Marley, Knight.
Tynmouth Castle and Sheilds, Sir Thomas Riddal,
Knight.

In the Bishoprick of Durham

Hartlepool, Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Lambton.
Raby- Castle, Sir William Savile, Knight and
Baronet.

In Yorkshire

The city of York, Sir Thomas Glenham, Knight
and Baronet ; and afterwards when he took the field,
the Lord Jo. Bellasyse.

Pomfret-Castle, Colonel Mynn, and after him Sir
Jo. Redman.

Sheffield-Castle, Major Beamont.

Wortly-Hall, Sir Francis Wortley.

Tickhill-Castle, Major Mountney.

Doncaster, Sir Francis Fane, Knight of the Bath,
afterwards Governour of Lincoln.

Sandal-Castle, Captain Bonivant.

Skipton-Castle, Sir John Mallary, Baronet.

Bolton-Castle, Mr. Scroope.

Hemsley-Castle, Sir Jordan Crosland.

Scarborough-Castle and town. Sir Hugh Chomley..

Stamford-Bridge, Colonel Galbreth.

Hallifax, Sir Francis Mackworth.

Tadcaster, Sir Gamaliel Dudley.

Eyrmouth, Major Kaughton.

1 1 2 The Duchess of Newcastle

In Cumberland

The city of Carlisle, Sir Philip Musgrave, Knight
and Baronet.

Cockermouth, Colonel Kirby.

In Nottinghamshire

Newark upon Trent, Sir John Henderson, Knight ;
and afterwards, Sir Richard Byron, Knight, now
Lord Byron.

Wyrton-House, Colonel Rowland Hacker.

Welbeck, Colonel van Peire; and after, Colonel
Beeton.

Shelford-House, Col. PhiUp Stanhop.

In Lincolnshire

The city of Lincoln, first Sir Francis Fane, Knight
of the Bath; secondly, Sir Peregrine Bartu.
Gainsborough, Colonel St. George.
Bullingbrook-Castle, Lientenant-Colonel Chester.
Beluoir-Castle, Sir Gervas Lucas.

In Derbyshire

Bolsover-Castle, Colonel Muschamp.
Wingfield Manner, Colonel Roger Molyneux.
Staly-House, the now Lord Fretchwile.

A List of the General Officers of the Army

1. The Lord General, the now Duke of Newcastle,
the noble subject of this book.

2. The Lieutenant-General of the Army; first the
Earl of Newport, afterwards the Lord Eythin.

3. The General of the Ordnance, Charles Viscount
Mansfield.

Life of the Duke 1 1 3

4. The General of the Horse, George Lord Goring.

5. The Colonel General of the Army, Sir Thomas
Glenham.

6. The Major General of the Army, Sir Francis
Mackworth.

7. The Lieutenant-General of the Horse, first Mr.
Charles Cavendish, after him Sir Charles Lucas.

8. Commissary - General of Horse, first Colonel
Windham, after him Sir William Throckmorton, and
after him Mr. George Porter.

9. Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance, Sir William
Davenant.

10. Treasurer of the Army, Sir William Camaby.

11. Advocate-General of the Army, Dr. Liddal.

12. Quarter-Master General of the Army, Mr. Ralph
Errington.

13. Providore-General of the Army, Mr. Gervas
Nevil, and after Mr. Smith.

14. Scout-Master-General of the Army, Mr. Hudson.

15. Waggon-Master-General of the Army, Baptist
Johnson.

William Lord Widdrington was President of the
Council of War, and Commander-in-Chief of the three
counties of Lincoln, Rutland and Nottingham, and
the forces there.

When My Lord marched with his army to New-
castle against the Scots, then the Lord John Bellassis
was constituted Governour of York, and Commander-
in-Chief, or Lieutenant-General of Yorkshire.

As for the rest of the ofi&cers and commanders of
every particular regiment and company, they being
too numerous, cannot well be remembred, and
therefore I shall give you no particular accompt of
them.

1 14 The Duchess of Newcastle

2. Of His Misfortunes and Obstructions

Although Nature had favoured My Lord, and endued
him with the best qualities and perfections she could
inspire into his soul; yet fortune hath ever been such
an inveterate enemy to him, that she invented aU
the spight and malice against him that lay in her
power; and notwithstanding his prudent counsels
and designs, cast such obstructions in his way, that
he seldom proved successful but where he acted in
person. And since I am not ignorant that this unjust
and partial age is apt to suppress the worth of meri-
torious persons, and that many will endeavour to
obscure My Lord's noble actions and fame, by casting
unjust aspersions upon him, and laying (either out of
ignorance or malice) Fortune's envy to his charge, I
have purposed to represent these obstructions which
conspired to render his good intentions and endeav-
ours ineffectual, and at last did work his mine and
destruction, in these following particulars.

1. At the time when the kingdom became so in-
fatuated, as to oppose and pull down their gracious
king and soveraign, the Treasury was exhausted, and
no sufficient means to raise and maintain armies to
reduce His Majesties rebellious subjects; so that
My Lord had little to begin withal but what his own
estate would allow, and his interest procure him.

2. When his late Majesty, in the beginning of the
unhappy wars, sent My Lord to Hull, the strongest
place in the kingdom, where the magazine of arms
and ammunition was kept, and he by his prudence
had gained it to His Majesties service; My Lord was
left to the mercy of the parliament, where he had
surely suffered for it (though he acted not without
His Majesties commission) if some of the contrary

Life of the Duke 1 1 5

party had not quitted him, in hopes to gain him on
their side.

3. After His Majesty had sent My Lord to New-
castle upon Tyne, to take upon him the Government
of that place, and he had raised there, of friends and
tenants, a troup of horse and regiment of foot, which
he ordered to conveigh some arms and ammunition
to His Majesty, sent by the Queen out of Holland;
His Majesty was pleased to keep the same convoy
with him to encrease his own forces, which although
it was but of a small number, yet at that present time
it would have been very serviceable to My Lord, he
having then but begun to raise forces.

4. When Her Majesty the now Queen-Mother,
after her arrival out of Holland to York, had a pur-
pose to conveigh some armes to His Majesty, My Lord
ordered a party of 1500 to conduct the same, which
His Majesty was pleased to keep with him for his own
service.

5. After Her Majesty had taken a resolution to go
from York to Oxford, where the King then was ; My
Lord for her safer conduct quitted 7000 men of his
army, with a convenient train of artillery, which
likewise never returned to My Lord.

6. When the Earl of Montross was going into
Scotland, he went to My Lord at Durham, and desired
of him a supply of some forces for His Majesties ser-
vice ; where My Lord gave him 200 horse and dragoons
even at such a time when he stood most in need of a
supply himself, and thought every day to encounter
the Scottish army.

7. When My Lord out of the northern parts went
into Lincoln and Derbyshires with his army, to order
and reduce them to their allegiance and duty to His
Majesty, and from thence resolved to march into

1 1 6 The Duchess of Newcastle

the associate counties, (where in all probability he
would have made an happy end of the warr) he was
so importuned by those he left behind him, and
particularly the Commander-in-Chief, to return into
Yorkshire, alledging the enemy grew strong, and
would mine them all, if he came not speedily to
succour and assist them ; that in honour and duty he
could do no otherwise but grant their requests ; when
as yet being returned into those parts, he found
them secure and safe enough from the enemies
attempts.

8. My Lord (as heretofore mentioned) had as great
private enemies about His Majesty, as he had publick
enemies in the field, who used all the endeavour they
could to pull him down.

9. There was such jugling, treachery, and falshood
in his own army, and amongst some of his own officers,
that it was impossible for My Lord to be prosperous
and successful in his designs and undertakings.

10. My Lord's army being the chief and greatest
army which His Majesty had, and in which consisted
his prime strength and power; the parliament resolved
at last to join all their forces with the army of the
Scots (which when it came out of Scotland, was above
twenty thousand men) to oppose, and if possible, to
mine it; well knowing, that if they did pull down
My Lord, they should be masters of all the three
kingdoms; so that there were three armies against
one. But although My Lord suffered much by the
negligence (and sometimes treachery) of his officers,
and was unfortunately called back into Yorkshire,
from his march he designed for the associate counties,
and was forced to part with a great number of his
forces and ammunition, as aforementioned; yet he
would hardly have been overcome, and his army

Life of the Duke 1 17

ruined by the enemy, had he but had some timely
supply and assistance at the siege of York, or that his
counsel had been taken in not fighting the enemy then,
or that the battel had been differed some two or three
dayes longer, until those forces were arrived which
he expected, namely three thousand men out of
Northumberland, and two thousand drawn out of
several garisons. But the chief misfortune was, that
the enemy fell upon the King's forces before they
were all put into a Battallia, and took them at their
great disadvantage ; which caused such a panick fear
amongst them, that most of the horse of the right
wing of His Majesty's forces, betook themselves to
their heels; insomuch, that although the left wing
(commanded by the Lord Goring, and my brother
Sir Charles Lucas) did their best endeavour, and beat
back the enemy three times, and My Lord's own
regiment of foot charged them so couragiously, that
they never broke, but died most of them in their
ranks and files; yet the power of the enemy being
too strong, put them at last to a total rout and confu-
sion. Which unlucky disaster put an end to all future
hopes of His Majesties party; so that My Lord seeing
he had nothing left in his power to do His Majesty
any further service in that kind (for had he stayed, he
would have been forced to surrender all those towns
and garisons in those parts, that were yet in His
Majesties devotion, as afterwards it also happened)
resolved to quit the kingdom, as formerly is mentioned.
And these are chiefly the obstructions to the good
success of My Lord's designs in the late Civil Wars;
which being rightly considered, will save him blame-
less from what otherwise would be laid to his charge ;
for, as according to the old saying, 'Tis easiefor men
to swim, when they are held up by the chin ; so on the

1 1 8 The Duchess of Newcastle

other side, it is very dangerous and dif&cult for them
to endeavour it, when they are pulled down b}?^ the
heels, and beaten upon their heads.

3. Of His Loyalty and Sufferings

I DARE boldly and justly say, that there never was,
nor is a more loyal and faithful subject then My
Lord: not to mention the trust he discharged in all
those imployments, which either King James, or
King Charles the First, or His now gracious master
King Charles the Second, were pleased to bestow
upon him, which he performed with such care and
fidelity, that he never disobeyed their commands
in the least ; I will onely note,

1. That he was the first that appear'd in aiTnes
for His Majesty, and engaged himself and all his
friends he could for His Majesties service ; and though
he had but two sons which were young, and one onely
brother, yet they all were with him in the wars: his
two sons had commands, but his brother, though he
had no command, by reason of the weakness of his
body, yet he was never from My Lord when he was
in action, even to the last; for he was the last with
My Lord in the field in that fatal battel upon Hessom-
moor, near York ; and though my brother, Sir Charles
Lucas, desired My Lord to send his sons away, when
the said battel was fought, yet he would not, saying,
his sons should shew their loyalty and duty to His
Majesty, in venturing their lives, as well as himself.

2. My Lord was the chief and onely person, that
kept up the power of his late Majesty; for when his
army was lost, all the King's party was mined in all
three of His Majesties kingdoms; because in his army
lay the chief strength of all the royal forces ; it being

Life of the Duke 1 1 9

the greatest and best formed army which His Majesty
had, and the onely support both of His Majesties
person and power, and of the hopes of all his loyal
subjects in all his dominions.

3. My Lord was 16 years in banishment and hath
lost and suffered most of any subject, that suffered
either by war, or otherways, except those that lost
their lives, and even that he valued not, but exposed
it to so eminent dangers that nothing but Heaven's
decree had ordained to save it.

4. He never minded his own interest more then his
loyaltie and duty, and upon that account never
desired nor received any thing from the Crown to
enrich himself, but spent great sums in His Majesties
service ; so that after his long banishment and return
into England, I observed his ruined estate was like
an earthquake, and his debts Hke thunderbolts, by
which, he was in danger of being utterly undone, had
not patience and prudence, together with Heaven's
blessings, saved him from that threatening mine.

5. He never repined at his losses and sufferings,
because he lost and suffered for his king and countrey ;
nay, so far was he from that, that I have heard him
say, if the same warrs should happen again, and he
was sure to lose both his life, and all he had left him,
yet he would most willingly sacrifice it for His
Majesties service.

6. He never connived or conspired with the enemy,
neither directly nor indirectly; for though some
person of quality being sent in the late wars to him
into the north, from his late Majesty, who was then
at Oxford, with some message, did withal in private
acquaint him, that some of the nobility that were
with the King, desired him to side with them against
His Majesty, alledging that if Hig Majesty should

1 20 The Duchess of Newcastle

become an absolute conqueror, both himself and the
rest of the nobility would lose all their rights and
priviledges; yet he was so far from consenting to it,
that he returned him this answer, namely, that he
entered into actions of war, for no other end, but for
the service of his king and master, and to keep up
His Majesties rights and prerogatives, for which he
was resolved to venture both his life, posterity and
estate; for certainly, said he, the nobility cannot fall
if the King be victorious, nor can they keep up their
dignities, if the King be overcome.

This message was delivered by word of mouth,
but none of their names mentioned ; so that it is not
certainly known whether it was a real truth or not;
more probable it was, that they intended to sound
My Lord, or to make, if possible, more division; for
certainly not all that pretended to be for the King,
were his friends ; and I my self remember very well,
when I was with Her Majesty, the now Queen-Mother
in Oxford, (although I was too young to perceive their
intrigues, yet I was old enough to observe) that there
were great factions both amongst the courtiers and
soldiers. But My Lord's loyalty was such, that
he kept always faithful and true to His Majesty, and
could by no means be brought to side with the
rebellious party, or to juggle and mind his own
interest more then His Majesties service; and this
was the cause that he had as great private enemies at
Court, as he had publick enemies in the field, who
sought as much his mine and destruction privately,
and would cast aspersions upon his loyalty and duty
as these did publickly oppose him.

In short, that it may appear the better what loyal
and faithful services My Lord has done both for his
la.te Majesty King Charles the First, and his now

Life of the Duke I2i

gracious master King Charles the Second, I have
thought fit to subjoin both their Majesties commenda-
tions which they were pleased to give him, when for
his great and loyal services they confered upon him
the titles and dignities of Marquess, and Duke of
Newcastle.

A Copy of the Preamble of My Lord's Patent for
Marquess, Englished.

Rex Sc. Salutem.

WHEREAS it appears to Us, That William Earl of
Newcastle upon Tyne, besides his most Eminent Birth
and splendid Alliances, hath equalled all those Titles
with which he is adorned by Desert, and hath also wonne
them by Virtue, Indiistry, Prudence, and a stedfast
Faith : Whitest with dangers and expences gathering
together Soldiers, Armes, and all other War-like Habili-
ments : and applying them as well in Our Affairs, as
most plentifully sending them to Us, {having fore-
thought of Our Dignity and security) he was ready with
Us in all Actions in York-shire, and governed the Town
of Newcastle, and Castle in the mouth of Tyne, at the
time of that fatal Revolt of the People who were got
together ; and with a Bond of his Friends did oppor-
tunely seize that Port, and settled it a Garison ; bringing
Armes to Us [then Our onely relief :) In which Service
so strongly going on, [which was of grand moment to our
affairs) We do gratefully remember him still to have
stood to : Afterwards, having Mustered together a good
Army, [Our self being gone else-where) the Rebels now
enjoying almost all York-shire, and the chief est Fortress
of all the Country now appearing to have scarce refuge
or safety for him against the swelling Rebels, (the whole
Country then desiring and praying for his coming, that
he might timely relieve them in their desperate condition) .

122 The Duchess of Newcastle

And leading his said Army in the midst of Winter
gave the Rebels Battel in his passage, vanquish' d them,
and put them to flight, and took from them several
Garisons, and places of Refuge, and restored Health
to the Subjects, and by his many Victories, Peace and
Security to the Country es : Witness those places, made
Noble by the death and flight of the Rebels : in Lincoln-
shire, Gainsborough and Lincoln; in Derby-shire,
Chesterfield; but in York-shire, Peirce-bridge, Sea-
croft, Tankeriy, Tadcaster, Sheffield, Rotheram,
Yarum, Beverly, Cavvood, Selb}^ Halifax, Leeds, and
above all, Bradford; where when the Yorkshire- and
Lancashire- i^e^c/s were united, and Battel oined with
them. ; when Our Army as well by the great numbers of
the Rebels, as much more the badness of Our ground
was so prest upon, that the Soldiers now seemed to think
of flying ; He, their General, with a full Carier, com-
manding two Troops to follow him, broke into the very
rage of the Battel, and with so much violence fell upon
the right Wing of those Rebels, That those who were but
now certain of Victory, iurn'd their backs, and fled
from the Conqueror, who by his Wisdom, Virtue and
his own Hand, brought death and flight to the Rebels,
Victory and Glory to Himself, Plunder to the Soldiery,
and 22 great Guns, and many Ensigns to Us. Nor was
there before this, wanting to so much Virtue, equal
Felicity, for Our most beloved Consort, after a dismal
Tempest coming from Holland, being drove ashore at
Burlington, and undergoing a more grievous danger,
by the excursions of the Rebels, then the tossing and
tumbling of the Sea ; He having heard of it, speedily
goes to Her with his Army, and dutifully receiveth Her,
in safety brings her, and with all security conducts her
to Us at Oxford. Whereas therefore the aforesaid Earl
Jiath raised so many Monimients of His Virtue and

Life of the Duke 123

Fidelity towards Us, Our Queen, Children, and Our
Kingdom ; when also he doth at this time establish with
safety, and with His Power defend the northern parts of
Our Kingdom against the Rebels ; when lastly, nothing
more concerns Mankind and Princes, and nothing can
he more just, then that he may receive for his Deeds, a
Reward suitable to his name, which requires that he who
defends the Borders, should be created by Us, Governour
or Marquess of the Borderers. Know therefore, S-c.

A Copy of the Preamble of My Lord's Patent for
Duke, Englished.

Rex S-c. Salutem.

WHEREAS Our most beloved and faithful Cousin and
Counsellor, William Earl and Marquess of Newcastle
upon Tyne, &c. worthy of his famous Name, Blood and
Office, of large Honours, has been eminent in so many,
and so great Services performed to Us and Otir Father
{of ever blessed memory) that his Merits are still produc-
ing new effects. We have decreed likewise to add more
Honour to his former. And though these his such eminent
Actions, which he hath faithfully and valiantly per-
formed to Us, Our Father, and Our Kingdom, speak
loud enough in themselves ; yet since the valiant
services of a good Subject are always pleasant to re-
member, We have thought fit to have them in part
related for a good Example and Encouragement to Virtue.
The great proofs of his Wisdom and Piety are
sufficiently known to Us from Our younger years, and
We shall alwayes retain a sense of those good Principles
he instilled into Us ; the care of Our Youth which he
happily undertook for Our good, he as faithfully and
well discharged. Our years growing up amidst bad
Times, and the harsh Necessities of Warr, a new Charge

1 24 The Duchess of Newcastle

and Care of Loyaltie, the Kingdom and Religion calVd
him off to make use of his further Diligence and Valour.
Rebellion spread abroad, he levied Loyal Forces in great
numbers, opposed the Enemy, won so many and so great
Victories in the Field, took in so many Towns, Castles,
and Garisons, as well in Our Northern parts, as else-
where ; and behaved himself with so great Courage and
Valour in the defending also what he had got, especially
at the Siege of York, which he maintain' d against three
Potent Armies 0/ Scots and English, closely beleaguer-
ing, and with emulation assaulting it for three Months
(till Relief was brought) to the wonder and envy of the
Enemy ; that, if Loyal and Humane Force could have
prevailed, he had soon restored Fidelity, Peace and his
KING to the Nation, which was then hurrying to Ruine
by an unhappy Fate ; So that Rebellion getting the
upper hand, and no place being left for him to act
further valiantly in, for his King and Countrey, he still
retain' d the same Loyalty and Valour in suffering, being
an inseparable Follower of Our Exile ; during which sad
Catastrophe, his whole Estate was sequestred and sold
from him, and his Person alwayes one of the first of
those few who were excepted both for Life and Estate
(which was offer' d to all others). Besides, his Virtues
are accompanied with a Noble Blood, being of a Family
by each Stock equally adorn'd and endow' d with great
Honours and Riches. For which Reasons We have
resolv'd to grace the said Marquess with a new Mark
of our Favour, he being every way deserving of it, as
one who lov'd vertue equal to his Noble Birth, and
possess' d Patrimonies suitable to both, as long as
loyalty had any place to shew it self in our Realm; which
possessions he so well employ' d, and at last for Us and
Our Fathers service lost, till he was with Us restor'd.
Know therefore, &c.

Life of the Duke 125

4. Of his Prudence and Wisdom

My Lord's prudence and wisdom hath been sufficiently
apparent both in his publick and private actions and
imployments ; for he hath such a natural inspection,
and judicious observation of things, that he sees
beforehand what will come to pass, and orders his
affairs accordingly. To which purpose I cannot but
mention, that Laud, the then Archbishop of Canter-
bury, between whom and My Lord, interceded a great
and intire friendship, which he confirmed by a legacy
of a diamond, to the value of 200/. left to My Lord
when he died, which was much for him to bequeath;
for though he was a great statesman, and in favour
with his late Majesty, yet he was not covetous to hoard
up wealth, but bestowed it rather upon the pubHck,
repairing the Cathedral of St. Paul's in London, which,
had God granted him life, he would certainly have
beautified, and rendered as famous and glorious as
any in Christendom: this said Archbishop was
pleased to tell his late Majesty, that My Lord was one
of the wisest and prudentest persons that ever he was
acquainted with.

For further proof, I cannot pass by that My Lord
told his late Majesty King Charles the First, and
Her Majesty the now Queen-Mother, some time before
the wars, that he observed by the humours of the
people, the approaching of a civil war, and that His
Majesties person would be in danger of being deposed,
if timely care was not taken to prevent it.

Also when My Lord was at Antwerp, the Marquess
of Montross, before he went into Scotland, gave My
Lord a visit, and acquainted him with his intended
journey, asking My Lord whether he was not also

126 The Duchess of Newcastle

going for England ? My Lord answered, he was ready
to do His Majesty what service he could, and would
shun no opportunity, where he perceived he could
effect something to His Majesties advantage; nay,
said he, if His Majesty should be pleased to command
my single person to go against the whole army of the
enemy, although I was sure to lose my life, yet out of
a loyal duty to His Majesty, and in obedience to his
commands, I should never refuse it. But to venture
(said he) the life of my friends, and to betray them in
a desperate action, without any probability of doing
the least good to His Majesty, would be a very
unjust and unconscionable act ; for my friends might
perhaps venture with me upon an implicite faith,
that I was so honest as not to engage them without
a firm and solid foundation; but I wanting that, as
having no ships, armes, ammunition, provision, forts,
and places of rendezvous, and what is the chief thing,
money; to what purpose would it be to draw them
into so hazardous an action, but to seek their mine
and destruction, without the least benefit to His
Majesty? Then the Marquess of Montross asked My
Lord's advice, and what he should do in such a case ?
My Lord answered, that he knowing best his own
countrey, power and strength, and what probability
he had of forces, and other necessaries for warr, when
he came into Scotland, could give himself the best
advice; but withall told him, that if he had no
provision nor ammunition, armes and places of
rendezvous for his men to meet and join, he would
likely be forced to hide his head, and suffer for his
rash undertaking: which unlucky fate did also
accordingly befall that worthy person.

These passages I mention to no other end, but to
declare My Lord's judgment and prudence in worldly

Life of the Duke 127

affairs; whereof there are so many, that if I should
set them all down, it would swell this history to a big
volume. They may in some sort be gathered from
his actions mentioned heretofore, especially the
ordering of his affairs in the time of warr, with such
conduct, prudence and wisdom, that notwithstanding
at the beginning of his undertaking that great trust
and honourable emplojTnent which his late Majesty
was pleased to confer upon him, he saw so little
appearance of performing his designs with good
success. His Majesty's revenues being then much
weakened, and the magazines and publick purse, in
the enemies power, besides several other obstructions
and hindrances; yet as he undertook it chearfully,
and out of pure loyalty and obedience to His Majesty;
so he ordered it so wisely, that so long as he acted by
his own counsels, and was personally present at the
execution of his designs, he was always prosperous
in his success. And although he had so great an
army, as aforementioned, yet by his wise and prudent
conduct, there appeared no visible sign of devastation
in any of the countreys where he marched; for first,
he settled a constant rule for the regular levy of money
for the convenient maintenance of the soldiery.
Next, he constituted such officers of his army, that
most of them were known to be gentlemen of large
and fair estates, which drew a good part of their
private revenues, to serve and support them in their
pubhck employments; wherein My Lord did lead
them the way by his own good example.

To which may be added his wisdom in ordering
the government of the Church, for the advancement
of the orthodox rehgion, and suppression of factions ; .
as also in coyning, printing, knighting, and the like,,
which he used with great discretion and prudence,.

128 The Duchess of Newcastle

onely for the interest of His Majesty, and the benefit
of the kingdom, as formerly has been mentioned.

The prudent mannage of his private and domestick
affairs, appears sufi&ciently: i. In his marriage.

2. In the ordering and increasing his estate before
the wars, which notwithstanding his noble house-
keeping and hospitality, and his generous bounty
and charity, he increased to the value of 100,000/.

3. In the ordering his affairs in the time of banish-
ment, where although he received not the least of
his own estate, during all the time of his exile, until
his return; yet maintained himself handsomely and
nobly, according to his quality, as much as his condi-
tion at that time would permit. 4. In reducing his
torn and ruined estate after his return, which beyond
all probability, himself hath setled and ordered so,
that his posterity will have reason gratefully to
remember it.

In short; although My Lord naturally loves not
business, especially those of state (though he under-
stands them as well as anybody) yet what business
or affairs he cannot avoid, none will do them better
then himself. His private affairs he orders without
any noise or trouble, not over-hastily, but wisely:
neither is he passionate in acting of business, but
hears patiently, and orders soberly, and pierces into
the heart or bottom of a business at the first encoun-
ter; but before all things, he considers well before
he undertakes a business, whether he be able to go
through it or no, for he never ventures upon either
publick or private business, beyond his strength.

And here I cannot forbear to mention, that my
noble Lord, when he was in banishment, presumed
out of his duty and love to his gracious master our
now soveraign King Charles the Second, to write and

Life of the Duke 129

send him a little book, or rather a letter wherin he
delivered his opinion concerning the government of
his dominions, whensoever God should be pleased to
restore him to his throne, together with some other
notes and observations of foreign states and kingdoms ;
but it being a private offer to his sacred Majesty, I
dare not presume to publish it.

5. Of his Blessings

Although My Lord hath been one of the most
unfortunate persons of his rank and quality, which
this later age did produce ; yet Heaven hath been so
propitious to him, that it bestowed some blessings
upon him even in the midst of his misfortunes, and
supported him against Fortune's mahce, which other-
wise, as it seems, had designed his total ruine and
destruction: of these blessings I may name in the
first place,

1. The royal favours of his gracious soveraign's,
and the good esteem they had of his fidelity and
loyalty; which as it was the chief of his endeavours,
so he esteemed it above all the rest. To repeat them
particularly would be too tedious, and they are
sufficiently apparent out of the precedent history;
onely this I may add, that King Charles the First,
out of a singular favour to My Lord, was pleased
upon his most humble request, to create several
noble-men; the names of them, lest I commit an
offence, I shall not mention, by reason most men
usually pretend such claimes upon the ground of
their own merit.

2. That God was pleased to bless him with wealth
and power, to enable him the better for the service
of his king and country.

£

130 The Duchess of Newcastle

3. That he made him happy in his marriage; (for
his first wife was a very kind, loving and virtuous
lady) and blessed him with dutiful and obedient
children, free from vices, noble and generous both in
their natures and actions; who did all that lay in
their power to support and relieve My Lord their
father in his banishment, as before is mentioned.

4. The kindness and civility which My Lord
received from strangers, and the inhabitants of those
places, where he lived during the time of his banish-
ment; for had it not been for them, he would have
perished in his extream wants; but it pleased God
so to provide for him, that although he wanted an
estate, yet he wanted not credit; and although he
was banished and forsaken by his own friends and
countr3mien, yet he was civilly received and relieved
by strangers, until God blessed him.

Lastly, with a happy return to his native country,
his dear children, and his own estate ; which although
he found much ruined and broke, yet by his prudence
and wisdom, hath ordered as well as he could; and I
hope, and pray God to add this blessing to all the rest,
that he may live long to encrease it for the benefit
of his posterity.

6. Of his Honours and Dignities

The honours, titles and dignities which were con-
ferred upon My Lord, by King James, King Charles
the First, and King Charles the Second, partly as an
encouragement for future service, and a reward for
past, are following.

I. He was made Knight of the Bath, when he was
but 15 or 16 years of age, at the creation of Henry,
Prince of Wales, King James's eldest son.

Life of the Duke 131

2. King James created him Viscount Mansfield,
and Baron of Bolsover.

3. King Charles the First constituted him Lord
Lieutenant of Nottinghamshire, and

4. Lord Warden of the Forrest of Sherwood ; as also

5. Lord Lieutenant of Derbyshire.

6. He chose him governour to his son Charles, our
now gracious King; and

7. Made him one of his honourable privy council.

8. He constituted him governour of the town and
county of Newcastle, and general of all His Majesties
forces raised, and to be raised in the northern parts
of England; as also of the several counties of Notting-
ham, Lincoln, Rutland, Derby, Stafford, Leicester,
Warwick, Northampton, Huntingdon, Cambridge,
Norfolk, Sussex, Essex and Hereford, together with
all the appurtenances belonging to so great a power, as
is formerly declared.

9. He conferred upon him the honour and title
of Earl of Newcastle, and Baron of Bothal and Hepple.

10. He created him Marquess of Newcastle.

11. His Majesty King Charles the Second, was
pleased, when My Lord was in banishment, to make
him Knight of the most noble order of the Garter; and

12. After his return into England, chief justice in
Eyre Trent-North.

13. He created him Duke of Newcastle, and Earl
of Ogle.

7. Of the Entertainments he made for King

Charles the First

Though My Lord hath alwayes been free and noble
in his entertainments and feastings, yet he was pleased
to show his great affection and duty^to his gracious

132 The Duchess of Newcastle

King, Charles the First, and Her Majesty the Queen,
in some particular entertainments which he made of
purpose for them before the late warrs.

When His Majesty was going into Scotland to be
crowned, he took his way through Nottinghamshire;
and lying at Worksop-Mannor, hardly two miles
distant from Welbeck, where My Lord then was,
My Lord invited His Majesty thither to a dinner,
which he was graciously pleased to accept of: this
entertainment cost My Lord between four and five
thousand pounds; which His Majesty liked so well,
that a year after his return out of Scotland, he was
pleased to send My Lord word, that Her Majesty
the Queen was resolved to make a progress into the
northern parts, desiring him to prepare the like
entertainment for her, as he had formerly done for
him: which My Lord did, and endeavoured for it
with all possible care and industry, sparing nothing
that might add splendour to that feast, which both
their Majesties were pleased to honour with their
presence: Ben Johnson he employed in fitting such
scenes and speeches as he could best devise ; and sent
for all the gentry of the country to come and wait on
their Majesties; and in short, did all that ever he
could imagine, to render it great, and worthy their
royal acceptance.

This entertainment he made at Bolsover-Castle
in Derbyshire, some five miles distant from Welbeck,
and resigned Welbeck for their Majesties lodging;
it cost him in all between fourteen and fifteen thousand
pounds.

Besides these two, there was another small enter-
tainment which My Lord prepared for his late Majesty
in his own park at Welbeck, when His Majesty came
down, with his two nephews, the now Prince Elector

Life of the Duke 133

Palatine, and his brother Prince Rupert, into the
Forrest of Sherwood; which cost him fifteen hundred
pounds.

And this I mention not out of a vain-glory, but to
declare the great love and duty My Lord had for
his gracious King and Queen, and to correct the
mistakes committed by some historians, who not
being rightly informed of those entertainments, make
the world believe falshood for truth. But as I said,
they were made before the warrs, when My Lord had
the possession of a great estate ; and wanted nothing
to express his love and duty to his soveraign in that
manner; whereas now he should be much to seek to
do the like, his estate being so much ruined by the
late civil wars, that neither himself nor his posterity
will be able so soon to recover it.

8. His Education

His education was according to his birth; for as he
was born a gentleman, so he was bred like a gentle-
man. To school-learning he never shewed a great
inclination ; for though he was sent to the university,
and was a student of St. John's Colledge in Cambridge,
and had his tutors to instruct him ; yet they could
not perswade him to read or study much, he taking
more dehght in sports, then in learning; so that his
father being a wise man, and seeing that his son had
a good natural wit, and was of a very good disposition,
suffered him to follow his own genius; whereas his
other son Charles, in whom he found a greater love
and inclination to learning, he encouraged as much
that way, as possibly he could.

One time it happened that a young gentleman, one
of My Lord's relations, had bought some land, at the

134 The Duchess of Newcastle

same time when My Lord had bought a singing-boy
for 50/. a horse for 50Z. and a dog for 2I. which humour
his father Sir Charles Uked so well, that he was pleased
to say, that if he should find his son to be so covetous,
that he would buy land before he was 20 years of age,
he would disinherit him. But above all the rest, My
Lord had a great inclination to the art of horseman-
ship and weapons, in which later, his father Sir Charles
being a most ingenuous and unparallelled master of
that age, was his onely tutor, and kept him also
several masters in the art of horsemanship, and sent
him to the mewse to Mons. Antoine, who was then
accounted the best master in that art. But My Lord's
delight in those heroick exercises was such, that he
soon became master therof himself, which encreased
much his father's hopes of his future perfections,
who being himself a person of a noble and heroick
nature, was extreamly well pleased to observe his
son take delight in such arts and exercises as were
proper and fit for a person of quality.

9. His Natural Wit and Understanding

Although My Lord has not so much of scholarship
and learning as his brother Sir Charles Cavendish had,
yet he hath an excellent natural wit and judgment,
and dives into the bottom of every thing; as it is
evidently apparent in the fore-mentioned art of
horsemanship and weapons, which by his own
ingenuity he has reformed and brought to such perfec-
tion, as never any one has done heretofore : and though
he is no mathematician by art, yet he hath a very
good mathematical brain, to demonstrate truth by
natural reason, and is both a good natural and moral
philosopher, not by reading philosophical books, but

Life of the Duke 1 35

by his own natural understanding and observation,
by which he hath found out many truths.

To pass by several other instances, I'le but mention,
that when My Lord was at Paris, in his exile, it hap-
pened one time, that he discoursing with some of his
friends, amongst whom was also that learned philo-
sopher Hobbes, they began amongst the rest, to argue
upon this subject, namely. Whether it were possible
to make man hy art fly as birds do ; and when some of
the company had deUvered their opinion, viz. That
they thought it probable to be done by the help of
artificial wings: My Lord declared, that he deemed
it altogether impossible, and demonstrated it by this
following reason: man's armes, said he, are not set
on his shoulders in the same manner as bird's wings
are; for that part of the arm which joins to the
shoulder is in man placed inward, as towards the
breast, but in birds outward, as towards the back;
which different and contrary position or shape
hinders that man cannot have the same flying-action
with his armes, as birds have with their wings; which
argument Mr. Hobbes liked so well, that he was,
pleased to make use of it in one of his books called
Leviathan, if I remember well.

Some other time they falling into a discourse con-
cerning witches, Mr. Hobbes said, that though he
could not rationally believe there were witches, yet
he could not be fully satisfied to believe there were
none, by reason they would themselves confess it, if
strictly examined.

To which My Lord answered, that though for his
part he cared not whether there were witches or no ;
yet his opinion was, that the confession of witches,
and their suffering for it, proceeded from an erroneous
belief, viz. that they had made a contract with the

136 The Duchess of Newcastle

devil to serve him for such rewards as were in his
power to give them ; and that it was their rehgion to
worship and adore him; in which religion they had
such a firm and constant belief, that if any thing came
to pass according to their desire, they beheved the
devil had heard their prayers, and granted their
requests, for which they gave him thanks; but if
things fell out contrary to their prayers and desires,
then they were troubled at it, fearing they had
offended him, or not served him as they ought, and
asked him forgiveness for their offences. Also (said
My Lord) they imagine that their dreams are real
exterior actions; for example, if they dream they
flye in the air, or out of the chimney top, or that they
are turned into several shapes, they believe no other-
wise, but that it is really so : and this wicked opinion
makes them industrious to perform such ceremonies
to the devil, that they adore and worship him as their
God, and chuse to live and dye for him.

Thus My Lord declared himself concerning witches,
which Mr. Hobbes was also pleased to insert in his
fore-mentioned book; but yet My Lord doth not
count this opinion of his so universal, as if there were
none but imaginary witches; for he doth not speak
but of such a sort of witches as make it their religion
to worship the devil in the manner aforesaid. Nor
doth he think it a crime to entertain what opinion
seems most probable to him, in things, indifferent;
for in such cases men may discourse and argue as they
please, to exercise their wit, and may change and
alter their opinions upon more probable grounds and
reasons; whereas in fundamental matters both of
Church and State, he is so strict an adherent to them,
that he will never maintain or defend such opinions
which are in the least prejudicial to either.

Life of the Duke 1 37

One proof more Tie add to confirm his natural
understanding and judgment, which was upon some
discourse I held with him one time, concerning that
famous chymist Van Helmont, who in his writings is
very invective against the school-men, and amongst
the rest, accuses them for taking the radical moisture
for the fat of animal bodies. Whereupon My Lord
answered, that surely the school-men were too wise
to commit such an error; for, said he, the radical
moisture is not the fat or tallow of an animal, but an
oily and balsamous substance ; for the fat and tallow,
as also the watery parts, are cold; whereas the oily
and balsamous parts, have at all times a lively heat ;
which makes that those creatures which have much
of that oyle or balsom, are long-lived, and appear
young; and not onely animals, but also vegetables,
which have much of that oyle or balsom, as ivy, bayes,
laurel, holly, and the like, live long, and appear fresh
and green, not onely in winter, but when they are
old. Then I asked My Lord's opinion concerning the
radical heat : to which he answered, that the radical
heat lived in the radical moisture ; and when the one
decayed, the other decayed also; and then was
produced either an unnatural heat, which caused
an unnatural dryness; or an unnatural moisture,
which caused dropsies, and these, an unnatural
coldness.

Lastly; his natural wit appears by his delight in
poetry; for I may justly call him the best lyrick and
dramatick poet of this age: his comedies do suffi-
ciently shew his great observation and judgment, for
they are composed of these three ingredients, viz.
wit, humour and satyre ; and his chief design in them,
is to divulge and laugh at the follies of mankind; to
persecute vice, and to encourage virtue.

E2

138 The Duchess of Newcastle

10. Of His Natural Humour and Disposition

My Lord may justly be compared to Titus the
Deliciae of Mankind, by reason of his sweet, gentle
and obliging nature; for though his wisdom and
experience found it impossible to please all men,
because of their different humours and dispositions;
yet his nature is such, that he will be sorry when he
seeth that men are displeased with him out of their
own ill natures, without any cause; for he loves all
that are his friends, and hates none that are his
enemies: he is a loyal subject, a kind husband, a
loving father, a generous master, and a constant
friend.

His natural love to his parents has been so great,
that I have heard him say, he would most willingly,
and without the lest repining, have begged for his
daily relief, so God would but have let his parents live.

He is true and just both in his words and actions,
and has no mean or petty designs, but they are all
just and honest.

He condemns not upon report, but upon proof;
nor judges by words, but actions; he forgets not past
service, for present advantage; but gives a present
reward to a present desert.

He hath a great power over his passions, and hath
had the greatest tryals thereof; for certainly he must
of necessity have a great share of patience, that can
forgive so many false, treacherous, malicious and
ungrateful persons as he hath done ; but he is so wise,
that his passion never out-runs his patience, nor his
extravagancies his prudence; and although his
private enemies have been numerous, yet I verily
believe, there is never a subject more generally beloved
than he is.

Life of the Duke i 39

He hates pride and loves humility; is civil to
strangers, kind to his acquaintance, and respectful
to all persons, according to their quality: he never
regards place, except it be for ceremony: to the
meanest person he'll put off his hat, and suffer every
body to speak to him.

He never refuses any petition, but accepts them;
and being informed of the business, will give a just,
and as much as lies in him, a favourable answer to
the petitioning party.

He easily pardons, and bountifully rewards; and
always praises particular men's virtues, but covers
their faults with silence.

He is full of charity and compassion to persons that
are in misery, and full of clemency and mercy; in so
much, that when he was general of a great army, he
would never sit in council himself upon causes of life
and death, but granted pardon to many delinquents
that were condemned by his council of war; so that
some were forced to petition him not to do it, by
reason it was an ill president for others. To which
My Lord merrily answered, that if they did hang all,
they would leave him none to fight.

His courage he always shewed in action more then
in words, for he would fight, but not rant.

He is not vain-glorious to heighten or brag of his
heroick actions; witness that great victory upon
Atherton-moor, after which he would not suffer his
trumpets to sound, but came quietly and silently into
the city of York, for which he would certainly have
been blamed by those that make a great noise upon
small causes ; and love to be applauded, though their
actions little deserve it.

His noble bounty and generosity is so manifest to
all the world, that I should light a candle to the sun,

140 The Duchess of Newcastle

if I should strive to illustrate it ; for he has no self-
designs or self-interest, but will rather wrong and
injure himself then others. To give you but one
proof of this noble vertue, it is known, that where he
hath a legal right to felon's goods, as he hath in a
great part of his estate, yet he never took or exacted
more then some inconsiderable share for acknowledg-
ment of his right ; saying, that he was resolved never
to grow rich by other men's misfortunes.

In short, I know him not addicted to any manner of
vice, except that he has been a great lover and admirer
of the female sex; which whether it be so great a
crime as to condemn him for it; I'le leave to the
judgment of young gallants and beautiful ladies.

II. Of His Outward Shape and Behaviour

His shape is neat, and exactly proportioned; his
stature of middle size, and his complexion sanguine.
His behaviour is such, that it might be a pattern
for all gentlemen; for it is courtly, civil, easie and
free, without formality or constraint; and yet hath
something in it of grandure, that causes an awful
respect towards him.

12. Of His Discourse

His discourse is as free and unconcerned, as his
behaviour, pleasant, witty, and instructive; he is
quick in reparties or sudden answers, and hates
dubious disputes, and premeditated speeches. He
loves also to intermingle his discourse with some short
pleasant stories, and witty sayings, and always names
the author from whom he hath them; for he hates
to make another man's wit his own.

Life of the Duke 141

13. Of His Habit

He accouters his person according to the fashion, if
it be one that is not troublesome and uneasie for
men of heroick exercises and actions. He is neat and
cleanly; which makes him to be somewhat long in
dressing, though not so long as many effeminate
persons are. He shifts ordinarily once a day, and
every time when he uses exercise, or his temper is
more hot than ordinary.

14. Of His Diet

In his diet he is so sparing and temperate, that he
never eats nor drinks beyond his set proportion, so
as to satisfie onely his natural appetite: he makes
but one meal a day, at which he drinks two good
glasses of small-beer, one about the beginning, the
other at the end thereof, and a little glass of sack in
middle of his dinner, which glass of sack he also uses
in the morning for his breakfast, with a morsel of
bread. His supper consists of an egg, and a draught
of small-beer. And by this temperance he finds
himself very healthful, and may yet live many years,
he being now of the age of seventy-three, which I
pray God from my soul, to grant him.

15. His Recreation and Exercise

His prime pastime and recreation hath always been
the exercise of mannage and weapons ; which heroick
arts he used to practise every day; but I observing
that when he had over-heated himself, he would be
apt to take cold, prevailed so far, that at last he left
the frequent use of the mannage, using nevertheless

142 The Duchess of Newcastle

still the exercise of weapons; and though he doth
not ride himself so frequently as he hath done ; yet he
takes delight in seeing his horses of mannage rid by
his escuyers, whom he instructs in that art for his
own pleasure. But in the art of weapons (in which
he has a method beyond all that ever were famous in
it, found out by his own ingenuity and practice) he
never taught any body, but the now Duke of Bucking-
ham, whose guardian he hath been, and his own two
sons.

The rest of his time he spends in musick, poetry,
architecture and the like.

16. Of His Pedigree

Having made promise in the beginning of the first
book, that I would join a more large description of
the pedigree of my noble Lord and husband, to the
end of the history of his life: I shall now discharge
my self ; and though I could derive it from a longer
time, and reckon up a great many of his ancestors,
even from the time of William the Conqueror, he
being descended from the most ancient family of
the Gernouns, as Cambden relates in his Britannia,
in the description of Derbyshire ; yet it being a work
fitter for heralds, I shall proceed no further then his
grandfather, and shew you onely those noble families
which My Lord is allied to by his birth.

My Lord's grandfather by his father (as is formerly
mentioned) was Sir William Cavendish, privy-coun-
sellor and treasurer of the chamber to King Henry
the Eighth, Edward the Sixth, and Queen Mary ; who
married two wives; by the first he had onely two
daughters; but by the second, Elizabeth, who was
My Lord's grandmother, he had three sons and four

Life of the Duke 143

daughters, whereof one daughter died young. She
was daughter to John Hardwick of Hardwick, in the
county of Derby, Esq.; and had four husbands:
The first was — Barlow, Esq. ; who died before they
were bedded together, they being both very young.
The second was Sir WilHam Cavendish, My Lord's
grandfather, who being somewhat in years, married
her chiefly for her beauty; she had so much power
in his affection, that she perswaded him to sell his
estate which he had in the southern parts of England
(for he was very rich) and buy an estate in the
northern parts, viz. in Derbyshire, and thereabout,
where her own friends and kindred lived, which he
did; and having there setled himself, upon her
further perswasion, built a mannor-house in the same
county, called Chattesworth, which, as I have heard,
cost first and last above 80,000/. sterhng. But before
this house was finished, he died, and left six children,
viz. three sons and three daughters, which before
they came to be marriageable, she married a third
husband. Sir WiUiam St. Loo, captain of the guard to
Queen EHzabeth, and Grand Butler of England;
who dying without issue, she married a fourth
husband, George, Earl of Shrewsbury, by whom she
left no issue.

The children which she had by her second husband>
Sir WiUiam Cavendish, being grown marriageable;
the eldest son Henry married Grace the youngest
daughter of his father-in-law, the said George Earl
of Shrewsbury, which he had by his former wife
Gertrude, daughter of Thomas Manners, Earl of
Rutland, but died without issue.

The second son William, after Earl of Devonshire,
had two wives ; the first was an heiress by whom he
had children, but all died save one son, whose name

144 The Duchess of Newcastle

was also William, Earl of Devonshire: his second
wife was widdow to Sir Edward Wortly, who had
several children by her first husband, and but one
son by the said Will. Cavendish, after Earl of Devon-
shire, who dyed young.

His son by his first wife (William Earl of Devon-
shire) married Christian, daughter of Edward Lord
Bruce, a Scotsman, by whom he had two sons, and
one daughter; the eldest son William, now Earl of
Devonshire, married Elizabeth, the second daughter
of William Earl of Salisbury, by whom he has three
children, viz. two sons and one daughter, whereof
the eldest son William is married to the second
daughter of James now Duke of Ormond ; the second
son Charles is yet a youth: the daughter Anne
married the Lord Rich, the onely son and child to
Charles now Earl of Warwick; but he dyed without
issue.

The second son of William Earl of Devonshire,
and brother to the now Earl of Devonshire, was
unfortunately slain in the late civil warrs, as is before
mentioned.

The daughter of the said William Earl of Devon-
shire, sister to the now Earl of Devonshire, married
Robert Lord Rich, eldest son to Robert Earl of
Warwick, by whom she had but one son, who married,
but dyed without issue.

The third and youngest son of Sir William Caven-
dish, Charles Cavendish (My Lord's father) had two
wives; the first was daughter and coheir to Sir
Thomas Kidson, who dyed a year after her marriage,
without issue : the second was the younger daughter
of Cuthbert Lord Ogle, and after her elder and onely
sister Jane, wife to Edward Earl of Shrewsbury, who
dyed without issue, became heir to her father's estate

Life of the Duke 145

and title ; by whom he had three sons ; whereof the
eldest dyed in his infancy; the second was William,
my dear Lord and husband; the third, Charles, who
dyed a batchelour about the age of sixty-three.

My Lord hath had two wives; the first was Eliza-
beth, daughter and heir to William Basset of Bloore,
in the county of Stafford, Esq. ; and widow to Henry
Howard, younger son to Thomas Earl of Suffolk; by
whom he had ten children, viz. six sons, and four
daughters; whereof five, viz. four sons, and one
daughter, dyed young; the rest, viz. two sons and
three daughters, came to be married.

His elder son, Charles, Viscount of Mansfield,
married the eldest daughter and heir of Mr. Richard
Rogers, by whom he had but one daughter, who dyed
soon after her birth; and he dyed also without any
other issue.

His second son Henry, now Earl of Ogle, married
Francis the eldest daughter of Mr. William Pierrepont,
by whom he hath had three sons, and four daughters ;
two sons were born before their natural time; the
third, Henry Lord Mansfield, is alive: the four
daughters are, the Lady EHzabeth, Lady Frances,
Lady Margaret, and Lady Catherine.

My Lord's three daughters were thus married;
the eldest, Lady Jane, married Charles Cheiney,
Esq.; descended of a very noble and ancient family;
by whom she hath one son and two daughters. The
second, Lady Elizabeth, married John now Earl of
Bridgwater, then Lord Brackly, and eldest son to
John then Earl of Bridgwater ; who died in childbed,
and left five sons, and one daughter, whereof the
eldest son, John Lord Brackly, married the Lady
Elizabeth, onely daughter and child to James then
Earl of Middlessex.

146 The Duchess of Newcastle

My Lord's third daughter, the Lady Frances,
married Oliver Earl of BulHngbrook, and hath had
no child yet.

After the death of My Lord's first wife, who died
the 17th of April, in the year 1643, he married me,
Margaret, daughter to Thomas Lucas of St. Johns,
near Colchester, in Essex, Esquire; but hath no
issue by me.

And this is the posterity of the three sons of Sir
William Cavendish, My Lord's grandfather by his
father's side; the three daughters were disposed of
as folio weth :

The eldest, Frances Cavendish, married Sir Henry
Pierrepont of Hohn Pierrepont, in the county of
Nottingham, by whom she had two sons, whereof the
first died young; the second, Robert, after Earl of
Kingston upon Hull, married Gertrude, the eldest
daughter, and co-heir to Henry Talbot, fourth son to
George Earl of Shrewsbury, by whom he had five
sons and three daughters, whereof the eldest son,
Henry, now Marquess of Dorchester, hath had two
wives; the first Ceciha, eldest daughter to the Lord
Viscount Bayning, by whom he had several children,
of which there are living onely two daughters; the
eldest Anne, who married John Rosse, onely son to
John now Earl of Rutland; the second, Grace, who
is unmarried. His second wife was Catharine, second
daughter to James Earl of Derby, by whom he has
no issue living.

The second son of the Earl of Kingston, WilHam,
married the sole daughter and heir of Sir Thomas
Harries, by whom he had issue five sons, and five
daughters, whereof two sons and two daughters died
unmarried: the other six are,

Robert the eldest, who married Elizabeth,

Life of the Duke 147

daughter and co-heir to Sir John Evelyne, by whom
he has three sons, and one daughter. The second son
George, and the third Gervas, are yet unmarried.

The eldest daughter of William Pierrepont, Frances,
is married to My Lord's now onely son and heir,
Henry Earl of Ogle, as before is mentioned.

The second, Grace, is married to Gilbert now Earl
of Clare, by whom he hath issue, two sons, and three
daughters.

The third, Gertrude, is unmarried.

The third son of the Earl of Kingston, Francis
Pierrepont, married Elizabeth the eldest daughter
of Mr. Bray, by whom he had issue, one son, and one
daughter; the son, Robert, married Anne the daugh-
ter of Henry Murray, The daughter, Frances, married
William Pagatt, eldest son of William Pagatt. (Paget.)

The fourth son of the Earl of Kingston, Gervase,
is unmarried.

The fifth son, George Pierrepont, married the
daughter of Mr. Jonas, by whom he had two sons
unmarried, Henry and Samuel.

The three daughters of the said Earl of Kingston
are, Frances the eldest, who was married to Philip
Rowleston; the second, Mary, dyed young; the
third, Elizabeth, is unmarried.

The second daughter of Sir William Cavendish,
Elizabeth, married the Earl of Lennox, unkle to
King James ; by whom she had onely one daughter,
the Lady Arabella, who against King James' com-
mands (she being after him and his children, the next
heir to the crown) married William, the second son
to the Earl of Hereford; for which she was put into
the tower, where not long after she dyed.

The youngest daughter Mary Cavendish, married
Gilbert Talbot, second son to George Earl of Shrews-

148 The Duchess of Newcastle

bury; who after the decease of his father, and his
elder brother Francis, who dyed without issue, became
Earl of Shrewsbury; by whom she had issue, four
sons and three daughters ; the sons all dyed in their
infancy, but the daughters were married.

The eldest Mary Talbot, married William Herbert,
Earl of Pembroke, by whom (some eighteen years
after her marriage) she had one son, who dyed young.

The second daughter, Elizabeth, married Sir Henry
Gray, after Earl of Kent (the fourth Earl of England)
by whom she had no issue.

The third and j^oungest daughter Aletheia, married
Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, the first Earl and
Earl-Marshal of England ; by whom she left two sons,
James, who died beyond the seas without issue ; and
Henry, who married Elizabeth, daughter of Esme
Stuart, Duke of Lennox; by whom he had issue,
several sons, and one daughter; whereof the eldest
son, Thomas (since the Restauration of King Charles
the Second) was restored to the dignity of his ances-
tors, viz. Duke of Norfolk, next to the royal family,
the first Duke of England.

And this is briefly the pedigree of my dear Lord
and Husband, from his grandfather by his father's
side; concerning his kindred and alliances by his
mother, who was Katherine, daughter to Cuthbert
Lord Ogle, they are so many, that it is impossible for
me to enumerate them all. My Lord being by his
mother related to the chief of the most ancient families
of Northumberland, and other the northern parts;
onely this I may mention, that My Lord is a Peer of
the Realm, from the first year of King Edward the
Fourth his reign.

THE FOURTH BOOK

Containing Several Essays and Discourses
Gathered from the Mouth of My Noble Lord
AND Husband

With some few Notes of mine own

I have heard My Lord say,

I

That those wnich command the wealth of a kingdom,
command the hearts and hands of the people.

II

That he is a great monarch, who hath a soveraign
command over Church, laws and armes; and he a
wise monarch, that imploys his subjects for their
own profit (for their profit is his), encourages trades-
men, and assists and defends merchants.

Ill

That it is a part of prudence in a commonwealth or
kingdom to encourage drayners; for drowned lands
are onely fit to maintain and encrease some wild
ducks, whereas being drained, they are able to afford
nourishment and food to cattel, besides the producing
of several sorts of fruit and corn.

IV

That without a well-ordered force, a prince doth
but reign upon the courtesie of others.

149

150 The Duchess of Newcastle

That great princes should not suffer their chief
cities to be stronger than themselves.

VI

That great princes are half-armed, when their
subjects are unarmed, unless it be in time of foreign
wars.

VII

That the prince is richest, who is master of the
purse ; and he strongest that is master of the armes ;
and he wisest that can tell how to save the one, and
use the other.

VIII

The great princes should be the onely pay-masters
of their soldiers, and pay them out of their own
treasuries ; for all men follow the purse ; and so they '1
have both the civil and martial power in their hands.

IX

That great monarchs should rather study men,
then books ; for all affairs or business are amongst men.

That a prince should advance foreign trade or
trafQk to the utmost of his power, because no state
or kingdom can be rich without it ; and where subjects
are poor, the soveraign can have but little.

Life of the Duke 1 5 i

XI

That trade and traffick brings honey to the hive;
that is to say, riches to the commonwealth; whereas
other professions are so far from that, that they
rather rob the commonwealth, instead of enriching it.

XII

That it is not so much unseasonable weather that
makes the countrey complain of scarcit}^ but want
of commerce ; for whensoever commodities are cheap,
it is a sign that commerce is decayed; because the
cheapness of them shews a scarcity of money; for
example, put the case five men came to market to
buy a horse, and each of them had no more but ten
pounds, the seller can receive no more then what the
buyer has, but must content himself with those ten
pounds, if he be necessitated to sell his horse ; but if
each one of the buyers had an hundred pounds to
lay out for a horse, the seller might receive as much.
Thus commodities are cheap or dear, according to the
plenty or scarcity of money; and though we had
mynes of gold and silver at home, and no traffick
into foreign parts, yet we should want necessities
from other nations, which proves that no nation can
live or subsist well, without foreign trade and com-
merce; for God and nature have ordered it so, that
no particular nation is provided with all things.

XIII

That merchants by carrying out more commodities
then they bring in; that is to say, by selling more
then they buy, do enrich a state or kingdom with
money, that hath none in its own bowels; but what

152 The Duchess of Newcastle

kingdom or state soever hath mynes of gold and
silver, there merchants buy more then they sell, to
furnish and accommodate it with necessary provisions.

XIV

That debasing, and setting a higher value upon
money, is but a present shift of poor and needy
princes ; and doth more hurt for the future, then good
for the present.

XV

That foraign commerce causes frequent voyages;
and frequent voyages make skilful and experienced
seamen, and skilful seamen are a brazen wall to an
island.

XVI

That he is the powerfuUest monarch that hath the
best shipping; and that a prince should hinder his
neighbours as much as he can from being strong at
sea.

XVII

That wise states-men ought to understand the laws,
customes and trade of the commonwealth, and have
good intelligence both of foraign transactions and
designs, and of domestick factions; also they ought
to have a treasury, and well-furnished magazine.

XVIII

That it is a great matter in a state or kingdom, to
take care of the education of youth, to breed them
so, that they may know first how to obey, and then
how to command and order affairs wisely.

Life of the Duke 1 5 3

XIX

That it is great wisdom in a state, to breed and
train up good states-men: as, first, to let them be
some time at the universities: next, to put them to
the Innes of Court, that they may have some know-
ledge of the laws of the land ; then to send them to
travel with some ambassador, in the quality of secre-
tary; and let them be agents or residents in foraign
countreys. Fourthly, to make them clerks of the
signet, or council: and lastly, to make them secre-
taries of state, or give them some other employment
in state-affairs.

XX

That there should be more praying, and less preach-
ing; for much preaching breeds faction; but much
praying causes devotion.

XXI

That young people should be frequently cate-
chised, and that wise men rather then learned, should
be chosen heads of schools and colledges.

XXII

That the more divisions there are in Church and
State, the more trouble and confusion is apt to ensue;
wherefore too many controversies and disputes in the
one, and too many law-cases and pleadings in the
other ought to be avoided and suppressed.

XXIII

That disputes and factions amongst statesmen,
are forerunners of future disorders, if not total mines.

1 54 The Duchess of Newcastle

XXIV

That all books of controversies should be writ in
Latin, that none but the learned may read them, and
that there should be no disputations but in schools,
lest it breed factions amongst the vulgar ; for disputa-
tions and controversies are a kind of civil war, main-
tained by the pen, and often draw out the sword soon
after: also that all prayer-books should be writ in
the native language; that excommunications should
not be too frequent for every little and pretty trespass ;
that every clergy-man should be kind and loving to
his parishioners, not proud and quarrelsome.

XXV

That ceremony is nothing in itself, and yet doth
every thing ; for without ceremony there would be no
distinction neither in Church nor State.

XXVI

That orders and professions ought not to entrench
upon each other, lest in time they make a confusion
amongst themselves.

XXVII

That in a well-ordered state or government care
should be taken lest any degree or profession what-
soever swell too big, or grow too numerous, it being
not onely a hinderance to those of the same profession,
but a burden to the commonwealth, which cannot be
well if it exceeds in ext reams.

Life of the Duke 155

XXVIII

That the taxes should not be above the riches of
the commonwealth, for that must upon necessity
breed factions and civil wars, by reason a general
poverty united, is far more dangerous than a private
purse; for though their wealth be small, yet their
unity and combination makes them strong; so that
being armed with necessity, they become outragious
with despair.

XXIX

That heavy taxes upon farmes, mine the nobility
and gentry; for if the tenant be poor, the landlord
cannot be rich, he having nothing but his rents to
live on.

XXX

That it is not so much laws and religion, nor
rhetorick, that keeps a state or kingdom in order, but
armes ; which if they be not imployed to an evil use,
keep up the right and priviledges both of Crown,
Church and State.

XXXI

That no equivocations should be used either in
Church or law ; for the one causes several opinions to
the disturbance of men's consciences ; the other long
and tedious suits, to the disturbance of men's private
affairs ; and both to oftentimes mine and impoverish
the State.

XXXII

That in cases of robberies and murthers, it is better
to be severe, then merciful; for the hanging of a few,
will save the lives and purses of many.

156 The Duchess of Newcastle

XXXIII

That many laws do rather entrap, then help the
subject.

XXXIV

That no martial law should be executed, but in an
army.

XXXV

That the sheriffs in this kingdom of England have
been so expensive in liveries and entertainments in
the time of their sherifalty, as it hath ruined many
families that had but indifferent estates.

XXXVI

That the cutting down of timber in the time of
rebellion, has been an inestimable loss to this kingdom,
by reason of shipping; for though timber might be
had out of foreign countries that would serve for the
building of ships, yet there is none of such a temper as
our English oak; it being not onely strong and large,
but not apt to splint, which renders the ships of other
nations much inferior to ours; and that therefore it
would be very beneficial for the kingdom, to set out
some lands for the bearing of such oaks, by sowing of
acorns, and then transplanting them; which would
be like a storehouse for shipping, and bring an incom-
parable benefit to the kingdom, since in shipping
consists our greatest strength, they being the onely
walls that defend an island.

XXXVII

That the nobility and gentry in this kingdom, have
done themselves a great injury, by giving away (out
of a petty pride) to the commonalty, the power of

Life of the Duke 1 57

being juries and justices of peace ; for certainly they
cannot but understand, that that must of necessity
be an act of great consequence and power, which
concerns men's Hves, lands and estates.

XXXVIII

That it is no act of prudence to make poor and
mean persons governours or commanders, either by
land or sea; by reason their poverty causes them to
take bribes, and so betray their trust; at best, they
are apt to extort, which is a great grievance to the
people; besides, it breeds envy in the nobility and
gentry, who by that means rise into factions, and
cause disturbances in a state or commonwealth:
wherefore the best way is to chuse rich and honour-
able persons (or at least, gentlemen) for such employ-
ments, who esteem fame and honourable actions,
above their lives; and if they want skill, they must
get such under-officers as have more then themselves,
to instruct them.

XXXIX

That great princes should consider, before they
make war against foreign nations, whether they be
able to maintain it ; for if they be not able, then it is
better to submit to an honourable peace, then to
make warr to their great disadvantage; but if they
be able to maintain warr, then they'l force (in time)
their enemies to submit and yield to what tearms and
conditions they please.

XL

That, when a state or government is ensnarled and
troubled, it is more easie to raise the common people to
a factious mutiny, then to draw them to a loyal duty.

158 The Duchess of Newcastle

XLI

That in a kingdom where subjects are pt to rebel,
no offices or commands should be sold ; for those that
buy, will not onely use extortion, and practice unjust
wayes to make out their purchase, but be ablest to
rebel, by reason they are more for private gain, then
the publick good; for it is probable their principles
are like their purchases.

But, that all magistrates, officers, commanders,
heads and rulers, in what profession soever, both in
Church and State, should be chosen according to their
abilities, wisdom, courage, piety, justice, honesty and
loyalty; and then they'l mind the pubHc good, more
then their particular interest.

XLII

That those which have politick designs, are for the
most part dishonest, by reason their designs tend more
to interest, then justice.

XLIII

That great princes should onely have great, noble
and rich persons to attend them, whose purses and
power may alwayes be ready to assist them.

XLIV

That a poor nobility is apt to be factious; and a
numerous nobility is a burden to a commonwealth.

XLV

That in a monarchical government, to be for the
King, is to be for the Commonwealth ; for when head
and body are divided, the life of happiness dies, and
the soul of peace is departed.

Life of the Duke 1 59

XLVI

That, as it is a great error in a state to have all
affairs put into gazettes (for it overheats the people's
brains, and makes them neglect their private affairs,
by over-busying themselves with state-business;) so
it is great wisdom for a council of state to have good
intelligences (although they be bought with great
cost and charges) as well of domestick, as foreign
affairs and transactions, and to keep them in private
for the benefit of the commonwealth.

XLVII

That there is no better policy for a prince to please
his people, then to have many holy-day es for their
ease, and order several sports and pastimes for their
recreation, and to be himself sometimes spectator
thereof; by which means he'l not onely gain love and
respect from the people, but busie their minds in
harmless actions, sweeten their natures, and hinder
them from factious designs.

XLVIII

That it is more difficult and dangerous for a prince
or commander to raise an army in such a time when
the countrey is embroiled in a civil warr, then to lead
out an army to fight a battel; for when an army is
raised, he hath strength; but in raising it, he hath
none.

XLIX

That good commanders, and experienced soldiers,
are like skilfull fencers, who defend with prudence,
and assault wth courage, and kill their enemies by
art, not trusting their lives to chance or fortune;

1 60 The Duchess of Newcastle

for as a little man with skill, may easily kill an ignor-
ant giant; so a small army that hath experienced
commanders, may easily overcome a great army that
hath none.

That gallant men having no employment for heroick
actions, become lazy, as hating any other business;
whereas cowards and base persons are onely active
and stirring in times of peace, working ill designs to
breed factions, and cause disturbances in a common-
wealth.

LI

That there have been many questions and disputes
concerning the governments of princes; as, whether
they ought to govern by love, or fear? But the best
way of government is, and has alwayes been by just
rewards and punishments; for that state which
cannot tell how and when to punish and reward, does
not know how to govern, by reason all the world is
governed that way.

LII

That if the ancient Britains had had skill, according
to their courage, they might have conquered all the
world, as the Romans did.

LIII

That it would be very beneficial for great princes
to be sometimes present in courts of judicature, to
examine the causes of their poor subjects, and find
out the extortions and corruptions of magistrates
and officers; by which glorious act they would gain
much love and fame from the people.

Life of the Duke i6i

LIV

That it would be very advantagious for subjects,
and not in the least prejudicial to the soveraign, to
have a general register in every county, for the entry
of all manner of deeds, and conveyance of land
between party and party, and offices of record; for
by this means, whosoever buyes, would see clearly
what interest and title there is in any land he intends
to purchase, whereby he shall be assured that the sale
made to him is good and firm, and prevent many
lawsuits touching the title of his purchase.

LV

That there should be a limitation for law-suits;
and that the longest suit should not last above two
teanns, at length not above a year; which would
certainly be a great benefit to the subjects in general,
though not to lawyers; and though some politicians
object, that the more the people is busie about their
private affairs, the less time have they to make dis-
turbance in the publick ; yet this is but a weak argu-
ment, since law-suits are as apt to breed factions, as
any thing else; for they bring people into poverty,
that they know not how to live, which must of neces-
sity breed discontent, and put them upon ill designs.

LVI

That power, for the most part, does more then
wisdom; for fools with power, seem wise; whereas
wise men, without power, seem fools; and this is the
reason that the world takes power for wisdom; and
the want of power for foolishness.

F

1 62 The Duchess of Newcastle

LVII

That a valiant man will not refuse an honourable
duel; nor a wise man fight upon a fool's quarrel.

LVIII

That men are apt to find fault with each other's
actions; believing they prove themselves wise in
finding fault with their neighbours.

LIX

That a wise man will draw several occasions to
the point of his design, as a burning-glass doth the
several beams of the sun.

LX

That although actions may be prudently designed,
and valiantly performed; yet none can warrant the
issue; for fortune is more powerful than prudence,
and had Caesar not been fortunate, his valour and
prudence would never have gained him so much
applause.

LXI

That ill fortune makes wise and honest men seem
fools and knaves; but good fortune makes fools and
knaves seem wise and honest men.

LXII

That ill fortune doth oftener succeed good, then
good fortune succeeds ill; for those that have ill
fortune don ot so easily recover it, as those that have
good fortune are apt to lose it.

Life of the Duke 163

LXIII

That he had observed, that seldom any person
did laugh, but it was at the follies or misfortunes of
of other men ; by which we may judge of their good
natures.

LXIV

I have heard My Lord say, that when he was in
banishment, he had nothing left him, but a clear
conscience, by which he had and did still conquer
all the armies of misfortunes that ever seized upon
him.

LXV

Also I have heard him say, that he was never
beholding to Lady Fortune; for he had suffered on
both sides, although he never was but on one side.

LXVI

I have heard him say, that his father one time,
upon some discourse of expences, should tell him, it
was hut just that Everyman should have his time.

LXVII

I have heard My Lord say, that bold soliciting and
intruding men, shall gain more by their importunate
petitions, then modest honest men shall get by silence
(as being loath to offend, or be too troublesome) both
in the manner and matter of their requests : the reason
is, said he, that great princes will rather grant some-
times an unreasonable suit, then be tired with fre-
quent petitions, and hindered from their ordinary
pleasures; and when I asked My Lord, whether the

1 64 The Duchess of Newcastle

grants of such importunate suits were fitly and
properly placed? He answered, not so well as those
that are placed upon due consideration, and upon
trial and proof.

LXVIII

I have heard My Lord say, that it is a great error,
and weak policy in a state, to advance their enemies,
and endeavour to make them friends by bribing them
with honours and offices, saying, they are shrewd men,
and may do the state much hurt: and on the other
side, to neglect their friends, and those that have done
them great service, saying, they are honest men, and
mean the state no harm : for this kind of policy comes
from the heathen, who prayed to the devil, and not to
God, by reason they supposed God to be good and
would hurt no creature ; but the devil they flattered
and worshipped out of fear, lest he should hurt them :
but by this foolish policy, said he, they most com-
monly encrease their enemies, and lose their friends;
for first, it teaches men to observe that the onely way
to preferment, is to be against the state or govern-
ment: next, since all that are factious cannot be
rewarded or preferred, by reason a state hath more
subjects, then rewards or preferments, there must
of necessity be numerous enemies; for when their
hopes of reward fail them, they grow more factious
and inveterate then ever they were at first: where-
fore the best policy in a state or government, said
My Lord, is to reward friends, and punish enemies,
and prefer the honest before the factious; and then
all will be real friends, and profer their honest service,
either out of pure love and loyalty, or in hopes of
advancement, seeing there is none but by serving the
state.

Life of the Duke 165

LXIX

I have heard him say several times, that his love
to his gracious master King Charles the Second, was
above the love he bore to his wife, children, and all
his posterity, nay to his own life: and when, since
his return into England, I answered him, that I
observed his gracious master did not love him so well
as he loved him ; he replied, that he cared not whether
His Majesty loved him again or not; for he was
resolved to love him.

LXX

I asking My Lord one time, what kind of fate it was,
that restored our gracious King, Charles the Second,
to his throne ? He answered, it was a blessed kind of
fate. I replied, that I had observed a perfect con-
trariety between the fortunes of His royal father, of
blessed memory, and him ; for as there was a division
amongst the generality of the people, in the reign of
King Charles the First, tending to his destruction; so
there was a general combination and agreement
between them in King Charles the Second his restaura-
tion ; and as there was a general malice amongst the
people against the father to depose him; so there
was a general love for the son to enthrone him. My
Lord answered, I had observed something, but not
all; for, said he, there was a necessity for the people
to desire and restore King Charles the Second; but
there was no necessity to murder King Charles the
First. For the kingdom being through so many
alterations and changes of government, divided into
several factions and parties, was at last hurried into
such a confusion, that it was impossible in that
manner to subsist, or hold out any longer; which

1 66 The Duchess of Newcastle

confusion having opened the people's eyes, the gener-
aUty being tyred with the evil effects and conse-
quences of their unsetled governments under unjust
usurpers, and frightened with the apprehension of
future dangers, began to call to mind the happy
times, when in an uninterrupted peace they enjoyed
their own, under the happy reign of their lawful
so veraigns ; and hereupon with an unanimous consent
recalled and restored our now gracious King; which,
although it was opposed by some factious parties, yet
the generality of the people outweighed the rest;
neither was the royal party wanting in their endea-
vours.

LXXI

Asking My Lord one time, whether it was easie or
difficult to govern a state or kingdom ? He answered
me, that most states were governed by secret policy,
and so with diflftculty; for those that govern, are (at
least, should be) wiser then the state or common-
wealth they govern. I replied, that in my opinion, a
state was easily governed, if their government was
like unto God's; that is to say, if governours did
reward and punish according to the desert. My Lord
answered, I said well ; but he added, the follies of the
people are many times too hard for the prudence of
the go vernour ; like as the sins of men work more evil
effects in them, then the grace of God works good;
for if this were not, there would be more good then
bad, which, alas, experience proves otherwise.

LXXII

Some gentlemen making a complaint to My Lord,
that some he employed in His Majesty's affairs, were
too hasty and overbusie. My Lord told them, that he

Life of the Duke 167

would rather chuse such persons for His Majesties
service as were over-active, then such that would be
fuller of questions then actions. The same he would
do for his own particular affairs.

LXXIII

Some condemning My Lord for having Roman
Catholicks and Scots in his army; he answered them,
that he did not examine their opinions in rehgion,
but looked more upon their honesty and duty; for
certainly there were honest men and loyal subjects
amongst Roman Cathohcks, as well as Protestants;
and amongst Scots as well as EngHsh. Nevertheless,
My Lord, as he was for the King, so he was also for the
Orthodox Church of England, as sufficiently appears
by the care he took in ordering the Church-govern-
ment, mentioned in the history. To which purpose,
when My Lord was walking one time with some of
his officers in the church at Durham, and wondered
at the greatness and strength of the pillars that
supported that structure; my brother. Sir Charles
Lucas, who was then with him, told My Lord, that
he must confess, those pillars were very great, and of
a vast strength; but said he, your Lordship is a far
greater pillar of the Church then all these: which
certainly was also a real truth, and would have more
evidently appeared, had Fortune favoured My Lord
more then she did.

LXXIV

My Lord being in banishment, I told him, that he
was happy in his misfortunes, for he was not subject
to any state or prince. To which he jestingly answered,
that as he was subject to no prince, so he was a prince
of no subjects.

1 68 The Duchess of Newcastle

LXXV

In some discourse which I had with My Lord
concerning princes and their subjects; I declared
that I had observed great princes were not like the
sun, which sends forth out of it self rays of light, and
beams of heat ; effects that did both glorifie the sun,
and nourish and comfort sublunary creatures; but
their glory and splendor proceeded rather from the
ceremony which they received from their subjects.
To which My Lord answered, that subjects were so
far from giving splendor to their princes, that all
the honours and titles, in which consists the chief
splendor of a subject, were principally derived from
them; for, said he, were there no princes, there would
be none to confer honours and titles upon them.

LXXVI

My Lord entertaining one time some gentlemen with
a merry discourse, told them that he would not keep
them company except they had done and suffered
as much for their king and country as he had. They
answered, that they had not a power answerable to
My Lord's. M}^ Lord replied, they should do their
endeavour according to their abilities : No, said they,
if we did, we should be like your self, lose all, and get
but little for our uains.

LXXVII

I being much grieved that My Lord for his loyalty
and honest service had so many enemies, used some-
times to speak somewhat sharply of them; but he
gently reproving me, said, / should do like experienced
seamen, and as they either turn their sails with the wind.

Life of the Duke 169

or take them down ; so should I either comply with time,
or abate my passion.

LXXVIII

A soldier's wife, whose husband had been slain in
My Lord's army, came one time to beg some relief
of My Lord; who told her, that he was not able to
relieve all that had been loyal to His Majesty; for
said he my losses are so many, that if I should give
away the remainder of my estate, my wife and
children would have nothing to live on : she answered,
that His Majesties enemies were preferred to great
honours, and had much wealth: Then it is a sign
(replied My Lord) that your husband and I were honest
men.

LXXIX

A friend of My Lord's, complaining that he had
done the State much service, but received little
reward for it ; My Lord answered him, that States did
not usually reward past services ; but if he could do
some present service, he might perhaps get some-
thing ; but (said he) those men are wisest that will be
paid before-hand.

LXXX

I observing that in the late civil warrs, many were
desirous to be employed in States affairs, and at the
noise of warr, endeavoured to be commanders, though
but of small parties, asked My Lord the reason thereof,
and what advantage they could make by their employ-
ments? My Lord smilingly answered, that for the
generality, he knew not what they could get, but
danger, loss and labour for their pains. Then I asked
him, whether generals of great armies were ever

F2

170 The Duchess of Newcastle

enriched by their heroick exploits, and great victories ?
My Lord answered, that ordinary commanders gained
more, and were better rewarded then great generals.
To which I added, that I had observed the same in
histories, namely, that men of great merit and power,
had not onely no rewards, but were either found fault
withall, or laid aside when they had no more business
or employment for them ; and that I could not con-
ceive any reason for it, but that states were afraid of
their power: My Lord answered, the reason was,
that it was far more easie to reward under-ofiicers,
then great commanders.

LXXXI

My Lord having since the return from his banish-
ment, set up a race of horses, instead of those he lost
by the warrs, uses often to ride through his park to
see his breed. One time it chanced when he went
thorough it, that he espied some labouring-men
sawing of woods that were blown down by the wind,
for some particular uses ; at which My Lord turning
to his attendants, said, that he had been at that work
a great part of his life. They not knowing what My
Lord meant, but thinking he jested; I speak very
seriously (added he) and not in jest ; for you see that
this tree which is blown down by the wind, although
it was sound and strong, yet it could not withstand
its force ; and now it is down, it must be cut in pieces,
and made serviceable for several uses ; whereof some
will serve for building, some for paling, some for
firing, etc. In the Uke manner, said he, have I been
cut down by the Lady Fortune ; and being not able
to resist so powerful a princess, I have been forced to
make the best use of my misfortunes, as the chips of
my estate.

Life of the Duke 171

LXXXII

My Lord discoursing one time with some of his
friends, of judging of other men's natures, dispositions
and actions ; and some observing that men could not
possibly know or judge of them, the events of men's
actions faUing out oftentimes contrary to their inten-
tions; so that where they hit once, they failed twenty
times in their judgments. My Lord answered, that
his judgment in that point seldom did miss, although
he thought it weaker than theirs : the reason is, said
he, because I judge most men to be Uke my self; that
is to say, fools ; when as you do judge them all accord-
ing to your self, that is, wise men ; and since there are
more fools in the world then wise men, I may sooner
guess right then you : for though my judgment roves
at random, yet it can never miss of errors; which
yours will never do, except you can dive into other
men's foUies by the length of your own line, and found
their bottom by the weight of your own plummet, for
the depth of folly is beyond the line of wisdom.

Besides, said he, you believe that other men would
do as you would have them, or as you would do to
them, wherein you are mistaken, for most men do the
contrary. In short, folly is bottomless, and hath no
end; but wisdom hath bounds to all her designs,
otherwise she would never compass them.

LXXXIII

My Lord discoursing some time with a learned
doctor of divinity concerning Faith, said, that in his
opinion, the wisest way for a man was to have as
little faith as he could for this world, and as much as
he could for the next world.

172 The Duchess of Newcastle

LXXXIV

In some discourse with My Lord, I told him that
I did speak sharpest to those I loved best. To which
he jestingly answered, that if so, then he would not
have me love him best.

LXXXV

After My Lord's return from a long banishment,
v/hen he had been in the countrey some time, and
endeavoured to pick up some gleanings of his ruined
estate; it chanced that the widow of Charles Lord
Mansfield, My Lord's eldest son, afterwards Duchess
of Richmond, to whom the said Lord of Mansfield had
made a joynture of 2000/. a year, died not long after
her second marriage; for whose death, though My
Lord was heartily sorry, and would willingly have
lost the said money, had it been able to save her life ;
yet discoursing one time merrily with his friends,
was pleased to say, that though his earthly king and
master seemed to have forgot him, yet the King of
Heaven had remembered him, for he had given him
2000/. a year.

SOME FEW NOTES OF THE
AUTHORESSE

It was far more diflftcult in the late civil wars, for
My Lord to raise an army for His Majesties service,
then it was for the Parliament to raise an army against
His Majesty: not onely because the Parliament were
many, and My Lord but one single person; but by
reason a kingly or monarchical government was then
generally disliked, and most part of the kingdom
proved rebellious, and assisted the ParHament either
with their purses or persons, or both; when as the
army which My Lord raised for the defence and
maintenance of the King, and his rights, was raised
most upon his own and his friends' interest : for it is
frequently seen and known by woful experience, that
rebellious and factious parties do more suddenly and
numerously flock together to act a mischievous design,
then loyal and honest men to assist or maintain a just
cause ; and certainly 'tis much to be lamented,, that
evil men should be more industrious and prosperous
then good, and that the wicked should have a more
desperate courage, then the virtuous, an active valour.

II

I have observed, that many by flattering poets
have been compared to Caesar, without desert; but
this I dare freely and without flattery ^say of My Lord,
that though he had not Caesar's fortune, yet he wanted

173

174 The Duchess of Newcastle

not Caesar's courage, nor his prudence, nor his good
nature, nor his wit; nay, in some particulars he did
more then Caesar ever did; for though Caesar had a
great army, yet he was first set out by the state or
senators of Rome, who were masters almost of all
the world; when as My Lord raised his army (as
before is mentioned) most upon his own interest (he
having many friends and kindred in the northern
parts) at such a time when his gracious king and
soveraign was then not master of his own kingdoms,
he being overpowered by his rebellious subjects.

Ill

I have observed, that my noble Lord has always
had an aversion to that kind of policy, that now is
commonly practised in the world, which in plain
tearms is dissembUng, flattery and cheating, under
the cover of honesty, love and kindness : but I have
heard him say, that the best poHcy is to act justly,
honestly and wisely, and to speak truly; and that
the old proverb is true. To he wise is to be honest : for,
said he, that man of what condition, quality or profes-
sion soever, that is once found out to deceive either in
words or actions, shall never be trusted again by wise
and honest men. But, said he, a wise man is not bound
to take notice of all dissemblers, and their cheating
actions, if they do not concern him ; nay, even of those
he would not always take notice, but chuse his time;
for the chief part of a wise man is to time business well,
and to do it without partiality and passion. But,
said he, the folly of the world is so great, that one
honest and wise man may be overpowered by many
knaves and fools; and if so, then the onely benefit of
a wise man consists in the satisfaction he finds by
his honest and wise actions, and that he has done what

Life of the Duke 175

in conscience, honour and duty he ought to do; and
all successors of such worthy persons ought to be
more satisfied in the worth and merit of their pre-
decessours, then in their title and riches.

IV

I have heard that some noble gentleman (who was
servant to His Highness then Prince of Wales, our
now gracious soveraign, when My Lord was gover-
nour) should relate, that whensoever My Lord by his
prudent inspection and foresight did foretell what
would come to pass hereafter; it seemed so im-
probable to him, that both himself and some others
believed My Lord spoke extravagantly: but some
few years after, his predictions proved true, and the
event did confirm what his prudence had observed.

I have heard, that in our late civil warres there
were many petty skirmishes, and fortifications of
weak and inconsiderable houses, where some small
parties would be shooting and pottering at each other;
an action more proper for bandites or thieves, then
stout and valiant soldiers ; for I have heard My Lord
say, that such small parties divide the body of an
army, and by that means weaken it; whereas the
business might be much easier decided in one or two
battels, with less ruine both to the country and army:
for I have heard My Lord say, that as it is dangerous
to divide a limb from the body; so it is also dangerous
to divide armies or navies in time of warr; and there
are often more men lost in such petty skirmishes,
then in set-battels, by reason those happen almost
every day, nay every hour in several places.

176 The Duchess of Newcastle

VI

Many in our late civil-warres, had more title then
power; for though they were generals, or chief com-
manders, yet their forces were more like a brigade,
then a well-formed army; and their actions were
accordingly, not set-battels, but petty skirmishes
between small parties ; for there were no great battels
fought, but by My Lord's army, his being the greatest
and best-formed army which His Majesty had.

VII

Although I have observed, that it is a usual custom
of the world, to glorifie the present power and good
fortune, and vilifie ill fortune and low conditions; yet
I never heard that my noble Lord was ever neglected
by the generality; but was on the contrary, alwayes
esteemed and praised by all ; for he is truly an honest
and honourable man, and one that may be relied upon
both for trust and truth.

VIII

I have observed, that many instead of great actions,
make onely a great noise, and like shallow fords, or
empty bladders, sound most when there is least in
them; which expresses a flattering partiality, rather
then honesty and truth; for truth and honesty Ive
at the bottom; and have more action then shew.

IX

I have observed, that good fortune adds fame to
mean actions, when as ill fortune darkens the splendor
of the most meritorious ; for mean persons plyed with
good fortune, are more famous then noble persons that
are shadowed or darkened with ill fortune; so that
fortune, for the most part, is fame's champion.

Life of the Duke 177

X

I observe, that as it would be a grief to covetous
and miserable persons, to be rewarded with honour,
rather then with wealth, because they love wealth,
before honour and fame; so on the other side, noble,
heroick and meritorious persons, prefer honour and
fame before wealth; well knowing, that as infamy
is the greatest punishment of unworthiness, so fame
and honour is the best reward of worth and merit.

XI

I observe, that spleen and malice, especially in this
age, is grown to that height, that none will endure
the praise of any body besides themselves; nay,
theyl rather praise the wicked then the good; the
coward rather then the vaHant; the miserable then
the generous; the traytor, then the loyal: which
makes wise men meddle as little with the affairs of
the world as ever they can.

XII

I have observed, as well as former ages have done,
that meritorious persons, for their noble actions, most
commonly get envy and reproach, instead of praise
and reward; unless their fortunes be above envy
as Caesar's and Alexander's were ; but had these two
worthies been as unfortunate as they were fortunate,
they would have been as much vilified, as they are
glorified.

XIII

I have observed, that it is more easie to talk, then
to act; to forget, then to remember; to punish, then
to reward ; and more common to prefer flattery before
truth, interest before justice, and present service
before past.

178 The Duchess of Newcastle

XIV

I have observed, that many old proverbs are very
true, and amongst the rest, this : it is better to be at
the latter end of a feast, then at the beginning of a
fray ; for most commonly, those that are in the begin-
ning of a fray, get but little of the feast, and those
that have undergone the greatest dangers, have least
of the spoils.

XV

I have observed, that favours of great princes make
men often thought meritorious; whereas without
them they would be esteemed but as ordinary persons.

XVI

I observe, that in other kingdoms or countries, to
be the chief governour of a province, is not onely a
place of honour, but much profit; for they have a
great revenue to themselves; whereas in England,
the lieutenancy of a county is barely a title of honour,
without profit ; except it be the lieutenancy or govern-
ment of the kingdom of Ireland ; especially since the
late Earl of Staftord enjoyed that dignity, who setled
that kingdom very wisely both for militia and trade.

XVII

I have observed, that those that meddle least in
wars, whether civil or foreign, are not onely most safe
and free from danger, but most secure from losses;
and though heroick persons esteem fame before life,
yet many there are, that think the wisest way is to
be a spectator, rather then an actor, unless they be
necessitated to it ; for it is better, say they, to sit on
the stool of quiet, then in the chair of troublesome
business.

MEMOIRS OF MARGARET, DUCHESS
OF NEWCASTLE

A TRUE RELATION OF MY BIRTH,
BREEDING, AND LIFE

MEMOIRS OF MARGARET, DUCHESS
OF NEWCASTLE

AN EPISTLE

I HAVE heard, that some should say my wit seemed
as if it would overpower my brain, especially when
it works upon philosophical opinions. I am obhged
to them for judging my wit stronger than my brain :
but I should be sorry they should think my wit
stronger than my reason: but I must tell them, that
my brain is stronger than my wit, and that my reason
is as strong as the effeminate sex requires.

Again, I have heard some should say, that my
writings are none of my own, because when some
have visited me, though seldome I receive visits, they
have not heard me speak of them, or repeat some of
the chapters or verses: but I believe, if they should
desire the best orator to repeat his orations or sermons
that he hath spoke ex tempore, he shall not do it,
although but an hour's discourse : for I believe, Tully,
who I have heard was an eloquent orator, yet could
not repeat them over to his auditory. The same is in
writers; for I do believe. Homer, as great and excel-
lent poet, as it is said he was, could not repeat his
poems by heart; nor Virgil, nor Ovid, or any other,
nor Euclyd repeat his demonstrations, numerations,
and the like, without book; nor Aristotle, who, I
have heard, was a great philosopher, tlie explanation

i8i

1 82 The Duchess of Newcastle

of his opinions by heart; for I have heard that his
memory failed in his writing, for that he hath some-
times contradicted himself: and My Lord, who hath
written hundreds of verses, songs and theams, could
not repeat three by heart ; and I have heard him say,
that after he hath writ them, he doth so little remem-
ber any part in them, that when they have lain a
short time by, and then read them over, they are new
to him : but he is not so forgetful of other things, for
he hath an extraordinary memory for received curte-
sies, or to do any timely good or services, not onely to
friends, but to strangers. Also, he hath an excellent
memory concerning the general actions of and in the
world; but certainly they that remember their own
wit least, have the most of it; for there is an old
saying, and surely true, that the best wits have the
worst memory, I mean, wit-memory; for great
memories are like standing ponds that are made with
rain; so that memory is nothing but the showers of
other men's wits ; and these brains are muddy that
have not running springs of their own, that issue out
still fresh and new.

Indeed it's against Nature, for natural wits to
remember, for it is impossible the brain should retain
and create ; and we see in Nature, death makes way
for life ; for if there were no death, there would be no
new life, or lives.

But say I were so witless I could repeat some of
my works, I do think it would seem self-conceitedness
to mention them, but since that report, I have spoken
more of them than otherwise I should have done,
though truly I condemn myself, for it is an indiscre-
tion, although I was forced to that indiscretion, and I
repent it, both for the disfiguring of my works, by
pulling out a piece here, and a piece there, according

Memoirs 183

as my memory could catch hold: also, for troubling,
or rather vexing the hearers with such discourses they
delight not in.

Besides, it hath been a long and a true observation
that every one had rather speak than listen to what
another sayes; insomuch as for the most part all
mankinde run from company to company, not to
learn, but to talk, and like bells, their tongues as the
clappers keep a jangling noyse all at once, without
method or distinction.

But I hope my indiscretion in speaking of my works
to my hearers is not beyond a pardon, for I have not
spoke of them, nor parts in them, much, nor often,
nor to many, but to some particularly, as those I
thought did understand poetry, or natural philosophy,
or moral philosophy, though I fear not alwayes accord-
ing as their capacities lay; for I have observed, some
understand commonwealths, customes, lawes, or the
like; others, the distinguishments of passions, and
understand nothing of law; others, divinity, that
understand nothing of temporal government, and so
the like of many several studies ; and some may have
a rational capacity to most sciences, yet conceive
nothing of natural philosophy, as if the first matter,
or innated matter, or motions, or figures, or forms,
or infinites, or spirits or essences, or the like: nay,
for the most part they conceive little further than an
almanack to know the time by, of which I am ignorant,
for I understand it not. And for poetry, most laugh
at it as a ridiculous thing, especially grave statists,
severe moralists, zealous priesthood, wrangling law-
yers, covetous hourders, or purloiners, or those that
have mechanick natures, and many more, which for
the most part account poetry a toy, and condemn it
for a vanity, an idle imployment; nor have they so

1 84 The Duchess of Newcastle

much phancy of their own, as to conceive the poetical
phancies of others; for if they did, they must needs
love poetry : for poetry is so powerfull, and hath such
an attractive beauty, that those that can but view her
perfectly, could not but be enamoured, her charms
do so force affection. But surely those that delight
not in poetry or musick, have no divine souls, nor
harmonious thoughts.

But by those weak observations I have made, I
perceive, that as most men have particular under-
standings, capacities, or ingenuities, and not a general;
so in their discourses, some can speak eloquently, and
not learnedly; others learnedly, and not eloquently;
some wittily and neither learned or eloquent; and
some will speak neither learnedly, eloquently, wittily,
or rationally. Likewise some can speak well, but 'tis
but for a time, some a longer, and some a shorter time,
like several sized candles, are longer or shorter ere
they come to a snuff, where sometimes some objects
or conceits, unexpected objections or questions, or
the like, do prove as a small coal got into the tallow
of their wit, which makes it bleer out sooner than
otherwise it would do.

Also, some will speak wisely upon some subjects,
and foolishly upon others.

Likewise, some will speak well as it were by chance ;
others in one discourse speak mixtly, now rational,
then nonsently, at least weakly or obstructedly. But
they are great masters of speech that speak clearly,
as I may say, untangled, which can winde their words
from off their tongue without a snarl or knot, and can
keep even sense, like an even thread, or can work that
thread of sense into a flourishing discourse, and they
have a quick wit that can play with, or on any sub-
ject, which doubtless some can do of those things

Memoirs 185

they never heard, saw, or thought on, but just when
they speak of it. And some have great capacities, as
may be perceived in their discourse: but yet their
speech is Hke those that are lame, which limp and
halt, although the ground whereon they go is even,
smooth, and firm. But some have such large capaci-
ties, elevated pliancies, illuminated souls, and volu-
bility of speech, that they can conceive, create,
enlighten and deliver with that abundance, curiosity,
facility and pleasure, as their conversible company
is a heaven, where all worldly delights reside.

But to return to the ground of this epistle. I desire
all my readers and acquaintance to believe, though
my words run stumbling out of my mouth, and my
pen draws roughly on my paper, yet my thoughts
move regular in my brain, for the several tracks or
paths that contemplation hath made on my brain,
which paths or tracks are the several wayes my
thoughts move in are much smoother than the tongue
in my mouth, from whence words flow, or the paper
on which my pen writes: for I have not spoke so
much as I have writ, nor writ so much as I have
thought; for I must tell my readers, that Nature,
which is the best and curiosest worker, hath paved
my brain smoother than custome hath oiled my
tongue, or variety hath polished my senses, or art
hath beaten the paper whereon I write; for my
phancy is quicker than the pen with which I write,
insomuch as it is many times lost through the slow-
ness of my hand, and yet I write so fast, as I stay not
so long as to make perfect letters.

But if they will not believe my books are my own,
let them search the author or authoress: but I am
very confident that they will do like Drake, who
went so far about, untill he came to the place he first

I 86 The Duchess of Newcastle

set out at. But for the sake of after-ages, which I hope
will be more just to me than the present I will write
the true relation of my birth, breeding, and to this
part of my life, not regarding carping tongues, or
malicious censurers, for I despise them.

MARGARET NEWCASTLE.

MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESS

My father was a gentleman, which title is grounded
and given by merit, not b}^ princes; and 'tis the act
of time, not favour: and though my father was not
a peer of the realm, yet there were few peers who
had much greater estates, or lived more noble there-
with: yet at that time great titles were to be sold,
and not at so high rates, but that his estate might
have easily purchased, and was prest for to take;
but my father did not esteem titles, unless they were
gained by heroick actions; and the kingdome being
in a happy peace with all other nations, and in itself
being governed by a wise king. King James, there
was no emplo3nnents for heroick spirits ; and towards
the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, as soon as
he came to man's estate, he unfortunately fortunately
killed one Mr. Brooks in a single due] ; for my father
by the laws of honour could do no less then call him
to the field, to question him for an injury he did him,
where their swords were to dispute, and one or both
of their lives to decide the argument, wherein my
father had the better; and though my father by
honour challenged him, with valour fought him, and
in justice killed him, yet he suffered more then any
person of quality usually doth in cases of honour; for
though the laws be rigorous, yet the present princes
most commonly are gratious in those misfortunes,
especially to the injured: but my father found it not,
for his exile was from the time of his misfortunes to
Queen Elizabeth's death ; for the Lord Cobham being

187

1 88 The Duchess of Newcastle

then a great man with Queen EHzabeth, and this
gentleman, Mr. Brooks, a kind of a favourite, and as
I take it brother to the then L. Cobham, which
made Queen EHzabeth so severe, not to pardon him :
but King James of blessed memory graciously gave
him his pardon, and leave to return home to his native
country, wherein he lived happily, and died peace-
ably, leaving a wife and eight children, three sons,
and five daughters, I being the youngest child he had,
and an infant when he died.

As for my breeding, it was according to my birth,
and the nature of my sex; for my birth was not lost
in my breeding, for as my sisters was or had been
bred, so was I in plenty, or rather with superfluity;
likewise we were bred virtuously, modestly, civilly,
honourably, and on honest principles : as for plenty,
we had not only for necessity, conveniency, and
decency, but for delight and pleasure to a superfluity;
'tis true we did not riot, but we lived orderly; for
riot, even in kings' courts and princes' palaces, brings
ruin without content or pleasure, when order in less
fortunes shall live more plentifully and deliciously
then princes, that live in a hurlieburlie, as I may
terme it, in which they are seldom well served, for
disorder obstructs; besides, it doth disgust life,
distract the appetites, and yield no true relish to the
sences; for pleasure, delight, peace, and felicitie, live
in method and temperance.

As for our garments, my mother did not only
delight to see us neat and cleanly, fine and gay, rich
and costly; maintaining us to the height of her
estate but not beyond it; for we were so far from
being in debt, before these warrs, as we were rather
beforehand with the world; buying all with ready
money, not on the score; for although after my

Memoirs 189

father's death the estate was divided between my
mother and her sonns, paying such a sum of money
for portions to her daughters, either at the day of
their marriage, or when they should come to age;
yet by reason she and her children agreed with a
mutual consent, all their affairs were managed so
well, as she lived not in a much lower condition than
when my father lived. 'Tis true, my mother might
have increast her daughters' portions by a thrifty
sparing, yet she chose to bestow it on our breeding,
honest pleasures, and harmless delights, out of an
opinion, that if she bred us with needy necessitie,
it might chance to create in us sharking quallities,
mean thoughts, and base actions, which she knew
my father as well as herself did abhor: likewise we
were bred tenderly, for my mother naturally did
strive to please and delight her children, not to cross
or torment them, terrifying them with threats, or
lashing them with slavish whips. But instead of threats
reason was used to persuade us, and instead of lashes,
the deformities of vice were discovered, and the graces
and virtues were presented unto us, also we were bred
with respectful attendance, every one being severall}^
waited upon, and all her servants in generall used the
same respect to her children (even those that were
very young) as they did to herself; for she suffered
not her servants, either to be rude before us, or to
domineer over us, which all vulgar servants are apt,
and ofttimes which some have leave to do; likewise
she never suffered the vulgar serving-men to be in
the nursery among the nursemaids, lest their rude
love-making might do unseemly actions, or speak
unhandsome words in the presence of her children,
knowing that youth is apt to take infection by ill
examples, having not the reason of ^distinguishing

I go The Duchess of Newcastle

good from bad, neither were we suffered to have any
f amiliaritie with the vulgar servants, or conversation :
yet caused us to demean our selves with an humble
civillity towards them, as they with a dutifull respect
to us, not because they were servants were we so
reserved ; for many noble persons are forced to serve
through necessitie ; but by reason the vulgar sort of
servants are as ill bred as meanly born, giving children
ill examples, and worse counsel.

As for tutors, although we had for all sortsof vertues,
as singing, dancing, playing on musick, reading,
writing, working, and the like, yet we were not kept
strictly thereto, they were rather for formality then
benefit, for my mother cared not so much for our
dancing and fidling, singing and prating of severall
languages, as that we should be bred virtuously,
modestly, civiUy, honourably, and on honest prin-
ciples.

As for my brothers, of which I had three, I know
not how they were bred. First, they were bred when I
was not capable to observe, or before I was born;
hkewise the breeding of men were after different
manner of ways from those of women; but this I
know, that they loved virtue, endeavoured merit,
practised justice, and spoke truth; they were con-
stantly loyal, and truly vaHant. Two of my three
brothers were excellent soldiers, and martial dis-
cipliners, being practised therein, for though they
might have lived upon their own estates very honour-
ably, yet they rather chose to serve in the wars under
the states of Holland, than to live idly at home in
peace : my brother. Sir Thomas Lucas, there having
a troop of horse ; my brother, the youngest Sir Charls
Lucas serving therein: but he served the states not
long, for after he had been at the siege and taking of

Memoirs 191

some towns, he returned home again ; and though he
had the less experience, yet he was Hke to have proved
the better soldier, if better could have been, for natur-
ally he had a practick genius to the warlike arts, or
arts of war, as natural poets have to poetry : but his
hfe was cut off before he could arrive to the true per-
fection thereof. Yet he writ " A Treatise of the Arts
in War," but by reason it was in characters, and the
key thereof lost, we cannot as yet understand any
thing therein, at least not so as to divulge it. My
other brother, the Lord Lucas, who was heir to my
father's estate, and as it were the father to take care
of us all, is not less valiant then they were, although
his skill in the discipline of war was not so much,
being not bred therein, yet he had more skill in the
use of the sword and is more learned in other arts and
sciences then they were, he being a great scholar, by
reason he is given much to studious contemplation.

Their practice was, when they met together, to
exercise themselves with fencing, wrestling, shooting,
and such like exercises, for I observed they did sel-
dome hawk or hunt, and very seldom or never dance,
or play on musick, saying it was too effeminate for
masculine spirits. Neither had they skill, or did use
to play, for ought I could hear, at cards or dice, or
the hke games, nor given to any vice, as I did know,
unless to love a mistress were a crime, not that I
know any they had, but what report did say, and
usually reports are false, at least exceed the truth.

As for the pastimes of my sisters when they were
in the country, it was to reade, work, walk, and
discourse with each other; for though two of my
three brothers were married, my brother the Lord
Lucas to a virtuous and beautiful lady, daughter to
Sir Christopher Nevil, son to the Lord Abergavenny^

192 The Duchess of Newcastle

and my brother Sir Thomas Lucas to a virtuous lady
of an ancient family, one Sir John Byron's daughter;
likewise, three of my four sisters, one married Sir
Peter Killegrew, the other Sir WilHam Walter, the
third Sir Edmund Pye, the fourth as yet unmarried,
yet most of them lived with my mother, especially
when she was at her country-house, living most
commonly at London half the year, which is the
metropolitan city of England. But when they were
at London, they were dispersed into several houses
of their own, yet for the most part they met every
day, feasting each other like Job's children. But this
unnatural war came like a whirlwind, which felled
down their houses, where some in the wars were
crusht to death, as my youngest brother Sir Charls
Lucas, and my brother Sir Thomas Lucas ; and though
my brother Sir Thomas Lucas died not immediately
of his wounds, yet a wound he received on his head
in Ireland shortened his life.

But to rehearse their recreations. Their customs
were in winter time to go sometimes to plays, or to
ride in their coaches about the streets to see the
concourse and recourse of people; and in the spring
time to visit the Spring-garden, Hide-park, and the
like places ; and sometimes they would have musick,
and sup in barges upon the water; these harmless
recreations they would pass their time away with.
For I observed, they did seldom make visits, nor never
went abroad with strangers in their company, but
onely themselves in a flock together agreeing so well,
that there seemed but one minde amongst them:
and not onely my own brothers and sisters agreed so,
but my brothers and sisters in law, and their children,
although but young, had the like agreeable natures
and affectionable dispositions; for to my best

Memoirs 193

remembrance I do not know that ever they did fall
out, or had any angry or unkind disputes. Likewise,
I did observe, that my sisters were so far from ming-
ling themselves with any other company, that they
had no familiar conversation or intimate acquaint-
ance with the families to which each other were
linkt to by marriage, the family of the one being as
great strangers to the rest of my brothers and sisters,
as the family of the other.

But sometime after this war began, I knew not
how they lived; for though most of them were in
Oxford, wherein the King was, yet after the Queen
went from Oxford, and so out of Enlgand, I was
parted from them ; for when the Queen was in Oxford,
I had a great desire to be one of her maids of honour,
hearing the Queen had not the same number she was
used to have, whereupon I wooed and won my mother
to let me go; for my mother, being fond of all her
children, was desirous to please them, which majde
her consent to my request. But my brothers and
sisters seemed not very well pleased, by reason I had
never been from home, nor seldome out of their sight;
for though they knew I would not behave my self to
their, or my own dishonour, yet they thought I might
to my disadvantage, being unexperienced in the
world, which indeed I did, for I was so bashfull when
I was out of my mother's, brothers' and sisters' sight,
whose presence used to give me confidence, thinking
I could not do amiss whilst any one of them were
by, for I knew they would gently reforai me if I did;
besides, I was ambitious they should approve of my
actions and behaviour, that when I was gone from
them, I was like one that had no foundation to stand,
or guide to direct me, which made me afraid, lest I
should wander with ignorance out 6i the waies of

G

194 '^he Duchess of Newcastle

honour, so that I knew not how to behave myself.
Besides, I had heard that the world was apt to lay
aspersions even on the innocent, for which I durst
neither look up with my eyes, nor speak, nor be any
way sociable, insomuch as I was thought a natural
fool; indeed I had not much wit. Yet I was not an
idiot, my wit was according to my years ; and though
I might have learnt more wit, and advanced my
understanding by living in a court, yet being dull,
fearfuU, and bashfull, I neither heeded what was
said or practiced, but just what belonged to my loyal
duty, and my own honest reputation; and indeed, I
was so afraid to dishonour my friends and family
by my indiscreet actions, that I rather chose to be
accounted a fool, then to be thought rude or wanton.
In truth, my bashfulness and fears made me repent
my going from home to see the world abroad, and
much I did desire to return to my mother again, or
to my sister Pye, with whom I often lived when she
was in London, and loved with a supernatural affec-
tion: but my mother advised me there to stay,
although I put her to more charges than if she had
kept me at home, and the more, by reason she and
my brothers were sequestered from their estates, and
plundered of all their goods. Yet she maintained me
so, that I was in a condition rather to lend then to
borrow, which courtiers usually are not, being always
necessitated by reason of great expences courts put
them to. But my mother said, it would be a disgrace
for me to return out of the court so soon after I was
placed; so I continued almost two years, until such
time as I was married from thence ; for My Lord the
Marquis of Newcastle did approve of those bashful
fears which many condemned, and would choose
such a wife as he might bring to his own humours,

Memoirs 195

and not such an one as was wedded to self-conceit, or
one that had been tempered to the humours of
another; for which he wooed me for his wife; and
though I did dread marriage, and shunned men's
companies as much as I could, yet I could not, nor
had not the power to refuse him, by reason my affec-
tions were fixed on him, and he was the onely person
I ever was in love with: neither was I ashamed to
own it, but gloried therein. For it was not amorous
love, I never was infected therewith, it is a disease,
or a passion, or both, I only know by relation, not
by experience; neither could title, wealth, power, or
person entice me to love. But my love was honest
and honourable, being placed upon merit, which
affection joyed at the fame of his worth, pleased ^vith
delight in his wit, proud of the respects he used to me,
and triumphing in the affections he prof est for me,
which affections he hath confirmed to me by a deed
of time, sealed by constancy, and assigned by an
unalterable decree of his promise; which makes me
happy in despight of Fortune's frowns. For though
misfortunes may and do oft dissolve base, wilde, loose,
and ungrounded affections, yet she hath no power of
those that are united either by merit, justice, grati-
tude, duty, fidelity, or the like ; and though my Lord
hath lost his estate, and banished out of his country
for his loyalty to his king and country, yet neither
despised poverty, nor pinching necessity could make
him break the bands of friendship, or weaken his
loyal duty to his king or country.

But not onely the family I am linkt to is ruined,
but the family from which I sprung, by these unhappy
wars, which ruine my mother lived to see, and then
died, having lived a widow many years, for she never
forgot my father so as to marry again. Indeed, he

196 The Duchess of Newcastle

remained so lively in her memory, and her grief was
so lasting, as she never mentioned his name, though
she spoke often of him, but love and grief caused tears
to flow, and tender sighs to rise, mourning in sad
complaints ; she made her house her cloyster, inclosing
herself as it were therein, for she seldom went abroad,
unless to church ; but these unhappy wars forced her
out, by reason she and her children were loyall to the
king ; for which they plundered her and my brothers
of all their goods, plate, jewels, money, corn, cattle,
and the like, cut down their woods, pulled down their
houses, and sequestered them from their lands and
livings; but in such misfortunes my mother was of an
heroick spirit, in suffering patiently where there is no
remedy, or to be industrious where she thought she
could help: she was of a grave behaviour, and had
such a magestic grandeur, as it were continually hung
about her, that it would strike a kind of an awe to the
beholders, and command respect from the rudest; I
mean the rudest of civilised people, I mean not such
barbarous people as plundered her, and used her
cruelly, for they would have pulled God out of Heaven,
had they had power, as they did royaltie out of his
throne : also her beauty was beyond the ruin of time,
for she had a well-favoured loveliness in her face, a
pleasing sweetness in her countenance, and a well-
tempered complexion, as neither too red nor too pale,
even to her dying hour, although in years, and by her
dying, one might think death was enamoured with
her, for he imbraced her in a sleep, and so gently,
as if he were afraid to hurt her: also she was an
affectionate mother, breeding her children with a
most industrious care, and tender love, and having
eight children, three sons and five daughters, there
was not any one crooked, or any ways deformed.

Memoirs 197

neither were they dwarfish, or of a giant-hke stature,
but every ways proportionable ; Ukewise well featured,
cleer complexions, brown haires, but some lighter
than others, sound teeth, sweet breaths, plain speeches,
tunable voices, I mean not so much to sing as in
speaking, as not stuttering, nor wharling in the throat,
or speaking through the nose, or hoarsly, unless they
had a cold, or squeakingly, which impediments many
have: neither were their voices of too low a strain,
or too high, but their notes and words were tuneable
and timely: I hope this truth will not offend my
readers, and lest they should think I am a partial
register, I dare not commend my sisters, as to say
they were handsome, although many would say they
were very handsome : but this I dare say, their beautie
if any they had, was not so lasting as my mother's,
time making suddener ruin in their faces than in hers ;
likewise my mother was a good mistriss to her ser-
vants, taking care of her servants in their sickness,
not sparing any cost she was able to bestow for their
recovery: neither did she exact more from them in
their health then what they with ease or rather Hke
pastime could do: she would freely pardon a fault,
and forget an injury, yet sometimes she would be
angry; but never with her children, the sight of them
would pacify her, neither would she be angry with
others, but when she had cause, as with negligent or
knavish servants, that would lavishly or unnecessarily
waste, or subtily and thievishly steal, and though she
would often complain that her family was too great
for her weak management, and often prest my brother
to take it upon him, yet I observe she took a pleasure,
and some little pride, in the governing thereof: she
was very skilful in leases, and setting of lands, and
court-keeping, ordering of stewards, and the like

198 The Duchess of Newcastle

affairs, also I observed, that my mother, nor brothers,
before these wars, had ever any law-suites, but what
an attorney dispatched in a term with small cost,
but if they had, it was more than I knew of. But, as
I said, my mother lived to see the ruin of her children,
in which was her ruin, and then dyed: my brother
Sir Thomas Lucas soon after, my brother Sir Charles
Lucas after him, being shot to death for his loyall
service, for he was most constantly loyal and courage-
ously active, indeed he had a superfluity of courage;
my eldest sister died sometime before my mother,
her death being, as I believe, hastened through grief
of her onely daughter, on which she doted, being
very pretty, sweet natured, and had an extraordinary
wit for her age. She dying of a consumption, my sister,
her mother, died some half a year after of the same
disease ; and though time is apt to waste remembrance
as a consumptive body, or to wear it out like a gar-
ment into raggs, or to moulder it into dust; yet I
find the naturall affections I have for my friends, are
beyond the length, strength, and power of time : for
I shall lament the loss so long as I live, also the loss
of My Lord's noble brother, which died not long after
I returned from England, he being then sick of an
ague, whose favours and my thankfulness, ingratitude
shall never disjoyne; for I will build his monument
of truth, though I cannot of marble, and hang my
tears and scutchions on his tombe. He was nobly
generous, wisely valliant, naturally civill, honestly
kind, truly loving, virtuously temperate ; his promise
was like a fixt decree, his words were destiny, his
life was holy, his disposition milde, his behaviour
courteous, his discourse pleasing, he had a ready wit
and a spacious knowledge, a settled judgment, a cleer
understanding, a rationall insight ; he was learned in

Memoirs 199

all arts and sciences, but especially in the mathe-
maticks, in which study he spent most part of his
time; and though his tongue preacht not moral
philosophy, yet his life taught it. Indeed he was such
a person, that he might have been a pattern for all
mankind to take : he loved My Lord his brother with
a doting affection, as My Lord did him, for whose
sake I suppose he was so nobly generous, carefully
kind, and respectfull to me : for I dare not challenge
his favours as to my self, having not merits to deserve
them, he was for a time the preserver of my life, for
after I was married some two or three years, My Lord
travelled out of France, from the city of Paris, in
which city he resided the time he was there, so went
into Holland, to a town called Rotterdam, in which
place he stayed some six months; from thence he
returned to Brabant, unto the city of Antwerp, which
city we past through, when we went into Holland,
and in that city My Lord settled himself and family,
choosing it for the most pleasantest, and quietest
place to retire himself and ruined fortunes in. But
after we had remained some time therein, we grew
extremely necessitated, tradesmen being there not
so rich as to trust My Lord for so much, or so long,
as those of France ; yet they were so civill, kind and
charitable, as to trust him, for as much as they were
able; but at last necessity inforced me to return
into England to seek for reliefe; for I hearing My
Lord's estate amongst the rest of many more estates
was to be sold, and that the wives of the owners
should have an allowance therefrom, it gave me hopes
I should receive a benefit thereby; so being accom-
panied with My Lord's only brother Sir Charles
Cavendish, who was commanded to return, to live
therein, or to lose his estate, which" estate he was

200 The Duchess of Newcastle

forced to* buy with a great composition before he
could enjoy any part thereof; so over I went, but
when I came there I found their hearts as hard as my
fortunes, and their natures as cruel as my miseries,
for they sold all My Lord's estate, which was a very
great one, and gave me not any part thereof, or any
allowance thereout, which few or no other was so
hardly dealt withall; indeed, I did not stand as a
beggar at the Parliament doore, for I never was at
the Parhamente House, nor stood I ever at the doore,
as I do know, or can remember, I am sure, not as a
petitioner, neither did I haunt the committees, for I
never was at any, as a petitioner, but one in my life,
which was called Gold-smiths'-hall, but I received
neither gold nor silver from them, only an absolute
refusall, I should have no share of My Lord's estate;
for my brother the Lord Lucas did claim in my behalf
such a part of My Lord's estate as wives had allowed
them, but they told him, that by reason I was married
since My Lord was made a delinquent, I could have
nothing, nor should have any thing, he being the
greatest traitor to the state, which was to be the most
loyall subject to his king and country. But I whisper-
ingly spoke to my brother to conduct me out of that
ungentlemanly place, so without speaking to them
one word good or bad, I returned to my lodgings, and
as that committee was the first, so was it the last, I
ever was at as a petitioner. 'Tis true I went some-
times to Drury House to inquire how the land was
sold, but no other ways, although some reported I
was at the Parliament House, and at this committee
and at that committee, and what I should say, and
how I was answered; but the customes of England
being changed as well as the laws, where women
become pleaders, attornies, petitioners and the like.

Memoirs 201

running about with their several causes, complaining
of their severall grievances, exclaiming against their
severall enemies, bragging of their severall favours
they receive from the powerfuU ; thus trafficking with
idle words bring in false reports and vain discourse;
for the truth is, our sex doth nothing but justle for
the preheminence of words, I mean not for speaking
well, but speaking much, as they do for the pre-
heminence of place, words rushing against words,
thwarting and crossing each other, and puUing with
reproches, striving to throw each other down with
disgrace, thinking to advance themselves thereby.
But if our sex would but well consider and rationally
ponder, they will perceive and finde, that it is neither
words nor place that can advance them, but worth
and merit: nor can words or place disgrace them,
but inconstancy and boldness: for an honest heart,
a noble soul, a chaste life, and a true speaking tongue,
is the throne, sceptre, crown, and footstoole, that
advances them to an honourable renown. I mean
not noble, virtuous, discreet, and worthy persons,
whom necessit}^ did enforce to submit, comply, and
follow their own suites, but such as had nothing to
lose, but made it their trade to solicite; but I dis-
pairingly being positively denied at Goldsmiths'
Hall, — besides I had a firm faith, or strong opinion,
that the pains was more than the gains, and being
unpractised in publick employments, unlearned in
their uncouth ways, ignorant of the humours and
dispositions of those persons to whom I was to address
my suit, and not knowing where the power lay, and
being not a good flatterer, I did not trouble myself or
petition my enemies. Besides I am naturally bashful,
not that I am ashamed of my minde or body, my
birth or breeding, my actions or fortunes, for my

G2

202 The Duchess of Newcastle

bashfulness is in my nature, not for any crime, and
though I have strived and reasoned with myself, yet
that which is inbred, I find is difficult to root out, but
I do not find that my bashfulness is concerned with
the qualities of the persons, but the number, for were
I to enter amongst a company of Lazarouses, I should
be as much out of countenance, as if they were all
Cesars or Alexanders, Cleopatras or Queen Didoes;
neither do I find my bashfulness riseth so often in
blushes, as contracts my spirits to a chill paleness,
but the best of it is, most commonl}^ it soon vanisheth
away, and many times before it can be perceived,
and the more foolish, or unworthy, I conceive the
company to be, the worse I am, and the best remedy
I ever found was, is to persuade myself that all those
persons I meet are wise and vertuous; the reason I
take to be is, that the wise and vertuous censure less,
excuse most, praise best, esteem rightly, judge justly,
behave themselves civilly, demeane themselves
respectfully, and speake modestly, when fools or
unworthy persons are apt to commit absurdities, as
to be bold, rude, uncivill both in words and actions,
forgetting or not well understanding themselves,
or the company they are with; and though I never
met such sorts of ill bred creatures, yet Naturally I
have such an aversion to such kinde of people, as I
am afraid to meet them, as children are afraid of
spirits, or those that are afraid to see or meet devills;
which makes me think this naturall defect in me, if it
be a defect, is rather a fear than a bashfulness, but
whatsoever it is, I find it troublesome, for it hath
many times obstructed the passage of my speech,
and perturbed my naturall actions, forcing a con-
strainedness or unusual motions, but, however, since
it is rather a fear of others than a bashfull distrust

Memoirs 203

of m}^ self, I despaire of a perfect cure, unless nature
as well as human governments could be civilized and
brought into a methodicall order, ruling the words
and actions with a supreme power of reason, and the
authority of discretion: but a rude nature is worse
than a brute nature, by so much more as man is
better than beast, but those that are of civil natures
and gentle dispositions, are as much nearer to celes-
tiall creatures, as those that are of rude or cruell are
to devils: but in fine, after I had been in England
a year and a half, in which time I gave some half a
score visits, and went with My Lord's brother to hear
music in one Mr. Lawes his house, three or four times,
as also some three or four times to Hide Park with
my sisters, to take the aire, else I never stirred out of
my lodgings, unless to see my brothers and sisters,
nor seldom did I dress my self, as taking no delight
to adorn my self, since he I onely desired to please
was absent, although report did dress me in a hun-
dred severall fashions: 'tis true when I did dress
myself, I did endeavour to do it to my best becoming,
both in respect to my self and those I went to visit,
or chanc't to meet, but after I had been in England
a year and a half, part of which time I writ a book of
poems, and a little book called my Philosophical
Fancies, to which I have writ a large addition, since
I returned out of England, besides this book and one
other: as for my book intitled The World's Ollio, I
writ most part of it before I went into England, but
being not of a merry, although not of a froward or
peevish disposition, became very melanchoh^ by
reason I was from My Lord, which made my mind so
restless, as it did break my sleeps, and distemper my
health, with which growing impatient of a longer
delay, I resolved to return, although I was grieved

204 The Duchess of Newcastle

to leave Sir Charles, My Lord's brother, he being sick
of an ague, of which sickness he died: for though his
ague was cured, his hfe was decayed, he being not of
a strong constitution could not, as it did prove,
recover his health, for the dreggs of his ague did put
out the lamp of his Hfe, yet Heaven knows I did not
think his life was so near to an end, for his doctor had
great hopes of his perfect recovery, and by reason he
was to go into the country for change of aire, where I
should have been a trouble, rather than any ways
serviceable, besides, more charge the longer I stayed,
for which I made the more hast to return to My Lord,
with whom I had rather be as a poor beggar, than
to be mistress of the world absented from him; yet,
Heaven hitherto hath kept us, and though Fortune
hath been cross, yet we do submit, and are both
content with what is, and cannot be mended, and are
so prepared that the worst of fortunes shall not afflict
our minds, so as to make us unhappy, howsoever it
doth pinch our Hves with poverty ; for, if tranquillity
lives in an honest mind, the mind Hves in peace,
although the body suffer: but patience hath armed
us, and misery hath tried us, and finds us fortune-
proof. For the truth is, My Lord is a person whose
humour is neither extravagantly merry, nor un-
necessarily sad, his mind is above his fortune, as
his generosity is above his purse, his courage above
danger, his justice above bribes, his friendship
above self-interest, his truth too firm for falsehood,
his temperance beyond temptation, his conversa-
tion is pleasing and affable, his wit is quick, and his
judgment is strong, distinguishing cleerly without
clouds of mistakes, dissecting truth, so as it justly
admits not of disputes : his discourse is always new
upon the occasion, without troubling the hearers

Memoirs 205

with old historicall relations, nor stuft with useless
sentences, his behaviour is manly without formallity,
and free without constraint, and his minde hath the
same freedom : his nature is noble, and his disposition
sweet, his loyaltie is proved by his publick service
for his king and countrey, by his often hazarding of
his life, by the losse of his estate, and the banishment
of his person, by his necessitated condition, and his
constant and patient suffering; but, howsover our
fortunes are, we are both content, spending our time
harmlessly. For My Lord pleaseth himself with the
management of some few horses, and exercises himself
with the use of the sword; which two arts he hath
brought by his studious thoughts, rationall experience
and industrious practice, to an absolute perfection:
and though he hath taken as much pains in those
arts, both by study and practice, as chimists for the
phylosopher's stone, yet he hath this advantage of
them, that he hath found the right and the truth
thereof and therein, which chimists never found in
their art, and I believe never will. Also he recreates
himself with his pen, writing what his wit dictates
to him, but I pass my time rather with scribling than
writing, with words than wit, not that I speak much,
because I am addicted to contemplation, unless I am
with My Lord, yet then I rather attentively listen to
what he sayes, than impertinently speak, yet when
I am writing, sad and faind stories, or serious humours
or melancholy passions, I am forced many times to
express them with the tongue before I can write them
with the pen, by reason those thoughts that are sad,
serious, and melancholy, are apt to contract and to
draw too much back, which oppression doth as it were
overpower or smother the conception in the brain,
but when some of those thoughts "^ are sent out in

2o6 The Duchess of Newcastle

words, they give the rest more liberty to place them-
selves in a more methodicall order, marching more
regularly with my pen, on the ground of white paper,
but my letters seem rather as a ragged rout, than a
well-armed body, for the brain being quicker in
creating than the hand in writing, or the memory in
retaining, many fancies are lost, by reason they oft-
times outrun the pen; where I, to keep speed in the
race, write so fast as I stay not so long as to write
my letters plain, insomuch as some have taken my
hand-writing for some strange character, and being
accustomed so to do, I cannot now write very plain,
when I strive to write my best ; indeed, my ordinary
hand- writing is so bad as few can read it, so as to
write it fair for the press. But however, that little
wit I have, it delights me to scribble it out, and
disperse it about, for I being addicted from my child-
hood to contemplation rather than conversation, to
solitariness rather than society, to melancholy rather
than mirth, to write with the pen than to work with a
needle, passing my time with harmeless fancies, their
company being pleasing, their conversation innocent,
in which I take such pleasure, as I neglect my health,
for it is as great a grief to leave their society, as a joy
to be in their company. My only trouble is, lest my
brain should grow barren, or that the root of my
fancies should become insipid, withering into a dull
stupidity for want of maturing subjects to write on:
for I being of a lazy nature, and not of an active dis-
position, as some are that love to journey from town
to town, from place to place, from house to house,
delighting in variety of company, making still one
where the greatest number is ; likewise in playing at
cards, or any other games, in which I neither have
practised, nor have I any skill therein : as for dancing,

Memoirs 207

although it be a graceful art, and becometh unmarried
persons well, yet for those that are married, it is too
light an action, disagreeing with the gravity thereof;
and for revelling I am of too dull a nature, to make
one in a merry society. As for feasting, it would
neither agree with my humour or constitution, for
my diet is for the most part sparing, as a little boiled
chickin, or the like, my drink most commonly water.
For though I have an indifferent good appetite, yet I
do often fast, out of an opinion that if I should eat
much and exercise little, which I do, onely walking
a slow pace in my chamber, whilst my thoughts run
apace in my brain, so that the motions of my minde
hinders the active exercises of my body. For should
I dance or run, or walk apace, I should dance my
thoughts out of measure, run my fancies out of breath,
and tread out the feet of my numbers. But because
I would not bury myself quite from the sight of the
world, I go sometimes abroad, seldome to visit, but
only in my coach about the town, or about some of
the streets, which we call here a tour, where all the
chief of the town goe to see and to be seen, likewise
all strangers of what quallity soever, as all great
princes or queens that make any short stay. For this
town being a passage or thorough-fare to most parts,
causeth many times persons of great quallity to be
here, though not as inhabitants, yet to lodge for some
short time; and all such, as I said, take a delight, or
at lest goe to see the custome thereof, which most
cities of note in Europe for all I can hear, hath such
like recreations for the effeminate sex, although for
my part I had rather sit at home and write, or walk,
as I said, in my chamber and contemplate; but I
hold necessary sometimes to appear abroad, besides
I do find, that severall objects do bring new materialls

2o8 The Duchess of Newcastle

for'my thoughts and fancies to build upon, yet I must
say this in the behalf of my thoughts, that I never
found them idle ; for if the senses bring no work in,
they will work of themselves, like silk-wormes that
spinns out of their own bowels; neither can I say I
think the time tedious, when I am alone, so I be near
My Lord, and know he is well.

But now I have declared to my readers, my birth,
breeding, and actions, to this part of my life, I mean
the material parts, for should I write every particular,
as my childish sports and the like, it would be ridicul-
ous and tedious; but I have been honorably born
and nobly match't; I have been bred to elevated
thoughts, not to a dejected spirit, my life hath been
ruled with honesty, attended by modesty, and directed
by truth : but since I have writ in generall thus far of
my life, I think it fit, I spould speak something of my
humour, particular practice and disposition. As for
my humour, I was from my childhood given to con-
templation, being more taken or delighted with
thoughts then in conversation with a society, in so
much as I would walk two or three hours, and never
rest, in a musing, considering, contemplating manner,
reasoning with my self of every thing my senses did
present, but when I was in the company of my
naturall friends, I was very attentive of what they
said or did; but for strangers I regarded not much
what they said, but many times I did observe their
actions, whereupon m}^ reason as judge, and my
thoughts as accusers, or excusers, or approvers and
commenders, did plead, or appeal to accuse, or com-
plain thereto. Also I never took delight in closets,
or cabinets of toys, but in the variety of fine clothes,
and such toys as onely were to adorn my person:
likewise I had a naturall stupidity towards the

Memoirs 209

learning of any other language than my native tongue,
for I could sooner and with more facility understand
the sense, then remember the words, and for want of
such memory makes me so unlearned in foreign
languages as I am: as for my practise, I was never
very active, by reason I was given so much to con-
templation : besides my brothers and sisters were for
the most part serious, and staid in their actions, not
given to sport nor play, nor dance about, whose
company I keeping, made me so too : but I observed,
that although their actions were stayed, yet they
would be very merry amongst themselves, delighting
in each other's company: also they would in their
discourse express the generall actions of the world,
judging, condemning, approving, commending, as
they thought good, and with those that were inno-
cently harmless, they would make themselves merry
therewith. As for my studie of books it was little,
yet I chose rather to read, than to imploy my time
in any other work, or practise, and when I read
what I understood not, I would ask my brother, the
Lord Lucas, he being learned, the sense or meaning
thereof ; but my serious study could not be much, by
reason I took great delight in attiring, fine dressing,
and fashions, especially such fashions as I did invent
myself, not taking that pleasure in such fashions as
was invented by others : also I did dislike any should
follow my fashions, for I always took delight in a
singularity, even in accoutrements of habits, but
whatsoever I was addicted to, either in fashion of
cloths, contemplation of thoughts, actions of life,
they were lawful, honest, honourable, and modest,
of which I can avouch to the world with a great
confidence, because it is a pure truth. As for my
disposition, it is more inclining to' be melancholy

2IO The Duchess of Newcastle

than merry, but not crabbed or peevishly melancholy,
but soft, melting, solitary, and contemplating melan-
choly; and I am apt to weep rather than laugh, not
that I do often either of them; also I am tender
natured, for it troubles my conscience to kill a fly,
and the groans of a dying beast strike my soul : also
where I place a particular affection, I love extra-
ordinarily and constantly, yet not fondly, but soberly
and observingly ; not to hang about them as a trouble,
but to wait upon them as a servant, but this affection
will take no root, but where I think or find merit, and
have leave both from divine and morall laws; yet I
find this passion so troublesome, as it is the only
torment to my liife, for fear any evill misfortune or
accident, or sickness, or death, should come unto
them, insomuch as I am never freely at rest. Likewise
I am gratefull, for I never received a curtesie but I
am impatient, and troubled untill I can return it;
also I am chaste, both by nature and education,
insomuch as I do abhorre an unchast thought : like-
wise I am seldom angry, as my servants may witness
for me, for I rather chose to suffer some inconveniences
than disturbe my thoughts, which makes me winke
many times at their faults ; but when I am angry, I
am very angry, but yet it is soon over, and I am easily
pacified, if it be not such an injury as may create a
hate; neither am I apt to be exceptions or jealous;
but if I have the lest symptome of this passion, I
declare it to those it concerns, for I never let it ly
smothering in my breast to breed a maUgnant disease
in the minde, which might break out into extravagant
passions, or raihng speeches, or indiscreet actions;
but I examin moderately, reason soberly, and plead
gently in my own behalf, through a desire to keep
those affections I had, or at least thought to have;

Memoirs

21 I

and truly I am so vain, as to be so self-conceited, or
so naturally partial, to think my friends have as
much reason to love me as another, since none can
love more sincerely than I, and it were an injustice
to prefer a fainter affection, or to esteem the body
more than the minde. Likewise I am neither spitefull,
envious, nor mahcious ; I repine not at the gifts that
Nature, or Fortune bestows upon others, yet I am a
great emulator; for though I wish none worse than
they are, yet it is lawful for me to wish my self the
best, and to do my honest endeavour thereunto; for
I think it no crime to wish myself the exactest of
Nature's works, my thred of Hfe the longest, my chain
of destinie the strongest, my mind the peaceablest;
my Hfe the pleasantest, my death the easiest, and the
greatest saint in Heaven. Also to do my endeavour, so
far as honour and honesty doth allow of, to be the
highest on Fortune's wheele, and to hold the wheele,
from turning if I can; and if it be commendable to
wish another's good, it were a sin not to wish my own ;
for as envie is a vice, so emulation is a virtue, but
emulation is in the way to ambition, or indeed it is a
noble ambition. But I fear my ambition inclines to
vain-glory, for I am very ambitious; yet 'tis neither
for beauty, wit, titles, wealth, or power, but as they
are steps to raise me to fame's tower, which is to live
by remembrance on after- ages. Likewise I am, that
the vulgar calls, proud, not out of self-conceit, or to
slight or condemn any, but scorning to do a base or
mean act, and disdaining rude or unworthy persons;
insomuch, that if I should find any that were rude
or too bold, I should be apt to be so passionate, as to
affront them, if I can; unless discretion should get
betwixt my passion and their boldness, which some-
times perchance it might, if discretion should croud

212 The Duchess of Newcastle

hard for place; for though I am naturally bashful,
yet in such a cause my spirits would be all on fire.
Otherwise I am so well bred, as to be civill to all
persons, of all degrees, or qualities; Hkewise I am so
proud, or rather just to My Lord, as to abate nothing
of the qualitie of his wife ; for if honour be the marke
of merit, and his masters royall favour, who will
favour none but those that have merit to deserve, it
were a baseness for me to neglect the ceremony thereof.
Also in some cases I am naturally a coward, and in
other cases very valiant; as for example, if any of
my neerest friends were in danger, I should never
consider my life in striving to help them, though I
were sure to do them no good, and would willingly,
nay cheerfully, resign my life for their sakes. Likewise
I should not spare my life, if honour bids me dye;
but in a danger where my friends, or my honour is
not concerned, or ingaged, but only my life to be
unprofitably lost, I am the veriest coward in nature,
as upon the sea, or any dangerous places, or of thieves,
or fire, or the Uke. Nay, the shooting of a gun, although
but a pot-gun, will make me start, and stop my
hearing, much less have I courage to discharge one;
or if a sword should be held against me, although but
in jest, I am afraid. Also as I am not covetous, so I am
not prodigall, but of the two I am incHning to be
prodigall, yet I cannot say to a vain prodigallity,
because I imagine it is to a profitable end, for per-
ceiving the world is given, or apt to honour the outside
more than the inside, worshipping show more than
substance; and I am so vain, if it be a vanity, as to
endeavour to be worship't, rather than not to be
regarded; yet I shall never be so prodigall as to
impoverish my friends, or go beyond the limits or
facilitie of our estate. And though I desire to appear

Memoirs 213

to the best advantage, whilest I live in the view of
the pubhc world, yet I could most wiUingly exclude
myself, so as never to see the face of any creature
but My Lord, as long as I live ; inclosing myself like
an anchoret, wearing a frize gown, tied with a cord
about my waste. But I hope my readers will not
think me vain for writing my life, since there have
been many that have done the like, as Cesar, Ovid,
and many more, both men and women, and I know
no reason I may not do it as well as they : but I verily
believe some censuring readers will scornfully say.
Why hath this lady writ her own life ? since none cares
to know whose daughter she was, or whose wife she
is, or how she was bred, or what fortunes she had, or
how she lived, or what humour or disposition she was
of? I answer that it is true, that 'tis to no purpose
to the readers, but it is to the authoress, because I
write it for my own sake, not theirs; neither did I
intend this piece for to dehght, but to divulge; not
to please the fancy, but to tell the truth, lest after-
ages should mistake, in not knowing I was daughter
to one Master Lucas of St. Johns, near Colchester, in
Essex, second wife to the Lord Marquis of Newcastle ;
for My Lord having had two wives, I might easily have
been mistaken, especially if I should dye and My Lord
marry again.

SOCIABLE LETTERS

SOCIABLE LETTERS

ON CONVERSING BY LETTER

Madam, — ^You were pleased to desire, that, since
we cannot converse personally, we should converse
by letters, so as if we were speaking to each other,
discoursing our opinions, discovering our designs,
asking and giving each other advice ; also telling the
several accidents, and several imployments of our
home-affairs, and what visits we receive, or entertain-
ments we make, and whom we visit, and how we are
entertained; what discourses we have in our gossiping-
meetings, and what reports we hear of publick affairs,
and of particular persons, and the like; so that our
letters may present our personal meetings and asso-
ciatings. Truly, Madam, I take so much delight in
your wise, witty, and virtuous conversation, as I
could not pass my life more pleasing and delightfully ;
wherefore I am never better pleased, than when I am
reading your letters, and when I am writing letters to
you; for my mind and thoughts are all that while in
your company; the truth is, my mind and thoughts
live always with you, although my person is at
distance from you; insomuch as, if souls die not as
bodies do, my soul will attend you when my body
lies in the grave; and when we are both dead, we
may hope to have a conversation of souls, where
yours and mine will be doubly united, first in life,
and then in death, in which I shall eternally be, Madam,
Your faithful friend and humble servant.

217

2 1 8 The Duchess of Newcastle

AGE, WRINKLES, RUIN AND DEATH

Madam, — ^The Lady C. E. ought not to be reproved
for grieving for the loss of her beauty, for beauty is
the Hght of our sex, which is ecHpsed in middle age,
and benighted in old age, wherein our sex sits in
melancholy darkness, and the remembrance of beauty
past, is as a displeasing dream. The tnith is, a young
beautiful face is a friend, whereas an old withered
face is an enemy ; the one causes love, the other aver-
sion: yet I am not of Mrs. U. R/s humour, which
had rather dye before her beauty, than that her
beauty should die before her: for I had rather live
with wrinkles, than die with youth; and had rather
my face clothed with time's sad mourning, than with
death's white hue ; and surely it were better to follow
the shadow of beauty, than that beauty should go
with the corpse to the grave; and I believe that
Mrs. U. R. would do, as the tale is of a woman, that
did wish, and pray she might die before her husband,
but when death came, she entreated him to spare her,
and take her husband; so that she would rather live
without him, than die for him. But leaving this sad
discourse of age, wrinkles, ruin and death,

I rest, Madam,
Your very faithful friend and servant.

THE LADY' J. O.'S DAUGHTERS

Madam, — ^The other day was here the Lady J. O.
to see me, and her three daughters, which are called
the three Graces, the one is black, the other brown,
the third white, all three different coloured beauties;
also they are of different features, statures and

Sociable Letters 219

shapes, yet all three so equally handsome, that neither
judgment nor reason can prefer one before another:
also their behaviours are different ; the one is majestical,
the other gay and airy, the third meek, and bashful;
yet all three graceful, sweet and becoming : also their
wits are different ; the one propounds well, the other
argues well; the third resolves well; all which
make a harmony in discourse. These three ladies are
resolved never to marry, which makes many sad
lovers; but whilst they were here, in comes the Lord
S. C. and discoursing with them, at last he asks them,
whether they were seriously resolved never to marry ?
they answered, they were resolved never to marry:
But, ladies, said he, consider, time wears out youth
and fades beauty, and then you will not be the three
young, fair Graces ; You say true, my Lord, answered
one of them, but when we leave to be the young fair
Graces, we shall then be the old, wise Sybils. By this
answer you may perceive, that when our sex cannot
pretend to be fair, they will pretend to be wise ; but
it matters not what we pretend to, if we be really
virtuous, which I wish all our sex may be.

And rest, Madam,
Your very faithful friend and servant.

ON SIR F. O.'S PAPER COFFIN

Madam, — In your last letter you sent me word,
that Sir F. O. was retired to write his own life, for
he sales, he knows no reason, but he may write his
own life as well as Guzman ; and since you desire my
opinion of his intended work, I can onely say, that
his life for anything I know to the contrary, hath been
as evil as Guzman's. But whether his wit be as good
as Guzman's, I know not, yet I doubt the worst, and

2 20 The Duchess of Newcastle

to write an evil life without wit, will be but a dull and
tedious story, indeed so tedious and dull, as I believe
none will take the pains to read it, unless he reads of
himself ; but it is to be hoped that he will be tired of
himself, and so desist from his self story. And if he
do write his own life, it will be as a masking dolphin,
or such like thing, where the outside is painted paste-
board or canvas, and the inside stuffed with shreds
of paper, or dirty rags, scraped from dunghills; and
if he set his picture before, as a frontispiece to his
book, it will be like an ill-favoured masking vizzard.
But if he have any friends, surely they will persuade
him to imploy his time about something else; but
some are so unhappy, as they have nothing to imploy
time with ; they can waste time, but not imploy time ;
and as they waste time, so time wastes them. There's
a saying, That men are horn to live, and live to die ; but
I think some are onely born to die, and not to live;
for they make small use of life, and life makes small
use of them; so that in effect they were ready for
the grave, as soon as they came forth from the womb.
Wherefore, if Sir F. O. go forward with his work, he
will dig his grave through the story of his life, and his
so Ill-less wit will be buried therein. But leaving his
dead wit to his paper coffin, and his unprofitable
labours to his black mourning ink,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful fr. and s.

ON WIT AND THE WORLD

Madam, — I am sorry to hear, wit is so little known
and understood, that Sir W. T. should be thought
mad, because he hath more wit than other men;
indeed, wit should alwayes converse with wit, and

Sociable Letters 221

fools with fools; for wit and fools can never agree,
they understand not one another. Wit flies beyond a
fool's conceit or understanding, for wit is like an eagle,
it hath a strong wing, and flies high and far, and when
it doth descend, it knocks a fool on the head, as an
eagle doth a dotril, or a woodcock, or such like birds;
and surely the world was never so filled with fools,
as it is in this age, nor hath there been greater errours,
or grosser follies committed than there hath been in
this age. It is not an age like Augustus Caesar's, when
wisdom reigned, and wit flourished, which was the
cause of plenty and peace throughout the whole
world: but in this age debauchery is taken for wit,
and faction for wisdom, treachery for policy, and
drunken quarrels for valour. Indeed, the world is so
foolishly wicked, and basely foohsh, that they are
happiest who can withdraw themselves most from
it: but when I say the world, I mean the world of
men, or rather the bodies of men, for there doth not
seem to be many rational souls amongst them, they
are soul-less men, bodies of men that have only senses
and appetites, or sensual appetites. But you say,
every particular complains of the world, as I do in
this letter, yet none helps to mend it. Let me tell you.
Madam, it is not in the power of every particular,
nor in a number, but the chiefest persons must mend
the world ; viz. they that govern the world, or else the
world will be out at the heels. But in some ages the
world is more tattered and torn, than in other ages;
and in some ages the world is patched and pieced,
but seldom new and suitable; and it is oftener in a
fool's coat than in a grave cassock. Wherefore,
leaving the motley,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

222 The Duchess of Newcastle

THE LADY PURITAN AND THE PREACHERS

Madam, — ^The pure lady, or Lady Puritan, is so godly,
as to follow all those ministers she thinks are called
and chosen by the Holy Spirit, to preach the word of
God, whereas those ministers preach more their own
words, than God's, for they interpret the Scripture
to their own sense, or rather to their factious humours
and designs; and after their sermons, their female
flocks gossip Scripture, visiting each other to confer
notes and make repetitions of the sermons, as also
to explain and expound them. For, first the minister
expounds the Scripture, and then the women-hearers
expound the sermon; so that there are expoundings
upon expoundings, and preaching upon preaching,
insomuch as they make such a medly or hash of the
Scripture, as certainly the right and truth is so hidden
and obscured that none can find it; and surely the
Holy Spirit, whom they talk so much of, knows not
what they mean or preach, being so much and such
nonsense in their sermons, as God Himself cannot
turn to sense. But howsoever, it works on some to a
good effect, and causes as much devotion amongst
many, as if they preached learnedly, eloquently,
and interpreted rightly, and to the true sense and
meaning; for many sorrowful and penitent tears are
shed. But whether they be bottled up in Heaven, I
know not : certainly Mary Magdalen could not weep
faster for the time, or fetch deeper sighs, or stronger
groans for her sins, than they do, which shows that
they have been grevious sinners; but whether their
sins were of the same kind as hers were, I cannot tell,
and I think they would not confess, for confession
they account Popish. But truly, and verily, the Lady

Sociable Letters 223

Puritan who hath been to visit me this afternoon,
hath so tired me with her preaching discourse, as I
think I shall not recover my weary spirits and deafened
ears, this two dayes, unless a quiet sleep cure me.
Nay, she hath so filled my head with words, as I
doubt it will hinder my silent repose; howsoever I'le
try: and so taking my leave as going to bed, I rest.
Madam,

Your faithful fr. and s.

ON HER RETIRED LIFE

Madam, — I heard by your last, that the Lady S. P.
was to visit you, where, amongst her other discourses
she spoke of me, and was pleased to censure and
condemn, as to censure the cause, and condemn the
manner of my life, saying, that I did either retire
out of a fantastick humour, or otherwise I was
constrained, in not having the liberty, that usually
other wives have, to go abroad, and receive what
\dsitors they please. But if she did but know the
sweet pleasures, and harmless delights I have by
this retirement, she would not have said what she
did; and to answer to what she said, this course of
life is by my own voluntary choice. For I have liberty
to do anything, or to go anywhere, or to keep any
company that discretion doth allow and honour
approve of; and though I may err in my discretion,
yet not in cases of honour, for had I not onely liberty,
but were perswaded or inticed by aU the world's
allurements, or were threatened with death, to do,
or act anything against honour, or to do any thing or
act, honour did not approve of, I would not do it ; nay,
I would die first. But in that which is called honour,
are many ingrediencies, as justice, chastity, truth,

224 The Duchess of Newcastle

trust, gratitude, constancy, and many the like. Next
I answer, that it is not out of a fantastic humour, that
I Hve so much retired, which is to keep my house
more than go abroad, but out of self-love, and not
out of self-opinion, and it is just and natural for any
one to love himself. Wherefore, for my pleasure and
delight, my ease and peace, I live a retired life, a
home life, free from the intanglements, confused
clamours, and rumbling noise of the world; for I by
this retirement live in a calm silence, wherein I have
my contemplations free from disturbance, and my
mind hves in peace, and my thoughts in pleasure;
they sport and play, they are not vext with cares nor
worldly desires, they are not covetous of worldly
wealth, nor ambitious of empty titles. They are not
to be catched with the baits of sensual pleasures, or
rather I may say, sensual folHes, for they draw my
senses to them, and run not out to the senses; they
have no quarrelling disputes amongst them; they
live friendly and sociably together; their onely de-
light is in their own pastimes and harmless recrea-
tions; and though I do not go personally to masks,
balls, and playes, yet my thoughts entertain my mind
with such pleasures, for some of my thoughts make
playes, and others act those playes on the stage of
imagination, while my mind sits as a spectator. Thus
my mind is entertained both with poets and players,
and takes as much delight as Augustus Ccesar did to
have his Mecsenas, the patron of poetry, sit and hear
Virgil and Horace read their works unto them. So
my mind takes delight in its dear Mecaenas, which is
contemplation, and to have its poetical thoughts,
although not like Virgil or Horace, yet such as they
are, it is pleased to have them repeat their poems and
other works which they make; and those my mind

Sociable Letters 225

likes best, it sends them forth to the senses to write
them down, and then to send them out to the pubHck
view of the world; and many times the senses send
in objects to the mind, who straight commands his
poetical thoughts to take them for plots of playes, or
causes the grave philosophical thoughts to discourse
of them, or his oratorical thoughts to practice their
eloquence on them, or his critical thoughts to dispute
and argue with them. Which done, all their several
discourses, disputes, arguments, poems, playes, and
the like, made on those objects, are sent back to the
senses to write them down, so that the mind and the
thoughts imploy the senses, and the senses imploy the
mind and thoughts ; and thus I take as much pleasure
within myself, if not more, as the Lady S. P. doth
without herself. Indeed none enjoyes truly himself,
but those that live to themselves, as I do, and it is
better to be a self-lover in a retired life, than a self-
seeker in a wandering humour like a vagabond, for
they go from place to place, from one company to
another, and never are at rest in their minds nor
bodies; and how should it be otherwise? For they
lose themselves in company, and keeping much
company, they know not where to find themselves, for
as for their dweUing-place, they are sure to miss of
themselves there. But indeed they have no constant
dwelling, for going much abroad, they dwell every
where, and yet to speak metaphorically, no where.
But every one's dehghts are different, for the Lady
S. P. delights her self with others, and I delight my
self with my self; some dehght in troubles, I delight
in ease, and certainly much company and conversa-
tion cannot chuse but be troublesome; for in much
company are many exceptions, much envy, much
suspicion, much detraction, much faction, much noise,

H

22 6 The Duchess of Newcastle

and much nonsense, and it is impossible, at least
improbable, for any particular person to please all
the several companies they come into, or are visited
by, if the resort be many ; by reason every one hath
as different humours as faces, wherein some will be
displeased, if others should be pleased; and most
commonly they are so far from pleasing all, as none
is pleased. For if any particular person should praise
every one, it would be thought flattery; if he should
praise none, it would be conceived to be envy; if he
should praise but some, it would be judged to be
partiality. The like for discourse ; if one should address
his discourse to any one, or to some more than to
others, it would be taken as a disrespect ; if generally
to the whole company, it would be accounted pride,
as taking one's self to be the onely singular person that
must have a general audience; neither can any one
person fit his discourse to every one's humour, fancy,
capacity, understanding, knowledge, or dehght. Nay,
most commonly, whatsoever is spoken, is interpreted
to the worst sense, at least, contradicted ; and when
they are parted, their words or discourses is repeated
to their disadvantage, and commented on, and
interpreted to an evil sense ; and if they say nothing,
or but little, they are accounted ill-natured, or
thought fools. And yet they love not to hear any one
speak but themselves, every one desires to be heard,
yet takes it ill not to be spoken to ; also if particular
persons make an entertainment, if they invite not
those they have no acquaintance with, as well as
those of their acquaintance, if they are within the
distance of coming to the entertainment, they take
it for an affront, but if they should leave out any
acquaintance, it is a breach for ever, and they become
their enemies : also, if particular persons be accoutered

Sociable Letters 227

bravely, they are envied, if they be attired in plain,
mean garments, they are despised; if any woman be
more beautiful than commonly the rest are, if she
appears to the world, she shall be sure to have more
female detractors and slanderers, to ruin her reputa-
tion, than any monarch hath souldiers to fight an
enemy; and if any woman be ill-favoured, it is men-
tioned as a reproach, although it be Nature's fault,
and not hers; and if she be indifferently handsome,
they speak of her as regardless ; if she be in years, they
will say she is fitter for the grave than company; if
young, fitter for a school than conversation; if of
middle years, their tongues are the fore-runners of her
decay; if she have wealth, and no titles, she is like
meat, all fat, and no blood; and if great title with
small wealth, they say, she is like a pudding without
fat; and if she hath both wealth and title, they shun
her as the plague, they hate to see her, as owls hate
the light ; and if she hath neither wealth nor title, they
scorn her company, and will not cast an eye towards
her. And thus the generality is to every particular:
wherefore it is impossible for any particular either to
please the humours, or avoid the slanders or reproaches
of the generality, for every one is against another;
indeed, every one is against all, and all against every
one, and yet through the itch of talk, luxury, wanton-
ness, and vanity, they will associate into companies,
or rather I may say, gather into companies, and
frequent each other's houses; whereas those that
endeavour to be truly happy, will not be troubled with
such folhes, nor disturbed with such toyes. But I am
not so retired, as to bar my self from the company
of my good friends, or such as are free from excep-
tion, as not to translate harmless and simple words,
to an evil sense and meaning, or such as are so noble.

2 28 The Duchess of Newcastle

as not to dispraise, or detract from such persons as
they are pleased to take the pains to visit, or from such
as will not take it for a neglect, if I do not punctually
return their visit, or perhaps not visit them at any
time ; but will excuse or pardon my lazy humour and
not account it a disrespect, as truly it is none ; for I
do honour and admire all civil, worthy, and honour-
able persons, and would be ready at all times honestly
to serve them. But this retired life is so pleasing
to me, as I would not change it for all the pleasures
of the pubhck world, nay, not to be mistress of the
world, for I should not desire to be mistress of that
which is too big to be commanded, too self-willed to
be ruled, too factious to be governed, too turbulent
to live in peace ; and wars would fright, at least grieve
me that mankind should be so ill-natured and cruel
to destroy each other. To conclude, I am more
happy in my home-retirement, than I believe the
Lady S. P. is in her public frequentments, having a
noble and kind husband, who is witty and wise
company, a peaceable and quiet mind, and recreative
thoughts, that take harmless liberty; and all this I
have declared to you, that you may let the Lady S. P.
know that my retirement from the publick concourse
and army of the world, and regiments of acquaintance,
is neither through constraint, nor fantastick humour,
but through a love to peace, ease, and pleasure, all
which you enjoy; which is the fulfilling of your
Ladiship's faithful friend and servant's happiness.

ON YOUTH AND TIME

Madam, — I remember you told me, that formerly
you thought time troublesome, and every place
wearisome; as in the spring, you would wish for

Sociable Letters 229

summer, when summer came, you would wish for
autumn, and in the autumn you would wish for
winter, a cold wish ; nay every day, every hour, every
minute, you thought tedious and long. Indeed time
runs so fast upon youth, as it doth oppress youth,
which makes youth desire to cast it by; and though
the motion of time is swift, yet the desire of youth is
swifter, and the motions of thoughts are so far beyond
the motions of time, as the motion of time is beyond
the motion of Nature's architecture; so as youth,
through its sharp, greedy, hungry appetite, devours
time, like as a cormorant doth fish. For as he never
stayes to chew, but swallows down whole fishes, so
youth swallows, as it were, whole dayes, weeks,
months, years, untill they surfeit with practice, or are
fully satisfied with experience. The same reason
makes youth weary of every place or company, for
they are not satisfied, because they have not had
enough variety of knowledge. They know not the
right use of time, the unprofitable use of vanity, the
restless motions of variety, nor know they the deceits,
abuses, and treacheries of their own kind, as man-
kind, neither do they know their own natures and
dispositions ; they know not what to choose, nor what
to leave, what to seek, nor what to shun; neither
have they felt the heavy burdens of cares, nor oppres-
sions of sorrows for losses and crosses ; they have not
been pinched with necessity, nor pained with long
sicknesses, nor stung with remorse; they have not
been terrified with bloody wars, nor forsaken of natural
friends, nor betrayed by feigned friendships; they
have not been robbed of all their maintenance, nor
been banished their countrey. Thus being tenderly
young, they are oppresst with the quick repetitions
of time, and their senses being sharp, and their

230 The Duchess of Newcastle

appetites hungry, they greedily devour time, though
in the end time devours them, the meat, the eater,
also the desire of knowledge makes every place and
company wearisom, for youth takes delight in that
which is new, they being new themselves. For youth
is like garments new made, and being new themselves,
they sympathetically delight and love new things, as
new clothes, new houses, new varieties, new sports,
new countries, new companies, new lovers, new
friends, and anything that is new to them, insomuch
as they would rather have a new enemy, than an old
friend; and thus will youth do, until time turns its
back, whereupon are written all the follies of youth,
which follies they could not see to read whilst time
was before them. For while time's face is towards them,
they onely see their childish desires, which are all
written upon time's breast. But, Madam, I believe
that time, as troublesom as it hath seemed to you,
you would be glad now of its stay; but time doth like
all courting amorosoes do, they run to imbrace youth,
though they tire youth with their troublesom kind-
ness; but when the gloss of youth is past, they leave
off their amours, nay, they hate those they made love
to, and strive to get away from them as fast as they
can, and as far ofi: just so doth time, it makes love
to all, and then forsakes all it hath made love to.
But, Madam, it hath but newly turned its head from
you, but it will turn its whole body; at first it will
seem to pace slowly from you, but it will mend its
pace, and at last run from you, yet let it not run
without your repining, or grieving for its neglects,
for no persuasion will make it stay. But, Madam,
you will be happier in time's neglects, than in its
embracements, and will make more advantage from
time's heels than from its head, for time's head is filled

Sociable Letters 231

with vanity, and on time's heels is experience; yet
although time runs from you, wisdom will stay with
you, for wisdom is the son of time, and became wise
by his father's follies, which are written upon his
father's back; for wisdom waits alwayes behind his
father, and neither wisdom the son, nor time the
father, do meet face to face; and you will find more
happiness in wisdom's company than in time's court-
ships. For wisdom's conversation is comfortable and
pleasing, it speaks with the tongue of an oratour,
the wit of a poet, and the advice of a friend; then
who would be troubled with the fantastical humours,
apish actions, flattering speeches, and subtil deceits
of time ? But lest this letter should be as tedious to
you as fonnerly time was, I'll stop here, and rest,
Madam,

Your Ladiship's faithful fr. and s.

THE TALKING LADIES

Madam, — ^The Lady P. R. was to visit the Lady
S. I. and other ladies with her, whose conversation
and discourse was according to their female capacities
and understandings, and when they were all gone the
Lady S. I.'s husband asked his wife, why she did not
talk as the rest of the ladies did, especially the Lady P.
R. so loud and impertinently ? She answered, she had
neither the humour, breath, voice, nor wit, to speak
so long, so loud, and so much of nothing: He said,
her answer liked him well, for he would not have his
wife so bold, so rude, and so talking a fool. Thus,
Madam, we may perceive how discourse in conversa-
tion is judged of, and for the most part condemned by
the hearers, when perchance the ladies imagine that

232 The Duchess of Newcastle

they are applauded and commended for their wit
and confident behaviour; for self-love thinks all is
well said or done, that itself speaks or acts, so that
self-love doth alwayes approve it self, and dispraise
others. But leaving self-love to self-admiration, and
that admiration to other's condemnation,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful fr. and s.

ON WORDS AND WIT

Madam, — ^In j^our last letter you were pleased to
condemn me for admiring words, so much, as to
prefer eloquence before all other musick; but pray,
Madam, mistake me not, for I do not admire the
words, but the sense, reason, and wit, that is exprest,
and made known by words. Neither do I admire
formal orators, that speak premeditated orations,
but natural orators, that can speak on a sudden upon
any subject, whose words are as sweet and melting
as manna from Heaven, and their wit as spreading
and refreshing as the serene air, whose understanding
is as clear as the sun, giving light of truth to all their
hearers, who in case of perswasion, speak sweetly,
in case of reproof, seasonably, and in all cases effectu-
ally. And, Madam, if you do consider well, you can-
not chuse but admire, and wonder at the powers of
eloquence, for there is a strange hidden mystery in
eloquence, it hath a magical power over manldnd
for it charms the senses, and inchants the mind, and
is of such a commanding power, as it forces the will
to command the actions of the body and soul, to do,
or to suffer, beyond their natural abilities, and makes
the souls of men the tongue's slaves; for such is the
power of an eloquent speech, as it binds the judge-

Sociable Letters 233

ment, blindfolds the understanding, and deludes the
reason; also it softens the obdurate hearts, and
causes dry eyes to weep, and dryes wet eyes from
tears; also it refines the drossy humours, polishes
the rough passions, bridles the unruly appetites, re-
forms the rude manners, and calms the troubled
minds; it can civilise the life by virtue, and inspire
the soul with devotion. On the other side it can
enrage the thoughts to madness, and cause the soul
to despair. The truth is, it can make men like gods
or devils, as having a power beyond nature, custom
and force, for many times the tongue hath been too
strong for the sword, and often carried away the vic-
tory ; also it hath been too subtil for the laws, as to
banish right, and to condemn truth; and too hard for
the natures of men, making their passions its prisoners.
And since eloquence hath such power over arms, and
laws, and men, as to make peace or war, to compose
or dissolve commonwealths, to dispose of souls and
bodies of mankind; wherefore those men that are
indued with such eloquence, and overflowing wit,
are both to be feared and loved, to be highly ad-
vanced or utterly banished ; for those whose eloquent
wit outruns their honesty, are to be punished, but
those that employ their eloquent wit, and elegant
graces, to the service of the commonwealth, are to
be esteemed, respected, and relied upon, as pillars
of the commonwealth. But to conclude, wit makes
a ladder of words, to climb to fame's high tower, and
the tongue carries men further than their feet, and
builds them a statelier, and more lasting palace than
their hands, and their wit, more than their wealth,
doth adorn it. But now, leaving words and wit, I
rely upon love and friendship, and rest. Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

H2

234 The Duchess of Newcastle

THE EIGHT KINDS OF MANKIND

Madam, — I do not wonder, that the Lord C. R.
should delight in effeminate pastimes, as dancing,
fidling, visiting, junketting, attiring, and the like,
because he is an effeminate man, fitter to dance with
a lady, than to fight with an enemy; nor do I wonder
that the Lord N. W. practises riding, fencing, vaulting,
shooting, hunting, fortifying, navigating, and the
like, because he is an heroick man, fitter to conquer a
nation, than to dance a gaUiard or courant ; nor I do
not wonder that the Lord A, M. drinks, whores,
games, and the like, because he is a debauched man,
apter to quarrel than to fight; neither do I wonder
that the Lord L. V. studies, reads, writes, travels,
inquires and searches for right and truth, because he
is a wise man ; nor I do not wonder at the Lord F. O.
that loves amorous courtships, because he is an idle
man; nor I do not wonder at the Lord C. H. that
prayes to God, sends to the sick, and relieves the poor,
because he is a good man; nor do I wonder at the
Lord W. I. who extorts, exacts, and deceives, because
he is a wicked man ; neither do I wonder at the Lord
C. C. who visits the meritorious, applauds the worthy,
assists the industrious, and the like, because he is a
generous person; nor I do not wonder at the Lord
G. R. that he speaks false with his tongue, dissembles
in his countenance, betrays in his actions, because he
is a base man. Thus, Madam, we may divide man-
kind into eight parts, or rather into four; for those
four, as the effeminate, idle, wicked, and base, are
but the slime and dung of mankind, and onely the
heroick, wise, good, and generous, are the soul and
body of mankind. The first are neither good for

Sociable Letters 235

citizens, magistrates, nor commanders, but rather fit
to be set in the fore-fronts of battels to be destroyed,
or to fill up breaches, being but rubbish; but then
you will say, this were the way to destroy most men
in the world, the truth is, if it were not for such men
and ravenous beasts, the world would be rather a
heaven than a world. But leaving them and beasts,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON SIR W. C.'S WIFE AND HER SINGULAR

DISCRETION

Madam, — Sir W. C.'s wife you know hath a con-
versable and ingenious wit, yet not being very hand-
som, her husband hath got him a mistress, who is
very beautiful and handsom, but yet she is a fool;
a friend of his asked him why he chose a fool for his
mistress ? He said, he did not court her for her wit,
but for her beauty; for, said he, now I have a mistress
for delight, and a wife for conversation, I have a
mistress to look on, and admire, and a wife to listen
to and discourse with, and both to embrace at mv
pleasure. But, said his friend, if your wife should
come to know you have a mistress you will not take
much pleasure in her conversation, unless you account
mourning complaints of, or to you, exclamations and
curses against you, cross speeches, opposite actions,
and hideous noise, to be conversable and delightful;
for the truth is, said he, your wife's words will be so
salt, sharp, and bitter, as they will corrode your mind,
leaven up your thoughts, and make your life unpleas-
ant. My wife, said Sir W. C, shall not know I have a
mistress; his friend replied, your often absence will

236 The Duchess of Newcastle

betray you, or else some other will tell her, for adultery
is like murder, it seldom escapes finding out; and
since that time Sir W. C.'s lady hath heard of her
husband's mistress, but she seems not to be angry
at it, but talks of it with great patience, saying, that
if her husband takes pleasure in variety, he will be
more delighted with her wit, than with his mistress's
beauty, and will sooner be tired with gazing on one
object, than in hearing divers discourses and diver-
sions of wit, sense, reason, judgement, fancy, and
speech. Besides, said she, wit attracts the mind more
to love, than beauty to admiration, and if my husband
loves me best, said she, I am well content he should
admire her beauty most, as also to imbrace her as
much as he pleases. For I am so dehghted, and wedded
to my own wit, that I regard not my husband's amours
nor imbracings, for wit is spiritual and not corporeal,
it lives with the mind, and not with the body, being
not subject to the gross senses; for though wit, said
she, may be made known by words and actions, yet
those are but the pictures of wit's works, not wit it
self, for that cannot be drawn, it is beyond all draughts ;
and so much difference, said she, is between my
husband's mistress and his wife, as a picture and an
invisible spirit, which spirit can both help and hurt,
dehght and terrific, damn and glorifie. But howsoever,
said she, my wit shall not be my husband's evil spirit,
neither to reproach him, nor to disgrace, reprove,
delude, or anger him ; but it shall be alwayes ready to
defend, commend, inform, delight, and if it could,
to reform him; but I believe, said she, that is past
the power of my wit, for it is a hard matter to
restrain nature from Hberty, especially of the appetites,
for the passions of the mind are more easily governed
than the appetites of the body, for they are sensual

Sociable Letters 237

and brutal wherefore time is a better reformer of the
appetites than reason. But madam, this is to let you
know the Lady W. C.'s wit, discretion, and temper,
which is more than most of our sex hath; and so
leaving her to her wit, and her husband to reforma-
tion, and his mistress's beauty to time,

I rest, Madam,
Your most faithful friend and servant.

ON SIR F. O.'S DISH OF BREWESS

Madam, — I am sorry Sir F. O. hath undervalued
himself so much below his birth and wealth, as to
marry his kitchen-maid, but it was a sign he had an
hungry, or that he lived a solitary life, seeing no
better company, or conversed not with women of
quality ; or else he hath been too privately kind, and
was loth to have it too publickly known ; or he hath
tried her virtue, and so married her for chastity,
though many women will deny some, and grant to
others; or else he married her for beauty, or wit, or
both, although the inferiour or meaner sort of people,
especially women, are oftener owners of beauty than
wit, and if they have some wit, it is onely sharp
replies, which are a kind of a scolding; and I have
heard that the way or manner of courtship amongst
the inferiour sort of people in E. is scolding, they
scold themselves into matrimony, or at least, make
love in a rough, rude style. But perchance Sir F. O.
married his kitchen-maid in hopes she would make a
nimble and obedient which he might fear one of
equal birth would not be ; indeed he hath chosen one
out of the humblest offices, or household imployments,
for the kitchen for the most part is the lowest room

238 The Duchess of Newcastle

in a house. Yet I write not this as beheveing he may
not be happy in his choice, for 'tis hkely the match
may be more happy than honourable, and if he
thinks it is no disgrace, or cares not for disgrace, all
is well, for it onely concerns himself, as having no
parents living to grieve or anger, nor no former
children to suffer by. But though her ofQce and birth
were both dripping and basting, yet his dignity and
wealth hath made her a gay lady, and so leaving him
to his dish of brewess,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON THE DEGREES AND DIVERS SORTS OF

WIT

Madam, — ^You were pleased to desire me to send
you my opinion of Mrs. R. E.'s wit, truly I cannot
judge of her wit until I have a longer acquaintance
with her. For there are many several degrees, and
divers sort of wit, as from a pint to a tun, or teirce,
or pipe of wit, all which may be drawn dry, and their
brains be as empty barrels; and some have rivers or
seas of wit, which sometimes ebb and some flow,
wherein some have double tides; and others have
springs of wit which issue out into small streams, but
make great flouds, by reason they constantly flow
without intermission. But there are not many seas,
nor rivers, nor floods, nor springs of wit, for there are
more bottels than springs, and more barrels than seas
of wit. As for spring wit, it is fresh, sweet, calm,
smooth, pure, bright and clear, whereas sea wit is
salt, sad, fomy, rough, boisterous, unsteady, and
sometimes dangerous. And as there are several

Sociable Letters 239

degrees of wit for quantity, and sorts of wit for
quality, so there are several weights of wit. For salt
wit is heavy and searching, it presses to the centre,
and peirces to the quick, and opens the obstructions
of the world of mankind, like as mineral waters do
the splene, or the like parts of the body, whereas
fresh spring wit is light and airy, running with a
smooth and quick motion, refreshing the world of
mankind, bathing the soul, cleansing the thoughts,
and quenching the drought of time, which is over-
heated with running; but least my pen should become
dry with writing, having not wit enough to moisten it,
I'le take my leave, and rest, Madam,

Your faithful fr. and s.

ON COMBUSTIONS AND WARS

Madam, — ^I have observed that in all combustions
and wars, those get more favour and profit that enter
into them latest, for those that are at the beginning,
for the most part, are losers, either in lives, or estates,
or both, and are least favoured by those they fight
or adventure for, nay most commonly they are dis-
favoured; wherefore, if honour and honesty would
give leave, were I a man, I would not enter till the
last course, for that is sweetest, like a banquet. But
because honour and honesty would exclaim against
me, for preferring profit and promotion before them,
therefore a man ought to do his endeavour in a just
cause, for honour and honestie's sake, although he
were sure to lose his liberty, estate or life. But leaving
war, loss, disfavour and preferment to worthy persons
and unjust states and princes,

I rest Madam,
Your faithful frierfd and servant.

240 The Duchess of Newcastle

OF PRAISE AND DISPRAISE

Madam, — ^Mrs, C. R. is very much troubled in her
mind with doubts and fears, since she hath heard that
the Lady S. P. did pubhckly and privately praise her,
for, she sayes, she is afraid the Lady S. P. hath ob-
served some error in her behaviour, or hath heard
her speak foolishly, or hath found out some decayes
of beauty in her face, or some deformities in her shape,
or some of the masculine sex have dispraised her
beauty, wit, person, behaviour, or the like. Otherwise,
sayes she, she is confident she would never have
praised her, for, sayes she, it is so unusual for one
woman to praise another, as it seems unnatural;
wherefore she doth not delight to be praised by her
own sex, and since that time she received your last
letter, she will sit in a silent musing posture, consider-
ing and examining her self, as searching to find out
what faults she hath, or what crimes she is guilty of,
that the Lady S. P. should praise her, and so peevish
and froward she is for it, as I believe she will never be
quiet or at rest and peace in her mind, until she hear
that the Lady S. P. hath spoken spitefully of her, or
hath dispraised her some wayes or other. The truth
is, she doth confess as much, for she sayes, she shall
never think her self handsome, conversable, nor
vertuous, but ill-favoured, foolish, base, or wicked,
unless she be dispraised by her own sex, wherefore
if you hear, as certainly you cannot chuse unless you
will stop your ears, any femal discommendations
concerning Mrs. C. R., pray send her word of them,
by which you will infinitely oblige her, and in the
mean time I shall endeavour to pacifie her thoughts,
and settle her mind in peace and quiet resting Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

Sociable Letters 241

OF DIVINITY AND DIVISION

Madam, — You were pleased to tell me in your last
letter, that there was a great and earnest dispute
between O. G. and C. O. in divinity, as to prove many
things which are easier to be believed than proved;
for though proof makes knowledge, jret belief doth
not make proof; for though many thousands of men
believe alike one thing or things, a thousand years,
yet neither the number of men, nor of years, doth prove
it to be true, it only proves that so many men did
believe it for so many years. For though there be
many things in Nature that may be conceived, and
demonstrated to reason, at least, to have a proba-
bility in reason, but cannot be demonstrated to the
senses, yet the conceptions do oftener deceive, not
onely the reason, but the senses, than the senses do
the reason or conception, for though the senses may
and are oftentimes mistaken and deluded, yet they
are the most certain and surest guides and informers
we have. But divinity is above all sense and reason,
as also all demonstrations, wherefore faith is required
in all religions ; for what cannot be conceived or appre-
hended, must be believed, and if the chief pillar of
religion is faith, men should believe more, and dispute
less, for disputations do argue weakness of faith, nay,
they make a strong faith faint, for all disputes in
divinity are enemies to faith, and are apt through
contradictions and different opinions, to destroy
religion, making the thoughts and mind atheisti-
cal, and the words sophistical, men spending more
time in disputing than praying, rather striving to
express their wit than to increase their knowledge,
for Divine mysteries are beyond all natural capacity,
and the schoolmen have rather taught men contra-

242 The Duchess of Newcastle

dictions than truth, and church-men rather division
than union. But all disputes and arguments in
divinity are onely fit for church -men, whose profes-
sion is to be teachers and instructors in the Divine
laws, and not for lay-men, unless they intend to be
church-men: for as all national laws have judges,
Serjeants, barresters, attornies, and the like, to
perform and execute the common and civil laws, that
have been prudently enacted for the good and benefit
of the bodily life and commonwealth; so there are
bishops, deans, deacons, parish-priests and curats,
to perform and execute the divine laws, which have
been spiritually enacted for the salvation of men's
souls; and as lawyers are informers of the national
laws, and pleaders of causes, so ministers are informers
of the divine laws, and teachers of good life, and all
spiritual causes should be decided by the bishops, as
all national or human causes by the judges. Otherwise,
there would be a confusion both in Church and state ;
wherefore those that are not of that profession, ought
not to meddle therewith, or dispute thereof, but to
submit to that which our fore-fathers thought fit
to enact, order, and dispose, for the good of their
successors, and succedent times; and so leaving
O. G. and C. O. to agree if they can,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful fr. and s.

ON THE LADY P. Y.'S PIETY

Madam, — ^As for the Lady P. Y. who, you say,
spends most of her time in prayer, I can hardly believe
God can be pleased with so many words, for what
shall we need to speak so many words to God, who

Sociable Letters 243

knows our thoughts, minds and souls, better than,
we do our selves ? Christ did not teach us long prayers,
but a short one, nay, if it were lawful for men to
simihze God to his creatures (which I think it is not),
God might be tired with long and tedious petitions
or often repetitions; but, Madam, good deeds are
better than good words, in so much as one good deed
is better than a thousand good words. As for example,
one act of upright justice, or pure charity, is better
than a book full of prayers, a temperate life is better
many times than a praying life; for we may be
intemperate even in our prayers, as to be superstitious
or idolatrous. Indeed every good deed is a prayer, for
we do good for God's sake, as being pleasing to Him,
for a chaste, honest, just, charitable, temperate life
is a devout life, and worldly labour is devout, as to
be honestly industrious to get and prudent to thrive,
that one may have wherewithal to give; for there
is no poor beggar, but had rather a penny than a
blessing, for they will tell you, that they shall starve
with Dieu vous assiste, but be relieved with a denar.
Wherefore the Lady P. Y. with her much fasting and
long praying will starve her self, and waste her life
out before the natural time, which will be a kind of
self-murder, and we hold self-murder the greatest
sinn, although it should be done in a pious form or
manner ; but to help a friend in distress is better and
more acceptable, than to pray for a friend in distress,
to relieve a beggar in want, is better than to pray for
him, to attend the sick is better than to pray for the
sick; but, you will say, both do well, I say it is well
said, and well when it is done, but the one must not
hinder the other, wherefore we ought not to leave the
world to pray, but to live in the world to act, as to
act to good uses, and 'tis not enough to give for the

244 The Duchess of Newcastle

poor, but to see that the poor be not cousened of
their gifts, wherefore they ought to distribute their
gifts themselves, and to be industrious to know and to
find out those that do truly and not feignedly want,
neither must their gifts make the poor idle, but set
the idle poor a-work, and as for those that cannot
work or help themselves, as the old, sick, decrepit,
and children, they must be maintained by those that
have means and strength and health to attend them.
But percha.nce if the Lady P. Y. heard me, she would
say, I was one of those that did speak more good
words, than act good deeds, or that I neither spent
my time in praying nor pious acting; indeed I cannot,
as the proud Pharisee, brag and boast of my good
deeds, but with the poor publican, I must say. Lord,
have mercy on me, a miserable sinner. Yet I must
say thus much truth of my self, that I never had
much to give; for before the warrs of this country
I was too young to be rich, or to have means in my
own power of disposing, and since the warrs all my
friends being so ruined, and my husband banished
from his native countrey, and dispossest of his
inherited estate, I have been in a condition rather to
receive, than to give: yet I have not done much of
either, for tiiily I am as glad not to receive, as sorry
not to give, for obligation is as great a burden to me,
as not be able to oblige is an unhappiness. Not that I
account it so great an unhappiness to be in such a
condition, as to be fit to receive, but to receive in such
a condition, as not to be able to return the obligation,
for the truth is, I had rather suffer for want, than
take to be relieved; but I thank God, I have not had
many of those burdens of obligations. Some few I
have had, but those were from my near relative
friends, not from strangers, which is a double, nay, a

Sociable Letters 245

treble blessing; but my condition is fitter for prayer,
as having not sufficient means to do good works, my
husband being robbed of all his estate, than the Lady
P. Ys. who hath saved all she can lay claim to;
wherefore, leaving her to her prayers of thanksgiving,
and I to prayers of petitioning,

I rest, Madam,
Your very faithful friend and servant.

A GOOD SERVANT

Madam, — I am sorry to hear you have lost so good
a servant as E. L. was, for she was faithful, trusty,
loving, humble, obedient, industrious, thrifty, and
quiet, harmlesly merry and free, yet full of respect
and duty, which few servants are in this age ; for most
are idle, cousening, wastful, crafty, bold, rude,
murmuring, factious and treacherous, and what not
that is evil ? But truly. Madam, the fault ought to be
laid on the ma.sters and mistresses, who either give
their servants ill examples by their evil or idle life,
or through a credulous trust, which is a temptation
to a poor servant, and it is a part of our prayer. Lead
us not into temptation ; or through a neglect of
governing, for there is an old true saying. The Master's
eye makes the horse fat ; or through a timorous fear
of commanding, for many masters are afraid to com-
mand a peremptory servant, being more in aw of the
servant than the servant of the master: or through
much clemency, giving their servants their wills so
much as they neglect their duties; or through their
prodigality, when to inrich their servants they make
themselves poor so as the servant becomes greater
than the master, which makes theni so proud, that

246 The Duchess ot Newcastle

they slight their commands and neglect their services,
forgetting who advanced them, and are apt to rebel
against them, just like the devils, when they were
angels, who perceiving they were so glorious creatures,
rebelled against their creator, and would be as Good
himself; just so are poor servants when their master
gives them fine cloaths to adorn them, or money to
inrich them, or offices to advance them, they streight
would be their masters, nay, they will envy their
master if they see him have any thing better than
they. This I have known by experience, but they
will not know it, untill they become to be like devils,
that is, in a miserable condition, which they deserve
for their ingratitude ; but a good servant is a treasure,
sayes Solomon ; and so I think is a good master to a
servant, if the servant have wit to perceive it. But a
good master is to know how to command, when to
command, and what to command; also when to
bestow, what to bestow, and how much to bestow on
a good servant ; also to fit servants to implo3nnents,
and imployments to servants ; also to know how and
when to restrain them, and when to give them liberty;
also to observe, which of his servants be fit to be ruled
with austerity or severity, and which with clemency,
and to reward and punish them properly, timely and
justly ; likewise when to make them work, and when to
let them play or sport ; as also when to keep them at
a distance, and when to associate himself with them.
And truly, I should sooner chuse to associate my self
with the company of my servants, had they good
breeding, or were capable to learn and imitate what
did belong to good behaviour, than with strangers,
for good servants are friends as well as servants, nay,
servants are a guard to their masters, for good and
faithfuU servants will dye for the safeguard of their

Sociable Letters 247

master's life, and they will indure any torments rather
than betray their masters; and it is the duty of ser-
vants so to do, for servants ow almost as much duty
to their masters, as children to their parents, or
subjects to their natural prince, for servants are not
only governed, but instructed, fed, and maintained;
and what greater crime is there, than to be a traitor
to their governor, tutor, and nourisher of their life ?
And every master, the meanest that is, is a father and
a king in his own family, wherefore to my reason they
are very unwise that will go out of their own dominions,
and leaving their own obedient subjects, which are
their servants, travel into other kingdoms, which are
other families, wherein they have neither power nor
obedience, leaving their own servants without rule or
guide; for when a master is from home, his family is
like a body without a head, like as a king should
travel into foreign countries, and leave his subjects
and kingdom and state-affairs at random, or to a
deputy, 'tis hkely his subjects would re bell against
him through dislike to the deputy, as scorning to be
ruled or governed by a fellow-subject, or else the
deputy will get away their love from their prince, and
then will strive to thrust the right owner out; the
same is with a master and his servants. Wherefore
a wise, loving master will keep home, and go no oftener
abroad than occasion requires, but will entertain
himself with his own family, and his family will
entertain him with sports and pastimes, like as sub-
jects do their princes, and whenas a servant doth
rebell, although the master hath not power to banish
him the country or kingdom, as princes have, yet
hath he power to turn him out of his service, and
banish him from his house, if his fault do deserve it ;
but some may think it strange, that there are as few

248 The Duchess of Newcastle

masters that know how to govern their families wisely,
as there are kings that know how to rule their king-
doms wisely; but that is no wonder, for first, where
there is one king of a kingdom, there are thousands
masters of families, and a king is the master of
all those families, insomuch as a king hath more
masters to govern and rule, than the richest master
of his kingdom hath servants. But if servants
were as they should be, masters would not only
thrive by the trusty labours of their servants, and
servants by the wealth of their master, but masters
and servants would live easily, by the diligence
of the one, and the prudence of the other; also
they would live delightfully, by their sports and
pastimes, where the master would sit as a kingly
spectator, whilst his servants were pleasant actors,
in all which both masters and servants would be
very happy, so as this world would seem an earthly
paradise. But, Madam, if I write any more, I shall go
near to make you a servant to your servant in a
laborious reading her long letter, but it was your
command in your last letter, that I should write you
long letters, and I believe in this I have fully obeyed
you, which is my desire to all your commands, to let
you know that there is none more truly and faithfully

Your Ladyship's servant than I.

ON HER EXTREME LOVE

Madam, — In your last letter you chid me for loving
too earnestly, saying, extreme love did consume my
body and torment my mind, and that whosoever
love to a high degree are fools ; if so, I confess. Madam,
I am as much a fool as ever Nature made, for where I

Sociable Letters 249

set my love, it is fixed like eternity, and is as full as
infinite. My love is not fixed suddenly, for it takes
experience and consideration to help to place it, both
which have been my guides and directors to love you,
which makes me love you much, and shall make me
love you long, if souls die not, and so I shall alwayes,
and in all occasions, be. Madam,

Your constant friend and humble servant.

OF SEVERAL SORTS OF WIT

Madam, — Since I writ to you that letter of the first
of the last month, I have several times conversed with
Mrs. R. E. and I find her wit runs in parts, like as
musick, where there must be several parties to play
or sing several parts; she is not a whole concert
her self, neither can she play the grounds of wit, but
yet she can make a shift to fill up a note ; and it is
to be observed, that wit in several persons runs on
several subjects, but few have general wits, as to
play musically upon every subject, especially without
making a fault; for I have known some, on some
particular subjects, will be wonderful witty, and on
others mere dunces and idiots. And for parts of wit,
some have gossiping wit, as midwife and nurse wit,
also wafer and hippocras wit, ale and cake wit, as in
christning, churching, lying in, and other gossipings;
others have bridal wit, gamesome wit, also gaming
wit, tavern- wit, brothel- wit, and some have court-
wit, which is a jeering scoffing wit ; but all these are
but scums or dregs of wit, onely scum- wit swims on
the top, which soon boyls over, and dreg-wit lies at
the bottom, and is hardly stirred without much
motion to raise it up. Thus several sorts of wit run

250 The Duchess of Newcastle

about amongst mankind, and Mrs. E. R. S. wit is a
platonick wit, as loving friendships, and the con-
versation of souls, but take her from the platonicks,
and she is gone, both from wit and understanding,
or those are gone from her ; and so leaving her to her
single-self, and her wit to her platonick-lover,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON MEN'S COURTESY TO WOMEN

Madam, — It requires experience, skill, and practice,
for men, civilly, yet courtly, to entertain and accom-
pany women in visiting, or the like; they must sit
within a respectful distance, with their hats off, and
begin a discourse, but let the women follow it, which
they will do until they are out of breath; also, they
must not interrupt them in their talk, but let them
speak as much, or as long as they will, or rather can,
for our will to talk is beyond our power. But though
we want not words, yet we want understanding and
knowledge to talk perpetually; neither must men
contradict women, although they should talk non-
sense, which oftentimes they do, but must seem to
applaud and approve, with gentle nods and bows, all
they say; also they must view their faces with
admiring eyes, although they were ill-favoured,
but those that are beautiful, their eyes must be fixed
on them, or else seem to be dazled; Hkewise they
must seem to start at their calls, and run with an
affrighted hast, to obey their commands. Such, and
many the like ceremonies and fooleries there are of this
kind from men to women, but these are rather from
strangers than domestick acquaintance. Wherefore

Sociable Letters 251

setting aside antick follies, yet a civil respect and
regard is due to the female sex from the masculine,
even from the greatest to the meanest ; and so leaving
men to their constrained civilities and feigned
admirations,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON HER RETURN FROM ABROAD

Madam, — ^Now we be both returned into our native
country, let us meet to re Joyce together, for though
our husbands have lost much, yet the broken parts
of their estates they have recovered by the just laws
of this kingdom, will afford us some recreation, pas-
time, and harmless sports. As for the place of our
meeting, if I may advise, it shall be N. whose owner
is M. N. a person that hath lost the most of any
subject, yet he is the best contented, and so the
happiest, for he never troubles himself for any
worldly wealth, especially when he cannot tell
honestly which way to repair his estate ; and though
he be wisely prudent, yet he is not basely miserable,
as to be miserably sparing, but will entertain us
civilly, friendly, generously, pleasantly, delightfully.
So expecting when you will appoint the time,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful fr. and s.

HYMEN'S SHOPS

Madam, — I cannot wonder that Mrs. F. G. is so
desirous of a husband, for I observe, that all un-
married women, both maids and widows, are the like,

252 The Duchess of Newcastle

insomuch that there are more customers that go to
Hymen's markets, which are churches, playes, balls,
masks, marriages, etc. than there are husbands to be
sold, and all prices are bidden there, as beauty,
birth, breeding, wit and virtue, though virtue is a
coin whereof is not much; but husbands are so scarce,
especially good ones, as they are at such great rates,
that an indifferent price will not purchase any one.
Wherefore those that will buy them, must be so rich
as to be able to bestow an extraordinary price of
beauty, birth, breeding, wit or virtue, and yet much
ado to purchase any one, nay, some cannot be had
without all those joyned into one; but Venus 's
markets, which are also publick meetings (for all
markets are publick) are so well stored of all sorts
and degrees of titles, professions, ages, and the like,
as they are as cheap as stinking mackrel, and all coins
are current there, but virtue, wherefore that is ever
offered. 'Tis true, the markets of Venus and Hymen
are in one and the same city or place, yet H5mien and
Venus sell apart, like as several grasiers bring their
beasts to one market or fair; I call them several
markets, to make a distinction of which belongs to
Hymen, and which to Venus; but for better distinc-
tion's sake, I will put them into shops apart, or into
as many pews in one church, or compare them to
several scenes in one mask, several acts in one play;
for as many stalls or shops there are in one market,
and several magistrates in one city, so many shops
hath Hymen and Venus in one market; but the
cheapest that are to be sold out of Hymen's shops,
are young novices; and although there is much
scarcity in Hymen's shops, yet the price of gold or such
riches, if they be offered, buyes any man that is
there to be sold, which are batchelours and wid-

Sociable Letters 253

dowers, for there's no married man in Hymen's
shops, unless unknown that they were bought before,
and once discovered, they are punished, for married
men can neither be bought nor sold by Hymen or
his customers, until they be widowers ; but in Venus's
shops there be as many, if not more, married men than
batchelours or widowers. But both in Hymen's and
Venus's shops there are of all sorts, better and worse,
as mean persons and others of quality, handsom and
not handsom, old and young, and of middle years;
and as for women, few are sold in shops, for they are
the buyers, and married women are the best cus-
tomers Venus hath; and though married women go
to the publick market, which are publick meetings,
as fine as they can be drest, and to the publick view,
out of pretence to meet there, and speak with such
of their friends that are Hymen's customers, as also
to help those friends to choose and bargain for a
husband, or to keep them company, yet when they
go to Venus's shops they go covered with their veils,
or rather follies, for fear thev should be known of
their husbands that lye there to be sold ; for though
they go uncovered to Hjonen's shops, as with their
friends, to assist them, yet to Venus's shops they
go alone. Thus married and unmarried take some
occasion to be at the market, and thus there is more
trade, traffick, and commerce, in this market than
in any other; but such persons as will live single
and chast, never come there, unless some few; and
this sort of persons for the most part live in Diana's
court, which are cloisters or monasteries; also some
few married wives that live retired, do not frequent
this market, but if they do, they never come into any
of the shops, but stand in the midst of the market-
place, that it may be known they buy nothing there ;

254 The Duchess of Newcastle

but Madam, I will leave this discourse, for though
I am one of H^onen's subjects, being a married wife,
yet I am none of Venus 's customers, but Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

THE PLAGUE

Madam, — I am sorry the plague is much in the city
you are in, as I hear, and fear your stay will indanger
j^our life, for the plague is so spreading and penetrating
a disease, as it is a malignant contagion, and dilates
it self throughout a city, nay, many times, from city
to city, all over a kingdom, and enters into every
particular house, and doth arrest almost every par-
ticular person with death, at least, layes grievous
sores upon them; indeed great plagues are death's
harvest, where he reaps down lives like ears of corn;
wherefore. Madam, let me perswade you to remove,
for certainly life is so pretious, as it ought not to be
ventured, where there is no honour to be gained in
the hazard ; for death seems terrible, I am sure it doth
to me. There is nothing I dread more than death, I
do not mean the strokes of death, nor the pains, but
the oblivion in death, I fear not death's dart so much
as death's dungeon, for I could willingly part with
my present life, to have it redoubled in after memory,
and would wilhngly die in my self, so I might live
in my friends. Such a life have I with you, and you
with me, our persons being at a distance, we hve to
each other no otherwise than if we were dead, for
absence is a present death, as memory is a future
life ; and so many friends as remember me, so many
lives I have, indeed so many brains as remember me,
so many lives I have, whether they be friends or foes.

Sociable Letters 255

onely in my friends' brains I am better entertained;
and this is the reason I retire so much from the sight
of the world, for the love of life and fear of death:
for since nature hath made our bodily lives so short,
that if we should hve the full period, it were but like
a flash of lightning, that continues not, and for the
most part leaves black obhvion behind it ; and since
Nature rules the bodily life, and we cannot live
alwayes, nor the bounds of Nature be inlarged, I am
industrious to gain so much of Nature's favour, as to
enable me to do some work, wherein I may leave my
idea, or hve in an idea, or my idea may hve in many
brains ; for then I shall live as Nature hves amongst
her creatures, which onely lives in her works, and is
not otherwise known but by her works. We cannot
say, she lives personally amongst her works, but
spiritually within her works; and naturally I am so
ambitious, as I am restless to Hve, as nature doth, in
aU ages, and in every brain ; but though I cannot hope
to do so, yet it shall be no neglect in me; and as I
desire to live in every age, and in every brain, so I
desire to live in every heart, especially in your Ladi-
ship's, wherein I beheve I do already, and wish I may
live long. Wherefore for my own sake, as well as
yours, let me intreat you to remove out of that
plaguy city, for if you die, all those friends you leave,
or think of, or remember, partly die with you, nay,
some perchance for ever, if they were personally dead
before, and onely live in your memory; wherefore,
as you are a noble lady, have a care of your friends,
and go out of that city as soon as you can, in which
you will oblige all those you favour, or that love
you, amongst which there is none more truly, faith-
fully, and fervently, your friend and servant, than.
Madam, I, ^ M. N.

256 The Duchess of Newcastle

THE SPIRITUAL SISTER

Madam, — ^Yesterday Mrs. P. I. was to visit me,
who prayed me to present her humble service to you,
but since you saw her she is become an altered woman,
as being a sanctified soul, a spiritual sister, she hath
left curling her hair, black patches are become
abominable to her, laced shoes and galoshoes are
steps to pride, to go bare-necked she accounts worse
than adultery; fans, ribbons, pendants, necklaces,
and the like, are the temptations of Satan, and the
signs of damnation ; and she is not onely transformed
in her dress, but her garb and speech, and all her dis-
course, insomuch as you would not know her if you
saw her, unless you were informed who she was ; she
speaks of nothing but Heaven and purification, and
after some discourse, she asked me what posture I
thought was the best to be used in prayer? I said,
I thought no posture was more becoming, nor did fit
devotion better, than kneeling, for that posture did
in a manner acknowledge from whence we came, and
to what we shall return, for the Scripture says from
earth we came, and to earth we shall return; then
she spoke of prayers, for she is all for extemporary
prayers, I told her, that the more words we used in
prayer, the worse they were accepted, for I thought
a silent adoration was better accepted of God than
a self-conceited babbling; then she asked me if I
thought one might not be refined, by tempering their
passions and appetites, or by banishing the worst
of them from the soul and body, to that degree, as to
be a deity, or so divine as to be above the nature of
man; I said no, for put the case that men could turn
brass or iron, or such gross metals, into gold, and
refine that gold unto its height of purity, yet it would

Sociable Letters 257

be but a metal still; so likewise the most refined man
would be but human still, he would be still a man, and
not a God ; nay, take the best of godly men, such as
have been refined by grace, prayer, and fasting, to a
degree of saints, yet they were but human and men
still, so long as the body and soul were joyned to-
gether, but when these were separated, what the soul
would be, whether a God, a devil, a spirit, or nothing,
I could not tell; with that she lifted up her eyes, and
departed from me, believing I was one of the wicked
and reprobate, not capable of a saving grace, so as
I believe she will not come near me again, lest her
purity should be defiled in my company, I believe
the next news we shall hear of her, will be, that she
is become a preaching sister; I know not what
oratory the spirit will inspire her with, otherwise
I believe she will make no eloquent sermons, but I
think those of her calhng do defie eloquence, for the
more nonsense they deHver, the more they are
admired by their godly fraternity. But leaving her
to her self-denying, I return to acknowledge my self.
Madam,

Your very faithful friend and servant.

ON MODE-MINDS

Madam, — I have observed, there are amongst
mankind as often mode phrases in speech as mode
fashions in cloaths and behaviour, and so moded
they are, as their discourse is as much deckt with
those phrases as their cloaths with several coloured
ribbands, or hats with feathers, or bodyes with
affected motions, and whosoever doth discourse out
of the mode, is as much despised, as if their cloaths

I

258 The Duchess of Newcastle

or behaviours were out of fashion, they are accounted
fools or ill-bred persons ; indeed most men and women
in this age, in most nations in Europe, are nothing
but mode, as mode -minds, mode-bodyes, mode-
appetites, mode - behaviours, mode - cloaths, mode-
pastimes or vices, mode-speeches and conversations,
which is strange to have minds according to the mode,
as to have a mode-judgment, for all will give their
judgments and opinions according to the mode, and
they love and hate according to the mode, they are
couragious or cowardly according to the mode,
approve or dislike according to the mode, nay, their
wits are according to the mode, as to rallery, clinch,
buffonly jest, and the like, for better wit is not usually
the mode, as being alwayes out of fashion amongst
mode-gallants, but true and good wit Hves with the
seniors of the time. Such as regard not the mode, but
chuse or prefer what is best, and not what is most in
fashion, unless that which is best be in fashion, which
is very seldom if ever known for that which is best or
good, is not general, especially wit, for the right, true
and best wit keeps to particulars, as being understood
by particulars ; some modes have oftener wit in their
mouths than in their brains, that is, they speak the
wit of others, but have none of their own. But grave,
experienced and wise men give their judgment or
opinion, not according to the mode or fashion, but
according to probabihty, sense and reason; neither
do they say, such or such a thing will or shall be, or is
so, why ? because it is the general opinion, but they
say, such or such a thing may be, or 'tis Hkely will be,
or is so, why? because there is a probability or
reason for it: neither do the just and wise hate or
love, approve or dislike, because it is the mode, as to
hate what is not generally loved, or love what is not

Sociable Letters 259

generally hated, or to despise what is generally dis-
liked, or admire what is generally commended, but
they hate what is really bad, wicked, or base, and not
what is thought so: and love what is really good,
vertuous and worthy, not for the general opinion, but
for the truth, and they admire and commend, despise
or scorn, dislike or disapprove that which is despisable
or discommendable or scornable, and so the like;
neither are they couragious or cowardly according
to the mode, but they are vaUant or cautious accord-
ing to the cause or quarrel; they do not fight out of
or in a bravado, but for honour, or in honour's quarrel ;
nor do they pass by injury or cover an anger or
affront with a raillery or jest, but because the person
that did the injury, or gave the affront, was either
drunk, mad, or base, inferiour person, fitter for his
man's quarrel than for his own ; and for wise men, they
speak not with mode-phrases, but such words as are
most plain to be understood, and the best to deliver
or declare sense and reason, and their behaviours are
those which are most manly and least apish, fantasti-
cal or constrained; and their clothes are such as are
most useful, easie and becoming; neither do their
appetites relish mode-meats or sauces, because they
have the mode haut goust, but they relish best what
is most pleasing or savoury to their taste ; and so for
drinks compounded, as chocolata, limmonada, and
the like, they will not drink them because of the
mode; neither do they affect mode-songs or sounds,
because they are in fashion to be sung or played, but
because they are well-set tunes, or well-composed
musick, or witty songs, and well sung by good voices,
or well plaid on instruments; neither do not follow
mode-vices or vanities for fashion, but for pleasure,
or their own humour or fancy; nor do^they use those

2 6o The Duchess of Newcastle

exercises that are in mode, but those they like best.
Thus a wise man follows not the mode, but his own
humour, for if it be the mode to play at tennis, or
paille-maille, or the like, if he Hke better to ride or
fence, he will let alone the mode-exercises and use
his own; if it be the mode-pastime to play at cards
or dice, if he like better to write or read, he will leave
the mode-pastime and follow his own; and if it be
the mode-custom to dine and sup, and meet at ordin-
aries or taverns, if he like better to sup and dine at
home alone, he will not go to ordinaries or taverns;
if it be the mode to make general courtships, if he
like, or is better pleased with a particular mistress,
he will not follow the mode ; neither will he ride post
because it is the mode but because his affairs require
it; neither will he journey from place to place to no
purpose, because it is the mode, but will wisely sit
still or rest at his own home, because it is easie, peace-
able, quiet, and prudent, as not so chargeable. But
leaving the modists to their mode - clothes, oaths,
phrases, courtships, behaviours, garbs and motions,
to their mode -meats, drinks, pastimes, exercises,
pleasures, vanities and vices; to their mode-songs,
tunes, dances, fiddles and voices; to their mode-
judgements, opinions and wits; to their mode-
quarrels and friendships, to their mode-lying and
dissembhng,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant,

PRAISE AND DISPRAISE

Madam, — I was reading to-day some several satyrs
of several famous poets, wherein I find, that they
praise themselves, and dispraise all others, which.

Sociable Letters 261

expresses a great self-dotage, and a very ill nature;
besides, they seem more covetous than generous, to
desire all the praise, and to give their neighbour not
any; in truth, writers should never speak of them-
selves, but in praefatory epistles, or in a history of
their own lives, wherein they may freely declare their
own acts and opinions. But, Madam, I wish that all
writers would use their pens as your noble Lord and
husband orders his discourse in speech, to speak the
best of all men, and to bury their faults in silence,
which would make virtue an emulation, and faults
such a novelty, as men would be ashamed to commit
them. Whereas declaring former faults, causes prece-
dent faults no strangers, nay, it causeth precedent
faults to be more confident and active; but, Madam,
you are so innocent and harmless, as you are not
acquainted with the faults of others, for which I am,
Madam,

Your must humble servant and faithful friend.

A PREACHING SISTER

Madam, — ^Since I last writ to you, I have been to
hear Mrs. P. N. preach, for now she is, as I did believe
she would be, viz. a preaching sister. There were a
great many holy sisters and holy brethren met
together, where many took their turns to preach, for
as they are for liberty of conscience, so they are for
liberty of preaching, but there were more sermons
than learning, and more words than reason, Mrs.
P. N. began, but her sermon I do not well remember,
and after she had sighed and winded out her devotion,
a holy brother stood up and preached thus, as I shall
briefly relate to you.

262 The Duchess of Newcastle

" "Dearly beloved brethren and sisters, we are
gathered together in the Lord with purity of spirit to
preach his word amongst us. We are the chosen and
elect children of the Lord who have glorified spirits
and sanctified souls, we have the spirit of God in us,
v/hich inspires us to pray and to preach, as also to call
upon his name and to remember him of his promise
tounite andgather us together unto his New Jerusalem,
separating us from reprobates, that we may not be
defiled with their presence, for you, dear brethren,
know by the spirit, that they are not the children of
the Lord but Satan's children, they are the children
of darkness, we the children of light, we are glorified
and sanctified by supernatural grace, we are a peculiar
people, and the holy prophets of the Lord, to fore-see,
fore-tell, and declare his will and pleasure, also we are
to incourage and comfort the saints in afiiictions and
times of tribulation and consolation, and to help them
to present their sanctified sighs, tears and groans unto
the Lord; but the spirit moveth me to pray and to
leave off preaching, wherefore let us pray unto the
Lord."

So after the holy brother had done his prayer,
Mr. N. N. who was there, pulled off his peruick, and
put on a night-cap, wherein he appeared so like a holy
brother as they took him for one of their sect, and
he preached this following sermon :

" Dearly beloved brethren. We are here met in a
congregation together, some to teach, others to learn;
but neither the teaching nor learning can be any other
way but natural and according to human capacitie, for
we cannot be coelestial whilst we are terrestrial,
neither can we be glorified whilst we are mortal and
subject to death, nor yet can we arrive to the purity
of saints or angels, whilst we are subject to natural

Sociable Letters 263

imperfections both in body and mind, but there are
some men that believe they are, or at least may be
so pure in spirit by saving grace, as to be sanctified,
and to be so much filled with the Holy Ghost as to
have spiritual visions, and ordinarily to have con-
versation with God, believing God to be a common
companion to their idle imaginations. But this
opinion proceeds from an extraordinary self-love,
self-pride, and self-ambition, as to believe they are
the only fit companions for God himself, and that not
any of God's creatures are or were worthy to be
favoured, but they, much less to be made God's privy
counsel, as they believe they are, as to know his will
and pleasure, his decrees and destinies, which indeed
are not to be known, for the creator is too mighty
for a creature to comprehend him, wherefore let us
humbly pray to what we cannot conceive."

But before he had quite ended his sermon, the holy
flock began to bustle, and at last went quite out of the
room, so that he might have prayed by himself had not
I and two or three ladies more that were of my com-
pany, stayed ; and when he had done his short prayer,
he told me and the other ladies, that he had done that
which the great counsel of state could not do, for he
had by one short discourse dispersed a company of
sectaries without noise or disturbance. But at last
we dispersed our selves to our own houses, although
Mr. N. N. would have given us a ball after a sermon,
but I was so tyred with the one, as I was not fit for
the other, for we were from morning till evening to
hear them preach, yet as tyred and weary as I am I
could not chuse but repeat these two of their shortest
sermons which I heard, and so I subscribe myself,
Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

264 The Duchess of Newcastle

ON THE GRANDEUR OF NOBLE PERSONS

Madam,— The Lady G. R. and the Lady A. N. in
a visiting meeting, fell into a discourse of great princes
and noble persons, where the Lady G. R. said, that
great princes and noble persons should or ought to
have a grandeur in their behaviours, habits, dis-
courses, attendance, life and renown, as to their
persons, garments, speech, ceremony, actions and
fame, according to their titles, births and fortunes.
Nay, said the Lady A. N. not according to fortune, for
misfortune or ill fortune knocks grandeur down, and
makes it lye as dead, also age doth lessen it: the
Lady G. R. said, that true grandeur did ride in triumph
upon misfortune's back; for though ill fortune might
degrade noble persons of wealth, and poverty degrade
them of ceremony, yet the right grandeur of true
noble persons would appear through raggs, and their
low condition Hke as the sun, which though it could
not shine cleer and bright through thick, black clouds,
yet it made day in that hemisphere it moved in, for a
dark day is not night. So, although ill fortune may
darken the grandeur of noble persons, yet it cannot
benight it; and as for age, said she, it is so far from
lessening grandeur as it gives it addition for true
noble and heroick persons, their very shadows do
appear with a majestical grandeur, and their fame
sounds with a solemn renown, both to beget respect,
reverence, and honour in the eyes, ears and minds of
all persons, in despite of fortune or time, for grandeur,
said she, lives both in the ashes and fame of noble,
worthy, and gallant persons. But leaving their dis-
course together with their visit,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful servant and friend.

Sociable Letters 265

ON PARAPHRASING THE SCRIPTURES

Madam, — ^You were pleased to tell me in your last
letter, that you had spent most of the morning in
reading a new work, which is highly commended,
viz. paraphrases on the life of some of the holy pro-
phets and kings : I cannot say but it may be pleasing
to read, but I doubt whether it will be well to write
it ; for whosoever doth heighten the sacred scriptures,
by poetical expressions, doth translate it to the nature
of a romance ; for the ground of a romance is for the
most part truth, but upon those truths are feignings
built ; and certainly the Scripture and feignings ought
not to be mixed together, for so holy a truth ought
not to be expressed fabulously; wherefore in my
opinion no subject is so unfit for poetical fancies as
the Scripture, for though poetry is divine, yet it ought
not to obstruct and obscure the truth of sacred histori-
cal prose. 'Tis true, divine poetical raptures, such as
David's psalms, are commendable and admirable,
being an effect of a devout soul, and zealous spirit,
which flames into poetical raptures, and is inspired
with a divine influence, delivering it self through
harmonious numbers, sympathetical rithmes, elegant
phrases, and eloquent language ; all which is presented
to God from the heart, as an offering, or sacrifice of
thanksgiving, or an imploring of mercy, or an humble
acknowledgment of sins, and promise of amendment,
which sacred poems are expressed in a tragic vein
concerning sins, and in a comick vein concerning
blessings, and poets in their morning hymns are like
the larks that begin the day, and in their evening
hymns like the nightingals which begin the night.
Thus divine poets are Heaven's birds, that sing to

12

266 The Duchess of Newcastle

God, and their divine poems are their brood, which
are kept in the cage of memory, and sing their parents*
notes to after ages. But, Madam, perchance you will
think I am peremptory, to give my opinion of the
poet's work before I see it; but I give my opinion
only upon the ground of his work, which is the Scrip-
ture, saying, it ought not to be paraphrased. Besides,
I give it from my conscience, not from my conceited
brain, and perchance I may alter my opinion, upon
more rational arguments from those that are more
learned and knowing than my self, and if your opinion
differs from mine, pray send it me in your next letter;
for I would willingly be of your opinion believing
you cannot err, nor can I, in expressing my self.
Madam,

Your very faithful friend and devoted servant.

THE CONTAGION OF GOSSIPING

Madam, — In your last letter you say, that the Lady
G. P. carried a letter she received from Mrs. O. B.
from company to company to jest at, because it was
not indited after the courtly phrase but after the old
manner and way, beginning thus. After my hearty
commendation, hoping you are in good health, as I am
at the writing hereof ; this is to let you understand, etc.
But I know not why any body should jest at it, for
'tis friendly to send commendations, and to wish them
good health, and certainly friendly and kind expres-
sions are to be preferred before courtly complements,
the first sounds hke real truth, the other may be
demonstrated to be feigning, for all complements
exceed the truth. 'Tis true, the style of letters alters
and changes as the fashion of clothes doth, but

Sociable Letters 267

fashions are not alwayes changed for more com-
modious or becoming, but for the sake of variety, for
an old fashion may be more useful and graceful than
a modern fashion: but I believe the Lady G, P.
carried Mrs. O. B.'s letter about with her for a pre-
tence to visit company, like as gossips do cakes and
other junkets to their neighbours, the junkets increas-
ing the company, and the company the junkets, so the
Lady G. P. out of a luxury to talk and company, like
as other gossips, out of a luxury to talking and eating,
carried the letter, to show her several acquaintance
sport, to get other acquaintance, and if she had not
had that letter, 'tis likely she would have found some
other pretence rather than have stayed at home.
Indeed, one may say, that in this age there is a malig-
nant contagion of gossiping, for not onely one woman
infects another, but the women infect the men, and
then one man infects another, naj^ it spreads so much,
as it takes hold even on young children, so strong and
infectious is this malignity. But if any will avoid it,
they must every morning anount the soles of their
feet with the oyl of slackness, and bath every limb in
a bath of rest ; then they must put into their ears some
drops of quiet, to strengthen the brain against vapour-
ous noise, and stop their ears with a little wool of
deafness, to keep out the wind of idle discourse ; also
they must wash their eyes with the water of obscurity,
lest the glaring light of vanity should v/eaken them,
and they must take some electuary of contemplation,
which is very soverain to comfort the spirits, and they
must drink cooHng julips of discretion, which are
good against the fever of company, and if they take
some jelly of restraint, they will find it to be an
excellent remedy against this mahgnity. Onely they
must take great care lest they be too relax to per-

268 The Duchess of Newcastle

suasion, but rather so restringent as to be obstinate
from entering into a concourse; for there is nothing
more dangerous in all mahgnant diseases, than throngs
or crowds of people ; and this is the best preparative
against the plague of gossiping. But for fear with
writing too long a letter I should fall into that disease,
I take my leave, and rest. Madam,

Your very faithful friend and servant.

ON THE LORD W. N.'S WIT

Madam,— Here was the Lord W. N. to visit me,
whose discourse, as you say, is like as a pair of billows
to a spark of fire in a chimney, where are coals or
wood, for as this spark would sooner go out than
inkindle the fuel, if it were not blown, so his discourse
doth set the hearers brain on a light flame, which heats
the wit, and inUghtens the understanding. The truth
is, great wits might be thought, or seem fools, if they
had not wit to discourse, but the greatest wits that
are, or ever were, cannot discourse wittily, unless they
either imagine or else have a real witty opposite to
discourse wittily to; Uke as those that can skilfully
fence, cannot fence, unless they have an opposite to
fence with ; or like as those that can skilf uUy play at
tennis, cannot play, unless they have a skilful oppo-
site; they may toss the ball, but not play a game.
The same is in conversation and discourse; there is
none can discourse well, wisely, or wittily, but with
wise, and witty opposites, otherwise their discourse
will be extravagant, and as it were, out of time or
season: but the Lord W. N.'s wit is a well-seasoned
wit, both for reason, time and company, to which I
leave him, and rest. Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

Sociable Letters 269

ON FASHIONS AND THEIR SEASONS

Madam, — I should take it for a favour, if you would
be pleased to send me that new-fashioned garment
you mentioned in your last letter; not that I think to
make use of the fashion, for I take more pleasure to
devise a fashion than to follow it, but only to satisfie
my curiosity. I would see it, whether it be a fashion
for use, or ease, or becoming, or for grandeur; for
fashions of use are for the several seasons of the year,
as also for several actions, for those fashions that are
proper for dancing, are not proper for riding; as for
example, pumps are of no use a horseback, nor boots,
nor spurs in a galliard, or courant, unless it were to
tear the ladies gown the man dances withall, for he
cannot well cut a caper in a pair of boots and spurs,
nor a horseman spur a horse with a pair of pumps,
but spurs would be as hawks' bells in dancing, especi-
ally if they were gingling spurs ; yet men either riding
a horseback, or dancing on a carpet might wear
feathers in their hats, for the head is not imployed so
much in those actions as the heels, only a feather is a
fashion of no use, but merely for grace and becoming.
Many other fashions I could repeat for use, and action,
but it were too tedious. As for the fashions for the
seasons of the year, in winter, sable skins, or meaner
fur, to wear about the neck, and muffs, are both
graceful and useful as to keep one from cold ; and for
summer, fans, to cool the sultry heat, and to shadow
the face from the sun, who seems to be an enemy to
beauty, and strives to burn it off, wherefore it may
be thought envious; such, and many other several
fashions there are, according to the several seasons
of the year. Besides, there are fashions for ease, which

270 The Duchess of Newcastle

religious persons use, as only a loose garment, tied
loosly about their wast, wherein is neither much
curiosity in making, nor labour in dressing, nor pain
in wearing, it is quickly put on, and as quickly pulled
off, a garment fit for a solitary and studious life,
wherein must be no incumbrances on the body, to
obstruct, or hinder the contemplations of the mind;
also there be fashions of grandeur, which are more
for grace and becoming, than for ease, or use, as
gowns with long trains, streight bodies, heavy im-
broyderies and laces, jewels in the ears, and many
the like, high-heeled shoes, boot-hoses, feathers, roses,
hatbands, and many more, which are requisite for
grace and becoming. Again, there are fashions to
distinguish persons, as to know a priest, a lawyer, a
mayor and his aldermen, a constable, and many other
several professions and officers ; and thus there should
also be degrees to distinguish the nobles from the
commons, but the commons have incroched so much
upon the nobles' prerogative of fashions, as all
fashions are common amongst them; also there are
fashions for times of mirth, and fashions for times of
mourning, for publick meeting and nuptials, as also
for weeping funerals; but fashions of grandeur are
fit only for courts, at masks, plays, balls, and trium-
phant shews ; fashions of cavalry are proper for the
field in time of war, as for commanders or generals;
fashions of distinguishments are fit for cities, as for
magistrates, officers, professions, trades, and the like;
fashions of ease are fittest for cloisters, and a private
country life ; and fashions of use are fit for all sorts,
degrees, professions or qualities; but fashions that
are neither useful, easie, proper, becoming, nor grace-
ful ought to be banished, if any such there be. But,
Madam, I shall discourse so long of fashions, as I shall

Sociable Letters 271

forget your patience, and make you so angry as to
fling this letter into the fire, and so burn all the gar-
mental fashions in my letter, where if all fashions
could be as easily consiuned as my letter, you would
leave the world of mankind naked, unless they would
cloth themselves with beasts' skins, or fig-leaves,
which would soon become a fashion too, if once worn :
wherefore lest I should be stript of your favour, I
will leave the repetition of fashions, and rest. Madam,
Your verv faithful friend and servant.

MY MISTRESS, TRUTH

Madam, — In your last letter you desired me to
write some letters of complement, as also some pane-
gyricks, but I must intreat you to excuse me, for my
style in writing is too plain and simple for such courtly
works; besides, give me leave to inform you, that I
am a servant to truth and not to flattery ; although
confess, I rather lose than gain in my mistress's ser-
vice, for she is poor and naked, and hath not those
means to advance her servants as flattery hath, who
gives plenty of words, and is prodigal of praise, and
is clothed in a flourishing style, imbroydered with
oratory. But my mistress, Truth, hath no need of
such adornings, neither doth she give many words,
and seldom any praise, so as her servants have not
any thing to live on or by, but mere honesty which
rather starves than feeds any creature; yet, howso-
ever, I being bred in her service from my youth, will
never quit her till death takes me away ; and if I can
serve you by serving her, command me, and I shall
honestly obey you, and so rest. Madam,

Your faithful fr. and s.

272 The Duchess of Newcastle

THE LADY S. K. AND HER AILMENTS

Madam, — The Lady S. K. presents her service to
you ; truly she is not well, although not so sick, as forced
to keep her bed ; I knownot howto judge of her disease,
for she is both lean and fat, like as the idol mentioned
in the Holy Scripture, which was partly clay, partly
stone, and partly metal, onely, as I remember, its
feet and legs were made of clay, whereas her feet and
legs are all bone, for they are so wasted, as they have
no flesh on them ; but her hips, body, and breast are
so fleshy and fat, as one may think she had no bones,
by reason none can be seen, or felt; and her arms,
hands, neck, and face are so pale and lean, that they
appear white as silver, and for want of blood and flesh,
they are so dry, as they are so rough as unpolished
stone ; and with her sickness she is become so melan-
choly as she appears like a dead image, or senseless
idol. But her real virtue, and noble soul, and honour-
able life, hath made her more worthy of human
worship, than the signifying fore-mentioned idol, or
image, his idolatrous, divine worship, and she is
more worthy to be set up on an altar of fame, than
such idols on an altar of religion, and to have praises,
though not prayers, offered to her. Thus she may
be worshipped as a goddess, without superstitious
idolatry, and have virtuous devours; but yet she
desires she may have the best doctor's advice for her
health, wherefore she intreats you to send her the
most renowned doctors of physick that are in your
city, she will not spare cost, if they have skill, but
pay them for their advice; for doctors sell their
knowledge, and patients buy healths, and their
knowledge is a staple - commodity, for the more

Sociable Letters 273

knowledge doctors of physick sell, the more knowledge
they get for experience of diseases ; and so all things
come in more by practice than by study, and health
gains more by temperance, exercise, and air, than by
physick; and so adding my prayers to her temper-
ance, the doctor's skill, and physick,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE PLANETS

Madam, — I am not of the opinion, that the planets
have an influence or power on the fortunes, or any
outward accidents of men, as that such shall be
slaves, and such kings, such be rich, and such
poor, such be killed in the wars, and such drowned,
or killed with a stone falling on their heads; such
be burnt, such hanged, and such escape those and
the like dangers; such men and women shall love,
and marry, and such not ; also how many husbands
such a woman shall have, and such a one shall have
none, and so for men, mistresses, and wives, for
advancement and disgraces, honours and dignities,
of&ces and authorities, and for all manner of fortunes
or accidents, I say, I beheve the planets are not the
causes of these outward effects. But as I believe the
stars and planets have an influence upon the bodies
of men, as their bodies have on the planets and ele-
ments, so they may have an influence upon the
humours in the body, as upon phlegm, choler, melan-
choly, blood, and the like, and they may work effects
either for health, sickness, pains, and sores, rheums,
and the like. But I am in dispute with my self,
whether they also have an influence, or work several

274 T*^^ Duchess of Newcastle

effects upon the minds of men, as upon their bodies;
and when I consider the various inconstancies of
men's minds, and the alterations and changes which
are in men's minds, I think they are moved and altered
according to the motions, and influences, and effects
of each planet, or star. For if we do observe, not
only their thoughts, passions, and affections vary
and alter minutely, hourly, daily, weekly, monthly,
and yearly, but also their capacities, conceptions,
judgments, understandings, opinions, and wit; for
most have deeper capacities, higher conceptions,
sounder judgments, clearer understandings, probabler
opinions, and quicker wits, at some, than at other
times . As at some times they may be thought wisemen
and at other times mere fools, sometimes they will
speak very wittily, at other times mere nonsense, or
at least, words without wit, sometimes they will be
able to give as wise counsel as Nestor, Ulysses, or
Achitophel, at other times, they are neither able to
give, nor to take counsel; sometimes they conceive,
and understand readily and clearly, whatsoever is
conceivable and understandable by mankind, at other
times they are as if they had not sense and reason;
the like for the qualities, passions, affections, and
virtues of the mind; as at some times they are very
vahant, at other times mere cowards; sometimes
nobly generous, other times basely covetous; some-
times uprightly just, other times wrongfully unjust;
sometimes very compassionate, other times very cruel,
or uncharitable; sometimes so angry, as to be so
furious that none dare speak to them, at other times
so patient, as to suffer any one to pull them by the
nose; sometimes they love to death, and sometimes
they hate to death, one and the same thing; and this
is usual, and general amongst mankind, which makes

Sociable Letters 275

me lean to the opinion, that the stars and the planets
have an influence upon the minds of men ; but I am
absolutely of the opinion, that they have no influence
or power on the educations of mankind, no more
than they have on the fortunes or accidents of and to
mankind. For in those men that are educated
thoroughly well, and wisely, the effects of education
are too strong for the effects of the stars or planets,
so that some men may be constantly prudent, just,
valiant, generous, understanding, judicious, witty,
and wise. Also the effects of education, and the
effects of the planets, may be crossing, and opposing
each other, and then the strongest effects bear away
the victory, whether to good or ill; and this is the
reason of long debates, doubts, and considerations, ere
some men come to conclusions or resolutions; and
truly, I think the senses have as great an influence upon
the mind, as the stars and planets have, as fair ob-
jects, melodious sounds, sweet savours, and delicious
touches, have as great an influence upon the mind,
and cause as various and strong effects, as the stars
and planets do, or can. But leaving the stars,
planets, education, and the senses to their influences,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON HER PLAYS

Madam, — I heard the ship was drowned, wherein
the man was that had charge and care of my playes,
to carry them into E. to be printed, I being then in A.
which when I heard, I was extremely troubled, and
if I had not had the original of them^by me, truly I
should have been much afliicted, and accounted tl:e

276 The Duchess of Newcastle

loss of my twenty playes, as the loss of twenty lives,
for in my mind I should have died twenty deaths,
which would have been a great torment, or I should
have been near the fate of those playes, and almost
drowned in salt tears, as they in the salt sea; but
they are destinated to live, and I hope, I in them, when
my body is dead, and turned to dust. But I am so
prudent, and careful of my poor labours, which are
my writing works, as I alwa3^es keep the copies of
them safely with me, until they are printed, and then
I commit the originals to the fire, like parents which
are willing to die, whereas they are sure of their
children's lives, knowing when they are old, and
past breeding, they are but useless in this world.
But howsoever their paper bodies are consumed, like
as the Roman Emperours in funeral flames, I cannot
say, an eagle flies out of them, or that they turn into
a blazing star, although they make a great blazing
light when they burn; and so leaving them to your
approbation or condemnation,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

ON HER MUCH TALKING

Madam, — ^Th' other day Mr. H. U.'s. daughter and
neece were here to visit me, and I endeavouring to
entertain them kindty and friendly, talked so much,
as they might easily believe, my tongue was in a
perpetual motion; especially being strangers to me,
not knowing my solitary, silent humour, who speak
only much when I entertain strangers, which I do
but seldom, so that my talking is like fits of a quartan
ague, and as hard to be lured, for much talking is a

Sociable Letters

277

disease, or a natural defect, or rather effect in the
female sex, and the defects and effects of nature may
be obscured, but not altered, so that it is very improb-
able, if not impossible, for a woman to be silent;
indeed it is against the nature of women, so that a
silent woman would be as a monster in nature; but
howsoever, my desire is rather to be a monster for
silence, than a natural in talk; wherefore, lest I
should commit a double fault, in overmuch writing
of my overmuch talking, I take my leave of you, and
rest, Madam,

Your faithful fr. and s.

OLD YEARS AND A YOUNG FACE

Madam, — ^You were pleased in your last letter to
tell me, that you did see the Lady C. C. and that her
face seems young, although she be old in years; but,
Madam, youthful appearance is like green moss on
aged trees, and not as the green of springing buds, or
flourishing leaves ; the truth is, some bodies are happy
in being so healthful, and of so lasting a constitution.
For like as the holly, ivy, bay, or laurel, last green all
their time, not only in summer, but also in winter;
so some men and women will appear young in the
winter of their age, with a fresh, and lively colour,
and so smooth, and free from wrinkles, as if time had
no power on them; but there are not many bodies, or
faces, that can boast they are too strong for time, and
although they should be victorious over time for a
time, yet time ruins them all at last. And so leaving
the Lady C. C. to her old years, and young face,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful friend a^d servant.

278 The Duchess of Newcastle

ON HER HUSBAND'S EXTRAORDINARY
VALOUR, WIT AND INVENTION

Madam, — ^Remember, when we were very young
maids, one day we were discoursing about lovers, and
we did injoyn each other to confess who professed to
love us, and whom we loved ; and I confessed I only
was in love with three dead men, which were dead
long before my time, the one was Caesar, for his valour,
the second Ovid, for his wit, and the third was our
countryman Shakespear, for his comical and tragical
humour. But soon after we both married two worthy
men, and I will leave you to your own husband, for
you best know what he is; as for my husband, I
know him to have the valour of Caesar, the fancy, and
wit of Ovid, and the tragical, especially comical art
of Shakespear; in truth, he is as far beyond Shake-
spear for comical humour as Shakespear beyond an
ordinarj^ poet in that way; also he is the best heroick
poet in this age, nay in my judgment, in any, for I
have seen him make twenty songs upon one theme or
subject, as musick, and not one song like another;
and for comedies, he hits, or meets, or imitates the
humours of men so justly, as he seems to go even with
Nature. Indeed he is such a person, that I glory more
to be his wife, than Livia to be Augustus's wife, or
had I been Titus's wife, who was called the delight
of mankind, although I never heard he had any;
for in my opinion he is as wise a man as Augustus,
and of as sweet a nature as Titus, all which is my
happiness in any condition of worldly fortune, in
which happiness I know you rejoyce, and this rejoyce
proves us inseparable friends.

Sociable Letters 279

A LETTER FROM ANTWERP

Madam, — I am so full of fear, as I write this letter
with great difficulty, for all this city hath been in an
uproar, and all through a factious division betwixt
the common council, and those they call the Lords,
which are the higher magistrates. The common people
gather together in multitudes, pretending for the
right of their privileges, but it is thought the design
is to plunder the merchants' houses, and the churches,
by the last they seem to regard, and covet more the
goods of the world than Heaven; indeed the world
makes men apt to forget Heaven, as loving mammon
more than God. The truth is, they have plundered
one of the chief magistrates, and were hardly kept
from plundering the bishop, which act expresses their
covetousness, and divulges their designs; and this
disorder causes the trumpets to sound, the drums to
beat, the souldiers to arm, and the women to weep,
and to make it the more fearful, the great bell, which
is only rung in time of danger, either in cases of fire,
or war, or mutinies, or the like, sounds dolefully, all
which makes me tremble fearfully; and that which
increases my fear the more is, that my maids being
possessed with the like fear, come often to me with
maskered faces, and tell me divers and different
reports, some, that the army is coming to destroy the
city, and others, that the souldiers have liberty to
abuse all the women, others, that all in the city shall
be put to the sword. The best report is, that all shall
be plundered, but for this last, my husband and I am
safe, for we are plunder-free, having had all our goods
and estate taken from us in our own country, so that
now we have no such goods or wealth as is worth the
taking; the truth is, we are rather in ^ condition to

28 o The Duchess of Newcastle

plunder, than to be plundered, so that if they will
but spare our persons and lives, I fear not our goods,
the only misery is, that we cannot well go out of
this city, by reason we have here some credit to take up
monies, or provisions, in time of necessity, for my
husband hath lived here so long, as he can challenge
the privilege of a burger, and therefore we may rise
up with the tumult, and cry out mutinously for our
rights and privileges. But for all this I am extremely
afraid, insomuch that at every noise I hear, if I be
not with my husband I run to find him out, so that
I write this letter but by starts. Yet my husband
endeavours to allay my fears, telling me, that the
beating of drums, and blowing of trumpets, and arm-
ing of souldiers, is the way and means to quiet this
mutiny, and to keep us in peace and safety; but for
all that, I hear my husband say, that it is a scurvy
business, and a dangerous example. Howsoever, I
leave all to his prudence and care; for I believe, if
he did perceive any great danger, he would remove me
out of the city, but then he must go with me, for I
will not part from him, regarding not my safety
when he is in danger, and I had rather die with him
than live after him. But, Madam, hoping the next
letter to you will be more comfortable, and that all
will be as quiet and peaceable as it was, I rest. Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

ON HER HOUSEWIFERY

Madam, — ^My thoughts, although not my actions,
have been so busily imployed about huswifry these
three or four dayes, as I could think of nothing else,
for I hearing my neighbours should say, my waiting-

Sociable Letters 281

maids were spoiled with idleness, having nothing to
do, but to dress, curl, and adorn themselves, and they
excusing themselves, laying the blame upon me, that
I did not set them to any imployment, but whereas
they were ready to obey my commands, I was so slow
in commanding them, as I seldom took any notice
of them, or spoke to them, and that the truth was,
they oftener heard of their lady, than heard, or saw
her themselves, I living so studious a life, as they did
not see me above once a week, nay, many times, not
once in a fortnight; wherefore, upon the relation of
these complaints, I sent for the governess of my
house, and bid her give order to have flax and wheels
bought, for I, with my maids, would sit and spin. The
governess hearing me say so, smiled, I asked her the
reason, she said, she smiled to think what uneven
threads I would spin, for, said she, though Nature hath
made you a spinster in poetry, yet education hath
not made you a spinster in huswifry, and you will
spoil more flax, than get cloth by your spinning, as
being an art that requires practice to learn it ; beside,
said she, the noise the wheels make with turning round
will be offensive to your hearing. I was very much
troubled to hear what she said, for I thought spin-
ning had been easie, as not requiring much skill to
draw, and twist a thread, nay, so easie I thought it
was, as I did imagine I should have spun so small,
and even a thread, as to make pure fine linnen cloth,
also, that my maids and I should make so much, as
I should not have needed to buy any, either for house-
hold hnnen, or shifts. Then I bid her leave me, to
consider of some other work; and when I was by my
self alone, I called into my mind several sorts of
wrought works, most of which, though I had will,
yet I had no skill to work, for which 1 did inwardly

282 The Duchess of Newcastle

complain of my education, that my mother did not
force me to learn to work with a needle, though she
found me alwayes unapt thereto; at last I pitched
upon making of silk flowers, for I did remember,
when I was a girl, I saw my sisters make silk flowers,
and I had made some, although ill-f avouredly ; where-
fore I sent for the governess of my house again, and
told her, that I would have her buy several coloured
silks, for I was resolved to imploy my time in making
silk-flowers. She told me, she would obey my com-
mands; but, said she. Madam, neither you, nor any
that serves you, can do them so well, as those who
make it their trade, neither can you make them so
cheap, as they will sell them out of their shops, where-
fore you had better buy those toyes, if you desire
them, for it will be an unprofitable emplo3mient, to
wast time, with a double expence of mony. Then
I told her I would preserve, for it was summer time,
and the fruit fresh, and ripe upon the trees; she
asked me for whom I would preserve, for I seldom
did eat sweet-meats my self, nor make banquets for
strangers, unless I meant to feed my houshold
servants with them; besides, said she, you may keep
half a score servants with the mony that is laid out
in sugar and coals, which go to the preserving only
of a few sweet-meats, that are good for nothing but
to breed obstructions, and rot the teeth. All which
when I heard, I conceived she spoke reason; at last
I considered, that I and my maids had better be idle,
than to employ time unprofitably, and to spend
mony idely; and after I had missed some time, I
told her, how I heard my neighbours condemned me,
for letting my servants be idle without employment,
and that my maids said it was my fault, for they were
wilHng to be employed in huswifry; she said, my

Sociable Letters 283

neighbours would find fault, where no fault was, and
my maids would complain more if they were kept to
work, than when they had liberty to play. Besides,
said she, none can want employment, as long as there
are books to be read, and they will never inrich your
fortunes by their working, nor their own, unless
they make a trade of working, and then perchance
they might get a poor living, but not grow rich by
what they can do ; whereas by reading they will inrich
their understandings, and increase their knowledges,
and quicken their wit, all which may make their
life happy, in being content with any fortune that
not in their power to better, or in that, as to manage
a plentiful fortune wisely, or to indure a low fortune
patiently; and therefore they cannot employ their
time better, than to read, nor your Ladiship better
than to write, for any other course of life would be
as unpleasing, and unnatural to you, as writing is
delightful to you ; besides, you are naturally addicted
to biisie your time with pen, ink, and paper. But,
said I, not with wit, for if Nature had given me as much
wit to write, as fortune hath given me leisure, my
writing might have been for some use, but now my
time and paper is unpro fit ably wasted in writing,
as my time and flax would be in spinning, but since
I am fit for no other employment but to scratch paper,
leave me to that employment, and let my attending
maids have books to read. Thus, Madam, for a time
did I trouble my mind, and busie my thoughts to
no purpose, but was forced to return to my writing-
work again, not knowing what else to do, and if I
had been as long absent from My Lord as Penelope
was from her husband Ulysses, I could have never
employed my time as she did; for her work only
employed her hands, and eyes, her ears were left

284 The Duchess of Newcastle

open to love's pleadings, and her tongue was at liberty
to give her suters answers, whereas my work employes
all the faculties and powers of my soul, mind, and
spirits, as well as my eyes and hands ; and my thoughts
are so busie in my brain, as they neither regard, nor
take notice what enters through the ears. Indeed
those passages are so stopped up, or barred close,
whereas had Penelope's ears been so barred, her
lover's petitions, sutes, and pleadings, would have
been kept without doors, like a company of beggars;
they might have knocked, but not entered, nor any
of the mind's family would have asked them what they
desired; neither would the tongue, the mind's almner,
have given them one word of answer ; and then it was
likely her amorous lovers would have gone away, and
not stayed to feed upon her cost and charge, as they
did. But, Madam, give me leave to beg your pardon
for writing so long a letter, though it is your desire
I should, I will tire you no longer, but subscribe
my self. Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

ON SHAKESPEAR'S PLAYS

Madam, — I wonder how that person you mention
in your letter, could either have the conscience, or
confidence to dispraise Shakespear's playes, as to
say they were made up onely with clowns, fools,
watchmen, and the like; but to answer that person,
though Shakespear's wit will answer for himself, I
say, that it seems by his judging, or censuring, he
understands not playes, or wit; for to express pro-
perly, rightly, usually, and naturally, a clown's, or
fool's humour, expressions, phrases, garbs, manners.

Sociable Letters 285

actions, words, and course of life, is as witty, wise,
judicious, ingenious, and observing, as to write and
express the expressions, phrases, garbs, manners,
actions, words and course of life, of kings and princes;
and to express naturally, to the life, a mean country
wench, as a great lady, a courtesan, as a chast
woman, a mad man, as a man in his right reason
and senses, a drunkard, as a sober man, a knave, as
an honest man, and so a clown, as a well-bred man,
and a fool, as a wise man; nay, it expresses and de-
clares a greater wit, to express, and deliver to pos-
terity the extravagancies of madness, the subtilty of
knaves, the ignorance of clowns, and the simpHcity
of naturals, or the craft of feigned fools, than to
express regularities, plain honesty, courtly garbs, or
sensible discourses, for 'tis harder to express nonsense
than sense, and ordinary conversations, than that
which is unusual; and 'tis harder, and requires more
wit to express a jester, than a grave statesman; yet
Shakespear did not want wit, to express to the hfe
all sorts of persons, of what quality, profession,
degree, breeding, or birth soever; nor did he want wit
to express the divers, and different humours, or
natures, or several passions in mankind; and so well
he hath expressed in his playes all sorts of persons,
as one would think he had been transformed into
every one of those persons he hath described; and
as sometimes one would think he was really himself
the clown or jester he feigns, so one would think, he
was also the king, and privy counsellor; also as one
would think he were really the coward he feigns, so
one would think he were the most valiant and
experienced souldier; who would not think he had
been such a man as his Sir John Falstaff ? and who
would not think he had been Harry the Fifth ? and

286 The Duchess of Newcastle

certainly Julius Caesar, Augustus Caesar, and Antonius,
did never really act their parts better, if so well, as
he hath described them, and I believe that Antonius
and Brutus did not speak better to the people, than
he hath feigned them ; nay, one would think that he
had been metamorphosed from a man to a woman,
for who could describe Cleopatra better than he hath
done, and many other females of his own creating,
as Nan Page, Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, the doctor's maid,
Bettrice, Mrs. Quickly, Doll Tearsheet, and others,
too many to relate ? and in his tragick vein, he pre-
sents passions so naturally, and misfortunes so
probably, as he peirces the souls of his readers with
such a true sense and feeling thereof, that it forces
tears through their eyes, and almost perswades them
they are realh^ actors, or at least present at those
tragedies. Who would not swear he had been a
noble lover, that could woo so well? and there is
not any person he hath described in his book, but his
readers might think they were well acquainted with
them; indeed Shakespear had a clear judgment, a
quick wit, a spreading fancy, a subtil observation,
a deep apprehension, and a most eloquent elocution ;
truly, he was a natural orator, as well as a natural
poet, and he was not an orator to speak well only on
some subjects, as lawyers, who can make eloquent
orations at the bar, and plead subtilly and wittily
in law cases, or divines, that can preach eloquent
sermons, or dispute subtilly and wittily in theology,
but take them from that, and put them to other
subjects, and they will be to seek; but Shakespear's
wit and eloquence was general, for, and upon all
subjects, he rather wanted subjects for his wit and
eloquence to work on, for which he was forced to
take some of his plots out of history, where he only

Sociable Letters 287

took the bare designs, the wit and language being
all his own; and so much he had above others, that
those who writ after him, were forced to borrow of
him, or rather to steal from him; I could mention
divers places, that others of our famous poets have
borrowed, or stolen, but lest I should discover the
persons, I will not mention the places, or parts, but
leave it to those that read his playes, and others, to
find them out. I should not have needed to write
this to you, for his works would have declared the
same truth : but I believe, those that dispraised his
playes, dispraised them more out of envy, than
simplicity or ignorance, for those that could read his
playes, could not be so foolish to condemn them, only
the excellency of them caused an envy to them. By
this we may perceive, envy doth not leave a man in
the grave, it follows him after death, unless a man be
buried in oblivion, but if he leave anything to be
remembered, envy and malice will be still throwing
aspersion upon it, or striving to pull it down by detrac-
tion. But leaving Shakespear's works to their own
defence, and his detractors to their envy, and you to
your better implo3mients, than reading my letter,

I rest. Madam,
Your faithful friend and humble servant.

ON HER SINGING

Sweet Madam Eleonora Duarti,— The last week
your sister Katherine and your sister Frances were
to visit me, and so well pleased I was with their neigh-
bourly, and friendly visit, as their good company put
me into a frolick humour, and for a pastime I sung
to them some pieces of old ballads; whereupon they

288 The Duchess of Newcastle

desired me to sing one of the songs My Lord made,
your brother set, and you were pleased to sing. I
told them first, I could not sing any of those songs;
but if I could, I prayed them to pardon me, for neither
my voice, nor my skill, was not proper, nor fit for
them, and neither having skill nor voice, if I should
offer to sing any of them, I should so much disadvan-
tage My Lord's poetical wit, and your brother's
musical composition, as the fancy would be obscured
in the one, and the art in the other; nay, instead of
musick, I should make discord, and instead of wit,
sing nonsense, knowing not how to humour the words,
nor relish the notes. Whereas your harmonious voice
gives their works both grace and pleasure, and invites
and draws the soul from all other parts of the body,
with all the loving and amorous passions, to sit in the
hollow cavern of the ear, as in a vaulted room, wherein
it listens with delight, and is ravished with admiration;
wherefore their works and your voice are only fit for
the notice of souls, and not to be sung to dull, unlisten-
ing ears. Whereas my voice and those songs, would be
as disagreeing as your voice and old ballads, for the
vulgar and plainer a voice is, the better it is for an old
ballad; for a sweet voice, with quavers, and trilloes,
and the like, would be as improper for an old ballad,
as golden laces on a thrum suit of cloth, diamond
buckles on clouted or cobbled shoes, or a feather on a
monk's hood. Neither should old ballads be sung so
much in a tune as in a tone, which tone is betwixt
speaking and singing; for the sound is more than
plain speaking, and less than clear singing, and the
rumming or humming of a wheel should be the musick
to that tone, for the humming is the noise the wheel
makes in the turning round, which is not hke the
musick of the spheres. And ballads are only proper

Sociable Letters 289

to be sung by spinsters, and that only in cold winter
nights, when a company of good huswifes are drawing
a thread of flax; but as these draw threads of flax,
so time draws their thread of life, as their web makes
them smocks, so time's web makes them death's
shirts, to which, as to death, afterwards those good
huswifes are married, and lie in the bed of earth, their
house being the grave, and their dwelling in the region
of oblivion ; and this is the fate of poor spinsters and
ballad-singers. Whereas such a singer as you, such a
composer as your brother, such a poet as My Lord,
are clothed with renown, marry fame, and live in
eternity, wherein death hath no power, time no limit,
and destinies shears are useless. But though I am
willing to sing an old ballad, yet not to dwell in obli-
vion ; for I love your company so well, as I would live
in eternity with you, and would be clothed as you,
with renown, for no fashioned garments please me so
well, and though the stuff or substance is not the same
with yours, the substances being as different as the
several qualities, faculties, proprieties, virtues, or
sweet graces and the like ; yet I will have as good as I
can get. I will search Nature's ware-house, or shop,
and though I cannot have a piece or measure of silver
sound, or broccaded art, yet certainly I hope to get
a piece or measure of three - poiled philosophy, or
flowered fancy, for though My Lord hath taken many
several pieces or packs out of Nature's shop, and hath
inhaunced the prices, yet he must not ingross this last
commodity to himself. 'Tis true, he hath ingrossed
two commodities, as weapons, and riding, out of art's
shop, the hand-maid of Nature, yet sure he will be
never able to ingross all the several kinds and divers
sorts of wares that Nature and art yet have in their
store-houses. But I perceive that you three, as My

K

290 The Duchess of Newcastle

Lord, you, and your brother, do traffick so much with
Nature and art, as I shall be but as a pedlar; howbeit,
it is better to have some dealings than none at all and
I will rather trade with toyes, than starve for want of
a living, and in order to make my self capable, I have
bound my self prentice to My Lord, and am willing
to serve out my time, but My Lord is so generous, as
to give me my freedom, and I must also desire you
to give me at present so much freedom, as to subscribe
myself. Madam,

Your very faithful friend and servant.

ON VISITORS AND VISITED

Madam, — ^As it was formerly the fashion, or custom
of those that received visits, if they were weary of
their visitors, to look in their watches, or to gape, or
to yawn; so now it is to have alwayes, or for the most
part, pen, ink, and paper lying upon the table in their
chamber, for an excuse they are writing letters; as
for the first, it is rude, and the last for the most part
is false. Wherefore methinks it would be an honester
and nobler custom to speak the truth, as to say, they
desire not to be visited, at such times as they would
not have company, or from such persons as they care
not for; or to tell them truly, that they cannot enter-
tain them, having some occasions which require their
attendance or imployment, or that they are not well,
and company would be troublesome to them. But to
receive their visits, and then not entertain them
handsomly, civilly, courteously, but dissemblingly,
carelessly or disrespectfully, is neither fit for persons
of quality to do to any company, if they will think
them worthy to receive a visit of them; neither fit

Sociable Letters 291

for persons of quality to suffer from any person. But
the visited and visitors do not alwayes know how to
behave themselves, for noble births may have mean
breeding, for some are nobly born and meanly bred,
and some are humbly born and nobly bred, and
some are nobly born and nobly bred, but those are
few, and some are neither well born nor well bred,
and those are many; but very few are bred so exactly,
as to know punctually how to behave themselves to
every particular person, and in every several company,
much less in every action of their life, which are almost
innumerous, and as different. Wherefore those are
most to be commended, that can go through the
course of their life with fewest errours ; a busie nature
is apt to commit most, and they that meddle least in
the affairs of the world, and are most sparing of speech,
commit fewest. 'Tis true, every living man commits
some, but those are happy that can reckon their
errours, that they are not past account. But if I write
my letter longer, I shall add one errour more to those
many that are past, although I am sure you will
pardon those wherewith I have offended you, as
believing they were not willingly, but ignorantly
committed by. Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

ON FEATHERS, MUFFS AND SWORDS

Madam, — I shall not trouble you now to buy the
round of feathers that came out of France, for I have
one made here in this town both cheaper and better
than those were; but I have sent as many several
messages, or letters, concerning the cap and feathers.

292 The Duchess of Newcastle

as I have heard a lady did to her husband, being in
the chief city, and she in the country, who sent to him
to buy her a hat and feather, the next week she sent to
buy her a hat, but not a feather, the third week, to buy
her a feather but not a hat, the fourth week she would
have neither hat nor feather. But I have bought a
cap, and many feathers, not only that they are in
fashion, but for use, for the hanging, or falling feathers
shadow my face from the burning sun, and fan a
gentle air on my face, that cools the sultry heat, so
that were it not a general fashion, it should be my
particular fashion in summer time. Indeed, feathers,
in my opinion, become women better than men, for
women are more of the nature of birds than beasts,
not only for their hopping and dancing, which
resembles flying, but because they are more useless
creatures, for most birds are of no use but to sing,
and some to prate, they are neither useful for labour
nor war, as most beasts are ; 'tis tine, vulturs, ravens,
crows, and such like birds, will be at the end of a
battel, but 'tis only to feed on the dead carcasses
slain in the battel, like those that feed on the slanders
of their sex; also feathers are light, not for shining,
but in weight, and so women have light natures;
feathers are unsteady and restless, so are women both
in body and mind ; indeed feathers and muffs are not
so seemly for men as for women, for how can a man
guide his horse, or use his sword, when his hands are
in a muff ? Yet it was all the fashion the last winter for
men to wear muffs, tied to a long string about their
necks, the muffs hanging at the lower end of the
string, and when they had an occasion to lay by their
muffs, they flung them behind their backs, which
seems like as poor, beggarly souldiers' knapsacks, or
as tinkers budgets, and the string about their neck

Sociable Letters 293

seems like as if they were going to be hanged for
steaHng some bread and cheese, or for robbing an
apple-orchard, or for steahng ragged linnen off the
hedges, or some such petty, or worthless things. But
men are as inconstant in their fashions as women, if
not more, so as it is to be hoped they will change to
a more manly fashion than muffs, and a more hand-
some fashion than boot-hose tied up to their short
breeches, which boot-hose about the knees appear
hke wens, and swelled sores ready to be lanced, to let
out the corruption that is gathered therein. Truly, to
me it would appear more seemly for women to wear
swords, than men to wear muffs, for women, though
weak, and unskilful to handle and use a sword, yet
had they courage, they might make a shift to assist
an assaulted friend, or to protect their honour against
violation, whereas a muff doth as it were tie up a
man's hands, and is a hinderance either to assault
or defend. But women have no occasion to wear
swords, for they are protected by the civil laws of all
nations; besides, all noble gentlemen are guards to
the female sex, and for the assistance of friends, there
be few that are assaulted in their own houses ; and
women are not suffered to fight in the war; neither
are they chosen for seconds, nor is it fit they should
be in drunken quarrels; and as for thieves, it is an
old saying, thieves are too strong for true men, for
thieves will seldom assault one, under two or three.
Not but that women ought to do their endeavour to
assist a friend in distress, though they were sure to
do them no good ; but their striving to help must do
them no hurt, by hindering them to help themselves;
as for example, some women that see an enemy
assault their husbands, sons, father or brother,
or are by when they quarrel with any other man.

294 The Duchess of Newcastle

will in a fright take hold of their friend, thinking to
pull them from hurt, whereas that holding may be
the cause of their being killed, as not being suffered
to defend themselves. Thus may their loving fear be
the cause of their death; but I have wandered too
far, from feathers and women, to swords and death;
wherefore leaving all to fates and fashions,

I rest, Madam,
Your faithful friend and servant.

A TRUE RELATION OF HER COLD CONDITION

Madam, — Give me leave to tell you, that I write
this letter with no small difficulty, for though I sit so
near the fire, as I have burned a part of my clothes,
yet the cold is so furious, as it doth not only freez the
ink in the standish, but in the pen I am writing with;
so that I am but a cold writer. Nay the very thoughts
seem to be frozen in my brain, for they move very
slowly, as if they were stupified, only my love to your
Ladiship keeps warm in my heart ; indeed, your love
doth help to maintain the fire of life. I know not how
cold it is at the poles, for I never was there in person,
but in my imagination yet, it cannot be colder there,
than it is here at this present time; for my part, I
could almost think, that this cold hath travelled from
the poles hither. But this thought of mine would be
contradicted through two reasons, the one, that cold
moves slowly; although to bring reason against reason,
it seems probable that cold is very quick, for it catches
every mankind by the fingers, and by the noses, as
soon as it comes near them, even as soon as burning
fire would do, and much sooner; the other reason is,
that cold in the long journy would get itself a heat,
and so wast by the way. But leaving these reasons.

Sociable Letters 295

though the senses know not from what places, or
parts, cold comes, or what it causes, yet they know
that we have here at this time cold with all its potent
strength, as an army of flakes of snow, with ammuni-
tion of hail for bullets, and wind for powder; also
huge ships of ice, which float in the main sea, and stop
up all the narrow rivers; also cold and its army
shooting forth the peircing darts, which fly so thick
and fast, and are so sharp, as they enter into every
pore of the flesh of all animal creatures. Whereby
many animals are wounded with numbness, and die
insensibly; although mankind bring what strength
they can get against cold, as an army of furs, where
every hair stands out hke a squadron of pikes, to
resist cold's assault; and ammunition of coals serves
for bullets, and ashes for powder, with great loggs for
cannons, billets for muskets and carbines, brush
faggots for pistols, where the bellows as fire-locks,
make them fly up in a flame ; also great pieces of
beef for ships for men of war, with cabbage for sails,
sawsages for tacklings, carrots for guns, and marrow-
bones for masts, ballasted with pepper, and pitched
or tarred with mustard, the card and needle being
brewis and neats' tongues, the steers-men cooks,
besides many pinnaces of pork, mutton, and veal,
and flying boats, which are turkies, capons, geese,
and the like, all which swim in a large sea of wine,
beer, and ale. Yet for all this we are beaten into the
chimney-comer, and there we sit shaking and tremb-
ling like a company of cowards, that dare not stir
from their shelter; and many in the sea-fight have
been drowned, from whence some have been taken
up dead-drunk, then carried and buried in a feather-
bed, where, after a long sleep, they may have a resur-
rection; but how they will be judged at that time they

zgt) The Duchess of Newcastle

rise, whether damned with censure, or saved by
excuse, I cannot tell. Thus, Madam, I though it was
the part of a friend to give you a true relation of our
cold condition, but in all conditions or extremities I
shall alwayes be, Madam,

Your faithful friend and humble servant.

A WINTER CITY

Madam, — If you were here in this city, now all the
ground of the streets is covered with snow, you would
see the young men and their mistresses ride in sleds
by torch-light, the women and the men dressed
antickly, as also their horses that draw their sleds;
and then every sled having a fair lady, at least to her
lover's thinking, sitting at one end of the sled, dressed'
with feathers and rich clothes, and her courting servant
like a coachman, or rather a carter, bravely accoutred,
driving the horses with a whip, which draw the sled
upon the snow with a galloping pace, whilst footmen
run with torches to light them. But many of these
lovers, not using to drive horses so often as court
mistresses, for want of skill overturn the sled, and so
tumble down their mistresses in the snow, whereupon
they being in a frighted hast, take them up from that
cold bed, and then the mistress appears like a pale
ghost, or dead body in a winding sheet, being all
covered with white snow; and the sled, when the
mistress is seated again, instead of a triumphant
chair, seems like a virgin's funeral herse, carried, and
buried by torch-light; and her feathers seem like a
silver crown, that usually is laid thereon, also the sled
is drawn then in a slow, funeral pace, for fear of a
second faU. By this custom and practice you may
know, we have here recreations for every season of

Sociable Letters 297

the year, and as the old saying is, that pride in winter
is never cold, so it may here be said, that love in
winter is never cold; indeed, I have heard sa3^ that
love is hot, and to my apprehension it must be a very
hot amorous love that is not cold this weather. But
leaving the hot lovers in the cold snow, I rest, by the
fire-side. Madam,

Your very faithful friend and servant.

ON THE SLIDING OF HER THOUGHTS IN HER

BRAIN

Madam, — ^Although I am as unwilling to stir from
the fire-side this cold weather, as criminals are to go
to their execution (for indeed the sharp cold is to me
as a sharp ax, and the peircing motions Hke points
of swords), yet my husband's perswasion, which is as
powerful on me, as the powerfullest authority of
states to particular persons, forced me out of the city,
as without the walls, to see men slide upon the frozen
moat, or river, which runs, or rather stands about the
city walls, as a trench and security thereof; and I
being warm inclosed in a mantle, and easily seated
in my coach, began to take some pleasure to see them
sHde upon the ice, insomuch as I wished I could, and
might sHde, as they did. But yet I would slide as
one of the skilfuUest, and most practiced, and with
a security the ice was so firm as not to break; but
since I neither had the agility, art, courage, nor
liberty, I returned home very well pleased with the
sight, and being alone to my self, I found I had a
river, lake, or moat frozen in my brain, into a smooth,
glassy ice, whereupon divers of my thoughts were
sliding; of which, some slid fearfully, others as if they
had been drunk, having much ado to keep on their

298 The Duchess of Newcastle

incorporeal legs, and some slid quite off their feet,
and fell on the cold hard ice; whereof some sliding
upon imaginary shoes, with the imagination full were
tossed up into the air of my brain; yet most of my
thoughts slid with a good grace and agility, as with
a swift and flying motion. But after I had sat by the
fireside some time, the imaginary ice began to melt,
and my thoughts prudently retired, or removed, for
fear of drowning in the imaginary river in my brain.
And so leaving this imagination, I profess my self
really, Madam,

Your faithful friend and servant.

A LETTER TO HER SISTER PYE ^

(" Of my four sisters, the third married Sir Edmund

Pye")

Dear Sister Pye, — Distance of place, nor length
of time, cannot lessen my natural, or rather super-
natural affection to you; for certainly my love for
you is more than a sister's love, nay, such a love, as
when I lived with you, it could not choose but be
somewhat troublesome, by reason my love was accom-
panied with such fears, as it would neither let you
rest, pray, nor eat in quiet. For though it was a
watchful love, yet it was a fearful love, for I remember
I have oftentimes waked you out of your sleep, when
you did sleep quietly, with soft breathing, fearing
you had been dead; and oftener have I laid my face
over your mouth, to feel if you breathed, insomuch
as I have kept my self waking, to watch your sleeps,
and as troublesome I was to you concerning your
feeding, as I was in your sleeping, for I was afraid
that that which was to nourish you, should kill you.
1 See p. 192 of her Memoirs.

Sociable Letters 299

And I remember, I was so doubtful of every meat you
did eat, as you were used to tell me, I was Sanca-
pancha's doctor; neither could I let you pray in
quiet, for I have often knocked at your closet door,
when I thought you were longer at your prayers than
usual, or at least, I did think the time longer; so as
I could not forbear to ask you how you did, and
whether you were well, and many the like impertin-
ences which my extraordinary love troubled you
with; of which trouble you are now quit, Hving so
far asunder. But though I am too far off to watch,
yet I pray for your health and long Hfe, and though
I thought it was impossible I could love any creature
better than you, yet I find by experience, I do, for
since I am married, I love my husband a degree above
you; yet howsoever; my several affections are like
God and nature, both infinite, and if love lives in the
soul, and the soul never dies, my several affections
may be eternal. But you may say, if my love was so
troublesome to you, what is it to my husband? I
must tell you, I have some more discretion now than
I had then, and though extraordinary love will hardly
allow, or admit discretion, yet reason doth perswade
love, and brings many arguments not to be impertin-
ently troublesom. But though I do not ask my
husband so many impertinent questions as I did you,
yet my love for him is not less watchful, careful, and
fearful, but rather more, if more can be ; and all the
powers and endeavours of my life are ready to serve
him and you. Only he must be served first, which I
am confident you will take no exception at, but
approve of; for you are a wife, and know what the
love to a husband is. And so leaving you to your
beloved husband, I rest.

Your most affectionate sister.

TVi«

CMOlAND

Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine
Cummings School of Veterinary !\l6(Jicine at
Tufts University
200 Westboro Road
North Grafton, MA 01536

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