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THE

PATRICIAN

EDITED BY

JOHN BURKE, ESCL

of "€l)t

VOLUME IV.

LONDON:
E. CHURTON, 26, HOLLES STREET.

MDCCCXLVII.

LONDON :
CLAYTON AND CO., 16, HART STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

TO THE

RIGHT HON. LORD FARNHAM,

A NOBLEMAN DISTINGUISHED BY HIS HISTORIC TASTE AND
GENEALOGICAL LEARNING,

THIS VOLUME OF

-Patrician,

IN TESTIMONY OF THE EDITOR'S SINCERE ESTEEM,

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCJRIBED.

I H T"

THE PATRICIAN.

NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.

i) of Eea, co.

THE reign of EDWARD III. forms the most martial and chivalrous period of
English history. On the roll of the military " worthies " it produced —
and the brilliant category includes Edward the Black Prince, Audley,
Chandos, and Manny — few names stand more prominently forward than
that of Sir HUGH CALVELEY of Lea. Froissart's romantic pen comme-
morates with graphic force the achievements of the Cheshire knight, and it
is indeed observable that the old chronicler rarely touches on Sir Hugh with-
out placing him in the very foreground of his living pictures. The family
from which this renowned warrior sprang, was a branch of the ancient
House of Calvelegh of Calvelegh, in the Hundred of Edisbury, which is
traced to Hugh de Calvelegh, who became Lord of Calvelegh in the reign
of King John by grant from Richard de Vernon. The first Calveley of
Lea was

DAVID DE CALVELEGH, (2nd son of Kenric de Calvelegh of Calvelegh,)
who obtained a grant, temp. Edward III., of the lordship of Lea, in the
Hundred of Broxton, Cheshire, previously a part of the extensive posses-
sions of the Montalts and the Montacutes. He married twice : by his
first wife Johanna he appears to have had four sons ; the eldest of whom,

SIR HUGH CALVKLEY, succeeded to Lea, and was the celebrated soldier,
whose achievements have rendered the name so familiar to the historic
reader. He first appears in the public events of his time as one of the
thirty combatants who, in 1351, engaged, in mortal strife, an equal number of
Bretons, for the purpose of deciding some differences which had arisen out
of the disorders committed by the English after the death of Sir Thomas
Daggeworth. The Bretons gained the victory by one of their party
breaking on horseback the ranks of the English, the greater number of
whom fell in the engagement. Knolles, Calveley and Croquart were cap-
tured and carried to the castle of Josselin. The Lord of Tinteniac, on
the enemy's side, and the gallant Croquart, on the English, obtained the
prizes of valour. Such was the issue of the famous " Combat of Thirty."
A cross, still existing, marks the battle field, known to this day as " Le
champ des Anglois." In a few years after, Sir Hugh commanded a divi-

VOL. iv. — NO. xv. B

2 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.

sion of the English forces at the battle of Auray, to which Froissart refers
in the following interesting narrative.

" Sir John Chandos formed three battalions and a rear guard. He
placed over the first Sir Robert Knolles, Sir Walter Huet, and Sir Richard
Burley. The second battalion was under the command of Sir Oliver de
Clisson, Sir Eustace D'Ambreticourt and Sir Matthew Gournay. The Earl
of Montfort had the third, which was to remain near his person. There
were in each battalion five hundred men-at-arms and four hundred archers.
When he came to the rear- guard, he called Sir Hugh Calveley to him, and
said, ' Sir Hugh, you will take the command of the rear- guard of five-
hundred men, and keep on our wing, without moving one step, whatever
may happen, unless you shall see an absolute necessity for it ; such as our
battalions giving way, or by accident broken j in that case, you will hasten
to succour those who are giving way, or who may be in disorder ; and
assure yourself, you cannot this day do a more meritorious service.'
When Sir Hugh heard Sir John Chandos give him these orders, he was
much hurt and angry with him, and said, ' Sir John, Sir John, give the
command of this rear-guard to some other; for I do not wish to be
troubled with it ;' and, then, added, * Sir knight, for what manner of
reason have you thus provided for me ? and why am I not as fit and proper
to take my post in the front rank as others?' Sir John discreetly answered,
' Sir Hugh, I did not place you with the rear- guard because you were not
as good a knight as any of us ; for, in truth, I know that you are equally
valiant with the best ; but I order you to that post, because I know you are
both bold and prudent, and that it is absolutely necessary for you or me
to take that command. I therefore most earnestly entreat it of you ; for,
if you will do so, we shall all be the better for it ; and you, yourself, will
acquire great honour ; in addition, I promise to comply with the first re-
quest you may make me.' Notwithstanding this handsome speech of Sir
John Chandos, Sir Hugh refused to comply, considering it as a great
affront offered him, and entreated, through the love of God, with uplifted
hands, that he would send some other to that command ; for, in fact, he was
anxious to enter the battle with the first. This conduct nearly brought
ears to the eyes of Sir John. He again addressed him, gently saying ;
tSr Hugh, it is absolutely necessary that either you or I take this com-
mand; now, consider which can be most spared.' Sir Hugh, having con-
sidered this last speech, was much confused, and replied ; ' Certainly, Sir,
I know full well that you would ask nothing from me, which could turn
out to my dishonour ; and, since it is so, I will very cheerfully undertake
it.' Sir Hugh Calveley then took the command called the rear- guard,
entered the field on the wing of the others, and formed his line. It was on
Saturday the 8th of October, J364, that these battalions were drawn up
facing each other, in a handsome plain, near to Auray in Brittany. I must
say, it was a fine thing to see and reflect on ; for there were banners and
pennons flying with the richest armour on each side ; the French were so
handsomely and grandly drawn up, it was great pleasure to look at them."
Froissart proceeds to narrate the vain efforts made by the Lord
de Beaumonor to bring about a treaty of peace, and then eloquently de-
scribes the result. " Sir John Chandos returned to the Earl of Montfort,
who asked, ' How goes on the treaty ? What does our adversary say ?'
* What does he say !' replied Chandos ; ' why he sends word by the
Lord de Beaumanoir, who has this instant left me, that he will fight with
you at all events, and remain Duke of Brittany, or die in the field.' This

NEGLKCTED GENEALOGY. «3

answer was made by Sir John in order to excite the courage of the Earl
of Montfort ; and, he continued saying, ' Now, consider what you will
determine to do, whether to engage or not.' ' By St. George/ answered
Montfort, ' engage will I, and God assist the right cause. Order our
banners to advance immediately.' '" We need not relate the details, romantic
though they be, as detailed in the glowing language of the Chronicler ; suffice
it to add that the post assigned to the knight of Lea proved not inglorious,
that, in more than one emergency, the failing forces of the English were
sustained by his reserve, and that among the leaders who contributed in the
most eminent degree to the famous victory of Auray, no small share of the
glory may, with justice, be given to Sir Hugh Calveley.

We next find our hero, not very reputably engaged, as a Captain of the
Free Companies, composed partly of disbanded soldiers and partly of ban-
ditti, who had enlisted in the service of Henry of Trastamare against Pedro
the Cruel. Shortly after, however, the Black Prince having joined the
army of the King of Castile, Sir Hugh placed himself under the command
of his old General, the illustrious Chandos, and distinguished himself by
many feats of valour at the bloody battle of Navarette.

In 1377, Holinshed relates, " Sir Hugh Calvelie was sent over to Calis,
to remain upon safe keeping of that town as deputie there ; and in the
same year comming one morning to Bullongne, he burnt certeine ships,
which laie there in the haven, to the number of six and twentie, besides two
proper barks, and having spoiled and burnt the most part of the base towne,
returned to Calis, with a rich bootie of goods and cattell." The same his-
torian further informs us that this doughty knight recovered the castle of
Marke, which had been betrayed by "certeine Picards stipendiarie soldiers
in the said Castell," and goes on to state that " Sir Hugh slept not at his
business. Shortly after Christmas, A.D. 1378, he spoiled the town of
Estaples, the same daie the fair was kept there," and in the next spring, as
Admiral of England, conveyed the Duke of Britany to a haven near St.
Maloes, and repelled, with the most dauntless bravery, a sudden attack made
by the French vessels. In 1380, he encountered the tremendous storm
which destroyed a large portion of the expedition to Brittany, and was one
of eight who took to the masts and cables, and were dashed on shore by
the violence of the storm.

The crusade of the Bishop of Norwich against the Clementists brings Sir
Hugh Calveley once more forward, " an opponent of his leader's measures
in the cabinet, but a vigorous supporter in the field/'* until after a series of
successes, his troops were surprised in Bergues by the French king, with
superior numbers, and Sir Hugh, abandoning the contest as hopeless, re-
turned to Calais. The following is Froissart's interesting description of the
event : —

" Sir Hugh Calveley, on his arrival at Bergues quartered himself and
his men in the different hotels and houses of the town ; they were in the
whole, including archers, more than four thousand men. Sir Hugh said,
' I am determined to keep this town ; it is of good strength and we are
enough to defend it. I expect we shall have, in five or six days, reinforce-
ments from England ; for they will learn our situation and also the force of
our enemies.' All replied, ' God assist us.'

Upon this he made very prudent regulations ; on dividing his men under
pennons and into companies, to mount the walls and guard the gates, he
found he had numbers sufficient. He ordered all the ladies, women,

* Ormerod.

B 2

4 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.

children, and lower classes of inhabitants to retire into a church, from
whence they were not to stir.

The King of France was at the abbey of Ranombergues, and learnt that
the English had retreated to Bergues. A council was held on the occasion,
when it was ordered that the van, with the constables and marshals, should
advance beyond the town and encamp on one of its sides. And the king of
France, with the Dukes of Berry, Burgundy and Bourbon, would follow with
the main army ; that the Count de Blois and the Count d'Eu, with the rear
division, should lodge themselves on the other side of the town, and thus
surround the English.

This plan was executed : and the King set out from Ronombergues, at-
tended by his whole army. It was a beautiful sight to behold these banners,
pennons and helmets, glittering in the sun, and such numbers of men at
arms that the eye could not compass them. They seemed like a moving
forest, so upright did they hold their lances. Thus they marched in four
divisions towards Bergues, to enclose the English in that town.

About eight o'clock in the morning, an English herald entered the town,
who, by the courtesy of the lords of France, had passed through their army :
he waited on Sir Hugh Calveley in his hotel, and spoke so loud that every
one heard him. ' Herald, whence dost thou come?' 'My Lord,' replied
the herald, ' I come from the French army, where I have seen the finest
men at arms, and in such vast numbers that there is not at this day another
King who can shew the like.'

' And these fine men at arms which thou art speaking of,' saith Sir
Hugh, ' what number are they ?' 'By my faith, my Lord, they are full
twenty- six thousand men at arms : handsomer nor better armed were never
seen.'

' Ha, ha,' replied Sir Hugh, who was much provoked at the latter part of
this speech, ' thou art a fine fellow to come and mock us with this pompous
tale. I know well thou hast lied ; for many a time have I seen the armies
of France, but they never amounted to twenty-six thousand ; no, not even
to six thousand men at arms/

As he said this, the watch of the town who was at his post, sounded his
trumpet, for the van of the enemy was about passing near the walls — Sir
Hugh then, addressing the knights and squires present, said ; ' Come,
come, let us go and see these twenty-six thousand men at arms march by,
for our watch blows his horn !' They went on ftthe walls of the place and
leaning on them, observed the march of the van, which might have con-
sisted of about fifteen hundred lances, with the constable, the marshals, the
master of the cross-bows and the Lord de Courcy. Next came the Duke
of Brittany, the Earl of Flanders and the Count de St. Pol, who had under
his command about fifteen hundred lances more. Sir Hugh Calveley, who
thought he had seen the whole army, said ' Now see if I did not say "truth :
where are these twenty-six thousand men? Why if they be three thousand
menat arjns, they are ten thousand. Let us go to dinner, for I do not yet
see such a force as should oblige us to surrender the town. This herald
would frighten us well, if we were to believe him.'

The herald was much ashamed, but he said, ' My Lord, you have as yet
only seen the van guard. The King and his uncles are behind with the main
army, and there is besides a rear division, which consists of more than two
thousand lances. You will see the whole in four hours, if you remain here.'

Sir Hugh paid not any attention to him but returned to his house, saying

NEGLECTED GENEALOGY. 5

he had seen every thing, and seated himself at table. He had scarcely done
so, than the watch again blew his horn, and so loud as if he would burst it ;
Sir Hugh rose from table, saying he would see what was the cause of this,
and mounted the battlements. At this moment the King of France marched
by, attended by his uncles, the Duke Frederick, the Duke of Lorraine, the
Count of Savoy, the Dauphine of Auvergne, the Count de la Marche, and
their troops. In this battalion were full sixteen thousand lances. Sir
Hugh felt himself much disappointed, and said to the herald who was by
his side, ' I have been in the wrong to blame you, come, come, let us mount
our horses and save ourselves, for it will do us no good to remain here ; I
no longer know the state of France, I have never seen such numbers col-
lected together by three fourths as I now see and have seen in the van —
besides the rear division is still to come. Upon this Sir Hugh Calveley
left the walls and returned to his house. All the horses being ready saddled
and loaded, they mounted, and having ordered the gates to be opened which
lead to Bourbourg, they set off without any noise, carrying with them
all their pillage.

Had the French suspected this, they could easily have stopped them, but
they were ignorant of it for a long time, so that they were nearly arrived at
Bourbourg before they heard of it.

Sir Hugh Calveley halted in the plain to wait for his rear and baggage.
He was very melancholy and said to Sir Thomas Trivet and others who had
come to meet him ; ' By my faith, gentlemen, we have this time made a
most shameful expedition : never was so pitiful or wretched a one made
from England. You would have your wills, and placed your confidence in
the Bishop of Norwich, who wanted to fly before he had wings; now see the
honourable end you have brought it to. There is Bourbourg ] If you
choose it, retire thither ; but for my part I shall march to Gravelines and
Calais, because I find we are not of sufficient strength to cope with the King
of France.'

The English knights, conscious they had been to blame in several things,
replied : ' God help us ! we shall return to Bourbourg and wait the event,
such as God may please to ordain.' Sir Hugh on this left them, and they
threw themselves into Bourbourg."

None of the blame attending this misadventure fell on Sir Hugh, and he
retained to the time of his decease the government of Guernsey, and the
care of the royal castle and the park of Shotwick. Having acquired from
his estates in Cheshire, his various official appointments, and the fruits of
his predatory warfare, enormous wealth, he devoted a portion to the estab-
lishment of an hospital at Rome, and sanctified the end of his days by an
act of similar piety in his own country — the foundation of the college of
Bunbury in Cheshire — which appears to have been completed before the
decease of its founder, which event occurred on the feast of St. George in
1394. An armed effigy, reposing on one of the most sumptuous altar
tombs of which the county of Chester can boast, still remains in the chancel
of the college of Bunbury, marking the spot where were interred the mortal
remains of the warrior knight, the gallant Sir Hugh Calveley of Lea. Tra-
dition assigned to him for bride no less a personage than the Queen of Ar-
ragon, but recent researches have altogether refuted this popular error. In
all probability, he never married, and to a certainty, he left no issue. His
next heir was his grandnephew,

DAVID DE CALVELEY, eldest son of Sir Hugh Calveley, the younger, and
grandson of David, the second son of the first David Calvelegh of Lea.

6 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.

He held the property for some years, but died without issue, temp. Henry IV.,
and was succeeded by his brother,

HUGH DE CALVELEY, Esq. of Lea, whose post mortem inquisition bears
date 11 Hen. VI. By Maud, his wife, dau. and heir of Sir Henry Hubeck
Knt, of Leicestershire, he left a son and heir,

SIR HUGH CALVELEY, Knt. of Lea, who married Margaret, dau. of Sir
John Done, Knt. of Utkinton, and left at his decease (Inq. p.m. 10 HEN.
VII.) a dau. Eliz. wife of John Eyton of Rhuabon, co. Denbigh, and a son
and heir, SIR HUGH CALVELEY, Knt. of Lea, whose wife was Christiana,
dau. and heir of Thomas Cottingham, and whose children, by her, were
four daus., Alice m. to Richard Clyve of Huxley, Jane m. to Sir John
Legh of Bagulegh, Dorothy m. to Robert Massey of Coddington, and
Eleanor, who d. unm., and one son,

SIR GEORGE CALVELEY of Lea, Knt. He m. Elizabeth, dau. of Sir
Piers Dutton of Hatton, Knt., and had besides a son and heir, SIR HUGH,
four other sons and six daus., viz. Peter and George, both d.s.p., John,
valet of Queen Mary, Anthony d. without lawful issue, Catharine wife of John
Beeston, Esq. of Beeston, Elizabeth wife of Richard Gerard of Crewood,
Eleanor, wife of John Davenport of Calveley, Christina wife of Richard
Hough of Leighton, Joan wife 1st of John Edwards of Chirk, co. Den-
bigh, and 2nd of Sir Ralph Leycester, Knt., and Dorothy wife 1st of Robert
Boswek, and 2ndly of Edward Aimer. The eldest son and heir,

SIR HUGH CALVELEY of Lea, knighted at Leith 1544, m. Eleanor dau.
and heiress of Ralph Tattershall of Bulkeley, and by her had, besides a dau.
Eleanor wife of John Dutton Esq. of Dutton, three sons I. Sir George
Calveley, Knt. of Lea, eldest son and heir, m. 1st, Margaret dau. of John
Moreton of Moreton, and 2ndly, Agnes dau. and heiress of Anthony Browne
of Wodhull, relict of Richard Chetwode, Esq. and by the latter only had
issue two sons, George and Hugh, both d. infants. He d. 5th August, 1585.
II. Hugh d. s.p. -, and III. HUGH. The youngest son and eventual heir to
his brother,

HUGH CALVELEY, Esq. of Lea, m. Mary dau. of Sir Ralph Leycester
of Toft, Knt. and had, besides three daus., Elizabeth, m. Edward Dutton,
Esq. of Dutton. Eleanor m. Henry, son of Sir Richard Lee of Lea, Knt.,
and Dorothy m. George Bostock of Holt, — a son,

SIR GEORGE CALVELEY of Lea, Knt. Sheriff of Cheshire, 1612, who
m. 1st Mary dau. of Sir Hugh Cholmondeley, Knt. of Cholmondeley, and
2nd a dau of Sir W. Jones — which lady m. 2ndly Judge Littleton. By his
first only, Sir George Calveley had issue, viz. Hugh, (Sir) his heir, Richard
and George both d. s, p., Mary and Dorothy both d. young, Elizabeth m.
Thomas Cotton, Esq. of Combermere, and Lettice m. Thomas Legh, D.D.
third son of Peter Legh of Lyme, Esq. Sir George d. 1 9th January, 1 6 1 9, and
was succeeded by his eldest son and heir,

SIR HUGH CALVELEY of Lea, knighted when sheriff of Cheshire in
1642. Hem. 1st, Lady Elizabeth dau. of Henry Earl of Huntingdon, and
2ndly, Mary dau. of Sir Gilbert Hoghton, Knt. of Hoghton Tower, co. Lan-
caster, and by the former only, had issue, a son and heir George Calveley,
born in 1635, d. young. Sir Hugh d. without surviving issue, 4 April,
1 648, and thus the male line of this ancient family ended. The estates were
divided between the families of his sisters, Elizabeth, wife of Thomas Cotton,
and Lettice wife of Thomas Legh, D.D. In the division of the estates, the
manor of Lea, with the lands north of the brook, passed to the Cottons,
those south of the brook to the Leghs of Lyme, The first of these shares
was sold by the late Sir Robert Salusbury Cotton, Bart,, to Mr. Joseph
White of London, and the others vested in Thomas Legh, Esq. of

NKGLKCTED GENEALOGY.

respecting tfje Hife mitt dfanrito of ^o!)it Ji»er, tljc
BY WILLIAM HILTON LONGSTAFFE, OF DARLINGTON.

THE biographies of the amiable and retiring author of Grongar Hill, have
hitherto been so imperfect, such mere sketches, that the writer deems it
but a justice to his ancestor, and a matter of some interest to the reading
public, those who feel that facts throwing a light on the lives of great men,
be they ever so small, should be placed on record, to give to the world all
the materials in his power which may prove of service to future writers.
And in the first place will be given a few notes relating to the poet's
ancestors. His contemporary relatives, his and their descendants, will ap-
pear at length at the conclusion of these articles : —

With regard to the origin of the Dyers from whom our author de-
scended, there seems to be conflicting opinions, not among the printed lives
of him, but among the family papers themselves. From the papers in the
hands of the Rev. Thomas Dyer, of Abbess-Roding, in the handwriting of
the poet's father, Robert Dyer, Esq. of Aberglasney, it is clear that the
last-named individual claimed descent from the Dyers of Somerset and
Devon, and has drawn their arms beside his name, viz. or, a chief indented
gules. Yet he is not uniform or steady in this statement, for in another
paper, similar in other respects to the others, he states them to be of South
Wales. These papers are numerous, agreeing tolerably, and systematically
arranged thus : —

" Non nobis nascimur.

Or, a chief indented gules quarterly with sable 3 goats passant argent
(the allusion to arms is in some copies omitted,) by the name of Dyer,
as in Guillim's Heraldry, are borne by Robert Dyer of Aberglasney, in
the county of Carmarthen, Gent, descended from the ancient family of
that name

/ Somersetshire,

J the counties of Somersett

j and Devon,

I South Wales.

His grandmother
was the

great granddaughter
daughter of the
daughter and only
child.*

Robert Ferrars, the bishop of S. David, who was burnt at Carmarthen in
the reign of Queen Mary, and his mother was descended
/ Sir William Thomas, formerly of Aberglasneyf

) the family of Sir Wm. Thomas, formerly of Aberglasney

He married

1 j Lhewellin Voythys, formerly of Aberglasney, Esq.
' the family of Lhewellin Voythys, of Aberglasney.
Catherine, daughter and coheir of John Cocks, Esq., of Comins, in the
county of Worcester, by Elizabeth, daughter and sole heir of Edmond
Bennet, of Mapleton, in the county of Hereford, Gent."

Cocks beareth " sable, a chevron between 3 attires of a stag fix't to the
scalp argent."

He states also that he got seals engraved for himself, wife, and son
Robert, with the arms of Dyer ; but as I have never seen or heard of
these seals being in existence I know not what arms he meant.

* A generation is 'evidently missed out here. W. H. L.

f " This is a copy y' I left with Mr. Thomas.

" It is remarkable that'the Dyers became again possessed of the estate of Aberglas-
ney purchased by'llobert Dyer (married to Miss Cocks as aforesaid) of Sir Rice Rudd1
Bart. — FRAN. DYER, his grandson."

NEGLECTED GENEALOGY/'

" Dyer indeed himself evidently leans to this origin, for in the Fleece
is the following remarjcable passage. (Book 3.)

One day arose

fVio Tirpavincy nrt«

When ALVA'S tyranny the weaving arts
Drove from the fertile vallies of the Scheld.
With speedy wing, and scatter'd course, they fled,
Like a community of bees, disturbed
By some relentless swain's rapacious hand ;
While good ELIZA, to the fugitives
Gave gracious welcome ; as wise ^Egypt erst
To troubled Nilus, whose nutritious flood
With annual gratitude enrich'd her meads.
Then, from fan* Antwerp, an industrious train
Crossed the smooth channel of our smiling seas ;
And hi the vales of Cantium, &c.

Narrating the different places of their settlement, he then goes on to
specify amongst the others,

that soft tract

Of Cambria, deep embay'd, Dimetian land,
By green hills fenc'd, by oceans murmur lulPd f
Nurse of the rustic bard, who now resounds
The fortunes of the fleece ; whose ancestors
Were fugitives from superstition's rage,
And erst, from Devon, thither brought the loom j
Where ivi'd walls of old KIDWELLY'S tow'rs,
Nodding, still on their gloomy brows project
Lancastria's arms, emboss'd in mouldering stone.

Which in the first rough notes of the poem, in my possession, is repre-
sented thus ; —

Driven by ye D. of Alva,

nor brought ye Fleece alone

But various artizans allur'd they came
With all their instruments of art, their wheels
And looms and drugs of many a beauteous stain
5 A pretious 1 ™ . , ,
* Inestimable I Frei&ht' $ See Gary, p. 70.

From the letter in the sequel it would appear that this descent from the
Dyers of Somerset and Devon was derived from one Francis Dyer ; but as
I think nothing of this descent, for both the Dyers of Wales and Somer-
setshire date in England anterior to the Duke of Alva, and no proved
descent from the latter race is given, I pass on to the poet's descent from
the Dyers of Wales, which I think there can be no doubt is the true one.

The Dyers of Cardiganshire and Pembrokeshire rank among the most
ancient lines of Wales, but the pedigrees given of them, show their ex-
tinction in the main branch in heiresses, and give not the descendants of
the cadets of the house. Their arms were " Gules, an eagle displayed
argent, beaked and crined or. And it must primarily be understood that
the poet uniformly used the coat " Gu. 3 eagles displayed argent," and his
brother Thomas's descendants bear the same. Upon the whole, this stock
seems the most likely to derive our poet from, but leaving conjectures, we
will now proceed to show his immediate ancestors.

NEGLECTED GENEALOGY. g

f The following extracts from the pleadings of the Duchy of Lancaster
(anterior to Elizabeth's time} doubtless belong to our family, though they
cast little lustre on it.

23 Hen. 8. Margery, late wife of William Davy, v. David Dyer, Mayor of

Kydwelly. — Charge of aiding and abetting escape of murderer. —
Kydwelly Lordship, Gower Lordship. — Wales.

24 Hen. 8. John Turner & ux. v. Charles Herbert, Howell Dyer, and

others. — Forcible entry and tortious possession of messuage,
lands and appurtenances, and false imprisonment. — Osbaston,
Monmouth Lordship. — Wales.

3 Edw. 6. James William & ux. v. Morres Dyer and others. — Tortious
possession of messuages, lands, and pasture, and detention of
title deeds. — Kydwelly. — Caermarthenshire.

Then will come conveniently the following letter from Rowland Hickes,
a relation of the family, which gives a fair account of the Dyers : —

Honoured Cousen, Sber, 1716.

According to yr request I have made what enquiry I could, and I send it
to yu if any thinge of this natur will bee searviable to yu I shall be redy to
searvice, yu will finde inclosed the names of the Aid" and principle Burgesses
recorded in the charter granted by King James the first, 1618, by which it
can not bee considared that yu are any wayes descended from Francis Dyer
yu mentioned to bee in the reigne of Queen Elizabeth, for since yr grand-
father was borne is above 122, who might be 22 or 23 when the charter
was had, his father was then bee before her reigne, and abo* the family it
can not bee denied but that they were very ancient in this towne and respon-
sible, when five of them was named in 24, especioly att that time when the
town was both populous and rich, but nothing to what it had bine in former
times, it is a common tradition that they, the Fishers, Collins, Rows, Ed-
wards, and others, were hever since the Conquest, but I rather thinke that
they came with Thomas and Morris de Londres, who got and built this
castle, as nowe it is (with stone), Morris Dyer was the great granfather of
Wm. Dyer. Henry Fisher was yr great grandfather, and John Fisher was
his brother, who was the fifth mayor by this charter. Hugh Dyer was yr
g* grandfather, Dd Dyer was John Dyer, my son in law's grandfather. I
supose all these Dyers died soon after, for there is noe mention of them
since, nor could bee except they had bine maiors, for wee have noe records
but the names of the mairs until Richard Payne was the ninth maior, since
wee have records that gives account of most materiall things that was acted,
this far of the Aldn

John Dyer, who is named amongst the principle Burgesses, was John
Dyer's grandfather by his mother, and David Dyer was Hugh Dyer yr
great granfs Brother, named by David Roger Dyer and was the 1 3th maior
there was a commission sent to Sr Gerard Bromley and Thomas Lowley,
Esq. to enquire to the state of the towne in the fifth year of King James,
wherein there r severall of the Dyers in that Jury of 24 men. I doubt this
is rather a trouble to yu than any satisfaction, and forbear any further
(yr grandfather was the 21st maior) with due respects to yu and all yrs, I
rest yr ever affectionat vnkle whilst

ROWLAND HICKES.
Ffor Mr. Robert Dyer att Aber-
glasney these to be left at the
Nag's head in Carmarthen.

10 NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.

(Inclosure)

by the charter of Kidwelly granted by
King James ye 1st, anno duo 1618.

First Mayor

Thomas Babmgton, Esq.

First Ald'men

John Howell, Morris Dyer, Henry Fisher, Master of Arts,
Hugh Dyer, David Dyer, John Aylward, William Gardener,
Griffith Bowen, John Fisher, David William, Griffith Row,
and David King.

First Bayliffs

William Gardener and Owen Bowen, Gent.

First principal Burgesses

Owen Bowen, John Dyer, David Dyer, John Phillipps, Morris
Fisher, David Mansell, Walter Rice, William Collinn, Henry
Jones, Thomas Walter, David Morton, and Morrice Rees.

First Chamberlain

Robert Joliffs. First Recorder, Henry Fleetwood.

To the above letter is appended the following note in Robert Dyer's writing —

Roger Dyer of Kidwelly. Bp. Ferrar.

Hugh Dyer, made alderman of Kid- dau. married Wms, Wm's

welly by charter of James I. daughter married Hen. Fisher, ma'r

Robert Dyer, 21 Maior of ye towne. of Arts, Vicar of Kidwelly.
Robert Dyer. 1st, Robert married Eleanor, that

Robert Dyer of Aberg?. Fisher's daughter.

Rob*. Dyer, 1st (son, I suppose, un- 2nd, Robert married Mary, dau. to

derstood) David Wm8, of Brinkarod.

3rd, Robert ma. Catherine, daughter
to John Cocks, &c.

and the following endorsement.

" Letter Mr. Hicks about ye family of ye Dyers in Kidwelly, in a bre
of ye 14 of ye same month he gives an acco't y't they came there with
Will'm de Londres ab't ye year 1093, and conquered these p'ts and built
ye Castle there with stone, and brought ye Welsh to subjection."

I have already (in the statements of Robert Dyer) introduced the poet's
ancestors by the marriages of his fathers. The most distinguished one is
undoubtedly the martyr, Bishop Ferrars, or Farrer, about whom I shall not
here make any remarks. He has been praised and vindicated by abler
hands,* and his exact relations seem hid in mystery. It admits of no doubt

* See Woods's Athen. Oxon. I. 580. Also Thoresby and Whittaker's histories of
Leeds, sub tit. Halifax and Wortley.

Some of the articles which he was put to answer in the reign of Edward VI. were to
the last degree frivolous, &c. ; viz. riding a Scottish pad with a bridle with white studs
and snaffle, white Scottish stirrups and white spurs ; wearing a hat instead of a cap ;
whistling to his child; laying the blame of the scarcity of herrings to the covetousness
of the fishers, who in time of plenty took so many that they destroyed the breeders ;
and lastly, wishing that at the alteration of the coin, whatever metal it was made of,
the penny should be in weight worth a penny of the same metal. Granger's Bios'
Hist. i. 198.

NKGLKCTBD GENEALOGY. 11

that he was intimately connected with the Farrers of Ewood, in the" West
Riding, but their pedigree begins a generation too late for our purpose.
The Dyers have quartered the arras, argent, six Horseshoes, three, two,
and one, sable, in right of their having the representation of the Bishop ;
the Farrers bear Or, on a bend engrailed sable, three horseshoes argent ;
but every antiquary will recollect the extreme variations in the Ferrars
coats.

With regard to the Bennetts I have their quarterings drawn in the poet's
own hand, with certain remarks upon them, I here give them entire.

1. Gules, a bezant between 3 demi-lions rampant, argent. " Bennets —

Bennet of Mapleton, Herefordshire, of ye Arlington family. BIJ Benn1
was of ye same family."

2. Argent, on a bend sinister sable, 3 pears or. " Perry s— -Pierry of

Nicholson, near Leominster, Herefordsh. — By the Pierrys some of my
old aunts were used to say we were descended from ye Mortimers by

a female, and y* of right a share of Wymerley(P) shd have come

to them.

3. Gules, a fess between 3 owls, or. " Webbs, of Gillirigham in Kent. . . .

Webbs, ye daugh. of Charles Webbs, ye son of John Webbs, who was
burnt in Q. Mary's days. She was an Heiress, and married Dr John

Bennet, who was to prince Henry — he lost the pelf in ye search

of ye Philosopher's stone."

4. Or, a fess between 3 lozenges azure.

5. 6 ermines, 3, 2, and 1.

6. Argent, a chevron gules between 3 estoiles sable.

Crest, on a wreath a demi-lion holding between his paws a mound.

J-a

In another shield he quarters the same arms, in conjunction with Cocks,
Ferrars, Thomas, and Ensor. As to the latter, the Ensor quartering came
only through his wife, so the coat must have been constructed for his son to
bear. The Thomas arms are very roughly drawn, but seem to have been a
plain cross, a sword in pale, point upwards, in the first quarter. It is very
evident, however, that Williams and Fisher should have been quartered also ;
and in a rough shield drawn by Robert Dyer, the poet's father, the names
Fisher and Williams are inserted in the two first quarters, but not the
bearings.

The above details are mere notes, but they may be explanatory of circum-
stances in the sequel, and the writer will feel obliged by communications
throwing light on the families mentioned above.

With regard to the Dyers themselves, the pedigree would appear to stand
thus : —

Bishop Robert Ferrars, Farrars,=p David Dyer, Mayor Howell Dyer, of

or Farrar, of S. Davids, burnt at I of Kidwelly, 23 Hen. Monmouth Lord-

Carmarthen, 22 Feb. 1555. 8. ship, 24 Hen. 8.

— Ferrars,=r= — Williams. Roger Dyer,=f= Morris Dyer, of Kidwelly

d. & heiress ) of Kidwelly. Lordship, 3 Edw. 6.

,-r- - - w imams, jioger JL»yer,=f=
s I of Kidwelly.

a b

NEGLECTED GENEALOGY.

— Wil- =
Hams,

J i — — I
=Henry John Hugh =p. . . .
Fisher, Fisher, Dyer,

David =
ap

= David =j
Dyer,

=. . . . Moris =
Dyer,

=....

dau. and

M. A. Alder- one of

Roger

Burgess

anal.

heiress.

Vicar man of the first

Dyer,

of Kyd-

derman

ofKyd- Kyd- Alder-

Burgess

welly,

ofKyd-

welly, welly, men of

ofKyd-

1618,

welly,

Alder- 1618, Kyd-

welly in

Grand-

1618.

man'of & 5th welly

1618,

father

that mayor under

& 13th

to John

place, of that King
1618. place, James's

Mayor
of the

Dyer,

by his

under charter.

same

mother,

King 1618.

place.

(Row-

James's
Charter

land
Hickes)

—

I -
Elinor

=P Robert S Rowland Hickes=i

= — Dyer=

= — Dyer — Dyer=

Fisher,

Dyer, calls the 3rd Ro-

dau. and

13th bert " Cousen,"

heiress.

Mayor of & signs " unkle "

Kidwelly calls John Dyer

his "son in law."

See his letter

ante.

'-.

1 i —

Robert=

=Mary Williams, d. of David Wil-

— Hickes ?— John Dyer. — Dyer=j

Dyer.

liams, of Brinkavord, by Anne

Brinkar,* descended from Lhew-

ellenVoytliys of Aberglasney, and

also from the family of Sir Wil-

liam Thomas, of the same place,

Gent.

Robert Dyer, of Aberglasney,=pCatherine Cocks, d. & coh. of John Cocks William Dyer
par. Langarthen, Gent, an I of Com ins, Worcesters. by Elizabeth, d.
attorney, dead before 1 720, & h. of Edmond Bennet, of Mapleton,
bought Aberglasney of Sir | Herefords. Gent. — Mentioned 1720 as

Rice Rudd, Baronet.

having an annuity of £300 out of Aber- ]
glasney estate.

Robert.

JOHN,

THE POET.
of whom more

Thomas,
hereafter.

Bennet.

Richard Dyer, Esq. was living on an estate called Abersannar, Carmar-
thenshire, cotemporaneously with the poet, and I have a sketch of an ancient
cross on that estate drawn by the latter. It is probable, therefore, he was
of the same family. Vide Archaeological Journal, iii. 357.

In my next article I shall speak of Dyer himself.

* This is on the authority of another note in the handwriting of Robert Dyer, which
agrees in other respects with what has been given before, save that he makes Robert
the first, the son of John Edward Dyer, the son of Edward Dyer, an improbable state-
ment ; indeed David Roger's name shows that the true homo prepositus of the family
was a Roger Dyer. There was an Edward Dyer among the cadets of the Somersetshire
house, which circumstance perhaps induced the adoption of this unproved pedigree,
but Hicks in his letter (and he must have been well acquainted with all the Kidwelly
families) is very explicit as to the Welsh origin.

MARSHAL GROUCHY.

GROUCHY, one of the fast-expiring1 remnants of the Empire, whose death
was lately announced, though by no means among the first of French
generals, played too important a part in the latter days of the great
revolutionary war, to be excluded from a passing notice ; his mysterious
conduct contributed more perhaps than any other cause to Napoleon's
fall.

The late marshal, the offspring of a noble family, was born at Paris,
on the 23rd of October, 1766, and his birth qualifying him for rapid
advancement under the ancient regime, he in his fifteenth year entered the
artillery, and ere his nineteenth was a captain in the household brigade
of the king. When the Revolution broke out, however, he embraced its
principles with zeal, and quickly attained the^ command of a regiment
of dragoons, with which he took part in the campaign of 1792. For
his services on this occasion he, towards the end of that year, received
the command of the cavalry of the army of the Alps, and contributed
to the conquest of Savoy. Thence he was transferred to La Vendee on
the outbreak of its celebrated insurrection, and experienced better for-
tune than most of the French officers who there encountered the rustic
insurgents. Charette, their leader, was mainly prevented by his exertions
from taking Nantes, and in almost every encounter with the rebels
Grouchy came off with equal success, At Sorrinceres in 1793, he es-
pecially distinguished himself, leaping from his horse on the verge of a
morass and passing through with his men when his opponents deemed
their position unassailable, and routing them with disastrous loss. In
the following year, however, the decree of the Convention excluding
noble officers from the army, deprived him of his command, and he
deemed it expedient to avoid the danger which then menaced all mem-
bers of the aristocracy, by throwing himself as a private into the Na-
tional Guards. But eight months saw him restored, and with the
rank of a general of division, he returned to La Vendee.

The expedition to Quiberon Bay, first introduced him to the notice of
the English. By a rapid march across the insurgent territory, he unexpec-
tedly placed himself at Hoche's disposal, and then essentially contributed
to the issue of that sanguinary struggle. When the great republican
general was appointed to the command of what was termed the Army
of the Ocean, destined, it was supposed, for the invasion of England,
Grouchy in consequence received the appointment of one of its lieuten-
ants ; but events occurred to alter the original intention of the directory,
and Grouchy returned to the scene of his former career in La Vendee,
while Hoche repaired to Ireland. He was, however, quickly summoned
back, and hastily embarking, despatched to Bantry Bay. But Hoche had
been prevented by a storm from reaching it, and the expedition consequently
failed. Grouchy landed in Ireland, but his hesitation, as at Waterloo,
averted our danger : he quickly re-embarked, and returning to
Brest, was effectually employed in putting down Charette and Stofflet.
Impatient of this service, he solicited a command in Napoleon's projected
expedition to Egypt ; and Desaix being considered to have superior
claims, the refusal which followed is supposed to have disinclined him to
the Emperor's cause. While Bonaparte was absent in Egypt, Grouchy

14 MARSHAL GROUCHY.

repaired to Italy, and having been entrusted with a secret mission by the
directory, so effectually performed his part, that when Joubert came to
assail the impregnable Sardinian forces, they surrendered without a blow.
Grouchy, on the abdication of the king, received the command of the
country in reward, and he left the reputation of having governed it with
equity. When Moreau was subsequently appointed to restrain the
career of Suwarrow, Grouchy was appointed one of his lieutenants, and took
part in the memorable campaign of Piedmont, where twenty-five thou-
sand French troops were so ably manoeuvred, that for six weeks they
baffled all the efforts of eighty thousand Austro -Russians. When by an
unexpected movement part of them at last passed the enemy's flank, the
battle of Novi followed j but the French, it is well known, were defeated,
on that occasion : Grouchy, severely wounded, fell into the hands of the
Russians. The Grand-Duke Constantine received him with distinction j
placed his purse, surgeon, and domestics at the prisoner's disposal, and
after a year's captivity, succeeded in obtaining his exchange for that of
the English general Dow. A division in the army of reserve was imme-
diately assigned him ; but he had already established intimate relations
with Moreau, and being entrusted with the command of eighteen thou-
sand men, took a distinguished share in the memorable campaign of
Hohenlinden. Ney, however, with Richepanse and Decaen, after Moreau,
monopolized the glories of that day, and Grouchy was despatched to keep
in check the Archduke John, which he so effectually managed that when
the other columns of the French subsequently united, the Austrians were
overwhelmed, and fifteen thousand prisoners, with one hundred guns, fell
into the hands of the enemy.

Peace followed, and Grouchy was placed on the reduced establishment,
but the turbulent ambition of Napoleon again summoned him and every
other Frenchman to arms. A grudge, however, seerns to have existed
between him and the emperor j but still, though unpromoted to what he
deemed his due rank, Grouchy took a brilliant part in the campaign of
Jena, and fell so unexpectedly on the Prince of Hohenloe, that sixteen
thousand men, with sixty-four pieces of artillery, were compelled to lay
down their arms. At the battle of Lubeck which followed, his troops
were again successful ; the cavalry under his command defeating Blucher,
and the town being shortly afterwards surrendered. In the terrible action
of Friedland his division suffered dreadfully, only twelve hundred out of
four thousand horse being left unwounded on the plain. His bravery on
this occasion, when with cavalry alone he opposed the enemy till the
infantry came up, contributed with the accidental absence of Murat to
secure him the command of that force at the battle of Eylau, and his
services were warmly acknowledged by Napoleon, though he still re-
mained attached to Moreau.

The peace of Tilsit having terminated this campaign, Grouchy was
despatched to Spain, and was governor of Madrid when the sanguinary
insurrection broke out. His conduct on this occasion has been severely
arraigned, but his friends ullege that he only executed the orders of
Murat. He even disapproved, it is added, of the Peninsular invasion,
and was in consequence recalled and despatched to Italy, whither Mac-
donald had previously been sent for similar sentiments. Grouchy was
thus enabled to distinguish himself in the passage of the Izonso : but
on the recurrence of hostilities with Austria he soon passed into Ger-
many, and bore a conspicuous share in the decisive conflict of Wagram.

MARSHAL GROUCHY. 15

Macdonald, who accompanied him, still more essentially contributed to
that victory. His terrible advance on that day is one of the most me-
morable deeds in military annals, and both consequently were re-installed
in the imperial favour. But Grouchy, on the plea that civic honours
were inconsistent with a soldier's duties, refused to become a member of
Napoleon's senate.

On the projected expedition to Russia, he received the command of
one of the three corps into which the French cavalry was divided, and
was the first Frenchman who crossed the Boristhenes. Napoleon was
still twenty leagues distant, and Grouchy was thus enabled to come first
into contact with the Russians at Krasnoe. He routed, and compelled
them to fall back upon Smolensk, where Napoleon next day defeated
them decisively. The terrific battle of Moscow followed, and the ca-
valry under Grouchy, by turning a Russian redoubt, ultimately put an
end to the slaughter of the day. With his son, Grouchy was severely
wounded ; and he was still suffering at Moscow when Napoleon com-
menced his memorable retreat. But necessity compelled him to take
the field, and when a fearful frost struck down almost all the horses of
the army in a night, he received the command of the "sacred squadron''
formed to secure the personal safety of the emperor. By the exertions
of this devoted band, still more than of its leader, Napoleon was enabled
to escape the fate of Charles XII. after the battle of Pultawa ; and the
terrible passage of the Berezino at last interposed shelter between him
and his fierce pursuers. In the campaign of 1813, Grouchy took no
part. Having been refused a division of infantry, he retired discontented
to Calvados ; but after the battle of Leipsic he complied with the im-
perial commands and again placed himself at the head of the horse.
He was too feeble to restrain the enemy. The splendid cavalry of France
was no more, and all the efforts of Grouchy consequently failed to avert
the passage of the Rhine. Yet they were so great, that Napoleon at
last bestowed on him the long-coveted marshal's baton. But the
emperor's power and his honours now alike were passing ; and 1815 saw
Grouchy in the service of the Bourbons. The injudicious conduct of
the restored government, however, detached him and many others from
its cause; and having been superseded in the command of the favourite
chasseurs by the Duke de Berri, he again joined Napoleon on returning
from Elba. He was entrusted with the duty of counteracting the Duke
D'Angouleme, and in a few days so succeeded as to compel him to capi-
tulate ; but the terms displeased Napoleon, who designed to make the
duke prisoner and exchange him for Maria Louisa, then detained by her
father in Italy. Grouchy's conduct was considered so sinister that Cor-
binau, a devoted adherent of the emperor, was detached as aid-de-camp
to watch him. But Napoleon could not then stand on trifles nor afford
to lose the services of so important an arm. Grouchy accordingly was
continued in command ; and now the ambiguous part of his conduct
commences. The campaign of 1815 opened with unexpected success
on the part of Napoleon. The battle of Fleurus, though indecisive,
was brilliant ; and the attitude assumed by the French was exceedingly
menacing. On the 17th June, Grouchy was despatched with thirty-four
thousand men and a hundred guns to pursue or hold in check the Prus-
sians ; and during the whole of the 18th remained at Wavres. The
murderous conflict of Waterloo was waging in the interval; and
Grouchy, though but four leagues distant, rested inactive. He distinctly
heard the guns ; but the positive orders of the emperor, it is alleged on

16 MARSHAL GROUCHY.

the one hand, fixed him to the spot, while, on the other, it is asserted
that he was acting in collusion with the enemy; £20,000 have been men-
tioned as the bribe ; but the friends of the marshal reply that till three
o'clock in the afternoon the victory on the part of the French was se-
cure. At that hour, however, two Prussian corps under Bulow, which
Grouchy had permitted to escape, suddenly cleared the defile of St. Lam-
bert/and unexpectedly assailing the French, turned the fortune of the day.

The issue is known: but Grouchy in his "Observations on the cam-
paign of 1315," published at Philadelphia, states that he was ignorant
of Napoleon's disastrous overthrow till next day, and the course he then
adopted contributes, with his subsequent banishment, to render his con-
duct more inexplicable. Rallying the remains of the imperial army at
Laon, he proclaimed Napoleon II Emperor, and proposed to unite with
Soult in a vigorous effort for the preservation of French indepen-
dence. From Soult, however, he received information that ill-health
and Napoleon's abdication prevented him from longer acting either as
the emperor's major-general or commander of Paris ; and the Provisional
Government, immediately on Soult's resignation, appointed Grouchy to
the command of all the corps of the grand army remaining. On re-
ceiving this intelligence, Grouchy set out for Paris, resolving to approach
by the left bank of the Oise j but the allies occupied the right bank and
the intercommuning bridges in such force that he was unable to proceed
farther than the forest of Compiegne. Finding the enemy ranged
strongly in possession of the town, he resolved to draw up his force be-
hind the wood, to cover if possible the route to the capital. A fresh
order from the Provisional Government, however, to repair by forced
marches to Paris, induced him to abandon this design; and on his ar-
rival there he found Davoust invested with the chief command. The
latter, according to Grouchy, informed him that it was all over with the
imperial cause, and that nothing remained but to mount the white cock-
ade of the Bourbons.

If Grouchy is to be credited, he vehemently opposed this design, and
repaired to Fouch£ to remonstrate ; but all he obtained from the un-
scrupulous minister of police was a recommendation to go and offer
terms to the allies. From this, the marshal says, he indignantly re-
volted. He proceeded, instead, to the council then sitting at Villette,
and advised them either to assail the English or the Prussians ;
offering his services as a private soldier, if he was not permitted to com-
mand. But he was either viewed with distrust, or the advice was over-
ruled. His colleagues pronounced it impracticable ; and in the ordinance
of the 24th July, which followed, Grouchy's name was amongst the list
of those who were exiled from France.

From this period, he lived in retirement ; at first in the United States
of America, whither he withdrew on his banishment, and latterly at St.
Etienne, where he died. In 1831 he was placed on the list of Marshals
by King Louis Philippe. In a memoir of hkn published a few years ago
when his conduct was vehemently impeached, he is represented to have
been during twenty-three years intrusted with important commands, to
have been present in twelve great battles and sixty minor actions, to
have received nineteen wounds, and after thirty-five years of active ser-
vice to have found himself of poorer fortune than he received at his
birth. Such considerations are affecting j but there is a doubt over-
hanging his memory and outweighing all.

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.

No. XL — THE TRIAL OF EARL FERRERS FOR MURDER.

IN the whole annals of our criminal jurisprudence no trial perhaps
has excited more lasting interest, and is more generally known, than
that of the unfortunate Lawrence Shirley, fourth Earl Ferrers. We
say unfortunate, because there seems little doubt, at the present day, that
the noble offender committed the deed whilst in a state of insanity. In-
deed, the very crime itself, and the mode of its accomplishment could
have scarcely been other than the work of a madman. The evidence
adduced on the part of his lordship, would certainly now have established
a case of lunacy sufficient to have saved the murderer from the extreme
penalty of the law. The rejection of his lordship's plea of insanity may,
even at the time, have been caused by his examining the witnesses him-
self with so much apparent sense and skill, and by his own evident dis-
inclination to rely on such a defence. The excitement caused by the
trial, and execution of Earl Ferrers, is to be easily accounted for. The
almost unparalleled sight of a peer of this realm brought to the bar of
justice, and publicly put to death on other than political grounds, made
a deep arid lasting impression ; and, though we may quarrel with the
verdict, we cannot but admire the stern rectitude of a government which,
once persuaded of the sanity of the culprit, would allow no consideration
of rank or station to intervene in the vindication of the law. George II,
when applied to, to alter the punishment from hanging to beheading,
is reported to have said " No, he has done the deed of the bad man, and he
shall die the death of the bad man." The Earl's fate may be truly re-
garded as an example of the impartial majesty of the English law. But
to proceed to Lord Ferrers' personal history.

Lawrence Shirley, fourth Earl Ferrers, the subject of this trial, was
the grandson of Robert the first Earl, through his fourth sou Lawrence,
who married Anne, fourth daughter of Sir Walter Clarges, baronet, and
whose three eldest sons, though he did not succeed to the title himself,
were successively fourth, fifth, and sixth Earls Ferrers. The family of
Shirley, Lords Ferrers, is one of highantiquity and honour, dating its emi-
nence back to the time of the Normans. The first Earl Ferrers had, while
Sir Robert Shirley, and prior to the creation of his Earldom, become Lord
Ferrers, of Chartley, Bourchier, and Louvaine j King Charles II. having
terminated the abeyance of those baronies in his favour, as one of the de
scendants of the famous Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex. His grandson,
the unhappy Lord Ferrers of the trial, was born in August, 1720 ; he
married the 16th Sept. 1752, Mary, youngest daughter of Amos Mere-
dith, Esq., son and heir of Sir William Meredith, baronet, of Henbury j
but his lordship's irrational and cruel usage of this lady, who was re-
markable for her mild disposition, obliged her to apply to parliament for
redress ; and accordingly, an act was passed by which they were sepa-
rated. She had no issue by the Earl, and after his death, she was again

VOL. IV. NO. XV; C

18 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

married to Lord Frederick Campbell, brother to John, fourth Duke of
Argyll.

The trial of Lord Ferrers took place in Westminster Hall; it com-
menced on the 16th April, 1760, and lasted three days ; the Lord Keeper,
Lord Henley, acting as Lord High Steward.

After the usual preliminary formalities, the Earl was brought to the
bar by the deputy governor of the Tower, having the axe carried before
him by the gentleman gaoler, who stood with it on the left hand of the
prisoner, with the edge turned from him. The prisoner, when he ap-
proached the bar, made three reverences, and then fell upon his knees
at the bar.

L. H. S, Your lordship may rise. '

The prisoner rose up, and bowed to his Grace the Lord High Steward,
and to the House of Peers 3 the compliment was returned him by his
Grace and the Lords.

Proclamation having been made again for silence, the Lord High
Steward spoke to the prisoner as follows : —

Lawrence Earl Ferrers 3 you are brought to this bar to receive
your trial upon a charge of the murder of John Johnson ; an accusa-
tion, with respect to the crime, and the persons who make it (the grand
jury of the county of Leicester, the place of your lordship's residence),
of the most solemn and serious nature.

Yet my lord, you may consider it but as an accusation 5 for the
greatest or meanest subject of this kingdom (such is the tenderness of
our law) cannot be convicted capitally, but by a charge made by twelve
good and lawful men, and a verdict found by the same number of
his equals at the least.

My lord, in this period of the proceedings, while your lordship stands
only as accused, I touch but gently on the offence charged upon your
lordship ; yet, for your own sake, it behoves me strongly to mark the
nature of the judicature before which you now appear.

It is a happiness resulting from your lordship's birth and the constitu-
tion of this country, that your lordship is now to be tried by your peers
in full parliament: What greater consolation can be suggested to
a person in your unhappy circumstances, than to be reminded, that you
are to be tried by a set of judges, whose sagacity and penetration
no material circumstances in evidence can escape, and whose justice
nothing can influence or pervert ?

This consideration, if your lordship is conscious of innocence, must
free your mind from any perturbations that the solemnity of' such
a trial might excite ; it will render the charge, heavy as it is, unembar-
rassing, and leave your lordship firm and composed, to avail yourself of
every mode of defence, that the most equal and humane laws admit of.

Your lordship, pursuant to the course of this judicature, hath been
furnished with a copy of the indictment, and hath had your own counsel
assigned ; you are therefore enabled to make such defence as is most
for your benefit and advantage ; if your lordship shall put yourself
on trial, you must be assured to meet with nothing but justice, candour,
and impartiality.

Before 1 conclude, I am, by command of the House, to acquaint your
lordship, and all other persons who have occasion to speak to the Court,
during the trial, that they are to address themselves to the Lords
in general, and not to any lord in particular.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 19

Lawrence Earl Ferrers, your lordship will do well to give attention,
while you are arraigned on your indictment.

Here Earl Ferrers was arraigned, in the form of the indictment, against
him, by the Clerk of the Crown in the King's-bench.

The case for the crown was most ably stated by the Attorney General,
Charles Pratt, afterwards Lord Camden. Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas, and Lord Chancellor. His speech, which is as follows, has been
regarded as a model for an address on the part of the prosecution.

Mr. Attorney General. " May it please your lordships, it becomes" my
duty to open to your lordships the facts and circumstances of this
case, out of which your lordships are to collect and find the crime that
is charged in this indictment.

The noble prisoner stands here arraigned before your lordships for
that odious offence, malicious and deliberate murder. There cannot be
a crime in human society that deserves more to be punished, or more
strictly to be enquired after; and therefore it is, that his Majesty,
the great executive hand of justice in this kingdom, has promoted this
inquiry, whereby all men may see, that in the case of murder his
Majesty makes no difference between the greatest and meanest of his
subjects.

The prisoner has a right, from his quality, to the privilege of being
tried before this noble tribunal j if he is innocent, he has the greatest
reason to be comforted, that your lordships are his judges • for that
nobleness and humanity, which prompt you naturally to incline towards
mercy, will strongly exert themselves in the protection of innocence.
But, on the other hand, if the prisoner is really guilty of the charge, his
case is truly deplorable -, because your minds cannot be deceived by the
false colouring of rhetoric, nor your zeal for justice perverted by any
unmanly compassion.

This impartial disposition in your lordships call upon the prosecutors
to observe a conduct worthy of this noble assembly ; not to enlarge or
aggravate any part, or advance a step beyond their instructions ; but
barely to state the naked facts, in order that, by that means, your lord-
ships may be enabled the better to attend to the witnesses when they are
called, to examine and cross-examine, and sift out the truth with more
accuracy.

My lords, as I never thought it my duty in any case to attempt at
eloquence, where a prisoner stood upon trial for his life ; much less shall
I think myself justified in doing it before your lordships -} give me leave
therefore to proceed to a narration of the facts.

My lords, the deceased person, Mr. Johnson, I find to have been
employed by the Ferrers family almost during the whole course of his
life : he was taken into their service in his youth, and continued in it
unfortunately to the time' of his death.

At the time a bill was passed by your lordships, about two years ago,
to separate Lord Ferrers from his lady, Mr. Johnson was appointed
receiver of his lordship's estates. At that time his lordship seems
to have entertained a good opinion of him, because I am told he was
appointed receiver at his lordship's own nomination ; but, very soon
after he became invested with this trust, when the noble lord found there
was no possible method, by any temptation whatever, to prevail on Mr.
Johnson to break that trust, his lordship's mind grew to be alienated
towards him, and his former friendship was converted into hatred.

c 2

£0 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

The first instance of his lordship's malice, that will be produced, will
be his giving him notice to quit a beneficial i'arm that Mr. Johnson had
obtained a promise of from the Earl, or his relations, before he was
appointed receiver j but when it appeared that the trustees had made
good the promise, and had granted him a lease, my lord was obliged to
desist from that attempt.

When he found it was impossible to remove him from the farm, his
resentment against Mr. Johnson increased, and he took at last a deter-
mined resolution within himself to commit the horrid fact for which he
now stands arraigned.

My lords, I find several causes assigned by the prisoner for this indig-
nation expressed against the deceased; he charged him with having
colluded secretly with his adversaries, with being in the interest of those
he was pleased to call his enemies, and instrumental in procuring the Act
of Parliament : whether these charges were justly founded or not, is totally
immaterial ; such as they were, he had conceived them. His lordship,
who best knew the malice of his own heart, has confessed that he
harboured these suspicions.

Another thing h« suspected was, that, in confederacy with Mr. Burslem
and Mr. Curzon, he agreed to disappoint his lordship, in regard to
a certain contract for coal mines. These notions, though void of truth,
had so poisoned his lordship's mind, that he was determined at last to
gratify his revenge by murder.

This determination being once settled and fixed in his mind, your
lordships will see, with what art and deliberation it was pursued : not-
withstanding these seeming causes of disgust, he dissembled all appear-
ance of ill-will or resentment ; his countenance towards the deceased for
some months seemed greatly to be changed, and his behaviour was
affable and good-humoured.

The poor man, deluded with these appearances, was brought to believe
he was in no danger, and that he might safely trust himself alone with
his lordship.

Matters being thus prepared, on Sunday, the 13th January, the pri-
soner made an appointment to Mr. Johnson to come to him on the
Friday following.

His lordship, though the appointment was five or six days before,
remembered it perfectly; nay, he remembered the very hour he was to
come, and took his measures accordingly ; for your lordships will find,
that in order to clear the house, Mrs. Cliffordi a woman who lives with
his lordship, and four children, were directed by him, at three o'clock
precisely, to absent themselves 5 they were ordered to walk out to Mrs.
Clifford's father, about two miles from my lord's house, and not to
return till five, or half an hour after five.

The two men-servants likewise, the only servants of that sex then
residing with them, were contrived to be sent out of the way; so that
when Mr. Johnson repaired to Stanton, my lord's house, at three
o'clock, there was no person in the house, except his lordship, and three
maid-servants.

Mr. Johnson, when he came to the house, rapt at the door, and was
received by his lordship, and directed to wait some time in the still
room ; then his lordship ordered him into the parlour, where they both
entered together, and the door was immediately locked on the inside.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 21

What passed in that interval, between the time of Mr. Johnson's first
going in, and the time of his being shot, can only be now known to your
lordships by the noble Earl's confession, which has been very ample
indeed upon the present occasion.

After Mr. Johnson had been there the best part of an hour, one of the
maids in the kitchen, hearing some high words in the parlour, went
to the door to see if she could discover what was doing j she listened,
and heard my lord, as she was at the kitchen door, say, down upon your
knees j your time is come j you must die; and presently after heard a
pistol go off; upon that, she removed from the kitchen, and retired
to another part of the house j for she did not care to venture into
his lordship's presence.

Though it appeared, afterwards, that Mr. Johnson had then received
that wound of which he died, he did not then immediately drop ; he
arose, and was able to walk.

Just then, my Lord Ferrers, as he confessed afterwards, felt a few
momentary touches of compassion : he permitted Mr. Johnson to be led
up stairs to bed, till better assistance could be called ; he suffered
a surgeon to be sent for, nay, the very surgeon that Mr. Johnson himself
had desired ; and Mr. Johnson's children, by his lordship's order, were
acquainted with the accident, and sent for to see him.

Mr. Johnson's daughter was the first person that came ; she met the
noble lord, and the first greeting she had from him was, that he had shot
her father ; and that he had done it on purpose, and deliberately. Mrs.
Clifford, who had been apprized of this accident by the servants, came
not long after ; and, in an hour and a half, or two hours, Mr. Kirkland,
the surgeon, who was from home when the servant was dispatched, and
at a neighbouring village, hastened with the best expedition he could
make, to Stanton. When he came to Stanton he met my lord in the
passage.

Here your lordship will observe, that the noble lord's conduct and
behaviour, from this time to the time that Mr. Johnson was removed to
his own house, seemed all along calculated for his escape ; and that the
only anxiety he expressed was the dread of being seized, and brought to
punishment in case Mr. Johnson should die.

Upon Mr. Kirkland's first appearance, my lord had told him, that
he had shot Mr. Johnson, and that he had done it coolly ; he desired he
might -not be seized till it was known with certainty whether Mr. Johnson
would die or not ; and threatened, that if any person attempted to seize
him, he would shoot them. Mr. Kirkland told him, he would take care
nobody should meddle with him.

Mr. Kirkland was then brought up to Mr. Johnson, who was upon
the bed ; the surgeon examined the wound, and found that the ball had
penetrated a little below the ribs on the left side ; he took an instrument
in his hand, called a director, in order to probe the wound : here my
lord interrupted him, and said, You need not be at that trouble ; pass
your instrument downwards ; I, when I shot off the pistol, directed it
that way ; and Mr. Kirkland found this, upon examination, to be true;
the ball had not passed through the body, but remained lodged in the
cavities of the abdomen.

When my lord found that the ball was in the body, he grew uneasy ;
for he was apprehensive that the ball, if it remained there, might prove

22 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

fatal ; he asked Mr. Kirkland, if it could be extracted j Mr. Kirkland
told him, from what he observed, it would be impracticable to extract
the ball : but to give him better hopes he told him, that many persons
had lived a long while after they had been shot, though the ball had
remained within them.

Presently after this, the surgeon went down stairs to prepare a fomen-
tation, and soon after returned : when he came back into the room, Mr.
Johnson complained of the strangury. This alarmed his lordship again :
he then asked Mr. Kirkland, what would be the consequence, if the
bladder or kidneys were hurt? Mr. Kirkland having laid down his
rule of conduct, wherein his prudence deserves to be commended,
answered, that though the bladder should be wounded, or the kidneys
hurt, there had been many cures performed upon such like wounds.

This made his lordship tolerably easy : he then began to be in better
spirits, which, I am sorry to say, at that time were somewhat heightened
with liquor : for, although he was cool and fresh when he did the fact,
yet the moment it was done, he began to drink, and continued drinking,
at times, till twelve o'clock at night : this liquor, however, only contri-
buted to raise his spirits, without disordering his understanding j for he
appeared to be complete master 0f himself the whole day.

After Mr. Kirkland had given him so much encouragement, they toge-
ther went down to the still room ; and now his lordship verily believing
that Mr. Johnson would recover, he grew less cautious in avowing the
deliberation with which he tlid the fact, and declaring all the circum-
stances that attended it.

And here, because I will not wrong the noble lord, by adding a single
letter to my brief, your lordships shall hear his confession, from thence,
in his own words.

" Kirkland, says he, I believe Johnson is more frightened than hurt ;
my intention was to have shot him dead ; but, finding that he did not
fall at the first shot, I intended to have shot him again, but the pain he
complained of made me forbear j there nature did take place, in opposi-
tion to the resolution I had formed. 1 desire you will take care of him j
for it would be cruel not to give him ease, now I have spared his life.

" When you speak of this afterwards, do not say (though I desire he
may be eased of his pain) that I repented of what I have done : I am not
sorry for it j it was not done without consideration ; I own it was pre-
meditated j I had, some time before, charged a pistol for the purpose,
being determined to kill him, for he is a villain, and deserves death ; but
as he is not dead, I desire you will not suffer my being seized ; for, if he
dies, I will go and surrender myself to the House of Lords • I have
enough to justify the action ; they will not excuse me, but it will satisfy
my own conscience : but be sure you don't go in the morning without
letting me see you, that I may know if he is likely to recover or not ; I
will get up at any time ; at four o'clock in the morning.

" To this very strange and horrid declaration Mr. Kirkland answered,
by promising his lordship, that he would certainly give him the first
intelligence touching Mr. Johnson's condition; and, as it was proper, for
very prudent reasons, as well with respect to himself as Mr. Johnson, to
dissemble with his lordship, he proceeded further, and told him, that he
would give a favourable account of this matter. The noble lord then
asked him, what he would say if he was called upon ; he told him he
would say, that though Johnson was shot, that he was in a fair way

THE ARISTOCRACY. 23

of recovery. His lordship asked Mr. Kirkland, if he would make oath
of that ? He said, yes.

" Mr. Kirkland then went to see Mr. Johnson again, and found him
better j they then went to supper, and, during the time they were at sup-
per, his lordship mentioned several other particulars : he said, he was
astonished, that the bullet should remain in his body; for, says he,
I have made a trial with^this pistol, and it pierced through a board
an inch and a half thick ; I am astonished it did not pass through
his body ; I took good aim, and I held the pistol in this manner ;
and then he shewed Mr. Kirkland the manner of his holding the pistol."

He also declared the grounds, and motives for his killing Johnson 3
that he had been a villain 5 that he was in the interest of his enemies j
that he had joined with those who had injured him, and taken away his
estate, by an act of parliament j that he had colluded with Mr. Curzon
and Mr. Burslem, with respect to the coal contract.

Another thing he mentioned with respect to the farm 5 says he, " I have
long wanted to drive Johnson out of the farm j if he recovers, he will
go back to Cheshire, where he came from." Mr, Kirkland said, no doubt
but this accident would drive him home again.

After they had supped, Mrs. Clifford came into the room, and she pro-
posed, that Mr. Johnson should be removed to the Lount, which is
the name of Mr. Johnson's house, and lies about a mile from Stanton j
his lordship refused to consent to that, not because he thought Mr.
Johnson might be hurt by the removal, but, to use his own words,
because he would have him under his own roof, to plague the villain.

When the supper was over, they returned back to Mr. Johnson, who
was then under the greatest uneasiness ; he was restless, and the com-
plaint of strangury increased : then my lord was alarmed again $ he
enquired of the surgeon what would be the consequence, in case the
guts were shot through ? Mr. Kirkland gave him a favourable answer,
that revived his spirits ; he went out of the room, and invited Mr. Kirk-
land to take a bottle of port j they then drank together, and during that
time, the same, or the like expressions were repeated. I will not trouble
your lordships with them again j but he all along declared, he did not do
it hastily, but coolly and deliberately : that his intention was to have
killed him : and that the reason why he did it at the time was, because
he would not sign a paper of recantation, acknowledging all the inju-
ries he had done his lordship.

They then again returned to Mr. Johnson, after they had drank out
the bottle : whether the liquor was prevalent or not, 1 don't know j your
lordships will observe what followed : his behaviour to the poor man,
though he lay there under the surgeon's hands, was totally changed, and
his resentment grew outrageous ; my lord again attacked him upon the
same charge as before, compelled him to acknowledge before all the
company (of which his daughter was one) that he was a villain j nay,
he was about to drag him out of bed upon the floor, which would hardly
have been prevented, if Mr. Johnson, who was tutored by a wink from
Mr. Kirkland, had not said, I do confess I am a villain : my lord at last
went to bed j but, before he departed, he said with great earnestness to
Mr. Kirkland, may I rely upon you ? Are you sure there is no danger ?
May I go to bed in safety ? Mr. Kirkland said, yes, your lordship may.
When his lordship was gone, poor Johnson begged to be removed to his
own house. Mr, Kirkland wished it as much ; for, besides that he could

24 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

not have that free access to his patient that was necessary, if he was to
remain there, he thought himself in the utmost peril. My lord had
confessed too much, and Mr. Kirkland too little ; so that if Mr. John-
son had died there, no man in Mr. Kirkland's situation would have
wished to have been alone with his lordship, considering the dangerous
conversation that had passed between them.

Mr. Kirkland, therefore, immediately went to the Lount, procured six
or seven armed men, and came back by two o'clock in the morning.
They removed Mr. Johnson, put him into a great chair, and wrapped
him up in blankets, and so conveyed him home. Towards morning
the poor man's symptoms grew worse, and Mr. Kirkland then went
away.

Mr. Johnson lay languishing till seven or eight in the morning,
and then died.

In the mean time Mr. Kirkland had procured a number of armed
men to go down to Stanton, and to seize his lordship. When they came
there, my lord was just out of bed ; he had his garters in his hand, and
was seen passing towards the stable. The horses were all saddled, and
everything got in readiness for his escape.

Mr. Springthorpe advanced towards him j and when his lordship
found he was really to be attacked, he fled back to his house, and there
stood a siege of four or five hours. While he was thus beset, he
appeared at the garret windows, and thinking himself secure in that place,
he began to parley, and asked, what they wanted with him ? They told
him, Mr. Johnson was dead, and that they were come to secure him.
He said, he knew that was false ; for Mr. Johnson was not dead : that
he wished it might be true : that he would not believe it, unless Mr.
Kirkland would declare it : that he would pay no regard to any body
else. He did not think fit to surrender ; but continued in the house, till
he thought he had an opportunity of escaping through the garden. He
was there discovered by one Cutler, a collier, who was a bold man, and
determined to take him : he marched up to him ; and though his lord-
ship was armed with a blunderbuss, two or three pistols, and a dagger,
he submitted to the collier's taking him, without making the least resis-
tance : and the moment he was in custody, he declared he gloried in the
fact ; and again declared, that he intended to kill Johnson. He was
then carried to Mr. Kinsey's house, and remained there till after the
coroner sat upon the body.

I must mention to your lordships, that upon Mr. Hall, a clergyman,
being introduced to him, he told him, he knew his duty as well as he
or any other clergyman : that the fact he had committed was coolly and
deliberately done. So that your lordships see his declarations were con-
sistent and uniform, from the beginning to the end.

I shall neither aggravate nor observe.

These are the circumstances which attended this horrid murder. J
have opened them faithfully from my instructions. The case is rather
stronger than I have made it.

The witnesses are to acquaint your lordships, whether I have opened
the case truly. If the evidence comes out as I have represented it to
your lordships, then your lordships' sentence must be agreeable to law.
The noble Earl at the bar must be found guilty.

If he has any defence, God forbid that he should not have a fair

THE ARISTOCRACY. 25

opportunity of making it. Let him be heard with patience. The pro-
secutors will be as glad as your lordships to find him innocent.

The evidence is to determine ; and upon that evidence we shall leave it.' '

The entire evidence was in accordance with Mr. Attorney's narration,
and therefore little of it need be here given.

Earl Ferrers' own account of the actual murder was reported by the
medical witness, Mr. Thomas Kirkland, a surgeon at Ashby-de-la-Zouch,
who also described the last moments of Johnson, the victim, in the fol-
lowing examination : —

Mr. Attorney. Did any discourse pass between you relating to their
seizure of my lord's person ? — Mr. Kirkland. My lord did desire that I
would take care he was not seized, and I promised him I would.

Did you tell him how you meant to represent it ? — My lord asked me,
what I should say upon the occasion, if I was called upon ? I told his
lordship I should say, that, though Mr. Johnson was shot, yet there was
a great probability of his recovering j and that I thought there was no
necessity of seizing his lordship. His lordship then asked me, if I would
make oath of that before a justice of the peace, if I was called upon ? I
said, Yes.

Where was this ? and about what part of the night did the last con-
versation pass * — It was in the parlour.

What time was it ? Was it an hour before supper ? — I think this was
before supper j but it was repeated before and after supper.

Did my lord, in this discourse, say any thing relating to Mr. Johnson ?
— He told me, that Mr. Johnson had long been a villain to him. He
s;iid, he began his villainy in 1753 ; that he assisted in procuring the act
of parliament ; that he was in the interest of his enemies j that, on Mr.
Johnson's first coming there in the afternoon, he ordered him to settle
an account. He then told him, Johnson, you have been a villain to me j
if you don't sign a paper, confessing all your villainy, I'll shoot you. My
lord told me Johnson would not sign one. Therefore, says he, I bid him
kneel down on his knees to ask my pardon. I said, Johnson, if you have
any thing to say, speak quickly. Then,.said he, 1 fired at him. I know
he did not think I would have shot him j but I was determined to do it.
I was quite cool. I took aim 5 for I always aim with a pistol in this
manner.

Did any thing pass in reference to the farm ? — My lord told me he had
long wanted to drive Johnson out of his farm j and that he imagined,
alter he recovered, he would go into Cheshire, from whence he came,
and give him no more disturbance. He said he had long intended to
shoot him : that the chief reason he did it at this time was, an affair be-
tween Mr. Curzon, Mr. Burslem, and his lordship. But the greatest
part of this discourse was at the time that my lord was full of liquor.

Was he so full of liquor as to be deprived of his understanding ? — I
think not j he seemed to understand very well what he did.

Was he in liquor when you first saw Kim ? — Yes j not much.

Did he continue drinking during the time you saw him ? — He was
drinking porter -} they said it was porter.

Did you go to Mr. Johnson again ? — Yes ; after supper I went up
stairs to Mr. Johnson j nothing material passed ; but my lord enquired
what I thought of Mr. Johnson j and upon my setting things in the light
I thought I should, my lord seemed very well satisfied.

Was any thing said about the bowels or guts ? — My lord asked, if the

26 CURIOUS' TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

bowels were wounded, what would be the consequence ? I said, some
had had wounds in their bowels and recovered.

There was an expression used, that the bullet was lodged in the ab-
domen ; was that your's or my lord's expression ? — It was my expression.

Did you and my lord sit together in the evening? — Yes.

Was any wine brought ? — Yes ; Mrs. Clifford brought a bottle of wine,
and then his lordship again repeated, that he had shot Johnson, and that
he intended it.

Was there any thing passed between you relative to my lord's circum-
stances ? — A little before he went to bed, before 1 went to Mr. Johnson
the last time, my lord said, Kirkland, I know you can set this affair in
such a light, that I shall not be seized if you will j I owe you a bill, you
may have some of your money now, and the rest when you want it j I
told his lordship I did not want money, I should be glad to receive it
when it was most convenient to him.

Did you afterwards see my lord and Mr. Johnson together ? — Yes.

What passed ? — My lord went up to the bedside, and spoke it tempe-
rately ; Johnson, you know you have been a villain to me ; Mr. Johnson
made no answer, but desired my lord to let him alone at that time : my
lord kept calling of him villain j his passion rose, and he began to pull
the bed-clothes, and said, Have you not been a villain? Mr. Johnson
said, My lord, I may have been wrong as well as others : upon this, my
lord run up in a violent passion to the bed-side, I thought he would have
struck him ; but upon Mr. Johnson's declaring he might have been a
villain to his lordship, my lord went to the fire-side.

How came Mr. Johnson to make that answer? — I winked at him, and
he made the answer.

Was Miss Johnson in the room ? — Yes ; my lord went to her, after he
had abused her father, and said, Though he has been a villain to me, I
promise you before Kirkland, who I desire to be a witness, that I will
take care of your family, if you do not prosecute,

Did my lord go out of the room? — Yesj he went down stairs ; he
sent for me, and told me, he was afraid he had made Miss Johnson un-
easy j he desired I would tell her, he would be her friend : we came up
stairs together ; his lordship asked at the top of the stairs, whether I
thought Mr, Johnson would recover : I replied, Yes j he said, then I may
go to bed in safety j he went to bed directly,

What passed after? — The first thing I did I went to Mr. Johnson, who
desired, for God's sake, that I would remove him j while we were talk-
ing, I heard my lord open the door, and call up his pointer : Mr. Johnson
was a good deal alarmed at it, fearing my lord should come again j but
my lord shut the door ; then he again entreated me to remove him.

Was any proposal made to remove him before that ? — Yes j Mrs. Clif-
ford came down before that into the still-room, and said, Cannot Johnson
be removed ? My lord replied, No, he shall not be removed, till he be
either better or dead : and some time after that he said, he was glad he
had him in the house, that he could plague the rascal ; or some such
words.

Why did you propose to remove him ? — I thought it prudent for many
reasons to remove him ; J imagined, Mr. Johnson would die j and if
my lord came and found him dying, his resentment would rise against
me ; besides, Mr. Johnson was in a good deal of apprehension of being
again shot ; I really apprehended he might die through fear, for he was a

THE ARISTOCRACY. 27

man of a very weak constitution ; upon this I went to the Lount and got
a parcel of fellows, and placed Mr. Johnson in an easy chair, and carried
him upon poles to the Lount, where he got without being much fatigued.

Did you apprehend that the moving would be prejudicial to him, con-
sidering the condition he was in ? — It is impossible to say it might not;
but there was much more danger in leaving him at Stanton ; and he ex-
pressed satisfaction on my removing him : when he came there, he de-
sired he might be removed from one room where he was, into another j
for he said, my lord might come and shoot him there, the window was
facing the bed ; I told him, he might make himself easy, I would place
a sentry at each door.

At what time was Mr. Johnson removed ? — I believe about two o'clock
in the morning ; I am not quite certain of the hour.

How long did he live after that ? — He lived, as I was informed, till
about nine ; I did not leave him till seven o'clock.

In what condition was he when you left him ? — Weak and low, and
cold in the extremities.

What was your judgment about him ? — That he would be dead ; he
thought so himself.

What happened after he was dead ? — Nothing more than my examining
the body.

What did you do upon that ? — I examined it the next day when the
coroner's inquest was taken.

Did you give an account of the wound ? — The ball had passed just
under the lowest rib, on the left side, through one of the guts, and
through a bone we call the " os inominatum/' and lodged in the bone
called the " os sacrum."

Do you apprehend that Mr. Johnson died of that wound ? — I do ; I am
clear in it.

A Mr. Springthorpe, examined by Mr. Gould, thus related the seizure
of Lord Ferrers.

Was you present at the time of taking Lord Ferrers ? — Springthorpe.

I was.

What day was it ? — On Saturday morning.

What time in the morning? — I believe it was between ten and eleven
o'clock.

Had you a multitude of people with you ?•— The first part of the time I
had not ; but before he was taken there were a great many.

Was you armed ? — I had a pistol I took from Mr. Burslem's.

Where did you go first ? — I went to see Mr. Johnson; he was my
friend, and I found he was dead. Mr. Burslem desired I would go and
help to take Lord Ferrers : I condescended to do it. When I came to the
hall yard, my lord in a few minutes came ; he seemed to be going to the
stable, with his stockings down, and his garters in his hands ; his lord-
ship seeing me demanded to know what I wanted. I presented my pistol
to his lordship, and I said it was he I wanted, and I would have him ;
he put his hand, whether he was going to put his garters into his
pocket, or to pull out a pistol, I cannot say; but he suddenly run into
the house. I never saw more of him for two hours ; in about two hours
he came to the garret window ; I went under the window ; he called ; I
asked him what he wanted ; he said, How is Johnson ? I said he was
dead ; he said, You are a lying scoundrel, God damn you. I told him he was
dead ; he said, I will not believe it till Kirkland tells me so. I said he

28 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

was dead j he said, Then disperse the people, and I will go and surrender:
let the people in, and let them have some victuals and drink. 1 told him
I did not* come for victuals, but for him, and I would have him. He
went away from the window swearing he would not be taken. Two
hours after that there was a report that he was upon the bowling-green ;
I was at this part of the house : I run there, and, by the time I got there,
I saw two colliers had hold of his lordship. I said, I would take care
nobody should hurt him. I took from a man that had hold of him, a
pistol and a powder-horn j I shot the pistol off, and it made a great im-
pression against the stones. I heard my lord say, he had shot a villain
and a scoundrel, and, clapping his hand upon his bosom, he said, I glory
in his death. That is all I know of the matter.

Lord Ferrers being called upon for his defence, applied for an adjourn-
ment to the following day : to this Lord Mansfield objected, unless the
Earl would open the nature of his defence, or give some reason why he
was not then prepared to go on. This not being done, the Peers returned
to the Chamber of Parliament to debate the question, and on their coming
back into Westminster Hall, the Lord High Steward announced to Lord
Ferrers'that he was forthwith to proceed with his defence.

Lord Ferrers then addressed the Court as follows :—

Earl Ferrers. " My lords, the kind of defence I mentioned to your
lordships before, I really don't know how myself to enter upon ; it is
what my family have considered for me, and they have engaged all the
evidence that are to be examined upon this unhappy occasion, who I
really have not seen j I do not well know what they have to say : 1 should,
therefore, hope your lordships will give me all the assistance that is pos-
sible in their examination.

My lords, I believe that what I have already mentioned to your lord-
ships, as the ground of this defence, has been a family complaint ; and I
have heard that my own family have, of late, endeavoured to prove me
such. The defence I mean is occasional insanity of mindj and I am
convinced, from recollecting within myself, that, at the time of this ac-
tion, I could not know what I was about. I say, my lords, upon reflec-
ting within myself, I am convinced, that, at that time, I could not know
what I was about.

It has been too plainly proved, that, at the time this accident happened,
I was very sober, that I was not disordered with liquor : your lordships
will observe, from the evidence both of Mr. Kirkland and Miss Johnson,
that it plainly appeared that this man never suspected there was any
malice, or that I had any."

The evidence adduced in support of his Lordship's plea of insanity will
be found fully summed up, and commented on, in the reply of the
Solicitor General. The testimony of two witnesses, however, was of
such moment, that it is here given at length. The first of these was the
Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley, who was thus examined by Earl Ferrers.

What relation are you to me ? — Brother.

Do you know any, and which, of the family, that have been afflicted
with lunacy ; if you do, please to mention their names ? — I believe the
prisoner at the bar has that misfortune,

What is your reason for such belief? — I have many reasons for it. The
first is, that I have seen him several times talking to himself, clenching
his fists, grinning, and having several gestures of a madman, without
any seeming cause leading thereto. I have likewise very frequently known

THE ARISTOCRACY. 29

him extremely suspicious of plots and contrivances against him from his
own family; and, when he was desired to give some account what the
plots were that he meant, he could not make any direct answer. — Ano-
ther reason I have for thinking him so is, his falling into violent passion,
without any adequate cause.

Do you believe that, at some times, I have been hurried into violent
fits, so as not to know the distinction between a moral or immoral act ?
— I believe, at those times when my lord has been transported by this
disease of lunacy, that he has not been able to distinguish properly be-
tween moral good and evil.

Has any other of the family, besides myself, been afflicted with lunacy?
— I have heard -fstoptj

Please to inform their lordships, whether, at the time I have been
transported with such violent fits, they have been the effects of drink, and
whether they have happened when I was sober ? — Frequently when my
lord has been sober, much more so when he has been a little inflamed
with liquor.

Do you know of any intention in the family to take out a commission
of lunacy against me ? — I heard it talked of.

How long ago ? — I think I can recollect it was at the time of his lord-
ship's committing the outrage at Lord Westmoreland's house that it was
proposed to be done ; but afterwards they were afraid to go through
with it ; and the reason given was, lest, if the court of judicature should
not be thoroughly satisfied of my lord's lunacy upon inspection, that the
damage would be very great to those that should attempt it.

Why was the family afraid that I should appear in the courts of judi-
cature to be in my senses ? — Because my lord had frequently such long
intervals of reason, that, we imagined, if he, on the inspection, appeared
reasonable, the court would not grant the commission against him.

What damage do you mean that the family was apprehensive of, in case
the court should refuse a commission? — We apprehended my lord would
sue us for scandalum magnatum.

Was the family apprehensive of any other kind of damage ? — I know
of none.

Att. Gen. My lords, I did not intend to have troubled this gentleman ;
but from what he has said, your lordships will permit me to ask him two
or three questions ; I shall do it very tenderly, and with as much pro-
priety as I can. — In giving his account of the noble lord's state of mind,
as far as 1 could collect it, he said, that he had more reasons than one
why he deemed him to be insane.

Attorney General. Mr. Shirley, you said that the first ground was, that
his lordship would, at times, talk to himself, grin, and use certain ges-
tures, proper only to madmen — Now, as to this first mark of insanity,
was this frequently the case of his lordship ? — Very frequently.

Did he, at those times, speak loud, or use any intelligible language to
himself? — He did not.

Did he, at such times, offer to commit any mischief, or betray any
marks of disorder, while in that situation ? — I do not recollect any.

Then, as far as I can understand you, at those times, his behaviour in
those intervals was perfectly innocent. — Yes.

At such times have you ever entered into discourse with him ? — No, I
do not remember.

30 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

Did you never ask him a single question when you have seen him
walking backwards and forwards in the way you mention?—! don't
remember I have.

Did you never hear him speak at such times to other persons ? — Not
whilst he continued in those attitudes.

I don't ask ybu whether he conversed the time that he was mute, but
within a quarter or half an hour ? — I am not certain.

Your next ground for supposing him to be insane was, That he was
accustomed to be transported into passions without any adequate cause,
were those the words ? — Without any seeming cause.

Was not " adequate" the expression you used? — Yes.

I should be glad to know whether you deem every man that is trans-
ported with anger, without an adequate cause, to be a madman ? — I
deem it as a sign of madness in him ; but there were other causes.

I ask you a general question, and I do not expect a particular answer.
Whether you deem a person that is transported with fury without reason,
to be a madman ? — I think a person may be transported to fury without
an adequate cause, that is no madman.

Then please to recollect some particular instance of this frantic passion,
and state it. — I really cannot command my memory so far. I have not
seen my lord these two years, till the time of this unhappy confinement.

Then I am to understand you, that you cannot recollect one particular
instance j Am I or not ? — I cannot recollect any at this time.

Then as to the suspicion of plots without any foundation ; will you
please to enumerate any of those ? — He never himself would give any
particular account of what he suspected, only that he did suspect that
the family was in some combination against him -, and when I have asked
him, What it was that he meant ? he would never give me a direct answer
to that question.

Does that kind of behaviour, as you describe it, denote a man out of
his senses r — I thought so. I was so fully possessed of that opinion,
that I declared to other people long ago, that I thought him a madman.

Please to inform their lordships, whether the unfortunate earl lived
well or ill with his family? — Indeed, he did not live in friendship with his
family.

Were there not disputes on both sides ? — Yes, there were j his younger
brothers and sisters were under the unhappy constraint of suing for their
fortunes.

Then please to inform their lordships, whether, in truth, there was
not a combination in the family against him ? I do not mean a criminal
one. — I am very certain that was not what my lord alluded to.

If you are certain of that, you can inform their lordships what it was
that he alluded to ? — I will give a reason why I am certain it was not
that j because it appeared to be some secret combination : that was a
thing publicly known.

How did you recollect that the combination was secret ? — By my lord's
manner of expressing himself.

Can you recollect the phrase or the words he used ? — I cannot.

In another part of your examination you was asked, whether the earl
could distinguish between good and evil ? You said he could not dis-
tinguish {hem properly. Was he at that time less able to distinguish
properly between good and evil than any other man that is transported
into a violent passion ? — I never saw any man so transported.

THE ARISTOCRACY, 31

Did be express himself in insensible words, so as that you could dis-
cover the state of his mind ; and that it was that of a madman, and not
a man in passion ? — I considered it as madness.

Can you recollect any expression, in any fit of passion that my lord
was in, that might not as well have come from the mouth of any other
passionate man ? — Indeed I cannot.

You recollect an old adage, " Ira furor brevis est :" do you believe
that his was such madness as is there poetically described ? — I believe
that it really proceeded from madness.

Have you ever seen him so transported upon any other occasion than
that of anger? Have you seen any appearance of that kind when he was
cool and calm? — I have seen him break into passions without any seem-
ing cause.

You said you could not remember any instance, when the question was
asked you ; can you now ? — I remember once being at a hunting seat at
Quarendon in Leicestershire, as I chose to avoid the bottle, I went up
stairs to the ladies ; Lady Ferrers, at that time, lived with him ; and,
without any previous quarrel, my lord came up stairs into the room j and
after standing for some time with his back to the fire, he broke out into
the grossest abuse of me, insulting me, and swearing at me ; and I can-
not to this day or hour conceive any reason for it.

Had you never any dispute or quarrel with your brother ? — Not at that
time.

Might not you have had some quarrel a few days before ? — No.

Are you confident of that ? — I am confident.

Had he no suspicion at that time of you interesting yoiirself with re-
spect to my Lady Ferrers ? — There was then no quarrel existing.

Had there never been a quarrel between my lord and my lady ? — I think
not ; it was soon after his marriage.

The other witness was one Elizabeth Williams, who was also thus
examined by the Earl.

How long have you known Lord Ferrers > — A great many years.

Do you know of any distemper that Lord Ferrers is afflicted with, and
what is it ? — He never appeared like any other gentleman.

Wherein did he differ from any other people in general ? — He always
was a-musing and talking to himself. He spit in the looking-glass, tore
the pictures, swearing he would break my bureau open, and would break
all the glasses in my house, and would throttle me if I would not let
him do it.

Had he any particular reason for this conduct ? — None that I ever
saw, but like a delirious man,

Did you keep a public-house ? — Yes.

How near did you live to my lord? — My lord was at my house,
and boarded with me.

Are you the wife of the witness Williams? — Yes.

Where did Lord Ferrers live, at the time he behaved in that odd man-
ner you speak of? — He had lodgings at Muswell-Hill.

How far did you live from him ? — Two miles, to the best of my
knowledge; he frequently used to come; I have made him coffee and
sent up a dish, he always drank it out of the spout, which surprised me,
that I thought him delirious.

How long ago is that ? — I believe it is about twelve months ago, to
the best of my knowledge.

32 CURIOUS TEIALS CONNECTED WITH

Have you often seen Lord Ferrers behave in that manner ?— I never
saw him behave like any other gentleman in my life.

Was the coffee hot when he drank it out of the spout? — Hot. He
always went about the town like a madman, throttled me, and threw me
down in the yard, one day when he took the horse away.

Did you think Lord Ferrers a madman ? — I know he was by all
appearance.

Was he generally thought so by other people ? — By all the whole
town.

A Lord. When he threatened to break open your bureau, and to use
you ill if you did not let him do it, was he in liquor ? — El. Williams.
Sober as I am now.

A Lord. Did you ever, upon any occasion when he committed these
outrages, observe that he had been drinking ? — El. Williams. Never ;
he never drank in the morning but a little tea, or coffee, or some broth.

Earl Ferrers. Have you ever seen me commit any other acts of
outrage besides those you have mentioned ? — A great many more that
are worse.

Name them. — Swearing, cursing, and damning us ; and wishing us all
at hell, and himself at hell j and threatened to break the glasses j
and talked to himself for hours together in bed.

Was he drunk or sober at those times ? — Very rarely j but he seemed
more to be disturbed in his mind.

Mention the circumstance about my coming for the mare. — My lord
came for the mare, it was at church-time, and brought his servants, and
a hammer in his hand, and guns, with a tuck in his hand, and broke the
stable door open by violence of arms, and knocked me down with his
arm, and run the tuck into my husband, fetched the blood, I was obliged to
have a surgeon to attend him -, and took the mare away by force of arms j
and if any body came to hinder him, he said he would blow their brains
out. He always had pistols nobody knew of. I never saw any gentle-
man that came to my house before, that had those things about them.
I used to like to take them out of his bed-chamber, but was afraid to
touch them, for fear of what he should do to me himself, by seeing his
mind so disturbed.

Were those outrages committed when he was drunk or sober? —
Sober for the general ; and when he took the mare away, as sober as he
is now.

Earl of Hardwicke. Inform their lordships, whether, before my lord
came in this manner to get the mare out of the stable, he had before
sent any servant to demand the mare, and had been refused ? — Williams.
Yes, he had, the boy was gone to church. We always kept it under
lock, because there was more of his lordship's horses ; and nobody was
to go into the stable but his lordship's ostler.

At the conclusion of the evidence of insanity, the Earl put in a paper
which was read by the clerk, and ran as follows : —

My lords : It is my misfortune to be accused of a crime of the most
horrid nature. My defence is, in general, that I am Not Guilty : the
fact of Homicide is proved against me by witnesses, who, for aught I
can say, to the contrary, speak truly.

But if I know myself at this time, I can truly affirm, I was ever

THE ARISTOCRACY. 33

incapable of it, knowingly : if I have done and said what has been
alleged, I must have been deprived of my senses.

I have been driven to the miserable necessity of proving my own
want of understanding; and *im told, the law will not allow me
the assistance of counsel in this nase, in which, of all others, I should
think it most wanted.

The more I stand in need of assistance, the greater reason I have to
hope for it from your lordships.

Witnesses have been called to prove my insanity — to prove an unhappy
disorder of mind, and which I am grieved to be under the necessity of
exposing.

If they have not directly proved me so insane as not to know the
difference between a moral and immoral action, they have at least proved
that I was liable to be driven and hurried into that unhappy condition
upon very slight occasions.

Your lordships will consider whether my passion, rage, madness (or
whatever it may be called) was the effect of a weak or distempered
mind, or whether it arose from my own wickedness, or inattention
to my duty.

If I could have controlled my rage, I am answerable for the conse-
quences of it. But if I could not, and if it was the mere effect of a
distempered brain, I am not answerable for the consequences.

My lords, I mention these things as hints — I need not, indeed I
cannot, enlarge upon this subject : your lordships will consider all cir-
cumstances, and I am sure you will do me justice.

If it be but a matter of doubt, your lordships will run the hazard
of doing me injustice, if you find me guilty.

My lords, if my insanity had been of my own seeking, as the sudden
effect of drunkenness, I should be without excuse. But it is proved, by
witnesses for the crown, that I was not in liquor.

Mr. Kirkland, who drank and conversed with me, in order to betray
me, (Mr. Attorney may commend his caution, but not his honesty,) re-
presents me the most irrational of all madmen, at the time of my doing
a deed which I reflect upon with the utmost abhorrence.

The Counsel for the Crown will put your lordships in mind of every
circumstance against me ; I must require of your lordships' justice, to
recollect every circumstance on the other side.

My life is in your hands, and I have every thing to hope, as my
conscience does not condemn me of the crime I stand accused of ; for I
had no preconceived malice ; and was hurried into the perpetration
of this fatal deed by the fury of a disordered imagination.

To think of this, my lords, is an affliction, which can be aggravated
only by the necessity of making it my defence.

May God Almighty direct your judgments, and correct my own !

Earl Ferrers. My lords, I will mention one circumstance, which I did
speak of yesterday j it was said, that I knew of a lease Johnson had,
but it has never been proved j therefore, I imagine, that what I asserted,
that I did not know of it, must be admitted as truth.

L. H. S. Earl Ferrers, Hath your lordship any thing further to offer ?

Earl Ferrers. No.

The Solicitor General, the Hon. Charles Yorke, afterwards Lord
Chancellor, made a long and elaborate reply on the part of the Crown.
VOL. iv. NO. xv. D

34 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

From it is here extracted the portion which bore upon the prisoner's de-
fence of insanity.

Sol. Gen. " My lords, what is the evidence produced by the noble lord ?
In the first place, there is none which applies to the time of committing
the fact. His sobriety is admitted, and drunkenness would not excuse ;
and even supposing it had appeared to your lordships, that the noble
prisoner was sometimes, by fits and starts, under a degree of lunacy or
temporary insanity j yet if he was of sound mind at that hour, he is a
person within all the rules and distinctions which Lord Hale explain?.
But, my lords, in the next place, I must observe, that no general
evidence has been offered, which proves his lunacy or insanity at
any time ; for his own witnesses fail in their endeavours to shew it.
This appears from their manner of expressing themselves in their origi-
nal examination j but still more in the answers, which they gave to the
questions asked upon the cross-examination.

The two first witnesses called were, Mr. Benefold, and Mr. Goostrey.
They describe the insanity of the noble lord at the bar to consist of
flights. They say, that he would swear; would talk to himself; that
he would use strange gestures ; that he had friends, and suspected them ;
that he was of a positive temper, and difficult to be dissuaded from any
opinion or resolution which he had once formed. But Mr. Bennefold,
upon the cross-examination, admitted, that he never knew of any act of
wildness done by his lordship, nor any physician sent for, to take care of
him in that respect. He said, upon the whole, that he thought Lord
Ferrers had better parts and understanding than ordinary men. Mr.
Goostrey told your lordships, upon the cross-examination, that he
had done business several years for Lord Ferrers; that he had advised
and prepared deeds for his lordship to execute ; that he had assisted in
suffering a recovery to bar the entail of the estate ; and admitted his
sense and capacity in general, but inferred insanity from positive-
ness of temper and opinion. However, in answer to a question proposed
by one of your lordships, he said, that he thought Lord Ferrers capable
of distinguishing between moral and immoral actions.

Several other witnesses have been called to-day. I will first mention
Mr. Clarges. He describes similar circumstances with Mr. Bennefold
and Mr. Goostrey, from which he collects the insanity of the noble
prisoner. He said, that he had observed great oddities in my lord,
during his minority, but no defect of understanding. He could not
specify particular instances ; and added, that his lordship was jealous
and suspicious : but the witness never saw him in such a situation,
as not to be capable of distinguishing between good and evil, and not to
know, that murder was a great crime.

My lords, this account of the state of the noble prisoner's mind
is consistent, not only with a considerable degree of understanding, but
with the highest degree of it. If the law were to receive such excuses,
it would put a sword into the hand of every savage and licentious man,
to disturb private life, and public order.

My lords, there was another witness of a different and a much lower
sort than those whom I have named ; I mean Elizabeth Williams. She
was the only person who said, that the noble Earl was always mad.
When she came to explain the instances from which bhe drew that con-
clusion, the principal one insisted upon was ridiculous ; the anger which
he shewed against a servant, who had neglected to take care of a

THE ARISTOCRACY. Si)

favourite mare, intrusted to his management. This was a vivacity
so natural, that if it be deemed a symptom of madness, few are free
from it j and I doubt the inference will go far in cases of common life.

The two next witnesses, whom I will mention, are the brothers of the
noble Earl, My lords, I own I felt for them. It gave me pain to
see them, in a cause which touches a brother's life, brought to the
bar as witnesses, to mitigate the consequences of one misfortune,
by endeavouring to prove another of the most tender and affecting
nature ; and if they had spoke stronger to matters of conjecture, opinion,
and belief, for my part, I could easily have excused them.

My lords, they both spoke vviih caution, and as men of honour ; but
one of them was the only witness of weight, who expressed a belief,
that, at particular times, the noble lord might not be able to distinguish
between moral good and evil. I did not observe, that he spoke of any
instance within his own recollection. The circumstances, from which
these gentlemen inferred insanity, were for the most part of the same
kind with those which came from the mouths of the other witnesses.
They did not carry the marks of it in the least degree beyond that
evidence. And Mr. Walter Shirley admitted, that the noble lord at the
bar had long intervals of reason. I endeavour to repeat the expression,
and I think it was so. Mr. Robert Shirley told your lordships, that
he had not seen the noble prisoner for four years past ; that the last
time of seeing Lord Ferrers was, at Burton upon Trent. He mentioned
the carrying of pistols, and a large case knife, at that time. I under-
stood him to say, that the noble lord generally did so ; the witness had
seen it only once ; but from that circumstance he argued insanity.
Your lordships will judge, whether this practice might not be owing to
jealousy and violence of temper, as well as to lunacy and madness.
The witness added, that he had written formerly to his brother Captain
Washington Shirley, about taking out a commission of lunacy against
Lord Ferrers ; but I could not find, that any measures were taken in
consequence of that opinion given by the witness, nor did he himself
ever take any steps towards it, nor any branch of his family.

The last witness called, on behalf of the noble prisoner, was Doctor
Monro. He was brought here to describe, what symptoms he considers
as marks of lunacy or insanity. He said, that there were many; and on
being asked particularly, as to the several symptoms suggested in this
cause, Doctor Monro was led to speak principally of three marks of
lunacy. The first was common fury, not caused by liquor, but raised by
it. Surely this circumstance will not infer insanity. The next was,
jealousy and suspicion, with causeless quarrelling. Do not many, who
are not lunatics, suspect or quarrel without cause, and become dangerous
to their neighbours? The third was, carrying arms; which (he said)
though less usual, might be a mark of lunacy. And it is equally true,
that such behaviour may prove, in many cases, a bad heart and vicious
mind, as well as lunacy. My lords, the general observation, which
occurs upon Dr. Monro's evidence, is this ; that he did not describe any
of those things^ as absolute marks of lunacy, so as to denote every man
a lunatic, who was subject to them. Indeed he could not have said it,
consistently with common sense arid experience.

This was the import of the evidence of the noble prisoner No wit-
nesses were offered, on the part of the King, in reply to that evidence,

36 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

And, my lords, the reason why they were not offered was, because the
counsel who attended your lordships for the King, choose to submit it to
your opinions, whether the evidence produced for the prisoner does not
tend to strengthen, rather than weaken, that proof of capacity, which
arises out of all circumstances urged, in support of the charge ? From
those circumstances, I have already shewn, that the noble prisoner was
conscious of what he did, at the time of the offence committed j that he
weighed the motives j that he acted with deliberation , that he knew
the consequences.

I will only take notice of one thing more. Your lordships have
attended with great patience, and the most impartial regard to justice,
to all the evidence, and every observation, which has been laid before
you. You have seen the noble prisoner, for two days at your bar
(though labouring under the weight of this charge), cross-examining the
witnesses for the King, and examining his own in a manner so pertinent,
as cannot be imputed merely to the hints and advice of those agents and
counsel, with which you have indulged him. I am persuaded, from the
appearance and conduct of the noble prisoner, that if the fact itself
would have admitted doubts, and probable arguments, to repel the force
of any one material circumstance, your lordships would have heard him
press those arguments, with sense and sagacity.

But, my lords, the truth is, that the fact tried this day stands without
alleviation. There is not a colour for the defence, unless it arises from
the enormity of the crime, aggravated by the manner of committing it ;
an old, faithful servant of himself and his family, murdered in cold blood,
whilst he was performing, by express orders, an act of dutiful attendance
upon his master ; murdered in the most deliberate and wilful manner,
destructive of all confidence in human society. My lords, in some sense,
every crime proceeds from insanity. All cruelty, all brutality, all
revenge, all injustice, is insanity. There were philosophers, in ancient
times, who held this opinion, as a strict maxim of their sect ; and,
my lords, the opinion is right in philosophy, but dangerous in judicature.
It may have a useful and a noble influence, to regulate the conduct
of men ; to controul their impotent passions ; to teach them, that
virtue is the perfection of reason, as reason itself is the perfection
of human nature; but not to extenuate crimes, nor to excuse those
punishments, which the law adjudges to be their due.

My lords, the necessity of his Majesty's justice; the necessity of
public example, called for this prosecution ; and the effect of the whole
evidence is submitted to the weight and wisdom of your judgment/'

The peers unanimously found Lord Ferrers guilty, and on the 18th
April, the third day of the trial, the Earl was brought up for judgment.
His lordship being called upon to say why sentence of death should not
pass, thus addressed the Court through the clerk.

" My lords, I must acknowledge myself infinitely obliged for the fair and
candid trial your lordships have indulged me with.

I am extremely sorry that I have troubled your lordships with a defence
that I was always much averse to, and has given me the greatest un-
easiness ; but was prevailed on by my family to attempt it, as it was
what they themselves were persuaded of the truth of; and had proposed
to prove me under the unhappy circumstances that have been ineffec-
tually represented to your lordships.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 37

This defence has put me off from what I proposed, and what perhaps
might have taken off the malignity of the accusation ; but, as there has
been no proof made to your lordships, can only be deemed at this time
my own assertion j but that I must leave to your lordships.

My lords, I have been informed of this intention of the family before ;
and your lordships, I hope, will be so good to consider, the agony of mind
a man must be under, when his liberty and property are both attacked :
my lords, under these unhappy circumstances, though the plea I have
attempted was not sufficient to acquit me to your lordships, according to
the laws of this country j yet I hope your lordships will think, that ma-
lice, represented by the counsel for the crown, could not subsist ; as I
was so unhappy as to have no person present at the time of the fatal
accident, it was impossible for me to shew your lordships, that I was not
at that instant possessed of my reason.

As the circumstances of my case are fresh in your lordships' memories,
I hope your lordships will, in compassion to my infirmities, be kind
enough to recommend me to his majesty's clemency.

My lords, as I am uncertain whether my unhappy case is within the
late act of parliament, if your lordships should be of opinion that it is, I
humbly hope the power of respiting the execution will be extended in
my favour, that I may have an opportunity of preparing myself for the
great event, and that my friends may be permitted to have access to me.

If any thing I have offered should be thought improper, I hope your
lordships will impute it to the great distress I am under at this juncture."

Lord High Steward. Has your lordship any thing else to offer ? — Earl
Ferrers. No.

Proclamation was then made for silence.

Lord High Steward. " Lawrence Earl Ferrers ; His majesty, from his
royal and equal regard to justice, and his steady attention to our consti-
tution, (which hath endeared him in a wonderful manner to the universal
duty and affection of his subjects) hath commanded this inquiry to be
made, upon the blood of a very ordinary subject, against your lordship,
a peer of this realm : your lordship hath been arraigned ; hath pleaded,
and put yourself on your peers ; and they (whose judicature is founded
and subsists in wisdom, honour, and justice) have unanimously found
your lordship guilty of the felony and murder charged in the indictment.

It is usual, my lord, for courts of justice, before they pronounce the
dreadful sentence pronounced by the law, to open to the prisoner the
nature of the crime of which he is convicted ; not in order to aggravate
or afflict, but to awaken the mind to a due attention to, and consideration
of, the unhappy situation into which he hath brought himself.

My lord, the crime of which your lordship is found guilty, murder, is
incapable of aggravation j and it is impossible, but that, during your lord-
ship's long confinement, you must have reflected upon it, represented to
your mind in the deepest shades, and with all its train of dismal and de-
testable consequences.

As your lordship hath received no benefit, so you can derive no con-
solation from that refuge you seemed almost ashamed to take, under a
pretended insanity ; since it hath appeared to us all, from your cross-
examination of the king's witnesses, that you recollected the minutest
circumstances of facts and conversations, to which you and the witnesses
only could be privy, with the exactness of a memory more than ordinary

38 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

sound ; it is therefore as unnecessary as it would be painful to me, to
dwell longer on a subject so black and dreadful.

It is with much more satisfaction, that I can remind your lordship,
that though, from the present tribunal, before which you now stand, you
can receive nothing but strict and equal justice ; yet you are soon to
appear before an Almighty Judge, whose unfathomable wisdom is able,
by means incomprehensible to our narrow capacities, to reconcile justice
with mercy ; but your lordship's education must have informed you, and
you are now to remember, such beneficence is only to be obtained by
deep contrition, sound, unfeigned, and substantial repentance.

Confined strictly, as your lordship must be, for the very short re-
mainder of your life, according to the provision of the late act $ yet, from
the wisdom of the legislature, which, to prevent as much as possible,
this heinous and horrid offence of murder, hath added infamy to death -,
you will be still, if you please, entitled to converse and communicate
with the ablest divines of the Protestant church, to whose pious care and
consolation, in fervent prayer and devotion, I most cordially recommend
your lordship.

Nothing remains for me, but to pronounce the dreadful sentence of
the law ; and the judgment of the law is, and this high court doth award,

That you, Lawrence Earl Ferrers, return to the prison of the Tower,
from whence you came ; from thence you must be led to the place of
execution, on Monday next, being the 21st day of this instant April j and
when you come there, you must be hanged by the neck till you are dead,
and your body must be dissected and anatomized.

And God Almighty be merciful to your soul !"

The prisoner was removed from the bar by the Lieutenant of the Tower.
The commission of the High Steward was then dissolved, and the Court
adjourned.

The following account of the execution of Earl Ferrers is to be found
attached to most reports extant, of his lordship's trial.

The Sheriffs, on Monday, the 5th day of May, 1761, being attended
by their under- sheriffs, and other proper officers, went to the outward
gate of the Tower of London, and at nine o'clock in the morning sent
notice to the Lieutenant that they were there, ready to receive the body
of Lawrence Earl Ferrers, Viscount Tamwortb, pursuant to the King's
writ in that behalf.

His lordship being informed of it, sent a message to the sheriffs,
requesting their permission that he might go in his own landau, which
was waiting for him at the Tower, instead of the mourning- coach
which had been provided by his friends ; which request being granted,
his lordship, attended by the Reverend Mr. Humphreys, the chaplain of
the Tower, entered into his landau, drawn by six horses, and was
conducted in it, by the officers of the Tower, to the outward gate, and
there delivered into the custody of the sheriffs, upon their giving
the following' receipt :

'% Tower-Hill, 5th May, 1760.

" Received then of Charles Rainsford, Esq., Deputy- Lieutenant of the
Tower of London, the body of the within-named Lawrence Earl Ferrers,
Viscount Tamworth, delivered to us in obedience of the King's writ, of
which the within is a tpuc copy. — GEO. ERRINGTON, PAUL VAILLANT,
Sheriffs of London and Sheriff of Middlesex."

THE ARISTOCRACY. 39

Mr. Sheriff Vaillant accompanied his lordship in the landau from the
Tower gate to the place of execution j and, upon his entrance into it,
addressing himself to his lordship, he told him, That it gave him
the highest concern to wait upon him upon so melancholy an occasion,
but he would do everything in his power to render his situation as easy
as possible j and hoped that, whatever he did, his lordship would impute
to the necessary discharge of his duty. — To which his lordship answered,
Sir, I am very much obliged to you, I take it very kindly that you are
pleased to accompany me. — His lordship being dressed in a suit of light
clothes, embroidered with silver, said, You may, perhaps, Sir, think
it strange to see me in this dress, but I have my particular reasons for it.

The civil and military powers attended the sheriffs from thence to the
place of execution, and the procession was as follows : —

First, a very large body of the constables for the county of Middle-
sex (the greatest probably that ever had been assembled together on any
occasion), preceded by one of the high-constables.

Then a party of horse-grenadiers, and a party of foot j

Then Mr. Sheriff Errington in his chariot, accompanied therein by his
under-sheriff Mr. Jackson j

Then followed the landau, escorted by two other of horse-grenadiers
and foot ;

Then Mr. Sheriff Vaillant's chariot, in which was his under-sheriff Mr.
Nicolls ;

Then a mourning coach and six ;

And, lastly, a hearse and six, which was provided for the conveyance
of his lordship's corpse from the place of execution to Surgeons-Hall.

The procession was conducted with the utmost solemnity ; but moved
so very slow, that it did not reach the place of execution till a quarter before
twelve, so that his lordship was two hours and three quarters in the landau ;
during the whole of which time he appeared to be perfectly easy and
composed, and his decent deportment seemed greatly to affect the minds
of all who beheld him ; insomuch that although his lordship thus passed
many hundred thousand spectators, yet so respectful was the behaviour
of all towards him, that not the least affront or indignity was offered to
him by any one ; but, on the contrary, many persons saluted him with
their prayers for his salvation.

His lordship asked the sheriff, if he had ever seen so great a concourse
of people before ? and upon his answering that he had not; I suppose,
said his lordship, it is, because they never saw a lord hanged before. He
said, that he had wrote to the king, to beg that he might suffer where
his ancestor the Earl of Essex had suffered j and that he was in the
greater hopes of obtaining the favour, as he had the honour of quartering
part of the same arms, and of being allied to his majesty, and that he
thought it was hard that he must die at the place appointed for the exe-
cution of common felons. But whatever his lordship's thoughts were
upon that account, those considerations will for ever throw an additional
lustre on his majesty's impartiality and justice.

Mr. Humphries the chaplain, who, it seems, had not attended his lord-
ship till this morning, took occasion to observe, that the world would
naturally be very inquisitive concerning the religion his lordship pro-
fessed -, and asked him, If he chose to say any thing upon that subject ?
To which his lordship answered, That, he did not think himself at all ac-

40 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

countable to the world for his sentiments on religion ; but that he had
always believed in, and adored one God, the maker of all things ; that
whatever his notions were, he had never propagated them, or endeavoured
to gain any person over to his persuasion j that all countries and nations
had a form of religion by which the people were governed, and that
whoever disturbed them in it, he looked upon him as an enemy to society ;
but that, if he himself was wrong in his way of thinking, he was very
sorry for it. That he very much blamed my Lord Bolingbroke, for per-
mitting his sentiments on religion to be published to the world. That
the many sects and disputes which happen about religion, have almost
turned morality out of doors. That he could never believe what some
sectaries teach, that faith alone will save mankind ; so that if a man,
just before he dies, should say only, I believe, that that alone will save
him ; " Shew me thy faith." — Here his lordship stopped ; but by which
quotation he plainly meant, according to the holy writer, (St. James,
chap. ii. v. 18.) whose words they are, that faith without works is a dead
faith.

Concerning the unfortunate and much-to-be-lamented Mr. Johnson,
whose death occasioned the trouble this day, his lordship declared, That
he was under particular circumstances j that he had met with so many
crosses and vexations he scarce knew what he did ; and most solemnly
protested, that he had not the least malice towards him.

The slowness of the procession made this journey appear so very tedi-
ous to his lordship, that he often expressed his desire of being got to the
end of it, saying, that the apparatus of death, and the passing through
such crowds of people, were ten times worse than death itself ; but upon
the sheriff's taking notice to his lordship, that he was glad to see that he
supported himself so well, his lordship replied, I thank you, Sir, I hope I
shall continue so to the last.

When his lordship had got to that part of Holborn which is near Drury-
lane, he said, he was thirsty, and should be glad of a glass of wine and
water j but upon the sheriff's remonstrating to him, that a stop for that
purpose would necessarily draw a greater crowd about him, which might
possibly disturb and incommode him, yet if his lordship still desired it, it
should be done ; he most readily answered, — That's true, I say no more,
let us by no means stop.

When they approached near the place of execution, his lordship told
the sheriff, That there was a person waiting in a coach near there, for
whom he had a very sincere regard, and of whom he should be glad to
take his leave before he died j to which the sheriff answered, That if his
lordship insisted upon it, it should be so ; but that he wished his lord-
ship, for his own sake, would decline it, lest the sight of a person, for
whom he had such a regard, should unman him, and disarm him of the forti-
tude he possessed. — To which his lordship, without the least hesitation,
replied, Sir, if you think I am wrong, I submit ; and upon the sheriff's
telling his lordship, that if he had any thing to deliver to that person, or
any one else, he would faithfully do it ; his lordship thereupon delivered
to the sheriff a pocket-book, in which was a bank-note, and a ring, and a
purse with some guineas, in order to be delivered to that person, which
was done accordingly.

The landau being now advanced to the place of execution, his lordship
alighted from it, and ascended upon the scaffold, which was covered with

THE ARISTOCRACY. 41

black baize, with the same composure and fortitude of mind he had en-
joyed from the time he left the Tower j where, after a short stay, Mr.
Humphries asked his lordship, if he chose to say prayers ? which he de-
clined j but upon his asking him. If he did not choose to join with him
in the Lord's Prayer ? he readily answered, He would, for he always
thought it a very fine prayer ; upon which they knelt down together
upon two cushions, covered with black baize, and his lordship with an
audible voice very devoutly repeated the Lord's Prayer, and afterwards,
with great energy, the following ejaculation, O God, forgive me all my
errors, — pardon all my sins.

His lordship then rising, took his leave of the sheriffs and the chaplain j
and after thanking them for their many civilities, he presented his watch
to Mr. Sheriff Vaillant, which he desired his acceptance of , and signified
his desire, that his body might be buried at Breden or Stanton, in
Leicestershire.

His lordship then called for the executioner, who immediately came to
him, and asked him forgiveness ; upon which his lordship said, I freely
forgive you, as I do all mankind, and hope myself to be forgiven.— He
then intended to give the executioner five guineas, but, by mistake,
giving it into the hands of the executioner's assistant, an unseasonable
dispute ensued between those unthinking wretches, which Mr. Sheriff
Vaillant instantly silenced.

The executioner then proceeded to do his duty, to which his lordship,
with great resignation, submitted. — His neckcloth being taken off, a
white cap, which his lordship had brought in his pocket, being put upon
his head, his arms secured by a black sash from incommoding himself,
and the cord put round his neck, he advanced by three steps upon an
elevation in the middle of the scaffold, where part of the floor had been
raised about eighteen inches higher than the rest ; and standing under
the cross-beam which went over it, covered with black baize, he asked
the executioner, Am I right ? — Then the cap was drawn over his face :
and then, upon a signal given by the sheriff (for his lordship, upon being
before asked, declined to give one himself) that part upon which he
stood, instantly sunk down from beneath his feet, and left him entirely
suspended ; but not having sunk down so low as was designed, it was
immediately pressed down, and levelled with the rest of the floor.

Fora few seconds his lordship made some struggles against the attacks
of death, but was soon eased of all pain by the pressure of the execu-
tioner.

The time from his lordship's ascending upon the scaffold, until his
execution, was about eight minutes ; during which his countenance did
not change, nor his tongue falter : — The prospect of death did not at all
shake the composure of his mind.

Whatever were his lordship's failings, his behaviour in these his last
moments, which created a most awful and respectful silence amidst the
numberless spectators, cannot but make a sensible impression upon every
human breast.

The accustomed time of one hour being past, the coffin was raised up,
with the greater decency to receive the body, and being deposited in the
hearse, was conveyed by the sheriffs, with the same procession, to Sur-
geons-Hall, to undergo the remainder of the sentence (viz. dissection). —
Which being done, the body was on Thursday evening, the 8th of May,
delivered to his friends for interment.

42 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY.

He was privately interred at St. Pancras near London, in a grave dug
twelve or fourteen feet deep, under the belfry.

Pursuant to a distinction in law, peculiarly fine, the Earldom of Ferrers,
was not forfeited by the attainder for felony, but passed to the convicted
lord's next brother, Vice Admiral, the Hon. Washington Shirley, who
consequently became the fifth Earl : his nephew Washington, the eighth
Earl, was the grandfather, and immediate predecessor of the nobleman
who now enjoys the title. The reason for the non-forfeiture of the Earl-
dom of Ferrers lay in the difference between a dignity descendible to
heirs general, and one that is (as it was) entailed j the former, it seems,
being absolutely forfeited by the attainder of felony of the person pos-
sessed of such dignity, while the entailed honour is only forfeited during
the lifetime of the offender.

During the interval between sentence, and execution, Earl Ferrers
made a will, by which he left £1300 to the children of Johnson whom
he had murdered, £1000 to each of his own four natural daughters, and
£60 a-year to Mrs. Clifford, their mother, who it will be remembered is
mentioned in the course of the trial as residing with the Earl at the time
of his offence. This will, however, being made after his conviction, was
not valid, yet the same provision was allowed to the parties by the un-
fortunate nobleman's successor.

The following verse is said to have been found in Earl Ferrers' apart-
ment in the Tower, after he had quitted it for his last fatal journey.

In doubt I liv'd, in doubt I die,

Yet stand prepar'd, the vast abyss to try,

And undismayed expect eternity.

A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY.

BY AN IRISH LADY.

IN an old mansion on that part of the beautiful peninsula of Mucruss, where
the land rises gently from the lakes to the horizon of distant mountains,
an old gentleman resided with his orphan niece ; he had passed the greater
part of his life in the army, and had seen much foreign service. Many years
separation from his country had not weakened his attachments to the land
of his birth ; he found that land poor, and beautiful as when he left it, and
its lakes as fresh, and fields as green ; but the loved companions of those
early haunts, he found them not. The spoiler death had claimed them in
his absence, and left him on his return a mourning stranger in his own
country. Sorrow and gloom hung over his spirits, until his attention was
directed by the clergyman of the parish to his orphan niece, the only child
of his favourite sister. This young lady had been placed, on the death of
her parents, in a neighbouring convent, where she remained until her uncle
took her to his lonely home and heart, where her presence soon shed such
lights on both, as made the old man young again.

To the admirers of the grand and picturesque in Nature, the
Lakes of Killarney present a combination of all that is sublime and beauti-
ful. Magnificent mountains encircle them, some of which are bare and
rocky, while others are clothed in wood; numerous islands float on the
waters — islands lovely in eternal verdure, where the sweet-scented arbutus,
and shining holly cluster round hallowed ruins of antiquity, shading their
fallen greatness, and embalming their relics in fragrant perfume. The
tourist, the poet, and the painter, become enthusiasts amidst those magic
scenes. It is not therefore strange that those who have been familiar with
them from childhood, should love them with a proud attachment. Such
was the case with Captain Fitzallan and his fair niece Rose O'Brien.
Rose was one of those bright beings who seem formed for so pure and lofty
a region, where Nature presides in all her loveliness amidst her own bold
and beauteous work.

The Captain enjoyed many amusements in his rural retirement, as the
lakes possess a variety of excellent fish, and the mountains and woods
abound with game. He was a good sportsman, and with his rod or gun,
he never knew a weary moment ; Rose bestowed social refinements on his
domestic hours. She was as happy as beautiful, and lived unfettered by
care or sorrow. Her young heart was as free as the mountain breeze,
which floated round her from infancy. She shared her uncle's enthusiasm
for the grand and sublime scenery which surrounded them, and was his con-
stant companion on the lakes and mountains. Every returning month of
June, her birthday was celebrated by a rural fete on the beautiful mountain
of Glena&, a favourite spot with both, for it was covered with the richest
moss, shadowed by woods of oak, and ash, and planted by Nature's own
cunning hand, with the loveliest shrubs, forming in truth a Paradise of
tranquil beauty and repose. The old man loved to call his child the Rose
of Glenaa, and she was so designated by his friends and household.
Amongst the many travellers who visited the lakes in the autumn of 1 8 — ,

44 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNBr.

were Edmund Beaumont and his tutor ; the former was the youngest son of
an aristocratic and wealthy English family, and the best beloved child of a
doting mother. His tutor, though many years his senior, (for Edmund had
only completed his twentieth year,) appeared more in the character of a
companion, than of one in authority ; he certainly interfered but little with
the amusements or wishes of his young charge, who not a little romantic
and enthusiastic, often left his friend absorbed in his books, and stole away
to enjoy the lovely scenery with which he was so enchanted, that he left no
spot, however difficult of access, unexplored.

On one of those sweet mellow days in September, when the varied tints of
autumn lend additional beauty to the wooded mountains, Edmund was
early on the lakes fishing. After much successful sport, he steered for
O' Sullivan's cascade, in order to see it to greater advantage after the heavy
rains of the two preceding days. The fall was magnificent; but not satisfied
with viewing it in the ordinary way, he determined to ascend the rocks and
look down on it from above. This fall is situated in a romantic glen between
the mountains of Glenaa and Toomish. Edmund had just reached the top,
when two more visitors approached, one of them an old gentleman, with
a lovely girl leaning on his. arm. They both stood enraptured, gazing on
the cataract, as it fell with deafening sound down the precipice, dashing its
white foam from rock to rock, until it reached the basin below, where it
seemed boiling in angry contact with the large granite stones which vainly
opposed its passage; The view was one of a grand and sublime character.
As additional figures to this landscape, two or three wild looking peasant
girls, barefooted, dark-haired, of sunburnt hue, were gathering nuts from
the surrounding wood. Our fab: heroine Rose, — "the Rose of Glenaa" (for the
new visitors were her uncle, and herself) — formed not the least beauti-
ful object in the wild scenery. As she stood enraptured, an object caught
her attention on one of the rocks above the cataract ; it soon became evident
to her, that a man was in the act of descending, holding by branches of
trees and low growing shrubs ; it was a perilous undertaking, and she
scarcely breathed, watching bis movements ; he came, after overcoming many
difficulties, within ten feet of the ground ; the descent here was still more
precarious, owing to the rocks and stones, rendered slippery from the spray
of the waters ; on one of those his feet gave way, and, the branches by which
he held yielding to his weight, he fell with a heavy splash into the roaring
torrents. The young man with the instinct of self-preservation, grasped a
shelving rock to which he clung, but the force of the water was so great,
that it was evident he could not long remain thus suspended. Rose, who had
been observing him with deep interest sprang forward in a moment, and
taking an arm of one of the nut-girls, made her hold by some shrubs, while
she took her other hand, then lightly stepping on one of the large stones
which projected into the water, she threw her scarf towards the young man,
who quickly caught it, and in this way supported him until the boatmen who
were loitering among the trees came to his assistance. It was soon found
that he had received but little injury, with the exception of a few bruises,
and a wet jacket. This ascertained, Rose drew back, and prepared to ac-
company her uncle to their boats. She deemed the service she had rendered
the stranger a very simple one, but he viewed it far differently, and in the
romantic enthusiasm of his disposition, he thanked her in the most fervent
manner. Perhaps her beauty might have somewhat enhanced his gratitude.
He begged to know the name of his fair guardian, and presented his card to
her uncle, requesting permission to call on both the following day.

A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNKY. 45

Edmund came, and a short time saw him a welcome guest at the old-
fashioned residence of Captain Fitzallan, whose boat was always in attend-
ance, as he took a proud pleasure in shewing the varied beauties of the lakes
(with which he was so familiar) to the young Englishman. Days flew by
unheeded ; at least the young people marked not their flight, and the old
man loved to see them happy.

Edmund believed the fairy tales of his childhood realized amidst those
scenes of enchantment, and forgot his fond mother and distant home in the
society of the lovely Irish girl, who in the artless confidence of youth trusted
her happiness to his keeping, and never for a moment doubted his truth.
They had exchanged mutual vows of love and constancy. No thought of
future ill shaded the sweet sunshine of their happiness, which was un ruined
as the bosom of the lake beneath the summer sky. Tis ever thus in the
bright and beautiful morning of existence, when every leaf of life is green,
when generous feelings swell the young heart, still true to nature— aye,
ever thus, before the world with artificial colouring spoils life's fresh-
ness. Alas ! that sorrow should cloud the brightness of that morning, chill
those generous feelings, leaving the heart a cheerless desert. Edmund
and Rose saw not the coming storm that threatened to separate them for
ever.

But we must now transfer the reader to a more distant and more worldly
scene.

There is an air of home-felt comfort and tranquil beauty, about most of
the English villages : their neat and comfortable cottages where peace and
plenty seem to dwell ; the pretty churches o'ertopping the hills ; the well
clad, well fed peasantry — all convey an idea of the benign influence, and
fostering care of good landlords who feel a noble pride in the prosperity of
their tenants, and wisely deem the protection they extend to them the true
bond of national union. It is this that reflects such high honour on the
landed gentry of England, and justly entitles them to the high station they
hold in then- native land. Near to one of those villages in a rich domain
rose in proud beauty the mansion of the Beaumonts. The family consisted of
Mr. Beaumont, his wife, and two sons, the younger of whom was his
mother's favourite, and our hero of the lakes.

Mrs. Beaumont was a proud haughty woman of strong feeling and preju-
dices, and had no idea of any one daring to oppose her will ; she deemed very
few worthy of aspiring to an alliance with her family, and had often declared
that her daughters-in-law should boast birth, wealth, and English lineage.
Edmund from his infancy had been the dearest object of her affections ;
his personal beauty and strong likeness to herself — his sweet disposition and
manly bearing, enhanced still more her fondness; as he grew up he
importuned his mother to allow him to enter the army, but from year to year
she tried to divert his thoughts from a military life, and at the period of 'this
tale she agreed to his making a little tour, hoping to drive the idea from his
mind by variety and change of scene. His tutor having consented to accom-
pany him, Edmund selected Ireland as the country he wished most to visit, and
though his mother had strong prejudices against the Irish, she did not like
to oppose him in every thing. This tutor who had some abstruse work in
hand which he intended publishing, did not much relish the Irish excursion,
but feared refusing the request made to him of accompanying Edmund, by
a family who had so much patronage to bestow, and to whom he already
owed so much ; he determined however, as the event proved, to be as little
restraint on Edmund as possible. Mr. Laurier, the tutor, when some short

46 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARXEY.

time at Killarney, found it necessary to go to Dublin, for a few days, in
order to refer to some books relative to the work he was about publishing-.
On his return he found Edmund had made a useful acquaintance in the
person of Captain Fitzallan. So matters rested, and weeks flew on in this way,
when at length Mr, Laurier thought it time to return to England, and was
quite astonished at the reluctance Edmund expressed, when the subject was
mentioned. Strange suspicions began to disturb the tutor's mind, and he de-
termined to observe his young friend closely ; he laid a&ide his books, and took
a boat the following morning to Captain Fitzallan's residence, where he was
hospitably received, and invited to remain the day. It was his first introduc-
tion to Rose, and he saw at once clearly the cause of Edmund's refusal to re-
turn home. A pang shot through his heart at the recollection of his own neg-
lect of the charge committed to his care. The only reparation he could make,
was to write to Mrs. Beaumont immediately, stating his apprehensions, and
requesting her to use her authority by recalling her son. Anger and jealousy,
(yes, jealousy that any one should rival her in her son's affections) filled the
mother's soul, and she was seized with a fit on reading the letter ; her life was
in imminent danger, and her medical attendants declared the least opposition
to her will would prove fatal. Edmund soon after received a letter from his
father, summoning him immediately home, as his mother was very ill and most
anxious to see him. The communication, however, suppressed the receipt of
Mr. Laurier's letter. Edmund who loved his mother fondly, determined to
obey. But how was he to part Rose, the confiding, artless, lovely girl, and
her warm-hearted uncle, who treated him with such ingenuous hospitality ?
He could have passed his life with them on the shore of that beautiful lake.
When should he meet Rose again? His mother's prejudices, his father's pride,
would separate them for ever. Could he prevail on her to become his wife,
he might by that endearing title, claim her hereafter ; his parents would in
time relent ; seventeen is not the age of prudence, particularly if the blessing
of maternal guardianship be wanting ; and Rose had never heard a mother's
warning voice, or known her gentle care.

Edmund had consented to accompany his tutor the following night in the
mail which left for Dublin, so that a few hours more and he should part Rose
perhaps for ever. Yet he, with all the eloquence of love, urged her to
become his wife before the bitter hour of separation ; he would arrange with
the clergyman to meet them at the little rustic chapel in the mountains, by
sun-rise the following morning. It was not very difficult to prevail on one
so young, so confiding, and inexperienced, to take this imprudent step ;
Edmund had a powerful, though silent advocate in the pleadings of his
gentle mistress's heart ; and she at length consented; but no sooner had
she done so, than she became affrighted at the idea of stealing from her
uncle's house at that early hour ; and disposing of her heart and hand without
either his knowledge or consent ; — there was ingratitude in the very thought,
and she shrank tremblingly from it. But Edmund declared "it would
ruin all their plans if her uncle even suspected them." She knew not how
to oppose his arguments, but yeilding, she was not happy. And who is ever
so when deaf to the silent monitor, the small still voice, within the bosom,
whose dictates of unerring truth lead to present peace, and eternal happiness ?

The young bride elect rose next morning at break of day ; Nora her faith-
ful attendant assisted at her simple toilette, and wrapping a cloak round her,
they both passed out of the house by a back door. The little chapel was
about half a mile distant in the mountains ; horses were prepared for them
to ride, and Paddy, the Captain's servant walked beside them. It was a

A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY. 47

grey autumnal morning in the beginning of October. The air was chill, and
a fresh breeze stirred the waters of the lake. Heavy vapours from the
Atlantic rested on the summit of the distant mountains. Rose felt the influence
of the atmosphere, and her heart beat with timid apprehension. When
they reached the little chapel, Edmund (who was already there) assisted
her to dismount, and, pressing her hand, whispered words of encouragement.
In a few moments the party stood within the rural temple, and in the
presence of the clergyman and their humble followers, Edmund and Rose
pledged their faith to each other for life. It appeared to Nora a very lone-
some dismal wedding, and she whispered to Paddy that she observed a
solitary magpie perch on some heath near the chapel door — " a very unlucky
sign," but she would not mention it to the mistress. Edmund had promised
to breakfast with Captain Fitzallan on that morning, the last of his visit to
Killamey; he therefore accompanied his fair bride on her return home.
The uncle was accustomed to his niece's habit of taking early rides, and
consequently she knew he would not be alarmed at her absence. The bridal
party quitted the rustic chapel : as they did so, the sun shone brightly on
the wild road before them ; the heavy vapours which shrouded the mountains
were floating fast away ; Rose's spirits revived beneath the smile of Heaven.
She thought the change auspicious, remembering the old adage " happy the
bride the sun shines on."

Rose was received by her unsuspecting uncle with his usual affection.
He noticed her silence, as she took her place at the breakfast table, but he
attributed it to the charitable visit he supposed she had been making to some
poor family that morning. Edmund tried to be gay, but it was an effort.
The old man looked alternately at each from time to time, until a thought sug-
gested itself that something unusual affected both, particularly Rose, who eat
not a morsel. At length he exclaimed, " My children what is the matter ?"
Rose, looking towards her uncle, found his eyes fixed on her ; their tender
expression touched the chord of affection in her bosom ; throwing herself
into his arms she wept like a child : concealment was no longer possible ;
and all was soon told ! The old man was fully convinced of the great im-
prudence they were guilty of, but it was foreign to his kind nature to
reproach those he loved, and how could he blame Edmund for preferring his
little Rose to all the girls he had ever known ? no one was wrong but
himself, and he declared he was an old fool not to have foreseen it. Not
long after this denouement, Mr. Laurier arrived ; his anger and disappoint-
ment may be imagined when he heard the events of the morning. How
should he break the news to Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont ? In liis vexation he
would scarcely speak to Edmund, whom he insisted should accompany him
at once to Dublin, showing him a letter he had received that day from
England, with very alarming accounts of his mother's health. Edmund took
a sad and tender farewell of his youthful bride, vowing eternal fidelity, and
promising to return the moment his mother was convalescent.

A few days brought him to his parent's side ; and she welcomed him with
the fondest affection. Her physicians had ordered change of climate and of
scene for the restoration of her health, and she declared her intention of
taking her son with her. This was a deathblow to Edmund's hopes ; he
avowed his marriage, and his determination to return to Ireland and claim his
wife. His mother's passions were roused at this intelligence, and she applied
to her husband to use his authority in breaking the marriage. Her son was
not of age ; and, according to the laws of England, it was illegal, the cere-
mony having only been performed by a Catholic clergyman. Every art

48 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY.

and persuasion were used to make Edmund a party to their wishes, but in
vain. Nothing therefore remained but to take him abroad, and prevent all
correspondence between him and "the artful Irish girl," as they called her.
Accordingly his mother and family removed to Italy. At first, Edmund was
in a state of irritability and sorrow ; his letters to Ireland were intercepted,
and those poor Rose wrote never reached him. His mother used all her
influence (and she had much) to divert his thoughts and affections. She
required his constant attendance, and introduced him into the best and most
attractive society ; he was very young, and by degrees he became less un-
happy, and entered into all the amusements which surrounded him. Rose's
silence at first pained him to the heart, but insensibly weaned his thoughts
from her. His military penchant again revived, and he entreated his father
and mother to get him a commission. Accordingly his father (his mother

no longer dissenting) wrote to Colonel L r a friend of his in London, to

procure one for Edmund as soon as possible. At this time they had been
two years in Italy, and his mother's health quite re-established ; they pre-
pared to return home.

But how did the young forsaken wife support the neglect of the faithless
wanderer ? Had she forgotten him ? Had she ceased to love him ? No !
such is not woman's nature. Woman worships to the last the idol of her
heart, though the beauty of the shrine be fled, leaving it a broken and deserted
ruin. Day after day, she awaited his promised letters, till at length wearied
with disappointment her spirits sank ; doubts of Edmund's truth were the last
to present themselves to her mind, but too soon they did come in all their
bitterness. Indignation at first swelled her gentle bosom, but tenderness
and love soon resumed their place, and left her mourning over the past in
fruitless sorrow. It almost broke her fond uncle's heart to see his sweet
Rose evidently drooping, her cheek so pale, — her eyes dim with tears, — the
music of her voice hushed to silence, — her health rapidly declining. She
was a blighted flower fading away even in the morning of spring. The
physician (an old friend of her uncle's) whom he called on to attend her,
could not minister to a mind diseased. He recommended change of air
and scene as absolutely necessary to arrest, if possible, the malady which
threatened her. Her uncle had some military friends in Plymouth, and
thither he purposed going, for a while, and trying the effects of the southern
climate of England on his beloved child. Those only, who have felt the
lingering death of hope, and the soul sickening pangs of suspense, can know
how surely they undermine health and strength.

The wound poor Rose had received from him she loved, sank festering
deeply into her bosom. The solitude of her mountain home, and the seclu-
sion in which she lived, were calculated to preserve in their first freshness the
tender and confiding feelings of her bosom, which intercourse with the heart-
less world but too often wither and destroy. Her restoration therefore to
health and happiness, were beyond the reach of art, which may occasionally
alleviate suffering, but can never triumph over nature.

The Beaumont family had been some months re-established in their
English home, where they were welcomed by their happy prosperous ten-
antry. Edmund had been gazetted immediately on his return, and his
military ardour was likely to be put to the test. His regiment in a very
short time was ordered out to India. His mother was in despair, and urged
him to sell out, but he would not listen to such a proposal. Fear of the
Irish connection was ever before his father's mind ; and, of the two, he pre-
ferred that which in his prejudiced opinion was the lesser evil. All was

A RECOLLECTION OF KILLAKNEY. 49

preparation for Edmund's departure ; he took a most affecting and tender
leave of his family and of his mother in particular, whom he fondly loved.
He was to join his brother officers at Plymouth, from whence they were to
sail. The day after his arrival at that port, as he passed through part of
the town, which commands a view of the sea, his attention was attracted by
a female figure sitting at a window of one of the houses ; her cheek rested
on her hand, which thus shaded her face ; but the outline of the head, with
its drapery of golden ringlets falling round it, and the elegance of the slight
delicate figure in the stillness of its attitude, reminded him of a face and form
he once loved in all the pride of health and beauty. His heart throbbed
at the recollection, and he stood transfixed. Slowly the lady turned to gaze
on the sea. Oh ! what remorse filled his soul, as the present shadowy like-
ness of the former fair original met his view. The bright colouring of the
morning bloom was gone ; the hue of death had replaced it. Alas ! how
changed ! Yet she was still the same. Edmund's frame trembled ; his brain
seemed on fire. In the impetuosity of youth, he sought admittance
to the house, and rushing into the drawing-room where she sat, caught
the faded form of his deserted wife in his arms, pressing her cold lips, and
calling her by every endearing title. But she heard him not. Unexpected
joy is often as oppressive as sorrow. It proved too much for Rose, in her
delicate state of health, and ere she could pronounce her husband's name
she had fainted. He rang for assistance : the uncle, and Nora appeared.

It is vain to attempt describing Edmund's feelings of shame and remorse,
as he once more met the kind-hearted old captain. He could only say that
he had come to make reparation for all the sorrow he had caused him, and
his lovely niece. The old man looking towards her inanimate form, shook
his head sorrowfully, and the tears trembled on his eye-lids. Nora's resto-
ratives recalled Rose to consciousness. Her eyes immediately turned to-
wards Edmund, who knelt beside her. As she met his returning glance of
affection, she seemed to gain strength. Her physician (who had been sent
for) and her uncle would not then permit any explanation likely to excite
her, but in a few days all was told, and Edmund forgiven. In her uncle's
presence, he and Rose were again united, according to the rites of the
Church of England, and the young husband determined that nothing but
death should again separate them. Yet, how could she undergo all the
difficulties of a long voyage, in her precarious state of health ? The troops
were under sailing orders in a few days, and he must accompany them. How
leave her ? The physicians declared it might cost her life to take her to sea,
in her very weak state, and at that time of the year. Edmund could not
oppose them. He and poor Rose were again doomed to part, but it was
arranged that she should follow in the latter end of May, three months
after his departure, under the protection of an experienced captain and his
wife. As long as Edmund remained, Rose seemed to improve in health.
The lustre of her eye brightened ; the colour on her cheek returned in greater
loveliness ; but darkness was beneath that light, and death beneath that
bloom. Treacherous consumption ever cheating the hopes of love, preyed
on the young victim, while decking her with beauty for the grave.

Edmund was at length forced to go, and after the sad parting, hope still
fluttered in the young wife's bosom, sustaining her fast fleeting existence.
Her uncle promised to follow her and Edmund to India, but was now
obliged to return to Ireland in order to dispose of his property. He there-
fore, on a beautiful morning in the latter end of May, committed his beloved
child to the protection of the captain and his wife, who promised to consider

VOL. IV. NO. XV, E

50 A RECOLLECTION OF KILLA.RNEY.

her as their own, until they restored her to her husband. Poor Rose for
some time seemed to revive, under the influence of the sea air and voyage,
and her kind friends began to trust she might recover ; but it was a false
hope. By degrees she daily grew weaker. One lovely evening in the middle
of June, they carried her to a sofa placed for her on deck. She had been
more than usually weak that day, and they hoped the freshness of the
evening breeze might revive her. The captain's wife took a seat by her
side. Her breathing was short and hurried, yet she did not appear to suffer
much. The sun was just then setting, the horizon appeared on fire lit up by
its golden rays. As it sank to rest on the waters, Rose raised herself with
much difficulty from her reclining posture to gaze for a moment on its part-
ing light, which she had ever loved to contemplate, when it beamed at sum-
mer eve on all the matchless beauties of her distant home. The efforts, or
the feelings uVexcited, proved too much for her, and she fell back exhausted
on the couch : it was soon evident to her anxious friends, that the tide of life
was fast ebbing from her bosom. She looked expressively at them, then
raising her eyes to Heaven, and breathing a fervent prayer, the stillness of
death stole over her lovely features, proclaiming too truly that life's short
voyage was at an end. The bright sun had set on her for ever. No church
bell tolled for her, no prayers were chaunted. The cold ocean was her
grave; the wild cry of the sea birds was her funeral dirge, and the morning
breeze, as it crested the wave, breathed a requiem to her departed spirit.
One year after this sad event, and the Beaumont family mourned the death
of their youngest son. He had fallen in the service of his country.

Captain Fitzallan survived his beloved niece but a few months ; he sleeps
amidst the beautiful ruins of Mucruss Abbey.

ROYAL AUTOGRAPHS.

HENRY the Eighth wrote a strong hand, but as if he had seldom a good
pen. " The vehemence of his character," says D'Israeli, " convey itself
into his writing; — bold, hasty, and commanding'. I have no doubt that the
assertor of the Pope's supremacy, and its redoubted opponent, split many a
good quill." The autograph of the mild and feminine Edward VI. is fair,
flowing, and legible ; and that of Queen Elibabeth, stiff, firm, arid elabo-
rate, written in a large, tall character, and with very upright letters,
denoting asperity and ostentation. Her ill-fated sister queen, poor Mary
Stuart, wrote elegantly, though usually in uneven lines ; in a style indica-
tive of simplicity, softness, and amiability. James I. wrote an ungainly
scrawl, all awry, and careless ; strongly marking the personal negligence he
carried into all the affairs of life. The first Charles's was a fair, open,
Italian hand, most correctly formed ; and his successor, the witty monarch's
volatile, heedless, restless character, is not incorrectly exhibited in his little
pretty running hand, scribbled, as it were, in haste and impatience. The
phlegmatic temper and matter- of-business habits of James II. are evinced
in his large commercial autograph; and Queen Anne's commonplace
character, in her good, commonplace handwriting.

THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT
BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

Castle Coole, co.
SEAT OF THE KARL OF BELMORE.

THIS noble residence of the Earls of Belmore is about a mile distant
from Enniskillen, on the banks of the fair Lake Erne. The approach
from the town affords a fine prospect of a picturesque sheet of water,
studded with a vast number of islands — all of them green, and many of
sufficient size to afford pasturage to flocks and herds. I know no part
of Ireland more interesting than this country. In scenery, in historical
fame, and modern improvement, it rivals every country in Europe. Mr.
and Mrs. Hall, in their work on Ireland, must be regarded as good
judges, having seen and observed closely almost the whole of the United
Kingdom, and, speaking of this locality, remark, " It is, however, to the
grace and grandeur of Nature that we desire to direct the attention of
our readers. Travel where they will, in this singularly beautiful neigh-
bourhood, lovers of the picturesque will have rare treats at every step.
It is impossible to exaggerate in describing the surpassing loveliness of
the whole locality. How many thousands there are, who, if just ideas
could be conveyed to them of its attractions, would make their annual
tour hither instead of up the " hackneyed and sodden Rhine," infinitely
less rich in natural graces, far inferior in the studies of character it yields,
and much less abundant in all the enjoyments that can recompense the
traveller ! Nothing in Great Britain — perhaps nothing in Europe — can
surpass in beauty the view along the road that leads into Enniskillen.
Now, without drawing any invidious comparison between Lough Erne and
the Rhine, I must say that I think it a shame so many of our Irish tourists
will, year after year, betake themselves abroad, leaving unknown and un-
noticed the equally charming natural beauties of their own green Isle. Is
it because it is their own they despise it ? How true the remark — " What
we have we prize not at its worth," and no stronger instance exists than
the fact of Lough Erne, the Blackwater in Munster, and other scenes,
the subject of delight and encomium to the strangers who visit them
from other lands, being hardly known as places worth the trouble of
looking at to the inhabitants of Ireland, and seldom sought by the tourist.
Let it be our pleasing task to call attention to these neglected scenes —
to guide the native footstep thither — to awaken an interest for Ireland
in the breasts of Irishmen of all shades and classes, and make them at
length feel they have a common country, and as we are essentially an
aristocratic people, no where can this be so appropriately carried out
than in the pages of the Patrician.

Castle Coole is a mansion of regular uniform style. The elegance of
the design, the scale of magnificence observed in the internal arrange-
ments, and the singular beauty of its surrounding scenery, must render
it an object of admiration to every age. The house consists of a square
centre with extensive wings, along the centre of which runs a facade
supported by Tastun pillars, and the whole being of Portland stone be-

E 2

52 »CASTLE COOLK.

speak the pure and elegant simplicity which marked the designs of Pa-
ladio. A graceful approach leads nearly round the mansion, and as it
traverses the wide spread lawns, rich and varied plantations meet the
sight. The park is profusely supplied with trees, some dotting the verdant
mead in single piles, others grouped in clumps. Numerous lakes, some of
great extent — bearing wooded islets on their grassy bosoms, diversify tree
and field. I never witnessed a greater profusion of water fowl; birds of
every kind that haunt the stream held revelry as I passed. The offices,
also faced with Portland stone, form a neat and well ordered quadrangle
not far from the mansion. The view from the hall door looking over a
great extent of country, is one scene of striking and enchanting loveli-
ness.

The family is of Scottish extraction. John Lowry, a native of Scot-
land, having emigrated to this part of the British dominions towards the
close of the 17th century settled at Ahenis in the county Tyrone.. As
might have been expected he took part with the supporters of William
of Nassau, during the civil wars of 1688 — 9, and had the misfortune to
lose his wife during the dreadful privations which the garrison, besieged
within the walls of Londonderry, experienced. Several of his descend-
ants represented the county Tyrone in the Irish House of Commons, and,
on 6th January 1781, Armar Lowry, Esq. M.P., was elevated to the
Peerage of Ireland as Baron Belmore of Castle Coole, on which occa-
sion he assumed the name and arms of Corry. Another branch of this
family is seated at Pomeroy House, represented by Robert William
Lowry, Esq.* The Earldom of Belmore was conferred by creation 5th
Nov. 1797. The present earl is a minor, having lately succeeded his la-
mented father.

Before leaving Enniskillen, 1 paid a visit to a very astonishing island
in Lake Erne — Devenish or Daim Inis, signifying the Island of the Ox,
in Latin it was called Bovis Insula, I conclude from the number of
these animals that were accustomed to browse on the grass which grows
so luxuriantly. It contains about eighty acres, and was the chosen seat
of religion and learning in days of yore. The first abbey is said to have
been founded here as early as A.D. 563 by St. Laserian. The Danes
frequently plundered the monastery. Over the altar of the church is a
richly ornamented window, and near it on a tablet built in the wall is the
following inscription in very rude raised characters.

Mattheus O'Dubigan hoc opus fecit

Bartholameo O'Flanagan Priori de Daminio 1449. -

The O'Flanagans — Lords of Tura — Tuath Ratha, i.e. the District of
the Fortress, had considerable possessions along the borders of Lake Erne,
comprising at one time, the whole of the present Barony of Maghero-
boy, but sharing the fortunes of their chief king and kinsman, Maguire
Prince of Fermanagh, lost the whole of those estates by repeated con-
fiscations. On the Island of Devenish is one of the most perfect round
towers It is built of hewn stone, each about a foot square. The
conical roof having been endangered by a small tree growing out of the
slight interstices, caused some repairs requisite which were executed with
great skill, and this memento of the days of old restored to its pristine
state.

* Burke's Commoners, vol. iii. p. 140.

KILKENNY CASTLE. 53

Btlfmtnp Castle.
SEAT OF THE MARQUIS ORMOND.

How full of solemn feudality is Kilkenny Castle ! Striking at once both
mental and bodily vision, for its site is not only majestic and grand,
loftily towering over

The stubborn Neure, whose waters grey —
By fair Kilkenny and Ross-ponte borde,

but the venerable walls, and antique bastions speak of historical associa-
tions with which they are intimately connected, and the interest is excited
by the magnitude of the incidents which occurred here.

It dates with the arrival of the English in this country, and, though
the revolution of ages have effected changes in the possessions, and re-
cent improvements and alterations have swept away traces of the honour-
able wounds which the implements of war, and time dealt on the fortress,
legend, and ballad, and chronicle has preserved its history. The original
castle is said to have been built by Strongbow, and subsequently de-
stroyed by the Irish shortly after its erection ; but the place was deemed
too important to be left defenceless, for we find in A.D. 1 1Q5, a spacious and
noble castle arose from the ruins. In a military point of view, (no trifling
object in those days) the situation was most eligible. The castle was
built on a lofty mound, one side steep and precipitous, with the rushing
Nore sweeping round its base. To this natural rampart was added a
wall of solid masonry, forty feet high. The other parts were defended
by bastions, curtains, towers, and outworks. The area thus inclosed
contained the donjon and main keep, inhabited by the distinguished owner
William, Lord Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, and a caserne for a strong
garrison. In 1391 it came by purchase into the present noble family-
having been bought by James Butler, third Earl of Ormond, a descendant
of Theobald Walter, a great favourite of Henry II., who made him large
grants in his newly acquired Irish territory. He filled the office of Chief
Butler of Ireland, which became hereditary, and the surname of the
family. As our space would not admit our dwelling on the numerous
important events which these walls have witnessed, as indeed few Chap-
ters of the History of Ireland omit some record of transactions in which
Kilkenny Castle bears a part, we proceed to give a brief notice of its
present appearance.

Its situation, close by the Nore, is of extreme beauty. The elevation
is considerable and affords an extensive view, as the castle overlooks the
city, and the sight can follow the windings of the river, through many a
verdant meadow, shady grove, and well- planted lawn. The river is
clear and bright, and the city has the advantage of permitting an uninter-
rupted prospect, boasting of water without mud, air without fog, and
fire without smoke. So that when the eye is sated with gazing on the
reaches of the clear sparkling river, now glancing along fair meadowy
niches, and anon lost between high wooded banks, it can wander over
spire and gable of the city, and here wrapt in the quiet of the lordly
dwelling, the visitor listens to the hum of the busy- bustling crowd, who
urge their laborious callings in every variety of city life.

The castle is approached from the town, and a long range of offices

54 KILKENNY CASTLE.

are on the right hand. Neither the style of architecture in which they
are built, nor the entrance, is in accordance with the rest of the castle.
This is the more striking from the proximity to the venerable walls.
The recent buildings are in the best taste, and well executed. Some
basso-relievos are finely sculptured. We went through many of the
rooms not remarkable of size, but convenient and affording pleasing
views of the country round. There has, however, been recently com-
pleted, a splendid picture gallery, about 150 feet in length. This con-
tains a great collection of paintings. The belles, the wits, the courtiers,
and courtezans of the Merry Monarch are here congregated, and the
sight is dazzled by the gorgeous blaze of beauty, and dress, depicted by
Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfry Kneller, until the weariness of excess of
glare is relieved by the sober colouring of Vandyke, or the religious ten-
derness of Carlo Dolci. Here are kings and Queens in all their pomp,
King Charles I. and his unhappy queen ;^King Charles II., King James
II., Queen Mary, Queen Anne, Royal Family, by Vandyke, Duchess of
Richmond, by Sir Godfry Kneller, with portraits of various members of
the Ormond family, scripture pieces, landscapes, flowers, mingled with
saints and sinners, gay knights and grave senators, a motly and distin-
guished array. What food for meditation is here for the imaginative mind ?
What tales these silent beings could tell were the canvass animated ?
Here are kings who, during their career on earth, experienced all the
vicissitudes of fortune, the privations that afflict the meanest subject,
hunger and poverty, and terror of enemies, and loss of friends and for-
tune. One was exiled, another dethroned, another beheaded. Here are
youthful beauties radiant in smiles and charms, who lived till these
smiles ceased to captivate, and these charms to win admiration. What
feelings are aroused by the sad fate of many a proud noble here standing
clad in his peer's robes. The battle field witnessed the death throes of
some, the sod of a foreign land covered the bones of others. And now
their fame and their fate lives but in the vague legend and a few feet of
painted canvass. I lingered amidst these frail memorials of greatness
until the shadows of evening deepened the gloom of the old towers.
The sun sank gorgeously into a cradle of golden rays, pillowed by downy
clouds of dazzling whiteness. The Nore hymned a vesper song as the
stars shone out, and the hour was meet for reminiscences of the past.
There floated before us visions of the former owners, the Anglo-Norman
invaders, the fierce conflicts with the Irish Chiefs, the rivalry between the
Butlers andFitz Geralds of- Desmond; the feuds that existed between these
Irish Guelphs and Ghibellins are celebrated in the annals of Ireland.
Once we are told a reconciliation was effected, and the leaders agreed to
shake hands j but they took the precaution of doing so through an aper-
ture in an oaken door, each fearing to be poniarded by the other ! After
the battle of Affane, on the banks of the Blackwater, the Fitz Geralds
were repulsed, and their chieftain" made prisoner. While weak from loss
of blood, the victors were bearing him on their shoulders, and the Lord
of Ormond triumphantly exclaimed " Where now is the great Earl of
Desmond ?" " Here," replied the Lord Gerald, " now in his proper
place, still on the necks of the Butlers."

" The antiquity of this family," says Burke,* " is indisputable } but
whence it immediately derived its origin is not so clearly established. Its

* Peerage.

KILKENNY CASTLE. >

surname however, admits of no doubt as springing from the chief butler-
age of Ireland, conferred by Henry II. on Theobold Fitzwalter in 117?."
We find various descendants of Theobold sitting in the Parliaments of the
Pale, and filling high offices, Lords Justices, &c. The Earldom of
Ormond was granted to James Butler in 1328, by creation of King Ed-
ward III. James, third Earl, purchased the Castle of Kilkenny from the
heirs of Sir Hugh le de Spencer, Earl of Gloucester in 1391, which has
since been the principal seat of this family. The representatives of the
House of Ormond were not alone distinguished by their pride of ancestry
and martial deeds. Many of the Earls of Ormond were famed for a love
of literature and extent of learning, quite remarkable in their time. We
need not refer to higher authority than the compliment Edward IV.
paid to the demeanour and conduct of John, the sixth Earl. " If good
breeding and liberal qualities were lost in the world, they might be all
found in the Earl of Ormonde." In a note to Hall's Ireland, vol. ii., is a
curious letter stated to have been the reply of a very loyal man, Sir Piers
Butler, Earl of Ossory, in answer to a proposal of the Earl of Kildare,
that the two houses should unite their forces, take Ireland from the
dominion of Henry VIII., and divide it between them. The Earl of
Kildare to have one moiety, Earl of Ossory and his son Lord James
Butler the other. " Taking pen in hand to write to you my absolute
answer, I muse in the first line by what name to call you— my lord, or
my cousin, — seeing that your notorious treason hath impeached your
loyalty and honour, and your desperate lewdness hath shamed your
kindred. You are, by your expressions, so liberal in parting stakes with
me, that a man would weene you had no right to the game j" and so im-
portunate for my company, as if you would persuade me to hang with
you for good-fellowship. And think you, that James is so bad as to
gape for gudgeons, or so ungracious as to sell his truth and loyalty for
a piece of Ireland ? Were it so (as it cannot be) that the chickens you
reckon were both hatched and feathered ; yet be thou sure, I had rather
in this quarrel die thine enemy than live thy partner. For the kindness
you proffer me, and goodwill, in the end of your letter, the best way I
can propose to requite you, that is, in advising you, though you have
fetched your fence, yet to look well before you leap over. Ignorance,
error, and a mistake of duty hath carried you unawares to this folly, not
yet so rank, but it may be cured. The king is a vessel of mercy and
bounty j your words against his majesty shall not be counted malicious,
but only bulked out of heat and impotency ; except yourself by heaping
of offences discover a mischievous and wilful meaning. Farewell."

The descendants of so straightforward a subject should partake of his
spirit, and a hatred of court favourites appears a distinguishing feature
in the characters of the Butlers. In Carte's life of the Duke of Ormond,
we find the hostility of the Earl Thomas to Queen Elizabeth's minion,
the Earl of Leicester, not confined to language. He used often tell her
Majesty in plain terms that Leicester was a villain and a coward. Com-
ing one day to Court he met Leicester in the anti-chamber who bidding
him good-morrow said, "My lord of Ormonde, I dreamed of you last
night." " What could you dream of me ?" asked Ormonde. " I dreamed,"
says the other, " that I gave you a box on the ear." "Dreams," an-
swered the Earl, "are to be interpreted by contraries j" and, without
more ceremony, gave Leicester a hearty cuff on the ear. He was upon
this sent to the Tower, but shortly after liberated.

56 KILKENNY CASTLE.

The next instance of courage which tradition preserves, is related of
James, afterwards Duke of Ormond, while yet a very young man about
twenty-two years of age. He went to attend the Parliament in Dublin sum-
moned by Wentworth, Lord Lieutenant to Charles I. The Lord Deputy
had issued a proclamation forbidding any member of either house to enter
with his sword. As the Earl of Ormond was passing the door of the
House of Peers, the Usher of the Black Rod required his sword. The
request being treated with silent contempt. He demanded it peremptorily,
whereupon the Earl replied, "If he had his sword, it should be in his body,
and haughtily strode to his seat. The Lord Deputy summoned the re-
fractory Peer before the Privy Council, and called on him to answer for
his conduct : upon which, Lord Ormond said he acted under the oath of
his investiture, that he received his title to attend Parliament cum gladio
cinatus." The ability and courage of the young noble obtained him great
applause, and the Deputy perceived he had better conciliate his friend-
ship, than provoke his enmity. He accordingly heaped favours upon
him ; made him a Privy Councillor at the age of twenty-five. This lord
was the father of one of the purest characters of that, or any age — the Earl
of Ossory. Of him was it truly said — " His virtue was unspotted in the
centre of a luxurious court j his integrity unblemished amid all the vices
of the times j his honour intainted through the course of his whole life."
" His Majesty," exclaimed Evelyn, on hearing of his death, " never lost
a worthier subject, nor father a better or more dutiful son : a loving,
generous, good natured and perfectly obliging friend — one who had done
innumerable kindnesses to several before they knew it j nor did he ever
advance any who were not worthy j no one more brave, more modest j
none more humble, sober, and every way virtuous. Unhappy England !
in this illustrious person's loss. What shall I add ? He deserves all
that a sincere friend, a brave soldier, a virtuous courtier, a loyal subject,
an honest man, a bountiful master, and a good Christian, could deserve
of his prince and country."

How affecting to turn from this fine panegyric, traced by the hand
of generous friendship, revealing the peculiar excellent qualities of the
deceased, and particularising each, to the passionate burst of grief j
in which the bereaved Duke must have indulged, when the heir of his
house lay a corpse before him ; and what depth of feeling and sublime
appreciation of the inestimable loss is contained in his reply to some ex-
pression of condolence — " I would not exchange my dead son for any
living son in Christendom." Surely, such an instance of genuine regard for
the illustrious dead must be remembered with pride by their descendants !
How well the Earl of Ossory deserved the praise bestowed on him, and
the universal grief felt at his death, may be seen from the following
anecdote, which exhibits, strong filial piety and fearlessness of Court
favourites which the King's presence could not restrain. Not long after
the celebrated attempt of Blood to kill the Duke of Ormond, in which he
had nearly succeeded, being on his way with him to Tyburn, where he
resolved the Duke should hang, when he was rescued, the Earl of Ossory
met the Duke of Buckingham, who was universally beloved, the instiga-
tor and protector of Blood, in the royal chamber, and thus addressed him
while behind the King's chair. " My lord, I know well that you are at
the bottom of this late attempt of Blood's upon my father j and therefore I
give you fair warning, if my father comes to a violent death by sword or
pistol, if he does by the hand of a ruffian, or the more secret way of poison,

KILKENNY CASTLE. 57

I shall not be at a loss to know the real author of it. I shall consider
you as the assassin, I shall treat you as such, and I shall pistol you, though
you stood behind the King's chair ; and I tell it you in his Majesty's
presence, that you may be sure I will keep my word."

But we must bid adieu to this noble house. The present Marquis,
born in 1808, came to the title on the death of his father in 1 838 j he
is married to a daughter of General, the Hon. Sir Edward Paget, G.C.B. ,
and it is to his taste and perseverance the Castle of Kilkenny owes its
improved condition. We might suggest an alteration in the entrance, to
preserve the harmony of the structure, which is unquestionably one of
the most striking of our Irish Castles and Mansions.

SONG OF THE CAPTIVE ROBBER.

FROM THE RUSSIAN.

Hush ! hush ! green forest, cease to pour

Thy murmurs on mine ear :
Thy voice, which I may hear no more,
Speaks sadly of the days of yore,

Troubling my wandering thoughts with fear ;
And on the morrow I must stand
Before the mighty Tzar, with blood-stain'd hand !

The terrible Tzar will say to me,

" Answer me well, my child !
And be thy heart from terror free —
Son of a peasant ! tell to me,

Who in the forest lone and wild,
Were joined with thee in lawless strife,
The chosen comrades of thy robber-life ?"

And I will answer, " mighty Tzar !

The truth now deign to know :
Companions four had I, O Tzar !
The darksome night — my scimitar —

My trusty steed — my bended bow —
These were my four companions, Sire ;
My messengers — darts hardened in the fire !"

Then will the Christian Tzar reply :

" Honour to thee, my son !
Who brav'st the law so fearfully,
Yet know'st to speak so craftily :

A high reward well hast thou won,
For lo ! a palace waits thee on the plain —
A stately gibbet, and a hempen chain !"

J. L. ELLBRTON.

THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE.

No. III.— THE CLASSIC SCHOOL.

FRANCE perhaps, even more than other nations which can boast of ages
of civilization and greatness, has among its people, large and important
bodies who cling with unalterable devotion to the feelings, manners and
customs, of distinct and different periods. Thus do the advocates of
the dethroned house of Bourbon invariably adopt the style and senti-
ment which characterised the courts of Louis the Great, and his un-
fortunate descendants. Thus too, there are many who to this day, in
sorrow be it said, assume the bearing, and ape the antics of the hideous
French republic. How dearly also do the JBonapartists attach themselves
to the pompous fashion and grandiloquent tone of their brief, but mag-
nificent empire ; for, with them,

Caesar, thou art mighty yet :
Thy spirit walks abroad.

It is rather singular that the classic drama happens to be alike accept-
able to royalist, republican, and imperialist. The supporter of the
ancient regime fondly cherishes the school formed by the Corneilles and
Racines of his boasted Ludovican age. The Girondist, or Terrorist,
regards the classic stage as the best means of bringing to present and
perspicuous view, the form and features of those Greek and Roman
commonwealths, which the revolutionary party so viciously, and miser-
ably endeavoured to copy. Again, the theatres of ancient Greece and
Rome were in accordance with the amplified state and proud existence
of a conqueror, whose models were Caesar and Alexander. Indeed,
during the continuance of Napoleon's sway, the classic drama was so
popular, that the taste went to excess, and plays became the mere
vehicles of cold, tedious and bombastic declamation. The Romantic
school therefore had to contend against the fixed prejudices of these
three parties, which it could never overcome. Its eminent success
was with the rest of the people j but the classic drama still retained
its hold upon a portion of the public. There were authors who wrote
for it, and audiences who came to applaud it. Yet it would probably
have followed the political decline of its favourers, and have sunk into
very infrequent representation, or entire disuse, but for the appearance
of an actress whose great genius has effected, for a time, the complete
restoration of the classic stage. Mile. Rachel has revived Corneille,
and Racine, and rendered popular their modern imitators. This heroine
of the Theatre Fran£ais resembles in personal dignity and grace, the
master statues of antiquity : her mind is also with the ancients. Sub-
dued by her wondrous art, the romancists themselves come once more
to contemplate and to sympathize with the sorrows of Andromache, or
the wrongs of the sister of Horatius. The writings of the classic drama
are again in the ascendant. Among the more modern classic authors,
the principal of later, or actual existence, are Laharpe, Chenier,Lemercier,

THE DRAMA OF MODERN FUANCE. 59

Ducis, Delavigne, Guiraud, Soumet and Latour. The "Philoctete"
of Laharpe is a scholar-like and faithful imitation of a Grecian play.
The Sieurs Chenier and Lemercier, (the latter afterwards deserted the
classic cause) are eminent as poets, but as dramatists are now little
thought of ; their works, such as " Tiberius," " Clovis," " Agamemnon,"
are not, we believe, patronized by Mile. Rachel. Guiraud is the author
of the tragedies of " Les Machabees," and " Compte Julien,*' and others
of more than passing merit. Ducis converted the plays of Shakespeare
into classic dramas, and mainly owed his success to the acting of Talma.
The reputation of Casimir De La Vigne is too well established to allow
his works to be passed over, without more comment and consideration.
M. De La Vigne is really a fine poet, and his writings frequently display
much of elegant diction, and exquisite pathos. Unlike his romantic
rivals, he never verges beyond the bounds of purity and propriety ;
indeed this is a virtue common to most authors of his school. De
La Vigne's four great tragedies, are " Don Juan d'Autriche," " Les En-
fans d'Edouard," " Les Vepres Siciliennes," and "Le Paria." We prefer
the two latter, and therefore would especially notice them. " Les Vepres
Siciliennes," as its name announces, takes for plot that terrible massacre
and extermination of the French, which occurred at Palermo, in 1282,
and which has obtained the appellation of "The Sicilian Vespers."
The famous John of Procida, the instigator of the revolt, is introduced
upon the scene, and his stern and determined character is well pourtrayed.
The nature of the subject is however, little suited to the unity of time
and place which a classic dramatist is obliged to observe. Instead of
having, as in a Shakesperian play, the events of the fearful insurrection
vividly presented to the audience, the story entirely depends on the
descriptive accounts given by the various persons of the drama. Some
of these narratives are, however, told with spirit, especially that of the
heroine's confidant, Elfrida, who has witnessed the commencement of
the massacre in the church of Palermo. Her relation is as follows j but
of course the reader must make due allowance for the injury done to the
original verse, by a translation into English prose.

Elfrida. " I slowly ascended the steps of the sanctuary, still strewed
with flowers and sacred branches. The people, prostrated under those
ancient arches, had begun to sing; the psalms of the prophet-king, when
a terrible sound shook the temple. The doors moved suddenly on their
hinges. They opened. Aged men, distracted women, priests and
soldiers who besieged the outlets, the former pursued, the latter threaten-
ing, the whole rushing against each other, burst over the threshold in
multitudes. From mouth to mouth, fly the words ' War to Tyrants.'
Priests repeat them with a savage look : children even respond. I
wish to fly, but suddenly this increasing torrent closes the path. Our
conquerors, whom a profane and rash love had to their destruction
assembled at the foot of the sanctuary, calm though surprised, hear, with-
out fear, the tumultuous cries of the enraged mob. Their swords glitter ;
numbers increase their courage. A cavalier rushes forward, opens a
passage ; he advances with precipitation. All yield to the strength of his
arm : the dispersed ranks make way for him. He offers himself to their
blows, without helmet or armour. ' It is Montfort/ they cry. To that
shout succeeded u long murmur. ' Aye, traitors/ he exclaimed, ' my name
alone, is a barrier to you. Fly from hence !' He spoke thus indignant — •
pale with wrath, and waved in the air his formidable sword, still reeking

60 THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE.

with the blood in which he had steeped it — he strikes at the mob. An
emissary from the Divinity would have seemed less terrible to the
affrighted people. But Procida appears, and the stupified multitude
reassured by his voice, precipitate themselves forward, and surround
Montford. Loredan forced on by the parental authority of Procida, fol-
lows him speechless with dismay. I saw our citizens, worked up by
their fury, massacre each other, and they did so in the name of their
country; I even heard the priest, as he stumbled over the ruins made by
the havoc, a cross in his hand, utter curses, while he slew. The cries of
the victors and the vanquished, are confounded together ; the echoes from
subterranean tombs respond. The fate of the conflict still rests in suspense,
when night overshadows us with its wings of darkness. I lose my
way among the assassins, and in uncertainty I seek the palace. I pro-
ceed stealthily. Oh ! what heaps of dead and dying ! Is another day
to cast its light over that horrible picture ? May the sun avoid us. May
this sanguinary night hide from the whole world, the crimes it has en-
gendered."

The "Paria1' is among the most popular of M. de laVigne's plays,
and is, we think, his most graceful production. The scene of this tragedy
is at Benares in India, among the Bramins. The story is this :

Idamoro, one of the outcast people called Parias, has quitted, in search
of worldly adventure and advancement, his father, by whom he is ten-
derly beloved. He becomes a great warrior with the Bramin nation,
and their leader in a hundred victorious battles. The fact of his being
a Paria is unknown to them, and their high priest Akbar resolves to give
him for wife his daughter, Neala, whose affection Idamoro has already
secretly won. Unwilling to deceive his mistress, when about to wed
her, Idamoro announces to her his belonging to a tribe that is accursed.
She is at first horrified, but her love at length prevails, and she still
consents to espouse him. As the nuptials are about to take place,
Idamoro's aged father, Zares, comes in search of his long lost son : he
discovers him in the successful conqueror, and implores him to return
with him to their own country,[to prevent his dying of grief. Idamoro
promises to do so, but unable to quit his bride, he delays and permits
the wedding to proceed, on Ne*ala's agreeing to fly with them when it is
over. In the mean time Zares is recognized as a Paria, is seized, and
about to be put to death, when Idamoro declares himself a Paria also, and
offers himself in the place of his father as a greater victim. The indig-
nant and enraged Bramins accept the proposal. Idamoro is led to
execution, but, while on the way thither, he and his constant companion
Alvar, a Portuguese Christian, whom he has captured, and made his de-
voted friend, are stoned to death by the people. Ne*ala, on hearing his
fate avows her previous knowledge of his being a Paria, and she is sen-
tenced to banishment : she departs with the aged Zares, whom she
determines to accompany to his own home in lieu of the son he has lost.

The whole of this tragedy is very skilfully constructed, according to
classic rules. The language is throughout poetic, and some parts dis-
play great spirit and harmony. The deaths of Idamoro and his Christian
friend Alvar, are finely described : the following is the literal translation
of the passage.

THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE. 6l

"The people rush forward to demand their prey, mingling cries of fury
with shouts of joy. Idamoro appears haughty, yet his look is serene j
he divides the crowd, walks majestically among them, and seems still to
lead us, and to exhibit within our walls, as in the days of his glory, the
pride of victory. His friend, that captive foeman tolerated amongst us
as long as the unworthy chieftain himself beheld us at his feet — the
Christian Alvar, who awaited him, rushes to his side. We take our
ranks in mournful silence, whilst the Christian, prolonging his adieux,
importuned our looks with a scene of blameable compassion. As to
Idamoro, the very last accents of his sacrilegious voice braved, as he
walked, the procession that led him to his death. 'Hasten!' he ex-
claimed, ' what Bramin, or what warrior reserves to himself the honour
of striking me the first ?' When he passed near the spot where from
the height of our walls his armed hand had sent death amongst our foes ;
' Choose for my place of slaughter/ he cried, ' these rocks with which
I used to crush your terror-struck enemies.' The people waxes in-
dignant at the taunt. In their prompt justice they meditate and adopt
a second punishment for this new offence. Their irritation increases as
they proceed, and they prelude with insults the massacre of Alvar.
Idamoro stops when he hears their menacing voices. The bravest recoil
with terror 5 when, from all directions a thousand avenging arms hurl
upon him the fragments of stone that lie scattered in the dust. A
perfect cloud of missiles arises : it breaks and bursts forth with loud
din and tempestuous force upon his breast, and around his head. Ida-
moro protects his friend, embraces him, and opposes in vain his bosom
and his arm against the blow intended for Alvar. The meek Christian
who prays while he falls, fixed an eye of love on the cross, the powerless
symbol of his idolatry, invokes it, and, his countenance radiant with hope,
drops at the feet of Idamoro, while pointing out the heavens to his friend.
The insensate Idamoro now standing alone, weak and nearly lifeless,
still fronts us amid the storm, — with a brow of defiance he still proteots
Alvar, — then grows faint — falls overcome, and while dying covers with
his own mutilated body the corpse of his friend."

Alexander Soumet, a thorough poet in tone and thought has
written some superb classic dramas : among others may be men-
tioned "Cleopatra," "Norma," " Clytemnestre," and "Jeanne d'Arc.*'
Of these " Norma " has been immortalised by the genius of Bellini, and
" Jeahne d'Arc '' is rendered famous by the character of the heroine
being a favourite performance of Mile. Rachel. Yet the romantic sub-
ject of Joan of Arc is so little suited to the narrow limits of the classic
stage, that this tragedy, despite of beautiful verse and acting, hangs hea-
vily in representation : to exhibit the varied fortunes of the Pucelle
without changing the scene, and without extending the time beyond a
day, is an undertaking that must necessarily mar the interest of the
story.

One of the latest writers of classic tragedy is M. Latour de Saint Ybars,
and he is at the same time one of the best. His " Virginie" is an ex-
quisite production : its fame is closely connected with that of Mile.
Rachel : the inherent worth of the play, and her admirable impersonation
of Virginia, have secured to its frequent repetition delight and admiration.
The tragedy opens with the prayer of Virginia to the household gods,
which is replete with classic grace, and feeling. The following is a ver-
sion of it :

62 THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE.

ACT I. SCENEI. — Virginia comes from her chamber ; she carries in her hands,
with religious fervor, the violet crowns and the cup containing the sacred
grain : she strews the grain upon the altar of the domestic gods> and places
the crowns upon their heads.

Virginia. — " Household Gods, you who watch over domestic peace, I
cmoe according to ancient custom to invoke you. Oh ! deign to re-
ceive my gifts j I bring to your altar, crowns of flowers, and pure offer-
ings of salt and grain. For, O Gods domestic! protectors of my
childhood ; you, it is who have acted in my defence in every danger.
Behold now, those other divinities who foster love, are withdrawing me
for ever from the paternal roof. Oh ! Penates, adopt my new found
family, and guide my footsteps towards that future which my heart re-
veals. I quit with regret your modest altar and its calm retreat. My
hope of happiness is great. Yet, I weep in offering you this last
oblation, while I feel that I soon must quit this spot. Oh, household
divinities ! accept my farewell. To my father, above all, grant some share
of comfort, so that the thread of his existence may be one of silk inter-
woven with gold. I think with sorrow of how he will return alone this
evening, and seat himself solitary and silent at his hearth. Bounteous
Gods, if his virtue move you, drive pallid -visaged sleeplessness and
weariness from his couch. May days of happiness linked one to
the other come to him in place of the remembrance of sorrows
that he must forget for ever. Dear tokens of happiness, — sweet gifts,
render me more handsome in my lover's eyes — more worthy of his faith.
Ye Gods of Hymen, put in this veil of the priestly Flamen some sovereign

charm to captivate Icilius' soul This day then, in a few short

moments I give myself as a wife to the object of my love. Icilius
pleases me, and men admire and extol him ; yet my very happiness
troubles me and makes me fearful. Explain to me this strange sen-
sation of my heart. This day am I to become the mistress of his
house, and yet I tremble for Icilius. Oh, pardon me, my beloved, I,
who doat on thee, do thee offence by this tremor : still I feel as if I
would willingly return to my childhood."

In a former number of " the Patrician," when noticing the acting of
Mile. Rachel at the St. James's Theatre, we contrasted this tragedy of
Virginia with the romantic play of " Virginius" by Sheridan Knowles .-
we still scarcelyknow to which to give the preference. M. Latour's work,
however, next to Talfourd's Ion, is certainly the nearest modern assimi-
lation to the dramas of antiquity.

In conclusion, the observations of Augustus Schlegel on the trage-
dies of France in former times, are so applicable to its modern classic
drama, that we cannot do better than here extract the passage from his
lectures.

" To comprise," says 'M. Schlegel, " what I have hitherto observed in
a few words : the French have endeavoured to form their tragedy accord-
ing to a strict idea ; but instead of this they have merely hit upon an
abstract notion. They require tragical dignity and grandeur, tragical
situations, passions, and pathos, altogether naked and pure without any
foreign appendages. From stripping them in this way of their accom-
paniments they lose much in truth, profundity, and character ; and the
whole composition is deprived of the living charm of variety, the magic
of picturesque situations, and of all those overpowering effects which

THE DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE. 63

can only be produced by the increase of objects under a voluntary
abandonment after easy and gradual preparation. With respect to the
theory of the tragic art, they are yet nearly at the point in which they
were in gardening in the time of Lenotre. The whole merit consists in
extorting a triumph from nature by means of art. They have no other
idea of regularity than the measured symmetry of straight alleys, clipt
hedges, &c. In vain should we labour to make those who lay out such
gardens comprehend that there can be any plan, any concealed order in
an English park, and demonstrate to them that a succession of landscapes,
which from their gradation, their alteration, and their opposition, give
effect to each other, all aim at exciting in us a certain disposition of
mind."

Mile. Rachel, by the mere force of her genius, may, during her bril-
liant career, retain the ascendancy of the classic drama; but the spirit
of Shakespeare, once admitted, must eventually prevail among the French
— a people more than any other of such lively intellect, and romantic
imagination.

MAYORS' OFFICIAL PREFIX.

There appears to be a little confusion as to the proper style to be used in
the official addresses of mayors of corporate towns ; sometimes we see them
described as the " Right Worshipful/' and at others the "Worshipful."
The question is, which is correct ? There being no particular law or regula-
tion, that we are aware of, in such a case, beyond custom, it seems not
inappropriate to enquire whether the custom could not now be rendered
more uniform, by the universal adoption of one or other of these additions,
whichever may be considered to be the right one. In the " Secretary's
Guide," 5th ed., 1831, p. 95, it is stated that Mayors of all Corporations,
with the Sheriffs, Aldermen, and Recorder of London, are styled the " Right
Worshipful," and the Aldermen and Recorder of other Corporations, and
Justices of the Peace, " Worshipful." An opinion is entertained, we believe
by some, that only mayors of cities should be styled " Right Worshipful,"
and those of towns " Worshipful ;" but there scarcely seems to be any valid
reason for such a distinction, and we incline to think that the former is more
correctly applicable to mayors in general. The term " Right," in matters
of title, denotes a more exalted step than another, — thus, we speak of the
" Most," and " Right," honorable or reverend, as a degree in rank higher
than merely " Honourable" or " Reverend." We observe also that it is the
practice in London to style the aldermen who have passed the chair, the
" Right Worshipful," and those below the chair as the " Worshipful" only,
although all are equally magistrates ; thus, making a distinction between
those who have been mayors, and those who have not. If the recorder,
justices, and aldermen of corporate towns are properly entitled to the style
of " Worshipful," it seems to be only reasonable and proper that the chief
magistrate or mayor, should be styled the "Right Worshipful ;" and we
think it advisable that the latter prefix should be generally adopted and sus-
tained in future, in all places the cause for it may exist. The Mayors of
London, York, and Dublin, it is well known possess the title of " Lord,"
and are addressed as the " Right Honourable."

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

ROBERT COOKE, ESQ., CALLED " LINEN COOKE."

IN p. 254 of our 2nd vol., we gave our readers an account of Valentine
Greatreakes, Esq., of the co. Waterford, whose extraordinary history forms
such a remarkable feature in the art of healing. A correspondent has
now enabled us to add to the pedigree of that family, a name which
was then omitted, namely, Captain William Greatreakes, of Affane, who was
brother to the celebrated Valentine, known by the appellation of ''The
Stroker." This Captain William had a daughter, Anne, who was wife
of William Cooke, Esq., of Camphire, in the co. Waterford. She died
the 10th August, 1740. Her husband, William Cooke, was a younger son
of Robert, of Cappoquin, in the same county, whose eldest son was
Robert Cooke, Esq., also of Cappoquin, commonly called " Linen Cooke."
William, who was an Alderman and Mayor of Youghall, and who^died^lst
June, 1 742, had by his aforesaid wife, a son, Josiah, who died 7th Decem-
ber, 1754, having been married to Miss Baggs, by whom he was father of
Robin Cooke, who having served in the 2nd Battalion of the Royals with
the British Army in North America, was the first to enter the breach
at Moro, in the Havannah, for which, on his return home, he was publicly
entertained, and received the freedom of the City of Glasgow. The Muni-
cipal Act conferring the freedom is now in the possession of his descendant,
Thomas Wigmore, Esq., of Bally vaddock, co. Cork. Robin m. a lady of
the O'Brien family, of the co. Limerick, by whom he had an only child,
Mary, who was b. in 1772, and m. in 1787, Henry Wigmore, Esq., of
Ballyvaddock. As connected with the celebrated Valentine Greatreakes,
let us now revert to an equally remarkable personage, Robert, alias
" Linen" Cooke, before mentioned, to have resided at Cappoquin, in the
same county Waterford. This Robert Cooke was a very eccentric and
wealthy gentleman, and had several estates in both England and Ireland.
His first wife was a Bristol lady, and in consequence of his visits to that
city he caused a pile of stones to be erected on a rock in the Bristol
Channel, which after him was called " Cooke's Folly." The name of his
second wife was Cecilia or Cecily, and he had children, John of Youghall,
Robert, Josiah, and two daughters. He fled to England in the troubles of
James the Second's reign, and resided sometimes at Ipswich, in Suffolk, as is
related by Archbishop King, in his State of the Irish Protestants. During
his absence, the Parliament held at Dublin, 7th May, 1 689, declared him to
be attainted as a traitor if he failed in returning to Ireland by the 1st of
September following. He died in 1726, upwards of eighty years of age, and
by his will directed that he should be interred with his son John's family, in
the Cathedral or Church called " Tempul," in Youghall, and that his shroud
should be made " of linen," Amongst other particularities he had his coach
drawn by white horses and their harness made of hemp and linen. His
cows were also white. In Smith's History of the county Waterford, this
Robert Cooke is reckoned amongst the remarkable personages of that
county, and a long account given of him. Smith says of him, " He was a
kind of Pythagorean philosopher, and for many years before his death eat

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 65

neither fish, flesh, butter, nor drank milk or any fermented liquor, nor wore
woollen clothes or any other produce of an animal." From his constantly
wearing none but linen garments and using linen generally for other pur-
poses he acquired the appellation, " Linen Cooke." He maintained a long
controversy with the celebrated Athenian Society, and in 1 69 1 published a
curious explanation of his peculiar religious principles, supporting them by
numerous texts from Scripture, and at the end of all was printed a long
prayer. It is from Captain Thomas Cooke, an uncle of this " Linen Cooke,"
that the family of Cooke or Cooke- Collis, now settled at Castle Cooke, co.
Cork, derives its descent, and from another uncle, Edward Cooke, the
families of Kiltynan, Cordangan, and Fortwilliam, &c., in the co. Tipperary,
and of Parsonstown, in the King's county, are descended.

A PROMISE FULFILLED.

Lady Elizabeth D'Arcy, the fair and richly portioned daughter of
Thomas, Earl Rivers, was wooed by three suitors at the same time ; and
the knights, as in chivalry bound, were disposed to contest the prize with
targe and lance ; but the lady forbade the battle, and menaced disobedience
with her eternal displeasure, promising, however, jocularly, that if they had
but patience, she would have them all in their turn; and she literally
fulfilled her promise, for she married, first, Sir George Trenchard of
Wolverton, who left her a widow at seventeen ; secondly, Sir John Gage of
Firle ; and, thirdly, Sir William Hervey of Ickworth ; — the three original
claimants for her hand.

THE FAMOUS LADY CAVENDISH.

The Noble House of Cavendish is indebted to the third wife of Sir
William Cavendish, the faithful friend of Wolsey, for the principal part of
its vast possessions. That lady, the daughter and co-heir of John Hard-
wick of Hardwick, erected three of the most splendid seats ever built by a
single person, — Chatsworth, Hardwick, and Oldcotes. She was four times
married; 1st, to Robert Barley, Esq., of Barley; 2dly, to Sir William
Cavendish ; 3rdly, to Sir William St. Loo ; and 4thly, to George, Earl of
Shrewsbury. " She prevailed," says Lodge, " upon the first of these
gentlemen, who died without issue, to settle his estate upon her and
her heirs, who were abundantly produced from her second marriage. Her
third husband, who was very rich, was led by her persuasions to make a
similar disposition of his fortune, to the utter prejudice of his daughters by
a former wife ; and now, unsated with the wealth and caresses of three
husbands, she finished her conquests by marrying the Earl of Shrewsbury,
the richest and most powerful peer of his time. To sum up her character,
she was a woman of masculine understanding and conduct, proud, furious,
selfish, and unfeeling. She was a builder, a buyer, and seller of estates, a
money lender, a farmer, and a merchant of lead, coals, and timber. She
lived to a great old age, and died in 1607, immensely rich.

FAMILY OF RUDYERD.

To the Editor of the Patrician.
Sir,
I subscribe to the " Patrician," and on casting my eye over the recent

VOL IV. NO. XV. F

66 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

list of presentations at Court, I read the name of Rudyerd; it occurred to
me that it was worthy some little notice, as being of a family whose pedi-
gree can be traced as far back as 1030, (I possess one) and as you give a
short account of many of the families, leave it to your better judgment as
to inserting the following, or any other that may be in your possession.
And am Sir,

Yours obediently,

The family of Rudyerd, of Rudyerd, one of considerable importance, was
settled in the parish of Leek, co. Stafford, long prior to the Norman Conquest ;
evidence whereof may be found in Doomsday book and other records of the
pure Saxon origin. One of the family, Richard, accompanied Richard
CoBur de Lion to the Crusades, where he distinguished himself. Rudulphus,
Lord of Rudyerd, living in the reign of Henry VII., joined Lord Stanley
with a large body of men at the battle of Bosworth, and tradition in
the family says he was the person who slew the King. Henry VII. on this
occasion added to the arms — on a canton a rose or in a field gules.

In later years (1708), one Mr. John Rudyerd planned and erected the
Eddystone Lighthouse, a fabric admirably adapted to resist the elements it
had to oppose, and stood the test of nearly fifty years, until destroyed by
fire 2nd December, 1755.

Sir Benjamin Rudyerd, Judge and Surveyor of the Court of Ward and
Liveries in the time of Charles and Oliver, of Westwoodhay, co. Berks,
Knt., was called to the bar at the age of twenty-six, married Mary, dau. of Sir
Henry Harrington, and left issue an only son, Wm. Rudyerd, who married
Sarah, one of the five daughters and coheiresses of Sir Stephen Harvey,
of Melton Maler, co. Northampton, left issue an only son, Benjamin
Rudyerd, who married Dorothy, one of the two daughters and coheiresses
of Sir Benjamin Maddox, Bart,, of Wormleybury, co. Herts, by Dorothy,
his wife, sole heir of Sir William Glascock, of King's Langley, same co.,
Knt. Master of the Court of Requests to King Chas. II., &c. By THIS first
marriage Mr. B. Rudyerd had several children ; the elder, Robert, married
Jane, only daughter and heiress of the Hon. Mrs. Chaplin; left issue
Benjamin Rudyerd, Captain Coldstream Guards, who died unmarried in
Nova Scotia, 1752. By the second marriage of Mr. B. Rudyerd to Miss
Beamont, of Yorkshire, descended the late Richard Rudyerd of Whitby, in
same co., who married Miss Yeomans, but died witout issue, and his
brothers, the late General Rudyerd of the Royal Engineers, who married
Mary, daughter of S. Pryer, Esq., of Lichfield, Hants, an ancient family ;
the General died in 1828, aged 88, whose surviving issue is Col. Rudyerd
of the Royal Artillery (who from his distinguished services at Waterloo,
&c., was lately promoted to the superintendence of the Royal Reposi-
tory at Woolwich, and presented at court, 24th February, 1847). Charles
Lennox Rudyerd, late paymaster of the Ardean Canal, Canada ; and
a daughter, Lsetitia, married 1st, Robert Gordon of Xeres, Esq., by
whom had issue a daughter, married — Baxter, Esq., late Attorney
General at Sidney, N. S. Wales, and secondly Christopher Richardson of
Field House, Whitby, Yorkshire. The two sons, who died before their
father the General, were Col. William, of the Engineers, and Capt. Henry,
of the East India Company, both leaving issue, and followed for a time
the family profession of arms.

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

THE LONDON RECLUSE.

A correspondent favours us with the following pedigree of the family of
Henry Welby, Esq. of Goxhill, the London recluse, whose eccentric career
we described in a former number.

Ellen Hall, =f Adlard Welby, Esq.
1st -wife. ( d. 1571.

of Gedney ,=f=Cassandra,
2nd wife.

HenryW'elby,Esq.=
of Goxhill, the
great Recluse of
Grub Street,Lon-
don, d. 29 Oct.
1636, £et. 84.

pAlice dau. of Ad- Rev. BasilWelby, SirWm. Wel-=i
Thos. White, lard, who shot at his by,of Gedney
Esq. of Wood- brother Henry, Knt. of the
head, in Rut- with intent to Most Noble
land, and of kill him ; he was Order of the
Tuxford, Notts, a dissolute cha- Bath, (late of
by Anne, his racter. Gedney,
wife, (sister of 1631.)
Lord Burleigh.)

Elizabeth ,=
an only
child.

=Sir Christopher William Welby ,=
Hildyard, of Esq. son & heir
Wynestead, of Sir William
Knt. d. 1636. Welby, late of
Gedney, deceas-
ed, d. 11 Dec., 8
Charles I. 1632.

=Anne Smithe,(dau. Vin- Philip,
of George Smythe, cent, of Ged-
Esq. of the city of brother ney,
London, citizen and of Wm. Esq.
alderman,) survived 1631. 1635.
her husband, and
in 1635 was the
wife of Francis
Vernon,Esq. of the
city of London.

Henry Hildyard,=f
of East Horsley,
in Surrey, Esq.
d. Jan. 1674.

^Lady Ann Leake, Sir
dau. of Francis, 1st Robert,
Baron d'Eyncourt, d. 1685.
of Sutton, and Earl
ofScarsdale.

Chris- Ed- Philip. Chas. Adlard
topher, ward. Welby,
d.1694. 1655.

Dorothy, dau. of Thomas Gran-=j=Henry Hildyard, Esq.of Kel-=j=Elizabeth, dau. of
tham, Esq. of Goltho, d. 1667- stern in Lincoln, d. abroad. John Hilder, Esq.
1st wife. 2nd wife.

Christopher Hild-=
yard,the son of Hen.
Hildyard, of Kel-
stern, and the grand-
son and heir at law,
of Henry Hildyard,
of East Horsley,
and Lady Ann
Leke, his wife.

=Jane, dau. Wm. Ann. Fran- Thos. Mi- William, Richd.
of George cis. chael. d. 1691. d. 1695.
Pitt, of
Strathfield-
saye, ances-
tor of Lord
Rivers. [

Ann.~Birch. Jane.=John Mar- Dorothy, survived and=f George Clay- Elizabeth,
shall. afterwards m. to her j ton, cf Great d. unm.
second husband, Ralph Grimsby.
Tennyson, of Great I
Grimsby.

Christopher Clayton, Esq. of Great
Grimsby, d.s.p. 1795, nephew Geo.
Tennyson, his executor. I

David. Eliza =r=Michael Ann. Jonathan,
beth. I Tennyson,

b c

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

Georsre Tennyson, Esq. of Bayons Manor ,=f Mary Turner, dau of John

_. J __ . w • i Jl m _ __ ~C /~i«I«<^— .

and Usselby Hall, co
heir.

•T

Lincoln, son and Turner, of Caistor.

bed

I I I
Daughters.

Rev. George =
Clayton Ten-
nyson, D.D.
deceased.

=Elizabeth, dau.
of the Rev. Ste-
phen Fytche.

The Rt. Hon.=f
Charles Ten-
nyson, d'Eyn-
court, M.P.
of Bayons
Manor and
Usselby Hall,
co. Lancaster.

=Frances Mary, Eliza-=i
only child of beth.
Rev.John Hut-
ton, of Morton
nearGainsbro*.

=Matthew
Russell,
Esq. of
Brance-
peth
Castle.

Charles Tennyson Tur- Alfred
ner, Esq. of Caistor, Tenny-
assumed the name of son,
Turner, under the will the
of his uncle the Rev. Poet.
Samuel Turner, of
Caistor.

Other George Hild- Other Wm. Rus- Emma Ma-
issue, yard, eldest issue. sell,Esq. of ria, m. the
son and heir Brance- Hon. Gus-
apparent. - peth. tavus Fre-
derick
Hamilton.

A CURIOUS TRADITION.

In a letter from Dr. Brett to Dr. Warren, president of Trinity-hall, Cam-
bridge, dated September 1, 1723, it is said, that about Michaelmas, 1720,
the doctor went to pay a visit to Heneage, Earl of Winchelsea, at Eastwell-
house, where that nobleman shewed him an entry in the parish register,
which the doctor transcribed immediately into his almanack ; it stood thus :
" 1550, Richard Plantagenet was buryed the 22 daye of December." The
register did not mention whether he was buried in the church or church-
yard, nor could any memorial be retrived of him, except the tradition pre-
served in the family, and some remains of his house. The story of this
man, as it was related by the Earl of Winchelsea, is thus : — When Sir
Thomas Moyle built Eastwell-house, he observed, that when his chief brick-
layer left off work, he retired with a book. Sir Thomas had a great curiosity
to know what book the man read ; but was some time before he could dis-
cover it, he always putting the book up if any one came towards him. A t
last, however, Sir Thomas surprised him, and snatched the book from him,
and looking upon it, found it to be Latin : hereupon he examined him, and
finding he pretty well understood that language, enquired how he came by his
learning ? On which the man told him, as he had been a good master to
him, he would venture to trust him with a secret he had never before revealed.
He then informed him, that he was boarded with a Latin schoolmaster, with-
out knowing who his parents were, till he was fifteen or sixteen years old ;
only a gentleman who took occasion to acquaint him he was no relation to
him, came once a quarter and paid for his board, and took care to see that
he wanted for nothing ; and one day this gentleman took him, and carried
him to a fine great house, where he passed through several stately rooms, in
one of which he left him, bidding him to stay there ; then a man finely
dressed, with a star and garter, came to him, asked him some questions,
talked kindly to him, and gave him some money ; then the forementioned
gentleman returned and conducted him back to his school. Some time after,
the same gentleman came to him again with a horse, and proper accoutre-

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. by

ments, and told him he must take a journey with him into the country.
They then went into Leicestershire, and came to Bosworth Field, and he was
carried to Richard the Third's tent. The king embraced him, and told him
he was his son. "But child," said he, "to-morrow I must fight for my
crown, and assure yourself if I lose that, I will lose my life too, but I hope to
preserve both. Do you stand in such a place, (directing him to a particular
place) where you may see the battle out of danger, and when I have gained
the victory, come to me. I will then own you to be mine, and take care of
you ; but if I should be unfortunate as to lose the battle, then shift as well
as you can, and take care to let nobody know I arn your father, for no mercy
will be shown to any one so nearly related to me." Then the king gave
him a purse of gold, and dismissed him. He followed the king's directions,
and when he saw the battle was lost, and the king killed, he hastened to Lon-
don, sold his horse and fine clothes, &nd the better to conceal himself from
all suspicion of being the son of a king, and that he might have the means to
live by his honest labour, he put himself apprentice to a bricklayer, but having
a competent skill in the Latin tongue, he was unwilling to lose it, and having
an inclination to reading, and no delight in the conversation of those he was
obliged to work with, he generally spent all the time he had to spare in
reading by himself. Sir Thomas said, " you are now old, and almost past
your labour, and I will give you the running of my kitchen as long as you
live." He answered, " Sir, you have a numerous family ; I have been used
to live retired ; give me leave to build a house of one room for myself in
such a field, and there, with your good leave I will live and die ; and if you
have any work that I can do for you, I shall be ready to serve you. Sir
Thomas granted his request ; he built his house, and there continued to his
death. This Richard Plantagenet must have lived to the age of 81, for the
battle of Bosworth was fought the 22d of August, 1485, at which time hp
was between fifteen and sixteen.

PASTORALE DE' ZAMPOGNARL*

Quanno nascette Ninno a Betelemme,

Era notte, e parea miezo juorno ;

Maje li stelle

Lustere e belle

Se vedetteno accussi

La chiti lucente

Tettea chiammk li Magi in Oriente.

* One of those little moral hymns which the Zampognari or pipers, from the Abruzzi
and Calabrian mountains, sing before the images of the Virgin at the corners of the streets
in Rome and Naples at the season of Advent, accompanied by the^ sound of their rustic
bagpipes.

70 PASTORAL DE' ZAMPOGNARI.

No' ncerano nemice ppe la terra,
« La pecora pasua co lo Hone,
Co lii crapette
Se vedette

Lu liopardo pazzia —
L' urzo co vitrello
E co lo lupo 'ripace u pecoriello.

Guardavano le pecore li pasture

E 1'Angelo gbrannente chiti de lu sole

Comparette

E li dicette,

Non ve spaventate, n6 ;

Contento e riso

La terra £ arreventata Paravuo.

When Christ in Bethlehem was born,

Twas night, but seemed the noon of day,

Each shining star

In heaven afar,

Shed o'er the earth its lightest ray j

But one than all the rest more bright

Guided the Eastern Magi onward by its pure and golden light.

Then o'er the world reigned Peace and Love ;

1 he lion and the simple sheep,

The pard and kid

Together feed,

Or o'er the lawns securely sleep ;

The wolf and lamb, the calf and bear,

Repose in safety each, nor seek the forest's dark and leafy lair.

The Shepherds as they watched their flocks,
A sunlike angel saw descend,
Who sweetly said,
" Be not dismayed,
With joyful tidings here I wend !
For Earth puts on her loveliest guise,

And shines in heavenly beauty now, transformed anew to Paradise,"

E. KENEALY.

TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT,

3 THE HIGH-ROAD AND THE RAIL-ROAD.

No. I. THE HIGH-ROAD.

IN these days of perpetual motion, when not only the loyal lieges "of our
sovereign lady, but the good citizens of the world beside, are making such
marvellous efforts to subdue time and space, it may be found as instructive
as it is obviously pertinent to institute comparison between the present —
and those good old times " all times, when old, are good" — wherein your
honest country gentleman deemed it prudent to devise his lands and tene-
ments, and otherwise adjust his mundane affairs, ere he perilled life and
limb, by coach or waggon, athwart that dreary stretch of country which lay
between the great cities of York and London : by coach or waggon, we say,
for the bold baron and his noble dame, of some centuries before, on steed
and palfrey, scorning all other canopies but that of heaven, come not within
the range of our similitude, maugre they flourished, like ourselves, in Iron
Times. The wife of Bath, whose praise it was that— t

" Girt with a pair of sporres sharpe,
Upon an ambler esily she sat/

would doubtless have felt herself insulted, had a carriage been selected for
her use. At a time when roads were scarcely passable, the palfrey and the
litter were the only modes of ladies' conveyance ; and even after the intro-
duction of coaches, the use of litters continued both in England and France.
In 1527, when Wolsey visited the latter kingdom to negotiate a peace, we
find that the dame regent, the king's mother, entered Amiens, " riding in a
very riche chariot ; and with her therein was the Queen of Navarre, her
daughter, furnished with a hundred and more of ladies and gentlewomen
following, every one riding upon a white palfrie ; besides diverse and many
ladies, some in riche horse-litters, and some in chariots." The king, though
attired with the utmost magnificence, according to the military spirit of the
age, rode into the city on a " goodly genet."

Stowe asserts that, " in the year 1564, Guilliam Boonen, a Dutchman,
became the queene's coachman, and was the first that brought the use of
coaches into England." The first engraved representation of an English
coach is probably to be found in the fine old print of the Palace of Nonsuch,
by Hoemagel, which bears the date of 1582. Queen Elizabeth is there
seated in a low heavy machine, open at the sides, with a canopy, and drawn
by two horses only. Her attendants follow in a carriage of different form,
with an oblong canopy.

Mary, Queen of Scots, whilst under the surveillance of the Earl of
Shrewsbury, appears to have travelled on horseback in her various journeys,
and about the year 1640, the Countess of Cumberland, in a tedious transit
from London to Londesborough, which occupied eleven days, either from
the state of the roads, or from a distaste to metropolitan luxuries, seems to
have ridden the whole way on horseback. In the correspondence of Sir
George Radcliffe, we have many proofs of the serious inconvenience that

72 TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT.

attended travellers in the early part of the 17th century ; and the following
is a curious instance of the simplicity of manners prevalent at the period.
The editor observes — "at this time (1609) the communication between the
north of England and the Universities was kept up by carriers, who pur-
sued their tedious but uniform route with whole trains of pack-horses. To
their care was consigned not only the packages, but frequently the persons
of young scholars. It was through their medium, also, that epistolary cor-
respondence was managed, and, as they always visited London, a letter could
scarcely be exchanged between Yorkshire and Oxford in less time than a
month." From a passage in one of the Paston letters, written about the
close of the loth century, we find that few opportunities occurred of trans-
mitting letters from London to Norwich, except through the agency of
persons who frequented the fairs held in the latter city- In the south of
England, at a period long subsequent, the state of the public roads appears
to have been equally defective, and convenience in travelling almost wholly
neglected. In Dec. 1703, Charles, King of Spain, slept at Petworth, on
his way from Portsmouth to Windsor, and Prince George of Denmark went
to meet him there. " We set out" (as one of the attendants relates) " at
six o'clock in the morning to go for Petworth, and did not get out of the
coaches (save only when we were overturned or stuck fast in the mire) till
we arrived at our journey's end. 'Twas hard service for the Prince to sit
fourteen hours in the coach that day without eating anything, and passing
through the worst ways that I ever saw in my life ; we were thrown but
once indeed, in going, but both our coach, which was the leading, and his
Highness's body coach, would have suffered very often, if the nimble boors
of Sussex had not frequently poised it or supported it with their shoulders
from Godalmin almost to Petworth ; and the nearer we approached to the
Duke's house, the more unaccessible it seemed to be. The last nine miles
of the way cost us six hours to conquer them, and indeed we had never
done it, if our good master had not several times lent us a pair of horses
out of his own coach, whereby we were enabled to trace out the way for
him ; they made us believe that the several grounds we crost, and his
Grace's park, would alleviate the fatigue ; but I protest 1 could hardly per-
ceive any difference between them and the common roads."

In the time of Charles, surnamed the Proud, Duke of Somerset, who died
in 1 748, the roads in Sussex were in so bad a state, that in order to arrive
at Guildford from Petworth, persons were obliged to make for the nearest
point of the great road leading from Portsmouth to London. This was a
work of so much difficulty as to occupy the whole day, and the duke had a
house at Guildford which was regularly occupied as a resting-place for the
night by any part of his family travelling to London. A MS. letter from
a servant of the Duke's, dated from London, and addressed to another at
Petworth, acquaints the latter that his Grace intended to go from London
thither on a certain day, and directs that " the keepers and persons who
knew the holes and the sloughs, must come to meet his Grace with lanthorns
and long poles to help him on his way."

The precise period at which a stage-coach first appeared upon the road,
it is difficult to determine ;* but we have good authority for assigning the
latter part of the reign of Charles I. as the probable date : certain it is, that

* Coaches for hire were first established in 1625, and amounted at that time to
twenty. They stood at the principal inns, and were called " Hackney Coaches," from
their being first used to travel betwixt London and Hackney.

TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT. 73

although in 1662 there were but six public carriages, the number had so in-
creased in a few years after, that one John Crossell, of the Charter House,
then one of the wise men of the East, tried his best to write down the new-
system. He had, it is conjectured, the countenance of the country squires,
who dreaded that the facility and cheapness of travelling would too often
induce their dames arid daughters to visit the metropolis, and unfit them for
the homely pleasures of the Hall and the Grange. The tradesmen, too, in
and near London, took it into their heads to consider the existence of such
vehicles a public evil, and, in a spirit very much akin to that which has ex-
isted in our own times, petitioned King Charles II. and the Privy Council to
put an end to the " stage coach nuisance ;" but the result of this petition
against so important a public convenience was as unsuccessful as every si-
milar attempt made by the few against the welfare of the many must ever
ultimately be.

The improvement in coach travelling made slow progress during the next
half-century. The novels of Fielding and Smollet afford amusing and
graphic details of the stages and waggons of their day ; but the pencil of
Hogarth, will best exhibit the strange contrast there existed between the
lumbering vehicle of the reign of George I., and the dashing equipage that,
in the time of his fourth successor, accomplished the distance between Lon-
don and Brighton within five hours. In 1 742 the Oxford stage-coach left town
at seven o'clock in the morning, and reached Uxbridge at midday. It ar-
rived at High Wycombe at five in the evening, where it rested for the night,
and proceeded at the same rate for the seat of learning on the morrow.
Here then were ten hours consumed each day in passing over twenty- seven
miles, and nearly two days in performing what is now accomplished in as
many hours. Thirty years ago, the Holyhead mail left London, via Oxford,
at eight o'clock at night, and arrived in Shrewsbury between ten and eleven
the following night, being twenty-seven hours to one hundred and sixty-two
miles. This distance was done without the least difficulty, in 1832, in six-
teen hours and a quarter. At that period, and for the five or six following
years, stage-coach travelling attained in this country most astonishing per-
fection. Competition had reduced charges to their lowest level, and brought
elegance, comfort, and expedition to their highest. The great Northern,
the Western, the Oxford, and the Brighton roads were covered with splen-
did public conveyances. On the last, no less than twenty-live ran during
the summer. The fastest were the Red Rover, the Age, and the Telegraph,
all horsed in the most admirable manner, and driven in many instances by
men of rank and education. The Edinburgh mail performed the distance,
400 miles, in forty hours ; and one might have set his watch by it at any
point of the journey. The Exeter day coach, the Herald, ran over her
ground, 173 miles, both hilly and difficult, in twenty hours; the Diligence
from Paris to Calais requiring, for the same distance, forty-eight hours in
summer, and from fifty to sixty in winter.

Thus it was, before steam, with its irresistible power, came to revolutionise
the travelling world, that we journeyed through the picturesque scenery of
our own beautiful island, enjoying the rural comforts of its road-side hostel-
ries, admiring its ancient cities, and priding ourselves on the industry and
bustle of its manufacturing towns. How spiritedly does Boz recall to our
recollection the departed glory of the turnpike road. " The coach was none
of your steady- going, yokel coaches, but a swaggering, rakish, disreputable,
London coach ; up all night, and lying by all day, and leading a devil of a
life. It cared no more for Salisbury than if it had been a hamlet. It

74 TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT.

rattled noisily through tfie best streets, defied the cathedral, took the worst
corners sharpest, went cutting in every where, making every thing get out
of its way ; and spun along the open country road, blowing a lively defiance
out of its key bugle, as its last glad parting legacy. The four grays skimmed
along : the bugle was in as high spirits as the grays ; the coachman chimed
in sometimes with his voice, the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison : the
brass work on the harness was an orchestra of little bells ; and thus, as they
went clinking, jingling, rattling, smoothly on, the whole concern, from the
buckles of the leaders' coupling-reins, to the hand of the hind boot, was
one great instrument of music."

No. II. THE RAIL-ROAD.

r When the mail coaohes, after the practice and improvement of a few
years, had gradually attained the speed of ten or twelve miles an hour, great
was the self-laudation of the age upon its own nimbleness as compared to
the slow gouty-paced travelling of its ancestors. It was a subject on which
the eighteenth century, especially when drawing near its end, was mightily
facetious and grandiloquent, always wondering what its dear departed gran-
dames would say if they could only peep out of their graves and see the
portentous rate at which it was flying along the road, even without the
necessity of making a will beforehand. But now, how are the tables
turned ! the fable of the seven -leagued boots, used by Jack in the fairy tale,
were evidently only a symbol, at once marking and veiling the discovery of
the steam-engine, just as Friar Bacon hid his invention of gunpowder under
a jumble of words, being equally unwilling to lose the credit of his know-
ledge, or to impart it to others. We, therefore, beg leave, to put in Jack's
claim at once, in case the French or Americans, those universal discoverers
of all that has been discovered, should attempt to defraud the giant-killing
hero of the glory that belongs to him.

- There is something not a little flattering to our hopes of future improve-
ment, when we look at the humble origin of railway travelling. Who that
sees one of the present splendid trains flying along at the rate of twenty or
thirty miles an hour, would imagine that it was the lineal descendant of a
coal-cart, slowly drawn along a wooden tram by a single horse ? And yet
such is the bare fact, stript of all exaggeration. This simple contrivance
was adopted about two-hundred years ago, to facilitate the drawing of coals
from the pits to the places of shipment in the neighbourhood of Newcastle-
upon-Tyne ; the waggon, which went upon small wheels, contained from
two to three tons of coal, and was provided with a flange, or projecting rim,
for the purpose of keeping it in contact with the rail. From time to time
various improvements were made upon this humble beginning-, without,
however, deviating from the general principle ; stone- supports were sub-
stituted for the wooden sleepers, arid, to make the pull easier for the horse,
in steep ascents, or in the case of sharp curves, thin plates of malleable iron
were nailed on the surface of the rails, the greater smoothness of the metal
facilitating the draught. Then cast-iron rods were introduced ; but this ex-
periment, seemingly so obvious, was, after all, the result of accident, as
perhaps may be said of many other discoveries for which individuals have
obtained all the fame that belongs to invention. It seems that in 1767 the
price of iron became very low, and, in order to keep the furnaces at work,
it was resolved to cast bars, to be laid upon the wooden rails ; this would
save expense in their repairs ; and if any sudden rise in the value of iron

TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT. 75

should take place, they might be taken up again, and, in the language of
the trade, sold as pigs. Excellent as this plan was, when compared with
what had been done before, it was soon found to have its disadvantages.
The form of the rail was weak, considering the quantity of metal employed
upon it, and it allowed dirt and pebbles to be lodged, which impeded the
free motion of the carriages, and even made them liable to be thrown out of
the track. This, after some minor attempts at improvement, led to the
grand invention of edge-rails, which was followed by the use of malleable
rods in place of the brittle cast-iron, an ingenious adaptation of rolling ma-
chinery having enabled the engineers to give them the requisite form.

Hitherto we have seen only animal power used to impel the carriages on
a railway ; but gravity soon came to be employed as an auxiliary, and in
some cases as the sole propelling agent, where the road admitted of an in-
clined plane, no greater power being required to take a loaded carriage down
than to drag it up again. Where the too great steepness of the ground
rendered this plan inadmissible, recourse was had to what was called a self-
acting inclined plane, by which ingenious contrivance the loaded car in its
descent pulled up the empty waggons by means of a rope passed round a
wheel at the top of the acclivity. This may be considered as the first
chapter in the history of the railway, which, though a simple term, we shall
presently see applied to that compound piece of engineering, which includes
the steam-engine, the carriages, and the road on which they travel. But
we have not yet quite done with the railway itself, properly so called. >

When experience had once established the fact that iron rails, by lessen-
ing the friction, considerably lightened the draught, it will not seem strange
that a projector should at last be found to speculate on the advantage of
substituting railways for the common road. This was Dr. Anderson. He
had no idea of any new locomotive power, but proposed to carry a line^of rail •
ways by the side of the turnpike roads, along which waggons might pass
drawn by horses. Mr. Edgeworth, either borrowing the Doctor's idea, or,
as he said, having originated it himself, went a step farther, and in " Nichol-
son's Journal of the Arts" for March, 1802, suggested that means might
be found to enable " stage-coaches to go six miles an hour, and post chaises
and gentlemen's travelling- carriages to travel with eight, both with one
horse." But neither of the projectors seemed to have considered how the
rail was to be carried on by the side of the turnpike-road when the latter
came to run through the towns, or how the carriage was to be moved when
the intervention of any steep made farther progress impossible ; though one
horse might draw a waggon upon a rail, it was quite evident that he could
not drag the same weight up a hill along a common highway. As, how-
ever, neither of these plans was attempted to be carried into effect, the diffi-
culties in question never came to be tested.

While tram-ways had thus been exercising the ingenuity of projectors, a
power was growing to maturity, which was destined to change the whole face
of the matter. In 1802 it occurred to Messrs. Trevethick and Vivian to take
out a patent for a steam -carriage on the public road : and though it does not
appear to have been ever actually employed, it led to the experiment being
tried on a colliery railway in South Wales. It succeeded but partially, and a
fancy having now seized the engineers that a smooth-tired wheel would not
adhere sufficiently to the surface of the rail for onward motion, all their in-
genuity was employed in removing a difficulty, which did not exist, till
after the lapse of a few years, Mr. George Stephenson was fortunate enough
to discover that his brethren had been fighting with a shadow. The con-

76 TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRKSENT.

struction of the first of the modern, or travelling class of railways, between
Darlington and Stockton, on which one horse drew with ease a carriage
•with twenty- six passengers, at the rate of ten miles an hour, afforded an
opportunity for testing his invention. Accordingly it was tried, and though
the operation was remarkable, its success was not sufficient to attract the
public attention. The Titan had not yet attained its full maturity ; and
when, some time afterwards, the monied men of Manchester and Liverpool
employed Mr. Stephenson to construct a railroad for them, they had no
idea, as it should seem, of any other motive agent than stationary engines,
The question, however, on the completion of the railway, came to be agi-
tated, when these practical men of business, wisely preferring facts to theory
offered a reward of five hundred pounds for the best locomotive carriage,
capable of fulfilling certain conditions. Their demands were not very exor-
bitant : ten miles an hour was the maximum of speed required, and it is
curious enough in the present day to read how even the friends of the loco-
motive project disclaimed any such NONSENSE as the idea of travelling by
steam " at the rate of ten, sixteen, eighteen, twenty miles an hour." It
must be acknowledged that these new Frankensteins little understood the
tremendous nature of the monster they were calling into existence.

At length, on the 8th of October, 1829, — a day more justly to be cele-
brated than even the anniversaries of the Nile or Waterloo, — the trial took
place, on a portion of the Liverpool and Manchester railway, prepared for
the purpose. Greatly to the surprise of those who a short time before had
voted Mr. Stephenson only fit for Bedlam, his carriage went at the rate of
thirty miles an hour without a load, and at twenty-four miles an hour when
encumbered with three times its own weight, which was thirteen tons.
Titan had now triumphed : the union of the railway and the locomotive
engine was complete ; but still the idea of carrying goods was uppermost
in men's minds, nor was it till the invention had come into active operation,
that its great value as a means of conveying passengers was at all under-
stood. Then, indeed, the truth became gradually developed, and men saw
— not a few with fear as well as wonder — the realization of those day-dreams
which had been promulgated by Dr. Darwin so early as 1 793 : —

" Soon shall thy arm, unconquer'd STEAM ! afar
Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car ;
Or oil wide-waving wings expanded bear
The flying chariot through the fields of air.'*

Botanic Garden, Canto i. 253—289.

Well may the reader of these lines exclaim with Macbeth, upon the half
achievement of his greatness —

«* Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the aerial (imperial) theme."

At all events, the thirty miles an hour seemed just as absurd in those
days, when the idea was first started, as the flying chariot can possibly do
to us ; and, though the latter may be never realised, it should hardly be set
down in the chapter of utter impossibilities.

No sooner was the locomotive steam-engine found to answer the expec-
tation of the inventors, than a new impetus was given to the formation of
roads, on which they might most effectually exert their agency. Up ascents
of any great steepness, it was quite clear, they would not go, the adhesion
between the engine-wheels and the rails not being sufficient to ensure the

TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT. 77

progressive motion of the machine. Ways, therefore, had to be cut through
hills where they were not too high, throwing up the earth on either side, or
they were to be formed by tunnelling where the- height of the ground made
that the cheapest and most efficacious mode of working. Sometimes, as in
case of narrow valleys, it was found better to carry the road across them
upon arches, the expense being less than the more ordinary way of raising
an embankment.

Latterly, the introduction of another element has threatened to render
useless not a few of these ingenious contrivances. It has been proposed,
and the experiment is now actually in progress, to lay down hollow pipes or
cylinders, and exhaust the air in them, by means of steam engines fixed at
certain distances, when the atmospheric pressure, it is expected, will be suf-
ficient to propel the carriages that are connected by means of a rod with the
several tubes. The objectors to the plan cry oat upon the expense, as well
as the great difficulty of carrying it out in frosty weather, and upon an ex-
tended line, for they argue that the experiment tried in the neigbourhood of
Dublin upon a scale of three miles, goes for nothing, however successful it
may have been. They refer to the result to confirm their forebodings ; and
certainly there is no denying the homely old proverb, that " the proof of the
pudding is in the eating ;" still, if we must not praise till we have tasted,
we have just as little right to blame ; and the verdict becomes still more
suspicious when, as in this case, it is plain the opinion is given from other
interests and predilections. They who have embarked thousands in the
present railways may be excused if they are a little incredulous as to the
feasibility of the atmospheric scheme. For ourselves, we have in our time
seen so many things turn out well that had previously been declared to be
impossible, that we are inclined to distrust the sceptics even more than the
enthusiasts. Dr. Lardner, we can well remember, proclaimed the utter
impossibility of steam -carriages ever going above thirty miles an hour, just
as, a few years before, the very friends of Stephenson had ridiculed the idea
of a speed that should exceed ten. But the doctor had this advantage ; he
was really and truly a scientific man, and demonstrated his opinion as irre-
fragably as any proposition of Euclid, when lo and behold the scorner was
again rebuked by fact. In the midst of his jeers, the machine showed it
was very possible to double the utmost degree of speed he had allowed.
" Ibi omnis effusus labor." It is true that this extreme attempt at velocity
has not everywhere been repeated, but its being done is quite enough
to put a whole battalion of LL.D.'s to the rout ; and we therefore abide by
our hopes of the atmospheric railway, the rather from not having any shares
in the locomotive speculations. If we had, it might materially influence our
judgment, as it does that of many other honest folks, great admirers of the
things and powers that be.

We have now briefly traced the history of the great railway experiment in
conjunction with the steam-engine. It might be deemed presumptuous to
attempt calculating on what are likely to be the future results of this extra-
ordinary combination ; yet it is hardly possible to refrain altogether from
some pleasant dreams of the time when by the agency of steam, both on
land and water, the prejudices that now separate the various families of
mankind shall be worn away, and their various habits so assimilated, that
they may all form, if not one people, at least a confederation of nations. That
it will do this there can be little doubt, but we think it is destined to do
much more ; if machinery goes on at its present rapid pace for another
century, superseding much of the necessity of human labour, it is quite clear

TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT.

that the present forms of society, which grew out of other circumstances,
must be broken up and remoulded, though the wildest imagination may fail
to picture what shape it will finally assume. In the meanwhile we have
only to comfort ourselves with the old maxim, that " every thing is for the
best."

A ROMAUNCH BALLAD.*

Eau volg bain alia mia bella,
Ed ell eir vuol bain a mi,

Na nel muond nonais co ella
Che plaschar m'poassa pli.

Nus vivains in allegria,

In plaischarlu uniun,
Non sentin otra fadia,

Co nel temp ch' eau 1'abbandun.

Ma noass cours taunt s'assumaglien,
Ella vuol quistque ch' eau vo j

E pissers ma non s'travaglien,
Quelo laschains nus a sien lo.

D'el sutur eis 1'amatura
Ed eir eau unguota main ;

El trampelg va tust suot sura
Cura chia nus duos sutain.

Escha sun con otr' intraischia
Us olqs m'ho ladieu adoss

Ma ella no'ls ditumar laischia
Ne d'oters vuol ne tuchiar Toss.

Escha vein la generala
Cuerr in prest a la pigliar

L' accompang na be mar schiala
Ma in stuva poass entrar.

Edu allr ch' ungiens non sainten
Chiosas dischains da taunt dalef ,

Che noass cuors quasi s'alguainten
Per amur e per affet.

Sch'un colomb eis ella prisa

Inuozainta sch un agne
Eis miviglia, eis bendisa

Eis per amur, eis pura fe.

Taunt ardeinte eis sia ogliseda
E taunt tener eis sien cour,

Scha Weinsberg fass assedia3da
Ella gniss a m' portar our.

I love a little rustic beauty,

And dearly loves this beauty me ;

In the whole world there is no maiden
Can give me half such joy as she.

We live always in sweet communion,
In smiles and gladness of the heart,

We know no hour of gloom or sorrow,
But that sad hour which bids us part.

Our minds are one, our hopes and wishes,
What please me gives her delight,

We have no little tiffs or poutings ;

All these long since have ta'en their flight,

* The Romaunch language is a dialect of the Tyrol.

A ROMAUNCH BALLAD. 79

This charming girl is fond of dancing ;

And / love dancing for her sake,
The rest behold us both with envy,

When in the sets our place we take.

If e'er I meet some other partner,

On me her charming eyes still shine,
No other wins her glance of beauty,

She'll clasp no other hand than mine.

When all clap hands, and dance is over,

I run at once to her dear side,
Not merely down the steps escorting, ^

But her sweet footsteps homeward guide.

How sweetly, gently, then conversing,

We pass the moonlit hours away,
Our hearts grow one in fond affection

Love warming all we think and say.

No dove is softer than this maiden,

No lamb more innocent, I ween,
Playful and kind, religious, beauteous,

No lovelier virgin e'er was seen.

Her eyes are bright and full of courage,

Her heart is mine so faithfully,
If Weinsberg were in mortal danger

She'd run to save, or die with me.

E. KENEALY.

THEATRES.

THE OPERA STILL AT ITS ZENITH.

HER Majesty's Theatre continues the centre of attraction to the whole
fashion of London : the excitement created by the surpassing merit of
Jenny Lind has no wise abated, and every night of her performance the
house is invaded by a multitude — by a perfect mass of admirers. Never did
singer before make impression like this. The name, and the fame of Jenny
Lind form the topic of conversation universally, unceasingly. Each new
character she impersonates is another triumph : each repetition adds fresh
laurels to that crown of harmony which now belongs to her alone. " La
Figlia del Reggimento," " La Sonnambula," " Norma," are repeated again
and again amid enthusiasm and delight. So complete is the excellence of
Jenny Lind, as the heroine in each of these operas, that it becomes impos-
sible to give the preference to any one of them. " Norma," considering the
difficulty she had to contend with, is perhaps the greatest wonder she has
achieved. The first night of her acting Norma was distinguished by a state
visit from the Queen. It was a glorious occasion for her Majesty's Theatre.
The aspect of the house was magnificent. The Royal box, surmounted by
a crown, was hung with crimson velvet, fringed with gold ; the decorations
extended to the boxes on the right and left, which held the ladies and gen-
tlemen of the suite. Two yeomen, according to ancient custom, stood on
the stage in front of the regal presence. Her Majesty and Prince Albert,
who was dressed in fall uniform, arrived exactly at eight o'clock, which was
the signal for the commencement of the national anthem. The brilliant
assemblage in the boxes, the richness of the dresses, the abundance of
jewels worn by the fair visitors, produced a superb spectacle when the whole
company rose. Nor was the enthusiasm less than the splendour. Accla-
mations were uttered on all sides, and handkerchiefs were waved in all direc-
tions at the end of the anthem.

The peculiarity in Mademoiselle Jenny Lind's Norma is, that she makes
the fiercer features of the character less prominent than her predecessors,
but the portions that illustrate the tender affections much more so. Norma
may be interpreted two ways. The jealous rage into which she breaks when
she discovers that Adalgisa is the object of Pollio's love, the frenzy which
tempts her to kill her children, may be so brought forward that the feminine
nature is almost forgotten, and still a very fine impressive performance may
be the result, But Norma, in spite of her violence, is a tender mother and
an affectionate daughter ; her last wish before death is to be reconciled to her
father, and obtain his promise to protect her children. These are the pecu-
liarities which Jenny Lind seizes, and hence the great delicacy of her read-
ing. She gives the Celtic priestess a deep impress of mournfulness, she
makes one think rather of the pain she is forced to endure than of the im-
placable resentment she harbours. Nothing could be more deeply sorrowful
than the " Qua! cor tradisti" in tfas finale, — it is the perfection of intense re-
proach. The by-play throughout is most refined, — a by-play all illustrative of
the softer treatment of the character.

It is of course unnecessary to descant on the singing of Jenny I.-ind in
Norma, for that is perfection past description. Her voice in'' Casta Diva"
" Deh ! con te" " Si fino" falls upon enraptured ears,

THEATRES. 81

like the sweet south

That breathes upon a bank of violets
Stealing and giving odour.

With regard to the " Figlia del Reggimento," the graceful walk
so military, and withal so feminine — the completely natural air, make Jenny
Lind's " Maria " one of the most charming exhibitions that can be conceived.

The Swedish airs which Mademoiselle Lind first sung in private at Bucking-
ham Palace, and then introduced in public, exhibit her in a new light. The melo-
dies themselves are of a singular character, constantly awakening the
reminiscence of other national airs, and as constantly causing the re-
miniscence to fade away. Now they seem to touch the old English ballad,
and now to border on Swiss peculiarism. Simplicity is not their character-
istic ; they are marked by difficult intervals — the key is suddenly changed,
and they have less of the tune form than most compositions of the popular
class. The melancholy and the joyous strangely intermix, the pathetic and
the coquetish balance each other, so that one scarcely knows which pre-
dominates. But the charm is not so much in the airs as in Mademoiselle
Jenny Lind's manner of singing them. This is distinguished by exquisite
naivete. She Sports heedlessly with the melody, and thus gives it the effect
of playful spontaneousness. A sort of winning light-heartedness continually
displays itself, and produces the effect of true exhiliration.

The Ballet department of her Majesty's Theatre is now eminently filled :
there are Carlotta Grisi, and Rosati, and Cerito, the three appearing night after
night. At any other time their combined attraction would have been all in
all sufficient, but now, though they are as perfect as ever ; though in opera, too
the glorious tones of Lablache reverberate in their full pomp, and the sweet
notes of Gardoni speak in exquisite melody, yet thought or talk is but of
Jenny Lind — of Jenny Lind alone, the unrivalled, the unapproachable. That
worthy and quaint old poet Geoffrey Chaucer tells us, in a ballad, how he
forsook his bed to listen to the nightingale, and how enraptured he was :

I heard in the next bush beside

A nightingale so lustily sing,

That with her clere voice she made ring

Through all the greene wood wide.

All London seems now to follow the bard's example. Repose is forgotten
the sole consideration is the ecstasy produced by the clere voice of the
nightingale of London.

THE FRENCH THEATRE.

Monsieur Bouffe', one of the greatest actors of France is now performing
at the St. James's Theatre. His Gamin de Paris, his Michel Perrin, and his
miser in " La Fille de 1'Avare " display talent of the very highest order.
Wit and pathos, recklessness and hard-heartedness — virtue and vice are
alike vividly, powerfully true, with this admirable comedian. There is also
here a Mademoiselle Duverger, an actress of the lively school, who might
be equally put forward as a model of excellence in her pleasant, and fasci-
nating^ department of the histrionic art. The greatest value of the St.
James's Theatre is that it produces in rapid and rich succession, upon one
stage, actors and actresses who, even in Paris, can be only seen by going to
a dozen different theatres. We have here the very cream of the drama of
France. An announcement states that the season is to conclude with the
appearance of Rachel— that brightest of all Gallia's constellations.

VOL. IV. NO. XV.

LITERATURE.

MEMOIRS OP VISCOUNTESS SUNDON, MISTRESS OF THE ROBES TO QUEEN
CAROLINE, CONSORT OF GEORGE II. ; including letters from the most
celebrated persons of her time : now first published from the originals,
by MRS. THOMPSON, author of " The Life of the Duchess of Marlborough,"
" Memoirs of the Court of Henry VIII." In two volumes. Henry Col-
burn, Great Marlborough Street, 1847.

THIS is a very valuable addition to the able historical memoirs already
published by Mrs. Thompson. Among the past Queens consort or regnant
of England, few rank higher than Caroline wife of George II. To her wise
influence, and active administration, the house of Hanover owes not a little
its permanent establishment on the throne of this country : her sagacity
protected the new dynasty from its enemies, and her amiability first made
it agreeable to the people. Indeed, from the accession of her well disposed but
lethargic husband, to the period of her own death, the government was more
or less continually confided to her controul. The history of such a princess
must therefore prove of more than common interest, and especially so, when
given in the memoirs of a person so closely attached to her person and for-
tunes as her favourite, the Viscountess Sundon is known to have been.
But we had better refer to Mrs. Thompson's own account of this book in
her preface : it runs as follows :

"The materials of this work are supplied, chiefly, from a Collection of Autograph
Letters addressed to CHARLOTTE CLAYTON, VISCOUNTESS SUNDON. This
Lady was attached to the Court of our first Hanoverian Sovereign, being Lady of
the Bedchamber, and eventually Mistress of the Robes, to Caroline, Princess of
Wales, afterwards Queen-Consort of George the Second. Lady Sundon, long
before her husband's elevation to the Peerage, and whilst she retained the appella-
tion by which she is mentioned in much of the correspondence of the day — that of
Mrs. Clayton — attained such a degree of influence over -her Royal Mistress, as
perhaps had hardly ever been enjoyed by any female favourite since the days of
Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. It is not surprising, therefore, that the Letters
given in the present Work should contain applications "from individuals of every
rank and profession. Nor where the higher orders among her own sex backward
in soliciting her aid, or in courting — but seldom without a selfish motive — her
regard,"

Mrs. Thompson thus describes Queen Caroline.

" From her earliest connexion with the Hanoverian family, Caroline had been
resolved to govern the Prince to whom she was affianced, in an ill assorted union,
with a gentle but firm hand. Independently of her powerful understanding, her
personal advantages tended to ensure this object. She was, at the time of her
marriage, extremely^ handsome ; and, even after the ravages of the small-pox,
which occurred shortly afterwards, retained a countenance replete with animation,
exhibiting, at will, either mildness or majesty ; * and her penetrating eyes,' ob-
serves one who had often gazed upon her,* ' expressed whatever she had a mind
they should.' Her voice was melodious, her hands were beautifully formed, and
her actions were graceful.

* Horace Walpole.

LITERATURE. 83

(t These charms were continually acknowledged, and extolled, by the gross and
illiterate monarch, who could admire the beauty of her form, and delight in her
personal advantage*, but who was wholly incapable of appreciating her love of
letters, which he discouraged, or her generosity, which he opposed, while forcing
her to bear the odium of his avarice.

" The extreme devotion of the Queen to her consort has been by some ascribed
to ambition, — to the love of ascendancy ; others, more amiable, have ventured to
couple it with aifection. If we may give entire credit to the religious sentiments
of Caroline, we may set it down as the effect of a strong sense of duty ; and, in-
deed, it is scarcely possible that any less cogent motive could have actuated a
woman, during the course of an union of thirty years, to an incessant sacrifice of
self-will, to the most differential respect, the most entire acquiescence, than a con-
viction that such sacrifices were required by her nuptial bonds. ' Her children,'
she declared, ' were not as a grain of sand to her, compared with him ;' and she
marked these extreme notions of duty on her death-bed."

The opera in those days, as at the present time, seems to have engaged the
attention of royalty. Then, as now, the cabals of the musical world were
apt to move the whole orb of fashion.

" The following letter/' says Mrs. Thompson, " contains a curious illustration of
the times, in its reference to the commotion which occurred at the Italian Opera,
when the Princess Amelia happened to be present. The object of public dis-
approbation was Signora Cuzzoni ; but that favourite singer having a powerful
body of friends in the house, a struggle took place between the two parties,
which caused the greater part of the performance to be in ' inexplicable dumb
show/ This letter affords a curious instance of the participation of the most
illustrious personages of the realm in the cabals of the Italian Opera, which had
not then been introduced more than half a century into England.

COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE TO MRS. CLAYTON.

"DEAR MADAM,

" I hope you will forgive the trouble I am going to give you, having al-
ways found you on every occasion most obliging. What I have to desire is, that
if you find a convenient opportunity, I wish you would be so good as to tell her
Royal Highness, that every one who wishes well to Cuzzoni is in the utmost con-
cern for what happened last Tuesday at the Opera, in the Princess Amelia's pre-
sence ; but to show their innocence of the disrespect which was shown to her
Highness, I beg you will do them the justice to say, that the Cuzzoni had been
publicly told, to complete her disgrace, she was to be hissed off the stage on
Tuesday ; she was in such concern at this, that she had a great mind not to sing,
but I, without knowing anything that the Princess Amelia would honour the
Opera with her presence, positively ordered her not to quit the stage, but let them
do what they would : though not heard, to sing on, and not to go off till it was
proper ; and she owns now that if she had not had that order she would have
quitted the stage when they cat- called her to such a degree in one song, that she
was not heard one note, which provoked the people that like her so much, that
they were not able to get the better of their resentment, but would not suffer the
Faustina to speak afterwards. I hope her Royal Highness would not disapprove
of any one preventing the Cuzzoni' s being hissed off the stage ; but I am in great
concern they did not suffer anything to have happened to her, rather than to have
failed in the high respect every one ought to pay to a Princess of her Royal
Highness's family ; but as they were not the aggressors, I hope that may in some
measure excuse them.

" Another thing I beg you would say is, that I, having happened to say that
the Directors would have a message from the King, and that her Royal Highness
had told me that his Majesty had said to her, that if they dismissed Cuzzoni they
should not have the honour of his presence, or what he was pleased to allow them
some of the Directors have thought fit to say that they neither should have a

84 LITERATURE."

message from the King, and that he did not say what her Royal Highness did
me the honour to tell me he did. I most humbly ask her Royal Highness' s par-
don for desiring the Duke of Rutland (who is one of the chief amongst them for
Cuzzoni) to do himself the honour to speak of it to her Royal Highness, and hear
what she would be so gracious to tell him. They have had also a message from
the King, in a letter from Mr. Fabrice, which they have the insolence to dispute,
except the Duke of Rutland, Lord Albemarle, and Sir Thomas Pendergrass. Lady
Walsingham having desired me to let her know how this affair went, I have writ-
ten to her this morning, and, at the Duke of Rutland's desire, have sent an
account of what was done at the Board, for her to give his Majesty.

As I have interested myself for this poor woman, so I will not leave anything
undone that may justify her ; and if you will have the goodness to state this affair
to her Royal Highness, whom I hope will still continue her most gracious protec-
tion to her, I shall be most extremely obliged to you, that am,

Dear Madam,

With the most sincere friendship,
Your most affectionate

humble servant,

M. PEMBROKE.

These memoirs of Lady Sundon contain indeed a perfect fund of historical
amusement.

BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS.

Adams, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Herbert Geo. Adams,

of a dau. 29th May.
Alexander, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Carlton House

Terrace, llth June.
Allen, Mrs. wife of George Baugh Allen, Esq. of a

son, 9th June.
Anderson, Mrs. Major, of a son, at Clifton, 27th

May.
Arkwright, Mrs. wife of Alfred Arkwright, Esq. of a

dau. at Worksworth, co. Derby, 6th June.
Bacon, Mrs. wife of the Rev. John Bacon, of a son,

at Lambourne, Woodlands, Berks, 31st May.
Baggallay, Mrs. John, of a son, at Tavistock Square,

llih June.

Baillie, Hon. Mrs. Henry, of a dau. 1st June.
Barlow, Mrs. W. H. of a son, at Derby, 2Qth May.
Barton, Mrs. Daniel, of a son, at Edinburgh, 29th

May.
Bell, Mrs. Sydney Smith, of a son, at Regent's Park

Terrace, 28th May.

Bennett, Mrs. Wm. Sterndale, of a son, llth June.
Benthall, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Furzwell House,

Torquay, 26th May.
Berkeley, Mrs. Comyns Rowland, of a son, 30th

May.
Bevir, Mrs. E. J., of a son, at Woburn Square, 2nd

June.
Biggs, Mrs. wife of John Biggs, Esq. H. M. 8th

Kegt. of a dau. at Poona, 21st April.
Braithwaite, Mrs. Robt. of a dau. at Kendal, 6th

June.
Bright, Mrs. wife of James Bright, Esq. M. D. of a

dau. 27th May.
Browell, Mrs. wife of the Rev. James Browell, M. A.

of a dau. 16th June.
Brown, Mrs. wife of R. Brown, Esq. M,D. of a dau.

at Kevernalls, near Lymington, 28th May.
Bryant, Mrs. George, at Park-street, Islington, of

a son, 1st June.
Buckle, Mrs.widow of Capt. Edmund Buckle, Bengal

Art. of a son, 3rd June.
Calland, Mrs. John Forbes, of a dau. at Paris, 28th

May.

Charteris, Lady Anne, of a son, 2nd June.
Charters, Mrs. Major, of a dau. at Padua, 18th

May.
Clarke, Mrs. W. Gray, of a dau. at Tours, 10th

June.
Cliff, Mrs. William, of a dau. at Brompton, 16th

June.
Cosser, Mrs.wife of the Rev.W. M. Cosser, of a son,

at Tichfield. 30th May.
Crosse, Mrs. Edward Wilson, of a dau. at Torring-

ton Square, 2nd June.
Crosthwaite, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. C. Crosth-

waite, of a dau. 3rd June.
De la Motte, Mrs. wife of Edward De la Motte, of

the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, of a

dau. SlstJMay.
Douglas, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Alexander Douglas,

of a son, at Harley-street, 12th June.
Downe, the Viscountess, of a son, 15th June.
Drew, Mrs. wife of the Rev. G. S. Drew, Incum-
bent of old St. Pancras, of a son, 13th June.

Du Ruisson, Mrs. James, of Wandsworth, of a

dau. 1st June.
Ellis, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Robt. Stephenson

Ellis, M. A. of a dau. at Copenhagan, 30th May.
Esdaile, Mrs. Clement, of a dau. 29th May.
Farmer, Mrs. W. F. G. of a son, at Nonsuch Park,

Surrey, 26th May.
Fennell, Mrs. Edwin, of a dau. at Wimbledon, 25th

May.
Frost, Mrs. wife of Andrew Hollingworth Frost,

Esq. M. A. of a son, 8th June.
Giberne, Mrs. George, of a dau. at Epsom, 7th June.
Gipps, Mrs. H. P. of a son, at Montague Place,

4th June.
Goddard. Mrs. George H. of a dau. at John-street,

4th June.
Godden, Mrs. of Watford, Herts, of a dau. 21st

May.
Godley, Mrs. John Robert, of a son, at Portman

Square, 17th June.
Graham, Mrs. Wm. of a dau. at Castle Milk, co.

Lanark, 6th June.

Granet, Mrs. Captain, of a son, 26th May.
Gruner, Mrs. Lewis, of a dau. at Fitzroy Square,

31st May.

Heathcote, Mrs. Francis, of a dau. 29th May.
Herring, Mrs. wife of the Rev. W. Harvey Herring,

of a son, 5th June.
Inchbald, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at WestWickham,

Kent, 12th June.
Jackson, Mrs. J. D. of a son, at Saffron Waldron,

5th June.

Jackson, Mrs. wife of the Rev. John Jackson, Rec-
tor of St. James', of a dau. 29th May.
Kerry, Countess of, of a dau. 27th May.
Kinglake, Mrs. Ssrjeant, of a dau. at Eaton Square,

15th June.
Kinlock, Mrs. wife of J. J. Kinlock, of Kair, of a

dau. Srd^June.
Laurie, Mrs. John, of a son. at Hyde Park-phsce,

31st May.

Lyttleton, Lady, of a son, 12th June.
Mac Leod, wifs of Capt. Norman Mac Leod, Ben-

gal Engineers, of a dau. at South Crescent, Bed-
ford-square.
Majoribanks, Mrs. Edward, jun. of a son, 13th

June.
Marston, Mrs. Thomas, of a son, at Ampthill

Square, 2nd June.
Martin, Mrs. Wm. of Hyde Park Square, of a son,

29th May.

Masterman, Mrs. Henry, of a son, 26th May.
Oakes, Mrs. Col. R. M. of a son, at Dineham

Lodge, Norfolk, 6th June.
Oliver, Mrs. wife of J. R. Oliver, Esq. M.D. of a

son, at Kennington, 10th June.
Peake, Mrs. Robert William, of Lleweny House,

New Finchley Road, of a dau. 28th May.
Pelly, Mrs. Albert, of a son, at Walthamstow,

29th May.
Phillips, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Gloucester Villa,

Regent's Park, 10th June.
Place, Mrs. F. W. of a dau. at Delhi, East Indies,

19th April.

BIRTHS MARRIAGES.

\vlinson, Mrs. wife of the Rev. George rtawlin-
i, of a dau. at Merton, 7th June.

Kind, Mrs. wife of Malcolm M'Neill Rind, Esq. Taylor, Mrs. Wilbraham, of a son, 27th May.

Taylor. Mrs. James, of Mechlenburgh Square, of a
son, 10th June,

Ben. Med. Est. of a son, at Lucknow,28th March
Rivers, Lndy, of a dau. 24th May.
Robertson, Mrs. of a son, at Albermarle-street,

28th May.
Rowland, Mrs. wife of Capt. J. H. Rowland, J. N,

of a dau. 2nd June.
Boyle, Mrs. wife of Dr.|Royle, Professor King's Col-

Jege, of a son, 8th June.

Salmond, Mrs. James, of a son, atWaterfoot, Cum-
berland, 1 6th June.
Saunders, Mrs. John, of a son, at Southend, 2nd

une.
Sharpe, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Walthara Cross

10th June.
Sheppard, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Wm. Sheppard, o

a dau. at Florena Court, co. Fernian 28th May
Skinner, Mrs. wife of Allan Maclain Skinner, Esq.

Barister-at-Law, of a dau. at Brighton, 7th June.
Scares, Mrs. M. J. of a dau. at Fitzroy-Squre, 3rd

June.
Spicer, Mrs. John W. Gooch, of a dau. at Coth-

more, 26th May.
Stillwell, Mrs. Arthur, of a son, at Hillingdon,

6th June.
Sutherland, Mrs. Alexander John, of a son, 5th

Swindell, Mrs. J. G. of a dau, at Kilburn Priory,
„. 4th June.

feake, Mrs. Robt. William, of Llewy House, New

Finchley Road, of a dau. 28th May.
Tickell. Mrs. Major-Gen, of a dau. 24th May.
Titcomb, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. T. Titcomb, of

a dau. at Cambridge, 10th June.
Todd, Mrs. Joseph, of a dau. at Mousley Park,

Surrey, 2nd June.

Tuffnell, Mrs. E. Carleton, of a son, 13th June.
Turner, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Sydney Turner, of a

dau. 1st June.
Turner, Mrs. Marshall, of a son, at Torrington Sq.

29th May.
Tyndall, Mrs. T. O. of a dau. at the Fort, Bristol,

13th June.
Unwin, Mrs. wife of W. Unwin, Esq. of a son, at

Putney, 6th June.
Vardy, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Charles Fox Vardy,

M. A. of a dau. 6th June.

West, Mrs. William Thornton, of a dau. at Clap-
ham Park, 2;th May.
Willoughby, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Wollaton

Rectory, 13th June.
Winkworth, Mrs. Stephen, of a dau. at Purbrook

Lodge, Hants, 25th May.
Winter, Mrs. wife of Charles Winter, Esq. late Capt.

66th Regiment, of a dau. 15th June.
Wood, Lady Mary, of a dau. 27th May.
Woodhouse, Mrs. Henry R. of a son, 16th June.

Aspinall, Henry [Kelsall, youngest son of the late

;, John Aspinall, Esq., of Birkenhead, to Margaret,
only daughter of John Haselden, Esq., of Rock
Ferry, 8th June.

Athill, the Rev. William, of Brandistone-hall,
county of Norfolk, and Sub- Dean of the
Collegiate Church of Middleham, in York-
shire, to Caroline Amelia Halsted, only daughter
of the late Captain John Halsted, R.N., 8th
June.

Baird, Charles J. Esq., late of Shptts, to Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of John Haliday, Esq., of St.
Petersburgh, llth May.

Banks, William , Esq., of London, to Miss Mar-
garet Banks, of Snelston, 15th June.

Blackeney, John, Esq., of Bedford-row, to Sarah,
eldest daughter of Henry Lamb, Esq. of Havrley,
Kent, 10th June.

Blackburn, Robert B., Esq., son of the late John
Blackburn, Esq., of Killearn, in the county of
Stirling, to Francis Georgina, youngest daughter
of the late Rev. Edward Dewing, rector of Rain-
ham, in Norfolk, 10th June.

Bladon, Edward, Esq., of Warwick-square, Ken-
sington, to Louisa, eldest daughter of Charles
Whiting, Esq., of Grove-road, Brixton, 10th
June.

Bliss, Frederick, Esq., of Pensile-house, Glouces-
tershire, youngest son of the late Thomas Bliss,
Esq., of Herne-hill, Surrey, to Caroline, third
daughter of the late Samuel Charles Turner,
Esq., of Child Okeford, in the county of Dorset,
10th June.

Bloxam. Robert W lliam, Esq., of Ryde, to Henri-
etta Louisa, only child of the late Henry Lock,
Esq., of the Hon. E.I.C.S., and granddaughter
of the late Vice-Admiral Lock, of Haylands, Isle
of Wight, 10th June.

Ho/uior, the Rev. R. M., vicar of Ruabon, Den-

bighshire, to Ellen, daughter of the l«ite John
Wood, Esq., of Worthing, 8th June.

Boyrenson, Thomas Adolphus, Esq., M.D., of the
Hon. Company's Bombay Army, to Augusta
Marianne, only daughter of the late Francis
Swinfen, Esq., of Lapley, Stafford, 5th June.

Bright, John, Esq., of Rochdale, M.P., to
Margaret Elizabeth, eldest daughter of the late
William Leatham, Esq., banker, Wakefield, 10th
June.

Broughton, Robert John Porcher, Esq., M.A.,
eldest son of Robert Edwards Broughton, Esq.,
of Melcombe-place, to Louisa Diana, eldest
daughter of Charles Heaton Ellis, Esq., of
Harley-street and Wyddial-hall, Herts, 3rd June.

Browne, Henry J., Esq., of Wilmington-square,
London, surgeon, (late of Hampton, in the
county of Worcester), to Elizabeth, younger
daughter of the late James Coucher, Esq., of
Alfrick, in the same county, 25th May.

Burgess, Arthur James, eldest son of John Hartley
Burgess, Esq., of St. Heliers, Jersey, to Jane,
youngest daughter of the late John Slade, Esq.,
of Devizes, Wilts, 5th June.

Burrell, Walter Wyndham, youngest son of Sir
Charles Merrick Burrell, of Knepp Castle, in the
county of Sussex, to Dorothea, youngest dau. of
the Rev. John Jones, vicar of Burley-on-the-Hill,
Rutlandshire, 10th June.

Carrow, John Monson, Esq., eldest son of the late
Rev. Richard Carrow, of Redland, Glocester-
shire, to Frances Gertrude, daughter of Edmund
Broderip, Esq., of the Manor-house, Cossing-
ton, 26th May.

Caulfeild, W. Montgomerie S., Esq., Lieut, of the
66th Regiment, son of Capt. James Caulfeild,
R.N., to Dora Jane, daughter of Wm. French,
of Clooniquine, county of Roscommon, and of
Fitzwilliam-Bquare, Dublin, Esq., 8th June.

MARRIAGES.

Chambers, Joseph, Esq., of the Bengal Army, to
Maria, eldest daughter of the Rev. Sir Juhn
Page Wood, Bart., 10th June.

Clifford, Charles, Esq., eldest son of George Clif-
ford, Esq., of Wycliffe-hall, Yorkshire, to Mary
Ann, third daughter of John Hercy, Esq., of
Hawthorn hill, Berkshire, 13th Jan.

Cochrane, James, Esq., of her Majesty's IQth
Regiment, to Mary, daughter of Thomas Gibson
Brewer, Esq., of Elm-lodge, Pinner, Middlesex,
and Portland-place, Jersey, barrister- at- law, 10th
June.

Collette, Henry, Esq., Capt. 67th Regiment, eldest
son of the Major General J. H. Collette, to
Katherine, youngest daughter of the late Thos.
Sharp, Esq., Manchester, 25th May.

Colman, George A. Esq., youngest son of the
late W. Colman, Esq., of Shirley,! to Frederica
Eleanor Lang, second surviving daughter of Dr.
Lang, of Bedford-square, and Newman-street,
9th June.

Cooke, the Rev. Wm., B.A., fourth son of Thos.
Cooke, Esq., of Goresfield, near Manchester, tJ
Fanny, second daughter of the late Rev. G. J.
Haggitt, of Bury St. Edmund's, 27th May.

Cope, Charles Rogers, Esq., of Harbourne, Staf-
fordshire, to Sarah Ann, eldest daughter of the
late Edward Rickards, Esq., l6th June.

Cousin, the Rev. Wm., of the Presbyterian Church,
Chelsea, to Anne Ross, daughter of the late
David Ross Cundell, Esq., M.D., 15th June.

Crosley, Benjamin Charles, only son of he late
Benjamin Ashward Crosley, Esq., of Great
James-street, Bedford-row, to Mary Ann, third
daughter of John Mountfield, Esq., of Great
Coram-street, Russell-square, 15th June.

Curry, Capt. Douglas, R.N., son of Vice-Admiral
Curry, C.B., to Elizabeth, second daughter of
Edward Castleman, Esq., of Allandale-hoase,
Wimborne, and of Chettlc, Dorset, 10th June.

Daly, Owen, Esq., M.D. and B.A., second son of
the late E. Daly, Esq., of .Mornington-hall,
Westmeath, Ireland, to Emma Maria, yonngest
daughter of the late Thomas Oldham, Esq., of
Saltrleetby St. Peter's.

Dundas, Frederick, Esq., M.P., son of the late
Hon. Charles Lawrence and Lady Caroline

. Dundas, to Grace, eldest daughter of Lady
Grace and the late Sir Ralph Gore, Bart., 2nd
June.

Eaton, the Rev. Walter, M.A., of Merton College,
Oxford, to Isabella, youngest daughter of G. F.
Iddius, Esq., of the Woodrow, Worcestershire,
14th June.

Edwards, James, Esq., M.D., to Eliza Ellen, dau.
of the late Jonathan Smith, Esq., 8th June.

Everett, Marven, youngest son of the late Wm.
Marven Everett, Esq., Heytesbury, Wiltshire, to
Maria, eldest daughter of Mill Pellatt, Esq.,
Plaistow, Essex, 15th June.

Fox, the Rev. R. Stole, youngest son of George
Townsend Fox, Esq., of Durham, to Mrs. Robt.
Day, eldest .daughter of the late Rev. W
Bassett, of Nether-hall, in the county of Suffolk
9ih June.

Frere, A. E., Esq., Lieut, in her Majesty's 24th
Regiment, to Miss Elizabeth Palmer, daughter
of Quartermaster James Price, of the tame
regiment, llth Jan.

Frost, Chas. Maynard, Esq., of Ladbroke Grove
Netting Hill, third son of the late Roht. Frost,
Esq , of the Hon. E.I.C.S., to Emma, youngest

•_ daughter of the late James Adams, Esq., o;
Plaistow, Essex, 10th June,

Gale, Robert Leake, Esq., eldest son of Thomas
Augustus Gale, Esq., of Queen-square, Blooms-
bury, London, to Mary Ellen, eldest daughter of
Wm. Radcliff, Esq., of Amherst Island, IQtb
May.

Gayton, George, Esq., of Much Hadham, Herts, t

Sarah Anne, eldest surviving daughter of Thos.

Samuel Mott, Esq., of the same place. May 29th.

Gilstrap, Win., cldestsonof Joseph Gilstrap, Eai|.,

of Newark- ou-trent, Notts, to Elizabeth,

youngest daughter of Thomas Haigh, Esq., of
Colne Bridge-house, Huddersfield, 2nd June.

Girsewald, Baron A., Aide-de-Camp to his Royal
Highness the reigning Duke of Brunswick, to
Annie Fector Munro, daughter of the late Gene-
ral Munro, Novar-lodge, Cheltenham, 1st June,
ranville, the Rev. Court, to Lady Charlotte Mur-
"ray, sister of the Duke of Atholl, 10th June.

Grover, Charles Ehret, Esq., of Kernel Hamp-
stead, Herts, to Jane, youngest daughter of the
late Wm. Stanley, Esq., of Maryland point,
Essex, 1st June.

Hallett, Henry Hughes, Esq., of Staple- Inn," to
Bridget Ann, second daughter of Charleg Wm.

~ Hallett, Esq., of Surbiton-lodge, Kingston, 15th
June.

Harris, John Hull Walton, Esq., to Ann, relict of
the late Thomas Martin Cocksedge, Esq., of the
The Hills, Bury St. Edmund's, 12th June.

Henry, Win. G. P., Esq., second son of Thomas
Henry, Esq., of Bush-hill, Middlesex, to
Alice, second daughter of the late John Home
Scott, Esq., 8th June.

Hicks, Wm. John, Esq., son of the late Lieut-
Col. Join Hicks, Esq., to Katherine Forbes,
eldest daughter of the late Major- General Hogg,
Bombay Army, 10th June.

ffilton, the Rev. Henry Dennie, B.A., curate of
St. Margarett's, and son of the Rev. John Hilton,
M.A., of Star Court, Kent, to Anne Jane, elder
daughter of the Rev. Jemson Davies, M.A., vicar
of St. Nicholas, and confrater of Wigston's
Hospital, Leicester, 3rd June.

Hutchings, Hubert, Esq., to Geraldine Laura,
third daughter of Lady Elizabeth Baker, and
sister of Sir Edward B. Baker, Bart., of Ran-
ston, Dorset. 10th June.

Innes, Captain G., Royal Artillery, to Frances
Caroline, widow of the late Hamilton Gyll, Esq.,
and daughter of Sir John Murray, of Stanhope,
Bart., 3rd June.

Jarrett, Mr. Griffith, fourth son of J. Jarrett, Esq.,
Glasfryn-house, Trawsfynydd, \ to Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of the late T. Rowlands,
Llwyngwern, Machynlleth, 26th May.

Kelgour, Wm., Esq., of Liverpool, son of the late
Geo. Kilgour, Esq., of Woburn-place, London,
and Balcairn, Aberdeenshire, to Janet Lindsay,
dau. of the late Patrick Smith, Esq., of Glas-
gow, l6th June.

Kirk, Rupert, Esq., of the E.I.C.S., to Elizabeth,
eldest daughter of Robert Womersley, Esq., of
Stratford-green, Essex, 1st June.

Landor, the Rev. Chas. W., vicar of Wichenford,
Worcestershire, to Caroline, youngest daughter
of Wm. Stanton, Esq., of Longbridge-house,
Warwickshire, 8th June.;

Lane, Edward W., Esq., advocate, to Margaret
Mary, youngest daughter of the late Sir Wm.
Drysdale, of Pitteuchar.

Layard, Rev. C. Clement, vicar of Mayfield, Staf-
fordshire, son of the Rev. B. V. Layard, of
Uffington, Lincolnshire, to Sarah, eldest dau. of
the late S. J. Somes, Esq., of Stratl'ord-green,
Essex,, 3rd June.

Lendon, Rev. William Penry, of Monmouth, to
Eliza, eldest daughter of the Rev. E. Withers,
of Bognor, Sussex, 9th June.

Madden, Lewis P., Esq. M.D., son of the late
Lewis P. Madden, Esq. of Clifton, to Ellen, re-
lict of Captain Sir Edward Astley, R.N., of Hay-
selden, Kent, 14th June.

Maxwell, Lieut-Colonel Sir William A., Bart., of
Calderwood , Castle, Lanarkshire, to Catherine
Cameron, relict of the late Captain H. P. Gill,
of the 50th or Queen's Own, and fifth daughter
of the late Walter Logan, Esq., Edinburgh, 15th
June.

Meeson, John, Esq., third son of Thomas Meeson,
Esq. of Stratford, co. Essex, to Anne Maria,
fourth daughter of William Sewell, Esq. of Plai-
stow, in the same county, 1st June.

Monypenny.R.'C.G.Gybbon, Esq., eldest son of T.
Gybbon Moneypenny, Esq. of Hole-house, Kent,

MARRIAGES.

to Janet Phillips, eldest daughter of the late
Lieut. -Col. Burney, B.N.I., 2nd June.
Morgan, Henry C. Esq., Lieut, in the King's Dra-
goon Guards, to Selina Louisa, third daughter of
Sir East Clayton-East, of Hall-place, Berks,
Hart.

Nicolson, Sir Fred.W. E., Bart., Captain R.N., to
Mary Clementina Marion, only daughter of James
Loch, Esq., M.P., 26th May.
Nind, Philip Pitt, Esq., son of the late Capt. P. P
Nind, Hon. East India Company's Service, t
Charlotte Johnston, third surviving daughter o
the late Major John Maugham, R.M., 9th June
Oakeley, Henry, Lieut. R.N., fifth son of the late
Rev. Herbert Oakeley, D.D., of Oakeley, Salop
to Emily Letitia, third daughter of the late Col
Trelawney, R.A., and niece of Sir William Salus
bury Trelawney, Bart., 1st June.
Palmer, William James, only son of James Palmer
Esq. of the Close, Lichfield, to Mary Spencer
daughter of Robert Onebye Walker, Esq. o
Bedford-square, Qth June.

Park, Chas. Joseph, eldest son of Charles Park,Esq
of Henbury-house, Dorset, to Ellen Mary, seeonc
dau. of the Rev. Charles Wicksted Ethelston, o
Wicksted-hall, Cheshire, and Uplyme Rectory
Devon, 10th June.

Patient. Ambrose, eldest son of Ambrose Patient
Esq. of Gorton, Wilts, to Henrietta Sophia
youngest daughter of the late William Wyndhsca
Esq. of Dinton-house, Wilts, 5th June.
Ilawlinson, Sir Christopher, eldest surviving son o
John Rawlinson, Esq. of Wimpole - street, to
Georgiana Maria, youngest daughter of the late
Alexander Radcliffe Sidebottom, Esq. of Sloane
street and Lincoln's-inn, 27th June.
Rees, William, Esq. of Falcon Villa, Chelmsford,
to Emma Jane, daughter of Jolm Carne, Esq. of
Tresillion, Trnro, 3rd June.

Kenny, Capt. Thomas, of the Bengal Engineers,
eldest son of Alexander Renny Tailyour, Esq. of
Borrowfield, co. Forfar, to Miss Isabella E. C.
Atkinson, second daughter of the late Adam
Atkinson, Esq. of Lorbottle, co. Northumber-
land, orh June.

Richmond, Daniel, Esq., surgeon, of Paisley, to
; M'Kinnon, daughter of Col.

Henrietta Fullerton

A. F. Richmond, C.B., Resident at the Court of
Oude, Lucknow, East Indies, 2nd June.

Riddell, John Carre, Esq. of Melbourne, Port Phi-
lip, one of the magistrates for the colony, third
son of the late Thomas Riddell, Esq. of Camies-
town, Roxburgh, to Anne, eldest dau. of Sidney
Stephen, Esq. Barrister at Law, Melbourne, 22nd
Oct. 1846.

Kobarts, Rev. Alfred, only son of W. Robarts,
Esq. of Burnham, Bucks, to Eliaa, Glover Moore,
youngest dau. ol the late Rev. John Penketh
Buee, Incumbent of Cawthorne, Yorkshire, 2nd

Esq., late of the India-house, and of Herne-hill,
Surrey, 12th June.

Skrine, Rev. Wadham Huntley, second son of
Henry Skrine, Esq. of Stubbings - house, co.
Berks, and Warleigh, co. Somerset, to Clara
Mary Anne, eldest daughter of William Mills,
Esq. of Great Saxham-hall, Suffolk, 27th May.

Smith, John Esq. of Bydorp-house, Hanwell, to
Emily, only surviving daughter of the late Jasper
Palfrey, Esq* of Finham, Warwickshire, 15th
June.

Springett, Robert, Esq. of Finchcox, Goudhurst,
Kent, to Louisa, daughter of Robert Watkins,
Esq. of Augusta house, Worthing, 27th June.

Stevens, Henry H., to Florance Matilda, eldest
daughter of the late Charles Shannon, Esq. of
Dublin, Barrister-at-law, 10th June.

Suttpn, Thomas Esq., B. A., of Caius College, Cam-
bridge, to Mary, third daughter of the late John
Grace, Esq. of Whitby, near Chester, 8th June.

Thomas, Rev. William, D.D., late senior chaplain-
at Madras, to Mrs. Williams, widow of the Rev.
Richard Williams, prebendary of Lincoln, and
rector of Great Houghton, Northamptonshire, 3d
June.

Thompson, Thomas Kirkby, Esq. ofMecklenburgh-
square, to Harriett Alice, only daughter of the
late J. Turner, Esq. of Ham-house, near Cow-
bridge, Glamorganshire, 5th June.

Thrupp, Rev. Horace W., B.A., of Exeter College.
Oxford, to Gcorgina Theresa, second daughter of
Mr. Pyle, of Barnes terrace, 12th June.

Thuiilier, Henry Landor, Esq. of the Bengal Artil-
lery, Officiating Deputy Survey or- General of In-
dia, to Annie Charlotte, eldest dau. of George
Gordon Macpherson, Esq., 8th April.

Tilt, Edward John, Esq., M.D., of 10, Norfolk -
street, Park lane, to Dorothy Emma, daughter of
the late J. G. Sparrow, Esq of Gosficld-place^
Essex, 27th April.

Jniacke, Rev. Richard John, B.A., of St. Alban's
Hall, Oxford, rector of Newport, to Ann J;me,
youngest daughter of the Venerable Robt. Willis,
D.D., Archdeacon of Nova Scotia, 1st June.

Vagstaff, J., Esq., of Lullington, near Burton-on
Trent, to Fanny, fourth daughter of John Mt-e,
Esq. East Retford, 3rd June.

Valker, Henry, son of Henry Walker, Esq. of
Hampton-wick, to Sarah Ann, daughter of James
Payne, Esq., High-street, Marylebone, 27th June.
Wells, Capt. Francis Charles, of the 15th Bombay
Native Infantry, to Barbara Emilia Susanna,
daughter of Robert Thurnburn, Esq. of Alexan-
dria, llth May.

Wickenden, Thomas, eldest son of Thomas Wick-

enden, Esq. of Frindsbury, Kent, to Maria, young-
est daughter of Charles Harries, Esq. of Feu-

church-street and Guildford - street, llussei-sq
, 5th June.

June. (Wilson, G. V. , Esq.. of White-house, Killybegs,

Robinson, Charles Edward, Esq., io Mary, daugh- co. Donegal, Ireland, to Sophia, youngest dau.

ofS. Sheldon, Esq., 10th June, '
Wilson, Rev. Benjamin, to Fanny Sherard, second
daughter of the late Caryer bherard, Esq. 15th

i*wuiu*vs*j vuai ico .raunaiu, juaij., iti J

ter of the late Robert Brown llussel", Esq." of
Streatham, Surrey, 3d June.

Rye, Hubert Barnes, only son of Captain George
Hubert Rye, R.N., of Bideford, Devon, to Eliza,

third daughter of Mr. George Daniel, of Canon-

June.
Woolley, Thomas, third son of William Willey,

Esq. of 1'eckham, to Sarah, second daughter of
the late Thomas Kingsley, Esq. of the Grove,
Camberwell, 3rd June.

bury, 25th May.
Santi, Chevalier Charles to Caroline Davie,

second daughter of Sir H. Ferguson Davie,

Bart., 3 1st May. | Wyllie, Stewart Eaton, youngest son of the late

Scott, John, Esq., to Isabella, third daughter of Alexander Wyllie, Esq. of Thames Ditton, Sur-

the late Robert Carnachan, Esq. of Stranracr,! rey, to Jemima, eldest daughter of Samuel Kidd,

Galloway, 5th May. Esq. of Boulogne-sur Mer.

Shoobridgc, T. B., Esq., Craythorne House, Ten- : Zwinger, James, Esq. of Havre, to Leonora, young-

dcrdcn, to Mrs. Ball, widow of James lline Ball,! est daughter of A. A. Micvelle, Esq., of Gower-

i street, Bedford-square, Oth June.

Hnnotatett (JMritttarjn

Abdy, Charlotte Georgina, wife of Lieut.
Colonel Abdy, late of the East India
Company's service, on their Madras es-
tablishment, at Boulogne sur Mer, 2nd
June.

Ashby, Harry, Esq. at Plymouth, aged 69,
13th June.

Barstow, James Maltravers, only child of
James Barstow, Esq. Barrister at Law,
aged 11,12th June.

Bates, Charles Chester, youngest son of the
late John Henry Bates, Esq. of Denton,
aged 32, 1st June.

Bayne, William, Esq. J.P. and D.L. for
Middlesex, at Newgrove,?aged 86, llth
June.

Baynes, Captain Thomas, formerly of the
39th and 88th Regiments, at Brussels,
27th May. This veteran served in the
Peninsular campaign, and was present
at Waterloo, where he acted as Aide-
de-Camp to General Sir John Lam-
bert, G.C.B.

Beatson, Catherine B. C. C., second daugh-
ter of the late Major-General Beatson,
of Henley house, Frant, and formerly
Governor of St. Helena, at Edinburgh,
6th June.

Beckett, the Rt. Hon. Sir John, Bart, aged
73, 31st May. Sir John was the eldest
son of Sir John Beckett, Bart, of Somerby
Park, co. Lincoln, and grandson, mater-
nally, of Dr. Wilson, Bishop of Bristol.
He received his education at Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge, and there greatly dis-
tinguished himself, taking a wrangler's
degree in 1795. His first return to Par-
liament was by the Borough of Cocker-
mouth, in 1820. He subsequently sat
for Haslemere, and, finally, represented
the populous town of Leeds. In the
Duke of Wellington's administration he
held the appointments of Judge-Marshal
and Advocate-General ; and during Sir
Robert Peel's short-lived Ministry of
1834 resumed those offices. Politically,
he adhered with firmness to Tory princi-
ples, and voted against the Reform Bill,
the Municipal Corporation Bill, and the
Irish Tithe Measure. He had been a
Privy Councillor since 1817. Sir John
Beckett married in that year Lady Anne
Lowther, daughter of Willium, Earl of
Lonsdale, K.G. but lias died without
issue; the title devolving on his brother,
now Sir Thomas Beckett, Bart, the emi-
nent banker of Leeds.

Bellamy, Fanny Maria, youngest daughter
of the Rev. J. W. Bellamy, at Sellinge
Vicarage, 13th June.

Bird, Lewis, only son of the late Rev. Lewis
Bird, at Pennington Parsonage, aged 4
30th May.

Brackenbury, Sarah, relict of the late Ro-
bert Carr Brackenbury, Esq. of Raithby
hall, co. Lincoln, at Loughborough, 12th
June.

Buckle, Emma, eldest surviving daughte
of the late Matthew Buckle, Esq. of
Norton house, Chichester, 7th June.

Burrard, Philip James, Esq. Student, Clare
Hall, Cambridge, aged 21, llth June.

Bush, Thomas, Esq. of Melbury terrace,
aged 65, llth June.

Calmann, Dr. Ludwig, at Hammersmith,
aged 41, 6th June.

Campbell, Lieutenant- General Sir Colin,
K.C. B. Colonel of the 72nd Highlanders,
and late Governor of Ceylon, after an
illness of only three days, in King street,
St. James's, 13th June. This distin-
guished officer was fifth son of John
Campbell, Esq. of Melfort,in Argyllshire,
and brother of the late Admiral Sir Patrick
Campbell. He was born in 1777, and
joined the army in 1799, when he almost
immediately entered on the active duties
of his profession. His gallantry in the
Peninsula soon won for him the notice of
his illustrious Commander, and his name
and exploits occupy no inglorious space
in the official despatches. For a con-
siderable time he held the appointments
of Assistant- Adjutant- General and Assis-
tant-Quartermaster-General ; and for his
eminent services at Talavera, Busa^o,
Fuentes d'Onor, Badajoz, Salamanca,
Vittoria, the Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nives
and Toulouse, he received a Cross and
Six Clasps. At the consummating vic-
tory of Waterloo, Colonel Campbell
commanded the Royal Scots : and so
conspicuous was his conduct on that me-
morable occasion, that the officers of the
regiment testified their admiration by the
presentation of a sword valued at seventy
guineas, and the Sovereign conferred, in
recompense, the insignia of the Bath.
Sir Colin was also invested with the orders
of Maria Theresa, St. George, the Tower
and Sword, and Maximilian Joseph of
Bavaria. Subsequently, after acting for
several years as Lieutenant-Governor cf
Portsmouth, and holding the command

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

of the South-West District, he was ap-
pointed Lieutenant-Governor of Nova
Scotia, and finally, in 1840, made Go-
vernor of Ceylon, in which island he
remained until the recent appointment
of Lord Torrington. In, 1836 he became
Colonel of the 7'2nd Highlanders, and in
1838 reached the rank of Lieut. General.
At the period of his decease, Sir Colin
Campbell had just completed his 70th
year. He married Miss Harden, dau.
of Henry Harden, Esq. but was left a
widower in 1838, with three sons and
three daughters ; the former are Col.
Fitzroy Camphell ; Lieut. A. Campbell,
Aide-de-Camp to Sir Charles Napier in
India; and Capt. F. Campbell, R.N.
Of the daughters, the eldest, Maria
Louisa, married first to Hon. C. F. Nor-
ton, and second, to the Hon. Edmund
Phipps.

Campbell, Dougal, Esq. M. D. half-pay
Surgeon, Royal Artillery, at Boulogne
sur Mer, where he had been practising as
physician for upwards of 25 years, aged
67, 22nd May. He claimed the earldoms
of Annandale and Hartfell, and his bro-
ther, the late Colonel William Claud
Campbell, had claimed the earldoms of
Crawford and Lindsay.

Capher, the Rev. George, Vicar of Wher-
stead, Suffolk, aged 30, 14th June.

Chalmers, the Rev. Thomas, D.D. This
eminent divine was born in 1776, and
towards the beginning of the present cen-
tury he commenced his distinguished
theological career as Minister in the parish
of Kilmany, in Fifeshire. He remained
there for twelve years, and was translated
to the Tron Church of Glasgow in 1815.
During this time he produced his work
on Natural Theology, and his " Sketches
of Moral and Mental Philosophy." His
" Evidences of the Christian Revelation '
were originally published in the " Ency
clopaedia Britannica," under the manage-
ment of Dr. Brewster. In Glasgow his
astronomical and commercial discourses,
so sensible, so profound, and so Christian,
proved of incalculable benefit to the moral
and social improvement of his fellow
citizens — aye, and to many thousands of
his fellow men, both in and out of Scot-
land. His work on the civic and Christian
economy of large towns is of inestimable
value. In 1823 Dr. Chalmers accepted
the Chair of Moral Philosophy in the
New College of St. Andrew's, where he
remained until 1828, when he received
the appointment of Theological Professor
in the University of Edinburgh. From
the period of his settlement at St. Andrew
until his removal to Edinburgh, he pub-
lished his works on " Endowment^" unc:
on *' Political Economy," his "Bridge-

water Treatise," and his " Lectures on
the Romans." Altogether his published
works form twenty-five ;volumes : their
circulation has been very large. In 1843
the Doctor resigned his Professorship in
the University, and became Principal of
the New College. The death of Dr.
Chalmers was very sudden. He was found
on the morning of the 31st ult. dead in
his bed, to which he had retired the pre-
vious night in apparent health. As the
intellectual leader of the Free Church of
Scotland, as an able writer and preacher,
and as one of the best4of good men, Dr.
Chalmers leaves behind him an undying
reputation. The spiritual and earthly
welfare of all men was the mainspring of
his thoughts and actions. His tlove and
care extended to every class, but his heart
was chiefly with the poor of his people.
He devoted his great and comprehensive
powers to their enfranchisement from sin
and suffering. Under his influence, virtue
and happiness have become the inmates
of many, many cottage homes in Scotland.

Chandler, William Botsford. Esq barrister
at law, eldest son of the Hon. E. B.
Chandler, of Dorchester, in the province
of New Brunswick, llth June.

Chichester, Sir Arthur, Bart, of Greencastle.
Accounts from Ireland announce the de-
cease of this gentleman. He represented
a branch of the noble house of Donegal,
and resided at Greencastle, in the county
of that name. He was only son of the
Rev. William Chichester, by Mary Anne,
his first wife, daughter of George Harvey,

, Esq. of Malin Hall, and obtained the
patent of Baronetcy in 1821.

Clarance, Louisa, widow of the late C.
Clarance, Esq. of Lodge hall, co. Essex,
at No. 14, Billiter street, the residence
of her son, aged 83, 5th June.

Colvin, James, Esq. of 71, Old Broad street,
and of Little Bealings, co. Suffolk, at his
house, 55, Manchester street, Manchester
square, aged 80, 25th May.

Cooke, Mary Anne, wife of the Rev. Wm.
Cooke, Vicar of Bromyard, 28th May.

Cotton, Louisa Decima, youngest daughter
of the late Joseph Cotton, Esq. ofLayton,
Essex, 9th June.

Creed, Frances Gwynne, wife of Captain
Henry Creed, Hon. Company's Artillery,
and youngest dau. of Lieutenant General
Sir David Ximenes, K.C.H. at Bombay,
aged 21, llth April.

Cutler, Clara Eliza, wife of Frank Cutler,
Esq. Her Britannic Majesty's Vice Con-
sul, at Le Bocage, near Bordeaux, 30th
May.

Dagley, Mrs. Mary, at Connaught square,
3rd June.

Dalton, Charlotte Amelia, wife of Mr.
Francis Dalton, surgeon, and third dau.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

of the late John Bott, Esq. Secretary to
the Privy Purse of his late Majesty Wil-
liam IV. aged 34, 25th June.

Debenham, John, Esq. Com. R.N. aged
76, 15th June.

De Brett, Mary Isabella, second surviving
daughter of the late Capt. De Brett, of
the Bengal Art. 8th June.

Diggens, Francis, Esq. late Banker at
Chichester, at Upper George street, 26th
May.

Ellerby, Mrs. Elizabeth, of Whitby, aged
92, 13th June.

Elton, Lieut. Col. late of the 1st Dragoon
Guards, aged 63, 1st June.

Essington, William Webb, Esq. of the Firs,
Great Malvern, aged 61, 13th June.

Eyston, Jane, widow of the late Basil
Eyston, Esq. of East Hendred, Berks, at
Overbury, Worcestershire, 7th June.

Farrant, Thomas, Esq. of Norsted house,
Kent, and Great Hale, Lincolnshire, at
his house, 17, Montague- street, Portman
square, aged 74, 6th June.

Fawkes, Maria Sophia, relict of the late
Walter Fawkes, Esq., of Farnley hall,
Yorkshire, at Malvern, 4th June.

Fitzgerald, Sir William, Bart, of Carrygo-
ran, co. Clare, at Dublin, 30th May. He
was son of Edward Fitzgerald, Esq. of
Carrygoran, M.P. for the county of Clare,
to whom Col. Augustine Fitzgerald, of
Silver Grove, left a considerable portion
of his large property ; and succeeded to
the Baronetcy in 1834, at the decease of
his brother, Lieut.-Gen. Sir Augustine
Fitzgerald. Sir Wm. married, in 1305,
Emilia Gumming, youngest daughter of
William Veale, Esq. of Trevayler, in
Cornwall, and niece of Sir Alexander
Penrose Gumming Gordon, Bart, by whom
he has left issue, three sons — the eldest
Sir Edward Fitzgerald, the present Bart. ;
and one daughter Emilia Mary, wife of
the Hon. James Butler, 5th son of Lord
Donboyne.

Flockton, Thomasine Mary, only child of
the late Thomas Flockton, Esq. of Twick-
enham, 13th June.

Eraser, Lieut.-Col. K.H. formerly of the
83rd Regiment of Infantry, and for 23
years Fort-Major of Jersey, at Hounslow,
where he had gone for the benefit of his
health, 12th June.

Frome, Harriet, widow of Wm. Castle
Frome, late Lieut-Col. 22nd Regiment,
29th May.

Galloway, Margaret Bridger Goodrich, wife
of the Rev. James Galloway, at the
Rectory, Spaxton, Somersetshire, in the
43rd year of her age, 8th June.

Girling, William, gentleman, of Yaxham,
youngest son of the late William Girling,
Esq. of Twyford lodge and East Dere.
ham, and Catherine, his first wife, dau.
of Christopher Andrews, Esq. of Weston

Longueville, Norfolk, at Mattishall hall,
in his 83rd year, 29th April.

Graham, Mrs. Penelope, at Belgrave house,
Turnham Green, 22nd May.

Gtyll, Grace, youngest dau. of Wm. Gyll,
Esq. of Wraysbury, co. Bucks, aged 84,
1st June.

Hagerman, the Hon. Christopher Alexander,
one of the Judges of her Majesty's Court
of Queen's Bench, Upper Canada, at
Toronto, in the aged56, 14th May.

Harriott, the Rev. Wm., Vicar of Odiham,
Hants, aged 57, llth June.

Herbert, the Hon. and very Rev. William,
L.L.D., Dean of Manchester, died on
the 28th May, at his residence in Here-
ford-street, Park lane. He has been
somewhat of an invalid during the last
two years, but his decease occurred unex-
pectedly. On the morning of the day he
died, he appeared better than usual, and
went out; but about a quarter of an
hour after his return home, he suddenly
fell back in the chair and expired. Dr.
Herbert was born in 1778, the third son
of Henry first Earl of Carnarvon, by
Eliza Alicia Maria, his wife, daughter of
Charles Earl of Egremont. Thus, pater-
nally and maternally, he derived descent
from two of our most eminent families —
the Herberts and the Wyndhams. By
Letitia Dorothea, his wife, daughter of
Joshua fifth Viscount Allen, he leaves
two sons and two daughters.

Hewrett, Emily Jane, second dau. of Henry
William Hewrett, Esq. at Chatham, 9th
June.

Hodges, George, Esq. late of Felton, Salop,
aged 84, 3rd June.

Hously, Samuel, Esq. of Gloucester terrace,
Regents Park, 9th June.

Hurst, Thomas, Esq. formerly of the firm
of Longman and Co., aged 73, 2nd June.

Hutton, Richard, Esq. Barrister at Law,
at Newcastle on Tyne, llth June.

Innes, John William, Esq. of the Admiralty,
aged 68, 23rd May.

Irton, Lieut.-Col. Richard, of the Rifle
Brigade, aged 49, 9th June.

Johnson, Barbara, third daughter of the
late Charles Johnson, Esq. of Camber-
well, 13th June.

Jutting, Margaret, wife of John Henry
Jutting, Esq. formerly of London, at
Jersey, 13th June.

Kent, Frances, wife of the Rev. Anthony
Kent, of Oriel College, Oxon, 30th May.

Koch, Geo. Peter, eldest son of Peter Koch,
Esq. at Frankfort, aged 4 years, 6th June.

Lawson, John, Esq. of Shooter's hill and
Bexley heath, Kent, second son of the
late John Lawson, Esq. of Bowness hill,
in the co. of Cumberland, 5th June.

Little, John, Esq. at Walthamstow, aged 87,
2nd June.

Maclean, Allan, eldest son of the late

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Lieut.-Gen., Sir Joseph Maclean, K.C.H.
10th June.'

M'Pherson, Elizabeth, second daughter of
the late William North, Esq. of Chelsea,
and widow of the late Alexander M'Pher-
son, Esq., at her house, in Cadogan-
place, 15th June.

Magendie, Stuart, eldest son of the Rev.
Stuart Magendie, Vicar of Longden, 4th
June.

Marriott, Sarah, wife of T. Marriott, Esq.
at Pap ill on hall, co. Leicester, 13th June.

Martin, Selina, wife of the Rev. Samuel
Martin, Rectory, Warsop, Notts, 2nd
June.

Martin Thomas Byan, the eldest son of
Capt. William Fanshawe Martin, Royal
Navy, at Anglesey, near Gosport, 6th
June.

Milner, Col.^late of the 18th Dragoons,
and brother of Sir William Mordaunt
Milner, of Nun-Appleton, in the co.
York, at Mickleham, on the 31st May.

Murphy. Mary Ann, widow of the late Col.
John Murphy, of Malaga, a Knight, of
Alcantara, &c., at Montagu-place, Russell
square, aged 58, 24th May.

Odell, John, Esq. at Carreglea, co. Water-
ford, 26th May.

Pearson, Lieutenant-General Sir Thomas,
K.C.H., at Bath. This gallant' officer,
eon of the Rev. Thomas Horner Pearson,
entered the army in 1796, and served
against Flushing, in the Helder Expedi-
tion, in Egypt, North America, the West
Indies, and Portugal, and throughout the
last American War. He received several
severe wounds, and was one of the
general officers who enjoyed rewards for
distinguished services. He wore a medal
and one clasp for his conduct as Major of
the 23rd Foot at Albuera, and as second
in command at Chrystler's Farm. He
was born in 1782 ; and marriedr in 1810,
a daughter of General Coffin. At the
period of his decease, he held the Colo-
nelcy of the 85th regiment.

Paine, Wm. Pinke, Esq. at Farnham, aged
64, 4th June.

Papworth, John Buonarotti. The death of
this gentleman, late Vice-president of the
Royal Institute of British Architects,
occurred recently, at his residence, Park
End, St. Neot's; whither he had retired
from London, after more than fifty years
of professional practice. Early in life,
his excellent judgment and kind heart
acquired for him the intimacy of the
leading artists ; and, also, the confidence
of many wealthy amateurs as to the
direction of their patronage, and as to the
decoration of their mansions. In his
practice, he originated and accomplished
the adoption of the tasteful style of
modern furniture ; which led to his selec-
tion by Government for the trust of carry-

ing out the formation of the Somerset -
House School of Design. His work on
Garden and Rural Architecture, were the
result of his experience in Landscape
Gardening, which he joined as a profes-
sion with his other art. Amongst the
clients to whom he owed an extremely
varied practice, he numbered several of
the late branches of the Royal Family,
especially the Princess Charlotte : and
also the present King of Wurtemberg,
from whom he, having designed the
English Park and Palace at Kaunstadt,
received the appointment of Architect to
his Maiesty. Mr. Papworth was highly
respected, not only by his private friends
and by his clients, but also by those
severer judges, the members of his own
profession. *_

Perry, John, Esq. Bencher of Gray's Inn,
12th June.

of Phillips, Thomas Bentley, Esq. at Beverley,
aged 40, 10th June.

Plaskett, Sir Richard, K.M.G., of Hampton
House, Torquay, aged 66, 12th June.
Sir Richard Plasket was the third son of
Mr Thomas Flasket, of Clifford-street,
London ; he was born in 1 782, and early
in life filled an appointment in the Colo-
nial Department. He was subsequently
employed as private and public Secretary
to the Governments at Ceylon, Malta,
and the Cape of Good Hope. The im-
portant duties of these official places he
discharged for a period of twenty-six
years with so much satisfaction to the
Home Administration, that, in considera-
tion of his eminent sevices, he was nomi-
nated a Knight of the Order of St. Mi-
chael and St George, on its institution
in 1818. He married in 1836.

Preston, Lady Baird, of Valleyfield and
Frentown, widow of General the Right
Hon. Sir David Baird, Bart. G.C.B.,
K.C. In the absence of issue by her
marriage the estate of Valleyfield and
Frentown descend to her sister, Miss
Preston, at Valleyfield, Perthshire, 28th
May.

Rankin. the Rev. Francis John Harrison,
B.A., Her Majesty's Colonial and Gar-
rison Chaplain, at the Gambia, West
Coast of Africa, aged 41, 28th March.

Reed, Catherine, the wife of Assistant Com-
missary-General Reed, at Corfu, Ionian
Isles, aged 45.

Richards, John, Esq. of Wassell Grove,
Worcestershire, and of Calvert's-build-
ings, Southwark, formerly High-Sheriff
for the county of Worcester, and member
in two successive parliaments for the
borough of Knaresborough, aged 67.

Robertdean, Lieutenant Colonel James Wra.
late of the Bengal Cavalry, last surviv-
ing son of the late ( John Peter Robert'
dean,Esq. of Chelsea, aged 58, 15th June-

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Robertson, Major-General Archibald, o
the Bombay Army, at Baker-street, 9th
June.

Robinson, Nathaniel, Esq. at Littlebury
Essex, 23rd May.

Konald, Robert, Esq. at the Elms, Derby
23rd May.

Roope, Cabel, Esq. late of Oporto, in Wo-
burn square, aged 70, 8th June.

Ross, Amelia, wife of Major- General Si
Patrick Ross, Governor of St. Helen's
and youngest daughter of the late Major-
General William Sydenham, of the Hon
East India Company's Service, al
Brighton, 8th June.

Scott, Emma Jane, widow of the late Major
Hugh Scott, Deputy Adjutant Genera
of the Madras Army, and eldest daughte:
of the late Henry Harris, Esq. M.D.
member of the Madras Medical Board
at Bayswater, in the 52nd year of her
age, 31st May.

Selwyn, Albinia Frances, widow of the late
Dr. Congreve Selwyn, at Cheltenham, in
the 63rd year of her age, 29th May.

Sheridan, Charles Kinnaird, Esq. youngest
son of the late Thomas Sheridan, Esq,
at the English Embassy, Paris, aged 30,
30th May.

SJade, Emma, wife of R. G. Slade, Esq. ol
Gloucester street, Portman square, 10th
June.

Smith, Frances, widow of the Rev. Henry
Smith, of Hyde park Place, llth June.

Sommery, Madame la Marquise de, born
Riquet de Caraman — the last of eight
brothers and sisters, all of whom had to

, bear the storm of the French Revolution,
its prisons, exile, wars, and other trials,
yet all of whom reached an advanced age
—departed this life at Bath, in the 78th
year of her age, 22nd May. She was
born on the 28th of October, 1768; and
was married to the late Marquess de
Sommery in 1786, She was one amongst
the last presentations at Versailles, during
the splendour, pomp, and ceremony of
the ancient Court, and attracted the ad
miration of all by her grace and beauty ;
but these personal ad^ antages added to
others which she possessed, had no power
to seduce her heart; misfortune soon
taught her to despise the flattering illu-
sions of this world, and she gave
up without reserve to sentiments of piety
and religion, and to the fulfilment
affections and duties, from which nothing
could withdraw her attention. She be-
came the mother of fourteen children, of
whom only six survive. During the trials
of emigration she displayed heroic acts
of devotedness, experienced all the severe
privations of exile, and bore all with
astonishing firmness and submission.

Her religious and political convictions,
joined to a sacred veneration for the me-
mory of her cherished husband, who died
in Bath in 1814 all concurred to induce
her to fix her residence in England, where
she sought refuge in the year 1795, after
having passed a few years in Germany.
It was by these considerations that she
felt herself called upon to make the sa-
crifice of family interests (interests, never-
theless, most dear to her), and she never
more saw her native land.

Sorelli, Guido, translator of " Paradise
Lost," at Church Place, Piccadilly, 28th
May.

Starkey, Thomas, Esq. of Springwood,
Huddersfield, 25th May. The Leeds
Mercury, of the 29th May, in announcing
this melancholy event, thus refers to the
great public loss sustained in the death of
Mr. Starkey : " It is with feelings of
sincere regret that we have this week to
announce the death of Thomas Starkey,
Esq. one of the West Riding Magistrates,
which took place at 3 o'clock on Tuesday
afternoon, at his residence at Springwood.
Mr. Starkey we believe was at the ma-
nufactory at Longroyd Bridge, (Starkey
Brothers) on the Tuesday previous. The
immediate cause of his death was a
virulent attack of typhus fever. A gloom
has thus suddenly been cast over the
town as his loss will be heavily felt. He
was an active and judicious magistrate,
and bore the character of dispensing
justice with impartiality. " The deceased
gentleman, Thomas Starkey of Spring-
wood, with his two elder brothers, Wil-
liam Starkey of Wakefield, and John
Starkey, Esq. of Thornton Lodge, J. P.,
and his younger brother, Joseph Starkey,
Esq. of Heaton Lodge, near Hudders-
field, J. P., were the four sons of
the late John Starkey, Esq. of Wheat
House, Huddersfield, by Abigail, his
wife, daughter of William Dewhirst,
Esq. of Warley, co. York, and descended
from a branch of the ancient and respect-
able family of Starkies of Huntroyd, co.
Lancaster. Mr. Starkey married 5 Oct.
1830, Charlotte, dau. of William Stan-
ton, Esq. of Throp House, Stroud, and
has left two sons and four daughters,
herself Stephenson, John, Esq. at Newark, Notts,

aged 81 , 3rd June.

of Stokes, George, Esq. formerly of Col-
chester, at Tyndale House, Cheltenham,
31st May.

Stuart Frances, second daughter of the
Hon. and Rev. Andrew Godfrey Stuart,
4th June.

Stuart, Lady Dudley, second daughter of
Lucien Bonaparte, Prince of Canino, at
Rome, 19th May.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Titley, Eliza, wife of the Rev. Peter Tit ley,
at Penloyn, Llanrwst, North Wales, 16th
May.

Todd, Maria Caroline, wife of Joseph
Todd, Esq. of Moulsey Park, Surrey,
14th June.

Tulloch, Lieut. Donald, Madras Army, son
of Col. Tulloch, C.B., Commissary- Ge-
neral, Madras, at sea, 24th July.

Turner, Mary Anne, wife of Edward E
Turner, Esq. of Cannock, co. Stafford,
7th June.

Watson, Lieut.-Col. Sir Frederick, K.T.S.
This gallant officer died on the 21st May,
in Portland-place, after a protracted ill-
ness, brought on by his services in the
Peninsular War. Sir F. Watson was
present at most of the battles in the Pe-
ninsular, viz. — Busaco, Albuera, Badajos
Vittoria, Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nive, Campo
Major, Olivenca, Alba de Tormes. Pre-
vious to entering the Portuguese service
he was Captain in the First or Roya
Dragoons. He was son of the late Lieut.-
Col. Christopher Watson, formerly of the
Third, or King's Own Dragoons, o:
Westwood House, near Colchester. Hii
remains were interred, at Kensall Green
Cemetry.

Watts, the| &ev' William, A.M. incumben
of Christ Church, St. Giles-in-the- Fields
llth June.

Wells, Angela Helen, youngest child o
Nathaniel Wells, Esq. of Piercefield, co
Monmouth, aged 16, lith June.

Welsted, Sophia, widow of the late Charles
Welsted, Esq. of Valentines, Essex, 28th
May.

White, Thomas, Esq. of Mims Hall, South
Mims, Middlesex, aged 46, 12th June.

Willoughby, Robert, Esq. late of Kingsbury
Cliff, co. Warwick, aged 83, 25th May.

Wilmot, Sir John Eardley Eardley, Bart,
of Berkswell Hall, co. Warwick. The

death of this gentleman, subduing all pri-
vate and party animosity, has called forth
an universal expression of regret. The
melancholy event occurred at Hobart
Town, on the 3rd February. Sir Eardley,
only son of John Wilmot, Esq. of Berks-
well Hall, a Master in Chancery, and
grandson of Sir John Eardley Wilmot,
Knt. a celebrated lawyer, at one time
Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas,
represented a branch of the ancient Der-
byshire family of Wilmot, of Chaddesden,
and derived, in the female line, from the
Eardleys, of Eardley, in Staffordshire.
He was born 21st February, 1783, and
married twice. By his first wife, Eliza-
beth Emma, daughter of C. H. Parry,
M.D. of Bath, he leaves a large family, of
which the eldest son is the present Sir
John Eardley Wilmot, Bart. By his
second wife, Elizabeth, eldest daughter of
Sir Robert Chester, of Bush Hall, Herts,
Sir Eardley also had issue. From 1 832
to 1843, he sat in Parliament for Warwick-
shire, but retired in the latter year, on
being appointed Governor of Van
Diemen's Land. The duties of that office
he performed until 1846, when he was
superseded by Charles Joseph Latrobe,
Esq. Previously to his departure from
England, the late Baronet had acted as a
Deputy-Lieutenant for Warwickshire, and
was for several years the able and re-
spected Chairman of the Quarter Sessions.
The recent debate in the House of Com-
mons explains fully the particulars of
Sir Eardley Wilmot's recal from his
Government.

Wilson, John James, Esq. Surgeon, of
Dough ty-street, 15th June.

Wortham, Cecil Proctor, Esq. at Madras,
29th March.

Yates, Francis, Esq. at rAllrighton, Salop,
aged 81, 26th May.

THE PATRICIAN.

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

(Continued.)

Les homines apprennent a se moderer en voyant mourir les rois.

BOSSUET.

COMMON fame has not only done much injustice to the memory of Richard
III, but it has thrown a kind of delusive halo around the reputation of his
successor, HENRY VII . As a monarch the latter was decidedly the greater
tyrant of the two. Shakespeare has made the world believe that Henry was
a hero, but in reality this king was a cold, calculating and cruel despot. His
avaricejmew no bounds ; and, to gratify that base passion, he was perpetu-
ally oppressing his subjects with illegal taxes, fines, and other arbitrary ex-
actions. So barefaced and brutal was his system of plunder, that his son
and successor was, on his accession, obliged to satisfy the clamour of the
people by putting to death Empson and Dudley, the agents of his father's
extortions. Henry VII's treatment of his relative, the unfortunate Earl of
Warwick, whom, after a long and unjustifiable incarceration, he caused to
be judicially murdered, equals any charge brought against his predecessor,
even if it were proved. To his wife and children, Henry was harsh in the
extreme, and seems, in common with most misers, to have lost all
domestic feeling, except, indeed, in the advancement of his own fortune and
power by procuring great matrimonial alliances for his sons and daughters.
His anxiety for a connection with the crown of Spain, led to his compelling
his two sons in succession to wed Katherine of Arragon, which was the
fertile cause of such subsequent misery. The death of Henry VII was
characteristic of his life. It occurred just as he was meditating a second
'marriage. His neglected queen had some time previously died in childbed,
and he was hesitating, for a new consort, between the Queen- do wager of
Naples, and the Duchess- dowager of Savoy, both ladies of enormous
wealth. But the decline of his health put an end to all such thoughts ; and
he began to cast his eye towards that future existence, which the iniquities
and severities of his reign rendered a very dismal prospect to him. To
allay the terrors under which he laboured, he endeavoured, by distributing
alms, and founding religious houses, to make atonement for his crimes, and
to purchase, by the sacrifice of part of his ill-gotten treasures, a reconcilia-
tion with his offended Maker. Remorse even seized him, at intervals, for
the abuse of his authority by Empson and Dudley; but not sufficient
to make him stop the rapacious hand of those oppressors. Sir William

VOL. IV. NO. XVI. H

96 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

Capel was again fined £2000 under some frivolous pretence, and was com-
mitted to the Tower for daring to murmur against the iniquity. Harris, an
Alderman of London, was indicted, and died of vexation before his trial
came to an issue. Sir Laurence Ailmer, who had been Mayor, and his two
sheriffs, were condemned in heavy fines, and sent to prison till they made
payment. The King* gave countenance to all these oppressions ; till death,
by its nearer approaches, impressed new terrors upon him ; in his final and
fearful agony he ordered, by a general' clause in his will, that restitution
should be made to all those whom he had injured. He died of a con-
sumption, April 22, 1509, at his favourite palace of Richmond, after
a reign of twenty-three years and eight months, in the fifty-second year of
his age.

One reason perhaps for the leniency of posterity with regard to the me-
mory of Henry VII, is that his misdeeds sank into insignificance and oblivion,
before the surpassing horrors of the succeeding reign. Yet it has often
struck us as singular, that all the English historians,* of whatever creed
or party, can look as calmly as they do on the character and conduct
of HENRY VIII, a prince whose career presents one of the darkest
eras of atrocity in the annals of the world. Vain would it be to seek
in the catalogue of Christian monarchs for another monster like this : even
among the regal and imperial enormities of Pagan antiquity, his equal can
scarcely be found. He had the extreme cruelty of Tiberius, without his
political sagacity. He was a domestic murderer like Nero, whom he
exceeded in treachery and lust ; but he was sane, and the Roman was
a lunatic. Herod Agrippa is perhaps Henry's nearest prototype, yet even
Herod evinced some feeling for others beyond the satisfaction of his
own inordinate selfishness : Henry never did. Herod bitterly mourned
Mariamne slain in his wrath. The base Judean did at least admit that he had

thrown a pearl away

Richer than all his tribe.

There is no instance recorded of Henry's showing a moment's grief or
regret for the death of wife, relative, friend, or any other human being,
however unjustly or cruelly sacrificed. The most extraordinary part of his
dark history, is that Christian England, previously so sensitive to crimes
even suspected to be committed by its sovereigns, and at all times naturally
averse to cruelty, should for thirty- seven years patiently suffer its territory
to become the arena of a series of atrocities which would have even made
Pagan Rome rise against the miscreant who was the perpetrator of them.
Unhappily moreover, we find the name of Henry connected with religion,
and it is probably not a little on this account, that history deals so tenderly
with his infamy ; for Henry, according to the passion of the moment,
favoured one or other of the fierce polemical factions that were then dis-
tracting Europe, and each in its turn gave out something' in his praise.
Thus it is curious to observe the Protestant writers speaking of Henry's
munificence and sagacity during the ascendency of the monastery- destroy ing
Cromwell; while even Dr. Lingard, the Catholic annalist, says Henry
was quite a virtuous person as long as Wolsey was in power. It is an
insult to religion to base its sacred cause for an instant, be the sect what it
may, upon any thing done by this king, alike the enemy of God and man.
But we must now pass over his dreadful life to his no less awful demise.

* The intelligent Mr. Keightley, a stanch Protestant, is perhaps the only exception.
In his History of England, Henry is rightly dealt with.

THE DEATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 97

The termination of Henry VIIFs existence had much in it, which rer
sembled the deaths of Herod and Tiberius. As with the Jewish and
the Roman tyrants, his body had become, from his excesses, one mass of
foul disease and putrid corruption, and like Herod, Henry was committing
murder as he lay on his death bed. Herod, it is well known, beside
having his son executed five days before he expired, ordered that the
principal men of the Hebrew nation should be enclosed in the Hippodrome,
and that, while he was giving up the ghost, they should be slaughtered,
to ensure a general lamentation among his people when he was dead. How
nearly similar was the conduct of Henry. Nine days before he breathed
his last, he caused the barbarous execution of his relative the gallant,
gentle Earl of Surrey, who ranks among the last ornaments of England's chi-
valry, and the first of her poets. The charge against Surrey was that he had
quartered on his shield (as he had a perfect right to do) the arms of Edward
the Confessor. On the same accusation, Surrey's father, the Duke of
Norfolk, the first man in the realm, was speedily attainted by an obsequious
parliament, and the tyrant, while at the verge of his mortal agony, on the
morning of his last day, issued orders that the aged Duke should be
beheaded. Providence, however, interfered to prevent both the ancient,
and the more modern accumulation of atrocity. The prisoners of the
Hippodrome, and the inmate of the Tower, were alike rescued by the deaths
of their respective oppressors. The actual demise of Henry, occurred
thus. The king had lain for some time in mortal sickness, apparently
unconscious and regardless of his immediate danger, but for several days
all those near him plainly saw his end approaching. He was become so
froward and fierce, that no one durst inform him of his condition ; and
as some persons during this reign had suffered as traitors for foretelling the
king's death, every one was afraid, lest in the transports of his fury he might,
on this pretence, punish capitally the author of such friendly intelligence.
At last Sir Anthony Denny ventured to disclose to him the fatal secret,
exhorted him to prepare for the fate which was awaiting him, and
advised him to send for Archbishop Cranmer. He heard the announce-
ment unmoved, and said, "let me sleep awhile." On' awaking, he
dispatched a messenger for Cranmer, but before the prelate arrived he was
speechless, though he still seemed to retain his senses.

Cranmer implored him to give some sign of his dying in the faith of
Christ : it is said that he squeezed the Archbishop's hand, but even this
is a matter of doubt : he expired just as the exhortation fell from
Cranmer's lips. And this was the end of a king, who had indeed never
spared man in his anger, nor woman in his lust. He died in the fifty-sixth
year of his age and the thirty- eighth of his reign : his life had been to
himself one undeviating course of good fortune, which may be accounted
for by the fearful consideration that crimes such as his are too heavy to
meet with any earthly retribution. By his will, Henry VIII left money for
masses to be said for delivering his soul from purgatory.

EDWARD VI, whose youth, and whose mental incapacity consequent upon
continual sickness can be the only excuses for the executions of his two uncles,
and the unjust endeavour to deprive his sisters of the Crown, lived, and died
wretchedly. After a complete series of maladies, which ended in consump-
tion, Edward's demise was in this manner. When the settlement, setting
the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth aside was made, with so many inauspi-
cious circumstances, Edward visibly declined every day ; and small hopes
were entertained of his recovery. To make matters worse, his physicians
were dismissed by Northumberland's advice, and an order of council ;

H 2

98 THB DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

he was put into the hands of an ignorant woman, who undertook .in a little
time to restore him to his former state of health. After the use of her
medicines, all the bad symptoms increased to the most violent degree :
he felt a difficulty of speech and breathing ; his pulse failed, his legs
swelled, his colour became livid; and many other symptoms appeared
of his approaching end. He expired at Greenwich, July 6, 1553, in
the sixteenth year of his age, and the seventh of his reign.

We have already alluded to MARY I as the most calumniated monarch in
English history, and we could easily show that such is the fact ; but the
discussion would be here too long and out of place. Suffice it to say that
the two great offences charged against her, the death of Lady Jane Grey,
and the persecution for heresy may be thus explained. So far from
hurrying the fate of Lady Jane Grey, who,- be it remembered, was
attainted according to strict course of law, Mary actually personally inter-
fered with her Ministers to save her life, and after pardoning her father,
the Duke of Suffolk, merely retained her under her sentence in the Tower.
But Suffolk, regardless of the Queen's clemency, instantly raised another
rebellion against her, and then it became a matter of salvation with Mary's
government to allow the law to take its course against the unfortunate
Jane. Mary was reluctant to the last, but she lived at a period when life
was very easily sacrificed, and she was overpersuaded. As to the persecu-
tion, even without regard to the gross exaggeration of the real facts, it was
owing not to the Queen, but to the bloody nature of the religious contest
then going on. Toleration was unknown at the time to Catholic or Protes-
tant : both sides preached and practised the burning of their opponents,
and hundreds upon hundreds became the miserable victims of a polemic
fury which profaned Christianity and religion. These dreadful burnings
commenced more than a century and a half before Queen Mary's reign.
The law which sanctioned them was an act of Henry IV, and his son the
great Henry V, whose memory is held so dear, put it often in force.
Numbers perished by fire under Henry VIII and Edward VI, and other
succeeding kings. Burning, as a punishment, was not actually abolished
until the reign of George III. A woman named Catherine Hayes was
burnt alive in 1726, for the murder of her husband, the crime being deemed
petty treason. The real truth why the horrid custom is more noticed
during Mary's rule is, that she, like Richard III, was succeeded by
enemies, whose object was to amplify and extend every accusation against
her. The persecution was the cruel madness of the age, and should
no more be ascribed to Mary, than the executions of witches, which hap-
pened in his reign, to Charles II. But our subject lies with the death and
not the life of Mary. Her reign was as short as it was sad.

Her health had always been delicate ; from the time of her first supposed
pregnancy she was afflicted with frequent and obstinate maladies. Tears no
longer afforded her relief from the depression of her spirits ; and the re-
peated loss of blood, by the advise of her physicians, had rendered her pale,
languid, and emaciated. Nor was her mind more at ease than her body.
The exiles from Geneva, by the number and virulence of their libels, threat-
ening her life, kept her in a constant state of fear and irritation ; and to
other causes of anxiety, had been added the insalubrity of the season and
the loss of Calais. In August she experienced a slight febrile indisposition
at Hampton Court, and immediately removed to St. James's. It was
soon ascertained that her disease was the same fever which had proved fatal
to thousands of her subjects ; and, though she languished for three months,

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 99

with several alterations of improvement and relapse, she never recovered
sufficient to leave her chamber. During this long confinement, Mary
edified all around her by her piety, and her resignation to the will of
Providence. On the morning of her death, Mass was celebrated in her
chamber. She was perfectly sensible, and expired a few minutes before
the conclusion, on the 17th November, 1558. Her friend and kins-
man, Cardinal Pole, who had long been confined with a fever, survived
her only twenty-two hours. He had reached his fifty-ninth, she her forty-
second year.

One proof of the fierceness of the feeling raised against Mary, is that
no credit is given to her for an exclamation with regard to the loss of
Calais, which she made on her death bed, and which evinced how acutely
she felt aught that diminished the greatness of England. ' ' The name
of Calais" she said "will be found engraven on my heart, when I am
dead." Mary is the only sovereign of the house of Tudor, who committed
no act of private atrocity, and yet, in history, even her father's reputation
compared to hers, is fair and good to see.

The great Queen ELIZABETH, lost, at the hour of death, that courage
and fortitude which so characterised her life : yet, unlike her father,
she did give proof that she possessed a conscience. Passion or policy had
led her to perpetrate many cruelties. The murder of poor Mary Stuart is
the worst crime recorded, on clear testimony, against the crown of England ;
and one cannot but view as a natural consequence the dying terrors of the
guilty party, even though a person as sagacious, and as strong minded
as Elizabeth really was. The fairest, and most graphic account of this
mighty sovereign's demise, is that given by Lingard, who, however, rejects
as apocryphal the well known story of the ring, said to have been sent by
the Earl of Essex through the Countess of Nottingham, to Elizabeth, but
not delivered by the Countess, who revealed her treachery on her death bed.
According to Dr. Lingard, the termination of the Queen's life is thus reported.

Elizabeth had surprised the nations of Europe by the splendour of
her course : she. was destined to close the evening of her life in gloom and
sorrow. The bodily infirmities which she suffered may have been the con-
quences of age ; her mental afflictions are usually traced by historians to
i egret for the execution of Essex. That she occasionally bewailed his fate,
that she accused herself of precipitation and cruelty, is not improbable : but
there were disclosures in his confession, to which her subsequent melancholy
may with great probability be ascribed. From that document she learned
the unwelcome and distressing truth, that she had lived too long ; that her
favourites looked with impatience to the moments which would free them
from her control ; and that the very men on whose loyalty she had hitherto
reposed with confidence, had already proved unfaithful to her. She became
pensive and taciturn ; she sate whole days by herself, indulging in the most
gloomy reflections ; every rumour agitated her with new and imaginary
terrors ; and the solitude of her court, the opposition of the commons
to her prerogative, and the silence of the citizens when she appeared in
public, were taken by her for proofs that she had survived her popularity,
and was become an object of aversion to her subjects. Under these
impressions, she assured the French ambassador that she had grown weary
of her very existence.

Sir John Harrington, her godson, who visited the court about seven
months after the death of Essex, has described, in a private letter, the state

100 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

in which he found the Queen. She was altered in her features, and reduced
to a skeleton. Her food was nothing but manchet bread and succory
pottage. Her taste for dress was gone. She had not changed her clothes
for many days. Nothing could please her ; she was the torment of the
ladies who waited on her person. She stamped with her feet, and swore
violently at the objects of her anger. For her protection she had ordered
a sword to be placed by her table, which she often took in her hand, and
thrust with violence into the tapestry of her chamber. About a year later Sir
John returned to the palace, and was admitted to her presence. " I found
her," he says, " in a most pitiable state. She bade the Archbishop ask me,
if I had seen Tyrone. I replied, with reverence, that I had seen him with
the Lord Deputy. She looked up with much choler and grief in her
countenance, and said, ' O, now it mindeth me, that you was one who saw
this man elsewhere;' and hereat she dropped a tear, and smote her bosom.
She held in her hand a golden cup, which she often put to her lips : but,
in truth, her heart seemed too full to need more filling."

In January she was troubled with a cold, and about the end of the
month removed, on a wet and stormy day, from Westminster to Richmond.
Her indisposition increased : but, with her characteristic obstinacy, she
refused the advice of her physicians. Loss of appetite was accompanied
with lowness of spirits, and to add to her distress, it chanced that her
intimate friend, the Countess of Nottingham, died. Elizabeth now spent
her days and nights in sighs and tears ; or, if she condescended to speak,
she always chose some unpleasant and irritating subject ; the treason and
execution of Essex, or the reported project of marrying the Lady Arabella
into the family of Lord Hertford, or the war in Ireland and the pardon of
Tyrone. In the first week of March all the symptoms of her disorder
were considerably aggravated : she lay during some hours in a state of
stupour, rallied for a day or two, and then relapsed. The council, having
learned from the physicians that her recovery was hopeless, prepared to
fulfil their engagements with the King of Scots, by providing for his peace-
able succession to the throne. The Lord Admiral, the Lord Keeper, and
the Secretary, remained with the Queen at Richmond : the others repaired
to Whitehall. Orders were issued for the immediate arrest and transpor-
tation to Holland of all vagrants and unknown persons found in London or
Westminster ; a guard was posted at the exchequer ; the great horses were
brought up from Reading ; the court was supplied with arms and ammuni-
tion ; and several gentlemen, " hunger- starved for innovation," and there-
fore objects of suspicion, were conveyed prisoners to the Tower.

The Queen, during the paroxysms of her disorder, had been alarmed at
the frightful phantoms conjured up by her imagination. At length she
obstinately refused to return to her bed ; and sate both day and night on a
stool bolstered up with cushions, having her finger in her mouth and her
eyes fixed on the floor, seldom condescending to speak, and rejecting every
offer of nourishment. The bishops and the lords of the council advised and
entreated in vain. For them all, with the exception of the Lord Admiral,
she expressed the most profound contempt. He was of her own blood :
from him she consented to accept a basin of broth : but when he urged her
to return to her bed, she replied that, if he had seen what she saw there,
he would never make the request. To Cecil, who asked her if she had
seen spirits, she answered, that it was an idle question beneath her notice.
He insisted that she must go to bed, if it were only to satisfy her people.
"Must?" she exclaimed, "is must a word to be addressed to Princes?

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 101

Little man, little man, thy father, if he had been alive, durst not have used
that word : but thou art grown presumptuous because thou knowest that I
shall die." Ordering the others to depart, she called the Lord Admiral to
her, saying in a piteous tone, " my Lord, I am tied with an iron collar about
my neck." He sought to console her, but she replied, " no : I am tied,
and the case is altered with me."

At the commencement of her illness the Queen had been heard to say
that she would leave the Crown to the right heir: it was now deemed
advisable to elicit from her a less equivocal declaration on behalf of the
King of Scots. On the last night of her life the three lords waited
upon her ; and, if we may believe the report circulated by their partisans,
received a favourable answer. But the maid of honour who was present
has left us a very different tale. According to her narrative the persons
first mentioned to the Queen by the Lords were the King of France and the
King of Scotland. The Queen neither spoke nor stirred. The third name
was that of the Lord Beau champ. At the sound her spirit was roused ;
and she hastily replied, " I will have no rascal's son in my seat," They
were the last words which she uttered. She relapsed into a state of insen-
sibility, and at three the next morning tranquilly breathed her last. This
occurred on the 24th March, 1603, in the seventieth year of her age and,
the forty- sixth of her reign. By six o'clock the same day, the lords from
Richmond joined those in London ; and a resolution was taken to proclaim
James as heir to the Queen, both by proximity of blood and by her own
appointment on her death-bed.

Providence points out an awe-inspiring lesson in the deaths of the three
principal Sovereigns of the house of Tudor — Henry VII, Henry VIII, and
Elizabeth. Unvarying prosperity had attended them while living : the
avarice of the one, the luxury of the other, and the ambition of the third,
had been gratified even to their utmost hope : their cups of vicious desires
had overflowed the brim, and yet, when dying how utterly miserable they
were ! What objects of wretchedness and horror did they become when
the hand of God fell upon them ! The peasant, nay the meanest of man-
kind— the very beggar whose soul might perhaps have to wing its flight
from a dunghill — would have shrunk in terror from .regal felicity such as
theirs, coupled with such conclusions. The words of the sacred orator we
have quoted above are, if ever, to have signification here. Men should in-
deed learn moderation when they know how these Tudor monarchs died.

102

-
MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE.

SPAIN, how art thou fallen ! Thou who but a few hundred years ago stoodst
in the very front of Europe, — the conqueror and civilised ruler of vast na-
tions that had oceans between them ; thou, the arbiter of all chivalry, rank,
gentility, courtesy, and refinement ; — a potentate, too, in literature, without
which no nation can be great, — the works of thy Calderon, and De Vega,
and Cervantes, the delight and talk of the universe. Thus, indeed, thou
wast ; — and what art thou now ?

O what a noble state is here overthrown !

The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword :

Th' expectancy and rose of the fair world,

The glass of fashion, and the mould of form,

Th' observ'd of all observers ! quite, quite down !

A horrid civil warfare, which, since the period of the contest for the
succession in the beginning of the last century, down to the present time,
has continued to rage with scarcely an interval of peace, proves even more
detrimental to the literary than to the political greatness of Spain. Writing,
beyond the bombastic and virulent articles in the newspapers, and some
trashy publications, such as tales and novels, contemptible in style and sub-
ject, appears now obsolete in this devoted country. Yet this is nowise owing
to the mental incapability of the people of Spain; The natural character-
istics of dignified thought, brilliant and varied imagination, and ready
humour, remain as strong as ever. But it is the war, and, we maintain, the
war alone, which effects this intellectual desolation. In strong proof of
such being the case, the romances to which we are now going to allude,
and which are the only two that do credit to recent letters in Spain, were
brought out at times when peace shed momentary and flickering rays of its
benign influence over the land of Castile. The first of these in priority of
publication is " El Conde Candespina, Novela historica original," which
issued from the press of Madrid in 1832. Its author is Don Patricio de la
Escosura, then an alferez or ensign of artillery in the royal guard. This
romance, though, as may easily be supposed, inferior to similar contemporary
productions in this country, or in France or Germany, is a tale of no incon-
siderable merit. The language is good, the characters are very well drawn,
many of the scenes are lively, and the whole has an agreeable tone of nation-
ality. The story dates at the beginning of the twelfth century : it is founded
upon the fierce dissensions of Urraca, Queen of Castile and Leon, and her
second husband, Alfonso, King of Arragon. The hero of the narrative,
Don Gomez, Conde de Candespina, had loved Urraca prior to this unfor-
tunate second marriage, and had been recommended, although unsuccessfully
by the assembled nobility of the kingdom, as a consort for the heiress Urraca,
more agreeable to her future subjects than a foreigner. During her misera-
ble wedlock with the King of Arrugon, Don Gomez is her faithful and zeal-
ous cavalier, repeatedly delivering her from Don Alfonso's tyranny ; he,
however, conceals his undying passion until after her divorce on the

MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE. 103

ground of consanguinity, when he contends for her love with Don" Pedro,
Conde de Lara, who had not waited for the sentence that made his suit
lawful, to seek the Queen's hand by flattering her vanity. Of the levity and
self-complacency of her Majesty, the following scene is an amusing and
happy illustration. Candespina has, with a very few assistants, surprised
the Arragonese castle in which Donna Urraca with a favourite maid of honour,
Leonora Guzman, was kept prisoner by her husband, who would arrogate all
authority in her dominions. The Conde has released the Queen, and with
equal skill and secresy escorts her safely to the actual frontiers of Castile.
The party halts for the last time in an Arragonese village : —

" The house that appeared the least miserable was selected, and, without
further ceremony, Don Gomez sent its master orders to receive the Queen,
not even announcing her exalted dignity. The plebeians were then accus-
tomed to submit voluntarily or perforce to the will of the nobles, who issued
their orders at the point of the spear, and did not wonder at their exactions.
Accordingly, the Arragonese peasant expressed no repugnance to affording
the hospitality thus courteously solicited. He showed his guests into what
was called a saloon, in which no furniture was seen beyond a coarse deal
table, a few benches of the same material, and a large leather chair, that
was evidently the oldest and most respectable occupant of the place. In
this saloon was an alcove, containing a bed, perfectly in keeping with the
rest of the furniture, and destined for Donna Urraca.

" The Queen, upon entering this miserable hut, cast a glance around her,
and a deep sigji told how much she missed the splendour of a court. The
Conde understood her, but unable to remedy a single discomfort, he deemed
it wise to say nothing upon such subjects. Engrossed by his plan respecting
Don Hernando's mission, he scarcely waited till she had seated herself, when
he bent his knee before her, and besought her permission to prefer a petition.
Having obtained it, he set forth, clearly but concisely, the necessity that
existed for soliciting the aid of the Senor de Najara, to escort her to Burgos,
where Don Alfonso's partisans bore sway. The Queen listened to his dis-
course with evident signs of impatience, and then said, " Never should I
have believed that the Queen of Castile would be reduced to beg the aid
of her vassals." " Your highness," returned Don Gomez, "has not under-
stood, assuredly by my fault, what I meant to say. There is no question of
your highness's begging any one's aid, but of your condescending to an-
nounce your arrival in your own dominions to the Senor de Najara ; an
honour which will pledge that cavalier to your defence." — " And how,
Conde, do I chance to need his help ? Have I not plenty of vassals in
Castile as noble, as powerful, and as bold as he ?" — " Nobles there are in
Castile, Senora, many, and very powerful ; but I grieve to say, not all per-
haps". ..." I understand you. You fear that they may adhere to the King
of Arragon in preference to their natural Queen. Whilst they believed
me his lawful wife, whilst 1 was absent, they may perhaps have submitted
to Don Alfonso. But when I present myse'lf, trust me, Conde, there will
not be a single one who will not follow my standard." — " So it should be ;
so I would have it, but dare not rely upon its being so. — At least let your
highness be assured that it were imprudent to present yourself before
Burgos, without a stronger escort than that which now attends you." —
" How odd you are, Conde ! Do you think the force with which you under-
took to snatch me from the power of my enemies inadequate to escort me
in mv own dominions."

104 MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE.

" Donna Leonora, who was present at this conversation, perceived the just-
ness of the Conde's views ; but saw, at the same time, that it was useless
to contend against the Queen's vanity : and that, unless the affair could be
presented to her under a totally different light, she would never consent to
that which was indispensable to her own interest. A happy expedient suddenly
occurred to her, and, at the risk of incurring a sharp reproof, she ventured
to mix in the conversation, saying to the Queen — " If your highness would
permit me. . . . " — " How, Leonora, do you too mistrust the loyalty of my
vassals ?" — " No, Senora," returned the dextrous court favourite ; " so far
from it, I hold the Conde's fears to be wholly unfounded." — "Donna
Leonora !" exclaimed the Conde, provoked to see the lady in waiting thus
spontaneously oppose his judicious plan ; "Donna Leonora, have you maturely
considered. ..." " Let her speak," said the Queen, interrupting him.
" Go on, Leonora; let us see if you can convince this good cabellero." —
" I cannot think it necessary," said Leonora, " even to refute the fears which
the Conde de Candespina's unbounded zeal has led him to conceive. His
lordship will pardon me if I think him wholly in error. I am much mis-
taken if there be a single noble in Castile who is not ready to sacrifice him-
self for the charms of Donna Urraca." — "Not for my charms, since I
boast none, but for my rights, assuredly." — " Your highness speaks thus
from modesty," pursued the lady ; " but at any rate, your highness cannot
need the Senor de Najara's troops for your protection ; nevertheless I should
not hesitate to send for them."

The astonishment of the Queen and the Count, at this strange conclusion
of Donna Leonora's speech, cannot well be described. The first looked at
her angrily, the second with admiration ; but she, who had foreseen this,
without giving them time to recollect themselves, went on as follows : —

" If your highness will deign to listen to me another minute, my meaning
will appear. I repeat that the Senor de Najara's troops are unnecessary
for your security ; but does your highness think it beseems your high dig-
nity to enter Burgos in the same litter with your only female attendant,
without domestics, without more guards than eight or nine, assuredly valiant
soldiers, but whose arms are still blood-stained, whose garments are covered
with dust."

" In very truth, Leonora, you are in the right, and I will send to the Senor
de Najara to come and escort us to our Castillian capital. Write the letter,
Conde, and I will sign it ; but take care to express, that the motive of our
summons is suggested by Leonora, and not the slightest distrust of the
loyalty of our vassals."

The following is a more bustling portion of the romance. The Queen has,
by her own imprudence, again fallen into her husband's power ; and two of
her most stanch adherents, Don Hernando de Olea and Don Diego de
Najara, who have been seized with her, are confined in prison. Their escape
is thus related : —

" The gaolers had been charged to visit the prison frequently, in order to
prevent the captives from forcing the iron bars of their window, or organiz-
ing any other mode of escape. The last of these disagreeable visits, peri-
odically paid to our prisoners, took place after midnight. The gaolers then
entered, each with his lantern, each armed with a sword and dagger; they
first examined the chamber, then each cautiously approached the bed of one
of the captives, to ascertain that he really occupied it. This was the hour

MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE. 105

which the two cabelleros selected for the execution of their hazardous enter-
prise.

*********

" It was about one o'clock in the morning, when a hoarse sound of keys
and bolts announced the approach of the gaolers ; the heavy door creaked
upon its hinges, and the pale scanty light of the lanterns illumined the
chamber. The breathing of the two prisoners was equal and heavy, and
the most acute observer could not have guessed that they were awake, and
struggling between hope and fear.

" They sleep," said the Castilian to the Aragonese gaoler. — " Would it
were for ever !" returned he. — " Silence, lest they wake and hear." — " What
should they hear ? Don't you hear how Don Diego snores ?" — " Perhaps,"
rejoined the first, without interrupting his examination of the apartment ;
" perhaps your wishes may be quickly fulfilled." — " Oh ! Oh ! so that". . . .
— " 'Tis said they will be treated as they deserve" — meaning beheaded.
— "Precisely." — "Dogs !" Hernando was about to exclaim, but fortunately
restrained himself. — " The sooner the better/^ subjoined the gaoler. And now,
having completed their examination of the dungeon, they, according to custom,
placed their lanterns on the ground, and each approached the bed of a pri-
soner.* * * The two gaolers, satisfied that their prisoners were asleep, turned
their backs to the beds, to resume their lanterns and depart. But at this
instant both gentlemen sprang upon them, with unparalleled celerity, and
strongly grasping their throats, brought them to the ground before they could
speak a word, or recover from the alarm 'of so sudden and unexpected an
assault. " Utter an Oh ! and thou art dead, wretch," said Hernando to the
Aragonese gaoler, placing his knee upon his breast, and threatening him with
his own dagger, which, as well as his cutlass, he had just snatched from him j
whilst Don Diego held his opponent under equal subjection, telling him in a
calm voice, that he must not stir if he wished to live. " All resistance is use-
less, slaves," said Don Diego. " Ye are already disarmed, and under any cir-
cumstances we are more than a match for you."* * * * " Keep you that one
under control," he added; "and as for you, friend, get up and undress
yourself with all dispatch, if you would not try the temper of your own
dagger."

"The confounded and trembling gaoler obeyed, and when he had finished,
Don Diego again threw him upon the ground, where he tied his hands and
feet with the sheets of his bed, and stopped his mouth with a cloth, so that
he could not move nor call for help.

"When both gaolers were thus stripped and secured, Don Hernando and
Don Diego disguised themselves in their apparel, not forgetting their arms,
and still less the bunch of keys borne by one of them. Then, each taking
up a ready prepared and concealed bundle, they issued from their dungeon,
fervently recommending themselves to the protection of God, and closing
the doors with all the precautions usually employed to insure their own safe
custody by the gaolers, whose parts they were now to play.

"Neither Hernando nor Diego had seen anymore of the prison they in-
habited than their own apartment, except upon the day they were brought
thither. But the impression then made upon them was sufficient to enable
them, aided by the lights they bore, and walking very cautious, to reach the
guard- room, in which lay the soldiers wrapt in untroubled sleep. They

106 MODRRN SPANISH ROMANCE.

crossed it, unchallenged by the sentry, who, from their dress, believed them
to be the gaolers, and issued forth into the street."

The continuation, too long to extract, tells how they were enabled to quit
the town and reach the camp of Conde de Candespina. These samples
show the tenour and the style of this work by the Alferez Escosura. We
now pass to one of greater note.

The romance we mean is " Donna Isabel de Solis, Queen of Granada,"
Novela Historica, by Don Francisco Martinez de la Rosa. But before we
speak of the book, we would say a word or two of the author. There is,
perhaps, no more sad instance of the cruel effect of intestine strife upon
literature than the career of Martinez de la Rosa. Had his native land been
any other civilised country of Europe than Spain, this gifted writer would have
flourished in the full enjoyment of popularity, encouragement, and honour :
in Spain, his reward has been, first a captivity for years in an African dun-
geon, then exile, and eventually a necessity of exclusive devotion to politics
to obtain that rank and station which belonged of right to his genius and
birth. His earlier life has been one continued struggle to revive among his
countrymen a taste for learning and letters. He has appeared as an essayist,
a critic, an historian, a poet, a dramatist, in fine, as a writer in every style
and upon every subject. All his productions have much attraction, and
display ability of a superior order. In proof of his literary qualities, is the
fact of his being appreciated by a people capable of paying tribute to merit.
When driven from his country, Martinez de la Rosa wrote plays in France,
in the French language, which were successfully performed at Paris. On
his return to Spain, he became a distinguished partisan of that side mis-
named Liberal, in a country where liberality has no existence. Amid his
political greatness, however, he once more briefly resumed his pen, and in
1838 — a period when there seemed some chance of peace, he brought out
at Madrid the romance we are now going to describe.

The subject of " Donna Isabel de Solis" is taken from the later years of
the struggle between the Spaniards and the Moors for the territory of Gra-
nada. The heroine of the tale, Donna Isabel, is the daughter of Don Sancho
le Solis, governor of Martos, a fortress belonging to the knights of Calatrava,
nd situate on the very verge of the Moorish dominions. The strange and
omantic adventures of Isabel occupy the narrative. At the actual moment
.)f her marriage with a noble suitor, Pedro de Venegas, the wedding cere-
mony is surprised, and put an end to, by an irruption of the Moors. Isabel's
father and lover are slain, and she herself is carried into captivity. Here,
after a series of romantic incidents, she is induced, by her passion for the
Moorish king, Abu-1- Hassan, to forget her friends and country ; she be-
comes the unhappy bride of the Mussulman monarch, and ascends the throne
of Granada. The marriage eventually causes the fall of the Moorish power
in Spain. This romance, as a mere story, is not one of very great interest :
much of it is trivial and commonplace, and it frequently wants animation.
The historical portion, though fine of itself, is too prolix to be connected
with what is intended to be a stirring and adventurous tale. Still the work
exhibits much striking talent. Many of the descriptions are extremely
beautiful, especially'a lively and truly poetical picture which the author gives
of the city of Granada. The style and language of the romance through-
out are excellent ; the writing is pure without being antiquated, eloquent and
vigorous without affectation, and will afford no small gratification to those
who can appreciate the stately and sonorous dialect of Spain. As a spcci-

MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE. 107

men of the work, we give the following account of the fatal interruption to
the nuptials of Isabel de Solis at Martos : —

"The night fixed for the espousals at length arrived, and a silent calm
succeeded to the noise and bustle of the day, not unlike the tranquillity of
the ocean after a storm . The followers of the different guests, and the
menials of the castle, overcome with sleep and wine, lay dispersed about
the courts and corridors. A few only of the principal household servants,
and the ladies and knights who were to witness the ceremony, stood at the
door of the chapel in anxious expectation of the signal. A low murmur
announced at last the arrival of the bride and bridegroom with their friends,
and immediately afterwards a dozen pages, with a torch of wax in one hand,
and the cup in the other, were seen approaching the chapel with due solem-
nity and composure. They were followed by Isabel and Don Pedro, who,
deeply absorbed in their own thoughts, walked in silence, scarcely daring to
raise their eyes from the ground. Not so the Commendador, who, with
Don Alonso de Cordova and the Senor de Zuheros, walked with head erect
and cheerful countenance ; the cortege being closed by Isabel's handmaidens,
wrapt up in mantles, and by a few favoured esquires who had, by dint of
entreaty, obtained this signal distinction.

" The chapel of the castle was small and dark, and had'only one nave ; the
ceiling was of carved walnut,, the altar adorned with wooden images, placed
in gilt niches. But the antiquity of the retreat, and its rude ornaments,
raised the soul above worldly contemplation, and inspired sweet and melan-
choly reveries. The idea that there, under the marble flags with which the
chapel was paved, many of the ancestors of the Commendador slept in
peace, their ashes mingled with the earth redeemed by them from the
Moors, and their bodies lying under the altars which they had in life defended,
contributed not a little to impress the mind with religious feelings. In the
centre of the chapel, a foot above ground, rose a sepulchre, on which was
coarsely carved the figure of a young woman, with the hands crossed over
the breast, the feet joined, and the face looking up to heaven. It was that
of the mother of Isabel ; and the Commendador felt a degree of consola-
tion mixed with sorrow, in the thought that his sainted wife might witness
and bless their daughter's union from her tomb. The bride was already at
the foot of the altar, pale and tremulous ; the bridegroom by her side
breathless and agitated ; the minister of heaven was pronouncing the sacred
words, and on the point of receiving the fatal yes which was to unite them
until death, when suddenly an appalling shriek struck every one with horror.
The Commendador and his friends first thought it might be a scuifle among
the people of the castle ; but immediately after, the cry of " Fire !" and the
approach of a confused multitude, the clatter of arms, the precipitate step
of fugitives, .the groans of the wounded and dying, too plainly tcld the fatal
truth.

" Isabel fainted away in the arms of her husband ; her friends and retainers
fled panic- struck ; the Commendador rushed out like lightning to inquire
into the cause of the alarm, but was himself met at the door of the chapel
by the crowd of fugitives, who thronged to it for refuge. In vain did he
demand to be heard ; in vain he repeated question after question : no answer
could be obtained, his voice was drowned in cries and lamentations, as though
death were at hand. Alas ! it was but too near.

" The Moors on the frontiers, encouraged by a long peace, and secure of
making an easy prey of people plunged in heedless revelry, had, during the
night, scaled the walls of the castle, and, profiting by the negligence of the

108 MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE.

drunken soldiers, they inundated its hall and courts, and began the work of
destruction with fire and sword. Many were the Christians who, on that
fatal night, passed from the arms of sleep into those of death ; others fled
to the chapel in hopes of finding an asylum, invoking the name of God,
which died in terror on their lips. But alas ! at sight of that holy retreat,
the fury of the infidels increased instead of abating, and they rushed among
the Christians like so many wolves into a sheep-fold. The Commendador,
immoveable as a statue, sword in hand awaited their attack ; and though
pierced with a hundred wounds, stood for some time fixed as rock, and then
staggered and fell, trailing himself towards the tomb of his wife, where he
breathed his last. Before the altar, the youthful Venegas was seen sustain-
ing Isabel, and protecting her with his own body from the blows of the
assailants. Scarcely was the young cavalier sensible of what passed round
him ; he had neither arms for defence, nor hope of succour from human
power ; regardless of his own life, his heart was agonised for the fate of his
beloved ! " Surrender or die !" exclaimed the chief of the invading party,
rushing forward to separate them. Venegas at that instant received a wound
in the forehead, embraced once, more his bride, and fell bathed in blgod at
her feet. Such was the end of a day begun under such happy auspices !
Who will put faith hi earthly joy, which so quickly flies before us ?"

Before quitting a melancholy contemplation of the present state of litera-
ture in Spain we must not forget to mention another Spaniard who sought
among ourselves that encouragement which the land of his birth could not,
or would not, give. Don Telesforo de Trueba, a man of great intellectual
acquirement, industry, and perseverance, produced, some twelve or fourteen
years ago, in the English language, in this country, several romances which
attained celebrity, and which are doubtless in the memory, or knowledge, of
many of our readers. A play of his was also performed at Covent Garden
Theatre. De Trueba subsequently went back to Spain, and, like Martinez
de la Rosa, took a prominent part among the supporters of the Queen ; he
died amid the political confusion which ensued. In this country he was
much regarded and esteemed by a circle of friends, and the news of his
death was received with sorrow. The fate of such men is grievous indeed,
branding, as it does, their country's degradation on the very face of Spain.
In conclusion we can only fervently say, God send deliverance and regenera-
tion to the land of Calderon and Cervantes !

109

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.

No. XII. — THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF WILLTAM BARNARD, AND THE
DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.

THE writer of romance has ever been accused of sacrificing not only
the probable, but the possible, to the marvellous, — of concocting fable
that could have no foundation in fact, — describing scenes that could not
have occurred, and depicting character that could not have existed,
of building, in a word, on the slippery sands of fiction alone, regardless
alike of reason and reality. Is such, however, precisely his position ?
The most incomprehensible of his stories have been paralleled in every-
day life 3 and wonderful though his narrations, and wild and fanciful his
dreamings, the judicial historian bears ample testimony that he is
not altogether a visionary. The records of jurisprudence disclose
circumstances which have absolutely occurred, as strange as the
strangest to be found in the pages of romance — as difficult to be
accounted for, and as hard to be credited. Of these singular realities
one most remarkable is the following trial :—

The Duke of Marlborough here referred to, was Charles Spencer, fifth
Earl of Sunderland, grandson of the hero of Blenheim, and his successor
as second Duke of Marlborough, which title he inherited the 24th Octo-
ber, 1733, on the demise, unmarried, of his aunt, Henrietta, daughter of the
first Duke and herself Duchess of Marlborough in her own right. This
second Duke was himself a general of eminence, and fought with dis-
tinction at Dettingen : he died of a fever, the 28th October, 1758,
at Munsterin Westphalia: he was the great grandfather of the present
Duke of Marlborough.

The trial took place at the Old Bailey on the 10th and llth May,
1758: the able Sir Michael Foster, was among the judges present.
The narrative given on the side of the prosecution was this : —

After Mr. Moore had opened the indictment, Mr. Serjeant Davy
spoke as follows :

" May it please your lordships, and you gentlemen of the jury j

I am counsel in this cause for the prosecution against the prisoner at
the bar, who stands indicted on an act of Parliament made in the ninth
year of his late majesty, very well known by the name of the Black
Act. That act of parliament, reciting the several mischiefs, and consti-
tuting several felonies, amongst other things, enacts, That if any person
shall knowingly send any letter, without any name subscribed thereto,
or signed with a fictitious name, demanding money, venison, or other
valuable things ; every person so offending, being thereof lawfully con-
victed, shall be adjudged guilty of felony, and shall suffer death as
in cases of felony, without benefit of clergy.

It is on that act that this indictment now comes before you, that you
have heard read. You see it is for sending a letter j for it is on the first

110 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

of these letters that the present indictment is founded j the others are
sent in consequence of the first, and explanatory of his intentions.

I will open to you, as concisely as I can, the several circumstances we
have in evidence, in order to affect the prisoner at the bar : they are
circumstances of that nature, corresponding so exactly with the pri-
soner's case, affecting him so very minutely, that the several circum-
stances do infer, I had almost said an impossibility of his innocence :
you will find they all tally so exactly, they are so particularly relative to
him, that it will be offering violence to every rule of reason, not to find
him guilty.

Gentlemen, on the 29th of November, a letter was found under
the door of the Ordnance-office, directed to his Grace the Duke of
Marlborough : upon opening this letter, which was wrote in imitation
of print-hand, bearing date that day the 29th of November, it will
be necessary, for the sake of the following circumstances, to desire your
attention to the several parts. These are the words :

" To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough.

xxviiii November.

" My lord ; as ceremony is an idle thing upon most occasions, more
especially to persons in my state of mind, I shall proceed immediately
to acquaint you with the motive and end of addressing this epistle
to you, which is equally interesting to us both. You are to know then,
that my present situation in life is such, that I should prefer annihilation
to a continuance in it : desperate diseases require desperate remedies j
and you are the man I have pitched upon, either to make me, or
to unmake yourself. As I never had the honour to live among the
great, the tenor of my proposals will not be very courtly ; but let that
be an argument to enforce the belief of what I am now going to write.
It has employed my invention, for some time, to find out a method
to destroy another, without exposing my own life j that I have accom-
plished, and defy the law. Now for the application of it. I am despe-
rate, and must be provided for : you have it in your power, it is my
business to make it your inclination, to serve me ; which you must deter-
mine to comply with, by procuring me a genteel support for my life ; or
your own will be at a period before this session of parliament is over.
I have more motives than one for singling you out first, upon this occa-
sion ; and I give you this fair warning, because the means I shall make
use of are too fatal to be eluded by the power of physic. If you think
this of any consequence, you will not fail to meet the author on Sunday
next, at ten in the morning, or on Monday, (if the weather should
be rainy on Sunday) near the first tree beyond the stile in Hyde Park, in
the foot-walk to Kensington : secrecy and compliance may preserve you
from a double danger of this sort : as there is a certain part of the
world, where your death has more than been wished for, upon other
motives. I know the world too well, to trust this secret in any breast
but my own. A few days determine me your friend or enemy.

"FELTON."

" You will apprehend that I mean you should be alone ; and depend
upon it, that a discovery of any artifice in this affair will be fatal to you :
my safety is insured by my silence ; for confession only can con-
demn me."

This letter containing every thing that is dreadful, that might raise
apprehensions of terror, subscribed by a name which is painful to almost

THE ARISTOCRACY. Ill

every ear — the name Felton ! That was the name of the assassin that
stabbed the Duke of Buckingham at Portsmouth.

My lord duke, not intimidated by the letter, though greatly surprised
at it, and willing to find out the author, was not afraid to endeavour to
apprehend him ; he went alone to the spot, and at the time appointed j
however, there was some attendant on his Grace at a distance, in order
to observe what passed on the occasion. My lord duke had been there
some time on horseback, and as much undressed as a man of his quality
is. He had pistols before him j he had been there some time, and saw
nobody at all at that particular place. After waiting some considerable
time, he was returning, and observed a person come to the particular
spot just by the tree beyond the stile in Hyde Park, by the foot- walk to
Kensington : that person held a handkerchief to his mouth in a seeming
disconsolate manner, looking into the water, and stood still a very con-
siderable while. Upon his Grace seeing this, that the man was not
pursuing any way, the Duke had no doubt in his own mind, but that
this man (be he who he would) must be the person who had sent him
this letter. The man sauntering just at the place, the Duke rode up to
the spot, expecting the person would speak to him : his Grace asked the
man, Whether he wanted to speak to him ? He said, "No." — " Sir," said
the Duke, "do you know me ? I am the Duke of Marlborough j telling
you that, perhaps you have something to say to me." "No, my lord."
No notice being taken, the Duke came away.

Gentlemen, you see, that this was an appointment on a Sunday
to meet at a place where several people might be supposed to be
walking. What was the view of that person may be seen by-and-bye.
The author of this letter speaks of his being exceedingly guarded
against the possibility of a detection ; he boasts of the care and caution
he had used for that purpose, — he defies the law, — nothing but confession
could condemn him, — his safety was insured by his silence, — he knew
the world too well, to trust this secret in any breast but his own.

A few days after, in the same week, the Duke received a second letter.
This also was put under the door of the Office of Ordnance, and was
also wrote in imitation of a print-hand : but the directions of both the
letters are not ; there will be occasion to take notice of that circumstance
by-and-bye. The second letter is in these words :

" To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough.

"My lord ; You receive this as an acknowledgment of your punctu-
ality as to the time and place of meeting on Sunday last, though it was
owing to you that it answered no purpose. The pageantry of being
armed, and the ensign of your order, were useless, and too conspicuous :
you needed no attendant ; the place was not calculated for mischief, nor
was any intended. If you walk in the west aisle of Westminster Abbey,
towards eleven o'clock on Sunday next, your sagacity will point out the
person, whom you will address by asking his company to take a turn or
two with you. You will not fail, on enquiry, to be acquainted with the
name and place of abode ; according to which directions you will please
to send two or three hundred pound bank notes the next day by the
penny post. Exert not your curiosity too early : it is in your power to
make me grateful on certain terms. I have friends who are faithful j
but they do not bark before they bite. I am, &c. &c. F."

Gentlemen, you see, the writer of the second letter speaks of being
himself in the Park, or at least of knowing that the Duke was there, at

VOL. iv. NO. xvi. K

112 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

the time and place appointed : and therefore this was a farther circum-
stance to convince the Duke, that the person, whom he had seen the
Sunday before in Hyde Park, and spoke to, was the writer of the
second letter. You see it speaks of the Duke's punctuality as to the
time and place of meeting, the particular dress his grace was in, and
assigns that as the reason of not speaking to him the Sunday before : so
you see, gentlemen, that circumstance, which was a little unaccountable
of itself/of the Duke's not being owned by the person whom he had
seen on the Sunday before, is by the second letter accounted for; —
"The pageantry of being armed, and the ensign of his order." He had
then only a star on, and that perhaps an old one, so as not to be conspi-
cuous : so that this accounts for the person's not speaking to the Duke
in Hyde Park. There can be no doubt at all, but that the writer of the
second was the writer of the first letter.

The consequence then of this second appointment to meet the writer
of the letters in the west aisle of Westminster Abbey, you wijj observe
public places were appointed, and at public times ; the first in Hyde
Park, the second in prayer-time at Westminster Abbey, where the Duke
was <e by his sagacity to point out the person" — the writer of this letter.
The Duke accordingly went to Westminster Abbey, to the west aisle
(though indeed, properly speaking, we don't know which to call the
west aisle, the church standing east and west). His grace went to the
western-most part of the Abbey, and observed nobody lurking or
standing in circumstances suspicious : after a little time, his grace
was surprized to see that the same person, whom he had seen the
Sunday before exactly at the spot in Hyde Park, appeared just in this
place at the west end of Westminster Abbey ; but he was surprised the
more, that this person did not speak to him. Perhaps his grace had not
then considered the tenor of this letter ; for it was not to be expected,
that the writer would address the Duke, but rather refers to the Duke's
sagacity : — " Your sagacity will point out the person j" it then directs,
" whom you will address by asking his company to take a turn or two
with you." His grace perhaps did not consider this exactly ; but
waiting some time for the person to speak to him, and finding he did
not, his grace asked him, " Sir, have you any thing to say to me ?" — " No,
my lord." t{ Have you nothing at all to say to me ?" — " No." " Have you
nothing at all to say to me ?" No, he had nothing to say to him. Now
I should have mentioned to you, when this person came into the Abbey,
another person came in with him, who seemed by his appearance
to be a substantial tradesman, a good sort of man. These two persons,
after stopping and looking about at the monuments near the west gate
of the Abbey, the Duke being sure one of them was the same man he
had seen before in Hyde Park, his grace thought proper to go and stand
by them, to see if that person would speak to him. Seeing the duke
took no notice of him, they both went towards the choir : the stranger
went into the choir, and the man that his grace had seen in the Park,
came back again (leaving his friend there) to the spot where the duke
was. The duke then asked him, whether he had any thing to say to
him ? No, he had nothing at all to say to him. No, he had nothing at
all to say. Then the duke walked a little on the other side of the
aisle, to see whether the man would follow him, or had a mind to speak
to him at another spot. He observed the man looked eagerly at him j
may-be it may be understood, he expected the duke's "sagacity would

THE ARISTOCRACY. 113

point out the man." However, the duke did not do what the letter
required, that is, ask him to take a turn with him.

At this second time there was somebody that was with the duke
(when I say with him, I don't mean close to him, but) near enough, so
as to take notice what passed, in order to apprehend the person, so as to
put it beyond all doubt that he was the author of those letters. The
duke, and this attendant of his, went out at the west door of the Abbey,
in order to go to his coach. Now you will find by-and-bye, in the next
letter, that the writer of these letters took notice of this attendant, but
was under no apprehension of being watched by any body else ; and
that will account for those circumstances I am going to mention:
as soon as the duke went out of the Abbey, that man, whom the duke
had seen at both these places, watched the duke out of the Abbey, and
as soon as his grace had passed the door of the Abbey, he went up, hid
himself in a corner, concealed from a possibility of being seen by
his grace in case he had looked back, and so watched him into his coach.
It maybe asked, why his grace, upon having such clear conviction in
his mind, that that person must be the writer of both the letters, did not
apprehend him ? his grace will tell you, he did not think himself justified
in so doing j he could not reconcile it to his own mind to take up
a man, where there was a possibility of his innocence.

Gentlemen, a few days after this, came a third letter to the duke,
wrapped up in a very small compass, and directed to his Grace the Duke
of Maryborough at his house. You will see, by comparing the direc-
tion, that this third letter was wrote by the writer of the first letter : It
begins, " My lord, I am fully convinced you had a companion on
Sunday." So far it is proved, that the writer of these letters was in the
Park on the first Sunday, and saw the duke there ; and was in the Abbey
on the second Sunday, and saw the duke there ; and that it was the
same man that the duke saw at both these times. — " I interpret it
as owing to the weakness of human nature : but such proceedings
is far from beiag ingenious, and may produce bad effects, whilst it is
impossible to answer the end proposed." — Guarded through all. " You
will see me again soon, as it were by accident, and may easily find
where I go to ; in consequence of which, by being sent to, 1 shall wait
on your grace, but expect to be quite alone, and converse in whispers.
You will likewise give your honour, upon meeting, that no part of the
conversation shall transpire." — So that you see, as he was guarded
before, he was determined to make it impossible to be discovered :
if they were to converse in whispers, and to be quite alone, it was
impossible for other evidence to rise up against him — " These and
the former terms complied with, insure your safety ; my revenge, in
case of non-compliance, (or any scheme to expose me) will be slower,
but not less sure, and strong suspicion the utmost that can possibly
ensue upon it." — You see, how artful he had contrived it : he was
determined that nothing more than strong suspicion should ever be
in evidence against him — "While the chances will be tenfold against
you. You will possibly be in doubt after the meeting, but it is quite
necessary the outside should be a mask of the in. The family of
the BLOODS is not extinct, though they are not in my scheme." — The
word BLOODS is in capital letters. That is a dreadful name ? As Felton
was the villain who assassinated the Duke of Buckingham, so this is the
name of the fellow who seized the Duke of Ormond, and was going

i 2

114 CURIOUS TRIALS COXNKCTED WITH

to carry him to Tyburn to execute him, and also who stole the crown
out of the Tower of London.

You see, gentlemen, by this third letter, that the duke was to expect
to hear something farther from the writer of these letters. It contains
no appointment, but leads the duke to expect he shall see the writer
again as by accident, and was to observe where he should go to, that the
duke might know where to send for him ; and that he would come in
consequence of being sent for ; but when he came to the duke the
terms were, to be a secret conversation, not in the presence of a
third person, and that too by whispers, and the duke promising, upon his
honour, that no part of it should transpire, without which he was
not led to think the writer should disclose anything at all. The first
letter was dated and received the 29th November, the second received
the next week, the third in the second week of December, and the last
was some time in April.

The duke waited, expecting to hear farther ; but heard nothing more
until the middle of April. About the 14th there came a letter to
his grace, wrote in a mean hand, but not in imitation of a print hand, as
the others were. These are the words of the fourth letter:
" To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough.

" May it please your grace j I have reason to believe, that the son of
one Barnard, a surveyor in Abingdon-buildings, Westminster, is ac-
quainted with some secrets that nearly concern your safety: his father
is now out of town, which will give you an opportunity of questioning
more privately. It would be useless to your grace, as well as dan-
gerous to me, to appear more publicly in this affair. — Your sincere
friend, ANONYMOUS."

"He frequently goes to Storey's-gate coffee-house."

Gentlemen, the duke sent for Mr. Barnard, the son of Mr. Barnard,
according to the directions in that letter. This letter, you will see, bears
no date at all j no memorandum, or any thing which could possibly
indicate when the letter was sent, or when the duke received it. The
duke, when Mr. Barnard came, was sitting in his room ; and though
upon opening the door of the outer room (which was at three score
yards distance from where the duke was,) yet the moment Mr. Barnard
entered the room, he was sure that was the man he had seen both
in the Park and in the Abbey. Though the duke had no doubt in his
own mind on the former circumstances, that the person whom he
had seen before was the writer of the first letter, now he was fully con-
vinced that he was the writer of all the letters. The duke was deter-
mined the scheme should not so far take effect, as to engage himself
upon his honour, that no part of the conversation should transpire ; if
so, nothing could have prevailed upon him to prosecute : therefore you
are not to expect he complied with a conversation in whispers, and
a promise on the duke's part, that no part of the conversation should
transpire. The third letter will tell you, that the person that entered the
room was the writer of all these letters. As soon as he came into the
room, the duke took him to the window, and asked him, whether
he wanted to speak with him? "No, my lord." — "No, Sir! I have
received a letter, which tells me, that you are acquainted with some cir-
cumstances that nearly concern my safety." — "Not I, my lord." " This is
very surprising, Sir! this is the letter;" and showed him the last letter.
Still the duke had not given him any promise at all of not exposing the

THE ARISTOCRACY. 115

conversation. " Sir, it is very odd that you should be pointed out to
me, to acquaint me with some circumstances relating to my safety,
because it mentions some circumstances as to the time, the place
where you are to be found, your father's being out of town, and the
like." The prisoner incautiously said immediately, " My lord, my father
was out of town at that time." — " At what time, Sir ? The letter bears
no date, nor have I mentioned to you a syllable when I received it : how
came you to know when I received this letter, that you should tell me,
your father was not in town at that time ? You speak clearly, as
knowing when I received this letter ; therefore give me leave on this
occasion to tell you, that I do not only suspect you know of this letter,
but that you have sent to me some other letters that I have received
before :" then acquainting him with the other three letters, his grace
observing upon them, that it was very odd and strange, that the letters
corresponded so exactly and decisively on him, he being always at
the places at the time appointed, and that he being the person named in
the fourth letter too, and that he knew the time of the duke's receiving
that letter, the duke put it upon him, " Sir/V'am surprised at the writer
of this letter ; one should suppose from the style, and its being gram-
matically wrote, that the person who wrote it, had had some share
of education j at least I am surprised that a man that has had any
education at all, can descend to such a means of getting money."
"My lord, your grace need not be surprised at thatj a man may
be learned and very poor." Very fond was he of softening things.
" My lord, you need not be affrighted : I dare say the writer of these
letters is a very mad man.*' " Why ! you are very much concerned
to apologize for the writer hereof," said the duke. Picking out this
circumstance, the man does not know me, he expresses his very great
surprise at my appearing in the Park with the ensign of my order, and
my being armed — as incautious as he had been before, he is incautious
upon that too, and said, " Indeed I was surprised to see your grace
armed." "Was you so ?" said the duke. "Was you surprised to
see me armed ? Can any man doubt a moment who wrote these letters ?
But, however, Mr. Barnard, as you insist upon it, and declare so
solemnly your innocence, I will not so far invade the laws of hospitality,
whatever crime you have done." (He would not for the world appre-
hend a man in his own house whom he had sent for ; he let him go safe
home again ; it was for that reason he would not give his promise not
to reveal the conversation j but in regard to the public he was deter-
mined to prosecute.) The duke said to him, " Sir, if you are not
the writer of these papers, it much becomes you to find out who is j
for your name is particularly mentioned in this last letter ; either you
are the writer, or allow me to say, somebody else owes you very ill-will
that was the writer of them." I am relying merely on the terms of the
last letter, wherein he was to inform his grace of things that nearly
concerned his safety, so much to the hazard of his own life ? What
became him, as having a regard to his own reputation and safety ? To
determine, as far as in his power, to find out the writer ; nay to have
given the duke assurance that he would do it : instead of that, what was
his behaviour ? A smile of contempt — an unmannerly laugh in the
duke's face, as if it did not concern him at all.

Gentlemen, I should think that to this there can hardly be a circum-
stance added more clearly to convince any man alive of the circum-

116 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

stances of this man's being the author of these letters ; but you will
iind afterwards the prisoner (for what reason let him tell if he can)
told his grace, he had desired his companion that was with him in
Westminster Abbey to leave him : Why ? " Because he thought the
duke wanted to tell him of some place he had for him." Good God !
how could he imagine he wanted to tell him of a place ? A person
whom he had never seen before he saw him in the Park, how could he
expect that ? This was his awkward reason for desiring his companion
to leave him.

I beg pardon, if I have omitted any thing ; these are the circum-
stances that have occurred to me on this occasion ; they are so strong
and necessary in the proof of the prisoner's guilt, that I will venture
to say, it is much more satisfactory to an indifferent person, than posi-
tive testimony — the positive testimony of any man, as men are liable to
mistakes, as mistake in time, a mistake in persons, will exceedingly vary
the case j but variety of circumstances, which tally in their own
nature, cannot lie or deceive.

This prosecution is commenced merely for the sake of justice ; I am
instructed to say from his grace, it is perfectly indifferent to him
what will be the issue of the trial : he thought it his duty to come here,
and leave it to his country to determine as they shall think proper."

The evidence, which bore out this address, and which was unshaken
by cross-examination, need not be given here ; but the extraordinary part
of the story is in the prisoner's complete answer to the accusation. In
his defence the prisoner merely said, "I am entirely innocent of this
affair with which I am charged. I leave it to the Court and the
jury, with the evidence that will be produced." He then brought the fol-
lowing testimony.

John Barnard was sworn,

J. Barnard. I am father to the prisoner at the bar.

What is his employ ? — He is employed in my business as a builder
and surveyor principally ; in not only that, and drawing plans, but also
in receiving great sums of money.

Have his accounts always stood right and clear? — They always have.

Do you look upon him to be a sober man ? — I have had great reason
to believe him such, more particularly lately.

Has he been possessed of large sums of money ? — He has, of consi-
derable sums 5 I have oftener asked him for money than he me.

Had you any occasion to send him to Kensington on Sunday the 4th
of December? — I had nothing, but circumstances brought the day to
my mind since : I gave him an order on that Sunday morning, when we
were at breakfast, to go to Kensington, to know whether there was some
money paid by the treasurer of the turnpikes for gravel : I have a bro-
ther there, named Joseph} he went there and did his business, and dined
with my brother.

How do you know that? — Because he told me so ; and the solicitor
of the turnpike told me he had been with him, and in consequence of
which I had my money afterwards.

Have you ever heard your son take any notice of his meeting with the
Duke of Marlborough that day ? — When he came home, he told me,
he had met the Duke of Marlborough, and these circumstances of his
grace's taking notice of him j he mentioned it as an extraordinary thing.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 117

I asked him, if he had not looked a little impudently (as he has a near
sight) at him, or pulled his glass out ? — He said, he saw another gentle-
man at a distance, and the duke was armed ; and he imagined there
might be a duel going forward ; he has from that time to this mentioned
it as a very strange event several times in my house, without any reserve
at all.

Cross examination.

At the time you sent your son to Kensington on the 4ih of December,
suppose you had not given him an order to go there, whether he was
not at liberty to go where he pleased? — Yes j I never restrain him.

Did he say he was surprised to see the duke without a great coat ? —
I cannot remember that particular.

Did you hear him mention his seeing the Duke of Marlborough in
Westminster-Abbey ? — I have very often, and very publicly, and with
some surprise j as he has that in Hyde-Park. I said to him, I would
not have you be public in speaking of things in this kind, lest a use be
made of it to your disadvantage.

Thomas Barnard sworn.

T. Barnard. I am first cousin to the prisoner at the bar. On Satur-
day the 3rd of December I was at Kensington, and lay at my uncle's
house there and dined there. On the Sunday the prisoner came there
before dinner, he said he had been to do some business that way. He
dined with us 5 there were my uncle, aunt, he and I ; he related that
circumstance to us of meeting with the Duke of Marlborough in Hyde-
Park j he said he rode up to him, and asked if he knew who he was ;
he answered, No j he replied, I am the Duke of Marlborough. He re-
lated it with some cheerfulness, though as a matter of surprise.

How long have you known the prisoner ? — From his birth : he is in
business with his father ; I always understood he would succeed his fa-
ther j I never knew him to behave any otherwise than well in my life.
I never thought him extravagant, nor never heard so; I had always
looked upon him to be an honest man ; his father is in very great
business.

Should you look upon it, that a small place would be equal to the
chance of succeeding his father in his business ? — I should never have
thought of such a thing j I looked upon his situation in life to be a very
extraordinary thing : I thought he would give the preference to that
above any thing else.

Cross-examination.

Do you think he would refuse a good place ? — No man would refuse
a place that is to his advantage.

Joseph Barnard sworn.

J. Barnard. I am uncle to the prisoner at the bar ; I live at Ken-
sington ; my nephew, Thomas Barnard, lay at my house on the Satur-
day night, and dined with the prisoner at the bar on the Sunday. I re-
member he then mentioned having met with the Duke of Marlborough
in Hyde-Park, while we were sitting at dinner. I said I was surprised
he should meet with him that day; he said he saw but one gentleman
at a distance, and the duke was armed ; and his grace looked him full
in the face, very earnestly (which he seemed to speak with a great deal
of pleasure to me) ; he is very near-sighted, he can see nothing at a dis-
tance without the use of a glass. I have heard him since speak four or
five times of seeing the duke in Westminster-Abbey.

113 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

How long ago ? — About a month ago. He is brought up under his
father in very considerable business, and a man of some property besides,
and was employed as his clerk or book-keeper.

Is he a sober man ? — Very sober ; I never heard to the contrary ;
neither did I ever hear his father speak of him as idle or dilatory.

Thomas Calcut sworn.

T. Calcut. I live at Kensington : I remember the prisoner coming
there on a Sunday morning ; a very cold, foggy morning : with some
message from his father to me, to know whether the solicitor had paid
some money or not. He was under his father, as I am under mine ; he
desired me to go with him ; I said, stay and dine with me : he said, he
could not promise, because he had promised to dine with his uncle
Joseph ; he went into the parlour, and said, it is vastly cold : there has
been the oddest accident happened as J came over the Park ! the Duke
of Marlborough came up to me, and asked me, if I knew him ? I said,
No. He asked me, if I wanted any thing with him ? — I told him, No.
He said, I am the Duke of Marlborough, if you want any thing with me j
then the duke went away, and he came there. He expressed a great
surprise at it, and I thought it a very odd affair.
Henry Clive, Esq. sworn.

H. Clive. I have known the prisoner two years ; I remember dining
with him on the 8th December, at his father's house, with a great deal
of company j I heard him then say at dinner, that some few days before,
he had met the Duke of Marlborough in Hyde-Park ; that the duke
asked him, if he had any business with him ? He said, No ; he then
told him who he was, and asked him the same again j he said, No.
That the duke seemed in some confusion, and was armed ; and he
thought he was about a duel ; and indeed I thought it was a very great
lie. I have gone very frequently to his father's in relation to Brentford
Bridge. I have no other acquaintance with him, only going to his fa-
ther's, so cannot say any thing to his character, either frugal or extra-
vagant.

Can you name any body that dined there that day? — Yes, there was
Mr. Wilson and his lady, Mr. Tunstall and his lady, another gentleman
and his wife, and the prisoner's younger brother that is at Westminster
school.

Mrs. Mary Wilson, sworn.

Mrs. Wilson. I dined at Mr. Barnard's on Tuesday the 8th December j
the prisoner I remember said he had been in Hyde-Park some days be-
fore, and there he saw a gentleman on horseback come up to him, and
ask him, if he had anything to say to him? He said, No; then he
said, I am the Duke of Marlborough, now you know me, have you any
thing to say to me ? He said, No. He talked of this very freely to us all.

James Greenwood sworn.

Greenwood. I live at Deptford, with a relation in the brewing-way ;
I came from Deptford on Saturday to the prisoner's father's ; and on
the Sunday following I was there at breakfast ; I solicited the prisoner
to get himself dressed to go with me into the Park, being to meet a per-
son at twelve o'clock ; I with a good deal of difficulty got him to dress
himself j I put my shirt on in the parlour, and after that he put on his ;
I fancy we breakfasted about nine o'clock ; when we got to the end of
Henry VIFs chapel, the prisoner would have gone the other way into
the Park without going through the Abbey j I took hold of his sleeve,

THE ARISTOCRACY. 119

and said, Barnard, you shall go through the Abbey ; this was a little
after a eleven ; this was no unusual thing j we have several times walked
in the Park, and sometimes parted.

Which is the nearest way to the Park } — I do not know which is the
nearest way, through the Abbey, or by the side of it ; this was the first
time I believe that I ever, saw the monument of General Hargrave.
After that we walked to the monument erected at the public expence
for Captain Cornwall ; the preacher was in the pulpit ; when we were
standing at Captain Cornwall's monument, the prisoner made some
observation on the execution of it in his own way. After we had
stayed there some time, I saw his grace the Duke of Marlborough, who
was got pretty near us j upon seeing the duke, I jogged him by the
elbow, and said, step this way ; he seemed to look at him.

Had you heard what happened in Hyde-Park, previous to this r — I
had j I believe it was told me by the prisoner at the bar ; on my jogging
him we walked up the middle aisle towards the choir. I said, Did you
see that gentleman in the blue coat, or do you know him ? No, said
he, not I, No, said I, it is the Duke of Marlborough ; we will walk to
the monument again. The duke came, and placed himself pretty near
me a second time j after this we walked away. I believe we walked
some considerable time in that aisle in which is the monument of Sir
Godfrey Kneller, there I believe we passed and repassed again.

Why did you jog him ? — Because he is very near-sighted. At last, I
think it so happened, we passed the duke between two of the pillars j
and as I had hold of his arm walking together, there was barely room
for three people to pass a-breast j the duke rather gave way, and made,
as I thought, a kind of a bow. Upon this I said, the Duke of Marlbo-
rough's behaviour is extremely particular j he certainly has something to
say to you ; 1 suppose he does not choose to say it while I am with you,
I will go into the choir, and do you walk up and down here, and he will
possibly speak to you. While I was there, I looked j the first thing I
saw was the Duke of Marlborough and the prisoner at the bar, with
their heads bowing together, as if it was the first salutation.

Had the prisoner the least inclination to go into the Abbey before you
proposed it to him ? — No ; he did not discover any.

Did he discover any inclination to be left alone, when you pro-
posed to go into the choir ? — No, he did not in the least ; in some few
minutes after, the prisoner and I met together, he told me the Duke of
Marlborough was gone out of the Abbey, he had seen him go out. I
said, what passed ? To which he replied, the duke said, did you speak
to me? or who spoke first I cannot tell.

In this transaction did the prisoner appear openly, or if he had some
secret transaction to do with the duke ? — No, it was open and clear.

Did you see the duke come in ? — No, I did not ; we were employed
in looking at the monuments ; we looked at several.

What did you do when you first came in ? — We walked along, and
looked on the monuments.

Did you see the prisoner's eye fixed on any person ? — No, I did not.

Is Mr. Barnard very near sighted ? — He is ; J question whether he
can be able to see a person across this room.

Where did you go, when you went out of the Abbey ? — We went im-
mediately into the Park j and after walking there, we met with two
ladies whom I knew, and to whom Mr. Barnard was not unknown, to

120 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

whom we related this affair j he always repeated these things, that is,
this and that in Hyde-Park, as matter of great curiosity.

How long have you been acquainted with him r — I have been ac-
quainted with him seven years.

What is his character? — I know nothing to the contrary but that he
is an industrious, sober young man.

Did you ever hear that he was a profligate, expensive man ? — No, never.

His father is in great business, is he not ? — His father's business is a
very considerable thing.

William Ball, sworn.

Ball. I am the master of Storey's-gate coffee-house ; I remember
Mr. Merrick coming to my house, to enquire for Mr. Barnard ; he asked
me, if Mr. Barnard was at my house? I said, leave any message, I will
deliver it to him j he said, he wanted to see him that evening ; he left his
message, I delivered it to him, and he came rather before eight o'clock to
him. He has used my house some years, always a well-behaved man ; I never
perceived any extravagancy in him, always a sober, regular man. I have
heard him speak of having met the Duke of Maryborough, but not till
after this : he said he had been to his grace, at his grace's house j this
was as he called at my house, after he had been there.

Did he mention what had passed ? — No, he did not ; only that he had
seen his grace.

Cross-examination.

Did he not tell you any thing that passed ? — He did not tell me a
syllable of it.

What did you say to him } — I told him, may-be he was going to have
a commission ; he said, he would not thank his grace, except it was a
very good one.

How did he appear as to cheerfulness, or dullness, or the like ? — He
seemed to be very cheerful, not in the least concerned j the same as
usual, composed, rather more cheerful.

Counsel. We will now shew his behaviour after he was apprehended.

Mr. Ford. While he was in custody, Mr. Fielding did me the honour
of sending for me ; he told me it was upon some business which con-
cerned the Duke of Marlborough's life ; he asked me to go along with
him and Mr. Box to New Prison, which I consented to ; we went toge-
ther in a coach j this was about twelve at night, and Mr. Barnard was
then in bed j I have really forgot what day it was : Mr. Fielding told
him, he had omitted examining his pockets at the time he was before
him -, he then searched his pockets, in order to see whether he had any
letters, or any writings that might give light into the affairs ; he very
readily let me look into his pocket-book and papers. Mr. Fielding with
great candour told him, he was in the hands of a very honourable pro-
secutor, and one that would be as glad to discover his innocence as his
guilt. Mr. Fielding asked him for his keys, and he gave him the keys
of his scrutoire and compting-house with great readiness ; and I remem-
ber that I then told him, that, if he was guilty, some copies might be
found to correspond with the original letters ; and if nothing of that
sort did appear, it would be a circumstance in his favour.

Did you or Mr. Fielding tell him he was not obliged to part with his
keys, and did he do it as a matter of choice ? — I do not recollect that ;
I know he parted with them very readily.

The Rev. Dr. Markham sworn.

Dr. Markham. I have known the prisoner some years; I have always

THE ARISTOCRACY. 121

considered him as a young man of remarkable sobriety, and attention to
business : I have had some experience of him ; I entrusted him with the
execution of some matters of importance relating to myself, in regard to
surveying and valuing estates, in which he acquitted himself ably and
honestly j that is the character he always had : he lives in my neighbour-
hood, his father is a man of considerable property, and carries on a large
business.

Then you don't suppose the prisoner to be in distressed circumstances?
— I never supposed it, I have no reason to imagine it; if he had come
to me, wanting money, he might easily have imposed on me, he might
have had any thing of me ; he is one of the chief persons I trusted, and
I don't know a man on whom I would have had a greater reliance ; I
thought him remarkably able in his business, and very likely to be a
considerable man ; and I never was more astonished in my life than
when I heard this strange story.

Samual Cox, Esq. sworn.

S. Cox. I have known Mr. Barnard about the space of three years
last past. The beginning of my acquaintance was on the account of
his surveying of houses in the New-Square, Dean's-Yard j the surveys
were generally made by him j he did his business with such accuracy,
that I have always thought him a man very attentive to his business, and
very unlikely of being charged with this fact ; and upon his being em-
ployed upon public schemes, I employed him in my own affairs. I em-
ployed his father to finish some houses for me at Hamersmith, the son
was constantly employed till the 6th of April last ; I have at different
times paid to Mr. Barnard about £700 all paid into the hands of the
prisoner, except £50 or £70 of it. He has appeared as the person that
managed his father's business : if he had come to me, and mentioned
any want of money, upon his father's being out of town, or that like, he
might have had £200 or £30Q at any time. When I first was acquainted
with him, I observed he had a remarkable short sight j when he has looked
full at me, I have thought he sneered at me ; he has such a fall with his
eye-lids on the account of his short-sightedness ; I have found his eyes
so fixed upon me, that I have been going to speak to him, which by my
long acquaintance with him I since found was only an accident.
Robert Vansittart, Esq. sworn.

R. Vansittart. I have known Mr. Barnard about five or six years j
my acquaintance with him was by being acquainted with his father, who
was employed in carrying on a large building for Mr. Lee, an acquaint-
ance of mine in Oxfordshire j and these five years I have been ac-
quainted with the son, and frequently in company with him. In the be-
ginning of April he was in my chamber, putting up some book-cases ;
I remember one morning 'at breakfast he told me the circumstance of
meeting the Duke of Marlborough in Hyde-Park and in Westminster
Abbey, in the same way as the Court has been told from his grace and
the rest of the witnesses : it appeared to me to be a very strange story,
and he seemed to tell it as such, as I or any body else would have told it.
I suspended my judgment upon it, and never related it to any body, only
to my father and another gentleman, and they looked upon it as a great
lie that Barnard had invented j I, knowing his character, did not take it
as such, but thought he must have known it to be as he said.

What is your opinion of him as to his business ? — From my own per-
sonal acquaintance with him, and from the many surveys I have seen of

122 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

his, be certainly is very capable and master of his business. I never
heard any thing ill as to his private character.

Did you ever see him write ? — No ; he draws very well; I have seen
him draw.

John Smith, Esq. sworn.

J. Smith. I have known him eight or ten years, and his father's
family twenty-five. He always appeared an industrious, sober, diligent
man, particularly within these four or five years, since he has come into
business wilh his father. I considered him as a very promising genius
in his way, and one capable of conducting his business with reputation
and character.

Did you look upon him likely to be driven to distress, or in want of a
place ? — No, I did not. I can with great truth say, most of the pay-
ments in my compting-house, on his father's account, have most of
them been paid by the hands of this young man ; except the last £500 ;
then Mr. Barnard and his wife came over and dined with me, and paid
it j and then I blamed him for not bringing his son.

What are you ? I am a timber merchant.

Joshua Smith, Esq., sworn.

Josh. Smith, I am in partnership with my father, the last evidence.
I have known the prisoner several years ; I always thought him a very
honest, sober man, capable in his profession : the money that has been
paid to us lately, except that £500, has been by him ; they never paid
less than £100 at a time, except once.

Have you any reason to imagine him in desperate circumstances? —
There is no reason as I know of to imagine so.
Robert Tunstall, Esq. sworn.

R. Tunstall. I have known him two years.

What is his general character? — He is industrious, and very capable
of his business. His behaviour has been prudent ; he is the principal
man in his father's business in drawing and scheming.*
Mr. Peter Brit shell sworn.

P. Brushell. I have known him from a child.

What ,s his character ? — I always took him to be a very sober, honest
man. His father has done a great deal of business for me, and is now
at work for me.

Who did you generally pay the money to ? — I generally paid the
father j if the prisoner had applied to me, I would have let him have
£100 at any time.

Is he capable of business ? — He is very capable : he drew a plan
for me last Saturday was se'nnight.

Did you look upon him to be in desperate or distressed circumstances ?
No, I did not.

Has he always been a visible man ? — Always.
Mr. Jelfe sworn.

Jelfe. I am the king's mason. 1 have known the prisoner seven
years or more.

Do you look upon him to be capable of his business ? — I believe
he is a very capable man in his business.

What is his general character? — Always a very worthy, honest man.

Did you ever see him guilty of any extravagancy ? — No, never.

Do you live near him ? — I am a very near neighbour to him, and keep
him company on evenings, within this year or two more particularly.

* Mr. John Barnard, the father of the prisoner, built Kew Bridge for this Mr. Tunstall.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 123

William Robinson, Esq. sworn.

Robinson. I have known him about six or seven years.
Is he a person capable of his profession ? — I believe he is.
What has been his behaviour? — I always looked upon him to be
a very sober, diligent, frugal man.

Did you look upon him to be in desperate circumstances ? — No, not
at all.

Thomas Kynaston, Esq. sworn.
Kynaston. I have known him six or seven years.
What are you ? — I belong to the board of works.
What is your opinion of the prisoner's situation ? — I think he is in a
good one.

What has been his behaviour ? — That has been always good.

Mr. Keynton Cowse sworn.

Cowse. I have known him seven years, and been in his company
many times.

What is his character ? — He is a very worthy young man, sober and
industrious, always attending his father's business.

Mr. Uffort sworn.

Uffort. I have known him about six or seven years ; he is a sober
sedate young man as ever I met with. I have done business for him
several times.

Mr. Brent sworn.

Brent. I have known. him upwards of three years.
What is his character ? — He has a good character j he is a very indus-
trious man. I have frequently paid him money.

Mr. Jones sworn.

Jones. I have known him several years.

What is his general character? — He is very honest; no ways
extravagant, that could lead him in into a desperate state j he is as
moral a man as any I know, and has had as good a character.

Mr. Wilson sworn.

Wilson. I have known him about seven years.

What has been his behaviour during that time ? — It has been always
very well. I always looked upon him as an honest man.

Did you ever look upon him to be in a desperate way in his fortune ?
— No, never.

Q to Mr. Barnard the elder. Where was you when your son was sent
for to the Duke of Marl borough's ? — Mr. Barnard. I was then out
of town. I have not been in town above one week these five or six
weeks.

Mr. Sergeant Davy, evidently shaken in his own mind by these
witnesses, commented in his reply, with much acumen though fairly,
on the evidence ; when he had concluded, the jury at once acquitted the
prisoner, and a second indictment against him was then abandoned
by the prosecution. To complete the mystery, the Duke died within the
year of the period of this investigation, before the session had expired, and
the matter remains to this day unexplained.

124

THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND.

Castle,
THE SEAT OP THE EARL OF HOWTH.

And dance and song within these walls have sounded,
And breathing music rolled in dulcet strains,

And lovely feet have o'er these gray stones bounded
In snowy garments and embroidered trains —

Such things have been.

ABOUT nine miles rapid railroad travelling brought me from the metropo-
lis of the Emerald Isle to the lofty promontory, called in ancient Irish by
the appropriate name of Ben eider or the Eagle's Cliff. In those primi-
tive ages its secluded position — the extreme point of the coast — and
the sterile aspect of the rough hillsides affording little temptation to the
agriculturist, left it the retreat for religious men, bent on avoiding a
wordly life, and, if these lovers of retirement wished to attain a still
more retired habitation, the neighbouring Island of Lambay lay conve-
niently near. Between Lambay and the coast is Ireland's Eye, distant
about a mile — a mass of irregularly shaped rocks, with little soil on the
surface, and measuring about a mile and a half in circumference.
Here are the remains of an ancient church, founded by St. Nissan, in the
sixth century, and the venerated book of the Four Gospels, called the
" Garland of Howth/' was preserved here. Opposite, on the bold cliff,
overhanging: the sea, are the picturesque ruins of the Abbey, or College
of Howth, supposed to have been built by Sitric, a Danish Prince,
A.D. 1038. The ruins are very magnificent, enclosed in a quadrangular
area defended by a rampart — the embattled walls pleasingly contrasting
with the peaceful aspect of the time worn ruins. The church- yard is
shamefully allowed to become a perfect garden of weeds. I could
hardly make any way through the groves of nettles, and other weeds
which cover the entire space ; some effort is made to preserve the build-
ings, and a strong iron railing protects a curious old monument to one
of the Lords Howth, and his Lady, whose effigies, in their respective
habiliments, are wrought in the stone forming the lid. The date is
1430. Not far distant is Howth Castle. The entrance, close to
the church, is modern, yet tasteful j clusters of circular granite pillars
with conical capitals support massive iron gates, and open on a well
kept very exclusive demesne. The castle is a long, rather low, struc-
ture, flanked by square battlemented towers at the angles, and the
square hall door in the centre, surmounted by a pediment, is approached
by a lofty flight of steps. The hall is a very fine one, and the lover of
antiquities has a treat. Antique armour — the weapons of days when
war was the profession of most men — are here. A large two-handed
sword is pointed out as having belonged to the founder of the family,

HOWTEI CASTLE. 125

whose adventures by flood and field rival any recounted in romance or
fable. The name of Sir Armoricus Tristram deserves to be recorded.
He it was who formed the compact with his brother-in-law Sir John
De Courcy, in St. Mary's church at Rouen, that they should become
brothers in arms as well as brothers in love, and whatever spoil they should
take, in land or wealth, should be equally divided between them. On
the strength of this agreement, they sought achievements in various
parts of France and England, and turning their prow westward they
"steered their bark for Erin's Isle," and anchored off Howth. De
Courcy was confined to the ship by sickness, and the command devolv-
ing on Sir Armoricus, he ordered a landing. The Irish assembled in
haste, but not arriving in time to prevent the invaders reaching the shore,
attacked them at the bridge of Evora, which crosses a mountain stream
on the north side of Howth. This conflict was maintained on both
sides with the desperate valour of men preferring to die than yield.
Seven sons of Sir Armoricus were slain, together with many of his
kindred, but the Irish were routed. In clearing out the foundation of
a church built on the spot some years since, a quantity of bones were
discovered, together with an antique anvil, with bridle, bits, and other
accoutrements. This might hare been the armourer's anvil used in
closing up the rivets preparatory to the engagement. The result of the
victory was to give the lands and castle of Howth to the gallant Sir
Armoricus, as his share of the conquest. The account of his death is
a strong proof of his valour. While engaged with some of his knights
in making an incursion into Connaught, they were surprised and sur-
rounded by a superior force — yet a chance of escape existed — the
knights suggested to avail themselves of the swiftness of their steeds
and save themselves by flight, but Sir Armoricus disdained life on such
terms. He dismounted from his gallant charger, drew his sword, and
kissing the cross forming the guard, thrust it into his horse's side. His
example was followed by all the knights except two, who acted as
videttes, and they alone returned to tell the sad tale that the brave
Sir Armoricus, and his companions, died as became Norman knights, with
their faces to the foeman. The family name was changed from
Tristram to St. Lawrence on the following occasion. One of the lords of
the race commanded an army about to engage in battle against the Danes
on St. Lawrence's Day. He made a vow to the Saint that if victorious
he would assume the name of St. Lawrence, and entail it on his
posterity. The Danes fled and the name retained.

A long flight of steps leads from the hall to a chamber, in which is a pic-
ture representing a female figure mounted on a white horse, in the act of
receiving a child from a peasant. This is supposed to refer to the tradition
of the celebrated Granu Uile, or Grace O'Malley, who, returning from the
Court of Queen Elizabeth, landed at Howth, and proceeded to the castle,
but found the gates shut, the family having gone to dinner. Enraged
at this utter want of Irish hospitality, the indignant chieftainess proceeded
to the shore, where the young lord was at nurse, hurried with him on board,
and sailed to Connaught where her castle stood. An ample apology
being made and promise of future hospitality to all such guests, l the
child was restored, on the express stipulation that the gates should be
always thrown open when the family went to dinner. There is a bed
shown in which King William III slept. In the saloon is a full length
of that curious combination of good and evil — Dean Swift, with the

126 HOWTH CASTLE.

draper's letters in his hand. The notorious Wood is crouching beside
him, and his half-pence are scattered about. In a most entertaining and
ably written work, "The Homes and Haunts of the Poets," Mr. Howitt
has taken some pains to prove that Mr. Wood was not at all to blame,
and much more " sinned against than sinning."

The antiquity of this family in Ireland may be judged from the fore-
going remarks. The title of Baron was conferred so far back as
1177, a few years after the arrival of the English. In 1^67 the
Barony was merged in the title of Viscount St. Lawrence, then
created Earl of Howth. The alliances and offices filled by various
members of this noble house would occupy a large space j the fifteenth
Baron was Lord Chancellor of Ireland, A.D. 1483 ; he married the
second daughter of the Duke of Somerset, which entitles Lord Howth
to claim descent from the renowned English Monarch King Edward III.
The present peer is the 29th in succession from the founder of the family,
Sir Armoricus Tristram. The Earl married, in 1826, Lady Emily de
Burgh, second daughter of the late Earl of Clanricarde, and has one son
and four daughters : the beautiful and amiable Countess died in 1842, to
the universal regret of every one who had the honour of her acquaint-
ance. His eldest son, the Viscount St. Lawrence, is a Lieutenant in
the 7th Hussars, and is at present on the Staff of his Excellency the
Earl of Clarendon, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.

p, co. Corfe,

THE SEAT OF HENRY SMYTH, ESQ. J. P.

" Swift Anniduff, which of the Englishman
Is called Blackwater,"

WASHES the trunks of tall trees that fringe the lawns of Renny, and the
Irish Rhine, as this noble river has been justly termed, still murmurs past
a magnificent oak, under the shade of whose far stretching boughs the
Poet of the Age, Edmund Spencer, is said to have composed the Faerie
Queene. And to this monarch of the wood comes many an humble
bard, desirous to pay the tribute of his homage ; full of veneration for
the genius which nourished beneath its branches. What glorious aspi-
rations were poured forth on the spot ? How many splendid stanzas,
rich in wondrous imagery, and brilliant thoughts, found a voice and
birth under this tree ! It is a meet spot for a poet to compose in. The
banks here are high and precipitous, and clothed in wood, and their soli-
tude would lead you to suppose the busy world shut out, and this the
happy valley of Rasselas. The fame of this tree is a great attraction to
Renny, and Spencer's Oak is regarded with becoming honour. Though
there is no doubt that Renny formed a portion of the poet's estate in this
county, his usual residence was several miles distant at Kilcolman Castle ;
and, it was not until after his death, which was hastened by the ruin of
his fortune attending the destruction of Kilcolman by the insurgents in
1597, that his family occupied Renny prominently. This property was
a portion of the great Desmond estate, from which Edmund Spencer
obtained a grant of 3028 acres. And close by the Mansion-house are
the venerable remains of a castle, boldly situated on the verge of a mag-
nificent ledge of rocks. This castle is considered to have belonged to

RUNNY. 127

the Geraldines. The dwelling of the Spencers lay in the rear of the
present house, which is not of any antiquity, and some of the rooms have
been turned to account. In one, now used as a dairy, there is a tragical
circumstance related as having occurred to a descendant of Spencer's.
He had contracted an intimacy with his housekeeper, which she expected
would cause him to marry her — great was her anger to learn that he was
on the eve of consigning her to infamy, by marrying another. She resolved
on vengeance, and, while in the act of shaving him, as was the habit of
this Lothario, she cut his throat. This Mr. O'Flanagan correctly states
in his Guide to the Blackwater to have occurred in the small antique
dwelling at Renny j but he does not, — as Mr. Howitt in the " Homes and
Haunts of British Poets," attributes to him — thereby mean the present
mansion, which, as the latter writer justly observes, is a good modern
mansion.

Renny-House, formerly the property of the Reverend C. Wallis, who
evidently aspired to high dignities in the church, as the stone mitres on
the gate piers attest, is a quiet respectable country seat. The rooms are
well proportioned, and commodious, and afford several exquisite views.
One, from the large drawing room, is a perfect picture. It takes in a
shelving steep bank well wooded, and overlooking a spacious dell, with
the bright mirror-like river flowing through fair meadowy niches.
This charming landscape presents a constant variety, every change of
sky causing a change of aspect. Now the sun is gleaming on hill and
tree, and wave, and all is brilliant and gay. A cloud dulls the heavens,
and darkness comes on, and black shadows steal out like robbers from
gloomy caves, and mists hang on the hill tops. A little distance from
the house the path leads round an angle of wood, and majestic rocks
stands before us. Here all is sublime and beautiful, not ideal, such as
Burke wrote on, but real and substantial. These giant rocks rise up bold
and frowning, a rugged feature in the quiet scene. Some natural caverns
seem scooped in their sides, and water lies at the base. These rocks are
surmounted by the buildings, and the ancient walls of the Fitz-Gerald
Castle, still crown the top. Fine pasture lands stretch from the base, and
lowing herds of cattle, and flocks of fleecy sheep, and sportive lambs,
brouse to their full content. Some slender greyhounds chasing each
other in rapid circles gave animation to the scene. We gazed, and gra-
tified our curiosity by a minute survey of the dwelling with its pretty
garden and ruined castle, the spreading lawn and its fine clumps of trees
shading the flocks and herds, the massive rocks forming the solid foun-
dation for the mansion, the wooded slopes descending the meadows, the
river flowing hurriedly past, and Spencer's oak with its hallowed associa-
tion of poetry and history, until in the words of Wilson —

Thus gently blended many a human thought,
With those that peace and solitude supplied ;
Till in our hearts the musing kindness wrought
With gradual influence like a flowing tide,
And for the lovely sound of human voice we sighed.

VOL. IV. NO. XVI.

128

ON IRISH BARONIES BY WRIT.

THERE are few subjects connected with the history of Ireland, which
furnish more interesting matter for inquiry than the laws that regu-
late the descent of the ancient baronies of that kingdom, many of which
still remain in the possession of the male heirs of the original grantee,
and are enjoyed by them, while the remainder have become extinct, dor-
mant or in abeyance.

This subject has been ably treated by several genealogical writers,*
more especially by Mr. Lynch, who in his "Feudal Dignities of Ireland,"
and " Case of Prescriptive Baronies/' has with great labour and research
nearly, if not altogether, determined that none of those ancient baro-
nies could be inherited by heirs female.

Yet, however great diversity of opinion still exists on this subject,
many claims have within the last few years been put forward by the
representatives of female lines, and several of the most eminent counsel
of the Irish bar, some of whom now sit on the bench of that kingdom,
have given decided and strong opinions in favour of such claims.

The importance of this subject will be known from the fact, that if
such claims be admitted, the effect will be to place, in all probability,
nearly fifty different families in the place and precedence of the ancient
baronies of Ireland, which they represent through female heirs, and con-
sequently to declare that those peers, who now hold baronies as male
heirs of the first grantees, have been wrongfully created peers to the ex-
clusion of female heirs, and enjoy the place and precedence of such
original baronies through mistake.

In the following pages we propose taking a review of the subject, and
to shew the descent of the original baronies of Ireland, adding the ar-
guments which have been put forward on both sides of the question, as
to the singular difference^ which exists between the rules which regulate
the descent of such baronies in England, and the rules which regulate
those of Ireland, or at least which custom has all but established in the
latter kingdom.

It is hardly necessary to remark, that in the former kingdom the
early baronies, created by writ of summons, have invariably descended
to the female heir, or if coheirs, it has gone into abeyance amongst them,
and lain dormant until such time as the crown has been pleased to ter-
minate the abeyance in favour of some one of the coheirs or their repre-
sentatives, and thus many of these baronies have been inherited, (as in
the case of the baronies of de Ros, le de Spencer, &c.f) by many different
families passing in and out, through heirs and coheirs.

* Cruise, on Dignities ; Sir John Davis' Reports, Case of County Palatine ; Coke's
Institutes, County Palatine of Chester.

f De Ros has passed by a coheir to the Manners, Earls of Rutland, from them to
the Cecils, Earls of Exeter, back to the Manners, then to the Villiers, Dukes of Buck-
ingham, then to the sisters and heirs of Manners, 6th Earl of Rutland, when the

ON IRISH BARONIKS BY WRIT. 129

While, on the other hand, in Ireland, baronies created by the same form
of writ, by the same king, have in every instance, except one (which
shall be mentioned hereafter,) gone to the heirs male of the original
grantee, passing over in all but the one instance the claims of heirs female,
it is the singular anomaly we would here discuss, endeavouring to place
before the reader the different arguments which have been adduced in
favour of each rule of descent by those who have examined and treated
on the points involved in the question.

It cannot be doubted, that, after the conquest of Ireland by Henry II.
King of England, all the early feudal dignities and titles introduced
into the former kingdom were founded on the same laws, customs and
usages, as those which regulated the honours then existing in England ;
and it is but reasonable to suppose that those who introduced them
into Ireland would found them on the same principles as regulated those
of the kingdom whence they came, and by which many of them held
dignities there themselves.

Sir Hugh de Lacy received as a reward for his valour the entire
county of Meath, which was erected into a palatine honour for him ;
this enabled him to grant, as lord of that palatine, rights and liberties
which constituted the grantee a baron of such honour. It is not in-
tended hereto enter into any discussion as to the nature and constitution of
these baronies, which were without doubt modelled on the baronies of the
palatines of England, and gave to the possessor all the rights and privileges
and powers which belonged to what was then called a barony. There
is however conclusive evidence that the baronies created of the palatine
of Meath passed in several different instances to heirs female, and that
their descendants were thence denominated.*

The lordship of Meath itself was divided between the two daughters
and coheirs of Gilbert de Lacy, grandson of Hugh de Lacy, the first
lord, the elder of whom, Maud, having married Geoffrey de Geneville,
conveyed to him the lordship of Trim, and a moiety of Meath, and Mar-
gery, the youngest coheir, conveyed to her husband, the Lord John de
Verdon, the remaining moiety. There is also equally satisfactory evi-
dence as to the descent of the province of Leinster, the great heritage of
the De Clares, which came to the Marshals, by marriage with Isabel de
Clare, the heiress of Richard Strongbow, and which great inheritance
was finally divided amongst her daughters and coheirs on the decease

abeyance was terminated in favour of Charlotte Walsingham, wife of Lord Henry Fitz-
gerald, in whose descendants it now remains.

The barony of Le de Spencer, passed by a female line to the Beauchamps, Earls of
Worcester, thence to the Nevilles, thence to the Fanes, Earls of Westmoreland, then
to the Dashwoods, to the Pauls, and now exists in the Stapyltons.

* Colmolyn passed from the Fitz Leons, to the Genevilles, and Simon de Geneville
was denominated Lord Colmolyn, and thence to the Cusacks, the death of one of whom
is entered on the Roll of the Mortelege of Kells. " Dom. John La Culmolyn, 1370.

Delvin, held by the Nugents, went to the Fitz Johns, and back again to the Nugems,
through female heirs. Killcen went from the Cusacks to the Tuites, back again to
the Cusacks, and then to the Plunkets. These two latter baronies having been since
that date in the Nugent and PJunket families, it has become a question how far the
present peerages were inherited by the present Lords of Delvin and Killeen, or whether
they are new creations wrongly placed in the precedence of the old baronies, which is
the point we are now treating of, and the descent of which will be more fully ex-
plained hereafter.

L 2

130 ON IUISH BARONIES BY WRIT.

of their brothers, without issue, a portion of which was inherited by the
Fitzgeralds, and constituted the barony of Ophaley or Offtdey, still held
by their descendants.

Thus then it appears that the ancient feudal baronies of Ireland fol-
lowed the same rules of descent as similar honours in England, for at
least the first two centuries after the conquest of that kingdom ; when
therefore we find at a later period the descendants of those very persons,
who themselves inherited from heirs female, summoned by the title of the
barony thus inherited, in the usual form of a writ of summons, and
afterwards this barony not passing in the natural course of descent to
heirs female, but to the inheritor of the estate as heirs male, we can
only come to the conclusion, that such barony was either one of tenure,
or that the heirs female were wrongly disposessed, or that some remarkable
alteration occurred at a later period which altered the usual course of
descent in Ireland, making it different from that of England. In exa-
mining these three points, and describing the singular anomaly which
exists, it will be necessary first therefore to trace the origin of a writ of
summons to parliament in Ireland.

To the parliament held in 1295, only twenty-nine persons were sum-
moned ; while to that held in 1309 at Kilkenny, eighty-seven were sum-
moned, a very large increase in so few years ; and the only account of
which we have is given by Spenser, in his view of Ireland, who also
alludes to the introduction of peerages by writ. The passage alluded is
as follows :

"Eudoxius. — You say well, for by means of freeholders their number
hereby will be greatly augmented ; but how shall it pass in the higher
house, which still must consist of all Irish ?"

" Ireeneus. — Marry that also may be redressed by ensamples of that
which I have heard was done in like case by King Edward the Third,
(second) as I remember, who being greatly bearded and crossed by the
Lords of the Clergy, they being then by reason of the Lord Abbots and
others too many, and too strong for him, so that he could not for their
frowardness order and reform things as he desired, was advised to direct
out his writs to certaine gentlemen of the best ability and trust, entitling
them barons in the next parliament, by which means he had so many
barons in his parliament as were able to weigh down the clergy and

.\ •/»•«_. D O*'

their friends.

All statutes which were enacted in England, were immediately certified
in Ireland, and became law there; and there is no doubt that at a very
early period after the settlement of the constitution of England and the di-
vision of the Great Council of the nation into two houses, the same change
was made in Ireland, and, as would appear from the above extract, the ba-
rons were summoned in the same manner as in England. The following
writ to the celebrated parliament of Kilkenny in 1309, will shew
the form used. It is also to be remarked that those writs were in many
instances directed to the different barons, not by the names of their
estates, but by their surnames, and those barons who did not attend
were fined for non-attendance according to the usual custom, thus
showing that in every particular the custom which regulated the parlia-
mentary assemblies of England prevailed in Ireland, each holder of cer-
tain lands being liable to be summoned to the council of the king.

"Rex.— A. B. Salutem.— Sciatis super quibusdam arduis negotiis

ON IRISH BARONIKS BY WRIT. 131

noset statum terre nostri contingentihus vobiscum hahere. Volumus
tractatum specialem vobis mandamus quod scitis in propria persona, ves-
tra apud Kilkeniam, die lune in octavis purificationis beato Marie, nd trac-
tandum et parliamentandum cum justicinrio nostro. Hibernie et aliis
de concilio (nostro) et cum ceteris proceribus et magnetibus terre nostre
super eisdem negotiis. Et Hoc nullatentis omittatis in fide que nobis
tenemini. Et habeas ibi hoc breve. Teste Johanne Wogan, Justic, etc.,
apud Dublin viii. die Januarii, Anno Regni nostri tertio."*

It will not be necessary here to enter into the question, of whether
the baronies followed the course of tenure ? The question we consider is,
whether the exclusion of female heirs was wrongful, or whether the male
heirs were justly placed in place and precedence of the original summons
to parliament? If the latter be correct, it must wholly rest on the ground
that the laws of Ireland are different from those of England, and that
the common law of the former differs from that of the latter, and thus
a different derivation is given to the descent of the peerage of that
country.

It will be well, before entering further into the question, to deduce the
descent of two or three of those original baronies, showing where and how
the heirs female have been excluded; and the heirs male placed and
summoned in the original place and precedence of the barony.
The most remarkable descents are to be found in the baronies of

Slane ; held by the Flemmings.

Howth j by the St. Lawrences.

Gormanstoun ; by the Prestons.

Killeen ; by the Plunkets.

Kinsale ; by the Courcys.

Ophaley ; by the Fitzgeralds.

Athenry j by the Berminghams.

Delvin j by the Nugents.

Dunsany ; by the Plunkets.

Le Poer ; by the Poers.

The last barony in the above list is the exception before allwled to as
furnishing the only instance of a barony of Ireland being inherited ac-
cording to the laws of England, and given to a female heir.

Nicholas Le Poer was summoned to parliament as a baron in Novem-
ber 1375, by the name and title of Baron Le Poer ; this barony was thus
created by writ, which is still preserved in the Record office of Ireland.
From him the barony descended uninterruptedly in the male line to
Richard Le Poer, who was in 1673, created Viscount Decies and Earl of
Tyrone.

James Le Poer became third Earl on the decease of his brother John
second Earl. He left at his death in 1704, an only daughter and heiress
Catherine Le Poer, who claimed as of right the ancient barony created
by writ, and her claim having been submitted to the Irish House of Lords,
was admitted by their lordships, and the ancient barony is now enjoyed
by her descendant, the present Marquess of Waterford, who is Baron
Le Poer, with the original place and precedence of the original barony
created 23rd November, 1375.

Here then we have a solemn decision of the House of Peers, to the

* Sir John Wogan was at this date Lord Justice of Ireland Patt. Roll. Hib. 1093.

132 ON IRISH BARONIES BY WRIT,

effect that the peerage law of Ireland is the same as that of England.
Yet notwithstanding this decision the question is still apparently unde-
termined, no other decision having been come to by the House of Lords.
Although several cases have of late years been submitted to it by claimants
through heirs female, that such is also the opinion of the most eminent
barristers of Ireland, will be seen from the following answers to queries
submitted to them, and which may be shortly stated in substance as
follows.

"The common law of Ireland as contradistinguished from the statute
law, was and is exactly the same as the common law of England, as
well touching the descent of peerages as all other subjects ; it is not
possible to maintain that any peerage Irish or English can, except by
Act of Parliament, be regulated by a course of descent opposed to the
course prescribed by the common law of both countries. A peerage
created by letters patent will follow the course of descent presented in
that patent. A peerage by writ will descend to the heirs lineal, male and
female, of the person first entitled. A barony by tenure or as it is some-
times called by prescription, will follow the descent of the tenure when such
exists j but this case may be put out of view as a species of dignity now
quite out of use, save in afew special cases, and quite inapplicable to thepre-
sent question. No custom or prescription can prove the control, or affect
the common law course of descent of a peerage. The persons summoned
to the parliament of Kilkenny in the year 1309, by writ of summons, be-
came in consequence of such writs barons, and these baronies were inhe-
ritable by heirs male and female.

If the above opinion is correct, all those baronies which were created
by the writs of summons in 1309, must, if not extinct, be in abeyance.
None of the baronies, which now exist in the male heirs of the
present day as representatives of their ancestors who were summoned to
that parliament, have descended without the intervention of female heirs
and coheirs. In deducing the descent of the several baronies which
still exist or have been claimed, we will commence with the barony of
Slane, which perhaps furnishes as numerous instances as any other of the
intervention of coheirs, and the peerage passing over them, reverting to
the heirs male. This claim has been several times before the House of
Lords, a petition having been presented by Mr. Bryan, who claims to be,
and is, without doubt, the representative of one of the coheirs of the last
baron of Slane ; a claim has likewise been made by Mr. James Fleming
as heir male. The House of Lords decided against the claim of Mr.
Bryan in 1835.

Baldwin le Fleming, lord of the manor of Slane, in the lordship of
Meath, was one of the palatine barons of that lordship. He was sum-
moned to the parliament of Kilkenny by writ, in 1309, not by the title
of Slane, but as Lord le Fleming. From him descended,

Christopher Fleming, fifth Lord le Fleming. He sat in parliament 29th
Henry VI, but died without issue, when his sisters became his coheirs,
namely :

Anne Fleming, the wife of Walter Dillon, Esq.
Annia Fleming, the wife of John Bellew.

Here then we had the first intervention of coheirs in the Slane peerage,
and the first interruption to the lineal male-descent of that peerage on the
death of Christopher, the fifth lord. David Fleming, son of the fourth

ON IRISH BARONIES BY WRIT. 133

Lord le Fleming, inherited the manor of Slane (which was held in fee
tail of the heirs of Theobobald de Verdon, as of the manor of Duleek,
having come to that family, through one of the heirs of the Lacy's,) as
heir male to his nephew Christopher. He was summoned to parliament
as Lord le Fleming with the precedence of the old barony, and sat in
parliament 1462. An act of parliament having passed to settle his pre-
cedence, he died in 1463, and on his death his son Thomas became his
heir, but he dying young, his three sisters became his coheirs — while
the manor of {Slane passed to his distant heir at law. — Pipe Roll.

James Fleming, Knt., son and heir of William Fleming, of New-
castle, descended from the third Lord le Fleming, and his wife, Elizabeth
Preston, which James, succeeding to the manor of Slane, was summoned
to parliament 12th Edward IV, he signed a representation to Richard
III from the Irish parliament, as James Fleming, Baron of Slane.

His grandson, James Fleming, third Lord Slane, sat in parliament
during the reign of Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth, but on his death
without issue, the manor of Slane went to the heir male, and his
sisters became his coheirs.

Catherine Fleming, the wife of Sir Christopher Barnwell, of Cricks
town ; and Elenor.

Thomas Fleming, of Stephens town, became heir male on the death
of his kinsman, and succeeded to the estates -, he was summoned to
parliament as Barun Slane, 1585, and sat in 1587. He died, leaving
issue two daughters his coheirs : Catherine, the wife of Pierce Butler of
Old Abbey, co. Kilkenny ; and Ellenor, who married William Flem-
ing of Depatrick, who became heir male, and inherited the ancient
manor of Slane. From him it passed to his son Christopher, who was
summoned and sat in parliament 1613-15. The deceased Christopher
became last Baron of Slane, and on his death in 1728 his sisters
became his coheirs : Mary, wife of Richard Fleming, of Stahalmock ;
and Alice, wife of Sir George Byrne, Bart. The former of whom is
represented by the Lord Dunsany, and the latter by George Bryan,
Esq., who claimed without success the barony in 1835.

134

THE LANDS OF ENGLAND, AND THEIR PRO
PRIETORS SINCE THE CONQUEST.

, to.

.... Rokeby's turrets high
Were northward in the dawning seen
To rear them o'er the thicket green.

THE ancient manor of Rokeby is classic ground. The poetic genius of
Scott has thrown a halo of imperishable celebrity around its romantic
beauties, and imparted a national interest to its history. With extreme
accuracy of observation and felicity of expression the bard describes the
passage through the glen : —

"A stern and lone, yet lovely road,
As e'er the foot of minstrel trode.'*

And few can contemplate " Egliston's grey ruins," or " Rokeby's turrets

high," without feeling that the charm of poetry hangs over them. At the

period of the Conquest, all the territory abutting on the Tees, at its southern

border, was granted to Alan, Earl of Rretagne, and formed his English

Earldom of Richmond. These broad lands were partitioned among the

junior members of his family and his followers; and in the distribution

Rokeby became part of the possessions of the Fitzalans, a northern baronial

house, whose chief seat was at Bedale. But their interest at Rokeby was

scarcely more than nominal, for beneath them was a subinfeudation in

favour of a family, which, residing on the lands of Rokeby, was usually de-

scribed as " de Rokeby," and eventually assumed that name as a personal

appellation, tradition asserting that its ancestors had been there seated

in Saxon times. The first honourable occurrence of the Rokebys in

public affairs, is in the reign of Edward III., when Thomas de Rokeby ren-

dered the name one of historic distinction. " In the first year of Edward III.,"

says Froissart, " the Scots, under the command of the Earl of Moray, and

Sir James Douglas, ravaged the country as far as Newcastle ; Edward was

in those parts with a more powerful army, and an engagement was expected

and wished for, when the Scotch army suddenly disappeared, and no infor-

mation could be gained respecting the route they had taken. The young

king caused it to be proclaimed throughout the host, that whoever should

bring certain intelligence where the Scotch army was should have one

hundred pounds a year in land, and be made a knight by the king himself :

immediately fifteen or sixteen knights and esquires passed the river with

much danger, ascended the mountains, and then separated, each taking a

different route. On the the fourth day, Rokeby, who was one of them, gave

the king exact information where the Scots lay." " This," says Hunter,

the learned historian of South Yorkshire, " is not a legendary story, in-

vented by some family annalist, or doating chronicler of public affairs, the

veracity of the narrative being here supported by the most authentic records

of the realm ; and it is a gratifying fact that we are so often enabled to

prove circumstances in our old chronicles, which, on a first view, have an

ROKEBY. 136

air of romance and fable, by fiscal documents, wherein, least of all, any-
thing imaginary is to be found." In the Patent Rolls, 1 Edward III., m.
7, is a grant to Thomas de Rokeby, of £100, to be taken annually from the
Exchequer till £100 lands shall be provided for him, in which the service
is described nearly as it is related by Froissart ; and in the same rolls, 5
Edward III., m. 7, is a grant to him in fee of the manor of Pawlinesgray,
in Kent, with lands in the north which had lately belonged to Michael
and Andrew de Harcle, in release of his £100 annuity from the Ex-
chequer. Sir Thomas Rokeby subsequently held commands against the
Scots, was twice High Sheriff of Yorkshire, and became (12 and 13 Ed-
ward III.) Governor of the Castles of Berwick, Edinburgh, and Stirling.
In 1346, he pre-eminently distinguished himself at the battle of Neville's
Cross, and was one of the few magnates present at that engagement to whom
the letter of thanks was addressed, of which a copy is to be found in the
Fcedera. In 1 349, he went to Ireland as Lord Justice, and held that ap~
pointment until 1355, when Maurice Fitz Thomas, Earl of Desmond, suc-
ceeded him. The administration of Sir Thomas Rokeby in Ireland, is
famous for the attempt he made to abolish the custom of coigne and livery, a
species of arbitrary purveyance for the persons in authority there ; and a
tradition has been handed down, attested by Holinshed, that being once
censured for using wooden dishes and cups, as not befitting his degree,
Sir Thomas replied, that he would rather drink out of such cups, and pay
gold and silver, than drink out of gold and silver and make wooden pay-
ments. In the latter transaction of his life, Sir Thomas appears with the
addition " The Uncle" to his name, and another Sir Thomas Rokeby occurs,
styled " the Nephew.'* He seems to have participated in the triumph of
Neville's Cross, and to have accompanied the elder Rokeby to Ireland. A
third Sir Thomas Rokeby was High Sheriff of Yorkshire, 8 Henry IV., and
during his year of office, the Earl of Northumberland made his last attempt
to dethrone King Henry; Sir Thomas collecting the posse comitatus, met
the Earl at Bramham Moore, and a conflict ensued, in which Northumber-
land and the Lord Bardolph were slain. The next Rokeby s distinguished
in state affairs were WILLIAM ROKEBY, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, arid
Archbishop of Dublin, who died in 1521, and Sir Richard Rokeby, his
younger brother, Comptroller to Cardinal Wolsey. The archbishop was
interred in a sepulchral chapel built by himself at Sandal Parva, in York-
shire, and this tomb still remains. While this eminent churchman was run-
ning the race of high preferment, the eldest branch of the family remained
quietly on the hereditary patrimony of Rokeby and Mortham. In the reign
of Henry VII. the head of the house was another Sir THOMAS ROKEBY,
who had three sons ; the two younger were the ancestors of families of the
name, resident at Marske and Staningford.

Ralph Rokeby, Esq., the eldest son, who succeeded to Rokeby and Mor-
thanr, was living in the reigns of Henry VII. and Henry VIII. The era
of the "jargon" of "the Felon Sow," which may be seen in the notes to
the poem of Rokeby, refers to the time of this Ralph. Sir Walter Scott
deems " the Hunting of the Felon Sow of Rokeby by the Friars of Richmond,"
one of the very best of the mock romances of the ancient minstrels, and
much commends its comic humour. " Ralph Rokeby, who (for the jest's
sake apparently) bestowed the untractable animal on the convent of Rich-
mond, seems," says the poet, "to have flourished in the time of Henry VII.,
which, since we know not the date of Friar Theobald's wardenship, to
which the ballad refers us, may indicate that of the composition itself.

136 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.

Mortham is mentioned as being the facetious Baron's place of residence ;
and the Mistress Rokeby of the romance, who so charitably refreshed the
sow, after she had discomfited Friar Middleton and his auxiliaries, was
daughter and coheir of Danby of Yafforth." By this -lady, Ralph Rokeby
had four sons, THOMAS, his heir j John, D.C.L. a learned civilian; Richard,
a soldier, under Lord Scrope of Boltori, whose standard he is said to have
borne at FJodden ; and Ralph of Skiers, an eminent lawyer, raised to the
coif 6 Edward VI. The eldest son, THOMAS ROKEBY, Esq. of Mortham,
described " as a plain man as might be, whose words came always from his
heart, without faining, a trusty friend, a forward gentleman in the field, and
a great housekeeper," was father, by his wife, a daughter of Robert Consta-
ble of Cliff, in Yorkshire, of four sons : CHRISTOPHER, his heir; Ralph,
one of the Masters of Requests to Queen Elizabeth ; Thomas, ancestor of
the Rokebys of Skiers, extinct baronets, and of the Rokebys of Arthing-
worth, co. Northampton, now represented by the Rev. HENRY RALPH
ROKEBY; and Anthony. Of these sons, the eldest, CHRISTOPHER
ROKEBY, Esq., married Margaret, daughter of Sir Roger Lascelles of
Brackenburgh, and had a son and successor, JOHN ROKEBY, Esq. of Mortham,
who appears, by the visitation of Yorkshire, 1584, to have been then in pri-
son in the Fleet, " religionis causa." He wedded a daughter of the ancient
family of Thweng, and was succeeded by his son, who bore the favourite
family name of THOMAS, and was knighted. Of his descendants little more
than their names are recorded. It would, otherwise, have been gratifying
to have known something of the personal habits and actions of those in
whose time the chief line of the ancient family of Rokeby fell to decay, and
especially of Sir Thomas Rokeby himself, whose necessities must have been
great (it may be presumed) when he disposed of the domain at ROKEBY, in
1610. The purchaser was WILLIAM ROBINSON. Esq., an opulent merchant
of the city of London, who paid a composition fine for declining the honour
of knighthood, at the coronation of Charles I. His son and heir apparent,
Thomas Robinson, Esq. of Gray's Inn, Barrister- at- Law, exchanged the
long robe for the broad sword, at the breaking out of the civil war, and was
slain near Leeds, when a colonel in the service of the parliament. By
Frances, his wife, daughter of Leonard Smelt, Esq., he left two sons :
WILLIAM, his heir ; and Leonard, (Sir) Chamberlain of the city of London,
ancestor of the Robinsons, of Edgely, co. York. The elder, WILLIAM ROBIN-
SON, Esq., succeeded to the lovely demesne of Rokeby, at the decease of hi?
grandfather, and resided there in high repute, so esteemed for his long ser-
vices on the magisterial bench as to be styled, par excellence, " the justice."
He lived to a great age, anddied universally lamented. A monumental stone,
with an elegant inscription in Rokeby church, marks the spot where he lies
interred. His grandson Sir THOMAS ROBINSON, Bart, who possessed conside-
rable architectural ta&te, rebuilt the mansion of Rokeby, erected a mausoleum,
and enclosed the park, which he adorned with extensive plantations. In
commemoration of these improvements, two marble tables, fixed in the two
stone piers, were placed at each side of the entrance into the park from
Greta Bridge.

That on the right with the following inscription : —

Hos

Quos intus cernes,
Omnigenarum fere arborum sylvestrium

Ordines,

Miliarii spacio usque ad clomura de Rookby,
Flexibus quasi serpentinis extensos,

ROKEBY. 137

Jam florentes ;
Et (faxit Deus) seris nepotibus umbram fractures

Anno Dom. 1730, consevit
Thomas Robinson, Baronettus

Et haec,

Ne forte poster! nescerent,

Marmori incidenda commisit

Anno 1737.

That on the left, with the following lines : —

Murum hunc

Qui inclusum vivarium circundat,

A latere fluminis Gretae occidental! porrectum

Anno Dom. 1723 inchoavit

Annoque 1730, absolvit

Thomas Robinson

Suae gentis

(A Scoti olim montanis oriundse

Inde ad Kendall, in Westmoria, migrantis

E t hie demum considentis)

Baronettus primus

Sextusquo hujusce domus de Rookby

Dominus.

Sir Thomas married twice, but died s.p. in 1777, when the baronetcy
and estates devolved on his brother William, at whose decease unm. in 1785,
they passed to his brother the Most Rev. Richard Robinson, Archbishop of
Armagh and Lord Almoner, a prelate of great influence and personal consi-
deration, who, on being elevated to the peerage in 1777, had assumed his
title from the lands of which we are now treating. His Grace died unm. 1794,
when the Barony of Rokeby devolved, by a special limitation in the patent,
on his kinsman Matthew Robinson, Esq. of Edgeley, whose grand nephew
Henry is the present Lord Rokeby. The estate, which gave name to the
title, was eventually purchased from the Robinsons by the father of the late
JOHN B. S. MORRITT, Esq. the friend and correspondent of Sir Walter
Scott ; and is now held by Mr. Morritt's son and successor.

Rokeby and Mortham, which formed the patrimony of the Rokeby's,
were situated, the former, on the left bank of Greta, the latter on the right,
about half-a-mile nearer to the junction with the Tees. The river runs with
very great rapidity over a bed of solid rock, broken 'by many shelving des-
cents, down which the stream dashes with great noise and impetuosity, vin-
dicating its etymology, which has been derived from the Gothic " Gridan,"
"to clamour." The banks partake of the same wild and romantic character,
being chiefly lofty cliffs of limestone rock, whose grey colour contrasts ad-
mirably with the various trees and shrubs which find root among their cre-
vices, as well as with the hue of the ivy, which clings round them in profu-
sion, and hangs down from their projections in long sweeping tendrils. At
other points the rocks give place to precipitous banks of earth, bearing large
trees intermixed with cope wood. In one spot the dell, which is everywhere
very narrow, widens for a space to leave room for a dark grove of yew trees,
intermixed here and there with aged pines of uncommon size. Directly op-
posite to this sombre thicket, the cliff's on the other side of the Greta are
tall, white and fringed with all kinds of deciduous shrubs. The whole
scenery of this spot is so much adapted to the ideas of superstition, that it
has acquired the name of Blockula, from the place where the Swedish
witches were supposed to hold their sabbath. The dell, however, has super-
stitions of its own growth, for it is supposed to be haunted by a female

133 THK LANDS OF ENGLAND.

spectre, called the Dobie of Mortham. The cause assigned for her appear-
ance is a lady's having been whilom murdered in the wood, in evidence
of which her blood is shewn upon the stairs of the old tower at Mortham ;
but whether she was slain by a jealous husband, or by savage banditti, or
by an uncle who coveted her estate, or by a rejected lover, are points upon
which the traditions of Rokeby do not enable us to decide.

The castle of Mortham which Leland terms " Mr. Rokeby's Place, in
ripa citer, scant a quarter of a mile from Greta Bridge, and not a quarter of
a mile beneath the trees," is a picturesque tower, surrounded by buildings of
different ages, now converted into a farm house and offices. The battle-
ments of the tower itself are singularly elegant, the architect having broken
them at regular intervals into different heights : while those at the corners
of the tower project into octangular turrets. They are also from space to
space, covered with stones laid across them, as in modern embrasures, the
whole forming an uncommon and beautiful effect. The surrounding build-
ings are of less happy form, being pointed into high and steep roofs. A wall
with embrasures, encloses the southern front, where a low portal arch affords
an entry to what was the Castle court. At some distance is most happily
placed, between the stems of two magnificent elms, —

a massive monument,

Carved o'er in ancient Gothic wise,
With many a scutcheon and device.

It is said to have been brought from the ruins of Eglistone Priory, and
from the armoury with which it is richly carved, appears to have been a tomb
of the Fitz- Hughs.

The situation of Mortham, is eminently beautiful, occupying a high bank,
at the bottom of which the Greta winds out of the dark, narrow and roman-
tic dell, and flows onward through a more open valley to meet the Tees,
about a quarter of a mile from the castle. Mortham is surrounded by old
trees, happily and widely grouped with Mr. Morritt's plantations.

Sir Walter Scott makes the following pleasing allusion to the romantic
scenery of Mortham.

* * * * # #

" And when he issued from the wood,
Before the gate of Mortham stood.
'Twas a fair scene ! the sunbeam lay
On battled tower and portal gray :
And from the grassy slope he sees
The Greta flow to meet the Tees ;
Where, issuing from her darksome bed,
She caught the morning's eastern red,
And through the softening vale below
Roll'd her bright waves, in rosy glow,
All blushing to her bridal bed,
Like some shy maid in convent bred ;
While linnet, lark and blackbird gay
Sing forth her nuptial roundelay." *

OTrtttle, co. <£S3t]r.

AMONG the remaining examples of the customs of our forefathers there are
perhaps none which are more interesting, or under the so called legal refor-
mations, more rapidly disappearing than the feudal tenures, curious customs
and arbitrary jurisdiction by which lands were held, either of the crown, or

WHITTLE. 1 39

of the great and powerful barons, each of whom ruled with a tyrant's
power over the inhabitants of his lordship, exacting on a reduced scale all
the homage of life and limb, which he in turn was bound to render to his
sovereign. There are still lands in England retaining many of these feudal
laws and customs, and of these the Manor of Writtle in Essex, which gives
the title to the noble family of Petre, is a remarkable specimen.

Writtle, the largest and one of the finest parishes in Essex, is considered
to be the site of the Roman station of Jasoromagus, named in the Itinerary
of Antoninous. In the reign of Edward the Confessor, it formed part of
tiie possessions of Earl Harold, who succeeded the Confessor in the govern-
ment of the kingdom, and after the battle of Hastings, Writtle fell into the
grasp of the Conqueror, who at the general survey, held it in demesne as
the king's fee — we may suppose it to have been a favourite hunting resort
of the succeeding monarchs, for in 1211, King John erected a palace there
opposite to what is now called the Lordship Farm, but the moat is the only
vestige of its magnificence. At a later period of his reign, John granted
the manor and park of Writtle, in fee farm with free warren to one of the
family of Nova Villa, or Neville. After various subsequent changes it re-
turned into the hands of the Nevilles, and in the 14th year of King Henry
III. it was held by Ralph Neville, Bishop of Chichester, the same who
built a palace in Holborn as a towrn residence for the bishops of his see,
when they visited London. This palace becoming the property of Henry
Lacey, Earl of Lincoln, has ever since been called Lincoln Inn. Henry
subsequently granted the Manor of Writtle for exchange of lands in the
county of Chester, to Isabella de Brugs or Braes, sister of the Earl of Ches-
ter, who was pcisoned by his wife, a Welsh heiress, and her son Robert did
homage for it, serving in Wales for one knight's fee. The grandson of this
Robert, being Earl of Carrick, so well known as the "Bruce of Bannock-
burn," having been crowned King of Scotland, at Scone, 25 March, 1305,
was forthwith deprived of all his English possessions by Edward I.
By an inquisition taken in the 5th year of Edward III., it was found that
Richard de Walleyes and Eleanora, his wife, did hold the third part of the
manor of Writtle, at the time of the death of the said Alianora, as of her
dower, arid it was further found that King Edward, father of Edward III.,
did grant to Humphrey de Bohun, sometime Earl of Hereford and
Essex, and to Elizabeth, his wife, the manors of Writtle and Horsefrith,
adjoining, and that of John de Bohun, then Earl of Hereford and Essex,
son and heir of the aforesaid held the manors of Writtle and Horsfrith, for
ever of the king in capite by the service of one knight's fee. John dying
without issue was succeeded by his brother, Humphrey, who obtained the
royal permission to embattle and fortify his house at Writtle, additions par-
ticularly necessary to the comfort and security of a feudal baron in those
times. Anne, the grand-daughter and heiress of Humphrey de Bohun, was
contracted whilst in tender years to Thomas, Earl of Stafford, who dying in
1 392, she by virtue of the king's special licence took hisnext surviving brother
and heir, Edmund, Earl of Stafford, for a husband ; he was slain at the battle
of Shrewsbury, in 1403, and their son Humphrey, who in addition to all
his other titles had been created Duke of Buckingham, was, at the time of
his death (being slain at the battle of Northampton, 1460,) found possessed
of the manor of Writtle and Boyton. Writtle continued to be among the
possessions of this family, until the death of Edward Stafford, the third and
last duke, who for some frivolous cause of offence given at a court banquet,
having fallen under the displeasure of the then all-powerful favourite Cardinal

140 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.

Wolsey, was through his malice and revenge, beheaded on Tower hill, 1 7 May,
1521 , whereupon all his estates being forfeited, the manor of Writtle once more
became the property of the crown. The manor of Writtle was once more des-
tined to change hands, Sir William Petre, one of the most successful statesman
and singular characters of *the remarkable times in which he lived, came
into notice of Henry VIII. soon after the disgrace and death of Cardinal
Wolsey. Sir William Petre having been secretary during three reigns,
(notwithstanding the different political and religious opinions which pre-
vailed during those reigns,) in the first year of the reign of Mary, he obtained
possession of the manor and park of Writtle. By this deed of grant, re-
markable from the fact that in it Queen Mary among her titles takes that
of Supreme Head of the Church of England and Ireland, she gives to Sir
William Petre, Knt. and his descendants in exchange for certain lands in
Somersetshire, and in consideration of his good, true, faithful and acceptable
services, to her therefore manifoldly rendered, and of her special grace in
consequence, all that the lordship and manor of Writtle, and those two parks
of Writtle and Horsfrith, in the county of Essex, with all, and singular their
rights, members and appurtenances, and all the right she herself possessed,
over all lands, fisheries, &c. within the said manors, the goods and chattels
of all felons and fugitives, the rights of wardship and marriage, each of which
appears to have been productive of much emolument, even after the coarse
customs of the early feudal barons had been laid aside, also all the perqui-
sites and profit?, in which are included the male and female deer in the
parks, and the male and female villeins or peasants with all their belongings,
in short absolute power over the inhabitants of the district, whether man or
beast. Together with all the feudal rights, customs, and appurtenances,
some of which customs are of a very singular description, and scarcely to
be understood at the present day, but which render the lord of the manor
even now a very formidable person in his own territory. He appoints his
own coroner for the peculiar and exempt jurisdiction of Writtle, and by his
steward, holds baronial courts within the manor, where all the singular
customs peculiar to ancient demesne, as Writtle is still styled, are rigorously
enforced; he there imposes fines, and on the death of a tenant or the alienation
of a tenant's property, he takes possession as a heriot of the best living
beast. At these courts wills can be proved without the interference of the
see of Canterbury, an instance of which occurred so lately as 1810. It
would perhaps be advantageous if the lord could still, as formerly exercise
some controul over the morals of the vassals, for at a court held in the
7th Henry VI. a man was severely fined for slandering his neighbour, and
the curate of the parish being convicted of immoral conduct, was not only
amerced himself in the then considerable sum of 33s. 4d., but the vicar also
had to pay a fine, for concealing the fault. It is the custom of the manor,
that on the death of a tenant, if his property be not claimed at the next
court, it may be seized into the lord's hands ; if a tenant leaving no son, die
intestate, his property devolves solely on his eldest daughter, to the ex-
clusion of the rest. To pass over a certain portion of the manor called
green-way, all carts, save those of the lords must pay a fine of four pence, this
is called lefe silver or lefe and lace. Another custom goes by the name of
stubble silver, it being a certain fine or airsage for every pig ranging in the
woods, from Michaelmas day to Martinmas, and such as were not duly
paid for, were at once forfeited to the lord. Various officers were appointed
to carry out the laws &c. of the manor, and continue to be so every year.
The bedell we may suppose formerly to have been a person of vast dignity

EUSTON. 141

and importance, his very garments partaking of his power, " for at one court
an unfortunate villain is fined 20 pence for pulling ye coat of ye bedell
set upon a door for the safe keeping of goods within." He was chosen by
the tenants. The prefsectus or overseer, was also chosen by the tenants ;
and there are many instances of recourse being had to severe measures to
oblige the person so chosen to do his duty gratis. The fugalores or wood-
wards, had charge of the woods and parks. An officer styled the lord's
paler collected the pale wheat due as rent from various tenants. The caterer,
(often alluded to by Chaucer) took charge of the lord's provisions, while the
wagebread visiting the bakers, was charged to report all those who sold
bread deficient in weight ; and that all things might be equally good, a dig-
nitary, bearing the title of the lord's taster of ale, seized all such as forfeit
which was not in his opinion sound and sufficient in strength. These are
some of the remarkable remaining customs of the feudal tenure of Writtle,
which has remained in the possession of Sir William Petre's descendants, to
the present day. His son John, was created a Peer by James I. with
the title of Baron Petre, of Writtle.

to. J^uffotfc.

" Here noble Grafton spreads his rich domains,
Round Euston's water' d vale, and sloping plains,
Here woods and groves in solemn grandeur rise,
Here the kite brooding unmolested flies ;
The woodcock and the painted pheasant race,
And sculking foxes, destined for the chase."

ROBERT Bloomfield, the rustic bard of Suffolk, was born in the vicinity of
" Grafton's rich domain;" and his muse loved to commemorate the beauties
of those favoured scenes, wherein his mind first became stored with that
abundance of rural imagery, which, feeding his natural passion for the
country, was one day to give an irresistible charm to the simple language
of the untaught peasant. Magical is the power of genius ! The humble
" Shepherd's boy, he sought no better name," has imparted a poetic as-
sociation to the princely home of Euston, more attractive than any other
connected with its history.

The village of Euston is situated a mile from Fakenham, but the park
extends nearly to that place. It was formerly the lordship of a family
bearing the local name, and afterwards descended to SIR HENRY BENNKT,
who by King Charles II. was made Secretary of State, and created
Viscount Thetford, and Earl of Arlington. He enjoyed the estate for
many years, and built the mansion of Euston Hall. In reference to this,
we find the following remarks of John Evelyn :

" A stranger preached at Euston church, and fell into a hansome pane-
gyric on my lord's new building the church, which indeed for its elegance
and cheerfulness is one of the prettiest country churches in England. My
lord told me his heart smote him that after he had bestowed so much on
his magnificent palace there, he should see God's house in the ruine it lay
in. He has also rebuilt the parsonage-house all of stone, very neat and
ample."

By Isabella of Nassau, his wife, daughter of Lewis, Count of Nassau, the
earl left an only daughter and heiress, ISABELLA, the wife of Henry Fitzroy,
second illegitimate son of King Charles II., by the Duchess of Cleveland.

142 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.

Immediately after his marriage in 1672, Henry Fitzroy was created by his
father Earl of Euston, and in three years after made Duke of Grafton.
His Grace died from the effects of a wound received at the siege of Cork,
9 Oct. 1690, and was buried at Euston. His son and successor, CHARLES,
2nd DUKE OF GRAFTON, K.G., Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, inherited, in right
of his mother, the Earldom of Arlington : he married Henrietta, daughter
of Charles, Marquess of Worcester, and dying in 1757, was succeeded by
his grandson, AUGUSTUS HENRY, 3rd DUKE OF GRAFTON, K.G. who filled
at one time the office of first Lord of the Treasury. His Grace died 14
March 1811, and was succeeded by his son, GEORGE HENRY, 4th DUKE OF
GRAFTON. K.G. Lord Lieutenant, Vice Admiral, and Gustos Rotulorum of
Suffolk. This nobleman died in Sept. 1844, when his honours and estates
devolved on his son, HENRY, present duke.

The mansion of Euston is large and commodious, built with red brick, of
modern date, and without any gaudy decorations within or without. The
house is almost surrounded with trees of uncommon growth, and the most
healthy and luxuriant appearance, and near it glides the river Ouse. The
scenery about the hall and park combines the most delightful assemblage
of rural objects that can well be imagined, and is justly celebrated by the
author of the " Farmer's Boy."

The estate is not less than between thirty and forty miles in circum-
ference, including a number of villages and hamlets. On an elevated situa-
tion in the park stands the temple. This elegant structure was designed
for a banqueting-house, and was built by the celebrated Kent, under the
auspices of Henry, 3rd Duke of Grafton, who laid the first stone himself in
1746. It consists of an upper and lower apartment, and is in the Grecian
style of architecture. It forms an interesting object from many points of
view in the neighbourhood, and commands a wide range of prospect.

Bloomfield, in his " Autumn," thus eulogizes Euston and its noble pro-
prietor :

" Here smiling Euston boasts her good Fitzroy
Lord of pure alms, and gifts that wide extend,
The farmer's patron, and the poor man's friend ;
Whose mansion glitt'ring with the eastern ray,
Whose elevated temple points the way
O'er slopes and lawns, the park's extensive pride,
To where the victims of the chase reside."

23rantfon 19arfe ariB ftflanov, to.

THIS ancient manor and estate appear to have been in the possession of King
Henry III., by whom, in the thirty-fifth year of his reign, they were granted
to Hugh Bishop of Ely, and his successors, together with free chase in all
their demesnes in that part of the country. So, the lands remained until the
time of ELIZABETH, when they reverted to the crown, in consequence, it is
presumed, of an exchange by the See for other estates : an inference borne
out by various records of the periods attesting that during the reign of Eliza-
beth and her immediate successor, no less than twenty suits were instituted
connected with the Brandon property, and that in one, a commision issued
out of the Court of Exchequer, directed to Sir John Heigham, Knt. and
Robert Peyton, Esq. to enquire into the subject of the controversy and to
return a certificate of their opinion thereon. The result of this investigation
was an award in favour of the crown, in which it was declared that the

THE LANDS OF ENGLAND. 143

manor, with free chase, right and royalties, vested ; and under this re-
cognition James I., in the third year of his reign, granted the estate
to his son Prince Charles and his heirs male : we next find Brandon
in the possession of Lord Villiers, Viscount Purbeck, elder brother
of the celebrated court favourite George, Duke of Buckingham, and it
remained with the Wrights, who claimed to be Lord Purbeck's descendants,
and long sought the family honours, until 1727, when John Wright, alias
Villiers, who assumed the titles of Viscount Purbeck and Earl of Bucking-
ham, becoming the associate of gamblers, and dissipating his inheritance,
sold the lands and manor of Brandon to the trustees of the will of the Lord
Chief Justice Holt. At length in 1818, Admiral George Wilson, of Red-
grave, whose mother was the heiress of the Holts, alienated Brandon, with
the manor, rights and royalties, to the late EDWARD BLISS, Esq., a gentle-
man of great opulence, and public spirit, who devoting unceasing attention
to the improvement of his purchase, was enabled to improve the district to a
most remarkable extent, and to ameliorate, in an equal degree, the condition
of the poor, by occupying them advantageously for their own interest as
well as for that of the community at large. Not long after the acquisition
of Brandon, he commenced planting, and in less than six months covered
a large portion of the land with no fewer than eight millions of trees, thus
transforming tracts hitherto wild and sterile into richly wooded plantations
and productive farms. Mr. Bliss, who was a justice of the peace, and
served as High Sheriff of Suffolk in 1836, died 2nd April, 1845, possessed
of immense wealth. Desirous of being buried on his own estate, he had
erected a spacious mausoleum near the house, embosomed in plantations,
and there "now repose his mortal remains.' Brandon Park, with its fine
mansion and the whole of his other property, (subject to some life annuities)
passed to his nephew Henry Aldridge, Esq., who by sign manual changed
his name to Bliss, and is the present lord of the manor.

The following acrostic, addressed to the late Mr. Bliss, on his adornment
of Brandon, is ascribed to the pen of his early friend, Lord Eldon : —

E-nchanted I view the scene with surprise :
D-oes not illusion deceive my rapt eyes ?
W-here are the sands, and where is the warren ?
A-re not these scenes, to my memory foreign ?
R-abbits and conies were lords of the soil,
D-eep sands made the traveller's journey a toil,
B-ut now the smooth turnpike invites to proceed :
L-o the warren is changed to a sweet verdant mead !
I-nstead of a desert, like Arabic ground
S-ee a Palace adorns, and forests abound ;
S-ee Bliss has created a Paradise round.

VOL. IV. NO. XVI.

144

'
siijjO

[list bn.e :

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

'•;'.'•'' •'V.'O.'.t.'i1'! ';i!.<-i').' '

THE publication of Sir Harris Nicolas on this subject belongs to that
branch of human learning ranged by Lord Bacon under the general
category of rt Antiquities or remnants of history," and which were
likened by him to the painting of a wreck (tabula naufragii) which is,
says he, when industrious persons by an exact and scrupulous diligence
and observation, out of monuments, names, words, proverbs, traditions,
private records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages of books
that concern not story and the like, do save and recover somewhat from
the deluge of time. In considering the general condition of human know-
ledge and learning in his day he assigned no deficience to antiquities,
" because any deficience in them is but their nature."

Be this however as it may, that which was " antiquities" has here
become " history" through the zeal and disinterested exertions of the
learned author j and the judges, parties and witnesses who figured in
the celebrated case of Scrope and Grosvenor are again before us in all
the reality of a representment,

" Lifeless yet lifelike and awful to sight;"

grim seamed warriors, tried in the wars of " le bon roy Edward tierce
que Dieu assoile," and companions of the Black Prince, youthful
knights and esquires, " per poy de temps armez/' royal dukes and mitred
abbots ! There are —

" Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster —
And Harry Hotspur the all hepraised knight;"

and on the opposite side in this suit his antipodes, the cool, calculating,
fantastic, conceited Glendower,

" The great magician, the damn'd Glendower,"

besides Stanleys, and Breretons, and Courtenays, and Grays, and Cliffords,
and Talbots, and a host of historical names, and with them one belong-
ing to the aristocracy of English genius, whose name blazes like a
beacon in that remote age,

" The morning star of song,
Dan Chancer."

We have them all upon their examinations, princes and earls answering
"parlafoy de chivalerie," and those of inferior degree upon their oaths.

Whether we consider the names of the parties whose depositions were
taken, or of the parties interested, or of the judges in the first or last
resort, the extraordinary constitution of the tribunal, or the curious
subject matter of the controversy, there are few of us who will fail to
find in the perusal of the original record of the case of Scrope and
Grosvenor and the notes appended a wide field for fruitful meditation.
Who will grudge to the author his meed of thanks and commendation,
the just salvage for his rescue of this wreck (once more a trim and
gallant vessel) from the "deluge of time?"

The perusal of the case of Scrope and Grosvenor involves a considera-
tion of the origin, nature and jurisdiction of the once redoubtable tribu-

THE SCROPE AND GROSVEN'OR CONTROVERSY. 145

nal of the constable and marshal. But to what source shall we refer for
authentic materials upon this subject? Dr. Plott's treatise on the Curia
Militaris exists I believe only in its title page and table of contents, the
records of the court are for the most part destroyed, Sir Robert Cotton's
collection (however valuable may be the information that it affords) is
not available but to the laborious student and patient investigator. If we
turn for incidental notice to our books of reports, meagre indeed is the
result ; the questions therein raised respecting the tribunal affect merely
a small branch of its jurisdiction. In this dearth of accessible materials,
the Cottonian MSS. unconsulted from want of time, we have, as autho-
rities for the following resume', been compelled to rest contented with
the case of Lord Rea and Ramsay in our State Trials, with Camden's
disquisitions On the Office of Earl Marshal, a few manuscript treatises
in the Inner Temple Library, and with Dr. Duck's remarks upon the
Curia Militaris contained in the work De Usu et Authoritate Juris Civilis,
termed by Struvius " non inelegans tractatus," and one of those few
treatises written by British lawyers to which foreign jurists condescend
to refer- Dr. Duck's opinions upon this subject may be considered as
peculiarly valuable, for he was appointed by King Charles I. his advocate
in the Court of Chivalry (promotor oausarum regiarum), and was counsel
in the last cause of arms (Lord Reay v. Ramsay) ever brought before that
dreaded tribunal, and in which two other celebrated antiquaries, original
members of the Society of Antiquaries (Selden and Cotton) had been
also consulted. The judges of the Court of Chivalry were the constable
and marshal, invested with equal authority for the decision of causes,
although the marshal alone was intrusted with the execution of the
judgments awarded.* It cannot be affirmed that these offices existed in
the time of the Anglo-Saxon kings ; on the contrary, rather were they
introduced by the Norman princes after the example of the Gauls, who,
anciently in imitation of the Romans, had as far back as the reign of
Charlemagne their constables and marshals strongly resembling, as
French writers themselves attest, the magistri equitum and tribuni
celerum of the Romans. f Be this however as it may, both offices
were ever regarded in this country as of the most exalted nature. That
of constable has been filled by sons, brothers or uncles of our kings,
and finally descended by right of inheritance to the Staffords, dukes of
Buckingham, by whom it was long held until the hereditary office itself
was abolished in the reign of Henry VII., at the death and attainder of
Edward, Duke of Buckingham. The power of the constable was so
great that it became at last an object of suspicion to the crown itself j
and when the chief justice was asked by Henry VIII. as to the degree
of authority possessed by the constable,} he begged to decline the ques-
tion, affirming that the solution belonged to the law of arms and not to
the law of England. From that time the office has rarely been granted
by the sovereigns, and when conferred it has only been for occasional
purposes, § such as coronations or particular trials in which the common
law provided no adequate remedy.

The court derived a considerable accession of pomp and dignity from
the circumstance of the heralds acting as its officers. These were gar-
ter king at arms (especially charged with the forms and ceremonies con-

* Coke, 4 Institvile, c. 17. t Duck.

S 4 Institute, c 17. J Kdw. Rep. Mich. Term. 6 Henry VIII. f. 171.

146 THE SCROPE AXD GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

nected with the illustrious Order of the Garter), Clarencieux king at arms
for the south of England, Norroy king at arms for the northern districts,
and six other inferior heralds or pursuivants. The principal office of the
heralds was to act as messengers of pence and war, to charge themselves
with the settlement of the rank, genealogies and arms of our families,
to marshal the ceremonies attending the coronations of our sovereigns,
and the proceedings upon duels before the constable and marshal, to
arrange the funeral rites of deceased nobles and gentlemen upon occa-
sions of solemnity, besides other duties which devolved upon them by
virtue of their appointment, they were formed into a college and invested
with many privileges by the English kings and exercised their functions
under the authority and jurisdiction of the constable and marshal.

Proceedings. — The authority of the civil law in the court is recognized
by all our books,* and is styled law of the realm, law of the crown,
law of the land.f It is also clear that all suits before that tribunal were
always dealt with by the civil law and the customs of arms, and not by the
common law of England, and accordingly a sentence of death entailed
no forfeiture of land or corruption of blood. \

But since the constable and marshal had other public affairs of impor-
tance to attend to, a doctor or other lawyer of experience versed in the im-
perial jurisprudence was occasionally appointed for life to direct the pro-
.ceedings§; so in the reign of Edward IV.,a learned civilian was made king's
advocate in the same court. || Dr. Duck held a similar office by patent
from Charles I. dated the seventh year of his reign.

All causes proceeded according to the forms prescribed by the civil law,
i.e. libel, or petition ; the witnesses were privately examined j the pleas,
replications and other proceedings observed the forms of the same juris-
prudence, the decrees were in writing, as likewise were the appeaU.
The dignity and supremacy of the court were such that wherever any one
excepted to its jurisdiction, the matter was referred to the lords of the
privy council. Appeals from definitive sentences have for the most part
been made not to the chancellors, but to the kings themselves, who have
thereupon generally nominated as delegates the chief nobles of England
associating with them some doctors of the civil law. All this once and per-
haps still clearly appears by the records of this Court, preserved in the Royal
Archives in the Tower of London, which it has been said frequently fur-
nish readings upon the Roman jurisprudence.^} The court of the con-
stable and marshal had cognisance of crimes committed in lands out of
the realm, of contracts made in foreign parts, and of things that pertain
to war and arms whether within the realm or in foreign parts.**

1. Of Crimes committed on Lands out of the Realm. — Thus where one
Englishman charged another Englishman with the commission of treason
out of England, the proceeding was before the constable and rnarshal,ft

* Fortesc. de Legib. Angl. c. 32 ; Finch in Nomotechn. lib. 4. cap. ; Coke, 1 Inst.
c. 1 ; sec. 3,; and 4 Inst. c. 74.

t Mich. Term, 32 Henry VI. f. 3 ; Pasch Term, 37 Henry VI. Tresp. 8. f. 21 ; Kelw.
Mich. Term, 6 Henry VIII. f. 171 ; Coke, 1 Inst. lib. 1. c. 1, sec. 3 ; and 4 Inst. c. 74.

J Coke, 4 Inst. c. 17.

§ Coke, 4 Inst. c.17. ex par. 2, patent 23 Hen.VI. memb. 20 23. Edw. III. merab. 2.

II Patent 8 Edward IV. memb. 1 ; Coke, 4 Inst. c. 17.

fi Duck De Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. 2, c. 8, part 3, s. 22.
* Duck De Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. 2, cap. 8, part 3, s. 15 ; Reeves' History of
the English Law, 3rd ed. vol. 3, p. 195, 196, vol. 4, p. 303. Stat. 13 Rich. II. stat, 1. c. 2.

ft Coke 1 Institute, lib. 2, cap. 3, sec. 102 ; 37 Henry VI. f. 3.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY 147

and the proof was by witnesses or (by the ancient customs of this court)
by the duel. So where one of the king's subjects killed another subject
in Scotland or elsewhere in foreign parts, neither the courts of common
law here* nor Parliament itself f had jurisdiction j and accordingly when
Francis Drake had put one Dourish to death in America in the 25th
year of Queen Elizabeth, and his brother and next heir claimed justice
at the hands of the queen, the judges having been consulted on the
subject advised her majesty that no proceeding could be instituted with
reference to the offence but before the constable and marshal, J and
weighty reasons deterring her, the queen refused to appoint a constable,
and so the charge fell to the ground. But when, during the reign of
Charles I. A.D. 1632, William Holmes an Englishman had killed with
his sword William Wise another Englishman in Newfoundland, and the
widow petitioned Charles I. to be admitted to an appeal of her husband's
death, the Earl Lindsay was appointed constable for that eole occasion,
and he and the Lord Arundel, Earl Marshal of England, by a definitive
sentence promulgated in the Court of Chivalry in April, 16 3S, condemned
Holmes to death, a fate from which he was only saved by a royal pardon, §
So also where one Englishman inflicted a mortal wound upon another
Englishman in France whereof the latter afterwards died in this country,
he could not be tried at common law, but only in the Court of Chivalry. ||
It is true that, as far as treason committed out of the realm was con-
.cerned, the court ceased to have exclusive jurisdiction by the effect of
several acts afterwards passed, which rendered that crime cognizable
also by the Court of King's Bench or Royal Commissioners.^

2. Of Contracts made in Foreign Parts. — Of these, this court had also
cognizance. Thus, in the reign of Henry IV., one Pountney impleaded
one Burney Knight, before the constable and marshal in.respect of a loan
of £10 made at Bourdeaux in Gascony.** And in the national rolls once
preserved in the Tower of London numerous instances occurred of judg-
ments in this court respecting all kinds of civil contracts made abroad,
especially during the reigns of Edward III., Richard II., Henry IV., Hen-
ry V. and Henry VI., whilst the English crown held Normandy, Aquitaine,
Anjou, and other extensive provinces in France.ff Indeed the notion
prevailed generally amongst us, that the cognizance of contracts made
abroad belonged of right to this tribunal and that of contracts made
within the realm to the courts of common law.^ Originally the Court
of Chivalry must have had exclusive cognizance in the case of such
foreign contracts. In -the process of time, however, the courts of com-
mon law contrived to obtain a concurrent jurisdiction by the fiction
which enabled them to be averred as if made in England. For it has
long been settled in our courts where one Englishman has taken the

* Rot. Parl. 3 Henry VI. memb. 38 ; Stamford, pi. Coronas, 65 ; Coke,'] Inst. lib. 2 ;
cap. 3, sec. 102 ; 4 Inst, c. 17 ; and 2 Inst. ad Magn. Chart, c. 29.

t Stat. 1 Henry IV. c. 14.

£ Coke 1 Inst. lib. 2, cap. 3, sec. 102.

§ Duck, De Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. 2, cap. 8, pars 3, s. 16.

|| Coke, 1 Inst. lib. 2, cap. 3, s. 102, and lib. 3, cap. 13, sec. 745.

t St. 26 Henry VIII. c. 13; 35 Henry VIII. c. 2 ; 5 Ed. VI. c. 11 ; Coke, 4 Inst.
cap. 17.

** Ter. Mich. 13 Hen. IV.

tt Coke 1 Inst. lib. 3, cap. 13, sec. 745, 4 Inst. c. 17 ; Selden ad Fortesc, cap. 32,

tJ Mich. Term, 13 Hen. IV. ; Dalt. 10; Fortesc. de Leg. Angl. c. 32.

148 ' THE SCUOPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

goods of another Englishman or made a contract with him abroad, that
actions may in either respect be supported in the courts of common
law here by a suggestion which the opposite party may not deny, that
the goods were taken or the contracts entered into in some place within
this kingdom. Just as the testaments of Roman citizens captured by
hostile nations were supported by the fictions postlimii and of the lex
Cornelia 3 for when a Roman citizen had become a slave to any hostile
people he at once lost not merely his freedom but all the rights and
privileges of a Roman citizen, so that his will previously made would
have became inoperative, but for the aid of these expedients, for it was
considered that if he returned to his country his testament might be set
up by the fiction (postlimii) which supposed him never to have been
captured or absent from his country, and if on the other hand he died
a captive, by the fiction that he had died before captured, a Roman
citizen. J

The main and essential difference between the English and the civil
law in this respect being, that the expedients in the former case originated
with the lawyers, in the latter with the leg'slative authority j and in the
former, were devised to gain a jurisdiction, in the latter to remedy a de-
fect in legal principle.

3. Of Things that pertain to War and Arms whether within the Realm or
in Foreign Parts. — These constituted another branch of the jurisdiction
of the constable and marshal, who were said to have the sole cognizance
of all controversies arising out of war or arms.* Where an alien
entered England and levied war upon our sovereign he could not for-
merly be proceeded against or punished by the law of England any-
where but in the Court of Chivalry,t wherefore the constable and
marshal were styled keepers of the peace of the realm.

And as order is one of the first principles of a monarchy, and as
order supposes inequalities of ranks and suggests the necessity of
an ordering or marshalling, all that attended the court or the camp
of the sovereign had to be arranged in their proper stations, and these
were regulated by certain armorial bearings or insignia which were worn
either in their own right or in his right whom they served or followed.
The cognizance of all controversies springing out of the user or as-
sumption of these insignia belonged wholly to the Court of Chivalry j
and serious indeed were the quarrels and dissensions to which they gave
rise, when two or more families laid claim to the same arms : sanguin-
ary feuds were often the consequence j this was more especially the
case amongst the feudal nobles of France and Italy.

As an instance of the jealousy that was then felt at anyinferferencewith
armorial ensigns, may be cited the deposition of John Charnels, who
says of Sir William Scrope of Mashani : " Being in garrison during
the old war in a castle, called Quarranteau, he with forty of his com-
rades irade a chivauchee to the castle of Timbre, higher up the
country, designing to take any other castle or to perform some piece of
service in their route. Among them was Sir William Scrope, brother
he believed of Sir Henry Scrope ; and finding the garrison of Geneville,
without the town, and in disorder, Charnels and his comrades attacked

+ Duck de Authoritate Juris Civilis, lib. ii, c. 8 pars 8, s. 18.

* Sta. 13 Richard I., c. 2.

± Finch in Nomotcchn. lib. 4. c. 1.

THE SCROPE AND (5ROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 149

them and made about forty prisoners. A knight, called Sir Philip de
la Monstue, became prisoner to Charnels and because he was armed in
the entire arms of Sir William Scrope, he wished to kill him. Charnels
therefore made his prisoner divest himself of his arms, or Scrope would
certainly have put him to death.'' It may indeed have been that doubts,
which had been raised as to the Scrope right in this particular, had
made the members of the family more than ordinarily sensitive upon
the subject ; and we find several depositions of the Grosvenor witnesses
in which old soldiers somewhat sneeringly insinuate that two law-
yers were the first of the family who had borne the arms ; and it is ex-
pressly stated that at an early period of his life, Sir Richard Scrope
made proposals for the daughter of Sir Robert Hilton ; but the terms
not being accepted, he married a daughter of Sir William de la Pole 5
at which Hilton was so enraged that he said : " I am glad that he did
not marry my daughter, for I have heard that he is not a ' grand gentil
homme/ " To which however Sir John Hasethorpe, then more than an
hundred years old, replied : ' ' Sir, say not so, for I assure you, on my soul,
he is descended from grands gentils hommes from the times of the con-
quest." In addition to this, there were about that time two other rival
claimants to the arms in question, a Carminow and a Grosvenor; even
Sir Richard Scrope's right to bear his crest, a crab issuing from a ducal
crown, had been challenged at Calais forty years before the suit of
Scrope v. Grosvenor, which might render Sir William Scrope still
more tender upon the point.

In Italy political subdivisions, fortunately for the domestic peace of
that country, tended in some measure to keep adverse claimants of simi-
lar arms asunder, so that their animosity could only display itself upon
rare occasions. For the local government would only interfere between
families in the same state ; consequently the ancient Florentine family
of Delia Presa were suffered with impunity to bear the same arms as
the equally ancient Venetian family Cornari, of which descendants are
said to exist in this country under the Anglicised form, Corner. So
the Dandoli of Venice, of whom was

" blind old Dandalo
The octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe,"

and the Giandonati of Florence, houses of almost equal antiquity had
the same heraldic insignia. The same was the case with the Fieschi
of Genoa and the Inbangati of Florence.

The Scotti of Parma bear, we believe, the Douglas arms, but then they
are said to be of the same race.

The same reason which hindered the supreme authority in the differ-
ent states of Italy from interfering where the same arms were borne by
foreign families, weighed, it would seem in influencing the decision of a
cause of arms in which Sir Richard Scrope had been engaged before
his contest with Sir Robert Grosvenor. Sir Richard had been challenged
by an esquire of Cornwall, named Carminow, as to his right to bear tho
arms, azure a bend or, and the dispute was decided by the Duke of
Lancaster, the Earl of Northampton, the constable, and the Earl of
Warwick, the marshal of the army, who adjudged that they might
both bear the said arms entire, on the ground that Carminow was of

150 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

Cornwall which was a large country and was formerly a kingdom, and that
the Scropes had borne them since the conquest.

In this country discussions not seldom arose, which were brought
before the Court of Chivalry : such were the cases of Sir Reginald Grey
de Ruthven and Sir Edward Hastings, Thomas Bawdy and Nicholas
Singleton, and many others which after long litigation and debate were
finally settled either by a judicial sentence of the curia militaris, by an
appeal to the arbitrament of the duel, or to the king himself, as was the
course taken in the most celebrated case of them all, that of Sir Richard
Scrope and Sir Robert Grosvenor.*

The cause of Hastings and Gray de Ruthven, before the consta-
ble and marshal, regarded the right to bear the arms of Hastings, or a
maunch gu. It lasted twenty years and was finally decided against
Hastings, who was condemned in heavy costs and imprisoned sixteen
years for disobeying the judgment of the court.

The cause of Baudy and Singleton respected the right to the arms.

fules three chevronels or, and it is singular enough that Sir Richard
crope was one of the peers commanded by the king (18 Richard II.)
to settle the affair so similar to the one in which he had himself been a
party.

The proceedings in the Scrope and Grosvenor controversy extend from
1385 to 1389, during the whole of which period Thomas of Woodstock,
Duke of Gloucester, youngest son of Edward III., was Lord High
Constable, and Thomas de Mowbray, Earl of Nottingham, subsequently
created Duke of Norfolk, was Earl Marshal, the first who had the title
of earl prefixed to the name of office. It is noted that the high appoint-
ments of Presidents of the Court of Chivalry were assigned to each of
these unfortunate personages on account of female connections, the
latter representing, on the mother's side, the Brotherton branch of the
house of Plantagenet, the former having married the Lady Alianore de
Bohun, one of the daughters and coheirs of Humphrey, last Earl of
Hereford, Essex and Northampton, in whose powerful family the office
of Lord High Constable of England had been hereditary for the two
preceding centuries. The Lady Margaret Plantagenet, Duchess of
Norfolk, grandmother of Lord Mowbray, challenged a right to the office
of Marshal at the coronation of Richard II., and prayed that she might
perform the duties by deputy ; the claim however was not then allowed,
Henry, Lord Percy having been specially appointed to act as Marshal
upon that occasion. The prefix of earl to the subsequent appointment
of her grandson might perhaps be used to obviate any slight to the
Duchess who was then living. Once assumed however it was ever after-
wards retained. This illustrious personage, the Duke of Norfolk, lost by
his hostility to the king's favourite De Vere the favour of the crown,
and subsequently bis life. The Earl Marshal thinking to ingratiate him-
self with King Richard, became one of the main tools of his murderous
designs, a subserviency that did not save himself from subsequent ruin
and destruction consequent upon the denunciation of his own treasonous
language by Henry Duke of Hereford, afterwards Henry IV., of which
so graphic and vivid a picture is drawn by the immortal pen of our great
dramatist : in which Bolingbroke is made to say,

Duck op. cit. lib. 11. c. 8. s< xx.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR COXTROVKRSY. 151

" Now Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well ; for what I speak
My body shall make good upon tl .is earth,
Or my divine soul answer it in Heaven.
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant ;
Too good to be so and too bad to live."

RICHARD II., Act I , Scene I.

In the proceedings in the case of Scrope and Grosvenor, however,
Thomas of Gloucester took the principal share, and the Earl Marshal
seems not to have been present upon any of the occasions, but to have been
represented by his deputy (Lieutenant) Johan de Multon ; the commissions
to examine witnesses run in the name of the constable alone, and it
is noteworthy that the writs in the appeal are not from the sentence of
the Court of Chivalry, nor from the joint judgment of the constable
and the marshal, but from that of the constable alone.* And yet Dr.
Duckf tells us that the " conestabilis et marescallus Angliae pari potestate
in causis pronunciant." But it is manifest from the history of the Court
of Chivalry and from royal reluctance to revive the office, that if, to use
Sir Edward Coke's language, the Lord High Admiral was the Neptune
of our courts, the Lord High Constable was the Mars j and the equality of
jurisdiction assumed by the Marshal was perhaps not prior to the 20th
Rich. II., when he was first named in the King's Patent Earl (comes
rnarescallus.) The terms of the stat. 13 Rich. II., stat. 1, c. 2, seem
also to favour the superior authority of the constable, "To the con-
stable" it says, " belongs the cognizance of contracts touching deeds of
arms," &c., and yet in a subsequent clause it permits a privy seal to
issue to the constable and marshal to surcease certain pleas,

Thomas of Woodstock would seem to have been the first recognised
head of the Court of Chivalry who took any great or active part in
giving a regular and legal form to its proceedings j and there are extant
in the libraries of Lincoln's Inn, and of the Inner Temple, copies of a
book dedicated and presented by Thomas Fitz au Roy, Duke of Glou-
cester to his cousin, King Richard, containing ordinances regulating trial
by battle.}

The ancient Norman house of Scrob, Scroby, Lescrope or Scrope,
which subsequently became severed in the kindred branches of the
Scropes of Bolton, and of Masham, acted a conspicuous part in almost all
the great occurrences of British history, from the reign of Edward II.
to the First Charles, during which period it has been observed that the
family produced two earls, and twenty barons, one chancellor, four
treasurers, and two chief justices of England, five knights of the garter
and numerous bannerets, the highest military order in the days of
chivalry. Even at an earlier period the family had been one of station

* Sciatis quod cum constabularius noster Anglicc in quadam causa cle et super armis
de azura cum una benda de auro inter Ric. Le Scropum militem partem actricem ex
parte una et Robertum Grosvenour partem defendentem ex altera parte in curia
nostra militari mota et pendente procedens quandam sentendam definitivam injustam
ut asseritur tulisset, $c. vol. i. p. 11, and p. 354, 356.

t Op. cit. lib. ii., cap. 8, s. xiii.

J Lincoln's Inn Library MSS., Sir Thomas Hale, vol. xi. pi. 6. The ordinances
of Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, constable of England, touching battails armed within
lists, with an historical and legal commentary. Inner Temple Library MSS. the
same, with a comment by Sir John Burgh, Knight, and proceedings upon an appeal of
treason before the constable and marshal in a court military.

VOL. IV NO. XIV, N

152 THE SCROPJS AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

and consideration, and if a chronicle can be relied on, and the evidence of
the Prior of Bardeney and Welton, (one of the deponents in favour of
Scrope) can be esteemed sufficient identifications, its original founder
was a Norman settled in this country in the time of Edward the Con-
fessor, and as a favourite with that monarch, excepted out of the general
proscription, which it seems, drove for a time all Normans from the realm
to which, not long afterwards, they were to give laws. But be this how
it may, and the coincidence of name and proximity of estates counte-
nance the position, certain it nevertheless is that for its peculiar splen-
dour the Scropes, like many noble families of more recent date, were in-
debted to the profession of the law. Sir Henry le Scrope, eldest son
of Sir William le Scrope, according to the deposition of Sir William
A ton, was with the assent of his relatives put to the law, mys al le ley, and
was made a judge of the Court of King's Bench, 27 Nov. 1308, 2 Edward
II. ; he afterwards became the chief justice. He was a knight banneret,
and is so named in a roll of arms compiled between the 2 and 7 Edward
II,, which describes his bearings as azure a bend or, charged in the upper
part of the bend, with a lion passant purpure. The Prior of Gisburgh, (Sir
Harris Nicolas says the Abbot of Coverham, a slight inaccuracy,) deposed
that the lion was introduced into the bend in consequence of a grant to
one of the Scropes for the term of his life by the Earl of Lincoln, a
mode of marking affection and friendship by no means unusual at that
early period, although it was afterwards considered that as honours could
alone emanate from the crown, royal assent was essential to the validity
of any such grants j so the devise of his arms by Lord D'Eincourt was
questioned, according to Sir Edward Coke, in the House of Lords. How-
ever Selden and Camden have alluded to the practice, and Cheshire
historians have commented upon the frequency of the garb in the bear-
ing of families of that county which was assumed as a mark of respect
for or connection with the Earls of Cheshire.

By far the most illustrious member of the house of Scrope, of Bolton,
was however Sir Richard, the plaintiff in this suit of arms, who appears
to have been conspicuous for the rare union of the qualities essential to
the judge, the statesman and the warrior. Present in the battles of
Cressy, Durham, Najarra, the friend and comrade-in-arms of the most
eminent noblemen of the time, he rilled amongst other high offices, those
of treasurer, steward of the king's household, and lord high chancellor.
He appears to have been honoured by the respect and confidence of
those sovereigns. John of Gaunt was his especial patron ; the Black
Prince presented him with a covered tankard: a sword of Edward III.
(probably also a gift from the monarch) Sir Richard bequeathed by his
will to his son Stephen; Richard II. heaped dignities upon him and
his family, and we find Henry IV. in the first year of his reign protesting
" that he then considered him, and had always deemed him, a loyal
knight."

The termination of his long and eventful career was embittered by
the downfall of his eldest son the Earl of Wilts, who fell a sacrifice to
the cause of the dethroned monarch whose favorite he had been. " Few
incidents," says Sir H. Nicolas, " can be imagined of a more affect-
ing description than the scene in Parliament, when the attainder of
the Earl of Wiltshire was confirmed. Rising from his seat, his eyes
streaming with tears; the venerable peer implored that the proceedings
might not affect the inheritance of himself or his children, and after

SWEDISH BALLADS. 153

admitting the justice of the sentence, and deploring the conduct of his
son, the unhappy father was consoled by his sovereign, who deigned to
assure him thai neither his interests nor those of his children then living
should suffer from it, for that he had always considered, and still deemed
him a loyal knight.''

Such was Sir Richard Scrope at the close of his long career, in his
seventy-third year. Such was the man backed by ability, wealth, station,
warlike and civil repute, powerful partizans, royal friends and kingly fa-
vour, with whom, in the ripe maturity of his life, Sir Robert Grosvenor,
head of a family little at that period known out of his own country, had
the hardihood to contend in a cause of arms, where the chief judge was
his antagonist's friend. Could the issue be doubtful ?

(To be continued}.

SWEDISH BALLADS,

BY EDWARD KENEALY.

NECKEN.

NECKEN han gangar pa snohvitan sand ;

Vaker upp alia redlige drangar ! —
Sa skapar han sig till en valdiger man.

De unga hafva sofvit tiden allt for Idnge.

Och Nccken han gangar sig till skraddaregard,
Der later han gora sig den Kladningen bla.

Sa gangar han sig allt upp under 6,
Der dansar sa mangen utvalder mo.

Necken han trader i dansen in,

De Jungfruer rodna och blekna pa kind.

Och Necken han drager det roda gullband,
Det faller sa val uti Jungfruen's hand.
Och hb'r du, skon Jungfru, havad jag saga ma ;
Om sondag sku'vi motas, allt uppa Kyrkogard.

Och Jungfrun hon skulle till Kyrkan fara,
Och Hallfast han skulle hennes Koresven vara.

Tommar af silke och selen af gull ;
Kara du Hallfast, du Kor int' omkull !

Jungfrun hon aker till Kyrkan fram,
Och der moter hon sin fasteman.

Necken han rider till Kyrkan fram,
Han haktar sitt betsel pa Kyrkokam.

Necken han ganger i Kyrkan in,

Och radios ar Jungfrun for fasteman sin.

Priisten han framfor altaret staor ;
Hvad ar-fb'r en man, pa gangen der star ?
Havr ar du fodder och hvar ar du buren ?
Eller hvar hafver du dina klader val skuren,

154 SWEDISH BALLADS.

I hafvet, der iir jag bad fodder och buren,
Och der hafver jag mina kofklader skuren.

Och folket gich ut och skyndale hem,

Och bruden hon stod qvar med Brudgummen an.

Och hvar liar du Fader och hvar har du Moder ?
Och hvar har du vanner och hvar har du frander ?

Min Fader och Moder a' boljorna bla ;
Mina vanner och frander a' stickor och stra.

Och det ar sa svart uti hafvet att bo ;
Der aro sa manga, som ofver oss ro.

Ja, det ar sa svart uti hafvet att vara ;
Der aro sa manga som ofver oss fara.

Necken tog Jungfrun i fager gulan lock,
Sa band han henne vid sin sadelaknapp.

Och Jungfrun hon ropa' sa sorgeligt rop,
Det hordes sa vida till Konungens gard.

De sokte den Jungfrun allt ofver bro ;
Der funno de hennes gullspanda skor.

De sokte den Jungfrun allt upp efter fors,
Der funno de hennes linosa kropp.

THE NECKEN.

The Necken he walks on the sea- strand so white,

Wake ye my merrie men up from sleep,
And he changes his shape to a gallant young knight,

Too long has the youth lain in slumber deep.

And into the tailor's house quickly he hies,
And dons him in robes of the finest blue dyes.

Then the Necken goes off to the far Isle away,
Where the lovely young villagers dance all the day.

He joins in the dance, and so gracefully moves,
Every maid as she looks on him feels that she loves.

And the Necken he takes up the shining gold band,
It becometh so sweetly the fair maiden's hand.

And hearken, fair maid, what I say unto thee,

In the churchyard, next Sunday, our meeting shall be.

Away to the church doth the fair maiden ride,
And Hailfast the driver he sat by her side.

The bridle was silk, and the shafts were of gold,
And Hailfast the driver was skilful and bold.

The Maid in her white wedding garment is cloth'd,
And she enters the church, and she meets her betroth'd.

The Necken he rode to the church tower so grey,
And he fastened his steed to the ancient church key.

SWEDISH BALLADS. 155

And the Necken passed down thro' the old pillar'd aisles
And the fair maiden met him with tears and with smiles.

The priest at the altar with smooth solemn brow

Marks the air of the stranger — Sir Knight who art thou ?

Where wert thou begotten and where wert thou born ?
Where got thou the robes that thy person adorn ?

And I was begotten and born, quoth he,

And mine, only mine, are the robes that you see.

Away to their homes are the villagers gone,
The Bride with the Bridegroom remaineth alone.

Thy father, thy mother, thy brother, thy friends ?
Where be they ? — I fear what thy silence portends.

My father and mother the blue billows be,

And my friends are the wild sedge that grows by the sea.

O God ! must I dwell in the wild waves below
While the blithe- hearted fisherman over us row ?

Yes — yes — in the billows so cold and so pale,
While the seamen so joyously over us sail.

The Necken took hold of her sweet yellow hair,
He bound to his saddle the maiden so fair.

And loudly she shrieked, and the heart-broken wail
Was born o'er the land on the wings of the gale.

They sought the fair maid in the highways all round,
And nought but her gold-buckled slippers they found.

They sought the fair maid in the waterfalls dark —
They found her — a corpse, pallid, withered, and stark.

LINDEN.

Och Jungfrun hon gangar i rosendelund,
Der fick hon se standande sa fager en Lind.

Den allri'n'gm sorg fordrefva kunde.

" Har standar du Lind sa fager du aj,
Med forgyllande blader, som du ocksa bar.''

" Det ar val inte at att du sa rosar mig,
For lyckan ar battre for dig an for mig.

I morgon komma friare, som fria till dig ;

Och da komma timmerman, som skada uppa mig.

Sa hugga de mig till en Altarespang,

Der mangen grofver syndare skall hafva sin gang.

" Sa hugga de mig till ett Altaretia,

Des mangen grofver syndare skall falla pa kn'a."

" Och ka'ra du Lind, emedan du kan tala ;
Aer ingen i verlden till som dig kan hugsvala ?

Och ingen ar i verlden som mig kan hugsvala j
Forutan Kung Magnus, den jag aldrig med far tala.

156 SWEDISH BALLADS.

Och Jungfrun hon satte sig neder att skrifva ;
Ack ! hade jag nagon, sorn det brefvet kunde fora.

Shax kom det der fram en falk sa gra ;

Jag for val det bref till Kung Magnus's gard

Och Falken tog brefvet allt i sina klor,

Sa latt flyger han dit Kung Magnus han bor.

Kung Magnus tog brefvet ur Falkens klor,
Sa hateliz liiste han hvart endaste ord.

,Kung Magnus han talte till tjenarena sa,
J sadlen mig strax upp gangaren gra.

J sadlen mig strax upp rinnaren rod,

For jag skall rid' och fralsa min stackers fastemo.

Kung Magnus han satte sig pa rinnaren rod,
Sa red han litet fortare an falken han flog.

Kung Magnus foil nod allt uppa sina kna,
Sa Kystte han den Jungfrun i Lindetr'ad.

Kung Magnus foil ned f6r Jungfruns fot,
Sa kyoste han henne pa Linderot.

Kung Magnus tog Linden allt uti sin famn,
Sa fager en Jungfrun af henne upprann.

Kung Magnus lyfte Jungfrun pa gangaren gra,
Sao red han med henne allt uppa sin gard.
Kung Magnus han satte den Jungfrun pa sitt knii,
Och guf'na gullkronan och fastningen med.

THE LINDEN.

And the maiden she walks where the red roses blow,
There sees she a Linden most beauteously grow.

Oh ! there's no one to cure me of sadness.

Here standest thou, Linden tree, blooming and fair,

With the gold-gleaming leaves which thy bright branches bear.

Oh ! there's, 8fC.

Ah ! maiden, sweet maiden, why praise ye me so ?
For thou art most happy, while I am in woe.

To-morrow come suitors to claim thy white hand ;
To-morrow come woodmen my life to demand.

They will hew me to pieces to make them a stairs
To the altar, where sinners gasp sorrowful prayers.

They will hew me to pieces to make them a shrine,
Where penitents kneeling seek mercy divine.

O Linden, dear Linden, and since thou canst speak,

Is there none on this broad earth whose aid thou wouldst seek ?

Oh ! there's none on this broad earth whose aid I could seek
But King Magnus, with whom I can ne'er hope to speak.

And the maiden sat down, and a letter she penn'd, —
Oh ! had I to bear it some trustworthy friend !

THE EMIGRANT. 157

When straight there came flying a falcon so grey ;—
To the halls of King Magnus I'll bear it to-day.

Then away with the letter the grey falcon flew,
Till the halls of King Magnus rose up on his view.

The King took the letter and hastily read,
And his cheeks grew as pale and as cold as the dead.
Then out spake King Magnus — Up, saddle my steed
With the grey flowing mane and the fetlocks of speed.
The red-coated courser, quick, saddle for me,
Away, and away, till my true love is free.
King Magnus leaped up on his courser so red,
And fleeter by far than the falcon he fled.

King Magnus he came, and he fell on his knee,
And kiss'd the young maid in the fair linden tree.
King Magnus knelt down at the light maiden's foot,
And kiss'd her again in the linden tree's root.

Then the King to his heart the fair linden tree press'd,
And a Virgin most beautiful blush' d on his breast.
The King rais'd the Virgin upon his grey steed,
And bore her away to his castle with speed.

And she sat in her state on the knee of the King,
With a crown of red gold, and a gold wedding ring.

THE EMIGRANT.

One evening from a rocky height

I watched the sunbeams' parting light

Lingering o'er the distant sea,

Which then lay slumb'ring tranquilly ;

So calm the hour that on, her breast

The breeze had sigh'd itself1 to rest,

And all around was stillness, save

The murm'ring of the ebbing wave.

Brightly had shone the summer's day $

In golden clouds it passed away ;

When evening mild, with sombre hue,

Shed on the scene soft tears of dew,

In pity to the lovely flowers

Which droop'd beneath those sultry hours.

Soon night's fair queen rose o'er the ma;n

Attended by her starry train,

A distant sail then caught my sight ;

Its outline in the pale moonlight

158 THE EMIGRANT.

Reveal'd its purpos'd destiny ;

Twas bound to plough a foreign sea.

Strolling that morning on the strand,

I saw a boat put off the land

To join that vessel in the bay

Which for some time at anchor lay,

Crowded with emigrants. To sail,

She waited but a favoring gale ;

And while I gaz'd upon its form,

Soon doom'd perhaps to brave the storm,

I thought of that poor boy on deck,

Who clung around his mother's neck

So tenderly, at morning tide

While parting from the vessel's side :

She press'd him to her widow'd breast

Where he had often lull'd to rest.

She held him in a parting fold

To her sad heart, whose pulse was cold,

For he who warm'd it with his smile

Might ne'er again its care beguile.

She wildly kissed his youthful brow

And call'd on Heav'n by pray'r and vow

To take her William to its care

And guard him safe from every snare.

The boat appear'd all ready mann'd,

Its oars were striking off the land,

The youth upon his mother cast

One parting look ; it was his last.

A moment, and the bark was gone,

The wretched parent stood alone,

'Tis thus that many an Irish heart

Is doom'd with all it loves to part —

To leave that darling land of care,

Or stay and break, and perish there.

M. D.

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

ANCESTRY OF LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

His lordship is second surviving son of the present Duke of Portland. His
mother Henrietta, eldest daughter of the well-known General Scott, of
Balcomie, in Fifeshire, derived, in the female line, from the families of the
famous Scottish worthies, Balliol and Wallace. General Scott was of
very eccentric notions. By his will, he prohibited any one of his daughters
from marrying a nobleman ; and provided that disobedience on this point
should entail a forfeiture of the testamentary bequest. Despite, however,
of this injunction, the three ladies, all became in the sequel peeresses, and
by an arrangement amongst themselves preserved their fortunes : the
eldest, who succeeded to the chief portion of her father's great wealth, mar-
ried the Duke of Portland ; the second, became the wife of Francis, Lord
Doune ; and the third, the widow of the Right Hon. George Canning, was
elevated to the peerage in her own right, at the lamented decease of her dis-
tinguished husband. Under the guidance of that illustrious statesman, who
was thus his uncle by marriage, Lord George Bentinck first entered on public
life ; but he did not long continue at that period to devote himself to political
pursuits. The attractions of the turf engrossed his attention, and it was
not until the great struggle that preceded the abolition of the corn laws that
he gained the leading position he now holds in the parliamentary arena.

Lord George Bentinck was born 27th Feb. 1802, and is unmarried. He
has sat in the House of Commons as member for Lynn Regis, in the represen-
tation of which borough he succeeded his uncle, Lord William Bentinck.
The ducal house of which his lordship is a scion, was founded by William
Bentinck, a Dutch noble, who enjoyed in an eminent degree the favour of
King William III., and was created by his majesty Earl of Portland in 1689.
His lordship had the command of the Dutch regiment of Horse Guards, and
took a distinguished part, as Lieutenant- General, at the battle of Boyne.
He was subsequently invested with the Order of the Garter, and at length
died in 1709, leaving a large family: the eldest son Henry, second Earl,
obtained in 1716, the highest grade in the peerage, being elevated to the
Dukedom of Portland and Marquesate of Tichfield. His Grace died in
Jamaica, of which he was Captain- General and Governor, 4th July 1726,
leaving, with other issue, a son and successor, WILLIAM second Duke, K.G.,
who added considerably to his fortune and influence, by marrying the Lady
Margaret Cavendish Harley, only daughter and heir of Edward, second £arl
of Oxford, by Lady Henrietta Cavendish Holies, his wife, only daughter
and heir of John, first Duke of Newcastle. The paternal grandfather of this
richly portioned heiress, Robert Harley, was the illustrious minister of the
reign of Queen Anne, and her maternal grandfather, the Duke of Newcastle
had the reputation of being one of the richest subjects in the kingdom.
From him has descended to the present Duke of Portland Welbeck Abbey,
Notts, together with the valuable property of Cavendish Square, Holies
Street, and its neighbourhood, so productive at the present day.

The son and heir of the marriage of the second Duke of Portland with
the heiress of the Harleys, the Holies' and the Cavendishes, was William-
Henry, third Duke, K.G., who filled the dignified office of Viceroy of Ire-

160 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

land in 1782, and was twice Prime Minister. He wedded Dorothy, only
daughter of William, fourth Duke of Devonshire, and dying in 1809, was
succeeded by his eldest son, William- Henry Cavendish, the present chief of
the ducal house of Portland.

THE HOUSE OF O'CONOR.

OUR obituary of this month records the death of the O'CoNoa DON, a
gentleman universally esteemed and beloved, in whom vested the represen-
tation of the ancient monarchs of Ireland. From the remotest period, his
ancestors were Kings of Connaught, and in the twelfth century they became
Sovereigns of all Ireland. Tordhellach O'Conor, who ascended the throne
in 1 136, reigned twenty years, and died in 1156, leaving two sons, RODE-
RICK the last monarch of Ireland, and CATHAL Croibh-dearg, or Cathal, of
the Red Hand. Roderick's history is well known. In 1175, his Chancellor
Lawrence O'Toole signed the Treaty of Windsor with King Henry II. of
England, wherein Roderick resigned the supreme monarchy but reserved
to himself Connaught as an independent kingdom. The treaty may be
seen in Rymer's Fcedera. From Roderick's brother, Cathal, descended
in a direct line, the late O'Conor Don. The singular title of "Don," so
constantly used by the successive chiefs of the house, is variously explained.
Some derive it from Tirlagh O'Conor, living temp. Richard II., who was
surnamed Don, or the dark, while others carry up its adoption to the time of
the invasion of Ireland, under Prince Don, the son of Milesius. Certain it
is that for centuries, it has been the invariable designation of the head of the
O' Conors ; and was home as such by the late O'Conor Don. Of the
princely heritage that erst belonged to his royal ancestors, a small tract
alone remained. Spoliation and persecution — the result of loyalty to the
king, and devotion to the ancient faith — gave the final blow to the power of
this illustrious house. Major Owen O Conor, of Belanagare, governor of
Athlone for James II., was taken prisoner by William of Orange, and con-
fined in the Castle of Chester, where he died in 1692, and his nephew and
eventual heir Denis O'Conor of Belanagare, was involved in the troubles and
misfortunes which seemed at that period, the common inheritance of all who
professed the Catholic religion. Suits were instituted for the sequestration
of his paternal estates, and he was happy to preserve a portion by the sacri-
fice of the rest. Though thus left but a small fragment of the once broad
domains of his forefathers — domains, which were [guaranteed by several
solemn and indisputable treaties, — he was still the supporter of all, whose
virtues or distresses had a claim upon his bounty. The traditions of the
country attest his unostentatious benevolence and hospitality, and the effu-
sions of the bards record the virtues of his character. At Belanagare, it
was that Carolan composed the most impassioned of his melodies, and felt
the true poetic inspiration. " I think," said the bard on one occasion,
" that when I am among the% O'Conors, the harp has the old sound in it."
Denis O'Conor's son and successor, CHARLES O'CONOR, of Belanagare, a
learned antiquary, early devoted Lis attention to elucidating the history of
his country, and unfolding the long neglected records of her people ; and
collected, with indefatigable research and labour, the most valuable in-
formation regarding the annals and antiquities of Ireland. He also took a
prominent place amongst those who first struggled for Catholic Emancipation.
Of his grandsons, the eldest OWEN O'CONOR, of Belanagare, succeeded to
the title of Don as head of the family at the decease of his kinsman Alex-

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 161

ander, O' Conor Don in 1820; and the second, Charles O'Conor, D.D.,
chaplain at Stowe, was the erudite author of " Rerum Hibernicarum Scrip-
tores," " Columbanus's Letters," &c. The former, Owen O'Conor Don,
was father of the respected gentleman, whose decease has given rise to the
foregoing remarks.

EDWARD SIXTH LORD DIGBY.

Oh ! Charity ! our helpless nature's pride,
Thou friend to him who knows no friend beside,
Is there in morning's breath, or the sweet gale
That steals o'er the tired pilgrim of the vale,
Cheering with fragrance fresh his weary frame,
Aught like the incense of thy holy frame ?
Is aught in all the beauties that adorn
The azure heaven, or purple lights of morn ?
Is aught so fair in evening's lingering gleam,
As from thine eye the meek and pensive beam
That falls like saddest moonlight on the hill
And distant grove, when the wide world is still ?
Thine are the ample views, that unconfined
Stretch to the utmost walks of human kind :
Thine is the Spirit, that with widest plan
Brother to brother binds, and man to man.

Among the many illustrious families of which our nobility is composed,
that of Digby deserves a prominent position. In the reign of the first Charles,
one of its descendants, the renowned Sir Kenelm, "the ornament of Eng-
land," rendered the name famous throughout the Christian world, and, at
all times, we may trace, in the pages of history, honourable mention of this
eminent house. Edward, sixth Lord Digby, to whom the following interest-
ing narrative refers, was son of the Hon. Edward Digby by Charlotte, his
wife, sister of Henry, Lord Holland, (father of Charles James Fox), and
succeeded to the peerage at the decease of his grandfather in 1752, being
then just of age. The excellence of his disposition and the kindness of
his heart won for him universal esteem ; and few events were more deeply
deplored than his untimely death. Of his active benevolence, a gentleman,
who enjoyed his lordship's regard and friendship, has left the following
anecdote on record : —

"Lord Digby came often to Parliament Street, and I could not help
remarking a a singular alteration in his dress and demeanour, which took
place during the great festivals. At Christmas and Easter he was more
than usually grave, and then always had on an old shabby blue coat. I
was led, as well as many others, to conclude that it was some affair of the
heart which caused this periodical singularity. Mr. Fox, his uncle, who had
great curiosity, wished much to find out his nephew's motive for appearing
at times in this manner, as in general he was esteemed more than a well
dressed man. On his expressing an inclination for this purpose, Major
Vaughan and another gentleman undertook to watch his lordship's motions.
They accordingly set out ; and observing him to go to St. George's Fields,
they followed him at a distance, till they lost sight of him near the Marshal-
sea Prison. Wondering what could carry a person of his lordship's rank
and fortune to such a place, they enquired of the turnkey if such a gentle-
man (describing Lord D.) had not entered the prison ? " Yes, Masters,"
exclaimed the fellow, with an oath, " but he is uot a man, he is an angel ;

1 G2 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

for he comes here twice a year, sometimes oftener, and sets a number of
prisoners free. And he not only does this, but he gives them sufficient to
support themselves and their families till they can find employment. " This,"
continued the man, " is one of his extraordinary visits. He has but a few
to take out to day." — " Do you know who the gentleman is ?" enquired the
major. " We none of us know him by any other marks/' replied the man,
" but by his humanity and his blue coat."

One of the gentleman could not resist the desire of making some further
enquiries relative to the occurrence from which he reaped so much satisfac-
tion. The next time, accordingly, his lordship had his alms- giving coat on,
he asked him what occasioned his wearing that singular dress ? With a
smile of great sweetness, his lordship told him that his curiosity should soon
be gratified, for as they were congenial souls, he would take him with him
when he next visited the place to which his coat was adapted. One morning
shortly after, his lordship accordingly requested the gentleman to accompany
him on a visit to that receptacle of misery which his lordship had so often
explored, to the consolation of its inhabitants. His lordship would not
uffer his companion to enter the gate, lest the hideousness of the place
should prove disagreeable to him ; but he ordered the coachman to drive to
the George Inn in the Borough, where a dinner was ordered for the happy
individuals he was about to liberate. Here the gentleman had the pleasure
of seeing nearly thirty persons rescued from the jaws of a loathsome prison,
at the inclement season of the year, being in the midst of winter, and not
only released from their confinement, but restored to their families and
friends, with some provision from his lordship's bounty for their immediate
support.

Lord Digby went, some few months after these beneficent acts, to visit his
estates in Ireland, where he caught a putrid fever, of which he died in the
dawn of life, November 30, 1757.

Well may we add with the poet ; —

O ye, who list to Pleasure's vacant song,
As in her silken train ye troop along ;
Who, like rank cowards from affliction fly,
Or, whilst the precious hours of life pass by,
Lie slumbering in the sun ! — Awake, arise —
To these instructive pictures turn your eyes,
The awful view with other feelings scan,
And learn from Digby what man owes to man !

His Lordship died unmarried and was succeeded in his honour and estates
jy his brother Henry, father of the present Earl Digby.

THE VEIL OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

THIS Veil, said to be that with which the unfortunate Maiy covered her
head on the scaffold, after the executioner — whether from awkwardness or
confusion is uncertain — had wounded the unhappy victim in the shoulder
by a false blow still exists ; and is still, we believe, in the possession of Sir
John Stuart Hippisley, Bart., whose father, Sir John Cox Hippisley, had an
engraving made from it, by Matteo Dioltavi, in Rome, 1818, and gave
copies to his friends.

The Veil is embroidered with gold spangles by (as it is said) the Queen's
own hand, in regular rows, crossing each other, so as to form small ^squares,

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 163

and edged with a gold border, to which another border has been subsequently
joined, in which the following words are embroidered in letters of gold —

" Velum Serenissimse Marise, Scotise et Gallise Reginse Martyris, quo
induebatur dum ab Heretica ad mortem injustissimam condemnata fuit :
Anno Sal. MDLXXXVI. a nobilissima matrona Anglicana diu conservatum
et tandem, donationis ergo Deo et Societati Jesu Consecratum."

On the plate there is an inscription, with a double certificate of its authen-
ticity, which states that this Veil, a family treasure of the expelled house of
Stuart, was finally in possession of.the last male representative of that Royal
House, the Cardinal of York, who preserved it for many years in his private
Chapel, among the most precious relics, and at his death bequeathed it to
Sir J. C. Hippisley, together with a valuable Plutarch, and a codex with
painted (illuminated) letters, and a gold coin struck in Scotland in the reign of
Queen Mary ; and it was especially consecrated by Pope Pius VII. in his
Palace on the Quirinal, April 29th, 1818.

Sir J. C. Hippisley during a former residence at Rome, had been very intimate
with the Cardinal of York, and was instrumental in obtaining for him, when
he with the other Cardinals emigrated to Venice in 1 798, a pension of £4,000
a year from the Prince of Wales (afterwards George the Fourth) ; but for
which, the fugitive Cardinal, all whose revenues were seized by the French,
would have been exposed to the greatest distress. The Cardinal desired to
requite this service by the bequest of what he considered so valuable.

According to a note on the plate, the Veil is eighty-nine inches long,
(English) and forty-three broad, so that it seems to have been rather a kind
of shawl or scarf than a Veil. If we remember rightly, Melville in his
Memoirs, which Schiller had read, speaks of a handkerchief belonging to
the Queen, which she gave away before her death, and Schiller founds upon
this anecdote the well-known words of the farewell scene, addressed to
Hannah Kennedy.

" Accept this handkerchief ! with my own hand
For thee I've work'd it in my hours of sadness
And interwoven with my scalding tears :
With this thoul't bind my eyes."

Sir John S. Hippisley descends from John Hippisley, Esq. of Yattan,
Recorder of Bristol in the reign of Edward VI., of a different family, we
apprehend, from that of Camley, from which spring the Hippisleys of Stone-
Easton, co. Somerset, the Hippisleys of Lamborne, Berks, and the Hippis-
leys of Stanton, Wilts. ROBERT HIPPISLEY TRENCHARD, ESQ., the late
representative of the Stanton branch, married twice : by his first wife he
had a son, who d. s.p. and a dau. : Ellen m. 1st to John Ashfordby, Esq.,
and 2ndly to John Long, Esq. of Preshaw : and by his second, he left a
son, Gustavus Mathias Hippisley, Esq., who m. Ellen, dau. of Thomas
Fitzgerald, Knight of Glin, and died in 1831, leaving issue, 1st, Gustavus
Alexander Butler Hippisley ; 2nd, Robert Fitzgerald Hippisley, Lieut. R.N.
d. unm. ; 3rd, Charles James Hippisley, Lieut. R.N. ; 4th, Augustus John
Hippisley; 1st, Ellen Georgiana : and 2nd, Jane Augusta, m. to W.J. Richard-
son, Esq.

THE OPERA.

JENNY LIND continues her career of unparalleled success at Her Majesty's
Theatre, and of course the house is still crowded night after night to suffo-
cation ; thus, too, we think it would be, were the enchantress to remain for
months and months to come. So powerful has been the attraction that no
other place of dramatic entertainment in London has been able to make way
except the French Theatre, which the genius of Rachel has now rendered
great in public favour. This proves how true it is that talent — real, indispu-
table, surpassing talent, of whatever character or clime, is sure to reign tri-
umphant over the mind of this mighty metropolis. We shall speak further
of Rachel immediately ; we now return to Jenny Lind. Her newest and
latest wonder has been her performance in Verdi's opera composed expressly
for her Majesty's Theatre, entitled " I Masnadieri." This lyric production
was represented for the first time on the evening of Thursday the 22nd
July, and met with complete success. Verdi himself conducted the orches-
tra, and his presence was hailed with rapturous applause.

" I Masnadieri," as its title infers, is a brigand story, and is founded on
the Robbers of Schiller, the plot of which, the Italian libretto closely and
cleverly follows. The cast of the principal characters is this :

Carlo Moor Gardoni.

Francesco Moor Coletti.

Massimiliano Moor Lablache.

Moser Bouche.

Arminio Corelli.

Amalia Jenny Lind.

The Times has given so remarkably clear and curiously elaborate an ac-
count of the course of the incidents and music in "I Masnadieri' that we
cannot do better than extract it here.

" The opera" says the critic of the Times " commences with an instru-
mental prelude in which there is a violoncello solo. The curtain rises and
discovers Carlo in a tavern on the confines of Saxony. He is reading Plu-
tarch, and expresses his disgust at the degeneracy of his own age, in a re-
citative imitated from the same situation in Schiller. At this time he has
written home for his father's forgiveness, and expresses in a tender cavatina
(" Oh mio Castel Paterno'') accompanied by the wind instruments, the joy
he anticipates from revisiting the place of his birth. The troop of his com-
rades enter with a letter, which contains a refusal of the pardon. On be-
holding Carlo's despair, they agree to form a troop of robbers and elect him
for their leader. The scene terminates with Carlo's caballetta, in which he
vents his rage and despair, and is joined by the chorus. We are now re-
moved to the castle of the Moor family, and find Francesco, the younger
son, expressing his impatience at his father's long life now he has got rid of
his elder brother. He sings an aria with violoncello accompaniments, fol-
lowed by a spirited cabaletta, after he has plotted with Arminio (Italian for
" Herman,") that the latter shall disguise himself as a soldier, and make
a false statement of Carlo's death. The chamber of the old Count Massi-
miliano Moor is then discovered. He is sleeping, and his niece Amalia, the
betrothed of Carlo, is watching. After a prelude of flute, oboe, and clari-
onet and a recitative accompanied by these instruments, comes a light cava •

THE OPERA. 165

tina by Amalia, " Lo aguardo avea," the words of which are taken from
Schiller's Schon ure Engel. This is followed by a duet between Amalia and
the older Moor ; and the act terminates with a quartet, consequent upon the
entrance of Francesco and Arminio with the news of Carlo's death. The parts
taken by the several personages indicate their various characters ; and the
orchestral accompaniments are so distributed as to illustrate the different
passions. The act drops upon the apparent death of the count, who is over-
come with grief at the melancholy news. These incidents in the castle be-
long to Schiller's act.

" The opening portion of the second act of the opera is taken from Schil-
ler's third, with considerable alteration. The first scene represents an en-
closure near the castle chapel, where Amalia approaches the tomb of old
Moor. A chorus behind the door indicates the joy of Francesco on suc-
ceeding to his father's estate, while Amalia, on the stage sings an aria, the
adagio of which is accompanied by the harp solo, and is followed by a bril-
liant cabaletta, introduced by the news, brought by Arminio, that Carlo still
lives. Then comes the offer of love by Francesco, and his rejection of
Amelia, which forms the subject of a duet. A scene in the forest follows.
It opens with the incidents connected with the rescue of Rolla, one of the
band, and the destruction of Prague, all this part of the action being car-
ried on by the chorus. A romanza, by Carlo, in which he sets forth his
melancholy condition, comes in relief after the general excitement, and the
act terminates with a stretta, consequent upon the arrival of the soldiers who
have surrounded the band. Several incidents of the original play are here
packed closely together.

" The third act likewise falls into two portions. First, we have the inter-
view between Carlo and Amalia in the forest adjoining the castle, which
gives occasion for a duet. Then we have the interior of the forest, with a
robber chorus, founded on the celebrated Stehlen, morden, which once set all
the German students into a blaze of fanaticism. The act ends with the
rescue by the robbers of the old Moor, who, though supposed dead, is still
living, having been imprisoned and concealed by Francesco. In the finale,
the robbers swear that they will avenge the wrongs of their chiefs father.
The theme is proposed by Carlo, and every phrase is repeated by the chorus.
This subject, which is first in the minor, goes with a crescendo into the
major, accompanied by the whole force of the orchestra.

" The fourth act opens with the terror of the conscience- stricken Fran-
cesco after his horrible dream. He has a descriptive aria, and on the en-
trance of the pastor comes a duet, in which the reverend man utters his
pious menaces, and Francesco prays, while the voices of the robbers who
are attacking the castle are heard behind the scenes. The pastor is in uni-
son with the trombones, and Francesco is accompanied by a tremolo on the
violins, while the robbers are sustained by the whole mass of the orchestra.
A duet between Carlo and his father, and a trio, in which the robbers join,
and in which Amalia dies by the hand of Carlo, terminates the opera."

All the singers engaged exerted themselves with creditable energy and
evident effect, but, as might be expected, Jenny Lind was the soul of this
opera. The production has many inherent merits, but her unsurpassable
voice at once achieved its prosperity.

Taglioni is now at Her Majesty's Theatre, and still maintains her pre-
eminence as the divinity of dancing. The management appears determined
to terminate, as spiritedly as it has carried on, this magnificent season.

1G6 THE THKATKES.

THE FRENCH THEATRE.
RACHEL.

MLLE. RACHEL, the greatest of living tragedians, has, as usual with her,
converted the St. James's Theatre, previously the arena of vaudeville and
melodrama, into a temple of the strict and stately classic drama. The
works of Corneille, Racine, Voltaire, and their modern imitators (a suhject
we discussed in last month's Patrician), now become as familiar with the
public, as those of cur own immortal Shakespeare. How admirably are
those classic plays of France represented at the St. James's Theatre ! The
faults they undeniably possess sink unnoticed before the surpassing genius
of Rachel. Length of speechifying, pomposity of diction, and want
of action are no longer perceived, for, the enchantress has infused her
spirit into the poetry ; she may be compared to the sun bursting, in its
glory upon the glassy expanse of some large and lordly lake : the aspect,
though grand, was chill and inanimate before : it is now on fire, dazzling
and sparkling in its brilliancy. Mile. Rachel has appeared in Les Horaces,
Phe'dre, Marie Stuart, Andromaque, Virginie, and Tancrede. The style and
excellence of her acting as the heroine in the four first of these tragedies
is now well known : in the last, that of Tancrede by Voltaire, her per-
formance is a novelty. This powerfully written play, to which the cele-
brated opera of " Tancredi" owes its libretto, is one of the chef-d'ceuvres
of its author : it is replete with beautiful verse, and is thoroughly chival-
rous in sentiment and story. Of Tancrede, M. Schlegel, no friend to
Voltaire and the classic drama, speaks thus in his celebrated lectures :

" Since the Cid no Frtnoh tragedy had appeared, of which the plot was
founded on such pure motives of honour and love without any ignoble in-
termixtures, and so completely consecrated to the exhibition of chivalrous
sentiments, as Tancrede. Amenaide, though honour and life are at stake,
disdains to exculpate herself by a declaration which would endanger her
lover ; and Tancred, though justified in esteeming her faithless, defends her
in single combat, and seeks in despair the death of a hero, when the unfor-
tunate error clears up. So far the piece is irreproachable, and deserving of
the greatest praise. But it is weakened by other imperfections. It is of
greatdetriment to its perspicuity, that we cannot at the very first hear the
letter without superscription, which occasions all the embarrassment, and
that it is not sent off before our eyes. The political disquisitions in the first
act are tedious ; Tancrede appears in the third act for the first time, and he
is impatiently expected to give animation to the scene. The furious impre-
cations of Amenaide at the conclusion are not in harmony with the deep
but soft emotion with which we are overpowered by the re-union of two
lovers, who have mistaken each other, in the moment of their separation by
death."

The imperfections M. Schlegel speaks of appeared not in the representa-
tion of the St. James's Theatre : had he listened to Rachel, he would no
longer have complained of the imprecating language at the conclusion. The
impassioned eloquence of Rachel gave to the passage exquisite effect. Her
exclamation " Tancrede, cher Tancrede" as she threw herself on the body
of the beloved and expiring knight will not be soon forgotten by those who
heard it. Her acting throughout the whole tragedy was admirable : Amenaide
is by her personified to the life — the high born damsel of an age of chivalry,

THK THEATRES. !(>/

haughty and ardent, yet gentle and benevolent, unbending in her notions of
honour, and boundless in her affection. At the beginning of the play where
occurs the following speech, the tone of Rachel is replete with force and
dignity :

Ah ! combats ces terreurs,
Et ne m'en donne point. Souviens-toi que ma m£

Nous unit Tun et 1'autre a ses derniers momens,

Que Tancre'de est a moi ; qu'aucune loi contraire

Ne peut rien sur nos vceux, et sur nos sentimens.

Helas ! nous regrettions cette ile si funeste,

Dans le sien de la gloire et des murs des Ce'sars ;

Vers ces champs trop aimes qn'aujourd'hui je d£teste ;

Nous tournions tristement nos avides regards.

J'e'tais loin de penser que le sort qui m'obsede

Me gardat pour epoux 1'oppresseur de Tancrdde ;

Et que j'aurais pour dot Texecrable present

Des biens qu'un ravisseur enl£ve a mon amant.

II faut 1'instruire au moins d'une telle injustice,

Qu'il apprenne de moi sa perte et mon supplice,

Qu'il hate son retour et defende ses droits.

Pour venger un heros je fais ce que je dois.

Ah ! si je le pouvais, j'en ferais davantage.

J'aime, je crains un p£re, et respecte son age ;

Mais je voudrais armer nos peuples souleves

Centre cet Orbasson qui nous a captives.

D'un brave chevalier sa conduite est indigne.

Intdressd, cruel, il pr6tend a 1'honneur !

II croit d'un peuple libre e"tre le protecteur !

11 ordonne ma honte, et mon pere la sigrie !

Et je dois la subir, et je dois me livrer

Au maitre imperieux qui pense m'honorer !

Helas ! dans Syracuse on hait la tyrannic.

Mais la plus execrable, et la plus impunie,

Est celle qui commande et la haine et 1'amour,

Et qui veut nous forcer de changer en un jour.

Le sorte en est jete.

When she hears that Tancred, who has just slain in single combat her op-
pressor, nevertheless listens to the accusations against her, her burst of in-
dignation is truly startling :

AMENAIDB.

Lui, me croire coupable !

FANIK.

Ah ! s'il peut s'abuser,
Excusez un amant.

AMENAIDE.

Rien ne peut 1'excuser. . . .
Quand 1'univers entier m'accuserait d'un crime
Sur son jugement seul un grand homme appuye,
A 1'univers seduit oppose son estime.
II aura done pour moi combattu par pitie !
Cet opprobre est affreux, et j'en suis accablee.
Helas ! mourant pour lui, je mourais consolce ;

VOL. IV. NO. XVI. O

168 THE THEATRES.

Et c'est lui qui m 'outrage et m'ose soupc.onner !

C'en est fait ; je ne veux jamais lui pardonner.

Ses bienfaits sont toujours presens k ma pense*e,

Us resteront graves dans mon ame offensee ;

Mais s'il a pu me croire indigne de sa foi,

C'est lui qui pour jamais est indigne de moi.

Ah ! de tous mes affronts c'est le plus grand peut-etre.
But Tancred is brought wounded to her presence, and in an instant her
anger is forgotten. Rachel with heart rending eloquence, pours forth her
whole affection, and agony : the very soul of a fond and despairing woman
is in her voice :

Tancr^de, cher amant, trop cruel et trop tendre,

Dans nos derniers instans, he'las ! peux-tu m'entendre,

Tes yeux appesantis, peuvent-ils me revoir ?

He'las ! reconnais-moi, connais mon dese&poir.

Dans le meme tombeau souffre au moins ton e*pouse,

C'est-la le seul honneur dont mon ame est jalouse.

Ce nom sacre m'est dti, tu me 1'avais promis ;

Ne sois point plus cruel que tous nos ennemis.

Honore d'un regard ton Spouse fidele. . . .

(il la regarde).
C'est done Ik le dernier que tu jettes sur elle !. . . .

De ton coeur genereux son cceur est-il hai ?

Peux-tu me soup9onner ?

M. de Voltaire nearly ninety years ago produced the tragedy of Tancrede
with the approval of a court and the applause of a people who would tole-
rate nought but the classic drama. Little could he have dreamt that, in
another age, in a foreign land — the very territory of Shakespeare, the same
play would fill a theatre to suffocation, a monarch and her noblesse forming
a portion of the audience. Such a result is owing to that high order of
genius, the attribute of Mile. Rachel, which overcomes all prejudice of time
or country.

Since her performance in Tancrede, Mile. Rachel has agreeably surprised
the public by appearing in comedy ; her success has been equally striking.
She played Celemene in the famous Misanthrope of Moli£re, a master- piece
of wit and satire, from which Sheridan borrowed a great deal of his School
for Scandal. Indeed, Lady Teazle has, in some points, a strong resemblance
to the coquette Celemene.

In conclusion we would observe that Mile. Rachel has been very ably
supported by the other performers of the St. James's Theatre. Raphael
Felix, Marius, and Mile. Rabut are artists fully capable of appreciating,
and expressing the fine verse of the great poets of France.

*#* Among the English theatres now open, the Hayir.arket, the Princess's,
and the Adelphi, of course take the lead. Mrs. Nisbett at the Haymarket,
and Madame Vestris and Mathews at the Princess's are as excellent as ever.
The new drama of " Title Deeds" at the Adelphi is eminently successful,
and, in truth, fully deserves to be so.

169

EXHIBITIONS.

THE BRITISH INSTITUTION, PALL MALL.

THE collection of ancient masters contributed to this admirable insti-
tution, for 1847, is now open, and the display proves as interesting, and
attractive as ever. It comprises sacred pictures, historical portraits, and
landscapes, many of which are already known to fame throughout the
world, and may be looked on with delight, again and again, for ever.
Rembrandt, Rubens, Vandyke, Claude, Cuyp, Vander-Heyden, Reynolds
and Lawrence are here in all their glory. Such paintings need no com-
ment or description : they must be viewed.

HISTORICAL PRIZE PAINTINGS, Chinese Exhibition Room, Hyde Park
Corner, THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST.

Two years ago a public offer was made in the following terms : — ONE
THOUSAND POUNDS are hereby tendered to the Artist who shall produce the
best OIL PAINTING of the BAPTISM OF CHRIST, by immersion in the river
Jordan, to illustrate the statements made by the Evangelists :

MATTHEW iii. 13 — 17.

" Then cometh Jesus from Galilee to Jordan unto John, to be baptised
of him.''

" But John forbad him, saying, I have need to be baptised of thee, and
comest thou to me ?''

"And Jesus answering said unto him, Suffer it to be so now : for
thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness. Then he suffered him."

"And Jesus, when he was baptised went up straightway out of the
water ; and lo the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit
of God descending like a dove, and lightning upon him :"

"And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom
I am well pleased."

MARK i. 9 — 11.

"And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from Nazareth of
Galilee, and was baptised of John in Jordan."

"And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens
opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him :"

" And there came a voice from heaven, saying, Thou art my beloved
Son in whom I am well pleased."

LUKE iii. 21 and 22.

"Now when all the people were baptized, it came to pass, that Jesus
also being baptized, and praying, the heaven was opened,"

" And the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon
him, and a voice came from heaven which said, Thou art my beloved
Son • in thee I am well pleased."

o 2

170 EXHIBITIONS.

And the following lines from the 1st Book of Milton's " Paradise Re-
gained "

' ' I saw

The Prophet do him reverence, on him rising
Out of the water, heaven above the clouds
Unfold her crystal door, &c. — Lines 79 — 85.
Again, Line 288

• "As I rose out of the laving stream."

" It is required that the size of the work shall be not less than 12 feefc
by 12, nor greater than 15 feet by 12, and the two principal figures shall
be at least as large as life; two years to be allowed for the completion
and sending in of the pictures. The competition to be open to artists
of all nations, and the £1000 to be paid to the successful Competitor,
before the close of the Exhibition."

In consequence of this announcement, several paintings were for-
warded to the Picture Gallery, (formerly the Chinese Exhibition Room)
Hyde Park Corner, which was fitted up at great expense for the reception
of them.

This exhibition which is now closed, was visited by Prince Albert, the
nobility, and numbers of the public.

We now refer to it, wishing to call attention to the painting
which has actually won the prize. Before doing so, however, we
cannot but express our satisfaction at a custom which has recently
sprung up, and which has been most creditably fostered by the govern-
ment ; we mean the plan of offering prizes of large value to the com-
petition of artists. Little can people imagine the immense good that is
done by this. Real talent is often modest and retiring to its own depres-
sion and ruin. Unless some public encouragement be given — some im-
petus employed, it may never come forward. The mind that might
conceive, and the hand that might perform a master piece, how fre-
quently,alas! forwant of afield to dare in, linger and perish in obscurity.
The simple means of offering prizes will put an end to this evil at once.
Honour to the spirited individuals who combine to do so ! Through
their aid, genius is unbound, and like the freed eagle, straightways soars
into those lofty regions, the home of its aspirations.

The present instance exemplifies what we say. Many inferior paint-
ings of course came to this exhibition at Hyde Park Corner, but the one
that achieved the premium is a magnificent production. It is the work
of Mr. John Wood. This gentleman had already been successful in
having a picture of his chosen as the altar piece at Bermondsey Church
— the beautiful painting of " the Ascension " now there — and, no doubt,
encouraged by that, he put his whole soul in the present struggle, and
\ve do not hesitate to say that he has done a work of surpassing ex-
cellence. The boldness of design, the depth and richness of tone and
colour, the correctness of drawing both in the landscape and the figures,
and the majestic aspect of the whole, mark Mr. Wood's Baptism of
Christ as emanating from a brain profoundly impressed with know-
ledge and appreciation of the mighty masters of the mightiest school —
the immortal painters of Italy. Much of the manner and the mind of
Raphael Urban, and Sebastian del Piombo hang about this picture of
the Baptism.

EXHIBITIONS. 171

To convey some idea of the grandeur of the composition, and the
extent of Mr. Wood's labours, we give the following detailed description
of his painting.

The point of time chosen in his representation of Christ's Baptism is
immediately after John has suffered Jesus to be immersed by him, just
as he is uttering the words of administration. The Saviour of mankind
is represented in an attitude most favourable for the ceremony, and most
according with the practice said by travellers to be still observed at
baptismal rites by Oriental Christians. On the right of St. John, im-
mediately behind the Saviour, are groups representing Joseph of Ari-
mathea, Nicodemus, Peter and Andrew ; and the more youthful figure
of St. John the Evangelist. On the left of St. John are St. Luke, St.
James the minor, St. Simeon, St. Matthew, St. Thomas, St. Jude and
Judas. In the foreground are figures of persons who have just been
baptized, or who are preparing to be so -, and in the background is seen
a crowd of spectators.

This painting by Mr. Wood is, or at least was recently to be seen at his
residence in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square. We sincerely trust that
its ultimate public destination — the adornment of a metropolitan church,
— may be effected as speedily as possible.

172

>• )£ ?mf •oonnliHit. s .tj

LITERATURE.

tblBK

srto

STORY OF THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. By the REV. G. R. GLEIG, M.A.

John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1847.

IT was a happy idea of this well known and able writer, to throw into
one small volume the actual events of the battle of Waterloo, so as
to form a tale apart from the rest of history. In the ordinary perusal of
the annals of the time, the reader becomes generally confused, and
fatigued before he encounters the actual details — necessarily somewhat
lengthy — of the fight at Waterloo ; nor can a person easily himself
detach that portion of the political narrative which relates to the battle
alone. Here, however, the difficulty is admirably removed, for, in one
small volume, almost at one view, we have the whole memorable event
with every circumstance attached to it laid plainly before us. What
really adds to the value of the book is the amazing clearness and simpli-
city of its style : a mere child might comprehend it. This is a boon of
no small worth to civilians, when they would read about military mat-
ters, for, in general this portion of history, if at all elaborate, becomes
unintelligible to any but the soldier. Mr. Gleig has indeed made a
simple story of that legend of victory, which must ring in the ears, and
warm the blood of generation after generation, until England is no
more.

This account of the battle is so well knit together that it is rather
difficult to separate any portion of it. The following extract may
however be read with interest as describing, more minutely than usual,
Napoleon's last day at Elba, prior to his alighting again, with the pride
and rapidity of his own eagle, upon the land of France.

" His favourite sister Pauline, bringing other ladies in her train, paid him a visit.
There was much hospitality, with great apparent politeness, at the palace ; and
much talk was held concerning the improvements which he meditated both in
the form and size of his own residence and in the harbour and town. His
guards also he frequently reviewed, and seemed to take as much pleasure in
the exercise as if he had been passing a whole army before him. So passed the
beginning of February, 1815, and on the 26th a grand entertainment was given
iit the palace. Sir Neil Campbell, the English resident in Elba, was not there, for
he had gone in the only cruiser that observed the coast to Leghorn : but the
representatives of Austria and Russia were present, and marked attention was
paid to them. Napoleon walked through the several halls, saluting his guests;
and then, leaving the ladies to do the rest, went about his own business. His
guards, to the number of 1100, had been directed to parade near the quay at
three in the afternoon. They stood under arms till half-past four, when Napoleon
joined them ; and he and they were all on board of ship by seven o'clock in the
same evening. For this facility likewise of troubling Europe, the Allies had left
him, that he had retained at his disposal, a flotilla more than sufficient to transport
his troops to the Continent whenever the desire of doing so should become strong
with him.

'* How he bore himself during that brief voyage — commanding the respect of his
followers by the calmness and self-possession of his manner — is a matter of
history. lie felt from the moment that his foot pressed the deck that the " die
was cast ;" and when, on baffling winds arising, and the little fleet making imper-

LITERATURE. 173

feet way, it was proposed to put back to Porto Ferrajo and await a more favourable
opportunity, he scouted the idea—" Officers and soldiers of my Guard," he said,
"we are going to France;" and the shout of enthusiasm with which the
announcement was greeted, told how well he understood his follower?. They
went to France. They saw a French frigate at a distance, but it neared them
not, and they passed. Napoleon himself answered the hail from the French brig,
which sought to be informed how it fared with the exile of Elba ; and finally he
and all his people made good their landing on the beach of the gulf of St. Juan,
just as the topmasts of the vessels from which they had descended were described
from the quarter-deck of a British sloop of- war. So close was the run of this
extraordinary man's fortune at the commencement of the last act in his public
life, and so resolute the spirit which urged him to enter upon it, and to go through
with it successfully.

Of the actual details of the engagement, the following portion has in
its terrible truth quite the vivid colouring, and intense attraction of
a romance.

" It will be necessary for a moment to look back to the proceedings of the
Prussians, whom we left bringing their troops into action as rapidly as they could,
and though repulsed in an attempt to take possession of Planchenoit. re-forming
their masses and preparing again to push them on the village. It was not exclu-
sively in this direction, however, that Bliicher strove to bring support to his
allies. Along the Wavre road his cavalry was advancing, and gradually falling in
on the left rear of Best's brigade, while lower down, through Smohaiu and La
Haye, other troops, some of them infantry, showed themselves. These mate-
rially strengthened the extreme left of the English line, and being comparatively
fresh, soon entered into the battle. In particular the Prussian artillery proved of
essential service, for the Hanoverian batteries in this direction had expended their
ammunition, and, as the infantry and cavalry came up, they descended into the
ravine, and prepared to move upon the right of the enemy's line. Thus, just at
the moment when the English had repelled the final attack of the Imperial Guard,
when D'Erlon's and Reille's corps were both completely disorganized, when the
French cavalry, mowed down by the fire of infantry and cannon, were powerless
to resist the rush which Lord Uxbridge was about to make upon them, the gallant
Prussians came into plav, and a defeat, already achieved, was converted into anni-
hilation ; for all means of rallying even a rear guard ceased. At the same time
let it be borne in mind, to the honour of the French, that on the extreme right
they still presented a firm and well-arranged front. Lobau's corps was unbroken,
and though over-matched, it faced Billow stoutly. In Planchenoit, likewise, the
Young Guard maintained themselves in spite of Pirch's repeated and desperate
efforts to dislodge them : indeed, the progress made in this direction was very
slow, for the gallant assailants purchased every foot of ground at an expense of
life which was fearful. Still, the knowledge that he was assailed on the flank and
well nigh in the rear could not fail of extinguishing in the mind of Napoleon
whatever ray of hope might have yet lingered there. He cast a hurried glance
over the field of battle. He saw his Guards coming back in wild confusion, and
strewing the earth with their dead He looked round for his cavalry, and beheld
but broken squadrons fleeing for life, yet failing to secure it His guns were
either dismounted or abandoned by the artillerymen, and there was no reserve
on which to fall back. Then it was that the terrible .words escaped him, which
will be remembered and repeated as often as the tale of his overthrow is told .
"Tout est pprdu — sauve qui peut !" was his last order, and turning his horse's
head, he galloped from the field."

" It was now eight o'clock in the evening, or perhaps a little later. The phy-
sical strength of the combatants on both sides had become well nigh exhausted,
and on the part of the English there was a feverish desire to close with the enemy,
and bring matters to an issue. Up to the present moment, however, the Duke
had firmly restrained them. For all purposes of defensive warfare they were

174

LITERATURE.

excellent troops ; the same blood was in their veins which had stirred their more
veteran comrades of the Peninsula, but, as has elsewhere been explained, four-
fifths of the English regiments were raw levies, — second battalions, to manoeuvre
with which in the presence of a skilful enemy might have been dangerous.
Steadily therefore, and with a wise caution, the Duke held them in hand, giving
positive orders to each of his generals that they should not follow up any tempo-
rary success, so as to endanger the consistency of their lines, but return after
every charge to the crest of the hill, and be content with holding that. Now,
however, the moment was come for acting on a different principle. Not by Adam
and Maitland alone, but by the brigades of Omteda, Pack, Kempt, and Lambert,
the enemy had been overthrown with prodigious slaughter, and all equally panted
to be let loose. Moreover, from minute to minute the sound of firing in the
direction of Planchenoit became more audible. It was clear, therefore, that even
young troops might be slipped in pursuit without much hazard to their own
safety, and the Duke let his people go. The lines of infantry were simultaneously
formed, the cavalry mounted and rode on, and then a cheer began on the right,
which flew like electricity throughout the entire extent of the position. Well was
it understood, especially by those who, on a different soil and under a warmer sun,
had often listened to similar music. The whole line advanced, and scenes com-
menced of fiery attack and resolute defence — of charging horsemen and infantry
stern, such as there is no power, either in pen or pencil, adequately to describe.

*' It might savour of invidiousness were I, in dealing with this part of my sub-
ject, to specify particular brigades or regiments, as if they more than others had
distinguished themselves. The case was not so. Every man that day did his
duty— making allowance, of course, for the proportion of weak hearts which
move in the ranks of every army, and seize the first favourable opportunity that
presents itself of providing for their own safety. And probably it will not be
received as a stain upon the character of British troops if I venture to hazard a
conjecture, that in the army of Waterloo these were as numerous as in any which
the Duke of Wellington ever commanded. Accident, however, and their local
situation in the battle necessarily bring some corps more conspicuously into view
than others, and at this stage of the fight Adam's infantry, with Vivian's hussars,
had the good fortune to take in some sort the lead. The former followed up their
success against the Imperial Guard with an impetuosity which nothing could
resist. They left the whole of their dismounted comrades behind them, and
seemed to themselves to be completely isolated, when Vivian's hussars whom
Lord Uxbridge had ordered on, swept pass them. For there was seen on the
rise of the enemy's ascent a body of cavalry collected, which gathered strength
from one moment to another, and threatened ere long to become again formidable.
It was of vital importance that it should be charged and overthrown ere time was
given to render it the nucleus of a strong rear guard ; and against it, by the
Duke's personal command, the hussar brigade was directed. Loudly these rivals
in enterprise and gallantly cheered one another as the British horsemen galloped
past, and both caught a fresh impulse from the movement.

" Adam's brigade moved steadily on ; Maitland's marched in support of it ;
and down from their ' mountain throne' the rest of the infantry moved in succes-
sion. The cavalry came first into play. It was observed, as they pushed on, that
at the bottom of the descent two squares stood in unbroken order. These were the
battalions of the Guard which had been drawn up to support the advance of the
French columns ; and, though, grievously incommoded by the swarms of fugi-
tives which rushed down upon them, t'hey still kept their ranks. A portion
of the cavalry wheeled up and faced them. It is a serious matter to charge a
square on which no impression has been made, and probably Vivian, with all
his chivalry, would have hesitated to try the encounter, had he not seen that
Adam was moving towards the further face of one of these masses with the
apparent design of falling upon it. He did not therefore hesitate to let loose a
squadron of the 10th, which, headed by Major Howard, charged home, and
strove, though in vain, to penetrate. The veterans of the French Guard were
not to be broken. They received the hussars on their bayonets, cut down many

LITERATURE. 175

with their fire, and succeeded in retreating in good order, though not without loss.
Moreover, just at this moment one battery, which had escaped the general confu-
sion, opened upon the flank of Adam's brigade, while another came galloping
across the front of the 18th Hussars, as if seeking some position whence they in
like manner might enfilade the line of advance which the British troops had
taken. But these latter were instantly charged, the gunners cut down, and
the pieces taken ; while the former soon fell into the hands of the 52nd regiment,
which changed its front for a moment, and won the trophy.

" Darkness now began to set in, and the confusion in the French ranks became
so great as to involve, in some degree, the pursuers in similar disorder. The
more advanced cavalry got so completely intermingled among crowds of fleeing
men and horses, that they could neither extricate themselves nor deal their blows
effectually. Moreover, as the night deepened, and the Prussians began to arrive
at the scene of action, more than one awkward rencounter took place, which was
with difficulty stayed. Nevertheless, the pursuit was not checked. Down their
own slope, across the valley, up the face of the enemy's hill, and beyond the
station of La Belle Alliance, the British line marched triumphant. They lite-
rally walked over the dead and dying, the numbers of which they were continually
augmenting. Guns, tumbrils, ammunition waggons, drivers — the whole materiel,
in short, of the dissolved army, remained nTtheir possession. Once or twice
some battalions endeavoured to withstand them, and a particular corps of f grena-
diers a cheval' contrived, amid the wreck of all around, to retain their order.
But the battalions were charged, rolled up, and dissolved in succession, while the
horsemen effected no higher triumph than to quit the Held like soldiers. Still the
battle raged at Planchenoit and on the left of it, where Lobau and the Young
Guard obstinately maintained themselves, till the tide of fugitives from the rear
came rolling down upon them, and they too felt that all was lost. Then came
the Prussians pouring in. Then, too, the Duke, feeling that the victory was won,
caused the order for a general halt to be passed; and regiment by regiment
the weary but victorious English lay down upon the position which they had won.

" It is well known that throughout this magnificent advance the Duke was up
with the foremost of his people. Nothing stopped him — nothing stood in
his way. He cheered on Adam's brigade, and halted beyond its front. He spoke
to the skirmishers, and mingled with them ; till at last one of his staff ventured
to remonstrate against the manner in which he was exposing himself. • You have
no business here, sir/ was the frank and soldier-like appeal ; ' we are getting into
inclosed ground, and your life is too valuable to be thrown away.' ' Never mind,'
replied the Duke ; * let them fire away. The battle's won, and my life is of no
consequence now.' And thus he rode on, regardless of the musketry which
whistled about him. The fact is, that though he had put a machine in motion
which no resistance could stop, he was still determined to superintend its working
to the last moment ; and the further the night closed in, the more determined he
was to observe for himself whatever dispositions the enemy might have made.
Accordingly, keeping ahead of his own line, and mingling, as has just been
stated, with the skirmishers, he pushed on till he passed to a considerable distance
beyond La Belle Alliance, and there satisfied himself that the route was complete.
At last he reined up his horse, and turned him towards Waterloo. He rode, at
this titre, well nigh alone. Almost every individual of his personal staff had
fallen, either killed or wounded. Col. De Lancey, Quartermaster -General, was
mortally wounded; Major-Gen. Barnes, Adjutant- General, was wounded ; Lieut.-
Col. Lord Fitzroy Somerset, Military Secretary, ' had lost his right arm ; and of
his Grace's Aides-de-camp two, namely, Lieut. -Col. the Honourable Alexander
Gordon and Lieut. -Col. Canning, were both struck down. The latter died on the
spot, the former survived his mortal hurt only long enough to learn from the
chief whom he served and dearly loved, that the battle was going well. Indeed,
the losses that day to England, and to the best of English blood, were terrible.
Lord Uxbridge, as is well known, was struck by one of the last shots fired, and
suffered amputation of the leg. Picton, the hero of a hundred fights, was gone
whither alone his glory could follow him. But it is as useless to enumerate the

176 LITERATURE.

brave who purchased with their lives this day a renown which can never perish,
as it would be idle to attempt a description of the feelings of the survivors.

May every one, who doats on England's fame, be he in his school, his
manly, or his slippered days, read and re-read this story of Waterloo.

WAYFARING SKETCHES AMONG THE GREEKS AND TURKS, and on the
Shores of the Danube, By a Seven Years' Resident in Greece. Chap-
man and Hall. 186, Strand. 1847.

WE must confess we have a predilection for an Eastern book. Let
oriental narratives and descriptions multiply as they may, there is ever
something new to tell, something marvellous to hear about the land of
the cypress and myrtle. The author of the work before us has the ad-
vantage of a long residence amid the Greeks and Turks ; and he evi-
dently speaks with the firm tone and clear conception of one who is
thoroughly conversant with his subject. The work contains a fund of
entertainment and instruction. There pervades too a religious feeling
throughout which leads to some very impressive writing about the
present moral degradation of the Turks. The religion of the Mussul-
man is thus deprecated :

" Mahomedanism is hourly opening out into a new aspect before me. I had
imagined it but a low, degraded creed, one of the numerous offsprings of prolific
error ard ignorance, which, as a substitute for the truth that has not yet dawned
upon them, could not have a better or a worse effect in its moral influence, on
the great multitude, than any other vain superstition ; but from the conversation
of those whom I meet here, and who are well qualified to judge, and from a
closer view of its palpable working, not as seen in the history of past ages, but
on the hearts and minds of the individuals with whom I am actually in contact
every day, I cannot but think, that it was originally a deeply-laid scheme, carried
out with an almost fiend-like knowledge of the human heart, for enthralling the
people by working solely on their evil passions. Most other religions, however
much they may have fallen from their common origin in man's instinctive con-
sciousness of the Supreme, have at least for their ultimate aim and end the moral
improvement of man; whereas the system of Llamism would seem in every*
doctrine and in every law to foster and bring forth their worst propensities, pre-
senting even the heaven for which their purer spirit is to strive under images so
earthly, that the very hope itself degrades them to the lowest level of mankind ;
and satisfying the conscience that goads their fallen nature to arise, with a few
material and unmeaning observances, strong onlv in their strictness.

" It is thus at least that Mahomedanism appears in this country ; elsewhere it
may be, and I have heard that it is, otherwise ; a religion not divine must neces-
sarily have different results according to the character and peculiarities of the
people on whom it acts, like the practical working of any other system. Assur-
edly it has found here a fair field, if its object were to brutalize the people and
paralyse their higher faculties ; for I become daily more convinced than in none
have the last traces of that image in which man was created been more utterly
effaced than in the Turks, notwithstanding the strong prepossession in favour of
this people which exists in Europe, and which I fully shared till I found myself
face to face with them in their own country, and in their true colours."

Some of the writer's adventures are related with much ani nation.
The following account of a stormy night on the Black Sea is well
'told :—

" We were destined, however, to a yet more unfavourable reception. As we
got fairly out of sight of land, every thing grew ominous of coming warfare.
Just at nightfall a vivid flash of lightning suddenly tore asunder the huge black
curtain which seemed to hang motionless against the sky, and from the vast rent

LITERATURE 177

the liberated tempest came thundering forth, all fire and fury, and rushed howling
over the agitated sea, maddening the convulsed waters till spray, and foam, and
rain, became one wild confusion, and our little vessel shook and shivered as the
billows wreathed themselves around it, and dashed down raging on its deck. A
scene more fiercely desolate could not well be conceived ; the mournful howling
of the wind, and the roaring of the ocean, whose breast it was tearing up, made a
savage music altogether which was as awful as it was sublime ; and the violent
pitching of the ship rendered it scarce possible to distinguish the black flying
rack above from the yet blacker mass of surge below When matters came to
this crisis, of course all went below, excepting the motionless Turks ; and cer-
tainly if the storm were sublime above, it was most ludicrous in its eflfects down
stairs. There was a continued and involuntary polka dancing on the part of the
most sedate passengers, chairs and tables careering frantically to and fro with a
confused din, consisting of lamentations in Turkish, anathemas in Greek, angry
mutterings of misery in French, abrupt and comprehensible groans in German,
and over all the piteous voice of Kentucky, giving a pretty good guess that he
had never been so wretched before.

" From the ladies' cabin (which I entered head foremost, after having been
thrown down stairs by one lurch of the vessel, violently flung under the table in
the saloon by another, and jerked out again before any one had time to help me),
every article of furniture had been removed ; and mingled invocations to St.
Nicholas and the prophet, rose from various agitated heaps in the several corners.
After knocking my head on the four sides of the room, I was precipitated iiito a
berth, where I was destined to pass the night, clinging to the wall lest I should
fall out, and be compelled to continue this violent exercise.

" The storm never abated during the interminable hours, till daylight, and al-
though I do not suppose any one slept in the whole vessel, the sufferers at last
became quite passive, and nothing was to be heard but an occasional groan ; di-
rectly below me, an unfortunate lady was extended on a mattress on the floor,
which was inlaid with polished wood ; every time the vessel rolled, the mattress
and its burden slid down the room to the opposite wall, where the lady received
a violent blow on the head, and then, as the ship righted again, returned slowly
to their place. There was a species of fascination in this slow torture, which
occupied me the whole night ; and such was the state to which we were all re-
duced, that although the lady who thus helplessly acted the part of a living
pendulum, was my own mother, I lay composedly watching her sail away to the
other side, and waited till she should come back and knock her head, without
even making an effort to relieve her. Daylight brought no improvement in our
position, and I alone had strength enough left to creep up on deck. I managed
to crawl round to offer my assistance to the inmates of the respective berths
before I left the room ; but I received no other answer from any, than an entreaty
that I would put a speedy termination to their existence. I could not adopt so
violent a measure, though I felt that my own demise would have been a relief,
so I left them to their miseries, and with much difficulty crept up on deck, where
I was dragged to a pile of cushions laid out for me by a sailor, and there I sunk
to move no more all day, catching a glimpse in my passage across the deck of the
compact mass of turbans waving to and fro, with an instinctive consciousness
that each individual Turk was sea-sick.

" The scene was not the less dreary that the light of day had risen over it,
'and a cold, piercing blast shriek most dismally among the sails, which they had
vainly put up to try and steady the sh p. Throughout the whole of that long day
it continued thus. None of the other passengers came from below, and as I lay
half asleep, half awake, on the deck, every now and then the scenes we had been
in the midst of, only yesterday, rose up before me ; the golden city sparkling in
sunshine, the bird peopled gardens, the soft rippling waters; till a great cold
wave, plunging into the vessel, and drenching me with foam, recalled me to the con-
trasted reality, and showed me the black, boiling sea, and wild tempestuous sky.

11 In the afternoon, we lay to for half an hour, opposite to the town of Varna,
so celebrated in the Balkan war, as having stood a siege of six mouths against an
enormous Russian force. It is so stormy a roadstead that I could only obtain a
glimpse of it by clinging to the side of the ship for a few minutes as we reeled

178 LITERATURE.'

to and fro, but this cursory glance was sufficient to show me so poor and
wretched-looking a town, that I could not conceive how a single troop of cavalry
should not have been sufficient to demolish it at once ; yet I am told that this
immense army, which though it sustained considerable loss in the march across
the Balkan, had yet an enormous force, sat down before it for many months.

" There were several Russian vessels lying round us, with all their rigging
seemingly in the trimmest order, but I knew how far to trust to the flourishing
appearance which Russia gives to all her naval appurtenances, from a little cir-
cumstance which occurred not long since in Athens. We had gone on board of a
Russian corvette, and had greatly admired, not only the neatness and order
everywhere displayed, but the attention which seemed to be bestowed on the
comfort of the sailors, as their neat hammocks were all ranged round the deck
just as in an English ship. Shortly after, a Russian lady, a friend of ours, went
a voyage in this same ship, and returned long before the time she had originally
intended, because she was so utterly disgusted with the misery and ill-treatment
of the unfortunate crew. The hammocks were a mere sham got up for show,
and her description of the want of cleanliness and comfort, and the barbarous
punishments daily administered, was most dreadful. The wind became favour-
able as soon as we left Varna, but the night was not the less tempestuous ? and I
was very glad there was nothing to be seen before the darkness set in, as it was
quite impossible to stand upright.

This volume is a valuable addition to the many, but not too many
books already written about the East.

THE TRUE STORY OF MY LIFE : a Sketch by HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
Translated by MARY HOWITT. Longman & Co. 1847.

A DELIGHTFUL little book, written with the whole fine soul, and sterling
sentiment of that excellent author, Andersen the Dane. The transla-
tion, like indeed all those of Mrs. Howitt, is most gracefully done. She
thus dedicates the work :

"To JENNY LIND, the English Translation of the True Story of her Friend's
Life is inscribed in admiration of her beautiful talents and still more beautiful
life, by MARY HOWITT.

We pass at once over the other parts of this interesting book, to
present from it the following account of the Swedish Nightingale, which
must prove acceptable to every reader :

" At this period of my life, I made an acquaintance which was of great moral
and intellectual importance to me. I have already spoken of several persons and
public characters who have had influence on me as the poet ; but none of these
have had more, nor in a nobler sense of the word, than the lady to whom I here
turn myself; she, through whom I, at the same time, was enabled to forget my
own individual self, to feel that which is holy in art, and to become acquainted
with the command which God has given to genius.

" I now turn back to the year 1840. One day in the hotel in which I lived in
Copenhagen, I saw the name of Jenny Lind among those of the strangers from
Sweden. I was aware at that time that she was the first singer in Stockholm. I
had been that same year, in this neighbour country, and had there met with hon-
our and kindness : I thought, therefore, that it would not be unbecoming in me
to pay a visit to the young artist. She was, at this time, entirely unknown out of
Sweden, so that I was convinced that, even in Copenhagen, her name was know
only by a few. She received me very courteously, but yet distantly, almost
coldly. She was, as she said, on a journey with her father to South Sweden, and
was come over to Copenhagen for a few days in order that she might see this
city. We again parted distantly, and I had the impression of a very ordinary
character which soon passed away from my mind.

" In the autumn of 1843, Jenny Lind came again to Copenhagen. One of my

LITERATURE.

179

friends, our cleverjballet-m aster, Bournonville, who has married a Swedish lady,
a friend of Jenny Lind, informed me of her arrival here and told me that she re-
membered me very kindly, and that now she had read my writings. He entreated
me to go with him to her, and to employ all my persuasive art to induce her to
take a few parts at the Theatre Royal ; I should, he said, be then quite enchanted
with what I should hear.

" I was not now received as a stranger ; she cordially extended to me her hand,
and spoke of my writings and of Miss Fredrika Bremer, who also was her affec-
tionate friend. The conversation was soon turned to her appearance in Copen-
hagen, and of this Jenny Lind declared that she stood in fear.

" ' I have n*ver made my appearance/ said she, ' out of Sweden; every body
in my native land is so affectionate and kind to me, and if 1 made my appearance
in Copenhagen and should be hissed ! — I dare not venture on it !'

" I said, that I, it was true, could not pass judgment on her singing, because I
had never heard it, neither did I know how she acted, but nevertheless I was con-
vinced that such was the disposition at this moment in Copenhagen, that only a
moderate voice and some knowledge of acting would be successful ; I believed
that she might safely venture.

" BoumonviUe's persuasion obtained for the Copenhageners the greatest en-
joyment which they ever had.

" Jenny Lind made her first appearance among them as Alice in Robert le
Diable — it was like a new revelation in the realms of art, the youthfully fresh
voice forced itself into every heart ; here reigned truth and nature ; every thing
was full of meaning and intelligence. At one concert Jenny Lind sang her
Swedish songs ; there was something so peculiar in this, so bewitching ; people
thought nothing about the concert room ; the popular melodies uttered by a
being so purely feminine, and bearing the universal stamp of genius, exercised
their omnipotent sway — the whole of Copenhagen was in raptures. Jenny Lind
was the first singer to whom the Danish students gave a serenade : torches blazed
around the hospitable villa where the serenade was given : she expressed her
thanks by again singing some Swedish songs, and I then saw her hasten into the
darkest corner and weep for emotion.

" * Yes, yes/ said she, * I will exert myself; I will endeavour, I will be better
qualified than I am when I again come to Copenhagen.'

" On the stage, she was the great artiste, who rose above, all those around her ;
at home, in her own chamber, a sensitive young girl with all the humility and
piety of a child.

" Her appearance in Copenhagen made an epoch in the history of our opera ;
it showed me art in its sanctity— I had beheld one of its vestals. She journeyed
back to Stockholm, and from there Fredrika Bremer wrote to me : — ' With re-
gard to Jenny Lind as a singer, we are both of us perfectly agreed ; she stands
as high as any artist of our time can stand ; but as yet you do not know her iu her
full greatness.j Speak to her about her art, and you will wonder at the expansion of
her mind, and will see her countenance beaming with inspiration. Converse then
with her of God, and of the holiness of religion, and you will see tears in those
innocent eyes ; she is great as an artist, but she is still greater in her pure human
existence !'

" In the following year I was in Berlin ; the conversation with Meyerbeer
turned upon Jenny Lind ; he had heard her sing the Swedish songs and was
transported by them.

" ' But how does she act ?' asked he.

" I spoke in raptures of her acting, and gave him at the same time some idea
of her representation of Alice. He said to me that perhaps it might be possible
for him to determine her to come to Berlin.

" It is sufficiently well known that she made her appearance there, threw every
one into astonishment and delight, and won for herself in Germany a European
name. Last autumn she came again to Copenhagen, and the enthusiasm was in-
credible ; the glory of renown makes genius perceptible to every one. People
bivouacked regularly before the theatre, to obtain a ticket. Jenny Lind appeared
still greater than ever in her art, because they had an opportunity of seeing her

180 LITERATURE.

in many and such extremely different parts. Her Norma is plastic ; every atti-
tude might serve as the most beautiful model to a sculptor, and yet people felt
that these were the inspiration of the moment, and had not been studied before
the glass. Norma is no raving Italian ; she is the suffering, sorrowing woman —
the woman possessed of a heart to sacrifice herself for an unfortunate rival — the
woman to whom, in the violence of the moment, the thought may suggest itself
of murdering the children of a faithless lover, but who is immediately disarmed
when she gazes into the eyes of the innocent ones.

" ( Norma, thou holy priestess,' sings the chorus, and Jenny Lind has com-
prehended and shows to us this holy priestess in the aria, Casta diva. In Copen-
hagen she sang all her parts in Swedish, and the other singers sang theirs in
Danish, and the two kindred languages mingled very beautifully together ; there
was no jarring; even in the Daughter of the Regiment, where there is a deal of
dialogue, the Swedish had something agreeable — and what acting ! nay, the word
itself is a contradiction— it was nature ; anything as true never before appeared
on the stage. She shows us perfectly the true child of nature grown up in the
camp, but an inborn nobility pervades every movement. The Daughter of the
Regiment and the Somnambule are certainly Jenny Lind's most unsurpassable
parts; no second can take their places in these beside her. People laugh,— they
cry ; it does them as much good as going to church ; they become better for it.
People feel that God is in art ; and where God stands before us face to face there
is a holy church.

" ' There will not in a whole century,' said Mendelssohn, speaking to me of
Jenny Lind, e be born another being so gifted as she ;' and his words expressed
my full conviction ; one feels as she makes her appearance on the stage, that she
is a pure vessel, from which a holy draught will be presented to us.

" There is not any thing which can lessen the impression which Jenny Lind's
greatness on the stage makes, except her own personal character at home. An
intelligent and child-like disposition exercises here its astonishing power; she is
happy ; belonging, as it were, no longer to the world, a peaceful, quiet home, is
the object of her thoughts — and yet she loves art with her whole soul, and feels
her vocation in it. A noble, pious disposition like hers cannot be spoiled by
homage. On one occasion only did I hear her express her joy in her talent and
her self-consciousness. It was during her last residence in Copenhagen. Almost
every evening she appeared either .in the opera or at concerts ; every hour was in
requisition. She heard of a society, the object of which was, to assist unfortu-
nate children, and to take them out of the hands of their parents by whom they
were misused, and compelled either to beg or steal, and to place them in other
and better circumstances. Benevolent people subscribed annually a small sum
each for their support, nevertheless the means for this excellent purpose were small.

" ' But have I not still a disengaged evening ?' said she ; * let me give a night's
performance for the benefit of these poor children ; but we will have double
prices !'

" Such a performance was given, and returned large proceeds ; when she was
informed of this, and, that by this means, a number of poor children would be
benefited for several years, her countenance beamed, and the tears filled her eyes.

" ' It is however beautiful/ said she, ' that I can sing so !'

" I value her with the whole feeling of a brother, and I regard myself as happy
that I know and understand such a spirit. God give to her that peace, that quiet
happiness which she wishes for herself !

" Through Jenny Lind I first became sensible of the holiness there is in art ;
through her I learned that one must forget oneself in the service of the Supreme.
No books, no men have had a better or a more ennobling influence on me as the

Ct, than Jenny Lind, and I therefore have spoken of her so long and so warmly
e."

It is rather singular that the author also describes another acquain-
tance,— no less a person than Mademoiselle Rachel, whose genius,
as well as that of Jenny Lind happens just now to have shed its bril-
liant influence over the metropolis.

LITERATURE. 181

" I also have to thank him for my acquaintance with Rachel. I had not seen
her act, when Alexander Dumas asked me whether I had the desire to make her
acquaintance. One evening, when she was to come out as Phedra he led me to
the stage of the Theatre Francais. The representation had begun, and behind
the scenes, where a folding screen had formed a sort of room, in which stood a
table with refreshments, and a few ottomans, sate the young girl who, as an author
has said, understands how to chisel living statues out of Racine's and Corneille's
blocks of marble. She was thin and slenderly formed, and looked very young.
She looked to me there, and more particularly so afterwards in her own house, as
an image of mourning ; as a young girl who has just wept out her sorrow, and
will now let her thoughts repose in quiet. She accosted us kindly in a deep
powerful voice. In the course of conversation with Dumas, she forgot me. I
stood there quite superfluous. Dumas observed it, said something handsome of
me, and on that I ventured to take part in the discourse, although I had a de-
pressing feeling that I stood before those who perhaps spoke the most beautiful
French in all France. I said that I truly had seen much that was glorious and
interesting, but that I never yet had seen a Rachel, and that on her account
especially had I devoted the profits of my last work to a journey to Paris ; and
as, in conclusion, I added an apology on account of my French, she smiled and
said, * When you say any thing so polite as that which you have just said to me,
to a Frenchwoman, she will always think that you speak well.'

" When I told her that her fame had resounded to the North, she declared that
it was her intention to go to Petersburgh and Copenhagen ; f and when I come
to your city/ she said, ' you must be my defender, as you are the only one there
whom I know ; and in order that we may become acquainted, and as you, as
you say, are come to Paris especially on my account, we must see one another
frequently. You will be welcome to me. I see my friends at my house every
Thursday. But duty calls/ said she, and offering us her hand, she nodded kindly,
and then stood a few paces from us on the stage, taller, quite different, and with
the expression of the tragic muse herself. Joyous acclamations ascended to where
we sate.

" As a Northlander I cannot accustom myself to the French mode of acting
tragedy. Rachel plays in this same style, but in her it appears to be nature it-
self; it is as if all the others strove to imitate her. She is herself the French
tragic muse, the others are only poor human beings. When Rachel plays people
fancy that all tragedy must be acted in this manner. It is in her truth and nature,
but under another revelation to that with which we are acquainted in the north.

"At her house every thing is rich and magnificent, perhaps too recherche. The
innermost room was blue- green, with shaded lamps and statuettes of French
authors. In the salon, properly speaking, the colour which prevailed principally
in the carpets, curtains, and bookcases was crimson. She herself was dressed in
black, probably as she is represented in the well-known English steel engraving
of her. Her guests consisted of gentlemen, for the greater part artists and men
of learning. I also heard a few titles amongst them. Richly apparelled servants
announced the names of the arrivals : tea was drunk and refreshments handed
round, more in the German than the French style.

" Victor Hugo had told me that he found she understood the German lan-
guage. I asked her, and she replied in German, " ich kann es lesen ; ich bin ja
in Lothringen geboren ; ich habe deutsche Biicher, sehn Sie hier !' and she
showed me Grillparzer's ' Sappho/ and then immediately continued the conversa-
tion in French. She expressed her pleasure in acting the part of Sappho, and
then spoke of Schiller's ' Maria Stuart/ which character she has personated in a
French version of that play. I saw her in this part, and she gave the last act
especially with such a composure and tragic feeling, that she might have been
one of the best of German actresses ; but it was precisely in this very act that
the French liked her least.

" * My countrymen/ said she, ' are not accustomed to this manner, and in this
manner alone can the part be given. No one should be raving when the heart is
almost broken with sorrow, and when he is about to take an everlasting farewell
of his friends.'

1 82 LITERATURE.

" Her drawing-room was, for the most part, decorated with books \vhicb were
splendidly bound and arranged in handsome book-cases behind glass A paint-
ing hung on the wall, which represented the interior of the theatre in London,
where she stood forward on the stage, and flowers and garlands were thrown to
her across the orchestra. Below this picture hung a pretty little book-shelf,
holding what I call ' the high nobility among the poets/ — Goethe, Schiller, Cal-
deron, Shakspeare, &c.

" She asked me many questions respecting Germany and Denmark, art, and
the theatre; and she encouraged me with a kind smile around her grave mouth,
when I stumbled in French and stopped for a moment to collect myself, that I
might not stick quite fast.

" ' Only speak/ said she. ' It is true that you do not speak French well. I
have heard many foreigners speak my native language better ; but their conver-
sation has not been nearly as interesting as yours. I understand the sense of
your words perfectly, and that is the principal thing which interests me in you.'

" The last time we parted she wrote the following words in my album : ' L'art
c'est le vrai ! J'espere que cet aphorisme ne semblera pas paradoxal a un ecri-
vain si distingue comme M. Andersen/

THE LITTLE COURIER OF THE HOTEL Du GRAND MONARQUE. Printed
at Cologne.

To TRAVELLERS, and many will be travellers now, this pamphlet-shaped
book affords a fund of information upon German railways. Evidently the
production of mine host of the famous hotel of the " Grand Monarque"
at Aachen, he, of course holds forth his own hostelry to public approbation ;
yet as the following account may prove really useful, we do not hesitate
to extract it :

" Aix-la-Chapelle, founded by Charlemagne, famous for the efficacy of its
mineral waters, as well as for the loveliness of its neighbourhood, affords so
agreeable a sojourn to the traveller, that he would regret, not to have spent at
least one day there. As there are every day five trains for Cologne and four for
Belgium, travellers who are in a hurry, may on their arrival at twelve o'clock see
the curiosities of the town before a quarter past one ; when an excellent table
d'hote is served at Mr. Dremel's Hotel du grand Monarque ; there is another table
d'hote at five o'clock, with the best attendance. Travellers, who arrive in the after-
noon, tired by a long railroad journey, may pass a most delightful evening at Aix-
la-Chapelle. After the table d'hote at five o'clock, the Louisberg, a hill, about an
English mile far from the town, is the rendezvous of all foreigners. — From the lofty
terraces of the castle, which is built in the modern style, the most magnificent view
of the town and its picturesque neighbourhood charms the visitor's eye. — Good
roads pass through the whole park, which is shaded by trees, and offers every induce-
ment for walking, or driving and riding. A band plays there every day. — On Thurs-
day, there is great assembly and concert by the military band. It is not unusual to
see two thousand visitors circulate in the spacious saloons, galleries and charming
forests of the Louisberg.

''Through all the season a Balpare is given every Saturday night at the grand
Redoute ; every night grand opera or concert, either at the theatre, or in the
large saloons of the society called Erholuny ; or at the salle of the'grand Redoute,
the pure and grand style of which is justly admired by all travellers.

" Every evening there are supper a la carte and concert at the Hotel du pgrand
Monarque. After supper, society meets again at the Redoute, where Trente and
Quarante and Roulette is played. An elegant reading room, with all German,
English, French, Belgian and Dutch papers, affords entertainment to the visitors.
A fine garden belonging to this establishment is a favourite walking-place, where
shelter is to be found under covered galleries, during rainy weather.

"Concerts, balls, festivals of all kind, follow without interruption. — From seven

LITERATURE. 183

to eight every morning the band plays at the Elisenbrunen, usual gathering place
for drinkers of mineral waters. The military band plays at noon at the theatre
square. The cathedrale, the hotel de ville are monuments of the time of Charle-
magne, and number amongst the most remarkable edifices on the borders of the
Rhine."

DIRECTIONS FOR PLAIN KNITTING : with additions and corrections for
the working Classes and Schools. By RACHEL, JANE CATTLOW. Third
Thousand. Darton and Clarke, Adams and Co:, London. Hyde and
Crewe, Newcastle under Lyme, 1847".

EVERY lady, who has the gracefnl and time-honoured taste of Penelope
should favour this little hut valuable publication. We of course are not pro-
fessed in the ancient mystery and most useful handicraft of knitting ; but
the least learned on the subject may perceive the intrinsic merits of this
pleasing production. Its sale has, too, already reached a third thousand
— a strong proof of its ability ; it fully deserves to number thousands
and thousands to come, for one feature of it is that it adapts itself to the
working classes, and in these industrious days, no cottager ought to be
without it. How many ladies now vie with each other in ornamental
work, and, armed with their needles, perform wonders in the pro-
duction of fanciful decoration. They too may not deem a little knitting
unworthy their attention, though of plain and homely character, for its
utility is great indeed. To them this book will be of service also.

We touch not on its feminine contents, further than extracting the
following quaint address with which the skilful lucubration commences ;

FROM A DAME TO HER SCHOLARS.

" 'Tis seventy years, or thereabouts,

Since I was taught to knit ;
And on a cricket I was placed

By our good dame to sit.

My needles were of wire that bent,

Not like your steel so polished ;
And to my frock a sheath was pinned,

Which now is quite abolished.

A bit of worsted served my turn,

Which twirled and twisted sadly ;
Strutt's good brown cotton, in those days,

Would have been hailed most gladly.

Now your old dame gives this advice

To the rising generation,
That, whilst children are young, they learn to knit,

Whatever may be their station.

I think, if you will give good heed

To the following explanations,
You'll find that your stockings, and socks, and gloves

Will answer your expectations."

VOL. IV. NO. XVI.

184

BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS.

Allfrey, Mrs. Frederick Wra. of a dau. 19th June.
Anson, Mrs. wife of the Rev. T. Anchitel Anson,

of a dau. 2nd July.
Ark wright, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Cliffe House,

Warwick, llth July.
Ashmore, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Paul Ashmore, of

a son, at Nottingham House, Eltham, 5th July.
Atkinson, Mrs, wife of Robt. James Atkinson, Esq.

Assistant Surgeon of Bengal Light Cavalry, of a

dau. at Cawnpore, 2nd May.

Austen, Mrs. Fred. Lewis, of a dau. at Hyde Park-
square, 19th June.
Aylward, Mrs. A. F. of a dau. at Chesham Vicarage,

6th July.
Barlow, Mrs. wife of the late George Barne Barlow,

Esq. of a son, at Great George-street, Westmin-
ster, 19th June.
Beaumont, Mrs. John, of a dau. at West Hill,

Putney, 9th July.
Bedale, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Clapham New Park,

19th July.

Bell, Mrs. Jacob, of a dau. at Hull, 20th June.
Bergman, Mrs. John George, of a dau. at Formosa,

Cookham, Berks, l6th July.
Best, Mrs. H. P. of a son, at the Castle House,

Donnington, Newbury, 27th June.
Birchall, Mrs. wife of Win, H. Birchall, Esq. of a

son and heir at Burley Grange, Leeds, 18th July.
Black, Mrs. wife of Patrick Black, Esq. M.D. of a

son, in Bedford Square, 22nd June.
Blakesley, Mrs. of a son, at Ware Vicarage. Herts,

8th Julyc

Bogie, Mrs. of Rosemount, co. Ayr, of a son, 1st July.
Bonner, Mrs. Charles F. of a son, at Spaldin&r,

4th July.
Bowyer, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Wentworth Bowyer,

of a dau. at Edinburgh, 16th July.
Braithwaite, Mrs. Isaac, of Mechlenburgh Square,

of a sou, 18th July.

Bridgman, Mrs. Frances O. H. of a dau. at Mu-
nich, 29th June.
Bristow, Mrs. of a dau. at Brotmore Park, Wilts,

16th July.
Brown, Mrs. John, of a son, at Marlborough, Wilts,

18th June.
Bryant, Mrs. Walter, of a dau. at Bathurst-street,

13th July.
Brymer, Mrs. John, of a son, at Burgate House,

Hants, 1 6th July.
Butler, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Weeden Butler, of a

dau. at the Vicarage, Wickham-market, Suffolk,

13th July.
Butler, Mrs. Walter, of a dau. at Maida-hill, 20th

June.
Campbell, Mrs. Walter F. of Islay, of a dau. at

Edinburgh, 20th July.
Carey, Mrs. Adolphus F. of a son, at Burbage Hinck-

ley, co. Leicester, 18th July.
Cavendish, the Hon. Mrs. Richard, of a dau. 3rd

July.
Chapman, Mrs. George, of a son, at Arundel-street.

14th July.

Coape, Mrs. James, of a dau. at Mirables, Isle of

Wight, 1st July.
Clarke, Mrs. H. B. of St. John's Wood Road, of a

son, 30th June.
Collet, Mrs. wife of the Rev. W. Lloyd Collet, A.M.

of a dau. 3rd July.

Compton, Lady Wm. of a dau. 1st July.
Corbett, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Longnor Hall,

Salop, 1st July.
Cotton, Mrs. wife of the Rev. George Cotton, of a

son, at Rugby, 29th June.
Cox, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. M. Cox, of a son, 'at

East Stoke Rectory, l?th June.
Crokat, Mrs. Charles, of a dau. at Albion-street,

Hyde Park, 21st June.
Crowdy, Mrs. G. F. of a son, at Farringdon, 2nd

July.
Cumming- Gordon, Mrs. Alex. P. of Altyne, of a

son, loth June.
Dacres, Mrs. wife of Captain Sydney C. Dacres,

R. N. of a son, 17th July.
Dale, Mrs. wife of the Rev. H. Dale, of a dau. at

Blackheath, 4th July.

Dallas, the Hon. Lady, of a son, 14th July.
Dalrymple, Mrs. Elphinston, of a dau. at West

Hall, co. Aberdeen, 17th July.
Daniel, Mrs. wife of Dr. Wythe Daniel of Park

House, Southall, of a dau. 3rd July.
Day, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Newick Lodge, IQth

July.
Deane, Mrs. Francis Henry, of a dau. at Westborne

Villas, 4th July.
Dent, Mrs. Thomas of Hyde Park-terrace, of a dau.

9th July.

Donaldson, Mrs. W. Leverton, of a son, 15th July.
Echalaz, Mrs. Fred. A. of a dau. 12th July.
Eck, Mrs. F. A. of a dau. at Valparaiso, 15th Apl.
Edmunds, Mrs wife of E. Edmunds, jun., Esq. of

Bradford, Wilts, of a dau. 13th July.
Farquhar, Lady Mary, of a dau. 13th July.
Faulconer, Mrs. Thomas, of a dau. at Westbourne-

terrace, llth July.
Fletcher, Mrs. James, of a dau. at Chester Square.

29th June,
Forrest, Mrs- wife of James Archibald Forrest, Esq.

5th Fusileers, of a dau. 30th June.
Fowler, Mrs. wife of Lieut. G. C. Fowler, R.N. of

a son, at Woolwich, 21st July.
Francis, Mrs. S. R. Green, of a son, at Cranharn

Place, Easex, 19th July.

Frederick, Mrs. Major General, of a son, at Shaw-
ford, near Winchester, 15th July.
Freebaim, Mrs. J. C. of a son, atBoath near Naine,

14th June.
Freeman, Mrs. Williams, of a son, at Fawley Court,

20th June.
Gaije, the Hon. Mrs. of a dau. at Whitehall Yard,

9Jh July.
Gallini, Mrs. wife of A. Gallini, Esq. of a son at

Donnington Castle Cottage, 10th July.
Gamble, Mrs. wife of Dr. Gamble, of a son,' 2nd

July.

BIRTHS.

185

Giles, Mrs. James, of a son, at Haling Park, Croy

don, 17th July.
Gladstone, Mrs. William, of a dau, at Fitzroy-park,

Highgate. 17th July.
Godby, Mrs. wife of the Rev. C. H. Godby, 2nd

July.

Griffin, Mrs. Alfred, of a son, 2nd July.
Gunnel), Mrs. Burgess, of a son, at Hanwell, 8th

July.

Hamilton, the Lady Claude, of a dau., 3rd July.
Hamilton, Mrs. wife of the Rev. W. K. Hamilton,

M.A. of a son, 7th July.
Harden, Mrs. wife of the Rev. J. W. Harden, of a

dau. 23d June.

Harford, Mrs. C. R. jun., of a son. 18th June.
Haygarth, Mrs. J. S. of a son, at Redmaston Rec

tory, near Cirencester, 9th July.
Hewitt, Mrs. B. B. of a son at Weymouth-street,

22nd July.
Holden, Mrs. Edward A. of Aston Hall, co. Derby

of a son, 27th June.

Holden, the Hon. Mrs. Drury, of a son, 1st July.
Holland, Mrs, Henry Lancelot, of a dau. 5th July.
Hopper, Mrs. wife of the Rev. E. H. Hopper, of a

dau. at Old Windsor, 26th June.
Home, Mrs. H, of Montague Sq., of a son, 7th July.
Hughes, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Henry Hughes, of

a son, at Gordon Street, 21st July.
Irvine, Mrs. wife of Lt. Col. Irvine, C. B. of a son,

at Kensington, 2nd July.
Jenner, Mrs. Edward F. of a son, at Lowndes St.

25th June.
Johnson, Mrs. Henry, of a dau. at Woodford,

Essex, 19th July.

Jones, Mrs. D. of Pontglase and Penlar, co. Car-
marthen, of a dau. at Baden, 16th July.
Kennaway, Mrs. wife of the Rev. C. E. Kennaway,

of a son, 3rd July.

Kennedy, Mrs. Langford, of a son, 1st July.
King, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at New Cottage

Farm, near Potter's-bar, 17th July.
Kerby, Mrs. George Goldsmith, of a son, at Ken-
sington, 22d June.
Kuper, Mrs. the wife of Capt. Kuper. C.B. R.N. of

a son, 27th June.
Langmore, Mrs. wife of J. C. Langmore, M.B. of

a dau. 8th July.

Lee, Mrs. G. Maclean, of a dau. at Esher, 7th July.
Lee, Mrs. Valentine, of a son, 2nd June.
Lewis, Mrs. Edward, of a son, 15th July.
Lewis, Mrs. Henry, of a son and heir, at Pant-

gwynlas, co. Glamorgan, 21st July.
Little, Mrs. Thomas Selby, of a son, at Worcester,

17th July.
Lovett, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Robert Lovett, of a

dau. 19th July.
Macleane, Mrs. wife of the Rev. A. J. Macleane,

of a dau. at Brighton, 20th July.
Mansfield, Mrs. J. of a dau. at St. Mark's Parson-
age, Swindon, 3rd July.
Martin, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Chancellor Martin, of

twins, a son and a dau. the latter survived only a

short time, at the Close, Exeter, 5th July.
Marryatt, Mrs. Horace, of a son, at Hampton Court

Palace, 18th July.
Milward, Mrs. George, of a son,|at the Manor House,

Lechlade, 3d July.
Mitchell, Mrs. John, of Forcett Hall, co. York, of a

son and heir, 12th July.
Montrose, the Duchess of, of a son and heir, 22nd

June.
Murdoch, Mrs. wife of Clinton Murdoch, Esq. of a

dau. 6th July.
Newington, Mrs. wife of C. E. Hayes Newington,

M.D. of a son, 12th July.

Newton, Mrs. Charles, of a son and heir, at Dais-
ton, 25th June.
Noad, Mrs. David Innes, of a son, at Herne Hill,

12th July.
Norton, Mrs. Henry E. of a son, at Woburn Sq.

21st June.
Ogilvie, Jlrs. wife of G. M. Ogilvie, Esq. of a dau.

at Kensington Garden Terrace, gth July.

j Palmer, Mrs. J. Carrington, of a son, 7th July.
Peacock, Mrs. Anthony, of a son, at Ranceby Hall,

co. Lincoln, 13th July.

Pearse.Mrs. John, of a dau. at Dunstable, 2lst June.
Pennant, the Lady Louisa Douglas, of a dau. 13th

July.
Petley, Mrs. Charles R. C. of a dau. at Riverhead,

Seven Oaks, 15th July.
Peto, Mrs. S. Morton, of a dau. 26th June.
Phipps, Mrs. wife of Lt. Col. the Hon. C. B. Phipps,

of a son, 14th July.
Place, Mrs. wife of Lionel R. Place, Esq. R.N. of

a son, 10th July.

Playfair, Mrs. Lyon, of a dau. at Barnes, 8th July.
Plunkett, Mrs. James, of a son, at Tavistock Square,

6th July.
Ricardo, Mrs. Percy, of a dau. at Westborne Cres

cent, 24th June.
Robertson, Mrs. wife of Capt. J. E. Robertson,

6th Royal Regt., of a son. 24th June.
Robertson, Mrs. E. L. of a son, at Norfolk Cres-
cent, 24th June.

Robinson, Mrs. W. S. of a dau. at Dyrham Rec-
tory, Gloucestershire, llth July.
Russell, Mrs. wife of the Rev. A. B. Russell, of a

son, at the Vicarage, Wells, llth July.
Salt, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Joseph Salt, of a son,

at Standon Rectory, 29th June.
Saxton, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Highbury Park,

18th June.
Sheriff, Mrs. Francis, of a dau. at Calverley Park,

20th July.

Smith, Mrs. H. J. of a dau. at Worthing, igth July.
Smith, Mrs. D. Scott, of Devonshire-street, of a

dau. 19th July.
Smith, Mrs. Major, of a son, at Plympton Lodge,

13th July.
Smith, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Samuel Smith, of a

son, at Camberwell, 16th July.
Somerville, Mrs. James Curtis, of a dau. at Wells,

17th July.

Spriggs, Mrs. H. of a son, at Hornsey, 10th July.
Stephenson, Mrs. George Robert, of a dau. at Black-
heath Park, 15thJuiy.

Sumner, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Colbourne Rec-
tory, Isle of Wight, 25th June.
Swifte, Mrs. Edmund Leathol, of a dau. at the

Tower, 14th July.
Synnot, Mrs. Robert, of a dau. at Cadogan Terrace,

16th July.
Tait, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Dr. Tait, of a dau. at

Rugby, 20th June.
Tomkins, Mrs. Samuel, iun. of a son, at Albert-road,

Regent's Park, 20th July.
Torkington, Mrs. L. I. of a son, at Tunbridge

Wells, 20th July.
Tweedy, Mrs. John Newman, of a son, at Portu au

Prince, Hayti, 17th May.
Ullathorne, Mrs. G. Hutton, of a son, at Notting-

hill, 5th July.
Vigne, Mrs. wife of the Rev. Henry Vigne, of a dau.

at Sunbury Vicarage, 12th July.
Wake, Mrs.W. of a dau, at Southampton, 4th July.
Watson, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Wellingborough,

9th July.
Watson, Mrs. T. S. of a son, at Kcw Green, 4th

July.
Watt, Mrs. wife of Captain Watt, Bengal Cavalry,

of a dau. at Lea, Kent, 23rd June.
Watts, Mrs. Richard, of a dau. at-Langford Vicar-
age, Lechlade, 22nd July.
Willink, Mrs. W. W. of a son, at Barntley, near

Liverpool, 10th July.
Wood, Mrs. W. Charles, of a son, at Fiddington

House, near Devizes, 23d June.
Wroughton, Mrs. Philip, of a son, at Ibstone House,

19th July.
Wyllie, Mrs. John, of a son, at Fulham, 10th

July.
Yonge, Mrs. wife of Captain Gustavus Yonge, 2nd

Queen's Royals, of a son, 14th July.
Young, Mrs. James H. of a dau. at Lee, Kent,

20th July.

p 2

1S6

Alcock, Joseph Locker, Esq.,reldest son of Samuel
AJoork, Esq., of Elder-house, Cobridge, Stafford
shire, to Susannah, eldest daughter of the late
William Burbridge, Esq., of Hatton-garden,
London, 24th June.

Anderson, W. D., Esq., of Sherrington, Wilts, to
Marianne, eldest daughter of the late Rev. Thos.
Harrison, incumbent of Holy Trinity, White-
haven, and rector of Corney, Cumberland, 8th July.

Andrews, Stanley, Esq., of St. Paul's-p ace, Isling-
ton, to Louisa, youngest daughter of the late J.
D. Welch, Esq., of Holyfield, Essex, l6th June.

Arkwright, the Rev, Henry, to Ellen Home Purves,
daughter of the late Viscountess Canterbury, 1st
July.

Bailey, Edward, eldest son of Edward Savage
Bailey, Esq., of Berners-street, to Maria, second
daughter of James Coles, Esq., of Old-park,
Clapiiam-common, 24th June.

Baiss, James, Esq., of Champion-hill, Camber-
well, to Ann, fourth daughter of Benjamin Stand-
rinpr, Esq., of theMinories, 1st July.

Barker, Bradshaw, Esq., youngest son of the
late John Barker, Esq., of Langshaw, Dum-
friesshire, North Britain, to Rebekah Maria,
eldest daughter of Colonel R. E. Burrows, K.H.,
Blackwell-'house, Somersetshire, 20th July.

Barker, John, Esq., of Langshaw, Dumfriesshire,
of the Madras Medical Service, to Isabella Hutch-
inson, daughter of the late Major Campbell, of
Walton -park, H.E.I.C.S , 22nd June.

Barker, Joseph, Esq., of Coleshill, Warwickshire,
to Harriet, youngest daughter of fhe late Edward
Woolls, Esq., of Winchester, 8th July.

Barnard, Henry, eldest son of the late William
Barnard, Esq., of Kennington, to Elizabeth
Jane, eldest daughter of the late Captain Henry
Hamby, i;th July.

Barnes, ' Robert, M.B., of Park-road, Notting-
hill, and Glocester-terrace, Hyde-park, to Eliza,

. eldest daughter of John Fawkener, Esq., of
Norland- place, Notting-hill, IQth June.

Bathe, U'illiain P., Esq., of 12, South-street
London, to Ann Maria, eldest daughter of the
late David Cameron, Esq., of Northaw-place,
Herts, 22nd June.

Beckwith, Wm. Andrews, Esq., of Wells, Somer-
set, to Mary Ann, youngest daughter of the late
James Baker, Esq., or Creeksea-place, Essex
13th July.

Benson, Samuel, fourth son of Rev. J.Benson, rector
of Norton, Somerset, to Philippa, Tyoungest dau.
of James Bourne, of Somerset street, Portman-
square, 29th June.

Berriedale, Lord, son of the Earl of Caithness, to
Louisa Georgiana, youngest daughter of G. R.
Phillips, Esq., M.P., and the Hon. Mrs. Phil-
lips, 10th July.

Blake, the Rev. Henry Bunbury, eldest son of Sir
Henry BlaUe, Bart., of Langham, Suffolk, to
Frances Marian, only daughter of Henry James
Oakes, Esq., of Nowton-court, and High Sheriff
of the county of Suffolk, 1st July.

Bligu, Richard, Esq., eldest son of" the late Richard
Biigh, Esq., barrister of the Inner Temple, and
grandson of the late Admiral Wm. Biigh, to
Maria Isabella, daughter of the late Captain
Fennell, Aide-de-Carnp to Sir Thomas Brisbane
Bart., then Governor of New South Wales, l6tl
Feb.

Blundell, Mr. Henry Caslon, of the Commissariat
third son of Thomas Leigh Blundell, M-D., of
39, Lombard-street, to Elizibeth, daughter of
Joseph Taylor, Esq., of Port Frances, 28th April.

Bond, Edward AugustusJE^q., to Caroline Frances,
daughter of the late Rev. il. II. Barhain, rector
of St. Faith's, London, loth July.

Bowdoin, James Temple, Esq., late Captain of the
4th (Royal Iri^h) Dragoon Guards, only son of the
late James Temple Bowdoin, Esq., and grandson
of Sir John Temple, Bart., to Elizabeth, third
daughter of Sir William Clay, Bart., M.P., of
Fulwell-lodge, in the county of Middlesex, 26th
June.

Bradley, the Rev. Edward, of Brighton, to Sarah,
the youngest daughter of Mr. John Torey, of
Gibson-square, Islington, 25th June.

Buckingham, Wm., Esq., of Exeter, to Elizabeth
Heath, third daughter of the late John Herman
Merivale, Esq., 24th June.

Burrowes, John, third son of the late Thomas
Burrowes, Esq., of Limehouse, to Funny, fourth
daughter of Charles Rich. Nelson, Esq., of
Twickenham-common, Middlesex, 14th July.

Campbell, Captain Colin Yorke, R.N., eldest son
of Rear-Admiral D. Campbell, of Barbreck,
Argyleshire, to Elizabeth, second daughter of
James Hyde, Esq., of Apley, Isle of Wight, 1st
July.

Champ, Charles, Esq., of Camden-road-villas,
Camden New-town, to Eliza, youngest daughter
of the late C. Wooifrey, Esq., of Lulworth,
Dorsetshire, 23rd June.

Champion, Henry, youngest son of the late Chan.
Champion, Esq., of Blyth, Notts, to Miss Rogers
of Ranley-house, near Retford, Notts, 10th July,

Champneys. the Rev. Dr., head-master of the Col.
legiate School, Glasgow, to Sarah Leake, eldest
daughter of the late Rev. T. H. Walpole, vicar
of Wii.slow, Bucks, 15th July.

Chapman, Wm. Danie, Esq., youngest son of Wm.
Chapman, Esq., of Newcasile-on-Tyne, to Janet,
fifth surviving daughter of the Rev. H. T. Hare,
of Ducking-hall, Norfolk, 8th July.

Charles, Robert, eldest son of Robert Charles,
E-q., of Endsleigh-terrace, Tavistock-square, to
Henrietta Keddey, daughter of Joseph Fletcher,
Esq., of Union-dock, Limehouse, 29th June.

Colgrave, Francis Edward, son of Wm. Col grave,
Esq., of Bryanston-square, London, and Brace-
bridge and Mere-hall, Lincolnshire, to Mary
Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Robert Bruce
Chichester, Esq., of Lower Seymour-street, Port-
man-square, and niece of Sir Bruce Chichester,
Bart., of Arlington-court, Devon.

Collin, Count du, Baron de Barizien, Viscount de
Cury, to the Countess Cofmar, daughter of his
Royal Highness the Duke of Brunswick, 10th
July.

Comins, Richard, Esq., of Tiverton, to Catherine
Mack, youngest daughter of John Shuckburgh
How, Esq., of the Lodge, near Tiverton, 24th June.

Cooper, Wm., jun., Esq., of Upper Holloway, to
Catherine, second daughter of James Simms,
Esq., of Haslemere, Surrey, 14th June.

Colter, Pownoll Pellow, Esq., R.N., to^ Harriett
Emma, second daughter of the late John Haile,
ESI]., Paymaster and Purser, R.N., of Albany-
road, Camberwell, 20th July.

Davenport, Sam. Skurray, Esq., of Bahia, to Anna
Cecilia, eldest daughter of Frederick Grigg, Esq.,
late of Rio de Janeiro, 30th June.

Deane, Joseph, late Captain Carabineers, son of the
late W. Browne, Esq., and the Lady Charlotte, of
Browne's-hill, Carlow, to Georgiana Charlotte,
only child of the late Lieut.-Coi. Thursby, of the
53rd Regiment, 23rd June.

Dolan, Henry, Esq., of Isleworth, to Anne Con-

MARRIAGES.

137

stuntia, daughter of John Rees, Esq., of Melbury-f Hatf on, George Sydney, Esq., Albert-villas, St.

terrace, Hare wood-square, 7th July. j John's, Fuluam, to Anne, second daughter of

Domviile, the Rev. David Edward, M.A., of Se- Henry Wilkinson, Esq., Bromptou-square, 1/ta

mington, Wiltshire, to Mary Jane, daughter of July.

Ewen Stabb, Esq., of the Retreat, South Lam- Healey, George, of Watford, to Elizabeth Whitting-

beth, 13th July. | stall, only daughter of John Beaumont, Esq., of

Drake, John, Esq., of Regent's-park, to Eliza,! St. Alban's, 24th June.

^i i_i_ T 1 ll_ll M ,.,-.,.., T.1^ 1 T?

youngest daughter of the late John Belli- my,
Esq., of Wobern-square, 1st July.

Driffield, Charles Edward, of Prescot, solicitor, to
Margaret, youngest daughter of the late Peter
Millett, Esq., of Prescot, 6th July.

Dunn, Richard Marsh, Esq., eldest son of Captain
James C. Dunn, Royai Navy, to Eliza Helen
yonnarer daughter of James Bower, Esq., of
Weymouth and Me!comb Regis, 20th July.

Dunne, Charles Augustus, third sou of the late
Simon Dunne, Esq., R N., commander of her
Majesty's cruiser, Castle Coote, to Maria, eldest
rlausrlifer of the late Mr. Thomas Dyson, oi
London, 21st June.

Dutt.n, Wm. Quinton, Esq , of Twickenham, to
Mary Ann, eldest daughter of Wm. Dutton, Esq
of Hampton, Oxfordshire, 16th June.

Eastwick, Edward B., Esq., of Haleybury, to
Rusina Jane, only surviving daughter of the late
Jiunes Hunter Esq., of Hafton, 25tL June.

JM'vatdes, John, Esq., youngest son of Vincent
Edwardes, Esq , of Farmcote, Staffordshire, to
Jemima, daughter of the late Rev. John Marten
Butt, M.A., vicar of East Garston, Berks, 26th
June.

Hounslow, to Caroline, youngest daughter of
Robert Tench, Esq., of Ludlow, 30th June.

Erwin, Alfred Stevens, Esq., of Bognor, to Emily
Maitland, second daughter of Capt. Addison,
H.E.I.C.S., 29th June.

Fisher, the Rev. Robert Bailey, vicar of Basildon,
to Louisa, third daughter of the late Isaac Currie,
Esq.. of Bush-hill, Middlesex, 21st July.

Henderson, Edward, Esq., of the Bombay Military
Service, second son of John P. Henderson, Esq.
of Manchester-square, to Judith Hutton, eldest
daughter of the late Dr. Wm. Cookson, M.D.,
of Lincoln, 17th July.

Hinde, Wm. Esq., of'Cleobury Mortimer, Salop,
to Mary Frances, second daughter of Thomas
Williams, Esq., of Warfield- lodge, Berks, and of
Adelaide, South Australia, 8th July.

Hockin, John, Esq., of Dominica, third son of tLe
Rev. Win. Hockin, rector of Philiack, Cornwall,
to Mary, second daughter of Wm. Hickeas, E.-q.,
of Camberwell -grove, 24th June.

Hodgson, the Rev. O. A., minor canon of Win-
chester Cathedral, to Eleanor Lucy, second
daughter of Wm. Mitchell, Esq., of Pctersfidd,
1st July.

Hore, Lieutenant E. G., second son of the late
Captain Hore, R.N., of Pole-Hore, in the c;U'i!y
of Wexford, Ireland, to Maria, second <iuu^hu;r
of Lieut. -Col. Reid, Governor of the Wii.dward
Islands, 17th June.

Huggins, Edward, Esq., of Bellina-villa, Kentish-
town, to Ellen, eldest daughter of John Meacock,
Esq., of Little Baling, 2nd July.

nmott, Christopher Browning:, Esq., M.D., of Hughes, the Rev. John Young, B. A., to Justina

Mercy, only child of Richard Rhodes, Esq., of
Greenwich, 15th July.

Inglefield, S. H. S., Lieutenant Royal Artillery,
second son of Rear-Admiral Inglefield, C.B ,
Commander-in-Chief of the East India and China
Station, to Charlotte, youngest daughter of the
late Colonel Coore, of Scrutton-hall, in the same
county, 28th June.

Frost, Thomas, Esq., Gravel-pits, Shere, Surrey, to Illingworth, the Rev. Edward, M,A., of Edgbaston,

Julia Caroline, third daughter of Captain Pyner,
East Sandfield-house, Guildford, 8th June.

Gard iner, James Spalding, Esq., of Manor-house,
Great Wymondly, Herts, to Mary Ann, only
child of the late George and Mary Ann Haywood,
ami granddaughter of the late Wm. Porthouse,
Esq., of Balham-hill, Surrey, 19th June.

Gel!, Inigo, son of Francis Harding Gell, Esq..
cot oner for the county of Sussex, to Anne, dau.
of Edward Prichard, Esq., banker, Ross, 6th July.

Gtsrney, Francis Hay, eldest son of Daniel Gurney,
E*q., of North Runcton, and the late Lady
Harriet Gurney, to Margaret Charlotte, eldest
daughter of Sir Wm. Browne Folkes, Bart., 8th
July.

Hal head, Francis, of the Middle Temple, Esq.,
son of the late John Halhead, Esq., of Yately-
house, Hants, to Mary Anne, daughter of the
-late James Powell, Esq., of Clapton-house, Mid-
dlesex, 1st July.

Hammet, James Palmer Francis, eldest son of the
late James Esdaile Hammet, Esq., to Jocosa
Jane, second daughter of Swynfen Jervis, Esq.,
of Whitehall-place, and Darlaston-hall, Stafford-
shire, 1st July,

Hammond, Charles Eaton, Esq., banker, of New-
market, to Emily Law Wilson, second daughter
of the Rev Plumpton Wilson, vicar of Thorpe,
Arnold, 1st July.

Hammond, the Rev. Egerton Douglas, second son
of Wm. Osmond Hammond, Esq., of St. Alban'«-
couit, Kent, to Elizabeth Katherine, elder dau.
of Robert Whitmore, Esq., of Portland-place,
London, 6th July.

Hartley, the Rev. Wm. Samuel, B.A., vicar of
Laughton, Yorkshire, to Elizabeth, youngest
daughter of the Rev. Henry Boyce, M.A., of
the Abbey-road, St. John's-wood, 1st July.

Hdrwood, James, Esq., to Charlotte, youngest
daughter of the late John Tray ton Fuller, Esq.,
of Ashdown-house, in the county of Sussex, 13th
July.

only son of A. Illingworth, Esq., surgeon, R.N.,
of Fowey, Cornwall, to Louisa, daughter of the
late Dr. Percy, of Bedworth-hall, Warwickshire,
and- niece of Miss Piercy, of Priory-place,
Edibaston, 17th June.

Jackson, Henry, Esq., of St. Helen 's-place, Lon-
don, to Emily, daughter of the late David Came-
ron, Esq., of 'Northaw-place, Herts, 15th July.

Janson, Henry, Esq, of Clapton-terrace, to
Caroline, only daughter of the late Thos. Home
Janson, Esq., of Hurstperpoint.

Jones, Alban Thomas, Esq., of Bilboa, to Marie
Margarita de Ynchaustegui, of Aibia, Biscav,
23rd June.

Key, John Binny, Esq., of the firm of Binny and
Co., Madras, to Annabella Homeria, vm:"ow of
the late John Harcourt, Esq. surgeon H.ftJ.S.
and eldest daughter of Major- General Sir George
Pollock, G.C.B. 27th Feb.

Knipe, George Marshall, Esq., S.Qth regt. , second
son of G. M. Knipe, Esq., of Belturbet, county
of Cavan, to Jessie Maria, daughter of the late
Sir Simon Howard, of Carlisle, many years Pie
sideut of the Medical Board at Madras, 20th
July.

Kynvett, Frederic, Esq., Captain, Madras Army,
to Laura Frances, second daughter of the late
Major d'Arley, 28th June.

Lambert, Benjamin, second son of Daniel Lam-
bert, Esq., of Banstead, to Margaret Anne, eld.
daughter of P. N. Tomlins, Esq., of Pain-
ter's-hall, London, and Dulwich, Surrey, lOtli
July.

Landon, the Rev. James T. B., M.A., Fellow of
Magdalen College, Oxford, to Sarah, second duu.
of the late Francis Watt, Esq., of Beveriev,
Yorkshire, 13th July.

Langton, W. F., Esq., of Bryfield, county of Devon,
to Ellen Laura Elizabeth, third daughter of t!:e
late Lieutenant Colonel Shakleworth, of Lea
Grange. 15th July.

Last, Charles Henry, Esq., of Hadleigh, Suffolk, t

188

MARRIAGES.

Louisa, youngest daughter of the late Rev. Job
Marple Wallace, rector of Great Braxted, Essex,
14th July.

Leckie, Charles Taylor, Esq., Royal Nayy, to Eli
zabeth Binning, second daughter of Major Shairp,
of Houstoun, l6th June.

Lloyd, Francis, Esq., Beaufort-lodge, Chelsea, to
Marian Sadler, eldest daughter of the late Edw.
Sadler, Esq., of Sutton Coldfield, Warwickshire,
22nd June.

Lomas, Holland, eldest son of George Lomas, Esq.
of Birch-hall, Lancashire, to Nony Hardy, second
daughter of Samuel Johnston, Esq., of Olinda
Liscard, Cheshire, 22d June.

Low, Archibald M'Arthur, Esq., of Chancery-lane,
London, solicitor, to Caroline Anne, eldest dau.
of George Hewlett, Esq., of Kniller's-court,
near Fareham, 10th July.

Lucas, Richard Bland, of South Audley-street, to
Eliza, daughter of Mr. Richard Edwards, of
Batshanger, in the county of Kent, 17th June.

Lupton, Francis,- Esq., of Leeds, to Frances Eliza-
beth, only daughter of T. M. Greenhow, Esq.,
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1st July.

Luscombe, J. H., Esq., of Forest-hill, Sydenham,
to Clara, eldest daughter of James Bristow, Esq ,
of Ifield-court, in the county of Sussex, 22d
July.

Lyte, John Walter Maxwell, of Berry Head, Devon,
to Emily Jeannette, eldest daughter of the late
Colonel Craigie, Bengal Army, 24th June.

MacDonnell, Richard Graves, L.L.D., eldest son of
the Rev. Dr. MacDonnell. Senior Fellow of
Trinity College, Dublin, to Blanche Anne, third
daught»r of Francis Skurray, Esq., of Brunswick-
square, Brighton, 10th July.

Maddock, William, Esq., of Liverpool, to Eliza-
beth, second daughter of the Rev. Edward Whit-
ley, of Wandsworth, 23rd May.

Marke, Sedley Bastard, Esq., of Liskeard, in the
county of Cornwall, and of the Crescent, Ply-
mouth, to Ann Eliza, eldest daughter of the Rev.
Henry Addington Simcoe, of Penheale, Corn-
wall, and granddaughter of the late Lieutenant-
General Simcoe, of Wolford-lodge, Devon, 22d
June.

Meadows, the Rev. J. C., M.A., only son of the
late Lieutenant-Colonel Meadows, 15th Regi-
ment, and grandson of the Very Rev. Dr. Duppe",
formerly Dean of Jersey, to Isabella, second dau.
of Captain Edward Sutherland, the Royal Hos-
pital, Chelsea, 14th July.

Mecham, Maunsell, Esq., to Harriett Fairfax, relict
of Edward Fairfax, Esq., R.N., 15th July.

Mercer, Arthur Hill Hasted, Esq., 60th King's
Royal Rifles, son of Colonel Mercer, R.M., Com
mandant, Plymouth, to Elizabeth Anne, daugh-
ter of the late Major Robert Hutchinson Ord,
R.A., K.H., a Deputy- Lieutenant for the county
of Essex, 10th July.

Merest, James Drage, Esq., of the Abbey, Bury St.
Edmund's, Suffolk, to Maria Billington, third
daughter of the late William Hawes, Esq., of the
Adelphi terrace, London, IQth July.

Miles, Geo., Esq., of Lee, Kent, to Fanny, youngest
daughter of the late Edward Augustus Gilbons,
Esq., of the Wandsworth road, 1st July.

Miller, Arthur Octavius, son ol the late Richard
Miller, Esq., of Kensington-lodge, Harrow, to
Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Lieutenant W. L.
Brake, R.N., of the Priory, Wandswortb-road,
22d July.

Mitchison, William Anthony, Esq., of Sunbury, to
Harriett Jane Stovin, daughter of Richard Stovin
Maw, Esq., of Ashford-house, Middlesex, and of
Withern, Lincolnshire, 1st July.

Moffatt, Cornelius William. Esq., M.A., of the
Middle Temple, son of William Moffatt, Esq.,
of Weymouth, to Catherine, second daughter of
the late R. F. Roberts, Esq., of Burton Brad-
stock, Dorset, 30th June.

Mogrid*e, John, Esq., of Sinxonsbath, Devonshire,
to Mary Ann, younger daughter of the late Mr.

William Bowley, of Bishopsgate street, 17th
June.

Murray, John, Esq., of Albemarle-street, London,
to Marion, third daughter of the late Alexander
Smith, Esq., of Edinburgh, 6th July.

Napier, John Moore, only son of Major-General
Win. Napier, C.B., to Bessie Henrietta, youngest
daughter of Major Charles Alexander, R. E., 22nd
June.

Norton, Thomas, Esq., of Shrewsbury, only son of
Francis Ceilings Norton, Esq., to Ellen, only
child of the late George Humphreys, Esq., of
Newport, Shropshire, 2Qth June.

Nunes, John, Esq., of Croydon, to Grace Isabella
Le Neve, eldest daughter of the late Peter Le
Neve Forster, Esq., of Lenwade, Norfolk, 22nd
July.

Ord, Mark, Esq., of Hurworth-grange, to Eliza-
beth Dixon, daughter of T. D. Walker, Esq., of
Hurworth, 1st July.

Palmer, Captain N. H., of the Emerald Isle, second
son of Nathaniel Palmer, Esq., Recorder of
Great Yarmouth, to Martha Mealing, eldest dau.
of Robert Mills, Esq., of that city, 8th July.

Parker, Charles Abraham, eldest ton of George
Parker, Esq., Church-hill-house, Handsworth,
Staffordshire, to Fanny, eldest daughter of Grif-
feth Briscoe.Esq., Doncaster, and granddaughter
of the late Robert Tomlin, Esq., of Edith Wes-
ton, Rutland, 7th July.

Phillips, Barnet S., Esq., of Chester-terrace, Re-
gent's-park, to Philippa, daughter of Phillip
Samuel, Esq., of Bedford- place, 2Qth June.

Pinney, Francis, , Esq., of Tyndwr Llangollen, to
Dorothy, fourth daughter of Henry Gisby, Esq.,
of Hollycurdane, Thanet, 28Ch June.

Plowden, Charles, Esq., of Florence, to Anne Eliza,
daughter of the late George Bryan, Esq., of
Jenkinstown, county of Kilkenny, 12th July.

Quicke, John, Esq., eldest son of John Quicke,
Esq., of Newton St. Cyres, in the county of
Devon, to Mary Elizabeth, only daughter of the
late Thomas Wentworth Gould, Esq., of Bath-
ealton-court, Somerset, 24th June.

Randolph, the Rev. William, third son of the Rev.
Herbert Randolph, late rector of Letcombe Bas-
sett, Berks, to Anne, the widow of the Rev. Ed-
mund Burke Lewis, late rector of Toddington,
Bedfordshire, 2Qth June.

Reece, Robert, Esq., jun. of Exeter College, Ox-
ford and of the Inner Temple, to Louisa, eldest
daughter of Joseph Kirkman, Esq., Igth July.

Reynolds, Charles William, Esq., late Captain in
the 16th Lancers, to Charlotte Mary, only dau.
of the Rev. R. P. Butler, 24th June.

Robinson, the Rev. Gilbert William, M.A., incum-
bent of Walmley, Warwickshire, to Frances
Sarah, youngest surviving daughter of the late
Michael Russell, Esq. of Wimbledon, 14th July.

Routh, Edward, Esq. of Blackheath, to Elizabeth
Skardon Taylor, only daughter of the late Wil-
liam Cress Taylor, Esq., of Blackheath, 26th
June.

Rowland, George, Esq., of Holly-lodge, Heacham,
Norfolk, to Eliza, third daughter of the late Rev.
James Wright, rector of East Harling and Hin-
derclay, in the same county, 19th June.

Saunders, Edward, Esq., 2nd Dragoon Guards,
youngest son of Richard Saunders, Esq. of
Largey, county of Cavan, to Caroline, second
daughter of John Weldale Knollys, Esq. of Read-
ing, Berks, 29th June.

Scholey, Alfred, second son of George Scholey,
Esq., to Fanny, second daughter of George
Baker, Esq., both of Westbourne-terrace, Hyde-
park, 22»d July.

Scholfield, Henry Daniel, M.D., of Birkenhead, to
Myra Caroline, only daughter of the late James
Taylor, Esq., Bombay Civil Service, and grand-
daughter of the late Major-General R. Lewis,
15th July.

Hercombe, Rupert C, Esq., of Carlton - villas,
Maida-vale, to Louisa, third daughter of William

MARRIAGES.

189

Henrj Smith, Esq., of Kilburn house, Middlesex

15th July.
Shruhsole, John,

youngest son of William

Shrubsole, Esq., to Sarah Alicia Eliza, eldes
daughter of C. J. Fenner, Esq., of Hampton
wick, Middlesex, 8th July.

Simmons, Lieutenant- Colonel, C.B., late of the Watson, the Rev. Thomas M.A., of Caius Col-

41st Regiment, to Frances, relict of Alexander

Munro, of Trinidad, and eldest daughter of J

Townshend Pasea, of Streatham-lodge, 8th July.
Skinner, Captain H., of the Nizam's Cavalry, to

Rose Ann, eldest daughter of Samuel Cardozo,

Esq., of Redruth, Cornwall, 12th July.
Slous, Angiolo Robson, Esq., to Emily, youngest

daughter of John Sherborn, Esq., of Ladbroke-

square, 6th July.
Smith, Willia-n, Esq., of Blandford, to Sophia,

eldest daughter of the late John Whittle, Esq.,

15th June.
Smith, William Hornsby, eldest son of the late

Charles Smith, of Milton next Sittingbourne,

Kent, to Bridget Lavinia Cottenburgh, daughter

of the late John Llanwarne, Esq., and Mrs.

Lynch, of Somerset-street, Portman square, 20th

July.
Stafford, William Jones, Esq., of Liverpool, to

Sophia Farrington, only daughter of the late

Dr. Nagle, R.N., 23rd May.
Street, James, C., Esq. of Milton-street, Dorset-

Barkshire Street, Esq., Chichester, Sussex, to
Bessie, eldest daughter of the late George Smith,
Esq., of Salisbury, 7th July.

Taylor, Skinner, Esq., eldest son of the late Wm.
Taylor, Esq., of Brixton-place, in the county of
Surrey, to Anne Jenner Buss, of Maidstone, in
the county of Kent, spinster, 10th July.

Tillard, the; Rev. Richard H., of St. John's Col-

Waller, James, Esq. of Luton.to Eliza, eldest dau.

of Joseph King Blundell, Esq., of the same

place, 21st July. ,

Ware, Samuel, Esq., of Fitzroy-square, to Isabella,

second daughter of the late Lancelot Hare, M.D.

of Upper Gower-street, 1st July.

lege, Cambridge, and assistant chaplain in the
Hon. East India Company's Service, to Caro-
line, third daughter of the late Francis Gibbes,
Esq., of Harewood, 8th July.

Watson, John, Esq., of Trinity Hall, Cambridge,
younger son of the late Richard Watson, Esq.,
of Lutterworth, in the county of Leicester, to
Anne, second daughter of Charles Blayney Trevor
Roper, Esq., of Plas Teg-park, in the county of
Flint, 2-lth June.

Weller, Charles Grainger, Esq., son of Captain
Weller of Leisham, to Lucy Harriett, eldest dau.
of William Mellet Hollis, Esq., of the same place,
15th July.

Whitworth, the Rev. T., rector of Addlethorpe, and
vicar of Thorpe, Lincolnshire, to Emma, young-
est daughter of the late John Pulley, Esq., of
Bedford, 17th June,

Wilkinson, Alexander, fourth son of the late James
Wilkinson, Esq., of Leadenhall-street, to Caro-
line Stewart, only daughter of the late John
Lamb, Esq., of Edinburgh, 17th July

square, London, eldest son of the late James Wilians, O., Esq., jun., of Askitt-hill, Roundhay

near Leeds, to Elizabeth, eldest daughter of
William Tetley, Esq., of Asenby - lodge, near
Thirsk, 14th July.

Willes, Charles Thomas, Esq., fourth son of the
late Rev. Wm. Snippen Willes, of Astrop house,
county of Northampton, to Mary Patience, second
daughter of the Rev. Henry Wise, of Off church,
and the Priory, Warwick, 20th July.

lege, Cambridge, to Anna, second daughter of Willock, the Rev. Charles Wm., of Balliol College,
the Rev. Joseph Cotterill, rector of Blakeney, Oxford, son of the late A. C. Willock, Esq.,

Royal Artillery, to Maria, daughter of Richard
Gosiing, Esq., of North Cray, 23rd June.

24th June.
Towgood, John, Esq., of Chancery-lane, barrister-

at-law, to Mary Philips, daughter of Mr. Robert
Rickards, of Chiswell-street, Finsbury- square,
8th July.

Vaimer, Charles Auguste Pinon Duclose de, only
son of the Vicomte de Vaimer, of La Barre,
France, and of Ozleworth-park, Gloucestershire,
to Julia Eliza, only child of Thomas JBurslem,

f Esq., and step daughter of Benjamin Jackson,
late of Youghal, 21st July.

Varden, Richard, Esq., Civil Engineer, of Worces-
ter, to IClizabeth Susannah, only daughter of T.
P. Medwin. Esq., of Stourbridge, 8th July.

Villiers W. G. Villiers, eldest son of the late G.
W. Villiers Villiers, to Norah Frances Sheridan
Power, youngest daughter of the late Tyrone
Power, Esq., 30th June.

Wilts, the Venerable the Archdeacon of, to Frances
Laura, daughter ^of the late W. Dawson, Esq.,
of Wakefield, Yorkshire, 20th July.

Wolley, William F., Esq., to Jane, eldest daughter
of the late Henry Coape, Esq., 21st June.

Wright, Edward, Esq., of Kennington, only son of
Charles Wright, Esq., to Rose Mary, youngest
daughter of Thomas Trew, Esq., of Woburn-
place, and Newark-house, St. Peter's, Thanet,
17th July.

Yates, William, Esq., of Lincoln's-inn, to Mary
Cowlard, eldest surviving daughter of the late
James Arundell, Esq., and niece of the late
William Whitton, Esq., of Stonewall, Kent, 1st
July.

^miotatcfc

Alexander, Louisa Augusta, daughter of thej
late Lesley Alexander, Esq. of Newtown
Limvaddy, co. Londonderry, at Neuwied,
on the Rhine, 26th June.

Allan, Captain Robert, formerly of Calcutta,
at No. 47, Brompton crescent, in the 60th
year of his age, 30th June.

Alston, Mrs. James, of Bryanston square,
1st July.

Anderton, Lieutenant W. F. of the 9th
Lancers, eldest son of Captain Anderton,
late of the 1st Life Guards, on board the
Glendaragh, on his passage from Calcutta
to England, 16th March.

Askew, Lieut.-General Sir Henry, C.B.
This gallant officer died on the 25th June,
at Cologne, in his 73rd year, having bet n
born 7th May, 1775. He was third son,

190

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

l>y Bridget, his wife, daughter and heiress
of John Watson, Esq. of Goswick, co.
Durham, of the late John Askew, Eeq
of Pallinsburn, fourth son of Dr. Adam
Askew, of Storrs Hall, and succeeded to
the representation of this branch of the
Askews of Redheugh, co. Durham, on the
decease of his elder brother in 1838. Sir
Henry entered the army, as Ensign in the
1st Foot, in 1793, and served in Holland
and Flanders, Sicily, the Mediterranean,
the Expedition to Walchercn in 1809;
and in the Peninsula and South of France
from 1812 to 1814. He participated in
the brilliant operations of 1815, was
•wounded at Quatre Bras, and received a
Waterloo Medal, as well as one for
services at Nive. He was knighted in
1 821, and attained the rank of Lieut enanj-
General in 1837.

Aspinall, James, Esq. This highly respect
able gentleman was a member of the Cor
poration of Liverpool, and had filled the
office of Mayor of that important town

He was also a magistrate for the county
of Lancaster. The death of Mr. Aspinal
was awfully sudden. While in Vauxhal
Gardens on the night of Thursday the
17th June, with a party of friends, he fel
down and at once expired. The cause
was apoplexy, brought on no doubt ty
his excessive corpulency. Mr. Aspinall
though only forty-two years of age at hi
decease, weighed 21, stone.
Badderston, Elizabeth, relict of Thoma
Francis Badderston, Esq. late of Baddon
Lodge, Essex, aged 50. 26th June.
Baker, Louisa, second daughter of the lat
Sir Robert Baker, Bart, of Dunstab!
house, Richmond, Surrey, aged 54, 20tl
July.

Barclay, Louisa, youngest dau. of Rober
Barclay, Esq. of Lombard street, banker
at Leyton, Essex, aged 13, 4fh July.
Barlow, Capt. Frederick, late of the 61s

Regiment, aged 37, 8th July.
Barton, Anne, wife of James Barton, Esq.
of Buenos Ayres, South America, and
daughter of the late John Mackinlay,
Esq. at Edge-hill, Liverpool, 6th July/
Barwise, Lieut. John, Madras Artillery, at

Octacamund, aged 23, 15th May.
Bazalgette, Frances, widow of L. Bazalgette,
Esq. late of Eastwick-park, co. Surrey,
at her residence in Gloucester - place,
Portman square, in her 79th year, 3rd
July.

Bedwell, Percivnl, Esq. of the Registrar's-
office of the High Court of Chancery,
suddenly, aged 38, 29th July.
Bell.George Joseph, M.B. Balliol; K.C.L.S.
Radcliff travelling fellow of Oxford ; and
Physician to Her Majesty's Mission in
Persia ; second son of the late Professor
George Joseph Bell, of Edinburgh, at

Erzeroom, on his way from Persia, in the
34th year of his age, 20th May.

5ennett,Mary, the wife of Charles Bennett,
at Stanhope-lodge, Hyde-park, in her
74th year, 22nd June.

5erney, Miss, only daughter of Thomas
and Elizabeth Berney, formerly of Bracon
Ash, Norfolk, at Bracon-hall, 25th June.
Bingley, Robert, Esq. F.R.S. at Highara
Lodge, Woodford, Essex, aged 82, 17th
July.

Mshop, Deputy- Assistant-Commissary-Gen-
eral Alfred, second son of Sir Henry
Bishop, at Bermullet, co. Mayo, Ireland,
of fever, 17th June.

31and. Judith Selina, daughter of the late
T. D. Bland, Esq. of Kippax-park, at
Hundhill. near Pontefract, 16th July.

Blunt, Sir Walter, Bart. 13th July.

Bouchette, Adelaide, relict of the late
Colonel Bouchette, Her Majesty's Sur-
veyor-General of the province, at Mon-
treal, Canada, 10th June.

Boulton, Hugh William, Esq. of the 1st

Life Guards, second son of the late Mat-
thew Robinson Boulton, Esq. of Soho,
Staffordshire, and Tew-park, Oxfordshire,
aged 25, 18th July.

Bouverie, Charles, only son of the late
Charles Henry Bouverie, Esq. of Oxford-
house, Great Marlow, at Islington, aged
23, 9th July.

Brabazon, William John, Esq. of Brabazon-
park, Mayo, died recently at Malta. Mr.
Brabazon was elder son of Hercules
Sharpe, Esq. of Oaklands, Sussex, by
Anne Mary his wife, eldestr daughter of
the late Sir Anthony Brabazon, Bart, of
Brabazon Park, co. Mayo, and grandson
of Cuthbert Sharpe, Esq. of Sunderland,
by Susanna his wife, sister of Brass
Crosby, M. P. for Honiton, the distin-
guished Lord Mayor of London in 1771,
who made in that year a successful strug-
gle for the free publication of the parlia-
mentary debates, and suffered imprison-
ment in the Tower of London. Mr. W.
J. Brabazon changed his patronymic
Sharpe for the surname of Brabazon, by
royal licence, on succeeding to the estates
of his uncle, Sir Wm. John Brabazon,
Bart. M. P. His uncle, Sir Cuthbert
Sharpe, F.S.A. is an eminent antiquarian
writer.

Brandon, Joshua J. Esq. late of Harley-
street, at Paris, 23rd June.

Brodhurst, Eleanor, third daughter of John
Edward Brodhurst, Esq. at Crowbill,
Mansfield, 25th June.

Bull, the Rev. John Garwood, A.B. vicar
of Godalming, Surrey, at York, aged
55, 8h July.

Butler, Cornelius Haynes, Esq. of Ingate-
stone, Essex, aged 35, 28th June.

Buttaushaw, Major W. late of the Bengal

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

191

Army, at Lee-park, Blackheath, in the
56th year of his age, 17th June.
Buxton, Charles, Esq. at Bellfield, near

Weymouth, aged 88, 16th July.
Cambridge, Charles Owen, Esq. of Whit-
minster-house, co. Gloucester, in his 95th
year, 29th June.

Capel, Lady Caroline. This lady, who
died on the 9th July, aged 74, was eldest
sister of the present Marquis of Anglesey,
being daughter of Henry, first Earl of
Uxbridge, by Jane his wife, daughter of
the Very Rev. Arthur Champagne, Dean
of Clonmacnoise. Her ladyship married
2nd April, 1792, the Hon. John Thomas
Capel, son of the fourth Earl of Essex,
and was left a widow in 1819 with three
sons and eight daughters ; the eldest of
the former succeeded to the hereditary
honours of his family at the decease of
his uncle in 1839, and is the present
Earl of Essex.

Cardew, Harriet, wife of Captain Cardew,
74th Highlanders, and eldest daughter ol
Lieutenant-Colonel Fenwick, Royal En-
gineers, at Glasgow, aged 25, 13th June.
Also, a few hours previously, Thomas
Howard, infant son of the above Captain
and Harriett Cardew.

Chambers, Emma Catherine, relict of Davicl
Chambers, Esq. and daughter of the late
John Weyland, Esq. of Woodeaton, Ox-
fordshire, in Glocester-terrace, Regent's-
park, in her 66th year, 18th June.
Chambers, Mary, only daughter of the late
Rev. Thomas Chambers, aged 61, 12th
July.
Cheere, Mrs. Emma, at Montague-square

29th June.

Chisholm, Mrs. Susanna Stewart, wife oi
Alexander Chisholm, Esq. artist, 17th
. June.

Clarke, his Excellency Andrew, Esq. K.H
at Government-house, Perth, Westerr
Australia, Governor and Commander-in
Chief of that colony, and late Lieutenant
Colonel in the 40th Regiment, aged 54
llth Feb.

Clayton, Michael, Esq. of Lincoln's Inn
and Charlwood Park, Surrey, aged 53
llth July.

Coates, Henry, Esq. of dysentery, at Per
nambuco; having landed at that port three
days previously from H.M. packet. Swift
during nearly 30 years an eminent medi
cal practitioner in Rio de Janeiro 4t
May.
Cogswell the Rev. William, A.M. at Hali

fax. Nova Scotia, aged 37, 5th June.
Colquit, Rear-Admiral, at Bishopstoke

aged 61, 10th July.

Cooper, Jane, third daughter of John1
Cooper, Esq. of Her Majesty's Ordnance,
at the Tower, 5th July.
Cotes, Thomas Durell, Esq. of Bath, a<"jd
55, 20th July.

>owdy, Lieutenant John Craven Lewis,
36th Native Infantry, Madras Presidency,
son of Captain Crowdy, R.N. of cholera,
after a short illness, at Dieppe, 20th July.

!!unliffe, Jane Hall, the wife of John Cun-
liffe, jun Esq. and youngest daughter of
the late John Woodburne, Esq. Thurston-
ville, Lancashire, at Bank-parade, Pres-
ton, 3rd July.

Curtis, George Rix, Esq. late of Gainsbo-
rough, Lincolnshire, at Bruges, in Bel-
gium, in the 69th year of his age, 2oth
June.

Dalzell, Sarah, relict of the late John Tho-
mas Robert Dalzell, Esq. at Wallingford,
Berkshire, in the 83rd year of her age,
llth July.

Daniel, G. R. Esq. Q.C. of Landsdown-
place, Cheltenham, and co. Westmeath,
Ireland, in London, 19th June.

Dansey, James Cruikshank, Esq. of Great
Milton, Oxfordshire, eldest son of Colonel
Dansey, C.B. at Ryde, in the Isle of
Wight, in his 30th year, 18th July.

iDelafosse, Margaret Teresa, eldest surviving
daughter of the late Major Henry Dels-
fosse, C.B. of the Bengal Artillery, and
Principal Commissary of Ordnance, after
a few days' illness, at Marlborough, in
the 18th year of her age. 17th June.

Dewdney, the Rev. Edmund, incumbent of
St. John's Chapel, Portsea, at Florence,
18th June.

Dobinson, Joseph, Esq. Ensign in the 15th
Madras Native Infantry, youngest son of
Joseph Dobinson, Esq. of Egh am -lodge,
Egham, Surrey, at Bangalore, in the
20th year of his age, 28th April.

Donne, Thomas, Esq. of Welch Street,
Donatts, co. Glamorgan, 10th June.

Douglas, Colin, Esq. of Maino, Lieut. R.N.
at Aberdeen, 16th July.

Downes, Matilda Granville, youngest ciau.
of the late Major Charles and Frances
Downes, of Edinburgh, at West Leigh,
Havant, Hants. aged'l9, 25th June.

Du Cane, Alice, the only surviving daughter
of the late Major Du Cane, of the 20th
Light Dragoons, at Witham, Essex, after
a short illness, in the 24th year of her age,
17th June.

Dunlop, Margaret, relict of the late James
Dunlop, Esq. of Glasgow, 17th June.*

Dupuis, Seymour, eldest son of the Rev.
Charles Dupuis, Rector of Brixton, co.
Warwick, drowned off the Lizard, aged
18, 7th July.

Edgeworth, Major Thomas, formerly of the
35th Regiment, at Hawthorne, Berks,
20th July.

Egan. Alice, relict of the late Edward Egan,
l£gq. at St. John's Wood, 6th July.

Ewart, Eliza, daughter of Colonel Cheney,
C.B. and relict of the late John Ewart,
Esq. of Liverpool, at Deesin's Hotel,
Calais, 2nd July.

1.92

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Fallow, the Rev. T. M. Incumbent of St
Andrews, Marylebone, 16th July.

Fisher, Susanna, second daughter of the late
Captain Peter Fisher, R.N. of Walmer
Kent, at Newport, Barnstaple, Devon, o
consumption, 3rd July.

Fitchett, Stephen, Esq. of Fareham, aged
86, 25th June.

Forbes, Caroline Maria, wife of Robert
Forbes, Esq. and daughter of Charles
Rooke, Esq. of Westwood-house, Essex
in Glocester-place, Portman-square, 4th
July.

Forbes, Mrs. relict of the late Capt. Robert
Forbes, aged 87, 10th July.

Forester, Sophia, relict of the Rev. Henry
Forester, late of Fifehead, Dorsetshire, a*
Fareham, Hampshire, in the 86th year o
her age, 28th June.

Foster, John, Esq. at Beaumont-close
Biggleswado, aged 83, 7th July.

Frankland, Harry Albert, naval cadet o:
Her Majesty's ship Alarm, on board Her
Majesty's steam-sloop Hermes, off Vera
Cruz, of yellow fever, in the 17th year of
his age, 9th May.

Gaff, Major John, late of the 76th Regiment,
at Pimlico, aged 70, 25th June.

Galloway, Jannett, only daughter of the
late Thomas Galloway, Esq. aged 64,
15th July.

Gamier, Brownlow North, second son of the
late Rev. William and Lady Harriett
Garnier, of Rookesbury, Hants, at St.
Margaret's, near Tichfield, in his 44th
year, 28th June.

Gibson, Thomas, Esq. at Putney, aged 29.

Gilbert, William, Esq. at Cranbrook, Kent,
aged 71, 19th July.

Gil pin, Ellen, wife of the Rev. Bernard
Gilpin, jun. of Aldborough, Yorkshire,
and the eldest daughter of James Kendle,
Esq. at Weasenham, Norfolk, in the 35th
year of her age, 15th July.

Gosset, the Rev. Thomas Stephen, M.A.
one of the senior fellows of Trinity Col-
lege, Cambridge, at his residence, Corn-

Hamilton, John, youngest son of Major
John Hamilton, late of the 77th Regiment
of Foot, at the residence of his father, 6,
Camden-street North, Camden- town, aged
14 years, 9th July.

Hammack, Arthur Wellesley, youngest son
of John George Hammack, Esq. of Essex-
house, Bow-road, in his 20th year, 19th
July.

Hanmer, Sarah Serra, wife of Lieutenant-
Colonel Hanmer, the only child of the
late Sir M. Ximenes, of Bear-place, Berks,
in Devonshire-place, 29th June.

Hardcastle, the Rev. C. of fever, at Water-
ford, 1st July.

Harden, John, Esq. of Crea, King's County,
Ireland, at Miller-bridge, near A mbleside,
in the 76th year of his age, 1st July.
Mr. Harden, only son of William Harden ,
Esq. of the county of Tipperary, by Jane
his wife, daughter and coheir of Joseph
Webster, Esq. of Crea, King's County,
was 6. 7th March, 1772, and m. 1st Jan.
1803 Jessie, 2nd dau. of the late Robert
Allan, Esq. Banker, of Edinburgh, by
whom he has left issue ; Robert Allan,
late of the Madras Native Infantry ;
Joseph Webster, MA. Vicar of Condover ;
John William, Judge of the County
Court at Warrington ; and two daughters.

Harman, Anna Maria Brisco, second dau.
of John Harman, Esq. of Sussex-square,
18th July.

Harrison, R. Esq. Barrister-at-Law, at
Twickenham, 12th July.

Hart, Major Lockyer Willis, 22nd Regiment
B. N. I. at Paris, in the 43rd year of his
age, 27th June.

Harvey, William Gilmore, Esq. formerly of
Battle, Sussex, at his residence, North-
end, Fulham, in his 89th year, 28th June.

Sawkes, Elizabeth, relict of Robert Hawkes,
Esq. of Norwich, 2nd July.

:lenville; Grace, wife of Charles B. Henville,
Esq. of Winterborne, Dorset, aged 36,
llth July.

ley wood, Anne, relict of the late Nathaniel

wall-terrace, Regent's-park, in his 57th

year, 22nd July.
Gunner, William John, Esq. second son of

R. W. Gunner, (Esq. of Enfield Lock, j

aged 20, 25th June.
Hall, Lucy, the wife of Lieutenant-Colonel

Jasper Hall, and eldest daughter of the

late William Alves, Esq. of Enham-house, |

Hants, at Biebrich, on the Rhine, 30th

June. jHigham, R. P. Esq. at Eltham-place, Lee

Hall, Jessie, relict of the late James Stuart j Green, Kent, aged 67, 23rd June.

Hall, Esq. of Bittern Manor, Hants, llth Hindley, Susan, the younger daughter of

Heywood, Esq. and daughter of the late
Thomas Percival, M.D. F.R.S. at Acres-
field, near Manchester, in the 80th year
of her age, 13th June.
Hicks, William Frederick, Esq. Ceylon
Civil Service, second son of George Hicks,
Esq. formerly of Somerset-street, Port-
man-square, at the Cape of Good Hope,
aged 26, 29th April.

July.
Hamilton, Robert, Esq. of Norwood, aged

72, 14th July.
Hamilton, Jessie, wife

of T. M. M'Niell

Hamilton, Esq. of Raploch, Lanarkshire.
N. B. in Hamilton, aged 21, 2fith June.

Charles Hindley, Esq. M.P. at Brighton,

aged 12 years, 21st June.
Hoare, Mrs. Charles, at Maidstone, aged

57, 29th June.
Holbech, Edward, Esq. late of the Innis-

killen Dragoons, 24th June.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

193

Hollingwo^h, Francis, Esq. at West Hack-
ney, 14th July.

Horden, Henry William, Esq. at Stamford,
aged 25, 23rd June.

Horsford, Amelia, wife of the Hon. Paul
Horsford, member of her Majesty's Coun-
cil of Antigua, at Marine-place, Dover,
in the 79th year of her age, 2nd July.

Howes, John Baron, the eldest son of John
Baron Howes, Esq. of Irthlingborough-
grange, Northamptonshire, accidentally
drowned in the river near that place, aged
16 years, 1st July.

Hudleston, Harriet, wife of Lieut.-Col. R
Hudleston, H.E.I.C. and second dau. of
the late Rev. Samuel Farewell, of Hole-
brock-house, Somerset, at Ramsgate, after
a lingering illness, 22nd June.

Husband, Thomas, Esq. at Devonport, for
many years a banker and magistrate of
that town, and one of Her Majesty's jus-
tices of the peace for the county of Devon,
aged 86, 16th July.

Jeaffreson, Mrs. John, at Islington, aged
65, 29th June.

Kelly, Dr. of Parsonstown, 14th July.
This gentleman was a very eminent phy-
sician, and for a long series of years en-
joyed one of the most extensive practices
in the central part of Ireland. His skill
in cases of midwifery was universally ac-
knowledged. Dr. Kelly, however, was
not famed for knowledge alone ; his cha-
rity, benevolence, and hospitality, had
obtained him general regard and affection.
The residence of Dr. Kelly was at Par-
sonstown, in the King's County, a place
of continual resort to travellers, in conse-
quence of being the locality of Lord
Rosse's wonderful telescope. Visitors
thither will have cause to regret the Doc-
tor's death, for at his social and intel-
lectual home many a stranger met a cor-
dial and agreeable welcome. Indeed
there are stories told on good authority
of how, on more than one occasion, the
worthy Doctor being called to travellers
taken ill at the inn in his town, has in-
vited them to his house, and never allowed
them to depart until he restored them to
health ; on such occasions he refused all
pecuniary reward for his services, as he
then esteemed the patients his guests.
Dr. Kelly died at Parsonstown, after a
short illness, at a very advanced age. He
leaves behind him a numerous family.
One of his sons is Edmund Meares Kelly,
Esq. a member of the Irish bar, and the
author of a well-known work on the law
relating to Scire Facias.

Kelly, Captain Waldron Barrs, Staff Officer
of Pensioners, and late of the 22nd Regt.
youngest son of Lieutenant-Colonel Kelly,
of Tilbury Fort, at Sligo, Ireland, of
fever, 12th July.

Lane, Emma, eldest daughter of Brevet
Lieut. Colonel John Theophilus Lane,
C.B., of the Bengal Artillery, and grand-
daughter of the late Commissioner Lane,
of the Royal Navy, in her 2 1 st year, at
Paris, on the 16th July.

Lanesborough, Earl of, Brinsley Butler,
fourth Earl of Lanesborough, died re-
cently, at Brislington,near Bristol. His
Lordship was only surviving son of Robt.
Henry, third Earl, by Elizabeth, his wife,
eldest daughter of the Right Hon. David
La Touche, and grandson of Brinsley,
second Earl of Lanesborough, by Jane,
daughter of Robert, first Earl of Belve-
dere. The deceased peer was born 22nd
October, 3783, and had, consequently,
completed his 64th year. Never having
married he is succeeded in his honours
and estates by his cousin, George John
Danvers Butler Danvers, Esq., of Surth-
land Hall, Leicestershire, now fifth Earl
of Lanesborough, who is eldest son of the
late Honourable Augustus Richard But-
ler, by Elizabeth, his first wife, daughter
and heir of Sir John Danvers, Bart. The
new peer was born in 1794, and married
29th August, 1815, Frances Arabella
third daughter of the late Colonel Stephe,
Freemantle. The noble house of Lanen
borough was founded by Sir Stephen
Butler, Knt., who settled in Ireland
temp. James I. He was one of the un-
dertakers for the plantation of the pro-
vince of Ulster ; and, having obtained -
grant of two thousand acres of land in the
county Cavan, erected a baronial castle
of great strength there. Sir Stephen and
his co-undertakers of the precinct of
Loghtee commenced, according to their
agreement, the plantation of a town, at
Belturbet; and, in his time, thirty-five
houses were erected, all inhabited by Bri-
tish tenants, most of whom were trades-
men, each having a house and garden-
plot, with four acres of land, and com-
mons for a certain number of cattle.

Lawford, Rev. John Grant, second son of
the late William Robinson Lawford, Esq.
of Leighton Buzzard, Bedfordshire, at
Brussels, in the 35th year of his age, 23rd
June.

Leahy, David, Esq. Mr. Leahy, by birth
an Irishman, was called to the English
bar by the Hon. Society of Gray's Inn.
The learned gentleman joined theWestern
Circuit : but, though in some practice,
his success was not commensurate with
the great ability he undoubtedly possessed.
As a writer on literary, political, and le-
gal subjects, Mr. Leahy was, however, ac-
tively and continually employed ; and he
was esteemed to possess such deep rooted
forensic and constitutional knowledge,
that he was chosen as one of the counsel

ANNOTATED OBITUAR1.

in the defence' of Mr. O'Connell. The
soundness of his arguments on that occa-
sion was afterwards recognised by the judg-
ment of the House of Lords. The vo-
lume he subsequently published relative
to the trial added much to his reputa-
tion. On the recent establishment of the
Local Courts, Mr. Leahy was appointed
the Judge for the Greenwich and Lam-
beth districts ; and it is much to be la-
mented that he has been snatched away
just as he had attained that position
which his talents entitled him to hold.
Mr. Leahy died on the 21st June, at his
Chambers, in Mitre-Court buildings.
The demise of this excellent person is the
subject of deep regret to a very wide cir-
cle of friends, to whom his high social, as
well as mental qualifications, had en-
deared him.

Littleton, the Hon. Hiacinthe Anna, eldest
dau. of Lord Hatherton, in the 34th year
of her age, 10th July.

Lynch, Dr. Jordan Roche, of Farringdon
street. Distinguished for his advocacy of
Sanitory Regulations, 24th June.

Macdonell, Hugh, Esq., fur many years
British Consul-General at Algiers, at
Florence, on the 3rd June.

Mac Neill, Catherine Alicia L. J. eldest
surviving dau. of Jane Mac Neil! Hamil-
ton, and the late D. H. Mac Neill Ha-
milton, Esq. of Newgrove, county Down,
Ireland, and Raploch, Lanarkshire, N.B.
aged 22, on the 19th June.

Maclean, General Sir Fitzroy, Bart. This
gallant officer, a General in the Army,
and Colonel of the 45th Regiment of
Foot, at his residence in Cadogan place.
Sir Fitzroy succeeded to the Baronetcy
and the Chieftainship of the Macleans
at the decease, in 1818, of his elder bro-
ther, Sir Hector Maclean. He was twice
married : first, to Mrs. Bishop, relict of J.
Bishop, Esq. of Barbadoes, and secondly.
to Frances, widow of Henry Champion,
Esq. of Maling Deanery, Sussex. By
the former he had two sons, Lieutenant-
Colonel Charles Fitzroy Maclean, the
present Baronet of Morvaren ; and Do-
nald, of the Chancery Bar, late M.P. for
Oxford. Sir Fitzroy was a full General,
and wore a medal for his services at Gua-
daloupe. The family, of which he was
the representative, claimed remote anti-
quity. Gaelic Antiquaries assert that its
surname was originally Mac Gillian, and
that it was derived irom the celebrated
Highland warrior Gillian, who was deno-
minated Gillian-ni-Tuoidh, from his ordi-
nary weapon, a battle axe, which some of
his descendants wear to this day in their
crest, betwixt a laurel and cypress branch.
He died on the 5th July.

Murray, Captain James, formerly on the
Bengal Establishment, and during the
last twenty-eight years, superintendent for

the London district of the recruiting staff
of the Hon. East India Company, at
Quatre Bras, near Dorchester, in his 67th
year, 22nd June,

Nicholl, Lieut.-Colonel Edward, late of the
84th Regiment of Foot, in which he
served for forty years in the East and
West Indies, as well as in various other
countries, at Adamsdown, the residence
of his brother, near Cardiff, in his 7 1st
yea-, 23th June.

O'Conor Don, M.P. for the co. of Roscom-
mon, and one of the Lords of the Trea-
sury, of disease of the heart. This re-
spected gentleman was born in May 1794,
the elder son of the late Owen O'Conor
Don, of Belanagare and Clonalis, by Jane
his wife, dau. of James Moore, Esq. of
Mount Browne, co. Dublin. He married
27th August, 1824, Mary, dau. of Mau.
rice Blake, Esq. of Tower Hill, co. Mayo,
and has left two sons, and five daughters.
Of his illustrious ancestry, we have given
particulars under this Month's " Frag-
ments of Family History." 21st July.

Peacock, Mary, wife of Wilkinson Peacock,
Esq. and eldest dau. of the late Colonel
Affleck, of Cavendish Hall, Suffolk, at
Thorpe Tylney, Lincolnshire. 8th July.

Peters, James, jun. Esq. barrister_at-law,
St. John's, eldest son of the Hon. Chas.
Jeffrey Peters, Her Majesty's Attorney
General for the province of New Bruns
wick, at the residence of Robert Bell, Esq-
Fountain-Bridge, Edinburgh, 3rd July.

Phillips, Mary Anne Hawkes, wife of Phil-
lip Loveil Phil'ips, Esq. M.D. of fever, at
Arezzo, in Tuscany, on route from Rome
to Florence, aged 33, 7lh June.

Pollock, Sir David, Knt. Chief Justice of
Bombay, in May last, at Bombay, of liver
complaint, after a sojourn only of eight
months in India, where he was appointed
last year as Chief Judge at the Presidency
of Bombay, in succession to Sir Henry
Roper. Sir David Pollock who was elder
brother of Chief Baron Pollock, of Gene-
ral Sir George Pollock, and of Mr. J. H.
Pollock, was born in 1780, and educated
at Edinburgh Collie. In 1802, he wtss
called to the Bar, and for many years
went the Home Circuit. Besides parlia-
mentary business, in which at one time
he had extensive practice, Sir I>avid Pol-
lock devoted considerable time to the
Insolvent Debtor's Court, and some
three or four years ago was appointed a
Commissioner of that Court, which he
continued to fill till last year, he was
nominated to the Chief Justiceship of
Bombay, in succession to Sir Henry
Roper ; and few judges have given such
universal satisfaction to all classes, both
Native and European, or become so re-
vered even in a short sojourn of eight
months as the learned gentleman. Prayers
were offered up by the native population

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

1S5

for his restoration to health, and his
funeral which took place on the 22nd was
attended by the Governor of Bombay,
the Coramander-in-Chief, Sir Erskine
Perry, the Hon. J. P. Willoughby, the
Advocate-General, and Dr. Lark worthy,
as pall-bearers, besides many hundreds
of sorrowing friends. Sir David was in
his 68th year, was a Queen's Coun-
sel, and a Bencher of the Middle Temple,

Qnillinan, Mrs. wife of Edward Quillinan,
Esq. This lady was the author of a
" Journal of a few Months' Residence in
Portugal," &c. recently published. She
died of a rapid decline, at Rydal Mount,
Ambleside, at the house of her father,
William Wordsworth, Esq. (the laureate),
9th July.

Radcliffe, Mary, dau. of John Radcliffe,
Esq. of Cheltenham, IGth June.

Reay, Lord, after a short illness, aged 74, on
the 8th July. His lordship, who died at
his seat, Goldings, Herts, was eldest son
of the Hon. George Mackay, of Skibo,
M. P. Master of the Mint of Scotland, by
Anne, his wife, daughter of Eric Suther-
land, only son of the attaintedLord Duffus,
and inherited »the family honours at the
decease of his cousin. Hugh, sixth Lord,
in 1797. He was never married, and is,
consequently, succeeded by his next bro-
ther, the Hon. Alexander Mackay, Bar-
rack Master at Malta, who married, in
1809, Mrs. Ross, widow of David Ross,
Esq. of Calcutta, and has Eric, and
several other children. The very ancient
family from which derived the nobleman

' whose death we record held possessions in
the north of Scotland seven centuries
ago, which possessions were originally
denominated Strathnaver, but more re-
cently Lord Reay's country. The great
influence, however, of the Mackays may
be attributed to the celebrated Donald
Mackay, characterised by historians as
" a great general, and a wise and political
gentleman." This personage was at the
battle of Solway Moss, and returned with
the King to Edinburgh three days after
the conflict, when his Majesty bestowed
upon him, in requital of his faithful
services, the forfeited lands of several
individuals, by charter dated 28th Nov.
1845. Sir Donald Mackay, of Far, the
first Lord Reay, was a distinguished sol-
dier of his time, and took an active part
during the ci vil war, in favour of Royalty ;
but, being one of those excepted from
pardon in the treaty between the Cove-
nanters and King Charles, he was obliged
to retire to Denmark, where he died, in
1649.

Rudyerd, Colonel Samuel, of the Royal
Artillery, at the residence of his brother-

in-law, C. Richardson, Esq. Field House,
Whitty, Yorkshire, 19th July. This
distinguished officer, who served most
gallantly under the Duke of Wellington
in all his campaigns from India to the
plains of Waterloo, descended lineally
from the anicent family of Rudyard, of
Rudyerd.hall, near Leek, in Staifordshire,
where they were seated long before the
Conquest, and of undoubted Saxon
origin, and was connected with almost
all the ancient barons and nobility of
Great Britain, through their marriages
with the Harringtons of Exton, &c., &c.
Colonel Rudyerd was the son of the late
General Rudyerd, of the Royal Engi-
neers, and cousin of the late General Sir
Charles Shepley, of the same corps,
whose mother, Miss Jane Rudyerd, who
married Captain Richard Shipley, of
Copt hall, Luton, Beds, became heiress
of that branch of the family, descending
from Sir Benjamin Rudyerd, the cele-
brated poet and speaker in the long par
liament, who was the last surveyor of
the court of wards and liveries) upon the
death of her only brother Captain Benja-
min Rudyerd, of the Coldstream Guards,
aid-de camp to Lord Stair at the battle
of Dettingen. Colonel Samuel Rudyerd,
whose death we now record, being a
descendant of Benjamin Rudyerd, Esq.,
of Westwoodhay, in Berks, the grand son
of Benjamin Rudyerd, by his second
marriage with Miss Beaumont of York-
shire ; his first wife, from whom the late
Sir Charles Shipley descended, having
been the eldest daughter and co-heiress
of Sir Benjamin Maddux of Worm ley, in
Herts, Bar t.

Slanev, Eliz.wife of Robt. A. Slariey, Esq.,
of Walford-manor, Shropshire, aged 62,
20th July. Mrs. Slaney was only child
of William Hawkins Muccleston, M.D.,
and sole heiress of her uncle, Joseph,
Muccleston, Esq. of Walford, High She-
riff of Shropshire, in 1788. Her mar-
riage took place in 1812 : and its issue
was three daughters, Elizabeth Frances,
wife of Thomas Campbell Eyton, Esq.,
Mary, m. to Wm. Watkin Edw. Wynne,
Esq. of Peniarth, and Frances Caroline.

Stopford, Admiral, the Hon, Sir Robert,
G.C.B., G.C.M.G., Vice-Admiral of the
United Kingdom and Governor of
Greenwich Hospital, in the 80th year of
his age, 25th June. This distinguished
officer, died on Friday morning, the 25th
June, at Richmond, Surrey, whither he
had removed for change of air. He was
third son of James, second Earl of Cour-
town, and uncle of the present peer. The
deceased admiral was born in 1768.
Entering the navy at an early age, he
served as midshipman in the Prince

196

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

George in Rodney's actions, and obtained j Col. Target, at Caen, France, 24th June.

Tatham, Mrs. Sarah, of Bedford Place, 4th

his commission as Lieutenant in 1785.
He subsequently commanded succes.
sively the Lowestoff", the Aquilon, and
the Phaton, under Lords Howe and
Cornwallis, and performed many gallant
and important services to his country.
In 1803, he was appointed to the Spencer,
and was employed off Ferrol and Co-
runna ; the following year he was nomi-
nated Colonel of Marines; and, in 1806,
participated in Sir John Duckworth's
brilliant action off St. Domingo, where
he was severely wounded. Captain Stop-
ford's next service was in the Exhibition
against Copenhagen, under Admiral Par-
ker and Lord Nelson. Having been ad-
vanced to the rank of Rear- Admiral, in
1808, he was appointed to command the
Channel Fleet, during which he block-
aded a French squadron in Aix Roads ;
for which exploit, and his conduct in an
attack upon the enemy, he received the
thanks of parliament. In 1810, Admiral
Stopford was nominated to the command
of the squadron at the Cape. Subse-
quently, he commanded the naval forces
at the capture of Java. In 1813, the
gallant officer returned to England — was
madeaK.C.B. in 1815, and became Full
Admiral in 1825> and a G.C.B. in 1831.
Admiral Stopford continued to serve his
country in the Mediterranean, where he
held the naval command for some time,and
was engaged at the capture of St. Jean
d'Acre, in 1840. For his services on this
occasion he was a second time honoured
with the thanks of parliament. After
retiring from the command in the Medi-
terranean, Sir Robert was appointed
Governor of Greenwich Hospital, wl ich
office he held up to the time of his de-
cease. Besides the British honours con-
ferred upon the gallant Admiral, he re-
ceived from the Emperor Nicholas the

July.

Temple, Sir Grenville, formerly Lieutenant
Colonel of the 15th Hussars, died at
Constance, in Switzerland, aged 48, on the
7th June. He was the eldest son of the
late Sir Grenville Temple, 9th Baronet,
whose father, Sir John Temple, succeeded
to the title in 1786, at the decease of his
kinsman, Sir Richard Temple. The
Baronet just deceased was born 20th July,
1799, married 5th May, J829, Mary,
daughter of George Baring, Esq., brother
of Lord Ashburton, by whom he leaves a
large family, the eldest son of which is the
present Sir Grenville Leofric Temple,
Bart., an officer in the Royal navy, born
in 1830. The ancient family of Temple
derives its surname from the manor of
Temple, co. Leicester, and deduces its
descent from Leofric, Earl of Chester,
who lived in the reign of Edward the
Confessor. The Leofric married the
celebrated Godiva, of Coventry notoriety,
who is said to have appeased the wrath
of her offended lord, and to have obtained
a restitution of privileges for the good
citizens of Coventry, by exhibiting on
horseback, in the simple habiliments of
Eve, to the confusion of an unlucky knight
of the needle, whom tradition hath stricken
blind for presuming to peep. Certain it is
that pictures of the earl and his countess
were set up in the south window of Trinity
Church, in that ancient city, about the
reign of Richard II., more than three
centuries after the occurrence of the
supposed event ; his Lordship holding a
charter in the right hand, with the words,

I, Lurick, for love of thee
Do set all Coventry toll-free.

And there is still a yearly procession of a
naked figure observed by the grateful
citizens on Friday after Trinity Sunday.

Order of St. George, Second Class; from Walker, Reginald John, Esq. a Lieut, in

the King of Prussia, the Grand Cross of
the Red Eagle; and was nominated a
Knight Commander of the Order of Maria '
Theresa, in 1841. Sir Robert Stopford
married, 29th June, 1809, Mary, dau.
of Robert Fanshawe, Esq., by which lady

the Bengal Engineers, and Assistant Sur-
veyor in the great trigonometrical survey
of India. He was the fifth son of the
late John Walker, Esq. of Purbrook-park,
Hants, at Bernangora, near Darjeling, in
the East Indies, aged 24, 24th April.

he leaves three sons, viz.— Robert Fan- Walton, Mr., the Stage Manager of the

shawe, Captain in the Navy; James
Jo:m, also a Captain in the Navy ; and
Arthur Fanshawe; and several daughters
of whom the eldest, Christiana Fanshawe,
is married to the Rev. William F. Doug-
las, third son of Sir H. Douglas, Bart. ;
and the third, Henrietta Maria, is widow
of Lord Henry Russell, R.N., who died
in 1842.

Stratton, William, Esq. at Aberdeen, aged
87, 13th July.

Target, Madame S. M. widow of the late

Princess' Theatre, and an actor of more
than ordinary merit there. His death,
. which occurred on the 17th instant, hap-
pened under melancholy circumstances.
He had been suffering from a painful
disease, and he was in the habit of taking

x laudanum and morphia to allay the
torment. An over dose proved fatal to
him : he died in his 48th year.

Yates. John Henry, Esq. at Woburn- square,
aged 37, 21st June.

THE PATRICIAN.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

(Continued.}

THE theory of the law is, that surnames, like air or light, are publici juris,
subjects in which even occupation and possession do not give exclusive
property ; the claim to bear peculiar cognizances or arms was, it is pro-
bable, in the origin of the practice, similarly regarded.

The assumption or change of a surname is at the present day, and has
been always, notwithstanding a vulgar notion to the contrary, a matter
of common law right ; nor is it restricted by anything but the potent in-
fluence of public opinion, which has very properly always attached a
certain degree of discredit to any attempt to confuse identity, or oblite-
rate the traces of a past career. Whenever, therefore, upon just cause a
British subject seeks to take a surname, not his by birth, he for the most
part does so by adopting a course in itself of the highest notoriety ; in
other words, he obtains the license of the Crown, which is gazetted in
due form, or he obtains an Act of Parliament.

" Welsh families/' says Mr. Grimaldi *, " are more- known by their arms
than by their names, and even in English families, many persons of the
same house can only now be classed with their proper families, by an
inspection of the arms they bore on their seals, shields, and the like."
So in the popular commotions at Florence, the cry of the adherents of
the Medici was taken, not from the surname but the arms, of that family,
« Palle, Palle."

At first, armorial bearings were probably like surnames, assumed
by each warrior at his free will and pleasure 5 and as his object would
be to distinguish himself and his followers from others, his cognizance
would be respected by the rest, either out of an innate courtesy or a
feeling of natural justice, disposing men to recognise the right of first
occupation, or really from a positive sense of the inconvenience of being
identified or confounded with those to whom no common tie united them ;
where, however, remoteness of stations kept soldiers aloof, and extensive
boundaries, and different classes of enemies from without, subdivided the
force of a kingdom into many distinct bands and armies, opportunities of
comparing and ascertaining what ensigns had been already appropriated
would be lost, and it well might happen, even in the same country, that
various families might be found unconsciously using the same arms.

* Origines Genealogicee, p. 82.

VOL. IV. NO. XVII. Q,

198 THK SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

And so it was with the three English families of Car mi now, Scrope, and
Grosvenor, the members of each of which were probably ignorant that
there were any rival claimants to their heraldic honours, until by the
French and Scottish wars they were brought together, and confronted
upon the same field and in the same encampment.

The Court of Chivalry, it may be presumed, offered the first barrier to
a party assuming the martial cognizances of another,but the assumption of
new arms by one who never before had borne any, received its first check, as
far as we know, from the writ of Henry V., which regulated coat armour,
and prohibited their use, except where justified by ancestral right and
use, (jure antecessorio), or by grants from competent authority. It
appears from the commencement of that writ, that many persons had
assumed these insignia, who neither by themselves nor their ancestors
had previously enjoyed them. There is nothing to show what sense was
attached to the vague expression jus antecessorium, or by what evidence
it was expected to be supported.

Our neighbours on the Continent appear to have preceded, or, at least,
excelled, us in the martial exercises of the tourney and joust, and an early
chronicle records of Prince Henry, the son of Henry I., who was after-
wards drowned at sea, that he was in the habit of visiting France every
third year, in order to take part " in conflictibus Gallicis." It was
Richard I. who perceiving the inferiority of his subjects in such encoun-
ters, rectified the evil by his ordinances for jousts and tournaments.

The subsequent prevalence of these fashionable recreations, mimicking
" War's magnificently stern array," was not unlikely to bring into fre-
quent use one of the functions of this Court of Chivalry, that which re-
spected the regulating and marshalling of coat armour.

Armorial bearings are to the eye what names are to the ear j in the
first assumer or grantee, they may be taken to resemble Christian names,
suggestive merely of the personal history and private qualities of the
bearer; in their descent, however, they are quasi surnames and additions
of honour, and become the external expression, not merely of individual
but of collective worth and prowess, and of connexion with an ancestry,
which could in no other mode be so becomingly and inobtrusively pre-
sented to observation, as by those silent yet eloquent mementos of an
extant or a bygone race, crests and quarterings.

The bearing of coats of arms has been most whimsically styled "that
extraordinary phrenzy of the human mind." Would we know the
martial purpose of the invention ? It is at hand. " The end of heraldic
insignia," says Borghini, " is to distinguish the bearer from his ene-
mies, and make him recognizable by his friends." A good custom
may survive its utility, but no custom ever became universal that
was not founded upon some general principles of public conve-
nience. In this respect a custom differs from a law, which may in
particular cases have originated in the tyranny, the lust, the shame, the
malignity of a despot. A custom is a different thing j it must have
originated in necessity, and been sanctioned by general consent. Why,
however, do we find so high a degree of importance attached to the
preserving intact a right to bear particular arms ? Those arms were an
evidence, popularly speaking, almost conclusive, not merely of descent
but of nobility. This was one reason j another was, that in the earlier
period of our history, a right to coat armour carried with it important
privileges as to the use of offensive and defensive arms in the case of

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

199

trials by battle; it gave also the solid advantages of "honour, repu-
tation, and place," and these are the very terms used in the Statute of
Precedence passed in the reign of King Henry VIII. " There was one
James Parker, a servant in court to King Henry VII., that had accused
Hugh Vaughan (one of the gentleman ushers of the said king), unto the
king of some undutiful words spoken by him of the said king. Where-
upon the person accused challenged combat with the accuser ; and be-
cause he was not a coat armour gentleman, Sir John Wriotheslye, then
principal king-at-arms, gave unto the said Hugh Vaughan a coat armour,
with helm and timber, the 14th of October, 1490, anno 6 Hen. VII.
Whereupon the said king sent for the said Garter, and demanded of him,
whether he had made any such patent or no? who answered, that he had
made such arms. Whereupon the king's highness, in his most royal
person, in open justice at Richmond, before all his lords, allowed and
admitted the said grant made by Garter, and likewise allowed the said
Hugh Vaughan to run with the said James Parker, who was at the said
time slain by the said Vaughan in the said jousts.7'* Had this grant of
arms not been allowed, it would rather seem that Vaughan would have
had to meet his steel-clad opponent in a simple buff jerkin, and with
inferior weapons.

No doubt, in the present day, all the advantages of the institution
have not survived

" The old world changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world."

TENNYSON'S Mone d' Arthur.

This is an age of pictorial illustration, and when we appreciate the ad-
vantages of being made to comprehend at a glance what it would other-
wise require hours of steady attention, as listeners or as readers, to ob-
tain an idea of, no wonder that heraldry has again become in some
measure a popular study -} not only does it breathe the spirit of a by-
gone, a generous age, and powerfully suggest its influence, which to ap-
preciate is to share j but its devices are a compendious mode of con-
veying information upon an interesting subject.

" Would that I were a painter, to be grouping
All that the poet drags into detail." — BYRON.

How much historical description and genealogical narrative does a
little herald painting save us ! But it is not merely on this score that
the present practice is to be vindicated. The genealogical utility of
ancient armorial bearings and quarterings has long been recognized by
our lawyers. " I know three families," says Biglandf, " who have ac-
quired estates by virtue of preserving the arms and escutcheons of their
ancestors." So in the Huntingdon peerage case (p. 359), a very old
armorial shield, emblazoned with the armorial ensigns of the Earls of
Huntingdon, which included those of Stanley, was received as evidence
of a marriage between the two families. But if this utility is thus ad-
mitted at the present day, what greater importance must have been
attached to such evidences at a time when the heralds were still unincor-

* Hearne's Collections, vol. ii. p. 168.

Biglaml on Parochial Registers, 1767.
Q 2

200 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

porated, and no such thing as parochial registers existed, when all knights
could not read, nor all nobles write ?

When Sir William Scrope saw a Frenchman in his bearings, well might
that doughty knight feel touchy on the subject : the force of this very
natural feeling was admitted by Cromwell, Earl of Essex, at a much later
period. He had no paternal shield of arms, and when some obsequious
heralds would have entitled him to the arms of Cromwell of Lincolnshire,
extinct long before, his answer was, " He would not wear another man's
coat, for fear the owner should pluck it off his ears ;" and he took a fresh
grant of arms.

The question, What's in a name? implies a sophism that the blindness
of passionate love could alone overlook. What's in an armorial bearing?
exclaims many a man who does not scorn to bear, without right, the
thing that he affects to despise. Is he curious to learn the answer of
Anglo-Norman antiquity, let him consult the roll in the case of Scrope
and Grosvenor.

Although some inaccuracies have crept into the accounts of the early
branches of the family of Grosvenor, owing to genealogists having
occasionally confounded the Latin patronymics of the two distinct families
of Venables and Grosvenor, (Venatores and Grossovenatores), there is
still light enough to enable us to distinguish the remote antiquity of either
stock. The family of Grosvenor at a very early date, long before the right
of Sir Robert Grosvenor to bear the arms " azure a bend or" was chal-
lenged by Sir Richard Scrope, had become divided into the branches of
the Grosvenors of Hulme (of which was Sir Robert the defendant in the
suit) and the Grosvenors of Budworth. The antiquity of the latter
branch is undeniable; its founder Robert le Grosvenor appears in an
ancient charter as the grantee of the manor of Budworth from Hugh
Kevelioc Earl of Chester 1160 — 1181. At the time of the controversy
now under review, this branch had no longer a male lineal representative,
but its honours had descended upon coheiresses who had intermarried into
some of the oldest houses in Cheshire, the Venables of Bradwall and
Alvanley, the Bromleys and the Del Meres. The precise point of con-
nexion between the Budworth and the Hulme branches, is by the confes-
sion of family and county historians not now discoverable.* But that
the connexion did once exist is evident by the whole tenor of the Grosve-
nor depositions in the suit of arms.

According to the pedigree of the Grosvenors of Hulme, compiled by
Sir Peter Leycester, which as it accords with the depositions of the
Abbot of Vale Royal in this cause, Leycester probably drew from the
same source, their first progenitor was Gilbert le Grosvenor a nephew
of Hugh Lupus, first Earl of Chester, himself a nephew of the Conqueror.
Of Gilbert a Robert was son and heir, to whom succeeded his son
Henry, who had a son upon whom the representation of the Hulme
branch devolved.

There appears some confusion as to the name of this the fourth person-
age in descent, the Abbot of Vale Royal says Raufe; an ancient deed terms
his son Richard, the son of Handle (filius Ranulfi Grossovenatoris.) Sir
Peter Leycester says Raufe or Randle Grosvenor ; Collins falls into palpa-
ble error here, introducing an unauthorized Robert; Ormerod suggests
that Ralph and Randle may have been grandfather and father of Richard

* See Ormerod's Cheshire, vol. ii. p. 115, note c.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 201

\vhodied about 1269, and from whom the descent is clear ; hut the con-
jecture, however plausible, cannot be presumed to be accurate in opposi-
tion to the positive deposition of a witness so near the time and so likely
to be well informed as the Abbot of Vale Royal.

Raufe or Randle is said by one of the deponents to have been en-
gaged in 1141, on the part of his kinsman and local prince Randle II.,
in the battle of Lincoln where he wore the arms before mentioned, and to
have been also engaged in the battle in which the said earl was taken
prisoner in 1143. That he wore the bearings in question in the battle
of Lincoln, may be believed by those who esteem heraldic devices as of
that antiquity, but the character of human testimony being substantial
truth under circumstantial variety, the whole evidence of the witness is
not to be altogether disbelieved because in this particular questionable or
inaccurate. For if so, to be consistent we must also discredit the
evidences of the Scrope witnesses who, anxious to speak for the antiquity
of the arms, refer their origin to the reign of a fabulous Prince
(Arthur.)*

Richard le Grosvenor (the son of Ralph or Randle) from whom the
descent is clear, lived 1269, and left a son,

Robert, who was sheriff of Cheshire 12, 13 and 14 Edward I., he died
1284 : by his wife Margery he left a son,

Robert Grosvenor, of Ruddeheath, under age 21 Edward I.; according
to the evidence of Leycester he had served and borne the arms in
question in Scotland temp. Edward II. He died about 1 342, having been
twice married ; by his second wife, Emma,daughter of William Mobberley,
coheiress to her mother and to Sir Raufe Mobberley, he left a son
Raufe Grosvenor, Esq., who died about 30 Edward III., 1356, and was
buried in Nether Peover ; by his wife Joan he left a son, the defendant in
the cause of arms.

Sir Robert Grosvenor, Knight, was under age at the time of his father's
death, and became ward of Sir John Daniell, who married him to his
daughter Joan , She either died before he came to maturity or before
she had any issue by him, and he subsequently married Joan, daughter
of Sir Robert Pulford and sister and heiress of John Pulford and widow
of Thomas son of John de Belgrave, a match which appears to have
occasioned some little stir, for we find one of the adverse witnesses (Sir
Matthew Redman) deposing that the first time he heard speak of Sir
Robert was when some one observed that he was to marry the Lady of
Pulford.f

There is good ground for supposing that this marriage and that of Sir
Robert's grandfather with the heiress of Mobberley, coupled with the
failure of the male line of the Grosvenors of Budworth, were the chief
cause of the prominence of the Hulme branch.

The direct line of the Grosvenors of Hulme terminating also in
coheiresses, the inheritance of the name remained with Ralph Grosvenor
Esq. of Eaton, jure uxoris the lineal descendant of the defendant in the
suit of arms and the progenitor of the present noble house of Grosvenor.

In the year 1395, John Lord Lovel challenged the arms of Thomas Lord
Moriey, and in the first instance by word of mouth j the defendant com-
plaining of this course, the Court directed the claimant to reduce his

* See deposition of Sir Thomas Fychet, vol. ii. p. G2. f Vol. ii. p. 460,

202 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

challenge to writing.* All the proceedings in the Scrope case seem to
have been in writing, with a single exception, for from a memorandum of
the proceedings in a MS. in the Lansdowne Collection, 85, pi. 758, it
appears that in the first instance Sir Robert Grosvenor appealed from the
sentence of the Constable to the king orally (sub certa forma verborum
viva voce) the appeal was afterwards embodied in a more regular form in
writing. In that first mentioned case the parties consented to the follow-
ing mode of proofs. " Sepultures Testimonies of Abbots and other
ecclesiastical persons and other honourable witnesses who have had notice
of their ancestors and antiquity, and paynted tombs, testaments and
other evidences, besides the testimonies of Lords, Knights, Esquires of
honour and gentlemen having knowledge of arms, and no other men of
common or lower estate, and all the witnesses to be sworn except the
Dukes of Lancaster, York, and Earl of Derby."

In the Scrope and Grosvenor case a somewhat similar course seemsto
have been adopted, nor do we believe that of the 40O witnesses who
made depositions even one was of lower estate than " a gentleman
having knowledge of arms/' The first and most puissant witness for
Scrope was John of Gaunt, — we give the deposition entire.

" John, by the grace of God, KING OF CASTILE AND LEON, DUKE OF
LANCASTER, being prayed, and, according to the Law of Arms, required,
by the proctor of Sir Richard le Scrope, to testify the truth between the
said Sir Richard and Sir Robert Grosvenor in a controversy between them
concerning the arms ' Azure a bend Or,' do verily testify, that at the
time when We were armed in battles and other journeysf in divers
countries, We have seen and known that the said Sir Richard hath borne
his arms ' Azure, a bend Or ;' and that many of his name and lineage
have borne the same name and arms, on banner, pennon, and coat armour ;
and that We have heard from many noble and valiant men, since deceased,
that the said arms were of right the arms of his ancestors and himself
at the time of the Conquest and since. And, moreover, We say and
testify, that at the last expedition in France of our most dread lord and
father, on whom God have mercy, a controversy arose concerning the
said arms between Sir Richard le Scrope aforesaid, and one called Car-
minow of Cornwall, which Carminow challenged those arms of the
said Sir Richard, the which dispute was referred to six knights, now as
IJ think, dead, who upon true evidence found the said Carminow to be
descended of a lineage armed ' Azure abend Or,' since the time of King
Arthur ; and they found that the said Sir Richard was descended of a
right line of ancestry armed with the said arms, ' Azure a bend Or,' since
the time of King William the Conqueror j and so it was adjudged that

* See the proceedings Harl. MS. 4268. One question raised by the replication in this
cause was whether a man can grant or sell his arms to the prejudice of his posterity.

t In the original " journee." This word is generally used to describe an action with
the enemy in the field, of rather less importance than a general battle. It has been
anglicized by " journey," William of Worcester, speaking of the battle of St. Albans
in 1455, says, '* All the lords that died at the journey are buried at St. Albans." Paston
Letters, i. 109. — '* Anno 12 Henry VI. This same yere aboughte Witsontyd, the
Lollardes of Prage were distroyd, for at too journeys there were sclayn of them mo
thane xxtt M1 with there cheveteynes."— Chronicle of London, 4to. 1827, p. 120. The
word journey also frequently occurs in another chronicle of the sixteenth century , where
an account is given of the " journies that were done after the Kyng landid at Caleis,"
(anno 8 Hen. VI.) whence its import may be fully understood. Ibid. p. 170.

{ It is remarkable that in this part of his deposition, Lancaster is made to speak in
the first person singular.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. <-203

both might bear the arms entire. But We have not seen or heard that
the said Sir Robert, or any of his name, bore the said arms before the
last expedition in Scotland with our lord the King."

The evidence of the ecclesiastics, Abbots and Priors, on each side is
most important upon the point of descent, but this we must pass over.
Neither have we space for any comment upon the interesting testimony
of Chaucer.

" Geoffrey Chaucer, Esq., of the age of forty and upwards, armed
twenty-seven years, being asked whether the arms, Azure, a bend Or,
belonged to Sir Richard Scrope, said yes, for he saw him so armed in
France before the town of Retters, and Sir Henry Scrope armed in the
same arms with a white label, and with banner ; and the said Sir Richard
armed in the entire arms, and so during the whole expedition, until the
said Geoffrey was taken. Being asked how he knew that the arms
appertained to Sir Richard, said that he had heard old kaights and
esquires say that they had had continual possession of the said arms j
and that he had seen them displayed on banners, glass, paintings, and
vestments, and commonly called the arms of Scrope. Being asked
whether he had ever heard of any interruption or challenge made by Sir
Robert Grosvenor or his ancestors, said no, but that he was once in
Friday Street, London, and walking through the street, he observed a
new sign hanging out with these arms thereon, and inquired ' what inn
that was that had hung out these arms of Scrope ?' and one answered him,
saying, ' They are not hung out, Sir, for the arms of Scrope, nor painted
there for those arms, but they are painted and put there by a Knight of
the county of Chester, called Sir Robert Grosvenor j* and that was the
first time that he ever heard speak of Sir Robert Grosvenor, or his an-
cestors, or of any one bearing the name of Grosvenor."

Thomas de Horneby, called by Grosvenor, said that he knew neither
Sir Robert Grosvenor nor his ancestors, not being himself of the county
of Chester.*

William Hesilrigg, Esq. had seen Scropes armed in the army at
Cressy, where there were many good knights of the county of Chester,
and many good archers, who neither at that time nor afterwards gainsaid
the said arms.

Sir Andrew Luttriell, senior, Knight, had never heard any good or ill
of Grosvenor or his ancestors.

Amongst the deponents, of whom notices are reserved by Sir Harris
Nicolas for a future and concluding volume, is Johan de Holand, Esquier.
We conclude this individual to have been the John de Holand whose
singular adventures with a Frenchman of the name of Roye is men-
tioned by Froissard. Engaged together in a joust of arms, John de
Holland's lance three times bore away the helmet of his antagonist, leaving
him bareheaded but without injury ; upon examination it was discovered
that the Frenchman designedly omitted the usual fastenings that attached
the casque to the armour. Complaint was made of this proceeding as
unfair, but John of Gaunt, in whose presence the matter occurred, refused
to interfere, although he seems to have deemed it an improper use of
the defensive arms 5 and from a subsequent passage in Froissard one is
led to believe that the trick was several times afterwards practised.

Sir John Gyldesburgh deposes that when he was twelve years old and

* Vol. ii. p. 303.

204 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

went to school at Oxenford he saw there the commencement of a clerk
hearing the name Le Scrope, and that there were trumpeters there
having attached to their trumpets pennoncels with the said arms, and
the clerks demanded whose arms these were, when it was stated that they
were the arms of Le Scrope.

Another of the Scrope witnesses was John Lord Lovel, already referred
to, as himself engaged in a similar cause of arms.

Another deponent is a Sir Ralph Vernon, Knight, perhaps the illegiti-
mate son, who yet succeeded to his father's interest in the barony of
Shipbrooke by grant from his father and sister, he survived to the age of
150 years, and is styled in Cheshire collections, the long liver and Old Sir
Ralph. He outlived sons, grandsons, and great grandsons ; his great-
great-grandson Sir Ralph Vernon, Knight, called young Sir Ralph, suc-
ceeded him in his estates. Old Sir Ralph the deponent, it is presumed,
had for his second wife, (some say concubine,) Maud Grosvenor, by several
pedigrees made the sister of Robert Grosvenor of Budworth.

According to an entry of Augustine Vincent preserved in Woodnoth's
Collections, p. 58, b., the age would seem as correctly given.

" This was sr Raufe Vernon yo Olde, the quick levet ** years and x yeare ;
and he had to his first wife one Mary yo lords doghter of Dacre, and he had
issue by her on sr Raufe yo Vernon of Hanewell, Maister Richard persone
of Stockport, oy two sonnes Nicholl and Hugh yo quick were both freres
and two daughters Agatha and Rose. Then deghet the foreset Mary and
after her death yo foreset sr Raufe tooke to pa'neore one Maude yo Gros-
venor and had issue by her Richard and Robert, bastards."

We have not been able to find any other knight of the family of
Vernon whose Christian name coincides, that would better correspond
with the deponent Raufe Vernon, Chival'. It is remarked in the parti-
cular instance of Chaucer, that his age in the deposition was not given
with accuracy ; the same may be true of Vernon, who, if he was the
party in question, must then have been much older than forty-six years,
and would hardly have been justified in styling himself as de 1'age de 46 et
plus, when he must have completed double that period : very old gentle-
men are, however, sometimes loth to admit the precise day of their
birth, and, perhaps, this shrewd old knight, knowing that a date fre-
quently fixes a fact, wished the illegitimacy of his origin to be lost in
the mist of years : vain hope, stands it not recorded in judicial records
and county collections !

The deposition of John Thirlewalle is so remarkable in many respects,
that we cannot omit, even at the risk of an almost unreasonable pro-
lixity, to give a portion of it at length. His father, if his testimony or
the fidelity of the copyist of the roll be not impeachable, attained so ad-
vanced a period of life as to make him a worthy competitor with " Olde
Sir Ralph Vernon," already alluded to, in the race of longevity $ hut it
must be remembered, that in a case of this kind, it would be the object
of a party to procure the evidence of the oldest witnesses — their greater
age lending an additional value to their testimony.

" John Thirlewalle, of the age of fifty-four, armed thirty-two years
and more, being asked whether the arms Azure, a bend Or, belonged to
Sir Richard Scrope, said, certainly, and that he would well prove it by
evidence ; for the grandfather of the said Sir Richard, who was named
William Le Scrope, was made a knight at Falkirk in Scotland under the
banner of the good King Edward with the Longshanks, as his (the De-

THE SCROPE AND GROSI1ENOR CONTROVERSY. 205

ponent's) father told and shewed him before his death, for his father was
through old age bedridden, and could not walk for some time before his
decease 3 and whilst he so lay he heard some one say that people said
that the father of Sir Richard was no gentleman because he was the
King's Justice ; and his (Deponent's) father called his sons before him,
of whom he the said John was the youngest of all his brethren, and said,
' My sons, I hear that some say that Sir Henry Scrope is no great gen-
tleman because he is a man of the law, but I tell you certainly, that his
father was made a knight at Falkirk in these arms, Azure, a bend Or,
and they are descended from great and noble gentlemen j and if any one
say otherwise, do ye testify that I have said so of truth, upon faith and
loyalty j and if I were young I would hold and maintain my saying to
the death.' And his (the Deponent's) father, when he died, was of the
age of seven score and five, [** ans & v.] and was when he died the
oldest esquire of all the North, and had been armed during sixty-nine
years, and has been dead forty-four years."

Here we have another indication of the military feeling', so prevalent
in that age, that prompted men to disparage the law, as if gentle blood
and that profession were hardly compatible ; men said, " Sir Henry
Scrope is no gentleman, because he is a man of the law." " He is not a
gentleman, but the King's Justice." And yet, perhaps, in the particular
instance, it was only an exemplification of the coxcombry of the young
" bloods " of the time, which received a fitting rebuke from the dying
lips of the aged warrior, the veteran esquire, " the oldest of all the
North," who had seen Scrope wielding with credit both the pen and the
sword, and, perhaps, had heard him priding himself, in spite of the sneers
of his illiterate comrades, on the rare union of these opposite accom-
plishments, and mentally ejaculating with Dante's hero,

" Assai con senno feci e con la spada."

And so even in this age (how different !) our young cocks, to borrow an
expression of Sir Walter Scott, in a letter tvi his son, crow after the
same fashion, and the man of action derides the man of contemplation,
'* the patient bookworm," and sneers at the process

" Slow, exhausting thought
And hiving wisdom with each studious year." — BYRON.

Not so the truly wise. In a later but not an unchivalrous age, that hero
whose ashes still lie (shame to Scotland) in a nameless grave, upon
whose shoulders the mantle of loyal and chivalrous feeling descended, as
to a legitimate self-elected champion, the great Montrose, scorned not
the double grace, and thus addressed the object of his affections :

" For if no faithless action stain,

Thy truth and plighted word,
I'll make thee famous with my pen,
And glorious with my sword."

To return. Little did those scornful men foresee, that it would not be
long before members of the profession of which they affected to think so
lightly would be self-dubbed, and without question, " Esquires by office;"
nay, would be entitled to take rank, by the sanction of the Earl Marshal
himself, with their military rivals : a consideration calculated to make
those sturdy soldiers now turn round in their graves!

On the Continent, it appears from Selden (Titles of Honor), that it

206 THK SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

was at one time much doubted, whether a civilian could be invested with
the gold spurs of knighthood ; until Bartolus or Baldus, we forget
which, settled it in the affirmative. It might be interesting to learn the
reasons that swayed him in so deciding.

The questions proposed to the deponents of Sir Richard Scrope would
seem to have been the following : —

Do the arms az. with a bend or belong, or ought they of right to be-
long, to Sir Richard Scrope ? Have you heard or seen that the ancestors
of Sir Richard have borne the said arms ; and if so, have you heard by
what title or right they have borne them ? Have you heard who was
the first ancestor of Sir Richard Scrope who used them? Sometimes is
superadded the question, where the witness is supposed to incline to the
defence, Are you of the affinity or blood of Sir Robert Grosvenor ?

Some witnesses said, that Scrope's ancestor came over with William
the Conqueror j others, that he was temp Edward the Confessor j
others, that he came with Robert de Gant at the Conquest; others, that
he had borne the arms from King Arthur. Lord Grey de Ruthen said,
that he knew nothing of the Grosvenors, but that he had once purchased
from " one Emma Grovenour a black mare for twenty-two pounds."
This Emma Grosvenor was, as we have seen, the heiress of Mobberley,
who married the grandfather of the defendant.

When Sir William Brereton was called on behalf of Sir Richard
Scrope, and sworn, neither the entreaty of the proctor nor the admoni-
tion of the commissioners could induce him to open his lips to give
testimony; silence, says Sir Harris Nicolas, explained by his relationship
to the Grosvenors. He was fined 20/. for his contumacy.

With John Leycester,Esquier, we confess we think that the author deals
somewhat harshly, in attributing to him any undue feeling, in his protes-
tations of ignorance to the questions proposed to him; for those ques-
tions respected, as we have shown, merely the right of Sir Richard
Scrope, nor do we see why his admission, when examined for the
defendant, that he was his cousin in the third or fourth degree, should
make us conclude that the deponent had wilfully swerved from the truth
in his first examination.

The Scrope witnesses, for the most part, speak not merely to the
rights of Sir Richard Scrope, but to their ignorance, not only of the
rights but of the existence, either of Sir Robert or his family. There is,
however, one notable exception in the person of a member of the illus-
trious house of Percy, Sir Thomas Percy, afterwards Earl of Worcester,
brother of the Earl of Northumberland, who, although he gives strong
testimony to the Scrope right, yet admits that he has heard 'that Sir
Robert Grosvenor was a gentleman of high degree (grants gentilx
home). On the Grosvenor side, the negative evidence as to Scrope's
rights was almost equally strong, and some of the deponents even went
so far as to say, they had never heard of Sir Richard, a species of reta-
liation somewhat amusing, but which, from the distinguished position of
th^ noble plaintiff, must have almost argued themselves unknown.

Robert de Stanlegh, Esquire, had heard since the suit, that the said
Sir Richard Scrope, and Henry his father, had borne the said arms, but
no other of their progenitors before them.

Richard Talbot says, that he had heard many say that Sir Richard
Scrope was only the third in the line of his ancestors who had borne the
said arms.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 207

In one instance, that of Sir Thomas Mandevill, whose name is not
upon the roll of witnesses, the evidence of a witness was sent to the
Constable and Marshal in the form of a letter, which Sir Harris Nicolas
found in the Harleian Collection. We give another similar testimonial
of the Earl of Oxford at length, from a transcript also in one of the
Harleian MSS., 1178, 436, not because any new fact is stated, or any
additional light thrown upon the question litigated, but because it illus-
trates the loose course of proceeding in the Court of Chivalry, which ad-
mitted, it would seem, " all evidence of an honourable and authentic
nature except battle, which was in this case expressly excluded," the
reason being, that the dispute was susceptible of establishment by oral
and written testimony, and therefore battle, which was an appeal to the
decision of God on the failure of human evidence, could not, upon the
customary rules, be resorted to ; but the chief reason why we insert this
document is, because Sir Harris Nicolas has neither given it in his
notes, nor even alluded to its existence.

It is entitled " A letter testimoniall," but is somewhat strangely de-
scribed in the Harleian Catalogue as " Literse Patentes Alberici de Veer
Com. Oxoniensis, quibus testimonium rogatus adhibuit suum, in causa
Armorum ventilata, inter Ricardum le Scrope et Robertum Grosvenour,
dat. 11 die Martij, ann. 14 R. K. Richardi II."

It commences —

"As honorables Srs Constable et Mareshall d'Engleterre Aubry de Veer
honors et reverence. Pur ceo q. Monsr Richard le Scrop a chalenge
Monsr Robert Grovenour en la viage nostre Sr le Roy darrein fait en
Escoce portant ses armes d'azure ove bende d'ore, et a poursue centre
le dit MODS'. Robert en vre. honorable Court de Chivalrie, come ley et
raison de armes denmunde selon 1'ordinance roial fait devant le dit Chi-
valrie tanq' ati temps q. vous lui avez ajuge de faire son prove contre le
dit Monsr Robert par tons proves honorables et autentiques forsprist le bataille
q. vous eschuez en tons cases ou vous pouvez avoir autre prouve. Et sur ceo
m'a requis de vous certifier la conissana que je ay en ladite matiere. Si
vous certifie et tesmoigne a verite par certes rnes lettres ouertees, exse-
lees de mon seal q. en la temps que jay este arme en batailles et autres
journees jay voir et conu q. le dit Monsr Richard a porte ses ditz armes
d'azure ove une bend d'ore et plusieurs de son norn et linage qui ont
portez mesme les armes ove differences come braunches de mesme les
nom et armes et si en band, penon et cotearmure, et ny qie de mes aun-
cestres q. en mesme le maniere ses armes susditz ount este portez en
leur temps par les auncestres de dit Monsr Richard. Et Unques en mon
temps n'ay ven le dit Monsr Robert Grovenor, ne nul de son nom porter
le ditz armes devant la darneyr chivache Monsr Sr le Roy susdit ne ay
oie q. ses auncestres ont fait devant. Done a Londres le onzieme jour
deMarse,l'an du regne le Roy Richard second puis le conquest noevisme."

The above is inserted in a miscellaneous collection made by the Herald
Lennard.

In the Scrope cause of arms, trial by battle was, we have seen,
expressly excluded j but in the cause of Grey de Ruthyn against Hastings,
the proceedings became even more dramatic, the lie was given by the
defendant to the plaintiff in open court, and an appeal to the arbitre-
ment of arms (not however even there allowed it would seem,) made.
After calling upon Grey to abandon the use of the arms in dispute 5 in

208 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

the event of his refusal, Hastings (following probably a formula of
words) thus concludes : —

" I require thee, by vertue of thy knighthood, that thou stand by
thy word in thy proper person, till it be determined by our bodies as
knighthood will, the which worde thou hast replied by thine owne
mouth, against the word of answeare given by my mouth and written
with my hand, and ensealed with my seal in the same court, and that
thou pursue deligently withouten feintis by thee and thy frendes, that
the worde be admitted for full proof, the which worde as thy partie
ben there in substance. Thou lyes falsely lewed knight, and that I am
ready to prove with my bodye against thy body, and therefore here
is my glove to wedde, and I aske day and place."*

If one counsel demurred to another counsel's law, this was said some
years ago to have been good ground for a duel in Dublin, a mode of pro-
ceeding not unreasonable if viewed in analogy to the chivalrous practice
wherever the legal point involved such difficulties in its decision as to
transcend human abilities or ingenuity to unravel ! ! Then was the
knot deo vindice nodus, proper to be left to the decision of God, made
manifest by the result of a duel ! ! !

" On the part of Sir Richard Grosvenor (says Ormerod) were examined
nearly all the knights and gentlemen of Cheshire and Lancashire, with
several of the Abbots and other clergy, all of whom deposed to the
usage of the arms by the Grosvenors, and to having seen them painted
on windows, standards, and monuments in twenty four churches,
chapels and monasteries in Cheshire ; the family charters and deeds, with
seals appendant, exhibiting the same bearing, were produced before the
court, and it was stated on the authority of chronicles and monastic re-
cords that all the ancestors of Sir Robert had used the same coat from
time immemorial, and more particularly that it was used by Gilbert le
Grosvt nor, at the Conquest j by Ranfe le Grosvenor, at the battle of
Lincoln ; by Robert le Grosvenor, in the crusade under Richard I. ; by
Robert 1 j Grosvenor, in the Scotch wars under Edward II. ; by another,
Robert, at Cressy, and in other battles under Edward III., and by the
claimant, Sir Robert himself as harbinger to Sir Thomas d'Audley,
lieutenant to the Black Prince, and in Berry Algayne, at the tower of
Brose, at the siege of Rocksivier, in Poictou, in Guienne, at Viers, in
Normandy, at the battle of Poictiers, at the battle of Najara in Spain,
in 1367, and lastly, at the battle of Limoges, in 1370, in the service of
the Black Prince.'' After this powerful and stringent evidence for the
defence, the weight of which the Lord High Constable himself acknow-
ledges in his sentence "de la partie du dit Robert nous avous trouves
grandes evidences et presumptions semblables en sa defence des dits
armes,'' Sir Peter Leycester may well have said without incurring any
suspicion of a local or family prejudice, " both the said partyes proved
their auncestores had successively borne the same coate of armes from
the tyme of the Norman Conquest to that present, but Sir Richard
Scrope overweighing the other with powerful friends, had the coate
avarded to him. But although the sayd Sir Robert Grosvenor had this
coat also awarded to him, with the difference of a bordure, yet he
refused the same and took unto him the coate of azure une garbe d'or ;

* See a MS. transcript of proceeding in the case of Ruthen against Hastings, Harl.
MSS., 1178, fol. 36.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 209

which coate his heyres and successoures have ever since borne to-this
moment, scorning to beare the other coate with a difference." It will be seen,
however, that a note which will be subsequently given, as cited by Sir
Karris Nicholas, from a Harleian MS., affords a somewhat different
account of the sequel of the proceedings.

On the side of Scrope were examined parties still more numerous, still
more illustrious for rank, military fame, and genius, Edmund of Langley,
Duke of York, John of Gaunt, King of Castile and Leon, both uncles of
the king, Sir John Holand, afterwards Duke of Exeter, he was brother
to the king, the Earls of Derby, Arundel, and Northumberland, the Lords
Poynings, Basset, Clifford, Dacre, Darcy, Grey of Ruthven, and Scales,be-
sides many abbots, and knights, esquires, and gentlemen, among whom
stands clearly forth, Harry Percy (Hotspur), whose spur was so soon to be-
come "cold.'' He had a subsequent connexion with the county of Chester,
by reason of his appointment of Judge of Chester, in which office, sin-
gularly enough, he succeeded William le Scrope, Earl of Wiltshire, the
unfortunate son of the plaintiff, Sir Richard. He was judge "eo modo
quo Willielmus le Scrop habuit," and he had power to act by deputy.*
But his father-in-law, Owen Glendower, from his residence on the Welsh
borders, must have known more of the bearings of Cheshire families,
and Glendower is one of the Grosvenor witnesses. But let us haste to
the issue of these accumulated proceedings ; we give it in the words
of the note cited by the learned author, from a Harleian MS.

" The Constables Judgment dyd gyve Mr Scroope thole Armes, &
Mr Grosvenor a hordre whyte to yt and Grosvenour to paye the costs
synce he toke daye of excepc'ons agenst the wytnes, but he apealyd to
the Kinge, & uttrelye refusyd the newe apoyntyd armes and Judgment,
wherfor the King gave Judgement as followeth

27 Maij A° 13, 1390, A° p'mo
Bonifacij noni pape.

The K's Judgement geven in the great chambre of P'liament wthin
his palyce Royall at Westm' present wth ym his uncles the Dukes of
Gwyen & Glowcestre, the Bishope of London, the Lords John Roos,
Raufe Nevyll & John Lovell, John Dev'eux Steward of his howsse, his
Vycechamb'layne Henrye P'cye the sone, Mathewe de Gourney, Hugh
Zowche, Bryan de Stapleton, Rychard Addreburye & WilPmde Far-
ringdon Knights & others, that tharmes shuld whollye remayne to
Sr Rychard Scroope & his heyres, & Mr Grosvenour to have no p'te
therof bycawsse he was a stranger vnto the same.

And for the byll of thexpencs amountynge to iiijc Ixvj11 xiij8 iiijd spent
betwene the 9th of Octobre A° 11 Rich'i ijdi, wch was the daye that the
seid Roberte had taken excepc'ons agenst the wytnesses untyll the 27
of Maye A° 13 wch daye the Kinge gave Judgement & by the Comys-
saryes vidz the Busshoppe of London, the Lord Cobham, Mr John
Barnet, & Rychard Rouhale, hyt was ceassyd to L m'kes, but aft re for
that the seid Roberte wold not appeare but was obstynate hyt was
agayne ceassyd by the Kinge to vc m'kes, beinge on Munday the fyrst
day of the P'lyament 3rd of Octobre A° 15 Rich'i ij^, these beinge
present, the Duke of Gwyen, the Archebusshoppe of Dyvelye, the
Busshopps of London Chestre & Chychestre, the Erles of Darby
Rutland M'che Arundell Huntyngton & Northumb'land, the Lords
Roos Nevyll & Cobham & other.

* See Ormerod's Cheshire, vo\. \. p. 58.

210 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

Wh seid Som' of vc m'kes the seyd Sr Roberta Grosvenour requestyd
the seyd Sr Rychard Scroope to forgive hym, who agayne answeryd that
he had so ivell usyd hym & belyed hym in his Awnsweres, that he
des'vyd no courtesye ; who agayne aunswerd hyt was not his doings
but his Counsellors to make his mattre seame the bettre, and that
he knewe he dyd not well nor seyd trewlye therin, wheruppon he agayne
answeryd that yf he wolde so openlye declare p'fesse & confesse & be
content hit shuld so be enteryd of recourde, wch he requestyd the Kinge
hit myght be, that then he wold forgyve hym, wch was done accordinglye
and the Som' forgeven & they made frynds afor the Kinge in the
P'lyament howsse."

It needs only to peruse the sentence of the Lord High Constable,
delivered by the advice of the marshal and the " conseille de chivalrie"
to be certain that the less powerful and influential of the two parties
was hardly dealt with. For, although in a cause of arms, each was
quasi an actor or plaintiff, and therefore the important principle of the
civil law (adopted from its essential propriety into every modern system
of jurisprudence), potior est conditio defendentis ; might be considered
as inapplicable, still no law of justice or principle of reason could pos-
sibly require that a defendant should, under any circumstances, have
entailed upon him the necessity of a greater amount of proof than a
plaintiff, and yet what says the Lord High Constable in his sentence ?*
" That the said Sir Richard Scrope, Knight, party actor, has fully and
sufficiently proved his claim, touching the said arms by witnesses,
chronicles, and other sufficient evidences, and that the said Sir Robert has
not in any respect disproved the proofs of the said Sir Richard, and there-
fore he awarded, pronounced, and declared that Scrope should bear the
entire arms, &c." So that the Cheshire knight was, it seems, not merely
called upon to prove an uninterrupted use by himself and his ancestors,
but to prove actually the negative, that no one else had a similar right
to the same ensigns. Now, that two parties might be allowed the
same arms where user could be satisfactorily proved by each is evident,
because Carminow, had, it appears in the course of these very proceed-
ings been awarded the selfsame use of arms.

One of the Grosvenor witnesses deposed that, but for the chal-
lenge made by Scrope of the arms az. a bend or, Sir Robert Gros-
venor would himself have become the challenger or plaintiff. Had he
done so, the subsequent sentence might, upon similar reasoning, have
been retained, changing merely the names of Scrope and Grosvenor,
where these occurred : for " the testimony of two hundred witnesses the
evidence of chronicles and charters might be said to have sufficiently
proved the claim of Grosvenor, and the said Sir Richard had not in any
respect disproved the proofs of the said Sir Robert.

The well descended wealthy Cheshire Knight could not stand against
the prestige, and perhaps political influence of the warrior statesman
Scrope, a Baron of the Realm who had already proved his own right in a
previous suit of arms, and had not, according to Walsingham, " his fel-
low (of his degree) in the whole kingdom for prudence and inte-
grity.'' It may be said without any injurious conclusion, that Scrope
had for judges, not merely companions in arms, but personal friends.
An impartial reader will be inclined to think that the decisions in

* Vol. i. p. 7.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 211

the first instance, and on appeal, involved at least a slight to the rising-
family of Grosvenor, and that as the evidence on both sides tended to show
a long use of the arms by both families, it would have been a fairer
and less invidious mode of proceeding to have either given entirely new
bearings to each claimant, or to have left them each the main features
of the ancient insignia, obliging both noblemen to assume certain differ-
ences. When the gay decorations of the gondolas of the Venetian
Patricians, commencing in a pardonable emulation, had at last led to
dangerous rivalry and animosity, to feuds on the quays and furious
contests and brawls upon the canals, the council of ten dealt summarily,
but, at least, impartially, with the evil. No longer did the lagunes
reflect the gay colours and floating banners of any of the nobles, but
assumed an appearance more in harmony with the gloomy grandeur of
the palaces, and the solemn majesty of the more ancient edifices.
Dark, unadorned, hearse-like looking boats glided noiselessly upon the
unruffled surface of the waters, and but for the inherent vivacity and
merriment of the Venetian people, and the graceful lightness and
elegance of the subsequent architectural erections of Palladio, the
brilliancy of its sun, and the clear blue of its heaven, Venice would
in appearance have anticipated the period when she became in the
language of modern English poetry, " the city of the dead." The
ordinance in question forbad any ornaments to be used for gondolas, and
prescribed for all one uniform colour, which they still preserve to this
day, "the sober livery of solemn black."

What better,whatmoreconclusiveevidence of the antiquity of thenobility
of any family in the British Peerage than that here produced on the part
of Grosvenor ? Here are upwards of two hundred of respectable witnesses
to the high pretensions of the family, crying aloud in the middle of the
14th century, in the presence of peers, spiritual and temporal, of the most
renowned knights and warriors of Crecy and Poictiers, nay, of very royalty
itself, " Grosvenor is a name of ancient fame — Grosvenor is a scion
of royal stock — its founder, a nephew of Hugh Lupus, first Earl of
Chester. Grosvenor bore arms az. a bend or from the Conquest.''
Grosvenor is our kinsman, ejaculate members of some of the oldest
houses of Cheshire, the Breretons, the Davenports, the Vernons, the
Etons, the Leycesters, the Stanleys, and the Daniels, &e. What, though
some state themselves to be " cosyns del dit Mons. Robert, only, en
le tierce et quarte degres," the more distant the relationship the more
remote the common ancestor, the more remote the common ancestor
the more ancient the family. But the nobility, that is the gentle blood
of the house of Grosvenor, was not in question at that early period, for
the proceedings themselves style the defendant "nobilem virum Rober-
tum Grosvenor militem."*

No exception was taken to the nobility of the house but only to its right
to bear the particular arms. But who was that Carminow of Cornwall,
styled by Sir Harris Nicolas (on what authority we know not as we find it
not in these depositions) an Esquire? Who was the party calledt " un dez
Carmynaue de Cornewall," who succeeded in a contest in which Grosve-
nor failed ? Did he triumphantly vindicate his claim to the arms, by the

* Vol. i. pp. 15 and 23.

t See deposition of John Tapcliffe, Esquire, vol. i, p. 213—4.

212 THK SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

intrinsic merits of his case or by the intercession of powerful friends or
the employment of court favor? Of the family, Collins* tells us that
was considered the most considerable in Cornwall for antiquity and pos-
sessions. About the time of the proceedings in question, it numbered
amongst its members at least three knights, Sir Oliver, Sir Thomas, and
Sir Walter, and amongst its alliances by marriage (unerring sign of ancient
blood) some of the oldest names in Cornwall. At a subsequent period John
Carminow of Resprins was more famous for his wealth than any other
of his name or house, or than any other family in Cornwall. His Christmas
entertainments are recorded to have been on an extraordinary scale of mu-
nificent hospitality, the allowance for twelve days being twelve bullocks,
fifty bushels of wheat, thirty-six sheep, besides hogs, lambs and fowls of all
sorts. His son, however, squandered away the greater part of his inhe-
ritance, and the rest passed through coheiresses to the Boscawens, Earls
of Falmouth. The last heir male of the Carminows died in 1646, but
several of the most noted county families, the Coles, Courtenays,Prideaux,
Trevanions and Arundels of Lanherne, denote by their quarterings their
descent from female heiresses of different branches of that ancient stock.

" It is a melancholy reflection to look back on so many great families,
(says Dr. Borlase,and he ranks Carminow amongst them) as have formerly
adorned the county of Cornwall and are now no more The most
lasting families have only their seasons, more or less, of a certain con-
stitutional strength. They have their spring and summershine glares,
their wane, decline, and death j they flourish and shine perhaps for ages -,
at last they sicken 5 their light grows pale and at a crisis when the offsets
are withered and the old stock is blasted, the whole tribe disappears and
leaves the world as they have done Cornwall. There are limits ordained
to everything under the sun. Man will not abide in honour. Of all human
vanities, family pride is one of the weakest. Reader, go thy way : secure
thy name in the book of life, where the page fades not, nor the title alters,
nor expires ; leave the rest to Heralds, and the Parish register."

Who, however, we repeat, was the " one called Carminow of Cornwall,"
mentioned in the depositions of John of Gaunt and John Rither, Esquier,
as having successfully resisted the exclusive right of the Scropes to the
arms az. a bend or ? The Christian name is fixed by another witness, a
relative, Sir Thomas Fychett, who states that " Thomas Carminow of
Cornwall, who is his relation, had a controversy with the said Sir Richard
and his lineage, on account of the said arms, in France, before the Earl
of Northampton, the which Thomas Carminow proved these arms from
the time of King Arthur, and the said Sir Richard from the time of
King William the Conqueror j whereupon it was agreed, that as the said
Thomas Carminow had proved usage before the Conquest, he ought of
right to bear them : and that the said Sir Richard might also bear
them, he having proved his right from the time of King William the
Conqueror."

The individual thus selected for attack byScrope must have been one
of the heads of his family, who then could he be but the Thomas Car-
minow (mentioned in Lysons' Cornwall), afterwards knighted, who be-
came Lord Chamberlain to Richard II., and who married Elizabeth,
daughter of Joan Plantagenet, the fair maid of Kent, and therefore sister

* Peerage, vol. vii. p. 273.

THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY. 2J3

of the half blood to the King, and sister of the whole blood to Sir Thomas
Holland, Duke of Exeter, another of the deponents in this cause ? Ac-
cording to the Carminow pedigree in Polwhele's Cornwall, the cham-
berlainship is assigned to an earlier ancestor and an impossible date (1 348.)
And here again a suspicion suggests itself of a counter court favour in-
fluencing the decision, arid neutralizing the influence of the Scrope. Be
this, however, as it may, the Carminows and the Scropes were allowed to
bear simultaneously the same ensigns.*

Certainly the absence of colours, or any mark to indicate colour-
ing, on the sepulchral effigies, would constitute these a very inadequate
proof of the user of disputed arms ; and accordingly one of the deponents,
Adam Newson (vol. i. p. 68), stated "that Sir Robert Grovenour sprung
from the Grovenours of the county of Chester, whose ancestors lie buried
in the Abbey of Chester, but," he added, " the arms were not pour-
trayed in colours on their bodies." But still, this was not always so as to
their monuments, and the objection does not apply to stained windows.

The arms in question were of great simplicity, and without an effi-
cient Herald's College : and in a kingdom surrounded by distinct
enemies (the Scotch, the French, the Welsh), whose knights, until the
French wars in the reign of Edward III., rarely, it may be supposed,
served much together, but were divided to encounter their various ene-
mies, was it extraordinary, that in remote parts of the same kingdom,
three families had long used, unconsciously it may have been, the same
arms. The Carminow of Cornwall, which, in the words of one of the
deponents, " had formerly been a kingdom j" the Scropes of Yorkshire,
and the Grosvenors of the County Palatine (almost another little king-
dom) of Chester.

In our view, it was not until this reign (that of Richard II.), that the
coincidences of armorial bearings came to be much considered, the
nature of the right to bear them questioned, or that blazonry became a
science. It would seem about this time, from the frequency of the
causes brought before the Court of Chivalry, that the military forces
that had been assembled from all parts of the kingdom for the French
wars, had brought together many distinct families with the same cogni-
zances, which they then only for the tirst time became aware that
they had borne concurrently. It was worthy of note, in an heraldic
point of view, that no heralds were called to give evidence upon the
subject-matter of controversy, from which the conclusion is legitimate,
that at that period no evidences were preserved by them of right to arms,
otherwise the omission of the ancestral bearings of a house so ancient,
so powerful, and so influential, as that of Scrope undoubtedly was, would
be wholly inexplicable.

One singular feature in this trial is the strong bias in the minds of the
sets of witnesses, in behalf of the respective parties by whom they
were called j an instance of how strong was the fteling,in feudal times,
to run to clanship and rally around a great name.

The author appears to have doubted at one time whether the Hugh

* According to Polwhele the order was somewhat different, " as Scrope was a baron
of the realm, it was ordered that Carminow should still bear the same coat, but with a
pile in chief gules for distinction ; on which Carminow took up the Cornish motto.
*' Calarag Whethlow," " a straw for a talebearer."— (Language and Literature of Corn,
wall.)

VOL. IV. NO. XVII. R

214 THE SCROPE AND GROSVENOR CONTROVERSY.

Calverley, who made a deposition in the cause, was the celebrated war-
rior, Hugh ? But it seems, from the before cited note of the pro-
ceedings, in the Harleian MS., 1178, p. 191 (b), that Hugh Calverley,
Knight, acted on one occasion as deputy for the Constable, May 6, 1386.
Now he could hardly be both judge and witness.

Thus, reader, have we at length fulfilled our task, and have endea-
voured, by a comparatively brief narrative, to turn your attention to a
singular judicial pageant of the fourteenth century, to a spectacle in
which kings, poets, statesmen, and warriors were actors, England the
stage, the world of Chivalry the audience, and the subject that charac-
teristic creation of knightly honour and feudal institutions, "Cotearmure."
Would we study the genius, the manners of a people, where should we
better seek them than in these graphic delineations of national wisdom
or folly, these contemporary records that hold a faithful mirror to the
age, and fix the reflection for the study, the admiration, or the marvel of
future generations? A remark, we believe it is, of Mr. Hallam, that the
character, the individuality of a distinct people, is lost sight of, or vainly
looked for in the abstract page of general history ; and if we would
really know what manner of men our ancestors were, what they did, how
they felt and thought, we must approach them in the chronicles, the
books of letters, or familiar literature of their day. How, we may con-
fidently ask, can we better acquaint ourselves with the lives and opinions
and sentiments of our steel-clad progenitors (coevals of the Black Prince)
than by a perusal of what they say in the case of Scrope and Grosvenor ?
Many a patient antiquary has, perhaps, in former times applied himself
to the labour (to him a labour of love) of decyphering the faded, con-
tracted text, of perusing the Law Latin and the Norman French, in
which the testimony of abbots and priors, of nobles and knights, lies
confounded together in the lengthy parchments of the Scrope and Gros-
venor roll, and if all difficulties surmounted, he who runs may now
read, the praise, the honour is due to the untiring exertions of Sir Harris
Nicolas. His two volumes we have perused with profit and pleasure,
and shall look forward with interest to the third and concluding volume,
long ago promised, and too long deferred, in which the author proposes
to give us a history of the influential house of Grosvenor, and to com-
plete his biographical notices of thfe remaining witnesses. *

* Sir Peter Leycester made extracts from an account of the pleadings in the suit,
and collated them with the originals in the Tower. The extracts exist among the
Tabley Papers, but the Grosvenor transcript is, we believe, said to be lost.

215

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

(Continued).

MACDUFF. O horror! horror ! horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive,

nor name thee !

MACBETH, LENNOX. What's the matter ?
MACDUFF. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece !

Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope

The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence

The life o' the building.

MACBETH. What is't you say ? the life ?

LENNOX. Mean you his maj esty ?

SHAKESPEARE.

JAMES I., the British Solomon, whom the Duke of Sulley termed the
wisest fool in Europe, ended his life and reign of questionable repute
peaceably enough. His death happened the 27th March, 1625, in the
fifty-ninth year of his age, and the twenty-third of his sovereignty.
His indisposition was at first considered a tertian ague, afterwards the
gout in the stomach; but, whatever was its real nature, under his
obstinacy in refusing medicine, and the hesitation or ignorance of his
physicians, it proved fatal. On the eleventh day he received the sacra-
ment in the presence of his son, his favourite, and his attendants, with a
serenity of mind and fervour of devotion which drew tears from the
eyes of the beholders. " Being told that men in holy orders in the church
of England doe challange a power as inhaerent in their function and not
in their person, to pronounce and declare remission of sins to such as
being penitent doe call for the same ; he answered suddenly, I have ever
beleeved there was the power in you that be in the orders in the church
of England, and therefore I, a miserable sinner, doe humbly desire
Almighty God to absolve me of my sinnes, and you, that are his servant
in that high place, to affoord me this heavenly comfort. And after the
absolution read and pronounced, hee received the sacrament with the
zeale and devotion, as if he had not been a fraile man, but a cherubin
cloathed with flesh and blood." Early on the fourteenth he sent for
Charles : but before the prince could reach the chamber, the king had
lost the faculty of speech, and in the course of a few hours expired, in
the fifty-ninth year of his age, and the twenty-third of his reign. Of
his seven children, three sons and four daughters, two only survived
him ; Charles, his successor on the throne, and Elizabeth, the titular
queen of Bohemia.

We now come to that regal death, which, on the part of him who endured
it was the most glorious in the annals of English history. Let his errors
have been what they may, one cannot recur to that terrible termination
of the life of Charles I., without feelings of deep reverence, awe, and
admiration. Charles, with his cavaliers about him, supported the prin-
ciple of monarchy against rebellion in arms. Again, when defenceless
and alone, in the power of his ruthless enemies, he maintained unflinch-

R 2

216 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

ingly the same principle against rebellion triumphant. He sanctified
that principle in his blood, and by doing so, saved the constitution.
During the long period of republicanism, and then anarchy which
ensued, the sight of a king dying on the scaffold for his cause passed
not from the recollection of his people. The fact was there, impressed
upon and irremoveable from the minds of men, that the commonwealth
party, to obtain dominion, had been forced to cut the king's head off
with the crown upon it. He had yielded nothing — forfeited nothing.
The principle of monarchy remained— obscured indeed, but sparkling
ever and anon, and ready at any moment to burst forth into permanent
brilliancy again. It was, to use the words of the poet, a

Glimpse of glory ne'er forgot

Which told like the gleam on a sunset sea

What once had been, what then was not,
But oh ! what again would brightly be.

And yet, with all his spirit and determination, how like a Christian
Charles met the approach of his fearful death. There was not one par-
ticle of ostentation in his courage, or his piety. He evinced the meek-
ness and resolution of a martyr. His very conduct on the scaffold
awoke the crowd around him to the deep damnation of his taking off.
His death was indeed the triumph of his cause.

The details of the martyrdom of King Charles are so familiar, that
it would seem almost unnecessary to insert them here, yet the omission
would go to exclude the most important portion of this regal necrology :
moreover, the narrative cannot be read too often, for, it is right that, at
every opportunity, we should

question this most bloody piece of work

And know it farther.

Charles as is well known, underwent a mock trial before the sham
High Court of Justice. He denied and rejected its authority, jurisdic-
tion or legality, and he was sentenced by it to be beheaded. This doom
was pronounced on Saturday, the 27th January, 1649. The court, after
judgment given, went into the Painted- Chamber, and appointed Sir
Hardress Waller, Ireton, Harrison, Dean and Okey, to consider of the
time and place for the execution.

The king was taken by the guards to Sir Robert Cotton's house, and
as he passed down stairs, the rude soldiers scoffed at him, blew the smoke
of their tobacco in his face (a thing always very offensive to him)
strewed pieces of pipes in his way, and one, more insolent than the rest,
spit in his face, which his majesty patiently wiped off, taking no further
notice of it : and as he passed farther, hearing some of them cry out,
Justice, justice, and execution, he said, " Alas ! poor souls, for a piece of
money, they would do as much for their commanders." Afterwards the
king hearing that his execution was determined to be the next day,
before his palace at Whitehall, he sent an officer in the army to desire
that he might see his children before his death, and that Dr. Juxon,
Bishop of London, might be permitted to assist him in his private
devotions, and receiving the sacrament, both which were granted to him
upon a motion to the parliament.

Next day being Sunday, he was attended by a guard to St. James's,
where the bishop preached before him upon these words : " In the day

THE DKATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 2 17

when God shall judge the secrets of all men by Jesus Christ, according
to my gospel.''

The same day that the warrant was signed for his execution, the
Duke of Gloucester, and the Lady Elizabeth, were brought to him,
whom he received with great joy and satisfaction, and giving his
blessing to the princess, he bade her remember to tell her brother
James, that he should no more look upon Charles as his elder brother
only, but as his sovereign, and forgive their father's enemies. Then
taking the Duke of Gloucester upon his knee, said, Sweet heart, now
they will cut off thy father's head, (at which words the child looked
very wishfully upon him). Mark, child, what I say $ they will cut off my
head, and, perhaps, make thee a king: but mark what I say, you must
not be a king so long as your brothers Charles and James are alive j for
they will cut off your brothers' heads, as soon as they can catch them,
and cut thy head off too at last, and therefore I charge you, do not be
made a king by them. At which the child sighing, said, " I will be
torn in pieces first."

The warrant for his Majesty's execution was signed on the 2Qth, and
ran thus : —

"Whereas Charles Stewart, king of England, is, and standeth convicted*
attainted and condemned of high-treason, and other high crimes, and sentence*
upon Saturday last, was pronounced against him by this court, to be put to
death, by the severing of his head from his body ; of which sentence execution
yet remaineth to be done : These are therefore to will and require you to see
the said sentence executed in the open street, before Whitehall, upon the
morrow, being the 30th day of January, between the hours of ten in the
morning and five in the afternoon of the same day, with full effect, and for
so doing, this shall be your sufficient warrant, and these are to require all officers,
soldiers, and others the good people of this nation of England, to be assisting
unto you in this service.

To Colonel Francis -Hacker, Colonel Huncks and

Lieutenant-Colonel Phory, and to every of them.

Given under our hands and seals, sealed and subscribed by

John Bradshaw, Thomas Horton, Henry Martin,

Thomas Grey, John Jones, Vincent Potter,

Oliver Cromwell, John More, William Constable,

Edward Whaley, Hardress Waller, Richard Ingoldsby,

Michael Livesay, Gilbert Millington, William Cawley,

John Okey, John Alured, John Barkstead,

John Peters, Robert Lilburn, Isaac Ewers,

John Bouchier, William Say, John Dixwell,

Henry Ireton, Anthony Stapeley, Valentine Walton,

Thos. Mauleverer, Richard Dean, Gregory Norton,

John Blackiston, Robert Titchburn, Thomas Challoner,

John Hutchinson, Humphrey Edwards, Thomas Wogan,

William Goffe, Daniel Blagrave, JohnVen, M

Thomas Pride, Owen Roe, Gregory Clement,

Peter Temple, William Purefoy, John Downs,

Thomas Harrison, Adrian Scrope,j Thomas Temple,

John Huson, James Temple. Thomas Scot,

Henry Smith, Augustine Garland, John Carew,

Peregrine Pelham, Edmond Ludlow, Miles Corbet.
Simon Meyne,

On the next day, being the 30th January, the Bishop of London read
divine service in his presence, and the 2rth of St. Matthew, the history

218 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

of our Saviour's passion, being appointed by the church for that day, he
gave the bishop thanks for his seasonable choice of the lesson ; but the
bishop acquainting him that it was the service of the day, it comforted
him exceedingly, and then he proceeded to receive the holy sacrament.
His devotions being ended, he was brought from St. James's to White-
hall, by a regiment of foot, part before, and part behind, with a private
guard of partisans about him, the Bishop of London on the one hand,
and Colonel Tomlinson, who had the charge of him, on the other,
bareheaded. The guards marched at a slow pace, the king bade them
go faster, saying, that he now went before them to strive for a heavenly
crown, with less solicitude than he had often encouraged his soldiers
to fight for an earthly diadem. Being come to the end of the park, he
went up the stairs leading to the long gallery in Whitehall, where
formerly he used to lodge, and there finding an unexpected delay, the
scaffold being not ready, he past most of the time in prayer. About
twelve o'clock (his Majesty refusing to dine, only ate a bit of bread and
drank a glass of claret) Colonel Hacker, with other officers and soldiers,
brought the king, with the bishop, and Colonel Tomlinson, through the
banqueting-house, to the scaffold, a passage being made through a
window. There might have been nothing mysterious in the delay : if
there was, it may perhaps be explained from the following circumstance.

Four days had now elapsed since the arrival of ambassadors from the
Hague to intercede in his favour. It was only on the preceding evening
that they had obtained audiences of the two houses, and hitherto no
answer had been returned. In their company came Seymour, the bearer
of two letters from the prince of Wales, one addressed to the king, the
other to Lord Fairfax. He had already delivered the letter, and with it a
sheet of blank paper subscribed with the name and sealed with the
arms of the prince. It was the price which he offered to the grandees
of the army for the life of his father. Let them fill it up with the con.
ditions : whatever they might be, they were already granted : his seal
and signature were affixed. It is not improbable that this offer may
have induced the leaders to pause. That Fairfax laboured to postpone
the execution, was always asserted by his friends; and we have evidence
to prove that, though he was at Whitehall, he knew not, or at least
pretended not to know, what was passing.

In the mean while Charles enjoyed the consolation of learning that
his son had not forgotten him in his distress. By the indulgence of
Colonel Tomlinson, Seymour was admitted, delivered the letter, and
received the royal instructions for the prince. He was hardly gone,
when Hacker arrived with the fatal summons. About two o'clock
the king proceeded through the long gallery, lined on each side with
soldiers, who, far from insulting the fallen monarch, appeared by their
sorrowful looks to sympathise with his fate. At the end an aperture had
been made in the wall, through which he stepped at once upon the
scaffold. It was hung with black : at the further end were seen the two
executioners, the block, and the axe j below appeared in arms several
regiments of horse and foot ; and beyond, as far as the eye was per-
mitted to reach, waved a dense and countless crowd of spectators. The
king stood collected and undismayed amidst the apparatus of death.
There was in his countenance that cheerful intrepidity, in his demeanour
that dignified calmness, uhich had characterised, in the hall of Forther-
ingay, his royal grandmother, Mary Stuart. A strong guard of several

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 21Q

regiments of horse and foot, were planted on all sides, which hindered the
near approach of the people, and the king being upon the scaffold,
chiefly directed his speech to the bishop and Colonel Tomlinson, to this
purpose : —

I shall be very little heard of any body else ; I shall therefore speak
a word to you here : Indeed, I could have held my peace well, if I did
not think that holding my peace would make some men think that
I did submit to the guilt, as well as the punishment ; but I think it is
my duty to God first, and then to my country, to clear myself, both as
an honest man, a good king, and a good Christian. I shall begin first
with my innocency, and, in troth, I think it not very needful to insist
long upon this; for all the world knows, that 1 did never begin a war
with the two houses of parliament, and I call God to witness, unto
whom I must shortly make an account, that I did never intend to
encroach upon their privileges ; they began upon me. It is the militia
they began upon; they confessed the militia was mine, but they thought
tit to have it from me : And, to be short, if any body will look to the
dates of commission, of their commissions and mine, and likewise to
the declaration, he will see clearly, that they began these troubles, and
not I. So as for the guilt of these enormous crimes that are laid against
me, I hope that God will clear me. I will not, for I am in charity, and
God forbid I should lay it upon the two houses of parliament, there is
no necessity for either: I hope they are free of this guilt j but
I believe, that ill instruments between them and me, have been the cause
of all this bloodshed ; so that as I find myself clear of this, I hope, and
pray God, that they may too : Yet, for all this, God forbid I should be
so ill a Christian, as not to say God's judgments are just upon me.
Many times he doth pay justice by an unjust sentence — that is ordinary,
I will say this, that an unjust sentence that I suffered to take effect, is
punished by an unjust sentence upon me: So far I have said, to shew
you, that I am an innocent man.

Now, to show that I am a good Christian, I hope there is a good
man [pointing to the bishop] that will bear me witness, that I have for-
given all the world, and even those in particular that have been the cause
of my death ; who they are, God knows ; I do not desire to know : I
pray God forgive them. But this is not all, my charity must go farther ;
I wish that they may repent. Indeed, they have committed a great sin
in that particular. 1 pray God, with St. Stephen, that it be not laid
to their charge ; and withal, that they may take the way to the peace of
the kingdom ; for my charity commands me not only to forgive particular
men, but endeavour to the last gasp, the peace of the kingdom. So,
Sirs, I do wish with all my soul (I see there are some here that will
carry it farther) the peace of the kingdom. Sirs, I must show you how
you are out of the way, and put you in the way. First, You are out of
the way ; for certainly all the ways you ever had yet, as far as ever I
could find by any thing, are wrong. If in the way of conquest, certainly
this is an ill way ; for conquest, in my opinion, is never just, except
there be a good and just cause, either tor matter or wrong, or a just
title ; and then if you go beyond the first quarrel, that makes that
unjust at the end that was just at first; for if there be only matter of
conquest, then it is a robbery, as a pirate said to Alexander, that he was
a great robber, himself was bat a petty robber. And so, Sirs, 1 think
for the way that you are in, you are much out of the way. Now, Sirs,

220 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGN'S OF ENGLAND.

to put you in the way, believe it, you shall never go right, nor God will
never prosper you, until you give God his due, the king his due (that
is my successor) and the people their due : I am as much for them as
any of you. You must give God his due, by regulating the church
(according to the Scripture) which is now out of order j and to set you
in a way particularly now, I cannot; but only this, a national synod
freely called, freely debating among themselves, must settle this, when
every opinion is freely heard. For the king (then turning to a gentle-
man that touched the axe, he said, hurt not the axe that may hurt me).
Indeed, I will not — the laws of the land will clearly instruct you for that j
therefore, because it concerns my own particular, I give you a touch
of it. For the people, truly I desire their liberty and freedom as
much as any body whosoever j hut I must tell you, that their liberty
and freedom consists in having government under those laws, by which
their lives and their goods may be most their own. It is not in having
a share in the government, that is nothing appertaining to them : A
subject and a sovereign are clear differing things, and therefore, until
you do that, I mean, that you put the people into that liberty, as I say,
they will never enjoy themselves.

Sirs, it was for this that now I am come hither, for if I would have
given way to an arbitrary course, to have all laws changed, according to
the power of the sword, I need not to have come here; and therefore I
tell you, (and I pray God it be not laid to your charge) that I am the
martyr of the people. In troth, Sirs, I shall not hold you any longer :
I will only say this to you, that I could have desired a little time longer,
because I would have a little better digested this I have said, and there-
fore I hope you will excuse me; I have delivered my conscience, I pray
God you take those courses that are the best for the good of the
kingdom and your own salvation.

Bishop. — Though your Majesty's affections may be very well known
as to religion ; yet it may be expected that you should say something
thereof for the world's satisfaction.

King. — I thank you heartily, my Lord, for I had almost forgotten it.
In troth, Sirs, my conscience in religion, I think, is very well known to
all the world, and therefore I declare before you all, that I die a Christian,
according to the profession of the Church of England, as I found it left
me by my father ; and this honest man, I think, will witness it.

Then turning to the officers, he said, Sirs, excuse me for this same :
I have a good cause, and I have a gracious God, I. will say no more.

Then to Colonel Hacker, he said, take care that they do not put me
to pain.

A gentleman coming near the axe, the king said, take heed of the
axe, pray take heed of the axe.

Then speaking to the executioner, he said, I shall say but very
short prayers, and when I thrust out my hands, let that be your sign.

He then called to the bishop for his night-cap, and having put it on, he
said to the executioner, does my hair trouble you 1 who desired him to
put it all under his cap, which the king did accordingly, with the help of
the executioner, and the bishop. Then turning to the executioner,
he said, I have a good cause and a righteous God on my side.

Bishop. — There is but one stage more, this stage is turbulent and full
of trouble -f it is a short one ; but you may consider, it will soon carry

THE DEATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OP ENGLAND. 221

you from earth to heaven ; and there you will find a great deal of
cordial joy and happiness.

King. — I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no
disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world.

Bishop. — You are exchanged from a temporary to an eternal crown —
a good exchange.

Then the king said, is my hair well ? and took off his cloak and his
George, giving his George to the bishop, saying, "remember." Then
he put off his doublet, and being in his waistcoat, he put on his cloak
again ; then looked upon the block, he said to the executioner, you
must set it^fast.

Executioner. — ft is fast, Sir.

King. — When I put out my hands this way (stretching them out)
then do you work. After that, having said two or three words to him-
self, as he stood with hands lift up to heaven, immediately stooping
down, he laid his neck upon the block ; and then the executioner again
putting his hair under his cap, the king, thinking he had been going to.
strike, said, stay for the sign.

Executioner. — Yes, I will, an't please your majesty.

Then, after a little pause, the king stretching forth his hands, the
executioner, at one blow, severed his head from his body.

After the stroke Was given, the body was presently coffined, and
covered with a velvet pall, immediately upon which, the bishop, and
Mr. Herbert, went with it to the back stairs to have it embalmed.
After embalming, his head was sewed on by two surgeons. This done,
the royal corpse was wrapt up in lead, covered with a velvet pall, and
then was removed to St. James's. The girdle, or circumscription of capital
letters, of lead, put about the king's coffin, had only these words, KING
CHARLES, 1648.

An extraordinary circumstance attended the deathbed of CHARLES II. ;
the king, who, at least to all outward appearance had previously been'a Pro-
testant, declared, when conscious of approaching dissolution, his adhesion
to the Church of Rome, and confessed to and received the sacrament from
a catholic priest. Most historians agree in this being the fact, but as
the catholic writers are of course more inclined to give the matter at
length, we borrow the following full details from one of them :

On the 2nd of February, 1684, the King was seized with a violent
fit of apoplexy, just as he came out of his closet, where he had been
for some time before he was dressed. The Duke of York was immedi-
ately advertised of it; but before he could get to his majesty's bed-
chamber, one Dr. King, being in the withdrawing-room, was called in,
and had let him blood ; and then, by application and remedies usual on
such occasions, (which was done by his own physicians,) he came per-
fectly again to his senses, so that next morning there were great hopes
of his recovery ; but on the fourth day, he grew so much worse that all
these hopes vanished, and the doctors declared they absolutely despaired
of his life, which made it high time to think of preparing for the other
world. Accordingly two bishops came to do their function ; who,
reading the prayers appointed in the Common Prayer Book, on that
occasion, when they came to the place where usually they exhort the
sick person to make a confession of his sins, the Bishop of Bath and
Wells, who was one of them, advertized him it was not of obligation ;
so, after a short exhortation, asked him if he were sorry for his sins ?

THE DEATHS OP THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLA.ND.

which the king saying be was, the bishop pronounced absolution j and
then asked him if he pleased to receive the sacrament? to which he
added no reply j and being pressed by the bishop several times, gave no
other answers, but that it was time enough, or that he would think of it.

The duke, who stood all this time by his Majesty's bed-side, and seeing
that notwithstanding the bishop's solicitation, he would not receive the
communion from them, and knowing the king's sentiments in the mat-
ters of religion, concerning which he had lately had frequent conferences
with him, thought it a fit opportunity to remind him of it ; and therefore,
desiring the company to stand a little from the bed, said, he was over-
joyed to find his Majesty in the same mind he was when he spoke lately
to him in his closet about religion, at which time he pleased to show
him a paper he had writ himself of controversy, and therefore asked him
if he desired he should send for a priest to him? to which the King im-
mediately replied, " For God's sake, brother, do ; and please to lose no
time." But then reflecting on the consequence, added, "but will you
not expose yourself too much by doing it ?''

The duke, who never thought of danger when the king's service
called, though but in a temporal concern, much less in an eternal one,
answered, " Sir, though it cost me my life, I will bring one to you ;" and
immediately going into the next room, and seeing never a Catholic he
could send but the Count de Castel Machlor, he dispatched him on that
errand ; and though other priests were sent for, yet it fortuned none
could be got but Father Huddlestone, Benedictine monk, who had been
so assistant to his Majesty in making his escape after the battle of Wor-
cester ; who, being brought up a pair of back stairs into a private closet,
the duke advertised the king where he was, who thereupon ordered all
the people to withdraw except the Duke j but his Royal Highness
thought fit that my Lord of Bath, who was lord of the bed-chamber then
in waiting, and my Lord Feversham, the captain of his guards, should re-
main in the room, telling the king it was not fit he should be quite
alone with his Majesty, considering the weak condition he was then in ;
and, as soon as the room was cleared, accordingly called Mr. Huddleston
in, whom his majesty received with great joy and satisfaction, telling him
he desired to die in the faith and communion of the Catholic church ;
that he was most heartily sorry for the sins of his past life, and particu-
larly for having deferred his conversion so long ; that he hoped, never-
theless, in the merits of Christ, that he was in charity with all the world,
pardoned his enemies, and begged pardon of those he had any ways
offended ; and that if it pleased God he recovered, was resolved, by his
assistance, to amend his life. Then he proceeded to make a confession of
his whole life, with exceeding tenderness of heart, and pronounced an
act of contrition with great piety and compunction. In this he spent
about an hour j and, having desired to receive all the succours fit for a
dying man, he continued making pious ejaculations, and, frequently
lifting his hands, cried, "Mercy, sweet Jesus, mercy!" 'till the priest
was ready to give him Extreme Unction ; and the sacrament being come
by the time this was ended, he asked his majesty if he desired to receive
it ? who answered, he did most earnestly, if he thought him worthy of
it. Accordingly the priest, after some further preparations, going about
to give it him, he raised himself up. and said, " let me meet my heavenly
Lord in a better posture than lying on my bed;" but being desired not
to discompose himself, he repeated the act of contrition, and then re-

THE DKATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

ceived it with great piety and devotion •, after which Father Huddleston,
making him a short exhortation, left him in so much peace of mind that
he looked approaching death in the face with all imaginable tranquillity
and Christian resolution.

The company being then called in again, his majesty expressed the
greatest kindness and tenderness for the duke that could possibly be
conceived: he owned in the most public manner, the sense he had of
his brotherly affection, during the whole course of his life, and particu-
larly in this last action j he commended his great submission and con-
stant obedience to all his commands ; and asked him pardon aloud for
the rigorous treatment he had so long exercised his patience with : all
which he said in so affectionate a manner, as drew floods of tears from
all that were present. He spoke most tenderly to the queen too ; and,
in fine, left nothing unsaid, or undone that so small a time would allow
of, either to reconcile himself to God, or to make satisfaction to those
he had injured upon earth, disposing himself to die with the piety and
unconcernedness becoming a Christian, and resolution becoming a king,
and then his senses beginning to fail him, (which had continued perfect
till about an hour before his death,) he expired betwixt eleven and twelve
o'clock, on Friday morning, being the 6th of February, 1684.

One direction Charles gave to his brother while dying, was characte-
ristic of his natural gallantry and good-nature. "The rest," said he,
" will no doubt take care of themselves, but oh ! do not let poor Nelly
be forgotten j she must not be left to starve." The allusion was of
course to Nell Gwyn, the most amiable, and certainly the least blame-
able of the frail company that formed his court.

James II. the most wrong-headed, and yet the most honestly inten-
tioried of the princes of the unfortunate Stuart dynasty, died the victim
of his own obstinacy, an exile at the Chateau of St, Germains, near Paris.
We have extant a detailed account of his death, which runs thus :
* On the 4th of March, 1701, the king, while in the chapel of the castle,
fainted away, but after some little time, coming to himself, seemed perfectly
well again in a few hours; but that day se'nnight being seized again with a
paralytic, fit in the morning, as he was dressing, it so affected one side, that
he had dimculty'to walk, and lost the use of his right hand for some time,
but after blistering, emetics, &c. he began to recover the use of it again ;
he walked pretty well ; but on Friday, the 2nd of September, he was
seized again with a fainting in the chapel, just as he had been at first,
which returning upon him after he was carried to his chamber, was
most afflicting to the disconsolate queen, in whose arms he fell the
second time; however, he was pretty well next day, but on Sunday
falling into another fit, was for some time without life or motion, 'till
his mouth being forced open, he vomited a great quantity of blood.
This put the queen, and all the people except himself, into the last
degree of trouble and apprehension. In the meantime he sent for the
prince, his son, who at his first entrance, seeing the king with a pale and
dying countenance, the bed covered with blood, burst out, as well as all
about him, into the most violent expression of grief.

As soon as the sacrament arrived, he cried out, " the happy day is
come at last;" and, then recollecting himself, to receive the viaticum,
the curate came to his bed-side and (as customary on those occasions,)
asked him if he believed the real and substantial presence of our Savi-
our's body in the sacrament ? to which he answered, " yes, I believe it,

224 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND,

I believe it with my whole heart j" after which having spent some time
in spiritu.il recollection, he desired to receive the sacrament of Extreme
Unction accompanying those ceremonies with exemplary piety and a
singular presence of mind.

There could not be a better time than this for making a public decla-
ration of his being in perfect charity with all the world, and that he
pardoned his enemies from the bottom of his heart j and, lest his sin-
cerity might be doubted in reference to those who had been so in a
particular manner, he named the Prince of Orange, the Princess Ann, of
Denmark, his daughter; and calling his confessor to take particular
notice, " I forgive with all my heart the Emperor too." But in reality
he had not waited to that moment to perform that Christian duty of for-
giveness of injuries ; his heart had been so far from any resentment on
their account, that he reckoned them his best benefactors, and often de-
clared he was more beholden to the Prince of Orange than to all the
world besides.

The next day his most Christian Majesty, Louis XIV. came to see
him, and alighted at the castle gate, as others did to prevent the noise
of coaches coming in the court ; the king received him with the same
easiness and affability as usual, and indeed was better that night ; and,
though the night following he had an ill fit, yet on Wednesday he voided
no more blood^ and, his fever abating gave great hopes of amendment :
on Sunday his most Christian Majesty made him a second visit, whom,
as wjll as all the other princes and people of distinction (who were per-
petually coming) he received with as much presence of mind and civility
as if he had ailed nothing ; but on Monday, he falling into a drowsiness,
and his fever increasing, all those hopes of recovery vanished, and the
queen was by his bedside when that happened, which put her into a sort
of agony too ; this the king perceiving was concerned for, and notwith-
standing his weak condition, said " Madam, do not afflict yourself, I am
going, I hope, to be happy."

The next day he continued in the same lethargic way, and seemed to
take little notice of any thing except when prayers were read, which he
was always attentive to, and, by the motion of lips, seemed to pray
continually himself. On Tuesday the 13th, about three o'clock, his
most Christian Majesty came a third time, to declare his resolution in
reference to the prince, which in his former visits he had said nothing
of, nor indeed had he determined that matter before. Upon which
Louis went into the king, and coming to the bed-side, said, " Sir, I am
come to see how your Majesty finds yourself to-day ;" but the king,
not hearing, made no reply ; upon which one of his servants telling
him that the King of France was there, he roused himself up, and said,
" Where is he ?" Upon which the King of France said, " Sir I am here,
and come to see how you do j" so then the king began to thank him for
all his favours, and particularly for the care and kindness he had shewn
during his sickness. To which his most Christian Majesty replied, " Sir
that is but a small matter, I have something to acquaint you with, of
greater consequence." Upon which the king's servants, imagining he
would be private, (the room being full of people) began to retire, which
his most Christian Majesty perceiving, said out aloud, " Let nobody
withdraw," and then went on ^ "I am come, Sir, to acquaint you, that
whenever it shall please God to call your Majesty out of this world, I
will take your family into my protection, and will treat your son, the

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 225

Prince of Wales, in the same manner I have treated you, and acknowledge
him, as he then will be, King of England j" upon which all that were
present, as well French as English, burst forth into tears, not being able
any other way to express that mixture of joy and grief with which they
were so surprisingly seized ; some, indeed threw themselves at his most
Christian Majesty's feet: others, by their gestures and countenances,
(much more expressive on such occasions than words and speeches,)
declared their gratitude for so generous an action ; with which his most
Christian Majesty was so much moved, that he could not refrain weeping
himself.

The next day the king found himself better, so the prince was permitted
to come to him, which he was not often suffered to do, it being observed,
that when he saw him, it raised such a commotion in him, as was thought
to do him harm ; as soon therefore, as he came into the room, the king,
stretching forth his arms to embrace him, said, "I have not seen you
since his most Christian Majesty was here, and promised to own you
when I was dead. I have sent my Lord Middleton to Marly, to thank
him for it." Thus did this king talk of his approaching death, not only
with indifference, but satisfaction, when he found his son and family
would not be sufferers by it j and so composed himself to receive it with
greater cheerfulness, if possible, than before ; nor was that happy hour
far from him now, for the next day he grew much weaker, was taken
with continual convulsions, or shaking in the hands, and the day follow-
ing, being Friday the 16th of September, about three in the afternoon,
rendered his soul into the hands of his Redeemer, the day of the week
and hour, wherein our Saviour died, and on which he always practised a
particular devotion to obtain a happy death.

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

LANE, or DE LA LONE. From this
Norman, the Lanes of Staffordshire
claim descent, a family illustrious in his-
tory for the part they took in the pre
servation of King Charles II. After the
battle of Worcester, Col. John Lane,
the head of the House, received the
fugitive Prince at his mansion of Bentley,
whence his Majesty was conveyed in dis-
guise by the Colonel's eldest sister, Jane
Lane to her cousin Mrs. Norton's resi-
dence near Bristol. This loyal lady
married in the sequel Sir Clement Fisher
of Packington, in Warwickshire, and re-
ceived, after the Restoration, an annual
pension of J?1000 for life. From her
brother, the cavalier Colonel Lane, (to
whom was granted, in augmentation of
bis paternal coats, an especial badge of
honour, viz. the arms of England in a
canton, with, for crest, a strawberry roan
horse, bearing between his fore legs, the
Royal Crown,) lineally descends the pre-
sent JOHN NEWTON LANE, Esq. of
King's Bromley Manor, co. Stafford.

LOVETOT. Not long after the Con-
quest, we find William de Lovetot pos-
sessed of Hallam, Attercliffe, Sheffield,
and other places in Yorkshire, and we
subsequently trace his family, for three
generations, as feudal Lords of Hallam -
shire. Little attention has been paid by
our genealogists to the origin of this
potent house, but certain it is that its
benign influence laid the foundation of
the prosperity which that district oi
Yorkshire enjoys to this day. The feudal
chieftain of the time of our early Nor-
man Kings in his baronial hall, presents
not at all times an object which can be
contemplated with satisfaction by those
who regard power but as a trust, to be
administered for the general good. With
authority little restricted by law or
usage, he had the power of oppressing as
well as benefitting the population by
which he was surrounded, and many
doubtless were the hearts which power
so excessive seduced. It is gratifying

when we find those who could overcome
its seductive influence. And such seem
to have been the family of De Lovetot.
But few of their transactions have come
down to us, but none which leave a blot
upon their memory, and some which
show that they had a great and humane
regard for the welfare of those whom
the arrangements of Providence had
made more immediately dependent on
them. One of their first cares was to
plant churches on their domains, and
their religious zeal is still further dis-
played by the foundation and endow-
ment of the splendid monastery of
Worksop. The last of the male line of
the Lovetots, William, Lord of Hallam-
shire, died between the 22nd and 27th
years of the reign of Henry II., leaving
an only daughter, Matilda or Maud, then
of very tender age. This lady was heir to
her father's large possessions,and,through
her mother, was nearly allied to the great
house of Clare. Her wardship fell to
the king, but Henry seems to have left
it to his son and successor, Richard
Cceur de Lion, to select the person to
whom her hand should be given, and
therefore to appoint to what new family
the fair lordship of Sheffield should de-
volve. As might be expected, Richard
chose the son of one of his companions
in arms ; and Maud de Lovetot was be-
stowed on Gerard de Furnival, a young
Norman knight, son of another Gerard
de Furnival, distinguished at the siege
of Acre. Thus the Furnivals became
possessed of the Lordship of Hallam-
shire which eventually passed through
the marriage of their heiress to the Tal-
bots, Earls of Shrewsbury, and from
them to the Howards, Dukes of Norfolk.
MA LET. William, Lord Malet de
Greville was one of the great barons
who accompanied the Conqueror, and
had, in charge, to protect the remains of
the fallen monarch, Harold, and to see
them decently interred after the Battle.
His son, Robert, Lord Malet, possessed

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

227

at the general survey, thirty-two Lord-
ships in Yorkshire, three in Essex, one
in Hampshire, two in Notts, eight in Lin-
colnshire, and two hundred and twenty-
one in Suffolk. The near kinsman of this
Robert, William Malet, Lord of the
Honour of Eye in Suffolk, was one of
the subscribing witnesses to Magna
Charta; and from him lineally derives
the present SIR ALEXANDER MALET,
Bart, of Wilbury House, Wilts.

MALEHERBE. The descendants of
this knight were seated at Fenyton in
the county of Devon, as early as the
reign of Henry II., and continued there
for thirteen generations, when the
heiress married Ferrers, and afterwards
Kirkham. The arms of the Malherbes
were, or a chev. gu. between three nettle
leaves erect ppr. referential to the family
name.

MAUNDEVILK. Upon the first arri-
val in England of the Conqueror, there
was amongst his companions a famous
soldier, called Geffray de Magnavil, so
designated from the town of Magnavil
in the Duchy of Normandy, who obtained
as his share in the spoil of Conquest,
divers fair and wide spreading domains
in the counties of Berks, Suffolk, Mid-
dlesex, Surrey, Oxford, Cambridge,
Herts, Northampton, Warwick and
Essex. The grandson of this richly
gifted noble, another GEOFFREY DE
MANDEVILLE, was advanced by King
Stephen to the Earldom of Essex, but
nevertheless, when the Empress Maud
raised her standard, he deserted his
Royal benefactor, and arrayed himself
under the hostile banner. In requital,
the Empress confirmed to him the
custody of the Tower of London, granted
the hereditary Sheriffalty of London,
Middlesex and Herts, and bestowed
upon him all the lands of Eudo Dapifer
in Normandy, with the office of steward,
as his rightful inheritance, and numerous
other valuable immunities, in a covenant
witnessed by Robert, Earl of Gloucester
and several other powerful nobles,
which covenant contained the singular
clause, " that neither the Earl of Anjou,
the Empress's husband, nor herself, nor
her children, would ever make peace
with the burgesses of London, but with
the consent of him the said Geoffrey,
because they were his mortal enemies/'
Besides this, he had a second charter,
dated at Westminster, recreating him

Earl of Essex. Of these proceedings
King Stephen, having information,
seized upon the Earl in the court,
then at St. Albans, some say after a
bloody affray, in which the Earl of
Arundel, being thrown into the water
with his horse, very narrowly escaped
drowning ; certain it is, that to regain
his liberty, the Earl of Essex was con-
strained, not only to give up the Tower
of London, but his own Castles of
Walden and Blessey. Wherefore, being
transported with wrath, he fell to spoil
and rapine, invading the king's demense
lands and others, plundering the abbeys
of St. Albans and Ramsay : which last
having surprised at an early hour in the
morning, he expelled the monks there-
from, made a fort of the church, and
sold their religious ornaments to reward
his soldiers ; in which depredations he
was assisted by his brother-in-law, Wil-
liam de Say, a stout and warlike man,
and one Daniel, a counterfeit monk. At
last, being publicly excommunicated for
his many outrages, he besieged the
Castle of Burwell, in Kent, and going
unhelmed, in consequence of the heat
of the weather, he was shot in the head
with an arrow, of which wound he soon
afterwards died. This noble outlaw had
married Rohesia, daughter of Alberic de
Vere, Earl of Oxford, Chief Justice of
England, and had issue, Ernulph,
Geoffrey, William and Robert ; and by
a former wife, whose name is not men-
tioned, a daughter Alice, who married
John de Lacy, constable of Chester. Of
bis death, Dugdale thus speaks : — "Also
that for these outrages, having incurred
the penalty of excommunication, he
happened to be mortally wounded, at a
little town, called Burwell ; whereupon,
with great contrition for his sins, and
making what satisfaction he could, there
came at last some of the knights tem-
plars to him, and putting on him the
habit of their order, with a red cross,
carried his dead corpse into their orchard,
at the old Temple, in London, and cof-
fining it in lead hanged it on a crooked
tree. Likewise, that after some time,
by the industry and expenses of William,
whom he had constituted Prior of Wal-
den, his absolution was obtained from
Pope Alexander TIL, so that his body
was received among Christians, and
divers offices celebrated for him; but
that when the prior endeavoured to take

228

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

down the coffin and carry it to Walden,
the templars being aware of the design,
buried it privately in the church-yard of
the NEW TEMPLE, viz. in the porch
before the west door."
. William de Mandeville, last surviving
son of this famous noble, succeeded as
third Earl of Essex, at the decease of his
brother Geoffry, and not long after made:
a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. At hisj
death, which occurred in 1190, the feudal j
lordship and estates he enjoyed devolved
on his aunt, Beatrix, wife of William de
Say1; and from her, passed to the hus-
band of her grand-daughter — the cele-
brated Geoffrey Fitz Piers, Justice of
England, whom Matthew Paris charac-
terizes as e ' ruling the reins of govern
ment so, that after his death, the realm
was like a ship in a tempest without a
pilot." His only daughter and eventual
heiress, Maud, wedded Robert de Bohun,
Earl of Hereford, and had a son, Hum-
phrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and
Essex, with whose male descendants the
latter Earldom continued until the
decease in 13J2, of Humphrey de Bohun,
Earl of Hereford, Northampton and
Essex, whose elder daughter and co.
heir, Alianore, married Thomas of
Wroodstock, Duke of Gloucester, sixth
son of Edward III., and was mother of
Anne Plantagenet, the consort of Wil-
liam Bourchier, Earl of Ewe in Nor-
mandy. Of this alliance, the son and
heir Henry Bourchier, Earl of Ewe, ob-
tained a patent of the Earldom of Essex
in 1461, and was succeeded therein by
his grandson, Henry Bourchier, 2nd
Earl of Essex, at whose demise in 1 539,
the representation of his illustrious
house and of the Mandevilles and Bohuns,
Earls of Essex, devolved on his sister,
Cicely, wife of John Devereux, Lord
Ferrers of Chartley, whose great-grand-
son, Walter Devereux, 2nd Viscount
Hereford, was raised in 1572 to the
Earldom of Essex, a title that expired
with Robert Devereux, 3rd Earl, the
Parliamentary General. It was however
revived in about fifteen years after in the
person of Arthur, Lord Capel, whose wife,
the Lady Elizabeth Percy, was grand-
daughter of Lady Dorothy Devereux,
sister of Robert, Earl of Essex, the
favourite of Queen Elizabeth. Thus the
present Earl of Essex can deduce an
unbroken line of descent through each
sucsessive family that held the honour,
from Geoffrey de Mandeville upon

whom the Earldom of Essex was con-
ferred by King Stephen.

MARMYON. The chiefs of this great
house are stated to have been hereditary
champions to the Dukes of Normandy,
prior to the Conquest of England : cer-
tain it is that Robert de Marmyon, Lord
of Fonteney, obtained from his royal
master, not long after the Battle of
Hastings, a grant of the manors of
Tamworth, co. Warwick and Scrivelsby,
co. Lincoln, the latter to be held " by the
service of performing the office of cham-
pion at the King's Coronation." His de-
scendants and eventual coheiresses were
Joan Cromwell, wife of Alexander, Lord
Frevile, and Margaret de Ludlow, wife
of Sir John Dymoke : between whom
his estates were partitioned, Freville re-
ceiving Tamworth, and Dymoke, Scri-
velsby with the championship of England,
which is still held by his representative
Sir HENRY DYMOKE, Bart, of Scri-
velsby.

MALEUILE. The great Northern
House of Melville claims this Norman as
the patriarch of their race. Galfrid de
Maleville, the earliest of the family who
appears in Scottish history, had the ho-
nour of being the first Justiciary of Scot-
land on record. From him descend the
Earls of Melville.

MARTEINE. This entry on the Battle
Abbey Roll refers to the famous Martin
de Tours, who came over from Normandy
with the Conqueror, and was distin-
guished at the battle of Hastings. Sub-
sequently he acquired by conquest, as
one of the Lords Marchers, a large dis-
trict in Pembrokeshire, called Cemaes or
KEMES, and became Palatine Baron
thereof, exercising within his territory,
subject to feudal homage to the King, ajl
the jura regalia, which, at that period,
appertained to the crown of the English
monarch. He made Newport the head
of his Palatinate, and there erected his
castle, the ruins of which still exist.
From this potent noble, the Palatine
Barony of Kernes has descended to the
present THOMAS DAVIES LLOYD, Esq.,
Bronwydd, co. Cardigan, who derives
from Martin de Tours, through the fami-
lies of Owen of Henllys, and Lloyd of
Penpedwast. He holds the lordship by
the same tenure, and exercises the jura
regalia in the same manner as his great
'ancestor did under the Conqueror. New-
'port, the " caput baronise," has been,
time immemorial, under the local juris-

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

diction of a mayor (appointed annually
by Mr. Lloyd of Bronwydd,) and twelve
burgesses : courts leet and baron are held
at stated periods in the town, where all
the business of the lordship is transacted,
fresh grants of land given by the bur-
gesses, under the sanction of the lord,
and other affairs settled. The lordship
is fifty miles in circumference, and each
farm in it pays what is called a " chief
rent " to Mr. Lloyd, of Bronwydd. He
is obliged to walk the boundaries every
five years, a task which generally occu-
pies a week.

The immediate male descendants of Mar-
tin de Tours were summoned to parliament
in theBaronyMartin,which,at the decease
of William, Lord Martin, in 1326, fell into
abeyance between his heirs, Eleanor Co-
lumbers, Irs sister, and James de Audley,
his nephew, as it still continues with
their representatives.

MARE. The descendants of this Nor-
man knight occupied aprominent position
in Staffordshire, in the time of the early
Plantagenets. William de Mere occurs
as High Sheriff of that county, temp.
Edward II., and in the next reign, Peter
de la Mere filled the speaker's chair in the
House of Commons. At an early period,
the family possessed the manor of Maer,
co. Stafford, and are also found resident
at Norton, in the Moors. The name is
spelt, in ancient deeds, de Mere, de
Mare, but the more recent orthography

MORTIMER. Ralph de Mortimer, sup-
posed to have been son of the famous
Norman general, Roger de Mortimer,
and to have been related to the Con-
ueror, held a principal command at the
mttle of Hastings ; and, shortly after, as
he most puissant of the victor's captains,
was sent into the Marches of Wales to
ncounter Edric, Earl of Shrewsbury,
vho still resisted the Norman yoke. This
lobleman, after much difficulty and a
ong siege in his castle of Wigmore,
VIortimer subdued, and delivered into
he king's hands; when, in requital of
lis good services, he obtained a grant of
all Edric' s estates, and seated himself at
Wigmore. Thus arose, in England, the
llustrious house of Mortimer, destined
o occupy the most prominent place on
he roll of the Plantagenet nobility, and
o transmit to the royal line of York a
right to the diadem of England, which,
after the desolating contests of the Roses,
.riumphed in the person of Edward,
of March, who ascended the throne

is Mayer.
MAULSY.

The first of this name we

can trace is Peter de Mauley, a Poictevin
Baron of Mulegrave and Lord of Don-
caster, in Yorkshire. He appears to have
been an adherent of King John, and to
have acquired his English estates in mar-
riage with Isabel, daughter and heir ol
Robert de Thurnham, whose wife was
Joanna Fossard, heiress of Mulgrave,
descendant, probably, of the Domesday
Nigel. Cam den says, that " by marriage
Peter de Mauley came to a great inhe-
ritance at Mulgrave, and that the estate
was enjoyed by seven Peters, Lords de
Malo-lacu, successively, who bore for
their arms " or, a bend sa." But the
seventh, who had summons to parliamen
from 22 Ric. II. to 3 Hen V., dying
s. p., his possessions were divided be
tween Sir John Bigot, Knt , and George
Salvaine, of Duffield, who had marriec
his sisters. The manor of Mulgrave i:
now the property of the Marquess o
Normanby.

VOL. IV. NO. XVII.

as fourth of his name, Roger, Lord Morti-
mer of Wigmore, so notorious in our his-
tories as the paramour of Queen Isabel,
was grandson of Roger Mortimer, the il-
ustrious adherent of Henry III. in the ba-
ronial war, to whom Prince Edward was
ndebted for his deliverance from captivi-
;y after the battle of Lewes. The exploit
s thus recorded by Dugdale : — " Seeing
his sovereign in this great distress,
and nothing but ruin and misery at-
tending himself, and all other the king's
loyal subjects, he took no "rest till he had
contrived some way for their deliverance ;
and to that end sent a swift horse to the
prince, then prisoner with the king in
the castle of Hereford, with intimation
that he should obtain leave to ride out
for recreation, into a place called Wid-
mersh ; and that upon sight of a person
mounted on a white horse, at the foot of
Tulington Hill, and waving his bonnet
(which was the Lord of Croft, as it was
said), he should haste towards him with
all possible speed. Which being accord-
ingly done (though all the country there-
abouts were thither called to prevent his
escape), setting spurs to that horse he
overwent them all. Moreover, that being
come to the park of Tulington, this
Roger met him with five hundred armed
men ; and seeing many to pursue, chased
them back to the gates of Hereford,
making great slaughter amongst them."
At the ignominious death, on the com-

230

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

mon gallows, of Ro^er Mortimer, Queen
Isabel's favourite, his earldom of March
became forfeited, but was restored to his
grandson, Roger, Lord Mortimer, a war-
rior of distinction and a Knight of the
Garter. His son and successor, Edmund,
Earl of March, espoused the Lady Phi-
lippa Plantagenet, daughter and heir of
Lionel, Duke of Clarence, and dying in

Ireland), left with two daughters, the
elder, Elizabeth, wife of the gallant
Hotspur, three sons.

whom, Roger, fourth Earl of March, was
father of the Lady Anne Mortimer, who

wedded Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Edward III.,) and was summoned as a

Cambridge, and conveyed to the house
of York, the right to the Crown of Eng-

ble manner possible, in one of the cham-
bers at Berkeley Castle. So conscious
was Maltravers of guilt, that he fled im-
mediately after the foul deed into Ger-
many, where he remained for several
years, having had judgment of death
passed upon him in England ; but in the
19th of the same reign, King Edward
being in Flanders, Lord Maltravers came

1381 (being then Lord Lieutenant of and made a voluntary surrender of him-

self to the King, who in consideration
of his services abroad, granted him a

the eldest of safe convoy into England to abide the

decision of parliament ; in which he had
afterwards a full and free pardon, (25

BARON to take his seat therein. That
was not, however, sufficient, King Ed-

land ward constituted the murderer of his

MONTRAUERS. Although none of father, soon after, Governor of the Isles
the family founded by this Norman of Guernsey, Alderney, and Sarke.
knight were barons by tenure or had' After the decease of this Lord Mai-
summons to parliament before the time travers, the BARONY passed to his

of the third Edward, yet were they an-
ciently persons of note. In the reign
of Henry I., within less than half a cen-
tury after the Conquest, Hugh Mal-
travers was a witness to the charter
made by that Monarch to the Monks of
Montacute in the county of Somerset ;
and, in the 5th of Stephen, Maltravers
gave a thousand marks of silver and one
hundred pounds, for the widow of Hugh
Delaval and lands of the said Hugh,
during the term offifteen years and then
to have the benefit of her dowry and
marriage.

The infamous part which John, Lord
Maltravers, took in the cruel murder of
King Edward II., is too well known to
need recitation here — enough is it to state
that the wretched monarch was removed
from the custody of Lord Berkeley, who
had treated him with some degree of
humanity, and placed under Lord Mal-
travers and Sir Thomas Gournay, for the
mere purpose of destruction, and that
those ruffians ultimately fulfilled their
diabolical commission in the most horri-

granddaughter, (the eventual sold heiress
of his predeceased son, Sir John Mal-
travers,) Eleanor, wife of the Hon. John
Fitz- Allan, whose son John was suin-
moned to parliament as Lord Maltravers,
and succeeded as eleventh Earl of Arun-
del, and the Barony of Maltravers has
since merged in that superior dignity,
Lady Mary Fitz-allan, the daughter,
and ultimately sole heiress of Henry,
eighteenth Earl of Arundel, married
Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, and
brought the barony and earldom into
the Howard family. These dignities
descended to her son, Philip, who was
ATTAINTED in the 32nd Elizabeth,
when the barony fell under the attainder,
but it was restored to his son, Thomas
Howard, twentieth Earl of Arundel ; and
by Act of Parliament, 3rd Charles I.,
e BARONY OF MALTRAVERS, to-
gether with those of Fitz-Allan, Clun,
and Oswaldestre, was annexed to the
title, dignity, and honour of ARUNDEL,
and settled upon Thomas Howard, then
Earl of Arundel.

[To be continued. ,]

231

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.

No. XIII. — THE CRIMES AND VICISSITUDES OF WILLIAM PARSONS, THE
SON OP A BARONET.

THE singular story of this miserable man's life of guilt is to be found
included in almost every English collection of criminal trials. For its
authenticity, it is not here intended to vouch further than that this
William Parsons was tried, convicted, and eventually executed, and that
as he was the member and heir of a highly honourable family, it is more
than probable the tale would, were it false, have been long before now
contradicted. The account presents certainly one of the most extraor-
dinary instances of perverseness in crime ever recorded : its very strange-
ness makes it interesting, and affords the best excuse for its insertion
here. A word or two, however, first about the family of Parsons, to
which the subject of this melancholy history belonged.
• The Parsons were of Northamptonshire origin, and became afterwards
seated at Boveny, in the county of Bucks. Sir John Parsons, Knt., of
Boveny, married Elizabeth, daughter and sole heiress of Sir John Kidder-
minster, of Langley in Buckinghamshire, and had a son, William Parsons,
Esq., of Langley, who was created a baronet, the 9th of April, 1661. Sir
William Parsons, the grandson of this first baronet, himself the third
baronet, married for his first wife Frances, daughter of Henry Dutton,
Esq., by whom he had issue, beside a son, John, who died young, and a
daughter, Grace, to whom her maternal aunt, the Duchess of Northum-
berland, left a considerable fortune, another son, WILLIAM, the subject
of this narrative, who married Mary, daughter of John Frampton, Esq.,
of the Exchequer, and had an only surviving son, Mark. Sir William
Parsons married, secondly, Isabella, fifth daughter and coheir of James
Holt, Esq., of Castleton in Lancashire, and relict of Delaval Dutton, Esq.,
but had no other issue. Sir William died about 1760, and was succeeded
by his grandson Sir Mark Parsons, who died unmarried in 1812, when
the baronetcy became extinct.

The history of William Parsons is as follows.

William Parsons, the son of Sir William Parsons, Bart., was born in
London, in the year 1717. He was placed under the care of a pious
and learned divine at Pepper-harrow, in Surrey, where he received the
first rudiments of education. In a little more than three years, he was
removed to Eton College, where it was intended that he should qualify
himself for one of the universities.

While he was a scholar at Eton, he was detected in stealing a volume
of Pope's Homer in the shop of a bookseller named Pote. Being charged
with the fact, he confessed that he had stolen many other books at dif-
ferent times. The case being represented to the master, Parsons under-
went a very severe discipline.

Though he remained at Eton nine years, his progress in learning was
very inconsiderable. The youth was of so unpromising a disposition

23C<J CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

that Sir William determined to send him to sea, as the most probable
means to prevent his destruction, and soon procured him the appointment
of midshipman on board a man-of-war, then lying at Spithead under
sailing orders for Jamaica, there to be stationed for three years.

Some accident detaining the ship beyond the time when it was expected
she would sail, Parsons applied for leave of absence, and went on shore;
but having no intention to return, he immediately directed his course
towards a small town about ten miles from Portsmouth, called Bishop's
Waltham, where he soon ingratiated himself into the favour of the
principal inhabitants.

His figure being pleasing, and his manner of address easy and polite,
he found but little difficulty in recommending himself to the ladies.

He became greatly enamoured of a beautiful and accomplished young
lady, the daughter of a physician of considerable practice, and prevailed
upon her to promise she would yield her hand in marriage.

News of the intended marriage coming to the knowledge of his father,
Sir William, and his uncle, the latter hastened to Waltham to prevent a
union which he apprehended would inevitably produce the ruin of the
contracting parties.

With much difficulty the uncle prevailed upon Parsons to return to
the ship, which in a few days afterwards proceeded on her voyage.

The ship had not been long arrived at the place of destination, when
Parsons resolved to desert, and return to England, and soon found an
opportunity of shipping himself on board the Sheerness man-of-war,
then preparing to sail on her return home.

Immediately after his arrival in England, he set out for Waltham, in
order to visit the object of his desires ; but his uncle being apprised of
his motions, repaired to the same place, and represented his character in
so unfavourable, but at the same time in so just a manner, that it pre-
vented the renewal of bis addresses to the physician's daughter.

He went home with his uncle, who observed his conduct with a most
scrupulous attention, and confined him, as much as possible, within
doors. This generous relation at length exerted his interest to get the
youth appointed midshipman on board his Majesty's ship the Romney,
which was under orders for the Newfoundland station.

Upon his return from Newfoundland, Parsons learnt, with infinite
mortification, that the Duchess of Northumberland, to whom he was re-
lated, had revoked a will made in his favour, and bequeathed to his
sister a very considerable legacy, which he had expected to enjoy. He
was repulsed by his friends and acquaintance, who would not in the least
countenance his visits at their houses 3 and his circumstances now
became exceedingly distressed.

Thus situated, he applied to a gentleman named Bailey, with whom
he had formerly lived on terms of intimacy; and his humanity induced
him to invite Parsons to reside in his house, and to furnish him with the
means of supporting the character of a gentleman. Mr. Bailey also was
indefatigable in his endeavours to effect a reconciliation between young
Parsons and his father, in which he at length succeeded.

Sir William having prevailed upon his son to go abroad again, and
procured him an appointment under the governor of James Fort, on the
river Gambia, he embarked on board a vessel in the service of the Royal
African Company.

Parsons had resided at James Fort about six months, when a disagree-

THE ARISTOCRACY. 233

merit took place between him and Governor Aufleur ; in consequence of
which the former signified a resolution of returning to England. Here-
upon the governor informed him that he was commissioned to engage
him as an indented servant for five years. Parsons warmly expostulated
with the governor, declaring that his behaviour was neither that of a man
of probity or a gentleman, and requested permission to return. But so
far from complying, the governor issued orders to the sentinels to be
particularly careful lest he should effect an escape.

Notwithstanding every precaution, Parsons found means to get on
board a homeward-bound vessel, and being followed by Mr. Aufleur, he
was commanded to return, but cocking a pistol, and presenting: it to the
governor, he declared he would fire upon any man who should presume
to molest him. Hereupon the governor departed, and in a short time
the ship sailed for England.

Soon after his arrival in his native country, he received an invitation
to visit an uncle who lived at Epsom, which he gladly accepted, and
experienced a most cordial and friendly reception.

He resided with his uncle about three months, and was treated with
all imaginable kindness and respect. At length, the discovery of an act
of misconduct on his part so incensed the old gentleman, that he dis-
missed Parsons from his house.

Reduced to the most deplorable state of poverty, he directed his
course towards the metropolis ; and three halfpence being his whole
stock of money, he subsisted four days upon the bread purchased with
that small sum, quenching his thirst at the pumps he casually met with
in the streets. He lay four nights in a hay-loft in Chancery-lane, belong-
ing to the Master of the Rolls, by permission of the coachman, who
pitied his truly deplorable case.

At length he determined to apply for redress to an ancient gentle-
woman, with whom he had been acquainted in his more youthful days,
when she was in the capacity of companion to the Duchess of North-
umberland. Weak and emaciated through want of food, his appearance
was rendered still more miserable by the uncleanliness and disofder of
his apparel ; and when he appeared before the old lady, she tenderly
compassionated his unfortunate situation, and recommended him to a
decent family in Cambridge-street, with whom he resided some time in
a very comfortable manner, the old gentlewoman defraying the charge
of his lodging and board ; and a humane gentleman, to whom she
had communicated his case, supplying him with money for common
expenses.

Sir William came to town at the beginning of the winter, and received
an unexpected visit from his son, who dropped upon his knees, and sup-
plicated forgiveness with the utmost humility and respect. His mother-
in-law was greatly enraged at his appearance, and upbraided her husband
with being foolishly indulgent to so graceless a youth, at the same time
declaring that she would not live in the house where he was permitted
to enter.

Sir William asked him what mode of life he meant to adopt ? and his
answer was, that he was unable to determine ; but would cheerfully
pursue such measures as so indulgent a parent should think proper to
recommend. The old gentleman then advised him to enter as a private
man in the horse-guards, which he approved of, saying, he would imme-
diately offer himself as a volunteer.

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

Upon mentioning his intention to the adjutant, he was informed that
he must pay seventy guineas for his admission into the corps. This news
proved exceedingly afflicting, as he had but little hope that his father
would advance the necessary sum. Upon returning to his father's
lodgings, he learnt that he had set out for the country, and left him a
present of only five shillings.

Driven now nearly to a state of distraction, he formed the desperate
resolution of putting an end to his life, and repaired to St. James's Park,
intending to throw himself into Rosamond's Pond. While he stood on
the brink of the water, waiting for an opportunity of carrying his impious
design into effect, it occurred to him, that a letter he had received, men-
tioning the death of an aunt, and that she had bequeathed a legacy to his
brother, might be made use of to his own advantage j and he immedi-
ately declined the thoughts of destroying himself.

He produced the letter to several persons, assuring them that the
writer had been misinformed respecting the legacy, which in reality was
left to himself; and under the pretext of being entitled to it, he obtained
money and effects from different people to a considerable amount.
Among those who were deceived by this stratagem was a tailor in De-
vereux-court in the Strand, who gave him credit for several genteel suits
of clothes.

The money and other articles thus fraudulently obtained, enabled him
to engage in scenes of gaiety and dissipation ; and he seemed to enter-
tain no idea that his happiness would be but of short duration.

Accidentally meeting the brother of the young lady to whom he had
made professions of love at Waltham, he intended to renew his acquain-
tance with him, and his addresses to his sister ; but the young gentleman
informed Parsons that his sister died suddenly a short time after his
departure from Waltham.

Parsons endeavoured, as much as possible, to cultivate the friendship
of the above young gentleman, and represented his case in so plausible
a manner, as to obtain money from him, at different times, to a consi-
derable amount.

Parsons' creditors now became exceedingly importunate, and he thought
there was no probability of relieving himself from his difficulties, but by
connecting himself in marriage with a woman of fortune.

Being eminently qualified in those accomplishments which are known
to have a great influence over the female world, Parsons soon ingratiated
himself into the esteem of a young lady possessed of a handsome inde-
pendency bequeathed her by her lately deceased father. He informed
his creditors that he had a prospect of an advantageous marriage ; and
as they were satisfied that the lady had a good fortune, they supplied
him with every thing necessary for prosecuting the amour, being per-
suaded that, if the expected union took place, they should have no diffi-
culty in recovering their respective demands.

The marriage was solemnized on the lOth of February, 174O, in the
twenty-third year of his age. On this event, the uncle, who lived at
Epsom, visited him in London, and gave him the strongest assu-
rances that he would exert every possible endeavour to promote his
interest and happiness, on condition that he would avoid such pro-
ceedings as would render him unworthy of friendship and protection.
His relations in general were perfectly satisfied with the connexion
he hail made, and hoped that his irregular and volatile disposition

THE ARISTOCRACY. 235

would be corrected by the prudent conduct of his bride, who was
justly esteemed a young lady of great sweetness of temper, virtue, and
discretion.

A few weeks after his marriage, his uncle interceded in his behalf with
the Right Honourable Arthur Onslow ; and through the interest of that
gentleman he was appointed an ensign in the thirty- fourth regiment of
foot.

He now discharged all his debts, which proved highly satisfactory to
all his relations ; and this conduct was the means of his obtaining further
credit in times of future distress.

He hired a very handsome house in Poland-street, where he resided
two years, in which time he had two children, one of whom died very
young. From Poland-street, he removed to Panton-square, and the ut-
most harmony subsisted between him and his wife, who were much
respected by their relations and acquaintances.

But it must be observed, that though his conduct in other respects had
been irreproachable from the time of his marriage, he was guilty of un-
pardonable indiscretion as to his manner of living j for he kept three
saddle-horses, a chaise and pair, several unnecessary servants, and
engaged in many other superfluous expenses that his income could not
afford.

Unfortunately Parsons became acquainted with an infamous gambler,
who seduced him to frequent gaming-houses, and to engage in play. He
lost considerable sums, which were shared between the pretended friend
of Parsons, and his wicked accomplices.

Parsons was now promoted to a lieutenancy in Colonel Cholmondely's
regiment, which was ordered into Flanders, and was accompanied to that
country by the abandoned gamester, whom he considered as his most
valuable friend. The money he lost in gaming, and the extravagant
manner in which he lived, in a short time involved him in such diffi-
culties that he was under the necessity of selling his commission, in
order to discharge his debts contracted in Flanders. The commission
being sold, Parsons and his treacherous companion returned to England.

His arrival was no sooner known than his creditors were extremely
urgent for the immediate discharge of their respective claims, which in-
duced him to take a private lodging in Gough-square, where he passed
under the denomination of Captain Brown. He pretended to be an un-
married man ; and saw his wife only when appointments were made to
meet at a public-house.

His creditors having discovered the place of his retreat, he deemed it
prudent to remove; and at this juncture an opportunity offered by which
he hoped to retrieve his fortune -, and he therefore embarked as captain
of marines on board the Dursley privateer.

Soon after the arrival of the ship at Deal, Parsons went on shore,
provided with pistols, being determined not to submit to an arrest,
which he supposed would be attempted. lie had no sooner landed on
the beach, than he was approached by five or six men, one of whom
attempted to seize him ; but Parsons, stepping aside, discharged one of
the pistols, and lodged a ball in the man's thigh. He then said, he was
well provided with weapons, and would fire upon them if they presumed
to give him further molestation. Ilertupon the otlicers retreated ; and
Parsons returned to the ship, which sailed from Deal the following
morning.

236

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

They had been in the Channel about a week, when they made prize
of a French privateer, which they carried into the port of Cork. Parsons
being now afflicted with a sickness that prevailed among the French
prisoners, was sent on shore for the recovery of his health. During his
illness, the vessel sailed on another cruize, and he was no sooner in a
condition to permit him to leave his apartment, than he became anxious
to partake of the fashionable amusements.

In order to recruit his finances, which were nearly exhausted, he drew
bills of exchange on three merchants in London, on which he raised 60/,;
and before advice could be transmitted to Cork, that he had no effects in
the hands of the persons on whom he had drawn the bills, he embarked
on board a vessel bound for England.

He landed at Plymouth, where he resided some time under a military
character, to support his claim to which he was provided with a coun-
terfeit commission. He frequented all places of public resort, and par-
ticularly where gaming was permitted. His money being nearly ex-
pended, he obtained a hundred pounds from a merchant of Plymouth,
by.means of a false draft upon an alderman of London. Some time
after the discovery of the fraud, the injured party saw Parsons a trans-
port prisoner on board a ship bound to Virginia, lying in Catwater Bay,
where he assured him of an entire forgiveness, and made him a present
of a guinea.

From Plymouth, Parsons repaired to London, and his money being
nearly spent, he committed the following fraud, in conjunction with a
woman of the town : taking his accomplice to a tavern in the Strand
(where he was known), he represented her as an heiress, who had con-
sented to a private marriage, and requested the landlord to send imme-
diately for a clergyman. The parson being arrived, and about to begin
the ceremony, Parsons pretended to recollect that he had forgotten to
provide a ring, and ordered the waiter to tell some shopkeeper in the
neighbourhood to bring some plain gold rings. Upon this the clergyman
begged to recommend a very worthy man, who kept a jeweller's shop in
the neighbourhood ; and Parsons said it was a matter of indifference
with whom he laid out his money ; adding, that as he wished to compli-
ment his bride with some small present, the tradesman might also bring
some diamond rings.

The rings being brought, and one of each chosen, Parsons produced
a counterfeit draft, saying, the jeweller might either give him change
then, or call for payment after the ceremony j on which the jeweller
retired, saying, he would attend again in the afternoon. Jn a little time,
the woman formed a pretence for leaving the room, and upon her not
returning soon, our hero affected great impatience, and, without taking
his hat, quitted the apartment, saying, he would enquire of the people of
the house whether his bride had not been detained by some unforeseen
accident.

After waiting a considerable time, the clergyman called the landlord j
and as neither Parsons nor the woman could be found, it was rightly
concluded, that their whole intention was to perpetrate a fraud. In the
mean time, our hero and his accomplice met at an appointed place, and
divided their booty.

Soon after the above transaction, Parsons intimated to a military
officer, that, on account of the many embarrassments he was under, he

THE ARISTOCRACY. 237

was determined to join the rebel army, as the only expedient by which
he could avoid being lodged in prison. The gentleman represented the
danger of engaging in such an adventure, and lest his distress should
precipitate him to any rash proceeding, generously supplied him with
forty guineas, to answer present exigencies.

He soon after borrowed the above gentleman's horse, pretending that
he had occasion to go a few miles into the country, on a matter of busi-
ness j but he immediately rode to Smithfield, where he sold the horse at
a very inadequate price.

That he might escape the resentment of the gentleman whom he had
treated in so unworthy a manner, he lodged an information against him,
as being disaffected to the government : in consequence of which he was
deprived of his commission, and suffered an imprisonment of six months.
He exhibited informations of a similar nature against two other gentle-
men, who had been most liberal benefactors to him, in revenge for re-
fusing any longer to supply him with the means of indulging his extra-
vagant and profligate disposition.

In the year 1745, he counterfeited a draft upon one of the collectors
of the excise, in the name of the Duke of Cumberland, for five hundred
pounds. He carried the draft to the collector, who paid him fifty pounds
in part, being all the cash that remained in his hands.

He went to a tailor, saying, he meant to employ him, on the recom-
mendation of a gentleman of the army, whom he had long supplied with
clothes ; adding, that a captain's commission was preparing for him at
the War-office. The tailor furnished him with several suits of clothes j
but not being paid according to agreement, he entertained some suspi-
cion as to the responsibility of his new customer j and therefore enquired
at the War-office respecting Captain Brown, and learnt that a commis-
sion was making out for a gentleman of that name. Unable to get any
part of the money due to him, and determined to be no longer trifled
with, he instituted a suit at common-law, but was nonsuited, having laid
his action in the fictitious name of Brown, and it appearing that Parsons
was the defendant's real name.

Parsons sent a porter from the Ram Inn, in Smithfield, with a coun-
terfeit draft upon Sir Joseph Hankey and Co., for five hundred pounds.
Parsons followed the man, imagining that if he[came out of Sir Joseph's
house alone, he would have received the money j and that if he was ac-
companied by any person, it would be a strong proof of the forgery
being discovered j and as he observed Sir Joseph and the porter get into
a hackney-coach, he resolved not to return to the inn.

He next went to a widow named Bottomley, who lived near St. George's
Church, and saying that he had contracted to supply the regiment to
which he belonged with hats, gave her an order to the amount of a
hundred and sixty pounds. He had no sooner got possession of the hats,
than he sold them to a Jew for one-half of the sum he had agreed to pay
for them.

Being strongly apprehensive that he could not long avoid being
arrested by some of his numerous and highly exasperated creditors, by
means of counterfeit letters, he procured himself to be taken into cus-
tody, as a person disaffected to the king and government ; and was sup-
ported without expense, in the house of one of the king's messengers,
for the space of eighteen months.

238 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

Being released from the messenger's house, he revolved in his mind a
variety of schemes for eluding the importunity of his creditors, and at
length determined to embark for Holland.

He remained in Holland a few months, and when his money was
nearly expended he returned to England. A few days after his arrival in
London, he went to a masquerade, where he engaged in play to the
hazard of every shilling he possessed, and was so fortunate as to obtain
a sufficient sum for his maintenance for several months.

His circumstances being again distressed, he wrote in pressing terms
to his brother-in-law, who was an East India director, intreating that he
would procure him a commission in the Company's service, either by
land or sea. The purport of the answer was, that a gentleman in the
Temple was authorized to give the supplicant a guinea, but that it would
be fruitless for him to expect any further favours.

Having written a counterfeit draft, he went to Ranelagh on a masque •
rade night, where he passed it to a gentleman who had won some small
sums of him. The party who received the draft offered it for payment
in a day or two afterwards, when it was proved to be a counterfeit ; in
consequence of which Parsons was apprehended, and committed to
Wood-street Compter.

As no prosecutor appeared, Parsons was necessarily acquitted j but a
detainer being lodged, charging him with an offence similar to the above,
he was removed toMaidstone Gaol, in order for trial at the Lent Assizes
at Rochester.

Mr. Carey, the keeper of the prison, treated Parsons with great huma-
nity, allowing him to board in his family, and indulging him in every
privilege that he could grant, without a manifest breach of the duties of
his office. But such was the ingratitude of Parsons, that he formed a
plan, which, had it taken effect, would have utterly ruined the man to
whom he was indebted in such great obligations. His intention was,
privately to take the keys from Mr. Carey's apartment ; and not only to
escape himself, but even to give liberty to every prisoner in the gaol :
and this scheme he communicated to a man accused of being a smuggler,
who reported the matter to Mr. Carey, desiring him to listen at an ap-
pointed hour at night, when he would hear a conversation that would
prove his intelligence to be authentic. Mr. Carey attended at the ap-
pointed time, and being convinced of the ingratitude and perfidy of Par-
sons, he abridged him of the indulgences he had before enjoyed, and
caused him to be closely confined.

Being convicted at the assizes at Rochester, he was sentenced to
transportation for seven years j and in tbe following September he was
put on board the Thames, Captain Dobbins, bound for Maryland, in
company with upwards of one hundred and seventy other convicts, fifty
of whom died in the voyage. In November, 1749, Parsons was landed
at Annapolis, in Maryland , and having remained in a state of slavery
about seven weeks, a gentleman of considerable property and influence,
who was not wholly unacquainted with his family, compassionating his
unfortunate situation, obtained his freedom, and received him at his house
in a most kind and hospitable manner.

Parsons had not been in the gentleman's family many days before he
rode off with a horse which was lent him by his benefactor, and pro-
ceeded towards Virginia ; on the borders of which country he stopped a

THE ARISTOCRACY. 239

gentleman on horseback, and robbed him of five pistoles, a moidore, and
ten dollars.

A few days after, he stopped a lady and gentleman in a chaise, attended
by a negro servant, and robbed them of eleven guineas and some silver :
after which he directed his course to the Potomack river, where finding
a ship nearly ready to sail for England, he embarked, and after a passage
of twenty-five days landed at Whitehaven.

He now produced a forged letter, in the name of one of his relations,
to a capital merchant of Whitehaven, signifying that he was entitled to
the family estate, in consequence of his father's decease, and prevailed
upon him to discount a false draft upon a banker in London for seventy-
five pounds.

Upon his arrival in the metropolis, he hired a handsome lodging at the
west end of the town ; but he almost constantly resided in houses of ill
fame, where the money he had so unjustifiably obtained was soon dis-
sipated.

Having hired a horse, he rode to Hounslow-heath, where, between ten
and eleven o'clock at night, he stopped a post-chaise, in which were two
gentlemen, whom he robbed of five guineas, some silver, and a watch.

A short time afterwards he stopped a gentleman near Turnham-green,
about twelve o'clock at night, and robbed him of thirty shillings, and a
gold ring. The latter, the gentleman requested might be returned, as
it was his wife's wedding-ring. Parsons complied with the request,
and voluntarily returned five shillings, saying at the same time, that
nothing but the most pressing necessity could have urged him to the
robbery ; after which the gentleman shook hands with the robber, assur-
ing him that, on account of the civility of his behaviour he would not ap-
pear to prosecute, if he should hear of his being apprehended.

He attempted to rob a coach and four near Kensington, but hearing
some company on the road, he proceeded towards Hounslow, and on his
way thither overtook a farmer, and robbed him of between forty and
fifty shillings. He then took the road to Colnbrook, and robbed a man
servant of two guineas and a half, and a silver watch. After this he rode
to Windsor, and returned to London by a different road.

His next expedition was on the Hounslow-road ; and at the entrance
of the heath he stopped two gentlemen, and robbed them of seven
guineas, some silver and a curiously wrought silver snuff-box.

Returning to his lodgings near Hyde-park-corner one evening, lie
overtook a footman in Piccadilly, and joining company with him, a fami-
liar conversation took place, in the course of which Parsons learnt that
the other was to set out early on the following Sunday with a portman-
teau, containing cash and notes to a considerable value, the property of
his master, who was then at Windsor.

On the Sunday morning he rode towards Windsor, intending to rob
the footman. Soon after he had passed Turnham-green, he overtook
two gentlemen, one of whom was Mr. Fuller, who had prosecuted him
at Rochester, and who perfectly recollecting his person, warned him not
to approach. He however paid no attention to what Mr. Fuller said,
but still continued sometimes behind and sometimes before them, though
at a very inconsiderable distance.

Upon coming into the town of Hounslow, the gentlemen alighted, and
commanded Parsons to surrender, adding, that if he did not instantly

240 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY.

comply, they would alarm the town. He now dismounted, and earnestly
entreated that he might be permitted to speak to^ them in private,
which they consented to ; and the parties being introduced to a room
at an inn, Parsons surrendered his pistols, which were loaded and primed,
and supplicated for mercy in the most pathetic terms.

In all probability he would have been permitted to escape, had not
Mr. Day, landlord of the Rose and Crown at Hounslow, come into the
room, and advised that he might be detained, as he conceived him very
nearly to answer the description of a highwayman by whom the roads
in that part of the country had been long infested. He was secured at
the inn till the next day, and then examined by a magistrate, who com-
mitted him to Newgate.

Parsons was now arraigned for returning from transportation before
the expiration of the term of his sentence: nothing therefore was neces-
sary to convict him but the identifying of his person. This being done,
he received sentence of death. His distressed father and wife used all
their interest to obtain a pardon for him, but in vain : he was an old
offender, and judged by no means a fit object for mercy.

While Parsons remained in Newgate, his behaviour was such that it
could not be determined whether he entertained a proper idea of his
dreadful situation. There is indeed but too much reason to fear that
the hopes of a reprieve (in which he deceived himself even to the last
moments of his life) induced him to neglect the necessary preparation
for eternity.

His taking leave of his wife afforded a scene extremely affecting : he
recommended to her parental protection his only child, and regretted
that his misconduct had put it in the power of a censorious world to
reflect upon both the mother and son.

He joined with fervent zeal in the devotional exercises, at the place of
execution.

241

THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND.

, to.
" We do love these ancient ruins ;

We never tread upon them, but we set
Our foot upon some reverend history."

FEW of " the Castles of England" can be traced to so remote a period as
Coningsburgh. Authentic evidence carries the historical enquirer to
Saxon times, and by the shadowy light of tradition, he may ascend even
to the period of the early Britons. A mound near the castle is still
pointed out as the tomb of Hengist, the Saxon chief, who is recorded by
Jeffery of Monmouth to have been defeated under the walls of the
fortress, by Aurelius Ambrosius, King of Britain, and to have suffered
decapitation. Leaving, however, the dubious ways of tradition, we
find, from the Norman Survey, that at the time of the Conquest, Conings-
burgh was the head of a very extensive fee, and that this fee, consoli-
dated in Saxon times, had belonged, under the peaceful rule of the
Confessor, to Earl Harold, who subsequently ascended the throne, and
eventually fell at Hastings. By the Conqueror, it was granted entire to
WILLIAM DE WARREN, husband of his daughter Gundred, and in their
descendants it remained, with one slight interval, until the reign of
Edward III. We will not here enter on the history of the illustrious
house of Warren j suffice it to say, that it was one of the most powerful
in peace and in war, of the many that overawed the kingly authority of
the early Plantagenets. At the decease, in 1347, of John de Warren,
8th Earl of Surrey, without legitimate issue, Coningsburgh fell to the
Crown, and, within seven-and- thirty days after, was settled on EDMUND
OF LAN OLE Y, a younger son of the King, Edward III. This prince, whom
Hardy ng describes as more addicted " to hunte, and also to hawkeyng,"
than to the duties of " the councell and the parlyament," held, in pecu-
liar esteem, his Yorkshire demesne, affording as it did unrivalled oppor-
tunities for enjoying the sports of the field. He spent there no small
portion of his time, and his name, consequently, appears less frequently
than those of his brothers, in the public affairs of the reigns of Edward
and Richard. By his father he was created Earl of Cambridge, and by
his nephew, the second Richard, advanced to the Dukedom of York. He
married one of the two daughters and coheirs of Peter the Cruel, King
of Castile and Leon, and brought his Spanish bride to Coningsburgh,
where she constantly resided, and where she gave birth to her second
son, Richard, who, according to the fashion of the Plantagenets, was
surnamed " of Coningsburgh," from the place of his nativity. This prince
married the Lady Anne Mortimer, daughter of Roger, Earl of March,
and great granddaughter of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, and thus brought
to the House of York the claim to the Crown, which originated the
Wara of the Roses. This alliance with the discontented family of Mor-

242 COXINGSBURGH.

timer, may have probably estranged the Earl of Cambridge from his
allegiance, and have led him into the conspiracy which cost him his life 5
he was beheaded in 1415, leaving his widow (Maud Clifford, a lady whom
he had espoused after the death of his first wife, Anna Mortimer,) in pos-
session of Coriingsburgh. The Countess of Cambridge, in her long
widowhood, for she lived 'till 1446, resided much in Yorkshire, and had
many transactions with the families around. At her decease, her step-
son, Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, succeeded to the great estates
of his father, and not long after asserted his right to the diadem of
England. The contest that ensued is too well known to need more than
a passing word : at the Battle of Wake field, fought within a short dis-
tance of the Castle of Coningsburgh, Richard, Duke of York, met his
death, leaving his son, Edward, Earl of March, the inheritor of his claim
and his spirit. The next year occurred the great Battle of Towton, in
which the White Rose triumphed, and the Earl ascended the throne as
Edward IV. The Lords of Coningsburgh thus became Kings of England,
and so continued until the castle and demesne lands were granted, by
patent, by Queen Elizabeth to her kinsman, Henry Gary, Lord Hunsdon.
In the interval, however, this princely residence was almost utterly de-
serted, and the gradual decay of the buildings which formed the resi-
dence of the Warrens, and the early princes of the house of York, may
be dated from this era. With the Carys, Coningsburgh remained for
about a century. Their eventual heiress, Lady Mary Gary, only child of
John Gary, Lord Hunsdon and Earl of Dover, married William Heve-
ningham, Esq., of Heveningham, in Sussex, one of King Charles* judges,
and died immensely rich in 1696, when her property descended to her
granddaughter and heiress Gary Newton, who wedded Edward Coke,
Esq., of Holkham, in Norfolk, and had three sons and two daughters.
The eldest of the former was Thomas Coke, created Earl of Leicester in
1744 : and the second, Edward Coke, Esq., of Longford, co. Derby, who
succeeded to Coningsburgh, and died in the prime of life, A.D. 1733. In
pursuance of the directions contained in his will, his Yorkshire estates
were sold in 1737, and became the property of Thomas, fourth Duke of
Leeds, one of whose principal seats, Kiveton, formed an ancient mem-
ber of the Soke of Coningsburgh. Sir Walter Scott, in his exquisite
romance of Ivanhoe, has thrown the halo of his genius over this cele-
brated fortress : " There are," says the poet of the North, " few more
beautiful or striking scenes in England, than are presented by the vici-
nity of this ancient fortress. The soft and gentle river Don sweeps
through an amphitheatre, in which cultivation is richly blended with
woodland, and on a mount, ascending from the river, well defended by
walls and ditches, rises this ancient edifice, which, as its Saxon name
implies, was, previous to the Conquest, a royal residence of the Kings of
England. The outer walls have probably been added by the Normans,
but the inner keep bears token of very great antiquity. It is, situated on
a mount at one angle of the inner court, and forms a complete circle of,
perhaps, twenty-five feet in diameter. The wall is of immense thickness,
and is propped or defended by six huge external buttresses, which project
from the circle and rise up against the sides of the tower, as if to
strengthen or to support it. These massive buttresses are hollowed out
towards the top, and terminate in a sort of turrets, communicating with
the interior of the keep itself. The distant appearance of this huge
building, with these singular accompaniments, is as interesting to the

CONfNGSBURGH. 243

lovers of the picturesque, as the interior of the castle is to the eager
antiquary, whose imagination it carries back to the days of the Hep-
tarchy. A burrow in the vicinity of the castle is pointed out as the tomb
of the memorable Hengist : and various monuments of great antiquity
and curiosity are shown in the neighbouring churchyard."

We will conclude this brief description of Coningsburgh, and its
famous castle, with the following poem, referential to its early history
and tradition : —

ON Coningsburgh's donjon the watches were set,

With the dew-drops of eve its proud banner was wet,

The throstle sang loudly in Elfrida's bower,

The wild harps sang sweetly in Hengist's high tower,

As the golden-hair'd daughters of Saxony hung

On the strain of the bards, who exultingly sung

The deeds of renown that their warriors had done,

The foes they had slaughter'd, the battles they'd won,

Whilst those dark heroes smiled as the goblet they quaff 'd

When the white hand of beauty presented the draught ;

For bright to the chief is the blaze of his fame,

And brighter when mingled with love's holy flame,

And honour'd and bless' d for ever's the brow,

That is twin'd with the laurel and love's lighter bough.

As slowly the bard pour'd his descant of death,

Or exulting he waken'd the trumpet's loud breath,

In fancy the conqueror urged once more

His steed o'er the field, with his fetlocks in gore,

Dash'd the spur in his flank, gave his fury the rein,

And the flying pursued o'er the heaps of the slain !

The minstrel observ'd him, as fiercely he sprung

To the pillar on high where his bright falchion hung ;

When changing his strain to a soul-soothing tone,

He brought the fierce monarch again to his throne,

While softly around him his queen threw her arm,

And her loveliness hung on the chieftain's dark form,

Like a beam of the sun on the skirts of a storm ;

And her voice that could soothe and subdue him at will,

Bade the storm of his bosom subside and be still.

in.

But why to the lip of each hero was held

The wine-cup untasted ? the minstrelsy quell'd ?

And why did each maid grasp her warrior's form,

As her bosom beat high with a sudden alarm.

Full loudly the horn of the warder did blow,

And the watch-dog had scented afar oif the foe,

While Hengist sprung up from his queen and his throne,

To look out through the long narrow loop-hole of stone.

Soft and sweet shone the beams of the sun in the vale,

And the leaves scarcely stirr'd in the low-breathing gale,

But the deer from her covert had started away,

And the dewy-winged lark fled the spot where she lay,

While the black raven hover'd aloft in his flight,

And screain'd for the feast he expected that night,

244 CONINGSBURGH.

For in battle array, on the banks of the Don,
A thousand bright helmets reflected the sun.
" To arms ! " cried the monarch, exultingly springing,
To meet the young page who his corslet was bringing ;
" The foe's in the vale ! 'tis Ambrosius advances,
I know by the banner that waves o'er the lances j
Our swords must be flesh'd ere the set of the sun,
And a battle be fought and a victory won ! "

IV.

With the bright crested helmet each forehead was bound,

Which but now with the garlands of beauty was crown' d,

And the corslet of steel now encircled each breast,

That the soft arm of woman so lately had press'd,

And the trumpet's loud echoes were heard far away,

As they rush'd o'er the drawbridge in battle array ;

And while to the onset they thundered along,

Like a stream from the mountain, as rapid and strong,

The valley resounded through all its green glades

With the neighing of steeds and the clashing of blades ;

But, alas ! ere the morn had arisen that night,

The band that had march'd in the pride of its might,

In breathless confusion, in ruin, and rout,

Were pursued by the foe with a conqueror's shout.

'Twas in vain that they strove their strong castle to win,

For the victor and vanquish'd together rush'd in,

And the standard of Hengist, so proudly unfurl'd,

From the station on high was indignantly hurl'd.

Yet the beams of the morrow as sweetly arose,

As if all in that valley were peace and repose,

As if death and destruction were not in its towers,

As if blood had not rain'd oa the leaves of its bowers,

And as softly and lightly the breath of the breeze,

As though 'twere a paradise, play'd with the trees ;

Yet, alas ! in that valley sleeps many an eye,

That shall ne'er look again on the warm sunny sky,

And many a breast in its blood -stain' d mail,

That shall never the breath of that sweet breeze inhale.

But see ! from that dungeon, so gloomy and deep,

That yawns in the midst of the castle's high keep,

What form so majestic is slowly led forth,

To the gate of the fortress that fronts to the north ?

Whose arm, the last night the proud theme of the song,

Like a felon's, behind him is bound by a thong,

Whose diadem'd head, that ne'er stoop'd in its pride,

To acknowledge an equal in mortal beside,

Now bound and depress'd, is stretched out on the block,

It is done ! — the stern headsman has given the stroke.

Had the sword of the warrior pierced his breast,

The soul of the warrior then had known rest,
With a look of disdain he had welcom'd the blow,
And his eye smil'd in death on a worthier foe :
Whilst now from his body, though headless it lay,
All timidly shrank his assassins away,
For the boldest confess'd it was fearful to see,
A spirit that struggled like his to be free,

CONINGSBURGH. DRUMMOND CASTLE. 245

To mark the wild tumult which swell'd in his breast,

And the rage which the death- stroke had scarcely repress'd.

Long ages have pass'd since that morning arose,
When King Hengist submitted his head to his foes,
Through Coningsburgh's vale flows the bright river still,
And the donjon-tower yet crowns the wood-cover'd hill,
And its dungeon is still yawning darkly below ;

But the ivy alone is its green banner now !

And the wild roses bloom in its chambers of stone.
Where the bright lights of beauty and bravery shone ;
Its wide-circling walls and its high -flanking towers,
Are mould'ring to dust 'neath its summer-green bovvers.
In its grass-cover'd moat may young rustics be seen,
To gather May blossoms to garland their queen,
Who dream not, while round her those garlands they throw,
That a King and a Warrior slumbers below.

Ifrummonfc Cattle, co. $*rtf).

" OF all the devoted adherents to the dynasty of the Stuarts" (we borrow
from an eloquent writer) " none can claim a more distinguished rank
than the house of Drummond. Their fidelity ran in their bluod, and
was part of their nature, from the royal union of their exalted predeces-
sor, to the last ruin of the hopes of her unfortunate descendants. For
adhering to the martyr-king, Charles the First, a fine of £5000 was
levied by Cromwell on the loyal Lord of Stobhall ; and what his suc-
cessors endured in the same cause, generation after generation, for
more than 100 years, is told in a series of chivalrous adventures and
bravely-borne suffering, which do honour to human constancy, and re-
flect undying lustre on the immovable truth and pure attachment of the
men who thus risked all that could he dear, for what they held to be the
right."

The antiquity of the Drummonds is carried so far back that their
origin is lost in the dim scenes of .Scottish story j but, without enter-
ing on .the doubtful path of early tradition, they may well rest satisfied
with an unbroken descent of full 600 years, which in personal distinction
yields to few in the annals of North Britain. The lords of Drummond
occur in all the public archives of their time, and when we inquire what
events and what names have given them celebrity, the answer refers us
to no private records, but to the courts and camps of the English and
Scottish monarchs. Their ancient and splendid residence, Drummond
Castle, associated with their deeds and their greatness, is one of the
finest mansions in Scotland. It stands in the barony of Concraig, which
was acquired from the Drummonds of that place by John, the first lord,
and is placed on a high and, to one side, nearly perpendicular rock, at
the foot of the hill of Torlum, surrounded by a magnificent park, of
striking and diversified scenery extending full two miles in every
direction. The entrance is by the old arched gateway or keep, which
now serves as an armoury, and the approach to the castle, by a court, of
more recent date than the old part of the structure. Here the full
beauty of the situation of the hall of the Drummonds suddenly burst

VOL. IV. NO. XVII. T

246 KENNET.

upon the sight ; the vale of Strathern, with its undulating streams, and
its picturesque landscape, the rich verdure, the stately oaks, and the
placid waters of an artificial lake, with the matchless flower-gardens of
Lady Willoughby, render the spot almost fairy land. An old esplanade,
formed close to the ancient part of the castle, communicates with
two lower terraces, one of venerable yews and the other of beautiful
shrubs.

The original .structure, erected by John, first Lord Drummond, in
1490, must have been of very great extent, for we find, in addition to
the section still inhabited, evident remains of much more considerable
buildings. Two hundred years ago Drummond Castle, held as a royal
fortress by the gallant Drummond of the civil wars, withstood a siege
by Cromwell ; and in a century after, during the memorable '45, the
same chivalrous and loyal devotion defended it as a garrison, for the
cause of Prince Charles. In our own day, too, Drummond Castle has
its royal associations. When Queen Victoria visited for the first time
her fair realm of Scotland, Her Majesty was entertained by the present
noble possessors of this historic seat — the Lord Willoughby de Eresby
and his consort, the representative and heiress of the loyal house of
Drummond.

lUunet, co. Clacfunanan.

IN the county of Clackmanan, within a short distance of the remains of
the ancient castle, so long the feudal residence of the chief line of the
Bruces, stands the present mansion of Kennet, situated amid pleasure-
gardens and plantations of great beauty, on a rising ground overlooking
the basin of the Forth. It is a handsome edifice, built by Robert Bruce,
an eminent lawyer, appointed in 1764 one of the senators of the College
of Justice, under the title of Lord Kennet, and ranks high among the
modern mansions of Scotland. Internally great elegance has been dis-
played, and some valuable family pictures adorn the walls.

The lands of Kennet, together with the Castle and Barony of Clack-
manan, were first granted by King David Bruce, in a charter bearing
date 1359, to Robert Bruce, whom the King therein styles "his beloved
cousin and kinsman." This Robert Bruce was the grandson of Sir John
de Bruce, second brother of Robert de Bruce, Lord of Annandale and
Earl of Carrick, father of King Robert Bruce, the glorious restorer of
Scottish freedom, who derived his descent in the male line from a noble
Norman knight, who fought at the Battle of Hastings in 1066, and was
nearly related to the Conqueror. He died in 1393, leaving several sons,
of whom Sir Robert Bruce, the eldest, was his heir, and James became
Lord Chancellor of Scotland and Archbishop of Glasgow. Sir Robert
Bruce died at Clackmanan in 1455, and was succeeded by his eldest son,
Sir David Bruce, whose descendants continued to reside at the old castle,
still in existence, until 1772, when the line failed in Henry Bruce, Esq.,
and the representation vested in the Earl of Elgin. ROBERT BRUCE, Lord
Kennet, was descended from David, third son of Sir David Bruce, of
Clackmanan, whose son Archibald married his kinswoman, Margaret,
daughter and heiress of Robert Bruce, Esq., of Kennet, representative of
that branch of the family who were descended of a younger, son of the
first Laird of Clackmanan, and had a charter of these lands from his

KBNNETT. DONERAILE PARK. 247

father, 1389. Lord Kennet's grandson. ROBERT BRUCE, Esq., is the
present representative of the Kennet branch of the illustrious house of
Bruce of Annandale, and the inheritor of their broad lands. He for-
merly sat in Parliament for the county, and in early life served as captain
in the Grenadier Guards, with that distinguished regiment in the Penin-
sula and at Waterloo.

Jioruraiie ;Pavfc, to- Cork,
THE SEAT OF VISCOUNT DONERAILE.

There the most daintie paradise on ground,

Itselfe doth offer to the sober eye,

In which all pleasures plenteously abownd,

And none does others happinesse envye,

The painted flowers ; the trees upshooting hye ;

The dales for shade ; the christall running by ;

And that which all fair works doth most aggrace,

The art which all that wrought appeared in no place.

THUS sung Edmund Spenser, looking on this "faire countrie," above
two centuries and a half ago ; and such terms are aptly suited to describe
it now. Strange, that two hundred and fifty-eight years should have
rolled into eternity, producing so many changes in the social condition of
mankind — the institution of states, their forms of government, the habits
and pursuits of the dwellers of the earth, and yet the features of the
earth are unchanged ! The mountains still stand sublime, the river flows
in its accustomed channel, trees put forth their verdure and flowers their
sweet odours, for they obey a law that is of God — fixed, immutable, un-
varied. Seasons change in their turn ; the rain falls, the winds blow,
but the earth is the same. Created by the Divine Architect, he alone
has power to cause an alteration.

There are some exquisite sylvan views in Doneraile Park. The river
Awbrey — Spenser's Mulla — winds its silvery way through the extensive
grounds. The scenery is varied by gently swelling knolls, green and
close shorn ; while wide-spread meadowy niches by the river side give
promise of an abundant hay-harvest. The house is a fine commodious
mansion, owing much to the beauty of the site. It crowns the summit
of a hill sloping to the waters of the Mulla. Adjoining the mansion are
conservatories, stored with the choicest exotics. The stream is spanned
by several rustic bridges, which have a beautiful picturesque effect.
These grounds bear token of having shared the fury of the tempest in
January, 1838, on which occasion, the storm did considerable damage
among the grown timber ; breaking branches, snapping stems, and up-
rooting some of the oldest trees. Several gaps mark the power of the
wind on that eventful night.

While rambling beneath the shade of the fine old trees, we mused on
the great men who here sought relaxation from the turmoil of courts
and camps; and never did the veteran statesman, tired by a long life of
court intrigues, or factious interests, fly for repose and quietude to a

T 2

248 DONERAILE PARK. CAHER HOUSE.

sweeter haven, where, in contemplating the frivolities of the past, he
might prepare for the solemnity of the future.

The family of Lord Doneraile — St. Leger — is of great antiquity in
Ireland; and its members have filled the highest^ offices in the Irish
Government. The first of the family of whom we find mention, Sir
Anthony Sentleger, A.D. 1540, was Lord Deputy of Ireland, Knight of
the Garter, and Privy Councillor. He assembled a Parliament at Dublin,
33rd Henry VIII., which changed the royal style and title from Lord to
King of Ireland, and his manners and address were so winning, that
many of the disaffected Irish chieftains made their submission to the
English rule. In Mr. O'Flanaghan's " Origin and Progress of the English
Law in Ireland," he thus notices this exemplary Governor : " Sent Leger
was a very politic man. He determined to adopt a different course
from his predecessors in office j and, instead of seeking to exterminate
the Irish, or breaking truce with them, to conciliate and protect them,
as fellow subjects. The effect was magical on the Irish chieftains, their
hearts were softened by kindly treatment, the reverse of that they had
formerly experienced ; and, if it had not been for causes which speedily
infused poison into the cup of joy, peace, civilization, and national
prosperity would have marked the wisdom of Sent Leger's govern-
ment."

The son and grandson of this enlightened man, successively filled the
office of Lord President of Minister ; the latter of whom had a magni-
ficent Presidency Court at Doneraile, and built the parish church, as
appears from the following inscription in black marble over the east
door :

" This Church was first built by the Right Hon. Sir William St. Leger,
then Lord President of Munster, Ann. Dom. 1633, and afterwards was
rebuilt by the Right Hon. Arthur, Lord Viscount Doneraile, Ann. Dom.
1726,"

The family of St. Leger were raised to the Peerage in 1 703, and this
branch of the family gave four possessors to the title, but having expired
in 1767, the present race became ennobled by the creation of Baron
Doneraile, of the Peerage of Ireland, 1776; advanced to Viscount in
1785. The present Lord was born in 1786, and succeeded his father
in 181Q. He was elected a representative Peer for Ireland in 1830.

Caf)*r $fou$*, co

THE SEAT OF THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF GLENGALL.

" Towers and battlements it sees,
Bosomed high in tufted trees."

ALTHOUGH the mail-coach passenger, whirling through the town of
Caher, may not consider there is anything peculiarly attractive in the
long range of ordinary building, which, he is informed, is " the Lord's
house," to entitle it to a place in our picturesque Castles and Mansions,
we beg leave to lead him to the front, as the town side is the rear of

CAHRR HOUSE. 24Q

the edifice, and ere long he will correct his mistake. Before him
spreads the Suir,

" The gentle Suir, that majking way
By sweet Clonmell, adorns rich Waterford."

A spacious domain spreads for two miles in front of Caher House, em-
bracing both sides of the river, and affording a variety of exquisite
scenery. The visitor will feel greatly pleased with the taste displayed in
laying out the demesne, and the pretty cottage in the secluded dell, so
generously given for the use of pic-nic parties by the noble owner. The
scenery is bold and romantic. The river is a fine deep stream, gliding
through a rich and fertile land. It conies flowing and gushing from the
Shains of Cashel and Holy Cross, and the castled steep of Ardfinnan. On
its high and beautiful banks have events taken place, that stand promi-
nent in the Annals of Ireland. Its waters, in days of old, floated to the
beach of Waterford the English ships bearing the allies of MacMurrough,
to seize Ireland as the reward of their adventurous valour. At Cashel
was the Synod assembled that adopted the English rule —

" When the emerald gem of the western world,
Was set in the crown of the stranger."

It glides past the ruins of lordly hall and hallowed fane, and the waves
were red with the tide of war where now the busy mills with their cease-
less wheels disturb the placid water. Caher House is a spacious weJl-
built mansion, and contains numerous rooms of elegant proportions.
The ancient Castle of Caher is close to the lawn, and of great antiquity.
It is of singular appearance but considerable extent, and is built on an
island, having the river flowing round. It consists of a square keep,
with an outer and inner ballium, a small court-yard lying between.
There are seven towers flanking the outworks ; of these four are circular
and three square. Some few years ago, the entire castle was put in
complete repair by Lord Glengall, who caused particular attention to be
paid to the style of the building, so that uniformity with the old founda-
tion might be preserved j and never was a restoration more successful,
for the new portion harmonizes exactly with the original structure.

Caher Castle has had its share of blows in the various conflicts that
have agitated this land. In Elizabeth's reign, A.D. 1599, the Earl of
Essex besieged it with his whole army, when the garrison, encouraged
by the hostilities to which the English army were exposed from the
attacks of the Earl of Desmond, and, doubtless, incited by the want of
military skill in the general of the besieging army, held out for a consi-
derable time, but at last was compelled to surrender. Again, in 1617,
the trumpet of war called the inmates to the walls. It was then invested
by Lord Inchiquin, who, unlike his predecessor in attacking-, gave the
garrison nothing to hope for from supineness ; but proceeded to storm
at once, took the outworks by assault, on which the Castle was speedily
surrendered. The dread of a still more formidable enemy than ever ap-
peared before the walls, banished even a show of resistance, when on
the 24th February, 1649, a note thus directed, and in the following-
terms, was received in the Castle.

250 CAHBR HOUSE.

For the Governor of Caher Castle. These.

SIR, Before Caher, 24th February, 1649.

Having brought the Army and my Cannon near this place, — according
to my usual manner in summoning places, I thought fit to offer you
Terms honorable for soldiers. That you may march away with your
baggage, arms, and colours, free from injury or violence. But if I be
necessitated to bend my cannon upon you, you must expect the extre-
mity usual in such cases. To avoid blood this is offered you by

Your servant,

OLIVER CROMWELL.

The terror of Cromwell's name was so great, that the garrison
instantly evacuated the fortress. The Parliamentary leader seemed
proud of his success, for he instantly wrote a dispatch to England
announcing it.

To Hon. John Bradshaw, Esq., President of the Council of State. These.

SIR, Cashel, 5th March, 1649.

It pleaseth God still to enlarge your interest here. The Castle of
Caher, very considerable built upon a rock, and seated on an island
placed in the midst of the Suir, was lately surrendered to me. It cost
the Earl of Essex, as 1 am informed, about 8 weeks' siege with his
army and artillery. It is now yours without the loss of a man.

The family of Butler, Earls of Glengall, are a branch of the great
House of Ormond, tracing descent from the third Earl. They claim
their title of nobility far back j the Butlers having been Barons Caher
since Queen Elizabeth's reign, anno 1583, of the Irish peerage. The
Earldom is recent, 1816. The present is the second Earl ; he succeeded
his father in 1819, and was elected a representative peer in 1830.

251

GENEALOGY OF THE POET DANTE.*

AT this moment when, if ever, Italy seems likely, headed by a wise and
benevolent Pontiff, to vindicate in the scale of nations, a position suit-
able to her antique fame and her central position in the world of civili-
zation and commerce, it is still curious to remark, how true she con-
tinues to the two great sentiments that have swayed her frame to and fro
during the last five centuries of her existence, Ghibellinism and Guelfism.
In our apprehension, it matters little whether a native or a foreign, a
military, a civil, or a spiritual prince controls the political destinies of
Italy, so long as she has secured to her national institutions, in accord-
ance with the progress of human intelligence, and the civilization of the
present day.

Napoleon said, that he asked twenty years to make Italy a nation, a
remark, no doubt, implying that it was to rise from its ashes in a new
birth ; that it was the coming, and not the existing generation j
future, and not past education, to which he would look for the ele-
ments of national regeneration, and the hopes of future prosperity.
That potent spirit that swept over the world, entailing ruin and de-
struction in his progress, but cleansing and purifying the political and
social atmosphere, past away, nor survived to see, except in fancy, the
consequences of his own acts. The seed that he had sown was destined
to germinate in its fitting season, and whether that season has arrived,
the events of the next score of years must determine.

The name of the sovereign Poet of Italy suggested the thoughts to
which we have just given way, for who more than Dante had the cause
of national regeneration at heart ? Who better than he saw the peculiar
evils to which Italy was then a prey ? Who more than he deplored her
fall from her ancient pre-eminence, her sacrifice of great and noble
to paltry and selfish interests ?

" Dante (says a writer in an Italian periodical, cited by Mr. Mazzinghi)
sought to realize in Italy, a unity of civil and military force, and let the
Italian who thinks not with him upon this point, after having had before
his eyes that most fearful experiment of the five subsequent centuries,
cast the first stone at him."

" O wretched, wretched country," writes Dante, in one of his treatises
(Convito, Trattato iv. c. 28) "how irresistibly I am impelled to commis-
serate thy condition, whenever I read or write anything pertaining to
civil government."

We confess that we have for some time regarded the enthusiasm of
Italians of all classes for their philosophical Poet, as one of the most
promising features of the national sentiment. And if as every Italian
has felt, and Guizot (Discourse on Civilization) has expressed, Italy re-
sembles a beautiful flower, which some rude grasp prevents from ex-
panding, and if he have, even in his Quixotic anticipations, somewhat
realized the epigrammatic saying of De Stael f, and mistaken memories

* A brief Notice of some recent Researches respecting Dante Alighieri, by Thomas
John Mazzinghi, M.A.

t " Us ont pris les souvenirs pour les esperances."

25^2 GENKALOGY OF THE POET DANTE.

of the past for prophecies of the future, still enough remains in the
womb of time, awaiting only, it may be, the obstetric aid of prudent
patriotism, to mature into a blooming promise of national prosperity.
With a country blessed with havens of great capacity, an extensive sea-
board, and a position in the very centre of the world's converse, what
but the " rude grasp" of foreign violence has prevented her from
growing into a great and influential European power? What has she
hitherto been but war's playground, a theatre on which the madness of
Austrian, or Gallic ambition, has strutted its little hour upon the stage ?

But the subject with which we have to do is rather family than na-
tional, antiquarian than historical, literary than political. We propose
to consider some curious features of Italian civilization, as connected
with the annals of the family of the greatest Poet of Italy.

Hume, in commenting upon a household book of an Earl of North-
umberland, temp. Henry VII., containing the items of expenditure
which he sanctioned in his house, than which no baron's was on a nobler
or more splendid footing, alludes to the rudeness of manners and gross
want of polish and refinement which the whole scheme indicated. And
he adds, " If we consider the magnificent and elegant manner in which
the Venetian and other Italian noblemen then lived, with the progress
made by the Italians in literature and the fine arts, we shall not wonder
that they considered the ultramontane nations as barbarous." Senti-
ments are, however, an even less fallible indication of progress in civili-
zation than manners. And where in England, or elsewhere in the
world than in Italy, shall we, during the thirteenth or fourteenth cen-
tury (the date of the composition is not critically fixed), find a juster de-
finition of the constituent characteristics of a " gentleman/' * than in
the following description : —

"• The soul that this celestial grace adorns,
In secret hides it not,
But soon as to its earthly mate espoused,
Displays it, until death :
Gentle, obedient, alive to shame,
In early age is seen';
Careful the frame in beauty to improve,

And all accomplishments.

Temperate and bold, in youthful years, and full

Of love and courtesy, and thirst of fame,

Placing in loyalty its sole delight ;

Then in old age wins praise

For prudence, justice, liberality ;

And in itself enjoys

To hear and talk of others' valorous deeds.f

Last in the fourth and closing scene of life,

To God is re-espoused,

Contemplating the end which is at hand,

And thanks returning for departed years ;.

Reflect now how the many are deceived." J

That Dante was " gentle," in this, the highest sense of the word, will

* So should be translated the word " nobile," so often confounded with the English
word " noble," to which quite a different sense is by us attached.

t This, says Mr. Mazzinghi, is a generous but not a faithful translation of the line.

" D' udire e ragionar delP altrui prode."
J Dante's Canzoniere, translation of Mr. Lyell, p. 117>

GENEALOGY OF THE POET DANTE. 253

be doubted by none who are conversant with the incidents of his life, or
the nobility of thought that breathes throughout his writings j that he
was " gentle/' in the popular signification of the term, is apparent from
other sources.

In the history of Florentine families, a singular feature presents itself -3
by a practice peculiar to Italy, nay, we believe to Florence, families,
under certain circumstances, were compelled to change their arms and
their surnames, the origin of which was as follows. After having long
suffered the insolent factions of the great families to convulse the state,
the middle classes, headed indeed by one of the nobles, by a determined
movement obtained the mastery. To organize their newly-acquired
power, they instituted an office, the chief at Florence during the repub-
lican era, that of Gonfalonier of Justice; they formed a species of national
guard from the whole body of the citizens, who were again subdivided
into companies, under the command of other officers of inferior dignity,
also styled Gonfaloniers (Bannerets). As soon, and frequently did this
occur, did any noble commit violence within the walls of the city,
which was likely to compromise the public peace, or disturb the quiet
of the state,Jwhen the great bell at the Palazzo Vecchio raised its alarum,
the population flew to arms, and hastened to the spot, where the Gonfalo-
nier of Justice speedily found himself in a position, not merely to put an
end to the disturbance, but even to lay siege to the stout massive fortresses
which formed the city residences of the insolent and refractious offen-
ders to which they then withdrew. But the reforming party did not stop
there ; by the new constitution, which was then introduced, " the ancient
noble families, termed by contemporary historians ' i grandi,' and ex-
plained to include those only which had ever been illustrated by the order
of Knighthood, were all placed under a severe system of civil restrictions
and their names were entered upon a roll called the Ordinances of Justice j
the immediate effect was that losing all political rights, they were
placed in a most disadvantageous position before the law. Their situa-
tion has been aptly compared to that of the Irish Catholics under the
full severity of the penal code,* and the same necessity may be regarded
with equal reason, perhaps, as palliating the original harshness of each
enactment."

By a somewhat amusing species of democratic liberality, a man or a
family might be emancipated from this position and rendered fit for
office, born again as it were into a new political life, by renouncing their
connections (consorteria) and changing their arms and surnames. They
were then said to be made plebeian or popular (fatti di popolo). Niebhur
has noticed the analogy of such voluntary resignation of nobility to the
" transitio ad plebem" of the Romans.

This practice of changing arms and surnames originated from the Ordi-
nances of Justice promulgated about that time, which expressly requires
this as a condition to the enjoyment by any of the old families of
popular rights. It gave rise to great varieties of surnames and armorial
bearings in different branches of the same house. But it has neverthe-
less been noted that in all these mutations it was still the endeavour of
the parties to retain as much as possible of the ancient ensigns and ap-
pellations, so that traces of descent and connexion might not in the
progress of years be altogether obliterated. Thus the Cavalcanti took

* Bowyer's Statutes of Italy, p. 39.

254 GENEALOGY OF THE POET DANTB.

the name of Cavallereschi, the Tornaquinci that of Tornabuoni. Some-
times they obtained the object by a play upon the name itself thus j
at other times by making a patronymic of the Christian name of the
first or some other favourite ancestor j thus a branch of the Bardi assumed
the name of Gualterotti, and a branch of the Pazzi that of Accorri.
Sometimes they took their new name from a place or circumstance
calculated to preserve the memory of their origin ; thus the Agolanti
designated themselves Fiesolani, the Bostichi from the antiquity of their
stock, Buonantichi. In mutation of arms a similar object was borne in
mind. Thus the Buondelmonti simply added to their ancient bearings
a mountain az. and a cross gu. The Baccelli, who were a branch of
the Mazzinghi, replaced the three perpendicular clubs, the ancient ensigns
of the family, by two placed in the form of a cross.
J As the object of these provisions was to discriminate for the future those
of the ancient families who had acceded to the principles of the popu-
lar institutions from their more haughty kindred, (the Protectionists of
their day) who remained true to the defence of their feudal and aristo-
cratical prejudices, the change either of arms or surname was not
required if the whole family became converts to the new doctrines : for
then there was no need of discrimination, and the law was not framed
out of any dislike merely to particular ensigns but only to the principles
and opinions which they had up to a certain time been understood to re-
present.

Notwithstanding one passage in the Convito, it would appear that the
Poet was powerfully impressed with the feeling for antiquity so common
to his age and country, but purified in his great mind from all those
grosser ideas and vanities that detract from the real worth of the senti-
ment, and give it rather the character of a weak and indefensible preju-
dice. And accordingly we find him in the Paradiso thus apostrophizing
'Nobility/

" Ben ssi tu manto che tosto raccorce,
Si che, se non s'appon di die in die,
Lo tempo va dintorno con le force." — Canto xvi. 6.

" Yet cloak thou art soon shorten'd : for that Time,
Unless thou be eked out from day to day,
Goes round thee with his shears." — CAREY.

The frailty of things human, of family honors amongst them, escapes
not the comment of the Poet.

" Mark Luni ; Urbisaglia mark ;
How they are gone ; and after them how go
Chiusi and Sinigaglia ; and 'twill seem
No longer new or strange to thee, to hear
That families fail, when cities have their end.
All things that appertain to ye, like yourselves,
Are mortal, but mortality in some
Ye mark not ; they endure so long and you
Pass by so suddenly. And as the moon
Doth, by the rolling of her heavenly sphere
Hide and reveal the strand unceasingly ;
So fortune deals with Florence. Hence admire not
At what of them I tell thee, whose renown
Time covers, the first Florentines."— CAREY.

GENEALOGY OF THE POET DANTE. 255

In one of the most celebrated passages in the Inferno, the Poet Dante
describes his encounter with a chief of the Uberti, hereditary enemies of
his own house. Within his fiery tomb that was to remain unclosed until
the last day, in the sixth circle of the Inferno (that of the " Increduli")
was imprisoned the Ghibellin chieftain, the Coriolanus of Florentine His-
tory, Farinata degl' Uberti, to whom the Poet, with strict justice, awards
the praise of highmindedness, designating him as " quel magnanimo."

" Lo ! Farinata there, who hath himself
Uplifted ; from his girdle upwards, all
Exposed, behold him. On his face was mine
Already fix'd ; his breast and forehead there
Erecting, seem'd as in high scorn he held

E'en hell.

He, soon as there I stood at the tomb's foot,

Ey d me, a space ; then in disdainful mood

Addressed me : " Say what ancestors where thine."

I, willing to obey him, straight reveal'd

The whole, nor kept back aught : whence he his brow

Somewhat uplifting, cried : " Fiercely were they

Adverse to me, my party and the blood

From whence I sprang : twice therefore, I abroad

Scatter'd them." " Though driven out, yet they each time

From all parts," answered I, ' * returned ; an act

Which yours have shown they are not skilled to learn."

And here the dialogue is interrupted by an episode which has always
been admired as a striking instance of the consummate art of the Poet j it
involves however many allusions for which we have no space. We there-
fore^pass it by.

" Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whom
I yet was station'd, chang'd not count' nance stern,
Nor mov'd the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.
, " And if," continuing the first discourse,
" They in this art," he cried, ' ( small skill have shown :
That doth torment me more e'en than this bed.
But not yet fifty times shall be relumed
Her aspect, who reigns here, queen of this realm,
Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art."

Inferno x. Carey.

From the conversation between Dante and his ancestor Cacciaguida
in Paradise is derived, although not exclusively, the information that
has been handed down respecting the earlier descents of his family.
It ascends by well authenticated^ documents by historical evidence,
and municipal records, to a remote period in the middle ages. Ac-
cording to some, the Alighieri were originally descended from that
patriotic house of Rome which derived its surname, according to tradi-
tion, from having at a time of great dearth and scarcity made a
bountiful use of its opulence, to relieve the cravings of the necessi-
tous. They broke their bread with the people, and became thenceforth
the " Bread breakers," (Frangipani) in the nomenclature of a grateful
people. Certain however it is that the Florentine family of the Alighieri
were at a very early date divided into the kindred houses of the Alighieri

256 OBNEALOGY OF THE POET DANTE.

and the Elisei j* the latter became soon extinct, but not before it, as
well as the collateral branch, had filled the highest offices in Florence,
which its singular constitution enabled it to bestow. In the civil dis-
sensions which prevailed in their country during the 12th and 13th
century, the two would appear to have embraced opposite sides. The
Lisei (Elisei) alone are mentioned by Malespina (the earliest Florentine
Historians) and these may therefore be regarded as having at that early
period been the more prosperous and powerful branch. They espoused
the Ghibellin — their kinsman, the Alighieri, the Guelf cause. The poet
himself was the first of his own family, who, in attaching himself to the
cause of the Empire, became at the commencement perhaps almost invo-
luntarily confounded with the advocates of doctrines and principles at that
time and long subsequently classed under the general term Ghibellinism.
A writer in a modern review, generally regarded as one of the heads of
the party styled " Italia Giovane," has claimed for Dante the credit of
being neither " Guelf nor Ghibellin, but Italian ;" and certainly if we are to
judge from his great Poem alone, and set out of consideration the
commentary supplied by the incidents in his own political career, we
should hesitate to class him with any but the party strong at that period
in nothing but the merits of their cause — the true patriots who had
the interests of their country at heart and who postponed to it all selfish
considerations,

" The few, the band of brothers."

And accordingly we find the poet dealing out the dishonours and honors
of his Hell, Purgatory and Paradise to Popes and Emperors, Guelfs and
Ghibellins with the most impartial neutrality. The first progenitor
of Dante whose Christian name is known was CacciaguSda, and he tells
us that his son was Dante's great grandfather (bisavo). Cacciaguida thus
greets the Poet in Paradise (c. xv.)

O fronda mia, in che io compiacemmi
Pure aspettando, io fui la tuaradice.

" I am thy root, O leaf, whom to expect
Even, hath pleased me." — Carey.

Cacciaguida was knighted by the Emperor Conrad III., he married
Aldighiera degl' Aldighieri of Ferrara, whence, he tells his descendant,
came the surname of the family (by a slight alteration.)

" E quhidi '1 soprannome tuo si feo." — Parad. xv. 138.

He died in the Crusade 1147, leaving two sons, of whom one,
Aldighiero, mentioned by Dante (Parad. xv.) and^namedwith his brother

in a document A.D. 1 189, was the father of

Bellincione or Cacciaguida, who lived 1200 circiter. and had a son,
Aldighiero, a jurisconsult of the Guelf party, who was twice banished

from Florence in 1248 and 1260. (Parad xv.) He died about 1270,

* The arms of the Elisei were Chequered Lozengy az. and or. The arms of
the Alighieri were Party per pale az. and gules. The arms of the Frangipani, Party
per bend az. and gules. This similarity of bearings was one ground why the two last
families were supposed to have sprung from a common ancestor : slender proof, says
fiorghini, if nothing else confirmed the conclusion 1

GENEALOGY OF THE POET DANTE. 257

leaving by his second wife Bella several children, of whom one was the
Poet Dante born at Florence 8th May, 1265, died at Ravenna in exile,
14th Sept. 1321.

" Ungrateful Florence, Dante sleeps afar." — BYRON.

He married Gemma Donati of a very ancient family, at that period
the most powerful at Florence ; its head, Corso Donati, a noble endowed
with extraordinary qualities and abilities, aspired to a tyranny but came
to a violent end. By his wife Gemma (with respect to whose character dis-
tinguished literati have been divided in opinion), Dante left many
children $ his son Jacopo was the presumed author of a Commentary
upon the Divine Comedy published at Milan 1475. Another son of the
Poet was

Pietro, who having shared his father's banishment, settled after his
death at Verona, and was appointed Giudice by that Commune. He died
atTreves 1361, and was buried with considerable honours in the cloister
of the monastery St. Margerita. He also wrote a Commentary on his
father's poems. By his wife Jacopa he left a son,

Dante II., who died 1428, leaving a son,

Leonardo (whose name has been preserved from oblivion by his inti*
macy with Leonardo Aretino). He had a son,

Pietro, friend of Filelfo and father of

Dante III., who was Podesta (magistrate) of Peschiera 1498, where
he subsequently filled other offices. He retired from Verona to Mantua,
where he is said to have died of despair. Many Latin and Italian com-
positions of his remain unedited. His son,

Francesco, was the author of several antiquarian works, some of
which have been printed and others are lost : His will was dated 1558.

Francesco was the last male descendant of Dante, but he had a bro-
ther Pietro, through whose daughter Ginevra the blood representation
descended to the Counts Sarego of Verona, a family still extant and glory-
ing in their connexion with the greatest Italian Poet.

258

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

A FEW MEMBERS OP THE NEW PARLIAMENT.

RALPH OSBORNE, Esq., the newly elected Knight of the shire for Middle-
sex, is eldest son of Ralph Bernal, Esq., M.P., for Rochester, late
chairman of the Committees of Ways and Means. He was born in
1811, and married in 1844, Catherine Isabella, the only daughter and
richly portioned heiress of the late Sir Thomas Osborne, Bart., of New-
town Anner. On that occasion he came into possession of very con-
siderable estates in the counties of Tipperary and Waterford, estimated
at seven thousand a year, and he adopted, by Royal license, the surname
and arms of his wife's family 3 he had previously held a Captain's Com-
mission in the Army, and was Aid-de-camp to the Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland. In the last parliament he sat as representative for the borough
of Wycombe, and distinguished himself on various questions as a spirited
public speaker.

NORTH DURHAM has returned two new members, LORD SEAHAM and
ROBERT DUNCOMBE SHAFTO, Esq., of Whitworth Park ; the former, the
eldest son of the Marquess of Londonderry, by Frances Anne, his second
wife, only daughter and heiress of the late Sir Harry Vane Tempest,
Bart., will succeed at the death of his father to the Earldom of Vane,
and inherit through his mother the princely possessions of the Vanes and
the Tempests, in the county which his lordship represents. His elder and
half-brother is of course heir apparent to the Marquessate of Londonderry.
LordSeaham has completed his twenty- fifth year, and was recently married
to the only daughter and heiress of Sir John Edwards, Bart., of Garth.
Mr. Duncombe Shafto is eldest son of Robert Eden Duncombe
Shafto, Esq., of Whitworth, and descends from a family of great anti-
quity in the North of England. Some little incidental proof of the
rank which the old lords of Shafto held on the border may be gathered
from song and tradition. At the "Raid of the Redswire" in 1575 —
a hostile meeting between the Scotch and English wardens, one of the
war cries of the latter was " a Schaftan and a Fenwick." The Scots
had the honour of the day, and amongst the many English who were
taken prisoners or wounded,

" Young Henry Shaftan he is hurt,
A souldier shot him with a bow."

Since the accession of the House of Hanover, the chiefs of the family
of Shafto have sat in parliament, representing either the county or city
of Durham.

VISCOUNT BRACKLEY, the successful candidate of North Staffordshire,
is the eldest son of the Earl of Ellesmere, hitherto known as Lord
Francis Egerton, and bears by courtesy the title which was conferred on
his illustrious ancestor, the Lord Chancellor Egerton, just before his de-
cease. The influence of his lordship's uncle, the Duke of Sutherland,
is all paramount in Staffordshire. Lord Brackley was born in 1823, and

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 259

married in 1846, Lady Mary Louisa Campbell, daughter of Earl
Cavvdor.

The city of York has returned JOHN GEORGE SMYTH, Esq., of Heath
Hall, near Wakefield, a landed proprietor of high station and large
fortune in the West Riding. He is son of the late John Henry Smyth,
Esq., of Heath Hall, M.P. for the University of Cambridge, nephew
maternally of the present Duke of Grafton, and grandson of the Right
Hon. John Smyth, Master of the Mint in the reign of George III. The
new member for York was born in 1815, and married in 183o the fifth
daughter of the late Lord Macdonald.

MARMADUKE WYVILL, Esq., of Constable Burton, represents another
Yorkshire constituency, the borough of Richmond, and was formerly
twice member for the city of York. He is a scion of the distin-
guished family of Wyvill, the name of whose patriarch appears on the
Roll of Battle Abbey, and he would be entitled to the dignity of a Baronet
if the vexata questio were decided in the affirmative, that an alien loses
his right of inheritance to an English honour.

W. J. Fox, the Chartist member for Oldham, was born on the 1st
March, 1786, in a farm house near Wrentham, in Suffolk, and at the age
of twelve, earned his livelihood as a weaver boy at Norwich. — At fourteen,
the loom was exchanged for the banker's desk, and in this employment he
passed the next six years, during which time he carried on assiduously
the work of self-education, and mastered a tolerably extensive range of
learning, which enabled him, within a short time, to enter on the
ministry of the Gospel, and to issue forth as a teacher of the people.
Sometime after he separated from the religious body among whom he
had been bred, the Calvinistic Independents, and became the pastor of
an Unitarian Congregation at Chichester, whence he removed to London
in 1817) and has from that time remained in the metropolis connected
with Finsbury Chapel. He has been an occasional contributor to the
Westminster Review, and was the writer of the numerous letters in the
League newspaper, signed " a Norwich weaver boy." The other
leader of the Chartists in the new parliament, Mr. FERGUS O'CONNOR,
is by birth an Irishman of respectable descent, and inherited a small
patrimonial estate in the county of Cork. His uncle, the celebrated
Arthur O'Connor was heir at law to the late Lord Longueville, but his
lordship not approving of the line of politics adopted by Mr. O'Connor,
bequeathed his property to more distant relations — eventually Arthur
O'Connor entered the French service, and attaining high military rank
was well known as General Condorcet O'Connor. Mr. Fergus O'Con-
nor has long been before the public as editor of the Northern Star,
and suffered incarceration a few years since in York gaol for sedition.

MATTHEW WILSON,ESCJ. the new whigMember for Clitheroe, is eldest son
of Matthew Wilson, Esq. of Eshton Hall, county York, and half-brother
ofthe great heiress Miss Richardson Currer of Byerley and Kildwick. He
is a magistrate for the West Riding of Yorkshire, and for Lancashire.
His wife was the only daughter and heiress of Sir Warton Amcotts, Bart,
of Kettlethorpe, twenty years M.P. for East Retford.

The Knight of the shire for the Northern division of Northampton,
so distinguished in the late parliament as Mr. STAFFORD O'BRIEN, has
since his re-election, adopted by sign manual the surname of STAFFORD
only, the cognomen of the ancient family through which he derives his
Northamptonshire estate of Blatherwycke. The Hon. gentleman pos-

260 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

sesses besides extensive property in the county of Clare in Ireland. He
is the eldest son of Stafford O'Brien, Esq., and nephew maternally of the
present Earl of Gainsborough.

DAVID URQUHART, Esq., elected for Stafford, is the distinguished
writer on the foreign policy of England, and possesses mental quali-
fications of the highest order. Having now an arena for his great
oratorical powers, the honourable member will, we feel assured, rank high
among the public speakers of the day. He is the male representative
of one of the most ancient houses in Scotland, the Urquharts of Cro-
marty, and derives through female descent from the noble houses of Ross,
Forbes, Abernethy, Seaforth, and Montrose. Abercrombie in his " Mar-
tial Achievements of Scotland," relates that an ancestor of the Urquharts
married Castalda, daughter of Banquo, " Shakespear's Thane of Locka-
ber," and Lord Hales, in his Annals, mentions that Edward the First,
during the interregnum, prior to the accession of John Baliol to the
crown, made out a list of Sheriffs, half of whom were English, and half
Scotch j and that among the Scotch appears the na^me of William
Urquhart, heritable Sheriff of Cromarty, The member for Stafford has
just completed his forty-second year.

COLONEL CHARLES JOHNKEMEYS TYNTE, returned for Bridgewater, in the
neighbourhood of which is his father's splendid mansion of Halsewell, for-
merly represented the Western division of Somersetshire. He resides him-
self at Cefn Mabley, near Newport in Wales, and acts as a magistrate,
and deputy lieutenant for Monmouthshire. His father, Colonel Kemeys
Tynte, possesses estates in the counties of Somerset, Glamorgan, Mon-
tnouth, Surrey, and Brecon, a considerable portion of which have des-
cended to him from his great grand uncle Sir Charles Kemeys, Bart, of
Cefn Mabley, knight of the shire for Monmouth, in the last parliament
of Queen Anne, and for Glamorgan, in the two succeeding parliaments.
Of this gentleman and his Jacobite predilections, an amusing anecdote is
told under " Fragments of Family History,'' in our second volume,
page 65. Colonel Kemeys Tynte has been declared by a committee
for privileges of the House of Lords, senior co-heir of the whole blood
to the Barony of "Wharton ; and also co-heir to the Barony of Grey de
Wilton.

FRANCIS RICHARD WEST, Esq. the new member for Denbigh, is
nephew of the late Earl of De la Warr, and derives his influence in the
borough he represents, through his mother, one of the daughters and
co-heirs of the late Richard Myddelton, Esq. of Chirk Castle,

THOMAS CHISHOLME ANSTEY, Esq. M.P. for Youghal, an English
Chancery barrister, of considerable ability and great depth of know-
ledge, is son of the Hon. Thomas Anstey, Member of the Legislative
Council of Van Dieman's Land, and descends in the female line from
the great Scottish family of Chisholm. He is about thirty years of age,
and was called to the bar in 1839.

WILLIAM SEYMOUR BLACKSTONE, Esq. of Castle Priory, whose election
was secured at Wallingford, despite the myrmidons of the law, is grand-
son and representative of no less a personage than the great legal lumi-
nary Sir William Blackstone, the learned commentator on the laws and
constitution of England.

Sir EDWARD NORTH BUXTON, Bart., the new member for South Essex,
is eldest son and heir of the late Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, so distin-
guished by his philanthropic exertions in the abolition of slavery, and

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. $61

son-in-law of Samuel Gurney of Upton, the head of the great city
house of Overend, Gurney and Co.

Mr. CHARLES LUSHINGTON the successor to Mr. Leader in West-
minster, is youngest brother of Dr. Stephen Lushington, the eminent
civilian.

THE OLDEST MAN SINCE THE DBLUGE.

A correspondent sends us the following extract from the Register of the
Parish of Lanmaes, near Cowbridge, in Glamorganshire, and adds that
'•'of late years it has attracted the close enquiry of eminent antiquaries."
Old Parr must yield the palm of longevity to this venerable Welchman :
" Ivan Yorath buried on Saterdaye the xvii day of July anno doni
1621, et anno regni regis vicessimo primo, annoque (Stalls circa 180.
He was aSowdiarin the fight of Bosworthe, and lived atLantwet major,
and he lived much by fishing."

A MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT OF THE OLDEN TIME.

RICHARD Lyster, Esq., of Rowtor. Castle (great great granduncle of the
present Henry Lyster, Esq., of Rowton Castle), represented the county of
Salop for the wiusual period of thirty years. The great hospitality and uni-
versal popularity of this gentleman are still very freshly remembered; he
was a firm supporter of the exiled royal house, and constantly opposed
the Whig administrations of his day. It is related of him, that his first
return to parliament was for the borough of Shrewsbury, for which place,
after a strenuous contest, he was elected by a considerable majority. His
opponent, however, disputed the return, and endeavoured to destroy the
majority by disfranchising an extensive suburb, which till that period,
had always enjoyed the elective franchise, and as he was a supporter of
the government, the whole Whig party joined in the attempt, and suc-
ceeded in throwing out the successful candidate. Upon the decision
being announced in the Commons, Mr. Lyster, feeling very keenly the
injustice of the proceeding, put on his hat, and, with his back to the
Speaker, walked down the house, when his manner being remarked, he
was called to order, and pointed out to the chair, Turning abruptly
round, he instantly said, " When you learn justice, I will learn manners."
This drew down upon him the increased wrath of the house, and probably
he would have been compelled to ask pardon on his knees, or to visit the
Tower, had not Sir Robert Walpole, who on all occasions knew how to
throw the grace of good temper over disputes and arguments, exclaimed,
with a smile, " Let him go, we have served him bad enough already."
The indignation which this ill-treatment occasioned mainly contributed
to securing the representation of his native county for the remainder of
his life. In illustration of the manners of his day, we may add, that on
his departure from Rowton to take his seat, his tenants annually escorted
him the first two stages on his journey,while his London tradespeople, duly
apprised of his approach, with the same punctilio, advanced two stages
from town to bring him into London. He died in 1776, aged 75.

VOL. iv. NO. xvii. u

2 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

THE EARLDOM OF PERTH.

ONE of the earliest and most interesting cases to he submitted to the
Committee for Privileges, in the next session of Parliament is the claim
of George Drummond, Due de Melfort, to the Earldom of Perth. The
pedigree and heirship of the Due have already been established, and
there remains now only a question of law as to the operation of an act
of attainder. Should the decision on this point be favourable to the
claimant, and the most eminent authorities incline to the opinion that
it will — a Coronet will be restored to the Scottish Peerage, yielding in
brilliancy to few in the Empire. Traditionally, the Drummonds derive
their descent from an Hungarian in the Suite of Edgar Atheling, but the
importance of the family was based on the Royal alliance of the Lady
Annabella Drummond, daughter of Drummond of Stobhall, with King
Robert III. From that period the Drummonds held a high position in
North Britain, and were raised to the peerage in 1487, by the title of Lord
Drummond, and eventually obtained the Earldom of Perth in 1605.
Their loyalty to the throne shone at all times conspicuous, but the mo-
ment that called forth their whole energies and devotion was the great
contest which preceded the final overthrow of the ancient dynasty of
Scotland. So long as the conflict was waged on the battle field, the
Drummonds fought manfully in the cause they had espoused, and at
length, when the last ruin of the hapless race of Stuart was consummate
at Culloden, they left their native land, to die, banished and broken
hearted, in a foreign clime. They had fearlessly set their all upon the
cast, and they chivalrously submitted to the hazard of the die.

The immediate ancestor of the claimant was John Drummond, Earl
of Melfort, second son of James, third Earl of Perth. He retired to St.
Germains at the Revolution, and was raised by the abdicated James, to
the Dukedom of Melfort, a title confirmed in France by Louis XIV.
This nobleman, attainted by the parliament in 1695, for having been seen
at St. Germains, died at Paris, A.D. 1714, leaving, with other issue, a son
JOHN, great-grandfather of George Drummond, Due de Melfort, who
now claims to be Earl of Perth. He was formerly in the British
service, and held a Captain's commission in the 93rd Highlanders. He
has been twice married, first, to the Baroness Albertine de Rothberg,
widow of General Count Rapp, and secondly (within the last month), to
Mrs. Borrowes, widow of Col. Borrovves, daughter of Thomas B. D. H.
Sewel, Esq., and grand-daughter of William Beresford, Lord Decies,
Archbishop of Tuam.

EPITAPH BY BISHOP LOWTH.

THE following beautiful inscription appears on the south side of the
chancel at Cuddesdon church near Oxford :

MARIA
Robert! Lowth, Episcopi Oxon,

Et Mariee Uxoris ejus filia,
Nata XImo die Junii, A.D. MDCCL,

Obiit Vto die Julii, A.D. MDCCLXVIII.

Cara vale ! ingenio prsestans, pietate, pudore,
Et plusquam natse nomine cara vale,

Cara Maria vale ! at veniet felicius cevum,
Quando iterum tecum, sim modo dignus, ero.

Cara redi ! Iseta turn dicam voce, paternos
Eja age in amplexus, cara Maria redi !

•

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 2G3

TRANSLATION.
Dearer than daughter, parallel'd by few,

In genius, goodness, modesty, adieu !
Adieu, Maria ! 'till that day more blest,

When, if deserving, I with thee shall rest :
Come, then thy Sire will cry, in joyful strain,

O ! come to thy paternal arms again.

EPITAPH ON DR. TEIOMLINSON.

ON the north chancel wall in the Parish Church of Whickham in the
county of Durham is a marble monument to the memory of the Rev.
Dr. Robert Thomlinson, fourth son of Richard Thomlinson Esq. of
Blencogo Hall, Cumberland, with the following inscription :

Under

this monument

lies the body of

Robert Thomlinson, D. D.

Prebendary of St. Pauls Lond.

Rector of this Parish 36 years

and sometime

Lecturer of St. Nicholas

in Newcastle upon Tine.

He died the 24th of March 1747

aged 79 years.

Reader if thou wouldst know
the character of y* deceased

learn it

from the following account
of his pious munificence

and charity.

Dr Thomlinson built and endowed ye charity School for this Parish at his own
expense, save ^100 left by Mrs. Blakiston for that purpose. He also built a chapel
at Allonby in Cumbd., and a school house there, and gave to procure the Queen's
bounty to ye said Chap. ^200, to the Col. of Matrons at Wigton in Cumb.
.€600, to the charity School there <€100, to Queen's College in Oxford £WO, to
Edmund Hall there J?200, and left by his will to ye Societies for propagating ye
Gospel <€500, for promoting Christian Know* ^100, for working Schools in
Ireland ^100 ; he also bequeathed his library, a large and most valuable collection
of Books in all kinds of literature, to the Corporation of Newcastle, for public use,
with a rent charge of ^5 a year for ever as a fund for buying new books.

Arms : party per pale arg. and vert, three greyhounds in course
counter changed, impaling azure, a chief indented three martlets arg.
— Crest : a greyhound party per pale as in the Coat.

The Thomlinson Family of Blencogo in the county of Cumberland
are descended from Edward Thomlinson, fourth son of Anthony Thom-
linson, Esq. of Gateside(now Gateshead) in the county of Durham, living
in 1575, by Katherine his wife, daughter of Sir Ralph Hedworth of Har-
raton in the same county.

u 2

264

NOTES ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN
DYER, THE POET.

No. 2.
BY WILLIAM HYLTON LONGSTAFFE.

" Bard of the Fleece, whose skilful genius made
That work a living landscape, fair and bright ;
Nor hallowed less with musical delight,
Than those soft scenes through which thy childhood strayed,
Those southern tracts of Cambria, ' deep embayed,
With green hills fenced, with ocean's murmur lull'd,'
Though hasty Fame hath many a chaplet culled
For worthless brows, while in the pensive shade
Of cold neglect she leaves thy head ungraced,
Yet pure and powerful minds, hearts meek and still,
A grateful few, shall love thy modest lay,
Long as the shepherd's bleating flock shall stray,
O'er naked Snowdon's wild aerial waste ;
Long as the thrush shall pipe on Grongar Hill ! "

WORDSWORTH'S Sonnet 17. " To the Poet John Dyer."

ROBERT DYER being a" solicitor of great capacity and note," purchased
the estate of Aberglasney of Sir Rice Rudd, Bart., and at that seat the
poet, his second son, John Dyer, was born in the year 1700. The future
rhymer went not through his childhood with the usual ease and safety
of other mortals, having, during that period, three very surprising escapes.
These are noted in one of his little MS. books, in connexion with other
misadventures, under the head of " Journals of Escapes," and are thus
set down : —

" 1704 Fell, when a child, into a tub of scalding wort.

" 1704. Fell on a case-knife, which wanting a handle, was stuck
upright in the ground, and which went deep into my throat, but missed
the windpipe.

" 1709. Fell into a well.— Job*s Well, Carm'thens."

Through these accidents, however, he came off scatheless, and finished
his school studies, it seems from Johnson's life, at Westminster, under
Dr. Friend. And now occurs another "Escape," from which it appears
he always was of a restless, rambling disposition, full of spirit and deeply
sensitive, as in after life.

" 1714. Ran from school and my father, on a box of the ear being
given me. Strolled for three or four days — found at Windsor, &c."

From school he went to be instructed in his father's profession, the
law; but, as one might readily suppose, .would have been the case, the
wearisome monotony of an attorney's office, and long formal deeds, little
suited an imagination so powerful and glowing as that of Dyer. He had,
in fact, already begun to cultivate the gentle art of poesy, for as early
as 1716 (he then being only sixteen years of age), the first version of
Grongar Hill was composed. It is in a different metre from, and alto-
gether inferior to, its sylph-like successor, so well known to all English

• i

JOHN DYER, THE POET. 265

readers, but as the fragment Dyer has thought worthy of being copied
into a book is not without merit, bearing in mind the extreme youth of
the writer, and is, at all events, curious, I shall here give it.

" P't of Gronr. Hill as 'twas wrote at first in y" year 1716.

" And here a silent, quiet walk is made,

Streight onward running in the green wood shade ;

How beautiful upon soft mossy beds,

These living pillars rise with noble heads.

Unto the thoughtful muse this bowry isle

Exceeds all those within the towering pile

Of huge Ephesia swelling to the skies,

Or ancient Babel of stupendous size,

Or great St. Peter, pride of modern Rome ;

Or stately Paul, Augusta's sacred dome ;

Though there a ground of polished marbles seen,

And here but vivid turf of gloomy green ;

The sculptor's art although those pillars wear,

And these in Nature's rustic work appear ;

Although their works glare round with fretted gold,

And here but azure spangles we behold.

And intermingling leaves that softly twine,

And roundly branching, from their pillars join

To form a living roof, and shade the tuneful Nine," &c.

Utterly disliking the law, and his father soon after dying, Dyer, in
consequence of his relish for the beautiful, determined to become a
painter, and settled himself with Mr. Richardson, of Lincoln's-inn-fields,
who seems to have been considered as a painter of some reputation, and
whose works are still well known. Among Dyer's papers, I find some
engraved fac- similes of sketches by the old masters, " E Museo Dm
Jonath. Richardson." He then became an itinerant painter in his native
country, South Wales, as he says himself, in a letter to Mr. Duncombe,
published in " Elegant Extracts."

But a break now occurs in his life, his visit to Rome, the mistress of
arts and the ruling divinity in every young painter's bosom, which visit
seems to have been unaccountably misdated by all his biographers, who
state that he went after the publication of Grongar Hill, in 1727> and
returned in 1740, the year the " Ruins of Rome " was published, making
him come home, revise a long poem, if not write it, study for the church,
become ordained, and obtain a living, all in the space of a year J I shall
presently show that he certainly went to Italy in 1724, and returned be-
fore 1728, at all events ; indeed, as Grongar Hill was published in 1727,
he most likely returned in 1725 or 1726. I have some prayers, &c.,
entered by him for 1726 and 1727, which were most probably done
during his leisure in England.

" 1724. Narrow escape in a storm at Calwater, 1 of Plymouth har-
bours, in my voyage to Italy.

" 1725. Narrow escape at Baia, from some banditti who harboured in
the ruins there.

" 1728. A surprising escape on horseback, on a very narrow wooden
bridge (in N. Wales), about 50 feet above rocks and a great torrent of
water, which frightened the horse, who could not turn for the narrowness
of the bridge, and entangled his feet in the side rails, &c.

" Escape at Higham, when the hole was made in a chamber for a pair
of stairs, &c.

266 NOTES ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS

The above extracts show decisively the true period of this visit to the
Eternal City, and all the sketches, &c., I have relating to Italy, are in
the style and writing of this period of Dyer's life. In 1739, he was in
England, and if a second visit to Rome was undertaken in 1740, his MSS.
show no traces of it. Indeed, as painting had then ceased to be his
ruling passion, and he was devoting his energies to church advancement,
we may well assume that such a visit is a fiction. Viewed, as his biogra-
phies state, as one undertaken to improve his painting, it most certainly
never existed.

In 1724, however, all his ardour concentrated in painting. And we
cannot conceive his feelings better than by perusing the accompanying
extracts from his common-place book, consisting of draft letters and
notes. His home predilections are very feeling : —

" I take the opportunity of a gentleman leaving Rome to write to my
dear mother, and pleasure myself with the telling her that I shall soon
return and haste to make myself happy in her company at Grey House.
The farther I am from you, the more and more sensible am I of the
tender names of mother and son, and the longer I am absent from you,
the more you grow in my mind, and the dearer you are there.

" I have now seen the follies of many distinctions and the greatest
heights of people, and can sit me down with much ease in a very firm
opinion that you are happier at Grey House than if you practised all the
formalities of greatness in courts and palaces. I have gathered, I thank
God, enough of knowledge in painting to live well in the busiest part of
the world, if I should happen to prefer it to retirement.

" Rome is a very beautiful place, and quite different from what we see
in England, it is not to be told how rich and beautiful the churches are,
full of fine paintings, gilding, and gold, and precious stones ; the palaces
too are many and very magnificent, and every here and there appear the
views of the old beaten temples, palaces, and triumphal arches."

" Dear Brother, — I wrote to you immediately as soon as I arrived in
Italy, in which were a few lines to my mother and my brothers Tom
and Ben, don't then in return be negligent, nor think the charge great
that may be best afforded. 'Tis what I greatly want, something like
conversation ; the people here are very reserved and deceitful, they sel-
dom appear together but under disguises and in holy pageantries.
* * * The Pantheon is the noblest building, perhaps, that

ever was — it is a large concave, not lifted up like S. Pauls or S. Peter's
(there the concave loses its effect), it appears just as you fancy the sky
about you, at sea, or in a large plain, in that proportion. I wonder none
have considered it in this light, and that they prefer the modern cupolas
to it. Besides this, a vast opening at top lets in but one great light, that
spreads itself gently like a glory on all around. In short, 'tis not to be
described, nor did I conceive it till I saw it."

" I am not a little warmed, and I have a great deal of poetry in my
head when I scramble among the hills of ruins, or as I pass through the
arches along the Sacred Way. There is a certain charm that follows
the sweep of Time, and I can't help thinking the triumphal arches more
beautiful now than ever they were, there is a certain greenness, with
many other colours, and a certain disjointedness and moulder among the

OF JOHN DYER THE POET. C26T

stones, something so pleasing in their weeds and tufts of myrtle, and
something in the altogether so greatly wild, that mingling with art, and
blotting out the traces of disagreeable squares and angles, adds certain
beauties that could not be before imagined, which is the cause of sur-
prise that no modern building can give."

" I take great pleasure in visiting the statues and bas-reliefs, it is
almost my everj day's work, it is a pleasure that grows upon me prodi-
giously. I don't wonder that N. Poussin was so fond of them, and called
even Rafael an ass to the ancients. There is so much strength and noble
muscle in the Hercules, so much grace, greatness, and gentileness in the
Apollo, so much delicacy and perfect symmetry in the Venus of Medicis,
and every part of the Laocoon so exquisite, that nothing modern can be
looked upon after them. Nor do the B. Relievos give me less pleasure,
whether I examine Trajan's column, the temple of Pallas, the arch of
Titus, and some part of Constantine's, and especially a Grecian Bas-relief
over the great door in the Hall of the Villa Borgese, it is a dance of
nymphs after a wedding, about 6 feet long and 3 broad. By good
chance I have bought an old cast of it, which is very scarce ; yet it
grieves me when I think of leaving Rome, as I can't afford to carry with
me many such fine memoranda of those excellent things.

" I can't get any views of Tivoli, or any places in Italy. I have been
to enquire at all the shops. Those of Sylvester we have in England,
and I believe poor plates, too-, but I design to draw some myself, which
shall be at your service. I am now about the ruins which are in Rome
and have drawn a great many, yet, notwithstanding these studious enter-
tainments, I can't always support myself, and I frequently sink into
melancholy for want of society, and I think, Dear Sir, of your absence
with much uneasiness of mind, so that I have many evenings made
resolutions to return to England, which the next morning has diverted
on the Capital or the Aventine."

" I am now in the hurry of a jubilee — in the midst of a most unna-
tural uproar, with the cries of many strange penances around me. And
I'll assure you a Lord Mayor's show is infinitely preferable to that of
opening the holy door. It was very silly, for after a great length of
most wretched pageantry, the Pope reached the door and beat it down
with 3 strokes of a hammer, 3 good prayers, and the most successful
force of 3 or 4 lusty fellows, who pulled and hauled within with ropes
and crows of iron, so fell down the little wall on a carriage of low wheels,
and they wheeled it away to be broken into 10,000 pieces, to be dispersed
for pence and halfpence to all the corners of Europe.

"Tis strange what a havoc their religion makes on their minds, every-
thing they do is capricious and absurd, all things take a tincture of
their religion. So reason and the plain principles of nature are neglected
among them. Their chief employment is visiting churches, and doing
strange penances: they are now busy in visiting the 4 churches, which
they are ordered to do 30 times, and every round is near W miles, and
many of the poor wretches are even starved in the unprofitable labour.
It is really a dismal sight to see the streets so crowded with troops of
families, like so many gipsies, some on foot and some on asses, covered
with dust and sweat, all faint and ghastly.

268 NOTES ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN DYER.

" I observe that though musick is here in such great perfection, so
constantly and universally encouraged, few of the common people have
any ear, or sing with any spirit.'' ,

These extracts may show the spirit of the man at that time, and truly
he had not been idle. The sketches of ruins in my possession are most
voluminous, and are executed in a very peculiar though free style ; a few
are in red chalk, but by far the majority in pen and ink, slightly tinted
with Indian ink or umber. This method, though laborious and engrav-
ing-like, of course has a nice sharpness about the details unattainable by
the pencil. The views of Tivoli above-mentioned are among them, and
altogether they form an interesting collection to' the lover of classical
spots. I am afraid his collections of casts, &c., are all dispersed, the
only relics in my possession are two books of the 16th century (one
having very curious engravings of the remains of ancient Rome at that
time, and each possessing his autograph), together with some original
studies of Domenichino, " A. Z." Polidoro, Tadeus Sucano, Carlo Ma-
ratte, and Fran0 Albani, all mounted. Dyer's portrait was taken in Italy,
but I reserve mention of it till afterwards.

Meantime his muse had not slept during his sketching furor. The
" Ruins of Rome" was most probably now first planned, and a moral
vision, " Wrote at Ocriculum, in Italy, 1725, altered 1730," in blank
verse, was written. This is too long for insertion here j the following
is in the spirit of the last extract given above.

" Wrote at St. Peter's, 8fC.

" O gracious Lord, forgive us ; we are all,
All of us, sinners vile : but these, who build
Greatness upon their brethren's miseries :
Who scorn to make thy meek and patient life
The pattern of their doings ; yet put on
A day-dress of religion ; hypocrites !
Who faiths absurd exact with fiery zeal ;
And strive to thrall the tongue to their decrees,
Not win the spirit to the bond of love.
God of our Fathers, keep us from the ways
Of these foul hirelings : less Thy glory pure
Seek they to magnify, than that of men :
For basest ends the simple they perplex,

And the guise of learning the hope

That rises in their hearts from virtuous deeds."

A poem to Clio was also written from Rome, but she, fictitious or
real, must stand over for consideration till our next number.

(To be continued.)

THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

IT is not a little singular that Englishmen, who are so generalV reproached
by other nations for their want of sociality, should yet have originated
Clubs, the very object of which is the promotion of good fellowship.
Such, however, seems to be the case, the two earliest we have on record
being one which celebrated its symposia at the Mermaid Tavern in Friday
Street, and Ben Jonson's Club, which was held at the old Devil Tavern,
between Temple Gates and Temple Bar. The club at the Mermaid was
according to all accounts the first established, and owed its origin to Sir
Walter Raleigh, who had here instituted a meeting of men of wit and
genius, previously to his engagement with the unfortunate Cobham. This
society comprised all that the age held most distinguished for learning
and talent ; numbering amongst its members Shakspeare, Ben Jonson,
Beaumont and Fletcher, Selden, Sir Walter Raleigh, Donne, Cotton.
Carew, Martin, and many others, who were inferior to none in reputation
except those master spirits, and well worthy to sit at the same table, al-
though at a lower seat. There it was that the " wit- combats " took place
between Shakspeare and Ben Jonson, that have so often excited the re-
gretful curiosity of antiquarians, and to which, probably, Beaumont alludes
with so much affection, in his letter to the old poet, written from the
country : —

" What things have we seen

Done at the Mermaid ! heard words that have been

So nimble and so full of subtle flame,

As if that every one from whom they came

Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest."

It is greatly to be regretted, that not a fragment of these meetings has
come down to us ; a few scattered allusions amongst the old dramatists,
or their panegyrists, alone attest that such things did exist ; but the wit, and
the lively fancies, the gay bubbles, as it were, of the most fervid imagina-
tions, brightened by wine and social emulation, all these have passed
away with the moment that gave rise to them. What would we now give
to recall even the slightest portion of those days, and thus enjoy even a
single hour in the society of such men as Shakspeare and his brother
dramatists, their conversation varied and tempered by the world- knowledge
of Raleigh, and the profound learning of Selden ! One man, and one
only could, by the magic of his pen, have called up the images of such a
time ; but the Great Unknown — the name must never leave him — sleeps
the last sleep in Dryburgh Abbey, and who is there that can hope to suc-
ceed him ? Nay, we almost regret the having thrown out such a hint,
lest some of our popular writers — Heaven save the mark ! — should catch
at the idea, and having dressed up a set of fantoccini puppets, should
endeavour to impose them upon the world as the legitimate representatives
of the Mermaid Tavern.

Ben Jonson's Club was held in a room of the old Devil Tavern, which,
probably from this circumstance acquired the distinguishing name of the
" Apollo." A print of this room, published in 1774, appears to have been
seen by Gifford, who describes it as "a handsome room, large and lofty,

VOL. IV. NO. XVII. X

270 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

and furnished with a gallery for music." Over the door of it was placed
a bust of the poet, underneath which were inscribed, in golden letters upon
a black ground, his own verses of welcome to the comer : — ^

" Welcome all who lead or follow,

To the Oracle of Apollo ;

Here he speaks out of his pottle,

Or the tripos, his tower bottle ;

All his answers are divine,

Truth itself doth flow in wine,

Hang up all the poor hop-drinkers,

Cries old Sim, the prince of skinkers,

He the half of life abuses,

That sits watering with the Muses.

Those dull girls no good can mean us,

Wine it is the milk of Venus,

And the poet's horse accounted ;

Ply it, and you all are mounted.

'Tis the true Phebeian liquor

Cheers the brain, makes wit the quicker,

Pays all debts, cures all diseases,

And at once three senses pleases.

Welcome all who lead or follow,

To the Oracle of Apollo."

O RARE BEN JONSON !

The " Old Sim," mentioned in the above lines, was Simon Wadloe,
who at that time kept the Devil Tavern. So at least Whalley informs us,
and his account is quoted by Gifford without any expression of doubt as
to the assertion.

Within the room were hung up the laws of the Club, the celebrated
Leges Convivales, drawn up by Ben Johnson in the purest and most
elegant Latin. These we now give, with the old translation of them
which, however, is neither very faithful, nor very remarkable for poetry.

LEGES CONVIVALES.

Quod felix faustumque convivis in Apolline sit.

1. Nemo Asymbolus, Nisi Umbra, Hue Venito.

2. Idiota, Insulsus, Tristis, Turpis, Abesto.

3. Eruditi, Urbani, Hilares, Honesti, Adsciscuntor.

4. Nee Lectae Foeminse Repudiantor.

5. In Apparatu Quod Convivis Corsuget Nares Nil Esto.

6. Epulae Delectu Potius Quam Sumptu Parantor.

7. Obsonator Et Coquus Convivarum Guise Periti Sunto.

8. De Discubitu Non Contenditor.

9. Ministri A Dapibus, Oculati Et Muti,
A Poculis, Auriti Et Celeres Sunto.

10. Vina Puris Fontibus Ministrentor, Aut Vapulet Hospes.

11. Moderatis Poculis Provocare Sodales Fas Esto.

12. At Fabulis Magis Quam Vino Velitatio Fiat.

13. Convivae Nee Muti Nee Loquaces Sunto.

14. De Seriis Ac Sacris Poti Et Saturi Ne Disserunto,

15. Fidicen, Nisi Accersitus, Non Venito.

16. Admisso Risu, Tripudiis, Choreis, Cantu, Salibus,
Omni Gratiarum Festivitate Sacra Celebrantor,

17. Joci Sine Felle Sunto.

18. Insipida Poemata Nulla Recitantor.

19. Versus Scribere Nullus Cogito.

20. Argumentationis Totius Strepitus Abesto.

THE CLUBS OP LONDON. 271

21. Araatoriis Querelis Ac Suspiriis Liber Angulus Esto.

22. Lapitharum More Scyphis Pugnare, Vitrea Collidere,
Fenestras Excutere, Supellectilem Dilacerare, Nefas Esto.

23. Qui Foras Vel Dicta, Vel Facta Eliminat, Eliminator

24. Neniinem Reum Pocula Faciunto.

Focus PERENNIS ESTO.

RULES FOR THE TAVERN ACADEMY,

LAWS FOR THE BEAUX ESPRITS.

From the Latin of Ben Jonson, engraven in Marble over the Chimney, in the

Apollo of the Old Devil Tavern, at Temple Bar, that being his Club-room

Non verbum reddere verbo.

1 . As the fund of our pleasure let each pay his shot,

Except some chance friend whom a member brings in.

2. Far hence be the sad, the lewd fop, and the sot ;

For such have the plagues of good company been.
ii.

3. Let the learned and witty, the jovial and gay.

The generous and honest, compose our free state,

4. And the more to exalt our delight while we stay,

Let none be debarr'd from his choice female mate,
in.

5. Let no scent offensive the chamber infest.

6. Let fancy, not cost, prepare all our dishes.

7. Let the caterer mind the taste of each guest,

And the cook, in his dressing, comply with their wishes.

IV.

8. Let's have no disturbance about taking places,

To shew your nice breeding, or out of vain pride.

9. Let the drawers be ready with wine and fresh glasses,

Let the waiters have eyes, though their tongues must be tied.
v.

10. Let our wines without mixture or stum be all fine,

Or call up the master and break his dull noddle,

1 1 . Let no sober bigot here think it a sin,

To push on the chirping and moderate bottle.

VI.

12. Let the contests be rather of books than of wine.

13. Let the company be neither noisy nor mute.

14. Let none of things serious, much less of divine,

When belly and head's full, profanely dispute.

VII.

15. Let no saucy fiddler presume to intrude.

Unless he is sent for to vary our bliss.

16. With mirth, wit, and dancing, and singing conclude.

To regale every sense with delight in excess.

VIII.

17. Let raillery be without malice or heat,

1 8. Dull poems to read let none privilege take.

19. Let no poetaster command or intreat

Another extempore verses to make.

IX.

20. Let argument bear no unmusical sound,

Nor jars interpose sacred friendship to grieve.

21. For generous lovers let a corner be found,

Where they in soft sighs may their passions relieve.

x 2

272 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

22. Like the old Lapithites with the goblets to fight,

Our own 'mongst offences unpardoned will rank,
Or breaking of windows, or glasses for spite,
And spoiling the goods for a rake-helly prank,
xi.

23. Whoever shall publish what's said, or what's done,

Be he banish'd for ever our assembly divine.

24. Let the freedom we take be perverted by none,

To make any guilty by drinking good wine."

From these " Leges Convi vales," we may infer, with sufficient accuracy,
the nature of clubs in their origin j they were associations for the purposes
of good fellowship, no doubt, but it was the fellowship of men of learning
and genius, who met for the interchange of ideas over the social glass. The
dull man and the ignoramus were to be excluded ; the learned and the
cheerful were to be invited to join the club ; drunkenness was forbidden,
yet the members were encouraged to challenge each other to the glass in
moderation ; the society] of females was permitted, while mirth, singing,
and pleasant conversation were enjoined ; a snug corner was set apart for
lovers to sigh in, and think upon their absent mistresses, no bad proof by
the bye of the gentle temper of him, whom modern ignorance has de-
signated as rough and surly ; the discussion of sacred and serious things
were also put under ban, the serious things including, it may be presumed,
politics ; there was to be no quarrelling with each other, no breaking of glasses
or windows by way of frolic, nor was any one to plague the company by re-
citing bad verses, or compelling others to extemporise ; finally, he who
blabbed what was said or done was to be expelled. In many of these
matters, as we shall see hereafter, the clubs of our own day have changed,
and certainly not for the better.

We have no means of tracing out the time when these celebrated societies
actually became defunct, nor have we any notice of similar meetings
the time of Charles II. The probability is, that the great Revolution, which
closed theatres, put down fairs, and in fact forbade everything in the shape of
amusement as a sin against Heaven, dispersed also the clubs, the very
essence of which was elegant enjoyment, and therefore in direct opposition
to the gloomy spirit that had come over the age. But then in due time fol-
lowed the Restoration, and the tide, which had ebbed so low, leaving as it
were, a dry and barren shore, now flowed back again with a violence that
swept every thing before it, not excepting decency and morals. The
hatred of the recent changes, and the rage for bringing back the ancient
order of things, admitted of no exception, even where the thing to be de-
stroyed was positively good. The cavaliers, on finding themselves once
again in their old quarters, were much in the condition of a man who should
return after a lapse of years to the family mansion, from which he had been
ejected, and who would naturally enough fancy every change that had been
made in his absence an innovation, to be got rid of as speedily as possible.
Hence it was to be expected that, among other revivals, so joyous an in-
stitution as that of Clubs would not be forgotten ; arid, accordingly, the
traces of them, which were utterly lost to us in the time of the Common-
wealth, now appear once again. The first, of which any mention is made,
is the so-called Club of the Kiqgs, and the name gives unmistakeable evi-
dence of the times which orginated it. This association was formed a little
after the return of Charles, and did not restrict admission to any quality or

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 273

profession. All who had the good fortune to have inherited the name of
King were entitled to this privilege, it being considered that such a desig-
nation was alone sufficient to prove the loyalty of the candidate.

Another cluh, that arose about the same time, was called the Club of Ugly
Faces. It was instituted originally at Cambridge, and held its first dinner in
Clare Hall, which at the outset it was feared would not be large enough to
contain so numerous a body as would be fairly entitled to claim admission.
The result, however, disappointed these very reasonable calculations. Few
of those invited would allow that they had any right or title to a seat in the
ugly assembly ; and a very amusing account is given in the Spectator of the
excuses put in and pleaded by the various recusants. How the powers of
the club proceeded with them is not said, the want of a president having
brought the whole affair at a still- stand. A chaplain had indeed been pro-
vided in the person of a merry fellow of King's College, commonly called
Crab from his sour look, but no one was found who would admit himself
duly qualified for the presidentship by superior ugliness. The affair, it is
said, came to the ears of the merry monarch, then at Newcastle, and the
whole chimed in so well with his humour, that he sent them a royal mes-
sage, stating that " he could not be there himself, but he would send them
a brace of bucks."

Even this was a deviation, and a very material one, from the original de-
signs of clubs, as they appeared in the time of Shakspeare and Ben Jonson.
Men's minds had been forcibly turned to politics by late events, and if this
disposition to " trade arid traffic with affairs of state" had seemed to sleep
awhile in the commencement of Charles's reign, when every thing else was
forgotten in the momentary sense of joy, it was soon to wake again with
more activity than ever. Goaded by the arts of the profligate Earl of
Shaftesbury, the people were well nigh mad with terror ; the spectre of a
popish church was incessantly present to their imaginations, and three parts
of London went to bed, fully expecting, with the Irishman, to wake the next
morning and find their throats cut. But it was necessary to the ends of
the party that this ferment should be kept up in all its vigour ; if once the
nation was allowed time to cool and recover from its alarm, their power, and
perhaps even their safety, would be brought into serious compromise, and
hence arose the institution The King's Plead Club, the first club in which
politics were substituted for wit, learning, and companionship. There is a
curious and not uninteresting account of this society in Roger North's
" Examen" and, as it would, perhaps, rather lose than gain by being trans-
lated into any other language, we shall give the passage in his own old-
fashioned style : —

" We had a more visible administration, mediate as it were, between his Lord-
ship and the greater or lesser vulgar, who were to be the immediate tools. And
this was the club, called originally the King's Head Club. The gentlemen of
that worthy society held their evening sessions continually at the King's Head
Tavern, over against the Inner Temple gate. But upon occasion of the signal of a
green ribbon, agreed to be worn in their hats in the days of street engagements,
like the coats of arms of valliant knights of old, whereby all the warriors of the
society might be distinguished, and not mistake friends for enemies, they were
called" also the Green Ribbon Club. Their seat was in a sort of carfour (carre-
four') at Chancery Lane end, a centre of business and company most proper for
such anglers of fools. The house was double balconied in the front, as may yet
be seen, for the clubsters to issue forth in fresco with hats and no peruques, pipes
in their mouths, merry faces, and dilated throats, for vocal encouragement of the
ranaglia below, at bonfires, on usual and unusual occasions. They admitted all

274

THK CLUBS OF LONDON.

strangers that were confidingly introduced, for it was a main end of their institu-
tion to make proselytes, especially of the raw, estated youth, newly come to
town. This copious society were to the faction in and about London a
sort of executive power, and by correspondence all over England. The resolves
of the more retired councils and ministry of the faction were brought in here,
and orally insinuated to the company, whether it were lies, defamations,
commendations, projects, &c., and so, like water diffused, spread all over the
town, whereby that which was digested at the club over night, was like nourish-
ment at every assembly, male and female, the next day. And thus the younglings
tasted of political administration, and took themselves for notable counsellors.

tf The conversation and ordinary discourse of the club was chiefly upon the
subject of braveur in defending the cause of liberty and property ; and what
every true Protestant and Englishman ought to venture and do, rather than be
overrun with popery and slavery. There was much recommendation of silk
armour, and the prudence of being provided with it against the time that Protes-
tants were to be massacred. And accordingly there was abundance of those
silken back, breast, and potts, made and sold, that were pretended to be pistol-
proof, in which any man dressed up, was as safe as in a house, for it was impossi-
ble any one would go to strike him for laughing, so ridiculous was the figure,
as they say, of hogs in armour, — an image of derision insensible, but to the view
as I have had it. This was an armour of defence ; but our sparks were not alto-
gether so tame to carry their provision no farther, for truly they intended to be
assailants upon fair occasion ! and had for that end recommended also to them a
certain pocket-weapon, which for its design and efficacy had the honour to be
called a Protestant flail. It was for street and crowd work, and the engine, lying
perdu in a coat pocket, might readily sally out to execution, and so by clearing a
great hall, or piazza, or so, carry an election by a choice way of poling, called
knocking down. The handle represented a farrier's blood- stick, and the fall
was joined to the end by a strong nervous ligature, that in its swing fell just short
of the hand, and was made of lignum vitse, or rather, as the poet termed it,
mortis"

This satirical description is in all likelihood somewhat overcharged, but
it presents a striking picture of the club in question, and of the times in
which it existed. Cruikshanks, unrivalled as he is in his own art, never
placed the follies of his day in a more ludicrous light, even with the advan-
tage of presenting to the eye what is here only suggested to the imagina-
tion—

" Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem
Quam qua? sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus."

Yet dull indeed must be the fancy that on reading this lively narrative does
not picture to itself the meeting' of the Club in all its reality. The gro-
tesque fear of the weak and timid, showing itself in Protestant flails and
silk head- pieces, the bravado of the natural boaster, the busy gossip, and
eager hunting after alarm of others, and the sardonic faces of Shaftesbury
and his intimates, who had set the whole machine in motion, and who were
laughing in their sleeves at their more simple associates — all is present to
the mind's eye in this description. The extract, too, is curious in another
respect ; it shows the ground whereon Sir Walter Scott had beeu poaching,
in his Peveril of the Peak, and the matchless dexterity with which he assi-
milated to his own text the collectanea of his multifarious reading.

[To be continued.]

275

LITERATURE.

THE HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES OF CLEVELAND, by John Walker
Ord, F.G.S.L., Author of "England," " The Bard," "Rural Sketches,"
&c. London. Simpkin and Marshall.

THE "County Histories" form a branch of literature peculiar to our own
country. Continental writers have, indeed, published surveys of king-
donas and provinces, and described particular cities and places, but their
efforts, chiefly directed to historical or biographical disquisitions, have
never been employed in the production of works similar to those, of
which almost all our English counties can boast. Among the ancients,
we look, in vain, for anything of the kind: yet, how inestimably valuable
would now be a descriptive account of a Roman province, bringing to
light the domestic incidents of the time, recalling the ancient customs,
and affording occasional glimpses of the manners of the mighty rulers
of the universe !

A county history, to deserve a place by the side of Dugdale's War-
wickshire, Surtees' Durham, Ormerod's Cheshire, Baker's Northampton-
shire, or Hunter's Doncaster, requires in its compilation the combina-
tion of great mental capacity, with untiring energy, indefatigable research,
and continuous application. It should detail, with the most rigid accu-
racy, the general and local history of the shire ; describe every manor and
estate, with the proprietors in succession ; include genealogical memoirs
(supported by references of undoubted authority) of the various families
of note, with biographical sketches of the eminent men the district has
nurtured or produced ; and, in a word, form a perfect record of the county,
its history, its genealogy, its topography, and its antiquities.

One of the ablest and most distinguished of exiting antiquaries, the
Rev. Joseph Hunter, to whose history of South Yorkshire we have
already alluded, read at the recent meeting of the Archaeological Insti-
tute, an " Essay on Topography/' which gave so eloquent and masterly a
view of the subject that we cannot refrain from extracting the following
passage, exactly in accordance with our feelings : —

" The philosopher may smile at the minuteness of the objects which are made
of importance in the books of the topographer. But it is in fact in the minute-
ness of their details that their value consists. It is because the topographer has
preserved his millions of facts and observations that his writings are valued. And
if, looking upon his little selected region with the eye of the geographer and yet
through a glass microscopically, on finding objects naturally magnified, since there
is nothing greater near at hand with which to compare them, he speaks of some
little heath or common which still exhibits the pristine condition of that portion
of the island, — or draws attention to some little Tempe beautiful as delivered by
the hand of Nature and made beautiful by the hand of Taste — or if he find a few
books or paintings which some curious person has collected and deposited there,
and dwell upon them as if they were a Vatican library or a Florentine gallery, —
if he find a church with some little architectural pretensions, and describe it wi--,h
affectionate minuteness, as another would one of the great cathedrals of the em-
pire— or a piece of middle* age sculpture of which he feels the beauty, and seeks

276* LITERATURE.

to make others sensible of it — I cannot think him uselessly employed, or that
that can be a true philosophy which shall deride taste and enthusiasm such as
this. And if, in the spirit of minute research in which he acts, he set before us
every remain, however inconsiderable, that opens to us any insight into the man-
ners or characters of the early inhabitants of this island, or of the persons who
induced a new population on the ruins of another — be it only a little fragment of
masonry, or a little remain of an half-obliterated trackway, or a mound of earth
raised by unknown hands and for some unknown purpose, — or if he find buried in
the earth all that remains among us of some primeval inhabitant, — there is at least
something which strikes pleasingly on the imagination : and if, as churches are
the topographer's especial delight, he preserves from future accident the records
inscribed on stone, or brass, or marble, he is perpetuating evidence of which an
amount scarcely conceivable has been suffered to perish. — I say nothing here of
that noble branch of topographical study, the remains of the Romans while they
held their sovereignty in Britain; — which are gathered up by him with more
especial care."

The first labourer in the field of topographical research, was the inde-
fatigable Leland, and he commenced his arduous tusk at a most critical
period, when our antiquities were on the point of being involved in the
ruins of the monasteries. His •'Itinerary" may, with truth, be deemed
the foundation st-me of English Topography. He was succeeded by
one, who "restored antiquity to Britain, and Britain to antiquity" — the
great and learned Camden, and after him came Dugdale, Dodswortb,
Erdeswick, Burton, and Flott. The earliest of our county histories is
Sir William Dugdale's Warwickshire, a perfect pattern for all similar
works : with it, ma) well range the splendid histories of Cheshire, Dur-
ham, South Yorkshire, and Northampton, which have appeared within
the last thirty years ; and at no great distance, Manning and Bray's
Surrey, Hutchin's Dorsetshire, Clutterbuck's Herts, Shaw's Staffordshire,
Morant's Essex, and Lipscombe's Bucks. Singular enough, some of
our most important counties, such as Yorkshire, Devon and Shropshire,
have no complete histories, but it is to be hoped that this reflection on
the liberality of the resident gentry may soon cease to exist. Who will
venture to assert that these topographical records of our land do not
lend a useful light to enquirers in almost every branch of our national
literature, or tbat in the list of those who have cultivated this depart-
ment of study, names may not be fonnd, which deserve a high and
honourable place among our most distinguished authors.

The Vale of Cleveland, which Mr. Ord has chosen for his subject,
has been already explored, and its history written, by the Rev. John
Graves j but that gentleman's publication, though meritorious, did not do
sufficient justice to a locality, which, as Mr. Ord truly remarks, abounds
" in monuments of antiquity, in abbeys, priories, hermitages, and cells ;
in castles, fortifications and encampments; in remains of former grandeur,
and relics of great and illustrious families." The uork before us, one
of far more pretension and far higher merit, is written in a spirited, at-
tractive style, displays considerable research and, were it not for the
want of care displayed in the deduction of the pedigrees, might claim
no inferior position in topographical literature. The general and eccle-
siastical history is extremely interesting, and the chapter on the an-
tiquities of the district evinces learning and discrimination. That which
follows refers to the introduction of Christianity into England, and
should be altogether omitted, or dictated by a different spirit. It is re-

LITERATURE. 277

inarkable for nothing but its extreme bigotry, and its unjustifiable and
ntolerant attack on the religious opinions of the Church of Rome.

The fifth chapter gives a description of Gisborough Priory, " a famous
monument of ancient piety," and the remainder of the volume contains
the local history of the thirty parishes which Cleveland comprises. The
portion that pleases us most is that devoted to Skelton — an obscure and
insignificant village '* which will for ever stand renowned, not only in
the history of Cleveland, but in that of the empire and of the world, as
the birth-place of a lofty and illustrious line of nobles, and the ancient
cradle and the nursery of warriors, princes, and kings."

" From this little nook of Cleveland," says Mr. Ord, " sprang mighty Monarchs,
Queens, High Chancellors, Arch-Bishops, Earls, Barons, Ambassadors and Knights,
and above all one brilliant and immortal name, ROBERT BRUCE, the Scottish
Patriot, who, when liberty lay vanquished and prostrate in the dust, and the genius
of national freedom had fled from her native hills, proudly stood forth its
atest and noblest champion, and in defiance of England's proudest chivalry,
achieved for Scotland glorious independence, and for himself imperishable fame."

Mr. Ord then proceeds with the memoir of the Bruces Lords of
Skelton, until their final extinction at the death of Peter de Bruce,
A.D. 1271. Their old baronial fortress of Skelton Castle passed with the
eldest co-heir to the family of Fauconberg, and is now possessed by
that of VVharton, of which the pedigree is given ; the great grandfather
of the present proprietor was the well known and eccentric John Hull
Stevenson, of whom Mr. Ord adds the following sketch. —

" Mr. Hall Stevenson, the author of many poetic pieces, was the son of Colonel
George Hall, by a daughter of Lord W. Manners. The father of this gentleman
purchased Skelton of Lawsoii Trotter, Esq , and married Catherine Trotter, eldest
daughter of John Trotter, Esq., of Skelton Castle. Our author was born in 1718,
married Ann, daughter of Ambrose Stevenson, Esq., of Manor House, in the pa-
rish of Lanchester, county Durham, and died in 1T85. He was educated at Jesus
College, Cambridge, where he became first acquainted with the celebrated Lawrence
Sterne, (the Tristram of his poems), who frequently afterwards visited Skelton
Castle. The festive meetings of these joyous companions, Sterne, Zachary Moore,
Panty Lascelles, and ' the rest' — brought back the good old times to * Crazy
Castle.' When a man keeps an hospitable table, there are people enough who can
smell out his roast meat : he need not send into the highways and hedges for peo-
ple to eat it. A Iat8 proprietor of this beautiful castle (the grandest building
I ever saw) was of this generous class. He kept a full spread board, and wore
down the steps of his cellar. His open heart filled his dining-room with choice
company ; one of which was, the celebrated divine ' Lawrence Sterne, of facetious
memory.' Being wits, scholars, and men of the- polite world, these ' Nodes
ArnbrosiancB' partook of Attic grace and Roman vivacity, sentiment and humour,
pathos and ridicule ; whilst the drollery of Aristophanes, the Bacchic glow of
Anacreon, the festive hilarity of Horace, united to throw over the evening years
of a declining literature, something of the glorious light and gorgeous hues o"f the
palmy zenith of Greece and Rome.

" Hall Stevenson was himself an author of no mean attainments. His works
appeared in three vols. 17^5, printed for J. Debrett, the enterprising bibliopole
of Piccadilly. They comprise, ' Fables for grown Gentlemen,' * Lyric Epistles,'
' Pastoral Cordial,' ' Pastoral Puke/ * Macaroni Fables,' ' Lyric Consolations,'
' Moral Tales,' 'Crazy Tales,' &c. These poems possess considerable harmony
of versification, much facility of expression, a high degree of imagination and ex-
uberance of fancy ; disfigured in some parts by coarse licentious buffoonery, a
quaint exaggerated style, and a prodigal indulgence in ludicrous and fantastic de-
lineation. The criticism in this author, which is appended to his works, may on
the whole, be accepted as a fair and just criterion.

278 LITERATURE.

" He was an excellent classic scholar, and perfectly acquainted with the Belles
Lettres of Europe. He could engage in the grave discussions of criticism and
literature with superior power ; while he was qualified to enliven general society
with the smile of Horace, the laughter of Cervantes, or he could sit in Fontaine's
easy chair and unbosom his humour to his chosen friend. When he resided in
London he lived as other men of the world do, whose philosophy partakes more
of Epicurus than the porch ; and in the country, when Skelton Castle was with-
out company, he had recourse to a very fine library and a playful muse.

" That he was a man of singular genius and a peculiar cast of thought, must be
acknowledged by all who read his work ; that, while he caught the ridicule of life,
he felt for its misfortunes, will be equally evident to those who read the page
which contains the epitaph on Zachary Moore :* and nothing surely can be want-
ing to confirm the latter opinion when we have added that he was the Eugenius
of Lawrence Sterne. Many odd stories are still related of his whims and eccentri-
cities. Being subject to hypochondria, he had a peculiar dislike to the east wind ;
whenever the wind blew from that quarter, he would not leave his bed. He had
the weathercock so placed, that he could see it from his chamber window ; and
when it pointed east, he retreated under cover and would not rise that day. To
cure the complaint and obtain his friend's society, the jocund Tristram procured a
youth to climb the cupola and tie the vane to the west, where it continued during
Sterne's visit. The squire, observing that the surly winds had settled at a favorite
point, quitted his bed and joined the social circle ; when wit, wine and mirth,
flew round the table, and the gay party resumed 'the feast of reason and flow of
soul.' "

Before closing our notice of the history of Cleveland, we must enter
our protest against the genealogical department of the work. Nothing
can be more imperfect or more unsatisfactory — there are forty-three
pedigrees, including those of Chalioner, Mauleverer, Carey, Consett,
Allan, Bruce, Crathorne, Foulis, Ingram, Wharton, Turner, Meynell,
Lowther, and Pennyman ; but with the exception of Allan of Blackwell
Grange, Bruce of Skelton Castle, and two or three others, there is scarcely
one which is not either defective or inaccurate ; in that of Wharton of
Grinkle Park, the present Mr. Lloyd Wharton of Dryburn, whom we
know to be under sixty years of age, is set forth as the father of two
ladies — Mrs. Ettrick and Mrs. Leighton, who were born more than a
century since ! The descent of the Carys, Lords Falkland, at page 476,
's totally unintelligible ; Lucius Charles, meant for the grandfather
of the present peer, appears in the genealogy quite disconnected with
any previous generation, and besides this hiatus, we have also to com-
plain of the omission in this pedigree as in many others, of wives' names,
an omission which the slightest trouble and research would have supplied.
The lineage of Lowther — which the author states to have been " carefully
compiled from various original sources, and to have been revised and

* " Zachary Moore was an intimate friend of Hall Stevenson, and resided at Lofthouse.
He was a person of- convivial disposition, and by expensive habits and high connexions,
squandered away a large fortune. There is a tradition at Lofthouse, that during his tra-
vels on the continent his horses' shoes were made of silver, and that so careless was he of
money, that he would not turn his horses' head if they got loose or fell off, but replaced
them with new ones. He was at length reduced to poverty, and the gay butterflies who
had sported about him in his summer hour with the men of royal and ducal rank who had
feasted at his board, rewarded their old friend with a paltry lieutenancy in Gibraltar.
Sheridan on his death bed surrounded by bum -bailiffs ; Beau Brummell an idiot and a pau-
per at Calais; Zachary Moore, starving at Gibraltar, are black spots on the character of
the then Prince Regent,

Which all the multitudinous seas incarnadine

Cannot wash out !' "

LITERATURE. 279

corrected by the living representative of the family," — bears on the llice
of it its own condemnation, in the utter absence of a single Christian
name in the first ten generations j besides, it is impossible to believe
that any evidence can exist of a Lowther living in 940, married to a
D'Eyn court : — a pedigree of this description would never gain admission
into the pages of Baker, Ormerod, or Hunter.

Mr. Ord possesses many of the essential attributes of a county his-
torian, that we deem it our duty to point out these defects in the hope
that in his next performance he may attend more minutely to genealogi-
cal details, eschew altogether polemical discussion, and thus produce a
work for which we feel assured his abilities qualify him, that may take
its place next to those learned tomes we have already referred to, illus-
trative of the several counties of Warwick, Chester, Durham and York.

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL MEMORIALS OF LONDON. By J. HENEAGE
JRSSE. 2 vols., 8vo. London. R. Bentley.

THE plan of these volumes may be very briefly explained. It com-
bines a history of the different London streets, and of the chief houses
in theni, with some account of their principal tenants, the houses being
selected, not so much for their architectural pretensions, as to afford
the writer an opportunity of describing the important individuals, who
happened at one time to inhabit them. This has given the author
an opportunity of bringing together a mass of light and pleasant ma-
terials, collected indeed from common and obvious sources. Thus
amongst the older writers we find Pepys, Evelyn, and Walpole fre-
quently laid under contribution, while even the most popular of modern
works, such as Lockhart's Life of Sir Walter Scott, are made available
to these Memorials of London. The work therefore is far from bearing
that character of originality, which in some degree may be said to
belong to compilations from less familiar sources, and especially where
new conclusions are drawn from old data, or where widely scattered
facts are brought together and by the force of the writer's genius made
to form one consistent whole, as we see in a well written history. But
this, though it may in some measure detract from the praise due to the
compiler, will by no means affect the amusement to be derived from our
"Memorials" by the reader. There is besides one great advantage in this
book j it has neither beginning, nor end, nor middle ; you may lay
it down when you will, and take it up when you will, being assured
that you disturb no regular flow of interest by breaking off, and that
resume it in what mood you may it will make no difference. We would
by no means be understood as saying this nasoadunco; it is really and
truly a merit, and though not of a very exalted kind in the estimate of
scholars, it is a strong letter of recommendation to the novel-reading
public, who are by no means inclined to honour any excessive draughts
upon their understanding.

We start from Piccadilly, for whkh the author has found a new
etymology, having demolished the old one in a very ingenious and
unanswerable fashion, though his own derivation is somewhat question-
able. As the passage, though long, is rather curious, it may be worth
extracting :

" According to the authority of almost every person who has written on the

280 LITERA1URK.

subject of the streets of London,— and I am sorry to disturb an opinion so Ion-*
received, — Piccadilly derives its name from Peccadilla Hall, a repository for the
sale of the fashionable ruffs for the neck, entitled piccadillies or turnovers, which
were introduced in the reign of James the First. Barnabe Rice, in his ' Houestie
of the Age,' speaks of the ' body-makers that do swarm through all parts, both
of London and about London.' ' The body,' he says, is still pampered up in
the very dropsy of excess. He that some forty years since should have asked
after Piccadilly, I wonder who would have understood him ; or could have toUl
what a Piccadilly had been, either fish or flesh.' In Ben Jonson's * Devil is an
Ass ;' in Beaumont and Fletcher's ' Pilgrim ;' and in Drayton's satirical poem
'The Mooii Calf,' will be found more than one allusion to the fashionable
' pickadel,' or * piccadilly.' It must be remarked, however, that the earliest
of these productions (and they have all evidently reference to a ridiculous and
ephemeral fashion of recent introduction) dates no further back than 1616 ; and,
moreover, according to erery evidence which I have been able to collect oa the
subject, the introduction of the l Piccadilly' was at least not of an earlier period
than 1614. When we are able, therefore, to prove, that the word ' Pickadilla'
was in common use as far back as 1596 (our authority is Gerard's 'Herbal,'
where the ' small wild buglosse/ or ox-tongue, is spoken of as growing upon
the banks of the dry ditches ' about Pickadilla,') we are compelled to disturb
the old opinion that the present street derives its name from a fashionable article
of dress which we find was not introduced till nearly twenty years after ' Picka-
dilla' had become a familiar name, and which, moreover, was little likely to be
sold in so rural a district as Piccadilly was ia the days of James the First.

" Let us be allowed to throw out one suggestion on the subject. Pickadilla
House, which stood nearly on the site of the present Panton- square, was a
fashionable place of amusement, apparently as far back as the reign of Elizabeth,
ar.d continued to be so nearly till the time of the Commonwealth. It has been
the custom of all countries to confer an alluring name on places of amusement,
— as for instance, we find the fashionable 'Folly' floating on the Thames in the
days of Charles the Second, — and I cannot, therefore, but think, that Pickadilla
House derived its name simply from the Spanish word peccadillo^ literally
meaning a venial fault, but which was intended, perhaps, to imply more than met
the eye. Under all circumstances, it seems far more reasonable to suppose that
the newly-invented ruff should have derived its name from being worn by the
fair ladies and silken gallants who frequented Pickadilla House, than that a
trifling article of dress should have given a name, first to the suburban emporium
in which it is asserted to have been sold, and afterwards to one of the principal
streets in Europe. Why, indeed, should a ruff have been called a piccadilla,
unless from some such reason as we have mentioned? Or what lady is there
who ever went into the fields to buy her attire? And, in the flays of Elizabeth
and James the First, Pickadilla House stood literally in the fields. The fact,
however, that ' Pickadilla' was a well-known spot, nearly twenty years before
the introduction of the ' pickadel,' or turn-over,' at least puts one part of the
argument at rest."

He has been equally successful in demolishing another popular tradi-
tion, when speaking of Cleveland-row, a the bottom of Saint James's
street, a place which at one time was remarkable for being frequented
by the fashionable wits. How often have we been told that the famous
quarrelling scene in the Beggar's Opera between Peachem and Lockitt
was intended as a skit upon the fracas between Wai pole and Townsend
and that the minister's neglect of Gay proceeded from resentment at
being thus held up to ridicule. By a single date Mr. Jesse upsets the
whole tradition.

" Here resided Colonel John Selvvyn, an aide-de-camp of the great Duke of
Marlborough, and the father of the memorable wit, George Selwyn: and it was

LITERATURE.

281

in his house that the celebrated personal encounter took place between Sir
Robert Walpole, then prime minister, and Lord Towushend, one of the Secreta-
ries of State. The particulars may be briefly related.

" During an altercation, in which they were engaged, Sir Robert exclaimed
with considerable warmth, — ' My Lord, for once, there is no man's sincerity
whom I so much doubt as your lordship's.' Lord Townshend, who to many
excellent qualities united a fiery and uncertain temperament, immediately seized
the first minister by the throat. Sir Robert grappled with his antagonist in
return, and, after a momentary struggle, both parties mutually relinquished their
grasp and la;d their hands on their swords. Mrs. Selwyn, who was present, ran
out in a fright to call in the palace guard ; she was prevented, however, by the
celebrated Henry Pelham, by whose interposition the friends were subsequently
reconciled. According to Wraxall, Gay introduced this scene into the 'Beggar's
Opera,' where Walpole and Townshend are represented as Peachum and
Lockit. Unfortunately however, for the truth of this literary anecdote, I find
that the fracas between the two ministers of state did not take place till the year
1729, at which period the * Beggar's Opera' had the run of the stage about
a year."

Sometimes our memorialist ventures out of the beaten track, as for in-
stance, when he gives an extract from an unpublished letter in the British
Museum, relative to the passage of Charles the First through Saint
James* Park on the morning of his execution. The passage is perhaps
of no great importance in itself, but its value is yet farther lessened by
his not affording us the slightest clue by which to find the document.
" A letter in the British Museum" is a somewhat vague direction even
for the most laborious student, and though we have no doubt the matter
is as he has stated it, yet it would have been more satisfactory had he at
least given us the option of referring to the original and judging for
ourselves.

The Green Park and St. James's Palace afford the memorialist an
opportunity of telling for the hundreth time the worn and well known
anecdotes of Charles the Second and his licentious Court, as in like
manner Marlborough-house naturally introduces us to the heros and
heroines of Queen Anne's reign. Then the Mall brings us to the
Hanoverian dynasty ; but as Charles Mathews in USED UP says of the
Colosseum and the crater of Mount Vesuvius, — there is nothing in it.
A reviewer may well be excused if he proves too much blase to be
strongly excited by so old an anecdote as the following : —

"These allusions to the exclusiveness of St. James's Park, in the reign of
George the First, are not a little curious; but it is still more remarkable to find
the Queen of King George the Second entertaining a serious intention of
excluding the public altogether fr.>m the Park, and converting it into a garden,
which was to be an appanage to the palace. When this project was first contem-
plated by her, she inquired of Sir Robert Walpole what he considered would be
the cost of the undertaking ? ' Madam,1 was the significant reply, ' only three
crowns,' "

After following the course of events for some time in this direction,
our memorialist, in hunting phrase, " tries back/' the old Palace of
Westminster bringing us with little preparation to the time of William
the Conqueror, whence we are led on regularly anecdotizing all the way,
'till after having escaped singeing by the Gunpowder Plot we find ourselves
in Westminster Hall, which opening upon Palace Yard allows us to see
the execution of Charles' adherents about six weeks after the death of
their master. The Hall itself gives him occasion for several pages

LITERATURE.

of historical anecdote, which he has raked up out of Holinshed and the
old chroniclers, excellent authorities no doubt, but almost too familiar
to afford a decent pretext for the gleaner. Then we have the trials of
Essex, Strafford, and Charles L, with nothing new however as to facts
or as to the mode of telling them, the interest which naturally belongs
to such narrations being their best recommendation. In saying this we
are not at all influenced by the author's political creed, neither do we
intend pronouncing any judgment on his opinions as to the rival claims
of the Stuarts and the House of Brunswick ; let them speak for them-
selves.

" The first of our German sovereigns, George the First, was crowned and
feasted at Westminster, the usual ceremonies being performed, if with less popu-
lar enthusiasm, at least with as much magnificence as had attended the corona-
tion ceremonial* of the Plantagenets or the Stuarts. The people of England
had not forgotten their ancient kings ; they remembered that the legitimate heir
to the throne was an exile in a foreign land ; half England was ready to embrace
a cause which was at once the rightful and the romantic one ; while the devoted
and enthusiastic Highlanders were ready, at a moment's notice, to draw the
claymore in favour of the descendant of Robert Bruce.

" Against this tide of national loyalty and enthusiasm, the German Elector
could oppose neither legitimate claims nor talents for government, not even fas-
cination of manner nor personal accomplishments. He was alike ungraceful in
his person and inelegant in his address ; alike ignorant in literature, ignorant of
the customs and manners of the people over whom he came to rule, ignorant
even of their very language, in which he had never thought it worth his trouble
to instruct himself. He was alike a bad husband, a bad man, and a bad King.
He had inherited from his great-grandfather, James the First, all the worst
qualities of the Stuarts, without their accomplishments. He could boast neither
the scholarship of James the First, nor the dignified manners, the high-bred melan-
choly look, and domestic virtues of Charles the First. He was as much a libertine
as Charles the Second without the excuse of youth and passion ; he kept almost as
many mistresses as that monarch, without their charms of youth and beauty ; and
he was as debauched as Charles without the charm of his affability, or the fascina-
tion of his wit. When Charles the Second, on the night of his Restoration, slipped
down the back stairs at Whitehall, and crossed the water to pass the night with
Lady Castlemaine, he had only that day completed his thirtieth year, while, when
George the First made his appearance in the British metropolis with his hideous
seraglio of German prostitutes, he had attained the mature age of fifty-five."

But though, wishing to avoid all political discussions, we make no
remarks upon this passage involving the claims of the two dynasties, it
may yet be permitted us to remark that the family of the Stuarts did set
an example of encouragement to English literature, which candour
must allow has not been imitated by any of their successors. It is
hardly possible, when reading the following extract, not to believe that
Charles the Second, whatever else might have been his faults, had the
heart and spirit of an Englishman.

e ' How much one would like to know the site of the house in the Strand — and
perhaps the house itself may still exist — in which Marvell spent his last days in
penury and privation, at a time when the slightest departure from his political
principles would have crowned him with the wealth which he wanted, and the
honours which he despised. It was at the very time when his poverty compelled
him to borrow a sovereign from a friend, in order to purchase the necessaries of
life, that the poet one day went forth from his wretched lodging in the Strand to
the splendid palace at Whitehall, for the purpose of passing the evening with the
merry monarch and his gay courtiers. Of the events and conversation of the

LITERATURE. 283

evening we have no record : the next day, however, while the poet was busily
employed at his studies, the door of his apartment, ' up two pair of stairs/ sud-
denly opened, and the Lord Treasurer, Lord Danby, made his appearance.
Marvell was much surprised at the unexpected visit, and expressed his opinion
that the Lord Treasurer must have mistaken his way. ' No/ said the other,
' not now that I have found Mr. Marvell/ He then endeavoured, by offer-
ing him a lucrative place under the government, and by every argument and
persuasion, to entice the patriot over to the court ; but Marvell, proud in his
povertv and integrity, turned a deaf ear to his solicitations. * My Lord/ he said
* I cannot in honour accept your offer ; if I did I must either be ungrateful to
the King by subsequently voting against him, or else false to my country in suc-
cumbing to the measures of the court. The sole favour which I have to ask of
his Majesty is, that he will believe me as dutiful a subject as any Avhich he has,
and that I am acting far more advantageously for his true interests by rejecting
his offers than I should do by accepting them.' Finding him inflexible, Lord
Danby delicately alluded to his necessities, and pressed him to receive a thousand
pounds as a free gift from his sovereign, and as a personal compliment to his
talents. This was under the rule of the Stuarts, when our monarchs were in the
habit of appreciating and associating with genius. James the First had patro-
nized every man of learning ; Charles the First was the friend of all the poets ;
and Charles the Second, among many other acts of generosity which proved his
appreciation of genius, is known to have presented Dryden with a sum of money,
and to have sent Wycherley five hundred pounds to enable him to recover his
health in the south of France."

After such a proof that Charles could upon occasion both think and
act nobly, we will pass over the murders committed by him under the
name of law, upon the gallant and patriotic spirits, who indeed brought
his father to the block, but who had done to the king only as he himself
would have done to them had his cause triumphed. But besides there
are graver and yet more important considerations that may bend us to
a right judgment. The king of England is the head of the English
Church, and what says religion both in letter and inspirit? that we
judge not lest we should be judged — that we let not the sun go down
upon our wrath — that we forgive our brother though he offend us
ninety and nine times. " Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord" — But
Charles dug up the bones of Cromwell, and wreaked his vengeance upon
the dead.

We have already noticed the want of order and connection in these vo-
lumes. They do not present a well digested and continued narrative, but a
fragmentary set of sketches, utterly independent of all date and rela-
tion to each other. The name of a street or house suggests an anecdote
of some distinguished character, and thus the same individual may be
mentioned over and over again, and often in juxtaposition with persons,
who lived long before he was born, or long after he was buried. With
all these defects however, and some others perhaps on the score of accu-
racy, the work is well calculated to satisfy the present appetite for
lighter publications that amuse without fatiguing, and which do not call
for any particular exercise of the reflective faculties on the part of the
reader.

284

BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS.

Ackers, Mrs. George Holland, of a dau., at Hyde Chalmers, Mrs. John J , of a son, at Keithock-

park-terrace, 2nd August. I house, co. Forfar, 7th August.

Andrese, Mrs. J. Charles, of a son, at Clapham- Chapman, Mrs. W. R., of a dau., 2Qth July.

common, 23rd July. Clarke, Mrs. L., of a son, at Blackheath-park, 25th

Appleton, Mrs. John, of a son and heir, at Norton, July.

Stockton upon Tees, 12th July. i Cole, Mrs. W- R., of a son, at Granville- square, 2nd

Askew, Mrs. H. W., of a son, at Edinburgh, 23rd | August.

July. JColyer, Mrs. Charles, of a son, 18th August.

Babington, Mrs. Benjamin, of a dau., at George Collette, Mrs. C. H., of a son, at Porchester- terrace,

street, Hanover-square, 5th August. • , 1st August.

Baines, Mrs. William, of a son, at Croydon, 15th Coote, Mrs., wife of Charles Purdon Coote, Esq.

August. 1 late of the 3rd Dragoon Guards, of a son and

Barclay, Mrs. Arthur Kett, of a dau., at Bury Hill, j heir, 8th August.

4th August. Cowburn, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Allan Cowburn, of

Barton, Mrs., of a dau., at the Royal Mint, 12th a dau., at Humber Rectory, 25th July.

August. Crofts, Mrs., wife of the Rev. C. D. Crofts, of a

Bates, Mrs. Robert M., of a son, at Norfolk- street, dau., at Caythorpe Rectory, 24th July.

4th August. Crofts, Mrs., of a dau., at Twickenham, 26th July,

Batson, Mrs. Alfred, jun., of a son, at Lucca, 3rd Crozier, Mrs., wife of F. H. Crozier, Esq. Madras

August. Civil Service, of a dau., at the Isle of Wight, 29th

Bentley, Mrs. John, of a dau., at Portland-place,1 July.

13th August. jCruttwell, Mrs., wife of C. I. Cruttwell, Esq. of

Bethell, Mrs. William, of a son, at Rise, llth Aug. | the Inner Temple, of a son, 30th July.
Birkinshaw, Mrs. J. C., of a son, at York, 17th! Dalison, Mrs. Maximilian, jun. of a dan., at

August. j Stamptons, near Tonbridge, 30th July.

Bonsey, Mrs. W. H., of a son, at Slough, 1st Aug. j Dalrytnple, Mrs. George T., of a dau., at Woolwich,
Booty, Mrs. John Gillam, of a dau., at Brixton, llth August.

30th July. I Davis, Mrs. Hewitt, of a son, at Spring Park, Ad-

Boyes, Mrs., the wife of Dr. W. R. Boyes, 5th
Bengal Irregular Cavalry, of a dau., at Blapowar,
1st June.

Bromley, Mrs., wife of Thomas Bromley, Esq.
E.I.C.S., of a dau., 17th August.

Brookes, Mrs. William, of Elmstree, of a son and

dington, 17th August

Denny, Mrs. Thomas Anthony, of a dau., at South-
wick Street, 3rd August.

Downer, Mrs. H. O., of a son, at Shepherds Bush,
14th August.

Downey, Mrs. John, of a dau., at Millbank, 5th

heir, 15th August. August.

Brooks, Mrs. J. Willis, of John-stree% Bedford- Doyle, Mrs. John H., of a dau., at Withycombe,

row, of a dau., 13th August. near Fxmouth, 14th August.

Broome, Mrs., wife of the Rev. J. H. Broome, Ducie, The Countess, of a son, 4th August.

Vicar of Houghton, of a son, 31st July. I Dudgeon, Mrs., of a dau., at Rusholme, near Man-

Browne, Mrs., of Mellington hall, co. Montgomery,! cheater, 13th August.

of a dau., at Heidelberg, 28th July. ; Ellis, Mrs. Richard, of a son, at Iver Moor, Bucks,

Browne, Mrs. Robert, of a dau., at Brixton, 16th' 23rd July.

August. j Ferguson, Mrs. Robert, of a dau., at Queen Street,

Burke, Mrs. James St. George, of a dau., at Wool-' Mayfair, 31st July.

mer Lodge, Hants, 12th August. Fleming, Mrs. Thomas Henry, of a son, at Ley

Butler, Mrs., wife of the Rev". Daniel Butler, of a Grange, Ashburton, 12th Auj ust.

dau., of St. John's Wood, 6th August. Fletcher, Lady, of a dau., at Ashley Park, Surrey,

Burr, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Luton, Beds, 14th 23rd July.

August. Foulger, Mrs. Arthur, of a son, at Walthamstow,

Buxtor., Lady Edward North, of a son, at Leyton- 23rd July.

stone, 5th August. Gilioli, Mrs. Joseph, of a son, at Albion Street,

Caldecot, Mrs. Charles M., of Holebrook Grange, Hyde Park, 25th July.

co. Warwick, of a son, 29th July. Gillam, Mrs., wife of the Rev. T. H. Gillam, of a

Camden, The Marchioness, of a son, 31st July. dau., still born, 3rd August-

Cappel, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Dr. Louis Cappel, Grant, Mrs. Wm. Charles, of a dau., at Collurapton,

of a dau., 24th July. Devon, 10th August.

Carpenter, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Brighton, Greenhill, Mrs., wife of Dr. Greenhill, of a dau., at

2nd August. Oxford. 24th July.

Carter, Mrs., wife of the Rev. W. A. Carter, of a Hambronph, Mrs. Albert, of a dau., at Ventnor,

son, at Eton, 14th August. 16th August.

Cartwright, Mrs. Henry, of a dau., at Forde-house, Hamilton, Mrs. Alfred, of Gidea Hall, Essex, of a

Devon, 13th August. dau., 23rd July.

BIRTHS.

285

Harryman, Mrs. "luomas, of a son, at Mereworth,

10th August.
Hartopp, Mrs. E. B., of a dau., at Dalby Hall, 31st

July.
H emery, Mrs.,

wife of The Very Rev. James

Hemery, Dean of Jersey, of a son, 12th August
Hemery, Mrs. Peter, of a son, at Jersey, 10th Aug.
Henshaw, Mrs. Charles, of a son, 4th August.
Hildyard, Mrs. E., of Wimstead Hall, of a son, 1st

August.
Hill, Mrs. Henry, of a dau., at Norfolk House, St.

John's Wood, 30th July.

oare, Mrs. Thomas Rolls, of a son, 15th August.

Neeid, Mrs., wife of John Neeld, Esq, M.P. of a

son, ifith August.
Nevinson, Mrs. Edward, of a dau., at Harapstead,

19th August.
Norton, Mrs. Robert, of a dau., at Monmouth

Road, Bayswater, 3rd August.
Noyes, Mrs. S. F., of a son, at Chester Square, 27th

July.
Nugent, Mrs., wife of Dr. Nugent, of a dau., at

Brighton, 12th August.
Okeden, Mrs. W. Parry, of a dau., at Turnworth,

2Qth July.
Oliver, Mrs., of Half Moon Street, of a son, 12th

ockley, Mrs., wife of Lieut. Adjutant Hockley, I August

of a son, at Dinapore, East Indies, 12th May. Onslow, Mrs., wife of the Rev. A. A. Onslow, of a

Hooper, Mrs. John James, of St. John Street, of a

son, 5th August.
How, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Augustus G. How, of

a son, at Bromley, St. Leonards, 2/th July.
Howell, Mrs. John, of a dau., at Clapham, 19th

August.

Hewlett, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Cambridge Ter-
race, 24th July.
Humby, Mrs. Edwin, of a dau., at Maida Hill, 18th

August.
Jackson, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Thomas Jackson,

of a dau., at Battersea, 30th July.
Johnson, Mrs. W. C., of a son, at Holloway, 5th

August.
Jones, Mrs. W. H., of a son, at Liverpool, 10th

August.
Judd, Mrs. J. P., of a dau., at Oxford Square, 9th

August.
Kay, Mrs., wife of William Kay, Esq. M. D., of a

son, at Clifton, 24th July.
Kingsford, Mis. James, of a son, at Sydenham,

17th August.

Lang, Mrs.
August.

of a son, at St. John's Wood, IGth

son, at Claverdon, co. Warwick, 6th August.
Owen, Mrs. Herbert, of a son, at Budleigh Salter-

ton, Devon, 24th July.
Owen, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Octavius Freire Owen,

M.A., of a dau., at Newark, 24th July.
Parr, Mrs. T. C., of a son, at Rockheare House,

Exeter, 24th July.
Pead, Mrs. Leonard, of a dau., at Brighton, 4th

August.
Pollock, Mrs. R,, of a son, at Manchester Street,

22nd July.
Powell, Mrs. Arthur, of a son, at Clapton House,

Middlesex, 3rd August.
Power, Mrs. Louis Thomas, of a son, at Gibraltar,

25th July.
Powys, Mrs., wife of the Hon. and Rev. Horace

Powys, of a dau., 25th July.
Price, The Hon. Mrs., wife of George Price, Esq. of

a dau., at Jamaica, 29th June.
Prichard, Mrs. Richard Preston, of a son, at Mil-
land House, Sussex, 14th August.
Randall, Mrs. J., of a dau., at Portman Street, 4th

August.
Ravenhill, Mrs., wife of the Rev. E. H. Ravenhill,

of Leominster, of a son, 5th August.
Rippon, Mrs. Abraham Crofton, of a dau., at

Charter House Square, 31st July.
Robbins, Mrs. Richard, of a dau., at Tavistock,

Devon, 18th August.
Scannell, Mrs., wife of D. Scannell, Surgeon, of a

dau., 7th August.
Seaton, Mrs. E. C., of Sloane Street, of a son, 3rd

August.
Senior, Mrs. Charles, of Liverpool, of a dau., 8th

August.
Sewell, Mrs , wife of Dr. C. Brodie Sewell, of Wal-

brook, of a dan., 16th August.
Shaw, Mrs. William Dalrymple, of a dau., at

Netting Hill, 15th August.
Shepherd, Mrs. John, of a dau., at Wandsworth

Road, 4th August.
Silvester, Mrs. H. E., of a son, at Beverley, llth

August.

Skipworth, Mrs. Randolph, of a son, at Wasperton,

May. I co. Warwick, 4th August.

Maund, Mrs. William Herbert, of the Hiil, Laver- [Smith, Mrs. Charles Augustus, of a dau., at Green-
stock, Wilts, of a dau., 16th August. j wich, 15th August.

Mayow, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Mayow Wynel ! Somner, Mrs. C. N., of a son, at Altona, 20th July.
Mayow, of a dau., at Market Lavington,^th Aug. Stephens, Mrs. Arthur, of a son, at Whitewall
Millburn, Mrs. Christopher, of a dau., at Myddie- j Hall, co. York, 31st July.

ton Square, 4th August. i Stopford, Viscountess, of a dau., 23rd July.

Mills, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Gloucester Terrace, Street, Mrs. E. M., of a son, at Ashling, Chichester,

18th August. | 26th July.

Milner, Mrs John Crosland, of twin daus., at Sturdee, Mrs. Henry Parker, of a dau., at New

Thurleston, co, York, 2nd August. i Brunswick, 26th July.

Minster, Mrs. John, Moolenberg, of a son, 16th Sugden, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Stillorgan, Dub-

Leech, Mrs. John, of Brook Green, Hammersmith,

of a dau., 2nd August.
Leith, Mrs., wife of Captain Leith, R.N. of a son,

at Minnie House, co. Aberdeen, 5th August,
Leonino, Mrs., of a son, at Westbourne Terrace,

24th July.
Littleton, Lady Margaret, of a son, at Hatherton,

10th August.

Lower, Mrs. E. W., of Pimlico, of a son, 31st July.
Luxmore, Mrs. Coryndon H., of a son, at Keppel

Street, 6th August.
Mackean, Mrs., wife of T. W. L. Mackean, Esq. of

a dau., at Hong Kong, 27th April.
Maclean, Mrs. John George, of Wimpole Street,

of a son, 1st August.
McNeile, Mrs. William, of a dau., at Dinapore,

East Indies, 24th May.
Maitland, Mrs. D. J., of a dau., at Gloucester

Terrace, Hyde Park, 15th August.
Martyr, Mrs. J. S., of a son, at Savoy, India, 3rd

August.

Moore, Lady Harriet, of a son, at Frittenden, 30th
July.

Morgan, Mrs. Thomas, jun. of Savage Gardens, of
a son, 1st August.

Moxon, Mrs. John, of a son, at Souldern, Oxon,
12th August.

Muirhead, Mrs. J. Patrick, of a son, at Leaming-
ton, 25th July.

Mulgrave, The Countess of, of a son, 13th August.

lin, 12th August
Sumner, Mrs. Charles, of a dau., at Farnham

Castle, 2nd August.
Tapson, Mrs., wile of Alfred J. Tapson, Esq. of a

dau., at Edgeware Road, 15th August.
Tegg, Mrs. W., of a son, Trinity Square, 27th July.
Tennant, Mrs. William, of a dau., at Dean's Yard,

Westminster, 23rd July.
Todd, Mrs. Colonel, of a dau., at Dresden, llth

July.

Mullens, Mrs. Richard, of a son, at Myddleton Tolderoy, Mrs. J. B., of a dau., at New Brunswick,
Square, 2nd August. 20th July.

VOL. IV. NO. XVTI.

236

BIRTHS, MARRIAGES.

Tomkyns, Mrs. John, of a dau., at the Rectory,

Greenford, 23rd July.
Tower, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Charles Tower, of a

dau., at Chilmark Rectory, 18th August.
Wade, Mrs., wife of the Rev. W. Serecold Wade,

of a dau., at Redburn, Herts, 15th August.
Waller, Mrs. Alfred, of a dau., at Woolwich, Qth

August.

Ward, Mrs. W. R., of a dau., at Lisbon, 6th Aug.
Ward, Mrs. Martindale, of twins, a son and dau.,

at Sloane Square, 12th August.
Ward, Mrs., wife of Dr. Ogle Ward, of a dau., at

Kensington, 12th August.
Waters, Mrs., wife of the Rev. E. T. Waters, of a

dau., at Wivenhoe Rectory, 9th August. •

Weber, Mrs. wife of Frederick Weber, Esq. M.D. of
Norfolk Street, of twin sons, one of whom only
survived, at Reigate, 22nd July.

Westmacott, Mrs. Horatio, of a dau., at Chastle-
ton Rectory, 22nd July.

Wodsworth, Mrs. W. D., of a dau., at Dublin, 30th
July.

Wood, Mrs., wife of Captain Mark Wood, Cold-
stream Guards, of a son and heir, 17th August.

Woodd, Mrs. Basil T., of a son, at Ajdboro
Lodge, co. York, 9th August.

Woodward, Mrs., wife of the Rev. J. H. Wood-
ward, of a dau., at Bristol, 26th July.

Worthington, Mrs. E. G., of a dau., at Wands-
worth Road, 3rd August.

Allen, the Rev. Stephen, M.A., curate of Christ
Church, Broadway, Westminster, to Jane, fourth
dau. of the late John Prescott Blencowe, Esq.,
of Lynn, 12th Aug.

Anderson, Thomas Darnley, Esq., to Dorothy, dau.
of the late Charles Horsfall, Esq., of Evorton,
5th Aug.

Atkins, Samuel Elliott, Esq., of Artillery- place
West, Finsbury, to Charlotte Ann, only dau.
of the late T. E. While, Esq., of St. John-street-
road, 24th July.

Avery, the Rev. John Gould, of Llanelly, to Jemi-
ma, only daughter of Charles Barron Norton,
Esq., of'Green-hill, Carmarthen, 20th July.

Baber, the Rev. Harry, Chaplain of Whitelands,
Chelsea, to Sarah Frances, eldest daughter of J.
Rodwell, Esq., of Alderton, 10th Aug.

Baddeley, Lieut. J. F., Royal Artillery, youngest
son of the late Major Baddeley, Superintendent-
General of the Barrack Department in Ireland,
to Emma, only daughter of Mrs. Curtis, of Ded-
ham, in the county of Essex, and of the late
William Curtis, Esq., 5th Aug.

Barrett, Samuel, Esq., of Lincoln's-inn, barrister-
at-law, to Eliza Jane, only child of the late
Henry Turner, Esq., of Twickenham, 3rd Aug.

Bassett, John Dollin, of Leighton Buzzard, banker,
to Hannah Maria Satterthwaite, of Leamington
Priors, widow of the late Edward Satterthwaite,
of Manchester, 19th Aug.

Bayly, Thomas Heathcote, Esq., of the Middle
Temple, barrister-at-law, to Helen Kay, dau. of
Stuart Donaldson, Esq., of Upper Hyde Park
street, 27th July.

Bedder, Joseph, Esq.. of Camden-cottage, Camden
New-town, to Juliet, Second daughter of Mrs.
Charlotte E. I. and the late Peter Lovekin, Esq.,
of Bushey, Herts, 10th Aug.

Bede, the Rev. J. E., M.A., Student of Christ
Church, rector of Westwell, Oxon, to Hester
Charlotte, daughter of the late John Lodge, Esq.
22nd July.

Beil, Horace James, second son of J. B. Bell, Esq.,
to Harriett Andrews, eldest daughter of the late
Captain James Dowling, Barrack-master of St.
James's, 14th Aug.

Bennett, Barwell Ewins, Esq., of Marston -house,
in the county of Northampton, to Lydia, the
widow of Charles Butlin, Esq., of Rugby, in the
county of Warwick, 5th Aug.

Bennett, John Nicholas, Esq., of Plymouth, to
Emily, only daughter of William Prance, Esq.,
of the same place, 12th Aug.

Bland, Horatio, Esq., of Culverlands, in the parish
of Burghfields, Berks, to Emily Alicia, eldest
daughter of the Rev. Henry Curtis Cherry, M.A.
rector of Burghfield, 3rd Aug.

Borton, Edward, Esq. of Lincoln's-inn, barrister-

at-law, to Margaret, second dau. of Geo. Hutton
Wilkinson, Esq., of Harperley-park, Durham,
Recorder of Newcastle-on-Tyne, and Judge of
the County Courts for Northamptou, 10th Aug.

Butt, Wm., Esq., C.E., of Bicester, Oxfordshire,
second son of the Rev. J. W. Butt, vicar of King's
Langlcy, Hertfordshire, to Mary Elizabeth, only
chi'd of H. Shearburn, Esq., for Mornington-
place, Regent's-park.

Cardwell, William, Esq., of Whalley-range, near
Manchester, to Ann Doncaster, daughter of John
Isaac Marfleet, Esq., of Winthorpe-grove, Not-
tinghamshire, 5th Aug.

Caston, Howard, Esq., Hammersmith, to Mary
Jane, eldest daughter of John Nelson, Esq.,
Abbey House, Enniscorthy, Ireland, IQth Aug.

Cator, John Farnaby, Esq., Captain R.A., to
Laura, youngest daughter of the late Edward
Golding, Esq., of Maiden Erlegh, in the county
of Berks, 19th Aug.

Chamberlain, J. R. Esq., to Erie, eldest dau. of the
late William Jepson Pardey, M.D., 8th July.

Clarke, Major Guy, 77th Regiment, son of the late
Major General Sir William Clarke, Bart., to
Sophia, relict of Captain William Walker, 26th
Regiment, and daughter of the late John Tyr-
whitt, Esq., of Pentre Parr, Carmarthenshire,
24th July.

Clarke, tiie Rev. Thomas, British Consular Chap-
lain at Calais, to Elizabeth, eldest daughter of
Thomas Osborne, Esq., Deputy Commissary-
General to the Forces, 5th Aug.

Collins, Thomas, Esq., of Lorn-road, to Ann, relict
of the late Rev. John Parson, rector of West
Lynn, St. Peter's, Norfolk, 3rd Aug.

Colvile, the Rev. Frederick Leigh, vicar of Leek
Wooton, Warwickshire, to Caroline Mary, second
daughter of the late Rev. William John Mansel,
eldest «on of the late Sir Wm. Mansel, Bart., of
Ischoed, Carmarthenshire, 28th July.

Constance, Mr. Edward, of Hanover place, Regent's
park, to Elizabeth, youngest daughter of the late
John Ellwood, Esq., Peckham-rye, 12th Aug.

Cooper, William, only surviving son of John
Cooper, Esq., of Shacklewell-green, to Elizabeth,
only daughter of Henry Weir, Esq., of the
London and County Bank, Gravesend, 10th Aug.

Cornish, John Robert, Esq., barrister-at-law, of
the Inner Temple, and student of Christ Church,
Oxford, to Elizabeth Gray, only child of the late
George Isaac Mowbray, Esq., of the county of
Durham, and granddaughter of Robert Gray,
D.D., late Lord Bishop ol Bristol, 19th Aug.

Crawley, Mr. J., of Chelsea, to Elizabeth, dau. of
Thomas Spence, of Stratford, and eldest grand-
daughter of the late Sawyer Spence, Esq., of
Upton, Essex, 23rd July.

Crocker, Sydney, Esq., of 30, Acacia - road, to

MARRIAGES

287

Annie Frances, daughter of William James, Esq.,
of Norfolk-road, St. John's Wood, 19th Aug.
Currey, J. Edmond, Esq., of Pall-mall, son of the
late Lieutenant- Colonel Currey, formerly of the
54th Regiment, to Mary, relict of the late Capt.
James Sims Unwin, Bombay Artillery, 12th Aug
Dalziel, Edward, Esq., of Albert street, Regent's
park, to Jane, eldest daughter of Mr. C. Gurden
of Camden street, Camden town, 31st July.
Davidson, Hugh Murray, Esq., to Anna Maria
Laura Beresford Darby, only child of the lat(
William Darby, Esq., of the 13th (or Prince Al
bert's) Light Infantry, and eldest daughter o:
Mrs. Shaw, of Ellenborough Lodge, Agra, and
Bathwick-hill, Bath, granddaughter of the late
Colonel William Scott, and the late Kerny Darl
Esq., of Cara, county of Monaghan, 8th June.
Dawson, Dr., of Finsbury-circus, London, to An-
nette Maria Francisca Celestina, eldest dau. o
William Oldham, Esq., of Holbrook House
Richmond, and of Port St. Mary's, Spain, 14th
Aug.

Dimsdale, Frederick, youngest son of the late Tho-
mas Dimsdale, Esq., of Grove House, Hadley,
Middlesex, to Mary, eldest daughter of William
Manning, Esq., of Worcester, 3rd Aug.

Douglas, Donald, Esq., youngest son of the late
Lieutenant-General !Sir Kenneth Douglas, Bart.,
of Glenbervie, to Emily Jane, fourth daughter of
Hugh Kennedy, Esq., Cultra, county of Down,
Ireland, 5th Aug.

Drake, Mr. Frederic, of Gresham, in the county of
Norfolk, to Mary, fourth niece of Abraham
Easley, Esq., of Hoxton, Middlesex, 28th July.

Elsey, Major, of the E. I. Go's. Depot, at Worley,
to Eliza Henrietta Wetherall, widow of the
late Captain Wetherall, 41st Foot, 10th Aug.

Erskine, the Hon. Edward Morris, to Caroline,
widow of the late Andrew Voughnan, Esq., 24th
July.

Fenwick, William John, eldest son of the late
Ralph Fenwick, Esq., of Haling-park Surrey,
to Mary Elizabeth, only daughter of the late
General Wilson, 27th July.

Ferrand, William Busfeild, Esq., of Harden
Grange, in the county of York, to the Hon.
Fanny Mary Stuart, second daughter of Lieut -
General the late Lord Blantyre, 10th Aug.

Few, Mr., surgeon, of Ramsey, Huntingdonshire,
to Elizabeth, eldest daughter of the late Thomas
Levens, Esq., of Upwell, Norfolk, 31st July.

Few, William Edward, second son of Charles Few,
Esq., of Henrietta street, Covent garden, and
Streatham hill, to Mary Helen Denis, only dau.
of Mathew De Vitro", Esq., of Sjuthwick-cres-
cent, Hyde-park, 27th July.

Fincham, George T., M.D.. Oxon, of Spring
gardens, to Anna Elizabeth, eldest daughter of
James Hey gate, Esq., of Southend, Essex, 31st
July.

Finnic, Archibald, Esq., of Springhill, to Margaret
Monteath, eldest daughter of the late John
Guthrie, Esq., 3rd Aug.

Firmin, Philip Smith, Esq., to Eliza Wright,
third daughter of John Hulme, Esq., of Woking-
ham, and granddaughter of the late Lieutenant-
Colonel Donaldson, Grenadier Guards, 12th Aug.

Frank, Rodolphua Bacon, Esq., A.M., Catherine
Hall, Cambridge, son of the late Rev. Edward
Frank, of Campsall Hall, Yorkshire, to Susan,
eldest daughter of Richard Anthony, Esq., Drum-
condra, Dublin, 5th Aug.

Fraser, Mr. Alexander, eldes* son of Mr. Robert
Fraser, of Pimlico, to Charlotte, only daughter
of the Rev. John S. H. Welsh, curate of Lewis-
ham, IQth Aug.

Fraser, the Rev. Alexander C., private chaplain to
Field Marshal the Marquis of Anglesea, and
chaplain to the Royal Military Academy, Wool-
wich, to Caroline, youngest daughter of the late
Rev. Christopher Atkinson, incumbent of El
land, Halifax, and of St. Paul's, Leeds, 12th
Aug.

Fust, the Rev. Henry Lasceeles Jenner, B.C. L.,
son of the Right Hon. Sir Herbert Jenner Fust,

D.C.L., Judge of the Prerogative Court of
Canterbury and Dean of the Arches, to Mary
Isabel, eldest daughter of Captain William Fin-
laison, R.N., llth Aug.

Gardoni, Signer Italo, of Her Majesty's Theatre,
to Annetta, eldest daughter of Signor Tamburini,
of the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden, 14th
Aug.

Garth, Richard, eldest son of the Rev. Richard
Garth, of Farnham, to Clara, second daughter of
William Loftus Lowndes, Esq., Q.C., 27th
July.

Giffard, Captain George, Royal Navy, son of the
late Sir Hardinge Giffard, to Magdalene Christian
youngest daughter of the late Robert Mushet,
Esq , 5th Aug.

Gilbert, Edward John, Esq., of Kennington, to
Charlotte, fourth daughter of the late John
Stephen Geldard, Esq., of Kensington, llth
Aug.

Goddard, Ambrose Lethbridge, Esq., M.P., of the
Lawn, Wiltshire, to Charlotte, the eldest dau. of
Edward Ayshford Sandford, Esq., of Nynehead-
court, Somerset, 14th Aug.

Grahame, Thomas, Esq., to Elizabeth, widow of
the late Major-General Alexander Limond, 28th
July.

Graves, James Percival, Esq., of Fitzwilliam square,
Dublin, third son of the late John Crosbie Graves,
Esq., barrister-at-law, to Georgina, youngest
daughter of Thomas Orte Lees, Ksq., of Bloom-
field, in the county of Dublin, 12th Aug.
•razebrook, Henry, eldest son of Henry Graze-
brook, Esq., Liverpool, to Harriette, daughter of
Richard Wheeler Preston, Esq., Beech-hill, West
Derby, 5th Aug.

Green, the Rev. J. H. B., M.A., youngest son of
the late Valentine Green, Esq., of Normanton,
Leicestershire, to Janetta, sixth daughter of the
late William Watkins, Esq., of Badby House,
in the county of Northampton. 2/th July.

Haig, George D. H., Esq., of Dalgam, Carnarvon-
shire, to Mary, only daughter of Joseph Pike,
Esq., of, Charles-street, St. James's-square, 29th
July.

Harris, G. W., Esq., to Cecil, youngest daughter
of Professor Bernays, Ph. Dr. of King's College,
London, 14th Aug.

flarwood, Edward Morcom, of Bristol, son of the
late Mr. J. B. Harwood, to Maria, eldest dau. of
Mr. William Stuchey, of Montpellier, in the
same city, 13th Aug.

Hawkins, J. S. Esq., Captain, Royal Engineers, to
Leonora Mary, eldest daughter of Denis H.
Kelly, Esq., of Castle Kelly, county of Galway,
llth Aug.

Hay, John Charles Dalrymple, Esq., Commander,
R.N., eldest son of Sir James Dalrymple Hay,
Bart., of Park-place, and Dunraggit, to the Hon.
Eliza Napier, third daughter of the Right Hon.
William John Lord Napier, 18th Aug.

Henry, James Grant, Esq., of Lawrance Pountney-
hill, London, youngest son of Thomas Henry,
Esq., of Bush-hill, Middlesex, to Mary Raw-
lings, eldest daughter of Edward Aitchison,
Esq., R.N., of Groombridge, 3rd Aug.

Hessey, the Rev. James Augustus, D.C.L., head-
master of Merchant Taylors' School, and late
Fellow of St. John's College, Oxford, to Emma,
second daughter of Philip Cazenove, Esq., of
Clapham common, 27th July.

Hewson, Henry, Esq., surgeon, son of George
Hewson, Esq., Captain, R.N., to Sarah, young-
est daughter of Mr. George Newington, of
Hawkhurst.

Hildyard, the Rev. James, rector of Ingoldsby,
Lincolnshire, to Elizabeth Matilda, only dau. of
George Kinderley, Esq., of Whitchurch, and
granddaughter of the late John Adams, Esq.,
of Peterwell, Cardiganshire, M.P. for Carmar-
then, IQth Aug.

Hill, Thomas St., Esq. at Port of Spain, Trinidad,
to Harriett, second daughter of Mr. Henry Man-
well, of Milton-street, Dorset-square, London,
22nd June.

288

MARRIAGES.

Hodgson, George, Esq., son of Dr. Hodgson, of
Anlaby, near Hull, to Isabel, eldest daughter of
Captain Francis Huddleston, of Russel- street,
Dublin, and granddaughter .*f the late Thomas
Huddleston, Esq., of Milton, Cambridgeshire,
4th Aug.

Holder, George, Esq., jun., at Rio de Janeiro, to
Laura Paulina Thomas, of South Lambeth, 22nd
May.

Home, James, Esq., of Berkeley-sqaare, to Geor
giana Ann, second daughter of Thomas How

Esq., of Gordon-house,
Aug

Turnham-greea, 14th

Hovvell, Charles, Esq., of Hove, near Brighton, to
Mien, youngest and only surviving daughter ol
the late David Kichards, Esq., of Bath, 12th
Aug.

Hunt, Henry Samuel, Capt., R. N., to Emily, only
daughter of the late Lieutenant- Colonel Steel
of the Hon. East India Company's Service, 27th
July.

Hyinan, Leonard, Esq., to Octavia Jane, youngest
dau. of Henry Fisher, Esq., 16th Aug.

Jones, Joseph, second son of Joseph Jones, Esq.
of Upton, Cheshire, to Jane Harriette, only dau,
of the late W. Turner Comber, Esq., of Hooe-
lodge, Sussex, 22nd July.

King, Edward, only son of John King, Esq., of
Brunswick-square, Brighton, to Caroline Amelia
fourth daug' ter of Arthur Lewis, Esq., also o
Brunswick-square, Brighton, 10th Aug.

Lascelles, John, Esq., of the Middle Temple, bar
rister-at-law, to Rosinia, eldest daughter of th(
late Frederick Wm. Masterman, Esq., of Alcot
near Calcutta, 24th July.

Law, George Still, Esq., barrister-at law, only son
of George Law, Esq. of No. 10, Lincoln's inn
and of No. 5, Montague-place, Bedford square
to Emma, third dau. of the late Thomas Halli
day, Esq., of Ewell, in the county of Surrey, I7tl
Aug

Le Blanc, Thomas Edmund, E'-q., late Captain
37th Regiment, eldest son of Colonel Henry L
Blanc, of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea, to Laura
Catherine, second dau. of Joseph Longmorc,
Esq., of the Mythe-house, Gloucestershire, 14th
Aug.

Leigh, Capel Hanbury, Esq., of Pontypool-park,
Monmouthshire, to Emma Elizabeth, fourtl:

dau. of Thomas B. Rons, Esq., of Courtyrala,
Glamorganshire, 20th Aug.

Professor of Chemistry in King's College, Lon-
don, 12th August.

Ia> getts, Edward, second son of the late Thomas
Margetts, Esq., of Hemingford Grey, Huntingdon-
shire, to Ellen, younger dau. of the late Robert
Prince, Esq., of Canonbury, 24th July.

Vlastermann, Edward, Esq., third son of John
Masterma, Esq. M.P., of Leyton, Essex, to Eilen
Sarah, second dau. of the late John Barkworth,
Esq , of Tranley-house, Yorkshire, 12th Aug.

May, Charles Bower, Esq., of Burslem, to Harriet
Hopkins, only dau. of the late Richard Badnall,
Esq., of Leek, 22d July.

Melfort, the Due de, &c., to Susan Henrietta,
widow of the late Colonel Burrowes, 9th Aug.

Melville, George Whyte, Esq., Captain in the Cold-
stream Guards, to the Hon. Charlotte Bateman
Hanbury, second dau. of the late, and sister of
the present Lord Bateman, 7th August.

Middleton, Horace Friend, Esq., of the Lawn,
Blockley, Worcestershire, to Isabella, youngest
dau. of the late James Field, Esq., of Chesham-
vale, igth August

Mitford, Robert Henry, Esq., of Benhall, Suffolk, to
Anne, youngest dau. of the late Lieut.-Col. Wm.
Henry Wiiby, and uiece of the Rev. Charles
Paul, 12th August.

Muggeridge, Nathaniel, Esq., of Queen-street
London, to Elizabeth, dau. of Alexander Curling
Esq., of Denmark hill, Surrey, 7th August.

Nash, Edward Richard, third son of William Nash,
Esq., of Clapham-common, to Caroline Amelia,

Smngest dau. of Henry Butterworth, Esq., of
ppcr Tooting, Surrey, 27th July.

Neale, Melville, M.D., to Jane, dau. of John Sco-
bell, Esq of Hawley, 29th July.

Nelson, William Benford, Esq., of Essex-street,
Strand, to Emma, youngest dau. of the Rev. J.
G. Bedford, of Twyford, 29th July.

Nutt, Mr. George, son of John Nutt, Esq., Town
Clerk of Canterbury, to Sybell Julia, dau. of the
late John Weippert, Esq., of Soho-square, 3lst
July.

Oldfield, Thomas, Esq., of the Middle Temple,
barrister-at-law, eldest son of T. B. Oldfield, Esq.,
of Champion-hill, Surrey, to Louisa Margaret
third dau. of Simeon Warner, Esq., of Black-
heath, Kent, 10th August.

Oliver, James, Esq., of Lansdowne-lodg'e, Kensing-

ton-park, to Georgiana Sophia, only surviving dau.

of the late Wm. Cartwright, Esq., 24th July.

Le Roy, Peter, Esq., Sous~Prefet of Bayonne, to' O'Neill, J. Gower, second son of Bernard O'Neill,
Mary, eldest dau. of Stanislaus Darthez, Esq. of Esq., Woolwich, to Caroline, only dau. of J. H.
Pau, formerly of York-terrace, Regent's-park,] Keats, Esq., of Fulham, Middlesex, 27th July.

and Austin friars, London, 19th July.

Locke, John, Esq., of the Inner Temple, barrister-
at law, oniy son of John Locke, Esq., of Herne-
hill, Surrey, to Laura Rosalie Cobbe, daughter
of the late Colonel Thomas Alexander Cobbe,
17th Aug.

Lockwood, Benj. Crosbv, eldest son of Mark Lock-
wood, Esq., of Cloudesley-terrace, Islington, to
Rebecca, second dau. of Dr. Gladstone, R.N,,
Blackheath, 10th Aug.

Lloyd, John Augustus, surgeon, of Bath, to Hen-
rietta Rowland, dau. of Wm. Ringer, Esq., of
Laugharne, I Oth Aug.

Ludlow, Captiin E. E., late of the E.I.C S., to
Elizabeth Catherine, widow of the late H. Hous-
ton, Esq., 3rd Aug.

Mackinnon, D. Lionel, Esq., Coldstream Guards,
third son of W. Mackinnon, Esq., M.P., Hyde
park -place, to Charlotte Lavinia, third daughter
of Major-General Sir Dudley Hill, C.B., of High
Cliff-house, Lyme, Dorsetshire, 12th August.

Marcon, Rev. Walter Marcon, fourth son of the
late John Marcon, Esq., of Swaffham, Norfolk,
to Caroline, eldest dau. of the late Rev. Henry
Middleton, vicar of Barton-Stacey, Hants, 28th
July.

Maitland, John Gorham, of Lincoln's-inn, Esq.,
barrister-at-law and fellow of Trinity College,
Cambridge, to Emma, second dau. of the late
John Frederick Daniell, Esq., D.C.L., F.R.S ,

Ottley, Herbert Taylor, youngest son of the late
Warner Ottley, Esq., ef York-terrace, Regent's
park, and Stanwell, Middlesex, to Kate, eldest
dau. of James Bell, Esq., of Newton Forbes,
24th July.

Oxley, Edward, Esq., to Margaret, dau. of Wm.
Wilson, Esq., of Wa
August.

Wandsworth - common, 3rd

Paget. Rev. Thomas Bradley Paget, vicar of Welton
to Sophia Beckett, third dau. of Edmund Den i
son, Esq., of Uoncaster, iQth August.

Pain, Thomas, eldest son of George Pain, Esq., of

Georgiana, youngest
Smith, Esq., of Toxte

dau. of the
xteth-park, near

Salisbury, to

late Jonathan mth, Esq.

the former place, 29th July.
Paine, Thomas, Esq., of Park-village, Regent's

park, to Anna, eldest dau. of James Neave, Esq.,

of Downham-grove, 18th August.
Parringtori, Rev. M. of Chichester, to Lucy Jane,

eldest dau. of W. H. Roberts, Esq., of the former

place, 3rd August.
Paton, George, M.A. of Trinity College, Cambridge,

and Lincoln's-inn, Esq., barrister-at-law, to

Laura Sophia, second kdau. of the late Frederick

R. Coore, Esq., of Devonshire-place, 18th Aug.
Pattle, Captain Thomas, I6ch Lancers, to Marian

Lucia, second dau. of the late John Jervaise

Maude, Esq., of Great George- street, Westmin

ster, 18th Aug.
Petre, Hon. Frederick, to Georgiana, eldest dau. of

MARRIAGES.

289

the late Sir Christopher Margrave, Bart., of
Eden-hall, Cumberland, 29th July.

Phillips, John, Esq., of Hastings, to Phoebe Pa-
tience, eldest dau. of Wm. Hnmphrey Pilcher,
Esq., of New Broad-street, 31st July.

Philpot, John, jun., Esq., of Southampton-street,
Bloomsbury, to Elizabeth Mary, youngest dau. of
the late Captain John Gold, uf the Brunswick]Hu8-
sars, 4th August.

Pickersgill, Frederick Richard. Esq., of Leigh-st.,
Burton-crescent, to Mary N. E. eldest dau. of the
Hon. James Hook, of Sierra Leone, 5th August.

Piper, Captain Robert M. of Cumberland-house,
Shepherd's Bush, and Rusper, Sussex, to Mary
Christiana Louisa "Weiss, of Chester- terrace, Re-
gent's Park, and Brighton, 12th August.

Pocklington, Captain, late 52nd Light Infantry, to
Barbara Campbell, only child of the late Alexan-

only
ield,

der Scott Broomfield, Esq., of Rosemore, co.
Clare, and Hollywood, co. Wicklow, Ireland, Qth
August.

Ponder, James, only son of Mr. Richard Ponder,
Duke-street, St. James's, London, to Hannah,
youngest surviving dau. of the late Mr. James
Daws, of Attleborough, Norfolk, 4th August.

Pope, Peter Montagu, M. D., second son of the
late Rev. Robert Pope, to Sarah, eldest dau. of
Samuel Mercer, Esq., of West Farleigh, 28th
July.

Portalis, Andree Nicholas, Esq., of Beyrout, and of
Beteta, Mount Lebanon, to Jane Cundall, eldest
dau. of Robert Brockholes Parker, Esq. R.N.
28th June.

Preston, Charles, third son of the late Admiral
Preston, of Askam Bryan, in the county of York,
to Mary Sullivan, third dau. of John Dalton,
Esq., of Steningford-park, in the same county,
and of Fillingham Castle, in the county of Lin-
coln, 10th August.

Priden, Rev. Wm. rector of West Stow cum Word
well, Suffolk, to Marianne, only dau. of John
Worlledge, Esq , of Jngham, 5th August.

Prince, Daniel, Esq., of Headon, Middlesex, to
Anne, eldest dau. of the late Vice-Admiral Sir
Thomas Boulden Thompson, Bart., G.C.B., of
Hartsbourne, Herts, 18th August.

Pringle, Captain R. E. to Emily, only dau. of the
late Professor Malthus, 17th August.

Prior, Rev. John Lawrence, M.A., vicar of Maldon,
only son of A. R. Prior, Esq., to Emma Catha-
rine, youngest dau. of the late Sir W. Lawrence
Young, Bart., of Delaford, Bucks, 22d July.

Pritchard, North, Esq., of Norwood, Surrey, to
Mary, youngestfdau. of Henry Aston Barker
Esq., of Bitton, 29th July.

Pulleo, Rev. Joseph, Fellow of Corpus Christ!
College, and incumbent of St. Benedict's, Cam
bridge, to Frances Elizabeth, eldest dau. of the
late Rev. Richard^Carrow, of Rediand, Glocester-
shire, 26th July.

Parvis, Arthur, Esq., Madras Civil Service, eldest
son of Lieut. -Col. Purvis, of Darsham-house,
Suffolk, to Mary Jane, second dau. of Colonel
Clark Kennedy, of Knockgray, C.B , K.H.,and
Aide-de-Camp to the Queen, 7th August.

Ravenhill, Henry, Esq., of Clapham-common, to
Emily, dau. of Thomas Puckle, Esq., of the
same place, 18th August.

Richardson, Sir John, Inspector of Hospitals, Has
lar, to Mary, youngest dau. of the late Archibald
Fletcher, Esq., advocate, Edinburgh, 4th AUK.

Robinson, John Beverley, Esq., second son of Chief
Justice Robinson, of Upper Canada, to Mary
Jane, eldest dau. of the late Hon. Mr. Justice
Hagerman, 30th June.

Sanctuary, Itev. Thos. of Croughton, Northampton-

shire, to Isabel Lloyd, third dau. of the late Right
Rev. Charles Lord Bishop of Oxford, 10th

Caroline, eldest dau. of the Hon. and Rev. Sir
Erasmus Grimes Williams. Bart., of Llwyny-
Wormwood, Carmarthenshire, I8th August.

Scarnett, William Henry, Esq., of Greenard, Mid-
dlesex, to Miss Ann Elizabeth Brown, of Clapham,
5th August.

Searancke, Francis Joseph, Esq., of St. Alban's, to
Miss Shipton, of New Lodge, Berks, 29th July.

Shaw, Captain, to Madame Cathinka de Dietz, 7th
August.

Shon, Mayow, Esq., chairman of quarter sessions,
to Annis Rachel, dau. of the Rev. Dr. Panton, of
Widcombe, and niece of the Vice-Chancellor of
Jamaica 15th July.

Smith, Alfred, Esq., of Derby, son of the late George
Smith, Esq., of Selsdon, in the county of Surrey,
to Mary, eldest dau. of the Right Hon. Sir James
Wigram, Vice-Chancellor, 3rd August.

Smith, John Prince, only son of the late John
Prince Smith, barrister-at-law, of Demerara, to
Charlotte Augusta, dau. of the late J. G. Som-
rnerbrodt, banker, of Berlin, 2d August.

Smythe, George, Esq., of Bradfield villa, St. John's
Wood, to Marian, widow of the late. Wm. Tyler,
Esq., of Kensineton, 31st July.

Sneppe, Edward, Esq., of Thurloe square, to Han-
nah Neville, sixth dau. of the late Wm. Spong,
Esq., of Cobtree-house, near Maidstone, Kent,
14th July.

Stevens, Edward, Esq., of London, to Jane Sarah,
relict of James Graves, Rochester, 7th August.

Stevenson, Martin, Esq., of Valparaiso, to Clara Val-
entina, dau. of Hugh Cuming, Esq., of Gower-
street, London, 6th May.

Stewart, John Grant, Esq., M.D., Deputy Medical
Inspector of Naval Hospitals and Fleets, to Ella,
third dau. of^W. Fossett, Esq., of the Admiralty,
3rd August.

Stronghill, Charles, Esq., of Coleman-street, Lon-
don, and of Brixton, Surrey, solicitor, to Caroline,
second dau. of Thomas Gulliver, Esq., of Blox-
ham, near Banbury 29th July.

Suckling, Captain Wm. B., R.N., of Highwood-
lodge, Hampshire, eldest.son of the late Colonel
Suckling, 3rd Dragoon Guards, of Banham
Haugh, in the county of Norfolk, to Caroline
Loaden, second dau. of the late Wm. Loaden,
Esq., of Rose-hill, near Bideford, in the county
of Devon, 6th August.

Taylor, Russell Scot, Esq., eldest son of the late
John Edward Taylor, Esq., of Manchester, to
Emily Maria, only dau. of the late Gideon Ac-
land, Esq., barrister-at-law, of St. Thomas,
Upper Canada, 12th August.

Taylor, Vincentio Corbctt, Captain of the 3rd Mad-
ras Light Infantry, to Jane, eldest dau. of W.R.
Robinson, Esq., of Portman square, 17th Aug.

Train, George, Esq., John street, Bedford-row,
London, to Grace Harriet, youngest dau. of John
Babington, Esq., late Madras Civil Service, llth
August.

Turner, Benjamin Brecknell, of the Haymarket,
London, to Agnes, eldest dau. of Henry Cham-
berlain, Esq., of Bredicot court, near Worcester,
17th August.

Twining, Henry, Esq., second son of Thomas
Twining, Esq., of Perryn-house, Twickenham, to
Mara Matilda, eldest dau. of Wm. Saund jrs, Esq.
of Wandsworth-common, 10th August.

Tylden, Captain, Royal Artillery, to Lucy, eldest
dau. of Lieut. -Gen. Sir Thomas Downman, C.
B., and K C.H., 12th August.

Vores, Wm. Esq., M.D., to Jane Ann, the second
dau. of George Mallam.Esq , of the Upper Mall,
Hammersmith, 3rd August.
Wake, Mr. Wm. Orpwood, of Mount Brown, Dub-

Aug.

lin, to Mary, youngest dau. of Mr. John W.
Parker, of West Strand, London, 17th August.

Saunders, Richard, of Largay, in the county of j Waley, Jacob, Esq., of Lincoln's-inn, burrisK-r-at-
Cavan, Esq., to Jane, relict of Richard Leigh, j law, to Matilda, youngest dau of the lute Joteph
Esq., of Hawley-house, Kent, 31st July. | Salomons. Esq., 28th July.

Savage, Win. Maivdley, eldest son of Thomas Sav- j Waring, Edward John, fourth son of the late Capt.
age, Esq., of Midsomcr Norton, Somerset, to Waring. R, N., of Lyme Regi*, Dorset, to Caro*

290

MARRIAGES ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

line Ann, eldest dau. of Wm. Day, Esq. of Had
low, Sussex, one of Her Majesty's Deputy-Lieu-
tenants for that county, 3rd August.

Watkin?,Rev. Fred. B.D, Fellow of Emmanuel Col-
lege, Cambridge, and one of Her Majesty's Inspec-
tors of Schools, to Amelia, eldest dau. of the
Rev. George Millet, M, A., vicar of Silkstone, York-
shire, 5th August.

Weippert, John, Esq., of Soho-square, to Dorothy
Ann, eldest dau. of John Nutt, Esq., Town Clerk
of Canterbury, 31st July.

Whitaker, T. H. Esq., of the Holme, Lancashire, to
Mary, eldest dau. of James B. Garforth, Esq , of
Collision in-Craven, 2 lst;July.

Williams, FrederieVSims, M.A., of Trinity College,
Cambridge, and of Lincoln's-inn,barrister-at-lawf
to Katharine Eliza, dau. of John Smith, Esq., of
Twickenham, 10th August.

Wodehouse, the Right Hon. John Baron, of Kira-
berley park, in the county of Norfolk, to Florence,
eldest dau. of Colonel the Hon. Richard Fitz-
Gibbon, 16th August.

Worthington, Edward Esq., of Dee House, Chester,
to Maria, dau. of Christopher Temple, Esq.,
Queen's Counsel, 3rd August.

Wyatt, George, Esq., Her Majesty's Civil Service,
to Emily Jane, third dau. of Thomas Percival
Mayhew, Esq., of North Brixton, 14th August.

Adderley, Thomas, Esq. at Upper Clapton,
aged 92.

Allen, Miss Jane, at Islington, 28th July.

Andrews, Thomas, Esq. of Hempsted, Essex,
18th August.

Angell, Edward, Esq. of apoplexy, at Not-
ting Hill, aged 77, 13th August.

Armstrong, Edmund James, Esq. at Edin-
burgh, aged 1.8, 26th July. He was only
son of the late Lieut. E. J. Armstrong,
RN. of Cheshunt, Herts, nephew of the
late Lieut.-Gen. George Andrew Arm-
strong, and grandson of the Rev. William
Archibald Armstrong, of Pengelly Lodge,
whose father, Edmund Armstrong, Esq.
of Fortie Hall, Enfield, and of Percy-
street, London, the well-known Army
Agent, Groom of the Privy Chamber to
George III., was fourth son of Andrew
Armstrong, Esq. Treasurer of the King's
County, by Alphra, his wife, dau. of
Bigoe Henzell, Esq. of Barnagrotty. The
family of Armstrong, in ancient times
settled on the Scottish Border, has been
established in high repute in Ireland
since the commencement of the 17th
century. Its present representatives are
Sir ANPREW ARMSTRONG, Bart, of Gal-
len Priory, and JOHN WARNEFORD
ARMSTRONG, Esq. of Ballycumber, King's
County.

Barlow, Capt. Philip, late of the 22nd
Reg., at Pau, aged 74, 29th July.

Barton, Lucinda, youngest dau. of the late
John Barton, Esq. at Leatherhead, 23rd
July.

Begbie, Thomas, Esq. at Maines, co. Ber-
wick, 5th August.

Blackburn, Mrs. widow of the late James
Blackburn, Esq. of Whitby, co. York,
aged 51, 3rd August.

Blood, Lieut.-Col. late of the 68th Light
% Infantry, at Bath, 22nd July.

Borthwick, William Thomas, Esq. Surgeon,
of Chepstow, aged 29, llth August.

Boynton, Mrs. Lydia, at Kensington, aged
85, 9th August.

Boys, The Rev. Henry, Assistant Chaplain,
E. I. C, S. Bengal, youngest son of the
late John Boys, formerly of Ashcombe, at
Simla, aged 37, 20th May.

Braddon, Louisa Charlotte, youngest dau.
of William Braddon, Esq, of Lifton-park,
Devon, 8th July.

Braine, Joanna, wife of George Thomas
Braine, Esq. late of Canton, and dau.
of Adam W. Elmslie, Esq. in Great
Cumberland-place, Hyde-park, 29th July.

Brockman, The Rev. William, of Beach-
borough, Kent, a Magistrate for that
county, aged 58, 3rd August. The old
Kentish family of Brockman appears on
record so early as the time of Richard II.
when a grant, enrolled among the patents
in the Tower, was made to John Brock-
man, of the Manor of Pirrie, extending
to Old Romney, in the co. of Kent. The
male line terminated in 1767, at the de-
cease of James Brockman, Esq. of Beach-
borough, who devised his estates to his
cousin, The Rev. Ralph Drake. That
gentleman adopted the surname of the
testator and died in 1781, leaving a son
and successor, James Drake Brockman,
Esq. of Beachborough, High Sheriff of
Kent in 1791. He married Caiherine-
Elizabeth, dau. of the Rev. William
Tatton, D.D. and dying in 1832, was
succeeded by his then elder and surviving
son. the Rev. William Brockman, whose
decease we record.

Broughton, Sir John Delves, Bart. 9th Au-
gust. Sir John, the seventh Baronet of
Broughton, whose death occurred at Bank
Farm, Kingston-upon-Thames, possessed
considerable estates in the counties of
Stafford, Chester, and Lincoln. He en-
tered the army at the age of sixteen, in
1785, and became a full General in 18.J7.
He was the eldest son of the Rev. Sir

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

2.91

Thomas Broughton, sixth Baronet o
Broughton, and grandson of Sir Brian
Broughton, fifth Baronet, who assume
the surname of Delves, in compliance with
the will of his maternal grandfather, Si
Thomas Delves, Bart, of Doddington. Pa
ternally, the deceased Baronet derive
from Richard deVernon, Lord of Brough
ton, fourth son of Hugo de Vernon, Baron
of Shipbrook at the time of the Conquest
His ancestors in the female line, the
Delves', were of consideration for centu
ries in the counties of Stafford and Ches
ter, and derived in direct descent from
Sir Henry Delves, of Delves Hall, brothe
and heir of Sir John Delves, who, in the
20th of Edward III. was one of the four
Esquires who attended James, Lord Aud
ley, K.G., in the French wars of the Black
Prince, and who, for their services at the
Battle of Poictiers, were rewarded with
an annuity of five hundred marks among
them, and were allowed an addition to
their arms bearing a similitude to their
Captain, Lord Audley's coat. The Ba-
ronet whose decease we are recording was
born in 1769, and married, in 1792, Eliza-
beth, sister of Sir John Egerton, Bart, of
Oulton-park, co. Chester, but leaves no
issue. His successor to the title is his
brother, the present Rev. Sir Henry
Delves Broughton, eighth Baronet, who
is married, and has several children.
Browne, Thomas Braine, Esq. at Pimlico,

aged 35, 7th August.

Butler. Thomas Delves, Esq. son of Thomas

Butler, Esq. of Brighton, at Finchley,

23rd July.

Campbell, Colin, Esq. late of London and

Rotterdam, at Edinburgh, aged 69, 29th

July.

Carter, Noel Norton, Esq. at York, 28th

July.

Charlton, Henry, Lieutenant in Her Ma-
jesty's 7th Royal Fusiliers, youngest son
of W. J. Charlton, late of Rocheste^
Esq. at Southampton, aged 21, 9th Au-
gust.

Christie, Charles Forbes, Esq. Captain,
Bombay Army, at the Isle of Wight,
aged 30, 7th August.

Christie, Sir Archibald, K.C.H. 10th Au-
gust. This gallant officer, Colonel of the
1st Royal Veteran Battalion, and Deputy
Governor of Stirling Castle, was born in
1774, the eldest son of the late James
Christie, Esq. of Riddry, co. Lanark, by
Lucy, his wife, daughter of John Beard-
esley, Esq. of Glascot, co. Warwick. At
the age of nineteen he entered the army,
by purchase, as Ensign in the Royal
Highlanders, and served in Flanders, ami
Holland, where he was wounded. In 1811 j
he received (he appointment of Comman-
dant-General of Army Hospitals; from

1821 to 1831 acted as Commandant ot
Chatham ; and in the latter year was
made Deputy-Governor of Stirling Castle.
The family from which the deceased gen-
tleman descended — the Christies of Sten-
ton, co. Haddington — was one of consi-
derable respectability in East Lothian.
Sir Archibald's immediate progenitor,
James Christie, Esq. of Stenton, married
Jane, daughter of James Foulis, Esq. of
Ratho, and was grandfather of Archibald
Christie, Esq. of Ratho, who wedded
Anne, daughter of Sir Alexander Gordon,
Bart, of Lesmore, and had a son, the late
James Christie, Esq. of Riddry. Sir
Archibald himself married Jane, only
child of George Dwyer, Esq. third son of
John Dwyer, Esq. of Singland, co. Lime-
rick ; and has left a son, Frederick Gor-
don, and other issue.
Clark, George, Esq. at Sion-place, Isle-

worth. 26th July.
Clarke, Thomas, Esq. of Burton Crescent,

aged 68, llth August.

Clark, Arthur, Esq. M.D. youngest son of
the late John Clark, Esq. formerly of
Poole, co. Dorset, in Stanhope-street,
Regent's-park, three days after his arrival
from the United States, 26th July,
ochrane, Sarah, wife of J. G. Cochrane,
Esq. at St. James's-square, 20th August.
Cockburn, General Sir George. This vete-
ran soldier and politician died on the
18th Aug. at his seat, Shanganagh Castle,
near Bray, Ireland. He was eldest son
of George Cockburn, Esq. of Dublin, by
Anne, his wife, eldest dau. of Charles
Caldwell, Ksq. and sister of the late gal-
lant Admiral Sir Benjamin Caldwell,
G.C.B. His family claimed to be a scion
of the ancient Scottish house of Cockburn,
of Cockburn and Ryslaw, now represented
by Sir William S. R. Cockburn. General
Cockburn, who had been for a long period
on the retired list of the army, was well
known for his attachment to Cobbett, and
always advocated the principles of reform.
The passing of the Reform Bill he com-
memorated by a column erected near his
residence, but this he afterwards swept
a way, for the Whigs went too slow for
him, and he gave in his adhesion to Con-
servatism and Sir Robert Peel. He died
at the age of 82. His military career
dated from the year 1781, when he enter-
ed the Army as Ensign in the 1st Reg. of
Foot Guards. At the famous biege of
Gibraltar, he acted as A id- de- Camp to
General Elliott; and in 1785, he pur-
chased the Captain-Lieutenancy of the
65th Regiment, then quartered in Dublin,
and commanded by Lord Harrington,
who was thenceforward a kind friend to
him. Shortly after lie embarked with
the regiment for Canada; but, IK fore.

292

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

sailing, nn order to leave a Captain at
home to recruit, fell on Mr. Cockburn as
junior. Passing through the subordinate
gradations, he became, in 1793, Lieut.-
Colonel, by purchase, of the 92nd Reg.
and attained the rank of Major-General
in 1806, when he was placed on the Staff
in England. In 1810, he joined Sir J.
Stewart's Army in Sicily, and was present

Digby, Loftus, youngest son of the late
Rev. John Digby, on his passage from
Jamaica, aged 18.

Douglas, Admiral John Erskine. at Spar-
rows, near Watford, aged 89, 25th July.

)u Bois, Edward, only son of Mr. Du
Bois, of the Middle Temple, aged 13,
IGth August.

when Murat landed 3,000 men near Ste-
phano. Being made Lieutenant-General
in 181 1 , he returned home, mid was never
employed afterwards, although he made
many applications. Sir George was born
21st Feb. 1764, and married, 8th March,
17(JO, his cousin Eli/a, eldest daughter of
Fhineas Riall, Esq. of Clonmell, by whom
re had two sons, George and Phineas-
Charles, and four daughters, the eldest of
whom, Catherine, married, in 1817, Capt.
Hamilton, R.N

Cohen Grace, relict of the late Judah Cohen,
Esq. of Nottingham-place, 15th August.
Coley, Charles, Esq. of Tufl'nell.place, Up-
per Holloway, aged 74, 8th August.
Cooke, Josiah J. Esq. late of the Army
Victualling Department, at Camberwell,
31st July,
Cooke, Sarah, relict of the late Robert

Cooke, Esq. at Clapham, 14th August.
Conolly, Matilda, third daughter of the late
Valentine Conolly, Esq. of Portland-
place, 16th August.
Combe, Dr. Andrew, one of the Physicians
in Ordinary, in Scotland, to the Queen,
at Edinburgh, aged 40. 9th August.
Coulson, Mrs. George, at Cottingham Castle

co. York, aged (>7, 4th August.
Coventry, Twisleton Fiennes Arthur, seconi
son of Thomas William Coventry, ^raml
son of George William, sixth Earl o
Coventry, in his 18th year, 1st August.
Craigie, Diana, of 12, Finsbury-square, only
surviving daughter of the late Caplah
Craigie, at Chalk, near Gravesend, 3rc
August.
Crozier, Mrs. K. B. at Westliill, Norton

Isle of Wight, 17th August.
Cuerton, Richard, Esq. at Jersey, 9th Aug
Cumberland, George, son of Sydney Cum
berland,and grandson of George Cumber
land,, Esq of Bristol, at Guildford, in hi
31st year, 18th July.
Dand, The Rev. Michael, M.A. Hector o
Clifton, Westmoreland, aged 39, 19tl
July.

Deare, Philip Charles, Second Lieutenan
in Her Majesty's 21st Fusiliers, only SOT
of the late Philip Deare, (>!)th Regimen
Bengal Native Infantry, at Cawnpore. o
acute dy sen U'iv, a;;ed IK, 2nd June.
Dickson, George William, son of Gcorg'
Frederick Dickson, Esq. of llanove
I'erraee, Regent's Park, at Monk1 Video
May.

Dunsandle, James, Lord. His Lordship,
•who died recently at his seat, Dunsandle,
co. Galwuy, represented for many years
his native county in Parliament, and was
created a Peer of Ireland 6tb June, 1845-
He possessed a valuable landed property
in the West of Ireland, and was highly
esteemed as a worthy country gentleman,
and a kind and excellent landlord. His
father, the late Right Hon. Denis Daly,
of Dunsandle, Muster-Master-General of
Ireland, sat for a lengthened period in the
Irish Parliament, in which he became
eminently distinguished for his eloquence
and ability ; he was a leading statesman
of those days so prolific in illustrious
names •, and is described by Grattan as
" one of the best and brightest characters
Ireland ever produced." His wife was
only dau. and heiress of Robert, Earl of
Farnham, and, through that lady, Lord
Dunsandle derived in direct descent from
the Plantagenetsas well as from the Kings
of Scotland and Robert Bruce. The de-
ceased Peer married, in 1808, Maria,
dau. and coheir of the late Rijiht Hon.
Sir Edward Skeilington Smyth, Bart, and
has left two daughters and five sons, the
eldest of whom, Denis, succeeds as second
Lord Dunsandle. The Right Rev. Robert
Daly, the eloquent Bishop of Cashel, is
only brother of the late Lord.
Eaton H iehard Jefferson, Esq. of Stethworth
Park, Cambridgeshire, 27th July. Capt.
Eaton formerly represented the county of
Cambridge in Parliament, and acted
with the Conservative party. His father,
Richard Eaton, Esq. was a banker at
Newmarket, and possessed a good estate
near that town. Capt. Eaton married,
2Cth Nov. 1839, Charlotte Elizabeth,
second daughter of Henry John Conyers,
Esq. of Copped Hall, Essex, and has left
issue.

Elliott, John Alexander, Esq. of Cowper
House, Old Brompton, aged 24, 12th
August.
Ellis, Mrs. relict of Owen Ellis, Esq. at

Haih, '22nd July.
Ellis, Mnry, widow of Francis Ellis, Esq. at

Westbourne terrace. 2nd August.
Kgerton, Mrs. at Chelsea, a^ed (if), ;?rd
August. This distinguished actress, of
tlie Kemble school ami period, was the
daughter of the Ret. Peter Fisher, Heetor
of Torrington in Devonshire. She was
born there in 1 7S2. Her introduction to

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

293

the stage took place at the Bath Theatre,! \ Eurl Frrtescue, by Hester, his wife, third

in 1803, where the late Mr. Egerton,
afterwards her husband, was then an actor
also. In 1810 she appeared at Covent
Garden Theatre, as Juliet, one year after
the retirement of Mis. Siddons. The
splendid debut, however, of Miss O'Neill,
soon deprived Mrs. Egerton of further
hope of maintaining her position in the
tragic drama. She then devoted herself
to melodrama, and for many years en-
joyed in that department an eminent
reputation. Her performance ofJRavina, \
in "The Miller and his Men," and her!
representation of Scott's masculine hero-
ines, Helen Macgregor, MadgeWildfire,

daughter of the late Right Hon. George
Grenville. Lady Eleanor was the only
daughter who remained unmarried, and
she continued till her death to reside with
her venerable parent, the Countess Dow-
ager. Her elder brothers the? present
EaH Fortescue ; and, of her sisters, the
eldest is the Dowager Lady King ; the
second, the wife of the Hon. Newton Fel-
lowes ; the third is married to George Wil -
braham, Esq. late M.P. lor Cheshire ; the
fourth, wife of Sir James Hamlyn Wil-
liams, Bart ; and the youngest, of Lord
Courtenay. At the period oi her decease.
Lady Eleanor was in her fiftieth year.

and MegMerrities, were regarded as mas- ; Foster, William Penn, of Stoke Newington,
ter-pieces of histrionic art. At Sadler's 26th July,

Wells, in a drama called " Joan of Arc." Fowler, Frederick, Esq. late of Windsor, at
she acted the part of the Puctlle so Burton Crescent, 17th August,
effectively, that the play ran a whole Franklin, Robert Moss, son of the late Sir
season. She subsequently was in great William Franklin, and Lieutenant in the
vogue at the Surrey and Olympic theatres, 40th Regiment Bengal Cavalry, at Khy-
and, returning again for a short time to ook Physo, Arrucan, in his 29th year,
the superior stage, she played Jane de\ 9th May.

Montford, in Joanna Baillie's tragedy of Fullerton, George Alexander, Esq. of Tor-
" De Montford," when it was revived for(' kington Manor, co. Gloucester, and of
Her last course of per-

Edmund Kean.

formances was at the Victoria Theatre, in|
1832, under the lesseeship of her husband
and Mr. Abbott: her chief part there
was that of Queen Elizabeth, in Sheridan
Knowles's play of "The Beggar of Beth
nal Green." After this, she retired from
the stage. Of unblemished fame, and of
much mental acquirements, this excellent
lady enjoyed the friendship and esteem
of a large and respectable circle of ac-
quaintance. Her death removes ano her
relic of the departed greatness of the
English stage.

Eyton, Jane, wife of John Wynne Eyton,
Esq. of Leeswood, co. Flint, and daughter
of Robert Lloyd, Esq. of Swan Hill. co.
Salop, at Leeswood, near Mold, co. Flint.
2nd August.

Fazakerley, The Hon. Mrs. Eleanor, at
Burwood, Surrey, 26th July. This lady,
fifth dau. of Matthew, late Lord Rokeby,
married, in May, 1822, John Nicholas
Fazakerley, Esq. of Stoodley, Devon,
M.P. Her sister Jane is the wife of the
Right Hon. Henry Goulburn, M.P.

Fearon, The Rev. Devey Fearon, Rector of
Ore, Sussex, 28th July.

Fenn, Thomas, Esq. of Upper Grosvenor
street, aged 78, 4th August.

Ferard, Catherine, dau. of the late John
Ferard, Esq. of Inglefield Green, 16th
August.

Forrester, Eliza, wife of Joseph James
Esq. at Oport j, 3rd August, and the infant
dau. of the same on the 8th.

Fortescue, Lady Eleanor, 12th August Her
Ladyship was fifth dau. of Hugh, first

Ballintoy, co Antrim, in the 7'2nd year
of his age, 16th Ang. Mr. Fulltrton was
son and heir of Dawson Downing, Esq.
of Rowesgift, co. Londonderry, and great
grandson of Colonel Admiral Downing,
a distinguished adherent of King William
III. in the Irish War. The surname of
Fullerton he assumed on inheriting a
considerable property from his maternal
granduncle, Alexander Fullerton, Esq. of
Ballintoy. The family of Downing is
very ancient, and was settled temp. Henry
VIII. in the county of Fssex. To the
munificence and public spirit of one of
its descendants. Sir George Downing,
Bart, of East Harley, the University of
Cambridge owes the foundation of Down-
ing Colllege. The gentleman whose de-
cease we record has left several chil-
dren : Frances, his eldest daughter, is the
wife of Sir Andrew Armstrong, Bart. M.P.
and Alexander George, his eldest son, is
married to Lady Georgina Leveson Guwer,
daughter of the late Earl Granville — a
lady well known in the literary world by
her popular novels, *' Ellen Middleton,"
and " Grantley Manor."

Furber, William, Esq. of Upper Gower
Street, aged 69, 12th Aug.

Gardiner, Hester, relict of Charles Gardiner,
Esq. late of Lockeys, Walwyn, Herts,
28th July.

Garnck, Christopher Philip, Esq. of Rich-
mond, Surrey, and Cleeve, co. Somerset,
J.P. aged 68, 9th Aug.

Girault, Madame, wife of M. Theodore
Girault, and only daughter of James D.
Fordyce, 26th July.

294

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Goold, Martha, wife of Thomas Goold, Esq.

at Sussex House, Slough, 5th Aug.
Griffith, the Right Rev. Dr. V.A.L.D.

aged 56, 12th Aug. Thir Right Rev.

Prelate, Titular Bishop
and Vicar Apostolic of

of
the

Olena,
London

District, was the first Catholic Bishop
of the London District appointed
since the passing of the Emancipation
Act ; and though his administration lasted
through a time of calm and tranquillity,
it was marked by distinguished zeal, en-
ergy, and piety. During the period
many new Catholic 'houses of worship
have been built, and several new Catholic
benevolent institutions established. Pre-
viously to his selection as Vicar Apostolic
of the London District in 1836, he acted
for three years as coadjutor to the late
Bishop Bramston. At an earlier period
he had filled the President's chair at St.
Edmund's College. Dr. Griffiths was,
we believe, an Irishman ; and some years
ago held high office in the famous College
of Majnooth.

Grissell, Ann, wife of Thomas De la Garde
Grissell, Esq. and sister to the late Henry
Peto, Esq. at Stockwell-common, Surrey,
28th July.

Halkett, Sir John, Bart, of Pittirrane, co.
Fife, 4th Aug. Sir John Halkett, the
seventh Baronet of Pitfirrane, died at
Southampton, aged 42. He entered the
navy in 1825, obtained his commission in
J827, and was appointed Commander in
1837. The Halkets of Pitfirrane rank
amongst the most ancient houses in North
Britain, and can show an unbroken line
of descent from David de Halkett, living
in the time of King David Bruce. The
Baronetcy dates from the year 1697. Sir
Peter Halkett, second Baronet, Lieut.
Col. of Lee's Regiment at the Battle of
Gladsmuir in 1745, was taken prisoner
by the Chevalier's troops, but dismissed
on his parole; and was one of the five
officers who refused in the following year

Cumberland's command and threat of
forfeiting their commissions. Their reply,
" That his Royal Highness was master of
their commissions, but not of their ho-
nour," was approved by Government ;
and Sir Peter, in 1754, embarked for
America, in command of the 44th Regt.
He fell, with his youngest son James, in
Gener.il Braddock's defeat by the Indians.
The late Sir John Halkett was son oet
Admiral Sir Peter Halkett, Bart. G.C.H.
and grandson of Sir John Wedderburr
Halkett, Bart, of Pitfirrane, who was
nephew of the gallant Sir Peter Halkett
before mentioned. He leaves by Ameliii
Hood, his wife, daughter of Colonel Con
way. three sons and one daughter; flu

eldest of the former being the present Sir
Peter Arthur Halkett, eighth Baronet of
Pitfirrane, born in 1834.

Harrison, Richard, infant son of Francis
Harrison, Esq. of Doughty Street, and of
Maines Hall, co. Lancaster, 12th Aug.

Harrison, Frederick, third son of the late
John Harrison, Esq. of Welbeck street,
at 19, Osnaburgh street, Regent's park,
aged 29, 2nd Aug.

Hasselden, Caroline, wife of William Has-

selden, Esq.
17th Aug,

of Whitelands, Chelsea,

Hawes, Mrs. Benjamin, at Hanwell, aged
78, 14th Aug.

Hay\vard, Mary, relict of Joseph Hayward,
Esq. at Lyme Regis, 22nd July.

Head, Frances Anne, youngest daughter of
the late James Roper Head, Esq. of
Hermitage, co. Kent, 8th Aug.

Head, Mrs. James, widow of the late Capt.
James Head, of the Hon. East India
Company's Service, and daughter of the
late Hon. Robert Lindsay, of Balcarres,
Fifeshire, at Hereford, 31st July.

Heitland, William Emerton, Captain in the
Royal Artillery, and eldest son of the
late Major Heitland, of the East India
Company's Service, whilst on his passage
to Canada in Her Majesty's troop ship
Apollo, in the 35th year of his age, 30th
June.

Hope, Mr. John George, at Hereford road,
Westbourne Grove, aged 42, 8th Augr.

Hoppe, Joseph, Esq. of Larkfield, Kent,
aged 71, 31st Aug.

Houblon, Anne, wife of John Archer
Houblon, Esq. of Hallingbury Place,
Essex, 8th Aug. This Lady was dau. of
Rear Admiral Deans Dundas, of Barton
Court, Berks, and granddaughter, mater-
nally, of the late Lord Amesbury. She
was married in 1829 but has left no issue.

Hubbard, John, Esq. at Forest House,
Leyton, Essex, aged 72, 16th Aug.

Hughes, the Rev. Thomas Smart, at Edge-
ware Rectory, 1 1th Aug.

to rejoin their regiments on the Duke of Jackson, Mary, second daughter of the late

Thomas Jackson, Esq. at Brighton, llth
Aug.

Jebb, Eliza, second daughter of R. G. Jebb,
Esq. at Lyth, near Ellesmere, aged 9,
30th July.

Jeffries, Joseph, Esq. Major in the 2nd
Somerset Militia, and a magistrate for the
county of Sussex aud borough of Hastings,
at St. Leonard's-on-Sea, aged 70, 29th
July.

Jones, Mrs. John, of Brighton, aged 78,
13th Aug.

Jones, Ricarda, relict of Lieut.-Col. Love
Parry Jones, third son of John Jones,
Esq. of Llwynon, North Wales, aged 75,
loth Aug. Mrs. Jones was sister of the
late Sir Charles Wcthcrall, Knt. the

ANNOTATED OBITUARY*

295

. eminent lawyer. Her only child, Rachel
Corbet, predeceased her.

Kearsley, Joseph, Esq. M. D. formerly De-
puty Inspector of the Ordnance Medical
Department, at Bath, aged 82, 9th Aug.

Kent, Mrs. Benjamin, late of Radley Hall,
Berks, 9th Aug.

King, Anne Frances, wife of James King,
Esq. of Foley Place, 6th Aug.

Knight, Frances, relict of Thomas Andrew
Knight, Esq. at Downtin Castle, Here-
fordshire, 28th July.

Knight, Lieut.-Colonel Edward, half-pay,
formerly of the 15th Hussars, and later
of the Portuguese service, in which he
commanded a regiment of Cavalry at the
battle of Vittoria, in Dublin, 23rd July.

Lacy, Henry Charles, only surviving son of
Henry Charles Lacy, Esq. M.P. of Bed-
ford-square, and Kenyon House, co. Lan-
caster.

Langford, Ann, relict of the late Robert
Langford, Esq. formerly of the Grange.
Ellesmere, Salop, at Shenley.hill, 7th Aug.

Langhorne, John, Esq. formerly of Berwick
on Tweed, aged 70, 5th Aug.

Lewis, James, Esq. at Park street, aged
70, 18th Aug.

Linley, Violet Olivia Rose, youngest dau.
of George Linley, Esq. and granddau. of
the late distinguished Orientalist, Dr.
John Borthwick Gilchrist, at 5, Alpha-
place, St. John's-wood, of decline, in
her llth year, 3rd Aug. She was a child
of great beauty and promise, whose pa-
tience and sweetness of disposition en-
deared her to all who knew her.

Littlehales, Bendal Robert, Vice-Admiral,
R.N. at Compton Bishop, co. Somerset,
at the advanced age of eighty-two, 12th
Aug. His naval career commenced so
far back as 1778, when, as Midshipman
on board the Vigilant, he fought in the
engagement off Brest, between Admiral
Keppel and the French Admiral D'Orvil-
liers. In the following year he was re-
moved to the Royal Oak, and participated
in the action off Grenada. In 1790, he
obtained his commission, as Lieutenant ;
and in 1794 assisted in the Rose at the
storming of Fort Louis, Martinique. He
subsequently gained great distinction in
the West Indies, particularly by his gal-
lant action, in the Beaulieu, with a French
store-ship of eighteen guns, which he
boarded immediately under the batteries
Guadaloupe. Shortly after, he was given
the command of the Amazon ; and in
1797 fought a brilliant engagement with
the Droits de L'homme, a ship of eighty
guns. In 1800 he was promoted to the
rank of Captain j and in 1803 took part
with his ship, the Centaur, in the capture
of St. Lucia. In 1830 he became a flag
o fliccr, and in 1840 was promoted to the

rank of Vice- Admiral. Admiral Little-
hales was next brother of the late Sir Ed-
ward Littlehales Baker, Bart, and second
son of Baker John Littlehales, Esq. of
Moulsey, co. Surrey, by Maria, his wife,
daughter and sole heir of Bendal Martin,
Esq. He was married to Mary Anne,
daughter of Thomas Cleather, Esq. of
Plymouth.

Lloyd, Lieut. William, R.N. of Montreal
and Sherbrooke, Canada East, at Mon-
treal, 12th July.

Loveless, George Proctor, eldest son of
George Loveless, Esq. at Hammersmith,
29th July.

Lowless, Maria Anne, wife of William
Lowless, Esq. of Peckham, 10th Aug.

Maclead, Sir Henry George, Knt. K.H. a
Colonel in the Army, at Bishopsgate,
near Windsor, 20th Aug. His military
services were highly distinguished. For
his conduct at the seige of Dantzic, he
received the Order of St. Waldimir, and
in the glorious conflict of Waterloo, he
had the honour of taking part, atone time
he was Lieutenant Governor of St. Kibbs,
became subsequently Lieut. Governor
of Trinidad, and was appointed eventually
Governor and Commander in Chief of
that Island. Sir Henry married in 1843,
Henrietta, dau. of the late Rev. Sir John
Robinson, Bart, of Rokeby Hall, co.
Louth.

Martin, Sir George, G.C.B. and G.C.M.G.,
28th July. This gallant officer died at
his residence in Berkeley- square, aged
82. At the period of his decease he was
Admiral of the Fleet, and Vice-Admiral
of the United Kingdom. Sir George
Martin was present, as Midshipman of
the Sitffblfc, in Rodney's actions in the
West Indies, in 1780 ; he commanded
the Irresistible, of 74 guns, at the defeat
of the Spanish fleet off Cape St. Vincent,
in 1797. In 1800, he had under his
orders the force employed in the block-
ade of Malta, which he conducted wjth
the greatest perseverance and success ;
and, in the following year, accompanied
the Expedition to Egypt. In 1805,
Lieutenant Martin participated in Sir
Robert Calder's action with Villeneuve ;
and, having become a flag officer, in 1807,
commanded the naval force employed on
the coast of Sicily. At the blockade of
Toulon, in 1809, he rendered essential
service to the Commander-in-Chief, Lord
Collingwood ; the following year he was
promoted to the rank of Vice-Admiral ;
and, during the latter part of the Penin-
sular War. commanded the naval force
employed at Lisbon. In 1814, Admiral
Martin received the honour of knight-
hood ; the following year was made a
K.C.B. •, and in 1821 obtained the Grand

296

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Cross. Besides these distinctions, Sir
George had a medal for his services at
the battle of St. Vincent, and in 1811 re-
ceived the Grand Cross of the Order of
St. Januarius. Sir George Martin, who
was son of the late Captain William Mar-
tin, R.N. by Arabella, his wife, dau. of
Sir William Rowley, of Tendring Hall,
married first in 1804, Harriett, sister of
Admiral Bentinck ; and second, in 1815,
Arabella, dau. of William Locke, Esq. of
Nor bury Park, Surrey.

Maurice, Isaac, Esq. late of Wisborough,
Sussex, Surgeon, at Clapham Road, 6th
Aug.

Meakins, Isaac, Esq. late of Hornchurch,
Essex, aged 72, 30th July.

Medlycott, the Dowager Lady, at Melborne
Port, co. Somerset, aged 76, 31st July.
Her ladyship was only dau. of William
Tugwell, Esq. of Bradford. Wilts. Her
marriage to the late Sir William Coles
Medlycott, Bt. of Ven House, co. Somer-
set, took place on the 28th Jan., 1796.

Merewether, John, Esq., aged 81, 21st
July.

Mickley, Thomas, Esq. Surgeon, at Saffron
Walden, aged 38, 24th July.

Moore, John, Esq. Lincoln's Inn. Barrister-
at-Law, at Brighton, aged 70, 29th July.

Moore, Charles Edward, Esq. of the Upper
House, Shelsley Beauchamp, co. Wor-
cester, 2nd Aug.

Morris, Mary, the wife of John Morris, Esq
at Pillay Cardoo, Manantoddy, Madras
28th April.

Munt. Mary, wife of Matthew Munt, Esq.
at Beaumont, Cheshunt, 31st July.

Musgrave, the Hon. Mrs., relict of the late
Christopher Musgrave, Esq. 8th Aug.

Newnham, Mrs. John Lewis, late of New-
timber place, Sussex, 23rd July.

Offley, William, Esq. at Tonbridge Wells,
aged 71, 9th Aug.

Oliveira, Mrs. Benjamin, at Upper Hyde
Park Street, 25th July.

Oliver, Lionel, Esq. at Wimbledon, aged 84,
30th July.

Pardoe, Miss, of Kidderminster, aged 74,
4th Aug.

Parker, Margaret, only surviving dau. of
James Parker, Esq. at Dalston, 18th Aug.

Paul, the Rev. Samuel Woodfield, B.D.
Vicar of Finedon, co. Northampton, at

Peters, Thomas, Esq. late of Albion street,
Hyde-park, and eldest son of Thomas
Peters, Esq. of Kilburn, in his S9th year,
23rd July.

Plumley, Sarah, relict of WTilliam Plumiey,
Esq. at Shenton Mallet, co. Somerset,
26th July.

Ponsford, Mrs. Elizabeth, wife of Lionel T.
Ponsford,Esq. of Porchester-terrace, Bays-
water, only surviving child of the late
Thomas Lewis, Esq. of that place, mid
Duke-street, Manchester-square, aged 30,
4th Aug.

Poyntz, Frances Lydia, relict of the late
Admiral Poyntz 9th Aug.

Prevost, Maria Fanny. 2nd dau. of Admiral
Prevost. 16th Aug.

Rabinel, John Henry, Esq. of the Ceylon

Civil Service,
May.

at Point de Galle, 9th

Rashleigh, Sir John Colman, Bt. aged 74,
4th Aug. This lamented gentleman was
the eldest son of the late John Rashleigh,
Esq. of Penquite, Cornwall, first Com-
missioner of Greenwich Hospital, by Ca-
therine, his wife, dau. and coheir of
William Battle, M.D. of Court Gardens,
Bucks, and grandson of Jonathan Rash-
leigh, Esq. of Menabilly, M.P. forFowey
— the representative of the Cornish branch
of the Rashleighs, of Rashleigh in Devon.
The deceased baronet took, for many
years an active part in politics, and was
long distinguished for his unflinching ad-
vocacy of Reform. He received his pa-
tent of baronetcy frrom Lord Grey's
Government, in 1831. Sir John married
first, 1808, Harriet, second daughter of
Robert Williams, Esq. of Bridehead. in
Dorsetshire, and secondly, in 1833, Mar-
tha, youngest daughter of the late John
Gould, M.D., by the former of whom he
has left, with two daughters, one son, the
present Sir John Colman Rashleigh, Bt.
of Prideaux, born in 1819, and marrier,
in 1845, to Mary Anne, only daughter of
Nicholas Kendall, Esq. of Pelyn. In the
recently published part of Mr. Burke's
" History of the Royal Families of En-
gland" appears the Royal descent of the
Rashleighs, by which it is shown that the
late Sir John Colman Rashleigh, Bart,
was 17th iu direct descent from EDWARD
I., King of England

Raymond, Mary Sophia, eldest daughter of

Charing Cross Hospital, of apoplexy,

aged 69, 1st Aug. James Raymond, Esq. Epping House,

Pearson, the Rev. Arthur Hugh, late rec- j Little Berkhampstead, 27th July.

tor of Norton-in-Hailes, Shropshire, at. Rider, Thomas, Esq. of Boughton Place,

Bath, 3 1st July. Kent, aged 82, 6th Aug.

Peck, the Rev. Edward Martin, rector of Roberts, Elliot Robert, eldest son of the

Wyton, co. Huntingdon, &c. aged 67, late Colonel Roger Elliot Roberts, for-

9th Aug. merly of Upper Grosvenor street, at 40,

Pell, Anne, relict of William Pell, Esq. at Park-street, Grosvenor-square, 4th Aug.

Reading, 23rd July. iRobley, Henry Robson, Esq. of Clarendon

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

297

place, St. John's Wood, aged 73, 6th
Aug.

Roffey, Richard, Esq.of Brookhurst Lodge,
Hants, and Oxney Court, Kent, aged 53
29th July.

Rohrs, C. W. R., Esq. at Clapton, aged 75,
24th July.

Ross, Alice, only daughter of the Earl of
Ross, 1st Aug.

Rougemont, Francis Frederick, Esq. at
Upper Harley Street, 26th July.

Russell, Henshaw, Esq. of Dover, J.P. at
Brussels, aged 59, 8th Aug.

Russell, Rev .Whitworth. This gentlemen
was the fourth son of the late Sir Henry
Russell, Bart. Chief Justice of Bengal.
Mr. Russell, who was in holy Orders,
was bora on the 17th September, 1795 ;
he marrie4, the 6th April, J824, Frances,
dau. of Vice Admiral Carpenter, by whom
he leaves two sons and a daughter. Mr.
Russell held the appointment of Inspector
of Prisons for more than seventeen years,
having been nominated to it by the
Duke of Wellington. He was a man
of great humanity, and took much interest
in the welfare of criminals, particularly
in the juvenile portion of them. His
death has occurred under circumstances
of the most melancholy nature. While
visiting Milbank Prison, pursuant to the
duties of his office, and while labouring
under a fit of derangement, he committed
suicide, by shooting himself in the Board-
room of the gaol. A Coroner's inquest
has since brought in a verdict to that ^effect.
The Rev. Mr. Russell's eldest brother
is the present Sir Henry Russell, Bart, of
Swallowfield Place, Berks ; his second
brother is Charles Russell, Esq. Chairman
of the Great Western Railway Company,
who lost his seat in Parliament for Read-
ing at the late contested election there.

Satterley, Mrs. widow of the late R. Sat-
terley, M. D., and eldest daughter of the
late T. Assheton Smith, Esq. 4th Aug.

Saville, George, Esq. of White-hall, Col-
chester, aged 66, 29th July.

Silva, Charlotte Amelia, eldest dau. of John
J. Silva, Esq. of Regent-Square, aged 30,
14th July.

Simonds, Mr. Richard, of Wilmington
Square, aged 63, 14th Aug.

Smethurst, Mrs. Charlotte, Oxford Square,
aged 67, 16th Aug.

Smith, Jane Anne, eldest dau. of Thomas
Smith. Esq. of Spalding, 8th Aug.

Smith, Katherine, wife of Alfred Smith,
Esq. at Earl's Colne, Essex, 5th Aug.

Sperling, Anna Margaretta, wife of Henry
G. W. Sperling, Esq. at Highbury Hill,
24th July.

Spittal, Francis, Esq. of H. M. Customs, at
Pound Place Farm, Sedcup, Foot's Cray,
Kent, 4th Aug.

Stephens, John, Esq. at Caversham Rise,
Oxon, aged 62, 12th Aug.

Stewart, Capt. Allan, at Yarmouth, late of
the 3rd Buffs, representative of the family
of the Stewarts of Appin, in Argyleshire,
6th Aug.

Stone, Anne, widow of the lateWm. Stone,
Esq. of Macclesfield, aged 75, 24th July.

Summerfield, David, Esq. of Warwick, at
Wey mouth street, aged 33, 2nd Aug.

Synnot, the infant dau. of Robt. Synnot,
Esq. M.D. of Cadogan.place, 6th Aug.

Tanner, Thomas, Esq. of Windsor Terrace,
Plymouth, late of the Army Medical
Board, aged 64, 12th Aug.

Tench, Anna Maria, relict of the late Lieut. -
Gen. Watkin Tench, at her residence,
Devonport. aged 81, 1st Aug.

Tice, Mary, wife of William Tice, Esq. of
Sopley, aged 45, llth Aug..

Todd. Lady D'Arcy, in Montague-street,
Portman Square, aged 69, 10th Aug.

Toogood, Catherine Mary, widow of the late
James Toogood, Esq. at Sherborde, Dor-
set, 12th Aug.

Tottenham, Lieut. Wm. R. N. fifth son of
the Bishop of Clogher, 14th Aug.

Tower, the Rev.Wm. at How Hatch, South
Weald, Essex, 2d Aug. The Rev. gentle-
man was sixth son of the late Christopher
Tower, Esq. of Huutsmcre Park. Bucks,
and Weald Hall, Essex, by Elizabeth, his
wife, only dau. of George Baker, Esq. of
Elemore Hall, co. Durham, and grandson
of Christopher Tower, Esq. M.P. of
Huntsmore Park, Joint Auditor of his
Majesty's Revenue, by Jane, his second
wife, dau. and co-heir of George Tash,
Esq. of Delaford Park. The Rev. Wm.
Tower, was born in 1789, and married in
1825, Maria, dau. and co-heir of Admiral
Sir Eliab Harvey, G.C.B. of Rolls Park,
Essex, by whom he leaves one son and
three daughters.

Walker, Susan, youngest daughter of Mr.
Walker, late of Eaton Socon, co. Beds,
in Switzerland, 31st May.

Wallis, Miss Julia, at Forest Place, Leyton-
stone, 29th July.

Warren, Mrs. Edward, of Burton street,
aged 65, 12th Aug.

Warry, George, Esq. of West Coker House,
Yeovil, 3rd Aug.

Watson, Mary Anne, wife of Thomas Wat-
son,Esq. of Leatherhead, Surrey, 29thJuly

Weatherhead, H. Esq. of Park Road, Hol-
loway, aged 63, ]6th Aug.

Wells, William, Esq. of Redleaf, Penshurst,
aged 80, 1 1 th Aug.

Wetenhall, Lieut.-Colonel, Staff-Officer,
Assistant Adjutant- General, and late of
the 10th Regiment, at Graham 's-town,
Cape of Good Hope, 25th May.

Wheeler, Thomas, Esq. F.L.S. aged 94,
10th Aug.

298

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

White, Mary, second daughter of Mr. Wil-
liam White, of Chorley Wood, Hert
24th July.

Whitshed, Sophia Renira Maria, eldest dau

of Sir James Whitshed, Bart. 16th Aug.

Williams, Elizabeth, relict of W. William*

Esq. at Old Brompton, 30th July.
Willis, Major-General, of the Bomba

Army, aged 64, 15th Aug.
Wilson, Nathan, Esq. K.H. late Colonel c
the 4th Light Dragoons; aged 68, Is
Aug. This gallant officer entered th
British service in 1795, and rose througi
the different grades to that of Colonel ii
1837 ; he served in 1799, with the 4tl
Light Dragoons, in the Mysore, and wa
at the battle of Malarilly, and the siegi
of Seringapatam ; he was wounded at thi
famous battle of Assaye by a grape shot
He wore a medal for Seringapatam, am
was a Knight Companion of the Hano
verian Order. Col. Wilson resided fo
many years past at Boulogne. The Colo
nel met his death in London, in conse
quence of being knocked down by a cab
riolet, near the United Service Club.
Wilson, Richard Fountayne, Esq. at Melton
Yorkshire, formerly M.P. for that county
aged 65, 24th July. Colonel Fountayne
Wilson was probably the richest commoner
in the empire. He possessed very extensive
estates in Yorkshire, and inherited besides
considerable landed property in several
other counties, acquired principally by
the marriage of his father, Richard Wil-
son, Esq. with Elizabeth, daughter and
co-heir of the Very Rev. John Fountayne,
D.D. Dean of York, by Anne, his wife,
only daughter of Charles Montagu, Esq.
of Papplewick. The Melton estate came

to the Fountayncs by the heiress of the
Moncktons of that place. The gentleman
whose decease we are recording was
grandson of Christopher Wilson, D.D.
Bishop of Bristol, and great grandson of
Dr. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London.
He was bornjn June, 1783, and had con-
sequently just completed his sixty- fourth
year. By Sophia his wife, third daughter
of George Osbaldeston, Esq. of Mutton
Bushel, he leaves two surviving sons and
several daughters. Andrew, the elder
son, assumed by Royal licence, in 1826,
the surname and arms of Montagu only,
in pursuance of th e testamentary inj unction
of the Right Hon. Frederick Montagu,
of Papplewick. Mr. Fountayne Wilson
represented for some time the county of
York in Parliament, served as its High
Sheriff in 1807, and was Colonel of the
1st West Yorkshire Regiment of Militia.
Wilson, Arthur Morley, Esq. of Langford
grove, co. Essex, suddenly, in consquence
of .being thrown from a carriage, at the
age of 24, 4th Aug.
Wilson, Emma Anne, wife of Charles Tho-
mas Wilson, Esq. at Oundle, aged 28,
llth Aug.

i^oolley, George Outram, Esq. of Kensing-
ton Gore, aged 78, 10th Aug.
bright, Mrs. Thomas, at Croydon, 27th

July.

Wynne, Mrs. Styan, relict of the late
Richard Owen Wynne, Esq. of the Ben-
gal Civil Service, at Bayswater, 14th Aug.
iVynne, Lieutenant William Charles, of the
Madras Artillery, in the 26th year of his
age, 1st June. This promising young
officer was accidentally drowned in the
Straits of Malacca.

THE PATRICIAN.

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.

!No. XIV. — THE TRIAL OF SPENCER COWPER, BROTHER OF LORD CHAN-
CELLOR COWPER, AND OTHERS, FOR THE MURDER OF MlSS STOUT, A

QUAKER LADY.

THIS singular investigation affords perhaps the only instance on record
of a person taking his trial for murder, and afterwards himself rising to
the judgment seat. Such was the case with the principal party here
accused, Mr. Spencer Cowper, a barrister-at-law, who subsequently be-
came Chief Justice of Chester, and a Judge of the Court of Common Pleas.

As regarded Mr. Cowper and the other defendants the charge was
clearly groundless, yet the whole affair is one of so extraordinary and
romantic a nature that its details, though rather long, cannot but
prove interesting. The trial too presents a curious insight into some of
the manners and customs of the learned fraternity of the bar, who at
that period literally rode the circuit on horseback.

The principal defendant, Mr. Spencer Cowper, was the scion of an
ancient, wealthy and time-honoured family wnich has nourished for ages
in the county of Hertford, and which can now boast of not only having
attained the peerage through its legal eminence, but of having given to
England one of its greatest poets.

William Cowper, a cavalier, the representative of the family in the
reign of Charles I., was created a baronet in 1641. He adhered in-
flexibly to the royal cause in the civil war, and suffered, together with
bis son who died under confinement, a long imprisonment in conse-
quence. He was succeeded by his grandson Sir William Cowper, the
second baronet, and M.P. for Herts, who had two sons, the elder of
whom was William Cowper afterwards Lord Chancellor and Earl
Cowper, and ancestor of the present Earl of that name. The younger
son was Spencer Cowper, the subject of this trial, whose second son,
the Rev, Dr. Cowper, was father of William Cowper the poet. Thus,
had Spencer Cowper perished under this false accusation, the poems of
" The Task " and " John Gilpin " would have remained unsung.

The person whose unfortunate death formed the subject of the en-
quiry was a young Quaker lady of the name of Stout, who resided with
her mother at Hertford, and whose family was of some note and re-
spectability there. Throughout the report of the trial, she is frequently
called Mrs. Stout, but this arises not from her having been ever mar-

VOL. IV. NO. XVIII. Z

300 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

ried, but from the custom then common of calling every lady of station
Mistress whether wedded or single.

The trial took place at the assizes at Hertford, on the 16th July,
1699, before Sir Henry Hatsell, one of the Barons of the Exchequer.
The indictment charged Spencer Cowper, Esq., John Marson, Ellis
Stevens, and William Rogers, with having, at Hertford, murdered Sarah
Stout, spinster, by strangling her with a rope, and with having, in
order to conceal the murder, thrown her into the Priory river.
Mr. Jones, counsel for the crown, thus stated the case : —
"May it please your lordship, and you gentlemen that are sworn, I
am of counsel for the king in this cause, and it is upon an indictment,
by which the gentlemen at the bar stand accused for one of the foulest
and most wicked crimes almost that any age can remember ; I believe
in your county you never knew a fact of this nature: for here is a
young gentlewoman of this county, murdered and strangled in the
night-time. The thing was done in the dark, therefore the evidence
cannot be so plain as otherwise might be.

After she was strangled and murdered, she was carried and thrown
into a river, to stifle the fact, and to make it supposed she had murdered
herself; so that it may indeed be called a double murder; a murder
accompanied with all the circumstances of wickedness and villany that
I can remember in all my practice, or ever read of.

This fact being committed in the night-time, it was carried on very
secretly. We have here in a manner two trials, one to acquit the party
that is dead, and to satisfy the world, and vindicate her reputation that
she did not murder herself, but was murdered by other hands. For my
part, I shall never, as counsel in the case of blood, aggravate j I will
not improve or enlarge the evidence at all : it shall be only my business
to set the fact as it is, and to give the evidence, and state it as it stands
here in my instructions.

My lord, in order to lead to the fact, it will be necessary to inform
you, that upon Monday the 13th of March, the first day of the last
assizes here, Mr. Cowper, pne of the gentlemen at the bar, came to
this town, and alighted at Mr. Barefoot's house, and staid there some
time, I suppose, to dry himself, the weather being dirty; but sent his
horse to Mrs. Stout's, the mother of this gentlewoman. Some time
after, he came thither himself, and dined there, and staid till four in
the afternoon ; and at four, when he went away, he told them he would
come and lodge there that night, and sup.

According to his word he came there, and had the supper he desired :
after supper, Mrs. Stout, the young gentlewoman, and he, sat together
till near eleven o'clock. At eleven o'clock there were orders given to
warm his bed, openly, in his hearing. The maid of the house, gentle-
men, upon this, went up stairs to warm his bed, expecting the gentle-
man would have come up and followed her before she had done ; but,
it seems, while she was warming the bed, she heard the door clap to-
gether ; and the nature of that door is such, that it makes a great noise
at the clapping of it to, that any person in the house may be sensible of
another's going out. The maid, upon this, was concerned, and won-
dered at the meaning of it, as he promised to sleep there that night.
She came down, but there was neither Mr. Cowper nor Mrs. Stout ;
so that we suppose, and for all that we can find and learn, they must
have gone out together. After this, the maid and mother came into

THE ARISTOCRACY. 30l

the room, and neither the young gentlewoman nor Mr. Cowper not
returning, they sat up all night in the house, expecting the young
gentlewoman would return. The next morning, the first news of this
lady was, that she lay flouting and swimming in the water by the mill-
dam: upon that, there were several persons called j for it was a wonder
how this should come to pass. There she lay floating with her petti-
coats and apron, but her night rail and morning-gown were off, and one
of them not found t>ll some time after j and the maid will give you an
account how it came to be found.

This made a great noise in the county, for it was very extraordinary,
it happening that, from the time the maid left Mr. Cowper and this
young gentlewoman together, she was not seen or heard of till next
morning, when she was found in this condition, with her eyes broad
open, floating upon the water.

When her body came to be viewed, it was very much wondered at ;
for, in the first place, it is contrary to nature, that any persons that
drown themselves should float upon the water. We have sufficient
evidence, that it is a thing that never was : if persons go alive into the
water, then they sink ; if dead, then they swim ; that made some more
curious to look into this matter. At first it was thought that such an
accident might happen, though they could not imagine any cause for
this woman to do so, who had so great prosperity, had so good an
estate, and had no occasion to do an action upon herself so wicked and
so barbarous ; .nor cannot learn what reason she had to induce her to
such a thing. Upon viewing the body, it did appear, there had been
violence used to the woman j there was a crease round her neck, she
was bruised about her ear ; so that it did seem as if she had been
strangled, either by hands or a rope.

Gentlemen, upon the examination it was wondered how this matter
came about ; it was dark and obscure ; the coroner at that time, nor
these people, had no evidence given but the ordinary evidence, and it
passed in a day.

We must call our witnesses to this fact, that of necessity you must
conclude she was strangled, and did not drown herself: if we give you
as strong a proof as can be upon the nature of the fact, that she was
strangled, then the second matter under your enquiry will be, to know
who, or what persons should be the men that did the fact. I told you
before, it was, as all wicked actions are, a matter of darkness, and done
in secret, to be kept as much from the knowledge of men as was possible.

Truly, gentlemen, as to the persons at the bar, the evidence of the
fact will be very short, and will be to this purpose.

Mr. Cowper was the last man, unfortunately, in her company ; I
could wish he had not been so with all my heart : it is a very unfor-
tunate thing that his name should, upon this occasion, be brought upon
the stage : but then, my lord, it was a strange thing. Here happens to be
three gentlemen, Mr. Marson, Mr. Rogers, and Mr. Stevens : as to these
three men, my lord, I do not hear of any business they had here, unless
it was to do this matter, to serve some interest or friend that sent them
upon this message : for, my lord, they came to town (and in things of
this nature, it is well we have this evidence ; these things come out
slowly,) these persons, Mr. Stevens, Mr. Rogers, and Mr. Marson,
came to town here, on the 13th of March last, the assize-day. My

z 2

302 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

lord, when they came to town, they went to a house, and took lodging
at one Gurrey's ; they took a bed for two, and went out of their lodg-
ing, having hired a room with a large bed in it ; and afterwards they
went to the Glove and Dolphin, and then, about eight o'clock, one
Marson came to them there ; in what company they came, your lonl-
ship, and the jury, will know by-and-bye: they staid there, my lord'
at the Glove, from eight o'clock till eleven, as they say. At eleven
these three gentlemen came all in to their lodging together at this
Gurrey's. My lord, when they came in, it was very remarkable, just
as if there had been a sort of fate in it ; first, that they should happen
to be in the condition they were ; and, secondly, fall upon the discourse
they did at that time : for, my lord, they called for Hre, and the fire was
made them ; and, while the people of the house were going about, they
observed and heard these gentlemen talk of Mrs. Sarah Stout; that
happened to be their discourse : one said to the other, " Marson, she
was an old sweetheart of yours ;'' " Ay,'' said he, " but she cast me
off ; but I reckon, by this time, a friend of mine has done her busi-
ness. " Another piece of discourse was, " I believe a friend of

mine is even with her by this time." They had a bundle of linen with
them ; but what it was is not known ; and one takes the bundle and
throws it upon the bed. " Well," said he, " her business is done :
Mrs. Sarah Stout's courting days are over j" and they sent for wine,
my lord : so, after they had drunk of the wine, they talked, and one
pulled out a great deal of money : said one to the other, " What money
have you spent to-day?" Said the other, " Thou hast had 40 or 50/.
for thy share :'' said the other, " I will spend all the money I have,
for joy the business is done."

My lord, this discourse happened to be among them, which made
people of the house consider and bethink themselves ; when the next
day they heard of Mrs. Stout's being found in the water, this made
them recollect and call to mind all these discourses.

My lord, after these gentlemen had staid there all night, next morn-
ing, truly, it was observed, (and I suppose some account will be given
of it,) that Mr. Cowper and they did meet together, and had several
discourses ; and that very day went out of town ; and, I think, as soon
as they came to Hoddesdon, made it all their discourse and business to
talk of Mrs. Stout.

My lord, we will call our witnesses, and prove all these facts that I
have opened to your lordship ; and then, I hope, they will be made to
give you some account how all these matters came about."

Sarah Walker, servant to the deceased Mrs. Stout, being called as a
witness for the king, testified, that, on Friday before the last assizes,
Mr. Cowper's wife sent her mistress a letter, acquainting her, she might
expect her husband at the assizes, and he came in with the judge ac-
cordingly the Monday following ; and her mistress asking him, as he
rode by, if he would alight, he said, no ; he would go and shew him-
self, but would send his horse presently, and let her know at what
time he would come; but her mistress thinking he had forgot, sent
her, the witness, to know if he designed to come? He answered, he
had business j but came, however, in less than a quarter of an hour,
and dined there : and going away about four o'clock, her mistress asked
him, if he would lie there? He said, yes ; and came at nine o'clock ;
and having sat about half an hour, be asked for a pen and ink, and

THE ARISTOCRACY. 303

wrote a letter to his wife ; after which, he desired he might have some
milk for his supper, which the witness brought him : and, when he had
supped, her mistress hade her make a fire in his chamber ; and, when
she came and told Mr. Cowper she had made one, he looked at her,
but said nothing ; and her mistress, in his hearing, bade her warm his
bed, which she went up to do as the clock struck eleven ; and, about a
quarter of an hour after, she heard the house door shut, and thought
he was gone to carry his letter ; but, coming down into the parlour a
quarter of an hour after she heard the door shut, she found nobody
there ; both Mr. Cowper and her mistress were gone, and she never
saw her more alive.

Mr. Cowper desiring she would be particular as to the time he went
away ; she answered, it was a quarter after eleven by their clock ; but
that went half an hour faster than the town clock.

Mr. Cowper demanding, why she did not enquire after her mistress
that night ? the maid answered, she thought her mistress was with
him, and could come to no harm. Old Mrs. Stout, her mother, was
against her making any enquiry, because if they did not find her, she
said, it would alarm the town, and there might be no occasion : how-
ever, they sat up all night in expectation of their return.

Mr. Cowper demanding, if her mistress did not use to stay out all
night ; or, if she had not said so ? The maid answered, No. Then he
asked her, if her mistress was not melancholy ? She answered, she
could not say but she was melancholy ; but she imputed it to a fit of
illness ; she knew no other cause.

Mr. Cowper asking, if she did not buy poison within this twelvemonth,
and by whose order? She answered, that she (the witness) had bought
poison twice, to poison a dog that broke some things -} but had no order
for it.

Mr. Jones demanded, if she ever found her mistress inclined to do
herself a mischief? She answered, she never did.

Mr. Jones asking, if Mr. Cowper's horse stood at her mistress's
house, and if Mr. Cowper ever returned to Mrs. Stout's again ? She
answered, his horse stood there, but Mr. Cowper never returned after
that night he went away, in the manner she related.

Mr. Jones asking, if Mr. Cowper told them he would lie there ? The
maid answered, when he went from dinner he said so.

Berry, the miller, was sworn, and said, that going out at six in
the morning, to shoot a flush of water, he saw something Moating,
which proved to be the clothes of the deceased, her body being five or
six inches underwater; that she lay on her right side, her right arm
being driven between the stakes, which stood about a foot asunder ;
that the water was then about rive foot deep : she did not appear at ail
swelled, and her eyes were open.

John Venables said, that he saw the corpse in the river j that she lay
on her right side, rather above the water than under, insomuch that one
of her ruffles appeared above the water • and both this witness and the
last agreed, that her eyes were open ; and that there were no weeds, or
any thing under the corpse, to hinder it from sinking.

Leonard Dell deposed, that he saw the corpse flouting, and that part
of her clothes were above the water ; that her face might also be seen,
it was so near the surface, and her eyes were open ; and agreed with
the former witnesses, that she lay on her right side, vuth her head and

304 CUUIOUS TRIALS CONNECT KD WITH

right arm between the stakes or piles, that were fixed in the river ; he
believed there might be about five foot of water, and there was nothing
under her to prevent the sinking of the corpse : that he and another
took the corpse out of the water, and laid it on the bank, where it
remained an hour : she was laced, and he did not perceive her to be at
all swelled, or that any water came out of the corpse on moving it j
only a froth came out of her mouth and nostrils, about as much as he
could hold in his hand.

John Ulse also testified, that he helped to take her out of the water,
and she lay on one side between the stakes ; and that upon taking her
out, no water came from her, only some froth at her nostrils ; that the
stakes did not bear up the corpse, and there was nothing under it to
keep it from sinking.

Catherine Dew deposed, that she saw the corpse taken out of the
water j that she lay on one side in the river, her teeth clenched, the
water flowing a little over her face, and some part of her coats above
the water, her right arm lying against a stake ; that she was laced, and
not at all swelled, and she saw a purging froth issue out of her nose
and one of her eyes.

Thomas Dew deposed, that she lay on her side in the water, her right
arm within the stakes, and her left arm without j that her shoes "and
stockings were clean, without any mud or dirt on them j and he did not
think the corpse had ever sunk to the bottom ; and, when she was
taken out, no water came from her, only some froth out of her nose ;
and she was not at all swelled.

Edward Blackno (and four other witnesses) confirmed the testimony
of the former witnesses, as to the posture of the corpse in the water ;
as did also William Edmunds, and William Page.

The medical evidence which would establish the fact of strangling
and drowning was then adduced on the part of the prosecution. Though
extending to considerable length it amounted to this :

Mr. Dimsdale, a surgeon, said, that he went at the request of old
Mrs. Stout to view the corpse, together with Mr. Camlin, the same day
it was found ; and he observed a little swelling on the side of the neck,
and she was black on both sides, particularly the left side, and between
the breasts up towards the collar-bone.

It being demanded how her ears were, he said, there was a blackness
on both ears, and a settling of blood.

Mr. Cowper then asked him, if he did not say that the settling of
blood was no more than a common stagnation, before the Coroner's
inquest? He answered, he did not remember a word of that j but he
confessed, that there was no mark or circle about her neck.

Sarah Kimpson said, that she helped to lay out the corpse, and there
was a settlement of blood behind the ear, bigger than her hand would
cover, and another settlement of blood under her collar-bone : but she
saw no mark about the neck : that the body had no water in it, as she
could perceive.

Other women gave similar testimony, some being certain as to the
mark round the neck.

Mr. Coatsworth, the surgeon, deposed, that the body, having been
buried six weeks, was taken up by her friends j and he went to Hert-
ford, at the request of old Mrs. Stout, to see it opened, and that among
other matters (which he spoke to) he observed that from the intestines

THE ARISTOCRACY. 305

not having rotted, there could hav.e been no water in the stomach, and
the woman could not have been drowned.

The other medical witnesses for the crown came to the same con-
clusion, on examination of the body : one of them, a Dr. Coatsworth,
being asked what was his opinion of bodies found floating without any
water in them ? He answered, every one that was drowned, was suf-
focated, by water passing down the wind pipe into the lungs by respi-
ration 5 and, at the same time, the water pressing upon the gullet,
there would be a necessity of swallowing great part of it into the
stomach : he had been in danger of drowning himself, and was forced
to swallow a great quantity of water. If a person was drowned, and
taken out immediately, as soon as the suffocation was effected, he
should not wonder if there was but little water in the stomach j but if
it lay in the water several hours, it must be strange if the stomach
should not be full of water ; but he would not say it was impossible to
be otherwise.

Mr. Cowper demanding, whether he attempted to drown himself, or
was in danger of drowning by acc-ident ? He answered, by accident:
whereupon Mr. Cowper observed, there was a difference where a person
drowned himself on purpose, and was drowned by accident ; for when
he was drowned by accident, he struggled a great while, and took in
much water before he died $ but when a person threw herself into the
water on purpose to be drowned, she died immediately, receiving but
little water before she expired.

The medical evidence further showed that there existed no grounds
for impugning the moral condition of the deceased.

This evidence being concluded, Mr. Jones, the king's counsel, said,
he hoped they had given the jury satisfaction, that the deceased did not
drown herself, but was carried into the water after she was killed : for,
if it was true that all dead bodies, thrown into the water, swam j and
bodies, that fell into the water alive, and were drowned, sunk, that was
sufficient evidence she was not drowned, but came by her death some
other way. They had shewn, that Mr. Cowper was the last man in her
company j and what became of her afterwards, nobody could tell : and
they should now proceed to give evidence, that, notwithstanding all the
civilities and kindness that passed between this family and him, when
the noise of the fact was spread abroad, Mr. Cowper did not come to
consult with old Mrs. Stout what was proper to be done ; but rode
out of town next day, without taking any notice of the accident.

John Archer deposed, that he saw Mr. Cowper take horse at the
Glove, on Wednesday morning after the assizes, and ride out the back
vvay; which Mr. Cowper observed, was the usual way he went the cir-
cuit into Essex.

George Aldridge, the hostler of the Glove, also testified, that he saw-
Mr. Cowper take horse on the Wednesday, and go the way that led to
Chelmsford. — He deposed also, that Mr. Cowper sent him for his horse
to Mrs. Stout on the Tuesday night, telling him he should have occa-
sion for the horse to go out with the judge next morning $ and he
went three times before they would deliver the horse.

Mr. Cowper thereupon said, he sent for his horse, because he heard
she had drowned herself; and he thought it was prudent to do so, for fear
the lord of the manor should seize every thing that was there, as forfeited.

Mr. Jones observed, he did not think lit to take his horse himself,

^Ut> CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

though he put him up there : and now they should proceed to give
evidence against the other three prisoners.
K John Gurrey testified,

That, at the last assizes, Mr. Stevens and Mr. Rogers came and hired
a lodging of his wife, in the afternoon, when he was at church ; that
they came again to his house about eleven at night, and brought Mr.
Marson with them : they all went up stairs, had a fire lighted, and
asked for the landlord, whereupon he (Gurrey) came up to them, and
fetched them wine, and at their desire, sat down and drank with them :
then they asked, if Mrs. Sarah Stout lived in town, and if she was a
fortune ? And he promised to shew them Mrs. Stout the next, day :
and Mr. Rogers and Stevens telling Marson he was her old sweetheart;
Marson answered, she had thrown him off, but a friend of his was even
with her by that time : that Mr. Marson putting by his wig, he saw his
head was wet j and Marson said he was just come from London, and
that made him in such a heat : that the next morning he (the witness)
hearing of the accident, went down to Mrs. Stout's, and saw them lay-
ing her out in the barn, and meeting Mr. Marson, Mr. Stevens, and
Mr. Rogers as he came back, he told them the news, and they desired
him to go with them to the barn again, which he did j and while he
was viewing of the corpse, they went away : and about eleven the same
morning, he saw Mr. Marson and Mr. Stevens with Mr. Cowper in the
market-place.

Here Mr. Cowper demanded of Gurrey, if he did not say to his wife,
they must not meddle with Sarah Walker, the rnaid of the deceased j
because she was a witness against the Cowpers ? Gurrey thereupon
acknowledged that, upon his wife's saying she suspected Sarah Walker,
he bid her not concern herself with her, for fear of taking off her evidence.

The evidence for the king being here closed, and Mr. Cowper directed
to enter upon his defence, he said : —

" Now they have done on the part of the king, my lord and you gen-
tlemen of the jury, I must beg your patience for my defence: I con-
fess it was an unfortunare accident for me, (as Mr. Jones calls it,) that
I happened to be the last person (for ought appears) in the company of
a melancholy woman. The discourse occasioned by this accident, had
been a sufficient misfortune to me, without anything else to aggravate
it ; but I did not in the least imagine that so little, so trivial an evi-
dence as here is, could possibly have affected me to so great degree, as
to bring me to this place, to answer for the worst fact that the worst
of men can be guilty of.

My lord, your lordship is well aware, that I have appeared at the bar
for my clients ; but I must say too, that I never appeared for myself under
this or the like circumstances, as a criminal for any offence whatsoever.

Mr. Jones very well said, when he spoke on the part of the king,
that, if this gentlewoman was murdered, the crime was villanous, base,
barbarous, and cruel 5 and, for my part, I think so too: the crime
would be so great, that it never could be sufficiently condemned : but
at the same time I may aver, that to suppose a murder without good
^rounds for it, and afterwards to charge innocent men with it knowingly
and maliciously, is to a trifle as base and barbarous as the murder itself
could be.

My lord, I speak for my own part} I know not at what price other
men may value their lives ; but I had much rather myself was mur-

THE ARISTOCRACY. 307

dered, than my reputation ; which yet, I am sensible, has suffered
greatly hitherto, by the malice and artifice of some men, who have gone
pretty far in making this fact, as barbarous as it is, to be credited of
me j and, therefore, I must beg your lordships, and the jury's patience,
while I not only defend my life, but justify myself also, from these
things that have unjustly aspersed me> by the conspiracy and artifice of
my accusers.

My lord, in all the evidence that has been given, I must observe,
there is no positive evidence (with submission) to induce the jury, or
any one, to believe that this gentlewoman was murdered ; but they go
upon suppositions and inferences, which are contradicted by other cir-
cumstances, in the very evidence of the prosecutor, that make full as
strong to prove that she was not murdered, as that she was j so that,
as it stands, it can amount only to a bare supposition, that she was
murdered by any body.

Then, as to the evidence that particularly relates to myself or the
gentlemen who stand with me at the bar, that they, or 1 were con-
cerned in it (if she was murdered), there is not one syllable of proof;
at most, it amounts but to make us only suspected of a murder, not
proved, but only suspected j this, I observe, upon the evidence, as it
now stands without answer, as it has been given on the king's part ;
and how far, in the case of life, men shall be affected with evidence of
this nature, which neither proves the murder in general, nor that they
did it in particular, though no defence was made, or any further answer
given, I submit to your lordship's and the jury's judgment.

But, my lord, I do not doubt but I shall be able to wipe away, even
that remote suspicion, by my defence : they have been long in their
evidence for the king ; and, therefore, I must beg your patience while
I give a particular answer to every part of it, in as good a method
as I am able j and I will waste as little time as may consist with the
justifying of my reputation -, for which I know your lordship will have
as tender a regard, to see it doth not suffer unjustly, as for my life itself.

And, I promise your lordshfp, I shall trouble you with no evidence,
which is not clear and plain, no inuendos or suspicions ; but I shall
prove fully and clearly, in the first place, that there was no ground at
all in this case, to suppose she was murdered by any one but herself.

The first fact that they insisted upon, to infer a murder from it, was,
that the body was found floating : now, my lord, that fact I am able,
by the evidence I have, as well as from that of the prosecutor, to
deny ; for the fact was directly otherwise, that is, she was not found
floating.

And whereas, the prosecutor's witnesses, who have been produced to
this point, are obscure and poor men, and your lordship observes, have
been taught to say generally that she floated, which, when they are re-
quired to explain, and describe how she lay, they contradict themselves
in, by shewing she lay sideways between the stakes, and almost all
under water. Now I shall give your lordship and the jury, a full and
particular account and description from the parish officers, men em-
ployed by the coroner to take the body out of the wafer, of the very
manner and posture in which it was first found ; which they are much
better able to do than the prosecutor's witnesses, having seen her
before all or most of those people j and these officers clearly agree,
that her body was under water, when found, except some small appear-
ance of her petticoat, near or on the surface of the water, which may'

308

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

be very easily accounted for; because the stakes, the witnesses men-
tion, and which are driven into the ground across the river, to prevent
weeds and rubbish from running into the mill-stand, as the witnesses
have already said, about a foot distance from one another, and are set
with their feet from the mill, and their heads inclining towards the mill
with the stream. Now, my lord, every body knows, that though a
drowned body will at first sink, yet it is buoyant, and does not go
downright, and rest in one place like lead ; for a human body is seldom
or never in a stream found to lie where it was drowned; a body
drowned at Chelsea, has been often found by fishermen at London, and
that before it came to float above water. Now if a body is so buoyant,
as that it is driven down by the impellent force of the current, though
it do not float above water, it seems a consequence, that when it comes
to be stopped and resisted by the stakes which lie with their heads
downwards, inclining with the stream, the stream bearing the body
against the stakes, must needs raise it upwards, to find another passage,
if possible, when the ordinary and natural is obstructed. I have seen,
I remember, that where weeds have been driven down a river, and have
been rolled along at the bottom, when they have come down to a board
or stakes of a wier or turnpike, they have been by the force of the
water, raised up against those boards or stakes, and forced over them ;
though, without such obstruction, they had undoubtedly continued to
roll under the water. I do not know of any one symptom they pretend
to, of her not being drowned, from any thing observed of her in the
water. Then, as to her flatness, when she was laid in her coffin, I shall
shew it as a common and natural accident ; sometimes drowned bodies
are swelled more, sometimes less, sometimes not at all : 1 think it
hardly requires a physician to prove, that a body may be drowned with
very little water; that a man may be drowned by strangling, or suffo-
cation caused by a little water in the lungs, without any great quantity
of water received in the body, is a certain and established truth j for I
am told that when respiration ceases, the party dies, and can receive no
water after that; so that nothing is to be inferred from a body's having
more or less water found in it, especially if your lordship will give me
leave to observe this distinction, where a body is voluntarily drowned,
and where it is drowned by accident ; for people that fall in by accident
do struggle and strive as long as they can ; every time they rise they
drink some water into the stomach, to prevent its passing into the
lungs, and are drowned no sooner than needs must; but persons that
voluntarily drown themselves, to be sure, desperately plunge into the
water, to dispatch a miserable life as soon as they can ; and so that
little quantity in the lungs which causes death, may be the sooner taken
in, after which no more is received ; and I hope, by physicians, it will
appear, there is good ground for this difference.

The next is the evidence that the surgeons have given on the other
part, relating to the taking this gentlewoman out of her grave, after
she had been buried six weeks ; whether this ought to have been given
in evidence, for the reasons I hinted at, in a criminal case, I submit to
your lordship ; but as it is, I have no reason to apprehend it, being
able to make appear, that the gentlemen who spoke to this point, have
delivered themselves in that manner, either out of extreme malice, or a
most profound ignorance : this will be so very plain upon my evidence,
that I must take the liberty to impute one, or both of those causes,

THE ARISTOCRACY. 309

to the gentlemen that have argued from their observations upon that
matter.

And now, if your lordship will but plea?e to consider the circum-
stances under which they would accuse me of this horrid action, I do
not think they will pretend to say, that in the whole course of my life,
I have been guilty of any mean or indirect action ; and I will put it to
the worst enemy 1 have in the world to say it. Now, for a man in the
condition I was in, of some fortune in possession, related to a better,
in a good employment, thriving in my profession, living within my in-
come, never in debt, (I may truly say, not five pounds at any one time,
these eight years past,) having no possibility of making any advantage
by her death, void of all malice -, and, as appears by her own evidence,
in perfect amity and friendship with this gentlewoman, tu be guilty of
the murdering her, to begin at the top of all baseness and wickedness,
certainly is incredible.

My lord, in this prosecution, my enemies seeing the necessity of
assigning some cause, have been so malicious to suggest before, though
not now, when I have this opportunity of vindicating myself publicly,
that I have been concerned in the receipt of money for this gentle-
woman, had her securities by me, and sometimes that I had been her
guardian, or her trustee, and I know not what I now see the contrivers
and promoters of that scandal, and they know it to be base, false, and
malicious : I never was concerned in interest with her directly or
indirectly 5 and so I told them when I was before my Lord Chief
Justice: it is true, it was then just suggested by the prosecutors, I
then denied it, and I deny it still, — I thank God, I have not been used,
nor have I needed, to deny the truth.

My lord, you find the prosecutors have nothing to say to me upon
this head, after all the slanders and stories they have published against
me, of my having money in my hands which belonged to the deceased:
but though they do not stir it, I will, and give your lordship a full ac-
count of all that ever was in that matter. When I lodged at Hertford,
some time since she desired me to recommend to her a security for
£200 if it came in my way ; my lord, when I came to town, I under-
stood that one Mrs. Puller, a client of mine, had a mortgage formerly
made to her by one Mr. Loftus of Lambeth, in Surry, for the like sum ;
and that she was willing to have in her money : I wrote to this gentle-
woman, the deceased, to acquaint her of the security ; she thereupon
did send up £200 arid some odd pounds for interest; the account of
which I produced to my Lord Chief Justice : this money was sent to
me by Mr. Cramfield, as I have been informed, and by him given to
Mr. Toller's clerk, and by him brought publicly to me.

My lord, this mortgage I immediately transferred by assignment
indorsed on the back of it, and Mrs. Habberfield, a trustee for Mrs.
Puller, signed and sealed it ; and that very £200 and interest due was
at one and the same time paid to Mrs. Puller, and by her the principal
was paid to her daughter, in part of her portion : all this was trans-
acted the beginning of December last, and she was not drowned till
the 13th of March following j and, my lord, these people that are now
the prosecutors, did own before my Lord Chief Justice, that they had
found this mortgage amongst the deceased's writings in her cabinet at
the time of her death. Now, my lord, I say, that, saving this one ser-
vice I did her, as I said, in December last, I never was otherwise con-

310 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

cerned with her in the receiving or disposing of any of her money ; nor
had I ever any of her securities for money in my keeping ; and I defy
any adversary I have, to shew the contrary.

My lord, as there appears no malice, no interest, so they have proved
for me, that there was no concealment of shame to induce me to com-
mit so barbarous an action j otherwise, perhaps, now they find they
can assign no other cause, they would content themselves to give that
reason, and fling that scandal at me ; and though I take it, by the ex-
perience I have had of them, they did not design to do me any favour,
yet, I thank them, in endeavouring to vindicate her honour, they have
secured my reputation against that calumny $ and though I am satisfied,
as I said, they did not intend me kindness, yet I thank God, they have
given me a just opportunity to take advantage of their cunning, for the
clearing my innocence in that particular.

I will shew your lordship in the next place, that it is utterly impos-
sible I could be concerned in this fact, if I had had all the motives and
provocations in the world to have done it : I shall shew your lordship,
in point of time, it could not be.

The maid, Sarah Walker, who is the single witness, I take it, that
says any thing in the least relating to me, said but now, the clock had
struck eleven before she carried up the coals, and about a quarter of
an hour after, while she was warming the bed above stairs, she heard
the door clap, and sometime after she came down, and found that I and
her mistress were gone : now, in point of time, I shall prove it utterly
impossible I could be guilty of the fact I am accused of, being seen to
come into the Glove Inn as the town clock struck eleven, and staying
there more than a quarter of an hour, wns, after several things done at
my lodging, in bed before twelve o'clock, and went no more out that
night, as I shall prove. As for that little circumstance of sending for
my horse, which they have made use of all along to back this prose-
cution, their very telling me of that matter, shows how they are put
to their shifts to justify their accusing me j I say, in prudence, I ought
to have done what I did : I sent for him on the Tuesday, but as their
witness said, I told him at the time I bid him fetch my horse, not to
use then, nor till by the course of the circuit I was tD go into Essex
with the judges the next morning j and till then the prosecutor's wit-
ness, who is the hostler at the Glove Inn, was ordered to set him up
there, to litter him down, and to take care of him, and feed him ; and
that he should be ready for me to go to Chelmsford on the morrow,
whither I went with the other counsel the next morning, being Wed-
nesday: and this, my lord, is the whole of that matter.

My lord, this business slept near two months after the coroner's
inquest, before I heard of it, or imagined myself to be concerned in it,
and was never stirred, till two parties, differing on all other occasions,
had laid their heads together : I beg leave to let your lordship a little
into that matter, to shew you how this prosecution came to be managed
with so much noise and violence as it has been. I can make it appear,
that one of the greatest of the Quakers, Mr. Mead by name, has very
much, and indirectly too, concerned himself in this matter : it seems,
they fancy the reputation of their sect is concerned in it ; for they think
i*. a wonderful thing, nay, absolutely impossible, (however other people
may be liable to such resolutions,) that one, who was by her education
entitled to the light within her, should run headlong into the water, as

TIE ARISTOCRACY. 311

if she had been possessed with the devil; of this they think their sect is
to be cleared, though by spilling the blood of four innocent men. The
other sort of people that concur with the Quakers in this prosecution, I
shall mention, now I come to observe what the witnesses are that have
been produced against me : some of them I have nothing to object to,
but that they are extremely indigent and poor, and have been helped by
the prosecutor j those that are so, say nothing as to me 5 others \vho
live in this town, and give their opinions of the manner of her death, are
possest with much prejudice against me, upon feuds that have risen at
the elections of my father and brother in this town j and these, with the
Quakers who have wholly drest up this matter for several ends ; the
Quakers to maintain the reputation of their sect, and the others to de-
stroy, or break at least, the interest of my family in this place. But,
however effectual these designs may have been, to have made a great
noise in the world out of nothing ; I am satisfied now, that I am in a
court of justice, where no person's reputation, much less his life, will be
sacrificed to the policy or malice of a party without proof} and, therefore,
I have taken up so much of your time, to set the true rise of this prose-
cution before you in a clear light.

My lord, as to my coming to this town on Monday, it was the first
day of the assizes, and that was the reason that brought me hither ; be-
fore I came out of town, I confess, I had a design of taking a lodging at
this gentlewoman's house, having been invited, by letter, so to do ; and
the reason why I did not, was this : my brother, when he went the cir-
cuit, always favoured me with the offer of a part of his lodging, which,
out of good husbandry, I always accepted ; the last circuit was in parlia-
ment time, and my brother being in the money-chair, could not attend
the circuit as he used to do : he had very good lodgings, I think one of
the best in this town, where I used to be with him : these- were always
kept for him, unless notice was sent to the contrary. The Friday before
I came down to the assizes, I happened to be in company with my bro-
ther and another gentleman, and then I showed them the letter, by
which I was earnestly invited down to lie at the house of this gentlewo-
man during the assizes (it is dated the 9th of March last) ; and, designing
to comply with the invitation, I thereupon desired my brother to write to
Mr. Barefoot, our landlord, and get him, if he could, to dispose of the
lodgings j for, said I, if he keeps them, they must be paid for, and then
I cannot well avoid lying there : my brother did say, he would write, if
he could think on it. And thus, if Mr. Barefoot disposed of the lodgings,
I own I intended to lie at the deceased's house ; but, if not, I looked on
myself as obliged to lie at Mr. Barefoot's. Accordingly I shall prove, as
soon as ever I came to this town, in the morning of the first day of the
assizes, I went directly to Mr. Barefoot's (the maid and all agree in this)
and the reason was, I had not seen my brother after he said he would
write, before I went out of London ; and, therefore, it was proper for me
to go first to Mr. Ban-foot's, to know whether my brother had wrote to
him, and whether he had disposed of the lodgings or not. As soon as I
came to Mr. Barefoot's, there was one Mr. Taylor, of this town, came to
me, and I, in his hearing, asked Mr. Barefoot, his wife, and maid ser-
vant, one after another, if they had received a letter from my brother, to
unbespeak the lodgings ? They told me, no : that the room was kept
for us ; and I think, that they had made a fire, and that the sheets were
airing. I was a little concerned hs had not written ; but, being satisfied

312 CURIOUS TRTALS CONNECTED WITH

that no letter had been received, I said immediately, as I shall prove by
several witnesses, if it be so, I must stay with you: I will take up my
lodging here : thereupon I alighted, and sent for my bag from the coffee-
house, and lodged all my things at Barefoot's : and thus I took up my
lodging there as usual. I had no sooner done this, but Sarah Walker
came to me from her mistress to invite me to dinner, and accordingly I
went and dined there ; and when I went away, it may be true, that, being
asked, I said I would come again at night ; but that I did say I would
lie there, I do positively deny ; and, knowing I could not lie there, it is
unlikely I should say so. My Lord, at night I did come again, and paid
her some money, which I received from Mr. Loftus, who is the mort-
gager for interest of the £200. I before mentioned (it was six pounds
odd money, in guineas and half-guineas,) I wrote a receipt, but she de-
clined the signing of it, pressing me to stay there that night, which I re-
fused, as engaged to lie at Mr. Barefoot's, and took my leave of her; and
that very money, which I paid her, was found in her pocket, as I have
heard, after she was drowned.

Now, my Lord, the reason that I went to her house at night, was,
first, as I said, to pay her the interest money; in the next place, it was
but fitting, when I owned myself under a necessity of disappointing her,
and lying at Barefoot's, to go to excuse my not lying there ; which I had
not an opportunity at dinner-time to do. My Lord, I open my defence
shortly, referring the particulars to the witnesses themselves, in calling
those who will fully refute the suppositions and inferences made by the
prosecutors, whom first, my Lord, I shall begin with, to show there is no
evidence of any murder at all committed ; and this, I say again, ought to
be indisputably made manifest and proved, before any man can be so
much as suspected for it."

Judge Hatsel bade Mr. Cowper not flourish too much, but call his
witnesses, and then make his observations.

Mr. Cowper then called Robert Dew, who said, that he saw Sarah Stout
taken up ; that she lay in the river, covered with the water about half a
foot, and had a striped petticoat on, but nothing could be seen above
water ; and that when he heaved her up, he found several sticks and
flags under her ; that she lay on her right side in the water, her head
leaning down, and her arm between the stakes, which stood sloping,
leaning down the stream a little: that when she was taken out, he per-
ceived a white froth come from her mouth and nose, and, as they wiped
it away, more came out.

Young, the constable, confirmed the evidence of the last witness, dif-
fering only in this, that he saw part of her coat lie on the top of the
water, and that they found six guineas, ten shillings, and threepence-
halfpenny in her pockets.

Wall, one of the coroner's inquest, deposed, that there were no marks
upon the body when they viewed, only a little mark about her ear, and
something near her collar bone ; and that Mr. John Dimsdale told them,
these marks were no more than usual in such cases : it was only a stag-
nation of the blood. — Other witnesses testified, that she frothed pretty
much at the mouth.

Mr. Cowper's medical witnesses numbered amongst them some of the
most eminent names that have ever been in the profession. They con-
sisted of Dr. Sloane, Dr. Garth, Dr. Morley, Dr. Gilstrapp, Dr. Harriot,
Dr. Wollaston, Dr. Crell, Mr. William Cooper, the great anatomist, Mr.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 313

Bartlett, and Mr. Camlin. They had all been in court whilst the medical
evidence for the crown was given. They all accorded in what they as-
serted, and the sum of what they stated may be taken from the testimony
of the four following.

Dr. Garth said, it was impossible the body should have floated unless
it had rested or been entangled with the stakes, because all dead bodies
fall to the bottom ; and, as all the witnesses agreed she was found upon
her side, it was as hard to conceive how she should float in this posture, as
that a deal board should float edgeways : therefore it was plain she was
entangled, or the posture would have been otherwise. As to the quantity
of water in her, it need not be very great ; but, he must own, the water
would force itself into all cavities where there was no resistance. He
believed, when she threw herself in, she might not struggle to save her
life, and so not sup up much water: however, he doubted not but some
water fell into her lungs, because the weight of it would force itself
down ; but this might imperceptibly work or fall out : nor did he think
water in the body would promote putrefaction ; for, in some places, they
kept flesh meat from corruption by preserving it in water: and, it was
well known, it would putrify less in water than when exposed to air.
And, being asked again as to the sinking of dead bodies, he persisted in
his opinion, that all dead bodies would sink, unless prevented by some
extraordinary accident ; as, if a strangled body be thrown into the water,
and the lungs being filled with air, the cord be left about the neck, in
that case it might float, because of the included air, as a bladder does;
but here was no cord, or any mark of it, only a common stagnation 5
that seamen were mistaken, when they thought they swam: he had
made the experiment on other animals, and they all sunk. Being asked,
if any quantity of water could pass into the cavity of the thorax ? he
answered, it was impossible there should be any, till the lungs were
quite rotten ; there was no way but by the lungs, which were invested
with so strong a membrane, that they could not force breath through it
without their blow -pipes.

Dr. Morley said, there was no necessity she should have a great quan-
tity of water in her j if she drew into her lungs two ounces of water, it
was the same thing as to drowning her, as if there had been two tons.
They drowned a dog the last night, and dissected him, and found not a
spoonful of water in his stomach, and about two ounces in his lungs ;
and the like quantity in another they drowned ; that they both frothed
at the mouth and nose j and if bodies swam that had been lately killed,
he thought it was by accident : and he was of opinion, there could be
no water in the thorax, unless by an imposthume, or some violence to
nature.

Dr. Wollaston was of opinion, it was impossible to discover if a person
was drowned, six weeks afterwards $ and that if there had been never so
much water in the body, it must have forced its way out before that time:
that he knew two people drowned, and taken up next day ; one was ready
to burst with water, and the other had not the least sign of water in him,
except a watery froth at his mouth and nostrils.

Mr. Cooper, the anatomist, deposed, that three ounces of water, in the
windpipe, was enough to drown a person; and admitted, that bodies ne-
cessarily sink in water if no distention of their parts buoy them up : that
there could be no water remain in the body after six weeks' time ; and
it was ridiculous to expect any in the thorax, unless the lungs had suf-

314 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

fered some aposthumation -, and as to the rest, he concurred with the
physicians produced by the prisoner.

Then Mr. Cowper proceeded to call witnesses to show that the de-
ceased was a melancholy woman.

Mr. Bowd, a tradesman of Hertford, deposed, that observing the de-
ceased to be melancholy, he asked her, if she was in love ; and she
confessed she was ; but said, the world should not say she changed her
religion for a husband : and that, having lately bought a gown of this
witness, she said, she believed she should never live to wear it.

Mr. Firmin also testified, that the deceased was melancholy.

Mrs. Bendy deposed, that she acknowledged herself extremely melan-
choly, insomuch that her mind was disordered by it.

Mrs. Low; testified, that the deceased often complained she was melan-
choly, and confessed she was in love ; that she said she would take her
full swing of melancholy, when her mother was abroad, and lay a-bed
a week ; that at another time she said, her melancholy had occasioned
an intermitting fever j and being advised to send for a physician, she
said, her distemper lay in her mind, and not in her body : she would take
nothing, and the sooner it killed her, the better ; and that now she de-
lighted neither in reading or any thing else.

Then Mrs. Cowper, wife of the prisoner's brother, Mr. William Cow-
per, (afterwards Lord Chancellor,) being called as a witness, testified,

That she was frequently in the company of the deceased, both at Lon-
don and in the country, and she was extremely melancholy ; and the
witness suspecting it was upon Mr. Marson's account, asked, why she did
not marry him, and make herself easy ? but she said, she could not j
that she appeared disturbed also at the preaching of a Quaker waterman,
who gathered a rabble of people about him before her mother's door ;
and, preaching to them, arraigned her conduct ; that the deceased once
having a fever, said, she was in great hopes it would carry her off, and
neglected herself with that view, often wishing she were dead : that, at
another time, being very melancholy, the prisoner's wife said, for God's
sake keep such thoughts out of your head as you have had : talk no more
of throwing yourself out of a window. To which the deceased answered,
I may thank God that ever I saw your face, otherwise I had done it j but
I cannot promise I shall not do it,

Here Mr. Cowper proceeded to open another very singular and impor-
tant part of his evidence : he said, that being at Hertford in the long
vacation, and Mr. Marshall of Lyon's-Inn coming down to visit him there,
he introduced him into the company of the deceased, and he made his
addresses to her, and was well received as a lover j but walking out one
evening with Mr. Marshall, Mrs. Crooke, and the deceased, and Mr.
Marshall and Mrs. Crooke being a little before them, Mrs. Stout, (the
deceased) said to him, the prisoner, she did not think he had been so
dull ; and he, being inquisitive to know in what his dullness consisted ?
She answered, What ! Do you imagine I intend to marry Mr. Marshall?
And he replying, if she did not, she was to blame in what she had done.
Mrs. Stout said, No, I thought it might serve to divert the censure of
the world, and favour our acquaintance : and that he would produce
some letters to confirm this, after he had called Mr. Marshall.

Mr. Marshall deposed, that he came down to Hertford in the long va-
cation, to visit Mr. Cowper, and met with Mrs. Sarah Stout first at his
lodgings : that she gave him frequent opportunities of improving his

THE ARISTOCRACY. 315

acquaintance j and, by the manner of his reception, he had no reason to
suspect the use he was designed for; but, upon applying himself to her
afterwards, in a way of courtship, he received a very fair denial : and
there his suit ended. Mr. Cowper had been so friendly to give him no-
tice of some things, that convinced him he ought to be thankful he
had no more to do with her — • : that he took her at her word, when
she refused him, having partly, by his own observation, but more
by Mr Cowper's friendship, been pretty well able to guess at her
meaning.

Then two letters from the deceased, to Mr. Marshall, (the first dated
the 26th of December, 1697, the other without date,) were read, which
showed there was a friendly correspondence carried on between them,
but nothing more.

After which, Mr. Cowper produced a letter from the deceased to him-
self, but directed to Mrs. Jane Ellen at Hargrave's coffee-house, to pre-
vent suspicion ; which letter was in the following words :—

" Sir, March the 5th.

" I am glad you have not quite forgot that there is such a person as I in being ;
but I am willing to shut my eyes, and not see any thing that looks like unkindness
in you, and rather content myself with what excuses you are pleased to make,
than be inquisitive into what I must not know. I should very readily comply with
your proposition of changing the season, if it were in my power to do it ; but, you
know, that lies altogether in your own breast. I am sure the winter has been too
unpleasant for me to desire the continuance of it : and I wish you were to endure
the sharpness of it, but for one hour, as I have done for many long nights and
days, and then, I believe, it would move that rocky heart of yours, that can be so
thoughtless of me as you are ; but if it were designed for that end, to make the
summer the more delightful, I wish it may have the effect so far, as to continue
it to be so too, that the weather may never overcast again ; the which, if I could
be assured of, it would recompense me for all that I ever suffered, and make me
as easy a creature as I was the first moment I received breath ; when you come to

H pray let your steed guide you, and do not do as you did the last time ;

and be sure order your affairs to be here as soon as you can, which cannot be
sooner, than you will be heartily welcome to your Very sincere Friend."

For Mrs. Jane Ellen, at Mr. Haryrave' s, near Temple-Bar, London.

Then another letter from the deceased to the prisoner, dated the 9th
of March, was read, and is as follows : —

" Sir,

" I wrote to you by Sunday's post, which I hope you have received ; however,
as a confirmation, I will assure you, I know of no inconvenience that can attend
your cohabiting with me, unless the Grand Jury should thereupon find a bill
against us ; but I will not fly for it ; for come life, come death, I am resolved
never to desert, you ; therefore, according to your appointment, I will expect you,
aud then I shall only tell you that I am Yours, &c."

Mr. William Cowper, the prisoner's brother, was called to give evi-
dence for him : he said, he would bear his brother witness, that it was
with great unwillingness he produced those letters ; nothing but the
lives of those gentlemen who were tried with him, could have inclined
him to that.

He deposed further, that Mrs. Stout being in London, sent his brother
word she would give him a visit at his chamber : to prevent which, it
was contrived between him and his brother, that he (the witness) being

VOL. iv. NO. xviii. 2 A

316 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

to dine with Mrs. Stout at his father Cowper's in Hatton-Garden that
day, should take an opportunity to say that he (the prisoner) was gone to
Deptford ; and that the witness did mention it accordingly ; whereupon
Mrs. Stout, the deceased, rose up from dinner in confusion, and going
into the yard, there swooned away ; and they gave her such assistance as
was usual in such cases.

He also said, that his brother communicated the last letter to him on
Friday before the last assizes, and thinking, as the case stood, it was
better his brother should lie at his lodgings at Mr. Barefoot's at the
assizes, than at Mrs. Stout's, he did not write to Mr. Barefoot to dispose
of the lodgings to another.

Then Mrs. Barefoot testified, the prisoner lay at her house the night
the accident happened, and came in a little after eleven by the town
clock, and did not go out again that night : the maid of the house also
confirmed her mistress's evidence, and affirmed, that [the clock struck
twelve after the prisoner was in bed.

Mr. Cowper proceeded in his defence, and said, he would explain that
part of the evidence that was given by Sarah Walker, Mrs. Stout's
maid, where she said, her mistress ordered her to warm the bed, and he
never contradicted it : and desired the Court would observe those words
in the last letter, viz. " No inconvenience can attend your cohabiting
with me;" and afterwards, " I will not fly for it; for come life, come
death, I am resolved ;" from whence it might be conjectured, what the
dispute was between them at the time the maid mentioned; he thought
it was not necessary she should be present at this debate, and therefore
might not interrupt her mistress in the orders she gave ; but as soon as
the maid was gone, he offered these objections : he informed her by
what accident he was obliged to lodge at Mr. Barefoot's, and that the
family were sitting up for him : that his staying at her house under these
circumstances, would provoke the censure of town and country, and
therefore he could not stay, whatever his inclinations were ; but his rea-
sons not prevailing, he was forced to decide the controversy, by going to
his lodging ; so that the maid might swear true, when she said, he did
not contradict her mistress's orders.

He called witnesses, to show it was impossible he could be at the
drowning of Mary Stout, because he went away from her house a quarter
before eleven, and was at his inn, the Glove and Dolphin, before the
clock struck eleven, and it would take up above half an hour to go from
Mrs. Stout's to the place where she was drowned, and return to the

Glove Inn. And, calling Elizabeth Spurr as a witness, she testified,

that he came into the Glove Inn just as the clock struck eleven, and
staid there a quarter of an hour before he went to his lodgings : this
evidence was confirmed by two other servants of the Glove Inn.

Sir Thomas Lane and Sir William Ashurst said, that they had walked
over the ground above mentioned, and it took them up above half an
hour, a usual walking pace.

Mrs. Mince was then called as a witness, to disprove what Sarah
Walker had deposed, namely, that her mistress did not use to go out at
nights.

Mrs. Mince testified, that Sarah Walker told her, her mistress used to
entertain company in the summer-house in the night-time, unknown to
her mother ; that she used to go out at nights, and take the key with
her, and make her mother believe she was gone to bed ; and that one

THE ARISTOCRACY. 317

time she went out at the garden-window when the garden-door was
locked, and bade her not sit up for her, she would come in at her own
time ; and what time she came, she (the maid) said she did not know,
for she was gone to bed.

The prisoner called Sir William Ashurst, Sir Thomas Lane, Mr. Cox,
and Mr. Thompson, to his reputation, who all gave him a good cha-
racter ; and Mr. Cox said, he had lived by him in Southwark eight or
nine years, and knew him to be a person of integrity and worth, and all
the neighbourhood coveted his company j that he took him to have as
much honour and honesty as any gentleman whatever, and of all men he
knew, he would be the last man that he should suspect of such an act
as this : he believed nothing in the world could move him to entertain
the least thought of any thing so foul.

Here Mr. Marson entered upon his defence, and said,
Their business at Hertford was this : Mr. Ellis Stevens being Clerk of
the Papers, and Mr. Rogers, Steward of the King's Bench, were obliged
to wait upon the Lord Chief Justice out of town, with the Marshal of
the King's Bench ; and on the Monday he went with them to the Lord
Chief Justice's house in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, from whence they all set
out for Hertford ; but he (Marson) being an attorney of the Borough
Court, and having business there that day, when they came as far as
Kingsland, returned back to Southwark, where he attended the Court as
usual, and about four set out again for Hertford -, and on the way, at
Waltham-Cross, he met his acquaintance, Mr. Hanks, a clergyman, who
had been to attend the Chief Justice returning to London ; but he pre-
vailed on him to go back with him to Hertford, and they galloped every
step of the way, because night was coming on, and it was about eight
o'clock when they came to Hertford, and he might be in a sweat with
riding so hard ; but not in such a sweat as the witness testified : that
meeting with their friends Mr. Stevens, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Rudkin, and
other acquaintance of the Marshal's at the coffee-house, they went from
thence to the Glove and Dolphin, where they staid till about eleven j and
from thence, he and Mr. Stevens, and Mr. Rogers went to Gurrey's,
where they lodged, and drank three bottles of wine before they went to
bed, and had some jocular conversation with their landlord Gurrey j he
believed Mr. Stevens might ask him if he knew Mrs. Sarah Stout, and
what sort of woman she was ; and he believed he might say, my friend
may be in with her ; that Mr. Rogers also asked him (Maraou) what
money he had got that day ? meaning at the Borough Court, and he
answered, 50s. ; to which Rogers replied, we have been here spending
our money, I think you ought to treat us ! As to the bundle mentioned,
he knew of none, except a pair of sleeves and a neckcloth.
Mr. Rogers, in hi a defence, said—-
They came down with the Marshal of the King's Bench ; and, not
thinking Mr. Marson would have come that day, had not provided a
lodging for him : that they went from the coffee house to the tavern, as
Mr. Marson had related ; and there they had some merry and open dis-
course of this gentlewoman, but he never saw her, or heard her name
before she was mentioned there,

Mr. Stevens gave the same account of their going to Hertford.
Here one of the jurymen desired they might withdraw ; but the judge
told him, they must make an end first.

Mr. Jones said, the friends of the deceased would call some wit-

818 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY.

nesses to her reputation ; and he believed the whole town could attest
that she was a woman of a good reputation: indeed, the prisoners had
produced some letters without a name; but, if they insisted on anything
against her reputation, they must call witnesses.

Judge Hatsel answered, he believed nobody disputed that she might
be a virtuous woman, and her brains might be turned by her passion, or
some distemper. He then directed the jury.

The jury withdrawing for about half an hour, returned with their ver-
dict, that neither Mr. Cowper, nor any one of the other three prisoners,
were Guilty ; and thereupon they were all discharged.

Mrs. Stout; the mother of the deceased, being still unappeased, pro-
cured an appeal of murder to be lodged against the verdict, at the suit of
Henry Stout, the heir-at-law, a child ten years of age. Toller, the
Under-Sheriff of Herts, having made no return to this writ, accounted
to the Court of King's Bench for his neglect, by stating, that he had
given the writ to the appellant, who stated that he had burnt it. For
this, the under-sheriff was fined one hundred marks. Mrs. Stout then
petitioned the Lord Keeper for a new writ of appeal, but the time, a
year and a day, having elapsed for suing out a writ, her petition was, of
course, rejected.

Mr. Spencer Cowper was not prevented by the trial from attaining
rank and repute, both in his profession and in Parliament. On his bro-
ther's elevation to the woolsack, he succeeded him in the representation
of Beeralston, and sat afterwards for Truro ; adhered with inflexibility
to the Whig party, was a frequent and successful speaker, and one of the
managers in the impeachments of Sacheverell in 1710, and of the rebel
lords in 1716. On the accession of George the First, he was appointed
Attorney-General to the Prince of Wales ; in 1717, Chief Justice of Ches-
ter; and in 1727, a Judge of the Common Pleas, retaining, also by the
especial favour of the Crown, his former office until his death in Decem-
ber, 1728. His second son, John, as above stated, became the father of
William Cowper, the poet.

In a note to the State Trials, Mr. Spencer Cowper and Miss Stout
are stated to have been the Mosco and Zara of Mrs. Manley's New
Atalantis.

319

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

(Concluded.}

" Le pauvre en sa cabane, ou le chaume le couvre,

Est sujet a ses lois;

Et la garde qui veille aux barrieres du Louvre,
N'en defend pas nos Rois."

MALHERBE, in allusion to Death.

WITH the death of James II the romance of English history appears to
cease. The heroic achievements of the Plantagenets, the magnificence
of the Tudors, and the chivalry of the Stuarts, gave way at the Revolu-
tion to that common place and common sense mode of government,
which, whilst it contributed so much to the comfort and happiness of the
people, afforded but little scope for poetry or romance. Henceforward
we find the Sovereigns of England living and dying much like other
people. The mortal career of each is similar to that of any person of
rank and station in the realm ; it passes without personal difficulty
or danger from human causes, and the great debt of nature is paid
in the sick room. The crown of England no longer falls upon the
battle-field, nor is it yielded up in the dungeon or on the scaffold : our
princes, since the Revolution, have exercised their sway in an age of
reality and reason.

The death of MARY II, although her reign was subsequent, occurred
prior to that of her royal father whom she had supplanted on the throne,
and towards whom she had shown such heartlessness in the manner of
doing so. On the C21st December, 1694, Queen Mary was taken ill of the
small-pox at Kensington-palace, and the symptoms proving dangerous, she
prepared herself" for death with great composure. She spent some time in
exercises of devotion, and private conversation with the new archbishop .;
she received the sacrament with all the bishops who were in attendance ;
and expired on the C28th day of December, in the thirty-third year of her
age, and in the sixth of her reign, to the inexpressible grief of King
William, who, for some weeks after her death, could neither see com-
pany, nor attend to the business of state.

The Princess Anne being informed of the queen's dangerous indisposi-
tion, sent a lady of her bed-chamber, to desire she might be admitted to her
Majesty ; but this request was not granted. She was thanked for her
expression of concern ; and given to understand, that the physicians had
directed that the queen should be kept as quiet as possible. Before her
death, however, Mary sent a forgiving message to her sister : and after her
decease, the Earl of Sunderland effected a reconciliation between the
king and the princess, who visited him at Kensington, where she was
received with uncommon civility.

Queen Mary's obsequies were performed with great magnificence.
The body was attended from Whitehall to Westminster-abbey by all the
judges, serjeants-at-law, the lord mayor and aldermen of the city of
London, and both houses of parliament; and the funeral sermon was
preached by Dr. Tennyson, Archbishop of Canterbury : Dr. Kenn, the

320 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

deprived Bishop of Bath and Wells, reproached him in a letter, for not
having called upon her Majesty, on her death-bed, to repent of the share
she had in the Revolution. This was answered by another pamphlet.
One of the Jacobite clergy insulted the queen's memory, by preaching
on the following text : " Go now, see this cursed woman, and bury her,
for she is a king's daughter." On the other hand, the lord mayor,
aldermen, and common council of London, came to a resolution to erect
her statue, with that of the king, in the Royal Exchange.

WILLIAM III, naturally of a delicate constitution, had worn out his
health by his unceasing activity in the warlike business of his reign.
The immediate cause of his death, however, was an accident. On the
21st of February, 1701, in riding to Hampton-court from Kensington,
his horse fell under him, and he himself was thrown upon the ground
with such violence, as produced a fracture in his collar-bone. His
attendants conveyed him to the palace at Hampton- court, where the
fracture was reduced by Ronjat, his sergeant-surgeon. In the evening
he returned to Kensington in his coach, and the two ends of the frac-
tured bone having been disunited by the jolting of the carriage, were
replaced under the inspection of Bidloo, his physician. He seemed to
be in a fair way of recovering till the 1st day of March, when his knee
appeared to be inflamed, with acute pain and weakness. Next day he
granted a commission under the great seal to several peers, for passing
the bills to which both houses of parliament had agreed j namely, the
act of attainder against the pretended Prince of Wales, aria1 another in
favour of the Quakers, enacting, That their solemn affirmation and de-
claration should be accepted instead of an oath in the usual form.

On the 4th day of March the king was so well recovered of his lame-
ness, that he took several turns in the gallery at Kensington ; but, sitting
down on a couch where he fell asleep, he was seized with a shivering,
which terminated in a fever and diarrhoea. He was attended by Sir
Thomas Millington, Sir Richard Blackmore, Sir Theodore Colledon, Dr.
Bidloo, and other eminent physicians ; but their prescriptions proved in-
effectual. On the 6th he granted another commission for passing the
bill for the malt-tax, and the act of abjuration j and, being so weak that
he could not write his name, he, in presence of the lord-keeper, and the
clerks of parliament, applied a stamp prepared for the purpose. The
Earl of Albemarle arriving from Holland, conferred with him in private
on the posture of affairs abroad j but he received his information with
great coldness, and said, " Je tire vers ma fin? In the evening he
thanked Dr. Bidloo for his care and tenderness, saying, " I know that
you and the other learned physicians have done all that your art can do
for my relief ; but, finding all means ineffectual, I submit." He re-
ceived spiritual consolation from Archbishop Tennison, and Burnet,
Bishop of Salisbury ; on Sunday morning the sacrament was adminis-
tered to him. The lords of the privy council, and divers noblemen, at-
tended in the adjoining apartments, and to some of them who were ad-
mitted he spoke a little. He thanked Lord Auverquerque for his long
and faithful services : he delivered to Lord Albemarle the keys of his
closet and scrutoire, telling him he knew what to do with them. He
inquired for the Earl of Portland : but being speechless before that
nobleman arrived, he grasped his hand, and laid it to his heart, with
marks of the most tender affection. On the 8th day of March he expired,
in the fifty-second year of his age, after having reigned thirteen years.

.THK DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 321

The Lords Lexington and Scarborough, who were in waiting, no sooner
perceived that the king was dead, than they ordered Ronjat to untie from
his left arm a black ribbon, to which was affixed a ring, containing some
hair of the late Queen Mary. The body being opened and embalmed, lay
in state for some time at Kensington ; and on the 12th day of April was
deposited in a vault of Henry's chapel in Westminster-abbey.

The Jacobites loudly rejoiced at the death of William III. In answer
to the too famous toast of his party, they drank to the health of Sorrel,
meaning the horse that fell with the king : and, under the appellation of
the little gentleman in velvet, toasted the mole that raised the hill over
which the horse had stumbled. As the beast had formerly belonged to
Sir John Fenwick (executed for treason against the king), they insinuated
that William's fate was a judgment upon him, for his cruelty to that
gentleman ; and a Latin epigram was written on the occasion.

The good QUEEN ANNE (good as a sovereign, but graceless as a
daughter) had her death hastened by the fierce dissensions of her mi-
nisters. Regardless of the ill health and imminent danger of their
royal mistress, Oxford and Bolingbroke disturbed and protracted the
meetings of the council with their angry debates $ the Queen's strength
and patience sunk under these continual altercations, and her own words
to her ministers were, " Gentlemen, I shall not outlive it." Yet so
anxious was either party of obtaining advancement to power, that little
attention was paid to this warning from the regal sufferer ; yet she spoke
truly. After a meeting of the council on the subject of the dismissal
from office of the Treasurer Oxford, Queen Anne was seized with a
lethargic disorder. This distemper grew so fast, despite of medicine,
that the next day, the 30th July, 1714, her life was despaired of. As she
thus lay on her death-bed mighty events happened for England. The
Dukes of Shrewsbury and Argyle hastened unbidden to the council, and
seized the reins of power out of the hands of Bolingbroke and his abet-
tors. The last act of the Queen, who had somewhat rallied, was to de-
liver the white staff of the lord high treasurer to the Duke of Shrewsbury,
faintly uttering, as she did so, " Oh ! use it, my lord, for the good of
my people." Shrewsbury instantly set about defeating the suspected
intention of Lord Bolingbroke to restore the Stuarts, and prepared the way
for the easy accession of the House of Brunswick to the throne. The
Queen, in the meantime, relapsed into lethargic insensibility, and so
continued until the 1st of August, when she expired, in the fiftieth year
of her age, and the thirteenth of her reign. The activity of the Whig
lords at the moment of her demise, destroyed the chances of Jacobite
success, and contrived that her Majesty, despite of herself, should be the
last sovereign of the gallant but unfortunate house of Stuart.

GEORGE [ died whilst travelling to visit his favourite German domi-
nions: his death happened in 1727. The king had landed at Vaert, in
Holland, on the 7th June, and proceeded from thence to Utrecht by land,
being attended by the Dutch Guards through the territories of the
States. He arrived at Delder on Friday the 9th, about eleven o'clock at
night, in all appearance in perfect health. He ate his supper, and, among
other things, a part of a melon. Setting out about three the next morn-
ing, he had not travelled two hours before he felt some griping pains,
and being come to Linden, where his dinner was provided, could eat
nothing. He was let blood, and had such remedies as were thought
proper given him. Being desirous to reach Hanover, he bid his people

3^Z THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

drive on all with all speed ; and, falling into a lethargic paralysis, he said
to the gentleman in the carriage, " C'est fait de moi" At ten at night
he arrived at the palace of his brother, the Duke of York, at Osnaburg j
but his lethargy increasing, he expired about midnight. George I was
in the sixty-eighth year of his age, and reigned over Great Britain twelve
years, ten months, and ten days.

GEORGE II died very suddenly of a rupture of the aorta, at Kensing-
ton Palace, about seven o'clock in the morning of the 25th of Oc-
tober, 17^0. The king was a remarkably early riser, and on that
morning he, as usual, lighted his own fire, drank his chocolate, looked
out of the window to see how the wind was, and said that he would take
a walk in the gardens. His chocolate-maker, however, who was the
last person with his Majesty, observed him sigh as he left the room, and
shortly afterwards heard a noise like the falling of a billet of wood from
the fire, on vyhich he returned and found the king dropt from his chair,
as if he had been in the act of attempting to ring the bell. Proper
assistance was immediately procured, and he was put to bed, but without
any appearance of life, and in a very little while his death was certain.
He was in the seventy-seventh year of his age, and the thirty-fourth of
his reign.

The energetic life of GEORGE III had a sad conclusion. Dark indeed
was the shadow that set upon his declining years. In December, 18H,
the king became mentally dead. The period of glory that ensued was
unheeded by him. He who had so dearly loved England and her great-
ness, could no longer share in the triumphant rejoicings of his people.
His passage from this melancholy state of aberration into death was calm
and tranquil. His bodily health had continued good till within two or
three months of his dissolution ; but he had not enjoyed a lucid interval-
since the beginning of the Regency. His Majesty's recollection of past
events was exact ; and occasional sketches of his early ministers often
formed the subject of his lonely soliloquies at Windsor. He had long
been totally blind and almost deaf; and from the aversion he had to any
of his attendants rendering him personal assistance, his beard had been
suffered to grow to an almost patriarchal length. Before his deafness, he
frequently amused himself at the harpsichord, and seldom played any-
thing but the music of his favourite Handel. The Duke of York, Lords
Henley and Winchelsea, and General Taylor, were present when the king
died. The tolling of the bell at St. Paul's towards midnight on the 29th
January, 1820, announced that George III was no more; and although
the mercy of Providence, in his removal, could not but be acknowledged,
men sighed when the news brought with it the recollection of what he
once had been. His death happened in the eighty-second year of his
age, and the sixtieth of his reign.

The very eclat that attached to the personal appearance and manners
of GEORGE IV, made him shrink into himself when came the period of
disease and infirmity. His latter life was in seclusion : his death-bed
was in solitude. No relation attended at his last moments, and, as with
Henry VIII, the fatal news was broken to him by his physician. The
details of his demise are these.

For many years, the king had been scarcely ever free from the gout,
but its attacks had been resisted by the uncommon strength of his con-
stitution. His life had, in consequence, been retired. During the spring
of 1829 he resided at St. James's Palace, where he gave a ball to the

THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND. 3*23

juvenile branches of the nobility, to which the Princess Victoria and the
young Queen of Portugal were invited. Mostly his time was spent
within the limits of the royal domain at Windsor : his out- door amuse-
ments consisted of sailing and fishing on the Virginia- Water, or a drive
in a pony-phaeton in the magnificent purlieus of the forest. When the
weather was unfavourable, the light reading of the day, or the drama,
was resorted to. Almost uninterrupted attacks of illness disturbed his
seclusion, while they offered an inducement to its continuance. Pains of
the eyes, and defective vision, gout in the feet and hands, and, lastly, the
great malady of his family, dropsy — to which the Duke of York and his
sister had fallen victims, — by turns befel him. In April, his malady as-
sumed a decisive character, and bulletins began to be issued. He had
reached his sixty-eighth year, a term rarely allotted to the wearer of a
crown. In May, a commission was appointed to affix the royal signa-
ture j the king signifying his consent by the word of mouth. Before his
death, it was with difficulty he could whisper his verbal affirmative;
about a week before he died, his physician delicately announced to him
the inevitable catastrophe. " God's will be done f" was the reply. The
king's faculties continued unimpaired to the last moment. On admini-
tering to him the last sacrament, the Bishop of Chichester reminded him
of the Duke of Sussex ; when the king charged the prelate, after his
death, to carry a message to the duke, saying all offences were forgotten,
and to assure him of fraternal affection. His Majesty's sufferings were
very great ; during the paroxysms of pain, his moans were heard even
by the sentinels on duty in the quadrangle.* On the night of the 25th,
his cough was unusually painful, and he motioned a page to alter his
position on his couch. Toward three o'clock he felt a sudden attack of
the bowels, a violent discharge of blood ensued, and his Majesty, on being
taken from the bed, appeared to be fainting; At this moment he attempted
to raise his hand to his breast, and faintly ejaculated, " Oh, God ! I am
dying/' and two or three seconds after, he said, " This is death." The
king was removed to his couch, and the physicians called. Before they
arrived, the glaze of death was over the eyes of the monarch, and
George the Fourth had ceased to breathe. This occurred on the 26th
June, 1830. The king had been regent since 1811, and sovereign since
1820.

The kind and good KING WILLIAM had a truly Christian death. He
departed from life amid the general and unfeigned lamentations of his
subjects. His Majesty expired at twelve minutes past two o'clock, on
Tuesday morning, the 20th June, 1837, in the presence of the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, the Dean of Hereford, and other dignitaries. On
the previous Sunday he received the sacrament from the Archbishop.
He had expressed a wish to survive the anniversary of the battle of Wa-
terloo on the 18th, and so far he was gratified. The Duke of Wellington
came, and laid upon his bed the flag commemorative of the victory, by
which act his grace has tenure of Strathfieldsay. It was also a singular
circumstance, that one of the last deeds of the dying king, whose life had
been so mild and merciful, was to sign the pardon of a condemned cri-
minal. Shortly after this, a distressing1 cough, extreme oppression in
breathing, and very languid circulation, left little hope of recovery. He
was lethargic, but conscious to the last of the presence of those on whom

* How forcibly does this prove the truth of the quotation from the poet Malherbe, a
the head of this article !

324 THE DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF ENGLAND.

his affections were fixed. He was fervent in his expressions of religious
hope, and just before breathing his last, faintly articulated, " Thy will be
done." Queen Adelaide had been unremitting in her attentions j was
scarcely ever absent from the sick chamber, and for twelve days did not
take off her clothes. The humblest person in the realm could not have
exceeded her in the exercise of the last said duties of affection, and in the
kind offices she rendered to her afflicted consort. A post mortem exami-
nation showed the nature of the disease ; exhibiting a general tendency
to ossification and decay about the heart, the lungs, and other vital organs.
His Majesty was in the seventy-third year of his age, and had completed
within a few days the seventh year of his reign.

With this peaceful death of William IV our subject concludes ; it
may have been long, but the theme is cerfainly one of interest — one that
ought to make men pause, and think, and know, that even the puissance
of potentates is a passing shadow, and that this life, though the diadem
of empires may glitter around it, is but the nothingness of nothing.

A PROBLEM IN CHESS POETICALLY SOLVED.

Position of THE WHITES. — The King in the Black King's Bishop's place;
Queen's Rook in his Queen's place ; King's Rook in his King's Bishop's place ;
King's Knight in his King's Bishop's third square ; King's Pawn in his King's
fourth square. THE BLACKS. — The King in his third square; King's Pawn in
his King's fourth square ; Queen in the white Queen's Rook's fourth square ;
Queen's Rook in his Queen's Knight's second square ; Queen's Knight in her
Bishop's third square ; King's Knight in his King's Rook's third square ; Queen's
Rook's Pawn in his Rook's second square ; Queen's Knight's Pawn in his Queen's
Knight's third square ; King's Rook in his King's Knight's third square. The
White Men have the Move.

SOLUTION.

The White Knight moves to the Castle Wall,

To bid the Black King yield ;
But the frowning turrets proudly sweep

The bold Knight from the field.

But now the White King's Castle threats

The bold Black monarch's throne ;
But the Monarch moves, and in his strength

Hurls all the Castle down.

One moment's triumph allowed the King,

He stands in kingly pride ;
But falls by a shaft from a moving tower,

But one space from his side.

Totterridge. ROBERT SHEDDEN SCIUMGEOUR.

325

HISTORIC RUINS.

at Btlcolman.

" Lift not thy spear against the Muses' home,
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus when temple and tower
Went to the ground ; and the repeated air
Of sad Electra's port had the power
To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare."

MILTON.

THERE are few ruins in Ireland possess more interesting reminiscenses
than Kilcolman Castle, the house of Edmund Spencer. Other spots
may be recommended by sounding names, pompous titles, or warlike
achievements j we pass them by. Here, within these blackened walls,
was achieved more lasting fame than all the herald's honours can
convey, more brilliant feats of war than ever knightly lists displayed to
an applauding world. The proud races have lived and died and are
forgotten, or perhaps remembered with contempt for the vices with
which they sullied their birth. Deeds of blood mark the ruthless career
that prevented the advance of civilization — the spread of industry — the
flowing of the bright stream of intelligence amongst their countrymen ;
but the power of the gifted being who dwelt on this spot of land which,
my eyes now traverse, is remembered with pleasure, and recurred to
with delight. The verses of Spencer are alive to-day, though two hun-
dred and two score years have elapsed since his death. His constant
labours, within these walls are recollected, though, bare and exposed, they
tremble in the blast. This is the great privilege of genius — to ennoble
the lowly — to exalt the humble — to perpetuate the memory of the gifted.
Nations disappear from the world — cities rise and fall — temples and
palaces sink into a common grave, and are forgotten ; but the song of a
blind beggar, dead full two thousand five hundred years, preserves the
fame of Troy, although no trace exists to mark its foundation.
A dull and shallow river glides along the plain, and presents no
object to excite the slightest emotion j but when you remember
that it is the Scamander sacred to poetry, and the mystic rites
of the ancients, the feelings are aroused and memories of the
days that are gone crowd upon the brain. Thus it is with Kilcol-
man. As a mere building it is nothing. Fragment of a tower blackened
by time and fire. A few walls contiguous hang tremulously together,
forming chambers half choked by the encroaching mould and weeds
that grow from the earthen floors. The situation at present is forbidding
enough. The castle stands on a slightly elevated mound, in an undu-
lating country, about three miles from Buttevant, county Cork. A rough
and uncared-for causeway leads from the high road past some scattered
cabins, through a farm yard. Thence a pathway leads by the verge of a
small piece of water, luxuriating in the opaque hue imparted by the ver-

326 HISTORIC RUINS.

dant mud with which the bottom is coated, and unshaded by tree or
flower. But towering over all stands the castle, and undoubtedly, the
interest which the lone ruin creates, asserts the superiority of intellectual
renown. The poetic visiter speedily invests it with suitable attractions.
The mullioned window frames display the glories of emblazoned panes,
reflecting the light of day in many a varied hue. The rooms are such
as a poet might wish to dwell in, flowers bloom in vases of alabaster,
and books and statues bespeak the tasteful possessor. As we climbed
the stair, recollection of the days when Raleigh dwelt here, the guest of
Spencer, came o'er us, as we looked through the ivy curtained casement,
and beheld a scene around, which in all, save the presence of trees and
occasional flight of imagination, suggesting additional charms, might be
fairly enough described in these lines —

" It was an hill plaste in an open plaine,
That round about was bordered with a wrood,
Of matchlesse higlit, that seem'd the earth to disdaine ;
In which all trees of honour stately stood.
And did all winter as in summer bud,
Spreading pavilions for the birds to bowre,
Which in their lower branches sung aloud ;
And on their tops the soringe hawke did towre,
Sitting like king of fowles in maissty and powre.

And at the foote thereof a gentle flood
His silver waves did softly tumble downe —
Unmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud,
Ne mighte wylde beaste, ne mote the ruder clown,
There to approach ; ne filthe mote thereon drowne,
But Nymphs and Fairies by the banks did sit,
In the woods shade which did the waters crowne,
Keeping all noysome things away from it,
And to the waters fall tuning their accents fit."

The hill still remains, and the open plain spreads its green bosom for the
sunbeams to nestle. The river still tumbles his silver waves free from
all impurities ; but the sweet songster is silent — the nymphs and
fairies are fled, and

" The wood's shade which did the waters crowne,"

have long since ceased to cast their boughs to the wind.

The history of Kilcolman Castle is brief. It was a fortalice belonging to
the Fitz-Geralds, Earls of Desmond, and, on the attainder of Gerald the re-
nowned rebel in Queen Elizabeth's reign, escheated to the crown. The es-
tates of this puissant lord were said to have extended one hundred and fifty
miles in length throughout the province of Munster, and afforded a
plentiful harvest to the successful undertakers, who were willing to be-
come planters in the Hibernian colony. There was no lack of needy
men — soldiers of fortune — men of good connexions and small means —
hangers-on of the great in England who eagerly sought for the prizes in
fortune's wheel. Spencer's poetical talents had made for him powerful
friends about the gay court of Queen Elizabeth, and they were willing
to serve him. Accordingly a grant of the forfeited lands to the extent
of 3028 acres was procured, through the influence of the Earl of Leices-
ter, Lord Grey of Wilton, and Sir Philip Sydney. He seems to have

HISTORIC RUINS. 3C27

lost no time in taking possession, for we find the attainder of the Earl
and Spencer's arriving, at Kilcolman, noticed in the same year 1586.
When we remember the career he spent, his noble soul and high aspira-
tion, we do not wonder at his haate to enjoy independence. Accus-
tomed to the hard fate of attendance on the courtiers, whom he was
compelled to address in the humility of a dependant, obliged to cringe
and natter men whose intellects he well knew were so far beneath his
own, doomed to repay for the daily food which sustained life,- eulogistic
verses which he knew were beneath the glorious outburst of a genius
longing to fling forth its ample stores on some work more suited than
adulatory sonnets, the wonder indeed is how he had patience and reso-
lution to bear it. That he felt most intensely the degrading chains he
wore is powerfully told by himself —

" Full little knowest them, that hast not tried,
What hell it is in sueing long to bide :
To loose good days that might be better spent ;
To waste long nights in pensive discontent ;
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow,
To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow;
To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers ;
To have thy asking, yet wait manie years.
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares,
To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs,
To fawne, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to ronne,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undone :
Unhappy wight borne to disastrous end,
That doth his life in so long tendance spend."

Freedom to the captive — liberty to the slave — a reprieve to the culprit
about to expiate his crime on the scaffold, are blissful events, but not
more so than the feeling of independence in a mind like Spencer's — the
haven of repose after the sea of troubles he so perseveringly buffetted
through. Some of the writers who have mentioned his career, com-
passionate the fate that banished him into Ireland — an "exile from
necessity not choice," and unquestionably he was well suited to orna-
ment the court of the Queen, thronged as it then was by the great
pioneers of civilization whose fame has descended to our time, sparkling
and pure as the living water which falls from a perpetual spring.

To Jose the society of Bacon, Shakespeare, Raleigh, Sydney, and the
famed warriors, statesmen and philosophers who swelled the blaze of
glory, that casts its brilliancy over the era, must have been a sore trial,
but it was better to do so, and I have no doubt the world were the
gainers. The uncertainty of mind in which Spencer lived in London,
his anxiety to raise himself above the servile position in which his want
of fortune placed him, must ever have prevented his undertaking any
great consecutive work, therefore it is to the grant of his estate of Kil-
colman, to his residence here, removed from the distractions of a London
life, the dissipations of the court, the interruptions of his associates, that
we owe the composition of the"Fairie Queene," the most superb allegori-
cal work that human brain ever conceived. The glorious thoughts and
sublime images here pourtrayed are the genuine emanations of a spirit
walking forth from the cares and anxieties of this world, into a region of
etherial brightness and beauty. An intense lover of nature, the scenery

3*28 HISTORIC RUINS.

around found him a true votary at every picturesque shrine. The
mountains he called by some poetical name suggested by their appear-
ance or locality ; and are immortalized in verse. The Ballyhowra range,
he denominated the mountain of Mole 5 the river Awbeg, which flows
by their base, the Mulla —

" And Mulla mine whose waves I whilom taught to weep."

The high peak of the Gaiters near the glen of Aherlow, he called Arlo
hill, and introduces a most glowing description of the source of the
Brackbown, which he calls Molanna. Indeed nearly all the surrounding
country is noticed in one or other of his poems. Spencer early had his
attention turned towards the political state of Ireland. Although four
hundred years had elapsed since the arrival of the English, it was most
extraordinary how little progress was made in the bringing the Irish
under English rule. As Spencer remarks in his view of the state of
Ireland — "There be many wide countries in Ireland which the laws of
England were never established in, nor any acknowledgement of subjec-
tion made, and also even in those which are subdued and seem to ac-
knowledge subjection, yet the Brehen law is practised." It would be
altogether foreign to our present purpose to enter into a disquisition on
the causes which led to this state of things ; but Spencer left his views
on the subject, and although many are tinged deeply with the absolutism
of the times, such as having martial law always ready to keep the lower
orders in subjection, several of his opinions are exceedingly correct. One
I beg to refer to. The manner in which churches, Protestant and Ro-
man Catholic have been built and repaired of late years affords a strong
and glaring contrast to the elegant structures which the taste and piety
of our forefathers reared. The barn-looking erections of our times stand-
ing often in unseemly juxta-position with the stately ruins of antiquity,
suggest comparisons no way creditable to modern taste. Spencer says —
" Next care in religion is to build and repayre all the ruined churches,
whereof the most part lye even with the ground, and some that have
been lately repayred, are so unhandsomely patched, and thatched, that
men doe even shonne the places for the uncomliness thereof; therefore
I would wish that there were order taken to have them built in some
better form, according to the churches of England j for the outward
show doth greatly drawe the rude people to the reverencing and fre-
quenting thereof."

The opportunities which Spencer had of making himself well ac-
quainted with Ireland, and such portions of the country as then owned
the English authority, were very considerable. He had filled the
office of Secretary to Lord Grey of Wilton, when that nobleman was Lord
Deputy. He had also an appointment in the Irish Court of Chancery.
During his sojourn in Munster from 1586 to 1598, when his troubles
came thick upon him, he devoted himself to fulfilling the duties of-a
country gentleman very actively, and must have established a high posi-
tion in the country, as in the last named year he was recommended
sheriff for the county of Cork. But the atmosphere of Ireland was
charged with the electricity of war, and the spark now convulsed the
whole kingdom. The terrible scourgings which the unhappy natives had
received, almost depopulated the fairest provinces. Spencer thus de-
scribes Munster : —

" Notwithstanding that the same most rich and plentiful country, full

HISTORIC RUINS.

of corn and cattle, yet in one year and a half, they were brought to
such wretchednesse so that any stony heart would rue the same. Out
of every corner of the woods and glynes they came creeping forth upon
their handes, for their legs could not bear them : they looked like ana-
tomies of death; they spake like ghosts crying out of their graves, they
did eat the dead carrion, happy were they could find them, yea, and one
another soon after, insomuch, as the very carcasses they spared not to
scrape out of their graves, and if they found a plot of watercresses or
shamrocks, there they flocked as to a feast fo* a time, yet not able to
continue there withal ; that in a short space, there was none almost left,
and a most populous and plentiful country suddenly left void of man
and beast."*

The English Lord Deputy at this time, Perrott, was a wise statesman,
and brave soldier, but his intentions were frustrated, and his views de-
feated by the agents of his government, who only looked to enrich them-
selves by the plunder of the natives. Leland, who cannot be accused of
any bias towards the Irish, relates numerous instances of the rapacity
and atrocity of the officials, to whom the administration of affairs was
committed in the provinces. — " Sheriffs and other officers of Justice
entering the several counties attended with large bodies of armed men,
pillaging the inhabitants whom they affected to despise, terrifying them
with their military train, and rendering the execution of law odious
and oppressive : so as to confirm their aversion from a system accepted
with reluctance."

This spirit of aggression and insult provoked resistance, especially in
the province of Ulster, which had, previously to Elizabeth's reign, held
out against the Lord Deputy and the English rule. Being at length
induced to accept the laws of England, and place themselves under the
protection of the system of jurisprudence so strongly recommended as a
substitute for the Brehen code, they were grievously disappointed to find
the execution of these laws entrusted to men who exercised their power
with insolence and oppression. They speedily shook off the intolerable
yoke, and had recourse to their old habits and chieftains for protection.
Religion was infused with sectarian feelings, and hatred to Roman Ca-
tholics formed an additional feature in the dissensions between the Eng-
lish and Irish. The war, which had been smouldering for some time,
burst forth with fury. The Earl of Tyrone combined with the other
lords of Ulster ; and the fearful atrocities committed on both sides, stain
the pages of Ireland's history. The act which more particularly concerns
our present subject is so exquisitely narrated by a gifted friend, whose
contributions have frequently graced our pages, that we cannot forbear
quoting him. After drawing a sweet family group in colours Morland
would have envied, could that exquisite English painter have used words
instead of tints, he thus continues! his account of Spencer. " It was a

* Spencer's State of Ireland, p. 158. Does not the perusal of this description of Ire-
land in 1580, which so painfully depicts the state of this very province (Minister), in this
very year 1847, suggest grave reflections to the reader's mind. At the period in which
Spencer wrote, Ireland was not brought under English government. These provinces
kept constantly asserting their independence, and their rebellions were incessant, but in
our time it is otherwise. For half a century Ireland has been obedient to the govern-
ment. How comes it then that the picture so hideously painted for the days of her dis-
loyalty is a fitting representative of her united state ?

f Dublin University Magazine, November 1843.

330

HISTORIC RUINS.

lovely day in the autumn of the year, and the sun was now westering his
course towards the remote hills ; and that young couple sat there, watch-
ing with unspeakable rapture the magnificent sun's going down: and the
declining rays glistened on the surface of a small calm lake near them,
and further off were multiplied in the waters of a winding river, which
sparkled in them like burnished steel or silver. Then like a thick black
curtain, darkness was slowly drawn over their prospect, and after a little
while were heard tones of the evening hymn, and a low calm voice
pleaded humbly in prayer, and soon after all sounds ceased, and the in-
mates of the castle were hushed in repose : then succeeded an hour or
two of stillness, and after that was borne to us on the night wind the
tramp of a thousand feet ; and louder they grew and yet louder, and they
drew near that lonely building. "And rude knocking was heard at the
gate, and the passage was forced in j and lights flared up on all sides j
and there were shrieks and groans, and commingling cries of men engaged
in deepest battle. And savage numbers prevailed, and the application
for mercy was met by the sweep of the broadsword; or the thrust of the
skein, or the low short laugh of derision. And the tumult grew less,
and the cries died away, and then all was hushed in the silence of
death.''

The castle was burned by the insurgents, and one of Spencer's sons
perished in the flames. The poet, his wife, and two little ones escaped ;
but the days of Spencer were numbered, he could not survive the wreck
of his fortune. Disease, fever, preyed upon his busy brain, he died in
1589, and his fame is commemorated in Westminster Abbey.

With reverence we bade adieu to the scenes of his joys and sorrows,
of his glorious works and his bitter pangs ; and thought, such is the che-
quered fate that man, in whatever position placed, must endure until he
enters everlasting happiness or misery.

331

DEVOTION.

A TALE.

IN smiling lawn, by elms o'erspread,

An humble dwelling raised its head,

In vines and clust'ring roses wreathed,

Of peace its simple beauty breathed :

'Midst groves of flow'ring shrubs it stood,

The distance bounded by a wood

Of beech and pine, of ash and oak,

O'er which the storms of ages broke.

They bowed beneath the tempest's rage,

Which still had spared their green old age.

A lovely lake lay on the right,

With winding shore and bosom bright ;

While lofty hills, with rugged brow,

Sheltered the smiling scene below.

Nursed in this fair romantic spot,

Young Fanny blest her happy lot !

She graced a dear loved father's side,

Alike his darling and his pride ;

Her native feelings, tender heart,

Had never known one touch of art ;

Her form, of nature's loveliest mould :

Her clust'ring ringlets tinged with gold,

Played round a brow serenely fair,

Unclouded by a single care ;

Her joyous smile, so sweetly gay,

Was soft as parting sunbeams' ray ;

Her eyes in modest lustre shone,

And brightened all they looked upon.

Sole comfort of her father's life,

For he had lost a cherished wife ;

In giving Fanny birth, she died,

He never had her place supplied ;

Since, all unlike his fellow men,

He did not wish to wed again.

That wife was shrined within his heart,

When doomed by ruthless death to part ;

He kept alive with jealous care,

Her image love had planted there.

Though withering in the silent tomb,

Again she lived in Fanny's bloom ; '

And when that little darling smiled,

He saw his Marian in her child.

VOL. IV. NO. XVIII. 2 B

332 DEVOTION.

This treasure left — he still was blest :

Twas resignation soothed his breast.

Once merchant in a prosperous trade,

Both character and wealth he made.

Then to the country he repaired,

Where he his'little daughter reared.

As years flew by, his Fanny grew,

In virtue and in beauty too.

Amidst her shrubs, her birds, and flowers,

She passed gay childhood's happy hours.

Her father every winter sought

The city, to have Fanny taught

Accomplishments, of every kind,

And studies to improve her mind.

But Fanny blessed the welcome day,

Which called them from the town away,

And brought them to their mountain home,

Where she, from morn 'till night might roam.

She hailed the sweet return of spring,

With hope and life upon its wing,

Whose breath awoke her own fair flowers,

That slept away the wintry hours,

And called them from their frozen tomb,

To blush once more in new-born bloom.

She long'd again, each bud to view,

Glittering in the morning dew ;

Before the brilliant orb of day

Had chased the pearly drops away ;

Within the city's gloomy round

Those simple pleasures were not found.

Far happier in her lone retreat,

Those guileless hours were but too fleet !

Within a mile of Fanny's home,

A castle stood, whose lofty dome

Proclaimed its lord of high degree,

Descended from nobility.

Of woods and splendid parks possess'd,

Cold haughty feelings ruled his breast :

He thought e'en worth could boast no claim,

Without high birth and ancient name.

His lady several children bore,

Whom death had now reduced to four ;

Three of them had their father's mind,

But Henry was both good and kind ;

He was the youngest of the whole ;

His true nobility of soul

In every thought and deed appeared,

Which made him loved — the rest were feared !

In figure he surpassed them all,

Of gallant bearing, stature tall ;

Possessing every manly grace,

While feeling marked his handsome face.

DEVOTION. 333

In his young school days' long career,
He hailed vacation every year ;
Which to his home, each boy recalls,
And brought him to his father's halls.
What happy scenes rose to his view,
The lake, the woods — and Fanny too !
Full many a year he shared her plays,
For they had loved from childhood's days.
How often on a summer's eve
Would he, his father's castle leave,
And soon the boat upon the lake,
He'd row across for Fanny's sake ;
His youthful bosom beating high,
When her neat cottage met his eye —
To him a heaven of peace and rest,
With her the mistress of his breast !
Who bright as poet ever feigned,
Queen of his youthful fancy reigned.
Their evenings past in converse sweet,
Unheeded in love's calm retreat ;
Until the gentle moon's soft ray,
Reminded him to haste away ;
Full oft he lingered at the door,
Or strolled with Fanny to the shore
Of that fair lake he must pass o'er.
While Funny on her father's arm,
Lent to the scene a dearer charm.
Thus time flew by, on love's bright wing
Nor left one doubt to cloud their spring.
Though hid, like violet in the shade,
Yet many a suitor sought the maid ;
A rich man wooed her for his bride,
But she his love had oft denied ;
A house in town great wealth and land,
Awaited but fair Fanny's hand.
Ah ! what availed his proffered gold,
To her, whose heart could not be sold.

Henry's was the valued treasure ;
For her, ambition had no pleasure ;
Her lover's worth alone she prized,
And he sweet Fanny idolized.
For years he loved the gentle maid,
While she each tender thought repaid :
Her father prized the generous youth,
Whose noble brow was stamped with truth.
But fortune seldom love befriends,
And oft some cruel barrier sends,
To chase the visions of our youth
When hope assumes the guise of truth !
Now Henry was a younger son,
And had not much to call his own ;
He often had his father prayed,
To let him wed the lovely maid.

2 B 2

334 DEVOTION.

But he replied in angry tone,

" That son he ever would disown,

Who thoughtless of his rank and pride,

Should from the city seek a bride."

He bade him chuse a soldier's life,

For she should never be his wife !

'Twas useless such false hopes to nurse,

Unless he'd feel a father's curse !

'Twas destined, — he should go next day,

And vain to plead — he must away.

Henry that night his true love sought,

Victim of agonizing thought ;

That dreadful tale he must unfold,

Yet knew not how it could be told !

Fanny with woman's quickness guessed

Some grief was lab'ring in his breast :

Her hand he grasped— then turn'd aside

His bosom's agony to hide.

Next moment pressed her to his heart

And murmured, — we are doomed to part, —

But no, 'tis vain — the Powers above

Can only part me from my love ! —

In faltering accents Fanny cried

" I see it all, — your father's pride

Has destin'd two fond hearts to sever,

And Henry — we must part for ever \"

" O say not so, — my cherish' d love,

Though cruel parents disapprove,

They cannot part us ! — hearts are free,

Who shall divide my love and me ?"

Fanny, as drooping lily pale,

Which shrinks beneath the with'ring gale,

Vainly essay'd to speak her woes,

Till woman's pride at length arose.

4' Henry, — in this sad parting hour,

'Twere vain I should deny your power,

That love which from our childhood grew,

This heart can only feel for you.

Yet though thy Fanny's humbly born,

She'll not deserve thy father's scorn :

Nor shall he ever mourn his son,

By her who loved him most undone !

Yes Henry, — we must part e'en now,

In spite of every tender vow,

I am too weak alas ! as yet

To bid you all our love forget !"

" No, Fanny no, life I'll resign,

E'er I renounce thy vows and mice !

'Tis vain as cruel thus to speak,

Nor could I think thy love so weak,

As thus to shrink before the blast,

When clouds our destinv o'ercast.

DEVOTION. 335

Then promise dearest e'er we part,

That I shall live in that lov'd heart !

I ask but this — thy love to test f

Then, hope triumphant in my breast,

I'll brave the war, the stern decree,

While Fanny lives, and lives for me !"

Condemn her not, if in that hour,

Her reason slept — and love had power

To win the promise which he claimed ;

Though even then her reason blamed.

He pressed her in a last embrace,

And wildly kissed her pale cold face ;

Then gazed upon her matchless charms,

As she sank lifeless in his arms.

" Oh cruel fate ! how can I part,

From her, the life spring of my heart ?

Yet I must go, — for Fanny's sake,

Ere she to consciousness awake."

Her father took his hapless child,

While Henry's air became more wild ;

Again he turned one more caress,

And knelt that Fanny's sire might bless.

Then rushing through the cottage door,

Which he must never enter more,

He paused a moment for relief,

In all the hopelessness of grief.

Those trees, those shrubs, each well known flower,

That slumber'd in the moonlight hour,

All breath'd of Fanny's taste and care :

And filled his bosom with despair ?

Next day his father's halls he left,

Of all but youthful hope bereft.

********

Years in their course could not impart

Forgetfulness to Fanny's heart.

Her father tried each art in vain,

And she was grieved to cause him pain ;

Then often sought to chase his fears,

By smiling on him, through her tears,

Yet faintly, like a sunbeam's ray,

Struggling through mists on wintry day,

A moment its sweet smiles appear,

Then leaves the prospect but more drear ! —

Few would revert to Henry's name,

But yet 'twas borne on wings of fame.

She wept to think that one so dear

Might fall in battle's wild career.

His letters, though with rapture prest,

And treasured in her faithful breast,

Served but its sorrow to renew,

For one so tender and so true.

Now Henry had been gone two years,

Numbered by faithful Funny's tears,

336 DEVOTION.

For never can that source be dry,

Which springs from love's fond memory !

Yet still she strove to seem resigned

As she observed her father pined :

And oft his solitude she sought

"When he seemed wrapt in gloomy thought.

One morn she found him cold and pale,

With scarcely strength to speak his tale :

Tidings had reached him by the post,

That all their former wealth was lost,

Gone by an unexpected stroke —

A friend had failed, his bank was broke.

Too soon their cruel landlord sent,

To sell their cottage for the rent.

An execution came that day ;

'Midst scenes like these they cannot stay.

And must they leave that cherished spot,

Where they had bless'd their happy lot ?

Where every walk and shady grove, >

Were records of her early love ?

Alas ! her tears could not avail,

She saw her father lodged in jail,

Where she with filial duty strove

To soothe him with a daughter's love :

Yet secret grief prey'd on her frame,

No news from her loved Henry came ;

Alas ! could he forsake her now ?

Had he forgot his plighted vow ?

She knew not letters were supprest,

Which might console her aching breast ;

His cruel father's gold had paid

Those wretches, who their love betray'd,

And soon he had the rumour spread,

That Henry slumber' d with the dead !

She heard, — and sank beneath the stroke ;

Weeks passed, ere she to reason woke !

And from that hour, a settled gloom,

Seemed her young beauty to consume,

Stealing each day, some former grace ;

While sorrow marked her lovely face.

Her voice had lost its joyous tone,

And e'en her sunny smile was flown !

Like some fair flower of genial soil,

Which chilling tempests break and spoil ;

It never more can raise its head, ^

Or blossom in the parterre bed.

Thus Fanny never more shall bloom,

Like spring's young leaves from wintry tomb,

Or blush again in summer bower, ,

The wither'd heart or broken flower.

And soon another sorrow came,

The rich man urged his former flame,

DKVOTION. 337

And said, " he heard of their distress,
Which could not make his passion less ;
Fair Fanny's love was all he sought."
And must poor Fanny's love be bought ?
Like any other worthless thing,
Be bartered for a purse and ring ?
She tried to school her heart, in vain—-
With love, it ne'er could beat again.
But can she see her father lie,
Within a prison's walls to die ?
No — she would selfish thoughts disown,
And buy his freedom with her own.
She soon became the rich man's wife,
To save her parent's cherished life.
And when the sacrifice was made,
Her father's debts he quickly paid.
Her husband had a common mind,
Yet he was generous, good and kind ;
And sought to purchase by his wealth,
Poor Fanny's peace, her father's health ;
But fruitless all, — no skill could save,
The old man slept within the grave.
Fanny the bitter cup had drained,
No motive now her life sustained ;
And daily drooped her lovely form,
Like tender plant beneath the storm !
Her peace was gone, her step grew weak,
Though blushes mantled on her cheek ;
Alas ! consumption's chilly breath
Had blighted her for early death,
And lent that false, though lovely bloom,
Like roses on a marble tomb :
It seemed so fresh — her face so fair,
You'd never dream that death was there !
And still her golden ringlets wave,
Like garlands o'er a maiden's grave 1
Shading that forehead marked with care,
They seemed alas ! as mock'ry there !
Her blue eyes shone with brilliant ray,
Ling'ring o'er beauty's sad decay ;
Beneath that pure and polished brow,
As lights within a ruin now.
Like those bright stars that love to shine,
O'er noble temples, once divine,
Lighting awhile the mould'ring scene,
To show, what once the shrine had been.
'Twas evening of an autumn day,
And on a couch poor Fanny lay ;
It had been to a casement drawn,
That she might see the verdant lawn ;
She always loved that silent hour,
Wafting the breath of every flower ;

338 DEVOTION.

And wished, as oft, in other days

To look upon the sun's bright rays,

As he in glory sank to rest,

Behind those mountains hi the west.

This evening she was very weak,

And found it painful e'en to speak 5

A chilly tremor o'er her past,

Her fluttering pulse was sinking fast ;

Death touched her cheek with pallid hue,

And dimmed her eyes of heavenly blue.

His cold dews on her forehead shed,

Like tears of pity, o'er the dead !

One struggling pang, one deep drawn sigh,

She raised to Heaven each languid eye,

Then closed them both ! — to open never :

That sun had set, — on her for ever.

It was poor Fanny's last request

That she might with her father rest,

Within the little churchyard, near

7 hat cottage, to them both so dear ;

Her husband piously fulfilled,

What dying, his poor Fanny willed ;

And shed full many a bitter tear

O'er her loved corse, and mournful bier ;

Nor did he, e'en in death divide,

The daughter from her father's side.

And weeping willows marked the spot,

Where all their sorrows were forgot.
*******

'Twas evening, and the veil of night

Was falling o'er eacji mountain height ;

That veil, which peaceful nature throws,

To wrap the earth in soft repose ;

The golden west began to fade,

Beneath the twilight's deep'ning shade ;

The moon till then, hid by a cloud,

Now burst aside, her fleecy shroud ;

And lit up with her silvery light,

Each feature of the scene that night ;

A yguth of noble martial air,

Seemed like some spirit hov'ring there ;

With folded arms, and walking slow,

He looked o'erwhelmed with heartfelt woe ;

And paused to heave a heavy sigh,

When that sweet cottage met his eye.

As in the stilly hour it slept,

The gallant soldier gazed and wept ; —

He turned to view each shrub and tree,

Shades of his happy in&ncy ;

And could of each some record tell,

He knew their hist'ry but too well.

Oh painful memory ! how few,

Thy page with pleasure can review ;

DEVOTION. 339

Recording, love's fond hopes and fears,
Bright visions of our early years ;
"With blossoms of our life's young morn,
Which ere they bloomed, were rudely torn ;
Their leaves by breath of sorrow cast,
To wither on the desert blast !
And we must journey on uncheered,
Deprived of all that life endeared ;
Of all we loved our hearts bereft :
With only fruitless memory left !
Oh ! better far, the volume close,
Or blot the page which marks our woes !—
For when our star of hope is set,
Tis better if we can forget.
Thus Henry thought, — for oh ! 'twas he
Who felt those pangs of memory. —
As early dreams his fancy crossed,
Of all he loved, — and all he lost.
And as he called on Fanny's name,
Did he her seeming falsehood blame?
Ah no ! her motive well he knew,
Nor breathed one thought to love untrue ;
From her old nurse he learned the tale,
Of bankruptcy, the cottage sale,
That when she thought her Henry dead,
All hope had from her bosom fled.
Ere he from those loved scenes returned,
He sought the grave of her he mourned ;
And kneeling on that hallowed stone,
He felt in the wide world alone.
And vowed no love should hers replace,
Nor'time its memory efface :
'Till death he'd keep that tender vow,
Glory should be his mistress now,
He'd seek her on the battle field,
At honor's voice the sword to wield.
In freedom's cause he'd bravely die
Victim of love and constancy. —

M. D.

340

THE CLUBS OF LONDON.*

IF we may believe the tales handed down to us, but which, it iriust be
owned, carry a very apocryphal sound with them, the next club upon the
list, called the Calves-Head Club, was established by no less a person than
Milton. It was intended, we are told, in opposition, though the case of
opposition seems hardly to be made out, to certain prayer-meetings of
Bishop Juxon, Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Hammond, and other divines, held
privately during the time of the Protectorate, on every 30th of January ;
for this occasion they had compiled a form of service not very different
from what we now find in the liturgy, and the rival establishments might,
with no great impropriety, have written up over the doors of their res-
pective club-rooms, " Here we fast and pray" — " Here we feast and
curse," — for a terrible affair seems to have been this of the Calves-Head.
It was held to commemorate the beheading of Charles, on every return
of the day, when they celebrated that event in the same unmanly spirit
of vengeance which subsequently led the royalists to disinter the bones
of Cromwell. Upon the Restoration it followed as a matter of course
that the club was carried on with greater secrecy, but in the reign of
King William III. this necessity for extreme caution had in some mea-
sure ceased, and their meetings were now held almost openly. The only
sign of their not being altogether free from danger, or at least from the
apprehension of it, was in their not having any fixed place to assemble in,
the club removing from one part of London to another, according as the
convenience or the prudence of the members dictated, and in this case
no doubt the terms were commensurate. That some caution should be
requisite, even in that reign of toleration, will not surprise any one when
he is told of their proceedings, though it must be confessed that Butler's
account, and it is, we believe, the only one extant, has very much the raw-
head and bloody- bones character of an ogre- tale. In the club -room an
axe was hung up, and reverenced as a principal symbol in what he calls
the Diabolical Sacrament. The feast was in the same style, the various
dishes serving not only to satisfy the hunger of the revolutionists, but at
the same time to symbolize their feelings, so that they gratified their appe-
tite and their revenge by one and the same operation. Thus they had
calf 's-head dressed in various ways as emblematical of the cavaliers in
general, and a huge cod's head as typifying the king himself. Next, as
the unlucky Charles was to be considered both a tyrant and a beast, they
had a huge pike with a lesser fish of the same kind in its mouth to de-
note his despotism, while a boar's head holding an apple in its jaws sig-
nified that he was bestial. It is true that "the allusion holds not in the
exchang^ 5" but let it pass.

The banquet being ended, grace was said, the table-cloth removed,
and, a calf's-skull filled with wine being passed round, each one drank
" to the pious memory of those worthy patriots that had killed the ty-
rant, and delivered the country from his arbitrary sway." One of the
elders then produced a copy of the " Eikon Basilike," that very loyal
fraud, which was forthwith burnt in hangman fashion, as a sacrifice, it

* Continued from p. 274.

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 3-11

may be presumed,, to the father of lies, who doubtless suggested the im-
position which was thus being committed to the flames. At the same
time a set of ribald songs were sung, called, in derision of the church,
anthems, and which were much less remarkable for poetry than for a
furious party spirit. Let the reader of the following specimen judge for
himself: —

" Touch, now touch the tuneful lyre,
Make the joyful strings resound ;
The victory's at last entire,
With the royal victim crown'd.

England long her wrongs sustaining,

Press'd beneath her burthens down,
Chose a set of heroes daring

To chastise the haughty crown.

Thus the Romans, whose beginning

From an equal right did spring,
Abhorring Romulus his sinning,

To the gods transferred their king.

Let the Black Guard rail no further,

Nor blaspheme the righteous blow.
Nor miscall that justice murther,

Which made Saint and Martyr too.

They and we this day observing, ]

Differ only in one thing ;
They are canting, whining, starving,

We rejoicing, drink and sing.

Advance the emblem of the action,

Fill the CALVES-SKULL full of wine ;
Drinking ne'er was counted faction,

Men and gods adore the wine.

To the heroes gone before us

Let's renew the flowing bowl,
Whilst the lustre of the (their) glories

Shine (shines) like stars from pole to pole.

It is hardly necessary to add that by the Black Guards in the fourth of
the verses quoted, a sort of punning allusion is intended to the black
robes of the regular clergy.

After the chaunting of these exquisite stanzas, and the sacrifice of the
Eikon Basilike, another of the elders brought forward Milton's celebrated
" Defensio Populi Anglicani," when all laid their hands upon the volume,
solemnly pledging themselves to stand by it and maintain its principles.
There are some grains of truth, doubtless, mixed up in this account>
though the whole is exaggerated into fiction, and has very much the
appearance of a mere party pamphlet. That the grave, high-minded
Milton, should ever have made one in a society where such fooleries were
practised, seems most improbable, however he might approve their poli-
tical principles. Then, too, the mixture of Independents with Anabaptists
seems very questionable. If, moreover, the club continued to flourish
in the time of Queen Anne, which from this account it must have done,

342 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

it seems strange that Addison should never once have alluded to it in the
" Spectator," nor Steele in the " Tatler," while discussing so many real
and fictitious associations of the same kind. But the pamphlet carries a
lie in the title page ; it professes to be " written in the time of the usur-
pation, by the celebrated Mr. Butler, author of Hudibras.'' Now Butler
died in September, 1680, and could hardly, therefore, have inscribed his
pamphlet, in an ironical dedication, to John Tutchin, Observator, for the
earliest number of Tutchin's periodical did not appear till April 1, 1702,
more than one-and-twenty years after the poet had been quietly interred
in the church-yard of Covent Garden.

In spite, however, of all these falsehoods and exaggerations, there can
be no doubt that such a club as "The Calves-head ' did really exist. In
the " Grub-Street Journal" for January, 1735, is an epigram signed
Dactyl, that is quite conclusive of the fact ; but as it is not overdecent,
we can only give it in fragments :

" Strange times ! when noble peers, secure from riot,
Can't keep Noll's annual festival in quiet.
Attack'd by mob, their gen'rous wine set on fire.

*********

Through sashes broke, dirt, stones, and brands thrown at 'em,

Which if not scand- was brand-B\um magnatum,

Forc'd to run down to vaults for safer quarters,

And in cole-holes their ribbons hide and garters.

They thought, their feast in dismal fray thus ending,

Themselves to shades of death and hell descending ;

This might have been if stout Clare Market mobsters,

With clevers arm'd, out-march'd St. James's lobsters ;

Num- skulls they'd split to furnish other revels,

And make a Calves-Head feast for worms and devils."

The explanation of this is, that a party of young noblemen met at a
tavern in Suffolk Street, calling themselves a Calves-Head Club. On the
occasion alluded to, they had a calf's-head dressed up in a towel, which,
after some huzzas, they threw into bonfires below, dipping their napkins
in red wine, and waving them out of the window. The mob had strong
beer given to them, and for a while hallooed as loudly as the frantic re-
vellers themselves, till, taking offence at some healths proposed, they
grew so outrageous that they broke the windows, and forced their way
into the house. Luckily for all parties, before any serious mischief
could be effected, the guards — the " Saint James's lobsters" of the epi-
gram— arrived, and put an end to the tumult.

As far as can be judged from these details, the meeting in question must
have been a burlesque upon the real Calves-Head Club, and intended in
mockery of its principles ; but this of course is sufficient to establish the
fact of such an association having really existed. The very brevity of
the account in the "Gentleman's Magazine" (February, 1735) shows,
moreover, that the club was, at least in those days, sufficiently notorious.

The old spirit of good fellowship seems, in the reign of James the
Second, to have given rise to the Kit-Cat Club, about the time of the trial
of the seven bishops for refusing to publish from the pulpit the king's ill-
timed "Declaration for Libertie of Conscience." It was held in Shire
Lane, and is said to have derived its name from one Christopher Cat, the
provider of mutton-pies for this merry institution, wherein men met to
converse at freedom from the din of politics that prevailed abroad. The

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 343

celebrated artist, Sir Godfrey Kneller, who was himself a member,
painted the portraits of many of his brother clubbists j and these for
a long time ornamented their room of meeting, but, by some means not
very clearly explained, in the end they became the property of Mr.William
Baker. From the particular size of the portraits, if the story be true, we
have the name of Kit-cats applied, even in the present day, to all pictures
of similar dimensions. But it may be questioned whether even this club,
based as it was upon the solid foundation of mutton-pies, did not dege-
nerate in the reign of Queen Anne into a political society} for we find it
then comprised, among others, above forty noblemen and gentlemen of
rank and fortune, who are peculiarly remembered as being " firm friends
to the Hanoverian succession." It does not seem very likely that either
Tory or Jacobite would find their way into an association that could
merit to be so distinguished, yet at this time it was considered to be in
all its glory.

The reign of Queen Anne seems to have abounded in clubs of all
kinds, and far beyond any preceding period. Parties ran high, and meet-
ings of this sort were found peculiarly convenient in bringing men toge-
ther of the same way of thinking, in disseminating their political opinions,
and in giving them the strength which is ever derived from union. The
first of these clubs in date, and probably in importance, was the October
Club, which was held at the Bell Tavern, in King Street, Westminster,
It was purely of political origin, having grown out of the discontent of
the ultra Tories with the minister of their own faction. Harley, after-
wards Lord Oxford, appears, like Sir Robert Peel in the present day, not
to have moved fast enough, nor far enough, to satisfy the more zealous
of his party, who were for making a clean sweep of all the Whigs, and
not leaving a single one in office. Such a measure was alien alike to
his policy and his ideas of justice. He contended, as Swift informs us,
" that there were many employments to be bestowed that required both
skill and practice ; that several gentlemen, who possessed them, had
been longed versed, very loyal to Her Majesty, had never been violent
partymen, and were ready to fall into all honest measures for the service
of their queen and country." He even offered, as places became vacant,
to fill them up with the candidates of their recommendation, so far as it
should be at all consistent with the public service, or perhaps even with-
out considering that point too nicely. But all this failed to conciliate
the ultra-Tories, and hereupon more than two hundred of the malcontents
formed themselves into a new body under the name of the October Club,
the avowed object of which was " to consult upon some methods that
might spur those in power, so that they might make a quicker despatch
in the removing all the Whig leaven from the employment they still pos-
sessed." In other words, it was a cabal for the express purpose of
driving the minister into measures that could hardly have been otherwise
than fatal to the entire party. According to the pamphlets of the day —
and this was the very age of pamphleteering — these Highflyers, or High-
Churchmen, as they now began to be called, in opposition to the Mode-
rates or Low Churchmen, " insulted the Queen and the ministry with libels,
memorials, lampoons," and even went so far as to bring a bill into the
House of Commons for appointing commissioners to examine into the
value of all lands and other interests granted by the Crown since the
13th day of February, 1688, and upon what considerations such grants
had been made. The object, it need hardly be said, was the resumption

344 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

of so many of these gifts as was possible, and as they suspected that both
the court and the treasurer would be hostile to them on this point, they
proposed the bill should be tacked to another for raising a fund by duties
upon soap and paper. Hence they obtained the soubriquet of Tackers, a
name which rendered them odious to all parties. No one was more ac-
tive in endeavouring to reconcile this remnant of a faction to the minister
than his fast and sagacious friend Dean Swift, who appears to have been
not a little satisfied with his own exertions, if we may judge from one of
his confidential communications to Stella, wherein, speaking of his Letter
to the October Club, he observes, " 'tis fairly written, I assure you." Most
authors would, no doubt, come to a similar conclusion if allowed to sit in
censure of their own works, though few perhaps might have as good
reasons for self-eulogy as the Dean. His pamphlet is written with con-
summate tact, throwing a sort of dubious twilight upon the question,
that must have pleased while it puzzled the country gentlemen. To
what extent it succeeded, or what share it had in producing the schism
amongst the ultras, and thus weakening their opposition, it is scarcely
possible to tell in the present day, but the more moderate among them
did actually begin to show symptoms of alarm at the progress of the com-
mon enemy. The Whigs, though they could hardly be called popular at
this time, had yet begun to recover their strength, and it was evident
that the minister must be supported, or a more dangerous enemy was
likely enough to thrust into his place. Still the more bigoted of the
party refused to be convinced, and a division in consequence arose
amongst themselves, which led to the formation of the March Club. This
was made up of the most zealous members of the old society, men who
were incurably jealous of the minister, and many of whom, no doubt,
went the whole length of Jacobitism, and were determined, if possible,
to reverse the Act of Settlement. It did not, however, long subsist, the
death of Queen Anne, and the accession of the House of Hanover to the
throne, in all probability making such an open display of Jacobitism
much too dangerous for the members.

Another association, but of a very different nature, had its origin in
this reign. This was the celebrated Beef-Steak Club, the first of its name,
which had for its president the well-known Peg Woffington, the only
female that ever gained admission into it, and as this popular actress was
much more celebrated for the good things she said, than for the good
things she did, it is fair to presume that the club was a right merry one.

" I cannot tell how the truth may be,
I say the tale as 'twas said to me."

The caterer also was drawn from the theatre in the person of Richard
Estcourt, the comedian who is so highly spoken of in the Spectator.
" The best man," says Steele, the author of the paper in question — {t the
best man that I know of for heightening the revel gaiety of a company,
is Estcourt, whose jovial humour diffuses itself from the highest person
at an entertainment to the meanest waiter. Merry tales, accompanied
with apt gestures and livelyVepresentations of circumstances and persons,
beguile the gravest mind into a consent to be as humorous as himself.
Add to this, that when a man is in his good graces, he has a mimicry
that does not debase the person he represents ; but which, taking from
the gravity of the character, adds to the agreeableness of it. This pleasant
fellow gives one some idea of the ancient pantomime, who is said to have

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 345

given the audience in dumb show an exact idea of any character or pas-
sion, or an intelligible relation of any public occurrence with no other
expression than that of his looks and gestures."

A rare fellow must Richard Estcourt have been, to have deserved this
elegant eulogy, and well fitted to play the part of caterer to a club where
beef-steaks were consumed a discretion, and of which Peg Woffington
was the merry president. As an honourable badge of office, the provi-
dore, as they called him, wore a small gridiron of gold, suspended from
his neck by a green silk riband.

The Mohock Club, if it ever existed at all, which, however, many have
doubted, was of a very different kind from the social or politicarclubs,
the whole and sole ambition of the members being to do as much mis-
chief as possible. To carry out this principle in its full strength and per-
fection, it was usual with them, like the Japanese before running a muck,
to get rid of the little reason they had inherited from nature, as in the
one case by opium, so in the other by wine and spirits. Having tho-
roughly intoxicated themselves, they would then make a sally into the
streets, and assault all who were unlucky enough to come in their way,
their modes of attack being varied with considerable ingenuity. Some
of these Mohocks, a name derived from the American Indians, were
distinguished for happy dexterity in tipping the lion upon their victims,
which should seem to have been neither more nor less than the gougings
even now practised by the gentle inhabitants of Kentucky as a graceful
adjunct to the Bowie knife. Another set called themselves dancing-
masters, and they taught their unwilling scholars .to cut capers, by
stabbing them in the legs. A third sort rejoiced in the title of Tumblers,
and their amusement was to set females upon their heads, and practise
other indecencies which are better left untold. Swift was, or pretended
to be, in continual dread of these ruffians, who were supposed to be
peculiarly hostile to all of the ministerial party, and his "Journal to
Stella" teems with the story of his terrors. In one part he says, —
" Here is the devil and all to do with these Mohocks. Grub Street
papers about them fly like lightning, and a list printed of near eighty
put into several prisons, and all a lie ; and I begin almost to think there
is no truth, or very little, in the whole story. He that abused Davenant
was a drunken gentleman, none of that gang. My man tells me, that
one of the lodgers heard in a coffee-house publicly that one design of
the Mohocks was upon me, if they could catch me ; and though I believe
nothing of it, I forbear walking late, and they have put me to the charge of
some shillings already." At another time he writes to Stella, — " Lord
Winchelsea told me to-day at court, that two of the Mohocks caught a
maid of old Lady Winchelsea's at the door of their house in the park,
with a candle, and had just lighted out somebody. They cut all her
face and beat her without any provocation. I hear my friend Lewis has
got a Mohock in one of the messenger's hands.*'

But it is not only in his private journal to Stella that the Dean has
alluded to this subject; in his "History of the Four last Years of the
Queen" he says, that Prince Eugene, who was then in England for the
express purpose of urging the British cabinet to continue war with
France, "had conceived an incurable hatred for the Treasurer, as the
person who principally opposed this insatiable passion for w^ — said he
had hopes of others, but that the Treasurer was un mechant diable, not
to be moved ; therefore, since it was impossible for him or his friends

346 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

to compass their designs while that minister continued at the head of
affairs, he proposed an expedient often practised by those of his country,
that the Treasurer (to use his own expression) should be taken off a la
negligence ; that this might easily be done, and put for an effect of
chance, if it were preceded by encouraging some proper people to com-
mit small riots in the night j and in several parts of the town a crew of
obscure ruffians were accordingly employed about that time, who pro-
bably exceeded their commission, and, mixing themselves with those
disorderly people that often infest the streets at midnight, acted inhuman
outrages on many persons, whom they cut and mangled in the face, and arms,
and other parts of the body, without any provocation ; but an effectual stop
was soon put to these enormities, which probably prevented the execu-
tion of the main design." Whether Swift himself believed this extraor-
dinary tale, or not, it is equally clear that he is here alluding to the
Mohocks, though he does not mention them by name.

These testimonies are farther corroborated by the fact of a proclama-
tion having been issued with an offer of one hundred pounds for the
apprehension and bringing to justice of any one of these desperados. It
does not, however, appear that any but common footpads were tried for
these alleged offences, and hence the Whigs took occasion to argue that
the whole was an exaggeration at least, if not an invention of the
ministers, so that the question must still remain undecided.

In addition to these more distinguished clubs, which have become
embodied, as it were, in our literary or political history, we have a great
variety of minor associations upon one or other of the models already
mentioned. Thus there was the Georges, which used to meet at the
sign of the George on St. George's Day, and swear, " before George" —
the famous Scriblerus Club, of which Pope, Swift, and Arbuthnot were
the leading members — the Hanoverian a political club — the Brothers,
which seem from its name to have been a social institution — with many
more, of which it is difficult at this time of day to discover whether they
were in rerum naturd, or had their existence only in the imaginations of
the writers. Some there are, which no one at the first sight would
hesitate to set down as pleasant fictions invented merely to amuse the
reader, but others are more doubtful, and in the absence of all means of
verifying the point, it would be useless to give a mere catalogue of their
names. Most of them, however, will be found in the Spectator, the
Tatler, or the Guardian.

Before finally quitting this period, there is one club we can hardly
bring ourselves to pass over, though, strictly speaking, it may not come
within our prescribed limits, since it is of Scottish origin, having been
established at Edinburgh in 1717. It was called The Fair Intellectual
Club, and consisted wholly of females. According to the rules of this
society, the profoundest secrecy was to be observed ; and for two long
years the ladies kept their own council in spite of the proverbial talka-
tiveness of the sex, till at last a faithless sister, under the influence of
love, vindicated the old adage by betraying the mystery to an " honour-
able gentleman." This indiscretion, however, seems to have been indul-
gently considered by the ladies for its cause, which in their eyes would
no doubt have executed a much greater fault ; and in an Advertisement
to the Readers by Appointment of the Club, the fair writers leniently observed,
" Who can blame our sister ? she has a generous motive to make the
revelation. Reason might well quit the field when that almighty pleasing

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 34/

passion took place." With such mild sentiments, the only penance in-
flicted upon the offender, who was secretary to the club, consisted in or-
dering her to draw up an account of it for publication ; and to this we
owe the narrative from which, whether true, or only fabulous, we have
derived our information. It sets out with informing us that "in the
month of May, 1717, three young ladies happened to divert ourselves by
walking in Heriot's Gardens, where one of us took occasion to propose
that we should enter into a society for improvement of one another in the
study and practice of such things as might contribute most effectually to
our accomplishment. This overture she enforced with a great deal of
reasoning, that disposed the other too cherfully to comply with it. The
honour of our sex in general, as well as our particular interest, was in-
tended when we made that agreement. We thought it a great pity that
women, who excel a great many others in birth and fortune, should not
also be more eminent in virtue and good sense, which we might attain
unto if we were as industrious to cultivate our minds as we are to adorn
our bodies."

Having come to this understanding the trio held divers grave meetings,
whereat, after much serious conference suited to*so important an occa-
sion, they concluded that their club should be called the " Fair Intellec-
tual," and that it should consist of neither more nor less than nine mem-
bers, in imitation, we may presume, of the Nine Muses. But now arose
another difficulty j where could they hope to find six more Intellectuals ?
Day after day was spent in weighing, and sifting, and deliberating ; and
when this knotty point was satisfactorily adjusted, they proceeded with
no less care and caution in framing a constitution. Only mark how
anxious the fair secretary is to impress this point upon the gentleman
addressed. " You must have the charity, sir, to believe we were very
serious and deliberate in our retirements, while we endeavour to be fully
satisfied in our minds concerning the reasonableness and expediency of
what we were to do. The more time we spent in thinking and conferring
together upon the measures we had laid down, we were the more cheer-
fully disposed to adhere to them, insomuch that, when the time of meet-
ing came, we were all ready to accomplish our design with the greatest
success, and expressions of mutual love and friendship."

The rules of the club were sixteen ; the principal points being, that the
members were to be unmarried j that they should not be admitted before
fifteen, or after twenty years of age ; that they never should exceed nine
in number • that the principles or politics should be no bar to admission ;
and that they should all be good Protestants, maintain the secrets of the
club, and love one another. The president, who was to be chosen quar-
terly, was addressed as Mistress Speaker, with a power of determining
differences, silencing debates, censuring transgressors, and returning
votes ; and also to open the affair with a set speech. " Thus," observes
the secretary, " thus gradually are great affairs brought to perfection :"
a dogma which few will deny, and which seems particularly applicable to
the formation of a ladies'-club. But we are most struck by the writer's
naive expressions of delight, when these notable arrangements are con-
cluded, and the society meets for the first time. " You cannot," she
says, "you cannot imagine, sir, the joy we had when we found ourselves
convened in the character of members of the ' Fair Intellectual Club/
For my part, I thought my soul should have leaped out of my mouth when
I saw nine ladies, like the Nine Muses, so advantageously posted. If ever

VOL. IV. NO. XVIII. *2 C

348 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

i had a sensible taste and relish of true pleasure in my life, it was then.
Oh ! how delightful is the pleasure of the mind ! None know it but those
who value reason and good improvement above fine shapes, beauty, and
apparel."

It may be shrewdly expected that these fair intellectuals, if indeed they
ever really existed, were fair after the inverted fashion of Macbeth's
witches — "fair is foul, and foul is fair;" — that they were silly pedants
is beyond all question.

We have already spoken of one Beef -Steak Club, and have now to re-
cord a second association under the same title, though originating under
very different circumstances. To understand this matter rightly, it will
be requisite that we should say a few words of its founder, Henry Rich.

It is to this individual that the English public is indebted for the mo-
dern pantomime, or harlequinade, which may plmost be considered an
original invention of his own, since it exhibits few traces of its Italian
descent beyond the mere anglicised names of the principal dramatis per-
sonae. The plots he wrote himself, the tricks and transformations he
invented himself, and as if all this were not enough to fill up his time
and show his versatility, he used to play the part of the motley hero under
the assumed name of Lun, and, according to all accounts, with singular
success. But these were the classic days of pantomime, for he had all
an author's feeling for the bantling of his fancy, and held with Hamlet
— "Let those, that play your clowns, do (speak) no more than is set
down for them." He would allow of no interpolated capers, no extem-
pore grimaces, no gratuitous thumpings or bumpings. All these mat-
ters were under strict regulation, and whoever presumed to exceed was
subject to green-room penalties, proportioned to the gravity of his
offences.

Rich's first exhibitions in this way were at the little theatre in Lincoln's
Inn Fields, from which he subsequently removed to Covent Garden. Of
this establishment he became the manager, and he had his atelier, where
he planned and prepared pasteboard models of the various pantomimic
scenes and transformations. So popular had the new class of entertain-
ment become, that men distinguished by rank or talents took an interest
in the inventor, and flocked to his workshop with as much eagerness as
the amateurs of art in our own day frequent the studio of Bacon or
Westmacott. Strange as it may seem to us, Lord Peterborough, Ho-
garth, Sir James Thornhill, and others of no less note, were to be found
amongst the visitors to the industrious mime, whose lively talk appears
to have had an irresistible charm for them, for he never allowed their
presence to stop him in his work, nor his work to be a reason for sus-
pending conversation. In fact it should seem that his room was a plea-
sant gossip-shop, where loungers could get rid of their superfluous time
with satisfaction to themselves, and without much inconvenience to
their host. On one occasion it chanced that Lord Peterborough found
the conversation so agreeable, that he protracted his stay in total uncon-
sciousness of the hour, when Rich, who was by no means so forgetful
that two o'clock was his dinner hour, proceeded to make the necessary
preparations with as much indifference as if no one had been present.
He laid his cloth, blew up his fire into a bright clear flame, and forthwith
set about cooking a beef-steak, of which, when done, he courteously in-
vited his Lordship to partake. The peer, who was to the full as whim-
sical as his host, made no scruple for the matter ; the steak was des-

THT CLUBS OF LONDON. 349

patched, accompanied by a bottle or two of excellent wine from a neigh-
bouring tavern — taverns did sell good wine in those days — and he expe-
rienced so much pleasure in this rude sort of meal, that he proposed a
repetition of it at the same place on the following Saturday. This of
course was acceded to by Rich, and, punctual to the hour, came his
Lordship, but with three or four companions, " men of wit and pleasure
about town,'* — to use the phraseology of the time; and so pleasant did
the dinner again prove to all parties, that it was now proposed to found
a club, to be held always in the same place, and be restricted to the same
viands. Sumptuary laws were accordingly enacted, forbidding the in-
troduction of any thing beyond beef- steak, punch, and wine, and from
the first of these, as being what Justice Greedy emphatically styles " the
substantiate,'' the club derived its name. Slight as was this beginning, the
club soon increased so much that Rich's gridiron was no longer large
enough to cook the requisite supply of steaks for the members ; it was
therefore superseded by one of the largest dimensions, and thenceforth
preserved in honourable repose as a memorial of the founder, who had
so often had his solitary dinner from it. Even the fire-god, when he
subsequently burnt down Covent Garden Theatre, yet respected this
culinary relic, though he made less scruple in consuming the original
archives of the society. By his want of consideration in this respect, we
have lost, it is said, not only the names of the early members, but many
a witty effusion also, for it was then the rule to preserve in the weekly
records any thing that had been said of more than usual brilliance, by
the members in their potations — -we say their potations, for however famous
beef may he for adding strength to the thews and sinews, we do not re-
collect that it was ever particularly famous for adding poignancy to the
fancy. As to the gridiron, it is still held in honour, being suspended from
the ceiling over the heads of the symposiasts, who still adhere to the ori-
ginal law, which binds them to meet within the walls of a theatre.

It is said of this club that petulance or ill-humour can no more subsist
in it, than serpents or other venomous reptiles can live in Ireland. Pee-
vishness, conceit, and all such foes to good fellowship, are right speedily
drubbed out of a man by the witty flagellations to which he is subjected,
the slightest symptoms of any thing of the kind being visited by instant
and merciless chastisement. Many a miracle, " if they have writ their
annals true/' has been wrought in this way on stubborn offenders, who
by the alchemy of wit have been transmuted from base lead into some-
thing which, if not exactly the precious metal, might at least pass for it;
eager disputants have been tamed down into placid listeners, the morose
and sullen have been changed into the gay and lively, and egotism of the
most confirmed kind has, like a penitent Magdalene, become a gentle
convertitte to modesty. To this account we have only to add that the
club was established in 1735, and that it numbered in its ranks, besides
those already mentioned, David Garrick, Bubb Doddington, Aaron Hill,
Doctor Hoadley, the author of the " Sjispicious Husband," Glover, the
poet of " Leonidas," Lord Sandwich, Wilkes, Bonnell Thornton, Arthur
Murphy, Churchill, Tickell, the late Duke of Norfolk, and George IV.
at the time he was Prince of Wales.

On coming down to the time of Dr. Johnson, we find that the spirit
of clubbism, if we may be allowed to coin a very useful word, had suffered
no diminution. The Doctor himself, who could never be really said to
have a home, or to be calculated for the enjoyment of its peculiar com-

2c 2

350 • THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

forts, was a member of several clubs, the greater part of which he had
founded. It was the element in which he breathed, for to talk was to him
something more than a pleasure — it was an actual necessity of life : and
though it pleased him to fancy he was interchanging ideas, he was in
truth only gratifying his inordinate passion for argument, and for that
species of triumph which belongs to a superiority in verbal disputes.
That this is no exaggerated view of the subject may be gathered from
every page of Bos well's biography, and he has left on record his opinion
that " the great chair of a full and pleasant club, is, perhaps, the throne
of human felicity." No doubt there was another, and scarcely less power-
ful cause for the Doctor's club mania — his morbid mind, and more par-
ticularly in the decline of life, could not endure loneliness ; he shrunk
from solitude as a child does from darkness, and there is good reason to
believe that his fancy was hardly less active in filling up vacancy with
phantoms. " Stay with me, for it is a comfort to me/' was his frequent
exclamation to his visitors, — a pregnant proof of the tyranny exercised
over him by his own gloomy thoughts.

The first club with which we find him in connection, is one that he
himself founded in 1747, by way of relaxation when employed upon his
Dictionary. It was held at the King's Head, a famous beefsteak house,
kept by a man of the name of Horseman, in Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row.
There the members, whose number was limited to nine, met every Tues-
day evening. Doctor Hawkesworth, Sir John Hawkins, and Payne, the
bookseller, being of the party. But death and other causes, such as
business and marriage, having in less than ten years made seceders of
some of the convivial associates, in 1756 the club was broken up.

The next institution of the kind in which we find Johnson concerned,
was, as regards the reputation of its members, of a much higher order.
This was the club known by the name of the Literary, a distinction,
however, which it did not obtain till after it had been some time esta-
blished. There is some confusion, not to call it contradiction, in Boswell's
account of this matter, which is passed over unnoticed in Croker's edition.
In one page we are told, " soon after his (Doctor Johnson's) return to
London was founded that club which existed long without a name, but
at Mr. Garrick's death became distinguished by the title of the Literary
Club." All this seems plain enough, but in the very next page the story
goes to a somewhat different tune. " A lady, distinguished by her
beauty and taste for literature, invited the club twice to a dinner at her
house. Curiosity was her motive, [and possibly a desire of intermin-
gling with their conversation the charms of her own. She affected to
consider them as a set of literary men, and perhaps gave the first occasion
for distinguishing the society by the name of the Literary Clyb, an ap-
pellation which it never assumed to itself."

Be this as it may, the club was suggested by Sir Joshua Reynolds to
the Doctor, and upon his acceding to the proposition, it was established
in 1764, the earlier members being the two originators, Edmund Burke,
Doctor Nugent, Beauclerk, Langton, Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir
John Hawkins. It had been Johnson's first intention that the association
should consist of nine members only, but on the return from abroad of
Dyer, who had belonged to the old Ivy Lane Club, an exception was
made in his favour, although there was no vacancy. Thus constituted,
they met every Friday evening at the Turk's Head in Gerrard Street,
Soho, at the early hour of seven, but it was generally late before they

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 351

parted, a concession made, it may be presumed, to the peculiar habits of
Doctor Johnson, who seems to have been as little willing to go to bed as
to leave it when once he was there. The conversation was miscellaneous,
but for the most part literary, politics being rigorously excluded, a very
necessary regulation, considering the fierce uncompromising prejudices
of him who was a principal member. In a short time the celebrity of
the associates made many anxious to join them, and so early as 1791
their number had gradually increased to thirty-five, many other changes
having taken place in the meanwhile. Instead of a supper, it was agreed
to dine together once a week during the meeting of parliament, most
probably to accommodate their time to Burke's parliamentary duties,
and as their original tavern had been converted into a private house, they
moved first to Prince's in Sackville Street, then to Le Telier's in Dover
Street, and later still to Parsloe's in St. James's Street.

Two clubs of minor importance must not be forgotten, since they too
have obtained a sort of notoriety from Johnson's connection with them.
Of these the first was established by Hoole, at the Doctor's request, in
1781, and met at the Queen's Arms, in St. Paul's Churchyard. Patriots
of all kinds were rigidly excluded from it by the especial veto of the
founder, who, as he grew older, grew more intolerant upon all subjects
of politics and religion, and probably found the^ arguing, he was once so
fond of, became less palatable to his exhausted energies, than a patient
acquiescence in his opinions. The second of the associations alluded to
was held in Old Street ; it was evidently an obscure one, and has left no
record of its existence beyond the name of its locality.

We have now come down to 1783, so far at least as regards Doctor
Johnson. He was in his seventy-fourth year, and finding his distaste for
loneliness grow yet more upon him, he resolved to form a new associa-
tion, that should meet three times a week. This gave rise to the Essex
Head Club, which was held at a tavern of that name in Essex Street, kept
by Samuel Greaves, an old servant of Mr. Thrale's. The company was
more numerous than select, though amongst the miscellaneous heap
might be found some few of those whom Menenius would call (e the
right-hand file." The record tells us of Daines Barrington, Doctor
Brocklesby, Murphy the dramatist, John Nichols, Mr. Cook, Mr. Joddrell,
Mr. Paradise, Doctor Horseley, and Mr. Windham, quite enough in all
conscience to prove that Sir John Hawkins's sneer of its being " a low
ale-house association," was totally undeserved, whatever show of truth it
might seem to derive from Sir Joshua Reynolds having refused to belong
to the club. That Johnson himself prized this society is certain, or he
would not have drawn up for it the rules, which we now give, that the
reader may more easily compare them with the elegant regulations of his
dramatic namesake.

RULES.

" To-day deep thoughts with me resolve to drench,
In mirth, which after no repenting draws." — MILTON.

The club shall consist of four-and-twenty.

The meetings shall be on the Monday, Thursday, and Saturday of every week j

but in the week before Easter there shall be no meeting.
Every member is at liberty to introduce a friend once a week, but not oftener.

352 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

Two members shall oblige themselves to attend in their turn every night from
eight to ten, or to procure two to attend in their room.

Every member present at the club shall spend at least sixpence ; and every mem-
ber who stays away shall forfeit threepence.

The master of the house shall keep an account of the absent members, and deliver
to the president of the night a list of the forfeits incurred.

When any member returns after absence, he shall immediately lay down his for-
feits, which, if he omits to do, the president shall require.

There shall be no general reckoning, but every man shall adjust his own ex-
penses.

The night of indispensable attendance will come to every member once a month.
Whoever shall, for three months together, omit to attend himself, or by sub-
stitution, nor shall make any apology in the fourth month, shall be considered

1 as having abdicated the club.

When a vacancy is to be filled, the name of the candidate and of the member
recommending him, shall stand in the club-room three nights. On the fourth
he may be chosen by ballot, six members at least being present, and two thirds
of the ballot being in his favour, or the majority, should the numbers not be
divisible by three.

The master of the house shall give notice, six days before, to each of those mem-
bers, whose turn of unnecessary attendance is come.

The notice may be in these words : — " Sir, on — , the — of — , will be your turn
of presiding at the Essex Head. Your company is, therefore, earnestly re-
quested."

One penny shall be left by each member for the waiter.

The small fines and very moderate expenses of this society might seem
to lend a colour to Sir John Hawkins's insinuation, but we have else-
where sufficient proofs of Johnson's aversion to low society. When
Boswell signified to him his intention of becoming a member of a club
held at the Boar's Head in Eastcheap, the very tavern where Falstaff and
his joyous companions had met, he gravely admonished him to do no-
thing of the kind. The members, it seems, assumed Shakspeare's cha-
racters at their meetings ; one being Prince Henry, another Bardolph,
another the fat knight, and so on, to mingle in which he maintained
would lessen the character of his consulter.

One club more remains to be mentioned, and we have then done with Dr.
Johnson. This is the Eumeliany founded by Dr. Ashe, in honour of whom
it obtained its name, the Greek EvjufXtag, from which it was derived, sig-
nifying well-ashed. According to Boswell, this designation had not passed
without challenge, many of the members considering that Fraxinean, from
the Latin, would be a much more obvious appellation.

There are yet two or three clubs which, as they belong to the same
kith and kin, require to be noticed before we speak of what may be more
peculiarly called the modern club, a pure creation of our own day, and
essentially differing from every thing that has gone before it. The most
prominent of them is the King of Clubs, founded in 1801 by Bobus Smith,
a nickname which Mr. Robert Smith had acquired when a boy at Eton,
where he was the companion of Canning, as he was his friend in riper
years. Subsequently he became Advocate-General of Calcutta, and has
been described as having somewhat of the bow-wow manner in his con-
versation, qualified, however, with no small degree of pleasantry, which
last adjunct must have been a prodigious relief in a society that labours
not a little under the suspicion of learned dulness. Politics, it is true,
were absolutely excluded, but the same salutary restriction was not ex-
tended to philosophical discussions, and the members in consequence had

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 353

often to gape over first and secondary causations, the systems of Empe-
docles and Lucretius, or the speculations of Cicero and Galen.

This society, which at first consisted of a small knot of clever lawyers,
who had much leisure and little practice, used to meet at the Crown and
Anchor Tavern in the Strand. It still exists, or at least did exist in
1828; and if in its origin it could show such names as Sharpe, Macin-
tosh, Scarlett, Sam Rogers, and Dumont, the friend of the Abbe de Lisle,
in later times it has had to boast of Lord Holland, Lord Lunsdowne, and
many others distinguished either for their rank or their talent.

The Hole in the Watt Club and the lona Club may hardly seem to come
within the fair limits of our essay, the one belonging to Norwich and the
other to Scotland. We will, therefore,, content ourselves with recording
of them, that the first was an association of many clever, but eccentric,
characters for mere amusement ; and that the last was instituted in the
March of 1833, for the purpose of investigating and illustrating the
history, antiquities, and early literature of the Scottish Highlands. The
results of their inquiries are given to the world in periodical numbers,
which contain much novel and curious information.

(To be continued.)

THE WANDERER'S RETURN.

FROM THE GERMAN— BY A LADY.
TOWARDS his home he returns, his staff in his hand,
Full long has he wandered, and distant the land —
His face is embrowned, and he's covered with dust,
The poor wayworn stranger, who first shall accost ?

He reaches the barrier, enters the town,
See close by its portal, the keeper sits down,
At the sight of that face, his delight who shall tell ?
;Tis a friend of his youth, he remembers full well.

But alas ! this old friend knows the wanderer not,
For burnt are his cheeks, and his features forgot,
Their greeting was short, and quick onward he goes,
And the dust as he walks, he shakes from his shoes.

Near a casement he halts, his own loved one is there,
" Oh, welcome dear maiden, how welcome, how fair !"
In vain (the appeal, for that eye knows him not,
So burnt are his cheeks, and his features forgot.

Slow and sad he moves on, a kind greeting to seek,
Dim and moist is his eye, a tear rests on his cheek :
But who now approaches, and totters this way,
Tis his mother : " God bless thee," is all he need say.

She hears him, she see him, she sinks on his breast,
" My son, oh ! my son ! now my heart is at rest."
More embrowned must he be, and the sun be more hot,
Ere the child, by the mother, be recognized not.

354

THE LANDS OF ENGLAND, AND THEIR PRO-
PRIETORS SINCE THE CONQUEST.

tit

IN this sequestered parish are situated the remains of a Nunnery, founded
by Sir Gilbert de Montfichet, Knt., and Richard his son, about the reign of
Henry II. This religious house, of the order of Benedictines, was dedicated
to St. Mary Magdalene. The inmates in the time of Edward III.
modestly styled themselves " the Poor Nuns of Ankerwycke." To this
priory many and considerable were the benefactors ; among them King
Richard II. constituted his quota of alms. The seal of the priory is
well preserved in a deed, 54 Henry III., and on it is a building similar to
a tent, which is surmounted on either side by Greek crosses. The exergue
bears the words SIGILL ECCLE SCE MARIE MAG DE ANKWIC.

Previous to the dissolution of the monasteries, the conventual edifices
here were in a state too dilapidated to be returned as amenable to the king's
commissioners. King Henry VIII. gave this nunnery to Bisham Abbey,
Berks, and it was held by Andrew, Lord Windsor, for life, and then to his
issue, by the twentieth part of a knight's fee. This nobleman surrendered
it again to the Crown, when by deed, 6th August, 1550, it was granted to
Sir Thomas Smijth, Knt., who paid a fee farm rent of £1 6s. 8d. per annum.
On the death of this distinguished knight, (whose name sheds a lustre
over the Universities of England, for the depth of his erudition, and over the
government of Britain, for the wisdom of his counsels and diplomacy,
being thrice Ambassador to France and once to Brussels — as well as
coadjutor with the learned Cheke, " who taught our Cambridge and King
Edward, greek.'' Ankerwycke was devised by him in 1577, with his
estates at Hill Hall, Essex, to his only surviving brother, George Smijth.
He lived in the old mansion until his death, in 1584, and was interred in
the chancel of Wyrardisbury church.

Wiresberie is cited as being held by a thane in King Edward's time, and
in Domesday Book by Robert Gernon, and in Testa de Neville by Sir
Richard Montfichet in capite. In 1281 the manors were in the Crown,
and were granted conditionally to Christiana de Mariscis, at a fee farm
rent of £110.

This lady gave certain lands to the prioress and monks of Ankerwycke.
Subsequently the Queens of England were dowered in Wyrardisbury, until
the manorial rights were purchased of the crown in 1627, by John Sharowe,
for £617: 16s. l^d. ; the regalian rights being however held in reserva-
tion. It was held as of the manor of East Greenwich, in common
soccage and not in capite or by knight's service until 1641, when Andrew
King, Gent., son of Ambrose King, of Wales, purchased it, and he died
lord thereof, 1659. His son, Sir Andrew King, Knt., succeeded, and his
nephew and heir continued here until it was alienated in 1685 to John Lee,
Esq., of the Middle Temple, whose widow, Mary, enjoyed it till her
decease in 1725, when it devolved on Elizabeth Lee, his sister, who
had married Sir Philip Harcourt, Knt.

ANKEUWYCKE. 355

The ancient mansion and property passed into another hand by purchase
in 1805, when Mr. Blagrove, its owner, pulled down the house and erected
the present, which, with the lands, he bequeathed in 1824 to his daughters
and coheirs, who retained them till 1829, when the present proprietor,
George Simon Harcourt, Esq., repurchased the inheritance of his ancestors.

The house bears no characteristic of grandeur, and is situated on a low
level near the course of the Thames, and a small branch of the Coin : the
grounds interspersed with lofty trees are charmingly disposed with every
attention to their natural beauties, which consist of the softer cast of land-
scape. If the bold crag and deep dell be wanting, these are amply com-
pensated by the richly enamelled meadows and highly cultivated plains on
the banks of the Thames, while Windsor Castle bursts in all its majesty on
the distant view. It boasts also of some celebrated yew trees, said to have
existed 1000 years, and under their shade tradition alleges that King Henry
VIII. woed the ill-fated Boleyn.

What scenes have passed, since first this ancient YEW —

In all the strength of youthful beauty grew —

Here Patriot Barons might have musing stood,

And plan'dthe CHARTER, for their country's good —

And here perhaps from RONNYMEDE retired

The haughty John, with secret vengeance fired —

Might curse the day which saw his weakness yield

Extorted rights in yonder tented field — >

Here too the tyrant HARRY felt love's flame,

And sighing breathed his Anna Boleyn's name.

Beneath the shelter of this yew tree's shade

The royal lover woo'd the illstarr'd maid,

And yet that neck round which he fondly hung,

To hear the thrilling accents of her tongue —

That lovely breast, on which his head reclined

Formed to have humanised his savage mind —

Were doomed to bleed beneath the tyrant's steel,

Whose selfish heart might doat — but could not feel —

Oh ! had the yew its direst venom shed

Upon the cruel Henry's guilty head —

Ere England's sons with shuddering grief, had seen

A slaughtered victim in their beauteous queen.

WM. THOMAS FITZGERALD.

But by far the most famous object, -perhaps of equal interest with any
in England, is Magna Charter Island, now annexed to the land, in
the parish of Wyrardisbury, rendered sacred to freedom, and ad-
mitted to be the spot where the celebrated charter of British liberty
was ratified. Runnymede is on the opposite bank, where in 1215, the
confederated barons having secured the person of King John, the terrified
monarch yielded to the demands of his subjects ; was conveyed to this
part of the possessions of the nuns of Ankerwycke, where he signed the
instrument of England's deliverance from the yoke of a despotism which
had become intolerable.

In the interior of the fisherman's hut on the island is preserved a stone
called the Charter Stone, on which the deed is affirmed to have been exe-
cuted. A very curious old oak table, removed from Place farm, (formerly the
Manor House and in the village styled, King John's Hunting box,) to the
hall of Mr. Gyll, of Wyrardisbury House, lays claim to some such tra-
ditional honor.

VOL. IV. NO. XVIII. 2 D

356 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.

The village of Wyrardisbury is very rural in its appearance, and it boasts
a modern luxury, the gift of Mr. Harcourt, who in 1842 causd an iron
suspension bridge to span the road, which in wet seasons was inundated by
the joint overflowings of the Thames and Coin. The church for its
external simplicity and interior embellishments, should not be pretermitted
in a notice of this hamlet. It is of a very antique structure, and is
adorned with two handsome stained glass windows of scrollage and mosaic
patterns, which are relieved by the heraldic ensigns of the families of Gyll
and Flemyng. It also contains in the chancel thirteen very noble monu-
ments of the families of Gyll and Hassell, and in the body of the church
are beautifully finished monuments to the memory of the ancient and
illustrious family of Harcourt, to whom also the church is indebted for an
organ.

The principal families re&ident in this secluded village seem to have very
laudably vied witfo. each other in contributing to the decoration of this
church, and in thus affording to every admirer of these interesting repo-
sitories of the sacred remains of our departed ancestors and friends,
an example worthy of imitation. The family of Gyll succeeded at Wy-
rardisbury, after the extinction of the Hassels, who leased the ecclesias-
tical lands of the Dean and Canons of Windsor, and became, as early
as 1696, proprietors of freeholds there, wrhich were devised to Wm. Gyll,
Esq., who married the eldest coheir of the House of Hassel, and which
have since descended to B. H. Gyll, Esq., who possesses the property
originally in the tenure of Sir Thomas Smijth, Knt., and his brother Sir
George Smijth, with whose posterity there is also an intermarriage.

On the whole we may add here in conclusion, while recounting the
marvellous events which have taken place on Magna Charter Island, what
Dr. Johnson said of the Isle of lona in Scotland.

" To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible ; and
if it were endeavoured it would be foolish if it were possible — whatever
withdraws us from the power of our senses — whatever makes the past, the
distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the
dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and my friends be such frigid
philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground
which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery or virtue. That man is little
to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of
Marathon, and whose piety would not grow warm among the ruins in
lona." We may justly superadd — "or whose zeal would not quicken of
the birth place of our constitutional liberties."

, to. Cumberland.

WATERED by the silvery stream from which the name is derived ; and em-
bosomed in richly wooded groves, peculiarly our country's own, Edenhall,
" aula ad rivum Eden," is one of those lovely spots so abundantly scattered
over the beautiful county of Cumberland :

Here thine eye may catch new pleasures,
Whilst the landscape round it measures :
Russet lawns and fallows grey,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray ;

EDENHALL. 357

Mountains, ou whose barren breast
Labouring clouds do often rest :
Meadows trim with dasies pied,
Shallow brooks and rivers wide ;
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosom' d high in tufted trees.

The lands of Edenhall, situated in the forest of Inglewood, were first
granted to Henry, son of Sweine, the second brother of Adam Fitz-sweine,
and are next found, temp. Henry III., in the possession of Robert Turpe,
whose grandson Robert Turpe left two daughters and coheirs, one of whom
Julian wedded, 1 Edward III., William Stapleton. Subsequently, for five
generations, her descendants, the Stapletons, held the property ; but at
length their direct male line failed, and Edenhall was conveyed by Joan de
Stapleton in marriage to Sir Thomas de Musgrave. This alliance, which
first fixed the Musgraves on the banks of the Eden, occurred in the reign
of Henry VI., and from that period to the present its descendants have
continued resident there in repute and honour.

" The martial and warlike family" of Musgrave, as it is styled by Camden,
was renowned in border warfare and border minstrelsy, from the earliest
period, and has maintained an unbroken male succession, even to the present
day. In early times the chief seat of the Musgraves was at Musgrave, in
Westmorland, and subsequently at Hartley Castle in the same county, but
after their alliance with the Stapletons, Edenhall seduced them altogether
from their former residences. The present possessor is Sir George Mus-
grave, 10th Bart. His immediate ancestor, Sir Philip Musgrave, who
acquired great renown under the royal banner during the civil war — at
Marston Moor — as Governor of Carlisle, — at Worcester, and .under the
heroic Countess of Derby, in the Isle of Man, had a warrant, after the
restoration, raising him to the peerage, as BARON MUSGRAVE, of Hartley
Castle, but the patent was never taken out. This gallant cavalier's grand
uncle, Thomas Musgrave, was captain of Bew Castle, and occurs in a
curious indenture of the time, which exhibits the form arid manner of
proceeding to the ancient trial at arms in single combat. A copy of this
deed will not, we think, be uninteresting :

" It is agreed between Thomas Musgrave and Lancelot Carleton, for the
true trial of such controversies as are betwixt them, to have it openly tried
by way of combat, before God and the face of the world, in Canonby
Holme, before England and Scotland, upon Thursday in Easter week, being
the 8th day of April next ensuing, A.D., 1602, betwixt nine of the clock
and one of the same day : to fight on foot; to be armed with jack and
steel cap, plaite sleeves, plaite breeches, plaite socks, two swords, the blades
to be one yard and a half a quarter of length, two Scotch daggers, or
dirks at their girdles, and either of them to provide armour and weapons for
themselves, according to this indenture. Two gentlemen to be appointed in
the field to view both the parties, to see that they both be equal in arms
and weapons, according to this indenture ; and being so viewed, the
gentlemen to ride to the rest of the company, and to leave them ; but two
boys, viewed by the gentlemen, to be under sixteen years of age, to hold
their horses. In testimony of this, our agreement, we have both set our
hands to this indenture of intent : all matters shall be made so plain as
there shall be no question to stick upon that day ; which indenture, as a
witness, shall be delivered to two gentlemen ; and for that it is convenient
the world should be privy to every particular of the ground of the quarrel,

2 D 2

358 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.

we have agreed to set it down in this indenture betwixt us, that knowing
the quarrel their eyes may be witness of the trial.' '

THE GROUNDS OP THE QUARREL.

1. Lancelot Carleton did charge Thomas Musgrave, before the Lords of her
Majesty's Privy Council, that Lancelot Carleton was told by a gentleman, one of
her Majesty's sworn servants, that Thomas Musgrave had offered to deliver her
Majesty's castle of Bewcastle to the King of Scots ; and to which the same
Lancelot Carleton had a letter under the gentleman's own hand for his discharge.

2. He charged him, that whereas her Majesty doth yearly bestow a great fee
upon him as captain of Bewcastle, to aid and defend her Majesty's subjects,
therein Thomas Musgrave hath neglected his duty ; for that her Majesty's Castle
of Bewcastle was, by him, made a den of thieves, and an harbour and receipt for
murderers, felons, and all sorts of misdemeanors, &c.

Thomas Musgrave doth deny all this charge, and saith, that he will prove, that
Lancelot Carleton doth faulsely belie him and will prove the same by way of
combat, according to the indenture, Lancelot Carleton hath entertained the
challenge, and by God's permission, will prove it true, as before ; and hath set
his hand to the same.

THOMAS MUSGRAVE.

LANCELOT CARLETON.

What the event of the combat was we do not find.

The mansion of Edenhall is a handsome stone structure, built in the taste
which prevailed about the time of the Charleses. In the house are some good
old fashioned apartments, and throughout the grounds the most picturesque
scenery opens on the view. Among the family treasures the most
carefully preserved relic is the famous old drinking glass, called the " Luck
of Edenhal." The letters " I.H.S " on the top indicate the sacred use
from which it has been perverted — but tradition gives to it a curious asso-
ciation. The legendary tale records that it was seized from a company of
fairies, who were sporting near a spring in the garden, called St. Cuth-
bert's Well, and who, after an ineffectual struggle to regain the pilfered
chalice, vanished into air, singing : —

If that glass either break or fall
Farewell the luck of Edenhal.

Did our space permit, we would add to this brief record of Edenhall's
fair demense the local ballads associated with its history — especially
"Johnny's Armstrong's Last Good Night" and "the pleasant Ballad,
shewing how two valiant knights, Sir John Armstrong and Sir Michael
Musgrave fell in love with the beautiful daughter of Lady Dacre of the
North ; and of the great strife that happened between them for her, and
how they wrought the death of one hundred men." We must however
content ourselves with the celebrated Duke of Wharton's poem : —

THE DRINKING MATCH OF EDENHALL.
1 . Cod

d prosper long from being broke
The Luck of Edenhall*
A doleful drinking bout I sing,
There lately did befall.

* The drinking glass above alluded to.

EDENHALL. 359

2. To chase the spleen with cup and cann

Duke Philip took his way ;
Babes yet unborn shall never see
The like of such a day.

3. The stout and ever-thirsty Duke

A vow to God did make
His pleasure within Cumberland
Three live long nights to take.

4. Sir Musgrave too, of Martindale,

A true and worthy knight,
Eftsoon with him a bargain made
In drinking to delight.

5. The bumpers swiftly pass about,1

Six in one hand went round ;
And with their calling for more wine
They made the hafl resound.

6. Now when these merry tidings reach' d

The Earl of Harold's ears,
"And am I" (quoth he, with an oath,)
" Thus slighted by my peers ?

7- Saddle my steed, bring forth my boots,

I'll be with them right quick :
And master Sheriff, come you too, —
We'll know this scurvy trick."

8. " Lo, yonder doth Earl Harold come,"

Did at one table say :
" 'Tis well," replied the mettled Duke,
" How will he get away ?"

9. When thus the Earl began. "Great Duke

I'll know how this did chance ;
Without inviting me : — Sure, this
You did not learn in France.

10. One of us two, for this offence,

Under the board shall lie ;
I know thee well, — a duke thou art,
So some years hence shall I.

11. But trust me, Wharton, pity 'twere

So much good wine to spill
As those companions here may drink
Ere they have had their fill.

12. Let thou and I, in bumpers full,

This grand affair decide."
" Accurs'd be he." Duke Wharton said,
" By whom it is deny'd."

13. To Andrews, and to Hotham fair

Then many a pint went round ;
And many a gallant gentleman
Lay sick upon the ground.

14. When, at last, the Duke found out

He had the Earl secure,
He ply'd him with a full pint-glass,
Which laid him on the floor.

360 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND,

15. Who never spake more words than these,

After he downwards sunk,
" My worthy friends, revenge my fall,
Duke Wharton sees me drunk."

16. Then, with a groan, Duke Philip held

The sick man by the joint ;
And said, " Earl Harold, stead of thee,
Would I had drank this pint.

17. Alack, my very heart doth bleed,

And doth within me sink :
For surely, a more sober Earl
Did never swallow drink."

18. With that the sheriff, in a rage,

To see the Earl so smit,
Vow'd to revenge the dead drunk peer
Upon renown'd Sir Kitt.

19. Then stepp'd a gallant squire forth,

Of visage thin and pale :
Lloyd was his name, and of Gang Hall,
Fast by the river Smale.

20. Who said, 'he would not have it told,

Where Eden river ran,
That unconcern'd he should sit by,
So, sheriff, I'm your man.

21. Now when these tidings reach'd the room

Where the Duke lay in bed,
How that the squire thus suddenly
Upon the floor was laid,

22. " O heavy tidings," (quoth the Duke)

" Cumberland thou witness be,
I have not any captain more
Of such account as he."

23. Like tidings to Earl Thanet came,

Within as short a space,
How that the under- sheriff too
Was fallen from his place.

24. "Now God be with him" (said the Earl)

" Sith 'twill no better be,
I trust I have within my town
As drunken knights as he."

25. Of all the number that were there,

Sir Bains, he scorn'd to yield,
But with a bumper in his hand,
He staggered o'er the field.

26. Thus did this dire contention end,

And each man of the slain
Were quickly carried off to sleep, —
Their senses to regain.

27. God bless the king, the duchess fat,

And keep the land in peace ;
And grant that drunkenness henceforth
'Mong noblemen may cease.

ST. PIERRE. 361

J^t. $tem, to. jDffanmoutf).

The broad brown oak

Stretches his ancient arms, and length of shade,
High o'er the nearer glens ; and the wild ash
Hangs wavering on the upland croft, whose ridge,
With distant sheep, amid the goss and fern,
Is dotted : gleams of momentary light
Shoot o'er the long retiring sands, and fall
Direct upon the battlement and tow'rs
Of St. Pierre's mouldering Castle.

MONMOUTHSHIRE may be justly considered the connecting link between
England and Wales, uniting as it does the scenery, manners, and language
of both and partaking of the beauty of each. The birth-place of the
most renowned of the Plantagenets — " Harry of Monmouth," — the hero
of Agincourt, this picturesque county has many pleasing associations
connected with it, and is surpassingly rich in monastic remains. At
the present day, numerous "stately homes" are scattered over its fair ex-
panse ; all attractive from the natural beauty of the district, and several, re-
markable for their architectural grandeur, or their former celebrity. Among
the latter we may mention Tredegar, Clytha, Llanwern, Llantarnam, Court-
field, Troy House, and ST. PIERRE. St. Pierre stands ot a short distance
from the Severn, nearly half a mile from the high road leading to Chepstow.
It is an ancient structure, much altered and modernized, but still bearing
marks of the period of its erection, which appears to have been in the
fourteenth century. The old gateway, a gothic portal flanked by two pen-
tagon embattled turrets, still remains and is evidently a part of the castel-
lated mansion of feudal, times.

The first Norman Lord of the estate was, in all probability, URTEN DE
ST. PIERRE. In 1764, two curious sepulchral stones were discovered, in
laying the foundation of a building adjoining the house, and are now de-
posited in the church porch.

On one of these stones is carved a plain cross and a sword with an in-
scription round the verge in old French rhyme :

Ici git le cors v de sene pere
Preez pur li en bore manere ;
Qe Jesu pur sa pasiun,
De phecez li done pardun.

Amen P. P.

" Here lies the body of Urien St. Pierre ; pray devoutly for his soul ; that
Jesus, for his passion's sake, would give him pardon for his sins."

The other stone being exactly of the same size and shape, is supposed to
have been a partner to the former ; it contains no inscription but bears the
figure of a hand holding a cross ; the stem of which is ornamented with
rude figures, representing three falcons, a dragon and a lion. Above the
cross is a vacant space for a coat of arms with ten pellets or bezants.

Dr. Milles, late Dean of Exeter concludes, from the sculpture and in-
scriptions, that these stones were about the age of Edward I., and suppose
the words cors v, to be corsu, the old French term for body. Others con-
jecture with greater probability that V is intended for Urieri and that it is
the tomb of Urien St. Pierre, Knt. — According to Dugdale he lived in the
reign of Henry III., and died 1239, leaving by his wife Margaret a son
URIEN DE ST. PIERRE, then sixteen years of age. He was also a knight,

362 THK LANDS OF ENGLAND.

and left issue JOHN DE ST. PIERRE, 8 Edward III., who was probably the
last male heir of that line, for Isabella de St. Piere, his sister and heiress
about 30 Edward III. was married to Sir Walter Cokesey, who died 6
Henry IV. About this period DAVID son of PHILIP AP LEWELLIN was
possessor of St. Pierre ; but whether it devolved on him by purchase or
by marriage, there are no documents to determine. Philip ap Lewellin,
founder of the line of Lewis of St. Pierre, was a younger son of Lewellin,
Lord of St. Clere, co. Carmarthen, who became Lord of Tredegar, by
marrying Angharad, daughter of Sir Morgan Meredith. The succession
has continued in an uninterrupted line from the first settlement of David ap
Philip at St. Pierre to the present time.

The ferry over the new passage, which is certainly not less ancient than
that over the old passage, has from time immemorial belonged to the
Lewises of St. Pierre. An interesting incident in the life of Charles I.,
occasioned its suppression by Oliver Cromwell. The king being pur-
sued by a strong party of the enemy, rode through Shire Newton,
and crossed the Severn to Chisell Pile, on the Gloucestershire side :
The boat had scarcely returned before a corps of about sixty republicans
followed him to the Black Rock and instantly compelled the boatmen, with
drawn swords, to ferry them across. The boatmen who were Royalists,
left them on a reef called the English stones, which is separated from the
Gloucestershire shore by a lake fordable at low water, but as the tide which
had just turned, flowed in with great rapidity, they were all drowned in
attempting to cross. Cromwell informed of this event, abolished the ferry ;
and it was not renewed till 1718. The renewal occasioned a law suit be-
tween the family of St. Pierre and the Duke of Beaufort's guardians. In
the course of the suit, several witnesses were called and depositions taken,
before a commission of the high court of Chancery, held at the Elephant
Coffee House, in Bristol, which stated the undoubted right of Mr. Lewis,
and incidentally mentioned this interesting anecdote relating to the escape
of Charles I.

(©tterbtmt, to. p

"Where schall I byde the?" sayd the Dowglas,

" Or where wylte thow come to me ?"
" At Otterborne in the hygh way,

Ther maist thow well logeed be."

The Battle of Otterburn.

THB character of the Ballad Minstrelsy is rude and careless, but, neverthe-
less it has a charm, and an influence on the imagination, we seek for, in
vain, among the more cultivated verses of modern poetry. " I never
heard," said Sir Philip Sidney, " the old song of ^Percie and Douglas that
I found not my heart moved more than with the sound of a trumpet j and
yet it is sung but by some blind crowder, with no rougher voice than rude
style."

Chevy Chase is familiar to us from our infancy : our first poetic feelings
were awakened by its glowing rhymes, and our 'earliest dreams of martial
prowess and chivalric adventure are associated with " the stout Earl of
Northumberland," and his gallant foe the Douglas.

Oft would we leave, though well beloved our play,
To chat at home the vacant hour away .

OTTERBURN. 363

Many's the time I've scampered down the glade,

To ask .the promised ditty from the maid,

Which well she loved, as well she knew to sing,

While we around her form'd a little ring :

She told of innocence fore-doom'd to bleed,

Of wicked guardians bent on bloody deed,

Or little children murder5 d as they slept ;

While at each pause we wrung our hands and wept.

Beloved moment ! then ' twas first I caught

The first foundation of romantic thought ;

Then first I shed bold Fancy's thrilling tear,

Then first that Poesy charm'd mine infant ear.

Soon stored with much of legendary lore,

The sports of childhood charm'd my soul no more.

Far from the scene of gaiety and noise,

Far, far from turbulent and empty joys,

I hied me to the thick o'er-arching shade,

And, there, on mossy carpet, listless laid,

While at my feet the rippling runnel ran,

The days of wild romance antique I'd scan ;

Soar on the wings of fancy through the air,

To realms of light, and pierce the radiance there.

So powerful indeed is the influence of legendary poetry on the mind that
we seem to have a personal interest in the scenes and localities with which
it is connected ; and visit those cherished spots, with some of that heart
felt devotion which the poetic pilgrim pays to the lowly Home at Stratford
upon Avon or the proud castle of Penshurst,

The village of Otterburn, renowned in border Raid and border Minstrelsy,
has its name from its situation on the burn called the Otter. It basks finely
under the shelter of higher grounds on the north and east. Trees of every
common variety thrive well about it ; and the Otter rising in the moors to
the north, and coming through the lands of Davyshiel, has its steep sides
covered with wood as it approaches the village ; and after passing it, and
turning the wheel of an ancient fuller's mill, winds through rich houghs,
and soon joins the Rede.

The Castle is a modern edifice, with the initials of " John Hall " over one
of its doors. Some part of the ancient building can be traced in it. In
1245, the demesne lands of the manor of Otterburn consisted of 168 acres
of arable, and 43 of meadow ground ; to which were attached a mill, and
cottages and lands for ten bondagers. In 1308, it hud a capital messuage
upon it, besides a park stocked with wild beast, and nearly a league in cir-
cuit. Froissart describes the castle as tolerably strong ; and says that the
Scots, before the English came up with them to fight the field of Otterburne,
"attacked it so long, and so unsuccessfully, that they were fatigued, and
therefore sounded a retreat." In the old list of castles and towers, it is
called the Tower of Otterburne, and said to belong to Sir Robert Umfre-
ville, who died in 1436. It seems probable that the Umfrevilles frequently
came here to indulge in sporting; for though Leland says, " in Ridesdale
no plenty is of wood," yet it had both its game and its covers ; for the old
song of the battle of Otterburne tells us that —

" The roe full reckless there she runs

To make thee game and glee ;
The falcon and the pheasant both

Among the holts on * hee.' "

364 THE LANDS OF ENGLAND.

Lord Dacre, in a letter to Henry the Eighth, mentions his brother Chris-
topher lying all night " at the tower of Otterburne/' on his return from a
destructive raid in Scotland in 1513. After this time the family of Hall
are mentioned as domicilated at this place ; but how they became pos-
sessed of the castle we have met with no account.* That they were
anciently seated in Redesdale is plain, from their clan being the " greatest,
and of most reputation of any " in it, in Henry the Eighth's time. The
records of the courts of the franchise prior to that time have, we appre-
hend, been all lost ; and with them the names and history of its thanes and
public men have perished. But, about the year 1540, "John Hall, of
Otterburne," occurs in the company of the Greys, Ogles, Widdringtons,
and other great country names, as a pensioner of the crown for services
under the deputy warden of the Middle Marches. He was also in the
commission for inclosures in 1552. In 1568, Richard Hall had lands in
Otterburne, Daveyshielhope, and other adjoining places ; and John Hall, of
Otterburne, gentleman, 4th of August, 1630, purchased Tallowlees, of
Robert Ogle, Knight, Lord Ogle. One of the same name and place was a
sequestration under Cromwell ; but the advantages which this family are
supposed to have reaped from the commonwealth were not permitted to re-
main with many generations of their descendants, who were banished from
their ancient seat, and had their property confiscated, by an ill-fated at-
tachment to the house of Stuart. In 1715, John Hall, of Otterburne, a
magistrate of the county, and a man of daring and pertinacious spirit, en-
gaged in the rebellion of that year. A bill for high treason was found
against him, on the 7th of April, and on the 16th of May, 1716, after a
trial at the Exchequer Bar, he was sentenced to die as a traitor.

" God's will be done," was the unhappy man's only exclamation on
judgment being past. There seemed a disposition in government to save
him, for he was five times reprieved ; but his zeal for the justice and con-
fidence in the eventual success of his own cause, so overcame his prudence
as to make him boast that his dying speech would turn the hearts of the
kingdom " to his lawful sovereign King James the Third." At midnight,
on the 12th of July, there was a great shout in the prison for joy, that a
reprieve came down for all but Parson Paul and Justice Hall, who on the
following day, were drawn upon a sledge, from Newgate to Tyburn, and
there executed. The son of this luckless Jacobite, John Hall, had the offer
of a commission in the army, but he rejected the favour of government
with the true spirit of a cavalier He appears to have died unmarried. On
his father's attainder, Otterburn was sold to Gabriel Hall, Esq. of Cat-
cleugh, from whose son Reynald the estate passed, by testamentary devise,
to Robert Ellison, Esq. of Newcastle. That gentleman's son and successor,
Henry Ellison, a merchant at Whitehaven, served as High Sheriff of Cum-
berland, in 1764, but subsequently sold Otterburn to James Storey, Esq.
at whose death, it again devolved, by purchase, on JAMES ELLIS, ESQ.

* Hodgson's Northumberland.

365

THE KNIGHT OF TOGGENBURG.

A B A L L A D ;
BY SCHILLER— TRANSLATED BY A LADY.

" SIR knight ! in faithful sister's love,

Within this heart you live ;
Oh ! ask me not for other love,

No other can I give.
When with you tranquil I would be,

I'd tranquil see you go.
The meaning of that silent tear,

I must not — dare not know."

Speechless he hears his doom of woe,

His faithful heart must bleed,
He closely clasped her in his arms,

And sprung upon his steed.
He gathered quick his trusty men,

His Switxers bold and brave,
Upon their breasts the cross they bind,

And seek the Holy grave.

Of bold and daring deeds of fame

That hero's arm may boast,
His nodding plume was ever seen,

Where thickest thronged the host.
Until th' affrighted Paynims shrink

At that redoubted name —
But to his grieved and broken heart

No ray of comfort came.

Twelve moons have passed, and still he's there — ,

No longer can he stay.
For peace he sought, no peace he finds,

He tears himself away/
And soon he sees with sails all set,

A ship in Jappa's strand,
To breathe the air his loved one breathes,

He seeks his native land.

And now disguised in Pilgrim's dress,

Her castle walls before,
He loudly for admittance knocks,— (,

The porter opes the door —
" She, whom you seek, now wears the veil.

She is the bride of Heaven,
Graced by the Church's pomp and power,

Her vows to God are given."

366 THE KNIGHT OF TOGGENBURG.

Proud stands the castle of his race,

He leaves it — bids adieu,
Sees not again his gallant steed,

Nor falchion tried and true.
Descending from the rocky height

To where the valley lay ;
His knightly form in sackcloth girt,

Unknown he wends his way.

He built himself a lonely cell,

A silent spot he chose —
Where, tow'ring midst the dusky limes,

The convent's walls arose.
And then — from morning's early dawn,

'Till evening's sun had shone,
Hope ! silent hope, within his eye,

He patient sat — alone.

His looks were to the convent turned,

Unwearied from below ;
Still towards the casement of his love,

Until it opened slow.
'Till her loved form he sees appear,

That form and face sd fair,
As glancing o'er the vale beneath,

She looks an angel there.

And then he joyfully withdrew

And laid him down to rest ;
Still longing for the early dawn,

When he'd again be blest.
And thus for many a day and year,

He sat alone and hoped—-
He heaved no sigh, he shed no tear,

For still that casement oped.

Still her loved form he sees appear,

That form and face so fair ;
As glancing o'er the vale beneath.

She looks an angel there.
And there he sat, of life bereft,

As morning once returned,
Still t'wards the casement of his love

That face in death was turned.

367

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

THE EARLDOM OP BERKELEY.

A Correspondent enquires as to the state of this peerage :

It was conferred by patent in 1679 on George 14th Lord Berkeley, of
Berkeley Castle, co. Gloucester, and has remained unassumed since the
decease of Frederick Augustus, 5th Earl, in 1810. Shortly after that event,
the present Earl Fitzhardinge, who then bore the courtesy title of Lord
Dursley, and had a seat, under that designation, in the Lower House of
Parliament, presented a petition to the crown for a writ of summons, as
Earl Berkeley ; but, some doubts having arisen touching the marriage upon
which the Petitioner's right to the peerage rested, the Prince Regent was
pleased to refer the petition to the consideration of the Lords, and a deci-
sion was come to adverse to the claimant. By that judgment, the alleged
marriage of the deceased Lord in 1785 was disallowed, and the inheritance
to the title opened to the eldest son, born after the nuptials of 1796, which
the decision of the Peers confirmed — viz. the Hon. Thomas Morton Fitz-
hardinge Berkeley, who is, de jure, EARL of BERKELEY, but does not as-
sume the title. As he has no child, being in fact unmarried, his next younger
brother the Hon. G. C. Grantley F. Berkeley is heir presumptive to the
Honours. By the will of the late Earl, (in which the marriage of 1785
is solemnly declared to have taken place), Berkeley Castle and all the broad
demesnes of the family are bequeathed to his eldest son, the present Lord
Fitzhardinge, and an annuity of £700 a year is bequeathed to each of his
younger sons, the estates being strictly entailed (after the death of the pre-
sent possessor, Earl Fitzhardinge and his male heirs of his body,) on each
in succession, but a proviso forbids the as sumption of the title by any one
of them under penalty of a forfeiture of all benefit to be derived from the
testamentary bequest.

The deceased Earl's public marriage as confirmed by the Lords' deci-
sion, took place, as we have already mentioned in 1796 : prior, however,
to this date, four of his Lordship's children, by the same lady, were born ;
but the Earl declared that he had been privately married to the Countess,
in Berkeley Church, 30th March, 1785, assigning, as a reason for the
second nuptials, that the witnesses to the first were all dead and the
vouchers to establish all destroyed, in consequence of the great secrecy ob-
served ; and he confirmed that assertion in his last will and testament.

GREAT ALLIANCES.

THERE is no doubt that great alliances have been productive of the happiest
results to families of distinction in times of arbitrary government and great
political changes, and even now they have their advantages, although of a
totally different character, in cementing those friendships amongst the aris-
tocracy and upper classes of society which form an impenetrable barrier to
the visionary principles of republicanism, while they maintain those sacred

368 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

institutions, under which England has so long flourished the pride and envy
of the world. And although many are of opinion that society is too exclu-
sive in this country, it cannot be denied that as soon as a person in the
middle or even humbler class of life shall have distinguished himself, either
by talent, or courage, or by industry and its consequence — wealth, these
considerations raise him to an equality with those of the higher class, whence
alliances are contracted, which tend on each occasion to strengthen the
phalanx of aristocracy, and destroys at once the absurd and chimerical idea
of our Gallic neighbours, that the destruction of the English aristocracy is
essential to the happiness of the people.

Thus it is that the House of Peers, however noble its members, however
exalted its rank, forms but a small portion of the real aristocracy of the land.
The private gentleman of ancient family, and often of illustrious descent
from princes and peers, from warriors and statesmen who have nobly served
their country, are equally members of that body of which the hereditary
legislators are but a portion, generally descending from them, as cadets of
their families obliged to embrace some profession for the means of existence.

There are to be found in history and in our own times most honourable
examples of men rising from the humblest class of life without any influence
whatever, beyond their own individual merit, to whom as a distinctive mark,
of which they might well be proud, should be given as a motto with their
patents of creation " virtus sola nobilitas." But even here, despite the opi-
nions of cold philosophy, will be found in the second generation an alliance
with antiquity as necessary to ensure the full measure of respect to nobility.
Thus it happens, almost invariably, that the daughters of a great nobleman,
no matter how numerous may be his family, are eagerly sought after for the
honour of the alliance, and this feeling of pride of ancestry is the only ex-
ception to the overpowering question of money. Instances, however, are
to be found of great alliances being formed from worthier motives, although
in connection or rather coupled with noble birth. One of the most remark-
able of which occurred in the reign of King James the First in the family of
John Lord Harington of Exton, co. Rutland, which estate is now the pro-
perty of the Earl of Gainsborough, who descends from one of his lord-
ship's daughters, and has never been out of the possession of his lordship
and his paternal and maternal ancestors from the Conquest, when it was
granted to Waltheof or Wallef, Earl of Huntingdon, who had espoused
Judith the Conqueror's niece.*

The lineage of the Haringtons, as shown in the note below, and particu-
larly at that period of aristocratic sway, must have been an important feature
with any gentleman of the day in fixing his choice of a wife, but added to

* Waltheof s daughter and heir Matilda (relict of Simon de St. Liz, Earl of Hun-
tingdon, jure uxoris,) remarried David Earl of Angus and Huntingdon (3rd son of Henry
Prince of Scotland, by Matilda, daughter and coheir of Hugh Lupus, Earl of Chester,)
and had issue a daughter and heir, who married John deBrus, grandson of Bernard de
Brus brother to Robert Earl of Carrick,from whom the royal line of Scotland descended.
Joan, daughter and heir of the above John de Brus, married Sir Nicolas Grene, Knt., in
whose right he became owner of Exton, and his only daughter and heir married Thomas
Culpeper, whose son Sir Thomas Culpeper, Knt. had an only daughter and heiress Cathe-
rine, married to John Harington, of Exton in right of his wife, whose great grandson
John Harington of Exton married Elizabeth daughter and coheir of Robert Moton of
Peckleton, co. Lincoln, whose eldest son Sir James Harington, of Exton, Sheriff of
Rutland, married Lucy daughter of Sir William Sidney, of Penshurst, Knt., and was the
father of John created Baron Harington of Exton, Sir Henry, of whom above, and
Sir James ancestor of the author of Oceana, and the present Sir John Harington,
of Reddlington, Bart.

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

the royal and illustrious descents, of which Wright, in his History and Anti-
quities of Rutland, speaks in most glowing terms, as well as Fuller, in his
Worthies ; both of whom state that " this family was related or nearly
allied to eight dukes, three marquises, seventy earls, nine counts, twenty-
seven viscounts, and thirty-six barons, amongst whom were sixteen knights
of the garter;" the personal consideration in which Lord Harington of
Exton was held by the King (James I.) who had selected him, from his
learning and great accomplishments, as the fittest person in the kingdom to
superintend the education of his daughter, the much beloved princess Eliza-
beth, wife of the Elector Palatine, and subsequently Queen of Bohemia, the
most popular, the most accomplished, but the most unfortunate of princesses,
— it cannot be wondered at that such a man should find good husbands for
his daughters, or that the daughters of such a man should have been so
much in request. Their alliances, however, in the whole were greater than
perhaps ever occurred in one and so numerous a family — for his lordship
had eight daughters.

1st. Elizabeth m. Sir Edward Montague, father of the Lord Montague,
the Earl of Manchester and Lord Privy Seal, and Sir Edward Montague,
afterwards Earl of Sandwich.

2d. Frances m. Sir Edward Lee, created Lord Chichester and Earl of
Dunsmore, one of whose daughters m. the Earl of Southampton (and their
daughter m. the Earl of Northumberland), and the other m. Colonel Villiers,
and was governess to the Lady Mary, afterwards the wife of William the
Third.

3d. Margaret m. Don Bonnito de Sisnores, Duke of Fantesquo in Spain,
whose only daughter m. the Duke de Ferio, whose daughter and heir m. the
King of Portugal.

4th. Katherine m. Sir Edward Dimmock, of Lincolnshire, Knt.

5th. Mary m. Sir Edward Wingfield, Krit., of an ancient and noble
family in Kent.

6th. Mabelle m. Sir Andrew Noell, Lord Cambden, ancestor of the
present Earl of Gainsborough, owner of Exton, which estate his ancestor
obtained partly by inheritance, and partly by arrangement with the co-
heiresses, his sisters in law and nieces.

7th. Sarah m. Lord Hastings, son of the Earl of Huntingdon.

8th. Theodosia m. Lord Dudley of Dudley Castle, one of whose daughters
m. the Earl of Hume in Scotland, and had issue two daughters, m. to the
Duke of Lauderdale and the Lord Morrice.

John, the only brother of these ladies, 2d Baron Harington of Exton,
died without issue male, when his uncle Sir Henry Harington, of Elms-
thorpe, who m. the dau. and coheir of Francis A gar, a privy councillor for
Ireland, became the head of the family, and upon the death of his two sons,
who were slain in battle, the eldest male line of the Haririgtons was again
broken, for the third time (the ancestors of the first possessor of Exton in
the Harington family having been summoned to Parliament as Barons of
Harington in Cumberland, by King Edward III., a title which is still in
abeyance), and the two daughters became eventually his coheiresses ; the
youngest was maid of honour to the Queen of Bohemia, and followed her
in all her wanderings and distresses in the Palatinate, and the eldest Eliza-
beth Harington, married the celebrated Sir Benjamin Rudyard, of West
Woodhay, in co. Bucks, and originally of Rudyard Hall, near Leek, in
Staffordshire, and there seated at the time of the Conquest, whose represen-

3/0 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

tative and heiress of the family upon the death of her brother, Captain Ben-
jamin Rudyard, of the Coldstream Guards, unmarried, was tbe late Mrs.
Jane Shipley, mother of the late General Sir Charles Shipley.

In the church of Exton is the following curious monumental inscription,
recording the death of the before named Sir Nicholas Greene, of Exton,
whose granddaughter brought that [beautiful estate into the Harington
family.

Vous qe par ycy passor ez

Pur 1'alms Nicol Grene priez,

Son corps gist South cette pere

Par la mort qe taunt est fere,

En la cynkaun tisrae an mort luy prist

Mercy luy fate Jesu Christ, Amen.

Which may be rendered into equally quaint English as follows : —

All ye who e'er pass by this waye

For Nicol Grene his soul do praye,

His bodie south of this stone lyes

For proud deathe claimed him as his prize,

Deathe took him in his fiftieth yere

But Jesus Christ his soul will spare, Amen.

PECULIAR PRIVILEGES.

ANTIQUARIANS and genealogists have ever dwelt with interest upon the
chivalrous actions of our ancestors and the privileges they acquired at dif-
ferent periods of the history of this country, many of which are remarkable,
but none so singular, so striking, so illustrative of the bold and daring spirit
of our old barons, as that of " wearing the hat in the royal presence," ac-
corded by King John to De Courcy. Earl of Ulster, (direct ancestor of the
premier Baron of Ireland, Lord Kinsale) and his heirs for ever. It is
however not a little singular that such slight notice should have been taken
of the circumstances under which that privilege was acquired by subsequent
historians, for it is not pretended by any writer that the story is fabulous ;
and were such a statement made, the existence of the grant would set the
matter at rest. The story itself may be accompanied by some exaggerations
in its detail ; but if it be true that De Courcy refused to obey both the com-
mands and intreaties of the king, but was instantly roused to an acceptance
of the French knight's challenge in the cause of his country, not only must
the illustrious name of De Courcy stand forth prominently as one of Eng-
land's earliest patriots, but the very demand for himself and his heirs for
ever to remain covered in the royal presence must have displayed the con-
tempt in which he held King John, and the scorn with which he treated his
protestations of gratitude. History however affirms that the bargain was
made, De Courcy was to have whatever he demanded, and the royal word
was pledged solemnly to that effect as a king and a knight in the presence of
a king and the flower of chivalry. That De Courcy should make so bold a
demand, one which from his known aversion to the king was in itself an
aggravated insult, is astonishing for the times in which he lived, had he
asked for the restoration of his earldom, of which he had been so unjustly
deprived, his interests (a feeling which the men of those days as well as
these generally consulted) would have been better served ; but his desire to
mortify the monarch was the ruling passion with him, and he succeeded,
and he and his heirs to this day have preserved their barony and their pri-

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 371

vilege, although no reason has ever been advanced to shew why the earldom
itself should not have been restored. Indeed, if not the law, custom and
practice have played very strange vagaries upon the whole question of im-
properly attainted persons and titles, who according to all justice when
proved to be innocent, should have been restored in title as well as blood,
and many of our best lawyers are of opinion, that no time ought to bar the
rights of their descendants from the consideration of the crown.

In the above cited case, it is evident that feelings of contempt, revenge,
and scorn on the part of a subject towards his Sovereign were the cause of
the enjoyment of so singular a privilege by the De Courcy's ; at any rate a
reason for exacting it after the unconditional promise of the king to do
whatever he asked, is apparent ; but how will antiquarians account for a pre-
cisely similar grant in all respects, indeed of a more extended nature, al-
though not hereditary, on the part of England's capital tyrant Henry VIII.,
towards a private gentleman, Francis the son and heir of Mr. Christopher
Brown of Tolethorp, in the county of Rutland ? It is true that Mr. Chris-
topher Brown assisted Henry VII. in his wars against Richard III., for which
that monarch might have recompensed him with a peerage, or his successor
might have amply rewarded his son Francis by honours or abbeys, as peer-
ages and church lands were equally within his gift, although more lavish
of that which did not belong to him. But whatever may have been the
cause it is quite clear that Henry VIII. granted to Francis Brown of
Tolethorp, Esquire, a charter of exemption from serving on any jury what-
ever, or the office of sheriff or escheator, granting also by the same deed
to the said Francis Brown the liberty and privilege to be covered in the
presence of him the said King Henry VIII. , his heirs, and all other great
persons spiritual or temporal of this kingdom for the term of his the said
Francis Browne's life. It would be interesting to trace the origin of the
grant, although curious as it is, there can be no doubt that the suggestion
must have emanated from the king himself during one of his royal freaks
of merriment, which, according to all historians, approached as near as pos-
sible to insanity ; and as Mr. Brown died with a head on his shoulders, it is
equally probable that he never enjoyed the use of the privilege in question
in the presence of his sovereign. Tolethorp, the seat of this gentleman,
was purchased by his ancestor John Brown, Esq. of Stafford, in the 50th
of Edward III. of Sir Thomas Burton, son and heir of Sir William Burton,
one of the Justices of the King's Bench, from the 17th of Edward III. to
the 36th of that king's reign, in whose family the estate had been from the
9th of Edward II. Mr. Francis Brown left a son and heir Anthony, who
had issue Thomas, whose eldest son Christopher Brown, of Tolethorp, Esq.
was living in 1684.

Arms. — sa. three mullets ar.

VOL. IV. NO. XVIII. '2 E

372

THEATRES.

SHAKESPEARE IN SEPTEMBER.

THE glories of her Majesty's Theatre are now suspended. Jenny Lind is en-
chanting the provinces ; her's is a temporary absence, however, for the
nightingale returns with the spring to London. The attractions of the
French classic drama have ceased for the present, with the departure of
Rachel. In fine, the fascinations of the politer stage have fled for a while
with the great crowd of fashion that have fostered them so devotedly. In
the interval, the honied voice of Shakespeare is heard again, though in the
distance. The far off theatre of Sadler's Wells, (though not too far off
for its merits), has re-opened with the play of Cymbeline, that piece of
fiction so beautifully strange and romantic, where the poet seems to have
been seized with one of his fine fits of tragi-comic inspiration, and to
have roamed in a land of bright imagination, to which mortal, other than
himself, could make no approach: The very singularity of Cymbeline
stamps it at once the work of Shakespeare.

" Cymbeline/' (says Schlegel,) " is also one of Shakespeare'^ most won-
derful compositions. He has here connected a novel of Boccacio with
traditionary tales of the ancient Britons, reaching back to the times of
the first Roman Emperors, and he has contrived, by the most gentle
transitions, to blend together into one harmonious whole, the social man-
ners of the latest times with heroic deeds, and even with appearances of
the gods. In the character of Imogen, not a feature of female excel-
lence is forgotten : her chaste tenderness, her softness, her virgin pride,
her boundless resignation, arid her magnanimity towards her mistaken
husband, by whom she is unjustly persecuted j her ad/entures in dis-
guise, her apparent death, and her recovery, form altogether a picture
equally tender and affecting."

In producing Cymbeline, and in the manner in which he has produced
it at Sadler's Wells, Mr. Phelps displays that refined taste for the beau-
ties of the supreme dramatist which has already told so much to his
credit. The manner in which the play is got up at his theatre, is really
admirable. Scenery, dresses, groupings, and other arrangements are most
creditably true and picturesque. The acting was good throughout. Phelps
himself played Leonatus Posthumus with feeling and energy. The part
of the clownish prince, Cloten, was represented with much comic force
by Scharf, though we do not think that he has quite hit the idea of
the character. Mr. Scharf has usually so correct a notion of Shakespeare,
that we almost hesitate to differ with him j yet we deem Cloten not a
fribble, but a kind of brute of the Quilp species, whose uncouth appear-
ance, and savage manners, should form the humour of the performance.
But the brightness of this drama certainly lies in that exquisite creation,
Imogen, — the gentle, graceful, all-confiding, all-loving Imogen. Miss
Laura Addison played the part to perfection ; she had exactly caught the
thought and tone Shakspeare meant to exhibit. Imogen is dignified in
her innocence, and, though passive under suffering, is impatient of in-
sult. She bears calmly and courageously all woe for her lord's sake 3
badly as he treats her, she never breathes word against him, and her
affection leads to anger, when aught is said by others in his disparage-

THEATRES. S7S

ment ; this enhances the interest and admiration she excites, and in this
Miss Addison was to the life the Imogen of the poet. She gave full
effect to that famous scene where lachimo first introduces himself to
her, endeavouring to make her doubt the constancy of her husband, and
then insinuates his own foul purpose. The contrast between the wife
when injured by her husband, and when insulted by another, Miss Addi-
son made most impressive in the following lines : —

lachimo Be revenged ;

Or she that bore you, was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.

Imogen. Revenged !

How should I be reveng'd ? If this be true,
(As I have such a heart, that both mine ears
Must not in haste abuse,) if it be true,
How shall I be reveng'd ?

lachimo. Should he make me

Live like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets ;
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse ? Revenge it 1
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure ;
More noble than that runagate to your bed ;
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.

Imogen. What, ho ! Pisano !

lachimo. Let me my service tender on your lips.

Imogen. Away ! — I do condemn mine ears that have
So long attended thee. — If thou wert honourable,
Thou would'st have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek'st ; as base as strange.
Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is far
From thy report, as thou from honour ; and
Solicit'st here a lady, that disdains
Thee and the devil alike.— What, ho ! Pisanio !—
The king iny father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault ; if he shall think it fit,
A saucy stranger, in his court, to mart
As in a Romish stew, and to expound
His beastly mind to us — he hath a court
He little cares for, and a daughter whom
He not respects at all. — What ho, Pisanio ! —

The speech of Imogen as she approached, in the youth's dress, the
cave of Belarius, was delivered with intense feeling ; —

Imogen. I see, a man's life is a tedious one :
I have tir'd myself; and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
But that my resolution helps me. — Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio showed thee,
Thou wast within a ken : O Jove ! I think,
Foundations fly the wretched : such, I mean,
Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me,
I could not miss my way : Will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them ; knowing 'tis
A puishment, or trial ? Yes ; no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true : To lapse in fulness
Is sorer, than to lie for need ; and falsehood
Is worse in kings, than beggars. — My dear lord !
Thou art one o' the false ones : Now I think on thee
My hunger's gone ; but even before, I was

374 THEATRES.

At point to sink for food. —But what is this ?

Here is a path to it : 'Tis some savage hold :

I were best not call ; I dare not call : yet famine,

Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.

Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards ; hardness ever

Of hardiness is mother. — Ho ! who's here ?

If any thing that's civil, speak ; if savage,

Take, or lend. — Ho ! — No answer? then I'll enter,

Best draw my sword ; and if mine enemy

But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.

Such a foe, good heavens !

This performance of Cymbeline augurs well for the re-opening of
Sadler's Wells. Not alone here, however, but in another quarter of the
town, an endeavour is making to restore the superior drama of the
English stage. A hitherto obscure theatre in Marylebone has been opened
by Mrs. Warner, with much of that attraction which refined taste and real
intellect can bestow upon it. At this new place of entertainment, Shak-
speare is also in the ascendent. The play chosen is "The Winter's
Tale/' a beautiful drama, which bears the character and stamp of its
mighty author in its whole conception, and in every line of its verse. In
this play, Leontes, with his absurd, fierce jealousy, and Hermione, that
personification of a devoted gentle wife, borne down by wrongs and sor-
row, are the grander and more sombre tints of the painting: Florizel and
Perdita — an exceedingly lovely creation of the poet, — with their romantic
attachments, fill up the picturesque part; and the lighter touches are ad-
mirably worked out in the portraits of Autolycus, a prince among rogues,
and of the shepherd and his clownish son. The gloom vividly fronts the
gaiety ; the dignity, the drollery ; and the graceful, the grotesque : by
such marks we recognize the work of Shakespeare. There is a certain
life infused into the representation of the Winter's Tale at the Marylebone
Theatre, which appears in the exertions of the actors employed, which
asserts itself in the costumes, which speaks through the appropriate sce-
nery, and which altogether leaves an exhilirating impression on the
spectator.

The part of Hermione was excellently sustained by Mrs. Warner.
The combination of suavity and queenly dignity, and afterwards of
strength in conscious right with physical debility, were most successful.
The other actors and actresses were of such tolerable cultivation and
power as to render this representation of the Winter's Tale, an interest-
ing and harmonious whole.

The prosperity of Sadler's Wells, and this new success of another
theatre belonging to the same intellectual class, give cheering proof
that the people of London are never dead to that sense of sublime
enjoyment which lies in the works of our mighty Shakespeare. His house
at Stratford has just been purchased by a noble association, with the
approbation of all England. Oh ! may the day be not far distant when
his wonders may be restored in their full magnificence to the British
stage ! It is right that perfection should be always honoured and encou-
raged. It is fair that the Opera and Jenny Lind, that the French theatre
and its admirable acting, should be fostered by a rich and refined popu-
lation 5 but, without deteriorating from this, there is quite room enough
for a great Shakespearian temple, where such laudable undertakings as those
of Mr. Phelps and Mrs. Warner might be carried out to eminent success.

M. Jullien has it appears become the lessee of Drury Lane Theatre,
and announces that " by providing during the year a variety of enter-

THEATRES EXHIBITIONS. ', 3*5

taininents, and by producing each with the same excellence and com-
pleteness which he trusts has characterized his former works, he hopes
to secure that approbation and consequent success which will well com-
pensate him for all his labours and anxieties."

Prosperity certainly seems ever to attend M. Jullien's undertakings,
and we have no doubt this theatre, under his management, will become
a very splendid* affair. He opens in October, with a series of his famous
concerts, but he promises in December a " Grand Opera" on a new and
magnificent scale.

EXHIBITIONS.

BURFORD'S PANORAMA, LEICESTER SQUARE. VIEW OF THE HIMALAYA
MOUNTAINS WITH THB BRITISH STATIONS OF KUSSAWLEE, SOOBATHOO
AND SIMLA, AND A VAST EXTENT OF THE PLAINS OF HINDOSTAN.

THIS, from its very singularity, is a most interesting panorama. It dis-
plays a scene of vastness, of wildness, of natural magnificence that is
not to be surpassed in any other part of the world. The artist has won-
derfully realised the splendour of the view, and one may, in looking on
it, wander at once, in imagination and almost substantially, to this territory
of icy horror, and sunny fertility. The book given at the panorama thus
graphically describes the Himalaya mountains :

" The Himalaya is a stupendous and magnificent chain of mountains in
Asia, extending from the seventy-third degree of east longitude, along
the north of Hindostan to the borders of China, separating Hindostan
from Tibet and Tartary, and forming the general boundary of Tibet
through its whole extent, from Cabul to Upper Assam. This vast chain
was the Imaus and Emodus of the ancients, and was sometimes termed
the Indian Caucasus ; the natives at present call it the Hindoo Koosh, or
Indian mountains, as well as Himalaya, a Sanscrit word, signifying snowy.
On the side of Hindostan, the central part of the ridge rises rapidly from
a level into sharp and precipitous cliffs, far exceeding the Andes in
height, whilst the Tibet side falls gradually into green hills, and ends in
sloping plains. The mountains, which vary from seventy to one hun-
dred and eighty miles in breadth, run in irregular ridges of every ima-
ginable shape, and are undivided by any valley of consequence from the
one plain to the other. The various peaks of the snowy ridge seen, are
estimated to be from 16/203 to 25,742 feet in height.

" The mountain from which the present panorama is taken, from its
height and situation, commands a most, comprehensive view of this vast
and fearfully imposing scene — a scene that defies language to convey an
adequate idea of, so grand are its colossal proportions, so sublime and
glorious its general effect. Towards the north, the immediate fore-
ground is broken by precipitous rocks, rugged cliff?, wooded heights,
and cultivated ravines, some of which, two or three thousand feet in
depth, have their sides covered with dark forests, where it is impossible
to cultivate th'e soil ; but where the ground admits of husbandry, even
when the descents are most precipitous, successive lines of terraces ap-

3«5 EXHIBITIONS.

pear, like the steps of some magnificent amphitheatre, upon which the
produce waves in many colored hues, abundantly irrigated by stream-
lets, frequently conducted from very remote springs. In many places
these terraced fields are carried up to an extraordinary height, even to
the very tops of the ranges, in situations apparently inaccessible, and
there the effects of the elevation upon the temperature of the atmo-
sphere are strikingly observable from the diversity of tints the produce
assumes, the highest being in fresh blade brilliantly green, whilst the
lowest is sear and ripe. Many small hamlets and neat houses are dotted
about, presenting a look of neatness and comfort ; shut out from the
world, their inhabitants, if they do not live in peace among themselves,
are at least undisturbed by the visits of travellers.

" All around the lower hills spread out in every direction, romantic and
picturesque, mountain, plain, and precipice, in ten thousand varied forms,
blended by distance, and softened by the various tints of sunshine and
shade j shattered peaks, black mural precipices, ravines purple from
their depths, and graceful hills covered most luxuriantly with dark
cedars, oaks clustered with acorns, and rhododendrons blushing with
scarlet bloom. The British station of Soobathoo is seen on one side in
an arid plain, and Simla, another station, with the mountain of Jacko
on which it is partly built, stands boldly prominent in front. Almost
on a level with the spectator are the summits of the Bayree, Daybee, and
Kurroll mountains, and rising still higher the Whartoo, Choor, and Sir-
gool, with their peaks covered with snow, like giants mantled in white,
shining brilliantly against the azure depth of the heavens. These, al-
though but mere vassals of the mighty Himalaya, would be the boast of
other countries, as they rise from eight to twelve thousand feet per-
pendicular height.

"In the extreme distance the wide stretching snowy range occupies an
immense extent of uninterrupted outline, and fascinates the eye with its
huge but aerial sublimity, —

" Snow piled on snow, the mass appears,
The gathered winter of ten thousand years."

A wide undulating plain of everlasting snow, from which three mighty
peaks, called the Jumnootree, shoot up to an immense altitude ; two
joined by a ridge being irregular, curiously rugged, and majestically dis-
tinct ; the third, at some distance, being isolated and black, forming a
singular contrast with the hoary desert around. Other immense peaks,
probably above the source of the Ganges, are seen towards the east, suc-
ceeded again by others, until lost in the vast and boundless distance.
Over this forlorn and desolate field of snow, and between the peaks, are
the passes which lead into Koonawur and Chinese Tartary, the principal
of which, the Shatool, Yoosoo, and Boorendoo passes, although nearly
fifty miles distant, being distinctly visible, such is the delicate purity of
the atmosphere.

" In the opposite direction towards the south is the beautiful valley of
Pinjore, and the verge of sight melting into a line of vapour scarcely to
be distinguished from the horizon, is bounded by the Punjab, the glow-
ing plains around Sirhind, the North- West Provinces, the country to-
wards Bengal, and it is said even to the Pir Panjal of Cashmir ; the whole
like an exquisite map spread out beneath, through which the Sutlej, the
Ganges, the Indus, and numerous tributary streams glittering like veins

EXHIBITIONS. ?T7

of silver, are seen winding amongst the fertile plains, until lost in the
blue etherial mi«t of the distance. Dark lines and spots mark towns and
villages, and the luridly glaring air over them indicates a burning wind
which never reaches this happy mountain region. Altogether the scene
is one of sublime magnificence, once seen, never to be forgotten : above,
around, beneath, all is on the grandest of Nature's scales — the beauti-
ful, the terrific, fertility and barrenness finely contrasted. On the one
side a noble, lovely, and almost boundless prospect, a fairy -like scene,
gorgeously glowing under the deep splendour of an Asiatic sky ; on the
other,

" Nature's bulwark, built by time,
'Gainst eternity to stand,
Mountains terribly sublime,"

which are not to be equalled for extent and height in the whole world,
the vastness of which is almost oppressive ; yet when some definite idea
of their size can be formed, their immensity strikes the mind with awe,
whilst the deep and universal repose, and voluptuous tranquillity, so
soothing to the senses, leads to their contemplation with silent admira-
tion, unmixed pleasure, and pure natural devotion.

" This first barrier of mountains, enormous as it is, peaks of every ima-
ginable shape, varying in height from 16,203 to 25,749 feet, from one
to ten thousand feet of which is eternal snow,* is but the screen to other
assemblages of higher mountains, which again are still inferior to the
world like bulwarks on the left bank of the Indus, from whence they
slope to the Steppes of Tartary, and are at length lost in the immeasur-
able deserts of Gobi, and the deep woods and countless marshes of Si-
beria, the summits of which ranges have been estimated at the enormous
elevation of 30,0()0 feet, or nearly six miles perpendicular height. A
mournful, awful, and barren region, where surrounded by the most gigan-
tic pillars of the universe, sublimity veiled in mystery sits fettered to
desolation.

"The immense space occupied by the mountains, varying, as before
mentioned, from 70 to 180 miles in breadth, is divided into a number of
small states, governed by Rajahs or Ranas, and very thinly populated.
Many are independent, others are tributary to Tibet, Nepaul, Cabul, &c.
The inhabitants are generally a bold and hardy race —

" Wild warriors of the Turquoise Hills, — and those
Who dwell beyond the everlasting snows
Of Hindoo Koosh, in stormy freedom bred,
Their fort, the rock, their camp, the torrent's bed. "

" The hill porters, or Coolies, are celebrated for their great powers of en-
durance, and the Ghoorca regiments, raised in the Nepaul States, have
proved themselves good soldiers, by the effective services they rendered
at Sobraon and elsewhere. The women in most parts are good-looking
and healthy. The houses are generally placed in picturesque and
sheltered situations, and are well built ; the severity of the winter, and

* The line of eternal snow in the latitude 30°, 31', in Asia, is fixable at 15,000 feet
on the southern or Indian aspect of the Himalaya mountains, and on the northern (not
the Tartaric) may be concluded at 14,500 ; but there are so many conflicting conditions
of the question, that no precise boundary can be assigned without an explanation. — G.
Gerard's Visit to Shatool, &>c.

378 EXHIBITION'S.

the heavy rains, which continue for several months, rendering it neces-
sary that they should be strong. The mountains are considered very
sacred, consequently temples dedicated to Krishna, Siva, and other
Hindoo deities, are found in all parts, and Brahmins are numerous. The
wealth of the mountaineers consists in their flocks of sheep, goats, and
a few horned cattle of a small breed j wild animals are rarely seen,
occasionally perhaps a tiger or panther, and a few bears ; deer are by
no means numerous, but the domestic cat is met with every where.
"Wheat, barley, rice, as well as potatoes, and many European vegetables,
are cultivated for use, and poppies and ginger for trade ; scarcity and
famine often occur in the most elevated parts, from the grain not ripen-
ing, when the inhabitants eat their sheep and goats, dried fruit , and
roots. Many of the finest fruits of Europe are cultivated, the apricot
especially is abundant round every inhabited spot, and is frequently the
only vestige of long deserted villages ; wild strawberries, raspberries,
grapes, pears, mulberries, and all sorts of nuts are in profusion, to the
elevation of 7,000 or 8,OOO feet, and in some instances higher. In
many parts the forests and woods present an appearance scarcely differ-
ing from the most splendid and luxuriant British scenery : the cedar,
oak, sycamore, deodar, yew, &c., seem to attain their best growth at
the height of 10,000 or 1J,000 feet, where trees of the noblest size
flourish, die, and fall unheeded, returning to their primeval element to
afford nourishment to another race. Flowers are abundant, and are
much prized, especially the double white rose of India, which is found
wild in all parts, creeping to the tops of the tallest trees, the flowers
hanging in thousands of beautiful clusters ; the rhododendron, also, is
very ornamental, it here grows to the height of forty or fifty feei, and
is so numerous that the banks and dells in some parts are covered with
its extraordinary magnificent scarlet or delicate pink flowers.

" Grain crops ripenat the height of 10,000 feet, and the birch and jum-
per flourish at 13,000 -, at 14,000 the grass begins to break, but still
slips of verdure and many hardy plants flower to 14,500 or 15,000 feet ;
patches of soil are even met with, and plants of the cryptogamous
lichen family vegetate at 16,000 feet absolute elevation, above which
vegetable life ceases altogether."

379

LITERATURE.

REMAINS HISTORICAL AND LITERARY, connected with the Palatine
counties of Lancaster and Chester, published by the Chetham Society,
Vols. X. XI. THE COUCHER BOOK OR CHARTULARY OF WHALLEY
ABBKY. Edited by W. A. HULTON, ESQ. Vols. I. II. Printed for
the Chetham Society. 1847.

BY the publication of this valuable collection of ancient documents
relative to Lancashire and Cheshire, Mr. Hulton adds new credit to the
Chetham Society, and renders essential service to the public. The
transcription of this legal Chartulary, and the correction of it as it went
through the press, must of necessity have been confided to a lawyer :
Mr. Hulton, a counsel of extensive knowledge and practice, was the
very person to undertake the task. His performance of it displays won-
derful care and patience ; and we have no doubt the accuracy of the
whole may be relied on.

Mr. Hulton prefaces his labours with a luminous introduction. He
gives in it the following history of the Abbey of Whalley whence this
Chartulary comes :

"The subject itself will not be inaptly introduced by a slight sketch of the
history of the Abbey, and its parent house, Stanlawe.

" The monastery of Stanlawe was most probably an affiliation from its neigh-
bour, Combermere. It was founded by John, constable of Chester, on the eve
of his departure for the Holy Land, in the year 11/8, at that period when the
vibrations of the movement in favour of holy poverty, originated by our country-
man, St. Stephen, at Citeaux, were the strongest. The abbey was of the Cister-
cian order ; it was dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the patron saint of the
Cistercians ; the founder directed that it should be called Locus Benedictus ; and
he endowed it with the townships of Staneye and Aston.

" Its site was well calculated to cany out the views of the founder of that
ascetic order. Placed on a low rock at the confluence of the Gowy and the
Mersey, in one of the most barren spots in Cheshire, it was a fitting place for
the followers of those devoted men who looked on the loneliness and sterility of
Citeaux as its chief recommendation. And if it be true, as alleged, that Citeaux
derived its name from the flags and bulrushes which were found there in abun-
dance, the site may have been endeared to the monks by a similarity in its natural
productions.

s< Nothing is recorded of the monastery for nearly half a century after its
foundation. The fruits of their patient poverty then began to appear ; and it
was discovered that the place was not without its peculiar advantages. Robert
de Lascy, the last of the original De -Lascys, had died ; the descent of his im-
mense possessions had enriched Roger, constable of Chester ; and a monastery,
founded by his father, and situated close to his paternal castle of Halton, became
the fitting recipient of his bounty. Towards the close of a turbulent life, he
endowed Stanlawe with the advowson of the church of Rochdale, four bovates of
land in Castleton, the lordship of Merland, the waste of Brendewood, and the
township of Little Woolton ; and, from, motives of gratitude towards the enrcher
of his family, the successive grants were made, not merely for the souls of himself,
his father, and mother, but also for the soul of Robert de Lascy.

380 LITERATURE.

" His example was followed by his descendants ; and the grants of the advow-
sons of the churches of Blackburn and Eccles, and of the township of Steyninges,
by John de Lascy; and of the township of Cronton by Edmund de Lascy,
showed the steady attachment of the house to the family monastery of Stanlawe.
But'it was reserved for ' the great and good ' Henry de Lascy, earl of Lincoln, to
confer the brightest gem on the fortunate abbey, in the advowson of the church

of Whalley.

*J * * * * * *

" This increase of wealth led to its natural consequences ; vows of poverty,
uttered when worldly possessions were wanting, were forgotten, and towards the
close of the thirteenth century the monks longed for a translation to a more con-
genial site. The inconveniences of the locality began to be perceived, and if the
chronicle of St. Werburgh be correct, the monks met with some well-timed mis-
fortunes. In 1279, the sea broke in upon Stanlawe, did the greatest damage,
interrupted the highway, and washed down the bridge towards Chester, In 1287
the great tower of the church was blown down ; and two years after, not only
did the greatest part of the abbey perish in a conflagration, but the sea a second
time inundated the abbey, and stood in the outhouses to the depth of three or
four feet.

" The bounty of Earl Henry was opportune ; and under this accumulation of
misfortunes the monks petitioned Pope Nicholas IV. to grant them permission
to remove to Whalley. He acceded to their request ; and, in 1289, a bull was
issued authorising their translation, and empowering them to appropriate the
revenues of the church and its dependencies, on the condition of endowing a
sufficient vicarage, whenever the opportunity of removal should be afforded by
the resignation or death of the then incumbent. This bull was revoked by
Boniface VIII., but it was afterwards confirmed, and the desired privileges
granted, by the same supreme pontiff.

" The event, so anxiously looked for by the monks at Stanlawe, took place on
the feast of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian, in the year 1294, when Peter de Cestria,
the last secular rector of Whalley, died. But the translation was delayed by
the want of an appropriation, and a ratification by the founder. These were
obtained in 1295 ; and on the 4th April, 1296, Gregory de Northbury, the then
abbot, and his monks, took possession of Whalley ; the former abbot, Robert de
Haworth, preferring to remain at Stanlawe

" But Haworth had most probably arrived at that time when ' those that
look out of the windows be darkened,' for it is perhaps difficult to imagine a
stronger contrast than must have been afforded by the two sites of Stanlawe and
Whalley. Mr. Ormerod says : ' Even at the present day it is difficult to select
in Cheshire a scene of more comfortless desolation than this cheerless marsh ;
barely fenced from the waters by embankments on the north ; shut out by naked
knolls from the fairer country which spreads along the feet of the forest hills on
the south-east ; and approached by one miserable trackway of mud ; whilst
every road that leads to the haunts of men seems to diverge in its course as it
approaches the Locus Benedictus of Stanlawe.' While the words of Dr. Whitaker,
in describing the situation of Whalley, are tinted with a Claude-like warmth : ' A
copious stream to the south, a moderate expanse of rich meadow and pasture
around, and an amphitheatre of sheltering hills, clad in the verdant covering of
their native woods, beyond, were features in the face of nature which the earlier
Cistercians courted with instinctive fondness.'

" In this favoured situation the monks of Stanlawe fixed their habitation. The
foundation of their new abbey was laid by Earl Henry in person, and in 1306 the
greater part of the abbey was consecrated. But difficulties beset them ; and ten
years after the consecration the monks are found dissatisfied with their new situ-
ation, complaining of the deficiency of wood for the construction of the monastery,
and prevailing on their patron, Thomas, earl of Lancaster, to grant them a new
site for their monastery. This was done in 1316, and Toxstath was assigned to
them for the new establishment. But the design was abandoned, if ever seriously
entertained. The building was proceeded with ; but the last finish was not put

LITERATURE. 381

to the work until the abbacy of Eccles, who succeeded in 1434. From the
translation until the dissolution, a period of nearly two centuries and a half, the
monks resided at Whalley, *a point of refuge for all who needed succour,
counsel, and protection ; a body of individuals with wisdom to guide the inex-
perienced, with wealth to relieve the suffering, and often with power to relieve the

distressed.'

*******

"The dissolution of the house took place in 1539. The zeal of Abbot
Paslew, the last abbot, had driven him into the ranks of the rash and ill-advised
pilgrimage of grace ; he was tried and attainted for high treason at the Lancaster
spring assizes in 1536-7, and, with a refinement of cruelty, he was brought to
Whalley, and executed on the 12th of March in that year, within sight of the
monastery over which he had presided for thirty years. The possessions of the
monastery were confiscated; and, on the 12th April, 1539, the bailiwick of the
demesnes was granted to John Braddyll : and he, with Richard Assheton, after-
wards purchased from the crown the whole manor of Whalley, with the site of
the dissolved monastery. A partition took place immediately afterwards, by
which Assheton obtained exclusive possession of the house."

To the following assertion of Mr. Hulton we cordially assent:

" To the local antiquary and the genealogist this collection of muniments will
be invaluable. The state of property at a very early period is developed; in
some instances the names of places may be identified ; but so great has been the
change in language and nomenclature, that even in the districts of Rochdale and
Rossendale, where the language still smacks of its Saxon origin, comparatively
few names can be identified with existing places. Perhaps a close attention to
the names, and their resolution by translation, when that is practicable, may
facilitate their recognition. The Vapidity with which the grants were made,
limits its usefulness to the genealogist. But for a century the record is perfect ;
and there are few ancient families in the south and east of Lancashire, who will
not find the name of an ancestor in its pages, either as a grantor or a witness to
some of the recorded transactions. The narrowness of the limit is to be regretted ;
but an attempt has been made to supply the deficiency by notes."

Mr. Hulton has given throughout the work some valuable notes ; and
in conclusion, we would remark that the book, in common with all
the publications of the Chetham Society, is exquisitely printed, and
elegantly brought out.

THE RIVER DOVE, WITH SOME QUIET /THOUGHTS ON THE HAPPY PRAC-
TICE OF ANGLING. London : William Pickering. 1847.

Is this a new or an old book ? If it be a novel production, the imitation
of the ancient tone and style is excellent : if it be a reprint, its publica-
tion is scarcely less creditable, from the taste shown in its selection.
The work is a kind of light commentary on, or rather pleasant com-
mendation of Walton and Cotton's labours in the service of the same
gentle craft — the Art of Angling, The book is written, according to a
custom common at the time of its date, 1687, in dialogue form : the
main conversation passes between an angler and an artist who have
journeyed together into that lovely locality which lies upon the river
Dove, to enjoy the delightful occupations of sketching, and fishing.
Their route is well chosen, for there scarcely exists in England a more
beautiful region than that watered by the Dove j the river issues from

382 LITERATURE.

the peak in Derbyshire, and passes near Buxton. Here do the two tra-
vellers jog on, their discourse quaint and queer, yet right merry and
agreeable. The following is an example : —

Painter. — You have angled me on, and beguiled the way with these colloquies
most pleasantly ; for we have walked some miles, and I heartily thank you.

Angler. — Look Sir; now you have a view of some rocks before you in a little
distance ; there are the steep declivities overhanging the other side of the Dove,
which is at a great depth below. A few steps more, and we are come to Hanson
Grange.

Painter. — It is a pretty sequestered spot ; and the house stands on the very
brow of the cliff, which is ornamented with wood j and I hope we are arrived at
Dove Dale.

Angler. — Have patience : not yet, Sir ; — this is Nab's Dale : but turn again
this way to the right, for there is Hanson Toot. And look, yonder is the church
at Alston fields ; and, I beseech you, deny me not the contrivance of a picture.

Painter. — I'll do it cheerfully ; and the hills array themselves to an advantage.
What a general harmony is in the works of nature ! Here, by a few lines, with
seeming carelessness put together, even those bleak and craggy hills are made to
the congruity and order of beauty j and the aspect of the church on the hill is
pretty for a distance.

Angler. — And when you are come there, you shall find a retired village, and a
decent house of entertainment ; where we may have supper and a clean bed.

Painter. — AVas it there Piscator cheered his companion after his journey ?

Angler. — Not so : for Mr. Cotton conducted him to his handsome seat at
Beresford, and there you may believe he made amends, as he promised to do, for
bringing him "an ill mile or two out of his way ;" for he gave him a hearty
welcome ; and after that they made no strangers of each other, but with good
Moorland ale, and a pipe of tobacco, passed an hour or two in conversation before
they went to bed.

Painter. — And I am ready to do the same ; so let us be going, for there is my
poor copy of Alston fields church.

Angler. — It is the church itself, and those distant hills, that stand behind it
with a natural gloom. Come on, Sir.

How exhilirating too is their talk prior to " pleasantly walking to the
source of the Dove."

Angler. — How now ! brave gentleman, how fares it with you this morning ?

Painter. — Trust me, I am full of joyful expectations.

Angler. — Then you do not repent your sudden challenge to walk across the
moors to the Dove Head ?

Painter. — Oh, Sir, never fear me.

" Hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins to rise,
His steed to water at those springs,
On chalic'd flowers that lies."

The air of these mountains hath a wholesome freshness that gives wings to the
spirit.

Angler. — Very true ; and I have the authority of learned Sir William Temple
to declare that health and long life are to be found on the Peak of Derbyshire,
and the heaths of Staffordshire. Are you for breakfast ?

Painter. — Ay ! and look, our host has provided for us in this arbour in his
garden ; see, how it is grown over with jessamines and honey-suckles.

Angler.— And here is a hedge of sweet briers— it all breathes fragrancy.

Painter. — It is very pleasant ; and now let us discuss our breakfast with free-
dom, as honest anglers ought to do : here's new baked bread, and milk and honey ;
and here's a bowl of curds and whey, with nutmeg and ginger. Are you for that ?

Angler. — With all my heart Painter. What say you, brother; is not here a
most fresh and unmatchable morning for travellers ? Do look over those hills j

LITERATURE. 383

and there are the blue moors, backed by the burnished light of the sun rising
behind them. What can be more glorious ?

Painter. — Nothing, nothing — see how "he cometh forth as a bridegroom from
his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race."

The following incident is one of the prettiest things in the whole
book : —

Angler. — There let them go, and to-morrow we shall meet them by Hanson
Toot. But what comes here ?

Painter. — It is a little country damsel.

Angler. — Good morning pretty maiden* What are you come for ?

Maiden of the Mill. — To fetch some water Sir.

Painter. — I pray you to be civil, and let me taste some of this clear spring of
the Ludwell from your pitcher.

Maiden. — You are welcome, Sir. I'll dip it in.

Painter. — Thank you gentle maid; 'tis as cold as anicicle'; and what is your name?

Maiden. — Margery, so please you, Sir.

Angler — Well my pretty Margery ; we are greatly beholden to you ; and here
is a half sevil piece to buy ribands for Sundays and holidays ; and so farewell.

Maiden. — Your servant kind gentlemen, and I thank you both.

Angler — God speed you, pretty Margery ; and may you live as harmless and
happy as you now appear to be, and some day or other walk to church on flowers.
Come, brother let us be forward ; for you and I must up to the Wheeldon Hill,
that towers to the skies yonder.

Painter — With all my heart : farewell, Margery — What a secret charm is in
a youthful innocency, that hath not put off the white garments washed in the
fountain of baptism ! I have heard it said, a child's mind gives a pattern of a
church temper ; it looks to have come fresh from heaven, and to be the only thing
fit to re-ascend to the celestial presence.

Angler. — And that we may believe, was the reason of our Redeemer exhorting
mankind to have the mind of children. And did he not openly declare that their
angels do always behold the face of their Heavenly Father— meaning their guardian
angels.

The book, coming from the press of Charles Whittingham, is of
course a specimen of curious and exquisite printing.

AMY ROBSART, Drame en cinq actes, et huit tableaux, arrange d'apre~s le
celebre romar. " Kenilworth'1 de Walter Scott, par WILLIAM ROBERT
MARKWELL. Paris, chez Martinon, Libraire, Rue du Coq Saint-
Honore,4. 1847.

THIS is certainly a curiosity in literature — a French play written by an
Englishman, with the subject English also. Mr. Markwell, however,
seems a perfect master of the French language, and expresses himself in
it not only with fluency, but with much force and feeling. He has dra-
matised very well the story of poor Amy Robsart, though he rather
strangely is led away by some gentler fancy, when he changes the well
known catastrophe of the tale into a happy conclusion. According to
this play, Amy Robsart is saved, and it is Varney who is killed by falling
into the trap which he |had contrived. The curtain drops on the news
that the bride of Leicester is appointed first lady of honor to Queen
Elizabeth. As a specimen of the drama, which has interest throughout,

384 LITERATURE.

we give in its French dress the following scene — one which in the origi-
nal is so popular, and which has formed so often a theme for the painter.

SCENE xi. — LEICESTER ET AMY, entrant par la gauche.
Leicester, en costume de cour, portant 1'ordre de la Jarretiere d' Angleterre,

lefauteuil qui
temple avec amour lord Leicester. — Un moment de silence.

AMY. — Que vous etes beau ainsi, mon lord bien-aime ! . .

LEICESTER. — Amy, vous etes corame toutes les femmes..le velours et les
joyaux vous charment plus que rhomme qui les porte. .

AMY, avec un ton de reproche. — Oh ! Dudley. . croyez-vous que votre Amy
puisse vous aimer mieux sous ce costume magnifique que sous 1'humble pourpoint
que vous portiez lorsqu'elle vous donna son coeur dans les bois de Devon ?. .

LEICESTER. — Allons. . , lie me grondez pas, ma belle comtesse (// se leve ;
Amy s'appuie sur son bras, et tons deux se dirigent vcrs le sopha qui est a la
droite), et laissez-moi a mon tour vous admirer. . vous portez a ravir le costume
qui convient a votre rang. . Que penses-tu du gout de nos dames de la cour ?

AMY. — Je n'en sais rien. . j'aime ces parures parce qu'elles me viennent de vous,
mais je ne puis songer a moi quand vous etes la. . Dudley, ne parlons que de toi,
(Leicester s'assied sur le sopha).

LEICESTER. — Prends a mes cotes la place qui t'appartient.

AMY. — Non, je veux m'asseoir a tes pieds..je pourrai mieux te voir. .(Elle
s'assied sur un tabouret, aux genoux de Leicester). Je veux admirer a mon loisir
toute ta splendeur. . je veux savoir comment sont vetus les princes.

LEICESTER sourit. — Enfan !.. (Amy le regarde avec une curiosite enfantine
meiee d'amour.)

AMY. — Quelle est cette bande brodee qui entoure ton pennon?

LEICESTER.— C'est la Jarretiere d' Angleterre .. ornement que les rois sont
fiers de porter.

AMY.— Et cette etoile ?

LEICESTER. — C'est le diamant George, le joyau de 1'ordre. . ; tu sais que le
roi Edouard et la comtesse de Salisbury. .

AMY, Vinterrompant. — Je connais cette histoire. .je sais que la Jarretiere d'une
dame est devenue 1'embleme le plus illustre de la chevalerie d' Angleterre.

LEICESTER. — Je le re£us en meine temps que le due de Norfolk et le comte
de Rutland.

AMY — Et ce magnifique collier ?

LEICESTER. — C'est 1'ordre de la Toison-d'Or, institue par la maison de Bour-
gogne. .de grands privileges, car le roi d'Espagne lui-meme, qui a succede aux-hon-
neurs de cette maison, ne peut juger un chevalier de la Toison-d'Or sans le con-
cours du grand chapitre de 1'ordre. .

AMY. — Et celui-ci?

LEICESTER. — C'est le plus pauvre de tous : — c'est 1'ordre de Saint-Andre
d'Ecosse, retabli par le roi Jacques. . Maintenant, chere comtesse, vos desirs sont
satisfaits : vous avez vu votre vassal sous le costume le plus brillant qu'il pouvait
prendre en voyage, .car les robes d'apparat ne peuvent se porter qu'a la cour. .

AMY. — Mais vous le savez, mon cher lord, un desir satisfait en fait toujours
naitre un nouveau.

LEICESTER. — II n'est pas un seul des tiens, chere Amy, que je ne puisse satis-
faire.

AMY. — Je desirai voir mon epoux eclairer de toute sa splendeur cette
obscure retraite. . eh bien ! maintenant, je voudrais me trouver dans 1'un de
ses magnifiques palais, et 1'y voir revetu de la modeste redingote brune qu'il
portait quand il gagna le cceur de la pauvre Amy Robsart-

LITKHATURE. 385

LEICESTER. — Enfant!.. eh bien, aujourd'hui irieine je reprendrai la redingote
brune. .

AMY. — Oui, mais j'irai avec vous dans 1'une de ces superbes demeures, ou je
serais si fiere, parmi les dames anglaises, de porter, dans tout son eclat, le nom du
plus noble comte du royaume.

FINE ARTS.

THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO JERSEY, 3rd SEPT. 1846. — Pub. by Philip Falle,
Jersey; Eldred, 168, Bond Street, London.

THIS magnificent volume illustrative of Her Majesty's visit to Jersey is a
befitting record of an event which will be long memorable in the annals
of the Island. The work, a splendid folio, comprises twenty fine lithogra-
phic views from ably executed sketches bya native artist, Mr.Le Capelain.
Abounding as Jersey does in rich and picturesque scenery, it was a task of
no little difficulty to make a selection where all is beautiful. Mr. Le Cape-
lain has however, exercised considerable taste and judgment ; and the
result is, a collection of views which cannot fail to please the most
fastidious. Those which have particularly gratified us are " St. Aubyn's
Bay," with Elizabeth Castle and the town of St. Heliers, in the distance
"Grosnez Castle" exhibiting its time worn arch in dark relief against a
moonlight sky; and, above all, the famous " Castle of Mont Orgueil" —
the most celebrated historical relic in the Island. This mighty fortress
stands forth in bold relief and presents an object of national veneration
from the chivalrous associations connected with its history. Here it
was that Reginald de Carteret resisted the renowned Bertrand du Gues-
clin and here at a long subsequent period Sir Philip Carteret, a descendant
of Reginald's, and the inheritor of his daring spirit boldly sustained
the cause of King Charles against all the forces of the Parliament.

386

BIRTHS, MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS,

Agnew, Lady Louisa, of a dau., at Exton-paik, 22nd Chapman, Mrs. John, of a son, at Peckham^SSth

Aug. I Aug-

Ailsa, The Marchioness, of a son and heir, 1st Sept. 'Chester, Mrs., wife of Captain C. M. Chester, of
Aitchison, Mrs., wife of Captain A. N. Aitchison, j a dau., at Rowdell House, Sussex, 8th Sept.

Bombay Army, of a son, 7th Sept. ; Clarke, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Charles Clarke, of

Allan, Mrs., wife of Dr. Allan, of a dau., at Islington, ! a dau., at Hanwell, 6th Sept.

23rd Aug. Clarke, Mrs. Frederick, of a dau. at Dulwich, 10th

Anderson, Mrs. G. W., of a son, at Westbourne- j Sept.

terrace, 24th Aug. i Cole, Mrs. John C., of a son, at Upper Bedford-

Arbuthnot, the Hon. Mrs., of a son, at Blatch worth place, 29th Aug.

House, 28th Aug. Conquest, Mrs. John, of a dau., at Woburn-square,

Archer, Mrs. Clement, of a dau., at Somerfordj llth Sept.

Booths, Cheshire, 26th Aug. Cotton, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Broughton Hall,

Armitage, Lady, of a son, 7th Sept

Astley, Lady, of a dau., at Hyde park-street, 18th

Aug.

Banting, Mrs. T., of a son, at Bayswater, 1 4th Sept.
Baynes, the Hon. Mrs. R. Lambert, of a son, at

Stanwell, 13th Sept.

Baynes, Mrs. W. I. W., of a son and heir, at Nor-
wood, 14th Sept.
Beldam, Mrs. Edward, of a son, at Royston, 18th

Sept.
Benecke, Mrs. F. W., of a dau. at Denmark-hill,

12th Sept.

Bennett, Mrs. Rowland Nevitt, of a son, at Den-
mark-hill, 23rd Aug.
Bentley, Mrs. John jun., of a son, at Lloyd-square,

24th Aug.
Bernard, Mrs. John, of a dau. at Edmonton, 9th

Sept.
Birkett, Mrs. John, of a dau., of Broad-street

Buildings, 15th Sept.
Blogg, Mrs. John, of a son, at Norwood, 17th

Sept.
Bonham, Mrs. S. G., of a son, at Wimpole-street,

28th Aug.
Bowden, Mrs. Ellis T., of a dau., at Stoke Newing-

ton, 29th Aug.
Brettell, Mrs., of a son, at Camden-road Villas,

10th Sept.

Bridge, Mrs. Alexander, of a son, 15th Sept.
Bromley, Mrs. R. Maddox, of a 'son, at Dublin,

1 6th Sept.
Brown, Mrs., wife of Lieut-Col. Brown, of the

co. Flint, 18th Aug.
Cowie, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Morgan Cowie, of a

dau., at Putney, 31st Au
Crewe, Mrs., wife of the
a son, at Breadsall Rectory, 25th Aug.

Rev. He

nry R. Crewe, of

Royal Regiment, of a son, at Antigua, 17th 14th Sept.

July.

Culpeper, Mrs. John Bishop, of a son, at Stan-
hope-street, 21st Aug.
Darley, Mrs. Henry, of a dau., at St. John's-

wood, 28th Aug.
David, Mrs. M. E., of Montreal, Canada, of a dau.

at Chandos-street, Cavendish-square, 10th Sept.
Davies, Mrs. Richard, of a dau., at St. John's-

wood, llth Sept.
Dolphin, Mrs., wife of Captain James Dolphin, of

a dau., at Reading, 21st Aug.
Downs, Mrs. Edwin, of a dau., at Dalston, llth

Sept.
Doyle, Mrs. Edward, of a son, at Camden-town,

24th Aug.
Dunnage, Mrs. Thomas, of a son, at Clapham,

26th Aug.
East, Mrs. Gilbert, of a dau., at Worley Hall, 26th

Aug.
Ellis, Mrs. G. H., of a son, at Lavender Hill.

23rd Aug.
Emmet, G. N., of a son, at Kensington, 24th

Aug.
Foot, Mrs. Joseph James, of a son, at Dalston

Rise, IQth Sept.
Forbes, Mrs., wife of Alex. Kinloch Forbes, Esq.,

Bombay Civil Service, of a son, l^th June.
Forster, Mrs. Perceval Wm., of a son, at Holloway,

Fraser, Mrs. John, of a son, at York-terrace, Re-

Brund, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Brighton, 20th i gent's-park, 31st Aug.

Sept. j Freshneld, Mrs. Charles, of a dau., at Brighton,

Bryan, Mrs., wife of the Rev. I. W. Bryan, rector I 18th Sept.

of Cliddesden, of a dau. at Naples, 28th July.

Buckley, Mrs., wife of the Rev. I. W. Buckley, of
a son, at Brighton, 23rd Aug.

Burnett, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Wm. Burnett, M.A.
rector of Tangmere, Sussex, 9th Sept.

Burrow, Mrs., of a son, at Stockwell, 26th Aug.

Calvert, Mrs. Edmond, of a son, at Hunsdon, 12th
Sept.

Campbell, Mrs., of a dau., at Glendarnel, 5th Sept.

Campbell, Mrs., of a dau., at Blythswood, co. Ren-
frew, 10th Sept.

Chapman, Mrs. D. B., of a dau. at Roehampton,
2rth Aug.

Fry, Mrs. Thomas Homfray, of a dau., at Peckham,

2nd Sept.
Fuller, Mrs. G. Arthur, of a son, at Chester-sq..

19th Sept.

Galloway, the Countess of, of a dau., 29th Aug.
Gardiner, Mrs. Wm., of a dau., at Uxbridge, 15th

Sept.
Garpit, Mrs.* Thomas, of a son, at Boston, co.

Lincoln, 8th Sept.
Girdler, Mrs. Thomas, of a dau., at Croydon, 18th

Sept.
Gisby, Mrs George, of a dau., at Arnwell Mount,

Herts, 4th Sept.

BIRTHS.

387

Gordon, Mrs. Cosmo Wm., of a son, at Oxfo.d- McLeod, Mrs. Bentley, of a son, at Upper Mon-

terrace, 9th Sept. ] tague- street, 10th Sept.

Graves, the Hon. Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Bou-jMoller, Mrs., wife of Capt. I. O. Moller, 50th

logne, 10th Sept. Regt, of a son, 12th Sept.

Groucock, Mrs., of a son, at Dulwich, 2gth Aug. |Moore, Mrs. Wm. Gurdeon, of a dau., at the vica-
Guest, Lady Charlotte, of a dau., 25th Aug. j rage, Asbackby, co. Lincoln, 4th Sept.

Gurney, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Hoxton, 7th Napier, Mrs. Wm., late of Singapore, of a son, at

Sept. I Richmond, 23rd Aug.

Haes, Mrs. Henry, of a dau., at Wandsworth Road, Neale, Mrs. Johnstoun, of a son, 5th Sept.

20th Sept. Need, Mrs., wife of Lieut. Henry Need, R.N., of

Haig, Mrs. Thomas, of a dau. at Brentford, 21st a son, 16th Sept.

Aug. Nettleship, Mrs. Thomas, of a son, at East Sheen,

Hales, Mrs. John, of a son, at Malvern House, 21st Sept.

Tulse Hill. 2nd Sept. INevins, Mrs. Wm., of a son, at Miningsby Rec-

Harvey, the Lady Henrietta, of a son, 12th Sept. j tory, 5th Sept.
Head, Mrs. Frank Somerville, of a dau., at Wyre- Nixon, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Mountain View,

side, 18th Sept. I co. Cork, igth Aug.

Hecker, Mrs., wife of the Rer. H. T. Hecker, of a Norton, Mrs. Edward, of a son, at Upper Baker-

dau., at Wheathampsteed, Herts, 5th Sept.
Henderson, Mrs. Benjamin, of a dau,, at Bays-
water, 20th Aug.
Henslowe, Mrs., wife of the Rev. E; P. Hen»lowe,

vicar of Huish Episcopicum Langport, co.

Somerset, of a dau,, 24th Aug.
Hill, Mrs. Henry Reginald, of a dau., at Clapham,

25th Aug.
Hinde, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Charles Hinde,

B.A., of a son, at Oxford-place, 25th Sept.
Homer, Mrs. Edward, of a dau. at Dulwich, llth

Sept.
Houlding, Mrs. John, of a son, at Mornington-

road, 13th Sept.

Howard, Mrs. Cosmo Richard, of a dau., at Ber-
keley-square. 23rd Aug.
Hughes, Mrs. H. P., of a son, 5th Sept.
Hughes, Mrs., of a son, at Eaton-terrace, 26th

Aug.
Humfrey, Mrs. I. H., of a son, at Mount-villa,

near Sheffield, 5th Sept.
Huth, Mrs. C. F., of a dau , at Upper Harley-st

30th Aug. •

Ingram, Mrs. Capt. C., of a son. at Blackheath,

7th Sept.
Jackson, Mrs. George, of a son, at Greenlands,

Bucks, 19th Aug.
Jackson, Mrs. J. T., of a son, at Islington, 19th

Sept.
James, Mrs., wife of Lieut. Henry James, R.N.

of a son, at Biighton, 15th Sept.
Jeaffreson, Mrs. I. F., of a dau., at Islington,

19th Sept.
Jennings, Mrs. Joseph, of a dau., at King-street,

Portman-square, 29th Aug.
Johnson, Mrs. John, of a son, at St. John'*-wood

12th Sept.

Jones, Mrs. F. W. Reeve, of a dau., at Brunswick-
square, 13th Sept.
Jordan, Mrs. L., of a dau., at Berners-street, 4th

Sept.
J pp, Mrs. Edward Basil, of a dau. at Blackheath

25th Aug.
Kelsey, Mrs. E. E. P., of a son, at the Close,

Salisbury, 22nd Aug.
Keyser, Mrs. Charles, of a son, at Chester-terrace

10th Sept.
Kingscote, Mrs. Robert, of twin daus., at Brecon

9th Sept.
Lawford, Mrs. Wm., of a dau., at Grove House,

Hackney, 24th August.
Lee, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at South Raynha

Vicarage, 24th August.
Leon-de, Mrs., wife of I. M. de Leon, of a son, at

Maida Vale, 25th August.
Mackintosh", Mrs., of a son, at Mackintosh, 7tl

Aug.
Macnaughten, Mrs. E., of a dau., at Monkhams

Woodford, llth Sept.
Mann, Mrs., wife of the Rev. W. Moxon Mann

of a dau., 15th Sept.

March, the Countess of, of a son, 19th Sept.
Mathias, Mrs. George, of a son, at Glastonbury

24th Aug.
McAdam, Mrs. James, of a dau., at St. John's

Wood, 13th Sept.
VOL. IV. NO. XVIII.

street, 5th Sept.

Vugent, the Hon. Mrs., of a dau., at Westhorpe
House, 4th Sept.

Ollivier, Mrs. Wm., of a dau., at Queen's Elms,
20th Sept.

O'Malley, Mrs. P. Frederick, of a dau., at Wood-
lands, near Ipswich, 13th Sept.

Otten, Mrs. James, of a dau., at St. Petersbu
21st Aug.

Ottley, Mrs. Drewry, of a dau., at Bedford-place,
Russell- square, 15th Sept.

Palmer, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Henry Palmer, of a
son, at Bishop's Cleeve Rectory, 13th Sept.

Palmer, Mrs. Wm., of a dau., 18th Sept.

Parker, Mrs. John, late of Trafalgar House,
Brighton, of a dau., at Kentish town, gth Sept.

Payne, MM., wife of Col. Charles Payne, E.I.C.S.,
of a dau.. at Stonetoun, 17th Sept.

Pajne, Mrs. F. A., of a dau., at Pyntre Uchs, 26th
Aug.

Perry, Mrs. Richard Rogers, of a dau., at Hamp-
stead, 29th Aug.

Pettigrew, Mrs. W. V., of a dau., at Chester-st.,
19th Sept.

Phepson, Mrs. Weatherley, of a son, at Mornirig-
ton-road, 16th Sept.

Pinching, Mrs. Charles John, of a son, at Graves-
end, 10th Sept.

Pitchford, Mrs. E, B., of a son, at Bromley, 21st
Aug.

Plunkett, Mrs., wife of the Hon. Capt. Plunkett,
R.N., of a dau., 5th Sept.

Pole, Mrs. Lambert, of a dau., at Upper Harley-st.,
28th Aug.

Pollock, Mrs. George Kennet, of a dau., at Upper
Montague-street, 7th Sept.

Ponsford, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Seymour- place,
26th Aug.

Pope, Mrs. John Robinson, of a son, at Man-
chester-square, 16th Sept.

Portal, Mrs. Richard Brinsley, of a dau., at Tot-
tenham, l6th Sept.

Potter, Mrs. Thomas B., of a son, at Seedley, near
Manchester, 1st Sept.

Preston, Mrs., wife of Capt. Preston, R.N., of a
son, 29th Aug.

Preston, Mrs. Wm., of a son at Upper Berkeley-
street, 2nd Sept,

Ramsay, Mrs. Major, of twins, (daughters), one
still born, at Hill Lodge, Enfield, 21st Aug.

Repton, Mrs., wife of Lieut. W. Wheatley Repton,
B.N.I., &c., of a dau., at Jutogh, near Simla,
30th June.

Reynolds, Mrs. Frederick, of a son, at Dalston,
25th ug.

Rice, the Hon. Mrs. Spring, of a dau., 27th Aug.

Rolleston, Mrs., of a son, at Watnall, Notts, igth
Aug.

Sands, Mrs. Bransom, of a son, at Aigburth, Liver-
pool, 5th Sept.

Scarlett, Mrs., wife of the Hon. P. Campbell Scar-
lett, of a son, gth Sept.

Selfe, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Arnbleside, 9th
Sept.

Sewell, Mrs. Henry, of a son, at Upton-upon-
Severn, 21st Aug.

2 F

388

BIR1HS, MARRIAGES.

Sheppard, Mrs. Philip, of a son, at Hampton Ma-
nor House, llth Sept.
Sibeth. Mrs. Edmund, of a son, at Herne Hall,

9th Sept.
Smith, Mrs., wife of Dr. Tyler Smith, of a son, at

Bolton-street, 27th August.

Smith, Mrs. W. Castle, of a dau., at Cambridge-
place, Regent's-park, 27th Aug.
Smith, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Benjamin Frederick

Smith, of a dau., 20th Sept.
Smythe, Mrs., wife of Lieut. Frederick Sraythe,

Staff Officer of Pensioners, of a son, at Oxford,

30th Aug.
Snow, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Henry Snow, of a

dau., 6th Sept.
Spring, Mrs. Herbert, of a dau., at Higher Brough-

ton, near Manchester, 28th Aug.
Squire, Mrs. W. T., of a son, at Barton-place,

Suffolk, 10th Sept.
Stanbrough, Mrs. James Wm., of a son, at Sutton

House, 28th Aug.
Stephenson, Mrs. Captain, of a son, at Saunders-

foot, co. Pembroke, 14th Sept.
Stokes, Mrs. Henry Graham, of a dau., at Green-
wich. 23rd Aug.
Stone, Mrs. Coutts, of a son, at Great Marlborough-

street, 3rd Sept.
Strachan, Mrs. James, of a son, at Teddington,

Middlesex, 20th Aug.
Strangways, the Hon. Mrs. John Fox, of a son,

13th Sept.
Struve", Mrs. Wm. Price, of a son, at Swansea, 18th

Sept.
Tahourdin, Mrs. Charles, of a SOB, at Brompton,

10th Aug.
Tanqueray, Mrs. George, of a dau., at Hendon,

18th Sept.
Taylor, Mrs. Herbert, of a dau., at Lowndes-sq.,

12th Sept.

Teignmouth, Lady, of a son, at Clifton, 2Qth Aug.
Thomas, Mrs. Arthur T., of a dau., at Kensington,

7th Sept.
Thompson, Mrs. Samuel, of a SOB, at Douglas,

Isle of Man, 12th Sept.
Tindal, Mrs. R. H., of a dau., at Scarborough,

28th Aug.
Twigg, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Robert Twigg, Vicar

of Tilmanstone, of a dau., 16th Sept.
Tyerman, Mrs. C. R., of a son, at Gresham-street,

14th Sept.
Vansittart, Mrs., wife of Lieut.-Col. Vansittart,

Coldstream Guards, of a dau., l6th Sept.
Walker, Lady, wife of Sir Edward Walker, of a

dau., 23rd Aug.
Wallace, Mrs., wife of the Rev. George Wallace,

of a dau., at Canterbury, 26th Aug.
Watkins, Mrs., wife of the Rev. H. G. Watkins,

jun., of a dau., 7th Sept.
Welch, Mrs. Montague Stuart, of a son, at Chis-

wick, 13th Sept.
Williams, Mrs. Philip P., of a son, at Stoake

House, Salop, 28th August.

Wilmott, Mrs. Edward, of a son, at Albion- street-
Lewes, 12th Sept.
Wood, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Peter A. L. Wood,

of a son, at Littleton Rectory, 26th Aug.
Woodhouse, Mrs/Coventry M., of a son, at Doughty-
street, 4th Sept.
Woodward, Mrs. Henry Wm., of a son, at Netting

Hill, 2Qth Aug.
Wynell-Mayow, Mrs., wife of the Rev. Philip

Wynell-Mayow, of a dau., 26th Aug.
Yeoman, Mrs. James, of a son, at Tubbendens,

15th Sept.

Yolland, Mrs. Captain W., of a dau., at South-
ampton, 3rd Sept.
Young, Mrs. Heathlield, of a dau., at Dorking,

22nd Aug.

Adams, William, Esq. surgeon, 'of 39, Finsbury-
square, to Mary Ann, daughter of John Mills,
Esq. of Canton -place, Poplar, 21st Aug.

Adams, William Pitt, Esq., Her Majesty's Charge
d' Affaires to the Republic of Peru, to Georgiana
Emily, third daughter of the late Robert Lukin,
Esq., 16th Sept.

Addison, Thomas, Esq. M.D., to Elizabeth Cathe-
rine, widow of the late W. W. Hanxwell, Esq.
nephew and protege of the late Admiral Selby, of
Grangemouth, 14th Sept.

Allnutt, George S., of the Middle Temple, Esq.,
Barrister-at-ldW, to Mary Lea, eldest surviving
daughter of Henry Allnutt, Esq. of Maidstone,25th
Aug.

Anderson, the Rev. James Richard, to Elizabeth
Julia, eldest daughter of the Hon. and Rev. Ed-
ward Pellew, iQth Aug.

Baker, the Rev. Stephen Catteley, vicar of Sken-
frith, Monmouthshire, to Mary Dorothea, dau.
of H. Graham, Esq. and grand-daughter of the
late Rev. J. Graham, rector of St. Saviour's,
York, 2nd Sept.

Banister, Edward, thrd son of the Rev. John Ban-
ister, rector of Kelvedon Hatch, to Eliza-Ann,
only daughter of Lichfield Tabrum, Esq. of Bois-
hall, Essex, 2nd Sept.

Bates, Thomas Charles, eldest son of Robert Makin1
Bates, Esq., to Christiana Frances, younger dau.
of the late Arthur Francis Stone, Esq. of Bromp-
ton, gth Sept.

Baxter, Mr. Henry Phelps, of Southall, Middlesex,
to Julia Malvina, only child of Joshua Smith,,
Esq. Hill-house, Southall, 22nd April.

Belfour, Edmund, only son of Edmund Belfour, of I

Lincoln's-inn-fields, Esq., to Maria Godfrey'
only daug1 ter of the late Edward Turner, of
Woburn-square, and of the Hon. East India
Company's Service, Esq. llth Sept.

Benson, George.Esq. of Armagh, to Clara Elizabeth,
youngest dau. of the late Thomas Miller, Esq. of
Peckam-rye, Surrey, 26th Aug.

Blake, V. W., Esq. surgeon, late of Ditchling, to
Sarah Maria, eldest daughter of George Farn-
combe, Esq. of Bishopstone, Sussex, 8th Sept.

Bouverie, Philip Pleydell, only son of the Hon.
Philip Pleydell Bouverie, to Jane, eldest daughter
of Henry Seymour, Esq. of Knoyle-house, Wilts,
21st Aug.

Boys, the Rev. M., M.A., to Henrietta, youngest
daughter of the late Major-General Trewman, of
the Madras Army, 16th Sept.

Britten, Thomas, Esq. of Grove-end-road, St.John's
Wood, to Jessie Jane, youngest daughter of
Charles Pearse, Esq. of Carlton Colrille, Suffolk,
3rd Sept. ,

Bruce, Captain, Grenadier Guards, to Anna Maria
Frances Suart, daughter of the late James Stuart,
Esq., Member for Huntingdon, 15th Sept.

Buckle, Captain Claude Henry M., R.N., son of
Vice-Admiral Buckle, to Harriet Margaret, eldest
daughter of Thomas Deane Shute, Esq. of Bram-
shaw-hill, New Forest, Hants, 24th Aug.

Buckley, the Rev. George, to Marianne, only dau.
of Mr. D. Fraser, of Islington, 21st Aug.

Burleigh, Sampson, youngest son of the late Robert
Burleigh, Esq. of Sible-Hedingham, Essex, to
Charlotte Arabella, eld, st daughter of the late
James Simmons, Esq. of Canterbury, 2nd Sept.

Carter, Matthew, Esq. M.D., eldest son of Matthew

MARRIAGES.

389

Carter, Esq. late Her Majesty's Consul for Car-
thagena, in Spain, to Cornelia, youngest daughter
of Francis Woodfbrde, Esq., 2nd Sept.

Clarke, the Rev. Walter T., vicar of Swinderby,
Lincolnshire, third surviving son of General Tred-
way Clarke, of the Madras Artillery, to Maria
Frances, youngest daughter of the Rev. Joseph
Mayor, rector of South Callingham, 17th Sept.

Clay, the Rev. Edmund, B.A., incumbent of Sker-
ton, Lancaster, to Sarah Howes Lucas, youngest
daughter of John Phipps, Esq. of Little Shelford
Park, Cambridgeshire, 26ch Aug.

Clode, Charles Matthew, Esq. of Staple-inn, to
Charlotte, youngest daughter of John Richards,
Esq. of Devonshire-square, 25th Aug.

Cochrane, William, Esq. of Grantham, Lincoln-
shire, to Catherine Elvira, younger daughter of
W. K. Jenkins, Esq. of Avenue-road, Regent's
Park, 16th Sept.

Colman, Charles Frederick, Esq. of Swansea, in
the county of Glamorgan, to Mary Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of the late James Mill, Esq.
23rd Aug.

Colman, William Gooding, Esq., architect (late of
2, New-inn, Strand, London), eldest son of the
lat» William Colman, Esq. of Shirley, to Elea-
nora Harriett, second daughter of the late John
William Pfeil. Esq., 21st Aug.

Cornish, John Robert, Esq. Barrister-at-law, of the
Inner Temple, and stu lent of Christ Church,
Oxford, to Elizabeth Gray, only child of the late
George Isaac Mowbray, Esq. of the countv of
Durham, and grand-daughter of Robert Gray,
D.D., late Lord Bishop of Bristol, 19th Aug.

Cowley, Frederick Thomas, second son of William
Kearse Cowley, Esq., R.N., to Louisa Emily,
second daughter of Thomas Boddy, Esq., 25th
Aug.

Cox, Wiltshire, Esq. of Henley-grove, Westbury-
upon-Trym, Gloucestershire, to Lydia Ann, eldest

daughter of Mr. Clement Oliver, of Devonshire-
place, Brighton, 21st Aug.

Cracknall, Stephen, of St. John's-road, Notting-
hill, Esq. and Queen's College, Cambridge, B.A
to Ann, only daughter of Borthwick Wight, E^q
of Loraine place, Holloway, 26th Aug.

Crake, John, eldest son of William Crake, Esq., of
.10, Stanhope-street, Hyde-parn-gardens, to Mary
Anne, younger daughter of the late Robert Todd
Esq. of St. John's-wood, and of Datchet, 8th
Sept.

Cramer, William, eldest son of Fra^ois Cramer
Esq. Bayswrater, to Catherine, eldest daughter of
the late Thomas Jennings, of New Windsor,
Berks, 31st Aug.

Croker, Robert Nettles, M.D., to Mrs. Anne Lloyd
Bowser, 6th Sept.

Crosley, Mr. William, C.E.,of Edinburgh, to Rosa
Ann, second daughter of John Gandell, Esq.,
Mecklenburgh-street, Mecklenburgh-square, 16th
Sept.

Daniels, Nathaniel, of London, to Harriette, dau.
of the late N. Benjamin, of Paris, 26th Aug.

Darby, Walter, Esq. of Fortess -terrace, Kentish-
town, to Elizabeth Julia, only daughter of the
Rev. Samuel Crooke, of Bromley, Kent, 8th Sept.

Davies, James Phillips, Esq. to Mary, only dau.
of the late William Whitelaw, Esq., 8th Sept.

Dent, John C., Esq., Barrister-at law, of Sudley
Castle, Gloucestershire, to Emma, eldest dau.
of John Brocklehurst, Esq., M.P. of Hurdsfield
house, Cheshire, l6th Sept.

Drogheda, Henry Francis Seymour, Marquis of, to
the Hon. Mary Caroline, eldest daughter of Lord
Wharncliffe, 25th Aug.

Drummond, George, Esq. of Regency - square,
Brighton, to Mary, second daughter of the late
Edward Berney, Esq. of Cleves, 7th Sept.

Eastcourt, Charles Wyatt, Esq. of Newport, in the
Isle of Wight, to Frances Emma Coker, only
daughter of Charles Holcombe Dare, Esq. of
North Curry, in the county of Somerset, 14th
Sept.

Edmand, William, Esq. of Swansea, to Elizabeth

Clarke, second dau. of John Richardson, Esq. cf
Swansea, 2nd Sept.

Edwards, William, second son of J. S. Edwards,
Esq., Stanton Lacey, Shropshire, to Emily, dau.
of the late M. Joshua Jowett, of Chelsea, 26th
Aug.

England, Daniel, fourth son of Thomas England,
Esq. of Surrey-square, to Phoebe, second dau. of
Edward Moxhay, Esq. of Stamford • hill, llth
Sept.

Evans, the Rev. William Sloane, Fellow Com-
moner, B.A., Trinity College, Cambridge, assist-
ant-curate of St. David's, and grand cbap'ain of
the Temple, London, second son of the late
Colonel William Evans, of Her Majesty's 41st
Regt., nephew of his Excellency Lieut.-General
Thomas, Governor of Tynemouth Castle and
Cliff Fort, to Selina, second daughter of William
Branscombe, Esq., 21st Aug.

Evans, the Rev. James Joyce, M.A., of Trinity
College, Cambridge, curate of Wareham. Dorset,
eldest son of the Rev. James Harrington Evans, to
Caroline Eliza, eldest daughter of the late Joseph
Freeland, Esq. of Chichester, l6th Sept.

Feltoe, Francis Frederick, eldest son of Francis
Feltoe, Esq. of Newington-place, Kennington,
to Sarah Anne; daughter of Thomas Deeble
Dutton, Esq. of Althorp-lodge, Garratt, Wands-
worth, 7th Sept.

Fenwick, N. A., Esq. late stipendiary magistrate at
Geelong, Port Philip, to Julia, fourth daughter of
his Excellency the late Lieutenant-General de
Flindt, in his Danish Majesty's service, at Co-
penhagen.

Firman, George Jordan, son of George Firman,
Esq. of Great Alie-street, (formerly of Colchester)
to Anna Louisa, dau. of Robert Penny, Esq. of
Birchin-lane, niece of Lieut. -Colonel N. Penny,
C.B., andof thelate.Mstjor-General G. R, Penny,
both of the Hon. East India Company's service.

Foley, John Henry, Esq. of Ed ward -street and Os-

naburgh-street, Regent's park, sculptor, to Mary
Ann Gray, second daughter of Samuel Gray, Esq.
of Brecknock-cresent, Camden New-town, 21st
Aug.

Fusion, Edward, Esq. Paymaster of Depdts, Isle of
Wight, to Margarette, fourth daughter of J.
Thomas, E?q. of Brecknock, 9th Sept.

Fyler, the Rev. James Fy'.er, eldest son of James
C. Fyler, Esq. of Woodlands, Surrey, and Heffle-
ton, Dorset, to Rosalind Charity, eldest daughter
of Dr. Chambers, of Brook-street, London, and
Hordle Cliff, Hants, 7th -Sept.

Godfrey, Mr. John, of St. Helier's, Jersey, to Fran-
ces Anne, third daughter of the late Mr. William
Bowes Dadley, 18th Sept.

Gonne, Charles, Esq. of Abington-hall, Cambridge-
shire, to Charlotte Maria, third daughter of John
Cotton, Esq. of Upper Harley-street, 9th Sept.

Graham, the Rev. Henry Elliot, rector of Ludg-
van, and one of Her Majesty's justices of the
peace, for the county of Cornwall, to Louisa,
third daughter of Burrage Davenport, Esq. of
Russell-place, Fitzroy-square, 26th Aug.
riffith, Arthur C. A., Esq., to Charlotte, youngest
daughter of the late Lieutenant-Colonel Delamain,
of the Bengal Army, 25th Aug.

Guthrie, Alex., Esq. to Bridget Isabella Jane,
widow of the late Assistant -surgeon William
Purnell, of the Bombay Establishment, 14th
Sept.

Hamilton, Francis Alexander, of Liverpool, to Eliza
Pennell, eldest daughter of Samuel Johnston,
Esq. Olinda-cottage, Liscard, Cheshire, 7th Sept.

Hamilton, J. P., Esq. Barrister-at-law, Dublin, to
Martha, second daughter of Anthony Brownlesa,
Esq. of Richmond- terrace, 7th Sept.

Hamley, Captain William George, of the Royal
Engineers, to Olivia Arbuthnot, second daughter
of Captain T. Gallwey, Royal Navy, 8ih Sept.

Harper, Joseph W., eldest son of Fletcher Harper,
Esq. of New Fork, to Ellen Urling, younger dau.
of Mr. Jeremiah Smith, Sturt-place, Hoxton,
21st Aug.

2 F 2

390

MARRIAGES.

IIaverffc.1, Rev. A. E., vicar of Cople, near Bedford,
to Frances Mary, eldest daughter of George J.
A. Walker, Esq. of Norton, in the county of
Worcester, 16th Sept.

Hawley, Frederick, Esq. of Islington, to Emma
Cox, only child of the late Thomas Euens, Esq.
of North Shields, 6th Sept.

Hayes, Joseph, Esq. of Her Majesty's St. Helena
Regiment, to Harriett, youngest daughter of the
late John Martin, Esq., of the 3rd Dragoon
Guards, 7th Sept.

Hayes, Fletcher, Esq., 62nd Regiment Bengal
Army, only son of the late Commodore Sir John
Hayes, to Frances Henrietta, only daughter of
the late Robert Torren*, C.B., Adjutant-General
Her Majesty's Forces in India 15th Sept.

Heigham, John Henry, Esq. of Hunston-hall, to
Lydia, second daughter of the Rev. H. W. Rous
Birch, vicar of Reydon and St.uthwold, in the
county of Suffolk, 2nd Sept.

Heintz, Robert, second son of Robert Heiutz, Esq.
of Canonbury-lane, to Isabella, younger dau. of
William Young, Esq. of Highbury-grange, 21st
Aug.

Heywood, Oliver, Esq. second son of Sir Benjamin
Heywood, Bart., of Claremont, to Eleanor, only
daughter of R. W. Barton, Esq. of Springwood,
7th Sept.

Hilton, James, Esq. of Lincoln's-inn-fields, to Ma-
ria Bernard, second dau. of James Bleazby, Esq.
of Stonehouse, llth Sept. J

Hincks, the Rev. Thomas, M.A. rector of Culfeig-
trin, county of Antrim, to Mary Annie, daughter
of the late George Lewis, Esq. of Tottenham,
Middlesex, 25th Aug.

Holmes, Joseph Foster, eldest son of Charles
Holmes, Esq. of Gorton, Lancashire, to Elizabeth,
youngest daughter of the late William Johnson,
Esq., land-surveyor, of Manchester, 2 1st Aug.

Hope, James Robert, Esq. Barrister-at law, son of
the late General the Hon. Sir Alexander Hope,
G.C.B., to Charlotte Harriett Jane, daughter of
J. G. Lockhart, Esq., iQth Aug.

Hunter, John, Esq. of Islington, to Elizabeth, only
daughter of the late John Cheap, Esq. of Tyndale-
place, 7th Sept,

Hyde, Henry, Esq. of Mecklenburgh-square, to
Julia, youngest daughter of Charles Cox, Esq. of
Cedar lodge, Stock^ell park, 19th Aug.

Izard, Rev. W. C., A.B., of Hoxton-square, Lon-
don, to Jane, third daughter of W. J. Tilley,
Esq., of Woodhatch, near Reigate, Qth Sept.

Jameson, Mark, Esq., of GrayVinn, to Elizabeth,
only child of George Jackson, Esq., of High
Wickham, 2nd Sept.

Jennyns, Clayton, Esq., of the 15th, or King's
Hussars, only son of the late Clayton Jennyns,
Esq., formerly Governor of Demerara, to Kliza-

. beth, only child of Capt. Willes Johnson, Royal
Navy, 30th Aug.

Jones, J., Esq., of Love-lane, Aldermanbury,
London, to Sarah, second daughter of the late
Thomas Bowen, Esq., of Welshpool, Mont-
gomeryshire, 13th Sept.

Jopling, C. M., Esq , of Urswick, to Emily
Sophia, youngest daughter of James BlacUet,
Esq., of Brixton, 26th Aug.

King, Paul John, second son of Captain J. D.
King, of Kingville, county of Waterford, to
Anna Maria, second daughter of William Man,
Esq., of Bromley, 2nd Sept.

Knight, Henry jun., Esq., of Terrace-lodge, Ax-
ininster, Devon, to Mary, second daughter of A.
Barns, Esq., of Broome, Swindon, Wilts, and of
Hawkchurch, Dorset, 7th Sept.

Kuper, Wm., Esq., to Mary, eldest daughter of
W. H. Driffill, Esq., of Thealby, Lincolnshire,
20th Aug.

Lambe, Frederick, Esq., of Ceylon, to Catherine
Ann Mary, eldest daughter of James Goddard,
Esq., 7'th'Sept.

Lambert, Edward John, Esq., eldest son of th.

. late John Edward Lambert, Esq., Solicitor, to

Emma, youngest daughter of the late John
Edward Longley, Esq., gth Sept.

Lamb, Christopher, Esq., of Camberwell-prove, to
Elizabeth, second daughter of Wm. Francis,
Esq., 75, Minories, 14th Sept.

Landon, Francis Newcombe, Esq., Solicitor, Brent-
wood, Essex, to Margaret Lsetitia, fourth dau. of
Wm. Brown, Esq., of St. Nicholas, Ipswich,
25th Aug.

Laycock, Henry Stamton, Esq., M.A., of the
Inner Temple, to Henrietta Carolina, elder
daughter of W. R. Jenkins, Esq.,. of Avenue-
road, Regent's Park, 16th Sept.

Lee, Mr. Wm. Allen, of Chapel street, Belgrave-
square, to Eliza, eldest daughter of Allen Bilzard,
Esq., of Half Moon-street, Piccadilly, 21st Sept.

Levick, Joseph, Esq., of Sharrovv, Sheffield, to
Mary Ann, daughter of the late John Hovil, Esq.,
of Thornton heath, Croydon, 3rd Sept.

Livois, Dr. Eugene, to Elizabeth Susanna, second
daughter of the late Arthur Wm. Morris, Esq., at
Paris, 14th Sept.

Lloyd, E. A., Esq., of Bedford-row, to Marie
Caroline Stephanie Gamier, eldest daughter of
M. P. Gamier, of Paris, igth Aug.

Loraine, Edward, Esq., of Wallington, Surrey,
to Henrietta Maria, only daughter of Edward
Filder, Esq., of Southwick-place, Hyde-park-
square, London, 14th Sept.

Lowther, Robert, Esq., of the H.E.I.C.C.S., to
Laura, third daughter of B. Martindale, Esq.,
Victoria-square, Grosvenor-place, London, loth
June.

Lumley, W. B., Esq., second son of the late
Major-General Sir James Lumley, E. 1C. 's , to
Elizabeth, daughter of Tnos. Humes, Esq., late
Royal Navy, in July.

Lynn, the Rev. Geo. Goodenough, M.A., of Hamp
ton-wick, Middlesex, to Henrietta, youngest
daughter of Ralph Naters, Esq., of Sandyford,
Newcastle-on-Tyne, 28th Aug.

MacOubrey, John, Esq., of the Middle Temple,
and Northern Circuit, barrister -at-law, to Clara,
second daughter of Thomas Carlisle, Esq., of
Hyde park-place West, London, 16th Sept,

Main, Robert, Esq., of Ravensbourne-park, Lewis-
ham, to Christiana, eldest daughter of W. J.
Bicknell, Esq., ot Sloane-terrace. llth Sept.

Maplestone, Henrv, Esq., to Emily May-rose, third
daughter of the late T. F. Hunt, Ksq.,'17th Aug.

Marshall, Brevet Major Hubert, of the 33rd Regi-
ment Madras Infantry, to Jessie, youngest dau.
of the late Mr. John Brooke, of Dunbar, 24th
Aug.

Martin, J. D., Esq., of Trieste, to Georgina Wil-
liamson, youngest daughter of G. Lovell, Esq.,
of Ely-place, her Majesty's Inspector of Small
Armsj 4th Sept.

MacAurthur.William, Esq. of Glasgow,to Margaret,
youngest daughter of James Willi amson, Esq.,
Carmyle, 26th Aug.

MacCallnm, Charles Campbell, Esq., of the 7th
Regiment Madras Native Infantry, to Maria
Louisa, eldest daughter of Richard Kirkman
Lane, Esq., of Argyll-street, Regent-street, 20th
Sept.

MacLaren, Wm. C., Esq., merchant, Leith, to
Maria Amelia, daughter of the late George Wil-
son, Esq., Bengal, 9th Sept.

Milbourne, Joseph Henry, Esq., youngest son of
Perceval William Milbourne, Esq., of Biuns-
wick-place, Islington, to Miss Sabiua Allsup, tlie
youngest daughter of John Allsup, Esq., of 16,
St. Paul's Church-yard, and Glocester-villa,
Hornsey-road, llth Sept.

Moore, Richard, Esq., eldest son of the Right
Hon. Richard Moore, Attorney- General for
Ireland, to Emma Frances, eldest daughter of
Richard Sharp, Esq., of Apps-court, in the
county of Surrey, 9th Sept.

Morris, William, Esq., of Carmarthen, to Magde-
lene Mary Anna, only daughter of Sackville F.
Gwynne, Esq., 31st Aug.

MARRIAGES

391

Mostyn, Llewellyn William, Esq., fifth son of th
late Sir Edward Mostyn, Bart., to Caroline, onlj
daughter of the late Henry Mostyn, of Usk, in
the county of Monmouth, Esq., 7th Sept.
Nalder, Fielding, Esq., barrister-at-law, to Eliza-
beth, eldest daughter |of the Rev. Thos. Bellas
vicar of St. Michaell's, Appleby, 26th Aug.

Openshaw, Henry, Esq., of Prestwich, to Ellen,
eldest daughter of William Durham, Esq., ol
Manchester, 3rd Sept.

Palmer, Edward, Esq., to Caroline Amelia, youngest
daughter of the late Rev. Wm. Gunthorpe, of
the island of Antigua, 24th Aug.

Parsons Mr. Wm Billington, of Berkhamsted, to
Ann Susanna, eldest daughter of Mr. Henry
Lane, 18th Sept.

Patmore, Coventry K., Esq., to Emily, daughter
of the late Rev. Edward Andrews, L.LD., 1 1th
Sept.

Payne, G. A., Esq., M.A., Barrister-at-law, of
Lincoln's-inn, to Amelia, youngest daughter of
the late John Carter, Esq., of Kelmscott, Oxon,
16th Sept.

Pedder, Henry Newshntn, third son of the late
James Pedder, Esq., of Ashton-lodge, Lancashire,
to Emma, only daughter of the late Alexander
Simpson, Esq., 19th Aug.

Perry, John George, Esq., of Westbourne street,
Hyde-park-gardens, to Elizabeth Anne, second
daughter of the late Samuel Chappell, Esq., of
George-street, Hanover-square, 25th Aug.

Perigal, Arthur, jun., Esq., A. R.S.A., Edinburgh,
to Hannah, the eldest daughter of James Steven-
son, Esq., Procurator- Fiscal for Roxburghshire,
1st Sept.

Peters, Thomas, Esq., of Knighton, Radnorshire,
to Elizabeth Whitfield, eldest daughter of
Thomas Du Card, Esq., M.D., late of Shrews-
bury, 2(5th Aug.

Peters, Mr. J. C., of Cambridge, to Catherine
Beaumont, youngest daughter of the late Thos.
Patmore, Esq., of Bishop's Stortford, 28th
Aug.

Phene' John S., Esq., of London, 'to Margaretta,
eldest daughter of Thomas Forsyth, Esq., of
South Shields, 7th Sept.

Philby, Henry Adams, son of Joseph Philby, Esq.,
of Goldings, Loughton, Essex, to Mary, second
daughter of James Weddell Bridger, Esq., of
Belmont, Chigweli, Qth Sept.

Pickering, R.H., Esq., of Earl Soham, in the
county of Suffolk, to Anne Hester, second dau.
of the late Major General Reeves, C.B., K.H.,
Lieutenant- Governor of Placentia, 1st Sept.

Pocklington, Joseph Pain, of York-place, City-
road, to Jane Finch, of Priory-villas, Canon-
bury, Islington, 20th August.

Portarlington, Henry John Reuben Earl of, to the
Lady Alexandrina Octavia Vane, second dau. of
the Marquis and Marchioness of Londonderry,
2nd Sept.1

Portlock, Samuel, Esq., of Brighton, to Miss
Paddison, sister of the late Henry Paddison,
Esq., of Ingleby, near Lincoln, 31st Aug.

Price Win., Esq. of Craven-street, Strand, to Emily
Mary, youngest daughter of General Sir Colin
Halkett, K.C.B., G.C.H., Colonel of the 45th
Regiment, 7th Sept.

Purdon, W.A., Esq., to Elizabeth C., only dau. of
Joseph Atwell, Esq., of Wilmington square. Igth
Sept.

Pyne, George, Esq., R.N.,to Mary Eliza, daughter
of Edward Dixon, Esq., of Dudley, 16th Aug.

Randolph, Rev. William Cater, M-A. of Trinity
College, Oxford, eldest son of the Rev'. Henry
Randolph, of Yate house, Gloucestershire, and
of Forest farm, Berkshire, and vicar of Hawkes-
bnry, Gloucestershire, to Grace, fourth daughter
of the late Rev. Herbert Randolph, rector of
Letcombe Bassett, Berks, and vicar of Chute,
Wilts, 24th August.

Rashleigh, the Rev. Henry Bnrvill, eldest son of
the Rev. George Rashltiyh, to Sarah Maria,

eldest daughter of the Rev. James King, 14th
Sept.

Rathbone, William, jun. Esq. to Lncretia Wain
wright, eldest daughter of the late S. S. Gair,
Esj. 6th Sept.

Redpath, Henry Syme, Esq of St. Swithin's lane
London, younger son of James Red path, Esq. of
Shooter's hill, Kent, to Harriett, eldest daugater
of the late Charles Adeney, Esq. of Gibson square,
Islington, 9th Sept.

Reid, Edward, eldest son of W. K. Reid, Esq. of
Claremont square, to Anna, eldest daughter of
John Barnard, Esq. of Cross street, Islington,
26 Ih Aug.

R< vnardson, Henry, fourth son of the late General
Birch Reynardson, of Holywell hall, Lincoln-
shire, to Eleanor Dorothea, youngest daughter of
Henry Samuel Partridge, Esq. of Hockham hall,
Norfolk, 9th Sept.

Rhys, Charles Horton, Esq only son of Major
Rhys, of Portland place, Bath, and grandson of
the late Sir Watts Horton, Bart, of Chadderton
hall, Lancashire, to Agnes Cuthberl, eldest dau.
of Colonel Cureton, C.B. Aide de Camp to the
Queen, and Adjutant General in the East Indies,
16th Sept.

Rivolta, D. A. Esq. of No. 10, Hart street, Blooms-
bury square, to Ann Maria Caroline, eldest dau.
of the Rev. J. M. Knott, vicar of Hard wick Priors
cum mernbris, 2nd Sept.

Roberts, Richard J. Esq. of Worcester, son of the
Rev. Richard, M.A. of Wallingford, and grand-
son of the late Rev. W. Hancock Roberts, D.D.
and rector of Broad was, to Rosa Edwiria, widow
of ihe late C. H. Baiubtidge, Esq. of Bombay,
third daughter of Captain J. L. White, of Theresa
place, (late 68th Light Infantry) and granddau.
of the late Major General John White, of Bengal.
9th Sept.

osier, Robert Grafton, Esq. M.A. Christchurch,
Oxford, only son of James M. Rossiter, Esq. of
Kennington place, Surrey, to Elizabeth Mary
Skelton, niece and heiress of the late Henry
Hurley, Esq. 26th Aug.

Sargent, Mr. Edward, to Miss Rebecca Clark Smith,
18th Sept.

SchwarKschild, A. Esq. of Lombard street, London,
eldest son of the late J. A. Schwar/schild, Esq.
of Frankfort on the Maine, to Abigail, third
daughter of John N. Messena, Esq. surgeon, of
Poplar, 8th Sept.

Selby, James, jun. Esq. surgeon, Greenwich, to
Eliza, eldest dau. of the late Richard Thompson,
Esq. of Stock well common, 4ih Sept. Jasai

Seymour, William Digby, Esq. barrister at [law,
of the Middle Temple and Northern Circuit, third
son of the hte Rev. Charles Seymour, vicar of
Kilronan, to Emily, second daughter of Joseph
John Wright, Esq. of Bishopwearmouth, co. Dui-
ham, 1st Sept.

Sin ringham, the Rev. J. W. eldest son of John
SheringlKim, Esq. of Kent lodge, Hanwell, lo
Caroline Harriet, second and youngest surviving
daughter of the late Lieut. Col. Try on, of the
38th Regiment, igth August.

Smith, the Rev. Henry, vicar of Easton Maudif,
Northamptonshire, son of the late Dean of
Christchurch, to Frances Bell^ eldest daughter of
the Rev. William Macbean, rector of Peter Tavy,
2nd Sept.

mith, John, Esq. of Grange road, Bermondsey, to
Henrietta Anne, only daughter of the late George
II .niphreys, Esq. of Greenwich, 26lh Aug.

Smyth, Leigh Churchill, Esq. of Mornington road,
Regent's park, to Mary, youngest daughter of
Jtlit- late Robert Bliss, Esq. of Rose hill, near Ox-
ford, 7ih Sept.

Smyth, the Rev. Hugh B. B.A. Incumbent of
Thornes, Wakefield, son of Edward Smyth, Esq.
of Norwich, to Jane Evvart, second daughter of
William Gott, Esq. of Leeds, 2nd Sept.
low, Walter Charles Edward, Esq. Her Majesty's
84th Regiment, to Harriett Eliaa Maria Vaughan

392

MARRIAGES.

third daughter of the Venerable Archdeacon Ed
ward Vaughan, late of Madras, 25th August.

Sothern, Edward Askew, Esq. of Liverpool, to
Julia, youngest dau. of the late Andrew Pinson,
Esq. of Dartmouth.

Stanrtly, Henry John, Esq. eldest son of the Rev.
J. Standly, of Southoe, Hunts, to Agnes Georgina,
third daughter of the late Sir Edward Poo re, Bart,
of CaffoalU. Hants, 17th August.

Straus, A. J. Esq. to Bertha, eldest daughter of the
late F. E. Fuld, Esq. banker and general agent
of Frankfort on the Maine, and at 53, Cornhill,
London, 22nd August.

Street, the Rev. Benjamin, B.A. curate of Sonth
Kelsey, Lincolnshire, to Mary, third daughter of
the late Captain J. Platt, R.N. of Hatfield, 24th
August.

Strong, Henry Linwood, Esq. barrister at law, to
Fanny Louisa, daughter ot the Hon. and Rw.
H. D.'Erskine and the late Lady Harriet Erskine,
16th Sept.

Swann, Richard R. Esq. to Charlotte Mary, youngest
daughter of the late William Barton, Esq. of
Rotherhithe, 1st Sept.

Swayne, the Rev. Robert George, to Catherine,
fourth daughter of the late Rev. George Hulme
of Shineneld, Berks, 7th Sept.

Tennant, William, Esq. Collector of Her Majesty's
Customs, Rochester, to Miss Ramsay Tennant
Whiteside, youngest daughter of the late Dr.
Philip Whiteside, of Ayr, 16th Sept.

Tennant, Charles, Esq. of Russell square, co. Mid-
dlesex, to Gertrude Barbara Rich Collier, eldest
daughter of Captain Henry T. B. Collier, of the
Royal Navy, llth Sept.

Tennant, William, Esq. of Thrapstone, Northamp
tonshire, solicitor, to Mary Fanny, eldest daugh1
ter of John Miller, Esq. of Peterborough, 16th
Sept.

Thomasset, Theodore, Esq. Leytonstone, to Saral
Ann, eldest daughter of Mr. Frederick B.irtleet,
Wanstead, Essex, 7th Sept.

Thompson, Mr. Henry Ay scough, of Upper Clapton
to Rebecca, youngest daughter of Thomas Dixon
Esq. of Tardebig^, near Broinsgrove, Worcester-
shire, 17th Sept.

Tollemache, the Hon. Frederick James, M.P. to
Isabella Anne, eldest daughter of Gordon Forbes
Esq. 4'h Sept.

Townsend, the Rev. William C., incumbent of Tur
longh, to Emma Mary, second daughter of the
late Colonel Edward Thomas Fitzgerald, of Tu
lough park, co. Mayo, Qih Sept.

Udall, Mr. Robert, of Edmonton, Middlesex, to
Marianne, eldest dau. of Mr. William Pocock
of Brighton, and of Hurst, co. Sussex, 9th Sept.

Vaughan, the Rev. Walter Arnold, vicar of Char
Sutton, and domestic chaplain to Viscount Bar-
ringtou, M.P. to Maria, daughter of the Rev

Daniel Francis Warner, vicar of Hoo St. War-
burgh, Kent, 7th Sept.

Venables, the Rev. Edmund, of Hurstmonceaux,
Sussex, to Caroline Mary, eldest daughter of
Henry Virtue Tebbs, Esq. of Southwood boose,
Highgate, 8ih Sept.

Verity, George Hamilton, Esq. Sarn Vawr, Gla-
morganshire, to Elinor Joanna, second daughter
of T. R. Wilson Ftrance, Esq. Rawcliffe Hall,
Lancashire, 24th August.

Voysey, Henry Annesley, Esq. to Henrietta, dau.
of Captain Henry Curtis, Royal Artillery, 9th
Sept.

Walters, Mr. Daniel, jun. of Upper Edmonton,
and Wilson street, Finsbury, to Lucy, youngest
daughter of William Howard, Esq. of Comer
hall, Hemel Hempstead, Herts, 14th Sept.

Waters, William, Esq. of Cholderton, Hants, to
Mary Anne, second daughter of Robert Hatful!,
Esq. of Deplford, Kent, 8th Sept.

Watherston, the Rev. J. D. M-A. Head Master of
Monmouth Grammar School, to Sophia, daughter
Joseph Price, Esq. of the same place, 16th Sept.

Weber, Victor, Esq. of Ramsgate, to Julia Lucas,
youngest daughter of Thomas Higham, Esq. of
Margate, and of Charleston, South Carolina, 7th
Sept.

Weddell, William Esq. of Stokes-bay cottage,
Alverstoke, to Mary, eldest daughter of Edward
White, Esq. of Great Maryborough street and
Cambridge square, 7th Sept.

Weldon, Robert Henry, Esq. Norfolk road, Regent's
park, to Caroline Jane, only daughter of the late
Gilbert George Mitchell, Esq. of Calcutta, 14th
Sept.

Williams, Robert, Esq. of Bridehead, to Mary Anne,
daughter of the Rev. John William Cunningham ,
vicar of Harrow, 7th Sept.

Wilson, Henry, youngest son of the late John
Wilson, Esq. of Wandle grove, Mitcham, to
Charlotte Ainer, third daughter of Ralph Good,
E*q. of Hursley, Winchester, 8th Sept.

Wolndge, James, Esq. son of Colonel Wolridge, of
Bath,~ to Charlotte Augusta Fit-Id, daughter of
the late Joseph Field, Esq. of Hatfield, Herts,
and of 9, Guildford street, Russell square, 2nd
Sept.

Woodard, Mr. Edward, of Bellericay, Essex, soli-
citor, to Caroline, youngest daughter of the late
Thomas Bridge, Esq. of Ramseys Tyrrell, Butts-
bury, Essex, 18th Sept.

Woodroffe, John Edward, Esq. of Lincoln's Inn,
barrister at law, son of John Woodroffe, Esq.
M.D. of Dublin, to Maria, youngest daughter of
the late Broome Phillips Witts, Esq. of Bruns-
wick square, and Snrbiton Lawn, llth Sept.

Yardley, William, Esq. Judge of the Supreme
Court at Bombay, to Amelia, third daughter of
John Wilkin, Esq. of Spring gardens, 4th Sept.

Ashton, Joseph, Esq. Barrister-at-law, at
Woolton Hall, aged 27, 27th Aug.

Auriol, Edward James, only child of the
Rev. Edward Auriol, Rector of St.

at Geneva, aged 17, 19th Aug.
Baker, John Valentine, Esq. late Master

Attendant, E.I.C., 8th Sept.
Baker, John Rose, Esq. late of Chalk,

Kent, at Milton, aged 66, 20th Aug.
Barrett, Samuel Tufnall, Esq. formerly

Captain 37th Regiment, at Connaught
Square, aged 87, 20th Aug.
Beard, Thomas, Esq. M.D., formerly of
the Royal Artillery, aged 61, 29th Aug.

Dunstan's in the West, London, drowned Becher, Anne Catherine, only daughter of

the Rev. Michael H. Becher, of Clyda,

near Mallow, co. Cork, 21st Aug.
Beckwith, Lieut.-Col. Henry F., of the

Rifle Brigade, atUpper Canada, 31st July.
Beetson, William, Esq. of Woburn Place,

at Brighton, llth Sept.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

393

Bells, Arthur, Esq. of Brompton Grove
aged 73, 1 4th Sept.

Birch, Jonathan, Esq. at the Palace of
Belle Vue, near Berlin, where the poet
had the honour to reside by favour of the
King of Prussia, aged 64, 8th Sept. Mr
Birch was the translator of Goethe's
" Faust," both parts ; and had, just before
his death, completed a poetical trans
lation of the popular German legend
"The Nibelungen Lied," which, under
Royal patronage, will be published in
German and English.

Bishop Thomas, Esq. Surgeon, R.N., at
Islington, aged 59, 23rd Aug.

Bishop, Elizabeth Kyd, younpest daughter
of Lieutenant William Edward Bishop
R.N., and sister of William Edward
Coyte Bishop, surgeon, Easington, ol
consumption, at Easington, Durham,
aged 18, 10th Sept.

Bowyer. William, Esq. at Hitchin, Herts,
aged 69, 3 1st Aug.

Bramston. Charlotte, relict of Thos. Gar-
diner Bramston, Esq. of Skreens, and
second daughter of the late Sir Henry
Hawley, Bart., of Leybourn-grange,
Kent, at Sprinfield Lyons, Esses, aged
65, 25th Aug.

Broad, Mary Boase, only daughter of
Francis B. Broad, at Beaconsfield, 7th
Sept.

Brodie, Ellen, eldest daughter of the late
David Brodie, Esq. of Calcutta, at Brix-
ton, 25th Aug.

Buckland, Mrs. Elizabeth, at Plumstead,
]3th Sept.

Budd, Caroline Anne, youngest daughter of
the late Richard Budd, Esq. of Haverstock
Hill, 14th Sept.

Burke, Colonel Sir John, Bart., of Marble
Hill, co. Galway, at his son, Mr. Charles
Granby Burke's House, in Dublin.
This gentleman inherited a very consider-
able estate from his father, who acquired
it by successful agricultural pursuits.
That gentleman, the late Sir Thomas
Burke, on whom the title was conferred,
died in 1813, leaving one son, the Baronet
just deceased, and five daughters : tirst,
Maria, wife of Maurice O'Connor, Esq. of
Mount Pleasant, and mother of the Coun-
tess Dowager of Dysart ; second, Julia, m.
to Malachy Daly, Esq. of Raford ; third,
Elizabeth, Countess Dowager of Clanri-
carde ; fourth, Anne, widow of the late Sir
Henry Tichbourne, Bart., and Eleanor,
who m. first Nicholas Browne, Esq. of
Mount Heazle, and secondly, Percy,
present Viscount Strangford. Sir John
Burke, the only son, whose death we now
record, sat, for a period, in the House!
of Commons, as Knight of his native
shire, and always supported the Whig
Government. He m. in 1812, Elizabeth

Mary, eldest daughter of the late Right
Hon. John Calcraft, M.P., and leav< s
six sons and two daughters : of the
former the eldest is now Sir Thomas
John Burke, Bart., of Marble Hill, M.P.
for the county of Galway.

Burnnby, Rita Briones, the youngest dau.
of Major R. B. Burnaby, Royal Artil-
lery, in Dublin, after a short but severe
illness, aged three years and eight months,
13th Sept.

Burton, Rev. W. G. P , upwards of 32
years rector of St. Thomas in-the-Vale,
in Spanish-town, Jamaica, 29th July.
He was the second son of the late Rev.
W. Burton, formerly rector of Faccomb
cum Tangley, Hants, and latterly of
Falmouth Trelawney, in the Island of
Jamaica.

Caddell, Capt. Walter, E.I.C S., 22d June.

Cane, Thomas, Esq. late of Norwood Green,
aged 7L, 15th Sept.

Carlisle, Nicholas, Esq. K.H., D.C.L.,
F.R.S. &c., upwards of 40 years one of
the Secretaries to the Society of Anti-
quaries, aged 77, 27th Aug.

Cartwright, Thomas, Esq. at the Hill,
Bewdley, aged 80, 10th Sept.

Chamberlain, John, Esq. of Teignmouth,
at London, aged 70, 26th Aug.

Chandltss, Henry Burton, only child of
John Chandless, Esq. 8th Sept.

Chapman. S.irah, wife of Thomas Sands
Chapman, Esq. at the Park, Ashton
Clinton, 14th Sept.

Christie, Lieut.-Col. G. L.s late of the
3rd Regiment or Buffs, atBelmont, Bath,
16th Aug.

Clarke, Dinah Mary, wife of W. Lawrence
Clarke, Esq. at Pentonville, 28th Aug.

Clarke, Charles, Esq., at Dulwich. aged 75,
7th Sept.

Element, Sarah, wife of James Kinlock
Clement, Esq. of Leytonstone, Essex, at
Brighton, 22nd Aug.

Dooch, William, Esq. of Kennington, for-
merly of Vale Cottage, near Markgate
Street, Herts, aged 77, 10th Sept.

Cook, Charles. Esq. of Montpelier, South
Lambeth, aged 50, 14th Sept.

Cotton, Charles B., Esq., of Kingsgate,
Isle of Thanet, at Montague Place,
aged 80, 5th Sept.

Crafer, John Esq. Collector of Customs at
Galle, at Columba, Ceylon, aged 34, 29th
June.

Croasdaile, Mrs., widow of the late J. A.
Croasdaile, Esq., at Hargrave-lodge, Stan-
sted, 1 1th Sept.

Dundy, John William, Esq. at Ramsgate,
aged 62, 24th Aug.

Cust, General Frederick, Esq. of the 5 1st
N. I., third son of the late Hon. W.
Cust, Commissioner of Customs, at La-
hore, 8th June.

394

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Dalrymple, Lieut.-Col. Campbell James, at
the Havana, on the 17th of July, after a
long and painful illness. This gentleman
formerly A. D. C. to Lord Viscount
Combermere, when Governor of Barba-
does and H. M. Commissioner of Arbi-
tration in the mixed court of justice,
established at the Havana between Great
Britain and Spain for the suppression of
the slave trade, fell a victim to the un-
healthy tropical climate of Surinam and

the Havana, in which he served
Queen and country nineteen years.

leaves a widow and five children to latnenl
his loss. Colonel Dalrymple was the
eldest son of Hew Dalrymple, Esq.
Major of the 49th Regiment and A. D. C
to the Duke of Rutland when Lord-
Lieut, of Ireland, by Maryanne, his wife
daughter and heiress of James Straker,
Esq., Barrister-at-Law, by Elizabeth,
his wife, daughter of the Hon. James
Bruce, of Gartlet, co. Clackmanan, Chief
Judge of the Island of Barbados, grand-
son of Robert Bruce, Esq., of Kennet.
The Colonel's father, Major Hew Dal-
rymple, was third son of General Camp
bell Dalrymple, Col. of the 3rd Dragoons
and Governor of Guadaloupe, who first
taught the British Army the broad swore
exercise and published in 1761, "A
military essay on the raising, arming
clothing, and discipline of the British
infantry and cavalry." General Dal
rymple was a younger son of the Hon
Sir Hew Dalrymple, Bart, M.P. for
North Berwick, Lord President of tht
Court of Session, and one of the Com
missioners appointed to accomplish th<
treaty of the union, third son of James
1st Viscount Stair.

Dalziel, Sarah, widow of the late R Dalziel
Esq. artist, 3rd Sept.

Davenport, Edward Davies, Esq. at Capes
thorne Hall, aged 69, 9th Sept. Mr
Davenport, who possessed the estates o
Calveley, Woodford, and Capesthorne ir
Cheshire, and that of Court Garden
Bucks, was the eldest son of the late
Davies Davenport, Esq. of Capesthorne
M.P. for Cheshire from 1806 to 1830, bj
Charlotte, his wife, daughter of Ralph
Sneyd, Esq. of Keel, co. Stafford. He
was born 27th April, 1778, and m. 8th
November, 1830, Caroline Anne, dau. of
Richard Hurt, Esq. of Wirksworth, and
has left a son and heir, Arthur Henry,
Few families in Cheshire, a county
abounding in ancient and eminent houses,
hold a higher possession than that of
Davenport, deriving as it does from
Ormus de Davenport, living temp. Con-

Dayshe, Esq. formerly of New Grove,

near Petworth, 18th Sept.
Deane, Anne, widow of the late Captain

Charles Meredith Deane, of the 24th

Dragoons, at Bath, 20th Aug.
De Home, George, second son of Abraham

de Home, Esq. of the Stock Exchange,

at Thetford, aged 27, 13th Sept.
Dent, Mrs., of Fitzroy Square, aged 54,

17th Sept
Dermott, George Darby, Esq. of Bedford

Square, the eminent lecturer on anatomy

and surgery, aged 45, 12th Sept.
Desbrisay, Harriet Anne, wife of the Rev.

T. H. Desbrisay, at Yealmpton Vicarage,

20th Aug.

Dillon, La Baronne Henrietta Sophia Isa-
bella, at Blackheath, 25th Aug.
Dimond, John Baker, Esq. of Torquay,

aged 62, 31st Aug.
Disney, Augusta Georgina, relict of Wm.

Disney, Esq.
1 8th Sept.

at Kingston-on-Thames,

Day, Agnes, Eliza, daughter of Dr. Day,

of Southwick-street, 17th Sept.
Dayshe, Elizabeth, relict of the late George

Dobson, Sir Richard, M.D., F.R.S. &c.,
Inspector of Hospitals and Fleets, aged
74, 1st Sept. This gentleman, descended
from a branch of an ancient Westmore-
land family, was born in 1744, entered
the navy as a surgeon in 1797, and, after
a service of seven and twenty years, was
appointed Chief of the Medical Staff of
Greenwich Hospital, with ^a salary of
£500 a year. In 1814 he became a
Knight of St. Wladimir, in 1815 re-
ceived the Linsignia of the Order of the
Danuebrog, and in 1831 was knighted by
his own Sovereign. Sir Richard married,
first, in 1841, Miss Alsten, second dau.
of the late Wm. Alsten, Esq. of Roches-
ster ; and secondly, in 1824, Miss Purves,
third daughter of Sir Alexander Purves,
Bart., of Purves Hall.

Drake, Elizabeth Anne, only surviving dau.
of Capt. John Drake, R.N;, aged 27, 5th
Sept.

Dnffield, Mrs., of Duke-street, Portland
Place, aged 79, 21st Aug.

Farrar, Thomas, Esq. late of Cheltenham,
and formerly of the Exchequer Office,
Somerset House, aged 76, 21st Aug.

Fead, Lieut.-Col,, Geo. C.B., late of the
Grenadier Guards, son of the late
Lieut.-General Fead, Royal Artillery,
aged 65, 13th Sept.

Follett, Lady, relict of the late Sir Wil-
liam Webb Follett, Attorney-General,
9th Sept. Lady Follett was the eldest
dau of Sir Ambrose Hardinge Giffard,
Chief Justice of Ceylon, by Harriett,
his wife, dau. Jof Lovell Pennell, Esq.
of Lyme-Regis. and grand-daughter of
John Giffard, Esq., Accountant-General
of H. M. Customs at Dublin, whose fa-
ther Henry Giffard, was the eldest though
disinherited son of Jolm Giffard, Esq.,
of Brightely, co. Devon.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

395

Forster, Sarah, widow of^Joseph Forster,
Esq. late of Bromley, 8th Sept.

Fraser, Vincent Hanson, medical pupil of
King's College, second son of Simon
Fraser, Esq., member of the [Board of
Commissioners at Meerut, in the Hon.
East India Company's Bengal Establish-
ment, a most amiable and promising
young man, aged 21, 7th Sept.

Freeth, Miss, of Standard Hill, near Not-
tingham, at Brighton, 14th Sept.

Fullerton, George Alexander, Esq. of Bal
lintoy Castle, co. Antrim, and Tocking-
ton Manor, co. Gloucester, aged 71, 16th
Sept. He was the son of Dawson Down-
ing, Esq., of Rowesgift, co. Londonderry,
and great grandson of the famous Col.
Adam Downing, a distinguished adherent
of William III., in the Irish war. The
surname of Fullerton he assumed on
inheriting a considerable property from
his maternal grand-uncle, Alexander Ful-
lerton, of Ballintoy. The family of
Downing is of very ancient descent, and
was settled, in the time of Henry VIII.,
in the county of Essex, the head of the
house, Geoffrey Downynpe. Esq., of Poles
Belcham, being then described as a per-
son of rank and fortune. To the mu-
nificence and public spirit of one of his
descendants, Sir George Downing. Bart.,
K.B., of East Hatley, the University of
Cambridge ovfjes, the foundation of Down-
ing College. Mr. Fullerton, whose de-
cease we record, has left several children.
His eldest daughter, Frances, is wife of
Sir Andrew Armstrong, Bart., M.P.; and
his eldest son, Captain Alexander George
Fullerton, married in 1833, Lady Geor-
giana Leveson Gower, second daughter
of the late Earl Granville, a lady well
known in the literary world by her popu-
lar novels of " Ellen Middleton " and
" Grantley Manor.

Gell, Mary-Ann, wife of F. T. Gell, Esq.
of Devonshire-street, Portland-place, 16th

F Sept.

Gordon, Rosa, relict of the late James
Gordon, Esq. of Xerez-de-la-Frontera,
near Cadiz, aged 83, 14th Aug.

Gregg, Maria, widow of the late Henry
Gregg, Esq., at Park-square, aged 75,
2nd Sept.

Grei/n, Theophilus, Esq., at Brighton, aged
77, 15th Sept.

Gresley, the Rev. Sir William Nigel, Bart.
He was eldest son of the late Rev. Wm.
Gresley, of Netherseale, and succeeded
to the Baronetcy at the demise of his
kinsman, Sir Roger Gresley, M.P., of
Drakelow, co. Derby. He \vas born in
1806, and married in 1831, Georgina
Anne, second daughter of the late Geo
Reid, Esq., by whom he has left issue,
the eldest son being the present Sir Thos

Gresley, Bart. The family of Gresley
ranks in antiquity with the oldest in the
empire, and was founded in England by
one of the companions in arms of the
Conqueror, Nigell, the youngest son of
Roger de Toeny, standard bearer of Nor-
mandy.

Grosvenor, Margaret, wife of "W. L. Gros-
venor, Esq. at Lower Edmonton, 17th
Sept.

Hague, Miss Judith, of Tottenham, at Has-
tings.

Hamilton, John, Esq. Advocate of Edin-
burgh, 3rd Sept.

larman, Anne, wife of H. W. Harman,

Esq., C. E. of Northfleet. Kent, 31st Aug.

larvey. Elizabeth Frances, eldest child of

the Rev. Richard Harvey, rector of
Hornsey, 12th Sept.

lavers, William Joseph, second son of
Thomas Havers, Esq. of Thelton Hall,
co. Norfolk, at Rio Janeiro, 27th June.

lawtayne, Esther, wife of the Rev. W. G.
Hawtayne, at Blackheath, 26th Aug.

liggins, the Rev. Joseph, rector of East-
nor, (to which he was instituted in 1795),
and of Pixley, co. Hereford, a Deputy-
Lieutei;ant for that shire, and in the com-
mission of the peace for the counties of
Hereford, Worcester, and Gloucester ;
aged 76, 7th Sept. The following day
his widow, Mary, daughter of T. Hussay,
gent., died aged 75. They have left issue,
1st, Thomas, in holy orders, of Stoulton,
co. Worcester ; 2nd, Joseph Allen, of
West Bank, near Ledbury ; 3rd, Samuel,
of Berrow Court, co. Worcester 4th,
Edward, in holy orders, of Bosbury House,
near Ledbury ; 5th, Robert ; 6th, Wil-
liam ; 7th, Francis; 1st, Ann m. to the
Rev. Joseph Lawson Whatley, and 2nd,
Mary. The family of Higgins represents
the ancient house of Clynton of Castle-
ditch, which owned in early times the
greater part of the parish of Eastnor.
ill, James, Esq. late of Gray's-Inn, at
Islington, aged 46, 26th Aug.

rlobson, Miss Louisa, youngest daughter of
the late Samuel Hobson, Esq. of West
Burton, co. York, at London, 13th Sept.

tlohenzollern - Hechingen, The Princess.
The Catholic princedom of Hohenzollern-
Hechingen lies in Suabia, one of the cir-
cles of the Germanic Confederation. The
reigning princess Eugenia, whose death
we record, was the second daughter of the
famous Eugene Beauharnois, Duke of
Leuchtenberg, by his wife Augusta, dau.
of Maximilian, late King of Bavaria,
The Princess Eugenia was born the 23rd
December, 180H, and was married the
22nd May ,"1826, to Frederick William
Hermann Constantine, reigning Prince
of HohenzollenrHechingen, and Duke
of Sagan, by whom she had no issue.

396

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Her Serene Highness died on the 1st inst.

Huddleston, Richard, Esq. at Sawston Hall,
co. Cambridge, aged 79, 15th Sept. The
Sawston branch of the ancient race of
Hodelston, or Huddleston of Millum
Castle, co. Cumberland, became fixed in
Cambridgeshire some time in the 15th
century through an alliance with the il-
lustrious House of Nevill, an alliance
which brought large estates to the family,
and entitled its'descendants to quarter the
Plantagenet arms. Major Huddleston,
whose death we record, served as High
Sheriff for Cambridgeshire and Hunts
in 1834. He was 10th in lineal descent
from Sir William Hoddleston, Knt., and
the Lady Isabel Nevill, his wife, sister
and coheir of George Nevill, Duke
Bedford. As he dies unmarried, the
estates and representation of the family
devolve on his brother EDWARD HUD-
DLESTON, Esq.

Hughes, Susanna, wife of the Rev. Henry
Hughes, Incumbent of All Saints, Gor-
don-square, 1st Sept.

Humby, Elizabeth Jane, wife of Edwin
Humby, Esq. and eldest daughter ot
William Clarke, Esq. of St. John's Wood,
8th Sept.

Hume, Sally, relict of the late Abraham
Hume, Esq. formerly of Bilton Grange,
co. Warwick, aged 78, 24th Aug.

James, Richard, Esq. at Lower Phillimore
place, Kensington, aged 86, 3rd Sept.

Jeans, Jane, wife of Thomas Jeans, Esq. at
Naples, 5th August.

Jocelyn, the Hon. Mrs. Two years have
only intervened between the marriage of
this young lady and her death. The lat-
ter melancholy event occurred at Tolly-
more Park, 26th August. Mrs Jocelyn.
who had just completed her 25th year,
was daughter of Major-General Sir Neil
Dougl-is, K. C. B , Commander of the
Forces in Scotland — a gallant and highly
distinguished officer, who, following the
footsteps of his illustrious ancestors —

And Douglases were heroes every age —
commanded the celebrated Highland
Regiment, the 79th, at Waterloo. The
branch of the noble House of Angus,
from which he descends, was known as
that of " Cruxton and Stobbs." Cecilia,
Sir Neil's second daughter, the lady
whose early death we record, married,
19th February, 1845. the Hon. Augustus
George Frederick Jocelyn, Captain in
the 16th Dragoon Guards, youngest son
of Robert, late Earl of Roden, by his
second wife; and half-brother, conse-
quently, of the present Earl.

Johnson, John Bulkeley, Esq. of Mortlake

House, Congleton, aged 75, 14th Sept.
Jones, Mrs. Charlotte, formerly miniature
painter to H. R. H. the late Princess

Charlotte of Wales, 2nd Sept.

Jones, Margaret, relict of the late Rev.
John Jones, vicar of Foy, co. Hereford,
aged 78, 7th Sept.

Keating, Lieut.-Gen. Sir Henry Shechy,
K.C.B. Colonel of the 33rd Regiment,
aged 70, J 2th. Sept. Sir Henry entered
the army in 1794, and served in the West
Indies, where, at Guadaloupe, he was
severely wounded. In 1810 he com-
manded the attack upon St. Paul's, Isle
of Bourbon, and also at the capture of
the island itself. In 1837 he became
Lieut. -General, and in 1845 obtained the
Colonelcy of the 33rd Foot.

Kelsey, F. Esq. late of the Colonial Office,

at Newington, aged 86, 6th Sept.
of Kennedy, the Rev. George John, M.A. late
Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge,
and one of the Masters of Rugby School,
at Rugby, aged 36, llth Sept.

Kerr, Helena Augusta, infant daughter of
Niven Kerr, Esq. H. B. M. Consul,
Cyprus, 3rd July.

Kirby, Elizabeth, wife of R. C. Kirby, Esq.
of Blandford square, 25th August.

Kenmure, Adam Gordon, Viscount, the
chief of the house of Gordon, of Lochin-
var, died at Kenmure Castle, in the
Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, on the 1st
September. His Lordship was born 9th
January, 1792, and married, in Novem-
ber, 1843, Mary-Anne, daughter of the
late James Wildey, Esq. In early life
he served in the Royal Navy, and took
part in Sir R. Calder's action, and in the
glorious victory of Trafalgar. In 1808,
while in the Seahorse., he was present at
the capture of a Turkish frigate; and,
subsequently, gained further distinction
at the taking of the Islands of Peanosa
and Zuneta, as well as in a variety of
successful operations on the coast. His
Lieutenant's commission bore date 1st
July, 1815. As his Lordship has left
no issue, the family estates devolve on
his sister, the Hon. Louisa Bellamy
(widow of Charles Bellamy, Esq. of the
East India Company's Service), who as-
sumes, under the terms of the entail, the
name and arms of Gordon. The succes-
sion to the title remains in doubt. Wil-
liam Henry Pelham Gordon, the deceased
Lord's brother, went to India many years
ago, and has not since been heard of.
Few branches of the illustrious house of
Gordon have held a more prominent place
in Scottish history than " Kenmure's
line." In the patriotic struggle of Bruce
and Wallace, at Halidon Hill, at Flod-
den, and at Pinkie, the chiefs of the
family fought with conspicuous gallantry ;
and in the memorable rising of '15, the
sixth Viscount sealed by his death his
devotion to the Royal dynasty of the

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

S97

Stuarts Taken prisoner at Preston Pans,
his Lordship was conveyed to London,
where he was tried, condemned, and exe-
cuted on Tower-hill.

Lambert,General Sir John, G.C.B., K.S.W.
and Knight Commander of Maximilan
Joseph, Col. of the 10th Regiment of
Foot, at Weston-house, Thames Ditton,
aged 75, 14th Sept. This gallant officer
served his country full fifty years, and
fought in the Peninsula and at Waterloo.

Lane, Ursula, wife of Lieut.-Col. Charles
R. W. Lane, C. B. Bengal Army, aged
39, 9th Sept.

Lear, Jeremiah, Esq. of Lyminster, Sussex,
aged 83, 18th Sept.

Lee, Mary Anne Elizabeth, eldest daughter
of the Rev. Henry Lee, at South Rayn
ham Vicarage, 9th Sept.

Levett, Philip Stimpson, Esq. of Albert
Road, Regent's Park, aged 76, 3rd Sept.

Lewis, James, Esq. lately one of the Chief
Commissioners in London, and subse-
quently, in 1841, appointed sole arbitrator
for adjudicating on claims to compensation
under the act for abolishing slavery ; for
merly Speaker of the House of Assembly
of Jamaica, and Advocate-General for
that island ; at his house in Park street,
Grosvenor square, in his 70th year, 18th
August.

Mackay, Alexander, Esq. at Brighton, aged
29, 31st Aug.

Mackenzie, Henry, Esq. of Islington, aged
64, 21st Aug.

Macleod, Col. Sir Henry George, K.H.
late Governor of Trinidad, 2()th August
The death of this gallant officer, a Colonel
in the Army, occurred at Bishopsgate
near Windsor His military services
were highly distinguished. For his con-
duct at the siege of Dantzic he received
the Order of St. Wladimir, and in the
glorious conflict of Waterloo he had the
honour of taking part. At one time he
was Lieutenant-Governor of St. Kitts
became, subsequently, Lieut.-Governor
of Trinidad ; and was appointed, even
tually, Governor and Commander-in-Chie
of that island. Sir Henry married, in
1843, Henrietta, daughter of the late Rev
Sir John Robinson, Bart, of Rokeby.Hall,
co. Louth.

Macnabb, Mary, relict of the late James
Macnabb, Esq. of Arthurstone, co. Perth,
aged 33, 27th Aug.

Manis, Mary Anne, widow of the late Wil-
liam Marris, Esq. of Gray's Inn, 6th Sept.

Mayers, Anne, wife of John Pollard Mayers,
aged 68, 6th Sept.

M'Caskill, Elizabeth Mary, sixth daughter
of the lateMajor-General Sir John M'Cas-
kill, aged 15, 2;jth Aug.

Meelkerke, Maria Henrietta, wife of Adol-

phus Meelkerke, Esq. of Julians, Herts,
21st Aug.

Montague, William, Esq. of Constitution
House, Gloucester, one of her Majesty's
Justices of the Peace for that city, and
son of the late John Montague, Esq. of
Cookham, Berks, suddenly, at the New-
arks, Leicester, the residence of his,son-
in-law, the Rev. Otavius F. Owen, M.A.,
from disease of the heart, in the 37th year
of his age, 19th Aug.

Montesquiou, Count Alfred. The family of
Montesquiou is one of very ancient and
highly honourable descent in France.
Count Alfred de Montesquiou, whose me-
lancholy death we here record, was a much
respected member of this house. He was
the brother of Count Anatole de Montes-
quiou, Chevalier d'Honneur to the Queen
of the French, and uncle to M. de Mon-
tesquiou Deputy for the Department of
the Sarthe. Count Alfred had married
the daughter of General Peyron, and was
the father of eight children. He was in
the enjoyment of all the advantages of
rank and fortune ; nevertheless on the
morning of Friday, the 27th August, he
stabbed himself to death in his sleeping
apartment, at his residence, in the Fau-
bourg St. Germaine. No satisfactory rea-
son can yet be given for this terrible sui-
cide, which forms a kind of minor tragedy
to that of the wicked Duke de Praslin,
and his unfortunate wife.

Moreton, Sophia, relict of William Moreton,
Esq. at Hornsey, aged 92, Sept. 6.

Morris, William. Esq. of Woodford Hall,
Essex, aged 50, 8th Sept.

Mott, John Thruston, Esq. at Barningham
Hall, Norfolk, aged 63, 12th Sept.

Munro Catherine, relict of the late David
Munro, Esq. of Quebec, aged 63, 18th
Sept.

Murray, Henry Charles, eldest son of James
Murray, Esq. of Queen Anne-street,
aged 8.

Murray, Ellen, wife of Lieut.-Colonel Kent
Murray, Knt. St. F. aged 25, 27th Aug.

Newhouse, Frederick Dundas, son of the
late Col. Newhouse, R. Art. at Limerick,
aged 33, 23rd Aug.

Newton, Thomas, second surviving son of
Samuel Newton, Esq. of Croxton Park,
aged 43, 19th Sept.

Norton, Susanna, wife of William1 Norton,
Esq. late of Peckham, at Woodbridge
Abbey, Suffolk, 12th Sept.

Nortzell, Thomas, Esq. late of Abingdon,
aged 70, 3rd Sept.

Overend, Mrs. of Bolsover Hill, near Shef-
field, aeed 71, 25th Aug.

Parker, Charles George. Esq. of Springfield
Place, Essex, aged 68, 21st Aug.

Pearson, the llev. William, LL.D. rector of

398

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

South Kilworth, co. Leicester, aged 81
6th Sept.

Peckham, William Scott, Esq. of the Inner
Temple, at Greenwich, aged 75, 6th Sept

Peel, Lady Jane, wife of the Right Hon
William Yates Peel, M.P. and daughter
of Stephen, late Earl of Mountcashell, 5th
Sept. This estimable lady was born 17th
September, 1796, and married 17th June.
1819, She leaves a very large family to
mourn her loss. The noble house of
Mountcashell deduces its descent from
Thomas de Moore, one of the Knights
who accompanied the Conqueror to Eng-
land, and who survived the decisive battle
of Hastings, in which he had a principal
command. About the middle of the four-
teenth century, the ancestors of the pre-
sent Earl were seated in the West of
England ; and in the beginning of Queen
Elizabeth's reign, they purchased an estate
near Lurden, co. Salop, whence, for nearly
a century, they were designated the Mores
of" Shropshire." In the time of James
^Richard More, Esq. emigrated to Ireland ;
and his son, Stephen, purchasing the estate
of Kilworth, co. Cork .[became the ancestor
of the Moores, of Kilworth, now Earls of
Mountcashell.

Pennefather, the Rt. Hon. Edward, at
Dublin, 6th Sept. This distinguished
gentleman, beyond all question the ablest
equity lawyer in Ireland, was called to
the Bar in Easter term, 1796, and after
practising with pre-eminent success for
nearly half a century, attained one of the
highest honours of his profession, being
appointed Lord Chief Justice of the
Queen's Bench. This dignified office he
held at a very remarkable crisis — the
memorable period of the State Triais
when Mr. O'Connell was arraigned.
His Lordship did not continue long after
to preside over the Court.' His health
failed, and he retired into private life.
Mr. Pennefather belonged to the highly
respectable family of Pennefather, of
New Park, co. Tipperary. His father,
Major William Pennefather, of the 5th
Dragoons, who sat in the Irish Parlia-
ment for Cashel, was second son of Ri-
chard Pennefather, Esq. of New Park,
by Mary, his wife, daughter of John
Graham, Esq. of Platten. Mr. Penne-
father's death occurred at his residence
in Fitzwilliam-square, Dublin, after a
lengthened illness. He was married o
.Miss Darby, daughter of John Darby,
, Esq. of Great George-street, West minster,
and of Leap, in the King's County, and
leaves issue three sons and two daughters.
The right honourable gentleman's elder
brother, who still survives, is also a dis-
tinguished lawyer, and sits on the Irish
Bench as one of the Barons of the Ex-
chequer.

Penner, Caroline Dorothy, wife of Charles
Penner, Esq. Lachine, near Montreal,
Canada, at the residence of her brother,
Mr. Rowland, Tottenham - court - road,
London, 10th Sept.

Penney, Sarah, wife of William Penney,
Esq. of Northwick Terrace, Maid a Hill,
aged 74, 21st Aug.

Perceval, Lieut. - Colonel Philip Joshua,
late of the Grenadier Guards, at Brighton,
10th Sept.

Pigot, Mary, wife of Sir Robert Pi got, Bt.
6th Sept.

Pinkney, Prudence, relict of the late Fran-
cis Pinkney,Esq of Whitehall and Swan-
sea, at Notting hill, 6th Sept.

Pryce, Mary, relict of the late Thomas
Pryce, Esq. of Greenwich, aged 87, '26ih
Aug.

Puddicombe, G. B., Esq., Captain and
Paymaster of the Plymouth division of
Royal Marines, 2Jst Aug.

Rackstraw, Anne, wife of G. B. Rackstraw,
Esq. at Gravesend, 19th Sept.

Ramsden, Charles, youngest son of Captain
Ramsden, at Hexthorpe, 6th Sept.

Randal, Mary, wife of Alexander Randal,
Esq. banker of Maidstone, aged 61, 29th
Aug.

Redifer, Mary, relict of the late William
Redifer, Esq. of Stamford, 7th Sept.j

Rennell, Caroline, wife of Henry Rennell,
Esq. of the Bank of England, atBoulogne,
aged 36, 5th Sept.

Reynolds, Mrs. Sophia, relict of the late
John Reynolds, Esq. of Pimlico, 1st
Sept.

Richards, Mary, widow of the late Rev.
Edward Richards, at Epsom, 17th Sept.

Robinson, Mary Anne, widow of the late
Matthew A. Robinson, Esq., at Fareham,
13th Sept.

Rohde, Samuel, Esq. at Dover, aged 59, 29th
Aug.

Roskdl, Robert, Esq. of Gatacre, near Li-
verpool, aged 74, llth Sept. Mr. Ros-
kell, a magistrate for the borough of
Liverpool, was eldest son of the late
Nicholas Rcskell, of Garstang, by Jennet
his wife, dau. of John Fox, of Forton.
He married twice, by Elizabeth, his first
wife, dau. of William Tarleton, Esq. he
has lefi two sons, Nicholas and Robert,
and three daughters, the youngest of
whom Catherine, is married to John
Kendal, Esq. of Kensington. By Anne,
his second wife, dau. of John Kaye, Esq.
he had four sons and two daughters.

Ruddach, John Montague, only son of the
late Dr. Ruddach, of Jamaica, at Cal-
cutta, 16th June.

Russell, John Griffith, eldest son of J. F.
Russell, Esq. of South Lambeth, aged
J 1 , 28th Aug.

Ru.ssell, Charlotte, relict of Claude Russell,

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

399

Esq. Bengal Civil Service, at St John's
Wood, 16th Sept.

Saberton, J. S., Esq. at Chatteris, aged 61,
7th Aug.

Saltonstall, Mrs. Mary Susannah, of Little
Hillingdon, Middlesex, aged 76, 27th
Aug.

Sarel, Mrs. Louisa, of Hengar House,
Cornwall, &c. 7th Sept.

Scoles, Matthew, Esq. of Melton Street,
aged 81, 27th Aug.

Scott, William Francis, Esq. senior partner
with firm of Currie and Co., of Cal-
cutta, at Manchester Buildings, West-
minster, aged 45, 9th Sept.

Sharpe, Nanny, widow of John Sharpe,
Esq. F.R.S., at Richmond, 24th Aug.

Shaw, Captain John C. Madras Engineers,
at Bellary, East Indies, aged 36, 28th
June.

Shewell, Julia, dau. of the late Edward
Shewell, Esq. of Lewes, aged 20. 8th
Sept.

Shore, the Rev. William Thomas, at Han-
over, aged 51, 17th Aug.

Sibley, William, of Wellingborough, co.
Northampton, aged 76, 3Jst Aug.

Sissmore, the Rev. Henry, curate of Wy-
mering, near Portsmouth, aged 54, 6th
Sept.

Slocotk, the Rev. Samuel, rector of Shaw,
&c. aged 68, 20th Aug.

Slous, Sophia, wife of Gideon Slous, Esq.
of the Oval Road, Regent's Park, aged
79, 27th Aug.

Smithers, Lucy Anne, wife of John Smi-
thers, Esq. at Camberwell, 1 Oth Sept.

Sperlin, Francis William Theodore, son of
the Rev. Harvey J. Sperlin, rector of
Papworth, St. Agnes, 21st Aug.

Stables, Walter William, Esq. of Crosland
Hall, near Huddersfield, aged 83, 9th
Sept.

Stamp, Mr. Edw. Blanshard, of Brighton,
formerly of Low Elswick, Newcastle-
upon-Tyne, third son of the late Rev.
John Stamp, of Woodhouse-grove, York-
shire, at Hamburgh, aged 43, 9th Sept.

Stanhope, Algernon Russell, eldest son of
Col. the Hon. Leicester Stanhope, aged
9 years and 8 months, lllh Sept. His
remains were interred in the ancestral
vault of his uncle the Earl of Harring-
ton, at Elvaston church, co. Derby.

Stather, Charlotte Anna Seymour, wife of
Captain Stather, Bombay Army, and
only surviving dau. of the late Lt.-Col.
William Ormsby, at Brighton, 3rd Sept.

Stenies, Mr. James, of Brixton, aged 77,
15th Sept.

Sterling, Edward, at Knightsbridge, aged
74, 3rd Sept.

Stevens, Nathaniel, Esq. of Grays Inn, 4th
Sept.

Stevens, Sarah, fourth dau. of the late John

Stevens, Esq. of Lower Caversham,
Oxon, at Kensington. 27th Aug.

Stevens, Harriet, wife of F. Stevens, Esq.
of Camden Town, aged 37, 23d Aug.

Stiles, Sarah Anne, daughter of the late
Carter Stiles, Esq. of Bristol, 19th Sept.

Strange, Mrs. John, of HorntonVillas, Ken-
sington, J bth Sept.

Swanston, Miss, 8th Sept.

Swinburne, Edward, brother of Sir John
Swinburne, Bart, aged 83, 6th Sept.

Taubman, Caroline, wife of Colonel Goldic
Taubrnan, at the Isle of Man, 9th Aug.

Taylor, Emma, wife of Mr. S. Taylor, of
Manor-house, John-Street Road, 20th
September. v

Taylor, Mr. Frederick William, of Oak-
House, Farnborough, co. Kent, aged 74,
5th Sept.

Taylor, Mr. Charles, many years "member
of the Theatre Royal Covent Garden,
16th Sept.

Teague, John, Esq. at Dartmouth, aged 74,
8th Sept.

Turner, Captain T. M. B. of the Bombay
Engineers, youngest son of Dr. Turner,
of Curzon Street, at Bombay, aged 37,
9th July.

Turner, Samuel, Esq. F.R.S. of Derwent
Lodge, near Liverpool,[aged 7],28thAug.

Twisleton, Hon. Mrs. relict of the Hon.
and Rev. Thomas James, D.D., Arch-
deacon of Colombo, and mother of the
Right Hon. Lord Saye and Sele, in Suf-
folk Square,Cheitenham, in the 77th year
of her age, 1 1th Sept.

Underwood, George Pye, youngest son of
Joseph Underwood, Esq. at Black Heath
Park, aged 2|, 29th Aug.

Vaughan, Thomas Nugent, Esq. of Gros-
venor Place, London, a Justice of the
Peace for the county of Longford. Mr.
Nueent Vaughan, eld. son of the late R.
Vaughan, Esq. of the 1st Royal Regt.,
married 14th Dec. 1838, Frances Mary,
Dowager Viscountess Forbes, only child
of the late William Territ, Esq. L.L.D. of
Chilton Hall, Suffolk, and leaves, we
believe, an only daughter ; at 51, Rut-
land Square, Dublin, 14th Sept.

Wakefield, Edward Watson, only child of
Edward Wakefield, Esq. of Grulford, Ire-
land, at London, 26th Aug.

Walker, Mrs. of Brynterion, near Bangor,
aged 63, 23rd Aug.

Ware, Thomas, Sen. Esq. of Kingsland,
aged 72, 9th Sept.

Webber, the Very Rev. James, D.D. Dean
of Rtpon, and Prebendary of Westmin-
ster, 3rd Sept.

Weston, William Roper Esq. Surveyor-
General of Her Majesty's Customs, while
travelling on an official tour, from injuries
received by an accident on the Manches-
ter and Leeds Railway, at Sowerby-

400

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

bridge, Yorkshire, deeply regretted, 16th
Sept.

Whately, Mary, eldest dau. of Henry P.
Whately, Esq. formerly of Hand worth,
co. Stafford, at Tours, in France, 23rd
Aug.

Whitburn, Mr. William Henry, of Esher,
Surrey, at Invernesshire, from extreme
cold and fatigue, aged 35, 1st Sept.

White, Lieut. -Colonel Taylor, formerly of
7th Hussars, at Hadley, aged 76, llth
Sept.

Whitemore, Anna Maria, wife of Thomas
Greenslade Whitemore, Esq. 23rd Aug.

Wilson, Georgiana, second dau. of the late
John Wilson, Esq. at "'Barton under
Needwood, aged 14.

Winckworth, Augusta Sophia, youngest
dau. of the late William Winckworth,
Esq. of Great Marlborough Street, llth
Sept.

Winn, Christopher, Esq. New Crane, Shad-
well, 28th Aug.

Winstanley, Rev. Charles, late of Devon-
port, at Upper Canada, aged 89, 19th
Aug.

Witham, George, Esq. late Capt. 68th Regt.
at Lartington Hall, co. York, 8th Sept.
This lamented gentleman, a Magistrate
and Deputy-Lieutenant for the counties
of York and Durham, and formerly Capt.
in the 68th Light Infantry, was son of
the late Henry Silverton, Esq. who as-
sumed the surname of Witham, in conse-
quence of his marriage with Eliza, niece
and heiress of William Witham, Esq. of
Cliffe ; and was thus descended from one
of the oldest families in the North of
England, originally settled in Lincoln-
shire, and named from the River Witham,
in that county. Capt. Witham has died
unmarried, leaving one surviving brother,
the Rev. Thomas Edward Witham, a

priest of the Church of Rome ; and-three
sisters, Catherine, wife of Henry Eagle-
field; Emma-Seraphina, of Wm. Dunn,
Esq. ; and Winifred, of Gerard Salvin,
Esq. of Croxdale.

Wood, Miss flarriett, late of Bath, aged 64,
18th Aug.

Wood, Georgiana Elizabeth, wife of the
Rev. Thomas Wood, M.A. at Calcutta,
7th July.

Wootten, John, Esq. M.D. of Baliol Col-
lege, and one of the Physicians of the
Radcliff« Infirmary, at Oxford, aged 48,
26th Aug.

Workman, Lieut.-Col. Samuel Payne, late
of the 35th Regt. aged 61, 14th Sept.

Wortley,Anne, wife of James Wortley.Esq.
of Cannonbury Place, Islington, 6th Sept.

Wrench, Lucy Madaline, eldest child of
the Rev. Harry Ovenden Wrench, of
Overton, co. Flint, 26th Aug.

Wright, Silas, senator of the United States,
died suddenly at his residence, in St.
Lawrence County, a short time since,
aged 62. He had filled various public
offices, and was, fora period, Governor
of the State of New York. He was no
ordinary man, and exercised a control-
ing influence with the Democratic party,
whose candidate he would have been at
the next election for the Presidency of
the United States. His death, at this
moment, is, therefore, an important
event ; and may, in its consequences,
affect the future policy, foreign and do-
mestic, of America. It will be found no
easy matter for the dominant party to fill
the void, the death of Silas Wright has
created. In another point of view, he is
a national loss. He favoured the Wilmot
Proviso, and, had he lived, would, doubt-
less, have contributed to the settlement
of the Slavery question,
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THE PATRICIAN.

THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND.

, co.

" So sweet a spot of earth, you might (I ween)
Have guessed some congregation of the elves,
To sport by summer moons, had shaped it for themselves."

" Vix ea nostra voco," has been applied to hereditary honours with
more pertinacity than reason ; and were men machines, and life regulated
like a timepiece, the application might bear some degree of justness ; but
when matters of fact and action intervene, we are sure to encounter some-
thing that sets our theory at nought, and laughs at the dreamings of our
philosophy. In truth, we are of the time present, not of the time past ;
yet how fondly do we cling to the recollections and traditions of former
ages — the more remote and the more obscure, the more profound is our
reverence, and the more intense our worship. The old castellated mansion
has a halo around it which may be sought for in vain in the stateliest of
modern halls : this, we regard with admiration and indifference — it talks
but of wealth, listlessness, and luxury : we have nothing ideally or really
to do with it ; but that, with its iron-grey gables, its ivied towers, its quaint
architecture, and its associations, which all these engender, seems to be
our own almost as much as it does its true possessor's.

These observations are suggested by the subject before us — the, venerable
mansion of Knebworth, in feudal times the stronghold of knights and
warriors, renowned in chivalry and arms : in our own more peaceful days,
the inheritance and abode of a man of letters, as celebrated for mental,* as
his illustrious ancestors were for physical, prowess. Knebworth was among
the manors granted to Eudo Dapifer at the Conquest, and at various times
became the property of several illustrious owners, of whom we may men-
tion Thomas Mowbray Plantagenet, Sir Walter Manny, the Duchess of
Norfolk, and John Hotolf, Treasurer to Henry VI. In the reign of Henry
the Seventh, it passed, by purchase, into the hands of Sir Robert Lytton
(of Lytton in the Peak), a Knight of the Bath, and one of the monarch's,
privy councillors. The good Knight, who was also the keeper of the great
wardrobe, and under treasurer, had no sooner entered into possession of his
fort, for it was no better, than he set about enlarging it ; and what he Lad
thus begun, but left unfinished, was continued by his successor, William De

VOL. ]V., NO. XIX. G G

402 KNEBWORTH.

Lytton, governor of Boulogne Castle. Such, however, was the slow and
steady pace of building in those days, that he also left the work unfinished ;
nor was it completed till the reign of Elizabeth, when a finishing hand was
put to it by Sir Rowland De Lytton, a man who, by the many offices he
held, could scarcely have been of less distinction than any of his predeces-
sors. It is now that this castellated mansion begins to possess an historical
interest. The wife of Sir Rowland (Anne, dau. of Oliver Lord St. John,
of Bletsoe, and great-granddaughter of Margaret Beauchamp) was not very
remotely connected with the queen ; and hence perhaps it was that we often
find Elizabeth a visitant at the Castle. The room in which she slept has
been with great good taste preserved to the present day, with little or no-
alteration, and is still known by the name of Queen Elizabeth's chamber.

The house was built in a quadrangular form, the east front or gateway
being of a very early date ; in fact, it was a portion of the ancient fort.
Till of late years the mansion had been little inhabited, and had fallen into
so ruinous a state, that when, in 1811, the mother of the present Sir Ed-
ward Bulwer Lytton came into possession of it, she found it necessary to
remove three sides. The remaining portion, however, contains the prin-
cipal rooms, and is the part which was built by Sir Robert De Lytton in the
reign of the seventh Henry. In effecting the necessary renovations, care
was taken to interfere as little as possible with the character of the ancient
building ; hence all that remains has much the same appearance that it
ever had, being a castellated mansion, though without strong works, and
exhibiting a pure specimen of the Tudor style of architecture. Some re-
mains of the moat are still to be seen on the west side, and portions even
of the old foundations of outer walls may yet be traced by the curious in
such matters.

If we again look back upon the earlier history of Knebworth, we shall
find that it had other, and no less celebrated visitors than Elizabeth herself.
In the reign of Charles the First, there was a Sir William Lytton, who sat
in Parliament for the county, and was an intimate friend of Pym, Elliot,
and Hampden. In a letter still in the family possession, he mentions the
meeting of that party in his house to concert their parliamentary measures ;
and the room to all appearance still remains, adjoining the great hall.
This same Sir William was one of the commissioners appointed to treat
with Charles at Oxford ; but at a later period he opposed Cromwell, and
was among the members confined in the place popularly called Hell-hole.
To commemorate this event, an old subterranean chamber in one of the
towers, now removed, received the same name.

The principal rooms in the house as it now stands, are — 1st, the great
banquetting hall, of which the ceiling belongs to the time of Henry the
Eighth, the screen is Elizabethan, and the chimney-piece, with the pan-
neling, appear to date from Charles the Second, when Inigo Jones had
made the Corinthian column fashionable. One door leads out of it into
the room now called the oak drawing-room, the same that we have just
mentioned as having been the chamber where the great parliamentary
leaders met to hold council ; a second door, which has long since been
closed up, communicates with a vast cellar, this being a rare remain of a
singular ancient custom. In the olden time, it was usual for the gentle-
men after dinner to retreat, for the purpose of drinking, to a cellar adjoin-
ing the great hall, which, with that view, was always kept in the utmost
order, and this vault is the more curious, from the fact that there are few

RNEBWORTH. 403

houses now remaining with similar constructions. The oak room opens
upon a large Gothic library, the chimney-piece of which is ornamented
with the arms of the Lyttons, St. Johns, Beauchamps, Robinsons, Stan-
leys of Hooton, and Grosvenors. A double flight of stairs leads to the
state-rooms, the carved balustrades of which support the lion rampant,
one of the ancient crests brought in by the alliance with the Strodes.
The staircase itself is hung with trophies, of armour of the time of
Henry VII. and Henry VIII., as well as various family and other
pictures. The windows are blazoned with the descents from the alliance
with Barrington and the alliance of the St. Johns.

The first state room is very ancient ; it is small, and the walls are covered
with curious old stamped leather, richly gilt, and in high preservation,
while the woodwork is grotesquely carved in pannels, and upon the ceiling
the arms are painted of Sir Rowland Lytton, as heir general to the fami-
lies of Booth, Godmanster, Oke, Burnavil, and Drereward.

From this is a communication with the long state room, which is hung
with bugle tapestry, perhaps the only specimen to be found in England.
You next pass through the oval drawing-room into the old presence cham-
ber, which modern fashions have metamorphosed into a principal drawing-
room. Upon the ceiling and windows of this apartment are introduced
ninety-nine quarterings, which were brought in through the ancient families
of Norreys and Robinson in the time of Anne, and the frieze below shews
the arms of the descents from the ancient British kings, through Sir
Owen Tudor and Elystan Glodrydd, the Plantagenets through Ruth
Barrington, and the Tudors through Sir William Norrey's marriage with
Anne Tudor, aunt to Henry VII. Many relics of the olden time are
preserved here, giving to the room a marked air of antiquity ; amongst
other precious remains, are two Gothic cabinets of the time of Henry
VII., sets of chairs of the old cloth of gold, a very curious carved and
gilt procession of our Saviour to the cross, the workmanship of the four-
teenth century, and some ebony tables, in their original state, of the
time of Elizabeth. Other curiosities are also preserved in tbis room, of
a very different character : such, for instance, as a chair of solid ivory and
gold, that once belonged to the redoubted Tippoo Saib. But the anti-
quary will, perhaps, dwell with more real satisfaction upon the rare old
pictures, the memorials of men who form a portion of our national his-
tory. There, in the midst of his kindred companions, is the portrait of Sir
Philip Sidney, his own gift to Sir Rowland Lytton — the vera effigies of
Edward VI., which acquires a double value when we are told that the
royal hand presented it to William De Lytton, his Governor of Boulogne
Castle — the likenesses of Lord Strafford and his wife — and many other
genuine old portraits, preserved as heir-looms in the family. But the
portraits do not form the sole pictorial ornaments of this chamber; there
are a few paintings of another class, valuable as works of art, from which
we may be allowed to select an exquisite Magdalene by Galleyo, a
Spanish painter, — a beautiful Nativity, by Albert Durer, — several Dutch
pictures, and some very valuable specimens on wood, of the earliest period
of Dutch, and perhaps of English, art. It must not, however, be ima-
gined that the treasures of antiquity are confined to this one spot. In
other parts of the mansion are collections of armour, ranging in date
from the time of the Crusades to the period of the Civil War, some of the
best and most perfect specimens being those in the banquetting hall ; they

6 G 2

404 KKEBWOBTH.

date variously from the reigns of Henry VII., Henry VIII., and
James I.

Another flight of stairs conducts to the music gallery over the hall, which
communicates with the round tower chamber, fitted up with gold and stamped
leather, after the fashion prevailing in the age of Charles the Second. In
this is the portrait of Viscountess Falkland, daughter of a Sir Robert Lyt-
ton, and it communicates with the Falkland chamber, containing portraits
of the same date, as well as with a corridor that opens into the Hampden
room, where the illustrious John Hampden once slept, if we are to believe
the family tradition. The same passage leads to Queen Elizabeth's room,
wherein is a very curious old oak bedstead, the only thing probably of
the kind in England, if we except one in Berkeley Castle. The an-
cient tapestry, which at one time had been removed from the walls, has
latterly been replaced, and the same good taste has also brought back the
old chimney-piece, a very curious sample of the workmanship of other
days. It bears the following inscription : —

" Hie anno devictis armis Hispan : memorabili requievit Elizabetha,
R.A. 1588."

Adjoining this is the room that was occupied by the mother of the pre-
sent Sir Edward. It contains many of her drawings and paintings, for it
appears that she inherited her full portion of the family taste, and was an
accomplished artist. Here also is a cabinet with many curiosities and
antiquities, the collected heir-looms of different periods. Altogether this
is a noble apartment to those who take a delight in the solemn splendour
of our ancestors — a splendour so grave and massive that we have often felt
tempted to doubt if they ever laughed outright, like their more light-
hearted or more frivolous descendants. There is something in an ancient
hall that seems to forbid a jest, as altogether out of place ; one would as
soon think of dancing the Polka in a cathedral cloister. And here, amidst
the grave ornaments, the panels of white and gold, the dark painted
ceiling, one would feel more inclined to pore over some ancient tome of
severe philosophy, than to read the last new novel. Nor is this serious
tendency at all lessened by the following beautiful inscription over the
chimney-piece : — " This room, for many years occupied by Elizabeth
Bulwer Ly tton, and containing the relics most associated with her memory,
her son trusts that her descendants will preserve unaltered. LIBERIS
VIRTUTIS EXEMPLAR ! " There are few who will not heartily respond to
the spirit of this inscription, when they reflect how much this fine estate
has been indebted for its preservation to her taste, energy, and talent.
She it was who redeemed it from a century of neglect, and with unwearied
patience and assiduity saved the mansion from the total ruin that must
otherwise have ere long fallen upon it. That she removed what was too
decayed for preservation, and repaired and fitted up in the most appro-
priate style whatever remained, we have already seen ; but her improve-
ment did not stop here. Out of the old gateway that had of necessity
been removed, she formed a curious and picturesque lodge to the en-
trance from the London road, and erected a very elegant stone mauso-
leum in the park. The church itself is of ancient date, and is dedicated
to St. Mary, containing a private chapel belonging to the Lyttons, in
which are some beautiful monuments, and three of the oldest and rarest
helmets in England, surmounted with a Lytton crest, — " a bittern among
reeds."

HOLWOOD. 405

But in this, as well as so many other respects, Mrs. Elizabeth Bulwer
Lytton would appear to have been a woman of no ordinary mind, com-
bining in herself qualities that are seldom found united in the same per-
son. She had the talents of a writer both in prose and verse, painted
more like an artist than an amateur, and yet was a thorough woman of
business, who transacted all her affairs for herself, with less need of an
agent than many men. Nor was she at all deficient in the gentle spirit
of charity ; for, though saving in herself, she was munificent to others,
and all the time, her generosity was pure and free from ostentation.
This noble and kind-hearted woman died December 19, 1843, preserving
her activity, both of mind and body, to the last. Requiescatin pace!

The park belonging to the mansion is not large, but it contains some
of the best deer of the county, and is celebrated for the view from the
east. It stands on very high ground, broken by dells, and has several
avenues of the reign of Elizabeth ; and if this do not afford sufficient
amusement to the owners, they have a right of free warren over the whole
of the surrounding districts, granted to them in the time of James I.

It may be easily supposed that so noble a remnant of the olden days is
not without its traditions. In the beginning of the present century, a very
interesting little book was published, called *' Jenny Spinner, or the Hert-
fordshire Ghost," the scene of which was laid at Knebworth, and the plot
founded upon a popular story of a spinning phantom that haunted the
old mansion. It is not above thirty or forty years ago that the very
spinning-wheel was still extant which served the ghost in her nightly
occupations, though it has since that time been destroyed, and likely
enough by some one who sagaciously thought to put an end to the phan-
tom's visits, by destroying the cause of them.

Other traditions there are that haunt the old mansion, and though not
impossible, nor even very improbable, yet perhaps not a whit more real
than this of the spinning phantom. Thus it has been said that the unfor-
tunate Earl of Warwick, beheaded by Henry VII., was at one time con-
fined at Knebworth under the care of Sir Robert De Lytton ; but history
makes no mention of such a fact, nor does a place so beautiful in itself,
and allied with so many high and noble recollections, stand in need of
any spurious fancies to enhance its interest with those who love the
memory of their forefathers.

_ Y, <W4.

fcolfooott, co. Itent.

" Oh, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,

When the brave on Marengo lay slaughter'd in vain,
And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,

PITT clos'd in his anguish the map of her reign !
Not the fate of broad Europe could bend his brave spirit

To take for his country the safety of shame ;
Oh, then in her triumph remember his merit,

And hallow the goblet that flows to his name."

THERE is a charm attached to the abode of greatness, whether living
or departed, that never can belong to the most splendid structures if un-
hallowed by such recollections. The noblest specimens of architecture
excite at best a cold unsympathizing admiration if considered only as
such ; they are like Pygmalion's statue ere it was animated by a living

400 HOLWOOD.

soul — rnere stone — finely shaped indeed, yet still nothing but a chiseled
and dextrous production of the human hand : but once let us be able to
say, " This was the home of Shakspere, or of Milton, or of Newton, and
even the rudest pile assumes a something sacred to our imagination. If
the reader should say with Horatio, " This were to consider too curiously,"
we must borrow our reply from Hamlet : " Not a whit." Even the
American, who may be said to live in a world of yesterday, who has no
antiquity whether historical or otherwise, is yet found to be touched by
this feeling ; and when he visits England, sympathizes as warmly with
the relics of other times as the most enthusiastic among ourselves.
Analyze and philosophize as we will, there is a charm in these matters,
which is not the less real because it does not square with the maxims of
the logician.

We have been involuntarily led into these remarks — and we would fain
hope not too discursive remarks — by the mansion of Holwood, near
Bromley, in Kent, the seat of John Ward, Esq., about fourteen miles
from London, in the parish of Keston. How many recollections cleave
to the site of the old building that has disappeared, and which still
fling their glorious shadow — light, rather — upon the beautiful structure
which has succeeded it ! While admiring the modern building for its archi-
tectural elegance, the spectator is yet more attracted by the idea that on this
very spot stood the favourite residence of William Pitt, the civil competi-
tor of the warlike Napoleon, and whose plans, though long after his death,
were destined to be the overthrow of his soldier rival. Never was Cicero's
saying of " Cedunt arma togae " more realized to the letter, though in a
different meaning from what was originally intended.

At present Pitt is only a name to us ; — but what a name ! In regard
to this extraordinary man, there can be but two opinions — a presiding
genius, or a devil : he has either saved or he has ruined England, the
greatest country of ancient or of modern times. For our own part, we
heartily coincide with the opinion of the best and wisest, who think that
England would have sunk under the tremendous energies called forth by
the French revolution, except for the genius and the indomitable spirit of
William Pitt ; and whether we are right or wrong in this idea, it is quite
plain, and more to our present purpose, that the history of Europe, if not
of the world, must for many, many years to come turn upon him and
Napoleon Buonaparte. The counsels and the actions of either have left
a legacy for after times — a riddle, which the wisdom and the experience
of our far-off posterity must solve.

The present mansion occupies the place of the old house, which was
pulled down in 1823. The latter was a small old plastered brick build-
ing, but had long been tenanted by various gentlemen who delighted in
fox-hunting, at the time the Duke of Grafton kept a pack of hounds in
this neighbourhood. It afterwards came into the hands of the late Mr.
Calcraft, and served as a house of rendezvous for the heads of one of the
parties which at that time divided the House of Commons. From Mr.
Calcraft it passed into the possession of the Burrell family ; by them
it was sold to Captain Ross ; and purchased of him by Mr. Burrow,
nephew of the late Sir James Burrow, who stuccoed the house, added
greatly to the grounds by various purchases, grubbed and converted con-
siderable woods into beautiful pasture and pieces of water, and planted
those ornamental shrubberies which rendered it so justly admired. An

HOLWOOD. 407

eminent ship-builder, named Randall, purchased it of Mr, Burrow, and
he afterwards disposed of it to the Right Hon. William Pitt, who was a
native of the adjoining parish, and under whose own personal superin-
tendence most of the ornamental plantations were made, which rendered
the park so justly admired. As to the interior, the house underwent no
other alteration than the addition of a small drawing-room covered with
pantiles, and facing the whole with a curious new-invented variegated
stucco, Mr. Decimus Burton has preserved a sketch of this old house,
such as it was when taken down to make room for the new mansion ; and
which, as connected with the history of this great statesman, may here-
after prove an object of interest,

The history and structure of the modern building may be thus described :
It was erected in the year 1825, by the present proprietor, from the de-
signs and under the superintendence of Decimus Burton, Esq., architect.
The exterior presents an uniform architectural elevation in the Grecian
style ; the walls faced with the light-coloured bricks from Southampton ;
the columns, pilasters, entablatures, window-dressings, and the plinth, of
solid Portland stone.

The south front extends 180 feet in length, and has a circular portico
of four columns of the Grecian Ionic order, the height of the building ;
in the wings are Doric columns in recesses. The principal apartments
are in this front, and consist of the dining-room, saloon, library, drawing-
room, billiard-room, and conservatory, en suite. The kitchen offices also
occupy part of the south front, but so concealed under the same eleva-
tion as to avoid the incongruity sometimes observed, where, either from
injudiciousness, or with the idea of economy, the domestic offices are seen
attached to the mansion in a character of architecture totally different. A
handsome conservatory, principally constructed of Portland stone and
iron, and 40 by 17 feet wide, forms the termination of the western wing.

The north, or entrance front, is of the same extent, but of a plainer
character than the south front, with a recessed portico of two Doric
columns. The interior presents several well-contrived vistas through the
suites of apartments. The saloon, which has an extremely pleasing ap-
pearance, occupies the centre of the house, and extends two stories in
height, surmounted by a large lantern light, and supported by columns.

Although the rooms are not large, yet it may be truly said that Hoi-
wood is one of the most ornamental, convenient, and substantial mansions
in the county of Kent. The scenery around is very beautiful, varied,
and extensive, owing to the elevation of its site, the broken and undu-
lating surface of the ground in the immediate vicinity, and other local
advantages. The present proprietor has likewise been at great expense
in embellishing the park and pleasure grounds, and has entirely enclosed
the former with a strong oak fence, extending about four miles in circum-
ference ; he has also built two ornamental rustic lodges, rebuilt the
farmery, and put all the premises in perfect condition.

But the ground itself has yet older recollections than any that belong
even to the former building. It is supposed to have given a name to the
parish of Keston, of which it forms a part, from the camp commonly
called Julius Caesar's camp at Holwood Hill. The remains of this forti-
fication are of an oblong form, commanding an extensive view on every
side. It consisted of a circular double, and in some places treble,
entrenchment, enclosing about twenty acres of land ; into which theie

HOLWOOD.

appeared to have been no original entrance but by the opening to the
north-west, which descends to the spring called Caesar's spring. Some
have imagined this was the camp Julius Caesar made when the Britons
gave him the last battle ; others have supposed this to have been the
remains of the first Roman station from London towards Dover. A
third conjecture is, that it was the place where Aulus Plautius the prsetor,
after his fourth action with the Britons, encamped with his forces, whilst
he awaited the arrival of the emperor Claudius. But however anti-
quaries may differ as to the person by whom this celebrated camp was
formed, they all concur in stating it to have been originally a strong and
considerable Roman station, though not of the larger sort ; but rather
from its commanding situation and short distance from the Thames, a
camp of observation, or castra oestiva. To Mr. Kempe, who carefully
investigated the antiquities of Hoi wood Hill, and favoured the public
with the result of his labours, through the medium of the Military
Register, in 1814, we are indebted for the few following remarks : —

" Caesar's camp is situated on that side of Holwood Hill which forms a
sort of inclined plane in a northerly direction ; and the site commands a
fine view into the Counties of Kent, Surry, Middlesex, and Essex. It
was about a mile in circumference ; and partook in some degree of the
ordinary plan of Roman encampments, oblong, with rounded corners.
The whole extent of the remains measured along the interior vallum is
about eight hundred paces. The western side is double-ditched ; on the
northern only one foss is discernable. The inner trench is about fifty-
four fe«t in width, the outer forty-two ; the depth of the inner trench
may be about thirty feet, that of the outer considerably less. The camp
has two entrances; one to the north, the other to the "west. It appears
probable that the former was not original, but may have broken through
in later days, to form the high road which formerly passed through the
centre of the camp. The western aperture conducted the garrison down
to the source of the river Ravensbourn. South of the spring there
xuns out for six or seven hundred yards, in a westerly direction from the
camp, an elevated ridge, ditched on the southern side. This ridge might
have been a sort of military way, or perhaps was intended as an out-
work for the protection of the watering place."

Mr. Kempe, in conclusion, suggests the idea that what is generally
known by the name of Keston Camp, was primarily a British town,
and the following extract from Caesar's Commentaries tends in a great
measure to confirm his opinion : —

*' Oppidtim autem Britanni vocant quum sylvas impeditas vallo atque fossft
munierunt, quo incursionis hostium vitandae causa convenire consueverunt. E6
proficiscitur cum legionibus loeum reperit egregie natura atque opere munitum.
Tamen hunc duabus ex partibus oppugnare contendit. Hostes paulisper morati
militum nostrorum impetum non tulerunt,, seseque ex alia parte oppidi ejecerunt.
Magnus ibi numerus pecoris repertus." — Casar, lib. v. cap. 7.

It may be that the fortifications were originally British, and that the
Romans upon their arrival, finding the situation commodious, occupied
it as a permanent station. The outlines do not conform to the known
character of Roman castrametation, yet there can be no doubt of its
having been one of their strongholds. A variety of articles have, from
time to time, been dug up, which, although of great antiquity, do not
afford any precise date of Roman occupation.

APPLETON-UPON-WISKE. 409

In the rear of Holwood the proprietor has formed a vineyard, which,
if conducted with the judgment and circumspection that mark the com-
mencement, may prove that the climate of England is suited to the open
culture of the grape. Ten sorts of vines, five black and five white, from
different parts of the Rhine and Burgundy, have been imported. They
are planted on a slope towards the S.S.E. Difficulties and partial
failures are to be expected on the outset of the experiment, and are to be
overcome, in its progress, by enlarged experience and information res-
pecting the treatment of the plants in foreign countries. That the vine
flourished here several centuries ago can be proved historically. There
is likewise evidence of it in the old names of places still existing. For
instance, in London there is " Vineyard Gardens," Clerk en well ; and in
Kent, there is a field near Rochester Cathedral, which has been imme-
morially called " The Vines." Many examples of this nature might be
adduced. But far stronger than presumptive testimony is the fact, that,
in some parts of the weald of Kent, the vine grows wild in the hedges.

ee, to.

" Where Hamilton's far hills do westward rise,
A sylvan country, sweet, contiguous lies,
Those people came from fertile Cleveland's plain,
Some from Tees' banks, and Yarm so near the main."

THE manor of Appleton-upon-Wiske, in Cleveland, in the North Riding
of the county of York, at the time of the general survey, was in the
hands of the Conqueror ; in " Doomesday-book " we find it thus men-
tioned : —

" Terra Regis.

Manerium in Apeltune. Orme VI. Carucatas ad
Geldum. Terra ad III. Car. XX. Solidos."
aqDoaiifc

It was afterwards granted by the Conqueror to Robert de Brus, Lord of
Skelton, who gave the same to the famous Abbey of St. Mary's at York,
founded by Stephen, Abbot of Whitby, about the year 1080. It continued
part of the possessions of that rich monastery (whose annual revenues at
the time of the dissolution were computed at £2085 Is. 5fd. — an immense
sum in those days) to the time of the general dissolution, when it was
granted by King Henry VIII. to Charles Brandon, afterwards Duke of
Suffolk. Male issue failing in this family, the manor was granted by
King Edward VI., in 1551, to Charles Vincent, Esq. After divers alien-
ations, Appleton-upon-Wiske came into the possession of the Ferrands,
and was subsequently purchased by the Allans, of Blackwell Grange, in
the county of Durham; " a family," says Ord, in his History of Cleveland,
" illustrious not only in antiquity and honourable descent, but also in
science, literature, and the achievements of the intellect ; without which
the glittering coronet is but an empty bauble, and the pomp of heraldry a
ridiculous burlesque." It passed to James Allan, of Blackwell Grange,
Esq., and descended to his son George Allan, Esq., F.S.A., the eminent
antiquary, genealogist, and local historian, and then to his son George Allan,
Esq., M.A., F.S.A., M.P., who died in 1898. Robert Henry Allan, of
Blackwell Hall, Esq., F.S.A., a Justice of the Peace for the county of

410 FOEGLElf HOUSE, BANFF.

Durham, and North Riding of the county of York, is the present pro-
prietor and Lord of the Manor. It is a somewhat remarkable coin-
cidence, that this gentleman should be directly descended from William
the Conqueror as well as Robert de Brus, the ancient lords of Appleton-
upon-Wiske. — See " Burke 's Royal Families, with their Descendants,"
Pedigree Ixvii.

Appleton-upon-Wiske is famous as the reputed birth-place of Thomas
Rhymer, the celebrated author of " Fcedera," who was educated at the
grammar-school of the neighbouring town of Northallerton. He was
afterwards admitted a scholar of Cambridge, then became a member of
Gray's Inn, and was appointed historiographer to King William. To the
severer studies of history was added an intimate acquaintance with the
arts of polite literature, including poetic composition, which he exhibited in
his " View of the Tragedies of the Last Age," and the production of a
Tragedy founded on the history of King Edgar. His " Foadera " — a
collection of all the public transactions, treaties, &c., with the Kings of
England and foreign Princes — is esteemed one of the most laborious,
authentic, and valuable of records, and is frequently referred to by the
best English writers. This illustrious historian died in 1713. Two
persons of the name of Rhymer still reside at Appleton-upon-Wiske,
probably descendants of the same family — viz., John Rhymer, school-
master ; and William Rhymer, innkeeper. One Thomas Rhymer, another
schoolmaster, also resides at the neighbouring village of Crathorne.

THE SEAT OF SIR ROBERT ABERCROMBY, BART.

k" I envy them, those monks of old —

Their books they read, their beads they told,
To human passions dead and cold,

And all life's vanity.
They dwelt like shadows on the earth,
Free from the penalties of birth,
Nor let one feeling venture forth,

Save charity." JAMES.

AMONG the many changes which are occurring in the world around us,
we have to notice the very great estimation in which the monks of old are
held now, in comparison to the opinions that prevailed upon the subject of
religious orders some few years back ; and, as we mean to strengthen our
assertion, we quote the following : —

" Monastic orders were beyond all price in those days of misrule and turbu-
lence, when (it may be imperfectly, yet better than elsewhere) God was
worshipped — as a quiet and religious refuge for helpless infancy and old age —
a shelter of respectful sympathy for the orphan maiden and the desolate widow
— as central points whence agriculture was to spread over bleak hills and barren
downs and marshy plains, and deal its bread to millions perishing of hunger and
its pestilential train — as repositories of the learning which then was, and well-
springs of the learning which was to be — as nurseries of art and science, giving
the stimulus and the means, and the reward to invention, and aggregating around
them every head that could devise, and every hand that could execute."

FOBGLEN HOUSE, BANFF. 411

Thus speaks a voice from the library of his Grace the Archbishop of
Canterbury, Primate of the Church of England ; and this is the conclu-
sion arrived at by the Keeper of the MSS. at Lambeth.

This just tribute to the teachers of religion and learning in England, is
from the pefc of the Rev. S. R. Maitland, F.R.S. and F.S.A., Librarian
to the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Convents were usually placed in picturesque situations, often retired
from the prying eyes of the worldly. They stood environed by woods
or mountains, and commonly had, in Byron's words —

" A hill behind
To shelter their devotions from the wind."

Here the brethren dwelt in prayer and peace, surrounded by a happy
and contented tenantry, and poured forth their store with bounteous hand
to prince or peasant seeking them in need. Whether he came begirt by
retainers, or making his lonely round, the wayfarer was sure of a welcome
and refreshment. But you will say, what reference has this to Forglen
House, the seat of Sir Robert Abercromby ? Much, dear reader ! for
where now that splendid specimen of Tudor architecture stands, up-
rearing its turrets into the azure air, an ancient dwelling stood, and,
with the lands of Forglen, belonged to the Monks of Aberbortwick.

The house is a truly magnificent building, in the form of a hollow
square, with a tower eighty six feet high rising from the centre. It is more
than 150 feet in frontage, but not above 120 in depth. The accommodation,
however, must be very great, from the size of the mansion. The situa-
tion is exceedingly well cho'sen. Ascending from the river Doveron rises
a lawn adorned with clumps of noble trees, and, on the ascent, stands
Forglen House. The name is said to be derived from Forglen, signifying
the hollow valley ; and, if this be true, the appellation is very suitable.
It appears likewise that Forber meant church lands, which probably might
be used to denote the proprietors. North and west is a range of highlands,
clothed in wood, adding much to the beauty of the scene ; and the lover
of nature and art combined has a rich treat in visiting this domain. In
the house is the gigantic head and antlers of one of the ancient Irish
elks found in a bog under Cain Thurna Mountain, -near Fermoy, Sir
Robert's town in Ireland. These magnificent remains of a lost tribe of
deer measure —

Feet. Inches.

From point to point of horns 8 Ij

Breadth across the flat of horn ... 2 8
Height from mouth to top of horn 5 4

As it was long considered to be an argument against Ireland being
thickly wooded that these giant antlers were extant, which would have
prevented the animal from making way through any wood, I happened to
mention the subject on a late visit to the Royal Dublin Society house,
and there learned that Providence provided for this very difficulty ; for that
muscles were placed near the root of each antler, by which the elk could
project one and throw back the other, so as to form nearly a horizontal
line, and thus get through any place the head could make way in. There
are many fine oil-paintings adorning the sitting rooms.

The present dwelling was built by Sir Robert not many years ago, and
occupies the site of a very ancient edifice erected about the middle of the

412 FORGLEN HOUSE, BANFF.

fourteenth century, and, as a stone over the doorway informs us, added to
A. D. 1 575-7. Several stones, rudely carved with moral maxims, some-
what in the style we observe now-a-days on Swiss cottages in the German
cantons, have found preservation, being built into the walls of the present
house. This place, and all the lands adjoining, were grantefrl in the years
1 178 and 1211, by William the Lion to the Monks of Abyrbrothoc, on the
terms of their keeping and bearing the sacred standard, or breacbannoch, in
the king's army.* Stalwart men I ween were the monks of Abyrbrothoc
to have such an honour conferred on them, and not inconsistent with the
tonsured head was the steel morion. Churchmen lost nothing of their
martial prowess in those days by their vows of religion, and in matters of
civil, if not religious, controversy, shewed themselves

" Fire-eyed disputants, who believed their swords
On points of faith more eloquent than words."

The Know, a stout soldier-bishop, moved in the thick of the fight at
Brannockburn ; and, in Lord Campbell's entertaining " Lives of the Lord
Chancellors of England," he mentions many a reverend chancellor, and
grave lord keeper, who " led the brawls," and set lance in rest and sword
in hand during the wars of the Roses. Even in our times a military
ardour seems not inconsistent with the clerical habit, and it would cause
no great surprise if the public prints announced that his holiness,
Pius IX., appeared before Ferrara at the head of his legions, commanded
by cardinals for generals, and other ranks of the hierarchy in relative
positions throughout the army.

The estate of Forglen, and the honours thereunto appertaining, appear
to have remained with the monks until the reign of Henry VIII. caused
such a revulsion in monastic institutions. It seems, however, they were
in the habit of granting these lands of Forglen in tenure with the condi-
tions annexed, on which they held themselves, as appears by the following :
" Instrumentum super homagio Alexandri Irwyn pro terris de Forglene, et
quod tenentis Regalitatis cum dicto Alexandro ad exercitum Domini Regis,
sub le Brebannoch meabunt et equitabunt." These grants were renewed
from time to time, and in testimony of this royal distinction, the arms of
Scotland were placed over the doorway of the mansion, above the heraldic
honours of the family*

From the monks and their tenants, the broad lands and hills, with their
woods and waters, passed into the hands of the Ogilvies of Banff, and, on
the death of William, eighth lord of Banff, the property descended to Lady
Abercromby, of Birkenbog, mother of Sir Robert. The present baronet is
chief of his clan, which dignity, previous to the seventeenth century, be-
longed to another branch of this ancient family, who derived the name from
a territory in Fifeshire, upon the extinction of which the chieftaincy came
to the branch of Birkenbog. Sir Alexander Abercromby, the first baronet,
created in 1637, took a very active part against the Stuart claims, and
was so devoted an adherent to the Kirk against Prelacy, that he was styled
"a main Covenanter." He took the field, and fought so stoutly against
the Royalists at the battle of Auldearn, that Montrose vowed vengeance
against him, and never rested until he quartered his army at Birkenbog.

* View of the Diocese of Aberdeen, printed from the MSS. in the Advocate's
Library, Edinburgh, and presented by the Earl of Aberdeen to the Spaldiug Club.

LISNEGAR. 413

The present amiable and worthy chief is the fifth baronet ; and, besides his
estates in Scotland, has recently become the purchaser of a valuable property
in Ireland. His town of Fermoy is one of the handsomest inland towns in
that kingdom, and has every opportunity for commerce and manufactories,
if the inhabitants had the spirit and enterprise to turn to account the
valuable gifts nature has placed 4within their reach. The noble river
that flows idly through their many-arched bridge, might readily be made
a channel for export and import trade. I am surprised that the intelligent
proprietor does not endeavour to stir his tenants into useful activity.

THE SEAT OP LOED BtVEESDALE.

" See how the day beameth brightly before us f

Blue is the firmament, green is the earth ;
Grief hath no voice in the universe -chorus —

Nature is ringing with music and mirth.
Lift up the looks that are sinking in sadness —

Gaze, and if beauty can capture thy soul,
Virtue herself will allure thee to gladness —

Gladness, philosophy's guerdon and goal."

.'. •'/-,,, ';'\,:l ; £•.»**/**».!« Sit' 4.XJ fcUJ i

A FEW days ago I visited Lisnegar, the mansion of Lord Riversdale.
Although the summer has passed, and the autumn is verging on the de-
cline, and the leaves are fast dropping in sere and yellow heaps, the
scenery and dwelling looked truly enchanting. A more striking contrast
to the Castle in my former paper than this mansion can hardly be con-
ceived. They are every way different — in state, and purpose, and
appearance. The one calling up visions of days and years when the
earth was filled with war, and there was required a site where the eagle
would seek a place for his nest whereon to build the fierce knight's
dwelling — and moat and barbican, portcullis and loop-hooled wall, con-
tributed to render that dwelling secure from assault. That time is gone
by — but its vestige remains in the strong-built castle. Here, on the
other hand, upon the verdant turf stands the beautiful and graceful man-
sion, denoting how days of peace and security have come. • No walls
surround it — no flanking towers protect the portal — there is no need.
Lisnegar is a house for enjoying life peaceably and tranquilly, not a for-
tress to keep in defiance of the foeman ; and though so different in date
and appearance they are not far apart, a few miles — not above six — between
them. 1 rode across the hills, and the way is somewhat difficult of access
where the mountains raise their crests aloft, but it is wild and picturesque,
therefore I persevered. Passes are met away from the level road, and
these I traversed as they swept round the base of highlands, affording
glimpses of rich tillage country beyond — vallies white with fields from
which the corn had been severed, and the farmer's houses looked com-
fortable and prosperous with their well-filled yards, crowded with corn-
stacks and hay-ricks. I passed through the neat town of Rathcormac,
and reached the Lodge gate. A long avenue bordered on either hand by
laurel hedges, close cut and forming an impervious screen, invited my
progress. I proceeded along. Forest trees of magnificent dimensions

414 LISNEGAR.

dotted the lawns, and some rose from amid the screen and threw their
boughs over the evergreens. An archway, verdant as ivy could make it,
permitted my passing under its battlements into a yard — the walls, the
dwellings, surrounding, being clad in ivy green. The poet says —

" A rare old plant is the ivy green
It creepeth where no life is seen."

but not only there, but elsewhere ; as life was seen in shape of sundry fine
little dogs — well-bred terriers — a maid servant, and serving man, who
took in my card and presently returned — " With the greatest pleasure my
lord wishes you to visit all the place," and added a detail of all the
sights worth seeing — which, however, I do not mean to trouble the reader
with recounting, as in truth, except the house, the grounds are nothing
extraordinary — they are very nearly a dead level, and it bespeaks a great
deal for his lordship's taste and assiduity in landscape gardening that so
much has been made of them ; but the house is well worth seeing. It is in the
Elizabethan style, and the peaked and pointed gables, the deep mullioned
square-casemented windows, and heavy clusters of chimneys produce their
usual picturesque effect. Some very fine antlers are judiciously placed
over the door- way and near the centre of a tall archway leading from the
court-yard, which have a good effect. The entrance is in the centre, a
plain door surmounted by an embayed projecting window, and, over the
embattled parapet appears a quaint front, from the centre of which rises
a large cross and flag-staff. This mansion, in its present tasteful aspect,
is not of very ancient date, but it might pretend to vast antiquity from
the luxuriant garb of ivy in which it is profusely invested. A very good
argument in favour of this friend to" the admirers of the picturesque, is in
a volume of agreeable Essays, by one of Nature's most ardent followers,
Charles Waterton It is a commonly received notion that ivy is ruinous
to any tree to which it attaches, and, as I am particularly fond of it, I
made the extract to shew from so high an authority as my esteemed friend,
that the notion is quite erroneous. Mr. Waterton says, " Ivy derives no
nutriment from the timber trees to which it adheres. It merely makes
use of a tree or a wall, as we ourselves do of a walking stick when old
age or infirmities tell us that we cannot do without it. There can be no
doubt as to the real source from which the ivy draws life and vigour
— from the ground alone the maintenance proceeds. An opinion prevails
that ivy not only deforms the branch to which it adheres, but that it is
injurious to the growth of the timber itself. My wish for the preser-
vation of birds urges me to attempt the defence of my favourite plant on
these two important points. If I may judge by what I see with my own
eyes, I must conclude that ivy is noways detrimental to the tree which
has lent it a support. Having given ivy to many trees, and refused it
to others in the immediate vicinity, and on the same soil, in order to have
a good opportunity of making a fair examination, I find upon minute
inspection of these several trees that they are all of fine growth, and in a
most healthy state ; those with ivy on them, and those without it not
varying from each other in appearance more than ordinary groups of
forest trees are wont "to do. Neither is this to be wondered at when we
reflect, that the ivy has its roots in the ground itself, and that it does not
ascend in spiral progress round the bole and branches of the tree ; its
leading shoot is perpendicular. Hence it is not in a position to compress
injuriously the expansive powers of the tree, proportionably stronger

CASTLE WIDENHAM. 415

than its own. Thus we find that the ivy gradually gives way before
them, so that on removing the network (if it may be so called) which
the ivy has formed on the bole of the tree we find no indentations." I
am sure I need no apology for the length of this extract, so valuable from
the high character of the writer ; and the effect of ivy in ornamenting
buildings is fully exhibited in the mansion of Lisnegar. The grounds
are extensive, and beautifully kept, but, as we have already remarked,
are too level to afford any variety of scenery. Directly in front of the
mansion is a wide gravel walk of great extent, running straight towards
the demesne wall and a gate leading to the road. A profusion of ever-
greens are planted at each side of the walk, and rustic seats are placed
under shady canopies. To the left stretches a fine expanse of water, fed
by a mountain rill which flows through the grounds. It crosses the walk
in front of the mansion, and stepping stones enable the passenger to con-
tinue his progress dryshod. On another road is a handsome bridge,
thrown across the limpid water, which makes a pleasing object in the
landscape. Lisnegar was the ancient seat of the Barrys, a very ancient
Anglo-Norman family, who acquired vast possessions in this part of
Munster. David De Barry, of Rathcormac, sat in the upper house of
Parliament as Baron, in the reign of King Edward I,, anno 1302.*

The family name of Lord Riversdale is Tonson, and the present peer
is the second Baron. The peerage is Irish, created in 1783. The father
of Lord Riversdale was an officer in the army, and a member of the Irish
Parliament. He represented the Borough of Baltimore in the House of
Commons for forty-six years. By marriage with the eldest daughter of
James Bernard, Esq., of Castle Bernard, sister of the first Earl of Bandon,
he had issue his heir and successor, William, now Lord Riversdale. His
lordship married a daughter of Viscount Doneraile, but has no offspring.
He succeeded his father in 1787, and is Colonel of the South Cork
Militia. The heir presumptive to the title is the Hon and Right Rev.
Ludlow Tonson, Bishop of Killaloe, one of the most gifted preachers in
Ireland, which talent is often eloquently exercised in the divine cause of
charity.

TOftnrfjam,

THB SEAT OF HENRY MITCHEL SMYTH, ESQ.

" I know each lane and every alley green,

Dingle and bushy dell of this wild wood.
And every bosky bourne from side to side
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood."

MILTON.

THUS we may well exclaim, in recording some reminiscences of scenes
among which we have lived since the merry days when we were young.

" Pleasant days, that through the wild wood
Echo back the thoughts of childhood."

The memory of such days in after life tempts us, for a moment, to
moralize. To us and to many of our readers they are freighted with stores

of tender and pure feelings, the richest treasures of the heart; while

* Smith's History of Cork.

416 CASTLE WIDENIIAM.

dwelling upon their memory, pride and worldly ambition, envy and
jealousy, selfishness and deceit, the mean and despicable passions which
the world and commerce with men engender, are hidden and trampled
down by the vivid and soothing recollections of early days ; the boyish
sports, the early friends, the long, long absent, the departed, all start into
life, bright and joyous and loveable as in early days.

Castle Widenham was to us, from our youth, the beau ideal of a
feudal castle. The tall keep soaring high above the waving forests, the
embattled towers, the parapets, and the well within the precincts of the
castle to supply the garrison with water when the beleaguering enemy in-
tercepted any communication beyond the walls, were so many links in the
chain that wound round our juvenile imagination while sauntering through
the lordly woods, climbing the tall trees, or listening to the dash and
flow of the bright river as it winded through the glen. But principally
at eventide, when the sun, like a tired chieftain, had sunk to his slumber,
and the woods increased their shade to blackness, and silence sat on the
castled steep, and the moon arose and cast a silvery light over the old
grey stones, bringing every embrazure and loop-hole into a flood of light,
it seemed like some haunted fortress, or —

" Castle high where wicked wizards keep
Their captive thralls."

But in actual sober reality it is a majestic dwelling. This castle, with
the adjacent town, was formerly a portion of the territory of the Lord Roche,
Viscount Fermoy, one of the Anglo-Norman families, who, in the days of
Henry Fitzempress arrived and settled in Ireland. They gave their name
to castle and town — the latter still retains the appellation Castletown
Roche, and is a very considerable village in the county of Cork. There
is a charming view opening from the east bank of the river near the bridge.
The Aubeg here runs into the gloom of the arches, the bridge itself
being a conspicuous object in the foreground. On one side is a lofty
ledge of rock crowned by hanging woods. A gentle hill breasts the
opposite side ; and along the brow is the parish church and portion of the
town. The background is filled up by extensive mills, and a rocky
steep surmounted with a tiara of towers — the castle we have mentioned.
Having renewed our acquaintance with the honoured walls very lately,
we remarked considerable renovations and additions, all of which met
our warmest approbation, as they are in perfect keeping with the Anglo-
Norman castle yet erect. This remnant of feudal times rises to a great
elevation, and the summit, which is easily reached, the stone stair being
perfect, affords from every side superb prospects.

The family who built this castle traced their descent, Mr. Burke* tells
us, from David de la Roche, who lived in the reign of Edward II. He
was royally descended by his mother's side, she being daughter of the
Princess Joan of Acre, and granddaughter of the English Justinian,
Edward I. They were created Lords Fermoy after their arrival in this
kingdom ; and it would appear, the name originally was De Rupe, for in
Charles the First's reign the peer's signature was, " De Rupe and Fermoy."
The following account of the seizure of Lord and Lady Roche by Sir
Walter Raleigh is very interesting, -j-

* Vide Dictionary of the Landed Gentry, f Smith's History of Cork, vol. ii. p. 60.

CASTLE WJDEN7HAM, 417

While Ralph lay in this city (Cork), he performed signal pieces of
service against the rebels ; among others, Zouch ordered him to take
Lord Roche and his lady prisoners, and bring them to Cork, they being
suspected of corresponding with the rebels. The Seneschal of Imokilly
and David Barry, having notice of this design, assembled 7 or 800 men,
to fall on Raleigh either going or on his return. Raleigh quitted Cork
•with about ninety men, at ten of the clock at night, and marched
towards Bally-in-Harsh, twenty miles from Cork, the house of Lord
Roche (a nobleman well beloved in this country), and arrived there early
in the morning.

He marched directly up to the castle gate ; whereupon the townsmen,
to the number of five hundred, immediately took up arms. Raleigh,
having placed his men in order, took with him Michael Butler, James
Fulford, Nicholas Wright, Arthur Barlow, Henry Swane, and Pinking
Huish, and knocking at the gate, three or four of Lord Roche's gentlemen
demanded the cause of their coming : to whom Raleigh answered, that
he came to speak with their lord ; which was agreed to, provided he
would bring in with him but two or three of his followers. However,
the gate being opened, he, and all the above-mentioned persons, entered the
castle ; and, after he had seen Lord Roche, and spoken to him, he, by
degrees and different means, drew in a considerable number of his men,
whom he directed to guard the iron gate of the court lodge, and that no
man should pass in or out ; and ordered others into the hall, with their
arms ready. Lord Roche set the best face he could upon the matter, and
invited the captain to dine with him. After dinner, Raleigh informed
him, that he had orders to carry him and his lady to Cork. Lord Roche
began to excuse his going, and at length resolutely said, " That he
neither could or would go ;" but Raleigh, letting him know, that if he
refused, he would take him by force, he found there was no remedy, and
therefore he and his lady set out on the journey, in a most rainy and tem-
pestuous night, and through a very rocky and dangerous way, whereby
many of the soldiers were severely hurt, and others lost their arms.
However, the badness of the weather (prevented their being attacked by
the Seneschal and his men ; for they arrived safe in the city by break
of day, to the great joy of the garrison, who were surprised that
Raleigh had escaped so hazardous an enterprise. As for Lord Roche, he
acquitted himself honourably of the crimes he was charged with, and
afterwards did good service against the Irish. From the date of the fol-
lowing inscription on a stone imbedded in the wall of the church at
Castletown Roche, we think it must refer to this lord and lady. The
date Snu'th assigns for the above arrest is A. D. 1580.

Orate

Pro bono statu
Domini Maurici

,nfiinnaul f^iI^nS * Roche vice co-

eiifo m IBVITIB ifoifc ^^§B°fe#

ManuridTie
Pro A: ime ejus
Anno Domini 1585.

The loyalty of this family should have preserved them from suspicion.
In a petition presented to the Lords of the Council in 1614, it is stated that

VOL. IV., NO. XIX. H H

418 CASTLE-COOKE.

in Tyrone's rebellion, three of the sons of Lord Roche were slain, and
many of his people. The castle maintained a brave defence against the
beleaguering army of Cromwell during the Parliamentary war ; and the
famous Countess of Derby was not singular in displaying the heroism
s<o remarkable in a female breast, for Lady Roche proved that her fidelity
to her sovereign was superior to regard for her own safety. She refused
to yield up the castle, and sustained a siege for several days with great
spirit ; but a battery having been brought to bear on the walls from a
place since called Camp Hill, she found the place untenable, and was
forced to capitulate. Though the Lord Roche might have retained his
estates on submitting to Cromwell, he refused to break his allegiance,
and accordingly confiscation deprived him of his possessions. He retired
to Flanders, where he obtained the command of a regiment, and would
have lived in comfort, if not affluence, but the pay which should have
supported his family, was contributed to assuage the exile of his prince ;
and how was he repaid ? — " Put not thy trust in princes," saith the
Proverb. Charles II. was restored to the throne of his fathers ! but was
Lord Roche to the castle of his ? The following letter, addressed from the
Earl of Orrery to the Duke of Ormond, dated June 14th, 1667, recom-
mending Lord Roche and his destitute family to his Grace's favour, is the
fullest answer : — " It is a grief to me to see a nobleman of so ancient a family
left without any maintenance ; and being able to do no more than I have
done, I could not deny to do for him what I could do, to lament his
lamentable state to your Grace." The family sought and found, like so
many of their countrymen, the maintenance and employment in foreign
kingdoms they of right ought to have found in their own.

The present proprietor of this castle and the estate on which it stands, is
Henry Mitchell Smy th, Esq., J. P., descended from the house of Ballinatray.
He acquired the property by marriage with Priscilla Widenham Creagh,
heiress to Charles Widenham, into whose family the castle and lands
came in Cromwell's time. The founder of the house of Smyth appears,
from a full and accurate account in " Burke's Landed Gentry," to have
been Sir Richard Smyth, Kt., who married Mary, sister of the celebrated
Richard Boyle, Earl of Cork. His son, Sir Percy, was conspicuous for
his loyalty during the fearful civil wars of 1641, and subsequent years.
He raised a force of one hundred men to assist the President of Munster,
Sir William St. Leger. Various political appointments rewarded his zeal ;
and he was one of the remonstrants against the cessation of arms agreed
upon between the Marquis of Ormond and Lord Muskerry, in A. D. 1644.
His son represented the borough of Tallow in the Irish Parliament.

, to. Corfe,

THE SEAT OF WILLIAM COOKE COLLIS, ESQ., J.P.

ON a lofty hill, which flings its shadow fully across the silver waters of
the Ariglin river, rushing for its cradle among the Gualty mountains, a
few miles from Kilworth, co. Cork, stands a high solitary tower. This is
Castle-Cooke ; and a few hundred yards from the castle steep stands the
residence of the Collis family. Like many houses of the old school, it is
of very irregular architecture, apparently built more as convenience sug-

CA8TLE-COOKE. 419

gested than art designed, and now full of angles and gables, returns and
fronts A roomy house nevertheless, and a sweet residence for an ardent
lover of the chase. In the adjoining kennel have long lived — •

" Hounds that made the welkin ring,
And fetched shrill echoes from the hollow earth."

The old tower, in its airy height, gives a look of respectable antiquity to
the place. The view from this portion of the demesne is extensive and
beautiful. In front opens a deep and wooded glen, through which the
waters of the Ariglin river force their way, and the plains of sand borne
by the floods in winter shew the strength and breadth the waters then
display. Oak coppices and fir groves darken the hill sides, and clothe the
steep on which the castle is built. To the east extends the picturesque
glen, where the earl of Kingston has recently added a tasteful summer
villa to his other residences in this country. The blue and lofty peaks
of the Gaultys bound the view in this quarter. A wild and primitive dis-
trict extends from Castle-Cooke to the Kilworth mountains, where the
Waste Land of Ireland Improvement Society might labour with signal
advantage. In this retired and secluded region there settled down, some-
time about the year 1670, by some singular chance, one Thomas Cooke,
a wealthy merchant of London town. What on earth induced him to quit
the sound of Bow bell for the lair of the Rapparee, near Kilworth moun-
tains, I cannot conceive ; but it is possible he lent monies to the Williamite
generals, as many adventurous men then did, on condition of getting
grants of the lands forfeited by the adherents of James II., and in return
for his gold Cooke got the acres along the Ariglin banks. Certain it is he
fixed his dwelling here, in this tower upshooting high, and " Burke's
Landed Gentry " records the descent of his progeny. The castle and
lands having passed into female hands, went with them to the Collis family,
by marriage of Martha Cooke with the Rev. William Collis, and from these
is descended William Cooke Collis, Esq., J.P., the present proprietor.
His eldest son married Miss Hyde, of Castle-Hyde, but, he dying without
male issue, the heir apparent is the Rev. Maurice A. Collis, who is married
to Anne, daughter of the Rev. John Talbot Crosbie, of Ardfert Abbey, and
granddaughter of Lady Anne Crosbie, eldest daughter of William, Earl of
Glandore.

t>7 10
H H 2

420

NOTES RESPECTING THE LIFE AND FAMILY OF JOHN
DYER, THE POET.

BY WILLIAM HYLTON LONGSTAITE.

fo-fuss-jmnfr rri rr

No. III.

THE first mention of Clio by Dyer appears to be in his " Country
Walk," which, from the style in which it is written, I conjecture to have
been composed about the same time as " Grongar Hill."

" Some trace the pleasing paths of joy,
Others the blissful scene destroy,
In thorny tracks of sorrow stray,
And pine for Clio far away.
But stay— Methinks her lays I hear,
So smooth ! so sweet ! so deep I so clear !
No, 'tis not her voice, I find
*Tis but the echo stays behind.

* * * * *

Up Grongar Hitt I labour now, &c.

* * * # *

See below the pleasant dome,
The poet's pride, the poet's home,
Which the sunbeams shine upon,
To the even, from the dawn ;
See her woods, where Echo talks,
Her gardens trim, her terrass walks,
Her wildernesses, fragrant brakes,
Her gloomy bowers, and shining lakes ;
Keep ye gods, this humble seat
For ever pleasant, private, neat.

But oh ! how bless'd would be the day
Did I with Clio pace my way,
And not alone and solitary stray."

Thus it appears that Clio, whoever she was (and I think there can be
no doubt, from the sequel, that she was a real fleshly personage), did not
live in the poet's native country, but afar off. In the collections of
British Poetry will be found a small poem, " The Enquiry," on the
sadness of him as a shepherd, in the absence of his Clio. " To Mr. Dyer,
by Clio," also. This begins with

•* I *ve done thy merit and my friendship wrong,
In holding back my gratitude so long," &c.

And ends thuJ. after praising his poems and pictures :

M I wish to praise you, but your beauties wrong ;
No theme looks green in Clio's artless song ;
But yours will an eternal verdure wear,
For Dyer's fruitful soil will flourish there.
My humble lot was in low distance laid —
I was — oh, hated thought — a woman made ;
For household cares and empty trifles meant,
The name does immortality prevent.

JOHN DYER, THE POET. 421

Yet, let me stretch beyond my sex, my mind,
And, rising, leave the flattering train behind ;
Nor art, nor learning, wish'd assistance lends,
But nature, love, and music, are my friends.'*

Again, there is an epistle by Savage (who seems to have been very
friendly with our poet), " To Mr. John Dyer, a painter, advising him to
draw a certain noble and illustrious person ; occasioned by seeing his
picture of the celebrated Clio." He praises the picture in unmeasured
terms of approbation, and calls him " enriched with Clio's praise." So
Dyer and Clio were friendly, and he drew her picture ; and did he love
her? Yes, doubtless. And was the passion returned? It might be.
We know not.

Let now his MSS. be examined, and we shall find some more definite
notices of her perhaps. First, there is a fragment, apparently in answer
to Savage's.

" O deeply learned, wisely modest, tell,

Is it a fa It to like thy praise so well?

Pleas'd to be praised by thee, my spirits glow,

And could I ever, I could praise her now.

I meet her beauties in a brighter ray,

And in my eye-beams all her graces play.

Enlivened by your praise, my genius wakes,

And a bold notice of her beauty takes.

Too long in lethargy my soul has lain,
C But now I dare her charms. Alas ! in vain ; >

I But hold my muse, thy praise has made thee vain ; J

So the rash Icarus ( his way mistook.
( mistook his way.

f O who can limn the beauties of her look I
< And so J young} Phaeton in floods of day 1 "
C ( bold >

And then he rambles on in general remarks on painting. But the
prettiest little poem on the subject of Clio was written at Rome. It
occurs in two metres ; the longest is the best, and is here given :

"To CLIO, TKOM ROME.

« Alas, dear Clio, every day ' rf*q

Some sweet idea dies away !
Echoes of songs, and dreams of joys,
Inhuman Absence all destroys.

" Inhuman Absence, and his train,
Avarice, and Toil, and Care, and Pain,'
And Strife, and Trouble ! Oh, for Love,
Angelic Clio, these remove.

*' Nothing, alas ! where'er I walk,
Nothing but Fear and Sorrow stalk ;
Where'er I walk, from bound to bound,
Nothing but ruin spreads around,

" Or busts that seem from graves to rise,"
Or statues stern with sightless eyes,
Cold Death's pale people : Oh, for Love,
Angelic Clio, these remove.

422 NOTES RESPECTING THE LIFE AND FAMILY OF

" The tuneful song, O speed away,
Say every sweet thing Love can say ;
Speed the bright beams of Wit and Sense,
Speed thy white Doves, and draw me hence.

" So may the carv'd fair-speaking stone,
Persuasive half, and half moss-grown ;
So may the column's graceful height,
O'er woods and temples gleaming bright,

'* And the wreath'd urn among the vines^
Whose form my pencil now designs,
Be, with their ashes, lost in air,
No more the trifles of my care.'*

Some, however, may prefer the shorter version r

"To CLIO.

(A corner torn off, evidently having had some note on it4

" Ah, my Clio, every day
Some sweet image dies away ;
All my songs and all my joys,
Cruel Absence all destroys.

" Cruel Absence, and his train,
Strife and Envy, Care and Pain,
Toil and Trouble ! Oh, for Lover
Gentle Clio, these remove.

" Speed, O speed the song away,
Say the sweet things Love can say ;
Speed the beams of Wit and Sense,
Speed thy Doves, and draw me hence.

" So be the urn among the vines
Which my pencil now designs,
With its ashes lost in air,
Lost with every idle care/*

Finally, there is one more fragment, most mysterious, on which I can
throw no light :

" Part of a Letter to Clio — it was wrote sometime in the year 1727. . . -
. . . . the subject is too delicate. Had custom made us all free to unre-
strained love, had law exacted no vows, I could then disturb the confidence of
no man ; I could then see and hear my Charmer, without doing an injury, real
or imaginary. O Clio, I have often sate down with desire to do universal good,
In the purest love, to be true to all. I have put myself in the place of the in-
jured, and grieved at many things. For the future I am bent to do nothing
that, were it known to all the world, would be thought unjust to any one. O
Clio, forgive me, and still believe your faithful," &c.

1727 was the year " Grongar Hill" was published in, and probably
the " Country Walk," first quoted, written. Whoever this Clio might
be, it seems likely that she was engaged to some other person, who was
jealous of her intimacy with Dyer. But an impenetrable darkness rests
on this early love of our poet. Certainly Clio was not his future wife,
for she would only be fifteen years old at this date.

JOHN DYER, THE POET. 42$

"Sarah, the daughter of James Ensor, borne June the 12th, 17 12." —Family
Prayer Book.

"1712, June 16. Bapt. Sarah, dau. of James Ensor, of Willingcoat." — Tam-
worth Par. Reg.

" Sarah Dyer, died Sept. 1760, aged 48."— Prayer Book.

This is an anticipation, however, and the only reason for mentioning-
Miss Ensor here is a desire to prevent any notion springing up in a
casual reader, that she might be identical with Clio, and that there had
been an early attachment, especially as the former lady was actually
married to another before the poet, viz., a Mr. Hawkins, whom I know
only by name.

The supposition of Dyer returning from Italy only in 1740, prevents
his biographies having any notices of him in the preceding years ; and all
I can say of him at this period must be derived from the scattered minutes
he made in his pocket-books, which form miscellanies of extracts, thoughts,
and maxims. Hitherto he had been a painter — now he turned farmer ;
and seems to have resided chiefly with his aunt, Miss Cocks of Mapleton,
engaged in matters of husbandry. His books must tell their own tale :

«M729. — July 3. Bought South Sea Bonds, £100 each, interest paid to the
26th March, 1729, No. 685, 1017, 2236, 6129." [So he was not very much
poverty-stricken.] " Took lodgings in Covent Garden, July 8th. At Mr. Pond's,
Nov. 18. Left Mr Pond's and London, July 25. Came to Mapleton Aug. 1.

"1734." — [This book is full of husbandry matters.] — "Came to Mapleton
23d April. Paid Lady Williams £52. May 2. — Lent my aunt, to pay Mr.
Haylings, ,£20. Lent brother Bennet £3 5s." [Then follow the expenses of a
hop-yard he seems to have cultivated at Mapleton.]

" May 29, 1734. — I frequently wish I could abandon Mapleton with the fan-
cied advantages of it ; but the fear that by so doing my aunt would be involved
with troubles confines me here."

[Aunt Cocks would appear, from the following fragment of a draft letter
to her, to have been a fidgetty quarrelsome person, and doubtless Dyer
had his own troubles with her ] : —

" What would you have me do (for I hear of great complaints) ? Would you
have me injure myself, while you say you are doing me a kindness ? You put
things in a flattering light towards yourself and others, and I fear by a false
prudence you will ever draw troubles upon yourself. Take, if you please, this
my last proposal. Instead of a consideration for the chance of the hop-yard —
I'll insist not on the reversion of the three copyhold pieces Mapleton side of
H. brook, for I own myself disgusted, but never will oblige myself to live with
you at Mapleton — to have the house for myself, and let all things else stand as
it was agreed on. If you comply with this, I'll endeavour to give all the assist-
ance I can in paying off your private debts, and making you pass the rest of
your life in quietness and happiness. This, indeed, I would beg you to do.

" I am about to grant a lease of the farm for 21 years or for fives. If 'tis dis-
agreeable to any scheme you have, be pleased to let me know, and I won't do it,
but will prefer any offer of yours which I shall think reasonable, and I'll wait a
day or two for the favour of an answer."

"Gave Brother Bennet a bond for £100 ye 22d October.

" Mem. To get a copy of Aunt Wms- Bond I gave for J. Davies.*

* Davies is an old name in Kidwelly. One John Davies of that place published,
in 1672, the curious Rites and Monuments of the Church of Durham, collected out of
ancient MSS. about the time of the suppression.

424 NOTES RESPECTING THE LIFE AND FAMILY OF

"Took lodgings at Mr. Wilkinson's, Monday, 2fith January, 1735. Agreed
with the barber 31st Jan. Paid to Monday, 8th of March."

In 1735 and 1736 he was lending money to different people, and
about this time was preparing a large commercial map of England, of
which hereafter. In 1737 he was paying hop-yard expenses incurred in
1734, and in 1739 was also in England, for there occurs this date affixed
to some political remarks, in a book of exactly the same writing, entitled,
" The Geography of the Counties, their lengths and breadths, surface and
soil — Reflections on the several Counties of England and Wales, with
regard to trade, &c. : occasioned by a question, Whether 'tis possible to
maintain the rights and extend the trade of a Nation without tricks,
frauds, and villany in the Ministers ? " In this little MS. an immense
number of extracts, schemes, and remarks are congregated ; and as he
was now also finishing the " Ruins of Rome," striking out the general
idea of the Fleece, and studying for the church, this period T.yas doubtless
one of the busiest in the poet's career.

" Grongar Hill " was published in 1727. Quite as early, or perhaps
earlier, are " The Country Walk," before referred to, and " To Aurelia"
(in MS.), begging her to leave the town, "though pleasant spring is
blown," for the country :

" Come, Aurelia, come and see
What a seat is decked for thee ;
But the seat you cannot see,
'Tis so hid with jessamy,
With the vine that o'er the walls,
And in every window crawls.

Of the same writing is an invitation to some of his London relatives
(in MS.) :

" From social converse of the town,
And dearer friends of Marybone,"

to breathe the mountain air, and view the green hills and flowery vales of
Cambria, wherein he once more wanders to where

" Towy, in whose crystal wave,
The train of Cambrian Genii lave,
Flows gently on, with conscious pride,
Views fertile plains on either side,
And thence, collecting many a rill,
Paints the fair fields of Grongar Hill;"

which he mounts, and pictures again its various prospects, with much
more preciseness, but less grace, than in his well-known description of it ;
and while his friends would admire what he loved so much — the verdant
charms of a Welsh landscape —

, ,, . , ,
V Marias )

I Cleora's 3 hospitable care,
At home provides the frugal fare j"

with a description of which he concludes.

JOHN DYER, THE POET. 425

1728. — " Occasioned by the behaviour of some of the Hereford Clergy,
1728."

" I hate the proud; the reptile of an hour,
Whose little life is insolence, I spurn :
I scorn him more (ridiculous vain thing !)
Than the lone idiot, outcast of his kind,
The naked mark of laughter ! but alas,
Alas poor brother ! why disdain I thee ?
Thine is no crime, yet be it — Pride alone
Is that mean vice to be chastised with scorn.'*

June, 1735. — " Too much my soul hath fastened on the World,"
short piece in blank verse.

The following are without date, though all doubtless before 1740,
which year forms a sort of epoch in Dyer's life.

" An Epistle to a famous Painter," (see " British Poets.") A few
altered readings and additions occur in the MSS.

" To Aaron Hill, Esq., on his Poem called Gideon." Mr. Hill, in a
poem entitled "The Choice — to Mr. Dyer" (both these are in the
" British Poets"), names Dyer thus :

" While charm'd with Aberglasney's quiet plains,
The Muses and their empress court your strains,
Tir'd of the noisy town, so lately tryed,
Methinks I see you smile on Towy's side !
Pensive, her mazy wanderings you unwind,
And, on your river's margin, calm your mind.
Oh ! — greatly bless' d — whate'er your fate requires,
Your ductile wisdom tempers your desires!
Balanced within, you look abroad serene,
And marking both extremes, pass clear between."

" The Cambro-Briton," a fragmentary description of a friend, a con-
tented shepherd poet of Wales, blank verse.

Query, does the following scrap relate to himself?

" From travell'd realms the curious swain returns, 1
Sees a fair face,* imagines charms, and burns ;
Pure in his passion, tries each modest art,
And every chaste embrace, to win her heart.

Blest lover, blest in thy mistake, rejoice !
Blest in repulse ; and now no more thy choice
Be the false beauties of a face or voice :
But softness, plainness, nobleness of mind ;
But clear sweet sense, by easy art refined ;
But bright good-natured wit, and Myraf shall be kind.
E'en now the Graces, for thy longing arms,
Profusely deck her with unfading charms."

lo
Celia, J the picture of Good Nature :

" How has Good Nature drawn her own dear face,
How wantons every smile with every grace,

*MissShen— e. f Mrs. G - r. [ J Miss Fith. Wor.

426 VOTES RESPECTING JOHN DYER, THE POET.

And dances in her eyes ! delicious view !

The rest which is but handsome, Venus drew."

To Celia :

" Oh, to my bosom Celia come,
For I am thine, thy gentle home,
And thou art mine, my better part ;
Why, Nature made thee of my heart."

What had got Clio ? I am afraid Dyer was fickle, like his brethren
poets. The following has too much truth in it :

" Adieu, sweet vision ! fled how soon !

Farewell, beauty — ah, ye blind !
Deck ye the flower that fades at noon,
And not th' immortal mind ?

" See the fair shrine of virtue, where it lies
In the cold grave — that face and mien I
O grief 1 one little hour we mourn and praise
The next, forget and sin.

" See dead, poor Phillis, yesterday's delight !

Among the fair and is there sorrow F
Ah now, my lovely Celia, now e'er night,
What graces wilt thou wear to-morrow ? "

" Nature in the Wilderness, a poem ;" — a few heads denned.

Had Dyer had more perseverance, and finished the many schemes he
contemplated, and of which he only struck out the main ideas, he would
now have ranked far higher in the scale of British poets. His energies
were, like those of too many persons at the present day, wasted in small
and unimportant effusions.

Darlington, October 1847.

427

HISTORIC RUINS.

Catftlt-Comull, co. lltnurirfe.

THEBE is, perhaps, no period of English history which, when contem-
plated in relation to remote and permanent results, possesses a more
interesting or important character than that of the Anglo-Norman inva-
sion of Ireland ; an event which, though immediately arising from the
ambition of a Plantagenet and the vices of an Irish monarch, constituted,
in reality, an indispensable preliminary to the formation of that vast em-
pire, and world-embracing influence, which England subsequently achieved.
In support of this proposition, it becomes merely necessary to observe,
that had the condition of Ireland, as a distinct and completely independent
sovereignty, remained intact and inviolate, England could not have em-
bodied those armies, and established that formidable marine, which have
so powerfully co-operated in the production and maintenance of that
supremacy, which, identified, as it were, with the principles of civilization,
would seem to run parallel with the universal interests of mankind. In-
dependently of this consideration, it is abundantly evident, that in the
event of Ireland having been subjugated by a foreign power at any time
hostile to England, or in a state of alliance with one indisposed to main-
tain friendly relations, consequences perhaps of the most calamitous
description might have arisen. The invasion, therefore, of Ireland, to-
gether with her subsequent absorption in the British empire, is justly
entitled to be regarded as a proceeding highly important indeed as an
abstract consideration, but assuming, in its multiplied bearings and endur-
ing influence, an aspect of paramount and transcendant gravity. The
reflections associated with this view of the subject are, confessedly,
manifold and interesting. The establishment of our colossal Indian
empire — the overthrow of the Napoleon dynasty — the usurpation of the
red man's forest-home and boundless hunting-grounds — the establishment
of the star-spangled banner's broad empire — the colonization of Southern
Africa — the transposition of Anglican energy to the island-continent of
Australia, and polynesian groups of the far-off Pacific — the train and
combination of circumstances, and other instrumentalities, which seem
destined ultimately to confer on the language of Great Britain a world-
wide universality, may be legitimately recognised as forming a portion of
the veritable results deriving themselves from that distant but prolific
source.

Associations such as these are eminently calculated to invest, as with
an encircling halo, the mouldering ruins of those castellated structures,
erected by the early Norman adventurers in attestation of their preten-
sions to rule and retain the ample domains, for whose possession they
were indebted to their trusty blades alone. Consecrated by their anti-
quity, they present to the imaginative and well-informed, an extrinsic
charm and character, and awaken a host of long-buried memories, in
the past-irradiating splendour of which, ^the mailed warrior and haughty
dame, the beleaguered fortress and prostrate suppliant, the baron's
revelry and the victim's dungeon, spring into unreal but poetically palpable
existence.

428 HISTORIC RUINS.

Amongst the historic ruins of Ireland, there are none, perhaps, whose
claims on the attention of the antiquarian and philosophic inquirer, are of
a more decided and unequivocal nature, than those of the ancient and
once' magnificent castle of Castle-Connell ; combining, as they do, the
double interest derived from Anglo-Norman and Milesian reminiscences,
and cresting the rude and precipitous rock, which lifts its huge and iso-
lated form, in gloomy grandeur, above the surrounding scene. The
distant outline, and blue undulations of the Clare mountains, presenting
an attractive feature towards the north-west, whilst the dim prospect of
the Tipperary hills, terminated by the giant bulk of the lordly keeper,
confers no inconsiderable charms on the north-eastern horizon. Immedi-
ately adjacent, and along the left bank of the Shannon, stretches the
rambling and beautiful village of Castle-Connell, the diversified appear-
ance of which is produced as much by the picturesque intermingling of
cottages, gardens, lodging-houses, orchards, and villas, as by the pleasing
inequality of the surface on which it stands. It is surrounded by beauty
of the most varied character, and embosomed in an amphitheatre, consist-
ing of noble demesnes, verdant slopes, undulating lawns, and fine
spreading woods ; whilst the Shannon — broad, clear, and broken into a
multitude of sparkling eddies — gives perfection to a scene, resembling
rather " a spirit's dream of beauty," than a visible and veritable reality.

An English tourist, speaking of this locality, doubts whether Killarney
itself greatly surpasses Castle-Connell in scenic loveliness and picturesque
combinations. In a southern direction, and about half-a-mile distant,
commence the rapids of the Shannon, which, in the neighbourhood, are
known by the appellation of the " Leap of Doonass " — a term deemed ,by
native philologists to be suggestive of the leading or general character of
the scene ; inasmuch as " Doonas " is composed of two Irish words, sig-
nifying, in allusion to the inclination down which the river is precipitated,
the Water-Hill. The Shannon, which, above the rapids, is forty feet deep,
and over three hundred yards in width, is there compressed into a chasm
nearly half a mile in length, and of considerably less than one-third the
breadth of the previous channel. Through this contracted passage, the
rugged sides of which, in many places, present a nearly perpendicular
elevation and in others, bold and abrupt projections, the accumulated
waters of the " mighty river " rush with headlong and impetuous fury
and stunning reverberations : over and amongst a succession of ledges
and ponderous rocks, the chafed and angry element is fearfully precipi-
tated, dashing tumultuously and thunderingly onwards, being for more
than a quarter of a mile almost a cataract, and presenting in its adjuncts
and tout ensemble, a spectacle so awfully superb, so thrillingly impressive,
that it may be well regarded as a truer expression and embodiment of the
sublime, than the Geisbach in Switzerland itself.

Some years ago, a boat, containing the Honourable Mrs. Massy, a ser-
vant, and two boatmen, in crossing the river at the head of the rapids,
was, in consequence, it is conjectured, of a dense fog which prevailed at
the time, engulphed in the foaming waters, and dashed to pieces; the
bodies of the three men, which were found a few days afterwards, were
frightfully mangled ; that of Mrs. Massy was not discovered until some
months had elapsed.

William Fitzadelm, or De Burgho, grandson of Hubert De Burgho,
Earl of Kent, who was nearly allied to the Conqueror, and esteemed the

HISTORIC RUINS. 429

most powerful subject in Europe, received from the king five military
fiefs, by charter, in the vicinity of a place called Joth, where the ruins of
the castle of Castle- Connell, which he forthwith erected, now present a
beautifully picturesque memorial of departed greatness and baronial mag-
nificence. The indefatigable ,energy and untiring zeal manifested by
this nobleman in the extension of English power, and consolidation of
his own authority, naturally rendered him obnoxious to the hostility and
hatred of the aboriginal inhabitants, of whose fast-waning power and in-
fluence he had become so formidable an antagonist. Keating, in the
second volume of his History of Ireland, quoting an Irish manuscript of
the thirteenth century, entitled the Book of Mac-Eogain, furnishes the
following account of an expedition which he conducted into the province
of Connaught : " Cruelty was the ruling passion of this nobleman ; he
put priests and people to the sword without distinction, and destroyed the
religious houses and other holy places in this province ; so that he drew
upon himself, by his tyrannical conduct, the censure of the clergy, and he
was solemnly excommunicated by the church, in which state he died of
an extraordinary sickness, which caused frightful distortions. He gave
no signs of repentance. His body was carried to a village, the inhabit-
ants of which he had put to death, and there thrown into a well, from
which it was never afterwards taken."* The honours which he conferred
on any one were always but a mark of his treacherous intentions, only
poison beneath the honey, and resembling a snake lurking in the grass ;
liberal and mild in his aspect, but carrying more aloes than honey within.

" Pelliculam veterem retinens, vir fronte politus,
Astutam vapido portans sub pectore vulpem
Impia sub dulci melle venena ferens."

HlBERNlA EXPUGNATA, C. 16.

Stanihurst, following Cambrensis, gives the following account of him :
" He was a man solely occupied in amassing riches, a mercenary governor,
and detested both by prince and people ; the duties of his office he dis-
charged in a shameful and sordid manner, disregarding justice when his
own interests were in question." He furthermore observes, " It is not
surprising that his memory should be detested by the people, ut non
mirum fuerit, si incolis, tristem, horribilemque memoriam nominis sui
reliqtierit."

In the year 1576, the celebrated James Fitzmaurice having arrived
at Rome, as the principal delegate of the disaffected Irish, was received
with the most flattering marks of distinction by Pope Gregory XIII. He
there entered into immediate communication with Cornelius O'Moel Ryan,
titular bishop of Killaloe, and Thomas Stukely, of whose paternity and
country no information of a positive or decided character has ever been
ascertained — some regarding him as a natural son of Henry VIII., and
others as the offspring of an English knight and an Irish lady. The
Sovereign Pontiff evinced great zeal for the Irish Catholics, to whom he
despatched numerous letters, exhorting them to persevere in the faith, and
employ the most strenuous exertions in the discomfiture and extinction
of the heresy which so seriously threatened the existence of the true
religion in Ireland. His Holiness raised the Earl of Desmond to the

* Hist. Cathol.

430 HISTORIC RUINS.

position of Generalissimo of the Holy League, and nominated James
Fitzmaurice his lieutenant ; to be replaced, in case of death or other dis-
qualifying casualty, by Sir J. Desmond, the Earl's second brother.
Gregory XIII. gave a large sum of money in furtherance of the enter-
prise, causing also two thousand men to be embodied in the Papal terri-
tories, to serve as auxiliaries in the projected expedition to Ireland, who
were placed under the command of Hercule De Pise, a general of consider-
able talent and experience. The necessary preparations having been
completed, the troops were embarked on board a small fleet, the
command of which was conferred on Thomas Stukely, with directions
to sail for Lisbon, and await the arrival of Fitzmaurice, whom circum-
stances constrained to proceed thither by land. The armament having,
after a prosperous voyage, reached that port, Stukely was easily persuaded,
by the promise of magnificent rewards, and effective assistance in carrying
on the war in Ireland, to join a most powerful and numerous army,
which Sebastian, King of Portugal, had organized for the African war, in
which he was then engaged. On arriving in Africa, a fierce and sanguin-
ary battle was fought, in which Sebastian of Portugal, and Abedelmelic,
King of Mauritania, lost their lives ; — in which catastrophe Stukely, and
a large proportion of the Italian brigade, also participated. Fitzmaurice
arriving in Portugal by land, felt indignant and distressed beyond mea-
sure, at Stukely's flagrant violation of the solemn engagement which he
had contracted, and the almost inevitable frustration with which, in con-
sequence, the great object of the expedition was threatened. Making,
however, the utmost possible exertions, and having no resource left, he
collected and re-organized the remnant of the Italian force which had
returned to the Peninsula, and which, when united to some Cantabrians
provided by his Catholic Majesty, formed a body amounting to about
twelve hundred men, with which he sailed for Ireland ; his fleet consist-
ing of six vessels, containing abundant supplies of ammunition, and arms
and accoutrements for ten thousand men. The expedition was accompa-
nied by Cornelius, Bishop of Killaloe, and Doctor Sandus, an English
priest, invested with the functions of legate from the Pope.

Towards the close of July, 1579, the fleet arrived at Ardnacant, or
Imerwick, near Dingle, in the County of Kerry. In this harbour, an
islet, connected by means of a natural causeway with the mainland, and
almost impregnably fortified by nature, was strengthened by such addi-
tional works as were calculated to remedy whatever deficiences might
have existed, on which it was converted into an arsenal by the indefatiga-
ble Fitzmaurice, who placed therein a garrison of six hundred men,
under the command of Don Sebastian De Saint Joseph. The arrival of
Fitzmaurice becoming generally known throughout the south and west of
the kingdom, Sir John Desmond, his brother James, and most of the
influential noblemen and chieftains of Munster, with their respective and
numerous followers, forthwith and eagerly repaired to Ardnacant, where a
junction was effected with the Italian and Spanish auxiliaries ; and
extensive preparations instituted for the accomplishment of a universal
and simultaneous insurrection against the government of Elizabeth.
Whilst raising troops, and establishing a correspondence with the disaf-
fected chieftains in other portions of the island, Sir John Desmond
assaulted the town of Tralee, which was defended by an English garrison,
putting, after a desperate conflict, the majority to the sword, and dispers-

H1STOBIC RUINS. 431

ing the remainder. Coincident with this proceeding, Fitzmaurice, with a
numerous and well-appointed force, commenced his march in the direction
of Connaught, in which province he was impatiently expected by the
entire mass of the native population — a coalition with whom would, in all
probability, not only have endangered the stability, but annihilated the
very existence of British domination throughout the land.

Sir William De Burgh, of Castle -Connell, foreseeing these consequences,
and vividly aware of the necessity which dictated a bold and desperate
course of action, as constituting the only means whereby the apprehended
catastrophe was capable of prevention, resolved on gathering his vassals
and feudatories together ; which body, on being joined by such forces as,
under existing circumstances, could speedily be collected from other quar-
ters, was forthwith despatched, under the command of his eldest son,
Theobald, to intercept the progress of Fitzmaurice, who, finding a contest
inevitable, formed the resolution of achieving victory, or dying on the
battle-field the glorious death of a hero. Being wounded in the breast
by a musket ball, he roused himself to a last effort, and, by almost super-
human exertions, clearing a passage through the enemy, entered into
personal conflict with Theobald De Burgh, whose head, after a fearfully
desperate contest, he struck off with a single blow. Meanwhile the battle
raged with unabated and impetuous fury on all sides ; two other sons of
Sir William De Burgh being also numbered with the slain. Fitzmaurice
survived his wound but six hours ; his death not only involving an
abandonment of the object of the expedition, but the loss to his party of
that master mind, without whose directing energies it was found impossi-
ble to effect that combination of elements and spirit of union, on which
success so essentially depended.

It would be difficult to exaggerate the importance, or over-estimate
the results of this battle. Had Fitzmaurice succeeded in realizing his
projected incursion into Connaught, not only the native population of that
province, but that of every other portion of the kingdom, would most un-
questionably have risen in fierce and formidable insurrection. Coming as he
did from the Pope, the cause which he had espoused was recommended to
the feelings and sympathies of the Irish people by all those considera-
tions which the influence of religion, the instigations of revenge, the
promptings of ambition, and a burning sense of hereditary wrongs, were
calculated to supply. Profoundly acquainted with the character of his
countrymen, and capable of rendering their passions and enthusiastic
temperament ancillary to the promotion of the great object of his life —
the subversion of British power and authority in Ireland — he might have
finally overwhelmed the queen's government, and brought into action
such agencies as would have rendered the re-conquest of the country a
matter of infinite peril and difficulty.

Elizabeth, grateful for the services of Sir William De Burgh, and com-
miserating his bereaved and forlorn condition, wrote him an autograph
letter of condolence, on the irreparable misfortune which he had sustained
in the loss of all his children. She furthermore settled on him an annual
pension of two hundred marks, to be paid out of the exchequer ; and
created him a peer of Ireland, by the style and title of Lord Baron of
Castle-Connell. These honours, however, proved ineffectual in assuaging
the deep grief with which he was overwhelmed : he became taciturn and
pensive, spending his days and nights in sighs and wretchedness ; a prey

432 HISTORIC RUINS.

to the profoundest melancholy and most abject depression of spirits, he
speedily died of a broken heart, exhibiting a striking exemplification of
those mournfully apposite lines —

" What can minister to a mind diseased,
. Or pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ? "

His title and estates were inherited by his grandson, from whom they
descended in an uninterrupted line to the last Lord Castle-Connell, who,
in the revolution of 1688, adhering to the fortunes of James, rendered
some brilliant service during the campaign, and fortifying the castle of
Castle-Connell, defended it with great valour and perseverance against
the Prince of Hesse, to whom it finally surrendered on the capitulation of
Limerick ; when, by order of De Ginckle, it was dismantled and blown
up — by which, according to the traditionary legends of the place, the at-
mosphere was subjected to so violent a concussion, that several windows
in Limerick, though nearly seven miles distant, were shattered into frag-
ments.

It should here be observed, that the structure erected by William De
Burgo, in the thirteenth century, was raised on the site of a previous edifice,
said to have been constructed, at some very remote period, by Connell,
an Irish chieftain. The treacherous murder, by a prince of Thomond,
within its walls, of a grandson of the celebrated Brian Boroimh, is a well-
authenticated event in connection with the early history of the Castle.
After the treaty of Limerick, Lord Castle-Connell having, in consequence
of his devotion to the fallen dynasty, undergone forfeiture of his peerage
and a large proportion of his estates, followed his royal master into exile,
and died a few years afterwards at Versailles. A remnant of the immense
possessions of the De Burgos in Munster, on which are situate the villages
of Castle-Connell and O'Brian's Bridge, forms a portion of the estate of
Sir Richard De Burgo, the present representative of the family, whose
romantic residence, placed on a rocky islet in the Shannon, and accessible
by means of an artificial causeway, commands a charming view of the
upper portion of the justly celebrated rapids. He has effected some
tasteful improvements in the village of Castle-Connell, which has long
been much resorted to by invalids and valetudinarians, on account of its
chalybeate spring, whose waters possessing a ferruginous and astringent
taste, have the same specific gravity as the German Spa, to which they
are generally supposed to be fully equal in medicinal and chemical pro-
perties. Near the Spa, and in close proximity with the Shannon, are
spacious assembly rooms, built by the late Sir Richard De Burgho, grand-
father of the present baronet, for the use of the inhabitants and numerous
visitors of the place. The ball-room, which is of very considerable
dimensions, is ornamented by the crest, motto, and armorial bearings of
the De Burgho family, handsomely sculptured in Italian marble.

HIPPEUS.

1o noifc,

SIR EPPELIN.

THE white clouds sail before the wind that is blowing loud and free,
And in the Nurnberg Palace-yard there waves the linden tree.
Oh, linden tree ! oh, linden tree ! full many a happy bird
Is singing 'mid thy leafy boughs — a strain ne'er blyther heard.

Oh, linden tree ! the sun has tipp'd thy flickering leaves with gold,
But thy birds within their gleaming bowers a sad sight shall behold.
White clouds, bright sun, and merry birds, are beautiful and gay,
But the bold " Wild Knight of Gailingen" must die the death to-day.

The Palace-yard is filled with men of stern unpitying eye,

And hearts as hard as their stout shields, to see the brave man die-

They lead him forth into the .court beside -the fatal block —

He glances calmly round, then stands as steadfast as a Tock.

The sky is flecked with snowy clouds .careering to the wind,
But his bold brow does not shew a trace of thoughts that cross his mind;
Yet how can he look round and draw his full and vigorous breath,
Feel life to stir within his breast, nor grieve his doom is death ?

The shadow of the linden tree lies dark upon the ground,
But the upper leaves are dancing, in a flood of glory crown'd :
The steel-clad men are muttering vows of vengeance deep and dire,
But the little birds sing sweetly on — a joyous fairy choir,

41 Sir Eppelin, demand a boon, it is a right of old,
The meanest criminal may claim before his days are told :
For burial or for present need alike thy choice is free ;
Ask not thy forfeit life — ought else shall fully granted be."

" The Wild Knight would not stoop of such as ye to ask his life!
But bring the good steed that so oft hath borne me in the strife,
Fain would I feel him in his might bound under me once more ;
Then welcome death ! — a prayer — a pang — my wild career is o'er ! "

They bring the good steed to his lord, that steed as raven black ;
Sir Eppelin has vaulted at one bound upon his back,
And he dashes round the court-yard like an arrow from the bow —
The very swallows that wheel near seem to his swiftness slow.

The Wild Knight's cheek is burning, and his heart is throbbing fast,
The blood speeds boiling through his veins ! — and is this ride his last ?
And shall his war-cry sound no more amid the thickening fray ?
There stands the block, the gleaming axe, and he must die to-day !

The noble horse one wistful look upon his master turns,

Then springing on, with clattering hoof the ringing pavement spurns ;

VOL. IV., NO. XIX. I I

434 SIB EPPELIN.

His snortings echo through the court, and fiery sparkles fly,

As, speeding round that narrow space, he mocks the dazzled eye,

His lord has read that wistful look — it pierces to his heart ;
For a soul was in its language : " Dearest master, must we part t
Shall thy voice no longer cheer me ? Shall I never arch my crest,
When the day of toil is ended, by thy loving hand caress'd ?

" I have borne thee in the battle, I have borne thee in the chase —
In the charge and in the forest we had aye the foremost place.
Could the red-deer bound more featly? could the falcon swifter fly ?
Shall the Wild Knight bow his stately head, and without a struggle die ?

" Feel my mighty strength beneath thee, think how matchless is my

speed ;

And my strength and spirit both are thine in this thine hour of need.
The walls are high, the moat is broad, but boundless is the plain :
Walls have been leapt, and water swam — dare, and be free again ! "

The steel-clad men are gather'd all beneath the linden's shade,
Beside the block the headsman leans upon his glistening blade ;
They gaze upon Sir Eppelin with wonder in each face —
With wonder that a dying man should ride so mad a race.

What doth he now, Sir Eppelin ? He stays his rapid course

With sudden check, and wheels around his lithe and willing horse :

A moment he recoils — collects his utmost energy —

One desperate leap, and the brave steed hath scaled the rampart high !

An instant stands with gather'd feet, poised on the narrow stone,
Then launches headlong forward, and the gallant work is done !
The moat is cleared, so deep and wide, as with a falcon's flight,
And Sir Eppelin is free again, beneath the sun's glad light !

F. L. R.

435

THE SPIRIT OF MODERN ITALIAN ROMANCE.

THE Italians, in the composition of their Novelle, may be said to have
originated in Europe the Romance, a delightful species of literature, en-
tirely unknown to the ancients. Here, as in everything else having
relation to intellect, Italy was the glorious source of that pure stream
under whose fertilizing influence the barbarity consequent on the downfall
of Rome ceased, and Christian civilization and refinement began and gra-
dually prevailed. The early Italian legends and tales, rude indeed,
though ever possessing some interest and amusement, we trace through a
variety of languages. Chaucer, the first of our great poets in point of
time, and not very far off in point of excellence, has immortalized in
English verse some of those transalpine stories. Strange, however, to
say, after the production of the novelle, Italian writers seldom or never,
until recently, applied themselves to romance writing, and, for many cen-
turies, that kind of literature was extinct, or, at least, in complete abey-
ance among them. This probably arose from the facility afforded by
their superlatively harmonious language to the making of verse, and from
their constant inclination to connect poetry with music. Hence those
grand incarnations of imagination and fancy, Tasso, Ariosto, Petrarch,
Dante, Metastasio, left prose to the historian and philosopher, and spoke
their soul-stirring sentiments and narratives in rhythm alone. The epic
reigned first, and lastly the opera, which absorbed everything else, — and
no wonder, for there the measure of the bard had married itself to the
finest harmony that ever fell on human hearing, — the music of Italy,
which at once enchanted the world, and will probably continue to do so
to the end*

" Oh ! it came o'er our ear like the sweet south

That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing and giving odour."

Thus, then, had romance writing ceased to flourish in Italy, until, now
about twenty years ago, Alessandro Manzoni, previously known as a
dramatist of repute, agreeably surprised his country by the production of
an historical romance, which immediately obtained eminent and un-?
bounded success. " I Promessi Sposi," or, " The Betrothed," the
romance in question, was read throughout Italy, and every other polite
nation of Europe, It passed in translations from language to language,
and now that twenty years has elapsed, it is as popular as ever. The
universal and lasting prosperity of this work is indeed somewhat aston-
ishing ; for, though certainly a book of great thought and talent,
41 I Promessi Sposi " can hardly claim a first rank among romances. Its
plot is inartificial and too evident ; its characters have little variety, many
of them closely resembling each other, and its descriptions and details
often run out to an extreme length, and become downright tedious and
prosy. These defects allowed, there still remains much to please and
admire in this romance ; there hangs, we know not how, a charm about
the book. The principal persons of the tale, the blundering honest-
hearted hero, Renzo ; and the lovely and gentle, innocent and confiding
heroine, Lucia, are admirably pictured. Father Christoforo, a worthy
monk, who, by the way, strongly reminds us of our old friend Friar Law-

1 1 2

436 THE SPIRIT Or ITALIAN ROMANCE.

rence, in" Romeo and Juliet ; " and Don Rodrigo, a feudal tyrant, who lias
no little affinity to some of Mrs. Ratclifie's romantic rascals, are, the one good,
and the other bad, much in an ordinary way, and savour of the common-
place 4 but there is a second strange and mysterious villain in the story,
the Unnamed, whose portrait is a novel and striking conception. Yet it
is not in the delineation of character that we must seek the cause of
" I Promessi Sposi's " attraction ; it is more probably in a peculiar quality
it possesses. The writer is of the same country and religion as the per-
sons of his narrative, and hence a power, which, in capable hands, is never
known to fail. Most of the master productions of fiction have had this
advantage ; for example, " Don Quixote," " The Arabian Nights,*"
" Tom Jones," and " The Heart of Midlothian," that chef d'csuvre of Sir
Walter, who was never so great as when his foot was on Scottish ground.
In Italy, especially, where the Church of Rome is pre-eminently ascendant,,
and mingles with, and lives in, every thought, action, and event among the
people, a Catholic native of the country is the person to rightly compre-
hend and convey the attributes and realities of the scene. The very pre-
judice of strangers, particularly where Rome is concerned, interferes with
the truth of their writing. Another reason makes the advantage still
greater with an Italian, for, let him lay his story at what period he may,
things and men have so little changed in Italy, that he finds himself at
home in any age of her modern existence. In proof of what we say, as to
creed and country, take the following description of the lay Capuchin col-
lector, in the " Promessi Sposi," and compare it with the two conventional
forms of fat jollity and lean piety in which monks and friars always appear
in English story. How much more likely and rational is Manzoni's
portrait ! Those who have any knowledge on the subject will at once
admit its perfect correctness : —

" While they were thus engaged in weighing the different sides of the
question, they heard a knock at the door ; and at the same moment a
low but distinct Deo Gratias. Lucia, wondering who it could be, ran
to open it, and immediately, making a low bow, there entered a lay
Capuchin collector, his bag hanging over his left shoulder, and the
mouth of it twisted and held tight in his two hands over his breast.

" * Oh, brother Galdino 1 ' exclaimed the two women. * The Lord be
with you,' said the friar; ' I have come to beg for the nuts.'

' * Go and fetch the nuts for the Fathers,' said Agnese. Lucia arose
and moved towards the other room ; but, before entering it, she paused
behind the friar's back, who remained standing in exactly the same
position ; and, putting her fore-finger on her lips, gave her mother a look
demanding secrecy, in which were mingled tenderness, supplication, and
even a certain air of authority.

" The Collector, inquisitively eyeing Agnese at a distance, said, ' And
this wedding ? I thought it was to have been to-day ; but I noticed a
stir in the neighbourhood, as if indicating something new. What has
happened ? '

" * The Signor Curate is ill, and we are obliged to postpone it,' hastily
replied Agnese. Probably the answer might have been very different,
if Lucia had not given her the hint. * And how does the collection go
on ? ' added she, wishing to change the conversation.

" * Badly, good woman, badly. They are all here.' And so saying, he
took the wallet off his shoulders, and tossed it up between his hands into

THE SPIRIT OF ITALIAN KOMANCE.

the air. ' They are all here ; and to collect this mighty abundance,
I have had to knock at ten doors,'

" * But the year is scarce, brother Galdino ;. and when one has to>
struggle for bread, one measures everything according to the scarcity.'

" ' And what must we do, good woman, to make better times return ?
Give alms. Don't you know the miracle of the nuts that happened many
years age in our Convent of Romagna ? '
" 'No, indeed! tell me.'

** * Well, you must know, then, that in our convent there was a holy
Father, whose name was Father Macario. One day, in winter, walking,
along a narrow path, in a field belonging to one of our benefactors — a
good man also — Father Maeario saw him standing near a large walnut-
tree, and four peasants, with axes upraised, about to fell it, having laid/
bare its roots to the sun. 'What are you doing to this poor tree?' asked
Father Macario. 'Why, Father, it has borne no fruit for many years,,
so now I will make firing of it.' ' Leave it, leave it,' said the Father ;
' be assured this year it will produce more fruit than leaves.' The ben-
efactor, knowing who it was that had uttered these words, immediately
ordered the workmen to throw the soil upon the roots again ; and, calling
to the Father, who continued his walk, said, ' Father Macario, half of
the crop shall be for the convent.' The report of the prophecy spread,,
and every one flocked to see the tree. Spring, in very truth, brought
blossoms without number, and then followed nuts — nuts without num-
ber. The good benefactor had not the happiness of gathering them,,
for he went before the harvest to receive the reward of his charity. But
tire miracle was, in consequence, so much the greater, as you will hear.
This worthy man left behind him a son of very different character..
Well, then, at the time of gathering, the collector went to receive the-
moiety belonging to the convent ; but the son pretended perfect igno-
rance of the matter, and had the temerity to reply, that he had never
heard that Capuchins knew how to gather nuts. What do you think,
happened then? One day (Hsten to this) the knave was entertaining
a party of his friends, of the same genus as himself, and while-making;
merry, he related the story of the walnuts, and ridiculed the friars. His
jovial friends wished to go see this wonderful heap of nuts, and he con-
ducted them to the storehouse. But listen, now ; he opened the door,
went towards the corner where the great heap had been laid, and while
saying, ' Look,' he looked himself, and saw — what do you think? — a
magnificent heap of withered walnut-leaves ! This was a lesson for
him ; and the convent, instead of being a loser by the denied alms, gained
thereby ; for, after so great a miracle, the contribution of nuts increased
to such a degree, that a benefactor, moved with pity for the poor col-
lector, made a present ta the convent of an ass, to assist in carrying the
nuts home. And so much oil was made, that all the poor in the neigh-
bourhood came and had as much as they required ; for we are like the
sea, which receives water from all quarters, and returns it to, be again
distributed through the rivers.'

" At this moment Lucia returned, her apron so loaded with nuts, that
it was with difficulty she could manage it, holding the two corners stretched
out at arm's length, while the friar Galdino lifted the sack off his shoul-
ders, and putting it on the ground, opened the mouth for the reception
of the abundant gift. Agnese glanced towards Lucia a surprised and

THE SPIRIT OF ITALIAN ROMANCE.

reproachful look for her prodigality ; but Lucia returned a glance which
seemed to say, * I will justify myself.' The friar broke forth into
praises, prognostications, promises, and expressions of gratitude, and
replacing his bag, was about to depart. But Lucia, recalling him, said,
* I want you to do me a kindness ; I want you to tell Father Cristofero
that we earnestly wish to speak to him, and ask him to be so good as.
to come to us poor people quickly — directly ; for I cannot go to the
church.'

" * Is this all ? It shall not be an hour before Father Cristofero knows,
your wish.'

" ' I believe you.'

" ' You need not fear.* And so saying, he departed, rather more bur-
thened and a little better satisfied than when he entered the house.

" Let no one think, on hearing that a poor girl sent to ask with such
confidence for Father Cristofero, and that the collector accepted the
commission without wonder and without difficulty —let no one, I say,
suppose that this Cristofero was a mean friar — a person of no import-
ance. He was, on the contrary, a man who had great authority among
bis friends, and in the country around ; but, such was the condition of
the Capuchins, that nothing appeared to them either too high or too
low. To minister to the basest, and to be ministered to by the most
powerful ; to enter palaces or hovels with the same deportment of humility
and security ; to be sometimes in the same house the object of ridicule,
and a person without whom nothing could be decided ; to solicit alms
everywhere, and distribute them to all those who begged at the convent :
— a Capuchin was accustomed to all these. Traversing the road, he
was equally liable to meet a noble who would reverently kiss the end of
the rope round his waist, or a crowd of wicked boys, who, pretending to
be quarrelling among themselves, would fling at his beard dirt and mire.
The word frate was pronounced in those days with the greatest respect,
and again with the bitterest contempt; and the Capuchins, perhaps,
more than any other order, were the objects of two direct opposite senti-
ments, and shared two directly opposite kinds of treatment ; because,
possessing no property, wearing a more than ordinarily distinctive habit,
and making more open professions of humiliation, they exposed them-
selves more directly to the veneration, or the contumely, which these
circumstances would excite, according to the different tempers and differ-
ent opinions of men.'*

The above extract recalls our attention to the further specimens we
would give of Manzoni's romance. The introduction of the heroine, Lucia,
is a beautiful sample of his style : —

" Lucia had just come forth adorned from head to foot by the hands of
her mother. Her friends were stealing glances at the bride, and forcing
her to shew herself; while she, with the somewhat warlike modesty of
a rustic, was endeavouring to escape, using her arms as a shield for her
face, and holding her head downwards, her black pencilled eyebrows
seeming to frown, while her lips were smiling. Her dark and luxuriant
hair, divided on her forehead with a white and narrow parting, was united
behind in many-circled plaitings, pierced with long silver pins, disposed
around, so as to look like an aureola, or saintly glory, a fashion still in
use among the Milanese peasant-girls. Round her neck she had a neck-
lace of garnets, alternated with beads of filagree gold. She wore a pretty

THE SPIRIT OF ITALIAN ROMANCE- 439

boddice of flowered brocade, laced with coloured ribbons, a short gown
of embroidered silk, plaited in close and minute folds, scarlet stockings,
and a pair of shoes also of embroidered silk. Besides these, which
were the special ornaments of her wedding-day, Lucia had the every-
day ornament of a modest beauty, displayed at this time, and increased
by the varied feelings which were depicted in her face : joy tempered by
a slight confusion, that placid sadness which occasionally shews itself on
the face of a bride, and without injuring her beauty, gives it an air pecu-
liar to itself."

Manzoni's descriptions are frequently, when not too long, drawn with.
a master hand. An evening in a village is thus gracefully given : —

" There was, in fact, that stirring — that confused buzz — which is
usually heard in a village on the approach of evening, and which shortly
afterwards gives place to the solemn stillness of night. Women arrived
from the fields, carrying their infants on their backs, and holding by the
hand the elder children, whom they were hearing repeat their evening
prayers ; while the men bore on their shoulders their spades, and dif-
ferent implements of husbandry. On the opening of the cottage doors,
a bright gleam of light sparkled from the fires that were kindled 'to-
prepare their humble evening meal. In the street might be heard salu-
tations exchanged, together with brief and sad remarks on the scarcity
of the harvest, and poverty of the times ; while, above all, resounded
the measured and sonorous tolls of the bell, which announced the close;
of day."

The episode of Gertrude, the signora nun of Monza, is rich in interest
and romance, but too long to extract. We pass on to another portion of
the work, where occurs the best scene of the whole, the interview between-
Lucia and the Unnamed, who, as the mysterious agent of her tyrant
lover, Rodrigo, has carried her by force to his castle : —

" Lucia aroused herself, on feeling the carriage stop, and, awaking from
a kind of lethargy, was seized with renewed terror, as she wildly gazed
around her. Nibbio had pushed himself back on the seat, and the old
woman, with her chin resting 01$ the door, was looking at Lucia, and
saying, ' Come my good girl ; come, you poor thing ; come with me, for
I have orders to treat you well, and try to comfort you/

" At the sound of a female voice, the poor girl felt a ray of comfort — a
momentary flash of courage ;. but she quickly relapsed into still more
terrible fears. * Who are you ? ' asked she, in a trembling voice,, fixing
her astonished gaze on the old woman's face.

" ' Come, come, you poor creature,' was the unvaried answer she;
received, Nibbio, and his two companions, gathering from the words,
and the unusually softened tones of the old hag, what were the inten-
tions of their lord, endeavoured, by kind and soothing words, to persuade
the unhappy girl to obey. She only continued, however, to stare wildly
around; and though the unknown and savage character of the place,,
and the close guardianship of her keepers, forbad her indulging a hope of
relief, she, nevertheless, attempted to cry out; but seeing Nibbio cast a
glance towards the handkerchief, she stopped, trembled, gave a momentary
shudder, and was then seized and placed in the litter. The old woman
entered after her ;- Nibbio left the other two villains to follow behind as
an escort, while he himself took the shortest ascent to attend to the call
of his master.

440 THE SPIRIT OF ITALIAN ROMANCE,

" 'Who are you?' anxiously demanded Lucia of her unknown and
ugly-visaged companion : * Why am I with you? ' Where are you
taking me ? '

" * To one who wishes to do yon good,' replied the aged dame ; ' to
a great .... Happy are they to whom he wishes good ! You are very
lucky, I can tell you. Don't be afraid — be cheerful ; he bid me try
to encourage you. You '11 tell him, won't you, that I tried to comfort
you?r

" ' Who is he ? — why ? — what does he want with me ? I don't belong-
to him ! Tell me where I am T let me go ! bid these people let me go —
bid them carry me to some church. Oh I you who are a woman, in the
name of Mary the Virgin !....'

" This holy and soothing name, once repeated with veneration in her
early years, and now for so long a time uninvoked, and, perhaps, unheard,
produced in the mind of the unhappy creature, on again reaching her
ear, a strange, confused, and distant recollection, like the remembrance of
light and form in an aged person, who has been blind from infancy.

In the meanwhile the Unnamed, standing at the door of his castle, was-
looking downwards, and watching the litter, as before he had watched
the carriage, while it slowly ascended, step by step ; Nibbio rapidly ad-
vancing before it at a distance which every moment became greater.
When he had at length attained the summit, * Come this way,' cried the
Signor ; and taking the lead, he entered the castle, and went into, one of
the apartments.

" ' Well ? ' said he, making a stand.

" * Everything exactly right,' replied Nibbio, with a profound obeisance ;
4 the intelligence in time, the girl in time, nobody on the spot, only one
scream, nobody attracted by it, the coachman ready, the horses swift,,
nobody met with : but .... *

" ' But what ? '

" ' But .... I will tell the truth ; I would rather have been com-
manded to shoot her in the back, without hearing her speak — without
*eeing her face.'

" ' What ? . . . . what ? . . . . what do you mean ? '

" * I mean that all this time .... all this time .... I have felt too
much compassion for her.*

" ' Compassion ! What do you know of compassion ? What is com-
passion ? '

'"I never understood so well what it was as this time ; it is something
that rather resembles fear ; let it once take possession of you, and you
are no longer a man.'

" ' Let me hear a little of what she did to excite your compassion ? '

" * Oh, most noble Signor ! such a time ! . . . . weeping, praying, and
looking at one with such eyes ! and becoming pale as death ! and then
sobbing, and praying again, and certain words .... *

" ' I won't have this creature in my house,' thought the Unnamed,
meanwhile, to himself. ' In an evil hour I engaged to do it ; but I've
promised — I've promised. When she 's far away' .... And raising his
face with an imperious air towards Nibbio, ' Now,' said he, ' you must
lay aside compassion, mount your horse, take a companion — two, if you
like — and ride away, till you get to the palace of this Don Rodrigo, you
know. Tell him to send immediately — immediately — or else . . . . '

THE SPIRIT OP ITALIAN ROMANCE. 441

" But another internal no, more imperative than the first, prohibited his
finishing. * No,' said he, in a resolute tone, almost, as it were, to express
to himself the command of this secret voice. ' No : go and take some
rest ; and to-morrow morning — you shall do as I tell you.'

" * This girl must have some demon of her own,' thought he, when left
alone, standing with his arms crossed on his breast, and his gaze fixed
upon a spot on the floor, where the rays of the moon, entering through a
lofty window, traced out a square of pale light, chequered like a draft-
board by the massive iron bars, and more minutely divided into smaller
compartments by the little panes of glass, — * some demon, or .... some
angel who protects her .... Compassion in Nibbio ! . . . . To-morrow
morning — to-morrow morning, early, she must be off from this ; she must
go to her place of destination ; and she shall not be spoken of again ;
and ' — continued he to himself, with the resolution with which one gives
a command to a rebellious child, knowing that it will not be obeyed —
' and she shall not be thought of again, either. That animal of a Don
Rodrigo must not come to pester me with thanks ; for .... I don't want
to hear her spoken of any more. I have served him because .... be-
cause I promised ; and I promised, because .... it was my destiny.
But I'm determined the fellow shall pay me well for this piece of service.
Let me see a little . . . . '

" And he tried to devise some intricate undertaking, to impose upon Don
Rodrigo by way of compensation, and almost as a punishment ; but the
words again shot across his mind — ' Compassion in Nibbio ! — What can
this girl have done ? ' continued he, folllowing out the thought ; ' I must
see her. Yet, no — yes, I will see her.'

" He went from one room to another, came to the foot of a flight of
stairs, and irresolutely ascending, proceeded to the old woman's apart-
ment : here he knocked with his foot at the door.

" ' Who 's there ? '

" ' Open the door.'

" The old woman made three bounds at the sound of his voice ; the
bolt was quickly heard grating harshly in the staples, and the door was
thrown wide open. The Unnamed cast a glance round the room, as he
paused in the doorway ; and by the light of a lamp which stood on a
three-legged table, discovered Lucia crouched down on the floor, in the
corner farthest from the entrance.

" ' Who bid you throw her there, like, a bag of rags, you uncivil old
beldame ? ' said he to the aged matron, with an angry frown.

" * She chose it herself,' replied she, in an humble tone ; * I've done
my best to encourage her ; she can tell you so herself; but she won't
mind me.'

" ' Get up,' said he to Lucia, approaching her. But she, whose already
terrified mind had experienced a fresh and mysterious addition to her
terror at the knocking, the opening of the door, his footstep, and his
voice, only gathered herself still closer into the corner, and, with her
face buried in her hands, remained perfectly motionless, excepting that
she trembled from head to foot.

" ' Get up ; I will do you no harm — and I can do you some good,' re-
peated the Signer. ' Get up ! ' thundered he forth at last, irritated at
having twice commanded in vain.

**"As if invigorated by fear, the unhappy girl instantly raised herself

442 THE SPIRIT OP ITALIAN ROMANCE.

upon her knees, and joining her hands, as she would have knelt before
a sacred image, lifted her eyes to the face of the Unnamed, and instantly
dropping them, said, * Here I am ; kill me if you will.'

" * I have told you I would do you no harm,' replied the Unnamed, in
a softened tone, gazing at her agonized features of grief and terror.

" ' Courage, courage,' said the old woman ; ' if he himself tells you he
will do you no harm . . . . '

" ' And why,' rejoined Lucia, in a voice in which the daringness of
despairing indignation was mingled with the tremor of fear, ' why make
me suffer the agonies of hell ? What have I done to you ? '

" ' Perhaps they have treated you hadly ? Tell me.'

" ' Treated me badly ! They have seized me by treachery — by force f
Why — why have they seized me ? Why am I here ? Where am I ? I
am a poor harmless girl. What have I done to you ? In the name of
God '

" ' God, God,' interrupted the Unnamed, ' always God ! They who
cannot defend themselves — who have not the strength to do it, must
always bring forward this God, as if they had spoken to him. What do
you expect by this word ? To make me ....?' and he left the sentence
unfinished.

" ' Oh*. Signor, expect ! What can a poor girl like me expect, except
that you should have mercy upon me ? God pardons so many sins for
one deed of mercy. Let me go ; for charity's sake, let me go. It will
do no good to one who must die, to make a poor creature suffer thus.
Oh ! you who can give the command, bid them let me go ! They brought
me here by force. Bid them send me again with this woman, and take
me to * * *, where my mother is. Oh, most holy Virgin f My mother !
my mother ! — for pity's sake, my mother ! Perhaps she is not far from
here .... I saw my mountains. Why do you give me all this suffering ?
Bid them take me to a church ; I will pray for you all my life. What
will it cost you to say one word ? Oh, see ! you are moved to pity : say
one word, oh say it ! God pardons so many sins for one deed of mercy ! '

" ' Oh ! why isn't she the daughter of one of the rascally dogs that
outlawed me ' — thought the Unmanned ; ' one of the villains who wish
me dead ? then I should enjoy her sufferings ! but instead . . . . f

" * Don't drive away a good aspiration^' continued Lucia, earnestly, re-
animated by seeing a certain air of hesitation in the countenance and
behaviour of her oppressor. ' If you don't grant me this mercy, the Lord
will do it for me. I shall die, and all will be over with me ; but you ....
Perhaps some day even you .... But no, no ; I will always pray the
Lord to keep you from every evil. What will it cost you to say one
word ? If you knew what it was to suffer this agony !....'

" ' Come, take courage,' interrupted the Unnamed, with a gentleness
that astonished the old woman. ' Have I done you any harm ? Have I
threatened you ? '

" * Oh, no ! I see that you have a kind heart, and feel some pity for an
unhappy creature. If you chose, you could terrify me more than all the
others : you could kill me with fear ; but instead of that you have rather
lightened my heart ; God will reward you for it. Finish your deed of
mercy : set me free — set me free ! '

" ' To-morrow morning ' —

" ' Oh ! set me free now — now,'

THE SPIRIT OF ITALIAN ROMANCE. 443

" * To-morrow morning I will see you again, I say. Come, in the
meanwhile, be of good courage. Take a little rest ; you must want
something to eat. They shall bring you something directly.'

" * No, no ; I shall die if anybody comes here ; I shall die ! Take me
to a church — God will reward you for that step.'

" * A woman shall bring you something to eat,' said the Unnamed ;
and having said so, he stood wondering at himself how such a remedy had
entered his mind, and how the wish had arisen to seek a remedy for the
sorrows of a poor humble villager.

" ' And you,' resumed he hastily, turning to the aged matron, * per-
suade her to eat something, and let her lie down to rest on this bed ; and
it she is willing to have you as a companion, well ; if not, you can sleep
well enough for one night on the floor. Encourage her, I say, and keep
her cheerful. Beware that she has no cause to complain of you.'

So saying, he moved quickly towards the door. Lucia sprang up, and
ran to detain him and renew her entreaties ; but he was gone.

# * * * * *

" Lucia remained motionless, shrunk up into the corner, her knees
drawn close to her breast, her hands resting on her knees, and her face
buried in her hands. She was neither asleep nor awake, but worn out
with a rapid succession — a tumultuous alternation, of thoughts, antici-
pations, and heart-throbbings. Recalled, in some degree, to conscious-
ness, and recollecting more distinctly the horrors she had seen and
suffered that terrible day, she would now dwell mournfully on the dark
and formidable realities in which she found herself involved ; then, her
mind being carried onward into a still more obscure region, she had to
struggle against the phantoms conjured up by uncertainty and terror.
In this distressing state she continued for a long time, which we would
here prefer to pass over rapidly ; but at length, exhausted and overcome,
she relaxed her hold on her benumbed limbs, and sinking at full length
upon the floor, remained for some time in a state more closely re-
sembling real sleep. But suddenly awaking, as at some inward call, she
tried to arouse herself completely, to regain her scattered senses, and to
remember where she was, and how, and why. She listened to some
sound that caught her ear ; it was the slow deep breathing of the old
woman. She opened her eyes, and saw a faint light, now glimmering
for a moment, and then again dying away : it was the wick of the lamp,
which, almost ready to expire, emitted a tremulous gleam, and quickly
drew it back, so to say, like the ebb and flow of a wave on the sea-shore ;
and thus, withdrawing from the surrounding objects ere there was time
to display them in distinct colouring and relief, it merely presented to
the eye a succession of confused and indistinct glimpses. But the recent
impressions she had received quickly returned to her mind, and assisted
her in distinguishing what appeared so disorderly to her visual organs.
When fully aroused, the unhappy girl recognised her prison : all the
recollections of the horrible day that was fled, all the uncertain terrors
of the future, rushed at once upon her mind ; the very calm in which she
now found herself after so much agitation, the sort of repose she
had just tasted, the desertion in which she was left, all combined to
inspire her with new dread, till, overcome by alarm, she earnestly longed
for death. But at this juncture, she remembered that she could still
pray ; and with that thought there seemed to shine forth a sudden ray

444 TUB SPIRIT or ITALIAN BOMANCF.

of comfort. She once more took out her rosary, and began to repeat
the prayers ; and in proportion as the words fell from her trembling
lips, she felt an indefinite confiding faith taking possession of her heart.
Suddenly another thought rushed into her mind, that her prayer might,
perhaps, be more readily accepted, and more certainly heard, if she were
to make some offering in her desolate condition. She tried to remember
what she most prized, or, rather, what she had once most prized ; for at
this moment her heart could feel no other affection than that of fear,
nor conceive any other desire than that of deliverance. She did re-
member it, and resolved at once to make the sacrifice. Rising upon her
knees, and clasping her hands, from whence the rosary was suspended
before her breast, she raised her face and eyes to heaven, and said, * O
most holy Virgin ! thou to whom I have so often recommended myself,
and who hast so often comforted me ! — thou who hast borne so many
sorrows, and art now so glorious ! — thou who hast wrought so many
miracles for the poor and afflicted, help me t Bring me out of this-
danger ; bring me safely to my mother, O mother of our Lord ; and I
vow unto thee to continue a virgin ! I -renounce for ever my unfortunate
betrothed, that from henceforth I may belong only to thee ! '

" Having uttered these words, she bowed her head, and placed the beads
around her neck, almost as a token of her consecration, and, at the same
time, as a safeguard, a part of the armour for the new warfare to which
she had devoted herself. Seating herself again on the floor, a kind of
tranquillity, a more childlike reliance, gradually diffused themselves over
her soul. The to-morrow morning, repeated by the unknown nobleman,
came to her mind and seemed to her ear to convey a promise of deliver-
ance. Her senses, wearied by such struggles, gradually gave way before
these soothing thoughts ; until at length, towards day-break, and with
the name of her protectress upon her lips, Lucia sank into a profound
and unbroken sleep.

" But in this same castle there was one who would willingly have fol-
lowed her example, yet who tried in vain. After departing, or rather
escaping, from Lucia, giving orders for her supper, and paying his cus-
tomary visits to several posts in his castle, with her image ever vividly
before his eyes, and her words resounding in his ears, the nobleman had
hastily retired to his chamber, impetuously shut the door behind him,
and hurriedly undressing, had lain down. But that image, which now
more closely than ever haunted his mind, seemed at that moment to say ;
' Thou shalt not sleep !' — ' What absurd wromanly curiosity tempted me
to go see her ? ' thought he. ' That fool of a Nibbio was right : one is no
longer a man ! yes, one is no longer a man !....!?.... am I no longer
a man ? What has happened ? What devil has got possession of me ?
What is there new in all this ? Didn't I know, before now, that women
always weep and implore ? Even men do sometimes, when they have not

the power to rebel. What the ! have I never heard women cry

before?'

**#**#

— * I will set her free ; yes, I will. I wilVfly to her by day-break, and
bid her depart safely. She shall be accompanied by .... And my
promise ? My engagement ? Don Rodrigo ? . . . . Who is • Don
Rodrigo ? '

" Like one suddenly surprised by an unexpected _ and embarrassing

THE SPIRIT OF ITALIAN ROMANCE. 445

question from a superior, the Unnamed hastily sought for an answer to
the query he had just put to himself, or rather which had been suggested
to him by th at new voice which had all at once made itself heard, and
sprung up to be, as it were, a judge of his former self. He tried to
imagine any reasons which could have induced him, almost before being
requested, to engage in inflicting so much suffering, without any in-
centives of hatred or fear, on a poor unknown creature, only to render
a service to this man ; but instead of succeeding in discovering such
motives as he would now have deemed sufficient to excuse the deed, he
could not even imagine how he had ever been induced to undertake it.
The willingness, rather than the determination, to do so, had been the
instantaneous impulse of a mind obedient to its old and habitual feelings,
the consequence of a thousand antecedent actions ; and to account for
this one deed, the unhappy self-examiner found himself involved in an
examination of his whole life. Backwards from year to year, from en-
gagement to engagement, from bloodshed to bloodshed, from crime to
crime, each one stood before his conscience-stricken soul, divested of the
feelings which had induced him to will and commit it, and therefore
appearing in all its monstrousness, which those feelings had, at the
time, prevented his perceiving. They were all his own, they made up
himself : and the horror of this thought, renewed with each fresh re-
membrance, and cleaving to all, increased at last to desperation. He
sprang up impetuously in his bed, eagerly stretched out his hand towards
the wall at his side, touched a pistol, grasped it, reached it down, and
.... at the moment of finishing a life which had become insupportable,
his thoughts, seized with terror, and a (so to say) superstitious dread,
rushed forward to the time which would still continue to flow on after
his end. He pictured with horror his disfigured corpse, lying motion-
less, and in the power of his vilest survivor ; the astonishment, the con-
fusion of the castle in the morning : everything turned upside down ;
.and he, powerless and voiceless, thrown aside, he knew not whither.
He fancied the reports that would be spread, the conversations to which
it would give rise, both in the castle, the neighbourhood, and at a distance,
together with the rejoicings of his enemies. The darkness and silence
around him presented death in a still more mournful and frightful
aspect ; it seemed to him that he would not have hesitated in open day,
out of doors, and in the presence of spectators, to throw himself into the
water, and vanish. Absorbed in such tormenting reflections, he con-
tinued alternately snapping and unsnapping the cock of his pistol with a
convulsive movement of his thumb, when another thought flashed across
his mind. — ' If this other life, of which they told me when I was[a boy, of
which every body talks now, as if it were a certain thing, if there be
not such a thing, if it be an invention of the priests ; what am I
doing ? why should I die ? what matters all that I have done ? what
matters it ? It is an absurdity, my .... But if there really be another
life !....'

" At such a doubt, at such a risk, he was seized with a blacker and
deeper despair, from which even death afforded no escape. He dropped
the pistol, and lay with his fingers twined among his hair, his teeth
chattering, and trembling in every limb. Suddenly the words he had
heard repeated a few hours before rose to his remembrance ; — ' God
pardons so many sins for one deed of mercy ! ' — They did not come to

446 THE SPIH1T OF ITALIAN ROMANCE.

him with that tone of humble supplication in which they had been pro-
nounced ; they came with a voice of authority, which at the same time
excited a distant glimmering of hope. It was a moment of relief; he
raised his hands from his temples, and, in a more composed attitude,
fixed his mind's eye on her who had uttered the words ; she seemed to
him no longer like his prisoner and suppliant, but in the posture of one
who dispenses mercy and consolation. He anxiously awaited the dawn
of day, that he might fly to liberate her, and to hear from her lips other
words of alleviation and life, and even thought of conducting her himself
to her mother."

The account of the pestilence at Milan is fine, though inferior to the
plague told by Defoe. In parting with Manzoni, without launching into the
ultra praise of his admirers, we must avow that he has nobly opened a
course where Italians must excel, abounding as they do in genius and
imagination. Already he finds a rival in his pupil Grossi.

Two other writers of fiction, Azeglio Massini and Giovanni Rossini,
have also obtained a reputation. Tomaso Grossi, however, deserves
especial notice. His romance, " Marco Visconti," like the " Promessi
Sposi " of his master and model, Manzoni, has met with unbounded success
in Italy, and has been translated into many European languages. The
work so closely resembles " The Betrothed," that one would suppose it
written by the same author, though, on the whole, it is decidedly inferior
to Manzoni's production. It has most of the same defects ; and though
fcere and there very fine, never reaches the same excellence. The story,
taken from the period of the fierce strife between the Guelphs and the
Ghibellines, is romantic and interesting enough ; the principal character,
Marco Visconti, is drawn with power and skill. We have extracted
Manzoni's portrait of the peasant girl, Lucia : we here, as a specimen of
Grossi's style, g^ive the description of his heroine, Bice, the daughter of a
noble : —

" The maiden, aged sixteen, was like a rose, disclosing all its freshness
and fragrance to the first rays of a soft and dewy morning. A long azure
robe, covered from the girdle to the knee with delicate silver net-work,
imitated the colour of her eyes, but was far from equal to that ethereal
azure, that heavenly lustre. The profusion of her fair tresses, fine and
brilliant as gold thread, was only confined by a wreath of flowers, alter-
nately silver and azure like her robe, and the perfumed locks fell in luxuri-
ance over her neck and shoulders, down to the very hem of her garments.

" The native sweetness and innocence which shone upon the face of this
fair girl were slightly tinged with reserve, and her glance of pride and self-
will was combined with gentleness, adding a certain dignity, charm, and
expression to those beautiful features, which became them well.

" Bice walked into the midst of the hall, having on one side her father,
and on the other Ottorino ; and a low whisper, and a murmur of admi-
ration, followed her on the way, She saw all eyes turned upon her ; she
heard the remarks made all round her ; she partly understood, and partly
guessed, the words uttered by the crowd ; and looking down timidly, her
face became tinged with a deep carnation. But what could she do when
the buffoon, bending one knee before her, and taking'off his cap, proclaimed
her, in a loud voice, The Queen of Love and Beauty ? Overcome, confused,
and really touched by too strong a feeling of modest dignity and bashful-
ness, Bice clung still more closely to her father, and besought him to take

THE SPIRIT OP ITALIAN ROMANCE. 447

her away, and dismiss and silence the man. Count del Balzo, however,
was too much pleased at his daughter's triumph ; and very far from
listening to her entreaties, he led her to a seat at the upper end of the hall,
placed himself on her right, and made Ottorino a sign that he should place
himself on the other side. After returning with courtesy the salutations
he received from the knights there assembled, the Count turned to the
minstrel, and, with noble condescension, he apologised for the interruption
his arrival had caused to the song, and begged him to proceed.

"' I will sing you another,' said Tremacoldo. Then, leaning his head
on his hand, he slowly paced a few times through the space left for him in
the centre of the hall, while the audience disposed themselves around him
in a circle : afterwards, lifting up his head, he began to sing the praises of
Bice. After comparing her to the lily of the valley, to the rose of Jericho,
to the cedar of Lebanon ; after ranking her above all the beautiful sultanas
who then adorned the harems of Egypt and Persia; above all the noble ladies
and princesses most highly extolled by the troubadours of Provence in their
lays, he placed her beside the lady to whom the verses of Petrarca were dedi-
cated, preparing that fame which after five centuries is fresher and brighter
than ever, and he promised to the beauty of the Larian Lake the same singer
as the beauty of Avignon ; a man not more than twenty-five years old at
that time, but already celebrated in Italy as the first of her poets.

" Finally, making the young knight who sat beside Bice the subject of
his verse, he praised his race, his qualities, his prowess, and ended by
saying, that the two of whom he had sung set off one another just as a
gem in a ring."

Such then is the actual state of fiction in Italy ; but more will come of
it, we are sure : the Italians never strive in literature or art, but they excel ;
the glorious sun above them, the beautiful land around them, and the warm
and imaginative souls within them, will lead to their ruling in the realms
of romance, as they have already done, with power imperial, in the regions
of poetry and music.

448

AN EXTRACT FROM THE UNPUBLISHED BULKELEY MSS.

. . . . " SIR RICHARD BULKELEY served in Parliament for thet county
of Anglesey the second and third sessions of Queen Mary, the third of
Elizabeth, and first of James.

" He was of goodly person, fair of complexion, and tall of stature. He
was temperate in his diet — not drinking of healths. In his habit he
never changed his fashion, but always wore round breeches, and thick
bumbast doublets, though very gallant and rich. In the last year of
Queen Elizabeth, being then somewhat stricken in years, he attended the
council of Marches at Ludlow, in winter time. When the Lord President
Zouch went in his coach to church or elsewhere, Sir Richard used to ride
on a great stone horse ; and sometimes he would go from his lodging to
church in frost and snow on foot, with a short cloak, silk stockings, a great
rapier and dagger, tarry all prayers and sermon in very cold weather,
insomuch that Lord Zouch was wont to say he was cold to see him. He
was a great reader of history and discourses of all estates and countries ;
of very good memory and understanding in matters belonging to house-
keeping, husbandry, maritime affayres, building of ships, and maintaining
them at sea. He drew his own letters with his own hand : and being
complayned of at the Council of the Marches, far breach of an order of
that court, he drew his own answer, — that he co^ not be convicted out of
his own possession but by course of common law, pleaded Magna Charta,
•and demanded judgment. Which answer being put into court, the Chief
Justice, Sir Richard Shuttle worth, called for a sight thereof, and after
perusal said to the counsellors of the bar, " Look, my masters, what a
bone Sir Richard Bulkeley hast cast into court for you to tire upon." And
the matter being agreed, it was referred to the common law. He was a
great housekeeper and entertainer of strangers, especially such as passed
to and from Ireland. He nobly entertained the Earl of Essex in his way
there to be Lord- Lieutenant. He made provision of all necessaries for his
table beforehand. He sent yearly to Greenland for codling and other
fish, which he did use to barter in Spain for Malaga and sherry wines ;
and always kept a good stocke of old sack in his cellar, which he called
Amabile, beside other wines. He kept two parkes well stored with red
and fallow deer, w0*1 did afford such plenty of venison as furnished his
table 3 or 4 £imes every week in the season, beside pleasuring of friends.
He kept several farms, beside his demesne in his hands, wch furnished
his house with fat beef, mutton, lamb, &c. &c. He was an excellent house-
man, and an expert tiller, keeping two great stables of horses — one in
Cheshire, and another in Beaumaris — and a great stud of mares. His
estate in Anglesey was 2500Z., in Carnarvonshire SOOZ., and in Cheshire
1000Z. a year, having always a great stock of ready money lying in his
chest. He kept many servants and attendants, tall and proper men.
Two lacqueys in livery always ran by his horse. He never went from
home without 20 or 24 to attend him. He was a great favorite of Queen
Eliz. He had powerful friends at Court, and had the gentry and com-
monalty of the co. of Anglesey at his service, except the Woods of
Rhosmore, who were always his enemies. He had great contests with
Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who obtayned the Queen's letters patents

AN EXTRACT FROM THE BULKELEY MANUSCRIPTS. 449

under the great seal, to be chief ranger of the Forest of Snowdon, in wch
office he behaved very injuriously to the counties of Merioneth, Carnar-
von, and Anglesey, attempting to bring within the bounds and limits of
that forest most of the freeholders' lands in those 3 counties ; and for
that purpose the Earl procured several commissions from the Queen, to
inquire of encroachments and concealments of lands. The return of the
jury in Anglesey not being agreeable to the Earl's commissioners, they
went in a rage to Carnarvon, forcibly entered the exchequer there, ram-
sacked the records, and carried away what they pleased ; but the Earl,
after making many attempts, to the great grievance of the county, was
obliged to desist, being defeated in all schemes upon Snowdon by the
power, and interest, and spirit of Sir Richd Bulkeley. But manet alt&
mente repostum. The Earl bore a poysonous hatred to Sir Richd, yet he
continued still in favour with the Queen and council, though often molested
by the Earl, his agents, and creditors.

" Sir Richard being one of the Deputy Lieutenants of Anglesey (upon
intelligence of the Spanish Armada threatening England), was to cesse
the country in arms; and cessing Mr. Woods, of Rhosmore, he was
highly offended, and thought himself too heavily loaded, therefore went
up to Court, to the Earl of Leicester, carrying a false tale with him, that
Sir Richd Bulkeley (a little before the attainder and execution of Tho8
Salusbury, one of the accomplices of Anthy Babington the traytor, 1585)
had been in the mountains of Snowdon, conferring with him, and that
at a farm of Sir Richard's, called Curaligie, they had lain together two or
three nights. The Earl, glad of this information, presently acquaints the
Queen and council therewith. Sir Richd, being called before the council
and examined, absolutely denied the whole matter ; and when the Earl, at
the time President of the Queen's Council, did severely inforce it ag* him.
He told the Earl to his face, — ' Your father, and the very same men as
now inform against me, were like to undo my father ; for upon the death
of K. Edw. 6, by letters from your father, he was commanded to pro-
clayme Queen Jane, and to muster the country, which he did accordingly ;
and had not my mother been one of Queen Maries maids of honor, he
had come to great trouble and danger.' Hearing these words, the council
hushed and rose, and Sir Richd departed. The Earl hastened to the
Queen, and told her the council had been examining Sir Richd Bulkeley
aboutv matters of treason, that they found him a dangerous person, and
saw cause to commit him to the Tower, and that he dwelt in a suspicious
corner of the world. 'What! Sir Richd Bulkeley?' said the Queen.
4 He never intended us any harm. We have brought him up from a boy,
and have had special tryal of his fidelity. You shall not comit him.'
' We,' said the Earl, ' who have the care of your Majesty's person see
more and hear more of the man than you do. He is of an "aspiring mind,
and lives in a remote place.' * Before God,' replyed the Queen, ' we
will be sworn upon the Holy Evangelists he never intended us any
harm ; ' and so ran to the bible, and kissed it, saying, ' You shall not
comit him — we have brought him up from a boy.' Then the lords of
the council wrote a letter to Dr. Hugh Bellot, Lord Bishop of Bangor, to
examine the truth of the accusation layd to Sir Richd>s charge, which the
Bishop found false and forged, and so certifyed to the council. Where-
upon he was cleared to the Queen's Majesty's great content, to the
abundant joy of his country, and to his own great credit and reputation ;

VOL. IV. NO. XIX. K K

450 AN EXTRACT FROM THE BULKELEY MANUSCRIPTS.

and afterwards divers of the lords of the council wrote letters to the
justices of assize of North Wales, to publish Sir Bichd>s wrongs, and to
notify to the Queen's subjects his clear innocence. But that Sir Richd
might not rest in peace, one Green, belonging to the Earl of Leicester, in
the name of one Bromfield, a pensioner, came to him to challenge him
to meet Bromfield in the field. ' Have you no other errand ? ' quoth
Sir Richard. * No ! \ says Green. Then Sir Richd drew his dagger, and
broke Green's pate, telling him to carry that as his answer, he scorning
to meet such a knave as Bromfield. This treatment of Green highly
increased the anger of the Earl. Bromfield, Green, and other of his
retayners, plotted mischief to the person of Sir Richd ; but he stood upon
his guard, always keeping twenty-four stout men with swords, bucklers,
and daggers, to defend him from their attempts. They hired boats and
wherries upon the Thames, with a design to drown Sir Richd as he sh<*
go from Westminster to London ; but he, being privately informed
thereof, borrowed the Lord Mayor of London's barge, furnished it with
men, muskets, billets, and drums, and trumpets, and rowed along the
Thames, shot the bridge, and went down to Greenwich, where the Queen
kept her Court at that time ; and at the landing place over against the
palace, he caused his company to discharge their muskets, to beat their
drams, and sound their trumpets. The Earl of Leycester hearing
thereof, repaired to the Queen, and informed her that Sir Richd Bulkeley,
more like a rebel than a subject, had come with barges, muskets, men,
drums, and trumpets, and had shot several pieces over against her
Majesty's palace, to the great terror of her Court — a matter not to be
suffered. The Queen sent for Sir Richd, and after hearing his apology
for himself, made the Earl friends with him. Within a while after the
Earl sent for Sir Richd to his chamber, who coming thither, the Earl
began to expostulate with him on several wrongs and abuses he pretended
to have received at his hands, and that he had lost 10,000 by his
opposition. But the discourse ended in milder terms, and Sir Richd was
bidden to dinner, but did eat or drink nothing save of what he saw the
Earl taste, — remembering Sir Nic* Throgmorton, who was said to have
received a fig at his table.

"But the Earl of Leycester dying in Oct. 1588, Sir Richd Bulkeley and
his country enjoyed peace and quietness from his tyrannical oppressions,
his devices, and wicked practices. And Sir Richard survived to the 28th
of June, 1621, when he died, aged 88.

" He had attended the coronation of ye Queens Mary and Elizabeth, and
of James the First. His cloak at this last coronation cost £500."

451

A FACT IN HERALDRY.
BY THE AUTHOR OF " PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY^'

HIGH in Battle's antlered hall,
Ancient as its Abbey wall,
Hangs a helmet brown with rust,
Cobwebed o'er, and thick with dust ;
High it hangs 'mid pikes and bows,
Scowling still at spectral foes ;
Proud and stern with vizor down.
And fearful, in its feudal frown.

When I saw, what ailed thee, heart 1
Wherefore should I stop and start ?
That old helm with that old crest
Is more to me than all the rest —
Battered, broken, tho' it be,
That old helm is all to me.

Yon black greyhound know I well,
Many a tale hath it to tell —
How in troublous times of old
Sires of mine, with bearing bold ; —
Bearing bold but much mischance,
Swayed the sword or poised the lance,

Much mischance, desponding still,
They fought and fell, foreboding ill ;
And their scallop, gules with blood,
Fessed amid the azure flood,
Shewed the pilgrim slain afar
O'er the sea in holy war.

While that faithful greyhound black
Vainly watched the wild boar's track ;
And the legend, and the name,
Proved all lost but hope and fame
Tout est perdu fors 1'honneur
Mais " L'Espoirest ma. force" sans peur.

KK 2

452

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.

No. XV. — THE TRIAL OF MUNGO CAMPBELL FOB SHOOTING LOUD EGLINGTON.

THE unfortunate nobleman who was the victim in this melancholy
affair, was Alexander Montgomerie, tenth Earl of Eglington, who suc-
ceeded to the title in 1729, and who perished by the hand of Campbell
the 25th October, 1769. The Earldom of Eglington is one of the oldest
and the most distinguished in Scotland. Its present representative,
Archibald Hamilton, Earl of Eglington and Winton, .is the thirteenth
earl.

Mungo Campbell, who committed the act, was a descendant of the
noble family of Argyle, and was born at Ayr, in Scotland, in the year
1721. His father, who was a merchant of eminence, had been mayor of
the town, and a justice of peace ; but, having twenty- four children, and
meeting with many losses in his commercial connexions, it was impossible
for him to make any adequate provision for his family ; so that, on his
death, the relations took care of the children, and educated them in the
liberal manner which is customary in Scotland. Mungo was protected
by an uncle, who gave him a good education ; but this friend dying when
the youth was about eighteen years of age, left him sixty pounds, and
earnestly recommended him to the care of his other relations. The young
man was a finished scholar ; yet seemed averse to make choice of any of
the learned professions. His attachment appeared to be to the military
life, in which line many of his ancestors had gloriously distinguished
themselves. He entered himself as a cadet in the royal regiment of
Scotch Greys, then commanded by his relation, General Campbell, and
served during two campaigns at his own expense^ in the hope of gaining
military preferment. After the battle of Dettingen, at which he assisted,
he had an opportunity of being appointed quarter-master, if he could have
raised one hundred pounds ; but this place was bestowed on another
person, while Campbell was making fruitless applications for the money.
Thus disappointed of what he thought a reasonable expectation, he
quitted the army, and went into Scotland, where he arrived at the junc-
ture when the rebels had quitted Scotland, in 1745. Lord London then
had the command of the Royal Highlanders, who exerted so much bravery
in the suppression of the rebellion. Mr. Campbell being related to his
lordship, fought under him with such bravery as did equal credit to his
loyalty and courage.

Not long after the decisive battle of Culloden, Lord Loudon procured
his kinsman to be appointed an officer of the excise ; and prevailed on
the commissioners to station him in the shire of Ayr, that he might have
the happiness of residing near his friends and relations. In the discharge
of this new duty, Mr. Campbell behaved with strict integrity to the
Crown, yet with so much civility, as to conciliate the affections of all
those with whom he had any transactions. He married when he was
somewhat advanced in life ; and so unexceptionable was his whole con-
duct, that all the nobility and gentry in the neighbourhood, the Earl of
Eglington excepted, gave him permission to kill game on their estates.

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY. 453

However, lie was very moderate in the use of this indulgence, seldom
shooting but with a view to .gratify a friend with a present, hardly ever
for his own emolument. He had a singular attachment to fishing j and
a river in Lord Eglinton's estate affording the finest fish in the country,
he would willingly have angled there ; but his lordship was as strict with
regard to his fish as his game.

Being one day in search of smugglers, and carrying his gun, he was
crossing part of Lord Eglinton's estate, when a hare starting up, he shot
her. His lordship hearing the report of a gun, and being informed that
Campbell had fired it, sent a servant to command him to come to the
house. Campbell obeyed, and was treated very unkindly by his lord-
ship, who even descended to call him by names of contempt. The other
apologized for his conduct, which he said arose from the sudden starting
of the hare, and declared that he had no design of giving offence. A man
named Bartleymore was among the servants of Lord Eglington, and was a
favourite of his lordship ; this man had dealt largely in contraband goods.
Mr. Campbell, passing along the sea-shore, met Bartleymore with a cart,
containing eighty gallons of rum, which he seized as contraband, and the
rum was condemned, but the cart restored, as being the property of Lord
Eglinton. Bartleymore was now so incensed against Campbell, that he
contrived many tales to his disadvantage, and at length engaged his lord-
ship's passion so far, that he conceived a more unfavourable opinion of
him than he had hitherto done ; while Campbell, conscious that he had
only discharged his duty, paid little or no attention to the reports of his
lordship's enmity. About ten in the morning of the 24th of October,
1769, Campbell took his gun, and went out with another officer with
a view to detect smugglers. The former took with him a license for
shooting, which had been given him by Dr. Hunter, though they had no
particular design of killing game. They now passed a small part of
Lord Eglinton's estate, to reach the sea-shore, where they intended to
walk. When they arrived at this spot it was near noon ; and Lord
Eglinton came up in his coach, attended by Mr. Wilson, a carpenter,
who was working for him, and followed by four servants on horseback.
On approaching the coast, his lordship met Bartleymore, who told him
that there were some poachers at a distance. Mr. Wilson endeavoured
to draw off his lordship's notice from such a business, but Bartleymore
saying that Campbell was among the poachers, Lord Eglinton quitted
his coach, and, mounting a led horse, rode to the spot, where he saw
Campbell and the other officer, whose name was Brown. His lordship
said, " Mr. Campbell, I did not expect to have found you so soon again on
my grounds, after your promise, when you shot the hare." He then de-
manded Campbell's gun, which the latter declared he would not part
with. Lord Eglinton now rode towards him, while Campbell retreated
with his gun presented, desiring him to keep at a distance. Still, how-
ever, his lordship advanced, smiling, and said, " Are you going to shoot
me ? " Campbell replied, " I will, if you do not keep off."

Lord Eglinton now called to his servants to bring him a gun, which
one of them took from the coach, and delivered it to another, to carry
to their master. In the interim, Lord Eglinton, leading his horse,
approached Mr. Campbell, whose gun he demanded ; but the latter
would not deliver it. The peer then quitted his horse's bridle, and con-
tinued advancing, while Campbell still retired, though in an irregular

454 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

direction, and pointed his gun towards his pursuer. At length, Lord
Eglinton came so near him, that Campbell said, " I beg your pardon,
my lord, but I will not deliver my gun to any man living, therefore keep
off, or I will certainly shoot you." At this instant, Bartleymore ad-
vancing, begged Campbell to deliver his gun to Lord Eglinton ; but the
latter answered, he would not, for he had a right to carry a gun. His
lordship did not dispute his general right, but said, that he could not have
any to carry it on his estate, without his permission. Campbell again
begged pardon, and still continued retreating, but with his gun in his
hand, and preparing to fire in his own defence. While he was thus
walking backwards, his heel struck against a stone, and he fell, when he
was about the distance of three yards from his pursuer. Lord Eglinton
observing him fall on his back, stepped forward as if he would have
passed by Campbell's feet, which the latter observing, reared himself on
his elbow, and lodged the contents of his piece in the left side of his
lordship's body. At this critical juncture the servant above-mentioned
brought the gun from the coach, and Campbell would have wrested it
from his hands, but that Bartleymore came up just at the very moment ;
and at this moment Lord Eglinton, putting his hand to his wound, said,
" I am killed."

A contest now ensued, during which Bartleymore repeatedly struck
Campbell ; which being observed by Lord Eglinton, he called out, " Do
not use him ill." Campbell being secured was conducted to the wounded
man, then lying on the ground, who said, •' Mr. Campbell, I would not
have shot you ;" but Campbell made no answer. Lord Eglinton's seat
was about three miles from the place where this fatal accident happened ;
and his servants put him into the carriage to convey him home. In the
mean time Campbell's hands were tied behind, and he was conducted to
the town of Saltcoats, the place of his former station as an exciseman.
The persons who conducted him asked him several questions, the answers
to which were afterwards very ungenerously adduced on his trial, as col-
lateral evidence of his guilt. Among other things, he acknowledged that
he would rather part with his life than his gun, and that sooner than have
it taken from him, he would shoot any peer of the realm.

Lord Eglinton died, after languishing ten hours. Mr. Campbell was,
on the following day, committed to the prison of Ayr, and the next
month removed to Edinburgh, in preparation for his trial before the High
Court of Justiciary ; previous to which his case was discussed by counsel,
and the following arguments were adduced in his favour: —

" First, That the gun went off by accident, and therefore it could be no
more than casual homicide.

" Secondly, That supposing it had been fired with an intention to kill,
yet the act was altogether justifiable, because of the violent provocation
he had received ; and he was doing no more than defending his life and
property.

" Thirdly, It could not be murder, because it could not be supposed
that Mr. Campbell had any malice against his Lordship, and the action
itself was too sudden to admit of deliberation."

The counsel for the prosecution urged in answer —

" First, That malice was implied, in consequence of Campbell's pre-
senting the gun to his Lordship, and telling him, that unless he kept off
he would shoot him.

THE ABISTOCEACY. 455

" Secondly, That there was no provocation given by the Earl besides
words, and words must not be construed a provocation in law.

" Thirdly, The Earl had a right to seize his gun, in virtue of several
acts of Parliament, which are the established laws of the land, to which
every subject is obliged to be obedient."

After repeated debates between the lawyers of Scotland, a day was at
length appointed for the trial, which commenced on the 27th of February,
1770, before the High Court of Justiciary; and the jury having found
Mr. Campbell guilty, he was sentenced to death.

The Lord Justice Clerk, before he pronounced the solemn sentence,
addressed himself to the convict, advising him to make the most devout
preparations for death, as all hopes of pardon would be precluded, from
the nature of his offence. Through the whole course of the trial the
prisoner's behaviour was remarkable for calmness and serenity ; and when
it was ended he bowed to the court with the utmost composure, but said
not a single word in extenuation of his crime,

On his return to the prison he was visited by several of his friends,
among whom he behaved with apparently decent cheerfulness. After
they had drunk several bottles of wine they left him, and he retired to his
apartment, begging the favour of another visit from them on the following
day; but in the morning, February 28, 1770, he was found dead, hanging
to the end of a form, which he had set upright, having fastened a silk
handkerchief round his neck.

Mr. Gait makes the sad fate of Lord Eglinton form a portion of the
story contained in his " Annals of the Parish."

456

THE CLUBS OF LONDON.*

THE club of ancient times, such as we have been describing it, exists
no longer, or only amongst the middling or lower classes. The aristoc-
ratic combination of our days, which is so called, is a club in name only,
if the word is to be interpreted by what it was used to signify in its
origin, and through a long course of years up to a very recent period.
Formerly, as we have just seen, it meant a social meeting of a select few,
held at stated intervals, and at some public tavern, whereas now it has
lost every one of these attributes. Some of these modern assemblages are
exclusively confined to members of the army and navy, others to University
men, others again to travellers, this to Conservatives, and that to Reformers ;
but in all, a certain degree of wealth, and a certain status in society, seem to
be the indispensable conditions of admission. Then, too, each club has its
own proper mansion built at its own cost, with every accommodation that
luxury can demand, and invention, bribed to the utmost, can supply.
Without, they present some of the best specimens of modern architecture ;
within, they are palaces for velvet-shod Sybarites.

Upon entering the hall or lobby of the club-house, you find it tenanted
by the hall-porter, who is seated at a desk, and an assistant servant, their
business being to receive messages, answer inquiries, and take care that
no unauthorized persons gain admission. It is their duty also to take in
letters, and keep an account of the postage ; and, for the farther dispatch
of this part of the business, there is a letter-box, into which the various
missives are dropped, and which is only opened upon the arrival of the
carrier from the regular receiving-houses. In many of the clubs, two or
three liveried lads are kept in waiting, chiefly for the purpose of convey-
ing messages from visitors to any of the members. Should the stranger
wish to see his friend, there is a reception-room close to the hall, where
he may wait, provided his appearance should seem in the eyes of the
attendants to justify so much respect : but the old Roman proverb holds
good here as well as elsewhere — " Non cuivis contingit adire Corinthum,"
or, according to the fashion of your garments are the chances of your
gaining admission into the reception-room of a club-house. Stulz,
Nugee, and Buckmaster, with their satellites, are the chief granters of
passports into English society ; their certificate being as indispensable in
London as the ministerial passport is to the traveller upon the continent.
Various doors, opening from the vestibule, lead to the several apart-
ments upon the ground-floor, each of which has its peculiar object and
designation. The first to be noticed is the morning-room, where the mem-
bers meet to write letters and read the journals, which, in most of the
clubs, are taken in with very little choice or restriction, except where a
strong party feeling may operate to the exclusion of any journal. The
" Dispatch," for instance, would hardly find its way into the morning-
room of the Conservative ; but such exceptions are very rare, and, in
general, this matter is conducted with the utmost liberality. Even sta-
tionery is supplied to the members without stint or limit ; and we remem-
ber to have heard of a certain popular author, now deceased, that he was
in the habit of writing his novels at his club.

' Continued from p. 353.

THE CLUBS OF LONDOSf. 457

The coffee- room differs in nothing, but its superior elegance, from the
same apartment in any fashionable tavern. Rows of small tables project
from each side, leaving a wide open space up the middle, for the conve-
nience of passing to and fro. These are laid for breakfasts and luncheons
from a rather late hour in the morning till four o'clock, when, in stage
phrase, the scene is struck, and the usual arrangements are made for din-
ner. Here the member, who may wish to dine, is duly supplied with a
carte de jour, or, in plain English, with the daily bill of fare, from which
he has the same privilege of selection that he would have at any tavern,
and with the certainty that whatever he orders will be the best of its
kind, and cooked in the first style of cookery. The attendants upon him
are numerous and well-chosen. First, there is the butler, whose duty it
is to provide him with wine ; next there is the head-waiter, whose princi-
pal business is to take care that his assistants promptly attend to the
wants of the feasters, and duly supply the required dishes, which are
wound up from below by a sort of sideboard, called " a lift," very much
after the fashion of that described by Sir Walter Scott in his " Peveril of
the Peak," where Chiffinch gives the excellent supper to Julian and his
companion. Whether the romance suggested the contrivance to the
clubbists, or the clubbists taught it to the romancer, verily this deponent
saith not, nor is it of much consequence. Lastly, there is a clerk to
make out the bills and keep the various accounts, who, upon some occa-
sions, had need to be quick both of hand and eye.

Such being the appliances, the member, who intends dining there, fills
up a form of dinner-bill with the dishes that he has selected from the
carte de jour. This is immediately forwarded by the head-waiter in
attendance to the clerk of the kitchen, when the latter marks the esta-
blished price to each dish, adding a charge of sixpence, or in some clubs,
of a shilling, for table-money, the object of which is to defray the expenses
contingent upon bread, butter, cheese, potatoes, table-ale, and other minor
necessaries of the table. When the bill has been thus filled up, it is sent
back to the coffee-room, and the butler adds to it his charge for whatever
wine may have been drunk, after which it is handed over to the coffee-
room clerk, who sums it up, and receives the amount from the member.
In this way an excellent dinner, exclusive of the wine, may be had for
little more than half-a-crown — a very moderate outlay, if we consider that
the meal is not only of the first kind in itself, but is served up with every
luxurious accompaniment. In addition to this, the member dining at his
club is infinitely more independent than he could be at any tavern ; he
has not to buy the civility of greedy waiters, nor has he to drink more
than is agreeable to himself for the benefit of the house, as is for the most
part expected by superior tavern-keepers Then, too, he may have com-
pany, or be alone, at his option — an advantage beyond all price, and which
he cannot command in any public coffee-room. To carry out this arrange-
ment, a dining-room is provided on the ground-floor, wherein from six to
a dozen members may dine together, precisely as they would do at the
private house of any one of them, and with every chance of having a
much better dinner without the trouble or expense. The affair is thus
managed : — printed forms are left in the coffee-room, to which those who
choose to join the house-dinner, as it is called, subscribe their names ; but
in this case no allowance is made for the Aberdeen man's privilege of
" taking his word again ; " whoever once puts his name to this prandatory

458 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

requisition, may indeed choose whether he will, after all, dine there or
not, but in any case he must pay his share of the reckoning, which in
general amounts to seven and sixpence a head. These dinners, however,
do not take place unless at least six, and in some clubs eight, members
have announced their purpose of joining in them.

We now ascend the stairs, and come into the drawing-room. This is
for the most part elegantly, nay, superbly furnished; but it is thinly
tenanted, for what is a drawing-room without ladies ? It is their peculiar
domain, and the few congregated in their lonely palace seem like so many
mourning widowers. Things look much better in the library that is next
to it. There coat and waistcoat seem to be in their proper element again,
and the expenditure, which is lavish, is no more than what is right and
proper. A resident librarian is in attendance, every accommodation being
afforded to the reader, and we may form a pretty correct average of the
resources at his command, when we hear that in 1844 the books in the
Athenaeum amounted to twenty thousand three hundred, the accumulated
result of donations, and of a fund set apart for that purpose. In the club
just named, this sum is said to be five hundred pounds annually, exclusive
of the money devoted to periodicals.

A card-room stands in some houses next to the library, but games of
pure chance are forbidden under pain of expulsion, and even at whist no
stake is allowed beyond half-guinea points.

We must now ascend to the third story, where we shall find one billiard-
room, if not more, attended by a marker. For this, as well as for cards.
a separate charge is made, upon the very obvious and rational ground that
it would be unfair to make the non-players pay for the extra expenses
entailed by this part of the establishment. Twelve of the clubs allow
smoking-rooms, which are, as they ought to be, the worst-looking part of
the whole building.

So complicated a machine as a club of this kind, it will be easily sup-
posed, must require some management to keep it in order and motion.
For this purpose it is usual to confide the direction of affairs to a com-
mittee of thirty or forty, as the case may be, selected from the general
body. Of these from three to eight form a quorum, which meets once a
week to regulate matters of finance, to appoint tradespeople, to engage or
dismiss servants, to inquire into and redress any complaints that may be
made by members, and to superintend all new elections. The general
committee has duties scarcely less onerous ; it has to prepare the annual
reports and statements of account, which are afterwards printed for the
satisfaction of those belonging to the club, who may like to look into
affairs. But these duties have been found too numerous and too heavy
for any one set of men, acting in a body, to discharge them. The general
committee therefore divides itself into various sub-committees, each having
its own especial business to attend to. Thus the " house-committee "
takes upon itself the charge of household affairs ; the " book-committee "
manages the library, all works being approved by it before they can be
admitted, and from the same source must emanate the orders for their
purchase ; the " wine-committee " chooses the wines, superintends the
cellarage, and directs the distribution at table ; it is composed of sage and
experienced bibbers, men well versed in all vinous mysteries, and as little
liable to be imposed upon in these grave matters as any one of the tasters
at the London Docks. In those clubs which have billiard-rooms — and

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 459

this is universally the case — there is also a billiard-committee, consisting
of those who are most skilful in the mysteries of the game. A secretary
is appointed to assist these various boards, one of his duties being to con-
duct the official correspondence of the club. The minor details are
carried on by servants, the chief of whom is the " house-steward," and he
regulates the rest of the domestics ; in some clubs he is helped by a
" superintendent," who in that case has the care of the drawing-room
floor, it being his business to see that the writing and reading-rooms are
properly supplied with stationery. The chief cook is generally a foreigner
of eminence in the culinary art, and he has for helps one male assistant
and a troupe of kitchen maids. Next to him must be ranked the house-
keeper, who has under her superintendence all the invisible females of
the establishment, respectively officiating as housemaids, a needle- woman,
and a still-room maid, whose duty it is to make the tea and coffee.
Taking the Reform Club and the Garrick, with the Naval Club, as the
two extremes, we shall find that the number of domestics varies from
fifty-six to eleven ; but most of these establishments subscribe to some
hospital, either in money or in kind — such as old linen, &c. — that their
servants may be received into them in cases of chronic or prolonged dis-
eases. Where the ailment is of a temporary nature, a medical man in
the pay of the club attends, and also supplies medicines. The broken
victuals are distributed to the poor under the direction of the parish
authorities, and this may be reckoned amongst the greatest of the benefits
conferred by such institutions on society at large.

Such is the modern club, a sort of private retaurateur's, with the advan-
tages of good wine, good food, respectful attendance, and moderate prices.
Much has been said of the disadvantages attendant upon them ; but as all
of them, being twenty-two in number, are quite full, and, in some instances,
with thousands of expectant candidates on the list, it seems quite plain
that their utility or their agreeableness must fully counterbalance anything
that can be said against them. Their names are as follow : —

White's. Carlton.

Brookes's. Reform.

Boodle's. Conservative.

The Union. Athenaeum.

Alfred. Senior University.

Arthur's. Oxford and Cambridge.

Senior United Service. Wyndham.

Junior United Service. Parthenon.

The Army and Navy. Erecthaeum.

Travellers'. Garrick.

Oriental. The Law.

Of those that have had their day of fashion and popularity, but exist no
longer, we may mention the Cocoa Tree, Graham's, Wateir's (the favourite
resort of the Prince of Wales), the Albion (dissolved in 1841), and the
Clarence.

The mode of admission is by ballot. In some, one negative in ten ex-
cludes the candidate ; in others, a single black ball is sufficient — the most
absurd of all regulations. The admission fee varies from its highest point
of <£32 11s. to five guineas, while the annual subscription is in most clubs
six guineas, in the lowest five ; and in none does it go beyond ten.

4(JO THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

But it is not our intention to dwell on these minor details. We purpose,
instead, while briefly alluding to each club, to notice a few of their peculiar
characteristics, and record a few anecdotes of their principal members,
•when these for the most part have passed away.

And, first, of another club, possibly still extant, forming, like the Beef
Steak Club, an intermediate link between the old and the modern order —

THE KING or CLUBS.

When the Beef Steak Club had begun to fall into desuetude, and literary
associations were either extinct, or had not yet been resuscitated, as in the
Athenaeum and some of the foundations of modern days, a club under this
ambitious title was established by the celebrated BOBUS Smith, in union
with Sir James Mackintosh, Lord Henry Petty (now Marquis of Lans-
downe) and a few men of like refinement, for the purpose of uniting
intellectual pursuits with social enjoyment. It assembled on a Saturday in
each month, at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand ; but though Bobus —
the name which the late Robert Smith, formerly Advocate-General in
Calcutta, received at school and retained through life — concentrated almost
the whole powers of a club in himself, and the celebrated " Conversation
Sharpe " was a member, it never attracted especial attention. The late
Lord Holland, Sir Samuel Rogers, the banker, Mr. James Scarlet (after-
terwards Lord Abinger), and several other men of rank and ability belonged
to it ; yet all their efforts failed to raise it into notoriety. It was perhaps
somewhat too literary to suit the habits of the times. By a strange coin-
cidence too, its greatest members had failed in the House of Commons, so
that celebrity in the club became by no means an enviable distinction.
Bobus himself had but once ventured to speak in that fastidious assembly,
and failed, retiring a maimed and crippled disputant from the encounter ;
and Sharpe, though more successful, by no means realized the anticipations
entertained of him. Even Mackintosh, with far higher powers, failed ; being
to the last rather a vague essayist than an apt debater. He was, besides,
shortly afterwards removed to the Recordership of Bombay ; and the joke ran
round, that the governor (the late eccentric Jonathan Duncan) having,
in his politeness, offered them the use of his suburban seat on their
arrival, Sir James and his lady had retained possession so long, in the sup-
position that it was their own, that on the expiration of a year he was under
the necessity of sending his gardeners to rob the orchard, with the view of
giving them a hint, — it being explained to them, when they made the ex-
pected complaint, that the apples as well as the premises were his. Lord
Erskine was also a member, but he formed no exception to the list of par-
liamentary failures, any more than Lord Kenyon, whom he used to quiz for
having presided at the Rolls, and at Nisi Prius for twelve years in the
same identical pair of black velvet breeches. It was here that Erskine
used, in his egotism, to recount his early triumphs, and here also that,
amidst his utter desertion, he occasionally resorted in his ultimate decline.
Here it was he recounted his dismissal from the Prince of Wales's household
for accepting a brief from Thomas Paine. Yet Windham, a high aristo-
crat, justified him on the occasion, and said in reference to the bold demo-
crat's celebrated passage: " Mr. Burke pities the plumage " (alluding to the
French court) " but he forgets the dying bird : " "I could," as Pierre
says, " have hugged the greasy rogue, he pleased me so."

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 461

It was one of the peculiarities and advantages of the ulub, that strangers
could be admitted to it as honorary members, and impart as well as re-
ceive amusement. Amongst those so introduced was Curran, the celebrated
Irish orator. His first appearance disappointed expectation, and he long
remained obstinately mute ; but towards the end of the evening he at last
*' came out; " and, finding himself amongst more congenial spirits, pro-
posed as a toast, " All absent friends," with an especial reference to Lord
Avonmore, an absent Irish judge, who then sat by his side. When the toast
was drunk, he quietly informed his lordship, that they had just drank his
health ; and the peer, whose mind had been for an hour in nubibus, re-
turned thanks for the compliment, as if it had been seriously proposed.
The judge, however, when on the bench, had his revenge. An ass chanc-
ing to bray in the middle of one of Curran's forensic speeches : " Stop,
stop," he cried, " Mr. Curran ; one at a time." But if the retort is to be
credited, he had little reason to congratulate himself. The same sound
being heard in the course of his lordship's summing-up, he looked inquir
ingly at the bar. "The echo of the court, my lord," is said to have been
Curran's reply.

The celebrated Lord Ward also occasionally visited the King of Clubs,
to which he was introduced by Mr. Rogers, the poet banker, on whom,
however, he frequently pressed with unmerciful severity. Mr. Rogers's
appearance in those days by no means denoted the venerable age he has
since attained ; he was, in fact, by his warmest friends looked upon as
"booked." Returning from Spa on one occasion, he remarked that the
place was so full that he could not even find a bed. " Dear me," said Ward,
" was there not room in the churchyard ? " On another evening Mr.
Murray, the publisher, on a visit to the club, remarking that a portrait of
Rogers, then exhibiting, was " done to the life; " " to the death you mean,"
was his lordship's reply. And " Why don't you keep your hearse, Sam ?
you can well afford it," formed his salutation to the poet, who at that
moment chanced to enter the room.

But his lordship was then hastening to that mental cloud which event-
ually obscured his intellect ; and neither his sallies, nor those of the mem-
bers or occasional visitors could preserve the King of Clubs from that fate
which awaits upon everything human; and though it survived till 1830, we
believe that this regal institute is now defunct.

POLITICAL CLUBS.

The clubs of a political order, had their origin even before those
already described, and may be considered as founded on a more lasting
basis than any, inasmuch as they unite the antiquity of the old with
the advantages of the present system, and have existed, we believe,
from the days of Dryden downwards — We allude to BBOOKES'S and
WHITE'S. And first, of

BROOKES'S,

though White's is, if we mistake not, its senior, it has existed ever since the
era of the famous coffee-houses recorded in the Spectator, Tatler, and other
publications in the days of Addison, receiving its name from a celebrated

402 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

host of the period, who, for reasons approved and apparent, earned a
popularity so great and deserved, that even one of his customers commem-
orated him as —

" The generous Brookes, whose honest, liberal trade,
Delights to trust, and blushes to be paid."

Such a man was of course a treasure in his day, as he would be at the
present, and possibly might have been in any. The wits of the oppo-
sition accordingly flocked around him, though doubtless without surmis-
ing that his liberal designation would ever have been applied to their
politics ; and their representatives have ever since remained faithful to
the spot. It is the head- quarters of the Whigs, as White's was of
Toryism, and for upwards of a century maintained its supremacy. Lat-
terly, however, since the institution of the Reform, Carlton, and Con-
servative Clubs, both of these bodies have assumed a position less
decidedly political, and Brookes's, in this respect, no longer occupies
the important post which, during the latter part of the past and earlier
years of the present century, it maintained, when its dictum was decisive ;
and to be a member of Brookes's was to be a person of distinction. It
differs also from the modern clubs, along with its compeer and another
almost equally venerable — Boodle's — in being the property of an indi-
vidual instead of a joint-stock body ; the members, according to the old
constitution of the club, merely meeting together and affixing the prices
for which the accommodation, &c. are to be provided by the host ; though
this, at the present day, is possibly a fiction too, the club being to all
intents and purposes conducted like the others.

But the constitution and present position of Brookes's are both unim-
portant compared with what the club formerly was, especially during the
last quarter of the past century and first dozen years of the present, when
Its members formed a sort of imperium in imperio, and almost constituted
or could overturn a government ; as may be readily inferred when it is
mentioned that the names of Fox, Burke, Grenville, Windham, Grey,
and Sheridan were to be found amongst their number.

Of the first of these eminent statesmen, whose joyous temperament
led him to pass the greater part of his leisure hours at the club, few anec-
dates, connected with Brookes's, now survive. Though highly convivial,
and a wit of the highest order, Fox rather brilliantly discoursed than
indulged in bon mots; and his conversation, however sprightly, was, on
most occasions, rather that of a philosopher than a wit. His acuteness
of observation, depth of thought, and almost universality of knowledge,
rendered him — we speak in the highest sense of the word — the oracle of
the club, and his bonhommie and beneficence were not less esteemed ;
yet few anecdotes connected with him at Brookes's now possess point
sufficient for our pages, and the sharp stinging hits and repartees of
Selwyn, his early contemporary, will perhaps at the present day be more
appreciated. We may judge, however, what the powers of Fox and his
great master Burke, in rejoinder were, when it is mentioned that neither
Selwyn nor Sheridan ever ventured to attack them, or, if they did, that
they invariably came off second in the encounter.

Selwyn was indeed the prime wit of the early part of Fox's career, as
Sheridan was towards its close ; but, unlike either Fox or Sheridan, all
he said conveyed a barb along with it, though generally employed in
scourging folly or pretension. Meeting an inflated personage, the son

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 463

of a stable-keeper, who had been appointed a Commissioner of Taxes by
the influence of the famous Duke of Queensberry, and was giving him-
self ridiculous airs at Brookes's, " So, Mr. Commissioner, you 've been
installed, have you ?" said George. " Yes, sir," replied the other, "and
without taking a single step in the matter." " I believe you, sir," re-
Joined Selwyn, " Reptiles can neither walk nor take steps; nature ordained
them to creep."

Brookes's was by no means exclusive. A Sir Robert Macraith, who
had been several years a waiter at the " Cocoa Tree," — a famous house
in earlier days — and obtained a considerable fortune by marriage, was a
member. One evening, when the " Cocoa Tree" was in the mart, he
jestingly announced his intention of purchasing it, and changing the
name to " Bob's Coffee House," by way of speculation. " Right," said
Selwyn, it will be Bob without, and robbing (Robin) within." To the lady
of the knight, whose father had been a usurer or pawnbroker, it is recorded
that he was still more severe. She had shewn him through a number
of gaudy apartments, decorated with still more gaudy pictures, and at
last conducted him to a room still more gorgeous, where there was none.
" Here," said the lady, " I intend to hang up my family." " I thought,"
replied the wit, " they had been hung up long ago."

Selwyn was indeed a connoisseur in the matter of hanging. It was one
of his horrid foibles to have a taste for being present at the shocking
spectacle of an execution, and no opportunity, whether in town or coun-
try, was ever neglected by him. His morbid curiosity even led him to
Paris on one occasion, when all the provincial executioners of France were
assembled, either with the view of rendering the scene more impressive,
or of witnessing some new experiment that was about to be made of
a drop. George arrived breathless just after the executioner of Lyons,
and the Paris functionary in ecstacy took him for the official of London,
who had arrived express to witness the performance. " Monsieur de
Londre ? " said he, coming forward to express his exalted sense of the
compliment : " No," replied George, " I am only an amateur ; but should
have no objection to practice on a gentleman of your address."

Selwyn's wit was often of a coarse order. It was on his return from
this excursion that a general officer who had served in the American war,
after taunting him for his peculiar bad taste, turned the conversation by
describing some hot and cold springs in Virginia, so contiguous that he
had only to pull a trout out of the one and throw it into the other to get
cooked. "1 believe you," said Selwyn, " for when I was lately in
France I heard of a third spring in Auvergne, containing parsley and
butter"

" Mr. Selwyn," said the general, " consider the improbability — parsley
and butter ! "

"I ask your pardon," replied George, "I believed your story ; you
surely are too polite to discredit mine."

This reminds one of an anecdote of Fdote the dramatist. He had called
one day on Garrick, and heard the great actor instruct his servant to say
that he was " not at home." Indignant with the denial, Sam limped off,
and, the next time the other visited him, bawled from the top of the
stairs that he was " out of town." *' How can you say so," replied
Garrick, " don't I hear you." " I believed you the other day," rejoined
Sam, " and it will be hard if you don't believe me."

464 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

To return to Selwyn anilBrookes's, however, Selwyn was one evening
at the club, when the Duke of Queensberry, in reference to the late Mr.
Whitbread who was then pressing the ministry hard, remarked — " The
brewer is making a desperate lunge at popularity." " Pardon me, Duke,"
said Selwyn, " he is only playing at carte and tierce.

It was shortly after this period, when the famed Corresponding Society
was in full vigour, that Selwyn was one May-day walking with Fox, as
a troop of chimney-sweepers, in their gaudy trappings, appeared in view.
" I say, Charlie," remarked the wit, " I have often heard you talk of the
majesty of the people, but I never before saw any of their princes and
princesses."

The Prince of Wales and Duke of York frequently, about this period,
visited Brookes's ; the former from congeniality of political opinion with
the members, the other in consequence of his being well received, when
he, one midnight or morning, in company with some of the roues
of the day, burst open its doors by way of lark. The Prince was
a joyous spirit, fully equal to most of them in point of story and
repartee ; and the Duke is supposed to have drawn from his visits inspir-
ation for the only good thing he ever said in his life : " Here, waiter,
remove this marine," was the unfortunate slip he made, in allusion to an
empty bottle, one day in the presence of General Miller, a distinguished
officer of that branch of the service, at a dinner in Greenwich. " I am at
a loss," noticed the General, " to know why the corps to which I have the
honour to belong should be compared to an empty bottle ? " " No
offence, my dear General," replied the Duke ; " I mean a good fellow
who has done his duty already, and is prepared to do it again."

Another celebrated character who frequented Brookes's in the days of
Selwyn, was Dunning, the famous counsellor, afterwards Lord Ashbur-
ton, and many keen encounters passed between them. Dunning was a
short, thick man, with a turn-up nose, a constant shake of the head, and
latterly a distressing hectic cough — but a wit of the first water. Though
he died at the comparatively early age of fifty-two, he amassed a fortune
of £150,000 during twenty-five years' practice at the bar ; and lived, not-
withstanding, so liberally, that his mother, an attorney's widow, some of
the wags at Brookes's wickedly recorded, left him in dudgeon on the
score [of his extravagance. Sheridan, especially, a more congenial wit
than Selwyn, who now appeared upon the scene, was wont humourously
to depict a dinner at the lawyer's country-house near Fulham, when the
following conversation was represented to have occurred : —

" John," said the old lady to her son, after dinner, during which she
had been astounded by the profusion of the plate and viands, — '^Jolm, I
shall not stop another day to witness such shameful extravagance."

" But, my dear mother," interrupted Dunning, " you ought to consider
that I can afford it : my income, you know — "

" No income," said the old lady impatiently, " can stand such shameful
prodigality. The sum which your cook told me that very turbot cost,
ought to have supported any reasonable family for a week."

" Pooh, pooh ! my dear mother, " replied the dutiful son, " you would
not have me appear shabby. Besides what is a turbot ? "

" Pooh, pooh ! what is a turbot ? " echoed the irritated dame ; " don't
pooh me, John : I tell you such goings-on can come to no good, and
you'll see the end of it before long. However, it shan't be said your

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 4 Of)

mother encouraged such sinful waste, for I'll set off in the coach to
Devonshire to-morrow morning."

" And notwithstanding," said Sheridan, " all John's rhetorical efforts,
to detain her, the old lady kept her word."

Despite of Dunning's celebrity and success as a barrister, he stood,
like most great lawyers, in wholesome fear of the law himself. A neigh-
bouring farmer on one occasion cutting down two of the trees on his
premises, Dunning's butler, a zealot, informed him of the trespass, and
added, that he had threatened the delinquent with a law-suit. " Did
you indeed ? " said his master ; " then you must carry it on yourself, for
you may depend on't I shan't," — keeping in view, probably, the declara-
tion of the celebrated counsellor Marriot, who at the close of a long and
successful forensic career, announced that if any one were to claim the
coat on his shoulders and threaten him with a law-suit in the event of
refusal, he would at once give it up, lest in defending the coat he lost his
other garments too.

Selwyn and Dunning entertained no especial regard for each other.
For medicine as well as law, the supercilious wit entertained su-
preme contempt. One evening the counsellor and a Dr. Brocklesby
were moralizing on the superfluities of life, and the needless wants men
created for each other. " Very true, gentlemen," said George, " I am a
proof of the justice of your remark ; for I have lived all my life without
wanting either a lawyer or physician."

He was, however, at the period becoming unusually bitter. He had
been brought in haste from the Continent by a rumoured change of
ministry, by which he might lose his place. But his wit preserved it.
Appearing at Court next day — a cold day in the middle of March — in
light habiliments, the King remarked them and the incongruity. " Very
true, Sire, they are cold ; and yet I assure your Majesty I have been in
a violent perspiration ever since my arrival in England."

It was during this tour he sarcastically remarked to an old French
Marquis, who was expatiating on the genius of his countrymen in invent-
ing ruffles. — " True, but mine surpass them, for they added shirts."
And it was said that a young, and titled, but very giddy lady, asking
him if she did not look very young ? " Yes," he replied, " as if you had
just come from boarding-school ; but it is to be hoped that in a year or
two you will be able to read, write, sit, stand, walk, and talk."

Sheridan, however, was now eclipsing Selwyn at Brookes' s, though he
had not effected an entrance without considerable difficulty. Selwyn
perseveringly black-balled him, under the impulse of aristocratic preju-
dices, as, it was said, he would have black-balled George the Third
himself, had he not been able to shew quarterings for four generations,
and it required the interposition of the Prince of Wales to baffle the
opposition. Even then, George was rather circumverted than fairly
beaten. The Prince arriving one evening arm-in-arm with Sheridan, when
the ballot was for the third time to take place, summoned the cynical wit
from the room on pretext of having some important circumstances to
communicate, and along with Sheridan detained him so long that the
ballot had been concluded in the interval. Selwyn, old and morose,
growled for a while ; but ultimately the wit of Sheridan prevailed,
and before the evening expired he bade him cordially welcome.

The bon mots recorded of Sheridan at Brookes's are almost innumer-

VOL. iv. — NO. xix. i- i>

4G6 THE CLUBS or

able. He had scarcely been installed \\hen Whitbread was one evening
declaiming against ministers for imposing the war tax on malt; and
Sheridan, though he concurred in opinion, cuuld not resist the temptation
of having a hit at the brewer, as Mr. "W nitDre^d was named. Taking out
his pencil, therefore, he wrote the folio v»mg uistich on a slip of paper —
a proof that his humour was not, as Moore would lead us to infer, always
previously prepared : —

" They 've raised the price of table drink ;
What is the reason, do you think?
The tax on malt ys the cause I hear —
But what has malt to do with beer ? "

Neither high nor humble were at this time spared by his effervescence.
Meeting the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York one day in St. James's
street, as he was leaving the portico : " We 've just been discussing,
Sherry, said the Duke, " whether you are rogue or fool." " I am be-
tween both, your Royal Highness," he replied, taking an arm of each be-
fore passing on.

Between Selwyn and Sheridan there was kept up a perpetual banter.
In his later days George had become attached to " the gentlemanly vice of
avarice," but still retained a passion for personal decoration, " Can any-
thing be more reasonable ? Can you conceive how they could have let me
have it so cheap," said he in his dotage ; displaying a waistcoat he had
purchased at Charing cross. " Very easily," replied Sheridan; " they took
you for one of the trade, and sold it you wholesale."

A friend of Selwyn's had sent a manuscript tragedy to the manager,
intimating that Cumberland the dramatist had offered to contribute a
prologue, and expressing hope that Sheridan himself would supply the
epilogue : " It will never come to that, my dear sir ; trust me, you may
depend on *t," was Richard Brinsley's flattering reply.

Yet he was sometimes mortified on the score of his own plays. Lord
Kenyon, especially, fell fast asleep in the middle of the high-sounding
speech which Rolla addresses to his followers in Pizarro. Sheridan, who
piqued himself much on its inflated sentiment, was somewhat mortified on
first learning his lordship's drowsiness ; but he soon recovered his usual
good humour; adding, " Ah, poor man ! I dare say he thought he was on
the bench."

Yet sometimes he received a hit himself. Selwyn, in revenge for the
waistcoat rub, used to narrate an anecdote of Sheridan's attempting to bam-
boozle a city tailor out of a suit of clothes. " You 're an excellent cut ;
you beat our West-End snips hollow, my friend." was George's reported
speech ; " why don't you push your thimble among us — I'll recommend
you everywhere — Your work does you infinite credit" &c. &c., were amongst
others of Sheridan's argument ; but all to no avail ; the city man drily
remarking : " Yes, my work brings me credit, and the wearers ready
money ; " on hearing which the intended patron beat an immediate retreat.

It was when returning from some city excursion, that Sheridan encoun-
tered the celebrated Brummel in Fleet Street, who loudly expressed his
horror on being discovered east of Temple Bar ! Sheridan, too, at first
was incredulous on beholding him in such a latitude ! " You ! come from
the east," he said; " impossible ?" " Why, my de — ar Sa — ar," drawled the
Beau. " Because the wise men come from the east," was Sheridan's reply.
" So then, sa — ar, you think me a fool ?" demanded Brummel, with mor

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 467

energy than usual. " By no means," replied Sheridan, moving off, " I
know you to be one! "

Poor Sheridan himself, however, sometimes got fearful rubs. He unwit-
tingly on one occasion, addressing Home Tooke, who had shortly before pub-
lished his celebrated " Portraits of Two Fathers and Two Sons " (the Earl
of Chatham, Mr. Pitt, Lord Holland, and Mr. Fox) said : " So, sir ! you
are the reverend gentleman who I am told draws portraits for amusement.'1'
4t Yes, sir," replied the stern democrat , " and if you '11 do me the favour of
sitting for yours, I '11 draw it so faithfully that even you yourself will
shudder."

In the house, too, he was beginning to be received with inattention.
Entering a committee room one day, not even a chair was offered him ;
and he vainly attempted to conceal his mortification by exclaiming, " Will
no gentlemen move that I may take the chair? " Gifford of the Quarterly
shortly afterwards began to press him hard ; though Sheridan, in return,
struck pretty keenly when, in reference to the editor's boasted power of
distributing literary reputation, he remarked, "he has done it so profusely
as to have left none for himself.1' It was in vain that he attempted to raise
a laugh when an Irish member, somewhat elevated, was one day called to
order for addressing the Speaker, " My dear Mr. Speaker," by explaining
that " the honourable member was perfectly in order, as, thanks to the
ministers, everything now-a-days was dear." Lord Henry Petty (the
Marquis of Lansdowne) shortly afterwards proposed his celebrated tax upon
iron, in allusion to which another member at Brookes's said it would have
been better to impose it on coals : " Hold, my dear fellow," exclaimed
Sheridan, " that would have been out of the frying-pan into tine fire : " and
the Whigs being soon ejected subsequently, in consequence of their contem-
plated removal of the Catholic disabilities, he made his noted remark of
their having " raised up a wall for the purpose of running their heads
against," in the bitterness of his disappointment on being compelled to
follow them from office. The rejection from Stafford followed, giving rise
to some severe but doggrel impromptus, which he keenly felt; *• and the
last sad scene of all quickly succeeded, but into this we have no inclina-
tion at present to follow him.

The celebrated, or rather notorious, " Fighting Fitzgerald " was also a
member of Brookes's ; yet only for a night, and that solely in consequence
of having forced his way into the club after having been unanimously black-
balled. But into his eventful history we have not space to enter.

With this we shall conclude our notice of Brookes's, adding, however,
that the materials afforded by its twelve or fifteen hundred members
are almost inexhaustible. We have said fifteen hundred, because the
club a few years ago consisted of this number ; but now, in consequence
of the many modern establishments that have sprung up in the
neighbourhood, it has possibly become less numerous. It is still, how-
ever, one of the most recherche of all; the Liberal members of both.

* One of thes:1, which annoyed him, was the following:—

" Since none with a pen will trust me but a goose,
And paper of all kinds I've little now to use,
To the verses writ by me, you may swear if you will,
If inscribed on the back of a wine- merchant's bill ;
But obserre, should there be a receipt at the end on't,
Try again, there not Sherry' & poetry depend ont"

LL2

468 THJB CLUBS OF LONDON.

Houses of Parliament belong to it, and a single black-ball at a ballot
being, we believe, sufficient to exclude a candidate from its portals.

WHITE'S.

This club, as already mentioned, is coeval with, if not superior in antiquity
to, Brookes's ; the original " Master White," by whom or whose patrons
it was founded, being a renowned hote of one of the old chocolate houses
in the days of Queen Anne; and its celebrated bow-window being then
as famous and favourite a fashionable lounge as now. It formed the
head- quarters of the Tories, as the other did of the Whigs ; but at the
present day it is even less political than Brookes's — and many members
we believe are now common to both — is less numerous than the other,
and also affords a less ample field for anecdote ; the members of the
party being, as remarked by Sir Walter Scott, of a less convivial cha-
racter than the Whigs — with whom, it may be noticed, Sir Walter him-
self always preferred to indulge when inclined for a symposium.

Yet White's has been the scene of many a bel esprit. Generations of
wits have traversed its portals, and the gay and the fashionable still
gaze from its windows, as their predecessors gazed a century and a half
ago. Mimy a bright spirit has in the interval shot up, blazed or
flickered for a moment, and been extinguished for ever; as, doubtless,
many another will, when the present fleeting race itself has passed.
Of its early records, no memorial is now possibly existent ; but towards
the end of the last and beginning of the present century — in the days
of Pitt, Dundas, Rose, and Canning — it witnessed many a convivial scene ;
less, however, than its rival, for though some there — Dundas especially —
were congenial as any, Pitt's whole life was literally devoted to his country,
and, when at any time he indulged in recreation, it was rather at the
private residence of a friend, than in any fashionable assemblage or
political club. His mind, too, was so constantly intent on national affairs,
that in company, if not what is termed " absent," he was apt to revert un-
consciously to the subjects of the morning, as at night he retired only
to dream of the labours of the ensuing day.

Fox, on the other hand, his great opponent, was never in an element
more congenial than amid the pleasures of society ; and hence when he
retired to Brookes's, after the Parliamentary labours of the night, it was
the custom of his rival to repair to the residence of Dundas (afterwards
Lord Melville) for an hour or two before finally betaking himself to the
solitary habitation, which the famous Duchess of Gordon designated
" Bachelor's Hall." The anecdotes of him recorded at White's are con-
sequently rather of a reflected nature, and bear reference less to the place
perhaps than to the House of Commons, for which it may be said Pitt
lived and died.

Yet one or two of the anecdotes, if not good, are characteristic — especially
one in reference to Rose, who, if Fox is to be credited, was always put for-
ward when any assertion of unusual boldness or unusual gravity became
necessary. It was on one of these occasions when Pitt himself, somewhat
'* fresh," was electrified by the magnificence of George's assumption.

"Now listen," said he, "George is going to tell a d d lie," as the

other rose up with a solemn aspect, and his hand placed impressively on
his breast ; and " Splendid ! Is not he magnificent ? " was the additional

THE CLUBS Or LONDON. 469

exclamation, as the orator called on " the Ruler of the universe and the
Searcher of hearts " to bear witness to his words.

An other story had for its hero Dundas, and possibly also was tinged by
opposition tone. Dundas, though popular with the higher classes, was
by no means in equal estimation with the lower order of his countrymen
in the northern division of the island ; and it was during one of his visits
to Edinburgh that the adventure occurred. Some act of government had
recently given offence in Scotland, and to none more so than to a knavish
tonsor of the city, whose services Mr. Dundas had occasion to call into
requisition. The fellow was a practical jester too, and determined to
amuse himself at the minister's expense. The statesman accordingly had
no sooner resigned himself to the operator's hands than the following
colloquy ensued.

" We 're much obliged to you, Mr. Dundas, for the part you lately took
in London."

" What ! you a politician ? I sent for a barber."

" Oh, yes ! I '11 shave you directly ;" and, performing the operation on
one side, he suddenly drew the back of the instrument across his victim's
neck, exclaiming, " Take that, ye traitor ! " and hurried down stairs.

The statesman was naturally alarmed ; an outcry was raised ; and half
the faculty in the town were speedily in attendance, when, on removing his
hand, which Mr. Dundas had firmly kept to his throat, it was discovered
that the blood flowed from some artificial means which the impudent
rogue had employed to give effect to his hoax, and that not a scratch was
visible. The fellow consequently escaped unpunished ; and his triumph
was the greater as Mr. Dundas had the mortification of being laughed at,
as well as of having to pay for the zealous medical attendants.

Pitt highly relished this anecdote, though it long remained a tender
subject with Lord Melville ; at whose expense, however, the great
minister frequently enjoyed a laugh, and uttered the only mot of which he
has ever been accused.

" How is it," said some one, on the occasion of a convivial visit to
White's, " that the upper side of the sirloin is called the Scotch ? "

" Can't say," replied Dundas, to whom the interrogatory was ad-
dressed.

"I '11 tell you why," interrupted Pitt, " 'tis because the Scotch always
prefer the side that 's uppermost."

Our limits, however, warn us, for the present, to have done ; and we
shall conclude with merely mentioning

BOODLE'S,

The last of the three clubs now surviving, identified with a name,
and nominally the property of an individual, though governed, like the
preceding, by a committee. Its origin is almost equally ancient with
theirs, and, like them, it owes its name to an ancient host ; but who the
venerable Boodle was, our readers now would have little curiosity to
learn.

Like the others, it is situated in St. James's street, and is of unpre-
tending aspect compared with some of the lordly modern edifices in its
vicinity ; but it boasts of highly agreeable arrangements within, and is
frequented chiefly by old country gentlemen of no particular shade of
politics.

(To be Continued.}

470

THE ROYAL HOUSES OF EUROPE.
ITALY.

" Sed neque Medorum sylvse, ditissima terra,
Nee pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Hermus,
Laudibus Italiae certent : non Bactra neque Indi,
Totaque thuriferis Panchaia pingu's arenis.
Hie gravidae fruges et Bacchi Massicus humor
Implevere ; tenent oleaeque, armentaque laeta.
Hie ver assiduum, atque alienis mensibus sestas.
Adde tot egregias urbes, operumque laborem,
Tot congesta manu praeruptis oppida saxis,
Fluminaque antiques subter labentia muros.
Salve, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus
Magna virum." VIBGIL.

No history is so mournful as that of Italy during the last three hundred
years — a period of national decadence unprecedented in the annals of
the world — a state of shame and misery that has justified the pathetic
lamentations of her sons and the triumphant insolence of her foes.
May the patriotic feeling which now spreads its beneficent influence over
the country of the Tiber and the Arno increase in strength and power,
and may the nineteenth century be memorable in ages to come, as the
grand era of Italian regeneration !

" Italy ! through every other land
Thy wrongs should ring, and shall, from side to side ;
Mother of Arts ! as once of arms; thy hand
Was then our guardian, and is still our guide ;
Parent of our Religion ! whom the wide
Nations have knelt to for the keys of heaven !
Europe, repentant of her parricide,
Shall yet redee;n thee, and, all backward driven,
Roll the barbarian tide, and sue to be forgiven.*'

At the close of the fifteenth century Italy presented the aspect of more
extensive and unalloyed prosperity than any other nation of Christendom.
Then were displayed the learned grace of Leonardo da Vinci, the brilliant
accomplishments of Titian, and the creative genius of Michael Angelo.
Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting attained the highest perfection, and
Civilization gazed with rapture on the exquisite achievements and
sujblime conceptions of the Peninsula. Flourishing cities, increasing
manufactures, arts revived, letters encouraged — all combined to form, at
this epoch, the dazzling amount of Italy's prosperity. But the very
circumstance to which she owed this superiority may be regarded as the
principal cause of her subsequent degradation. " The number of separate
and independent communities," says a distinguished writer, " into which
Italy was divided, by directly associating her inhabitants with the
governments of their respective cities, and making them feel that their
own interests were identified with those of the community to which they
belonged, powerfully excited their passions, and called forth all their
energies. Those powers which had been dormant for centuries were

THE ROYAL HOUSES OF EUROPE.

471

again revived ; Milan, Florence, Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, became the
capitals of so many free states, distinguished by their wealth and their
progress in the arts ; eloquence, poetry, history, architecture, painting,
and every other pursuit that could either add to the comfort or the em-
bellishment of society, were prosecuted with vigour and success. But
this state of society, though it gave a powerful impulse to civilization,
was also productive of the most implacable animosities. The disputes
among the rival republics and their limited territory, and their deeply
affecting every individual, were prosecuted with all the eagerness of a
personal and all the rancour of a political quarrel. Sismondi's great
work (" Republiques Italiennes du Moyen Age") is chiefly filled with
accounts of these conflicts. And such a state of society, how incom-
patible soever with the enjoyment of peace and tranquillity, unquestion-
ably affords a fine field for the development of superior talent and mental
energy. Unfortunately the contests between the different parties in Italy,
ended as such contests almost always do, by making it an arena for the
struggles and subjecting it to the arms of foreigners. German, French,
and Spanish troops, after being engaged in supporting the pretensions of one
or other of the rival states, turned their arms against those they had
supported, or who had invited them into their country, and trampling
on their liberties, imposed on them new and despotic masters. Ever
since the subversion of the Florentine republic in 1580, the Italians have
ceased to exercise any perceptible influence over the deliberations of their
multitudinous rulers. Parceled out among foreign sovereigns, or sove-
reigns descended from foreigners, what interest could they feel in the
contests of the Bourbons of Parma and Naples ; the Austrians of Milan
and Mantua, and the Lorrains of Tuscany ? They were not only deprived
of their ancient liberties, but the constant state of vassalage in which
their petty sovereigns were themselves held by the great transalpine
powers, prevented their acting in conformity either with the wishes or
the real interests of their subjects."

At the present moment, when Europe watches with intense interest
the development of the movement that has originated in the Vatican, and
when England, forgetful of the illiberal estrangement that has so long
separated her from the Court of Rome, affords the all-powerful weight
of her sympathy to the sacred cause of Italian liberty, we feel assured
that some details of the existing Royal Houses of Italy will not be
deemed inappropriate.

The Peninsula is at this time divided into the following independent
States : — SAKDINIA, NAPLES AND SICILY, THE AUSTRIAN KINGDOM OF
LOMBARDY, THE PAPAL TERRITORY, THE GRAND DUCHY OF TUSCANY,
THE DUCHIES OF PARMA, MODENA, AND LUCCA, and the little republic
of SAN MARINO.

This kingdom comprises the whole
of North Italy, west of the Tessino,
including Piedmont, Genoa and Nice,
the adjacent Duchy of Savoy and the
Island of Sardinia, in the Mediter-
ranean. Its dynasty is the House

of Savoy, claiming descent from the
famous Wittekend, and tracing a
long and illustrious line of ancestry.
Its territory, originally a county, was
erected into a Duchy by the Emperor
Sigismund, in 1416, in favour of

472

AMADEUS VIII. This prince chang-
ing the palace for the cloister, assumed
the habit of a Hermit of St. Augustin,
and resigned his royal dignity. Sub-
sequently, however, he was elected
(A. D. 1439) Pope, as Felix V., but
the tiara he also laid aside, and d.
a Cardinal in 1451. His son and suc-
cessor,

LEWIS, Duke of Savoy, m. Anne de
Lusignan, dau. of James I., King of
Cyprus, and had, besides other issue,
AMADEUS, his heir.
Lewis or Charles, King of Cyprus,
m. Charlotte, dau. of John III.,
King of Cyprus.
James, Count of Geneva.
Philip, Duke of Savoy, m. 1st Mary,
dau. of Charles, Duke of Bourbon,
and had by her a son and a
daughter.

PHILIBEBT, who s. his kinsman as
Duke of Savoy and King of
Cyprus, and of whom hereafter.
LOUISE of Savoy, m. in 1476,
Charles de Bourbon, Count
of Angoulesme, and left a son,
Francis I., King of France;
and a dau. Margaret, Queen
of Navarre, grandmother of
Henry IV., King of France
and Navarre.

Philip, Duke of Savoy, m. 2ndly
Claudia, Countess of Per-
thievre, and by her had, be-
sides other issue,
CHABLES, who s. his half-bro-
ther, as Duke of Savoy, &c.
Philip, Duke of Nemours.
Charlotte, m. to Louis IL, King of

France.

AMADEUS the Holy, Duke of Savoy,
(the eldest son and successor of Lewis)
m. Jolantha, dau. of Charles VIL,
King of France, and had, with other
issue,

PHLLIBERT, his heir.

CHARLES, successor to his brother.

Anne m. Frederick of Arragon,

King of Naples.

PHILIBEBT the Hunter, Duke of
Savoy, (eldest son of Amadeus) m.
Blanca Mary, dau. of Galeazzo Mary,
Duke of Milan, and was s. in his
Duchy by his brother.

CHABLES the Warlike, Duke of
Savoy, and titulary King of Cyprus,
who m. Blanca, dau. of William, Mar-
quis of Montferrat, and had issue,
CHARLES, his heir.

THE ROYAL HOUSES OF EUROPE.

Jolantha Louisa m. her kinsman,

Philibert, Duke of Savoy
CHABLES JOHN AMADEUS, Duke of
Savoy (son of Charles, the Warlike)
was s. by his kinsman.

PHILIBEBT, Duke of Savoy and titu-
lar King of Cyprus, m. 1st, Jolantha,
daughter of Charles, Duke of Savoy ;
and 2ndly, Margaret, dau. of the Em-
peror Maximilian, and was succeeded
by his half-brother.

CHABLES the Good, Duke of Savoy,
and titular King of Cyprus, whose right
to the Duchy of Savoy was contested
by Francis I., King of France, who
claimed through his mother, the
famous Louise of Savoy, and main-
tained his pretensions with the sword.
Charles the Good m., 1522, Beatrice,
dau. of Emmanuel, King of Portugal,
and had, besides other issue, a son and
successor,

EMMANUEL PHILIBEBT, Duke of Sa-
voy, who, by the peace of Chateau
Cambrensis in 1559, partly recovered
the dominions which France had
wrested from his unfortunate father ;
and, during a long and pacific reign,
restored the fortunes of his house.
He accompanied Philip, King of Spain,
to England, an d, was honoured by Queen
Mary with the insignia of the Order
of the Garter. Under his auspices
agriculture and commerce flourished,
and the production of silk became the
staple trade of Piedmont. Emmanuel
m. Margaret, dau. of Francis, King of
France, and d. in 1580, leaving a son
and successor,

CHABLES EMMANUEL I., Duke of
Savoy, titular King of Cyprus, a war-
like prince, who entirely excluded the
French from peaceable entrance into
Italy, by exchanging the County of
Bresse for the Marquesate of Saluzzo.
Charles m. Catherine, dau. of Philip II.,
King of Spain, and Jiad (with other
children, of whom Margaret wedded
Francis, Duke of Mantua, and Isabel,
Alonzo, Duke of Modena) two sons :
i. VICTOB AMADEUS, his heir.
ii. Thomas Francis, Prince of
Carignan, who d. in 1656,
leaving by Mary, his wife,
heiress of Charles of Bourbon,
last Count of Soissons, two
sons, viz. :

1 .EMMANUELP HILIBEBT, Prince
of Carignan, who m. Mary
Catherine, dau. of Borsus, of

THE ROYAL HOUSES OF EUROPE.

473

Modena, and d. in 1709,
leaving a son, VICTOR AMA-
DEUS 3d, Prince of Carignan
father of VICTOR AMADEUS
4th, Prince of Carignan,
whose son, VICTOR AMADEUS
5th, Prince of Carignan, m.
Maria, dan. of Lewis Charles,
Comte de Brionne, and d. in
1780. His son and suc-
cessor,

CHARLES EMMANUEL 6th,
Prince of Carignan,
0. in 1770, espoused
Maria Christina, dau.
of Charles, Prince of
Saxe Courland, and d.
16th Aug. 1800, leaving
a dau., Frances, wife of
the Arch -Duke Renier,
of Austria, and a son,
CHARLES ALBERT AMA-
DEUS, present KING OF
SARDINIA.

2. Eugene Maurice, Count of

Soissons, whose second son

was the renowned General,

PRINCE EUGENE, of SAVOY.

Charles.Emmanuel I., Duke of Savoy,

was a learned mathematician, an able

statesman, and a skilful general — but

restless, and ambitious, and called by

the historians " The ornament and

disturbance of his time : he died in

1630, and was succeeded by his son,

VICTOR AMADEUS I., Duke of Savoy
and titular King of Cyprus. This
Prince, subservient to French influ-
ence, became the auxiliary of Richelieu
in a new war, which the ambition of
the cardinal commenced against the
house of Austria: he d. in 1637,
leaving by Catherine, his wife, dau. of
Henry IV. of France, two sons, the
elder of whom survived but a few days,
when the crown devolved on the
younger,

CHARLES-EMMANUEL II., Duke of
Savoy, then only in his fourth year.
The regency was disputed between his
widowed mother and two brothers of
the late duke. Richelieu, who secretly
designed to annex Savoy to France,
supported the former : Spain gave her
aid to the latter ; and the duchy was
torn to pieces by a civil war, which
threatened its entire destruction. Even
on the termination of this family feud,
the French retained possession of
Turin, which they had been permitted

to garrison ; and the independence of
Savoy was perhaps only preserved by
Richelieu's death.

Charles Emmanuel, who united the
qualities of a modern Italian politician
with those of an ancient warrior, tried
repeatedly to make himself master of
Cyprus, Genoa, and Montferrat, and
attacked, in succession, France and
Spaij. The result was unfortunate.
The Duke of Savoy brought on him
the armies of those powerful king-
doms, and lost his best towns and
fortresses. He married 1st Fran-
cisca, dau. of John Baptista, Duke of
Orleans, and 2nd Mary Joanna
Baptista, dau. of Charles Amadeus,
Duke of Nemours, and by the latter
had, with other issue, an elder son,

VICTOR AMADEUS, King of Sardinia,
who, by the treaty of Turin, ob-
tained the duchy of Montferrat, with
some districts of the territory of
Milan ; besides which, by the treaty of
Utrecht, 1713, he was allotted the is-
land of Sicily with the title of king : this
last he changed in 1720 for Sardinia;
he m. 1684 Anne Mary, only child to
leave issue of Philip Duke of Orleans,
by Henrietta Maria, his first wife, dau.
and ultimately heiress of Charles I.
King of England, and had issue,

CHARLES EMMANUEL 2nd King of
Sardinia.

Emanuel Philibert, Prince of Cha-
blais, d. 1705.

Victor Emanuel Philip, Prince of
Piedmont.

Mary Adelheid, m. Lewis, Duke
of Burgundy.

Mary Louisa Gabriela, m. Philip V.
King of Spain.

Mary Anne.

Victor Amadeus, d. in 1732

The eldest son.

CHARLES EMMANUEL, King of Sar-
dania, m. 1st Anne Christina Louisa,
dau. of Theodorus, Palatine of Salt-
bach, by whom he had a son, Victor
Amadeus, who d. young, 1725. He
m. 2ndly, Polyxena Christina, dau.
of Ernest Leopold, of Hesse Rheinfelt,
and by her had, besides daughters, a
son and heir, VICTOR AMADEUS MARIE.
He m. 3dly Elizabeth Theresa, dau. of
Leopold, Duke of Lorraine, and by her
had a son, Benedict, Duke of Chablais.
The eldest son and successor,

VICTOR AMADEUS MARIE, King of
Sardinia, b. in 1726, m. Marie Antoin-

474

THE ROYAL HOUSES OF EUROPE.

ette, dau. of Philip, King of Spain,
and by her, who d. 1785, had issue,
CHARLES EMMANUEL FERDINAND.
VICTOR EMMANUEL.
CHARLES FELIX JOSEPH.
Joseph Benedict, Count of Mari-

enne, b. 1766.
Maria Josepha Louisa, m. to Lewi

Stanislaus, Count de Provence.
Maria Theresa, m. Charles Philip,

Count d' Artois.
Maria Charlotte, m. to Anthony

Clement, of Saxony.
On the 3d September, 1730, Victor
Amadeus abdicated in favor of his
eldest son,

CHARLES EMMANUEL FERDINAND,
Prince of Piedmont, King of Sardinia,
who was forced to resign all his pos-
sessions 8th Dec. 1798, and abdicated
4th June 1802, in favour of his
brother,

VICTOR EMMANUEL, King of Sardi-
nia, b. 24th July, 1759, who m. Maria
Theresa, dau. of Frederick, Arch-
Duke of Austria, had issue,

i. Maria Beatrice Victoire Josephine,

m. 20th June, 1812, Francis

IV., reigning Duke of Modena;

and d. in 1840, leaving issue,

1. FRANCIS FERDINAND, heridi-

tary Prince of Modena, b. 1 st

June 1819, representative of

the ENGLISH ROYAL HOUSES

of PLANTAGENET, TUDOR,

and STUART. He m. 30th of

March, 1842, the Princess

Adelgonda, dau. of Louis,
King of Bavaria.

2. Ferdinand Charlet Victor,
Major-General Austrian ser-
vice, b. 20th July, 1821.

3. Maria Theresa, b. 14th July,
1817.

4. Maria Beatrice.

11. Maria Theresa, m. in 1820 Charles
Louis, Duke of Lucca, and had
one son, Ferdinand Charles,
in. Maria Anne Caroline, m. in 1831
Ferdinand I., Emperor of Austria.
Victor Emmanuel d. 10th Jan. 1824,
having resigned his kingdon 12th
March, 1821, to his brother,

CHARLES FELIX JOSEPH, King of
Sardinia, b. 1765 ; who m. -6th April,
1807, Maria Christina de Bourbon,
dau. of Ferdinand IV. King of the
two Sicilies, but d. s. p. 27th of April,
1831, when the crown of Sardinia de-
volved on his distant kinsman,

CHARLES ALBERT, representative of
the branch of Savoy Carignan, who is
the reigning monarch. His Majesty
b. 2nd Oct. 1798; TO. 30th Sept. 1817,
Maria Theresa, Arch-Duchess of Aus-
tria, dau. of the late Ferdinand, Grand
Duke of Tuscany, and has issue,
i. VICTOR EMMANUEL, Duke of Sa-
voy, b. 1820 ; m. 1842, the Arch-
Duchess Maria Adelaide, dau. of
the Arch-Duke Regnier, and has
issue,

ii. Ferdinand, Duke of Genoa, b.
1822.

Sardinia is the only Italian State still governed by the male represen-
tative of the ancient hereditary sovereigns.

THE Two SICILIES owe fealty to a scion of the Spanish branch of the
Illustrious House of Bourbon — viz. FERDINAND II., grandson of Ferdi-
nand third son of Charles III. King of Spain. We have already given,
in page 263 of our second vol., under " The Royal House of Spain," full
details of his Majesty's family and descent.

TUSCANY — the land of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, and once the heri-
tage of the Medici, a dynasty associated with the most splendid recollec-
tions of reviving knowledge and protected literature — is now the patrimony
of a cadet of the House of Austria, his Imperial Highness the Grand Duke
LEOPOLD II., born 3rd October, 1797, son of the late Grand Duke Fer-
dinand III., who was the younger son of Leopold II., Emperor of Austria.

The DUCHY of MODENA to which MASSA and CARRARA are now united,
is swayed by an Austrian Prince, FRANCIS IV., who through his mother,
Maria Beatrice, Duchess of Modena, derives from the ancient rulers of
the Duchy of —

THE ROYAL HOUSES OF EUROPE. 475

the antique brood

Of ESTE, which for many an age made good
Its strength within thy walls, and was of yore

Patron or tyrant, as the changing mode

Of petty power impelled, of those who wore

The wreath which Dante's brow alone had worn before.

The present Hereditary Prince of Modena inherits through his mother
the distinguished honour of being senior representative of the Royal
Dynasties of ENGLAND : — PLANTAGENET, TUDOR, and STUART.*

PARMA and PLA^ENZA, which in early times formed part of the territory
of the Counts of Milan, and were subsequently in the possession suc-
cessively of France, Rome, Austria, and Spain, are now possessed, under
the treaty of Paris of 1814, by the Arch-Duchess MARIA LOUISA of
Austria, daughter of the Emperor Francis II. and widow of NAPOLEON
BONAPARTE.

Of these Sovereigns, deriving from the Imperial family, ample par-
ticulars will be found in our " History of the Dynasty of Austria,"
vol. ii. p, 1.

* HENRY VII., King of England, of the = The Princess Elizabeth PLANTAGENET, of
House of TUDOR: died 1509. I York, dau. and heir of EDWARD IV.

THE PRINCESS MARGARET TUDOR, eldest = JAMES IV., King of Scotland, of the
dau. and co heir, House of Stuart.

JAMES V., King of Scotland. = Magdalen, dau. of Francis I., of France.

MARY, QUEEN OP SCOTS. = Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley.

JAMES I., King of England. = Anne, dau. of Frederick II., of Denmark,

CHARLES I., King of England. = Henrietta Maria, dau. of Henry IV., of

I France.

HENRIETTA MARIA, dau., and in her = Philip, Duke of Orleans, died in 1670.
issue sole heiress.

ANNA MARIA, dau. and eventual heiress = Victor Amadeus II., King of Sardinia.

a quibus.

Maria Beatrice Victoire Josephine, eldest dau. and heir
of Victor Emmanuel, King of Sardinia, and mother of
Francis Ferdinand, Heriditary PRINCE OF MODENA,
Senior Representative of the PLANTAGENETS, Tu-
DORS, and STUARTS.

476

OUDINOT, DUKE OF REGGIO.

THE stars that beamed around Napoleon are disappearing fast. A few
months ago a memoir of Grouchy appeared in our columns ; one of
Oudinot now follows. Of all the mareschals of the empire, two
alone survive — Marmont in exile, and Soult within a few paces of the
tomb.

The subject of the present sketch, though by no means of the first
order, was not an undistinguished member of the great galaxy that sur-
rounded the Imperial throne. He was born at Bar-sur-Ornaire, on the 2nd
of April, 1767, the son of a respectable merchant ; his comparatively hum-
ble birth, and the times, alike contributed to throw him into the revolu-
tionary vortex so soon as he attained the age of manhood. His father
had destined him for commercial pursuits, but in his sixteenth year
Charles Nicolas could not be restrained from entering the regiment of Medoc,
in which, during four years' service, he obtained no elevation of import-
ance. Louis XVI., almost simultaneously with the future mareschal's
entry as a private soldier, had been prevailed on to issue an order, en-
joining that none, save those who could shew nobility of race for four
generations, should rise to the rank of officers in the French army ; and
the younger Oudinot, finding the barrier insuperable, complied the
more readily in his twentieth year with his father's desire to retire
from the army and embark in commerce ; however, the Revolution
breaking out shortly afterwards, and extending dazzling prospects to
youths of courage, his son found the impulse irresistible, and accordingly,
in 1793, we find him again and for ever engaged in martial deeds. Named
chief of the third battalion of the Volunteers of the Meuse, he, in 1791,
signalized himself in quelling a revolt in his native city ; and in the fol-
lowing year acquired still more distinction by a vigorous defence of the
Chateau of Bitche, when the Prussians made their memorable inroad into
France. His resistance was indeed the first check they encountered ;
with a comparatively feeble band he drove them off, and afterwards suc-
ceeded in capturing seven hundred of their number. The people, seeing
how readily the invaders were repelled, consequently rose : the Duke of
Brunswick, stern and menacing before, shewed irresolution when the
firmest persistance was necessary ; the nation soon was up in arms ; the
disastrous retreat of the Prussians followed ; and the royal family of
France was compromised by their advance. The issue is well known ; and
Oudinot was rewarded for his bravery by the colonelcy of the regiment of
Picardy, the chief officer of which had lately followed the baneful ex-
ample of emigration. He was thus, in his twenty-fifth year, invested
with the command of one of the most daring regiments in the French
service, and events soon occurred to test his nerve. He had scarcely ap-
peared at its head when insubordination broke out, and two thousand of
the fiercest spirits in France, each of whom identified liberty with licence,
were ready to dispute his authority. By that mingled firmness and amenity,
however, for which during his whole life he was remarkable, he succeeded
in reducing them to control, and at Morlanter the regiment soon after-
wards evinced a spirit as devoted as it had formerly been undisciplined.
With it alone he withstood the advance of ten thousand Prussians, and

OUDINOT, DUKE OF EEGGIO. 477

he received a brigade in reward of his services. The road to fame was
now open, and he next signalized himself by the capture of Treves ; but
a reserve followed, and in October, 1795, while making a fierce nocturnal
attack upon the enemy at Nockerau, he was thrown down, disabled,
received five wounds, trampled under foot, and finally conveyed a prisoner
into Germany, where he remained five months, till exchanged in the course
of hostilities.

The summer of 1796 saw him once more in the field, and he was again
severely wounded at the siege of Ingoldstadt ; but so soon as recovered,
he was again in the stirrups, and, in a brilliant charge, captured a whole
battalion of Austrians. The fields of Manheim and Feldtkirch witnessed
services equally zealous in those now forgotten, but hard-fought and
sanguinary days; and at last, in 1799, he attained the full rank of
General. In this capacity he joined Massena at Zurich — Massena, that
stern and truculent spirit whom Napoleon acknowledged as his master in
the art of war — and under this leader he came in contact, at that town,
with Suwarrow, a semi-barbarian, not less savage than Massena himself.
The ferocious Russian, however, was now in his decline. After a career of
victory in Italy, scarcely less extraordinary than Napoleon's own, he
was doomed to find the brute force of the bayonet fail when opposed by
science ; and, defeated by the superior address of the French leader, he
made that fearful mid-winter retreat through the defiles of Switzerland,
which he survived only to encounter, what to him was the more withering
blight of the cold neglect of Paul, his capricious master. Oudinot, who
had ably borne his part in this dreadful campaign, next accompanied
Massena to Genoa, and participated in all the hunger and horror of its
memorable siege — from which, however, he had the good fortune to escape
without becoming captive like the other, in consequence of having pre-
viously been despatched to open up a communication with General Brune
on the Mincio. In the celebrated passage of this river, he so dis-
tinguished himself as to receive the honour of a sword from Napoleon ;
and subsequently following the victorious footsteps of the French to
Vienna, he thence was despatched to Paris with tidings of the convention
that for a time arrested the march of war.

A brief and hollow truce succeeded ; and so highly had Oudinot raised
himself in the estimation of Napoleon, that when the emperor shortly
afterwards established a grenadier guard, he was entrusted with its com-
mand ; and accompanied, or rather preceded, him in that splendid march
from the shores of Boulogne to the confines of the Black Forest, which
for precision, vigour, and celerity, yet remains unequalled. After a march
of six hundred miles, Oudinot took up his post on the Danube on the
day affixed and at the appointed hour, and crossed the river though
opposed by a hundred and eighty guns. His decision on this occasion
saved the French from slaughter, if not defeat. Observing the slow
manoeuvres of the Austrians, he himself seized on their foremost gunner
when on the point of applying his match, and by hurling him into the
river, prevented him giving the alarm. Others coming up to his aid,
the enemy were turned, ,and the whole advantage of their position lost
by this promptitude of Oudinot, and by the slowness of the German
school.

When the brilliant campaign of Austerlitz followed, and for a while
overthrew the power of Austria, Oudinot was sent by Napoleon to take

478 OUDINOT, DUKE OF REGGIO.

possession of Neufchatel ; and it was in the government of this town that
his civic talents were first displayed. Courteous and disinterested, he
avoided the course followed by too many of the emperor's mareschals,
and received the compliment of a sword from the inhabitants in acknow-
ledgment of his forbearance. But the restless ambition of Napoleon
soon again summoned him to arms ; and detached from the peaceful
scene, he set out on the campaign of Jena. In a few weeks Prussia
was humbled to the dust ; and while Napoleon was overrunning
the dominions of Frederick William, Oudinot was despatched to Po-
land. Here, at the battle of Ostrolenka, he gained the chief victory
in which he was distinguished as a principal, and was rewarded by the
emperor with the title of Count and a donation of a million (£40,000)
for his services. But this action, though considerable in the life of
Oudinot, was but a trifle in the gigantic career of Napoleon. The em-
peror was meditating one of his decisive blows, and instructed Oudinot
to join Lefebvre prior to the tremendous stroke at Friedland. Oudinot
set out on a midnight march, but had not advanced an hour before when
the Russians were on him ; yet with his solitary division he withstood
their assault from one in the morning till noon next day, when Napoleon
coming up gained that memorable action. In the truce that followed,
Oudinot was much engaged in negociation with the allied sovereigns
at Erfurth, to the government of which he was appointed, anjd had an
opportunity of evincing diplomatic and administratic talents in which
he was equalled by few of Napoleon's marshals ; but fresh hostilities
with Austria again drew him from civic duties, and he a second time
in person defeated them at Psoffenhasen. As in the other instance,
however, this was but a prelude to a more eventful action. The battle
of Wagram followed, and Oudinot, though Ney and Macdonald bore off
the palm on that sanguinary day, so distinguished himself that Napoleon
bestowed on him the mareschal's staff and the dukedom of Reggio. In 1 8 1 0
he was despatched into Holland, and took in succession Berg-op-Zoom,
Breda, Bois-le-Duc, and Utrecht. Of Amsterdam, by the emperor's
instruction, he shortly afterwards took possession : and the feeble but
amiable Louis, whom Napoleon had seated on the throne, finding it
impossible to reconcile his position to his conscience, and at once dis-
charge his duty to his subjects and obey the behests of his imperious
brother, having resigned the throne to which the other had elevated him,
Oudinot virtually became ruler of Holland. Here the same integrity and
suavity distinguished him, and both the inhabitants and Prince of
Orange, on afterwards succeeding to the throne, presented him with
testimonials of their estimation.

Again the voice of war withdrew him from pacific duties. Napoleon
being no longer able to mould Alexander to his purpose, sounded the
tocsin ; and all Europe was in arms for the tremendous Russian invasion.
From every quarter between the Guadalquiver and Boresthenes, heaps
were congregated ; half a million of men in arms from every nation
on the European continent prepared to cross the portion of the Czar's
dominions, from which so few of them were fated ever to return. Oudinot
joined the grand army at Munich, having been entrusted with the com-
mand of the twelfth division, and during two months he occupied Berlin ;
the power of Frederick William, though at peace with Napoleon, being thus
contemptuously cast aside. Hence, proceeding to the Niemen, he crossed

OUDINOT, DUKE OF REGGIO. 479

this river, and took part in all the murderous conflicts that followed. At
the passage of the Dwina he was assigned the duty of charging a Russian
brigade, and he did it with the bayonet so effectually that, after capturing
sixteen of their guns, he killed or drove nearly the whole division into
the river, where the waters destroyed almost all who had escaped the
sword. At the battle of Potolsk he was severely wounded, and obliged
to abandon the command of his division to St. Cyr ; but this intrepid
general seeing himself being cut up more desperately still, Oudinot re-
sumed the command, though scarcely able to remain erect in his saddle.
The critical position of the grand army now in full retreat, permitted no
alternative. To him, with a division now scarcely five thousand in number,
was assigned the task of covering the passage across the Beresina ; and
three days was he engaged in mitigating or increasing the horrors of that
terrific retreat. By a fierce charge on a Russian division commanded by
an old French emigrant, the Marquis de Lambert, whom he overthrew, he
facilitated the transit of the snow-smitten wretches across the river ; but
towards the end of the conflict his own division was cut up or exhausted,
and himself shot through the body by a musket ball. In this condition
he was carried four leagues in advance ; but had scarcely procured the
shelter of a house when the Cossacks were on him. In this extremity,
though prostrate, he preferred death to captivity, and determined with
thirty others to hold out till the last ; but aid fortunately reached them
before they were finally exhausted ; and, feeble and bleeding, he at last
regained the shelter of Germany.

In the following year the obstinacy and danger of Napoleon again
brought every one of his adherents into action, and Oudinot took part in
the battle of Bautzen ; but he was repulsed from Berlin by the Crown
Prince of Sweden, and Bernadotte subsequently defeated him at Gross-
beeren. Napoleon sent Ney to support — supplant him ; and le plus brave
des braves was equally unsuccessful when opposed by the cool genius of
the apostate Frenchman. He was defeated at Denniwitz ; and Bernadotte
being thus enabled to come up, turned the tide against Napoleon at the
fatal battle of Leipsic. Oudinot commanded two divisions of the Im-
perial Guard on this occasion ; and when the French were finally defeated
on the third day of that crushing contest, to him was assigned the task of
protecting the rear during the gloomy retreat of the Eagles from Germany
to the opposite side of the Rhine.

His wounds and ill-health prevented Oudinot from taking part in the
battle of Hanau ; but 1814 again saw him in the field, and he took part
in all the sanguinary actions that followed. On the defeat of Napoleon,
however, he gave in his adhesion to the Bourbons, and during the Hundred
Days remained faithful to his trust. He even took the field against the
emperor ; but his soldiers throwing up their caps tumultuously so soon as
they came in sight of the long-cherished Eagles, Oudinot withdrew, and
remained in privacy till the conflict was past. He had previously re-
ceived the appointment of Colonel-General of the Grenadiers and the
command of the Chasseurs-Royal, as well as the important government
of Metz from the Bourbons ; and on their second restoration he was
nominated icommander of the National Guard of Paris, Major-General of
the Royal Guard, Peer of France, and Minister of State. From the
King of Holland he received a Grand Cordon in 1816, with a flattering
letter for his conduct v.hile entrusted with the government of that

480 OUDINOT, DUKE OF BEGGIO.

country; and in 1823 he took the command of the first division of the
French army in its invasion of Spain. The Duke of Angouleme wisely
entrusted him with the government of Madrid, and Oudinot, as far as
possible, without any rigorous severity, kept in check the furious and
fanatical passions of its turbulent and priest-ridden population. Since then
he has lived in retirement till his recent appointment to the governorship
of the Invalids, amongst whom he appropriately concluded his long
career.

Without possessing in any strong degree the strategic powers of Suchet,
Massena, or Soult; the brilliant courage of Murat, Lannes, or Ney ; or
the lofty chivalrous love which characterised Desaix ; the wariness of
Bernadotte, or the science of Moreau, Oudinot formed a safe and zea-
lous subordinate, and was not incapable of being left to his own resources.
He was however by no means one of the most brilliant of Napoleon's
marshals ; but equalled most of them in duty, and surpassed the greater
number in disinterestedness when entrusted with command. Yet his
talents lay chiefly in civil administration, and his chief virtue consisted
in moderation. In the funeral oration recently pronounced over his re-
mains by an old companion in arms, he has been extolled as a great
military commander, but there seems nothing greater in him than every
age in numbers produces, and every generation admires and forgets.

J. *

481

THE WHITE ROSE OF SCOTLAND.

ONE of the most interesting female characters in English history is the
Lady Jane Gordon, daughter of the Earl of Huntly, and widow of Perkin
Warbeck. This Lady, called from her exquisite beauty '« The White Rose
of Scotland," was married after the death of the Pretender to Sir Matthew
Cradock, of Swanzy, Knt., and lies buried with him in Herbert's aisle, in
Swansea church, where their tomb is to be seen, with this inscription, —

"&n-e Iwa &tr ftflatijtc «£ra>Jofe, Ht., dome tune tteputte unto tije rtgfjt
Ijonoutable CfyarleS erle of jiottfrt, in tl)t countte of Glamorgan,
&. attor, <&M. Cfjauncelor of tije dame, &tetoav& of Gotoer an*
&ilbei «m& mi lalto Haterin fjte

The following pedigree of Cradock of Swanzy (from a MS. now in the
possession of Thomas Russell Potter, Esq.), will shew that the Herberts,
Earls of Pembroke, derive descent from the noble lady and faithful wife
mentioned below.

Cradock ap Ivon bore for his arms, azure, three boars' heads caboshed between nine
cross crosslets. Arg. the boar's head, sword and gauntlet in crest.* Motto, — HE
KYMERO (On, countrymen). Note — that when the said Cradock had killed a mon-
strous wild boar, in the Forest of Clyne, in Gower, this coat of armour was given him
to bear; since which time that family has used it. This is collected from ancient
antiquaries' labours. P. H. GAMMAGE, 1648.

Eynon ap Collwyn, lord of Langhenyth, to Glamorgan = Nest, dau. to Justin ap

their great grandton \ Gargan, lord of Glamogan.

Cradock ap Ivon, ap Richard, = . . . .
ap Eynon

Evan Cradock, of = .... Robert, of whom many Hopkin Cradock, of whom
Swanzy. gentlemen of the name the Cradocks of Chinto in

derive their genealogies. Gower and elsewhere de-
scend.

Robert ==....

Sir Mathew Cradock, of Swanzy, Knt. = Lady Catherine Gordon, daughter of

George, second Earl of Huntly, and
widow of Perkin Warbeck, the pre-
tended Prince of Wales.

Margaret, dau. and heir = Sir Richard Herbert,"of Ewyas, natural son to William
Herbert, the first Earl of Pembroke of the name,
who was slain at the battle of Banbury, July 26, 1469.

Sir George Herbert, of Swanzy, Knt., of whom the William Herbert, created Earl
Herberts and others descend. of Pembroke in 1551, of whom

the Earls of Pembroke, the
Countess of Powis, and others
descend.

* Respecting this Crest, see " The Boy and Mantle," in Dr. Percy'& Reliques,
vol. iii. p. 21.

VOL. IV., NO. XIX. M M

482

FROM THE GERMAN, BY A LADY.

I.
LOVE'S SIGNAL.

[The young women of the Island of Rugen in former times enjoyed the power
of selecting their own Bridegrooms. It was the custom to hang an apron from
a casement of the cottage where the maiden resided, who availed herself of the
privilege. The signal attracted all the young men of the village, and the
maiden chose from among them, him upon whom she bestowed her heart.
She sent to him the following evening a silk kerchief as a pledge of her inten-
tion, and the acceptance of the token implied his acquiescence.}

FHOM the casement my mother, my white apron hung,
And many passed by and they laughed and they sung —
Oh haste thee, my darling, thy choice to declare —
But I wept, and I sobbed, for I saw him not there.

Oh ! he is not with them, the loved one, I cried,
Who I fain would for ever keep close by my side ;
Proclaim but the news, spread it wide o'er the sea,
And he'll quickly return, and his bride I shall be.

I would on the mast-head, my token Fd placed,

The prey of the winds on the watery waste ;

Had he seen it but flutter, tho' far in the air,

He'd have known it, and hailed it, and wished himself there.

But nowithat to seek him, my kerchief I send,
In my own faithful hand to the shore it shall wend —
To the white crested wave I will trust thee secure,
And a sign thou shalt be that my love shall endure.

In vain shouldst thou seek him, then go down below,
Search deep in the caves where Corrolans grow,
And wherever thou findest him, taking his rest,
Approach the spot gently, and cover his breast.

And then, when the angel the trumpet shall sound,
Which together shall gather the nations around,
Awaking, he'll see thee, and joyful exclaim,
Yes ! in death and in life, she was ever the same.

II.
THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.

A GOLDSMITH sat within his door,

'Mid pearls and jewels rare.
" Sweet Helen ! thou, of all my store,
My brightest jewel, art a treasure

That needs my tend'rest care."

THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER. 483

A Knight steps in, of noble mien —

" Welcome my gentle maid!
And welcome too, dear Goldsmith mine,
Of gems, prepare for my sweet bride,

A wreath that will not fade."

The costly present was prepared,

Playing, sparkling brightly !
The maiden to her room repaired ;
She was alone, and on her brow

She placed and fixed it lightly.

" Oh ! happy, happy is the bride

On whom this crown they'll see ;
Had that dear Knight, when by my side,
For me a rose-wreath only twined,
How joyful should I be."

The Knight returns, the jewels shine,

He put the wreath aside.
" Now make for me, dear Goldsmith mine,
A little ring of diamonds fine,

For my sweet lovely bride.

And see, a costly ring 's prepared,

Of diamonds shining brightly ! "
The maiden to her room repaired ;
She was alone — that ring half on

Her finger placed so lightly.

" Oh ! happy, happy is the bride

On whom this ring they'll see ;
Had that dear Knight, when by my side,
To me a lock of hair but given,

How joyful should I be."

The Knight returns, the jewels shine,

He put the ring aside.

" Now thanks to thee, dear Goldsmith mine,
Thou 'st made and well, two costly gifts,

For my sweet lovely bride."

" Yet still I'd fain, before I go,

Well prove their beauty rare ;
Step forth, sweet maid ; nay, blush not so
To wear my loved one's bridal gear —

Like thee, she 's good and fair."

MM2

484 EARLDOM OF BERKELEY.

With glowing cheeks, and looks cast down,

Before the Knight she stands ;
He decks her with that jewelled crown,
Presents the ring with courtly grace,
Then seizes both her hands.

" Helen ! my love, thou art my pride,
The jest has now been played !

Thou art my youthful, lovely bride ;

For thee, that sparkling crown,
For thee, this ring were made.

" 'Mid jewels rare, and pearls and gold,

My treasure here I see ;
A token this, for thee to hold,
That thou art destined honours high,

My love, to share with me."

EARLDOM OF BERKELEY.

To the Editor of " The Patrician:'

Spetchley Park, October 24th, 1847.

SIK, — You are at liberty to make the following correction of an error
which appeared in your last Number, and which has been going the
round of all the papers : —

Your most obedient,

GEANTLEY F. BEKKELEY.

There is an erroneous statement in the last publication of " The Patrician,"
under the head of " Fragments of Family History," in regard to the Earldom of
Berkeley.

It is there stated " that Berkeley Castle, and all the broad demesnes of the
family, were bequeathed to the present Lord Fitzhardinge, by the will of the
late Earl of Berkeley."

This is not the fact.

The whole of the London or Berkeley Square property remained, in conjunc-
tion with the family estates in Dorsetshire, attached to the Earldom of Berkeley,
and consequently became the inheritance of the Hon. Thomas Moreton Fitz-
hardinge Berkeley, the present Earl de jure, who has not chosen to assume the
family honours. This inheritance, he subsequently assigned, on attaining his
majority, to the present Earl Fitzhardinge.

485

THEATRES.
THE OPENING OF THE DRAMATIC SEASON.

THE Winter and its approach are now the time most propitious to the
performance of the English drama. In the Spring and Summer the
Italian Opera, at her Majesty's Theatre, absorbs every attention, and
Shakspere's majestic echo is drowned in the enchanting melody of the
land of song. Italy is, at this moment, silent for us, and Jenny Lind
lives but in the recollection of her excellence and the hope of her return.
The theatres which have recently re-opened are, those of the Haymarket,
Sadler's Wells, and the Princess's. It is gratifying to see that at all
these, the sound standard English drama forms the principal attraction.
Shakspere and Sheridan are once more in the ascendant.

Farren, Mrs. Glover, Miss Faucet, and Mrs. Nisbett are at the Hay-
market. "The School for Scandal" has been admirably acted there.
Mr. Farren's son — Mr. Henry Farren — who now makes his first ap-
pearance on the stage, bears a strong resemblance to his father, and
gives much promise of being a valuable acquisition to the Haymarket
Theatre.

At the Princess's Theatre, Macready is performing " Macbeth ; " Miss
Cushman is the Lady Macbeth. Mr. Macready's mode of enacting the
" fiend of Scotland," is too well known to need comment. The great
tragedian has his wonted eloquence and energy.

At Sadler's Wells "Macbeth" is also continually represented; bat
here so great an improvement has been made in the manner of its per-
formance, that we cannot but pause to point out the advantages in the
alteration. Of all the scenic novelties introduced by Mr. Phelps, this
change in Macbeth does him the highest credit. The play, with the
exception of some absolutely necessary omissions, is acted exactly as
Shakspere wrote it. The usual musical interpolation is left out, and
whatever may be said to the contrary, Mr. Phelps is perfectly right in
this. It is quite against taste to engraft an opera upon a tragedy, or to
mix up, except in mere Vaudevilles, the singing with the spoken drama.
. This, moreover, is particularly wrong in Macbeth, for the music decidedly
mars that rapidity of action which forms one of the finest characteristics
of the play. In the representation at Sadler's Wells, the tragedy passes
with that quick variety of incident which, is so eloquently described by
M. Schlegel in the following passage : — " The tragedy of * Macbeth' strides
forward with amazing rapidity from the first catastrophe, (for Duncan's
murder may be called a catastrophe) to the last. * Thought and dorie,'
js the general motto ; for, as Macbeth says —

* The flighty purpose never is o'ertook,
Unless the deed go with it.'

In every feature we see a vigorous heroic age in the hardy North, which
steels every nerve. The precise duration of the action cannot be ascer-
tained— years, perhaps, according to the story ; but we know that to the
imagination the most crowded appears always the shortest. Here we can
hardly conceive how so very much can be compressed into so narrow a
space ; not merely external events, the very innermost recesses of the

486

TIIEATKE9.

minds of the persons of the drama are laid open to us. It is as if the
drags were taken from the wheels of time, and they rolled along without
interruption in their descent. Nothing can equal the power of this picture
in the excitation of horror. We need only allude to the circumstances
attending the murder of Duncan ; the daggers that hover before the eyes
of Macbeth ; the vision of Banquo at the feast ; the madness of Lady
Macbeth ; what can we possibly say on the subject that will not rather
weaken the impression? Such scenes stand alone, and are to be found
only in this poet ; otherwise the tragic muse might exchange her mask
for the head of Medusa."

The restoration of some scenes which are usually left out, is another
improvement, and shews that Shakspere is far more right than those
who would amend him. The appearance of a comic porter immediately
after the murder is committed, may at first seem odd, yet it is strictly
true to nature ; the thing might have just happened so, and this very junc-
tion of the ludicrous with the horrible adds to the terror of the scene,
It is this feature in Shakspere's works which Victor Hugo terms the
'" sublime of the grotesque." The introduction of the slaughter of Lady
Macduff and her son, increases still more the intended impression of this
darksome drama.

Phelps plays Macbeth well and forcibly. Lady Macbeth is somewhat
beyond the softer style of Miss Addison's acting, yet she imparts her
genius to it. In fine, by this production of Macbeth, Sadler's Wells
has made a marked advance towards the restoration of superior dramatic
acting.

At the Marylebone Theatre Mrs. Warner progresses successfully with
true Shaksperian spirit.

JULLIEN'S CONCERTS-.

M. JULLIEN is always fortunate : he seems to possess some magical in-
fluence which never fails to command prosperity. He has opened Drury
Lane with truly brilliant eclat. The house itself is magnificently deco-
rated : — fashion has favoured it; crowds have crammed it from roof to
foundation ; the music of his famous concerts has hady if possible, more
than its usual excellence and charm. Koenig, Richardson, and Prospere
are again in all their glory. M. Jullien's mystic baton has indeed raised
up an attraction greater than any that has come into action since the
departure of Jenny Lind, and the close of Her Majesty's Theatre. Are
we to ascribe these continual triumphs to some wondrous spell on the
part of the maestro, or merely to that combination of talent, taste, and
energy which has an odd knack of usually attaining its ends despite of
every difficulty.

487

LITERATURE.

THE LAND WE LIVE IN. 8vo. London : Charles Knight*

THIS work unites amusement with instruction in a singular degree,"-
the very homeliness of the style lending it a fresh attraction, by being so
much in character with the subject. Railways and steam-engines-
mighty agents as they are, and perhaps even poetical in themselves — are
yet too much mixed up with the thoughts and habits of every-day life to
be fit subjects for rhetorical displays.

Each of the numbers before us contains four divisions, and we shall
now endeavour to give a general idea of each, so far as our brief limits
will allow us.

The first is called the " Road and the Railway," and a most delightful
article it is, a sort of vivid phantasmagoria, in which the past and the present
are made to pass before us with brilliant rapidity. First we are shewn
the ancient Roman roads in our island ; then the rude attempts at what
may be called the early modern times ; then we travel somewhat more
smoothly over the original turnpike roads, the ground continuing to
grow firm under our feet, till we find it macadamized ; and lastly, we are
hurled along the rails at the rate of from twenty to forty miles an
hour. Indeed we should call this division the Chronicle of Roads, but
that we fear many readers might infer from such a title that it was grave
at least, if not dull. Now, it is anything but dull ; a romance could not
be more amusing ; and in truth, though real, it has much of the same
character. When the writer brings us from Bath or York to London in
a journey of many days, now sticking in mud and mire, and now passing
over miles of uncultivated land, the vehicle a heavy lumbering waggon—
is not that romance ? or when we see the squire on horseback, with his
lady on a pillion behind him, rambling from their remote hall to the
metropolis, and accompanied by a dozen followers- — what is that but
romance ?

The second division is called the " Sail and the Steamer ; " but though
very pleasing, it does not exactly contain what might have been expected
from the title. Little is said in it as to the steam-engine itself, either in
regard to its history or construction ; we seem rather to be brought back
to what is understood in the general appellation of the work — " The
Land we Live In," for the author first gives an account of the Clyde and
of the eastern ports, then dilates upon the Thames and its traffic, as it
was and as it is, presenting many charming pictures, and concludes with
Southampton and the western ports.

The third division gives a hasty and yet comprehensive glance at the
British Museum — as comprehensive at least as was compatible with the
limits of the wrork and the magnitude of the subject. With all its
abuses, this is a glorious institution ; and when the commission which
has been appointed by Government to investigate the present state of
things shall have concluded its labours, no doubt such reforms will be
made as to render it an honour to the country.

The last division of this part presents us with Richmond, — a place yet
more interesting from its associations than from its local attractions. It

488 LITERATURE.

has been the theme of poets and the residence of sovereigns ; and though
such scenery must have charmed in whatever place it was met with, still
its reputation has been much enhanced by its vicinity to London. In
the palace here, Henry the Eighth entertained the great Emperor
Charles, of Germany ; and here, too, Elizabeth was at one time a
prisoner, and at another the foremost sovereign of the world receiving
noblemen and princes.

Part the Second opens with Windermere, and the various routes con-
nected with it, some of which, we had almost said, are more interesting
than the beautiful lake itself. " The Sands," as they are called, par
excellence, have many a thrilling tale attached to them, fully realizing
the so oft-repeated maxim, — that " truth is more wonderful than fiction."
A touching instance of this kind may be found in the letters of the poet
Gray, who visited the lake district in 1767.

" Oct. 11. Wind S.W. ; clouds and sun ; warm and a fine dappled sky ; crossed
the river (Lune), and walked over a peninsula three miles to Pooton, which
stands on the beach. An old fisherman, mending his nets, (while I
inquired about the danger of passing these sands) told me, in his dialect, a
moving story ; how a brother of the trade, a cockier (as he styled him), driving a
little cart with two daughters (women grown) in it, and his wife on horseback
following, set out one day to pass the Seven Mile Sands, as they had frequently
been used to do ; for nobody in the village knew them better than the old man
did. When they were about half way over, a thick fog rose ; and as they
advanced they found the water much deeper than they expected. The 'old man
was puzzled ; he stopped, and said he would go a little way to find some mark
he was acquainted with. They stayed a little while for him ; but in vain. They
called aloud ; but no reply. At last the young women pressed their mother to
think where they were, and go on. She would not leave the place ; but wandered
about, forlorn and amazed. She would not quit her horse, and get into the cart
with them. They determined, after much time wasted, to turn back, and give
themselves up to the guidance of their horses. The old woman was soon
washed off, and perished. The poor girls clung close to their cart ; and the
horse, sometimes wading and sometimes swimming, brought them back to land
alive, but senseless with terror and distress, and unable for many days to give
any account of themselves. The bodies of their parents were found soon after
(next ebb), that of the father a very few paces distant from the spot where he
left them."

It would seem, however, that the danger, and with it the romance of
the scene, is likely soon to pass away. The establishment of steam-boat
transit from Fleetwood to Furness, in connection with railways at either
end, and the project of a branch railway from Milnthorp to Ulverstone,
will no doubt render this route but little frequented in times to come.

At length we are brought to the lake itself, the picture of which is so
prettily as well as sensibly given, that it would be a downright wronging
of the reader not to extract a portion of it at least for his amusement.

" It happens commonly with whatever is pre-eminently famous for beauty —
whether a lovely woman, a fair scene, or a noble picture, — that the first view is
disappointing. So is it often with * the cliffs and islands of Winander.' Espe-
cially is Windermere disappointing to one accustomed to lake and mountain
scenery. A vague indefinite notion has been formed which, under ordinary cir-
cumstances, is seldom realized. The lake is declared to be deficient in grandeur,
the mountains are not near enough to the sky. Or worse, it is visited on a
cold, dark, and misty day, and scarce anything is seen at all. In either case, or
in any case, there is a sovereign remedy — patience, the first and main quali-

LITERATURE. 483

cation for the mountain traveller. You have only to wait, and a change will
come. Wander awhile among the mountains, and gradually they will let you
into their secrets. Day by day, and hour by hour, will the feeling of their might
and majesty dawn more and more upon you, till, when their full glory is felt,
you will wonder that ever you could have thought slightingly of even the meanest
of them. And so of the weather. Do not imagine that because it is at this
moment unfavourable, it will be so presently. In this region half-an-hour pro-
duces the wildest changes. In the morning early you start out, — after dis-
creetly providing the inner man with a goodly Westmoreland breakfast, — hoping
for a tolerable day of wandering. The sky is grey, the mist hangs heavily on
the fells, but you trust it may clear up, and go on blithely. But the mist remains.
Occasionally you climb the crags ; once or twice you venture to a mountain
summit ; still the prospect is as dreary as that which met the anxious gaze of
the ancient mariner : —

1 The mist is here, the mist is there,
The mist is all around :'

and you feel that, pretty as it is in a picture, graceful as it is in poetry, and
much as it adds to the beauty of real scenery, you could be content to part with
it for ever, so that it would leave you now. Steadily, steadily however, the mist
thickens, till you learn to think better of a London fog. Anon the sky darkens,
and first a slight and then a heavy rain sets in ; and wet, and weary, and dull,
you are glad ere mid-day is well over to take shelter by the snug fire of a village
inn. You order, for sorrow is dry though your clothes are damp, a noggin of
hot whisky, and, by the help of eggs, and rashers, and oaten cakes, manage to
while away the dreary moments, and get rid of a little ill temper.

Feeling refreshed, you resolve to make the shortest cut to your own inn, and
sally out pouring maledictions alike on the mists and the mountains — which you
vow to quit by the next conveyance ; when lo ! before you reach the door, you
catch sight of a streak of blue sky, and yonder is the peak of the fell with the
mists crumbling away from it, and rolling hurriedly down its sides. Another
and another mountain summit becomes visible. You hasten to ascend the
nearest ; and behold ! the wide landscape is alive and gladdening in the bright-
ness, and the blue lake rejoices as one newly awakened, and a glorious prospect
spreads before you, such as shall live in your memory for ever. These are the
moments worth journeying for It is not the most beautiful nor the grandest
scene that is always the most memorable ; but to be at one of those noble
places, and see it in one of those seldom-caught moments, that is worth years
of ordinary sight-seeing. And these moments often occur at times the most
unpromising."

The second division gives us Sheffield — quite equal in interest to the
lakes themselves, though the interest is of a different character. It will
seem absurd to many if we even hint at poetry as being connected with
the manufacture of steel and iron, for all mankind are more or less the
slaves of habit, and the very clang of the workman's hammer is opposed
in most minds to the sound of the lyre. They would willingly banish
the muse of poetry to rocks and woods, or send her adrift upon the
ocean; or, if they allow her to dwell in social life at all, it must be in
the camp or in the palace. But this is a very vulgar error — the mere
common-place of custom — the cry of those who fancy life has no other
road but that which they have always travelled, and which their fathers
and grandfathers trod before them.

Sheffield has been called " the metropolis of steel ; " and to him who
looks upon words as being something more than mere sounds, what a
field for reflection does such a name offer ! The mighty heart of this city
is iron, while fire is the clement that calls it into action — the Promethean

49 0 LITERATURE.

spark that animates the wonderful yet senseless body, and gives life to its
pulsations.

The account of the different manufactures given in this article is more
picturesque than scientific, and is therefore the better calculated to excite
the reader's attention, by awakening his imagination. In so doing, the
writer has evidently extended the sphere of his influence. Many will be
tempted by these graphic descriptions, who would have turned from
merely scientific details, as a thing in which they had no part or portion.

The third division of this part is devoted to Birkenhead, the young and
enterprising rival of the mighty Liverpool. This admirable town or
city — for in its rapid state of transition we hardly know how to name it
— may be truly said to be a creation of yesterday, so suddenly has it
started up from a humble village into a place of giant docks and mer-
chant palaces, with wide and capacious streets, in which the pulse of life
is beating quite as vigorously as in London. In this marvellous rapidity
of growth it will remind the reader of the towns in America, which are on
paper one day, and solid buildings on terra firma the next. There is,
however, one grand distinction between them. The American towns are
literally in the plight of the gentleman who much doubted whether he
ever had a grandfather — they have no antecedent. Now, this is not
altogether the case with Birkenhead : the ground on which it stands is
hallowed by the recollections of other times, when monks and friars lorded
it in this remote corner of Cheshire, till the hand of despotism drove them
forth, to make way for men who had neither their legal nor moral claims
to the possession.

The rise of Birkenhead is among the most interesting phenomena of
topographical history ; but this matter cannot be well understood without
some knowledge of the peculiar locality as well as of its previous state,
which are so admirably described by our author, that we can hardly do
better than borrow from him so much as may give the reader at least a
partial notion of the subject :—

" A map of Cheshire will shew that the north-western part of that county
forms a curiously-shaped peninsula, bounded on the north-east by the Mersey,
on the south-west by the Dee, and on the north-west by the sea. So far as the
eye can detect, the Dee is quite as well fitted for commerce as the Mersey ; its
estuary is very much wider, and Chester is not so far from its mouth as to seem
beyond the reach of shipping. Consequently we find that Chester was an im-
portant commercial city when Liverpool and its neighbours on the Mersey were
all but unknown. But unfortunately for the supremacy of the old city, the Dee be-
came by degrees so much choked up with sand, that navigation was brought nearly
to an end ; and the citizens had to cut an artificial channel, nine miles in length,
along the marshes, in order to keep up any connexion at all with the sea. At
high water, the mouth of the Dee forms a noble estuary, three miles in width ;
but at ebb tide it is nearly dry, and resembles an extensive dreary waste, covered
with sand and ooze, through which the river runs in a narrow and insignificant
stream.

Commerce, being thus shoaled out from the Dee, left old-fashioned Chester,
and took refuge in the Mersey ; where Liverpool has shewn what wonders may
be effected by untiring energy even on a shore troubled by many sand-banks and
shallow spots. We propose not here to dwell upon these Liverpool marvels :
our search is for a certain small stream which flows into the Mersey very near
its mouth, from the Cheshire side. This is the Wallasey. All parties, histo-
rians and geologists, agree that the two counties of Cheshire and Lancashire,
at one period, nearly joined where the Mersey now exists ; and that the wide

LlTERATtmE. 491

estuary of the Mersey has been formed (geologically speaking, in a compara-
tively modern period) by some eruption of the sea. The estuary is believed to
have been a sort of bog or morass, through which the narrow river flowed ; but
it is difficult now to say what connexion the ancient Wallasey Pool had with this
morass. It is enough for our purpose to know, that at the present time, (or
rather before the commencement of the recent operations) Wallasey Pool,
situated a little to the north-west of the village of Birkenhead, was a low
swampy spot, forming the estuary of a small river which emptied itself into the
Mersey. The land had for ages not only been waste, but the tide had ebbed
and flowed over it, without any effort having been made to reclaim the one or
enclose the other.

" This swampy spot became the germ of the prosperity of Birkenhead. The
name of Laird has for somewhat above twenty years been closely connected
with all that concerns Birkenhead ; and to the same name must we attach the
largest share in the operations that led to the changes at Wallasey Pool. The
late Mr. Laird, an iron ship-builder at Liverpool, purchased in 1824, of the lord
of the manor of Birkenhead, several acres of land on the shores of the Pool,
for the establishment of a ship-building yard ; and it is said that he paid about
fourpcnce per square yard for the land so purchased. From the outset he had
been convinced that W'allasey Pool was admirably calculated to furnish a noble
series of Docks ; and very soon after the establishment of the ship-yard he, in
conjunction with Sir John Tobin, purchased largely from the lord of the manor,
and had the Pool carefully surveyed by Telford, Stevenson and Nimmo. These
eminent engineers confirmed the correctness of Mr. Laird's opinion, by reporting
most favourably of the capabilities of the Pool. The corporation of Liverpool,
seeing the importance of the place, bought up nearly all the land surrounding
the Pool, and were willing to give Mr. Laird nine times as much for his land as
he had paid for it three years before. Whether the corporation intended to
make docks there, or whether they bought up the land to prevent docks from being
"made there, we will not stop to inquire ; but certain it is, that nearly twenty
years elapsed before anything was done in furtherance of the original scheme
for the docks."

Eventually the Corporation were induced to sell to Mr. Laird, though
at an enormous advance of price, enough land for the construction of his
intended docks, and from that moment may be dated the prosperity of
Birkenhead. Wealth, talent, and energy, were now all called into action ;
and the enterprising directors, shaking off the trammels of custom, wisely
and boldly profited by the errors as well as the genius that had been
shewn in similar undertakings. One of the most remarkable features in
the new scheme was the care with which they provided for the health and
comfort of the numerous workmen employed upon works of so much
magnitude : —

" These workmen's dwellings, then : what are they? One hardly knows at
the first glance what to think of them. They are so totally unlike anything of
the kind to which we have been accustomed, that a standard of comparison is
not easily suggested. They are not rows of cottages containing two or three
rooms each, fronted and backed by gardens. They are not scattered cottages,
speckling a valley and the side of a hill, like so many of our pretty old English
villages. On approaching near them, along one of the wide roads which will
one day form a chief street of Birkenhead^ they appear more like houses for the
upper classes of society ; and we feel puzzled how to associate them with the
requirements and limited wants of a working population. If we look at the
front and end elevations, there is, it must be owned, something out of the usual
order of things, in respect to workmen's dwellings. Let us, then, look closer,
and see wha are the details of arrangement.

" In a part of Birkenh: ad quite aloof from the general buildings of the town,

492 LITERATURE.

and situated at least a couple of miles north-west of Woodside Ferry, is a
beautiful Gothic Church, St. James's, now erecting from the designs of
Mr. Lang. This church, when the vast scheme of the neighbourhood is
completed, will occupy a centre, from which eight broad and handsome streets
will radiate in as many different directions; so that the church will, by-and-
bye, have one of the finest positions, relative to surrounding buildings, that
can often fall to the lot of such a structure. One of these incipient streets,
Illchester-road, and another westward of it, Stanley-road, enclose between them,
at the end nearest the church, a triangular piece of ground ; and as this ground
is scarcely half a mile distant from the uppermost or inmost of the Dock Com-
pany's works, it was selected as the site of the workmen's dwellings. On the
other hand, as the streets in the neighbourhood will probably ere long be
occupied by good houses, either for shops or private residences, it seemed desir-
able that the workmen's dwellings should not, by anything mean or poverty-
stricken in their appearance, clash with the general architectural appearance of
the whole. This seems to have been one of the principles which guided the
architect in the invention of his plans ; and the result is a highly curious one.
At the extreme corner, fronting the church, will be a school-house, capable of
accommodating five hundred children ; and at one of the other eight corners
fronting the church, between Corporation -road and Vyner-street, will be the
parsonage-house for the incumbent of the new church, when finished. Behind
the school house are the workmen's dwellings, presenting a frontage, or, perhaps
we may rather say, an end elevation, on two sides of a triangle ; so arranged that
the block of buildings altogether furnish 350 dwellings for workmen.

" In the first, place, the block is divided by parallel avenues into five or n'x
ranges of buildings. Each avenue is nicely paved and well drained, and has
handsome iron gates at each end to keep out vehicles ; thereby making the
avenue a capital play-ground for children ; while there is abundant room
for foot-passage on either side of the gates ; and the gates themselves can
be opened, if occasion requires. In each of the avenues are the fronts of
the houses on one side, and the backs of those on the other; so that no
avenue need be over-crowded by the ingress and egress of the respective
dwellers, All the avenues are named or numbered ; and a general system,
carried out by the proprietors, is adopted for the thorough cleansing and good
keeping of the avenues, and of the outsides of the dwellings generally.

" Then, as to the houses themselves. It is obvious, at a glance, that they are
planned on the French system, of having many complete dwellings in each house ;
but they have this most vital advantage over the large and lofty houses of Paris,
that the most efficient and scrupulous provisions are made for insuring ventila-
tion and drainage — the great source of mischief in ninety-nine hundredths of
all our poorer dwellings. There are but three or four street-doors in each
avenue ; or, rather, there are no street-doors at all ; for each house has a stone
passage, open to the street, from whence the staircase and the doors to the sepa-
rate dwellings proceed. Each house contains four floors, or flats, or stories, all
above ground (for there are no underground kitchens or cellars) ; and each
story is divided into two distinct dwellings, one on either side of the stone
staircase that runs up the middle of the house. The rooms forming each dwel-
ling open to each other ; and a door, opening from the outermost of these rooms
into the staircase, and properly provided with lock, bolts, keys, &c., forms, in
fact, the street-door for the family inhabiting that dwelling. The whole group
of houses, from end to end, are fire-proof, being formed of brick, stone, and iron,
wood- work [[being provided only where, for domestic comfort, such an arrange-
ment is desirable. And even where planking and other wood-work is to be seen,
it is so backed by brick, or iron, or stone, that an accidental fire would soon be
extinguished, for want of material to work upon."

Cambridge forms the last, and not the least interesting division of this
part ; but the space allotted to Birkeuhead will not allow us to devote
any attention to Alma Mater.

LITERATURE. 493

Part the Third contains Hampton Court, the Isle of Thanet, Man-
chester, and Norwich, all of them most attractive themes, but each of
which would require a paper to itself, to do it anything like justice. "We
shall therefore pass over the three first with this brief allusion to them,
and pause for a few moments upon Norwich, that city which was so
characteristically described by Fuller, in his "British Worthies," as being
" either a city in an orchard or an orchard in a city, so equally are houses
and trees blended in it." Much of this character has ceased to exist in
the present day, yet 'it still occupies an unusually large space in propor-
tion to its population, and seen from a distance there is a considerable
blending of trees and houses. It is only upon a nearer examination that
we discover close and crowded districts, and that the impression made
by the distant view is, if not destroyed, yet considerably weakened.
The suburbs, however, are richly wooded, and the whole is situated in
a fine open country, remarkable for its fertility.

Norwich was at one time the principal city in the East of England ; its
population is said to have been much greater than at the present day,
but to have suffered considerable diminution in 1348 from the plague.
This, ^however, does not seem very probable, as the number of houses
has increased since then — a tolerably plain proof of an increasing popu-
lation. The surest testimonial of its past greatness is the cathedral,
which, though neither the largest nor finest in the country, is yet a
magnificent and imposing edifice. It is surrounded too by everything
that can enhance its interest — the beautiful gardens of the episcopal
palace — the palace itself — the gateways leading to the cathedral pre-
cincts, with all their richness of architectural ornament — the chapel con-
structed upon one of its arches — the Sandling Ferry — and the Bishop's
Bridge. Some of these objects have begun to shew that time has been
at work upon them ; but though we may regret the ignorant neglect
that has allowed them to be thus fast going to ruin, yet it cannot be
denied that the interest of the whole is infinitely increased by such
touches of decay. The associations of other times gather more vividly
about the old building as the ornaments crumble and the buttresses are
broken ; infirmity has hollowed it ; decay has rendered it venerable ;
and a sort of sympathy arises with the senseless stone for the neglect it
is enduring.

Six and thirty churches — an immense number for a city like Norwich —
attest the piety of the past or present inhabitants. They belong to dif-
ferent ages, and of course exhibit different styles of architecture, and yet
they have that family likeness amidst all their variety of feature, which
is so aptly called by artists and antiquarians provincialism. We may
observe as an instance of this, that not one of them has either spire
or steeple, and most have square towers constructed of black flint, a
few only having round towers. Many of these are highly interesting,
and the same may be said of some %of the churches, more particularly
of St. Peter's, Mancroft, in which* is the monument of Sir Thomas
Browne, the celebrated author of Hydriotaphia and the Inquiry into
Vulgar Errors.

We have thus given a very hasty and imperfect sketch of what may
be expected in these interesting numbers, and now dismiss them with
our warmest recommendations,

494

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Abbes, Rachel, wife of Brian Abbess, esq.,
J. P. for co. Durham, 8th September,
at Cleadon House.

Aguilar, Grace, only dau. of the late
Emanuel Aguilar, of Hackney, 10th
September, aged 32.

Albertazzi, Madame, 25th Sept, aged 33,
of rapid consumption. This favourite
vocalist, whose maiden name was How-
son, was born in 1814, and was placed
by her father, a teacher of music, under
Signor A. Costa, where she met with
M. Albertazzi, to whom she was mar-
ried at the early age of fifteen. After
residing abroad for several years she
made her debut at her Majesty's Thea-
tre, the 19th of April 1837, in Rosini's
" Cenerentola," and was highly success-
ful. She sang frequently at the Ancient
and Philharmonic Concerts, and in
1840, she was engaged at Drury Lane.
She last year sang at the Princess's
Theatre, but, in consequence of indis-
position, her voice frequently failed
her, and, at length she was obliged to
relinquish all her dramatic engage-
ments. Madame Albertazzi's voice was
a mezzo-soprano inclining to the con-
tralto, of a very extensive compass; and
her style of singing, when in her zenith,
was of the florid school. The manner
of her execution of " Non piu mesta,"
on her appearance at the Italian Opera,
created a perfect sensation; audiences
were in rapturss, and the press was
loud in her praise.

Ashby, Robert, Esq., of Camberwell, 18th
September, aged 68.

Atkinson, Joseph, Esq., of Sewardstone
Green, near Waltham Abbey, 13th of
October, aged 86.

Austria, the Archduke Frederick Ferdi-
nand Leopold, fourth son of the late
eminent Field Marshal, the Archduke
Charles, uncle of the present Emperor,
5th inst. The Archduke Frederick was
born on the 14th May, 1821; and, be-
side being a military officer, served in
the Austrian navy. In 1844 he suc-
ceeded, as Commander-in-Chief of the
Marine Forces of Austria in the Adria-
tic, to the late Admiral Bandiera the
father of the unfortunate young men
who were shot in Calabria. The Arch-
duke Frederick died on the 5th instant,
at Venice, of fever, or, as it is believed,
by many of cholera. His Imperial High-
ness was unmarried.

Awdry, William Henry, Esq., of the Pad-

docks, Wilts, 8th October. This gen-
tleman was the member of an ancient
and honourable house, whose ancestor
came to this country in the retinue of
William the Norman.

He was the third and last survivor of
four sons, the issue of Ambrose Awdry,
Esq., of Sund, by the daughter and
heiress of John Deline, Esq., of Ronde
Ford House, and Earl Stoke Park, in
the same county. During many years
he held the responsible office of Deputy
Receiver General of Wilts, as well as
several other important private trusts;
and executed the duties of all with the
zeal and integrity of a man of business,
and the urbanity and complaisance of
a gentleman. In every relation of life
he was distinguished by conduct and
habits the most amiable and unobtru-
sive, exemplary and pious; and to a
numerous family (six sons and two
daughters) he leaves the noble inhe-
ritance of a " good name."

Bannatyne, John, Esq., of Bernard-street,
7th Oct., aged 83.

Barclay, Emma Lucy, dau. of Robert
Barclay, Esq., Banker, 21st Sept.

Barker, Ann, relict of the Rev. Alfred
Barker, Landawie, co. Radnor, 19th
October.

Barnes, Ada Mary, youngest dau. of John
Barnes, Esq., of Chorley Wood House,
Herts, 30th October, aged 10.

Barrett, Samuel, Esq., Lincoln's Inn, 15th
September.

Barren, Edward, Esq., of Bloomsbury-
square, 2nd October, aged 52.

Bateman, Emma, >dfe of the Rev. Gre-
gory Bateman, M.A., Chaplain of Oat-
lands,- V.D.L., 31st January.

Bayley, William, Esq., of Stretham and
Tees, son of the late Dr. Bayley, 5th
October, aged 54.

Beckett, Mary, relict of the late John
Beckett, Esq., 27th Sept., at Herfuld,
Sussex, aged 90.

Bennett, John, Esq., of Ipswich, 22dSept.

Bevington, Henry, Esq., formerly of Cam-
berwell, 16th Sept., at the Island of
Sark, aged 45.

Birch, Jonathan, Esq., of London, at the
Royal Palace, Bellevue, near Berlin,
8th Sept.

Bishop, the Rev. William, M.A., of Corpus
Christi College, Cambridge, 15th Oct.,
aged 29, at Portsmouth.

Bjornstjcrna, Count, at Stockholm. His
Excellency Count Bjornstjerna was am-

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

495

bassador from Sweden at the Court of
St. James's, General Inspector of Artil-
lery, and Knt. of various Orders. This
distinguished soldier and able diploma-
tist was son of the late Count Bjornst-
jerna, Swedish Ambassador of the Diet
of Rosenburg, by his wife Wilhelmina
Van Hager, a German lady. He was
born 20th Oct., 1779, and early entered
the military service of his country. In
1808, he fought with distinction in the
campaign against Russia; and in 1813,
went to Hamburg, and with his regi-
ment occupied Vierlander. He served
likewise in the battles of Dennewetz
and Leipsic; and concluded the Lubeck
capitulation with Lallemand, and the
armistice with the Prince of Hesse.
Count Bjornstjerna was known as a
writer on politics, and national econo-
my, and published several works on
the East Indies.

Blick, J. G., Esq., of the Middle Temple,
Special Pleader, 21st Oct.

Boddington, Susannah, dau. of the late
Thomas Boddington, Esq., 5th Oct.

Bosanquet, the Rt.Hon. Sir John Bernard,
late Judge of Common Pleas, 25th Sept.
This learned Judge, who sat on the
Bench of the Common Pleas for twelve
years, from 1830 to 1842, received his
education at Christ Church, Oxford ; was
called to the Bar in 1800; obtained the
Coif in 1814; and became King's Ser-
geant in 1827. In 1835 and 1836,
he was one of the Commissioners for
executing the office of Lord Chan-
cellor. Sir John Bosanquet descended
from an ancient family of Languedoc.
His immediate ancestor David de Bo-
sanquet, sought refuge in England at
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes ;
and married, in 1697, an English lady,
Elizabeth, daughter of Claude Hayes,
Esq. By her he left several children,
the eldest of whom, David Bosanquet,
a merchant of London, gained distinc-
tion as an antiquary; many of the most
valuable of the Greek Medals in the
Hunterian Museum were collected by
him, during his travels. This gentle-
man's next brother, Samuel, of the
Forest House, Essex, was father of
Samuel Bosanquet, Esq., Governor of
the Bank, A.D. 1792, who, in that year
presided at the memorable meeting of
the merchants, bankers, and traders of
the city of London, held for the pur-
pose of declaring their attachment to
the British Constitution, as established
in 1688, in opposition to the republican
principles of the French Revolution.
This eminent banker died in 1806, leav-
ing, by Eleanor his wife, daughter of
Henry Lanney Hunter, Esq., three

sons: Samuel, of the Forest House,
Essex, and of Dingestow, co. Mon-
mouth; Charles, of the Rock, Northum-
berland ; and John -Bernard, the learned
Judge, whose death we record. His
Lordship married, in 1804, Mary Anne,
eldest daughter of Richard Lewis, Esq.,
of Llantillo Grossenny, and had one
son Lewis Bernard, who predeceased
his father, without issue.

Bourchier, Emma Audrey, youngest dau.
of the late James Bourchier, Esq., of
Little Berkhampstead, 18th Oct.

Burgess, John, Esq., at St. Leonard's,
Bucks, 13th Oct., aged 74.

Burgoyne, Thomas John, Esq., of Straf-
ford-place, Oxford -street, 20th Oct.,
aged 72. Mr. Burgoyne has died
deeply lamented. He claimed descent
from John, second son of Sir John Bur-
goyne, Bart., of Sutton Park, co. Bed-
ford. He leaves two sons, Thomas and
John Charles, and several daughters.
He was the trustee (with the late Dr.
Otter, Bishop of Chichester) of the Cha-
rities for Sutton, bequeathed by his
kinsman, Montagu Borgoyne, Esq.

Burn, Sarah Sophia, wife of John S.Burn,
Esq., 21st Sept.

Byles, Nathaniel Byles, Esq., of the Hill
House, Ipswich, 26th Sept., aged 75.

Cabell, Thomas S., Esq., ofiClapham,
and formerly of the East India House,
6th Oct.

Campbell, CapL James, R.N., 2d Oct.

Campbell, Elizabeth Hume,wife of Archi-
bald Campbell, Esq., of Glendaruel, at
Glendaruel, Argyleshire. 16th Septem-
ber, daughter of Dr. Hume, of Cur-
zon-street, London.

Capper, Samuel James, Esq., at Leyton,
Essex, 12th Oct., aged 57.

Capron, John Skuckburgh, Esq., late of
the 23d Royal Welch Fusileers, and a
Captain in the Northamptonshire Mili-
tia, 18th Sept., at Southwick Hall,
aged 32.

Cave, Louisa Rosamond, eldest dau. of
Sir John Cam Browne Cave, 39th Sept.,
aged 28.

Claughton, Miss, 5th Oct., aged 68.

Cooper, Charlotte Matilda, wife of Wil-
liam Cooper, Esq., of Turnliam Green,
15th Oct.

Coulthart, William, Esq., of Coulthart,
co. Wigtown, and of Collyn, co. Dum-
fries, Chief of the name Coulthart, on
the 7th of October, at his residence,
Pasture House, co. Cumberland. This
gentleman was born in 1774, and, like
many of the landed gentry, the inci-
dents of his well-spent life were chiefly
confined to his native county. There,
however, he was well known by his
agricultural improvements, charitable

496

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

donations, superior intelligence, and
high moral rectitude. Few men, com-
paratively speaking, ever enjoyed so
large a share of private esteem and
regard as did Mr. Coulthart, and his
deeply regretted death has created a
blank amongst his friends, and in the
neighbourhood where he resided, that
is never likely to be filled up. He was
the sole surviving son and heir of the
late William Coulthart, Esq., of Coult-
hart, by Janet, his wife, daughter of
John Macnaught, Esq., of Milton Hall,
in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, and
was thus, paternally, the direct lineal
descendant of that ancient and honour-
able Scottish chieftain, Sir Roger de
Coulthart, knight, who distinguished
' himself at the Battle of Aberbrothic,
13th January, 1445-6, and fell at the
siege of Roxburgh Castle, 17th Sept.
1460. By Helen, his wife, (who sur-
vives him), daughter of the late John
Ross, Esq., of Dalton, co. Dumfries, a
descendant of the Rosses, of Hawks-
head, co. Renfrew, and a collateral re-
lation of the Boyles, Earls of Glasgow,
Mr. Coulthart has left a son and a
daughter, namely Mr. John Ross Coul-
thart, of Croft House, Lancashire, who
succeeds to the estates of the family and
the chiefship of the name; and Mar-
garet, wife of James Macguffie, Esq., of
Bolton-wood House, co. Cumberland.

Crawford Charles Venner, Esq., formerly
of the India House, 8th Oct., at Bristol,
aged 47.

Cristall, Joshua, one of the originators of
the Society of Painters in Water Co-
lours, and many years President of that
Institution, at his residence St. John's
Wood, on the 8th Oct., aged 80.

Croft, Margaret, relict of the late Sir Rich-
ard Croft, Bart., M, D., 24th Sept.

Crook, James Martin, Esq., of Brook-st.,
late of Bletchingly, 28th Sept.

Croucher, Joseph, Esq., late of James's-
street, Buckingham Gate, 16th Oct.,
aged 48.

Curran, Miss Amelia, at Rome, 30th Oct.

Curzon, Alfred, -only child of the Hon.
Sidney Roper Curzon, 3d Oct., aged 6.

Custance, A. F., King's Scholar, Eton,
16th Sept., aged 18.

Dallas, Marianne, wife of the Rev. Alex-
ander Dallas, Rector of Wonston,
Hants, 6th Oct.

Dashwood, Vice Admiral Sir Charles,
K.C.B., 21st Sept.

Davies, the Rev. James, M.A., Rector of
Shire, Newton, &c., 19th Sept

Dawes, the Rev. William, Rector of St.
John's, Montreal, 5th Sept., aged 38.

Dealtry, the Venerable Archdeacon, Rec-
tor of Clapham, 15th Oct. Dr, Deal-

try, a sound Churchman, a classical
scholar, and an eloquent Divine, has
died deeply and sincerely lamented.
The melancholy event occurred at
Brighton, on the 16th instant. He re-
ceived his education at the University
of Cambridge, where he graduated in
1796, as Second Wrangler, and where
he afterwards obtained a Fellowship at
Trinity College. The important Rec-
tory of Clapham he held for thirty
years, and to the ministerial duties of
that large parish he was incessant in
his devotion. On the preferment of
Dr. Wilberforce to the see of Oxford,
Dr. Dealtry was appointed to the Arch-
deaconry of Surrey; and in a visitation
charge delivered almost immediately
after by the newly-consecrated Dioce-
san, his Lordship spoke in the highest
terms of the Archdeacon, alluding to
him " as one of the most practical men
in the Church, an accomplished scholar,
a sound Divine, a generous friend, and
one deeply imbued with that holy faith
of which he was the eloquent ex-
pounder." By his death, the Rectory
of Clapham, as well as the Archdea-
conry of Surrey, become vacant. The
latter is in the gift of the Bishop of
Winchester.

Dickers, Lieut. --Gen. Sir Samuel Trevor,
K.C.H., Senior Col. Commandant of
Royal Engineers, llth Oct., aged 83.

Donald, Mrs., relict of the late Capt.
James Donald, 94th Regt., 23d Oct.

Douglas, Major Charles, of Her Majesty's
61st Regiment, eldest son of Lieut. -
Gen. Sir Howard Douglas, Bart.,
G.C.B., at Umballa, on the 29th of
July.

Dowler, John, Esq., 1st Oct., at Ashing-
thon, Essex, aged 36.

Duff, Mary Barbara, elder dau. of Charles
Robert Duff, Esq., of Dundee, 7th
Oct.

Dyne, Mrs. Lucy, at Hammersmith, 15th
Oct.

East, Lillie Campbell, wife of Charles W.
C. East, Esq., Lieut. H.M. 15th Regt.,
3d August, at Candy, Ceylon.

English, Mrs. Thomas, at Spring gardens,
near Hull, 26th Sept., aged 70.

Essex, Timothy, Esq., Music Doctor of
Magdalen Hall, Oxford, 27th Sept.,
aged 83.

Fernandes, Alexander, Esq., Deputy
Commander General, 23d Sept., at
Spa, Belgium, aged 82.

Fisher, Isaac, Esq., 9th Oct., at Lenton
Abbey, near Nottingham.

Fisher, Major Thomas, Commander 1st
Assam Light Cavalry, eldest son of the
late Thomas Fisher, of London, 24th
July, at Assam,

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

497

Fletcher, Henry, Esq., many years Capt.
77th Regiment, 17th Sept., aged 90.

Floud, Henry Scott, Esq., of Withycombe
Cottage, near Exmouth, 26th Sept.

Foakes, John, Esq., at Woodstead, co.
Norfolk, 8th Oct., aged 58.

Forbes, the Kev. Dr., 13th Oct. This
learned and able Professor for thirty
years filled the Chair of Humanity in
King's College, Aberdeen. Dr. Forbes
was not only a good scholar in the
common acceptation of the word, but
had devoted a great deal of time to
scientific pursuits, in which his excel-
lence was so marked, that the Senatus
unanimously appointed him to lecture
on Chemistiy. " In this department,"
says a Northern Contemporary, " and,
indeed, in everything connected with
the progress of the human mind, the
departed gentleman displayed great in-
genuity and thorough independence of
thought." At one time, Dr. Forbes
performed the duties of minister at
Boharm, but he was afterwards re-
moved to Old Aberdeen.

Gamier, the Right Hon. Lady Harriet,
at Tunbridge Wells, 10th Oct., relict of
the late Rev. Wm. Garnier, of Rookes-
bury, in the county of Hampshire. Her
ladyship was eldest daughter of the
Hon. Brownlow North, late Lord Bishop
of Winchester, and sister of the Earl
of Guildford.

George, Mrs. Samuel, of Denmark Hill,
Camberwell, 28th Sept.

Gibson, Robert, Esq., late Battalion Sur-
geon of the Grenadier Guards, aged 63,
16th Oct.

Giles, Anne Mary, dau. of James Giles,
Esq., late of Haling Park, Croydon,
30th Sept.

Glascock, Wm. Nugent, Esq., Capt. R.N.
This amusing writer, whose nautical
novels and frequent contributions to
periodical literature have so long de-
lighted the public, died in Ireland a
short time since. He had quitted Dub-
lin apparently in perfect health and
spirits, to pay a visit to his relations at
Ballynrowan, near Baltinglass, but on
stepping from the stage coach into a
friend's carriage, he was seized with
apoplexy, and died almost immediately.
The gallant officer, whose commission
as Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, bears
date in 1808, stood high in the estima-
tion of his profession, and the admi-
ralty. In 1801, he fought in the Ven-
geance at Copenhagen; was Mate of the
Barfleur in Sir Robert Calder's action,
and served, while Lieutenant of the
Denmark, in the Walcheren expedition.
In 1832, he was posted from the Orestes
for his firm and prudent conduct in
VOL. iv. — NO. xrx

command of a squadron of small vessels
in the Douro, during the struggle be-
tween Dons Pedro and Miguel. A few
days before his death, Captain Glascock
had left Newry on retiring from the
office of Inspector under the Poor Re-
lief Act; and the fact of his having
been presented with twenty-two public
addresses from his District Committees,
proves he was eminently calculated to
command and to excite the co-opera*
tion of those who served with him. He
leaves a widow and family,

Gordon, The Right Hon. Sir Robert, G.
C.B., late H.B.M., Ambassador at Aus-
tria, 8th Oct. This distinguished Diplo-
matist died suddenly, at Balmorral,
Aberdeenshire. He was younger bro-
ther of the present Earl of Aberdeen,
being fifth son of George, Lord Haddo,
by Charlotte, his wife, youngest dau. of
William Baird, Esq., of Newbyth. Sir
Robert, who was born in 1791, gradu-
ated at Christ Church, Oxford, and en-
tered the diplomatic service in 1810,
when he accompanied the embassy to
Persia. He subsequently acted as Secre-
tary of Legation and Minister Plenipo-
tentiary at the Hague ; and, in the
latter capacity, represented, for ten
years, his Sovereign at the Court of
Vienna. In 1826 he proceeded to Bra-
zil, as Envoy Extraordinary; and, in
1828, was appointed Ambassador to
Constantinople. His last official ap-
pointment was the important one of
Ambassador Extraordinary to the
Emperor of Austria.

Greenhill, Eliza Jane, wife of C. B. Green-
hill, Esq., Ordnance Storekeeper, Corfu,
31st Aug.

Gribble, John Baker, Esq., late of Trinity
College, Cambridge, 21st Sept., aged
29.

Grierson, Andrew, of Edinburgh, 23rd
Sept.

Grimble, William, Esq., of Albany- street,
14th Oct., aged 51.

Grimwood, Thomas, Esq., of Wood-
bridge, Suffolk, 18th Sept., aged 65.

Grosett, Rear Admiral Walter, 21st Sept.,
aged 80.

Haden, Annie, wife of the Rev. J. Clarke
Haden, Rector of Hutton, Essex, 24th
Sept.

Hall, William, Esq., of Leyton, Essex,
llth Oct., aged 89.

Hann, Maria Emma, youngest dau. of
George Hann, Esq., of Greenwich, 19th
Oct., aged 17.

Hardurck, Alfred, Esq., M.D., at Ken-
sington, 8th Oct., aged 59.

Harris, Henrietta St. Clair, wife of Dr.
Harris, and dau. of the late Lieutenant -
Colonel Kelly, at Boulogne, 17th Oct.

I? N

498

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Harvey, Commander Charles Bernard,
R.N., 4th Oct., aged 63.

Haynes, Elizabeth, relict of David Haynes,
Esq., of Tillingbourne Lodge, Surrey,
27th Sept.

Hayward, Richard, Esq., Colonial Sur-
veyor and Engineer for Sierra Leone,
2nd July, at Sierra Leone.

Hayward, Charles A., Esq., 3rd Oct., at
Bayswater.

Hele, Sarah, wife of the Rev. George
Selly Hele, and youngest dau. of the
late William Stanford, Esq., of Preston,
4th Oct.

Henry, Mary, wife of Captain Clifford
Henry, 48th Regiment, llth Oct., aged
25.

Herbert, Horatio, Esq., of Oxford-terrace,
12th Oct., aged 57.

Heron, Catherine Jane, youngest dau. of
the late Major Basil R. Heron, of the
Royal Artillery, 23rd Sept.

Hill, Mrs. James Barton, 7th Oct.

Hillas, Captain, 26th Sept., at Bayswater,
aged 77.

Hodgson, the Rev. William, D.D., Mas-
ter of St. Peter's, Cambridge, 16th Oct.
Dr. Hodgson was the thirty-seventh
Master of St. Peter's, since the founda-
tion of the College. At the period of
his decease, he was in the forty-seventh
year of his age, and the tenth of his
mastership. His entrance at the Uni-
versity bears date in 1819, and his Ba-
chelor's degree in 1823 — a year known
as " Airey's year," from the fact of the
Astronomer Royal having been Senior
Wrangler on that occasion. Mr. Hodg-
son held the place of Eleventh Wrang-
ler. In 1826, he proceeded to his
Master's degree; in 1833, was created
B.D.; and, in 1838, obtained the Pre-
sidency of St. Peter's, at the death of
the Venerable Dr. Barnes; and, very
shortly after, he became D.D. Few
members of the learned community of
which he formed part were more uni-
versally beloved and respected. For
some time past, he had been in a de-
clining state of health, but no immediate
danger was apprehended until shortly
before the fatal termination of hia ill-
ness. The College Chapel will be hung
with black, and all outward testimonies
of respect to the deceased Principal will
be observed by the authorities. Dr.
Hodgson married, in 1838, Charlotte,
daughter of General Tarleton, of Ches-
ter, and leaves issue, two sons and one
daughter.

Hood, Mrs. Henry S., eldest dau. of the
late John Sweeting, Esq , of Hunting-
don, 4th Oct., aged 27.

Hood, Mrs. Charlotte, at Ramsgate, 4th
Oct.

Horseley, the very Rev. Heneage, Dean of

Brechin, 6th Oct., aged 72.
Howard, Henry, Esq., R.A., 5th Oct.,

aged 77. Mr. Howard, the Royal
Academician, was Secretary to the
Academy, and the Professor of Paint-
ing in that Institution. The profes-
sional career of this distinguished artist
commenced in 1794, when he sent from
Rome, where he was then residing,
" The Dream of Cain," from Gesner's,
" Death of Abel," for the Royal Aca-
demy Exhibition of that year. In the
following season he was living in the
Strand, and exhibited at Somerset
House " Puck," from " Midsummer
Night's Dream," "Ariel and Satan
awakening in the Burning Lake," and,
for nearly forty years, he continued to
contribute without intermission to the
annual displays of the Royal Academy.
In 1801 he was elected an associate;
and, in 1808, an Academician of that
Corporation; and, at the period of his
decease, was the third senior Royal
Academician. On the death of Mr.
Richards, in 1811, Mr. Howard was ap-
pointed Secretary to the Academy, the
duties of which office he continued to
discharge till his advanced years ren-
dered the services of a deputy necessary,
and Mr. Knight was nominated as such.
Mr. Howard filled for some years the
important office of Professor of Paint-
ing to the Academy, to which he was
appointed in 1833. Although devoted
throughout a long life to the poetic por-
tion of his art, Mr. Howard at one time
applied much of his practice to portrait
painting. Numerous and excellent as
were his early productions, he does not
appear to have met with many patrons.
One, however, was a host in himself, and
this was Sir John Soane, who was a
valued friend. Several of Mr. Howard's
pictures now adorn the Soane Museum
in Lincoln's-inn -fields.

Howard, Henrietta Maria Charlotte, re-
lict of the late Edmund Alexander
Howard, Esq., of Thropnall Hall and
York-place, 27th Sept.

Hume, Anne, relict of the Rev. Thomas
Henry Hume, late one of the Canons
Residentiary of Salisbury, at Torquay,
after a short illness, 13th Oct., aged
78.

Jackson, Frances Amelia, the beloved
wife of Thomas Jackson, Esq., and only
daughter of the late Mr. Geo. William
Prall, of Fleet street, London, on the
24th of August last, at Bathurst, on the
River Gambia, in the 22nd year of her
age.

Keddel, Ambrose, Esq., 7th October,
aged 79.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

499

King, the Rev. Thomas, aged 78, at Bed-
ford, 13th Oct.

Kerby, Capt. Waller, 29th Regiment,

4th Aug., in India, aged 27.
Ladbroke, Henry, Esq., 7th Oct., aged
74.

Laing, Mrs. Margaret, of Villiers street,
Strand, 14th Oct.

Laking, Mrs., relict of the late Francis
Laking, Esq., at Brompton, 21st Sept.

Lancaster, Emma Elizabeth, eldest dau.
of John Lancaster, Esq., of Odiham,
Hants.

Leece, Mrs., at Queen Anne street, 19th
Sept., aged 93.

Lewis, Herbert, Esq., Alderman of Bead-
ing, 31st Sept., aged 71.

Lobb, Charles Graham, son of William
Lobb, Esq., 18th Oct., aged 15.

Locke, Henry Sampson, Esq., youngest
son of the late John Locke, Esq., of
Walthamstow, Essex, 10th Oct., aged
50.

Lofft, Robert Emlyn, Esq., of Troston
Hall, near Bury St. Edmunds, 20th
Sept., aged 64.

Lowry, James, Esq., Com. R.N., 8th
Oct.

Mac- Alester, Charles Somerville, of Loup,
at his residence, Kennox House, Ayr-
shire, on Friday, 7th Oct., in the
83rd year of his age. This gentleman,
Lieut. -Colonel-Commandant of the 1st
Regiment of Ayrshire Local Militia,
and a Deputy Lieut, of the County,
was Chief of the Clan Allaster of
Kintyre, and descended in a direct
line from Alexander, eldest son of
Angus Mor, Lord of the Isles, A. D.
1824. He married, in 1796, Janet,
dau. and heiress of William Somer-
ville, of Kennox, who still survives
him. By this lady he had three daugh-
ters and two sons, the eldest of whom,
Charles Somerville Mac-Alester, suc-
ceeds to the honours and estates.

Mackay, Lieut.-Colonel John, 82nd Regi-
ment, 9th July, at the age of 62 years,
of an attack of dysentery, at London,
Upper Canada, where his regiment was
stationed. Colonel Mackay, who was
the only son of the late Rev. John
Mackay, Rector of Loughgeil, in the
co. of Antrim, entered the army in the
year 1804, at the early age of 18, as
Ensign in the 82nd Regiment, and had,
therefore, served upwards of 42 years.
He took part in nearly the entire of the
Peninsula War; was present at the
seige and capture of Cindad, Rodrigo,
Talavera, &c. ; was twice wounded at
Barossa, and was specially compli-
mented by General Grahame, for his
gallant conduct upon that occasion.
He fought also at the battle of Corunna,

where General Sir John Moore fell;
and, at the siege of Copenhagen, he
volunteered, and led the Forlorn Hope,
which, at his special request, was en-
tirely composed of Irishmen. He ac-
companied his regiment to America in
the last war, and was present at the
battles of Quebec, Niagara, Montreal,
&c.; subsequently, after remaining
thirteen years in the Mauritius, and
seven years in Jamaica, he was on duty
for the second time, in North America,
where he fell a victim to the pestilence
and disease with which that country
has been unfortunately visited this last
summer. Though a rigid disciplin-
arian, Colonel Mackay was greatly be
loved by his officers and men. His
family, which was a branch of the
ancient and noble family of Mackay,
Lords of Rea, in Scotland, settled at
an early period in Lisburn, in the co.
of Antrim. His grandfather, Joseph
Mackay, Esq., was magistrate of the
county for upwards of forty years ; and
removed from Lisburn to the town of
Antrim, where he possessed consider-
able property. Colonel Mackay died
unmarried; and his property is inherited
by the children of his only sister, who
was married to Dr. O'Neil, of Com-
ber, co. of Down.

Mackenzie, John Andrew, Esq., at St.
Helens, Jersey, 25th Sept.

Mackintosh, James, infant son of H. E.
Robert James Mackintosh, Governor
of St. Christophers, 29th Aug.

Mathias, Jane, wife of Major William
Mathias, 62nd Regiment, 21st of Sept.

Maynard, Georgina, wife of Charles May-
nard, Esq., J.P., 22nd of July, at Gra-
ham's Town, Cape of Good Hope.

M'Clintosh, Elizabeth Katherine, wife of
G. F. M'Clintosh, Bengal Civil Ser-
vice, 5th Aug.

M'Cormick, George, son of the late Wil-
liam M'Cormick, Esq., of Upper
Gower street, formerly of the Island of
St. Croix, llth Oct., aged 42.

M'Nair, Philip Barton, third son of the
late Lieut-Colonel James M'Nair,
K.H., 73rd Regiment, of Greenfield,
near Glasgow, at Argyne-house, Ar-
gyleshire, llth Oct., aged 19.

Meek, Daniel B., Esq., of Holmesdale
House, Rutfield, Sussex, 18th Oct.,
aged 38,

Meriton, Jane, relict of the late Capt. R.
Meriton, E. I. C., llth Oct.

Miles, Lieut. James, 29th Bombay, H. I.

Miley, Anne, wife of Miles Miley, Esq.,
at Kensington, 14th Oct.

Mitchell, Mrs. Jemima, 27th Sept.

Moeller, Sir Lewis, K.G.H., 24th Sept.
aged 77.

500

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Moggridge, the ReT. W. H., M.A., at

Streatham, 15th Oc».
Morgan, Mary Anne Susanna, eldest
dau. of Charles Morgan, Esq., of Bed-
ford How, 16th Oct.

Morgan, John, Esq., Member of Council,
Jl. C. Surgeons, &e., 4th Oct., at
Tottenham.
Morrison, Lamare, Esq., of Gray's Inn,

27th Sept., aged 33.
Moss, Mrs. Sophia, of Sloane street, 30th

Sept.

Neville, Julia, 5th dau. of the late Jona-
than Neville, Esq., of Highbury place,
28th Sept.

Nicholas, Captain, at Bath, 14th Oct.,
aged 75. He was formerly in the 3rd
Regiment of Foot, (or Buffs), and
served with Lord Hill's division of the
army throughout the Peninsula war,
at the close of which, through ill-
health, he retired into the 2nd R. V. B.
Nockalls, Lewis, Esq., Architect, 13th

Oct., aged 59.
Norderling, Capt., of the Swedish Life

Guards, at Stockholm, 10th Sept.
North, Miss Mary, of Clapham Common,

29th Sept., aged 67.
Oddie, Henry Hoyle, Esq., of Colney

House, Herts, 22nd Sept., aged 69.
Oddy, Samuel Augustus, Esq., late of

Brighton and Islington, 10th Oct.
O'Gorman, Charles T. Esq., late H.B.M.
Colonel- General in Mexico, 29th Sept.
Ottey, Anna Frederica, wife of Lieut. -
Colonel Philip D. Ottey, Bombay
Army, 25th Sept.
Panlet, the Lady Charles, at Lombardy,

6th Oct.
Peake, Richard Brinsley, Esq., 4th Oct.,

aged 55.

Penn, Isabella, relict of the late Gran-
ville Penn, Esq., of Stoke Park, Bucks,
30th Sept., aged 76.

Pennington, Miss, formerly of Kensing-
ton, 25th Sept.

Perevia, Lieut.-Colonel, Bengal Artil-
lery, at Calcutta, 9th Aug.
Perigal, Arthur, Esq., at Edinburgh,

19th Sept, aged 63.
Perkins, Ambrose Douglas, Esq., at

Darlington, 13th Oct., aged 20.
Phillips, the Rev. George Peregrine,
M.A., Curate of Glenfield, co. Leices-
ter, 25th Sept.

Philips, Sir George, Bart., 3rd Oct.,
aged 81. This gentleman was only
son of the late Thomas Philips, Esq.,
of Sedgley, by Mary, his wife, dau.
and heir of John Rider, Esq., of Man-
chester; and grandson of John Phil-
ips, Esq., of Heath House, co. Staf-
ford, the representative of a family,
seated, for some centuries, in that
county. Sir George obtained his

Baronetcy by creation, 21st Feb., 1828\,
He married, 16th Oct., 1788, Sarah
Anne, eldest dau. of Nathaniel Phil-
lips, Esq., of Hollinghurst ; and by
her, who died in 1844<has left an only
son, the present Sir George Richard
Philips, second Baronet of Weston and
Sedgley, who has long had a seat in
the House of Commons, as Member,
successively, for Steyning, Kiddermin-
ster, and Poole. He is married to the
eldest daughter of the second Lord
Waterpark, and has three daughters,
the eldest of whom married, in 1839,
Adam, Viscount Duncan. Mr. Mark
Philips, the late representative in Par-
liament for Manchester, is nearly re-
lated to the Baronet's family.
Pigott, Sir Thomas, Bart., 7th Oct.
This gentleman was eldest son of the
late Sir Thomas Pigott, of Knapton, on
whom the title of Baronet was con-
ferred in 1808, and grandson, mater-
nally, of the Right Hon. Thomas
Kelly, one of the Judges of the Com-
mon Pleas in Ireland. The family
from which he derived, a scion of the
Pigotts of Dysart, claimed descent
from Picot, Baron de Boorne, in Nor-
mandy, one of the forty knights who
accompanied William the Conqueror.
Sir Thomas, bora 12th October, 1796,
served early in life in the Horse
Guards, in which distinguished regi-
ment he attained the rank of Captain.
He married, 24th Oct., 1831, Geor-
giana-Anne, daughter of William
Brummell, Esq., of Wivenhoe, Essex,
and has left issue. His decease oc-
curred at Dullingham House, near
Newmarket, the seat of his brother,
William Pigott, Esq.
Poole, Barnet M., Esq., 17th Oct.,

aged 47.

Powell, Philip, Esq., late of H. M.
Theatre, and the Philharmonic and
Ancient Concerts, 15th Oct.
Prescott, William Budd, Esq., at Ever-

ton, near Liverpool, 26th Sept.
Price, Richard Alexander, Esq., Bar-
rister at Law, at Boulogne, 27th
Sept.
Ravenor, George, Esq., of Brompton,

5th Oct., aged 54.
Ray, Major-General Philip, at Eldo

House, 14th Oct., aged 72.
Renell, William Trehawke, Esq., 26th

Sept., aged 60.
Revell, Henry R,, Esq., of Round Oak,

Egham, 2nd Oct., aged 80.
Rickerby, Mrs. Francis, of Sloane street,

8th Oct.
Ricketts, Thomas, Esq., late of the R. N.,

27th Sept., aged 86.
Robinson, Elizabeth, relict of the late

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

501

Nicholas Robinson, Esq., of Great
Marlow, 16th Oct., aged 73.

Robinson, Sir Richard, Bart., 2nd Oct.,
Sir Richard was eldest son of the late
Sir John Robinson, Bart., of Rokeby
Hall, who was created a Baronet in
1819, under the designation, having
changed his patronymic of Friend for
the surname of his maternal ancestors,
his mother, Grace, having been sister
of Richard Robinson, Lord Rokeby,
Archbishop of Armagh. Sir Richard
was born 4th of March, 1787, the
eldest of eighteen children, and mar-
ried, in 1813, the lady Helena Eleanor
Moor, daughter of Stephen, second
Earl of Mount Cashel, by whom he
has left, with other issue, a sou and
successor, the present Sir John Ste-
phen Robinson, Bart., of Rokeby, an
officer in the 60th Rifles, who is mar-
ried to Miss Denny, granddaughter of
the celebrated Lord Collingwood. The
deceased Baronet, who succeeded to
his father's estate in 1832, was a De-
puty Lieutenant of the county in which
he resided, and served as its High
Sheriffin 1844.

Rochfort, Brevet-Major Cowper, 27th
Regiment of Madras Native Infantry,
7th July.

Rolfe, widow of the late Capt. Rolfe, of
the Tower Hamlets Militia, 30th Sept.

Rooke, William Miche, Esq., Professor of
music, 14th Oct. This eminent musician
and composer was a native of Ireland,
and was deservedly esteemed and ad-
mired in his profession. Many popu-
lar vocal pieces were of his composi-
tion. His two operas, " Henrique " and
"Amelie," especially the latter, had
signal success. As a teacher of music,
Mr. Rooke, counted among his pupils
Balfe, Hughes (the leader of Drury-
Lane), the tenor Harrison, and Miss
Forde (a well-known clever actress and
singer). Mr. Rooke's death occurred
at his residence, at Walham Green,
after several months of intense suffer-
ing. He was in his 55th year, and he
leaves a widow and numerous family
to lament his loss.

Ross, William, Esq., formerly of Great
Marlborough-street, 1st Oct., at Bel-
mont House.

Rosser, Richard, Esq., of Southampton-
row, 30th Sept., aged 90.

Sadler, Anne, relict of the Rev. James
Hayes Sadler, of Keynsham, Bury,
27th Sept.

Sandford, Mrs. John, dau. of the late
Charles Bicknell, Esq., of Spring-gar-
dens, 25th Sept.

Sapte, Anthony Meek, aged 21, fourth

son of Francis Sapte, Esq., of Eaton-
place, 2d Oct., at Florence.

Schonswar, Lydia, wife of George Schon-
swar, Esq., at Cheltenham, 28th Sept.

Scott, the Rev. Alexander, 30th Sept , at
Bootle, co. Cumberland, aged 68.

Selby, James Hull, fifth son of the late
Predeaux Selby, Esq., of Maidenhead,
24th May, at Quebec.

Seymour, Henry Augustus, Esq., 17th
Sept., aged 76.

Simpson, Mrs., of Cartislo and Bowness,
co. Cumberland, 22d Sept., aged 85.

Slade, James Frederick, eld. son of Ste-
phen Slade, esq., of Argyle-street, 13th
Oct.

Slade, Elizabeth Anne, dau. of the late
Rev. William Slade, 22d Sept.

Soady, John, of the Indian Navy, son of
Capt. John Soady, R.N., lost in the
Cleopatra, in April.

Smith, Capt. Thomas, R.N., of Wood-
lands, co. Surrey, 19th Sept., aged 57.

Smythe, Robert, Esq., of Methven, 5th
Oct. Mr. Smythe of Methven, a Magis-
trate and Deputy Lieutenant for Perth-
shire, succeeded to the estate at the
decease of his father, David Smythe,
titulary Lord Methven, in 1806. He
was born in 1778, married twice, but
had no issue.

Stephens, Elizabeth, relict of the late Capt.
Stephens, of the 5th Dragoon Guards.
10th Oct.

Stevens, the Rev. John, of Huntley-street,
6th Aug.

Sutherland, Mrs., widow of Commissioner
Sutherland, R.N., aged 84, at Bou-
logne.

Tancred, Harriet Anne, eld. dau. of Sir
Thomas Tancred, Bart., 2d Oct.

Tarratt, Joseph, Esq., of Ford House, co.
Stafford, 27th Sept., aged 91.

Taylor, Major George, of the Bombay
Army, 26th Sept.

Thompson, Matthew, Esq., of Maning-
ham Lodge, co. York, J.P. and D.L.,
24th Sept.

Tidd, Elizabeth, widow of the late
William Tidd, Esq., Barrister, 21st Oct.

Townley, the Rev. William, Vicar of
Orpington, &c., 24th Sept., aged 74.

Tremlett, Richard Henry, only son of the
late Samuel Tremlett, Esq., of Exeter,
1st Oct., aged 61.

Trollope, Edward, Esq., 7th Oct., aged
44, at Doughty-street.

Tuke, Francis, Esq., 29th Sept., at Dul-
wich.

Urquhart, Anne, relict of the late Capt.
David Urquhart, Paymaster 72nd
Highlanders, and eldest dau. of the
late Lieut. -Col. James Fraser, of Kil-
worth, N.B., 5th Oct.

502

ANNOTATED OBITUARY,

' Usborne, Mrs. Harriet, of Croydon, 30th
Sept.

Waite, James Douglas, late of H.M.S.
Terrible, 10th Oct., aged 18.

Walrasley, the Rev. Edward Jones, Rector
of Hilperton, Wilts, son of John
Walmsley, Esq., of Ince, Lancashire,
and grandson of the late Richard G.
Long, Esq., of Rood Ashton, in the
county of Wilts, at Dewlish House,
near Blandford, on the 23d Sept.,

Walton, Emily Anne, only dau. of Wil-
liam Henry Walton, Esq., 26th Sept.,
aged 9.

Warre, Lieut. John Frederick, R.N., 3d
July, at Hong Kong, aged 32.

Warrington, Col. Hammer, late H.B.M.'s
Consul- General at Tripoli, 18th Aug.
at Patras.

Watson, Richard Moore C. Bowes, eldest
son of the late George Bowes Watson,
Esq., of Clapham Park, 30th Sept.,
aged 12.

Whiteway, Samuel, Esq., of Oakford,
Kingsteignton, Devon, 7th Oct.

Whitfield, the Rev. W. Brett, B.D., 26th

Sept., at Lawford Rectory, aged 78.
Wickham, Miss Eleanor Christian, 8th

Oct., at Hammersmith, aged 16
Wilkins, Emily, dau. of C. B. Wilkins,

Esq., of Dover, llth Oct.
Williams, Mr. Charles William Daniel,

nephew of John Harris, Esq., at

Springfield, near Bedford, 8th Oct.
Williams, Rose Chitty, dau. of the late

James Rice Williams, Esq., of Lee,

Kent, 29th Sept.
Willis, Samuel, Esq., of Richmond-place,

St. Leonard's, Exeter (late of Crew

Kerne, Somerset), 18th Oct., aged 61.
Wood, Charlotte, wife of Mr. Alderman

Thomas Wood, 12th Oct., aged 60.
Wood, John, Esq., of Scale Lodge,

Surrey, formerly of Hatton, co. Salop,

29th Sept., aged 81.
Wright, the Rev. John, Rector of Killee-

van, co. Monaghan, 24th Sept.
Wyatt, Adeline, wife of James Reeves

Wyatt, Esq., of Radnor-place, 28th

Sept.

THE PATRICIAN,

A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES
AND THE HAMLET OF SHAKESPEARE.

SOPHOCLES, as the greatest among the tragic writers of classic an-
tiquity, stands on an eminence nearly equal to that which Shakespeare
holds with regard to the romantic drama. Dissimilar in the stvle and

^he form of their plays, these two mighty authors resembled each other
in this, — that they were both of surpassing, lasting, and wonderful
excellence. _<Eschylus and Euripides by some are regarded as coming in
close concurrence with Sophocles. Shakespeare is unquestionably with-
out a rival ; and, indeed, the world in general bows to the acknowledged
supremacy of both Sophocles and Shakespeare. They are the masters of
that beautiful art which— under whatever shape, classic or romantic — has
made history and fiction alive, and has afforded, through ages and ages,
a kind of endless and ever varying gratification to mankind. Often and
often, yet never to satiety, have the merits of these two writers been
separately demonstrated, discussed, and lauded ; each has innumerable
times been the theme of admiration, eloquence, and erudition, to the
student, the critic, and the scholar ; but it has seldom or never occurred,

' that they should have been considered together, and that an approxima-
tion should have been made between the peculiar attributes of either of
them. Such a comparison must, however, be curious and interesting,
and well worthy the attention of the student, especially as they them*
selves have, on one occasion at least, afforded a fair opportunity for it, in
having chosen for the display of their dramatic powers a somewhat similar

"Subject. The tale which forms the plot of the Electra (a master-piece
of antiquity), has close affinity to the story of that greater master-piece
of modern time,— the tragedy of Hamlet. Adultery, and murder, and
vengeance fill alike the scenes of these two terrible plays ; and in the
one, as in the other, the incidents are rendered still more appalling by
the energy of the language and the magnificence of the verse. How
earnestly here did these authors write ! How grandly, how gloriously !
as if their souls were on fire : and yet, excellent as they both are, how
evident, on close inspection, is the surpassing genius of Shakespeare. To
fu ly judge of this, let us first take the Electra.
The plot of this famous tragedy is simply this : —

VOL. IV., NO. XX. 0 0

THB ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES

After Agamemnon had been assassinated by his wife Clytemnestra and
her paramour JEgisthus, Orestes, then an infant, was preserved from
a participation in the same fate by his sister, Electra, who privately
conveyed him to the court of Strophius, king of Phocis, who treated him
with the utmost kindness, and educated him with his son, Pylades, with
whom he contracted an indissoluble friendship. On attaining years of
maturity, Orestes, together with his companion, visited the city of My-
eense in disguise, and, by the assistance of his governor, deluded the adul-
terous pair into a fatal security, by a report which he propagated of his
death. Having at length discovered himself to Electra, who willingly
co-operated with him in the prosecution of his revenge, he slew his
mother during the absence of the tyrant, who, on his return received the
just punishment of his atrocious guilt.

The whole course and conduct of the drama are, moreover, eloquently
detailed, as follow, by M. Schlegel : —

The scene of the Electra of Sophocles is laid before the palace of

Agamemnon. At break of day Pylades, Orestes, and the guardian by

whom he was preserved when his father was slain, enter the stage as ar-

riving from another country. The tutor who acts as his guide com-

mences with a description of his native city, and he is answered by

Orestes, who mentions the commission of Apollo, and the manner in which

he means to carry it into execution, after which the young man puts up a

prayer to his domestic gods and his father's house. Electra is heard com-

plaining within ; Orestes is desirous of greeting her without delay, but

the old man leads him away to perform a sacrifice at the grave of his

father. Electra then appears, and pours out her sorrow in a pathetic ad-

dress to heaven, and her unconquerable desire of revenge in a prayer to

the infernal deities. The chorus, which consists of native virgins, endea-

vours to console her; and, in an interchange of hymns and conversation,

Electra discloses her deep sorrow, the ignominy and oppression under

which she suffers, and her hopelessness from the delay of Orestes, whom

she has frequently admonished ; and she turns a deaf ear to all the grounds

of consolation adduced by the chorus. Chrysothemis, the younger daugh-

ter of Clytemnestra, whose yieldingness of disposition naturally renders

her the favourite of her mother, approaches with a mortuary offering

which she is carrying to the grave of her father. An altercation arises

between the two sisters respecting their difference of sentiment, and Chry-

sothemis mentions to Electra that ^Egisthus, whom she sets at defiance,

and who is at that time absent in the country, has determined to adopt

the most severe measures towards her. She then learns that Clytemnestra

dreamt of the return of Agamemnon to life, of his having planted his

sceptre in the ground on which the house stood, which grew up to a tree

that overshadowed the whole land ; and, alarmed at this, that she has

commissioned Chrysothemis to carry an oblation to his grave. Electra

counsels her not to execute the commands of l.er audacious mother, but

to put up a prayer for herself and her sister, and for the return of Orestes

to revenge her father, when she reaches the grave ; she adds to the obla-

tion her own girdle and a lock of her hair. Chrysothemis goes off, pro-

mising obedience to her wishes. The chorus predicts from the dream,

that retaliation is at hand, and connects the crimes in the house of Pelops,

with the first enormity committed by that ancestor. Clymenestra rebukes

•

THE HAMLET OF SHAKESPEARE. 505

her daughter, against whom, however, she is milder than usual, probably
from the effect of the dream ; she defends her murder of Agamemnon,
Electra condemns her for it, but yet no violent altercation takes place.
Clvtemnestra then proffers a prayer at the altar before the house to Apollo
for health and long life, and in secret for the death of her son. The
guardian of Orestes arrives, and, as the messenger of a Phocean friend,
announces the death of Orestes, and minutely enumerates all the circum-
stances which attended his being killed in a chariot-race at the Pythian
games. Clytemnestra can scarcely conceal her triumphant joy, although
she is at first visited by the feelings of a mother, and she invites the mes-
senger to partake of their hospitality. Electra, in affecting speeches and
hymns, gives herself up to her grief, and the chorus in vain endeavours to
console her. Chrysothemis returns from the grave, full of joy in the as-
surance that Orestes is in the vicinity : she has found his lock of hair,
his libation, and garland. The despair of Electra is now renewed ; she
recounts to her sister the gloomy relation of the supposed messenger, and
exhorts her, as all their hopes are at an end, to join in the daring deed of
destroying ^Egisthus, a determination which Chrysothemis, who does not
possess resolution enough, rejects as foolish ; and after a violent alterca-
tion she enters the house. The chorus now bewails Electra, who is thus
left altogether destitute. Orestes returns with Pylades and several ser-
vants bearing an urn with the pretended ashes of the deceased. Electra
supplicates him for the urn, and laments over it in the most affecting lan-
guage, which agitates Orestes to such a degree that he can no longer con-
ceal himself: after some preparation he discloses himself to her, and con-
firms his account by the production of the seal-ring of their father. She
gives expression to her boundless joy in speeches and odes, till the guar-
dian comes out, and reprimands both of them for their want of considera-
tion. Electra, with some difficulty, recognises in him the faithful servant
to whom she had entrusted the care of Orestes, and expresses her gratitude
to him. At the suggestion of the guardian, Orestes and Pylades accom-
pany him with all speed into the house, that they may surprise Clytem-
nestra while still alone. Electra offers up a prayer for them to Apollo ;
the choral ode announces the moment of retaliation. We hear in the
house the cries of the affrighted Clytemnestra, her short prayer, her wail-
ings, when she feels herself wounded. Electra from without 'stimulates
Orestes to complete the deed, and he comes out with bloody hands ; as
the chorus however sees ^Sgisthus advancing, he re-enters the house in
haste for the purpose of surprising him. JEgisthus inquires into the death
of Orestes, and is led to believe, from the ambiguous language of Electra,
that his corpse is in the palace. He commands all the gates to be thrown
open immediately, for the purpose of convincing those inhabitants who
yielded obedience with reluctance to his sovereignty, that they had no
longer any hopes in Orestes. The middle entrance opens, and exhibits
in the interior of the palace a body lying on the bed covered over : Orestes
stands beside the body, and invites ^Egisthus to uncover it ; and he now
belvolds the bloody corpse of Clytemnestra, and concludes himself lost
beyond remedy. He requests to be allowed to speak, but this is opposed
by Electra. Orestes constrains him to enter the house, that he may kill
him on the very spot where his own father was murdered.

In this tragedy, the position of Electra resembles that of Hamlet :

o o 2

506 THE ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES

she has nearly the same sorrows as his to undergo, and the same wrongs
to vindicate. A loved father has been murdered, and his wife is married
to the murderer. Yet how different is the character of Electra from that
of Hamlet. Endowed with a mind of unbounding determination and
courage, the classic heroine is majestic and terrible in her grief. She has
resolved to revenge her father's death, and she never for an instant
swerves from her purpose : all the gentler nature of woman — all filial
feeling for her mother is cast aside ; vengeance and vengeance alone,
holds possession of her every faculty. The soliloquy in the first act
her full intent.

0 sacred light! and, O, thou ambient air !
Oft have ye heard Electra's loiid laments,

Her sighs, and groans, and witness'cl to her woes.
Which ever, as each hateful morn appear 'd,

1 pour'd before you ; what at eve retired
I felt of anguish, my sad couch alone

Can tell, which, water'd nightly with my tears,

Received me sorrowing : that best can tell

What pangs I suifer'd for a hapless father,

Whom not the god of war with ruthless hand

Struck nobly fighting in a distant soil ;

But my fell mother, and the cursed ^Egisthus,

The partner of her bed, remorseless slew.

Untimely didst thou fall, lamented shade !

And none but poor Electra mourns thy fate ;

Nor shall she cease to mourn thee, while these eyes

View the fair heavens, or behold the sun.

Never, O ! never like the nightingale,

Whose plaintive song bewails her ravish'd brood ;

Here will I still lament my father's wrongs,

And teach the echo to repeat my moan.

O ye infernal Deities ! and thou,

Terrestrial Hermes ! and thou, Nemesis,

Replete with curses ! and ye vengeful Furies !

Offspring of gods, the ministers of wrath

To vile adulterers, who with pity view

The slaughter'd innocent, behold this deed.

O ! come, assist, revenge my father's murder ;

Quickly, O ! quickly bring me my Orestes ;

For, lo ! I sink beneath oppressive woe,

And can no longer bear the weight alone.

The chorus laud her for her firmness of purpose.

Bid the sad Atridse mourn,

Their house by cruel faction torn ;
Tell them, no longer by affection join'd,
The tender sisters bear a friendly mind.

The poor Electra, now alone,

Making her fruitless, solitary moan,
Like Philomela, weeps her father's fate ;

AND THE HAMLET OF SHAKESPEARE.

Fearless of death, and every human ill,
Resolved her steady vengeance to fulfil :
Was ever child so good, or piety so great ?

In beautiful contrast to this dark picture of Pagan vengeance come
the Christian anguish and Christian vacillation of Shakespeare's hero.
Hamlet's sorrow is caused by a crime even greater than the murder of
Agamemnon. It is his own uncle who has slain the king, and formed
an incestuous marriage with the queen. True, Gertrude, unlike Clytem-
nestra, is innocent of the actual death of her husband ; yet the guilt, in
the union she has made, is very great. But Hamlet obeys the warning
he has received from the grave : —

Howsoever thou pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught ; leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To goad and sting her.

In the moments of his greatest excitement, Hamlet confines his conduct
towards his mother to exhortation —

Confess yourself to heaven ;
Repent what 's past ; — avoid what is to come.

Soft — now to my mother.

0 ! heart, lose not thy nature ; let not ever
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom :
Let me be cruel — not unnatural :

1 will speak daggers to her, but use none.

In either play, Electra and Hamlet are alike infuriate against the
principal offender ; yet the softness of humanity will ever and anon
creep over Hamlet's sterner mission. In him, the executioner sinks
before the philosopher and scholar, until, as he says himself, " the native
hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." Electra
allows naught to stand between her and the consummation of her object :
from the first act to the last, her eye, like that of the constrictor, is fixed
in deadly glare upon her victims ; as the boa, she watches for the moment
to leap upon them, and when it occurs, her rage bursts forth in uncon-
trolable exultation. When the sword of her brother Orestes is at the
throat of -<Egysthus, and the dying miscreant implores, in his agony, one
word of the prince, how terrible is her exclamation : —

No, Orestes !

No, not a word. What can a moment's space
Profit a wretch like him, to death devoted?
Quick let him die, and cast his carcass forth
To dogs and vultures ; they will best perform
Fit obsequies for him ; by this alone
We can be free and happy.

Such, indeed, is the whole tenor of this master-piece of antiquity ;
terror, and terror alone, predominates throughout — one rises from its
perusal struck with the vigour and violence of its action. Yet an un-

508 THE ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES

pleasant sensation attaches to the gratification ; the mind has too much
of horror. The singleness of story is, however, not to be charged
against Sophocles ; it arises necessarily from the classic unity of the plot,
which he was compelled to observe. He could not soften the main feature
of his play by a variety of incident and character, as Shakespeare has
so wonderfully done. The tragedy of Electra tells of murder and infi-
delity revenged — so does that of Hamlet ; yet in the latter, this ugly
theme is rendered palateable by continual novelty and change. The
ghost with its supernatural awe first harrows the attention ; then the court
and its pomp, and Fortinbras and his warlike grandeur intervene ; then
comes Ophelia, and the delightful interest and fascination that hang
around her ; and then her father, Polonius, and his quaint humour ; again,
the grave-diggers bring on a scene of mixed and unsurpassable wit
and terror. The very appearance of the fop in the catastrophe adds
grotesqueness to the climax of slaughter that ensues. The whole play,
indeed, amuses while it astonishes, delights while it frightens : it excels
the drama of Sophocles, because it brings all the resources of chivalrous
romance, and of Christian civilization, to render its gravity bearable, and
to illuminate its gloom.

In comparing these two plays, we cannot but be struck by the curious
coincidence of character and circumstance that occur in them. Orestes
and Pylades, ever together, resemble Hamlet and Horatio in their friendly
allegiance. The first appearance of Orestes is much akin to the return
of Hamlet after his uncle has sent him to England : in both instances
the murderer has endeavoured, by forced means, to remove the object of
his fears, who comes back to destroy him. The terrible scene between
Electra and her mother is in some measure re-acted by Hamlet and the
queen. The two tyrants, -jEgysthus and Hamlet's uncle, are very much
like each other, especially in their dread of the Divine vengeance.
jEgysthus, when he supposes he is viewing the dead body of Orestes,
exclaims thus : —

What a sight is here

0 Deity supreme ; this could not be
But by thy will ; and whether Nemesis

Shall still o'ertake me for my crime, I know not.
Take off the veil, that I may view him well ;
He was by blood allied, and therefore claims
Our decent sorrows.

The same idea is still more impressively worked out in the King of
Denmark's soliloquy, —

O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven ;
It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't,
A brother's murder ! — Pray can I not,
Though inclination be as sharp as will ;
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent ;
And, like a man to double business bound,

1 stand in pause where I shall first begin,
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood ?
Is there not rain enough in the sweet Heavens,

AND THE HAMLET OF SHAKESPEARE. ,r)OJ)

To wash it white as snow ? Whereto serves mercy,

But to confront the visage of offence ?

And what 's in prayer, but this two-fold force, —

To be forestalled, ere we come to fall,

Or pardon'd, being down ? Then I 'II look up ;

My fault is past. But O, what form of prayer

Can serve my turn ? Forgive me my foul murder ! —

That cannot be ; since I am still possess'd

Of those effects for which I did the murder ?

My erown, my own ambition, and my queen.

May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence ?

In the corrupted currents of this world,

Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice ;

And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself

Buys out the law : But 'tis not so above :

There is no shuffling ; there the action lies

In his true nature ; and we ourselves compell'd,

Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,

To give in evidence. What then ? what rests ?

Try what repentance can : What can it not ?

Yet what can it, when one cannot repent ?

O wretched state ! O bosom, black as death !

O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,

Art more engaged ! Help, angels, make assay I

Bow, stubborn knees ! and, heart, with strings of steel,

Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe !

Even the minor characters — the governor of Orestes, and the gentle
Chrysothemis — bear faint resemblance to Polonius and Ophelia ; and to
conclude this strange affinity, it will be remembered that Orestes and
Hamlet are urged on to vengeance, the one by the Delphic oracle, the
other by a voice from the tomb; andthatthe ghost of Agamemnon has appear-
ed, though to the wife instead of to the child. Yet it is scarcely credible,
since he makes no allusion to it, that Shakespeare was familiar with the play
of Electra. The greater probability is, that the inspiration of his imagina-
tive brain at once created a similar subject of that highly dramatic
nature. Here, however, we discover another remarkable proof of the
inimitable genius of Shakespeare. The story of Electra was not alone
common as a plot to ^Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides ; but the
moderns have frequently written plays upon it. Among others, we may
mention Perez de Oliva in Spain, and Crebillon and Voltaire in France.
But once Shakespeare siezed the subject, he so moulded it, so made it
his own, and put his stamp upon it, that no author dared meditate a
rivalry : the utmost effort in other countries goes to reproduce the
original of Hamlet in more or less garbled translations. Unlike the
plots of the classic stage, the tales of Shakespeare have become sacred
ground, where no trespasser will ever have the audacity to venture.

If the tragedy of Hamlet be proximate to that of Electra in its
nature, it has also a further resemblance in its success. Not only the
Athenians, but crowds from other parts of Greece, and from neighbouring
civilized countries, it is said, came to the reiterated representations of
this chef d'ceucre of Sophocles, and listened to it in raptures.

510 ELECTKA AND HAMLET.

Hamlet has proved still more attractive — its popularity is universal.
It comes acceptable, at all times, to all ages and classes. The child just
beyond his story-book — the youth studious or sentimental — the man of
maturer years and manifold occupation — he, too, whose old age permits
him to appreciate literary enjoyment, the greatest earthly solace of
declining life, all delight in the perusal and re-perusal, in the representa-
tion and re-representation of the tragedy of Hamlet. Again, with
high and low, with the peer and the peasant, with the master and the
servant, the lady and her maid, Hamlet is popular. At the poorest,
even more often than at the proudest London theatre, the repetition of
this play assembles a crowded and attentive audience. Hamlet, too,
has a cosmopolite reputation. In France, long before the absurd preju-
dice against Shakespeare had ceased, a Frenchified adaptation of
Hamlet was graciously received in Paris. Throughout Germany, this
drama is as well known as in England ; in other countries, scarcely less
so. Hamlet's tomb is shewn to the traveller at Elsinore ; and why ?
Not because Saxo, the historian, records the prince's life ; but because
the genius of Shakespeare, in the wideness of its range, happened to
alight on Denmark. The secret of such extraordinary attraction is
this : — The old dark and dreadful story of Electra had, in its nature,
an indescribable magic charm. It arrested and absorbed the attention
of Pagan antiquity in its naked and unadorned majesty ; but, thus
represented, it became too rugged and uncouth for nations softened by
chivalry and Christianity. The plot had not lost its power, but it
required to be remodelled. The requisite change was effected by
Shakespeare. In his Hamlet, the tale, by means of which Sopho-
cles had spell-bound his countrymen, was reproduced, with a new
halo around it. The exquisite fancy of the later poet has tempered the
antique glare with a brilliancy more suited to modern eyes : the result is
a light which has dazzled and delighted the intellectual world*

511

THE CONTRAST.

'TWAS Sunday morn — the Sabbath bell

Re-echoed over vale and hill ;
No sound on sacred silence fell,

And earth was labourless and still.
I follow'd with the pensive throng

Which to the church I saw repair —
Age, youth, and childhood went along,

And rank and beauty, too, were there.

I mark'd two ladies young and fair,

And, oh ! how different their array !
One had a stiff and haughty air,

But ill-according with the day.
She dash'd along in blazon'd coach,

And deck'd, and jewell'd too, was she —
Poor worshippers might not encroach --^

Upon her gilded company.

The other walk'd in muslin dress,

Pure emblem of her native worth,
Though unadorn'd, yet not the less

Men saw at once her noble birth.
The step of tottering age she'd raise,

Nor scorn the rustic's awkward bow.
The village children lov'd to praise

The smile upon her open brow.

One from a Cotton Lord had sprung,

In modern wealth-adoring days :
The other's Ducal line bards sung

Long since, when generous birth had praise.
Ah ! tell me, ye, whose hearts beat high

With throbs for true old English worth !
Say — would ye confidently try

Nobility of gold, or birth ?

S. M.

KU&H

THE CLUBS OF LONDON.*

THE REFOBM CLDB.

NEXT in order amongst political clubs stands the REFORM, al-
though vie are not sure that it is not surpassed in seniority by its great
rival which we shall next mention — the CARLTON. Both had their origin
in the exciting era of 1830, and the Reform Bill — that " sweeping
measure," as it was termed, which was said to have produced a new
revolution in this country, though somehow or another it has contrived
to leave matters and parties in much the same condition as before, The
friends of the Constitution, however, then took alarm, and founded the
Carlton, bestowing upon it this name from that of the terrace where the
Club was originally held. The Liberal party, not to be behind, hastened
to hire Gwyder House, Whitehall, and retained that mansion until the
present palatial edifice by Mr. Bariy, architect of the houses of parlia-
ment, was reared.

The Reform Club, upraising its colossal height in Pall Mall, for a
considerable time was considered one of the lions of the metropolis ; but
though it may still maintain this position internally, in outward ap-
pearance it is surpassed by some of the establishments that have since
sprung up, and it can no longer be compared with the gorgeous edifice
that is starting into existence by its side. Still, though of severe sim-
plicity, it is an imposing structure ; striking by its dimensions, and unex-
ceptionable in elegance of proportion and unity of design ; although it
may be objected that the style — modern Italian — is somewhat too cold
for this country, where we seldom require to exclude the congenial rays
of the sun, and that the windows especially are too numerous, regular,
and small. Some critics, indeed, have compared it to an inverted chest
of drawers. But if — parodying a well-known couplet —

" If to its share some trivial errors fall,
Just cross the door, and you'll forget them all."

The admirers of Mr. Nash and the highly embellished school of
architecture may object to the utter absence of ornament from the ex-
terior. Praxitiles himself could scarcely discern fault in the arrangements
of the culinary divinity, Soyer, who reigns below, and causes all the
mortals of the upper regions to bend in mingled wonder and admiration
before his throne.

But we must leave the divinity for a moment alone. On entering the
vestibule of the Reform Club House, one is immediately struck by the
splendid proportions of the hall, recalling to mind the magnificent salles
of Versailles, and the elegance of the stair-case — that most difficult
feature of an edifice to render attractive — reminding one of the glories of

* Concluded from page 469.

THE CLUBS OP LONDON. 513

the Louvre. Nor on a closer survey is the aspect diminished. The
saffron marble columns, supporting the roof, may be objected to as dull,
but their effect is warm ; and the roof itself, glass exquisitely cut, as
well as the rare Mosaic floor ground of the richest combinations, may
be considered the happiest architectural efforts in the building. From
the vestibule branch off the dining-room, drawing-room, library, and
various departments of the edifice, each of which may be considered perfect
iii its degree, and is elegantly adorned with pictures, embroidery, and
statuary.

The upper part of the Reform Club contains the usual apartments for
billiards, play, &c., which it is said was once carried on here to a consi-
derable extent, though now we believe greatly diminished, if not
suppressed. In this part of the edifice, too, are a certain number of
dormitories allotted to the insatiable quid-nuncs of the building, or those
who pass their whole existence amid club gossip and politics — one of
the peculiarities, and by no means a desirable one, of the establishment.
But it is in the lower regions, where Soyer reigns supreme, that the
true glory of the Reform Club consists ; and here the divine art of
cookery — or, as he himself styles it, Gastronomy— is to be seen in all its
splendour. Heliogabolus himself never glutted over such a kitchen — for
steam is here introduced and made to supply the part of man. In state
the great dignitary sits and issues his inspiring orders to a body of
lieutenants, each of whom has pretensions to be considered a chef in
himself. Gardez les Rotis, les Entremets sont perdus was never more
impressively uttered by Cambaceres, when tormented by Napoleon de-
taining him from dinner, than are the orders by Soyer for preparing the
refection of some modern attorney ; and all the energies of the vast
establishment are at once called into action to obey them — steam
eventually conducting the triumphs of the cook's art from the scene of
its production to a recess adjoining the dining-room, where all is to
disappear.

Soyer is, indeed, the glory of the edifice — the genus loci. Peers and
plebeian gourmands alike penetrate into the recesses of the kitchen to
render him homage ; and conscious of his dignity, or at least of his power,
he receives them with all the calm assurance of the Grand Monarque
himself. Louis XIV., in the plenitude of his glory, was never more
impressive ; and yet there is an aspect — we shall not say assumption —
of modesty about the great chef, as he loves to be designated, which is
positively wondrous, when we reflect that we stand in the presence of
the great " Gastronomic Regenerator" — the last of his titles, and that
by which, we presume, he would wish by posterity to be known. Soyer,
indeed, is a man of discrimination, and taste, and genius. He was led to
conceive the idea of his immortal work, he tells us, by observing in the
elegant library of an accomplished nobleman the works of Shakspeare,
Milton, and Johnson, in gorgeous bindings, but wholly dust-clad and
overlooked, while a book on cookery bore every indication of being daily
consulted and revered. " This is fame," exclaimed Soyer, seizing the
happy inference ; and forthwith betaking himself to his chamber and to
meditation, his divine work on Gastronomic Regeneration was the result.
We all remember the glowing passage of Gibbon describing the con-
ception of his great achievment as he stood jimid the ruins of the Roman
forum, and surveyed the spot " where Romulas stood, and Tully spoke,

514 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

and Csesar fell ;" we are familiar too with his still more exquisite descrip-
tion of its completion amid the groves of Switzerland, when " in a
midsummer night" (we quote from memory) " at the extremity of a row
of Acacias, he wrote the last line of the last page of his history, and
felt for a moment elated with the conclusion of his labour, perhaps the
establishment of his fame ; but was immediately stricken to the dust by
the reflection that whatever might be the fate of the history, the life of
the historian might be short and precarious." Yet what is this to the
conception and completion of Soyer's immortal work — from the possible
effect of which he himself shrank in horror, as he tells us it will cause
a complete " revolution in the whole culinary art."

And having a wholesome dread of " revolutions" even in cookery, we
beg leave at the first to take leave of Monsieur Soyer and the Keform
Club, of which he is at once the atlas and ornament ; premising, however,
that in other respects he is an estimable man, and not only fondly ex-
hibits a series of remarkably well-executed tableaux by his late consort,
whose memory he seems warmly to cherish, but also possesses a con-
siderable taste, and, we believe, power of execution too, in the fine arts
himself ; independently of the merit to which he is entitled for having
endeavoured to relieve the sufferings of the humbler classes of our
countrymen during the severe famine of last winter.

Side by side with the Keform, separated only by a narrow pass, stands
its great rival in politics, and senior, if we mistake not, in origin,

THE CARLTON,

which still retains its first designation, though removed from the lordly
terrace which gives rise to it, to the shady side of Pall Mall.

As it originally stood — and still in part stands — in Pall Mall, the
Carlton, though light, elegant, and fastidious, presents a much less im-
posing appearance than its popular neighbour ; but when the present
improvements, or rather external re-construction of the edifice shall be
completed, it will eclipse the other as completely as it formerly was thrown
into shade.

Nothing, indeed, can be more striking than the new exterior which
the Carlton exhibits. A space equalling in dimensions the old extent of
the Club has been acquired on the western side, and on this has been
raised a superstructure which none in the metropolis equals, if we except
the gorgeous building of the Army and Navy Club in St. James's Square.
And even this is less remarkable ; for though in gigantic dimensions
and architectural splendour it may vie with the Carlton, it has no such
conspicuous feature as the latter, in its gorgeous red granits columns,
contrasted with the ordinary colour of the edifice, affords. Some, indeed,
may object to a want of harmony in the style, and represent that the
dark red granite and highly-polished marble columns are inconsistent
with the rich yellow Portland stone bases, and offer an incongruity not
in unison with our clime ; yet the effect is exceedingly dazzling, and
on the whole we cannot help considering it to be good — at once rich,
striking, and chaste in design ; and calculated, so far as external ap-
pearance is concerned, to throw the other as completely into the shade,
as the Reform, we still believe will be found internally to surpass it in-
architectural beauty and thorough adaption to the purposes of a club.

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 515

;

The Carlton is the head-quarters of Conservative, as the Reform
Club is of Liberal politics. A nominally Conservative Club has been
erected in St. James's-street, for the reception of the inferior members,
but in Pall Mall congregate the Tritons of the party. Here the great
political " moves" are concerted which upset a Whig or overturn a
Conservative administration. Here the grand mysteries of a General
Election are determined on, and here are the vast sums subscribed which
are to put the whole forces of the party in motion. Here are tactics
propounded which are to be directed by the experienced hand of a
Bonham, and the operations determined on that are to flow from the
ample purse of a Buccleuch, From it went forth the voice, the energy,
and the action, which, after years of exertion, placed the late Premier
in office at the head of the great Conservative party ; and out of the
same portals issued the resolute consistence of the old county or protec-
tionist members who eventually ejected him from office. The Carlton
contains them all — Conservatives of every hue, from the good old-
fashioned Tory who adheres to the doctrines of Lord Eldon and William
Pitt, to the liberal advancing man who almost moves ahead of Sir
Kobert ; but they are all men of consequence — they are the Corinthians
of the order. The members of both houses are there. Here do the gen-
tlemen and leaders of the party assemble, whether they own allegiance to
their late chieftain, or follow the banner of Lord George. They are,
almost without exception, men of the highest standing either in fortune
or politics. Not a doubtful attorney or disreputable roue is to be found
in their ranks. They are pre-eminently the representatives of England's
congregated gentlemen — men whose opinions may be objected to by their
political opponents, but whose public and personal honour is unimpeached
and unimpeachable ; from whose ranks the members of every Tory or
Conservative government have in past times been taken, and must in
future ministries of like principles continue to come.

But in every grade of life, whether military or ministerial, private or
political, there must necessarily be subordinates ; and hence when the
Carlton became unduly crowded, or there appeared a necessity for classi-
fication, there arose another club of similar principles —

THE CONSERVATIVE,

which was designed first to provide accommodation for the immense
number of candidates for admission to the Carlton, and ultimately to
form a general re-union for the Dii minores, or smaller stars, but in many
cases equally indispensable members of the party.

We state* this in no invidious sense. To the external eye, the Con-
servative Club in St. James's-street presents no inferiority to its more
aristocratic relative in Pall Mall, and until lately it eclipsed the Carlton
in so far as splendour was concerned. Nothing, indeed, could be con-
ceived more gorgeous than the aspect of its exterior, and nothing equal
to it existed in the metropolis till the modern Carlton and Army and
Navy Club arose. It may even yet be considered by many as more chaste
than the one, and less gaudy than the other, though the internal arrange-
ments of the building are not fashioned with equal architectural ability
for display. In this respect, too, it yields to the great edifice of Barry ;

510 THE CLUB3 OF LONDON.

the interior of which, as already mentioned, is perfect, although the exte-
rior is plain almost to a fault. In all the essential requisites of a Club-
house, the Conservative is unobjectionable ; and, situated within a stone-
throw of the palace, with a full view of the glories of St. James 's-street
on drawing-room day, it must form an admirable lounge for its members,
as well as a nucleus exceedingly desirable for collecting the forces of the
party when a great political movement is to be attempted. Into it a
few members of doubtful reputation may possibly have found admission ;
but still the components of the club as a body are sound, and
number amongst their ranks a large majority of the secondary order of
Conservatives both of the metropolis and provinces, on whose power and
support the influence of the party so greatly depends ; for, be it observed,
each of these parties, though small in London, where many a man is
sadly shorn of his dimensions, is of importance in his county or respective
sphere, and the leaders of the phalanx are too well aware of the weight
and the value of their support to treat them with contumely.

The chiefs of the Tory party are consequently members of the Con-
servative Club ; but in most cases merely honorary, and rarely make
their appearance within its walls. Lord Stanley seldom enters it ; Sir
Robert Peel, we believe, except to view the edifice, was never within its
portals ; but Lord George here beats up for recruits, more genial or less
fastidious than the late Premier, whose habit it was while in office to
hold little intercourse with his subordinates save in Parliament, and to
know nothing unless it came before him in the shape of a despatch ; even
the ordinary journals of the day, by which the policy of his predecessors
was supposed to be guided,* being strangers to him. When an election,
however, is to be decided, or the great and vital question of " Who shall
be out or who shall be in ? " is to be determined, the Conservative pre-
sents a host whose numbers and power are not to be despised ; and if
few of its members be components or candidates for seats in the legis-
lature, still in their ranks are to be found the knowledge and the strength
by which the battle is to be fought and the victory to be gained.

With the Conservative we conclude our description of the political
clubs. There is a small establishment of a semi-political, if not ultra

character, named

•
THE FREE-TRADE CLUB,

recently established in Regent-street, and thence removed to some quarter
in the neighbourhood of St. James's-square. Messrs. Cobden, Bright,
Moore, and other members of the late confederacy, known by the name
of the Anti Corn Law League, nre its founders and principal frequenters ;
but it has never come into vogue with the community, and as at this
moment the doctrines of these gentlemen are by no means in especial

* It is a well-known joke of the late Whig Premier, Lord Melbourne, that, being
asked what he intended to do next, he replied, " Can't say till I've seen the news-
papers," which generally were very liberal in supplying him with intentions. This
was a far superior mot to a similar jeu d'esprit by Pitt, who, to the usual interrogatory
respecting the news, by the celebrated Duchess of Gordon, solemnly replied : " Madame,
I have not seen the newspapers."

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 517

favour with the country, and have failed to realize expectations or pre-
dictions in the estimation of their adherents. The Club is at present
undergoing a change, and will shortly, it is said, be, in its new residence,
more showy than before.

ARTHUR'S

is, perhaps, another Club of a semi-political character, but of an opposite
class of politics, and of a very different order. It is situated in St.
James's-street, and was erected in 1811, by Mr. Hopper, the architect
of the celebrated edifice of Penryn Castle. It consists of six hundred
members — the smallest in this respect of any of the old-established clubs.
Its members are chiefly country gentlemen of Conservative opinions ; but
politics, we believe, form no essential feature in its constitution, and
any peculiar tendency which it may on this point exhibit, arises chiefly
from such principles being prevalent amongst the order in society to
which we have alluded.
We now approach to the

MILITARY CLUBS ;

and first of

THE UNITED SERVICE,

the oldest of the modern race, and the pai'ent, if it may be so-named,
of them all. It took its rise in 1 810, after the conclusion of the late
wars, when so many officers of the army and navy were thrown out of
commission. These habits, from old mess-room associations, being gre-
garious, and their reduced incomes no longer affording the luxuries of
the camp or barrack-room on full pay, the late Lord Lyndoch, on their
position being represented to him, was led to propose some such insti-
tution as a mess-room, in peace, for the benefit of his old companions-
in-arms. A few other officers of influence in both branches of the service
concurred, and the United Service Club was the result. It was at
first established at the corner of Charles-street, St. James's, where the
junior establishment of the same name is now situated ; but the funds
soon becoming large, and the number of candidates for admission great,
the large and classic edifice at the corner of Waterloo Place was erected
by Mr. Burton, for their accommodation. The exterior is exceedingly
elegant, yet severe and chaste ; but the interior is by no means com-
mensurate, and is destitute of many of the improvements in the erection
of modern clubs. There has been talk, indeed, of pulling it down, and
erecting a more convenient one in its stead ; but whatever may be
done with the interior, we trust the old classic and highly appropriate
exterior will be preserved.

Old reminiscences are attached to it, independently of its being the
origin of the modern clubs. There Lyndoch reposed — that martial and
chivalrous old man, who entering upon arms not until he had attained his
forty-fifth year, and that, too, chiefly in expectation of finding a speedy
grave to relieve him from romantic attachment or domestic affliction, bore
the British standard victorious through all the stormy campaigns of the

518 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

Peninsular war, and ultimately attained almost the "patriarchal age of a
centenarian before he disappeared from the scene. There, too, may yet
occasionally be seen his greater surviving chief, enjoying his simple
shoulder of mutton repast, murmuring, chafing, chiding, and in the end
positively refusing to pay the excess of threepence charged him in
eighteen pennies for a dinner. But though we have an illustrious ex-
ample, and Marlborough, we are told, would walk home of a night, after
winning a hundred pounds at cards, to save the shilling expense of
chair-hire, to no such unworthy feeling or impulse of the " good old
gentlemanly vice," is the objection of Wellington to be attributed. It,
on the contrary, is rather to be ascribed to a desire for the maintenance
of the principle which originally led to the establishment of the club,
and a commendable care for the finances of some less fortunate comrade-
in-arms, to whom such trifles in the aggregate might possibly be of
importance.

The United Service, however, admits no member of rank inferior to
that of captain in the navy or major in the army. Yet of these,
fifteen hundred were speedily on its rolls ; and so popular was the prin-
ciple, so numerous were the candidates for admission, that another club,
of similar character,

THE JUNIOR UNITED SERVICE,

was quickly established to provide for officers of lower grade, and those of
higher rank whom the Senior Club was unable to receive.

The Junior United Service, which consists of fully as many members as
the old club, and four or five hundred additional or ** supernumeraries "
abroad has established itself at the corner of Charles-street, Regent-street,
the old head-quarters of the Senior Club. The house is of a lighter
order, more airy in its internal aspect, though not so impressive in the
exterior. In addition to commissioned officers of all ranks in both
army and navy, its portals are open for the reception of those of like
grade in the Honourable East India Company's service, and consequently
its members are the most numerous of any institution- of the kind in
London.

Many of the senior members of each club are common to both, it
having been considered a high honour, when the Junior was established,
for the more distinguished individuals in the ranks' of the Senior Club to
be elected as honorary members, although those belonging to the other
could not of course attain a similar distinction, unless of the requisite
grade. But still, although the two institutions afforded accommodation
for nearly three thousand members, so admirable and so useful were
found the principles on which these popular bodies were constituted, that
the claimants soon became too numerous for admission, and

THE ARMY AND NAVY CLUB

was consequently established for the reception of the teeming members!

This institution, originally held at a private mansion in St. James's-
square, has recently been erected on a scale of unparalleled splendour,
throwing, in the estimation of many, even the new building of the Carlton
into the shade. It is understood that it will likewise afford accommo-

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 519

elation for fifteen hundred members, and one would have thought that
the whole officers in the service, resident or likely to he visitors in the
metropolis, were thus amply provided for ; but no, we have a fourth
military club,

•

THE GUARDS,

in existence ; and a sixth exclusively devoted to one branch of the service,

THE NAVAL,

only recently extinct, or merged in the Army and Navy.

The former of these two last-named institutions (the GUARDS) is,
perhaps, of older date than any of the other military clubs of the metro^
polis ; it having long been the practice of this favoured division of her
Majesty's service — the Household Brigade— destitute of separate regi^
mental messes themselves, to unite for the purpose of enjoying the
advantages of association in a body. Their present establishment is a
small house, vis-a-vis to White's, adjoining the boot-maker's at the corner
of St. James's-street ; and on a drawing-room day it forms a battery not
less formidable for the fairer portion of creation than the celebrated bay-
window itself. In the estimation of many, indeed, it is a more dangerous
citadel for the ladies to pass ; the eyes of the young Guardsman being
far more trenchant than the glasses of the antiquated beaux at White *s»
A few years ago, the members of the Guards, finding their present
premises inconveniently small, erected a new club-house in Jermyn-street>
adjacent ; and in this they carried simplicity to extreme, in opposition to
the profusion lavished in ornamenting the exterior of other clubs of the
day. But the experiment failed to afford satisfaction either to themselves
or others. The building had (and has, for it still exists) a barrack-like
aspect uninviting in the extreme ; and though elegant within, it was
destitute of the one great advantage — the view of the tempting street —
enjoyed by the smaller edifice in proximity with Hoby's. It has conse-
quently been abandoned for the old resort ; and the extinction of Crock-
ford's, adjoining, will possibly afford the Guards an opportunity of
acquiring ample accommodation without quitting the vicinity of their
favourite spot.

The other club alluded to, in connection with another branch of her
Majesty's service (the Naval) had originally its head-quarters, we believe,
in Covent Garden ; was afterwards removed to New Bond-street ; and
within these last few years has become extinct, or merged in the Army
and Navy. Yet it was the resort of many a choice spirit in its day,
Founded on the model of the old tavern or convivial clubs, but confined
exclusively to members of the naval service, it numbered among its
members men from the days of Boscawen, Rodney, and the " First of
June " downwards. It was a favorite retreat for his late Majesty when
Duke of Clarence, and his comrade, Sir Philip Durham, the survivor
of Nelson, and almost the last of the " old school," frequented it to the
last. Sir Philip, however, though a member of the old school, was by
no means one of the Trunnion class. Coarseness and profane language,
on the contrary, he especially avoided ; but in " spinning a yarn" there
has been none like him since the days of Smollett. The loss of the

VOL. iv. — NO. xx. P P

520 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

Royal George, from which he was one of the few, if, indeed, not only
officer, who escaped, was a favorite theme ; and the admiral, not content
with having made his escape, was wont to maintain that he swam ashore
with his midshipman's dirk in his teeth. Yet Sir Philip would allow
ho one to trench on his manor. One day when a celebrated naval
captain, with the view of quizzing him, was relating the loss of a mer-
chantman on the coast of South America, laden with Spitalfields pro-
ducts, and asserting that silk was so plentiful, and the cargo so scattered,
that the porpoises were for some hours enmeshed in its folds. " Aye,
aye," replied Sir Philip, " I believe you ; for I was once cruising on that
coast myself, in search of a privateer, and having lost our fore topsail
one morning in a gale of wind, we next day found it tied round a whale's
neck by way of a cravat." Sir Philip was considered to have the best
of it, and the novelist was mute.

But these are reminiscences of bye-gone days. Leaving the fields of
Mars and Neptune for those of Minerva and Apollo, approach we
now to

THE LITERARY CLUBS,

or those which, if not strictly devoted to literature, are at least in some
degree or another connected with its cultivation ; and the first to which
we shall direct attention is

THE ATHEN^UM,

the earliest and most recherche of them all, and which, if not the abode of
wit, is the place where that sensible spirit, in its most exuberant form,
was lately poured out and appreciated.

The successful example of the United Service led to the establishment
of the Athenaeum. A number of gentlemen, connected with the learned
professions and higher order of the fine arts and literature, observing how
advantageously the members of Her Majesty's service had combined,
thought of applying the same principle to those who moved in the quieter
sphere of civil office, the belles lettres, and private life ; and the Athe-
naeum, which stands opposite, and in fine tranquil array to its martial
neighbour, was the result. With the exception, perhaps, of the United
Service, it is the most select establishment in London, and it contains
possibly a still greater number of candidates for admission to its halls ;
the circumstance of belonging to the Athenaeum being now considered a
distinction, extended only to the most eminent in literature, art, science,
and civil life — although, of course, a great majority of its fifteen hundred
members must previously have obtained the entree without any such
claims to notice. Mr. Rogers, the poet, one of its earliest members, is
still amongst the chief of its present ornaments ; and innumerable are
the quiet, satirical, but generally biting, Ion mots recorded of him. The
late Theodore Hook was also one of its great attractions ; and the table
adjoining the door, near which he used to sit, is still considered as a spot
sacred to mirth and hostile to dolour. The Athenaeum, however, now
contains no such choice spirit as he, qualified alike, as in the instance of
the Berners-street hoax, to fright the town from its propriety, and " set
the table in a roar." " Alas ! poor Yorick " may be said of him, when

THE CLUBS OF LONDON. 521

contemplating the melancholy end of all his " gibes and quips, and
cranks and jeering;" and, when contemplating such a wreck, it is perhaps
well for society, and the dignity of literature itself, that the like exists
no longer.

The Athenaeum is an exceedingly handsome structure, elegantly
ornamented on the exterior, and surmounted by an imposing statue of
Minerva. In the interior, the chief feature is the staircase, which is on
a scale of splendour unexpected for the size of the building, and may be
adduced as an instance that such a feature is not necessarily fatal to
beauty and magnificence in architecture. One of its great attractions is
an extensive and well-chosen library, exceeding, it is understood, twenty
thousand volumes in number, and continually increased by donations, as
well as the dedication of £500 a year from its funds for the purchase of
new works of distinction in literature and art.

The names of Sir Thomas Lawrence, Sir Humphrey Davy, Sir James
Mackintosh, Sir Walter Scott, and Mr. John Wilson Croker, may all
be mentioned in union with the Athenaeum ; and the numerous candi-
dates for admission — extending at one time, it is believed, to the hopeless
number of sixteen hundred — led to the establishment of several similar
clubs ; conspicuous among which are

THE OXFOED AND CAMBRIDGE,
in Pall Mall, midway on the shady side, and

THE UNIVERSITY,

at the extremity of Suffolk-street, Pall Mall East.

These clubs may both be mentioned together as peculiar, we believe,
to University men, and such only as are members of the two great col-
leges of England. The former is a handsome structure ; and, before the
recent erections of the Conservative, the Army and Navy, and Charlton,
was, in its exterior, amongst the most conspicuous in London. The
other is a somewhat dull and heavy-looking affair, but possessing, it is
said, the best cellar of wine in London. The Oxford and Cambridge,
which is the more recent in its origin, consists chiefly of the younger
spirits of the Universities, and is less select. The other is, for the most
part, composed of the old and graver members ; and in these ranks some
of the most experienced bibbers in the metropolis are to be found — men
more learned in all the varieties of foreign wine than Roberts himself in
the shocking mysteries of the composition of British, and whom even the
sagest and most expert *' tasters " of the London Docks are disposed to
regard with envy. All the serious Members of Parliament, who have
received university education, are invariably to be found in the latter.
It also contains a considerable number of the judges, and no small por-
tion of beneficed clergymen.

When admission to the Athenaeum, and perhaps these clubs too —
especially the last-named — became an anticipation almost hopeless, a
new club,

THE ERECTHEUM

was established for the purpose of receiving the despairing members ; but
is by no means of the same high order with the others. It is situated in

p p 2

#22 THE CLUBS OF LONDON.

St. James's-square, — a quiet, unassuming mansion, hired for the pur*
pose, and entering from an adjoining street. An institution of a similar
order, the CLARENCE, originally named the Literary Union, was established
a few years ago, but failed from want of resources ; Hood, the noted pun-
ster,though capable of higher things, declaring that its members were re-
publicans in literature, because they had not a sovereign amongst them.
A new club of this order, named the MUSEUM, of humbler pretensions, and
more economic terms of admission, has lately been established in Nor-
thumberland-street, Strand ; but it is doubtful whether it will obtain
success, the ordinary places of public entertainment being more acces-
sible to the majority of those likely to become its members, and the
various literary institutions of the metropolis affording them reading
accommodation at a price still more equitable. Still, it is a movement not
to be discouraged ; and the extension of the advantages of the club-
system to a still humbler grade, as in the instance of a vast city institu-
tion, known by the somewhat puerile name of the WHITTINGTON, may
be mentioned as another praiseworthy attempt of a similar description.

But, connected somewhat with literature, somewhat with politics, and
somewhat with commerce of the highest order, is another —

THE UNION,

one of the oldest, and, until of late years, one of the most recherche of
all. This club was established in Cockspur-street, Trafalgar-square,
shortly after the institution of the Senior United Service and Athenseum ;
and, for years celebrated, has almost ever since maintained its ascend-
ancy. At one time almost equally exclusive with the Athenaeum itself,
it has of late years become more accessible, chiefly in consequence of the
increased number of similar establishments diminishing the aggregate of
candidates. But it is still select ; and the fame of its cuisine is second
to that of none in London. A small hotel, bearing a like designation,
was established on this reputation in the immediate neighbourhood ; and
we know not whether there was any connexion with the management or
not, but it speedily became so renowned for turtle, that the fortune of
the proprietor was secure : old Lord Panmure, a connoiseur of the highest
order in all culinary matters, regularly taking up his quarters in it every
year, and attending his parliamentary duties with exemplary assiduity for
the sake of the soup ; although the whole of his eloquence, during a
course of a quarter of a century, consisted of the exclamation " What a
sheam ! " in 1815, when some of the refractory populace endeavoured
to break the windows of St. Stephen's chapel, during the discussion of
the corn-law bill of that day.

The Union, as already mentioned, consists of politicians, and the
higher order of professional and commercial men, without reference to
party opinions ; and the ALFRED, the WYNDHAM, and the PARTHENON,
are clubs of similar nature ; tourists, however, predominating in the
first of these three institutions, and literateiirs in the last. The Wyndham
is rather a place of resort with country gentlemen, like Arthur's and
Boodle's ; but tourists on a grand scale, or those whose excursions have
extended to a distance of not less than five hundred miles from London,
iOr the bounds of Britain, have a club of their own —

THE CLUBS- OF LONDON. o23

THE TRAVELLERS'.

For admission to which this last-named condition is a qualification
indispensable, unless the candidate chance to be a foreign ambassador, or
to occupy high diplomatic station, when he is eligible for an honorary
member, as a matter of course. This club is exceedingly select, number-
ing the highest branches of the peerage, and the most distinguished of
the lower house of parliament, in its ranks. It consists of only seven
hundred members, but they are amongst the elite of the land :. and
Talleyrand, with some of the most eminent representatives of foreign
powers, have been enrolled in the list of its honorary members. When
ambassador to this country from the French court, the veteran diplomatist
was wont to pass his leisure hours at this favorite retreat in Pall Mall,
and steered his way as triumphantly throughout all the mazes of whist
and ecarte, as he had done amid the intricacies of the thirteen different
forms of governments — each of which he had sworn to observe.
Numerous bon mots and repartees are here recorded of him, though his
innate sense of politeness kept, when amongst foreigners, his keen-cutting
satire in restraint : but space, and the length to which the article has
already extended, at present preclude us from noting them.

Another club, devoted to travellers from a far-distant land, is ,

THE ORIENTAL,,

on the shady side of Hanover Square, established for the commerce of
affairs in the service of the East India Company, civil as well as military
and naval. In its recesses, these gentlemen find a retreat when at home
on furlough, or a re-union, with all the hot spices and fiery cookery of the
East, when they have finally retired from service, and returned faded,
crippled, and jaundiced, to repose on their handsome yet health-earned
pensions, and narrate their adventures, or fight (in talk) their fields again.
We have no space, at present, for any anecdotes connected with them —
which, sooth to say, are somewhat of a saturnine complexion, and relate
for the most part to persons or affairs " two thousand miles up the coun-
try," in whom, or in which, few of our countrymen at home would feel an
interest.

In the City there are one or two clubs of distinction, — the CITY par
excellence, and the GRESHAM ; but they present no peculiarities for notice.
Farther west, in Chancery Lane, is a LAW Club, the aim of which is
obvious ; and intermediate between this and the West End establish-
ments stands the GARRICK, the smallest, we believe, of any such institu-
tions, devoted mainly, though not entirely, to writers and members in the
dramatic school.

J»*

r
,rro;

524

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY.

No. XVI. — THE MANSLAUGHTER OF SIR CHARLES PYM.

THE Pyms, of Brymmore, in Somersetshire, were a very ancient and
honorable house : their existence, as a family of condition, is recorded as
far back as the reign of Edward IV., and their name is one of note in
English history. It was made so by the famous representative of the
race, in the seventeenth century — John Pym, the stern parliamentarian,
who acted so great a part in the eventful drama, which ended with the
overthrow of the monarchy, and the murder of the King.

John Pym's son was created a Baronet by Charles II. in 1663 ; and
his grandson, the second Baronet, was the unfortunate Sir Charles Pym,
the subject of this trial, with whose death in this painful squabble, termi-
nated the male line of the Pym's of Brymmore.

This investigation presents merely the narrative of a fatal tavern
brawl ; but it is curious as giving an insight into the turbulent manners
of the day, in London, just previous to the Revolution. The trial took
place at the Old Bailey, on the 1st of June, 1688, and, as will be seen,
King James's faithful supporter, Mr. Justice Allibone, was one of the
presiding judges.

The prisoners, Rowland Walters, Wearing Bradshaw, and Ambrose
Cave, gentlemen, were indicted for the murder of Sir Charles Pym,
Baronet, by killing him with the thrust of a rapier.

The parties accused, as well as the other gentlemen engaged in the
melancholy transaction, were persons of station and family : one of them,
Ambrose Cave, was the third son of Sir Thomas Cave, Knt., the repre-
sentative of a house still in existence, and one of the oldest in the realm.
This Ambrose Cave eventually perished by violence, being assassinated
by one Biron, an officer in the army.

The case was thus opened : —

Counsel for the King. My lords, and you gentlemen of the jury, I am
here retained a counsel for the King, against the prisoners at the bar, who
all three stand indicted for the murder of Sir Charles Pym, bart. in the
parish of St. Nicholas Cole-abbey, by thrusting him through the body near
the right pap, giving him a mortal wound, of which he then and there in-
stantly died. The other two prisoners stand indicted for aiding, abetting,
and assisting him the said Walters in the said murder.

' Another Counsel for the King. My lords, this murder fell out on the
fourth day of May last, after this manner, viz. Sir Charles Pym,
one Mr. Mirriday, Mr. Neale, and Sir Thomas Middleton, and others
dined at the Swan Tavern upon Fish-street Hill ; after they were

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY. 525

come into the house they went up-stairs ; after which the prisoners at the
bar came into the house and took another room to dine of beef and other
'things, But one of Sir Charles's company desired to have a plate of it ;
upon which Mr. Cloudsley told them some gentlemen had bespoke it for
dinner ; but he said he would get them a plate of it, which was sent up
and ordered to be reckoned into Mr. Walters the prisoner's bill. After
dinner they drank their healths, and returned them thanks for their beef;
and towards the evening, Sir Charles Pym and his friends came down-
stairs, and met the prisoners at the bottom, and Mr. Cave asked them
how they liked the beef that was sent up ? Upon which, one in the com-
pany answered, and told them, they did not send it, for they had paid for
it. Upon which, farther words arose, and Mr. Bradshaw drew his sword
and fell upon Sir Charles Pym, but he got out into the street. After
which, Mr. Walters came forth and plucked Sir Charles Pym by the arms,
and forced him to fight with him, saying, here is my hand, and here is my
. sword ; and as soon as he was in the street he received this mortal wound,
and so fell down dead. After this, Mr. Walters took him by the nape of
the neck, and dashed his head upon the ground, and cried out, damn
you, you are dead : and said farther, let the sword alone in his body.
My lord, this shall be proved to be done without any manner of provo-
cation ; and if so, I hope you, gentlemen of the jury, will find him guilty
of wilful murder.

Clerk. Call Mr, Mirriday, Mr. Neale, Mr. Palms, and Mr. Bridges.
(Who were sworn.)

Mr. Mirriday. My lord, on the 4th day of May last, on a Friday, Sir
Charles Pym, myself, and these gentlemen here in court, came to dine at
the Swan Tavern, in Old Fish-street. We asked for meat, and Mr.
Cloudsley, the man of the house, told us we might have fish, for he had
no meat but what was bespoke by Mr. Walters and his company. We
, desired him to help us to a plate of it, if it might be got, which we had
brought up-stairs ; after dinner we drank the gentlemen's healths that
sent it, and returned them thanks for it. A while after, Sir Thomas Mid-
dleton went away, and about an hour after that or thereabouts, Sir Charles
Pym and the rest of us came down to go away ; and when we were in
the entry, Mr. Cave met us and asked Sir Charles how he liked the beef
that was sent up ; who answered, we did not know you sent.it, for we
have paid for it. Then the boy that kept the bar told us that he did not
reckon it in the bill ; upon which Mr. Cave seemed to take it ill : but,
my lord, I cannot be positive whether Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Palms
were at any words. Then I took Mr. Cave to one side, into the entry,
and he thought that I had a mind to fight him, but I did what I could to
make an end of the quarrel. [Upon which the Court highly commended
Mr. Mirriday.]

Court. This was in the entry, but where was Sir Charles Pym ?

Mr. Mirriday. He was then in the entry.

Court. Where was Mr. Walters ?

Mirriday. He was at the door, my lord ; but I cannot swear posi-
tively to any particular passage as to the murder ; but Mr. Walters called
Sir Charles Pym rogue, and gave him very ill words, and I saw him take
him by the neck and force his head downwards, and said, with an oath,
he is dead, to the best of my remembrance, my lord, Then I took Sir
Charles up in my arms and pulled the sword out of his body ; and then Mr.

526 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

Walters said, with an oath, let it stay in his body, or words to that
effect,

Court. Was Mr. Cave or Mr. Bradshaw at the place where Sir Charles fell ?

Mirriday. No, my lord, they were in the entry scuffling there.

Court. What came of Mr. Walters afterwards ?

Mirriday. My lord, he stayed a little, till I had pulled the sword out
of his body, and then he ran away.

Court. Did they draw their swords in the entry ?

Mirriday. I cannot tell that.

Court. Did you see them draw their swords ?

Mirriday. I cannot say Sir Charles Pym's sword was drawn, but I
saw Mr. Walters draw his sword in the street.

Court. Do you know whether Mr. Walters was wounded or no ?

Mirriday. I do not know that, for I did not see the wound given.

Court. Mr. Walters, will you ask him any questions ?

Walters. Yes, my lord : Mr. Mirriday, what did you say to Sir Charles
Pym in the fishmonger's shop ? Did you not say, go and fight him, and
I will be your second I

Mirriday. My lord, I do not remember one word of that.

Court. Mr. Mirriday, were you in any fishmonger's shop ?

Mirriday. Yes, my lord, I was there ; but I do not remember one
word between Mr. Walters and Sir Charles, and, as I hope for salvation,
I said no such thing ; and that 's all I have to say.

Clerk. Cryer, call Mr. Neale.

Mr. Neale. My lord, I went and met with these gentlemen that dined
with us at the aforesaid tavern, and we had fish and two beef marrow-
bones and a plate of beef for dinner ; and when we came down to go
away, these gentlemen met us, and said, with an oath, how did you like
the beef ? which raised a quarrel among us; but immediately, after I
thought it was all over, I saw Mr. Walters run Sir Charles Pym through.

Court. Was his sword drawn ?

Neale. Yes, both of their swords were drawn.

Court. Where was Mr. Bradshaw ?

Neale. I cannot tell where he was directly : but, my lord, I heard Sir
Charles Pym say nothing to Mr. Walters.

Clerk. Cryer, call Mr. Palms.

Palms. My lord, after the reckoning was paid, we came down-stairs
and called for a coach, and because it rained there was none to be had,
and these gentlemen followed us into the entry, and so words to the same
purpose as aforesaid passed between them ; after which I met Mr. Brad-
shaw, and we fell out in the fishmonger's shop.

Court. Who began ?

Palms. I know not, I cannot remember that.

Court. Were you not in drink ?

Palms. My lord, we drank nine or ten bottles among six of us ; after
which Mr. Bradshaw and I drew our swords, and then Mr. Mirriday
came and took him away from me, into the entry, and in the mean time,
while we were talking in the entry, the business was done.

%purt. Were your swords put up again ?

Palms. I had put up mine.

Counsel for the King. Did you take notice of what passed between
Mr. Walters and Sir Charles Pym ?

THE ARISTOCRACY. 527

Palms. I heard nothing of high words.

Court. Yes, yes, it was all ahout the heef.

Clerk. Cryer, call for Mr. Presland, the bar-keeper.

Presland. My lord, I made the bill for the reckoning.

Court. Did you put the beef into the bill ?

Presland. No, I did not ; when they came down-stairs, the coach was
fetched for them, viz., for Sir Charles Pym and his company, and the
reckoning was paid. When Sir Charles Pym and the rest of his company
came down into the entry, Mr. Walters came out of the room, &c., and I
heard them argue about their dinner, and they came to me, and asked me
what was to pay for beef, and I told them nothing.

Court. Did you see the man killed ?

Presland. My lord, I did not see him killed, not I.

Court. Who was it that quarrelled with the coachman ?

Presland. My lord, Mr. Neale quarrelled with the coachman about
his staying : the coachman refused going with him, because his horses
were hot.

Clerk. Cryer, call Mr. Brummidge.

Brummidge. My lord, between eleven and twelve o'clock in the morn-
ing, on the 4th of May last, Sir Charles Pym came to Mr. Cloudsley's
house in a coach, and asked him what he might thave for dinner ; who
told him that he might have a mullet and some smelts, and I sold a mul-
let to Mr. Cloudsley ; so Sir Charles went to the Exchange, and I saw
no more of him till I saw him killed. While I was in the house, came
in one Mr. Allen and others, to inquire for Sir Charles Pym, and Mr.
Cloudsley told them that he had bespoke a dinner, viz., a mullet and some
smelts, and was gone to the Exchange ; but one of the gentlemen desired
a bit of the beef that was at the fire, so Mr. Cloudsley said he would get
a plate for him. So I went to the door and the coachman came, and his
horses being hot, he desired to go away because it rained ; but Mr. Neale
put his foot-boy into the coach, and the coachman after pulled his boy
out of the coach and drove away. And after that, I saw Mr. Cave and
others come to the door, and jostled each other into the next shop, and
were at very high words ; and so afterwards they went into the entry
again, and Sir Charles Pym and Mr. Walters came out without the door,
the latter of which said, " Here is my hand, and here is my sword ;" but
they returned both in again into the tavern, and within two minutes came
out again, and I saw Mr. Walters thrust Sir Charles Pym through his back.

Court. Did you see him do anything to him after he was down ?

Brummidge. No, my lord, I did not.

Court. Did you not say that Walters went over the kennel, and drew
his sword, and stood upon his guard ; and then you say, that you saw
Sir Charles Pym come out with his sword drawn ; was his sword drawn?

Brummidge. I did not see him draw it ; but it was drawn.

Court. Where did he receive his wound ?

Brummidge. Within a foot of the kennel ; I was but a little way off,
but I did not see him beat his head against the ground.

Clerk. Cryer, call Mr. Fletcher.

Fletcher. My lord, on Friday, in the evening on the 4th of May, I was
going by the tavern door about seven o'clock at night, and I heard a noise
and a talking of going to the other end of the town to be merry : and
turning myself back to hearken further, I saw Mr. Walters come out of

528 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

the door and draw his sword, and Sir Charles Pym came out and drew
his sword ; and presently Mr. Walters's sword was through Sir Charles
Pym's body almost a foot ; and he fell down crinkling immediately ; and
when he was down, I saw Mr. Walters hit him in the kennel, and take
him by the nape of the neck, and after cried,with an oath, let the sword
stick in his body ; and afterwards I saw Mr. Mirriday pull the sword out
of his body.

Court. " Did you see Mr. Bradshaw there when Sir Charles fell ?

Fletcher. No, my lord I saw none there but Mr, Walters and Sir Charles,
they were out of doors, and the rest were in the entry.

Mary White and Sarah Webb were called, who could give little or no
evidence as to matter of fact, as concerning the death of Sir Charles ; and
being timorous, could not see what they might have seen.

Clerk. Cryer, call Mr. Allen.

Allen. I know but very little of the matter, but that there was a plate
of beef sent up to us, but we knew not from whence it came, till after-
wards the drawer brought us word that the gentlemen below had sent it
up ; after which, we drank their healths and returned them thanks for it.
After which, I went to the coffee-house hard by, and sat about half an
hour, and presently heard a cry of murder, and I came down and saw Sir
Charles Pym lying with a wound in his body, and another in his head,
but I did not know who it was, not then ; but I asked who did this busi-
ness, and exhorted the people to take them as soon as they could.

Court. I think you said that Mr. Bradshaw's sword was drawn ?

Alien. Yes, it was, but I believe that he did not know that Sir
Charles Pym was killed.

Mrs. Sheepwash was called, but could depose nothing material.

Court. Mr. Walters, you have been here indicted together with Mr.
Bradshaw and Mr. Cave, for the murder of Sir Charles Pym, knight, and
hart., you have heard what charge hath been laid against you, which
hath been a very strong one, and now it behoves you to make your de-
fence as well as you can.

Walters. My lord, I was no way the occasion of the quarrel : when
I came thither, I asked for some meat, and having not eaten all the day
before, we had a piece of beef, of which Sir Charles Pym and his com-
pany had some, who afterwards drank our healths, as I was informed.
For my part, my lord I, never saw the gentleman before in my days : my
lord, I am very sorry it should be my misfortune to kill him in the quar-
rel. Sir Charles Pym asked me, saying, with an oath, " Sir, what have
you to do to meddle?" I went presently, my lord, to a fishmonger's,
where Mr. Mirriday was, and Sir Charles Pym came, and Mr. Mirriday
said to him, Sir Charles, " Damn you, Sir, go and fight him, and I will
be your second." And presently they came upon me, and I drew my
sword in my own defence, and he ran me eight inches into the thigh, and
at the same pass, I had the misfortune, my lord, to run him into the
body.

Court. Would you ask Mr. Mirriday any questions ?

Walters. Yes, my lord. Mr. Mirriday, did you see me strike Sir
Charles's head upon the ground ?

Mirriday. No, Sir, I did not see that ; neither did I say any such
thing in the fishmonger's shop, as to bid Sir Charles fight you.

Clerk. Cryer, call Matthew Perin.

THE ARISTOCRACY. 529

My lord, all that I saw of the business was, that when the
coachman was called to the door, Mr. Neale came and threatened him
if he did not stay ; then Mr. Cave and Mr. Bradshaw were in the entry,
and I heard them discourse about beef ; and some of them said, you give
us beef and make us pay for it ; and there was answer made, they were
rascals that said so, for they did not. There was one of the gentlemen in
our shop hearing of it, said, let me come to him, I will fight him.

Court. Do you know the man ?

Perin. No, I do not know who it was.

Walters. I was wounded at the same time, my lord.

Court. That is admitted of.

Walters. Let him be asked whether I beat the head against the
ground.

Perin. No, my lord, I did not see him do that.

Court. He had a wound, the question is how he came by it ; whether
he might not fall upon it himself, it was a slanting wound ?

Walters. Pray, my lord, let Sir Charles's sword be seen, all blood.
[But that gave no satisfaction on either side.]

Court. Mr. Bradshaw, what have you to say for yourself ?

Mr. Bradshaw. My lord, I was there, but I know nothing of the
death of Sir Charles Pym, nor how he came by it ; there were some
words arose amongst us, and I desired them to cease, for fear a farther
quarrel should ensue upon it.

Court. Mr. Cave, what have you to say ?

Mr. Cave. I know no more of the matter than this gentleman saith :
I saw not Sir Charles Pym killed.

Clerk. Cryer, make proclamation.

Cryer. All people are commanded to keep silence, upon pain of
imprisonment.

Then Mr. Baron Jenner summed up the evidence as followeth : —

Baron Jenner. Gentlemen of the jury, you have three persons in-
dicted, viz. Mr. Walters, Mr. Bradshaw, and Mr. Cave, for murdering
Sir Charles Pym, bart., and have had several witnesses called for the
•King, against the prisoners at the bar : the first of which was Mr. Mirri-
day, and he gives you this account, and it is all that each and every one
gives, and it agrees on all sides ; and he tells you, that all those gentle-
men were to dine at Mr. Cloudsley's, at the Swan Tavern in Old Fish
Street ; and, that they were there at dinner, it is very plainly proved.
And being there, it seems that some of those gentlemen had bespoke a
fish dinner, some flesh, and had some — viz. a plate of beef. And he
tells you, also, that when dinner was over, some words did arise con-
cerning the reckoning, and that one of the companies were got down-
stairs in the entry, where a further quarrel did arise. Mr. Mirriday tells
you further, that Mr. Bradshaw and he quarrelled, so there was a scuffle
in the entry ; after which, things were pretty well quieted there ; in
comes Mr. Walters and Sir Charles Pym, and while Mr. Mirriday was
securing the first quarrel, they, viz. Sir Charles Pym and Mr. Walters,
were got out at the door, and Sir Charles was stooping down, and Mr.
Walters was pushing upon his neck and throwing him down.

So said Mr. Mirriday ; and when he went to take the sword out of
his body, he saw him a dying man.

The next evidence was Mr. Neale, and he observes to you, that one

530 CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

of the gentlemen did say, that the quarrel was not intended against
them ; and he gives an account of the story, how that it was about the
beef ; how that Sir Charles was run through by Walters, but he did not
see him knock his head against the ground.

Mr. Palms gives the like account, and saith, — that whilst they were a
scuffling in the entry, Sir Charles was killed at the door.

The next evidence is the drawer, who tells you of a squabble that Mr*.
Neale had with the coachman at the door, and how that there was left
four of the gentlemen behind, and that the coachman was unwilling to
wait, because it rained, his horses being hot they might catch cold ;
whereupon, he put his footboy into the coach, and threatened the coach-
man if he went away : this was before they fell out about the meat.

The next evidence was one Mr. Brummidge, the fishmonger ; he gives
the same account, how that a quarrel was ' amongst them, and how that
Mr. Walters was on one side of the kennel, and Sir Charles Pym on the
other side, and there they stood with their swords drawn ; and as soon
as they came close, they wounded each other, and Sir Charles Pym was
killed ; but he did not see his head knocked against the ground.

Comes Fletcher, my Lord Mayor's officer, and he tells you, that he
was going by the door home into Bread Street, and he sees a man that
was wounded stooping down ; and he swears that Mr. Walters took him
by the nape of his neck, and knocked his head against the ground, and
heard him swear, let the sword stick in him. Sarah Webb, and another
woman, speak it to be in the like manner ; and one of them talks of
Mr. Walters's pulling Sir Charles Pym out of the entry before he would
come out.

Last of all, gentlemen, here was Mr. Allen, one of their company,
who went away to the coffee-house, and hearing murder cried out, he
came and found Sir Charles Pym killed, and quite dead. This, gentle-
men, is the evidence that you have heard, as near as I can give it you.

Now, for the prisoner, Mr. Walters, he would have you believe as if
Sir Charles had struck him before he drew his sword ; but he has not
proved it : likewise speaks of Mr. Fletcher, but he does not remember
that Sir Charles Pym struck him before he drew : but so it was, gentle-
men, there was a quarrel, in which that honorable and worthy gentleman,
Sir Charles Pym, lost his life.

Now, for Mr. Bradshaw, he confesseth, that there was a quarrel ; but
he saith, that he did not know when or how Sir Charles Pym was killed ;
and for Mr. Cave, I do not find anything objected against him, nor
either of them.

Now, gentlemen, I must tell you what the law is in this case : first of
all, to begin with Mr. Walters, so as it fares with Mr. Walters, so you
may be guided to deal with the other two. Now it hath not been made
appear, by any of the evidence that you have heard, that there was any
premeditated malice between them, for they were never in company be-
fore, and knew not each other ; so that there could be no manner of
malice from him in particular.

The next step, gentlemen, is, here is nothing that can impute a general
malice upon Mr. Walters ; for if I had no design to kill a man, and kill
another with whom I do not quarrel, that cannot be any premeditated
malice ; but I rather think that there was a little heat of wine amongst
them : and this whole action was carried on by nothing else but by a hot

THE ARISTOCRACY. 531

and sudden frolic ; and I am very sorry that it should fall upon such a
worthy gentleman as he was. And, if there was no malice premeditated,
then he can be found guilty of nothing but manslaughter ; and, as for the
other two, they must be totally acquitted. If I have erred in the sum-
ming up of these evidences, or mistaken myself in any point, here are
my brothers to help me.

Then the gentlemen of the jury withdrew for about the space of half
an hour, and returned into court upon a scruple of conscience ; one
amongst them spoke to the court as followeth : —

Juryman. My lord, we are not satisfied in our consciences concerning
the death of Sir Charles Pym ; we find in it malice forethought ; because
after he had run the sword through his body, he was not satisfied with
that, but must knock his head against the ground ; so we do take it, that
the said Sir Charles Pym was maliciously murdered.

Justice Allibone. Gentlemen of the jury, I shall endeavour to direct
you in this case, and tell you what the law saith, — That it cannot reach
a man's life where no prepense malice is proved ; that there is none
proved, appears very plain to me, and I hope also to you, because it
hath been proved, that those gentlemen, viz. the prisoners at the bar, and
the deceased, had never been in company before. Gentlemen, you are
upon your oaths to serve the King as jurymen ; and I, as a judge, am
upon my oath to try the cause as well on the behalf of the living as the
dead. So that upon the whole matter, gentlemen, this can be called
nothing else but a storm, an ungoverned storm, that such men are subject
to ; so that it does not reach precedent malice, but subsequent passion ;
which sad passion was continued to that height, that Sir Charles Pym, in
the midst of it, lost his life.

Then the jury went out again for about a quarter of an hour ; and,
returning, brought in Mr. Walters guilty of manslaughter ; but the other
two were acquitted.

532

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

ELIZABETH AND MARY BULLYN, COUSINS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH.

IN a remote part of the King's County, Ireland, adjoining the village
of Shannon Harbour, is the tomb of two fair cousins of the unhappy Anne
Boleyn, consort of Henry VIII. The story of its discovery is curious,
and is so little known as to be worthy of minute narration ; while the
personages to whom it refers confer upon it very great additional
interest.

Shannon Harbour is a small hamlet, with a population of about 200.
It derives its appellation from being one of the stations of the Inland
Steam Navigation Company of Ireland, it being situated at the junction
of the Grand Canal with the river Shannon, en route from Limerick to
Dublin. In its immediate neighbourhood are the sites of several battle-
fields of the sixteenth century ; and continually, in the ordinary routine
of husbandry, the peasantry turn up broken spears and swords, and the
fragments of what once was man. In 1803, when the canal locks were
undergoing repairs, some labourers who were quarrying in the vicinity of
the village, beneath the ruined castle of Clonoona, happened on an
extensive cave in the limestone rock. Having removed some loose
stones that were piled up at its farther end, they uncovered a huge slab,
eight feet in length by four in breadth, and nearly a foot in thickness.
When the slab was raised, a coffin chiselled in the solid rock, and con-
taining two female skeletons, much decayed, was revealed to view ; and
on the lower side of the superincumbent flag was this inscription, cut in
alto relievo : —

HERE • under ' LEYS • ELISABETH • AND •
MARY • BULLYN • DAVGHTERS • OF • THOMAS •
BULLYN • SON • OF • GEORGE • BULLYN • THE •
SON • OF • GEORGE • BULLYN • VICOUNT •
ROCHFORD • SON • OF • SR • THOMAS • BULLYN •
ERLE • OF • ORMOND • AND • WILLSHEERE •

In the picture-gallery of the Earl of Rosse, at Parsonstown, in the
King's County, were formerly two sweet female faces, inscribed, the
one, "Anno setatis, IS" and the other, "Anno setatis, 17," but other-
wise anonymous. No one knew who were intended to be represented
by them, although the noble Earl was well aware of his maternal descent
from Alice, daughter of Sir William Bullyn of Blickling, until the dis-
covery of this tomb. Then it was remarked that the elder wore a jewel
in her bosom, in shape like the letter E, and that her sister had fastened
behind the ear a marygold ; and the rebus of old painters was remem-
bered, who generally indicated by this quaint method the name of the
individual their pencil had drawn. The Mary and Elizabeth of this

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 533

deeply-hidden tomb were now discovered ; and few who looked on the
mildewed and wasted relics, and contrasted with them the mild and loving
countenances that looked down upon them from the antique picture-
frames, could help a shudder at remembering the woful alteration. The
boasted human form — the human face divine ! and must they come to
this ? Ah, yea, indeed. " Now get you to my lady's chamber, and
tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come : make
her laugh at that." But — we may not moralize.

It is hard to account for the obscure hiding of those whose lineage so
palpably connected them with the blood royal, otherwise than by con-
jecturing that the fury of the insatiate Henry was not extinguished even
with the blood of his innocent wife, but that he must have pursued with
his wrath her near relatives, and that some of them fled for refuge to the
Irish shores. In the very making of the sepulchre there was an evident
seeking for concealment, as though the names of the dead themselves
might have led to the identification and prejudice of the living.

" Soon after the sepulchral stone," says a writer in an extinct Irish
periodical, " was first disturbed, an amazing number of worms, of the
centipede description, made their appearance about the place. They
were about an inch and a half long, and of a black colour, excepting on
the belly, which was brownish. They were constantly seen to proceed
in multitudes from the tomb, across the fields, towards a house which
had been erected hard by, for the accommodation of some quarrymen.
Here they gathered in such numbers as to hang pendant from the roof at
times, like clusters of bees after swarming. The consequence was, that
the house acquired the name of Maggotty House, and it was remarked to
be exceedingly unwholesome, an unusual number of persons having died
in it. At last it became totally deserted, no one daring to live there."

We believe the two portraits we have described are no longer in ex-
istence. A disastrous fire at Parsonstown, in June, 1832, consumed a
great part of Lord Rosse's pictures, and among them, we understand,
those of Elizabeth and Mary Bully n.

THE YOUNG CHEVALIER.

In the Episcopal Church of Frescati is an urn, containing the heart of
Prince Charles Edward. It is inscribed with these beautiful lines,
written by the Abbate Felice, one of the chaplains of the Cardinal York,
the last of the Stuarts : —

" Di Carlo il freddo cinere
Questa brev' urna serra ;
Figlio de Terzo Giacomo,
Segnor d' Inghilterra,
Fuor' de regno patrio.
A' lui che tomba diede ?
Infidelta di popolo,
Integrita defede"

However much the Stuarts may be blamed — and that there is abun-
dant cause of censure none will deny — their misfortunes lend their
history a saddened interest. And now, after the lapse of many years,
when men can think and talk quietly about them, pity must enter

534 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

largely into our feelings respecting these outcast princes. They erred
grievously, and they were punished heavily ; and if suffering can in any
wise atone for imprudence, then surely the meed of consideration cannot
be long withheld from them, whose tears should have wiped away all
traces of their transgression.

THE BIRTH-PLACE AND BIRTH-DAY OF THE DUKE Otf
WELLINGTON.

A small print, which lies before us as we write, presents to us the
existing state of Dangan Castle, in the county of Meath, Ireland — the
reputed birth-place of his Grace the Duke of Wellington. We say "re-
puted," for the claim has been more than once controverted by writers
who maintain that the Irish metropolis must be adjudged that honour.
And, certainly, -a current Dublin story declares that the Great Hero was
born in St. Andrew's parish, in that city, at the Earl of Mornington's
residence, Spring Gardens, College Green — a house long since taken
down, but which stood nearly opposite to the grand front of the old
Irish Parliament House. The disputes respecting the birth-places of
illustrious men have been, and we suppose ever will be, of constant re-
currence. Their cause is natural and apparent. In the present instance
we see no reason to question the authenticity of the received opinion,
which assigns to the crumbling ruins of this venerable pile before us the
glory of such an undying reminiscence.

Dangan Castle is situated within two miles of the village of Summer-
hill, in the parish of Larracor (memorable from its recollections of Swift),
and is distant seventeen miles from Dublin, in a north-west direction.
A ruin itself, it stands in the centre of a once fruitful but now deserted
demesne, that has been completely "cleared" by the woodman's axe.
Close at hand is the basin of a drained lake. Of the castle the mere
shell is standing, in a portion of which a straw-thatched peasant's hut has
been erected. Dangan was anciently a fortress of the Fitz-Eustaces,
Lords Portlester, and was probably founded early in the fourteenth
century by one of that family. From them it passed to the Earls of
Kildare, and from them (through the Plunkets, Lords Killeen) to the
Wesleys, or Porleys, the ancestors of the illustrious warrior we are
speaking of. The Marquis Wellesley sold Dangan to Colonel Burrowes,
by whom it was leased to Mr. Roger O'Connor, during whose tenancy
the whole building was dismantled by conflagration. No attempt was
made to rebuild or restore it.

The birth-day of our hero has been the subject of misapprehension,
even on the part of the late Colonel Gurwood, the editor of his " De-
spatches." In the registry of St. Peter's parish, Dublin, the entry of his
Grace's baptism has been lately found, which proves him to be a day, if
not more, older than he is thought to be. The entry is —

" 1769. April 30. — Arthur, son of the Right Honourable Earl and Countess
of Morningtort. Baptized."

And immediately beneath is the attesting signature of " ISAAC MANN,
Archdeacon." Dr. Mann was consecrated Bishop of Cork and Ross in
1772, and occupied that see until his death in 1789.

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY, 535

ARCHBISHOPS OF YORK.

THEXIE have been fourteen Archbishops of York since the Restoration*
Immediately after that great event the famous DR. ACCEPTED FREWEN —
the friend of Laud and the devoted adherent of King Charles I. — was
translated from the See of Lichfield to the Northern Archiepiscopal prelacy.
His Grace was eldest son of the Rev. John Frewen of Northiam, in
Sussex, a learned P uritan divine, and received his education at the Free-
School of Canterbury, and at Magdalen College, Oxford. His earliest op-
portunity of gaining public distinction seems to have been at Madrid , where
he happened to be, in the capacity of Chaplain to the Embassy, when
Prince Charles and the Duke of Buckingham paid their romantic visit to
the Court of Spain, and where he preached so impressive and elo-
quent a sermon before the Prince, that when Charles ascended the throne
he called for Frewen by name, and, with his own hand, placed him on the
list of Royal Chaplains. At the breaking out of the Civil War, Dr.
Frewen, who then held the Presidency of Magdalen College, was mainly
instrumental in sending the University plate to the King at Oxford, and
he also advanced £500 out of his own resources for his Majesty's ser-
vice. His Grace, died Unmarried, 28th March, 1664, leaving his fortune
to his brother, Stephen Frewen, a wealthy citizen of London, from whom
derive the families of Frewen, of Northiam and Frewen, of Brick wall.
House, Sussex.

The next Archbishop was RICHAED STEENE, who had previously held
the See of Carlisle. His Grace, the son of Simon .Sterne, of Mansfield,
became Chaplain to Laud, and was committed to the Tower with
that illustrious divine. At the Restoration he was consecrated Bishop
of Carlisle, and died Archbishop of York in 1683, aged 87. His second
son, Simon Sterne, of Elrington and Halifax, married Mary, heiress of,
Roger Jacques, Esq., and was grandfather of LAUBENCE STEENE, the
author of " Tristram Shandy." The crest of the Archbishop's family —
" a starling" — may possibly have suggested the pathetic episode on the
"Poor Caged Bird," in the "Sentimental Journey."

DE. JOHN DOI.BEN, Bishop of Rochester, succeeded Sterne. This prelate,
prior to entering into Holy Orders, was a military officer, and distinguished
himself during the Civil War under the royal standard, particularly'at the
defence of York, where he received a severe wound. He was Lord High
Almoner and Clerk of the closet to Charles II., and, during the prohibition
of the Liturgy, was accustomed to read it in a house opposite All Soul's
College, of which a memorial is preserved in a fine painting by Sir Peter
Lely, at Finedon, a copy of which hangs in the hall of Christ Church,
Oxford. Dr. Dolben died in 1686, leaving a son, Sir Gilbert Dolben,
Bart., one of the judges of the Common Pleas, whose great-grandson, Sir
John English Dolben, the last of his race, died in 1837. This remark-
able person was devotedly attached to classical literature and antiquities, and
supported with great zeal, but at the same time, with equal toleration, the
principles of the Established Church. Previously to his final retirement
into the country, he lingered with much affection about the haunts of
his youthful studies and amusements, being alike conspicuous for his
venerable deportment and harmless eccentricity. He was a constant
visitor at the Commemoration Dinners at Christ Church ; and he fre-

VOL. IV. NO. XX. Q Q

530 FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY.

quently joined the juvenile ranks at Westminster School, whom he would
accompany to service at the Ahbey, saying, he was the youngest among
them beginning to count afresh from seventy. He had his cards printed
in black letter type, saying he was himself " old English," and that was
the most appropriate style for him. He carried so many small volumes
about with him in his numerous and capacious pockets, that he appeared
like a walking library ; and his memory, especially in classical quotations,
was equally well stored. These few passing words on old Sir English
Dolben, as pious and kind-hearted a gentleman as ever existed, will not
be deemed irrelevant, with reference to his learned and distinguished
predecessor the Archbishop of York.

The next prelate in succession, THOMAS LAMPLUGH, was a descendant
of the ancient Cumberland family of Lamplugh, of Lamplugh, now repre-
sented by Lord Brougham as heir general. His Grace — successively Prin-
cipal of St. Alban's Hall, Oxford, Archdeacon of London, and Bishop of
Exeter, died at Bishopsthorp in 1691, aged 76, leaving a son. Archdeacon
Thomas Lamplugh, D.D., ancestor of Mr. Lamplugh Raper, of Lamplugh
and Lotherton. The vacancy in the See of York was supplied by
the elevation of the learned Dean of Canterbury, Dr. JOHN SHARP,
the son of a tradesman at Bradford, and the descendant of an old
but decayed family long settled at Little Norton, in Bradford Dale.
During the reign of James II., he had incurred the monarch's dis-
pleasure by his sermons against Rome, and suffered suspension. By
William III., however, and Queen Anne, he was much esteemed, and
had the honour of preaching the Coronation Sermon of the latter sove-
reign. Dr. Sharpe's pulpit eloquence became very popular. His dis-
courses, which have been collected in seven octavo volumes, still main-
tain their reputation. His death occurred 2d Feb. 1714. The next
archbishop was Sir WILLIAM DAWES, translated from Chester. He suc-
ceeded to his family baronetcy at the decease of his brother, and died in
1 724, leaving a son, Sir D' Arcy Dawes, Bart. Next to Dr. Dawes followed
LANCELOT BLACKBURN, who had been consecrated Bishop of Exeter in
1716; and after him, came THOMAS HERRING, a prelate celebrated for his
eloquence and public spirit. He filled the archiepiscopal See of York
during the memorable year 1745 ; and, on learning the defeat of the
King's troops at Preston Pans, convened a meeting of the nobility,
gentry, and clergy at York, to whom he addressed a spirited speech, and
imparted so much enthusiasm that no less than £40,000 was immediately
subscribed to raise troops for the national defence. These services and
his general reputation, naturally advanced him to the Primacy at the death
of Archbishop Potter, and he held the See of Canterbury until his death,
in 1757. His son, Thomas Herring, Esq., married the sister of Sir Wil-
liam Cooper, Bart., and was ancestor of the present Harman Herring
Cooper, Esq., of Shrewl Castle, county Wicklow. Dr. Herring's pre-
ferment to Canterbury made way for the advancement of MATTHEW HUT-
TON, Bishop of Bangor, to the See of York. This divine was the second son
of John Hutton, Esq., of Marske, and descended, in the fifth degree, from
Matthew Hutton, who filled the northern Primacy in 1594, and of whom
it is recorded that " he was so little of a sycophant, that he durst preach
before a court on the instability of kingdoms and the change of dynasties,
and durst ring in Elizabeth's ears the funeral knell of a succession." Dr.
Hutton was eventually translated, as his predecessor Herring had been.,

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY. 537

to the Archbishopric of Canterbury. That event happened in 1757, when
JOHN GILBERT, Bishop of Salisbury, received the mitre of York. His
Grace died in 1761, and was succeeded in his See by the Hon. and Right
Rev. ROBERT DRUMMOND who had been successively Prebendary of West-
minster and Bishop of St. Asaph and Salisbury. He was second son of
George Henry, seventh Earl of Kinnoul, and grandson maternally of Ro-
bert Harley, Earl of Oxford, the celebrated Lord High Treasurer ; and
assumed the surname of Drummond according to the deed of entail of his
great grandfather, William Viscount Strathallan. His Grace died in 1 776,
leaving, with other issue, a son Robert, who became ninth Earl of Kinnoul.
After Dr. Drummond, the next Archbishop of York was WILLIAM MARK-
HAM, who had filled the important situation of preceptor to the Prince of
Wales, and had held the See of Chester for the six preceding years. Dr.
Markham was by birth an Irishman, but claimed descent from the ancient
Nottinghamshire family of Markham, of Coatham. His grandson is the
present Col. Wm. Markham, of Becca Hall, near Tadcaster. Archbishop
Markham died in 1807, aged 88, and was interred in Westminster Abbey.
His Grace was the immediate predecessor of the late venerable divine,
EDWARD HARCOURT, whose death, during the past month, has suggested
this brief summary of " the Primates of England."

The present Archbishop of York, Dr. THOMAS MUSGRAVE, is a native
of Cambridge. His father, the late Mr. W« Peete Musgrave, was a
woollen draper and tailor, and obtained some notoriety about the end of
the last century as a warm and liberal supporter of the Whigs in the
University town. The Archbishop, who is about sixty years of age,
married, in 1839, the Hon. Catherine Cavendish, daughter of Richard,
second Lord Waterpark.

SONNET.

GUERNSEY, to me and in my partial eyes

Thou art a holy and enchanted isle,

Where I would linger long, and muse the while
Of ancient thoughts and solemn memories,

Quickening the tender tear or pensive smile :
Guernsey ! for nearly thrice a hundred years
Home of my fathers ! refuge from their fears

And haven to their hope — when long of yore,
Fleeing Imperial Charles and bloody Rome,

Protestant-martyrs, to thy sea-girt shore
They came, to seek a temple and a home,

And found thee generous ! I, their son, would pour
My heartful all of praise and thanks to thee,
Island of welcomes — friendly, frank, and free !

MARTIN F. TUPPER.

QQ 2

538

THE ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY.
No. I. — BAYARD.

No character of the middle ages stands out in brighter relief than that
of Bayard, the knight " sans peur et sans reproche." He was not, indeed,
the first who bore this honorable designation. Another knight — Bon
chevalier sans paour — had previously been distinguished by some such
epithet, as the father of Sir Dynadan, one of the Knights of the Round
Table ; and Bayard has been equalled, if not surpassed, by our own Sir
Philip Sidney — perhaps Sir Sidney Smith — and many modern successors.
Neither was he conspicuous for any great achievement in arms ; and in no
great action, such as Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, was it his fortune to
bear part. He also was concerned, either as principal or associate, in several
incidents, which by no means realize our modern ideas of chivalry ; and
yet posterity, with one accord, concurs in his designation. Many loftier
names are to be found in the contemporary history of France, and those
countries with which he was associated ; yet he, almost alone, of all the
number, is now recollected — a circumstance which may, perhaps, be
attributed to the general barbarity of those days, but must also spring
from his own innate worth.

Pierre de Terrail — the patronymic designation of the chevalier — was
the cadet or younger son of the knightly family of Bayard in Daupliine,
and was born at the Chateau of that name, in the year 1476. . The old
chronicles inform us, that his ancestors had been distinguished for three
generations, and three sons were born to the old knight of Terrail to
inherit his progenitors' renown. The old gentleman had earned fame in
the battle of Spurs ; his father had fallen at either Agincourt or Poitiers.
The former, however, lived to the age of eighty ; and a short time before
his death, according to the custom of those days, summoned the sons to
his presence. In reply to the usual interrogatory, the eldest expressed
his resolution to remain at home, and fight the bears, with which the
country teemed ; the castle and its appurtenances were consequently left
to him : the second preferred devotion to the church, a wealthy abbacy
being in the family : but the third and youngest, our hero Pierre, then a
youth of thirteen, was intent solely on war, and consequently soon after-
wards was despatched to the court of the Duke of Savoy, to be instructed
in the noble art of arms.

Warfare then was a very different game from at present. The recollec-
tion of the Grecian phalanx, and the Roman infantry, had gone out of
date — if, indeed, the names of either Rome or Greece were known to the
accomplished knights of the period — and cavalry alone was held in
estimation. Foot soldiers were reckoned as so many "villains," and in

THE ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY.

battle, accounted as nothing. The graceful horsemanship of young
Pierre accordingly soon attracted attention ; and high things were pre-
dicted of him, when, in the court-yard of the Duke, he kept his seat,
notwithstanding all the efforts of an unruly steed to throw him. His
mother called him aside, and bestowed on him her purse ; an old uncle,
a bishop, was in raptures : and a youthful boast from Pierre, that in six
years he would bestride an animal over some field more perilous, drew
forth greater admiration than if he had taught the churchman to spell
the initiatory word of his breviary. In the household of the Duke of
Savoy he soon acquired other distinctions ; its reigning princes of those
days being as conspicuous for honour and fidelity as they subsequently
became for intrigue and faithlessness when, as it was remarked, the geo-
graphical portion of their dominions rendered it impossible that they
should be morally honest. The reigning prince was a man, who, on
being, asked by some northern ambassador for his hounds, shewed him a
long array of poor at his dinner- table, and said, " Voila mes chiens — the
dogs by which I expect to chase and get hold of Paradise ; " and the
Duchess, if we may believe report, was in every respect worthy of her
lord. The troubadours of the period exhaust the language of eulogy, in
describing the beauties of her person and the grace of her mind. She
was in the flower of age when the young Bayard was entrusted to her
care ; and under so accomplished a personage, he soon became so con-
spicuous for his elegant and chivalrous demeanour, that the Duke, six
months afterwards, deemed him the most acceptable present he could
make to Charles the Eighth of France, on meeting that sovereign at
Lyons. With his horse, he was accordingly passed over to his Majesty's
service, and obtained the name of Picquet, from the graceful manner in
which lie made his steed curvet in the King's presence. Charles quickly
assigned him to a mentor of the house of Luxembourg, with whom he
remained till his seventeenth year, when he made his fir&t essay in
arms.

A noted Knight, De Valdre, of Burgundy, was his opponent. This
chevalier, one of the boldest known, had then come to Lyons, and hung
up his shield in defiance of all adventurers, whether on horse or foot.
He had inspired such alarm, that none ventured to answer the challenge ;
and Piquet, in this emergency, being still in the service of the French
King, from whom he received an annual allowance of three horses and
three hundred francs, considered himself bound in honour to touch the
shield — the usual mode of signifying acceptance. The King at arms
expressed his astonishment and apprehension at the deed. Piquet, as
yet, was a stripling, while de Valdre stood a stalwart man. But a far
other source of perturbation existed in the mind of the youth : his horses
were not sufficiently caparisoned ; he himself was destitute of the requi-
site armour ; and the slender allowance of the French King could provide
for neither. In these circumstances, by the advice of one Bellabre, an
associate, he had recourse to the fat abbot, or rich bishop, his uncle.
The brace set out on a tour, and after some little difficulty cajoled the gen-
tleman at the abbacy. They returned home with a hundred crowns, to
purchase the horses, and, what they valued more, an order on a merchant
at Lyons, to furnish whatever else might be required. The holy man
neglected to specify or hint the amount ; and, observing this, the two
hurried on to the city, with a view to profit by the inadvertency before it

540 THE ROMANTIC HEEOES OF HISTORY.

should be recollected by the worthy father. It will detract, we fear, from
the future knight's reputation, to add, that he considerably surpassed the
abbot's expectations, and ran up a bill to the amount of eight hundred
crowns ere a messenger arrived, panting, from the abbey, restricting him
to a hundred and twenty — a march (stolen) which the ecclesiastical digni-
tary never forgave, though Piquet brought great honour on the family,
by the manner%in which he distinguished himself in the ensuing combat,
where De Valdre exhibited all due courtesy and forbearance.

The chronicler, who narrates this feat, applauds Piquet's dexterity, in
overreaching the bishop ; but it may be questioned whether it entitled
him to the designation of sans reproche, though it is an operation which
has frequently been performed, both before and since. Picquet, on the
fruits, set out for Aire in Picardy, where he announced a grand tourney,
in the name of " Pierre de Bayard, gentleman and apprentice in arms."
The King of France had previously presented him with a caparisoned
horse, and three hundred crowns on taking leave, counselling him to be
brave to men, and to ladies, generous. " Generous," indeed, Bayard
appears to have been to both ; for the greatest part of the bishop's guer-
don was already gone, and he invariably distributed his acquisitions as
largeses amongst his attendants and adherents in arms, though in what
way he obtained them is not distinctly known ; they appear, however, to
have been considerable.

Six-and-forty adventurers here presented themselves to contend for his
prizes, conspicuous amongst whom were Bellabre, and one David, a Scot.
" Fair ladies " were also there, and highly extolled the courtesy of the
bidding knight : but he was quickly summoned from this mimic warfare
to a sterner scene ;~ the Lord of Ligny, to whose banner he was attached,
having been sent to threaten Rome with five hundred lances, and two
thousand Swiss, when Charles projected his ill-fated incursion to Italy.
Here he soon learned how different are the customs of war from the
maxims of chivalry ; his commander, a cousin of Charles, having de-
tained rigidly, as prisoners, four hundred men, who had surrendered on
condition of receiving a safe conduct to another place. The plea for this
infraction was, that although the agreement had been signed by the king,
it wanted the countersign of his secretary ; and with this subterfuge, the
Italians were forced to remain contented. It inflamed their resentment,
however, at the battle of Taro, which followed ; and in this sanguinary
action Bayard greatly distinguished himself, having had two horses shot
under him in the course of the day. He captured one of the enemy's
standards in the subsequent pursuit ; and for his conduct on the occasion,
received from Charles a present of five hundred crowns — the somewhat
chivalrous coin with which it was customary in those days to reward
valour. Five hundred Italians, and scarcely as many hundred French,
fell in the course of this memorable day, which was long held remarkable
as the first of the Italian mediaeval contests in which blood to any extent
had been shed ; the conflicts previous to this period having rather been
the formal and comparatively innocuous array of squadron against squad-
ron in the field than the sanguinary melee of battle. An Italian engage-
ment, previously, had, in fact, rather resembled a tournament ; and the
recollection of this action was consequently impressed so vividly upon
their memory, that the progress of Charles for some time remained unim-
peded. The folly of the popes contributed to the easy success of the

THE ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY. 541

invaders ; a contemporary writer remarking, — that among* t five of them
there was not one who possessed common sense. But a new pontiff suc-
ceeded— Alexander the Sixth, who, though restless, rapacious, and pro-
fligate, was a man of action as well as ambition. In martial affairs, he
acted with energy and promptness ; and though such spirit may
seem incongruous in a priest, it had the result of causing Charles the
Bold to lose his advantages in Italy, almost as rapidly as^he had acquired
them.

The French king spent the remainder of his life in the primitive duty
of wandering up and down his dominions, dispensing justice to his sub-
jects ; but Louis the Twelfth, his successor, renewed the Italian inroads ;
and Bayard, who had been left in garrison in Lombardy, was consequently
again called into action. In the interval he had held a tournay in honour
of the Lady Blanche, widow of his first master; and also, it is said, of
another lady, the Signora de Fluxas, who had in early life gained his
affections, but subsequently bestowed her own upon another knight, when
Bayard became less intent on love than war. From such amusements,
however, he was summoned away by sterner realities. Sforza had
rushed into the Duchy of Milan at the head of an irresistible German
force ; and Bayard having alone followed a body of his horse into Binasco
with more courage than prudence, was captured before Sforza's head-
quarters. The knight is extolled by a chronicler for having satisfactorily
•" hewn at heads and limbs " before the unlucky reverse ; and his prowess
only secured him more distinction at the hands of his foe. Having
told the captor that there were fourteen or fifteen thousand men at arms,
and a still greater number of plebeian foot ready to dispute for the prize
of Lombardy, and lamented his own inability to take part in the expected
encounter, Sforza generously liberated him with his horse and arms ; and
the knight ever afterwards professed his devotion, lamenting that the in-
troduction of fire-arms, and the employment, of mercenaries, were likely to
put an end to such courtesies, " as chivalry could no longer be ex-
pected when men barbarously fought on foot, and the principal strength
of an army was to consist of a mercenary rabble." Yet the knights
themselves, in this respect, were anything but pure, as they almost
invariably gave their own services for "guerison," and cared little
whether the cause in which they fought was right or wrong, provided
they had their spoils or money. A circumstance which shortly after-
wards occurred increased Bayard's repugnance to foot. Having him-
self captured Sotomayor, a Spanish knight, and relative of the cele-
brated Captain Gonzalo de Cordova, either he or his adherents by no
means exhibited the generous courtesy he lately experienced, and the
Spaniard was roughly handled for attempting to escape without ransom ;
that on paying his thousand crowns he also sent a challenge to Bayard
to fight him on foot. Bayard at this period was suffering from ague,
and a knowledge of his illness is supposed to have prompted the
peculiar choice of the other, who is loudly arraigned by a troubadour
of Bayard's, though he seems to have had most cause to complain, as
he was killed by a thrust in the throat at the first attack, A combat of
thirteen followed, and such was the violence of the Spaniards, that
eleven of the French horses were overthrown on the first encounter.
Bayard and another French knight alone remained uninjured, and as
these maintained the field throughout the day against their opponents,

542 THJB ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY.

they were in honour deemed the victors. Their companions having"
been driven beyond the lists, were pronounced liors de combat — a desig-
nation which in our day has received a different interpretation. They
fell not, however, to the lot of their opponents, and hence no gain
resulted from the conflict — a circumstance of considerable importance
at that period, when warriors depended chiefly for subsistence on the
ransom of their prisoners, and could not afford to contend solely for
the ephemera of glory. Bayard, however, seems more free from reproach
in this respect than most of his contemporaries ; and one source of his
popularity with his followers was, that he invariably divided the greater
part, if not the whole, of the "guerison" amongst them. His "faith-
ful servitera,"" who records this, indeed informs us that he distributed
the whole ; but as the knight, if he freely gave, seems as freely to have
received, and maintained an expensive establishment without what, in
modern phraseology, would be termed any " visible means of support,"
it may be inferred that the " servitor" is inclined to magnify the munifi-
cence of his master. Yet Bayard, amidst all his generosity, sometimes
indulged in what would be considered something like highway robbery in
our degenerate times. On one occasion, especially, he kidnapped a banker,
or money-changer, en route to join Gonzalo de Cordova, and succeeded in
appropriating the whole booty, fifteen thousand ducats, to himself, be-
cause another captain, who joined him in the enterprise, chanced to have
taken up his position on another road from that the money-changer
passed. With liberality, however, which seems no more than just, Bayard
presented him with half the amount, after the other knights had decided
that he was entitled to no part ; though it does not raise the gentleman
or his class much in our estimation, when it is added, that " he got down
on his knees " (says the " faithful servitor") to Bayard, " and, with tears
in his eyes, exclaimed, ' My master, and my friend, what return can I
make ? ' " And the joy of the chronicler is at its height when he adds, that
" the good knight, with heart as pure as pearl," bestowed the remainder
on his adherents.

From these private enterprises he was summoned by Louis to attend
him in the relief of Genoa, and though still suffering from ague as well as
a wound in the arm, Bayard deemed it his duty to attend, and greatly
distinguished himself in the campaign that followed. Infantry being now
the chief force, he commanded a thousand foot on the occasion, and they
must have been of a most interesting order ; a contemporary bard describing
,/ them as " gentle as cats, humane as leopards, honest as millers, with
fingers adhesive as glue, and innocent as Judas Iscariot." Such a graphic
and comprehensive description has been surpassed by no professor of Bil-
lingsgate in our times ; and it was, perhaps, some other feeling than
modesty which induced Bayard to supplicate the king would entrust him
with .only half the number. The virtues of "those good old times " are
in fact overrated. No modern annals exhibit wretches capable of vying
with those miscreants, whether French or English. In the time of Ed-
ward the Third, the English at Beauvois, in France, regularly cast their
unransomed prisoners into a burning pit, which they named L'Enfer ; and
the Duke de Bourbon, with excusable resentment, threw the monsters
into it when captured in turn. In Bayard's era they were but little im-
proved, and great part of his reputation is due to the circumstance, that
he, on all occasions, shewed a spirit superior to cruelty. He was next

THE ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY. 543

employed in the siege of Padua — on this occasion, on foot, with but thirty
gend'armes under him, yet each of these, says his chronicler, " worthy of
being captain over a hundred ; " and great was the service they were said
to have rendered, though such a force would appear to have been incon-
siderable amongst the fourteen thousand infantry, six hundred gend'armes,
seven hundred Albanians, and five hundred horsemen armed with cross-
bows, when the Venetians assembled to defend the city, and the thirty-two
thousand foot which, with a thousand cavalry, the King of France and
his allies collected to assail it. It was, however, more on the artillery
than any other arm that belligerents in such operations began now to
rely ; although this, to us, would not seem to have been a formidable im-
plement, when it is added, that the principal part of the " park " con-
sisted of " six large brass bombards charged with stone bullets so large
that they could be fired only four times a day at the very utmost." But
there were six hundred pieces of ordnance on wheels, " the least whereof
was a falcon ; " and the Emperor Maximilian, who conducted the opera-
tions, was a man of" wonderful diligence — in vincible in mind, and of a body
hardened by pain and travels — who got up betimes, and made his army
march forthwith, nor would he pitch his tent till two or three hours past
noon," a discipline exceedingly disagreable to " men at arms with their
armour on."

The means of defence, however, were commensurate. The city was
strongly palisadoed , and, the pay of the republic being liberal, the
peasants from all the neighbouring districts assembled for its protection.
Behind their " rampiers, where they could not be stricken by the bat-
teries of the enemy, these villains," says Guiciardini, " fought bravely ;
and before they could even be approached, four barricades were to be
carried, the duty of forcing which was entrusted to the Chevalier de
Bayard. The first, he carried after a smart attack ; the second was
defended still more vigorously ; but on its loss, the defenders at once
gave up the third, and retreated to make their grand stand on the last."
The assault of this, by the old chronicler is described in terms exceedingly
animated. A thousand or twelve hundred men defended it for about an
hour with falcons, pikes, and arquebusses ; but at last " the good knight,
growing impatient, said to his companions, * Sirs, these people detain us
too long ; let us alight and press forward to the barrier ; ' and though
this was reckoned a very undignified way for gentlemen to fight, "thirty
or forty gend'armes immediately dismounted, and, raising their visors and
couching their lances, pushed on to the barricade." A German prince,
Von Anhalt, was amongst the number, and a worthy named '* Great
John of Picardy," also contributed the weight of his arm ; " but the de-
fendants were continually reinforced by fresh men from the city ; and
Bayard, seeing this, exclaimed, * They will keep us here six years at this
rate ; sound trumpet, and everyone follow me,' " when, adds the chronicler,
he rushed on so " like a lion robbed of his whelps, that the Venetians
retired a pike's length from the barricado. 'On, comrades !' he cried,
' they are oars ; ' and leaping the barricade, he was gallantly followed, and
not less perilously received ; but the sight of his danger excited the
French, and he was speedily supported in such strength, that he remained
master of the ground."

" Thus," adds the faithful servitor, " were the barricades of Padua lost
find won, whereby the French horse, as well as foot, acquired great

544 THE ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY.

honour, above all, the good Knight, to whom the glory was universally
ascribed." But the success was useless : " A ditch sixteen fathom broad
and as many in depth" was behind the barrier ; and the assailants finding
this obstacle insuperable, raised the siege. A breach was, indeed, made
" a quarter of a mile in width ; " yet, as this could only be approached
on foot, the German barons considered it undignified so to fight, and the
emperor, after eyeing it wistfully three days, was consequently obliged to
retire ; the French nobles, by Bayard's advice, refusing to advance to the
assault, unless accompanied by the others.

With a generosity uncommon in those days, Bayard, before quitting,
stationed a party of gend'armes in the house to which he had forced an
entrance, in the outposts, to protect the inmates from violence ; and he
refused to accept of any ransom, though they were his by the laws of
war. In this respect Bayard utterly belied his own beau ideal of a
knight who, he used to say, " ought to possess the attack of a bull-dog,
the defence of a wild bear, and the pursuit of a wolf." So far from
following up with the ferocity of a wolf, he was, indeed, remarkable for
his clemency to the vanquished ; unless they were arquebussiers, when
he put them to death without mercy. But this was but in accordance
with the custom of the time, the arquebuss being a weapon then held in
such abhorrence, that, says De Tremoille, " Christians ought not to use
it in their wars against each other, but only against infidels ; " it being
classed in the same category with " villainous saltpetre," which rendered
the " prowess of knights of no avail, and required more courage for a
soldier than in the days of Alexander."

Bayard, however, we learn from the same authority, patronized spies :
" he never grudged his money if he could learn what the enemy was
doing ;" and one time he had laid his schemes so well, in consequence
of the information he received, as nearly to have captured the Pope
himself ; the Holy Father escaping only by leaping from his litter and
pulling up the draw-bridge of St. Felice with his own sacred hands.
For pontiffs, indeed, he seems to have entertained no high opinion, and
the conduct of one of them, Julius, who by means of an envoy proposed
secretly to enter into treaty with the Germans and cut off the French,
certainly was not calculated to raise him in any one's estimation. But
Bayard, though he crossed himself in horror at the Holy Father's
wickedness, refused to acquiesce in a project for poisoning him, which
the envoy, when his overture was rejected, proposed in turn. Our
Knight, on the contrary, vowed that if the project were not immediately
abandoned, he would himself, before night-fall, apprise the Pope ; and
this saved his Holiness from the attempt. In the siege of Brescia, which
followed, he especially distinguished himself; having been the first of a
hundred and fifty gentlemen who volunteered to expose themselves to
what was then considered the terrible arquebussiers, though it was
from one of the old pikes that he received a wound which he supposed
to be mortal. He was, in consequence, removed from the field to be
confessed and shriven, and to his absence, perhaps, is to be attributed
the barbarous sacking of the city for seven days that ensued. An
astrologer about this period foretold, that if Bayard escaped his present
danger, he should, within twelve years, fall by artillery ; and this possibly
may account for the knight's conduct in his next action, when he pro-
posed to the Spaniards that no guns should be discharged on either side —

THE ROMANTIC HEROES OF HISTORY. . 545

an overture which, in the present day, may not be considered to redound
much to his honour.

But much is to be attributed to the superstition of the period ; and
his death occurred almost exactly as predicted ; yet the prediction \vas
very safe and exceedingly likely to be realized, inasmuch as he was
constantly in action, and the armour then worn by knights protected
them from every other weapon but that propelled by " villainous salt-
petre." It was at the battle of Ravenna he received his death-wound. The
French had been victors on that occasion, but the accumulation of fresh
forces around them rendered retreat necessary, and it was while in the
post of honour in such moments — the rear — that Bayard had his spine
broken by a stone discharged from an arquebuss. He instantly knew
the wound to be mortal, and exclaiming, " Jesus, I am slain !" requested
to be disentangled from his horse and placed beneath a tree. As the
enemy was fast coming up, a Swiss captain proposed to carry him off
upon pikes ; but Bayard replied that he would die, as he had always desired ,
in the field ; and intreated them to save themselves by moving on,
as assistance to him was unavailing. His sword, by his directions, was
placed before him as a cross, and there being no priest at hand, he was
in the act of confessing to his steward when the Spaniards arrived. So
soon as his name and condition were known, he was treated with the
greatest distinction ; the Marquis of Pescara, in command of the enemy,
causing a tent to be spread for him, and offering half his fortune to any
one who could save the wounded knight. But such proffers were idle,
and Bayard was soon beyond all human aid. In the midst of a splendid
eulogium from his enemy, who declared that no king was half so cele-
brated, he expired as he had wished, on the field of battle.

The Spaniards paid every honour to his remains, and posterity have
confirmed the estimation in which contemporaries held him. According
to our present opinion, he may not have been what we deem a perfect
soldier ; to the character of a general he had no pretensions ; and as a
knight our own Sir Philip Sidney and the Black Prince perhaps surpass
him. But a man is to be judged by the era in which he lives ; and
when the rapine, barbarity, and coarseness of the fifteenth century are
remembered, there is no disputing that the punctiliousness, clemency, and
lofty spirit of Bayard entitle him to be considered one of the most perfect
characters of his age, and that he would have been distinguished in any.
As a leader he cannot be classed with Turenne or Villars ; and Lannes,
Ney, and Murat throw him as a sabreur into shade : with Marlborough,
Wellington, and the great captains of recent times, he is not even to be
named ; but yet it is doubtful whether any of them have had such an
important effect in softening the asperities of war, and promoting the
civilization of their countrymen.

546

THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND.

Castle, co. Ct

" There 's music in the rivulet, low whispering through the glade,
On which the wild flower doatingly reclines its modest head,
As though enamoured of its strain, though changeless still it flows,
Like virgins' hearts when gladdened by love's oft-repeated vows."

THIS singularly picturesque dwelling is hid from the vulgar gaze of
the world by a majestic range of mountains, forming part of the chain of
Galtees, or White Mountains, connecting the counties of Limerick and
Cork with Tipperary. These wild and Alpine solitudes constitute a
portion of the immense possessions which devolved on the house of
Kingston by the marriage of Sir John King, Baron Kingston, with
Catherine, daughter of Sir William Fenton, and his wife, Margaret Fitz-
gerald, sole heiress and descendant of Edmund Fitzgibbon, the White
Knight.

In the vicinity of the mountain castle is the glen of Aherlow, whence
Spenser celebrates this portion of the Galtee Mountains under the name
of ArloHill.

As a mere residence the house is not worth speaking of, particularly
when we remember the baronial splendour of Mitchelstown Castle, the
Earl's princely seat, already described in No. XIII., May, 1847. The
rooms are small in Galtee Castle, but they are comfortable, and well
fitted up. But all idea of internal arrangement is put aside when gazing
on the loveliness of the region in which this aerial dwelling is placed.
The castle crowns the summit of a gentle hill — smooth, and presenting a
verdant bosom, which terminates, at the culminating point, in a level
spot, affording space for the building, which, seen at a little distance,
with its octagon towers and broad roofs, would remind one of a Chinese
temple. The base of the hill descends abruptly into a deep gorge or
ravine. The hills on either side soar loftily up to greet the skies, and
great black woods clothe the silent sides. At all times there is a so-
lemn stillness about the place ; 'but in the evening, and when night hovers
around, a sensation of awe is produced, and the effect of moonlight upon
the woods and the castled steep, and the tall, broad, Titanic mountains,
recalls the memory of some of Spenser's castles, so gorgeously described
in the " Faerie Queene." There is a lonely mountain stream, too,
which comes tumbling down the hills with the flow of a cataract, and
plunges along the dell — now leaping over ledges of rock, now dimpling
into deep pools, clear as crystal. Trees wave over its surface, and adorn
the banks. This stream, called the Brackbawn, is allegorically described

GALTEE CASTLE. 547

as the Nymph Molanna, in the " Faerie Queene," canto vi. ; and, as the
verses will probably give interest to the place, we extract them for the
reader : —

Whylome when Ireland florished in fame

Of wealth and goodness, far above the rest
Of all that bear the British Islands' name,

The gods then used, for pleasure and for rest,
Oft to resort thereto, when seem'd them best ;

But none of all therein were pleasure found.
Then Cynthia, that is soveraiue queene profest

Of woods and forrests, which therein abound,
Sprinkled with wholsom waters more than mist on ground.

But 'mongst them all, as fittest for her game

(Either for chace of beast with hound or bowe,
Or for to shroude in shade from Phoebus' flame,

Or bathe in fountains that doe freshly flowe
Or from high hilles, or from the dales belowe),

She chose this Arlo ;* where she did resort
With all her nymphes enranged on a rowe,

With whom the woody gods did oft consort,
For with the nymphes the satyres love to play and sport.

The poet then introduces one of the nymphs, " hight Molanna," now
the Brackbawn, a rocky stream that runs through the glen of the moun-
tain castle. This was the favourite bathing-place of the goddess, and is
thus described : —

For first she springs out of two marble rocks,

On which a grove of oakes high-mounted growes,
That as a girlond seemes to deck the locks

Of some faire bride, brought forth with pompous showes
Out of her bowre, that many flowers strowes ;

So through the flow'ry dales she tumbling downe
Through many woods and shady coverts flowes,

That on each side her silver channell crowne,
Till to the plain she come, whose valleys shee doth drowne.

In her sweet streams Diana used oft,

After her sweatie chace and toilsome play,
To bathe herselfe ; and, after, on the soft

And downy grasse her dainty limbes to lay
In covert shade, where none behold her may,

For much she hated sight of living eye ;
Foolish god Faunus, though full many a day

He saw her clad, yet longed foolishly
To see her naked 'mongst her nymphes in privity.

No way he found to compass his desire,

But to corrupt Molanna, this her maid,
Her to discover for some secret hire ;

So her with flattering words he first assaid,
And, after pleasing gifts for her purvaid,

Queene-apples, and red cherries from the tree,

* Arlo, the highest peak of the Galtee mountains, is over the glen of Ahirlo,
whence, doubtless, the park took this name.

548 GALTEE CASTLE.

With which he her allured and betraid

To tell what time he might her lady see,
When she herself did bathe, that he might secret bee.

Thereto hee promist, if she would him pleasure

With this small boon, to quit her with a better ;
To wit, that whereas shee had out of measure

Long lov'd the Fauchir*,* who by nought did set her,
That he would undertake for this to get her

To be his love, and of him liked well :
Besides all which he vowed to be her debtor

For many moe good turns than he could tell —
The least of which this little pleasure should excell.

The simple maid did yield to him anone,

And eft him placed where he closed might view
That never any saw, save only one,

Who, for his hire to so foolhardy dew,
Was of his hounds devoured in hunter's hue.

Though, as her manner was on sunny day,
Diana, with her nymphs about her, drew

To this sweet spring ; where, doffing her array,
She bathed her lovely limbes.

Foolish Faunus not being able to keep quiet, broke forth in laughter.

The goddesse, all abashed with that noise,

In haste forth started from the guilty brooke ;
And, running straight whereas she heard his voice,

Enclos'd in bush about, and there him tooke
Like darred larke, not daring up to looke

On her whose sight before so much he sought.
Thenceforth they drew him by the homes, and shooke

Nigh all to pieces, that they left him nought ;
And then into the open light they forth him brought.

The goddess Diana and her maydens all ill used poor Faunus :

They mocke and scorne him, and him foul miscall ;

Some by the nose him pluck' t, some by the taile,

And by his goatish beard some did him haile ;
Yet he (poore soule !) with patience all did beare,

For nought against their wils might countervaile.

So, having flouted him their fill, and determined on robing him in a
deer skin, and hunting him, " Cynthia's selfe, more angry than the rest,"
examined him, until he confessed " that 'twas Molanna which her so
beuraid."

So they him follow'd till they weary were ;

When, back returning to Molann' againe,
They, by commandment of Diana, there

Her whelm'd with stones : Yet Faunus, for her paine,
Of her beloved Fauchin did obtaine,

That her he would receive into his bed.
So now her waves passe through a pleasant plaine,

Till with the Fauchin she herselfe doe wed,
And, both combin'd, themselves in one faire river spred.

* Funcheon, a neighbouring river, with which the Brackbawn unites,

MOORE PARK. 549

The description of the source of the mountain rivulet springing from
the rocks is very beautiful. In the vicinity of the mountain castle
are the wonderful Mitchelstown Caves, well worthy the visit of the
tourist.

;Parfc, to. Cork,

THE SEAT Or THE EARL OF MOUNT CASHEL.

" Dark woods of Puncheon ! treading far

The rugged paths of duty,
Though lost to me the vesper star,
Now trembling o'er your beauty,
Still vividly I see your glades,

The deep and emerald-hearted,
As when from their luxuriant shades
My lingering steps departed."

B. SIMMONS.

ON entering the massive gateway opening on the Moore Park demesne,
the first objects that attract the sight of the lovers of scenery, are the
clumps of majestic trees dotting the surface of lawn and lee. There they
stand, in every variety of landscape beauty. Now in groups covering
many a fair rood of ground — again in single files, like the advance sen-
tinels of a vast army. The carriage-drive conducts the visitor to, we
think, the worse side of the house, for the southern aspect is incomparablv
superior to the principal front, which faces the north ; and, in point of
view, the latter bears no comparison at all. However, we are in the
house : the hall is a large lofty one, and the dining-room is spacious.
The drawing-rooms are tasteful and painted in medallion, which have a
very elegant effect. In the house is a fine collection of paintings — seve-
ral undoubted works of the great masters of art. From the hill, near the
back entrance, a fine view is obtained of the south side of the house, with
the portions lately added, and the richly wooded hills sloping to the Fun-
cheon river, rolling through the demesne. This prospect also embraces
a very striking feature in the scene — a tall tower, commandingly placed
on the summit of a lofty rock, rising to a great height over the river.
This is Cloghleagh Castle ; so called from the grey stone employed in its
erection. Its tale of war is inscribed in the crimson page of history, and
more than once has the flag of defiance floated from its embattled para-
pets. This was the chief seat of the Condons, a powerful race who gave
a name in conjunction with the clan Gibbons, to one of the largest baro-
nies in the county Cork, called the barony of Condons and Clangibbons.
Patrick Condon, of Cloghleagh, Esq., was found by inquisition to have
been concerned in the Earl of Desmond's rebellion, and his castle and
manor were forfeited to the crown. They were granted by letters patent,
dated 3d September, 29th Elizabeth, to Thomas Fleetwood, and Manna-
duke Redmayn. The castle remained in their hands until the rebellion of
1642, whom Borlace relates, " The Lord Barrymore took Cloghleagh
Castle, on the Puncheon, near Kil worth, which was the inheritance of
Sir Richard Fleetwood, who admitted Sir Arthur Hyde to keep it ; but
Condon, whose ancestors it had belonged to, took it from him by sur-

550 MOORE PARK.

prise." It appears this castle was again taken by Condon, for an in-
stance of the atrocities of war is related by Dr. Smith.* Richard Con-
don having promised quarter and safe convoy to the garrison if they sur-
rendered to him, they did so, and for their credulous faith every one was
either murdered, wounded, or kept prisoner. Perhaps that was the sur-
prise referred to. There is no doubt, however, the castle was in Condon's
possession on the 3d June, 1643 ; for Borlace mentions that Sir Charles
Vavasor marched towards Condon's country, and took the Castle of
Cloghleagh on the 3d June, 1643, after an obstinate defence of Condon
the governor. In this castle were about twenty men, eleven women, and
seven children ; some of which the soldiers stripped in order to kill them,
but were prevented by Major Howell, who went to Colonel Vavasor, then
at Ballyhendon, Mr. Roche's house, where he had dined that day, and
committed them to the care of Captain Wind, who leaving them to a
guard of horse, they stripped them again, and fell on them with carbines,
pistols, and swords ; a cruelty so resented by Sir Charles, that he vowed
to hang those that commanded the guard, and had certainly done it had
not the next day's action prevented him, which proved to be the most
considerable loss the English had yet received.

As this lamentable action took place in this immediate neighbourhood,
we subjoin an account of the engagement given in the History of Cork.-f-
Ori the 4th of June, 1643, being Sunday, about daybreak, Mr. Hill, with
a squadron of horse, was sent to scour near Cloghine and Castle-Grace, in
the county of Tipperary. Before it was light, he found himself surrounded
by the enemy's horse, so that he and his men escaped with difficulty ;
and alarming the English at Cloghleagh they immediately ranged in bat-
talion, in two divisions, in a field near a mountain, on the side of which
the enemy soon appeared, about a mile and a half from the army. Sir
Charles Vavasor, who the night before lay at Castle Lyons, was sent for
in great haste ; but before he arrived, 200 musketeers commanded by
Captain Philip Hutton, and a troop led on by Captain Freke, advanced
towards the Irish about half a mile, and then halted for two hours ; in
the meantime, parties of horse, on both sides, approached each other with
trumpets sounding a charge. Christopher Brien, brother to the Earl of
Inchiquin, demanded a parley with Quartermaster Page, and after some
compliment and discourse they parted ; as did afterwards Captain Ri-
chard Fitzmaurice, brother to Lord Kerry, with Mr. Brien. Soon after,
notice was given that the enemy was advancing ; upon which, Sir Charles
Vavasor, who was now arrived, ordered the Captains Hutton and Freke
to retreat to the main body. About this time, Sir Charles received notice
by Captain Butler, that his company and Sir John Brown's were advanc-
ing from Mallow, and were now but a mile and a half from him. and at his
disposal. Sir Charles having consulted with his officers, concluded that
such a body of horse as appeared could not be without a great body of
foot, although they did not, as yet, come over the hill ; so that a retreat
was resolved upon, and the carriages were ordered to hasten to Fermoy
with the cannon to help to defend that pass, in case he should be hard
pressed ; whereupon the army halted to let them proceed, and then drew
off towards Castle Lyons ; the vanguard was led by Lieutenant King,
the main body by Major Hovel, the rear by Sir Charles himself; and be-

* Hist. Cork, vol. 2, p. 144. f Smith's Cork, vol. 2, p. 147.

MOORE PARK. 551

iiind them was a forlorn hope, commanded by Captain Pierce Lacy, Cap-
tain Hutton, and Lieutenant Stadbury, with the horse in their rear ; who
no sooner had passed the Funcheori and recovered the top of the hill, but
the enemy's horse were at their heels. From this hill to Fermoy, there
was a narrow defile, well known to both parties ; as soon as the enemy
perceived the English to march through this lane (except the forlorn hope
and the horse) they charged them in the rear, and so pressed on the horse,
being only 120, that they were forced to fall into the lane among the foot,
and put them to the rout. The ordnance was not yet passed the Black -
water, nor the two companies arrived there to defend the passage, so that
the English lost all their colours except one pair saved by the gallant be-
haviour of Dermot O'Grady, ensign to Captain Rowland St. Leger, as
also two pieces of cannon. Sir Charles Vavasor, the Captains Wind and
Fitzmaurice, Lieutenant King, Ensign Chaplain, and several others, were
made prisoners. Captain Pierce Lacy, and Captain George Butler, the
Lieutenants Walter St. Leger, Stradbury, Blessington, and Kent, Ensign
Simmons, and several other brave officers, fell in this engagement, and
300 soldiers. The Earl of Castlehaven, who commanded the Irish, gave
out that he had slain 690. Thenceforward the walls of Cloghleagh make
no figure in the turbulent history- of Irish wars. It now constitutes a
striking feature in the scenery of Moore Park. The river rolls rapidly
over the wide-spread meads, where, on the said day recorded in our his-
tory, the contending armies waged cruel war. No drum beat to arms as
we rode along ; no fierce encounter of angry men denoted the strife of
foes. The river sent forth a gurgling gushing sound as it hurried on in
its flow, and the breeze whistling round the castled steep, stirred the un-
derwood that grew adown the side of the hill. The spot appeared conse-
crated to peace, and were it not for our acquaintance with the fact, we
should not have supposed that the trumpet of war ever roused the startled
echoes of this secluded glen.

The family of Moore, Earls of Mountcashel, settled in Ireland in the
reign of King James I. The original branch of the family still reside at
their ancient seat, Barn, in the county of Tipperary. The first elevated
to the peerage was the great grandfather of the present peer, who, A. i>.
1764, was created Baron Kilworth of Moore Park, in the county of Cork,
and further ennobled in 1766, by 'the title of Viscount Mountcashel of
Mountcashel, in the county Tipperary. He did not long wear his honours,

• dying in the last-named year, when he was succeeded by his eldest son,
advanced in 1781 to the earldom of Mountcashel. His son — father of
the present representative of the family — succeeded to the title in 1 790,
and married a daughter of the Earl of Kingston, by whom he had issue.
The eldest son was born in 1792, and succeeded his father in 1822. He
married in Switzerland in 1819, and has a numerous family. Lord Kil-
worth, the heir apparent, was born in 1825. The Right Honourable
Richard Moore, Attorney -general for Ireland, is of the branch resident

at Barn.

VOL. TV., NO. XX. R K

£52

LATHOM HOUS1C.

latyotn $ou$f, co. &anra*tcr.

w 'Twas here they raised, 'mid sap and siege,
The banners of their rightful liege

At their she-captain's call,
Who, miracle of womankind,
Lent mettle to the meanest hind

That mann'd her castle wall."

THK township and chapelry of Lathom belonged at the survey to Orm,
a Saxon, from whom the parish of Ormskirk derived its name. His
descendant, Robert Fitz-Henry, of Lathom, founded the Priory of
Burscough, temp. Richard I., and may be regarded as " the Rodolph"
of the illustrious race of Lathom, whose ancient manor we are about
describing. Robert's grandson, Sir Robert de Lathom, greatly augmented
his inheritance by his marriage with Amicia, sister and co-heir Thomas,
Lord of Alfreton and Norton ; and his son and successor, a knight like his
father, still further added to his patrimony by winning the rich heiress of Sir
Thomas de Knowsley, who brought him the fair lordship which to this day
continues to be the princely residence of her descendants, the Earls of Derby.
The eventual heiress of the Lathoms, Isabella, dau. of Sir Thomas de
Lathom, married SIB JOHN STANLEY, and henceforward, for several hun-
dred years, and during the period of its chief historic distinction, Lathom
House was held by the Stanleys. Sir John Stanley, who thus acquired
the hand and inheritance of tlie heiress of Lathom, became lord-deputy of
Ireland, and received a grant of the manor of Blake Castle, in that king-
dom. In 1405, he had a commission in conjunction with Roger Leke, to
seize on the city of York and its liberties, and also upon the ISLE OF MAN,
on the forfeiture of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland ; and in the
7th HENRY IV., being then treasurer of the household to the king, ob-
tained licence to fortify a house at Liverpool (which he had newly built)
with embattled walls. In the same year, having taken possession of the
Isle of Man, he obtained a grant in fee of the said isle, castle, and pile,
anciently called Holm Town, and all the isles adjacent, as also all the
regalities, franchises, &c., to be holden of the said king, his heirs, and
successors, by homage, and the service of two falcons, payable on the days
of their coronation. On the accession of HENRY V., he was made a knight
of the Garter, and constituted Lord Lieutenant of Ireland for six years, in
which government he died, 6th. Jan., 1414. The grandson of this famous
knight, Sir Thomas Stanley, also Chief Governor of Ireland, and Cham-
berlain to Henry VI., was summoned to parliament as Lord Stanley, in
1456. He married Joan de Goushill, a lineal descendant of King Edward
I., and had four sons ; the eldest, Thomas, second Lord Stanley, and first
Earl of Derby, so celebrated for his participation in the victory of Bosworth
Field, and the second Sir William Stanley, of Holt, the richest subject of his
time, who was beheaded for his adherence to Perkin Warbeck. The Earls
of Derby continued to possess the mansion of Lathom, and to reside there
in such magnificence and liberality, that Camden says " With them, the
glory of hospitality seemed to fall asleep," until the death of William
Richard George, ninth Earl, whose daughter and co-heir Henrietta, Lady
Ashburnham, sold it to Henry Furness, Esq., from whom it was purchased

LATHOM HOUSE. 553

in 1724, by Sir Thomas Bootle, of Melling, Chancellor to Frederick, Prince
of Wales. He died without issue, having bequeathed his property to his
niece, Mary, only daughter and heir of his brother, Robert Bootle, Esq.,
and wife of Richard Wilbraham, Esq., of Rode, M.P. for Chester. By this
devise, the ancient and historic seat of Lathom vested in the Wilbrahams, and
is now possessed by Edward Bootle Wilbraham, Lord Skelmersdale, the son
and successor of the heiress of Bootle. His lordship's daughter is married to
Lord Stanley, and, thus the name of its former possessors has become again
associated with this ancient Manor House. While the Stanleys held it,
Lathom, for magnificence and hospitality, surpassed all the residences of
the North, assuming, in those respects, the attitude of a Royal Court, and
its possessors were regarded with such veneration and esteem, that the
following harmless inversion was familiar " as household words" — God
$ave the Earl of Derby and the King. At the period of its memorable
siege, Lathom was under the government of the famous Charlotte de la
Tremouille, Countess of Derby, whose husband had been commanded to
leave the realm, and was then in the Isle of Man. This heroic lady,
whose gallant daring in resisting the mighty power of the Parliament
stands brightly forth amid all the brilliant achievements of the Royalists,
was daughter of Claude, Due de Tremouille, and, by her mother, Charlotte
Brabanton de Nassau, was grand-daughter of William, Prince of Orange,
and of Charlotte de Bourbon, of the Royal House of France. Thus highly
born, and allied besides to the Kings of Spain and Naples, and the Dukes
of Anjou, Charlotte de la Tremouille did not sully the renown acquired by
so illustrious a descent. When the moment came for calling forth her ener-
gies and spirit, she rose equal to the occasion, and has left on the page
of history an almost unparalleled example of female heroism. After the
battle of Nantwich, the united forces of the Parliament under Sir Thomas
Fairfax, accompanied by the regiments of Cols.. Rigby, Egerton, Ashton,
and Holcroft, marched to Lathom House, where they arrived 28th Feb-
ruary. In the defence of this mansion, which the dangers of the times
had converted into a fortress, her ladyship had the assistance of Major
Farmer, and the Captains Farrington, Charnock, Chisenhali, Rawstorne,
Ogle, and Molyneux.

On his arrival before Lathom, Sir Thomas Fairfax obtained an
audience with the Countess, who had disposed her soldiers in such
array as to impress the Parliamentary general with a favourable
opinion of their numbers and discipline. The offer made by Sir Thomas
was, that on condition of her surrendering the house to the troops under
his command, herself, her children and servants, with their property, should
be safely conducted to Knowsley, there to remain, without molestation, in
the enjoyment of one half of the Earl's estates. To this alluring proposal
the Countess mildly but resolutely replied, that a double trust had been
confided to her — faith to her lord and allegiance to her sovereign, and
that without their permission she could not make the required surrender
in less than a month, nor then without their approbation. The impe-
tuous temper of the Parliamentary army could not brook this delay, and,
after a short consultation, it was determined to besiege the fortress,
rather than attempt to carry it by storm. At the end of fourteen days,
while the works were constructing, Sir Thomas Fairfax sent a renewed
summons to the Countess, but with no better success, the reply of the
Countess being, that she had not forgotten her duty to the Church of Eng-

E it 2

554 LATHOM HOUSE.

land, to her prince, ' and to her lord, and that she would defend her trust
with her honour and with her life.

Being ordered into Yorkshire, Sir Thomas confided the siege to Colonel
Peter Egerton and Major Morgan, who, despairing of success from nego-
tiation, proceeded to iorm their lines of circumvallation with all the form-
ality of German tactics The progress of the besiegers was continually
interrupted by sallies from the garrison, which beat the soldiers from their
trenches and destroyed their works. At the end of three months a deep
breach was cut n-ear the moat, on which was raised a stong battery, where
a mortar was planted for casting grenades. In one of these discharges,
the ball fell close to the table where the Countess and her children were
sitting, and broke part of the furniture to atoms. A gallant and success-
ful sally under Major Farmer and Captains Molyneux, Radcliff, and Chis-
enhall, destroyed these works, killed a number of the besieging army,
and captured the mortar. The Countess not only superintended the
works and commanded the operations, but frequently accompanied her
gallant troops to the margin of the enemy's trenches. The Parliament,
dissatisfied with all this delay, superseded Colonel Egerton, and confided
the command to Colonel Rigby. Fresh works were now erected, but
they shared the fate of the former ; and Colonel Rigby, on the approach
of Prince Rupert into Lancashire, was obliged to raise the siege at the
end of four months, and to seek shelter for himself and his army in
Bolton.

The capture of that town, which followed soon after, under the combined
operations of Prince Rupert and the Earl of Derby, yielded numerous
trophies to the victorious army ; and all these were presented to the
heroic defender of Lathom House, in testimony of the memorable
triumph achieved, under her command, by a gallant band of three hun-
dred soldiers, assailed, as they had been, by ten times their own number.
After the siege, the Countess of Derby retired with her children, under
the protection of the Earl, to the Isle of Man, leaving Lathom House to
the care of Colonel Rawstorne. In July, in the following year, the siege
was renewed by General Egerton, at the head of four thousand men, who
took up their head quarters at Ormskirk. The garrison made a gallant
and successful stand for some time, but, being at length reduced to ex-
tremities, for want of the munitions of war, and disappointed in the ex-
pectation of a reinforcement from the king, who was, in the month of
September in that year, at Chester, the commander was obliged to sur-
render his charge into the hands of the Parliamentary forces, upon bare
terms of mercy, on the 2nd of December. The besiegers soon converted
the most valuable effects of the house into booty ; the towers from whence
so many fatal shots had been fired were thrown down; the military
works were destroyed ; and the sun of Lathom seemed for ever to have
set.

Of the old House of Lathom, that stood so stout a siege, not a vestige
now rem uns. " The ramparts," says Mr. Heywood, " along whose banks
knights and ladies have a thousand times made resort, hearkening to
stories as varied as those of Boccaccio ; the Maudlin well, where the
pilgrim and the lazar devoutly cooled their parched lips ; the mewing
house ; the training ground ; every appendage to antique baronial state ;
all now are changed, and a modern mansion and a new possessor fill the
place.

LATHOM HOUSE. 5SD

Lathom House, as it now appears, is a magnificent edifice, rebuilt by
Sir Thomas Bootle, Knt., Chancellor to Frederick, Prince of Wales, and
is the seat of Lord Skelmersdale, the owner. The house stands on a
plain inclining towards the north, and commands an extensive view.
The south-front was begun by William IX., Earl of Derby, and was com-
pleted, in a manner not unworthy of its ancient fame, by Sir Thomas
Bootle, between 1724 and 1734. The house consists of a ground floor,
principal and attic, and has a rustic basement, with a double flight of
steps to the first story. The north-front extends 156 feet, with nine
windows on each floor, and the offices are joine'd to it by colonnades sup-
ported by Ionic pillars. The hall is forty feet square and thirty high.
The saloon is forty by twenty-four feet. The library fifty by twenty-
one ; and there are on this floor thirteen apartments. The house is
situated in the centre of a park between three and four miles in circum-
ference.

It may not be deemed irrelevant to mention here a tradition relative
to the visit of King Henry VIII. at Lathom, particularly as it does not
appear to be generally known.

Subsequently to the execution of Sir William Stanley, when the King
visited Lathom, the Earl, after his royal guest had viewed the whole
house, conducted him up to the leads for a prospect of the country. The
Earl's fool, who was among the company, observing the King draw near
to the edge, not guarded by a balustrade, stepped up to the Earl,
and pointing down to the precipice, said, " Tom, remember Will." The
King understood the meaning, and made all haste down-stairs and out of
the house ; and the fool, long after, seemed mightily concerned that his
lord had not had courage to take the opportunity of avenging himself for
the death of his brother.

The fabulous tradition of the " Eagle and Child," the crest of the
Stanleys, also associates itself with the family of Lathom, and is thus
gravely related : — Sir Thomas Lathom, the father of Isabel, having this
only child, and cherishing an ardent desire for a male heir, to inherit his
home and fortune, had an intrigue with a young gentlewoman, the
fruit of which was a son. The infant he contrived to have conveyed, by
a confidential servant, to the foot of a tree in his park, frequented by
an eagle ; and Sir Thomas with his lady, taking their usual walk, found
the infant as if by accident. The old lady, considering it a gift from
heaven, brought hither by the bird of prey, and miraculously preserved,
consented to adopt the boy as their heir —

" Their content was such, to see the hap,
That th' ancient lady hugs yt in her lap ;
Smoths yt with kisses, bathes yt in her tears,
And unto Lathom House the babe she bears."

The name of Oskatell was given to the little foundling — Mary Oskatell
being the name of his mother. From this time, the crest of the " Eagle
and Child " was assumed : but, as the old knight approached near the
grave, his conscience smote him, and on his death -bed he bequeathed the
principal part of his fortune to his daughter Isabel, who became the wife
of Sir John Stanley, as we have already shewn, leaving poor Oskatell,
on whom the King had conferred the honour of knighthood, only the

556 BOLTON ABBEY.

manors of Irlam and Urmston, near Manchester, and some possessions in
co. Chester, in which county he settled, and became the founder of the
family of Lathom, of Astbury.

33olton &&&*£, gorfcstfjtre.

" Now is there stillness in the vale,

And long un speaking sorrow ;
Wharfe shall be to the pitying heart
A name more sad than Yarrow."

WORDSWORTH'S Force of Prayer.

ON a green meadow, raised a little above the level of the river Wharfe,
which curves half round it, stand the ruins of Bolton Abbey. Its situ-
ation combines the conflicting characteristics of beauty and grandeur.
Opposite the eastern window of the church the river washes the foot of a
rock nearly perpendicular, the mineral veins of which display an infinite
variety of tints, forcibly reminding the tourist of the rich colouring of
some portions of the Allum Bay cliffs, in the Isle of Wight. To the
south, the eye reposes on the expanding mirror of the tranquil stream
with its luxuriant pastures. While to the north, interrupted by jutting
points of grey rock, appears an oak wood, through the bottom of which
the Wharfe rushes. Beyond rises Bolton Park, the fitting resort of the
stately red deer ; and still further, the barren heights of Simon-seat and
Barden-fell crown the prospect, and (suggesting the comparison of the
feudal grandeur of the past and the commercial prosperity of the present
age) proudly contrast themselves with the warmth and fertility of the
vale below.

At the time of the Norman conquest, Bolton formed a portion of the
vast estates of Earl Edwin, the son of Leofwine, Earl of Mercia. For
some years the Saxon owner was permitted to retain his lands : at length,
however, they were confiscated ; and the Skipton-fee, of which Bolton
then seems to have been the chief seat, was granted to Robert de
Romille, a Norman nobleman. Robert had an only child, Cicily, wife
of William de Meschines. They had two sons, Ranulph, and Matthew
who died young, and a daughter Alice, surnamed after her mother de
Romily. She, the heiress of her family, was married to William Fitz
Duncan, and had an only, son, William, called from one of the baronies
of his father's family the boy of Egremond. He died early, leaving two
sisters, one of whom carried the Skipton-fee to her husband, William le
Gross, Earl Albemarle, and transmitted them to her daughter, the wife of
William de Fortibus, who succeeded his father-in-law in the title of
Albemarle.

Cicily, the wife of William de Meschines, had been the foundress of a
Priory at Embsay, about four miles from Bolton, to which it was soon
afterwards removed. Tradition ascribes this migration to the maternal
piety of her daughter Alice, who was desirous to commemorate a fatal
accident said to have occurred, in the grounds of Bolton, to her only son,
the boy of Egremond, and to consecrate the sad neighbourhood, by the
erection of a sacred edifice, where prayers should ever be offered for the
soul so suddenly and prematurely removed. Yet this tradition is refuted
by Dr. Whitaker, who, referring to "Dugdale's Monasticon," alleges

BOLTON ABBEY. 557

that the youth, whose death is said to have occasioned the removal, is
himself a party and witness to the charter of translation.

The learned historian of the Deanery of Craven has, however, admitted
that there is little doubt that the story is true in the main : but considers
that it refers to one of the sons of Cicily, the first foundress, both
of whom have already been stated to have died in youth, instead of the
son of her daughter.

It is, perhaps, more fitting to permit Dr. Whitaker to narrate in
his own language the legend which he has investigated ; and he thus
proceeds : —

" In the deep solitude of the woods betwixt Bolton and Barden, the
Wharfe suddenly contracts itself to a rocky channel little more than four
feet wide, and pours through the tremendous fissure with a rapidity pro-
portioned to its confinement. This place was then, as it is yet, called
the Strid, from a feat often exercised by persons of more agility than
prudence, who stride from brink to brink, regardless of the destruction
which awaits a faltering step. Such, according to tradition, was the fate
of young Romille, who, inconsiderately bounding over the chasm with a
greyhound in a leach, the animal hung back and drew his unfortunate
master into the torrent. The forester who accompanied Romille, and
beheld his fate, returned to the lady Aaliza, and, with despair in his
countenance, inquired, ' What is good for a bootless Bene ? ' To which
the mother, apprehending that some great calamity had befallen her son,
instantly replied, * endless sorrow.'

" The language of this question, almost unintelligible at present,
proves the antiquity of the story. But * bootless bene,' is unavailing-
prayer ; and the meaning, though imperfectly expressed, seems to have
been, ' What remains when prayer is useless? '

" This misfortune is said to have occasioned the translation of the Priory
from Embsay to Bolton, which was the nearest eligible site to the place
where it happened. The lady was now in a proper situation of mind to
take any impression from her spiritual comforters ; but the views of the
two parties were different ; they spoke, no doubt, and she thought, of
the proximity to the scene of her son's death ; but it was for the fields
and woods of Bolton for which they secretly languished."

The same topics of consolation that were offered to the shade of the
drowned Palinurus, might have been afforded by a prophetic sybil to the
young heir of the house of Romille : —

" Sed cape dicta memor, duri solatia casus,
Et statuent tumulum, et tumulo soilemnia mittent,
Eternumque locus Palinuri nonien habebit."

And it might have been added that, many hundred years after his decease,
rival poets should sing their dirges over his tomb.

[ROGERS' POEM.] —

" * Say what remains when hope is fled ? '

She answered * Endless weeping !'
For in the herdsman's eye she read

Who in his shroud was sleeping.
At Enibsuy rang the matin bell,
The stag was roused in Bardcn-fell ;

558 BOLTON ABBEY.

The mingled sounds were swelling, dying,

A nd down the Wharfe a hern was flying ;

When near the cabin in the wood,

In tartan clad and forest green,

With hound in leash and hawk in hood,

The boy of Egremond was seen.

Blithe was his song, a song of yore,

But where the rock is rent in two,

And the river rushes through,

His voice was heard no more,

Twas but a step ! the gulph he passed ;

But that step — it was his last !

As through the mist he winged his way,

(A cloud that hovers night and day)

The hound hung back, and back he drew,

The master and his merlin too.

That narrow place of noise and strife,

Received their little all of life !

There now the matin bell is rung,

The ' miserere * duly sung ;

And holy men in cowl and hood

Are wandering up and down the wood.

But what avail they ? Ruthless lord,

Thou didst not shudder when the sword

Here on the young its fury spent,

The helpless and the innocent.*

Sit now and answer groan for groan ;

The child before thee is thine own.

And she who wildly wanders there,

The mother in her long despair,

Shall oft remind thee waking, sleeping,

Of those who by the Wharfe were weeping f

Of those, who would not be consoled,

When red with blood the river rolled.

[WOBDSWORTH, IN THE WHITE DoE OF RYLSTONE.J

When Lady Aaliza mourned

Her son, and felt, in her despair,

The pang of unavailing prayer ;

Her son in Wharfe's abysses drowned,

The Noble Boy of Egremound.

From which affliction, when God's grace

At length had in her heart found place,

A pious structure, fair to see,

Rose up this stately Priory,

The Lady's work.

* Fitz-Duncan, who, according to an inaccurate tradition, was the father of the
youth drowned in the Wharfe, was nephew to David King, of Scotland ; and in 1138,
when his uncle was at war with England, had penetrated as far as Craven, in York-
shire, at the head of an army of Picts. Dr. Whitaker, who wrote his history of
Craven, during the late French war, after giving a passage from a monkish writer, in
which we forget the slaughter of the male, in our indignation at the outrages of the
female captives, adds this sentence, which, in spite of some unjust prejudice, deserves
to be ever remembered for its glowing patriotism: — " I have translated this shocking
passage literally, and at length, that those of the same sex, who now adorn this
country, may be thankful to Providence for the security and happiness which an
excellent government has hitherto afforded them ; and that the other may, by a
faithful representation of the miseries of invasion and conquest, be stirred up to defend
them from an enemy no less barbarous and insulting, by whom they are threatened
at present."

BOLTON ABBEY 559

But it is time that we should proceed with the later history of Bolton,
which, as may be" recollected, was a portion of the honour and fee of
Skipton. In the reign of Edward I., the powerful family of De Fortibus
became extinct ; and in that of Edward II., their barony of Skipton was
given by the Crown to Robert de Clifford. The son and the father of a
race renowned in arms, — a family whose beauty had been illustrated by
the Rosamond of Woodstock bower, " the fair defect " of their pedigree —
De Clifford transmitted these estates to a long line of male descendants,
who in time acquired the earldom of Cumberland ; and, "after the lapse
of five hundred years, they are still held by his posterity by a female
branch.

In 1540, Richard Moone, then prior of Bolton, was compelled to sur-
render to the King the house of Augustine monks, over which he pre-
sided. Two years later, the lands of the priory, or (as it is more com-
monly called) abbey, were, purchased of Henry VIII. by Henry de Clif-
ford, first Earl of Cumberland. His descendant, the Lady Elizabeth
Clifford, the daughter and heiress of the last Earl of Cumberland, was born
in 1613, and became the wife of Richard Boyle, who inherited the title of
Earl of Cork, and was created Lord Clifford of Londsborough, and Earl
of Burlington. Their great grandson, Richard Boyle,* Earl of Cork
and Burlington, had a daughter and heiress, the Lady Caroline Boyle,
who was married to William Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire. Amongst
the many more dazzling claims to admiration of their grandson, William
Spencer Cavendish, sixth Duke of Devonshire, and present representa-
tive of the last Earl of Cumberland, the taste which is displayed in laying
out the walks through the grounds of Bolton Abbey, and the liberality
with which they are thrown open to the public should not be forgotten.

Before dismissing the subject of Bolton Abbey it should be remarked,
that the shell of this Gothic church is nearly entire ; and that the nave,
having been reserved at the dissolution as a parochial chapel, has been
restored from a state of dilapidation through the judicious interference of
the late worthy incumbent, the Rev. William Carr, the author of " The
Craven Glossary ;" a work in which what is now regarded as the exclu-
sive idiom of the peasants of Craven, is illustrated by numerous and
beautifully selected quotations from standard Scottish and early English
writers.

Most of the habitable buildings of the priory have long since perished ;
but the gate-house remains entire. The great arch, by which the church
was approached, has been built up with a wall at the one end and a win-
dow at the other ; and has been converted into a spacious dining-room.
And with the modern addition of a wing on each side, the porter's lodge
of the monks of the order of St. Benedict forms a convenient shooting-box
for its noble owner, when he is disposed to change the bustling splendours
of London, or the princely elegance of Chatsworth, for the feudal barony of
his Clifford ancestors.

* " Who plants like Bathurst or who builds like Bovle ?"

POPE.

560

THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

A STRANGER entering the present House of Commons will not, of course,
expect to find it the same with that which in 1834 was destroyed by the
memorable fire, but he will be somewhat surprised to learn that it is the
old House of Lords. The ancient and gloomy, yet chaste and symme-
trical chapel of St. Stephen's, in which the representatives of the people
previously assembled, then fell a prey to the unsparing flames ; but the
walls of the Upper House, having fortunately been of denser materials,
survived, and being of ampler dimensions than any other which could be
erected in the neighbourhood, were devoted to their present purpose.

The stranger — for unless he be a member of the House, the oldest in-
habitant in London will in parliamentary phraseology fall under this de-
signation, even should he, like the huge-headed little dwarf generally
found near the purlieus^ have passed fifty years of his existence on its
stairs — the stranger, we say, will have reason to regret the change. He
would naturally have liked to see the place to which, even so late as the
days of Henry VII., so little importance was attached, that several con-
stituencies then begged to be excused the task and cost of sending mem-
bers to it. He would like to see the place where stood those indepen-
dent gentlemen who humoured Harry VIII. by recommending him as
many wives as he chose, and praying for their decapitation whenever lie
thought proper. He would have liked to see the place where Elizabeth,
on some occasion when they shewed themselves inclined to be refractory,
threatened them with the whipping post ; and where James I., though they
were disposed to be more stubborn still, yet found them ready listeners to
his lectures upon " Kingcraft," and still more devout believers in his
faith respecting witchcraft. Here Charles I. had found stubbornness
warmed into resistance. Those walls had re-echoed the deep sonorous
voice of Pym when he arraigned the authority of the Star Chamber, and
the soft melodious accents of the resolute yet gentle Hampden, when he
offered an inflexible opposition to ship-money. Here, when Charles and
his power had passed away, the stern command of Cromwell had ordered
to be removed as a " bauble " that mace to which all previous and suc-
ceeding members have been accustomed to look with such mysterious re-
verence ; and here the same daring soldier had commanded that exquisite
fanatic, Praise-God Barebones, with his associates, to " be off," adding
profanely, when they told him " they were seeking the Lord," that " they
must seek Him elsewhere," inasmuch as to his (Oliver's) certain know-
ledge, "He had not been there for many years to be found." There the
stout-hearted Lord Russell had questioned or denied the existence of
those Meal-tub, Rye-house, and Popery plots, with which Bedlowe and
Oats distracted the days of the second Charles and James : and there had
the voice of the querulous but patriotic Algernon Sidney been heard be-
fore it was extinguished for ever. Within- its precincts James II. had
once found friends for his struggle ; but here too had been confirmed that

THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 561

revolution by which his power was for ever destroyed. Here even Wil-
liam III. encountered resistance, and the massacre of Glencoe was de-
nounced ; but the spirit of the place seems to have disappeared during
the two or three succeeding reigns, or to have taken another form, when
Walpole announced that " every man in it had his price." During the
latter half of George the Second's reign, it had resounded to the eloquence
of the elder Pitt, and, during a third of George the Third's, it had re-
echoed the scarcely less commanding notes of his fiery son. The elder
Fox, as well as the elder Pitt, had been heard in the interval ; and here
had Burke, with his magnificent imagination and earnest elocution, deli-
vered those harangues which posterity have admired. Wilberforce had
within these walls deprecated slavery ; and Windham had not been
ashamed to advocate boxing, bull-baiting, and cock-fighting, though a
more refined generation has consigned Mr. Windham and his " manly
sports," alike to oblivion. Here Charles James Fox had made his
maiden speech as a Tory, and William Pitt his debut as a Whig;
though, reversing their respective positions, they afterwards assailed
and defended each other's principles in language whose glowing elo-
quence almost surpassed that of Cicero and Demosthenes. And, last
of all, the past generation, the witty and classic Canning had here poured
forth his keen sarcasm and polished diction against foes and colleagues
who still survive.

Nothing of this is now to be heard or seen ; and yet on great occasions
it would not be difficult still to point out men on either side of the House
not unworthy of being ranked as successors to these illustrious names.
Where, give him time to prepare his speech, shall we find any past orator
deliver a more glowing essay than Macaulay — and where, at any period,
can be found a debater who rises with more consummate readiness and
confidence in himself and his party, than Sir Robert Peel ? His speeches
may not read so advantageously in the newspapers ; they may not have
the stamina of Russell's, or the fire of Shiel's, but they are delivered with
an ease and an address, a tact and a skill in declamation, which throw the
occasionally hesitating accents of the one, though they can never cast the
fervid strains of the other, into shade. No sooner does the Premier
rise, and disclose his buff waistcoat, and somewhat portly person, than the
House is hushed, and whatever be the difference in political opinion, an
auditor must confess that he has never heard a speech in which details
were more dexterously arranged or ably delivered.

But we are here anticipating ; the great men seldom shine forth till a
late hour of the night ; and if a stranger desire to witness the operations
of the Commons for a day, he must provide himself with an order from a
member — for the magic silver ticket is no longer tolerated — and hie down
to the House somewhere about half-past three, or, if the debate be im-
portant, before three o'clock. He will generally then find a crowd in the
lobby — most of them idlers like himself, but others desirous of passing-
interviews with members, either to talk of present business or to remind
them of former promises. He will then observe with what indifference
the independent representative treats a constituent, if a general election be
past and his seat secure ; but how marvellously polite he grows, if that
stirring movement be at hand, or the worthy member's return at all in
jeopardy. In a moment the interview is generally at an end — the senator
being anxious either to escape the importunity of the immacculate voter,

562 THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

or to exhibit the zeal with which, like a Roman soldier, he hurries to his
post ; or if the consultation be protracted, you may predict that one of the
parties is either a friend of the member's without a favour to ask, or some
influential supporter whose opposition is not to be risked. He disappears
through a blue cloth door, after perhaps a moment's whisper with a little
mild-looking man in silver hair and silk tights, on one side of the recess ;
or it may be a tall, half-clerical, half-rakish-looking personage, with grey
locks and brow erect (both door-keepers), at the other. If the stranger
attempt to follow, he will be quickly apprised of his error, by the former
in terms polite but decided, by the other in accents more brief than com-
plimentary. He may possibly be surprised to find such persons as door-
keepers ; but let him' not wonder at their nonchalance — for the first is the
assistant with £1,000, and the other the chief Cerberus with a salary of
£1,500 a-year. In the old days of the unreformed Parliament, they re-
ceived from individual members at least as much again ; and many mem-
bers then, perhaps, as well as now, would not have objected to exchange
positions.

On inquiry, he will be directed to an outer door marked " Strangers-
Gallery ; " but he must not yet enter, for the House is at prayers, and
allows no one to participate in its devotions. What these are, no one
knows ; to the uninitiated they are not less mysterious than the Eleu-
sinian, but it may be inferred that they are not quite so agreeable, as
except on important debates, when it becomes necessary to attend in
order procure seats, it is seldom that more than forty persons — the num-
ber necessary to constitute a House — can be got together to join the
Speaker in his piety. Some of the senators, indeed, have attempted to
secure their seats by leaving their hats as a substitute ; but after a grave
discussion between Mr. Wakley and Sir John Easthope, it was decided
that, for the desired end, the heads must be present too. Hence the
visitor is detained for a quarter of an hour in the lobby ; but he may
previously have been treated to a sight of the coming grandeur, by seeing
the Speaker in flowing robe and floating wig pass before him, preceded
by the Sergeant-at-arms and mace, held by Cromwell in so little respect,
but before . which every man and member is expected to bow and
uncover.

On entering the House, it will be found to be a long and somewhat
narrow oblong chamber, with a gallery capable of accommodating a hun-
dred or a hundred and fifty persons (for the public) at one extremity, and
a smaller one for the accommodation of the press at the other. On each
side there is a gallery, designed for those silent but very essential mem-
bers of the ministerial and opposition parties who do not favour the
House with their eloquence, but are to be reckoned on when it comes to
the more important point of the vote.

This is the aspect of the upper part of the House, which, from his
position, usually first strikes the stranger's eye ; and if he cast his
glances downwards, he will find that it is not less curious. Before a
huge-looking pulpit, which obscures half the chamber, will be seen,
arrayed in black robe and flowing wig, that Speaker so called — lucus a
non lucendo — because, with the exception of now and then calling his
noisy sunounders to order, he rarely opens his mouth — and of whose
enduring powers as a listener — on an average of eight hours a day during
more than half the year — to the most tiresome and prolix harangues, the

THE HOUSE OF COMMON?. 5(>3

country has an opinion so high and so commisserative, that it deems the
£5000 a year he receives dearly earned, and the peerage subsequently
conferred — " when all his toil and trouble cease " — well bestowed. In
front and beneath the Speaker, are two or three gentlemen — clerks, who
scroll aviay no one knows what, but it ought to be good, as it costs the
nation about £6,000 annually ; and, in front of them again, is a long
red-covered table, on which reposes that sacred mace, more necessary for
the constitution of the House than either Speaker or members them-
selves. Here, likewise, are one or two mysterious red boxes, the con-
tents of which remain undivulged, and the use equally unknown — unless
it be to impart a more impressive sound to the descent of the minister's
hand when he brings it down either in a burst of patriotic fire, or of
indignation with the contradiction he may have received from some mem-
ber of the opposition. On each side are ranges of gradually ascending
benches, for the ministerial and opposition parties, the front row of which
is occupied by the respective leaders of each, and farther forward still
stands a knot of gentlemen chatting at the bar, or when a speaker is un-
usually prosy, attempting to silence him by sham asthmas, which are
often protracted until at last they become converted into real. In the
neighbourhood is the Sergeant-at-arms, with sword by his side, ready to
protect the mace and Speaker at the peril of his life, or to take into
custody, and detain till sundry expensive fees are paid, any refractory
members who may refuse submission to the Speaker's authority. At the
farther end, but excluded from the stranger's view, are a few rows of
benches set aside for the accommodation of any peers who may feel inclined
to visit the Lower House, and generally occupied by past members of the
Commons, whose recollections prompt them to revisit the scene of their
former strife.

Prayers being finished, the Speaker commences the business of the
day by counting the first forty members that enter, and if there be not as
many ere the clock before him strikes four, he quietly retreats after an-
nouncing the result. This is a stratagem often played by the ministry
or opposition when a disagreeable motion is to be brought forward ; the
inferior members of each, whose duty it is to " form a house," get the
hint and retire, — and great is the expressed astonishment of their leaders,
next day, to learn of this waste of the nation's time. But if forty be
present, the House proceeds to business ; that of presenting petitions
being the first performed.

- Our object in writing this paper is not to afford idle and transient
amusement, but to impart solid and lasting imformation ; and assuredly,
if this part of it be generally read and remembered, a vast saving both
of time and money will accrue from noting the conduct of the House
concerning petitions. An individual, on putting his name to one of these
documents, may not altogether imagine that the Speaker and each mem-
ber are to inspect his caligraphy ; but he may entertain a faint belief that
some slight attention will be paid to the array in the aggregate. In this
surmise, however, he will be assuredly disappointed. He will find that
neither petition nor names are read ; that the designation of it alone is
slovenly muttered over by the individual who presents it, and that it is
then coolly thrown under the table, to be heard of no more. What be-
comes of these impressive documents — whether they be carefully stowed
away for the benefit of posterity, or disposed of immediately for the con-

564 THE HOUSE Or COMMONS.

venience of trimkmakers — it is impossible even" to guess ; but the
stranger, most certainly, after once witnessing their reception, will never
again adhibit his name to such a document.

The petitions over, the time for boring the ministry commences. One
gentleman from the opposition benches gets up and asks the Premier
whether the Americans design to annex Ireland, or the French admiral
to marry the Queen of the Otaheite Islands ; and when his curiosity has
been gratified by the Minister's reply, that "he does not know, but will
institute the necessary inquiries, and mean time begs to assure the House
that in neither of these important contingences will he lose sight of the
interest and honour of England ; " another rises in the Minister's rear,
and begs to be informed whether there be any truth in the newspaper
rumours, that the Queen intends to create her husband King Consort,
and appoint him, on the first vacancy, Archbishop of Canterbury ? to
which the unhappy official replies in the negative, with a sharpness and
asperity that might induce listeners to suppose there is some truth in his
frequent declaration that " the prime minister of this country reposes not
on a bed of roses," were it not for the reflection that, if he really were
sincere, he might at any time exchange its thorns for a couch of swan-
down.

The business of the day now begins. Bills are brought in, and read a
first stage unopposed ; for, in accordance with the forms of the House, it
would be uncourteous to resist the first reading of a bill ; but, when the
second stage arrives, the discussion in reality commences. It is rarely,
however, until half-past nine or ten o'clock that it becomes interesting.
Yet dear is this interval to prosy speakers ! Now many men get up and
bore the House by the hour, who, at a later period of the evening, would
not for a moment be heard. And gladly is the opportunity seized by
those who would at no other time have a chance of seeing their names in
print, for the delight of themselves, and wonder of their constituents.

Ten — eleven o'clock draws nigh, and the great speakers now rise. An
ingenious calculator on the opposition benches has, perhaps, discovered
that there is a mistake involving the amount of ten-pence three farthings
in the revenue of the year, and he arraigns this act of public profligacy
in terms to which the Chancellor of the Exchequer replies with a pro-
lixity and obscurity which confirm the prevailing opinion, — that language
was imparted to enable man to conceal his thoughts. Then arises a more
important member of the opposition, and hurls at a superior minister some
more weighty denunciation, which the Premier casts aside or returns with
as much coolness as the general who defended his position by intercept-
ing and returning his assailants' cannon-balls. Several combatants on
both sides join successively in the dispute ; their leaders generally bring-
ing up the rear, and the party who broke the debateable ground
invariably possessing the right of reply. The House becomes tumultu-
ous ; the cry of "Divide!" is heard; the hour of voting approaches;
and now do those silent members who plume themselves on this power
feel their full importance. Each of these gentlemen is now on a level
with the most eloquent speaker in the House, and by their aid is the
question settled, unless it be adjourned to another evening on the motion
of some member who objects, on principle, to midnight legislation, or of
another who is desirous to take part in the fight, but requires time to
marshal his forces for the strife.

565

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

PROPOSALS FOK FORMING A GENEALOGICAL PUBLICATION SOCIETY.

To the Editor of "The Patrician.''

SIR, — With your permission, I shall occupy a page or two of your journal, in
laying before your readers some suggestions, respecting the furtherance of studies
which are dear to yourself and them. I mean, I need hardly say, Family
History.

It is not in the pages of THE PATRICIAN, where the nature and objects of such
studies have been so invitingly set forth, any defence of them is needed ; still
must I transcribe the philosophic eloge of GIBBON, as given us in his Autobio-
graphy. " A lively desire," he wrote, " of knowing and recording our ancestors
so generally prevails, that it must depend on the influence of some common prin-
ciple in the minds of men. We seem to have lived in the persons of our fore-
fathers ; it is the labour and reward of vanity to extend the term of this ideal
longevity. Our imagination is always active to enlarge the narrow circle in which
Nature has confined us. Fifty or a hundred years may be allotted to an indivi-
dual ; but we step forwards beyond death with such hopes as religion and philo-
sophy will suggest ; and we fill up the silent vacancy that precedes our birth, by
associating ourselves to the authors of our existence. Our calmer judgment will
rather tend to moderate than to suppress the pride of an ancient and worthy-
race. The satirist may laugh, the philosopher may preach ; but reason herself
will respect the prejudices and habits which have been consecrated by the expe-
rience of mankind." I believe, therefore, that the expression of some ideas,
which seem calculated to augment our ancestral knowledge, will not be unwel-
come ; and I shall endeavour to intrude as little as possible on your time and
space.

A marked feature in the publishing history of our own day, is the division of
subjects among particular Book Societies, in such a way that the student may
possess himself of the rarest volumes in his favorite branches, at a cost little
above that of the mere paper and type. The societies themselves have already
multiplied to such extent, that their names are becoming difficult of enumeration.
To give the pas to Theology ; there are the Parker, the Calvin, the Wodrow ;
and other associations. Again, the names of the Camden, the Percy, and the
Shakspeare clubs sufficiently set forth their literary intentions. But the ques-
tion that has often occurred to your correspondent, and which he would put
through you, Mr. Editor, to the public, is this : — WHY HAVE WE NO GENEALO-
GICAL BOOK. CLUB ? Are not the themes of sufficient moment ? Nay, Are other
themes whatsoever of equal domestic and personal interest ? I think not.

Most of your readers, doubtless, are sufficiently acquainted w.th the simple
code of rules, which form the groundwork of these societies. The subscription is
a mere trifle — one or two guineas per annum; the volumes returned for it
average four annually ; and the cessation of contributing is a cessation of mem-
bership— no subscriber being liable for more than the amount of his, or her,
subscription. Is it possible for the laborious investigator of family antiquities
to hope that, through the medium of some such association, he may see his toil
lightened — his knowledge increased — and himself rewarded by an appreciating
audience, brought together in this simple way ?

Were such a Society formed, a name for it would be easily found ; and let us
suppose it to be named the ffarleian, while I bring forward some of the works to
which its attention might be fairly directed :

I. THE VISITATION BOOKS. — A list of these, but not a complete one, is given
in your first volume, page 112. I would propose that the Harleian Book Society
employ a competent editor to collate, and collect, these invaluable records, as
they exist in the College of Arms, the British Museum, the University libraries,

566 ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

and in private collections. Such publications to include (keeping each county
separate) every record of the herald's visits from the earliest time to the period,
of their discontinuance.

II. THE PAROCHIAL REGISTRIES. — These entries of the three memorable
things in life, — birth — marriage — and death, should be transcribed, and put
forth verbatim et literatim. There should be no conjectural amendment, no
attempted improvements. Even where a name was absurdly mis-spelled, or a
date given that defied all effort at chronological understanding, still the error
should be copied, and the only liberty given to the Editor should be the power
of adding "(M'C)" to the statement, to prove his own impeccability. And let me
inform you, Sir, as I do with great sorrow, that in many parts of at least the
country where I reside, Ireland, the parochial registries have perished ; and
from want of attention on the part of the public, or of the government (for in
truth, they are national property), they no longer exist to gratify the research
of the Antiquary and Genealogist. It is to check this irremediable destruction,
I would propose that the society should immediately procure transcripts of all
the Registers of the United Kingdom, and give them forth, from time to time, as
the occasion required, and the subscribers gave them encouragement.

These " Church books," as they are sometimes called, are handed over from
incumbent to incumbent, according as each parish receives a new head. In
most cases they fall into the hands of gentlemen, who, from their professions no
less than from educational refinement, are fully competent to know the value of
these deposits, and to guard them with zealous attention and care. But in some
instances, the clergyman, wrapt up as he is in his spiritual avocations, transfers
the charge of the books to his parish clerk — directs him to make the entries —
and eventually to assume the guardianship of these records. And the conse-
quences have been wofully apparent. Leaves have been stolen — entries
neglected — dates falsified — names inserted ; to such extent that a skilful lawyer
might well summon on the witness-table the clergyman of a parish, from the
registry of which dates may have been brought forward, to question him on
oath " Do you keep, Sir, the registries yourself f "

III. WILLS. — A careful publication of the names of testators, and dates of
the execution of wills, from the different prerogative offices would be desirable.
How easily then to refer, throughout the United Kingdom, to the index of
these volumes, which at once would direct to the existence of documents, so
wonderfully illustrative of family matters !

IV. FUNERAL CERTIFICATES. — These are so easily understood, that nothing
need be said beyond the evident value of their being made accessible.

V. MONASTIC CHARTULARIES, AND KINDRED MANUSCRIPTS. — More ancient
in date than the foregoing, I have placed these nevertheless behind them ; inas-
much as until the society became established on a sure basis, its publications
should partake of a more popular nature, than these apparently dry chronicles.
Yet how much matter can be extracted from Leiger Books, Calendars, and
Necrologies, every genealogist knows. Under this same head would be included
selections from the Chartce Antiques of the British Museum, and of the other
habitats of these records.

VI. ORIGINAL PUBLICATIONS. — I should have high expectations from this
source. Despite the literary spirit of the age, there is but little encouragement
for books of research, such as are the slow growth of many years spent in
anxious, weary labour. The subjects they bring forward, are not calculated to
stimulate the passions, nor excite the imagination. They are the details of facts
• — grains of gold gathered from the river-bed of Time. Such works, then, as
would worthily illustrate the history of an ancient race, having met the appro-
bation of a managing committee in London, might be printed at the society's
expense, and included in their issue to their subscribers.

lam aware that I have but very ftebly put forward my views ; and shall now
leave the matter in the hands of some abler man, who is better qualified to carry
them into effect.

Yours very sincerely,
November 3rd 1847. GENEROSUS.

567

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

MOUNTAGU. The Christian name
of the distinguished soldier to whom
this entry refers, was Drogo, deno-
minated " de Montagu," from a
town in Normandy. In Domesday
Book, he is styled Drogo de Mon-
tacuto, and appears by the pos-
sessions he held under Robert, Earl
of Morton, to have come over in
the retinue of that great Earl, the
half-brother of the Conqueror.
This Drogo fixed his chief resi-
dence at the castle of Shipton-
Montacute, co. Somerset, and hence
his descendants continued to be
designated. Simon de Montacute,
Lord of Shipton- Montacute, gained
great distinction as a successful
warrior in the martial times of
Edward I. "In the 24th of that
monarch" (says Hollinshed) " those
Englishmen that kept the town of
Burg, being compassed about with
a siege by Monsieur de Sully, ob-
tained a truce for a certain space ;
during the which, they sent unto
Blaines for some relief of vittels,
and where other refused to bring
up a ship laden with vittels, which
was there prepared, the Lord SIMON
DE MONTAGEW, a right valiant chief-
taine, and a wise, took upon him
the enterprise, and thro' the middle
of the French gallies, which were
placed in the river to stop, that no
ship should passe towards that
towne ; by help of a prosperous
wind, he got into the haven of
Burg, and so relieved them within
of their want of vittels ; by means
whereof, Monsieur de Sulley broke
up his siege and returned into
France." From this renowned

VOL. IV., NO. XX.

soldier descended the illustrious
race of Montague, conspicuous in
all the great achievements of Eng-
lish history. Thomas de Mon-
tacute, last Earl of Salisbury, was
concerned in so many military
exploits, that to give an account
of them all would be to write the
annals of the reign of Henry V.
Suffice it then to say, that as he
lived, so he died, in the service
of his country ; being mortally
wounded when commanding the
English army at the siege of Or-
leans, in 1428. His wife was the
Lady Eleanor Holland, a de-
scendant of the royal house of
Plantagenet, and by her he had an
only daughter and heiress, the Lady
Alice, who wedded Richard Nevill,
eldest son of Ralph, Earl of
Westmoreland, by his second wife,
Joane de Beaufort, dau. of John of
Gaunt. In right of this marriage,
Richard Nevill had the Earldom of
Salisbury revived in his person,
and was succeeded therein by his
eldest son, Richard Nevill, Earl of
WarMdck and Salisbury, the hero of
the Wars of the Roses,

" The setter-up and puller down of Kings."

Though the chief line of the Mon-
tacutes thus failed in an heiress,
male branches continued to flourish,
and from these sprang the Dukes
of Montague and the Earls of
Halifax, now extinct, the Dukes
of Manchester, and the Earls of
Sandwich.

MOUNTFOED. Hugh de Montfort,
commonly called " Hugh with a
s s

568

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

Beard," son of Thurstan de Bas-
tenburgh, accompanied William
from Normandy, and aided that
prince's triumph at Hastings, for
which eminent service he obtained
divers fair lordships ; and at the
time of the General Survey, was
possessor of twenty-eight in Kent,
sixteen in Essex, fifty-one in
Suffolk, and nineteen in Norfolk.
The descendant of this fortunate
soldier, PETER DE MONTFORT, living
temp. Henry III., became one of
the most zealous amongst the tur-
bulent barons of the era, and, after
the battle of Lewes, was of the
Nine nominated to rule the king-
dom ; in which station he enjoyed
and exercised more than regal
power, but of short duration, for
he fell at the subsequent conflict of
Evesham, .so disastrous to the
baronial cause. His male line ter-
minated with his great-grandson,
Peter de Montford, third lord, who
died s. p. in 1367, leaving an ille-
gitimate son, SIR JOHN MONT-
FORT, Knight, whose posterity
flourished in the male line for
several subsequent generations at
Coleshill, co. Warwick, until the
attainder of Sir Simon Montfort,
Knt., temp. Henry VII., whose
descendants continued at Bescote,
co. Stafford

MAULE. The ancient Norman
family of Maule assumed their
surname from the town and lord-
ship of Maule, in the Vexin
Francois, eight leagues from Paris.
Roger, last Lord of Maule, was
slain at the Battle of Nicopolis
in Hungary, fighting against the
Turks, anno 1398, and his coat of
arms was set up in the Parisian
Cathedral of Notre Dame. His
only daughter and heir married
Simon de Morainvilliers, Lord of
Flaccourt. A cadet of this emi-
nent family, Guarin de Maule, a
younger son of Ansold, Lord of
Maule, accompanied the Conqueror

to England, and acquired, as his
portion of the spoil, the Lordship
of Hatton, co. York, with other
extensive estates. His son, Robert
de Maule, attaching himself to
David, Earl of Huntingdon, after-
wards David II., removed into
Scotland with that monarch, and
obtained broad lands in Lothian,
whereon his descendants became
seated, until the thirteenth century,
when the marriage of Sir Peter de
Maule with the richly-dowered
heiress of William de Valoniis,
brought into the family the Barony
of Panmure, ever after the chief
designation of the Maules. Of
this alliance the issue was two
sons, SIR WILLIAM DE MAULE, an-
cestor of the Lords Panmure, and
SIR THOMAS DE MAULE, Governor
of Brechin Castle, the only fortress
that interrupted the conquests of
Edward I.

MONTHERMER. Ralph de Mon-
thermer, who is described as "a
plain Esquire," married the Lady
Joan Plantagenet, daughter of King
Edward I. and widow of Gilbert"
Earl of Clare and Gloucester, and
had the title of Earl of Gloucester
and Hertford in her right. Pro-
bably this Ralph was a descendant
of the Knight whose name appears
in the Battle Roll. His grand-
daughter and heiress, Margaret de
Monthermer, wedded Sir John de
Montacute, and conveyed the Ba-
rony of Monthermer to the family
of Montacute.

MAINELL. Hugo de Grante
Mesnill was one of the most potent
Barons of the Conquest. His de-
scendants were summoned to par-
liament in the reign of Edward I.,
and possessed vast estates in the
Midland Counties and in Yorkshire.
The Meynells of Hoar Cross, co.
Stafford, and of Langley, co.
Derby, claim to derive their lineage
from Hugo de Grante Mesnill.

MALEVERER. Sir Richard Maul-

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

569

everer, Knight, came into England
with the Conqueror, and was con-
stituted Master or Ranger of the
Forests, Chases, and Parks north of
the Trent. He was founder of the
family of MAULEVERER of Arncliffe,
co. York.

MONFIAUT. Eustace de Monte
Alto, surnamed the Norman Hunter,
was one of the soldiers of the Con-
quest, in the immediate train of the
Palatine Earl of Chester, the potent
Hugh Lupus, from whom, in re-
quital of his gallant services, Monte
Alto or Monhaut obtained the
Lordships of Montalt and Hawarden
in Flintshire, places still designat-
ing a branch of his descendants,
the noble house of Maude, Viscounts
Hawarden and Barons of Montalt.
Eustace's great-great-grandson,
Andomar de Montalt, founded the
Yorkshire and only surviving line
of the family. His eldest brother,
Robert de Montalt, who received
summons to parliament from 27
Edward I. to 13 Edward III., died
s. p. Andomar, accompanying, in
1 1 74, the expedition against William
the Lion, had the good fortune to
make the Scotch monarch prisoner
by surprise ; and conveying the
royal captive to Henry II., then at
Falaise, that Prince granted to him,
instead of his ancient insignia, " a
Lion gu (the Lion of Scotland)
debruised by two bars sa," to
denote captivity. From his son
and heir, Robert de Montalt, de-
scended the Maudes of West Ryd-
dylsden, the parent stem, from which
sprang the Maudes, now Lords
Hawarden, and the Maudes of
Alverthorpe Hall, near Wakefield
(connected in marriage with theLow
thers of Lowther Castle,) whose se-
nior representative, resident in York-
shire is the present JOHN MAUDE, of
Moor House, Esq., a Magistrate and
Deputy Lieutenant of the West
Riding, the author of a most in-
teresting and graphic work, pub-

lished at Wakefield in 1826, under
the title of " A Visit to the Falls
of Niagara in 1800. "

MINERS. This gallant Norman
appears to have been rewarded by
grants of lands in Herefordshire.
Certain it is that the estate of
Treago in that county has been
held by the family of Mynors from
the era of the Conquest even to the
present day, being now possessed
by PETER RICKARDS MYNORS, Esq.,
who represents also the great and
historic house of Baskerville of
Erdesley, and derives in direct de-
scent from the royal line of Plan-
tagenet.

MOUNTGOMERIE. Roger de Mont-
gomerie was kinsman of William of
Normandy, and commander of the
first body of the Duke's army at
the battle of Hastings. There is an
old MS. at Grey Abbey, co. Down,
written about the year 1696, by
William Montgomery, of that place,
son of the Hon. Sir James Mont-
gomery, giving an account of this
family, in which he remarks : " For
the honour of the nation in general,
let it be known to all, that there is
at this day the title of a Counte or
Earle of the name of all his Majes-
ty's four kingdoms ; viz., Count
Montgomery, in France ; Earl of
Montgomery, in England ; Earl of
Eglinton in Scotland ; and Earl of
Mount Alexander, in Ireland ; the
like whereof cannot be truly said
(as I believe) of any other surname
in all the world." In the same
manuscript, he states, alluding to
ROGER, fifth Count de Montgomery,
who led the van at the battle of
Hastings — " In anno 1652, I saw
in Westminster Abbey, this ROGER'S
coat of arms and name written un-
der it, as benefactor of the building
thereof. He was in rank or place
the seventh or eighth (as I remem-
ber) among the contributors to the
said building, or to the convent
thereof; but in anno 1664, I found

570

THE ROLL OF BATTL.E ABBEY.

that his name or arms, and all the
rest (above forty noblemens'), were
wholly razed but as writings (on a
stone table book) are, with a wet
sponge."

MAINWARING. Ranulphus de
Mesnilwarren was the name of the
Norman adventurer, thus recorded
on the Battle Roll. He received
the grant of fifteen lordships, in-
cluding Over Peover, and founded
the family of Mainwaring, so dis-
tinguished in the annals of Cheshire.
The chief line, that of Peover, was
raised to a baronetcy at the Restor-
ation in 1660, but the title became
extinct at the death, in 1797, of the
late Sir Henry Mainwaring, who
devised his estates to his uterine
brother, Thomas Wetenhal, Esq.
The present male representative of
this ancient house is Captain ROW-
LAND MAINWARING, R.N., of Whit-
more Hall, co. Stafford.

MORTON, Cardinal Morton, Arch-
bishop of Canterbury and Lord
Chancellor, temp. Henry VII., was
probably a descendant of the Nor-
man knight. Of this celebrated
prelate, Anthony Wood states,
" that he was a wise and eloquent
man, but in his nature harsh and
haughty — that he was much ac-
cepted by the king, but envied by
the nobility and hated by the people.
He won the king's mind with se-
crecy and diligence, chiefly because
he was his old servant in his less
fortunes, and for that also he was
in his affections not without an in-
veterate malice against the house
of York, under which he had been
in trouble." From the Cardinal's
brother, Richard, descended the
Mortons of Milbourne St. Andrew,
co. Dorset, raised to the degree of
baronets in 1619, and now repre-
sented by the Pleydells.

NOERS. This name should, we
think, be written Noels, and must
apply to the patriarch of the emi-
nent family of Noel. Be this, how-

ever, as it may,- evident it is, from
the foundation of the Priory of
Raunton, in Staffordshire, that
Noel came into England with the
Conqueror ; and, for his services,
obtained the manors of Ellenhall,
Wiverstone, Podmore, and Mil-
nese. His eldest son, Robert Noel,
Lord of Ellenhall, was further en-
riched, temp. Henry I., by a grant
of the greater part of Gainsborough,
from the Prior of Coventry. This
potent Lord founded the monastery
of Raunton, in Staffordshire. From
him derived the Noels of Hilcote,
and the Noels of the counties of
Rutland and Leicester. Sir An-
drew Noel, Knt., of Dalby, in the
last-named shire, was a person of
great note in the reign of Elizabeth,
living in such magnificence as to
vie with noblemen of the largest
fortunes. Fuller, in his "Worthies,"
saith that this Andrew, " for per-
son, parentage, grace, gesture, va-
lour, and many other excellent
parts (amongst which skill in mu-
sic,) was of the first rank in the
Court." He was knighted by Queen
Elizabeth, and became a great fa-
vourite; but the expenses in which
he was involved, obliged him to
sell his seat and manor of Dalby,
a circumstance which elicited from
the Queen the following distich
upon the imprudent knight's name :

" The word of denial and letter of fifty,
Is that gentleman's name who will never be
thrifty."

Sir Andrew's son and successor,
Edward, Lord Noel, of Ridlington,
succeeded his father-in-law, Baptist
Hickes, in the Viscouncy of Camp-
den, and died in the garrison of
Oxford, 10th March, 1643, leaving
a son and heir, Baptist Noel, Vis-
count Campden, a devoted adherent
of the royal cause, and a severe
sufferer in consequence, his princely
seat in Gloucestershire having been
burnt down by the King's forces to
prevent its becoming a garrison to

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

571

the Parliamentarians. His Lord-
ship's eldest son, Edward Noel,
Viscount Campden, was raised, in
1682, to the Earldom of Gains-
borough, a dignity that expired in
1798, at the death of Henry Noel,
sixth Earl, whose grand-nephew,
Charles Noel Noel, Lord Barham,
had the old title of his maternal
ancestors revived in his person, and
is the present Earl of Gains-
borough.

The Noels of Kirby Mallory, co.
Leicester, were a younger branch
of the Ridlington Noels. Their
senior representative is Anna Isa-
bella, the Dowager Lady Byron.

NEVIL. Gilbert de Nevil, the
companion-in-arms of the Con-
queror, is styled by some genealo-
gists the Duke's Admiral ; but in
the General Survey, no mention of
any person of the name occurs.
Gilbert's grandson, Geoffrey de
Nevil, wedded Emma, daughter and
heir of Bertram de Bulmer, Lord of
Brancepeth, and left a son, Henry,
who died, s. p., in 1227, and an
only daughter, Isabella, the greatest
heiress of her time, who became the
wife of Robert Fitz Maldred, Lord
of Raby, the lineal male represen-
tative of Uchtred, Earl of Nor-
thumberland. Out of gratitude for
the large inheritance brought to
them by the heiress of Nevill, or in
compliance with the fashion of the
time to Normanize, the Saxon Lords
of Raby thenceforward assumed the
appellation of Nevill, and from that
period the fortunes of the family
rapidly culminated, till they eclip-
sed, by their more recent splendour,
the Saxon honours of the house.
From " a Sketch of the Stock of
Nevill," by W. E. Surtees, Esq.,
D.C.L., we extract the following
able summary of the most illustri-
ous race on the roll of English
genealogy.

"To John Lord Nevill, who was
at different periods warden of the

East Marches, Governor of Barn-
borough, High Admiral of England,
Lieutenant of Aquitaine, and Sen-
eschal of Bourdeaux, is to be chiefly
attributed the building of the splen-
did Pile of Raby, which in 1379,
he had a licence to castellate. In
1385, he attended Richard II. on
his expedition to Scotland. The
nobility of the north formed the
rearward, and Lord Nevill's train
consisted of two hundred men-at-
arms, and three hundred archers.
He died at Newcastle-on-Tyne, in
1388, and lies buried in Durham
cathedral, where his altar-tomb still
remains between the pillars of the
south aisle.

" His son and successor, Ralph
Lord Nevill, was created Earl of
Westmoreland, 17 Rich. II. He
soon afterwards deserted (toge-
gether with Henry Percy first Earl
of Northumberland) the falling
fortunes of Richard, and was one
of the principal instruments in
placing the House of Lancaster on
the throne. The new monarch
showered dignities on the family
of Nevill. The Earl was invested in
the honour of Richmond, and made
Earl Marshal : and by his second
marriage — that with Joan, daugh-
ter of John of Gaunt, ' time-
honour'd Lancaster ' — became
brother-in-law to his sovereign.
When the Percys revolted, he ad-
hered faithfully to Henry. On
his side he fought at the battle
of Shrewsbury ; on the eve of
which, to this greeting given to Sir
Richard Vernon by Hotspur : —

' My cousin Vernon ! Welcome by my soul ! '

Vernon answers : —

' Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John,'

thitherwards to that field from
which soon the gallant young Percy

' Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers ; but he did look in vain,

572

THE ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY.

ere the dubious victory of the rebels
was changed, by his own death, to
a ruinous defeat.

" In a second insurrection in the
North, he was the * well-appointed
leader' who, being sent, together
with Prince John, with an inferior
force against the rebels, dispersed
their army, without bloodshed, at
Shipton Moor, near York, and de-
livered up their chiefs, Mowbray
and Scrope, Archbishop of York,
to Henry and the scaffold. Some
say that he effected this by deceiv-
ing the simplicity of the aged pre-
late in agreeing to his proposals ;
others that he persuaded him to
disband his followers, as the only
means of appeasing the King and
procuring a favourable answer to
his petitions.

" In the next reign he followed
Henry V. into France, and shared
in the victory of Agincourt. With
the discrimination of character
which Shakspere invariably ex-
hibits, Westmoreland, the veteran
experienced warrior, recommends
Henry to subdue first his trouble-
some neighbours on the other side
the Tweed : —

'For once the eagle England being in prey,
To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
Comes sneaking, and go sucks the princely eggs. '

"In the roll of Agincourt the
Earl Marshal had in his train five
knights, thirty lances, and eighty
archers. Of these, the names of
some strike familiarly on a northern

ear, as Sir Thomas Rokesby, Sir
John Hoton, Edmond Rodham,
Roger Ratcliffe, John Swinborne,
John Wardale, John Wytton.

" Shakspere preserves the con-
sistency of his character by making
him wish, as any reasonable man
would do before the commencement
of so doubtful a battle, —

' Oh that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day.'

While Henry, with real or assumed
romantic feeling, answers : —

' The fewer men the greater share of honour.'

" The strong light in which
Shakspere brings out Westmoreland
in his Henry IV. and Henry V.
is a proof that he was even then
remembered as a subtle and power-
ful agent in the intrigues of his
age. He died full of years and
honours in 1426, and is buried
under *a right stately tomb of
alabaster ' in the choir of his own
collegiate church of Staindrop.
The Earl had twenty-one children.
From his first bed sprung the
Earls of Westmoreland. But none
of his descendants in this, the elder,
line seem to have inherited his
talent or his ambition. — From his
second bed arose the princely
house of Salisbury, Warwick, and
Montague, whose blood mingled
with that of Plantagenet, and the
Lords Fauconberg, Latimer, and
Abergavenny."

573

THE THEATRES.

THE NEW HISTORICAL PLAY AT THE PRINCESS'S THEATRE.

THE spirit of Macready has come here to save a weak management,
and a declining house. The Princess's Theatre had for some time past
b< en losing the favour of the public, from the strange medley of its
performances, and the inferior manner in which they have been put upon
the stage. For example, the admirable acting of Miss Cushman as Meg
Merrilies, and of Compton as Dominie Sampson, could hardly screen the
blameable getting up of " Guy Mannering; " and set aside Macready and
Miss Cushman's share in the representation, the tragedy of " Macbeth,"
formed here a poor contrast to the same play at Sadler's Wells. To
all this, the new drama of " Philip Van Artevelde," taken from Henry
Taylor's well known poem, is a brilliant exception. It is quite evident
that the change is owing to Mr. Macready 's genius and taste being em-
loyed in the stage and scenic arrangements as well as in the acting.
The whole performance is a beautiful histrionic display. Macready re-
presented the gallant and chivalrous gentleman of Ghent with fine
energy and exquisite feeling : his soul was in the part, and he certainly
never before appeared to such advantage. In truth, this play of " Philip
Van Artevelde " throws a sudden and pleasing light over the present
gloominess of the Princess's Theatre.

THE NEW TRAGEDY AT SADLER'S WELLS.

SADLER'S WELLS continues to present the superior drama effectively.
The tragedy recently produced there, "John Savile of Haysted," by
the Rev. Mr. White, is one of undeniable and striking merit. It has
had marked success, and becomes even more and more popular on repe-
tition. The plot of the play is a simple one.

Lilian Savile, the daughter of a good-hearted and affectionate squire
of the reign of Charles I., has discovered that her father's land is forfeit
to the crown, unless recovered by payment of ten thousand pounds, or
such less sum as may be accepted, to Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. To
save her father from this ruin the maiden determines to personally solicit
the Duke. The attempt to put this purpose into effect leads her into a
snare which Buckingham has laid to obtain possession of her person.
He detains her in his hands, and her father, in horror at the intelligence^
sends her a dose of poison, which she is to take, if he fail to rescue her
from the licentious tyrant's power. In the midst of his villany, Bucking-
ham is stabbed by Lilian's kinsman, Felton ; but the assassination comes
too late ; she has drunk the poison, and dies in her father's arms.

The great character in this tragedy is that of John Felton, admirably

574 THEATRES.

acted by Mr. G. Bennett. The introduction of Felton, who, in history,
was nothing but a foul assassin, is in some measure objectionable, when
held forth as an object of regard and pity. Yet the insanity that is
made to hover about him softens and relieves the hardness of the portrait
in the drama. Throughout, Bennett played the part to perfection ; the
encounter with Buckingham, when he is wounded, was most impressive.
His delivery of the following soliloquy was finely characteristic of the
dreamy, half-crazed puritan : —

I think the time cannot be far off now.

I feel such throbbings, and can't guess the cause ;

But, hour by hour, the feeling grows more strong.

It's like the light I've seen, when we were camp'd

Near Fort Ste. Prie : the sky grew grey at first,

Then whiter, long before the sun rose up

Behind the town ; and as the time came near,

Everything grew distinct, and yet no eye

Saw the sun's face. I see as clearly now

As were it done before me. I can't tell

What Spirit it is, that struggles in me so. [Laughs.

Ho, ho ! if it were Satan's trick, he's foiled.

All comes as if from Heaven ; a mind at rest,

Nerves steady, and a full assurance here.

Lie there. [Lays a knife on the table.

I fancy I can read some words
Upon the blade — my breath has stained it ; now
'Tis clear again, ay, clearer, for the stain.
So 'tis with fame. They *11 blacken me for this,
But my poor name will brighten for't the more.

[Looks out of the window.
How clear the sky is ! What a pleasant thing
To look up in the blue, and see no cloud !
Ho, Savile ! There 's my cousin with a man !
What ails him ? This way, Savile, Master Savile !
Go to your rest again. [Puts the knife in the sheath.

Phelps represented the Squire, John Savile, with characteristic vigour.
Most feelingly did he deliver the following really poetic lines : —

No, no ! I spoke to you in gladness. See !

I speak not gaily now — banish the thought.

Lilian, it was in musings such as these

Your sister lived : she saw with dreamy eyes,

Not what things were, but what she painted them.

She raised an idol for herself, and spent

Her heart in worship ; and the thing she made

Into a deity was — curses on him !

If I had thought, when Alice pined to death,

Day after day, looking so lovingly

Up the approach, to watch his coming step,

That he would come no more, but leave my child,

My life, my eldest hope, to die — to die !

Curse on him ! I will see him yet !

Miss Laura Addison was the graceful, loving, enthusiastic Lilian to
the life. The character was a beautiful one, and her impersonation of it
was beautiful also. In the scene with the Duke of Buckingham she was

THEATRES. 575

great. The passage is so fair a specimen of the author's style and talent,
that we make no apology for giving it here at full length :

LILIAN.

I chose the simplest robe, the suppliant white —
For am I not a suppliant ? And my hair
Needs nought, of all these gaudy diadems,
But a plain rose. Oh, if I move the Duke —
Who must be kind — to have mercy on my father,
To save him from the arts of cruel men,
Who know not how it wrongs their master's fame —
What happiness — what perfect happiness !

(Enter BUCKINGHAM.)

Now,
May I not see the Duke ?

BUCKINGHAM.

You shall, ere long.

I think the journey has brought forth a crop
Of younger roses in your cheeks.

LILIAN.

Oh, Sir!

Take me but to his Grace. I need no speech
Save what may bring me to him.

BUCKINGHAM.

So, your prayer
Is, to be brought in presence of the Duke ?

LILIAN.

Yes, and to win him to my wish.

BUCKINGHAM.

I think
You cannot fail.

LILIAN.

Ah ! then you know his heart
To be soft, tender — not the stony thing,
The selfish, proud, cold heart, the common tongue
Gives to him.

BUCKINGHAM.

Is it thus the common tongue
Bespeaks him ?

LILIAN.

Ay, but not my tongue. I know
JJe 's of a higher nature ; that the voice
Of a fond daughter, pleading in the cause
Of a loved father, will a wake all thoughts
Of holy pity in a heart like his.

BUCKINGHAM.

I think such voice, such eyes, such eloquence,
Will have far more effect, than the poor cause
Of an old father.

LILIAN.

Sir, you cannot know

What are a daughter's thoughts, or the great power
That good men feel, e'en in a father's name.

BUCKINGHAM.

What, if I tell you, Lilian, you have won

576 THEATRES

LILIAN.

That he has spared my father ? Tell him, Sir,
There is one heart shall bless him till it dies !

BUCKINGHAM.

Is 't yours, my charmer ? Tis reward enough

For sparing all the fathers in the land.

I tell you, Lilian, never was the voice

So potent with his Grace, as the light words

That part from lips like yours.

LILIAN.

What mean you, Sir ?

BUCKINGHAM.

That he has seen you— nay, has listened to you.

LILIAN.

Has he ? — I thank him that he has heard my prayer,
And yielded. Let me go to tell my father.

BUCKINGHAM.

Oh ! you'll have more to tell him, if you stay.

LILIAN.

Why should I stay ? — an hour — a minute's lost,
That keeps me from my father's arms.

BUCKINGHAM.

Not so —

For other — tenderer arms shall open wide
For you. — Ah ! Lilian, can you grudge the man
One smile who tells you he will spare your father ?

LILIAN.

A smile ? — I tell you, Sir, he '11 have my prayers —

BUCKINGHAM.

Ay, all his life, — he '11 earn them by his love,
His care — his tenderness

LILIAN.

What words are these ?

BUCKINGHAM.

Of truth— of love. — I 've heard from your own lips,
Your innocent, sweet praises of the Duke.
Your love for him has won his love. — See here,
I am the Duke. The lordly Buckingham
Is at your feet. — Why is your look so cold ?

LILIAN.]

You will not spare my father.

BUCKINGHAM.

How do you know ?

LILIAN.

For you 've deceived me.

BUCKINGHAM.

'Twas to win you, sweet.
Your father's fate is in your hands.

LILIAN.

My lord, —

I will be gone. — I waken from a dream ;
I go.

THEATRES. 5 7 7

BUCKINGHAM,

Nay, nay — not yet. — What, is this all ?
I tell you, Lilian, I love you, doat on you, —
Nay, that my heart glows with so holy a flame,
I '11 wed you.

LILIAN.

Let me go. — I will not plead
For more than license to depart.

BUCKINGHAM.

How now?
Heard you I said I 'd wed you ? — I, the Duke ?

LILIAN.

I heard you, Sir. — Rather in beggar weeds
Would I go forth an outcast thro' the world,
Than wed so mean a thing as falsehood makes.

BUCKINGHAM.

I warn you, — these are not the words to scothe
The wrath, that may consume your father's hopes.

LILIAN.

Sir ! — Let me go. — Name not my father's name.
His honest name is not for lips like yours.
You warn me — take a warning back from me.
Bethink you of the gulf you stand on. Think
That a whole land heaps curses on your head,
And I — fond, dreaming, senseless, foolish girl,
To think you pure and noble ! Hear me now :
You 've played the spy — the traitor ; look on me,
I would not wed you, if, by saying the word,
I could win kingdoms. — I shall seek my home,
If 'tis still left, and at my father's knees
Pray for God's help, since man's is useless.

The only blemish in the play is the death of Lilian — it was as un-
needed as uncalled-for. The transmitting of poison, too, from a Chris-
tian father to his daughter is but a poor reproduction of the pagan virtue
of Virginius. There is something so cruelly shocking in this conclusion,
that it disappoints and dissatifies the audience. With this exception the
tragedy is a fine one, and gives brilliant hope of what yet may be done
(thanks to Mr. Phelps) towards the fairest restoration of the highly in-
tellectual drama.

The HAYMARKET and the ADELPHI Theatres continue in most nou-
rishing condition, and deservedly so, since they labour .energetically and
efficiently to secure the mental gratification of the public.

We regret that our limits prevent us this month giving lengthened
notices of the new and popular comedy at the Haymarket, entitled
" Family Pride," and of the recent successful drama at the Adelphi,
" Gabrielli," by the late Mr. Peake.

Mrs. Warner's style of performances at the Marylebone Theatre,
travels most creditably and respectably in the track of Mr. Phelps.
Some sterling plays have here found sterling representation.

578

LITERATURE.

THE LIFE OF PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. BY THOMAS MEDWIN. In
2 vols. T. C. Newby, 72, Mortimer-Street, Cavendish-Square.
1847.

IN our humble opinion, Percy Bysshe Shelley has been much overrated
both by his friends and opponents. His poetry has been extolled by
the former as a wonder of the age ; his anti-religious opinions have been
regarded, and talked of, and written about by the latter, as if they
really were a matter of mighty moment and danger to the well-being of
society. All this excitement has passed away, and so little does the ill-
fated Shelley now interest the public, that, as Captain Medwin states in
his Preface, there is, except this book, no published record of his career,
save a few fugitive notices scattered about in periodicals. Captain
Medwin, with all the ardour and the affection that gracefully suit the
devoted friend, comes forward to preserve the eventful history of Shelley's
life from oblivion. The gallant Captain can write well and amusingly,
and one must admire the . noble spirit of friendship which pervades his
work. Yet, on the whole, it would, perhaps, have been better if this
book had not appeared, for its contents present a melancholy picture —
that of a wrong-minded and half-crazy, though amiable man, struggling
through an existence, made wretched by the result of his own wild
daring against the most sacred feelings of his fellow-men. Captain
Medwin throughout — we will not say, defends — but strongly palliates the
cause and conduct of Shelley. Yet, what do the facts of his story amount
to ? To no more than this. Shelley was a strange being from his
boyhood, and at the very dawn of his ability, he misapplied his talents.
He was expelled from Oxford for Atheism, and he was consequently
repulsed from his paternal home by his father, who never forgave him.
He ran away with his first wife, a girl not sixteen, from a boarding-
school ; he lived with her but for a few years, without affection ; he
coldly restored her to her relatives ; and he was refused the custody
of the children of the union, by a decree of Lord Chancellor Eldon.
The wife eventually committed suicide. His writings then separating
him in a great measure from society, he led a strange kind of wandering
life on the continent, until he arrived at the single oasis in his misery —
his marriage with the gifted daughter of Godwin. Yet, even when thus
wedded, how distant from felicity was Shelley's condition Captain Medwin
vainly endeavours to conceal. Finally, this man of misfortune suffers,
before the prime of life, an almost instantaneous death, by the sudden
immersion of his bark in the bay of Spezzia : probably

" Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath,
Heralded his way to death ;

E'er his very thought could pray, .

Unanel'd he passed away,
Without a hope from mercy's aid,
To the last a renegade."

LITERATURE. 579

By an accidental circumstance, in itself most singular, Shelley's body was
not interred, but burnt upon a funeral pyre. In death, as in life, there
was a Pagan aspect about him. Now, if we view the complete story of
Shelley's pitiful passage through existence, does it not seem signalled
by the terrible mark of Deity offended ? Such a tale, if to be read at
all, should be read to strengthen the holy conviction that where man
opposes his Maker, family, fame, and fortune become as naught ; his
life is without peace, his soul is a burthen, his mind a hell. With
these remarks, which naturally occurred to us on seeing this memoir of
Shelley, we proceed to look at Captain Med win's book more in detail.

Setting aside the tenor of the work, a great portion of its contents is
interesting and amusing. There is, too, less of that mawkish senti-
mentality, in which, we know not why, persons generally indulge when
writing about Shelley. The account, in the beginning, of Sir Bysshe
and Sir Timothy Shelley, the grandfather and father of the poet, is gra-
phically sketched : —

"On the 3rd of March, 1806, Bysshe, the grandfather, was raised to the
baronetage. He owed this distinction, if such it be, to Charles, Duke of
Norfolk, who wished, thereby, to win over to his party the Shelley interest in
the western part of the county of Sussex, and the Rape of Bramber, not to
mention Horsham, on which he had, at this period, electioneering designs.

" I remember Sir Bysshe well, in a very advanced age, a remarkably hand-
some man, fully six feet in height, and with a noble and aristocratic bearing.
Nilfuit unquam sic impar sibi. His manner of life was most eccentric, for he
used to frequent daily the tap-room of one of the low inns at Horsham, and
there drank with some of the lowest citizens, a habit he had j rob ably acquired
in the new world. Though he had built a castle (Goring Castle), that cost
him upwards of £80,000, he passed the last twenty or thirty years of his
existence in a small cottage, looking on the river Arum, at Horsham, in which
all was mean and beggarly — the existence, indeed, of a miser — enriching his
legatees at the expense of one of his sons, by buying up his post obits.

" In order to dispose of him, I will add, that his affectionate son Timothy,
received every morning a bulletin of his health, till he became one of the oldest
heir-apparents in England, and began to think his father immortal. God takes
those to him, \\ho are worth taking, early, and drains to the last sands in the
plass, the hours of the worthless and immoral, in order that they may reform
their ways. But his were unredeemed by one good action. Two of his
daughters, by the second marriage, led so miserable a life under his roof, that
they eloped from him ; a consummation he devoutly wished, as he, thereby,
found an excuse for giving them no dowries ; and though they were married
to two respectable men, and one had a numerous family, he made no mention
of either of them in his will.

" Shelley seems to have had him in his mind when he says : —

' He died—

He was bowed and bent with fears :
Pale with the quenchless thirst of gold,
Which, like fierce fever, left him weak,
And his straight lip and bloated cheek
Were wrapt in spasms by hollow sneers ;
And selfish cares, with barren plough,
Not age, had lined his narrow brow ;
And foul and cruel thoughts, which feed
• Upon the withered life within,

Like vipers upon some poisonous weed.'

Rosalind and Helen, p. 209.

580 LITERATURE.

" Yes, he died at last, and in his room was found bank notes to the amount
of £10,000, some in the leaves of the few books he possessed, others in the
folds of his sofa, or sewn into the lining of his dressing gown. But ' Ohe !
jam satis.1

" Timothy Shelley, his eldest son, and heir to the Shelley and Michell
estates, whose early education was much neglected, and who had originally been
designed to be sent to Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, which the great Sir
Philip Sidney founded — and to which his de cendant, and Timothy's half-
brother, Sir John, nominates the Master, President, or whatever the head of
the College may be called, entered himself at University College, Oxford, and
after the usual routine of academical studies, by which he little profited, made
The Grand Tour. He was one of those travellers, who, with so much waste
time, travel for the sake of saying they have travelled ; and, after making the
circuit of Europe, return home, knowing no more of the countries they have
visited than the trunks attached to their carriages. All, indeed, that he did
bring back with him was a smattering of French, and a bad picture of an
Eruption of Vesuvius, if we except a certain air, miscalled that of the old
school, which he could put off and on, as occasion served.

" He was a disciple of Chesterfield and La Rochefoucauld, reducing all
politeness to forms, and moral virtue to expediency ; as an instance of which,
he once told his son, Percy Bysshe, in my presence, that he would provide for
as many natural children as he chose to get, but that he never would forgive his
making a mesalliance ; a sentiment which excited in Shelley anything but re-
spect for his sire.

"This anecdote proves that the moral sense in Sir Timothy was obtuse;
indeed, his religious opinions were also very lax, although he occasionally went
to the parish church, and made his servants regularly attend divine service, he
possessed no true devotion himself, and inculcated none to his son and heir, so
that much of Percy Bysshe's scepticism may be traced to early example, if not
to precept. But I anticipate. Before Sir "Timothy, then Mr. Shelley, set out
on his Kuropean tour, he had engaged himself to Miss Pilfold (daughter of
Charles Pilfold, Esq., of Emngham Place), who had been brought up by her
aunt, Lady Ferdinand Pool, the wife of the well-known father of the turf, and
owner of ' Potoooooooo,' and the equally celebrated ' Waxy ' and ' Mealy.' "

It is rather curious that the legendary fiction of the Wandering Jew
should have such attraction for infidel writers. The recent blasphemous
romance in France brought the subject to a climax. Shelley had his turn
at the favorite theme : —

" Shelley having abandoned prose for poetry, now formed a grand design, a
metrical romance on the subject of the Wandering Jew, of which the first three
cantos were, with a few additions and alterations, almost entirely mine. It
was a sort of thing such as boys usually write, a cento from different favourite
authors ; the vision in the third canto, taken from Lewis's Monk, of which, in
common with Byron, he was a great admirer ; and the Crucifixion scene,
altogethor a plagiarism from a volume of Cambridge Prize Poems. The
part which I supplied is still in my possession. After seven or eight cantos
were perpetrated, Shelley sent them to Campbell for his opinion on their merits,
with a view to publication. The author of the Pleasures of Hope returned the
MS. with the remark, that there were only two good lines in it :

' It seemed as if an angel's sigh
Had breathed the plaintive symphony.'

Lines, by the way, savouring strongly of Walter Scott. This criticism of
Campbell's gave a death-blow to our hopes of immortality, and so little regard
did Shelley entertain for the production, that he left it at his lodgings in Edin-
burgh, where it was disinterred by some correspondent of Eraser's, and Ih whose
Magazine, in 1831, four of the cantos appeared. The others he very wisely
did not think worth publishing."

LITERATURE. 581

Shelley is thus personally described —

"We now come to another epoch in the life of the poet — Shelley, at
Oxford :—

" He was matriculated, and went to the University College at the com-
mencement of Michaelmas term, at the end of October 1810. The choice
of this college (though a respectable one, by no means of high repute) was made
by his father for two reasons — first, that he had himself, as already mentioned,
been a member of it, — and secondly, because it numbered among its benefactors
some of his ancestors, one of whom had founded an Exhibition. I had left the
University before he entered it, and only saw him once in passing through the
city. His rooms were in the corner, next to the hall of the principal quad-
rangle, on the first floor, and on the right of the entrance, by reason of the turn
in the stairs, when you reach them, they will be on the right hand. It is a
spot, which, I might venture to predict, many of our posterity will hereafter
reverently visit, and reflect an honour on that college, which has nothing so
great to distinguish it.' The portrait of him, drawn by his friend, from whom I
have borrowed largely, corresponded with my recollection of him at this interview.
'His figure was slight and fragile, and yet 'his bones and joint were large and
strong:. He was tall, but he stooped so much, that he seemed of low stature.'
De Quincey says, that he remembers seeing in London, a little Indian ink
sketch of him, in his academical costume of Oxford. The sketch tallying
pretty well with a verbal description which he had heard of him in some
company, viz., that he looked like an elegant and slender flower, whose head
drooped from being surcharged with rain.' Where is this sketch ? How
valuable would it be ! ' His clothes,' Mr. H. adds, ' were expensive, and, ac-
cording to the most approved mode of the day, they were tumbled, rumpled,
unbrushed. His gestures were abrupt, sometimes violent, occasionally even
awkward, yet more frequently gentle and graceful. His complexion was
delicate, and almost feminine, of the purest red and white, yet he was tanned
and freckled by exposure to the sum having passed the autumn, as he said,
in shooting ;' and he said rightly, for he had, during September, often carried a
gun in his father's preserves ; Sir Timothy being a keen sportsman, and Shelley
himself an excellent shot, for I well remember one day in the winter of 1809,
when we were out together, his killing at three successive shots, three snipes,
to my great astonishment and envy, at the tail of the pond in front of Field Place.
1 His features, his whole face, and his head were particularly small, yet the last
appeared of a remarkable bulk, for his hair was long and bushy, and in fits of
absence, and in the agonies (if I may use the word), of anxious thought, he often
rubbed it fiercely with his hands, passed his fingers swiftly through his locks,
unconsciously, so that it was singularly rough. and wild — a peculiarity which
he had at school. His features were not symmetrical, the mouth perhaps
excepted, yet was the effect of the whole extremely powerful. They breathed
an animation, — a fire — an enthusiasm — a vivid and preternatural intelligence,
that I never met with in any other countenance. Nor was the moral ex-
pression less beautiful than the intellectual, for there was a softness and delicacy,
a gentleness, and especially (though this will surprise many) an air of profound
veneration, that characterises the best works, and chiefly the frescoes (and
into these they infused their whole souls) of the great masters of Rome
and Florence.'

" * I observed, too, the same contradiction in his rooms, which I had often
remarked in his person and dress. The carpet, curtain, and furniture were
quite new, and had not passed through several generations of students on the pay-
ment of the thirds, that is, the third price last given. This general air of freshness
was greatly obscured by the indescribable confusion in which the various objects
were mixed. Scarcely a single article was in its right place — books, boots,
papers, shoes, philosophical instruments, clothes, pistols, linen, crockery, am-
munition, and phials innumerable, with money, stockings, prints, crucibles, bags,
and boxes, were scattered on the floor in every place, as if the young chemist, in
order to analyze the mystery of creation, had endeavoured first to recon-

582 LITERATURE.

struct the primaeval chaos. The tables, and especially the carpet, were already
stained with large spots of - various hues, which frequently proclaimed the
agencj7 of fire. An electrical machine, an air pump, the galvanic trough, a
solar microscope, and large glass jars and receivers, were conspicuous amidst
the mass of matter. Upon the table, by his side, were some books lying
open, a bundle of new pens, and a bottle of japan ink, with many chips, and
a handsome razor, that had been used as a knife. There were bottles of soda-
water, sugar, pieces of lemon, and the traces of an effervescent beverage.

" ' Such, with some variations, was, as they come back on me, the appearance
of Shelley and his rooms during this visit to him in the November of 1810. ' "

Can Captain Medwin be serious when he classes Shelley with Milton
and Pope, or when he makes him form a trio of celebrity with Shake-
speare and Schiller, or places him above Collins and Otway ?
Such comparison is ridiculous. The author of " The Pleasures of
Hope," boldly declared that Shelley was no poet at all, and
there are undeniably many who go to nearly the length of the
opinion. Take from Shelley's writings the daring nature of his lan-
guage, which has an execrable zest for some ; take, also, away his pro-
minent connexion with an unworthy class, and his association with Lord
Byron, and we maintain that much of his attraction ceases. In proof,
how seldom are even his innoxious verses now-a-days read ? Shelley's
main feature was his infidelity ; he was little remarkable without it.
Not so Byron, who was in his very essence great : his anti-religion,
when it occurred, came as a foul deformity. It was the only speck upon
his sun — the only dimming spot upon the matchless beauty of his verse.

But we digress ; let us return to the memoir. The following episode
is elegantly written : —

" P was amico di casa and confessor to a noble family, one of the most

distinguished for its antiquity of any at Pisa, where its head then filled a post
of great authority. By his first countess he had two grown-up daughters, and
in his old age had the boldness, the audacity I might say, to take unto him a
wife not much older than either. The lady, whose beauty did not rival that of
the Count's children, was naturally jealous of their charms, and deemed them
dangerous rivals in the eyes of her Cavaliere ; and exerting all her influence
over her infatuated husband, persuaded him, though their education was com-
pleted, to immure them in two convents (pensions, I should say, or as they are
called, conservatories) in his native city. The Professor, who had known them
from infancy, and been their instructor in languages and polite literature, made
the Contessinas frequent subjects of conversation. He told us that the father
was not over rich, owing to his young wife's extravagance ; that he was
avaricious withal, and did not like to disburse their dowries, which, as fixed by
law, must be in proportion to the father's fortune, and was waiting till some one
would take them off his hands without a dote. He spoke most enthuiastically
of the beauty and accomplishments of Emilia, the eldest, adding, that she had

been confined for two years in the convent of St. A . * Poverina,' he said,

with a deep sigh, 'she pines like a bird in a cage — ardently longs to escape from
her prison-house, — pines with ennui, and wanders about the corridors like an
unquiet spirit ; she sees her young days glide on without an aim or purpose.
She was made for love. Yesterday she was watering some flowers in her
cell — she has nothing else to love but her flowers — ' Yes,' said she, ad-
dressing them, 'you are born to vegetate, but we thinking beings were
made for action — not to be penned up in a corner, or set at a window to

blow and die.' A miserable place is that convent of St. A ,' he added ;

' and if you had seen, as I have done, the poor pensionnaires shut up in that
narrow, suffocating street, in the summer, (for it does rot possess a garden,)
and in the winter as now, shivering with cold, being allowed nothing to warm

LITERATURE. 583

them but a few ashes, which they carry about in an earthen vase, — you would
pity them.'

" This little story deeply interested Shelley, and P proposed that the

poet and myself should pay the captive a visit in the parloir.

" The next day, accompanied by the priest, we came in sight of ^he gloomy,
dark convent, whose ruinous and dilapidated condition told too plainly of con-
fiscation and poverty. It was situate in an unfrequented street in the suburbs,
not far from the wails. After passing through a gloomy portal, that led to a
quadrangle, the area of which was crowded with crosses, memorials of old
monastic times, we were soon in the presence of Emilia. The fair recluse
reminded me (and with her came the remembrance of Mephisto) of Margaret.

" ' Time seemed to her

To crawl with shackled feet, and at her window
She stands, and watches the heavy clouds on clouds,
Passing in multitudes o'er the old town-walls.
And all the day, arid half the night she sings,
4 Oh, would I were a little bird !' At times
She 's cheerful, — but the fit endures not long,
For she is mostly sad, — then she '11 shed tears, —
And after she has wept her sorrows out,
She is as quiet as a child.'

" Emilia was indeed lovely and interesting. Her profuse black hair, tied in
the most simple knot, after the manner of a Greek Muse in the Florence gallery,
displayed to its full height, her brow, fair as that of the marble of which I speak.
" She was also of about the same height as the antique. Her features possessed
a rare faultlessness, and almost German contour, the nose and forehead making
a straight line, — a style of face so rare, that I remember Bartolini's telling
Byron that he had scarcely an instance of such in the numerous casts of busts
which his studio contained. Her eyes had the sleepy voluptuousness, if not
the colour, of Beatrice Cenci's. They had, indeed, no definite colour, changing
with the changing feeling, to dark or light, as the soul animated them. Her
cheek was pale, too, as marble owing to her confinement and want of air, or per-
haps * to thought.' There was a lark in the parloir, that had lately been caught.
4 Poor prisoner,' said she, looking at it compassionately, ' you will die of grief !
How I pity thee ! What must thou suffer, when thou nearest in the clouds,
the songs of thy parent birds, or some flocks of thy kind on the wing, in search
of other skies — of new fields — of new delights! But like me, thou wilt be forced
to remain here always — to wear out thy miserable existence here. Why can I
not release thee ?

" Might not Shelley have taken from this pathetic lamentation, his —

" ' Poor captive bird ! who from thy narrow cage,
Pourest such music as might well assuage
The rugged hearts of those who prisoned thee,
Were they not deaf to thy sweet melody ? '

and the sequel, —

" ' High spirit-winged heart ! who dost for ever]
Beat thine unfeeling bars with vain endeavour,
** Till thy panting, wounded breast,
Stains with dear blood its unmaternal nest.'

" Such was the impression of the only visit I paid Emilia ; but I saw her
some weeks after, at the end of a carnival, when she had obtained leave to
visit Mrs. Shelley, accompanied by the abbess. In spite of the contessina's
efforts to assume cheerfulness, one might see she was very, very sad; but
she made no complaint ; she had grown used, to suffering — it had becoaie her
element,"

" But Emilia's term of bondage was about to expire ; she was affianced to a

VOL. IV., NO. XX. T T

584 LITERATURE.

man whom she had never seen, and who was incapable of appreciating her
talents and virtues. She was about to be removed from the scenes of her
youth, the place of her birth, her father on whom she doted, and to be buried
in the Mahremma. The day of her wedding was fixed, but a short respite took
place for a reason mentioned in a letter of Shelley to Mrs. Shelley (from
Ravenna), where he says, ' Have you heard anything of my poor Emelia ?
from whom I got a letter the day of my departure, saying, that her marriage
was deferred on account of the illness of her sposo ' and in another letter he
expresses, what in the fragment of Genevra, too well typified the fate of that
unfortunate lady, the poor sacrificed Emilia, — his fears as to what she was
destined to suffer. The sacrifice was at length completed, and she was soon as
much forgotten as if she had never existed — though not by Shelley.

" I am enabled to detail the consequences of this ill-starred union, to finish

her biography. Some years after, P , who had several times during his

feverish existence, been reduced to abject poverty and distress, by his reckless
extravagance, his rage for travelling, though his journeys never extended beyond
Leghorn on the one hand, and Florence on the other, and where he used to
indulge in all manner of excesses, and which brought about the same result,
the sequestration of h's ecclesiastical preferment, and imprisonment by his
creditors till his debts were liquidated — made his appearance at the capital of
Tuscany, where I then was. He found at Florence a wider field for his
operations, and shewed himself a not less active and busy-body Diavolo
incarnate. He did not forget our old acquaintanceship at Shelley's, and haunted
me like an unquiet spirit. One day, when at my house, he said mysteriously, —
* I will introduce you to an old friend — come with me.' The coachman was
ordered to drive to a part of the city with which I was a stranger, and drew up
at a country house in the suburbs. The villa, which at once boasted con-
siderable pretensions, was in great disrepair. The court, leading to it, over-
grown with weeds, proved that it had been for some years untenanted. An old
woman led us through a number of long passages and rooms, many of the
windows in which were broken, and let in the cold blasts from ' the wind-swept
A pennine ;' and opening at length a door, ushered us into a chamber, where
a small bed and a couple of chairs formed the whole furniture. The couch
was covered with white gauze curtains, to exclude the gnats ; behind them
was lying a female form. She immediately recognised me— was, probably,
prepared for my visit — and extended her thin hand to me in greeting. So
changed that recumbent figure, that I could scarcely recognise a trace of the
once beautiful Emilia. Shelley's evil augury had been fulfilled — she had found
in her marriage all that he had predicted; for six years she led a life of pur-
gatory, and had at length broken the chain, with the consent of her father ;
who had lent her this long disused and dilapidated Campagne. I might fill
many a page by speaking of the tears she shed over the memory of Shelley, —
but enough — she did not long enjoy her freedom. Shortly after this interview,
she was confined to her bed ; the seeds of malaria, which had been sown in
the Mahremma, combined with th it all-irremediable malady — broken-hearted-
ness, brought on rapid consumption.

' And so she pined, and so she died forlorn.'

The old woman who had been her nurse, made me a long narration of her last
moments, as she wept bitterly. I wept too, when I thought of Shelley's Psyche,
and his Epipsychidion."

With this pretty extract, separate from the main course of the work,
we conclude our notice, and, in doing so, we reassert that, despite of its
able writing and its interest, we should rather have had this book un-
published. While Shakespeare, and Milton, and Cowper, and other
pure, undying lights illuminate the land — while Pope and Byron must,
too, shine brilliantly on, because of the good and the greatness that
lie amongst their evil, we may surely suffer Shelley, and the unsafe
emanations of his brain, to be mercifully forgotten.

LITERATURE. 585

NEW CURIOSITIES OF LITERATURE AND BOOK OF THE MONTHS. By.
GEORGE SOANE, B.A. London, E. Churton, 1847.

DISRAELI rendered "the Curiosities of Literature " so interesting, that
Mr. Soane has done well to avail himself of the attraction the very title
affords. Here, however, the resemblance between the two writers ends.
Their objects are altogether different, and their plan and style equally
dissimilar. For the anecdotal, gossiping pages of the senior illustrator,
Mr. Soane offers deep research, great antiquarian knowledge, and a
thorough acquaintance with the ceremonies, customs, and manners of the
olden time, from which patient investigation and extensive reading have
enabled him to elicit facts of the deepest interest to the historical en-
quirer.

The book comprises twelve divisions, each devoted to a particular
month, descriptive of its origin, name, Saints' days, festivals, traditions,
and customs ; antiquarian and historical illustrations enrich every descrip-
tion, and the whole forms one of the most valuable works that has for
a length of time issued from the press.

We can make but one extract, and that shall refer to the coming
festival of Christmas : —

"CHRISTMAS EVE; December 24th. — In the primitive church Christmas
Day was always observed as a Sabbath, and hence, like other Lord's- Days, it
was preceded by an Eve or Vigil as an occasion of preparing for the day follow-
ing. No festival of the church was attended by more popular superstitions
and observances, the ceremonies of the Saturnalia from which it was derived
being improved upon by Christian and Druidical additions. The day of this
Vigil was passed in the ordinary manner, but with the evening the sports
began ; about seven or eight o'clock hot cakes were drawn from the oven ; ale,
cyder, and spirits, went freely round ; and the carol-singing commenced, which
was continued through the greater part of the night.

"The connection of -this festival with the Roman Saturnalia has never been
disputed by those competent to form a judgment, and in some existing ob-
servances in Franconia the traces of it are undeniable. In the nights of the
three Thursdays preceding the nativity, the young of either sex go about
beating at the doors of the houses singing the near birth of our Saviour, and
wishing the inhabitants a happy new year, for which, in return, they are pre-
sented with pears, apples, nuts, and money. With what joy in the churches not
only the priests, but the people also, receive the birth-day of Christ may be
inferred from this, — that the image of a new-born child being placed upon the
altar, they dance and chaunt as they circle round it, while the elders sing
much as the Corybantes are fabled to have exulted about the crying Jove in
the cavern of Mount Ida.

" In addition to what has been here advanced, we have the unquestionable
authority of Bede for asserting that it had been observed in this country long
before by the heathen Saxons. They called it, he says, the Mother-Night, or
Night of Mothers, and probably on account of the ceremonies used by them
during their vigil. But, in fact, though particular portions of this festival may
be traced to the Romans or to the ancient Saxons, the root of the whole affair
lies much deeper, and is to be sought in far remoter periods. It was clearly
in its origin an astronomical observance to celebrate the Winter Solstice and
the consequently approaching prolongation of the days, as is demonstrated by
the emblematic Christmas candles and Yule-logs, the symbols of increasing
light and heat.

"" CHRISTMAS DAY.— December 25. There is much doubt as to the origin of
this festival. The earliest churchman who makes any mention of it is Theo -

T T 2

586 LITERATURE.

philus, bishop of Antioch, about the year 170, in his paschal letter, and for the
first four centuries it was far from being universally celebrated. It is even a
matter of great uncertainty when it should be kept, and Cassian tells us that
the Egyptians observed the Epiphany, the Nativity, and Baptism of Christ on
the same day ; while modern chronologists, at the head of whom is Scaliger,
agree that Christ was born at the end of September or the beginning of Octo-
ber, about the time of the Jewish Feast of the Tabernacles.

" In the earlier ages this day was called in the Eastern Church the Epiphany,
or Manifestation of the. Light, a name which was subsequently given to Twelfth
Night. On this occasion it was used allusively to the birth of Christ, and
hence also came the custom, which prevailed in the ancient, church, of
lighting up candles at the reading of the gospels even at mid-day, partly
to testify the general joy, and partly to symbolize the new light that was
shining on mankind. The fact is incidently mentioned by Jerome while
defending the worship of relicks and dead men's bones against the at-
tacks of Vigilantius, who, it seems had loudly protested against any such
practice on the heretical plea that the intercession of the saints was useless.
But Vigilantius was altogether a doubtful character ; he maintained that it was
idle to burn wax-tapers by day-light, that alms ought not to be sent to Jerusa-
lem, that clerical celibacy was abominable, and the retirement of monks into
the deserts and solitudes was no better. No wonder that the wrath of the
mild and gentle Jerome should blaze forth as it did against such doctrines as
these ; a saint may be provoked, if we can believe the proverb.

*' This day was also called Theopany, which means much the same thing as
Epiphany, but which can hardly be traced beyond the time of St. Basil.

" Christmas would also appear to have been called Noel or Nowel, though
this latter word was used with three or four very different meanings.

" First, it signified the season of Christmas, that is to say the time of the
festival commemorative of Christ's nativity ; thus in the old French proverb, on
atant crie Noel qu'enfin il est venu — literally, we have cried out Christmas so
long that it has come at last — but meaning to imply we have talked of a thing
so long that at last it has happened.

" Secondly, it signifies a carol, when that word is restricted in its use to a
song, or hymn upon the nativity, but, as we shall presently see, the carol was
sung at other seasons also ; thus for example, Les Noels du Sieur" Francois
CMetet sont de plaisans Noels.

" Thirdly, it signifies news or tidings; as for instance,

" -* I come from Heaven to tell

The best noweliks that ever befell ;
To you this tythings trewe I bring.'

" Fourthly, it .was used merely as an exclamation of joy, if, indeed, it would
not still seem to be employed as before, News ! news ! thus, —

" ' Nowell ! nowell ! nowell ! nowell !

Who ys ther that syngyt so, nowell ! nowell ? '

But though this would appear to be one and the same word, only used in
different senses, I cannot help suspecting that we have two words sprung from
very different roots and corrupted by time into the same mode of writing and
pronouncing. Noel, when signifying ' tidings,' is likely enough to have come
from the French nouvelles, though I would not venture to affirm it ; but in the
other cases, I have no doubt whatever as to its origin ; and in defiance of so
many opposite derivations assert that Noel is neither more nor less than a cor-
ruption of Yole, Yule, Gule, or Ule, for it was written in all these ways ; the
addition of N to words beginning with a vowel is so common in our old writers
that few can be ignorant of it, and the phrase is just as applicable to Christ-
mas as it was to Midsummer, seeing that at either time it bore a reference to
the solstice. From having been used to designate Christmas, we may easily
imagine how it came to be applied to the songs of the season, and even from
frequent repetition to become a mere cry of joy. I am the more confirmed in

LITERATURE. 587

my notion by the fact that yol, or yule, so repeatedly occurs as a simple ex-
clamation, either to express boisterous mirth or as an accompaniment to some
superstitious ceremony. As to Todd's derivation of the word from the Hebrew
GNOUL, a child, it is too absurd for argument.

" Among the Anglo-Saxons this day was the beginning of the year ; and in
the shows of a later, but still remote, time, Christmas was personified in his
pageant by ' an old man hung round with savoury dainties.'

"No sooner had midnight passed, and the Day of the Nativity commenced,
than the people hastened to welcome it with carols, and these, as Bourne tells
us, were ' generally sung with some others from the nativity to the Twelveth
Day, the continuance of Christmas.' In the present day, the place of the
carols is supplied amongst the higher and middling classes by tunes played just
before midnight by the so-called Waits, whilst the carols themselves are
annually published in the humblest form, and with the coarsest wood cuts, for
amusement of the people.

" On the Christmas Day these carols used at one time to take the place of
psalms in the churches, and more particularly at the afternoon service, the
whole congregation joining in them. At the end of the carol the clerk would
declare, in a loud voice, his wishes for a merry Christmas and a happy new
year to all the parishioners.

" Carol-singing was, and still is, a custom on the continent, as we find men-
tioned in Lady Morgan's ITALY ; and, though now it is confined with us to the
humbler classes, yet in former times it amused the highest. ' At the table,'
says Leland, 'in the medell of the hall sat the Deane and thoos of the king's
chapell, whiche incontynently after the king's furst course singe a caralV

" In conclusion, so far as regards this part of my subject, I am tempted to
say a few words upon the etymology of CAROL. Johnson would seem to be un-
questionably right in deducing it from the Italian, carola, though carola does
not mean a song, but ' a round dance accompanied by song,' being itself de-
rived from the Greek %op6s or the Latin chorus, both of which equally sig-
nified mixture of song and dance. It is true that carol is restricted in its
meaning to song only, but precisely the same limitation of sense has happened
with the word chorus, which has been borrowed from the same original, and
which yet, with us, excludes all idea of dancing. The only thing that appears
to militate against the supposition is, that we have in the middle-age Latinity
the word carola with four very different meanings. In the barbarous language
of the cloisters, it signified : — 1st, a balustrade or railing — 2ndly, a procession
around chapels enclosed within railings — 3rdly, a chest to hold writing materials,
with a lock and key, such as was forbidden to be kept in the monks* dormitories
without especial permission of the Abbot — and lastly, it was used for some
smaller specimens of gold or silver work, but of what particular kind it is
impossible to say. Now the connexion between this word and our carol is by
no means evident, and yet, the two being so exactly similar in sound and
spelling, one cannot altogether get rid of the idea of their somehow being
the same, though to all appearance so completely sundered by difference of
meaning.

" The earliest known collection of carols supposed to have been published is
only known from the last leaf of a volume, printed by Wynkin de Worde in
1521. It is now in the Bodleian Library, and has two carols upon it; the
one ' a caroll of huntynge' reprinted in the last edition of Juliana Berners'
4 Boke of St. Albans ;' the other, a ' Caroll on bringing up a bore's head to
the table on Christmas Day,' which is given by Ritson in the second volume
of his Ancient Songs, p. 14. The carol, however, as it is now heard at Queen's
College, Oxford, differs much from the old version, and is sung every Christmas
Day in the Hall to the common chaunt of the prose version of the psalms in
Cathedrals.*

* The Carol (as given by Ritson.)

Caput apri defero
Reddens laudes Domino.

588

LITERATURE.

The bores-heed in hand bring I,
With garlands gay and rosemary ;
I pray you all synge merely,

Qui estis in concivio.

The bores-heed, I understande,
Is the chefe servyce in this lande ;
Loke wherever it be fonde,

Servite cum cantico.

Be gladde, lordes, both more and lasse,
For this hath ordeyned our stewarde
To chere you all this Christmasse,
The bores-heed with mustarde.

The Carol as sung at Queen's College, Oxford, and given in Dibdins
Ames. Vol. ii. p. 252.

The boar's-head in hand bear I,
Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary ;
And I pray you, my masters, be merry,
Quot estis in convivio.
Caput Apri defero
Reddens laudes Domino.

The boar's-head, as I understand,
Is the rarest dish in all this land,
Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland
Let us servire cantico.
Caput Apri defero
Reddens laudes Domino.

Our steward hath provided this
In honour of the King of Bliss,
Which on this day to be serv'd is
In reginensi atrio.

Caput Apri defero

Reddens laudes Domino.

58$

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Anderson, Mrs. Mary, of Belle Vue,

Coupar Angus, co. Perth, widow of Dr.

John Anderson, 2nd Nov.
Ashwell, Mrs. James, of Tonbridge Wells,

15th Nov.
Attwood, W., Esq., of Brompton Row,

1st Nov., aged 65.

Bailey, Thomas, Esq., of Limehouse, Sur-
geon, 10th Nov., aged 59.
Banks, Lydia, wife of W. H. Banks, Esq.,

R.N., 29th Oct., at Gosport.
Barlow, Geo. Francis, Esq., of the Manor

House, Brompton, 6th Nov., aged 74.
Bassan, Mrs. Ann, widow of Joseph Bas-

san, Esq., Surgeon, R.N., 4th Nov.
Becket, Charles, only son of C. A. Becket,

Esq., of Gravesend, 9th Nov.
Beddington, Mrs. Edward, of Stockton

Court, co. Worcester, 4th Nov., aged

74.
Begbie, Mary Hamilton, wife of Major

Thomas Stirling Begbie, 29th Oct.,

aged 56.

Berkeley, Mary, relict of the late Row-
land Berkeley, Esq., of Benefield, co.

Northampton, 30th Oct., aged 81.
Bettesworth, James Trevannion, Esq.,

A.D.C. to Major Gen. Bambrigge,

C.B., 14th Nov.
Blackett, Powell Charles, Esq., Surgeon,

K.N., 6th Nov., aged 60.
Bolland, the Rev. William, 29th May, at

New Plymouth, New Zealand, aged 27.
Brabant, Catherine Mary, dau. of W. II.

Brabant, Esq., 25th Oct., aged 5.
Brenchley, John, Esq., of Waulass How,

co. Westmoreland, 10th Nov., aged 68.
Brereton, Mrs. Sarah, of Richmond Ter-
race, Paddington, 23d Oct.
Brooks, Thomas Beedle, Esq., of the In-
ner Temple, Barrister-at-Law. 15th

Nov.
Brown, John, Esq., of Sudbury Hill

House, Harrow, 27th Oct., aged 82.
Brown, Thomas, Esq., late Surgeon at

Berkhampstead, 5th Now.
Burn, Henry, Esq., of Brixton, 9th Nov.,

aged 60.
Burton, Lieut.-Col. of the Royal Marines,

26th Oct., aged 63.
Butler, Harriett, widow of Colonel R. W.

Butler, Bengal Artillery, 1st Nov.
Butler, Thomas, only son of the late Thos.

Butler, Esq., of Trinity Square, 13th

Nov.

Byng, Miss, elder sister of the late Gea.
Byng, Esq., M.P., 29th Oct.

Chambers, William, Esq., Com. R.N.,
27th Oct., aged 45. Captain Cham-
bers was eldest son of the late Sir Sa-
muel Chambers, of Bredgar House,
Kent, by Barbara, his wife, dau. of the
Hon. Philip Roper, and nephew of Mr.
Chambers, the Banker, of Bond-street,
whose misfortunes are so well known.

Chisenhale, John Chisenhale, Esq., at Ar-
ley Hall, Lancashire, 27th Oct., aged
58. This gentleman, whose patrony-
mic was Johnson, assumed the surname
of Chisenhale on succeeding to the es-
tates of his maternal ancestors, one of
whom was the famous Colonel Chisen-
hale, so distinguished as one of the de-
fenders of Lathom House, under the
heroic Countess of Derby.

Chisholm, Alexander, Esq., Cor. Mem.
F.S.A., Sc., at Rothsay, Isle of Bute.

Clarke, Charlotte, relict of William
Stanley Clarke, Esq., 12th Nov., at
Letherhead, aged 70.

Cochrane, Maria, relict of James Cocli-
rane, Esq., at Wilton- street, 7th Nov.

Cole, Lady Frances, relict of the late
Gen. the Hon. Sir I. LoAvry Cole,, 1st
Nov., aged 64. Her Ladyship was re-
lict of the late eminently distinguished
officer, Sir Galbraith Lowry Cole, and
second dau. of James, 1st Earl of Mal-
mesbury, the celebrated diplomatist of
the reign of George III. Lady Frances
was born 22nd of August, 1784, and
married 15th June, 1815. She leaves
three sons (the eldest, Arthur Lowry
Cole, a Captain in the 69th), and four
daughters.

Coleman, Mathew Leonard, Esq., of the
War office, 23d Oct, aged 67.

Collett, Christopher Theophilus, Esq., of
Magdalen Hall, Oxon., fourth son of
the late Rev. Robert Collett, M.A., of
Westerham, Kent, 19th Oct., aged 22.

Cooper, Major-Gen. George, command-
ing the Durapore division of the Ben^
gal Army, 27th Aug., aged 67.

Cornwallis, the Countess of, 4th Nov.,
aged 37. The death of this estimable
lady took place at St. Leonard's-on-
Sea, after a lengthened illness, at the
early age of thirty-seven. Her Lady-
ship was fourth daughter of Thomas

590

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Bacon, Esq., of Eedlands, Berkshire,
and became, on the 4th of August,
1842, the third wife of the present Earl
Cornwallis, by whom she leaves an only
child, the Lady Julia Mann Cornwal-
lis, an infant of three years old.
Courthope, the Kev. William, Kector of

Westmeston, &c., 29th Oct.,, aged 79.
Coverdale, Mrs. John, of Bedford Row,

16th Nov.

Crawley, John Eichard, only son of Am-
brose Crawley, Esq., E.I.C.S., Madras,
at Rochlitz, Saxony, 26th Sept., aged
30.

Crompton, Claude Alexander, son of
Joshua S. Crompton, Esq., of Sion Hill,
co. York, 18th Nov., aged 9.
Cruden, Robert Peirce, Esq., at Milton,

next Gravesend, 30th Oct., aged 72.
Deason, Margaret, relict of the late Rev.
Thomas Deason, Rector of Whitworth,
co. Durham, 5th Nov.
Deffell, John Henry, Esq., of Upper Har-

ley-street, 28th Oct., aged 70.
Dennet, Captain C., E.I.C.S., 16th Nov.,

aged 45.

Dibdin, the Rev. Thomas Frognall, D.D.,
Rector of St. Mary's, &c., Bryanstone-
square, 18th Nov., aged 72.
Dick, Frederick Lacy, Esq., Magistrate
of the Court of Negombo, Ceylon, se-
cond surviving son of Samuel Dick,
Esq., of Upper Mount Bonchurch, Isle
of Wight, 27th Aug., aged 32. He
was shot by an unseen hand, while in
pursuit of a notorious burglar.
Dickenson, the Rev. Robert, M.A., Rec-
tor of Headley, Hants., 1st Nov., aged
78.
Dillon, the Rev. R. C. Dillon, D.D., 8th

Nov., aged 52.
Dizi, F., Esq., of Albert -street, Regent's

Park, at Paris, 23rd Oct., aged 67.
Dobull, Richard John, Esq., at Plymouth,

13th Nov, aged 60.

Dorme, Edward John, only son of E.

Dorme, Esq., of Woodlands, Sussex,

and Upper Harley-street, 15th Nov.,

aged 28.

Dorville, Lieut.-Colonel Philip, C.B.,

10th Nov., aged 74.

Drink water, Mary Anne, late of War-
rington, dau. of the late Peter Drink-
water, Esq., of Latchford, 2nd Nov.,
aged 75.

Dunn, Robert, Esq., at Howden, 29th Oct.
Dyer, John C. W., Esq., Surgeon, eldest
son of Captain G. L. Dyer, formerly of
the 65th Regiment, and of Almvick,
15th Nov., aged 38.
Edwards, Edward, Esq., 14th June.
Egelstone, Elizabeth, eldest dau. of the
late James Egelstone, Esq., of Wind-
sor, 17th Nov.

Elliott, Captain H., Ej.c.S., at Worm-
ley, Herts., 9th Nov., aged 73.
Elsgood, Mrs. Martha, of Brook-street,

15th Nov., aged 63.

Enony, Mr. John William Joseph, jun.,
Student of Medicine, University, Lon-
don, 25th Oct.
Escombe, William, Esq., Bombay Civil

Service, at Marseilles, 23d Oct.
Fagan, Maria, widow of Major-General
Christopher Fagan, E.I. C.S., and se-
cond dau. of the Rev. Charles Gibbon,
of Lonmay, N.B., 5th Nov.
Flood, Valentine, Esq., M.D., formerly of
Dublin, 19th Oct.

Fortescue, Hester, Dowager Countess of,
13th Nov., aged 87. The Right Hon.
Hester Countess Fortescue, was third
daughter of the famous politician,
George Grenville, and sister of George,
first Marquis of Buckingham. Her
Ladyship was born the 30th Nov. 1760;
she married the 10th May, 1782, Hugh,
third Baron and first Earl Fortescue,
by whom she had three sons and six
daughters. The present Earl is her
eldest son, and among her daughters
are Lady King, Lady Newton Feliowes,
Lady Ann Wilbraham, Lady Williams,
and Lady Courtenay. The Countess
Dowager Fortescue died, after a pro-
longed illness, at Meare Gifford, the
family seat, in Devonshire, at the ad-
vanced age of nearly 87.

Fourdrinier, Mr. Sealy, one of the paten-
tees of the paper machine, and the chief
introducer into this country of the pre-
sent manufacture of paper, 27th Oct.,
aged 76.

Freeman, Mrs. Margt,. eldest dau. of the
late Arthur Freeman, Esq., of the
Island of Antigua, 8th Nov.

Gardner, Isabella, relict of the late Rich-
ard Gardner, Esq., of Mecklenburgh-
square, and of Stokeshall, Essex, 20th
Oct.

Gibb, Lieut. H. W., Bombay Artillery,
second son of H. S. Gibb, Esq., of
Rugby, 3rd Sept., at Kuralce, Scinde.

Gillmore, Capt, John, Bengal Engineers,
24th August, at Mhow, India.

Glenie, the Venerable Archdeacon, 23rd
August, at Ceylon, aged 64.

Grassett, William, Esq., late Capt. 7th
Hussars, eldest son of the late William
Grassett, Esq., of Ovenden House,
Kent, 31st Oct., aged 34.

Grissell, Thomas de la Garde, Esq., late
of the East India House, 28th Oct.,
aged 70.

Grover, Capt. John, F.R.S., &c., 6th
Nov., at Brussels.

Haggard, Elizabeth, relict of William
Haggard, Esq., of Bradenham 'Hall,

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

591

Norfolk, and dau. of the late James
Meybhon, of St. Petersburgh, 1st. Nov.

Haines, Parton, Esq., of Devonport, 26th
Oct., aged 71.

Hall, Walter, Esq., of James-street, and
RufFside, co. Durham, 14th Nov., aged
81.

Hall, Benjamin, Esq., of Buxted Lodge,
near Uckfield, Sussex, 10th Nov., aged
66.

Hall, Kobert Willis, Esq., of Ravens-
bourne Park, Lewisham, 9th Nov.,
aged 64.

Hamilton, J. J. E., Esq., only son of Ad-
miral Sir Edward Hamilton, Bart.,
K.C.B., 2nd Nov., aged 39.

Harrison, Mary Beale, second dau. of R.
Tarrant Harrison, Esq., of the Middle
Temple, 17th Nov., aged 14.

Hay, Mrs. Anne, of Upper Seymour-
street, Portman-square, llth Nov., aged

Hexter, William, Esq., late of Eton Col-
lege, J. P. and D. L. for Bucks, 8th
Nov., at Cheltenham, aged 76.

Hibbert, Lieut.-Col. George, C.B., com-
manding 40th Regt., 12thNov., aged 57.

Hick, Mary, relict of William Franklin
Hick, Esq., of Lewes, 10th Nov.j aged
81.

Hinrich, Sir Henry Bromley, of Court
Garden, Marlow, 19th Oct., aged 56.
Sir Henry was son of Charles Robert
Hinrich, Esq., by his wife, Anne Char-
lotte Thwaits. The honour of knight-
hood he received 13th Sept., 1831, at
the coronation of William IV., being
then Lieutenant of the Band of Gen-
tlemen-at- Arms. He married in 1828,
Miss Eliza Susanna Dent, and had is-
sue two sons and five daughters. The
worthy Knight resided, chiefly, at
Bisham Cottage, near Marlow, Bucks.

Holt, Jane, relict of the late F. L. Holt,
Esq., Q.C., Vice-Chancellor of the co.
Palatine of Lancaster, 25th Oct.

Hough, the Rev. James, M.A., Minister
of Ham, Surrey, 2nd Nov., at Hast-
ings.

Houghton, George Murray, only son of
George Houghton, Esq., of Leicester,
15th Nov., aged 27.

Hubbock, Helen, dau. of the late Tho-
mas Hubbock, Esq., of Wellclose-square,
llth Nov.

Hunt, Miss Mary Caroline, of Wadenhoe,
co. Northampton, 30th Oot,

Hunter, Mrs. Sarah, relict of Thomas
Hunter, Esq., of Jersey, 5th Nov.,
aged 76.

Jackson, Thomas, Esq., of Upper Park-
street, Islington, 9th Nov.

Jackson, Mr. Postle, Proprietor of the
Ipswich Journal, 15th Nov., aged 69.

Johnston, Maria, relict of Sir William
Johnston, Bart., of Hiltown, co. Aber-
deen, 27th Oct.

Kay, Thomas, eldest son of the late Tho-
mas Kay, Esq., Merchant, Antwerp,
aged 29, at Alexandria.

Keene, Charles, Esq., of Sussex-place,
Regent's Park, 26th Oct.

Kelaart, Fanny Sophia, wife of Dr. Edw.
Frederick Kelaart, Medical Staff, dau.
of the late Phineas Hussey, Esq., of
Wrysley Grove, co. Stafford, aged 31,
Oct. 31. Her infant son died two days
previously.

Kenderley, George, Esq., atWhitechurch,
Oxon., 30th Oct., aged 81.

Lake, Rev. Atwill, Rector of West Wal-
ton, Norfolk, 8th Nov., aged 72.

Lake, Clara Montagu, dau. of Capt. A.
Lake, Madras Engineers, 2nd Nov.,
aged 10 months.

Laughton, Ann Agnes, wife of Richard
Laughton, Esq., East India Company's
Service, 5th Nov., aged 60.

Lewes, Alfred Thomas Sayer, son of the
late Samuel Lewes, Esq., of Deptford,
26th Oct., at Penzance, aged 30.

Lewis, Mrs., of Peckham Rye, 6th Nov.

Ley, Mary, dau. of John Henry Lee,
Esq., of Richmond Terrace, Whitehall,
4th Nov.

Lindsell, Henrietta Sarah, youngest dau.
of W. B. Lindsell, Esq., of Dane John
Grove, Canterbury, 26th Oct.

Lloyd, Henry, Esq., of Hastings, formerly
of the East India House, 12th Nov.,
aged 43.

Long, John, youngest son of the late
James Long, Esq., of the Royal Ex-
change, 16th Nov., aged 46.

Lowrey, Camilla, relict of the late Robert
Lowrey, Esq., at Farnham, Surrey,
22nd Oct.

Luke, John, eldest son of the late John
Luke, Esq., of Camberwell, 7th Nov.,
aged 26.

M'Cullagh, James, L.L.D. The melan-
choly death of this learned and distin-
guished professor, who perished by his
own hand, at his rooms, in Dublin
College, on the 23rd Oct., has cast a
deep gloom over the literary and scien-
tific circles in which he moved. Dr.
M'Cullagh, who was only forty years
of age at the period of his decease, was
fonnerly Mathematical Professor in the
University of Dublin, and succeeded,
in 1843, on the elevation of Dr. Lloyd
to the Senior Fellowship, to the Chair
of Natural Philosophy. It would ap-
pear from the evidence at the inquest
that his reason had been unsettled by
intense application to some intricate
problem, unaccompanied by that due

592

ANNOTATED OB1TUAKY.

regard to the regulating of his health,
rendered imperative by his sedentary
habits and mental labours.

Mackenzie, Mrs. Alexander, of Woolwich,
28th Oct., aged 42.

Macleod, Margaret Gambier, wife of Ro-
derick Macleod, Esq., M.D., and dau.
of the late Rev. Roderick Macleod,
D.D., Rector of St. Anne's, Soho, 10th
Nov.

Mahon, Major Denis, of Strokestown, co.
Roscommon. The barbarous murder
of this unfortunate gentleman stands
forth in dark relief, even among the
atrocities which have of late years
thrown so black a shadow over the
domestic annals of Ireland. A good
landlord, an upright magistrate, and a
most active benefactor to the poor,
Major Mahon has fallen a victim to the
treacherous ami of the concealed assas-
sin. Just two years since he succeeded,
at the decease of his first cousin, Mau-
rice, Lord Hartland, to an estate of
the value of £12,000 per annum, and
fixed his residence at the family man-
sion of Stroksetown, devoting his time
and energies to the benefit of his te-
nantry, and the improvement of his
land. Early in life he had served in
the British army, from which he retired
with the rank of Major. He was born
12th March, 1787, the second son of the
Rev. Thomas Mahon, younger brother
of Maurice, first Lord Hartland; he
married, 17th September, 1822, Hen-
rietta, daughter of Dr. Bathurst, late
Bishop of Norwich, by whom he leaves
a son, Thomas, born 30th October, 1831,
and a daughter, Grace Catherine. The
family of Mahon was established in
Ireland, by Nicholas Mahon, Esq., a
distinguished personage in the Civil
Wars, and, from the period of its set-
tlement, it has ever held a high posi-
tion among the landed proprietors of
the Sister Island, intermarrying with
the most eminent houses, and frequently
giving members to the Irish Parlia-
ment.

Marr, Mr. Charles, many years in the East
India Company's Service, 25th Oct., at
Lower Edmonton, aged 79.

Markham, Osbome, Esq., late Captain
32nd Regt., 13th Nov., aged 34.

Marriage, Mary, relict of William Mar-
riage, of Bromfield, a Member of the
Society of Friends, 12th Novem., at
Chelmsford.

Maule, Elizabeth, sister of George Maule,
Esq., of Wilton Crescent, 9th Nov.

May, Mrs., relict of William May, Esq.,
Consul General of the Netherlands,
4th Nov., aged 87.

Metzler, Miss, at Capt. M. Seymour's,
R.N., Honduras, 26th Oct.

Mendelssohn. This celebrated composer
has shared the fate of Mozart and
Bellini ; he has died before the prime
of life, in the fulness of his glory. This
greatest of recent composers, whose
death has caused a general lamenta-
tion, was born at Hamburgh, on the 3d
Feb. 1809. His grandfather was an
eminent Hebrew philosopher; his fa-
ther was a wealthy merchant of Berlin.
From his earliest youth, Felix Mendels-
sohn Bartholdy was a musician. Edu-
cated pursuant to the anxious care and
hope of a mother, by the first profes-
sors and masters of * Germany, he at
eight years of age, played with marvel-
lous execution and facility ; in his ninth
year, he performed publicly at Berlin.
His first published compositions ap-
peared in 1824; and soon after that
period he rose up to the eminence
which he subsequently enjoyed. Need
we enumerate his productions, familiar
as they are to the delighted ear of
Europe? Need we do more to register
his fame than to mention that he was
the author of the music of the " Mid-
summer Night's Dream," "Fingal,"
"Melusina," " St. Paul," and "Elijah?"
In this country Mendelssohn was a
cherished favorite, and the affection
was mutual : he loved England as
heartily as his home. He had been
frequently amongst us from the time of
his gifted boyhood. His triumphant
reception in London, last spring, now
brings a melancholy feeling in its recol-
lection. On the 5th of last October,
Mendelssohn was struck with apoplexy ;
and, although, as younger patients usu-
ally do, he straggled against the malady ;
it gradually overcame him, by frequent
repetition, and he expired on the 4th
instant, in his 39th year; thus bringing
to an untimely termination a life graced
by every private virtue, and illustrated
by talents that class him among the
greatest of his era.

Mensdorff, Count Hugh Ferdinand. The
Court has just been placed in mourn-
ing by the death, at Godfeuberg, of
Count Hugh MensdorfF, the Queen's
cousin. He was a Bohemian Noble,
the eldest son of Emanuel Count Von
MensdorfF, G.C.B., by the Princess
Sophia Frederica Caroline Louisa of
Saxe-Coburgh, eldest sister of H.R.H.
the Duchess of Kent. Count Hugh
had only just completed his 41st year.
He held military rank under the Em-
peror of Austria; and, at the period of
his decease, was Colonel-Commandant

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

593

of a regiment of Cuirassiers. He leaves
three brothers, Alphonso Frederick,
Major in the Austrian service, Alexan-
der Constantine Albert, and Arthur
Augustus, both Captains of Hussars in
the same army.
Middleton, Mrs. Alfred, of Finsbury

Slace, 27th Oct.
es, Lewis Charles, Esq., of Lewisham,
Kent, llth Nov., aged 52.

Miller, Joseph, Esq., of Bootle, 30th Oct.,
at Madeira, aged 55.

Milles, Elizabeth, wife of Major Milles, at
Chudleigh, 21st Nov.

Naylor, Sarah Jane, youngest dau.' of
Elisha Naylor, Esq., of Mornington
place, 16th Nov.

Neale, Bridget, wife of the Rev. Thomas
Neale, Rector cf Sibson, 8th Nov., aged
69.

Neale, John Preston, Esq., author of
" Westminster Abbey," " Gentlemen's
Seats," &c., 14th Nov., aged 68.

Nelme, Samuel, Esq., of Grove place,
Hackney, 27th Oct., aged 74.

Nelson, William, Esq., at Clive House,
Alnwick, 8th Nov.

Newbery, Lieut.-Gen. Francis, Colonel of
the 3d Dragoon Guards, 9th Nov.,
aged 70. This distinguished officer
entered the British service in 1794, and
rose through the various grades to that
of a Lieutenant-General in 1830. In
1842, he also received the Colonelcy of
the 3d Dragoon Guards. General
Newberry acted in Ireland during the
rebellion of Ireland in 1798, and was
present at the engagement with the
rebels, and the French at Ballinamuck.
In 1816, he commanded the first cavalry
brigade at the siege and capture of
Huttrus. Again, in 1817 and 1818, he
superintended the proceedings of the
cavalry of the left division of the Mar-
quis of Hastings' gallant army, which
was the first engaged with the Pinda-
rees, and he took the whole of their bag-
gage and camp. He was subsequently
removed to the command of the cavalry,
with a light division, under Major-Gen.
Sir Thomas Brown, and captured at
one fort nine pieces of artillery, and
took prisoner the Artillery General;
he was afterwards present at several
severe and successful attacks on the
enemy's troops. The whole period of
General Newberry's service comprised
53 years.

Normann, Harriett Jane, wife of H. Bur-
ford Normann, Esq., of Duchess street,
and dau. of the Rev. Samuel Alford,
of Heale House, co. Somerset, 13th
Nov.

O'Brien, Donough Achcson, Esq., fourth

son of the late Right Hon. Sir Lucius
O'Brian, Bart., aged 67, 22d Oct.

O'Brian, Miss, only dau. of the late Ad-
miral Edward O'Brian, R.N., 9th Nov.

Ogier, Peter, Esq., of Lincoln's Inn,
Barrister-at-law, 18th Nov., aged 97.

O'Malley, St. Clair, Esq., second son of
the late Charles O'Malley, Esq., of
Lodge, co. Mayo, 1 1th Nov.

Palmer, George, Esq., of Upper Woburn
place, 1 5th Nov. aged 80.

Parr, Thomas, Esq., of Lythwood Hall,
co. Salop, aged 78, Nov. 12th. This
gentleman wa.s fourth son of John Parr,
Esq., of Elm House, co. Lancaster, who
descended from the ancient Lancashire
family of Parr, of Parr (see vol. iii., p.
106). Mr. Parr was, early in life, a
merchant of great eminence in Liver-
pool, and resided in Colquitt street, in
the house, of his own erection, now
occupied as the Royal Institution in
that town. In 1804 he retired from
business ; and having purchased the
mansion and cot. of Lythwood, he
resided there during the last forty-three
years of his life. He married, in 1803,
Katherine, dau. and co-heir of Capt.
Robert Walter, R.N., by whom he has
left four sons and one daughter. The
eldest son is the Rev. Thomas Parr,
Rector of Westbury, Salop, J.P.

Paterson, Cordelia, relict of the Rev.
Charles John Paterson, Vicar of West
Hoathly, Sussex, and dau. of the late
Edward Cranston, Esq., of East Court,
Sussex, 13th Nov.

Pauncefote, Robert, Esq., Barrister- at-
Law, eldest son of the late Robert
Pauncefote, Esq.,"of Preston Court, co.
Gloucester, 14th Nov., aged 28.

Peacocke, Sir Nathaniel L., Bart., 1st
Nov. This Baronet was eldest son and
heir of the late Sir Joseph Peacocke,
of Barntree, co. Clare, on whom the
title was conferred in 1802. At the
period of his decease, he had just com-
pleted his 78th year. By Henrietta,
his wife, eldest dau. of Sir John Morris,
Bart., of Claremont, whom he married
20th June, 1803, he leaves a son, the
present Sir Joseph Francis Peacocke,
Bart., and one dau. Elizabeth. Through
his mother, the deceased Baronet de-
scended from the ancient family of
Cuffe, of Grange, co. Kilkenny; and
through his great grandmother, from
the Ponsonbys, of Crotto.

Peane, Charles Thomas, Esq., Chairman
of the Committee of the Stock Ex-
change, 6th Nov.

Pickering, William, third son of the late
William Pickering, Esq., of Deanhuni,
co. Northumberland, 24th Oct.

594

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Pollen, the Rev. G. P., Rector of Little
Bookham, Surrey, 7th Nov., aged 49.

Radley, Mrs. John, 31st Oct., at Herne
Hill, aged 54.

Redwood, Mary Anne, daughter of the
late Thomas Redwood, Esq., of Llan-
dough, co. Glamorgan, 17th Nov.

Richardson, Robert, Esq., M.D., of Gor-
don-street., 5th Nov., aged 68.

Riddell, the Right Rev. William, D.D.,
Catholic Bishop of the Northern Dis-
trict, 2d Nov. Dr. Riddell is one more
addition to the ever-glorious list of
pious and devoted priests whose lives
have been sacrificed in the performance
of the sacred duty of attending and
solacing the poor in the hour of suffer-
ing and sickness. His Lordship died
on the 2d inst., of typhus fever, which
he had caught in his parochial visita-
tions among the poor of his commu-
nity. Dr. Riddell was third son of the
late Ralph Riddell, Esq., of Felton and
Horsley, in Northumberland, by Eliza-
beth, his wife, eldest daughter of Joseph
Blount, Esq., and grandson of Thomas
Riddell, Esq., of Swinburne Castle, who
was engaged with his father in the
rising of 1745, and was carried up to
London ; where, being arraigned for
high treason, he pleaded guilty, and
experienced the Royal mercy. The
family of Riddell is one of high stand-
ing and large estate in Northumber-
land — is of Norman origin, and the
name of its patriarch appears on the
Roll of Battle Abbey.

Roberts, Jemima, widow of Joseph Ro-
berts, Esq., of Queen Square, 4th
Nov.

Rutter, Mary, wife of Henry Rutter,
eldest daughter of the late Charles
Sanders, Esq., of Stokeferry, Notts, 5th
Nov.

Sandeman, Anne, youngest child of Major
R J. Sandeman, 33rd Regiment, Ben-
gal N.I., 18th Sept.

Saanoman, Anne, widow of Henry Chris-
tian Sanuoman, Esq., 10th Hussars, 6th
Nov.

Savage, Mrs., late of Bath, 6th Nov., at
Montague Place.

Scarlett, Laurence Peter Campbell, infant
son of the Hon. Peter Campbell Scar-
lett, 16th Oct., aged 21 months.

Shaw, Jane Anne, wife of Mr. T. C.
Shaw, New street-square, 3rd Nov.

Sherwood, Mrs. John, daughter of R.
Morton, Esq., of Bayswater, 15th Nov.

Shultz, Anne Josephine, eldest daughter
of Captain Shultz. R.N., 12th Nov.

Simpson, William Wooley, Esq., of Mon-
tague-place, Russell-square, 1 9th Nov.,
aged 64,

Skottowe, Mrs. E. C., relict of George
Augustus Skottowe, Esq., R.N., and
daughter of the late Admiral Robinson,
8th Nov., at Notting-hill.

Sloane, William, Esq., late of Torhoot,
East Indies, 9th Nov.

Smith, Mrs., of Jordan-hill, co. Renfrew,
26th Oct.

Smythe Robert, Esq., of Methven Castle,
co. Perth. Recent accounts from Scot-
land bring the intelligence of the death
of this respected gentleman, a great
landed proprietor in the county of
Perth, and one of its Magistrates and
Deputy-Lieutenants. He was son of
the late David Smythe, titulary Lord
Methven, by Elizabeth, his first wife,
only daughter of Sir Robert Murray,
Bart., of Hill Head, and represented
the ancient family of Smythe of Braco,
which was founded by Thomas Smith,
a distinguished Physician of his day,
and Apothecary to King James III. of
Scotland. Traditionally, the Smythes
of Methven trace their origin to the
famous Clan Chattan, being descended,
it is asserted, from Neil Cromb, third
son of Murdoch, of that Clan, who
flourished in the time of William the
Lion. Mr. Robert Smythe, whose death
we record, was born 10th Feb., 1778,
and married twice. His first wife was
Mary, daughter of James Townsend
Oswald, Esq., of Dunnekier, co. Fife,
and his second, Susan Renton, eldest
daughter of Sir Alexander Muir Mac-
kenzie, Bart., but by neither had he
any issue. His estates devolve, conse-
quently on his half-brother, William
Smythe, Esq., now of Methven Castle.

Smithell, Mrs. Elizabeth, late of Hawley-
square, Margate, 6th Nov.

Solomon, Dr. Henry, eldest son of the
late Samuel Solomon, Esq., 18th Sept.,
at St. Helena,

Soulby, Eleanor, second daugher of the
late Anthony Soulby, Esq., of Crouch-
end, 8th Nov.

Spicer, Mrs. Rebecca, of Somerford
Grange, Hants, 8th Nov., aged 69.

St. Clair, Major-General Thomas Staun-
ton, C.B. and K.H., 23rd Oct., aged 60.
This distinguished officer was youngest
brother of Captain David Latimer St.
Clair, R.N., of Staverton Court, county
Gloucester, being son of the.latg Colonel
William St. Clair, a descendant of the
ancient Scottish family of St. Clair.

Steele, Mrs. Henry Perin, daughter and
co-heir of the late John Bangor Russell,
Esq., of Beaminster, aged 53.

Suckling, Catharine Webb, second daugh-
ter of the Rev. Alfred Suckling, o
Barsham Rectory, Suffolk, 7th Nov.

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

595

Surr, Mrs. Susan, of Stockwell, 8th Nov.,
aged 68.

Swire, Mrs. Samuel, third daughter of
James Kendle, Esq., of Weasenham,
Norfolk, llth Nov., aged 27.

Symes, Mrs. William, of Tavistock-square,
3rd Nov.

Thompson, Thomas, eldest son of Thomas
Thompson, Esq., of Poundsford Park,
4th September, at Singapore, aged 29.

Thornton, Marian, wife of T. L. Thorn-
ton, Esq., and youngest daughter of
Captain R. M'Kirlie, 12th Nov.

Timmerman, Sophia, wife of Captain
Timmerman, of the French Cavalry,
and daughter of the late William Bro-
die, Esq., 20th Oct., near Boulogne.

Torkington, Anne, wife of the Rev.
Charles Torkington, 8th November, at
Abbotsbury, co. Dorset.

Toulmin, Joseph, Esq., of Hackney, 15th
Nov., aged 76.

Turton, Mrs. William, at Weymouth, 7th
Nov., aged 62.

Walker, Rev. S. F., M.A.. Chaplain to

j^the Trinity House, 9th Nov., aged 68.

Warrington, Colonel Hanmer, 18th Oct.
This gentleman, late her Majesty's
Agent and Consul General at Tripoli,
died at Patras. His distinguished
career in the service of his country ex-
tended over the period of full fifty
years. In 1795 he received a Cornet's
commission in the 1st Dragoon Guards,
and accompanied the regiment to Flan-
ders. He afterwards purchased a troop
in the 2nd Dragoon Guards, and was
thence promoted to the Majority of the
4th Dragoon Guards. Subsequently
he obtained the appointment of Inspect-
ing Field Officer to the Carnarvonshire
District; and was sent, not long after,
by the Duke of York, to assist in orga-
nizing the Spanish cavalry under Ge-
neral Balasteros, and in generally aid-
ing the Spanish troops opposed to the
French. Ab^ut the year 1812, Colonel
Warrington was selected to represent
his sovereign at Tripoli, as Agent and
Consul General; and this important
post he continued to occupy for thirty-
four years, during which long period
no Consul in any part of the world ever
carried the name and influence of Great
Britain higher than the lamented gen-
tleman whose death we now record.
He was honoured with the Guelphic
Order, by the King of Hanover, and
with that of St. Guiseppe by the Grand
Duke of Tuscany. Col. Warrington was
born in 1776, the third son of the Rev.
Geo. Warrington, rector of Pleasley, co.
Derby, by Mary, his. wife, dau. and
heiress of Henry Strudwyck, Esq. He

married, in 1798, Jane Elizabeth, only
dau. of Charles Price, Esq., and has
left a large family. His eldest brother,
George Henry Warrington, Esq., of
Pentrapant, married Mary, eldest dau.
and heiress of John Carew, Esq., of
Carew Castle, county Pembroke, and
Crowcombe, county Somerset, and as-
sumed, in consequence, the name of the
ancient family of Carew.

Watson, Musgrave Lewthwaite, Esq.,
Sculptor, 28th Aug.

Wells, Frederick Octavius, Esq., East
India Company's Service, son of the
late Vice-Admiral Thomas Wells, 17th
Aug., at Calcutta.

Wells, John, Esq., of Upper Phillimore-
place, Kensington, 17th Nov., aged 65.

Whitehurst, Mary, widow of the late
Thomas Whitehurst, Esq., 28th Oct.,
at Battersea.

Wilcot, Mrs Elizabeth, dau. of the* late
James Hume, Esq., of Waudsworth,
13th Nov.

Willes, Rev. Edward, M.A., son of the
late Archdeacon Willes, 30th Oct., at
Bath, aged 76.

Williams, Miss Rebecca, at Stanmore,
15th Nov., aged 83.

Willis, Mrs. Elizabeth, of Canterbury
Villas, Brixton, 16th Nov.

Willshire, Fanny, second dau. of Ray-
mond Wlllshire, Esq., of Brixton Place,
Surrey, 15th Nov.

Wilson, Mary Anne, eldest dau. of the
late Henry Wilson, Esq., at Harring-
ton-square, 1st Nov.

Wise, Mrs. Edward, at Ryde, 7th Nov.

Witham, Elizabeth, relict of Hen. Witham,
Esq., of Lartington Hall, co. York, and
niece and heiress of William Witham,
Esq., ofCliffeHall.

Wood, Mrs. Mary of Shere, Surrey, 25th
Oct., aged 63.

Woods, Mrs., J. D., 5th Nov., at Jersey.

Woodward, Isaac, Esq., of Edwardes-
square, Kennington, 12th Nov., aged
63.

Woolley, George, youngest son of the late
Joseph Woolley, Esq., of the Bengal
Medical Service, 30th Oct., at Oxford
Terrace.

York, The Archbishop of, The Most
Reverend Father in God, Edward
(Venables Vernon) Harcourt, Lord
Archbishop of York, Primate of Eng-
land, was born on the 10th October,
1757. His Grace was the second son
of George, first Lord Vernon, by his
third wife, Martha, third dau. of the
Hon. Simon Harcourt, and sister of
Simon, first Earl of Harcourt. At the
age of thirteen, he was sent to West-
minster School, whence he removed to

596

ANNOTATED OBITUARY.

Christ Church, Oxford. Soon after
taking orders, h3 was placed in the
family Rectory of Sudbury. He was
next appointed a Prebendary of Glou-
cester, and afterwards Canon of Christ
Church, which appointments he re-
tained for many years. In 1791, he
became Bishop of Carlisle, and held
that Bishopric up to 1807, when, on the
death of the Most Rev. Dr. Markham,
he was translated to the Archbishopric
of York. In the following year, his
Grace was made a Privy Councillor; he
was also Lord High Almoner to the
Queen, a Governor of the Charter
House, and of King's College, London ;
Visitor of Queen's College, Oxford; a
Commissioner for Building Churches,
and aD.C.L.: he was also, for more
than thirty years, one of the Directors
of the Ancient Concerts. This vene-
rable Prelate was highly respected by
all sects and parties. As a religious
teacher, his precepts were clear and
forcible ; and they were fully supported
by the practice of his life. His Grace

married, the 5th February, 1784, Anne,
third daughter of Granville, first Mar-
quis of Stafford, by whom (who died
the 16th Nov. 1832) he had issue ten
sons and four daughters, all of whom,
except one daughter, survive him. Of
these sons, three are dignitaries of the
church ; two are barristers and members
of Parliament ; two are colonels in the
army; and two are captains in the navy.
One daughter is married to Sir John
V. B. Johnstone, Bart., M.P., and an-
other is married to Colonel Malcolm.
His Grace assumed the name of Har-
court in 1831, on inheriting the estates
of the Harcourt family, on the death of
Field-Marshal the Earl of Harcourt.
The Venerable Archbishop died, on
the 5th Nov., "at the Palace, Bishops-
thorpe, after a short illness, in his
ninety-first year.

Young, Edmund, Esq., Ensign 76th Re-
giment, youngest son of Henry Young,
Esq., of Lower Berkeley-street, 16th
Oct., aged 19.

END OF VOLUME IV.

CLAYTON & Co., Printers, 1C, Hart-street, Covent Garden.

INDEX TO VOL, IV..

ADELPHI Theatre . . . . 168, 577

Alfred Club 522

Alliances, Great . . . . , . .367
Amy Robsart, a Drama, Keview of, . 383
Ancestry of Lord George Bentinck . 159
Andersen's Story of my Life, Review

of, "..... 178

Ankerwycke in Wyrardisbury, Bucks 354
ANNOTATED OBITUARY . . 89, 189, 289

392, 494, 589.
ANNOTATED ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY 226

567.

Anstey, Thomas C., Esq., M.P. . . 260
Appleton-upon-Wiske, co. York . . 409
ARCHBISHOPS OF YORK SINCE THE

RESTORATION 535

ARISTOCRACY, TRIALS CONNECTED

WITH THE, . 17, 109, 231, 299, 452

524.

Army and Navy Club 518

Arthur's Club ........ 517

ARTS, THE FINE* L69, 385

Athenaeum Club 520

AUTOGRAPHS, ROYAL .. . . . . 50

BALLADS, SWEDISH 153

Ballad, A Romaunch 78

Battle of Waterloo, (Gleig's) Review

of, 172

Barnard, William, and the Duke of

Maryborough, Case of, . . . .109
BARONIES, IRISH, BY WRIT . . . 128
BATTLE ABBEY ROLL, ANNOTATED, 226

567.

Bayard, The Chevalier, .... 538
Beef- Steak Club . 460

Bentinck, Lord George, Ancestry of, 159
Berkeley, The Earldom of, ... 367

Correction 484

BIRTHS 85, 184, 284, 386

Birth-place and Birth- day of the

Duke of Wellington 534

Blackstone, William Seymour, Esq.,

M.P., 260

Bolton Abbey 556

Boodle's Club 469

Book of the Months .585

Brackley, Viscount, M.P., .... 258
Brandon Park, co. Suffolk . . . .142
BRITISH INSTITUTION . . . . . 169

Brooke's Club . . 461

BULKELEY MSS., EXTRACT FROM

THE UNPUBLISHED, 448

BULLEN, THE LADIES, . .« . . . 532

Biirford's Panorama 375

Buxton, Sir E. North, Bart., M.P., . 260

Caher House, co. Tipperary . . . 248
Calveley of Lea, co. Chester . . . 248
Campbell, Mungo, Trial of, for

Shooting Lord Eglinton . . . 452
Captive Robber, Song of the ... 57

Carlton Club 514

CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT

BRITAIN AND IRELAND . 51,124, 241

401, 506.

Castle Connell, co. Limerick . . . 427
Castle Cooke, co. Cork, Ireland . .418
Castle Coole, co. Fermanagh ... 51

Castle Widenham 415

Cavendish, The Famous Lady . . 65
Chess Problem poetically Solved . 324

Chevalier Bayard 538

Chevalier, the Young 533

Cleveland, History of, Review of the 275

INDEX.

PAGE

CLUBS OF LONDON . . 269, 340, 456

512.

COMMONS, HOUSE or 560

Comparison between the Electra of

Sophocles and the Hamlet of

Shakespeare ........ 503

Coningsburgh, co. Cork . . . .241

Conservative Club 515

CONTRAST, A, a Poem 512

CONTROVERSY, THE SCROPE AND

GROSVENOR, 144, 197

Correspondence, Original . . . .565
Cooke, Robert, Esq., called " Linen

Cooke" 64

Cowper, Spencer, Trial of, for the

the Murder of a Quaker Lady . 299
Crimes and Vicissitudes of William

Parsons, son of a Baronet . . .231

Curious Tradition, A, 68

CURIOUS TRIALS CONNECTED WITH

THE ARISTOCRACY . 17, 109, 231, 299

452, 524.

DANTE, GENEALOGY OF .... 251
DAUGHTER, THE GOLDSMITH'S, . . 483
DEATHS OF THE SOVEREIGNS OF
ENGLAND . . . . .95, 215, 319

DEVOTION, A TALE .331

Digby, Edward, sixth Lord, , . .161
Directions for Plain Knitting, Re-
view of, • . • 183

Doneraile Park, co. Cork . . . . 247
DRAMA OF MODERN FRANCE ... 58
Drummond Castle, co. Perth . . . 245
Duke of Wellington, Birth-place and

Birth-day of, 534

Dyer the Poet; Notes of the Life and
Family of, . . . . . 7, 264, 420

Earl Ferrers' Trial for Murder . : 17

Earldom of Perth, The 262

Berkeley, The .... 367

• Correction 484

Edenhale, co. Cumberland . . . 356
Edward, Sixth Lord Digby . . .161
Electra of Sophocles and the Hamlet
of Shakespeare, Comparison be-
tween the 503

EMIGRANT, THE . 157

ENGLAND, THE LANDS OF, AND
THEIR PROPRIETORS, SINCE THE

CONQUEST 354

Epitaph by Bishop Lowth . . . .262
Epitaph on Dr. Tomlinson . . .263

Erectheum Club 521

Euston, co. Suffolk 141

EXHIBITIONS 169, 375

PAGfE

EXTRACT FROM THE UNPUBLISHED
BULKELEY MSS 448

FACT IN HERALDRY 451

FAMILY HISTORY, FRAGMENTS OF, . 64

159, 258, 367, 532.

Family of Rudyerd 65

Ferrers, Earl, Trial of, for Murder . 17

FINE ARTS , . 385

Forglen House, Banff 410

Fox, W. J., Esq., M.P 259

FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY HISTORY . 64

159, 258, 367, 532.
FRANCE, MODERN, THE DRAMA OF 58

Free-trade Club 516

French Theatre 81, 166

Galtee Castle, co. Tipperary . . . 547

Garrick Club 523

GENEALOGY, NEGLECTED, I. ... 565
GENEALOGY OF THE POET DANTE . 251
Gleig's Battle of Waterloo, Review

of, 172

GOLDSMITH'S (THE) DAUGHTER . . 483
Great Alliances . . . . . . .367

Grouchy, Marshal . . . . . . 13

Guard's Club 519

Haymarket Theatre . , . . 485, 577

Heraldry, A Fact in, 451

HEROES, ROMANTIC, OF HISTORY . 538

High Road, The 71

HISTORIC RUINS ...... 325, 427

HISTORY, FRAGMENTS OF FAMILY . 64

159, 258, 367 532.

History of Cleveland, Review of . . 275
HISTORY, ROMANTIC HEROES OF . 538

Holwood, Kent 405

HOUSE OF COMMONS 560

House of O'Conor 1 60

HOUSES, ROYAL, OF EUROPE . . . 470
Howth Castle 124

land J

INSTITUTION, BRITISH, Exhibition at 169
IRISH BARONIES, BY WRIT. ... 128
ITALIAN OPERA, THE, . . . . 80, 164
ITALIAN ROMANCE, MODERN, THE

SPIRIT OF, 435

Italy, Royal Houses of, 470

Jersey Illustrated, Review of, . . 385

Ill

PAGE

Jesse's London, Review of, . . . . 279
John Savile, of Haysted, Review of, 573
JULLIEN'S CONCERTS 486

Kemys Tynte, Col. Charles John,

M.P 260

Kennet, co. Clackmanan 246

Kilkenny Castle 53

KlLLARNEY, A RECOLLECTION OF, . 43

Knebworth, Herts 401

KNIGHT, (the) OF TOGGENBURG . .365

Ladies Bullen, the, 532

LANDS OF ENGLAND, AND THEIR
PROPRIETORS SINCE THE CON-
QUEST 134, 354

Lady Cavendish, The famous ... 65
Land we live in, (the) Review of, . 487

Lathom House 552

Law Club, (the) 523

Life of Shelley, by Meclwin, Review of 578

Lisnegar 413

Literary Clubs 520

LITERATURE. 82, 172, 275, 379, 487, 5 8
Little Courier of the Hotel de Grand

Monarque 182

London Recluse, the, 67

LONDON, THE CLUBS OF, 269, 340, 456,

512
London, Jesse's, Review of, ... 279

Love's Signal 482

Lushington, Charles, Esq., M.P. . .261

Man, The oldest, since the deluge . 261
Marlborough, Duke of, and William

Barnard, Case of 109

MARRIAGES .... 86, 186, 286, 388

MARSHAL GROUCHY 13

Marylebone Theatre . . .374, 486, 577
Mary Queen of Scots' Veil . . . .162

Mayor's Official Prefix 63

Medw^i's Life of Shelley, Review of. 578
Members, Some, of the New Parlia-
ment 258

Member of Parliament of the olden

time 261

Military Clubs 517

MODERN SPANISH ROMANCE . . .102

ITALIAN ROMANCE . . . 435

Months, Book of the 585

Moore Park, co. Cork 549

Mungo Campbell, Trial of, for shoot-
ing Lord Eglinton 452

Mysterious Case of William Barnard
and the Duke of Marlborough . .109

Naval Clubs 519

NEGLECTED GENEALOGY, I. . . .565
NOTES ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS
OF DYER, THE POET . . 7, 264, 420

OBITUARY, ANNOTATED, 82, 189, 289,

392, 494, 589

O'Brien, Stafford, Esq., M.P. . . .259
O'Connor, Eeargus, Esq., M.P. . . 259
O'Conor, House of, . . . . . .160

Official Prefix of Mayors 63

Oldest Man since the Deluge . . . 261
OPERA, (THE) ITALIAN ... 80, 164

Oriental Club 523

Original Correspondence . . . .565
Osborne, Ralph, Esq., M.P. . . .258
Otterburn, co. Northumberland . .362
OUDINOT, DUKE OF REGGIO. . . . 476
Oxford and<Jambridge Club . . .521

Parliament, the new, A few Mem-
bers of 258

Parliament, A Member of, in the

olden time . 261

Parsons, William, son of a Baronet,
The Crimes and Vicissitudes of .231

Parthenon Club 522

PASTORAL D' ZAMPAGNARI. ... 69

Peculiar Privileges 370

Perth, The Earldom of, 262

POETRY, 57, 69, 78, 153, 157, 331, 353,

433, 451, 482, 511, 537
Princess's Theatre. . . .168, 485, 573

Privileges, Peculiar 370

Problem in Chess poetically solved . 324
Promise fulfilled 65

Rachel, Mademoiselle 166

Rail-road, the 74

Recluse, The London. ... 6

RECOLLECTION OF KILLARNEY, A, . 43

Reform Club 512

REGGIO, OUDINOT, DUKE OF, . , .476
Remains, Historical and Literary, of
Lancashire and Cheshire, by Hul-

ton, Review of, 379

Renny, co. Cork 126

Return, The Wanderer's 353

REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS, &c. 82, 172,

275, 379, 487, 578
River Dove, and Angling, Review "of 381

Road, The High, 71

The Rail, 74

INDEX.

Rokeby, co. York 134

ROLL OF BATTLE ABBEY, Anno^ted 226,

567
ROMANCE, MODERN ITALIAN,? THE

SPIRIT OF, 435

ROMANCE, MODERN SPANISH . . .102

ROMAUNCH BALLAD, A, 78

ROMANTIC HEROES OP HISTORY . . 538>

ROYAL AUTOGRAPHS 50

ROYAI^HOUSES OF EUROPE 470

Rudyerd, Family of 65

Sadler's Wells Theatre . 372, 485, 573
Savile, John, (New Play) Review of 573
SCOTLAND, THE WHITE ROSE OF, . 481
Scots, Mary, Queen of, The Veil of . 162
SCROPE, AND GROSVENOR, CONTRO-
VERSY 144, 197

Seaham, Lord, M.P 258

Searle's Book of the Month . . . 585
Shafto, Robert Buncombe, Esq., M.P. 258
Shelley's Life, by Medwin, Review of 578

Signal, Love's 482

SIR EPPELIN 433

Sketches (Wayfaring), among the

Greeks and Turks, Review of . .176
Smyth, John George, Esq., M.P. . 259
Song of the Captive Robber. . . . 57

Sonnet 537

SOPHOCLES AND SHAKESPEARE,

COMPARISON BETWEEN .... 503
SOVEREIGNS OP ENGLAND, DEATHS

OF, 95, 215, 319

SPANISH ROMANCE, MODERN . . .102
Spencer Cowper, brother of Lord
Chancellor Cowper, Trial of, for

Murder 299

Spencer's House, at Kilcolman . .
SPIRIT OF MODERN ITALIAN RO-
MANCE 435

Story of the Battle of Waterloo, by

Gleig, Review of 172

St. Pierre, co. Monmouth . . . .361
SUNDON, VISCOUNTESS, MEMOIRS of

the, Review of, 82

SWEDISH BALLADS . .153

THEATRES, The, . . 80, 372, 485, 573'
Theatre, Her Majesty's . . . .80,164-

. The French . . . ,81,166

Haymarket. . 168,485,577

Sadler's Wells. 372, 485, 573

Marylebone. . . . 374, 486

Adelphi 168,577

Princess's . . .168,485,577

TOGGENBURG, THE KNIGHT OF, . . 365

Tradition, A Curious 68

Traveller's Club -523

TRAVELLING, PAST AND PRESENT . 71
TRIAL&, CONNECTED WITH THE
ARISTOCRACY, 17, 109 231, 299, 452,.
524

True Story of my Life, by C. Ander-
sen, Review of, 178

Tynte, Kemys, Col, Charles John,
M.P. . 260

UandV

Union Club 522

United Service Club 517

: Junior . . .518

University Club 521

Urquhart, David, Esq., M.P. . . . 260
Veil, (The) of Mary Queen of Scots. 162

WandY

Wanderer's (the) Return 353

Wayfaring Sketches among the'

Greeks and Turks, &c., Review of 176
WELLINGTON, Birth-place and Birth-
day of the Duke of. 534

West, Francis Richard, M.P. . . .260
WHITE ROSE OF SCOTLAND. . . .481
White's Play, "John Savile," Re-
view of. 573

White's Club 468

Wilson, Matthew, Esq., M.P. . . . 259

Writtle, co. Essex 138

Wyndam Club 522

Wyvill, Marmaduke, Esq. M.P. . . 259
YORK, ARCHBISHOPS OF, SINCE THE

RESTORATION 535

Young Chevalier, the 533..

i^f*

• •.•'-'

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