> * f 1

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FJIOM A .X^AEE (^laNT ArTlZ:Tt T0B O KIGINA fj 'i'K'T
MICHAET-. M.IJit:VX.[,DT.

MEMOIES

EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.

BY
LOUISA STUART COSTELLO,
AUTHOR OF
* SPECIMENS OF TKE EARLY POETRY OF FRANCE," " A SUMMER AMOSGST THE SOCAGES
AND THE VINES," "A PILGRIMAGE TO AUVERGNE," "THE QUEEN MOTHER,"
ETC. ETC. ETC.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON :
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
IPtiiiltsJer tn ©vJiinars to fijer ilSlaiefitB.
1844.

LONDON :
FRINTED BY R. CLAY, DREAD STREET IIILt,.

CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

PAGE
Elizabeth Stuart, Queen oe Bohemia  1
Lucy Harrington, Countess of Bedford  172
* Frances Howard, Countess of Somerset  18G
Margaret Elizabeth, Countess of Essex  209
Christian, Countess of Devonshire  214
Anne Clifford, Countess of Dorset  228
Mary Evelyn  305
Lady Fanshawe  315

LIST OF POETRAITS.
Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia  to face Title.
Lucie H.\rrington, Countess of Bedford . . to face p. 172
* Frances, Countess op Somerset  186
Anne Clifford, Countess of Dorset  228
Lady Fanshawe  315
• In the title of tlie Memoir of this lady, through a mistake of the Printer, she is
styled Duchess instead of Countess of Somerset.

MEMOIRS

EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,

ELIZABETH STUART, QUEEN OF BOHEMIA.
Amongst the many interesting female characters
who are conspicuous in the reign of James the
Pirst, one of the most remarkable is his beautiful
daughter, whose early life began so prosperously,
and who was destined to experience so many
reverses. Her father, indeed, may be considered
the only member of the ill-starred house of Stuart
who enjoyed any continued happiness, and the
changes in whose life were for the better. As his
sensibilities were far from delicate, those untoward
events, which to another would have been fraught
with sorrow and regret, made but little impression
on his mind : as self was his ruling passion,
his own good fortune, in inheriting the most
powerful throne in Europe, and aU the advan-
VOL. II. B

2 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
tages which such a position gave, quite compen
sated for his mother's wrongs and misfortunes;
and, like an upstart suddenly enriched with the
spoils of a miser's hoard, which he could hardly
hope to obtain, he gave way to a vulgar delight,
and determined to enjoy "the goods the gods
provided him," which he contrived to do to the
end, leaving the remaining scenes of the Stuart
tragedy to be played by other actors.
When Elizabeth, the great Queen, had breathed
her last, and her silence had conferred the inheri
tance of England on James, the exulting prince
lost no time in hastening to clutch his new pos
sessions ; and, although his ungraceful appearance
and ungentlemanlike manners disgusted all the
subjects of his magnificent predecessor, there were
not wanting those in his train whose grace and
beauty made up for his defects. His Queen and
her children excited that interest and admiration
which James himself failed to create ; and, above
all, the lovely child, Elizabeth, was a fairy vision,
calculated to win all eyes her way as she appeared
to the gazing multitude, seated in her carriage,
surrounded by her young attendants ; and, though
it was by some objected that the more noble
mode of travelling on horseback adopted by the
Virgin Queen was disused by the new sovereign
and his family, it was impossible to withhold from
the youthful princess her due meed of praise, more
particularly when it was understood that she was,

aUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 3
even at the very early age at which she first
appeared in England, an excellent horsewoman.
Elizabeth was born in the palace of Falkland, on
the I Oth August, 1596, and was brought to Eng
land at her father's accession, in 1603 ; and, accord
ing to a somewhat absurd custom then prevalent,
instead of being retained by her mother in her
own home she was given up to the care of the
Countess of Kildare : that is to say, the princess's
establishment was kept at that lady's house, as was
that of each of the royal children at different
noblemen's dwellings. It would seem as if they
were to be held as hostages for the good behaviour
of the, King, for what the advantages of separating
the children from their parents and each other
were does not appear.
There is no reason to think that Lady Kildare
was selected by Anne of Denmark as her daughter's
governess, or protectress, for any remarkable qua
lities she possessed. She is only known as Frances
Howard, third daughter of the Earl of Notting
ham, and married, in the first instance, to Henry
Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare ; after his death she
became the wife of the unfortunate Lord Cobham,
who was, soon after James's accession, involved
in the suspicions under which Sir Walter Raleigh
suffered. Her devotion to her husband was not
very great, for she totally abandoned him in his
distress, ' and declined offering him any sort of
consolation or sympathy.

4 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The princess was not, however, long under her
influence, but was removed to the exclusive care
of Sir John Harrington, newly created Baron of
Exon, who accepted the charge of her education
as a labour of love, and gave her his utmost atten
tion, according to the testimony of his cousin-
german, — the "witty" Sir John Harrington, the
translator of Anacreon, and favourite of Queen
Elizabeth, who is somewhat sarcastic in his remarks
on the " fatigue" his relative endures for his
royal charge; by which it would appear the late
Queen's friend felt no very cordial esteem for those
actually in power — a circumstance by no means
rare in the history of Com-ts and courtiers.
The poor little princess of eight years old, who
was greatly attached to her brother, Henry, was
quite inconsolable at being separated from him,
and deplores the event in the following brief
letter : —
" My dear and worthy brother,
" I most kindly salute you, desiring to hear
of your health; from whom, though I am now
removed far away, none shall ever be nearer in
affection than your most loving sister, " Elizabeth."

King James, pedant as he was, and bom a
schoolmaster, made a judicious selection for his
daughter in her present protector; he had before

aUEEN OE BOHEMIA. 5
applied himself to her instruction and encouraged
her correspondence with her brother as soon as
she was able to hold a pen. As most young
people of any intelligence are naturally disposed
to communicate their ideas to each other, it is
certainly an indulgence which cannot too soon be
granted, and one which is likely to be of much
service in forming a good and easy style, as in
the case of young Elizabeth ; for, though scarcely
so pleasing as that of her cousin, Arabella, still
her correspondence is very agreeable when undic-
tated. Of the family into whicii the princess was
adopted, and amongst whom she became the most
important personage, a very fiattering picture has
been drawn, and it would seem that every advan
tage of learning, taste, and refinement, was com
bined with more solid good to render Combe
Abbey a fitting abode for a royal child. This fine
domain had come into the possession of Lord
Harrington by marriage with an heiress whose
accomplishments and virtues made her a very
appropriate person to take charge of a young lady
of the high rank of Elizabeth ; her own daughter,
Lucy, afterwards Countess of Bedford, whose coun
tenance is familiar to most persons, through nume
rous portraits, was a promising girl, of great
abilities, some years older than the princess; an
intimacy naturally ensued between them, and the
charming Anne Dudley, niece of Lord Harrington,

6 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
who resided under his roof, made the third of
these young graces.
Of Lucy Harrington's taste and imagination there
can be no question, but of her prudence in expen
diture the less inquiry there is made the better ;
for she became as notorious for the enormous and
ruinous expense in which she indulged, as for
her talent in planning elegant gardens and erect
ing beautiful structures. As King James, at this
period, seemed to think himself in possession of
a magical purse, which could never be exhau.sted,
it was not likely that he restrained the extrava
gance of his daughter, who, even at this early age,
displayed a great fondness for show and splendour,
in which she, doubtless, was encouraged by her
profuse friend, the gay and clever Lucy, who had
the propensity for building of Bess of Hardwick,
vidthout her economy and management.
They must have been a happy party at Combe
Abbey at this period, for, besides those abeady
mentioned, the dear friend of Prince Henry, young
John Harrington, enlivened them with his brilliant
talents, so much appreciated by his royal com
panion, whose tastes were in many respects conge
nial to his own, except that the prince far excelled
him in martial exercises and feats of agility.
Almost all writers concur in representing Prince
Henry as a model of all manly and engaging
virtues ; and thotigh the friends of that party which
he was said to espouse probably exaggerated his

aUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 7
good qualities, yet there is no reason to believe
that he was altogether so little interesting as an
eloquent and, generaUy, impartial historian* repre
sents him, when, in speaking of his untimely death
— ^which important event he dismisses in a few
careless words — he says : —
" Henry, the heir apparent, had reached his
eighteenth year. There existed but little affection
between him and his father. James looked on him
with feelings of jealousy, and even of awe ; and the
young prince, faithful to the lessons which he had
formerly received from his mother, openly ridiculed
the foibles of his father, and boasted of the conduct
which he would pursue when he should succeed to
the throne. In the dreams of his fancy he was
already another Henry V., and the conqueror of
his hereditary kingdom of France."
This scarcely agrees with the respect and regret
expressed for him by Henry IV. of France, who
lost no opportunity of praising both his talents and
virtues : the historian continues —
" To those who were discontented with the father,
the abilities and virtues of the son became the
theme of the most hyperbolical praise : the zealots
looked on him as the destined reformer of the
English Church; some could even point out the
passage in the apocalypse, which reserved for him
* Dr. Lingard.

8 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
the glorious task of expeUing antichrist from the
papal chair."
"Harrington teUs us, that the foUowing rhyme
was common in the mouths of the people : —
' Henry tlie Eighth pulled down the abbeys and cells.
But Henry the Ninth shall pull down bishops and bells.'
" Vath the several matches prepared for him by
his father, it were idle to detain the reader; his
marriage, as well as his spiritual and temporal con
quests, were anticipated by an untimely death,
which some writers have attributed to poison,
* * * and others, with greater probability/, to /ns
own turbulence and obstinacy ,
" In the pursuit of amusement he disregarded all
advice. He was accustomed to bathe for a long
time together after supper, to expose himself in the
most stormy weather, and to take violent exercise
during the greatest heats of summer."
These habits, which are here imputed as a crime,
are not unfrequently brought forward as a proof of
heroism and manly qualities worthy of admiration,
and they are generaUy named by the eulogists of
the young prince as circumstances in his favour ;
however correct his physician might have been for
blaming his hardihood, an impartial historian is
scarcely to be excused for imputing it to him as an
offence. " In the spring of 1612," continues Dr. Lingard,
" a considerable change was remarked both in his

QUEEN OE BOHEMIA. 9
appearance and temper ; he spent the month of
September in the country, in his xisual manner,
hunting, feasting, and playhig at balloon and tennis,
and on his return to Richmond, found himself so
ill that the Court physicians were consulted. * * *
It is evident that he died of a malignant fever."
John Harrington, in his " Nugse Antiquse," gives
a somewhat different account of the occupations of
the young friend of the heir of England, AA^hom he
represents as living in the most regular manner,
allowing himself but five hours for sleep, and em
ploying his waking moments in useful exercises,
study, and devotion ; and the usual accounts given
of the occupation of Prince Henry, differ but little
from those of his 'friend, v/ho was less capable than
himself, or had less inclination, to enjoy the natural
amusements of youth.
But death and sorrow were far from the haunts
of Combe Abbey at the time Avhen Elizabeth
Stuart's childish beauty enlivened and adorned its
groves and gardens, and Lord Harrington writes
of her : —
" With God's assistance, we hope to do our
Lady Elizabeth such service as is due to her princely
endowments and natural abUities, both whicii ap
pear the sweet dawning of future comfort to her
royal father."
All the quickness, vivacity, and observation, to
gether Avith the wit and wisdom attributed to her

10 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
brother, were possessed in a remarkable degree by
Elizabeth, and she inherited beauty both from her
unfortunate grandmother, and her fair and volatUe
mother. Her manners were frank, affable, and
popular ; and the people of England loved to hear
her name, which recaUed to their minds one long
their idol, and the admired and feared of all na
tions. Miss Benger, in her interesting history of
this princess, thus names her residence at Combe
Abbey : —
" The situation of Combe Abbey, though little
attractive to the lovers of picturesque scenery, was
recommended by its richly- wooded parks, abounding
in game, its extensive gardens and opulent tenantry.
Among the revolutions which it had undergone, the
monastic aspect had been allowed to remain, but
the cloisters were now occupied by the numerous
retainers in Elizabeth's household ; and never did
she issue from this mansion unattended by her
faithful guardian, and a splendid retinue of both
sexes. Nor was this habitual pomp altogether use
less in preparing for that life of theatrical exhibition
imposed on royal personages ; and that Elizabeth
had already acquired sufficient self-possession to
sitstain her part with becoming ease and dignity,
may be gathered from an account of her first visit
to Coventry, which is stiU extant in the registers of
that city.
" On Tuesday, the IBth AprU, 1604, the Princess,

aUEEN OF BOHEMIA. II
Lady Elizabeth, the King's eldest daughter, came
from Combe Abbey, nobly accompanied. Although
scarcely eight years old, she was sufficiently expert
in horsemanship to have headed an equestrian's
train in the old manner of the maiden Queen;
but the fashionable usage of carriages attested the
degeneracy of the public taste, and, instead of this
graceful exhibition, was instituted a procession of
coaches, in one of which sat the young princess.
The heads of the corporation omitted no attention
that could bespeak attachment to the daughter of
the reigning sovereign. The city poured forth men,
women, and children to greet the royal child, whilst
the mayor and aldermen, clad in scarlet robes,
foUoAved by the burgesses, attired in gowns and
hoods, aU well mounted, proceeded to Jabet's
Ash.* " At Jabet's Ash the cavalcade halted. The AA'or-
shipful mayor, alighting, advanced to the Lady
Elizabeth to kiss her hand ; then, remounting his
steed, rode majesticaUy before her. The Lord Har
rington and aU his cavaliers followed bareheaded,
the citizens standing in their hoUday dress of gowns
and hoods in respectful silence. In this manner
they proceeded to St. Michael's church, aU the
burghers standing on thek arms. The master of
the free-school preached a sermon; to which the
* Jabet's Ash, at the extremity of the town. The tree has long
vanished, but its vicinity still retains the na.-me. — History of.
Cojientry.

12 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
little princess had been taught to listen with pro
found attention.
" She Avas then conducted to St. Mary's Hall,
where she dined, sitting for the first time in a chair
of state, of which the novelty might, in part, per
haps, atone for its uneasiness ; but, on being pre
sented with a gUt silver cup, she was constrained to
accept Lord Harrington's aid to sustain the weight
when she took it in her hand and received the civic
pledge. From St. Mary's Hall she went to the
free school and the library ; and thus made her
progress through the streets till she once more
found herself at Jabet's Ash, where the mayor and
aldermen, hitherto her constant satellites, with the
usual ceremonies, took their leave."
The princess received various proofs of liberality
and loyalty from the city of Coventry. It is re
corded that, at New-Year's tide, 160 5, a present
was made her from the corporation, more service
able than elegant ; namely, " a pair of fat oxen,
value eighteen pounds."
The state in which EUzabeth lived, young as she
Avas, may be conceived, when it is known that her
household, together with that of Prince Henrv —
both chUdren — amounted to a hundred and forty-
one persons ; fifty-six above, and eighty-five below,
stairs. The prince's, indeed, became afterwards
considerably increased, for he is said, at last, to
have entertained no less than four hundred and
twenty-six persons, of whom, two hundred and

aUEEN 6F BOHEMIA. 13
ninety-seven Avere in the receipt of salaries, besides
the workmen employed under Inigo Jones.*
Had some of the treasure, squandered by her
father on the pomp of her infancy, been less pro
fusely distributed, the destitute Queen of Bohemia
might not in vain have begged supplies to prevent
her entire ruin ; but James, as thoughtless as
wickedly extravagant and unprincipled, cared only
for the present moment, and never cast a glance
towards the future. It was only Avhen his pur
veyors actually refused to furnish provisions for the
royal table, and when his treasurer was surrounded
in his carriage by the inferior officers of the Court,
clamouring for the arrears of their salaries, that
King James was startled from his visions of wealth
and splendour to discover that riches can make
themselves wings and flee away. In seven years,
this Solomon of England had contrived to owe
six hundred thousand pounds, and dared to ask the
country for tAvo hundred thousand a year, in ad
dition to his income, in order to prevent the recur
rence of his distresses !
From the peaceful enjoyment of the society of his
fair young charge and his fine family. Lord Harring
ton .was suddenly roused by the discovery of that fear
ful conspiracy which alarmed aU Europe, and threat
ened destruction to so many illustrious personages.
The design of the conspirators, in the famous Gun-
* See Archffiologia.

14 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
powder plot, Avas to obtain possession of the persons
of Prince Henry and the Princess EUzabeth, pro
bably with an intention of educating the latter in
the tenets of the Catholic faith, precisely according
to the plan formerly devised against Queen Eliza
beth ; to which ArabeUa Stuart, then a cliUd, was
to be made subservient. In both cases the scheme
was abortive; but the whole country was seized
with a panic, from which it took long to recover.
It had been contemplated to carry off the princess
forcibly, from the house of Lord Harrington, who,
when this came to be knoAvn, caused her to be
conducted to Coventry, and placed in more security
than he could afford her. His alarm seems very
great ; for he thus writes : —
" I am not yet recovered from the fever occasioned
by these disturbances. I went, with Sir Fulke
Greville, to alarm the neighbourhood and surprise
the vUlains who came to Holbach : was out five
days in peril of death, in fear of the great charge I
left at home. Wynter hath confessed their design
to surprise the princess at my house : if their wick
edness had taken place in London, some of them
say, she would have been proclaimed Queen. Her
highness doth often say, ' What a Queen should I
have been by this means ?' and, ' I had rather have
been with my father in the Parliament house, than
wear his crown on such terms ! ' "
The true men of Coventry exerted aU their

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA, 15
energies on this occasion, as their municipal records
stUl show; the corporation annals for the year
1605 giving account of aU the pikes, partisans,
black-biUs, bows, and corslets, delivered "forth
of the armory for Lady Elizabeth's guard."
When the danger was considered over, she was
re-conducted, by her faithful friends, to Combe
Abbey, to resume her studies and amusements ; from
whence she wrote a French letter to her brother 
always her beloved correspondent, and one to whom
she especially looked up — and concludes by this
quotation, " If God be for us, who shaU be against
us?" The French language was already famiUar
to her, and she both spoke and Avrote it with great
correctness. She writes to her brother, at all
times, in a strain of affection pecuUarly touching ;
and, though he is sometimes said to have deUghted
in thwarting her, probably out of joke, he, doubt
less, returned her tenderness.
" I give you," she writes, " a mUlion of thanks
for the servant you sent ; but more for your kind
letter, taking few things so joyfully as to hear of
your health ; and, though I cannot requite you with
so pleasant a token, yet are these few lines a testi
mony of the affection of her whom you shall ever
find your loving sister. I received your most wel
come letters, highly esteeming them as delightful
memorials of your brotherly love, in which, as
suredly, I AAdll ever endeavour to equal you, esteeming

¦ 16 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
that time happiest when I enjoyed your com
pany, and desiring nothing more than the fruition
of it again, that as nature has made us nearest in
our love together, so accident might not separate
us from living together; neither do I account the
least part of my present comfort that though I am
deprived of your happy presence, yet I can make
these lines deliver this true message, that I wUl
ever be dm-ing life yours."
These -letters AA^ere sealed with wax, fantastically
adorned with fioss sUk, and sometimes the name of
Elizabeth was inscribed on them with letters of
gold ; the wax was interwoven with green and gold
threads, and, altogether, the princess's letters must
have been pretty to behold ; at the same time, there
is a certain formality and measured propriety in
the style which creates a doubt whether they were
really dictated by a young girl of nine years old.
She, of course, wrote them to her brother ; but it
is more than probable that Lord Harrington was
'himself the composer of epistles worthy of a person
of more advanced age and inteUect
It is true that chUdren, at this period, were
instructed, from their tenderest years, to discuss
the most abstruse subjects, and to study much that
was far above their comprehension; but, though
tutored to appear learned, and capable of sustaining
a pubhc examination, as Prince Charles is said to
have been in theology, before he was eleven years of

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 17
age, yet nature cannot be forced, and wUl peep out,
particularly in famUiar converse. If any letters,
undictated by her careful and anxious governor,
could reaUy be found, or ever existed, from Eliza
beth to her brother, they would, indeed, be inter
esting. The only thing surprising, in those days
of ceremony and artificial existence, is, that natural
feeUngs and manners should ever be aUowed to
have their way.
Who can read the foUowing extracts from
EUzabeth's letters, and not rather attribute them,
if not to her govemor, to the erudition of her older,
and accomplished friend, Lucy, who no doubt
was not sorry to have an opportunity of dis
playing her acquirements, whUe she assisted the
princess in composing letters which were sure to
be seen and commented upon. There is no reason
why a practice so common amongst young people
should not have occurred at that period as well as
at the present ; but no one acquainted with chUd
hood can beUeve that such senteiices as occur in
these epistles could be other than school phrases ;
such as are sometimes read with delight by parents
even at the present day.
Elizabeth, in one letter, assures her brother,
" that her mind continually dweUs upon his divine
perfections, and that such is the love which is
seated in her heart, that a million of streams would
not suffice to exhaust the source."
VOL. II. C

18 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Again :
" I beseech you to beUeve that these lines with
which I trouble you, and which, primd facie, might
be stigmatized for idle babble, are but so many
streams flowing from the great ocean of my affec
tions, and the pledges of that obedience which I am
ready to yield to your mandates."
She occasionaUy reproaches her brother tenderly
for his negligence in answering her epistles.
"Let us," she vtrites, " suspend, I conjure you, the
sUence that has but too long estranged us. Separated
in our persons, in our letters let us still meet and
commune together; and let me hope that my
dearest brother wiU accept mine as a pledge of the
affection Avith which I would fain dedicate to him
my future life."
" I would fain hope the same good fortune may
accompany this, on its fiight to Royston, that
attended its predecessor, which followed, or rather
pursued, you to Newmarket. These winged mes
sengers of mine, continually fiuttering round your
highness, have, at least, the fleetness of the dove,
and afford ample proof that they are unencumbered
with substance."
How little do these sounding phrases accord Avith
the childish deUght of the princess when taken to the
Tower to see the bears ; but pedantry and frivolity

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 19
combined was then the order of the day : her royal
father, after " peppering " bishops with his learn
ing, loved to solace himself, twice a week, at a cock
fight. So important did he consider this inteUectual
amusement that, as Lingard observes, the united
salaries of two secretaries of state amounted to no
more than the two hundred per annum bestowed
on the master of the cocks. Strange, indeed, were
the contradictions displayed at this Court, where the
ladies one day Avrote and discoursed like learned
clerks, and the next were seen to " abandon sobriety
and roll about in intoxication."
The letters vpritten by Elizabeth to Prince Henry,
on her removal to Court, are much less formal ; she
had now a livelier subject, and was encouraged by
her mother — a young and frivolous woman — in all
the gaieties of the hour. It was but natural that
she should take deUght in amusements so suited to
her age, for she had neither the mind of Lady Jane
Grey, nor her reasons for preferring solitude : she
urges her brother, playfuUy, to give up aU other
occupations, and come to take his part in the
masques preparing; and her little bits of bad Italian,
amusingly introduced, are much more likely to be
genuine than the solemn sentences which were sent
from Combe Abbey.
Young Henry was much attached to his interest
ing sister ; and it was not long before, being now
frequently together, they imbibed the same senti
ments on most questions of importance; in par-
c 2

20 EMINENT ENGLISHA^SOMEN.
ticular, they mutually resolved to do aU in their
power to support the reformed religion, and to
undergo any perils rather than abandon it. Eliza
beth soon caught the ardour and miUtary enthu
siasm which distinguished her brother, and, pro
bably, his romantic desire for glory was shared by
her, and greatly influenced her future fortunes.
Time wore on, and the beautiful EUzabeth was
now nearly sixteen : amongst her many suitors, he
who was chosen by her father was Frederic, Count
Palatine of the Rhine. This choice by no means
pleased the Queen, who would rather have seen her
daughter the Avife of a man of superior rank ; and
was mortified to think that she should be addressed
by a meaner title than " Majesty." Anne of Den
mark, therefore, opposed this match by every means
in her power, and exerted aU her wit and con
temptuous irony to rouse her daughter's pride, and
prevent her agreeing to the wishes of her father,
his ministers, and the people. As usual, James
was not guided by any very exalted motives in this
selection ; but, finding that it would be a popular
measure, he resolved to brave his wife's anger, of
which he generally stood in much awe; and he thus
placed himseK in a position more likely to please
his subjects than any he had hitherto sought for.
Prince Henry was, of course, highly satisfied ; and
the mortified Queen found herself in the minority ;
for her daughter, when she tauntingly asked her if
she would be content to be called " Goody Pals-

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 21
grave," replied, it is said, with firmness, " I would
rather marry a Protestant count than a CathoUc
emperor." The brother and sister were even more than
ever united in affection by this proposed event,
which promised to further the great work which
their enthusiastic minds contemplated— that of
spreading the Protestant reUgion over Europe, and
rendering it more firm and pure everywhere.
Miss Benger, in her life of EUzabeth Stuart, thus
relates an incident, proving the regard she always
evinced for the prince, by taking part in his
occupations, and supporting and encouraging all
those who interested him.
" She gave a stiU. more pleasing trait of sym
pathy, in distinguishing Avith kindness those who
shared her brother's patronage, more especially
those whom he had protected from unmerited hos
tility. Among these, the weU-known Phineas Pett,*
* " Phineas Pett was born at Deptford, and, educated at a free
school, had risen by his own efforts from indigent obscurity. In
1603, being in distress, he was advised to buUd a yacht for the
young Prince Henry, for his own private recreation. This vessel
haying been finished in two months, was presented to the prince,
by whom Pett was graciously received. He then worked a model,
which was shown to James ; after which he was generally
favoured at Court until, by the artifices of rival shipwrights, strong
distrust was excited of his ability, and he was summoned by the
Lord Admiral to answer, at a public examination, the charges
preferred against him, the King, the Prince of W^ales, and several
officers of state being present. During this mock trial, which
lasted twelve hours, the shipwrights were ranged on one side of
the room, his Majesty and his officers on the other. Atone

2f .EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
one of the most ingenious naval architects of his
day, has left a record of the favours conferred on
his wife by the Lady EUzabeth, to which he was,
perhaps, the more sensible, since they were admini
stered at a moment when he saw himseK exposed
to the malice of his enemies. After the triumph of
Pett, Henry, anxious to offer reparation to the
wounded feelings of his protege, induced his sister
to accompany him to visit his humble abode at
Woolwich, where she lavished on his wife the most
cordial demonstrations of kindness.
" After his acquittal, Pett was employed in
building a man-of-war, which was launched in the
summer of 1612, a few weeks before the public
announcement of Elizabeth's intended nuptials; and
in this ship, called from its iUustrious sponsor, ' The
o'clock, his majesty called for his dinner, after which the debate
was resumed ; and Pett continued to debate, article by article, on
his knees. ' The dispute was begun,' says Pett, ' by Lord Nor
thampton ; and sometimes by' Baker, sometimes by Stevens,
Beight, and Clay, all shipwrights ; sometimes confused by all,
and, which was worse, his majesty's countenance still bent on me,
so that I was almost disheartened, and out of breath ; albeit the
prince's highness standing near me, from time to time encouraged
me, as far as he might, without offence to his father, labouring to
have me eased by standing up ; but his Majesty would not permit
it. His majesty afterwards examined the materials which had
been depreciated, declaring the cross grain was in the me^n, not in
the timber.'^'
The king continued to investigate, pretending to be competent
to decide on the subject, and finally declared that the ship was
right in every point, and the accusation groundless. Upon which
the prince exclaimed aloud, ' Where be those perjured fellows
that dare abuse the king's majesty with their false accusations ?
Do they not worthily deserve hanging?" — Archceologia.

QUEEN OE BOHEMIA. 23
Prince,' was the royal bride afterwards wafted from
her native shores. Little did the princess imagine,"
feelingly remarks Miss Benger, " on that day when
she sat on the deck by Henry's side, in anxious
expectation of a propitious tide, that she should so
soon enter it bereaved of him who had been at once
the playmate, the brother, the friend of her happy
chUdhood, almost the only being vrith whom she
could enjoy that equaUty which is essential to per
fectly harmonious friendship."
The young King of Spain, and the Prince of Pied
mont, were the other pretenders to the hand of
Elizabeth, but to each of them the wishes of the
country were opposed ; and Count Frederic arrived
in England, accompanied by the sincere congratula
tions of the whole nation, and was received with
enthusiasm by all except the mother of his intended
bride, who seemed resolved to show her vexation
that the Spanish monarch, who had her preference,
was not the fortunate suitor on this occasion.
Her love of pomp and show appears to have
been the chief cause for this desire on her part, no
consideration either of the country's, or her daugh
ter's good, having influenced her choice ; and it was
some time before she would condescend to treat the
Palsgrave with anything like kindness. The young
lover, however, was resolved to soften her heart by
his devotion and assiduity ; nevertheless it was not
apparently his good qualities which caused Queen

24 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Anne to alter her conduct and take him into
favour, but the splendour of his presents, which
were showered upon her and her attendants so
lavishly, that even James himself thought it requi
site to bid him hold his hand.
To Lord and Lady Harrington he presented on
his marriage gold and gUt plate to the value of two
thousand pounds ; and to their servants four hun
dred pounds, which was on his part sufficiently
royal ; but we learn, shortly after Elizabeth's
marriage, that she found to her great mortification
that her father, who could find money for aU his
extravagances, had never defrayed the expenses of
her residence vvith the kind friends vdth whom she
had passed her youth.
To aU the princess's servants the Count gave a
hundred pounds a piece, and a " medalia with his
picture;" to her chief gentleman -usher a chain,
worth one hundred and fifty pounds.
To the dear friend of EUzabeth he gave a chain
of pearls and diamonds, worth five hundred pounds ;
to the Prince Charles a rapier and pair of spurs set
Viith diamonds ; to the king, a bottle " of one entire
agate,* containing two quarts, esteemed a very rare
and- rich jewel; to the Queen, a very fair cup of
agate and a jewel ; and to his mistress, a rich chain
of diamonds ; a tire for her head, all of diampnds ;
two very rich pendant diamonds for her ears, and,
• Winwood.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 25
above all, two pearls, for bigness and fashion and
beauty esteemed the rarest that are to be found in
Christendom, insomuch that the jewels bestowed on
her are valued by men of skUl above thirty- six
thousand pounds. He was pm'posed to show the
like bounty towards the King and Queen's ser
vants and officers, but the King directly forbade it.
The Queen is noted to have given no great grace
nor favour to this match, and there is doubt will do
less hereafter!'
The foUowing letter proves the honourable man
ner of the young count's treatment by the city,
and announces the Ulness of the Prince :
MB. JOHN CHAMBERLAIN TO SIE RALPH AVINWOOD.
" London, 3d. Nov. 1612.
" You have heard long since of the Count
Palatine's prosperous passage, and aU the manner
of his reception and entertainment. He is now
lodged in the court, in the late Lord Treasurer's
lodgings, and doth carry hunself so weU and
gracefully, that he hath the love and liking of
all, saving some Papists or Popishly affected,
whereof divers have been caUed coram, for dis
graceful speeches of him; and, among the rest,
as I hear, Sir Robert Drury : who, because he
was not entertained perhaps by him or his, as
his vanity expected, began to talk maliciously.
But the king is much pleased in him, and so

26 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
is aU the Court : and he doth so address himself,
and apply to the Lady Elizabeth, that he seems
to take delight in nothing but her company and
conversation. Yesternight her Grace invited him
to a solemn supper and a play, and they meet
often at meals without curiosity of bidding.* On
Sunday was sevennight, he dined with the King
and Prince in the Privy-chamber, but sat bare all
the time, either by custom or to bear the Prince
company — who never came abroad since that day,
being [taken suddenly Ul],^ — and hath continued
a Quotidian ever since Wednesday last, and with
more violence than it began; so that, on Sunday
he was let blood by the advice of most physicians,
tho' Butler of Cambridge was loth to consent.
That afternoon he was very sick, so that both King,
Queen, and the Lady Elizabeth, went severally
to visit him, and reveUing and plays appointed
for that night were put off : but the next moming
he was somewhat amended, and so continues for
aught I hear yet. He and the Count Palatine
were invited, and had promised to be at the Lord
Mayor's feast on Thursday last, and great prepara
tions were made for them, but, by this accident,
he failed. The Count Palatine and his com
pany after they had seen the show in Cheap-
side, (which was somewhat extraordinary, with
four or five pageants and other devices,) went
to GuildhaU, and were there plentifully feasted
* i. e. without the ceremony of invitation.

QUEEN ol' BOHEMIA. 27
and welcomed by Sir John Swinerton, the new
Lord Mayor, and presented, toward the end of
dinner, Avith a fair standing cup, a fair bason
and ewer, and two large livery pots, weighing
together toward 1,200 ounces, (to the value of
almost 500/.) in the name of the city.
" The Merchant Adventurers had sent him a
present of wine the Saturday before, to the value
of one hundred marks. If the Prince's sickness
do not hinder, the King means to go towards
Royston on Friday, and, 'tis thought, carries the
young count along with him.
" Judge Yelverton died on Friday last of very
age, and Sir Edward Darcy, that was the Privy
chamber to Queen Elizabeth."

In the midst of all the rejoicings and prepara
tions for Elizabeth's marriage, came that fatal blow
which deprived England of an heir, and which
fiUed every heart with mourning. A paraUel to
the universal sorrow may be found in the death of
the Princess Charlotte two centuries after, for he
like her was mourned by
" The land that loved liim so that none could love him best."
When so young, so loved, so promising a prince
is torn away vpithout warning given, the sudden
bereavement naturaUy gives rise to surmises and
rumours suggested by astonished sorrow: even

28 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
those nearest, and who should be dearest, -do not
always escape censure or suspicion : and so it was
with the father of the beloved prince, to whom the
nation looked as to a saviour, disgusted as the
people had reason to be, with the selfishness,
extravagance, and frivoUty of the present sovereign.
Several writers of the day. Sir John Chamber
lain in particular, do not hesitate to express their
doubts as to the fairness of his death: and the
causes which might have made his removal neces
sary to certain parties are freely discussed, as in
the foUowing rather mysterious extracts :
SIR R. NAUNTON TO SIR R. AVINWOOD.
"17 Nov. 1612.
" Touching our Paladium which we have lost,
I hold it neither fit to write what I conceive, and
less fit to be written to your Lordship. It is given
out by his confidents that he had a design to have
come over with the Palsgrave, and have drawn
Count Maurice along with him, with some promises,
and done some exploit upon the place that shot
the Palsgrave's Harbinger, and happily to have seen
the Landgrave's daughter, or I know not what.
That this he meant to have done, whatsoever it was,
clam Patrem et senatum suum, and hatching some
secret design, which was made subject to miscon
struction, it is now become abortive, like that of
Henry IVth. of France. Sir Henry NeviUe told

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 29
me he had vowed that never idolater should come
into his bed, and was ascertained that, in his sick
ness, he applied this chastisement for a deserved
punishment upon him, for having ever opened his
ears to admit treaty of a Popish match."

The grief of the princess was extreme on the
sad loss of so beloved a brother, and, it is said, the
sympathy shown in her sorrows by the Count
Palatine, endeared him to her, and rendered her
perfectly wUling to ratify her father's promise.
The ceremony of their marriage was necessarily
postponed, and three months were aUowed to
elapse before he was to call her his bride. This
appears but a short period of mom'ning for so
great a misfortune, and the sad event might well
have excused the Court from entering into any
great expense on the occasion; but, so far from
embracing an opportunity to show some consi
deration to economy, the marriage only gave
occasion for even more unbounded extravagance
than formerly. James and his thoughtless Queen,
neither of whom showed much feeling on their
son's death, and both of whom soon apparently
forgot it in newer considerations, gave a loose to
their appetite for pomp and display, and the whole
Court was in confusion with the gorgeousness of
preparation.

30 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
To defray a part only of the senseless expense
he chose to incur, James levied the feudal aid* of
twenty shUlings on every knight's fee, and on every
twenty pounds of lands held in soccage. This
produced twenty thousand pounds, but the total
expense amounted to fifty-three thousand two
hundred and ninety four pounds, exclusive of the
bride' s portion of forty thousand pounds !
The "triumphs and shows" that ensued are beyond
all description, and far from pleasing to hear of, when
the state of the exchequer is considered, and the late
bereavement to the kingdom remembered. One
viriter says : " It were to no end to write of the
curiosity and excess of bravery of both men and
women, with the extreme daubing on of cost and
riches." Ladies in gowns which cost fifty pounds
a yard, jewels, embroidery, and every species of
luxury in dress and ornament abounded, and the
whole scene was one blaze of treasure : but a
gloom, which could not be dispeUed, hung over
all : the phantom death was too clearly seen
lording it over all, and the masques and revels
were Avitnessed without gaiety or mirth.
It is recorded that the only instance of hilarity
displayed was Ul timed, and, by the superstitious,
considered ominous : the fair bride, in her flowing
tresses bound with a coronet of gold, and followed
by her twenty noble bridesmaids in white robes, rich
* Lingard.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 31
with embroidery, was more than usually lively on
the occasion, and, whether from lightness of heart
or some hysterical affection caused by recollections
which " Had no business there at such a time,''
disturbed the solemnity of the scene by a low titter
which soon burst into a loud laugh.*
It was on Valentine's day, 1613, that this
alliance took place with such infinite pomp and
gorgeousness ; and aU that painters, poets, and
musicians could invent, was done to show honour
to the young pair, whose union was looked upon
as propitious to the kingdom and to religion; so
short-sighted is man !
The poets, Donne and Daniel, and others equally
prosaic, showered bad verses on the bride and
bridegroom, proving that they had neither the
genius nor the power of divination attributed to
bards. Little better than the following was pro
duced : —
" Thy happy bridegroom. Prince Count Palatine,
Now thy best friend and truest Valentine,
Upon whose brow my mind doth read the story
Of mighty fame, and a true future glory."
Amongst many accounts given of the bridal, is
the foUowing, from a pamphlet printed in England
in 1613, which sets forth that —
* Lingard, and others.

32 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" EUzabeth was clad in white satin, richly em
broidered with silver. Upon her head, a crown of
refined gold, made imperial by the pearls and
diamonds thereon placed, which were so thickly
set, that they stood like shining pinnacles over
her amber coloured hair hanging down over her
shoulders to the waist. Between every plait a roll
or list of gold spangles, pearls, and rich stones : and
diamonds of inestimable value were embroidered on
her sleeves.
" The -King was in a magnificent suit of black,
with a single diamond in his hat. The Queen was
in white satin, ornamented with a profusion of
diamonds. In the chapel, the Eing sat in the
chair of state, on the right, Avearing jewels valued
at six hundred thousand pounds ; opposite to him
was the Queen, whose jewels were supposed to be
worth four hundred thousand pounds. The royal
party were aU placed on the haut pas, or throne.
None but persons of the first quality came into
the chapel.
"First, the choristers sang an anthem; then the
Bishop of Bath and Wells preached a sermon
from the text referring to the marriage of Cana in
Galilee. After the sermon, another anthem was
sung, taken from the psalm, ' Blessed art thou that
fearest God.' While the choir were singing this
anthem, the Archbishop and Bishop robed, and,
having ascended the haut pas or throne, the young
couple were married according to the form in

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 33
the Prayer Book, the prince speaking in English.
The King's majesty gave the bride away. After
the ceremony, the herald having proclaimed largesse,
the King gave the joy-Ipocras : wine and wafers
were produced from the vestry. After tasting the
wafers, a health was begun to the prosperity of the
marriage by the Prince Palatine, which was an
swered by the princess and others in their order."
The number of the princess's attendants is
variously reported, from twelve to twenty : some
say both she and the Palatine had each sixteen of
the nobUity in their train, to number the years they
had passed — hitherto all summers !
After the ceremony of the marriage — in which,
some say, the word obey was left out — a dinner of
fifty-two guests, which lasted three whole hours,
succeeded ; then a tedious ballet on the subject of
Orpheus, which tired every one out, until the King,
'¦' saturated with watching," was obliged to declare
that he could hold out no longer, and put off the
rest of the interminable pageants prepared, till a
future day.
The students of Gray's Inn and the Inner
Temple appear to have been greatly disappointed
at the non-success of their device at the moment it
was to have been presented, for the King having
admired the riding, dressing, invention, and, above
all, the dancing, of the learned gentlemen of the
Middle Temple and Lincoln's Inn, tiU he was
VOL. IT. D

34 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
ready to drop with fatigue, declined seeing any
more ; and the second pageant of the marriage of
the Thames to the Rhine, boats, barges, lights, and
fireworks, aU prepared at a cost of three hundred
pounds, was forced to retum as it came, without
exhibiting at all.
The Thames and the Rhine, however, would not
be thus driven back without an effort, and, after
" much repining and contradiction," the actors dis
played their skUl in the new banqueting-house,
and were rewarded by the King with a supper,
which sent them aU away in good humour, though,
probably, their play had been witnessed by the
weary Court as impatiently and sullenly as when
Hippolita sneered at the " tedious, brief tragi
comedy" of Pyramus and Thisbe, presented for her
amusement by the gallant Theseus.
The Queen's disinclination to the match every
now and then became too apparent, and she spared
her. daughter no mortification which her Ul-hiimour
suggested ; for this, the gratification evinced by the
people and the city made some amends, and the
bride received with pleasure a present from the Lord
Mayor and aldermen, of a chain of pearls vrorth two
thousand pounds. The universities of Oxford and
Cambridge vied with each other in attentions to the
Palatine ; but in the midst of these civilities, a sud
den fit of economy, on the part of the King, undid
all that had pleased before, and annoyed the young
couple exceedingly.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 35
Just before the time fixed for EUzabeth's depar
ture from England, with her husband, their house
hold was suddenly broken up, and the greatest
part of their attendants dismissed. In a letter from
Sir J. Chamberlain to Sir Ralph Winwood, the
occurrence is thus commented on : —
" lOth March, 1613.
" Since my last of the 23d Feb., I received yours
of the 20th, and wish you many such windfalls as
it mentions from Count Maurice, and aU little
enough considering the charge that is now coming
towards you by the Lady Elizabeth's passage :
though I am of opinion that her train wUl not be
so great by many degrees as was expected, for we
devise all the means we can to cut off expense, and
not Avithout cause, being come ad fundum and to
the very lees of our best liquor, else should not
the Palsgrave's house be so abruptly broken up
and the most part of bis company dissolved and
sent away so suddenly, presently after the King
going to Newmarket, which the Lady Elizabeth's
Highness took very grievously, and not vsithout
cause, but that necessity hath no law. The number
and quality of her attendants varies every day :
some say the Lords go no further than Bachrach,
and that Dr, Martin, the King's advocate, and Mr.
Levinus, are the sole commissioners for settling and
looking at the jointure : the time of her departure
also varies in common report, being, they say, put
D 2

36 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
off from the Sth of AprU tiU after St. George's Day,
that they may have fair moon-light nights at sea.
" The Palsgrave hath presented the Queen with an
exceedingly fine carosse, made in France, of pale
coloured velvet, richly embroidered in gold and
sUver, both within and without ; with six horses
and two coachmen all in the same livery, and the
wheels and the iron - work richly gilded and
curiously wrought, valued at eight or nine thou
sand pounds at least. He hath dealt bountifully
also to Sir Henry Saville, and sent him two fine
standing cups with a basin and ewer all gilt, to the
value of better than fifty pounds, in requital of his
Crysostum he presented him withal : besides five
pounds to the man that brought it."

In lieu of hospitality, James was content to treat
his son-in-law with more shows, and a grand tUting
match was prepared — in which, Wotton observes,
" in despite of a wet day and the disgrace of their
plumes the gallants performed nobly."
Amongst the sights of London, the young pair
visited the Tower, and looked over the armoury ;
Elizabeth volunteering, with a boldness which
deUghted those present, to apply the match herself
to the great cannon which was to be discharged in
their honour.
The unsuccessful application of the bridegroom
to King James in favour of Lord Grey, accused of
holding communication with the now distracted

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 37
ArabeUa Stuart, has already been mentioned ;* and
deeply mortified must Elizabeth have been to find
she possessed so little infiuence in her famUy that
she was not even permitted to regulate her own
household. Her former protectress. Lady Harring
ton, was, however, granted to her desire, and she
was not denied the society of her young friend,
Ann Dudley, as well as that of her preceptor,
Dr. Chapman.
As if pleased to get rid of expensive guests, the
King seemed now resolved to speed their departure
with all necessary pomp, and appointed a convoy
of seven vessels, commanded by the Lord Admiral
the Earl of Nottingham, of Armada fame, in
person. The royal parents accompanied their
chUdren to Rochester on their way to Margate,
where they were to embark; and young Prince
Charles was aUowed to go with them as far as
Canterbury, where they aU lodged for several days
in the dean's palace, most honourably treated.
The grief of the young princess was very great
in parting from her native shores and all she loved
in her family ; sad thoughts of her lost brother,
Henry, no doubt mingled with her regret, and a
thousand fears and anxieties must have awaked
in her mind, as she stepped on board the vessel
which Pett had buUt under the auspices of that
promising prince whose star was set for ever.
The vessel was a fine one, carried fifty-four
* See her Life in Vol. I.

38 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
guns, and had accommodation for six hundred men.
On board were, besides the Elector and his bride,
and the Admiral, Lord and Lady Harrington and
their suite. The vice-admiral, Govemor Effing
ham, was in the " Royal Anne," in which, also,
embarked the Duke of Lennox, the first royal
commissioner. The Earl of Arundel and his coun
tess and suite were in the ship "Assurance." The
" Repulse" and " Red Lion" lodged Viscount Lisle
and General Cecil, other commissioners ; in the
" Destiny" the legal commissioner. Dr. Martin, and
in the " Rear-Admiral" was Mr. Levin Monk, the
sixth commissioner. Smaller ships followed in the
train of these ; and gallant and gaily the fleet set
saU, with the beautiful bride and her attached and
interesting husband.*
But, as if ominous of the ill fortune which
awaited them, they had scarcely put out to sea,
when the indications of an approaching storm
warned them to return, which they were obUged
to do ; but, so careless were the parents of the
bride as to her fate, thus embarking as she was
for a foreign shore, on a treacherous element,
that, instead of lingering near the coast, that every
rumour of their appearance might be reported to
their anxious ears, and watching their sail
" TiU the diminution of space had pointed them
Sharp as a needle — and then
Have turn'd their eyes and wept" 
the volatUe and indifferent father and mother were

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 39
already far away, on a progress of pleasure, as if
their " part in her was done." Prince Maurice, of
Nassau, uncle of the bridegroom, however, showed
kindlier concern for the voyagers, for he sent a
pilot-boat from Flushing, vrith Professor More, an
able navigator, to guide the EngUsh fleet to the
destined port. When they arrived at Flushing,
Maurice came on board to welcome them ; and •
Stow teUs how " the town and garrison sent forth a
volley which made the heavens and earth to echo."
Great was the enthusiasm with which the daugh
ter of the King of England was greeted by the
free and generous people of the repubUc, who had
reason to be grateful for the friendship of that
nation ; and as the lovely Elizabeth waUced un-
veUed through the streets, the acclamations of the
spectators were louder than the clarions which
haUed her arrival.
A series of triumphs attended the "Pearl of
Britain," as she was designated, wherever she
appeared, and a ruinous expense incurred, which,
from its profusion, seems almost incredible. Both
Frederic and Elizabeth were so young that they can
scarcely be blamed for their unbounded extrava
gance ; for, true it is that their conduct was that
of children allowed to run unchecked into every
soft of wild foUy ; and that such a pair were unfit
to govern appears but too clear; the example of
the King and Queen of England was closely fol
lowed by them, and they appeared to strive how

40 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
far they could outdo aU the fatal waste they had
been witness to.
Even in HoUand, where there was no Court, and
simpUcity of manners prevaUed, Prince Maurice
for a whUe, to do honour to his fair and admired
guest, became a courtier, and clothed himself in
gala attUe, instead of his usual coarse, wooUen
garb ; and he, who laughed at luxury, and taunted
the epicure. Lord Hay, when sent ambassador to
him, by giving him only two dishes, one a boiled,
the other a roasted pig, now condescended to
preside at feasts, and be as gay as the celebrated
courtier himself, of whom and of his bravery, an
account is amusingly given by WUson, in his His
tory of James the First, when, in 1616, he was sent
as ambassador extraordinary to France, to congra
tulate the King on his marriage with the Infanta.
" And who is fitter for that employment, being
only for courtship and bravery, than the Lord
Hayes, afterwards Viscount Doncaster and Earl
of Carlisle, a gentleman whose composition of mind
tended that way ? He was born in Scotland, where
bravery was in no superfiuity, bred up in France,
where he could not have it in extravagance; but
he found it in England, and made it his vanity.
The King had a large hand and he had a large
heart, and, though he were no great favourite ever,
yet he was never but in favour. He, with a great
train of young noblemen and other courtiers of

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 41
eminency, suited themselves with aU those ornaments
that could give lustre to so dazzling an appearance,
as love and the congratulation of it carried with it.
" AU the study was, who should be most
glorious; and he had the happiest fancy whose
invention could express something novel, neat, and
unusual, that others might admire. So that Hun
tingdon's prophecy was fulfiUed here, when, speak
ing of the time of the Scots' conquest of England,
he said, ' Multimodce variatione vestium et indumen-
torum designaretur.' I remember I saw one pf the
Lord Ambassador's suits, and, pardon me that I
take notice of such petty things, the cloak and
hose were made of very fine white beaver, embroi
dered richly aU over with gold and sUver ; the
cloak, almost to the cape within and without,
having no lining but embroidery. The doublet
was cloth of gold, embroidered so thick that it
could not be discerned, and a white beaver hat
suitable, brimful of embroidery both above and
below. This is presented as an assay for one of
the meanest he wore, so that if this relation should
last longer than his old clothes the reader might
well think it a romance savouring rather of fancy
than reality.
" But this kind of vanity had been long active
in England. ***** Thus accoutred and ac
complished he went into France, and, a day for
audience being prefixed, all the argument and dis
pute betwixt him and his gallant train, which took

42 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
up some time, was, how they should go to Court.
Coaches, like curtains, would eclipse their splendour;
riding on horseback in boots would make them look
like traveUers, not courtiers; and not having all
foot clothes it would be an unsuitable mixture.
"Those that brought rich trappings for their
horses were wiUing to have them seen, so it was
concluded for the footcloth, and those that have
none, to their bitter cost, must furnish themselves.
" This preparation begot expectation, and that
filled aU the windows, balconies, and streets of
Paris as they passed, with a multitude of spectators.
Six trumpeters and two marshals in tawney velvet
liveries, completely suited, laced all over with gold,
richly and closely laid, led the way, the ambassador
followed with a great train of pages and footmen
in the same rich livery, encircling his horse and
the rest of his retinue according to their qualities
and degrees in as much bravery as they could
devise or procure, foUowed in couples, to the won
derment of the beholders ; and some said, how
truly I cannot assert, the ambassador's horse Avas
shod with silver shoes, lightly tacked on ; and
when he came to a place where persons or beauties
of eminence were, his Very horse, prancing and
curveting, in humble reverence, flung liis shoes
away, which the greedy understanders scrambled
for ; and he was content to be gazed on and
admired, tUl a farrier, or rather the argentier, in
one of his rich liveries, among his train of footmen.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 43
out of a tawney velvet bag took others and tacked
them on, which lasted tiU he came to the next
troop of grandees. And thus, Avith much ado, he
reached the Louvre."
The reflection of the quaint historian on the
extravagance of the time is much to the pm-pose,
and suits equaUy that which attended EUzabeth
and her husband : —
" I know not what limit or bounds are set to
the glories of Prince's Courts, or nobles' minds.
We see the sea itseU and all its tributary rivers
do ebb and fiow, but if they swell so high to over
flow that bank that reason hath prescribed to keep
them in, what inundations of sad mischief follow
experience shows ! "
Prince Maurice, wiUing that the bridal party
should find no lack of splendour and welcome on
his part, accordingly exerted himself to the utmost,
and attended the bride in the most devoted and
gaUant manner imaginable. When she took leave
of the admiral. Lord Nottingham, she gave him a
letter to her father, relating how well she had been
received in Holland, and attributing aU to the zeal
of the Prince and people for his Majesty, to whom
she professed her belief that she owed aU, though,
of course, she was inwardly convinced that her
own beauty and the expectations formed of her,
were the chief causes of her popularity. Whether
James felt any pang for the coldness with which

44 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
he had dismissed the new-married pair, is not
recorded; but it is more than probable that his
conscience reproached him with the selfishness he
had displayed.
From town to town the Electress, conveyed
by the gaUant Prince Maurice, everywhere met
with hearty welcome and rejoicing : at the Hague,
a grand hunting match was made for her amuse
ment, at which she performed a feat thought
worthy of record, for it is frequently named with
commendation of her skiU : she shot a deer, and
thus proved herself as skilful in wood craft as in
gunnery. Leyden, Haarlem, and Amsterdam, opened their
gates with delight to the beautiful traveller, who
enjoyed the novelty of visiting places so full of
interest and excitement : nothing escaped her
observation ; and, with all the vivacity of youth,
she explored every scene that possessed attrac
tion either from its historical recoUections or
intrinsic merit. At Amsterdam, she was particu
larly delighted — went through the tovra and
ascended a tower, from which she looked over
thirty cities : triumphal arches and gUded barges
awaited her at every turn; and the Princes of
Nassau met her on the banks of the Rhine with
troops of horse and foot, aU professing themselves
her soldiers, and ready to die in her service.
Stranger princes came forward to offer her their
homage, and, at length, wearied with pomp and

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 45
ceremony, she was not sorry to find herself in the
midst of a fairy fieet which her tender husband
had prepared to surprise her. Frederic had
caused a galley to be built for his Cleopatra, of the
most graceful design ; painted and gilded as if the
Graces themselves had prepared it; and, hovering
round about their guiding star, flitted numbers of
nautilus-like boats propelled with one oar only,
which were so delicate, that it was necessary every
night to transfer them to a large yacht ready for
the purpose.
Along the romantic Rhine, floated the royal
beauty, surrounded by aU that love and luxury
could invent for her gratification ; and, enchanted
with the unrivalled scenery that met her view by
day, she every night landed at a spot rendered
interesting by some tradition, to which she listened
with charmed attention. It is said that she passed
one night in the famous castle of the rat-devoured
miser-bishop, Hatto, not a little excited by the
adventure. AU the towns on the banks sent forth
their hundreds to gaze upon the beautiful vision of
her passage, and all came laden with offerings for
her acceptance ; so that her frail barks could hardly
contain aU the stores brought down to freight them.
But, however pleased with what she saw, EUzabeth
regretted the absence of her lover-husband, who, on
his part, was equally impatient to return to her ; for
he had been obUged to precede, in order to prepare
everything for her reception at his expectant home.

46 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
A German chronicle, quoted by Miss Benger,
gives an animated account of their meeting : —
"The Palsgrave became impatient to see his
beloved consort; and, having collected a troop of
cavaliers, and four companies of soldiers, he trans
ported himself to GUsheim, on the Rhine, where,
having learnt that his princess was off Baacherat,
he entered a yacht, soon descried the fleet, and
hastened to welcome her whom he held most dear
in the world. What joy it was to meet again, it
were needless to say. And now the Elector con
ducted his spouse to GUsheim ; but, lo ! her
approach being rumoured, the princes and their
vessels gather from aU parts to the banks of the
Rhine, and friendly invitations were poured in from
every side. And this day did the Princess first
arrive in the land of the Palatinate, thanks to God,
safe and sound, and gay, and most heartily wel
comed." Then was she borne in triumph from place to
place in her dominions ; sometimes addressed, in
Latin, by zealous, but tediously-learned professors ;
sometimes greeted with rich presents, showered
with garlands and haUed with music. Her ap
proach was the signal for briUiant displays of dress
and drapery, eloquence and song, acting and
saluting, as if the sole business of the world, was,
wherever she stept, to do her honour.
" When'er you walk cool gales shall fan the glade,
Tre'Bs, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade."

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 47
Nature and art alike vied to make their progress
aU light, and life, and joyousness. Pageants and
temples, palaces and bowers, with every god and •
hero, every goddess and nymph, that history and
poetry ever named, were pressed into the service to
pleasure the young Electress, who must, by the
time she reached her home, have been more weary
than King James himself at her wedding.
At length the portals of the palace of Heidel
berg expanded to let in the anxiously-expected
pair — the objects of so much enthusiasm. An angel
hovered above the portal, vrith broad glittering
wings, and the motto displayed was, Deus conjunxit.
The streets through which they passed were covered
with green turf, and every house was hung with
wreaths of May and festoons of flowers of every
colour. Through arches and groves the bride passed
gaUy on, and from one a device — afterwards re
membered as a bad omen — appeared: a crown,
suspended by a sUken cord, was lowered for a
moment on her head, and instantly withdrawn.
But it were in vain to attempt to rehearse ihe
bravery which was displayed on this occasion, or
to foUow the processions, and pass through the
triumphal arches, and hear the orations of learned
boys and erudite magistrates, with which Elizabeth
was accompanied to her castle, and greeted when
Avithin it.
She was not sorry when aU the demonstrations
of loyalty and attachment which bewildered and

48 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
fatigued her were over, and she could indulge her
romantic taste in contemplating the magnificent
• fabric whose waUs echoed with music and revelry
in her honour.
The castle of Heidelberg is raised above the
town three hundred feet, and from a distance she
had beheld its venerable turrets with admiration.
One of the most ancient parts was a tower erected
on a commanding cliff, the scene of one of the
many traditions which belonged to the castle. Here,
she was informed, once dwelt a prophetess, Jetha
Behel, whose oracles were delivered from a con
cealed retreat there, and by whose advice the new
palace was constructed in place of the old, which
Avas as ancient as the time of Charlemagne.
Nothing of architectural magnificence which EUza
beth had ever beheld in her own country could
compare with that of Heidelberg, which Avas a
perfect toAvn in itself. And grand and imposing
Avas her reception into this mighty fabric : the
Dowager Princess Juliana, the mother of her hus
band, with twelve princesses, and a train of noble
ladies, as her attendants, were ranged in order in a
double row to meet her, as, borne in her husband's
arms to the portal, she was received into those of
his mother with a burst of affection and feelino-
which overcame the restraint of etiquette.
They now entered the palace, whose piUars
were of seeming gold, the fioors of porphyry, and
the cornices inlaid AAith gems; aU briUiant and

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 49
gorgeous as in a fairy tale. The ceUings glowed
with vivid colours, the waUs Avere rich with tapestry,
and a suite of ten rooms, each more sumptuous
than the last, completed the enchanting vista.
At the dinner of state, Elizabeth was seized by
twelve princes in the SUver chamber, where the
trumpet and the drum spoke to Heaven, whUe the
Queen drank, amidst five thousand guests, for
whose use the great tun was repeatedly drained
and replenished.* A tournament followed, and
running at the ring, with dramatic pageants, in
which the Elector himself bore a distinguished part.
It would seem as if the scenes in the " Midsum
mer Night's Dream" had been Avritten as a type of
the rejoicings on this occasion; for Bottom, Starve
ling, and the rest, could hardly have imagined any
absurdity to outdo the vagaries of the heathen
deities, and Mount Parnassus, who figured in the
pageants, together Avith the Danube, the Rhine,
the Neckar, and other celebrated rivers ; all of
whom in person spoke and sung and harangued
untu even the youthful patience of the gratified
Queen must, one would think, have been exhausted.
Stowe gives the following account of the expenses
incurred, which are the more lamentable when the
sad reverses of most of those concerned Avhich
ensued are remembered : —
" Besides the six thousand trained footmen who
* Miss Benger. Stowe.
VOL. II. E

50 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
staid during the solemnity and were fed by the
prince in the camp, there were every meal, whilst
the commissioner staid, furnished above five thou
sand X^kAt^, and above six thousand guests served
and fed at his expense. But, because this is extra
ordinary, know that this Court is ever great, for it
hath one thousand persons in ordinary daily fed
and clothed twice a year at the prince's charge;
and he keepeth three hundred great horse ; besides
his Highness hath many governors, lieutenants,
deputies, receivers, captains, and other officers who
have all large salaries and are served in such state.
" At every meal a marveUous great kettle drum
striketh, and twenty-four trumpets sound the ser
vice. Wherefore let envy, malice, and ignorance
cease to carp at that they cannot paraUel now
they may know it, and aU honest men rest satisfied
therewith." After this admonition, of course, no further com
ment can be made, although, but for the severity of
the chronicler, it might have been allowable to ex
press amaze and regret that these gorgeous doings
cost nearly three hundred thousand pounds !
Trae it is, that Frederic was at this time head
of the most flourishing district in Germany ; his
affairs, during his minority, had been conducted
with the greatest care by the Duke de Deuxponts,
and all smUed prosperously upon him when he
brought home his beautiful bride. He Avas proud

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 51
to hear himself hailed, also, as the chief of the
Evangelic Union, although as much danger as
honour was now attached to the distinction, and it
was not long before dissension crept in amongst
the other heads of the Protestant states, Avhich in
volved consequences not apparent at the moment.
There were not, unfortunately, wanting fanatics
in religion, and astrologers who predicted that
the young Palatine Avas destined to perform won
derful actions ; and the flattery was but too
pleasant to the inexperienced mind which received
it. In the midst of good auguries of all descrip
tions, an heir was born to the delighted and
exulting Prince, and aU Germany, England, and
Scotland rang with rejoicings for the desired event.
New revels, new glories, new pageants, and new
presents succeeded each other, impoverishing the
country and preparing its misfortunes.
Already, in spite of the continued scene of feast
ing and rejoicing in which she existed, Elizabeth
looked back with something like regret to the su
perior refinement and amusement of her native Court,
and was obliged to acknowledge, with a pang, that she
was neglected by those at home nearest and dearest
to her. She knew her mother even yet nourished re
sentment against her, for the condescension she had
showed in accepting the hand of a man whose dig
nity was less than a king ; and she saw, also, that,
once away, her place was easily filled in her father's
heart. E .2

52 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
In the unabated fondness of her husband, and
their congenial tastes; in the tenderness of her
mother and sisters-in-law, EUzabeth had, however,
a powerful resom'ce; and she endeavoured to
forget that there was an ungrateful Avorld beyond
the romantic castle she inhabited, and the fany
gardens created for her by the devoted Frederic.
Nothing could be more beautiful than these gar
dens, which, at great expense and with persevering
anxiety, her husband caused to bloom on the steep
side of the rocks of Heidelberg. This Armida-like
spot was laid out by the famous and unfortunate
Solomon de Caus — one of those energetic and en
quiring spirits to whom the secrets of steam were
divulged ; but whose knowledge, added to disap
pointed expectations, made him mad. In a work,
published by him in 1620, De Caus gives a descrip
tion of the gardens of Heidelberg, and records the
inscription which Frederic had placed over an arch
at the entrance. — "Frederic the Fifth to his be
loved Avife, Elizabeth, 1615."
The powers of mechanism were called into play.,
in the retreats of this garden, and from streams of
water were made to issue melodies of the most
bewitching kind,, whenever the royal pair sought
the solitude whicii these beautiful glades offered
them, Avhen wearied with the pomp and luxury
around. The chase was another source of amusement to
EUzabeth, for which she seemed to have a passion

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 53
scarcely inferior to her father ; and it was remarked
of her by Maximilian of Bavaria, that she was as
celebrated for her sylvan prowess as for her charities
and munificence. ^
Her love of letters continued unabated, and she
received with pleasure at her court her learned
and elegant countrymen. Dr. Donne and Sir Henry
Wotton, when the latter was sent ambassador to
Germany : his celebrated and beautiful verses have
tended, as much as anything known of Elizabeth,
to keep her memory alive in all hearts.
" to EUZABETH, QUEEN OF BOHEMtA.
" Ye meaner beauties of the night.
That poorly satisfy our eyes.
More by your number than your light,
Ye common people of the skies,^
What are ye, when the Sun shall rise ?
" Ye violets that first appear.
By your pure purple blossoms known.
Like the proud virgins of the year.
As if the spring were all your own, —
What are ye, when the Rose is blown?
" Ye curious chaunters ofthe wood,
That warble forth dame Nature's lays,
Thinking your voices understood
By your weak numbers, — what's your praise
When Philomel her voice shall raise ?
" So when my mistress shall be seen
In form and beauty of her mind,
By virtue first, then choice a Queen,
Tell me if she were not designed
Th' eclipse and glory of her kind?"

54 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
It would have been weU for EUzabeth and her
dominions, if the simple pleasures and the occa
sional magnificence of Heidelberg had sufficed for
her ambition, and if the sincere piety of her heart
had been contented with the duties she had within
her power : but the taunts of her mother had had
too much weight in her mind, and the enthusiasm
of her brother, Henry, respecting the spread of
Protestantism, had been adopted- by herself with
equal fervom'. The generous desire of rescuing the
sufferers of her own religion from the persecutions
they endured, was fostered by the hope of obtain
ing power which would enable her effectually to
assist them, and secure the sway of true religion.
Abraham Scultetus — the great apostle of the re
formed faith — urged and excited his willing pupil
untU her devotion to the great cause was not less
than his own : his inconsiderate zeal may, in a great
measure, have caused much of the misfortune which
ensued to herself and her husband.
A revolution had burst forth in Hungary and
Bohemia, and the old order of things was over
turned : enterprising men — some, doubtless, insti
gated by patriotism, and many by their OAvn inte
rests — were not wanting to take advantage of cir
cumstances. In the end, the crown of Bohemia
- was offered as the prize of that prince who dared
to brave the power of Austria, Spain, and all the
Catholic potentates.
Frederic had many friends and relatives who

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 55
saw in him the person destined to undertake so
important an adventure : the stars were supposed
to have pointed him out as one foretold to deliver
Europe from religious error, and to found one of
the greatest monarchies in the world. The ener
getic and resolute Count Thurm had an army at
his disposal ; his fortune seemed to beckon him on
to greatness : his uncles, Maurice of Nassau, and
the Duke de BouiUon offered him their counsel and
support, and, above all, his beautiful and enthu
siastic wife, his beloved Elizabeth, bade him stretch
forth his hand to the diadem within his reach, and
accept the high station which would enable him to
become an efficient servant of God.
The arguments that were used to determine the
young Palatine to take the decisive step were these,
faUing from the lips of experienced men on whose
judgments he relied : —
" Fortune," said the chanceUor, Louis Came-
rarius, " commonly declares for the brave ; and it
would be unworthy of your rank to reject that
which every other sovereign would be disposed to
seek. Neither would such self-denial gain credit
vsith mankind for moderation, but rather you would
incur the odium of meanness and pusiUanimity.
Yet, in reality, what evils have you to anticipate ?
Who is the Emperor you have to oppose ? Is he
Uke Charles V., at the head of a victorious army ?
No ; but shut up in Gratz ; and conscious that he

56 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
would be unsafe in Vienna. Hungary is his no longer
— Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, Lusatia are ready to em
brace your interests. Almost the whole of Austria
is ready to shake off the yoke of Ferdinand. Where
shall he find forces to attack you ? The succours
which he expects from Italy and the Low Countries
cannot easily pass into Germany. The States-
General of the United Provinces will presently
fm-nish occupation for the Spaniards ; and, although
the truce with the Catholic King is about to expu'e,
the Prince of Orange will raise both men and
money to assist you. The King of Great Britain is
yom' father-in-laAv, the King of Denmark, your ally,
the Protestant princes of Germany will readily
concur in an enterprise so glorious, so useful to the
Reformation ; even the Court of France, though at
present hostile to your designs, probably assumes
that repugnance to satisfy the Pope, when, in
reality, it would rejoice to see Austria despoUed of
so fair a possession. Whatever may be the result, it
is impossible that France, England, Denmark, the
United States, and the Protestant Princes of Ger
many shall remain tame spectators of your exertions.
" In fact there is nothing for your Highness to
lose, and much to gain ; but were there even
more difficulty and peril, it would weU become a
courageous prince to run some risk for glory."*
Frederic could not Usten to such congenial advice
* Le Vassor. Spanheim.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 57
without secret exultation ; and Elizabeth gave her
self up, heart and soul, to its fascination. In vain
the Dowager Juliana, the careful and far-seeing
mother of the Elector, represented the faUacy of all
these splendid imaginings. On the other side, she
bade them both refiect that there was little doubt
but that the Pope, roused by the threatening danger
to the empire, would convoke all Catholics to defend
him. France had not power to oppose Austria.
Spain would eagerly sustain it ; and, above all, she
entreated thein to pause before they placed reliance
on King James, who would most assuredly not
break with his great Spanish ally for their sakes.
She acknowledged that from some of the other
powers they might gain support ; but they were too
weak to overcome such mighty opponents. Others
were fickle, or divided amongst themselves ; and as
for the Bohemians themselves, it was trusting a
broken reed to depend on their stabUity. " But
even," she added, " though you could depend on
your kinsmen, your allies, your friends, and your
subjects, you have neither troops nor treasures
adequate to the charges of war, and never can hope
to obtain the general suffrage, untU you shall be
ensured against defeat."
Frederic, accustomed to attend impUcitly to the
superior wisdom of his mother, would probably
have given way to the force of her representations,
but Elizabeth's hold upon him was too strong ; and
he could not resist her entreaties, her tears, her

58 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
eloquence, and, it is even said, her reproaches.
She could not endure to see the vision of a regal
crown fading away; and her vain mother's con
temptuous laugh rung in her ears, as she imagined
her turning from her disappointed daughter, and
the weak prince who had not courage enough to
be a king.
His mind torn with conflicting emotions, Frederic
now inclined one way, and now the other, but at
length the cause of prudence Avas abandoned for
that of ambition, and he consented to become a
candidate for a crown which was to be given away.
The people of Bohemia decided to accept him,
and the die was cast. His tears, on the occasion
of their election being reported to him, were pro
phetic of the futm-e, and he said, sadly, to the Duke
of Wirtemberg : " Alas ! if I accept the crown, I
shall be accused of ambition ; if I reject it, I shall
be branded with cowardice. However I may decide,
there is no peace for me or my country."
He was not, however, permitted further vacUla
tion : all his friends pressed round him, and assured
him, that " Fate would have him king."
The Dowager Juliana heard that all Avas ended
Viith despair ; she took to her bed, and silently
deplored the ruin which, like Cassandra, she fore
saw in vain.
Very differently was the news of her husband's
decision received by the young, ardent, and aspiring

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 59
Elizabeth, in a letter in which the state demanded
her opinion of the step taken. Her answer was
in conformity to the arguments urged by Count
Schomberg to his master, as well as those of Scul
tetus and Camerarius.
" Since you are persuaded that the throne to
which you are invited is a vocation from God,
by whose Providence are all things ordained and
directed, then, assuredly, you ought not to shrink
from the duty imposed ; nor, if such be your per
suasion, shaU I repine, whatever consequences may
ensue ; not even though I should be forced to part
from my last jewel and to suffer actual hardships,
shall I ever repent of the election."
These are Elizabeth's ovra prophetic words.
If it was presumptuous in Elizabeth thus to urge
her husband, she was supported in her ideas of the
propriety of the measure by the judgment of a
great statesman, habituaUy discreet and eminently
fortunate in his various undertakings.* It is told
of Maurice, Prince of Orange, that, in answer to
some objections to Frederic's acceptance of the
crown of Bohemia, he exclaimed, in jest : " Is there
any green cloth sold in Heidelberg ?" When asked
why he made the demand, he replied : " Oh merely
to make a fool's-cap for the man who could propose
such a sUly question."
* Miss Benger's Life of Elizabeth of Bohemia.

60 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Probably, if Frederic's character had been as
bold and prompt as that of Maurice, success would
have croAvned his enterprise ; but he had too much
conscience or caution for a conqueror :
" Letting I dare not wait upon I would."
When he returned to Heidelberg, his reception
by his mother was solemn and sad ; but that which
greeted him from his exulting Queen Avas calcu
lated to repress all his doubts, and inspire him with
new courage to carry through his undertaking.
Juliana consented to resume the sway she had
abdicated for a time, and to quit the retreat and
retirement which she had hoped to enjoy for the
remainder of her life ; and the new King and Queen
of Bohemia prepared to take leave of the home
where they had been happy, and the subjects who
adored them.
" A portentous gloom," says an eye-witness,
" overspread the face of nature ; the people wept ;
the clouds poured down torrents ; nowhere was seen
the smUe of joy. Early in the morning, the Elector,
with his eldest son, Henry Frederic, now in his
sixth year, repaired to the great church of Heidel
berg, to offer oblation and sacrifice to the Most
High. No sooner was this duty performed than
Frederic, not without tears, pronounced a solemn
valediction to the people, who, with an involuntary
movement, clasping their hands in agony, implored
for him and his house the divine benediction.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 61
" When he passed through the church, the sighs
and sobs of grief were audible : every eye followed
his steps ; every heart dwelt on his parting accents ;
and, when they no longer saw his form, they expa
tiated on his virtuous administration. Never had
any sovereign been more truly beloved."
In the Queen's private chapel, where she per
formed her devotions, her chaplain. Dr. Chapman,
chose a text which might be considered prophetic.
" Go to now, ye that say. To-day or to-morrow
we will go to such a city, and continue there a year,
and buy and seU, and get gain : whereas ye know
not what shall be on the morrow. For what is yom'
life ? It is even but as a breath that appeareth for
a time, and then vanisheth away : for that ye ought
to say. If the Lord vdU, we shall live, and do this."
At length the parting moment arrived, and the
sad separation from an affectionate and beloved
famUy, from adoring subjects, and from scenes, en
deared by habit and association, was to take place.
The royal pair entered their traveUing carriage,
eighteen others foUowing them, including aU EUza
beth's EngUsh ladies, and some German of high
rank, amongst whom was Amelia of Solms, after
wards tenderly loved by her mistress.
Tears were shed in abundance, and unconcealed
was the regret and distress of aU : their departure
was looked upon, as it indeed was, as a great

62 * EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
national calamity. The letter- writer, before quoted,
goes on thus to describe the scene : alluding to
young Prince Henry, he says : —
" There were none but discerned something
extraordinary in the aspect of this hopeful young
prince : but, above aU, delightful was the de
meanour of that great lady, who, the tears trickling
dovra her cheeks, was mUd, courteous, and affable,
yet, with a proper degree of state, like another
Queen Elizabeth, the Phoenix of the world. Gone
is that sweet princess, with her now more than
princely consort, towards the place where his army
attendeth, showing herself like, that virago of Til
bury, another Queen Elizabeth, for so she now is,
and what more she may be" (meaning Empress),
" or her royal issue, is in God's hand, for the good
and "^lory of his Church.
" Such a lady going before and marching in the
front, who would not adventure life and covet
death ! It is the manner of the Moors, in their
deadly battles, to choose one of their fairest virgins
to go before them in the field ; for her to be
surprised they would deem an everlasting shame,
and, therefore, rather fight to the last man. And
shaU we suffer our princess, our only royal infanta,
to go to the field and not foUoAv her ? Then aie
we worse than the very infidels, who, at the last
day, shaU rise in judgment against us."
The new sovereigns Avere met on the frontiers of

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 63
Bohemia by the grandees and burghers with every
demonstration of affection and respect. The smiles
and affable manner of EUzabeth delighted all who
approached her ; and the curiosity to see a lady of
such great rank, who was come to be their Queen,
was extreme : the lively and animated appearance
of the Bohemians pleased her in retm-n, and the
deUght they showed on her appearance completed
the favourable impression they had made.
The nobility exerted themselves to do the royal
party honour; and they were astonished at the
enormous size of the castles, and magnificent style
of entertainment offered them : everywhere the
people's enthusiasm foUowed them ; but the old
Bohemian dialect in which they spoke was un
known to the new sovereigns, who had no words
in which to reply to their greetings. At length,
after a series of triumphs, they reached the fine old
city of Prague, and set foot on the ground of their
new kingdom, at the beautiful walk at the foot of
Weissenburg, called "The Star," where a deputa
tion waited to escort them into the toAvn.
A grand and curious procession of four hundred
burghers, in their antique dresses, and with primi
tive manners and customs — against which the
risibility of the somewhat injudicious Frederic was
not proof — conducted them to the palace.
Their coronation soon followed,* and Elizabeth's
» 4th Nov. 1619.

64 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
triumph was now complete — " Goody Palsgrave"
was a queen : but she who had excited her daughter
to desire this distinction, could not now witness
her exaltation. Queen Anne was dead, and her
vanity and weakness bmied in the tomb. And,
alas ! although almost all the nations of Europe
presented their congratulations to King Frederic,
there was one potentate who sent censure instead ;
and, like the bad fairy at the royal christening, cast
an evil infiuence on aU around.
King James refused his .son-in-law the title of
king, protesting that he would never aid and abet
rebellion. However mortifying this harsh conduct
might be, the Duke de BouUlon, elate with pride
and hope, endeavoured to reassure his nephew, by
exclaiming in triumph — " I care not who makes
knights since I create kings."
But this exultation was short-lived, for the unna
tural father of the young Queen, from whom they
naturally expected support, or at least could not
imagine that he would prove their enemy, declared
himself openly as opposed to them in every way, as
totaUy disapproving of their conduct, and ended by
encouraging the other powers to discountenancs
what he called rebellion and usurpation.
This blow feU heavily on EUzabeth, who had not
seen her father's character so clearly as JuUana had
done, and who could not fathom his motives for
thus treating a Protestant prince and his near
connexion. She Avas not aware of his cowardly

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 65
submission to Spain, of his idle and mean desire to
ally himself to the monarch of that country, and
the tangled mazes of his crooked policy were in
scrutable to her open, noble, and candid mind.
She saw, too late, that she had vainly relied on
his paternal tenderness. Alas ! he felt as little
towards her as his vain queen had done, who in
her wiU had not even named her daughter : they
treated her as one who, once married and sent from
them, was to trouble them no more.
Six months after she was queen, she learnt the
mischief that the selfish and unmeaning policy of
James had created. His declaration had given the
tone to the other Protestant princes, who ventured
to remonstrate with Frederic on his conduct in
accepting a crown which they had promised to
assist him in defending.
All parties now, from different motives of seU-
interest, thought it prudent to withdraw, as much
as possible, from supporting a cause which the
nearest and most powerful aUy of the King of
Bohemia reprobated. One by one the Protestant
chiefs showed that they could abandon the great
work they had pretended to forward, as soon as
danger came in the way ; and, ^hUe brotherly love
and peace was preached amongst them, aU Christian
duties were neglected. One of those who did most
harm to his master, was the too zealous and fana
tical Scultetus, whose Calvinistic violence disgusted
and enraged the Lutherans and CathoUcs, who
VOL. II. F

66 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
had hoped to be unmolested, if not favoured, by
the sovereign they had chosen. Not only did this
injudicious minister loudly and fiercely inveigh
against aU those points of reUgion which differed
from his OAvn, but he excited his people to destroy
in the night certain revered relics and images which
were the pride and boast of Prague, and were the
objects of fondness — an innocent, and even praise
worthy, one — ^to the people. EUzabeth was unjustly
blamed for this destruction, for,' it was recoUected,
that she used to avoid passing a bridge where stood
a celebrated cross— her real motive being delicacy
 as at that spot it was the custom for both sexes
to bathe ; and, from that moment, aU the enthu
siasm for the Queen was changed to suspicion and
iU-wUl. Superstition, that bane of aU good, had, at this
period, a sway little inferior to that which it had
exerted in the darkest ages; the people of aU
nations " Hearkened after prophecies and dreams,"
and every appearance in the sky was looked upon
as the harbinger of some great event. Each sect
and party saAV, in the phenomena of the heavens, a
visible sign which spoke to themselves, and by none
were they alloAved to be a portion of the natural
order of things which the learned might explain. It
is not sm-prising that the half-savage nations of the
North should be impressed with such notions, when

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 67
France and England encouraged such benighted
ignorance ; and, hoAvever absurd it may now seem,
when an aurora boreaUs, or some simUar beautiful
appearance in the skies, suddenly Uluminated the
nights of Northern Europe, aU the wondering
gazers read a fate in its luminous lines.
The Catholics insisted that it was a vision of
angels gUding along to heavenly music, and pro
mising a holy triumph for them. Some, who
desired the event, thought it portentous of the
Emperor Ferdinand's death. Scultetus declared
that it was a procession of souls, rejoicing that the
Church had been purified from idolatry ; and Fre
deric and EUzabeth believed it to be d. fairy vision,
" Of some gay creatures of the element.
That in the colours of the rainbow live
And dwell in the pighted clouds."
Meantime, in spite of the gathering storm, Eli
zabeth and her husband endeavoured to hope the
best : their eldest son was solemnly acknowledged
his father's successor to the throne of Bohemia,
and the fickle people seemed to be returning to
their original allegiance.
The Emperor Ferdinand, however, was daUy
gaining ground ; treachery was at work, constantly
undermining the tottering fabric of Frederic's popu
larity. An army was on foot, composed of leaders
of fearful strength and overpowering numbers, and
the King of Bohemia must meet them in the field ;
F 2

68 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
day by day his pretended friends drew off; and,
if they did not join his enemies, they remained
neuter, and he was left without help. King James,
all the time, turned away his face, and would not
see his daughter's perU.
MeanwhUe, the Emperor's ban was issued against
Frederic, accusing him of high treason, for having
made himself " head of that perfidious and rebel
lious crew " of his kingdom of Bohemia, banishing
and proscribing him, and warning aU persons to
avoid affording him or his assistance or relief.
The Duke of Saxony took the field, with an army
of twenty thousand men, to exfecute this imperial
ban. To them were opposed Counts Thurm and
Mansfeld, who, for a time, kept the great power in
check ; but jealousies sprang up between them
and the Prince of Anhalt, and others of higher rank
in the King of Bohemia's service, who would not
consent to be second in command, thus introducing
dissensions of a fatal tendency.
The Marquis Spin ola was forming an army in
Flanders; and aU threatened destruction to the
new King. James contented himself, in spite of
the representations of his son and daughter, with
sending to his ambassador at Brussels, to demand
the meaning of this gathering, the truce being stiU
in force between the Low Countries and Spain;
but no satisfactory answer was returned; and he
must have been blind, indeed, ff he saw not the

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 69
meaning of six-and-twenty thousand foot, and four
thousand horse, being ready for action.
The enthusiasm in England in favour of the
King and Queen of Bohemia and their Protestant
cause, obUged King James, at last, though sorely
against his wUl, — " so odious was the name of war
to him," says WUson, — to permit one regiment of
foot " to join with the princes of the Union, and
make a little noise and bustle!'
This gaUant troop, composed of the most high-
spirited and noble young men in England, com
manded by Sir Horace Vere, and sweUed by numbers
of other daring and enterprising persons, 'amongst
whom were the Earls of Oxford and Essex — for two
more regiments were aUowed to follow — gladly set
forth in defence of their beloved princess ; but they
were but a handful ; and to send so few was as bar
barous and unfeeling as the rest of James's conduct.
Agitating uncertainty and incessant anxiety
had now usurped the place of the domestic peace
which had been the portion of EUzabeth and Fre
deric in the beautiful retreats of Heidelberg, and
of the high aspirations Avhich dwelt with them in
the palace of Prague. Frederic was with the army ;
their children were sent away to places of security ;
and the Queen, now near her confinement, remained
in the capital, a prey to sorrow and regret, obliged
to assume a confidence she no longer felt, and to
encourage those still true to her cause by her smiles
and apparent cheerfulness.

70 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The letters written to her by Frederic from his
camp, in which he teUs her he is surrounded by spies
and traitors, were far from re-assuring, but breathe
the spirit of the fondest affection and devotion.
How melancholy must have been the forebodings
which dictated tlie following reflections ! —
" What madness is it to lavish embeUishments
on a poor inanimate corpse ! for myself, I should
desire nothing more than a plain linen shroud. I
trust Providence will long preserve us both to live
together ; but, in the name of God, I conjure you
to be careful of your own health, if not for your
ovra sake, for mine, for our beloved chUdren, and
for that dear being yet unborn, whose existence
is bound up in yours ! Yield not to despondence !
I would fain be with you ; but this being my voca
tion, I trust you do not the less beUeve me your
devoted friend in life and death."
On the eve of the battle of Rakonetz he wrote
to her thus : —
" God grant that it may not be necessary you
should depart from Prague; but it is better to
prepare for the worst, otherwise, in case of an
emergency, we should be thrown into extreme con
fusion. Could I but once receive the assurance
that you were perfectly resigned to the wUl of God,
I should experience unspeakable comfort. Without
this resignation on my part, I had long since sunk

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 71
under the heavy burthen of afflictions which it has
pleased Divine Providence to impose. TeU me,
then, freely, your sentiments on this subject, and
whether you do not acquiesce in the propriety
of retu-ing from Prague in good order, whUst order
may be preserved, rather than wait untU you shall
be compelled by the enemy to a precipitate fiight.
We are now near the Bavarian camp. Yesterday
he saluted us with his cannon : to-daywe have had
another feu-de-joie. Once more I entreat you to
believe that I would not urge you to depart con
trary to your ovra choice. I merely transmit my
opinion ; above aU, be assured I am, for my whole
life, your faithful and devoted " Frederic."

But EUzabeth resisted aU his anxious advice that
she should remove from Prague for greater safety ;
she justly considered this would be an impolitic step,
and have the air of desertion : where, indeed, could
she find safety ? for she was hemmed in on all sides
by foes; and far was it from her design, even were it
otherwise, to separate herseff from the fortunes of her
husband, although she had been careful to place
her chUdren as far as she could out of the reach of
danger. She continued, therefore, her former con
duct, endeavouring to inspire others with hope;
but her mind was torn with remorse for the part she
had taken, and she reproached herself, in her letters

72 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
to Frederic, as the author of his troubles, for which
he affectionately reproves her.
But the tide had set against them, and there was
no retreat : the contending parties advanced even
to the gates of Prague; and that fatal battle
ensued which sealed the fate of the unfortunate
Frederic. On the same spot, the beautiful park
where he and his royal bride had received the con
gratulations t)f the Bohemians, a dreadful carnage
took place, and all was lost.
Nothing remained for the distracted husband but
to rescue his wife from the pressing dangers that
surrounded her ; and, hurrying her into a carriage,
he carried her off to the old town of Prague in an
almost unconscious state.* When Frederic Iffted
her from the carriage at the old palace gate, he
exclaimed, with a deep sigh, " I now know where I
am. We princes seldom learn the truth till we
are taught it by adversity."
No grace was accorded to the unfortunate pair,
but a truce of eight hours. Count Thurm, who
had been the last to quit the field, seeing that
resistance would be vain, conjured the king to
hasten his departure from Prague, where the
* She had to pass the bridge where the famous cross had been
destroyed, and in a contemporary pamphlet she is thus re
proached : —
" Whither goest thou, Elizabeth ? Whither, but over the bridge
which thou didst refuse to pass on the specious pretext of modesty.
Mockery and falsehood ! it was because thou couldst not endure
to look upon that holy object. Unsanctified unbeliever ! thou art
now carried whither thou wouldst not follow,'' &c.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 73
emperor's ban was impending over his head:
and he knew that the Dukes of Saxony and
Bavaria were eager to execute its mandates.
After a brief consultation, Frederic decided to
leave his claims on Bohemia in the hands of his
friends, and to retire himself to Silesia.
On the 9th Nov. 1620, they began their melan
choly retreat from a city which had been the scene
of their triumph for a short year.
" At the moment of departure, all was panic and
dismay; and the historians of the day have not
disdained to notice, amongst the most important
details, that the Queen's night-clothes, and the
King's insignia of the order of the garter, Avere
left behind. Of the ladies, Elizabeth alone
retained self-possession. Her bosom friend, Anne
Dudley, was overwhelmed with the fate of her
husband, who had fallen in the fatal confiict ;
the others were appaUed with apprehensions for
the Queen's future destiny : nor could Elizabeth
herself be insensible to the danger : but, when
Bernard, Count Thurm, from whom she received
an homage bordering on idolatry, eagerly proposed
to defend the citadel a few days, in order to allow
her more time to withdraw from pursuit, Eliza
beth exclaimed, with true womanly heroism :
' I forbid the sacrifice. Never shaU the son of
our best friend hazard his life to spare my fears :
never shall this devoted city be exposed to more

74 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
outrageous treatment for my sake : rather let me
perish on the spot, than be remembered as a
curse !
Frederic has been blamed for thus at once
abandoning his capital ; but he kncAV that traitors,
who had betrayed him, were concealed about his
Com't, and he acted under the advice of his most
gaUant officers and best friends : the unfortunate
! are always blamed, while all the imprudences of
j the lucky are cited as their merits.
The travellers pursued their flight by unfre
quented roads, at times impracticable for carriages ;
the Queen was forced to alight frequently, and be
placed on horseback behind a young British volun
teer, named Hopton — a man of good family, and
Avhose proud boast it afterwards became, that he
had once served and protected the Queen of
Bohemia. She arrived, at length, at Breslau, after great
fatigue and hardship, the snow having faUen and
barred their passage ; which, if it had come three
days sooner, might have saved their kingdom, by
impeding the march of the hostUe army. Eliza
beth lost no time in appealing to her father, and
imploring his prompt assistance and interposition
in behalf of her husband: her letter runs as
foUows : * Miss Benger.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 75
" The Baron d'Hona will not fail to inform your
Majesty of the misfortune that has befaUen us, and
by which we have been compelled to leave Prague,
and come to this place, where God only knows
how long Ave may be permitted to remain. I
therefore most humbly beseech your Majesty to
protect the King and myself, by sending us
succour : otherwise we must be brought to utter
ruin. It is from your Majesty alone, next to
Almighty God, that we expect assistance.
" I most humbly thank your Majesty for the
favourable declaration, you have been pleased to
make respecting the preservation of the Palatinate.
I earnestly entreat you to do as much for us here,
and to send us good aid to resist our foes ; other
wise I know not what will become of us.
" Let me, then, once more implore your Majesty
to have compassion on us, and not to abandon the
King at the moment when he most needs assistance.
As to myself, I am resolved not to leave him ; and,
if he must perish, why I will perish also. But,
whatsoever may become of me, never, never shall
I be other than your Majesty's
Most humble, most obedient
Daughter and servant
" Elizabeth."

Prague submitted to the conquerors, the day
after Frederic quitted it, under promises of amnesty

76 eminent englishwomen.
and protection ; which were so far from being kept,
that their breach afterwards fiUed the country with
bloodshed and horror.
The Silesians, intimidated at the vicinity of the
Saxon troops, received the royal fugitives in the
coldest manner : without money or resources^
abandoned by aU whom he hoped to find his
friends, his beloved wffe on the eve of her confine
ment, and aU his prospects of the most gloomy
kind, the unhappy Frederic quitted Breslau with
Elizabeth, prevailing on her to remain for a few
days at Frankfort on the Oder, whilst he de
spatched a courier to Berlin, to his kinsman and
brother-in-law, George WiUiam of Brandenburg,
simply to beg that he would allow his wife shelter
in his castle of CustriUj during the period of her
accouchement. The mean and brutal prince whom he addressed
returned a churlish answer; and represented that
neither Custrin nor Spandau were in a fit state to
receive her, both being dismantled and without
furnitm'e, fuel, or servants ; in fact, he added,
there Avas nothing to be expected there " but
misery and starvation."
But for the intervention of Sir Henry Wotton,
the British envoy, his peerless queen and sun of
beauty would have been denied a lodging by this
cowardly relative, who feared to bring danger on
himself by countenancing the defeated party.
When forced to agree to their going to his castle

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 77
of Custrin, he took care to stipulate that they
should pay their own expenses, to the last farthing ;
and he was cautious that the picture he had drawn
of the desolation to be expected there, was not too
highly coloured.
It was on the 25th of December — ^just a year
from the time when her son, Rupert, was born
in the stately palace of Prague — that, in a desolate
and inhospitable abode, where discomfort, want,
and wretchedness were too evident, EUzabeth
Stuart, the daughter of the King of England,
gave birth to her son, Maurice : both these princes
were afterwards remarkable for their attachment
to their mother — perhaps the greatest reward
for all her sufferings, which could be reserved
for her : ¦' An over-payment of delight.''
In three weeks she was forced, by her savage
host, to quit his castle and journey on to Berlin ;
from whence she hastened to Wolfenbuttle, in
Brunswick, where kindness and attention were
offered her by the relatives of Anne of Denmark.
The Dowager JiUiana had removed to Polish
Prussia : to her was sent the infant, Mamice^
whUe Rupert accompanied Elizabeth in her wan
derings. No reproach ever passed the lips of the
patient and affectionate mother of Frederic, who
wept with her daughter-in-law, and offered her
every consolation in her troubles, without once

78 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
alluding to the errors her ambition had led her
into. She did not, however, approve of the
King of Bohemia's submission and temporizing,
and foresaw, as the event proved, that such a
line of conduct would be of no avaU, and could
only excite contempt.
King James, now that his assistance came too
late, was ready to join in mean solicitations, aU
of which were without effect ; for the enemies
of his son-in-law were on the strongest side.
His speeches to his parliament, however, show
with what iU wUl he came forward to their
assistance, as well as what merit he claimed for
himself in what he did :
" Touching the miserable dissensions in' Christen
dom, I was not the cause thereof ; for the appeasing
whereof I sent my Lord of Doncaster, whose
journey cost me three thousand five hundred
pounds. My son-in-law sent to me for advice,
but within three days after accepted the crown,
which I did never approve of for three reasons :
First, for Religion's sake, as not holding with
the Jesuits' disposing of kingdoms ; rather learn
ing of our Saviour to uphold, not to overthrow
them. Secondly, I was no judge between them,
neither acquainted with the laws of Bohemia.
Thirdly, I have treated a peace, and, therefore,
will not be a party. Yet I left not to preserve
my chUdi-en's patrimony ; for I had a contribution

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 79
of my lords and subjects, which amounted to a
great sum. I borrowed of my brother of Den
mark seven thousand five hundred pounds to
help him, and sent as much to him as to make
it up ten thousand. And thirty thousand I sent
to the princes of the Union, to hearten them.
I have lost no time : had the princes of the Union
done their part, that handful of men I sent had
done theirs. I purpose to provide an army the
next summer, and desire you to consider of my
necessities," &c.
Another time he thus expresses himself :
" It is true that we have ever professed, (and
in that mind with God's grace we will live and
die,) that we wiU labom' by all means possible,
either by treaty or by force, to restore our children
to their ancient dignity and inheritance. * *
" But, because we conceive that ye couple this
war of the Palatinate with the cause of Religion,
we must a little unfold your eyes herein. The
beginning of this miserable war, which has set
all Christendom on fire, was not for Religion ; but
only caused by our son-in-law, his hasty and rash
resolution, following evil counsel, to take to himself
the crown of Bohemia : and that this is true,
himseff "wrote letters unto us at that time, desiring
us to give assurance both to the French King and
State of Venice, that his accepting of the croAvn of
Bohemia had no reference to the cause of Religion,

80 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
but only by reason of his right of Election (as he
caUed it.) * * This unjust usurpation of the
crowns of Bohemia and Hungaria from the
Emperor, hath given the Pope and all that party
too fair a ground, and opened them too wide
a gate for curbing and oppressing of many'
thousands of our religion in divers parts of
Christendom." Whilst her father was thus cold in her cause,
" The Queen of Hearts," as Elizabeth was com
monly called, had many enthusiastic admirers in
England, who Avere ready to afford her support.
It is related that this warmth greatly annoyed King
James, who felt the affection of his subjects towards
his children as a reproach. One instance particu.
larly offended him ; it is thus recorded by a writer
of the time :
" The lieutenant of the Middle Temple played
a game this Christmas time, whereat his Majesty
was highly displeased. He made choice of the
civilest and best-fashioned gentlemen of the house
to sup with him; and, being at supper, took a
cup of wine in one hand, and held his sword
drawn in the other, and so began a health to the
distressed Lady Elizabeth : and, having drunk,
kissed the sword : and, laying his hand upon
it, took an oath to live and die in her service :
then delivered the cup and sword to the next,
and so the health and ceremony went round."

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 81
If sympathy and earnest affection could have
helped her cause, the fair Queen of Bohemia would
not have been lingering sadly at Wolfenbuttle,
lamenting the sudden fall of all her highly-raised
hopes; but her father was, perhaps, the only man in
his dominions who was lukewarm in her favour, and
Avho possessed the means of helping her effectuaUy.
Her husband, meantime, is said, during her stay
in that part of the country, to have visited Heidel
berg, the scene of his early happiness, in disguise,
in order to seek there for gold for his expenses.
Melancholy must have been his refiections as he
furtively trod the mazes of those beautiful gardens
which he had arranged with so much taste and
care for his royal bride, and where they had so
often strayed together, forgetting the world beyond
and all its vexations ; of AA-hich, alas ! they then
knew so Uttle in comparison.
Singular and original must those gardens have
been. An ancient German work,* published not
many years after they were completed, affords us
a glimpse, in its minute detaUs of drawing and
architecture, of that spot where art and nature
joined to create beauty and deUght. The broad
Neckar flowing at the foot of the toAvn, whose
numerous spires and turrets, and elevated buUd
ings, are reflected in its waters; the covered bridge,
with its triumphal arches and high-pointed tower
at the entrance ; the Geisberg rising at the back
* .Topographia Bavaria. Lust gartens zu Heidelberg. 1644.
VOL. II. G

82 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
of the scene ; the palace and aU its terraces in the
centre, approached by wide and handsome streets,
and towering far above all the rest of the city;
the river studded with boats; and the animated
country around — aU convey an idea of content and
pleasm*e : but, chiefly, the far-famed gardens attract
the eye, shown as they are by the artist in so many
aspects. Here Ave are led to a retired gTot, at the extre
mity of which a scene, as at a theatre, opens,
displaying a stage of sparkling water, from whence
rise rugged rocks ornamented with branches of
coral and other marine plants : whUe from their
centre spring transparent jets, which leap into
a basin beneath, and mingle viith the foam caused
by the fall of a large body of water, which is
whMed to the utmost height of the sparry cavern
that encloses it, and returns, in fantastic and
feathery shapes, to its original bed. Besides this,
in niches round this aquatic palace, stand nymphs
and water-spirits, pouring fresh offerings from their
flower-crowned urns into crystal cups, which over
flow, and dash into a silver stream beneath, whose
onward course is interrupted by cataracts rushing
down on every side over shelves of rock, above
whose murmm-s recline sculptured forms, supported
by dolphins and other watery creatures, aU appa
rently reveUing in their " parent wave," and
inviting the unwary stranger to partake their
"cool delight."

QUEEN OF B0HEM.IA. 83
From thence we wander in idea through separate
compartments of verdure and flowers, enclosed by
arcades of rich and fantastic patterns, one parterre
leading from another through little door-ways cut
in a leafy waU; and at length we descend to a
terrace below, where gardens, in rich carved frames,
lie in symmetrical order, divided only by central
fountains and miniature lakes full of glittering fish ;
then, through long, shady groves of perfumed lin
dens, we are led, by fiights of marble steps, to a
series of arched walks, protected at all seasons from
the rough winds, where temples and sheltered seats
offer fine views over the rich country round ; here
rows of orange-trees delight the senses, and all the
tender plants which shun the chilling air of the
north are placed in retreat ; walk after walk, aU
roofed with climbing flowers, intersect each other,
tUl, by descending other steps to other platforms,
mazes, involved in flowery confusion, in the midst
of which a murmuring fountain tells the secret of
its hiding-place, lie tempting the wanderer to
explore their concealed recesse^.
Many tears must Frederic have shed as he
hurried through this Al Aden of his own creation,
whose charms, — like those of the Eastern monarch,
who thought in such a retreat misfortune could not
reach him — a breath had swept away ! How often
had he said to his beloved, as they walked together
through the wUderness of bloom,

84 EMIlliENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" Here are cool shades, Lycoris, meads, and flowers,
Here could I melt all life away with thee."
He wrote to the constant object of his thoughts
at this time, during his brief absence — " It already
seems many years since we parted."
At length, the Queen, with her ladies and eighty
cavaUers, began a long and fatiguing march through
WestphaUa ; but the gaiety and vivacity, the kind
ness and resolute cheerfulness of Elizabeth, who,
with recovered health, was restored to all her original
spirits, made the way light to aU, and gained her
the hearts of every one on her passage. Her
maternal solicitude was reUeved too, at this period,
by again embracing her son, Henry, who was under
the care of the Countess Ernest of Nassau, at
Munster. Their way was to the Hague, and, to
judge by the rapturous manner in which their
friends everjrwhere received them, their journey
might have seemed rather one of pleasure than a
forced visit to sue for protection.
That protection they sought was offered them
by the States of HoUand, and a liberal aUowance
was made to Frederic for the maintenance of
his family. EUzabeth, in effect, found the society
here much more congenial in manners than that of
the semi-barbarous Bohemians, who regarded her
as a divinity, and looked upon her with savage
reverence, whUe in favour, deserting her for new
objects of wonder when others were presented to

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 85
them ; whilst in HoUand she was surrounded vdth
persons of rational and polished habits, and she had
also an opportunity of renewing her correspondence
Avith her friends in England.
But it was otherwise with Frederic ; he missed the
respect and the state to which he had been accus
tomed, and he exclaimed, gloomily, " Heaven pre
serve me from the population of a great city, and,
above aU, from the canaille of the Hague !"
Bohemia, meantime, was a prey to the vengeance
of the conqueror Ferdinand, and the most cruel exe
cutions of the friends of the late King were daily
occurring ; heart-breaking accounts reached the
ears of the expelled monarch of those dearest and
most faithful to him dying on the scaffold, insulted
and reviled, and his heart bled for injuries which
he could not redress.
It were vain to follow the ill-fated Elector
through aU the attempts he made to recover posses
sion of his kingdoms ; sometimes a brief triumph
dazzled his eyes for awhile — the contending
princes, whose interests clashed, now joined and
now deserted him. At one time he was on the verge
of victory, if he had been supported by his flinty-
hearted father-in-law, but anon his fortunes fell once
more, and he saw himself reduced to hopelessness.
"Would to Heaven," he writes to his wife,
"there were but one little corner of the earth,
where we might dwell together in peace and con
tent ! I should desire no better lot."

86 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Not only was the whole of his new kingdonl
viTCsted from him, but his Palatinate, at length,
became the prize of the emperor, untU Frankenthal,
the dower of EUzabeth, was almost his only remain
ing possession. It now appeared certain to the
partisans of Frederic, that King James connived
at his son's ruin ; and the fatal truth would seem
to be impressed on the mind of the Queen, for she
thus writes to her friend and advocate. Sir Thomas
Roe : —
" It is not good in these days to be my friend,
for they have ever the worst luck ; but I know that
it wiU not alter you. The prosperity the King had
in the Palatinate lasted not long, for he was con
strained to leave the army, (being ready to mutiny
for lack of payment,) and to retire to Sedan, having
no help from any body. He went thither not
without danger of his life, by the King my father's
command ; and when he was ¦ there he did not so
much as maintain his army with any help, but
chides him that he was himself in person with his
army, which hath forced him to leave it having no
other means. There is a speech here that the
Count Mansfelt wiU serve the French King against
those of the religion ; if he do so, I would he may
be hanged for his pains. But I must confess I am
in a Uttle trouble what Avill become of a worthy
cousin-german of mine, Duke Christian, of Brans -
wick, who, I am sure, you have heard of ; he hath

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 87
engaged himself only /or my sake in our quarrel, and
if Mansfelt go to the French King I know he wiU
not foUow him, which makes me fear he wiU be in
danger of retiring himself hither. I look every
hour for news of him and the King, who cannot
stay long at Sedan for fear of a siege. I pray thee
be assured that nothing good or evU that can come
to me shaU ever alter my good opinion of you, to
AA'hom I am ever your most assured friend, Elizabeth.
" P.S. I pray you commend me to your wife, and
continue writing to me of such news as you hear,
and of the idiot deeds of your Emperor.*
* Sir Thomas Roe was ambassador at the Mogul's Court,
from 1614 to 1618. This potentate, happy in his pride and
ignorance, iraagined his dominions to be the greatest and most
extensive in the world. Sir Thomas, in an evil hour, showed him
Mercator's maps, and, to his horror, astonishment, and mortifi^
cation, he discovered that he was emperor of a little nook only in
the vast universe. He turned away his eyes in disgust, and
angrily desired that the maps should be given back again to the.
English ambassador. — See Grainger.
Sir Thomas Roe was ambassador not only to the Great Mogul,
but to the Kings of Poland, Sweden, Denmark, and the Emperor
and Princes of Germany, at Ratisbon.
In him the accomplishments ofthe scholar, the gentleman, and
the statesman, were eminently united. During his residence in
the Mogul's Court, he zealously promoted the trading interest of
England, for which the India Company is indebted to him to this
day. " Public-hearted Roe,
Faithful, sagacious, active, patient, brave.
Led to their distant climes adventurous trade." Dyer's Fleece.
He collected raany valuable Greek and Oriental MSS., which
he presented to the Bodleian Library, to which he. left his valuable

88 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" Your old servant. Jack,* is'now sitting-by me, as
knavish as ever hcAvas. We have many volunteers
here that may serve, for their wit, your Emperor,
especiaUy English and French ; so I am never desti
tute of a fool to laugh at ; when one goes another
comes."

This lively postscript to a letter announcing
untoward events shows the natural lightness of heart
of the charming princess, who, in a happier posi
tion, would have been the life and soul of all
society, for, even in her continued adversity, she
never lost her agreeable spirits and humour. She
had need of them aU, for the letters of her husband
were calculated to depress her beyond all hope ; he
had little to announce to her but defeat and mis
fortune, and every word he said proved her father's
unkindness. She was staying near the Hague Avith her new
born son, Louis, when Frederic wrote her the
following melancholy and affectionate letter; in
which it is clear that she was the sole object of his
regard, and, if she had been wUling to share his
beloved quiet, he would never have sought to
aggrandise himself, and even then would willingly
collection of coins. The fine Alexandrian MS. of the Greek
Bible which Cyril, the patriarch of Constantinople, presented to
Charles I , was procured by his means. He died in 1644.
* Her monkey.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 89
abandon all for her society alone. How often his
words express —
" Oh ! that the desert were my dwelling-place,
With one fair spirit for my minister.
That I might all forget the human race,
And, hating no one, love but only her!" — —
With what agonized feelings must he have told
her of the destruction of his beloved Heidelberg !
" I received yesterday, by the way of Brussels,
three of those dearly-cherished letters, which assure
me of the continuance of yovu' affection — the ines
timable and only blessing that remains to me ! To
this alone can I look for consolation under afflic
tions too overwhelming to be described. Behold,
the final catastrophe of the treaty of Brussels is the
capture of Heidelberg ; yet, so completely has the
King been amused, that he has not even made the
smallest preparation to lend us aid, even if such
were his choice. These ambassadors have even the
effrontery to talk of demolishing Manheim, aUotting
to us merely the baUiwicks of Heidelberg, Gemer-
sum, and Newstadt. God knows what the King
may say to it ! In Germany they continue to make
distinctions between the Emperor and the King of
Spain, and, at the same time, either of these, or
both, conspire to bereave me of every thing ; and,
with comfortable sang froid, divide the Palatinate
between them."
He now comes to the saddest part of his

90 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
announcement : he had received a blow which seems
to have wrung his heart more than all the rest.
Heidelberg —
" There, where he had garnered up his heart" —
where his happiest, his most exulting moments,
had been passed — where he had been far more
blest than when he led his Elizabeth, a queen,
through the state chambers of the palace of Prague
— Heidelberg was fallen !
" Here is my poor Heidelberg taken, subjected
to every species of cruelty ; sacked, plundered ;
and the superb church, which formed its principal
beauty, devoted to the flames. Poor old Herbert
is kUled !— would to Heaven all had been as faith
ful as he, and this calamity might have been
averted. God visits us with rigom\ The miseries
of these devoted people have overwhelmed my soul.
According to report, Manheim also is besieged ;
and I have reason to fear that, whUst England
treats, it wiU be lost for ever. Should this take
place, I shall put it to the account of Mansfelt, with
whom I am little satisfied at present ; but minute
detaUs must be reserved for our meeting, for which
I long with unutterable impatience. To judge by
my own feelings, I have now been banished many
years* from that being who is dearer to me than aU
the world : from which I should otherwise be ready
* " For in love's hours there are many days ;
Oh, by this count, I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold thee !" — Shakespeare.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 91
to withdravv for ever ; for, without thee, I could
better devote myself to God ; and should have more
real peace and content in some little obscure nook
than with the greatest monarch in the most splen
did palace : nor will I deny, that, if I thought only
of myself, I should cease to struggle with fortune,
and leave the king of England to do whatsoever he
listed for the good of his grandchUdren.
"It is only by the charm of your affection that
I am won to renounce this opinion, and yield to
the strongest impulse of my soul, the desire to see
you again. To this there now remains no other
obstacle than the king's express command for my
detention, which, I trust; a few days will now
remove. You have again assured me that I shall
receive a cordial welcome. It is wretched to live
amongst such a population ; but patience is the
only remedy.
" I am thankful that you can ensure me immu
nity from debts ; for I should not much relish taking
up my quarters in the bridewell of the Hague.
" I hope you have received that letter in which
I announced the fate of Heidelberg : it is in vain I
struggle to divert my thoughts from the subject —
the wound is stUl too fresh."
He then names the sad event of Duke Christian
of Brunswick having lost his arm in the severe
battle of Fleura ; and expresses his sincere gratitude
and strong affection to that faithful friend.

92 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
His letter is a mixture of pubUc "and private
detaUs : he alludes to the Queen's domestic affairs
with even an approach to gaiety, whUe he congra
tulates her on the little prodigy she possesses in
Rupert, who can already speak so many languages ;
and concludes, in the language popular at the time
of D'Urfey's famous " Astrea :" —
" Continue to love your poor Celadon, whose
thoughts, be assured, are ever constant to his star,
and that he wUl remain till death, your " Frederic."
It was after this sad battle of Fleura that Duke
Christian first met the beautiful queen, in whose
cause he had lost his arm, and for whom he had
striven so long. He had frequently seen her pic
tures,* which were carefully exhibited, in order to
• There are a great many portraits extant of the Queen of
Bohemia; indeed, few noblemen's galleries are without one.
That by Gerard Hornthorst, at Woburn, has been copied fre
quently. Grainger enumerates many; amongst them, one with
a large ruff, and a feather in her hair ; and one, in which she is
represented on horseback, the horse richly caparisoned. At
Combe Abbey, she appears with all her children.
At the period of her distresses, caricatures appeared of her;
and one, in particular, at Antwerp, which pictured the beau
tiful queen as an Irish beggar, with her hair hanging about her
ears, and her child at her back, her father, carrying the cradle,
following. The disposition of King James towards his unfortunate daughter
did not seem quite apparent to the artist, or he would, probably,
have made him figure in the character of an Irish landlord turning
out his unlucky tenant, instead of affording her relief, or follow
ing her fortunes.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 93
excite enthusiasm, by her zealous friend. Sir Thomas
Roe ; and, like every one who looked even upon the
mere shadow, was charmed and interested; but when
he saw " the substance of that lovely shade," aUthe
chivalry and gallantry of his nature were roused,
and, from a cold, fierce, daring, and severe soldier,
he became the devoted slave of her worth and
beauty. His romantic affection was aU chivalric ; he had
at length found a being for whom he considered he
could devote his whole powers with honour; she
was the guiding-star whose rays he had hitherto
wanted to reward his valour with sufficient splen
dour ; and, when he placed her glove in his hat, as
the proudest ornament he could wear, he drew his
sword, and took a solemn oath never to lay down
arms until he should see the .King and Queen of
Bohemia reinstated in the Palatinate.* Immedi-
. ately on taking this engagement, he eagerly pro
claimed it to the world ; and, discarding his ancient
motto, which conveyed a denunciation against
priesthood, he substituted the words, " For God
andfor her!'
The enthusiasm of the Scotch and English volun
teers Avas kindled at this burst on the part of Chris
tian ; and not one, even those perhaps amongst the
party at whom the lively queen had laughed f — but
* Miss Benger.
t Amongst many of the unquiet spirits of the time who were
delighted with an opportunity of exhibiting their valour, were
men whose absurdities might well excuse the ridicule of the young

94 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
renewed their vows to support her. Elizabeth had a
lover in every soldier ; and what the vain queen of
England, her namesake, believed herself to be, this
queen. Such a one was a man of war, who boasted the name of
Arthur Severus Nonsuch O'Toole ; whether, even at his advanced
age, he drew his sword in defence of Elizabeth of Bohemia's cause,
is not clear ; but he was the model on which gallants ofhis period
were formed.
" The captain was a singular compound of vanity, courage, and
caprice. He took every occasion of exercising and boasting of
his precipitate valour, which he abundantly displayed against the
Irish rebels. Ireland was not the only scene of his romantic
bravery ; he served as a volunteer in various nations, and was as
notorious and ridiculous in other parts of Europe, as in his own
country." ^
He, like Tom Coryat, was the whetstone and the butt of wit.
John Taylor, the water-poet, has written an ironical panegyric on
him, dedicated to " The unlimited Memory of Arthur O'Toole, or
O'Toole the Great, being the Son and Heir of Brian O'Toole, Lofd
of Poore's Court, and Farre CoUen, in the County of Dublin, in
the Kingdom of Ireland ; the Mars and Mercury, the Agamemnon
and Ulysses, both for wisdom and valour, in the Kingdoms of Great
Britain and Ireland." In the argument to the history or enco
mium on him in verse, the author classes him with Thersites,
Amadis de Gaul, Don Quixote, Gargantua, "and other wild and
redoubtable adventurers ; and informs us that AVestminster is
now honoured with his residence, 1622. His portrait appears on
the title-page, in which he holds a sword in his hand, on the blade
of which are many crowns. At the bottom are these verses,
worthy of their subject ; he was then eighty years of age : —
" Great Mogul's landlord, both Indies' king.
Whose self-admiring fame doth loudly ring :
Writes fourscore years, more kingdoms he hath right to,
The stars say so, and for them he will fight too.
And though this worthless age will not believe him,
But clatter, spatter, slander, scoff, and grieve him :
Yet he, and all the world, in this agree
That such another Toole will never be" — Grainger.
He might have furnished Shakespeare for an original for his
Pistol, Parolles, and others of that ilk.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 95
persecuted and unfortunate, but beloved, being, was
indeed, " The Queen of Hearts."
It was impossible but that the object of all this
adoration must have been deeply gratified by it ;
but it was not from any feeling of vanity ; her mind
was far above such weakness, and she had none of
the low spirit of her mother : she returned the love
of her husband with all the tenderness he felt for
her, and she rejoiced to be the beloved of aU, for
his sake and that of her children. It might be
that the enthusiasm she excited amongst her friends
may have blinded her to the real motives of her
desire to continue the fatal struggle for power,
which had been so disastrous in the first attempt,
and, dazzled by her own aspUations and the
applause of all, she took that for pious devotion,
which was, in fact, ambition. But, even the failings
of Elizabeth turned to virtue's side, and no mean
or grovelUng thought or motive, such as disgraced
her father, ever found entrance in her heart ; if she
erred, it was at least nobly ; and if it would have
been more virtuous, more wise, and more pious, to
have Uved quietly, doing good at Heidelberg, as
the more experienced Juliana advised, the ardent
and aspiring nature given her by Heaven must
plead her excuse for the love of false glory which
she could not repress.
That most cunning of all clever politicians, who
was, in appearance, all things to all men, Gondo-
mar, the Spanish ambassador, had, at this time.

96 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
completely gained the ear of James ; and he was
now, more than ever, afraid of losing the brilUant
prize which he was weak enough to believe the
Catholic monarch intended to give him. He did
not hesitate between his desire for the marriage of
Prince Charles Avith the Infanta, and the sacrifice
of aU his daughter's interests ; and he was pro
perly rewarded for his meanness and pusiUanimity.
WUson tells a comic story, amongst many others,
shoAving how Uttle respect was paid to the king of
England by the proud monarch of Spain, whom he
so meanly courted. So contemptible did James
appear in the eyes of all, that, even on the Spanish
stage, he was openly ridiculed. In one comedy
they introduced messengers, arriving post-haste,
bringing news that the Palatine was likely to have
a very formidable army, shortly, on foot ; for the
king of Denmark would furnish him with a hun
dred thousand — pickled herrings; the HoUanders
Avith a hundred thousand — butter boxes ; and
the king of England with a hundred thousand —
ambassadors. He was caricatured wearing a scabbard without
a sword, and Avith a sword that no one could draAV,
though a great many persons Avere pulling hard
at it.
When Lord Digby was sent into Spain as one
of those extraordinary ambassadors whose expe
ditions, to no end, made their inaster a by-word
in Europe, the manner of his treatment Avas

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 97
enough to show the estimation in which James
was held.
" He landed at St. Andero, in Biscay, a poor
maritime town, where the people for the most part
go all barefoot, and there his lordship had the
patience to stay a fortnight, expecting the Court
civUities, they being then on the remove from
Madrid to Lerma."
In this miserable place — an idea of which may
weU be formed by any who have been reduced to
stop at a Spanish country town or vUlage, or even
at any such in France — the ambassador was aUowed
to remain without notice being taken of his arrival ;
and when he, at length, sent to intimate that he
waited the King's pleasure, he was told that the
journey of the Court was merely one of amuse
ment, and not of business.
Swallowing his mortification as he could, Don
Juan, as Digby was caUed by the Spaniards, sent
a special message to importune the King for an
audience at Lerma — a mode of conduct which infi
nitely annoyed the high-spirited lords and gentle
men in his train. He was, therefore, permitted
to approach as near as Burgos, about twenty miles
from Lerma, but being there, he seemed again
forgotten, as before. Again he despatched his
messenger. Sir Francis Cottingham, to entreat to
be allowed an audience, who brought back word
that some order should be sent the next day.
VOL. II. H

98 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Accordingly, one of the Duke of Lerma's secre
taries" condescended to employ a common peasant,
who brought a letter, mentioning that two coaches
should arrive the day following to transport the
King of England's ambassador and suite to a place
caUed VUla Manza, about a mUe from Lerma,
where they would find suitable lodgings provided,
and the " King's Harbinger" attending to prepare
aU things with dUigence. This gave new life to
his lordship's spirits ; the coaches came according
to the timCj and to ViUa Manza they went, in
all their splendid equipments — the young English
fashionables in great delight, with visions flitting
before thek minds of lovely donnas, gorgeous
courtiers, a splendid summer palace, fountains,
gardens, guitars by moonlight, and more than
Eastern splendour. GaUy and gallantly they rode
along, straining their eyes to behold the turrets of
the romantic Villa Manza gleaming from amongst
its groves. Many a traveller in the North of Spain
has done so, before and since, with the same result !
At length their carriages arrived at a rugged,
squalid, dirty, ruinous-looking viUage, and in the
centre of— what could not be called a street, but —
a muddy, fUthy lane, bordered with broken-down
huts, where gaping peasants and chUdren stood
staring at the unwonted apparition Avhich amazed
their senses, the brilliant cavalcade halted.
The gorgeous ambassador looked from his win
dow and demanded the cause of delay. " We

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 99
are at VUla Manza," was the astounding reply.
"Drive to the lord ambassador's house!" ex
claimed Lord Digby, impatiently. But vain were
his indignant commands, — vain the inquiries of
the astonished and bewildered attendants ; and the
more astonished and more bewUdered country-
people, who professed utter ignorance of the exist
ence of any house, or of any King's Harbinger,
or of any train arrived to meet them, in fact,
could only assure them they were in a dream, as
they believed themselves to be.
The English strangers drove up and down the
wretched little town, surrounded by a crowd of
ragged boys, not knowing what to do ; there was
not a house worthy to be used by them as a stable
in the place, and the ambassador of England was
constrained to sit in his coach in the street for four
hours, while he sent on a messenger to Lerma, to
endeavour tp find out the meaning of this strange
neglect. Arrived at Lerma, the messenger was not per
mitted by the guards to approach beyond a cer
tain limit, being informed that the whole Court
were at the theatre, and no message was allowed
to be sent to the King during his recreation. The
discomfited herald returned to his master much
crest-faUen, and recounted his misadventure.
The ambassador caUed for his portfolio, being
now convinced that, by some error, he had stopped
at VUla Manza by mistake, instead of some other
H 2

IGO EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
place ; but no ; clearly and too legibly written dovra
in his letters was the poetical and musical-sound
ing name of " ViUa Manza," the dirty vUlage in
which he was planted !
Anger now got the better of courtesy, and the
ambassador commanded the Spanish coachman, in
no very gentle terms, to retum at once to Burgos ;
but this that functionary refused to do, as contrary
to the orders he had received ; whereupon aU the
party got out of their carriages, mounted their
horses, and prepared to ride back, leaving their
conveyances there. The coachman-in-chief, how
ever, fearful of losing the gratuity he expected
from the rich English, finding they were in earnest,
volunteered to turn his horses' heads, and do their
bidding ; meanwhile, however, a consultation had
taken place, and prudence had overruled choler;
so that it was thought advisable to enter tke largest
of the hovels in the town aud resign themselves to
their fate.
The owner of this tenement, with bare waUs and
scarcely any furniture, received the ambassador
Viith aU the gravity and pomposity of a Spanish
grandee, overwhelming him with words ; but
nothing besides being provided for their accom
modation. In the midst of this perplexity, news
was brought that the expected " Harbinger" was
at last arrived. The ambassador, smoothing his
ruffled temper as weU as he could, desired him to
be introduced. He began by offering a thousand

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 101
excuses for his unavoidable delay, and, after a
shower of compliments, congratulated his lordship
on his sagacity in having divined the very house
which himself and one of his feUows had been the
day before to bespeak.
Lord Digby's fury began again to mount as he
jooked round the wretched room. "Why, then,
sirrah," said he, to the master of this castle, " did
you deny that I was expected?" " Your lordship
is in error," was the calm reply ; "I never heard
of you before, and no one ever came to my house
on your account."
This was too much : such barefaced falsehoods
and indignities, even a govemor of Barataria could
not have endured ; and preparations were instantly
made to throw the lying Harbinger of his most
Catholic Majesty out of the window. He was,
however, too nimble for them; and, clearing the
room at a bound, dashed down the staircase, and,
bolting through the court, was out of sight before
he could be overtaken.
Seldom had the elegans of the Court of James
been condemned to pass such a night as they now
found their portion ; and seldom, it is to be ima
gined, did the town of VUla Manza echo to such
objurgations as on this occasion, when its walls
had the honour of receiving an ambassador from
the first monarch in Europe.
By break of day again was Cottingham sent off
to Lerma, to demand an explanation of the duke.

102 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
He represented, with much heat, aU that had
passed, at which the great man appeared duly
shocked; but, suddenly, he was confronted Avith
the fugitive Harbinger, whose apparently "plain
tale" at once " put him down."
He stated, in the most simple manner in the
world, that the ambassador, having expected tha^
several grandees would meet him at ViUa Manza,
not finding them there, had refused to enter any
house, had treated aU the preparations for his
reception with contempt, and, finaUy, when he
waited on him to do him service, had threatened
to throw him out of the window ; and that he was
obliged to fiy from his violence.
The duke was more shocked at this account
than at the other ; and, putting on a severe coun
tenance, expressed his amazement that " so great
a counciUor as Don Juan should have so miscarried
with passion as to menace and affront the King's
officer in that manner."
The ambassador had, in fact, no remedy but to
remain in his rural retreat for several days, untU
it was the pleasure of the Court to hear what he
had to say from King James. "Such," observes
the sarcastic historian, " were the glories of the
Spanish entertainments, the honours shown the
EngUsh, and the ground-work of that union
between the nations, whereon they buiU up
some great formalities, which, like royal shadows,
vanished in the end and came to nothing."

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 103
AU this time King James persisted in recom
mending passive patience to Frederic, who perforce
was obliged to obey. Another daughter, Louisa,
was bom in this time of uncertainty, who became
the object of her mother's pecuUar affection ,
although the hopes she entertained of her, amongst
so many others, were destined to fade as weU as
the rest.
It weU became a Protestant King to sit tamely
by and see the inheritance of his grandchUdren torn
from them, as well as the realm which Frederic had
acquired, not by violence or treachery, but by the
choice of a whole people ; and this by a monarch,
who gave, as his best reason for despoiling him of
everything, that the " Palatine House had always
been the nursery of heresy; and, since God had
given his party the opportunity of rooting out the
unbelieving, the precious moment ought not to be
neglected!" Yet this did James continue to do, and to be
content with the pretended interference of Spain to
preserve some part of her possessions to lus daugh
ter, allowing himself to be cajoled, and the King
and Queen of Bohemia injured past redress. Her
town of Frankenthal — the last left to her — was taken
by a Spanish garrison, as if in trust, to be restored
to her ; but such was, of course, never the intention
of the greedy and artful monarch, who cheated the
vfise King by specious promises whenever he thought
it necessary to do so.

104 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The great ally of Frederic, his uncle the Due de
BouiUon, died, and this was, indeed, a blow not to
be recovered ; but it was succeeded by others not
less stunning, untU the courage of EUzabeth herself
began to quail. Her champion, Duke Christian,
ha'd just retired to Wolfenbuttle after the loss of a
battle, in which he had been defeated by the famous
Tilly; and here he found his family in conster
nation, aU having submitted to the Emperor,
and having, without his knowledge, mediated in
his favour, and obtained the offer of a free pardon
for him, on condition of his abandoning the cause
of the King and Queen of Bohemia. But so proud,
so firm, and so resolute, was Christian known to be,
that, when he arrived, there was no one who dared
to make him the proposal : he knew a herald was
at his brother Ulric's Court, and he was too certain
negotiations were going on ; he, therefore, shut
himself up in his chamber, and refused to see any
person whatever. His mother, however, dared to
disobey him, and, by her prayers and tears, endea
voured to subdue his infiexibility.
The great soldier could not behold her distress,
or listen to the representation of her dangers, and
those of his family, unmoved ; he even listened to
the arguments she repeated of his uncle, the King
of Denmark; but when she, encouraged by his
forbearance, produced the imperial parchment — the
pledge of reconciUation — his passion broke forth,
and, snatching the hateful scroU from her hands.

QUEEN OF .BOHEMIA. 105
he trampled it beneath his feet, and hurled it into
the flames, exclaiming,
" Thus let it perish; I wiU not obey the King of
Denmark. I disdain his authority — defy aU the
recreants ; and again swear never to lay down my
arms tUl the King and Queen of Bohemia shall be
restored to the Palatinate."
The duchess gave up the contest, and retired with
Duke Ulric for Holstein, whUe Christian coUected
a few scattered troops, and went his weary way to
join the standard of Mansfelt.
WhUe this* was going on. Prince Charles and
Steenie were on their way to Spain, on that foolish
and romantic expedition which reflected so little
credit on any party concerned, and whose supposed
utility the pride of the overbearing favourite at
once annuUed.
Elizabeth writes to Sir Thomas Roe at this time,
1623: " I have cause enough to be sad, yet I am stUl
of my wild humour to be as merry as I can, in spite
of fortune. I can send you no news but that which
will make you sadder ; and I see you have no need
of it. All grows worse and worse, as I know you
understand by honest Sir Dudley Carleton. My
brother is stiU in Spain : the dispensation is come,
and I know not yet upon what conditions. My
brother is stUl loving to me : I would others had as
good nature. He sent WUl. Crofts to see me, from

106 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
Spain, with a very kind letter and message. But
my father wUl never leave treating, though with it
he hath lost us aU ; for poor Frankenthal he hath
delivered to the Spaniard, and now would make
a truce for fifteen months tiU a peace be made ; to
give our enemies time to settle themselves in our
country. My young cousin of Brunswick is stUl
constant : he hath a fair army of twenty thousand
men. He was forced to leave Mansfelt by his evU
usage. Mansfelt i^ a brave man; but aU is not
gold that glitters in him. I am glad you like our
pictures. The King desires me to tell you that he
wishes all were of your mind, and that he entreats
you to be assured of his love.
" I pray you commend me to the Count de Tour
(Thurm). I will answer his letters by the first
(opportunity). I would the Turks payed the Em
peror soundly, for it is a hard choice which is the
worse dieull. I need not desire you to do all the
good you can, for I see you do it ; which wiU make
me ever to be constantly your most assured friend,
Elizabeth.
" I pray you recommend my love to your wife.
Farewell, honest TJiom!'

As may be seen from the above letter, ^EUzabeth
did not aUow her spirits to sink under her reverses ;
and she contrived to live in a state of considerable

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 107
comfort and enjoyment during her residence in
HoUand, where all around were devoted to her.
" Where friends in aU the aged she met,
And brothers in the young."
She had a dear female friend, Amelia of Solms,
who had been her companion in all her vicissitudes,
and whose romantic marriage to Count Henry of
Nassau gave her as much pleasure as she could
then receive.
The circumstances of this marriage reflect credit
on all the parties concerned; and occurring in a
station of life where such things are rarely known,
are the more worthy of notice.
Count Henry, the brother of the Prince of
Orange, after he became the widower of Louisa de
Coligni, had retired, somewhat mournfully, to his
brother's Court. When Elizabeth came to ask
hospitality there, he felt the charm which her wit,
her beauty, and her amiabUity, spread around ; and
in her friend Amelia he saw her reflected in colours
as fair as the original. He knew that his brother
wished him to marry again; but he reflected on
the improbabUity of one with his ambitious views
consenting to his union with a woman who, though
of royal blood, had neither power nor wealth to
make her a desirable match.
He, therefore, brooded in secret over the disap
pointment he saw in store for him, and indulged in
the dangerous society of the Queen and her charm-

108 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
ing friend with a tremblitig pleasure, which, he
feared, would soon be rudely swept away. Mau
rice, however, had more affection for his brother
than ambition, and was clear-sighted enough to
see the state of the case; and, one day, to the
extreme amazement of Count Henry, suddenly
proposed Amelia to him as a wife; adding, that
he considered a person who had so long lived with
the Queen of Bohemia, was her steady friend, and
resembled her so much, could not fail to make any
husband happy. The count could not at first
beUeve his happiness, and feared to trust his hopes ;
but his brother assured him he spoke in earnest
and after mature deliberation, and nothing was
now left to the lover but gratitude and joy.
The marriage was solemnized with great pomp ;
and Elizabeth enjoyed the delight of seeing two of
her faithful friends rewarded ; for forty years her
friendship with Amelia continued unabated, and no
shade ever passed over their intercourse, for Amelia
never presumed on her acquired rank, which now
placed her even above her former mistress; and
Elizabeth was always the kind and tender friend
whom she had known in early youth.
It was about this period that, amongst the band
of volunteers who came to study war under the
Prince of Orange, an Englishman was distinguished
for his mUitary talents, and his devotion to her
cause, above the rest. This was WiUiam, Earl of
Craven, a nobleman of exalted mind and generous

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 109
disposition, whose attachment to his royal mistress
partook stiU more of romance than that of any
of the other knights who fought beneath her banner,
and whose name was, in future, to be inseparably
joined with that of the princess, whose interests he
espoused, and to serve whom seemed the sole end
of his existence.
Along the gloomy sky of their fortunes a bright
meteor suddenly flashed, giving hope of more
prosperous days ; for the caprice of Buckingham,
when such an event was least expected, seemed to
place the affairs of the King of Bohemia in a most
promising position.
Elizabeth thus writes to her friend. Sir Thomas
Roe : —
" Since my dear brother's return into England
aU is changed from being Spanish; in which I
assure you that Buckingham doth most nobly and
faithfully for me. Worthy Southampton is much
in favour, and all that are not Spanish.
" The Parliament should have been upon the I Oth
of last month ; but, by reason of the good Duke of
Richmond's death, who was found in his bed :* you
know how weU I loved him, and may, therefore,
easily guess that I am not a little sorry for his loss.
The Parliament began the 1 9th of the last month.
I send you the copy of the King's speech, which I
know AvUl not afflict you. I leave aU particulars to
* See the Duchess of Richmond's Life, in this work.

110 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Sir Dudley Carleton' s letters ; only I AviU teU you
that one thing gives me much hope of this Parlia
ment, because it begun on my dear dead brother's
birth-day. I must also teU you, that my brother
doth show so much love to me in all things as
I cannot teU you how much I am glad of it. The
good old Count of Tour is here, whom, I think,
you have bewitched, for he cannot speak enough
of your kindness to him ; which I give you many
thanks for. He is still very confident of Bethlem
Gabor.* Honest Tom, I pray be ever assured of
my love ; and be confident I am ever your very
affectionate friend, " Elizabeth."

* The real name of this singular man, whose influence Eliza
beth anxiously looked for, was Gabriel Bethlem ; he was a native
of Transylvania, of a good family, but poor ; and his wife was in
the same rank and circumstances as himself. By a concurrence
of events he became, from a private man, the sovereign of Tran
sylvania ; and the mixture of piety and warlike enterprise in his
character, rendered him one of the most remarkable personages
ofhis time.
After the death of his homely wife, whose chief distinction
seems to have been her culinary talents, Gabor even' aspired to
the hand of one of the archduchesses, daughter of the Emperor
Ferdinand ; and as it was the interest of most of the princes of
Germany to humour, if not favour him, in order to prevent his
declaring in favour of the King of Bohemia, the haughty Ferdi
nand allowed him to imagine he might listen to his proposals ;
and, in order to secure him, the hand of a sister of the Queen of
Sweden was actually offered him by the Protestant party.
The juvenile preparations which this antique lover, ivith a long
flowing white beard, made for his marriage, and the fiddlers,
jewellers, and milHners, sent for to his Court on the occasion, was
a theme of much mirth throughout Europe.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. Ill
Count Mansfelt visited England, and was received
with honour : troops were levied for the relief of
the Palatinate. Buckingham openly declared in
favour of the exUed famUy of Bohemia ; and, as the
Spanish match was broken off, aU things seemed
propitious. With aU this appearance, however, not
more than twelye thousand pounds could be wrung
from James for his daughter's cause, who thus
addresses her correspondent : —
" I had answered you sooner but that I stayed,
hoping every day to send some certain news out of
England, where there are thirteen thousand men
a levying for Mansfelt. What they are to do I
know not ; for the King and I are utterly ignorant
of aU, though they say it is for our service. The
King doth give you many thanks for your forward
ness in his service, as you shaU see by his own
letter to you.
" He is of your opinion concerning Bethlem
Gabor and his peace, and wUl see what means can
be done to encourage him ; and by my next, I hope
to say more to you on that point. For the mar
riage you write of for him,* our princes in Ger
many are so ticklish in that, as they wUl hardly
propound one, before they be desired from Beth
lem Gabor himseff, or some underhand from him.
Sir Robert Anstrather is now with the princes of
* Roe had advised the offer of the Princess of Bradenburg's
hand to Bethlem Gabor.

112 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
Germany from the King my father. By Sir Dudley
Carleton's letter, you shall see what he doth there.
I see they are all forward enough if they had a
head ; but they strain courtesy who should begin.
The King of Sweden offers as much as can be
desired : I would my uncle would do so too ; but
he is more backward than so near a kinsman should
be. I have no hope of the Elector of Saxony ; he
will ever be a beast. By my next, I hope to let
you know more. I wiU also send you a cipher,
and for this time you shaU have all more fully by
Sir Dudley Carleton.
" I am sure you have aU heard the infinite loss
we have aU had of the brave, worthy Earl of South
ampton, and his son, the Lord Wriothslie.* You
know how true a friend I have lost in them both ;
and may imagine easily how much my grief is for
them, which hath been redoubled by the death of
my youngest boy, save one, caUed Louis. It was the
prettiest chUd I had, and the fu-st I ever lost. I
have christened this youngest of aU, Edward. You
see I can send you nothing but deaths ; only your
wife,t Apsley, (Anne Dudley,) is gone to England
to marry Sir Albert Morton, who goeth ordinary
ambassador to France. I have not yet seen the
Dutch ambassador's letter you refer me to, but I
am* promised. Honest Thom, I pray stUl continue,
* Both died of fever; the son at the winter-quarters of the
army at Rosendale, and the father at Bergen-op-Zoom, where he
had brought his son's body, intendmg it to be taken to England.
t This alludes to some joke between them.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 118
as you have done, to do your best in these busi
nesses ; for I am most confident of your love to me,
who am ever constantly, " Your affectionate Friend,
" Elizabeth."

The hopes of the Queen and her party were
destined to be again crushed; delays and irreso
lution defeating aU the plans intended for her good.
Buckingham's attention was distracted by his eager
ness to perfect the French match, now that he had
rejected the Spanish, and the fine army, so speedily
ready in England, to fiy to the assistance of the
King and Queen, were kept in feverish excitement
without being permitted to depart ; and when, at
last, they did so, not being allowed to land either
in Flanders or Holland, by degrees their numbers
dvdndled away, before the forces in Denmark or
France were put in motion.
At this crisis King James died, and, immediately
after, Maurice, of Nassau, the great stay of the cause,
expired also. This last was an irreparable loss to
EUzabeth, and she thus deplores it : —
" 26 July, 1625.
" I have had of late two such great losses as hath
made me unfit to write to you or any else; for the
King's death and the Prince of Orange's did follow
VOL. II. I

114 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
SO near one another, as it gave me double sorrow for
the loss of such a father, and such a friend, whom I
loved as a father. AU this hath much afflicted me,
and I should have been sadder, but the comfort of
my dear brother's love doth revive me.
" He hath sent to me Sn- Harry Vane, his
cofferer, to assure me, that he wiU be both father
and brother to the King of Bohemia and me.
Now, you may be sure, aU Avill go weU in England;
for your new master will leave nothing undone for
our good. The great fieet is almost ready to go
out. If Bethlem Gabor be an honest man, I hope
he shall shortly have no excuse, not to be crowded
by diversion.
" My uncle, the King of Denmark, doth begin to
declare himself for us, and so doth Sweden. I
hear a discourse of what you have so often wished,
of a marriage for Gabor. The Elector of Branden
burg hath a sister, and he is our brother-in-law : I
hope you understand me that it is she I mean ;
but I pray keep this to yourself, tUl you hear it
from others. I am sure you hear already of the
Prince of Orange's marriage with one of my women.
She is a Countess of Solms, daughter to Count
Solms, that serves the King of Bohemia at Heidel
berg. / doubt not but you remember him by his red
face, and her mother by her fatness : she, you never
saw, but two of her sisters ; she is very handsome
and good; she has no money; but he has enough
for both.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 115
" I have heard that you are to be recaUed; let
me know if it be so ; if it be true I hope it shaU
be for a good preferment, Avhich, I assure you, none
wishes you more than I do : if you be not rec^Ued,
I shaU, and the King, more freely employ you than
ever ; because I know you will have more liberty
to do us good than ever, for I have the best brother
in the world. He is now a married man ; for
his marriage was performed at Paris, the Ist of
this month, (old style,) by the Duke of Chateau-
neuf, otherwise Prince Genuille, as representing my
brother ; she is now on her way for England. If
I can at any time do you any good to my brother,
I assure you I will if I do but know in what ; for I
wiU never be unfaithful to you for the many testi
monies you have given me of your good affection.
Therefore, honest Thom,*' be assured that I wiU
never change being constantly your most assured
loving friend. " Elizabeth."

Miss Benger, in her admirable life of Elizabeth
Stuart, well remarks on this letter : —
" There has never, perhaps, existed a document
which more strikingly Ulustrates the vanity of human
expectations than this. How faf Charles justified
the confidence reposed in him by his sister, vS^ill
I 2

116 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
appear hereafter: of Sir Henry Vane it is here
needless to speak.
" The great fleet, which EUzabeth had contem
plated Avith such exultation, saUed to Cadiz, and,
after having weathered a severe tempest, returned
to England without the rich gaUeons, or any recom
pense worthy of such an undertaking. Equally
unavaiUng were the brotherly promises which had
excited in her mind such ardent feelings of grati
tude. That the first impulse of Charles, was strong
and generous, cannot be doubted.; but his faith
was given to Buckingham, and his good inten
tions frustrated by empty coffers, and the mutable
humours of his capricious favourite. ;
" The marriage of Charles, from which Elizabeth
augured aU that she wished, proved a fatal source
of discord, and ruin to herself and her family. The
espousals of Bethlem Gabor were celebrated with
Catherine of Brandenburg, only to endow that prin
cess with a splendid portion for a second husband.
The results of the Northern coalition were stiU more
melancholy. "Of aU the circumstances mentioned in her
letter, the union of Count Henry of Nassau with
Amelia de Solms, to which she appears to have
attached the least importance, alone contributed to
her permanent comfort."
Her brave defender. Christian of Brunswick, her
ally, Mansfelt, both died and left their places vacant ;

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 117
they had fought for her to the last, but the vic
torious General Tilly's star was in the ascendant,
and theirs became extinct before it. The Emperor
Ferdinand conquered aU before him ; Buckingham,
continually swayed by his passion and his interest,
was never to be trusted, and, at length, the steel of
Felton put an end to his intentions of repairing the
neglect he had shown to the persecuted King and
Queen of Bohemia.
Elizabeth and her husband now retired from the
Hague, to conceal their sorrows and their poverty
in a more secluded spot. They fixed upon Rheten,
in the province of Utrecht ; and there, with her
usual cheerfulness, the Princess endeavoured to
form a happy home, where her husband might yet
find the simple enjoyment which best suited his
disposition. Their gardens, their vUla, and the
pleasures of the chase furnished them with agreeable
occupation ; while the care and education of their
large family, and an extensive correspondence, fully
occupied their time, and prevented their thoughts
from dwelUng too much on the realms they had lost.
How well content would Frederic have been here,
to remain unmolested, realizing the vision of the
poet, Cowley : —
'' In books and gardens thou hast placed aright.
Thy noble, innocent delight ;
And in thy virtuous wife, where thou again dost meet
Both pleasures more refined and sweet ;
The fairest garden in her looks.
And in her mind the wisest books.

118 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Oh ! who would change these solid joys
For empty shows, and senseless noise.
And all which rank ambition breeds,
Which seem such beauteous flowers, and are such poisonous
weeds.''
Once when the Queen was out hunting, she was
nearly made prisoner by a party of Spanish chas
seurs, who pursued her so closely that, but for the
fieetness of her horse, she must have fallen into
their hands.
Occasionally they were, in their retreat, stiU able
to afford protection to persecuted Protestant fugi
tives, who sought shelter from the cruelties of the
Emperor Ferdinand; and sometimes there arose
enthusiasts, who still predicted that a glorious
fortune was yet in store for them.
Of all the numerous children of Elizabeth, per
haps the most promising was her eldest son, whom
she had named after the two dearest to her in the
world, Henry Frederic. She loved to imagine that
she saw in him a great resemblance to her beloved
brother ; and his early genius, his vivacity, inteUi
gence, affection, and generosity made him as much
the idol of the family as Prince Henry had been
of England. Some of his letters, from chUdhood
upwards, are preserved, and are extremely inte
resting, as they develop his character, and show
the easy, natural manner in which he was aUowed
to express his thoughts— so different from the
constrained and pedantic style which EUzabeth

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 119
AA^as herself forced to adopt, when a chUd. One of
his letters to his grandfather is amusing from its
simplicity. " Sir, — I kiss your hand. I would fain see your
Majesty. I can say nominative hic, hsec, hoc, and
aU five declensions, and a part of pronomen and
a part of verbum. Ihave two horses alive that can
go up my stairs, a black horse and a chesnut. I
pray God to bless your Majesty.
" Your Majesty's obedient Grandchild,
" Henry Frederic."

He thus writes to his brother from Friesland : —
" Dear and heartily beloved brother, I have
taken a long journey from Prague to the Nether
lands, and am now in Friesland, with Count Ernest,
of Nassau. I hear that Spinola has been wounded,
but is not dead. I entreat you to present my
most dutiful remembrance to my grandmother, and
dearest love to my sister."
" Nov. 1620."
His letters to his brother are full of little details
of the family, such as little Prince Rupert's arrival
" blithe and well, safe and sound!' and how he
uttered his first sentence in the Bohemian tongue,
signifying " Praise the Lord." He teUs of having
visited Leyden, and heard an Arabic professor's

120 eminent ENGLISHWOMEN.
discourse, of which he adds, with infinite earnest
ness, that " he did not understand a single word."
The great object of his affection appeared to be
his sister Elizabeth : —
" I wish," he says, in writing to his aunt
Catherine, " for nothing so much as to see her
again, with all happy things around her, at dear
Heidelberg. I beg your Highness to accept with
this a pau of gloves and a sUver pen — would it
were better for your sake ! I beseech you to present
my friendly greeting to my cousin Catherine, and to
my sister EUzabeth a true-hearted brotherly kiss, to
whom I send also the enclosed trinket— a little
heart— in token of my fond, faithful, fraternal love."
To Charles he writes, longing earnestly to see
him, but expresses his fears that their meeting wUl
be delayed, as Heidelberg is besieged, adding —
" I trust you omit not to pray diligently, as I
do, both day and night, that it may please God to
restore us to happiness, and to each other. I have
a bow and arrow with a beautiful quiver, tipt Avith
silver, which I would fain send you, but I fear it
may faU into the enemy's hands."
The sister, Elizabeth, of whom he was so fond,
was as much distinguished as himself for her re
markable capacity, and the progress she made in
her studies ; and there was an affectionate emulation
between them, who should outstrip the other. Alas '

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 121
the career of this interesting boy was soon to ter
minate, like that of the uncle he so much resembled.
His father was accustomed to make him the
companion of most of his excursions to Bois le
Due, Breda, or any place of peculiar interest ; and
when he expressed an earnest desire to accompany
him to the sea of Haarlem to see the Spanish
gaUeons, which the naval hero of Holland, Peter
Heins, had brought home in triumph, it was
impossible to refuse his eager request; while his
mother was forcibly reminded of her brother
Henry's attachment to maritime concerns, as she
remarked the animation with which he listened to
the details of the event.
She parted with her husband, and the son she
was never to behold again, with smiles and joyous
anticipations of their amusement ; and they set out
full of gaiety and expectation.
It was evening when they reached the Zuyder-
see, which was crowded with vessels, aU arriving
with the same intent. By some it is related, that
the yacht in which they saUed became entangled
with a larger vessel ; by others it is asserted, that
they were crossing in the usual ferry-boat ; but be
that as it may, the catastrophe was the same : their
vessel was run down and instantly sunk. The
King of Bohemia clung to a rope, and, with great
difficulty, reached a boat which had come to his
assistance ; but aU efforts to save the unfortunate
Henry were vain. The last words he was heard to

122 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
utter — words which must have rung for ever in the
King's ears, and startled his wretched mother in her
midnight dreams, were — "Save me, father, save me!"
It is related, that his body was afterwards found
clinging to a boat, partly in and partly out of the
Avater, but frozen to the cords and planks that sup
ported him. This is a horrible tradition ; for if he
could have reached such a position, he must have
been lost for want of assistance. It is surely more
probable that he sank at once and was drowned,
as no effort would have been spared to rescue him,
had any help been avaUable. His father has been
reproached for deserting him, for meanly hiring a
common passage-boat in which they sailed, and for
want of feeUng after the event ; but these are ideas
too dreadful to entertain for a moment, and are un
worthy of the affectionate character of King Frederic.
That neither of the parents of the ill-fated youth
could ever after bear to allude to the lamentable
event is not surprising : of all her sufferings, Eliza
beth probably found this blow the hardest to bear.
As for Frederic, after their bereavement, he
seems to have resigned himself to regret and de
spondency, and abandoned the care of his affairs
entirely to his wife, and his secretary, Rusdorf : he
heard, without interest, of memorials in his favour
presented to the Emperor by the advice of Charles
the First, and was passive when he became aAvare
of the unworthy proposal made by that iU-judging
monarch, that they should consent to the expressed

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 123
desu-e of Ferdinand, and allow then- son, Charles
Louis, to be educated at Vienna as a Catholic.
How scornfully and indignantly did the outraged
Queen reply to Sir Henry Vane on this occasion,
and how fuU of shame should her brother have been
to have offered her such an insult !
" Rather than stoop to such an act of meanness,"
she exclaimed, " she would, with her OAvn hands,
take away her son's life."
But, just when all hope for Elizabeth and her
famUy appeared at an end, Gustavus, the hero of
Sweden, came sweeping onward in his conquering
career, and declared himself the champion of the
exUed race.
New hopes sprung up, new prospects opened,
and aU former losses and disappointments were
almost effaced by the brightness of the future.
Frederic was roused from his torpor of grief, and
called again into action : old friends re-appeared
and encouraged him; Count Thurm, Sir Thomas
Roe, Lord Craven and others, again exerted their
utmost to revive an almost blighted cause, and the
unfortunate king consented to take his place once
more on the stage of fortune.
The name of Sir WUliam Craven is so intimately
connected with that of the Queen of Bohemia, that
he demands particular notice in any account that
concerns her. His once good family had been
reduced during the civil wars of the Roses, and

124 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
remained depressed for some time in the humbler
walks of Iffe, tiU, by industry and talent, the father
of Sir William amassed an immense fortune, and
rose to honour.
At seventeen, the young man entered the service
of the Prince of Orange ; and when Charles the
First came to the Crown, he was created Baron
Craven, of Hempstead MarshaU. When he found
that Gustavus had opened a new field to fame, and
that there was yet a possibiUty of assisting the
beautfful and unfortunate Queen, to whom he had
vowed eternal devotion, in common with most of
the gallant spirits of the age, he lost no time in
hastening to join his standard : and great was his
exultation in being appointed to conduct the hus
band of his mistress to a meeting with her great
champion. The interview of Frederic and Gustavus must
have filled his mind with joy ; and visions of tri
umph doubtless flitted before his eyes, as he beheld
them clasping each other's hands in amity. There
was but one happiness wanting, that of greeting
Elizabeth herself, and seeing her smUe with her
usual radiance on the group of devoted friends,
who swore to defend her and her husband and
chUdren. He missed her, when the interesting
wife of Gustavus arrived, through danger and
fatigue, at his camp, and, closely embracing her
hero, the tender Eleanora exclaimed, playfully : —
" Now then, is the great Gustavus a prisoner 1"

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 125
Frederic, too, as was always his wont, looked
back with regret to the place where he had left his
heroic wife, whose counsel and encouragement his
now bleeding heart required more than ever : as he
passed through towns once traversed by her in
those days of joy when she came a blooming bride
to his dominions, he sighed to observe the change
time and war had made : speaking of Oppenheim
he says to her : —
" This place is now totaUy different from what
you once saw it I I am resolved to go to Mayence,
because I shall have less difficulty in receiving
letters from you. I have once followed the chace,
but when I was coursing the hares, how did I wish
for you at my side!"
Frederic was welcomed everywhere with the
strongest expression of affection by his old subjects ;
but his heart was in the watery grave of his eldest
son, and he had evidently ceased to receive plea
sure from any hope of the future. A gallant action
was performed at the strong fortress of Creuzenach,
where Lord Craven led a forlorn-hope at the head
of his brave British volunteers, and was the first to
plant the victorious banner of Bohemia on the walls
of that stronghold. Gustavus, enchanted at his
intrepidity, exclaimed aloud to the gallant soldier —
" I perceive you are wiUing to give a younger
brother a chance of your title and estate." Craven
was much wounded, but he was sufficiently re-

126 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
warded ; he had fought for EUzabeth, and had been
commended by Gustavus of Sweden.
His conduct at several succeeding sieges was
equally glorious, and his name was a rallying-cry to
the British army.
Their successes now followed as quickly as their
former defeats. Frederic, though he took no com
mand, followed the movements of the troops, and
witnessed the famous passage of the Lech, consi
dered one of the most memorable of the achieve
ments of Gustavus, where the brave TiUy received
his death-wound.
The spirits of the King seem to have a little
revived ; and he writes, describing the beauties of
the country to his anxious viife : —
" We spent," he says, " one day at Fresingen,
of which the situation is exquisitely beautiful : the
palace is nothing extraordinary, but the deer come
almost to its gates, and there is a noble perspec
tive extending to the Tyrolese mountains and their
snowy summits."
What a singular mixture of violence and peace
his letters exhibit 1 Of Gustavus he says : —
" He is an exceUent prince, and e^inui can never
be experienced in his society. May God long pre
serve his precious life ! "
He congratulated EUzabeth on the cession made
her by her brother, of property bequeathed by

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 127
the Duchess-dowager of Holstein, who was very
rich.* " I cannot but be pleased with this proof of
affection in your brother, and that Ue is satisfied
with my conduct, God knows, I would not wU
lingly incur his disapprobation, and am proud to
proclaim my obligations to his kindness. * * *
Happy am I that Rupert is so pleasing to you, and
that Charles goes on well. They are, in truth, all
very near my heart. May God but grant me the
happiness to see you all again ! I beseech you to
say everything kind for me to our Queen, madame
of Orange.
" I had written thus far, when who should arrive
but Marquis Hamilton, with your dear, dear letter.
I have seen the cession made by your brother in
your favour, as a testimony of his affection. It is
very gratffying ; but how much more is the proof
you give me of attachment, in appropriating it
exclusively to my advantage. Never can I suffici
ently thank you for this goodness ; but I would far
rather it should be vested in good security, to raise
a fund for the gradual liquidation of every debt
with which you are at present encumbered.f For
myseff, I desire no other portion than that you
should equally repay my love. Ah ! do not allow
. * Owing to litigations, wars, and controversies, no part of this
property ever came to Elizabeth's hands. — See Miss Benger.
t Frederic in everything proves himself, a man fitted to shine
in domestic life ; his views were too honest for his position.

128 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
yourself to suspect that absence can ever diminish
affection such as mine. I could wish that your
daughter became a marvellous beauty, and that I
could procure her a splendid marriage. The Count
Maurice AviU be iU pleased to find the Count Hanau
Ins rival. Upon second thoughts, I believe neither
of these will have her ; and M. Hautin keeps her
for his own son.
" This morning I went with the King to visit my
good Cousin's palace.* The Marquis of HamUton
protests it is the finest house he ever beheld. The
most precious articles have been removed ; but there
stUl remain many rarities, which are not, however,
very portable ; and even if they were, the King of
Bohemia would not choose to take one of them.
I began this letter yesterday. I shaU now conclude,
assuring you that I remain for ever,
" My best and only beloved, " Your " Frederic."

Delays and vexatious negotiations, such as had
always been fatal to the interests of Frederic, still
continued to exercise their baneful influence, and
his mind appears to have been in a constant state of
excitement during the successes of Gustavus, and the
* The Duke of Bavaria had himself planned this palace. Fre
deric showed great magnanimity in disdaining to exult over his
faithless kinsman.

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 129
treaties of England. He was seized with fever, a
circumstance which he carefully concealed from
EUzabeth, although the depression of spirits ob
servable in his letters must have in some degree
betrayed the state of his mind and body. This
iUness seemed to return at intervals, and, doubt
less, had greatly weakened him when the news of
the great victory of Lutzen, where Wallenstein was
defeated, and the hero of Sweden perished at the
moment of triumph, came to overwhelm him with
its important consequences. His most powerful
friend was gone, and the future fate of his family
was again involved in perplexing uncertainty. Nei
ther his mind nor body were equal to this last
dispensation ; and when he exclaimed, "It is the
will of God !" he resigned himself to the decree,
and laid him down to die.
His last thoughts were of her who had been
dearer to him than all the world beside. He died
at Mentz on the 17th of November, 1632 — less than
a fortnight after his gaUant defender, the King of
Sweden : after all his vicissitudes and trials, he was
only thirty-six years of age ; but fate had, crowded
the sad events of his Iffe into a little space, and
made him aged in suffering.
His remains were transported to Sedan, where
they were allowed to repose in peace.
, The " marvellous grief " of Elizabeth on receiving
the fatal intelUgence is not to be described : it was
by her totally unexpected : she had made herself so
VOL. II. K

130 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
happy in the prospect which, but a few short days
before, seemed opening upon her in such dazzling
lustre, that it was difficult to contemplate this
sudden end to aU her aspirations ; and she might
have exclaimed, with the Persian poet : —
" My dreams were yesterday so blest.
Like the young moon just rising fair ;
To-day — a star extinct may best
Be likened to my void despair !"
When she could recover in some degree from'
such an affliction, EUzabeth roused herseff, to
transmit the following memorial to the States of
Holland : —
" It has pleased Almighty God to call from this
scene of woe my ever and most entirely beloved
consort — an event of which I desire to transmit
you an account, not doubting of your fuU and
generous participation in my sorrow : and what
renders this calamity the more overwhelming is,
that it foUowed immediately that of his aUy, the
glorious, the invincible. King of Sweden, and on the
eve of triumph, just when he was about to re-enter
into possession of his States with aU his former
dignity. Thus to lose him, renders my grief almost
beyond endurance. My first great resource is
Heaven : next to that divine trust I confide in you ;
nor wiU I doubt but that to me and my chUdren
wiU be continued that friendship, so long manifested
to my lamented consort.
" It is for a Avidow, for her orphans, that I now

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 131
implore your protection; conscious that it is not
less the pride than it has been the glory of your
commonwealth, to offer a refuge to the oppressed
from the oppressor. It is for you to receive those
? who have been proscribed for the sake of righteous
ness and truth; you refuse not succour to the
destitute and persecuted ; therefore, to your friend
ship, in his last moments, did my husband consign
me and my bereaved chUdren."
In aU the sorrows of the Queen, she had been
comforted, hitherto, by the steady affection of her
husband : they had mutually supported each other,
and together were able better to endure all their
troubles ; but now they came upon EUzabeth with
redoubled violence. Her chUdren were taken from
her to be governed by others ; her brother grew
more and more lukewarm in her cause ; her friends
feU off, and her relations were faithless ; except
Lord Craven, she had scarcely a true partisan left,
and he was but little supported.
Plans, the most distasteful to her, were sug
gested by cold-hearted politicians for her sons ; and
she was obliged to rouse her maternal energy, to
prevent their being sent off on the wUdest knight-
errant expeditions.*
* A Scheme was proposed to send the young Prince Charles
Louis to take possession of the Isle of Madagascar, and his
brother, Rupert, to found a colony in the West Indies. The enter
prising youths by no means objected to this plan, as it would
give them occupation, and offered independence.
K 2

132 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
It was not till four years after their father's
death, that Charles the First invited his two
nephews, Charles and Rupert, to England. Eliza
beth, anxious to guard their youth from the dangers
to which they might be exposed, and, in particular,^
fearing that their religious faith might be ^tampered
vrith, solicited her zealous friend. Lord Craven, to
foUow, and be on the watch for their sakes. He
also exerted himself for the payment of Elizabeth's
pension, for he found it quite necessary to do so.
The monarch of the most magnificent court in
Europe found it difficult to afford a pittance to
his sister; and, notwithstanding his professions of
kindness, her sons found no advancement in
England. At length, tired or ashamed of his supineness,
when the young prince solicited his aid after the
Emperor Ferdinand's death, the King consented to
sanction any steps his friends might take for the
recovery of his dominions, and even promised to
equip a fleet for his use.
" And now," writes the Elector, " we shaU see
whose professions are real or not : my Lord Craven
has already offered ten thousand for his share ; if
aU were like him, the affair would soon be com
pleted." There was Uttle in the character of Charles Louis
to remind his mother of her eldest lost son, or of
the husband who was to her aU indulgence and

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 133
consideration. She was shocked to find, that, in aU
his negotiations, self was ever predominant, and to
mention the interests of his brothers and sisters
offended and annoyed him. He already assumed
a tone of dictation to the Queen, intruding his
advice on her domestic arrangements, and in no
instance did he show any desire to conciliate or
benefit her. Lord Craven, who was only eight
years older than the Elector, was the only person
who, by judicious management, contrived to soften
the harshness of the son, and soothe the mortifica
tion of the mother. He devoted himself entirely
for their advantage in every way, accompanying
them in their military expeditions, and sending the
Queen regular details of their operations.
" The first movements of the combined army,"
says Miss Benger, " amounting but to four thou
sand men, were successful : but having been driven
from the siege of Lippe, they had the misfortune
to encounter General Hatsfeld, over one wing of
whose army Lord Craven and the Palatine princes
had obtained a decided advantage, when suddenly
they found themselves abandoned by the Swedes,
and were at length overpowered by superior
numbers." This was Prince Rupert's first action, and he
fought with such obstinate bravery, that but for
Lord Craven, his Ufe would have been sacrificed,
for he refused to surrender. Both he and his

134 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
gaUant friend were made prisoners, and Charles
Louis escaped with the utmost difficulty, entering
his coach and driving with aU speed towards
Minden, where he ordered the coachman to ford
the river which impeded his progress. This was
done ; but it was found that the opposite bank was
too steep to ascend, and Charles, aware that he
was closely pursued, had no way of escape but
by cUmbing up the rocks, tUl, by dint of scrambling
and clinging to the pendant plants, he managed to
reach the summit, and alone, ahd a fugitive, made
his way to Minden.
From thence he let his mother know his reverse
of fortune, and, to add to her grief, he was obliged
to inform her that her beloved Rupert and her
faithful friend Craven, were captives. Charles Louis
showed his selfishness even at this moment, by
begging his mother would not attempt anjrthing in
¦favour of his brother, who was strictly guarded in
the castle at Vienna : but in the meantime Rupert
had contrived to send her a few lines simply to
quiet her apprehensions, and to assure her that no
power on earth should induce him to abjure his
faith, or renounce his party.
Lord Craven had to pay the enormous sum of
twenty thousand pounds for his liberty, and then,
instead of hastening to a place of security, he,
whose whole existence was devoted to the service of
that "most resplendent Queen even in the darkness
of fortune," as her aged admirer, Wotton, called

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 135
her, — stiU lingered in Germany, vainly hoping to
obtain the liberty of her darling son, who was kept
in durance for three years, and then exchanged for
Prince Casimir, of Poland, not without being forced
to pledge his faith not again to bear arms against
the Emperor.
The young Elector during this period had been
arrested, in a somewhat incautious expedition
through France, and was a prisoner in the castle
of Vincennes, under a pretext which suited the
views of Cardinal RicheUeu and Louis XIII. at
the time, while three of his younger brothers, who
were in Paris for their education, were surrounded
by spies, and treated with great harshness.
It required some time before the anxieties of
Elizabeth could be quieted ; and she again saw
her chUdren at liberty ; but the mean concessions
of Charles Louis, and the noble firmness of Rupert,
were so strongly contrasted in her mind that she
could not help betraying her feeling on the occa
sion, and thus caused a jealousy which her eldest
son ever after indulged toAvards his brother.
Another change now manifested itself in the
chequered fortunes of EUzabeth ; her son's title
of Elector Palatine was acknowledged by France,
and her niece, Mary, daughter of Charles I., was
contracted to Prince WiUiam of Nassau, an
eventful alUance, which, although its importance
could not be then contemplated, was haUed by
her as a happy omen. The infant nuptials were

136 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
celebrated with extraordinary pomp, and the
elation of the Prince of Orange knew no bounds
at the honour of being thus connected with the
crown of England.
None of the gaiety and splendour of these
espousals, however, found their way to the quiet
Court of Elizabeth of England, which was justly
called the " Mansion of the Muses and the Graces,"
for there the beautiful mother, still young and attrac
tive, and her three charming daughters, rendered
their retreat a theatre of taste, grace, and learning.
This is the Court which Evelyn speaks of in his
diary, when, in 1641, he visited the country : —
" The 26th July. I passed through Defft to the
Hague, in which journey I observed divers leprous
poor creatures, dweUing in solitary huts on the
brink of the water, and permitted to ask charity of
passengers, which is conveyed to them in a fioating
box that they cast out.
"Arrived at the Hague, I went first to the
Queen of Bohemia's Court ; there were several of
the Princesses, her daughters. Prince Maurice,
newly come out of Germany, and my Lord Finch,
not long before fied out of England from the fury
of the Parliament.
" It was a fasting day with the Queen for the
unfortunate death of her husband, and the presence-
chamber had been hung with black velvet ever
since his decease.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 137
" The 28th, I went by Leyden, and the 29th to
Utricht. We then came to Bynen, where the Queen
of Bohemia hath a neate palace or country house,
built after the Italian manner, as I remember."
It was said of these Ulustrious sisters that the
first, Elizabeth, was the most learned ; the second,
Louisa, the greatest artist; and the third, Sophia,
the most accomplished lady in Europe.
The Princess Elizabeth was another Jane Grey
for learning and attachment to study, and her
attainments went beyond those ordinarily granted
to females ; her habits were essentially different
from tUose of her mother or sisters : she found no
amusement in the chase, which with the Queen
Avas as great a passion as it had been with her
father, King James ; nor had she any skUl in music
or light accomplishments, consequently she did not
stand so high in her mother's favour as the others;
and her sensitive feelings, perhaps, led her to
imagine she was stiU less so than in reality was the
case. Her mind had a tincture of gloom, owing
to the sorrows and misfortunes of which she had
been a continual witness from her birth. She was
a good deal separated from her mother in early
Ufe, and had lost the habU of famiUarity with
her, which, probably, imparted a coldness to her
manner little in accordance with the Queen's
ardent temper.

138 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Her grandmother, Juliana, to whom she was
most accustomed, was grave and devout; her
cousin, Catherine, the same; and she grew up
without having known the usual gaiety and light-
hearted freedom that attends childhood. Her
studies were the same as those of her brothers,
and her attachment to Henry Frederic led her
to choose those which he pursued. His sad end, at
the early age of fifteen, was a blow which her sensi
bility never recovered; and the loss of her father,
and all the subsequent misfortunes of her house,
combined to render her retiring and somewhat
melancholy. She had no inclination towards
forming a matrimonial alliance, and secretly re
joiced when several negotiations on the subject
failed. It has been imagined that she had some
attachment which her high birth forbade her
indulging, but there is nothing to prove the sup
position, although it is by no means unUkely.
She corresponded with Des Cartes on the most
abstruse subjects ; and he held her character and
acquirements in the highest veneration and esteem,
dedicating his works to her, and addressing her on
all difficult questions. He wished to bring her
and Christina of Sweden acquainted ; but the
jealousy of the celebrated daughter of Gustavus
prevented their ever meeting or continuing a cor
respondence Avhich the princess had begun at his
request. She was a friend of WiUiam Penn, of

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 139
Pennsylvania, who had several conferences with her,
and has published some of her letters.
She resolved to devote herself to a single state,
and finaUy became established at the head of a
female Protestant community at Hervorden, of
which she is usuaUy styled "the Abbess," as her
sister Louisa was of a Catholic convent.
Louisa, who was her mother's pride, from the
remarkable beauty of her person, an advantage
Avhich her sister Elizabeth did not possess, was
distinguished for her talent in languages, and her
skiU in painting. Her works are occasionally to
be found in cabinets, and are valuable both for the
sake of their author and for their intrinsic merit.*
Her master was Gerard Hornthorst, Avho took
infinite pains with her, and was very proud of his
pupil : her story is somewhat singular, and affords
another instance of the misfortunes which attended
her mother throughout her life.
Brought up in the strictest principles of the
Protestant faith, and considered by her mother as
staunch and as true as her sister EUzabeth, she
suddenly changed her religion, escaped from her
home, and alone and on foot traversed the streets
of the Hague, where she was met by persons with
whom she was in correspondence, and conducted
to a convent of CarmeUtes, at Antwerp. Her
* In Lovelace's " Lucasta," is a poem on " The Princess
Louisa's drawing." — Grainger.

140 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
departure, of course, spread consternation in her
family, and amazement was at its height when a
paper was found on her table, on which she had
written—" I am gone to France with the intention
of becoming a nun." There had been certain
aspersions on her character which have never been
explained, and these she laboured hard to confute
during her stay at Antwerp ; after which, she went
to Rouen, where her brother, Prince Edward, with
whom she had been at variance, and who, to the
grief of his family, had become a Catholic, met and
conducted her to Chaillot, where she was admitted
as a sister, and became an object of great interest
to all who rejoiced over the conversion of a Calvi-
nist. She was afterAvards made Abbess of Mau-
buisson, and her ambition was gratified by the
visits of all the royal personages in the kingdom,
by whom she was caressed and congratulated, and,
finaUy, made little less than a saint in the Oraison
Funebre pronounced over her.
These CathoUc and Protestant abbesses seemed
quite to forget that they had a mother who re-
quUed their care, their tenderness, and their grati
tude, and that the most meritorious act of christian
charity they could have performed, would have
been to endeavour to soothe her sorrows, and miti
gate her sufferings. By their friends, of both
parties, these sisters are held up as pattems of
piety and goodness ; in the eye of common sense

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 141
and feeUng they can only be looked upon as vain
and selfish personages, who neglected a great and
evident duty for an imaginary one.
The beautiful Sophia, who " was mistress of
every qualification requisite to adorn a crown,"
was married about the same time that her sisters
embraced a recluse life. Her life, after her mar
riage, was by no means congenial to her taste;
and her letters express the discontent she felt at
residing in a duU, uninteUectual Court. Her hus
band was not at that time even presumptive heir
to the States of Hanover, as he afterwards became,
and she had little idea that her son would become
King of England. She lived to the age of eighty-four.
But, at the period, from which these particulars
are a digression, the three princesses were the
ornament of their mother's simple Court, and the
admiration of surrounding nations. Poetry, music,
painting, and phUosophy, fiomished amongst them,
and every intellectual pleasure abounded. But
the fearful scenes of civil war in England taught
Elizabeth that peace was yet far removed from
her family ; her brother was driven from the
throne ; her sister-in-law, the hard, haughty, and
unamiable Henrietta Maria, was a fugitive, whom
she was called upon to welcome and to comfort.
Although the Queen of England had always stood
between her and prosperity, Elizabeth Stuart for
got all her wrongs in her misfortunes, and exerted
herseff to show her sympathy and kindness.

142 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The beloved Rupert, and his brother, Maurice,
threw themselves, heart and soul, into their uncle's
cause, and did for him what he had been too dUa-
tory in doing for their father. The young Elector
caused her many a heart-ache, by the meanness of
his conduct in courting the Puritans, and proved
himself as contemptible and selfish as she had
feared he would become.
In 1644, the excellent Princess Juliana expired.
Her last words to her daughter, Catherine, were :
" Give my fareweU to the Queen of Bohemia ;
tell her that, in my last moments, I gave her my
solemn benediction. In this world I shall never
see her more ; but it shall be the last prayer on
my lips, that she may long survive to taste what
ever health, gladness, or satisfaction, this world
has to bestow, and to enjoy all the blessings she
so well deserves. Let her know how much from
my inmost heart and soiU I have loved and
honoured her, and that I declared these sentiments
in the hour of death."
This tribute of esteem from one of the most
exalted and virtuous women of her time, is the
gTcatest proof of the noble character of her who
could inspire such sentiments.
This was a shade of comfort to the afflicted
Queen, sufficiently required ; for those nearest and
dearest to her deserted her in her increasins:
poverty and anxiety of mind. Her eldest son had

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 143
disappointed her hopes ; her two unnatural daugh
ters (for such they must be called) had sought
their own gratification at a distance from her;
one son, Edward, had become an apostate ; and her
young son, Philip, had disgraced his name by the
cowardly assassination of a man who had offended
him; her brother, Charles, was murdered by his sub
jects ; and she herself — a name almost forgotten !
Her beloved Rupert was looked upon rather as
a haff-crazed knight-errant, than the hero she
expected him to be; and he was, besides, little
better than a corsair and adventurer;* and, after
a struggle of thirty years, the successor of her
devoted husband was a poor prince, shorn of haff
his territories, and happy in being allowed to retain
the little left him. Prince Maurice's fate Avas
never known to her; he was supposed to have
perished in the Indian seas, and her young daugh
ter, Henrietta, died soon after she became a bride ;
whUe her daughter-in-law, the virtuous Princess
of Hesse, was obUged to leave her husband, Charles
Louis, whose immoral and cruel conduct made his
name a by -word in Europe. Very little reason had
this charming and amiable woman to be proud of
her chUdren, who were all so singularly unUke
herseff. Rupert, who was, there is reason to believe, her
favourite, whatever might have been his personal
* Miss Benger.

144 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
regard for his mother, must have disappointed her
hopes in many particulars, and have been a fertile
source of mortification and annoyance to her ; for
he seldom spared her feelings in any of his expe
ditions, although he seemed to have been really
attached to her. A proposed matrimonial engage
ment, which had been projected for him by his
mother and sister, and to which he had a great
inclination, was frustrated in consequence of the
UUberal conduct of his brother, the Elector ; and,
perhaps, that disappointment might have prevented
his character from becoming sobered dovra to
respectability. Careless and reckless, the Prince then offered his
sword to the best bidder, and actually engaged to
serve the Emperor Ferdinand the Third against the
Swedes — that people who had formerly generously
assisted his father in his struggles. Again, in the
war of 1666, he actually attacked the fieets of
that republic to which both his parents had owed
protection, where his ovra childhood had been
kindly fostered, and from whose munificence his
mother, during forty years, had derived her sub
sistence !
Prince Rupert's character is a singular mixture
of ferocity and refinement — of knidness and inhu
manity — of love for the arts and destructiveness.
He appears as if excited almost to madness when
engaged in warfare, and generally disliked by his
equals at Court ; yet he could converse calmly and

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 145
pleasingly with Evelyn* on his favourite pursuit
of engTaving, and has left an honourable name
as the discoverer of Mezzo-tint. His conduct in
England was sufficiently brutal, if he has not been
strangely misrepresented by the party inimical to
him. Amongst other exploits, Rupert entered Ciren
cester, where the county magazines were placed,
and having put to the sword the whole of the Earl
of Stamford's regiment, and many more, possessed
himself of three thousand stand of arms, and also
of eleven hundred prisoners, with which he re
turned to Oxford. These unfortunate captives,
described as barefooted, half naked, tied together
with cords, beaten and driven along like dogs, he
led in triumph into the city ; when, as we are told,
the King, accompanied by many noblemen, was
content to be a spectator of their calamities, but
gave neither order for their relief, nor commands
for ease of their sufferings ; — " nay, it was noted by
some then present, he rejoiced in their sad afflic
tion." This last remark, one would fain hope, is
overdrawn; though it is even said that Charles's
own adherents vvere, many of them, alienated by
this unfeeling conduct, and so loud was the outcry
* " This afternoon. Prince Rupert showed me, with his own
hands, the new way of graving, called Mezzo Tinto, which, after
wards, by his permission, I published in my history of Chalco-
graphie. This set so many artists on work, that they soon arrived
to that perfection it is since come, emulating the tenderest minia
tures." — Evelyn.
VOL. II. L

146 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
raised against the military brutaUties perpetrated by
Rupert, especiaUy at the capture of Birmingham
— which was sacked, and half of it burnt down—
that, soon after, whUst he was engaged in the siege
of Lichfield, it was found necessary to address to
him a royal message on this topic, in which Charles
desires his " good nephew," by well managing his
affairs, to undeceive the people, who had taken
a notion that their king was not merciful ; " Let
your fair actions make it appear that ydu are no
maUgnants, no evil counsellors ; and that you seek
not the ruin and destruction of our kingdoms,
which aspersions are cast upon you, Avhich can be
no acceptable service unto us." In conclusion,
the Prince is enjoined, in his siege of Lichfield,
to have a care of shedding innocent blood, and
to aUow the people, if they desire it, to have free
quarter, and to march out with bag and baggage.*
Rupert is described as having a sharpness, or
moroseness, in his temper, which led him to treat
with contempt such opinions as he did not approve;
and his haughty and presuming conduct made him
extremely unpopular with the noblemen of his
uncle's Court, who could ill brook his arrogant
demeanour. The Elector Charles did not blush to see his
mother reduced to the necessity of soliciting the
charity of the States, refusing to afford her the
assistance she stood in need of, till at length they
* Rushworth.

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 147
became weary of bestowing, and considered and
treated her as an incumbrance.
Lord Craven, her ever devoted friend, Avho would
wUlingly have sacrificed his whole fortune for her
sake, had been so impoverished by fines and con
fiscations that his once numerous princely possessions
were reduced to one. Combe Abbey, which his
father had purchased of Lucy Harrmgton, Countess
of Bedford, was all that the vengeance of the Com
monwealth had left him, in consequence of his
being suspected of aiding the nephew of the Queen
of Bohemia in his intentions against its power.
Although Lord Craven was known to be in the
service of the Elector, as his master of the horse,
and that prince had made his peace with the
Commonwealth, and was on good terms, yet all
Uis appeals were vain ; and the fifty thousand
pounds which he bestowed on the exUed King of
England was counted against him by the enemies
of monarchy.
Mortified and dispirited, the unfortunate Eliza
beth Stuart was forced to apply to her son, Charles
Louis, and intimate her desire to return to Ger
many, for the pittance he allowed her was insuf
ficient to maintain her where she was. This
proposition was by no means welcome to her
penurious son, who, Uke the chUdren of Lear, had
been reducing her expenses by degrees, until at
last he seemed inclined to say with them —
" Vi'hat need of any V
L 2

148 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
He was, however, obUged to feign satisfaction at
her probable arrival ; but he pretended not to
imagine that she meant to take possession of her
own palace of Frankenthal, but wished her to
suppose he thought she meant to live in the old
castle at Heidelberg.
He wrote to inquire what apartments she would
like to be fitted up for her reception, intimating at
the same time, that nothing coiUd be less inviting
than the society she would be condemned to there,
" I can," he says, " name few men who are con-
versible, and the women as little, and what they
imitate is stUl the Avorst part. Those that are for the
French have nothing from them but their clothes,
good letters ill spelt, and the afftteries of the Marais,
from whence they have aU their modes. For the
Spaniards, they show off their guard-infantas only ;
in everything else as dull and impertinent as can be."
In the next passage he evidently intends a re
proach to his mother.
" I am much bound to your Majesty for your
gracious wish, and had been glad to know my
father's saying when I spoke to your Majesty of
my intentions at my last coming out of England, in
your bed-chamber; but any stranger may be deceived
in that humour, since towards them there is nothing
but mildness and complaisance untU accustomed to
them. But, patience; every one must bear their
task, and it is mine to bear several!'

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 149
This hypocritical resignation to wrongs in a
man who had insulted his amiable wife, by bring
ing a female favourite to her Court, and who,
rather than give her up, had parted with his prin
cess, disgracing himself in the eyes of aU Europe,
whUe he affected religion and morality, is very
disgusting. " If I may deserve your Majesty's favour," he
adds, to the mother, whose visit he Avas endea
vouring meanly to shufile off, " it wiU be the
greatest comfort."
The high-spirited Elizabeth instantly wrote to
stipulate for a residence at Frankenthal ; to which
she received the Elector's reply, who remarks, in
assumed astonishment :
" Sure, your Majesty had forgotten in what
condition the house at Frankenthal is in, when
you were pleased to Avrite of preparing it for you,
for no preparation would have made that fit for'
your living in ; but a whole new building, which
to do, on a sudden, or in a few years, my purse
was never yet in a condition for it ; but I intended
to do it by little and little.
" If your Majesty had come hither, I had done
a little last year. As for the accidents falling out
in my domestic affairs, it is as likely they had not
happened had your Majesty been present ; and if
any other inconvenience had happened Avith regard
to two families (which was not likely,) it might
always have been remedied by a separation.

150 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" As for the taking upon me your Majesty's
debts, which were made upon another score, I
beUeve it cannot justly be claimed; and it is
believed that if your Majesty had shown the States
any intention to come hither, they would have taken
some order to have appeased your creditors."
This feigned respect and real coldness was not
to be endured ; the Queen might have exclaimed,
with the poet. Lord North, —
" So full of courtly reverence.
So full of formal fair respect
Carries a pretty double sense
Little more pleasing than neglect.
It is not friendly — 'tis not free ;
It holds a distance half unkind ;
Such distance between you and me
May suit with yours, but not my mind.
ObUge me, in a ¦more obliging way,
Or know, such over-acting spoils the play."
In fact, EUzabeth was disgusted, and declined
• troubling her ungracious son by her presence at
all ; she could not leave HoUand tiU her creditors
were satisfied, and of that there was little hope, as
far as he was concerned.
In the midst of these troubles she made an
excursion to Brussels, where Christina of Sweden
was then staying ; but she declined meeting her,
as she could not forget that queen's want of cour
tesy to her daughter, Elizabeth, who, though she
had quitted her in a manner but little considerate,
she had forgiven, and Avas stiU in correspondence
Avith her.

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 151
In spite of aU her annoyances, the Queen's
elasticity of character kept her from sinking, and
she stiU pursued her favourite pastime of hunting
with infinite spirit ; though she had stiU to sustain
a frequently -renewed contest Avith the parsimonious
Elector, Avho, having arranged a marriage for his
sister Sophia, with Ernest Augustus, Bishop of
Osnabruck, youngest brother of the Duke of
Brunswick, had an excellent excuse, of which he
took care to avail himself, to evade his mother's
claims. He writes : —
" The expenses about my sister's marriage, not
for the ceremonies or pomp, but for the realities fit
for her, to which I am obliged, render me incapable
of what your Majesty is pleased to require of me
concerning the seven thousand rix-doUars ; for,
besides her due, which I must advance, I am bound
to an extraordinary dowry, more especiaUy for the
friendship she always showed me, and because
nobody else hath done anything for her. Withal
your Majesty wUl be pleased to consider that,
though there be no apparent danger of war for
the present, yet the great expenses I have been
at at Frankenthal," &c. &c.
Though condemned to regret the selfish mean
ness of her son, Elizabeth had stUl some comfort in
her home and the agreeable society of her daughter,
Louisa, whose taste and talents were a constant
source of amusement to her. Louisa was the only

152 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
one of her daughters who had refused to quit her ;
and on her she reposed with perfect confidence and
affection. How great, then, was the shock she
received, when, without a word or sign, the unna
tural daughter quitted the maternal roof, to throAv
herself into the arms of strangers ; and those the
enemies of the religion which her family had
battled to uphold. " This was the unkindest cut of all !"
and the poor Queen felt it deeply and severely at
first. But she writes soon after to her son, Rupert,
in this familiar strain ; her natural cheerfulness get
ting the better of her vexation :
" My Lord Fraser sent you a letter from Por
tugal, and two cases of Portugal oranges : two for
the King, and two for me : as soon as the things
are come from Rotterdam, you shall have your part
sent you. I beUeve Lord Craven will tell you how
much ado he had to save your part from me, for
I have made him believe I would take one of your
cases for my niece, and the Prince of Orange.
I did it to vex him.
" The King and my niece and my other nephew
were at Antwerp, and went to see Louisa in the
monastery. I sent the copy of Sir Thomas Berke
ley's letter to Broughton. My nephew and niece
did write to me before they saw her, to know if
I would be content they should see her; which

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 153
I told them would be too much honour for her: but,
because the prioress of Q. had told such base lies,
they would do a good action to see her, to justify
her innocence. The prioress of Q. did go to
Antwerp twice, and spoke with Louisa. I have
not yet the particulars. Louisa writes they parted
on ill terms. The prioress made many believe, on
her return, she brought me letters from the King,
my niece, and Louisa, to justify her, and talked
two hours with me —wliich is a most impudent lie.
" Cromwell has broken his mock parliament,
because the independents were too strong for him.
" I must tell you I am more beholden to the
Spanish Ambassador, to the Sweden and Denmark
residents, than to your brothers, for they would
not visit the prioress of Q."
The Queen, in the midst of her resentment,
is evidently extremely anxious to clear the character
of her daughter from the aspersions cast upon it :
what was their nature does not appear; but this
prioress seems to have originated them. She
continues :
" I forgot to say that the King and my niece
did chide Louisa for her change of religion, and
leaving me so unhandsomely : she answered, that
she was very well satisfied with her change : but
very sorry that she had displeased me.
. " Just now the French letters are come ; 
Avrites to me, that the Bishop of Antwerp has

154 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
written a letter to yom- brother, Edward, where
he clears Louisa of that base calumny : yet Ned is
so wUful, he excuses the Princess of Tolerne."
She afterwards mentions, that " the Queen of
England has asked her (Louisa's) pardon. I have
excused it as handsomely as I could, and begged
her not to take it iU ; but to think hoAV she would
have felt, had she had the same misfortune." *
The Princess Louisa afterAvards, when she was
made Abbess of Maubuisson, by Louis XIV. formed
a great attachment to Mad. de Brinon, formerly
the confidant of Mad. de Maintenon ; who had
been the superintendent of St. Cyr, tiU she ven
tured to differ with her patroness on points of
opinion, and, consequently, incurred her displea
sure. She was dismissed Avith a pension, and
entered this convent. She possessed great powers
of insinuation ; and obtained as great an ascend
ency over the mind of Louisa, as she had formerly
done over that of the favourite. Animated by her
eloquence, the Princess entered into a correspond
ence with her sister, the Duchess of Hanover, Avith
a view of bringing her over to the Catholic faith, f
Sad are the foUowing letters, which Elizabeth
was now obliged to write to the Elector to urge
her claims. j:
» Miss Benger. t See Bossuet.
t A painful contrast is presented in them to the playful style
in which she generaUy wrote. Mr. Jesse gives the following lively
epistle, first printed in his volumes, addressed to Lord Finch :— '
" My

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 155
Mournful is it to record such instances of cold-
heartedness and neglect, as this royal daughter of
an unfortunate house had to complain of from her
nearest relative. These are only a few of many such
letters which she was compeUed to address to the
niggardly prince who, but for her exertions, would
himself have been a pensioner on some foreign
sovereign, or an outcast and beggar altogether.

" My Lord, " I assure you your letter was very welcome to me,
being glad to find you still heart-whole, and that you are in better
health, if your cough is gone. As for your appetite, I confess
your outlandish meats are not so good as beef and mutton. I
pray you remember how ill pickled herring did use you here, and
brought you one of your hundred and fifty fevers.
" As for the countess, I can tell you heavy news of her, for she
is turned quaker, and preaches every day in a tub. Your nephew,
George, can tell you of her quaking, but the tub-preaching is
come since he went. I believe at last she will become an
Adamite. " I did not hear you were dead, wherefore I hope your promise
not to die till you let me know it ; but you raust also stay till
I give you leave to die, which will not be till we meet a shooting
somewhere, but where that is, God knows best. I can tell little
other news here, my chief exercise being to jaunt between this
and Schievling, where my niece has been all the winter. I am
now in mourning for my brother-in-law, the Duke of Sunmeren's
death. " My Lady Stanhope and her husband are going, six weeks
hence, into France, to the waters of Bourbon, which is all I will
say now, only that I am ever
Your most affectionate Friend, Elizabeth.
" I pray you remember me to your Lady, and to my Lord of
Winchelsea. " Hague, March 4."

156 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" Son, —
" I thought to have written to you by Floer. I
thought  was gone to Amsterdam. I have
stayed tiU now, believing he would have come to
me before he went ; but now I see he is at Heidel
berg. I send this by the post, to let you know the
States have given me for my kitchen one thousand
guUders a month, tiU I shall be able to go from
hence, which God knows how and when that wUl
be for my debts ; whereof I earnestly entreat you
to do so much for me as to augment that money
which you give me, and then I shaU make a shift
to live a little something reasonable ; and you did
always promise me, that as your country bettered,
you would increase my means, till you were able to
give me my jointure. I do not ask you much ; if
you would add but Avhat you did hint, you would
do me a great kindness by it, and make me see
you have stiU an affection for me, and put me in a
confidence of it ; since you cannot yet pay me all
that is my due, that wUl show to the Avorld you
desire it, - if you could.
" I pray do this for me ; you wiU much comfort
me by it, who am in so iU a condition, as it takes
all comfort from me. I am making my house as
little as I can, that I may subsist by the little that
I have, tUl I shall be able to come to you ; which
since I cannot do, because of my debts, which I am
not able to pay — neither the new nor the old;

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 157
if you do not as I desire you, I am sure I shaU not
increase. " As you love me, / do conjure you to give me an
ansioer, and you will tie me to continue
As I am,
" Most tnUy yours."

The Elector would probably have taken no more
notice of this appeal than he had of many others,
but that, in the meantime, a change had taken place
in the affairs of England. Charles II. was restored,
and it might not be policy in him to neglect his
mother any longer : he seems to have sent a favour
able answer, as her next is in a less distressful
tone. "TO THE ELECTOR PALATINE.
" I am glad I was deceived, and that you intend
shortly to send me to the King, and that he wiU
pass by this way. I assure you I neither am, nor
ever was, unreasonable ; so, as reason wiU satisfy
me, I desire not to ruin you, nor to make you live
under what you do. In my letter I told you why
I did not send any to be informed of yom' revenue,
for either they were such as durst not offend you,
or such as might easily be deceived, being strangers ;
and, besides, in the condition that my family was
then in, I easily imagined that they would not be
much regarded.

158 EMINENT ENGLISHVA^OMEN.
" What I have received from you since your
restitution was not so much. Till Frankenthal
was restored you gave me two thousand rix-doUars
per month ; but, since that, you gave me but half,
and I was near six months from receiving anything
to rebate the five thousand the Emperor gave me.
You sent me once seven thousand guUders, and
never since any more ; besides the fifteen thousand
guilders, only two thousand for living. I do not
mention the mourning, for that is a thing of course.
I had not tasted fine bread and white caudles if you
had helped me as you promised; but fifteen thou
sand guilders could not do it, living as I do, much
less as I should, which makes me, in a manner,
beg the States' assistance ; and, as it is, I cannot
give my servants their wages.
" If remembering you to have more wonld have
done it, you should not have lacked ; but when I
wrote I never received answer, which has hindered
me to write concerning my niece's mourning.
" I can assure you there is nothing I more desire
than to have an end of this business, which shaU
be as much for your honour as for my good and
contentment."

The Elector Palatine had, about this time, to seek
his mother's sympathy — which was never withheld
from any of her chUdren — for he was throAvn into
great affliction by the loss of his favourite child.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 159
a boy, bom in England, on whom all the affections
of his heart seemed fixed.
He thus writes on the subject : —
" F'or the too early ripeness of his understanding,
besides the misfortunes of his birth,* made me, as
much as possible, husband the affection I bore him,
for feai' the expressing it too much might injure
his fortune towards those on whom he ought to
have depended, if God gave him life ; and the
setting my heart too much upon him might make
his loss the more inconsolable to me : but I see
God and nature have not vouchsafed me to enjoy
the fruits of my circumspection." *
The mother of the Elector, while she was yet
condoling with her bereaved son, had to beAvail
a loss which greatly added to her load of griefs.
Her favourite niece, the Princess of Orange, went
to England to be present at Charles II.'s coronation;
and, while there, corresponded vnth her aunt,
expressing, in the most affectionate terms, her hope
that she would soon join her in that country ; but,
in the midst of the public festivities, this amiable
princess was seized with the smaU-pox, and died,
to the great sorrow of the afflicted Queen.
Evelyn thus mentions the sad event, in his quaint
and curious diary : —
* He was called Baron de Roseuchild, and was the son of an
Englishwoman of high rank, flhose connexions protected and
brought him up.
t See " Bromley's Royal Letters."

160 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" 1660, Dec. 22. The marriage of the Chan-
ceUor's daughter being now newly owned, I went
to see her, she being Sir Richard Brovrae's intimate
acquaintance when she Avaited on the Princess of
Orange. She was now at her father's, at Worcester
House, in the Strand. We aU kissed her hand, as
did also my Lord Chamberlain (Manchester), and
Countess of Northumberland. This was a strange
change— can it succeed weU?— I spent the evening
at St. James's, whither the Princess Henrietta was
retired during the fatal sickness of her sister, the
Princess of Orange, now come over to salute the
King, her brother.
" 23d. This day died the Princess of Orange, of
the smaU-pox, which wholly altered the face and
gallantry of the whole Court.
" 25th. Preached at the Abbey Dr. Earle, Clerk
of his Majesty's Closet, and my dear friend, now
Dean of Westminster, on 2 Luke, 13, 14, condoling
the breach made in the public joy by the lamented
death of the princess."
EUzabeth, who had now no tie to make her
desire to live in HoUand, looked anxiously forward
to the invitation which she expected from her
nephew, Charles II. Her friend. Lord Craven, had
gone before, in the hope of arranging everything to
her satisfaction ; and he had been received by the
King with great distinction, who created him Earl
of Craven and Viscount Uffington.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. I6l
Ten thousand pounds had been voted her by the
British Parliament, in common with the Queen
Dowager of, England and her two daughters; and
she was thus enabled to adjust her affairs with her
creditors. The coronation of Charles had taken place Avith
all its pomps and ceremonies, delighting the eyes
and hearts of the people, to whom these gorgeous
shows were a novelty, and on which the loyal
Evelyn dweUs with infinite satisfaction.
After enumerating the dukes, lords, and great
people who formed the procession, he continues :
" This magnificent train on horseback, as rich as
embroidery, velvet, cloth of gold, and sUver and
jewels could make them and their prancing horses,
proceeded through the streets strewed with fiowers,
houses hung with rich tapestry, windows and balco
nies full of ladies. The London militia lining the
ways, and the several companies, with their banners
and loud music, ranked in their orders ; the foun
tains running wine, bells ringing, with speeches
made at the several triumphal arches ; at that of
Temple Bar (near which I stood), the Lord Mayor
was received by the Bayliff of Westminster, who, in
a scarlet robe, made a speech. Thence, with joyful
acclamations, his Majesty passed to Whitehall.
Bonfires at night. * * *
" 1 May. I went to Hyde Park to take the air,
where was his Majesty, with an innumerable
VOL. II. M

162 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
appearance of gallants and rich coaches, being
now a time of universal festivity and joy.
" 8th. His Majesty rode in state, with his impe
rial crovra on, and aU the peers in their robes, in
great pomp, to the Parliament now newly chosen."
EUzabeth now took leave of the States, and
proceeded to Defft, every arrangement being made
for her voyage to her native country; when, to
her infinite annoyance and mortification, she sud
denly received a despatch, informing her, from
the ministers of Charles, that it would be more
convenient if her visit were delayed for the present.
The Queen, indignant, as weU as hurt, by this
inhospitable proceeding, instantly wrote to the
ChanceUor, " That having taken leave of her friends at the
Hague, she could not go back to it without incur
ring disgrace ; and that she never would submit to;
that she was willing to return to Holland whenever
his Majesty required it ; but that she must now
depart from thence without delay."
To her beloved Rupert she writes in a sadder
strain than usual.
"I go with a resolution to suffer all things
constantly. I thank God he has given me courage.
I shall not do as poor niece, but wiU resolve upon
aU misfortunes. I love you ever, my dear Rupert."
Accordingly, the once gay and beautfful princess

QUEEN OP BOHEMIA. 163
of England embarked to meet the cold welcome
which awaited her. Charles, who could lavish the
remaining treasures of his nearly-exhausted coffers
on unworthy favourites and profligate amusements,
had nothing to spare for his distressed aunt ; and
it was her exemplary and attached and noble friend.
Lord Craven, whose purse and home were hers
from the moment she landed on the shores of her
own country.
This was at a moment when such scenes as the
following were unwillingly described by a friend,
who would fain have been as lenient as his con
science would permit to the vices of the Court : *
" This evening, according to custo^n, his Majesty
opened the revels of that night by throwing the dice
himself, in the privy chamber, where was a table
set on purpose, and lost Ids hundred pounds. (The
year before he won fffteen hundred.) The ladies
also played very deep. I came away when the
Duke of Ormond had won about one thousand
pounds, and left them stiff ai passage, cards, &c."
At other tables, both there and at the groom-
porter's, observing the wicked folly, and monstrous
excess of passion amongst some losers :
" Sorry I am," says the chronicler, " that such
a wretched custom as play to that excess should be
'countenanced in a Court, which ought, to be an
example of virtue to the rest of the kingdom."
* Evelyn.
M 2

164 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
After a life of sad vicissitude, Elizabeth Stuart
at length landed, the 17th May 1661, at Margate,*
a deserted widow; that place from whence she
had embarked a blooming, happy britie, with hope
and joy before her; but as she left cold hearts
then amongst those nearest and dearest to her, so
did she now retum to find that a new race had
not, in adversity, learnt greater tenderness or feel
ing. Where were now the shouts of the pleased
people to greet her arrival? where the addresses,
the triumphal arches, the garlands, and the throng
ing poets, bent to do honour to the beloved EUza
beth ? — alas ! there were but one or two solitary
friends to bid God bless her, and only one to do
her real service. There was no palace prepared for
her reception ; no guards or troops of attendants :
she landed as any private individual might do, and
her coming was unmarked and uncared for.
* Her old protegk, Phineas Pett, was still living in honour and
prosperity.. Evelyn thus names him, 1663 : " Passing by Chat
ham we saw his Majesty's royal navy, and dined at Commissioner
Pelt's, master-builder there, who showed me his study and models,
with other curiosities belonging to his art. He is esteemed ihe
most skilful ship-builder in the world. He hath a pretty garden and
banqueting-house, pots, statues, cypresses, resembling some
villas about Rome.
" After a great feast, we rode post to Gravesend, and, sending
the coach to London, came by barge home that night."
This is a pleasant passage to read, with a fresh recollection of
the .time when the persecuted man of talent knelt for hours before
the pedant. King Jaraes, defending himself from his envious
enemies, while his gallant and generous young royal patron stood
by, impatientiy witnessing the umvorthy conduct he received, and,
at every pause, encouraging him with kind words and glances.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 165
But she found a comfortable mansion, whose
hospitable doors flew open to receive her, and whose
master had the proud satisfaction of offering a home
to her for whom he had devoted all the best years
of his Ufe. Drmy-House, a pleasant and con^
venient domicile, well situated, and smTounded by
a delightful garden, Avas the place which Lord
Craven had lately piuchased for « her accommo
dation. It had, in Queen Elizabeth's time, be
longed to Sir Robert Drury, and was the scene of
those iU-omened meetings of the unfortunate Essex,
and the discontented men who were plotting against
their sovereign. The Drury family patronized the
poet, Donne, whose misfortunes and poverty they
pitied ; and in this house they permitted him, and
his suffering wife, to find an asylum.*
AU in this mansion was conducted with the
utmost taste and munificence ; and, if she could
have divested her mind from " low-thoughted care,"
here Elizabeth Stuart might have passed a happy
old age. As she was prevented by her generous
host from requiring pecuniary assistance from the
* After the death of the Queen, Drury House, rebuilt by the Earl
of Craven, and surrounded with a brick court, was called Craven
House. In process of time, Drury Lane was built on the site of
the garden ; but a small part of the original mansion subsisted,
having been converted into a tavern, the entrance to which was by
Craven Court, and which, owing to traditional associations, was
called the Queen of Bohemia. Over the door was an equestrian
statue of William, Lord Craven. Strange fate of mighty princes !
The tavern remained so lately as 1794, and a correct print of it is
extant in that curious and entertaining work, " Smith's Topo
graphy of London." — See note to Miss Benger's Memoirs.

166 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
profuse and selfish Charles, he had no objection to
extend to her his usual good nature, and though she
did not make her appearance at Court, or join in
any pubUc festivities, she appears to have been
always on good terms with her nephew. Above
aU, her Rupert was now her companion ; and in
his society she experienced aU the good " the gods
would diet her with."
Lord Craven, desirous that his royal mistress
should, as much as possible, forget her sorrows, and
only be reminded of the happy years she had known
at Heidelberg, immediately busied himseff in pre
paring for her an abode at his place of Hampstead
MarshaU, Berkshire, which he was building on the
exact plan of that favourite palace, once so decorated
and adorned for her by her adoring husband. SirBal-
thazar Gerbier, the famous architect, superintended
the erection; and the Queen must have taken infinite
pleasure in hearing of the progress of this buUding,
where she was to find repose and calm enjoyment,
after all the storms of her chequered existence.
Her daughter, Sophia, writes to her at this time,
congratulating her on her peaceful state ; by which
it appears that she was really tranquU, and had
accomplished her avowed resolution of resigning
herself to whatever fortune was in store for her.
It is pleasing to dweU upon this brief space, in
which she was able to enjoy the scenes around her,
apart from ambition, and the irritating and unsatis
factory splendours of a Court.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 167
The Princess Sophia expatiates to her mother on
the delight she wUl doubtless experience, when she
beholds the " beautiful Infanta," who was expected
shortly to arrive in England as the Queen of
Charles II.
To be a royal personage and lovely, seemed
synonymous ; the comic description given by
Evelyn of this beauty's first appearance does not
impress one Avith any extraordinary ideas of her
charms. " The Queen arrived with a train of Portuguese
ladies, in their monstrous fardingals, or guard-in
fantas : their complexions olivader, and sufficiently
unagreeable. Her Majesty in the same habit,
her foretop long and turned aside, very strangely.
She was yet of the handsomest countenance of
all the rest, and, though of low stature, prettily
shaped ; languishing and excellent eyes ; her teeth
wronging her mouth, by sticking a little too far out :
for the rest, lovely enough.
******
" Now saw I her Portuguese ladies, and the
guarda-dames, or mother of her maids, and the old
knight, a lock of whose hair quite covered the rest of
his bald pate, bound on by a thread very oddly."
What was wanting in beauty the Infanta seemed
to have endeavoured to make up in singularity ;
and though, fortunately perhaps, she had no beau
tfful ladies of honom- to exhibit to the Court; all the

168 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
world was amazed at the rich furniture with which
her rooms were fiUed: such Indian cabinets as had
never before been seen, she brought with her from
Spain, and these formed part of the gorgeous adorn
ment of her state chamber, where stood that famous
crimson and silver bed, presented to the King by
the States of HoUand, worth eight thousand pounds,
with the great looking-glass and toUet of beaten and
massive gold ; an offering from the Queen-mother.
But none of this pomp and glory was Elizabeth
Stuart destined to see ; her health was faiUng her,
and she had removed, for cha,nge of air, to Leicester
House. Here she made her will; and to her
friend, servant, and benefactor — the Earl of Craven
— ^she left her little all— her papers, books, and pic
tures ; for she felt that the end of her sad Iffe was
drawing on. She was now sixty-six, and till the
last year, had not found her strength or health
declining ; but aU was now soon to be over, and
she would be indeed at peace.
On the 13th Feb., 1662, the Queen of Bohemia
died. When her ovra marriage was about to take
place, it was delayed for a time bya death — that of her
beloved brother, Henry; and she died a few days only
before the arrival of her nephew'sbride in England.
On the 17th, it is recorded by Evelyn, that
" this night was taken to Westminster Abbey
the Queen of Bohemia, after all her sorrows and,
afflictions, being come to die in the arms of her
n&phew, the King!'

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 169
Storms and tempests of appalling violence shook
the island from one end to the other that same
night; and the visitation was construed by the
superstitious into a judgment on the land. Evelyn
adds :^
" Divers lamentable fires were also kindled at
this time, so exceedingly was God's hand against
this ungrateful and vicious nation and Court."
There is no record of any sorrow felt at Court
on this occasion : tears for Elizabeth were, pro
bably, shed by her favourite son and her devoted
friend alone ; there was no time to feel sorrow at
Court, when the Infanta, and all her train of
Portuguese beauties, were receiving the homage
of a gaUant monarch and his refined companions :
death was a new jest for them, as the foUowing
letter from Lord Leicester to the Earl of Northum
berland shows : —
"February 17,1662.
" I heare that, as your lordship foretold in your
letter, my royal tenant is departed. It seems the
Fates did not think it fit that I should have the
honour, which indeed I never much desyr'd, to be
the landlord of a queen.
" It is a pity she did not live a few hours more,
to dye upon her wedding daye, and that there is
not as good a poet to make her epitaph as Dr.
Donne, who wrote her epithalamium on that day
unto St. Valentine."

170 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The body lay in state, and was interred the Ist
of March.
Lord Craven survived the Queen of Bohemia
thirty -five years ; he saw the extinction of the male
heirs of Frederic the Fifth, and foUowed his dear
friend, Rupert, to the grave. He lived chiefly at
Combe Abbey after her loss, the scene of her
youth, endeared to him by that remembrance. He
had reached the age of eighty-eight * when he
died. He retained his activity and energy to the
last, both in public and private life. One pecuU
arity he possessed, was his promptitude in all cases
of fire ; so ready was he with his assistance, that
it was a common saying at the time, " that his
horse Smelt fire as soon as it happened." He was
not, unfortunately, on the spot to avert the cala
mity at Hampstead Marshall, when his miniature

* When, at the accession of James II., it was proposed
to take his regiment from him, he exclaimed, " They may
as well take my life, for I have nothing else to divert myself
with." He was said to have a habit of whispering in the ears of the
politicians at Court, which occasioned much amusement to the
young men there, as they judged he wished to appear to possess
some important knowledge. Lord Keeper Guildford styled him,
for this reason, " Ear-wig,'' And Charles II. allowed himself
to be entertained by this foible. On one occasion, the Earl of
Dorset, having, with great good breeding, attended patiently to
some imaginary communication of this kind from Lord Craven,
the King asked him what he had heard ? The earl answered,
" My Lord Craven did me the honour to whisper, but I did not
think it good manners to listen."
¦It has been sometiraes asserted that the Queen was privately
married to him, which is very improbable.

QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. 171
palace of Heidelberg, which had been intended for
his queen, Avas burnt to the ground.
Accomplished, noble, brave, and generous, one
of the most gaUant soldiers in Europe, — tUe most
devoted of friends, and most amiable of men, — his
whole existence was chivalrously bent on one object,
and to that worthy cause he devoted all the ener
gies of his mind and body. He had his reward
in protecting, comforting, and supporting her for
Avhom alone he lived, and in closing her eyes in
her native land, at a moment when prosperity
seemed settling on that country, too long torn to
pieces by civil contentions.
He was a patron of art and Uterature ; esteemed
and beloved by the wise, the good, and the bene
volent ; although the courtiers of Charles the
Second had only ridicule to bestow on him, like
those of Louis the Thirteenth on the great Duke
de SuUy. The approbation and friendship of such
a Court would have been a disgrace, the only one
that could ever have faUen on the friend of EUza
beth Stuart.*
* Grainger speaks of a portrait of him in armour, on horseback,
with this inscription : —
" London's bright gem, his house's honour, and
A great assister of the Netherland :
Bounty and valour make thy fame shine clear,
By Nassau graced, to Swedeland's king most dear.
Who when, on Crusnacke's walls, he understood
Thee wounded, came to knight thee in thy blood :
To whom, when folded in his arms, he said,
' Rise, bravest spirit that e'er thy city bred !' "

LUCY HARRINGTON,
COUNTESS OF BEDFORD.

Distinguished as weU for her learning and
taste as her courtly manners, Lucy Harrington is
interesting as being the companion of the early
days of Elizabeth Stuart,* at Combe Abbey, before
the cares of state had pressed on that fair brow
the seal of sorrow. When stUl very young, she
showed her love of pomp and expense, and a
fondness for gorgeous decoration and elegant erec
tions, which, in after-life, became a source of vexa
tion and disappointment, carried as the pleasm'e
was by her to a ruinous extreme. In the masques^
of Queen Anne, of Denmark, to whom she was
lady of the bedchamber, none appeared with
greater splendour than Lucy Harrington, and no
pageant or revel was complete without her.
The death of her brother, the friend and com
panion of Prince Henry, taken untimely from his
* Two pictures of the Queen are at Combe Abbey, by Marc
Garrard, and Gherardo della Notte.

rfflJIS MA]EIEKIf©ir®M,

'^

ArTKJi J*- MrMIATQRE B'Vf HULT-fAKU

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 173
sorrowing family as suddenly as the hope of Eng
land himself, conferred on her his large fortune
and inheritance ; and when she became the bride
ofthe Earl of Bedford, she was one of the richest
heiresses of the kingdom. Her extreme profusion,
however, the vice of her time, soon made itself
felt, though others profited by her liberality, par
ticularly the professors of the gaie science, for poets
were ever welcome with her, and to the arts she
Avas a munificent patroness.
The unfortunate Dr. Donne, whose weakness
of profusion was equal to her oavu, and whose
generosity was as great, although he deprived
himseff of the means to exercise it, and was forced
to live on the alms he would have gladly dispensed
to others, tuned his unmelodious lute in praise of
his benefactress, lauding her in strains so quaint
and strange, that one cannot but feel astonished
that such verses as he and most of his contempo
raries wrote, could ever find admirers ; particularly
in an age when Jonson taught what poetry might
be, and sweetest Shakespeare still was awakening
his immortal melodies. True is it, that the fashion
of that day, as it happens in our own, was less to
admire simple truth and beauty in composition
than decorated and -artful turns of wit; and, for
the time, pedantry was more in vogue than natural
genius ; fashion carries the taste away in literature
as weU as in costume, and the mind is continually
wandering in mazes tUl it reach again that original

174 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
spot from whence it started ; and, though obliged
to confess the power of truth and nature, and able
to see the ridicule and absurdity of what it tran
siently admired, some novel mode whirls the judg
ment off again, and the fixed principle is once
more neglected to be again returned to, and aban
doned, and loved again, and Ul-iised as before.
All our great poets, from Chaucer to Moore,
have been neglected for meaner lights, and never
have there been wanting detractors who have tri
umphed for a while, and succeeded in spreading
a veil before the sun, which time is continually
removing, and allowing its rays once more to
" Shine in the forehead ofthe morning sky."
Ben Jonson seems himself fuUy alive to the false
taste of his time — strange is it that bad taste is
so immortal ! — when he says, speaking of the
poets, or versifiers, at that time struggling for
mastery : —
" You have others that labour only to ostentation,
and are ever more busy about the colours and sur
face of a work than in the matter of foundation ; for
that is hid, the other is seen. Others, that in com
position are nothing but what is rough and broken,
and if it would come gently they trouble it of pur
pose. They would not have it run without rubs :
as if that style were strong and manly that struck
the ear AvUh a kind of unevenness. These men
err not by chance, but knowingly and willingly ;

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 175
they are Uke men that affect a fashion by them
selves, have some singularity in a ruff, cloak, or
hatband; or their beards specially cut, to provoke
beholders and set a mark upon themselves. Others
there are that have no composition at all; but a
kind of tuning and rhyming fall in what they
write. It runs and slides and only makes a sound.
Women's poets they are called, as you have women's
tailors :
" ' They write a verse as smooth, as soft as cream.
In which there is no torrent, nor scarce stream.'
" You may sound these wits, and find the depth
of them with your middle finger. They are cream-
bowl, or but puddle deep.
" * * * I do hear them say often, some men are
not witty because they are not everywhere witty :
than which nothing can be more foolish.
" But now nothing is good that is natm'al.
Right and natural language seems to have the least
of wit in it : that which is writhen and tortured is
counted the most exquisite. Nothing is fashionable
till it be deformed, and this is to write like a gentle
man. AU must be as preposterous and affected as
our gaUants' clothes, sweetbags and night-dressings.
* * * If it were put to the question of the Water-
rhymer's * works against Spenser, I doubt not but
they would find more suffrages."
* " John Taylor, usually called the ' Water Poet,' was a native
of Gloucester, and intended by his parents for a scholar ; but his
inclination not leading him to learning, though it did to poetry

176 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Drayton,* Daniel, Donne, and Jonson, aU sung
the praises of their patroness, in verse, more or less
harmonious. That of the last is often quoted, and
is, at least, ingenious and enthusiastic, though not
entirely free from the faults his taste condemned.
he was taken from school before he had gone through his Acci
dence, and bound apprentice to a waterman. After he had quitted
the oar, he kept a victualling-house, in Phoenix Alley, Long Acre,
where he hung up his own head for a sign, with this inscrip
tion : — • ' There's many a head stands for a sign ;
Then, gentle reader, why not mine ?'
" He, according to Mr. Wood, did great service to the royal
cause in the reign of Charles L by his lampoons and pasquils. The
works of Taylor, which are not destitute of natural humour,
abound with low jingling wit, which pleased and prevailed in the
reign of James I., and which too often bordered, at least, upon
bombast and nonsense. He was countenanced by a few persons
of rank and ingenuity, but was the darling and admiration of num
bers of the rabble. He was himself the father of some cant words,
and he has adopted others which were only in the mouths of the
lowest vulgar. His rhyming spirit did not evaporate with his
youth ; he held the pen much longer than he did the oar, and
was the poetaster of half a century, dying, aged 74, in 1654." —
Grainger. Perhaps Taylor was the author of a certain satirical lampoon,
which irritated King James very much, as he read it ; for neither
he nor his Court were spared in the abuse it contained ; but its
conclusion saved the poet, and caused only a laugh. After a thou
sand impertinences, it ends : —
" God bless the king, the queen, the prince, and peers.
And grant the author long may wear his ears."
" By my faith," said James, " and so he shall for me; for
though he be an impudent, he is a witty and a pleasant rogue.''
¦• Drayton says of her, that she " rained upon him her sweet
showers of gold." " On a moderate calculation," says Grainger,
" she paid the poets for their panegyric, as much as Octavia did
Virgil for his encomium on MarceUus."

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 177
" ON LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD.
" This morning, timely rapt with holy fire,
I thought to form unto my zealous muse
What kind of creature I could most desire
To honour, serve, and love — as poets use.
I meant to make her fair, and free, and wise.
Of greatest blood, and yet more good than great,
I meant the day-star should not brighter rise
Nor lend like influence from his lucent seat :
I meant she should be courteous, facile, sweet.
Hating that solemn vice of greatness, pride ;
I meant each softest virtue there should meet.
Fit in that softer bosom to reside.
Only a learned and a manly soul
I purposed her, that should, with even powers.
The rock, the spindle, and the shears, control
Of Destiny, and spin her own free hours.
Such, when I meant to feign, and wished to see.
My muse bade  Bedford — write, and that was she."
Sir Thomas Roe, the learned ambassador, who
collected so many treasm'es abroad, and made a
fine museum of medals for himself, sent a catalogue
of them to the Countess of Bedford, accompanied
by a dissertation which, as Miss Aikin observes,
could only be addressed vsith propriety to a respect
able proficient, both in numismatic science and the
Latin language.
Sir Thomas Arundel, the first English collector
of eminence, and the gorgeous Duke of Bucking
ham, who would not be outdone in expense either
in taste, art, dress, or magnificence of any sort,
both employed Sir Thomas Roe, when he was at
Constantinople, to procure for them coins, marbles,
VOL. II. N

178 EMINENT ENGLISHAA^OMEN.
and otUer curiosities ; his successes as well as dis
appointments, from the jealousy and ignorauQe of
the natives, were great. One story told of his
attempt to gain possession of a treasure is curious.
Over the golden gate of the city of Constanti
nople, stood some groups in alto relievo, placed there
by the founder ; on these Sir Thomas Roe fixed his
eye, and spared no exertion to gain them; but
how to do so was the , difiiculty : he could not ask
the Grand Seignior to let him puU down the
entrance of his palace, and the pieces were too
large to carry off secretly, which it appears he
would not have scrupled to do ; he, therefore, repre
sented to a Mufti that religion demanded their
removal ; but the government paid no heed to the
holy man's opinion on the subject. At length,
watching his opportunity when the Turkish trea
sury was low, the ambassador boldly ventured to
offer a large sum for the marbles to the great trea
surer himself.
He found not the slightest hesitation in this
quarter; and his triumph seemed certain, when
suddenly a panic spread amongst the people that
their city was about to be destroyed, for they believed
the figures to be enchanted, and an old prophecy
connected their safety with that of Constantinople.
A violent tumult arose ; the works were obUged
to be suspended : the treasurer found his life in
danger, and the virtuoso was compeUed to bear his
disappointment as he might.

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 179
The very erudite and superior education of Lucy
Harrington, and many of her contemporaries, seems
to have frightened the strict and simplicity-loving
writers of the period ; and all those who had been
long accustomed to consider the female mind as
unworthy of cultivation, were startled at the rapid
strides made by women, who threatened to over
take " their masters " in learning.
One of these repressors of liberal education
thus writes respecting a lady's acquirements :*—
" I would have them read well, but in the
scriptures and good books, not in play books,
romances, and love-books. To learn the use of the
needle, but chiefiy in useful kinds of works ; others,
more curious, are to be learned, if at aU, only to
keep them employed, and out of harm's way. Ex
cessively chargeable ones are not to be used. To
learn and practice, as there is occasion, all points of
good housewffery, as spinning of linen, the ordering
of dairies, and to see to the dressing of meal, salting
and dressing of meat, brewing and baking, and to
understand the common prices of corn, meat, malt,
wool, butter, cheese, and all other household provi
sions ; and to see and know what stores of all
things necessary for the house are in readiness,
what, and when more are to be provided. To have
the prices of linen-cloths, stuffs and woollen cloth ;
to cast about to provide all things at the best hand ;
* See Miss Aikin's James I.
N 2

180 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
to take and keep accounts of all things; to know
the condition of the poultry about the house, for it
misbecometh no woman to be a hen-wife!'
This seems to infer that this perfect lady is
always to live in the country.
" To cast about how to order your clothes with
frugality, to mend them when they want ; and to
buy but when it is necessary, and with ready money ;
to love to keep at home."
The sole recreations the writer permits to the
pattern housekeeper he thus creates are, walking
abroad in the fields, some work with their needle,
reading of histories or herbals, setting of flowers or
herbs, and last, and probably least in his estima
tion, he unwiUingly sets dovra — " and practising
their music."
In a tract, published in 1636, called " The Art
of Thriving," which has in it a vein of satire that
somewhat contradicts the author's professed recom
mendations, it is said of the daughters of the
gentry :
" I would have their breeding, Uke the Dutch
woman's clothing, tending to profit only and come
liness. And though she never have a dancing
schoolmaster, a French tutor, nor a Scotch tailor,
it makes no matter.
" For working in curious Italian purles, or
French borders, it is not worth the whUe. Let them

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 181
learn plain works of all kinds. Instead of song and
music, let them learn cookery and laundry, and
instead of reading Sir Philip Sidney's ' Arcadia!
let them read the grounds of good huswifery.
I like not a female Poetresse at any hand!'
Alas ! for poor Sir PhiUp's charming sister, and
all who followed her dangerous steps ; there was
no promotion for them if their safety depended on
this uncompromising gentleman ! The remainder
of his advice savom's more of worldly prudence
than delicacy or morality; but, in his mind who
evidently " Wonders any man alive would ever rear a daughter,"
the only. object is, to get rid of her by " the clean
liest shift " he can.
" If the mother of them be a good huswife and
religiously disposed, let her have the bringing up of
one of them. Place the other two forth betimes.
The one in the house of some good merchant or
citizen of civil and reUgious government ; the other
in the house of some lawyer or some judge, or well-
reported justice, or gentleman of the countiy."
Thus premising that any famUy would be glad to
receive such an inmate, who, as she required a
justice always at her side, it is natural to suppose
was rather a termagant character.
" In any of these she may learn what belongs to
her improvement, for sempstry, confectionary, and

182 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
aU requisites of huswifery. She shall be sure to be
restrained from all rank and unfitting liberty.
"A merchant's factor, or a citizen's servant of
the better sort, cannot disparage your daughters
with their society : and the judges', lawyers', and
justices' followers, are not ordinary serving-men,
but of good breed, and their educations for the
most part clerkly.
" Your daughter at home wUl make a good wife
for some yeoman's eldest son, whose father will be
glad to crovra his sweating frugality with aUiance
to such a house of gentry.
" For your daughter at the merchant's, and her
sister, if they can carry it wittily, the city affords
them variety. The young factor, being fancy caught
in his days qf innocence, and before he travel so far
into experience as into foreign countries, may lay
such a foundation of first -love in her bosom, as no
alternation of clime can alter.
" So likewise may Thomas, the foreman of the
shop (!) * * * be entangled and belimed with
the Uke springes."
" Some such squffe it was," perhaps, who caught
the daughter of a great house, and made her
" good-Avffe Prannel ! " before she was Duchess
of Richmond !* The writer continues : —
" With a little patience your other daughter may
* See the Life of the Duchess of Richmond, in Vol. I. of this
work.

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 183
light upon some counseUor at law, who may be
wiUing to take the young wench, in hope of favour
¦with the old judge. An attorney will be glad to
give all his profit of a Michaelmas term but to woo
her through a crevice. And the parson of the
parish, being her lady's chaplain, wUl forswear
eating of the pig for a whole year, for su.ch a
parcel of gleb land at all times."
Such is the pleasing prospect held out to a young
lady, brought up in the refined manner described,
— the one plan perfectly according with the other ;
and, haply, she might add to " the catlog of her
perfections " that of a character mentioned as
common in the same tracts, " a she-precise hjrpo-
crite," who " overflows so with the Bible that she
spills it on aU occasions, and wUl not cudgel her
maids without Scripture."
The Countess Lucy happUy escaped such an
education ; although if she had contrived to acquire
a little of the " forecast and aftercast " of Anne
Clifford, or Bess of Hardwick, it might have been
as well to add those qualifications to her other
accomplishments. Amongst her elegant tastes, that
of ornamental gardening was conspicuous, as Sir
William Temple has recorded in his description : her
friend, the Queen of Bohemia, had the same ; and
they had, probably, studied the art together :
" The perfectest figure of a garden I ever saw,
either at home or abroad, was that of Moor Park,

184 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Hertfordshire, when I knew it about thirty years
ago. It was made by the Countess of Bedford,
esteemed amongst the greatest wits of her time, and
celebrated by Dr. Donne, and with very great care,
excellent contrivance, and much cost ; and much
greater sums may be thrown away, without effect
or honour, if there want sense in proportion to
money." These fine gardens seem to have been laid out in
that most beautfful of aU styles, which aUows of
hanging terraces ; the slope of a hUl being chosen,
and every accident of undulation improved : statues
and alcoves were introduced, and, above all, foun
tains were not forgotten ; vdtUout which there is
always something to desire. The taste for antique
gardens is reviving at this moment;* and, judiciously
modified, it is one which is extremely attractive.
The superiority of our flowers and shrubs, at the
present day, to those known and possessed by our
ancestors, gives us a great advantage ; and, by
avoiding the formality which often disfigured their
gardens, we now combine all of grace and grandeur
of which this charming art is susceptible.
It is melancholy to recount that, like so many
others who give way to expensive tastes, the creator
of these enchanted gardens was unable long to
enjoy the dehghts they offered. Her resources
were incompetent to support the charges she had
* At Chatsworth, Longleat, and elsewhere, beautiful exaraples
of this taste may be found.

COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. 185
called forth ; and Lucy, Countess of Bedford, was
forced to banish herself from her paradise of dainty
devices ! Moor Park was sold, and a proprietor,
no less prodigal and magnificent than herself, took
possession of her groves and fiowers : WUUam,
Earl of Pembroke, called it his for a brief space,
and it then passed into other hands.
Beyond these gorgeous propensities, there is
nothing strUdng in the life of the early friend of
the Queen of Bohemia — the generous lady Avho
was the theme of so many grateful poets. She
continued to correspond with her royal and unfor
tunate friend tiU her death, which happened in
1627. Of her brother it is said, that he was " the
hopefuUest gentleman of his times, more fit for
employment than a private life, and for a states
man than a soldier," and that it would require an
angel's pen to commemorate his virtues. He died
in 1614. The countess employed Nicholas Stone,
the most famous sculptor of his time, to erect fine
monuments to the memory of her father, mother,
and this brother, at a cost, then thought consider
able, of upwards of one thousand pounds.*
* Grainger.

FRANCES HOWARD,
«:-UCHE::8-S OF SOMERSET.

The history of the life of this unfortunate
beauty is a record of sin, shame, and wretched
ness. The daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, Lord
Chamberlain to King James, her bUth placed her
amongst the highest in the kingdom, and the
remarkable loveliness of her person rendered her
conspicuous at a very early age. According to the
custom of that day, a marriage was formed for
her, when she had scarcely passed the age of in
fancy, and the bridegroom selected was the Earl of
Essex, a mere child also.
Her young husband, immediately after the cere-
-mony which sealed their fates, proceeded to the
university, and from thence abroad, while his wife
returned to the care of her mother — a woman of
bad principles and tarnished reputation, and im
bued with all the vanities of that vainest and most
thoughtless of periods. All that education and

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f 1£ iX M © B i;.
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PROM .-^ K^Ri. PKJN'J'

duchess of somerset. 187
attention to ornamental accomplishments could do
to render Frances Howard attractive, was attended
to most scrupulously ; but aU the moral qualities
were allowed to lie dormant, or were suppressed,
if apparent, as likely to interfere with her success
in the world. It is, however, somewhat strange,
that a friend of her father's describes her as "of
the best nature, and sweetest disposition" of all
Lord Suffolk's children.
When the young Lady Essex appeared at Court,
she became a rage — a passion ; to admire and sigh
for her was expected of every gallant who had any
pretensions to fashion or taste. Her wit and
repartie, her grace, elegance, brUliancy, and exqui
site beauty, were the theme of every tongue. Her
mother was delighted at her success, and enjoyed
her triumphs ; and she herseff, intoxicated at the
homage paid her, lived in a paradise of vain-glory,
and exulted to see the world at her feet. Amongst
her many conquests, the most distinguished, was
Prince Henry himself, who, young as he was, and
prudent, and reserved, was said to be unable to
guard his hea;rt from the fascination of her smile.
In the midst of her idle exultation, encouraged
and excited by her mother — the person of aU others
who should have foreseen its danger, and guarded
her against it — ^the remembrance would sometimes
intmde on her, that she was a married woman,
and that the time must come when her husband
would return to claim her ; but she dismissed the

188 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
subject from her mind as quickly as she could,
and allowed no consideration to prevent her career
of gaiety and thoughtlessness. There were fcAv
examples at Court fitted to teach her prudence;
the Queen seemed to live only for amusement,
and rumours of Uer former imprudence when in
Scotland, tended but little to raise her character ;
add to which, the contempt she openly evinced for
her royal husband, and his unpleasing qualities,
gave young Frances but smaU reason to respect
the holy state into which her friends had betrayed
her, without teaching her its duties.
At this time she shared the admiration of the
Court with one whom accidental circumstances had
placed in almost the highest position in the king
dom. King James, careless of his wife, and cold
to his chUdren, had always devoted himseff to some
weak fancy for a favourite, for whom he sacrificed
all considera;tions, doting in the most childish
manner, and rendering himself ridiculous by his
indulgence and unmanly fondness. The reigning
favourite, at the time when Frances Howard shone
forth in all the splendour of her youthful charms,
was Robert Carr, a young man who had formerly
been in the king's service as a page, and whose
father had suffered much in the cause of Mary
Stuart. James had, however, lost sight of him,
tiU an event brought him back to his recollection,
and introduced him in a manner that made an
indelible impression.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 189
Carr, being equerry to Lord Hay, in the per
formance of his duty at- a tUting-match, was thrown
from his horse, and broke his leg, in the king's
presence. James visited him, from compassion, at
first, and became more and more interested as he
recovered ; and he found his disposition ingenuous,
and his mind simple and grateful : but, above all,
the King's admiration for personal appearance was
gratified ; for Carr was eminently gffted by nature,
although education or instruction had done nothing
for him.
This was just the circumstance to delight the
pedantic monarch, who took pride and pleasure
in forming and fashioning, on his own model, one
who promised to do him so much credit. Although
Carr exhibited Uttle genius for study, stUl he sub
mitted to be taught his Latin grammar by the
royal pedagogue; and, elated with his good fortune,
showed his gratitude by accommodating himself to
the caprices and foUies of James. He was rewarded
by the most unbounded indulgence ; riches and
honours poured in upon him; titles and dignities
were continuaUy increased, till the obscure Robert
Carr found himseff Viscount Rochester, and Knight
of the Garter, the envied of all, and the master of
his master.
His handsome exterior recommended him to the
fair ladies of the Court, and his graceful manners
and bold address captivated more than one ; in fact,
in the race of vanity, Robert Carr and Frances

190 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Howard kept side by side, and their goal was the
same — self-gratification. Both, perhaps, might have
been saved, if they had not been surrounded by
spirits ever ready to encourage error and excite to
wickedness : neither of them had a Mentor near,
and neither possessed natural good sense or moral
feeling sufficient to conduct them out of the fatal
path they were pursuing.
The Earl of SuffoUc and Lord Rochester were the
heads of two parties who looked to them for favour
and advancement ; for both possessed great power
Avith the sovereign, and James was afraid to declare
himself positively for either. His favourite, how
ever, might now be considered as prime minister
and chief secretary ; for aU business of importance
passed through his hands. But Carr was by no
means capable of such heavy duties, and was obliged
to depend upon the genius of another to carry him
through. He found that assistant in Sir Thomas
Overbury — a shrewd, accompUshed, and artful man,
possessed of great quickness and abUity, and able
to afford the most valuable counsel to his inexperi
enced friend. But he was unprincipled, arrogant,
and violent, and exacted much from those he
obliged. Although, by his presuming conduct, he
had offended both the King and the Queen, and had
been banished the Court, the necessity which Carr
felt for his advice and assistance recalled him ;
King James, nevertheless, held him in aversion,
and looked upon him Avith peculiar jealousy, and

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 191
the Queen never forgave his want of respect to her.
He seems a person universaUy clisliked; but yet
was courted by all parties, in consequence of the
power he possessed over his patron, the all-com
manding favourite. -
The offerings sacrificed to him were enormous,
and, like an Indian god, he devoured them all ; he
hesitated not to boast of his good fortune, and
plumed himself on the security of his position.
Entirely without morality, and alive only to his
own interests, Overbury had not hesitated, on being
made the confidant of Carr of a passion he had
conceived for the beautfful Lady Essex, to offer
him every aid which he could devise to obtain her
favour. Carr, though handsome and winning, had
no talent for pleading his own cause, and Frances
was accomplished herseff, and accustomed to homage
from poets and men of taste. It was necessary to
propitiate her by the graces of language, which her
lover did not possess ; and he, therefore, gratefully
and eagerly accepted his friend's offers to exert all
his literaiy -abUities to charm her mind. Overbury,
therefore, was employed to write letters, as if from
the favourite, setting forth his attachment in the
most glowing terms ; and so weU did these compo
sitions succeed, that the vain beauty imagined she
had made a conquest of one of the most refined,
•leamed, and elegant, as well as the handsomest, of
men. However much her vanity might have been

192 EMINENT englishwomen:
flattered by the admiration of Prince Henry,
Frances Howard was well aware that there was no
hope for her in his attachment, as he was destined
for a royal bride, negotiations being even then on
foot for the Infanta of Spain, although against the
prince's own desire. But Rochester's fortunes
were rising higher and higher, and her ambition saw
no end to his and her own advancement, if fate
had not placed a barrier in her path. She did not
conceal from her suitor the preference she felt for
him ; and so evident did her weakness become to
the prince, that he at once ceased his attentions to
her ; and, on one occasion, publicly expressed his
contempt of her conduct in a manner which she,
probably, never forgave. At a ball at Court, when
both were«dancing in a quadrille, the Lady Frances
having dropped her glove, either by accident or
design ; and a cavalier picking it up, presented it to
Prince Henry, imagining it would please him to
restore it to her ; but he rejected it with a scornful
air, remarking, in a contemptuous manner, that "he
desired not to have it, for it had been stretched by
another ;" at the same time glancing at Lord Ro
chester, to whom on aU occasions he manifested his
dislike without reserve.
That this public affront sunk deep into the hearts
of both the persons concerned it is not difficult to
imagine; but it is hard to pronounce whether
the fatal catastrophe which deprived the kingdom
of its heir took its rise in this act of Prince Henry's.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 193
Certain it is, that public opinion pointed at the
favourite with the finger of suspicion, and the mys
tery has never been cleared up.
Young Henry dead — and no mourning even per
mitted for his loss — Lord Rochester held a place
stUl higher in the state, and the fondness of King
James seemed daUy to increase for him. Lady
Essex felt certain that her cause was in good
hands, and recoUected with pleasure how active the
monarch had formerly been in assisting another
favourite. Lord Arran, to obtain the wife of another
man. AU thoughts of her husband now became odious
to her ; and while she was indulging in the intoxi
cation of her triumph, abandoning by degrees every
reserve which dignity or propriety prescribed, the
unfortunate nobleman, who, ignorant of aU but the
admiration of which she was the object, and proud
to call such a treasure his own, appeared to claim
his bride.
Suddenly awakened from her dream of independ
ence, the startled Frances recoiled from her posi
tion, and refused to fulfil 'the contract which her
parents had made, Essex, hoping that time might
be his friend, yet looked forward to a change in her
feeUngs, but found, to his distress, that he became
every day more and more distasteful to her, until
at length he despaired of ever conquering her
avowed aversion.
Of course, Carr and his friend used all f^eir
VOL. II. o

194 EMINENT EIvGLISHAA^OMEN.
endeavours to render her refusal to accept Essex
as a husband more firm and decided, and, at
length, the hatred Avhich was growing between the
husband and wife became mutual, and exhibited
itself with the utmost bitterness and violence.
To be legaUy separated Avas now the declared
( bject of both, and the laAV was had recourse to, to
enable them to break their ill-assorted union. This,
after some delays, was at length accomplished, and
Frances Howard was free.
It never seemed to have entered into the contem
plation of Overbury, that Robert Carr could really
be so much the slave of a vicious woman, as he
considered Lady Essex fo be, as to desire to take
advantage of her release in order to make her his
wife ; and he was thunderstruck when the truth
burst upon him.
It was no consideration of moraUty which occa
sioned his opposition to this project ; but it was
mortification to find that he had been trusted only
to a certain extent, and had been made a tool for
his own destruction, — for such he considered the
marriage would prove to him, — ^in reconciling the
two great factions of Suffolk and Rochester, by
whose enmity he had so long been gaining.
Enraged at the resolution he found in his patron
to carry his design into execution, he uttered the
most furious invectives against the lady, and
became completely off his guard with rage, denounc
ing every one who favoured the match, without

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 195
scrapie, accusing the highest personages of secret
crimes, which he threatened to make known, and,
finaUy, professed his determination to throw every
obstacle in the way of this disgraceful union.
But his intemperance led him too far, and he
had not, bad as he professed to think her, appre
ciated to the full the vindictive character of her
whom he had now made his bitter enemy. Carr im
prudently recounted to her all that Sir Thomas had
said to urge him against the marriage, and ven
geance once awakened in her soul, never afterwards
slept. From that moment, from a merely weak, vain,
frail woman, she became a very fury ; and having
once stept into Avickedness, she seemed to think
" Returning were as tedious as go o'er,"
and resolved that nothing should in future stand in
her way.
She offered, it is asserted, a thousand pounds to
one of her creatures to make a quarrel with Over
bury, and take his life in a duel ; but the difficulty
prevented its being agreed to ; and Carr, terrified
at her violence, suggested a better remedy, for the
present, by getting him sent on an embassy to
Russia, and so removed.
Probably this suggestion was improved by the
maUgnity of Frances ; and having first procured
from the King the appointment desired, Carr per
suaded Overbury to petition against it ; and pre-
o 2

196 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
tending to be stUl his friend, offered to use every
means with James to place his rejection in a proper
Ught, for Overbury dreaded, that, ff removed from
Court, aU his interest would be at an end.
Instead of acting towards his trusting friend as
he expected, Rochester represented to the King
that Sir Thomas's refusal arose from contempt and
arrogance, and he was accordingly committed to
the Tower.
Frances Howard was now triumphant ; he, whom
she considered as her bitterest and most dangerous
enemy, was in her power, and the weak and vicious
favourite had entirely given himself up to her
guidance, consenting to aU she proposed, and
offering no resistance to the most detestable pro
jects. By his means the keepers of the Tower
were gained over, the King, meanwhUe, remaining
neuter in the business, and thus sanctioning, if
not abetting, the crimes that were meditated ; and
a series of cruelties, too hideous to recount, con
signed the worthless, violent, but betrayed instru
ment of Rochester to the most fearful torments in
his prison.
It now remained for the guilty pair but to enjoy
the prosperity which shone upon them. Lord
Essex, too happy to be rid of a woman who had
for a time disgraced his name and tarnished the
restored honours, too lately lost on the scaffold of
his unfortunate father, wiUingly paid back the
dower he had received with her from Lord Suffolk,

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 197
though he Avas obUged to sell his estate of Bening-
ton, in Hertfordshire, to do so; and her future
conduct concerned him no longer.
King James now exhibited as much fondness
towards her as he showed to her lover, and his
favour procured her all the adulation she delighted
in. She became, more than ever, the idol of his
dissipated Court ; and the announcement of her
intended marriage with the newly-created Earl of
Somerset, raised to that rank in order that he
might be considered her equal, was received with
acclamation. Magnificent preparations were made
for the wedding, and the King undertook to give
away the beautiful bride.
Nothing could exceed the splendour of their
marriage, which vied with that of the fair and
innocent Princess Elizabeth in extravagance and
profusion. Masques and baUs succeeded each
other, and the King gave himself up, with his
unworthy favourites, to revelling and rejoicing.
As if Robert Carr had been a royal personage
and the object of the nation's love, like the iU-fated
young prince whom it had just lost, the Court of
WhitehaU and the City of London thought it neces
sary alike to do homage to the man "whom the
King delighted to honour ; " and, to the disgrace
of both, they vied with each other in offering him
compliments. A gorgeous feast was prepared for
the bridal party at Merchant-Taylors' Hall, to
which the whole Court was invited: and all

198 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
London sent out its gazers to behold the proces
sion, as it took its glittering way through the
thronged streets.
It was evening, and the light of innumerable
torches fiashed on the jewelled vests and waving
plumes of two lines of equestrians — one of ladies,
following the gay and haughty bride, the other
of lords, attending on the exulting bridegroom —
as they threaded the mazes of the streets from
the royal to the city palaces, where they were
received AAith such a welcome as should belong
only to royalty.
The fame of this triumphant progress, the echo
of its trumpets and merry music, reached the
gloomy cell where lay the half-expiring victim
of Frances Howard's vengeance. Sir Thomas
Overbury, in the bitterness of his heart, made
a last appeal to his former bosom friend, and
entreated him to obtain his enlargement. The
husband and wife consulted together, and their
decision was fatal; Overbury died in his dun
geon, and his body was hastUy buried to prevent
inquiry. They were now, as they conceived, safe
from every danger, for the witness of their dark
crimes could threaten and reveal no more.*
The gratitude or policy of Carr, at this crisis,
when the King was, as he himself expresses it,
"at a dead Uft, and at our wit's end for want
of money," induced him to make an offering to
• Some writers say Overbury died before the marriage.

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 199
his royal master of twenty-five thousand pounds,
which was graciously accepted.
The death of the Earl of Northampton — uncle to
Frances Howard, and her too compliant friend,
who was thought to be more acquainted Avith her
schemes, and to have forwarded them more than
was consistent with the character of an honest man,
— made a change in affairs ; and Lord Suffolk suc
ceeded him as treasurer, while the place of cham
berlain was filled up by the newly- created Earl of
Somerset ; much to the annoyance and vexation of
the Queen, whose suspicions had never been set at
rest respecting the death of her son, and Avho had
always regarded the favourite with an eye of envy
and dislike.
A. system of injustice and dishonesty was now
established, which placed the whole power of the
kingdom in the hands of the reconciled parties :
every department, high and low, was confided to
their friends, or sold, without hesitation, to the
highest bidder.
" Thus," says Birch, " Lord KnoUes Avas made
master of the Court of Wards without purchase,
because he had married a daughter of Lord Suffolk;
while Sir FuUc GreviUe, for the chanceUorship of
the Exchequer, gave four thousand pounds to Lady
Suffolk and Lady Somerset."
For some time the wind of prosperity was in
favour of this band of depredators ; but, by their

200 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
OAvn means, their downfal was preparing. SU
Ralph Winwood was made, by the King himself,
who appreciated hi^ services, Secretary of State ;
and he, a friend of the Queen, kept under and
insulted by the aspiring favourite, saw too clearly
the game that was playing, and used his utmost
efforts to remedy the evUs caused by the corrupt
management of affairs. Add to this, in the sale of
offices, that of cup-bearer had been obtained by
George ViUiers, one of the sons of Sir Edward
Villiers, of Brookesby, in LeicestersUire. This
young stranger was all that Carr had been in his
early youth, when his graces made such an impres
sion on the King ; and to beauty of person, he
added a polish of manner and a freshness of intel
lect, which could not faU to please the sovereign,
who, though deficient in such advantages himself,
was always ready to admire them in others.
The new cup-bearer was aware of the King's
approval, and, with a tact which his residence at
the Court of France had tended to teach, lost no
opportunity in increasing the favourable impression
he had made. James was so enraptured Avith his
new courtier, that he did not conceal the pleasure
he took in his society ; so much so, that the Earls
of Bedford, Pembroke and Hertford, before whom
he uttered his eulogiums, conceived at once a plan
of making the young man a rival to Somerset.
These noblemen consulted together, and took
the Queen into their counsels ; who, though - she

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 201
foresaw the danger of introducing a new enemy,
who would, probably, become as powerful as the
old, could not but acknowledge that the removal
of the present tyrant was Avorth a trial.
Soon after this, ViUiers was made a gentleman of
the Privy Chamber, Avith a yearly salaiy of one
thousand pounds ; and received the honour of
knighthood. From that moment the star of So
merset began to wane ; and a new and powerful
party sprung up, attached to the rising fortunes of
the new favourite, which threatened soon to destroy
his infiuence.
Care and anxiety, and the gnawings of con
science, had greatly changed the once joyous, care
less, and free tone of his character; and the King
had begun to weary of him, even before he beheld
his rival : the influence of Frances over her husband
he felt had greatly weaned him from himself, and
his assumption of authority disgusted him, while
certain state secrets, of which Somerset is supposed
to have been the possessor, rendered him an object
of fear.Somerset saw that his power was decaying ; he
was aware of his master's caprice, and trembled
for the consequences ; and taking advantage of
a moment's kindness, he threw himseff at the feet
of the King ; told him he was beset with enemies,
who would not fail to invent some crime which they
wouM lay to his charge ; and entreated him to
grant him a free pardon, signed and sealed, for all

202 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
offences which he might ever have committed.
James had his own reasons for consenting to this
bold request, and intended to have done so to the
fuU ; but the Queen became aware of the scheme,
and before the great seal was affixed to the docu
ment, prevented its taking effect.
In the meantime a fearful discovery was going
on : one after another witnesses appeared, proofs
were found of the part that Somerset and his
countess had played in the murder of Sir Thomas
Overbury, and no doubt could now remain of their
guilt. StiU the object of the investigation — secretly
carried on by his enemies — was not aware of the
gulf beneath his feet, and imagined lUrnself still
secure in the favour of his royal friend. The often-
quoted scene of duplicity acted at Royston, is suf>
ficient alone to show the character of James in its
true colours, and cover him with obloquy, ff almost
every action of his life had not already done so.
Somerset was with the King as usual ; and James
was in the act of embracing him with the appear
ance of the utmost tenderness, when the messenger
from the Lord Chief Justice came to arrest him.
He complained loudly of the indignity offered to the
King by his being arrested in the royal presence,
and claimed sanctuary beneath his wing; but
James exclaimed that he had no power to pre
vent it, "for," said he, " if Coke sends for me, I
must go."

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 203
The unhappy favourite departed; and as he
went, his unfeeling master uttered the following
sentence, memorable in the annals of treachery :
" The deil go with thee, for I Avill never see thy
face more !"
At once the King abandoned the whole trial
to the Lord Chief Justice, professing to be only
anxious that truth should be triumphant, and
concluding by imprecations on himself and his
posterity, as well as on aU concerned, if the trial
spared any one of the guUty persons.
There was no necessity for the King's exhorta
tion to induce the Lord Chief Justice to sift the
matter to the bottom ; and a hideous record of
crime and vice was unroUed to the eyes of the
public ; dealings with pretended sorcerers and
undoubted poisoners were brought to light, as
having been carried on by persons to whom
suspicion had never before attached; and many
a fair name was blighted by the disclosures in the
pocket-book of Forman, the conjurer, whom the
Countess of Somerset, and other Court ladies, were
in the habit of consulting. It is said, the Chief
Justice Coke saw, to his infinite confusion, the
name of his own wife in the first page of this cata
logue of foUy and wickedness.
Not only was Somerset cUarged with the murder
of his former friend, but Coke openly accused him
of that of the prince, and thus spread horror and
consternation throughout the kingdom. The Queen

204 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
caught the alarm; and it was soon confidently
asserted that a plot had been formed, not inferior
to the Gunpowder-treason, to poison her, her son.
Prince Charles, and the Prince Palatine, in order
that the Princess Elizabeth might be married to a
son of Lord Suffolk, the brother of Frances Howard.
The death of the unfortunate Arabella Stuart,
as if she had not had sufficient torture of mind to
kUl her, was also attributed to the agency of poison,
directed by the favourite's means.
The countess, meanwhUe, was taken into custody,
and she beheld, with terror, aU the proofs of her
guUt rising like spectres to surround her : her
letters were read in open Court, the waxen figures,
made to her order, were handed about in derision,
and the whole web of her Iffe of crime was un-
raveUed and exhibited.
Somerset would never confess himself guilty;
and it remains a mystery to this day how far he
was so : he insisted, that if he had been aUowed to
see the King, he could have proved his innocence ;
but this James stoutly refused to permit, and sen
tence was passed on .him. He is said, in his despair,
to have attempted his own life ; and his exclamation,
on being told that if he would confess the King
would grant his life, was worthy of a better man : —
" Life and fortune are not worth the acceptance
when honour is gone."
Frances Howard was less fUm, and forced to

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 205
appear before her judges — the proud, frail, bold,
and shameless beauty, was at length subdued; a
deadly paleness spread itself over her countenance,
her courage forsook her, and, covering her face, in
horror and agony, she confessed herself guUty, and
heard the fatal doom pronounced against her as
a murderess. Though the inferior actors in this horrible
tragedy suffered a merited punishment for their
crimes, the two chief actors were pardoned ; that is
to say, the countess received a remission of her
sentence ; but that which was sent to the eaii was
refused by him. He was, he said, an innocent and
injured man, and would accept of nothing less
than a reversal of the judgment.
Both were, however, discharged from the Tower,
and allowed to exist as long it was the King's
pleasure that they should do so ; but dreary and
dismal was their fate for the future !
Every spark of that passion which had led him to
crime and danger was extinguished in the breast of
Somerset ; and, for the future, he looked upon his
countess as a fiend who had betrayed and ruined
him. They retired to an obscure abode, where,
though Frances lived eight years after her disgrace,
the husband and wife, dwelling under the same
roof, never met again. At length, death put an
end to her shame and her despair : she expired,
after a lingering and painful Ulness, leaving one
daughter, who was brought up in happy ignorance

206 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
of the crimes of her parents ; and when, after she
was married, a pamphlet, which she accidentally
took up, revealed to her the horrible facts, she was
so unconscious as to be easily persuaded that aU
she had read was calumny. The shock, however,
of finding those names dear to her coupled with
such atrocities was so great, that she fainted on the
spot, as she closed the book, and did not recover
for some time after. Her own virtues made the
sad blot in her family honours grow fainter and
fainter, untU it was effaced by those of the good,
great, and unfortunate Lord Russell, avUo was her
grandson ; for she married WiUiam Russell, Earl,
and afterAvards Duke, of Bedford.
Their union was somewhat romantic ; they had
met and formed a mutual attachment, although the
Earl of Bedford had cautioned his son to avoid her,
saying frequently, " Marry who you wUI but a
daughter of Somerset." When he found the young
man had really faUen into the very danger he
dreaded, the father was furious and resolute to
oppose the match, although the passionate lover
assured him he Avould never make another his wife.
Charles I. himseff was obliged to interfere in
their favour, and, by his management, the earl's
consent was at length obtained ; and they were
married in 1637, much against his wish. Anne
Carr was at this time young and beautiful, and
full of kindness and aU the good feeling which was
denied to her parents. Her father-in-law was sud-

DUCHESS OF SOMERSET. 207
denly attacked with smaU-pox, that frightful scourge,
whose approach made children fly from the sick
beds of those who gave them being. This was the
case with the Earl of Bedford's family ; and he
would have been left to die of the terrible malady
untended, but for the heroic benevolence of his
son's wife : with patient kindness she watched over
him until he was out of all danger, and then she
felt that the poison had reached herself.
Her illness was long and fearful; and on her
recovery, every trace of her former beauty had dis
appeared : yet how much had she gained ! for
how could the father she had saved look on her
but with tender gratitude, or the husband, for
whom she had devoted herself, but with renewed
love ! There is no reason to imagine she was not
rewarded, even in this world.
She was adored by her unhappy father, who,
probably, considered her as the saving angel who
hovered near him to keep him from despair. When
the Earl of Bedford, in order to throw as much
impediment as possible in the way of his son's
marriage, insisted on her fortune being twelve
thousand pounds, the once rich and profuse
favourite was comparatively a beggar ; but to fur
nish the sum, he resolved to sell his house at
Chiswick, his plate, and jewels, trembling lest an
.opportunity so propititious to his child should be
lost, and her affections, Avhich were deeply engaged,
should be wounded.

208 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Such a trait goes far to render the supposition
probable that, but for his misfortune in meeting
with Frances Howard, Carr might not have been so
guilty as temptation made him.
He appeared both penitent and humble in his
fall ; and his charming daughter shines out amidst
the darkness of his destiny, Uke a bright guiding-
star, promising him forgiveness.
Anne Carr died in 1684, aged 63.

MARGARET ELIZABETH,
COUNTESS OF ESSEX.

This lady succeeded the unhappy Frances
Howard as the wife of the Earl of Essex, and
has much to complain of from her historian,
Arthur WUson, who does not scruple to take away
her character, calling her "a malicious piece of
vanity," and giving credit to all the reports which,
believed by her husband, were the cause of theu
separation, after a marriage of four years.
The person and character of Lord Essex are so
variously described by contemporary authors, that
it is difficult to form a correct judgment of AAiiat
he reaUy was. That he was unfortunate in both
his marriages is all that is positively known, and
even his conduct as a soldier has been called in
question — not as regarded his bravery, but his
genius for war. For warlike pm'suits he, however,
had a decided bias ; and, though he is sometimes
represented as peculiarly soft and agreeable to the
female sex, he does not seem to have managed
VOL. II. P

210 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
to make himself beloved; it is true, an opposite
account describes him as " peculiarly harsh and
disagreeable to women." So that he stands in the
paradoxical predicament of Catherine de Medicis —
" Souhaitez lui Enfer et Paradis."
Some time after he was separated from the
degraded Frances, he went to spend his Christmas
at a country house of the Earl of Hertford's^ where
the gloom and melancholy caused by his wrongs
were dissipated, and a dawn of happiness broke
on him, in the sight of a beautfful girl, "full of
harmless sweetness, affable, and gentle," and un
knowing in the ways of the world, or the vice and
falsehood of a C ourt.
This interesting creature —
" A phantom of delight
When first she beamed upon his sight,
A vision of enchantment sent
To be a moment's ornament,"
— promised to repay him for aU the caprices, and
pride, and insolence of the unprincipled beauty
whose affections he had once hoped to gain.
She was not insensible to the admiration he
evinced; and her father, Sn- WiUiam Paulet, of
Eddington, in WiUs, was not wanting in his con
sent ; so that, a few months after he had been first
introduced to her, he claimed her hand. She had
a sister who visited her at Essex House, to whom
a gentleman named UdaU, or Uvedale, paid his

COUNTESS OF ESSEX. 211
addresses ; but — from what cause is unknown — the
Earl became impressed Avith the idea that it was
his lady, and not her sister, AA'ho was the object of
this cavalier's attentions.
Whether Lord Essex was naturally suspicious,
and judged of the sex in general from the sad
specimen he had intimately known, it is difficult
to say ; and whether Arthur WUson himself, who
is so bitter against the countess, acted as a spy
upon her actions and thereby incm-red her dislike,
he could, perhaps, himself have told in his " Desi
derata Ciuiosa;" but ElizabetU on one occasion shut
herself in her chamber, and refused to quit it unless
Wilson, who resided in the house, was dismissed
from her husband's establishment. His testimony
must, under these circumstances, be a little sus
pected ; but he is very vehement in accusing her,
as he is in loading the character of Frances Howard
with, probably in that case, just abuse.
The earl appears to have been " perplexed in
the extreme," even if " not easily jealous," and
harshly refused to acknowledge the infant of which
the countess- was about to be confined, unless it
was born on a certain day, which he named — rather
a memorable one for plots and discoveries — the
5th of November. His own and his lady's honour,
therefore, rested on a chance ; but, as if some
guardian angel interposed to prove the injured
matron's innocence, a circumstance, sufficient to
have canonized the wife of a grim baron in
p 2

212 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Catholic days, occurred, which rebuked his suspi
cions. His son was born on the very day he had fixed
for the event. The judgment which seemed to
attend the chUd's birth, however, continued to
visit him, for it died in infancy, leaving the house
of Essex without an heir.
Ehzabeth, whether by her own desire or his, was
after this separated from her lord, who pursued
his career without ever after aUowing himself to be
allured by the attractions of grace or beauty. Eliza
beth Paulet became subsequently the wife of Mr.,
afterwards SU Thomas, Higgons, a worthy, excellent
man, who treated her with the most confiding
tenderness and consideration ; giving the most per
fect credence to her assertions of innocence, and
defending her in her life and after her death from
the malice of Uer enemies.
His belief Avas, that she had excited the jealousy
and envy of Essex's dependents by her resolution
to reform the abuses which she found in his esta
blishment; and also, that she owed the earl's ill
opinion of her to Sir Walter Devereux, his near
connexion, Avho had taken an inveterate antipathy
to the young and unoffending wife, whose only
crime was, she wished to do her duty, in the
midst of designing and interested persons, who
feared their evU practices would be discovered.
Sir Thomas Higgons, in the most manly and
affectionate manner, asserts her purity, and pro
claims her virtues ; he represents her as possessed

COUNTESS OF ESSEX. 213
of the most delicate sensibility, which, outraged
as it was, embittered many years Avhich might
otherwise have been happy.
When she was on her death-bed, she solemnly
asserted her innocence to her kind and amiable
husband. Grainger speaks of having seen a rare
pamphlet of a " Funeral Oration, spoken over the
grave of Elizabeth, Countess of Essex, by her hus
band, Mr. Thomas Higgons, at her interment in
the Cathedral Church of Winchester, September
16, 1656. Imprinted at London, 1656."
This is part of the epitaph inscribed on the
plain flat stone under which she lies interred : —
" Oratione funebri, a marito ipso, amore prisco laudatafuit."

CHRISTIAN,
COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE.

The daughter of Edward, Lord Bruce, of Kinloss,
has been introduced before, in the life of Arabella
Stuart, who was present at her marriage with her
cousin, " poor Wylkyn ;" and is named as a little
red-haired girl, by the letter -vrriter who relates the
event.* The marriage was one purely of convenience, and
the inclinations of the parties most concerned were
not consulted ; indeed, as the bride was only twelve
years old, her consent was of little consequence ;
and the young bridegroom, quite against his vatU,
was made to go through the ceremony.
When the virtues and worth of the wife thus
chosen for him came to be known, it would seem
natural that the Earl of Devonshire, as her husband
afterwards became, would have valued them as they
deserved, but there is little evidence to prove this
to be the case.f His extraordinary generosity and
* See Life of Arabella Stuart, in Vol. I.
t William, Earl of Pembroke, is said to have been attached to
her, and to have addressed to her the following verses, which

COUNTESS" OF DEVONSHIRE. 215
profusion impoverished his estate to such a degree,
that at his death, which happened when his son
was but ten years old, his property was deeply
show him to have been a poet little inferior to his celebrated
uncle, Sir Philip Sidney : —
" Dry those fair, those crystal eyes.
Which like growing fountains rise
To drown those banks ; grief's sullen brooks
Would better flow from furrowed looks ;
Thy lovely face was never meant
To be the seat of discontent.
" Then clear those wat'ry eyes again.
That else portend a lasting rain.
Lest the clouds that settle there
Prolong my winter all the year :
And thy example others make
In love with sorrow for thy sake."
A volume of his poems was also dedicated to her by Dr. Donne,
by whom they were published ; many were in her honour.
His verses were often set to music by the composers of his
time. There is a singular account of this Earl of Pembroke's death,
which would scarcely claim notice, but that Clarendon has con
descended to tell the story, to which Grainger, in his gossiping
history, also alludes. It was said to have been predicted by his
tutor, Sandford, and afterwards by Lady Elinor Davies, called the
mad prophetess, that he would not complete, or would die on, the
anniversary of his fifteenth birthday. Several of his friends were
met together on that day, and after dinner one of them proposed
the health of the Lord Steward Pembroke, alluding to the escape
he had had from the evil aspects which menaced him. Pie, him
self, supped with Katherine, Countess of Bedford, that evening,
and was in particularly good health and spirits, remarking, that
he would never trust a woman's prophecy again. A few hours
after, he was attacked wdth apoplexy, and died in the night.
Grainger says, that when an incision was made in his body, in
order to prepare for the process of embalming, the corpse lifted
up its hand.
There does not seem much foundation for either of these stories,
as the dates of his birth and death appear to disprove one, at least.

216 EMINENT ENGLIOTWOMEN.
involved, and his widow had a hard task to disen
tangle the difficulties thrown in her way.
It appears that WUliam, Earl of Devonshire, the
husband of Christian, who was so named from
being born on Christmas day, was a very accom
plished man, and so well versed in foreign lan
guages, tUat he was always applied to on occasions
of state, when iUustrious foreigners were to be
treated with. Thus he Avas, says Sir John Finnet,
appointed to conduct Count Swartzenberg, the
Emperor's ambassador, to his public audience of
James I. ; as also Signor Valersio, ambassador-
extraordinary from the repubUc of Venice, and
the ambassadors of the States of the United Pro
vinces; and he and his lady were commissioned
by Charles I., to be present at his marriage with
Henrietta Maria.
Hobbes, in his dedication of his history of Thu
cydides to his son, speaks of the earl in very high
terms ; but it is difiicult to take the opinion of a
person so necessarily biassed as he would naturally
be. If deserved, the praise is most honourable.
"By the experience of many years I had the
honour to serve him, I know this, there was not
any who more reaUy, and less for glory's sake,
favoured those that studied the liberal arts liberally,
than my Lord yom- father did ; nor in whose house
a man should less need the university than in his.
For his own study, it was bestowed, for the most

COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE. 217
part, in that kind of learning which best deserved
the pains and hours of great persons — history, and
civil knoioledge ; and directed, not to the ostentation
of his reading, but to the government of his life
and the public good ; for he so read, that the learn
ing he took in by study, by judgment he digested,
and converted into wisdom and ability to benefit
his country ; to which he also applied himself Avith
zeal, but such as took no fire either from faction or
ambition : and as he Avas a most able man for
soundness of advice and clear expression of himself,
in matters of difficulty and consequence, both in
public and private, so also Avas he one whom no
man was able either to draw or justle out of the
straight path of justice. Of which vUtue I knoAv
not Avhether he deserved more by his severity in
imposing it (as he did to his last breath,) on him
self, or by his magnanimity in not exacting it him
self from others. No man better discerned of men,
and therefore was he constant in his friendship,
because he regarded not the Fortune or Adherence,
but the men; vith whom also he conversed with
an openness of heart that had no other guard than
his own integrity, and that nil conscire. To his
equals he carried himself equally, and to his infe
riors famUiarly; but maintaining his respect fuUy
and only with the native splendour of his worth.
In sum, he was one in whom might plainly be per
ceived that honour and honesty are but the same
thing, in the different degrees of persons."

218 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
This nobleman, whatever might have been his
virtues, was thoughtless enough in aU matters con
cerning money ; and his heir's estate was burthened
with no less than thirty law-suits, which the lawyers
employed to extricate contrived to throw into the
worst possible state of perplexity.
Christian, in these difficult circumstances, ex
erted herseff in an almost incredible manner, in
order that her son might, on arriving at his ma
jority, find himself clear. So cleverly and acutely
did she manage, that King Charles was accustomed
to remark to her, " Madam, you have aU my judges
at your disposal."
An immense debt encumbered the property, to
get rid of which required infinite trouble and
patience ; but in these she was not wanting, and aU
means were tried by her, to accompUsh the laudable
end she had in view, untU at length she had the
happiness to see the success of her endeavours.
She was celebrated for the charm of her manners
and address, which "won aU hearts her way;" and
her judgment was equal to the sparkling wit which
always served her at wiU.
Her piety was exemplary, and her fkst cares
were directed to a due observance of aU religious
exercises : she divided her time in the most judicious
manner, so as not to allow one occupation to inter
fere with another; and she is said to have been
so much mistress of herseff in aU things, that it
appeared whatever she did, was that to which she

COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE. 219
had given aU her powers in order to excel. She
was a lover of poetry, and an encom'ager of genius
to a late period of her Ufe. Lord Lisle, in a letter
to Sir W. Temple, tells him that the old Countess of
Devonshire' s house was Mr. WaUer's chief theatre.
This was in 1667.
She was a great mistress of elegant language,
and all she said was enhanced by the manner which
accompanied her words ; for she was so gracious
and pleasing in her looks and expression, that every
one conceived they were particularly distinguished
by her attention ; thus, says her eulogist, Pomfret,
" In the entertainment of her friends, her con
versation was so tempered with courtship and
heartiness, her discourses so sweetened with the
deUcacies of expression, that such as did not well
know the expense of her time, would have thought
she had employed it all in address and dialogue.
In both which she exceeded most ladies, and yet
never affected the title of a wit ; carried no snares
in her tongue, nor counterfeited friendships ; and as
she was never known to speak evil of any, so
neither would she endure to hear of it from any
of others, reckoning it not only a vice against good
manners, but the greatest indecency also in the
entertainment of friends, and therefore always kept
herseff viithin the measures of civility and reUgion."
It must be acknowledged that both husband and
wife were fortunate in their eulogists, and seldom

220 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
has any person found a better than the Countess
Christian, who must have been, according to this
picture, which nothing known of her contradicts, a
most estimable creature ; realizing lago's descrip
tion of a perfect woman, without the " lame and
impotent conclusion."
It is worth while to follow the enthusiastic Pom
fret, in his continuation of a theme of which he
never seems to tire ; the character, such as he draws
it, is a model to be imitated.
" Her gestures corresponded to her speech, being
of a free, native, genuine, and graceful behaviour;
as far from affected and extraordinary motions, as
they from discretion. These admirable qualities
drew to Uer house all the best company, towards
whom she had so easy and such an obliging ad
dress, without the least alloy of levity or disdain,
that every one departed with the highest satisfac
tion, she ever distributing her respects according to
the quality and merit of each; steering the same
steady course in the country also, between which
and the town she commonly divided the year.
" Her country seats were many and noble; some
of which, when her son came of age, she delivered
to him; viz. her great houses in Derbyshire, aU
ready furnisUed ; she herself living in tUat of
Leicester Abbey, near to which she had purchased
a considerable estate, untU the rebelUon broke out."
Hobbes, the tutor of his father, Avas retained by

COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE. 221
the countess as her son's instructor ; and when his
age Avas sufficiently advanced, she committed him
to his care to make the tour of Europe, as was the
usual custom of the period; They remained some
time in Paris, as the head-quarters of refinement,
and the young earl did not return till he was of age.
She then chose for him a Avife, in Elizabeth,
second daughter of WUUam CecU, Earl of Salisbury.
It appears that this cherished son of his careful
mother, was remarkably handsome, and strikingly
like his father. Hobbes, writing to his pupU, prays
" that it would please God to give him vUtues suit
able to the fair dweUing he had prepared for them."
Amongst the many excellences of this nobleman,
his devoted loyalty is not the least ; money and
personal aid he cheerfully gave the King ; and his
brother, Charles, was equaUy fervent in tUe cause.
The earl retired from England until peaceful tUnes
should return ; but he was included in the list of
delinquents by tUe Parliament, and his great estates
sequestered. His mother's continued and zealous care, how
ever, procured an order, in 1645, for his return;
and by her earnest solicitations, he was induced to
make such concessions as saved his property.
Charles Cavendish, the second son of the coun
tess, appears to have been quite a hero of romance ;
brave, bold, and devoted, though somewhat rash
and impetuous ; ever ready to head any daring
adventure in favour of the King's party, and the

222 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
first to ofter to lead a forlorn-hope. Several of the
early successes on the royal side are attributable to
his courage and promptitude. He is recorded to
have " beat the enemy from Grantham, and gained
a complete victory near Stamford, and reduced
several of then- garrison towns, by the assistance
of Colonel Welby and other brave officers. After
many glorious actions, being Lieutenant-General
of the horse to his kinsman, the Marquis of New
castle,* he had the honour to receive the Queen in
her march to Newark, who immediately took notice
that she saw him last in Holland, and was very glad
now to meet him again in England. The Countess
of Derby, sitting at the end of the Queen's coach,
entertained her Majesty with great commendations
of the general, and when the Queen was to give the
word to Major Tuke, she gave that of Cavendish!'
" This gallant young officer, " says Pomfret,
" was murdered in cold blood, after quarter given, by
Colonel Bury, who made himself dear to Cromwell
by this and some other acts of cruelty." CromweU
himself was in this action, and prided himseff
greatly on his success in it. He thus gives an
account to the Association ' sitting at Cambridge,
in a letter, dated July 21, 1643 : —
" Gentlemen, — It hath pleased the Lord to give
your servant and soldiers a notable victory now
* Afterwards Duke, This is the literary nobleman, as famous
for his knowledge in horsemanship as for his poetical Duchess.
See her Life in this work.

COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE. 223
at Gainsborough. In the last reserve, unbroken,
stood General Cavendish, who one whUe faced me,
another whUe faced four of the Lincoln troops,
which was aU of ours that stood upon the place, the
rest being engaged in the chase ; at last General
Cavendish charged the Lincolners and routed them.
" Immediately I fell upon his rear with my
three troops, which did so astonish him, that he
gave over the chase, and would fain have delivered
himself from me, but I, pressing on, forced him
down a hill, having a good execution of them, and
below the hUl drove the general and some of his
soldiers into a quagmire, where my captain-lieutenant
slew him with a thrust under his short ribs ;* the rest
of the body were wholly routed, not one man stay
ing on the place."
The lamentations at Newark over his body, when
brought there to be interred, were heart-rending ;
the whole town flocking round it with tears, and
refusing to allow it to be buried for several days,
that they might stiU liave the mournful pleasure of
beholding one they so much admired and loved.
The sorrow of his mother was very deep, and
her attachment to her gaUant son was evinced
when, thirty years afterwards, she gave orders, in
her last wiU, that his corpse should be taken up
and placed in a hearse, to attend hers to Derby,
* The friends of Cromwell insist that he died in fair fight, which
it is reasonable to suppose was really the case.

224 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
where she desired that they should be reunited in
the tomb. A renewal of the regrets of the towns
people of Newark took place, Avhen this melancholy
ceremony was performed; and as the body of
Charles Cavendish passed through Leicester, aU tUe
magistrates and gentry of the country joined a
procession in honour of his memory.
Of all the afflictions with which Christian was
visited, the loss of this beloved son seems most to
have taken hold on her mind : she had had already
to deplore the death of her only daughter, the
beautiful and amiable Lady Rich, whose fine quaU
ties are celebrated by the poets, Avits, and orators
of her time ; and this grief, joined to that she ex
perienced for the sufferings of the royal fugitives,
greatly impressed her future life vith sadness.
When the opposing army had obtained posses
sion of the King's person, and were carrying that
ill-fated monarch from place to place, they aUowed
him to rest a night at Latimers — a seat of the family
in Buckinghamshire, where the Countess Christian
happened then to be, with her son, the Earl of
Devonshire, and an interesting interview took place
between them, relative to the King's affairs.
After Worcester fight in 1651, she received and
took care of many of the King's faithful and unpro
tected servants, supporting and relieving them till
the restoration of their master. The expenses she
thus incurred were great, and it required much
management to meet them, and repair the conse-

COUNTESS OP DEVONSHIRE. 225
quences of her liberality. This she Avas enabled
to do, by accepting the hospitaUty of Uer brother, the
Earl of Elgin, in whose house she lived in retire
ment for three years, at AmpthiU; after which,
finding that her retrenchment had entirely answered
the end she had proposed, she purchased a seat at
Roehampton, in Surrey, and there recommenced
her former mode of Uving ; extending her benevo
lence and usefulness as before.
In this retreat she gathered round her aU who
were friendly to the royal cause, and lost no oppor
tunity of exciting and urging them to exertion, in
order to bring about the King's retm-n. She cor
responded with the Duke of Hamilton, the Earls of
HoUand and Norwich, and others, in cypher; and
her persuasions went far to determine them to be
dUigent in their endeavom's. This could not,
however, continue long without her becoming sus
pected ; and on one occasion her loyalty had nearly
cost her dear ; for a troop of horse was about to be
sent down to fetch her from AmpthiU ; but she
had a friend amongst the enemy, her goldsmith, who
contrived by bribery to turn away the storm, and
she escaped free.
With General Monck she carried on a secret
correspondence, and obtained from him a private
signal, by which she was to understand his real
intentions respecting the King's restoration.
At length she had the satisfaction of seeing the
accomplishment of her vsishes, and Charles the
VOL. II. Q

226 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Second seated on the throne of England. As she
required nothing -from the royal gratitude but
words, it was not found so difficult to repay her as
many other partisans of the famUy ; and as far as
respect and kindness and liberal acknowledgment
went, she had no cause to complain.
The King, Queen, Queen-mother, and the rest
of the royal famUy, would frequently honour her
with unceremonious visits ; caUing unexpectedly on
her, and remaining to dine; an attention which
gratified her extremely, and was easily paid. Her
attendance at Com't was dispensed witU on great
occasions, in consideration of her age, and she was
privately admitted to the Queen, who received her
always with the strongest marks of consideration and
affection. If courtesy had been all that those re
quired of Charles, who had ruined themselves in his
cause, none would have had reason to complain; but
his extravagance and exhausted coffers rendered
more substantial marks of his gratitude impossible.
The countess received all the reward she sought,
in beholding the old order of things restored ;* and,
during the remainder of her life, she saw only the
bright side of the prospect, and descended to the
grave full of years and honours — a pattern of old
English hospitality, charity, and benevolence, com
bined with care, prudence, and management, rarely
* Evelyn speaks of her in his Diary : " 4 Aug. 1662. Came to
see me the old Countess of Devonshire, with that excellent and
worthy person, my lord, her son, from Rowhampton."

COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE. 227
to be met with in one accustomed to the magnifi
cence which she had known all her life ; and who
had begun her career at so very early an age.
She died in 1674, on the 16th of January; and
her son, the Earl of Devonshire, buried her with
great pomp, omitting no ceremony which, in the
eyes of the world, could add honour to her memory,
though the greatest was the character she left be
hind ; a worthy example to her numerous descend
ants, and a proud recoUection to her immediate
relatives.

u 2

ANNE CLIFFORD,
COUNTESS OF DORSET, PEMBROKE, AND
MONTGOMERY.

Another Bess of Hardwick, in her passion and
talent for building, and in her exact economy, in
her spirit, and in some circumstances of her Iffe,
but infinitely her superior in mind and disposition,
as well as learning and accomplishments, Anne
Clifford was one of the most remarkable women of
her time.
She was the daughter and heir of George, Earl of
Cumberland, and was born January 30th, 1589.
The father was distinguished for his naval expe
ditions, of which he made no less than eleven :
" the history of his singular life must be sought,"
says an historian, " sometunes in the journal of the
sailor, and sometimes in the tablets of the courtier.
His voyages were chiefly to the West Indies, and
were generally undertaken at his own charge;

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ANNE CLIFFORD. 229
consequently his fortune suffered considerably by
these great expenses."
He was the commander of the Elizabeth Bona-
venture, in the fleet which defeated the Spanish
Armada of 1588.
In EUzabeth's Com't he held a high rank, and
was one of her chief heroes : with a due sense
of his chivalrous merits, she appointed him her
" champion" at all tUts and tournaments, where
his gaUant demeanour, skiU, and courage made him
the object of universal admiration. Once, at an
audience of the Queen, g,fter his return from one
of his voyages, his royal and coquettish mistress
dropped her glove, which he presenting on his
knees, she graciously desired him to keep for her
sake : he immediately caused it to be encrusted
with jewels, and ever after wore it, at all public
ceremonies, in his hat. This was quite an action
to secure her favour, which he seemed to have
gained by his gallantry on all occasions.
He appeared always in splendid armour to do
honour to his royal mistress, who delighted in
gorgeous shows, and loved to see her servants
bravely accoutred : the fine suit in which he so
often blazed at those entertainments, where the
" Queen of all hearts" presided, is said to be still
preserved in Appleby Castle, in Cumberland, of
which, with many others, he was lord.
This castle, one of the finest in the North, is a
magnificent remain of antique grandeur. It stands

230 ¦ EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
on a bold projection of rock crowning the steep,
whose rugged sides form a precipice which, at its
base, is washed by the River Eden, its natural
moat. The Earl of Cumberland, apparently mortified
that he had no son to whom he could leave his
name and estates, was anxious that his brother
should succeed him; and, by an act of manifest
injustice, occasioned his daughter to be long involved
in law-suits with her uncle and his heirs. Anne
was but ten years of age when he died, and her
education was superintended at first by her mother,
an excellent woman, and afterwards by her aunt,
the Countess of Warvick.
The character of the Earl of Cumberland has
been thus drawn : —
" He was a great, but an unamiable man; his
story admirably illustrates the difference between
greatness and contentment, between fame and
virtue. If we trace him in the public history bf the
times, we see nothing but the accompUshed courtier,
the skUful navigator, the intrepid commander, the
disinterested patriot. If we follow htm into his
famUy, we are instantly strack with the indifferent
and unfaithful husband, the negligent and thought
less parent. If we enter his muniment room, we
are surrounded by memorials of prodigality and
debts, mortgages and sales, inquietude and ap
proaching want. By the grant of the Norton's
estates, he set out with a larger property than any

ANNE CLIFFORD. 231
of his ancestors : in little more than twenty years
he made it one of the least. Fortunately for his
family, a constitution originally vigorous gave way,
at forty-seven, to hardships, anxiety, wounds, and,
probably, dissipation. His separation from his
virtuous lady was occasioned by a court intrigue,
and his conduct in general was such as to disgust
and alienate Uer affections. She was herself a
woman of extraordinary merit; but, perhaps, too
high-spirited for such a husband."
Spenser, captivated with his popular qualities,
thus cites him in one of his sonnets : —
" Redoubted lord ! in whose courageous mind
The flower of chivalry, now blooming fair.
Doth proraise fruit worthy the noble kind.
Which of their praises have left you the heir."
His ill-treated wife was Margaret, tUe youngest
daughter of Francis, second Earl of Bedford, by his
first lady, Margaret, the daughter of Sir John
St. Jolm of Bletsoe, who died whUe she was an
infant. She was contracted to George Clifford at five
years of age, and married to Uim a few years after
wards, in 1577. Her daugUter's affection for her
knew no bounds ; and her admiration and venera
tion for the memory of " that blessed saint," as she
calls her, was never diminished. These sentiments
it does not appear were felt by the father of Anne ;
who, though gaUant, and charming, and amiable,
and chivalrous to all besides, strangely neglected

232 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Ms fainUy, and, at length, aUowed himself to be
betrayed into an open violation of his duties as a
husband, to her grief and regret : thus placing a
bar between them which was never removed. She
suffered, however, with exemplary patience, all the
indignities and slights heaped upon her ; and when
her repenting husband, in lus last moments, desired
to see her and her chUd, with true christian meek
ness she forgave and comforted him.
It has been said of her, by a contemporary, that
" she was a woman fit to pleasure the communion
of saints."
The poet, Daniel, inscribed the following sonnet
to the mother of Anne Clifford, whose patient equa
nimity and unbending spuit of resolution, " strong
as beech wood to the blast," he so much admires.
Certainly, however worthy the theme, it must be
confessed that the poets of that time contrive to
render any subject prosaic : —
" Altho' the meaner sort — whose thoughts are placed
As in another region, far below
The sphere of greatness — cannot rightly taste
What touch it hath, nor right her passions know :
Yet have I here adventured to bestow
Words upon grief, as my griefs comprehend.
And made this great afflicted lady show
Out of my feelings, what she raight have penn'd :
And here the same I bring forth, to attend
Upon thy reverend name, to live with thee.
Most virtuous lady! that vouchsaf'st to lend
Ear to my notes, and comfort unto me.
That one day may thine own fair virtues spread
Being secretary now but to the dead."

ANNE CLIFFORD. 233
This sonnet preceded Daniel's " Epistle from Oc
tavia to Marc Antony" — his best composition, which
he dedicated to Margaret, Countess of Cumberland.
Amongst the aspirants to the hand of the young
heiress, the great favourite, Robert Carr, was said
to be one : but it is unlikely that her prudent
mother listened for a moment to his proposals :
although she was little more fortunate in the hus
band she did select for her daughter.
Lady Anne, in her memoirs, which give some
insight into her character, thus describes herself at
the period when she was at Court, and the object of
admiration to all the gallants of the day.
" I was very happy in my first constitution, both
in mind and body, both for internal and external
endowments : for never was there child more equaUy
resembling both father and mother than myself.
The colour of mine eyes was black, like my father's,
and the form and aspect of them was quick and
lively, like my mother's ; the hair of my head was
brown and very thick, and so long that it reached
to the caff of my legs, when I stood upright ; toith
a peak of hair on my forehead, and a dimple in my
chin, Uke my father ; full cheeks and round face, like
my motUer ; and an exquisite shape of body, resem
bling my father ; but now time and age have long
since ended all those beauties, which are to be com
pared to the grass of the field : for now, when I have
caused these memorables of myself to be written,

234 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
I have passed the sixty-third year of my age. And,
though I say it, the perfections of my mind were
much above those of my body.
" I had a strong and copious memory, a sound
judgment, and a discerning spirit, and so much of
a strong imagination in me, as that many times,
even my dreams and apprehensions beforehand
proved to be true : so that old Mr. John Denham, a
great astronomer, that some time lived in my father's
house, would often say that I had much in me in
nature to show that the sweet infiuences of the
Pleiads and the bands of Orion, mentioned in Job,
were powerful at my nativity. And my mother
did, with singular care and tenderness of affection,
educate me, as her most dear and only daughter,
seasoning my youth with the grounds of true
religion and moral vUtue, and all other qualities
befitting my birth ; in which she employed, as her
chief agent, Mr. Samuel Daniel — that religious and
honest poet, who composed ' The CivU Wars of
England between the two Houses of York and
Lancaster,' and also writ many other treatises, both
in prose and verse.
" I was not admitted to learn any language, be
cause my father would not permit it ; but, for all
other knowledge fit for my sex, none was bred up
to greater perfection than myself. Thus, from my
childhood, by the bringing up of my dear mother,
I did, as it were, even suck the mUk of goodness,
which made my mind grow strong against the

ANNE CLIFFORD. 235
storms of fortune ; which few avoid that are greatly
born and matched, if they attain to any number of
years, unless they betake themselves to a private
retiredness, which I could never do, tiU after the
death of both my husbands."
She thus describes her mother and their parting,
which occurred soon after her marriage with the
Earl of Dorset; —
" Upon the 2nd of AprU, 1616, I took my last
leave of my dear and blessed mother, with many
tears and much sorrow to us both, some quarter of
a mile from Brougham Castle, in the open air ;*
after which time she and I never saw one another :
for then I went away out of Westmoreland to
London, and so to Knowle House, in Kent.
" In the month foUowing, that blessed mother
of mine died, to my unspeakable grief, myself at
the time being in Kent ; but, a little after, I went
dovra into Westmoreland, and was present at her
burial, in Appleby church, the I Ith of July foUow
ing ; the remembrance of whose sweet and excellent
virtues hath been the chief companion of my
thoughts ever since she departed out of this world.
(Rev. xiv. 13.) She died in the same chamber in
Brougham Castle wherein her husband was born,
being about fifty-six years old.
" She was a woman who had more truth, justice,
* The verses of the poet, Rogers, on this subject are well
known.

236 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
and constancy in her heart, than can be expressed
by words. She was full of noble, kind, and sweet
affections towards her kindred and friends, and of
a grateful mind to those that in anyvdse deserved ,
it from her ; and of a most compassionate nature
to any whom she knew to be in misery and dis
tress, which caused a great divine that knew her
very weU, to say of her, that she was like the
seraphim, in her ardent love and affection towards
the most Divine Trinity, towards aU goodness and
good folks, and that she had the virtue of com
passion in her in more perfection than any one he
ever knew ; and, therefore, he thought it much
more happiness to be descended from so blessed a
woman, than to be born heir to a great kingdom.
* * * And, indeed, the numerousness of my
posterity, and all otUer benefits whatever, I do
beUeve, were bestowed upon me for the heavenly
goodness of my dear mother."
Anne Clifford was, when in her fourteenth year,
as has been mentioned, much with her aunt. Lady
Warwick : she thus relates the Queen's death :
" In 1602-3, at Christmas, I used to go much
to Court, and sometimes did lie in my aunt War
wick's chamber, on a pallet, to whom I was much
bound, for her continual love and care of me ;
insomuch, that, if Queen Elizabeth had lived, she
intended to have preferred me to be of the privy
chamber ; for at that time, there were as much

ANNE CLIFFORD. 237
hope and expectation of me, both for my person and
fortunes, as of any other young lady whatsoever.
" A Uttle after the Queen removed to Richmond,
she began to grow sickly : my lady used to go
often thither, and carry me with her in the coach ;
and, using to wait in the coffer-chamber many
times, came home very late. About the twenty-
first or second of March, my aunt of Warwick sent
my mother word, about nine at night, she lying
then at Clerkenwell, that she should remove to
Austin Friars, her house, for fear of some commo
tion, though God in his mercy did deliver us from it.
Upon the 24th, Mr. Hoknell, my aunt of Warwick's
man, brought us word from his lady, that the Queen
died about two or three in the morning : the mes
sage was delivered to my mother and me, in the
same chamber where afterwards I was married.
About ten o'clock King James was proclaimed
in Cheapside, AAith great joy and triumph ; which
triumph I went to see and hear.
" The peaceable coming in of the King Avas unex
pected of aU sorts of people. A little after this.
Queen Elizabeth's corse came by night, in a barge-
from Richmond to WhitehaU, my mother and a
great company of ladies attending it, where it con
tinued a good while in the drawing-chamber, and
was watched aU night by several lords and ladies ;
my mother sitting up Avith it two or three nights,
but my lady would not give me leave to watch, by
reason I was held too young.

238 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" At this time we used to go very much to White
haU, and walked much in the garden, which was
much frequented with lords and ladies, being aU
fuU of several hopes, every man expecting moun
tains and finding mole-hiUsj excepting Sir Robert
CecU and the house of the Howards, who hated
my mother, and did not much love my aunt of
Warwick. " When the corse of Queen Elizabeth had con
tinued at WhitehaU as long as the CouncU had
thought fit, it was carried from thence with great
solemnity to Westminster, the lords and ladies
going on foot to attend it : my mother and my
aunt of Warwick being mourners ; but I was not
aUowed to be one, because I was not high enough,
which did much trouble me then. But yet I
stood in the church at Westminster to see the so
lemnity performed."
Lady Warwick survived the Queen, her mistress,
but a twelvemonth. She was married in 1565,
to the Earl of WarAvick, brother of Robert, Earl of
Leicester ; and, as a singular honour, Queen Eliza
beth and her guests, the Margrave and Margravine
of Baden, were present at the nuptials of this, her
favourite maid of honour. Her beauty, talents, and
accomplishments, were the theme of Court praise ;
in particular, an Italian poet, then in England,
Pietro Bizzarri,* has celebrated her, in a Latin poem
• Birch's Memoirs.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 239
of considerable merit. She retained to the last the
regard of her royal mistress, and never exercised
her power but to do good.
At Chenies,* where she is buried, she founded
alms-houses for widows of decayed gentlemen ; and
has thus perpetuated her memory in the noblest
manner by her charitable deeds.
The Countess of WarAvick was that kind friend
of Robert, Earl of Essex, who endeavoured to stand
between him and the anger of his royal mistress.
She advised him, privately, to take an out-
lodging at Greenwich, and some time, when the
Queen went abroad, in good humour, of which happy
event the countess would give hyn notice, he should
come forth and humble himself before her majesty,
in the field. The counsel sunk deep into his heart,
but was turned away by Cuffe, his secretary, who
exasperated matters, f
The Countess of Pembroke speaks of her many
" crosses and contradictions" in both her mar
riages. With her first lord, Dorset, from re
sisting, his prodigal extravagance, and from the
contentious efforts which he made to induce her to
sell her rights in the contested lands of her in
heritance, a measure to which she would never con
sent. And, vsith her second husband, because she
would neither compel her youngest daughter. Lady
IsabeUa Sackville, to sacrifice herself in marriage
to one of his younger sons, nor relinquish her
* See Portraits at Woburn. f See Birch's Memoirs.

240 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
interest in five thousand pounds which she held as
part of her marriage portion.
So unhappy was she with both her tyrants, that
she observes : —
" In both their life-times the marble pillars of
Knowle, in Kent, and Wilton, in Wiltshire, were
to me often but the gay arbours of anguish. Inso
much, that, as a wise man, the Earl of Bedford,
that knew the insides of my fortune, would often
say, that I lived in both these my lords' great
families, as the River Rhone runs through the Lake
of Geneva, without mingling any part of its streams
with that lake ; for I gave myself whoUy to retUed-
ness, as much as I could in both, and made good
books and virtuous thoughts my companions, which
can never discern affliction, nor be daunted when it
unjustly happens ; and, by a happy genius, I over
came aU tUose troubles, the (foriner) prayers of my
blessed mother helping me therein,"
The Earl of Bedford always showed himself her
friend in all the Ul-usage she experienced ; and,
through his means, the Earl of Pembroke's ra
pacity was more than once frustrated : on one
occasion, in 1638, when recovering from a dan
gerous fit of Ulness, she writes to Lord Bedford,
entreating him to interpose with her lord, for per
mission to come up to London, though but for ten
days, or a fortnight at most, to attend to her affairs.
" For I dare not," she exclaims, " venture it with-

*• ANNE CLIFFORD, 241
out his leave, lest he should take that occasion to turn
me out of this house as he did out of WhitehaU,
and then I shall not know where to put my
head."* In 1608, or 1609, Anne Clifford became the wffe
of Richard SackvUle,t Lord Buckhurst, son and
heir of Thomas, Earl of Dorset, who succeeded to
his father's title two days after his marriage, in
consequence of his sudden death, which is thus
mentioned by that quaint chronicler, WUson : —
" The Earl of Dorset, Lord High Treasurer,
died suddenly as he sat at the council-table ; which
gave occasion to some persons disaffected to him,
(as what eminent officer that hath the manag
ing of moneys can please aU ?) to speak many
things to his dishonour. But they considered not,
that besides the black worm and the white (day
and night, as the riddle is,) that are gnawing
constantly at the root of this tree of life, there
are many insensible diseases, as apoplexies, whose
vapours suddenly extinguish the animal spirits.
* * * He that judges Ul of such an act of Pro
vidence may have the same hand, at the same
time, writing within the palace waUs of his own
body, the same period to his Iffe's earthly empire."
WhUe speaking with animation, he rose from
his seat, and, taking some papers from his bosom,
exclaimed with vehemence : — " I have that here
* From WifBn's Houseof RusseU. f See Birch's Memoirs,
VOL, 11. R

242 EMINENT- ENGLISHWOMEN, *
which will strike j^ou dead." At the same instant
he tottered, feU, and expired..
It is related of this Earl of Dorset,* that in his
early Iffe he was a great spendthrift, having suc
ceeded to an immense fortune, which he thought
inexhaustible ; but, in a few years, the consequences
of his prodigality showed themselves, and he dis
covered that he was deeply in debt. His refor
mation was effected in the foUowing manner : —
Having occasion to borrow money of a ricU citizen,
he was kept waiting by him in an anti-chamber
for a considerable time, and the indignity to which
his extravagance had exposed him made so strong
an impression on his mind, that he inwardly re
solved his own imprudence should never again
expose him to such mortification. He commenced
from that time a system of economy, in which he
so weU succeeded, that he was thought a fitting
person to replace Lord Burleigh in the office of
Lord High Treasurer. As a literary and poUtical
character, he may be ranked amongst the first men
of his age. His son, the husband of Anne CUf-
ford, was, like himseff, a man of letters and
accomplishments, and an enlightened judge and
munificent patron of literary merit. His hospi
tality and bounty were extreme, bordering, as was
the case with most of the noblemen of the day, on
extravagance. * His portrait, fuU length, is at Charlton, in Wilts ; the seat.
of Lord Suffolk, forrauig one of the historical series in that splen
did gaUery. — See Grainger.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 243
At masques and revels he was always conspicuous,
but particularly so in tUts and tournaments, which
gained him the notice and friendship of Prince
Henry ; but whether in his domestic character he
was amiable, appears doubtful, various opinions on
the subject having been given. His widow is said
to have recorded the principal events of his life.
His death occurred when he was only thirty-five,
in 1624, and he left his widow large possessions.
His brother, who succeeded him, was that
Edward SackviUe who was one of the chief com
manders of the forces sent to the assistance of
the King of Bohemia, in 1620, and who re
placed Lord Herbert the next year at the Court
of France. Edward is, unfortunately, remarkable
as having kUled his friend. Lord Bruce, in a duel,
although, on one occasion, he placed his own life
in jeopardy to defend that very man ; namely, on
occasion of a quarrel which Osborn relates as
taking place at Croydon races, when PhUip Her
bert, afterwards the husband of Anne Clifford, was
"¦switched" by Ramsey, tbe King's favourite, and
tUe EngUsh and Scotch having, in consequence,
nearly come to a battle. Edward SackviUe sided
with the latter party purely out of regard to Lord
Bruce, which so enraged his countrymen, that they
vowed to sacrifice him on the spot ; and would have
done so, but that the affair was quelled in time.*
* See the Life of Mary, Countess of Pembroke, in the first Vol.
r2

244 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Their cause of quarrel appears a mystery, unless
it is to that " The Guardian" aUudes, in one of the
papers on false honour; the whole particulars of
the duel are recounted elsewhere in the same work.
The first aUusion is as follows : —
" Timogenes was a lively instance of one actuated
by false honour ; he would have scorned to have
betrayed a secret that was entrusted to him, though
the fate of his country depended on the discovery
of it. Timogenes took away the life of a young
feUow in a duel, for Uaving spoken iU of Belinda,
a lady whom he had himself seduced in her youth,
and betrayed to want and ignominy,"
Although Edward SackviUe thought it necessary,
after the fatal termination of their quarrel, to pub
lish a letter to the world exculpatory of his offence ;
he does not name the reason of their meeting.*

* The letters coUected and pubUshed in " The Guardian," on this
subject, are as follow : —
" OF HONOUR. — DUELLING,
" 'AM, M. Sackville,
" ' I that ara in France hear how much you attribute
to yourself in this time, that I have given the world leave to
wring your praises. . , ,
" ' If you call to memory, whereas I gave you my hand last;
I told you I reserved the heart for a truer reconciliation. Now
be that noble gentleman my love once spoke you, and come and
do him right that c*" recite the trials you owe y' birth and country,
were I not confident y' honour gives you the same courage to do
me right that it did to do me wrong. Be master of your own
weapons and time, the place wheresoever I wUl wait on you. By

ANNE CLIFFORD. 245
In 1628, the Countess of Dorset laid claim to
the Barony of Clifford, disputed, in consequence of
doing this you shaU shorten revenge and clear the idle opinion
the world hath of both our worths. " 'E". Bruce.'
(Answer.)
" ' A M'. le Baron de Kinloss,
" ' As it shall be always far from me to seek a quarrel, so
wiU I always be ready to meet with any that desire to make trial of
my valour by sO fair a course as you require. A witness whereof
yourself shall be who, within a month, shaU receive a strict
account of time, place and weapon, where you shaU find me ready
disposed to give you honourable satisfaction by hira that shaU
conduct you thither. In the meantime be as secret of the
appointment as it seems you are desirous of it.
" 'E<i. Sackville.'
" 'AM. M. le Baron de Kinloss,
" ' I am ready at Tergoso, a town in Zealand, to give you
that satisfaction your sword can render you, accompanied with a
worthy gentieraan my 2'', in degree a knight. And for y' coming
I wiU not Umit you a peremptory day, but desire you to make a
definite and speedy repair for y' own honour and fear of pre
vention, until w' time you shaU find me there. ' E"". Sackville.'
" 'Tergoso, 10 Aug. 1613,'
"'AM, M, Sackville,
" ' I have rec^ your letter by y' man and acknowledge
you to have dealt nobly with me, and now I come with all pos
sible haste to meet you, 'E. Bruce,'"
— The Guardian, No. 129, Saturday, Aug. 8,
In No. 133, " The Guardian" remarks : —
" Though I could not find the occasion of the difference, I shaU
present the world with an authentic account of the fight, written
by the survivor to a courtier."
The gallant behaviour of the combatants may serve to raise in
our minds a yet higher detestation of that false honour which
robs our country of men so fitted to adorn and support it. " Sir

246 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
her father's wiU, by her uncle, and a tedious law
suit ensued, which took some time to end.
" sir EDWARD SACKVILLE'S RELATION OF THE FIGHT BETAVIXT
HIM AND THE LORD BRUCE.
" Worthy Sir,
" As I am not ignorant, so ought I to be sensible of the
false aspersions sorae authorless tongues have laid upon me in
the report of the unfortunate passage lately happened between
the Lord Bruce and myself which, as they are spread here, so
I may justly fear they reign also where you are. There are but
two ways to resolve doubts of this nature ; by oath or by sword.
The first is due to magistrates and communicable to friends,
the other to such as maliciously slander and impudently defend
their assertion. Your love, not my merits, assure rae you hold
me your friend, which esteem I am much desirous to retain. Do
me therefore the right to understand the truth of that ; and in
my behalf inform others who either are or may be infected with
sinister rumours, much prejudicial to that fair opinion I desire
to hold amongst all worthy persons ; and on the faith of a gen
tleman the relation I shaU give is neither more nor less than the
bare truth. The enclosed contains the first citation, sent to me
frora Paris, by a Scotch gentleman, who deUvered it to me, in
Derbyshire, at my father-in-law's house." &c. &c. — See Letters,
pp. 244, 245.
He then goes on to relate their meeting at Tergoso, where he
was accompanied by his second. Sir John Heidon; the other
being Mr. Crawford, an English gentleraan. They agreed to go to
Bergen-op-Zoom, where, in the midway, a viUage only divides the
States' territories from the Archduke's.
When they met, Lord Bruce, it appears, having chosen his
sword, insisted that they should fight alone, as he was resolved
the combat should be mortal, and he did not wish to involve his
friends, who must witness " what he must do to satisfy himself
and his honour," The second. Sir J. Heidon, objected to so
bloodthirsty a purpose, and tried to alter it, but he persisted.
SackviUe remarks, that he did not object, although he had eaten
a remarkably good dinner, and surgeons generaUy thought that
a bad time to receive a wound. They mounted their horses, and
rode on; Sackville, furious at Lord Bruce having shown so
bloody a desire for his life, and he having come so far so civiUy to
indulge him with a duel ; and then, " in a meadow, ankle deep in

ANNE CLIFFORD, 247
Two years after, she married Philip Herbert,
Earl of Pembroke, the great favourite of James I.,
remarkable chiefiy for his profusion and for being
one of those on whom the King squandered the
money of the state. He is said to have received
from James not less than eighteen thousand a-year,
at one period ; his services to the country which
merited so large a sum being confined to the
amusement he afforded its sovereign, and his skill
in hunting and hawking. His style of living was
incredibly extravagant, and his sporting establish
ment was sumptuous in the extreme. His dog-
kennels and stables were rather like palaces than
receptacles for animals of the chase. But that
water at least, bidding farewell to our doublets, in our shirts, we
began to charge each other, (the 2 surgeons at a distance,) we
being fully resolved (God forgive us) to dispatch each other by
what means we could, I made a thrust at my enemy, but was
short; and in drawing back ray arm received a great wound
thereon," The second charge, SackvUle got a wound —
" Which past level through my body, and almost to my back ;
and then we wrestled for the two greatest and dearest prizes we
could ever expect trial for, honour and life,"
Then SackviUe recounts how his hand was nearly cut off,
and then how he gets the better. Feeling hhnseU" faint with loss
of blood, he strikes at Bruce, airaing at his heart, and runs him
through the body ; " and drawing out my sword, repast it again
through another place. He cried out, 'O, lam slain!' second
ing his speech with all the force he had, to cast me; but he,
being weak, was cast on his back ; he refused to ask his life,
bravely saying, ' he scorned it.' "
The surgeons then interfered, carrying both off in a fainting
condition ; " Lord Bruce's surgeon making at him with his
master's sword, so that, but for the other, he had been slain ' by
those base hands;' although Lord Bruce, weltering in his blood,
caUed out, ' Rascal, hold thy hand,' " &c,
" Louvain, 8 Sept. 1613,"

248 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
in which he most prided himself was his falconry,
which, at an enormous expense, he had furnished
with birds of game, and attendants for their service,
to train and exercise them.
This man, caUed by Walpole a " memorable
simpleton," in his private Iffe was the most con
temptible of persons; ignorant, vicious, and iUi-
terate, to a degree perfectly astonishing in one of
his rank, and connected with characters eminent
for their refinement in literature — Str PhUip Sidney,
whose name he bore, and his accomplished mother,
from whom he strangely degenerated. Not a single
virtue is recorded of him amidst his many degrading
qualities ; and his high-spirited wife, after enduring
his brutality for nearly twenty years, was at length
obliged to separate from him.
This Earl of Pembroke has been made the theme
of Butler's satirical muse ; he thus celebrates him : —
" Pembroke's a covenanting lord,
That ne'er with God or man kept word ;
One day he'd swear he'd serve the king.
The next, 'twas quite another thing :
StiU changing with the wind and tide
That he might keep the stronger side.
His hawks and_hounds were all his care ;
For them he made his daUy prayer.
And scarce would lose a hunting season
Even for the sake of darling treason.
Had you but heard what thunder-claps
Broke out ofhis and Oldsworth's chaps.
Of oaths and horrid execration.
Oft with, but oftener wdthoirt, passion.
You'd think these senators were sent
From hell to sit in parUament."

ANNE CLIFFORD. 249
Nevertheless, there were sycophants to be found,
who did not blush to eulogise this man,* and,
classing him with his brother. Earl WilUam, to
designate them as " a most noble, an incomparable,
pair of brothers." The first foUo edition of Shak
speare has this dedication.
At length the exceUent wife of this hateful man
was released from her thraldom by his death, and
found herseff a widow with an enormous fortune ;
for, by the demise of her uncle and his heirs, she
inherited, without opposition, aU the great estates of
the Cliffords, besides her two large jointures from
the Earls of Dorset f and Pembroke,
In the meantime, whUe the Earl of Pembroke
had been spending his time in riot and dissipation,
his countess was the patroness and encourager of'
men of letters, Daniel, the poet and historian,
had been her tutor ; J Dr, Donne was protected and
relieved by her ; and no man of genius was unwel
come beneath her roof.
* His speech at Oxford, where he went, selected by the Par
Uament to reform the University, is given by Mr, Jesse, in the
" House of Stuart," See also Harleian Miscellany.
t Amongst her other good deeds, Anne Clifford provided amply
for an iUegitimate family of her first lord.
X A small portrait of Daniel is inserted in a fuU-length picture
of Anne, Countess of Pembroke, preserved at Appleby Castle. —
Percy's Relics.
He succeeded Spenser as Poet Laureat to Queen EUzabeth.
His prose pleases now better than his poetry, and his " History
of England" is written with simplicity and grace. Anne of Den
mark deUghted much in his conversation and verses. He was one
of her grooms of the chamber. He died in 1619, His monument
of Spenser, in Westminster Abbey, was erected by the countess.

250 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The following is one of the poet, George Her
bert's, letters to her, from his living at Bemerton,
near Salisbury, which he had procured through her
means : —
" TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE LADY ANNE,
COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE AND MONTGOMERY, AT
COURT.*
" Madam, " What a trouble hath your goodness brought
on you by admitting our poor services ! Now they
creep in a vessel of metheglin, and still they wiU be
presenting or wishing to see if at length they may
find out something not unworthy of those hands
at which they aim. In the meantime, a priest's
blessing, though it be none of the court style, yet,
doubtless, madam, can do you no hurt,
" Wlierefore the Lord make good the blessing
of your mother upon you, and cause aU her wishes,
diligence, prayers, and tears, to bud, blow, and bear
fruit in your soul, to his glory, yom- own good, and
the great joy of.
Madam, Your most faithful servant
in Christ Jesu,
George Herbert.
* Mr. Howitt, in his amusing work, " Visits to Remarkable
Places," is singularly inaccurate in saying that the countess was
" an independent courtier in the time of EUzabeth, possessing as
lofty a spirit as the Queen herself." Anne Clifford was only
fourteen at the time of the Queen's death.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 251
" Madam, your poor colony of servants present
their humble duties.
" Bee. 10, 1631, Bemerton!'

Free, and with nothing to oppose her inclina
tions, the widowed countess resolved to retUe to
the North, and occupy herseff, in future, with the
care of her estates — which were extremely numerous
and extensive — in the counties of York, West
morland, and Cumberland. The great house of
CUfford possessed five strong castles, besides a forti
fied tower, where the famUy occasionaUy resided.
These strongholds were Skipton, Pendragon,
Appleby, Brougham, and Brugh, with the majestic
tower of Barden, of almost as much importance as
the rest. AU had suffered in the civil wars, and she
found them in a state of great neglect and decay.
Her ambition was to repair and render them all
habitable; and, persevering in her intention, she
accomplished her desired object, placing the follow
ing record of her magnificence over the gate of
each : —
" This castle was repaired by the Lady Anne
Clifford, Countess Dowager of Pembroke, &c.,
after the main part of it had lain ruinous ever
since 1648, when it was demolished, almost to the
ground, by the Parliament tUen sitting at West-

252 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
minster, because it had been a garrison in the civil
wars.
"Laus Deo!"
Barden tower she likewise repaired, and placed
an inscription upon it, setting forth her style and
titles, and naming that it had remained in rains
since her mother lay in it, about the year 1589.
This fortress is remarkable as being the abode of
that Clifford, caUed the " Shepherd Lord," whose
history is as romantic as any that inventive imagi
nation could suggest.
He was son of that cruel Clifford who is said to
have murdered the young Earl of Rutland, and
whom Shakspeare's affecting scene has condemned
to eternal obloquy : —
" Clifford. — The sight of any ofthe house of York .
Is as a fury to torment my soul !
And, till I root out their accursed line,
And leave not one alive, I live in heU !
Therefore 
Rutland.— Oh., let me pray before I take my death !
To thee I pray — sweet Clifford — pity me.
Clifford. — Such pity as my rapier's point affords !"
He met his own death the year after this deed
— being kUled at the battle of Towton — and seems
justly, ff aU accounts are trae, to have deserved his
surname of " The Butcher." His body was not
found, and was supposed to have been throvra into
a pit, amongst a promiscuous heap of slain.
Bome away into concealment by a faithful fol
lower of the family, the infant son and heir, Heniy,

ANNE CLIFFORD. 253
the tenth Baron de CUfford, then only six or seven
years old, was brought up as a shepherd boy ; and,
the contentions of the fatal Roses continuing, it was
not tUl he was thirty-two that he was able to
appear and claim his birthright.
Flenry VII. restored him at once ; but the heir of
this Ulustrious name was a different being from the
glittering knights and courtly gallants of the Court
of Henry of Lancaster. He had never worn any
dress but a suit of hodden grey; he had never
heard other language than the simple and rude
talk of the mountaineers ; knew nothing but
" Of shepherds piping to their sUly sheep,"
and never dreamt of the riches and titles to which
he was born. Such close secrecy was necessary,
that his own rank was kept from him ; and when
the truth was revealed to him, he heard with con
sternation rather than delight that he was lord of
a thousand hUls — the great Clifford of Cumberland.
He had natural abiUties, and great sensitiveness of
mind ; and was, unfortunately for his happiness, too
sensible of his own deficiencies. Nevertheless, he
was twice married; and his second wife, Anne,
daughter of St, John of Bletsoe, was the mother
of the son who succeeded him.
It was scarcely to be expected that he would
prove a congenial husband to a high-bom lady ; his
manners and habits must, of course, have been so
opposite to hers; but, whether she died early, of

254 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
they lived separate, is not recorded. AU that is
known is, that he retired to the solitary tower of
Barden, which was at first no more than a keeper's
lodge. He enlarged it, and there estabUshed him
seff with a very few attendants, for his wants were
few ; and here he hoped to forget the turmoil of a
world for which he was unfitted, and which could
¦ not appreciate his qualities, but saw and contemned
the uncourtliness of his appearance, without seeking
for the worth that lay beneath the rough surface.
The monks of Bolton, however, did not lose so
favourable an opportunity of benefiting themselves
by such a neighbour : they soon discovered that his
early habits had led him to the study, as far as his
simple means went, of astronomy; and they en
couraged and directed him in his pursuit of this
branch of knowledge.
He was, a,s foUowed of course, a liberal benefactor
to their abbey, and a devout and pious follower of
their counsels ; and thus his whole Iffe was taken up
with his telescope and his beads, for a long series of
years : harmless and peaceful, benevolent and good.
But the sound of war, which had so often awak
ened his ancestors, roused the slumbering spirit
which, though quelled for a time, yet dwelt within
him; and he went forth in arms at the battle of
Flodden, fighting with all the valour of his race.
He survived this outburst ten years, and died at
the age of seventy, AprU 23, 1523, leaving a wUd,
freebooting, and extravagant son to succeed him ;

ANNE OLIPPORD. 255
whose name was a terror to the trembling monks,
whenever he and a lawless band, whom he com
manded, made their appearance; and who was
better known to Jews and money-lenders, than in
the court or the camp : he, however, reformed at
length, and married royally,* as did his heir; and it
was his grandson who was the father of the mag
nificent Anne Clifford.
Not far from the countess's castle of Appleby,
formerly resided a remarkable neighbour, who was
the terror of the country, and divided the power
with the Earl of Cumberland, This was Lord
WilUam Howard, warden of the borders under
Queen Elizabeth, a perfect giant of romance, whose
castle of Naworth was thought little less than an
enchanted hold, where spirits made resort, and
aided the grim owner in his works of darkness, f
His occupation was to control and chastise the
bold moss-troopers, whose lawless depredations had
risen to such a height, that it had become necessary
to put them dovra with a strong hand. No man
could have been chosen so fit for the office as Bald
Willy, for so was the governor called in the country,
who, to guard himself in a manner the most secure,
built up his apartments in a sort of labyrinth of
strength and concealment. One hundred and forty
soldiers he kept constantly in attendance ; and he
* His wife, Margaret Percy, was maternally descended from
John of Gaunt, and his son's wdfe was a daughter of Charles
Brandon, by Mary, Queen Dowager of France.
t He is the " Noble Howard, Belted WiU," of Walter Scott.

256 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
felt himseff, with these precautions, capable of re
sisting the most daring attacks.
To approach his apartments it was necessary to
ascend a winding staircase, dark and very narrow,
aUowing room but for one person at a time : this
was defended by a succession of strong doors,
plated with iron, whose massive hinges grated harsh
thunder, and warned those in the interior of the
coming of a stranger. Beyond the last of these
were the rooms occupied by the grim baron; a
Ubrary, a chapel, and a sleeping chamber ; aU low,
dark, and gloomy ; the ceUings rudely carved, and
the light admitted only from the top. Here the
great lord meditated and studied, probably bewU-
dering his brain by a vain search after that won
drous secret which, from age to age, had been the
bane of the learned — that " chemic gold," which
" Had fooled them young.
And beggared them when old."

"DD"

To intrude into this sanctuary was a misde
meanor of great weight, and rarely had any of his
people the hardihood to venture it.
It happened, however, on one occasion, that Lord
William was buried in abstruse calculations, and
his mind had nearly reached, it may be believed, a
point of knowledge after which he had been long
striving, when the huge doors, with shrieking
sound, gave token of a visitor; and. presently the
clanking armour of one of his soldiers was heard on

ANNE CLIFFORD. 257
the last step. The tapestry of his cell was rouglUy
fiung aside, and a liarsh voice informed him, with
out ceremony, that a noted leader of the moss
troopers had just been brought to the castle as a
prisoner : the object of the intruder was to know
his lord's pleasm^e, as to what the captive's fate
should be.
Whether Lord William uttered the sudden excla
mation which burst from his lips in mere irritation
at this vexatious interruption of his studies, or that
the life of a robber was held by him of no moment
in comparison of the mighty elixir which he was
just on the eve of discovering, by the means of
which he could prolong the existence of thousands
to an interminable period — whatever might have
caused his expression, certain it is that he called
out, in a furious tone, " Hang the fellow !"
In the next instant the heavy folds of the arras
were replaced, the mailed step sounded on the stair,
the heavy doors creaked fearfuUy, and Bald Willy
went on witU his study in silence as before,
A few Uours afterwards, having arrived at the
close of his reading, and the shades of evening-
spreading a deeper darkness round his ceU, Lord
WiUiam rose, and, with a thoughtful brow and slow
pace, descended from his tower. Arrived in the
court he summoned his men, and ordered that the
prisoner should be brought before him to be judged.
An astonished .itare was all the answer he received,
and, raising his eyes, he beheld, hanging from a
VOL, II, s

258 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
projecting eminence, a human body deprived of life
and swinging in the blast.
It was soon explained to him that his attendant
had understood the exclamation he uttered as an
order for the immediate execution of the offender,
and had straightway obeyed the command without
a moment's delay, fuUy satisfied of the justice of
the sentence — his own inclinations exactly keeping
pace with the quick decision of his master.
This untoward event, though it pressed but
lightly on the conscience of any of the denizens of
the castle, was elsewhere looked upon as an unwar
rantable act of severity, if, indeed, it deserves to be
considered worse than Lord WiUiam's usual method
of treating offenders.
In other cases the guilty person was brought
before the Warden and his officers, and his crimes
stated : after which, until leisure served to investi
gate the matter, the unfortunate wretch was con
veyed to one of the dungeons to await judgment.
These receptacles were four in number, as hideous
and terrible as imagination can picture ; and such
as they were they may stiU be seen, with the rusted
iron rings visible as when to their dreadful circles
the fated criminal was attached. Here the mise
rable culprit— who was generaUy deserving, it is
true, of little sympathy— sometimes languished
unheard tUl death delivered him; from such a
prison, it must have been a relief to find himself
dragged to the light of day, though but for a few

ANNE CLIPPORD. 259
brief moments, before his body was suspended over
the castle battlements.
The mercUess resolution of Bald Willy, however,
accompUshed the end sought, and the race of moss
troopers, who respected neither life nor property,
were, by degrees, rooted out, and security estab
Ushed in a district wUere all Avas a prey to rapine
and violence.
This castle of Naworth, in the district caUed
GUlsland, from its vaUeys or gills, AAiiicU are beauti
ful deUs in the vicinity of sandy, bleak, and unin
viting hUls, stands on a pleasant eminence, over
looking the valley and abbey of Lanercost, and
commands a strong position. The interior con
trivances to keep an enemy out, or puzzle him
should he once penetrate, may still be traced in the
remains of this once formidable hold ; although it
is generaUy thought that many of the concealed
passages and chambers have never been discovered,
notwithstanding the numerous hiding-places, secret
stairs, and close recesses, revealed by time,
" Nothing," as Gilpin, the historian of these parts,
remarks, " can mark in stronger colours the fears,
the jealousies, and caution of those times, than the
internal structure of one of these castles."
The countess ventured to proceed with her re
pairs in defiance of Cromwell, who at this time was
Protector, and for whom she entertained the most
profound contempt, which she did not attempt to
conceal. Those of her friends who cared for her
s 2

260 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
interest adAised her not to expend so much money
in building, as there was every chance of his order
ing her castles to be destroyed as soon as they were
finished ; but nothing would persuade her, and she
replied to their counsel in these bold words: —
" Let him destroy my castles, if he will ; he shall
find that as often as he levels I wUl rebuild them,
whUe he leaves me a shiUing in my purse."
Either from admiration of her spirit, or dread of
her popularity, CromweU took no cognizance of the
matter, and the imperious countess was aUowed to
restore all the magnificent structures which time
and war had disfigured.
When her uncle died, he had left her affairs so
much involved that she found herseff, in order to
obtain possession of her rights, obliged to have re
course to the law, as she had done before to recover
her patrimony. The Protector, hearing of the in
justice that had been done her, and interested in
her favour, condescended to offer his mediation.
This piece of kindness was received by her with
lofty indignation ; for she could never be brought to
recognise his title or power, and she answered, when
his message was delivered to her, that as long as
there was any law in England she would not accept
his interference : adding, bUterly, " What ! does he
imagine that I, who refused to submit to King
James, wiU bow to him?"
She objected to and disliked CromweU from

ANNE CLIFFORD. 261
principle : and, after his death, when a new order
of things was established, and legitimacy triumphed
only to introduce a worse system of government
and greater profiigacy than had ever yet been known
in England, the Countess Anne was as much dis
gusted and as little a friend to Charles II, When
she was pressed by her friends to go to Court, her
answer was sarcastic and characteristic :
" By no means," said she, " unless I may be
aUowed to wear bUnkers."
Her celebrated reply to the letter of Sir Joseph
Williamson, secretary to Charles II,, who had
written to dictate to her a member for Appleby,
is weU known and frequently cited. Its brief
eloquence is unrivaUed :
" I Uave been buUied by an usurper, neglected
by a Court, but I wiU not be dictated to by a
subject. Your man shan't stand,"*
Evelyn, in his Diary, gives the foUoAving account
of Sir Joseph WUliamson :
"July 22, 1674.— I returned in tUe evening
* Horace Walpole has a paper in "The World," No, 14, AprU 5,
1753, in which he cites this letter of Anne Clifford as one of ^the
proofs he brings of the superiority of style in epistolary corre
spondence possessed by women. Certainly, this epistle is scarcely
a case in point, any more than that he quotes of Lucretia Gon
zaga, in which she orders one of her maids to be whipped, though
it is written " in very choice ItaUan." AVhat similarity he could
find between this brief manly note of Anne Clitford's and the letters
of Eloise and Madame de Sevigne, it is difficult to divine.

262 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
with Sir Joseph WiUiamson, now declared Secretary
of State. He was son of a poor clergyman some-
wUere in Cumberland, brought up at Queen's
College, Oxford, of which he came to be a
fellow : then traveUed, and, retuming when the
King Avas restored, was received as a clerk, under
Mr. Secretary Nicholas. Str Henry Bennett, now
Lord Arlington, succeeding, WiUiamson is trans
ferred to him; who, loving his ease more than
business, though sufficiently able, had he applied
Iiimself to it, remitted aU to his man, WUliamson,
and, in a short time, let him so into the secret
of his affairs that, as his lordship himself told me,
there was a kind of necessity to advance him ; and
so, by his subtlety, dexterity, and insinuation, he
got now to be principal secretary, absolutely Lord
Arlington's creature, and ungrateful enough.
" It has been the fate of this obliging favourite
to advance those who soon forgot their original.
Sir Joseph was a musician, could play at Jeu de
Goblets, exceeding formal, a severe master to his
servants, but so inward with my Lord Obrien, that,
after a few months of that gentleman's death, he
married his widow,* who brought him a noble
* Lady Frances Stuart, sister and heir to Charles Stuart, Duke
of Richmond and Lennox, the husband of that admired beauty,
Mrs. Frances Stuart; with whom Charles II. was so deeply in
love, that he never forgave the Duke for marrying her, which it
is thought, he had formed some intention of doing himself He
took the first opportunity of sending him into an honourable
exile, as ambassador to Denmark, where he shortly after died
leaving no issue.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 263
fortune. 'Twas thought they lived not so kindly
after marriage as they did before. She was much
censured for marrying so meanly, being herself
allied to the royal family,"
Not only did the countess find her dwellings
dilapidated, when she came into possession, but
every church on her estates was in the same condi
tion. Seven places of worship had she to rebuild ;
for one had been made " to stable the steeds " of
the rebels, another had been used as a magazine,
another had been battered to a sheU, and aU were
more or less damaged. Not one of these did the
energetic heiress neglect, for she was resolved that
her tenants and servants should have the opportu
nity of attending divine worship wherever she
resided; and at each of her mansions she lived
a part of every year, regularly moving from one to
tUe otUer; and, having proved the dangers and
evUs of absentee-ism, she was resolved to avert them
as long as she Uved.
Her arrival was hailed in the country whenever
she appeared, for benefits were sure to foUow in her
train, and her steps were attended by the blessings
of aU, Misery and poverty seemed to fiy before
her, for " She had a heart for pity, and a hand
Open as day to melting charity.''
She was not content with occasional acts of
benevolence, but made her charities durable by

264 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
founding asylums for the distressed : two fine
hospitals were amongst the most conspicuous of
her institutions.
By the side of the road, between Penrith and
Appleby, stands a monument, known in the country
by the name of " the Countess' PUlar," which
bears her arms, and supports a sun-dial for the use
of traveUers : the following inscription tells the story
of its erection :
" This pUlar was erected, in 1656, by Anne,
Countess-Dowager of Pembroke, &c. for a memo
rial of her last parting, in this place, Avith her good
and pious mother, Margaret, Countess-Dowager of
Cumberland, on the second of April, 1616, in
memory whereof she hath left an annuity of four
pounds to be distributed to the poor of the parish
of Brougham, every second day of AprU, for ever,
upon the stone table placed hard by. Laus Deo ! "
Every member of the establishment of this bene
volent woman was provided for, in case of good
conduct : the servants were generally children of
her tenants, who looked up to her with reverence
and affection, and considered her interest their own.
Her female attendants never left her to be married,
if she approved their choice, without a portion being
bestowed on them by their beneficent mistress.
Her home was a refuge for the persecuted; and,
during the troublous times when the ministers of
the Church were forced to conceal themselves and

ANNE CLIFFORD. 265
fly from their enemies, she received and assisted
them in the most generous and exemplary manner.
Amongst others. King, Bishop of Chiches
ter, and Duppa and Morley, both afterwards
Bishops of Winchester, experienced her charitable
and pious offices." She allowed to each of these
forty pounds a year ; and on being informed by
them, during their distresses abroad, that a sum of
money would be of more use to them than their
annuity, she immediately, with princely liberality,
remitted them a thousand pounds, to be used as
their necessities required.
Her economy and prudence in managing her
affairs were most scrupulously exact : her accounts
were kept with the greatest care, and her regularity
Avas surprising. Bishop Rainbow, who preached
her funeral sermon, quaintly aUuded to this quality,
which she possessed in so high a degree, by calling
her " a perfect mistress oi forecast and aftercast!'
In each of her domicUes an office was kept, in
Avhich all her receipts and disbursements were
entered Avith commercial exactness.
All her private charities were registered by
herseff with minute accuracy ; so that she had only
to refer to her books to see at once the state of her
pecuniary resources.
Though hospitable and liberal, her domestic
economy was of the strictest kind : no ostentation
or vanity sweUed her expenses, aU came under the
head of necessaries, and one year was made

266 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
exactly to answer in expenditure to that which
had preceded it. Nothing was saved, but nothing
was squandered'; and her own personal charges
were so insignificant, that she was always enabled
to meet every new call upon her bounty and
generosity. Part of her system of economy was the resolute
defence of her rights, which she never aUowed to
be infringed ; and when her spirit was once exerted
in the cause, she carried through aU her measures
with unwearying perseverance and vigour. She
lived in times wUen there was more than common
uncertainty in the law, and when the least weakness
was sure to be taken advantage of. An anecdote,
illustrative of her determined resolution in pre
serving her power, is thus related :
It was customary, on her estates, for each tenant
to pay, besides his rent, an annual addition of what
was called a " boon hen," This was always acknow
ledged as a just claim, and is still in force on some
lands in the North of England, being usuaUy the
steward's perquisite.
It happened that a rich clothier, from Halffax,
named Murgatroyd, having taken a tenement near
Skipton, Avas called on, by tUe steward of the castle,
for his " boon hen :" he refused to pay it, and
stoutly resisted the demand ; on which the countess
ordered a suit to be commenced against him, which
was carried on to great length, in consequence of
his obstiiiacy and her determination. At length

ANNE CLIFFORD. 267
decision was given in the landovraer's favour, and
the Countess Anne recovered her " boon hen,"
which, by that time, had cost her two hundred
pounds. After the suit was decided, it is related that she
invited her adversary to dinner, when the object of
contention, which he had been obliged to pay,
appeared on the table in triumph, being served up
as the fu'st dish. She drew it towards her, and
said, playfully, as she helped him —
" Come, Mr, Murgatroyd, let us now be good
friends ; since you aUow the hen to be dressed at
my table, Ave wiU divide it between us,"
Not only was this singular lady a pattern of eco
nomy and management, but her mind Avas highly
cultivated, and she excelled in many branches of
learning then studied by persons of her rank, Dr,
Donne used to say of her, that " she knew how to
converse of everything ; from predestination to slea-
silk." *
Her chief study was history, an occupation to
which she was particularly attached : that of her
OAvn family alone furnished her with abundant
matter of refiection ; for the stations they had fiUed
in the records of England, from the Conquest
upwards, were always the most prominent — the
* Raw sUk used in embroidery at the period,
Mr, Jesse is strangely mistaken, in his entertaining work on
the Stuart faraily, in naming Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke,
the poet's sister, as the lady of whom Donne made this compli
mentary record.

268 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
names of Veteripont and Clifford appearing on all
great occasions of public interest, from the earliest
periods. Her ambition seems to have been to collect
materials for a history of these two potent Northern
famUies : for this purpose she employed men of
learning at a great expense to search every known
record : those in the Tower, the RoUs, and other
depositories were carefuUy examined, extracts made,
and all fairly transcribed, fiUing altogether three
large volumes.
This valuable manuscript, stiU said to exist
amongst the famUy papers at Appleby Castle, con
tains numerous anecdotes of a great variety of
characters, and is, doubtless, of great interest and
importance. Probably, as a pendant to this curious coUection,
she kept a daily record of all circumstances con
nected witU herseff, and never moved from castle
to castle without a large folio volume, in which
entries were made of aU occurrences that took place
in which she had any concem : it is said, that " to
the paring of her naUs, and the clipping of her
hair," nothing is omitted. As this diary contained
remarks and anecdot.es of many persons of her time,
whose ancestors might have been annoyed at its
being made public, the Eari of Thanet, to whom
her estate of Appleby descended, caused this sin
gular and valuable history to be destroyed. It is
not, however, impossible that a copy was made;

ANNE CLIPPORD. 269
and in that case, perhaps, the papers may yet be
brought to light in these days of curiosity, when
the detaUs of family history are so eagerly sought for.
The exemplary piety of the Countess Anne was
not the least estimable part of her character : she
never swerved from her duties in this respect
throughout her Iffe ; and she must at one time,
during the dissipated and abandoned career of
her second husband, have found, in the exercises of
religion, the only "balm to her hurt mind," She
constantly read the Scriptures with deep attention ;
and few divines were more capable of holding an
argument in theu support, or in explaining difficult
passages, than she was. The New Testament was
her principal study, and next to that, the Psalms of
David, which were every day read to her.
She had a chapel carefuUy fitted up in each of
her castles ; and in spite of the menaces of seques
trations, which she received from the ruling powers
for her determined adherence to the Church of
England, she never abated her zeal, nor concealed
her practice ; and was, nevertheless, fortunate
enough to escape persecution.
No part of her large income was spent on her
self, for her habits were of the simplest kind ; and
neither in dress nor Uving did sUe aUow herself the
slightest indulgence. She was so abstemious, that
she used cheerfuUy to boast, that she had scarcely
ever tasted wine or physic during her whole Ufe,
Even in her youth she had never faUen into the

270 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
extravagance of the Court in respect to magnificent
apparel ; and as she advanced in life, she laid aside
all distinction as to dress, appearing only, for many
years, in a close habit of plain black serge ; so that
in her outward seeming, she was not to be known
from her attendants — a circumstance, which some
times caused singular and amusing mistakes with
strangers. Though she had a large retinue, it was for use,
not parade ; and the numbers she entertained were
generally persons to whom her bounty gave a live-
liUood : two ladies of superior accompUshments
always lived with her, and afforded her the advan
tages of theu society and conversation : though she
spent a great deal of her time alone in private
occupation. She was not acquainted with any language but
her ovra ; rather a singular fact at that period,
when foreign tongues were so much cultivated ; but
she was deeply informed in all tUe literature of
England, and spared no cost to render her library
valuable, by storing it with the best works of the
first writers,
tier Iffe was one of continued usefulness ; her
example was great, and her qualities worthy of
her high station : she lived for others, and her ovra
enjoyment appeared a secondary consideration : her
existence was a blessing to aU around Uer, and
Providence prolonged her days beyond the usual
years of mankind; for she was past eighty when

ANNE CLIFFORD, 271
she was summoned from this world to receive her
reward. She lived twenty-six years after the death of
her unworthy husband, the Earl of Pembroke, and
died on the 23d of March, 1675,—" one," says
her biographer, " of the most melancholy days the
northern counties ever experienced."
Her daughter, Margaret, by the Earl of Dorset,
her sole surviving- heiress, married the Earl of
Thanet, and carried the Clifford estates into the
TuftonfamUy."* Brugh Castle, one of the seats of the Countess
Anne, is thus described by Gilpin, in his tour : —
" From Appleby Castle we soon approach the
barrier mountains ; but we approach them, in the
usual order of nature, by regular progress : the
ground is first high before it becomes mountain
ous, and tiUage appears in scanty plots before culti
vation ceases,
" A little to tUe north of Brugh, the ground on
the left makes a singular appearance, A hUl on
which a fair is annuaUy held, forms an exact semi
circular convex. Scarce a knoU or bush breaks the
regularity of the line. Beyond this, but without
any intervening ground, rises a range of distant
mountains. These wore a light purple hue when
we saw them, the circular hUl a deep green.
* GUpin takes the greatest part of his account of Anne Clifford,
from the MS, life of Sedgwick, her secretary, still extant, at Appleby
Castle.

272 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" At the commencement of the mountains stands
the town and castle of Brugh, not unpleasantly
situated. The castle, which consists, like that of
Appleby, of two parts, seems to have been a very
strong place. Since the time of its last noble in
habitant, the Countess of Pembroke, it has been
falling fast into ruin; but we found it no easy
matter, even yet, to scale the outworks of its
earthen mounds; so strong a fortress has it once
been. Some parts of it, especially a shattered round
tower, are very picturesque.
" We saw the castle in the evening, and the effect
was very grand. The castle and landscape round
were in deep shadow, under the infiuence of a re
tiring storm, which had hung a settled gloom on
all the upper regions of the sky. The sun was
invisible, but had fired the whole of the western
horizon Avith a deep red. We viewed, the castle
from the east, and had, therefore, the raddy part
of the hemisphere as a back-ground to the grey
tints and strong shadows of the towers and bat
tlements which intervened between us and the
west. * * *
" The square tower which made the grand part of
the castle, conveyed, as we looked into it, a very
horrid idea. Most of these old structures have
suffered great external dUapidation; but here the
sheU was entUe, and aU the internal parts were
gone— the roof, the stories, and even the vaiUt over
the dungeon. The whole was a mere excavation.

ANNE CLIPPORD. 273
" The eye, confined within the waUs of a vast tower,
open to the sky above, which loured with unusual
blackness, looked doAvn, with hideous contrast, deep
into a dungeon below.
" Brugh Castle seems to have been erected as a
defence at the northern, as Bowes Castle was at
the southern, extremity of the mountains.
" It would seem that formerly the road over the
mountains of Stainmore was the only one into Cum
berland that was passable, and, of course, it was
necessary to be thus defended."
The situation of the countess's castle of Brugh
does not suggest any very cheerful ideas, lying, as
it does, at one extremity of that extraordinary tract
of land caUed Brugh-marsh, which runs up the
country as far as Solway Frith, and beyond into the
Scotch borders.
There is something extremely wild and sublime
in the foUovAing description of it by the author
quoted above : —
" It is a vast, extended plain, flat as the surface
of a quiet ocean. I do not remember that land ever
before gave me so grand an idea of space ; that sug
gested by SaUsbury Plain is much less pure. The
inequality of the ground there sets bounds to the
imagination : that represents the ocean in a storm,
in which the idea of extension is greatly broken
and intercepted by the turbulence of the waves.
VOL. II. T

274 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Brugh-marsh gives the notion of solid water rather
than of land, if we except only the colour.
" — — Interminable meads.
And vast savannahs, where the wand'ring eye,
Unfixt, is in a verdant ocean lost."'
" Brugh-marsh is one of those extended plains,
only more extensive than such plains usuaUy are,
from which the sea, in a course of ages, has retired.
It is. difficult to compute its Umits. It ranges
many leagues in every direction, from a centre
— for space so diffuse assumes, of course, a circular
appearance — without a hedge or even a bush to
intercept its bounds ; tUl it soften into the azure
mountains of the horizon. Nothing, indeed, but
mountains can circumscribe such a scene ; aU in
ferior boundaries of wood and rising ground are
lost. On the EngUsh side it is bounded by that
circular chain, in the heart of Cumberlan3[' in which
Skiddaw is predominant. Nothing''%ntermediate
appears. On the Scotch side, its course is inter
rupted through the space of a very few leagues by
the Solway Frith, which spreads, when the tide is at
ebb, into a vast stretch of sand. The plain, how
ever, is stiU preserved. Having passed this sandy
obstruction, it changes its hue again into vivid
green, and stretches far and wide into the Scotch
border, tiU Us progress at length is stopped by the
mountains of GaUoway and Niddesdale, * * *
" The whole area of Brugh-marsh, which, from its

ANNE CLIFFORD. 275
denomination, one might imagine to be swampy,
is everywhere perfectly firm and the turf soft,
bright, and pure. Scarce a weed rears its head.
Nothing appears of statelier growtU than a mush
room, which spreads here in luxuriant knots.
" This vast plain is far from being a desert
waste. Innumerable herds of cattle pastm'e at
large, in its rich verdure, and range as in a state of
nature, " Brugh-marsh is further remarkable for having
been the scene of one of the greatest catastrophes
in English history — ^the death of Edward I, Here,
after Scotland had made a third attempt to recover
its Uberty, that prince drew together the most puis
sant army which England had ever seen. The
Scotch, from their borders, saw the plain whitened
AAith tents ; but they -knew not how nearly their
deliverance approached. The greatest events gene
rally UappeH :^looked for,
" They observed a -delay, and afterwards a con
fusion in the mighty host before them ; but they
heard not, tUl three days after, that the soul and
spirit of the enterprise was gone, and that their
great adversary lay breathless in his camp,
" Edward had been taken iU at Carlisle, where
he had met his parliament. But neither disease
nor age, for he was now near seventy, could repress
his ardour. Though he could not mount a horse,
he ordered himself to be carried in a litter to the
camp, where his troops received him with acclama-
'i 2

276 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
tions of joy ; but it was short-lived. The motion
had irritated his disorder into a violent dysentery,
which immediately carried him off.
" The EngUsh borderers long revered the memory
of a prince who had so often chastised an enemy
whom they hated ; and in gratitude raised a pUlar
to his name, which stUl points out tUe spot on which
he died. It stands rather on the edge of the
marsh, and bears this simple inscription :
" Memorise seternse
Eduardi
Regis Anglise longe clarissimi
Qui, in belli apparatu
Contra Scotos occupatus
Hic in castris obiit,
7 Julii A. D. 1307."

The funeral sermon, preached by Bishop Rain
bow* at the interment of the celebrated heiress
of all these castles and dgmains, the iUustrious
Anne CUfford, is so remarkable, and he enters in
it so fully into her character, that I venture to add
the following extracts, which appear to me ex
tremely interesting.
There is a striking solemnity in his apostrophising
" the tomb before your eyes," which was doubtless
visible to the auditory, as it was customary for per-
* Edward Rainbow, Bishop of Carlisle, was celebrated for his
eloquence in the pulpit. He was a man of polite manners, un
common learning, and of exemplary piety and charity. He died
in 1684. — Grainger.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 277
sons, at that period, to make ready and adorn their
last resting-place in their life-time. The incident
reminds us of the great " Oraisons Funebres!'
where the catafalque is pointed to ; and the bishop
introduces, in a way which is very like that of
Bossuet, the rehearsal, in one of the closing periods
of the oration, of the pompous earthly titles of its
hero or heroine. No doubt the effect must have
been very striking of an oration delivered by the
bishop of the diocese in that remote provincial
church, where such a display of greatness and
dignity must have been unwonted ; a fuU attendance
of gentry and tenantry, amongst wUom silence,
attention, and devotion reigned, adding to the re
ligious pomp of the occasion, and, if we may imagine
a manner and delivery corresponding to the circum
stances, slow and measured, calm, grave, and im
pressive, the scene must have been grand in the
extreme,
" A Sermon preached at the Interment of the
Right Honourable Anne, Countess of Pem
broke, Dorset, and Montgomery, who died at
HER Castle of Brougham, March 22, 1675-6,
AND WAS BURIED AT ApPLEBY, ApRIL 14, POL-
LOWING, Prov, xiv, 1."
HER birth.
"Her blood flowed from the veins of three
anciently enobled Families, Cliffords, Viponts. and

,278 eminent englishwomen.
Vesseys ; Lords and Barons in the north ; and she
added (to her Escotcheons) Pembroke, Dorset, and
Montgomery, the titles of three great Earldoms in
the South,"

HER BUILDINGS,
"Let us see what kind of buUdings this wise
woman executed, and for what end they were re
paired or buUt : and here we shaU find that her
Piety and Charity, Gratitude and Kindness, were her
inciters to this work ; that all her buUdings were
for God, or for tUe poor, or for the honour of her
progenitors, or for the benefit of her posterity:
these were the ends which she propounded to her
self in building.
" Indeed, one of the first things (as I was informed)
which she built was (what Jacob had first done) a
Pillar. She buUt a Pillar, a monument which
stands in the highway, at the place where her en
deared mother and she last parted, and took their
final farewel. And as Jacob did, she poured oyl
upon this pillar, the oyl of Charity, pouring down
then, and yearly since, (and that the cruce of oyl
may never faU, ordered to be always continued,)
at a set day every year a sum of money, that oyl to
make glad the heart of the poor ; and witUaU to
be as a precious ointment to perfume Uer pious
MotUer's Memory, tUat Uer good name, and their
mutual deamess of Affection might be engraven,

ANNE CLIFFORD, 279
and remembered by their Posterity and the Poor to
all generations,"
" But her BuUdings for Charity were larger than
a PiUar ; such as gave shelter and maintenance to
the Poor. Besides the repairs and restoring of an
Alms-house, *buUt and endowed by her pious mother,
Margaret, Countess of Cumberland, she buUt an
Alms-house in this place, (Appleby,) and made de
cent provision for thirteen poor women, a Mother
and twelve Sisters, as she called them, to the per
petual reUef of the poor and destitute ; and that
alm.s and devotion might not be separated, she gave
allowance for the Prayers of the Church to be daily
administered to them."
" Gratitude to her ancestors was another end of
her buUding, that she might with some cost hold up
what they with such vast expence had founded and
buUt. " Six antient Castles, ample and magnificent,
which her noble ancestors had built, and sometimes
held up with great honour to themselves, security to
their Soveraigns, and hospitality to their Friends
and strangers ; now by the rage of war, or time, or
accidents puU'd dovra, or made un-inhabitable,
scarce one of those six that shewed more than the
Sceleton of an House ; her reviving Spirit puts life
into the work, made fall these dry bones livej these
scattered Stones come together, those Ruines for-
* At Bearmby,

280 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
sake their Rubbish, and lift up their Heads to their
former height. A marveUous task it was which she
undertook, to design the re-buUding so many, and
such great Fabricks ; to rear up them, when the
earthly house of her Tabernacle began to stoop and
decline ; being about the sixtieth year of her Age
when she began : who then could hope to finish ?
but when she did consider in her great mind, did
think (as Psal. cii. 14) upon the stones, and it pitied
her to see them in the dust.* Her prudence (as
with her hands) set on the work ; raised, cemented,
finished ; and where others might have thought it
glory enough to have been the Bestorer of any one,
she laid the Top-stone on them all."
" But lastly she could not forget the main end of
her building, Piety to God, in re-building or repair
ing his Houses, Churches or Chappels. She rebuUt,
or by repairing, restored six Houses of her ovra, but
of God's Houses seven. f She had no dwelling for
Uerself where God had not a House to be wor
shipped publickly, besides private Oratories in her
Houses. " If now I could set before your eyes, or before
your imaginations, six Castles, seven Churches or
Chappels, besides the two Alms-houses, and other
* One had lain 140 years desolate, after the fire had consumed
it, (.BroM^A-Castle, the timber burned, anno 1521.) Another
320 years, after the invading Scots had wasted it. (Pendragon-
Castle, wasted by i)aCT(/, YAn^oi Scots, anno 1341.)
t Brougham, Nine-Kirks, Appleby, Bongate, MaUerstang, Bar
den, Skipton.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 281
iuferiour subservient Buildings, which she made, or
made useful ; if I could represent aU these before
you in one landskep or view, you would imagine
you saw something greater than an Escurial ; an
eighth Wonder, or something more wonderful than
the seven, which the Heathen World hath boasted
of; at least more Beneficial to the world than they."
THE WELL ORDERING OF HER FAMILY.
" Her chUdren, which were but two* that grew
up to perfect age ; she built them up in the nurture
and fear of the Lord ; season'd them with sound
principles of Religion, as was sufficiently evident to
those who have known them, and their constancy to
the true Religion, in which they were trained up ;
teaching their children the same principles which
they had sucked with their mother's milk."
HER BOUNTY AND FAMILIARITY TOWARDS HER
SERVANTS.
" Therefore as many great and wise Governours .
of FamUies have been observed to do, in certain
seasons to condescend, let down themselves and
their state, by taking up their discreeter servants,
into some degree of Familiarity with them ; so, I
say, this Heroick Lady would (besides the necessary
* Lady Margaret, Countess of Thanet, and Isabella, Countess of
'i^orthamplon.

282 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
discoursing with them about her affairs) divert her
seff by famUiar conversation with her servants ; in
which they were sure (besides other gains from her
bountiful hands) to gain from the words of her
mouth something of Remarque; whether pleasant
or profitable, yet very memorable for some or other
occasion of life. So weU did she observe the wise
man's caution, Ecclesiasticus iv. 30, Be not a Lion
in thy house ; intimating that some are always in
rage, and brawl, and fright their famUy from their
presence ; her Pleasantness and xiffabUity made
their very addresses a great part of their prefer
ment. It was indeed observable, that although she
clothed herself in humble and mean attUe, yet, like
the wise and virtuous woman, Prov, xxxi, 21, She
clothed her household luith scarlet ; her aUowance
and gifts were so bountiful, and so frequent to
tUem, that they might afford to clothe themselves in
such garb, as best became the servants of so great
and so good a Mistris."
" But although in this she did foUow the pattern
given to all tUe wise, Prov, xxxi. 15, Give meat to
thy household, and in such plenty that HospitaUty
and Charity might have their portion with them ;
while she herself was contented with any pittance,
little in quantity (but enough to keep Iffe and soul
together, as we say,) Viands not costly or rare, not
far fetch'd and dear bought, but such as were at
hand, parable and cheap. Yet here I may be bold
to tell you something to wonder at ; that she much

ANNE CLIPPORD, 283
neglected, and treated very harshly one servant, and
a very Antient one, who served her from her Cradle,
from her Birth, very faithfuUy, according to her
mind ; which ill usage therefore her menial Ser
vants, as well as Uer Friends and Children, much
repined at. And who this Servant was, I have
named before, Lt loas her body, who, as I said,
was a Servant most obsequious to her mind, and
served her fourscore and six years ! It wUl be held
scarce credible to say, but it is a truth to averr,
that the Mistris of this FamUy was dieted more
sparingly, and I believe, many times more homely,
and clad more coursly and cheaply than most of the
Servants in her House ; her Austerity and Humility
were seen in nothing more than (if I may so allude
to Coloss, ii, 23) in neglecting of the body, not in
any honour to the satisfying of the Flesh.
" Not only giving her servants their meat in due
season, but the meat that would nourish them to
everlasting life, i. e. the Sacrament,
" This Spuitual meat, this Lady wisely took care
that it might be provided for all her household in
due season ; that is, at the three seasons in the year
when the Church requires it ; and once more in the
year, at the least ; besides those three great Festivals
she made one Festival more, for all that were fit to
be invited, or compeUed (as in the Gospel) to come
to that Supper, And that aU might be fitted and
well-prepared, she took care that several Books of
Devotion and Piety might be provided four times in

284 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
the year ; that every one might take their choice of
such Book as they had not before, by which means
those that had lived in her house long (and she
seldom turn'd any one away) might be furnished
with Books of Religion and Devotion in every kind."
HER HABITS.
" SUe could discourse with Virtuosos, Travellers,
Scholars, Merchants, Divines, Statesmen, and with
Good Houswives, in any kind. . . . Insomuch that
a prime and elegant Wit (Dr. Donne), weU seen in
all Uiimane Learning, and afterwards devoted to the
study of Divinity (by the encouragement and com
mand of a learned king, and a rare Proficient in it)
is reported to have said of this Lady, in her younger
years, to this effect : That she knew well how to
discourse of all things, from Predestination to Slea-
silk!' " Authors of several kinds of .Leaming, some of
Controversies very abstruse, were not unknovra to
her. She much commended one book, William
Barklays Dispute with Bellarmine, both, as she
knew, of the Popish persuasion, but the former less
Papal ; and who, she said, had weU stated a main
point, and opposed that learned Cardinal, for giving
too much power, even in temporals, to the Pope,
over kings and secular princes ; which she seem'd to
think the main thing aim'd at by the foUowers of
that Court," &c. &c.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 285

HER SINGULAR CUSTOM OF PINNING SCRAPS ABOUT
HER ROOM. , y - ,
" She was not ignorant of knowledg in any kind,
which might make her Conversation not only useful
and grave, but sX^o pleasant and delightful; which
that she might better do, she would frequently
bring out of the rich storehouse of her Memory,
things new and old. Sentences or Sayings of remark,
which she had read or learned out of Authors, and
with these her Walls, her Bed, her Hangings, and
Furniture, must be adorned; causing her Servants
to write them in Papers, and her Maids to pin
them up, that she, or they, in the time of their
dressing, or as occasion served, might remember,
and make their descants on them. So that, though
she had not many Books in her Chamber, yet it was
dressed up with the flowers of a Library. Go now
and tell the Superfinical who disdain the meanness
of her Chamber and Apartments ; who cannot
dress themselves, but in well-dressed and gorgeous
Rooms ; let them come hither and see the riches of
her Furniture, better than Silver and Gold, if King
Solomon (who had SUver beyond weight, and Gold
in abundance) may be judge. The Sayings of Wis
dom, which he determines to be more precious than
Bubies, these were strewed about her Chambers,
these were instead of those rare Trinkets so much
in use, Esa. iU. 20."

286 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
HER HUMILITY AND PLAINNESS.
" She was, as the Apostle advises, Cloathed with
Humility, all over. Her greatest Ornaments were
those of a meek and quiet spirit. She was (by the
merit of her due Titles) in Honour Mree Coimtesses,
but had a stranger seen her in her Chamber, he would
not have thought he had seen one Lady, as Ladies
now adays appear. Indeed you might have some
times seen her sitting in the Alms-house (which she
buUt) among her twelve Sisters (as*she called them) ;
and, as if they had been her Sisters indeed, or her
ChUdren, she would sometimes eat her dinner with
them, at their Alms-house; but you might find
them often dining with her (at her Table) some of
them every week, all of them once a month : and
after meat, as freely and famUiarly conversing with
them in her Chamber, as if they had been her
greatest Guests. And truly, the greatest of her
Guests, her noblest Children, could not please her,
if they did not visit them, and pass their Salutes at
her Alms-house, Avith those Sisters, and the Mother,
sometunes before they made their first Address to
herseff, their Mother ; whose natural Affection Avas
known to be great, but her Charity and Humility
greater ; and she commonly admonished her ChU
dren, coming from far to pay tUeir Duty to her,
that before they made their Address to her for her
Blessing, they should take the Blessing of the poor,
the Alms-women s blessing, by the way!'

ANNE CLIPPORD. 287
HER EXPERIENCE OP COURTS.
" Nevertheless, she had known greatness, as well
as any other, being bred in the Courts, or in the
Verges of the Courts, of three great Princes, who
(reigning in Peace) had as much magnificence and
glory as any that had swayed the Scepter of this
Land. " She was so unwUling to be censorious or to
seem uneasie to any of those who, as she thought,
did necessarily pay an obedience to Fashion and
Custom ; which she knew was a kind of Tyrant,
and wiU Reign over the most, whUe we live under
the moon ; That when a neighbour, a Lady, whom
she used (as she commonly did aU) witU great
familiarity, expressing together with her their Joy
in discourse of his Majestie's most glorious and
happy return to his Kingdom and Court at Wliite-
hall, and the gallantry which at his entrance
attended that place ; the Lady wished that she
would once more go to London and the Court,
and glut her eyes with the sight of such happy
objects, and after that give up herseff to her
Country retirement : she as suddenly and pleasantly
replyed, ' If I should go to those places, now so full
of Gallantry and Glory, I ought to be used as they
do ill-sighted or unruly Horses, have Spectacles (or
Blinkers) put before mine eyes, lest I should see
and censure what I cannot competently judge of ; be
offended myself or give offence to others ;.,,'"

288 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.

HER CONVERSATION.
" Her conversation was indeed meek, affable,
and gentle, her words, according to the circum
stances of Persons in her presence, pleasant or
grave, always season'd with salt, savoury, but never
bitter. I had the honour to be often admitted to
her Discourse, but never heard (nor have been told
by others) that she was invective, or censorious, or
did use to speak Ul, or censoriously of Persons, or
Actions ; but she was especiaUy cautious in cen
suring PubUc Persons or Actions, in matters of
State. I was present wUen she was told of the
certainty of the War with the Dutch, and of the
great preparations on aU hands ; on whicii subject
she only said, ' Lf their sins be greater than ours,
they would have the worst! "
HER CONSTANCY.
" Constancy was so knovvn a virtue in her, that
it might vindicate the whole Sex from the contrary
imputation." CURIOUS INSTANCES OP HER DECISION.
*' When she had once weighed the CUcumstances
and resolved, she did not like to have any after
considerations, or to be moved by them. Thi^
made her constant to her resolutions, even in lesser

ANNE CLIPPORD. 289
matters, as, the times of her removals from one of
her houses to another.
" She had six Houses (as I have intimated) in
each of which she used, at her prefixed times, to
keep her residence.
" None can caU this an unsettledness, or humour
of mutability ; it was not onely, that she might the
better hold up, and keep in repair those Houses,
which commonly in the Owner's absence (who is
the Soul of the House) turn to Carcasses, ready
to be dissolved, fall to mine and dust ; but she
resolved, by her presence, to animate the Houses
which she had built, and the Places where she
lived ; to dispense and disperse the infiuences of her
Hospitality and Charity in all the Places where her
Patrimony lay, that many might be made Partakers
of her comforts and kindness.
" In her frequent removals, both going and
coming, she strewed her Bounty all the way. And
for this end it was (as may be charitably conjec
tured) that she so often removed ; and that not only
in the Winter season, less fit for travelling ; but also
that she chose to pass those uncouth, and un
trodden, those mountainous and almost impassable
ways, that she might make the poor people and
labourers her Pioneers, who were always well
rewarded for their pains ; let the season be never
so bad, the places never so barren, yet we may say
it, by way of allusion, Psal. Ixv. 11, She crowned
ihe Season with her goodness, and her paths dropped
VOL. II. u

290 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
fatness, even upon the pasture of the wilderness ; the
barren mountains. If she found not mines in these
mountains, I am sure the Poor found Money in
good plenty, whensoever she passed over them.
" But that which I speak of for an instance of
her constancy, is a known story in these parts.
" When about three years ago she had appointed
to remove from Appleby to Brougham-Castle (in
January) the day being very cold; a frost, and
misty ; yet much company coming (as they usually
did) to attend her removals ; she would needs hold
her resolution, and in her passage out of her house
she diverted into the Chappel (as at such times she
commonly did) and there, at or near a window,
sent up her private Prayers and Ejaculations ; when
immediately she feU into a swoon, and could not be
recovered, untU she had been laid for some time
upon a Bed, near a great fire. The Gentlemen and
Neighbours who came to attend her, used much
perswasion, that she would retum to her Chamber,
and not travel on so sharp and cold a day; but
she having before fixed on that day, and so much
company being come purposely to wait on her, she
would go ; and although as soon as she came to her
Horse-Utter she swooned again, and was carried
into a Chamber, as before, yet as soon as that Fit
was over, she went ; and was no sooner come to
her journey's end, (nine miles) but a swooning
seized on her again; from which, being soon
recovered, when some of her servants, and others

ANNE CLIFFORD. 291
represented to her, with repining, her undertaking
such a Joumey, fore-told by divers to be so
extremely hazardous to her Iffe; she replied, she
knew she must die, and it was the same thing to Her
to die in the way, as in her House ; in her Litter as
in her Bed ; declaring a courage no less than the
great Boman General, Necesse est ut cam, non ut
vivam; she would not acknowledge any necessity
why she should live, but believed it necessary to
keep firm to her Resolution. She did indeed dis
cover by this, not only a Moral constancy, but a
Christian courage, against the fear of death ; from
whence might also be weU supposed, a Soul ready and
prepared to meet DeatU any where, knowing what
the Apostle hath taught her, 2 Cor. v. 1, That if
her earthly House of this Tabernacle were dissolved
she should have a Building qf God, an house not
made with hands, eternal in the Heavens. That
Death was but a removal from one house to another,
from a worse house, to a better, an earthly house to
an heavenly; fUtting from an House buUt by
nature, a Tabernacle earthly and dissoluble, to an
House, a firm Mansion, prepared by Christ, built
by God, eternal in the Heavens, from a Tabernacle
to a Temple!'
HER COURAGE DURING THE REBELLION AND
USURPATION.
" It was even then, that this couragious Lady
dared to own herseff Loyal; then, when they had
u 2

292 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
fiUed her Castle with Souldiers, and those of fierce
and phanatical spirits, and none more fierce than
they. " The Head of those who at that time oppressed
this Noble Lady was one,* whom even his great
Master himself looked upon as under a Dispensa
tion more iQvxiblj phanatical than any in his Host,
terrible even to himself and his usurped Power.
Tins dreadful man quartered himself under the roof
of this Noble Lady ; had made suspitious inquiries,
or rather declared his presumptions, of Her sending
assistance privately, where he was conscious that
Loyal Duty required, and her affection might wish
it, if there had been means with safety to convey
it; but being not able to make proof of that, he
would needs know her opinion, and dispute her out
of her Loyalty at a time when she slept, and Uved
but at Uis meroy, giving her Alarms night and day
when he listed. If she had now shrunk, and
seem'd to yield to his opinion, she might pretend
the learned PhUosopher's excuse, who disputing
with a great General, and yielding up the trath of
the Cause, pleaded (to those who upbraided him)
that he had done wisely to be confuted by him
who had so many Legions, such an Army, to prove
what he list, near, and at his command. But this
undaunted Lady would not so easily yield, but
would be superiour in the Dispute ; having Truth
and Loyalty on her side, she would not betray
• Harrison,

ANNE CLIFFORD, 293
them, at the peril of her Life and Fortune; but
boldly asserted, that she did love the King, that she
would live and dye in her Loyal thoughts to the
King ; so with her Courage duUed the edge of so
sharp an Adversary, that by God's mercfful re
straint he did her no harm at that time."

HER DILIGENCE  KEEPING ACCOUNT OF THE EMPLOY
MENT OP HER TIME AND OP HER ACTIONS,
" She did cast up the account of them and see
what every day had brought forth ; she did set down
what was of more remark, or dictated and caused
much of it to be set down, in writing, in some
certain seasons, which she contrived to be vacant
from Addresses ;" &c, &c.
"I confess, I have been informed, that after
some reviews, these were laid aside; and some
parts of these Diaries were summed into Annals.
" As she had been a most Critical Searcher into
her own Lffe, so she had been a diUgent EnqiUrer
into the Lives, Fortunes, and Characters of many of
her Ancestors for many years.
" Some of them she hath left particularly de
scribed; as the exact annals of divers passages,
which were most remarkable in her own Life, ever
since it was wholly at her own disposal; that is,
since the Death of her last Lord and Husband,
PhUip, Earl of Pembroke, which was for the space
of six or seven-and-twenty years.

294 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
"But this I wUl say, that as from this her great
Diligence, her Posterity may find contentment in
reading these abstracts of Occurrences in her own
Life; being added to her Heroick Father's and
Pious Mother's Lives, dictated by herself; so, they
may reap greater fruits of her DiUgence, in finding
the Honours, Descents, Pedigrees, Estates, and the
Titles, and Claims of their Progenitors, to them;
comprised Historically and Methodically in three
volumes of the largest size, and each of them three
(or four) times fairly written over ; which although
they were said to have been coUected and digested
in some part, by one,* or more, learned Heads, yet
they were wholly directed by herseff; and attested
in the most parts by her own Hand."

HER GENERAL CHARACTER,
"Her whole conversation was regular; a Bute
(scarce subject to exception) strict, and strait-lac d,
as to herself; but benign, candid, a^v^ favourable,
leaving others to their liberty.
"There might indeed seem in the opinion of
some, many Paradoxes and Contradictions in her
Lffe ; she lived, and conversed outwardly with the
world, as easily as might be ; yet her Guise inward
and reflex' d, was quite as one of another world.
• Sir Matthew Hale, Lord Chief Justice.

ANNE CLIFFORD. 295
" Of an humour pleasing to aU ;"yet like to none;
her Dress, not disliked by any, yet imitated by
none. Those who fed by Her might be full, if
with Her, starv'd ; to eat by the measm-es she took
to herself. She was absolute Mistris of herself, her
Besolutions, Actions, and Time ; and yet allowed a
time for every purpose, for aU Addresses, for any
Persons ; None had access but by leave, when she
caUed; but none were rejected; none must stay
longer than she would ; yet none departed unsatis
fied. Like him at the Stern, she seem'd to do
Uttle or nothing, but indeed turn'd and steer' d the
whole course of her Affairs,
" She seem'd (2 Cor, vi. 10,) as poor, yet making
many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing all
things. She had many occasions of sorrow, but ap
pear'd as ff she sorrowed not, and again, rejoyced as
if she rejoyced not. She had no visible transports,
she did itse the World as not ¦using, at least, as not
abusing of it.
" None disliked what she did, or was, because
she was like herseff in aU things : sibi constans,
semper eadem, the Great, wise Queen's Motto, whose
favour in her first, and that Queen's last years, she
was thought worthy of, and received, as she herself
hath expressly remembered, I say, she was to
herseff, her own Reason and Resolutions, constant,
permanent, knowing that the fashion of this world
passeth away!'

296 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.

HER RELIGION.

"Forvher Religion, and professing of the true
Faith, she did boldly, upon aU occasions, acknow
ledge what it was ; but especially upon one remark
able occasion, and it was this :
"About the same time when the Sword-men
usurped dominion over the Persons and Estates of
aU the Loyal in the Land, they permitted their Spi
ritual Emissaries to exercise dominion over their
Faith; and they were busy in Catechising, but
whom? not Children in the Church (no more
than they cared to Baptize them there ;) But they
must Catechise men and women of all Ages and
Ranks whatsoever, in their Houses, or where they
appointed them to appear.
" WeU, this great Lady was not more dreaded
for her Loyalty than suspected for her Beligion,
and therefore, as they had brought her to the
Touch-stone for the one, they must bring her to the
Test, and Tryal for the other.
" Whether it were a Committee, with a Club of
their Divines, Lay-elders, and Superintendants
over all that were appointed, I have not been
informed ; but to gain countenance, they drew in
with them some ministers of better temper, and
came to her Castle, which had a Garrison (no good
Guests to her, but sure Friends to them). They
bring her to be examined ; what their Ques
tions were, I have not particularly learned ; onely

ANNE CLIFFORD. 297
by her Answer I may suppose one in general to
have been. What Faith and Beligion she professed ?
" One might well have thought, in a Person of
her Quality, Age, and Spirit, Disdain at such Inso-
lency should have kept her from answering, or
saying anything, except in reproaching their Arro
gancy, and proud Hypocrisy.
" But, having learned another Lesson, I Pet. iii.
15, To be ready always to give an answer to every
man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is
in you with meekness and fear, her readiness and
meekness made her wiUing to give a reason of her
Hope ; Hope, which is buUt upon Faith ; and she
told them to this, or like, effect :
" That her Faith was built upon the foundation
of the Prophets and Apostles; that is, upon the
Holy Scriptures, the Word of God, as delivered
and expounded by tUe Church of England, Avhose
Doctrine, Discipline, and Worship, as by Law
established, she was bred in, and had embraced ;
and by God's Grace yfovXdi persist in it to her Life's
end. This general (with other more explicit)
Answer, was so apposite; deUvered witU-such
firmness of mind, that some ministers whom they
had drawn in with them, to give a colour to theu-
presumption, observing that this weU-taught Lady
h.adipurchased a good degree of boldness in the Faith;
observing, I say, the stedfastness and tryal of her
Faith, more precious than Gold that perisheth, (they
knew that Gold she would easily let go, upon

298 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
aU occasions, very liberally, but saw she would
hold fast the Faith once deUvered to her) they left
her ; one of them going out weeping, amazed, and
confounded, to find such Knowledg, Constancy,
and Courage, in a woman, her Faith so sound, and
laudable, and mixed with so much Christian meek
ness, and condescention.
"The rest also (being no doubt, astonished at
her Understanding and Answers) left her a glorioUs
Confessor, wiUing enough, no doubt, to have been
a Martyr, and to have sealed to the truth by
undergoing any more fiery tryal.
" And she was after this so resolute to stick to
the Order of the Church in the main point of
Practice, partaking of the holy Eucharist, that
when there was a kind of Lnterdict on the Land, a
forbidding to administer the Sacraments according
to the Common-Prayer, she would not, what danger
soever might happen, communicate any other way ;
sticking close to the Rules and Forms of sound
words, prescribed by the Bubrick, to which she had
always been accustomed, and had approved it by
her oAvn judgment : having suck'd also, as it were,
with her mother's milk, wholsom Institutions, who
train'd her up as an obedient daughter of the
Church of England!' HER DEVOTION.
"For her Devotion; some thought less of it,
because she had no Domestick Chaplain ; and it was

ANNE CLIFFORD. 299
an Objection, which I knew not how to ansM'er,
until I was assured, that although she had no
Chaplain menial in her House, yet she had six
Household Chaplains : at every one of her Houses
the Parochial Ministers did officiate to her Family,
as weU as at their Cures, and they wanted not all
due encouragements from so good a Patroness.
"Indeed, when age had deprived her of the
benefit of her Limbs ; her hearing also being much
decayed, her Chamber as I intimated was her
Oratory, a house pf Prayer, not that the Morning
and Evening Service were performed daUy there,
especiaUy of late, when her Hearing failed. But
she seldom omitted. Morning and Evening, and at
Noon, to offer up her private Devotions to God,
and in whatsoever postm-e she was, to send up
some holy Ejaculations. The Psalms for the day
of the Moneth were never omitted to be read by
her self ; or when under some indisposition, read to
her by her Attendants. She much deligUted in
that holy Book, it was her companion, and when
persons, or their affections, cannot so well be
known by themselves, they may be guessed at by
their companions,"
" Besides this, which she did commonly read
herseff, she usuaUy heard a large portion of Scrip
ture read every day, as much as one of the Gospels
read every week. So that let her body be fed
never so sparingly, her soul was nourished with
sound words, the words of Faith, which must needs

300 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
give her a growth in Grace, and make a sincere
heart. " She took a particular delight in one Chapter,
which she used to repeat every Lord's day in the
year, and never failed to do it ; it was the eighth of
the Bomans, which she had by heart (in the best
sense) had laid it up in her heart ; and truly she
could hardly find a better Cordial in any one
Chapter in all the Holy Scriptures,
" Which, how comfortable, how pertinent, how
useful it may be to any Christian,, in any condition,
who desires, with Meditation and Reflection, to
peruse it, it may be sufficient to refer them to the
serious reading of it, and I doubt not but they wiU
approve this Ladle's Wisdom and Piety, in her
choice, and frequent application of it to herseff;
and she did so when Death look'd her in the face ;
repeating it the first day when her Sickness (which
proved mortal) seized on her,
"  ^in that selected chapter (Rom, viii,) the
greatest Emphasis in it is to teach Patience, either
in inward afflictions of the Soul, or outward pres
sures on the Body ; securing the Soul against the
fear of damnation, though under sinful infirmities ;
and sustaining the Body and outward man, though
under the Cross and greatest afflictions; assuring,
that where Patience hath endured to the utmost, when
Patience shall have pefected its work, it shall have
its reward, a Crown at the last,"

ANNE CLIFFORD, 301
HER PATIENCE,
" She had many tryals of her Patience, &c, and
amongst the tryals of this kind, I was able to observe
one great work of Patience wrought out by this
pious Lady. When the astonishing news was brought
her, about three years since, from the Lsle of
Gainsey, of the strange and disasterous death of
one of her dear Grand-Children, with a Lady of
great Piety and Honour, and divers others, by a
^;errible blast by Gunpowder, the relation of which
amazed the Court, and aU tUat heard of it ;
although she first received the news with a sorrow,
suppressed by a sUence and wonder; yet after,
when she heard that the Noble Lord, her Grand
son,* who had also been blown up out of his
Chamber (and by a wonderful Providence, being
thrown upon an high Wall) that he and two of her
Grand-children escaped without any harm, she dis
covered a patient submission to the wUl of God, in
many CUristian expressions, which soon after I did
receive from herself, and several times after, when she
was pleased to renew the rememberance of it, with
much admiration, and acknowledgment of the secret
wayes of God's Judgements and Mercies ; on which
she could enlarge with many heavenly expressions."
THE END,
" But now Patience through all these expe
riences began to draw its work to perfection ;
'¦ Lord Hatton.

302 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
which it never doth except it dye with them
whom it hath supported in life.
" A little before Her death. Patience, and Meek
ness, and low thoughts of Her Self, which had been
Her practice, were now Her Argument. Discoursing
frequently with one of her nearest Attendants, and
seeing her, and others, passionatly concern'd, and
busie about her, she'wiUed them not to take so
much pains for her, who deserved less ; expostu
lating why any, herself especiaUy, should at any
time be angry ; why any of these outward things
should trouble her, who deserve so little, and had
been blessed with so much ? By which it might
appear that she had brought into subjection aU
great thoughts, she had cast down imaginations,
and every high thing, bringing into captivity every
high thought, and submitting the World and her
Soul to the Obedience of Christ ; her passions were
mortified and dead before her : so that for three or
four dayes of last sickness, (for she indured no
more) she lay as if she indured nothing ; she caUed
for her Psalms, which she could not now, as she
usuaUy had done, read herself (the greatest Symp-
tome of her extremity) she caused them to be read
unto her. But that Cordial of which I have spoken
(kept, in Rom. viii. and in her heart) this her memory
held to the last, this she soon repeated : No doubt
to secure her soul against all fear of Condemnation,
being now wholly Christ's, having served Him in the
spirit of her mind, and not loved to walk after the

ANNE CLIPPORD. 303
Flesh, having (as often as she affectionatly pro
nounced the words of this chapter) caUed in the
Testimony of the Spirit to bear her witness that
she desired to be delivered from this Bondage of
Corruption into the glorious liberty of tbe ChU
dren of God ; and so to strengthen her Faith and
Hope by other comfortable Arguments, contein'd in
the rest of that chapter, being the last words of
continuance, which this dying Lady spoke.
" The rest of the time, as if it had been spent in
Ruminating, Digesting, and speaking inwardly to
her Soul, what she utter'd with broken words, she
lay quiet, and without much sign of any Pertur
bation ; after a whUe, in a gentle breath, scarce
perceptible, she breathed out that Soul which God
had breathed into her ; rendring it even to that
God which gave it. So breathed her last, and
quietly slept, not to be awakened again, but by the
Archangel's Trumpet, when it shaU call her to the
Besurrection of the Just.
" Thus feU at last this goodly Building ; Thus
died this great wise Woman ; who while she lived
was the Honour of her Sex and Age, fitter for an
History than a Sermon.
" Who having weU considered that her last
Remove, (how soon she knew not) must be to the
House qf Death; she buUt her own Apartment
there; the Tomb before your eyes; against this
day, on which we are all now Uere met to give her
Reliques Livery and Seizin, quiet possession.

304 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" And whUe her Dust lies silent in that Chamber
of Death, the Monuments which she had buUt in
the Hearts of all that knew her, shall speak loud in
the ears of a profligate generation ; and teU, that
in this general Corruption, lapsed times decay, and
downfal of Vertue, the thrice Illustrious Anne,
Countess of Pembroke, Dorset, and Montgomery,
stood immovable in her Integrity of Manners,
Vertue, and Religion ; was a weU-buUt Temple
for Wisdom and aU her train of Vertues to reside
in ; is now removed and gone to inhabit a Building
of God, an House not made with Hands, eternal in
the Heavens. To which blessed Mansion let us aU
endeavour to foUow her, by treading in the steps of
her Faith, Vertue and Patience ; That having fought
the good Fight, finished our Course, and kept the
Faith, we may receive the Crown of Bighteousness,
which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give at
that day to all that love his appearing!'

MARY EVELYN.

Evelyn, in his interesting diary, records the
bUth of a daughter, Oct, 1, 1665, in these words: —
" This afternoon, whUst at evening prayers,
tidings were brought me of the birth of a daughter
at Wotton, after six sons, in the same chamber
I had first tooke breath in, and at the first day
of that month, as I was on the last, forty-five years
before." This was during the period of the great plague
in London, when he had sent down his wife and
children to his country place for security, and
remained himself in town to attend to the duties
of his office.
From time to time the tender and pious father
names his Mary in his journal, evidently proud
of her accomplishments and the admiration she
.excites. When she is seventeen, he enters in his
memoranda the fact that, on the 7th February,
she began to learn music of Signor Bartholomeo,
VOL, II, X

306 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
in praise of whose genius he has been very eloquent
before ; and also " dauncing, of Mon' Isaac, reputed
the best masters."
He relates her triumphs in singing with infinite
pleasure, " I was invited to my Lord Arundel, of Wardour,
where, after dinner, Mr. Pordage entertained us
with his voice, that exceUent and stupendous artist,
Signor J" Baptist, playing to it on the harpsichord.
My daughter, Mary, being with us, she also sung,
to the great satisfaction of both the masters, and a
world of people of quaUty present. She did so also
at my Lord Rochester's the evening following,
where we had the French boy, so famous for his
singing, and, indeed, he had a delicate voice, and
had been weU taught,"
Amidst the dissipation, immorality, and neglect
of all duties so unfortunately conspicuous at this
period, it is a real pleasure to find that, there existed
a few superior spirits, whose example might still
assure the sorrowing world that goodness and
virtue had not
" Sprung on the viewless winds to Heaven again."
At a time when the indulgent friend of the disso
lute Charles is obUged to note down Uis disgust of
scenes such as preceded the death of the most
ungrateful and thoughtless of monarchs, to read
his account of his daughter's usual occupations
and habits redeems the age.

MARY EVELYN. 307
" I can never forget," he says, " the inexpressible
luxury and profaneness, gaming and all dissolute
ness, and, as it were, total forgetfulness of God,
it being Sunday evening, which this night se'nnight
I was witness of. The King sitting and toying with
his favourites, Portsmouth, Cleveland and Mazarine,
&c. ; a French boy singing love-songs in that glo
rious gaUery, wUUst about twenty of the great
courtiers and other dissolute persons were at Basset
round a large table, a bank of at least two thousand
in gold before them, upon which two gentlemen
who were with me made reflexions with astonish
ment. Six days after, aU was in the dust !"
His daughter was now in her nineteenth year,
vsitty, lively, gentle, and amiable, tUe delight of her
famUy, and the admiration of aU. Highly accom
pUshed, and extremely intelligent and ready, French
was to her the same as her OAvn language ; indeed,
her mother, the daughter of Sir Richard Browne,
having been brought up abroad during the troubles,
was, probably, more French than English, and she
was an elegant ItaUan scholar : her father thus
describes her : —
" The justness of her stature, person, comeUness
of countenance, gracefulness of motion, unaffected,
though more than ordinarUy beautfful, were the
least of her ornaments, compared to those of her
mind. Of early piety, singularly reUgious, spending
X 2

308 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
a part of every day in private devotion, reading and
other virtuous exercises.
" She had read and digested a considerable deal
of history and of places. * * She was able to
render a laudable account of what she read and
observed, to which assisted a most faithful memory
and discernment ; and she did make very prudent
and discreet reflexions upon what she had observed
of the conversations among which she had beeri at
any time, which, being continually of persons of
the best quaUty, she thereby improved."
Her attainments in music were distinguished;
for, in that fastidious age, when foreign artists of
the greatest talent were constantly heard, she was
looked upon as a first-rate musician,
" She had an exceUent voice, to which she played
a thorough base on the harpsichord, in both which
she arrived to that perfection, that of the scholars
of those two famous masters, Signor Pietro and
Bartholomeo, she was esteemed the best : for the
sweetness of her voice and management of it
added such an agreeableness to her countenance,
without any constraint or concern, that when she
sung it was as charming to the eye as the ear :
this I rather note because it was a universal remark,
and for which so many noble and judicious persons
in music desUed to hear her, the last being at Lord
Arundel's of Wardour!'

MARY EVELYN. 309
Her cUeerfulness and kindness in her famUy
appear to have been delightful ; to the meanest ser
vant her condescension and consideration extending :
in case of sickness she was always ready to attend
ou and read to any of the household, and her plea
sure was to instruct and assist them on aU occasions.
Her wit was innocent and sprightly, without the
slightest alloy of bittemess or sarcasm : her taste
was delicate and refined; and tUough, with the
gaiety natural to her age, she was fond of theatrical
amusements to a certain extent, yet she usually
reproached herseff for spending her time so unpro
fitably. Her talent for letter-writing, at aU times a rare
gift, was remarkable; and she was celebrated in
her own private circle for the grace and spirit with
which she read poetry, particularly comic verse,
giving it the true meaning with infinite tact and
wit ; and, in dancing, she was not exceUed by any
lady of tUe Court ; although she shunned aU display,
and her attainments, in that particular, were chiefiy
developed in the gracefulness of her movements.
but who can do justice to the charms of this inter
esting creatm-e so weU as her father, who had to
deplore her loss, whUe he recounts her virtues ?
" Nothing affected, but natural and easy, as well
in her deportment as in her discourse, which was
always material, not trifling; and to which the
extraordinary sweetness of her voice, even in fami
liar speaking, was very charming.

310 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
" Nothing was so pretty as her descending to
play with little children, whom she would caress
and humour with great delight.
" But she most affected to be with grave and
sober men, of whom she might learn something and
improve herseff,
" I have been assisted by her in reading and
praying by me : comprehensive of uncommon
notions, curious of knowing everything, to some
excess, had I not sometimes repressed it,
" Nothing was so delightful to her as to go into
my study, where she would willingly have spent
whole days ; for, as I said, she had read abundance
of history, and all the best poets; even Terence,
Plautus, Homer, VirgU, Horace, Ovid,"
TUese studies are, indeed, somewhat beyond the
usual routine of a young girl's reading ; and,
perhaps, her father himself selected the portions he
wished her to become acquainted with in these
authors. He goes on to say that she had read all
the best romances and modem poems, and could
" compose happily and put in pretty symbols,
as in the ' Mundus Muliebris,'* wherein is an
enumeration of the immense variety of the modes
and ornaments belonging to the sex."
The unfortunate father, whose heart seemed set
on this precious object, then indulges in this pathetic
burst of grief : — * A Poem of his own.

MARY EA^ELYN. 311
" Oh dear, sweet, and desirable chUd, Uow shall
I part witU all this goodness and virtue without the
bitterness of sorrow, and reluctancy of a tender
parent ! Thy affection, duty, and love was to me
that of a friend as well as a child. Not less dear to
thy mother, whose example and tender care of thee
was unparaUeled; nor was thy return to her less
conspicuous. Oh ! how she mourns thy loss ! how
desolate thou hast left us ! To the grave shall we
both carry thy memory !"
Mary Evelyn was sought in marriage by no less
than four suitors ; but she did not appear to have
herseff selected any ; and when her father gave her
full choice, she expressed an inclination rather to
remain with her parents,
" Were I assured," said she to her mother, " of
your life and my dear father's, never would I part
with you : I love you and this home, where we
serve God, above all things, nor ever shall I be so
happy : I know and consider the vicissitudes of the
world ; I have some experience of its vanities, and,
but that you judge it expedient for me, I would not
change my condition, but rather add the fortune
you design me to my sister's, and to keep up the
reputation of our family."
A fatal visit to Lady Falkland, who had taken an
extraordinary fondness for her, was the cause of
that catastrophe which deprived the world of one
so young and yet so wise and good.

312 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Perhaps there was a little selfishness in the ap
parent attachment thus shovra, for, as the family of
Lord Falkland was musical, Mary Evelyn formed a
most useful and agreeable addition to their circle.
The visit which her father was induced to allow her
to make was greatly prolonged ; it being represented
to him that it was a pity to neglect so good an
opportunity of learning of Pietro, the fashionable
master, whose pupU she accordingly became.
"It was," continues Evelyn, "the end of Feb
ruary before I could prevaU witU my lady to part
with her : she expressed her wish to come home,
being tired of the vain and empty conversation of
the town, the theatres, the Court, a.rid trifling visits,
which consumed so much precious time, and made
her sometimes miss of that regular course of piety
that gave her the greatest satisfaction. She was
Avea^y of this life, and I think went not thrice to
Court all this time, except when her mother or I
carried her. She did not affect showing herself;
she knew the Court well, and passed one summer
in it at Windsor, witU Lady Tuke, one of the
Queen's women of the bed-chamber, a most virtuous
relation of hers ; she was not fond of that glittering
scene, now become abominably licentious, though
there was a design of Lady Rochestgr and Lady
Clarendon to have made her a maid of honour to
the Queen as soon as there was a vacancy. But
this she did not set her heart upon, nor indeed on

MARY EVELYN, 313
anything so much as the service of God, a quiet and
regular life, and how she might improve herself in
the most necessary accomplishments, and to which
she was arrived at so great a measure,"
Happy would it have been for the unfortunate
parents, had their daughter returned to them before
her mind and body had become harassed and
fatigued with this gaiety, of which she both disap
proved and had striven to get rid of.
Her friend. Lady Falkland, just before parting
with her, took her to pay one of those frivolous
visits of no importance, which at aU periods are
the resource of idle, fashionable society.
After they had been a good while in tUe house,
their hostess, with unfeeling thoughtlessness, merely
probably wanting a theme of discourse, told them
she had a servant lying sick of the smaU pox.
Mary Evelyn was instantly seized with that sort
of horror which so often occasions a fatal result,
and the impression was increased when she heard
that the servant died the next day.
She returned to her father's house only to die : —
the terrible disease showed itself too clearly ; and
at once it was evident that there was no hope.
" Thus," exclaims her bereaved father, " lived,
died, and was buried, the joy of my Ufe, and orna
ment of her sex, and of my poor famUy,"
Since tUe death of his charming and interesting
friend, Mrs, Godolphin, poor Evelyn seems never

314 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
to have had so sad a loss, and he laments it with
the deepest grief. Her papers showed the learn
ing and refinement of her mind, and he was sur
prised to find how, even beyond his expectations,
she had profited by her studies ; but, he adds,
" she was a little miracle wUile she lived, and so
she died !"
This is the brief history of an amiable creature,
who lived in an age when there were few like her,
and which produced more examples of high talent,
beauty, and grace perverted, than of modest merit
and unpretending piety.

<3^/!l^t^Aaj:^'i^.

LADY FANSHAWE.

A DEVOTED wife and mother, a woman fuU of
feminine quaUties and energetic resolution happUy
combined, the daughter of SU John Harrison, and
the cousin of Evelyn, must always excite a pleasing
interest when we foUow her in her fiights and her
wanderings, and accompany her in her simple and
clear descriptions of places and things which cir
cumstances, both of misfortune and prosperity,
made known to her. She has written her own
memoirs, which present a lively picture of the
time in which she lived, namely, during the civil
wars, when Charles and CromweU were strug
gUng for mastery, and when that most careless
and ungrateful of princes, Charles the Second, re
claimed his bUthright, and shuffled off the friends
who had gained it for him.
She relates minutely aU that occurred to her
husband and herseff; for it was then a time when
to write memoirs was considered a necessary

316 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
employment ; but, unlike the insufferable Duchess
of Newcastle, and the amiable but prosaic Countess
of Pembroke and Montgomery, her accounts are full
of life and grace, and the mixture of superstition
which accompanies her genuine piety is merely
entertaining, for her wonderful stories are really
good. At the outset of her biography, she relates
this anecdote of her mother, who died when she
had attained the age of fifteen, jn 1640,
After naming that her " ever honoured and
most dear mother's" funeral cost above a thousand
pounds, she speaks of Dr, Howlsworth, who, with
several other divines, was intimate in the family,
having preached her funeral sermon, " in which,
upon his own knowledge, he told, before many
hundreds of people, this " accident " foUoAving : —
" That my mother, being sick to death of a fever
three months after I was born, her friends and ser
vants thought, to all outward appearance, tUat she
was dead, and so lay about two days and a night ;
but Dr, Winston, coming to comfort my father, went
into her room, and, looking earnestly on her face,
said, ' She was so handsome and now looks so lovely,
I cannot think she is dead ; ' and suddenly took a
lancet out of his pocket, and with it cut the sole of
her foot, which bled. Upon this, he immediately
caused her to be laid upon the bed again, and to be
rubbed, and such means, as she came to life, and
opening her eyes saw two of her kinswomen stand

LADY FANSHAWE, 317
by her, my Lady KnoUys and my Lady RusseU,*
botU witU great wide sleeves, as the fashion then
was, and said :
" ' Did you not promise me fifteen years ? and
are you come again ? '
" Which they not understanding, persuaded her
to keep her spUits quiet in that great weakness
wherein she then was ; but, some hours after, she
desUed my father and Dr. tlowlsworth might be
left alone with her, to whom she said :
* In the Catalogue of the Portraits at Woburn, a lady is named
as Elizabeth, Baroness Russell, of Thornhaugh : and her picture,
by Lucas de Heere, is thus described by Mr. Wiffin : —
" Holding a fan of peacock's feathers, and apparelled in a black
dress, figured with white and gold ; a large plain ruff, and full
sleeves, upon one of which is a curious ornaraent of jewelry, repre
senting a naked man supporting a coronet, and bayed at by his
hounds ; whilst, on the other, is her monogram, E. R., hung
round with fulgent jewels,
" She was the daughter and sole heir of Sir Henry Long, of
Shengay, in Cambridgeshire, and, in 1583, married Sir William
Russell, fourth son of Francis, second Earl of Bedford, before he
was created Baron Russell, of Thornhaugh. When he was
appointed Lord Deputy of Ireland, she accompanied hira thither
and, as we learn from his diary, often attended him in his hunt
ing excursions to the moors and mountains, where the wild wolf
was the object of pursuit. Lady Fairfax, (this, of course, should
be Lady Fanshawe,) in her. Memoirs, relates a singular dream,
which was very remarkably ftilfilled, in which this Lady Russell
figures, with the same large sleeves, doubtless, in which she is
represented here. She was a lady of great piety, and left behind
her many ' holy meditations and religious comments on the Scrip
tures, dying with great resignation and sereneness, 12 June,1611.' "
As Lady Harrison died in 1640, she could scarcely be the kins
woman who stood by her bedside, unless the two she saw were
visions, as well as the rest.
It is singular how lamentably inaccurate authors are in dates ; by
that means confounding persons in a most perplexing manner.

318 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
" ' I will acquaint you, that during the time of
my trance, I was in great quiet, but in a place that
I could neither distinguish nor describe : but the
sense of leaving my girl, who is dearer to me
than aU my children, remained a trouble upon my
spirits, " ' Suddenly I saw two by me, clothed in long
white garments, and methought I feU down with
my face in the dust : and they asked me, Avhy I
was troubled in so great hajjpiness : I replied,
" Oh, let me have the same grant given to Heze
kiah, that I may live fifteen years to see my
daughter a woman ;" to which they answered, " It
is done," And then, at that instant, I woke out of
my trance.'
" And Dr. Howlsworth did there affUm, that that
day she died made just fifteen years from that time,"
Lady Harrison, on her recovery from this Ulness,
which had threatened to terminate so fatally, de
voted herseff to the education of this beloved child,
who had " all tUe advantages that time afforded,
both for 'working all sorts of fine work with my
needle," — which she places in the first rank of accom
plishments, — " and leaming French, singing, and the
lute, the virginals and dancing ; and, notAAithstand-
ing I learnt as well as most did, yet was I wUd to
that degree, that the hours of my beloved recreation
took up too much of my time ; for I loved riding
in the first place, running, and all active pas-

LADY FANSHAWE. 319
times : in short, I was that which we graver people
call a hoyt'lng girl ; but, to be just to myseff, I
never did mischief to myself or other people, nor
one immodest word or action in my Ufe, though
skipping and activity was my delight ; but upon
my mother's death, I then began to reflect, and, as
an offering to her memory, I flung away those Uttle
childishnesses that had formerly possessed me, and,
by my father's command, took upon me the charge
of his house and family, which I so ordered, by my
exceUent mother's example, as found acceptance in
his sight,"
Her brother, WiUiam Harrison, • who, together
Avith aU the famUy, was a stauncU royalist, she
describes as, in 1641, " sitting in the Commons'
House of Parliament ; but not long, for when the
King set up his standard he went with him to Not
tingham ; yet he, during his sitting, undertook that
my father should lend one hundred and forty thou
sand pounds to pay the Scots, that had then entered
England ; and, as it seems, were to be both payed
and prayed to go home ; but afterwards theu plague
infected the whole kingdom, as to all our sorrows
we know, and that debt of my father's remained to
him until the restoration of the king!'
Her father was plundered by the Long Parlia
ment, and aU his estates sequestered soon after this.
The account she gives of her uncomfortable position
at this time is striking, shared, doubtless, as it was,

320 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
by many ladies of the same rank, whose domestic
happiness was thus rudely disturbed.
" My father commanded my sister and myself to
come to him to Oxford, where the Court then was;
but we, that had tiU that hour lived in great plenty
and great order, found ourselves like fisUes Dut of
the water ; and the scene so changed, that we
know not at all how to act any part but obedience ;
for, from as good a house as any gentleman of
England had, we came to a baker's house, in an
obscure street, and from rooms well-furnished, to lie
in a very bad bed in a garret ; to one dish of meat,
and that not the best ordered ; no money, for we
were as poor as Job ; nor clothes, more than a man
or two brought in their cloak-bags : we had the
perpetual discourse of losing and gaining towns
and men : at the windows, the sad spectacle of war,
sometimes plague, sometimes sicknesses of other
kinds, by reason of so many people being packed
together, as I believe there never was before of that
quality ; always in want, yet I must needs say, that
most bore it with a martyr-like cheerfulness. For
my OAVU part, I began to think we should aU, like
Abraham, live in tents all the days of our Uves,"
It was at this very period of privation that Anne
Harrison met with her husband, and, in the midst
of depression and uncertainty, their union took
place ; their only prospect being that which hope
presented for the future, the present offering a

LADY FANSHAWE. 321
gloomy face indeed. However, she was married
with her " mother's wedding ring" to Sir Richard
Fanshawe, then named secretary-of-war to the
Prince, with a promise of promotion from the King,
as soon as his fortunes permitted him to reward
his servants ; but, she adds, gaUy, " botU his
fortune, and my promised portion of ten thou
sand pounds, were both, at that time, in expec
tation; and we might truly be called merchant-
adventurers, for the stock we set up our trading
with did not amount to twenty pounds betwixt us ;
but, however, it was to us as a little .piece of
armour is against a buUet, which, if it be right
placed, though no bigger than a shUling, serves as
weU as a whole suit of armour; so our stock
bought pen, ink, and paper, which was my hus
band's trade, and by it we lived better than those
that were born to two thousand pounds a year, as
long as he had his liberty."
Of Sir Richard's early life, his lively biograpUer
teUs several anecdotes, which occurred previous to
their marriage, amongst others, of his visit to Paris,
when the money, with which he was furnished Was
eighty pieces of gold, and French silver in his
pocket to the value of five pounds : his gold was
quilted in his doublet.
A modern traveller, even setting out by raU
road to Paris, in these degenerate days, would
not think it necessary to take such precautions with
so heavy a sum, although the denouement of the
VOL. II. \

322 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
story might not be very unlikely to happen, even
now. " He went by .post to lodgings in the Fauxbourg
St. Germain, with an intent to rest that night, and
the next day to find out his kindred ; but the devil,
that never sleeps, so ordered it, that two friars
entered the chamber Avherein he was, and wel
coming him, being his countrymen, invited him to
play ; he, innocently, only intending diversion, till
his supper was ready : but that was not their
design, for having engaged him, they left him not
as long as he was worth a groat, which, when they
discovered, they gave him five pieces of his money,
untu he could recruit ' himseff by his friends, which
he did the next day ; and from that time forward
never played for a piece."
The most singular part of the tale is to come : —
" It came to pass, that, seven years after, my
husband being in Huntingdonshire, at a bowling-
green, with Sir Capel BedeUs, and many other per
sons of quality, one in the company was caUed
Captain Taller. My husband, who had a very quick
and piercing eye, marked him much, as knowing
his face ; and found, through the peruke-wig, and
scarlet cloak, and buff suit, that he was neither
CaptaUi, nor TaUer, but the honest JesuU, caUed
Friar Sherwood, that had cheated him of the
greatest part of his money, and after lent him the
five pieces : so my husband went to him and gave

LADY PANSHAWE. 323
him his five pieces, and said, ' Father Sherwood,
I know you, and you know this ; ' at which he was
extremely sm-prised, and begged he would not dis
cover him, for his life was in danger."
Lady Fanshawe, whose memoirs are addressed to
her son, gives throughout curious details that dis
cover the habits of the times ; as when she mentions
her husband's allowance, as a younger brotber, being
considerable for the time, although but fifty pounds
a year ; and the sum which constituted his fortune
being one thousand five hundred pounds in money.
During Sir Richard's residence abroad he acquired
the continental languages, and was so conversant
in Spanish, that he obtained the appointment of
secretary of the Spanish embassy. She recounts
an adventure which befel him when on his retm'u
travelling post : it appears tUat he was much fa
tigued, and entered a house about five leagues from
Madrid, where he went to bed, intending to refresh
himself by sleeping for a few hours ; he did this so
effectuaUy, that his slumbers lasted uninterruptedly
while the house he was in was on fire, and the
whole vUlage busy clamouring to put it out. When,
at length, he waked, he found himself lying upon a
piece of timber on the highway, with his port
manteau and clothes by him, with not a single
article abstracted; so great was the honesty and
humanity of his host and his famUy, Avhose house
was burnt to the ground, Y 2

324 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
The promotion that Sir Richard Fanshawe looked
for, even at the period of his marriage, was checked
by Queen Henrietta Maria, who was his enemy;
and who knew well how to " scowl " on those she
did not like ; and who were displeasing to her
Catholic favourites : otherwise he would have been
placed as private Secretary about the Prince, which
the Queen opposed; always preferring her own
prejudices to her husband's interests.
Lady FanshaAve's lot, immediately after her
marriage, was sufficiently severe : she was left
behind while SU RicUard accompanied the Prince
to Bristol, and had neither money nor conveniences
suitable to her situation ; for she was then in her
first confinement. She bears aU as she may, — sick
ness, privation and sorrow, — and only dwells on her
delight when, at length, her husband is able to
send her funds to enable her to come to join him at
Bristol. She was greatly revived by the prospect
of their meeting; and, while preparations were
being made for her journey, as she and her relations
were walking in the garden of St, John's College,
Oxford, tUey heard the drums beat in the highway,
under the garden-wall.
" My father," she says, " asked me if I would go
up upon the mount to see the soldiers march ; for
it was Sir Charles Lee's company of Foot — an
acquaintance of ours : I said 'Yes,' and went up,
leaning my back to a tree that grew on the mount.

LADY FANSHAWE. 325
The commander, seeing us there, in compliment,
gave us a voUey of shot ; and, one of their muskets
being loaded, shot a brace of bullets not two inches
above my head, as I leaned to the tree ; for which
mercy and deliverance I praise God."
While she was with her husband at Bristol, she
was in the society of several ladies who were much
more experienced and greater politicians than
herseff; and who laid a plan to make her useful
in procuring from the secretary any information
they wished to have : these plotters were Lady
Rivers, Lady Aubigny, and Lady Isabella Thynne,
who began by speaking in admiring terms of
females who understood state affairs; until the
young wife began to feel ambitious to become as
knowing and as useful as tUese ladies represented
each other to be. She gives the scene of her first
attempt at diplomacy, with amusing simplicity : —
" I that was young and innocent, and to that
day had never in my mouth ' What news ?' began
to think there was more in enquUing into public
affairs than I thought of; and that it being a
fashionable thing would make me more beloved
qf my husband, if that had been possible, than I
was. When my husband returned home from
CouncU, after welcoming him, as his custom ever
was, he went with his hand fuU of papers into his
study for an hour or more : I foUowed him — he
turned hastily and said, ' What wouldst thou have.

326 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
my Ufe ?' — I told him I heard the prince had
received a packet from the Queen, and I guessed
it was that in his hand, and I desired to know what
Avas in it : he smUingly replied — ' My love, I will
immediately come to thee; prithee go, for I am
very busy.'
" When he came out of his closet I revived my
suit ; he kissed me, and talked of other things. At
supper / loould eat nothing ; he, as usual, sat by
me, and drank often to me, which was his custom ;
and was full of discourse to company that was at
table. " Going to bed I asked again, and said I could
not believe he loved me, if he refused to tell me aU
he knew ; but he answered nothing ; but stopped
my mouth with kisses."
The lady seemed determined, as Desdemona
professed she would do, to
" Watch him tame, to talk him out of patience.
To intermingle everything he did
With this, her suit,"
But the stoical Sir Richard, who no doubt saw
there were other actors behind the scenes, who
were prompting the debutante, was proof against
her pouting, and even her tears and reproaches.
At length, determined to put an end to her impor
tunity, and his own danger at once, he ended by
embracing and saying to her : —
" My dearest soul, nothing on earth can afflict

LADY FANSHAWE. 327
me like your saying ' I do not care to see you
troubled;' and, when you asked me of my busi
ness, it was wholly out of my power to satisfy
thee ; for my life and fortune shall be thine, and
every thought of my heart, in which the trust I am
in may not be revealed ; but my honour is my own,
which I cannot preserve, if I communicate the
Prince's affairs : and prithee, with this answer
rest satisfied."*
" So great was his reason and goodness that,
upon consideration, it made my folly appear to me
* The Lady Isabella Thynne, raentioned in this scene, figures
in rather a singular manner in au anecdote told in the " Life of
Cromwell," in which the author, the descendant of the Protector,
labours hard to prove the kindness ofhis heart, and his lenity.
" Some one had acquainted Cromwell, for he had active spies
everywhere, that Lady Ormonde had been practising against his
government, with her husband ; upon which Lady Ormonde's
papers were presently seized, she living at that tirae in London.
This lady had no friend to speak for her, but Lord Broghill, and,
therefore, appUed herself to him. His lordship immediately went
to Cromwell, but, before he could speak to him, Cromwell began
with his lordship, saying, in an angry, taunting way, ' You have
undertaken, indeed, for a fine person — the Lady Ormonde is con
spiring, with her husband, against me, though, by your procure
ment, I have allowed her two thousand pounds per annum, of
her husband's estate, because they are sufferers in Ireland ; but
I find she is a wicked woman, and she shall not have a farthing
of it, and I will have her carted besides.'
" My lord, seeing Cromwell in this fury, gave a soft answer,
and said he was sorry my Lady Ormonde had given occa
sion for such a disturbance ; he could not tell what to think of
it, but he humbly desired to know what grounds he had for so
severe a censure on the lady. Cromwell answered, ' Enough,
for he had letters under her hand for it;' and then threw hira a
letter to peruse, which had been found in rifling the cabinet. My
lord read the letter, and smiled ; CromweU asked him what he
thought of it. His lordship replied, ' It was a mistake ; for that

328 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
SO vUe, that from that day ^to the day of his death,
I never thought fit to ask him any business, but
what he communicated freely to me, in order to his
estate and famUy,"
Sir RicUard, whose prudence and conscientious
dealings were, no doubt, appreciated, was at this
time advanced to the position he desired, for the
Prince's private secretary, Mr. Long, was suspected
of holding communication with the Earl of Essex,
and, consequently, dismissed.
Lady Fanshawe's home travels then begin ; and
her remarks on the different places and people she
sees are fuU of naivete.
"About July, this year, 1645, the plague in
creased so fast in Bristol that the Prince and aU Uis
retinue went to Barnstable, wUich is one of the
finest towns in England ; and your father [she is
addressing her son] and I went two days after
the Prince, for during 'all the time I was in the
Court, I never journeyed but either before him,
or when he was gone, nor ever saw him but at
church, for it loas not, in those days, the fashion
was not lady Ormonde's handwriting, but Lady Isabella Thynne's,
between whom and the Lord of Ormonde there had been some
intrigues.' "Cromwell immediately asked how this could be proved:
Lord Broghill answered, he could easUy do that, by showing him
some letters of Lady IsabeUa's, by which he soon convinced
CromweU so fully, that his anger was turned into a merry drollery,
and the Lady Ormonde had her estate and liberty continued her,
which kindness the marchioness heartUy acknowledged. " — Morris's
Life of Lord Broghill.

LADY FANSHAWE. 329
for honest women, except they had business, to visit
a man's Court!'
This modesty and propriety the Prince contrived
very soon to get the better of, in most instances.
Lady Fanshawe must have seen with infinite dis
gust the difference of manners afterwards intro
duced ; she continues : —
"I saw here, at Mr. Palmer's, who was a
merchant, a parrot above a hundred years old.
They have near this town a fruit called a massard,
like a cherry, but different in taste, and makes the
best pies with their sort of cream I ever ate. My
Lady Capell here left us, and, with a pass from
the Earl of Essex, went to London vvith her eldest
daughter, now Marquesse of Worcester.
" Sir Allan Apsley was governor of the town,
and we had all sorts of good provision and accom
modation ; but the Prince's affairs caUing him from
that place we went to Launceston, in Cornwall,
and thither came very many gentlemen of that
county to do theu duties to his Highness ; they
were generally loyal to the Crovra, and hospitable
to theu neighbours, but they are of a crafty and
censorious nature, as most are so far from London.
That country hath great plenty, especially of fish
and fowl, but nothing near so fat and sweet as
within forty miles of London. We were quartered
at Truro, in which place I had like to have been
robbed.

330 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" One night, having with me but seven or eight
persons, my husband being then at Launceston
with his master, somebody had discovered that he
had a little trunk of the Prince's in keeping, in
which were some jewels that tempted them to us
assay ; but, praised be God, I defended, with the
few servants I had, the house so long, that help
came from the town to my rescue, which was not
above a flight shot from the place where I dwelt ;
and, the next day, upon my notice, my husband
sent me a guard by his Highness's command."
The Prince, and aU his suite, and most of his
friends, were soon obliged to leave CornwaU, and some
of them directed their course to the rugged shores
of haunted Brittany, where the evil faUies, looking
from their frightful rocks, welcomed the ill fortune
of the Stuarts ; and, in their assumed shape of sea-
birds,* shrieked round the vessels in which the
fugitives sought that savage coast, driven by the fury
of the winds and waves into a creek, two leagues
from Moriaix, upon the 28th of March, 1646.
The Prince himself embarked from the Land's
End for the Isles of Scilly, and Lady FansUawe
and her fanUly did the same. She, was forced to
leave her house and furniture in the care of a cer
tain Captain Bluett, who afterwards pretended that
he had been plundered of every thing, " although it
was well known that he had lost nothing of his own."
* Breton superstitions.

LADY PANSHAWE. 331
Added to this, they were robbed of all the
money and valuables they had by the mutinous
sailors on board their ship, by which they lost
about three hundred pounds, which, in theu state,
was a sad distress. At length, they were set on
shore in the Island of SciUy.
" And when we got to our quarters, near the
Castle, where the Prince lay, I went immediately
to bed, [she was then near her second confine
ment,] which was so vile tUat my footman ever
lay in a better, and we bad but tUree in tUe whole
house, which consisted of four rooms, or rather
partitions, two low rooms, and two little lofts,
witU a ladder to go up. In one of these they kept
dried fish, which was his (the host's) trade ; and
in this my husband's two clerks lay; one there
was for my sister, and one for myself, and one,
amongst the rest, for the servants : but when I
waked in the morning, I was so cold, I knew not
what to do ; but the day-ligUt discovered tUat my
bed was near swimming in the sea, which the
OAATier told us afterwards it never did so but at
spring -tide. With this, we were destitute of
clothes, meat, and fuel ; there was not in the whole
island the means of serving half the Court for a
month ; and truly we begged our daily bread of
God, for we thought every meal our last. The
councU sent for provisions from France, which
served us, but they were bad, and Uttle of them ;

832 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
then, after three weeks and odd days we set sail
for the Isle of Jersey, where we safely arrived,
praised be God, beyond the belief of all the be
holders from that island ; for the pUot, not knoAving
the way into the harbour, sailed over the rocks, but
being spring-tide, and, by chance, high water, (God
be praised,) his Highness, and all of us, came safe
ashore through so great a danger."
What a picture of desolation do these scenes
present ! and how little sympatUy can one fe^^l for
a man who could, in his prosperity, forget all that
his friends and theu famUies had undergone for
his sake. But it is rare, indeed, that adversity
teaches gratitude to princes.
Lady Fanshawe bore aU Avith the greatest sweet
ness and patience, and her cheerfulness rises above
all tUe vexations and privations they meet with.
Heniretta Maria insisted on her son's joining her
in Paris, which he did ; and Fanshawe and his wife,
after remaining long enough in Jersey for her
recovery from her confinement, separated, he to
Caen, to his brother, and she, on a venture, to
England, to endeavour to procure a sum of money.
Her husband afterwards foUowed her, and, in
great discomfort, they remained in concealment for
some time, afraid of being discovered and im
prisoned, and unable to rejoin the Prince,
Whenever Lady Fanshawe was in the greatest
strait, it was sure to be increased by another

LADY FANSHAWE. 333
confinement, which was her case at this time, July,
1647 — the period when Charles I. was persuaded to
leave Hampton Court secretly, as he did.
" During his stay at Hampton Court," says the
wife of his devoted servant, " my husband was with
him, to whom he was pleased to talk much of his
concerns, and gave him three credentials for Spain,
with private instructions and letters for his service ;
but God for our sins disposed his Majesty's affairs
otherwise. I went three times to pay my duty to
him, both as I was the daughter of his servant, and
the wife of his servant. The last time I ever saw
him, when I took my leave, I could not refrain
from weeping : when he had saluted me, I prayed
God to preserve his Majesty with long Ufe and
happy years : he stroked me on the cheek, and said,
' ChUd, if God pleaseth it shall be so, but both you
and I must submit to God's wUl, and you know in
wUat Uands I am ;' then, turning to your father, he
said, ' Be sure, Dick, to tell my son all that I have
said, and deliver tUese letters to my wife; pray
God bless her ! I hope I shall do weU.'
" And, taking him in his arms, said, ' Thou hast
ever been an honest man, and I hope God will
bless thee, and make thee a happy servant to my
son, whom I have charged in my letter to continue
his love and trust in you ; ' adding, ' I do
promise you that if ever I am restored to my
dignity, I wiU bountifuUy reward you both for your

334 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
service and sufferings.' Thus did we part from-
that glorious sun, that within a few months after
was murdered, to the grief of all Christians that
were not forsaken of God."
CromweU has been accused of much treachery
towards King Charles at this time. It is said that
he had hitherto espoused the King's interests, and
had gone so far as secretly to make a compact with
Charles,* " that if the King closed with the army's
proposals, he should be made Earl of Essex, knight
of the Garter, and first Captain of the Horse
Guards, and Ireton was to be made Lieutenant of
Ireland." Other honours and employments were likewise
stipulated for Cromwell's family and friends. But
the King was so uxorious that he could do nothing
without the advice of his Queen, who, not liking
tUe proposal, he sent a letter to acquaint her, " that
though he assented to the army's proposals, yet, if
by so doing he coiUd procure peace, it would be
easier then to take off Cromwell than now he was
the head that governed the army."
Cromwell, who had spies upon every motion of
the King, intercepted this letter, and thereupon
resolved never to trust Charles more.
On this it is said CromweU, in pretended kind
ness, informed the King that he was not in safety
at Hampton Court, and advised his escape, as he
• Life of Cromwell.

LADY PANSHAAVE. 335
feared he could not manage his designs if he
remained so near to Parliament : he persuaded him
that he would be more out of the reach of his
enemies at the Isle of Wight, and Charles, unfortu
nately, listened to his counsel : this is asserted by
Father Orleans, but his testimony is rather doubt
ful. Lord Clarendon himseff says, that CroniAveU
complained that the King could not be trusted ; and
the author of Lord Broghill's Memoirs relates a
discourse which passed between him and Cromwell
wUilst he Avas in Ireland, in 1650,
He informs us that the subject of the King's
death having arisen between Cromwell and Ireton,
Cromwell said, " tUat if the King had followed his
own mind, and had had trusty servants about him,
he had fooled them aU ;" adding, " We had once
an inclination to Uave come to terms witU him, but
something that happened drcAv us off from it."
The Lord BroghUl, seeing tUey were both in good
humour, asked, " Why, if they were inclined to
close with him, they had not done it ;" upon which
Cromwell frankly told Uim —
" The reason of our inclination to come to terms
was, we found the Scots and Presbyterians began
to be more powerful than we, and Avere strenuously
endeavouring to strike up an agreement Avith the
King, and leave us in the lurch; whereupon we
thought to prevent them by offering more reason
able conditions. But, whUst Ave were busy with

336 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
these thoughts, there came a letter to us from one
of our spies, who was of the King's bedchamber,
acquainting us that our final doom was decreed
that day ; what it was he could not tell, but a letter
was gone to the Queen, with the contents of it,
which letter was sewed up in the skUt of a saddle,
and the bearer of it would come, the foUowing
night about ten o'clock, with a saddle upon his
head, to the Blue Boar inn, in Holborn, where he
was to take horse for Dover. The messenger knew
nothing of the letter in the saddle, but some one
in Dover did.
" We were then at Windsor, and immediately
Ireton and I resolved to take a trusty feUow with
us, and, in trooper's habits, to go to the inn ; which
we did accordingly, and set our men at the gate
of the inn to watch. The gate was shut, but the
wicket was open, and our men staid to give us
notice when any one came with a saddle upon his
head. Ireton and I sat in a box near the wicket
and called for a can of beer, and tUen another,
drinking in that disguise till ten o'clock, wUen our
sentinel gave us notice that the man with a
saddle was come : upon which we immediately
rose, and when the man was leading out his horse,
saddled, we came up to him, with our swords
drawn, and told him we were to search all who
went in and out there ; but, as he looked like an
honest fellow, we would only search his saddle,
which we did, and found the letter we looked for,

LADV FANSHAWE. 337
and, opening it, read the contents, in which the
King acquainted the Queen that he was now
courted by both the factions, the Scots- presbyte-
rians, and the army : that which of them bid
fauest for hUn should have him : that he though t
he coiUd close sooner with the Scots than the other*
Upon which we speeded to Windsor, and finding
we were not Ukely to have any tolerable terms
from the King, we immediately resolved to ruin
him," WeUwood, in his memous, tells much the same
circumstances, observing —
" As everything did contribute to the faU of
King Charles I,, so did every thing contribute to
the rise of Cromwell ; and as there was no design
at first against the King's lffe, so it is probable
that CromweU Uad n© thoughts, for a long time, of
ever arriving at what he afterwards was,
"It is known he was once in treaty with the
King, after the army had carried his Majesty away
from Holmby-House, to have restored him to. the
throne : which, probably, he would have done if
the secret had not been like to take vent by the
indiscretion of some about the King, which pushed
CromweU on to prevent his own by the ruin of the
King," Certain it is, that a few days after the King's
leaving Hampton Court, when there was a meeting
of the general officers of the army at Windsor, it
VOL, II. z

338 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
was resolved that Charles should be prosecuted
for his life as a criminal ; and at tUat time Crom
well spoke very bitterly against him, declaring,
" That he was a man of great understanding, but
withal so great a dissembler and so false a man
that he was not to be trusted."
Milton endeavours to vindicate CromweU from
tUe charge of having advised the King to the flight
from Hampton Court, and adds : —
" I admire those cavaliers who never stick to
affirm so often, that Charles was one of the most
prudent persons living, and yet the same man was
hardly ever at his own disposal : that whether with
his enemy or his friend, in the Court or in the camp,
he was almost always in the power of another :
now of his wife, then of the bishops, now of the
peers, then of the soldiery, and last, of his enemies :
that for the most part he foUowed the worser
counsels, and, almost always, of the worser men,
Charles is persuaded : Charles is imposed on :
Charles is deceived; fear is impressed on him;
vain hope is set before him : Charles is carried and
fetched about as ff he was the common prey of
all, both friends and enemies ! But let them either
blot these things out of their writings, or else give
over trumpeting up the sagacity of Charles."
Whatever were the errors and faults of King
Charles, certain it is, that no man ever inspired
more affection, reverence, and pity, in the minds of

L.iDY PANSHAWE. 339
his friends than he did ; and amongst the number
were Sir Richard Fanshawe and his wffe, who, after
their affecting interview, once more embarked for
France, having narrowly escaped being shot as they
were waiting at Portsmouth to take their passage ;
some Dutch ships firing so close to them, that they
had nearly reached them on the beach.
" We heard them," she writes, " whiz by us, at
which I caUed to my Uusband to make baste back,
and began to run ; but Ue altered not his pace, say
ing, ' If we must be kiUed, it were as good to be
killed walking as running,' "
WUen they returned again to England, she speaks
of meeting the Marchioness of Ormond in London,
newly come out of France, who received her with
great kindness, " as she had ever done before ; and
told me she must love me for many reasons ; and
one was, that we were both born in one chamber :
when I left her, she presented me with a ruby ring
set with two diamonds, which she prayed me to
wear for her sake, and I have it to this day."
The following passage is an iUustration of the
treachery which was always at work in the royalist
army. "•In the month of September my husband was
, commanded by the Prince to wait on him in the
Downs, where he was with a very considerable
fieet ; but the fleet was divided, part being for the
z 2

340 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
King and part for the Parliament : they were re
solved to fight that day, which if they had, it
would have been the most cruel fight that ever
England knew ; but God by his wiU parted them
by a storm ; and afterwards it was said Lord Cole-
pepper, and one Low, a surgeon, that was a reputed
knave, so ordered the business that, for money, the
fleet was betrayed to the enemy. During this time
my husband wrote me a letter, from on board the
Prince's ship, fuU of concern for me, believing tUey
should engage on great odds ; but if he should lose
his life, advised me to patience ; and this with so
much love and reason, that my heart melts to this
day when I think of it ; but, God be praised, he
was reserved for better things,"
On her next visit to France — for she seemed at
this time to pass her life in journeys backwards and
forwards — Lady Fanshawe was received with great
kindness by the Queen, Henrietta Maria, and her
Uttle Court in Paris ; amongst whom was Waller,
the poet, and his wife. She speaks also of that
eccentric person. Sir Kenelm Digby, who at the
governor's table at Calais entertained the company
with some of those extravagant stories, which
earned for him from Evelyn the title of "an arrant
mountebank," " AU his stories," says Lady Fanshawe, " passed
with great applause and wonder of the French then
at table; but the concluding one was that bar-

LADY PANSHAWE. 341
nacles, a bird in Jersey, was first a shell-fish in
appearance, and from that, sticking upon old wood,
became in time a bird. After some consideration,
they unanimously bm'st out into laughter, believing
it altogetUer false : and, to say the truth, it was the
only thing true he had discoursed with them : that
was his infirmity, though otherwise a person of most
exceUent parts, and a very fine bred gentleman,"
Sir Kenelm seemed always wandering about tUe
Avorld for the amusement of traveUers, for every one
seems at one time or other to have met with him ;
and though he was never believed, he afforded
great deliglit by Uis marveUous relations to his in
credulous hearers, Evelyn, more than once, in his
rambles, picks him up, and dweUs on Uis stories ;
which, as they had reference to science, he found
an excuse in listening to. He tells us on one occa
sion : —
" I visited Sir Kenelm Digby, witU whom I had
much discourse of chymical matters, I showed him
a particular way of extracting oil of sulphur, and
he gave me a certain powder, with which he affumed
that he had fixed g (mercury) before the late King,
He gave me a water, which he said was only rain
water of the autumnal equinox exceedingly rectified,
very volatile ; it Uad a strong taste of vitrioUq, and
smelt like aquafortis. He intended it for a dis
solvent of calx of gold ; — ^but the truth is. Sir
Kenelm Avas an arrant mountebank ! "

342 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
That Evelyn, in common with most persons who
pretended to science in his time, was at least a half
believer in the fascinating mystery of the philoso
pher's stone, is evident by his attending the lec
tures of aU the professors, wherever he found them;
he teUs one story, which has a certain charm about
it, and which, very likely, was one of those repeated
by Sir Kenelm in the hearing of Lady Fanshawe.
" I went to one Marc Antonio, an incomparable
artist in enamelling. He wrought by the lamp
figures in bosse of a large size, even to the life, so
that nothing could be better moulded. He told us
great stories of a Genoese jeweUer, who had the
Great Arcanum, and had made projection before him
several times. He met him at Cyprus, traveUing
into Egypt ; in his return from whence he died at
sea, and the secret with him; that else he had
promised to leave it to him : that all his effects were
seized on and dissipated by the Greeks in the
vessel, to an immense value.
" He also affirmed that, being in a goldsmith's
shop at Amsterdam, a person of a very low stature
came in, and desired the goldsmith to melt him a
pound of lead, which done, he unscrewed the
pummel of his sword, and, taking out of a little
box a smaU quantity of powder, casting it into tUe
crucible, poured an ingot out, which, when cold, he
took up, saying : ' Sir, you will be paid for your
lead in the crucible ;' and so Avent out Unmediately.

LADY FANSHAWE. 343
" When he Avas gone, the goldsmith found fom*
ounces of gold in it ; but could never set eye again
on the little man, though he sought all the city for
him. This Antonio asserts Avith great obtestation,
nor know L ivhat to think of it, there are so many
impostors and people who love to tell strange
stories, as this artist did, who had been a great
rover, and spake ten different languages."
Lady Fanshawe's perilous voyages, in search of
money to assist the King's cause, were continually
repeated; and with each peril her spirit seemed to
increase; so that, except the Queen of Bohemia,
few females went through so many dangers, and
had to support so much hardship. She endured
aU cheerfully, for the sake of her husband and the
King; and, with a sad heart, had to leave one
chUd after anotUer in different friends' care, wUile
she exposed herseff to every sort of annoyance.
Her landing in Ireland, where she met her husband
after an absence, she relates Avith great feeling ;
and describes tUe brief interval of comfort and
repose, wbich was their lot, at Red Abbey, a house
of Dean Boyle's, in Cork, from whom they met
AAith much kindness ; and Lord Ormond, having at
that time a good army, they began to imagine
themselves in security. It was, however, far other-
vise ; and, to their amazement and terror, they
heard of the landing of Cromwell, who, she says :
" So hotly marched over Ireland, that the fieet

344 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
with Prince Rupert was forced to set sail ; and,
witUin a short time after, he lost all his riches, —
which was thought to be worth hundreds of thou
sands of pounds — in one of his best ships, com
manded by his brother Maurice ; who, with many
a brave man sunk — were all lost in a storm at sea."
SU Richard had left his wife, at their retreat at
the Red Abbey, secure, as he thought, from all
molestation, AvhUe he went on business to Kinsale :
she was then again near her confinement; and,
having been thrown from her horse, had broken her
left wrist ; which, being set by an unsldfful sur
geon, gave her great pain ; and she was in her bed
when the news reached her that Cork had revolted.
This was the beginning of November, 1650.
She thus relates her difficulties on tUis trying
occasion ; and proves what presence of mind,
heroism, and resolution she possessed :
"At midnight I heard the great guns go off;
and, therefore, I caUed up my famUy to rise;
which I did as weU as I could in that condition.
Hearing lamentable shrieks of men, Avomen, and
children, I asked at a window the cause ; they told
me they were aU IrisU, stripped and wounded, and
turned out of tUe town ; and that Col, Jefferies,
with some others, had possessed themselves of the
tOAvn for Cromwell, Upon tUis I immediately wrote
a letter to my Uusband, blessing God's providence
that he was not there with me ; persuading him to

LADY PANSHAWE. 345
patience and hope, that I should get safely out of
the town, by God's assistance ; and desired him to
shift for himself, for fear of a surprise, with
promise that I would secure liis papers.
" So soon as I had finished my letter, I sent it
by a faithful servant, who was let down the garden
AA^all of Red Abbey; and, sheltered by the darkness
of the night, he made his escape. I immediately
packed up my husband's cabinet, with aU his
writings, and near one thousand pounds in gold
and silver, and aU other things, both of clothes,
linen, and household stuff, that were portable, of
value : and then, about three o'clock in the
morning, by the ligUt of a taper, and in that pain I
was in, I went into the nlarket-place, with only a
man and maid, and, passing through an unruly
tumult — Avith their swords in their hands — searched
for theu chief commander, Jefferies, who, whUst Ue
was loyal, Uad received many civUities from your
father. I told him it was necessary that, upon that
change, I should remove ; and I desired his pass,
that would be obeyed, or else I must remain there :
I hoped he would not deny me that kindness. He
instantly wrote me a pass, both for myseff, family,
and goods ; and said he would never forget the
respect he owed your father.
" With this I came, through thousands of naked
swords, to Red Abbey, and hUed the next neigh
bour's cart, which carried aU that I could remove ;
and myself, sister, and little gUl, Nan, witU three

346 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
maids and two men, set forth at five o'clock, in
November; having but two horses amongst us all,
which we rid on by turns.
" In this sad condition I left Red Abbey ; leaving
behind as many goods as were worth a hundred
pounds, which could not be removed, and so were
plundered. We went ten miles, to Kinsale, in
perpetual fear of being fetched back again ; but, by
little and little, I thank God we got safe to the
garrison; where I found your father the most
disconsolate man in the world, for fear of his
family, which he had no possibility to assist : but
his joys exceeded to see me and his darling
daughter, and to hear the wonderful escape we,
through the assistance of God, had made.
" But, when the rebels went to give an account
to Cromwell of their meritorious act, he imme
diately asked them where Mr. Fanshawe was ?
They replied he was that day gone to Kinsale.
Then he demanded where his papers and his family
were? At which they all stared one at anotUer,
but made no reply. Their General said : ' It was
as much worth to have seized his papers as the
town, for he did make account to have known by
them what these parts of the country are worth,"
Sir Richard was, immediately after this, ordered
to Spain by the King ; and, passing through Lime
rick, was a witness to the sad fate of Lord Ros
common, which happened thus : Lord Roscommon

LADY FANSHAWE, 347
Avas ChanceUor of Ireland at that time ; and he and
the Bishop of Londonderry, together with SU
Richard, were met together ; and had been writing
letters to the King, on the affairs of the kingdom.
As they did not wish a servant to be near. Lord
Roscommon lighted his guests himself at the stairs'
head ; and, whether his foot slipped, or Ue became
giddy, his lordship feU down tUe staffs ; and,
striking Uis head against a stone projection, was so
much injm^ed that he died five days afterwards.
This tragical event occasioned SU Richard to re
main in Ireland some time longer, as the great seals
were left with him, and he wanted the King's
dUections how to dispose of them. Lady Fan
shawe and her famUy were invited to stay at Lord
Inchiquin's till tUey Uad intelligence from CUarles,
wUo was in Holland; and probably the quiet and
comfort of theu sojourn in this hospitable house
restored her to health, and served to give her
strength for new exertions.
" By this time my Lord Lieutenant, the now
Duke of Ormond' s army was quite dispersed, and
himself gone for HoUand, and every person con
cerned in tUat interest shifting for theu Uves ; and
CromweU went through as bloodUy as victoriously,
many worthy persons being murdered in cold blood,
and theU families quite ruined."
TUeir next \isit was to the Lady Honor O'Brien's,
a daughter of the Earl of Thomond's, where one of

348 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
those mysterious adventures befel the authoress of
the curious and interesting memoUs which furnish
the minute particulars of her lffe : her own words
will best relate tUe startling scene wUich made so
Uvely an impression upon Uer.
" The first night we slept here I was laid in a
chamber, where I was surprised about one o'clock
by a voice that wakened me. I drew the curtain,
and, in the casement of the window, I saw by the
ligUt of tUe moon a woman, leaning into the window
through the casement, in white, with red haU, and
pale and ghastly complexion. She spoke loud, and
in a tone I had never heard, thrice — ' A horse !' *
and then with a sigh, more like the loind than
breath, she vanished; and to me her body looked
more like a thick cloud than substance. I was so
much frightened that my hair stood on end, and my
night-clothes feU off.
" I pulled and pincUed your fatUer, wUo never
woke during tUe disorder I was in; but, at last,
was mucU surprised to see me in tUis frigUt, and
more so when I related the story and showed him
the window opened. Neither of us slept any more
that night • but he entertained me by teUing me
how much more these apparitions were usual in
this country than in England. And we concluded
the cause to be the great superstition of the Irish,
* Perhaps, " O hone!"

LADY FANSHAWE, 349
and the want of that knowing faith, which should
defend them from the power of the devil, wUicU Ue
exercises amongst them very much.
"About five o'clock the lady ofthe house eame to
see us, saying, she had not been in bed all nigUt, be
cause a cousin O'Brien of Uer's, whose ancestors
had owned that house, had desired her to stay with
him in his chamber, and that he died at two
o'clock ; and she said, ' I wish you to have had no
disturbance, for it's the custom of the place, that
when any of the famUy are dying, the shape of a
woman appears in the window every night till tUey
be dead. This woman was many ages ago se
duced by the owner of this place, who murdered
her in his garden, and flung her into the river,
under this window ; but, truly, I thought not of it
when I lodged you here, it being the best room in
the house.'
" We made little reply to her speech, but dis
posed ourselves to be gone suddenly."
It having been arranged that the seals were for
the present to be given to Lord Inchiquin, their
next movement was towards Galway, rather a dan
gerous spot at the time, having recently been
severely visited by the plague ; however they ven
tured entering the fatal land, hearing that a ship
bound for Malaga was about to sail ; and, " Crom
weU pursuing his conquests at our backs," says the
lady, " my husband resolved to fall into tUe Uands of

350 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
God, rather than into the hands of man ; and with
his family of about ten persons, came to tUe toAvn at
tUe latter end of February, wUere we found guards
placed, tUat none sUould enter without certificates
from whence they came; but understanding that
your father came to embark himseff for Spain, and
that there was a merchant's house taken for us, that
was near the sea-side, and one of theu best ; they told
us, if we pleased to alight, they woiUd wait on us
to the place ; but it was long from thence, and no
horses were admitted into the town.
" An Irish footman that served us, said, ' I lived
here some years, and know every street, and like
wise know a much nearer way than these men can
show you, SU; therefore come with me, if you
please.' " We resolved to foUow Uim, and sent our horses
to stables in the suburbs ; he led us aU on the back
side of the town, under the walls, over wUicU tUe
people, during tUe plague, which was not yet quite
stopped, fiung out aU their dirt and rags ; and we
walked up to the middle of our legs in them, for
being engaged we could not get back. At last we
found the house, by the master standing at the
door expecting us, who said, ' You are welcome to
this disconsolate city, where you now see the streets
grovra over with grass, once the finest little city in
tUe world.' And, indeed, it was easy to tUink so ;
tUe buildings being unfformly buUt, and a very fine
market-place, and waUis arched and paved by the

LADY PANSHAWE. 351
sea-side for theu merchants to walk on, and a most
noble harbour.
" Our house was very clean ; only one maid in it
besides the master : we had a very good supper pro
vided, and, being very weary, went early to bed.
The ovraer of the house entertained us with the
story of the last Marquis of Worcester, who had
been there some time the year before : he had of his
own and other friends' jewels to the value of eight
thousand pounds, which some merchants had lent
upon them.
"My lord appointed a day for receiving the
money upon them, and delivering the jewels : being
met, he shows them all to tUese persons, then seals
them up in a box, and delivered tUem to one of
tUese merchants, by consent of the rest, to be kept
for one year, and, upon the payment of the £8,000
by my Lord Marquis, to be deUvered to him.
" After my lord had received the money, he was
entertained at aU tUese people's Uouses, and nobly
feasted with them near a month : he went from
thence into France. When the year was expired,
they, by letters into France, pressed the payment of
this borrowed money several times, alleging they
had great necessity of theu money to drive theu
trade vith; to which my lord marquis made no
answer, which dicl at last so exasperate these men
that they broke open the seals, and opening the
box fomid nothing but rags and stones for theu

352 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
eight thousand pounds, at which they were highly
enraged, and in this case I left them."
Lady Fanshawe expresses neither indignation nor
disgust at this nefarious proceeding, probably con
sidering that the money thus procured was for the
service of the royal cause, and, such being the case,
any stratagem was fau, TUe Marquis of Worcester
was a very singular cUaracter, and his ingenuity and
art are celebrated : he was employed by Charles I,,
who trusted him greatly, and sent Uim to Ireland,
to treat witU the people, and engage them in his
service in opposition to the Parliament,
Grainger says, " The other powers which were
granted him were of so extraordinary a nature as to
strike many of the royalists with astonishment."
Perhaps he was permitted by the King to practise
his skiU in sleight of hand for his benefit, as he
evidently had done in this instance of the jewels.
Sir Edward Hyde, in a letter to secretary Nicholas,
dated 1647, says,
" I care not how little I say in tliat business of
Ireland, since tUose strange powers and instructions
given to your favourite, Glamorgan [Ue bore tUat
title at tUe time] appear to me inexcusable to justice,
piety, and prudence, OU ! Mr, Secretary, tUose
stratagems Uave given me more sad Uours than all
tUe misfortunes in war wUich have befaUen the
King."* * Clarendon's State Papers.

LADY FANSHAWE. 353
Lord Worcester publisUed Uis " Century of In
ventions, or Scantlings!' in 1663, wUicU Avork,
tUough fuU of strange mysteries, contains, witUout
doubt, some wonderful discoveries, of which the
most remarkable is his hint respecting the steam-
engine, contemned at the time, and laughed at by
Horace Walpole. Perhaps he was indebted for the
idea to Solomon Caux, who had already imagined
it, and, Uke tUe marquis, was esteemed a visionary.
WUen Lady FansUawe and Uer famUy embarked
for Spain, their host took leave of them with rather
a startling adieu :
"I thank God," said he, "that you are all
gone safe aboard from my Uouse, notwithstanding
I have bmied nine persons out of it Avithin these
six months."
Her character of the Irish deserves to be re
marked, for it appears to have been then, as at all
times : trae, and pity is it that so fine and generous
a people should be constantly the mark for the
arrows of fate !
" We left that brave kingdom, faUen, in six or
eigUt months, into a most miserable sad condition,
as it hath been many times in most kings' reigns,
God knows why ; hit the natives seem to me a very
loving people to each other, and constantly false to
all strangers, tUe Spaniards alone excepted."
TUis last remark a little destroys, it must be con
fessed, the former compliment.
VOL. II. A A

354 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" We continued our way across the seas," says
the traveller, " with prosperous winds, but with a
most tempestuous master, a Dutchman, which is
enough to say ; but truly I think the greatest beast
I ever saw of his kind."
Besides this " tempestuous " animal, new dangers
threatened them, and the heroism of the lady was
again put to the proof.
" When we had just passed the Straits we saw,
coming towards us, with full saUs, a Turkish galley,
well rnanned, and we believed we should all be
carried away slaves, for tUis man Uad so laden his
ship with goods for Spain that his guns were use
less, though the ship carried sixty : he caUed for
brandy, and, after he had well drunken, and all his
men, which were near two hundred, he called for
arms, and cleared the deck as well as he could, re
solving to fight rather than lose his ship, which was
worth thirty thousand pounds : this was sad for us
passengers, but my husband bid us women be sure
to keep in the cabin, and not appear, which would
make the Turks think we were a man-of-war, but ff
they saw women, they would take us for merchants,
and board us. He went upon the deck, and took a
gun, and bandoliers, and sword, and, with the rest
of the ship's company, stood upon deck, expecting
the arrival of the Turkish vessel.
" TIds beast, the Captain, had locked me up in
the cabin ; I knocked an'd caUed long to no purpose,

LADY FANSHAWE. 355
untu at length the cabin-boy came and opened the
door : I, aU in tears, desired him to be so good as
to give me his blue thrum cap he wore, and his
tarred coat ; which he did, and I gave him half-a-
crown, and putting them on, and fiinging away my
night clothes, I crept up softly, as free from sickness
and fear as, I confess, from discretion : but it was
the effect of that passion which I could never master,
" By this time the two vessels were engaged in
parley, and so weU satisfied with speech and sight
of each other's forces that the Turk's man-of-war
tacked about, and we continued our course. But
when your father saw it convenient to retreat, look
ing upon me, he blessed himself, and snatched me
up in his arms, saying, ' Good God ! that love can
make this change !' and, though he seemingly chid
me, he would laugh at it as often as he remeinbered
that voyage."
They arrived safely, at last, at Malaga, and were
hospitably received by the merchants : fortunately,
aU theu own goods were landed ; for, three days
after, from the carelessness of a cabin boy — Lady
Fanshawe does not say whether it was her indulgent
friend — the ship they came in, belonging to " that
beast of a captain," was blown up in the har
bour, and a hundred lives lost, together with its
lading. After this providential escape, they dispose them
selves to journeying towards Madrid, passing by
A A 2

356 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Velez-Malaga and Granada, her description of which
is very animated and correct.
"The next day we went to Grenada, having
passed the highest mountains I ever saw in my lffe ;
but under this lieth the finest vaUey tUat can possibly
be described, adorned with high trees and rich grass,
and beautified with a large, deep, clear river. Here
standeth, above the town, the goodly vast palace of
the kings, called tUe Alhambra, whose buildings are,
after the fashion of the Moors, adorned with great
quantities of jasper stone : many courts, many foun
tains, and, by reason it is situated on the side of a
hUl, and not buUt uniform, many gardens witU ponds
in them, and many baths made of jasper, and many
principal rooms roofed with the mosaic work, which
exceed^ the finest enamel I ever saw.
" Here I was shown in the midst of a very large
piece of embroidery, made by the Moors of Grenada,
in the middle, as long as half a yard of the true
Tyrian dye, which is so glorious a colour that it
cannot be expressed; it hath the glory of scarlet,
the beauty of purple, and is so bright, that when
the eye is removed upon any other object, it seems
as white as snow.
" The entrance to this great palace is -of stone,
for a porter's lodge, but very magnificent, through
the court below, which is adorned with figures of
forest-work, in which the Moors did transcend."
She then relates the story of the carved hand and

LADY FANSHAWE. 357
keys, and the prophecy attached to them, which
every traveUer repeats ; but she seems to have heard
more in the famous cave than faUs to thedot of
most explorers.
" They have, in this place, an iron-gate, fixed
into the side of the hiU, tUat is a rock : I laid my
head to the key-hole, and heard a noise like the
clashing of arms, but could not distinguish other
shriU noises I heard with that ; but tradition says,
that it could never be opened since the Moors left
it, notwithstanding several persons had endeavoured
to wrench it open, but that they perished in the
attempt. The trath of this I can say no more to ;
but that there is such a gate, and I have seen it."
SU Richard's embassy did not succeed, for
PhUip IV. was by no means inclined to assist the
King with money, which was the object of the
journey. Lady Fanshawe had a daughter born at
Madrid, who died soon after, doubtless, to her
mother's sorrow; but she does not indulge in any
expressions of grief on her ovra account : all her
thoughts being apparently occupied with her hus
band's concerns, and those of England and its
exUed prince.
She alludes to the perpetration of a great out
rage, which, as the object of it was a person belong
ing to CromweU's party, does not appear to excite
her horror ; so melancholy a fact it is, that humanity
is stifled in the tenderest hearts, when the spirit of
party is aUowed to prevaU.

368 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
A person named Askew Avas sent out from
Cromwell as resident at Madrid : he lodged at a
common inn where travellers were accustomed to
resort. It happened that some hot-headed EngUsh
men of the royal party meeting together, began to
discuss the conduct of this envoy, reprobating it as
insolent and unbearable that rebels should dare to
send a public minister to a Court, where there were
already two ambassadors from the King. Growing
very violent in their debate, they finally concluded
that it was a disgrace to the name of an Englishman
to peraait such an indignity, and agreed to go in a
body to the inn where the unfortunate man was,
and sacrifice him to theu offended honour.
Askew was sitting at dinner when these ruffians
rushed in, and all faUing upon Uim, unprepared as
Ue was, dispatched him immediately, and then each
separated theU several ways.
Lady Fanshawe reserves all Uer commiseration in
tUis affair for one of tlie murderers, a Mr. Sparks,
au English merchant, who flying to a church for
sanctuary, was dragged forth by the Spaniards,
and publicly executed, " notwitUstanding," she
remarks, " that it was contrary to their reUgion
and laws." She does not inform the world by
what religion and by wbat laws the assassin was
dUected. She introduces, at this period of her narrative, a
curious character — the Lord Goring — remarkable for
his wickedness and profligacy, combined with a

LADY FANSHAWE. 359
singular modesty of demeanoiu, which duped and
fascinated every one : —
" He was then commanding under PhUip tUe
Fourth against the Portuguese, and was generally
esteemed a good and great commander, had been
brought up in Holland in his youth, and possessed
vast natural parts ; for I have heard your father say,
he hath dictated to several persons at once that
were upon despatches, and aU so admuably weU,
tUat none of them could be mended. He was
exceedingly facetious and pleasant company; and
in conversation, where good manners were due, the
civilist person imaginable, so that he ivould blush
like a girl. He was very taU and very Uandsome,
had married a daughter of the Earl of Cork, but
had no chUdren : Uis expenses were wliat Ue could
get, and his licentiousness beyond aU precedents,
which, at last, lost him that love the Spaniards had
for him; and that country not admitting his con
stant drinking, Ue fell sick of a Uectic fever, in
which he turned his religion (fj, and with that
artifice could scarce get to keep him while he lived,
or bury him when he was dead."
Lord Goring was, in fact, though a man of
courage and good abiUties, unfit for command, and
fearfuUy dangerous as an example. He was totaUy
devoid of every sort of principle. Wherever he
appeared vsith his army, nothing but ruin and
ravage foUowed, and he served the enemy much

360 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
more than his ovra cause. Yet he did service at
Marston Moor, and defended Colchester with great
bravery. He lost his estates, and retUed, during
the Interregnum, to the little Court of Charles IL,
where his profiigate habits found admUers and
imitators. Notwithstanding the well-known worth
lessness of his character, his manners were so
deligUtful, tUat it was said that those who hated
his vices could not dislike Uis person.
As the travellers were now destined to Paris,
tliey went to St. Sebastian, and tUere hUed a small
French vessel to take them to Nantes. Lady
Fanshawe describes their voyage as a most fearful
one, tossing about in the Bay of Biscay, without
rudder or compass, and the saUors half wUd between
terror and drunkenness. Their reaching land was
almost a miracle, and arriving at Nantes also, after
all tUeir privations and perils. She describes the
now fiourishing and beautfful town of Nantes as
" a passable good tovra, but decayed ; some monas
teries in it, but none good, nor rich." The gorgeous
Cathedral seems entUely to have escaped her notice,
but she seldom dweUs on the beauties of any place ;
her object being, like that of most traveUers, to
reacU some distant spot, aU delay and unnecessary
observation, Uowever worthy of attention the places
she passed through may be, was carefuUy avoided.
SUe cannot, however, withhold her tribute of admi
ration from the beautiful Loire, which they ascended
to Orleans.

LADY FANSHAWE. 361
" Of aU'my travels none were," she exclaims,
" for travel-sake, as I may call it, so pleasant as
tUis, for we saw tUe finest cities, seats, woods,
meadows,, pastures, and champagne that I ever saw
in my life."
In aU tUeU losses and troubles. Sir Richard
Fanshawe and his amiable lady showed an exam
ple which was seldom set by any of the King's
friends besides, and as little foUowed, wUich was
that they submitted to any privation rather than
borrow or owe money — a practice common with
theu countrymen, and which, as she observes,
" redounded much to the King's dishonour and
theU own discredit."
A sad separation now ensued between the devoted
wife and her affectionate husband : Su Richard was
appointed secretary to Charles II. , and was obliged
to join Uim in Scotland, wUUe Lady FansUawe per
force remained in London : it was true that she was
surrounded by her relatives, and her father was a
great deal vith her ; but she was iU, and again
confined, and fearfully anxious for her husband's
safety, exposed as he was, and suffering from the
impossibUity of frequently receiving letters from
him. " I went," she says, " with my brother, Fan
shawe, to Ware Park, and my sister went to BaUs
to my father, both intending to meet in the winter,
and so indeed we did, with tears ; for the second of

362 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
September foUowing was fougUt the battle of Wor
cester,* where the King being missed, and nothing
heard of your father being dead or alive, for three
days, it was inexpressible what affliction I was in.
I neither eat nor slept, but trembled at every motion
I heard, expecting the fatal news, which at last
came in theu news-book, which mentioned your
father a prisoner."
Haff distracted with anxiety, the unfortunate wffe
posted immediately to London, resolved to find out
where her husband was carried, and to share his
fate ; but she met a messenger with a letter from
him, telUng her that he should be enabled to see
her shortly, when he was brought into London ; as
it was promised, as a great favour, tUat, on the
party halting at Charing Cross, he might dine with
his vife ff she was on the spot to meet him. De
ligUted at this piece of good fortune, she hastened
to procure a room and prepare a dinner, at Charing
Cross ; where, accompanied by her father and seve
ral friends, she took her station awaiting his arrival.
" Where," she relates, " about eleven of the clock,
we saw hundreds of poor soldiers, both EnglisU and
Scotcli, march, aU naked, on foot, and many with
* CromweU, in his letter to the Parliament, says, the battle
was fought with various success for some hours, and, in the end,
became an absolute victory. He says, there were about six or
seven thousand prisoners taken, and many officers and men of
quality; that it was a stiff business, yet he did not think his army
had lost more than two hundred men.

LADY FANSHAWE, 363
your father, who was very cheerful in appearance ;
who, after he had spoken and saluted me and his
friends, then said : ' Pray let us not lose time, for
I know not how little time I have to spare : this is
the chance of war ; nothing venture, nothing have :
so let us sit down and be merry while we may,'
Then taking my hand in his, and kissing me, he
said, ' Cease weeping; no other thing on earth
can move me : remember we are aU at God's
disposal.' " TUen he began to tell how kind his captain was
to him ; and the people, as he passed, offered him
money and brought him good things ; and particu
larly Lady Denham, at Boston House, who would
have given him all the money she had in the house;
but he returned her thanks, and told her he had so
ill kept his ovra, that he would not tempt his go
vemor with more ; but ff she would give him a shut
or two, and some handkerchiefs, he would keep
them as long as he could, for her sake. She fetched
him two smocks of her own, and some handker
chiefs, saying she was ashamed to give him them ;
but having none of her sons at home, she desued
him to wear them.
" Thus we passed the time until order came to
carry him to Whitehall ; where, in a little room, yet
standing, in the bowling-green, Ue was kept pri
soner, vithout the speech of any, so far as they
knew, ten weeks, and in expectation of death.
They often examined him ; and, at last, he grew so

864 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Ul in health, by the cold and hard marches he had
undergone, and being pent up in a room, close and
small, that he was brought almost to death's door.
" During the time of his imprisonment I faUed
not constantly to go, when the clock struck four in
the morning, with a dark lantern in my hand, all
alone and on foot from my lodging in Chancery
Lane, at my cousin Young's, to WhitehaU, in at
the entry tUat went out of King Street into the
bowling-green. TUere would I go, under his win
dow, and softly call him ; he, after the fust time
excepted, never failed to put Uis head out at the
first caU. Thus we talked together ; and sometimes
I was so wet with the rain, that it went in at my
neck and out at my heels. He duected how I should
make my . addresses, which I ever did to theu
general, CromweU, wUo had a great respect for your
father, and would have bought him off to his service,
upon any terms.
" Being one day to solicit for my Uusband's
liberty for a time, he bid me bring the next day a
certificate from a physician, that he was reaUy iU.
Immediately I went to Dr. Batters that was, by
chance, both physician to CromweU and our famUy,
who gave me one very favourable in my husband's
behaff." Lady Fanshawe, with her usual energy, deUvered
this document herseff at the CouncU Chamber, and
gives, involuntarily, a proof of the humanity of

LADY FANSHAWE. 365
CromweU, who himself proposed Sir Richard's
release, representing that his detention afforded
them no service, and requiring four thousand
pounds bail. TUis was violently opposed by some,
particularly by Su Hemy Vane, " who said he
would be instrumental, for aught he knew, to hang
them all tUat sat tUere, if ever Ue had an oppor
tunity; but ff he had liberty for a time, tUat he
might take the engagement before he went out."
To this Cromwell, with one of his customary sneers,
replied, " I never knew tUat the engagement was a
medicine for the scorbutic."
It is evident by this how uncertain all these men
were of theu position, and how much they antici
pated some sudden downfal, which would at once
put them in the power of those they had injured.
After some discussion, CromweU's wisU was
acceded to, and Su Richard's baU was accepted.
It seems tUat wUen he found he must be taken
prisoner, he lost no time in burning all his papers,
which precaution saved the lives and estates of
many of CUarles's friends, and entirely foUed the
Parliament. TUe doctor's certificate was no fiction, for Sir
RicUard, when he came home, became dangerously
ill; and his affectionate wffe had to nurse him for
many days and nights, during which he suffered
great pain; she in the meantime daUy expecting
anotUer confinement !
After being kept under strict surveiUance for

366 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
some time, they were aUowed tUe next year, 1653,
to retue to YorksUue ; where Lady Fanshawe says
they lived " a Uarmless country lffe, minding only
the country sports and country affaUs."
It was here that Sir Richard translated the Lu-
ciad of Camoens, and they had an interval of tran
quUlity, which was sadly interrupted by the death of
their favourite chUd, " little Nan," wUo was carried
off by that scourge of the time, the smaU-pox.
TheU grief for her loss was extreme : —
"We both wished," says the sorrowing mother,
" to have gone into the same grave with her. She
lies buried in Tankersley CUurch, (in Yorkshue,)
and her death made us both desuous to quit that
fatal place to us, which we did."
Severe sickness visited aU the famUy for some
time ; agues and fevers, then extremely prevalent ;
and in one sickness from quartian ague, which
Lady Fanshawe describes, from which she suffered
for seven months, her remedies seem little inferior
to Uer disease, consisting of " sage posset, pancakes,
and now and tUen a turnip or carrot." One of
tUeir chUdren, sick of an ague, was sent, in the
hopes of her recovery, to Frog-pool, where, as might
be expected, she died.
However, an unexpected piece of good news,
added to a residence at Bath, took aAvay aU their
maladies for a time ; they had to hail tUe death of
CromweU, and new prospects opened upon tUem.

LADY FANSHAWE. 367
Sir Richard hoped that he should " get loose from
his fetters," and hurried to London to see what
could be done. PhUip, Earl 6f Pembroke, wUo was
Uis friend, arranged witU him that he should accom
pany his son, as ff as a traveUing companion or
tutor, for a year; and, by tUus representing tUe
case, Ue contrived to emancipate Uim from Uis en
gagements. He lost no time in setting out for
Paris, whence he wrote to Lord Chancellor Claren
don, desiring him to acquaint the King of his
escape, and of his being again at his service.
He then wrote to his wffe to join him, with her
children, as speedUy as she could; but she found
many obstacles in the way ; for, on applying for a
pass, the answer she received was, " that by a trick
her husband had got his liberty, but for her and his
children, on no conditions should they stir;" but
her woman's wit helped her in this emergency.
" I made no reply," says the lady, " but took
my leave. I sat me down in the next room, full
sadly to consider what I should do ; desUing God
to help me in so just a cause as I then was in. I
began and thought if I were denied a passage then,
they would ever after be more severe on all occa
sions, and it migUt be very Ul for us botU. I was
ready to go, if I had a pass, the next tide; and
might be there before they could suspect I was
gone : these thoughts put this invention into my
head.

368 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
" At WaUingford House tUe office was kept
wUere tUey gave passes : tUither I went in as plain
a way and speech as I could devise, leaving my
maid at the gate, who was much a finer gentle
woman than myseff. With as ill mien and tone as
I could express, I told a fellow I found in the office,
that I desued a pass for Paris, to go to my husband.
'Woman, what is your husband, and your name?'
' SU,' said I, vith many curtseys, ' he is a young
merchant, and my name is Ann Harrison.' ' WeU,'
said he, ' it wUl cost you a crown.' Said I, ' that is
a great sum for me, but pray put in a man, my
maid, and three chUdren :' all wUich he immediately
did, telUng me a malignant would give him five
pounds for such a pass.
" I thanked him kindly, and so went immediately
to my lodgings, and with my pen I made the great
H of Harrison two ff, and the rr an n, and the i an
s, and the s an h, and the o an a, and the n aw, ^o
completely, that none could find out the change.
With all speed I UUed a barge, and that night, at
six o'clock, I went to Gravesend, and fi-om thence
by coach to Dover, where, upon my arrival, the
searchers came and demanded my pass, which they
were to keep for their discharge. When they had
read it they said, ' Madam, you may go when you
please ;' but said one, ' I little thought they would
give a pass to so great a malignant, especiaUy in so
troublesome a time as this.'
. " About nine o'clock at night T went on board

LADY PANSHAWE. 369
the packet boat, and about eight o'clock in the
morning landed safe, God be praised, at Calais. I
went to Mr. Booth's, an EnglisU mercUant, and a
very honest man. There I rested two' days ; but
upon the next day he had advice from Dover, that
a post was sent to stay me from London, because
they had sent for me to my lodgings, to know why
and upon what business I went to France. Then I
discovered to him my invention of the changing my
name, at which, as at their disappointment, we all
laugUed ; and so did your father, and as many as
kncAV the deceit,"
Lady Fanshawe never travelled witUout an ad
venture : one AA'hich attended her journey to Paris
to join her husband, presents a picture of the state
of miUtary discipline in France somewhat startling.
TUe Governor of AbbevUle, being iU in bed, could
not wait upon her, but sent her word that he had
lately seen her husband, and had given him a pro
mise to take care of her, as she passed through his
government : he gave her a guard, with a caution
to beware of them, and to present them with a
srpistole a-piece, in order to secure theU good offices,
as there was much robbery about. She set out
Avith ten weU-armed troopers as an escort, and
when they had gone a few leagues, as they ascended
the hill, one of them said to her, " Madam, look
out, but fear nothing,"
" They rid up to a weU-mounted troop of Uorse,
VOL. II. B B

370 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
about fffty or more, who, after some parley, wheeled
about into the woods again. When we came upon
the hiU, I asked Uow it was possible so many men,
so weU armed, sUould tm'u, having so few to oppose
them. At this they laughed, and said, ' Madam, we
are all of one company, and quarter in this town.
The truth is, our pay is short, and we are forced to
keep ourselves this way : but we have this rule, that
if we in a party guard any company, the rest never
molest them, but let them pass free,"
Notwithstanding all her perUs, Lady Fanshawe
had courage the next year to return to England,
in order to raise money for her husband, retuming
safely with one hundred and fifty pounds. The
royal family loaded them with kindness and atten
tion, and they went afterwards to the Court at
the Hague, where she first saw, as she teUs us,
tUe Queen of Bohemia, who received them with that
grace and kindness for which she was so celebrated.
All now was triumph and joy, for Charles the
Second was restored to his crown and country.
There was no end to the promises of places and
advantages to Sir Richard, most of the best of»
which, if ever intended to be fulfiUed by tUe King,
were prevented by Uis ministers and "that false
man. Lord Chancellor Clarendon," who never was
his friend.
Her description of the embarkation* and return
* Pepys, in his usual quaint way, describes the scene of the
King's receiving his friends at the Hague, and the embarkation. " This

LADY FANSHAWE. 371
is very animated. Pity it was that the triumphant
fleet, which carried home men who had so much
reason to be thankful and grateful to Providence,
was not freighted with more piety, vUtue, or
" This afternoon, Mr, Edward Pickering told me in what a sad
poor condition for clothes and money the King was, and all his
attendants, when he came to him first from my Lord, (i. c. Lord
Sandwich,) their clothes not being worth forty shillings, the best
of them. And how overjoyed the King was when Sir J. Green-
vUle brought him some money ; so joyful, that he called the Prin
cess-Royal (afterwards Princess of Orange,) and Duke of York, to
look upon it as it lay in the portmanteau, before il was taken out."
He describes the King's animation onboard, during their trium
phant voyage, as being very " active and stirring,"
" Upon the quarter-deck he fell into discourse of his escape
from AVorcester, where it made me ready to weep to hear the
stories he told of the difSculties that he had passed through ; as
his travelling four days, and three nights, on foot, every step up
to his knees iu dirt, ivith nothing but a green coat and a pair of
country breeches on, and a pair of country shoes, that made him
so sore aU over his feet, that he could scarce stir. Yet he was
forced to run away from a raUler, and other company, that took
them for rogues,
" He sitting at table at one place where the master of the
house that had not seen him in eight years did know him, but
kept it private ; when, at the same table, there was one that had
been of his own regiment at Worcester, could not know him, but
made him drink the King's health, and said that the King was at
least four fingers higher than he. At another place he was by
some servants of the family made to drink, that they might know
that he was not a Roundhead, which they swore he was,
" In another place, at his inn, the master of his house, as the
King was standing with his hands upon the back of a chair by
the fire-side, kneeled down and kissed his hand privately, saying,
that he would not ask him who he was, but bid God bless him whi
ther he was going. Then the difficulties in getting a boat to get to
France, where he was fain to plot with the master thereof to keep
his design from the foreman and a boy, which was all the ship's
corapany, and so get to Fecamp, in France, At Rouen, he looked
so poor, that he was suspected of being a thief," &c.
B B 2

372 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
common sense, instead of introducing into England
a band of profligates, whose shameful excesses
have disgraced the annals of our nation !
" Upon the King's restoration, the Duke of
York, then made admiral, appointed ships to carry
over the company and servants of the King, who
were very great. His Highness appointed for my
husband and his famUy a tUUd-rate frigate, caUed
tUe 'Speedwell;' but Uis Majesty commanded my
Uusband to wait on him in his own ship.
" We had, by the States' order, sent on board
to the King's most eminent servants, great store
of provisions ; for our famUy we Uad sent a tierce
of claret, a Uogshead of Rhenish wine, six dozen
of fowls, a dozen of gammons of bacon, a great
basket of bread, and six sheep, two dozen of neat's
tongues, and a great box of sweetmeats.
" Thus, taking our leave of those obliging per
sons we Uad conversed witU at the Hague, we
went on board upon the 23d of May, about two
in the afternoon. The King embarked at four
of the clock, upon which we set saU, tUe shore
being covered with people, and shouts from all
places of a good voyage, which was seconded with
many volleys of sUot interchanged; so favourable
was the wind that the ship's wherries went from
ship to ship to visit their friends all night long.
"But who can sufficiently express the joy and
gaUantry of tUat voyage, to see so many great

LADY PANSHAAVE. 373
ships, the best in the world, to hear the trumpets
and aU otUer music, to see near a hundred brave
ships sail before tUe wind, witU their vast canvass
and streamers, — their neatness and cleanness, — ^the
strength and jolUty of tUe mariners, — the gallantry
of tUe commanders,' — and, above all, tUe glorious
majesties of tUe King and his two brothers, were
so beyond man's expectation and expression. The
sea was calm, the moon shone at fuU, and the
sun suffered not a cloud to hinder his prospect of
the best sight, by whose ligUt and the merciful
bounty of God, he was set safely on shore at
Dover, in Kent, upon the 25th of May, 1660.
" So great were the acclamations and numbers
of people, that it reached like one street from
Dover to WhitehaU. * *
"TUe King gave my Uusband his picture, set
with small diamonds, when he was a child ; it is
a great rarity, because there never was but one!'
The King was crowned the next year, and, as
Lady Fanshawe observes, " as it was a time of
advancement, so it was one of great expense :"
she adds, " this year we furnished our house, and
paid all our debts wUich Ave had contracted during
the war ;" — in the latter particular tUey were,
probably, almost unique. Lord Clarendon's ill-
ofiices to Sir RicUard are not passed over in
silence ; and mucU heart-burning seems continuaUy
to have been going on. In order to get him out

374 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
of the way. Clarendon proposed to Charles to send
Su Richard as ambassador to Portugal, with his
letter and pictm'c to the Princess ; and he went
accordingly. " When your father was gone on this errand,"
says his biographer, " I stayed in our house, in
Portugal Row, and at Christmas I received the
new year's gifts belonging to his places, Avhich is
the custom, of two tons of wine at the Custom
House, for Master of Requests, and fifteen ounces
of gilt plate at the Jewel House, as Secretary of
the Latin tongue."
Sir Richard returned from his successful em
bassy, and had afterwards the pleasing duty of
receiving the Queen at Portsmouth, where the mar
riage took place ; and, after the ceremony, " the
ribbons her Majesty wore were cut in little pieces,
and, as far as tUey would go, every one had some."
Nothing could be more gracious than the recep
tion by the young Queen of Lady Fanshawe ; and
another picture, set with larger diamonds, the value
of which was from i^ree to four hundred pounds,
rewarded Sir Richard's zeal; besides, out of the
wardrobe, "A crimson velvet cloth of state, fringed and
laced with gold, with a chair, a footstool and
cushions, and two other stools of the same, with a
Persian carpet to lay under them, and a suit of
fine tapestry hangings for that room, with tAvo

LADY PANSHAWE, 375
velvet altar cloths for the chapel, fringed with
gold, with surplices, altar clotUs and napkins of
fine linen, with a Bible in Ogleby's print, and cuts,
two Common Prayer-books in folio and quarto,
witU eight hundred ounces of gUt plate, and four
thousand ounces of white plate ; but there wanted
a velvet bed, which he should have had, by custom!'
However remiss Charles might have been in
rewarding his servants, it is clear they were not
behind-hand in expecting much, Avithout reference
to his power to grant all tUeu expensive demands.
All tUis, however, was preparatory to Sir Richard
and his lady going to Portugal, as had been agreed;
and accordingly they once more embarked, taking
three daughters with them. They had taken Salis
bury in tUeu way, and WUton, wliicU greatly de
lighted them, as they were to set sail from Plymouth;
at which place they were treated with extraordinary
distinction — fat bucks and presents of all kinds
pouring in upon tUem for tUeU voyage.
Lady Fanshawe, after all her former journeys
and escapes, when she was obliged to hide, and fly,
and conceal her rank on most occasions, or, at the
best, to travel with economy, seemed now to enjoy
the state in which, as lady-ambassadress, she was
received in Portugal, and mentions, with great
deligUt, the " noble presents of perfumes, Avaters,
and sweetmeats," sent to her by the Queen-mother,
and the state with which she Avas surrounded at her

376 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN,
audiences. She -teUs a ludicrous story, that hap^
pened at the French ambassador's :
" There was a numerous sort of people about
the ambassador's door, as is usual amongst them.
There was a poor little boy that his mother had
animated daUy to cry for relief so troublesomely
tbat at last the ambassador would say : ' What
noise is that at the gate, of perpetual screaming ? I
wiU have it so no more.' Upon which, they
carried the child to Uis mother, and bade her keep
him at home, for it screamed like a devil, and if it
returned, tUe porter swore Ue would punisU him
severely. " Not many days after, according to his former
custom, the child returned, louder than before,
if possible : the porter, keeping his word, took
the boy, and pulled off his rags, and anointed
him all over witU honey, leaving no part undone,
and very thick, and then threw him into a tub of
fine feathers, which, as soon as he had done, he set
him on his legs and frightened him home to his
mother, who, seeing this thing, for none living
could guess him a boy, ran out into the city, the
chUd squeaking after her, and aU the people in the
streets after them, thinking it was a devil, or some
strange creature."
Another of her stories might have had a tragical
termination amongst these naturally jealous people,
wUom she describes as " more formal than cheerful."

LADY FANSHAWE. 377
" There was, during my stay in the town, a
Portugal merchant jealous of his mistress favouring
an EnglisUman, wUom he entertained with much
kindness, hiding his suspicion. One evening he
invited him to see a country house, and eat a
collation, which he did ; after which the merchant,
with three or four more of his friends, for a rarity,
showed him a cave hard by the house, which went
in at a very narrow hole, but within was very capa
cious, in the side of a very high mountain. It was
so dark that they carried a torch : says one to the
Englishman, 'Did you ever know where bats
dwell?' He repUed, ' No,' ' TUen Uere, su,' say they,
' you shall see them.' Then holding up the ligUt to
the roof, they saw miUions hanging by their legs,
" So soon as they had done this, they, frighten
ing the buds, made tl|em aU fly about him, and,
putting out the light, ran away and left the
Englishman there to get out as well as Ue could,
which was not until the next moming,"
The native feeling of an Englisliwoman — ^whicU
Lady FansUawe could not conceal, even wUen
endeavouring to be as ceremonious as the Portu-
tuguese, — is shovra in an anecdote she relates, of
some EngUsh commanders wUo found tUemselves
aggrieved at a buU-figUt, where tUey did not think
theu place was one of sufficient honour. After
theu differences had been adjusted by the ambas
sador, one of the King's ministers waited upon her.

378 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
hoping that she had taken no offence at what had
passed, because the King had heard, " she was sad
to see her husband troubled, assuring her that his
Majesty and the whole Court desired nothing more
than her content."
" I gave him," she says, " many thanks for the
honour of his visit, and desued him to present my
humble service to the King, assuring him that my
husband and I had all tUe respect imaginable for
his Majesty ; true it was, according to the English
fashion, I did make a little whine wben I saw my
Uusband disordered, but I sUould ever remain Uis
Majesty's Uumble servant ; and so Ue returned well
satisfied." Soon after tUis tUey left Lisbon, wUicU, sUe
says, "witUtUe river, is tUe goodliest situation I ever
saw ; tUe city old and decayed : but they are
making new waUs of stone which wiU contain six
times their city. Their churches and chapels are
the best built, the finest adorned, and the cleanliest
kept of any cUurcUes in the world. The people
deligUt mucU in quintas, which are a sort of country
houses, of which there are abundance within a few
leagues of the city, and those that belong to the
nobility are very fine, botU houses and gardens.
"The nation is generaUy very civU and obliging :
in religion divided between Papists and Jews, The
people generaUy not handsome. They have many
religious Uouses and bisUoprics of gi'eat revenue, and

LADY FANSHAWE, 379
the religious of botb sexes are for tUe most part
very strict, TUeu fruits of aU kind are extraordi
nary good and fair ; theu Avine, rougU for tUe
most part, but very wUolesome ; their corn dark
and gritty ; Avater bad, except some few springs far
from the city. Their flesh of all kinds indifferent ;
tUeir mules and asses extraordinary good and large,
but their horses few and naught. They have little
wood and less grass, "
TUese descriptions of places, since so well known,
Uave aU the charm of novelty ; and as she sets down
her impressions of the moment, they possess value,
and are occasionaUy graphic ; as, for instance, in
Spain, whose cities she afterwards visited as am
bassadress, with her husband. She is the Lady
Mary Wortley Montagu of her time, with less of
wit and observation, it is true, but more of feminine
feeling, except in instances wUere politics or reli
gion are concerned, wUen she seems to think it a
part of her duty to be hard-hearted. For instance,
in the credulity she betrays in the foUowing narra
tive tUere is little to adnUre : —
" At my coming away I visited several nunneries,
in one wliereof I was told tUat tUe last year there
was a girl of fourteen years of age burnt for a Jew.
She was taken from her mother as soon as she was
born, in prison, her mother being condemned,
and brought up in the Esperanza. Although she
never heard, as they did to me ciffirm, what a Jew

380 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
was, sUe did daily scratch and whip the crucifixes,
and run pins into them in private ; and, when dis
covered, confessed it, and said she never would
adore that God."
In a simUar strain is tUe wonderful gUost-story
she relates of Colonel Colpeper and his sister,
whose dead head, with curled hair, lay every night
upon his pillow after Uer death, which was caused
by a nocturnal ramble they had made together to
the tomb of theu father and mother, when they
plucked the hair of the corpses and insulted them.
This ghastly head foUowed the conscience-stricken
brother wherever he went, in aU countries and
places, tiU Uis death ; and Lady Fanshawe con
cludes the marvel by saying, " and several persons
told us they had/e/^ the apparition."
In great state Sir Richard and his lady made
their next expedition into Spain, whither Charles II.
sent him as ambassador, and where he was received
with such singular honours that they quite eclipse
tUose wUicU pleased his simple-hearted wffe in Por
tugal. The King of Spain, out of complUnent
to Charles, entertained them at his ovra cost, and
exerted his utmost courtesy in theU favour. At
Cadiz, the govemor visited them, and the comic
pomposity of his conduct does not appear to have
been lost upon the ambassadress,
" That afternoon, the Duke of Albuquerque came
to visit my husband, and afterwards me, with his

LADY PANSHAWE. 381
brother, Don Milcha de la Cueva, As soon as the
duke was seated and covered, he said : —
" ' Madam, I am Don Juan de la Cueva, Duke
of Albuquerque, Viceroy of Milan, of His Majesty's
Privy Council, General of tUe galleys, twice grandee,
tUe first gentleman of His Majesty's Bedchamber,
and a near kinsman to his Catholic Majesty, whom
God long preserve !' — and then rising up and
making me a low reverence, with his hat off, he
said, ' These, with my family and life, I lay at
your Excellency's feet,' "
TUis magnificent grandee was accompanied by
a great train of gentlemen, and, on retUing, an
nounced tUat his lady would pay her visit very
shortly. Lady Fanshawe was lost in the grandeur
which then surrounded them, which was far beyond
anything they Had Avitnessed before,
" We had a guard constantly Avaited on us, and
sentries at the gate below, and at the staffs' -head
above. We were visited by all tUe persons of
quality in tUe town. Our Uouse was ricUly fur
nisUed — -both my husband's quarter, and mine ; the
worst chamber and bed in my apartment being
furnished with damask, in which my chamber-maid
lay ; and, throughout all tUe cUambers, the floors
were covered with Persian carpets. The richness of
the gilt and silver plate, which we had in great abund
ance, was extraordinary, as we had, likewise, of aU
sorts of very fine household linen, which was fit only

382 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
for the entertainment of so great a Prince as His
Majesty, our master, in the representation of whose
person my husband received this great entertain
ment. Yet, I assure you, notwithstanding this
temptation, that your father and myself both
t wished ourselves in a retired country life in Eng-
\ land, as more agreeable to both our inclinations."
Ceremonies, never ending, followed ; and presents
in abundance, of Indian plate, Uundred-weiglits
of chocolate at a time, embroidered and laced crim
son taffeta handkerchiefs, silver filagree cups and
vases, and all that Eastern splendour could ima
gine, till tUe poor ambassadress seems, by Uer
journal, almost wearied out with receiving and
thanking. At every place they arrived at, on their way to
Madrid, the same scenes took place ; banquets
were given them in chambers hung with rich
tapestry, and hangings embroidered in sUver and
gold on velvet, cloth of gold spread around, and
Persian carpets under their feet.
She mentions a peculiarity in tUeir Uaving linen
of the most delicate description, both for table
and beds, never washed, but made expressly for
the occasion. The cabinets and looking-glasses
exceeded description, and everything was in unison.
At SevUle, " tUat great city once, but now
mucU decayed," tUe splendour of tUeir reception
Avas extreme : —

LADY FANSHAWE, 383
" We lay," she says, " in the King's palace,
royaUy furnisUed on purpose for our reception,
and during our stay. We were lodged in a
silver bedstead, quilt, cm'tains, valances, and
counterpane, of crimson damask, embroidered
richly with flowers of gold. The tables of pre
cious stones, and the looking-glasses bordered
with the same ; the chaUs the same as the bed,
and the floor covered with rich Persian carpets,
and a great brasera of sUver fiUed full of delicate
flowers, wUicU was replenished every day, as long
as we stayed. The hangings were of tapestry, full
of gold, all which furniture was never used but
two nights, when His Majesty was at Seville * *
In this palace, the chief room of my husband's
quarters was a gaUery, wherein were three pau of
India cabinets of Japan, the biggest and beau
tifuUest that ever I did see in my life. It was
furnished with rich tapestry hangings, rich looking-
glasses, Persian carpets, and cloth of tissue chairs.
This palace hath many princely rooms in it, both
above and underneath the ground, with many large
gardens, terraces, walks, fisU-ponds, and statues,
many large courts and fountains, aU of which were
as well dressed for our reception as art or money
could make them. We were every day entertained
with a variety of recreations ; as shows upon the
river, stage plays, dancing, men playing at leger
demain, which were constantly ushered in with
very great banquets, and so finished. * * The consul

384 EMINENT ENGLISHAVOMEN.
of the EnglisU mercUants at SevUle presented us
witU a quantity of cUocolate, and as mucU sugar,
witU twelve fine sarcenet napkins laced, thereunto
belonging, and a very large sUver pot to make it
in, and twelve very fine cups to drink it out of;
fUagree, witU covers of tUe same, witU tAvo very
large salvers to set them upon, of sUver."
But of aU tUe presents offered to her ladyship,
the most singular and startling, was tUat brougbt
by tUe Conde de Molina, of " a young lion!' At
sigUt of this royal animal, her excellency could not
contain her terror ; " I desUed his pardon for not
accepting it, saying, I was of so cowardly a nature,
I durst not keep company with it."
" At Cordova, renowned in the world for noble
and weU-bred gentlemen," tbe corregidor presented
her with twelve cases of amber and orange water,
reputed to be the best in the world, and twelve
barrels of olives, which have also the same fame.
Arrived, at length, at Madrid, her ladyship was
almost bewildered with the continued magnificence
of the Court there ; and she 'dwells with much
satisfaction on the gorgeousness of her beloved
husband's appearance, when he went in state to
have his audience of the king.
" My husband was dressed^ in a very rich suit of
clothes, of dark fUlemonte brocade, laced, with ,silver
and gold lace, nine laces, every one as broad as my
hand, and a little silver and gold lace laid between

LADY FANSHAWE.

385

them both, of very cm-ious workmanship ; his suit was
trimmed with scarlet taffeta ribbon; his stockings
of white sUk, upon long scarlet sUk ones ; his shoes
black, with scarlet shoestrings and garters ; his linen
very fine, laced with very rich Flanders lace ; a black
beaver, buttoned on the left side with a jewel of
twelve hundred pounds value. A curious-Avrought
gold chain, made in the Indies, at which hung the
King his master's picture, richly set with diamonds.
On his fingers he wore two rich rings ; his gloves
trimmed with the same ribbpn as his clothes."
The coach she describes as the finest that ever
entered Madrid with any ambassador whatever : it
was drawn by four black horses, the finest that ever
came out of England ; none being allowed to drive
six but the King.
" It was of rich crimson velvet, laced with a
broad silver and gold lace, fringed round with a
massy silver and gold fringe, and tUe falls of the
boot so rich that they hung almost down to the
ground ; the very fringe cost almost four hundred
pounds. The coach was very richly gUt on tUe
outside, and very richly adorned vsith brass-work,
with rich tassels of gold and silver Uanging round
the top of tUe curtains, round about the coach.
The curtains were of rich damask, fringed with
sUver and gold ; ,the harness richly embossed with
brass-work ; the reins and tassels for the horses of
crimson silk, silver and gold."
VOL. II. c c

386 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
After banquets and entertainments at aU tUe
King's country houses near Madrid, Lady Fanshawe
and her husband went privately to visit Aranjuez,
without state; she names it, as
" Most part buUt by Philip the Second, husband
of Queen Mary of England, There are the highest
trees, and grow up the evenest I ever saw ; many of
them are bored through, with pipes for water to
ascend and to faU from the top dovra, one against
the other ; and likewise tUere are many fountains in
tUe side of this walk ;' and the longest walks of elms
I ever saw in my life, TUe park is weU stored with
EnglisU oaks and elms, and deer ; and tUe Tagus
makes it an island, TUe gardens are vastly large,
with the most fountains, and the best, that ever I
saw in my life.
" As soon as the Duke (Don Pedro Roco, master
of the ceremonies) heard we were gone thither, he
immediately sent orders after us, for our entertain
ment, by a post ; but we were gone before. Going
home by Escurias, we saw those famous reputed
ceUars, which are forty-four steps down, where that
admuable wine is kept, in great tanajas, which are
pots holding about five hundred gaUons each ; and,
to let you know how strangely they clear theU wine,
U is by putting some of the earth of the place in U;
which way of refining theu wine is done nowhere
but here."
AU the sights of Madrid passed before the eyes

LADY FANSHAWE. 387
of the deUghted ambassadress, who was particularly
struck with the Escurial, the convent. of which she
had a special order to see, as women are not per
mitted to enter the sacred precincts.
The royal vaults, caUed tUe Pantheon, fUled her
viith admuation ; they were iUuminated for theu
inspection. " There saw I," she exclaims, "the most glorious
place for the covering of the bones of their kings of
Spain that is possible to imagine. I wiU briefiy
give you this description :
" The descent is about thirty steps, aU of poUshed
marble, and arched and lined on aU sides with
jasper, poUshed. Upon the left hand, in the middle
of the staffs, is a large vault, in which the bodies
of theu kings, . and queens that have been mothers
of kings, lie in sUver coffins for one year, untU tUe
moisture of theu bodies is consumed. Over against
this is another vault, in which lie buried the bodies
of those queens that had no sons at their death,
and all tUe children of the kings that did not
inherit. At the bottom of the staffs is the Pan
theon, buUt eight feet square, and is, I guess, about
sixty feet over. The whole lining of it, in all places,
is jasper, very curiously carved, both in figures and
flowers and imagery ; and a branch for forty lights,
.which is vastly rich, of sUver, and hangs dovra from
the top by a silver chain, within three yards of the
bottom, and is made with great art, as is also a
e c 2

388 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
curious knot of jasper on tUe floor, and the reflec
tion of the branch and UgUts is perfectly tUere to
be seen, TUe bodies of their kings lie in jasper
stones, supported, every coffin, by four Uons of
jasper at tUe four comers. Three coffins and three
broad stones are set in every arch, which arch is
curiously wrought in the roof, and supported by
jasper piUars ; tUere are seven arcUes, and one in
tUe middle, at tUe upper end; and tUat over against
the coming in, contains a very curious altar and
crucifix of jasper.
" From thence we saw all the convent and the
sacristania, in which there were all tUe principal
pieces that ever Titian made, and the hands of many
others of the most famous men that then were in
the world.
" After seeing the convent and every part thereof,
we saw the king's palace, with the apothecary's
shop, and all tUe stUlatories, and all belonging
tUereunto. " TUe Escurial stands under the side of a very
high mountain ; it has a very fine river, and a large
park well stored witU deer ; it is buUt upon a hiU,
and you ascend about Ualf a mile, tUrougU a double
row of elm trees, to the house, which is abundantly
served with most excellent water and wood for theu
use. The front has a large platform, paved vrith
marble, and raUed with a stone balluster, round
about ; tUe entry of tUe gate is supported by two
marble piUars, each of them of entire marble, near

LADY PANSHAWE. 389
twelve feet high. It is built witb seventeen courts
and gardens thereunto ; the whole is of rough
marble, with pUlars of tUe same round the cloisters ;
and the walls thereof are made so smooth, that the
famous Titian hath painted them with stories all
over ; among others, the story of the battle of Le-
panto ; and the gaUery of the palace also. They
have infinite numbers of fountains, both within and
without the house.
" It contains a very fine palace, a convent, and a
coUege, and hospital, all which are exactly weU kept
and royaUy furnished ; but I cannot omit saying
that the finest stUlatory I ever saw is tUere, being a
very large room, shelved round, with glasses sized
and sorted upon the shelves, many of crystal gilt,
and tUe rest of Venice glasses, aud some of vast
sizes ; the floor is paved with black and white
marble ; and in the middle stands a furnace, with
five hundred stUls round it, witU glass like a pyra
mid, witU glass Heads. TUe apothecary's shop is
large, very richly adorned with painting, gilding,
and marble; there is an inward room, in which
the medicines are made, as finely furnished and
beautified as the shop ; all the vessels are sUver,
and so are aU the instruments for surgery ; nothing
is wanting there for that purpose that invention or
money can produce,"
The sweetmeats which were sent her at Madrid,
as presents, she dwells on with great satisfaction ;

390 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
her " Uttle Betty," and other chUdren, probably
entering into her feeUngs on the subject.
" About this time I had sent me, by a Genoese
merchant, that Avas a banker in Madrid, a box of
about a yard and a half long, and almost the same
broad, covered with green taffety, and bound with
a silver lace, witU lock and key : witUin, it was
divided into many partitions, garnisUed witU gilt
paper, and filled full of tUe best and cUoicest sweet
meats, aU dry. I never saw any so beautiful and
good before or since, besides the curiosity,"
She describes an amusement, representing which,
there were some very curious Spanish pictures, a few
years ago, in England, which were exhibited to the
public, and gave a perfect idea of tUe scene.
" On tUe 23 d, we were invited to see a show
performed by forty-eight of the chiefest of the
nobiUty, on horseback, who ran two and two as
fast as the horses could run, in walks raUed in
on purpose, on both sides, before the palace-gate :
over which, Ui a balcony, sat the King, the Queen,
and the Empress : round about, in other balconies,
sat the nobiUty of tUe Court : and, in an entre suele,
at tUe King's left Uand, sat the chief of the ambas
sadors. My husband and I were with the Duke
and Duchess of Medina de las Torres, in their own
particular quarter of the palace ; which we chose as
the best place, and having the best view; where
upon we refused the balcony. The sight was

LADY FANSHAWE. 391
very fine, the noblemen and horses very richly
attired. " Amongst other diversions of sports, we had
this Christinas Juan Arana, the famous come
dian ; wUo here acted about two hours, to the
admuation of all who beheld him ; considering
that he was near upon eighty years of age,
"About this time, the Duke of Alva sent my
husband a fat buck : I never eat any better in
England, We do take it for granted in England
that there is nothing good to eat in Spain; but,
I assure you, the want is money alone."
Lady Fanshawe seemed highly satisfied, through
out the period of her stay in Spain, with the
country and the people ; and observes :
" There is not, in the Christian world, better
wines than theu Inidland wines are especiaUy,
besides Sherry and Canary. Theu water tastes
like milk, their corn white to a muacle, and their
wheat makes the sweetest and best bread in the
world : bacon beyond belief good : the Segovia
veal much larger and fatter than ours : mutton
most excellent : capons mucU better than ours.
" They have a small bird tbat lives and fattens
on grapes and corn, so fat that it exceeds the
quantity of fiesh. They have the best partridges
I ever ate, and the best sausages, and salmon, pikes,
and sea-bream, which they send up in pickle,
called ashe veche, to Madrid ; and dolphins, which

392 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
are exceUent meat; besides carp, and many other
sort of fish. The cream, called nattuos, is. much
sweeter and thicker than any I ever saw in
England : their eggs much exceed ours, and so all
sorts of sallads, roots, and fruits. What I most
admUe are, melons, peaches, bergamot pears,
grapes, oranges, lemons, citrons, figs, and pome
granates : besides that I have eaten many sorts
of biscuits, cakes, cheese, and exceUent sweetmeats.
I have not here mentioned especially manger-blanc :
and they have oUves wUicU are nowUere so good :
and tUeu perfumes of amber excel all tUe world in
their kind, both for household stuff and fumes;
and there arC' no such waters made, as in SevUle.
" They have daily curiosities brought from Italy
and the Indies to this Court; which, though L got
my death-wound in, without partiality I must say it
is the best estabUsUed, but our own, in the Christian
world, that ever I saw ; and I have had the honour
to live in seven.
" All ambassadors live in as great splendour as
tUe most ambitious can desire ; and, if tbey are
just and good, Avith as much love as they can
deserve, " In the palace, none serve the King and Queen,
but the chiefest of the nobUity and ancientest
famUies ; no, not in tUe meanest offices.
" The nation is most superstUiously devout in
the Roman CathoUc religion: trae in trust com
mitted to them to a miracle, notwithstanding all

LADY FANSHAWE. 393
temptations to the contrary. * * They are civil
to aU, as their qualities require, vith the highest
respect ; so that I have seen a grandee and a duke
stop theu horse when an ordinary woman passeth
over a kennel, because he would not spoil her
clothes : and put off his hat to the meanest woman
that makes a reverence, though it be their footman's
wife. * *
" They are generally pleasant and facetious com
pany ; but in tbis their women excel, though they
seldom laugh, and never loud; but are the most
witty in repartees and stories, of aU nations in tUe
world. TUey sing, but not weU ; theu way being
between Italian and Spanish : they play on all
kinds of instruments likewise, and dance witU
castanets very well. TUey work little, but very
well; especiaUy in monasteries. They all paint
white and red, from the Queen to the cobler's
wffe, old and young, widows excepted ; who never
go out of close mourning, nor wear gloves, nor
show theu hair after theu husband's death, and
seldom marry again. They are the finest shaped
women in the world, not taU : theu hair and teeth are
most delicate : and tUere are none love cleanliness
in diet, clotUes, and Uouses, more tUan tUey do.
They dress up their oratories very fine, with their
own work and fiowers,
" They have a seed, which they sow in the latter
end of March, like our sweet basU : but it grows
up in theu pots, which are often of china, large,

394 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
for their windows, so delicately, tUat it is aU the
summer as round as a baU, and as large as the
circumference of the pot, of a most pleasant green,
and very good scent,
" They deUgUt mucU in the feasts of buUs, and
stage plays ; and take great pleasure to see their
littie chUdren act before tUem in tUeU own Uouses,
wUicU tUey wUl do in perfection : but tUe cUUdren
of the greatest are kept at great distance from
conversing Avith theu relations and friends ; never
eating with their parents after infancy. They are
carried into an apartment Avith a priest — who says
daily tUe office of their Church — a governess, nurse,
and under- servants, who have theu allowance
according to tUe custom of great men's houses.
" Until tUe daughters marry, they never stU, so
much as down stairs; nor marry, for any consideration,
under their ovra quality, wUicU to prevent, ff theu
fortunes wiU not procure, tliey make tUem nuns.
They are very magnificent in houses, pictures of the
best, furniture, jewels, plate, and clothes : most
noble in presents, entertainments, and equipages :•
and when they visit, it is with great state and at
tendance. When they travel, they are the most jolly
persons in the world, dealing tUeu provisions of all
sorts to every person they meet when they are eating."
The friendly attention which Lady Fanshawe re
ceived from the whole of this distinguished Court
continued without diminution aU tUe time they

LADY FANSHAWE, 395
remained there. She speaks of frequent presents
from the ladies of rank ; amongst others, of two
beautfful little greyUounds, so small that she could
put them in her pocket, a rather more pleasing
offering than the young lion she rejected.
The Queen of Spain seemed to have great hopes
of gaining her over to the Catholic religion, probably
from her not having expressed the usual horror of
their ceremonies which was common at the period,
and she was loaded with praises and civilities accord
ingly. TUe DucUess de Medina cle las Torres, she
says, told her,
"That her Catholic Majesty had a very high
esteem for me, not only as I was the wffe of a great
king's ambassador, for whom her Majesty had a
great respect, but for my person, and the delight
"her Majesty took in my conversation ; assming me,
from her, that upon all occasions I should find her
most cheerfuUy willing to do me aU possible kind
ness in Uer Court; and, for a token tUereof, Uer
Majesty Uad Uerewith sent me a jewel of diamonds,
worth eight thousand five hundred and fifty ducats,
which is about two thousand pounds sterling :
which then her exceUency did deliver to me, saying,
sUe thought herseff much honoured and much con
tented that the Queen had employed her in a busi
ness in which she took so much deligUt."
Lady Fanshawe acknowledged this com'tesy in the
true Spanish style, desiring to be laid at the feet of

396 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
her Majesty, and professing that she considered
" the ribbon with which the jewel was tied, coming
from her Majesty, was a favour of which I should
Uave bragged aU tUe days of my life, though I could
never have deserved it, much more did I esteem so
rich a jewel, but above aU tUe Queen's gracious
acceptance of my services," &c. &c,
" On tUe 8th AprU, being Uis CatUolic Majesty's
birthday, I went to give the Empress* and her
Catholic Majesty the para bien thereof, and likewise
my tUanks for tUe many Uonours sUe had done me,
and particularly for that of the jewel,"
In her journal, she now tells of receiving from
England of the " sad news of her good brother-in-
law, my Lord Fanshawe's death, and, at the same
time, of his son's being happily married to one of the
daughters and heus of SU John Evelyn, of Wilt-
sUue, and widow of Su John Wray, of Lincolnshue."
She has then to record battles lost by the Spaniards
against the Portuguese — ^won by England- against
the Dutch ; and, in the midst of all, tUe birth of
her son, Richard, which seemed a cause of infinite
rejoicing : she receives visits from the grandees, to
congratulate her on this auspicious event, " Avith aU
tUeu best jewels on, as tUe custom of Spain is, to
show respect."
* One of the king's daughters, married to the Emperor Leo
pold : Lady Fanshawe gives her her title prematurely.

LADY PANSHAWE. 397
Her prayer on this occasion is so exceUent that it
is worthy to be given entue.
" O, everliving God, tUrougU Jesus CUrist, receive
the humble thanks of thy servant for thy great
mercy to us in our son, whom I humbly desire thee,
oh Jesus, to protect ; and to make him an instru
ment of thy glory. Give him thy Holy SpUit, O
God, to be with him all the days of his lffe ; direct
him through the nanow paths of righteousness, in
faith, patience, charity, temperance, chastity, and a
love and liking of thy blessed wUl, in all tUe various
accidents of this life : this, with what outward
blessings thou, O Heavenly Father, knowest needful
for him, I beg of thee, not remembering his sins,
nor the sins of us, his parents, nor of our forefathers,
but thy tender mercy, wliicU tUou hast promised
shaU be over all tUy works, and for the blessed
merits of our only Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Amen," Immediately after this event, which promised
them so much happiness, another occmTcd, which
was the cause of deeper sorrow to them than they
could have anticipated.
On the I7th Sept., 1665, Philip IV. of Spain died,
having been sick but four days, to the great conster
nation and regret of his subjects and Court. The
body lay in state in a great room in his palace,
" where they used to act plays,"
" The room was hung with fourteen pieces of the

398 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN,
King's best hangings, and over them rich pictures
round about, aU of one size, placed close together.
At the upper end of the room was raised a throne
of three steps, upon which there was placed a bed
stead, boarded at the bottom, and raised at the
head ; the throne was covered with a rich Persian
carpet : the bottom of the bedstead was of sUver ;
the valance and headcloth, for there were no cur
tains, were cloth of gold, Avrought in flowers of
crimson sUk ; over tUe bedstead was placed a cloth
of state, of the same materials as the fumiture of
the bedstead, upon which stood a sUver gilt coffin,
raised about a foot or more UigUer at tUe Uead than
the feet, in which was laid a pUlow, and in the
coffin lay PhUip IV., witU Uis head upon the pUlow :
on it a white beaver hat, his head combed, his
beard trimmed, his face and hands painted.
" He was clothed in a musk-colour sUk suit, em
broidered witU gold, a gollila about his neck, cuffs
on his hands, which were clasped on his breast,
holding a globe and a cross on it therein ; his cloak
was of the same, with his sword by his side ; stock
ings, garters, and shoe-strings of the same colour
as his suit, and a pau of white shoes on his
feet. " In the room were erected six altars for the
time, upon which stood six candlesticks with wax
candles ligUted, and a crucifix on eacU altar; the
forepart of each of which was covered with black
A^elvet, embroidered Avith silver. Before the throne

LADY FANSHAWE. 399
a rail went across from one side of tUe room to
the other. At the two lower comers of the throne,
at each side, stood a nobleman, the one holding an
imperial crown, the other the sceptre, and on each
side of the throne six high tapers.
" The doors of the room were kept by the major-
domo of the King and Queen then in waiting, and
the outward by the Italian guard.
" On the Saturday night, he was carried upon a
bier, hung betwixt two mules, upon which the
coffin Viith the King's body was laid, covered with
cloth of gold, and at every corner of the bier was a
high crystal lanthorn with lighted tapers in it. He
was attended by some grandees, Avho rode next
after him, and other noblemen in coaches, with
between two and three hundred on horseback, of
whom a great number carried lighted tapers : this
was the company, besides footmen,
" When the body came to the convent of the
Escurial, the friars of that convent stood at the gate,
and there, according to the institution of the place, per
formed the ceremonies as foUows : — The friars asked
the grandees, who carried the King on theu shoulders
— for none other must touch him — ' Who is in that
coffin, and what they do there demand?' Upon
which the Sumiller de Corps, who is the Duke de
Medina de las Torres, answered : ' It is the body of
PhiUp the Fourth, of Spain, whom we here bring,
for you to lay in his ovra tomb,' Upon which the
Duke delivered tUe Queen's letter, as Regent of the

400 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
kingdom, to testify that it was her Majesty's com
mand that the King's body should be there
buried. " Then the prior read the letter, and accompanied
the body before the high altar, where it was for
some time placed, tiU they had performed the usual
ceremonies for that time arranged. After which,
the grandees took up the corpse again, and carried
it down into the Pantheon ; into which, as soon as
they were entered, the prior demanded of the duke
the covering of the King's body as his fee.
" Then demanded he the keys, upon which the
duke delivered him his, as SumUler de Corps ; and
then the prior's own, sent him by the Queen ; and
the major-domo, then in waiting, deUvered him his,
" The prior having received these three keys, de
manded franca of the duke and major-domo, that
in that coffin was the body of PhiUp tUe FourtU ;
and, when they had done, they there left the body
¦with the prior; who, after the body's lying some
time in the place where the infants are buried,
placed it in his own tomb,"
The ceremony of proclaiming the young king, a
child of four years of age, followed, with cUcum-
stances of great state, which she detaUs ; and,
sUprtly after, has to record the last pubUc act of
importance of Uer Uusband, which not only cost
him his place, but his life,
"Dec. 17th, 1665; my husband, upon the part

LADY FANSHAWE. 401
of our King his master, and the Duke de Medina
de las Torres, on the part of his Catholic Majesty,
did conclude and sign together the peace between
England and Spain, and the articles for the adjust
ment between Spain and Portugal ; which articles
were cavUled at by tbe Lord ChanceUor Clarendon
and his party, that they might have an opportunity
to send the Earl of Sandwich out of the way from
the parUament, which then sat ; and who, as he and
his friends feared, would be severely punished for
his cowardice in the Dutch fight. He neither un
derstood the customs of the Court, nor the language,
nor indeed anything but a vicious lffe; and thus
was shuffled into your father's emplojmient, to reap
the benefit of his five years' negotiation of the peace
between England, Spain, and Portugal; and after
above thirty years studying state affaus, and many
of them in the Spanish Court. So much are am
bassadors slaves to the public ministers at home;.
who often, through envy or ignorance, ruin them."
Sir Richard Fanshawe, meantime, set forth from
Madrid to Lisbon, to negotiate the peace ; leaving
his wffe and famUy behind; who, during his ab
sence, were treated with the most marked kindness
and attention. He was away two months, and was
scarcely returned, when the mortifying inteUigence
reached him that the Earl of Sandwich, ambassa-
' dor-extraordinary from England, had arrived at
Corunna to supersede him.
Theu sole business now was to take leave of the
VOI/. IL D D

402 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
Court where they were such peculiar favourites, and
give place to the new ambassador. Lady Fan
shawe, with much regret, paid her last visits to aU
tUe ladies who had shovra her so much friendlmess
and distinction ; from most of whom she received
remembrances which she delights to describe.
" The Duchess de Aveiro gave my daughter
Katherine a jewel of twenty-seven emeralds, and to
my daughter Margaret a crystal box set in gold,
and a large silver box of amber pastilles, to burn :
and to my daugUter Ann a crystal bottle with a
gold neck, fuU of amber water, and a sUver box of
fUagree ; and to my daugUter Betty a little trunk of
silver wire, made in the Indies."
At this time the Infanta Donna Maria was
married by proxy to the Emperor of Austria, with
great pomp ; all tUe account of which her ladyship
dweUs on in Uer journal. TUe Earl of Sandvsich
arrived at Madrid with a numerous train, bringing
private letters, expressed in terms of great favour,
to Su Richard; but the fact of his arriving spoke
another language. The blow was strack : the faith
ful and zealous servant of Charles, the loyal and
devoted subject of his father, — who had rained his
fortunes to support his cause; who had spent his
best years in toUsome services, at a time when there
was little hope of his ever obtaining any reward —
the man who had discharged every duty conscien
tiously and ably, and who was never weary of ex
erting himseff to further the interests of the Crovm

LADY FANSHAWE. 403
— ^had been insulted, contemned, and disgraced; for
he could no otherwise consider his recal; and the
effect was mortal. His wife thus records the sad
truth : —
" June 12, fstilo novo, J being the King's birth-day,
my husband made an entertainment for my Lord
Sandwich, with aU his retinue, and the rest of the
English at Madrid. The next day being Whit-
Sunday, my husband went with the Earl of Sand
wich to a private audience, where he introduced
him to the King of Spain. Monday the 14th, he
went with him to the Duke de Medina de las Torres.
"On the 15th, being Tuesday, my husband was
taken UI with an ague, which turned to a maUgnant
inward fever; of wUicU Ue lay tiU tUe 20th of the
same month, being Sunday, untU eleven of the
clock at night, and then departed this Ufe, fifteen
days before his intended journey to England."
The grief and desolation of heart of his bereaved
widow are feelingly expressed in the prayer she
uttered on this sad occasion.
" O, aU-powerful good God ! look down from
Heaven upon the most distressed vsTctch on earth.
See me with my soul divided, my glory and my
guide taken from me, and, in him, aU my comfort
in this life : see me staggering in my patU, which
made me expect a temporal blessing for a reward
of the great integrity, innocence, and uprightness of
D D 2

404 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
his whole Ufe, and his patience in suffering the
insolency of wicked men, whom he had to converse
with upon the public employment, which thou
thoughtest fit, in thy wisdom, to exercise him in.
Have pity on me, oh Lord ! and speak peace to
my disquieted soiU, now sinking under this great
weight, which, without thy support, cannot sustain
itseff. See me, oh Lord, Avith five chUdren, a dis
tressed family, the temptation of the change of my
religion, the want of aU my friends, witUout coun
sel, out of my country, without any means to return
with my sad famUy to our own country, now in war
witU most part of Christendom.
"But above aU, my sins I do lament, oh Lord,
with shame and confusion, beUeving it is for them
I receive this great pimishment.
"Thou hast shovra me many judgments and
mercies, which did not reclaim me, nor tum me to
thy holy conversation, which the example of our
blessed Saviour taught. Lord, pardon me, forgive
whatever is amiss in me, break not a bruised reed :
I humbly submit to thy justice ; I confess my
wretchedness that I have deserved, not only this,
but everlasting punishment; yet do I wholly rely
on thy mercy, oh God, beseeching thee to remember
thy promises to the fatherless and vridow, and
enable me to fulfU thy wiU cheerfully in this world :
humbly beseeching thee, that when this mortal life
is ended, I may be joined with the soul of my dear
husband, and aU thy servants departed this life in

LADY FANSHAWE. 405
thy faith and fear, in everlasting praises of thy holy
name. Amen."
Sad were now the preparations for the unhappy
widow's departure from a Court where she had spent
so many pleasant days with her beloved husband.
She was now to accompany hun, a corpse, to her
native land; where neglect and coolness awaited her
from the high powers, to whom he had been so
faithful a servant. She went through all her
painful duties, however, vrith the resolution and
propriety which marked aU Uer actions. His body
was embalmed, and sent to BUboa, to await her
embarkation; it was accompanied by part of his
retinue, and left Madrid privately.
Then came the temptation to which she aUudes
in her prayer : —
"The 5th July, 1666, {stilo novo,) the Queen-
mother sent the master of the ceremonies of Spain
to invite me and all my chUdren to stay in her
Court, promising me a pension of thirty thousand
ducats a year, and to provide for my family,, if
I and they would tum our religion and become
Roman Catholics. I answered, I humbly thanked
her Majesty for her great grace and favour, which
I would ever esteem and pay with my services, as
far as I was -able, aU the days of my lffe ; for the
latter, I desued her Majesty to beUeve that I could
not quit the faith in which I had been bom and
bred, and in which God had been pleased to try

406 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
me for many years in the greatest troubles our
nation hath ever seen, and that I do believe and
hope in the profession of my own religion. God
would hear my prayers, and reward her Majesty
and aU the princes of that royal family for this
so great favour which her Majesty was pleased
to offer me in my greatest affliction."
The Queen took this rejection in very good part,
and sent Lady Fanshawe two thousand roubles as
a present, letting her know the sum had been des
tined for her husband to purchase a jewel as a
remembrance. She then had to make costly presents to aU the
courtiers — ^no inconsiderable outlay of money : she
sold aU Uer horses and carriages to the new am
bassador, and much of her plate ; for, disgraceful as
the record seems, no funds were supplied her from
her ovra Court ; and, as she observes — " all the
money I could make being little enough for my
most sad joumey to England."
" The 8th July, 1666, a^ night, I took my leave of
Madrid, and of the Siete Chimineas, the house so
beloved of my husband and me formerly. I carried
with me aU my jewels and tUe best of my plate, and
other precious rarities; aU the rest being gone
before to BUboa, with part of my family. All the
women went in Utters and tUe men on horseback.
* * * My Lord Sandwich came in the afternoon to
accompany me out of town, which offer, though

LADY FANSHAWE. 407
earnestly pressed by my lord, as weU as by other
persons of quality, I refused, desiring to go out of
that place as privately as I could possibly, and I
may truly say, never any ambassador's famUy came
into Spain more gloriously, or went out so sad."
The melancholy cavalcade proceeded to BUboa,
where the mourner found her husband's corpse
awaiting her : there she received letters from
England, and the news of the burning of London.
She left some of her train and part of her pro
perty to foUow to England by sea, and took her
way to Bayonne, purposing to travel through France
with the body. The Queen-mother sent Lady
Guildford to condole with her as soon as she arrived
in Paris, and many of the famUy of the Queen did
the same. The Queen-mother was then at ChaUlot,
and sent one of her carriages to fetch the vvidow,
and received her with great attention, promising
much when she herseff went to England : and
charging her with letters to the royal family, and
papers for her secretary. Sir John Winter.
Mournful and disconsolate, she arrived vvith the
precious remains in London, and soon after parted
for ever vrith even that consolation, depositing the
body in their family vault, in Hertford.
Now came new difficulties, occasioned by the un
principled and unfeeling conduct of those in power :
she had to sue and entreat for her husband's arrears
of pay, which were very considerable ;' and though,
as far as gracious reception went and flattering

408 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
speeches, she might have been content, and with
promises and professions in abundance, she found
right and justice slow to come forth. However,
through the disinterested and strenuous exertions of
Lord Arlington, she at length got an order for the
payment of all due to her; but her annoyances were
not yet over.
" Now I thought myseff happy, and feared nothing
less than further trouble. God, that only knows
what is to come, so disposed my fortune, that losing
that good man and friend, Lord Southampton, raj
money, which was five thousand six hundred pounds,
was not paid me untU December, 1669, notvrith
standing I had taUies for tUe money above two years
before. TUis was above two thousand pounds loss
to me : besides, these commissioners, by the insti
gation of one of theu feUows, my Lord Shaftsbury,
the worst of men, persuaded them that I might pay
for the embassy plate, which I did, two thousand
pounds ; and so maliciously did he oppress me, as
ff he hoped in me to destroy that whole stock of
honesty and innocency which he mortaUy hates.
"In this great distress I had no remedy but
patience : how far that was fi:om a reward, judge
ye, for near thuty years' suffering by land and sea,
and the hazard of our Uves over and over, with the
many services of your father, and the expense of aU
tUe moneys we could prociue, and seven years' im
prisonment, with the death and beggary of many
eminent persons of our famUy, who, when they first

LADY FANSHAWE. 409
entered the King's service, had great and clear
estates. " Add to this the careful management of the
King's honoiu in the Spanish court, after my hus
band's death, which I thought myself bound to
maintain, although I had not, God is my witness,
above twenty-five doubloons by me when he died,
to bring bome a famUy of tUree-score servants, but
was forced to seU one thousand pounds' worth of
our ovra plate, and to spend the Queen's present of
two thousand doubloons in my journey to England,
not ovring or leaving one shilling debt in Spain,
I thank God, nor did my husband leave any debt
at home, which every ambassador cannot say.
" Neither did these cuciimstances following pre
vaU to mend my condition, much less found I that
compassion I expected upon the view of myseff, that
had lost at once my husband and foi-time in him,
with my son but twelve months old in. my arms, four
daughters, the eldest but thUteen years of age, with
the body of my dear husband daily in my sight for
near six months together, and a distressed famUy,
aU to be by me in honour and honesty provided for ; ..
and, to add to my affiictions, neither persons sent to
conduct me, nor pass, nor shij), nor money, to carry
me one thousand mUes, but some few letters of
compliment fi-om the chief nUnisters, bidding ' Sod
help me !' as they do to beggars — and they might
have added, ' they had notlUng for me,' with great
trath."

410 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
This catalogue of grievances is a heavy account
against the ungrateful, and cold-hearted, and pro
fligate monarch who could raise thousands every
day to gratffy the most degrading propensities : who
could forget, in the indulgence of every vicious
passion, the doom of his father, the v\a'ongs of his
people fataUy avenged, the ruin of his friends, and
the destraction of his country. Who can wonder
that the degenerate race of Stuart, in whom every
spark of theu once glorious and noble nature was
crushed out and smothered in dust and ashes, should
be despised, contemned, and driven from the throne
they had occupied too long ; for from the hard
hearted pedant, James, to his bigoted grandson,
what, but a line of worthless or wicked men, is to
be remembered !
Estate after estate, belonging to the family of
Fanshawe, were the impoverished descendants
obUged to seU.
"TUus," she continues, "in the fourth genera
tion, the chief of our famUy, since they came into
the south, for theu sufferings for the Crown, sold
the flower of theu estates, and near two thousand
pounds a-year more. Very pathetical is the motto
of our arms for us : ' The victory is in the Cross.'*
j^9P In Cruce Victoria." Another motto of the Fanshawe
famly was, " Dux vitse ratio."
A comical story is told respecting these mottoes : " When Sir
Richard was ambassador, and traveUing in Spain, in an EngUsh
carriage, with his arms upon it, surrounded by those two mottoes,
a crowd of peasants gathering round the unusual sight of so many

LADY FANSHAWE. 411
The memoU of Lady Fanshawe, which suppUes
the materials for her Ufe, ends in tUe year 1670 ;
and the last recorded event, is the death of her
father, who was far advanced in lffe, and had been
twice married. She lamented his loss greatly;
and felt that, for the future, sorrow and mourning
were to be her portion; sometimes she was even
tempted to leave the world, and tetue alone into
some soUtude ; but her chUdren's interests prevaUed,
and she resigned herself to her fate.
Su Richard, the husband who was so dear to
her, was an accomplished man, master of several lan
guages, and a poet. He translated the " Pastor Fido"
of Guarini. Some portions of Horace and VUgU.
" The Faithful Shepherdess " of John Fletcher, he
translated from EngUsh to Latin ; and gave an
EnglisU version of the " Lusiad of Camoens."
In 1671, several years after his death, some
pieces of his were publisUed ; one caUed, " Querer
per solo querer," — " To Love for Love's Sake ;" a
drama, played before the King and Queen of Spain,
translated by him from the Spanish ; and another,
by the same author, caUed " Fiestas de Aranjuez,'-
" The Festivals of Ajranjuez." These were the
fruits of his forced leisure, whUe a prisoner on baU,
at Tankersley Park, in Yorkshue.
foreigners, in a town where they stopped for refreshment, were
very clamorous, with a priest, who happened to be amongst them,
for an explanation ofthe Latin; which being beyond his skUl, he
informed them that the coach belonged to the Duke of Vitce Ratio
¦who had done great things for the Cross.

413 EMINENT ENGLISHWOMEN.
It was then he wrote the foUowing original Unes,
which are not vritUbut grace :
" Time was, when I, a pilgrim of the seas.
When I, midst no-ise of camps and courts' dis-ease.
Purloin 'd -some hours, to charm rude cares with verse,
Which flame of Faithful Shepherd did rehearse.
" But now, restrained from sea, from camp, from court.
And by a tempest blown into a port,
I raise my thoughts to muse of higher things.
And echo arms and loves of queens and kings.
" Which queens — despising crowns and Hymen's band,
Would neither man obey, nor man command ;
Great pleasure, from rough seas to see the shore.
Or, from firm land, to hear the bUlows' roar."
Lady Fanshawe found rest in the grave, after aH
her trials, in the year 1679-80, dying in her
fifty-fifth year. "She gave directions, in her wUl,
that her body should be buried close by her
husband's, which desue was dutffuUy obeyed by
her chUdren.

END OF VOL. II.

R. CLA.K, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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