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MY  LJJDY  CASTLEMJIINE 


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cKCy  Lady  Castlemaine 

Being  a  Life  of  Barbara  %)illiers 
Countess  of  Castlemaine,  afterwards 
Duchess   of  Cleveland     ::     :: 

By  Philip  IV  Sergeant,  B.J., 

Author  of  "  The  Empress  Josephine,  Napoleon's  Enchantress," 
"  Tjbe    Courtships    of    Catherine    the    Great,"    &C' 


With  19  Illustrations  including 
a  Photogravure  Frontispiece 


LONDON:    HUTCHINSON  &   CO, 

"PATERNOSTETi    %0W      ::      ::       19/2 


SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 


PREFACE 

XT  may  perhaps  be  maintained  that,  if  Barbara 
Villiers,  Countess  of  Castlemaine  and  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  has  not  been  written  about  in  many 
books,  it  is  for  a  good  and  sufficient  reason,  that  she 
is  not  worth  writing  about.  That  is  not  an  argument 
to  be  lightly  decided.  But  certainly  less  interesting 
women  have  been  the  subjects  of  numerous  books, 
worse  women,  less  influential — and  less  beautiful 
than  this  lady  of  the  dark  auburn  hair  and  deep  blue 
eyes.  We  know  that  Mr.  G.  K.  Chesterton  says  that 
Charles  II  attracts  him  morally.  (His  words  are 
'•  attracts  us,"  but  this  must  be  the  semi-editorial 
"  we.")  If  King  Charles  can  attract  morally  Mr. 
Chesterton,  may  not  his  favourite  attract  others  ? 
Or  let  us  be  repelled,  and  as  we  view  the  lady  acting 
her  part  at  Whitehall  let  us  exclaim,  "  How  differ- 
ent from  the  Court  of  .  .  .  good  King  William  III," 
if  we  like. 

Undoubtedly  the  career  of  Barbara  Villiers  furnishes 
a  picture  of  one  side  at  least  of  life  in  the  Caroline 
period  ;  of  the  life  of  pleasure  unrestrained,  unfalter- 
ing— unless  through  lack  of  cash — and  unrepentant. 
For  Barbara  did  not  die,  like  her  great  rival  Louise  de 
Keroualle    (according   to    Saint-Simon),    "  very    old, 


VI 


PREFACE 


very  penitent,  and  very  poor "  ;  or,  like  another 
rival,  Hortense  Mancini  (according  to  Saint-Evre- 
mond),  "  seriously,  with  Christian  indifference  toward 
life."  On  the  principle  humani  nil  a  me  alienum 
puto  even  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  cannot  be  con- 
sidered unworthy  of  attention  ;  but,  as  being  more 
extreme  in  type,  therefore  more  interesting  than  the 
competing  beauties  of  her  day. 

A  few  words  are  necessary  concerning  the  method 
of  this  book.  The  idea  has  been  to  let  contemporaries 
tell  the  story  as  far  as  possible,  and  usually  in  their 
own  language.  This  involves  a  plentiful  use  of  in- 
verted commas ;  but  it  appears  to  me  that  thus  a 
more  vivid  and  faithful  presentation  is  made  of  the 
spirit — or  spirits — of  the  times  than  if  all  the  material 
had  been  transformed  into  Twentieth  Century  shape. 
What  could  bring  the  volcanic  Barbara  more  clearly 
before  our  eyes  than  Pepys's  tale,  in  chapter  vii,  of 
her  departure  from  Whitehall  Palace,  after  a  threat 
to  murder  her  child  before  Charles's  eyes,  making 
"  a  slighting  '  puh '  with  her  mouth "  ;  or  Mrs. 
Manley's,  in  chapter  ix,  of  her  fit  after  Churchill 
had  refused  to  lend  her  money,  when  "  her  resent- 
ment burst  out  into  a  bleeding  at  her  nose  and  breaking 
of  her  lace,  without  which  aid,  it  is  believed,  her 
vexation  had  killed  her  upon  the  spot  "  ?  Even  the 
mis-spellings  have  their  value  ;  as  when  the  Duchess 
tells  Charles  that  "  this  prosiding  of  yours  is  so  jenoros 
and  obHging  that  I  must  be  the  werst  wooman  alive 
ware  I  not  sensible  ;  no  S'  my  hart  and  soule  is  toucht 
with  this  genoriste  of  yours." 


PREFACE  vii 

Another  point  in  the  method  adopted  will,  I  fear, 
be  unfavourably  criticised  by  all  except  the  general 
reader.  Practically  all  the  footnotes  except  those 
which  can  be  read  without  a  distraction  of  the  at- 
tention from  the  thread  of  the  narrative  have  been 
banished  to  the  end  of  the  book.  Almost  every 
reference  to  the  pages  of  the  authorities  has  been 
thus  treated.  Those  readers,  therefore,  who  do  not 
care  (for  instance)  on  what  page  of  what  volume  of 
the  Historical  MSS.  Commission  reports  a  certain 
letter  is  to  be  found,  will  not  have  their  eyes  irritated 
by  asterisks  drawing  attention  to  "  H.M.C.  Rep.  15, 
App.,  Pt.  4."  Those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  wish 
to  verify  a  quotation  or  to  read  a  passage  which 
illustrates,  without  directly  belonging  to,  the  narrative 
may  do  so  without  more  labour  than  is  involved  by 
turning  to  the  Notes  at  the  end  of  the  book. 

As  these  Notes  quote  my  sources  of  information,  it 
is  unnecessiary  here  to  make  special  acknowledgment 
of  indebtedness  to  particular  authorities.  But  it 
\vould  be  ungracious  not  to  mention  the  authors  of 
the  three  ^  previous  biographies  of  Barbara  Villiers — 
the  complete  and  careful  Memoir  by  Mr.  G.  S. 
Steinman,  privately  printed  in  1871,  with  Addenda  in 
1874  ^^^  1^7^  5  t^^  attractive  sketch  in  Mr.  Allan 
Fea's  Some  Beauties  of  the  Seve7iteenth  Century  ;  and 
the  wholly  admirable  article  by  Mr.  Thomas  Seccombe 
in  the  Dictionary  of  Natio?ial  Biography. 

^  Since  the  above  was   written  my  attention  has  been  called    to  a 
fourth  biography,  by    Mr.    Alfred  Kalisch,  included  in   TAe  Lives  of 
Twelve  Bad  Women. 


viH  PREFACE 

With  regard  to  the  title  of  this  book,  "  My  Lady 
Castlemaine "  was  chosen  in  preference  to  others 
because  it  is  so  that  the  lady  is  always  called  by  Samuel 
Pepys ;  and  he  (who  has  surely  more  right  than 
Euripides  to  the  name  of  "  the  human  ")  has  taught 
us  how  she  may  be  looked  upon  with  a  kindly  eye. 

Philip  W.  Sergeant. 
November,  1 9 1 1 . 


CONTENTS 


Barbara  Villiers         .                .                .            . 

I 

Barbara's  Marriage    .                .                .            . 

22 

The  Affair  of  the  Queen's  Bedchamber 

45 

The  Castlemaine  Ascendancy  . 

77 

The  Rivals   .                .                .                .            . 

•       95 

Politics  and  Plague  .               .               .            . 

.     ii6 

The  Struggle  for  Supremacy  . 

132 

The  Declining  Mistress 

•     157 

Supplanted                   .                .                .            . 

173 

The  Portsmouth  Supremacy 

199 

The  Duchess  in  Paris 

214 

The  Last  Years  of  Charles  II 

241 

"Hilaria"     ..... 

261 

In  Low  Water             .                .                .            .        . 

283 

The  Duchess  and  Beau  Feilding 

292 

Last  Years  and  Death 

317 

Notes             ..... 

323 

Index             ..... 

347 

IX 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


Barbara    Villiers,   Countess   of   Castlemaine   and    Duchess    of 
Cleveland,  in  the  character  of  Bellona.    .         .  .   Frontispiece 

From  the  painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely  at  Hampton  Court. 

TO   FACE  PAGE 

William  Villiers,  Second  Viscount  Grandison      .  .  .  6 

From  an  engraving  after  a  painting  by  Van  Dyck. 

Philip  Stanhope,  Second  Earl  of  Chesterfield       .  .         .14 

From  an  engraving  by  E.  Scriven,  after  a  painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely. 

Roger  Palmer,  Earl  of  Castlemaine    .  .  .         .       22 

From  an  engraving  by  Faithorne. 

Barbara    Villiers,    Countess    of  Castlemaine   and    Duchess   of 
Cleveland      .  .  .  .  .  .       32 

From  an  engraving  after  a  miniature  by  Samuel  Cooper. 

Barbara    Villiers,   Countess   of  Castlemaine   and    Duchess    of 

Cleveland       .  .  .  ...        44 

From  a  painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely. 

Catherine  of  Braganza,  Queen  of  Charles  II       .  .         .       54 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  A.  Mansell  $^  Co.,  after  a  painting 
in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery  by  Jacob  Huysmans. 

Barbara   Villiers,    Countess    of   Castlemaine   and    Duchess   of 
Cleveland       .  .  .  ...        76 

From  an  engraving  by  W.  Sherwin. 

Frances  Stewart  .  .  ...       94 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  J.  Roberts  after  a  painting  by  Sir  Peter 
Lely  at  Goodwood,  reproduced  by  permission  of  the  Earl  of 
March. 

Barbara    Villiers,    Countess   of    Castlemaine  and    Duchess    of 

Cleveland       .  .  .  .  .  .      108 

From  an  engraving  by  J.  Enghels  after  a  picture  by  Sir  Peter  LcIy, 

Charles  the  Second  .  .  .  .  .      132 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  A.  Mansell  &  Co.,  after  a  painting 
by  Mrs,  Beale  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery. 

xi 


xii  LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

TO   fACE   PAGE 

Barbara   Villiers,    Countess    of  Castlemaine    and    Duchess   of 

Cleveland      .  .  .  .  .         .      156 

From  a  photograph  by  Emery  Walker,  after  a  copy  of  a  picture  ty 
Sir  Peter  Lely  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery. 

Barbara    Villiers,    Countess    of  Castlemaine    and    Duchess    of 

^,  Cleveland      .  .  .  .  ..174 

From  a  mezzotint  engraving  after  a  painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely. 

William  Wycherley  .  -  .  .         .      192 

From   a  mezzotint   engraving  by   I.    Smith,   after   a    painting    by 
Sir  Peter  Lely. 

Barbara    Villiers,    Countess    of  Castlemaine    and    Duchess    of 
Cleveland,  and  her  daughter  Lady  Barbara       .  .  .214 

From  a  mezzotint  engraving,  after  a  painting  by  H.  Gascar. 

Henry  Fitzroy,  First  Duke  of  Grafton  .  .         .     248 

From  a  mezzotint  engraving  by  Beckett. 

The  Earl  of  Castlemaine  at  the  feet  of  Innocent  XI        .         .268 
From  a  contemporary  work  published  in  Rome. 

Robert  Feilding  .  .  .  .  .292 

From  an  engraving  by  M.  Van  der  Gucht. 

Barbara    Villiers,    Countess    of  Castlemaine   and    Duchess  of 

Cleveland      .                  .                  .                  .              .  .     318 

From   a   photograph  by  Emery  Walker,   after    a  painting   by  Sir 
Godfrey  Kneller  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery. 


ERRATA. 

Page   49,  1.     5.  /i?;- "  father  "  ;-^a«"' grandfather." 

,,    271,  1.  10.  For  "in  October"  read''  or\.  Septeml  er  28th." 

>)    285,  1.  24.  For  "  we  do  not  hear "  mad  "  Luttrell  does  not  relate. 

,,    286,  1.  12.  Delete  interrogation -tnark. 


MY  LADY  CASTLEMAINE 

CHAPTER   I 
BARBARA   VILLIERS 

"  O  Barbara,  thy  execrable  name 
Is  sure  embalmed  with  everlasting  shame." 

Charles,  Earl  of  Dorset. 

"  T  LOVE  not  to  give  characters  of  women,  especi- 
ally where  there  is  nothing  that  is  good  to  be 
said  of  them,"  says  Bishop  Burnet,  in  a  fragment 
which  perhaps  he  intended  originally  to  incorporate  in 
his  famous  History  of  My  Own  'Time.  He  does,  how- 
ever, so  far  overcome  his  reluctance  to  attempt  femin- 
ine character-drawing  as  to  devote  a  few  lines,  both 
here  and  in  the  History,  to  her  who  was  at  the  time  he 
wrote  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  The  latter  of  the  two 
passages  has  been  quoted  by  almost  every  writer  who 
has  had  occasion  to  allude  to  the  Duchess.  What 
Burnet  says  in  the  fragment  will  be  less  familiar  to  most 
readers.  It  is  brief  and  much  to  the  point  :  "  Indeed, 
I  never  heard  any  commend  her  but  for  her  beauty, 
which  was  very  extraordinary  and  has  been  now  of 
long  continuance."  (Her  Grace  was  forty-two  years  of 
age  when  Burnet  wrote  this.)  "  In  short,  she  was  a 
woman  of  pleasure,  and  stuck  at  nothing  that  would 


2  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

either  serve  her  appetites  or  her  passions ;  she  was 
vastly  expensive,  and  by  consequence  very  covetous  ; 
she  was  weak,  and  so  was  easily  managed." 

The  Bishop's  opinion  of  the  lady's  beauty  was 
generally  shared  by  his  and  her  contemporaries.  To 
Sir  John  Reresby  she  is  "  the  finest  woman  of  her 
age  "  ;  to  Boyer,  "  by  far  the  handsomest  of  all  King 
Charles's  mistresses,  and,  taking  her  person  every  way, 
perhaps  the  finest  woman  in  England  in  her  time." 
In  the  course  of  this  book  we  shall  see  many  other 
tributes  of  the  same  kind  from  writers  of  all  sorts. 
Among  the  painters,  Lely  in  particular  paid  her  a  still 
greater  compliment,  for  he  did  her  picture  so  often 
and  so  admirably  that  her  handsome  features  are  better 
known  to  us  nowadays  than  those  of  any  of  her  rivals. 
There  are  in  existence  at  the  present  time,  in  England 
and  abroad,  enough  portraits  of  her  to  fill  a  small 
gallery. 

If  her  bodily  loveliness  was  universally  recognised  in 
her  lifetime  and  is  incontestable  to-day,  her  moral 
character  was  a  byword  while  she  lived  and  has  never 
found  an  apologist  since  her  death.  Horace  Walpole 
in  a  letter  to  his  friend  George  Montagu,  it  is  true, 
puts  her  among  "  the  historically  noble  "  ;  but,  as 
he  classes  together  under  this  heading  "  the  Clevelands, 
Portsmouths,  and  Yarmouths  "  as  opposed  to  ladies 
like  "  Madam  Lucy  Walters,"  it  is  clear  to  what  sort 
of  nobility  he  is  referring.  Except  Samuel  Pepys  and 
King  Charles  II  nobody  appears  to  have  discovered 
a  good  point  about  her.  What  Burnet  thought  of  her 
was  thought  also  by  nearly  all  who  came  in  contact  with 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  3 

her.  But  the  majority  of  them  in  committing  their 
judgment  to  paper  used  much  stronger  language.  The 
satirists,  indeed,  went  so  far  that  their  verses  seldom 
permit  of  quotation.  Some  discount  must  be  allowed 
in  the  lady's  favour  on  account  of  the  violent  hatred 
stored  up  against  her  during  her  long  rule  at  Whitehall, 
and  breaking  forth  as  soon  as  it  was  reasonably  safe  to 
give  vent  to  it.  It  can  scarcely  be  doubted,  however, 
that  she  deserved  the  substance  of  what  was  said 
about  her.  And  if  the  language  of  her  censors  was 
excessively  vehement,  she  could  not  justly  complain. 
She  was  herself  such  a  shrew  that  we  may  apply  to  her 
what  Pope  said  of  a  certain  Oldham,  "  a  very  indelicate 
writer  "  :  "  He  has  a  strong  rage,  but  it  is  too  much 
like  Billingsgate  !  " 

It  would  not  be  quite  true  to  say  that  Barbara 
Villiers  was  a  female  incarnation  of  the  spirit  of 
Restoration  England  ;  for  it  is  a  popular  fallacy 
which  makes  the  Restoration  the  starting-point  of  a 
change  not  merely  in  the  externals  of  life,  but  also  in 
the  inner  morality  of  this  country.  But  she  may 
fairly  be  said  to  be  a  distinctive  product  of  her  time, 
fostered  to  rank  luxuriance  by  the  special  circum- 
stances of  her  early  girlhood,  rather  than  the  off-shoot 
of  a  bad  stock  growing  up  like  a  weed  in  a  garden  where 
it  has  no  rightful  place. 

Barbara  was  indeed  of  very  honourable  descent 
through  both  of  her  parents.  Her  father,  William 
Villiers,  second  Lord  Grandison,  was  the  eldest  son  of 
Sir  Edward  VilHers ;  and  of  Barbara  St.  John,  to 
whose  descendants   the   title   of  her   childless   uncle, 


4  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Oliver  St.  John,  Viscount  Grandison  of  Limerick,  was 
transmitted.  To  this  grandmother  Barbara,  no  doubt, 
the  subject  of  the  present  biography,  owed  her  name. 
Sir  Edward  Villiers,  who  himself  had  a  family  of 
seven,  was  one  of  the  nine  children  of  Sir  George 
Villiers  of  Brokesby,  Leicestershire.  Sir  George  was 
twice  married,  Edward  being  the  second  son  of  the 
first  marriage,  while  from  the  second  sprang  the 
famous  George,  first  Duke  of  Buckingham,  tvv^o  other 
sons,  and  a  daughter.  Going  further  back,  the  family 
of  Villiers  were  entitled  to  make  the  boast  that  they 
came  over  with  the  Conqueror,  and  their  origin  was 
referred  to  the  Norman  house  of  Villiers,  Seigneurs  de 
I'Isle  Adam,  which  gave  France  a  famous  marshal  in 
the  fourteenth  century,  a  celebrated  Grand  Master  of 
the  Knights  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  in  the  sixteenth, 
and,  in  modern  days,  a  notable  poet.  After  their  arrival 
in  England  the  family  settled  in  the  North  Midlands, 
their  estates  in  the  early  Norman  times  being  in 
Lancashire,  Nottinghamshire  and  Leicestershire.  As 
we  reach  the  Stuart  period  we  find  them  closely 
connected  with  the  last-named  county,  of  which  Sir 
George  Villiers  was  Sheriff  in  1591.  The  wonderful 
favour  to  which  Sir  George's  son  and  namesake  attained 
at  the  Court  of  James  I  led  to  the  advancement  of  the 
whole  of  this  branch,  and  even  the  children  of  Sir 
George's  first  marriage  benefited  by  the  reflected 
glory  of  the  brilliant  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  Sir 
Edward,  Barbara's  grandfather,  being  made  in  turn 
English  Ambassador  to  Bohemia  and  President  of  the 
province  of  Munster,  in  the  latter  of  which  posts  he  died. 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  5 

Succeeding  first  to  his  father's  estate  in  1626  and 
then  to  his  great-uncle's  Irish  viscounty  of  Grandison, 
Wilham  VilHers  made  an  apparently  good  match  with 
the  young  Mary  Bayning,  one  of  the  four  daughters  of 
Paul,  first  Viscount  Bayning,  of  Sudbury,  Suffolk. 
The  Baynings  were  a  wealthy  commercial  family, 
Paul's  father  having  been  Sheriff  of  London,  and 
having  married  an  Essex  heiress ;  while  Paul  himself 
took  to  wife  Anne  Glemham,  granddaughter  of  the 
first  Earl  of  Dorset.  Of  Mary  Bayning  we  hear  little 
beyond  the  fact  that  she  married  two  more  husbands 
after  WiUiam  Villiers.  But  from  the  early  profligacy 
of  her  daughter  it  may  be  gathered  that  she  was  a  bad 
mother,  whatever  her  character  may  have  been  in  other 
respects.  If  she  bore  the  responsibilities  of  married 
life  ill,  there  is  perhaps  this  excuse,  that  she  undertook 
them  before  attaining  full  womanhood.  When  she 
bore  her  only  daughter  Barbara,  she  was  apparently 
no  more  than  sixteen,  and  she  was  left  a  widow  for  the 
first  time  at  the  age  of  eighteen  ;  although  that  was  by 
no  means  extraordinarily  young  for  a  widow  in 
those  days  of  very  early  marriages. 

Barbara  Villiers  was  born  in  1641  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  in  which  her  father 
presumably  had  at  this  time  a  house.  The  register 
of  St.  Margaret's  Church  contains  an  entry,  showing 
that  the  child  was  baptised  there  on  November  27th, 
1641.  From  this  it  has  been  concluded  that  her  birth 
took  place  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  ;  but  no  record 
exists  of  the  actual  date  and,  curiously,  there  is  no 
mention  in  the  writings  of  her  contemporaries  of  any 


6  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

celebration  of  her  birthday  after  she  had  become  so 
notorious.  There  is  extremely  little  known,  too,  of  the 
fortunes  of  her  family  in  the  first  years  of  her  life. 
Before  she  was  one  year  old  there  broke  out  what 
Evelyn  calls  "  that  bloody  difference  between  the  King 
and  Parliament,"  in  which  her  father,  as  a  Villiers, 
naturally  ranged  himself  on  the  side  of  the  King. 
Viscount  Grandison  received  a  commission  as "  Colonel- 
General,"  and  raised  a  regiment  for  the  Royalist 
Army.  At  the  opening  of  the  war  he  captured  Nant- 
wich  for  the  King.  He  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Parliamentarians  at  Winchester,  but  escaped  ;  took 
part  in  the  battle  of  Edgehill ;  and  in  the  following 
year  was  at  the  siege  of  Bristol  by  the  royal  forces. 
Here  he  received  a  fatal  wound  on  July  26th.  From 
Bristol  he  was  carried  to  Oxford  and  died  in  August, 
being  buried  in  the  Cathedral.  His  daughter  some 
years  after  the  Restoration  raised  above  his  remains 
the  white  marble  monument  which  may  still  be  seen 
at  Christ  Church,  with  a  highly  eulogistic  epitaph 
upon  it. 

But  a  more  glorious  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
Barbara^s  father  is  to  be  found  in  the  words  of  his 
friend  Clarendon,  Lord  Chancellor-  of  England  and 
author  of  two  of  the  most  valuable  works  on  the 
Commonwealth  and  the  reign  of  Charles  H.  Lord 
Grandison's  loss,  he  declares,  could  never  be  enough 
lamented.  "  He  was  a  young  man  of  so  virtuous  a 
habit  of  mind  that  no  temptation  or  provocation  could 
corrupt  him  ;  so  great  a  lover  of  justice  and  integrity 
that  no  example,  necessity,  or  even  the  barbarities  of 


From  an  ciigravini;;  ajtc>-  a  painting  by  Van  D}\l: 

WILLIAM    VILLIERS,   SECOND  VISCOUNT   GRANDISON 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  7 

this  war  could  make  him  swerve  from  the  most  precise 
rules  of  it ;  and  of  that  rare  piety  and  devotion  that  the 
court  or  camp  could  not  shew  a  more  faultless  person, 
or  to  whose  example  young  men  might  more  reasonably 
conform  themselves.  His  personal  valour  and  courage 
of  all  kinds  (for  he  had  sometimes  indulged  so  much 
to  the  corrupt  opinion  of  honour  as  to  venture  himself 
in  duels)  was  very  eminent,  insomuch  as  he  was  accused 
of  being  too  prodigal  of  his  person  ;  his  affection,  zeal, 
and  obedience  to  the  King  was  such  as  became  a  branch 
of  that  family.  And  he  was  wont  to  say  that  if  he  had 
not  understanding  enough  to  know  the  uprightness 
of  the  cause  nor  loyalty  enough  to  inform  him  of  the 
duty  of  a  subject,  yet  the  very  obligations  of  gratitude 
to  the  King,  on  the  behalf  of  his  house,  were  such  as 
his  life  was  but  a  due  sacrifice.  And  therefore  he  no 
sooner  saw  the  war  unavoidable  than  he  engaged  all  his 
brethren  as  well  as  himself  in  the  service ;  and  there 
were  three  more  of  them  in  command  in  the  army, 
where  he  was  so  unfortunately  cut  off." 

So  Grandison  fell  a  victim  to  the  war,  followed  to 
the  grave  five  years  later  by  his  cousin,  called  by 
Aubrey  "  the  beautiful  Francis  Villiers,"  shortly  before 
the  cause  for  which  so  many  of  the  name  fought  was 
lost  for  ever  by  the  death  on  the  scaffold  at  Whitehall 
of  the  Royal  Martyr.  The  widowed  Viscountess,  on 
April  25th,  1648,  married  her  late  husband's  cousin 
Charles,  second  Earl  of  Anglesea,  the  undistinguished 
son  of  an  undistinguished  father,  who  owed  his  earldom 
purely  to  the  talents  and  influence  of  his  brother 
George,     favourite     of    James     I     and     Charles     I. 


8  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

After  this  wedding  we  hear  no  more  of  the  mother, 
stepfather,  or  daughter  until  1656.  But  Abel  Boyer, 
in  his  Annals  of  Queen  Anne'' s  Reign,  which  began 
publication  in  1703,  in  the  course  of  his  obituary- 
notice  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  in  1709  says  : 
"  This  Lady  being  left  destitute  of  a  Father  when  not 
above  Two  or  Three  year  old,  I  cannot  learn  who  had 
the  Care  of  her,  but  have  been  informed  that  the 
Circumstances  of  the  Family  was  Mean,  and  that  when 
she  came  first  to  London,  she  appeared  in  a  very  plain 
Country  dress,  which  being  soon  altered  into  the 
Gaiety  and  Mode  of  the  Town,  added  a  new  lustre 
to  that  Blooming  Beauty,  of  which  she  has  as  great  a 
share  as  any  lady  in  her  time." 

This  is  the  nearest  approach  v/hich  we  can  find  to  a 
contemporary  account  of  Barbara's  first  years.  Boyer 
continues  :  "  Thus  furnished  by  bounteous  Nature 
and  by  Art,  she  soon  became  the  Object  of  divers 
young  Gentlemen's  Affections."  Concerning  the 
affections  of  one  of  these  young  gentlemen  we  are 
fortunate  enough  to  have  some  testimony,  most 
thoughtfully  preserved  by  himself  for  the  information 
of  future  generations. 

Philip  Stanhope,  second  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  is 
undoubtedly  less  known  to  popular  fame  than  his 
grandson,  the  fourth  Earl.  Nevertheless,  if  it  comes 
to  a  question  of  comparison  of  character,  the  earlier 
Chesterfield  is  the  more  remarkable  man  of  the  two. 
In  his  lifetime  and  immediately  after  his  death,  people's 
judgment  upon  him  was  chiefly  dependent  on  the 
view  which  they  took  of  his  politics.     He  was  a  loyal 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  9 

gentleman  or  an  arrant  knave,  according  as  his  critic 
was  an  adherent  of  the  Stuarts  or  not.  Beside  his 
attachment  to  the  Royal  Family,  his  other  most  striking 
trait — his  contemptuous  and  promiscuous  devotion  to 
woman — was  scarcely  taken  into  consideration.  His 
value  was  estimated  apart  from  the  matter  of  his 
sexual  morality  ;  which  was,  in  effect,  to  judge  but 
half  the  man.  Seen  by  us  to-day,  as  portrayed  in  the 
letters  and  autobiographical  notes  which  he  left  behind 
him,  he  produces  a  very  mixed  impression  on  the  mind. 
As  his  last  thought  would  have  been  to  betray  his 
sovereign  (whether  he  were  Charles  or  James),  so  his 
last  thought  also  would  have  been  not  to  betray  a  lady, 
if  he  had  the  chance  and  she  (as  he  wrote  to  one  of 
them)  were  "  neither  ould  nor  ugly." 

When  he  came  into  the  life  of  Barbara  Villiers,  Lord 
Chesterfield  was  twenty-three  years  of  age  and  had 
been  a  widower  three  years.  His  career  so  far  had 
been  a  very  adventurous  one.  Born  in  1633,  he 
was  only  son  to  Henry  Stanhope  and  Catherine, 
daughter  of  Lord  Wotton.  His  paternal  grandfather 
had  been  created  Earl  of  Chesterfield  by  Charles  I,  on 
whose  behalf  he  and  his  numerous  sons  fought  bravely 
during  the  Civil  War.  When  Philip  was  in  his  second 
year  his  father  died  and  was  buried  at  Becton  Malherbe, 
Kent,  the  home  of  the  Wottons.  Here  the  child  was 
brought  up  until  the  age  of  seven,  when  his  mother 
married  a  second  time.  Her  new  husband  was  "  John 
Poliander  Kirkhoven,  Lord  of  Hemfleet,"  ambassador 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange  at  the  Court  of  Charles  L 
With  him  she  went  to  Holland,  taking  her  little  son. 


10  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

who  during  his  eighth  and  ninth  years  was  under  the 
tuition  of  his  stepfather's  father,"  Monsieur  Poliander," 
Professor  of  Divinity  at  the  University  of  Leyden. 
"  His  new  disciple,"  says  the  editor  of  the  memoir 
prefixed  to  the  Chesterfield  Letters,^  "  seems  to  have 
conceived  a  deep  respect  for  the  religious  and  erudite 
character  of  his  instructor."  He  appears  to  have  gone 
no  further  than  admiring  M.  Poliander's  character. 
Had  he  been  bigger  at  the  time  when  he  was  under  the 
Professor's  care  we  might  have  looked  for  the  explana- 
tion of  Chesterfield's  moral  lapses  in  some  lines  of  an 
epitaph  upon  the  old  gentleman,  written  by  Dr. 
Browne,  who  was  esteemed  by  His  Lordship  "  a  fine 
poet."    These  lines  ran  : 

*'  Sinn  hee  reproved  with  so  much  Art 
That  hee  both  smote  and  strok'd  the  harte  ; 
And  men  seem'd  fond  of  their  back  slyding 
For  the  pleasure  of  a  chiding." 

After  leaving  the  delightful  care  of  M.  Poliander, 
the  boy  spent  his  next  six  years  partly  in  Holland, 
partly  in  France.  Three  months  of  this  time  he  was 
attached  to  the  Court  of  the  exiled  Queen-Mother 
Henrietta  Maria  in  Paris.  For  two  periods,  one  as  long 
as  twelve  months,  he  was  at  the  Court  of  the  Princess 
of  Orange,  formerly  Princess  Royal  of  England,  to 
whom  his   mother  was   Governess.     At   the   age   of 

^  Letters  of  Thilip,  Second  Earl  of  Chesterfield  (London  :  1829). 
Lord  Chesterfield  preserved  these  letters,  copied  out  by  himself  in  a 
manuscript  volume,  which  included  also  what  he  calls  "  Some  short 
Notes  for  my  remembrance  of  things  and  actidents,  as  they  yearly 
happened  to  mee." 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  ii 

sixteen  he  was  at  an  academy  in  Paris,  where,  as  he 
explains  in  his  Short  Notes,  "  I  chanced  to  have  a 
quarrel  with  Monsieur  Morvay,  since  captaine  o£  the 
French  king's  guards,  who  I  hurt  and  disarmed  in  a  duel, 
and  thereupon  I  left  the  academy."  A  visit  to  Italy 
followed,  whence  he  returned  to  his  native  land,  which 
he  had  not  seen  since  he  was  seven,  and  married  in 
1650  Lady  Anne  Percy,  eldest  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland.  After  three  apparently  peaceful 
years  he  lost  his  wife  by  smallpox,  following  childbirth, 
and  went  abroad  again,  being  now  only  twenty-one 
years  of  age.  His  second  visit  to  the  Continent  was 
marked  by  many  adventures  and  great  straits  of 
fortune.  For,  as  we  learn  from  his  Notes,  in  the  year 
he  left  England  a  decree  in  Chancery  was  given  against 
him  and  "  my  unkle  Arthur " — Arthur  Stanhope, 
sixth  son  of  the  first  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  and  Member 
for  Nottingham  in  the  Convention  Parliament — 
seized  his  estate,  claiming  that  his  nephew  owed  him 
ten  thousand  pounds.  Arthur  Stanhope  stood  very 
well  with  Cromwell,  it  appears.  In  the  midst  of 
Philip's  distress,  however,  after  he  had  actually  been 
reduced  to  begging  on  the  way  from  Lyon  to  Paris, 
news  came  of  the  death  of  his  grandfather  on  Septem- 
ber 1 2th,  1656,  and  of  his  own  succession  to  the 
earldom. 

Hurrying  home  at  once,  the  new  Earl  not  only 
managed  to  make  up  the  quarrel  with  his  uncle,  but 
was  so  well  received  by  the  Protector  that  he  had  the 
offer  of  the  hand  of  one  of  his  daughters — either  Mary, 
afterwards    Countess     of     Falconberg,     or     Frances, 


12  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

afterwards  wife  first  of  Robert  Rich,  and  then  of  her 
relative  Sir  John  Russell — with  a  dowry  of  twenty- 
thousand  pounds,  and  a  high  command  for  himself, 
naval  or  military  according  to  his  preference.  From 
the  matrimonial  alliances  which  he  either  made 
or  might  have  made  during  his  life,  it  is  clear  that 
Chesterfield  was  looked  upon  as  a  most  desirable  match. 
But  he  refused  the  present  offer,  which,  he  says,  so 
offended  Cromwell  that  "  it  turned  his  kindness  into 
hatred,"  the  force  of  which  he  was  soon  destined  to 
experience. 

For  declining  Cromwell's  proposal  Chesterfield  had 
a  good  enough  personal  reason,  since  he  was  desirous 
at  this  time  of  marrying  Mary,  the  only  daughter  of 
Lord  Fairfax,  who  a  year  later  became  the  wife  of 
George  Villiers,  second  Duke  of  Buckingham,  after  he 
had  first  refused  the  hand  of  Frances  Cromwell,  it  was 
said.  In  fact,  the  Short  Notes  state  that  Chesterfield 
and  Mary  Fairfax  were  "  thrise  asked  in  St.  Martin's 
church  at  London"  (St.  Martin's,  Westminster). 
What  was  the  cause  of  the  engagement  being 
broken  off  when  it  had  got  so  far,  we  are  not 
informed.  But  we  do  know,  from  the  date  which 
Chesterfield  puts  on  the  first  letter  in  his  collec- 
tion endorsed  as  "  To  Mrs.  Villiers,  afterwards  Mrs. 
Pamer,  since  Dutches  of  Cleaveland,"  that,  during 
the  brief  period  of  little  more  than  six  months  between 
his  return  to  England  on  his  grandfather's  death  and 
the  legal  end  of   1656,^   the   gallant  Earl  not  only 

1  Chesterfield  reckons  the  year  in  the  old  st}le,  as  ending  on  March 
25th.     See  p.  325. 


BARBARA    VILLIERS  13 

refused  Cromwell's  daughter  and  engaged  himself  to 
Mary  Fairfax,  but  also  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Barbara  Villiers. 

Barbara  can  but  recently  have  attained  her  fifteenth 
birthday  when  she  met  her  first  lover  known  to  history. 
She  was  living  in  the  house  of  her  stepfather,  which  is 
conjectured  to  have  been  somewhere  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  St.  Paul's.  Lord  and  Lady  Anglesea  may  have 
been  in  straitened  circumstances,  but  they  were  too 
well  connected  to  sink  entirely  out  of  sight.  A  close 
friend  of  Barbara,  as  we  shall  see,  was  a  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton.  Whether  or  not  there  was  any 
previous  acquaintance  between  Chesterfield  and  the 
Angleseas,  before  he  had  been  back  in  England  six 
months  he  was  sufficiently  intimate  with  Mistress 
Villiers  to  send  her  a  letter  which,  if  more  formal 
than  those  which  followed  on  either  side,  argues  a 
friendship  of  exceedingly  rapid  growth. 

"  Madam,"  wrote  Chesterfield,  who  was  probably 
at  the  time  on  a  visit  to  his  estate  at  Bretby,  near  the 
Peak  in  Derbyshire,  "  Cruelty  and  absence  have  ever 
been  thought  the  most  infallible  remidies  for  such  a 
distemper  as  mine,  and  yet  I  find  both  of  them  so 
ineffectual!  that  they  make  mee  but  the  more  incur- 
able ;  seriously.  Madam,  you  ought  at  least  to  afford 
some  compassion  to  one  in  so  desperat  a  condition,  for 
by  only  wishing  mee  more  f  ortunat  you  will  make  mee 
so.  Is  it  not  a  Strang  magick  in  love,  which  gives  so 
powerful!  a  charme  to  the  least  of  your  cruel  words, 
that  they  indanger  to  kill  a  man  at  a  hundered  miles 
distance  ;  but  why  doe  I  complaine  of  so  pleasant  a 


14  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

death,  or  repine  at  those  sufferings  which  I  would  not 
change  for  a  diadem  ?  No,  Madam,  the  idea  I  have  of 
your  perfections  is  to  glorious  to  be  shadowed  either  by- 
absence  or  time  ;  and  if  I  should  never  more  see  the 
sun,  yet  I  should  not  cease  from  admiring  the  light ; 
therefore  doe  not  seeck  to  darken  my  weake  sence  by 
endeavoring  to  make  mee  adore  you  less ; 

For  if  you  decree  that  I  must  dy, 
faling  is  nobler,  then  retiring, 
and  in  the  glory  of  aspiring 
it  is  brave  to  tumble  from  the  sky." 

Chesterfield  was  a  better  judge  of  lovemaking  than 
of  poetry,  it  must  be  admitted.  But  no  doubt  his 
letter  gave  satisfaction  to  the  maiden  heart  of  her  to 
whom  it  was  addressed.  The  affair  progressed  rapidly, 
and  the  next  letters  in  the  series  preserved  by  His 
Lordship — it  is  easy  to  imagine  with  what  pride  this 
coxcomb  of  love  endorsed  them,  "  From  Mrs.  Villars, 
since  Dutches  of  Cleaveland  " — show  Barbara  writing 
in  a  most  passionate  strain,  in  spite  of  a  formality  of 
style  which  we  do  not  find  in  her  letters  later  in  life. 

"  My  Lord  [she  says  in  the  first], 

"  I  would  fain  have  had  the  happyness  to  have 
seen  you  at  church  this  day,  but  I  was  not  suffered  to 
goe.  I  am  never  so  well  pleased  as  when  I  am  with 
you,  though  I  find  you  are  better  when  you  are  with 
other  ladyes  ;  for  you  were  yesterday  all  the  af ternoune 
with  the  person  I  am  most  jealous  of,  and  I  know  I 
have  so  little  merrit  that  I  am  suspitious  you  love  all 
women  better  than  my  selfe.     I  sent  you  yesterday  a 


From  an  engraving  by  E.  Scrirrn,  after  a  fainting  ly  Sir  Peter  Lely 

PHILIP   STANHOPE,  SECOND    EARL   OF   CHESTERFIELD 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  15 

letter  that  I  think  might  convince  you  that  I  loved 
nothing  besides  your  selfe,  nor  will  I  ever,  though  you 
should  hate  mee  ;  but  if  you  should,  I  would  never 
give  you  the  trouble  of  telling  you  how  much  I  loved 
you,  but  keep  it  to  my  selfe  till  it  had  broke  my  hart. 
I  will  importune  you  no  longer  than  to  say,  that  I  am, 
and  will  ever  be,  your  constant  and  faithfull  humble 


servant." 


Her  next  note  is  even  more  formal,  almost  Chester- 
fieldian  ^  in  tone. 

"  My  Lord, 

"  I  doe  highly  regret  my  own  misfortune  of 
being  out  of  town,  since  it  made  mee  uncapable  of  the 
honour  you  intended  mee.  I  assure  you  nothing  is 
likelier  to  make  mee  sett  to  high  rate  of  my  selfe,  than 
the  esteem  you  are  pleasd  to  say  you  have  for  mee. 
You  cannot  bestow  your  favours  and  obligations  on  any 
that  has  a  more  pationat  resentment  of  them,  nor  can 
they  ever  of  any  receive  a  more  sincere  reception  than 
from, 

"  My  Lord, 

"  Yours,  &c." 

If  the  wording  of  her  second  letter  suggests  that 
Barbara  had  been  taking  a  lesson  in  literary  style  from 
him  to  whom  she  was  writing,  it  is  plain  from  her  third 

^  "No  man,"  says  the  author  of  the  memoir  prefixed  to  Chesterfield's 
letters,  "  has  left  more  elegant  specimens  of  that  peculiar  courtesy,  with 
which  an  object  of  the  passions  only  is  intreated  with  the  semblance 
of  respect."  It  seems,  from  a  comparison  of  these  early  letters  of 
Barbara  Villiers  with  those  which  she  wrote  to  Charles  II  in  1678,  for 
instance,  that  Chesterfield  must  have  edited  and  improved  the  letters 
which  he  transcribed  into  his  collection. 


i6  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

that  he  had  commenced  to  instruct  her  in  the  art  of 
which  she  was  to  become  so  notorious  a  professor  before 
many  more  years  had  gone  by. 

"  My  Lord  [she  says], 

"  It  is  ever  my  ill  fortune  to  be  disappointed  of 
what  I  most  desire,  for  this  afternoon  I  did  promis  to 
myselfe  the  satisfaction  of  your  company ;  but  I 
feare  I  am  disappointed,  which  I  assure  you  is  no  small 
affliction  to  mee  ;  but  I  hope  the  faits  may  yet  be  so 
kind  as  to  let  me  see  you  about  five  a  clock  ;  if  you  will 
be  at  your  private  lodgings  in  Lincoln's  Inn  feilds, 
I  will  endeavour  to  come,  and  assure  you  of  my 
being, 

"  My  Lord, 

"  Yours,  &c." 

It  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  usual  picture  of  life 
in  England  under  the  Commonwealth  to  find  a  girl 
between  fifteen  and  sixteen  being  allowed  by  her 
parents,  or  being  able  without  her  parents'  knowledge, 
to  visit  a  young  man  in  his  private  lodgings ;  but  we 
know  of  nothing  to  the  credit  of  Barbara's  mother  ex- 
cept that  her  first  husband  was  William  Villiers,  nor  of 
anything  at  all  to  that  of  Lord  Anglesea.  The  super- 
vision which  they  exercised  over  Barbara  was  evidently 
very  slight.  The  next  letter  preserved  by  Chesterfield 
is  written  jointly  by  her  and  her  chief  girl  friend, 
"  the  Lady  Ann  Hambleton,"  as  he  calls  her.  This 
Lady  Anne  was  one  of  the  five  daughters  of  the 
Duchess  of  Hamilton,  whom  the  battle  of  Worcester 
left   a   widow.      As   Lady   Carnegy,    and   afterwards 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  17 

Countess  of  Southesk,  she  figures  in  the  Gramont 
Memoirs  in  a  very  unfavourable  light.  About  a  year 
older  than  Barbara,  she  seems  at  the  age  of  seventeen 
already  to  have  laid  the  foundation  of  her  future  ill 
name. 

These  two  young  ladies  write  to  Chesterfield,  clearly 
before  rising  in  the  morning,  that  they  are  "  just  now 
abed  together  contriving  how  to  have  your  company 
this  afternoune,"  and  making  an  appointment  "  at 
Ludgate  Hill,  about  three  a  clock,  at  Butler's  shop," 
which  was  no  doubt  sufficiently  close  to  Lord  Angle- 
sea's  house  as  well  as  to  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  to  be 
convenient  to  all  parties.  The  Lady  Anne  may  be 
presumed  to  have  been  on  a  visit  to  her  friend's  home. 
She  was,  equally  with  Barbara  Villiers,  an  admirer  of 
Lord  Chesterfield  and  equally  a  willing  victim  to  the 
wiles  of  the  rake.  But  retribution  overtook  the  elder 
of  the  two  girls.  Chesterfield  for  some  reason  went  to 
"  Tunbridg,"  as  he  spells  it,  and  there  he  received  a 
letter  from  Barbara  in  which  she  said  :  "  I  came  just 
now  from  the  Dutches  of  Hambleton,  and  there  I 
found,  to  my  great  affliction,  that  the  Lady  Ann  was 
sent  to  Windsor,  and  the  world  sayes  that  you  are  the 
occation  of  it.  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  the  having  a 
kindness  for  you  is  so  great  a  crime  that  people  are  to 
suffer  for  it ;  the  only  satisfaction  that  one  doth  receive 
is,  that  their  cause  is  so  glorious  that  it  is  suffitient  to 
preserve  a  tranquilHty  of  mind,  that  all  their  maHce 
can  never  discompose." 

It  was  true  that  the  Lady  Anne  was  sent  away  in 
disgrace.    Chesterfield  preserved  a  note  from  her,  also 


1 8  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

written  in  the  courtly  style  of  which  he  himself  was 
the  great  exponent.  "  I  have  to  good  an  oppinion  of 
you,"  she  says,  "  not  to  believe  you  gratefull,  and  that 
made  mee  think  you  would  not  be  satisfied  if  I  should 
leave  you  for  ever  without  a  farewell."  She  sends 
"  this  advertisement  " — her  note — "  that  you  may 
give  mee  some  Adieus  with  your  eyes,  since  it  is  to  be 
done  noe  other  wav." 

Chesterfield's  reply  is  interesting  as  showing  how  the 
gallants  of  either  sex  met,  even  as  early  as  1657,  in 
places  that  after  the  Restoration  became  scandalous 
for  assignations  and  encounters  : 

"  Madam, 

"  Soon  after  your  ladyship's  departure,  I  came 
to  town,  and  went  to  the  Park  and  Spring  Garden,  just 
as  some  doe  to  Westminster  to  see  those  monuments, 
that  have  contained  such  great  and  lovely  persons. 
Seriously,  Madam,  I  may  well  make  the  comparison, 
since  you,  that  were  the  soul  of  this  little  world,  have 
carried  all  the  life  of  it  with  you,  and  left  us  so  dull, 
that  I  have  quite  left  of  the  making  love  to  five  or  six 
at  a  time,  and  doe  wholly  content  myselfe  with  the 
being  as  much  as  is  possible, 

''  Madam, 

"  Yours,  &c., 

"  C." 

To  what  extent  Lord  Chesterfield  "  left  of  the 
making  love  to  five  or  six  at  a  time  "  may  be  gathered 
from  the  warmth  of  a  letter  to  him  from  "  Mrs. 
Villars,"  in  which  she  speaks  of  doing  nothing  but 


BARBARA   VILLIERS      ''  19 

dream  of  him.  "  My  life  is  never  pleasant  to  mee," 
she  continues,  "  but  when  I  am  with.you  or  talking  of 
you  ;  yet  the  discourses  of  the  world  must  make  mee 
a  little  more  circumspect ;  therefore  I  desire  you  not  to 
come  tomorrow,  but  to  stay  till  the  party  be  come  to 
town.  I  will  not  faile  to  meet  you  on  Sathurday 
morning,  till  when  I  remain  your  humble  servant." 

Could  he  set  down  all  he  thought  (upon  the  subject 
of  the  kindness  which  he  should  show  to  her),  says 
Chesterfield  in  his  turn,  all  the  paper  of  the  town  were 
too  little  ;  "  for  having  an  object  so  transcending  all 
that  ever  was  before,  it  coins  new  thoughts,  which 
want  fresh  words,  to  speak  the  language  of  a  soul  that 
might  jusly  teach  all  others  how  to  love." 

As  if  to  make  sure  that  posterity  should  be  in  no 
doubt  as  to  his  ability  to  carry  on  simultaneously  a 
number  of  affairs,  Chesterfield  made  copies  of  letters 
addressed  to  him  by  other  ladies  about  the  same 
period,  including  one  from  the  Lady  Elizabeth 
Howard,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Berkshire  and  after- 
wards wife  of  Dryden,  whose  patron  Chesterfield 
became  later  in  life.  He  also  copied  a  letter  which  he 
received  from  Lady  Capel,  sister  of  his  late  wife,  in 
which  she  remonstrated  with  him  in  a  kindly  but 
serious  tone  about  the  rumours  which  reached  her  in 
the  country  as  to  his  misdoings.  "  Though  I  live 
here  where  I  know  very  little  of  what  is  done  in  the 
world,"  she  wrote,  "  yet  I  hear  so  much  of  your 
exceeding  wildness,  that  I  am  confident  I  am  more 
censible  of  it  than  any  freind  you  have ;  you  treate 
all  the  mad  drinking  lords,  you  sweare,  you  game,  and 


20  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

commit  all  the  extravagances  that  are  insident  to 
untamed  youths,  to  such  a  degree  that  you  make  your 
self  e  the  talke  of  all  places,  and  the  wonder  of  those  who 
thought  otherwise  of  you,  and  of  all  sober  people  ; 
and  the  worst  of  all  is,  I  heare  there  is  a  hansom  young 
lady  (to  both  your  shames)  with  child  by  you." 

Chesterfield  replied  impenitently,  complaining  that 
the  world  was  "  strangly  giving  to  lying,"  saying  that 
since  she  had  not  credited  his  former  professions  he 
could  not  now  expect  to  be  more  fortunate,  and 
desiring  her  to  forbear  censuring  on  his  account  one  of 
the  most  virtuous  persons  living — presumably  "  the 
hansom  young  lady."  Two  more  letters  passed 
between  them,  from  which  it  is  evident  that  Lady 
Capel's  esteem  for  her  brother-in-law  was  forfeited 
for  ever. 

Lord  Chesterfield,  however,  had  other  matters  to 
engage  his  attention  as  well  as  affairs  of  the  heart.  In 
the  year  after  his  introduction  to  Barbara  Villiers  he 
had  a  quarrel  with  a  Captain  John  Whalley,  on  account 
of  a  piece  of  impertinence  which  he  (Chesterfield) 
offered  to  a  lady,  fought  a  duel  with  him,  wounded  him, 
and  was  arrested  and  sent  to  the  Tower.  In  1658  he  was 
three  times  in  prison  again,  on  political  charges,  "  the 
fruit  of  his  attachment  to  the  exiled  Royal  Family,"  his 
biographer  says.  Cromwell  was  by  no  means  inclined  to 
be  friendly  with  him  now,  and  the  charge  of  treason 
against  the  existing  Government  was  pressed  so  far 
that  at  first  his  estate  was  sequestered.  But  in  the  end, 
"  with  great  charge  and  trouble,"  as  he  expresses  it 
himself,  he  got  off. 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  21 

In  this  stormy  year  Chesterfield's  intimacy  with 
Barbara  Villiers  may  well  have  been  interrupted  ;  and, 
indeed,  he  preserves  no  letters  between  himself  and  her 
which  bear  the  date  1658.  Moreover,  apart  from  the 
misfortunes  which  befell  him,  an  obstacle  arose  which 
temporarily,  at  least,  stood  in  the  way  of  their  meeting. 
What  this  was  must  be  left  to  the  next  chapter  to 
describe. 


CHAPTER   II 
BARBARA'S   MARRIAGE 

"  "CpURNISHED  by  bounteous  nature  and  by 
art,"  says  Boyer  in  a  passage  already  quoted, 
Barbara  Villiers  "  soon  became  the  object  of  divers 
young  gentlemen's  affections ;  and  among  the  rest 
Roger  Palmer,  Esq.,  then  a  student  in  the  Temple 
and  heir  to  a  good  fortune,  was  so  enamoured  with  her 
that  nothing  would  satisfy  him  less  than  to  have  the 
jewel  to  be  his  own.  It  was  reported  that  his  father, 
then  living,  having  strong  apprehensions  upon  him, 
foreboding  the  misfortunes  that  would  ensue,  used 
all  the  arguments  that  a  paternal  affection  could 
suggest  to  him,  to  disuade  his  son  from  prosecuting 
his  suit  that  way,  adding,  T^hat  if  he  was  resolved  to 
marry  her^  he  foresaw  he  should  he  one  of  the  most 
miserable  men  in  the  world.  The  predominancy  of  the 
son's  passion  was  such,  that  the  authority  and  dissua- 
sions of  the  father  availed  nothing ;  so  that  the 
marriage  between  him  and  Mrs.  Villiers  was  con- 
summated, not  long  before  the  Restoration  of  King 
Charles  II." 

The  Roger  Palmer  who  now  enters  into  the  story 
was  born  on  September  3rd,  1634,  ^^  Dorney  Court, 
Buckinghamshire,  being  son  of  Sir  James  Palmer  by 


22 


frotn  an  engy-aving by  Faithoinc 

ROGER   PALMER,    EARL   OF  CASTLEMAINE 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  23 

his  second  wife  Catherine.  On  both  sides  of  the 
family  his  ancestry  was  good.  Sir  James  Palmer  was 
a  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber  to  James  I,  and  an 
intimate  friend  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards 
Charles  I  ;  his  father  was  Sir  Thomas  Palmer,  known 
as  "  the  Travailer  "  on  account  of  a  book  he  published 
in  1606  entitled,  An  Essay  of  the  Meanes  how  to  make 
our  Travailes  into  forraine  Countries  the  more  profitable 
and  honourable ;  and  his  grandfather  and  great- 
grandfather, Sir  Henry  and  Sir  Edward,  both  soldiers 
of  repute.  Sir  James,  after  the  death  of  his  first  wife, 
leaving  him  a  son  and  a  daughter,  took  as  his  second 
Catherine,  widow  of  Sir  Robert  Vaughan.  This  lady 
was  daughter  to  William  Herbert,  first  Baron  Powis, 
a  leading  Roman  Catholic  nobleman,  whose  grandson, 
the  third  Lord  Powis,  was  destined  to  experience  many 
tribulations  in  the  company  of  Roger  Palmer  in  the 
reign  of  terror  set  up  by  Titus  Gates  and  his  friends. 

The  Palmers  were  well  off,  and  Roger  received  his 
education  at  Eton  and  at  King's  College,  Cambridge, 
entering  the  latter  at  the  age  of  seventeen.  Soon 
after  leaving  Cambridge — as  it  happened,  just  about 
the  time  when  his  future  wife  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Lord  Chesterfield — he  was  admitted  a  student  of 
the  Inner  Temple,  but  he  was  never  called  to  the  Bar, 
fate  having  other  things  in  store  for  him.  How  he 
came  to  meet  the  Anglesea  family  and  to  enrol  himself 
among  the  "  divers  young  gentlemen  "  who  set  their 
affections  upon  Barbara  Villiers  does  not  appear.  At 
the  Temple  he  must  have  been  within  easy  reach  of  her 
stepfather's  house,  and  no  doubt  to  the  ill-provided 


24  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

Angleseas  he  appeared  in  the  hght  of  a  most  welcome 
suitor  for  Barbara's  hand  ;  especially  if  her  name  was 
already  compromised  by  her  affair  with  Chesterfield, 
as  her  mention  of  "  the  discourses  of  the  world  " 
seems  to  show.  Sir  James  Palmer  did  not  necessarily 
exhibit  great  foresight  in  auguring  misfortunes  for 
his  son  arising  out  of  the  marriage,  if  Barbara  had 
caused  herself  to  be  talked  about  scandalously  at  the 
age  of  sixteen. 

But  Roger  was  not  to  be  denied,  and  on  April  14th, 
1659,  -^^  ^^^  Barbara  Villiers  were  married  at  the 
church  of  St.  Gregory  by  St.  Paul's,  one  of  the 
buildings  totally  destroyed  by  the  Great  Fire  of 
London  seven  years  later. 

The  character  of  Roger  Palmer  is  difficult  to  esti- 
mate. Jesse,  in  his  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  England, 
is  certainly  not  justified  in  summing  it  up  in  the  words, 
"  He  figures  through  a  long  life  as  an  author,  a  bigot, 
and  a  fool."  The  fact  that  he  became  a  Roman 
Catholic  and  was  employed  by  King  James  II  in 
positions  of  trust,  including  that  of  special  ambassador 
to  the  Pope,  caused  a  prejudice  against  him  in  the 
minds  of  many  of  those  who  wrote  about  him  during 
his  lifetime  or  soon  after  his  death.  His  narrow  escape 
from  being  one  of  the  victims  of  Titus  Oates,  and 
his  persecution  again  after  William  of  Orange  had 
mounted  the  English  throne,  were  typical  of  the  treat- 
ment of  which  he  was  thought  worthy  by  his  enemies. 
It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  he  should  by  some  of 
them  have  been  classed  among  those  husbands  who, 
Gramont's    friend    Saint-Evremond    told    him,   were 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  25 

typical  of  England — docile  with  regard  to  their  wives ; 
but  by  no  means  tolerant  of  the  inconstancy  of  their 
mistresses,  he  added.  This  is  a  question  to  which  we 
must  return  later,  but  it  may  be  said  here  that  what 
Boyer  calls  "  the  misfortunes  of  his  bed  "  would  seem 
naturally  to  demand  sympathy  for  him  rather  than 
contempt.  That  he  was  a  fool  to  marry  a  bad  woman 
cannot  be  denied.  But  he  did  not  do  so  wittingly, 
nor  was  he  the  first  or  last  man  to  do  so.  At  any  rate, 
after  his  discovery  of  his  wife's  worthlessness,  we  do 
not  find  him  seeking  consolation  in  the  usual  method 
in  vogue  at  the  Court  of  Charles  II  with  the  husbands 
of  meretricious  beauties.  There  is  a  singular  absence 
of  scandal  about  him,  in  an  age  when  scandal  left  few 
indeed  untouched. 

Apart  from  the  question  of  sexual  morality,  what 
we  hear  of  him  attracts  rather  than  repels.  Those  who 
were  not  utterly  biased  against  him  by  his  religion 
could  not  deny  him  some  merits.  Boyer  says  in  his 
obituary  notice  of  him  :  "  He  was  a  learned  person, 
well  vers'd  in  the  Mathematicks.  For  he  was  the 
inventor  of  a  horizontal  globe,  and  wrote  a  book  of  the 
use  of  it."  This  was  a  pamphlet  published  in  1679, 
entitled  The  English  Globe:  being  a  stable  and  im- 
mobil  one,  performing  what  ordinary  Globes  do  and  fuuch 
more.  He  was  also  the  author  of  An  Account  of  the 
Present  War  between  the  Venetians  and  the  Turks ; 
with  the  State  of  Candie,  based  on  his  experiences  with 
the  Venetian  squadron  in  the  Levant  in  1664 ; 
of  a  history,  in  French,  of  the  Anglo-Dutch  war  of 
1 665-1 667  ;    and  of  several  works  in  defence  of  the 


26  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

Roman  Catholic  faith  and  the  loyalty  of  the  Roman 
Catholics  in  England,  including  The  Catholique  Apology, 
which  Pepys  had  a  sight  of  on  December  ist,  1666, 
and,  without  knowing  who  was  the  writer,  found 
"  very  well  writ  indeed." 

Of  the  first  months  of  the  married  life  of  Roger  and 
Barbara  Palmer  nothing  is  known  until  we  come  once 
more  upon  a  letter  preserved  by  Lord  Chesterfield. 
From  this  it  appears  that  within  less  than  a  year  of  her 
marriage  Barbara  had  renewed  acquaintance  with  her 
lover,  and  that  Palmer  was  aware  of  the  fact  and 
resented  it.  Under  the  date  1659  Chesterfield  has  a 
letter  "  from  Mrs.  Pamer,  since  Dutches  of  Cleaveland," 
which  runs  thus  : 

"  My  Lord, 

"  Since  I  saw  you,  I  have  been  at  home,  and  I 
find  the  mounser  [sc.  monsieur]  in  a  very  ill  humer,  for 
he  sayes  that  he  is  resolved  never  to  bring  mee  to  town 
againe,  and  that  nobody  shall  see  me  when  I  am  in  the 
country.  I  would  not  have  you  come  to  day,  for  that 
would  displease  him  more ;  but  send  mee  wond. 
presently  what  you  would  advise  me  to  doe,  for  I  am 
ready  and  willing  to  goe  all  over  the  world  with  you, 
and  I  will  obey  your  commands,  that  am  whilst  I  live, 

"  Yours." 

Barbara  did  not,  however,  elope  with  Lord  Chester- 
field. Doubtless  he  had  not  the  slightest  desire  that 
she  should,  she  being  only  one  of  his  very  numerous 
flames.  And  for  a  time  all  possibility  of  her  doing  so 
was  removed.     Within  the  same  year,  1659,  she  was 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  27 

attacked  by  that  fearful  scourge  of  the  period,  small- 
pox, which  (as  can  be  seen  from  any  contemporary 
diary  or  collection  of  letters)  ravaged  almost  every 
family  in  England  without  distinction  of  rank.  As 
there  is  no  subsequent  mention  of  any  blemish  on 
Barbara's  beauty,  it  may  be  gathered  that  she  was 
not  marked  by  the  disease  ;  but  she  makes  herself  out  to 
have  a  bad  attack.  From  her  sick-bed  she  writes  to 
Chesterfield  : 

"  My  Dear  Life  "  [this  is  the  only  occasion  on  which 

she  departs  from  the  formal  My  Lord], 

"  I  have  been  this  day  extreamly  ill,  and  the 

not  hearing  from  you  hath  made  mee  much  worse 

then  otherwaves  I  should  have  been.    The  doctor  doth 

believe   mee   in   a   desperat   condition,   and   I    must 

confess,  that  the  unwillingness  I  have  to  leave  you, 

makes  mee  not  intertaine  the  thoughts  of  deathe  so 

willingly  as  otherwais  I  should  ;    for  there  is  nothing 

besides  yourself e  that  could  make  me  desire  to  live  a 

day ;   and,  if  I  am  never  so  happy  as  to  see  you  more, 

yet  the  last  words  I  will  say  shall  be  a  praire  for  your 

happyness,  and  so  I  will  live  and  dey  loving  you  above 

all  other  things,  who  am, 

"  My  Lord, 

"  Yours,  &c." 

In  other  circumstances  the  utter  abandonment  of 
this  letter  might  seem  pathetic.  But  Chesterfield's 
reply  hardly  suggests  that  he  was  deeply  touched.  It 
is  very  courtly  in  tone.  He  "  will  not  believe  that  you 
are  not  well,  for  the  certain  newse  of  your  being  sick 
would   infalibly   make  me  so ;    and   I   doe  not  find 


28  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

myselfe  yet  fitt  for  another  world."  And  so  on,  with 
no  expression  of  anxiety  beyond  the  request  that  she 
should  send  him  word  that  she  was  in  perfect  health. 

Barbara  recovered  in  due  course,^  and  announced 
the  fact,  in  a  letter  not  preserved.  Chesterfield,  in  the 
country  at  the  time,  thanked  her  for  the  news — "  tho 
it  was  but  a  peece  of  justice  in  you  to  lessen  the 
apprehentions  of  a  person  who  doth  more  participate 
in  your  good  and  bad  fortune,  than  all  the  rest  of 
mortals."  Had  he  thought  his  coming  to  town,  he 
added,  could  have  been  either  serviceable  or  accept- 
able to  her,  she  should  have  seen  him  in  London 
instead  of  his  name  at  the  bottom  of  a  letter. 

And  now,  after  smallpox  on  Barbara's  side  had  inter- 
rupted the  intimacy,  a  misfortune  befell  Chesterfield 
which  abruptly  removed  him  from  England.  Near  the 
beginning  of  Pepys's  Diary,  under  the  date  of  January, 
1660,  the  writer  tells  how  he,  when  taking  his  wife 
and  the  young  Edward  Montagu  by  coach  to  Twicken- 
ham, on  the  w^ay,  "  at  Kensington,  understood  how 
that  my  Lord  Chesterfield  had  killed  another  gentle- 
man about  half  an  hour  before,  and  was  fled." 

Without  waiting  for  arrest  and  trial — as  a  matter  of 
fact  he  might  have  done  so  safely,  for  the  jury  found 
it  "  chance-medley,"  it  is  recorded — Chesterfield  made 
for  Chelsea  and  escaped  thence  by  water  to  France. 

^  In  later  years  she  was  apparently  emboldened  by  her  early 
attack  to  be  without  dread  of  smallpox.  In  the  midst  of  an  epidemic 
in  London,  Moll  Davis,  her  actress  rival,  endeavoured  to  alarm  her 
with  the  suggestion  that  she  might  contract  the  disease  and  lose  her 
beauty  ;  whereon  she  scornfully  replied  that  she  had  no  fear,  for  she 
had  had  what  would  prevent  her  from  catching  it. 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  29 

From  here  he  wrote  to  King  Charles,  then  at  Brussels, 
asking  the  Royal  pardon  for  what  he  had  done,  and 
affirming  that  he  begged  a  forfeited  life  "  to  noe  other 
end  then  to  venter  it  on  all  occations  in  your  Majesties 
service  and  quarrel."  Charles  replied  in  a  most 
friendly  strain,  concluding  :  "  I  hope  the  time  is  at 
hand  that  will  put  an  end  to  our  calamities,  therefore 
pull  up  your  spirits  to  wellcome  that  good  time,  and  be 
assured  I  will  be  allwayes  very  kind  to  you  as  Your 
most  affectionat  friend  Charles  R."  Moreover,  the 
King  received  him  in  audience  at  Breda  in  April,  and 
granted  him  full  forgiveness  for  his  crime.  Chester- 
field departed  for  Paris  and  soon  afterwards  was  at 
Bourbon  (Bourbonne),  drinking  the  waters,  whence  he 
wrote  a  letter,  of  which  he  kept  a  copy,  to  Mrs. 
Palmer.  Then,  hearing  of  Charles's  intention  of 
proceeding  to  England,  he  made  for  Calais,  took  a 
boat,  joined  the  Naseby,  which  had  the  King  on  board, 
and  with  him  landed  again  at  Dover  on  May  26th. 

After  Barbara's  recovery  from  her  attack  of  small- 
pox, the  movements  of  the  Palmers  are  not  certainly 
known.  Airs.  Jameson,  in  her  Beauties  of  the  Court  of 
King  Charles  the  Second,  published  in  1833,  says  that 
Barbara's  "  first  acquaintance  with  Charles  probably 
commenced  in  Holland,  whither  she  accompanied  her 
husband  in  1659,  when  he  carried  to  the  King  a  con- 
siderable sum  of  money,  to  aid  in  his  restoration,  and 
assisted  him  also  by  his  personal  services."  Similarly 
Jesse,  writing  in  1840,  says  that  in  the  following 
year  after  their  marriage  the  Palmers  "  joined  the 
Court  of  Charles  in  the  Low  Countries,  where  the 


30  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

husband  made  himself  acceptable  by  his  loans,  and  the 
lady  by  her  charms."  Neither  of  these  late  writers 
mentions  any  authority  for  their  statements,  and 
contemporaries,  so  far  as  is  known,  are  silent  upon  the 
matter.  There  is  nothing  improbable,  however,  in  a 
visit  of  Roger  Palmer  and  his  wife  to  Holland  at  the 
beginning  of  1660.  Hither  Charles  moved  in  April, 
thinking  it  advisable  to  leave  the  Spanish  Netherlands 
at  this  period,  and  being  assured  of  a  benevolent 
attitude  on  the  part  of  the  Dutch  toward  his  attempt 
on  England.  Palmer's  loyalty,  like  that  of  all  his 
family,  was  well  known,  and  he  was  in  the  expectation, 
shared  by  so  many  other  Royalists  in  England,  of  a 
good  post  when  the  Restoration  should  come  about. 
Being  a  wealthy  man,  he  had  every  inducement  to  help 
King  Charles  with  his  money  when  money  was  all  that 
was  required  to  make  Charles's  prospects  brilliant.  In 
a  petition  which  he  made  to  the  King  in  the  following 
June  for  the  Marshalship  of  the  King's  Bench  Prison, 
he  represented  that  he  had  "  promoted  the  Royal  cause 
at  the  outmost  hazard  of  life  and  great  loss  of  fortune." 
We  cannot  tell  what  was  the  hazard  of  life  to  which  he 
was  exposed.  The  great  loss  of  fortune  may  well  have 
been  in  the  shape  of  loans  to  the  King,  who  certainly 
needed  cash.  Do  we  not  know  from  Pepys  "  in  what  a 
sad,  poor  condition  for  clothes  and  money  the  King  was, 
and  all  his  attendants  .  .  .  their  clothes  not  being 
worth  forty  shillings  the  best  of  them  "  ? 

With  regard  to  Barbara's  acquaintance  with  His 
Majesty,  it  is  certainly  curious,  in  view  of  the  notoriety 
of  their  relations  from  the  very  commencement  of 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  31 

his  reign,  that  no  writer  of  the  period  should  have 
recorded  the  time  or  place  of  their  earliest  meeting. 
Boyer  and  the  author  of  a  scurrilous    tract   entitled 
^he  Secret  History  of  the  Reigns  of  King  Charles  II 
and  King  James  II,  printed  in  1690,  both  state  that 
Mrs.  Palmer  was  with  the  King  at  Whitehall  Palace 
on  the  night  of  his  Restoration.     Another  account 
makes   the   King  withdraw  from  the  Palace  to   Sir 
Samuel   Morland's  house  in  Lambeth  to  spend  the 
night  after  his  arrival.     But  loyal  observers  of  the 
entry  of  King  Charles  into  London  did  not  see  Mrs. 
Palmer.   Evelyn  stood  in  the  Strand  on  May  29th  and 
beheld  "  a  triumph  of  above  20,000  horse  and  foote, 
brandishing    their    swords    and    shouting    with    inex- 
pressible joy  ;    the  wayes  strew'd  with  flowers,   the 
bells  ringing,  the  streetes  hung  with  tapistry,  foun- 
tains running  with  wine  ;    the  Maior,  Aldermen,  and 
all  the  Companies  in  their  liveries,  chaines  of  gold,  and 
banners ;  Lords  and  Nobles  clad  in  cloth  of  silver,  gold, 
and    velvet ;   the    windowes    and    balconies   well   set 
with  ladies ;  trumpets,  music,  and  myriads  of  people 
flocking,  even  so  far  as  from  Rochester,  so  as  they  were 
seven  houres  in  passing  the  Citty,  even  from  2  in  the 
afternoone  till  9  at  night."    He  sav\^,  too,  at  Whitehall, 
when  he  went  to  present  letters  from  Queen  Henrietta 
Maria  a  few  days  later,  "  the  eagerness  of  men,  women, 
and  children  to  see  His  Majesty  and  kisse  his  hands  .  .  . 
so  greate  that  he  had  scarce  leisure  to  eate  for  some 
dayes,  coming  as  they  did  from  all  parts  of  the  Nation  ; 
and  the  King  being  as  wiUing  to  give  them  that  satis- 
faction, would  have  none  kept  out,  but  gave  accesse  to 


32  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

all  sorts  of  people."  But  he,  who  is  so  outspoken  in 
his  opinion  of  the  royal  mistress  in  later  years,  has 
nothing  to  say  about  her  now.  Other  writers  are 
equally  silent.  The  only  positive  evidence  in  favour  of 
Barbara's  intimacy  with  King  Charles  at  this  date  is 
that,  in  her  second  letter  to  him  from  Paris  in  1678  ^ 
she  speaks  to  him  of  Lady  Sussex,  her  daughter  born 
on  February  25  th,  1661,  nine  months  after  the 
Restoration,  being  his  child. 

Amid  the  throng  about  Whitehall,  in  these  first 
days,  of  loyalists  and  pretended  loyalists,  benefactors  of 
the  King  during  his  famous  flight  from  Worcester,  and 
place-hunters  who  could  allege  little  or  no  reason  why 
they  should  receive  the  honours  which  they  coveted, 
one  might  think  it  difficult  for  His  Majesty  to  carry 
on  an  intrigue  secretly.  But  amid  the  enthusiastic 
rejoicings  of  the  Restoration  there  was  no  inclination 
to  be  censorious.  The  time  for  reflection  was  yet  to 
come,  when  the  hopes  of  a  Golden  Age  for  all  were 
seen  to  be  baseless,  and  a  fair  but  grasping  hand  was 
discovered  to  have  a  grip  that  none  could  relax  on  the 
royal  purse. 

The  Chancellor,  Lord  Clarendon,  puts  forward  a 
theory  of  the  reason  of  Charles's  abandonment  of 
himself  to  dissipation  now  which  does  credit  to  his 
loyalty.  He  says  that  the  "  unhappy  temper  and 
constitution  of  the  royal  party  " — rent  by  "  jealousies, 
murmurs,  and  disaffections  amongst  themselves  and 
against  each  other,"  and  all  scrambling  for  places — 
"  did   wonderfully   displease   and   trouble   the   king ; 

1  See  p.  232. 


Froii:  an  engraving  after  a  miniature  I'y  Sniiiuel  Coofier 

BARBARA   VILLIERS,   COUNTESS   OF  CASTLEMAINE 
AND   DUCHESS   OF   CLEVELAND 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  33 

and  .  .  .  did  so  break  his  mind,  and  had  that  opera- 
tion upon  his  spirits  that  finding  he  could  not  propose 
any  such  method  to  himself  hy  which  he  might  extri- 
cate himself  out  of  those  many  difficulties  and  laby- 
rinths in  which  he  was  involved,  nor  expedite  those 
important  matters  which  depended  upon  the  goodwill 
and  despatch  of  the  parliament,  which  would  proceed 
by  its  own  rules  and  with  its  accustomed  formalities, 
he  grew  more  disposed  to  leave  all  things  to  their 
natural  course  and  God's  providence  ;  and  by  degrees 
unbent  his  mind  from  the  knotty  and  ungrateful  part 
of  his  business,  grew  more  remiss  in  his  application  to 
.it,  and  indulged  to  his  youth  and  appetite  that  license 
and  satisfaction  that  it  desired,  and  for  which  he 
had  opportunity  enough,  and  could  not  be  without 
ministers  abundant  for  any  such  negotiations  ;  the 
time  itself,  and  the  young  people  thereof  of  either  sex 
having  been  educated  in  all  the  liberty  of  vice,  without 
reprehension  or  restraint." 

The  last  words  appear  to  apply  with  singular 
propriety  to  the  case  of  Barbara  Palmer  ;  though 
throughout  his  works  the  Chancellor  carefully  avoids 
mentioning  her  name,  never  designating  her  otherwise 
than  as  "  the  lady  "  when,  later,  he  is  compelled  to 
allude  to  her.  But  the  unfortunate  Roger,  at  any  rate, 
could  not  be  included  among  the  young  people  indicted 
by  Clarendon.  He  was,  on  the  other  hand,  one  of 
those  who  besieged  the  King  with  requests  for  a 
reward  for  services  rendered.  As  has  been  men- 
tioned, there  survives  a  petition  which  he  made  in 
the  June  after  Charles's  return  for  the  Marshalship  of 


D 


34  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

the  King's  Bench  Prison,  representing  that  he  had 
"  promoted  the  Royal  cause  at  the  utmost  hazard  of 
H£e  and  great  loss  of  fortune."  It  appears  from  the 
Domestic  State  Papers  of  Charles  II  that  it  was  not 
until  November  1661  that  the  warrant  was  made  out 
for  a  grant  to  Palmer  of  the  reversion  of  this  coveted 
office  after  Sir  John  Lenthall ;  and  by  that  time  much 
had  happened  to  make  the  King  inclined  to  be 
generous  to  him. 

If  he  had  to  wait  for  the  royal  recognition  of  his 
services,  Roger  Palmer  in  the  meanwhile  had  a  position 
of  some  credit.  In  the  Parliament  which  met  for  the 
first  time  on  April  25th,  and  played  its  part  in  welcom- 
ing the  King  back  to  England,  he  was  the  representa- 
tive for  New  Windsor.  He  took  a  house,  at  what  date 
is  not  known,  in  King's  Street,  Westminster,  described 
by  Pepys  as  the  "  house  which  was  Whally's  " ;  that  is  to 
say,  it  was  formerly  occupied  by  Major-General  Edward 
Whalley  the  regicide,  who  had  fled  to  America  on  the 
Restoration.  Here  Palmer  resided  in  the  early  days  of 
the  Restoration  summer  with  his  wife,  within  easy 
reach  of  the  Palace  at  Whitehall ;  "  My  Lord's 
lodgings  "  (as  Pepys  calls  Sir  Edward  Montagu's  town 
house  in  King's  Street)  which  were  next  door  to  the 
Palmers',  giving  access  to  the  Privy  Garden  of  the 
Palace. 

It  was  strange,  even  at  the  first,  that  Roger  should 
have  been  ignorant  of  his  wife's  famiUarity  with  the 
King,  if  it  commenced  at  the  end  of  May  ;  but  such 
seems  to  have  been  the  case.  The  earliest  contem- 
porary indication  of  a  scandal  is  to  be  found  in  Pepys, 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  35 

writing  on  July  13th,  1660.  The  diarist  had  gone  to 
the  house  of  his  kinsman  and  patron  on  business. 
"  Late  writing  letters,"  he  says ;  "  and  great  doings  of 
music  at  the  next  house,  which  was  Whally's  ;  the 
King  and  Dukes  there  with  Madame  Palmer,  a  pretty 
woman  that  they  have  taken  a  fancy  to,  to  make  her 
husband  a  cuckold.  Here  at  the  old  door  that  did  go 
into  his  lodgings,  my  Lord,  I,  and  W.  Howe,  did  stand 
listening  a  great  while  to  the  music." 

Three  months  afterwards,  Pepys  went  on  a  Sunday 
to  the  Chapel  Royal  attached  to  Whitehall  Palace, 
"  where  one  Dr.  Crofts  [the  Dean]  made  an  indifferent 
sermon,  and  after  it  an  anthem,  ill  sung,  which  made 
the  King  laugh."  Here  also  he  "  observed  how  the 
Duke  of  York  and  Mrs.  Palmer  did  talk  to  one  another 
very  wantonly  through  the  hangings  that  parts  the 
King's  closet  and  the  closet  where  the  ladies  sit." 
Charles  and  James  had  forgotten  their  upbringing  ; 
for  in  a  fragment  of  diary  for  1677-8  kept  by  Dr. 
Edward  Lake,  chaplain  and  tutor  to  the  Princesses 
Mary  and  Anne,  we  are  told  how  "  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter,  discoursing  of  and  lamenting  the  debaucherys 
of  the  nation,  and  particularly  of  the  Court,  imputed 
them  to  the  untimely  death  of  the  old  King,  who  was 
always  very  severe  in  the  education  of  his  present 
Majesty  :  insomuch  that  at  St.  Mary's  in  Oxford,  hee 
did  once  hit  him  on  the  head  with  his  staffe  when  he  did 
observe  him  to  laugh  (at  sermon  time)  upon  the  ladys 
who  sat  against  him." 

Pepys  had  not  yet,  it  appears,  conceived  that  vast 
admiration  for    the  royal  favourite   to  which  he  so 


36  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

amusingly  confesses  later.  But  the  beginning  of  it 
can  be  seen  in  his  entry  for  the  following  April, 
when  "  by  the  favour  of  one  Mr.  Bowman  "  he  was 
admitted  to  a  performance  before  the  Court,  in  the 
Cockpit,  of  The  Humorous  Lieutenant,  by  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher.  The  play  Pepys  found  "  not  very  well 
done."  "  But,"  he  says,  "  my  pleasure  was  great  to  see 
the  manner  of  it,  and  so  many  great  beauties,  but 
above  all  Mrs.  Palmer,  with  whom  the  King  do  discover 
a  great  deal  of  familiarity." 

It  is  not  until  three  months  later  that  Pepys  actually 
styles  the  lady  "  the  King's  mistress."  Yet  an  event 
had  occurred  which  might  have  put  the  matter  beyond 
all  question,  had  not  Barbara  Palmer's  conduct  nearly 
always  left  room  for  an  element  of  doubt  in  such  cases. 

About  the  end  of  January  i66i  Barbara  lost  her 
stepfather.  His  death  does  not  appear  to  have 
attracted  much  attention.  In  fact,  its  exact  date  is 
not  recorded,  though  his  burial  took  place  on  February 
4th.  The  Earl  of  Anglesea  made  no  impression  on  the 
affairs  of  his  lifetime,  and  his  stepdaughter  had  no 
reason  to  be  grateful  to  him  for  any  care  he  had 
bestowed  upon  her  during  the  years  when  she  lived 
under  his  roof.  Had  he  survived  a  few  weeks  longer 
he  would  have  seen  her  the  mother  of  a  child  to  whom 
different  people  assigned  three  fathers.  Anne,  after- 
wards Countess  of  Sussex,  was  born  on  February 
25th,  and  was  accepted  by  Roger  Palmer  as  his 
daughter.  It  is  only  Palmer's  subsequent  behaviour 
which  prevents  us  from  regarding  him  now  as  one  of 
Saint-Evremond's    "  docile    EngHsh   husbands."      As 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  37 

for  the  King — whether  it  was  that  he  really  thought 
Anne  was  Palmer's  or  that  he  was  precluded  from 
recognising  her  as  his  child,  the  mother  not  yet  having 
had  her  position  made  regular  even  after  the  manner 
of  such  connections — he  did  not  definitely  acknow- 
ledge the  paternity  until  the  time  of  Anne's  marriage 
to  Lord  Dacre  in  1674.  ^^  ^^^^  Y^^^  ^^  treated  her 
and  his  undisputed  daughter  Charlotte  on  precisely 
the  same  footing. 

But  there  were  many  who  said  that  the  real  father 
of  the  first  child  was  Lord  Chesterfield,  claiming  that 
Anne  Palmer  (or  Fitzroy)  resembled  him  in  face  and 
person.  The  supposed  likeness,  however,  is  the  only 
evidence  put  forward  in  support  of  the  theory. 
Chesterfield's  published  remains  do  not  give  any  hint 
of  his  fatherhood  to  Anne.  Early  in  1660  he  had 
married  his  second  wife  Lady  Elizabeth  Butler,  eldest 
daughter  of  Charles's  trusted  counsellor  and  Claren- 
don's friend,  the  Duke  of  Ormonde.  In  the  following 
year' we  find  him  writing  to  Barbara  two  letters  some- 
what cautiously  worded,  from  which  it  is  clear  that  he 
has  somehow  offended  her.  "After  so  many  years' 
service,  fidelity,  and  respect,"  he  says  in  one,  "  to  be 
banished  for  the  first  offence  is  very  hard,  especially 
after  my  asking  so  many  pardons."  "  Let  me  not 
live,"  begins  the  other,  "  if  I  did  believe  that  all  the 
women  on  earth  could  have  given  mee  so  great  an 
affliction  as  I  have  suffer'd  by  your  displeasure.  .  .  . 
If  you  will  neither  answer  my  letters,  nor  speak  to  mee 
before  I  goe  out  of  town,  it  is  more  than  an  even  lay  I 
shall  never  come  into  it  againe." 


38  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

As  to  what  aroused  Barbara's  extreme  displeasure 
there  is  no  indication.  Perhaps  it  was  the  mere  fact  of 
Chesterfield's  marriage,  ladies  of  her  kind  being  apt, 
when  they  have  once  really  bestowed  their  affection 
(as  undoubtedly  Barbara  had  on  Chesterfield),  to 
demand  in  return  a  constancy  as  strict  as  though  they 
were  themselves  immaculate.  But  it  was  assuredly 
not  her  first  lover's  devotion  to  his  wife  which  stirred 
her  to  anger ;  for  of  the  three  ladies  whom  he  married 
during  the  course  of  his  life,  the  beautiful  Ehzabeth 
Butler  was  the  one  for  whom  Chesterfield  felt  the 
least  affection.  The  lively  and  malicious  Memoirs  of 
Gramont  adduce  some  reason  for  this,  stating  that 
the  second  Lady  Chesterfield's  heart,  "  ever  open  to 
tender  sentiments,  was  neither  scrupulous  in  point  of 
constancy  nor  nice  in  point  of  sincerity."  Anthony 
Hamilton,  who  wrote  the  Memoirs  for  his  brother-in- 
law,  the  Comte  de  Gramont,  was  cousin  to  the  lady, 
and  should  have  known  what  her  character  was  like. 
He  represents  her  as  being  on  very  intimate  terms  with 
his  brother  James,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  again. 

After  the  birth  of  her  daughter,  Barbara  Palmer 
was  in  stronger  favour  than  ever  with  the  King. 
Pepys  records  various  appearances  of  hers  at  the 
theatre.  We  have  already  seen  her  at  the  Cockpit  in 
April.  On  July  23rd  Pepys,  in  the  afternoon,  finding 
himself  unfit  for  business,  goes  to  see  Suckling's 
Brennoralt  for  the  first  time.  "  It  seemed  a  good  play, 
but  ill  acted,"  he  comments  ;  "  only  I  sat  before  Mrs. 
Palmer,  the  King's  mistress,  and  filled  my  eyes  with 
her,  which  much  pleased  me."     He  was  now  fully 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  39 

under  the  spell  of  her  beauty.  Again  on  August  z/tli 
he  goes  with  his  wife  to  The  Jovial  Crew,  the  King, 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York,  and  Madame  Palmer 
being  present ;  "  and  my  wife,  to  her  great  content, 
had  a  full  sight  of  them  all  the  while."  On  September 
7th  he  is  wdth  his  wife  at  "  Bartholomew  Fayre  with 
the  puppet-show,  acted  to-day,  which  had  not  been 
these  forty  years."  The  Pepyses  seated  themselves 
"  close  by  the  King,  and  Duke  of  York,  and  Madame 
Palmer,  which  was  great  content  ;  and,  indeed,  I 
can  never  enough  admire  her  beauty."  Yet  only  a 
week  earlier  the  writer  is  lamenting  the  condition  of 
affairs  at  Court,  where  "  things  are  in  a  very  ill 
condition,  there  being  so  much  emulacion,  poverty, 
and  the  vices  of  drinking,  swearing,  and  loose  amours, 
that  I  know  not  what  will  be  the  end  of  it,  but  con- 
fusion "  !  Pepys  very  successfully  managed  to  admire 
the  sinner  and  (in  words  at  least)  abhor  the  sin.  But 
as  it  is  owing  to  his  admiration  of  this  particular 
sinner's  beauty  that  we  owe  his  frequent  allusions  to  her 
appearances  in  public,  when  other  writers  are  silent, 
we  can  but  feel  grateful  to  him  for  his  weakness. 

One  more  allusion  to  the  lady  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Diary  for  the  year  1661.  On  December  7th  Pepys 
sees  at  the  office  of  the  Privy  Seal  "  a  patent  for  Roger 
Palmer  (Madam  Palmer's  husband)  to  be  Earl  of 
Castlemaine  and  Baron  of  Limbricke  in  Ireland." 
He  continues  :  "  The  honour  is  tied  up  to  the  males 
got  of  the  body  of  this  wife,  the  Lady  Barbary  :  the 
reason  whereof  every  body  knows." 

There  have  come  down  to  the  present  day  two 


40  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

short  autograph  notes  from  King  Charles  to  Sir 
William  Morrice,  one  of  his  Secretaries  of  State.  In 
the  first,  dated  "Whitehall,  i6  Octr.,"  Charles  says: 
"  Prepare  a  warrant  for  Mr.  Roger  Palmer  to  be  an 
Irish  Earle,  to  him  and  his  heirs  of  his  body  gotten  on 
Barbara  Palmer,  his  now  wife,  with  the  date  blank  " — 
a  postscript  adding  :  "  Let  me  have  it  as  soon  as  you 
can."  The  second  message  has  the  date  "  Whitehall, 
8  Nov.,  morning,"  and  runs  :  "  Prepare  a  warrant  for 
Mr.  Roger  Palmer  to  be  barron  of  Limbericke  and 
Earle  of  Castlemaine,  in  the  same  forme  as  the  last 
was,  and  let  me  have  it  before  dinner." 

The  King  was  about  to  bestow  upon  her  whom 
Bishop  Burnet  calls  "  his  first  and  longest  mistress  " 
the  earliest  of  the  pubhc  manifestations  of  his  feelings 
for  her — and  the  only  one  in  which  her  husband  was  to 
share.  There  was  a  reason,  or  perhaps  it  should  be 
said  that  there  were  two  reasons,  why  he  should 
specially  wish  to  afford  her  gratification  at  this  time. 
In  the  first  place,  he  was  preparing  to  take  to  himself 
a  lawful  consort ;  and,  secondly,  Barbara  was  now  in 
expectation  of  a  child  about  whose  paternity  there 
was  never  any  discussion. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Sunday,  November  loth,  i66l, 
Pepys  went  and  sat  with  Mr.  Turner  in  his  pew  at  St. 
Gregory's — the  church  which,  nineteen  months  pre- 
viously, had  witnessed  the  wedding  of  Roger  Palmer 
and  Barbara  Villiers — and  there  he  heard  "  our  Queen 
Katherine,  the  first  time  by  name  as  such,  publickly 
prayed  for."  The  proposal  of  a  marriage  between 
Charles,    then   Prince   of   Wales,    and    Catherine    of 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  41 

Braganza  had  been  made  as  far  back  as  sixteen  years 
previously  by  the  lady's  father,  King  Juan  of  Portugal, 
when  she  was  but  seven  years  old.  It  was  renewed 
tentatively  by  the  Portuguese  Ambassador  in  England 
as  soon  as  the  Restoration  looked  probable,  and  on 
Charles's  return  took  definite  shape.  Portugal,  poor  as 
she  was  through  her  struggle  with  her  late  masters  the 
Spaniards,  offered  a  very  handsome  dowry,  including 
two  million  crusados  (about  -^300,000)  and  the 
settlements  of  Tangier  and  Bombay.  The  idea  of  the 
marriage  was  very  popular  with  the  Portuguese.  But 
the  Spanish  Court  was  very  strongly  against  it,  and 
attempts  were  made  to  dissuade  Charles  from  it 
through  the  agency  of  the  Earl  of  Bristol,  a  Roman 
Catholic  peer  in  high  favour  at  Madrid,  and  Baron  de 
Watteville,  the  Spanish  Ambassador  in  London. 
Catherine  was  declared  to  be  incapable  of  bearing 
children,  while  as  good  a  dowry  as  Portugal  offered 
was  promised  with  any  princess  whom  Charles  might 
marry  in  her  stead  with  the  approval  of  Spain. 
Moreover,  the  Vatican  was,  so  to  speak,  in  the  pocket 
of  Spain  at  this  time,  and  therefore  Rome's  blessing  on 
the  Anglo-Portuguese  union  was  not  to  be  expected. 

In  the  end,  however,  France  threw  her  weight  into 
the  scale  in  support  of  Portugal,  and  Charles  made 
up  his  mind  to  enter  upon  the  marriage.  On  May 
8th,  1 66 1,  the  opening  day  of  the  first  Parliament 
elected  during  his  reign,  he  announced  to  the  two 
Houses  his  intention  of  wedding  Catherine  of 
Braganza.  Six  weeks  later  the  marriage  treaty  was 
signed,  to  Sir  Edward  Montagu,  now  Lord  Sandwich, 


42  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

being  assigned  the  duty  of  bringing  over  the  Princess 
in  the  following  spring. 

To  no  one  could  the  signing  of  the  treaty  of 
marriage  be  of  more  serious  importance  than  to  the 
royal  mistress,  and  the  grant  of  a  title  to  the  Palmers 
has  all  the  appearance  of  an  attempt  at  consolation 
on  the  part  of  the  King.  His  Majesty,  however,  in  his 
desire  to  confer  this  honour  on  his  favourite  was  met 
by  a  great  difficulty.  His  Chancellor  and  Treasurer, 
both  indispensable  to  him,  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  Mrs.  Palmer,  and  united  together  by  a  fast  friend- 
ship stood  out  against  Charles's  designs  in  her  regard. 
They  resolved,  says  Bishop  Burnet,  "  never  to  make 
application  to  her  nor  to  let  anything  pass  in  which 
her  name  was  mentioned."  Burnet  finds  this  conduct 
"  noble  in  both  these  lords,"  but  especially  in  Claren- 
don. Southampton  was  not  much  concerned  whether 
he  lost  his  office  or  not,  and  had  not  such  powerful 
enemies.  But  the  Chancellor  "  was  both  more  pushed 
at  and  was  more  concerned  to  preserve  himself,  so  that 
his  firmness  was  truly  heroical." 

Clarendon  himself  tells  us,  with  regard  to  Barbara's 
mortal  hatred  for  him,  that  she  well  knew  "  that  there 
had  been  an  inviolable  friendship  between  her  father 
and  him  to  his  death  .  .  .  and  that  he  was  an  im- 
placable enemy  to  the  power  and  interest  she  had  with 
the  King,  and  had  used  all  the  endeavours  he  could  to 
destroy  it." 

In  concert  with  the  lady  the  King  devised  a  way  of 
circumventing  the  opposition  which  he  knew  that  the 
Chancellor  would  offer  to  the  conferring  of  a  title  upon 


f 


BARBARA'S    MARRIAGE  43 

Roger  Palmer.  As  we  have  seen,  he  asked  his  Secretary 
of  State  for  a  warrant  for  Palmer  to  be  an  Irish  earl. 
According  to  Burnet,  this  plan  was  first  suggested  by- 
Lord  Orrery,  one  of  the  Lords  Justices  of  Ireland. 
Its  advantage  was  that  the  patent  would  not  have  to 
come  before  the  Lord  Chancellor  of  England.  It  was 
sent  over  to  Ireland  to  pass  the  Great  Seal  there.  For 
the  present,  the  matter  was  kept  secret  from  Clarendon 
and  other  hostile  persons.  What  the  Chancellor 
thought  when  the  news  was  divulged  to  him  by  the 
King  we  shall  see  below.  Here  we  may  mention  a  story 
told  by  him  of  an  attempt  by  the  Earl  of  Bristol  (who 
hated  him)  to  make  capital  of  the  delay.  Bristol  went 
to  the  favourite  and  asked  her  whether  the  patent  was 
passed.  She  answered  no,  whereon  he  told  her  that 
it  had  been  taken  to  the  Chancellor  ready  for  the 
Great  Seal,  but  that  he,  "  according  to  his  custom, 
had  superciliously  said  that  he  would  first  speak  with 
the  King  of  it,  and  that  in  the  meantime  it  would  not 
pass  ;  and  that  if  she  did  not  make  the  King  very 
sensible  of  this  his  insolence.  His  Majesty  should  never 
be  judge  of  his  own  bounty."  The  lady  laughed  and 
"  made  sharp  reflections  on  the  principles  of  the 
Earl  of  Bristol.  Then,  pulling  the  warrant  out  of  her 
pocket,  where  she  said  it  had  remained  ever  since  it 
was  signed,  and  she  believed  the  Chancellor  had  heard 
of  it  :  she  was  sure  there  was  no  patent  prepared,  and 
therefore  he  could  not  stop  it  at  the  Seal." 

Barbara,  therefore,  although  she  had  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  she  would  before  long  be  called  Lady 
Castlemaine,  was  compelled  to  wait  for  a  while.     As 


44  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

for  the  prospective  Earl,  there  is  no  ground  for 
assuming  that  he  felt  any  pleasure  at  the  bestowal  of 
this  public  mark  of  the  King's  affection  for  his  wife. 
Clarendon,  indeed,  represents  Barbara  as  being  in  fear 
that  he  would  try  to  stop  the  passing  of  the  patent.  ^ 
He  was  clearly  now  at  last  "  sensible  of  his  wife's 
infidelity,"  though  until  the  birth,  which  was  soon 
expected,  of  her  first  son  by  Charles  he  made  no  open 
break  with  her. 

^  Clarendon,  calling  Palmer  "a  private  gentleman  of  a  competent 
fortune,  that  had  not  the  ambition  to  be  a  better  man  than  he  was  born," 
says  that  he  "  knew  too  well  the  consideration  that  he  paid  for  it  [his 
earldom],  and  abhorred  the  brand  of  such  a  nobility  and  did  not  in  a 
long  time  assume  the  title."  He  is  said  never  to  have  taken  his  seat 
in  the  Irish  House  of  Lords. 


I 


From  ,1  piiinting;  by  Sir  Pctey  Lely 


BARBARA  VILLIERS,   COUNTESS   OF   CASTLEMAINE 
AND    DUCHESS  OF   CLEVELAND 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   AFFAIR   OF   THE   QUEEN'S 
BEDCHAMBER 

'"  I  "'HE  period  preceding  the  arrival  in  England  of 
Catherine  of  Braganza  was  one  of  anxiety  to  the 
newly  created  Countess.  She  had  her  title,  it  was 
true,  and  probably  had  already  extracted  from  Charles 
a  promise  of  a  further  honour,  about  which  we  shall 
hear  soon.  But  the  approach  of  the  royal  marriage 
encouraged  the  tongues  of  those  who  disliked  her 
ascendancy  over  the  King  to  greater  boldness  against 
her.  Pepys,  on  January  22nd,  1662,  hears  of  "factions 
(private  ones  at  Court)  about  Madam  Palmer." 
"  What  it  is  about  I  know  not,"  he  adds.  "  But  it  is 
something  about  the  King's  favour  to  her  now  that 
the  Queen  is  coming."  On  April  13th  Mr.  Pickering 
tells  him  how  all  the  ladies  "  envy  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine,"  presumably  on  account  of  her  title,  which 
seems  now  coming  into  general  use.  And  on  the  21st 
of  the  same  month  the  diarist  gets  hold  of  a  choicer 
piece  of  gossip  from  Sir  Thomas  Crew,  how  that  "  my 
Lady  Duchess  of  Richmond  and  Castlemaine  had  a 
falling  out  the  other  day  ;  and  she  did  call  the  latter 
Jane  Shore,  and  did  hope  to  see  her  come  to  the  same 
end  that  she  did." 

This  was  not  the  only  time  that  the  name  of  Jane 

45 


46  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Shore  was  to  be  coupled  with  the  Countess's  ;  and 
the  comparison  could  scarcely  be  gratifying  to  her. 
But  my  Lady  Castlemaine  probably  was  at  no  loss  for 
a  retort,  if  we  may  judge  by  her  powers  of  abuse  at 
other  times. 

The  uncharitable  lady  who  made  the  remark  on  the 
present  occasion  was  a  kinswoman  of  Barbara,  by 
birth  Mary  Villiers,  daughter  of  the  first  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  married  first  to  Lord  Herbert  and 
secondly  to  the  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Lennox,  by 
whom  she  was  left  again  a  widow  in  1655.  The  reason 
for  the  Duchess's  enmity  toward  the  Royal  mistress  is 
nowhere  stated  ;  but  her  brother  George  was  also 
hostile  to  Barbara  during  the  greater  part  of  his  career 
at  Court,  so  that  there  may  have  been  some  family 
quarrel  of  which  we  do  not  know  the  particulars. 

The  ladies  at  Court  made  a  shrewd  guess  that  King 
Charles  would  find  it  difficult  to  shake  off  his  mistress's 
yoke.  Lady  Sandwich,  talking  to  Pepys  on  May  14th, 
is  "  afeared  that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  will  keep  with 
the  King."  "  And  I  am  afeard  she  will  not,"  writes 
Pepys  ingenuously,  "  for  I  love  her  well."  Seven  days 
later  the  entry  in  his  Diary  is  more  artless  still.  He 
goes  with  Mrs.  Pepys  to  Lord  Sandwich's  lodgings 
and  walks  with  her  in  Whitehall  Privy  Garden.  "  And 
in  the  Privy  Garden  saw  the  finest  smocks  and  linnen 
petticoats  of  my  Lady  Castlemaine's,  laced  with  rich 
lace  at  the  bottom,  that  ever  I  saw  ;  and  did  me  good 
to  look  upon  them."  Going  out  to  dinner  the  same 
day  with  his  wife  and  Sarah,  Lord  Sandwich's  house- 
keeper, he  is  told  by  the  latter  "  how  the  King  dined 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  47 

at  my  Lady  Castlemaine's,  and  supped,  every  day  and 
night  the  last  week  ;  and  the  night  that  the  bonfires 
were  made  for  joy  of  the  Queen's  arrivall,  the  King  was 
there  ;  but  there  was  no  fire  at  her  door,  though  at  all 
the  rest  of  the  doors  almost  in  the  street ;  which  was 
much  observed.  .  .  .  But  she  is  now  a  most  discon- 
solate creature,  and  comes  not  out  of  doors  since  the 
King's  going."  After  dinner  they  proceeded  to  the 
theatre  and  "  there  with  much  pleasure  gazed  upon 
her  " — out  of  doors  after  all,  it  seems,  in  spite  of  her 
disconsolate  state — "  but  it  troubles  us  to  see  her  look 
dejectedly  and  slighted  by  people  already." 

The  King  left  London  and  the  disconsolate  lady 
on  May  19th,  having  been  unable  to  proceed  to 
Portsmouth  hitherto  owing  to  the  necessity  of  pro- 
roguing Parliament  before  he  went.  But  Catherine 
had  reached  England  as  early  as  the  13th.  Her  de- 
parture from  Lisbon  with  Lord  Sandwich,  on  board 
The  Royal  Charles,  had  been  delayed  by  a  dispute  as 
to  the  form  in  which  a  most  important  part  of  her 
dowry  should  be  paid  (Portugal  offering  "  sugars  and 
other  commoditys  and  bills  of  exchange  "  in  lieu  of 
the  promised  crusados),  or  she  would  have  arrived 
earlier  still.  Off  the  Isle  of  Wight  the  Royal  Charles 
was  boarded  by  the  Duke  of  York,  accompanied  by 
Lord  Chesterfield  among  others,  whom  Charles  had 
appointed  chamberlain  to  his  bride.  In  his  Notes 
Chesterfield  records  that  His  Royal  Highness,  out  of 
compHment  to  the  King,  would  not  salute — that  is, 
kiss — Catherine,  "  to  the  end  that  His  Majesty  might 
be  the  first  man  that  ever  received  that  favour,  she 


48  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

coming  out  of  a  country  where  it  was  not  the  fashion." 
In  his  Letters  there  is  one  to  his  friend  Mr.  Bates 
(written  after  the  King  had  reached  Portsmouth), 
which  contains  a  description  of  Catherine  worth  trans- 
cribing : 

"  You  may  credit  her  being  a  very  extraordinary 
woman,"  he  writes ;  "  that  is,  extreamly  devout, 
extreamly  discreet,  very  fond  of  her  husband,  and  the 
owner  of  a  good  understanding.  As  to  her  person, 
she  is  exactly  shaped,  and  has  lovely  hands,  excellent 
eyes,  a  good  countenance,  a  pleasing  voice,  fine  haire, 
and,  in  a  word,  is  what  an  understanding  man  would 
wish  a  wife.  Yet,  I  fear  all  this  will  hardly  make 
things  run  in  the  right  channel ;  but,  if  it  should,  I 
suppose  our  Court  will  require  a  new  modelling." 

Charles  was  at  Portsmouth  on  May  20th,  and  on  the 
following  day  was  married  to  Catherine,  first  secretly 
in  her  bedchamber,  according  to  the  Roman  Catholic 
rites  (on  which  she  insisted),  and  then  publicly  by  the 
Bishop  of  London.  On  his  wedding  day  he  wrote 
to  the  Lord  Chancellor  :  "  If  I  have  any  skill  in 
visiognomy,  which  I  think  I  have,  she  must  be  as  good 
a  woman  as  was  ever  borne."  On  the  25th  he  wrote 
again  :  "  I  cannot  easily  tell  you  how  happy  I  think 
myselfe  ;  and  I  must  be  the  worst  man  living  (which 
I  hope  I  am  not)  if  I  be  not  a  good  husband.  I  am 
confident  never  two  humors  were  better  fitted  to- 
gether than  ours  are."  How  he  proceeded  to  prove 
himself  a  good  husband  will  shortly  appear.  In  the 
meantime  it  may  be  noted  that  Reresby  says  that, 
though    at    Portsmouth    "  everything    was    gay    and 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  49 

splendid  and  profusely  joyful,  it  was  easy  to  discern 
that  the  King  was  not  excessively  charmed  with  his 
new  bride  "  ;  and,  according  to  Lord  Dartmouth,  the 
King  told  old  Colonel  Legge  (i.e.  William  Legge,  Dart- 
mouth's father)  that  when  he  first  saw  the  Queen  "  he 
thought  they  had  brought  him  a  bat  instead  of  a  woman." 

Clarendon,  recipient  of  his  King's  good  resolutions 
concerning  his  behaviour  to  his  wife,  has  much  to  say 
concerning  Charles  and  Catherine  during  the  period 
immediately  following  their  meeting  at  Portsmouth. 
Speaking  of  the  "  full  presumption  "  which  there  was 
that  the  King  after  his  marriage  would  contain  him- 
self within  the  strict  bounds  of  virtue  and  conscience, 
he  continues  :  "  And  that  His  Majesty  himself  had 
that  firm  resolution,  there  want  not  many  arguments, 
as  well  from  the  excellent  temper  and  justice  of  his 
own  nature  as  from  the  professions  he  had  made  with 
some  solemnity  to  persons  who  were  believed  to  have 
much  credit,  and  who  had  not  failed  to  do  their  duty, 
in  putting  him  in  mind  '  of  the  infinite  obligations  he 
had  to  God  Alm.ighty,  and  that  he  expected  another 
kind  of  return  from  him,  in  the  purity  of  mind  and 
integrity  of  life  '  ;  of  which  His  Majesty  was  piously 
sensible,  albeit  there  was  all  possible  pains  taken  by 
that  company  which  were  admitted  to  his  hours  of 
pleasure,  to  divert  and  corrupt  all  those  impressions 
and  principles,  which  his  own  conscience  and  reverent 
esteem  of  Providence  did  suggest  to  him." 

As  for  the  Queen,  Clarendon  says  that  she  "  had 
beauty  and  wit  enough  to  make  herself  very  agreeable  " 
to  Charles,  and  that  "  it  is  very  certain  that  at  their 


£ 


50  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

first  meeting,  and  for  some  time  after,  the  King  had 
very  good  satisfaction  in  her,  and  without  doubt  made 
very  good  resolutions  within  himself  and  promised 
himself  a  happy  and  innocent  life  in  her  company, 
without  any  such  uxoriousness  as  might  draw  the 
reputation  upon  him  of  being  governed  by  his  wife." 
Charles  had  observed  the  inconvenient  effects  of  such 
uxoriousness  as  this  and  had  protested  against  it, 
according  to  Clarendon  ;  though  "  they  who  knew 
him  well  did  not  think  him  so  much  superior  to  such 
a  condescension  "  himself,  had  only  the  Queen  been 
like  some  of  her  predecessors  on  the  throne.  The 
writer  might  have  mentioned,  and  no  doubt  had  in 
mind,  Queen  Henrietta  Maria,  the  inconvenient  effects 
of  whose  influence  over  her  husband  he  had  only  too 
good  reason  to  appreciate. 

But  Catherine  of  Braganza  was  of  a  very  different 
stamp  from  that  of  her  mother-in-law.  "  Bred, 
according  to  the  mode  and  discipline  of  her  country, 
in  a  monastery,  where  she  had  only  seen  the  women 
who  attended  her  and  conversed  with  the  religious 
who  resided  there,  and  without  doubt  in  her  inclina- 
tions .  .  .  enough  disposed  to  have  been  one  of  that 
number,"  she  brought  with  her  from  Portugal  a  large 
suite  of  men  and  women  whom  Clarendon  considered 
"  the  most  improper  to  promote  that  conformity  in 
the  Queen  that  was  necessary  for  her  condition  and 
future  happiness  that  could  be  chosen  :  the  women 
for  the  most  part  old  and  ugly  and  proud,  incapable 
of  any  conversation  with  persons  of  quality  and  a 
liberal  education."     (We  are  reminded   of  Evelyn's 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  51 

description  of  the  Queen's  "  traine  of  Portuguese 
ladies  in  their  monstrous  fardingals  or  guard-infantas, 
their  complexions  olivader  and  sufficiently  unagree- 
able "  ;  and  of  Pepys's "  Portugall  ladys,  which  are  come 
to  town  before  the  Queen,  .  .  .  not  handsome,  and 
their  farthingales  a  strange  dress.")  These  ladies, 
whom  the  English  critics  found  so  unpleasing  to  the 
eye,  desired  to  keep  the  Queen  under  their  own  con- 
trol and  to  prevent  her  from  learning  the  language  or 
adopting  the  manners  and  fashions  of  her  new  country. 
On  reaching  Portsmouth,  Catherine  had  been  met  by 
some  of  the  ladies  of  honour  assigned  to  her  by  Charles, 
but  had  refused  to  receive  them  until  the  King  him- 
self came  ;  "  nor  then  with  any  grace  or  the  liberty 
which  belonged  to  their  places  and  offices."  ^  His 
Majesty  had  sent  also  a  wardrobe  of  English  clothes  to 
Portsmouth,  which  at  first  Catherine  declined  to  wear, 
preferring  the  farthingales  in  which  she  had  arrived. 
But,  finding  that  the  King  vv^as  displeased  and  would 
be  obeyed,  she  conformed  to  his  wishes,  much  to  the 
disgust  of  her  Portuguese  women.  They  persisted  in 
dressing  in  their  accustomed  mode,  regardless  of  the 
offence  to  English  taste. 

On  May  25th,  at  once  his  birthday  and  the  anni- 
versary of  his  Restoration,  Charles  brought  his  bride 
to  Hampton  Court,  where  it  was  intended  to  pass  the 

^  It  is  only  fair  to  state  that  the  Portuguese  side  of  the  case,  which 
is  given  by  Miss  Strickland  in  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England  Vol.  V, 
represents  Catherine  as  gracious  to  the  English  ladies  and  quite  docile 
in  the  matter  of  dress.  It  is  difficult  to  see,  however,  why  Clarendon 
should  misrepresent  the  Queen,  to  whom  he  was  a  better  friend  than 
most  at  the  English  Court. 


52  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

greater  part  of  the  summer.  And  here  he  planned  to 
introduce  to  Catherine  the  lady  who  had  illicitly 
occupied  her  place  before  her  arrival  in  England.  He 
had  doubtless  promised  Lady  Castlemaine  to  do  so 
as  early  as  the  matter  could  be  arranged.  But  the 
Countess's  bodily  condition  prevented  the  intro- 
duction from  taking  place  at  once.  At  some  time  in  the 
first  half  of  June  she  gave  birth  to  her  eldest  son  Charles 
"  Palmer,"  afterwards  called  Fitzroy.  She  had  had  the 
assurance,  according  to  what  Lady  Sandwich  told 
Pepys  in  May,  to  talk  of  going  to  Hampton  Court 
for  the  birth.  But  this,  perhaps,  was  more  than  even 
Charles  H  could  tolerate  at  the  time  of  his  marriage, 
and  the  event  accordingly  took  place  at  Lord  Castle- 
maine's  house  in  King  Street. 

If  the  day  of  the  little  Charles's  birth  is  not  known, 
the  register  of  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  gives 
the  date  of  his  christening.  Here  we  read  :  "  1662 
June  18  Charles  Palmer  Ld  Limbricke,  s.  to  y^  right 
honor''^^  Roger  Earl  of  Castlemaine  by  Barbara."  This 
entry  is  a  monument  to  the  last  act  but  one  in  the 
married  life  of  Lord  and  Lady  Castlemaine.  The  Earl 
some  time  before  the  child's  birth  became  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  now  insisted  upon  his  being  baptized 
by  a  priest — which  is  curious,  as  he  can  have  been  under 
no  impression  that  Charles  was  his  son.  He  got  his 
way,  but  at  the  cost  of  a  falling  out  with  his  wife.  Of 
this  "  Mrs.  Sarah "  told  Pepys  next  month ;  and, 
living  next  door  to  the  Castlemaines,  she  was  doubtless 
fully  informed  of  all  that  went  on  there.  Lady 
Castlemaine  "  had  it  again  christened  by  a  minister  ; 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  53 

the  King,  and  Lord  of  Oxford,  and  Duchesse  of 
Suffolk,  being  witnesses ;  and  christened  with  a  proviso 
that  it  had  not  already  been  christened."  Pepys  here 
writes  Duchess  for  Countess,  the  godmother  being 
Barbara,  Countess  of  Suffolk,  eldest  daughter  of  Sir 
Edward  Villiers,  and  therefore  Lady  Castlemaine's 
aunt.    Otherwise  his  information  was  right. 

The  King  had  practically  made  public  acknow- 
ledgment of  his  fatherhood  of  the  so-called  Charles 
Palmer.  He  now  proceeded  to  carry  out  his  promise 
of  presenting  the  mother  to  his  wife.  We  cannot  do 
better  than  give  Clarendon's  celebrated  account  of 
the  scene  which  took  place,  noting  that  the  date  given 
— within  a  day  or  two  after  Her  Majesty's  being 
at  Hampton  Court — cannot  be  correct.  The  presenta- 
tion must  have  taken  place  after  Lady  Castlemaine 
had  arisen  from  bed,  and  it  is  not  likely  to  have  pre- 
ceded the  christening. 

"  When  the  Queen  came  to  Hampton-court,"  says 
Clarendon,  "  she  brought  with  her  a  formed  resolution, 
that  she  would  never  suffer  the  lady  who  was  so  much 
spoken  of  to  be  in  her  presence  :  and  afterwards  to 
those  she  would  trust  she  said,  '  her  mother  had  en- 
joined her  so  to  do.'  On  the  other  hand,  the  King 
thought  that  he  had  so  well  prepared  her  to  give  her  a 
civil  reception,  that  within  a  day  or  two  after  Her 
Majesty's  being  there,  himself  led  her  into  her  cham- 
ber, and  presented  her  to  the  Queen,  who  received  her 
with  the  same  grace  as  she  had  done  the  rest ;  there 
being  many  lords  and  other  ladies  at  the  same  time 
there.     But  whether  Her  Majesty  in  the  instant  knew 


54  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

who  she  was,  or  upon  recollection  found  it  afterwards, 
she  w^as  no  sooner  sat  in  her  chair,  but  her  colour 
changed,  and  tears  gushed  out  of  her  eyes,  and  her 
nose  bled,  and  she  fainted  ;  so  that  she  was  forthwith 
removed  into  another  room,  and  all  the  company  re- 
tired out  of  that  where  she  was  before.  And  this 
falling  out  so  notoriously  when  so  many  persons  were 
present,  the  King  looked  upon  it  with  wonderful  in- 
dignation, and  as  an  earnest  of  defiance  for  the  decision 
of  the  supremacy  and  who  should  govern,  upon  which 
point  he  was  the  most  jealous  and  the  most  resolute 
of  any  man ;  and  the  answer  he  received  from  the  Queen, 
which  kept  up  the  obstinacy,  displeased  him  more." 

One  of  the  principal  sufferers  from  this  Royal 
quarrel  was  the  Portuguese  Ambassador,  Dom  Fran- 
cisco de  Mello  de  Torres,  who  had  done  so 
much  to  promote  the  match  between  them  and  had 
been  made  a  marquis  as  a  reward.  Already  there  had 
been  some  difficulty  through  the  inability  of  Portugal 
to  pay  more  than  half  the  portion  promised  with 
Catherine.  Now  Charles  was  indignant  with  him 
"  for  having  said  so  much  in  Portugal  to  provoke  the 
Queen,  and  not  instructing  her  enough  to  make  her 
unconcerned  in  what  had  been  before  her  time,  and 
in  which  she  could  not  reasonably  be  concerned  "  ; 
and  Catherine,  who  was  god-daughter  to  de  Mello, 
still  more  for  "  the  character  he  had  given  of  the 
King,  of  his  virtue  and  good  nature."  The  poor 
Ambassador  fell  ill  and  nearly  died  before  he  was 
forgiven  for  the  blunders  which  he  had  made  under 
the  impression  that  he  was  acting  for  the  best. 


Fro>n  a  photograph  by  W.  A.  ManseUi^  Co.,  a/tir  a  painti/ig 
in  the  National  Poi-trait  Gallery  by  Jacob  Huysiiiaiis 


CATHERINE   OF    liRAC.ANZA,  QUEEN    OF   CHARLES    II 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  55 

After  the  scene  described  above,  Charles,  according 
to  the  Chancellor's  account,  "  forebore  Her  Majesty's 
company,  and  sought  ease  and  refreshment  in  that 
jolly  company  to  which  in  the  evenings  he  grew  every 
day  more  indulgent,  and  in  which  there  were  some 
who  desired  rather  to  inflame  than  to  pacify  his  dis- 
content. And  they  found  an  expedient  to  vindicate 
his  royal  jurisdiction,  and  to  make  it  manifest  to  the 
world  that  he  would  not  be  governed."  This  ex- 
pedient was  to  magnify  the  temper  and  constitution 
of  his  grandfather  !  His  Majesty  King  James  I,  they 
pointed  out,  "  when  he  was  enamoured,  and  found  a 
return  answerable  to  his  merit,  did  not  dissemble  his 
passion,  nor  suffered  it  to  be  matter  of  reproach  to  the 
persons  whom  he  loved  ;  but  made  all  others  pay  them 
that  respect  which  he  thought  them  worthy  of  : 
brought  them  to  the  court,  and  obliged  his  own  wife 
the  Queen  to  treat  them  with  grace  and  favour  ;  gave 
them  the  highest  titles  of  honour,  to  draw  reverence 
and  application  to  them  from  all  the  court  and  all  the 
kingdom  ;  raised  the  children  he  had  by  them  to  the 
reputation,  state,  and  degree  of  princes  of  the  blood, 
and  conferred  fortunes  and  offices  upon  them  ac- 
cordingly." They  reproached  the  present  King,  who 
had  the  same  passions  as  his  grandfather,  for 
lacking  "  the  gratitude  and  noble  inclination  to  make 
returns  proportionable  to  the  obligations  he  received," 
and  said  :  "  That  he  had,  by  the  charms  of  his  person 
and  his  professions,  prevailed  upon  the  affections  and 
heart  of  a  young  and  beautiful  lady  of  a  noble  extrac- 
tion, whose  father  had  lost  his  life  in  the  service  of  the 


56  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

crown.  That  she  had  provoked  the  jealousy  and  rage 
of  her  husband  to  that  degree,  that  he  had  separated 
himself  from  her  :  and  now  the  Queen's  indignation 
had  made  the  matter  so  notorious  to  the  world,  that 
the  disconsolate  lady  had  no  place  of  retreat  left,  but 
must  be  made  an  object  of  infamy  and  contempt  to  all 
her  sex,  and  to  the  whole  world." 

This  touching  picture  of  the  wronged  lady  (which, 
by  the  way,  seems  premature,  as  Lord  and  Lady 
Castlemaine  did  not  definitely  separate  until  July  14th, 
if  Pepys  is  correct)  did  its  part  in  spurring  Charles  on 
to  bestow  a  fresh  honour  upon  her.  He  "  resolved, 
for  the  vindication  of  her  honour  and  innocence,  that 
she  should  be  admitted  of  the  bedchamber  of  the 
Queen,  as  the  only  means  to  convince  the  world  that 
all  aspersions  upon  her  had  been  without  ground.  The 
King  used  all  the  ways  he  could,  by  treating  the  Queen 
with  all  caresses,  to  dispose  her  to  gratify  him  in  this 
particular,  as  a  matter  in  which  his  honour  was  con- 
cerned and  engaged  ;  and  protested  unto  her,  which 
at  that  time  he  did  intend  to  observe,  '  that  he  had 
not  the  least  familiarity  with  her  since  Her  Majesty's 
arrival,  nor  would  ever  after  be  guilty  of  it  again,  but 
would  live  always  with  Her  Majesty  in  all  fidelity  for 
conscience  sake.'  The  Queen,  who  was  naturally  more 
transported  with  choler  than  her  countenance  declared 
her  to  be,  had  not  the  temper  to  entertain  him  with 
those  discourses  which  the  vivacity  of  her  wit  could 
very  plentifully  have  suggested  to  her  ;  but  broke  out 
into  a  torrent  of  rage,  which  increased  the  former 
prejudice,  confirmed  the  King  in  the  resolution  he  had 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  57 

taken,  gave  ill  people  more  credit  to  mention  her  dis- 
respectfully, and  more  increased  his  aversion  from  her 
company,  and,  which  was  worse,  his  delight  in  those 
who  meant  that  he  should  neither  love  his  wife  or  his 
business,  or  anything  but  their  conversation." 

When  did  Charles  first  resolve  to  have  Lady  Castle- 
maine  appointed  to  the  Queen's  Bedchamber  ?  Claren- 
don, we  see,  makes  him  treat  the  appointment  as  a 
kind  of  reparation  for  the  scorn  of  the  world,  which 
she  had  incurred  through  her  connection  with  him. 
Did  he  make  up  his  mind  after  the  Hampton  Court 
scene,  or  had  she  herself  suggested  the  idea  to  him 
before  Catherine's  arrival  in  England  ?  Among  the 
State  Papers  of  the  year  1662  there  is  preserved  a 
warrant,  dated  April  2nd,  for  the  Countess  of  Suffolk 
to  be  "  Groomess  of  the  Stole,"  First  Lady  of  the 
Bedchamber,  Mistress  of  the  Robes,  and  Keeper  of 
the  Privy  Purse  to  the  Queen  when  her  Household 
should  be  established  ;  and  we  read  in  a  letter  from 
Lord  Sandwich  to  Clarendon  on  May  15th  of 
Catherine's  reception  of  "  my  Lady  Suffolke  and  the 
ladies."  But  we  find  no  warrant  appointing  sub- 
ordinate Ladies  of  the  Bedchamber  until  as  late  as 
June  1663. 

It  looks  as  if  Charles,  having  already  decided  on 
Lady  Castlemaine's  inclusion  in  the  Queen's  House- 
hold, but  anticipating  trouble  over  it,  had  kept  back 
the  appointment  of  all  the  ladies  (except  the  indis- 
pensable Countess  of  Suffolk)  until  he  could  coerce  the 
Queen  into  accepting  the  whole  suite. 

Now,   met   by   Catherine's   point-blank   refusal   to 


58  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

accept  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine,  Charles  called 
upon  his  Chancellor  to  take  a  hand  in  the  affair.  It 
would  have  been  better  for  Clarendon  had  he  declined 
the  commission.  But  could  he  do  so  except  by  re- 
signing his  office  and  retiring  into  private  life,  to  expose 
himself  to  the  assaults  of  his  foes  ?  The  King  was 
insistent  that  he  should  undertake  the  task,  and  when 
Charles  set  his  mind  to  get  a  thing  done  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  contradict  him.  "  You  and  I  know  what 
a  spark  he  is  at  going  through  with  anything,"  wrote 
Anne,  Countess  of  Sunderland,  about  Charles  on  a 
later  occasion  to  her  friend  Henry  Sidney. 

Clarendon  is  at  great  pains  to  prove  his  friendly 
intention  toward  the  Queen  in  going  to  her  from  the 
King  and  to  report  his  plain  speaking  in  the  presence  of 
His  Alajesty  before  he  set  out  on  his  errand.  He 
represents  himself  as  not  having  heard  before  this  "  of 
the  honour  the  King  had  done  that  lady  " — the  lady's 
name  is,  as  always,  unmentioned — "  nor  of  the  pur- 
pose he  had  to  make  her  of  his  wife's  bedchamber." 
With  regard  to  the  latter  resolve,  he  says  that  he 
spoke  to  Charles  about  "  the  hard-heartedness  and 
cruelty  in  laying  such  a  command  upon  the  Queen, 
which  flesh  and  blood  could  not  comply  with."  He 
reminded  him  how  he  himself  had  censured  "  the  like 
excess  which  a  neighbour  King  had  lately  used,  in 
making  his  mistress  live  in  the  court,  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Queen,"  which  Charles  had  declared  a  piece 
of  ill-nature  that  he  could  never  be  guilty  of.  In  his 
righteous  indignation  at  the  French  King's  conduct 
Charles,  it  appears,  had  said  that,  if  ever  he  should  be 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  59 

guilty  of  having  a  mistress  after  he  had  a  wife  (which 
he  hoped  he  never  should  be),  she  should  never  come 
where  his  wife  was ;  for  he  would  never  add  that  to  the 
vexation  of  which  she  would  have  enough  without  it  ! 
After  some  truly  English  reflections  upon  the  lower 
state  of  morality  in  France,  the  Chancellor  warned  his 
master  that  there  was  no  surer  way  to  lose  the  affections 
of  his  people  than  by  indulging  himself,  after  his 
marriage,  in  that  excess  which  had  already  lost  him 
some  ground.  He  concluded  by  asking  His  Majesty's 
pardon  for  speaking  so  plainly  and  beseeching  him  "  to 
remember  the  wonderful  things  which  God  had  done 
for  him,  and  for  which  he  expected  other  returns  than 
he  had  yet  received." 

Few  kings  have  been  better  able  to  bear  a  rating 
with  good  humour  than  Charles  H.  Clarendon  says 
now  :  "  The  King  heard  him  with  patience  enough, 
yet  with  those  little  interruptions  which  were  natural 
to  him,  especially  to  that  part  where  he  had  levelled 
the  mistresses  of  kings  and  princes  with  other  lewd 
women,  at  which  he  expressed  some  indignation,  being 
an  argument  often  debated  before  him  by  those  who 
would  have  them  looked  upon  above  any  other  men's 
wives.  He  did  not  appear  displeased  with  the  liberty 
he  had  taken,  but  said  he  knew  it  proceeded  from  the 
affection  he  had  for  him  ;  and  then  proceeded  upon 
the  several  parts  of  what  he  had  said,  more  volubly 
than  he  used  to  do,  as  upon  points  in  which  he  was 
conversant  and  had  heard  well  debated." 

The  most  interesting  part  of  the  King's  argument, 
however,  was  the  impassioned  appeal  with  which  he 


6o  MY    LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

concluded  on  behalf  of  his  favourite  ;  which,  indeed, 
is  so  curious  that  no  apology  need  be  offered  for 
quoting  it  in  full  from  the  pages  of  Clarendon. 
Charles  said  :  "  That  he  had  undone  this  lady,  and 
ruined  her  reputation,  which  had  been  fair  and  un- 
tainted till  her  friendship  for  him ;  and  that  he  was 
obliged  in  conscience  and  honour  to  repair  her  to  the 
utmost  of  his  power.  That  he  would  always  avow  to 
have  a  great  friendship  for  her,  which  he  owed  as  well 
to  the  memory  of  her  father  as  to  her  own  person  ; 
and  that  he  would  look  upon  it  as  the  highest  disrespect 
to  him  in  anybody  who  should  treat  her  otherwise  than 
was  due  to  her  own  birth  and  the  dignity  to  which 
he  had  raised  her.  That  he  liked  her  company  and 
conversation,  from  which  he  would  not  be  restrained, 
because  he  knew  there  was  and  should  be  all  innocence 
in  it  :  and  that  his  wife  should  never  have  cause  to 
complain  that  he  brake  his  vows  to  her,  if  she  would 
live  towards  him  as  a  good  wife  ought  to  do,  in 
rendering  herself  grateful  and  acceptable  to  him,  which 
it  was  in  her  power  to  do  ;  but  if  she  would  continue 
uneasy  to  him,  he  could  not  answer  for  himself  that 
he  should  not  endeavour  to  seek  content  in  other  com- 
pany. That  he  had  proceeded  so  far  in  the  business 
that  concerned  the  lady,  and  was  so  deeply  engaged 
in  it,  that  she  would  not  only  be  exposed  to  all  imagin- 
able contempt,  if  it  succeeded  not ;  but  his  own 
honour  would  suffer  so  much  that  he  should  become 
ridiculous  to  the  world  and  be  thought  too  in  pupilage 
under  a  governor  ;  and  therefore  he  would  expect  and 
exact  a  conformity  from  his  wife  herein,  which  should 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  6i 

be  the  only  hard  thing  he  would  ever  require  from 
her,  and  which  she  herself  might  make  very  easy,  for 
the  lady  would  behave  herself  with  all  possible  duty 
and  humility  unto  her,  which  if  she  should  fail  to  do 
in  the  least  degree,  she  should  never  see  the  King's 
face  again  :  and  that  he  would  never  be  engaged  to 
put  any  other  servant  about  her,  without  first  con- 
sulting with  her  and  receiving  her  consent  and  appro- 
bation. Upon  the  whole,"  he  said,  "  he  would  never 
recede  from  any  part  of  the  resolution  he  had  taken 
and  expressed  to  him  :  and  therefore  he  required  him 
to  use  all  those  arguments  to  the  Queen  which  were 
necessary  to  induce  her  to  a  full  compliance  with  what 
the  King  desired." 

Clarendon's  account  of  the  King's  obstinate  deter- 
mination to  gain  his  end  is  supplemented  by  a  letter 
which  survives  in  the  British  Museum  from  Charles 
to  his  Chancellor,  which,  though  undated,  obviously 
belongs  to  this  period  and  may  have  been  written 
immediately  after  the  interview  above  described.  It 
runs  as  follows  : 

"  I  forgott,  when  you  weare  heere  last,  to  desire  you 
to  give  Brodericke^  good  councell,  not  to  meddle  any 
more  with  what  concerns  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  and 
to  lett  him  have  a  care  how  he  is  the  authorre  of  any 
scandalous  reports  ;  for  if  I  find  him  guilty  of  any 
such  thing,  I  will  make  him  repent  it  to  the  last 
moment  of  his  hfe.  And  now  I  am  entered  on  this 
matter,  I  think  it  very  necessary  to  give  you  a  little 

1  "  Brodericke  "  is  Sir  Alan  Broderick,  appointed  about  this  time 
Provost-Marshal  of  Munster. 


62  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

good  councell  in  It,  least  you  may  think  that,  by 
making  a  further  stirr  in  the  businesse,  you  may 
deverte  me  from  my  resolution,  which  all  the  world 
shall  never  do  :  and  I  wish  I  may  be  unhappy  in  this 
world  and  the  world  to  come,  if  I  faile  in  the  least 
degree  what  I  have  resolved  ;  which  is,  of  making  my 
Lady  Castlemaine  of  my  wives  bedchamber  :  and 
whosoever  I  find  use  any  endeavour  to  hinder  this 
resolution  of  myne  (except  it  be  only  to  myself e),  I 
will  be  his  enemy  to  the  last  moment  of  my  life.  You 
know  how  true  a  friend  I  have  been  to  you.  If  you 
will  oblige  me  eternally,  make  this  businesse  as  easy 
as  you  can,  of  what  opinion  soever  you  are  of  ;  for  I 
am  resolved  to  go  through  with  this  matter,  lett  what 
will  come  of  it ;  which  againe  I  solemnly  sweare  before 
Almighty  God.  Therefore,  if  you  desire  to  have  the 
continuance  of  my  friendship,  meddle  no  more  with 
this  businesse,  except  it  be  to  beare  down  all  false 
scandalous  reports,  and  to  facilitate  what  I  am  sure 
my  honour  is  so  much  concerned  in  :  and  whosoever 
I  finde  to  be  my  Lady  Castlemaines  enimy  in  this 
matter,  I  do  promise,  upon  my  word,  to  be  his  enimy 
as  long  as  I  live.  You  may  show  this  letter  to  my 
Ld.  Lnt.^;  and  if  you  have  both  a  minde  to  oblige  me, 
carry  yourselves  like  friends  to  me  in  this  matter. 

"  Charles  R." 

To  execute  his  commission  from  the  King,  it  was 
necessary  for  Clarendon  to  have  two  interviews  with 
the  Queen.  When  he  first  approached  her,  before  he 
could  do  more  than  express  his  regrets  about  the  royal 

^  The  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  namely,  the  Duke  of  Ormonde, 
who  went  to  take  up  his  post  at  the  beginning  of  July  1662.  Evelyn 
visited  London  to  take  leave  of  him  and  the  Duchess  on  July  8th. 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  63 

misunderstanding,  Catherine  gave  way  to  so  much 
passion  and  such  a  torrent  of  tears  that  he  retired, 
telHng  her  he  would  wait  upon  her  in  a  fitter  season. 
Next  day  he  made  a  second  attempt,  which  promised 
well  at  the  start.  Clarendon  reports  the  dialogue  with 
more  humour  than  usually  is  to  be  found  in  his  pages. 
When  he  had  explained  that  if  he  said  to  her  what 
was  fit  for  her  to  hear  rather  than  what  pleased  her, 
she  must  take  it  as  evidence  of  his  devotion  to  her,  the 
Queen  assured  him  he  should  never  be  more  welcome 
to  her  than  when  he  told  her  of  her  faults.  "  To 
which  he  replied  that  it  was  the  province  that  he  was 
accused  of  usurping  with  reference  to  all  his  friends." 
And  so  his  lecture  began.  "  He  told  her  that  he 
doubted  she  was  little  beholden  to  her  education,  that 
had  given  her  no  better  information  of  the  follies  and 
iniquities  of  mankind,  of  which  he  presumed  the 
climate  from  whence  she  came  could  have  given  more 
instances  than  this  cold  region  would  afford" — though 
at  that  time,  adds  Clarendon,  it  was  indeed  very  hot 
in  England ! 

Had  Her  Majesty  been  fairly  dealt  with  in  the  matter 
of  education,  continued  the  Chancellor,  she  would  not 
now  think  her  condition  so  insupportable.  He  could 
not  comprehend  the  ground  of  her  complaint.  With 
"  some  blushing  and  confusion  and  some  tears," 
Catherine  explained  that  she  did  not  think  she  should 
have  found  the  King  engaged  in  his  affections  to 
another  lady.  Did  she  then  expect,  asked  Clarendon, 
to  find  the  King,  at  his  age,  of  so  innocent  a  constitu- 
tion as  to  be  reserved  for  her  whom  he  had  never 


64  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

seen  ?  And  did  she  believe  that  when  it  should  please 
God  to  send  a  queen  to  Portugal  she  would  find  that 
court  so  full  of  chaste  affections  ?  "  Upon  which  Her 
Majesty  smiled,  and  spake  pleasantly  enough,  but  as 
if  she  thought  it  did  not  concern  her  case,  and  as  if 
the  King's  affection  had  not  wandered,  but  remained 
fixed." 

The  Chancellor  appeared  to  be  gaining  his  end. 
Assuring  Catherine  that,  of  whatever  excesses  His 
Majesty  had  been  guilty  in  the  past,  he  was  now 
dedicating  himself  entirely  and  without  reserve  to 
her,  and  that  her  good  fortune  was  in  her  own  power, 
he  persuaded  her  to  express  her  gratitude  toward  the 
King,  her  desire  to  be  pardoned  for  any  passion  or 
peevishness  in  the  past,  and  her  assurance  of  obedience 
in  the  future. 

With  what  feelings  Clarendon  now  approached  the 
second  part  of  his  task,  he  does  not  tell  us.  Having 
brought  the  Queen  to  so  good  a  temper,  he  lost  no 
time  in  urging  her  to  show  her  resignation  to  whatso- 
ever His  Majesty  should  desire  of  her.  He  then  "  in- 
sinuated what  would  be  acceptable  with  reference  to 
the  lady."  No  sooner  had  he  done  this  than  the 
storm  burst.  Catherine  exhibited  "  all  the  rage  and 
fury  of  yesterday,  with  fewer  tears,  the  fire  appearing 
in  her  eyes  where  the  water  was."  Rather  than  sub- 
mit to  the  insult  of  having  Lady  Castlemaine  attached 
to  her  Bedchamber,  she  declared,  she  would  get  on 
board  any  little  boat  and  go  to  Lisbon.  Clarendon 
interrupted  her  with  the  reminder  that  she  had  not 
the  disposal  of  her  own  person  and  with  a  warning  not 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  65 

to  speak  any  more  about  Portugal,  since  there  were 
plenty  who  wished  her  there.  He  then  left  her  v/ith 
the  doubtless  admirable  advice,  if  she  denied  any- 
thing to  the  King,  "  to  deny  in  such  a  manner  as 
should  look  rather  like  a  deferring  than  an  utter 
refusal." 

It  is  true  that  the  attitude  assumed  by  the  Chancellor 
toward  Catherine,  somewhat  resembling  that  of  master 
toward  school-child,  would  have  been  more  appro- 
priate had  he  been  counselling  her  to  the  practice  of 
virtue  rather  than  the  overlooking  of  vice.  Yet  we 
can  see  from  his  account  of  the  whole  affair  that  he 
was  really  much  more  sympathetic  toward  the  Queen 
than  he  allowed  himself  to  seem  in  his  speech ;  and 
he  appears  to  have  believed  Charles's  promises  of 
amendment  of  life,  if  only  his  debt  to  Lady  Castle- 
maine  could  first  be  paid  by  giving  her  a  suitable  post 
at  Court.  In  reporting  to  Charles  the  result  of  his 
labours  he  asked  him  not  to  press  the  Queen  in  the 
matter  for  a  day  or  two,  but  to  let  him  first  have 
another  interview  with  her,  from  which  he  hoped  to 
get  better  satisfaction. 

The  King,  however,  had  other  advisers,  who  were 
anxious  to  see  him  insist  on  immediate  submission. 
Playing  upon  his  fear  of  being  governed,  they  soon 
counteracted  the  Chancellor's  influence,  and  in  conse- 
quence the  crisis  was  precipitated  that  very  night  at 
Hampton  Court ;  and  of  course  the  matter  was  soon 
known  to  all  there.  The  royal  couple  began  with 
mutual  reproaches,  Charles  alleging  stubbornness  and 
want  of  duty  ;    Catherine  tyranny  and  want  of  affec- 


66  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

tion.  Then  came  threats,  on  Charles's  part,  of  con- 
duct which,  according  to  Clarendon,  he  never  meant 
to  put  into  execution  ;  on  Catherine's,  of  a  return  to 
Portugal.  The  Queen  had  disregarded  the  Chancel- 
lor's advice  about  the  mention  of  her  country,  and 
was  at  once  put  in  a  position  to  appreciate  her  folly. 
Charles  told  her  that  she  would  do  well  first  to  know 
how  her  mother  would  receive  her  ;  in  order  to  let 
her  discover  which  he  would  send  home  all  her  Portu- 
guese servants,  to  whose  counsels  he  imputed  her 
perverseness. 

After  this  outburst,  the  relations  between  King 
and  Queen  were  very  strained  during  the  remainder 
of  their  stay  at  Hampton  Court.  The  Queen  sat 
weeping  in  her  chamber — that  chamber  which  Evelyn 
visited  on  June  9th  of  this  summer  and  found  so 
magnificently  furnished,  with  its  state  bed  costing 
j^Sooo,  its  toilet-set  of  beaten  and  massive  gold,  and 
the  Indian  cabinets  brought  by  Catherine  herself 
from  Portugal,  such  as  had  never  before  been  seen  in 
England.  Or,  if  she  were  not  weeping,  she  was  in- 
dulging in  violent  talk  over  her  wrongs.  The  King 
spent  all  his  nights  in  merriment  with  the  company 
which  he  preferred,  and  only  came  to  the  Queen's 
chamber  in  the  morning ;  "  for,"  says  Clarendon, 
"  he  never  slept  in  any  other  place."  This  concession 
to  his  wife,  however,  seems  to  have  had  little  effect. 
The  courtiers  noticed  that  King  and  Queen  never 
spoke  and  hardly  looked  at  one  another.  It  is  rather 
curious  to  read  Pepys's  "  Observations  "  set  down  in 
his  Diary  at  the  end  of  June  1662.    "  This  I  take  to 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  e>'] 

be  as  bad  a  juncture  as  ever  I  observed,"  he  says. 
"  The  King  and  his  new  Queen  minding  their  pleasures 
at  Hampton  Court.    All  people  discontented,"  etc. 

Clearly  Pepys  was  for  the  moment  out  of  touch  with 
Court  afFairs,  for  otherwise  he  could  not  have  written 
of  Catherine,  at  least,  "  minding  her  pleasures  at 
Hampton  Court."  A  few  days  after  he  had  penned 
his  Observations  he  w^as  given  some  further  in- 
sight into  affairs  at  Hampton  Court,  since  on  July 
6th  Lady  Sandwich  told  him,  "  with  much  trouble, 
that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  is  still  as  great  with  the 
King,  and  that  the  King  comes  as  often  to  her  as  ever 
he  did."  "  At  vv^hich,  God  forgive  me,"  adds  the 
diarist,  "  I  am  well  pleased."  The  fears  which  he 
expresses  earlier  of  the  admired  one's  nose  being  put 
"  out  of  joynt  "  are  allayed,  and  he  appears  not  to 
give  a  thought  to  the  Queen. 

Charles  determined  to  make  another  effort  to  bend 
Catherine  to  his  will  with  the  aid  of  the  Chancellor, 
and  a  few  days  after  the  quarrel  sent  for  him  and 
informed  him — though  Clarendon  could  hardly  be 
in  any  doubt  upon  the  point — of  the  unalterableness 
of  his  resolution.  In  reply  to  his  minister's  remon- 
strances on  the  anger  and  precipitation  with  which  he 
had  acted,  he  allowed  that  he  might  have  done  better 
had  he  listened  to  advice,  but  said  that,  "  besides  the 
uneasiness  and  pain  within  himself,  the  thing  was  more 
spoken  of  in  all  places  and  more  to  his  disadvantage, 
whilst  it  was  in  this  suspense,  than  it  would  be  when  it 
was  once  executed,  which  would  put  a  final  end  to  all 
debates,  and  all  would  be  forgotten." 


68  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

So  the  Chancellor  set  off  once  again  on  his  errand 
to  Her  Majesty,  and  engaged  with  her  in  an  argument 
which  he  reports  very  fully.  But  Catherine  remained 
obdurate.  Beginning  with  tears,  as  she  acknowledged 
her  excessive  passion  at  the  former  interviews,  and 
then  listening  with  an  incredulous  smile  to  the 
Chancellor's  protestations  of  the  King's  sincerity  of 
purpose  with  regard  to  his  future  conduct,  she  finally 
declared  that  "  the  King  might  do  what  he  pleased, 
but  she  would  not  consent  to  it."  Her  face,  as  she 
said  this,  showed  Clarendon  that  she  both  hoped  and 
believed  that  her  obstinacy  would  in  the  end  prevail 
over  the  King's  importunity.  Accordingly  he  left 
her,  proceeded  to  Charles  with  his  account  of  his  ill 
success,  and,  after  expressing  his  opinion  that  both 
parties  were  very  much  to  blame  and  that  "  the  most 
excusable  would  be  the  one  who  yielded  first,"  begged 
to  be  excused  from  further  employment  in  the  affair. 
It  was  indeed  an  ill  day  for  him  when  he  consented 
to  take  any  part  in  it  whatever.  Not  only  did  his 
reputation  suffer  thereby  at  the  hands  of  his  critics, 
but  his  lack  of  success  with  the  Queen  caused  a  coolness 
tow^ard  him  on  the  part  of  Charles  and  certainly  no 
kindlier  feeling  on  the  part  of  Lady  Castlemaine. 

When  Clarendon  retired  from  the  ungrateful  busi- 
ness, the  King  promptly  put  into  execution  his  threat 
against  the  Queen's  Portuguese  suite.  As  Charles  I, 
but  in  very  different  circumstances,  had  driven  out 
Henrietta  Maria's  French  priests  and  women,  so  now 
his  son  named  a  day  for  Catherine's  Portuguese  to 
leave  England  ;   and  he  insisted  on  his  orders  being 


THE    QUEEN'S    BEDCHAMBER  69 

carried  out,  only  relenting  so  far  as  to  allow  her  to 
retain  the  invalid  Countess  of  Penalva,  sister  of  the 
Ambassador  Francisco  de  Mello,  who  had  been  her 
companion  from  a  child,  a  few  priests,  and  some 
inferior  servants.  Moreover,  he  avoided  meeting  her 
as  much  as  he  could,  refused  to  speak  to  her  when 
they  did  meet,  and  spent  his  time  with  those  who, 
in  Clarendon's  words,  "  made  it  their  business  to  laugh 
at  all  the  world  and  were  as  bold  with  God  Almighty 
as  with  any  of  his  creatures." 

Apart  from  his  desire  to  be  as  soon  as  possible 
governor  in  his  own  home,  Charles  seems  to  have 
had  one  reason  for  hastening  Catherine's  acquiescence 
in  his  demand  which  is  not  directly  mentioned  in  any 
of  the  contemporary  accounts  of  the  affair.  The 
Queen-Dowager,  Henrietta  Maria,  was  expected  from 
France  on  a  visit  to  congratulate  her  son  and  her  new 
daughter-in-law  on  their  marriage.  Charles  must  have 
been  anxious  to  bring  about  a  state  of  peace  in  his 
household  before  his  mother's  arrival.  He  took  the 
step  of  bringing  Lady  Castlemaine  into  Catherine's 
presence  a  second  time,  without  waiting  for  her  con- 
sent to  the  Bedchamber  appointment. 

This  we  learn  through  a  letter  from  Clarendon  to 
Ormonde  on  July  17th.  "The  Kinge  is  perfectly 
recovered  of  his  indisposicons  in  which  you  left 
him,"  says  the  Chancellor.  "  I  wish  he  were  as  free 
from  all  other.  I  have  had,  since  I  saw  you,  3  or  4 
full  long  conferences,  with  much  better  temper  than 
before.  I  have  likewise  twice  spoken  at  large  with  the 
Queene.     The  Lady  hath  becne  at  courte,  and  kissed 


70  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

her  hande,  and  returned  that  night.  I  cannot  tell 
you  ther  was  no  discomposure.  .  .  ." 

Now  we  know  that,  four  days  before  this  letter  was 
written,  a  great  change  had  taken  place  in  Lady 
Castlemaine's  life.  She  had  left  her  husband's  house 
in  King  Street,  and  gone  to  the  home  of  her  uncle, 
Colonel  Sir  Edward  Vilhers,  knight-marshal  of  the 
royal  household,  who  lived  at  Richmond  Palace. 
Pepys  gives  July  15  th  as  the  date  on  which  "  my  Lady 
Castlemaine  (being  quite  fallen  out  with  her  husband) 
did  go  away  from  him  with  her  plate,  jewels,  and  other 
best  things."  To  confirm  this  date  of  the  separation, 
there  is  in  existence  a  bond,  dated  July  i6th,  1662, 
which  the  Earl  obtained  from  two  of  his  wife's  uncles, 
the  Lords  Suffolk  and  Grandison,  binding  them  in  the 
sum  of  ten  thousand  pounds  to  indemnify  him  "  from 
all  and  every  manner  of  debts,  contracts,  sum  and 
sums  of  money  now  due,  or  that  shall  hereafter  grow 
due,  from  any  contract  or  bargain  made  by  the  Right 
Honourable  Barbara,  Countess  of  Castlemaine,  or  by 
any  person  or  persons  authorised  by  her." 

In  this  move  of  the  lady  to  Richmond  Pepys  sees  a 
design  to  get  out  of  town  that  the  King  might  come 
at  her  the  better.  "  But  strange  it  is,"  he  comments, 
"  how  for  her  beauty  I  am  willing  to  construe  all  this 
to  the  best  and  to  pity  her  wherein  it  is  to  her  hurt, 
though  I  know  well  enough  she  is  " — not  what  she 
should  be.  On  the  26th  of  the  same  month  Mrs.  Sarah 
gives  Pepys  some  further  information  about  the  falling 
out  of  my  Lord  and  my  Lady,  and  how  the  latter 
had  taken  away  from  King  Street  "  so  much  as  every 


THE  QUEEN'S  BEDCHAMBER  71 

dish  and  cloth  and  servant,  except  the  porter."  Pepys 
continues  :  "  He  is  gone  discontented  into  France, 
they  say,  to  enter  a  monastery  ;  and  now  she  is  coming 
back  again  to  her  house  in  King  Street.  But  I  hear 
that  the  Queen  did  prick  her  out  of  the  Hst  presented 
her  by  the  King  ;  desiring  that  she  might  have  that 
favour  done  her,  or  that  he  would  send  her  from 
whence  she  came  ;  and  that  the  King  was  angry  and 
the  Queen  discontented  a  whole  day  and  night  upon 
it ;  but  that  the  King  hath  promised  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  her  hereafter.  But  I  cannot  believe  that 
the  King  can  fling  her  off  so,  he  loving  her  too  well." 

If  Castlemaine  went  to  France  at  all  in  July,  it 
must  have  been  on  a  very  brief  visit,  for  he  was  in 
London  again  before  the  end  of  August.  But  the 
break  with  his  faithless  wife  was  permanent,  neverthe- 
less. They  lived  together  no  more  after  the  day  of 
her  departure  for  Richmond.  The  husband  effaced 
himself,  as  soon  as  he  was  allowed,  from  the  scene  of 
his  disgrace.^  It  was  not  long  before,  as  Boyer  ex- 
presses it,  "  the  misfortunes  of  his  bed  put  him  into 
a  vein  of  travelling,"  which  continued  with  but  occa- 
sional interruptions  until  late  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
As  for  the  wife,  she  carried  all  before  her.  After  he 
had  for  the  second  time  forced  her  presence  on  the 
Queen,  Charles  seems  to  have  felt  that  the  victory 
was  won. 

We  read  in  Clarendon  that  "  the  lady  came  to  the 
Court,  was  lodged  there,  was  every  day  in  the  Queen's 
presence,  and  the  King  in  continual  conference  with 

1   See  below,  p.  82. 


72  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

her  ;  while  the  Queen  sat  untaken  notice  of  :  and  if 
Her  Majesty  rose  at  the  indignity  and  retired  into  her 
chamber,  it  may  be  one  or  two  attended  her  ;  but 
all  the  company  remained  in  the  room  she  left,  and 
too  often  said  those  things  aloud  which  nobody  ought 
to  have  whispered."  Charles  himself  threw  off  the 
troubled  looks  which  he  had  worn  at  the  beginning  of 
the  quarrel  and  "  appeared  every  day  more  gay  and 
pleasant,  without  any  clouds  in  his  face,  and  full  of 
good  humour."  This  only  increased  poor  Catherine's 
humiliation.  She  saw  mirth  around  her  everywhere, 
except  in  her  own  immediate  neighbourhood,  and 
"  the  lady  "  being  treated  with  more  respect  than 
herself,  even  by  her  own  personal  servants,  who  found 
her  less  able  to  do  anything  for  them  than  the  favourite. 
As  for  the  King,  all  that  she  had  of  his  company  each 
day  was  "  those  few  hours  which  remained  of  the 
preceding  night  and  which  were  too  little  for  sleep." 
The  Queen-Dowager  had,  in  the  meantime,  arrived 
at  Hampton  Court.  On  July  19th  the  King  went 
down  the  Thames  in  his  barge,  on  his  way  to  the 
Downs,  whither  the  Duke  of  York  had  already  gone, 
to  meet  her.  "  Methought,"  observes  Pepys,  "  it 
lessened  my  esteem  of  a  king,  that  he  should  not  be 
able  to  command  the  rain,"  the  weather  just  now 
being  so  wet  that  the  diarist,  who  was  having  the  top 
of  his  house  at  the  Navy  Office  reconstructed,  was 
sadly  inconvenienced  by  the  superabundance  of  water. 
The  King's  impotence  where  the  weather  was  con- 
cerned was  to  be  further  manifested  ;  for  the  royal 
yacht  and  its  escorts  were  very  roughly  treated  by 


THE  QUEEN'S  BEDCHAMBER  73 

a  storm,  and  Henrietta  Maria's  crossing  was  so  delayed 
that  it  was  not  until  the  28th  that  she  reached  Green- 
wich and  awaited  at  the  Palace  there  the  first  call  from 
Charles  and  his  bride.  By  the  end  of  the  month  the 
whole  Court  was  gathered  together  again  at  Hampton 
Court  preparatory  to  the  return  to  Whitehall  for  the 
winter. 

What  Henrietta  Maria  thought  of  the  state  of 
affairs  between  her  son  and  her  daughter-in-law,  we 
do  not  hear.  But,  as  we  are  not  told  so,  we  may  assume 
that  she  did  not  intervene  on  Catherine's  behalf.  The 
young  Queen — her  twenty-fourth  birthday  had  yet 
to  come — was  left  entirely  without  any  influential 
supporter  in  a  strange  land,  and  it  speaks  highly  for 
her  courage  and  determination  that  she  could  hold 
out  so  long  in  the  unequal  struggle. 

The  move  from  Hampton  Court  to  Whitehall  was 
now  made.  Fortunately  for  posterity,  the  spectacle- 
loving  Pepys  was  an  eye-witness  of  the  scene  on 
August  23rd,  in  which  Lady  Castlemaine  played  a 
notable  part — at  least  in  his  admiring  eyes.  He  and 
his  friend  Mr.  Creed  vainly  tried  to  get  a  boat  to 
convey  them  from  Upper  Thames  Street  to  Whitehall, 
the  boatmen  refusing  to  be  tempted  by  an  offer  of 
eight  shilhngs  on  such  an  occasion. 

"  So  we  fairly  walked  it  to  Whitehall,"  he  writes, 
"  and  through  my  Lord's  lodgings  we  got  into  White- 
hall garden,  and  so  to  the  Bowling-green,  and  up  to 
the  top  of  the  new  Banqueting  House  there,  over  the 
Thames,  which  was  a  most  pleasant  place  as  any  I 
could  have  got.  .  .  .  Anon  come  the  King  and  Queen 


74  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

in  a  barge  under  a  canopy  with  10,000  barges  and 
boats,  I  think,  for  we  could  see  no  water  for  them, 
nor  discern  the  King  nor  Queen.  And  so  they  landed 
at  Whitehall  Bridge,  and  the  great  guns  on  the  other 
side  went  off.  But  that  which  pleased  me  best  was 
that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  stood  over  against  us  upon 
a  piece  of  Whitehall,  where  I  glutted  myself  with 
looking  on  her.  But  methought  it  was  strange  to  see 
her  Lord  and  her  upon  the  same  place  walking  up 
and  down  without  taking  notice  one  of  another,  only 
at  first  entry  he  put  off  his  hat,  and  she  made  him  a 
very  civil  salute,  but  afterwards  took  no  notice  one  of 
another  ;  but  both  of  them  now  and  then  would  take 
their  child,  which  the  nurse  held  in  her  armes,  and 
dandle  it.  One  thing  more ;  there  happened  a 
scaffold  below  to  fall,  and  we  feared  some  hurt,  but 
there  was  none  but  she  of  all  the  great  ladies  only 
run  down  among  the  common  rabble  to  see  what 
hurt  was  done,  and  did  take  care  of  a  child  that 
received  some  little  hurt,  which  methought  was  so 
noble.  Anon  came  one  there  booted  and  spurred 
that  she  talked  long  with.  And  by  and  by,  she  being 
in  her  hair,  she  put  on  his  hat,  which  was  but  an 
ordinary  one,  to  keep  the  wind  off.  But  methinks  it 
became  her  mightily,  as  everything  else  do.  The  show 
being  over,  I  went  away,  not  weary  with  looking  at 
her." 

This  account  is  interesting  in  many  ways,  and  not 
least  for  its  record  of  an  amiable  trait  in  Lady  Castle- 
maine's  character  which  her  other  critics  nowhere 
discover.  We  can  hardly  accuse  Pepys  of  inventing 
it,  however,  in  spite  of  his  partiality  for  her  whom  it  so 
delighted  him  to  have  Lady  Sandwich  call  "  your  lady." 


THE   QUEEN'S  BEDCHAMBER  75 

The  Court  had  hardly  settled  down  at  Whitehall 
before  the  victory  of  the  mistress  over  the  Queen  was 
the  talk  of  everyone.  In  the  Bodleian  Library  at 
Oxford  there  is  preserved  an  instructive  letter  from 
Clarendon  to  Ormonde,  dated  September  9th,  1662, 
part  of  which  is  as  follows  :  "  All  things  are  bad  with 
reference  to  the  Lady  ;  but  I  think  not  so  bad  as  you 
heare.  Every  body  takes  her  to  be  of  the  bedchamber  ; 
for  she  is  always  there,  and  goes  abrode  in  the  coach. 
But  the  Queene  tells  me  that  the  King  promised  her, 
on  condition  she  would  use  her  as  she  doth  others, 
that  she  should  never  live  in  Court  :  yet  lodgings,  I 
hear,  she  hath.    I  heare  of  no  back  staires." 

In  spite  of  the  fact,  however,  that  everybody  took 
her  to  be  of  the  Bedchamber,  Lady  Castlemaine  was 
not  definitely  appointed  until  nine  months  later. 
Among  the  Domestic  State  Papers  of  Charles  II  there 
is  a  warrant  dated  June  ist,  1663,  to  admit  "  Lady 
Chesterfield,  the  Countess  of  Bath,  the  Duchess  of 
Buckingham,  Countess  Marishal,  and  of  Countess 
Castlemaine  "  as  Ladies  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the 
Queen.  The  reason  for  the  delay  in  the  issue  of 
the  warrant,  after  Catherine's  surrender,  we  do  not 
know  ;  but  that  she  had  really  given  way  is  proved 
by  the  scene  at  Somerset  House  mentioned  at  the 
beginning  of  the  next  chapter. 

Clarendon — having  told  how  the  Queen  "  at  last, 
when  it  was  least  expected  or  suspected,  on  a  sudden 
let  herself  fall  first  to  conversation  and  then  to 
familiarity,  and  even  in  the  same  instant  to  a  confidence 
with  the  lady  ;   was  merry  with  her  in  public,  talked 


j6  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

kindly  of  her,  and  in  private  used  nobody  more 
friendly  " — sees  her  injured  in  the  general  esteem  by 
her  condescension,  and  says  that  "  this  sudden  down- 
fall and  total  abandoning  her  own  greatness,  this  low 
demeanour  and  even  application  to  a  person  she  had 
justly  abhorred  and  worthily  contemned,  made  all 
men  conclude  that  it  was  a  hard  matter  to  know  her 
and  consequently  to  serve  her." 

Poor  Catherine  !  What  chance  had  she  of  pleasing 
anyone  at  such  a  Court  as  that  of  her  husband  ?  And 
what  wonder  can  there  be  that  a  deterioration  in  her 
character  followed  her  early  years  in  England.  She 
arrived  with  piety  and  modesty  her  most  marked  traits. 
She  became  flighty  (not  in  morals,  be  it  said,  but 
in  general  deportment),  fond  of  excitement,  and 
avaricious.  Not  having  the  makings  of  a  saint,  she 
refrained  from  becoming  a  sinner,  but  failed,  in 
attempting  to  steer  a  middle  course,  to  prove  herself 
an  agreeable  woman. 

As  for  the  effect  of  his  victory  on  the  King,  Claren- 
don sees  the  esteem  which  he  had  in  his  heart  for 
Catherine  growing  much  less  after  her  surrender,  while 
"  he  congratulated  his  own  ill-natured  perseverance, 
by  which  he  had  discovered  how  he  was  to  behave 
himself  hereafter,  and  what  remedies  he  was  to  apply 
to  all  future  indispositions,  nor  had  he  ever  after  the 
same  value  of  her  wit,  judgment,  and  understanding, 
which  he  had  formerly." 


From  an  engraving;  by  II '.  S/wrw/ii 

BARBARA   VILLIERS,   COUNTESS   OK  CASTLEMAINE 
AND   DUCHESS   OF  CLEVELAND 


i 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    CASTLEMAINE    ASCENDANCY 

/^N  Sunday,  September  7th,  1662,  Samuel  Pepys, 
being  alone  in  town — his  too  trustful  wife  having 
gone  on  a  visit  to  the  country  during  the  presence  of 
the  workmen  in  their  house — met  "  Mr.  Pierce  the 
chyrurgeon,"  and  was  by  him  taken  to  Somerset  House, 
the  palace  assigned  to  the  Queen-Mother,  and  recently 
altered  by  her  at  a  great  cost.  Here,  in  Henrietta 
Maria's  presence-chamber,  he  saw  both  her  and,  for 
the  first  time,  Queen  Catherine,  of  whom  he  says  : 
"  Though  she  be  not  very  charming,  yet  she  hath  a 
good,  modest,  and  innocent  look,  which  is  pleasing." 
We  will  let  Pepys  describe  the  rest  of  the  company  : 

"  Here  I  also  saw  Madam  Castlemaine,  and,  which 
pleased  me  most,  Mr.  Crofts,  the  King's  bastard,  a 
most  pretty  spark  of  about  15  years  old,^  who,  I  per- 
ceive, do  hang  much  upon  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  and 
is  always  with  her  ;  and,  I  hear,  the  Queens  both  of 
them  are  mighty  kind  to  him.  By  and  by  in  comes 
the  King,  and  anon  the  Duke  and  his  Duchess ;  so 
that,  they  being  all  together,  was  such  a  sight  as  I 
never  could  almost  have  happened  to  see  with  so  much 

^  He  was  in  reality  only  thirteen  and  a  half,  being  born  on  April 
9th,  1649. 

n 


78  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

ease  and  leisure.  They  staid  till  it  was  dark,  and  then 
went  away  ;  the  King  and  his  Queen,  and  my  Lady 
Castlemaine,  in  one  coach  and  the  rest  in  other  coaches. 
Here  were  great  store  of  great  ladies,  but  very  few 
handsome." 

From  this  scene  (to  which  Pepys  gets  admittance 
with  what  now  seems  such  astonishing  ease)  it  is  clear 
how  far  the  young  Queen  had  condescended  to  tolerate 
the  presence  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  whom  indeed  we 
see  "  abrode  in  the  coach  "  precisely  as  described  by 
Clarendon  to  Ormonde.  To  make  the  situation  the 
more  remarkable,  there  is  the  most  pretty  spark,  Mr. 
Crofts,  who,  of  course,  is  none  other  than  James, 
afterwards  Duke  of  Monmouth,  the  King's  son  by 
Lucy  Walter.  The  eldest  of  Charles's  illegitimate 
children  (with  the  exception  of  the  rather  mysterious 
James  de  la  Cloche,  who  after  becoming  a  Jesuit 
vanished  from  authenticated  history  about  the  end  of 
the  year  1668),  the  future  Duke  took  his  temporary 
surname  from  the  "  Mr.  Croftes,  since  created  Lord 
Croftes,"  whom  Evelyn  records  having  met  on  his  visit 
to  the  exiled  Court  in  France  in  1649.  Appointed  by 
Charles  as  guardian  to  the  nine-year-old  boy  in  1658, 
William  Crofts  also  lent  him  a  name  which  he  con- 
tinued to  bear  until  on  his  marriage  to  his  heiress 
bride  he  was  legally  furnished  with  that  of  Scott. 

Henrietta  Maria's  object  in  taking  up  the  boy  is 
not  clear,  except  that  he  was  an  attractive  child  and 
that  she  wished  to  please  her  son.  We  have  Clarendon's 
testimony  that  she  frequently  had  him  brought  to  her, 
while  in  France,  and  "  used  him  with  much  grace." 


THE    CASTLEMAINE    ASCENDANCY      79 

In  taking  him  with  her  to  England  in  1662  she  was 
acting  at  the  King's  request.  Charles  was  certainly 
making  bold  demands  upon  his  wife's  complacency. 
Having  obliged  her  to  take  one  of  his  mistresses  as  a 
lady  in  attendance  upon  her,  he  now  introduced  to  her 
acquaintance  his  natural  son  by  another  mistress.  He 
himself  received  the  child  "  with  extraordinary  fond- 
ness," his  Chancellor  writes,  "  and  was  wiUing  that 
everybody  should  believe  him  to  be  his  son,  though  he 
did  not  yet  make  any  declaration  that  he  looked  upon 
him  as  such,  otherwise  than  by  his  kindness  and 
famiharity  towards  him."  This  was  sufficient,  how- 
ever, within  a  very  short  space  of  time  to  arouse  the 
suspicions  of  the  Duke  of  York,  between  whom  and  the 
King  there  was  rumoured  a  difference  before  the  end 
of  this  year. 

Pepys,  a  fortnight  after  the  Somerset  House  recep- 
tion, bears  witness  again  to  the  intimacy  now  evidently 
existing  between  Lady  Castlemaine  and  the  Queen ; 
for,  being  in  the  Park  on  Sunday  morning,  he  has  the 
fortune  to  see  Catherine  going  by  coach  to  her  chapel  at 
St.  James's,  ready  the  first  time  that  day  for  the  Roman 
Catholic  services  for  which  her  marriage  treaty  stipu- 
lated. The  inquisitive  Pepys  "  crowded  after  her  " 
and  succeeded  in  getting  close  to  "  the  room  where 
her  closet  is  " — Her  Majesty's  private  pew.  He  ad- 
mired much  the  fine  altar,  the  priests  with  their  fine 
copes,  and  many  other  very  fine  things.  As  for  the 
music,  it  might  be  good,  he  allowed,  but  it  did  not 
appear  so  to  him.  He  noticed  that  the  Queen  was 
very  devout.    "  But  what  pleased  me  best  was  to  see 


8o  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

my  dear  Lady  Castlemaine,  who,  tho'  a  Protestant, 
did  wait  upon  the  Queen  to  chapel." 

In  spite  o£  what  Clarendon  wrote  early  in  September 
to  Ormonde  about  the  mistress's  lodgings,  she  evi- 
dently continued  to  make  use  of  her  husband's  King 
Street  house  at  the  beginning  of  October.  For  on  the 
6th  of  that  month  we  find  her  giving  a  ball  there, 
at  which  the  King  is  present.  Nor  has  Lord  Castle- 
maine yet  left  England  a  month  later,  "  being  still 
in  town,  and  sometimes  seeing  of  her,  though  never 
to  eat  or  lie  together."  It  seems,  therefore,  as  if 
Charles  continued  at  this  time  to  make  a  feeble  out- 
ward show  of  keeping  his  promise  to  the  Queen  that 
the  lady  should  never  live  at  Court,  if  she  would  only 
use  her  as  she  did  others.  As  we  shall  see,  the 
Countess  was  not  lodged  at  Whitehall,  to  public 
knowledge,  until  April,  1663. 

But,  wherever  she  was  residing  for  the  moment, 
Barbara's  influence  was  all-powerful,  extending  even 
to  the  choice  of  the  King's  ministers.  On  October 
17th  Mr.  Creed  tells  Pepys  how  at  Court  "  the  young 
men  get  uppermost  and  the  old  serious  lords  are  out 
of  favour."  The  place  of  Sir  Edward  Nicholas, 
Secretary  of  State,  is  given  to  Sir  Henry  Bennet, 
formerly  private  secretary  to  the  Duke  of  York  and 
later  to  be  first  Baron,  and  then  Earl  of,  Arlington  ; 
and  the  Privy  Purse  to  Sir  Charles  Berkeley,  "  a  most 
vicious  person."^     These  two  and  Lady  Castlemaine 

^  So  says  Pepys,  and  it  was  the  common  opinion  of  the  day.  But 
the  King,  Clarendon  tells  us,  loved  him  "every  day  with  more  passion, 
for  what  reason  no  man   knew  nor  could  imagine."     King   Charles 


THE    CASTLEMAINE    ASCENDANCY     8i 

between  them  have  the  King's  ear.  The  two,  indeed, 
we  hear  from  Clarendon,  "  were  most  devoted  to  the 
lady,  and  much  depended  upon  her  interest,  and  conse- 
quently were  ready  to  do  anything  that  would  be 
grateful  to  her."  While  they  made  a  point  of  keeping 
on  good  terms  with  the  Chancellor,  he  could  not  but 
feel  that  his  influence  over  the  King  declined  with 
their  appointment. 

In  fact,  a  week  later  "  Mr.  Pierce  the  chyrurgeon  " 
draws  for  Pepys  a  very  gloomy  picture  of  how  things 
are  going  at  Court.  Pierce  has  had  a  promise  of 
being  made  surgeon  to  the  Queen,  but  is  in  doubt 
whether  to  take  the  post,  since  the  King  shows  no 
countenance  to  any  that  belong  to  her.  Her  private 
physician  has  told  Pierce  that  "  the  Queen  do  know 
how  the  King  orders  things,  and  how  he  carries  himself 
to  my  Lady  Castlemaine  and  others,  as  well  as  any- 
body ;  but  though  she  hath  spirit  enough,  yet  seeing 
that  she  do  no  good  by  taking  notice  of  it,  for  the 
present  she  forbears  it  in  poHcy  ;  of  which  I  am 
very  glad,"  adds  Pepys.  He  notices  the  pubHc  dis- 
content at  the  general  state  of  affairs,  "  what  with  the 
sale  of  Dunkirk  " — concluded  this  year  at  the  price  of 
five  hundred  thousand  pistoles — "  and  my  Lady 
Castlemaine  and  her  faction  at  Court  ;  though  I  know 
not  what  they  would  have  more  than  to  debauch  the 
King,   whom   God   preserve  from  it  !  "     But   "  the 

wrote  to  his  sister  Henrietta  in  1665  on  receiving  the  news  of  the 
battle  of  Southwold  Bay,  at  which  Berkeley,  then  Earl  of  Falmouth, 
was  killed  :  "  I  have  had  as  great  a  losse  as  'tis  possible  in  a  good  frinde, 
poore  C.  Barckley."  The  Gramont  Memoirs,  strange  to  say,  are 
extremely  kind  to  Berkeley's  character. 
G 


82  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

King  is  very  kind  to  the  Queen,"  we  are  told  on 
December  15th,  Dr.  Gierke  on  this  occasion  being 
Pepys's  informant. 

It  was  public  property,  at  Court  at  least,  that  the 
favourite  was  expecting  another  child  by  His  Majesty, 
though  Lord  Castlemaine,  being  still  in  town,  could 
be  represented  as  the  father.  Charles  kept  him  in 
England  for  this  very  reason,  in  spite  of  his  desire  to 
set  out  on  his  travels. 

"  Strange  how  the  King  is  bewitched  to  this  pretty 
Castlemaine  !  "  exclaims  Pepys,  as  he  records  another 
piece  of  Court  gossip.  Very  oddly.  Carte  in  his  Life 
of  the  Duke  of  Ormonde  tells  a  story  how  Queen 
Catherine  actually  believed  that  the  lady  had  be- 
witched the  King.  Carte  is  speaking  of  Peter  Talbot 
the  Jesuit,  who,  after  the  royal  marriage,  was  one  of 
the  priests  who  officiated  in  the  Queen's  household. 

"  His  busy  nature  did  not  suffer  him  to  continue  long 
in  that  post ;  he  v/as  always  telling  the  Queen  some 
story  or  other,  and  the  uneasiness  which  she  suffered 
in  October  1662,  upon  Lady  Castlemaine's  being  put 
about  her,  was  imputed  in  a  good  measure  to  his  in- 
sinuations. There  is  a  Spanish  word  frequently  used 
by  lovers  in  that  country  to  their  mistresses,  and  which 
likewise  signifies  an  enchantress.  Talbot  had  un- 
happily made  use  of  this  expression  in  his  discourse  ; 
and  the  good  Queen,  not  being  used  to  the  language  of 
lovers,  nor  comprehending  the  true  meaning  of  the 
word,  presently  imagined  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine 
to  be  a  real  sorceress.  In  consequence  of  this  notion, 
and  in  great   tenderness   to   the   King's   person,   she 


THE    CASTLETMAINE    ASCENDANCY     83 

cautioned  him  against  the  lady,  and  expressed  her 
fears  in  such  a  manner  that  he  was  puzzled  a  good 
while  to  know  her  meaning.  But  finding  her  very- 
serious  in  the  matter,  he  inquired  how  she  came  to 
entertain  so  wrong  a  notion  ;  she  ascribed  it  to  Peter 
Talbot,  who  being  now  involved  with  the  Duke  of 
Bucks  in  contriving  to  make  the  mischief  which  at  that 
time  distracted  the  Court,  was  ordered  to  depart  the 
kingdom." 

On  New  Year's  Eve  our  most  useful  of  informants 
has  the  happiness  of  seeing  the  Royal  Ball  at  Whitehall. 
He  is  taken  by  Mr.  Povy  into  the  room  where  the  ball 
is  to  be,  crammed  with  fine  ladies.  "  By  and  by  comes 
the  King  and  Queen,  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  and  all 
the  great  ones  :  and  after  seating  themselves,  the 
King  takes  out  the  Duchess  of  York ;  and  the  Duke, 
the  Duchess  of  Buckingham ;  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth, my  Lady  Castlemaine ;  and  so  other  lords 
other  ladies  :  and  they  danced  the  Bransle.  After 
that,  the  King  led  a  lady  a  single  Coranto  ;  and  then 
the  rest  of  the  lords,  one  after  another,  other  ladies  : 
very  noble  it  was,  and  great  pleasure  to  see.  Then 
to  country  dances ;  the  King  leading  the  first,  which 
he  called  for  ;  which  was,  says  he,  '  Cuckolds  all  awry,' 
the  old  dance  of  England.  Of  the  ladies  that  danced, 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  mistress,  and  my  Lady 
Castlemaine,  and  a  daughter  of  Sir  Harry  de  Vicke's, 
were  the  best.  The  manner  was,  when  the  King 
dances,  all  the  ladies  in  the  room,  and  the  Queen  her- 
self, stand  up  :  and  indeed  he  dances  rarely,  and  much 
better  than  the  Duke  of  York.     Having  staid  here  as 


84  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

long  as  I  thought  fit,  to  my  infinite  content,  it  being 
the  greatest  pleasure  I  could  wish  now  to  see  at  Court, 
I  went  out,  leaving  them  dancing." 

Yet  in  his  closing  note  upon  the  year  1662  the 
diarist  is  not  so  dazzled  by  the  scene  which  he  has  just 
witnessed  as  to  close  his  eyes  to  the  ill  state  of  affairs 
at  Court.  He  sees  the  King  "  following  his  pleasure 
more  than  with  good  advice  he  would  do  ;  ...  his 
dalliance  with  my  Lady  Castlemaine  being  publique, 
every  day,  to  his  great  reproach  ;  and  his  favouring 
of  none  at  Court  much  as  those  that  are  the  confidants 
of  his  pleasure,  as  Sir  H.  Bennet  and  Sir  Charles 
Barkeley  ;  which,  good  God  !  put  it  into  his  heart 
to  mend,  before  he  makes  himself  too  much  contemned 
by  his  people  for  it  !  " 

In  the  same  strain  he  begins  again  his  record  of  1663, 
after  Mrs.  Sarah  has  told  him  how  the  King  sups  at 
least  four  or  five  times  every  week  with  my  Lady 
Castlemaine — we  hear  later  that  he  has  not  supped 
with  the  Queen  for  a  quarter  of  a  year  and  almost 
every  night  with  the  lady — and  how  "  the  very 
centrys  "  notice  and  speak  about  his  going  home  in 
the  morning  "  through  the  garden  all  alone  privately." 
This  and  other  tales  make  Pepys  very  gloomy  as  to  the 
Court  morals,  from  top  to  bottom. 

One  of  these  visits  of  the  King  to  his  mistress 
attracted  particular  comment,  and  this  was  paid  only 
a  few  days  after  Mrs.  Sarah  had  imparted  her  gossip 
to  Pepys.  The  story  is  found  in  the  extremely  inter- 
esting collection  of  letters  still  preserved  in  the  French 
Foreign  Office,  sent  by  the  various  French  ambassadors 


THE    CASTLEMAINE    ASCENDANCY     85 

at  Whitehall  to  Louis  XIV  and  his  Foreign  Secretary, 
Hugues  de  Lionne.  Louis  was  particularly  anxious  to 
receive  from  his  representatives  in  England  not  only 
diplomatic  intelligence,  but  also  "  the  most  curious 
of  the  Court  news  "  ;  and  the  ambassadors,  especially 
the  Comte  de  Cominges  (who  arrived  in  this  country 
at  the  end  of  1662  and  left  in  1665),  ^i^  their  best  to 
gratify  him — to  the  great  edification  of  posterity. 
Cominges  now,  writing  to  Lionne,  tells  how  Madame 
Jaret  (by  whom  he  means  Lady  Gerard,  wife  of  a 
gentleman  of  King  Charles's  Bedchamber)  invited  the 
King  and  Queen  to  supper  at  her  house.  "  All  things 
were  ready,  and  the  company  assembled,  when  the 
King  left  and  went  oif  to  Madame  de  Castlemaine's, 
where  he  spent  the  rest  of  the  evening."  It  is  not  sur- 
prising to  hear  that  this  gave  rise  to  much  talk  and 
great  heart-burnings.  It  seems  that  there  was  ill- 
feeling  between  the  Ladies  Castlemaine  and  Gerard, 
and  that  the  former  chose  to  insult  her  enemy  by  this 
display  of  authority  over  the  King.  Two  months 
later  Pepys  heard  how  "  for  some  words  of  my  Lady 
Gerard's  against  my  Lady  Castlemaine  to  the  Queen, 
the  King  did  the  other  day  affront  her  in  going 
out  to  dance  with  her  at  a  ball,  when  she  desired  it  as 
the  ladies  do,  and  is  since  forbid  attending  the  Queen 
by  the  King  ;  which  is  much  talked  of,  my  Lord  her 
husband  being  a  great  favourite." 

Pepys  was  himself  a  witness  on  one  occasion  of  the 
open  way  in  which  the  King  now  paid  his  visits  to  the 
mistress.  He  was  proceeding  with  Lord  Sandwich 
on  January  12th  to  a  Navy  Office  Committee  meeting, 


86  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

under  the  presidency  of  the  Duke  of  York.  On  the 
way  through  Whitehall  garden,  to  the  Duke's  chamber, 
"  a  lady  called  to  my  Lord  out  of  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine's  lodging,  telling  him  the  King  was  there  and 
would  speak  with  him.  My  Lord  could  not  tell  what 
to  bid  me  say  at  the  Committee  to  excuse  his  absence, 
but  that  he  was  with  the  King  ;  nor  would  suffer  me 
to  go  into  the  Privy  Garden  (which  is  now  a  through- 
passage  and  common),  but  bid  me  go  through  some 
other  way,  which  I  did  ;  so  that  I  see  he  is  a  servant  of 
the  King's  pleasures  too,  as  well  as  business." 

Burnet,  in  one  of  the  fragments  which  he  did  not 
incorporate  in  his  History  of  my  own  Time,  says  :  "  My 
lady  Castlemaine  was  now  become  very  insolent,  for 
though  upon  the  Queen's  first  coming  over  the  King's 
courtship  of  her  was  carried  very  secretly,  yet  she  would 
not  rest  satisfied  unless  she  were  publicly  owned.  So 
that  was  done  this  winter  " — the  winter  of  1662-3,  ^^ 
appears  to  mean.  Assuredly  the  King  could  scarcely 
have  gone  further  in  the  direction  of  publicly  owning 
her  than  in  the  instances  which  we  have  mentioned 
above. 

Just  about  this  time,  when  the  former  Barbara 
Villiers  was  at  the  height  of  her  sway  over  the  King, 
her  first  lover  made  himself  at  least  a  nine  days' 
wonder  at  Court  by  his  conduct  toward  his  second 
wife  Elizabeth,  his  marriage  with  whom  may  have 
been  the  cause  of  Barbara's  "  displeasure  "  with  him 
in  1 661.  The  beautiful  Elizabeth  had,  whether  in- 
tentionally or  not,  succeeded  in  attracting  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Duke  of  York  in  the  autumn  of  1662,  and 


THE    CASTLEMAINE   ASCENDANCY     87 

Court  scandal  then  said  that  the  Duchess  had  com- 
plained about  this  to  the  King  and  to  her  father  Lord 
Clarendon,  with  the  result  that  the  lady  was  sent  to 
the  country.  But  in  December  she  was  allowed  to 
return  to  Court,  only  for  the  scandal  to  break  out 
again  and  a  second  banishment  to  follow.  Pepys  is 
favourable  to  the  lady.  His  version  of  the  affair, 
after  a  talk  with  Dr.  Clerke,  is  as  follows.  It  seems 
that  Lord  Chesterfield,  he  says,  "  not  only  hath 
been  long  jealous  of  the  Duke  of  York,  but  did 
find  them  two  talking  together,  though  there  were 
others  in  the  room,  and  the  lady  by  all  opinions 
a  most  good,  virtuous  woman.  He,  the  next  day 
(of  which  the  Duke  was  warned  by  somebody  that 
saw  the  passion  my  Lord  Chesterfield  was  in  the  night 
before),  went  and  told  the  Duke  how  much  he  did 
apprehend  himself  wronged,  in  his  picking  out  his 
lady  of  the  whole  Court  to  be  the  subject  of  his  dis- 
honour ;  which  the  Duke  did  answer  with  great  calm- 
ness, not  seeming  to  understand  the  reason  of  com- 
plaint, and  that  was  all  that  passed  :  but  my  Lord  did 
presently  pack  his  lady  into  the  country  in  Derby- 
shire, near  the  Peake."  Thither  he  followed  her  him- 
self in  May. 

Gramont,  always  more  vivacious  than  veracious, 
tells  a  very  long  and  circumstantial  tale  about  the 
Duke  and  the  Countess,  and  some  green  stockings,  and 
Lord  Chesterfield's  jealousy.  What  historical  value 
should  be  attached  to  the  tale  may  be  gathered  from 
two  sentences  in  a  letter  written  by  Sir  Charles  Lyttel- 
ton  to  Viscount  Hatton,  on  August  8th,  1671.     "As 


88  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

for  the  story  of  the  silk  stockmgs,"  says  Lyttelton,  "  I 
heare  now  there  was  no  such  thing  but  an  old  story 
revived  of  the  last  King's  time."  And  in  a  postscript 
he  adds  :  "  The  news  I  tell  of  the  Dutch  admirall  is 
all  false  ;   so  is  that  of  the  green  stockings." 

With  the  wife  on  whom  he  imposed  a  very  different 
code  of  married  life  from  that  which  he  followed  him- 
self, Chesterfield,  according  to  his  own  account,  spent 
the  whole  of  the  summer  of  1663  at  Bretby.  There 
is  no  evidence  that  Lady  Castlemaine  felt  any  par- 
ticular interest  in  His  Lordship  now.  She  was  too 
much  occupied  in  other  affairs  to  cherish  any  longer 
the  passion  of  her  girlhood.  She  had,  if  rumours  were 
true,  already  commenced  to  play  the  King  false,  if 
that  expression  be  permissible  in  such  circumstances. 
The  scandalmongers  attributed  to  her  a  kindness  to- 
ward Sir  Charles  Berkeley,  soon  to  be  made  Viscount 
Fitzharding,  whom  the  King  used  as  a  go-between 
between  himself  and  her.  And  Anthony  Hamilton 
suggests  that  his  eldest  brother  was  on  very  friendly 
terms,  for  a  time  at  least,  with  the  lady.  This  was 
James  Hamilton,  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the 
King,  described  by  his  junior  as  the  best-dressed  man 
at  Court,  the  liveliest  wit,  most  polished  courtier,  most 
accomplished  dancer,  and  most  general  lover — this  last 
point  a  merit  of  some  account,  he  observes,  in  a 
court  entirely  given  up  to  gallantry.  The  Gramont 
Memoirs  also  mention  Henry  Jermyn  as  already 
favoured  by  her.  Later  the  name  of  Lord  Sandwich 
is  added  to  the  list,  and  Pepys  is  evidently  inclined  to 
believe  the  report. 


THE    CASTLEMAINE   ASCENDANCY     89 

It  would  be  rash  to  say  that  Lady  Castlemaine  took 
undue  risks  in  allowing  herself  to  be  talked  about  in 
connection  with  the  courtiers  of  the  King  her  master, 
for  she  proved  that  she  knew  eminently  well  how  to 
handle  Charles  II  to  her  own  advantage.  But  it  is  a 
fact  that,  while  these,  stories  were  beginning  to  circulate 
about  her  conduct,  there  were  others  just  coming  to 
birth  concerning  a  wandering  of  the  King's  affections. 

At  the  end  of  January  1663,  however,  the  Castle- 
maine influence  is  still  supreme.  One  Captain  Ferrers, 
a  lively  blade,  tells  Pepys  of  "  my  Lady  Castlemaine's 
and  Sir  Charles  Barkeley  being  the  great  favourites  at 
Court  and  growing  every  day  more  and  more."  On 
February  ist  Pepys  and  Creed,  walking  in  Whitehall 
Garden,  "  did  see  the  King  coming  privately  from 
my  Lady  Castlemaine's  ;  which  is  a  poor  thing  for  a 
prince  to  do."  A  week  later  Ferrers  regales  the  two  as 
they  walk  together  in  the  Park  on  Sunday  afternoon, 
watching  people  sliding  on  the  ice,  with  various  "  Court 
passages  " — which,  in  truth,  were  very  scandalous  tales. 
One  of  these  introduces,  for  the  first  time  in  the  Diary, 
the  name  of  the  lady  who  actually  did  what  Pepys  had 
vainly  feared  Catherine  of  Braganza  would  do,  namely, 
"  put  out  of  joynt  "  my  Lady  Castlemaine's  nose. 
Lady  Castlemaine  was  represented  as  having,  a  few 
days  before,  invited  "  Mrs.  Stewart  "  to  an  entertain- 
ment. "  And  at  night  began  a  frolique  that  they  two 
must  be  married,  and  married  they  were,  with  ring  and 
all  other  ceremonies  of  church  service,  and  ribbands, 
and  a  sack  posset  in  bed,  and  flinging  the  stocking." 
Ferrers  concluded  the  story  with  the  intervention  of 


90  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

the  King  and  the  downfall  of  "  pretty  Mrs.  Stewart  "  ; 
which  is  quite  inconsistent  with  the  prevailing  belief 
of  a  very  evil-minded  Court  about  the  young  lady,  and 
may  therefore  be  dismissed  as  an  effort  of  the  imagina- 
tion— as  perhaps  the  whole  story  was,  in  spite  of 
another  of  the  diarist's  gossips  affirming  the  general 
acceptation  of  it. 

But  about  the  appearance  on  the  scene  of  la  belle 
Stuart  and  the  King's  infatuation  with  her  there  is  no 
doubt.  Frances,  elder  daughter  of  Dr.  Walter  Stewart 
or  Stuart,^  third  son  of  Lord  Blantyre,  and  therefore 
connected  with  the  Royal  Family,  came  to  England 
at  the  beginning  of  1663  from  Paris,  where  she  had 
lived  under  the  protection  of  her  mother  and  of 
Henrietta  Maria,  to  be  a  maid  of  honour  to  Queen 
Catherine.  She  was  about  fifteen  when  she  reached 
the  English  Court  and  was  commended  to  Charles  by 
his  sister  Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans,  as  "  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  world  and  one  of  the  best  fitted 
of  any  I  know  to  adorn  a  Court."  Of  her  prettiness 
there  can  be  no  doubt,  whether  we  judge  by  the 
testimony  of  a  multitude  of  her  contemporaries  or  by 
the  surviving  portraits  of  her.  As  to  her  capacity  to 
adorn  a  Court,  there  are  more  ways  than  one  of  inter- 
preting this  claim.  Frances  does  not  appear  to  have 
possessed  intelligence  to  match  her  looks.  It  was 
hardly  possible,  say  the  Gramont  Memoirs  indeed, 
for  a  woman  to  have  less  wit  or  more  beauty.  She 
lived  under  four  sovereigns  without  making  any  more 

^  We  shall  in  future  keep  to  Stewart,  which  was  the  usual  spelling 
of  Frances's  family  name  in  her  own  day. 


THE    CASTLEMAINE    ASCENDANCY     91 

enduring  mark  upon  the  history  of  their  reigns  than 
by  her  appearance  as  Britannia  on  our  copper  coins. 
She  was  certainly  circumspect,  and  as  a  maid  of 
honour  passed  for  modest.  The  Marquis  de  Ruvigny, 
one  of  Louis's  agents  in  England,  declares  her  to  be 
"  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  and  one  of  the  most 
modest  to  be  seen,"  even  when  he  is  transmitting  some 
dubious  reports  as  to  her  position  with  regard  to  the 
King.  Evelyn  evidently  believed  her  to  be  chaste  up 
to  the  time  of  her  marriage  ;  and  "  good  Mr.  Evelyn," 
as  Pepys  calls  him,  was  quite  capable  of  expressing 
himself  forcibly  on  the  subject  of  ladies  whom  he  did 
not  consider  virtuous.  Clarendon,  who  thought  the 
King's  passion  to  be  stronger  for  Frances  Stewart  than 
for  any  other  woman,  says  that  she  "  carried  it  with 
that  discretion  and  modesty  that  she  made  no  other 
use  of  it  than  for  the  convenience  of  her  own  fortune 
and  subsistence,  which  was  narrow  enough."  Accord- 
ing to  the  Gramont  Memoirs,  her  virtue  broke  down 
before  her  marriage,  overcome  by  the  King's  grant 
of  her  request  to  allow  her  to  be  the  first  to  ride  in  a 
new  carriage  just  arrived  from  France  !  But  these 
memoirs  cannot  be  treated  as  good  evidence  unless 
strongly  supported  by  other  testimony.  The  secret 
of  the  girl's  power  over  Charles  seems  to  have  been  a 
combination  of  beauty,  artless  conversation,  and  an 
obduracy  which  piqued  his  vanity  and  attracted  him 
by  its  rarity  at  his  Court. 

Frances  Stewart  soon  begins  to  figure  largely  in  the 
writings  of  the  day.  On  February  23rd  she  is  one 
of  the  ladies  noticed  by  Pepys  at  a  performance  of 


92  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Dryden's  first  play  The  Wild  Gallant,  at  the  King's 
private  theatre  at  Whitehall.  "  My  Lady  Castle- 
maine  was  all  worth  seeing  to-night,"  he  says,  "  and 
little  Steward."  He  is  unsuspicious  of  the  coming 
struggle  as  yet,  and  records,  on  the  same  date,  the 
omnipotence  of  the  Royal  mistress.  "  This  day  was  I 
told  that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  hath  all  the  King's 
presents,  made  him  by  the  peers,  given  to  her,  which 
is  a  most  abominable  thing  ;  and  that  at  the  great 
ball  she  was  much  richer  in  Jewells  than  the  Queen 
and  Duchess  put  both  together."  He  might  have 
added,  had  he  been  aware  of  it,  that  it  was  she  who 
was  the  chief  patron  of  Dryden's  play,  "  so  poor  a 
thing  "  though  he  thought  it.  For  Dryden  wrote  to 
thank  Lady  Castlemaine  for  her  encouragement  of 
him  at  this  time  in  an  adulatory  verse  epistle. 

For  a  time  we  only  catch  glimpses  of  Lady  Castle- 
maine— at  Whitehall,  after  service  in  the  Chapel 
Royal,  where  among  the  fine  ladies  she  is  "  above  all, 
that  only  she  I  can  observe  for  true  beauty,"  as  Pepys 
quaintly  expresses  it  ;  in  Hyde  Park,  where  the  King 
and  she,  riding  in  separate  coaches,  greet  one  another 
at  every  turn  of  the  Ring,  round  which  it  was  the 
fashion  to  drive  ;  at  St.  George's  Feast  at  Windsor, 
when  the  newly  created  Duke  of  Monmouth  was 
married  to  the  Lady  Anne  Scott,  only  child  of  the 
second  Earl  of  Buccleugh,  with  whom  he  got  a  very 
large  fortune.  Unfortunately  Pepys  was  not  present 
at  the  ceremony  at  Windsor.  But  Gramont,  who 
probably  was,  has  a  few  words  about  it  in  the  Memoirs. 
"  New   festivals   and   entertainments   celebrated   this 


THE    CASTLEMAINE    ASCENDANCY     93 

marriage,"  he  says.  "  The  most  effectual  method  to 
pay  court  to  the  King  was  to  outshine  the  rest  in 
brilHancy  and  grandeur.  .  .  .  The  fair  Stewart,  then 
in  the  meridian  of  her  glory,  attracted  all  eyes,  and 
commanded  universal  respect  and  admiration.  The 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  endeavoured  to  eclipse  her  at 
this  festival  by  a  load  of  jewels  and  by  all  the  artificial 
ornaments  of  dress.  But  it  was  in  vain  ;  her  face 
looked  rather  thin  and  pale,  from  the  commencement 
of  a  third  or  fourth  pregnancy,  which  the  King  was 
still  pleased  to  place  to  his  own  account ;  and,  as  for 
the  rest,  her  person  could  in  no  respect  stand  in  com- 
petition with  the  grace  and  beauty  of  Miss  Stewart." 

Gramont  is,  as  usual,  very  loose  in  his  chronology, 
for  Barbara  was  not  to  be  Duchess  of  Cleveland  for 
another  seven  years,  nor  by  any  means  could  Frances 
Stewart  be  described  as  in  "  the  meridian  of  her 
glory "  yet.  The  maid  of  honour  had  only  very 
recently  reached  England,  and  the  rivalry  between  her 
and  the  royal  mistress  had  barely  commenced.  The 
elder  woman  (not  yet  twenty-two  herself)  was  so 
far  quite  pleased  to  patronise  the  little  Stewart,  as 
Gramont  himself  bears  witness  later. 

On  the  Court's  return  from  the  festivities  at  Windsor 
on  April  24th,  Charles  took  a  step  which  must  have 
settled  the  doubts  of  the  most  charitably  minded 
persons  in  the  kingdom  as  to  the  position  of  the 
Countess  of  Castlemaine  at  his  Court.  Pepys,  of  course, 
has  the  story  early,  in  fact,  on  the  very  next  day,  how 
"  she  is  removed  from  her  own  home  to  a  chamber  in 
Whitehall,  next  to  the  King's  own  ;  which  I  am  sorry 


94  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

to  hear,  though  I  love  her  much."  This  news  is  con- 
firmed by  Dr.  Pierce  soon  after,  and  was  quite  true, 
for  Lady  Castlemaine  had  left  King  Street  and  taken 
up  her  abode  in  the  buildings  which  were  included  in 
Whitehall  Palace. 

Curiously,  the  move  to  Whitehall  had  scarcely  been 
made — and  also  the  warrant  for  creating  Lady  Castle- 
maine and  other  ladies  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the 
Queen  passed — when  there  spread  about  still  more 
definite  and  persistent  rumours  of  an  alteration  in  the 
King's  affections.  Scandal  proceeds  to  couple  Frances 
Stewart's  name  with  the  mistress's,  as  though  they 
were  on  a  similar  footing  with  His  Majesty  ;  and, 
more  astonishing  still,  the  Queen  "  begins  to  be 
brisk  and  play  like  other  ladies,  and  is  quite  another 
woman  from  what  she  was,"  so  that  there  are  specula- 
tions whether  the  King  may  not  be  made  to  like 
her  better  and  forsake  Lady  Castlemaine  and 
Mrs.  Stewart.  Even  Pepys  seems  for  a  while  shaken 
in  his  allegiance.  On  June  13th  he  sees  his  idol,  "  who, 
I  fear,  is  not  so  handsome  as  I  have  taken  her  for, 
and  now  she  begins  to  decay  something  !  "  This  is 
also  the  opinion  of  Mrs.  Pepys,  "  for  which  I  am  sorry," 
says  her  husband.  He  makes  handsome  amends,  how- 
ever, a  year  later,  when  he  speaks  of  "  Mrs.  Stewart, 
who  is  indeed  very  pretty,  but  not  like  my  Lady 
Castlemaine,  for  all  that." 


From  a  photog7nJ>h  by  11'.  J.  Roberts,  a/h.  ,i  /uiuuuix  ri   ..//   J'lUr  Lcly 
at  Goodwood,  reproduced  by  permission  of  tlic  Earl  of  iSfarch 

FRANCES   STEWART 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    RIVALS 

"  'TpO  Westminster  Hall,"  says  Pepys,  on  July  3rd, 
1663,  "  and  there  meeting  with  Mr.  Moore 
he  tells  me  great  news  that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  is 
fallen  from  Court,  and  this  morning  retired.  He 
gives  me  no  account  of  the  reason  of  it,  but  that  it  is 
so  :  for  which  I  am  sorry  :  and  yet  if  the  King  do  it 
to  leave  off  not  only  her  but  all  other  mistresses,  I 
should  be  heartily  glad  of  it,  that  he  may  fall  to  look 
after  business." 

Next  day,  as  he  is  dining  v^ith  Creed  very  well 
for  lid.  at  the  King's  Head  ordinary,  "  a  pretty 
gentleman  "  in  their  company  confirms  the  news  and 
further  tells  them  of  "  one  wipe  "  the  Queen  had 
recently  given  the  mistress.  It  appears  that  the  latter 
"  came  in  and  found  the  Queen  under  the  dresser's 
hands,  and  had  been  so  long.  '  I  wonder  Your  Majesty,' 
says  she,  '  can  have  the  patience  to  sit  so  long  a- 
dressing  ?  ' — '  I  have  so  much  reason  to  use  patience,' 
says  the  Queen,  '  that  I  can  very  well  bear  with  it.'  " 
This  gentleman  thinks  it  may  be  that  the  Queen  has 
commanded  Lady  Castlemaine  to  retire  from  Court, 
"  though  that  is  not  likely  "  in  Pepys's  opinion. 

Nor  was  it  the  fact.    What  had  actually  happened 

95 


96  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

is  known  to  us  from  a  letter  which  the  Comte  de 
Cominges  wrote  to  Louis  XIV  on  July  5  th  and  which 
is  among  the  correspondence  from  the  London  Em- 
bassy preserved  in  the  French  Foreign  Office.  "  There 
was  a  great  quarrel  the  other  day  among  the  ladies," 
he  reports,  "  which  was  carried  so  far  that  the  King 
threatened  the  lady  at  whose  apartments  he  sups  every 
evening  that  he  would  never  set  foot  there  again  if  he 
did  not  find  the  Demoiselle  with  her," 

The  lady  with  whom  King  Charles  sups  every 
evening  is,  of  course,  Lady  Castlemaine  ;  and  the 
Demoiselle  is  Frances  Stewart.  The  Gramont 
Memoirs,  which  do  not  record  the  falling  out  between 
Charles  and  Lady  Castlemaine,  have  a  good  deal  to 
say  about  the  way  in  which  the  latter  took  up  the 
young  maid  of  honour  when  she  noticed  that  the 
King  paid  attention  to  her.  "  She  was  not  satisfied," 
writes  Gramont  through  his  biographer,  "  v\dth  ap- 
pearing without  any  degree  of  uneasiness  at  a  prefer- 
ence which  all  the  Court  began  to  remark  ;  she  even 
affected  to  make  Miss  Stewart  her  favourite,  and  in- 
vited her  to  all  the  entertainments  she  made  for  the 
King  .  .  .  being  confident  that,  whenever  she  thought 
fit,  she  could  triumph  over  all  the  advantages  which 
these  opportunities  could  afford  Miss  Stewart ;  but 
she  was  quite  mistaken." 

The  actual  quarrel  between  Charles  and  his  mistress 
now  was  brief,  and  if  her  absence  from  the  Royal 
coaches  in  the  Ring  at  Hyde  Park  on  July  5th 
was  remarked,  it  was  not  because  she  had  been  ban- 
ished from  Court.     On  the  contrary,  according  to  the 


THE    RIVALS  97 

story  which  Captain  Ferrers  brought  Pepys  some 
weeks  later — a  story  more  worthy  of  belief  than  some 
that  he  told — "  her  going  away  was  a  fit  of  her  own 
upon  some  slighting  words  of  the  King."  These 
would,  of  course,  be  connected  with  his  request  that 
he  might  see  Frances  Stewart  in  her  apartments  if 
she  desired  a  continuance  of  his  favour.  Lady  Castle- 
maine,  in  a  rage,  called  for  her  coach  and  drove  off 
to  her  uncle's  house  at  Richmond,  whither  we  have 
seen  her  fly  before.  But  Charles,  for  all  that  he  was 
found  by  people  to  be  stranger  and  colder  than 
ordinary  to  her,  could  not  spare  her.  The  very  next 
morning  after  her  departure,  he  made  a  pretence  of 
going  hunting  at  Richmond,  called  to  see  her  and 
make  friends,  and  "  never  was  a-hunting  at  all." 

So  my  Lady  Castlemaine  was  back  at  Whitehall, 
commanding  the  King  as  much  as  ever  and  flouting 
all  who  crossed  her  will.  Another  of  the  loquacious 
Captain's  stories  shows  the  King  still  absolutely  at  her 
beck  and  call.  On  July  21st  her  cousin,  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  gave  a  private  entertainment  to  Charles 
and  Catherine  at  Wallingford  House  (on  the  site  of 
the  present  Admiralty  Ofhce),  and  did  not  invite  her. 
She  was  that  day  at  the  house  of  her  aunt.  Lady 
Suffolk,  where  she  was  heard  to  say  :  "  Well,  much 
good  may  it  do  them  !  For  all  that  I  will  be  as  merry 
as  they."  So  she  went  home  and  had  a  great  supper 
prepared.  Presently  to  her  from  Wallingford  House 
came  King  Charles,  attended  by  Lord  Sandwich,  and 
spent  the  night.  Not  long  after  we  hear  of  the  King 
being  fetched  to  her  from  the  very  Council-table  by  Sir 


H 


98  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Charles  Berkeley.  She  certainly  could  not  complain 
now  that  she  was  not  openly  acknowledged. 

Nevertheless,  though  she  might  exhibit  her  sway 
over  His  Majesty  in  this  public  way,  one  thing  which 
she  could  not  do  was  to  prevent  him  admiring  other 
ladies,  and  in  particular  Frances  Stewart.  This 
"  cunning  slut  " — the  expression  is  Lord  Sandwich's — 
who  provoked  Charles  so  much  that  he  once  hoped  to 
"  live  to  see  her  ugly  and  willing,"  held  out  stead- 
fastly against  the  royal  offers.  She  refused  to  share 
Lady  Castlemaine's  dishonourable  post,  while  the 
latter,  to  her  mortification,  was  compelled  to  treat 
her  as  a  friend  and  never  be  without  her.  Meanwhile 
she  could  not  but  know  that  people  were  beginning 
to  compare  her  beauty  unfavourably  with  that  of  her 
rival  and,  though  she  herself  was  but  twenty-two,  to 
talk  of  her  decay.  As  soon  as  the  King  could  get  a 
husband  for  Mrs.  Stewart,  they  said  (and,  it  seems, 
with  considerable  prescience),  my  Lady  Castlemaine's 
nose  would  really  be  out  of  joint. 

We  have  heard  Pepys's  somewhat  disillusioned 
criticism  on  his  favourite  lady's  looks  in  the  June  of 
this  year.  A  still  more  interesting  passage  in  the  Diary, 
in  which  he  describes  her  and  the  younger  beauty 
side  by  side,  is  to  be  found  under  the  date  July  13th. 
This  day,  walking  in  Pall  Mall,  he  finds  that  the  King 
and  Queen  are  riding  with  the  ladies  of  honour 
in  the  Park,  and  waits  with  a  great  crowd  of  gal- 
lants  to  see   their    return.      Thus   he   describes   the 


scene 


By  and  by  the  King  and  Queen,  who  looked  in 


THE    RIVALS  99 

this  dress  (a  white  laced  waistcoat  and  a  crimson  short 
pettycoat,  and  her  hair  dressed  a  la  negligence)  mighty 
pretty ;    and  the  King  rode  hand  in  hand  with  her. 
Here  was  also  my  Lady  Castlemaine  rode  among  the 
rest  of  the  ladies  ;    but  the  King  took,  methought, 
no  notice  of  her  ;   nor  when  they  'light  did  anybody 
press  (as  she  seemed  to  expect,  and  staid  for  it)  to 
take  her  down,  but  was  taken  down  by  her  own  gentle- 
man.    She  looked  mighty  out  of  humour  and  had  a 
yellow  plume  in  her  hat  (which  all  took  notice  of),  and 
yet  is  very  handsome,  but  very  melancholy  :    nor  did 
anybody  speak  to  her,  or  she  so  much  as  smile  or  speak 
to  anybody.    I  followed  them  up  into  Whitehall,  and 
into  the  Queen's  presence,  where  all  the  ladies  walked, 
talking  and  fiddling  with  their  hats  and  feathers,  and 
changing  and  trying  one  another's  by  one  another's 
heads,  and  laughing.     But  it  was  the  finest  sight  to 
me,  considering  their  great  beautys  and  dress,  that 
ever  I  did  see  in  all  my  life.     But,  above  all,  Mrs. 
Stewart  in  this  dress,  with  her  hat  cocked  and  a  red 
plume,  with  her  sweet  eye,  little  Roman  nose,  and 
excellent  taille,  is  now  the  greatest  beauty  I  ever  saw, 
I  think,  in  my  life  ;  and,  if  ever  woman  can,  do  exceed 
my  Lady  Castlemaine,  at  least  in  this  dress  :   nor  do  I 
wonder  if  the  King  changes,  which  I  verily  believe  is 
the  reason  of  his  coldness  to  my  Lady  Castlemaine." 

The  impressionable  Pepys  was,  indeed,  extremely 
smitten  with  Mrs.  Stewart  this  day,  as  students  of  the 
Diary  will  remember. 

On  July  23rd  the  King  and  Queen  went  down  to 
Tunbridge  Wells,  the  latter  having  been  recommended 


100  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

by  her  doctors  to  try  the  none  too  pleasant  waters 
there  as  a  cure  for  that  which  undoubtedly  did  more 
than  anythincr  to  make  Charles  so  unfaithful  to  her, 
her  lack  of  children.  She  should  have  gone  in  May, 
but  so  short  of  money  was  the  Royal  Household  that 
the  visit  could  not  be  made  until  nearly  the  last  week 
in  July.  The  King  was  in  London  again  four  days 
later  to  prorogue  Parliament  and  then  returned  to 
the  Wells,  where  he  and  Catherine  are  seen  to  be  on 
excellent  terms.  Dr.  Pierce,  who  has  just  purchased 
the  place  of  Groom  of  the  Privy  Chamber  to  Her 
Majesty,  reports  to  Pepys  that  she  "  is  grown  a  very 
debonnaire  lady,  and  now  hugs  him  [the  King],  and 
meets  him  gallopping  upon  the  road,  and  all  the 
actions  of  a  fond  and  pleasant  lady  that  can  be."  The 
King,  says  Pierce,  "  has  a  chat  now  and  then  of  Mrs. 
Stewart,  but  there  is  no  great  danger  of  her,  she  being 
only  an  innocent,  young,  raw  girl ;  but  my  Lady 
Castlemaine,  who  rules  the  King  in  matters  of  State, 
and  do  what  she  list  with  him,  he  believes  is  now 
falling  quite  out  of  favour." 

Lady  Castlemaine,  it  seems,  accompanied  the  Court 
to  Tunbridge  Wells,  although  she,  unlike  the  Queen, 
was  expecting  very  shortly  the  birth  of  a  child.  But 
she  can  have  played  little  part  in  the  amusements  of 
the  Court,  of  which  Cominges  gives  a  glimpse  in  the 
sheet  of  Court  news  for  August,  sent  by  him  to 
Louis.  "  One  might  well  call  these  the  Waters  of 
Scandal,"  he  writes,  "  for  they  have  come  near  ruining 
the  good  names  of  the  maids  and  the  ladies  (I  mean 
those  who  are   there   without   their  husbands).       It 


THE    RIVALS  loi 

took  a  whole  month,  and  more  in  some  cases,  for  them 
to  justify  themselves  and  save  their  honour  ;  and  it  is 
even  said  that  a  few  of  them  have  not  yet  got  clear. 
This  is  the  cause  why  the  Court  returns  in  eight  days' 
time,  leaving  one  of  the  Queen's  ladies  behind  to  pay 
for  the  others." 

After  quitting  Tunbridge  Wells,  the  Court  moved 
to  Bath  for  a  month,  in  order  that  the  Queen  might 
continue  her  cure.  They  set  out  from  Vauxhall  on 
August  26th,  There  is  no  mention  of  the  Countess 
of  Castlemaine  accompanying  them.  On  the  contrary, 
after  a  conversation  with  Mrs.  Sarah,  on  September 
22nd,  Pepys  writes  :  "  This  day  the  King  and  Queen 
are  to  come  to  Oxford.  I  hear  my  Lady  Castlemaine 
is  for  certain  gone  to  Oxford  to  meet  him,  having  lain 
within  here  at  home  this  week  or  two  supposed  to 
have  miscarried." 

Mrs.  Sarah  was  usually  well  informed,  and  her  very 
considerable  error  in  one  particular  here  seems  to 
show  that  there  was  a  good  deal  of  mystery  about  the 
birth  of  Henry,  second  son  of  Lady  Castlemaine, 
afterwards  Duke  of  Grafton.  Moreover,  the  date  of 
the  event  is  supposed  to  have  been  September  20th, 
1663.  Yet  the  mother  starts  two  days  later  upon 
the  journey  from  London  to  Oxford,  which  cannot 
have  been  easy  for  her  at  such  a  time,  and  is  next  heard 
of  in  lodgings  near  Christ  Church  Meadows  on  the 
morning  of  the  24th. 

King  Charles,  we  know,  hesitated  for  some  years  to 
recognise  Henry  (Palmer  or  Fitzroy,  as  he  was  at  first 
variously  called)  as  his  child.     Lord  Castlemaine  had 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRAI 


102  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

long  ceased  living  with  his  wife,  and  is  not  heard  of  in 
England  later  than  November  1662.  Scandal  sug- 
gested that  the  father's  name  was  Charles  Berkeley, 
Lord  Fitzharding ;  and  his  office  of  go-between  to  the 
King  and  the  lady  naturally  aroused  such  suspicions  in 
a  Court  so  prone  to  suspect. 

The  royal  visit  to  Oxford,  for  which  Lady  Castle- 
maine  left  London  so  soon  after  Henry's  birth,  lasted 
a  week.  The  King  and  Queen,  coming  from  the  west 
by  way  of  Cirencester,  dined  with  Lord  Chancellor 
Clarendon,  who  was  also  Chancellor  of  the  University, 
at  his  house  at  Cornbury,  eight  miles  outside  the  city, 
on  the  23rd.  Arriving  from  the  other  direction.  Lady 
Castlemaine  may  be  assumed  not  to  have  been  present 
(she  could  only  have  been  so  uninvited)  at  the  country 
home  of  the  man  whom  she  was  determined  to  ruin  ; 
nor  to  have  assisted,  therefore,  at  the  two  receptions 
of  the  royal  party,  first  by  the  University  authorities 
at  the  last  mile-stone  as  thev  entered  Oxford,  and  then 
by  the  Mayor  and  other  civic  dignitaries.  She  did  not 
see  Charles  take  from  the  hands  of  the  Chancellor  the 
"  large  fair  Bible,"  covered  with  black  plush,  bossed 
and  clasped  with  silver  double-gilt,  etc.,  of  which 
Antony  Wood  tells ;  nor,  from  those  of  the  Mayor, 
the  purse  of  white  satin,  embroidered  with  the  King's 
arms  and  "  beset  with  aglets  and  pearles,"  containing 
j^300  in  gold.  But  she  may  have  seen  the  further 
reception  at  Christ  Church,  when  the  King,  arriving 
by  torchlight  through  a  lane  made  down  St.  Giles's  by 
the  city  militia,  was  welcomed  by  the  Dean,  in  whose 
lodgings  he  was  to  sleep. 


THE    RIVALS  103 

At  any  rate,  she  was  with  Charles  again  early  next 
day,  for  Wood  has  the  following  entry  under  Septem- 
ber 24th  :  "  The  King  betimes  in  the  morning  went 
to  Xt.  Ch.  meed  [Christ  Church  Meadows]  to  view 
and  see  where  the  workers  were,  and  called  upon  the 
countess  of  Castlemaine,  who  then  lay  in  Dr.  Richard 
Gardiner's  lodgings  next  to  the  fields.  .  .  ."  Some 
blotted  words  follow,  which  seem  to  indicate  that  Wood 
at  first  expressed  an  opinion  either  on  the  King's 
behaviour  or  on  the  lady's  character,  but  afterwards 
expunged  it. 

We  hear  no  more  of  Barbara  during  this,  her  first 
visit  to  Oxford.  After  a  busy  week,  which  included 
in  its  programme  an  audience  to  the  University 
authorities  at  Christ  Church,  a  Convocation  at  the 
Schools,  a  fox-hunt  ending  at  Cornbury,  and  two 
touchings  for  the  King's  Evil  in  the  Cathedral  choir, 
the  whole  Court  set  off  for  Whitehall  on  the  30th. 
Pepys  notes  the  return  of  King  and  Court,  "  from  their 
progress,"  on  October  ist.  He  also  says,  in  a  later 
entry,  that  he  hears  that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  "  is 
in  as  great  favour  as  ever,  and  that  the  King  supped 
with  her  the  very  first  night  he  came  from  Bath,"  by 
which  he  seems  to  mean  the  night  of  the  return  to 
Whitehall.  Two  other  suppers  he  also  tells  of,  given 
by  Lady  Castlemaine  to  His  Majesty  at  this  time.  For 
one  of  these  there  was  a  chine  of  beef  to  roast,  but 
her  kitchen  was  flooded  by  the  Thames  and  the  cook 
came  to  tell  her  what  had  happened.  "  Zounds  !  "  said 
my  Lady,  "  you  must  set  the  house  on  fire,  but  it  shall 
be  roasted  !  "     But,  by  carrying  the  chine  elsewhither 


104  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

to  roast,  the  supper  was,  in  the  end,  prepared  without 
burning  the  house. 

It  seems  as  if  nothing  could  induce  Charles  to  fore- 
go these  suppers  at  Lady  Castlemaine's ;  not  even  a 
grief  which  had  all  the  appearance  of  sincerity.  In 
the  middle  of  October  Queen  Catherine  suddenly  fell 
most  seriously  ill.  What  her  complaint  was  it  is 
difficult  to  make  out.  Mrs.  Sarah  says  the  spotted 
fever,  and  that  she  is  as  full  of  the  spots  as  a  leopard  ; 
whereon  Pepys  remarks,  not  very  lucidly,  "  which  is 
very  strange  that  it  should  not  be  more  known  ;  but 
perhaps  it  is  not  so."  On  the  17th  the  doctors  gave 
but  little  hope  of  her  recovery.  When  the  King  came 
to  see  her  that  morning  she  told  him  she  willingly  left 
all  the  world  but  him — at  which  His  Majesty  was  much 
afflicted,  according  to  Arlington,  who  described  the 
scene  in  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  The 
Gramont  Memoirs  supply  further  information  : 

"  The  Queen  was  given  over  by  her  physicians  : 
the  few  Portuguese  women  that  had  not  been  sent 
back  to  their  own  country  filled  the  Court  with  dole- 
ful cries  ;  and  the  good  nature  of  the  King  was  much 
affected  with  the  situation  in  which  he  saw  a  princess 
whom,  though  he  did  not  love  her,  yet  he  greatly 
esteemed.  She  loved  him  tenderly,  and,  thinking  that 
it  was  the  last  time  she  should  ever  speak  to  him, 
she  told  him  that  '  the  concern  he  showed  for  her 
death  was  enough  to  make  her  quit  life  with  regret  ; 
but  that,  not  possessing  charms  sufficient  to  merit  his 
tenderness,  she  had  at  least  the  consolation  in  dying 
to  give  place  to  a  consort  who  might  be  more  worthy 
of  it  and  to  whom  Heaven,  perhaps,  might  grant  a 


THE    RIVALS  105 

blessing  that  had  been  refused  to  her.'  At  these  words 
she  bathed  his  hands  with  some  tears,  which  he  thought 
would  be  her  last ;  he  mingled  his  own  with  hers ; 
and,  without  supposing  she  would  take  him  at  his  word, 
he  conjured  her  to  live  for  his  sake." 

Gramont,  or  Hamilton,  cannot  omit  the  sting  in 
the  tail  of  the  anecdote.  But  Charles  scarcely  de- 
served to  escape  the  cynical  suggestion  when  he  could 
give  occasion  for  the  French  Ambassador  to  write  as 
follows  to  his  master  : 

"  I  am  just  come  from  Whitehall,  where  I  left  the 
Queen  in  a  state  in  which,  according  to  the  doctors, 
there  is  little  room  for  hope.  She  received  extreme 
unction  this  morning.  .  .  .  The  King  seems  to  me 
deeply  affected.  He  supped,  nevertheless,  yesterday 
evening  at  Madame  de  Castlemaine's  and  had  his  usual 
conversations  with  Mademoiselle  Stewart,  of  whom 
he  is  very  fond.  There  is  already  talk  of  his  marrying 
[again].  Everyone  gives  him  a  wife  according  to  his 
inclination,  and  there  are  some  who  do  not  look  for 
her  out  of  England." 

If  any  confirmation  were  required  of  what  Cominges 
says  of  the  King's  behaviour,  there  is  Mrs.  Sarah's 
report  to  Pepys,  "  that  the  King  do  seem  to  take  it 
much  to  heart  .  .  .  but,  for  all  that,  that  he  hath 
not  missed  one  night  since  she  was  sick,  of  supping 
with  my  Lady  Castlemaine."  Perchance,  in  his  state 
of  low  spirits  His  Majesty  felt  more  than  ever  the 
need  of  that  company  and  conversation  from  which 
he  once  told  Clarendon  he  would  not  be  restrained. 


io6  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

The  critical  state  of  the  Queen's  illness,  whatever 
it  was,  continued  well  into  the  second  half  of  October, 
so  that  people  began  to  prepare  for  the  possibility  of 
going  into  mourning.  But  on  the  24th  she  was  out  of 
danger.  "  The  Queen  is  in  a  good  way  of  recovery," 
writes  Pepys  that  day ;  "  and  Sir  Francis  Pridgeon 
[Prujean]  hath  got  great  honour  by  it,  it  being  all 
imputed  to  his  cordiall,  which  in  her  dispaire  did  give 
her  rest  and  brought  her  to  some  hope  of  recovery."  ^ 
The  pious  Queen,  however,  imputed  her  restoration 
to  health  to  her  husband's  prayers  ;  and  the  Poet 
Laureate  Waller  to  His  Majesty's  tears  ! 

"  "When  no  healing  art  prevail'd, 
When  cordials  and  elixirs  fail'd, 
On  your  pale  cheeks  he  dropt  the  shower 
Reviv'd  you  like  a  dying  flower." 

A  pathetic  part  of  the  Queen's  illness  was  that  in  her 
delirium  she  raved  about  having  given  birth  to  an 
heir  to  the  throne,  whom  the  King  was  fain  to  humour 
her  by  declaring  a  very  pretty  boy.  Another  day  she 
fancied  that  she  had  three  children,  of  whom  the  girl 
was  very  like  the  King,  and  woke  from  sleep  asking, 
"  How  do  the  children  ?  "  Some  at  least  of  the 
tragedy  of  Catherine's  life  might  have  been  removed 
had  her  dream  about  a  son  been  true.  But  the  King, 
though  destined  to  have  several  more  sons  by  other 
women,  was  never  to  have  a  child  from  her. 

With  the  Queen  restored  to  health,  the  old  situa- 
tion continues,  the  King  being,  as  it  were,  in  the  midst 

^  It  is  not  until  November  lOth,  however,  that  she  is  quite  well 
again  and  "hath  bespoke  herself  a  new  gowne," 


THE    RIVALS  107 

of  a  triangle  of  which  the  angles  are  the  Queen,  the 
Countess  of  Castlemaine,  and  Frances  Stewart ;  his 
wife,  his  mistress,  and  the  lady  who  cannot  be  one 
and  will  not  be  the  other.  During  the  worst  crisis  of 
Catherine's  illness  it  was  believed  by  many  that,  if 
she  died,  the  little  maid  of  honour  would  become 
her  lawful  successor.  And  actually  we  hear  of  a 
"  committee,"  as  Lord  Sandwich  calls  it  to  Pepys,  of 
Edward  Montagu,  Sandwich's  cousin  (afterwards 
second  Earl  of  Manchester),  Sir  H.  Bennett,  and  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  with  "  somebody 
else,"  whose  name  is  not  divulged,  "  for  the  getting  of 
Mrs.  Stewart  for  the  King."  But  Frances,  advised  by 
the  Queen-Dowager  Henrietta  Maria  and  by  her  own 
mother,  proves  a  cunning  slut,  and  the  precious  plot  is 
spoiled.  Montagu  and  the  Duke  quarrel,  and  the 
former  makes  up  to  his  kinsman  Sandwich,  who  is  a 
friend  of  Lady  Castlemaine. 

Dr.  Pierce  adds  his  contribution  to  the  gossip,  telling 
"  how  the  King  is  now  become  besotted  upon  A4rs. 
Stewart,  that  he  gets  into  corners,  and  will  be  with 
her  half  an  houre  together  kissing  her  to  the  observa- 
tion of  all  the  world."  As  for  my  Lady  Castlemaine, 
"  the  King  is  still  kind,  so  as  now  and  then  he  goes  to 
have  a  chat  with  her,  but  with  no  such  fondness  as  he 
used  to  do." 

In  this  curious  and  disgraceful  situation  it  may  be 
safely  asserted  that  no  one  had  more  reason  to  be  glad 
of  the  Queen's  recovery  than  the  royal  mistress.  Had 
Catherine  died  and  Charles  taken  Frances  Stewart 
as  his  second  wife.  Lady  Castlemaine  could  not  have 


io8  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

continued  to  rule  the  King  as  she  had  done  from 
1661.  La  belle  Stuart  was  no  Catherine  of  Braganza, 
as  is  clear  from  her  diplomatic  management  of  her 
importunate  royal  lover,  and  from  her  holding  of 
her  own  in  this  dissolute  Court  at  the  age  of  only 
sixteen  years. 

But  if  the  Countess  had  grounds  for  gratitude  to 
the  Queen  for  continuing  to  live,  there  is  no  sign  of 
any  better  relations  being  established  between  them 
than  what  may  be  called  the  armed  neutrality  estab- 
lished after  the  return  from  Hampton  Court  in  1662. 
The  next  step  taken  by  Lady  Castlemaine,  though  it 
brought  her  in  a  sense  nearer  to  the  Queen,  scarcely 
commended  itself  to  the  latter,  who  could  not  believe 
that  it  v/as  prompted  by  conscience.  My  Lady  became 
a  Roman  Catholic.  Cominges  writes  to  Hugues  de 
Lionne  :  "  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont's  marriage  ^ 
and  Madame  de  Castlemaine's  conversion  were  made 
public  the  same  day.  The  King  of  England,  having 
been  begged  by  the  lady's  relatives  to  interfere  to 
prevent  this  step,  gallantly  replied  that,  as  for  the 
soul  of  the  ladies,  he  never  meddled  with  that." 

There  is  nothing  which  gives  us  any  clue  to  the 
immediate  reason  of  Barbara's  conversion  to  Roman 
Catholicism  at  this  present  moment.  In  spite  of 
Catherine's  suspicion,  it  is  difficult  to  discover  any 
interested  motive  for  Lady  Castlemaine's  change  of 
faith — unless  we  accept  the  explanation  given  in  the 

^  To  the  celebrated  beauty  Elizabeth  Hamilton,  sister  of  Antony 
Hamilton,  Gramont's  later  biographer ;  of  James,  reputed  lover  of 
Lady  Castlemaine — among  others;  and  of  four  more  brothers  besides. 


BARBARA   VILLIERS,    COUNTESS   OF   CASTLEMAINE 
AND    DUCHESS  OF   CLEVELAND 


THE    RIVALS  109 

scurrilous  Secret  History  of  the  Reigns  of  King  Charles 
II  and  King  James  11^  that  she  knew  that  the  King 
was  covertly  a  Papist  and  "  had  been  often  heard  to 
say  that  she  did  not  embrace  the  Catholic  religion  out 
of  any  esteem  that  she  had  for  it,  but  because  that 
otherwise  she  could  not  continue  the  King's  mistress  : 
and  consequently  Miss  of  State."  ^ 

In  the  popular  estimation,  never  favourably  inclined 
toward  her,  Lady  Castlemaine  undoubtedly  did  her- 
self enormous  injury  by  her  change,  as  was  to  be  shown 
in  the  future.  The  Church  of  England,  however, 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  express  much  regret  at 
the  defection  of  such  a  daughter.  When  told  of 
it  by  William  Penn  the  Quaker,  Edward  Stillingfleet 
(preacher  at  the  Rolls  Chapel  and  afterwards  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's  and  Bishop  of  Norwich)  remarked  that,  if 
the  Church  of  Rome  had  got  no  more  by  it  than  the 
Church  of  England  had  lost,  then  the  matter  would 
not  be  much  ! 

A  few  months  after  her  conversion  Lady  Castle- 
maine is  seen  attending  service  at  the  chapel  attached 
to  the  French  Embassy  in  the  Strand.  It  is  Holy  Week 
and,  Cominges  writes  to  Lionne,  "  the  King  has  done 
me  the  honour  to  lend  me  his  French  musicians,  thanks 
to  whom  a  number  of  people  in  society  come  to  my 
chapel,  Madame  de  Castlemaine  especially,  whom  I 
mean  to  regale  as  well  as  I  can." 

^  Miss  Strickland  suggests  that  Lady  Castlemaine  "was  cunningly 
preparing,  in  case  of  being  abandoned  by  her  royal  lover,  to  pave  the 
way  for  a  reconciliation  with  her  injured  husband  by  embracing  his 
religion."     This  does  not  seem  a  likely  explanation. 


no  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

At  the  beginning  of  1664  we  continue  to  hear 
regularly  of  Charles's  infatuation  with  Frances  Stewart 
and  his  comparative  disregard  for  his  mistress.  Dr. 
Pierce  walks  an  hour  with  Pepys  in  the  Matted  Gallery 
at  Whitehall  on  January  20th,  and  tells  him,  among 
other  things,  "  that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  is  not  at 
all  set  by  by  the  King,  but  that  he  do  doat  upon  Mrs. 
Stewart  only  ;  and  that  to  the  leaving  of  all  business 
in  the  world,  and  to  the  open  slighting  of  the  Queene  ; 
that  he  values  not  who  sees  him  or  stands  by  him  while 
he  dallies  with  her  openly  ;  and  then  privately  in  her 
chamber  below,  where  the  very  sentrys  observe  his 
going  in  and  out ;  and  that  so  commonly  that  the 
Duke  or  any  of  the  nobles,  when  they  would  ask  where 
the  King  is,  they  will  ordinarily  say, '  Is  the  King  above 
or  below  ?  '  meaning  with  Mrs.  Stewart  :  that  the 
King  do  not  openly  disown  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  but 
that  she  comes  to  Court."  And,  according  to  Pierce, 
Lady  Castlemaine  consoles  herself  with  Lord  Fitz- 
harding,  the  Hamiltons,  and  Lord  Sandwich.  About 
a  fortnight  later  the  same  informant  has  more  to  tell 
on  the  same  theme  of  Charles  and  the  maid  of  honour, 
and  how  some  of  the  best  parts  of  the  Queen's  join- 
ture are  "  bestowed  or  rented  to  my  Lord  Fitzharding 
and  Mrs.  Stewart  and  others  of  that  crew."  In  spite 
of  which,  Mr.  Pepys  soon  after  finds  "  Mrs.  Stewart 
grown  fatter  and  not  so  fair  as  she  was  "  ! 

My  Lady  Castlemaine,  however,  was  not  one  to  be 
easily  slighted.  The  Diary  records  a  curious  scene 
at  the  theatre  in  Whitehall,  where  The  Indian  Queen^ 
by  Dryden  and  Sir  Robert  Howard,  is  being  played. 


THE    RIVALS  in 

Lady  Castlemaine  Is  in  her  box,  next  to  the  royal 
box,  before  Charles  comes.  On  his  arrival,  "  leaning 
over  other  ladies  awhile  to  whisper  to  the  King,  she 
rose  out  o£  the  box  and  went  into  the  King's,  and  set 
herself  on  the  King's  right  hand,  between  the  King 
and  the  Duke  of  York  ;  which  he  [Dr.  Pierce]  swears, 
put  the  King  himself,  as  well  as  every  body  else,  out  of 
countenance  ;  and  believes  that  she  did  it  only  to 
show  the  world  that  she  is  not  out  of  favour  yet,  as  was 
believed." 

A  month  later  Sir  Robert  Paston,  subsequently  Earl 
of  Yarmouth,  writing  to  his  wife  to  describe  the  scene 
at  the  prorogation  of  Parliament  on  March  2nd  and 
Charles's  departure  from  the  House  of  Lords,  says  : 
"  The  press  drive  me  up  to  the  King's  very  elbow,  and 
I  had  like  to  have  carried  my  Lady  Castlemaine  along 
in  the  crowd,  who  was  pleased  very  civilly  to  take 
notice  of  me."  It  is  clear  that  the  lady  was  not 
suffering  her  King  to  deprive  her  of  the  pleasure 
of  close  association  with  him  in  public. 

Further,  she  is  able  to  keep  a  hold  upon  him  through 
his  tenderness  of  heart,  for  he  goes  at  midnight 
to  her  nurses  and  takes  her  child  up  and  dances  it  in 
his  arms — the  child  being  the  five-months-old  Henry, 
whom  he  thus  treats  kindly,  in  spite  of  not  yet  ac- 
cepting him  as  his  own  offspring. 

About  this  time  Lady  Castlemaine  is  supposed  to 
have  moved  into  new  lodgings  at  Whitehall  Palace. 
On  January  25th  there  had  been  a  fire  in  her  apart- 
ments, when  she  bid  "  ^40  for  one  to  adventure  the 
fetching  of  a  cabinet  out,  which  at  last  was  got  to  be 


112  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

done."  The  fire  was  put  out  without  much  damage 
to  property,  but  its  occurrence  may  have  been  made 
a  reason  for  a  move.  At  any  rate,  we  learn  that  on 
May  29th,  the  King's  birthday,  Charles  was  "  at  my 
Lady  Castlemaine's  lodgings  (over  the  hither-gate  at 
Lambert's  lodgings)  dancing  with  fiddlers  all  night 
almost,  and  all  the  world  coming  by  taking  notice  of 
it,"  which  Pepys  is  sorry  to  hear. 

As  she  is  not  before  this  stated  to  have  resided  "  over 
the  hither-gate  "  of  Whitehall,  and  as  "  Countess  of 
Castlemaine's  kitchen  "  is  placed  in  an  old  survey  of 
the  Palace  in  the  Cockpit  buildings,  on  the  West  side 
of  the  street  running  from  that  gate  to  the  King 
Street  gate  of  the  Palace,  it  is  thought  that  in  the 
early  part  of  this  year  she  exchanged  her  former  rooms 
for  some  rather  nearer  to  the  royal  apartments.  The 
evidence  is  not  quite  conclusive,  but  on  the  other 
hand  there  is  a  fairly  good  case  for  a  change  of  abode. 
The  new  lodgings  (if  they  were  new)  were  in  the  gate- 
house built  across  Whitehall  after  Holbein's  design  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  VHI  and  not  pulled  down  until 
1759.  This  gatehouse  was  used  by  King  Henry  as  a 
study.  During  the  Commonwealth  it  was  inhabited 
by  Lambert,  and  now  it  was  given  up  to  a  royal 
mistress,  so  that  it  had  a  varied  history. 

For  some  time  after  this  supposed  change  of  abode 
we  hear  very  little  of  Lady  Castlemaine.  She  appears 
at  the  lottery  organised  by  Sir  Arthur  Slingsby  in  the 
Banqueting  Hall  (which  was  very  close  to  the  Holbein 
Gate) ;  for  Pepys,  who  manages  as  usual  to  get  in  here 
and  place  himself  in  the  midst  of  all  that  is  worth 


THE    RIVALS  113 

seeing,  stands  "  just  behind  my  Lady  Castlemaine, 
whom  I  do  heartily  adore."  We  do  not  hear  what 
luck  the  lady  had  at  the  lottery,  which  Evelyn,  who 
was  also  present,  says  "  was  thought  to  be  contrived 
very  unhandsomely  by  the  master  of  it,  who  was,  in 
truth,  a  meer  shark." 

There  was  a  very  good  cause  for  the  lady  not 
being  much  seen  in  public  about  this  period.  On 
September  5th,  1664,  there  was  born  at  White- 
hall Palace,  Charlotte  Fitzroy,  second  daughter  of 
Lady  Castlemaine.  So  secretly  did  the  birth  take  place 
that  Pepys's  Diary  shows  no  knowledge  of  the  child's 
existence  at  any  date ;  while  Pepys's  friend  Pierce,  the 
doctor,  surmiises  less  than  four  weeks  before  the  event 
something  entirely  incorrect  about  the  condition  of 
affairs,  and  again,  on  November  nth,  Pepys  unsus- 
pectingly writes :  "  My  wife  tells  me  the  sad  news  of 
my  Lady  Castlemaine's  being  now  become  so  decayed 
that  no  one  would  know  her  ;  at  least,  far  from  a 
beauty,  which  I  am  sorry  for." 

Charles  had,  no  doubt,  the  best  of  reasons  for  keeping 
Charlotte's  appearance  in  the  world  from  common 
knowledge  as  long  as  possible,  for  there  was  no  chance 
of  attributing  the  child  to  the  lady's  husband  when 
he  had  been  so  long  away  from  England.  The  King 
does  not  seem  to  have  made  any  attempt  to  disown  the 
fathership,  in  spite  of  the  current  scandal  at  Court 
earlier  in  the  year,  and  a  very  affectionate  letter  to 
"  my  deare  Charlotte  "  from  "  your  kinde  father," 
when  she  was  of  an  age  to  appreciate  a  present  of  five 
hundred  guineas,  remains  in  existence  to-day. 


114  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

Only  nine  days  after  the  birth  of  her  child  Lady 
Castlemaine  entertains  in  her  lodgings  at  Whitehall 
Madame  de  Cominges,  the  recently  arrived  wife  of 
the  French  Ambassador.  Cominges  himself,  seemingly 
without  any  suspicion  of  the  lady's  late  experience, 
comments  on  the  magnificence  of  the  affair  and  tells 
how  the  King  "  did  the  honours  of  the  house  in  a 
way  befitting  a  host  rather  than  a  guest." 

If  it  is  curious  that  such  an  inveterate  gossip  and  so 
great  an  admirer  of  Barbara  as  Samuel  Pepys  should 
not  have  heard  of  Charlotte  Fitzroy's  birth,  it  is  still 
more  curious  that  he  should  also  have  failed  to  hear 
about  a  very  unpleasant  mishap  to  the  royal  mistress  a 
month  later.  Perhaps  it  was  because  the  diarist  was 
unusually  occupied  with  his  own  amours  at  this  period 
that  he  had  little  time  to  glean  from  his  general  infor- 
mants the  latest  scandals  in  high  society.  It  is  from  a 
letter  of  the  French  Ambassador  to  Lionne  that  our 
knowledge  of  the  affair  is  derived.  Writing  on  October 
2nd,  Cominges  relates  how  two  days  previously  Lady 
Castlemaine,  returning  home  after  an  evening  spent 
with  the  Duchess  of  York  at  St.  James's  Palace,  and 
accompanied  only  by  one  lady  and  a  little  page,  was 
met  suddenly  in  the  Park  by  three  gentilshommes  (so 
at  least  they  seemed  to  be  from  their  clothes),  wearing 
masks,  who  addressed  to  her  the  strongest  and  harshest 
reprimand  imaginable,  going  so  far  as  to  remind  her 
that  the  mistress  of  Edward  IV  died  on  a  dunghill, 
scorned  and  abandoned  by  all  the  world.  "  You  may 
imagine,"  continues  Cominges,  '"  whether  the  time 
seemed  long  to  her.  ...  As  soon  as  she  was  in  her 


THE    RIVALS  115 

room  she  fainted.  The  King  was  informed  of  it,  and 
running  to  her  assistance  ordered  all  the  gates  to  be 
closed  and  all  persons  found  in  the  Park  to  be  arrested. 
Seven  or  eight  people  who  happened  to  be  there  were 
brought  in,  but  not  identified,  and  have  spread  the 
story.  It  was  desired  to  hush  the  matter  up,  but  I 
think  that  will  be  difficult."  It  was  not  so  difficult,  ap- 
parently, as  Cominges  thought. 

This  was  not  the  first  time,  as  we  know,  that  Lady 
Castlemaine  had  to  endure  the  odious  comparison  of 
herself  with  Jane  Shore  ;  nor  was  it  to  be  the  last. 
Doubtless  the  three  masked  gentlemen  were  people 
about  the  Court,  enemies  of  the  mistress,  and  aware 
of  the  recent  birth  which  had  been  kept  so  carefully 
concealed  from  the  general  public.  If  courtiers,  they 
would  have  chances  of  escape  not  possessed  by  other 
people. 


CHAPTER   VI 
POLITICS    AND   PLAGUE 

'TpHE  outbreak  of  the  war  between  England  and 

Holland  toward  the  end  of  1664,  not  officially 

declared  but  none  the  less  real,  is  doubtless  the  reason 

why  we  hear  less  about  the  gaieties  at  Court  than 

usual  at  this  period.     But  it  took  more  than  foreign 

troubles    to    dissipate    the    frivolous    atmosphere    of 

Whitehall,  so  that  there  is  no  necessity  to  imagine  a 

slackening  of  the  furious  pace  of  pleasure  there.     On 

Candlemas   Day    (February   2nd),    1665,   "^'^   have   a 

glimpse  of  the  Court  at  its  amusements.    On  that  day 

a  masque  was  got  up  to  surprise  the  King.    Evelyn  was 

a  spectator,  but  gives  no  details.     Pepys,  deriving  his 

information  from  Lord  Sandwich's  niece,  tells  how 

"  six  women  (my  Lady  Castlemaine  and  Duchess  of 

Monmouth  being  two  of  them)   and   six  men   (the 

Duke  of  Monmouth  and  Lord  Arran  and  Monsieur 

Blanfort  being  three  of  them)  in  vizards,  but  most 

rich  and  antique  dresses,   did  dance  admirably  and 

most    gloriously."      The   Gramofit   Memoirs    contain 

some  entertaining  but  very  ill-natured  details  about  a 

masquerade  organised  by  Queen  Catherine,  which  has 

been  identified  with  this  Candlemas  Day  revel.    There 

are  several  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  identification, 

one  of  which   is   that   Gramont   describes   a  lady  as 

116 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  117 

still  Mademoiselle  Hamilton  when  she  had  become 
his  own  wife  more  than  a  year  before  and  had  presented 
a  son  to  him  five  months  before  the  revel  !  It  is  true 
that  he  was  a  singularly  forgetful  man  where  his  wife 
was  concerned,  the  tale  being  famous  of  his  attempted 
departure  from  England  after  his  engagement  to  her. 
Her  brothers  hastened  after  him  to  Dover  and,  catch- 
ing him,  asked  him  :  "  Count,  have  you  forgotten 
nothing  in  London  ?  " — "  Pardon  me,"  replied  Gra- 
mont,  "  I  have  forgotten  to  marry  your  sister.  Let  us 
go  back  and  finish  that  affair."  So  he  returned,  married 
Elizabeth  Hamilton,  and  only  changed  his  character 
so  far  as  to  become  the  most  bare-faced  liar  in  the 
world,  according  to  his  compatriot,  King  Louis's 
Ambassador  at  Whitehall. 

To  enliven  the  masquerade  got  up  by  the  Queen 
(whether  it  was  that  of  February  1665  or  not),  Gra- 
mont  makes  Mademoiselle  Hamilton  "  invent  two  or 
three  little  tricks  for  turning  to  ridicule  the  vain  fools 
of  the  Court,  there  being  two  pre-eminently  such  ; 
one  Lady  Muskerry,  wife  of  her  cousin-german,  and 
the  other  a  maid  of  honour  to  the  Duchess  [of  York], 
called  Blague."  Lady  Muskerry,  a  rich  heiress,  but 
no  beauty,  with  one  leg  shorter  than  the  other,  received 
a  forged  invitation  from  the  Queen  to  come  dressed 
"  in  the  Babylonian  fashion,"  and  arrived  at  the  en- 
trance to  Whitehall  "  with  at  least  sixty  ells  of  gauze 
and  silver  tissue  about  her,  not  to  mention  a  sort  of 
pyramid  upon  her  head,  adorned  with  a  hundred 
thousand  baubles  " — to  the  astonishment  of  all  who 
caught  sight  of  her  and  to  the  rage  of  her  husband,  who 


ii8  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

packed  her  off  home  before  she  could  display  her  glory 
in  an  assembly  to  which  she  had  not  really  been  in- 
vited. The  trick  played  upon  Miss  Blague  (sister  of 
the  lady  of  whom  Evelyn  gives  so  noble  and  touching 
a  picture)  was  even  more  cruel,  for  it  had  its  point  in 
an  unrequited  affection,  and  made  her  ridiculous  in 
the  eyes  of  the  man  whom  she  desired  to  love  her. 

These  and  similar  tales,  of  which  there  are  many, 
certainly  give  a  vivid  picture  of  the  freedom  allowed 
at  the  Court  of  him  whom  history  calls  the  "  Merry 
Monarch  "  ;  in  which  freedom  the  ladies  were  not  a 
whit  behind  the  gentlemen.  The  Countess  of  Sandwich 
was  not  overstating  the  case  when  she  talked  to  Pepys 
of  the  "  mad  freaks  "  of  the  maids  of  honour,  when 
even  the  more  innocent  among  them,  like  Elizabeth 
Hamilton  and  Frances  Jennings  (heroine  of  the  orange- 
girl  story  told  by  both  Pepys  and  Gramont),  were 
guilty  of  such  extraordinary  escapades.  Lady  Sand- 
wich observed  that  few  men  would  venture  upon  these 
damsels  for  wives,  and  repeated  a  prophecy  of  Lady 
Castlemaine's,  that  her  daughter  (the  four-year-old 
Anne)  would  be  the  first  maid  at  Court  that  would  be 
married.  But  the  former  Barbara  Villiers  should  surely 
not  have  been  a  harsh  critic  in  matters  of  maidenly 
behaviour  ! 

Early  in  1665  the  husband  whom  she  had  so  much 
wronged  appeared  again  in  England,  and  was  seen  by 
Pepys  at  St.  James's,  where  no  doubt  he  was  paying 
his  respects  to  the  Duke  of  York.  He  had  spent  a 
considerable  portion  of  his  time  abroad  in  the  com- 
pany of  Andrew  Cornaro,  Admiral  of  the  Venetian 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  119 

fleet  carrying  on  war  with  Turkey  in  the  Levant, 
his  experiences  being  embodied  by  him  in  a  letter 
which  he  wrote  to  the  King  from  Venice  and  after- 
wards published.  Returning  home  by  way  of  France, 
he  was  preceded  by  a  report  that  he  was  about  to  make 
friends  with  his  lady  again.  But  we  hear  from  one 
of  Cominges'  letters  to  Lionne  that  he  was  much  dis- 
turbed when  he  found,  on  his  arrival  at  Court,  that 
his  wife  was  the  mother  of  two  more  fine  children 
since  he  had  left  her.  It  is  perhaps  not  surprising, 
therefore,  that  a  few  days  after  his  return  he  set  out 
again  with  the  Duke  of  York  for  the  fleet  to  fight  the 
Dutch,  leaving  his  lady  to  go  her  own  way.  It  was 
probably  on  the  day  before  the  husband's  departure 
from  London  that  Pepys  caught  one  of  his  most  curious 
glimpses  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  in  Hyde  Park.  On 
Sunday,  March  19th,  he  tells  how  he  rode  with  Mr. 
Povy  in  his  coach  to  the  Park,  "  where  many  brave 
ladies ;  among  others,  Castlemaine  lay  impudently 
upon  her  back  in  her  coach  asleep,  with  her  mouth 
open."  It  was  the  first  day  this  year  of  the  "  tour  " 
or  Ring,  vvhere  the  fashionable  people  took  the  air. 
There  was  also  to  be  seen  on  the  same  day  Lady 
Carnegy,  Barbara's  old  friend  Lady  Anne  Hamilton, 
whose  reputation  was  even  worse  than  hers  by  now. 

A  fortnight  later  Lady  Castlemaine  is  seen  with  the 
King  at  the  Duke's  Theatre,  witnessing  Lord  Orrery's 
new  play  Mustapha.  Their  presence  is  to  Pepys  "  all 
the  pleasure  of  the  play  "  ;  but  he  notices  also,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  Diary,  "  pretty  witty  Nell,"  who 
is,  of  course,  none  other  than  the  famous  Nell  Gwynn. 


120  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

But  Lady  Castlemaine  did  not  devote  herself  en- 
tirely to  pleasure  at  this  time.  She  had  long  taken 
her  share  in  the  domestic  politics  of  Charles  II,  and, 
as  we  have  seen,  had  fostered  the  rise  of  Henry 
Bennet  and  Charles  Berkeley  in  the  counsels  of  the 
King,  to  the  discomfiture  of  "  the  old  serious  lords, "^ 
such  as  Clarendon  and  Southampton,  whom  she  hated 
for  refusing  to  seek  her  favour.  Since  she  had  become 
a  Roman  Catholic,  her  apartments  in  Whitehall  had 
more  than  ever  been  the  meeting-place  of  the  faction 
hostile  to  the  Chancellor  and  Treasurer,  and  the  resort 
particularly  of  Bennet,  now  Earl  of  Arlington,  and 
his  co-religionists.  Foreign  affairs  played  their  part 
in  creating  a  wider  divergence  between  the  rival 
parties.  The  outbreak  of  the  quarrel  with  Holland, 
very  unwelcome  to  the  Chancellor  and  his  friends,  was 
popular  with  the  Roman  Catholic  section  of  the  Court ; 
and  the  Duke  of  York,  though  he  showed  no  signs  yet 
of  any  leaning  toward  Rome,  was  also  a  strong  advocate 
of  the  war. 

There  was,  indeed,  no  distinct  division  on  religious 
grounds  in  this  matter  of  a  war  with  Holland. 
At  this  period  a  bitterly  anti-Dutch  feeling  pre- 
vailed in  England  generally,  due  to  the  commercial 
and  colonial  rivalry  of  the  two  leading  naval  Powers 
of  the  world.  On  the  other  hand,  it  did  not  at  all  suit 
the  policy  of  Louis  XIV  of  France  that  one  of  these 
two  nations  should  crush  the  other  and  become  supreme. 
Louis  was  tied  by  treaty  to  the  Dutch  at  present,  and 

^  Otherwise  "  those   old  dotards,"  as   Charles's  other  counsellors 
called  them,  according  to  Lord  Sandwich. 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  121 

at  the  same  time  was  anxious  to  enter  into  closer 
relations  with  England.  He  was,  therefore,  bent  on 
mediating,  if  possible,  between  the  two  countries,  and 
to  this  end  made  extraordinary  diplomatic  efforts, 
which  the  friends  of  France  at  the  English  Court,  in- 
cluding the  adherents  of  the  Queen-Mother  Henrietta 
Maria,  seconded  to  the  best  of  their  ability.  Among 
the  French  party  was  Frances  Stewart,  whose 
mother  was  attached  to  Henrietta  Maria.  Accord- 
ingly we  find  now  the  royal  favourite  and  the 
titular  mistress  of  the  King  no  unimportant  figures  in 
the  struggle  for  the  direction  of  England's  foreign 
policy. 

Louis,  seeing  that  Cominges  alone  was  unable  to 
influence  Charles  in  the  direction  he  desired,  sent 
over  to  help  him  the  extraordinary  mission  which  is 
known  as  la  celehre  Anibassade,  including  a  prince  of 
the  blood,  the  Due  de  Verneuil.  On  their  arrival 
the  envoys  found  the  chief  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
carrying  out  their  instructions  to  prevent  an  ofiicial 
declaration  of  war  between  the  English  and  Dutch 
was  the  alliance  between  Lady  Castlemaine  and  the 
Spanish  Ambassador,  the  Count  de  Molina.  Spain, 
the  great  military  rival  of  France  in  Europe,  was 
naturally  concerned  to  prevent  any  attempt  at  closer 
Anglo-French  relations.  The  Vatican  was  still  domin- 
ated by  her,  and,  in  spite  of  Charles's  Portuguese 
marriage,  which  seemed  to  commit  him  to  hostility 
against  her,  she  had  a  strong  hold  on  the  sympathies 
of  the  English  Roman  Catholics.  Nor  was  she  any 
longer  disliked  by  the  English  nation  generally.    Lady 


122  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Castlemaine,  for  once  in  a  way,  was  ranged  on  the 
more  popular  side. 

The  letters  sent  to  Paris  by  the  representatives  of 
France  this  summer  bring  out  the  attitude  of  the 
mistress  about  the  political  situation.  The  Ambas- 
sadors are  soon  compelled  to  recognise  the  difficulty 
of  their  task.  They  believe  that  the  English  King 
wants  peace,  but  he  tells  them  that  his  people  are  en- 
raged against  the  Dutch  and  that  he  cannot  recall 
his  fleet.  On  June  ist  Verneuil  and  his  associates  write 
reporting  a  bitter  speech  against  the  French  made  at 
Lady  Castlemaine's  by  Lauderdale,  who  ruled  the 
King  as  far  as  Scottish  affairs  were  concerned  and  was 
growing  more  powerful  in  English  affairs  also.  His 
words  are  quickly  on  every  one's  lips  and  are  repeated 
on  the  Exchange  every  morning.  Was  the  King  at 
Lady  Castlemaine^s  to  hear  Lauderdale's  speech  ?  We 
are  not  told,  but  a  day  later  Pepys,  going  to  Court  on 
a  matter  of  business,  is  "  led  up  to  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine's lodgings,  where  the  King  and  she  and  others 
were  at  supper,"  so  that  we  may  presume  His  Majesty 
was  still  constant  at  his  suppers  with  the  mistress. 

On  the  day  after  this  visit  of  Pepys  to  Lady  Castle- 
maine's apartments  was  fought  the  great  naval  battle 
in  Southwold  Bay,  when  the  English  fleet  under  the 
Duke  of  York  gained  a  handsome  victory  over  Opdam 
and  the  other  Dutch  admirals.  The  chief  loss  on 
the  English  side  was  Charles  Berkeley  (or,  as  he  had 
now  lately  become,  Lord  Falmouth),  who  with  Lord 
Muskerry  and  another  was  kiUed  on  board  the  flagship, 
so  close  to  the  Duke  that  he  was  splashed  with  their 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  123 

blood  and  brains.  The  public  rejoicings  over  the 
fleet's  success  were  enthusiastic,  followed  by  demon- 
strations against  the  French  Embassy,  which  refrained 
from  joining  in  the  display  of  bonfires  at  all  the  street 
doors. 

While  this  naval  battle  was  taking  place  Queen 
Catherine  was  at  Tunbridge  Wells  once  more,  drinking 
the  waters,  and  the  Court  ladies  attended  upon  her  in 
their  turns.  "  The  ladies  here,"  writes  Henry  Savile 
from  London  to  his  sister-in-law,  "  begin  to  go  down 
to  pay  their  duty  to  Her  Majesty.  My  Lady  Denham 
goes  this  night,  my  Lady  Castlemaine  and  Lady  Fal- 
mouth go  next  week."  Savile  does  not  anticipate 
much  enjoyment  for  them,  since  he  declares  :  "  That 
Tunbridge  is  the  most  miserable  place  in  the  world 
is  very  certain,  and  that  the  ladys  do  not  look  with 
very  great  advantage  at  three  of  the  clock  in  the 
morning  is  as  true  !  "  Late  hours  were  evidently  the 
rule,  w^hatever  the  ladies  found  to  amuse  them. 

After  her  return  from  the  Wells,  Lady  Castlemaine 
is  next  heard  of  at  a  great  feast  given  by  the  Spanish 
Ambassador  to  her  and  his  other  friends.  The  pro- 
Spanish  party  was  naturally  jubilant  at  the  result  of 
Southwold  Bay,  and  Molina  was  on  the  best  of  terms 
with  all  the  world.  In  honour  of  the  occasion,  his 
hospitality  was  so  lavish  that  even  his  servants,  enter- 
taining the  coachmen  and  lacqueys  of  his  visitors, 
made  them  all  drunk,  and  when  my  Lady  and  the 
other  guests  were  ready  to  depart  they  found  it  im- 
possible to  trust  themselves  to  be  driven  by  men  in 
such  a  state.     Molina  offered  the  services  of  his  own 


124  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

staff,  whereon  the  EngHsh  servants  in  their  indigna- 
tion rose  up  and  fought  them — which  a  French  Em- 
bassy official  finds  "  the  greatest  and  pleasantest  dis- 
order possible." 

But  the  French  refuse  to  lose  heart.  Mademoiselle 
Stewart,  "  incomparably  more  beautiful "  than  Lady 
Castlemaine,  according  to  one  of  them,  is  very  friendly 
to  them,  and  they  think  they  see  hopeful  signs  of  a 
decrease  of  the  Castlemaine  influence.  On  July  i6th 
Courtin,  one  of  the  Ambassadors,  reports  with  satis- 
faction to  Lionne  that  the  mistress  "  has  refused  to 
sleep  at  Hampton  Court,  saying  that  her  apartment 
is  not  yet  ready."  Meanwhile,  "  His  Britannic 
Majesty  supped  yesterday  with  Mile.  Stewart,  at  Lord 
Arlington's  "  ;  Lady  Castlemaine  "  runs  great  risks, 
and  if  her  anger  lasts  may  well  lose  the  finest  rose  on 
her  hat." 

The  move  to  Hampton  Court,  to  which  Courtin 
refers,  was  occasioned  by  fear  of  the  terrible  visitor 
which  had  reached  London  in  the  summer  of  1665. 
During  the  week  ending  June  27th  the  deaths  from 
plague  in  town  had  numbered  267.  The  Court  pre- 
pared to  fly,  and  on  the  29th  Pepys  saw  at  Whitehall 
the  waggons  and  people  ready  to  go.  What  Lady 
Castlemaine  did  when  she  refused  to  sleep  at  Hampton 
Court  we  do  not  know.  It  is  hardly  likely  that  she 
continued  at  Whitehall  when  all  around  the  infection 
was  spreading.  Possibly  she  v/ent  for  a  time  to  Rich- 
mond Palace,  as  we  have  seen  her  go  before  ;  if  so, 
probably  her  retirement  thither  was  as  brief  as  on 
the  previous  occasions. 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  125 

But  soon  the  plague  began  to  extend  its  ravages ; 
the  London  death-rate  increased  enormously,  and  a 
soldier  on  duty  at  Hampton  Court  itself  was  seized. 
So  before  the  end  of  July  a  move  further  out  of  the 
danger-zone  was  decided  on,  and  on  the  27th  the 
Court  set  out  for  Salisbury.  Pepys,  a  visitor  to 
Hampton  Court  that  day,  watches  the  King  and 
Queen  depart  and  finds  it  "  pretty  to  see  the  young 
pretty  ladies  dressed  like  men,  in  velvet  coats,  caps 
with  ribbands,  and  with  laced  bands,  just  like  men." 
No  ladies'  names  are  mentioned,  but  both  Lady  Castle- 
maine  and  Frances  Stewart  were  among  those  who 
accompanied  Their  Majesties  and  may  have  been 
among  the  wearers  of  the  man-like  dress,  with  regard 
to  which  an  Oxford  letter  some  two  months  later  is  of 
interest.  "  One  cannot  possibly  know  a  woman  from 
a  man,"  writes  Denis  de  Repas  to  Sir  Robert  Harley, 
"  unlesse  one  hath  the  eyes  of  a  linx  who  can  see 
through  a  wall,  for  by  the  face  and  garbe  they  are  like 
men.  They  do  not  wear  any  hood,  but  only  men's 
perwick  hats  and  coats." 

The  plague  was  not  slow  in  following  the  fugitives 
to  Salisbury,  and  in  August  there  were  deaths  in  the 
street — "  an  unpleasant  habit  which  begins  to  spread 
here,"  writes  Courtin — and  closings  of  infected  houses. 
It  seemed  necessary  to  make  another  move.  More- 
over, time  doubtless  hung  rather  heavily  on  King  and 
courtiers  alike  at  Salisbury,  while  there  was  the 
assembly  of  Parliament  to  take  place  in  October,  the 
appointed  place  for  which  was  Oxford. 

So  on  September  25th  King  Charles  reached  Oxford 


126  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

and  took  up  his  residence  as  before  in  the  lodgings 
of  the  Dean  of  Christ  Church.  The  Dukes  of  York 
and  Monmouth  arrived  the  same  day,  the  Queen  the 
next.  Lady  Castlemaine  possibly  travelled  with  Her 
Majesty  in  her  capacity  of  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber  ; 
but  her  two  little  sons  came  on  the  25th  and  were 
lodged  at  the  house  of  the  Wood  family,  opposite 
Merton  College  Gate,  as  Antony  Wood  records.^ 
The  Queen  and  her  ladies  were  assigned  rooms  in 
Merton,  the  Queen  having  those  in  the  Warden's 
House  which  Henrietta  Maria  had  occupied  in  the 
troublous  times  of  the  Civil  War,  and  Lady  Castle- 
maine, Frances  Stewart,  and  others  having  rooms  be- 
longing to  various  Fellows  and  Postmasters  of  Merton, 
who  were  turned  out  of  college  to  make  room  for 
them.  The  rest  of  the  Court  and  the  Diplomatic 
Body  were  distributed  about  the  University,  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  York  being  at  Christ  Church,  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Monmouth  at  Corpus,  the  French 
Ambassadors  at  Magdalen,  the  Spanish  at  New  College, 
and  so  on. 

The  task  of  housing  all  these  people  at  Oxford  was 
a  difficult  one,  and  it  is  evident  that  the  Chancellor 
of  the  University  by  no  means  relished  it.  He  tells, 
in  the  Continuation  of  his  life,  how  there  was  some 
unpleasantness  with  the  Lord  High  Treasurer  South- 
ampton about  it.  Attempts  had  recently  been  made 
to  sow  the  seeds  of  ill-will  between  them,  and  South- 

1  "Sept.  25,  M.,  the  lady  of  Castlemaine's  two  children  began  to 
lay  at  our  house."  Wood  apparently  did  not  feel  honoured  by  his 
home  sheltering  the  future  Dukes  of  Southampton  and  Grafton. 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  127 

ampton  was  feeling  some  jealousy  of  his  old  friend. 
''  Which,"  says  Clarendon,  "  was  improved  by  the 
ladies,  who  did  not  like  their  lodging,  and  thought  it 
proceeded  from  w^int  of  friendship  in  him  [the 
Chancellor],  who  had  the  power  over  the  University, 
and  might  have  assigned  what  lodgings  he  pleased  to 
the  Treasurer ;  and  he  had  assigned  this,  as  the  best 
house  in  the  town  for  so  great  a  family." 

As  for  the  University,  it  certainly  seems  to  have 
felt  but  little  pleasure  at  the  prolonged  visit  of  the 
Court  in  its  midst.  The  presence  of  more  ladies  than 
scholars  in  chapel,  which  the  Merton  College  Register 
notes,  did  not  compensate  for  the  turning  out  of  their 
rooms  of  fellows  and  undergraduates  and  the  conse- 
quent upset  of  scholarly  peace. ^  Then  there  was  the 
dread,  fortunately  unrealised,  of  the  great  epidemic 
reaching  the  town  in  the  train  of  the  Court.  "  It 
was  noe  better,"  declares  Wood,  "  than  tempting  God 
to  bring  upon  us  the  sad  judgment  of  the  plague." 
However,  Denis  de  Repas  in  the  above  quoted  letter 
quaintly  remarks :  "  There  is  no  othere  plague  here 
but  the  infection  of  love." 

Wood's  opinion  of  the  intruders  themselves  is  the 
reverse  of  flattering.    He  sums  them  up  thus  : 

"  The  greater  sort  of  the  courtiers  were  high,  proud, 
insolent,  and  looked  upon  scolars  noe  more  than  pedants, 
or  pedagogicall  persons ;  the  lower  sort  also  made  noe 
more  of  them  then  the  greater,  not  suffering  them  to 

1  One  Fellow  of  Merton  sent  Antony  Wood  sixty-nine  folios  to 
look  after  for  him  until  the  King  and  Queen  should  have  left  Oxford. 
He  was  no  doubt  wise. 


T28  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

see  the  King  or  Queen  at  dinner  or  supper  or  scarce 
at  cards  or  at  masse,  never  regarding  that  they  had 
parted  with  their  chambers  and  conveniences.  .  .  .  To 
give  a  further  character  of  the  Court,  they,  though 
they  were  neat  and  gay  in  their  apparell,  yet  they  were 
very  nasty  and  beastly.  .  .  ." 

PoHteness  forbids  us  continuing  the  quotation  ;  but 
Woods  finds  the  courtiers  rude,  rough,  immoral,  vain, 
empty,  and  careless.  He  had  certainly  some  justifica- 
tion for  his  censure,  particularly  as  at  Merton  "  the 
Masters  "  had  to  complain  of  discourtesy  shown  to 
them  by  a  royal  servant  on  the  very  day  after  the 
Queen's  arrival. 

Nevertheless,  the  welcome  given  to  the  visitors  was 
very  loyal.  At  Merton  itself,  when  the  Queen  was 
escorted  to  her  lodgings  by  the  King  and  the  Duke  of 
York,  the  College  authorities  met  them  and  one  of 
the  Fellows  recited  sixteen  lines  of  verse,  of  which  two 
asserted  that  : 

*'  Our  pious  founder,  knew  he  this  daye's  state, 
Would  quitt  his  mansion  to  congratulate." 

Walter  de  Merton  was  happily  beyond  reach  of 
questions  as  to  what  he  might  think  about  the  matter. 

About  Lady  Castlemaine  during  this,  her  second 
visit  to  Oxford,  we  hear  but  little  before  an  oc- 
currence soon  to  be  mentioned.  Her  state  of  health 
now  did  not  allow  her  to  appear  much  in  public.  And, 
unfortunately,  one  supposed  reference  to  her  pro- 
menading in  the  Lime  Walk  of  Trinity  College  with  a 
lute  playing   before  her,   and   attending   the   chapel 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  129 

there  "  like  an  angel  but  half-dressed,"  turns  out  to 
be  an  error,  the  lady  alluded  to  being  really  Lady- 
Isabella  Thynne,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.^ 

But  if  Lady  Castlemaine  was  debarred  from  showing 
herself  much  abroad,  she  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
her  influence  with  the  King  prevailing  still  and  his 
foreign  policy  shaped  according  to  her  desire.  At  the 
end  of  November,  the  French  Ambassadors  quitted 
Oxford,  leaving  with  the  President  of  Magdalen  a 
piece  of  plate  worth  four  pounds  as  a  memorial  of 
their  visit.  La  ceVebre  Ambassade  had  failed.  England 
was  still  in  a  fighting  mood,  as  was  shown  by  the  early 
speeches  of  the  Parliament  which  began  its  sittings 
in  the  schools  at  Oxford  on  October  9th  ;  and  Louis, 
unable  to  stop  the  war  and  pledged  by  treaty  to  aid 

^  As  a  Trinity  man  I  am  sorry  to  spoil  (if,  indeed,  I  am  the  first  to 
do  so,  which  I  do  not  know)  the  pleasant  legend  connecting  Lady 
Castlemaine  with  my  own  college.  But  John  Aubrey  in  his  Lives 
of  Eminent  Men,  writing  of  Ralph  Kettle,  d.d.,  tells  how  a  certain  Lady 
Isabella  Thynne  used  to  visit  Trinity  Lime  Walk  during  the  time  when 
Oxford  was  the  Royalist  head-quarters.  "  Our  grove,"  he  says,  "  was 
the  Daphne  for  the  ladies  and  their  gallants  to  walke  in,  and  many 
times  my  Lady  Isabella  Thynne  would  make  her  entreys  with  a 
theorbo  or  lute  played  before  her.  I  have  heard  her  play  on  it  in  the 
grove  myselfe,  which  she  did  rarely.  .  .  .  One  may  say  of  her  as 
Tacitus  said  of  Agrippina,  Cuncta  alia  illi  adfuere  praeter  animum 
honestum.  She  was  most  beautifull,  most  humble,  charitable,  &c.,  but 
she  could  not  subdue  one  thing."  Aubrey  adds  that  this  lady  and 
"fine  Mrs.  Fenshawe,  her  great  and  intimate  friend,"  were  wont  "to 
come  to  our  Chapell,  mornings,  halfe  dressed  like  angells."  The  late 
Mark  Pattison,  then  Rector  of  Lincoln,  writing  in  MacmtUan's  Magazine 
for  July  1875,  and  trusting  to  his  memory,  made  Lady  Castlemaine  the 
heroine  of  the  tale.  And  Steinman  {Memoir  of  Barbara,  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  Second  Addenda,  1878,  p.  4),  by  accepting  the  unidentified 
reference,  perpetuated  the  error. 

K 


130  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

the  Dutch,  had  to  renounce  for  the  present  his  scheme 
for  closer  union  with  England.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  an  open  rupture  between  England  and 
France.  The  Castlemaine-Molina  alliance  had  won 
the  day,  and  "  Mrs.  Stewart  "  had  proved  a  broken 
reed,  as  far  as  her  political  influence  over  the  King 
was  concerned.  No  doubt  the  representatives  of 
France  had  over-estimated  her  desire  to  take  a  hand 
in  the  game.  Clarendon,  who  has  a  high  opinion  of 
Frances  Stewart,  states  that  she  "  never  seemed  dis- 
posed to  interpose  in  the  least  degree  in  business  "  ; 
"  which  kind  of  nature  and  temper,"  he  adds,  "  the 
more  inflamed  the  King's  affection,  who  did  not  in  his 
nature  love  a  busy  woman,  and  had  an  aversion  from 
speaking  with  any  woman,  or  hearing  them  speak,  of 
any  business  but  to  that  purpose  he  thought  them 
all  made  for,  however  they  broke  in  afterwards  upon 
him  to  all  other  purposes." 

About  a  month  after  the  discomfiture  of  the  French 
Ambassadors,  in  which  she  had  played  her  part.  Lady 
Castlemaine  was  delivered  of  her  third  son  and  fifth 
child.  On  December  28th,  1665,  was  born  George, 
one  day  to  be  Duke  of  Northumberland.  Antony 
Wood  made  the  official  entry  in  the  register  of  the 
parish  of  St.  John  Baptist,  Oxford,  which  reads  as 
follows  : 


"  1665,  Dec.  28,  George  Palmer,  sonne  of  Roger, 
earl  of  Castlemaine,  was  born  in  Merton  College  ;  and 
was  baptized  there  the  first  of  January  following.  His 
mother's  name  was  Barbara,  daughter  of Villiers, 


POLITICS    AND    PLAGUE  131 

since  dutchesse  of  Cleveland.     Films  natiiralis  regis 
Caroli  11.^^ 

In  his  private  copy  of  the  register  he  speaks  of 
"  George  Palmer,  base  son  of  King  Charles  II."  And 
there  was  never  any  doubt  as  to  the  fatherhood  of  the 
child,  in  the  King's  mind  or  that  of  any  one  else. 
That  Oxford  was  scandalised  may  be  gathered  from 
Wood's  mention  of  a  "  libell  on  the  countess  of 
Castlemayne's  dore  in  Merton  College  "  one  day  in 
January.  He  gives  the  libel,  which  was  in  both  Latin 
and  English,  but  the  sample  of  scholastic  scorn  cannot 
be  quoted  here.  It  must  suffice  to  say  that  it  suggested 
that,  but  for  the  King  being  the  father,  the  mother 
would  have  been  ducked — which  seems  to  have  been 
the  contemporary  Oxford  method  of  dealing  with 
undesirable  ladies.  A  thousand  pounds  was  offered 
as  a  reward  for  the  discovery  of  the  libel's  author, 
without  effect.  But  Lady  Castlemaine  was  not 
ashamed,  and  we  shall  see  her  one  day  claiming 
proudly  that  this  son  of  hers  was  born  among  the 
scholars ! 


CHAPTER   VII 
THE   STRUGGLE   FOR  SUPREMACY 

''  I  ""HE  plague  in  London  having  decreased  very 
markedly,  and  war  with  France  having  been 
declared,  Charles  II  left  Oxford  on  January  27th,  1666, 
eighteen  days  after  Pierce,  lately  come  from  there, 
had  told  Pepys  that  "  all  the  town,  and  every  boy 
in  the  streete,  openly  cries, '  The  King  cannot  go  away 
till  my  Lady  Castlemaine  be  ready  to  come  along  with 
him.'  "  Whether  the  lady  left  with  him  we  do  not 
hear.  The  Queen  was  not  able  to  move  until  February 
1 6th,  having  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  disappoint  the 
hopes  of  the  King  which  had  been  fulfilled  in  the 
case  of  Lady  Castlemaine.  This  accident  is  said  to 
have  had  a  lasting  effect  on  her  husband's  mind. 
Clarendon  says  that  "  some  of  the  women  who  had 
more  credit  with  the  King  "  assured  him  that  there 
had  never  really  been  any  foundation  for  the  Queen's 
expectation,^  of  which  he  suffered  himself  to  be  con- 
vinced ;  and  that  "  from  that  time  he  took  little 
pleasure  in  her  conversation,  and  more  indulged 
to  himself  all  the  liberties  in  the  conversation  of 
those  who  used  their  skill  to  supply  him  with  divertise- 
ments  which  might  drive  all  that  was  serious  out  of 

^  As  a  matter  of  fact,  hopes  were  aroused  again  in  1668  and  1669, 
but  were  again  disappointed. 

132 


From  a  pliotograf'h  by  IV.  A.  Mnnsell  &^  Co.,  nftef  a  painting-  I'y 
Mrs.  Beale  in  the  National  Portrait  Callery 


CHARLES   THE   SECOND 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     133 

his  thoughts."  During  his  abode  at  Oxford,  though 
he  had  been  regular  in  his  morning  calls  upon  both 
Lady  Castlemaine  and  Frances  Stewart,  he  had  been 
observed  to  live  with  more  constraint  and  caution. 
Now  he  relaxed  the  effort  to  be  an  attentive  husband, 
and,  but  for  Clarendon's  own  continued  presence  at 
the  head  of  affairs,  it  seems  possible  that  in  the  bitterness 
of  his  disappointment  Charles  might  have  given  his 
consideration  at  once  to  the  scheme  that  was  actually  de- 
bated after  the  Chancellor's  fall  a  year  and  a  half  later. 
The  mistress  was  naturally  triumphant  over  the 
turn  which  affairs  had  taken,  and  abused  her  influence 
over  the  King  to  the  utmost,  especially  in  the  matter 
of  replenishing  her  purse.  "  Her  principal  business," 
says  Clarendon,  "  was  to  get  an  estate  for  herself  and 
her  children,  which  she  thought  the  King  at  least 
as  much  concerned  to  provide  as  she  to  solicit  ; 
which  however  she  would  not  be  wanting  in,  and 
so  procured  round  sums  of  money  out  of  the  privy 
purse  (where  she  had  placed  Mr.  May)  and  other 
assignations  in  other  names,  and  so  the  less  taken 
notice  of,  though  in  great  proportions  :  all  which 
yet  amounted  to  little  more  than  to  pay  her  debts, 
which  she  in  a  few  years  contracted  to  an  unimagin- 
able greatness,  and  to  defray  her  constant  expenses, 
which  were  very  excessive  in  coaches  and  horses, 
clothes  and  jewels,  without  anything  of  generosity, 
or  gratifying  any  of  her  family,  or  so  much  as  paying 
any  of  her  father's  debts,'   whereof  some  were  very 

^  She  did,  however,  erect  to  his  memory  the  marble  tomb  in  Christ 
Church  Cathedral. 


134  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

clamorous."  He  goes  on  to  say  that  she  procured 
for  herself  grants  of  land  in  Ireland,  because  these 
did  not  have  to  come  before  the  Chancellor  and 
Treasurer  of  England,  who  were  thus  powerless  to 
obstruct  the  grants  and  did  not  even  know  about 
them. 

We  shall  hear  more  later  about  these  grants  in 
Ireland,  and  considerably  more  about  the  money 
lavished  by  the  King  upon  her  whom  Burnet  so 
justifiably  calls  "  enormously  vicious  and  ravenous." 
For  the  present,  it  may  be  noticed  that  she  had  hardly 
returned  to  London  from  Oxford  when  she  bought 
from  Edward  Bakewell  or  Backwell,  alderman,  banker, 
and  goldsmith,  two  diamond  rings,  valued  at  ;^iioo 
and  ^900  respectively,  but  did  not  pay  for  them. 
The  Domestic  State  Papers  of  Charles  II  show  that 
this  same  year  another  jeweller,  John  Leroy,  was 
petitioning  the  King  for  "  payment  of  ;^357,  balance 
of  ^^850  due  for  a  ring  delivered  to  the  Countess  of 
Castlemaine,  which  she  said  was  for  His  Majesty." 
Whether  the  other  rings  were  for  her  own  adornment 
or  to  give  away  does  not  appear.  But  she  was  very 
fond  of  personal  jewelry. 

The  conduct  of  the  war  simultaneously  against 
Holland  and  France — it  is  true  that  the  French 
demonstrations  against  England  were  very  languid — 
had  little  effect  on  the  amusements  of  the  Court. 
Dining  with  Pierce  and  his  family  on  Easter  Day, 
Pepys  hears  all  about  "  the  amours  and  the  mad 
doings  that  are  there."  Even  after  the  murderous 
sea-fight  with  the  Dutch,  the  Battle  of  the  Downs, 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     135 

on  the  opening  days  of  June,  domestic  affairs  seem 
to  occupy  most  attention  at  Whitehall.  On  June  loth 
Pepys  has  another  of  his  Sunday  gossips  with  Pierce, 
and  learns  the  details  of  a  falling  out  between  the 
King  and  Lady  Castlemaine,  of  which  we  should 
otherwise  have  heard  nothing.  The  Queen,  says 
Pierce,  "  in  ordinary  talke  before  the  ladies  in  her 
drawing-room,  did  say  to  my  Lady  Castlemaine 
that  she  feared  the  King  did  take  cold  by  staying 
abroad  so  late  at  her  house.  She  answered  before 
them  all,  that  he  did  not  stay  so  late  abroad  with 
her,  for  he  went  betimes  thence  (though  he  did  not 
before  one,  two,  or  three  in  the  morning),  but  must 
stay  somewhere  else.  The  King  then  coming  in 
and  overhearing  did  whisper  in  the  eare  aside,  and 
told  her  she  was  a  bold  impertinent  woman,  and  bid 
her  begone  out  of  the  Court,  and  not  come  again 
till  he  sent  for  her  ;  which  she  did  presently,  and  went 
to  a  lodging  in  the  Pell  Mell,  and  kept  there  two  or 
three  days,  and  then  sent  to  the  King  to  know  whether 
she  might  send  for  her  things  away  out  of  her  house. 
The  King  sent  to  her,  she  must  first  come  and  view 
them  ;  and  so  she  came,  and  the  King  went  to  her, 
and  all  friends  again." 

While  her  anger  lasted,  however.  Lady  Castlemaine 
went  so  far  as  to  threaten  "  to  be  even  with  the  King 
and  print  his  letters  to  her."  Charles  could  scarcely 
afford  to  anticipate  the  terse  answer  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  to  a  similar  threat  and  tell  the  lady  to 
"  publish  and  be  damned,"  for  Lady  Castlemaine 
would  probably  have  taken  him  at  his  word.     So  he 


136  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

was  doubtless  wise,   if  not  dignified,   in  the   course 
which  he  adopted. 

A  very  odd  petition  among  the  Domestic  State 
Papers  of  1666  shows  how  much  the  conduct 
of  the  King  with  his  mistress  aroused  pubhc  concern 
at  this  time.  The  document  is  three  pages  long,  and 
concludes  by  stating  that  the  petitioner  "  is  but  a 
woman  and  can  only  pray  for  His  Majesty."  The 
most  interesting  statement  made  in  it  is  that  "  people 
say,  '  Give  the  King  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine, 
and  he  cares  not  what  the  nation  suffers.'  "  With 
what  feelings,  we  may  wonder,  did  Charles  read  this, 
if  it  ever  came  before  his  eyes  ? 

Some  casual  notices  of  Lady  Castlemaine  and 
Frances  Stewart  in  the  following  months  do  not 
convey  much  information.  But  one  entry  in  Pepys's 
Diary  is  worth  quotation  on  account  of  its  unusually 
critical  tone.  He  went  to  Whitehall  on  the  evening 
of  October  3rd.  "  And  there  among  the  ladies, 
and  saw  my  lady  Castlemaine  never  looked  so  ill, 
nor  Mrs.  Stewart  neither,  as  in  this  plain,  natural 
dress.  I  was  not  pleased  with  either  of  them."  "  Plain, 
natural  dress,"  was  seldom  worn  by  the  Caroline 
ladies,  and  doubtless  looked  strange  upon  them. 

On  October  21st  we  hear  from  the  same  source 
of  a  matter  of  more  interest.  Attached  to  the  Bed- 
chamber of  the  Duke  of  York  was  a  young  man  called 
Harry  Killigrew — the  same  whom  Henry  Savile, 
brother  of  the  future  Marquis  of  Halifax,  addresses 
in  a  letter  as  "  Noble  Henry,  sweet  namesake  of  mine, 
happy-humoured    Killigrew,    soul    of    mirth    and    all 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     137 

delight  !  "  while  Charles  II,  in  a  letter  to  his  sister  in 
1668,  calls  him  "  a  most  notorious  lyar."      Like  his 
father,   "  Tom  "    Killigrew,   who  held   the  curiously 
named  post  of   Master  of   the  Revels  to  Charles  II 
and  actually  had  a  fool's  dress  in  his  wardrobe,  Harry- 
aspired  to  all  the  verbal  licence  of  a  recognised  wit.^ 
On  this  occasion  he  ventured  to  comment,  in  language 
more  caustic  than  humorous,  on  Lady  Castlemaine's 
conduct  in  girlhood.     The  truth  was  not  palatable 
to  the  lady,  who  complained  to  the  King.     Charles 
asked   his   brother   to   dismiss   his   gentleman,    which 
the  Duke  did.     But  James  was  offended  that  Lady 
Castlemaine  had  not  come  to  him  first,  instead  of 
going  to  the  King  ;  and  so,  in  spite  of  an  effort  by 
the  lady,  calling  in  person,   to  conciliate  the  Duke, 
"  ill  blood  is  made  of  it."      Killigrew  was  forgiven 
after  a  time,  for  in  1669  he  was  Groom  of  the  Bed- 
chamber  to   Charles   himself.      Nine   years   later   he 
offended  another  mistress  in  a  drunken  freak,  calling 
at    Nell    Gwynn's    early    one    morning    to    tell    her, 
ostensibly    from    the    King,    that    her    hated    rival, 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  had  recovered  from  an 
illness  that  was  expected  to  kill  her.    He  was  banished 
again,    but    nevertheless     succeeded     his     father    as 
Master  of  the  Revels. 

It  was  naturally  annoying  to  the  former  Barbara 
VilHers  to  be  put  in  mind  of  her  first  period.    The  last 

^  Thomas  KlUigrew's  best  effort  was  when  he  appeared  before 
Charles  dressed  and  booted  as  if  for  a  journey.  Asked  by  the  King 
where  he  was  going  in  such  a  hurry,  he  replied  :  "  To  Hell,  to  fetch 
up  Oliver  Cromwell  to  look  after  the  affairs  of  England,  for  his 
successor  never  will !  " 


138  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

reminders,  except  for  the  name  which  accompanied 
it,  of  the  second  period  were  effaced  this  same  year. 
Lord  Castlemaine  had  been  in  England  at  the  be- 
ginning of  1666,  for  in  May  he  received  the  King's 
leave  to  go  abroad  again.  He  did  not  depart  at  once, 
or  else  he  paid  another  brief  visit  to  England ;  for 
on  December  12th  Pepys  hears  from  Sir  H.  Cholmly 
how  Lady  Castlemaine  and  her  husband  are  now 
"  parted  for  ever,  upon  good  terms,  never  to  trouble 
one  another  more." 

The  Great  Fire  which  made  this  year  so  memorable 
for  London,  as  it  was  prevented  from  reaching 
Whitehall,  did  not  affect  Lady  Castlemaine  personally  ; 
save  in  so  far  as  it  gave  an  impetus  to  the  bitter  and 
unjust  anti-Papist  agitation  which  involved  her  later, 
and  (we  may  perhaps  add)  because  it  induced  John 
Leroy,  jeweller,  to  send  in  a  more  pressing  request 
for  the  balance  of  the  money  due  to  him  on  the  ring 
purchased  for  His  Majesty.  But  she  doubtless 
watched  the  progress  of  the  conflagration,  while 
Charles,  to  his  credit — unlike  the  legendary  fiddling 
Nero — took  an  active  part  in  the  devising  of  schemes 
to  fight  the  fire,  and,  as  Evelyn  relates,  with  the  Duke 
of  York  "  even  laboured  in  person  and  was  present 
to  command,  order,  reward,  and  encourage  workmen, 
by  which  he  showed  his  affection  to  his  people  and 
gained  theirs."  The  same  loyal  observer,  it  must  be 
noticed,  speaking  of  the  general  fast  ordered  through- 
out the  nation  on  October  loth,  says  that  the  "  dismal 
judgments "  of  fire,  plague,  and  war  were  highly 
deserved   for   "  our   prodigious   ingratitude,   burning 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR   SUPREMACY     139 

lusts,  dissolute  Court,  profane  and  abominable 
lives." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  dissolute  Court  which 
Evelyn  laments  resumed  its  gaiety  and  licence  after 
the  temporary  quiet  caused  by  the  Fire.  Evelyn's 
indignation  against  the  Duke  of  York  for  the  way 
in  which  he  behaved  with  Lady  Denham  at  Court 
toward  the  end  of  September  is  recorded  by  his 
friend  Pepys  ;  and  the  graver  of  the  two  diarists 
himself  has  some  scathing  remarks  on  the  theatre 
when,  against  his  conscience  at  such  a  time,  he  attends 
a  performance  of  Lord  Broghill's  Mustapha  at  White- 
hall. He  sees  the  theatres  "  abused  to  an  atheisticall 
liberty "  and  "  fowle  and  undecent  women  now 
(and  never  till  now)  permitted  to  appeare  and  act, 
who  inflaming  severall  young  noblemen  and  gallants, 
became  their  misses,  and  to  some  their  wives."  He 
does  not  foresee,  however,  how  much  worse  things 
are  to  become,  and  how  the  "  misses  "  are  soon  to 
threaten  the  position  of  the  very  mistress  en  titre,  the 
Countess  of  Castlemaine,  and  defeat  her  by  virtue  of 
being  yet  more  brazen  than  she. 

Some  more  innocent  revels  at  Court  this  autumn  are 
described  by  Pepys  on  the  occasion  of  the  Queen's 
birthday,  November  15th.  The  scene  is  so  character- 
istic and  interesting  that  no  apology  is  needed  for 
transcribing  it  : 

"  I  also  to  the  ball,  and  with  much  ado  got  up  to 
the  loft,  where  with  much  trouble  I  could  see  very 
well.  Anon  the  house  grew  full,  and  the  candles 
light,   and   the   King  and   Queen   and  all  the  ladies 


140  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

set  :  and  it  was,  indeed,  a  glorious  sight  to  see  Mrs. 
Stewart  in  black  and  white  lace,  and  her  head  and 
shoulders  dressed  with  dyamonds,  and  the  like  a 
great  many  great  ladies  more,  only  the  Queen  none  ; 
and  the  King  in  his  rich  vest  of  some  rich  silke  and 
silver  trimmings,  as  the  Duke  of  York  and  all  the 
dancers  were,  some  of  cloth  of  silver,  and  others  of 
other  sorts,  exceeding  rich.  Presently  after  the  King 
was  come  in,  he  took  the  Queene,  and  about  fourteen 
more  couple  there  was,  and  begun  the  Bransles.  .  .  . 
After  the  Bransles,  then  to  a  Corant,  and  now  and 
then  a  French  dance ;  but  that  so  rare  that  the 
Corants  grew  tiresome,  that  I  wished  it  done.  Only 
Mrs.  Stewart  danced  mighty  finely,  and  many  French 
dances,  specially  one  the  King  called  the  New  Dance, 
which  was  very  pretty  ;  but  upon  the  whole  matter, 
the  business  of  the  dancing  of  itself  w-as  not  extra- 
ordinary pleasing.  But  the  clothes  and  sight  of  the 
persons  was  indeed  very  pleasing,  and  worth  my 
coming,  being  never  likely  to  see  more  gallantry 
while  I  live,  if  I  should  come  twenty  times.  .  .  .  My 
Lady  Castlemayne,  without  whom  all  is  nothing, 
being  there,  very  rich,  though  not  dancing." 

There  had  been  rumours  of  the  lady's  indisposition 
for  some  weeks  before  this,  so  that  her  not  taking 
an  active  part  in  the  ball  seems  to  have  occasioned  no 
surprise.  It  is  curious,  however,  that  in  a  letter  to 
Harley  a  month  later,  Denis  de  Repas  should  say  : 
"  Lady  Castlemainc  lives  as  retired  as  a  nun.  She  has 
not  been  seen  at  ball  or  play  since  the  fire."  Although 
the  eye-witness  Pcpys  must,  of  course,  be  correct, 
doubtless  Lady  Castlemaine  may  have  lived  in  unusual 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREA4ACY     141 

retirement  at  this  period.  Still  her  hold  over  the 
King  and  her  extortions  from  him  continued  un- 
diminished, of  which  a  signal  proof  was  given 
before  the  end  of  this  year.  According  to  what  Sir 
H.  Cholmly  told  Pepys  on  December  i6th,  Charles 
had  lately  paid  about  ^30,000  to  clear  her  debts. 
On  the  following  Sunday  the  diarist  himself  went  to 
Whitehall,  and  "  saw  my  dear  Lady  Castlemaine, 
who  continues  admirable,  methinks,  and  I  do  not 
hear  but  that  the  King  is  the  same  to  her  still  as 
ever."  But,  as  usual,  at  the  end  of  the  year  Pepys 
grows  moral  and  shakes  his  head  over  the  "  sad, 
vicious,  negligent  Court." 

If  1666  closed  with  no  alteration  in  the  situation 
of  affairs  in  Charles's  heart,  in  the  following  spring 
the  Court  was  suddenly  struck  as  though  a  thunder- 
bolt had  fallen  in  its  midst.  Frances  Stewart  at  the 
end  of  March  eloped  with  her  cousin  Charles,  Duke 
of  Richmond  and  Lennox,  kinsman  to  his  namesake 
the  King  as  well  as  to  herself.  The  Duke  had  lost 
his  second  wife  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  and  a 
fortnight  after  she  was  buried  proposed  for  the  hand 
of  Frances.  On  March  19th  they  were  betrothed, 
report  said,  and  the  next  thing  to  be  heard  was  that 
the  maid  of  honour  had  been  fetched  by  a  ruse  to 
the  Bear  Tavern  by  Southwark  Bridge,  got  into  a 
coach  with  her  cousin,  and  fled  with  him  to  Kent 
without  the  King's  leave. 

Gramont,  "  the  most  bare-faced  liar  in  the 
world,"  has  a  long  story  of  the  King's  discovery 
of   an   intrigue   between   Frances   and   the   Duke   of 


142  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Richmond,  led  to  it  by  Lady  Castlemaine  and  the 
infamous  William  Chiffinch,  keeper  of  Charles's 
backstairs,  and  dispenser  of  his  most  secret  funds ; 
with  circumstantial  details  of  the  resulting  quarrel 
between  the  King  and  the  maid.  But  the  un- 
supported word  of  Gramont  here  is  probably 
about  as  valuable  as  it  is  anywhere  else.  It  is  better 
to  rely  on  what  Burnet  says  about  Charles's  consent 
to  the  marriage,  "  pretending  to  take  care  of  her, 
that  he  would  have  good  settlements  made  for  her," 
as  "  he  hoped  by  that  means  to  have  broken  the 
matter  decently,  for  he  knew  the  Duke  of  Richmond's 
affairs  were  in  disorder."  This  at  least  is  reconcilable 
with  what  Pepys  hears  from  Sir  William  Penn  and 
Evelyn,  the  latter  of  whom  learns  "  from  a  Lord 
that  she  told  it  to  but  yesterday,  with  her  own  mouth, 
and  a  sober  man,  that  when  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
did  make  love  to  her,  she  did  ask  the  King,  and  he 
did  the  like  also  ;  and  that  the  King  did  not  deny  it." 

That  Charles  was  nevertheless  vexed  at  the  sudden 
elopement  is  quite  possible.  He  was  trying  to  make 
the  best  of  things  and  to  take  up  a  generous  attitude, 
but  the  runaway  marriage  snatched  the  matter  out 
of  his  hands,  and  he  took  what  was  a  long  time  for 
him  to  choke  down  his  feeling  of  resentment.  Part 
of  his  anger  against  Clarendon  was  supposed  to  be 
due  to  his  belief  that  the  Chancellor  was  implicated 
in  the  Richmond  match. 

One  person  who  could  not  fail  to  be  pleased  at 
what  had  happened  was  the  mistress.  "  Now  the 
Countess    Castlemaine    do    carry    all    before    her," 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     143 

Evelyn  told  Pepys.  Her  rejoicing  was  premature, 
it  is  true  ;  but  that  was  not  to  be  manifested  until 
some  time  had  passed.  For  the  present  matters 
seemed  to  be  going  very  well  for  her.  The  Richmond 
match  removed  her  great  rival  of  her  own  sex  from 
her  path.  On  May  i6th  death  took  away  an  object  of 
her  detestation  in  the  Lord  Treasurer  Southampton — 
an  event  which  Clarendon  declares  made  a  fatal 
breach  in  his  own  fortune,  "  with  a  gap  wide  enough 
to  let  in  all  the  ruin  which  soon  after  was  poured 
upon  him."  It  is  certain  that  the  disappearance  of 
one  of  the  only  two  great  ministers  who  refused  to 
pay  court  to  her  made  easier  the  gratification  of 
the  mistress's  spite  against  the  other,  whom  she  hated 
still  more. 

With  "  the  prevalence  of  the  lady,"  as  Clarendon 
calls  it,  naturally  increased  by  these  two  happenings 
of  early  1667,  frivolity  reigned  at  Court  unchecked 
by  domestic  sorrows  or  public  calamities.  On  May 
23rd  the  infant  Duke  of  Kendal,  younger  son  of  the 
Duke  of  York,  died,  while  his  elder  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Cambridge,  was  so  ill  that  he  was  expected 
to  go  first,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  only  survived  him 
by  a  month.  In  the  second  week  of  June  came  the 
famous  raid  of  the  Dutch  fleet  up  the  Thames  and 
Medway,  the  capture  of  the  Duke's  flagship.  The 
Royal  Charles,  and  the  destruction  of  several  other 
big  warships,  followed  by  a  great  panic  and  cries  of 
England's  betrayal  by  "  the  Papists  and  others  about 
the  King."  Charles,  going  out  one  day  to  feed  his 
ducks  in  St.  James's  Park  and  to  stroll  with  Prince 


144  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Rupert,  returned  to  find  the  whole  of  Whitehall 
in  an  uproar  and  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine  bewail- 
ing, above  all  others,  that  she  should  be  the  first 
torn  to  pieces.  Yet  "  the  Court  is  as  mad  as  ever," 
says  Sir  H.  Cholmly  to  Pepys  ;  "  and  that  night  the 
Dutch  burnt  our  ships  the  King  did  sup  with  my 
Lady  Castlemaine  at  the  Duchess  of  Monmouth's, 
and  they  were  all  mad  in  hunting  a  poor  moth  " — 
a  tale  which  makes  a  curious  contrast  with  Pepys's 
own  experience  on  the  backstairs  at  Whitehall  on 
June  13th,  where  he  heard  the  lacqueys  saying  that 
there  was  "  hardly  anybody  in  the  Court  but  do  look 
as  if  he  cried  "  ! 

Never,  perhaps,  was  the  inconsistent  character 
of  Charles  II  more  clearly  demonstrated  than  at 
this  period  of  his  life.  A  man  so  capable  of  rising 
to  an  occasion  as  he  had  proved  himself  to  be  had 
a  glorious  opportunity  now  of  showing  what  lay 
beneath  the  surface.  But  all  he  could  do  apparently 
was  to  furnish  his  subjects  with  material  for  indignant 
reflection.  The  moth-hunting  story  is  bad  enough. 
What  of  this  other,  which  Pepys  got  a  few  days  after 
from  Povy  ? 

"  He  tells  me,  speaking  of  the  horrid  effeminacy 
of  the  King,  that  the  King  hath  taken  ten  times 
more  care  and  pains  in  making  friends  between  my 
Lady  Castlemaine  and  Mrs.  Stewart,  when  they  have 
fallen  out,  than  ever  he  did  to  save  his  kingdom  ; 
nay,  that  upon  any  falling  out  between  my  Lady 
Castlemaine's  nurse  and  her  woman,  my  Lady  hath 
often  said  she  would  make  the  King  to  make  them 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     145 

friends,  and  they  would  be  friends  and  be  quiet  ; 
which  the  King  hath  been  fain  to  do  :  that  the  King 
is,  at  this  day,  every  night  in  Hyde  Park  with  the 
Duchesse  of  Monmouth,  or  with  my  Lady  Castle- 


maine." 


Truly  Burnet's  diagnosis  of  the  case  of  Charles 
and  Lady  Castlemaine  seems  correct,  that  "  his 
passion  for  her,  and  her  strange  behaviour  toward 
him,  did  so  disorder  him  that  often  he  was  not  master 
of  himself  nor  capable  of  minding  business."  ^ 

The  most  noticeable  evil  arising  from  this  condition 
of  the  King  was  the  enormous  demands  which  he 
made  upon  the  revenues  of  his  country  to  satisfy 
his  Privy  Purse,  which  by  the  influence  of  his  mistress 
had  been  entrusted  to  the  hands  of  Baptist  May, 
another  gentleman  of  the  same  stamp  as  William 
Chiffinch.  May  had  the  effrontery  to  tell  the  dis- 
contented Members  of  Parliament  that  ;£300  a 
year  was  enough  for  any  country  gentleman — "  which 
makes  them  mad,"  Pepys  hears,  "  and  they  do  talk 
of  6  or  8oo,ooo_^  gone  into  the  Privy  Purse  this 
war,  when  in  King  James's  time  it  arose  to  but  ;£5ooo, 
and  in  King  Charles's  but  ^10,000  in  a  year."  Pepys's 
informant  also  reports  that  "  a  goldsmith  in  town  told 
him  that,  being  with  some  plate  with  my  Lady 
Castlemaine  lately,  she  directed  her  woman  (the 
great  beauty),  '  Wilson,'  says  she,  '  make  a  note  for 

^  The  loyal  Sir  John  Reresby  makes  this  defence  of  his  master  in 
such  matters  :  "  If  love  prevailed  with  him  more  than  any  other 
passion,  he  had  this  for  excuse,  besides  that  his  complexion  was  of  an 
amorous  sort,  the  women  seemed  to  be  the  aggressors."  Lady  Castle- 
maine certainly  was  not  lacking  in  aggressive  spirit. 


146  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

this,  and  for  that,  to  the  Privy  Purse  for  money.'  " 
This  plate  is  doubtless  the  same  which  the  Domestic 
State  Papers  show  Charles  II  presenting  to  Lady 
Castlemaine  this  summer,  weighing  in  all  5600  ounces. 

The  King's  lavish  bounty  to  his  mistress,  on  the 
top  of  the  ^30,000  with  which  he  had  recently  paid 
off  her  debts,  did  not  prevent  a  most  violent  quarrel 
between  them  now.  It  seems  to  have  had  a  double 
cause.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  occasioned  by  Lady 
Castlemaine's  intervention  on  behalf  of  her  kinsman, 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  She  had  herself  been  on 
very  ill  terms  with  Buckingham  in  the  previous  year, 
and  the  Duke's  candid  comments  on  Court  life 
(of  which  he  was  one  of  the  leaders,  when  not,  as  he 
so  frequently  was,  in  disgrace)  aroused  Charles's 
anger  against  him.  He  got  himself  twice  committed 
to  the  Tower  in  1666  through  the  violence  of  his 
behaviour.  His  wit,  "  unrestrained  by  any  modesty 
or  religion,"  as  Clarendon  says,  and  his  social  talents 
reconciled  him  to  the  King,  but  he  was  soon  in 
trouble  again,  leading  the  opposition  in  Parliament, 
and  giving  reasons  for  suspicion  of  more  serious 
designs  against  the  King.  He  was  consequently 
stripped  of  all  his  offices,  and  once  more,  after  some 
delay,  committed  to  the  Tower. 

As  a  Villiers  herself,  Barbara  apparently  felt  called 
upon  to  come  to  his  rescue,  and  Charles,  though 
supposed  to  be  ready  enough  to  pardon  him,  was 
annoyed  at  this  interference.  In  early  July  there 
was  a  great  falling  out,  Charles  and  the  lady  parting 
"  with    very    foul    words."      He    called    her,    among 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     147 

other  things,  "  a  jade  that  meddled  with  things  she 
had  nothing  to  do  with  at  all  "  ;  while  she  said  he 
was  a  fool,  for  if  not  a  fool  he  would  not  suffer  his 
business  to  be  carried  on  by  fellows  that  did  not 
understand  them,  and  cause  his  best  subjects,  and 
those  best  able  to  serve  him,  to  be  imprisoned.  So 
irritated  was  His  Majesty  that  it  was  believed  he 
would  never  restore  the  Duke  to  office  again.  But 
in  a  few  days  came  the  news  of  Buckingham's  release 
from  the  Tower  without  a  trial,  which  Pepys  declares 
"  one  of  the  strangest  instances  of  the  fool's  play 
with  which  all  publick  things  are  done  in  this  age." 
His  restoration  to  his  various  offices  only  waited  for 
the  removal  of  Clarendon's  opposition,  which  was  not 
long  in  coming. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham's  pardon  was  attributed 
to  Lady  Castlemaine's  influence,  the  public  being 
unable  to  believe  that  the  King  would  remain  at 
variance  with  her  for  any  length  of  time.  But  there 
was  more  at  the  bottom  of  this  quarrel.  On  July 
27th  Pepys  learns  that  the  King  and  the  lady  "  are 
quite  broke  off,  and  she  is  gone  away,  and  is  with 
child,  and  swears  the  King  shall  own  it,  and  she  will 
have  it  christened  in  the  Chapel  at  Whitehall  so, 
and  owned  for  the  King's,  or  she  will  bring  it  into 
Whitehall  gallery  and  dash  the  brains  of  it  out  before 
the  King's  face."  Soon  after  he  has  additional 
details,  how  that  when  Charles  said  the  child  was  not 
his,  "  she  made  a  slighting  '  puh  '  with  her  mouth 
and  went  out  of  the  house,  and  never  come  in  again 
till  the  King  went  to  Sir  Daniel  Harvy's  to  pray  her." 


148  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

According  to  Dr.  Pierce,  Charles  was  forced  to  go 
upon  his  knees,  asking  her  forgiveness  and  promising 
to  offend  no  more,  before  she  would  make  it  up  with 
him  again,  even  to  the  extent  of  receiving  his  visits 
at  Harvey's  house. 

The  King,  it  was  said,  was  convinced  that  the 
expected  child,  of  which,  by  the  way,  we  hear  no 
more,  would  belong  to  Henry  Jermyn,  nephew  of 
the  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  and  one  of  the  villainous 
heroes  of  the  Gramont  Memoirs^  a  complete  courtier 
and  fearful  rake,  though  anything  but  a  handsome 
man.  Gramont  represents  Lady  Castlemaine  as 
infatuated  with  Jermyn,  and  the  scandal  of  Whitehall, 
which  had  for  some  time  connected  her  name  with 
his,  supports  Gramont  to  the  full.  "  The  King," 
comments  Pepys,  "  is  mad  at  her  entertaining  Jermyn, 
and  she  is  mad  at  Jermyn's  going  to  marry  away 
from  her  " — he  was  reputed  to  be  engaged  to  the 
widowed  Lady  Falmouth,  who,  from  her  portrait 
by  Lely,  had  one  of  the  most  charming  faces  of  her 
time — "  so  they  are  all  mad  ;  and  thus  the  kingdom 
is  governed." 

The  outward  appearance  of  tranquillity,  however, 
is  restored.  The  lady  still  remains  at  Harvey's 
house,  where  Charles  visits  her.  But  she  does  not 
avoid  Whitehall,  and  is  seen  walking  in  the  Privy 
Garden  on  "  Bab "  May's  arm,  immediately  after 
the  King.  She  gets  her  5600  ounces  of  plate,  she 
is  credited  with  having  a  maternal  uncle  of  hers, 
Dr.  Glemham — "  a  drunken,  swearing  rascal,  and  a 
scandal  to  the  church  " — made  a  Bishop,  and  generally 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     149 

"  hectors  the  King  to  whatever  she  will."  The 
courtiers  laugh  at  Charles's  VQiy  face  about  it.  When 
he  rallies  the  Duke  of  York  on  being  henpecked 
by  his  wife,  and  compares  him  with  Tom  Otter, 
Ben  Jonson's  type  of  such  a  husband,  the  elder 
Killigrew  asks  :  "  Sir,  pray  which  is  best  for  a 
man,  to  be  a  Tom  Otter  to  his  wife  or  his  mistress  ?  " 
The  King's  answer  is  not  recorded,  but  the  subject 
must  have  been  a  very  sore  one  to  this  slave  of  an 
imperious  beauty  who  denied  him  even  the  right 
of  decision  as  to  who  were  his  own  children. 

At  some  date  between  the  9th  and  the  26th  of 
August  the  mistress  returned  to  her  apartments 
over  the  Holbein  Gate,  thus  ratifying  her  peace  with 
the  King  very  soon  after  the  signing  of  the  Treaty 
of  Breda,  which  brought  peace  to  England,  France, 
and  Holland,  and  was  the  last  important  event  in 
Clarendon's  administration  of  Enghsh  affairs.  The 
Chancellor  had  opposed  the  summoning  of  Parliament 
before  the  Treaty  of  Breda  was  signed,  and  when 
after  the  signature  it  was  summoned  and  immediately 
prorogued  by  the  King,  a  violent  outcry  at  once 
arose,  not  against  Charles,  but  against  the  Minister 
who  was  accused  of  having  advised  this  sudden 
prorogation.  The  opportunity  had  come  for  all 
Clarendon's  enemies  to  band  together  to  destroy 
his  power  for  ever,  and  they  were  quick  to  seize 
upon  it. 

Lady  Castlemaine,  fresh  from  her  ovv^n  personal 
triumph  over  Charles,  figured  as  one  of  the  chief 
actors   in   a   very   celebrated   scene   at   Whitehall   on 


I50  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

August  26th,  1667.  ^^  about  ten  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  that  day  the  old  Chancellor  came  to 
Whitehall  for  a  conference  with  the  King,  who  had 
decided  to  get  rid  of  him,  and  had  indeed  already- 
sent  the  Duke  of  York  to  request  him  to  deliver  up 
the  Great  Seal.  This  the  Chancellor  would  not  do 
until  he  had  seen  his  master,  and  accordingly  an 
interview  was  arranged,  no  one  else  being  present 
but  the  Duke.  Charles  explained  his  reason  for 
requiring  the  Chancellor's  retirement  from  office, 
which  was  that  he  was  assured  of  Parliament's  resolve 
to  impeach  him  as  soon  as  they  met  again,  and  saw 
no  way  of  saving  him  except  by  dismissal.  Clarendon 
disputed  the  necessity  or  propriety  of  this,  and  in 
the  course  of  his  argument,  as  he  relates  himself, 
"  found  a  seasonable  opportunity  to  mention  the 
lady,  with  some  reflections  and  cautions  which  he 
might  more  advisedly  have  declined."  The  result 
was  that  "  after  two  hours'  discourse  the  King  rose 
without  saying  anything,  but  appeared  not  well 
pleased  with  all  that  had  been  said."  The  Duke  of 
York  (who  was,  of  course.  Clarendon's  son-in-law, 
and  who,  to  his  credit,  made  efforts  both  before  and 
after  this  interview  to  save  him)  discovered  that  it 
was  at  the  reference  to  the  lady  that  his  brother  was 
so  angered. 

The  King  having  gone,  there  was  nothing  for 
Clarendon  to  do  but  depart  also.  He  made  his  way 
homeward  through  the  Privy  Garden,  in  which 
there  were  many  watching  to  see  him.  He  describes 
very  briefly  what  occurred.     "  When  the  Chancellor 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    SUPREMACY     151 

returned,  the  lady,  the  Lord  Arhngton,  and  Mr. 
May  looked  together  out  of  her  open  window  with 
great  gaiety  and  triumph,  which  all  people  observed." 
The  invaluable  Dr.  Pierce  supplements  this  account 
in  one  of  his  gossips  with  Pepys.  When  the  Chancellor 
left,  he  says.  Lady  Castlemaine  was  in  bed,  though 
it  was  about  twelve  o'clock,  and  she  ran  out  in  her 
smock  into  her  aviary,  looking  into  Whitehall  Garden. 
Her  woman — Wilson  "  the  great  beauty,"  we  may 
presume — brought  her  her  nightgown,  or  what  we 
should  now  call  her  dressing-gown.  And  then  my 
Lady  "  stood  joying  herself  at  the  old  man's  going 
away  :  and  several  of  the  gallants  of  Whitehall, 
of  which  there  were  many  staying  to  see  the  Chancellor 
return,  did  talk  to  her  in  her  bird-cage  ;  among  others, 
Blancford,  telling  her  she  was  the  bird  of  paradise." 

Two  days  after  the  interview  Charles  sent  Sir 
William  Morrice,  Secretary  of  State,  to  receive  the 
Seal  from  the  Chancellor's  hands.  Morrice  brought 
it  back  to  the  King,  whereon  Baptist  May  came  in 
"  and  fell  on  his  knees  and  kissed  His  Majesty's 
hand,  telling  him  that  he  was  now  King,  which  he 
had  never  been  before."  Confirmed  by  his  favourite 
advisers  that  he  was  acting  rightly,  Charles  refused 
to  relent,  and  insisted  on  his  old  and  faithful  friend's 
withdrawal  from  England.  The  ex-Chancellor  left  oa 
December  3rd,  never  to  return. 

Clarendon  asserts  that  he  "  could  not  comprehend 
or  imagine  from  what  fountain,  except  the  power 
of  the  great  lady  with  the  conjunction  of  his  known 
enemies,  .  .  .  that  fierceness  of  the  King's  displeasure 


152  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

could  arise."  His  view  was  shared  by  most  other 
people,  for  example  by  Dr.  Pierce,  who  told  Pepys 
how  "  this  business  of  my  Lord  Chancellor's  was 
certainly  designed  in  my  Lady  Castlemaine's  cham- 
ber." Nor,  indeed,  could  the  Chancellor  complain 
that  he  had  been  without  warning  from  the  mistress 
of  his  impending  fate.  Shortly  before  his  fall  he  had 
stopped  a  grant  from  the  King  of  a  place  worth 
£2000  a  year  (nominally  to  Viscount  Grandison,  the 
lady's  uncle,  but  really  for  the  use  of  her  children), 
observing  scornfully  that  this  woman  would  soon 
sell  everything.  Lady  Castlemaine  at  once  sent  him 
a  message  that  "  she  had  disposed  of  this  place  and 
did  not  doubt,  in  a  little  time,  to  dispose  of  his." 

"  The  lady,"  against  whom  Clarendon  had  stood 
out  so  steadfastly  from  the  first,  had  taken  six  years 
to  accomplish  her  revenge ;  but  that  revenge  was 
complete  when  it  was  attained.  She  did  not,  it  is 
true,  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his  head  upon  a 
stake,  keeping  company  with  those  of  the  regicides 
on  Westminster  Hall,  as  she  is  said,  in  the  presence 
of  the  Queen,  to  have  expressed  a  wish  to  see  it. 
But  at  least  he  was  gone  an  exile  from  his  country 
at  the  age  of  fifty-eight,  after  having  borne  the  heat 
of  the  day  with  the  ungrateful  Charles  before  1660, 
and  guided  his  affairs  since  the  Restoration.  The 
"  old  dotard  "  could  thwart  her  no  more. 

Nor  had  she  to  pay  any  price  for  her  vengeance. 
There  was  no  public  demonstration  on  behalf  of 
the  victim.  Pepys,  going  to  Bartholomew  Fair  on 
August  30th,  finds  the  street  full  of  people  waiting 


THE    STRUGGLE    FOR   SUPREMACY     153 

to  see  Lady  Castlemaine  come  out  from  a  puppet- 
show.  "  I  confess  I  did  wonder  at  her  courage 
to  come  abroad,"  he  says,  "  thinking  the  people 
would  abuse  her ;  but  they,  silly  people  !  do  not 
know  her  work  she  makes,  and  therefore  suffered 
her  with  great  respect  to  take  coach,  and  she  away, 
without  any  trouble  at  all."  She  had,  indeed,  little 
reason  to  fear  unpopularity  over  the  latest  exhibition 
of  her  power.  Clarendon,  at  first  at  least,  was  almost 
without  friends  in  the  country,  having  to  bear  the 
odium  of  all  the  acts  during  his  holding  of  the  Great 
Seal,  whether  he  had  approved  them  or  not.  He 
brought  this  on  himself,  it  cannot  be  denied.  "  Old 
Clarendon  had  as  much  povi^er  as  ever  Premier  Minister 
had,"  says  a  letter  written  some  time  after  his  fall. 
His  manner  created  this  impression.  He  appeared 
unwilling  to  let  any  one  else  speak  at  the  Council- 
table — not  even  the  King,  according  to  Charles 
himself.  He  was  intolerant  of  opposition,  convinced 
of  his  own  correctness  of  judgment,  scornful  of 
intriguers,  and  an  honest  man,  who  had  bought 
himself  no  friends.  There  were  no  mourners,  there- 
fore, at  the  funeral  of  his  career. 

With  those  who  succeeded  to  the  power  which 
the  great  Chancellor  had  kept  in  his  hands  for  seven 
years  Lady  Castlemaine,  like  her  friend  Bab  May 
and  the  rest  of  "  that  wicked  crew,"  as  Pepys  calls 
them,  was  on  easy  terms.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham 
in  particular,  after  Clarendon's  removal  not  merely 
readmitted  to  the  Privy  Council,  but  the  greatest 
man  in  it,  was  more  friendly  disposed  to  his  cousin 


154  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

now  than  at  any  time  before  or  after.  A  common 
feeling  of  hatred  for  the  Chancellor  had  united  them, 
as  it  had  many  other  not  naturally  harmonious 
persons.  The  sentiment  was  at  least  strong  enough 
to  keep  them  together  until  all  fear  of  a  restoration 
of  the  old  regime  was  past. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  the  favourable  appearance  of  affairs 
after  the  disappearance  of  her  great  enemy,  all  was 
not  well  with  Lady  Castlemaine's  position  at  Court. 
At  the  very  beginning  of  September  1667  rumours 
were  afloat  to  the  effect  that  she  was  "  coming  to 
a  composition "  with  the  King,  to  take  a  pension 
and  retire  to  France.  Pepys  hears  about  it  from 
four  different  sources  in  ten  days,  though  one  of  his 
informants  is  incredulous  about  the  likelihood  of 
the  wished-for  event.  Lord  Brounker  says  that  her 
demands  are  mighty  high,  and  Sir  William  Batten 
speaks  of  a  pension  of  ^^4000  a  year.  Povy,  who  does 
not  think  the  composition  will  be  successful,  never- 
theless believes  that  ''  the  King  is  as  weary  of  her 
as  is  possible,  but  he  is  so  weak  in  his  passion  that  he 
dare  not  do  it." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  tales  repeated 
by  these  courtiers  were  not  far  from  the  truth.  The 
King  was  eager  to  placate  Parliament  after  it  had  been 
offended  so  grievously  by  his  sudden  prorogation  of 
it.  One  of  his  readiest  ways  of  pleasing  both  Houses 
would  be  to  rid  his  Court  of  some  of  the  women 
in  it,  especially  Castlemaine,  before  the  reassembly  in 
October.  Nor  can  Povy's  estimate  of  his  feelings 
toward  his  mistress  be  far  wrong.     She  had  no  longer 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY     155 

the  same  sensual  power  over  him  as  formerly.  Possibly 
his  passion  for  her  had  ceased  entirely  this  year.  The 
habit  of  her  ascendancy  over  him  remained  and  was 
destined  to  remain  almost  for  another  ten  years, 
to  the  great  cost  of  his  pocket  and  the  nation's. 
But  the  yoke  galled,  and  the  taunts  of  the  courtiers 
in  this  singularly  free-speaking  Court  were  constantly 
touching  him  on  the  raw.  In  his  efforts  to  break  away 
from  his  bondage  he  will  soon  be  seen  widening  the 
area  of  his  attentions,  and  lending  to  the  stage  a 
patronage  which  was  more  royal  than  reputable. 

It  is  possible  that  some  attempt  was  actually  made  to 
induce  Lady  Castlemaine  to  withdraw  herself  from 
Whitehall,  at  least  while  Parliament  began  its  sittings. 
It  is  known  from  the  Savile  Correspondence  that  on 
September  i6th  she  went  down  on  a  visit  to  Althorpe, 
the  family  seat  of  the  Earls  of  Sunderland.  Robert, 
the  second  Earl,  and  his  wife  Anne  (Digby)  were  both 
born  intriguers,  and  made  up  to  Lady  Castlemaine 
now  as  later  they  did  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth. 
The  visit  to  Althorpe  was  quite  short,  but  it  is  not 
until  nearly  the  end  of  the  year  1667  that  we  hear 
of  the  mistress  at  Court  again.  On  Christmas  Eve 
Pepys  is  led  by  his  happily  insatiable  curiosity  to 
the  Queen's  chapel,  where  he  "  got  in  up  almost 
to  the  rail,  and  with  a  great  deal  of  patience  staid 
from  nine  at  night  to  two  in  the  morning,  in  a  very 
great  crowd  ;  and  there  expected,  but  found  nothing 
extraordinary,  there  being  nothing  but  a  high  mass." 
Pepys's  comments  are  amusing,  as  usual.  The  music 
he   found    very   good   indeed,    but    the    service   very 


156  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

frivolous — "  there  can  be  no  zeal  go  along  with  it  " — 
though  all  things  very  rich  and  beautiful.  Finally, 
"  all  being  done,  and  I  sorry  for  my  coming,  missing 
of  what  I  expected  ;  which  was,  to  have  had  a  child 
born  and  dressed  there,  and  a  great  deal  to  do  : 
but  we  broke  up,  and  nothing  like  it  done  :  and 
there  I  left  people  receiving  the  Sacrament :  and  the 
Queen  gone  and  ladies  ;  only  my  Lady  Castlemaine, 
who  looked  pretty  in  her  night-clothes,  and  so  took 
my  coach  and  away  through  Covent  Garden,  to  set 
down  two  gentlemen  and  a  lady,  who  come  thither 
to  see  also  and  did  make  mighty  mirth  in  their  talk 
of  the  folly  of  this  religion." 

A  dozen  years  later  Pepys  was  in  serious  trouble 
for  his  supposed  Papist  sympathies  !  But  his  accusers 
had  not  the  privilege  of  reading  his  Diary. 


Fjoiii  a  photoiiraph  by  Emery  Walker,  after  a  copy  flf  a  picture  hy 
Sir  Peter  Lely  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery 

BARBARA  VILLIERS,  COUNTESS   OF  CASTLEMAINE 
AND   DUCHESS   OF   CLEVELAND 


CHAPTER   VIII 
THE    DECLINING   MISTRESS 

A  PERIOD  of  great  disorder,  as  Burnet  calls  it, 
was  now  opening  for  Lady  Castlemaine.  She  was 
still  at  Whitehall,  but  her  hold  over  the  King,  to  whom 
her  hectoring  was  so  wearisome,  was  no  longer  the 
same  in  nature  as  it  had  been  formerly.  Frances 
Stewart  was  in  London  again,  staying  at  Somerset 
House  with  her  husband,  and  the  King  had  already 
at  the  end  of  1667  made  overtures  to  her  to  return  to 
Court.  A  disfiguring  attack  of  smallpox  in  the  follow- 
ing spring  failed  to  make  the  Duchess  less  beautiful  in 
his  eyes  ;  indeed,  caused  him,  in  his  own  words,  to 
"  pardon  all  that  is  past."  The  Richmonds  were  for- 
given— seemingly  against  the  Duke's  own  wish,  and  with 
some  considerable  reluctance  on  the  part  of  the  lady — 
and  in  July  Frances  was  made  a  Lady  of  the  Bed- 
chamber to  the  Queen,  who  was  fond  of  her  and  had 
earlier  interceded  on  her  behalf.  In  token  of  his 
affection  for  the  wife  Charles  found  occasion  to  send 
the  husband  on  missions,  first  to  Scotland  and  then 
to  Denmark,  on  the  latter  of  which  he  died.  Frances 
was  left  a  widow  at  the  end  of  1672,  and  never  married 
again.  Her  reputation  suffered  considerably  after  her 
return   to  Court,   and   apparently  with  justification, 

157 


158  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

though  in  such  an  age  of  scandal  it  is  difficult  to  know 
how  much  to  beheve.  At  least,  however,  she  was  as 
modest  in  her  requisitions  from  the  Royal  purse  as 
Lady  Castlemaine  was  exorbitant,  and  when  she  died, 
at  the  age  of  fifty-four,  had  been  so  far  rehabilitated 
in  character  as  to  figure  at  the  coronation  of  Queen 
Anne. 

But  it  was  not  so  much  an  old  flame  of  the  King's 
that  caused  Lady  Castlemaine  annoyance  as  some  new 
flames,  discovered  in  quite  a  different  class  of  society 
from  that  of  the  Court.  According  to  Burnet,  it  was 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham  who  directed  his  master's 
attention  to  the  beauties  of  the  stage,  in  order  to 
punish  his  cousin  for  opposing  his  scheme  of  persuad- 
ing Charles  to  divorce  his  childless  wife  and  marry 
again.  That  there  was  actually  talk  of  putting  away 
Catherine  o£  Braganza,  after  the  fall  of  Clarendon, 
her  best  friend,  there  is  evidence.  She  was  to  retire 
to  a  nunnery  for  the  remainder  of  her  life,  a  divorce 
was  to  be  procured,  with  the  help  of  a  complaisant 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury — the  enemies  of  Gilbert 
Sheldon  declared  him  ready  to  oblige  the  King — and 
a  new  wife  was  to  be  found.  Whether  Charles  could 
have  ever  brought  himself  to  take  these  steps  is  very 
doubtful,  for  he  had  a  curious  kind  of  regard  for 
the  wife  he  so  gaily  and  grossly  wronged  ;  but  at  least 
he  allowed  himself  to  consider  the  scheme.  Lady 
Castlemaine,  however,  for  once  became  a  warm 
partisan  of  the  Queen  and,  when  she  discovered  who 
was  the  arch-plotter,  quarrelled  with  Buckingham, 
never  to  be  reconciled  again.     An  unofficial  rival  was 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  159 

bad  enough,  but  a  new  Queen — and  this  time  probably 
an  EngHshwoman — threatened  a  death-blow  to  her 
power. 

Therefore,  as  the  story  goes,  Buckingham  deter- 
mined to  undermine  the  influence  which  he  could  not 
sweep  away.  He  made  the  first  advance  with  the 
introduction  of  Mary  Davis,  once  a  milkmaid,  now 
an  actress.  Reputed  a  daughter  of  one  of  the  Howards, 
Earls  of  Berkshire,  near  whose  Wiltshire  house  she  was 
borne  by  a  blacksmith's  wife,  she  springs  into  noto- 
riety in  January  1668.  Previously  she  is  only  "  little 
Mis.  Davis  "  of  the  Duke's  Playhouse,  whom  Pepys 
describes  to  us  as  dancing  a  jig  in  boy's  clothes  and 
infinitely  outshining  as  a  dancer  Nell  Gwynn  of  the 
King's  House.  But  it  was  not  her  dancing  as  much 
as  her  singing  which  charmed  Charles's  heart.  Tra- 
ditionally it  was  her  rendering  of  a  ballad,  "  My  lodg- 
ing it  is  on  the  cold  ground,"  which  raised  her  to  a 
higher  sphere.  On  January  13th  there  was  an  amateur 
performance  of  The  Indian  Emferor  at  Court,  in  which 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Monmouth  and  others  took 
part.  The  players  of  the  Duke's  House  were  present, 
having  no  doubt  coached  the  amateurs  for  the  affair. 
Mrs.  Pierce,  who  sat  near  them,  describes  A4olI  Davis 
to  Pepys  and  his  wife  next  day  as  "  the  most  imper  • 
tinent  slut  in  the  world  ;  and  the  more  now  the  King 
do  show  her  countenance  ;  and  is  reckoned  his  mistress, 
even  to  the  scorne  of  the  whole  world  ;  the  King 
gazing  on  her,  and  my  Lady  Castlemaine  being  melan- 
choly and  out  of  humour,  all  the  play,  not  smiling 
once."    The  King,  it  is  said,  has  given  her  a  ring  worth 


i6o  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

^700,  which  she  shows  to  everybody,  and  has  furnished 
for  her  most  richly  a  house  in  Suffolk  Street ;  "  which 
is  a  most  infinite  shame,"  observes  Pepys.  The  Queen 
was  disgusted,  and  at  a  performance  in  the  Whitehall 
theatre  one  night  she  was  observed  to  take  her  de- 
parture when  Mrs.  Davis  came  on  to  dance  her  jig. 
For  the  mistress,  however,  it  was  more  serious  to  be 
out  of  request  than  for  Her  Majesty,  so  that  \'ve  are 
not  surprised  to  hear  from  Pepys  again  that  she  is 
"  mighty  melancholy  and  discontented  " — especially 
as  scandal  makes  Moll  Davis  not  the  only  new  rival,  but 
has  already  begun  to  hint  at  Nell  Gwynn  and  others. 

But  Lady  Castlemaine  did  not  content  herself  with 
being  "  mighty  melancholy  and  discontented  "  over 
the  King's  bestowal  of  his  affections  in  a  nevv^  quarter. 
She  promptly  paid  him  back  in  his  own  coin.  She 
was  a  well-known  patron  of  the  drama,  not  only  of 
playwrights,  but  of  performers  also.  She  had  been  a 
great  friend  even  to  Nell  Gwynn  for  a  time.  Among 
her  other  actress  acquaintances  was  Rebecca  Marshall, 
of  the  King's  House,  through  whom  she  obtained  an 
introduction  to  her  fellow-actor,  Charles  Hart,  great- 
nephew  of  Shakespeare,  and  reputed  to  have  been 
the  first  lover  of  Nell  Gwynn.  One  day  Pepys  is  told 
by  Mrs.  Knipp  of  the  King's — of  whom  Mrs.  Pepys 
was  very  legitimately  jealous — some  "  mighty  news, 
that  my  Lady  Castlemaine  is  mightily  in  love  with 
Hart  of  their  house,  and  he  is  much  with  her  in 
private,  and  she  goes  to  him  and  do  give  him  many 
presents  ;  .  .  .  .  and  by  this  means  she  is  even  with 
the  King's  love  to  Mrs.  Davis." 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  i6i 

Such  a  story,  interesting  no  doubt  to  other  members 
of  the  King's  House  company  as  well  as  the  lively 
Mrs.  Knipp,  must  soon  have  got  around  the  town.  It 
is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  among  the  "  libertine 
libels  "  that  Evelyn  says  were  printed  and  thrown 
about  now  was  a  bold  mock-petition  to  Lady  Castle- 
maine,  who  was  horribly  vexed  at  it,  according  to 
Pepys.  There  had  been  near  the  end  of  March  some 
riots  in  the  low  quarters  of  London,  in  the  course  of 
which  a  mob  of  holiday-making  apprentices  and  others 
pulled  down  a  number  or  houses  of  ill-repute.  Some 
jester,  who  naturally  took  good  precautions  to  keep  his 
identity  secret,  promptly  came  out  with  a  petition 
addressed  to  "  The  most  Splendid,  Illustrious,  and 
Eminent  Lady  of  Pleasure,  the  Countess  of  Castle- 
mayne."  This  was  indeed,  as  Pepys  remarks,  "  not  very 
witty,  but  devilish  severe  against  her  and  the  King." 
It  may  be  permissible,  however,  to  quote  a  reason- 
ably decent  part  of  the  document,  of  which  a  copy  is 
preserved  in  the  British  Museum  to-day.  The  victims 
of  the  late  riots  are  made  to  say  : 

..."  We  being  moved  by  the  imminent  danger 
now  impending,  and  the  great  sense  of  our  present 
suffering,  do  implore  your  Honour  to  improve  your 
Interest,  which  (all  know)  is  great.  That  some  speedy 
Relief  may  be  afforded  us,  to  prevent  Our  Utter  Ruine 
and  Undoing.  And  that  such  a  sure  course  may  be 
taken  with  the  Ringleaders  and  Abetters  of  these  evil- 
disposed  persons,  that  a  stop  may  be  put  unto  them 
before  they  come  to  Your  Honours  Pallace,  and  bring 
contempt  upon  your  worshipping  of  Venus,  the  great 


i62  MY   LADY    CASTLEATAINE 

Goddess  whom  we  all  adore.  .  .  .  And  we  shall  en- 
deavour, as  our  bounden  duty,  the  promoting  of  your 
Great  Name,  and  the  preservation  of  your  Honour, 
Safety,  and  Interest,  with  the  hazzard  of  our  Lives, 
Fortunes,  and  Honesty. 

"  And  your  Petitioners  shall  (as  by  custom  bound) 
Evermore  Play  &c. 

"  Signed  by  Us,  Madam  Cresswell  and  Damaris  Page, 
in  the  behalf  of  our  Sisters  and  Fellow- Sufferers  (in 
this  time  of  our  Calamity)  in  Dog  and  Bitch  Yard, 
Lukeners  Lane,  Saffron  Hill,  Moor-fields,  Chiswell- 
street,  Rosemary-Lane,  Nightingale-Lane,  Ratcliffe- 
High-way,  Well-close,  Church-Lane,  East-Smith- 
field,  &c.,  this  present  25th  day  of  March,  1668." 

A  month  later  there  was  a  pretended  reply  published 
called  "  The  Gracious  Answer  of  the  most  Illustrious 
Lady  of  Pleasure  the  Countess  of  Castlem  .  .  ."  and 
dated  "  Given  at  our  Closset  in  King  Street, 
Westminster,^  die  Veneris  April  24  1668."  As 
an  indication  of  the  state  of  the  public  mind  toward 
the  royal  mistress  at  this  period,  some  of  this  is  of 
interest. 

"  Right  Trusty  and  Well-beloved  Madam  Cresswell 
and  Damaris  Page,  with  the  rest  of  the  suffering  Sister- 
hood," it  begins,  "...  We  greet  you  well,  in  giving 
you  to  understand  our  Noble  Mind,  by  returning  our 
Thanks,  which  you  are  worthy  of  in  rendring  us 
our  Titles  of  Honour,  which  are  but  our  Due.   For  on 

^  Which  might  be  taken  to  show  that  the  lady  was  residing  in  her 
husband's  house  again  ;  but  "  the  Street "  which  ran  through  White- 
hall Palace  and  over  which  the  Countess  lived  in  her  gatehouse  was 
practically  a  continuation  of  King  Street. 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  163 

Shrove-Tuesday  last,  Splendidly  did  we  appear  upon 
the  Theatre  at  W.  H.  being  to  amazement  wonderfully 
deck'd  with  Jewels  and  Diamonds,  which  the  (abhorr'd 
and  to  be  undone)  Subjects  of  the  Kingdom  have 
payed  for.  We  have  been  also  Serene  and  Illustrious 
ever  since  the  Day  that  Mars  was  so  instrumental  to 
restore  our  Goddess  Venus  to  her  Temple  and  Worship; 
where,  by  special  grant  we  quickly  became  a  famous 
Lady  :  And  as  a  Reward  of  our  Devotions  soon  created 
Right  Honourable,  the  Countess  of  Castlemain.'''' 

Lady  Castlemaine  is  made  to  go  on  to  explain  that 
she  has  become  a  convert  to  the  Church  of  Rome — 
rather  a  belated  announcement  ! — where  worthy 
fathers  and  confessors  declare  that  certain  things 
"  are  not  such  heynous  Crimes  and  crying  Sins,  but 
rather  they  do  mortilie  the  Flesh."  She  is  made  to 
allude  to  the  story  of  the  Fire  of  1666  being  due  to 
"  the  Good  Roman  Catholicks  "  and  to  threaten  : 
"  But  for  our  Adversaries  with  the  Rebellious  Citizens, 
Let  them  look  to  it  when  the  French  are  ready  (who 
as  yet  drop  in  by  small  parties,  and  lie  incognito  with 
the  rest  of  the  Catholicks)  we  shall  deal  with  them,  as 
we  did  with  their  Brethren  in  Ireland." 

A  certain  skill  in  the  drawing  up  of  this  precious 
"  Answer  "  and  its  language  and  allusions  suggest  that 
it  was  composed  by  some  one  in  Court  circles.  Courtiers 
were  fond  of  gratifying  their  malice  in  writing  such 
libels,  though  most  often  in  verse.  No  one,  however, 
came  forward  later  to  father  either  the  "  Petition  " 
or  the  "  Answer,"  so  that  the  authorship  of  both  must 
remain  a  mystery. 


i64  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

It  is  curious  that  the  "  splendid  appearance  "  of  the 
lady  at  the  Theatre  at  W(hite)  H(all)  on  Shrove  Tues- 
day is  attested  by  Evelyn,  though  his  language  is  less 
complimentary  than  that  of  the  libel.  The  entry  in  his 
Diary  for  February  4th,  1668,  is  as  follows  : — 

"  I  saw  the  tragedy  of  '  Horace '  (written  by  the 
virtuous  Mrs.  Phillips)  acted  before  their  Majesties. 
'Twixt  each  act  a  masq  and  antiq  daunce.  The 
excessive  gallantries  of  the  ladies  was  infinite,  those 
especially  on  that  .  .  .  Castlemaine  esteem'd  at 
^40,000  and  more,  far  outshining  the  Queene." 

Of  Lady  Castlemaine's  large  expenditure  on  jewelry 
we  have  heard  before.  She  may  have  been  particularly 
reckless  nov/,  in  the  "  disorder  "  to  which  Burnet  sees 
her  driven  by  the  loss  of  the  King.  She  was  also 
gambling  heavily  at  this  time,  risking  ;£iooo  and  £1500 
on  a  single  cast,  winning  _£i 5,000  one  night  and  losing 
^25,000  another.  And  then  there  were  her  presents  to 
Hart.  We  do  not  know  their  extent,  but  she  was  wont 
to  be  very  generous  to  her  later  favourites,  and  doubt- 
less was  so  to  Hart  now. 

A  handsome  gift  from  the  King  this  spring  scarcely 
lessened  her  debts ;  or,  more  probably,  added  to  her 
expenses.  He  gave  her  a  house,  which  she  proceeded 
to  furnish  herself.  Coupled  as  it  was  with  his  renewed 
attentions  to  Frances,  Duchess  of  Richmond,  and  his 
infatuation  with  Moll  Davis,  Charles's  removal  of  his 
titular  mistress  out  of  his  own  immediate  neighbour- 
hood had  something  ominous  about  it.  But  the  house 
was  undeniably  a  fine  one  and  cost  him,  it  appears, 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  165 

^5000,  which  was  the  sum  that  passed  the  Privy 
Seal  for  it.  It  was  Berkshire  House,  standing  in  ex- 
tensive grounds  (which  included  the  present  Green 
Park)  to  the  north-west  of  St.  James's  Park,  on  the 
further  side  of  the  Palace.  Formerly  the  London 
residence  of  the  first  two  Earls  of  Berkshire,  it  had 
been  recently  occupied  by  the  Lord  Chancellor 
Clarendon.  It  was  strange  that  the  next  owner  should 
be  the  lady  for  whom  the  grant  for  ;^5000  could 
scarcely  have  been  even  suggested  in  the  imperious 
old  Chancellor's  time. 

With  her  departure  from  Whitehall  Lady  Castle- 
maine  takes  a  less  prominent  place  in  the  public  eye  ; 
that  is,  if  we  can  judge  by  the  eye  of  Samuel  Pepys. 
He  only  records  one  vision  of  her  between  December 
1667  and  December  1668.  This  is  on  May  5th  at 
the  Duke  of  York's  Playhouse,  where  Shadwell's 
The  Imfertinents  is  being  performed.  Pepys  sits  in 
the  balcony-box — "  where  we  find  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine  and  several  great  ladies " — close  to  "  her 
fine  woman  Wilson,"  with  whom  he  gets  into  con- 
versation, no  doubt  to  his  great  satisfaction.  He 
is,  indeed,  in  as  close  touch  with  the  admired  one 
as  at  any  time  in  his  Ufe.  What  he  finds  to  remark 
on,  however,  is  rather  unromantic  :  "  One  thing 
of  familiarity  I  observed  in  my  Lady  Castlemaine  : 
she  called  to  one  of  her  women,  another  that  sat 
by  this  [Wilson],  for  a  little  patch  off  her  face,  and 
put  it  into  her  mouth  and  wetted  it,  and  so  clapped 
it  upon  her  own  by  the  side  of  her  mouth,  I  suppose 
she  feeling  a  pimple  rising  there  !  " 


1 66  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

Not  until  December  21st  in  the  same  year  is  the 
lady  seen  again.  On  that  day  Pepys  is  once  more  at 
the  Duke's  and  witnesses  a  performance  of  Macbeth. 
"  The  King  and  Court  there  ;  and  we  sat  just  under 
them  and  my  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  close  to  the 
woman  that  comes  into  the  pit,  a  kind  of  loose  gossip 
that  pretends  to  be  like  her,  and  is  so,  something.  .  .  . 
The  King  and  Duke  minded  me,  and  smiled  upon  me, 
at  the  handsome  woman  near  me  :  but  it  vexed  me 
to  see  Moll  Davis,  in  the  box  over  the  King's  and 
my  Lady  Castlemaine's  head,  look  down  upon  the 
King,  and  he  up  to  her  ;  and  so  did  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine once,  to  see  who  it  was ;  but  when  she  saw  her, 
she  looked  like  fire  ;   which  troubled  me." 

The  theatre  occupied  a  good  deal  of  the  Court's 
attention  at  this  period,  apart  from  its  connection  with 
the  King's  amours.  In  the  middle  of  January  there 
was  a  great  disturbance  at  Whitehall  Palace,  "  even 
to  the  sober  engaging  of  great  persons,"  according  to 
the  Diary,  "  and  making  the  King  cheap  and  ridicu- 
lous." A  certain  actress,  Mrs.  Corey,  playing  the 
part  of  Sempronia  in  Catiline^s  Conspiracy,  took 
it  on  herself  to  imitate  Lady  Harvey,  wife  of  Lady 
Castlemaine's  host  in  the  summer  of  1667.^  This 
Lady  Harvey  was  by  birth  Anne  Montagu,  sister  of 
Ralph  (of  whom  we  shall  soon  hear  much)  and  cousin 
of  the  two  Edward  Montagus,  Lord  Sandwich   and 

1  It  would  appear  that  there  was  some  sort  of  connection  between 
the  Harveys  and  the  Castlemaines,  for  the  Earl  of  Castlemaine  in  1668 
accompanied  Sir  Daniel  Harvey  on  the  mission  to  the  Porte  mentioned 
below. 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  167 

the  Earl  of  Manchester,  The  Earl  of  Manchester 
was  Lord  Chamberlain,  and  to  him  Anne  naturally- 
appealed  in  her  indignation.  The  Lord  Chamberlain 
promptly  put  the  offending  actress  in  prison  ;  where- 
upon Lady  Castlemaine,  for  some  reason  at  enmity 
with  her  former  hostess,  insisted  on  the  King  ordering 
Mrs.  Corey's  release  and  performance  of  the  part  of 
Sempronia  before  his  own  eyes.  Lady  Harvey,  in 
her  turn,  provided  people  to  hiss  and  to  fling  oranges 
at  the  actress.  The  Court  was  divided  in  its  sympathies, 
taking  the  affair  very  seriously  ;  but  unfortunately 
we  hear  no  more  about  it. 

The  mistress's  successful  intervention  in  this  matter 
shows  her  still  able  to  rule  the  King,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  politically  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  all 
in  all  and  that  she  and  he  were  now  mortal  enemies. 
In  her  hatred  for  her  cousin  she  drew  closer  to  the 
chief  opponents  of  the  Buckingham  interest  at  Court, 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York,  who,  it  should  be 
noted,  were  her  closest  neighbours  in  St.  James's 
Park.  Buckingham,  having  failed  in  his  scheme  for 
the  divorce  of  Catherine  of  Braganza  and  a  remarriage 
of  the  King,  was  eager  for  Charles  to  legitimise  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  and  make  him  the  heir  to  the 
throne,  so  cutting  out  the  Duke  of  York  from  the 
succession.  Thus,  though  the  mistress  had  con- 
tributed so  much  to  the  ruin  of  Clarendon,  the 
Duchess's  own  father,  the  Yorks  were  induced  to 
enter  into  an  alliance  with  her  as  their  best  resource 
at  need. 

How  powerful  an  ally  she  was  is  abundantly  plain. 


i68  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

Povy  sums  the  situation  up  admirably  for  Pepys  on 
January  i6th,  1669  :  "  My  Lady  Castlemaine  is  now 
in  a  higher  command  over  the  King  than  ever — not  as  a 
mistress,  for  she  scorns  him,  but  as  a  tyrant  to  com- 
mand him."  All  in  vain  had  Charles  sent  the  lady  to 
Berkshire  House.  Her  iron  grip  was  on  him  still, 
however  much  he  might  try  to  disguise  the  fact  from 
himself.  For  he  did  try.  We  read  in  a  letter  written 
to  Louis  XIV  by  Colbert,  his  new  Ambassador  at 
Whitehall,  on  January  14th,  that  it  is  inadvisable  to 
lavish  handsome  gifts  upon  Madame  Castlemaine  ^  to 
buy  her  support  for  France,  since  then  "  His  Majesty 
may  think  that,  despite  his  assertions  to  the  contrary, 
we  fancy  that  she  rules  him,  and  may  take  it  ill."  Tom 
Otter  was  sensitive  ! 

Pepys  had  the  good  luck  to  be  eye-witness  on  one 
occasion  of  the  close  relations  of  Lady  Castlemaine 
and  the  Yorks  this  spring.  He  and  Sir  Jeremiah 
Smith  went  on  March  4th  to  Deptford,  where  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  were  on  a  visit  to  the  Treasurer's 
house.  Here,  after  a  dinner  by  invitation  with  the 
Duchess's  maids  of  honour  ("  which  did  me  good  to 
have  the  honour  to  dine  with  and  look  on  "),  they  go 
upstairs  and  "  find  the  Duke  of  York  and  Duchess, 

1  We  hear,  however,  of  one  handsome  gift.  On  May  3rd,  1669, 
Ralph  Montagu  writes  from  Paris  to  Lord  Arlington:  "1  went  to 
Martiall's  to  look  for  gloves,  and  I  saw  a  present  which  I  am  sure  must 
cost  a  thousand  pounds  packing  up.  I  found  since  that  it  is  for  my 
Lady  Castlemaine,  which  you  will  quickly  knov/  there.  I  asked  him 
who  it  was  for,  but  he  could  not  or  would  not  tell  me.  I  asked  him 
who  paid  him  ;  he  told  m.e,  the  King  of  France,  and  that  he  had  an 
order  from  Mr.  Colbert  for  his  money,  to  whom  he  is  to  give  the 
things." 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  169 

with  all  the  great  ladies,  sitting  upon  a  carpet,  on  the 
ground,  there  being  no  chairs,  playing  at  '  I  love  my 
love  with  an  A,  because  he  is  so  and  so  ;  and  I  hate 
him  with  an  A,  because  he  is  this  and  that '  ;  and  some 
of  them,  but  particularly  the  Duchess  herself,  and  my 
Lady  Castlemaine,  were  very  witty." 

We  could  wish  that  Pepys  had  thought  fit  to  set 
down  some  examples  of  the  wit.  But  unfortunately 
he  did  not.  And,  more  unfortunately  still,  the  never- 
equalled  Diary  comes  to  an  end  three  months  later, 
to  the  incalculable  injury  of  posterity.  In  the  case  of 
Lady  Castlemaine,  its  cessation  means  the  loss  of 
those  hundred  little  intimate  details  which  bring  the 
person  described  vividly  before  us.  Only  once  more 
before  he  ceases  to  delight  us  does  Pepys  mention  the 
great  lady  in  whom  he  is  so  interested.  On  April  28th 
Sir  H.  Cholmly,  calling  upon  him  about  some  Navy 
Office  accounts,  proceeds  to  other  talk  and  tells  him 
of  his  proposals  for  a  league  with  France  in  return  for 
a  sum  of  money,  which  have  been  supported  by  such 
various  people  as  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York,  the 
Queen-Mother,  and  Lord  Arlington,  though  he  is  of 
the  Buckingham  faction.  And,  also,  "  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine is  instrumental  in  this  matter,  and,  he  says, 
never  more  great  with  the  King  than  she  is  now." 

The  Diary  takes  leave  of  the  royal  mistress  with 
her  political  power  vigorous  and  using  it  (no  doubt 
for  a  sufficient  consideration,  even  if  diplomacy  made 
the  givers  discreet)  on  behalf  of  the  country  whose 
ambassadors  she  had,  five  years  previously,  succeeded 
in  thwarting.    At  this  moment,  before  the  appearance 


1 70  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

on  the  scene  of  the  lady  who  ousted  her  from  her 
position   of   mistress   en   titre,   we   may   conveniently 
pause  to  consider  the  condition  of  her  affairs  in  general. 
Thanks  to  the  King's  generosity,  combined  with  his 
desire  to  keep  her  at  a  safer  distance  than  when  she  was 
in  apartments  next  his  own  at  Whitehall,  the  Countess, 
having  reached  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  was  residing 
at  Berkshire  House,  standing  in  its  own  grounds,  with 
no  nearer  neighbours  than  St.  James's  Palace.     Her 
three  youngest  children,  Henry,  Charlotte,  and  George, 
were  possibly  living  with  her.     The  two  eldest,  Anne 
and  Charles,  aged  eight  and  seven  respectively,  are 
known   to  have   been   in   Paris   now,   receiving   such 
education  as  was  thought  fit  for  them.     The  unfor- 
tunate Lord  Castlemaine  was  still  out  of  the  country. 
After  his  final  separation  from  his  wife  in  December 
1666 — "  never    to    trouble    one    another    more  " — he 
had  gone  abroad,  to  remain  there  for  eleven  years 
without  a  visit  to  England,  as  far  as  is  known.    In  1668 
he  was  a  member  of  the  mission  sent  by  Charles  to 
Turkey,  and  he  continued  to  travel  for  his  own  plea- 
sure until  1677. 

To  maintain  the  mistress  in  the  independent  position 
in  which  he  had  placed  her  Charles,  about  this  time, 
bestowed  upon  her  a  regular  income.  We  have  seen 
that  as  early  as  the  beginning  of  September  1667 
there  had  been  rumours  of  an  intended  pension, 
possibly  £^000  a  year,  to  be  paid  on  condition  that 
she  withdrew  to  France.  She  had  not  withdrawn  to 
France,  though  the  expectation  of  her  doing  so  was 
occasionally  revived.    She  obtained  her  pension,  how- 


THE    DECLINING    MISTRESS  171 

ever,  without  such  a  sacrifice.  A  grant  was  made  out 
of  the  revenues  of  the  Post  Office  of  a  sum  of  ;^4700 
a  year.  In  accordance  with  former  precedents,  to 
make  the  transaction  less  notorious,  the  grant  was  not 
in  the  lady's  own  name,  but  in  those  of  her  uncles  Vis- 
count Grandison  and  Edward  Villiers. 

Such  a  sum,  indeed,  was  inadequate  to  meet  her 
extravagant  expenditure,  which  is  no  doubt  the  reason 
why  she  is  found  soon  after  to  have  sold  Berkshire 
House,  keeping  only  part  of  the  grounds  on  which 
to  erect  a  new  mansion.  But  at  least  it  enabled 
her  to  gratify  some  of  her  desires,  such  as  the  bestowal 
of  presents  upon  favourites.  The  disorder  of  her  life 
was  increasing.  Acting  upon  her  determination  to  be 
even  with  the  King,  she  had  descended  from  Charles 
Hart  the  actor  to  Jacob  Hall  the  rope-dancer,  whom 
Pepys  sees  at  Bartholomew  and  Southwark  Fairs  in 
the  autumn  of  1668  and  finds  "  a  mighty  strong  man." 
Granger,  writing  a  century  later  and  therefore  not 
from  personal  acquaintance,  says  that  "  there  was  a 
symmetry  and  elegance,  as  well  as  strength  and  agility, 
in  the  person  of  Jacob  Hall,  which  was  much  admired 
by  the  ladies,  who  regarded  him  as  a  due  composition 
of  Hercules  and  Apollo."  Gramont,  as  might  be 
expected,  has  something  to  say  on  the  subject,  the 
gist  of  which  is  that  Lady  Castlemaine's  fancy  was 
notorious,  "  but  she  despised  all  rumours  and  only 
appeared  still  more  handsome."  She  went  so  far  as 
to  pay  the  rope-dancer  a  salary,  according  to  Granger. 
She  certainly  had  her  portrait  painted  with  him,  for 
the  picture  is  still  in  existence.    "  You  know  as  to  love 


172  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

one  is  not  mistriss  of  one's  self,"  she  wrote  to  Charles 
eight  years  later.  She  proved  this  amply  in  her  own 
case,  it  cannot  be  denied. 

It  would  seem  that  the  scandal  did  not  fail  to  pro- 
duce the  effect  which  the  lady  desired.  The  King 
appreciated  the  indignity  of  his  mistress  entering  into 
a  contest  with  him  in  which  the  weapons  were  the 
degradation  of  the  combatants.  But,  characteristically, 
beyond  a  sarcastic  comment,^  his  only  punishment  for 
Lady   Castlemaine's    offence  was    to  bestow   a    new 

honour  upon  her. 

1  Seep.  1 88. 


CHAPTER   IX 
SUPPLANTED 

'pARLY  in  1670  Louis  XIV  achieved  his  desire  of 
binding  England  to  France  in  close  political  union. 
Negotiations  had  been  proceeding  for  a  long  time,  for- 
warded, as  we  have  seen,  by  a  variety  of  persons  in 
this  country,  including  the  royal  mistress  to  a  certain 
extent.  To  hasten  their  conclusion  Louis  sent  to 
England  Charles's  sister,  the  Duchess  of  Orleans, 
whom  Charles  had  often  declared  to  be  the  only 
woman  who  had  any  hold  upon  him.  This  Louis  did 
much  against  the  wishes  of  his  brother  Orleans,  who 
was  apparently  afraid  that  his  wife  was  too  well  in- 
clined to  the  young  and  handsome  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth, her  nephew,  and  asked  Charles  to  send  him 
on  a  visit  to  Holland  during  her  stay  in  England. 
The  story  of  the  Orleans  mission  has  much  tragedy 
in  it,  and  a  little  comedy.  On  May  i6th  Hen- 
rietta landed  at  Dover,  bringing  in  her  train  as 
maid  of  honour  a  young  lady  of  twenty-one  years  of 
age  called  Louise  Renee  de  Keroualle,  who  at  once 
attracted  the  ever  roving  eyes  of  Charles.  Un- 
consciously perhaps  at  first,  France  had  discovered  the 
means  of  securing  the  English  King's  affections,  as 
well  as  interests,  on  her  side.     Instead  of  buying  the 

173 


174  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

English  mistress,  which  would  be  a  difficult  and  expen- 
sive matter,  she  sold  him  a  French  one.  Charles's  passion 
for  Barbara  Palmer  was  doubtless  dead  and  buried 
before  Louise  de  Keroualle  set  foot  in  England  ;  but 
the  latter's  appearance  shortened  the  remaining  empire 
over  the  King  of  her  who  had  ruled  him  so  long.  It 
was  impossible  to  keep  two  such  harpies  simultaneously 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  Privy  Purse, 
though  not  impossible  (as  it  was  unfortunately  dis- 
covered) to  have  one  of  them,  as  it  were,  installed  on 
the  table  in  the  Palace  and  the  other  hovering  outside 
at  no  great  distance,  ready  to  swoop  in  and  carry  off 
the  side-dishes. 

Louise  de  Keroualle  did  not  immediately  step  into 
her  disreputable  position.  In  June  the  Duchess  of 
Orleans  returned  to  France,  after  a  secret  treaty  had 
been  signed  at  Dover  on  the  1st,  by  which  Charles 
bound  England  to  engage  with  France  in  war  against 
Holland,  in  return  for  a  subsidy  of  three  million  francs 
a  year,  with  an  extra  two  million  for  declaring  him- 
self a  Roman  Catholic.  With  the  Duchess  returned 
her  maid  of  honour,  but  not  before  Charles  had 
gallantly  intimated  how  much  he  would  like  to  keep 
her  at  the  English  Court.  On  June  29th  the  Duchess, 
after  having  been  welcomed  back  most  graciously  by 
Louis  and  his  Queen,  but  very  sourly  by  her  husband, 
died  so  suddenly  that  there  were  at  first  suspicions  of 
foul  play,  and  the  relations  between  the  English  and 
French  Courts  became  rather  cool.  To  remedy  this, 
somebody,  perhaps  Colbert,  one  of  the  astutest  of 
ambassadors,   suggested    that   the  charming   maid   of 


,!■  ^ 


/•■- 


■vlVii  a  mezzotint  engnu'ing  a/tcf  //.t  /\unt:ii^  by  Sir  Peter  Lcly 


BARBARA   VILLIERS,   COUNTESS   OF   CASTLEMAINE 
AND    DUCHESS   OF   CLEVELAND 


SUPPLANTED  175 

honour  should  be  sent  to  London.  It  was  said  also 
that  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whom  Charles 
despatched  to  Paris  to  thank  Louis  for  his  con- 
dolences on  Henrietta's  death  and  to  strengthen 
the  harmony  between  the  two  Powers,  had  repre- 
sented to  his  King  that  it  would  be  very  fitting  for 
him  now  to  look  after  the  interests  of  his  late 
sister's  young  attendant.^  Buckingham,  it  must  be 
remembered,  was  now  actively  hostile  to  the  mistress 
in  possession  and  was  eager  therefore  to  see  her  de- 
prived of  her  remaining  power.  Louise  made  a  show 
of  reluctance,  but  finally  gave  way  and  crossed  the 
Channel  in  charge  of  Ralph  Montagu,  the  English 
Ambassador  in  Paris.  On  November  4th,  1670, 
Evelyn  saw  at  Court  for  the  first  time  "  that  famous 
beauty,  but  in  my  opinion  of  a  childish,  simple,  and 
baby  face,  Mademoiselle  de  Querouaille,  lately  Maide 
of  Honor  to  Madame,  and  now  to  be  so  to  the 
Queene."  On  her  arrival  in  England  Louise  still 
proved  very  coy,  to  the  alarm  of  Louis's  representative 
at  Whitehall,  who  feared  that  the  plan  of  binding 
Charles  firmly  to  the  French  side  by  means  of  the 
lady  might  miscarry.  Almost  another  year  had  to  pass 
before  the  beauty  would  give  way.     No  doubt  she 

^  The  Marquis  de  Saint-Maurice,  Savoy's  Ambassador  in  Paris, 
writing  to  the  Duke  Charles  Emmanuel  II  on  September  19th,  says  : 
"The  Duke  of  Buckingham  has  taken  with  him  Mile,  de  Keroualle, 
who  was  attached  to  her  late  Highness  ;  she  is  a  beautiful  girl,  and  it 
is  thought  that  the  plan  is  to  make  her  mistress  to  the  King  of  Great 
Britain.  He  would  like  to  dethrone  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  is  his 
enemy,  and  His  Most  Christian  Majesty  will  not  be  sorry  to  see  the 
position  filled  by  one  of  his  subjects,  for  it  is  said  the  ladies  have  great 
influence  over  the  mind  of  the  said  King  of  England." 


176  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

understood  the  game  better  than  even  Colbert.  Cer- 
tainly, when  once  she  stooped  to  conquer,  she  esta- 
blished herself  in  her  position  for  the  remainder  of  the 
King's  lifetime. 

As  Louise  de  Keroualle  did  not  even  reach  England 
until  the  autumn  of  1670,  Charles's  gift  of  a  new  and 
higher  title  to  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine  in  the 
summer  of  that  year  cannot  be  regarded  in  the 
light  of  a  consolation  to  the  mistress  whom  he  was 
replacing  by  another.  It  was  on  August  23rd  that  he 
created  her  Baroness  Nonsuch,  Countess  of  Southamp- 
ton, and  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  It  is  significant  that 
in  the  patent  the  remainder  is  granted  to  Charles  and 
George  Fitzroy,  described  as  her  first  and  second  sons, 
the  paternity  of  Henry  thus  being  still  disowned  by 
the  King.  Henry  had  to  wait  another  two  years  for 
recognition. 

The  Gramont  Memoirs  give  an  extraordinary  reason 
for  Charles's  bestowal  of  the  new  honour  upon  Lady 
Castlemaine  at  this  moment.  According  to  them,  it 
was  the  result  of  a  violent  quarrel  between  King  and 
lady  over  her  continued  infatuation  for  Henry 
Jermyn.  Charles,  says  Gramont,  "  did  not  think  it 
consistent  with  his  dignity  that  a  mistress  whom  he 
had  honoured  with  public  distinction,  and  who  still 
received  considerable  support  from  him,  should  appear 
chained  to  the  car  of  the  most  ridiculous  conqueror 
that  ever  was.  His  Majesty  had  frequently  expostu- 
lated with  the  Countess  upon  this  subject,  but  his 
expostulations  were  never  attended  to.  It  was  in  one 
of  these  differences  that,  when  he  advised  her  to  bestow 


SUPPLANTED  177 

her  favours  upon  Jacob  Hall  the  rope-dancer,  who 
was  able  to  return  them,  rather  than  lavish  her  money 
upon  Jermyn  to  no  purpose,  since  it  would  be  more 
honourable  to  her  to  pass  for  the  mistress  of  the 
former  than  for  the  very  humble  servant  of  the  latter, 
she  was  not  proof  against  his  raillery.  The  impetuosity 
of  her  temper  broke  forth  like  lightning."  Reproaches 
against  his  promiscuous  and  low  amours,  floods  of 
tears,  and  Medea-like  threats  of  destroying  her 
children  and  burning  his  palace  followed.  The  King, 
who  only  wanted  peace,  was  in  despair  how  to  obtain 
it.  So  Gramont  (he  says)  was  called  in  as  mediator 
by  mutual  consent.  He  drew  up  a  treaty  by  which  he 
managed  to  please  both  parties.    This  ran  as  follows  : 

"  That  Lady  Castlemaine  should  give  up  Jermyn 
for  ever  ;  that,  as  a  proof  of  her  sincerity  and  the 
reality  of  his  disgrace,  she  should  agree  to  his  being 
sent  into  the  country  for  some  time  ;  that  she  should 
rail  no  more  against  Mile.  Wells  [one  of  the  maids  of 
honour  who  had  attracted  the  King]  or  Mile.  Stewart ; 
and  this  without  any  constraint  on  the  King's  be- 
haviour to  her  ;  that  in  consideration  of  these  con- 
descensions His  Majesty  should  immediately  give  her 
the  title  of  Duchess,  with  all  the  honours  and  privileges 
appertaining  thereto,  and  an  addition  to  her  pension 
to  enable  her  to  support  the  dignity." 

The  proceedings  at  the  Court  of  Charles  H  were 
certainly  extraordinary,  but  not  quite  so  extraordinary 
as  to  induce  us  to  credit  a  tale  like  this  in  its  entirety. 
It  is,  however,  not  improbable  that  there  was  some 

N 


178  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

such  quarrel  between  the  King  and  his  mistress  as  the 
Memoirs  describe,  and  that  the  latter  exacted  as  the 
price  o£  peace  the  rank  of  Duchess.  Charles  was  never 
grudging  with  titles. 

The  choice  of  the  names  Cleveland  and  Southamp- 
ton is  unexplained.  An  earlier  Cleveland  peerage  had 
lapsed  three  years  previously  when  Thomas  Went- 
worth,  Earl  of  Cleveland,  one  of  the  heroes  of  the 
Battle  of  Worcester,  died  leaving  only  a  granddaughter, 
Lady  Henrietta  Wentworth,  afterwards  mistress  of 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth.  Southampton  was  the  first 
title  of  Barbara's  old  enemy  the  Lord  Treasurer — 
Thomas  Wriothesley,  Earl  of  Southampton  and 
Chichester  ;  and  it  is  curious  to  notice  that  Charles 
Fitzroy,  who  was  now,  as  first  heir  to  his  mother, 
created  Earl  of  Southampton,  was  three  years  later 
made  Duke  of  Southampton  and  Earl  of  Chichester. 
The  grant  of  the  barony  of  Nonsuch  no  doubt  in- 
dicated that  the  King  had  already  decided  on  the  gift 
of  Nonsuch  House,  which  he  made  five  months 
later. 

The  assumption  of  her  new  rank  was  followed  by 
the  Duchess's  bestowal  of  the  name  of  Cleveland 
House  on  the  residence  she  was  building  on  the  unsold 
portions  of  the  Berkshire  House  estate.  Cleveland 
House,  described  by  Evelyn  as  "  a  noble  palace,  too 
good  for  that  infamous  .  .  ."  (here  words  fail  him), 
was  pulled  down  and  replaced  by  Bridgewater  House 
in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  but  its 
memory  is  preserved  in  the  present-day  Cleveland 
Square  and  Row,  Westminster.     It  was  perhaps  for 


SUPPLANTED  179 

the  decoration  of  the  grounds  of  her  new  house  that 
the  Cupid  was  intended  which  is  mentioned  in  the 
last  letter  in  the  Chesterfield  collection  addressed  to 
the  "  Dutches  of  Cleaveland,"  dated  1670.  Lord 
Chesterfield,  a  year  ago  married  for  the  third  time, 
boasts  of  his  obedience  to  the  least  of  the  Duchess's 
commands,  having  as  soon  as  he  came  to  town  be- 
spoken a  figure  for  her  fountain,  a  Cupid  kneeling  on 
a  rock  and  shooting  from  his  bow  a  stream  of  water 
up  towards  heaven.  "  This  may  be  interpreted  by- 
some,"  he  writes,  "  that  your  ladyship,  not  being 
content  v/ith  the  conquest  of  one  world,  doth  now 
by  your  devotions  attack  the  other.  I  hope  this  stile 
hath  to  much  gravity  to  appear  gallant ;  since  many 
years  agoe  your  ladyship  gave  me  occasion  to  repeate 
those  two  lines  : 

"  VoHS  in  ''otes  tout  espoir  pour  vous,  belle  inhumame, 
Et  pour  tout  autre  que  vous  vous  v^otes  tout  desir.^'' 

Doubtless  Her  Grace  reflected,  as  she  read  the 
closing  words  of  this  letter,  on  the  existence  of  Lady 
Chesterfield  number  three — for  whose  loss,  by  the 
way,  her  husband  evinced  considerable  sorrow  when 
she  died  in  1678. 

In  this  year  of  fresh  honours  to  her  Lady  of  the  Bed- 
chamber, there  seems  to  have  been  a  revival  of  the 
rumours  of  the  coming  divorce  of  the  unhappy  Queen. 
Burnet  is  our  authority  for  the  prevalence  of  talk  about 
the  probability  of  Catherine  "  turning  religious  "  and 
a  bill  being  brought  before  Parliament  to  legalise  a 
divorce.     With  his  usual  readiness  to  attribute  the 


i8o  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

worst  to  Charles  himself,^  he  makes  him  the  originator 
of  the  scheme.  "  It  was  beUeved,"  he  continues, 
"  that  upon  this  the  Duchess  of  York  sent  an  express 
to  Rome  with  the  notice  of  her  conversion  ;  and  that 
orders  were  sent  from  Rome  to  all  about  the  Queen 
to  persuade  her  against  such  a  proposition,  if  any 
should  suggest  it  to  her.  She  herself  had  no  mind 
to  be  a  nun,  and  the  Duchess  was  afraid  of  seeing 
another  Queen  ;  and  the  mistress,  created  at  that 
time  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  knew  that  she  must  be 
the  first  sacrifice  to  a  beloved  Queen  ;  and  she  recon- 
ciled herself  upon  this  to  the  Duchess  of  York." 

There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  divorce 
rumours  were  actually  current  again  in  1670,  to  whom- 
ever the  revival  of  the  scheme  was  due.  Once  more 
the  Queen  had  disappointed  her  husband's  hopes  in 
the  previous  year,  and  he  might  well  despair  now  of 
ever  seeing  a  legitimate  heir  from  her.  As  for  the 
alliance  between  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  and  the 
Yorks,  the  reasons  for  their  opposition  to  the  idea  of 
a  new  queen  were  as  good  as  ever.  We  do  not  know, 
apart  from  what  Burnet  says,  of  any  necessity  for 
"  reconciliation  "  between  the  two  Duchesses.  Her 
Royal  Highness  seems  to  have  become  a  Roman 
Catholic  at  heart  as  early  as  1668,  but  it  was  not  until 

^  In  return  Charles  impugned  the  Bishop's  truthfulness.  The 
then  exiled  Queen  (Mary  of  Modena),  meeting  George  Granville, 
first  Baron  Lansdowne  in  Paris  at  the  time  when  Burnet's  History 
appeared,  told  him  that  she  well  remembered  Dr.  Burnet  and  his 
character;  "that  the  King  and  the  Duke,  and  the  whole  Court,  looked 
upon  him  as  the  greatest  liar  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  there  was 
no  believing  one  word  that  he  said." 


SUPPLANTED  i8i 

two  years  later  that  she  was  actually  received  into 
the  Church.  The  Duke  of  York's  conversion  is  placed 
by  Sir  John  Reresby  in  the  same  year.  According  to 
his  Memoirs,  when  Henrietta  of  Orleans  paid  her 
momentous  visit  to  England,  she  "  confirmed  His 
High  Highness  the  Duke  in  the  Popish  superstition, 
of  which  he  had  as  yet  been  barely  suspected  ;  and  it 
is  said  to  have  been  his  grand  argument  for  such  his 
adherence  to  those  tenets,  that  his  mother  had,  upon 
her  last  blessing,  commanded  him  to  be  firm  and 
steadfast  thereto."  James,  from  his  own  Memoirs, 
appears  not  to  have  withdrawn  from  the  Church 
of  England  until  1672.  Both  he  and  his  wife,  how- 
ever, w'ere  in  feeling  Roman  Catholics  considerably 
before  their  respective  conversions  and  had  therefore 
a  bond  of  sympathy  with  the  royal  mistress,  poor 
ornament  though  she  might  be  to  any  church. 
Buckingham's  strong  Protestantism,  on  the  other 
hand,  made  him  still  more  bitterly  hostile  to  his  cousin 
and  the  Yorks  as  he  saw  them  drawn  closer  together. 
It  also  forced  the  King  to  keep  him,  like  Lauderdale 
and  Ashley — all  members  of  the  ruling  "  cabal  " — 
actually  ignorant,  when  they  signed  a  treaty  with 
France  on  the  last  day  of  1670,  that  there  was  the 
secret  Treaty  of  Dover  already  in  force  seven  months 
ago !  We  need  not  suppose  that  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  had  any  knowledge  of  this  stupendous  piece 
of  duphcity,  although  the  Duke  of  York  (and  there- 
fore possibly  his  wife)  had.  Charles  was  not  so  foolish 
as  to  commit  so  ruinous  a  secret  to  the  keeping  of  a 
lady  with  a  temper  and  a  tongue  like  Barbara's. 


1 82  MY    LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

The  ever-rising  French  influence,  even  before  the 
estabHshment  of  Louise  de  Keroualle  as  mistress, 
doubtless  accounts  for  the  very  few  pubHc  appearances 
of  Lady  Cleveland  of  which  we  hear  in  1671.  She  is 
seen  at  a  ballet  at  Court  in  February  "  very  fine  in  a 
riche  petticoat  and  halfe  skirte,  and  a  short  man's  coat 
very  richly  laced,  a  perwig  cravatt,  and  a  hat  :  her  hat 
and  maske  was  very  rich."  About  the  same  time  also 
she  drives  in  Hyde  Park  in  a  coach  with  eight  horses, 
and  rumour  attributes  to  her  the  intention  of  having 
twelve  horses.  On  March  2nd  Evelyn  has  an  interest- 
ing entry.  He  walks  through  St.  James's  Park  to  the 
Privy  Garden,  "  where  I  both  saw  and  heard  a  very 
familiar  discourse  between  [the  King]  and  Mrs. 
Nellie  as  they  called  an  impudent  comedian,  she  look- 
ing out  of  her  garden  on  a  terrace  at  the  top  of  the 
wall  and  [the  King]  standing  on  the  greene  walke 
under  it.  I  was  heartily  sorry  at  this  scene,"  continues 
Evelyn.  "  Thence  the  King  walked  to  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  another  lady  of  pleasure  and  curse  of 
our  nation."  It  seems  to  have  been  impossible  for 
Evelyn  to  mention  the  lady's  name  without  recording 
his  detestation  of  her,  just  as  Pepys  could  seldom  do 
so  without  a  note  of  admiration.  Yet  the  two  diarists 
were  excellent  friends  ! 

As  though  to  console  her  for  her  supersession  as  a 
political  influence,  the  King  was  lavishly  generous  to 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  in  the  year  1671.  He  began 
with  a  grant  in  January  of  Nonsuch  House  and  Park, 
near  Epsom — the  complement  of  the  lowest  of  the 
three    titles    conferred    upon    her    in    the    previous 


SUPPLANTED  183 

August.  Nonsuch  House  or  Palace  had  been  built  by- 
Henry  Vni  as  a  hunting-box.  After  it  had  passed 
temporarily  into  private  hands  Elizabeth  had  pur- 
chased it  back  for  the  Crown,  and  her  successors 
had  used  it  as  an  occasional  residence,  Charles  I  having 
taken  Henrietta  Maria  thither  after  their  quarrel  over 
his  dismissal  of  her  French  attendants,  and  afterwards 
settling  it  upon  her.  In  spite  of  the  damage  done  to  it 
during  the  Commonwealth  and  its  use  as  the  office 
of  the  Exchequer  during  the  period  of  the  Plague  in 
London,  it  had  come  down  to  this  date  in  excellent 
preservation.  Evelyn,  who  visited  it  on  January  3rd, 
1666,  praises  it  highly,  with  its  plaster  statues  and 
bas-reliefs  inserted  between  the  timbers  and  pun- 
cheons of  its  outer  walls,  "  which  must  needs  have 
been  the  work  of  some  celebrated  Italian  "  ;  its  in- 
genious arrangement  of  slate  scales  on  wood,  "  the 
slate  fastened  on  the  timber  in  pretty  figures,  that  has, 
like  a  coate  of  armour,  preserved  it  from  rotting  "  ; 
and  its  "  mezzo-relievos  as  big  as  the  life,  the  storie  is 
of  the  Heathen  Gods."  As  for  the  grounds,  "  there 
stands  in  the  garden  two  handsome  stone  pyramids, 
and  the  avenue  planted  with  rows  of  faire  elmes,  but 
the  rest  of  these  goodly  trees  .  .  .  were  felled  by 
those  destructive  and  avaricious  rebells  in  the  late 
warr,  which  defaced  one  of  the  stateliest  seates  His 
Majesty  had."  Alas  !  a  worse  fate  was  now  to  befall 
it.  The  new  owner  pulled  down  the  old  palace  of 
Henry  VIII  and  turned  the  park  into  farm-land,  in 
order  to  extract  fuller  cash-value  from  her  acquisition. 
This  grant  was   made  in   the  names   of   Viscount 


1 84  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Grandison  and  of  Henry  Brounker,  a  creature  of  the 
King's,  justly  called  by  Pepys  "  a  pestilential  rogue." 
A  letter  survives,  written  by  Charles  to  Brounker  on 
August  25th,  in  which  His  Majesty  refers  to  the 
changes  at  Nonsuch.  "  The  Dutches  of  Cleaveland," 
he  says,  "  has  satisfied  me  it  is  both  for  her  advantage 
and  those  in  the  reversion  that  Nonsuch  should  be 
suddenly  disparked,  to  avoid  all  sutes  and  contests 
between  her  and  the  Lord  Berkeley,  and  that  she 
intends  to  let  it  out  at  a  rent  which  is  to  be  reserved 
to  her  Grace,"  &c. 

We  hear  of  enormous  money  gifts  later  in  the 
year.  Writing  on  August  9th  to  a  friend  travelling 
in  Persia,  Andrew  Marvell  tells  how  the  House  of 
Commons  has  grown  "  extreme  chargeable  to  the 
King  and  odious  to  the  people."  Lord  St.  John,  Sir 
Robert  Howard,  Sir  John  Bennet,  and  Sir  William 
Bucknell  the  brewer,  all  members  of  the  Commons, 
have  "  farmed  the  old  customs,  with  the  new  Act 
of  Imposition  upon  Wines  and  the  Wine  Licenses,  at 
six  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year,  and  have  signed 
and  sealed  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year  more  to  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  who  has  likewise  near  ten 
thousand  pounds  a  year  out  of  the  new  farm  of  the 
county  excise  of  Beer  and  Ale  ;  five  thousand  pounds 
a  year  out  of  the  Post  Ofhce,  and,  they  say,  the  re- 
version of  all  the  King's  leases,  the  reversion  of  all 
places  in  the  Custom  House,  the  Green  Wax,  and 
what  not  !  All  promotions,  spiritual  and  temporal, 
pass  under  her  cognizance."  Near  the  end  of  the 
same   letter   he   relates   how   "  Barclay,"    i.e.    Baron 


SUPPLANTED  185 

Berkeley  of  Stratton,  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  has 
been  compelled  to  come  over  to  England  to  pay  ten 
thousand  pounds  rent  to  his  landlady  Cleveland." 
What  precisely  Berkeley  is  paying  rent  for  is  not  clear — 
though  Berkeley's  name  is  also  mentioned  in  Charles's 
letter  above.  But  we  know  that  some  time  later  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  appears  as  the  recipient  of 
estates  in  Ireland  sufficient  to  produce  a  revenue  of 
^1000  a  year  to  compensate  her  for  a  promise  which 
Charles  had  made  her  and  not  kept.  How  this  came 
about  is  told  by  Carte  in  his  Life  of  the  Duke  of 
Ormonde.  Explaining  why  the  Duchess  always  did 
Ormonde  all  the  ill  offices  that  were  in  her  power,  he 
says : 

"  She  had  obtained  of  the  King  a  warrant  for  the 
grant  of  the  Phoenix  Park  and  House  near  Dublin, 
which  was  the  only  place  of  retirement  in  the  summer 
season  for  a  chief  governor  ;  and  the  more  necessary 
at  that  time,  when  His  Grace  coming  over  found  the 
castle  of  Dublin  so  out  of  repair,  and  in  such  a  miser- 
able condition,  after  the  neglect  of  it  during  the  late 
usurpation,  that  it  did  not  afford  him  sufficient 
accommodation.  The  Lord  Lieutenant  refused  to  pass 
this  warrant,  stopped  the  grant,  and  prevailed  with 
His  Majesty  to  enlarge  the  park  by  the  purchase  of 
four  hundred  and  fifty  acres  of  land  adjoining  in 
Chapel  Izod  of  the  Lord  Chancellor  Eustace,  and  to 
fit  up  the  house  for  the  convenience  of  himself  and 
his  successors  in  the  government  of  Ireland.  This 
incensed  the  Lady  Castlemaine  so  highly  that  upon 
His  Grace's  return  to  England,  meeting  him  in  one 
of   the   apartments    about    Court,    she   without   any 


1 86  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

manner  of  regard  to  the  place  or  company,  fell  upon 
him  with  a  torrent  of  abusive  language,  loaded  him 
with  all  the  reproaches  that  the  rancour  of  her  heart 
could  suggest,  or  the  folly  of  her  tongue  could  utter, 
and  told  him  in  fine  that  she  hoped  to  live  to  see  him 
hanged.  The  Duke  heard  all  unmoved,  and  only  made 
her  this  memorable  reply  :  That  he  was  not  in  so  much 
haste  to  put  an  end  to  her  days,  for  all  he  wished 
with  regard  to  her  was  that  he  might  live  to  see  her 
old." 

The  Duchess,  nevertheless,  forgave  Ormonde  suffi- 
ciently to  ask  a  favour  of  him  many  years  later,  as  will 
be  seen. 

Marvell,  in  his  above-quoted  letter,  we  may  sup- 
pose, is  summarising  for  the  benefit  of  his  friend  in 
Persia  all  the  Duchess's  recent  acquisitions,  not  merely 
those  of  the  year  1671.  It  is  a  fact,  however,  that  in 
the  following  February  yet  another  grant  was  made 
by  the  King  to  Viscount  Grandison,  Henry  Howard, 
and  Francis  Villiers  of  a  number  of  manors  and  ad- 
vowsons  in  Surrey,  two-thirds  of  which  they  pro- 
ceeded to  declare  they  would  hold  in  trust  for  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland. 

Even  if  Marvell's  list  be  a  summary  to  date,  there- 
fore, it  is  plain  that  the  Duchess  was  in  possession  of 
enormous  resources  soon  after  her  acquisition  of  the 
title.  As  to  the  manner  in  which  she  dissipated  much 
of  her  wealth  there  is  no  doubt.  Reckless  gambling 
and  reckless  expenditure  on  favourites  accounted  for 
vast  sums.  Of  her  gifts  to  Hart  and  salary  to  the  rope- 
dancer  we  have  already  heard.     She  added  a   more 


SUPPLANTED  187 

aristocratic  client  to  her  list.  The  Gramont  Memoirs, 
with  their  usual  disregard  for  dates,  place  the  begin- 
ning of  her  intrigue  with  John  Churchill  in  the  year 
when  the  Court  visited  the  West  of  England — 1663, 
at  which  time  Churchill  was  but  thirteen  !  This  is 
obviously  absurd.  That  extraordinary  person,  Mrs. 
Mary  de  la  Riviere  Manley,  who  disputes  with  Mrs. 
Aphra  Behn  the  palm  for  feminine  literary  indelicacy 
in  the  Restoration  era,  seems  to  place  it  in  1667.  But 
Mrs.  Manley  did  not  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  until  twenty-six  years  later, 
indeed  was  not  born  for  another  three  years,  and  she 
is  not,  therefore,  a  first-hand  authority  concerning 
her  temporary  patroness's  doings  in  1667.  The  fact 
that  Pepys  has  no  mention  at  all  of  John  Churchill  in 
the  Diary  is  a  very  strong  argument  against  his 
association  with  the  Duchess  previous  to  May  1669. 
All  that  we  can  be  certain  of,  however,  is  that  they 
were  acquainted  before  the  end  of  1671,  since  their 
daughter  Barbara  was  born  in  the  July  of  the  following 
year. 

Mrs.  Manley  in  7he  New  Atalantis  attributes  the 
introduction  of  the  young  ensign  to  the  royal  mistress 
to  a  chance  meeting  at  Cleveland  House.  Churchill's 
maternal  aunt  was  "  surintendant  of  the  family  of  the 
Dutchess  De  PInconsta?tt,  Sultana  Mistress  to  Sigis- 
mu7id  the  Second,^^  and  her  nephew  used  to  visit  his 
aunt  and  fill  himself  with  sweetmeats.  "  The  Dutchess 
came  one  day  unexpectedly  down  the  back  stairs  to 
take  chair,  and  found  'em  together  ;  he  had  slip'd 
away,  for  fear  of  anger,  but  not  so  speedily  but  she 


1 88  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

had  a  glimpse  of  his  graceful  person.  She  ask'd  who 
he  was ;  and  being  answer'd,  she  caus'd  him  to  be 
call'd.  .  .  .  The  Governess,  knowing  the  Dutchess's 
amorous  star,  was  transported  at  the  happy  intro- 
duction of  her  nephew,"  etc. 

Perhaps  this  must  be  dismissed  as  romance  based 
on  gossip  related  to  Mrs.  Manley  after  her  quarrel 
with  the  Duchess  in  1694.  But  doubtless  the  Duchess 
when  she  first  met  Churchill  was  immediately  smitten. 
The  fourth  Lord  Chesterfield,  writing  to  his  son, 
says  that  Marlborough's  figure  was  beautiful,  his 
manner  irresistible  by  either  man  or  woman.  The 
Duchess  did  not  attempt  to  resist,  and  the  affair  was 
soon  known  to  the  King.  Churchill  has  been  identified 
with  the  hero  of  Burnet's  story  of  how  an  intrigue, 
"  by  the  artifice  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  was 
discovered  by  the  King  in  person,  the  party  concerned 
leaping  out  of  the  window."  Charles  was  indignant, 
as  he  had  been  in  the  case  of  Jermyn  ;  not  jealous  over 
the  lady  falling  in  love,  but  angry  at  the  exhibi- 
tion which  she  made  of  it.  As  will  be  seen,  his  desire, 
after  he  had  pensioned  her  off,  was  that  she  should 
make  the  least  noise  she  could. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  took  no  steps  to  punish 
the  offenders.  He  dismissed  Churchill  with  nothing 
worse  than  the  cynical  "  I  forgive  you,  for  you  do  it 
for  your  bread  !  "  The  sting  of  this  was  that  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  been  lavishly  generous  to  the 
young  man,  whether  or  not  she  had  at  this  time  already 
presented  him  with  that  famous  ^5000  which  Churchill, 
showing  thus  early  in  life  the  appreciation  of  the  value 


SUPPLANTED  189 

of  money  which  marked  him  so  strongly  later,  in- 
vested profitably  in  the  pmxhase  of  an  annuity  of 
£500  a  year.  This  present  from  the  Duchess  was,  as 
both  Lord  Chesterfield  and  Boyer  remark,  the  founda- 
tion of  Churchill's  subsequent  fortune.  His  gratitude, 
however,  for  the  lady's  generosity  was  small.  Mrs. 
Manley  in  her  Toma7i  d  clef,  The  Adventures  of  Rivella 
relates  how  "  from  Hilaria  she  received  the  first  ill- 
impressions  of  Count  Fortmiatus,  touching  his  ingrati- 
tude, immorality,  and  avarice  ;  being  herself  an  eye- 
witness when  he  deny'd  Hilaria  (who  had  given  him 
thousands)  the  common  civility  of  lending  her  twenty 
guineas  at  Basset  ;  which,  together  with  betraying 
his  master,  and  raising  himself  by  his  sister's  dis- 
honour, she  had  always  esteem'd  a  just  and  flaming 
subject  for  satire."  ^ 

In  The  New  Aialantis  she  describes  the  same  scene 
of  the  refusal  in  graphic  detail.  The  Duchess,  she 
says,  had  oftentimes  not  a  pistole  at  command, 
"  solicited  the  Count  (whom  she  had  rais'd)  by  his  favour 
with  the  Court  that  her  affairs  might  be  put  into  a 
better  posture,  but  he  was  deaf  to  all  her  intreaties  ; 
nay,  he  carried  ingratitude  much  further  ;  one  night 
at  an  assembly  of  the  best  quality,  when  the  Count 
tallied  to  them  at  Basset,  the  Dutchess  lost  all  her  money 
&  begged  the  favour  of  him,  in  a  very  civil  manner, 
to  lend  her  twenty  pieces  ;  which  he  absolutely  refused, 
though  he  had  a  thousand  upon  the  table  before  him, 
and  told  her  coldly,  the  bank  never  lent  any  money. 

^  Rivella  is  Mrs.  Manley  herself,  Hilaria  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland, 
Count  Fortunatus  the  Duke  of  Marlborough, 


190  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Not  a  person  upon  the  place  but  blamed  him  in  their 
hearts  :  as  to  the  Duchess's  part,  her  resentment  burst 
out  into  a  bleeding  at  her  nose,  and  breaking  of  her 
lace  ;  without  which  aid,  it  is  believed,  her  vexation 
had  killed  her  upon  the  spot." 

Churchill  "  could  refuse  more  gracefully  than  other 
people  could  grant,"  says  Lord  Chesterfield  in  the 
above-mentioned  letter  to  his  son.  His  refusal  of 
the  Duchess's  request  for  a  loan  is  scarcely  an  instance 
of  this  ! 

To  supply  Churchill  with  the  ;^50oo  without  in- 
convenience to  herself  the  Duchess  is  credited  with 
having  got  double  the  amount  out  of  the  notorious 
spendthrift  and  rake.  Sir  Edward  Hungerford,  who 
founded  Hungerford  Market  some  years  later  on  the 
site  of  his  town  house,  burnt  in  1669,  and  after  selling 
the  market,  like  some  thirty  manors  which  were  once 
his,  died  in  comparative  poverty  two  years  after  the 
Duchess.  This  affair  with  Hungerford  explains  Pope's 
allusion  to  the  lady 

"  Who  of  ten  thousand  gulled  her  Knight, 
Then  asked  ten  thousand  for  another  night ; 
The  gallant  too,  to  whom  she  paid  it  down, 
Lived  to  refuse  the  mistress  half-a-crown.'' 

Boyer,  in  his  obituary  notice  of  the  Duchess,  after 
speaking  of  her  affair  with  Churchill,  says  :  "  I  had 
rather  draw  a  Veil  over  the  Life  this  Lady  led  from 
henceforward.  .  .  .  Indeed  it  would  be  too  tedious 
to  enter  upon  a  Detail  of  her  other  Amours."  To  a 
certain  extent  we  may  follow  Boyer's  discreet  example, 
since  there  is  little  interest  beyond  mere  curiosity  in 


SUPPLANTED  191 

many  of  the  lady's  rapidly  increasing  love-affairs. 
But  one  calls  for  attention,  since  the  other  person  in- 
volved in  it  was  the  celebrated  dramatist  Wycherley, 
who  owed  not  a  little  of  his  early  success  to  the 
patronage  of  Her  Grace.  Some  time  in  the  early  spring 
of  1 67 1,  it  would  appear,  he  had  produced  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  his  Love  in  a  Wood,  or  St.  James' s  Park, 
his  first  written  and  first  acted  play.  The  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  went  to  a  performance,  with  a  result 
which  the  dramatist  could  not  have  anticipated.  John 
Dennis,  the  friend  of  Wycherley,  Congreve,  Dryden, 
and  other  wits,  in  his  Familiar  Letters  describes  what 
happened  on  the  very  next  day  following  the  Duchess's 
visit  to  Drury  Lane.  As  Wycherley  was  going,  he 
says,  through  Pall  Mall  towards  St.  James's  in  his 
chariot,  he  met  the  lady  in  hers.  She,  thrusting  half 
her  body  out  of  the  chariot,  cried  out  aloud  to  him, 

"  You,  Wycherley,  you  are  the  son  of  a ,"  at  the 

same  time  laughing  heartily.  Wycherley,  we  are  told, 
was  very  much  surprised,  but  soon  apprehended  that 
the  allusion  was  to  a  song  in  Love  in  a  Wood,  suggesting, 
in  language  almost  as  coarse  as  the  Duchess's  own,  that 
the  mothers  of  great  wits  had  always  a  bad  character. 
The  rest  may  be  told  in  Dennis's  words  : 

"As  during  M^  Wycherley's  surprise  the  chariots 
drove  different  ways,  they  were  soon  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  each  other,  when  Mr.  Wycherley,  re- 
covering from  his  surprise,  ordered  his  coachman  to 
drive  back  and  to  overtake  the  lady.  As  soon  as  he 
got  over  against  her,  he  said  to  her  :  '  Madam,  you 
have   been   pleased   to   bestow   a   title   on   me  which 


192  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

generally  belongs  to  the  fortunate.  Will  your  Lady- 
ship be  at  the  play  to-night  ?  '  '  Well,'  she  reply'd, 
'  what  if  I  am  there  ?  '  '  Why,  then  I  will  be  there 
to  wait  upon  your  Ladyship,  tho'  I  disappoint  a  very 
line  woman  who  has  made  me  an  assignation.'  '  So,' 
said  she,  '  you  are  sure  to  disappoint  a  woman  who  has 
favoured  you  for  one  who  has  not.'  '  Yes,'  reply'd  he, 
*  if  she  who  has  not  favoured  me  is  the  finer  woman 
of  the  two.  But  he  who  will  be  constant  to  your 
Ladyship,  till  he  can  find  a  finer  woman,  is  sure  to  die 
your  captive.'  The  lady  blushed  and  bade  her  coach- 
man drive  away.  ...  In  short  she  was  that  night  in 
the  first  row  of  the  King's  box  in  Drury  Lane,  and 
M""  Wycherley  in  the  pit  under  her,  where  he  enter- 
tained her  during  the  whole  play." 

Wycherley  was  a  very  handsome  m.an,  as  his  con- 
temporaries tell  us  and  his  portrait  by  Lely  proves, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  that  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  took  a  great  fancy  to  him.  She 
not  only  favoured  him  with  her  own  society  but 
introduced  him  also  to  Court  and  King.  Wycherley, 
in  his  turn,  when  he  printed  his  Love  in  a  Wood,  pre- 
faced it  with  a  dedication  to  "  Her  Grace  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,"  which  is  not  only  important  for  fixing 
the  date  of  his  first  play's  appearance,  but  also  an 
interesting  document  in  itself,  as  a  few  extracts  will 
show  : 

"  Madam,"  says  Wycherley, 

"  All  authors  whatever  in  their  dedication  are 
poets  ;  but  I  am  now  to  write  to  a  lady  who  stands  as 
little  in  need  of  flattery,  as  her  beauty  of  art  ;    other- 


From  a  mezzotint  engraving  hy  I.  Smith,  after  a  painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely 

\VILLIA^r    WYCHERLEV 


SUPPLANTED  193 

wise  I  should  prove  as  ill  a  poet  to  her  in  my  dedication 
as  to  my  readers  in  my  play.  I  can  do  your  Grace  no 
honour,  nor  make  you  more  admirers  than  you  have 
already  ;  yet  I  can  do  myself  the  honour  to  let  the 
world  know  I  am  the  greatest  you  have.  ...  I  cannot 
but  publicly  give  your  Grace  my  humble  acknowledge- 
ments for  the  favours  I  have  received  from  you  :  this, 
I  say,  is  the  poet's  gratitude,  which,  in  plain  English, 
is  only  pride  and  ambition  ;  and  that  the  world  might 
knov/  that  your  Grace  did  me  the  honour  to  see  my 
play  twice  together.  Yet,  perhaps,  my  enviers  of 
your  favour  will  suggest  'twas  in  Lent,  and  therefore 
for  your  mortification.  Then,  as  a  jealous  author,  I  am 
concerned  not  to  have  your  Grace's  favours  lessened, 
or  rather  my  reputation  ;  and  to  let  them  know  you 
were  pleased,  after  that,  to  command  a  copy  from  me 
of  this  play  ; — the  only  way,  without  beauty  and  wit, 
to  win  a  poor  poet's  heart." 

The  dedication  closes  with  a  panegyric  on  the  lady. 
"  You  have  that  perfection  of  beauty  (without  think- 
ing it  so)  which  others  of  your  sex  but  think  they  have  ; 
that  generosity  in  your  actions  which  others  of  your 
quality  have  only  in  their  promises  ;  that  spirit,  wit 
and  judgment,  and  all  other  qualifications  which  fit 
heroes  to  command  and  would  make  any  but  your 
Grace  proud.  ...  In  fine,  speaking  thus  of  your 
Grace,  I  should  please  all  the  world  but  you  ;  therefore 
I  must  once  observe  and  obey  you  against  my  will, 
and  say  no  more  than  that  I  am.  Madam,  Your  Grace's 
most  obliged  and  most  humble  servant 

"  William  Wycherley." 

The  irregularity  of   the   ex-mistress's   life  was   no 

doubt  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  King  reduced  the 
o 


194  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

amount  of  his  merely  friendly  acquaintance  with  her. 
On  February  22nd,  1672,  we  find  Charles  Lyttelton 
writing  to  Viscount  Hatton  that  "  the  King  has  of 
late  forebore  visiting  my  Lady  Cle[veland]  ;  but  some 
two  days  since  was  with  her  againe  and  I  suppose  will 
continue  to  goe  sometimes,  though  it  may  not  be 
so  often."  Again,  on  March  22nd,  "  The  King  goes 
but  seldom  to  Cleveland  House."  On  the  other  hand, 
according  to  Lyttelton,  "  Mdlle.  Keerewell  is  infinitely 
in  favour,  and,  to  say  truth,  she  seems  as  well  to 
deserve  it,  for  she  is  wondrous  handsome,  and,  they 
say,  as  much  witt  and  addresse  as  ever  anybody  had." 
Mdlle.  Keerewell,  also  popularly  known  as  Madam 
Carwell,  or  Carewell,  is,  of  course,  Louise  de  Keroualle 
whose  ascendancy  over  the  King  is  now  established. 
In  the  previous  October  Charles  had  gone  to  New- 
market for  the  "  autumnal  sports  "  in  the  company 
of  "  jolly  blades,  racing,  dauncing,  feasting,  and 
revelling,  more  resembling  a  luxurious  and  abandoned 
rout  than  a  Christian  Court,"  as  Evelyn,  who  lodged 
first  with  the  surely  uncongenial  Henry  Jermyn  and 
then  with  the  Arlingtons  at  Euston,  sadly  exclaims. 
The  chief  sporting  event  was  a  race  between  His 
Majesty's]  Woodcock  and  Tom  Eliot's  Flatjoot,  before 
many  thousand  spectators.  But  a  more  impor- 
tant affair  was  the  presence,  as  the  guest  of  Lord 
and  Lady  Arlington,  of  "  the  famous  new  French 
Maid  of  Honour  Mile  Querouaille,  now  coming  to  be 
in  great  favour  with  the  King."  His  Majesty,  indeed, 
came  to  Euston  almost  every  second  day  and  fre- 
quently slept  there.     Colbert  was  also  a  guest  at  the 


SUPPLANTED  195 

house,  and  with  his  benevolent  aid,  no  doubt,  matters 
were  arranged  to  Charles's  desire.  "  'Twas  with  con- 
fidence believed,"  Evelyn  says,  that  the  lady  was 
"  first  made  a  misse,  as  they  call  these  unhappy  crea- 
tures, with  all  solemnity  at  this  time."  And  in  token 
of  her  shame  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland's  successor 
on  October  19th  appeared  at  the  races  in  the  royal 
coach  and  six.  The  visit  to  Newmarket  fulfilled 
Colbert's  hopes.  The  King's  affections  were  secured, 
especially  when  it  was  known  that  the  baby-faced 
maid  of  honour  was  going  to  present  him  with  a  child. 

By  a  curious  coincidence  in  the  same  month  of 
July  1672  there  were  born  Barbara  Palmer,  on  the  i6th, 
and  Charles  Lennox,  on  the  29th.  The  latter  was  the 
King's  son  by  Louise  de  Keroualle,  the  former  the 
first  of  the  known  offspring  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
that  was  certainly  not  the  King's — being  universally 
credited  to  Churchill. 

The  King  showed  not  the  slightest  displeasure  over 
the  appearance  of  the  little  Barbara.  A  fortnight 
later  he  graced  with  his  presence  the  formal  marriage 
of  the  Duchess's  second  son  Henry  to  Isabella  Bennet, 
only  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Arlington.  This  is  the 
union  so  ornately  celebrated  by  Nahum  Tate  in  his 
second  part  of  Absalom  and  Achitofhel : 

"■  His  age  with  only  one  mild  heiress  blest, 
In  all  the  bloom  of  smiling  nature  drest ; 
And  blest  again  to  see  his  flower  allied 
To  David's  stock,  and  made  young  Othniel's  bride." 

Young  Othniel,  otherwise  Henry  Fitzroy,  was  only 
nine,  Isabella  five,  so  that  the  ceremony  was  rather 


196  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

of  the  nature  of  a  betrothal  and  was  repeated  seven 
years  later.  Evelyn,  who  was  present  as  a  friend  of 
the  ArHngtons,  "  tooke  no  great  joy  at  the  thing  for 
many  reasons."  The  bride  to  him  appears  now  "  a 
sweete  child  if  ever  there  was  any,"  and  on  a  subse- 
quent occasion  "  worthy  for  her  beauty  and  virtue 
of  the  greatest  Prince  in  Christendom."  His  opinion 
at  the  time  of  the  second  marriage  we  shall  see 
later. 

The  presence  of  the  King  and  "  all  the  grandees," 
as  Evelyn  records,  at  the  marriage  and  the  officiation 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  show  that  His 
Majesty  had  at  last  determined  to  recognise  Henry 
as  his  son,  especially  as  on  August  15th  he  conferred 
upon  him,  *'  our  second  naturall  son  by  ye  Lady 
Barbara,"  &c.,  the  titles  of  Baron  Sudbury,  Viscount 
Ipswich,  and  Earl  of  Euston  ;  before  his  younger 
brother  George,  whom  the  King  always  acknowledged, 
had  received  such  an  honour.  Henry's  wedding, 
too,  was  celebrated  with  a  splendour  that  had  been 
totally  lacking  in  the  case  of  his  elder,  Charles  Fitzroy. 
In  the  previous  year  Charles,  aged  nine,  had  been 
contracted  to  a  child  bride,  Mary  Wood,  seven  years 
of  age,  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Wood,  a  clerk  of  the 
Green  Cloth.  Possibly  the  King  had  not  approved 
of  so  undistinguished  an  alliance.  But  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  with  her  eye  on  Mary's  considerable 
fortune  for  her  son,  had  obtained  forcible  and  illegal 
possession  of  the  little  girl  and  insisted  on  an  immediate 
marriage  and  conveyance  of  the  dowry. 

With  regard  to  George,  we  find  a  grant  of  ^^500 


SUPPLANTED  197 

made,  in  the  names  of  Grandison  and  Edward  Villiers, 
to  him  and  his  heirs  male.  Before  the  end  of  the  year 
the  King  had  granted  all  three  boys  arms,  crests,  and 
supporters ;  and  two  months  later  their  sisters  were 
also  furnished  with  arms. 

Clearly,  therefore,  to  whatever  extent  the  French 
mistress  had  taken  the  place  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, and  however  annoyed  the  King  was  at  the  latter's 
indiscretions,  he  had  no  intention  of  stopping  his 
bounty  to  her  or  of  shghting  their  children.  That 
this  was  universally  recognised  is  clear  from  the  alliances 
which  these  children  were  able  to  make,  both  the  sons 
and  the  daughters.  As  early  as  the  autumn  of  1671 
Lord  Howard  confided  to  Evelyn  his  project  of 
marrying  his  eldest  son  to  one  of  the  daughters  of 
the  King  and  Duchess,  "  by  which  he  reckoned  he 
should  come  into  mighty  favour."  This  scheme  was 
not  carried  out.  The  young  lady  Anne  Palmer  came 
back  to  her  mother  from  Paris  in  the  autumn  of  the 
following  year,  escorted  by  her  uncle  Grandison,  but 
when  she  married,  in  1674,  it  was  a  Lennard,  not  a 
Howard,  she  took  as  her  husband. 

The  year  1672  was  associated  with  death  as  well  as 
marriage.  Before  its  close  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
lost  her  grandmother.  Dame  Barbara  Villiers.  Pre- 
viously she  had  lost  her  mother,  but  except  that  it 
occurred  later  than  March  1671  the  date  of  her  death 
is  unknown.  So  little  is  the  former  Mary  Bayning 
heard  of  that  one  cannot  but  suspect  that  she  and 
her  daughter  were  on  unfriendly  terms  during  the 
latter's  ascendancy  over  Charles  H.     She  had  taken  a 


198  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

third  husband,  Arthur  Gorges,  and  survived  him  Hke 
the  other  two.    Otherwise  her  doings  are  unknown. 

That  the  grandmother,  too,  did  not  die  on  the  best 
of  terms  with  her  granddaughter  seems  probable  from 
the  smallness  of  her  legacy  to  her — ^50  with  which  to 
buy  a  mourning  ring.  The  old  lady  may  have  con- 
sidered that  it  was  not  money  but  respect  that  the 
Duchess  lacked. 


CHAPTER    X 
THE  PORTSMOUTH  SUPREMACY 

/^N  April  4th,  1672,  Evelyn  made  the  following 
entry  in  his  Diary.  "  I  went  to  see  the  fop- 
peries of  the  Papists  at  Somerset  House,  and  York 
House,  where  now  the  French  Ambassador  had 
caused  to  be  represented  our  Blessed  Saviour  at  the 
Paschal  Supper  with  his  Disciples,  in  figures  and 
puppets  made  as  big  as  the  life,  of  waxwork,  curiously 
clad  and  sitting  round  a  large  table,  the  roome  nobly 
hung,  and  shining  with  innumerable  lamps  and  candles : 
this  was  exposed  to  all  the  world,  all  the  City  came  to 
see  it  :  such  liberty  had  the  Roman  Catholics  at  this 
time  obtained." 

It  is  strange  to  read  this  when  we  know  that  eleven 
months  afterwards  the  Test  Act  passed  the  House 
of  Lords,  whereby  all  Roman  Catholics  were  de- 
barred from  holding  any  office  under  the  Crown 
or  post  in  the  Royal  Household.  Extreme  bitterness 
of  feeling  in  England  against  Popery  had  indeed 
begun  to  make  itself  felt  as  early  as  1666.  The  Great 
Fire  was  attributed  variously  to  the  Dutch,  the 
French,  and  the  native  Roman  Catholics,  but  espe- 
cially to  a  plot  between  the  two  last-named.  Out- 
rages   against     foreigners    and    Romanists    occurred 

before  the  Fire  itself  was  subdued.    To  the  flourish- 

199 


200  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

ing  of  the  legend  two  years  later  the  mock  answer 
o£  Lady  Castlemaine  to  the  libellous  petition  of 
March  1668  bears  witness.  But  the  French  alliance, 
followed  by  a  large  influx  of  French  visitors  into  the 
English  Court,  produced  its  natural  effect,  and  what 
Marvell  twice  in  his  letters  calls  "  the  insolence  of 
the  Papists  " — which  was  little  more  than  the  open 
avowal  of  their  beliefs — was  constantly  on  the  increase. 
The  news  of  the  conversion  of  the  Duchess  of 
York  before  her  death  in  March  1671,  coupled  with 
the  widespread  belief  that  the  Duke  had  also  gone 
over  already,  served  to  aggravate  popular  hostility 
toward  Rome.  So  strong  had  the  prejudice  grown 
before  the  end  of  1672  that  the  Protestant  members 
of  the  Cabal  extorted  the  King's  most  reluctant 
consent  to  a  Test  Act.  The  first  result  of  this  was 
that  the  Duke  of  York,  though  not  yet  a  declared 
Roman  Catholic,  refused  to  take  the  required  oath 
and  laid  down  all  his  offices,  including  that  of  Lord 
High  Admiral,  which  was  dear  to  him.  An  instructive 
letter  preserved  among  the  collection  addressed  to 
Sir  Joseph  Williamson,  Keeper  of  the  King's  Paper 
Office,  while  he  was  acting  as  plenipotentiary  for 
England  at  the  Congress  of  Cologne  in  1673,  shows 
what  effect  this  had  on  the  public.  "  Its  not  to  be 
writt,"  says  Henry  Ball,  Williamson's  chief  clerk 
at  the  Paper  Office,  "  the  horrid  discourses  that 
passes  now  upon  His  Royall  Highness  surrendring  ; 
they  call  him  Squire  James  and  say  he  was  alwayes 
a  Romanist."  A  little  later  Ball  declares  the  talk 
of  the  town  to  be  as  bad  against  the  Duke  as  ever 


THE   PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     201 

it  was  against  his  father  in  the  height  of  his  troubles  ; 
and  again  of  the  town's  "  averseness  to  both  France 
and  Popery,  the  latter  of  which  is  the  generall  eccho 
of  every  place."  The  remarriage  of  the  Duke  to 
Mary  Beatrice  d'Este  (Mary  of  Modena),  "  a  stiffe 
Roman  Catholique,"  makes  things  worse  than  ever. 
Talk  is  "  undecent  and  extravagent  "  ;  and  "  never 
did  the  common  streame  run  swifter  against  the 
Recusants  than  now."  In  the  November  of  the  same 
year  Charles  Hatton  writes  to  his  brother  of  the 
incredible  number  of  bonfires  on  the  5th,  the  Pope 
and  his  cardinals  being  burnt  in  ef^gy  in  Cheapside — 
a  fact  which  is  also  noticed  by  Evelyn,  and  attributed 
by  him  to  displeasure  at  the  Duke  for  altering  his 
religion  and  marrying  an  Italian  lady. 

One  of  the  sufferers  through  the  Test  Act  was  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  who  was  compelled  to  resign 
that  post  of  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Queen 
which  had  cost  such  a  struggle  eleven  years  before. 
Possibly  she  did  not  come  in  for  such  obloquy  now 
for  her  religious  beliefs  as  the  reigning  mistress ; 
it  was  for  Louise  de  Keroualle,  this  year  created 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  that  Nell  Gwynn  was  one 
day  mistaken  as  she  was  driving  through  the  streets 
of  London  and  had  to  jump  out  of  her  coach  and 
explain  to  the  "  good  people,"  who  were  proposing 
to  mob  her,  that  she  was  the  Protestant  mistress. 

The  French  beauty's  patent,  making  her  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth,  Countess  of  Farnham,  and  Baroness 
Petersfield,  was  ready  in  July  1673,  but  there  was 
some    difficulty    about    passing    it    before    she    was 


202  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

naturalised  an  English  subject.  This  being  sur- 
mounted, there  was  now  a  second  peeress  who  owed 
her  title  solely  to  her  complaisance  to  the  King. 
Rumour  would  have  it  that  there  was  going  to  be 
a  third — no  other  than  "  Madam  Gwynn,"  who  "  is 
promised  to  be  Countess  o£  Plymouth  as  soon  as 
they  can  see  how  the  people  will  relish  itt."  The 
general  public  would  doubtless  have  relished  it  far 
more  than  they  relished  the  Cleveland  and  Ports- 
mouth peerages  ;  but  Nell  Gwynn  got  no  nearer  to 
the  ranks  of  the  aristocracy  than  by  the  creation  of 
her  son,  Charles  Beauclerc,  first  Earl  of  Burford 
and  then,  in  1684,  Duke  of  St.  Albans. 

As  if  to  appease  the  former  mistress  for  the  dignity 
about  to  be  conferred  upon  her  successor,  the  King 
was  very  prodigal  with  his  grants  to  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  and  her  children  in  the  first  half  of 
1673.  In  January  he  invested  the  young  Earl  of 
Southampton  with  the  Order  of  the  Garter.  In 
February  he  made  the  already  mentioned  grant  of 
arms  to  the  Fitzroy  girls.  In  April  he  appointed 
the  Earl  of  Euston  Receiver-General  and  Comptroller 
of  the  Seals  of  the  Courts  of  King's  Bench  and 
Common  Pleas.  In  June  there  were  warrants  issued 
for  a  grant  to  Viscount  Grandison  and  Edward 
Villiers  of  moneys  arising  from  rents,  etc.,  in  the 
Duchy  of  Cornwall ;  for  a  free  gift  of  ^5000  to 
Grandison  ;  and  for  the  reversion  of  certain  manors 
in  Huntingdonshire  to  Grandison  and  Villiers  and 
their  heirs — all  for  the  benefit  of  the  Duchess  in 
reality.    And  in  July  the  revenue  of  the  wine  licences 


THE    PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     203 

were  charged  with  a  pension  of  ;^55oo  a  year  to  Lord 
Grandison  for  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland's  Hfe,  and 
after  her  decease  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton  and 
his  heirs  male,  etc.  Finally,  in  November  a  letter 
from  one  Derham  to  Sir  Joseph  WilHamson  states 
that  "  there  was  brought  into  the  House  [of  Com.mons] 
an  account  of  foure  hundred  thousand  pounds 
given  away  since  last  Session,  of  which  the  Duchesses 
of  Cleavland  and  Portsmouth  had  the  greatest  share." 

The  Williamson  letters,  from  which  most  of  these 
details  are  taken,  are  extraordinarily  informing  as 
to  the  domestic  affairs  of  1673,  the  head  of  the 
Paper  Office  having  taken  good  care,  with  the  help 
of  his  correspondents,  to  keep  himself  in  touch  with 
Court  news  while  he  was  absent  from  England. 
On  July  14th  Ball  reports  that  "  a  pleasant  rediculous 
story  is  this  week  blazed  about,  that  the  King  had 
given  Nell  Gwinn  20,000/.,  which  angrying  much 
my  Lady  Cleaveland  and  Mademoiselle  Carwell, 
they  made  a  supper  at  Berkshire  House,  whither  she 
being  invited  was,  as  they  were  drinking,  suddenly 
almost  choaked  with  a  napkin,  of  which  shee  was 
since  dead  ;  and  this  idle  thing  runs  so  hott  that 
Mr.  Philips  askt  me  the  truth  of  it,  believing  it, 
but  I  assured  him  I  saw  her  yester  night  in  the  Parke." 

Her  Grace  of  Cleveland,  being  now  outwardly  amic- 
able to  Her  Grace  of  Portsmouth,  was  probably 
at  the  fete  mentioned  in  Ball's  letter  of  July  25th, 
when  "  the  King,  Duke,  and  all  the  young  Lords 
and  Ladyes,  went  up  to  Barn  Elmes,  and  there  in- 
tended to  have  spent  the  evening  in  a  ball  and  supper 


204  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

amongst  those  shades,  the  trees  to  have  been  en- 
livened with  torches,  but  the  report  o£  it  brought 
such  a  traine  of  spectators  that  they  were  faine  to 
go  dance  in  a  barne  and  sup  upon  the  water  ;  the 
treate  was  at  the  cost  of  Madamoselle  Carowell."  ^ 

From  another  correspondent  we  learn  that  "  since 
my  Lady  Dutchesse  of  Portesmouth's  creation  few 
nights  have  escaped  without  balles ;  it  falls  this  night 
to  my  Lord  of  Arlington's  turne  at  Goring  House, 
where  all  things  will  bee  very  splendid."  The  French 
Ambassador  entertained  the  King  and  whole  Court 
at  Chelsea,  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  at  his  residence, 
and  so  on.  The  summer  season  in  London  this  year, 
in  fact,  was  very  gay  and  unusually  prolonged,  to 
the  detriment  of  the  King's  health.  On  October 
loth  Ball  writes  :  "  Indeed  now  they  lett  not  his 
sacred  person  alone  neither,  but  say  (and  that  every 
body)  that  he  has  had  lately  3  sad  fitts  of  an  apoplexy, 
the  first  whereof  tooke  him  in  the  Duchesse  of  Ports- 
mouth's presence,  who  has  since  begged  he  would 
not  come  to  her  att  nights.  On  Tuesday,  they  say, 
he  had  a  3d  fitt  in  the  Privy  Garden,  so  that  many 
people  are  much  concerned  and  have  begged  His 
Majesty  to  be  adviced  by  his  phisitians,  who  tell 
him  he  must  a  little  refraine  company,  etc." 

Soon  after  these  alarming  fits  Charles  was  called 
upon  to  arbitrate  between  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
and  Lord  Arlington,  who  had  fallen  out  concerning 
the  upbringing  of  the  Earl  of  Euston.  After  the 
marriage   of    August    1672    the    Lord    Chamberlain 

^   Yet  another  Anglicisation  of  Keroualle. 


THE    PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     205 

wished  to  have  some  control  of  his  son-in-law's 
education.  He  therefore  obtained  the  King's  per- 
mission to  take  him  with  him  to  Euston,  his  Suffolk 
seat,  of  which  Evelyn's  Diary  has  an  elaborate  de- 
scription. When  Henry  Fitzroy  was  created  Earl 
of  Euston  it  was  understood  that  he  was  one  day  to 
occupy  the  "  palace "  there  with  his  bride.  But 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  absolutely  refused  to 
put  the  boy  under  Arlington's  charge.  "  Shee  will 
not  part  with  him,"  says  a  contemporary  letter, 
"  nor  cares  for  any  education  other  than  what  nature 
and  herselfe  can  give  him,  which  will  bee  sufficient 
accomplishment  for  a  married  man."  The  last 
statement  v/e  may  take  to  be  an  echo  of  the  Duchess's 
own  words.  Whether  she  gained  the  day  or  not  does 
not  appear. 

For  some  considerable  time  now  the  Duchess's 
name  is  only  heard  of  in  connection  with  the  affairs 
of  her  children.  Two  of  these,  in  spite  of  their 
tender  years,  were  already  married.  In  1674  two 
more  weddings  took  place,  those  of  Anne,  aged 
thirteen,  and  Charlotte,  aged  nearly  ten.  The 
husbands  provided  for  them  were  Thomas  Lennard, 
fifteenth  Lord  Dacre,  soon  created  Earl  of  Sussex,^ 
and  Edward  Henry  Lee,  just  made  Earl  of  Lichfield, 
both  of  them  Gentlemen  of  the  Bedchamber  to  His 
Majesty.  An  account  survives  of  the  Dacre  wedding, 
which  took  place  at  Hampton  Court  on  August  2nd. 
From  it  we  learn  how  Dacre  was  brought  at  nine  in 

^  His    mother    was    Elizabeth    Bayning,   a    daughter    of  the   first 
Viscount  and  therefore  a  sister  to  Barbara's  mother. 


2o6  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

the  morning  to  the  Duchess's  apartments,  and  found 
the  child-bride  awaiting  him  there.  A  little  after 
noon  the  King  arrived  from  Windsor  and  led  the 
procession  from  the  Duchess's,  through  the  Gallery, 
to  the  ante-camera  of  his  own  bedchamber.  Charles 
walked  first,  holding  the  bride's  hand ;  next  came  the 
bridegroom,  next  the  Duke  of  York  and  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  and  then  Prince  Rupert,  followed  hy 
the  ladies  of  the  two  contracting  families.  The 
ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Bishop  of  Oxford, 
in  the  presence  of  those  already  named,  together 
with  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  "Don  Carlos " — 
Charles's  natural  son  by  Catherine  Peg,  now  Lady 
Green,  who  died  at  Tangier  five  years  later — the 
Earls  of  Suftolk  (as  Barbara's  uncle  by  marriage),  Ar- 
lington, Danby,  and  the  Lord  Keeper  Finch.  The 
service  being  over,  the  King  kissed  the  bride,  and 
"  by  and  by  the  bride-cake  was  broken  over  her  head  " 
— a  proceeding  which  doubtless  sounds  more  alarming 
than  in  reality  it  was.  Finally  there  was  a  dinner 
in  the  Presence  Chamber,  at  which  the  King  had 
the  bride  on  his  right  and  her  mother  on  his  left. 
Soon  after  the  wedding  the  little  Countess  was 
assigned  rooms  in  Whitehall  Palace,  the  same  suite 
which  had  once  been  her  mother's. 

There  is  no  similar  account  of  Charlotte  Fitzroy's 
wedding  with  the  Earl  of  Lichfield,  and  owing  to  her 
very  tender  age  this  daughter  was  kept  by  her  mother 
to  live  with  her  for  several  years  more.  The  King, 
however,  provided  for  both  girls  with  great  generosity, 
giving  a  dowry  of  _^20,ooo  with  Anne  and  one  of 


THE    PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     207 

^18,000  with  Charlotte,  and  allowing  their  husbands 
a  pension  of  £2000  a  year  each.  He  was  also  called 
upon  to  pay,  ten  years  later,  some  large  sums  in- 
curred for  the  wedding  trousseaus  by  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland.  Among  the  Secret  Services  of  Charles  II 
and  James  II  in  1684-5  occur  a  number  of  entries,  of 
which  the  following,  on  July  19th,  and  December 
1 2th,  1684,  are  typical  : 

"  To  Richard  Bokenham,  in  full,  for 
several  parcells  of  gold  and  silver 
lace,  bought  of  W™  Gostling  and 
partners  on  2nd  May  1674  by  the 
Dutchess  of  Cleavland,  for  the 
wedding  cloaths  of  the  Lady  Sussex 
and  Lichfield 646/.  Sj.  6dy 

"  To  John  Dodsworth,  husband  of 
Katherine  Dodsworth,  al's  Eaton, 
adm''  of  the  goods  and  chattels  of 
John  Eaton,  unadministred,  in  part 
of  1,082/.  8j.  lod.  for  lace  and  other 
things  bought  of  the  said  John 
Eaton,  for  the  wedding  cloaths  of 
the  Ladys  Litchfield  and  Sussex  by 
the  Dutchess  of  Cleaveland     .       .     182/.  os.  o^," 

The  entries  prove  that  Charles  ultimately  paid  at 
least  ;£i599  ^^^-  °^-  against  nearly  ^^3000  claimed 
against  the  Duchess  by  five  creditors  in  connection  with 
the  Dacre  and  Lichfield  weddings.  Her  Grace  had 
as  usual  left  her  bills  unpaid. 

The  flow  of  Charles's  generosity  to  the  Duchess  and 
her  children  continued  unabated  by  his  establishment 


2o8  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

of  a  new  mistress  or  by  her  own  flagrant  indiscretions. 
In  October  he  made  her  a  grant,  in  the  names  of  her 
uncles  Grandison  and  Edward  Villiers,  as  so  often 
before,  of  ^^6000  a  year  from  the  excise  revenues,  with 
remainder  to  her  sons  ;  made  grants  from  the  same 
source  of  ;£^3000  a  year  to  each  of  these  and  their  heirs 
male  ;  and  raised  to  the  peerage  the  only  untitled  one 
of  them,  the  eight-year-old  George,  whom  he  created 
Baron  Pontefract,  Viscount  Falmouth,  and  Earl  of 
Northumberland.  In  the  September  of  next  year  he 
promoted  Charles  and  Henry  to  the  rank  of  Dukes, 
of  Southampton  and  Grafton  respectively  ;  a  counter- 
poise to  his  creation  of  the  reigning  mistress's  son 
Duke  of  Richmond  and  Lennox  in  August. 

Barbara  had  therefore  among  her  children  two 
Dukes,  an  Earl,  and  two  Countesses,  all  handsomely 
provided  for.  Only  her  namesake,  the  infant  Barbara, 
reputed  daughter  of  John  Churchill,  was  without  a 
token  of  the  Royal  bounty  ;  and,  boldly  grasping  as 
Lady  Cleveland  was,  perhaps  even  she  could  scarcely 
demand  that  the  King  should  provide  for  this  witness 
to  her  infidelity  as  a  mistress. 

To  the  Duchess's  views  on  the  proper  education  for 
her  children  we  have  already  had  an  allusion  in  connec- 
tion with  Henry  Fitzroy.  Some  interesting  light  on 
her  desires  about  her  other  two  sons  is  shed  by  a 
letter  written  on  September  17th,  1674,  ^7  Humphrey 
Prideaux,  at  that  time  tutor  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford, 
and  afterwards  Dean  of  Norwich,  to  his  friend  John 
Elhs.  Ellis  was  credited  with  being  a  lover  of  the 
Duchess  somewhere  about  this  time.    But  the  worthy 


THE   PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     209 

Prideaux  certainly  shows  no  sign  of  being  aware  of 
the  fact  in  his  letters. 

"  Tuesday  night,"  writes  Prideaux,  "  the  Dutchesse 
of  Cleveland  lodged  here  in  town,  and  sent  for  M"^ 
Dean  to  her  lodgings,  whom  she  treated  with  much 
civility,  and  desired  him  to  take  her  son  into  his  care, 
whom  she  will  send  here  next  weeke,  and  leave  the 
whole  disposal  of  him  to  M"^  Dean,  as  for  the  appoint- 
ing of  his  tutors,  lodgeing,  allowance,  and  all  other 
things  whatsoever.  Her  third  son  was  with  her,  who 
beeing,  she  told  M''  Dean,  born  in  Oxford  among  the 
schollars,  shall  live  some  considerable  time  among 
them,  especially  since  he  is  far  more  apt  to  receive 
instructions  than  his  elder  brother,  whom  she  con- 
fesseth  to  be  a  very  kockish  idle  boy.  The  morneing 
before  she  went  she  sate  at  least  an  hour  in  her  coach, 
that  every  body  might  se  her." 

"  Mr.  Dean  "  is  the  celebrated  Dr.  John  Fell,  whose 
death,  as  bishop  of  Oxford  in  1686,  Evelyn  declared  to 
be  "  an  extraordinary  losse  to  the  poore  church  at  this 
time."  As  on  the  occasions  of  her  former  visits,  so 
now  Barbara  does  not  seem  to  have  impressed  the 
scholars  favourably,  in  spite  of  her  honeyed  Vvords. 
But  Mr.  Dean  accepted  the  charge  of  the  "  kockish 
idle  boy,"  Charles,  Earl,  and  soon  to  be  Duke,  of 
Southampton — a  married  man  of  the  mature  age  of 
fourteen,  it  should  be  remembered.  It  was  arranged 
that  before  he  came  into  residence  he  should  travel 
abroad  for  a  while.  A  tutor  was  selected  for  him  in  the 
person  of  Edward  Bernard,  scholar  of  St.  John's  College, 
with  whom  he  set  out  for  the  Continent  in  the  follow- 


2IO  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

ing  spring.  How  little  to  his  taste  Bernard  found  his 
job  can  be  gathered  in  a  letter  from  Prideaux  to  Ellis 
in  February  1677.  "  My  friend  Mr.  Bernard,  who 
went  into  France  to  attend  upon  the  two  bastards  of 
Cleveland,  hath  been  soe  affronted  and  abused  there 
by  that  insolent  woman  that  he  hath  been  forced  to 
quit  that  imployment  and  return." 

Bernard  apparently  undertook  the  tuition  of  George 
as  well  as  Charles  Fitzroy.  The  latter  came  up  to 
Oxford  in  the  winter  term  of  1675.  "  Harry  Aldrich 
is  to  be  his  tutor,"  writes  Prideaux  ;  "  what  he  will 
get  by  him  I  know  not.  It  is  the  generall  desire  among 
us  that  he  come  not."  A  year  later  he  confirms  his  un- 
favourable expectations  about  the  young  Duke.  He 
"  is  kept  very  orderly,  but  will  ever  be  very  simple, 
and  scarce,  I  believe,  ever  attain  to  the  reputation  of 
not  beeing  a  fool."  We  shall  see  that  Mrs.  Manley, 
when  she  met  the  Duke  about  eighteen  years  later, 
found  the  Oxford  tutor's  prediction  fulfilled. 

In  making  arrangements  for  the  guardianship  of  her 
sons,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  no  doubt  in  mind 
her  often  discussed  withdrawal  from  England  into 
France.  Owing  partly  to  the  fact  that  it  was  now  on 
Portsmouth  rather  than  on  Cleveland  that  the  un- 
friendly public  gaze  was  turned,  and  partly  to  the 
comparative  dearth  of  letters  furnishing  us  with 
intimate  Court  news  in  1675-6,  we  are  without  pre- 
cise information  about  the  exact  circumstances  which 
led  to  the  deposed  mistress's  retirement  nine  years 
after  the  idea  of  her  going  was  first  suggested.  There 
is  no  reason  for  connecting  her  departure  with  the 


THE    PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     211 

arrival  in  England  of  another  celebrated  beauty  at  the 
end  of  1675,  although  the  coincidence  is  remarkable 
in  view  of  the  intimate  association  of  the  new-comer''s 
name  with  those  of  the  Duchesses  of  Castlemaine  and 
Portsmouth  at  the  end  of  King  Charles's  life.  Un- 
doubtedly there  was  a  plot  in  connection  with  the 
introduction  to  Whitehall  of  Hortense  Mancini, 
Duchess  of  Mazarin  ;  but  it  was  directed  against  the 
reigning  mistress,  not  against  her  discarded  rival, 
whose  influence  was  now  no  longer  feared  except  in 
so  far  as  she  was  still  able  to  extract  money  from  the 
Privy  Purse.  Portsmouth,  on  the  other  hand,  had 
been  able  to  compass  the  ruin  of  the  once  all-powerful 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  whose  influence  over  the  King, 
his  cousin  had  never  managed  to  impair  seriously  ; 
and  the  other  leaders  of  the  Cabal  were  on  the  look- 
out for  a  means  of  striking  at  her  supremacy  when  an 
instrument  presented  itself  to  them,  which  may  have 
looked  heaven-sent,  but  was  probably  discovered  by 
the  diabolical  Ralph  Montagu. 

In  the  last  month  of  1675,  Hortense  Mancini 
crossed  the  Channel.  Cardinal  Mazarin's  third  and 
perhaps  most  beautiful  niece  was  not  unknown  to 
Charles.  When  she  was  but  ten  years  old  and  he  was 
still  only  a  king  in  exile  he  had  been  an  unsuccessful 
suitor  for  her  hand.  Now  at  the  age  of  twenty-nine, 
married  for  fifteen  years  to  a  pious  husband  whom  she 
found  most  uncongenial  and  enriched  by  her  uncle's 
will  with  an  enormous  fortune  of  over  a  million  and  a 
half  pounds,  after  wandering  about  Europe  and  in- 
dulging in  the  wildest  exploits  she  came  to  England 


212  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

to  escape  her  husband's  society  and  doubtless  also 
with  other  intentions.  Being  aunt  to  the  young 
Duchess  of  York,  she  was  welcomed  at  Court,  and 
apartments  were  assigned  to  her  at  St.  James's  Palace. 
She  was  soon  the  talk  of  the  day.  On  April  25  th,  1676, 
we  find  Charles  Hatton  writing  to  his  brother  :  "  The 
Dutchesse  of  Portsmouth  is  not  well  :  her  sicknesse, 
it  is  said,  is  encreased  at  somebody's  visiting  the 
Dutchesse  Mazarine  at  my  Lady  Harvey's  house." 
For  the  second  time  my  Lady  Harvey  shows  her  friend- 
ship for  "  somebody  "  when  the  bounds  of  Whitehall 
are  all  too  narrow  for  the  prosecution  of  his  affairs. 

In  September  Evelyn  sups  at  the  Lord  Chamberlain's, 
where  he  meets  "  the  famous  beauty  and  errant  lady  the 
Dutchesse  of  Mazarine,"  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  and 
the  Countess  of  Sussex.  From  other  sources  we  know- 
that  the  brilliant  French  beauty  had  quite  won  the 
heart  of  the  thirteen-year-old  Countess,  to  the  discon- 
tent of  her  husband,  who  took  steps  to  put  an  end  to 
acquaintance.  A  letter  written  by  Lady  Chaworth 
on  November  2nd  of  the  same  year,  speaking  of  Lady 
Sussex,  reports  :  "  They  say  her  husband  and  she  will 
part  unless  she  leave  the  Court  and  be  content  to  live 
to  him  in  the  country,  he  disliking  her  much  converse 
with  Madam  Mazarine  and  the  addresses  she  gets  in 
that  company."  Lord  Sussex  did  not  at  once  take 
her  away  from  Whitehall,  for  we  hear  at  the  end  of 
December  how  "  she  and  Madam  Mazarine  have 
privately  learnt  to  fence,  and  went  downe  into  St. 
James's  Park  the  other  day  with  drawne  swords  under 
their  night  gownes,  which  they  drew  out  and  made 


THE    PORTSMOUTH    SUPREMACY     213 

several  fine  passes,  much  to  the  admiration  of  severall 
men  that  was  lookers-on  in  the  Parke."  A  few  weeks 
later,  however,  the  Countess  is  at  her  husband's  country- 
seat.  Here,  after  a  brief  illness,  she  recovers  and, 
writes  Lady  Cha worth,  is  "  mightily  pleased  with 
fox-hunting  and  hare-hunting,  but  kisses  Madame 
Mazarine's  picture  with  much  affection  still." 

Little  more  than  a  year  later  Anne  was  to  cause  her 
mother  most  furious  pangs  of  jealousy,  which  showed 
that  Lord  Sussex's  fears  of  the  bad  effects  of  the 
addresses  of  the  flighty  young  girl  got  in  the  Duchess 
of  Mazarin's  company  were  not  unfounded.  But  for 
the  present  my  Lady  Cleveland  was  removed  from 
her  daughter's  neighbourhood.  At  some  time  in  1676 
she  had  at  last  betaken  herself  to  Paris.  ^  A  letter 
written  by  Lord  Berkeley  in  Paris  on  April  8th  of  that 
year  mentions  her  as  looking  out  for  a  monastery  in 
which  to  live  during  her  stay  there. 

"  Fair  beauties  of  Whitehall,  give  way, 
Hortensia  does  her  charms  display," 

wrote  St.  Evremond,  the  Duchess  Mazarin's  devoted 
admirer,  who  after  her  death  could  never  hear  her 
name  mentioned  without  tears.  The  Duchess  of 
Cleveland,  in  seeming  anticipation  of  St.  Evremond's 
advice  (for  he  wrote  these  lines  in  a  funeral  panegyric 
upon  his  idol  in  1699),  had  departed  from  a  country 
where  no  further  triumphs  appeared  within  her  power. 

^  A  letter  from  Lady  Chaworth  to  Lord  Roos,  dated  simply  May  4, 
has  been  assigned  to  this  year.  Lady  Chaworth  writes  :  "  Lady 
Cleaveland  is  not,  they  say,  much  satisfied  in  France  because  the 
greatest  ladies  doe  not  visit  her." 


w^ 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    DUCHESS    IN    PARIS 

'ITH  her  removal  to  Paris,  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  entered  upon  what  was  to  prove  a 
very  stormy  period  in  her  life.  By  quitting  England 
she  doubtless  relieved  King  Charles's  mind  of  the 
apprehensions  which  he  always  had  of  a  sudden  out- 
burst of  his  former  mistress's  temper  ;  but  it  was  not 
very  long  before  he  discovered  that  the  Channel  was 
powerless  to  quench  the  flames  of  her  rage.  For  the 
present,  however,  he  was  thankful  and,  as  if  in  proof 
of  his  gratitude,  made  a  new  grant  to  her  of  the  offices 
of  Chief  Steward  of  Hampton  Court  and  Keeper  of 
the  Chace.  This  sounds  a  very  inappropriate  gift, 
but  in  those  days,  when  offices  were  every  day  sold 
with  the  King's  permission,  and  had  a  certain  market 
value,  it  promised  her  a  good  revenue,  which  was 
secured  to  her  for  her  Hfetime  and  after  her  death 
to  her  third  son,  the  Earl  of  Northumberland. 

That  she  was  in  possession  of  ample  funds,  even  in 
spite  of  her  extravagant  ideas  about  the  spending  of 
money,  is  shown  by  her  handsome  gift  now  of  a 
thousand  pounds  to  the  English  nuns  of  the  Convent 
of  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  our  Blessed  Lady 
to  help  them  to  build  a  new  chapel.  This  appears  to 
be  her  only  recorded  present  for  a  religious  purpose, 

214 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  215 

but  she  was  on  excellent  terms  with  the  dignitaries 
of  the  Church  in  France ;  on  too  good  terms,  according 
to  the  scandalous  insinuation  o£  Humphrey  Prideaux. 
In  a  letter  of  which  we  have  already  quoted  part  above, 
Prideaux  writes  to  John  Ellis  on  February  2nd,  1677, 
that  the  "  Dutchess  driveth  a  cunneing  trade  and 
followeth  her  old  imployment  very  hard  there, 
especially  with  the  Arch  Bishop  of  Paris,  who  is  her 
principal  gallant."  The  Archbishop  in  question  was 
Francois  de  Harlay  de  Champvalon,  a  man  who,  dis- 
appointed of  his  ambitions  of  becoming  a  Mazarin, 
was  declared  by  his  critics  to  be  better  with  precept 
than  with  example  where  holiness  of  life  was  con- 
cerned. Madame  de  Sevigne  in  more  than  one  letter 
attacks  Harlay's  private  life.  There  may  therefore 
have  been  some  ground  for  Prideaux's  insinuation. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  as  will  be  seen,  the  Duchess, 
having  rather  unsuccessfully  invoked  his  aid  in  a  diffi- 
cult matter  later  on,  in  her  anger  gave  none  too  good 
a  character  of  him  to  Charles  II. 

Lady  Cleveland  seems  to  have  taken  two  of  her 
daughters  with  her  to  Paris.  Barbara,  who  was  still 
little  more  than  an  infant,  she  placed  with  the  English 
nuns  who  have  been  already  mentioned.  As  for 
Charlotte,  in  February  1677,  at  the  age  of  twelve 
and  a  half,  she  was  remarried  to  the  Earl  of  Lichfield 
and,  in  defiance  of  the  traditions  of  her  family,  made 
him  a  good  wife.  A  favourite  alike  with  her  father 
and  with  her  uncle  James,  she  seems  to  have  deserved 
affection.  She  was  fortunate  in  being  so  early  removed 
from  her  mother's  care. 


2i6  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

In  place  of  Charlotte  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
before  long  had  the  society  of  Anne,  the  perplexed 
Earl  of  Sussex  having  perhaps,  in  despair  of  managing 
his  young  wife,  handed  her  over  to  her  mother's 
charge.  In  December  1677  Lady  Chaworth  writes 
to  her  brother  that  the  Duchess  has  put  her  daughter 
into  a  religious  house,  and  "  she  means  certainly  to 
come  hither  in  the  spring  to  either  ajust  things  better 
between  her  and  her  lord,  or  get  his  consent  that  her 
daughter  may  go  into  orders." 

While  awaiting  the  arrival  of  spring,  the  Duchess 
settled  down  in  Paris  to  amuse  herself.  This  never 
proved  a  difficult  task  to  her.  To  assist  her  she  found 
the  English  Ambassador,  Ralph  Montagu,  brother  of 
the  lady  with  whom  she  had  once  had  so  violent  a 
quarrel.  Montagu  bore  her  no  grudge  for  the  outrage 
against  his  sister  seven  years  ago.  Well  described  by 
Swift  as  being  "  as  arrant  a  knave  as  any  in  his  time,"  he 
crowned  a  chequered  and  treacherous  career  by  being 
made  an  Earl  by  William  of  Orange,  a  Duke  by  Anne. 
His  success  in  obtaining  the  Paris  ambassadorship  from 
Charles  II  was  somewhat  of  a  mystery  to  his  con- 
temporaries at  Court,  but  Lord  Dartmouth  furnishes 
an  explanation.  "  Montagu,"  he  says,  "  told  Sir 
William  Temple  he  designed  to  go  Ambassador  to 
France.  Sir  William  asked  him  how  that  could  be, 
for  he  knew  the  King  did  not  love  him,  and  the  Duke 
[of  York]  hated  him.  '  That's  true,'  said  he,  '  but 
they  shall  do  as  if  they  loved  me.'  Which,  Sir  WilHam 
told,  he  soon  brought  about,  as  he  supposed  by  means 
of  the  ladies,  who  were  always  his  best  friends  for 


THE    DUCHESS    IN    PARIS  217 

some  perfections  that  were  hid  from  the  rest  of  the 
world." 

For  all  we  know,  Lady  Castlemaine  may  have  been 
one  of  the  ladies  who  helped  Montagu  to  his  post  in 
Paris  in  1669.  Their  acquaintance  was  now  soon  very- 
intimate,  as  all  the  world  noticed  and  as  is  shown  by 
two  short  messages  written  by  her  to  him  and  still 
preserved.  They  run  as  follows,  the  original  spelling 
being  retained  :  ^ 

"  friday.  before  I  reseued  yours  I  was  in  expectation 
of  seing  you  to  daye,  but  the  ocation  that  hinders  your 
comming  I  am  extremly  sorry  for,  being  realy  and 
kindly  consarned  for  you  and  all  that  relats  to  you. 
I  doe  ashuer  you  I  am  as  much  afflicted  for  your  garls 
ilnes  as  if  she  ware  my  one,  and  shall  be  as  unease 

^  The  fearful  spelling  seems  to  prove  that  Lord  Chesterfield,  as  has 
been  suggested  above,  when  he  transcribed  Barbara  Villiers's  youthful 
love-letters  in  his  celebrated  collection,  revised  the  orthography.  For 
had  Barbara  at  fifteen  spelt  so  well  as  she  is  made  to  in  those  letters 
she  could  surely  not  have  spelt  quite  so  badly  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven. 
But  the  mere  fact  that  she  should  make  such  gross  errors  is  not  sur- 
prising. The  ladies  of  the  day  were  truly  astonishing  in  this  respect  ; 
not  only  the  English  ladies,  but  the  French  also.  See,  for  instance,  a 
letter  from  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  to  Henry  Sidney  on  March 
8th,  1689  (quoted  in  Letters  to  Sir  Joseph  Williamson,  II,  19).  Nor 
were  many  of  the  gentlemen  much  better.  There  survives  a 
humorous  letter  to  Williamson  by  Sir  Nicholas  Armorer  in  October 
1673,  of  which  one  sentence  runs  :  "This  weeke  is  arrived  your  good 
frinde  Mauris  Justace  [Maurice  Eustace],  to  the  great  joye  of  Miss 
Lockett,  and  I  thinke  off  few  els  off  our  nation,  that  knows  his  late 
proceedings  ;  for  take  him  for  what  you  pleasse  heare,  I  know  what 
hee  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  watter  ;  hce  has  beene  too  coning  for 
himselfe,  and  the  Dutches  of  Cleveland  will  be  too  hard  for  him."  It 
was  a  rare  accomplishment  to  be  able  to  spell  in  one's  own  language  or 
to  speak  another.  Cominges,  French  Ambassador  at  Whitehall,  never 
knew  a  word  of  English. 


21 8  MY    LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

till  I  heare  she  is  better  ;  I  was  yesterdaye  at  Paris, 
but  not  hauing  the  Pleausher  of  seing  you  thar  mayd 
me  dislik  it  more  then  euer." 

"  tusday.  I  will  yeld  the  disscret  part  to  you  thoue 
not  the  other  for  notwithstanding  the  but,  I  doe 
ashuer  you  the  ten  days  will  be  more  griuos  to  me 
then  to  you." 

The  affair  proceeded  very  smoothly  for  some  time, 
during  which  Montagu,  if  v/hat  the  lady  says  after 
the  quarrel  is  to  be  believed,  made  her  the  confidante 
of  his  nefarious  schemes  and  his  contemptuous  opinions 
of  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  York.  Then  the  Duchess 
aroused  her  lover's  jealousy.  The  first  Gentleman  of 
the  Chamber  to  Louis  XIV  was  a  certain  Alexis  Henry, 
Marquis  de  Chastillon  or  Chatillon,  who  is  described 
to  Lord  Hatton  by  his  sister  as  a  person  of  quality, 
young  and  handsome,  but  with  no  estate.  This  young 
man  was  attracted  by  the  Duchess,  or  she  by  him,  and 
Montagu  became  aware  of  the  intrigue.  It  seems 
probable  that  he  gave  information  of  it  to  White- 
hall even  before  he,  by  some  means,  got  possession  of 
the  compromising  letters  from  the  lady  of  which  we 
shall  hear  below.  Now  in  the  spring  of  1678  the 
Duchess  paid  her  intended  visit  to  England,  leav- 
ing her  daughter  Anne  in  a  nunnery  at  Con- 
flans,  where  also  was  the  country-seat  of  the  Arch- 
bishop, near,  but  outside  the  walls  of,  Paris.  She 
parted  on  friendly  terms  with  Montagu,  not  being 
aware  yet  of  his  betrayal  of  her  intrigue  with  Chatillon; 
while  he,  on  his  part,  was  supremely  unconscious  of 
the  pit  he  was  digging  for  himself.     This  is  evident 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  219 

from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  from  Paris,  some  time 
in  May,  to  one  of  his  very  numerous  cousins,  Henry 
Sidney,  afterwards  Earl  of  Romney.  "  I  am  glad  to 
hear  my  Lady  Cleveland  looked  so  well,"  said  Montagu. 
"  I  do  not  wonder  at  it.  I  will  always  lay  on  her  side 
against  everybody.  I  am  a  little  scandalised  you  have 
been  but  once  to  see  her — pray  make  your  court  of  tener 
for  my  sake,  for  no  man  can  be  more  obliged  to  another 
than  I  am  to  her  on  all  occasions,  and  tell  her  I  say 
so,  and,  as  my  Lord  Berkeley  says,  give  her  a  pat 
from  me.  If  you  keep  your  word  to  come  in  June,  I 
fancy  you  will  come  together,  and  I  shall  not  be  ill 
pleased  to  see  the  two  people  in  the  world  of  both 
sexes  I  love  and  esteem  the  most." 

Who  could  have  been  more  unsuspicious  of  ruin 
than  the  Ambassador  at  this  moment  ?  His  eyes  were 
very  soon  opened.  The  Duchess  returned  to  Paris 
earlier  than  she  was  expected,  indeed  before  the  end 
of  May,  but  with  no  "  pat  "  for  Montagu.  On  the 
contrary,  she  dealt  him  the  hardest  blow  he  had  ever 
received.  In  a  letter  dated  July  17th,  1678,  Mary 
Hatton,  who  was  living  in  a  nunnery  in  Paris,  wrote  to 
her  brother  : 

"  What  I  have  to  acquaint  you  withall  of  Paris  news 
is  our  cosin  Montagues  being  gon  last  Monday  post 
towards  Ingland,  opon  my  Lord  Sunderland's  being 
sent  hither  ambassador,  which  bussness  they  say  my 
Lady  Cleavland  has  intrigued,  out  of  revenge  to  the 
ambass.  for  being  soe  jealous  of  her  for  one  Chevalier 
Chatillon  as  to  wright  it  wheire  he  thought  it  might 
doe  her  most  prejudice,  which  she  being  advertised  of. 


220  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

and  attributing  to  it  the  cold  reception  she  found  when 
she  was  laitly  in  Ingland,  has,  as  they  say,  acussed  him 
of  not  being  faithfull  to  his  master  in  the  imployment 
he  gave  him  here  ;  to  which  there  is  another  par- 
ticular that  dus  much  agravate  her,  and  that  is  that, 
whillest  she  was  in  Ingland,  the  ambas.  was  every  day 
with  her  daughter  Sussex,  which  has  ocationed  such 
jealousy  of  all  sides  that,  for  the  saifty  of  my  Lady 
Sussex,  it  is  reported  the  ambass.  advised  her  to  a 
nunnery,  and  made  choice  of  Belle  Chase  for  her, 
where  she  is  at  present  and  will  not  see  her  mother." 

Another  letter  to  Lord  Hatton,  from  his  brother 
Charles,  shows  that  Montagu  had  reached  London 
before  July  nth  to  vindicate  himself  against  accusa- 
tions brought  against  him  by  the  Duchesses  of  Ports- 
mouth and  Cleveland,  from  which  it  looks  as  if  Her 
Grace  of  Cleveland  in  her  fury  condescended  to  make 
common  cause  with  her  supplanter.  But  we  will  now 
let  Barbara  speak  for  herself. 

Two  extremely  long  letters  addressed  by  her  to 
Charles  after  her  return  to  Paris  have  survived  the 
destruction  of  time  and  are  preserved,  the  first  among 
the  Harleian  MSS.,  the  second  among  the  British 
Museum  Additional  MSS.  Both  are  so  extraordinary 
and  give  so  vivid  a  picture  of  the  writer's  mind  that 
it  seems  impossible  to  mutilate  or  paraphrase  them. 
With  a  hope,  therefore,  that  the  reader  will  display 
sufficient  patience  to  digest  them  as  they  stand,  we 
give  them  in  their  entirety.  It  may  assuredly  be  said 
that  there  is  not  their  like  in  the  correspondence  of 
kings. 


THE    DUCHESS    IN    PARIS  221 

The  first,  which  is  dated  "  Paris,  Tuesday  28  78," 
i.e.  May  28th,  1678,  must  have  been  sent  off  almost  im- 
mediately after  the  Duchess's  arrival,  as  soon  as  she 
discovered  Montagu's  capture  of  her  letters  to  Chatil- 
lon  (at  least  one  of  which  was  obviously  written  by  her 
when  on  her  visit  to  England),  and  runs  as  follows  : 

"  I  was  never  so  surprized  in  my  hoUe  life-time,  as 
I  was  at  my  comming  hither,  to  find  my  Lady  Sussex 
gone  from  my  house  &  monestrey  where  I  left  her, 
and  this  letter  from  her,  which  I  here  send  you  the 
copy  of.  I  never  in  my  holle  lifetime  heard  of  suche 
government  of  herself  as  She  has  had,  since  I  went 
into  England.  She  has  never  been  in  the  monestrey 
two  dales  together,  but  every  day  gone  out  with  the 
embassador  ;  and  has  often  layen  four  dales  together 
at  my  house,  &  sent  for  her  meat  to  the  Embassador, 
he  being  allwaies  with  her  till  five  a'clock  in  y^  morn- 
ing, they  two  shut  up  together  alone,  and  w^  not  let 
my  maistre  d'hostel  wait,  nor  any  of  my  servants, 
onely  the  Embassadors.  This  has  made  so  great  a  noise 
at  Paris,  that  she  is  now  the  holle  discours.  I  am  so 
much  afiiicted  that  I  can  hardly  write  this  for  crying, 
to  see  that  a  child  that  I  doated  on  as  I  did  on  her, 
sh«*  make  so  ill  a  return,  &  join  with  the  worst  of  men 
to  ruin  me.  For  sure  never  any  malice  was  like  the 
Embassador's,  that  onely  because  I  w^  not  answer  to 
his  Love,  &  the  importunities  he  made  to  me,  was 
resolv'd  to  ruin  me.  I  hope  y^  majesty  will  yet  have 
that  justice  &  consideration  for  me,  that  tho  I  have 
done  a  foolish  action,  you  will  not  let  me  be  ruined 
by  y«  most  abominable  man.  I  do  confess  to  you 
that  I  did  write  a  foolish  letter  to  the  Chevalier  de 
Chatilion,  w^^   letter   I   sent  enclosed  to  Madam  de 


222  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

Pallas,  and  sent  hers  in  a  Packet  I  sent  to  Lady  Sussex 
by  Sir  Henry  Tychborn  ;  w^^  letter  she  has  either 
given  to  y^  embassador,  or  else  he  had  it  by  his  man, 
to  whom  Sir  Harry  Tychborn  gave  it  to,  not  finding 
my  Lady  Sussex.  But  as  yet  I  doe  not  know  w^^  of  the 
waies  he  had  it,  but  I  shall  know  as  I  have  spoke  w^'^ 
Sir  Harry  Tychborn.  But  the  letter  he  has,  and  I 
doubt  not  but  that  he  either  has  or  will  send  it  to 
you.  Now  all  I  have  to  say  for  myself  is,  that  you 
know,  as  to  love,  one  is  not  mistriss  of  one's  self,  & 
that  you  ought  not  to  be  offended  w**^  me,  since  all 
things  of  ys  nature  is  at  an  end  w*^  you  and  I ;  so  that 
I  could  do  you  no  prejudice.  Nor  will  you,  I  hope, 
follow  the  advice  of  y^  ill  man,  who  in  his  hart,  I  know, 
hates  you,  &  were  it  for  his  interest  w^  ruine  you  too 
if  he  could.  For  he  has  neither  conscience  nor  honour, 
and  has  several  times  told  me,  that  in  his  hart  he 
despised  you  and  y^  Brother  ;  and  that  for  his  part, 
he  wished  w^^  all  his  hart  that  the  Parliament  w''  send 
you  both  to  travell,  for  you  were  a  dull  governable 
Fool,  and  the  Duke  a  willfuU  Fool.  So  that  it  was  yet 
better  to  have  you  than  him,  but  that  you  allwaies 
chose  a  greater  beast  than  y^self  to  govern  you.  And 
w°  I  was  come  over,  he  brought  me  two  letters  to 
bring  to  you,  w'^^  he  read  both  to  me  before  he  seal'd 
them.  The  one  was  a  man's,  that  he  sayd  you  had 
great  faith  in,  for  that  he  had  several  times  foretold 
things  to  you  that  were  of  consequence,  and  that  you 
believed  him  in  all  things,  like  a  changeling  as  you 
were.  And  that  now  he  had  writ  you  word,  that  in  a 
few  months  the  King  of  France,  or  his  son,  were 
threatned  w"^  death,  or  at  least  a  great  fit  of  sickness, 
in  w'^^  they  w^  be  in  great  danger,  if  they  did  not  dye  ; 
and   that   therefore  he  counsell'd  you  to  defer   any 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  223 

resolutions  of  war  or  peace  till  some  months  were 
past ;  for  that,  if  this  happen'd,  it  w"^  make  a  great 
change  in  France.  The  Embassador,  after  he  had 
read  this  to  me,  sayd,  '  Now  the  good  of  this  is,'  says 
he,  '  that  I  can  do  w*  I  will  w^^  this  man  ;  for  he  is 
poor,  &  a  good  summe  of  money  will  make  him  write 
w^ever  I  will.'  So  he  proposed  to  me  that  he  &  I 
should  join  together  in  the  ruining  my  Ld  Treasurer 
and  the  Dutchess  of  Portsmouth,  which  might  be  done 
thus.  The  man,  tho  he  was  infirm  and  ill,  sh*^  go 
into  England,  and  there,  after  having  been  a  little 
time,  to  sollicite  you  for  money  ;  for  that  you  were 
so  base,  that  tho  you  employd  him,  you  let  him 
starve.  So  that  he  was  obliged  to  give  him  50  11.,  & 
that  the  man  had  writ  several  times  to  you  for  money. 
O,  says  he,  w^^  he  is  in  England,  he  shall  tell  the 
King  things  that  he  foresees  will  infallibly  ruin  him  ; 
&  so  wish  those  to  be  removed,  as  having  an  ill  star, 
that  w*^  be  unfortunate  to  you  if  they  were  not 
removed  :  but  if  that  were  done,  he  was  confident 
you  would  have  the  gloriousest  reign  that  ever  was. 
This,  says  he,  I  am  sure  I  can  order  so,  as  to  bring  to 
a  good  efi^ect,  if  you  will.  And  in  the  mean  time, 
I  will  try  to  get  Secretary  Coventry's  Place,  w''^  he 
had  a  mind  to  part  with,  but  not  to  Sir  Will""  Temple, 
because  he  is  the  Treasurer's  creature,  and  he  hates 
the  Treasurer  ;  and  I  have  already  employ'd  my  sister 
to  talk  w**^  M""  Cook,  and  to  send  him  to  engage  M'" 
Coventry  not  to  part  with  it  as  yet,  and  he  has  assured 
my  Lady  Harvey  he  will  not.  And  my  L'^  Treasurer's 
lady  and  M""  Bertie  are  both  of  them  desirous  I  sh<^ 
have  it.  And  vv"^  I  have  it,  I  will  be  damn'd  if  I  do 
not  quickly  get  to  be  Lord  Treasurer  ;  and  then  you 
&  y^  children  shall  find  such  a  friend  as  never  was. 


224  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

And  for  the  King,  I  will  find  a  way  to  furnish  him  so 
easily  with  money  for  his  pocket  &  his  wenches,  that 
we  will  quickly  out  Bab.  May,  &  lead  the  King  by  the 
nose.'  So  when  I  had  heard  him  out,  I  told  him  I 
thank'd  him,  but  that  I  w^  not  meddle  in  any  such 
thing  ;  and  that,  for  my  part,  I  had  no  malice  to  my 
Lady  Portsmouth,  or  the  Treasurer,  and  therefore  I 
would  never  be  in  any  Plot  to  destroy  them,  but  that 
I  found  the  character  the  world  gave  of  him  was  true  ; 
which  was,  that  the  Devil  was  not  more  designing  than 
he  was.  And  that  I  wonder'd  at  it  ;  for  that  sure  all 
these  things  working  in  his  brains  must  make  him 
very  uneasy,  and  w*^  at  last  make  him  mad.  'Tis 
possible  you  may  think  I  say  all  this  out  of  malice. 
'Tis  true  he  has  urged  me  beyond  all  patience  ;  but 
what  I  tell  you  here  is  most  true  ;  &  I  will  take  the 
Sacrament  of  it  when  ever  you  please.  'Tis  certain  I 
would  not  have  been  so  base  as  to  have  informed 
against  him  for  what  he  sayd  before  me,  had  he  not 
provoked  me  to  it  in  this  violent  way  that  he  has. 
There  is  no  ill  thing  that  he  has  not  done  me,  and 
that  without  any  provocation  of  mine,  but  that  I 
would  not  love  him.  Now,  as  to  what  relates  to  my 
Daughter  Sussex,  &  her  behaviour  to  me,  I  must  con- 
fess that  afflicts  me  beyond  expression,  &  will  do  much 
more,  if  what  she  has  done  be  by  your  orders.  For 
tho  I  have  an  intire  submission  to  your  will,  and  will 
not  complain  whatever  you  inflict  upon  me,  yet  I 
cannot  think  you  would  have  brought  things  to  this 
extremity  with  me,  &  not  have  it  in  your  nature  ever 
to  do  no  cruel  things  to  any  thing  living.  I  hope 
therefore  you  will  not  begin  with  me  ;  and  if  the 
Embassador  has  not  rec**  his  orders  from  you,  that 
you  will  severely  reprehend  him  for  this  inhumane 


THE   DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  225 

proceeding.  Besides,  he  has  done  what  you  ought  to 
be  very  angry  with  him  for ;  for  he  has  been  with  the 
King  of  France,  &  told  him  that  he  had  intercepted 
Letters  of  mine  by  your  order,  who  had  been  informed 
that  there  was  a  kindness  between  me  and  the  Chevalier 
de  Chatilion,  &  therefore  you  bid  him  take  a  course  in 
it,  &  stop  my  Letters  ;  which  accordingly  he  has  done. 
And  that  upon  this  you  order'd  him  to  take  my 
children  from  me,  &  to  remove  my  Lady  Sussex  to 
another  monastery.  And  that  you  were  resolved  to 
stop  all  my  Pensions,  &  never  have  any  regard  to  me 
in  any  thing.  And  that  if  he  w^  oblige  your  Majesty, 
he  sh<*  forbid  the  Chevalier  de  Chatilion  ever  seeing 
me,  upon  the  displeasure  of  losing  his  Place,  &  being 
forbid  the  Court ;  for  that  he  was  sure  you  expected 
this  from  him.  Upon  which  the  King  told  him  that 
he  could  not  do  anything  of  this  nature,  for  that 
this  was  a  private  matter,  &  not  for  him  to  take  notice 
of.  And  that  he  could  not  imagine  that  you  ought  to 
be  so  angry,  or  indeed  be  at  all  concerned  ;  for  that 
all  the  World  knew,  that  now  all  things  of  Gallantry 
were  at  an  end  with  you  and  I  ;  that  being  so,  &  so 
publick,  he  did  not  see  why  you  sh^  be  offended  at  my 
Loveing  any  body.  That  it  was  a  thing  so  common 
nowadays  to  have  a  Gallantry,  that  he  did  not  wonder 
at  any  thing  of  this  nature.  And  when  he  saw  the 
King  take  the  thing  thus,  he  told  him  that  if  he  w<^  not 
be  severe  to  the  Chevalier  de  Chatilion  upon  your 
account,  he  supposed  he  would  be  so  upon  his  own,  for 
that  in  the  letters  he  had  discoverd,  he  found  that  the 
Chevalier  had  proposed  to  me  the  engageing  of  you  in 
the  mariage  of  the  Dauphin  and  Madamoselle,^  and 

^   Marie-Louise,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  therefore 
niece  to  Charles  IL 

Q 


226  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

that  was    my  greatest    busyness   in   England.      That 
before  I  went  over,  I  had  spoke  to  him  of  the  thing  & 
would  have  ingaged  him  in  it ;   but  that  he  refused  it, 
for  that  he  knew  very  well  the  indifference  you  had 
whether  it  were  or  no,  &  how  little  you  cared  how 
Madamemoselle  was  married.     That  since  I  went  into 
England  'twas  possible  I  might  engage  somebody  or 
other  in  this  matter  to  press  it  to  you,  but  that  he 
knew  very  well,  that  in  your  hart  you  cared  not  whether 
it  was  or  no,  that  this  busyness  setting  on  foot  by  the 
ChevaHer.    Upon  which  the  King  told  him,  that  if  he 
w^  shew  him  any  Letters  of  the  Chevalier  de  Chatillon 
to  that  purpose,  he  sh^  then  know  what  he  had  to  say 
to  him ;   but  that  till  he  saw  those  Letters,  he  w'J  not 
punish  him  without  a  proof  for  what  he  did.     Upon 
which  the  Embassador  shewd  a  letter,  which  he  pre- 
tended one  part  of  it  was  a  Double  Entendre.  The  King 
said  he  c^  not  see  that  there  was  any  thing  relating  to 
it,  &  so  left  him,  &  said  to  a  Person  that  was  there, 
'  Sure  the  Embassador  was  the  worst  man  that  ever 
was,   for   because   my  Lady  Cleveland  will   not   love 
him,  he  strives  to  ruine  her  the  basest  in  the  world, 
and  would  have  me  sacrifice  the  Chevalier  de  Chatillon 
to  his  revenge,  which  I  shall  not  do  till  I  see  better 
proofs  of  his  having  medled  with  the  marriage  of  the 
Dauphin   and   Madamoselle   than   any   yet   that    the 
Embassador  has  shewed  me.'    This,  methinks,  is  what 
you  cannot  but  be  offended  at,  and  I  hope  you  will 
be   offended   with   him  for  his  whole  proceeding  to 
me,  &  let  the  world  see  that  you  will  never  counte- 
nance the  actions  of  so  base  &  ill  a  man.    I  had  forgot 
to  tell  you,  that  he  told  the  King  of  France,  that 
many  people  had  reported  that  he  made  love  to  me, 
but  that  there  was  nothing  of  it,  for  he  had  too  much 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  227 

respect  for  you  to  think  of  any  such  thing.  As  for 
my  Lady  Sussex,  I  hope  you  will  think  fit  to  send  for 
her  over,  for  she  is  now  mightily  discours'd  of  for  the 
Embassador,  If  you  will  not  believe  me  in  this,  make 
inquiry  into  the  thing,  &  you  will  finde  it  to  be  true. 
I  have  desired  M^  Kemble  to  give  you  this  letter,  & 
to  discourse  with  you  more  at  large  upon  this  matter, 
to  know  your  resolution,  &  whether  I  may  expect  that 
justice  &  Goodness  from  you  which  all  the  world  does. 
I  promise  you,  that  for  my  conduct  it  shall  be  such, 
as  that  you  nor  nobody  shall  have  occasion  to  blame 
me  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  be  just  to  what  you  said  to 
me,  which  was  at  my  House,  when  you  told  me  you 
had  letters  of  mine  ;  you  said,  '  Madam,  all  that  I 
ask  of  you,  for  your  own  sake,  is,  live  so  for  the  future 
as  to  make  the  least  noise  you  can,  &  I  care  not  who 
you  love.'  Oh  !  this  noise  that  is,  had  never  been, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  Embassador's  malice.  I  cannot 
forbear  once  again  saying,  I  hope  you  will  not  gratify 
his  malice  in  my  ruine." 

Before  we  give  the  second  letter,  it  is  advisable 
to  explain  the  allusion  in  the  first  to  the  man  whom 
Charles  "  had  great  faith  in."  According  to  Burnet, 
"  the  King  had  ordered  Montagu  ...  to  find  out 
an  astrologer,  of  whom  it  was  no  wonder  he  had 
a  good  opinion,  for  he  had  long  before  his  restoration 
foretold  that  he  should  enter  London  on  the  29th  of 
May,  1660.  He  was  yet  alive,  and  Montagu  found  him 
out,  and  saw  that  he  was  capable  of  being  corrupted, 
so  he  resolved  to  prompt  him  to  send  the  King 
such  hints  as  could  serve  his  own  ends ;  and  he  was 
so  bewitched  with  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  that 
he  trusted  her  with  this  secret.     She,  growing  jealous 


228  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

of  a  new  amour,  took  all  the  ways  she  could  to  ruin 
him,  reserving  this  of  the  astrologer  for  her  last 
shift ;  and  by  it  she  compassed  her  ends.  For  Mon- 
tagu was  entirely  lost  upon  it  with  the  King,  and 
came  over  without  being  recalled." 

Certainly  the  letter  of  May  28th  was  well  calculated 
to  inflame  the  mind  of  Charles  II  against  a  man 
whom  already  he  did  not  love,  when  he  heard  him- 
self described  by  him  as  "  a  changeling "  (!)  and 
"  a  dull  governable  fool,"  who  always  chose  a  greater 
fool  than  himself  to  govern  him.  How  satisfactory 
to  the  wrathful  Duchess  was  his  reply  to  her  demands 
can  be  gathered  from  her  second  letter,  dated  "  Paris, 
friday  3  a  clocke  in  the  afternoun  "  : 

"  I  rescued  your  Ma*^  letter  last  night  with  more 
joy  then  I  can  expres,  for  this  prosiding  of  yours  is 
so  jenoros  and  obliging  that  I  must  be  the  werst 
wooman  alive  ware  I  not  sensible  ;  no  S'^  my  hart  and 
soule  is  toucht  with  this  genoriste  of  yours  and 
you  shall  allways  find  that  my  conduct  to  the  world 
and  behavior  to  your  childeren  shall  allways  render 
me  worthy  of  your  protecktion  and  favor,  this  pray 
be  confydent  of ;  I  did  this  morning  send  your 
letter  to  my  Lady  Sussex  by  my  Jentleman  of  the 
hors  who  when  he  cam  to  the  grat  asket  for  her : 
her  wooman  cam  and  told  him  her  lady  was  aslep  : 
he  sayd  he  would  stay  till  she  was  awake,  for  that  he 
had  a  letter  to  give  into  her  owne  hands  from  the 
King  and  that  he  would  not  deliver  it  but  to  her 
self  :  her  wooman  went  into  her  and  stayd  above 
half  an  hower,  which  I  beleve  was  whilest  she  sent 
to  the  Embasodor,  for  he  cam  in  as  Lachosse  was  thar  : 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  229 

her  wooman  cam  owet  and  sayd  that  her  lady  had 
binne  ill  to  days  and  had  conultion  fits  and  knue 
nobody  :  upon  which  Lachosse  said  that  since  she 
was  in  that  condition  he  would  carry  backe  the 
letter  to  me  :  the  wooman  ansard  that  if  he  would 
leave  the  letter  with  her  she  would  give  it  her  lady 
when  she  came  to  her  self  but  that  nowe  she  knue 
nobody  and  calld  all  that  ware  abowet  her  my  Lord 
Embasodor  and  my  Lady,  and  spocke  of  nothing 
but  them  ;  as  soone  as  I  heard  this  I  sent  to  the  Arch 
Bishop  of  Paris  to  let  him  knowe  that  haveng  sent 
to  Bellchas  to  specke  with  my  daughtar  and  to  send 
her  a  letter  of  consaren  from  the  King  I  heard  that 
she  was  extrem  ill  and  could  not  com  to  the  Parloyer, 
wherefor  I  desiered  he  would  send  to  the  Abbes  to 
let  one  of  my  weemen  goe  in  to  speck  with  her  : 
he  immedietly  writ,  on  which  I  sent  Pigon  ^  with  : 
when  she  went  to  the  Abbcsse  she  sayd  that  my  Lady 
Sussex  was  not  so  ill  as  that  thar  was  a  nesesety  of 
opening  the  dores  of  the  monestry,  and  that  if  she 
would  com  at  seven  a  clocke  at  night  my  Lady  Sussex 
would  be  at  the  Parloyer,  but  that  nowe  she  could 
not  com  becaus  she  had  binne  just  let  blood,  and 
that  for  comming  in  she  would  not  permit  her  : 
uppon  this  I  sent  agan  to  the  Archbishop  and  sent 
your  letter  to  him,  which  I  mad  to  be  put  into  french 
that  he  might  se  why  I  prest  him  so  earnestly,  and 
desierd  him  to  send  a  more  positive  command  to 
the  Abbes  :  he  read  the  letter  and  sayd  he  was  very 
much  surprisd  but  he  would  send  a  Prist  along  with 
my  wooman  and  him  to  specke  to  the  Abbess,  but 
that  Prist  should  goe  in  his  coach  :  all  this  was  to 

^   Mrs.    Pigeon    (?),    evidently    a    successor    to   "her   line    woman 
Willson  "  of  whom  Pepys  tells  us. 


230  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

gane  time  that  he  might  send  as  I  beleve  to  my 
Lady  Sussex  whoe  he  visits  very  often :  and  this 
monestry  whar  she  is  is  cald  the  Bishops  monestry 
and  has  none  o£  the  best  reputations  ;  when  Pigion 
cam  to  the  monestry  the  Prist  talket  with  the  Abbess 
abowet  half  an  hower  and  then  cam  to  her  and  told 
her  that  my  Lady  Sussex  was  at  the  Parloyer  :  she 
went  thar  and  found  my  Lady  Sussex  siting  thar  with 
the  Embasodor  :  she  gave  her  the  leter  :  the  Embasodor 
turnd  to  her  and  told  her,  '  M^s  Pigion,  the  King, 
has  som  of  your  letters.'  She  made  him  a  cursy  and 
sayd,  '  has  he,  my  Lord,  I  am  very  glad  of  it.'  My 
Lady  Sussex  sayd,  '  M^s  Pigion,  if  the  King  knue  the 
reasons  I  have  for  what  I  have  don  he  would  be  more 
angre  with  my  lady  then  with  me,  for  that  I  can 
justyfy  to  the  King  and  the  world  why  I  have  don 
this,  and  though  I  have  conseald  it  all  this  whill 
owet  of  respect  to  my  Lady,  I  will  satisfy  the  King, 
and  I  dowct  not  but  he  will  turne  his  angre  from 
me  to  my  Lady.'  Pigion  told  her,  '  these  ware  thinges 
she  did  not  enter  into  and  that  she  had  only  orderes 
from  me  to  aske  her  for  the  letter  when  she  had  read 
it  that  I  might  sattisfy  pepell  that  it  was  not  by  the 
Kinges  order  she  was  thar.'  She  sayd  '  noe,  she  would 
not  give  the  leter  backe ' :  uppon  which  the  Embasodor 
stood  up  and  sayd,  '  my  Lady  Sussex,  doe  not  give 
the  letter  backe ' :  '  No,  my  Lord,'  says  she,  '  I  doe 
not  intend  it '  :  with  that  the  Embasodor  rise  up 
and  sayd,  '  M^^  Pigion,  doe  you  knowe  whoe  my 
Lady  Sussex  is  that  you  should  dare  to  dissput  withe 
her  the  delivering  the  leter.'  She  sayd,  '  my  Lord,  I 
hop  I  have  don  nothing  unbecomming  the  respect 
I  aught  to  pay  my  Lady  Sussex.'  '  Yes,'  says  he, 
'  you   se   she   is   not   well   and   you   argue  with   her.' 


THE    DUCHESS    IN    PARIS  231 

*  My  Lord,'  says  she,  '  I  only  aske  her  for  the  leter 
again   as   my  Lady  commanded   me.'      '  The   King,' 
says  he,  '  has  Letters  both  of  yours  and  your  ladys.' 
'  My  Lord,'  says  she,  '  what  letters  I  have  writ  I  doe 
not  at  all  aprehend  the   Kinges   seing,   and  for   my 
Lady  she  is  very  well  inforamd  of  all  that  is  past.' 
'  Mes  Pigion,'   says  he,  '  my  Lady  Sussex  being  the 
Kinges   daughter  it  was  not  fit  for  her  to  live  with 
my  Lady  Duchess  whoe  lead  so  infamos  a  life,  and 
therfor   she   removed,   and   if   annybody  askes  whoe 
counseld  her  to  it  you  may  tell  them  it  was  I.'    '  'Tis 
anof,  my  Lord,'  says  Pigion,  and  so  mad  a  curse  and 
cam  awaye  ;  this  I  thought  fite  to  give  you  an  acount 
of  with  all  sped  that  you  may  se  howe  this  ill  man 
sekes  to  ruen  her  :  he  made  her  goe  to  court  with  my 
Lady  Embasodris,  and  she  was  at  the  hotell  de  ville 
of  S*  Jhons  day  at  the  fyer  and  the  super,  and  has 
mayd   a   great   manny   fyn   clothes   and   tacken   thre 
weemen  to  wayet  one  her,  of  the  Embasodors  pre- 
fering,   and   a   swise  to  stand   at  her  Parloyer  dore, 
and    thar  is  furneture  a  making  for  her    apartment 
and  she  is  tacking  more  footmen,  for  as  yeat  she  has 
but  one  ;  I  dowet  not  but  that  the  Embasodor  will 
invent  a  thousan  lyes  for  her  and  himself  to  writ  to 
you  of  me  :  but  beleve  me  uppon  my  word  if  thay  tell 
truth  thay  can  have  nothing  to  say  of  my  conduckt, 
for   I   have   both    before   I   went  into   England   and 
since   I   cam    back  lived  with   that    resarvednes    and 
honnor  that  had  you  your  self  market   me  owet  a 
life  I  am  sure  you  would  have  orderd  it  so :   and  had 
it  not  binne  for   that  sely  Leter  his  malis  could  not 
have  had  a  pretentian  to  have  blasted  me,  and  thous 
leters  can  never  be  knowen  but  by  him  and  my  Lady 
Sussex  :   pray  if  your  Ma'^  has  them  send  them  to  me 


232  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

that  I  may  se  if  thay  ar  all  and  the  originales :  if 
not  I  bege  of  you  to  oblige  them  to  deliver  them  to 
you,  for  I  knowe  not  what  ill  use  thay  may  make  of 
them  ore  wether  the  Embasodores  malis  may  not 
forge  letters  I  never  writ  :  if  you  will  let  me  se  thous 
you  have  I  will  aquant  you  wether  ore  noe  thay  be 
all ;  you  ar  pleasd  to  command  my  Lady  Sussex  to 
stay  in  the  monesstery  at  Conflans  :  I  bege  of  your 
Ma*^  not  to  command  her  that  for  it  must  be  very 
uneasy  to  her  and  me  to,  ever  to  live  together  aftar 
such  a  prosiding  as  she  has  had  to  me,  and  though 
I  am  so  good  a  Christen  as  to  forgive  her,  yeat  I 
cannot  so  fare  conquer  my  self  as  to  se  her  dayly, 
though  your  Ma^^  may  be  confydent  that  as  she  is 
yours  I  shall  allways  have  som  remans  of  that  kindnes 
I  had  formerly,  for  I  can  hate  nothing  that  is  yours  ; 
but  that  which  I  would  propos  to  you  is  that  you 
would  writ  a  letter  in  french  which  may  be  showed 
to  the  Arch  Bishop  of  Paris,  in  which  you  desier 
she  may  be  put  into  the  Monestry  of  Portroyall  at 
Paris,  and  that  she  maye  have  to  nuns  given  her  to 
wayet  on  her,  and  that  she  cares  no  sarvants  with 
her,  that  she  stires  not  owet  nor  reseaves  no  visits 
what  so  ever  withowet  a  leter  from  me  to  the  Abbes : 
for  whar  she  is  now  all  pepell  visits  her  and  the 
Embasodor  and  others  careys  consorts  of  museke 
every  day  to  entertan  her  :  so  that  the  holle  disscores 
of  this  place  is  nothing  but  of  her,  and  she  must  be 
ruend  if  you  doe  not  tacke  som  spedy  cores  with  her  : 
this  Portroyall  that  I  propos  to  you  is  in  great  repu- 
tation for  the  piete  and  regularety  of  it,  so  that  I 
thinke  it  much  the  best  place  for  her :  and  for  Conflans 
ware  it  not  for  the  reasons  I  have  given  you  before 
that  place  would  not  be  proper  for  her,  for  she  has 


THE    DUCHESS    IN    PARIS  233 

hy  great  presents  that  she  has  mad  the  Abbess  gand  her 
to  say  what  she  will :  for  when  I  cam  over  she  would 
have  conseald  from  me  my  Lady  Sussex  frequent 
goeng  owet  of  the  monestry,  but  that  it  was  so  puplike 
she  could  not  doe  it  long  :  and  when  she  sawe  that 
she  sayd  that  my  Lady  Sussex  told  her  she  went 
owet  for  afares  of  min  that  I  had  orderd  her  to  doe 
in  my  absance  :  this  being,  Conflans  is  of  all  places 
the  most  unfit  for  her  and  would  be  the  most  un- 
easse  to  me  :  therf  or  I  doe  most  humbly  bege  of  your 
Ma'y  not  to  command  her  that  place." 

It  is  in  this  letter  that  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland, 
as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  speaks  of  her  daughter 
Anne  as  if  there  were  no  possible  doubt  of  the  King 
being  her  father.  We  do  not  know  whether  Charles 
now  yielded  to  the  mother's  demand  that  she  should 
be  sent  to  Port  Royal  instead  of  Conflans,  or  whether 
she  was  brought  back  to  England  now,  in  spite  of  her 
"  conultion  fits."  But  already  attempts  had  been 
made  to  persuade  Lord  Sussex  to  receive  her  again, 
and  sooner  or  later  she  rejoined  him.  Although  she 
bore  him  an  acknowledged  daughter  before  the  end 
of  Charles's  reign,  her  reputation  continued  to  be 
evil,  as  might  have  been  expected  from  so  bad  a 
beginning.  She  separated  from  the  Earl  again, 
and  after  the  abdication  of  James  II  went  to  live 
at  Saint  Germain.  In  1703  her  mother  is  found 
writing  to  Sir  Thomas  Dyke  (one  of  the  trustees  of 
the  Sussex  marriage  settlement),  expressing  concern 
for  the  position  of  her  "daughter  Sussex  and  her 
childerne,"   threatened  with  ruin    by  Lord  Sussex's 


234  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

extravagance.  In  171 5  His  Lordship  died.  In  171 8 
his  widow  found  in  Lord  Teynham  another  man  bold 
enough  to  marry  her.  He  shot  himself,  however,  five 
years  later  at  his  house  in  the  Haymarket  in  a  fit  of 
madness,  whereon  the  widow  married  a  third  time. 
Losing  this  husband,  the  Hon.  Robert  Moore,  less  than 
three  years  after  the  wedding,  Anne  resigned  herself 
to  her  fate,  and  lived  another  twenty-seven  years 
without  a  spouse,  dying  finally  in  1755. 

Whoever  was  her  father,  Anne  certainly  proved 
her  descent  from  her  mother,  as  was  recognised 
readily  by  the  libellous  verse-writers  of  the  day, 
who  coupled  their  names  together  in  unpleasing 
doggerel. 

As  for  the  wicked  ambassador,  his  career  as  a 
diplomatist  was  at  an  end  as  long  as  Charles  remained 
on  the  throne.  He  left  Paris  without  waiting  to  be 
recalled.  On  reaching  England  he  found  himself  no 
longer  of  the  Privy  Council,  and  denied  even  a  hearing 
by  the  King.  Until  Charles's  death  he  remained 
a  man  whose  acquaintance  was  dangerous  to  the 
reputation  of  a  courtier.  James  II  unwisely  ad- 
mitted him  to  favour,  and  in  return  found  him  one 
of  the  first  to  desert  to  William  of  Orange. 

Victory  in  the  Montagu  affair  undoubtedly  re- 
mained with  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  but  she 
had  not  won  it  without  a  loss  on  her  side.  Charles 
found  it  hard  to  forgive  her  disregard  of  his  in- 
junction that  she  should  "live  so  as  to  make  the  least 
noise  she  could,"  and  his  generosity  which  she  so 
fulsomely  acknowledged  did  not  extend  so  far  as  to 


THE   DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  235 

allow  her  to  return  to  England  until  another  fourteen 
months  had  elapsed. 

Moreover,  there  was  another  reason  against  her 
return.  Lord  Castlemaine  had  come  back  to  England 
in  the  summer  of  1677,  and  had  taken  up  his  residence 
in  London  again.  We  last  saw  him,  after  his  mission 
in  the  company  of  Sir  Daniel  Harvey  to  Turkey, 
travelling  on  his  own  account.  Now  some  affairs 
connected  with  his  property  brought  him  back, 
and  he  found  no  longer  any  reason  of  honour  why  he 
should  not  stay. 

If  she  remained  in  France,  however,  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  retained  her  interest  in  her  sons'  affairs 
at  home.  In  the  Savile  Correspondence  there  is  a 
letter  written  by  Henry  Saville  in  Paris  to  his  elder 
brother  on  September  21st,  1678,  which  certainly 
must  refer  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  "  As  for 
the  question  you  ask,"  says  Savile,  "  concerning 
Her  Grace  and  her  son's  pretensions  to  my  Lady 
B.  P.,  that  is  a  matter  she  has  had  very  long  in  her 
wishes,  but  has  fail'd  in  all  the  attempts  of  carrying 
it  further,  and  is  at  last  tired  with  the  King's  non- 
chalance in  the  prosecution,  which  could  hope  for 
success  from  nothing  but  his  vigour  in  it.  However, 
the  young  lord  stays  this  winter  in  England,  to  be  at 
least  in  the  way,  and  if  any  method  can  be  found 
to  set  the  business  on  foot,  I  will  take  upon  me  the 
part  of  minding  the  King  to  be  a  little  more  vigorous 
now  it  is  near  than  he  was  when  it  was  at  a  further 
distance,  which  possibly  was  the  occasion  of  his  taking 
so  little  care  in  it." 


236  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

"  My  Lady  B.  P."  is  without  a  doubt  Lady  Elizabeth 
(Betty)  Percy,  only  daughter  and  heiress  of  the  last 
Earl  of  the  old  Northumberland  line,  Joceline  Percy. 
Some  have  identified  the  son  of  Her  Grace  here 
referred  to  with  Charles,  Duke  of  Southampton ; 
but  the  evidence  is  in  favour  of  George  Fitzroy,  or 
even  of  Henry.  George  was  the  first  of  the 
new  Northumberland  line,  and  was  still  unmarried. 
Charles  had  been  married  for  seven  years,  and,  im- 
perious as  was  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  she  could 
scarcely  have  hoped  to  undo  now  that  marriage  which 
she  had  forced  on  with  such  violence  in  1671. 
Henry  Fitzroy,  too,  was  a  more  likely  candidate  than 
Charles,  for  we  do  know  that  the  Duchess  endeavoured 
to  upset  the  half-completed  contract  with  the  daughter 
of  the  Arlingtons.  Indeed  Lady  Chaworth  writes 
positively  to  Lord  Roos  on  December  i8th,  1677,  ^^^^ 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  "  designes  to  get  the  King 
to  break  her  son  the  Duke  of  Grafton's  marriage  to 
Lord  Arlington's  daughter,  and  then  hopes  to  make  a 
match  between  him  and  Lady  Percy,  and  her  son 
Northumberland  and  M'^  Anne  Mountagu,  which 
double  marriage  they  say  Lady  Northumberland  and 
her  husband  aproove."  Perhaps  the  match-making 
Duchess  offered  the  choice  of  her  sons  Henry  and 
George. 

Betty  Percy's  guardians,  of  whom  the  chief  was  her 
grandmother,  decided,  however,  in  favour  of  Henry 
Cavendish,  Earl  of  Ogle,  son  of  the  Duke  of  New- 
castle, to  whom  they  married  her  in  1679.  ^&^^ 
died  in  a  year,  and   Betty  was  next  contracted  (or 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  237 

sold,  as  people  said)  by  her  grandmother  to  the 
extremely  wealthy  commoner,  Thomas  Thynne,  friend 
of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  and  once  suitor  for  Anne 
Fitzroy's  hand,  it  seems.  Although  she  now  ex- 
pressed her  disapproval  of  George  Fitzroy  on  account 
of  his  parentage,  the  young  lady  was  far  from  having 
a  liking  for  Thynne,  and  she  fled  in  aversion  immedi- 
ately after  the  private  celebration  of  her  wedding. 
To  anticipate  events,  on  February  12th,  1682,  Thynne 
was  brutally  murdered  in  Pall  Mall  by  Count  John 
von  Konigsmark,  brother  of  the  hapless  Sophia 
Dorothea's  lover,  and  two  accomplices,  leaving  Eliza- 
beth at  the  age  of  fifteen  again  a  widow.  As  we  shall 
see,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  once  more  tried  to 
secure  her  hand  for  her  son — and  once  more  failed. 

If  she  had  been  absent  from  England  at  the 
remarriage  of  her  daughter  Charlotte  to  the  Earl 
of  Lichfield  in  1677,  the  same  was  not  the  case  at 
the  remarriage  of  her  son  Henry,  Duke  of  Grafton, 
to  Isabella  Bennet  in  November  1679.  In  fact, 
the  Duchess  was  back  in  London  four  months  pre- 
viously, for  Narcissus  Luttrell,  whose  quaint  diary 
of  events  from  this  time  onwards  helps  us  with 
occasional  references  to  Barbara,  has  the  following 
entry  under  July  of  that  year  :  "  The  latter  end 
of  this  month  the  Dutchesse  of  Cleaveland  arrived 
here  from  France.  About  this  time  Mrs.  Gwyn, 
mother  to  Madam  Ellen  Gwyn,  being  in  drink, 
was  drowned  in  a  ditch  near  Westminster."  ^ 

■'  The  date  of  the  Duchess's  return  is  also  approximately  fixed  by 
an  amusing  letter  written  on  July  31st  by  Edward  Pyckering  to  Lord 


238  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  attempted  to  break 
off  the  alliance  with  the  Arlingtons,  but,  finding 
herself  unable  to  do  so,  figured  among  the  principal 
guests  at  the  wedding  on  the  evening  of  November 
6th,  1679.  Evelyn,  who  was  present,  has  the  following 
account  : 

"  The  ceremonie  was  performed  in  my  Lord 
Chamberlaines  (her  fathers)  lodgings  at  Whitehall 
by  the  Bishop  of  Rochester,  His  Majesty  being 
present.  A  sudden  and  unexpected  thing,  when 
every  body  believ'd  the  first  marriage  would  have 
come  to  nothing  ;  but  the  measure  being  determined 
I  w-as  privately  invited  by  my  Lady,  her  mother, 
to  be  present.  I  confesse  I  could  give  her  little  joy, 
and  so  I  plainely  told  her,  but  she  said  the  King 
would  have  it  so,  and  there  was  no  going  back.  This 
sweetest,  hopefullest,  most  beautifull  child,  and 
most  vertuous  too,  was  sacrific'd  to  a  boy  that  had 
been  rudely  bred,  without  any  thing  to  encourage 
them  but  His  Majesty's  pleasure.  I  pray  God 
the  sweete  child  find  it  to  her  advantage,  who,  if 
my  augury  deceive  me  not,  will  in  a  few  years  be 
such  a  paragon  as  were  fit  to  make  the  wife  of  the 
greatest  Prince  in  Europe.  I  staled  supper,  where 
His  Majesty  sate  betweene  the  Dutchesse  of  Cleave- 
land  (the  mother  of  the  Duke  of  Grafton)  and  the 
sweete    Dutchesse    the    bride ;    there    were    several 

Montagu.  "  The  Duchess  of  Cleveland  is  lately  come  over,"  he  says, 
"and  will  shortly  to  Windsor,  if  not  there  already.  His  Majesty 
gave  the  Commissioners  of  the  Treasury  fair  warning  to  look  to  them- 
selves, for  that  she  would  have  a  bout  with  them  for  money,  having 
lately  lost  ;^20,ooo  in  money  and  jewels  in  one  night  at  play." 
Charles  had  not  lost  his  dread  of  the  harpy's  claws  ! 


THE    DUCHESS    IN   PARIS  239 

greate  persons  and  ladies,  without  pomp.  My  love 
to  my  Lord  Arlington's  family  and  the  sweete  child 
made  me  behold  all  this  with  regret,  tho'  as  the 
Duke  of  Grafton  affects  the  sea,  to  which  I  find  his 
father  intends  to  use  him,  he  may  emerge  a  plaine, 
usefull,  and  robust  officer,  and  were  he  polish'd, 
a  tolerable  person,  for  he  is  exceeding  handsome, 
by  far  surpassing  any  of  the  King's  other  natural 
issue." 

To  signalise  the  return  of  the  ex-mistress  to  England 
there  appeared,  in  the  very  month  of  the  Grafton 
wedding,  a  virulent  libel  upon  her  and  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth,  forming  part  of  an  effusion  entitled 
j47i  Essay  on  Satire.  Nine  lines  of  this  were  as 
follows  : 

'*  Yet  sauntering  Charles,  between  his  beastly  brace, 
Meets  with  dissembling  still  in  either  place, 
Affected  humour,  or  a  painted  face. 
In  loyal  libels  we  have  often  told  him 
How  one  has  jilted  him,  the  other  sold  him ; 
How  that  affects  to  laugh,  how  this  to  weep, 
But  who  can  rail  so  long  as  he  can  sleep  ? 
Was  ever  Prince  by  two  at  once  misled, 
False,  foolish,  old,  ill-natured,  and  ill-bred  ? " 

The  authorship  of  these  uncomplimentary  verses 
was  attributed  to  the  Earl  of  Mulgrave  and  John 
Dryden  in  collaboration.  The  King  took  in  good 
part  the  censure  administered  to  him,  and  only 
expressed  his  amusement.  Certainly  he  had  been 
very  lightly  treated  in  comparison  with  the  ladies. 
In  the  lines — 

"  How  that  affects  to  laugh,  how  this  to  weep, 
But  who  can  rail  so  long  as  he  can  sleep  ? " 


240  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

the  laugher  and  railer  is  Cleveland,  the  weeper 
Portsmouth,  whose  most  effective  argument  was  said 
always  to  be  tearsr  Yet,  strange  to  say,  on  this  oc- 
casion, it  was  the  weeping  lady  who  was  the  one 
to  take  action.  We  hear  o£  no  move  on  the  part  o£ 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  but  the  ruling  mistress 
hired  a  gang  to  waylay  and  beat  Dryden  for  his 
insolence. 

Perhaps  the  authors  of  this  libel  were  inspired 
to  be  so  bold  by  the  recent  more  than  usual  kindness 
of  the  King  toward  his  wife.  For  in  the  summer  of 
this  year  the  Countess  of  Sunderland  had  written 
to  Henry  Sidney  that  the  Queen  "  is  now  a  mistress, 
the  passion  her  spouse  has  for  her  is  so  great." 

Charles,  however,  had  no  intention  of  reforming. 
My  Lady  Portsmouth  continued  her  sway,  and 
the  Duchess  of  Mazarin  and  Madam  Gwynn,  the 
latter  recently  bereaved  in  the  painful  way  described 
by  Luttrell,'  had  their  shares  in  his  affections  still. 
If  the  Queen  had  no  reason  for  hope,  neither  had 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  She  returned  to  Paris, 
though  the  date  of  her  departure  is  unknown,  beyond 
that  it  was  probably  before  December  4th,  when 
Cleveland  House  is  known  to  have  been  occupied  by 
some  one  else. 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE  LAST  YEARS  OF  CHARLES  II 

APART  from  the  uselessness  of  attempting  to 
reconquer  Charles's  heart,  even  if  she  wanted 
to,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  could  not  have  found 
England  a  very  pleasant  place  to  live  in  at  the  end 
of  1679.  Since  she  had  first  withdrawn  to  Paris 
the  "  No  Popery "  cry  had  enormously  swollen 
in  volume.  Demonstrations  of  hatred  for  the  Pope 
were  common  occurrences  throughout  the  country. 
No  doubt  Lady  Cleveland  could  have  witnessed  one 
on  the  eve  of  her  son's  wedding  had  she  visited  the 
City  that  day.  Such  pretty  scenes  as  are  described 
by  Charles  Hatton  to  his  brother  were  not  confined 
to  one  year.  Hatton  writes,  in  November  1677,  of 
"  mighty  bonfires  and  the  burning  of  a  most  costly 
pope,  caryed  by  four  persons  in  divers  habits,  and 
the  effigies  of  two  divells  whispering  in  his  eares, 
his  belly  filled  full  of  live  catts  who  squawled  most 
hideously  as  soone  as  they  felt  the  fire  ;  the  common 
saying  all  the  while,  it  was  the  language  of  the  Pope 
and  the  Divel  in  a  dialogue  betwixt  them." 

But  the  violence  of  feeling  against  the  Roman 
Catholics  was  not  confined  in  its  expression  to  such 
ghastly  fooleries  as  this.     The  hideous  Titus  Oates 

R  241 


242  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

and  his  allies  had  now  invented  what  Luttrell  calls, 
and    probably    quite    honestly    believed    to    be,    "  a 
hellish  conspiracy  contrived  and  carried   on  by  the 
papists,"   of  which  the  chief  object  was  to  murder 
the  King — himself  a  Roman  Catholic,  little  as  Gates 
and    company    suspected    it  !      Although    the    worst 
days  of  the  persecution  were  still  to  come,  it  was 
already  very  unsafe  to  be  known  as  a  Papist.     One 
of   the   early   sufferers   was   Lord   Castlemaine,    who 
had  been  committed  to  the  Tower  in  the  autumn 
of    1678,    and,    after    being    released,    was    put    back 
again  at  the  very  time  of  his  former  wife's  presence 
in   England,    Dangerfield    having   in    October   sworn 
that    Lords    Arundel    of    Wardour    and    Powis    had 
offered  him  ^{^3000  to  kill  the  King   and  that   Lord 
Castlemaine    had    blamed    him    for    not    accepting 
the   money   for    so   glorious    a    work.      Lord   Powis, 
who  was   Castlemaine's   first   cousin,   being   the   son 
of  the  first  Lord's  son,   as  Castlemaine  was  son  of 
his   daughter,  had   gone  to  the   Tower   in    1678,  to 
spend  most  of  his  time  there  since.    His  wife,  before 
marriage  Lady  Elizabeth  Somerset,  daughter  of  the 
Marquis  of  Worcester,  was  sent  thither,  too,  in  the 
autumn  of  1679,  three  months  after  Samuel  Pepys. 

It  was  impossible  to  prove  Popish  sympathies 
against  Pepys,  as  all  readers  of  his  Diary  will  under- 
stand. But  the  Powises  and  Castlemaine  were  well- 
known  Roman  Catholics,  and  had  great  difficulty 
in  rebutting  the  charges  of  conspiracy  against  the 
King's  life,  supported  by  some  swearing  as  hard  as 
has  ever  been  heard  in  a  court  of  law.     In  the  case 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H      243 

of  Castlemaine  it  was  the  infamy  of  the  witness 
Dangerfield's  character  which  served  him  best  and 
led  to  his  acquittal  in  June  1680. 

Had  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  remained  in  the 
country  she  might  also  (unless  her  very  lack  of  repu- 
tation would  have  saved  her)  have  been  the  object 
of  persecution  like  her  former  husband  and  so  many 
other  highly  placed  Roman  Catholics.  Even  the 
mistress  en  titre  could  not  entirely  escape.  Attacks 
on  her  in  Parliament  in  April  1679  were  repeated 
at  the  end  of  the  year,  and  an  attempt  was  made  to 
compel  the  King  to  exile  her  from  Court.  Indeed, 
she  was  so  alarmed  that  she  herself  was  for  a  time 
anxious  to  leave  England.  The  ex-mistress  escaped 
such  terrors  and,  safe  in  France,  witnessed  similar 
tyrannical  oppression  there  of  the  Protestants. 

For  nearly  two  years  now  we  lose  sight  of  the 
Duchess,  but  in  the  middle  of  September  1681  she 
was  expected  on  another  visit  to  England,  Luttrell 
recording  that  her  house  was  at  that  time  preparing 
for  her  reception.  During  her  last  absence  in  Paris 
it  would  appear  that  she  had  let  Cleveland  House, 
for  Evelyn  records  dining  with  Lords  Ossory  and 
Chesterfield  "  at  the  Portugal  Ambassador's,  now 
newly  come,  at  Cleaveland  House."  Of  the  reason 
for  this  visit  in  1681,  if  it  was  actually  paid,  we  are 
not  told,  but  it  may  possibly  have  been  in  connection 
with  an  honour  about  to  be  bestowed  upon  the  Duke 
of  Grafton,  who  was  in  high  favour  with  the  King. 
On  December  30th  at  a  review  in  Hyde  Park  of  the 
Household  Troops  the  Duke  was  publicly  presented 


244  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

by  His  Majesty  with  a  commission  as  Colonel  of  the 
Foot  Guards. 

Perhaps,  however,  the  contemplated  visit  did 
not  actually  come  about  until  the  spring  of  the 
next  year,  when  we  know  Her  Grace  came  over.  A 
libellous  poem  entitled  A  Dialogue  between  the  D. 
of  C.  and  the  D.  of  P.  at  their  meeting  in  Paris  with  the 
Ghost  of  Jane  Shore  seems  to  show  that  she  was  in 
the  French  capital  in  March,  if  it  is  based  on  the 
actual  simultaneous  presence  there  of  the  two 
Duchesses.  Lady  Portsmouth  left  Whitehall  with 
her  little  son  on  March  4th,  1682,  on  her  way  to 
Paris,  whence  she  went  to  the  waters  of  Bourbonne 
for  the  benefit  of  her  health.  And  on  April  20th 
Viscountess  Campden  writes  to  her  daughter  the 
Countess  of  Rutland  :  "  Lady  Cleaveland  is  come  over. 
Yesterday  I  heard  the  King  had  not  yet  given  her  a 
visit,  and  to-day  I  hear  has  visited  her  five  times  a 
day." 

On  reaching  England  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
took  up  again  her  scheme  for  the  marriage  of  her 
youngest  son  George,  Earl  of  Northumberland, 
to  the  heiress  of  the  Percies.  The  wealthy  little 
beauty  Elizabeth  had  been  made  a  widow  for  the 
second  time  by  Thynne's  murder  in  February,  and 
two  of  her  former  suitors  had  lost  no  time  before 
presenting  themselves  again,  the  Duke  of  Somerset 
and  the  Earl  of  Northumberland.  The  Duke  was 
much  the  older  of  the  two,  being  thirty  as  against 
his  rival's  seventeen.  The  son  of  the  King  had  no 
doubt   a   Dukedom  like  his  brothers'  in   sight ;   but 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H     245 

Charles  Seymour  was  sixth  Duke  of  his  Hne  hy  legiti- 
mate inheritance.  Elizabeth  had  already  expressed 
her  prejudice  against  "  a  bastard "  and  had  been 
confirmed  in  it  by  her  grandmother,  quoting  passages 
of  Scripture  to  reinforce  the  argument.  So  the 
marriage  with  Somerset  was  quickly  arranged  and 
on  May  30th,  1682,  Ehzabeth  took  the  Duke  as 
her  third  husband  in  the  course  of  three  years. 

To  console  the  shghted  Earl  of  Northumberland 
the  King  made  him  a  Duke  within  a  year's  time 
(April  6th,  1683)  and  a  Knight  of  the  Garter  nine 
months  later. 

From  the  time  of  her  arrival  in  England  with 
the  Duke  of  Grafton  in  April  1682  until  just  before 
the  death  of  Charles  H,  the  history  of  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  is  extremely  vague.  Luttrell,  as  we 
have  seen,  makes  her  come  to  Whitehall,  but  in 
his  notices  of  the  Court's  doing  in  the  following 
month  he  never  mentions  her  name.  He  records 
Lady  Portsmouth's  return  to  England  in  July  and  the 
expectation  of  the  arrival  that  month  of  the  Comtesse 
de  Soissons,  Olympia  Mancini,  sister  of  the  Duchess 
of  Mazarin.  But  neither  in  London,  at  Newmarket, 
or  elsewhere  does  he  give  a  hint  of  the  presence  of 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  Nor  does  Evelyn  speak  of 
her  being  in  England  again  until  1685.  But  Mr. 
Steinman  discovered  a  letter  in  the  Bodleian  Library 
at  Oxford  which  shows  that  she  was  in  London  in 
March  1684.  From  here  she  writes  to  the  Duke 
of  Ormonde,  in  full  confidence  of  his  forgetful  ness 
of   their   former   violent   disagreement,   and   asks   for 


246  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

his  support  in  connection  with  certain  petitions  to 
him.  "  I  doe  not  dowet,"  she  writes,  "  your  favorable 
reportc  tharuppon,  which  I  shall  tacke  as  a  marke  of 
that  frindshippe  you  allways  ownd  to  have  for  her 
that  is  My  lord  your  Ex[ce]ll[ency's]  most  faithfull 
humblle  sarvant  Cleaveland." 

Thirteen  days  after  this  letter  was  Easter  Sunday, 
March  30th,  1684,  when  Evelyn  witnessed  the  re- 
markable scene  which  he  thus  describes  in  his  Diary  : 
"  The  Bishop  of  Rochester  preached  before  the 
King  ;  after  which  His  Majesty,  accompanied  with 
three  of  his  natural  sonns,  the  Dukes  of  Northumber- 
land, Richmond,  and  St.  Albans  (sons  of  Portsmouth, 
Cleaveland,  and  Nelly),  went  up  to  the  Altar  ;  the 
three  boys  entering  before  the  King  within  the  railes, 
at  the  right  hand,  and  three  Bishops  on  the  left.  .  .  . 
The  King  kneeling  before  the  Altar,  making  his 
offering,  the  Bishops  first  received  and  then  His 
Majesty  ;  after  which  he  retired  to  a  canopied  seate 
on  the  right  hand." 

It  is  possible,  therefore,  that  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land was  in  London  when  Charles  made  this  wonderful 
display  of  himself,  in  a  church  which  he  had  secretly 
long  deserted,  in  the  company  of  her  son  and  those 
of  two  of  her  rivals — three  of  the  six  Dukes  whom 
he  had  added  to  the  peerage  from  among  his  natural 
children.  It  may  be  noted  that  Evelyn  thinks 
Northumberland  "  the  most  accomplished  and  worth 
the  owning "  of  the  six,  "  a  young  gentleman  of 
good  capacity,  well-bred,  civil  and  modest  .  .  .  extra- 
ordinary handsome  and  well  shaped." 


THE   LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H      247 

Of  all  Charles's  numerous  sons,  Northumberland 
was  the  one  who  most  resembled  him  in  appearance, 
being  described  by  John  Macky  as  "  a  tall  black 
man  like  his  father  the  King."  A  verse  libel  on  him 
a  few  years  later  speaks  of  "  his  beautiful  face  and 
his  dull  stupid  carriage."  Northumberland  scarcely 
fulfilled  Evelyn's  hopes  about  him.  Nor  from  his 
only  two  notable  exploits — the  kidnapping  of  his 
wife  in  1685  and  his  prompt  betrayal  of  the  flight 
of  James  H  and  desertion  to  William  in  December 
1688 — should  we  have  judged  him  to  deserve  Macky's 
verdict,  "  He  is  a  man  of  honour,  nice  in  paying  his 
debts,  and  living  well  with  his  neighbours  in  the 
country "  ;  or  Swift's  manuscript  note  thereon, 
"  He  was  a  most  worthy  person,  very  good  natured, 
and  had  very  good  sense." 

Northumberland  was  perhaps  a  little  more  estimable 
than  his  brother  Grafton,  though  Evelyn,  owing 
to  his  respect  for  the  young  Duchess,  was  on  good 
terms  with  the  latter,  and  Burnet  considered  him, 
if  rough,  the  most  hopeful  of  all  Charles's  children 
and,  but  for  his  premature  death,  likely  to  have 
become  a  great  man  at  sea.  In  recognition  of  his 
naval  abilities  Charles  made  him  Vice-Admiral  of 
England  at  the  end  of  1682,  in  succession  to  the  late 
Prince  Rupert.  Indeed  the  father  amply  atoned  for 
his  early  unwillingness  to  recognise  him  as  his  son, 
and  heaped  honours  on  him  toward  the  end  of  his 
reign.  James  II  was  equally  generous  to  him,  in 
return  for  which  Grafton  deserted  him  even  earlier 
than  did  Northumberland. 


248  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

As  for  Southampton,  no  one  ever  discovered 
merit  in  him.  His  first  wife,  the  little  Mary  Wood, 
died  in  1680,  aged  only  sixteen.  The  next  we  hear 
of  the  Duke  is  five  years  later,  when  he  brings  an 
action  in  Chancery  against  her  uncle.  Dr.  Wood, 
Bishop  of  Lichfield,  suing  (as  next  of  kin  through 
her  to  the  deceased  Sir  Henry  Wood)  for  ^30,000. 
This  was  adjudged  to  him  as  being  part  of  Mary's 
rightful  portion.  After  this  new  triumph  over 
justice,  Southampton  relapsed  into  obscurity  for  a 
few  years  more. 

In  connection  with  two  of  these  sons  there  is 
introduced  now  into  the  story  of  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland's  life  a  new  and  remarkable  person.  Since 
the  explosion  caused  by  the  publication  of  her  affairs 
with  Montagu  and  Chatillon  in  1678  there  was 
a  period  of  silence  concerning  the  Duchess's  intrigues. 
Perhaps,  alarmed  by  what  had  happened  then,  she 
had  for  a  time  been  endeavouring  to  obey  Charles's 
injunction  to  live  so  as  to  make  the  least  noise  she 
could.  But  it  is  certain  that  she  had  not  changed 
her  manner  of  life  in  any  other  respect.  Boyer, 
when  "  drawing  a  Veil  over  the  Life  this  Lady  led,"  ^ 
cannot  refrain  from  mentioning  nevertheless  that 
"  she  descended  to  the  embraces  of  a  Player,  a  High- 
wayman, and  since  an  Assassine,  Evidence,  and  Remie- 
gadoe.^^  The  individual  whose  character  Boyer  thus 
pleasantly  sums  up  is  a  certain  Cardonell  Goodman,  a 
gentleman  by  birth,  but  something  very  different 
by    conduct.      CoUey    Cibber    tells    us    that    he   was 

^  See  p.  190. 


From  a  mezzotint  engraving  hy  Beckett 

HENRY    FITZROV,    FIRST   DUKE   OF   GRAFTON 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H     249 

styled  by  his  enemies  "  Scum "  Goodman.  The 
nickname  seems  not  inappropriate.  A  parson's  son, 
he  went  to  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  and  took 
his  B.A.  degree  in  1670,  when  he  was  about  twenty- 
one.  Expelled  by  the  University  for  his  implication 
in  the  defacement  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth's 
portrait,  he  came  to  London  and  received  or  perhaps 
bought  a  place  as  Page  of  the  Backstairs  to  the  King — 
whose  backstairs  certainly  did  not  demand  persons 
of  high  moral  worth.  But  he  lost  this  position  by 
neglect  of  his  duties  and  turned  from  Court  to  stage, 
joining  the  King's  Company  at  Drury  Lane  when 
about  twenty-eight.  As  he  was  soon  playing  leading 
parts  (including  the  title  role  of  Shakespeare's  Julius 
Ccesar)  he  must  have  had  histrionic  ability.  It  was 
after  he  had  become  an  actor  that  he  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Lady  Cleveland,  but  the  date  is  un- 
certain. Probably  it  was  at  the  time  of  one  of  her 
visits  to  London  during  her  residence  in  Paris,  and 
presumably  it  was  before  the  autumn  of  1684,  since 
his  conduct  then  could  not  have  introduced  him 
favourably  to  her  notice. 

On  October  27th,  1684,  Narcissus  Luttrell  records 
that  "  Mr.  Goodman  the  player  (who  was  sometime 
since  committed  for  the  same)  pleaded  not  guilty 
at  the  Court  of  King's  Bench  to  an  information  for 
conspireing  and  endeavouring  to  hire  one  Amidee 
to  poyson  the  Dukes  of  Grafton  and  Northumber- 
land." On  November  7th  we  are  told  that  he  was 
"  tryed  at  the  nisi  prius  at  Westminster  .  .  .  and  found 
guilty,"  and  on  the  24th  that  "  he  came  to  receive 


250  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

his  judgment  ;  which  was,  to  pay  ^looo  line  and  find 
sureties  for  his  good  behaviour  for  life."  Earher 
in  his  London  career  he  had  come  in  for  a  fortune  of 
j^2000  on  his  father's  death.  This,  however,  had 
been  squandered  before  he  took  to  the  stage,  and 
in  those  days  of  small  salaries  he  certainly  could  not 
have  paid  his  fine  from  what  he  made  as  an  actor. 
He  tried  his  hand  accordingly  at  highway  robbery, 
but  was  caught  and  convicted.  He  must  have  had 
influence  of  some  sort,  for  he  was  pardoned  by  James  H 
and  once  more  adorned  the  stage. 

We  shall  hear  of  Goodman  again.  For  the  present, 
we  may  note  that  the  attempt  to  poison  the  two 
young  Dukes  did  not  permanently  alienate  their 
mother's  affections  from  the  villain.  After  his  escape 
from  the  gallows,  according  to  Oldmixon,  "  the  fellow 
was  so  insolent  upon  it  that  one  night,  when  the 
Queen  was  at  the  theatre  and  the  curtain,  as  usual, 
was  immediately  ordered  to  be  drawn  up,  Goodman 
cried,  '  Is  my  Duchess  come  ?  '  and,  being  answered 
no,  he  swore  terribly  the  curtain  should  not  be 
drawn  till  the  Duchess  came,  which  was  at  the  in- 
stant, and  saved  the  affront  to  the  Queen." 

The  year  of  Goodman's  first  trial,  which  may 
have  been  also  that  of  his  earliest  acquaintance  with 
his  Duchess,  saw  the  large  payments  out  of  Charles's 
secret  funds  against  the  debts  incurred  by  Lady 
Cleveland  ten  years  before  on  account  of  her  daugh- 
ters' weddings.  Her  demands  on  the  Privy  Purse 
had  been  outdistanced  by  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth, 
who,  it  has  been  calculated,  had  already  in  1681  re- 


THE   LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H      251 

ceived  as  much  as  _£i  36,668  from  her  royal  lover, 
and  knew  as  well  as  her  predecessor  in  Charles's 
favour  how  to  make  money  in  addition  to  what 
she  was  given  by  the  King.  "  So  damned  a  jade," 
the  very  free-tongued  Countess  of  Sunderland  de- 
clared her,  that  "  she  will  certainly  sell  us  whenever 
she  can  for  ^500."  It  seems  impossible  to  compute 
with  any  approach  to  accuracy  the  extent  of  the 
Cleveland  extortions. 

Apart  from  this  payment  against  the  bills  for 
Sussex  and  Lichfield  trousseaus,  the  gift  of  the  Hamp- 
ton Court  stewardship,  etc.,  is  the  last  known  grant 
from  Charles  to  his  ex-mistress,  but  there  is  a  story 
of  Lord  Essex  in  1679  being  deprived  of  his  post  at 
the  Treasury  because  he  refused  to  pay  over  a  gift 
of  ^25,000  from  the  King  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land. Arthur  Capel,  Earl  of  Essex,  brother-in-law 
of  Lord  Chesterfield's  first  wife,  was  an  upright 
and  straightforward  man.  While  acting  as  Lord- 
Lieutenant  of  L-eland  in  1672-7  he  had  followed 
Ormonde's  example  in  resisting  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land's claim  to  Phoenix  Park.  After  retiring  from 
this  post  in  Ireland  he  was,  on  the  Lord-Treasurer 
Danby's  fall  early  in  1679,  put  at  the  head  of  the 
commission  appointed  to  administer  the  Treasury. 
The  "  discoverers "  of  the  Rye-house  plot  endea- 
voured to  implicate  Essex  in  the  pretended  con- 
spiracy, and,  after  vainly  trying  to  persuade  Charles 
to  summon  Parliament,  he  resigned  on  November 
19th  of  the  same  year.  Now  in  a  letter  written  to 
Sir  Ralph  Verney  by  a  kinsman  at  Court  eight  days 


252  MY    LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

later   there   is    the  following   explanation  of   Essex's 
motive  in  leaving  the  Treasury  : 

"  Some  say  the  E.  of  Essex  went  out  on  this  score. 
The  King  had  given  Cleveland  _^25,ooo,  and  she 
sending  to  him  for  it  he  denied  the  payment,  and 
told  the  King  he  had  often  promised  them  not  to  pay 
money  on  these  accounts  while  he  was  so  much  in- 
debted to  such  as  daily  clamoured  at  their  table  for 
money  ;  but  if  His  Maj.  would  have  it  paid  he  wisht 
somebody  else  to  do  it,  for  he  would  not,  but  willingly 
surrender  his  place,  at  which  the  King  replied,  '  I 
will  take  you  at  your  word.'  " 

Lawrence  Hyde,  younger  son  of  the  former  great 
Chancellor,  succeeded  Essex  at  the  head  of  the 
Treasury  Commission,  made  no  difficulty,  it  was  said, 
over  paying  the  money  which  his  predecessor  had 
refused  and  his  own  father  would  have  died  rather 
than  pay.  But  "  that  Duchess  was  ever  his  friend  and 
kept  him  in,"  says  Sir  Ralph  Verney's  correspondent. 

The  day  of  these  rapacious  harpies,  however, 
was  nearly  at  an  end.  The  year  1685  had  scarcely 
opened  when  Charles  was  overtaken  by  the  fate 
which  had  been  threatening  him  for  some  time. 
In  the  summer  of  1679  ^^  ^^^  ^  series  of  ague  fits 
which  were  sufficiently  severe  to  induce  him  to  fetch 
back  the  Duke  of  York  from  his  exile  in  Holland,  in 
case  anything  serious  might  occur.  Again  in  May  1680, 
when  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  was  hiding  a  somewhat 
diminished  head  in  France,  there  had  been  another 
scare  caused  by  a  fit  which  came  upon  the  King  at 
Windsor,    and   compelled   him    to   take   to   his    bed. 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H     253 

His  physicians  diagnosed  his  malady  as  ague  again, 
and  treated  him  with  "  Jesuits'  Powder."^  His  Majesty 
quickly  recovered,  and  in  no  way  abated  his  usual 
manner  of  life.  When  the  end  arrived  it  took  both 
him  and  the  nation  by  surprise.  But  it  was  some- 
thing worse  than  ague  which  had  been  coming  upon 
him. 

At  the  time  of  the  King's  last  illness  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  was  in  England,  whether  or  not  she  had 
remained  here  since  the  previous  March.  On  January 
25th,  1685,  was  witnessed  the  famous  scene  recorded 
for  posterity  in  Evelyn's  Diary.  The  day  was  a 
Sunday,  and  Evelyn  writes  :  "  Dr.  Dove  preached 
before  the  King.  I  saw  this  evening  such  a  scene 
of  profuse  gaming,  and  the  King  in  the  midst  of 
his  three  concubines,  as  I  had  never  before  seen. 
Luxurious  dallying  and  prophanenesse."  A  week 
later  Evelyn  adds  further  details. 

"  I  can  never  forget,"  he  says,  "  the  inexpressible 
luxury  and  prophanenesse,  gaming  and  all  dissolute- 
ness, and  as  it  were  total  forgetfuUnesse  of  God 
(it  being  Sunday  evening)  which  this  day  se'nnight 
I  was  witnesse  of,  the  King  sitting  and  toying  with 
his  concubines,  Portsmouth,  Cleaveland,  and  Mazarine, 
&c.,  a  French  boy  singing  love  songs,  in  that  glorious 
gallery,  whilst  about  twenty  of  the  greate  courtiers 

1  I.e.  quinine.  Sir  William  Temple,  writing  of  this  drug  in  his 
Essay  on  Health  and  Long  Life,  says  :  "  I  remember  its  entrance  upon 
our  stage,  and  the  repute  of  leaving  no  cures  without  danger  of  worse 
returns  :  but  the  credit  of  it  seems  now  to  be  established  by  common 
use  and  prescription,  and  to  be  improved  by  new  and  singular  prepara- 
tions." 


254  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

and  other  dissolute  persons  were  at  Basset  round  a 
large  table,  a  bank  of  at  least  2000  in  gold  before 
them,  upon  which  two  gentlemen  who  were  with  me 
made  reflexions  with  astonishment.  Six  days  after 
was  all  in  the  dust  !  " 

There  are  numerous  accounts  of  King  Charles's 
fatal  seizure.  That  given  by  Sir  Charles  Lyttelton  in 
a  letter  written  on  February  3rd,  1685,  is  perhaps  less 
familiar  to  the  general  reader  than  some  others. 
"  Yesterday,"  says  Lyttelton,  "  as  the  King  was 
dressing,  he  was  seized  with  a  convulsion  fit  and 
gave  a  greate  scream  and  fell  into  his  chaire.  Dr. 
King  happening  to  be  present,  with  greate  judgment 
and  courage  (tho'  he  be  not  his  sworn  phizitian), 
without  other  advise,  immediately  let  him  blood 
himself.  He  had  2  terrible  fits,  and  continued  very 
ill  all  day,  and  till  i  or  2  a  clock  at  night.  He  had 
several  hot  pans  applied  to  his  head,  with  strong 
spirrits.  He  had  the  antimoniall  cup,  which  had  no 
greate  effect  ;  but  they  gave  him  strong  purges  and 
glisters,  which  worked  very  well ;  and  they  cupped 
him  and  put  on  severall  blistering  plasters  of  can- 
tharides.  It  took  him  abt.  8  a  clock,  and  it  was  eleven 
before  he  came  to  himself.  He  was  not  dead,  for  he 
expressed  great  sense  by  his  grounes  all  y«  time.  At 
midnight  there  was  little  hopes  ;  but  after,  he  fell 
a  sleepe  and  rested  well  3  or  4  howers,  and  S^  Ch. 
Scarboro  [Sir  Charles  Scarborough,  the  physician] 
told  me  he  thinkes  him  in  a  hopefull  way  to  doe  well. 
His  plasters  were  taken  of  this  morning,  and  the 
blisters   run   very  well ;   only  one  is  yet   on  his  leg, 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H     255 

Avhich  is  very  painfull.  He  found  himself  ill  when  he 
rose  ;  and  those  abt.  him  perceived  it  (but  he  said 
nothing)  by  his  talking  and  answering  not  as  he  used 
to  doe  ;  and  Thom.  Howard  desired  Will  Chiffing 
to  goe  to  him,  but  he  would  not  let  him  come  in,  and 
as  soonc  as  he  came  out  the  convulsion  seized  him, 
and  he  fell  into  his  chaire." 

On  the  3rd  Charles  was  "  twice  let  blood  since 
noone,"  after  which  the  doctors  thought  he  was  in 
a  condition  of  safety.  But  on  the  night  of  the  5th 
Lyttelton  wrote  again  to  Lord  Hatton  that  he  had 
been  very  ill  almost  since  the  previous  midnight. 
Hopes  of  amendment  had  been  dashed,  "  his  disease 
being,  as  is  supposed,  fallen  upon  his  lung,  which 
makes  him  labor  to  breath,  and  I  see  nothing  but 
sad  lookes  come  from  him."  The  relentless  physicians 
drew  more  blood  from  the  dying  man  ;  twelve  ounces 
in  the  early  morning  of  the  6th,  as  Evelyn  tells. 
"  It  gave  him  reliefe,  but  it  did  not  continue,  for 
now  being  in  much  paine,  and  struggling  for  breath, 
he  lay  dozing,  and  after  some  conflicts,  the  physitians 
despairing  of  him,  he  gave  up  the  ghost  at  halfe  an 
houre  after  eleven  in  the  morning,  being  6  Feb.  1685, 
in  the  36th  yeare  of  his  reigne,  and  54th  of  his  age." 

"  He  spake  to  the  Duke  of  York,"  adds  Evelyn  a 
little  later,  recording  the  King's  last  wishes,  "  to 
be  kind  to  the  Dutchesse  of  Cleaveland,  and  especially 
Portsmouth,  and  that  Nelly  might  not  starve." 
The  Secret  History  of  the  Reigns  of  King  Charles  11 
and  King  James  11  says  that  "  all  the  while  he  lay 
upon  his  death-bed,  he  never  spoke  to  his  brother  to 


256  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

put  him  in  mind  of  preserving  the  laws  and  religion 
of  his  people  ;  but  only  recommended  to  him  the 
charitable  care  of  his  two  concubines,  Portsmouth 
and  poor  Nelly."  The  author  of  The  Secret  History 
must  indeed  have  been  well  informed  if  he  knew  all 
that  was  said  by  Charles  upon  his  long  and  agonising 
death-bed  !  It  is  not,  however,  in  order  to  refute  this 
imputation  against  the  dying  King  that  we  have  made 
this  quotation  from  a  work  full  of  crude  and  reckless 
charges  against  both  Charles  and  James,  but  to  call 
attention  to  the  fact  that  only  "  Portsmouth  and 
poor  Nelly  "  are  mentioned  in  this  version  of  the 
commendation  of  the  ladies  to  the  care  of  the  Duke 
of  York.  Similarly  Burnet  says  that  Charles  "  recom- 
mended Lady  Portsmouth  over  and  over  again  " 
to  his  brother.  "  He  said  he  had  always  loved  her, 
and  he  loved  her  now  to  the  last ;  and  besought  the 
Duke,  in  as  melting  words  as  he  could  fetch  out, 
to  be  very  kind  to  her  and  to  her  son.  He  recom- 
mended his  other  children  to  him  :  and  concluded, 
Let  not  poor  Nelly  starve  ;  that  was  Mrs.  Gwyn.'" 
Barillon,  the  French  Ambassador,  also  speaks  only  of 
a  recommendation  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and 
"poor  Nelly"  to  James's  care. 

It  is  curious  that  enemies  of  Charles  II  like  Burnet 
and  the  author  of  The  Secret  History  should  omit 
the  name  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  in  their  accounts 
of  the  dying  charge,  when  Charles's  connection  with 
her  certainly  did  him  as  much  injury  as  that  wdth  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  more  than  that  with 
Nell    Gwynn.      Since    Evelyn,    however,    is    a    most 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H     257 

conscientious  recorder  of  what  he  sees  and  hears, 
and  is  not  Hkely  to  have  inserted  the  name  of  Cleve- 
land through  any  desire  to  depreciate  the  King,  of 
whom  he  is  a  most  tender-hearted  censor,  we  are 
justified  in  crediting  his  version  rather  than  that  of 
the  hostile  bishop  and  the  libellous  pamphleteer,  even 
though  these  are  supported  by  the  French  Ambassador. 
We  know  that  Charles  appealed  to  his  brother  on 
behalf  of  his  natural  children,  except  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  who  was  in  disgrace  and  an  exile  in 
Holland.  He  is  not  likely  to  have  forgotten,  therefore, 
the  mother  of  five  of  them. 

We  shall  not  yield  to  the  temptation  to  add  yet 
another  to  the  innumerable  character-sketches  of 
Charles  H.  But  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  make  a 
few  observations  upon  his  treatment  of  the  lady 
with  whom  he  linked  his  name  during  the  whole  of 
his  actual  reign  of  twenty-five  years.  Evelyn  is 
not  making  an  unwarrantable  assertion  when  he  says, 
in  his  character  of  Charles,  that  he  "  would  doubtless 
have  been  an  excellent  Prince,  had  he  been  less 
addicted  to  women,  who  made  him  uneasy  and  always 
in  want  to  supply  their  unmeasurable  profusion, 
to  the  detriment  of  many  indigent  persons  who  had 
signally  served  both  him  and  his  father,"  Ingratitude 
is  a  grievous  fault  in  a  prince — though  cynics  find 
it  their  commonest  failing — and  Charles's  reputation 
has  suflPered  enormously  from  his  apparent  readiness 
to  forget  services  and  betray  friends.  Yet  his  letters 
and  reported  speeches  do  not  show  him  by  any  means 
lacking   in   grateful   feeling   toward   those   to  whom 


258  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

he  considers  himself  indebted.  It  is  true  that  it  is 
the  Charles  Berkeleys  rather  than  the  Clarendons 
to  whom  he  shows  genuine  attachment.  But  Claren- 
don for  a  long  time  had  little  cause  for  complaint. 
Burnet,  who  does  not  like  the  Chancellor,  sees 
Charles  so  entirely  trust  him  "  that  he  left  all  to  his 
care  and  submitted  to  his  advices  as  to  so  many 
oracles."  Clarendon  himself,  while  finding  excuses  for 
his  King's  seeming  ingratitude  to  others  early  in  his 
reign  in  the  behaviour  of  the  Royalists,  grasping 
at  favours  and  fighting  among  themselves,  when 
it  comes  to  his  own  betrayal  can  only  attribute  His 
Majesty's  "  fierce  displeasure "  with  him  to  '*  the 
power  of  the  great  lady,"  united  with  the  efforts  of 
his  personal  enemies.  There  is  every  reason  for 
supposing  that  Clarendon  was  right,  and  that  it  was 
Lady  Castlemaine,  as  she  then  was,  who  brought 
about  his  ruin  in  revenge  for  his  unceasing  opposition 
to  her  power  since  first  Charles  elevated  her  to  the 
position  of  official  mistress. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  go  beyond  the  case  of 
Clarendon  to  show  that  the  King  gave  the  lady 
a  scandalous  licence  of  interference  with  the  internal 
government  of  the  country  ;  and  in  the  influencing 
of  England's  foreign  policy  we  have  seen  her  take 
her  share  in  1665-6,  when  she  was  one  of  those 
who  forced  on  the  war  which  Louis  XIV  was  so 
anxious  to  avoid.  As  to  the  extent  to  which  Charles 
allowed  his  mistress  to  govern  him  up  to  the  time 
when  she  left  Whitehall  for  Berkshire  House  there 
can  be  no  doubt.     In  spite  of  his  fond  belief  that 


THE    LAST   YEARS    OF    CHARLES    H     259 

women  did  not  rule  him,  Lady  Castlemaine's  hand 
was  in  all  his  affairs,  political  and  financial. 

The  financial  power  of  that  hand  excited  more 
indignation  than  its  political  workings.  The  pre- 
cipitation of  a  war  with  the  unpopular  French  and 
the  ruin  of  an  autocratic  Chancellor  were  watched 
without  much  concern.  But  the  outpouring  of 
vast  sums  from  the  country's  revenues  to  gratify 
the  tastes  of  "an  enormously  vicious  and  ravenous 
woman  "  stirred  up  the  wrath  of  all  but  the  gang 
who  shared  the  spoils  with  her.  It  was  in  vain  that 
the  King  tried  to  disguise  his  grants  by  making  out 
the  patents  to  obliging  relatives  of  hers  and  friends 
of  his.  It  is  not  possible  to  reckon  up  the  sum  in 
hard  cash  which  he  made  over  to  her  between  1660 
and  1685.  But  everyone  was  aware  that  it  amounted 
to  many  thousands  of  pounds  a  year,  and  that  but 
for  the  advent  of  Louise  de  Keroualle,  another  beauty 
as  ravenous  if  not  as  vicious  as  Barbara  herself,  it 
might  have  reached  much  greater  figures. 

But  it  was  not  the  case  that  Charles's  reckless 
generosity  to  his  first  official  mistress  ceased  when 
he  deposed  her  from  her  post,  as  we  have  seen.  When 
his  passion  for  her  was  exhausted,  which  perhaps 
occurred  as  early  as  1664,  he  still  took  a  long  time  to 
break  off  the  habit  of  his  intimacy  with  her.  He 
managed  to  banish  her  honourably  from  her  Whitehall 
apartments  in  1668,  but  it  was  another  eight  years 
before  she  took  her  departure  to  France.  All  this 
time  she  was  receiving  fresh  sources  of  revenue 
which  made  the  position  of  discarded  mistress  more 


z6o  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

lucrative  still  than  that  of  ruling  favourite.  Even 
the  disgrace  which  befell  her  in  connection  with 
the  Montagu  affair  did  not  dry  up  the  stream  of  gold. 
At  the  very  time  of  his  death,  Charles's  secret  funds 
were  going  to  the  settlement  of  some  of  her  old  debts. 
In  fact,  it  might  be  said  that  even  in  the  tomb  Charles 
did  not  close  his  purse  to  her.  He  died  on  February 
6th,  and  nine  days  later,  the  morrow  of  his  funeral, 
sums  amounting  to  £305  lis.  were  paid  from  his 
secret  funds  to  various  tradesmen  in  connection  with 
the  unsettled  debts  for  the  Sussex  and  Lichfield 
trousseaus. 

Truly,  if  Charles,  as  he  told  Clarendon,  liked 
the  company  and  conversation  of  Barbara  Villiers, 
and  felt  that,  having  undone  her  and  ruined  her 
reputation,  he  was  "  obliged  in  conscience  and 
honour  to  repair  her  to  the  utmost  of  his  power," 
he  had  made  in  the  course  of  the  twenty-five  years 
of  their  acquaintance  very  handsome  amends  for 
the  ruin  of  such  a  reputation  as  was  hers  when  he 
met  her.  The  price  of  real  virtue  in  His  Majesty's 
estimation  would  be  incalculable  if  Barbara's  was 
worth  so  much. 


CHAPTER   XIII 
"  HILARIA  " 

^  I  ""HE  personal  history  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land is  even  more  vague  during  the  brief 
reign  of  James  II  than  during  the  closing  years 
of  his  brother's  reign.  We  have  seen  Evelyn's  notice 
of  her  on  January  25th  at  Whitehall,  in  the  company 
of  Charles  and  the  Duchesses  of  Portsmouth  and 
Mazarin.  In  the  upset  following  the  King's  un- 
expected death  the  earliest  of  the  three  mistresses 
appears  to  have  escaped  public  notice.  Not  so  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  Luttrell,  after  mentioning 
the  report  that  "  His  Majesty,  the  night  before 
he  was  taken  ill,  was  to  visit  the  Dutchesse  of  Ports- 
mouth," tells  how  that  lady  "  since  His  late  Majesties 
death  hath  sent  her  goods  and  is  retired  to  the  French 
ambassadors  ;  but  'tis  said  a  stopp  is  putt  to  her 
goeing  beyond  sea  by  His  Majestic  till  she  hath  paid 
her  debts,  which  are  very  great  :  'tis  said  she  hath 
also  many  of  the  crown  Jewells,  which  some  are  apt 
to  think  she  must  refund  before  she  goe  beyond  sea." 
She  was  not,  indeed,  allowed  to  leave  until  about 
two  years  after  Charles's  death,  for  as  late  as  March 
1687  she  "  is  said  to  be  returning  to  France." 

As  for  the  Duchess  of  Mazarin,  she  owed  so  much 
money  in  London  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  she 

261 


262  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

could  have  gone  to  France,  even  had  she  desired  to 
do  so.  She  preferred  the  country  of  her  adoption, 
however,  to  her  country  by  marriage,  and  continued 
to  reside  in  London  during  King  James's  reign 
and  the  next,  in  spite  of  a  request  from  the  House 
of  Commons  to  WilHam  that  she  should  be  banished. 
And  it  was  in  London  that,  in  the  last  year  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  she  '"  died  seriously,  with  Chris- 
tian indifference  towards  life,"  as  Saint-Evremond 
declares. 

While  two  of  the  three  Duchesses  are  thus  known 
to  have  remained  in  the  country,  one  for  the  greater 
part  of,  and  the  other  throughout,  the  year,  the 
action  of  Her  Grace  of  Cleveland  in  1685  is  unknown. 
Seeing  that  her  former  husband  was  in  very  high 
favour  with  the  new  King,  it  might  have  been  ex- 
pected that  she  would  withdraw  for  a  time.  In 
early  May  Lord  Castlemaine  was  one  of  the  important 
witnesses  against  Titus  Oates  in  his  trial  for  perjury 
at  the  King's  Bench  Bar,  as  were  his  kinsfolk  the  Earl 
and  Countess  of  Powis  at  Dangerfield's  trial  a  week 
later.  The  Roman  Catholic  triumph  which  followed 
on  James's  accession,  bringing  about  the  well-deserved 
ruin  of  Oates  and  Dangerfield  and  some  startling 
conversions  among  well-known  people,^  did  not, 
of  course,  do  any  harm  to  Lady  Cleveland,  a  Roman 
Catholic  of  twelve  years'  standing.  But  the  lack  of 
any    mention    of   her    presence   in    England    for    the 

*  Evelyn,  on  January  19th,  1686,  writes:  "  Dryden  the  famous 
playwriter,  and  his  two  sonns,  and  Mrs.  Nelly  (Misse  to  the  late 
[King])  were  said  to  go  to  masse  ;  such  proselytes  were  no  greate 
losse  to  the  church." 


"  HILARIA  "  263 

whole  of  the  first  year  o£  James's  reign  would 
suggest  that  she  returned  to  Paris,  were  it  not  for 
one  little  piece  of  scandrl  mentioned  in  a  letter 
written  to  the  Countess  of  Rutland  by  her  uncle 
Peregrine  Bertie  in  April  1686.  According  to  this 
letter  "  the  gratious "  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had 
just  given  birth  to  a  son,  "  which  the  towne  has  chris- 
tained  Goodman  Cleveland,"  attributing  the  father- 
hood to  Cardonell  Goodman.  We  hear  no  more 
of  this  child,  and  there  may,  of  course,  have  been 
nothing  but  malice  in  the  story.  But  at  least  it 
argues  that  the  Duchess  was  in  London  in  March 
1686,  and  had  been  there  nine  months  previously. 

The  one  personal  mention  of  Barbara  between 
King  Charles's  death  and  the  Revolution  is  contained 
in  a  letter  written  by  some  unknown  person  to  John 
Ellis  on  July  31st,  1688.  This  correspondent  relates 
that  the  Duchess  of  Mazarin,  her  sister  the  Duchess 
of  Bouillon  (Marie  Mancini),  and  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  "  went  down  the  river  on  board  an  East 
Indiaman,  and  were,  it  seems,  so  well  satisfied  with 
their  fare  and  entertainment  that  Their  Graces 
stayed  two  or  three  days."  This  was  certainly  a 
rather  remarkable  proceeding  on  the  part  of  the  three 
ladies.  Perchance  they  were  endeavouring  to  keep 
up  their  spirits  in  the  midst  of  the  agitation  caused 
by  the  daily  expected  invasion  of  England  by  the 
Prince  of  Orange. 

Apart  from  the  chronichng  of  this  trip  down 
the  Thames,  what  little  we  hear  about  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland   at   this   period  is   in  connection  with 


264  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

her  sons.  0£  these  the  Duke  of  Grafton  was  the 
most  prominent.  At  the  Coronation  of  James  II 
on  April  23rd,  1685,  he  was  present  as  Lord  High 
Constable  of  England.  In  the  following  June  he 
proceeded  to  the  West  of  England  in  command  of 
part  of  the  King's  army  against  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth, and  had  a  narrow  escape  from  death.  He 
was  drawn  into  an  ambuscade  near  "  Phillipsnorton," 
Luttrell  recounts,  "  where  a  pretty  many  were  killed, 
with  hazard  of  the  Duke  himself,  had  he  not  been 
timely  relieved  by  some  of  the  King's  forces."  After 
the  crushing  of  the  rebellion  at  Sedgemoor,  where 
he  commanded  the  foot  and  with  the  rest  of  James's 
army  "behaved  himself  with  all  imaginable  resolution 
and  bravery,"  Grafton  is  next  prominent  in  February 
1686.  Luttrell  says  that  on  the  second  of  that  month 
he  "  fought  a  duel  with  one  Mr.  Talbott,  brother  to 
the  Earl  of  Shre[w]sbury  and  killed  him  " — a  coroner's 
inquest  subsequently  bringing  in  a  verdict  of  man- 
slaughter ;  Evelyn,  that  on  the  19th  the  Duke  "  killed 
Mr.  Stanley,  brother  to  the  Earle  of  [Derby],  indeede 
upon  an  almost  insufferable  provocation,"  though  he 
hopes  that  "  His  Majesty  will  at  last  severely  remedy 
this  unchristian  custome."  We  have  no  clue  as  to 
what  was  this  almost  insufferable  provocation,  nor 
indeed  any  details  of  either  affair.  For  neither  does 
Grafton  appear  to  have  suffered  any  harm,  since 
next  month  he  is  not  only  at  liberty,  but  is  involved 
in  an  extraordinary  escapade  with  his  brother 
Northumberland. 

The  youngest   of   the   sons   of   King   Charles   and 


"  HILARIA  "  265 

the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  after  his  unsuccessful 
wooing  of  Betty  Percy,  remained  unmarried  until 
some  time  in  1685  or  early  1686,  when,  as  one  of  John 
Ellis's  correspondents  wrote  to  him,  he  was  "  bubbled 
into  marriage  with  Lucy's  widow,  to  the  disgust  of 
the  King."  This  "  Lucy's  widow  "  was  Catherine, 
the  relict  of  a  certain  Thomas  Lucy,  but  by  birth 
the  daughter  of  a  poulterer  who  may  have  made  a 
fortune — although  the  Countess  of  Northampton 
writes  that  the  lady  was  "  rich  only  in  buty,  which 
tho  much  prised  will  very  hardly  mentaine  the  quality 
of  a  Duchess."  According  to  a  doggerel  poem  of  the 
period,  it  was  a  case  of — 

"  Lucy  into  bondage  run, 
For  a  great  name  to  be  undone ; 
Deluded  with  the  name  of  Duchess 
She  fell  into  the  Lion's  clutches."  ^ 

Grafton  appears  to  have  helped  his  brother  to 
this  match,  and  when  the  King's  disgust  was  made 
known  he  further  helped  him  in  that  attempt  to 
"  spirit  away  his  wife  "  of  which  Evelyn  speaks  in 
his  Diary  on  March  29th,  1686.  On  April  6th  some- 
one writes  to  Ellis  to  the  effect  that  "  the  Graces 
Grafton  and  Northumberland  are  returned  from 
Newport  " — sc.  Nieuport  in  Flanders — "  and  put 
the  lady  in  a  monastery  ;  but  the  King  says  it  is  not 
fit  she  should  stay,  nor  is  it  believed  she  will." 

Grafton's   influence   on   his   brother   in   this   affair 

1  One  is  reminded  of  what  Congreve  once  wrote  to  John  Dennis  : 
"  I  have  often  wondered  how  these  wiclted  writers  of  lampoons  could 
crowd  together  such  quantities  of  execrable  verses,  tag'd  with  bad 
rhimes." 


266  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

and    King   James's    anger   are   borne   witness   to   by 
another  poem  of  the  time,  which  says  : 

"  Since  HivS  Grace  could  prefer 

The  poulterer's  heir 
To  the  great  match  his  uncle  had  made  him, 

'Twere  just  if  the  King 

Took  away  his  blue  string 
And  sewed  him  on  two  to  lead  him. 

That  the  lady  was  sent 

To  a  convent  in  Ghent 
Was  the  counsel  of  kidnapping  Grafton  j 

And  we  now  may  foretel 

That  all  will  go  well 
Since  the  rough  blockhead  governs  the  soft  one." 

What  was  "  the  great  match  his  uncle  had  made 
him  "  appears  from  a  letter  of  Peregrine  Bertie  to  the 
Countess  of  Rutland.  "  I  have  but  jest  time,"  he  tells 
his  niece,  "  to  send  your  Ladyship  word  of  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland  owning  himself  married  to  Captaine 
Lucy's  widow.  The  King  was  very  angry  with  him 
about  it,  for  they  had  treated  a  match  for  him  with 
my  Lord  Newcastle's  daughter,  and  all  the  particulars 
agreed."  But  no  steps  seem  to  have  taken  to  break 
the  marriage.  At  any  rate  Northumberland  did  not 
divorce  his  wife,  and  on  June  17th,  1686,  we  read  in 
another  letter  from  Peregrine  Bertie  to  the  Countess 
that  "  the  Dutchess  of  Northumberland  went  yesterday 
to  waite  on  the  Queen  at  Windsor,  some  say  to  bee 
declared  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber." 

This  escapade  had  no  effect  on  the  Duke  of  Grafton's 
advancement,  for  little  more  than  a  year  later  he  is 
found  entrusted  with  the  honourable  mission  of 
escorting   the  Princess  Palatine   from   Rotterdam   to 


"  HILARIA  "  267 

Lisbon,  on  her  way  to  be  married  to  the  King  of 
Portugal.  Of  his  illegitimate  nephews  Grafton 
appears  to  have  been  the  favourite  of  James  II. 

In  the  vear  following  that  in  which  the  Dukes 
of  Grafton  and  Northumberland  carried  out  their 
remarkable  abduction,  the  man  to  whose  honour  their 
birth  had  done  so  great  a  wrong  reached  the  highest 
point  in  his  career.  In  January  1687  he  was  sent 
by  the  King  as  Ambassador  Extraordinary  to  the  Pope, 
with  a  mission  to  "  reconcile  the  kingdoms  of  England, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland  to  the  Holy  See  from  which, 
for  more  than  an  age,  they  had  fallen  off  by  heresy." 
Castlemaine  proceeded  to  Rome,  and  at  once  began 
to  assert  the  dignity  of  his  post.  Letters  reached 
England  telling  of  his  setting  up  "  the  armes  of  the 
Pope  and  His  Majestie  over  his  pallace,  with  several 
devices  of  the  catholick  religion  triumphing  over 
heresy  "  and  of  "  the  great  splendor  and  magnificence 
of  his  reception."  ^  But  suddenly  there  came  about 
a  change  in  the  news,  and  at  the  beginning  of  March 
he  "  is  talkt  of  to  come  home,"  leaving  his  secretary 
behind  him  in  Rome  as  ambassador.  Innocent  XI 
apparently  found  his  pretensions  too  high,  and  treated 
him  with  scant  courtesy,  being  "  seasonably  attacked 
with  a  fit  of  coughing"  when  the  envoy  attempted 
to  discuss  his  business  with  him.  So  says  Wellwood, 
whose  Memoirs,  however,  it  must  be  remembered,  are 
entirely  coloured  by  his  prejudice  against  the  Jacobite 

1  "His  publick  entry  into  Rome,"  Boyer  says  in  his  obituary 
notice  on  Castlemaine  in  1705,  "was  pompously  printed  with  a  great 
many  curious  copper  cuts,  at  King  James  the  ad's  charge. 


268  MY    LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

party.  "  These  audiences  and  fits  of  coughing,"  says 
Wellwood,  "  continued  from  time  to  time,  while 
Castlemaine  continued  at  Rome,  and  were  the  subject 
of  diversion  to  all  but  a  particular  faction  at  that 
Court."  At  last  Castlemaine,  in  disgust,  threatened  to 
leave  Rome,  when  the  Pope  sent  him  a  recommenda- 
tion to  "  rise  early  in  the  day  and  rest  at  noon,  since 
it  was  dangerous  in  Italy  to  travel  in  the  heat  of  the 
day."  Thereon  he  departed  for  England.  The 
editor  or  compiler  of  King  James's  own  Memoirs  says 
that  the  English  envoy  "  being  of  a  hot  and  violent 
temper,  and  meeting  a  Pope  no  less  fixed  and  positive 
in  his  determinations,  they  jarr'd  in  almost  every  point 
they  went  on." 

But  Castlemaine,  even  if  recalled,  was  not  dis- 
graced. On  the  contrary,  in  September  he  was 
sworn  of  the  Privy  Council,  as  his  cousin  Powis  had 
been  the  year  before.  Powis  was  also  created  a 
Marquis,  and  his  wife  on  June  loth,  1688,  the  day 
of  the  birth  of  James  Francis  Edward,  Prince  of 
Wales,  was  made  "  lady  governess  of  their  Majesties' 
children."  Among  the  loyal  adherents  of  James  II 
there  were  none  of  higher  character  than  Castle- 
maine and  the  Powises,  and  it  is  a  melancholy  fact 
that  James's  bestowal  of  signal  honours  on  them 
was  made  within  fifteen  months  of  the  landing  in 
England  of  his  successor  on  the  throne.  Had  he  not 
relied  so  much  on  people  of  a  very  different  stamp, 
James  might  never  have  had  to  abandon  that  throne. 

The  Earl  of  Castlemaine  and  his  cousins  did  not 
betray   their    King.      The   Powises   left   for    France, 


J'7'OfN  a  conLCi/ii>o)'a}y  zvorf^ puvtisneii  in  i\onu' 


THE  EARL  OF  CASTLEMAINE  AT  THE  FEET  OF  INNOCENT  XI 


"  HILARIA  "  269 

the  Marquis  being  condemned  in  his  absence  next 
year  for  being  in  arms  with  King  James  in  Ireland  ; 
while  Castlemaine,  remaining  in  England,  was  cap- 
tured in  the  country  and  sent  to  the  Tower.  On 
the  other  hand,  one  of  the  earliest  of  those  actually 
holding  office  under  James  to  desert  to  the  invader 
was  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  who  joined  the  Prince 
of  Orange  before  the  end  of  November.  What  was 
thought  of  his  conduct  even  at  the  time  when  London 
was  preparing  to  welcome  the  Prince  may  be  gathered 
from  the  fact  that  as  he  was  riding  along  the  Strand 
on  December  14th  at  the  head  of  his  regiment  of 
foot  he  was  shot  at  by  a  dragoon  near  Somerset  House. 
The  pistol  missed  fire,  and  the  man  was  immediately 
shot  dead  by  one  of  the  Duke's  soldiers. 

His  brother  Northumberland  was  almost  as  prompt 
to  turn  his  coat,  and  Southampton  followed  their 
examples.  Their  mother's  uncles.  Sir  Edward  Villiers 
and  Lord  Grandison,  were  both  found  on  the  same 
side  very  early,  the  former  being  escort  to  the  Princess 
of  Orange  on  her  journey  from  Holland  in  February 
1689,  while  the  latter  retained  his  post  as  captain  of 
the  Yeomen  of  the  Guard  until  March.  William, 
indeed,  seems  to  have  been  particularly  fascinated  by 
the  Villiers  family.  One  of  them,  Elizabeth,  daughter 
of  Sir  Edward,  he  honoured  by  making  his  mistress. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  conduct  of 
her  sons  and  her  uncles,  who  all  owed  so  much  to 
the  family  of  Stuart,  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  would  let  considerations 
of   loyalty    guide    her.      She   was    forty-seven   years 


270  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

of  age  when  the  change  of  dynasty  took  place,  and 
her  most  pressing  anxiety  was  naturally  about  her 
pension.  Life  in  exile  at  Saint-Germain  was  not 
for  her.  As  early  as  July  13th,  1689,  she  is  found 
writing  to  the  new  Lords  of  the  Treasury  to  the 
following  effect  : 

"  My  Lords, 

"  I  am  extremely  sensible  of  your  justice  in 
renewing  my  dormant  warrant  to  the  Postmaster- 
General  or  Governour  of  the  Post  Office  for  the 
receipt  of  my  rent  charge  established  by  two  Acts 
of  Parliament  on  that  Branch.  But  I  am  very  much 
surprised  to  find  that  since  some  objections  have 
been  made  (upon  pretence  of  what  Major  Wil[d]man 
refuses  payment)  and  the  consideration  of  it  left 
to  his  Majesties  Councill,  I  cannot  obteyne  a  report, 
my  request  is  that  your  Lordsh'pps  will  be  pleased 
to  expedite  that  justice  on  my  behalf e  in  hastening 
the  report,  which  may  continue  me  alwayes. 

"  Your  Lords'pps  most  humble 
"  Ser't, 

"  Cleaveland." 

This  letter  did  not  have  the  desired  effect.  Their 
Lordships  at  first  refused  altogether  to  order  Major 
Wildman  to  pay  their  most  humble  servant,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  following  January  only  relented 
so  far  as  to  give  orders  for  the  payment  of  one  quarter's 
pension  while  the  question  was  being  referred  to 
Kensington  Palace,  recently  purchased  from  the 
Earl  of  Nottingham  to  serve  as  a  royal  residence. 
And,  though  she  made  a  piteous  appeal  on  August  ist, 
1692,  alleging  that  her  creditors'  clamour  forced  her 


"HILARIA"  271 

to  write  so  insistently,  apparently  it  was  not  until 
another  five  years  had  gone  by  that  the  Duchess 
received  satisfaction  of  her  claims.  It  does  not  seem 
to  have  weighed  much  with  William  that  he  had 
found  such  useful  supporters  in  the  lady's  family. 
The  chief  of  these,  however,  was  soon  removed  by 
death.  After  taking  part  in  the  naval  battle  off 
Beachy  Head  in  June  1690,  Grafton  proceeded 
to  Ireland,  and  was  mortally  wounded  at  the  siege 
of  Cork  in  October,  leaving  a  son  to  inherit  his  title, 
and,  in  later  days,  to  afford  some  protection  to  the 
lady  to  whom  they  both  owed  their  distinguished  place 
in  the  world. 

It  is  not  certain  whether  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
was  in  England  at  the  time  of  King  James's  retirement 
from  Ireland  in  1690.  But  that  she  was  back  in 
London  again  in  the  spring  of  the  following  year, 
and  residing  at  Cleveland  House  for  a  time,  may  be 
supposed  from  an  occurrence  there  on  March  30th, 
1691.  On  that  day  there  was  born  a  son  to  the  Lady 
Barbara  "  Fitzroy,"  who  thus  before  she  was  nineteen 
gave  a  proof  of  her  appreciation  of  her  mother's 
example.  Herself  the  reputed  daughter  of  John 
Churchill,  she  owed  her  son  to  James  Douglas,  Earl 
of  Arran,  eldest  son  of  the  third  Duke  of  Hamilton, 
who  had  in  January  1688  married  Lady  Ann  Spencer, 
daughter  of  Lord  Sunderland.  He  is  described  by 
Evelyn  as  "  a  sober  and  worthy  gentleman,"  although 
the  connection  with  the  Lady  Barbara  is  poor  testi- 
mony to  his  sobriety  or  worthiness.  At  the  time  of  his 
natural  son's  birth  he  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower 


272  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

for  the  second  time  since  the  throne  changed  hands. 
He  was  arrested  on  the  first  occasion  because,  it  was 
said,  he  waited  on  the  Prince  of  Orange  soon  after  his 
arrival  and  told  him  that  he  did  so  by  command  of 
His  Majesty  the  King.  Released  shortly  afterwards, 
he  was  re-arrested  on  the  charge  of  corresponding 
secretly  with  the  French  Court,  and  kept  in  custody 
for  over  a  year,  during  which  period  Barbara  Fitzroy's 
child  was  born.  His  own  family  being  disgusted 
with  him,  a  condition  made  by  their  desire,  when  he 
was  let  out  upon  bail,  was  that  the  young  lady  should 
be  despatched  out  of  England.  She  was  accordingly 
sent  as  a  nun  to  the  convent  of  Pontoise,  where  she 
ultimately  died.  The  father  retired  to  Scotland,  and 
was  finally  acquitted  of  conspiracy — to  die  in  171 2  by 
the  sword  of  the  rufiianly  Lord  Mohun,  or  of  his 
second,  General  MacCartney,  in  the  duel  introduced 
by  Thackeray  into  the  closing  chapter  of  Part  I  of 
Esmond.  The  son,  who  was  given  the  name  of  Charles 
Hamilton,  was  left  from  his  birth  in  the  care  of  his 
grandmother  Cleveland,  with  whom  we  shall  hear  of 
him  again  later. 

The  Lady  Barbara,  as  we  have  seen,  bore  her  son 
at  Cleveland  House  in  March  1691,  and  from  this 
it  has  been  assumed  that  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
was  also  at  that  time  at  the  residence  which  Charles 
n  had  presented  to  her.  If  so,  she  was  soon  com- 
pelled by  lack  of  ready  money  to  quit  Cleveland 
House.  We  know  that  she  was  without  cash  from  the 
letter  addressed  to  the  Treasury  on  August  ist,  1692, 
She    had    moved    to    a    house    in    Arlington    Street, 


"  HILARIA  "  273 

Piccadilly — a  street  which  had  then  been  built  only 
two  years — in  order  to  save  the  upkeep  of  Cleveland 
House,  for  which  she  no  doubt  again  found  a  tenant. 

After  her  move  to  Arlington  Street,  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  is  once  more  brought  vividly  before  our 
eyes,  owing  to  a  chance  acquaintance  which  she 
made  about  1692-3.  This  was  with  Mary  de  la 
Riviere  Manley,  already  alluded  to  above  in  con- 
nection with  the  story  of  the  Duchess's  intrigue 
with  John  Churchill.  Her  autobiographical  romance, 
The  Adventures  of  Rivella,  and,  in  a  less  degree, 
her  unsparing  or  (to  use  an  expression  of  her  own) 
"  flaming  "  satire,  The  New  Atalantis,  provide  much 
information  about  the  Duchess,  some  at  least  of 
which  looks  to  contain  as  much  truth  as  can  be  ex- 
pected from  the  pen  of  one  woman  writing  about 
another  with  whom  she  has  quarrelled. 

De  la  Riviere  Manley,  as  she  is  generally  called, 
was  one  of  the  three  daughters  of  Sir  Roger  Manley, 
whom  Charles  H  made  Lieutenant-Governor  and 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  castles,  forts,  and  forces 
in  Jersey  as  a  reward  for  his  loyalty.  Sir  Roger  died 
in  1688,  when  his  celebrated  daughter  was  only 
about  sixteen  years  of  age.  He  left  her  a  small  legacy 
in  his  will,  but  apparently  with  no  sufficient  guardian  to 
look  after  her.  At  any  rate  she  soon  came  to  grief. 
After  having  been  entrapped  into  a  mock-marriage 
by  a  cousin  (supposed  to  have  been  John  Manley,  son 
of  the  Cromwelhan  Major  Manley,  and  afterwards 
Member  of  Parliament),  she  was  deserted  by  him 
and  left  to  shift  for  herself.     She  spent,  according 


274  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

to  herself,  three  solitary  years  after  her  betrayal, 
apparently  in  London,  and  must  have  been  about 
twenty-one  when  she  came  in  contact  with  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland. 

We  will  let  Mrs.  Manley  tell  the  tale  her  own 
way,  after  mentioning  that  The  Adventures  of  Rivella 
are  cast  in  the  form  of  a  narrative  by  Sir  Charles 
Lovemore  to  the  young  Chevalier  U^ Aumo7it  concerning 
a  charming  and  much-wronged  lady  Rivella^  who  is, 
of  course,  De  la  Riviere  Manley  herself.  A  "  compleat 
key "  to  the  Adventures  (published  with  the  third 
edition  in  171 7,  three  years  after  the  appearance  of 
the  first),  states  that  Lovemore  was  Lieutenant- 
General  Tidcomb.  But  he  is  of  no  importance 
except  as  the  narrator.  After  explaining  to  the 
Chevalier  that  he  had  known  the  lady  in  her  girlhood 
in  Jersey,  had  been  smitten  by  her  charms,  had  lost 
sight  of  her  after  her  father's  death,  and  had  sought 
for  her  determinedly,  he  continues  : 

"  One  night  I  happen'd  to  call  in  at  Madam 
Mazarin's,  where  I  saw  Rivella  introduced  by  Hilaria, 
a  Royal  mistress  of  one  of  our  preceding  Kings. 
I  shook  my  head  at  seeing  her  in  such  company.  .  .  . 
I  accepted  the  offer  she  made  me  of  supping  with 
her  at  Hilaria's  house,  where  at  present  she  was 
lodg'd ;  that  Lady  having  seldom  the  power  of 
returning  home  from  play  before  morning,  unless 
upon  a  very  ill  run,  when  she  chanced  to  lose  her 
money  sooner  than  ordinary."  ^ 

1  The  Comte  de  Soissons,  descendant  of  Hortense  Mancini's  sister, 
Olympe,  Comtesse  de  Soissons,  has  kindly  given  me  the  following 
note  :   "  '  The  playing  is  but  moderate,  and  it  is  the  only  entertain- 


"  HILARIA  "  275 

Hilaria^  as  has  been  explained  in  chapter  ix, 
is  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland.  In  the  following  para- 
graph "  the  lady  who  liv'd  next  door  to  the  poor 
recluse  "  {Rivelld)  is  stated  in  the  Compleat  Key  to  be 
"  Mrs.  Rider,  Sir  Richard  Fanshaw's  daughter." 

"  Hilaria  had  met  with  Rivella.  in  her  solitary 
mansion,  visiting  a  lady  who  liv'd  next  door  to  the 
poor  recluse.  She  was  the  only  person  that  in  three 
years  Rivella  had  conversed  with,  and  that  but  since 
her  husband  was  gone  into  the  country.  Her  story 
was  quickly  known.  Hilaria,  passionately  fond  of 
new  faces,  of  which  sex  soever,  us'd  a  thousand 
arguments  to  dissuade  her  from  wearing  away  her 
bloom  in  grief  and  solitude.  She  read  her  a  learned 
lecture  upon  the  ill-nature  of  the  world,  that  wou'd 
never  restore  a  woman's  reputation,  how  innocent 
soever  she  really  were,  if  appearances  prov'd  to  be 
against  her  ;   therefore   she  gave  her   advice,   which 

ment,'  says  Saint-Evremond  in  his  description  of  the  pleasures  of 
hospitality  at  the  Duchesse  de  Mazarin's.  When  Hortense's  friend 
employs  the  adjective  '  moderate '  to  qualify  the  gambling,  for  which 
Hortense's  apartments  in  London  were  so  famous  that  it  was 
popularly  known  as  la  banque  of  the  Duchesse  de  Mazarin,  he  is  not 
exact ;  he  is  the  only  historian  who  attempted  to  exculpate  Hortense 
from  the  accusation  of  being  a  gambler.  It  is  true  that  at  the 
beginning  of  her  life  at  St.  James's  Palace  conversation  and  wit  pre- 
vailed in  her  drawing-room,  but  this  was  changed.  A  croupier  by  the 
name  of  Morin  ran  away  from  Paris  to  London  and  succeeded  in 
sneaking  into  St.  James's  Palace,  where  he  made  the  game  of  basse  tie 
(basset)  fashionable,  and  for  this  game  Hortense  neglected  witty  and 
learned  conversations.  In  vain  Saint-Evremond  protested  in  his  prose 
and  verse  against  the  rage  for  gambling,  which  competed  with  con- 
versation as  does  bridge-playing  in  our  time.  He  remained  vox 
clamant'is  in  deserto.  Morin  drove  away  from  Hortense's  drawing- 
rooms  the  whole  witty  Areopagus  which  had  once  frequented  them." 


276  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

she  did  not  disdain  to  practise  ;  the  English  of  which 
was,  To  make  herself  as  happy  as  she  could  without 
valuing  or  regretting  those  by  whom  it  was  impossible 
to  be  valued.  The  lady  at  whose  house  Rivella 
first  became  acquainted  with  Hilaria,  perceiv'd 
her  indiscretion  in  bringing  them  together.  The 
love  of  novelty,  as  usual,  so  far  prevail'd  that  herself 
was  immediately  discarded,  and  Rivella  persuaded 
to  take  up  her  residence  near  Hilaria's ;  which 
made  her  so  inveterate  an  enemy  to  Rivella  that 
the  first  great  blow  struck  against  her  reputation 
proceeded  from  that  woman's  malicious  tongue : 
She  was  not  contented  to  tell  all  persons  who  began 
to  know  and  esteem  Rivella,  that  her  marriage  was 
a  cheat,  but  even  sent  letters  by  the  penny-post  to 
make  Hilaria  jealous  of  Rivella' s  youth,  in  respect 
of  him  who  at  that  time  happen'd  to  be  her  favourite." 

There  is  a  delightfully  modern  touch  in  this  use 
of  the  penny  post  for  the  transmission  of  anonymous 
letters,  which  was  hardly  to  be  expected.  Next 
follows  the  passage  which  has  already  been  quoted 
in  an  earlier  chapter  ^  concerning  Count  Fortunatus 
and  his  "  ingratitude,  immorality,  and  avarice."  The 
story  then  proceeds  : 

"  Rivella  had  now  reign'd  six  months  in  Hilaria's 
favour,  an  age  to  one  of  her  inconstant  temper ; 
when  that  Lady  found  out  a  new  face  to  whom  the 
old  must  give  place,  and  such  a  one,  of  whom  she 
could  not  justly  have  any  jealousie  in  point  of  youth 
or  agreeableness ;  the  person  I  speak  of  was  a  kitchin- 
maid  married  to  her  master,  who  had  been  refug'd 

1  See  p.  1 89. 


"  HILARIA  "  277 

with  King  James  in  France.  He  dy'd,  and  left  her 
what  he  had,  which  was  quickly  squander'd  at  play  ; 
but  she  gain'd  experience  enough  by  it  to  make 
gaming  her  livelihood,  and  return'd  into  England 
with  the  monstrous  affectation  of  calling  herself 
a  French-woman  ;  her  dialect  being  thenceforward 
nothing  but  a  sort  of  broken  English  :  This  passed 
upon  the  Town,  because  her  original  was  so  obscure 
that  they  were  unacquainted  with  it.  She  generally 
ply'd  at  Madam  Mazarin's  basset-table,  and  was  also 
of  use  to  her  in  affairs  of  pleasure ;  but  whether 
that  lady  grew  weary  of  her  impertinence  and  strange 
ridiculous  airs,  or  that  she  thought  Hilaria  might 
prove  a  better  bubble  ;  she  profited  of  the  advances 
that  were  made  her,  and  accepted  of  an  invitation 
to  come  and  take  up  her  lodgings  at  Hilaria' s  house, 
where  in  a  few  months  she  repay'd  the  civility  that 
had  been  shewn  her,  by  clapping  up  a  clandestine 
match  between  her  patroness's  eldest  son,  a  person 
tho'  of  weak  intellects,  yet  of  great  consideration, 
and  a  young  lady  of  little  or  no  fortune." 

The  Duke  of  Southampton  had,  in  fact,  made  a 
second  marriage,  no  more  illustrious  than  his  former 
one.  His  new  wife,  whom  he  wedded  in  November 
1694,  was  Anne,  daughter  of  Sir  WilHam  Pulteney, 
formerly  Member  of  ParHament  for  Westminster 
and  Commissioner  of  the  Privy  Seal  under  the  new 
regime.  With  her  he  settled  down  to  quiet  domestic 
'  life,  dying  finally  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight,  and  leaving 
a  son  to  bear  his  title.  We  now  come  to  RivelWs 
estimate  of  her  former  patron's  character,  from 
which  it  will  be  gathered  that  the  young  lady  was. 


278  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

by  the  time  when  they  parted,  heartily  tired  of  her 
acquaintance,  and  that  when  she  pubHshed  her 
Adventures^  five  years  after  the  Duchess's  death,  she 
feh  bound  by  no  considerations  of  gratitude  for  any 
favours  in  the  past  to  respect  her  memory.  "  Hilaria" 
she  writes,  "  was  querilous,  fierce,  loquacious,  ex- 
cessively fond  or  infamously  rude.  When  she  was 
disgusted  with  any  person,  she  never  fail'd  to  reproach 
them  with  all  the  bitterness  and  wit  she  was  mistress 
of,  with  such  malice  and  ill-nature  that  she  was 
hated  not  only  by  all  the  world,  but  by  her  own 
children  and  family ;  not  one  of  her  servants  but 
what  would  have  laugh'd  to  see  her  lie  dead  amongst 
them,  how  affecting  soever  such  objects  are  in  any 
other  case.  The  extreams  of  prodigality  and  covetous- 
ness ;  of  love  and  hatred  ;  of  dotage  and  adversion, 
were  joyn'd  together  in  Hilarid's  soul." 

Hilaria  had  now  made  up  her  mind  to  get  rid 
of  Rivella  in  favour  of  the  ex-kitchenmaid.  But 
just  for  a  few  days,  pretending  a  more  than  ordinary 
passion,  she  "  caused  her  to  quit  her  lodgings  to  come 
and  take  part  of  her  bed "  in  Arlington  Street. 
Rivella  was  not  deceived.  She  attributed  this  action 
to  Hilaria' s  desire  to  make  it  more  difficult  for  her 
to  see  the  man  she  herself  was  in  love  with — who, 
the  Compleat  Key  informs  us,  was  none  other  than 
Goodman  the  actor.  This  agreeable  personage  is 
known  to  have  left  the  stage  by  1690  and  to  have 
betaken  himself  to  heavy  and  successful  gambling, 
which  made  another  bond  of  sympathy  between  him 
and  the  Duchess. 


"  HILARIA  »  279 

According   to   the  Adventures  Goodman  was   not 
faithful,  having  a  mistress  in  the  next  street  whom 
he  kept  in  as  much  grandeur  as  his  lady.     Rivella, 
however,  he  did  not  like  at  all.    His  feelings  towards 
her  were  hatred  and  distrust,  as  he  feared  that  Hilaria 
would   learn   about   his   intrigue    round   the   corner 
through    "  this    young    favourite,    whose    birth    and 
temper  put  her  above  the  hopes  of  bringing  her  into 
his  interest,  as  he  took  care  all  others  should  be  that 
approached    Hilaria.^''      So    he    told    Hilaria    that 
Rivella  had  made  advances  to  him — which  confirmed 
the   news   sent    by   the   penny   post.      But   Hilaria^ 
not  yet  being  provided  with  anyone  to  take  Rivella'' s 
place  at  once,  dissembled  her  feelings  and  threw  in 
Rivella's  way  one  of  her  own  sons — ^we  are  not  told 
whether  it  was  Southampton  or  Northumberland — 
leaving  them  alone  together  upon  various  plausible 
pretences.     "  What  might  have  proceeded  from  so 
dangerous  a  temptation,"  says  the  supposed  narrator, 
"  I  dare  not  presume  to  determine,  because  Hilaria 
and  Rivella's  friendship  immediately  broke  off  upon 
the  assurance  the  former  had  receiv'd  from  the  broken 
French-woman  that  she  would  come  and  supply  her 
place." 

"  The  last  day  she  was  at  Hilaria' s  house  just  as 
they  sat  down  to  dinner,  Rivella  was  told  that  her 
sister  Maria's  husband  was  fallen  into  great  distress, 
which  so  sensibly  affected  her  that  she  could  eat 
nothing  ;  she  sent  word  to  a  friend,  who  could  give 
her  an  account  of  the  whole  matter,  that  she  would 
wait  upon  her  at  six  a  clock  at  night,  resolving  not 


28o  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

to  lose  that  post,  if  it  were  true  that  her  sister  were 
in  misfortune,  without  sending  her  some  relief. 
After  dinner  several  ladies  came  into  cards.  Hilaria 
ask'd  Rivella  to  play ;  she  begg'd  Her  Ladyship's 
excuse,  because  she  had  business  at  six  a  clock  ;  they 
persuaded  her  to  play  for  two  hours,  which  accordingly 
she  did,  and  then  had  a  coach  sent  for  and  return'd 
not  till  eight  :  She  had  been  inform'd  abroad  that 
matters  were  very  well  compos'd  touching  her  sister's 
affairs,  which  extreamly  lightned  her  heart ;  she 
came  back  in  a  very  good  humour,  and  very  hungry, 
which  she  told  Hilaria,  who,  with  leave  of  the  first 
Dutchess  in  England  that  was  then  at  play,  order'd 
supper  to  be  immediately  got  ready,  for  that  her 
dear  Rivella  had  eat  nothing  all  day." 

At  the  supper-table,  Rivella  having  again  mentioned 
how  hungry  she  was,  her  hostess  threw  out  an  in- 
sinuation as  to  the  reason  for  this,  and,  on  being 
challenged,  introduced  her  son's  name  in  a  very 
pointed  way.     She  continued  : 

"  *  Nay,  don't  blush,  Rivella ;  'twas  doubtless 
an  appointment,  I  saw  him  to-day  kiss  you  as  he  led 
you  thro'  the  dark  drawing-room  down  to  dinner.' 
'  Your  Ladyship  must  have  seen  him  attempt  it,' 
answer'd  Rivella  (perfectly  frighted  with  her  words), 
'  and  seen  me  refuse  the  honour.'  '  But  why,'  reply'd 
Hilaria,  '  did  you  go  out  in  a  hackney-coach,  without 
a  servant  ?  '  '  Because,'  says  Rivella,  '  my  visit  lay 
a  great  way  off,  too  far  for  your  Ladyship's  chairmen 
to  go  :  It  rain'd,  and  does  still  rain  extreamly ; 
I  was  tender  of  your  Ladyship's  horses  this  cold  wet 
night ;    both   the   footmen   were   gone   on    errands ; 


"HILARIA"  281 

I  ask'd  below  for  one  of  them,  I  was  too  well  manner' d 
to  take  the  Black,  and  leave  none  to  attend  your 
Ladyship  ;  especially  when  my  Lady  Dutchess  was 
here.  Besides,  your  own  porter  paid  the  coachman, 
which  was  the  same  I  carried  out  with  me  ;  he  was 
forc'd  to  wait  some  time  at  the  gate,  till  a  guinea 
could  be  chang'd,  because  I  had  no  silver  ;  I  beg 
all  this  good  company  to  judge  whether  any  woman 
would  be  so  indiscreet,  knowing  very  well,  as  I  do, 
that  I  have  one  friend  in  this  house  that  would  not 
fail  examining  the  coachman  where  he  had  carried 
me,  if  it  were  but  in  hopes  of  doing  me  a  prejudice 
with  the  world  and  your  Ladyship.' 

"  The  truth  is,  Hilaria  was  always  superstitious 
at  play  ;  she  won  whilst  Rivella  was  there,  and  would 
not  have  her  remov'd  from  the  place  she  was  in, 
thinking  she  brought  her  good  luck.  After  she  was 
gone  her  luck  turn'd  ;  so  that  before  Rivella  came 
back,  Hilaria  had  lost  above  two  hundred  guineas, 
which  put  her  into  a  humour  to  expose  Rivella  in 
the  manner  you  have  heard  ;  who  briskly  rose  up 
from  table  without  eating  anything,  begging  her 
Ladyship's  leave  to  retire,  whom  she  knew  to  be  so 
great  a  mistress  of  sense,  as  well  as  of  good  manners, 
that  she  would  never  have  affronted  any  person  at 
her  ov/n  table  but  one  whom  she  held  unworthy  of 
the  honour  of  sitting  there.  Next  morning  she  wrote 
a  note  to  Hilaria's  son,  to  desire  the  favour  of  seeing 
him.  He  accordingly  obey'd.  Rivella  desir'd  him 
to  acquaint  my  Lady  where  he  was  last  night,  from 
six  till  eight.  He  told  her  at  the  play  in  the  side- 
box  with  the  Duke  of whom  he  would  bring  to 

justify  what  he  said.     I  [that  is  to  say,  Lovemore,  the 
supposititious  narrator]  chanc'd  to  come  in  to  drink 


282  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

tea  with  the  ladies.  Rivella  told  me  her  distress. 
I  was  moved  at  it,  and  the  more  because  I  had  been 
myself  at  the  play,  and  saw  the  person  for  whom  she 
was  accus'd  set  the  play  out.  In  a  word  Rivella  waited 
till  Hilaria  was  visible,  and  then  went  to  take  her 
leave  of  her  with  such  an  air  of  resentment,  innocence, 
yet  good  manners,  as  quite  confounded  the  haughty 
Hilaria. 

"  From  that  day  forwards  she  never  saw  her  more  ; 
too  happy  indeed  if  she  had  never  seen  her.  All  the 
world  was  fond  of  Rivella,  and  enquiring  for  her 
of  Hilaria  she  could  make  no  other  excuse  for  her 
own  abominable  temper  and  detestable  inconstancy, 

but  that  she  was  run  away  with  her  son,  and 

probably  would  not  have  the  assurance  ever  to  appear 
at  her  house  again." 

We  have  quoted  The  Adventures  of  Rivella  at 
considerable  (but,  it  is  trusted,  not  at  excessive) 
length,  because  there  is  no  other  work  except  Mrs. 
Manley's  which  throws  any  light  on  her  patroness's 
doings  at  this  period,  and  because  it  seemed  a  pity 
to  abridge  to  any  great  extent  the  account  given  in  so 
amusing,  but  now  so  little  read,  a  work. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

IN  LOW  WATER 

'\X7'ITH  the  help  of  Mrs.  Manley  we  have  been 
able  to  see  something  of  the  life  at  Arling- 
ton Street  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  after  she 
had  passed  her  fiftieth  year.  One  last  quotation 
from  the  same  gall-dripping  pen  will  serve  to  com- 
plete the  picture.  "  The  Dutchess,"  says  7he  New 
Jtalantis,  "  by  her  prodigality  to  favourites  fell 
into  an  extream  neglect.  Her  temper  was  a  perfect 
contradiction,  unboundedly  lavish  and  sordidly 
covetous,  the  former  to  those  who  administered 
to  her  particular  pleasures,  the  other  to  all  the  rest 
of  the  world.  When  Love  began  to  forsake  her, 
and  her  charms  were  upon  the  turn,  because  she 
must  still  be  a  bubble,  she  fell  into  gamesters  hands, 
and  play'd  off  that  fortune  Sigismund  had  enrich'd  her 
with  ;  she  drank  deep  of  the  bitter  draught  of  con- 
tempt, her  successive  amours,  with  mean  ill  deformed 
domestics,  made  her  abandoned  by  the  esteem  and 
pity  of  the  world  ;  her  pension  was  so  ill  pay'd  that 
she  had  oftentimes  not  a  pistole  at  command.  .  .  ." 

The  portrait,  it  is  to  be  feared,  is  scarcely  over- 
drawn. The  Duchess's  want  of  money,  her  extreme 
greed  for  it,  and  her  abandonment  to  the  gambling 

283 


284  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

passion  require  no  proving,  nor  does  her  prodigality 
to  those  to  whom  she  took  into  her  favour.  The 
worse  charges  were  freely  circulated  against  her  in 
many  lampoons  published  while  she  was  still  living. 
The  grossness  of  these  verse-tributes  to  her  "execrable 
name "  forbids  their  reproduction  here,  and  it 
must  suffice  to  say  that  they  bear  out  Boyer's  descrip- 
tion of  the  Duchess  as  "  this  second  Messalina." 
No  doubt  there  is  to  be  seen  in  the  ferocious  onslaught 
upon  her  the  accumulated  rage  of  thirty  years, 
the  bitter  memory  of  the  stream  of  gold  which 
Charles  II  had  poured  into  her  lap  ;  and  the  period 
was  not  one  to  let  considerations  of  age  or  sex  weigh 
aught  when  there  was  a  chance  offered  for  exacting 
vengeance.  To  represent  the  lady  of  "  the  withered 
hand  and  wrinkled  brow  " — though  the  Duchess's 
portrait  by  Kneller  in  the  reign  of  Anne,  unless  it 
was  a  mere  piece  of  flattery,  shows  that  she  really 
retained  her  good  looks  to  a  wonderful  extent — 
condemned  to  seek  for  pleasure  in  the  meanest  of 
company  gave  the  satirists  the  keenest  delight.  Never- 
theless, the  whole  tenor  of  the  Duchess's  life  en- 
courages the  belief  that  there  was  not  only  smoke, 
but  also  much  fire. 

Of  one  lover,  whom  the  spiteful  tongue  of  Mrs. 
Manley  perhaps  intended  to  include  among  the 
"  mean  ill  deformed  domestics,"  though  actually 
he  was  nothing  of  the  sort,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
was  robbed  in  the  eighth  year  of  William's  reign. 
In  February  1695  a  number  of  arrests  were  made 
of  Jacobites  said  to  be  implicated  in  an  "  Assassination 


IN    LOW   WATER  285 

Plot "  against  the  life  of  the  monarch.  The  alleged 
leaders  were  Robert  Charnock  and  Sir  John  Fenwick, 
who  were  convicted  of  high  treason  and  executed 
in  March  1696  and  January  1697  respectively — 
Fenwick  having  avoided  capture  for  some  time. 
Among  those  arrested  on  the  first  discovery  of  the 
plot  was  Cardonell  Goodman.  His  sympathies  with 
King  James  were  well  known.  Indeed,  he  had  already 
got  into  trouble  less  than  a  year  before.  On  June  1 1  th, 
1695,  Luttrell  writes  : 

"  Yesterday  being  the  birthday  of  the  pretended 
Prince  of  Wales,  several  Jacobites  mett  in  several 
places,  and  particularly  at  the  Dogg  tavern  in  Drury 
Lane,  where  with  kettle  drumms,  trumpets,  &c. 
they  caroused,  and  having  a  bonfire  near  that  place, 
would  have  forced  some  of  the  spectators  to  have 
drank  the  said  princes  health,  which  they  refusing, 
occasioned  a  tumult,  upon  which  the  mobb  gathering 
entred  the  tavern,  where  they  did  much  damage, 
and  putt  the  Jacobites  to  flight,  some  of  which  are 
taken  into  custody,  viz.  captain  George  Porter,  M"* 
Goodman  the  late  player,  M^  Bedding,  M^  Pate,  &c." 

Whether  Goodman  suffered  any  punishment  for 
his  riotous  behaviour  on  this  occasion,  we  do  not 
hear.  But  about  the  following  February  22  nd  he 
was  again  arrested  and  sent  to  Newgate.  It  looks  as 
if  some  attempt  were  made  to  connect  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  with  the  plot,  for  on  April  7th  Luttrell 
says  :  "  M^  Gisburn,  of  the  band  of  pentioners  extra- 
ordinary, is  taken  into  custody,  there  being  found 
in  his  custody  a  chest  of  carabines,  and  another  of 


286  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

pistolls,  which  he  said  were  sent  him  by  the  Dutchesse 
of  Cleveland  to  be  kept  soon  after  Goodman  was 
apprehended,  and  is  committed  to  the  Gatehouse." 

The   Duchess's   character    must   surely   have   pro- 
tected her  from  all  suspicion  of  risking  anything  on 
behalf  of  James  II.     Goodman,  too,   soon  revealed 
the  nature  of  his  convictions.     After  his  examination 
on  April  i6th  it  was  observed  that  he  returned  to 
Newgate  without  irons  or  a  military  escort,  and  it 
was  generally  believed  that  he  had  informed  against 
the   Earl   of   Ailesbury.      Soon   after   he   and   "  M' 
Porter  "  (?  the  Captain  George  Porter  of  the  Drury 
Lane  riot)  gave  evidence  against  another  conspirator, 
Peter,  son  of  Sir  Miles  Cook.    An  attempt  was  made 
by  some  persons  to  get  Porter  to  fly  to  France,  but 
Porter    betrayed    his    would-be    bribers,    who    were 
committed  to  Newgate.     Then  on  November   i6th 
"  Goodman    and   Porter   swore   positive   against    Sir 
John,"  as  Luttrell  tells  us.     The  result  to  Fenwick 
was  that  he  lost  his  head  on  Tower  Hill.     Goodman, 
having  served  his  end  as  an  informer,  was  allowed  to 
escape  to  France.     The  English  Jacobites  were  said 
to  have  helped  him  to  get  away,  to  prevent  further 
disclosures.      The    move   was    not,    however,    to   his 
advantage;    for    on    February    nth,    1697,    Luttrell 
says  :  "  Several  letters  from  France  advise  that  the 
French  King  had  caused  Goodman  to  be  committed 
to  the  Bastille  and  put  into  irons,  designing  to  break 
him  upon  the  wheel  for  what  he  swore  against  Sir 
John  Fenwick."     He  avoided  this  fate,  but  two  years 
later  succumbed  to  a  fever  while  still  in  France. 


IN    LOW   WATER  287 

"  Scum  "  Goodman  had  quitted  his  Duchess  with- 
out damaging  her  character  as  far  as  poHtics  were 
concerned.  Nor,  even  if  the  "  Goodman  Cleveland  " 
of  Peregrine  Bertie's  letter  was  a  fact,  can  he 
be  said  ever  to  have  damaged  her  character  much 
otherwise,  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  was  beyond 
his  power  to  damage  when  he  first  met  her. 

While  her  actor  lover  was  ending  his  miserable 
career,  one  who  stood  in  a  very  different  position 
to  the  Duchess  was  also  suffering  for  his  connection 
with  the  Stuarts.  The  Earl  of  Castlemaine,  however, 
was  in  trouble  sooner,  and  after  enduring  it  longer 
escaped  without  dishonour.  He  was  arrested  at 
Oswestry  in  January  1689;  and  after  seven  or  eight 
weeks  there  was  brought  to  London.  On  October  28th, 
according  to  Luttrell,  he  "  attended  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  being  charged  with  goeing  ambassador 
to  Rome  he  excused  it  by  the  late  King's  positive 
command  for  that  purpose:  however,  they  committed 
him  to  the  Tower  for  high  treason."  In  the  May  of 
the  following  year  he  and  the  Marquis  of  Powis 
were  among  the  thirty  specially  exempted  from  the 
Act  of  Indemnity.  But  although  Castlemaine  was, 
unlike  his  cousin,  within  the  clutch  of  his  enemies, 
he  was  not  treated  with  the  full  rigour  of  the  law. 
An  inexplicable  system  of  petty  persecution  was, 
instead,  put  into  effect  against  him.  On  June  2nd, 
1690,  he  appeared  at  the  Court  of  King's  Bench  and 
was  discharged.  In  August  he  was  again  seized, 
and  on  October  23rd  he  is  found  appealing,  with 
some  others,  either  to  be  tried  or  bailed  out  according 


288  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

to  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act.  On  November  28th 
the  petitioners  were  admitted  to  bail,  which  was 
renewed  in  the  following  January.  Then  on  May 
22nd,  1 691,  Luttrell  writes  :  "At  the  Exchequer  was 
a  tryal  between  the  King  and  the  Earl  of  Castlemaine 
for  4000/.  worth  of  plate,  which  he  had  of  King  James 
when  he  went  on  his  embassy  to  Rome  ;  the  Earls 
council  insisted  on  a  privy  seal  from  the  late  King 
James,  which  they  produced  in  Court,  dated  8  Dec. 
1688,  whereby  the  plate  was  given  to  his  own  use  ; 
but  the  witnesses  not  being  positive  whither  it  past 
the  seal  really  before  or  after  the  abdication  of  King 
James,  the  jury  found  for  the  King,  and  gave  ^2,500 
damages,  the  value  of  the  plate." 

After  this  severe  blow  to  his  purse,  Castlemaine 
seems  to  have  departed  to  live  at  Saint-Germain 
for  some  years,  for  in  the  parish  registers  there  his 
name  occurs  on  three  occasions  between  December 
1692  and  August  1694  as  godfather  at  the  baptism 
of  three  children  born  at  the  Court  of  King  James. 
Once  more  his  private  affairs  caused  him  to  risk 
returning  to  England.  On  September  3rd,  1695, 
we  read  that  "  Bills  of  high  treason  are  found  at 
the  sessions  against  23  persons,  most  Romanists, 
who  have  absented  the  kingdom,  as  sir  Edward  Hales, 
Earles  of  Castlemain  and  Middleton,  &c.,  who,  if 
they  doe  not  appear,  will  be  proceeded  against  by 
way  of  outlawry,  in  order  to  extend  their  estates." 
Castlemaine  must  have  appeared,  in  order  to  save 
his  estate,  and  have  been  once  more  arrested  and  im- 
prisoned, for  we  find  him  on  July  i8th,  1696,  "  dis- 


IN    LOW   WATER  289 

charged  out  of  the  Tower,  on  condition  he  goe  beyond 
sea."  He  went  back  to  Saint-Germain  to  find  Lord 
Powis,  created  hy  his  exiled  master  Duke,  Knight 
of  the  Garter,  and  Lord  Chamberlain  to  his  house- 
hold, dead  and  buried  just  before  his  own  release 
from  the  Tower.  He  settled  down  once  more  at 
James's  Court  for  a  time,  but  returned  again  to  his 
native  land,  possibly  after  the  decease  of  both  James 
and  William.  Boyer  makes  him  "  live  retiredly  in 
Wales  "  at  the  last.  At  any  rate,  death  overtook 
him  at  Oswestry  on  July  21st,  1705.  In  his  will, 
which  was  dated  November  30th,  1696,  and  was 
therefore  drawn  up  subsequently  to  his  banishment 
from  England,  he  appointed  as  his  trustees  "  my 
Lady  Ann,  now  Countess  of  Sussex,  and  John  Jenyns, 
of  Heys,  in  the  county  of  Middlesex,  Esq.,"  leaving 
to  Anne  (though  he  does  not  call  her  his  daughter) 
his  property  in  the  Savoy  and  his  leaseholds  in  Mon- 
mouthshire, together  with  his  plate,  jewels,  and  other 
personalty.  His  body  was  buried,  by  his  desire, 
in  the  family  vault  of  the  Powises  at  Welshpool, 
Montgomeryshire.  So  ended  a  life  ruined  by  an 
infatuation  with  a  beautiful  face. 

We  have  been  anticipating  events,  and  must 
now  return  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  at  her 
Arlington  Street  house,  occupying  her  time  with 
intriguing,  gambling,  and  evading  the  demands 
of  her  creditors,  while  striving  hard  to  persuade 
William's  Government  to  continue  the  payment 
of  the  pension  which  she  had  received  from  Charles 
and  had  continued  to  draw  under  James.  We  have 
u 


290  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

heard  of  her  urgent  appeal  in  August  1692  and  of  its 
lack  of  success.  When  1697  opened  she  was  still 
unpaid,  and  in  desperation  she  prepared  a  memorial, 
which  was  read  on  March  22nd  before  the  Lords  of 
the  Treasury.  In  this  she  represented  that  by  an 
Act  of  Parliament  of  the  fifteenth  year  of  Charles  II 
the  revenue  of  the  Post  Office  was  settled  on  the 
Duke  of  York,  the  King  having  power  to  charge 
it  with  a  sum  not  exceeding  ;^5382  a  year ;  that 
Charles  had  granted  to  Lord  Grandison  and  others, 
in  trust  for  her,  £4700  a  year  from  that  revenue  ; 
that  in  James's  reign  she  had  an  order  to  receive 
payment  of  ;^500  a  week  to  satisfy  arrears,  which 
then  amounted  to  more  than  ^1300;  and  that  she 
had  been  compelled  to  borrow  money  at  interest, 
and  now  owed  nearly  ^10,000.  She  therefore  prayed 
for  a  warrant  empowering  her  to  receive  the  rents 
due  to  her  from  her  annuity. 

This  appeal  was  rejected  at  first.  But  William 
seems  to  have  considered  that  justice  demanded 
he  should  recognise  the  grants  of  his  predecessors, 
and  accordingly,  when  the  Lords  of  the  Treasury 
at  the  end  of  July  applied  to  his  Secretary  for  direc- 
tions during  his  absence  on  the  Continent,  on  August 
5th  the  answer  was  received  that  His  Majesty  desired 
a  payment  to  be  made  to  the  Duchess  on  the 
arrears  of  her  pension  proportionable  to  what  had 
been  paid  to  other  great  persons.  The  Lords  on 
the  24th  ordered  the  Postmaster-General  to  "  satisfie 
the  Dutchess  of  Cleveland's  want  of  ;^235o  by 
^100    a    week    for    twenty- three    weeks,    and    ^50 


IN    LOW   WATER  291 

the   last   week,  the  first  payment   to   be  made   this 
week." 

The  struggle  of  nine  years  was  crowned  with  victory, 
and  Her  Grace  of  Cleveland  had  succeeded  in 
emulating  the  Vicar  of  Bray.  As  changes  of  reign 
made  no  difference  to  his  position,  so  too  she  under 
Charles,  James,  and  William,  and  soon  under  Anne, 
drew  her  pension  of  ^4700  from  the  Post  Office. 
It  is  true  that  she  had  the  debt  of  ^10,000  to  pay  off, 
but  debts  troubled  her  not  at  all  so  long  as  she  had 
a  supply  of  ready  money  for  present  needs  and  the 
gratification  of  her  desires.  She  could  afford  now 
the  presents  which  she  loved  making  to  her  favourites, 
and  v/as  free  to  indulge  her  passion  for  gambling 
without  humiliating  appeals  to  an  avaricious  and 
ungrateful  Churchill.^ 

Another  period  of  obscurity,  if  no  longer  of  in- 
digent obscurity,  follows.  During  the  last  years 
of  William  the  Duchess  is  not  found  figuring  in 
public.  She  might  "  still  be  a  bubble,"  as  Mrs. 
Manley  says,  but  on  the  top  of  a  muddy  pool  of  her 
own  choosing,  not  on  the  surface  of  high  society, 
and  the  polite  writers  of  the  day  neglect  her  until 
the  time  is  reached  of  her  curious  second  experiment 
in  matrimony. 

^  A  late  reference  to  the  Duchess  as  a  gambler  may  be  seen  in  a 
letter  written  on  August  29th,  1704,  when  Her  Grace  was  nearly 
sixty-three.  Stanley  West  at  Tunbridge  Wells  tells  his  friend  Robert 
Harley  in  London  :  "  Here  are  few  persons  of  quality.  ,  .  .  The 
Lords  George  Howard,  Petre,  and  Fanshaw  are  still  remaining,  and 
also  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  who  is  a  constant  player  with  the 
gentlemen  only,  and  hath  had  bad  success." 


CHAPTER    XV 

THE   DUCHESS   AND   BEAU   FEILDING 

AS  was  only  to  be  expected  from  her  personal 
character,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  a 
faculty  for  making  the  acquaintance  of  people  whose 
reputations  were  more  peculiar  than  edifying.  Among 
all  those  with  whom  she  came  into  contact  during 
her  long  life  not  one,  with  the  exception  perhaps 
of  Cardonell  Goodman,  was  more  extraordinary 
than  the  man  whom  she  made,  for  the  briefest  of 
periods,  her  second  husband.  When  their  paths 
met  Robert  Feilding  was  already  remotely  connected 
with  her,  through  William  Feilding,  first  Earl  of 
Denbigh,  who  married  Susan  Villiers,  Barbara's 
great-aunt.  The  precise  relationship  of  Robert 
to  the  Denbighs  does  not  appear,  but  he  was  on  very 
friendly  terms  with  George,  third  Earl  and  younger 
son  of  the  first.  The  Feildings  were  descended  from 
the  Hapsburghs,  and  were  Counts  of  the  Empire ; 
and  the  Beau  did  not  fail  to  have  the  spread  eagle 
emblazoned  on  his  coach  and  to  claim  the  countship 
on  occasions.  His  father,  George  Feilding,  of  Hill- 
field  Hall,^  Solihull,  Warwickshire  (now  on  the  edge  of 

1  The  Beau  changed  its  name  to  Feilding  Hall.  By  the  courtesy 
of  the  present  occupier,  Mr.  Samuel  Boddington,  I  have  been 
allowed  to  inspect  this   charming  old   mansion.      The  front  and  a 

292 


From  nil  engraving  by  M.  Van  dei'  Giicht 

ROBERT    FEILDING 


THE   DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING    293 

Greater  Birmingham),  married  a  daughter  of  Sir 
Thomas  Shirley,  and  their  son  was  well  provided  for 
when  he  reached  years  of  indiscretion.  He  is  said 
by  some  to  have  been  at  Queen's  College,  Oxford, 
and  to  have  served  for  a  time  in  the  army  of  the 
Emperor  Leopold  I,  commanding  a  regiment.  Another 
account  of  his  early  days  makes  him  come  up  to 
London  to  study  law,  but  quickly  abandon  the  idea 
when  pleasure  and  fashion  had  their  influence  upon 
him,  spending  his  money  upon  his  personal  adorn- 
ment, and  cutting  a  great  dash  with  his  fine  clothes 
and  his  footmen  in  yellow  liveries  with  black  sashes 
and  black-plumed  hats.  James  Caulfield,  who  is 
responsible  for  this  account,  says  that  he  paid  for 
his  profligacy  by  disgraceful  means,  for  "  the  contri- 
butions which  he  raised  from  some  of  the  sex  he 
lavished  upon  others." 

Some  said  King  Charles  first  called  him  "  Handsome 
Feilding "  ;    others,    the    ladies    who    admired    him. 

good  deal  of  the  rest  of  the  house  remain  much  in  the  state  in  which 
they  were  when  the  Feildings  owned  the  place.  The  Feilding  arms 
are  to  be  seen  on  the  wall  above  the  window  of  the  dining-room,  and 
are  also  on  a  stained-glass  window  which  was  removed  from  the  Hall 
to  Solihull  parish  church.  In  a  book  Solihull  and  its  Churchy  written 
by  the  Rev.  Robert  Pemberton  and  privately  printed,  it  is  stated  that 
the  Hall  was  built  in  1576  by  one  William  Hawes.  On  the  death  of 
his  son,  some  time  after  1653,  it  passed  into  the  possession  of  George 
Feilding,  who  was  parish  bailiff.  He  died  in  1671,  and  his  son 
Robert  sold  it  to  the  Rev.  Henry  Greswold,  rector  of  Solihull.  The 
date  of  the  sale  Mr.  Pemberton  places  about  1676,  but  he  admits 
that  there  is  no  direct  evidence  to  show  that  the  Greswolds  owned 
Hillfield  Hall  until  1709.  In  his  will  the  Beau  describes  himself 
still  as  "  Robert  Feilding,  of  Feilding  Hall  in  the  County  of 
Warwick,  Esq." 


294  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

Addison  contributed  to  the  Matter  in  1709  the  follow- 
ing description  of  him  under  the  disguise  of  Orlando 
the  handsome : 

"  Ten  lustra^  and  more  are  wholly  passed  since 
Orla?tdo  first  appeared  in  the  metropolis  of  this 
island  :  his  descent  noble,  his  wit  humorous,  his 
person  charming.  But  to  none  of  these  recom- 
mendatory advantages  was  his  title  so  undoubted 
as  that  of  his  beauty.  His  complexion  was  fair,  but 
his  countenance  manly  ;  his  stature  of  the  tallest, 
his  shape  the  most  exact ;  and  though  in  all  his  limbs 
he  had  a  proportion  as  delicate  as  we  see  in  the  works 
of  the  most  skilful  statuaries,  his  body  had  a  strength 
and  firmness  little  inferior  to  the  marble  of  which 
such  images  are  formed.  This  made  Orlando  the 
universal  flame  of  all  the  fair  sex  ;  innocent  virgins 
sighed  for  him  as  Adonis ;  experienced  widows 
as  Hercules.  .  .  .  However,  the  generous  Orlando 
believed  himself  formed  for  the  world,  and  not  to 
be  engrossed  by  any  particular  affection." 

Feilding  was  taken  into  favour  by  James  H,  who 
made  him  a  grant  of  ;£5oo.  He  repaid  the  King 
better  than  did  many  whose  characters  were  more 
highly  esteemed,  since  he  did  not,  like  the  Fitzroys, 
Villierses,  Churchills,  etc.  etc.,  desert  to  William  of 
Orange  at  the  first  opportunity.  On  the  contrary, 
he  first  raised  a  regiment  on  James's  behalf  in  Warwick- 
shire, and  later  accompanied  him  on  his  invasion 
of    Ireland   after    the   Revolution,    sat    in    his    Irish 

1  This  is  incorrect,  for  Feilding  was  only  about  sixty-one  when  he 
died  in  1712. 


THE   DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   295 

Parliament  as  member  for  Gowran,  co.  Kilkenny, 
in  1689,  and  went  back  to  Saint-Germain  with 
him.  At  the  exiled  Court  he  was  one  of  those 
rarities,  a  man  with  money,  having  brought  with 
him  a  sum  of  _^4000,  doubtless  part  of  his  second 
wife's  dowry.  He  became  reconciled  somehow  with 
the  Williamite  Government,  possibly  through  the 
Denbigh  influence,  for  he  was  living  in  England 
again  at  the  beginning  of  1696.  On  January  nth 
of  that  year  Luttrell  tells  how  "  Sir  Henry  Colt  and 
Beau  Feilding  fought  a  duel  near  Cleveland  House; 
the  former  was  run  thro  the  body,  tho'  not  mortal, 
and  the  latter  disarmed  and  escaped." 

It  was  not  over  the  Duchess  that  the  duel  was 
fought,  in  spite  of  the  curious  coincidence  with 
regard  to  its  locality  and  the  subsequent  Feilding- 
Cleveland  marriage.  A  week  later  Luttrell  says  that 
Sir  Henry  Colt,  having  recovered  from  his  wound 
and  come  to  the  House  of  Commons,  "was  ordered 
to  bring  in  a  bill  to  ascertain  the  wages  of  servants, 
and  more  easy  recovery  thereof,  it  being  about  that 
which  occasioned  the  quarrel  between  him  &  M' 
Feilding,  for  the  apprehending  of  whom  a  proclama- 
tion was  this  day  ordered,  offering  a  reward  of  ^^200 
to  any  that  shall  seize  him,  for  assaulting  Sir  Henry 
Colt,  a  justice  of  the  peace,  in  execution  of  his  oflice." 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  how  Feilding  could  be  so 
particularly  interested  in  the  servants'  wages  question 
as  to  fight  a  duel  about  it.  Yet  this  is  all  we  know. 
He  was  arrested  early  in  March,  but  seems  to  have 
escaped    serious    punishment.      A    fine    should    not 


296  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

have  inconvenienced  him  greatly,  for  he  had  married 
in  succession  two  rich  women  ;  the  first  the  Honour- 
able Mary  Swift  (daughter  of  Viscount  Carlingford 
and  a  relative  of  the  Dean),  who  left  him  a  widower 
in  1682,  and  the  second  the  lady  of  whom  we  have 
already  heard  as  Viscountess  Muskerry,  one  of  the 
lively  Elizabeth  Hamilton's  victims  at  the  Court 
masquerade  described  by  Gramont.  She  was  a 
daughter  of  Lord  Clanricarde,  and,  in  spite  of  her 
ungainly  appearance,  had  already  before  she  met 
Feilding  married  first  Lord  Muskerry  (the  husband 
who  had  objected  to  her  "  Babylonian "  fancy 
dress),  and  on  his  death  a  doubtfully  legitimate 
Villiers,  Robert,  by  courtesy  third  Viscount  Purbeck, 
and  by  assumption  "  Earl  of  Buckingham."  This 
Villiers  was  slain  in  a  duel  in  1684,  leaving  his  widow 
to  prove  again  the  power  of  money  by  taking  to 
herself  a  third  partner.  Through  his  second  wife's 
influence,  perhaps,  the  Beau  became  a  Roman  Catholic. 
She  died  in  1698,  and  for  seven  years  after  this  he 
remained  unmarried,  while  he  ran  through  her  for- 
tune, no  difficult  feat  for  so  raffish  a  person  as  he. 

Before  he  made  his  match  with  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  he  came  into  notoriety  again  over  a  quarrel 
in  the  theatre.  On  December  15th,  1702,  Luttrell 
writes:  "  Last  night  Beau  Feilding  was  dangerously 
wounded  in  the  playhouse  by  one  Goodyer,  a  Here- 
fordshire gentleman."  Swift,  not  predisposed  to 
love  Feilding  for  having  married  and  spent  the 
fortune  of  a  kinswoman  of  his  own,  adds  a  little  to 
our  scanty  knowledge  of  this  affair.     In  a  fragment 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   297 

upon  the  subject  of  Mean  and  Great  Figures  he 
speaks  of  "  Beau  Feilding  at  fifty  years  old,  when  in 
a  quarrel  upon  the  stage  he  was  run  into  his  breast, 
which  he  opened  and  showed  to  the  ladies  that  he 
might  move  their  love  and  pity  ;  but  they  all  fell 
a-laughing."  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  his  edition  of 
Swift's  works  has  a  note  to  the  effect  that  Feilding 
received  his  wound  at  Mrs.  Oldfield's  benefit.  "  The 
combat  took  place  betwixt  him  and  Mr.  FuUwood,^ 
a  barrister,  whose  foot  he  had  trodden  upon  in  press- 
ing forward  to  display  his  person  to  most  advantage. 
His  antagonist  was  killed  in  a  duel  the  very  same  night, 
having  engaged  in  a  second  theatrical  quarrel.  The 
conduct  of  the  hero  might  be  sufficiently  absurd  ; 
but  a  wound  of  several  inches'  depth  was  an  odd 
subject  of  ridicule." 

A  curious  work  entitled  Cases  of  Divorce  for  Several 
Causes,  published  early  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
contains  some  prefatory  "  Memoirs  of  Robert  Feilding 
Esq."  Here  it  is  stated  that  "  Major-General  Feilding 
was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  Leaders  of  Cupid,  if  not 
of  Mars  "  ;  and  it  must  be  admitted  that,  in  spite 
of  his  high  military  rank  (which  was  possibly  con- 
ferred on  him  by  King  James  in  Ireland,  if  not  merely 
assumed  by  himself),  it  was  more  as  a  lover  than  as  a 
warrior  that  he  made  his  name ;  and  his  violence 
toward  the  old  Duchess,  Mary  Wadsworth  and  Mrs. 
Villars,  described  later,  argues  in  him  the  heart  of 
a  bully  rather  than  a  man  of  courage. 

Owing  to  the  rapidity  of  pace  with  which  affairs 

^  The  discrepancy  between  the  names  Goodyer  and  FuUwood  is  odd. 


298  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

usually  progressed  with  such  ardent  spirits  as  Feilding 
and  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  it  seems  safe  to  assume 
that  it  was  not  before  the  second  half  of  the  year 
1705  that  they  made  each  other's  acquaintance. 
The  lady  was  then  nearing  her  sixty-fourth  birthday, 
and  had  just  lost  her  unhappy  first  husband.  Feilding 
was  ten  years  younger  and  was  eagerly  looking  out 
for  a  third  heiress-bride.  About  the  same  time  the 
names  of  two  promising  candidates  occurred  to  him. 
One  was  a  young  widow,  Anne  Deleau,  the  possessor 
of  a  fortune  of  _£6o,ooo  ;  the  other  the  famous  ex- 
mistress  of  Charles  II.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  getting 
to  know  the  latter.  According  to  Addison  in  the 
Taller^  his  first  speech  on  meeting  "  the  beauteous 
Villaria  "  was  to  this  effect  :  "  Madam,  it  is  not  only 
that  Nature  has  made  us  two  the  most  accomplished 
of  each  sex  and  pointed  to  us  to  obey  her  dictates  in 
becoming  one  ;  but  that  there  is  also  an  ambition  in 
following  the  mighty  persons  you  have  favoured. 
Where  kings  and  heroes  as  great  as  Alexander,  or 
such  as  could  personate  Alexander,^  have  bowed, 
permit  your  General  to  lay  his  laurels." 

In  reply  to  this  fine  speech,  the  Tatler  says  in  the 
language  of  Milton  : 

"  The  Fair  with  conscious  majesty  approved 
His  pleaded  reason." 

It  was  not  so  easy  to  scrape  an  acquaintance  with 
Mrs.  Deleau,  who  had  a  father  still  living  to  look 

^  "  Such   as   could  personate  Alexander,"  i.e.   Goodman,  one   of 
whose  famous  parts  was  Alexander  the  Great. 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   299 

after  her  interests.  Feilding  invoked  the  assistance 
of  one  Mrs.  Streights,  who  suggested  the  employment 
of  a  certain  Charlotte  Henrietta  Villars,  a  person 
of  no  repute  (as  he  was  to  be  called  upon  to  show), 
but  able  to  get  access  to  ladies  of  quality  in  the  capacity 
of  a  dresser  of  hair.  Feilding  readily  agreed — he  is 
soon  afterwards  found  to  be  calling  Mrs.  Villars  by 
the  familiar  name  of  "Fuggy" — and  confided  the 
matter  to  her  care.  Before  long,  with  her  assistance, 
he  introduced  himself,  as  he  imagined,  to  Mrs.  Deleau, 
representing  himself  to  her  as  Earl  of  "  Glascow," 
Viscount  Tunbridge,  and  Major-General  Feilding, 
though,  of  course,  he  had  not  even  the  shadow  of  a 
claim  to  the  two  first  titles.  He  proceeded  to  take 
the  remarkable  step  of  marrying  both  widows  in  the 
course  of  sixteen  days.  We  will  not  anticipate  the 
account  of  the  first  marriage,  which  is  set  forth  very 
fully  in  the  evidence  of  the  great  bigamy  trial  below, 
further  than  by  saying  that  he  was  united  v/ith  the 
supposed  Anne  Deleau  on  November  9th,  1705, 
in  the  lodgings  which  he  had  recently  taken  in  Pall 
Mall,  the  ceremony  being  privately  performed  by 
a  priest  from  the  Austrian  Embassy.  Then  on  No- 
vember 25th  he  was  married  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, also  privately,  at  her  house  in  Bond  Street, 
to  which  she  had  moved  after  leaving  Arhngton  Street. 
The  priest  on  this  occasion  was  Father  Remigius, 
alias  Deviett,  chaplain  to  the  Portuguese  Ambassador. 
Two  allusions  to  Feilding's  marriage  to  the  Duchess 
are  to  be  found  in  the  correspondence  of  the  day. 
One  is  in  a  letter  written  by  Lady  Wentworth  to 


300  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

her  son,  Lord  Raby,  then  in  Berlin,  on  December  14th, 
1705.  "  The  old  Boe  Feelding  is  maryed  to  the 
Dutchis  of  Cleevland,"  she  says,  "  and  she  owns 
it  and  has  kist  the  Queen's  hand  sinc[e]."  This  is 
interesting  as  showing  that  the  scandalous  Duchess 
was  not  debarred  from  the  Court  of  Anne  now. 

The  other  letter  was  sent  on  December  17th  to 
Dr.  Atterbury  by  Lord  Stanhope,  son  of  the  Lord 
Chesterfield  of  whom  we  have  heard  so  much  earlier 
in  this  book.  "  I  had  a  letter  from  you  this  day," 
wrote  Stanhope,  "  with  a  diverting  one  enclosed 
from  a  mad  imaginary  general,  who  is  so  happy  as  to 
be  fond  of  that  which  my  father,  and  all  the  world 
besides  himself,  were  weary  of  long  ago.  I  think  him 
(as  Dryden  says  of  the  last  Duke  of  Buckingham)  a 
happy  madman ;  since  he  can  at  this  time  be  pleased 
with  Cleveland  .  .  .  without  so  much  as  calling  back 
the  idea  of  quantum  mutatus  ab  illo.^^ 

After  his  second  wedding  the  Beau  transferred 
his  abode  to  the  Duchess's  house,  though  secretly 
keeping  up  his  lodgings  in  Pall  Mall,  in  order  to 
meet  the  supposed  Anne  Deleau  there.  Toward 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  he  soon  showed  himself 
in  his  true  colours.  "  She  payed  dear  for  her  fancy," 
says  Boyer  ;  "  for  he  used  her  very  ill,  and  not  being 
content  with  the  plentiful  allowance  she  made  him 
out  of  her  constant  income  of  a  hundred  pounds 
a  week,  paid  her  out  of  the  Post  Office,  he  would 
have  divested  her  of  all,  even  to  the  necessary  furniture 
of  her  house,  had  not  her  sons,  and  particularly  the 
Duke  of  Grafton,  her  grandson,  stood  by  her." 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   301 

But  worse  was  to  come.  In  May  1906  Grafton 
came  to  her  and  informed  her  that  two  women  had 
been  to  his  house  and  told  him  that  Feilding  had 
already  made  a  marriage  sixteen  days  before  the 
Bond  Street  ceremony.  It  is  with  no  wonder  that 
we  read  in  Luttrell  on  May  nth  :  "  The  Dutchesse 
of  Cleeveland  is  given  over  by  her  physitians."  The 
violence  of  the  old  lady's  rage  now  may  be  imagined 
from  what  Mrs.  Manley  tells  of  her  state  on  the 
occasion  of  Churchill's  refusal  of  a  loan. 

The  house  in  Bond  Street  cannot  have  been  a 
pleasant  home  for  the  Beau  after  the  discovery  of 
his  perfidy,  and  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  he  con- 
tinued to  reside  in  it  while  the  Duchess  remained  there. 
Before  the  end  of  June  we  find  him  prematurely 
consigned  to  the  grave.  Luttrell  on  the  29th  writes  : 
"  Handsome  Feilding,  who  married  the  Dutchesse 
of  Cleveland,  died  yesterday."  So  far  was  this  from 
being  a  fact,  however,  that  on  July  24th  Feilding 
was  committed  to  Newgate,  the  Duchess  having 
"  sworn  the  peace  against  him."  It  is  clearly  to 
this  that  Lady  Wentworth  alludes  when  on  July 
29th  she  writes  to  Lord  Raby  from  Twickenham  : 
"  Just  as  I  came  down  hear  I  hard  that  the  Dutchis 
of  Cleeveland's  Feeldin  was  dead,  and  she  in  great 
greef  for  him  ;  but  it  was  no  such  thing,  for  instead 
of  that  she  has  gott  him  sent  to  Newgate  for  thretning 
to  kill  her  twoe  sons  for  taking  her  part,  when  he 
beet  her  and  broack  open  her  closset  doar  and  toock 
fower  hundred  pd.  out.  Thear  is  a  paper  put  out 
about  it.    He  beat  her  sadly  and  she  cryed  out  murder 


302  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

in  the  street  out  of  the  windoe,  and  he  shott  a  blunder- 
bus  at  the  people." 

On  the  day  after  his  committal  to  Newgate,  how- 
ever, Feilding  was  released  on  bail,  he  finding  ^looo 
and  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  and  Earl  of  Denbigh 
^500  each.  During  his  brief  absence  in  jail  the 
Duchess  seized  the  opportunity  of  leaving  Bond 
Street  and  seeking  the  protection  of  either  her  son 
Northumberland  or  her  grandson  Grafton.  On 
his  release  he  published  the  following  remarkable 
advertisement  in  a  broadside,  of  which  an  example 
has  been  preserved  among  the  Harleian  MSS.  : 

"  Where  as  the  most  Noble  and  most  Illustrious 
Princess  Barbara,  Dutchess  of  Cleveland,  did  on 
the  25  th  of  July,  or  thereabouts,  make  a  spontaneous 
Retreat  from  the  Dwelling  House  of  her  Husband, 
Major-General  Robert  Feilding,  near  Piccadilly,  taking 
with  her,  or  sending  and  conveying  before  her  Elope- 
ment, Goods,  consisting  of  Money,  Plate,  Jewels, 
and  other  things,  amounting  to  the  Value  of  Three 
Thousand  Pounds,  or  upwards,  the  Goods  and 
Chattels  of  her  said  Husband,  and  which  was  own'd 
by  herself  to  be  removd  by  her  Order,  with  a  solemn 
promice  of  restoring  the  said  Goods  the  next  day ; 
But  so  it  is,  that  as  yet  there  has  been  no  Restoration 
made  of  any  thing  :  And  notwithstanding  her  Husband 
did,  by  the  Earl  of  Denbeigh,  invite  her  the  said 
Dutchess  to  return  to  her  Co-habitation  with  him, 
she  has  absolutely  refus'd  it,  by  alledging,  that  she 
had  put  herself  under  the  Protection  of  her  Children  ; 
and  that  she  defy'd  her  said  Husband,  and  would 
Justify  her  Elopement.     For  these  causes,  and  others 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING    303 

no  less  considerable,  her  Husband  thinks  fit  solemnly 
to  give  Notice  to  all  Tradesmen  and  others,  upon 
no  Account  whatever  to  Trust,  or  give  Credit,  to 
the  said  Dutchess,  whose  debts  he  will  in  no  wise 
satisfy." 

The  sublime  impudence  of  Beau  Feilding  is  ad- 
mirably illustrated  in  this  claim  on  the  property 
of  the  woman  he  had  deceived  so  grossly.  But 
Nemesis  was  awaiting  him  with  no  slow  foot  now. 
On  September  3rd,  as  Luttrell  tells,  "  the  bench  of 
justices  at  Hicks  Hall  granted  a  warrant  against 
Handsome  Feilding  for  beating  a  person  since  he 
was  bound  over."  Who  was  the  person  assaulted 
on  this  occasion  we  do  not  know.  Next,  on  October 
4th  he  was  "  taken  out  of  his  coach  by  baylifs,  near 
Temple  Bar,  and  carried  to  Newgate  for  debt." 
Then  on  October  23rd,  the  first  day  of  the  legal 
term,  the  Duchess  appeared  in  the  Court  of  Queen's 
Bench  and  preferred  an  information  against  him  for 
abusing  her.  "  It's  said,"  adds  Luttrell,  "  the  grand 
jury  at  Hicks  Hall  have  found  a  bill  against  him  for 
having  two  wives,  for  which  he  is  to  be  tried  next 
session  at  the  Old  Bailey."  ^ 

The  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  in  her  fury,  was  not 
content  to  proceed  against  the  evildoer  in  one  way 

1  A  newsletter  of  November  2nd,  1706,  says  :  "The  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  was  introduced  by  Grafton,  Northumberland,  and  Quarendon 
the  first  day  of  the  term,  when  for  continuing  of  the  bail  she  swore  she 
feared  personal  hurt,  and  for  a  proof  of  her  not  having  malice  she  said 
she  had  married  him  who  had  nothing.  Feilding  answered  that  she 
had  no  malice  when  she  married  him,  but  his  having  now  ^^50  per 
week,  etc.     However,  his  bail  was  continued.' 


304  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

only.  She  was  determined  to  make  him  suffer  all 
the  ignominy  possible.  She  therefore  had  him 
arraigned  at  the  Old  Bailey  for  felony,  while  she 
sued  in  Doctors  Commons  for  divorce  and  nullity 
of  marriage.  The  first  case  is  a  celebrated  example 
of  a  bigamy  trial  two  hundred  years  ago,  and  the 
report  of  it  throws  an  immense  amount  of  light  vipon 
one  side  of  life  in  those  days.  We  shall  endeavour 
to  give  enough  of  it  to  make  clear  the  conduct  of 
Feilding,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  and  Mary  Wads- 
worth  in  this  extraordinary  affair. 

The  trial  opened  on  Wednesday,  December  4th, 
1706,  at  the  Sessions  House  in  the  Old  Bailey,  the 
indictment  against  Feilding  being  that  he,  on  the 
9th  day  of  November  [1705],  at  the  parish  of  St. 
James's,  Westminster,  took  to  wife  one  Mary  Wads- 
worth,  spinster,  and  the  same  Mary  Wadsworth 
then  and  there  had  for  his  wife  ;  and  that  afterwards, 
viz.  on  the  25th  day  of  the  same  month,  at  the  parish 
of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  did  feloniously  take 
to  wife  the  most  noble  Barbara,  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
(the  said  Mary  Wadsworth  his  former  wife,  being 
then  living),  "  against  the  peace  of  our  Sovereign 
Lady  the  Queen,  her  crown  and  dignity,  and  against  the 
form  of  the  statute  in  that  case  made  and  provided." 

The  counsel  for  the  Queen  were  Mr.  Raymond 
and  Sir  James  Montague.  Feilding  perforce  defended 
himself,  the  law  not  allowing  him  the  assistance  of 
counsel  on  such  a  charge. 

The  important  part  of  Montague's  opening  speech 
was  as  follows,  slightly  abbreviated  here  and  there  : 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   305 

"  About  a  year  ago  there  was  a  young  lady  left 
a  widow  by  Mr.  Deleau  and  reputed  a  great  fortune. 
Mr.  Feilding  had  a  design  upon  this  lady  and  in 
August  1705  applied  himself  to  one  Mrs.  Streights 
to  contrive  some  method  how  he  might  have  access 
to  this  widow.  Mrs.  Streights  had  no  acquaintance 
with  her,  but  knew  Mrs.  Villars  used  to  cut  her  hair. 
So  they  thought  the  best  expedient  was  to  make 
Mrs.  Villars  their  friend,  that  by  her  interest  he  might 
have  admittance  to  Mrs.  Deleau ;  not  questioning 
but  if  once  she  had  a  sight  of  his  very  handsome 
person  she  would  have  the  same  affection  for  him 
that  he  had  met  with  from  other  ladies.  Mrs.  Villars 
was  promised  ;^500  to  bring  this  about ;  and  though 
she  doubted  whether  she  could  ever  accomplish 
it,  yet  by  these  means  she  might  perhaps  make  a 
penny  of  it  to  herself.  Therefore  she  promised  Mrs. 
Streights  to  use  her  endeavour  to  serve  the  Major- 
General  (meaning  Mr.  Feilding),  though  she  could 
not  be  sure  such  an  overture  would  be  well  received 
by  Mrs.  Deleau.  But  being  acquainted  with  one 
Mary  Wadsworth,  who  was  somewhat  hke  the  widow, 
she  imagined  it  would  be  no  difficult  matter  to  set 
her  up  to  represent  Mrs.  Deleau.  And  accordingly 
it  was  done,  and  Mr.  Feilding  proved  so  intent  upon 
the  matter  that  he  went  to  Doctors-Commons  to 
examine  Mrs.  Deleau's  will,  and  found  that  she  was 
left  very  considerable  " — to  the  extent  of  ^^60,000, 
it  was  stated  later  in  the  trial. 

"  Soon  after  he  went  to  Tunbridge  and  after 
two  or  three  days'  stay  there  returned  and  called 
at  Waddon,  where  Mrs.  Deleau  resided,  with  a 
pretence  to  see  the  house  and  gardens,  but  in  reahty 
to  see  the  widow.     It  happened  that  the  lady  would 


3o6  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

not  be  seen  herself,  but  her  servants  were  permitted 
to  show  him  the  gardens,  and  he  fancied  that  he  had 
a  sight  of  Mrs.  Deleau  too ;  for,  a  kinswoman  of 
her  looking  out  of  window  into  the  garden,  he  con- 
cluded it  could  be  nobody  but  Mrs.  Deleau  admiring 
Beau  Feilding.  About  three  days  after  his  return 
from  Tunbridge,  he  told  Mrs.  Villars  of  his  calling 
at  Waddon,  and  that  he  had  acquainted  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  of  the  fine  gardens  that  were  there, 
which  she  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see,  and  therefore 
directed  Mrs.  Villars  to  go  in  Her  Grace's  name  to 
ask  the  favour  of  seeing  the  house  and  gardens. 
Accordingly  Mrs.  Villars  went  down  to  Waddon ; 
and  Mrs.  Deleau  treated  her  very  civilly  and  told 
her  whenever  Her  Grace  pleased  she  should  see  her 
house  and  gardens  ;  but  as  she  was  a  widow  she  could 
not  attend  upon  her.  Though  the  Duchess  was 
expected  after  this,  she  did  not  go,  for  indeed  she 
did  not  know  anything  of  the  message. 

"  The  next  time  Mr.  Feilding  attempted  to  see 
Mrs.  Deleau  was  at  a  horse-race  at  Banstead  Downs, 
but  he  was  again  disappointed.  After  this  he  sent 
a  letter  to  her  house,  but  the  servants  when  they 
saw  the  name  to  it,  knowing  the  character  of  Mr. 
Feilding,  threw  it  into  the  fire. 

"  When  Mrs.  Villars  found  that  the  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  knew  nothing  of  her  being  sent  to  Waddon 
and  that  it  was  only  a  contrivance  of  Mr.  Feilding's 
to  get  an  opportunity  of  seeing  Mrs.  Deleau,  and 
that  in  truth  he  had  never  seen  her,  she  resolved 
to  play  trick  for  trick  with  him  and  thereupon 
proposed  the  matter  to  Mary  Wadsworth,  whom 
Mr.  Feilding  did  not  know,  and  one  that  could  not 
worst  herself  much  by  such  an  undertaking,  whether 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING    307 

it  succeeded  or  not.  Mrs.  Wadsworth  readily  em- 
braced the  offer,  and  thereupon  Mrs.  Villars  went  to 
Mr.  Feilding  and  told  him  she  had  proposed  the 
matter  to  Mrs.  Deleau,  who  had  at  last  given  a 
favourable  ear  to  it,  and  that  she  did  not  fear  but 
if  matters  could  be  prudently  managed  his  desires 
might  be  accomplished. 

"  A  little  before  Lord  Mayor's  Day,  1705,  Mrs. 
Villars  told  Mr.  Feilding  that  she  had  at  length 
obtained  of  the  lady  a  promise  of  an  interview, 
and  that  she  was  shortly  to  bring  her  to  his  lodgings  ; 
but  he  must  take  care  not  to  let  her  know  they  were 
his  lodgings  or  to  give  her  the  least  cause  to  suspect 
he  had  anything  to  do  there.  Accordingly  Mrs. 
Villars,  the  evening  of  Lord  Mayor's  Day,  brought 
Mrs.  Wadsworth,  in  a  mourning  coach  and  widow's 
dress,  to  the  lodgings.  He  was  not  within  at  the 
time  they  came,  but  being  sent  for  came  soon  after 
and  was  extremely  complaisant.  At  length,  in  spite 
of  the  caution  he  had  received,  he  could  not  forbear 
showing  her  his  fine  clothes  and  what  furniture  he 
had,  and  sent  for  Mrs.  Margaretta  Galli  to  sing  to  her, 
and  pretended  that  he  was  extremely  taken  with  her, 
and  that  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  being  married 
that  night.  She,  with  a  seeming  modesty,  checked 
his  forward  behaviour  and  made  a  show  of  going 
away  in  displeasure  ;  but  before  they  parted  he  pre- 
vailed on  her  to  promise  not  to  put  off  their  marriage 
longer  than  Wednesday  seven-night. 

"  The  appointed  day  being  come,  to  make  him  the 
more  eager  and  shun  suspicion  through  too  much 
forwardness  on  her  part,  the  lady  put  it  off  again 
till  Friday,  November  9th;  at  which  time  Mrs. 
Villars  and  she  came  again  to  Mr.  Feilding's  lodgings, 


3o8  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

where  he  received  them  with  extraordinary  transports 
of  joy.  The  lady  still  putting  him  off  and  making 
as  if  she  would  be  gone,  Mr.  Feilding,  to  make  things 
sure,  locking  them  in  his  apartment,  drove  in  a  hackney- 
coach  directly  to  Count  Gallas's,  the  Emperor's 
envoy,  in  Leicester  Fields,  and  returned  with  one 
Don  Francisco  Drian,  a  Popish  priest  [attached  to 
the  Roman  Catholic  chapel  in  the  Fields],  styled 
The  Father  in  Red,  on  account  of  a  red  habit  he 
wore.    On  his  arrival  the  marriage  took  place." 

Counsel  went  on  to  say  that  after  the  wedding- 
night  the  supposed  widow  Deleau  went  away  with 
Mrs.  Villars  to  Waddon,  as  Feilding  thought,  to 
which  place  he  addressed  letters  to  her,  calHng  her 
The  Countess  of  Feilding,  best  of  wives,  etc.  She 
visited  him  again  twice  at  his  lodgings  before  No- 
vember 25th  (the  reason  for  this  secrecy  being  that 
the  heiress's  father  must  not  know  of  the  marriage, 
having  a  portion  of  her  fortune  in  his  hands).  Once 
more  after  his  marriage  with  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land she  paid  him  a  visit.  "  During  all  this  time 
he  made  her  presents,  furnished  her  with  money, 
and  treated  her  as  his  wife,  until  the  cheat  was  found 
out,  which  was  in  the  following  May.  Then  finding 
how  he  had  been  served,  that  instead  of  marrying 
a  fortune  of  ^60,000  he  had  been  imposed  upon 
and  had  married  one  not  worth  so  many  farthings, 
he  discarded  her  in  great  wrath." 

The  first  and  principal  witness  called  for  the 
prosecution  was  Mrs.  Villars,  who  bore  out  what 
had  been  said  about  her  share  in  the  business,  and 


THE   DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   309 

stated  that  when  the  supposed  Mrs.  Deleau  had 
paid  her  second  visit  after  the  wedding-night,  Feilding 
kept  writing  to  her  to  come  again  soon,  as  he  was 
going  to  leave  his  lodgings  altogether  and  be  with 
Her  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland.^  Mrs.  Wads- 
worth  therefore  came  ;  but  neither  Feilding  nor  his 
man-servant  were  at  the  lodgings.  The  latter, 
however,  came  in  later  and  said  he  had  brought 
his  master's  night-gown  and  slippers  from  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland's.  Apparently  this  did  not  open  Mary 
Wadsworth's  eyes  yet,  for  Mrs.  Villars  explained  thus 
the  manner  in  which  she  was  enlightened  with  regard 
to  the  Beau's  proceedings.  At  the  beginning  of 
May  1706  Mrs.  Wadsworth  sent  to  him  for  money, 
which,  of  course,  betrayed  to  him,  with  his  know- 
ledge of  the  Deleau  will,  that  she  could  not  be  what 
she  had  pretended  to  be.  He  thereupon  sent  for 
Mrs.  Villars  to  come  to  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland's. 
When  she  arrived  he  demanded  to  have  his  presents 
returned,   beat   her,   and   taking  "  a   thing  made  of 

1  In  the  "Articles  exhibited  against  Robert  Feilding,  Esq.,"  in  the 
case  in  Doctors  Commons,  the  24th  Item  says  that,  after  the  marriage 
with  Mary  Wadsworth,  "  the  said  Robert  Feilding,  Esq.  did  tell  and 
declare  to  the  said  Mary  his  Wife,  that  the  most  noble  Barbara, 
Duchess  of  Cleaveland,  had  settled  all,  or  the  greatest  Part  of  her 
Estate  on  him  the  said  Robert.  And  that  if  she  heard  of  his  aforesaid 
Marriage,  he  feared  she  might  alter  her  Mind,  or  retract  what  she  had 
done,  and  not  be  so  kind  to  him.  The  said  Robert,  for  the  Reasons 
aforesaid,  desired  that  his  Marriage  to  the  said  Mary  his  wife  might 
be  kept  private."  In  the  fifth  of  the  seven  letters  to  Mary  Wadsworth 
after  her  marriage,  put  in  as  evidence  against  Feilding  at  both  trials,  he 
writes  :  "  I  have  not  lain  at  my  lodgings  since  I  saw  my  dear  wife ; 
and  this  week  shall  leave  them  altogether,  to  lye  at  Her  Grace's. 
However,  I  shall  always  keep  the  conveniency  to  meet  you  there." 


3IO  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

steel  at  one  end  and  a  hammer  at  the  other,"  vowed 
that  if  she  would  not  unsay  what  she  said  of  his 
marriage  with  the  false  widow  Deleau  he  would  slit 
her  nose  off !  According  to  the  Articles  against 
him  in  the  second  case,  Feilding  "  did  beat  and  abuse 
her  in  a  most  barbarous  and  cruel  way."  He  also 
sent  for  Mary  Wadsworth,  whose  real  identity  he 
had  now  discovered,  to  meet  him  at  the  lodge  at 
Whitehall,  also  called  Whitehall  Gate.  What  hap- 
pened here  is  described  by  one  of  the  subsequent 
witnesses  as  follows  :  "  Mr.  Feilding  came  to  White- 
hall Gate  in  a  chariot,  he  lit  out  of  it.  There  was  a 
hackney-coach  brought  two  women ;  one  of  these 
women  got  out  of  the  coach  and  came  up  to  M'" 
Feilding.  Mr.  Feilding  called  her  '  Bitch.'  The  lady 
called  him  '  Rogue '  and  said  she  was  his  lawful  wife. 
At  that,  Mr  Feilding  having  a  stick,  he  punched  it 
at  her  ;  it  happened  upon  her  mouth  and  made  her 
teeth  bleed.  He  ordered  the  sentry  to  keep  her  till 
he  was  gone,  and  he  would  give  him  a  crown."  It 
was  in  revenge  for  this  brutality  that  Mary  Wads- 
worth  and  Mrs.  Villars  paid  that  visit  to  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  of  which  we  have  already  heard,  and  so  revealed 
the  true  state  of  affairs  to  the  Duke's  grandmother. 

After  some  other  people,  including  the  real  Mrs. 
Deleau,  had  been  put  into  the  box  to  establish  the 
case  for  the  prosecution,  Boucher,  Feilding's  man 
at  the  time  of  the  two  weddings,  was  examined. 
From  his  evidence,  given  in  true  valet  style  and 
wonderfully  modern  in  its  ring,  in  spite  of  the 
two  hundred  years  which  have  elapsed  since  these 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU   FEILDING   311 

events  took  place,  it  appeared  that  soon  after  No- 
vember 25th  he  "  understood  by  some  of  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland's  servants  that  Mr.  Feilding  was  married 
to  my  Lady  Duchess."  Yet  "  about  or  on  the  5th 
of  December,  says  he,  '  Boucher,  get  my  lodgings 
in  order  again,  for  I  expect  Mrs.  Villars  and  the  lady 
to  be  there  '  ;  which  accordingly  I  did.  I  was  sent 
from  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland's  with  his  night- 
gown, cap,  and  slippers.  Mrs.  Villars  and  the  lady 
came  accordingly  that  night,  and  had  a  boiled  chicken 
for  supper."  The  lady  stayed  the  night  and  went  away 
next  morning  in  a  hackney-coach.  This  was  the 
last  time  Boucher  saw  her  at  his  master's  lodgings. 

There  is  much  that  is  amusing  in  the  course  of 
examination  of  the  various  minor  witnesses,  but 
considerations  of  space  do  not  permit  the  quotation 
here  of  what  is  outside  the  limits  of  our  story.  Two 
short  passages,  however,  may  be  permitted  to  intrude. 
Mrs.  Martin,  sister  of  Mrs.  Heath,  Feilding's  Pall 
Mall  landlady,  was  called  to  corroborate  the  circum- 
stances of  the  Wadsworth  wedding,  having  been 
present  in  the  house  at  the  time.  The  following 
dialogue  occurred  : 

Counsel  :  "  Did  you  ever  see  any  body  come 
whilst  they  were  there,  in  an  extraordinary  habit,  red 
gown,  &c.  ?  " 

Mrs.  Martin  :  "  There  was  a  tall  man  knocked  at 
the  door  in  a  long  gown,  blue  facing,  and  fur  cap,  with 
a  long  beard." 

Counsel :  "  Do  you  remember  the  supper  that  night  ? " 

Mrs.  Martin  :  "  I  remember  a  dish  of  pickles." 


312  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

May  we  be  allowed  to  wonder  why  ? 

Mrs.  Heath  herself,  who  said  that  Major-General 
Feilding  took  lodgings  at  her  house  "  about  the 
beginning  of  October  last  was  a  twelve-month," 
when  asked  whether  she  had  heard  or  believed  that 
Feilding  and  Mary  Wadsworth  were  married,  replied  : 
"  I  did  not  believe  it  was  a  marriage  but  a  conversion  ; 
because  his  man  came  down  into  the  parlour  and 
asked  for  salt  and  water  and  rosemary  ;  which  oc- 
casioned these  words.  '  Lord,'  said  I,  '  I  fancy  they 
are  making  a  convert  of  this  woman  '  ;  because  they 
said  it  was  a  priest  above." 

When  it  came  to  Feilding's  turn  to  defend  him- 
self, he  rested  his  case  upon  two  points ;  first,  the 
bad  character  and  untrustworthiness  of  Mrs.  Villars ; 
and  second,  that  Mrs.  Wadsworth  was  married  before, 
to  one  Bradby — a  Fleet  marriage.  When  he  produced 
his  witnesses,  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  replied 
that  they  had  no  occasion  to  defend  Mrs.  Villars's 
reputation,  which  they  did  not  pretend  was  very 
good.  They  could,  indeed,  hardly  do  that,  seeing  that 
she  had  been  in  the  Bridewell  on  one  occasion.  But 
they  insisted  that  Feilding  had  been  imposed  on  and 
had  married  Mary  Wadsworth.  As  for  his  plea 
of  an  earlier  marriage  on  her  part,  they  pointed 
out  that  all  he  had  adduced  was  a  register-book 
from  the  Fleet,  in  which  the  supposed  marriage 
with  Bradby  was  entered  in  a  different  hand  from 
the  rest  of  the  entries ;  no  Bradby,  no  witnesses 
to  the  ceremony,  and  not  even  the  writer  of  the 
entry !    Great  use  was  made  of  Feilding's  own  letters 


THE    DUCHESS    AND    BEAU    FEILDING   313 

(far  from  decent,  it  may  be  remarked)  to  "  Anne 
Countess  of  Feilding "  at  Waddon — Anne  being 
the  Christian  name  of  Mrs.  Deleau,  whom  he  beheved 
Mary  Wadsworth  to  be. 

Mr.  Justice  Powel,  at  the  end  of  a  long  summing 
up,  made  the  following  remarks  to  the  jury  :  "  Gentle- 
men, it  is  a  very  great  charge  upon  Mr.  Feilding, 
it  is  true,  if  there  be  evidence  to  maintain  it.  It 
does  not  really  depend  upon  Mrs.  Villars's  evidence  ; 
for  if  her  evidence  were  to  stand  alone  no  credit 
should  be  given  to  it.  But  as  it  is  supported  by  con- 
curring evidence,  I  leave  it  with  you  whether  it  be 
not  sufficient  to  find  Mr.  Feilding  guilty.  But  if 
you  think  that  Mrs.  Wadsworth's  marriage  to  Bradby 
is  proved  sufficiently,  then  although  you  think  Mr. 
Feilding's  marriage  with  Mrs.  Wadsworth  sufficiently 
proved,  yet  you  are  to  find  for  the  defendant." 

The  jury  having  withdrawn  for  some  time  brought 
in  Feilding  guilty  of  the  felony  of  which  he  stood 
indicted.    Hereupon  it  is  added  in  Cases  of  Divorce : 

"  Mr.  Feilding  (in  case  he  was  found  guilty)  had 
obtained  the  Queen's  warrant  to  suspend  execution 
of  the  sentence  ;  and  then  by  his  counsel  took  ex- 
ception to  the  indictment,  and  moved  in  arrest  of 
judgment  ;  but  they  were  answered  by  the  Council 
for  the  Queen.  But  Mr.  Feilding  having  obtained 
a  suspension  of  the  execution,  the  judges,  by  a  cur 
advisare  vult  (as  the  form  is)  suspended  giving  judg- 
ment till  the  next  sessions,  and  accepted  bail  of  Mr. 
Feilding  then  and  there  to  appear." 

At    the    next    sessions    Feilding's    counsel    waived 


314  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

their  exception,  and  on  his  being  asked  what  he  had 
to  say  why  the  Court  should  not  proceed  to  judgment 
he  "  craved  the  benefit  of  his  clergy."  ^  Then  judg- 
ment was  given,  the  usual  penalty  being  imposed, 
which  was  that  he  should  be  burnt  in  his  hand. 
As,  however,  Feilding  had  the  Queen's  warrant  to 
suspend  execution,  he  was  admitted  to  bail.  The 
cruel  sentence  was  never  carried  out.  Queen  Anne 
exercising  her  clemency  and  pardoning  him.  Possibly 
she  thought  that  he  had  suffered  enough  for  his 
offence  in  being  dragged  into  such  unpleasant  pub- 
licity at  the  Old  Bailey.  Moreover,  there  was  still 
pending  against  him  the  other  suit  brought  by  the 
Duchess. 

The  proceedings  in  Doctors  Commons  resulted 
in  sentence  of  the  Court  being  read  on  May  23rd, 
1707.  There  were  present  at  the  reading  the  Dukes 
of  Northumberland  and  Grafton,  the  Earls  of  Lich- 
field, Sussex,  Jersey,  etc.,  to  see  the  triumph  of  the 
vindictive  old  lady  over  the  Beau.  The  sentence 
was  to  the  effect  that  Robert  Feilding  and  Mary 
Wadsworth,  being  free  from  all  contract  and  promise 
of  marriage  with  any  other  when  they  contracted 
and  solemnised  marriage  on  November  9th,  1705, 
were  man  and  wife  ;  that,  Robert  Feilding  not  having 
the  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes  and  having  on  No- 
vember 25  th,  1705,  contracted  a  pretended  marriage 
with  the  most  noble  lady,  Barbara  Duchess  of  Cleve- 

^  "  The  privilege  of  exemption  from  the  sentence  which,  in  the  case 
of  certain  offences,  might  be  pleaded  on  his  first  conviction  by  every 
one  who  could  read." — Oxford  English  Dictionary. 


THE    DUCHESS   AND    BEAU    FEILDING    315 

land,  this  pretended  marriage  or  rather  show  of 
marriage  was,  from  the  beginning,  void  and  of  no 
force  in  law  ;  and  that  therefore  the  said  most  noble 
lady  "  was  and  is  free  from  any  bond  of  marriage 
with  the  said  Robert  Feilding,  and  had  and  hath 
the  liberty  and  freedom  of  marrying  with  any  other 
person." 

Two  days  later  Feilding  renounced  all  right  of 
appeal  from  the  sentence,  "  for,"  as  he  wrote  to  his 
proctor,  "  I  shall  proceed  no  farther  therein."  One 
might  have  thought  that  the  Duchess  would  now 
rest  content ;  but  she  claimed  that  the  Court  should 
deliver  up  to  her  a  gold  ring  (the  posy  ring,  with  the 
motto  Tibi  soli,  with  which  Feilding  had  wedded  the 
supposed  Anne  Deleau)  and  the  seven  letters  addressed 
to  "  the  Countess  of  Feilding."  Why  she  should 
have  these  is  not  evident.  Nevertheless,  the  Court 
assented,  and  ring  and  letters  were  handed  over  to 
Her  Grace.  Possibly  her  thirst  for  vengeance  was  now 
at  last  satisfied.  At  any  rate,  she  troubled  Feilding 
no  more.  He  survived  her  about  three  years,  but 
never  recovered  from  the  blow  she  had  dealt  him. 
The  memoir  of  him  in  Cases  of  Divorce  for  Several 
Causes  denies  the  Tatler''s  "  conclusion  of  his  venting 
his  dolors  in  a  garret,"  saying  that  "  his  fortune  never 
threw  him  so  low  as  to  be  obliged  to  mount  so  very 
high  in  his  abode."  Nevertheless  it  admits  that 
"  from  this  time  the  affairs  of  our  heroe  declined 
from  bad  to  worse,  till  at  last  his  creditors  were 
pleased  to  bring  their  actions  upon  him,  against 
which  his  only  refuge  remained  of  putting  himself 


3i6  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

into  the  Fleet,  where  the  scene  changed  from  gallantry 
to  drunkery,  which  soon  brought  him  to  his  end." 
"  Drunkery,"  it  appears  from  the  same  authority, 
had  never  been  a  vice  of  the  Beau's  in  early  life. 
Drink  and  gambling  alike  he  had  avoided. 

Feilding  did  not  die  in  the  Fleet  prison.  He  suc- 
ceeded in  compounding  with  his  creditors,  and  went 
to  live  in  lodgings  in  Scotland  Yard — doubtless  the 
garret  to  which  the  Tatler  refers — until  his  death 
on  May  12th,  171 2.  His  chief  consolation  at  the 
end  of  his  life  was  a  reconciliation  with  Mary  Wads- 
worth.  He  left  her  the  sole  executrix  of  his  will, 
calling  her  "  my  dear  and  loving  wife  Mary  Feilding," 
and  devised  to  her  nearly  the  whole  of  what  remained 
of  his  estate,  while  to  his  brother,  nephew,  and  two 
married  sisters  he  left  a  shilling  apiece. 

At  the  end  of  a  work  entitled  An  Historical  Account 
of  the  Life,  Birth,  Parentage,  and  Conversation  of  that 
celebrated  Beau,  Handsome  Fealding  is  to  be  found  an 
"  epitaph  ",  which  may  be  quoted  as  an  example  of 
what  some  thought  humorous  in  those  days : — 

"  If  F— g  is  Dead, 

And  lies  under  this  Stone, 
That  he  is  not  alive, 

You  may  bet  two  to  one  ; 
But  if  he's  alive, 

And  do's  not  lie  here, 
Let  him  live  till  he's  hang'd. 

For  no  Man  do's  care." 


CHAPTER   XVI 

LAST  YEARS  AND   DEATH 

AS  the  result  of  the  Feilding  trial,  the  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  at  the  age  of  sixty-six,  was 
declared  free  from  any  bond  of  marriage  with  the 
Beau  and  at  liberty  to  marry  again.  But  Her  Grace 
is  not  recorded  to  have  shown  any  inclination  to 
try  her  fortune  a  third  time.  Perhaps  at  last  even 
she  felt  it  to  be  time  to  rest.  She  withdrew  from  the 
heart  of  town,  and  retired  to  the  then  quiet  Middlesex 
village  of  Chiswick,  taking  with  her  the  little  Charles 
Hamilton,  her  doubly  illegitimate  grandson.  Strange 
to  say,  of  all  the  children  who  had  the  fortune  or 
misfortune  to  be  brought  up  by  her,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Charlotte  Countess  of  Lichfield,  Charles 
Hamilton  was  the  only  one  to  do  her  credit.  On 
his  grandmother's  death  he  was  sent  to  France  and 
put  under  the  care  of  Charles,  Earl  of  Middleton, 
whom  James  H  had  made  Secretary  of  State  be- 
fore the  Revolution  and,  after  reappointing  him  to 
that  post  in  exile,  created  shortly  before  his  own  death 
Earl  of  Monmouth.  As  has  been  said,  Hamilton  was 
with  his  father  at  the  fatal  duel  with  Mohun  in  171 2. 
Indeed  he  himself  crossed  swords  on  the  occasion 
with  MacCartney,  Mohun^s  second,  and  was  arrested 

317 


3i8  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

and  made  one  of  the  principal  witnesses  at  Mohun's 
trial.  On  his  release  from  Newgate,  after  a  vain 
attempt  to  obtain  satisfaction  from  MacCartney, 
whom  he  accused  of  foul  play  against  his  father, 
he  took  up  his  residence  permanently  abroad,  where 
he  bore  the  title  of  the  Count  of  Arran,  and  devoted 
himself  to  literature.  He  married  and  had  a  son, 
called  like  himself  Charles  Hamilton,  who  wrote 
from  notes  collected  by  his  father  a  work  entitled 
Transactions  during  the  Reign  of  Queen  Anne. 

With  this  grandchild,  then,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
went  to  Chiswick.  Here  she  spent  the  last  two  years 
of  her  life.  Researches  into  the  question  of  her  place 
of  abode  there  have  not  succeeded  in  proving  con- 
clusively where  it  was.  The  Rev.  L.  W.  T.  Dale, 
who  was  vicar  of  Chiswick  at  the  time  when  Steinman 
was  writing  his  Memoir,  could  find  no  record  of  her 
residence  in  the  church  rate-books,  so  that  apparently 
she  could  only  have  been  the  occupier  of  a  furnished 
house.  In  the  years  1723-8  the  Duke  of  Cleveland 
and  Southampton  (Charles  Fitzroy,  on  her  death, 
added  her  title  to  his  own)  figures  as  a  contributor 
to  the  church-rates  to  the  extent  of  30s.,  from  which 
it  seems  as  if  he  continued  the  occupancy  of  his 
mother's  house.  Mr.  Dale  favoured  Walpole  House, 
which  is  still  standing  in  the  Mall  at  Chiswick,  as  the 
home  of  the  Duchess. 

Before  the  time  when  Mr.  Dale  communicated  his 
suggestion  to  the  author  of  the  Memoir  of  Barbara 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  all  connection  of  the  famous 
lady  with  Walpole  House  seems  to  have  been  for- 


Frotn  a  fihotogi-a/i/i  by  Eincjy  Walker,  after  a  painting  by  Sir  iioii/rey  Kncllcr 
in  tbc  National  Portrait  Crallcrv 


BARBARA   VILLIERS,    COUNTESS   OF   CASTLEMAINE 
AND   DUCHESS    OF   CLEVELAND 


LAST   YEARS    AND    DEATH  319 

gotten.  Faulkner  in  his  History  and  Antiquities  of 
Brentford,  Ealing,  and  Chiswick,  published  in  1845, 
merely  says  of  the  place  :  "  Walpole  House  on  the 
Mall  takes  its  name  from  having  been  the  residence 
of  the  noble  family  of  that  name,  several  members  of 
whom  are  buried  in  the  church.  About  sixty  years 
ago  it  was  occupied  by  Mrs.  Rigby  as  a  boarding- 
house,  and  here  Mr.  Daniel  O'Connell  resided  for 
several  years  whilst  he  was  studying  for  the  bar. 
This  family  mansion  has  lately  been  put  into  a  state 
of  repair,  and  is  now  occupied  by  Mr.  Allen  as  a 
classical  and  commercial  academy." 

Walpole  House  has  been  identified  with  the  Misses 
Pinkerton's  select  establishment  for  young  ladies  in 
Vanity  Fair,  although  in  Thackeray's  description 
extraneous  features  have  been  introduced  which  are 
not  to  be  traced  in  the  original.  Had  Thackeray 
known  of  the  notorious  Duchess's  residence  in  the 
place,  could  he  have  housed  those  chaste  scholastic 
ladies  there  ? — particularly  when,  as  a  modern  writer, 
Mr.  Allan  Fea,  tells  us,  the  ghost  of  Her  Grace  is 
supposed  still  to  haunt  the  house  ! 

There  is  little  more  to  be  told  about  the  old 
Duchess  of  Cleveland.  At  Chiswick  she  lived  without 
any  scandal  that  has  come  down  to  us.  When  she 
moved  thither  she  was  about  the  same  age  as  Catherine 
the  Great  of  Russia  when  she  died,  and  she  may  be 
said  to  have  shown  herself  fully  a  peer  of  that  ab- 
normal woman — who  like  her  was  branded  vi'ith  the 
name  of  "  Messalina  " — on  the  infamous  side  of  her 
character.      Catherine    remained    a    victim    of    her 


320  MY    LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

extraordinary  mania  to  the  last.  In  the  case  of  Barbara 
there  is  no  evidence.  Her  presence  at  Court  to  kiss 
Queen  Anne's  hand  in  December  1705  argues  a 
certain  acquired  respectabihty  at  the  age  of  sixty-six, 
but  we  hear  of  no  repentant  death-bed  such  as  her 
rivals  of  Portsmouth  and  Adazarin  made.  In  fact, 
though  she  would  have  been  an  interesting  penitent, 
no  one  apparently  took  the  trouble  to  record  any- 
thing at  all  about  her  death-bed  except  Boyer,  and 
his  account  is  meagre.  Having  referred  to  the  Feilding 
case,  he  says  : 

"  The  Duchess,  having  lived  about  two  years 
after  this,  at  length  fell  ill  of  a  dropsie,  which  swelled 
her  gradually  to  a  monstrous  bulk  and  in  about  three 
months'  time  put  a  period  to  her  life,  at  her  house  at 
Cheswick,  in  the  county  of  A^Iiddlesex,  in  the  69th 
year  of  her  age." 

The  actual  date  of  the  death  was  Sunday,  October 
9th.  The  funeral  took  place  at  Chiswick  parish  church 
four  days  after,  being  carried  out  by  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  "  in  a  manner  privately,"  Boyer  says.  The 
same  writer  gives  the  names  of  the  pall-bearers  as 
"  the  Dukes  of  Ormond  and  Hamilton,  the  Earls  of 
Essex  and  Grantham,  the  Earl  of  Lisford  and  the 
Lord  Berkley  of  Stratton." 

The  choice  of  pall-bearers  seems  rather  curious. 
James,  second  Duke  of  Ormonde,  was  the  grandson 
of  Barbara's  old  opponent,  whom  she  had  in  her 
rage  hoped  to  see  hanged.  Hamilton  was  her 
illegitimate    son-in-law,    if    we    may    so    call    him. 


LAST   YEARS    AND    DEATH  321 

Algernon  Capel,  second  Earl  of  Essex,  inherited 
his  title  as  eldest  surviving  son  of  the  man  who 
left  the  Treasury  in  1679  rather  than  pay  the 
j^25,ooo  claimed  from  it  by  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land. Grantham — Henry  d'Auverquerque,  son  of  a 
naturalised  Dutchman  who  fought  under  the  Prince 
of  Orange — must  have  owed  his  acquaintance  with 
her  to  the  young  Ormonde,  whose  sister.  Lady 
Henrietta  Butler,  he  married.  By  the  Earl  of  "  Lis- 
ford  "  Boyer  appears  to  mean  Frederic  William  de 
Roye  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  one  of  William's  supporters 
at  the  Battle  of  the  Boyne,  and  created  by  him  Earl 
of  Lifford  in  the  Irish  peerage.  His  connection  with 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  cannot  be  traced.  As  for 
Lord  Berkeley  of  Stratton — William  the  fourth  Baron, 
who  succeeded  to  his  father's  title  after  both  his  elder 
brothers  had  borne  it  in  turn — he,  like  Ormonde  and 
Essex,  might  have  been  supposed  to  have  hereditary 
reasons  for  hostility  rather  than  friendship  toward 
her  late  Grace  ;  for  we  have  seen  how  she  and  the 
first  Baron  had  been  at  variance  about  a  large  sum  of 
money.  With  Barbara,  however,  as  with  many  of  her 
kind,  enmity  was  usually  a  caprice.  She  could  be  a 
most  bitter  foe  for  a  moment,  and  then  forget  and 
forgive.  Only  against  Clarendon  and  Southampton 
does  she  seem  to  have  cherished  a  lifelong  hatred  ; 
and  their  attitude  made  all  approach  impossible. 

By  her  will,  which  was  dated  August  nth,  1709, 
the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  made  her  grandson  the 
Duke  of  Grafton  residuary  legatee.  She  had  but 
little    to    leave    except    her    property    at    Nonsuch. 


322  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

This  went  to  Charles  Fitzroy  together  with  her  title 
of  Cleveland.  In  1722  the  Duke  sold  the  remains  of 
Nonsuch,  already  ruined  by  his  mother  soon  after  she 
acquired  it.  With  the  alienation  of  this  property,  the 
extinction  of  the  Cleveland  and  Southampton  peerage 
on  the  death  of  Charles's  son  William  in  1774,  and  the 
pulling  down  of  Cleveland  House  in  the  middle  of  last 
century,  disappeared  the  last  visible  traces  of  the  mul- 
titudinous gifts  to  his  mistress  from  King  Charles  II. 

The  Duchess  was  buried  in  Chiswick  Church, 
but  her  tomb  is  unknown,  as  no  stone  was  raised  to 
mark  the  place.  Perhaps  her  descendants  thought 
that  no  monument  was  required  beyond  the  memory 
of  her  name  which  is  preserved  in  literature.  And 
who  can  say  that  they  were  wrong  ?  Barbara  Villiers 
is  scarcely  likely  to  be  forgotten  while  the  combination 
of  a  face  of  eminent  beauty  and  the  heart  of  an  utter 
rake  has  any  attraction  for  weak  mankind. 


NOTES 


Page  1,  line  3.  In  a  poem  entitled  A  Faithful  Catalogue  of  our  most 
Eminent  Ninnies  (1686). 

Page  I,  line  6.  Burnet,  History  of  My  Orfn  Time,  Supplement 
published  in  1902,  p.  65.  Miss  H.  C.  Foxcroft,  who  edits  the 
Supplement,  assigns  this  fragment  to  the  year  1683. 

P.  I,  1.  II.  Some  sentences  of  this  passage  in  the  History  are 
quoted  elsewhere.  For  the  benefit  of  those  who  are  not  familiar  with 
it,  however,  it  is  here  given  in  full :  "  The  ruin  of  his  reign,  and  of 
all  his  affairs,  was  occasioned  chiefly  by  his  delivering  himself  up  at 
his  first  coming  over  to  a  mad  range  of  pleasure.  One  of  the  race  of 
the  Viiliers,  then  married  to  Palmer,  a  papist,  soon  after  made  earl 
of  Castlemaine,  who  afterwards,  being  separated  from  him,  was 
advanced  to  be  duchess  of  Cleveland,  was  his  first  and  longest  mistress, 
by  whom  he  had  five  children.  She  was  a  woman  of  great  beauty, 
but  most  enormously  vicious  and  ravenous,  foolish  but  imperious,  ever 
uneasy  to  the  king,  and  always  carrying  on  intrigues  with  other  men, 
while  yet  she  pretended  she  was  jealous  of  him.  His  passion  for  her, 
and  her  strange  behaviour  towards  him,  did  so  disorder  him,  that  often 
he  was  not  master  of  himself,  nor  capable  of  minding  business,  which, 
in  so  critical  a  time,  required  great  application  ;  but  he  did  then  so 
entirely  trust  the  earl  of  Clarendon  that  he  left  all  to  his  care,  and 
submitted  to  his  advices  as  to  so  many  oracles." — 1897  edition, 
Vol.  I,  pp.  168-9. 

P.  2,  1.  23.  Letter  of  June  25th,  1745,  in  Clarendon  Press 
edition  oi  Walpole's  Letters  (1905),  Vol.  II,  p.  108. 

P.  2,  1.  29.  We  should  perhaps  add  Boyer,  who,  in  his  obituary 
notice  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  in  Annals  of  Queen  Anne's  Reign, 
after  speaking  of  her  beauty,  says  :  "  Her  other  qualities  of  good 
nature,  liberality,  &c.,  we  shall  not  here  expatiate  upon."  He  has, 
however,  just  called  her  "this  second  Messalina." 

P.  3,  1.  13.  Reported  from  Pope's  conversation,  in  Spence's 
Anecedetes. 

323 


324  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

P.  6,  I.  24.  Clarendon,  History  of  the  Rebellion  (1826  edn.),  VII, 
1 5 1-2. 

P.  7,  1.  23.     Aubrey,  History  of  Surrey  ^  I,  47. 

P.  13,1.  19.  Letters  of  Philips  Second  Earl  of  Chesierfeld  {\%zci), 
pp.  77-81. 

P.  14,  1.  22.     lb.,  86. 

P.  15,  1.9,     /^.,  87. 

P.  16,  1.  4.     lb.,  88. 

P.  17,  1.  5.  Pepys,  Diary,  March  19th,  1665,  ^"^  April  6th, 
1668,  has  even  worse  to  tell  of  the  lady.  And  Cosmo  de' Medici, 
when  he  visited  England  in  March  i66g,  wrote  in  a  letter  to  a  friend : 
"  I  am  truly  not  the  man  to  be  taken  by  the  charms  of  a  Lady 
Carnegie  [that  was  then  her  title],  nor  could  I  ever  submit  to  participate 
in  such  widely  distributed  favours." 

This  same  Cosmo  de'  Medici  admired  Lady  Castlemaine  sufficiently 
to  commission  Lely  to  paint  her  portrait,  along  with  those  of  three 
other  Caroline  beauties,  to  be  sent  to  his  home  in  Tuscany.  Later  he 
had  a  collection  of  sixteen  pictures  of  beautiful  English  women.  The 
Historical  MSS.  Commission,  Report  12,  Appendix,  Part  g,  mentions 
among  the  MSS.  of  Mr.  R.  W.  Ketton  an  unsigned  one  headed 
"Concerning  Florence"  and  dated  October  3rd,  1693.  In  this  the 
writer  speaks  of  seeing  the  sixteen  pictures  at  the  Poggio  Imperiale. 
"  The  Dutchess  of  Cleaveland's,"  he  says,  "  obscured  all  the  rest." 

P.  17,  1.  6.  Letters,  88-9. 

P.  17,  1.  20.     lb.,  90. 

P.  18,  1.  3.  lb.,  93. 

P.  18,1.  9.  lb.,  93-4. 

P.  18,  1.  12.  "Cromwell  and  his  partisans"  had  "shut  up  and 
seiz'd  on  Spring  Garden,  which  till  now  had  been  the  usual  rendezvous 
for  the  ladys  and  gallants  at  this  season,"— Evelyn,  'Diary,  May  loth, 
1654.  With  regard  to  Hyde  Park,  Mr,  Wheatley,  in  his  edition  of 
Pepys,  notes  that  in  1656  there  was  published  a  work  entitled  "The 
Yellow  Book,  or  a  serious  letter  sent  by  a  private  Christian  to  the 
Lady  Consideration  the  first  of  May  1656,  which  she  is  desired  to 
communicate  in  Hide  Park  to  the  Gallants  of  the  Times  a  little  after 
sunset " ! 

P.  18,  1.  29.     Letters,  91. 

P.  19,  1.  10.      lb.,  92. 


NOTES  325 

P.  19,  1.  22.  lb.,  96-7.  Chesterfield  calls  her  Lady  Essex  ;  but, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  Lord  Capel,  her  husband,  was  not  Earl  of  Essex 
until  1 661. 

P.  20,  1.  7.     Letters,  99. 

P.  20,  1.  31.     lb.,  prefatory  memoir,  p.  1 9. 

P.  22,  I.  1.  The  capital  letters  with  which  Boyer  and  his  con- 
temporaries garnish  their  writings  will  usually  be  omitted  from  hence- 
forward. 

P.  24,  1.  12.  It  is  from  the  locality  of  this,  probably  the  bride's 
parish  church,  that  Lord  Anglesea's  house  is  placed  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Ludgate  Hill,  which  fits  in  well  with  the  appointment  made 
by  the  two  girls  in  their  letter  to  Chesterfield  on  p,  17. 

P.  24,  1.  16.  Jesse,  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  England  during  the 
Reign  of  the  Stuarts,  IV,  85. 

P.  24,  1.  3 1 .  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  Charles  II  by  Count  Gramont, 
chap.  VI. 

P.  26,1.  13.     Letters,  102-3. 
P.  27,  1.  8.     Ib.^  103. 
P.  27,  1.  28.     lb.,  104. 

P.  28,  1.  17.  Or  January  i6|2,  ^s  it  is  written  to  show  that  at 
this  time  the  year  was  still  commonly  reckoned  to  begin  on  March 
25th,  although  many  persons  already  made  January  ist  the  first  day, 
as  Mr.  Wheatley  points  out  that  Pepys  did.  See  his  first  footnote 
to  the  text  of  the  Diary. 

P.  28,  1.  25.  In  Rugge's  Diurnal,  which  gives  an  account  of  the 
duel. 

P.  29, 1.  5.     Letters,  105-6. 

P.  29,1.  15.  lb.,  1 1 2-1 3.  "Thenewse  I  have  from  England 
concerning  your  ladyship  makes  me  doubt  of  everything  ;  and  therefore 
let  me  entreate  you  to  send  mee  your  picture,"  etc.  This  news  from 
England  cannot  have  been,  as  the  editor  of  the  Chesterfield  Letters 
supposes,  "  respecting  the  intimate  connection  between  herself  and 
King  Charles  " — unless  the  news  came  from  Holland  via  England 
and  referred  to  that  meeting  between  Barbara  and  Charles  of  which 
Jesse  and  Mrs.  Jameson  speak. 

P.  29,  1.  29.     Jesse,  Memoirs,  IV,  85. 

P.  30,  1.  1 8.  Mrs.  M.  A.  Everett  Green,  Calendar  of  State  Tapers, 
Domestic  Series,  1 660-1 661,  p.  104. 


326  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

P.  30,  1.  25.     Diary i  May  16th,  1660. 

P.  31,  I.  7.  Pepys  certainly  speaks  as  if  the  King  only  gained 
his  way  with  the  lady  later.  From  the  similarity  of  language  it  seems 
that  Boyer,  writing  his  obituary  of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  after  her 
death  in  1709,  must  have  had  the  Williamite  tract  of  1690  before 
his  eyes.  Boyer  says  :  "  Whatever  shews  of  piety  this  Prince  made 
at  Breda,  in  order  to  impose  upon  some  Presbyterian  divines  that 
attended  him  there,  it  was  confidently  affirm'd  that  this  lady  was 
prepar'd  for  his  bed  the  very  first  night  he  lay  at  Whitehall."  The 
Secret  History,  p.  22,  says  :  "  Soon  after  he  arrived  in  England,  where 
he  was  received  with  all  the  pomp  and  splendour  and  all  the  demon- 
strations of  joy  that  a  nation  could  express,  but  then,  as  if  he  had  left 
all  his  piety  behind  him  in  Holland,  care  was  taken  against  the  very 
first  night  that  His  Sacred  Majesty  was  to  lie  at  Whitehall  to  have  the 
Lady  Castlemain  seduc'd  from  her  loyalty  to  her  husband  and  entic'd 
into  the  arms  of  the  happily  restored  Prince." 

P.  32,  1.  24.  Continuation  of  the  Life  of  Edward,  Earl  of  Clarendon 
(1827),  I,  pp.  353,  357-8. 

P.  34,  1.  4.  Calendar  of  State  Tapers  {Domestic)  1 661-1662, 
p.  165.  Another  petition  from  Roger  Palmer,  dated  March  ?,  1662, 
asks  for  "the  reversion  after  George,  Earl  of  Norwich,  and  Hen. 
Wynne,  of  the  secretaryship  of  the  business  and  affairs  of  Wales, 
mortgaged  by  the  Earl  for  ;^2 3,000,  which  debt  was  sold  to  the 
petitioner  "  {lb.,  p.  303). 

P.  35,  1.  10.     Diary,  October  14th,  1660. 

P.  35,  1,  19.  Camden  Society  Publications,  No.  39  (New  Series), 
p.  26. 

P.  36,  1.  5.  In  an  address  to  the  London  Topographical  Society 
on  May  6th,  191 1,  Lord  Welby  discussed  the  site  of  the  Cockpit, 
which,  he  said,  formed  a  very  important  part  of  the  "sporting  ap- 
paratus "  of  Whitehall  Palace  and  therefore  gradually  gave  its  name 
to  the  adjacent  buildings.  He  assigned  its  location  to  the  site  now 
chiefly  occupied  by  the  rooms  of  the  Permanent  and  Financial  Secre- 
taries of  the  Treasury.  During  the  interregnum  first  Cromwell  and 
then  Monk  had  their  apartments  in  the  Cockpit  buildings. 

P.  37,  1.  II.  Lord  Dartmouth,  in  his  annotations  to  Burnet's 
History  of  My  Otun  Time,  speaks  of  "  the  late  Countess  of  Sussex, 
whom  the  King  adopted  for  his  daughter,  though  Lord  Castlemaine 
always  looked  upon  her  to  be  his,  and  left  her  his  estate  when  he  died, 
but  she  was  generally  understood  to  belong  to  another,  the  old  Earl  of 
Chesterfield,  whom  she  resembled  very  much  both  in  face  and  person." 


NOTES  327 

p.  37,  1.  20.     Letters,  1 16-18. 

P.  40,  1.  I.  Quoted  by  G.  S.  Steinman,  Memoir  of  Barbara 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  p.  28. 

P.  42,  1.  13.     Burnet,  History,  Supplement,  pp.  65-6. 

P.  42,  1.  22.     Clarendon,  Continuatiofi,  II,  172. 

P.  43,  1.  12.     lb.,  II,  177. 

P.  43,  1.  29.  A  curious  light  is  thrown  upon  the  lady's  opinion,  a 
few  years  later,  of  the  value  of  Irish  peerages.  In  a  letter  in  the 
collection  of  Sir  R.  Graham,  dated  February  20th,  1665,  a  certain 
George  Walsh  writes  :  "  Ralph  Sheldon  .  .  .  would  marry  Mrs. 
Win  Wells  provided  the  King  would  make  him  an  Irish  Viscount, 
which  I  suppose  will  not  be  denied,  for  (according  to  the  Lady 
Castlemaine's  estimation)  that  honour  is  not  valued  at  above  1000/." 
H.  M.  C,  Rep.  6,  App. 

P.  44,  1.  6 .  Boyer,  Annals  of  Queen  Anne's  Reign,  obituary  of 
Lord  Castlemaine. 

P.  44,  footnote.     Continuation,  II,  171. 

P.  47,  1.  27.     Chesterfield  Letters,  prefatory  memoir,  p.  21. 

P.  48,  1.  7.     Letters,  123. 

P.  49,  1.  3.  Lord  Dartmouth's  note  on  Burnet,  History,  I,  part  2, 
p.  307.     Legge,  according  to  his  son,  never  approved  of  the  match. 

P.  49,  1.  6.  Jesse,  Memoirs,  III,  387^,  collects  some  interesting 
and  amusingly  diverse  descriptions  of  Catherine  of  Braganza,  the 
cruellest  being  Lord  Dartmouth's  :  "  She  was  very  short  and  broad, 
of  a  swarthy  complexion,  one  of  her  fore-teeth  stood  out,  which  held 
up  her  upper  lip  ;  had  some  very  nauseous  distempers,  besides  ex- 
ceedingly proud  and  ill-favoured." 

P.  49,  1.  14.  Continuation,  II,  165.  The  remaining  quotations  in 
this  chapter  from  Clarendon  are  all  from  the  following  pages  of  the 
Continuation,  and  the  references  will  therefore  be  omitted. 

P.  51,  11.  1-6.    Evelyn,  May  30th,  1662  ;  Pepys,  May  25th,  1662. 

P.  52,  1.  23.  Boycr,  in  his  obituary  notice  of  the  Earl  {^Annals, 
July  1705),  explicitly  states  that  he  was  "bred  a  Protestant"  and 
only  turned  Roman  Catholic  after  "  the  misfortunes  of  his  bed." 
Burnet,  as  ue  have  seen,  calls  him  "  Palmer,  a  papist,"  as  if  he  had 
always  been  one. 

P.  57,  1.  19.  This  letter  appears  in  Lister's  Life  of  Clarendon, 
III,  193. 


328  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

P.  58,  1.  10.     Letter  of  January  i8th,  168 1. 

P.  61,  1.  16.     Lansdowne  MSS.f  1236. 

P.  70,  1.  13.  Steinman,  Memoir^  p.  205,  from  the  Dorney  Court 
Muniments. 

P.  74,  1.  33.      Diary^  July  26th,  1662. 

P.  78,  1.  14.  That  is  to  say,  unless  he  was  really  son  of  Colonel 
Robert  Sidney,  as  many  people  believed,  including  apparently  Evelyn. 

P.  79,  I.  8.     Coniinuatiotiy  II,  252-3. 

P.  79,  1.  15.  Pepys,  Diary,  December  24th,  31st,  1662.  On 
October  27th  Pepys  believes  "the  Duke  of  York  will  not  be  fooled 
in  this  of  three  crowns." 

P.  79,  1.  17.     13.,  September  21st,  1662. 

P.  80,  1.  7.     U.,  October  6th,  1662. 

P.  80,  1.  9.     IL,  November  3rd,  1662. 

P.  80,  footnote.  For  one  opinion  of  the  real  source  of  Berkeley's 
greatness  see  Pepys,  Diary,  December  15th,  1662. 

P.  81,  I.  2.     Continuation,  II,  230. 

P.  81,  1.  10.     Diary,  October  24th,  1662. 

P.  81,  1.  22.     Diary,  October  31st,  1662. 

P.  81,  footnote.     Letter  of  June  8th,  1665. 

P.  82,  1,  II.     lb.,  December  15th,  1662. 

P.  82,  I.  13.  Life  of  the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  edition  of  185  i,  IV, 
p.  368.     Carte's  work  was  first  published  in  1735-6. 

P.  85,  1.  9.  This  letter  from  Cominges  was  first  published  by 
Lord  Braybrooke  in  the  Appendix  to  his  edition  of  Pcpys's  Diary. 
Concerning  Cominges,  see  M.  J.  J.  Jusserand,  A  French  Ambassador  at 
the  Court  of  Charles  II. 

P.  85,  1.  21.     Diary,  March  7th,  1663. 

P.  86,  1.  12,     History,  Supplement,  p.  73. 

P.  87,  1.  8.     Diary,  January  19th,  1663. 

P.  87,  1.  30.  Hatton  Correspondence,  I,  64.  The  editor,  Sir  E. 
Maunde  Thompson,  finds  the  story  itself  unsuitable  for  publication. 

P.  89,  1.  24.  Pepys  repeats  the  expression  on  December  26th, 
1667,  when  Frances,  now  Duchess  of  Richmond,  was  expected  back 
at  Court. 


NOTES  329 

P.  90,  1.  6.     Diary,  February  17th,  1663. 

P.  90,  1.   18.      Letter  of  January  4th,  1663. 

P.  91,  1.  2.  Pepys,  Diary,  February  25th,  1667.  Cp.  Allan 
Fea,  Sotne  Beauties  of  the  Seventeenth  Century,  pp.  92-3.  Mr.  Fea 
points  out  that  on  the  copper  coins  of  Charles  II  Britannia  reveals 
much  of  her  leg  ;  and  Frances  Stewart  was  proud  of  her  legs  ! 

P.  91,  1.  5.      Ruvigny  to  Louis  XIV,  June  25th,  1663. 

P.  92,  1.  20.     Diary,  March  ist,  1663. 

P.  92,  1.  22.     lb.,  April  4th,  1663. 

P.  92, 1.  30.      Gramont  Memoirs,  chap.  xi. 

P.  94,  1.  2.     Diary,  May  nth,  1663. 

P.  94,  1.  27.  lb.,  May  2nd,  1664.  Cp.  in  the  entry  for  May 
29th  :  "  Mrs.  Stewart,  very  fine  and  pretty,  but  far  beneath  my 
Lady  Castlemaine." 

P.  97,  1.  I.     lb.,  July  22nd,  1663. 

P.  97,  1.  15.      lb..  May  loth,  1663. 

P.  98,  1.  7.     lb.,  November  6th,  1663. 

P.  100,  1.  I.      The  waters  so7it  vitriolees  et  par  consequent  excitent  le 
vomissement,  according  to  Cominges'  Court  news-sheet  sent  to  Louis  in 
August,  1663,  quoted  by  M.  Jusserand  in  the  Appendix  to  his  French 
Ambassador.      But  Burr,  a  hundred  years  later  {An  Historical  Account  of 
Tunbridge  Wells,  p.  72),  declares  their  taste  "  pleasingly  steely." 

P.  100,  1.  12.     Diary,  August  nth,  1663. 

P.  102,  1.  3.  Pepys,  Diary,  February  8th,  1663.  One  of  Captain 
Ferrers'  choice  stories  actually  hints  at  this. 

P.  102,  11.  17^!^".  Wood,  Life  and  Times  (edited  by  A.  Clark),  I, 
49 1  _^  Wood,  after  describing  how  the  Mayor's  Council  discussed 
the  reception  of  the  royal  visitors,  writes  :  "  [They  determined]  after 
that  was  done  to  present  the  Queene  with  the  richest  pair  of  gloves 
that  could  be  made  ;  then  a  payre  of  gloves  for  the  Duke  of  York  and 
his  dutchess  ;  then  another  paire  to  the  .  .  ."  Here  follows  a  blank- 
Mr.  Clark  says  it  was  suggested  to  him  that  the  words  to  be  supplied 
are  "  Countess  of  Castlemaine,"  or  "  King's  mistress  "  :  but  he  inclines, 
no  doubt  rightly,  to  the  more  charitable  view  that  Wood  had  not  been 
given  the  list  of  nobles  to  whom  gloves  were  to  be  presented  by  the 
City.  In  his  description  of  the  presentation,  Wood  again  writes  : 
"  Then  the  maior  presented  to  the  Queen  a  paire  of  rich  gloves,  and  to 
.  .  .",  with  the  same  blank  in  the  MS. 


330  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

P.  103,  1.  8.     See  Mr.  Clark's  note  on  Wood,  I,  494, 

P.  103,  1.  27.     Diary,  October  13th,  1663. 

P.  103,  1.  28.  This  was  a  not  unfrequent  occurrence  at  Whitehall. 
On  December  7th  of  this  same  year  Pepys  tells  of  the  greatest  tide 
that  was  ever  known  in  the  Thames  the  night  before  and  of  "  all 
Whitehall  having  been  drowned." 

P.  104,  I.  9,     Diary,  October  20th,  1663. 

P.  104,  1.  17.  Letter  of  October  17th,  1663,  quoted  by  Lord 
Braybrooke  in  his  note  on  Pepys,  October  17th,  1663. 

P.  104,  1.  18.      Chap.  VIII. 

P.  105,  1.  9.  Jusserand,  Appendix,  pp.  220-1,  where  this  letter 
from  Cominges  to  Louis  is  dated  November  1st,  1663.  According  to 
Lord  Braybrooke  it  is  dated  October  25-29.  Pepys  on  October  19th 
speaks  of  Catherine  having  "  the  extreme  unction  given  her  by  the 
priests,  who  were  so  long  about  it  that  the  doctors  were  angry  "  ;  and 
by  October  24th  "  the  Queen  is  in  a  good  way  of  recovery." 

P.  105,  1.  24.  Diary,  October  20th,  1663. 

P.  106,  1.  19.  U.,  October  26th,  27th,  1663. 

P.  107,  1.  8.  U.,  November  6th,  1663. 

P.  107,  1.  19.  /^.,  November  9th,  1663. 

P.  108,1.  16.  Cominges  to  Lionne,  December  31st,  1663,  quoted 
in  Jusserand,  Appendix,  p.  224. 

P.  109, 1.  7.  "  Miss  of  State."  Cp.  Evelyn,  Diary,  January  9th, 
1662  :  "The  Earle  of  Oxford's  CMisse  (as  at  this  time  they  began  to 
call  lewd  women)." 

P.  109,  1.  14.     The  "great  Stillingfleete  "  of  Pepys,  Diary,  April 
1 6th,  1665.     Oldmixon,  who  tells  this  story  in  his  Critical  History  of 
England  (1730),   II,    276,  anticipates   events  by  making  Stillingfleet 
already  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  Barbara  already  Duchess  of  Cleveland. 

P.  109,  I.  23.  Letter  of  April  17th,  1664,  quoted  by  Jusserand, 
p.  118. 

P.  1 10,  1.  20.  Pepys,  Diary,  February  8th,  1664.  On  July  loth 
it  is  recorded  that  Lady  Castlcmaine  gives  Lord  Sandwich  her 
portrait — "  and  a  most  beautiful  picture  it  is." 

P.  1 10,  1.  27.  Diary,  April  ist,  1664.  But  contrast  what  is  said 
on  July  I  5th.  Pepys  seems  to  think  that  Frances  Stewart  is  one  whose 
beauty  varies  with  her  dress. 


NOTES  331 

P.  1 10,  1.  29.     lb.,  February  ist,  1664. 

P.  111,1.  12.     H.M.C.  Rep.  6.y  App.     MSS.  of  Sir  Henry  Ingi/iy. 

P.  112, 1.  17.  Steinman,  in  his  Memoir  of  Barbara  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, argues  the  case  well  for  the  change  of  apartments.  He  places 
the  first  set  in  that  part  of  Whitehall  Palace  buildings  which  is 
"  separated  from  the  main  buildings  by  '  the  street,'  a  connecting  link 
between  King  Street  and  Whitehall  .  .  .  and  enclosed  at  either  end 
by  a  gate  ";  i.e.  in  the  Cockpit  buildings,  on  ground  now  covered  by  the 
Treasury.  It  is  here  that  in  Vertue's  map  of  1747,  based  on  John 
Fisher's  survey  of  1680,  is  marked  "Countess  of  Castlemain's 
kitchen."  It  may  be  noted  that  this  site  does  not  answer  very  well  to 
Pepys's  "  chamber  in  Whitehall  next  the  King's  own  "  {Diary,  April 
25th,  1663,  as  quoted  on  p.  93  above),  for  not  only  "the  street,"  but 
also  the  Privy  Garden  separated  the  Cockpit  buildings  from  those  in 
which  the  King  and  Queen  lived  ;  but  perhaps  we  must  treat  Pepys's 
description  as  merely  a  loose  one.  As  for  the  apartments  over  "  the 
hither-gate,"  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  situation  of  the  Holbein  gate- 
house at  the  northern  end  of  "  the  street "  opening  into  Whitehall, 
close  to  the  modern  Horse  Guards.  Steinman  writes  {Secorid  Addenda, 
p.  2)  :  "That  it  had  now  fallen  to  the  use  of  Lady  Castlemaine  is 
clearly  shown,  and  this  fact  goes  far  to  assure  us  that  she  had  sometime 
before  removed  from  her  original  suite  of  apartments  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Street  to  those  of  her  northern  neighbour,  whence,  we  may 
readily  believe,  it  might  be  approached  by  her  Ladyship  without 
venturing  her  fair  person  in  the  air." 

We  cannot,  however,  feel  sure  :  (i)  that  Lady  Castlemaine  did  not 
occupy  the  gatehouse  apartments  from  the  first,  for  it  adjoined  the 
Cockpit  buildings,  and  was  only  separated  from  the  "  kitchen  "  marked 
in  Vertue's  map  by  one  suite  of  lodgings  marked  "  Duke  of  Ormond  " 
— and  Ormonde  was  in  Ireland  from  1662  to  1669,  so  that  his  apart- 
ments might  have  been  occupied  by  someone  else;  or  (2)  that  the  lady, 
if  she  made  a  move  early  in  1664,  ^^^  ^'^^  before  that  actually  in  some 
"  chamber  in  Whitehall  next  the  King's  own,"  as  Pepys  says,  that 
is  to  say,  east  of  the  Privy  Garden.  The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
was  later  lodged  on  the  east  side  "at  the  end  of  the  gallery." 

F.  113,  1.  28.  In  the  possession  of  Mr.  Ambrose  Lee.  It  is 
quoted  by  Allan  Fea,  Some  Beauties  of  the  Seventeenth  Century, 
p.  184. 

P.  114,  1.  18.  Cominges  to  Lionne,  September  15th,  1664.  Jus- 
serand,  Appendix,  229. 


332  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

P.  117,  1.  4.  From  the  Memoirs  it  appears  that  Gramont,  when 
dictating  them,  entirely  forgot  the  year  of  his  marriage,  which  he  only 
mentions  in  his  last  paragraph.  This  marriage  had  been  assigned  to 
the  year  1663,  as  Gramont's  son  was  born  on  September  7th,  1664. 
Within  two  months  after  the  latter  date  he  took  wife  and  child  to 
France.  On  January  28th,  1665,  Cominges  tells  Lionne  that  the 
Chevalier  has  been  in  London  again  for  two  months  and  has  become 
le  plus  effronte  menteur  du  monde.  The  wife's  return  is  not  mentioned, 
though  to  be  present  at  the  Candlemas  Day  revel  she  must  have  come 
back,  at  the  latest,  about  the  time  when  Cominges  was  writing  to 
Lionne. 

P.  118,  1.  4.      Diary ^  September  9th,  1678,  and  elsewhere. 

P.  118,  1.  17.  Pepys,  Diar^y  February  21st,  1665;  Gramont 
Memoirs^  chap.  x. 

P.    118,  1.   27.     Pepys,  Diar^y  March  13th,   1665.     Calendar  of 
State   Papers   {Domestic)    reports    on    March    3rd,    1665,    that    Lord 
Castlemaine  has  landed  at  Dover  and  gone  to  London. 

P.  1 19, 1.  5.  So  Lady  Sandwich  told  Pepys  {Diary ^  February  21st, 
1665). 

P.  120,  footnote.     Pepys,  Diary,  May  15th,  1663. 

P.  121,  1.  4.  See  his  instructions  of  April  4th,  1665,  to  la  ceUbre 
Ambassade,  quoted  in  Jusserand,  French  Ambassador,  Appendix,  pp. 
233-4.  The  ninth  chapter  of  M.  Jusserand's  book  is  of  great  interest 
on  this  period. 

P.  122,  1.  2.  "We  do  naturally  love  the  Spanish  and  hate  the 
French,"  says  Pepys,  October  loth,  1661. 

P.  122,  1.  7.     Letter  to  Louis,  April  23rd,  1665. 

P.  123,  1.  9.  Henry  Savile  to  Lady  Dorothy  Savile,  June,  1665 
{Savile  Correspondence). 

P.  124,  1.  3.  Bigorre  to  Lionne,  July  9th,  1665  (Jusserand,  Ap- 
pendix, 243). 

P.  124,  1.  7.     Courtin  to  Lionne,  July  9th  (Jusserand,  App.,  243). 

P.  125,  1.  17.  H.M.C.  Rep.  14,  App.,  Pi.  2.  Letter  of  October 
2nd,  1665. 

P.  125,  1.  25.     Letter  to  Lionne,  August  30th,  1665. 

P.  125,  I.  31.  Concerning  this  royal  visit  to  Oxford  see  Mr. 
A.  Clark's  edition  of  Wood's  Life  and  Times  and  the  Hon.  G.  C. 
Brodrick's  Memorials  of  Merton  College. 


NOTES  333 

P.  127,  1.  2.  Continuation,  II,  450. 
P.  130,  1.  10.     lb..  Ill,  61. 
P.  132,  1.  14,     lb..  Ill,  60. 
P.  133,1.  15.     7^,111,  61-2. 

P.  133, 1.  20.  "  Mr.  May,"  i.e.  Baptist  or  Bab  May,  of  whom  we 
shall  hear  again. 

P.  134,  1.  14.  Steinman  (Second  Addenda,  p.  4)  discovered  that  the 
_^2000  incurred  for  these  rings  was  among  the  j{^3o,ooo  worth  of 
debts  paid  for  Lady  Castlemaine  by  the  King  at  the  end  of  this  year. 
Concerning  the  huge  transactions  between  Bakewell  and  the  King  see 
Mr.  Wheatley's  note  on  Pepys,  Diary,  July  1  ith,  1665. 

P.  134,  1.  16.  Calendar  of  State  Papers  {Domestic),  1666,  uncertain 
month,  petition  of  John  Leroy.  In  September  Leroy  petitions  again 
for  the  money,  saying  that  he  has  had  great  losses  by  the  burning  of  his 
house  in  the  Fire. 

P.  136,  1.  30.     Letter  quoted  in  Savile  Correspondence,  p.  301  n. 

P.  138,  1.  4.     Calendar  of  State  Papers  {Domestic),  May  23rd,  1666, 

P.  138,  1.  23.      Evelyn,  Diary,  September  6th,  7th,  1666. 

P.  139,  1.  8.     Pepys,  Diary,  September  26th,  1666. 

P.  139,  1.  lo.     Evelyn,  Diary,  October  i8th,  1666. 

P.  140,  1.  24.  Pierce's  theory  as  to  the  lady's  condition,  however 
(Pepys,  October  i  5th,  1666),  does  not  seem  to  have  been  correct.  At 
any  rate,  there  was  no  child  born  that  is  ever  heard  of. 

P.  141,  11.  24^     Pepys,  Diary,  March  20th,  April  3rd,  1666. 

P.  142,  1.  14.  Penn,  on  March  18th,  1667,  told  Pepys  that  he  had 
that  day  brought  in  an  account  of  Richmond's  estate  and  debts  to  the 
King.  Evelyn  gave  Pepys  "  the  whole  story  of  Mrs.  Stewart's  coming 
away  from  Court"  on  April  26th,  1667.  Among  other  arguments 
which  Evelyn  used  to  prove  that  Frances  Stewart  was  honest  to  the  last 
was  that  founded  on  the  King's  keeping  in  with  Lady  Castlemaine, 
"for  he  was  never  known  to  keep  two  mistresses  in  his  life." 

P.  143,  1.  8.     Continuation,  III,  228. 

P.  143,  1.  31.  Coke,  J  Detection  of  the  Court  and  State  of  England 
(17 19),  pp.  155-6.  Coke  was  himself  in  the  Park  on  this  day, 
June  loth. 

P.  144,  1.  22.     Diary,  June  24th,  1667. 

P.  145,  1.  6.     History,  I,  169. 


334  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

P.  145,  1.  20.     Diary,  July  7th,  1667. 

P.  146,  1.  3.     Calendar,  August  29th,  1667. 

P.  146,  1.  31.  Pepys,  Diary,  July  12th,  1667.  He  gets  his  in- 
formation from  Sir  H.  Cholmly.  Sir  Thomas  Crew  confirms  it  the 
same  day. 

P.  147, 1.  28.  Diary,  July  29th.  Next  day  Mr.  Cooling,  my  Lord 
Chamberlain's  secretary,  being  in  drink,  furnishes  Pepys  with  still  more 
details,  couched  in  most  plain  and  vigorous  language — part  of  the  vigour 
being  due  to  Lady  Castlemaine,  who  was  no  stickler  in  her  talk. 
Pierce's  story  is  told  by  Pepys  on  August  7th. 

P.  148,  1.  10.  See,  for  example,  Memoirs,  chap.  vi.  Jermyn  is 
also  the  Germanicus  of  Mrs.  Manley's  Nevf  Atalantis, 

P.  1 48,  1.  16.     Diary,  July  29th,  1667. 

P.  149,  1.  I.  lb.  Pierce,  on  August  7th,  also  says  that  she  "hath 
nearly  hectored  him  [the  King]  out  of  his  wits." 

P.  149,  1.  3.     Pepys,  Diary,  July  30th,  1667. 
P.  149,  1.  5.     In  Epicene,  or  the  Silent  Woman. 
P.  150,  I.  I.      Continuation,  III,  291  ff. 

P.  151,  1.  20.  lb..  Ill,  294.  Pepys  hears  the  same  story, 
November  iith,  1667. 

P.  151,  1.  28.     lb..  Ill,  323. 

P.  152,  1.  2.     Diary,  August  27th,  1667. 

P.  152,  1.  7.  Pepys,  Diary,  September  8th,  nth.  Part  of  this 
tale  was  told  by  a  Mr.  Rawlinson,  who  had  it  from  "one  of  my  Lord 
Chancellor's  gentlemen." 

P.  152,  1.  21.  Carte,  History  of  the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  IV,  152. 
Carte  says  :  "  The  Countess  of  Castlemaine,  whose  understanding  bore 
no  proportion  to  her  power,  and  who  would  have  been  able  to  do  great 
mischiefs  if  her  egregious  folly  had  not  often  defeated  her  measures, 
was  so  outrageous  in  her  opposition  to  the  Chancellor  that  she  openly 
expressed  her  malice  against  him  in  all  places,  and  did  not  scruple  to 
declare  in  the  Queen's  Chamber  in  the  presence  of  much  company  that 
she  hoped  to  see  his  head  upon  a  stake,  to  keep  company  with  those  of 
the  regicides  on  Westminster  Hall.  The  occasion  of  this  fury  was  that 
he  would  never  let  anything  pass  the  Great  Seal  in  which  she  was 
named,  and  often  by  his  wise  remonstrances  prevailed  with  the  King  to 
alter  the  resolutions  which  she  had  persuaded  him  to  take." 

P.  153,  1.  15.  Sir  Peter  Pett  to  Antony  Wood  (?  in  1693), 
Aubrey's  Letters  of  Eminent  Men. 


NOTES  335 

P.  154,  1.  14.     Pepys,  Diary,  September  ist,  5th,  8th,  loth,  1667. 

P.  157,  1.  II.  In  a  letter  to  his  sister,  Duchess  of  Orleans,  on 
May  7th,  1668.  On  August  26th  of  the  previous  year  he  had  written 
to  the  same  :  "  You  may  think  me  ill-natured,  but  if  you  consider  how 
hard  a  thing  'tis  to  swallow  an  injury  done  by  a  person  I  had  so  much 
tendernesse  for  you  will  in  some  degree  excuse  the  resentment  I  use 
towards  her." 

P.  159,  1,  12,  Pepys,  Diary,  March  7th,  1667.  See  Lord  Bray- 
brooke's  instructive  note  there. 

P.  160,  I,  26.     Diary,  April  7th,  1668. 

P.  161,  11.  5,  8.      Evelyn,  April  2nd  ;   Pepys,  April  6th,  1668. 

P.  164,  1.  16.     Pepys,  T)iary,  February  14th,  1668. 

P,  166,  1.  20.     IL,  January  15th,  1669. 

P.  1 68,  footnote.    H. M.C.,  Bucckugh  and  Queensberry  MSB.,  Vol.  I. 

P.  175,  footnote.  Lettres  sur  la  Cour  de  Lords  XIV  {i66/-yo), 
with  introduction  and  notes  by  Jean  Lemoine. 

P.  176,  1.  10.  Charles  declared  his  intention  with  regard  to  the 
new  honours  for  Lady  Castlemaine  and  two  of  her  sons  more  than  a 
month  before  this.  See  an  amusing  letter  from  Henshaw  to  Sir  Robert 
Paston,  July  i6th,  1670  {H.M.C.,  Rep.  6,  App.,  Ingtlby  MSS.). 

P.  176,  1.  18.     Memoirs,  chap.  x. 

P.  178,  1.  26.     Evelyn,  Diary,  December  4th,  1696. 

P.  179, 1.  3.     Letters  of  Chesterfield,  159. 

P.  179,  1.  27.     History,  I,  474. 

P.  180,  footnote.      Lansdowne's  Works,  II,  173. 

P.  181,  1.  3.      Reresby,  Memoirs,  p.  81. 

P.  182,  1.  5.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  12,  App.,  Pt.  V.  Lady  Mary  Bertie 
to  Katherine  Noel,  February  23rd,  167 1. 

P.  184,  1.  3.     H.M.C.,  Rep.  5,  App.,  Hatherton  MSS. 

P.  185,  1.  II.  Carte,  II,  152-3.  It  appears  from  Carte  as  if  the 
King's  attempted  grant  of  Phoenix  Park  to  the  lady  was  about  1663. 

P.  187,  1.  I.  Memoirs,  chap.  xi.  Gramont  goes  on  to  say  that 
"  this  intrigue  had  become  a  general  topic  in  all  companies  when  the 
Court  arrived  in  London  "  from  the  West,  and  that  "some  said  she  had 
already  presented  him  with  Jermyn's  pension  and  Jacob  Hall's  salary.' 
Such  chronology  is  very  Gramontian, 


p. 

187,  1.    22. 

p. 

188,1.    10. 

p. 

188,  1.    15. 

p. 

189,1.4. 

336  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

New  Atalanthy  I,  22. 

Letter  of  November  1 8th,  1748. 

Burnet,  History,  I,  370. 

The  fourth  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  the  letter  quoted 
above,  says  that  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  struck  by  Churchill's 
graces,  "gave  him  ^5000,  with  which  he  immediately  bought  an 
annuity  for  his  life  of  ;^5oo  a  year  of  my  grandfather  Halifax,  which 
was  the  foundation  of  his  subsequent  fortune."  It  appears  that  this 
annuity  was  bought  in  1674  for  ^^4500,  nine  years'  purchase  being 
Lord  Halifax's  usual  price.  (See  Savile  Correspondence.^  Boyer,  in 
the  obituary  of  the  Duchess  in  his  Annals  of  Queen  Anne's  Reign,  speaks 
of  her  "generous  rewarding  of  the  caresses  of  a  handsome  young 
gentleman  of  the  Court "  with  the  sum  of  j^6ooo,  "  which  lay  the 
foundation  of  his  after  fortune."  And  Mrs.  Manley  in  The  New 
Atalantis  says  that  the  Duchess  gave  6000  crowns  for  a  place  in  the 
Prince  of  Tameran's  (Duke  of  York's)  Bedchamber  for  Count  Fortu- 
natus  (Churchill)  and  procured  for  him  a  rise  in  the  Army,  while 
taking  his  "  fair  and  fortunate  sister  "  to  attend  on  herself.  Fortunatus 
then  persuaded  her  to  have  his  sister  transferred  to  the  Princess  of 
Tamerati's  (Duchess  of  York's)  household.  Later  he  was  given  by  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  140,000  crowns  in  cash  alone,  besides  having 
honours  and  places  of  profit  procured  for  him.  It  is  with  little  sur- 
prise that  we  read  Lord  Somers's  opinion  of  Marlborough,  in  answer  to 
Queen  Anne's  request  for  it,  that  he  was  "  the  worst  man  God  ever 
made"  (Macpherson's  History,  Vol.  VIII,  Carte's  Mem.  'Book).  Cp. 
what  Macaulay  says  of  the  Duke's  venality,  Hist.,  chap.  xiv. 
P.  190,1.  20.     Pope,  Sermon  against  Adultery. 

P.  191,  1.  7.  On  the  date  of  production  of  Love  in  a  Wood  see 
Mr.  G.  A.  Aitken's  article  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 
He  shows  fairly  conclusively  that  it  was  first  acted  in  the  early  spring 
before  its  registration  at  Stationers'  Hall  (with  the  dedication)  on 
October  6th,  1671. 

P.  191,  1,  12.  Dennis,  Familiar  Letters  (edition  of  1721),  pp. 
216-7.  Macaulay,  in  his  essay  on  Wycherley,  gives  only  the  tamer 
(and  very  pointless)  version  which  the  Rev.  Joseph  Spence  took  down 
from  the  conversation  of  Alexander  Pope.  Pope  told  the  tale  thus  : 
"  Wycherley  was  a  very  handsome  man.  His  acquaintance  with  the 
famous  Duchess  of  Cleveland  commenced  oddly  enough.  One  day, 
as  he  passed  that  duchess's  coach  in  the  ring,  she  leaned  out  of  the 
window,  and  cried  out  loudly  enough  to  be  heard  distinctly  by  him  : 


NOTES  337 

*  Sir,  you're  a  rascal  ;  you're  a  villain  !  '  Wycherley  from  that  instant 
entertained  hopes.  He  did  not  fail  waiting  on  her  the  next  morning  : 
and  with  a  very  melancholy  tone  begged  to  know  how  it  was  possible 
for  him  to  have  so  much  disobliged  her  Grace  ?  They  were  very 
good  friends  from  that  time  ;  yet,  after  all,  what  did  he  get  by  her?" — 
Spence,  Anecdotes^  p.  i6. 

P,  191,  1.  21.  Love  in  a  Wood,  Act  I,  Scene  2.  The  last  two 
lines  of  the  song  run  : 

"  Great  Wits  and  Great  Braves 
Have  always  a  Punk  to  their  Mother." 

P.  194,  1.  2.     In  Hatton  Correspondence,'^ o\.  I. 

P.  194,  1.  9.     Ih.,  letter  of  January  iSth,  1672. 

P,  194,  1.  22.      Evelyn,  Diary,  September  loth,  1672. 

P.  195,  11.  3,  7.      lb.,  October  9th,  21st,  1672. 

P.  196,  1.  13.  Perhaps  we  should  say  that  he  had  already  done  so 
before  the  marriage  ;  since  the  reversion  of  the  grant  of  June  5th, 
1672,  is  to  Charles  Fitzroy  and  his  heirs  male,  and  in  default  to  Henry 
Fitzroy  and  his  heirs  male. 

P.  197,  1.  19.     Evelyn,  Diary,  October  17th,  1671. 

P.  200,  1.  21.  Letters  to  Sir  Joseph  Williamson  {Camden  Society's 
Publications). 

P.  201,  1.  10.  Hatton  Correspondence. 

P.  201,  1.  27.  Nell  Gwynn  used  a  coarser  word. 

P.  202,  1.  5.  Letters  to  Williamson,  August  25th,  1673. 

P.  205,  1.  4.  Evelyn,  Diary,  September  loth,  1677. 

P.  205,  1.  10.  Derham  to  Williamson,  November  5th,  1673. 

P.  205,  1.  27.  First  published  by  Steinman,  First  Addenda  (1874) 
from  Ashmolean  MSS.  837. 

P.  207,  1.  5.      Camden  Society^ s  Publications  (Old  Series),  No.   52. 

P.  208,  1.  27.  Letters  of  Humphrey  Prideaux,  Camden  Society's 
Publications  (New  Series),  No.  15. 

P.  210,11.  II,  13.  lb..  Letters  of  November  8th,  1675,  and  Octo- 
ber 31st,  1676. 

P.  212,  1.  13.  Evelyn,  Diary,  September  6th,  1676. 

P.  212,  1.  20.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  12,  App.,  Pt.  V, 

P.  213,  1.  16.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  4,  App.,  Bath  MSS. 
z 


338  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

P.  214,  1.  10.     Grant  of  April  7th,  1677. 

P.  217,  1.  7.  First  printed  by  Steinman,  Memoir,  pp.  154-5,  from 
the  originals  in  the  possession  of  Earl  Stanhope.  They  are  undated, 
but  obviously  belong  to  this  period. 

P.  219,  1.  21.     Hatton  Correspondence,  I,  168. 

P.  220,  1.  10.  The  Convent  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  rue  Neuve  de 
Bellechase,  Saint-Germain,  within  the  walls  of  Paris. 

P.  220,  1.  12.     Hatton  Correspondence^  I,  167. 

P.  220, 1.  14.  In  The  Adventures  ofRivella  there  is  a  somewhat  dif- 
ferent version  of  the  Montagu  affair  :  '*  During  the  short  stay  Rivella 
had  made  in  Hilarias  family,  she  was  become  acquainted  with  the  Lord 
Crafty.  He  had  been  Ambassador  in  France,  where  his  negotiations 
are  said  to  have  procured  as  much  advantage  to  your  King " — the 
supposed  narrator  of  The  Adventures,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  con- 
versing with  a  young  French  Chevalier — "  as  they  did  dishonour  to  his 
own  country.  He  had  a  long  head  turn'd  to  deceit  and  over-reaching. 
If  such  a  thing  were  to  be  done  two  ways,  he  never  lov'd  the  plain, 
nor  valu'd  a  point  if  he  could  easily  carry  it.  His  person  was  not  at 
all  beholding  to  nature,  and  yet  he  had  possessed  more  fine  women 
than  had  the  finest  gentleman,  not  less  than  twice  or  thrice  becoming 
his  master's  rival.  When  Hi/aria  was  in  France  he  found  it  extreamly 
convenient  for  his  affairs  to  be  well  with  her,  as  she  was  mistress,  and 
himself  Ambassador.  For  some  time  'tis  supposed  that  he  lov'd  her 
out  of  inclination,  her  own  charms  being  inevitable  ;  but  finding  she  was 
not  very  regular,  he  reproach'd  her  in  such  a  manner  that  the  haughty 
Hi/aria  vow'd  his  ruin.  She  would  not  permit  a  subject  to  take  that 
freedom  she  would  not  allow  a  monarch,  which  was,  prescribing  rules 
for  her  conduct.  In  short,  her  power  was  such  over  the  King,  tho' 
he  was  even  then  in  the  arms  of  a  new  and  younger  mistress,  and 
Hi/aria  at  so  great  a  distance  from  him,  as  to  yield  to  the  plague  of  her 
importunity  with  which  she  fill'd  her  letters.  He  consented  that  Lord 
Crafty  should  be  recall'd,  upon  secret  advice  that  she  pretended  to  have 
received  of  his  corruption  and  treachery.  The  Ambassador  did  not 
want  either  for  friends  in  England,  nor  in  Hilaria^s  own  family,  who 
gave  him  very  early  advice  of  what  was  design'd  against  him.  He  had 
the  dexterity  to  ward  the  intended  blow,  and  turn  it  upon  her  that  was 
the  aggressor  ;  Hi/aria's  own  daughter  betray 'd  her  to  the  Ambassador. 
He  had  corrupted  not  only  her  heart,  but  seduced  her  from  her  duty 
and  integrity.  Her  mother  was  gone  to  take  the  Bourbon  waters, 
leaving  this  young  lady  the  care  of  her  family,  and  more  immediately 


NOTES  339 

of  such  letters  as  a  certain  person  should  write  to  her,  full  of  amorous 
raptures  for  the  favours  she  had  bestow'd.  These  fatal  letters,  at  least 
several  of  them  with  answers  full  of  tenderness  under  Hilaria's  own 
hand,  the  Ambassador  proved  so  lucky  as  to  make  himself  master  of. 
He  return'd  with  his  credentials  to  England  to  accuse  Hilaria  and 
acquit  himself.  The  mistress  was  summon'd  from  France  to  justify 
her  ill  conduct.  What  could  be  said  against  such  clear  evidences  of 
her  disloyalty  ?  'Tis  true,  she  had  to  deal  with  the  most  merciful 
Prince  in  the  world,  and  who  made  the  largest  allowances  for  human 
frailty,  which  she  so  far  improv'd  as  to  tell  His  Majesty  there  was 
nothing  criminal  in  a  correspondence  design'd  only  for  amusement, 
without  presuming  to  aim  at  consequences  ;  the  very  mode  and  manner 
of  expression  in  French  and  English  were  widely  different  ;  that 
which  in  one  language  carried  an  air  of  extream  gallantry  meant  no 
more  than  meer  civility  in  t'  other.  Whether  the  Monarch  were,  or 
would  seem  persuaded,  he  appear'd  so,  and  order'd  her  to  forgive  the 
Ambassador  ;  to  whom  he  return'd  his  thanks  for  the  care  he  had 
taken  of  his  glory,  very  much  to  Hilaria  s  mortification,  who  was  not 
suffer'd  to  exhibit  her  complaint  against  him,  which  was  look'd  upon  as 
proceeding  only  from  the  malice  and  revenge  of  a  vindictive  guilty 
woman."  [The  Lord  Crafty  in  the  above  is,  of  course,  Ralph 
Montagu.] 

For  Montagu's  attempted  defence  of  himself  when  he  got  back  to 
London  see  a  long  letter  dated  July  6th,  1678,  from  Sir  Robert  South- 
well to  the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  which  is  among  the  MSS.  of  the 
Marquess  of  Ormonde  {H.M.C.,  Ormonde  MSS.,  Vol.  IV.).  Among 
other  things  Montagu  says  that,  King  Charles  having  entrusted  to  him 
the  compassing  of  a  marriage  between  Northumberland  and  Lady 
Elizabeth  Percy,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  and  his  wife  became 
friends  of  a  sort.  "  But  his  Lady  being  (on  a  visit  to  the  Duchess) 
forbid  admission  because  Monsieur  Chattillean  [j/V]  was  with  her,  she 
returned  in  high  resentment,  so  that  he,  seeing  the  designed  marriage  in 
danger,  took  on  him  to  expostulate  very  roundly  with  the  Duchess  for 
her  licentious  course  of  life  with  the  said  Monsieur  "—with  the  result 
that  might  be  expected.  To  protect  himself,  therefore,  he  had  six  of 
her  letters  stolen,  whereof  some  abounded  with  gross  and  unseemly 
things,  some  with  disrespect  to  His  Majesty,  etc.  In  fact,  the  mischief 
was  all  due  to  the  Duchess  and  Chatillon.  Montagu  had  no  chance  of 
telling  Charles  this,  however,  for  as  soon  as  he  began  the  King  cut  him 
short,  saying  that  he  knew  already  too  much  of  it,  and  forbade  him  the 
Court. 


340  MY   LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

P.  22  1,  1.  I.  Harleian  MSS.,  7006,  pp.  171-6.  This  is  taken 
from  a  copy  made  by  the  Rev.  George  Harbin  in  173 1  from  the 
original  letter,  then  in  the  possession  of  the  Earl  of  Berkshire.  The 
punctuation  follows  Harbin,  with  a  few  modifications.  It  is  clearly 
not  the  Duchess's  own.      See  next  note. 

P.  228,1.  13.  British  Museum  Additional  MSS.,  21,  505.  This 
being  the  original  letter,  the  Duchess's  spelling  has  been  carefully  pre- 
served. With  regard  to  the  punctuation,  the  full  stops,  the  colons, 
and  the  commas  have  been  added  for  the  sake  of  clearness ;  as 
also  a  few  quotation-marks  for  the  speeches  reported.  The  writer  used 
no  stops  at  all  except  ten  semicolons !  [In  the  cases  of  both  this  and 
the  other  letter  from  Paris  I  have  consulted  the  actual  MSS.  in  the 
British  Museum,  so  that  the  transcripts  may  claim  to  be  more  accurate 
than  those  which  have  appeared  hitherto  in  print,  previous  editors 
having  taken  some  liberties  with  the  text. — P.W.S.] 

P.  232,  1.  20.  The  Abbey  of  Our  Lady,  Port  Royal  des  Champs, 
near  Versailles. 

P.  236,  1.  16.     H.M.C.,  Rep.  12,  J  pp.,  Pt.  V. 

P.  237,  1.  3.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  7,  Jpp.  W.  Denton  to  Sir  Ralph 
Verney,  September  14th,  1671  :  "I  hear  Thin  is  laid  siege  to  Lady 
Cleveland's  daughter." 

P.  237,  1.  21.  A  Brief  Historical  Relation  of  State  Af airs  from  Sep- 
tember, 1678,  to  April,  1714.  This  diary  of  Narcissus  Luttrell  is  by 
no  means  as  ponderous  as  its  title  would  indicate.  This  will  be  clear 
from  our  quotations. 

P.  237,  footnote.     H.M.C.,  Buccleugh  and  Oueensberry  MSS. 

P.  240,  1.  13.      Letter  of  August  i6th,  1679. 

P.  241,  1.  13.  Hatton  Correspondence,  Letter  of  November  22nd, 
1677.  Compare  what  Dorothy,  wife  of  Sir  William  Temple,  writes 
to  her  father  in  1684  :  "If  papa  were  near,  I  should  think  myself  a 
perfect  pope,  though  I  hope  I  should  not  be  burned  as  there  was  one 
at  Nell  Gwynn's  door  the  5th  of  November,  who  was  set  in  a  great 
chair,  with  a  red  nose  half  a  yard  long,  with  some  hundreds  of  boys 
throwing  squibs  at  it." 

P.  242,  1.  10.  The  Tozoer  Bills  show  that  Lord  Castlemaine  was 
in  the  Tower  in  the  Christmas  quarter  of  1678,  the  Christmas  quarter 
of  1679,  and  the  Lady  Day  and  Midsummer  quarters  of  1680. 

P.  242, 1.  13.     Hatton  Correspondence,  I,  200. 


NOTES  341 

P.  243, 1.  23.  Evelyn,  Diary,  December  4th,  1679.  ^^  '^  now  that 
he  declares  Cleveland  House  "  a  noble  palace,  too  good  for  that  in- 
famous .   .  .,"  as  already  quoted  on  p.  178. 

P.  244,  1,  15.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  I2.y  App.,  Pt.  V.  But  see  also  a 
letter  from  the  Countess  of  Northampton  on  June  loth. 

P.  245, 1.  2.  H.M.C.y  1{ep.  12,  App.,  Pt.  V.  Letter  dated  i68i, 
November  15,  from  Chaloner  Chute  to  the  Countess  of  Rutland. 

P.  245,  1.  27.  Steinman,  First  Addenda,  pp.  1 1,  12.  The  letter 
is  dated  March  17th,  1683,  i.e.  168-^,  or,  as  we  now  write,  1684. 

P.  246,  1.  27.     Evelyn,  Diary,  October  24th,  1684. 

P.  247,  1.  3.  Memoirs  of  John  Macky,  p.  39,  quoted  by  Jesse, 
Memoirs  of  ike  Court  of  England  during  the  Reign  of  the  Stuarts,  IV, 
p.  62.  With  regard  to  his  betrayal  of  James  II,  the  King  on  the 
night  of  December  i  ith  confided  to  the  Duke  his  determination  to  fly, 
desiring  him  to  keep  it  a  profound  secret.  He  left  Whitehall  Stairs  by 
boat  about  3  a.m.,  and  when  the  door  of  the  royal  bedchamber  was 
thrown  open  at  the  usual  hour  of  the  levee,  the  Duke  came  out  and 
told  the  crowd  waiting  in  the  antechamber  that  James  had  fled. 
"  Having  performed  this  last  act  of  kindness  for  his  sovereign,"  says 
Jesse  (IV,  414),  "the  Duke  .  .  .  immediately  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  regiment  of  guards  and  declared  for  the  Prince  of 
Orange." 

P.  248, 1.  29.  See  the  article  on  Goodman  in  Dictionary  of 'National 
Biography. 

P.  249,  1.  6.  Luttrell  in  August  1685  describes  how  "the 
picture  of  the  late  Duke  of  Monmouth,  which  was  drawn  by  Sir 
Peter  Lely,  and  given  to  the  University  of  Cambridge  when  he  was 
their  chancellor  [elected  in  1674],  is  lately,  together  with  the  frame, 
burnt  by  order  before  the  schools  of  the  University." 

P.  250, 1.  16.  History  of  England  during  the  Reign  of  the  Royal  House 
of  Stuart,  II,  576. 

P.  251,  1.  5.  Anne,  Countess  of  Sunderland,  to  Henry  Sidney, 
January  8th,  1680. 

P.  25 1,  1.  9.  The  following  is  a  rough  list  of  the  chief  ascertainable 
gifts  from  Charles  II  to  Barbara  : — 

February,    1663.     All  the  King's  Christmas  presents  from  the 

peers  (p.  92). 
(?)    1663.       Phoenix   Park,  Dublin,  afterwards   withdrawn   (see 
below). 


342  MY    LADY   CASTLEMAINE 

December,  1666.     j^30,ooo  to  pay  her  debts  (p.  141). 

August  29th,  1667.      5600  oz.  of  silver-plate  (p.  146). 

April,  1668.      Berkshire  House  (p.  64). 

1669.     _^4700  a  year  out  of  the  Post  Office  revenues  (p.  171). 

January,  1671.      Nonsuch  House  and  park  (p.  182). 

(Before  August  9th)  1671.     "_^ 1 0,000  a  year  more"  from  the 

Customs;   "likewise  near  j^  10,000  a  year  out  of  the  new 

farm  of  the  county  excise  of  beer  and  ale  "  ;    and  various 

reversions  (p.  184). 
February,  1672.     Manors,  etc.,  in  Surrey.     Large  grants  to  her 

children  in  this  and  the  following  years  (pp.  186,  196,  202). 
July,  1673.     A  (J  new)  pension  of  ^^  5  5  00  from  the  wine  licence 

revenue,  and  other  minor  gifts  (pp.  202-3). 
1674.    Large  grants  to  her  daughters  on  their  marriages  (p.  206). 
October  9th,  1674.     £6000  a  year  from  the  Excise  (p.  208). 
1676.     Compensation  for  the  withdrawn  grant  of  Phoenix  Park 

(p.  185). 
April  7th,   1677.     Chief  Stewardship,  etc.,  of  Hampton  Court 

(p.  214). 
1679.     Gift  of  j^25,ooo  which   Essex  refused  to  pay,  but  his 

successor  paid  (p.  252). 
1684-5.     Payment  of  ^1599  out  of  the  secret  services  fund  of 

Charles  II  (p.  250,  251). 

P.  251,  11.  13,  30.  See  article  on  Essex  by  Mr.  Osmund  Airy  in 
Dictionarf  of  National  biography.  The  letter  is  in  H.M.C.,  Rep.  7, 
App.^  477  b.      (John  Verney  to  Sir  Ralph  Verney,  Nov,  27th,  1679.) 

P.  253,  1.  6.  Dr.  Raymond  Crawfurd,  in  his  painfully  interesting 
monograph,  The  Last  Days  of  Charles  II,  says  :  "  One  may  assert,  with 
considerable  confidence,  that  his  death  was  due  to  chronic  granular  kidney 
(a  form  of  Bright's  disease),  with  uraemic  convulsions,  a  disease  that 
claims  the  highest  proportion  of  its  victims  during  the  fifth  and  sixth 
decades  of  life." 

P.  254,  1.  8.     Hatton  Correspondence. 

P.  256,  1.  6.  Lord  Chesterfield,  writing  to  the  Earl  o'i  Arran  on 
February  7th,  1685,  says  in  his  decidedly  touching  account  of  King 
Charles's  deathbed  (he  was  present  for  two  whole  nights  and  saw  him 
expire)  :  "  Lastly,  he  asked  his  subjects'  pardon  for  anything  that  had 
been  neglected,  or  acted  conterary  to  the  best  rules  of  a  good  govern- 
ment."— Letters,  p.  279. 

P.  256,  i.  14.     Burnet,  History,  II,  461. 


NOTES  343 

P.  258,  1.6.     U.,l,i6g. 

P.  261,  1.  10.     Luttrell,  February  2nd,  1685, 

P.  264,  I.  9.     Luttrell,  June,  1685. 

P.  264,  I.  14.  News-letter  of  July  7th,  1685,  among  the  Rutland 
MSS.     {H.M.C.,  Rep.  12,  App.,  Pt.  F.) 

P.  265,  1.  4.     El/is  Correspondence^  Letter  of  March  15th,  1686. 

P.  265, 1.  9.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  I2y  App.y  Pt.  V.  Letter  of  March  1 3th, 
1686. 

P.  265,  1.  12.     Poems  on  Affairs  of  State,  II,  54. 

P.  266,  1.  2.  "  A  song  to  the  old  tune  of  Taking  of  Snuff  is  the 
Mode  of  the  Court,"  in  Poems  on  Affairs  of  State.  Jesse,  Memoirs, 
IV,  63,  quotes  both  this  and  another  entertaining  poem,  "The  Lovers* 
Session,"  which  contains  the  line  about  Northumberland's  "  beautiful 
face  and  dull  stupid  carriage  "  and  goes  on  : 

"  But  his  prince-like  project  to  kidnap  his  wife, 
And  a  lady  so  free  to  make  pris'ner  for  life, 
Was  tyranny  to  which  the  sex  ne'er  would  submit, 
And  an  ill-natured  fool  they  liked  worse  than  a  wit." 

P.  266,  1.  16.  H.M.C.,  Rep.  12,  App.y  Pt.  V.  Letter  of  March 
13th,  1686. 

P.  267,  1.  15.     Luttrell,  February,  1687. 

P.  267,  1.  27.     Wellwood,  p.  185. 

P.  268,  1.  10.     Memoirs,  II,  78. 

P.  270,  1.  5.  Original  Treasury  Papers,  IV,  3,  quoted  by  Steinman, 
First  Addenda,  p.  15. 

P.  271,  1.  28.      Evelyn,  August  i8th,  1688. 

P.  272,  1.  2.  Reresby  gives  a  different  reason,  that  he  "had,  at  a 
meeting  of  the  Scotch  nobility  in  London,  proposed  to  recall  King 
James." 

P.  272,  1.  17.  In  Esmond  Viscount  Castlewood  takes  the  place  of 
the  Duke  of  Hamilton. 

P.  273,  1.  I.     Cunningham,  Handbook  of  London. 

P.  276,  1.  31.  The  "  kitchin-maid,"  according  to  the  Complcat 
Key,  is  "pretended  Madam  Beauclair." 

P.  280,  1.  13.  "The  first  Dutchess  in  England,"  i.e.  the  Duchess 
of  Norfolk. 


344  MY   LADY    CASTLEMAINE 

P.  284,  1.  5.  See  quotation  from  the  Earl  of  Dorset's  poem  at  the 
head  of  chapter  i. 

P.  284,  1.  17.     Kneller's  picture  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery, 

P.  288,1.  17.  See  C.  E.  Lart,  Jacobite  Extracts  from  the  Parish 
Registers  of  St.  Germain-en- Lay e  (1910),  Vol.  I. 

P.  290,  11.  3,  24^  Steinman,  First  Addenda,  pp.  16-18,  from 
Treasury  Papers. 

P.  291,  footnote.     H.M.C.,  Rep.  14,  App.,  Pt.  II. 

P.  293, 1.  13.  James  Caulfield,  Portraits,  Memoirs,  and  Character  of 
Eminent  Persons,  on  Beau  Feilding.  This  is  not  an  authoritative  work, 
but  its  compiler  had  access  to  information  now  lost. 

P.  294,  1.  I,      Tatler,  No.  50  (August  4th,  1709). 

P.  297,  1.  18.  First  edition,  1715  ;  second  and  enlarged  edition, 
1723- 

P.  297,  1.  24.  He  appears  as  "  Colonel  Robert  Fielding "  in 
A  Jacobite  Narrative  of  the  War  in  Ireland,  his  regiment  being  one  of 
those  sent  to  France  in  the  April  of  1690,  in  exchange  for  some 
French  regiments  which  James  had  asked  Louis  to  send  him  (pp.  89, 
92).  The  Narrative  does  not  say  whether  the  Colonel  accompanied 
his  regiment  or  not. 

P.  298,  1.  14.     Tatler,  No.  50. 

P.  299,  1.  31.     Went-vforth  Papers,  p.  50. 

P.  300,  1.  7.  Atterburfs  Correspondence,  II,  31.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  Dryden  calls  Zvnri  "  Blest  madman  !  " 

P.  301,  1.  23.     Wentworth  Papers,  pp.  58-9. 

P.  302, 1.  12.  Pasted  in  Harleian  MSS.,  5808,  p.  135.  Quoted  by 
Steinman,  Second  Addenda,  p.  14. 

P.  304,  1.  7.  See  Howell,  State  Trials,  XIV,  cols.  1327-72,  for 
a  report  of  the  whole  proceedings  ;  and  Cases  of  Divorce  for  a  part 
account. 

P.  304, 1.  28.  As  Montague  put  it  in  his  opening  speech,  "though 
the  law  doth  not  take  away  from  him  that  shall  be  convicted  thereof 
[bigamy,  a  crime  amounting  to  felony]  the  benefit  of  his  clergy,  yet  it 
is  such  a  crime  as  doth  take  away  from  the  prisoner  the  assistance  of 
counsel." 

P.  309,  footnote.  The  "Articles"  are  given  in  full  in  Cases  of 
Divorce,  as  are  the  seven  letters  from  Feilding  to  Mary  Wadsworth. 


NOTES  345 

P.  316,  1.  9.  Tatkr,  No.  51  (August  6th,  1709)  :  "  Orlando  now 
raves  in  a  garret,  and  calls  to  his  neighbour  skies  to  pity  his  dolors  and 
find  redress  for  an  unhappy  lover." 

P.  3 1 7>  ^-  21.  See  articles  on  Charles  Hamilton  and  James  Douglas, 
fourth  Duke  of  Hamilton,  in  Dictionary  of  National  Biography.  Mr. 
Martin  Haile  in  his  James  Francis  Edvtard,  the  Old  Chevalier^ 
pp.  128-9,  sets  out  well  the  reasons  for  thinking  that  the  killing  of 
the  Duke  of  Hamilton  was  a  treacherous  murder  by  those  whom 
Swift  calls  "  the  two  most  abandoned  wretches  that  ever  infested  this 
island  " — Mohun  and  MacCartney.  Had  the  Duke  gone  to  France 
as  Queen  Anne's  ambassador  (which  he  was  on  the  point  of  doing) 
the  Jacobite  cause  might  have  been  saved.  And  young  Hamilton,  in 
his  evidence  at  the  trial,  charged  MacCartney  with  thrusting  at  his 
father  as  he  lay  on  the  ground  wounded.  In  17 19  MacCartney  was 
rewarded  with  the  governorship  of  Portsmouth. 

P.  319,  1.  3.  Thomas  ¥2i\AV.ner,  History  and  Antiquities  of  Brentford, 
Ealing,  and  Chiszoick,  p.  384.  Mr.  Lloyd  Sanders,  in  his  Old  Kezv, 
Chiszvick  and  Kensington,  says  that  Walpole  House  was  a  school  for 
young  gentlemen  as  early  as  1 8 1 7  and  that  Thackeray  was  one  of  the 
pupils  there. 

P.  3 1 9, 1.  2 1 .  Fea  (Some  Beauties,  etc.,  p.  1 90)  states  that  "the  spirit 
of  the  once  lovely  Barbara  is  said  to  haunt  a  room  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  building  [Walpole  House]  wringing  her  hands  and  bemoaning  the 
loss  of  her  beauty  " — which,  he  points  out,  is  an  unreasonable  thing  for 
the  spirit  to  do,  seeing  that  Kneller's  portrait  of  her  in  the  National 
Portrait  Gallery  shows  that  she  retained  her  good  looks. 

P.  321,  1.  13.  On  the  Lifford  peerage  see  G,  E.  C[okayne], 
Complete  Peerage,  Vol.  V,  p.  77.  Frederic  William  appears  to  have 
been  created  Earl  in  July,  1698,  but  no  patent  seems  to  have  been 
enrolled. 

ADDENDUM 

P.  122,  1.  12.  On  Lauderdale's  acquaintance  with  Lady  Castle- 
maine  Mr.  John  Willcock,  in  J  Scots  Earl  in  Covenanting  Times 
(p.  1 1  7),  writes  :  "  We  are  told  on  good  authority  that  friendshij)  is 
impossible  among  the  wicked,  so  it  is  certain  that  the  alliance  in  ques- 
tion was  a  purely  mercenary  contract.  As  the  royal  mistress  was 
ravenously  greedy,  one  is  not  surprised  to  find  that  before  Lauderdale 
had  been  long  associated  with  her  he  was  in  straits  for  ready  money. 
From  some  quarter  he  must  have  obtained  a  fresh  supply,  for  the 
Countess  was  unfailing  in  her  support  of  him  against  all  his  enemies." 


INDEX 


Addison,  Joseph,  294 
Anglesea,     Earl     of    (Charles 
Villiers),  7,   13,   16,    17,   23, 

36,  325 

Anglesea,  Lady,  see  Mary 
Bayning 

Anne,  Princess,  afterwards 
Queen,  35,  216,  291,  300, 
320,  336,  345 

Arlington,  Earl  of  (Henry 
Bennet),  80,  84,  104,  107, 
120,  151,  168;/.,  169,  194-5, 
204-5,  206,  236,  238-9 

Arlington,  Lady,  238 

Arran,  Earl  of  (James  Douglas, 
afterwards  Duke  of  Hamil- 
ton), 271-2,  317,  320,  342, 

343>  345 
Arran,    Count   of,   see  Charles 

Hamilton,  senior 
Arundel  of  Wardour,  Lord,  242 
Atterbury,  Dr.  Francis,  300 
Aubrey,  John,  7,  129  n. 

Bakewell,  Edward,  134,  ■^Ty^i 
Barillon  (French  Ambassador), 

256 
Bath,  Countess  of,  75 
Batten,  Sir  William,  152 
Bayning,  Elizabeth,  205  n. 
Bayning,  Mary,  5,  7,  13,  16,  23, 

197-8,  205;/. 
Bayning,  Paul,  ist  Viscount,  5, 

205  n. 
Beauclerc,  Charles  (afterwards 

Duke  of  St.   Albans),    202, 

246 
Bennet,  Sir  Henry,  see  Earl  of 

Arlington 


Bennet,  Isabella  (afterwards 
Duchess  of  Grafton),  195-6, 

237-9.  247 

Berkeley,  Sir  Charles  (after- 
wards Viscount  Fitzharding 
and  Earl  of  Falmouth),  80, 
84,  88,  89,  102,  no,  120, 
122,  258,  328 

Berkeley  of  Stratton,  John,  ist 
Baron,  185,  213,  219,  321 

Berkeley  of  Stratton,  William, 
4th  Baron,  321 

Bernard,  Edward,  209-10 

Bertie,  Peregrine,  263,  266,  287 

Blague,  Miss,  11 7-1 8 

Blanquefort,  Lord,  90 

Boucher,  3 10- 11 

Bouillon,  Duchesse  de  (Maria 
Anna  Mancini),  263 

Boyer,  Abel,  2,  8,  22,  25,  31, 
71, 189, 190,248,  267  «.,  284, 
289,  300,  320,  323,  326,  327, 

336 

Braybrooke,  Lord,  328,  330 

Bristol,  Earl  of,  41,  43 

Broderick,  Sir  Alan,  61 

Brodrick,  Hon.  G.  C,  332 

Broghill,  Lord,  139 

Brounker,  Lord,  152,  184 

Browne,  Dr.,  10 

Buckingham,  ist  Duke  of 
(George  Villiers),  4,  7,  46 

Buckingham,  2nd  Duke  of 
(George  Villiers),  12,  46,  97, 
107,  146-7,  153)  i58-9>  167, 
169,    175,    181,    188,    300, 

344 
Buckingham,   Duchess    of,    see 

Mary  Fairfax 


347 


348 


MY  LADY  CASTLEMAINE 


Burnet,  Bishop,  i,  40,  42-3, 
86,  134,  142,  145,  157,  158, 
179,   i8on.,   188,  227,  247, 

256,  323 

Butler,  Lady  Elizabeth  (after- 
wards Countess  of  Chester- 
field), 37,  38,  75,  86-7,  179 

Butler,  Lady  Henrietta  (after- 
wards Countess  of  Grantham), 
321 

Cambridge,  Duke  of,  143 
Capel,  Lord,  see  Earl  of  Essex 
Capel,  Lady,  19,  20,  325 
"  Carlos,  Don  "  (son  of  Charles 

II  and  Catherine  Peg),  206 
Carnegy,  Lady,  see  Lady  Anne 

Hamilton 
Carte,  Thomas,  82,  185,   328, 

334,  335 
Castlemaine,  Earl  of,  see  Roger 

Palmer 
Castlemaine,    Countess  of,  see 

Barbara  Villiers 
Catherine(ofBraganza),  Queen, 

40-1,  45,   47  ^f^,   77-9,   95, 
99,  loo-i,  104-8,  123,  126, 
128,  132,158,  167,  175,179- 
80,  240,  327,  330 
Catherine,  Empress  of  Russia, 

319 

Caulfield,  James,  293,  344 

Charles  I,  King,  7,  9,  35,  68, 
145,  183 

Charles  II,  King,  2,  29/!,  35, 
40,  4i#,  79,  82,  84/:,  92-4, 
96-8,  103,  105/:,  no,  122, 

130.  i32.zf-,  i4i#,  154, 157- 
60,  164,  173 f.,  188,  i93f., 
200,  202-4,   207,  212,   214, 

227-8, 239 jf:,  257-60,  293, 
323,  326,  333,  335,  338-9, 

342,  eU. 
Charnock,  Robert,  285 
Chatillon,  Marquis  de,  218-19, 
^  221,  225-6,  339 
Chaworth,  Lady,  212-13,  236 


Chesterfield,  ist  Earl  of,  9,  11 
Chesterfield,  2nd  Earl  of  (PhiUp 
Stanhope),  Sff'.,  26-g,  37-8, 
47-8,86-8,  179,  217  «.,  243, 

251,  325,  326,  342 
Chesterfield,  4th  Earl  of,  188, 

189,  190,  336 
Chesterfield,   Ladies,  see  Lady 

Elizabeth  Butler,  Lady  Anne 

Percy 
Chiffinch,   William,    142,    145, 

255  . 
Churchill,  Arabella,  189,  336 

Churchill,  John,  afterwards 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  187- 
90,  195,  208,  271,  276,  336 

Cholmly,  Sir  H,,  138,  141,  144, 

.169,  334 

Cibber,  Colley,  249 

Clarendon,  Earl  of  (Edward 
Hyde),  6,  32-3,  42-4,  48/:, 
69^,  80-1,  91,  102,  120, 
126-7,  130,  132-3,  142,  143, 
146,   i49#,   158.  165,  252, 

258,  334,  ^^'^^ 
Clark,  Mr.  A.,  329,  332 

Cleveland,    Earl    of   (ThomaS 

Wentworth),  178 
Cleveland,     Duchess     of,     see 

Barbara  Villiers 
Cokayne,  G.  E.,  345 
Coke,  Roger,  333 
Colbert  (French  Ambassador), 

168,  174-6,  194-5 
Cominges,  Comte  de,  85,  96, 

100,  105,  108,  109,  114-15, 

117,    119,    121,    126,     129, 

217  «.,  328,  329,  332 
Congreve,  William,  191,  265 
Cory,  Mrs.,  166-7 
Cosmo  de'  Medici,  afterwards 

Grand     Duke    of    Tuscany 

(Cosmo  III),  324 
Courtin   (French  envoy),   124, 

125,  126,  129 
Crawfurd,  Dr.  Raymond,  342 
Creed,  Mr.,  73,  80,  95 


INDEX 


349 


Crofts,      William,      afterwards 

Lord,  78 
Crofts,    James,    see    Duke    of 

Monmouth 
Cromwell,  Oliver,   11,   12,   20, 

137  n.,  324,  326 
Cromwell,  Frances,  11,  12 
Cromwell,  Mary,  11 

Dacre,  Lord,  see  Earl  of  Sussex 
Dale,  Rev.  L.  W.  T.,  318 
Danby,  Earl  of,  206,  223,  251 
Dangerfield,    Thomas,    242-3, 

262 
Dartmouth,   Earl  of,   49,   216, 

326,  327 
Davis,  Mary  (Moll),  28  ;;,,  159- 

60,  164,  166 
De  la  Cloche,  James,  78 
Deleau,  Anne,  298,  305^ 
Denbigh,    Earl    of,    292,    295, 

302 
Denham,  Lady,  123,  139 
Dennis,  John,  191,  265 
De  Repas,  Denis,  125,127,140 
Devonshire,  Duke  of,  302 
d'Orleans,  see  Orleans 
Dorset,  Earl  of,  i 
Douglas,    James,    see    Earl    of 

Arran 
Drian,    Don    Francisco,    299, 

308,  311 
Dryden,    John,    19,    92,    191, 

239-40,  262,  344 
Dyke,  Sir  Thomas,  233 

Ellis,  John,  208,  210,  215,  263, 

265 
Essex,  Earl  of  (Arthur  Capel), 

25i>  321.  325 
Essex,      Earl      of     (Algernon 

Capel),  321 

Evelyn,  John,  31,  50,  78,  91, 

118,   138-9,   142,   164,   175, 

178,  182,  194-6,  199,  238-9, 

246,  247,  253-7,  262//.,  271, 

328,  III,  etc. 


Fairfax,  Lord,  12 

Fairfax,       Mary       (afterwards 

Duchess     of    Buckingham), 

12,  13,  75^  83,  107 
Falmouth,  Lord,  see  Sir  Charles 

Berkeley 
Falmouth,  Lady,  123,  148 
Faulkner,  Thomas,  319,  345 
Fea,Mr.Allan,3i9,329, 331,345 
Feilding,  George,  292,  293 
Feilding,  Robert,  292-316,  344, 

345 
Fell,  Dr.  John,  209 

Fenwick,  Sir  John,  2S5,  286 

Ferrers,  Captain,  89,  97 

Finch,  Heneage  (afterwards  ist 
Earl  of  Nottingham),  206 

Fitzharding,  Viscount,  see  Sir 
Charles  Berkeley 

Fitzroy,  Anne,  see  Anne  Palmer 

"  Fitzroy,"  Barbara,  187,  195, 
208,  215,  271-2 

Fitzroy,  Charles  (afterwards  ist 

Duke  of  Southampton),  52-3, 

126,  170,  176,  178,  196,  202, 

208-10,  236,  248,  269,  277, 

.279.  318,  322 

Fitzroy,  Charles,  2nd  Duke  of 
Grafton,  271,  300-2,  303  «., 
310,  314,  320,  321 

Fitzroy,  Charlotte  (afterwards 
Countess  of  Lichfield),  113, 
170,  205-7,  215,  237,  317 

Fitzroy,  George  (afterwards  ist 

Duice   of   Northumberland), 

130-1,   170,   176,   208,  209, 

214,  236-7,  244-7,  249.  264 

/.,  279,  302,  303  n.,  314,  339, 

341,  343 

Fitzroy,  Henry  (afterwards  ist 
Duke  of  Grafton),  loi,  iii, 
126,  170,  176,  195-6,  202, 
204-5,  208,  236-9,  243,  247, 
249,  264/.,  271,  337 

Fitzroy,  William,  2nd  Duke  of 
Southampton,  277,  322 

Foxcroft,  Miss  H.  C.,  323 


350 


MY  LADY  CASTLEMAINE 


Gerard,  Lord  and  Lady,  85 
Glemham,  Anne,  5 
Glemham,  Dr.,  148 
Goodman,  Cardonell,   248-50, 

263,278-9,284-6,292,  298 «. 
"Goodman    Cleveland,"    263, 

287 
Gorges,  Arthur,  198 
Grafton,    ist  and   2nd    Dukes, 

see  Henry  and  Charles  Fitz- 

roy,  Dukes  of  Grafton 
Grafton,  Duchess  of,  see  Isabella 

Bennet 
Gramont,  Comte  de,  24,  38,  87, 

9i>93)  105,108,  116-18,  141, 

171,   176-7,   187,  332,  335, 

etc, 
Gramont,    Comtesse     de,    see 

Elizabeth  Hamilton 
Grandison,  Viscounts,  see  Oliver 

St.    John,    William    Villiers, 

John  Villiers 
Granger,  James,  171 
Grantham,  Earl  of,  320-1 
Gwynn,    Nell,    119,    137,    159, 

160,   182,   201-3,  237,  240, 

255-6,  262  «.,  337,  340 

Haile,  Mr.  Martin,  345 

Hales,  Sir  Edward,  288 

Halifax,  Lord,  336 

Hall,  Jacob,  176,  177,  335 

Hamilton,  Duke  of  (James 
Douglas),  see  Earl  of  Arran 

Hamilton,  Duke  of  (James 
Hamilton),   13 

Hamilton,  Duchess  of,  widow 
of  preceding,  16,  17 

Hamilton,  Lady  Anne  (after- 
wards Lady  Carnegy  and 
Countess  of  Southesk),  13, 
16,  17,  18,  119,  324 

Hamilton,  Anthony,  38,  88, 
105,  108  71.,  no,  117 

Hamilton,  Charles,  senior, 
271-2,  317-18,  345 

Hamilton,  Charles,  junior,  318 


Hamilton,     Elizabeth      (after- 
wards Comtesse  de  Gramont), 

108  «.,  117,  118,  296,  332 
Hamilton,  James,  38,  88,   108 

;/.,  no,  117 
Harbin,  Rev.  George,  340 
Harlay,    Francois     de.    Arch- 
bishop of  Paris,  215,  229-30 
Harley,  Sir  Robert,   125,   140, 

291 
Hart,  Charles,   160,   164,  171, 

186 
Harvey,  Sir  Daniel,  14 7-8,  166 

^'•,  235 
Harvey,  Lady,  166-7,  212,  223 
Hatton,  Charles,  201,  212,  220, 

241 
Hatton,  Mary,  219 
Hatton,  Viscount,  87,  194,  219, 

220,  255 
Henrietta,   Princess,   Duchesse 

d'Orleans,  80  ?/.,  90,  173-5, 

iSi,  335 
Henrietta    Maria,    Queen,    10, 

31,  50,  68,  69,  72-3,  77-9, 

91,  121,  181,  183 
Henry  VHI,  King,  112,  183 
Herbert,  William,  see  ist  Baron 

Powis 
Herbert,  Catherine  (wife  of  Sir 

James  Palmer),  23 
Howard,  Lady  Elizabeth,  19 
Howard,  Lord,  197 
Howards,   Earls  of  Berkshire, 

i9>  159,  165 
Hungerford,  Sir  Edv/ard,  190 
Hyde,   Anne,   see   Duchess    of 

York 
Hyde,    Edward,    see    Earl    of 

Clarendon 
Hyde,     Lawrence    (afterwards 

Earl  of  Rochester),  252 

Innocent  XI,  Pope,  267-8 

James  I,  King,  7,  55,  145 
James,   Duke   of   York,   after- 


INDEX 


351 


wards  King  James  II,  24, 
35.  47,  79.  83,  86-7,  119, 
120,  122,  137,  138,  149,  150, 
166,  167,  168,  181,  200-1, 
222,  234,  247,  252,  255-6, 
261,  264/:,  288-9,  294,  328, 
341,  344,  etc. 

James  Francis  Edward,  Prince 
of  Wales,  268,  285,  345 

Jameson,  Mrs.,  29,  325 

Jennings,  Frances  (afterwards 
Duchess  of  Tyrconnel),  118 

Jermyn,  Henry  (afterwards  Earl 
of  Dover),  88,  148,  176-7, 
188,  194,  334,  335 

Jersey,  Earl  of,  314 

Jesse,  John  H.,   24,   29,  325, 

341,  343 
Jusserand,  M.  J.  J.,  328,  329, 

330,  332 

Katherine     of    Braganza,    sec 

Queen  Catherine 
Kendal,  Duchess  of,  143 
Keroualle,    Louise    de    (after- 
wards    Duchess    of    Ports- 
mouth), 2,  137,  155,  173-6, 

182,  194-5,  201-4,  2IO-II, 
217  «,,  220,  223,  224,  240, 
244,  245,  250-1,  253,255-6, 
,259,   261,  320,  331 

Killigrew,  Henry,  136-7 
Killigrew,  Thomas,  137 
Kirkhoven,  see  John  Poliander 
Kneller,  Sir  Godfrey,  284,  344, 

345 
Knipp,  Mrs.,  160-1 

Konigsmark,  Count  John  von, 
237 

Lake,  Dr.  Edward,  35 
Lambert,  General,  1 1 2 
Lansdowne,  Baron,  180;/. 
Lauderdale,  Earl  of  (afterwards 

Duke),  122,  181,  345 
Legge,    Colonel   William,   49, 

327 


Lely,   Sir   Peter,   2,    148,    192, 

324-  341 

Lennox,     Charles    (afterwards 

Duke     of     Richmond     and 

Lennox),  195,  208,  244,  246 

Leroy,  John,  134,  138,  333 

Lichfield,    Earl   of,    205,   215, 

.237,  314 
Lichfield,   Lady,   see  Charlotte 

Fitzroy 
Li  fiord.  Earl  of,  320-1,  345 
Lionne,  Hugues  de,  85,   108, 

109,  114,  119 
Lloyd  Sanders,  Mr.,  345 
Louis  XIV,  King,  85,   120-1, 

129,  168,  173-5,  222,  225-6, 

258,  286,  338,  344 
Lucy,     Catherine     (afterwards 

Duchess  of  Northumberland), 

265-6,  343 
Luttrell,   Narcissus,   237,   242, 

243,  245,  249,  264,  285-6, 

287,  288,  295,  301,  303,  340, 

341 

Lyttelton,  Sir  Charles,  87,  194, 

254,  255 

Macaulay,  Lord,  336 
MacCartney,      General,      272, 

317-18,  345 
Macky,  John,  247 
Mancini,      see      Duchesse     de 

Bouillon,  Duchesse  de  Maza- 

rin,  Comtesse  de  Soissons 
Manley,    Mary  de   la  Riviere, 

187-90,    210,    273/:,    283, 

334,  ZZ^,  338-9 
Manley,  Sir  Roger,  273 
Marie-Louise  of  Orleans,  Prin- 
cess, 225  «.,  226 
Marischal,  Countess,  75 
Marshall,  Rebecca,  160 
Marvel],  Andrew,  186,  200 
Mary,       Princess,      afterwards 

Queen,  35,  269 
Mary,   Queen  (Marie  Beatrice 
d'Este),  201,  212,  336 


352 


MY   LADY  CASTLEMAINE 


May,    Baptist,   133,    145,   148, 

151;  i53>  224,  333 
Mazarin,    Duchesse   de   (Hor- 

tensiaMancini),  211-13,  240, 

245.  253,  261-3,  275  «.,  277, 

320 
Mazarin,  Cardinal,  211,  215 
Mello,  Dom  Francisco  de,  54, 

69 
Middleton,  Earl  of,  288,  317 
Mohun,  Lord,  272,  317,  345 
Molina,  Count  de,  121,  123-4, 

126,  130 
Monk,  General,  326 
Monmouth,  Duke  of,  77-9,  83, 

92,  116,  126,  159,  167,  173, 

204,    206,    249,    257,    264, 

341 

Montagu,  Anne,  236 
Montagu,    Sir    Edward   (after- 
wards Lord  Sandwich),   34, 
41,  47>  57,  85-6,  88,  97,  98, 
107,  no,  i2on.,  166,  330 
Montagu,    Edward  (afterwards 
Earl   of    Manchester),    107, 
166 
Montagu,  George,  2 
Montagu,     Ralph    (afterwards 
Duke  of  Montagu),   168  n., 
175,  216.^,  338-9 
Montague,  Sir  James,  304,  344 
Moore,  Hon.  Robert,  234 
Morland,  Sir  Samuel,  31 
Morrice,  Sir  William,  40,  151 
Mulgrave,  Earl  of,  239 
Muskerry,  Lord,  117,  122,  296 
Muskerry,  Lady,  117,  29G 

Nicholas,  Sir  Edward,  80 
Norfolk,  Duchess  of,  280,  343 
Northampton,  Countess  of,  265 
Northumberland,  Duke  of,  see 

George  Fitzroy 
Northumberland,   Duchess    of, 

see  Catherine  Lucy 
Northumberland,        Earl        of 

(Joceline  Percy),  236 


Northumberland,  Countess  of, 

236 
Northumberland,        Dowager 

Countess  of,  236,  245 
Nottingham,      Lord      (Daniel 

Finch,  2nd  Earl),  270 

Gates,  Titus,   23,    24,    241-2, 

262 
Ogle,  Earl  of,  236 
Oldham,  John,  3 
Oldmixon,  John,  250,  330 
Orange,  William  II,  Prince  of, 

9 
Orange,    Princess     of    (Mary, 

Princess  Royal  of  England), 

10 

Orange,  William  Henry,  Prince 
of,  see  William,  Prince  of 
Orange 

d'Orleans,  Due,  173-4,  225  n. 

d'Orleans,  Duchesse,  see  Prin- 
cess Henrietta 

Ormonde,  ist  Duke  of  (James 
Butler),  37,  62  ?i.,  69,  75, 
185-6,  245-6,  251,  331 

Ormonde,  2nd  Duke  of  (James 
Butler),  320,  321 

Orrery,  Lord,  43,  119 

Ossory,  Lord,  243 

"  Palmer,"  Anne  (afterwards 
Countess  of  Sussex),  32,  36, 
37,  118,  170,  197,  205-7, 
212-13,  216,  218,  220  jf., 
233-4.  289,  326,  338 
Palmer,    Barbara,    see  Barbara 

Villiers 
Palmer,  Sir  Edward,  23 
Palmer,  Sir  Henry,  23 
Palmer,  Sir  James,  22-4 
Palmer,  Roger  (afterwards  Earl 
of   Castlemaine),    22^.,   36, 
39-40,44,  52,  56,  70,  71,  74, 
80,  82,  loi,  113,  118,  138, 
170,  235,  242-3,  262,  267-9, 
287-9,  323,  326,   327,   332, 
340 


INDEX 


353 


Palmer,  Sir  Thomas,  23 
Paston,  Sir  Robert,  1 1 1 
Pattison,  Mark,  129  n. 
Peg,  Catherine,  206 
Perm,  William,  109,  142,  333 
Penalva,  Countess  of,  69 
Pepys,  Samuel,  2,  26,  28,  30, 
34/:,  40,  45-6,  51-3,  66-7, 
7o#-.   77-9.  83/:,  97,   99, 
103/:,  118,  119,  122,   125, 

135.    i39#>    i44#,   151/. 
159.   165,   166,   168-9,   187, 

242,  330,  ZZ^,  334,  ^i^- 
Pepys,    Mrs.,   28,    39,  46,   94, 

160 
Percy,  Lady   Anne   (afterward 

Countess    of    Chesterfield), 

II 
Percy,      Lady      Elizabeth 

("Betty"),     236-7,     244-5, 
.265,  339 
Pierce,    Dr.,   71,  81,   94,    100, 

107,110-11,113,132,134-5, 

148,  151,  152,  333 
Pigeon,  Mrs.,  229-31 
Poliander  (Kirkhoven),  John,  9 
Poliander,  Monsieur,  10 
Pope,  Alexander,  3,  190,  336 
Portsmouth,    Duchess    of,    see 

Louise  de  Keroualle 
Porter,  Captain  George,  285-6 
Povy,  83,  119,  144,  154,  168 
Powis,  I  st  Baron  (William  Her- 
bert), 23 
Powis,    William    Herbert,    1st 

Marquis  of  (afterwards  Duke 

of),  23,  242,  262,  268-9,  287, 

289 
Powis,  Lady,  242,  262,  268 
Prideaux,  Humphrey,  208-10, 

215 
Pulteney,     Anne      (afterwards 

Duchess    of   Southampton), 

277 

Queroualle,     ae     Louise     de 
Keroualle 


Raby,  Lord,  300,  301 
Remigius,  Father,  299 
Reresby,  Sir  John,  2,  48,  145  n.^ 

343 
Rich,  Robert,  12 

Richmond,   Duke   of  (Charles 

Stuart),     46,     141-2,     157, 

.333 
Richmond,   Duchesses    of,   see 

FrancesStewart,  Mary  Villiers 
Richmond,  Duke  of,  see  Charles 

Lennox 
Rupert,  Prince,  144,  206,  247 
Russell,  Sir  John,  1 2 
Rutland,  Countess  of,  244,  263, 

265 
Ruvigny,  Marquis  of,  gi 

St.  Albans,  Duke  of,  see  Charles 

Beauclerc 
St.  Albans,  Earl  of,  148 
St.  Evremond,  26,  36,  213,  262, 

275  «• 
St.  John,  Barbara  (Dame  Bar- 
bara Villiers),  3,  197-8 
St.  John,  Oliver,  ist  Viscount 

Grandison,  4 
St.  Maurice,  Marquis  de,  175  fi. 
Sandwich,     Earl    of,    see     Sir 

Edward  Montagu 
Sandwich,  Lady,  46,  52,  67,  74, 

118,  332 
"Sarah,  Mrs.,"  46,  52,  70,  84, 

101,  104,  105 
Savile,  Henry,  123,  136,  235 
Scarborough,  Sir  Charles,  254 
Scott,   Lady  Anne  (afterwards 
Duchess  of  Monmouth),  92, 
116,  126,  144,  145,  159 
Scott,  James,  see  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  297 
Sheldon,  Archbishop,  158 
Shore,  Jane,  45,  115,  244 
Sidney,  Henry,  58,  217  «.,  219, 

240 
Sidney,  Colonel  Robert,  328 


2  A 


354 


MY  LADY  CASTLEMAINE 


Soissons,  Comte  de,  274  «.  1 

Soissons,Comtessede(01ympia  j 

Mancini),  245,  274  «. 
Somers,  Lord,  336 
Somerset,  Duke  of,  244-5  i 

Southampton,  ist  Duke  of,  see 

Charles  Fitzroy 
Southampton,  Duchesses  of,  see 

Mary  Wood,  Anne  Pulteney 
Southampton,  2nd  Duke  of,  see 

William  Fitzroy 
Southampton,  Earl  of  (Thomas 

Wriothesley),  42,  120,  126-7, 

143,  178 

Southesk,  Countess  of,  see  Lady 

Anne  Hamilton 
Spence,  Rev.  Joseph,  336 
Stanhope,  see  ist,  2nd,  and  4th 

Earls  of  Chesterfield 
Stanhope,  Arthur,  11 
Stanhope,  Henry,  9 
Stanhope,  Lord,  300 
Steinman,  Mr.  G.   S.,    129  «., 

245^318,327,328,  33i,333> 

337,  338,  341,  343,  344 
Stewart,  Frances  (afterwards 
Duchess  of  Richmond), 
89#,  96,  9S-9,  107-8,  no, 
121,  124,  126,  130,  133,  136, 
140/-,  i57-8>  164,  177,  328, 

329,  330.  333 
Stewart,  Dr.  Walter,  90 

Stillingfleet,  Rev.  Edward,  109, 

330 
Streights,  Mrs.,  299,  305 
Strickland,  Miss,  51,  109 
Suffolk,  Earl  of,  70,  206 
Suffolk,     Lady,     see     Barbara 

Villiers,  Countess  of  Suffolk 
Sunderland,  Earl  of,  155,  271 
Sunderland,  Lady,  58,  155,  240, 

251 
Sussex,    Earl    of,    37,    205-6, 

212-13,  216,  233-4,  314 

Sussex,  Lady,  see  Anne  Palmer 

Swift,  Dean,  216,  247,  296-7 

Swift,  Hon.  Mary,  296 


Talbot,  Father  Peter,  82-3 
Temple,  Sir  William,  216,  223, 

253  ''•,  340 
Temple,  Dorothy,  340 
Teynham,  Lord,  234 
Thackeray,  W.   M.,   272,  319, 

343,  345  '  b-" 

Thynne,  Lady  Isabella,  129 
Thynne,    Thomas,    237,    244, 

340 
Tidcomb,    Lieutenant-General, 

274 
Tychborne,  Sir  Henry,  222 

Vaughan,  Catherine,  see  Cath- 
erine Herbert 

Vaughan,  Sir  Robert,  23 

Verneuil,  Due  de,  121,  122, 
126,  129 

Verney,  Sir  Ralph,  251 

Villars,    Charlotte     Henrietta, 

.299,  z°sff- 

Villiers  family,  4 

Villiers,  Barbara,  afterwards 
Countess  of  Castlemaine  and 
Duchess  of  Cleveland :  her 
ancestry,  3 ;  birth  and  bap- 
tism, 5 ;  early  years,  8 ;  meets 
Lord  Chesterfield,  1 3  ;  her 
correspondence  with  him, 
13/;,  26-8,  37,  179;  friend- 
ship with  Lady  Anne 
Hamilton,  16,  119;  marries 
Roger  Palmer,  24 ;  has  small- 
pox, 27-8;  makes  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Charles  H, 
29-31  ;  bears  her  first 
daughter,  Anne  "  Palmer," 
32,  36,  233,  326;  Pepys's 
early  notices  of,  35-9 ;  be- 
comes Lady  Castlemaine, 
39  ff.;  her  enmity  with 
Clarendon  and  South- 
ampton, 42,  120,  143,  258, 
321,  334;  compared  with 
Jane  Shore,  45,  115,  244; 
disconsolate    over   Charles's 


INDEX 


355 


marriage,  47  ;  bears  her  first 
son,  Charles  Fitzroy,  5  2 ; 
presented  to  Queen  Cath- 
erine at  Hampton  Court, 
S7>  ff-'i  leaves  her  husband's 
house,  70-1  ;  at  \Vhitehall 
on  August  23rd,  1662,  73-4; 
appointed  to  Queen's  bed- 
chamber, 75 ;  accepted  by 
Catherine,  75,  78,  80 ; 
chooses  Charles's  ministers, 
80 ;  Charles's  visits  to  her 
commented  on,  84-6 ;  ru- 
mours of  her  unfaithfulness, 
88 ;  and  Frances  Stewart, 
89^,  gd  ff-t  142;  lodged  at 
Whitehall  Palace,  93;  bears 
Henry  Fitzroy,  i  o  i  ;  her  first 
visit  to  Oxford,  loi  ff.;  be- 
comes Roman  Catholic,  loS; 
her  supposed  change  of  lodg- 
ings, 112,  331  ;  bears  Char- 
lotte Fitzroy,  113;  insulted 
in  St.  James's  Park,  114; 
her  part  in  foreign  politics, 
120^  ;  alliance  with  Lauder- 
dale, 122,  345  ;  second  visit 
to  Oxford,  126  ff.;  bears 
George  Fitzroy,  130 ;  her 
heavy  expenditure  in  1666, 
1 33-4*  141  j  banished  and 
recalled  by  Charles,  135; 
her  final  rupture  with  Lord 
Castlemaine,  1 38  ;  evil  in- 
fluence on  Charles's  char- 
acter, 145  ;  violent  quarrel 
with  him,  147  ;  returns  to 
Whitehall,  149  ;  her  share  in 
Clarendon's  ruin,  150-2; 
sides  with  Queen  Catharine, 
158;  her  actress  rivals,  1 59^ ; 
intrigue  with  Hart,  160;  mock 
petition  to  her  and  answer, 
1 6 1-3;  presented  with  Berk- 
shire House,  165  ;  her  alli- 
ance with  the  Yorks,  167, 
1 80-1  ;    receives   a    regular 


income,  170;  her  intrigue 
with  Jacob  Hall,  171;  created 
Duchess  of  Cleveland,  176; 
has  another  violent  quarrel 
with  Charles,  177;  builds 
Cleveland  House,  179;  re- 
ceives grant  of  Nonsuch, 
183;  her  quarrel  with  Or- 
monde, 185-6  ;  intrigue 
with  Churchill,  187  ff., 
336  ;  with  Wycherley,  19 1-3, 
336 ;  definitely  supplanted 
in  Charles's  favour,  195; 
bears  her  daughter  Barbara, 
195  ;  her  conduct  toward 
Mary  Wood,  196  ;  loses 
mother  and  grandmother, 
197 ;  quarrels  with  Arlington, 
204 ;  her  education  of  her 
children,  205,  208-10,  317; 
marries  two  of  her  daughters, 
205-7  ;  her  third  visit  to  Ox- 
ford, 209;  retires  to  Paris, 
213  ff.;  her  intrigue  and 
quarrel  with  Ralph  Montagu, 
216-34,  338-9  ;  intrigue  with 
Chatillon,  218,  221,  225  ; 
and  her  sons'  marriages, 
2  7,^  //.;  verse  libel  on  her 
and  Duchess  of  Portsmouth, 
239  ;  visits  England  in  1682, 
244  ;  her  intrigue  with  Good- 
man, 248-50,  263,  278-9, 
284-7  3  her  grants  from 
Charles,  251,  341-2;  at 
Court  on  January  25th, 
1685,  253;  question  of  her 
mention  in  Charles's  dying 
charge,  255-7  ;  her  treatment 
by  him,  257-60  ;  interference 
in  his  government,  258 ;  finan- 
cial extortions,  259 ;  in  the 
reign  of  James  H,  261  //.; 
her  alleged  son  by  Goodman, 
263 ;  her  petition  to  the 
Treasury,  270 ;  moves  to 
Arlington   Street,   272 ;    her 


356 


MY  LADY  CASTLEMAINE 


acquaintance  with  Mrs. 
Manley,  zT^ff.;  secures  her 
pension,  290-1  ;  meets 
Beau  Feilding,  298 ;  mar- 
ries him,  299 ;  at  the  Court 
of  Anne,  300;  her  rupture 
with  Feilding,  301-3  ;  brings 
two  actions  against  him, 
304  ff. ;  obtains  nuUity  of 
marriage,  314;  retires  to 
Chiswick,  317;  death  and 
funeral,  320;  her  character, 
1-3,  i82,275#,  283-4,  323, 
etc. ;  looks.  Preface,  2,  284, 
324,  345 ;  her  actual  letters 
quoted,  14,  15,  16,  17,  19, 
26,  27,  217,  221^,  228  ff., 
246,  270,  340 
Villiers,  Barbara,  afterwards 
Countess  of  Suffolk,  53,  57, 

97 

Villiers,     Dame    Barbara,    see 

Barbara  St.  John 
Villiers,   Charles,   see    Earl   of 

Anglesea 
Villiers,  Sir  Edward,  3,  4,  53 
Villiers,  Colonel   Sir    Edward, 

70.  97»  i7i>  i97>  202,  208, 

269 
Villiers,    Elizabeth    (afterwards 

Countess  of  Orkney),  269 
Villiers,  Francis,  186 
Villiers,  Sir  George,  4 
Villiers,    George,    see    ist    and 

2nd  Dukes  of  Buckingham 
Villiers,    John,    3rd    Viscount 

Grandison,  70,  152,  171,  186, 

197,  202-3,  208,  269 
Villiers,       Mary       (afterwards 

Duchess  of  Richmond),  45-6 
Villiers,    Robert   (by    courtesy 

Viscount  Purbeck),  296 
Villiers,      Susan       (afterwards 

Countess  of  Denbigh),  292 


Villiers,  William,  2nd  Viscount 
Grandison,  3,  5,  6,  7,  16,42, 

133 

Wadsworth,  Mary,  297,  304/;, 

344 
Waller,  Edmund,  106 
Walpole,  Horace,  2 
Walter,  Lucy,  2,  78 
Watteville,  Baron  de,  41 
Welby,  Lord,  326 
Wells,  Winifred,  177,  327 
Wellwood,  James,  267-8,  3 
Wentworth,  Lady,  299,  301 
Wentworth,  Lady  Henrietta, 83, 

178 
Whalley,    Major-General     Ed- 
ward, 34 
Whalley,  Captain  John,  20 
Wheatley,  Mr.  H.  B.,  324,  325, 

333 
Willcock,  Mr.  John,  345 

William,  Prince  of  Orange,  24, 
216,  263,  269,  272,  289,  290, 
321 

Williamson,  Sir  Joseph,  200, 
203,  217  n. 

Wilson,  Mrs.,  145,  151,  165 

Wood,  Antony,  102, 103,126-8, 

i3o-i>  329 
Wood,  Sir  Henry,  196,  248 
Wood,  Mary  (afterwardsDuchess 

of  Southampton),  196,  248 
Wood,  Dr.  Thomas,  248 
Wotton,  Catherine,  9 
Wycherley,  William,  i9i-3>336 


Yarmouth,  Lady,  2 

York,    Duke   of.      See  James, 

Duke  of  York 
York,  Duchess  of  (Anne  Hyde), 

39.   77»  83,   117,    149,   167, 

168-9,  1 80- 1,  200 


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