LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 MRS. HENRY ADAMS
 
 The Fair Ladies of 
 Hampton Court
 
 .. ^^ .^ytt^ i§cxi 

 
 The Fair Ladies of 
 Hampton Court 
 
 By 
 
 Clare Jerrold 
 
 With Introduction by Walter Jerrold 
 
 **/ have beauties to unfold^'' — George Wither 
 
 "With Photogravure Portrait and Twenty-one 
 other Portraits 
 
 Boston 
 
 Little, Brown, and Company 
 1911
 
 All rights reserved
 
 i . \ 
 
 SAxYTA BARBARA 
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER FACE 
 
 I. The Matchless Beauties . . -13 
 
 II. Anne Hyde, Duchess of York . . 27 
 
 III. Barbara Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland 45 
 
 IV. Frances Stuart, Duchess of Richmond . 76 
 V. Mrs. Jane Middleton . . .110 
 
 VI. Mary Bagot, Countess of Falmouth . 122 
 
 VII. Elizabeth Hamilton, Comtessede Gramont 131 
 
 VIII. Margaret Brooke, Lady Denham . .151 
 
 IX. Frances Brooke, Lady Whitmore . . 167 
 
 X. Susan Armine, Lady Belasyse . .172 
 
 XI. Elizabeth Wriothesley, Countess of 
 
 Northumberland . . . • 183 
 
 XII. Henrietta Boyle, Countess of Rochester 203 
 
 XIII. Anne Digby, Countess of Sunderland . 210 
 
 XIV. Louise Renee de Keroualle, Duchess of 
 
 Portsmouth . . . . 229 
 
 XV. Carey Eraser, Countess of Peterborough 273 
 
 XVI. Frances Whitmore, Lady Middleton . 281 
 
 XVII. Isabella Bennet, Duchess of Grafton . 284 
 
 XVIII. Diana de Vere, Duchess of St. Albans . 293 
 
 XIX. Margaret Cecil, Countess of Ranelagh . 299 
 
 XX. Mary Compton, Countess of Dorset . 304 
 
 XXI. Mary Bentinck, Countess of Essex . .310 
 
 Index . . . . '313
 
 List of Illustrations 
 
 Miss Pitt, afterwards Mrs. Scrope (after Kneller) 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 Princess Mary, later Queen of England, as to face 
 
 ' -^ PAGE 
 
 Diana (after Lely) . . . . 14 
 
 Anne Hyde, Duchess of York (after Lely) . . 8 
 
 Barbara Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland, as Minerva 
 
 (after Lely) . . ... 46 
 
 Frances Stuart, Duchess of Richmond, as Diana 
 
 (after Lely) . . ... 76 
 
 Mrs. Jane Middleton . . (after Lely) no 
 
 Mary Bagot, Countess of Falmouth ,, .122 
 
 Elizabeth Hamilton, Countess OF Gramont ,, .132 
 
 Margaret Brooke, Lady Denham . ,, .152 
 
 Frances Brooke, Lady Whitmore . ,, .168 
 
 SusanArminEjLady Belasyse, as St. Catherine ,, . 172 
 
 Elizabeth "Wriothesley, Countess of Northumber- 
 land (after Lely) . . . . 1 84 
 
 Henrietta Boyle, Countess of Rochester (after 
 
 Lely) . . ... 204 
 
 Anne Digby, Countess of Sunderland (after Lely) 210 
 
 Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth, as 
 
 Flora (after Verelst) . . . . 230 
 
 Carey Eraser, Countess of Peterborough (after 
 
 Kneller) . . . . . 274 
 
 Frances Whitmore, Lady Middleton (after Kneller) 282
 
 8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 TO FACE FAGK 
 
 Isabella Bennet, Duchess of Grafton (after Kneller) 284 
 Diana de Vere, Duchess of St. Albans „ . 294 
 
 Margaret Cecil, Countess of Ranelagh ,, . 300 
 
 Mary Compton, Countess of Dorset . ,, . 304 
 
 Mary Bentinck, Countess of Essex . „ .310
 
 Introduction 
 
 The irresponsible gaiety — the sacrificing of everything to the pleasure 
 of the moment — that marked the beginning of the short period during 
 which England endured the restored Stuarts has often been spoken 
 of as a mere natural reaction against the puritanical repression of the 
 Commonwealth period. The point has perhaps been stressed over- 
 much. It may be doubted whether the Court life of the Second 
 Charles was anything much more than a local fever; it may be believed 
 that the people as a whole retained something of mens sana in corpora 
 sano. Samuel Pepys wrote significantly in his diary in 1668 "the 
 business of abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale and of no use, 
 they being the people that, at last, will be found the wisest." 
 Even when quarter of a century of faithlessness and frivolity had 
 done its worst to undermine the stability of the nation it was able 
 to make a quick recovery after the scuttling of James the Second, 
 a saturnine rake who lacked even the superficial attractiveness of his 
 brother. 
 
 The period of those two reigns, 1660 to 1688, looms almost unduly 
 large in our history. It was one which as a nation we may well 
 look back upon without pride as one in which British prestige 
 reached its nadir ; a period the record of which is marked by 
 little that is noble, by much that was ignoble — and the ignoble was 
 largely connected with the Court and its influence, the noble was 
 something in despite of it. The study of morbid manifestations may, 
 however, as surely have its sociological value when they appear in. 
 the body corporate as pathologically they have when they appear in the 
 individual. This is perhaps in part the reason why the story of the 
 prominent personages about the " Merry Monarch's " Court has some- 
 thing of perennial attraction for many readers. It is a story full of 
 life and colour, a story of the play of human passions, of pleasure and 
 other forms of self-seeking, of jealousy and intrigue almost without 
 restraint, and of the various causes that help to make that story a particu- 
 larly vivid one. Contemporary pictures, diaries, letters, and memoirs 
 combine to make the years that followed the Restoration the earliest 
 period that we can know with such a degree of intimacy, as enables us 
 at once to visualize and realize men and women as they were. 
 
 The author of this volume has explained the circumstances in which 
 the dual series of portraits that have come to be known as the Hampton 
 
 9
 
 10 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Court Beauties were painted, but here it may be pointed out that 
 modern portrait painting may in one sense be said to date from the 
 days of Charles the Second. There had been other — and greater — 
 portrait painters before Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfrey Kneller, but 
 it was in their time that the exercise of the art seems to have widened 
 so that everybody who was anybody had to be "immortalized" on canvas 
 — almost as inevitably as to-day everybody who is nobody has to be given 
 the fleeting immortality of the photograph. To the fact that we can see 
 them, if not in the habit as they lived, at least in the habit as they 
 posed, we owe something of our interest in the varied women whose 
 life stories are here sketched. If to the portrait painters we owe it 
 that we can see what sort of women it was who gave colour to 
 Charles's Court, to the diarists, letter writers, and other pen-and-ink 
 gossipers of the period we owe it that we can also learn something of 
 their characters — that we can contrast the grasping self-seeking of 
 Louise de Keroualle with the simple self-abandonment of Nell Gwyn, 
 the gay irresponsibility of " La Belle Stuart " with the dignified 
 purity of " La Belle Hamilton." Thanks to these writers, as has 
 been said, the closing decades of the seventeenth century are made more 
 intimately real to us than any earlier period — what would we not give 
 for the diaries of some Samuel Pepys and John Evelyn of the reigns 
 of James the First and his predecessors ? If to full diaries we owe 
 something of our knowledge of the time in which these "Beauties" 
 lived, they and their lives may be regarded as not having been without 
 an indirect influence upon literature, for we seem in the satires of Pope 
 to get an expression of the reaction against the earlier looseness of all 
 moral ties — though his time had by no means become strait-laced ! 
 
 Pope may, indeed, be regarded as having summed up several of the 
 Court ladies in his essay concerning " the Characters of Women," and we 
 may find many of them whom the whimsical contrarieties of "Narcissa" 
 would fit: 
 
 " Narcissa's nature, tolerably mild, 
 To make a wash, would hardly stew a child ; 
 Has ev'n been proved to grant a Lover's prayer, 
 And paid a Tradesman once to make him stare ; 
 Gave Alms at Easter, in a Christian trim, 
 And made a Widow happy, for a whim. 
 Why then declare Good-nature is her scorn, 
 When 'tis alone by that she can be borne ? 
 Why pique all mortals, yet aftect a name ? 
 A fool to Pleasure, yet a slave to Fame : 
 Now deep in Taylor and the Book of Martyrs, 
 Now drinking Citron with his Grace and Chartres : 
 Now Conscience chills her, and now Passion burns ; 
 And Atheism and Religion take their turns ; 
 A very Heathen in the carnal part, 
 Yet still a sad, good Christian at her heart." 
 
 Walter Jerrold
 
 PART I 
 
 SIR PETER LELY
 
 LELY 
 
 " Not as of old, when a rough hand did speak. 
 A strong aspect, and a fair face, a weak ; 
 When only a black beard cried villain, and 
 By Hieroglyphicks we could understand ; 
 When crystal typified in a white spot. 
 And the bright ruby was but one red blot ; 
 Thou dost the thing orientally the same 
 Not only paintst its colour, but its flame ; 
 Thou sorrow canst design without a tear, 
 And with the man his very hope or fear ; 
 So that th' amazed world shall henceforth find 
 None but my Lely ever drew a mind." 
 
 Richard Lovelace.
 
 THE FAIR LADIES OF 
 HAMPTON COURT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 
 
 " Oh, Kneller ! like thy pictures were my song, 
 Clear like thy paint, and like thy pencil strong, 
 The Matchless Beauties should recorded be, 
 Immortal in my verse, as in thy gallery." 
 
 Lord Lansdowne. 
 
 About one hundred and fifty years ago two sisters, 
 renowned for their beauty, EHzabeth and Maria 
 Gunning, went to see Hampton Court. The dozen 
 pictures, known at that time as " The Hampton Court 
 Beauties," were then without rivals in the building, 
 and all visitors made a point of seeing them, being 
 conducted by the housekeeper, who — another instance 
 of the shameless way in which modern woman has 
 stolen the work of the stronger sex — was always, 
 at that period, a man. As the housekeeper was 
 deferentially guiding the fair Gunnings through 
 the rooms, he saw a number of sightseers in the 
 doorway, and, wishing to combine the two parties, 
 called out : 
 
 " This way, ladies ; this way to the Beauties ! " 
 
 13
 
 14 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 The Gunning sisters started as though a bomb had 
 burst before them ; their faces crimsoned, their eyes 
 flashed, and, turning simultaneously upon the man, 
 they cried in voices shaking with anger : 
 
 " How dare you insult us like this ? Are we 
 never to be at ease, or to see a public place with- 
 out being mobbed and persecuted ? We came here 
 to see the pictures, not to be made a show to the 
 crowd ! " 
 
 We are told that they stormed and raved to the 
 wondering horror of the innocent housekeeper, and 
 to the week-long joy of their laughing friends. It is 
 a pity that their portraits are not also at Hampton 
 Court, that we might compare yet another generation 
 of loveliness with those which now hang on the walls 
 of the great rooms. 
 
 It was Mary of Orange who, fired by the example 
 of her mother in regard to Sir Peter Lely, determined, 
 while King William was on one of his long absences, to 
 commission Sir Godfrey Kneller to paint the pictures 
 of the most beautiful ladies of her Court, and it is said 
 that this action contributed to make her very un- 
 popular. Lady Dorchester advised her against it with 
 the argument : 
 
 " Madam, if the King were to ask for the portraits 
 of all the wits of his Court, would not the rest think 
 he called them fools ? " 
 
 The Queen, however, would not be dissuaded, and 
 ordered twelve portraits to be painted of the best- 
 looking ladies who either attended upon her or were 
 frequently in her retinue, Kneller being knighted for 
 his performance, receiving a medal and a chain worth 
 ^300. These portraits were first hung in the Water
 
 Prinxess Mary, later Queen of England, as Diana 
 
 (^Afler Lely) 
 
 [to face face 14
 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 15 
 
 Gallery, for at that time the King's and Queen's 
 Apartments round the Fountain Court were being 
 rebuilt, and Mary had her residence in the Water 
 Gallery, a building close upon the river. The portraits 
 remained there after the Queen's death, until, the 
 new palace being completed, that gallery was pulled 
 down, as it obstructed the view of the river. The 
 pictures were then put in a room directly under the 
 King's Guard Chamber, which was thenceforth called 
 the Beauty Room, and is now known as the Oak Room. 
 When in 1850 various alterations were made in the 
 arrangements of this palace with its thousand apart- 
 ments, Kneller's pictures were finally hung in King 
 William's Presence Chamber. 
 
 Only nine of the twelve portraits are now at the 
 Court, and these are all full-length figures in long, 
 dignified robes, placed high upon the dark oak walls 
 in not too good a light. They are perhaps somewhat 
 neglected by the public, being put into the shade by 
 those other Beauties brought from Windsor Castle a 
 century ago, the fair, frail beauties of the Restoration. 
 In early days these latter were known as the Windsor 
 Beauties, but how can such a distinction be carried 
 on through the years ? Ninety-nine people out of a 
 hundred in speaking of the Hampton Court Beauties 
 think chiefly of the women of the Court of Charles II, 
 who gaze sleepily from their bright canvases, holding 
 some flowing and impossible clothing to their bared 
 breasts, often against a background of woodland and 
 stream. 
 
 There seems to have been no disapprobation ex- 
 pressed when Anne Hyde, the Duchess of York, com- 
 missioned Lely to paint the pictures of the fair
 
 1 6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 dames who helped to make Charles's Court something 
 more than merely gay ; and it is quite likely that 
 James had as much to do with the choice o£ subjects 
 as his wife, while Charles had more to do with it 
 than either. When it came to the painting it was 
 a foregone conclusion that Lady Castlemaine would 
 stand first, and indeed Lely painted her portrait 
 many times. To mention her is to think of the 
 pretty, childish, elusive Frances Stuart, whose virtue 
 has been as much discussed as that of Lady Blessington, 
 though with perhaps a somewhat clearer result. The 
 beautiful, high-spirited Elizabeth Hamilton must have 
 been painted early in the list, for she went from the 
 Court before many years had passed over it. Nell 
 Gwyn, the single-hearted, was limned by Lely more 
 than once, but unfortunately Hampton Court Palace 
 does not possess a single picture of the woman 
 who, content with a comparatively modest in- 
 come, demanded no honours for herself from her 
 King. 
 
 Lely's pictures of the Duchess of Portsmouth are 
 not here, though there is one by a Dutch painter 
 named Verelst, which was brought from Kensington, 
 showing her in a red robe as Flora. That Lady 
 Belasyse should have shared in the honour would have 
 been anything but pleasing to the Duchess if she 
 could have foreseen a little beyond her own death ; 
 and there can be no doubt that she would willingly 
 have forbidden the inclusion in her gallery of the 
 fair Margaret Brooke, who married Lord Denham, 
 and whose early death caused such widespread scandal. 
 Anne's own portrait is not the least interesting of the 
 group, for she was very typical of the women of her
 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 17 
 
 day — the women who seem to have shared equally 
 with the men in the terrible reaction against Puritan- 
 ism ; but this portrait has never been engraved and 
 thus cannot be included. 
 
 There were those who would attribute the worst of 
 Charles's faults to the ladies of his Court. Bishop 
 Burnet says that the King was debauched by his mis- 
 tresses, an absurd statement, seeing that in character 
 Charles was wilful, vain, idle, and pleasure-loving. 
 Before the Restoration a thoughtful Englishman re- 
 marked that if Charles were invited to wear the crown 
 it would mean that the government of the kingdom 
 would be given over to courtesans and sycophants — 
 his language was of a simpler, coarser kind. " What 
 shall we do with such a King ? " asked another. " In 
 Brussels he dances night and day ; he does nothing 
 but dance and hunt." And, indeed, when Charles was 
 penniless his trouble was, not that he could not feed 
 the people w'ho clustered round him, but that he could 
 not pay a fiddler for the dance. That was Charles to 
 the day of his death ! He flung hundreds of thou- 
 sands of pounds away upon the dance of life, and 
 starved the servants in his kitchen. The very figure 
 of the dance showed his character ; to bow, to ad- 
 vance and retire ; to set to this partner and to that ; 
 to pursue, to embrace — it was the beginning and 
 ending of life for him, and generally it mattered little 
 who was his partner, for to such a universal lover every 
 pretty face was w^elcome. 
 
 Yet to a great extent Charles was moulded by his 
 times. He had many of his father's characteristics — 
 that father for whom he had felt both admiration 
 and affection ; he had narrowly escaped from his own 
 
 B
 
 1 8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 country and had been obliged to live hardly in France, 
 in Coblentz, in Holland ; in proportion as he had 
 suffered he hated the Puritans, whom he regarded as 
 the cause of his suffering ; and in that hatred he 
 included all their ways and customs. There were 
 many to encourage him in his resentment, for Royalists 
 had been obliged to send their boys abroad for safety 
 and education, causing them to imbibe the thoughts 
 and habits of the French. In Paris they were con- 
 firmed in their papistry and encouraged in their scorn 
 of the Roundheads. They also learned many other 
 things which had no place in the Court of Charles I, 
 who at least lived a pure domestic life ; and when at 
 last the chance came, they brought to England all 
 their French accomplishments, with which to enliven 
 and pollute the nation. 
 
 The Restoration was a wild carnival played out 
 by a delirious people and an irresponsible King. For 
 fifteen years Charles had lived from hand to mouth, 
 upon a dole from France, gifts from his family and 
 people, and loans from others. His purse, his mistress, 
 and his dance were the only things that had filled his 
 mind. Occasionally when abroad he had been obliged 
 to walk circumspectly because the people of the town 
 in which he resided hated his ways, his wild life, his 
 profanation of the Sabbath, and his followers ; but 
 England was his own as soon as he set foot upon its 
 shores, and though he had made many good resolutions 
 they scarcely survived the journey to London. 
 
 What could such a man make of the art of govern- 
 ment, and what could the crown mean to such a mind 
 but greater opportunity for licence ? There is no 
 doubt that Charles meant to be a good king ; he was
 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 19 
 
 kind-hearted and generous, and he intended at first 
 to show gratitude to his friends, but these sentiments 
 could not outHve the desire of the moment ; they 
 evaporated, and all that was left was a determination 
 to amuse himself and to be revenged on his old 
 enemies. He was always poor, while those around 
 him grew rich ; he could no more resist a personal 
 request for money than he could willingly pay a debt ; 
 he would allow a rapacious woman to take thousands 
 from him, to sell places, to rob the country's exchequer, 
 while he himself went about without a coin in his 
 pocket. On one occasion he and his brother, with 
 some of their friends, spent the greater part of the 
 night in a hostel drinking and card-playing, but mostly 
 drinking ; and when they would have gone away 
 they could not among them muster enough money 
 to pay the reckoning. Consulting as to what they 
 should do, the King's eyes fell upon one of his com- 
 panions, Tom Sheridan, who was helplessly drunk ; 
 so they all slipped away, telling their host that the 
 gentleman left behind would pay — which Sheridan 
 had to do in the morning ! 
 
 Colley Cibber tells a story illustrating Charles's 
 usual state of poverty. Nell Gwyn gave a concert 
 of music in her private lodgings, at which the King 
 and the Duke of York were present, also one or two 
 others who were generally admitted to these little 
 parties. When the performance was over the King 
 expressed himself as being highly pleased, and gave 
 the musicians extraordinary commendation. 
 
 " Then, Sir," said the lady, " to show you don't 
 speak like a courtier, I hope you will make them a 
 handsome present."
 
 20 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 The King said he had no money about him and 
 asked the Duke if he had any, to which James replied : 
 " I behevc, Sir, I have only a guinea or two." 
 Upon which Nell, laughing and turning to the 
 people about her, cried : 
 
 " Od's fish ! what company am I got into ? " 
 Poor obstinate James seems to have been more 
 objectionable than his brother in his amours. Charles 
 frankly fell in love — of sorts — while James followed 
 intrigue because he felt it to be the thing to do. We 
 never hear of his being unhappy because a beauty 
 would not smile upon him, or of enduring the tempers 
 and threats of a light woman whom he loved too 
 much to dismiss. He was cold and selfish at heart, 
 but he belonged to his time and felt that he 
 would be out of fashion if he did not show to his 
 gentlemen an example of princely luxury and aban- 
 donment. 
 
 When William III sat upon the throne and bullied 
 his wife, and when his meek spouse Mary determined 
 to have her ladies painted, she was at least saved the 
 indignity of causing the faces of the women who 
 made her most unhappy to live for all time. In her 
 gallery the depraved Villiers sisters do not appear, nor 
 is there a single lady in whom the King showed an 
 interest too great for her soul's health. Indeed, 
 though William was by no means impeccable, he 
 was so far restrained that the lampooners of his 
 day had nothing to say about his amorous sins. 
 They crystallized the character of the Court in very 
 different sentiments. 
 
 " There's Mary the daughter, there's Willie the cheater, 
 There's Geordic the drinker, there's Annie the eater," 
 
 I
 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 21 
 
 is an example of the wit of the day, while an- 
 other verse might have served for the original of 
 Jack Sprat : 
 
 " Man and wife are all one, in flesh and in bone, 
 From hence you may guess what they mean. 
 The Queen drinks chocolat to make the King fat. 
 The King hunts to make the Queen lean." 
 
 Thus the gossips were concerned rather with the 
 faults which affected principally the Royal pair both 
 in their exercise and results than with those vices 
 which acted widely upon all around them, so the 
 names of the Beauties of Hampton Court will 
 perhaps raise more curiosity than interest, for, 
 indeed, they have been treated with too much in- 
 difference to be quite pleasant to one who would 
 now seek to piece together their stories. 
 
 Who is Miss Pitt ? What Mr. Scrope did she 
 marry ? Diarists, satirists, memoirists, historians, 
 lampooners, all are silent. Not one has written her 
 nam.e, not one has praised or slighted her. Even the 
 omniscient Burke ignores her, and yet if she were about 
 the Queen's person she must have belonged to a family 
 which is chronicled in his pages. There was a Mary 
 Scrope who married John Pitt, great-uncle to the 
 great William of eighteenth - century fame, who 
 must have lived in the time of William and Mary. 
 Can it be possible that a mistake was made in the 
 labelling of the picture which used to be designated 
 Mrs. Pitt, afterwards Mrs. Scrope ? At that time 
 Miss was regarded as an infamous title, and all the 
 maids of honour were spoken of as "Mrs." Perhaps 
 it should in reality have been Miss Serif pe, ajterzvards 
 Mrs. Pitt ; for there have been many mistakes made
 
 22 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 over these pictures. Lady Belasyse, for example, 
 was long known as Lady Byron ; Lady Falmouth was 
 labelled Lady Orrery ; and Frances Brooke has been 
 mistaken for Lady Southesk ; while Margaret Brooke 
 is called to this day Elizabeth Brooke — so it may well 
 be that there was some transposition of the names of 
 Scrope and Pitt. 
 
 On the other hand, this Miss Pitt may have been 
 Dorothy, sister to the old adventurous Thomas Pitt, 
 the Governor of Fort St. George, the " Diamond " 
 Pitt who ought to have made a huge fortune over 
 the buying and selling of the great stone known as 
 the Regent Diamond, but who never received more 
 than the first instalment of his price. Whoever she 
 was, sweet, youthful Miss or Mrs. Pitt, in her pink 
 dress, posed in Kneller's conventional fashion with 
 arm outstretched, must go undescribed, and so she 
 has the first place in this book, for she alone of the 
 Beauties remains a mystery. There may be some one 
 possessing the secret of her identity, but for my pur- 
 pose the secret has proved elusive. 
 
 A word as to the painters. Sir Peter Lely was 
 most certainly the best painter of his time, a state- 
 ment which a comparison of the pictures to-day 
 proves. His colours are still bright, while those of 
 Kneller have toned into dullness ; his faces are ex- 
 pressive, we may call them sleepy, or find an unusual 
 resemblance among them, yet they give the idea of 
 life and animation ; his backgrounds are beautiful, and 
 he had the daring to throw draperies around his 
 figures which fitted in with his conception of the 
 picture as a whole rather than hung as useful clothes
 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 23 
 
 upon the fair dame — " a night-gown fastened with a 
 single pin," to quote Lady Mary Wortley Montagu : 
 only it is necessary to remember that night-gown in 
 Charles's days meant what we now call evening dress ; 
 a night-rail was the sleeping garment. As Horace 
 Walpole says : " Lely's women are certainly much 
 handsomer than those of Vandyck. They please as 
 much more as they are evidently meant to please. . . . 
 I don't know whether even in softness of the flesh 
 he did not exceed his predecessor. The beauties at 
 Windsor are the Court of Paphos, and ought to be 
 engraved for the memoirs of its charming historio- 
 grapher, Count Hamilton " (who wrote the Memoirs 
 of Count Gramont). 
 
 Lely sometimes copied, or had copied, his own 
 pictures, altering only the face to make it suit another 
 person. Lady Southesk at Narbonne and Frances 
 Brooke at Hampton Court are examples of this ; also 
 Ann Kellaway, a plain woman of mature age, is some- 
 times erroneously dubbed Princess Mary, though the 
 latter picture is of a slight pretty child of about 
 fourteen, which has caused some curious mistakes 
 among those writing about the pictures. 
 
 As for origin ; Lely ought to have been named 
 Vander Vaas, but his father, being born at the Hague 
 in a perfumer's shop known as The Lily, was generally 
 called Captain du Lys, and he gave his son the name, 
 which in England was variously spelled Lily, Lillie, 
 Lely, and probably in other ways. He came to 
 England in 1641 or 1643, and painted innumerable 
 portraits until 1680, when he died suddenly of apo- 
 plexy. He was extremely vain and very luxurious. 
 Pepys tells of visiting him and noting the wonder-
 
 24 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 ful state in which the painter's dinner-table was 
 laid. 
 
 Sir Godfrey Kneller's fame did not arise in England 
 until after 1670, but he had plenty of time in which 
 to awaken the jealousy of Lely, and in which to do 
 much work that the older painter regarded as legiti- 
 mately his. However, there was such a passion for 
 portraits at that time that there was more than room 
 for both of them, and Lely was noble enough to extol 
 the abilities of his rival. Kneller was knighted by 
 William in 1692 as a reward for his pictures of the 
 Beauties, though it is not certain that he had actually 
 finished all the portraits by that date. 
 
 He was precise as to style, careless as to work, 
 avaricious for money. The fashion of head-dress in 
 his day took the form of an extraordinary three- 
 story erection of lace rising straight up from the 
 head, with ends falling on each side to rest on the 
 shoulders. Kneller induced his sitters to discard these 
 atrocities and painted their faces surrounded with 
 something more natural as an adornment. He pre- 
 ferred interiors to the woodland background, and 
 clothed his ladies in long, decorous, stately robes. 
 He worked with extraordinary rapidity, and was 
 sometimes so hurried that he would occasionally 
 leave a corner of his canvas entirely untouched, 
 a carelessness which was assiduously copied by his 
 pupils. 
 
 If Lely was vain, there seems to be no word ade- 
 quate to describe Kneller's high appreciation of him- 
 self, but he may be forgiven it for the wit which he 
 possessed. He was also the easiest person in the world 
 to flatter, so easy that it is said Pope once laid a
 
 THE MATCHLESS BEAUTIES 25 
 
 wager that there was no flattery so gross that Kneller 
 would not accept it. To prove it he remarked one 
 day : 
 
 " Sir Godfrey, I believe if God Almighty had 
 had your assistance the world would have been 
 made more perfect." 
 
 To which Kneller replied emphatically : 
 
 " 'Fore God, sir, I believe so." 
 
 One day Kneller heard a man cursing himself and 
 said : 
 
 " God damn yoii ? God may damn the Duke of 
 Marlborough, and perhaps Sir Godfrey Kneller ; but 
 do you think he will take the trouble of damning such 
 a scoundrel as you ? " 
 
 He allowed his neighbour, Dr. Ratcliffe, to make a 
 door in his garden which divided the two houses, but 
 when he found that Ratcliffe's servants destroyed his 
 flowers, he sent word to the doctor that the door 
 must be fastened up. " Tell him he may do any- 
 thing with it but paint it," was the snappy answer ; 
 to which Kneller sent the reply : " And I can take 
 anything from him but physic." A tailor who once 
 asked him to train his son as an artist received 
 the reply : " Dost thou think, man, I can make thy 
 son a painter ? No ! God Almighty only makes 
 painters." 
 
 Kneller amassed a great fortune and died in 
 1723, being buried at Whitton, in Middlesex, though 
 a monument was raised to him in Westminster 
 Abbey. 
 
 Verelst, whose portrait of the Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth hangs in the Beauty Room, was a Dutch painter 
 of flowers, egged on by the Duke of Buckingham to
 
 26 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 become a portrait painter. His first attempts in that 
 direction were so crowded with flowers that the real 
 subject o£ the picture could scarcely be seen ; how- 
 ever, he became popular in time, and helped to send 
 Lely into retirement at Kew.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 
 
 " A Prince like a pear, which rotten at core is, 
 With a court that takes millions, and yet as Job poor is." 
 
 Old Sofig. 
 
 Anne Hyde, Duchess of York, has never been popu- 
 lar or remarkable among historical characters. The 
 fact that she was not of royal blood has probably- 
 been sufficient to decrease her importance, and the 
 further fact that she showed no interest in political 
 intrigue, and was content with ordering her own house, 
 has put her among those princesses of whom we know 
 little more than the name. Her picture, however, 
 hangs among the Beauties of Charles's Court, 
 for she was painted many times by various artists, 
 and as she gave the master portrait-painter his com- 
 mission to produce for her a series of the handsomest 
 women about the Court, it is but fitting that she 
 should stand first in this history of the originals of 
 those pictures. 
 
 Anne was the daughter of Edward Hyde, a com- 
 moner of good family, who was called to the Bar in 
 1633, and who, all through the Civil War, did his 
 utmost to induce his sovereign to follow a strictly 
 legal course in his quarrels with Parliament. This 
 advice was often diametrically opposed to that of the 
 
 27
 
 28 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Queen, for which reason Henrietta A'laria soon took a 
 violent disHke to him, a disHke which later she felt 
 just as keenly for his daughter. Hyde was knighted 
 in 1643 and appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer. 
 During the exile of the young Charles he was his chief 
 adviser, being always anxious not only to see him 
 crowned as king, but to save monarchy in England. 
 His constant advice was, " Have a little patience ! " 
 for restoration without bloodshed was his aim ; an 
 advice and aim which were both fully justified. 
 On the return of Charles to England Hyde was made 
 Baron Hyde of Hindon, and at the coronation he 
 became Viscount Cornbury and Earl of Clarendon. 
 
 Anne, who was born in 1637, ^^^ ^^^ eldest daughter, 
 and she, with all the family, fled to Antwerp in 1649. 
 Four years later the Princess Royal of England, the 
 Princess of Orange, gave the Hydes a residence at 
 Breda, and in a few months made Anne one of her 
 maids of honour, thus much annoying Queen Henrietta 
 Maria and drawing a very reluctant consent from 
 Edward Hyde. The appointment, however, gave 
 great pleasure to the lively Queen of Bohemia, aunt 
 to the Princess, who openly wrote and spoke of Anne 
 as her favourite. " Tell Mr. Chancellor his lady and 
 my favourite came hither Saturday and are gone this 
 day to Teyling [the Princess's country house]. I 
 find my favourite from every way to her advantage." 
 She also says how very fit she thinks Anne is to fill the 
 post of maid of honour. While at Teyling Anne was 
 present at a fancy ball in the character of a shepherdess, 
 and in her soft girlishncss of sweet seventeen looked 
 very pretty, the general opinion being that, excepting 
 the Princess, she was the handsomest woman present.
 
 Anne Hyde, Duchess of York 
 
 {After Lelv) 
 
 [to kace page 28
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 29 
 
 At this time Miss Hyde, or, as the custom of the 
 day was, Mrs. Hyde, had many admirers. Charles 
 himself paid her attention, though it never entered his 
 head that she could become a member of his family. 
 She was the prettiest and liveliest girl in the Princess's 
 household, and every man acknowledged the fact. 
 Sir Spencer Compton was passionately in love with 
 her, so much so that it was the gossip of the whole 
 circle. This young man was the son of the Earl of 
 Northampton, and w^as said to be of so brave a nature 
 that when only a child, incapable of grasping a pistol, 
 he cried with indignation that he was not allowed 
 to share in his brother's dangers. Charles and others 
 were discussing his affection for Anne one day when 
 Charles said : 
 
 " Well, I will see whether Sir Spencer is so much 
 in love as you say ; I will speak of Mrs. Hyde before 
 him as if by chance, and unless he be very much 
 smitten he will not be at all moved by it." 
 
 Charles Berkeley, later Lord Falmouth and husband 
 of another Beauty, the terrible little Henry Jermyn, 
 the Earl of Arran, Talbot, and Thomas Killigrew, all 
 flitted around her, ready enough to pass some time 
 of their exile in flirting with the Chancellor's daughter. 
 It is impossible to say whether these were especially 
 bad men, or whether the standard of morals and 
 honour was so extremely low that bad actions seemed 
 good to them, or whether, on the other hand, they 
 considered that any means justified the end ; but 
 a few years later these five men did their utmost to 
 ruin Anne, and for a time it seemed as though their 
 plot would succeed. 
 
 Early in 1656 Anne went with the Princess of
 
 30 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Orange to visit Henrietta Maria in Paris, and there 
 she met the Duke of York, who was then twenty- two 
 and " full of reputation and honour " from the two 
 campaigns he had served in against the Spaniards. 
 It is not unlikely that the young people fell in love 
 with each other at that time, but if so they had to 
 separate when the visit ended, and they did not again 
 meet for a long while. On hearing of the death of 
 Oliver Cromwell, James withdrew from the army 
 and went to Brussels and Breda to be near Charles, 
 and at the latter place he again met Anne. It was in 
 November, 1659, that he entered into some sort of / 
 contract with her, which, while not really a marriage, 
 at least gave James, in his own opinion, all the rights 
 of marriage. Gramont says that this marriage " was 
 deficient in none of those circumstances which render 
 contracts of this nature valid in the eye of Heaven : 
 the mutual inclination, the formal ceremony, wit- 
 nesses, and every essential point of matrimony had 
 been observed." 
 
 The Duke was very much in love, and at first had 
 no thought of repentance, so that it may be certain 
 that for six months at least Anne was perfectly happy, 
 a state of blessedness which probably she never again 
 reached. For in May, 1660, James accompanied Charles 
 back to England, and both were surrounded with the 
 glory and power which a crown can confer. Then 
 came the time for repentance. The love of such men 
 as Charles and his brother was not exactly an exalted 
 sentiment, and it often died when novelty had gone. 
 So James reflected that he stood very near the throne ; 
 and as he looked upon the women who came to 
 Court, he saw that if it were true that he had married
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 31 
 
 the handsomest woman at Breda, there were many- 
 handsomer still to be found in London. From that 
 it was a short step to doubting whether he was married 
 at all. 
 
 He thought with horror o£ confessing his act to 
 Charles, who had already on more than one occasion 
 shown him how strongly he could resent any action of 
 which he disapproved ; he pictured a sort of universal 
 indignation when he made his news public, and at last 
 he virtuously came to the conclusion that his contract 
 was an infringement of the duty and obedience he 
 owed the King. But for one circumstance he might 
 have found in these arguments a sufficient reason for 
 repudiating his agreement with Anne, and that circum- 
 stance was that she was expecting soon to become a 
 mother. She used all the entreaties that any other 
 woman would have used to keep him faithful to her, 
 and James was torn between his desire to be free and 
 his desire not to be brutal to a girl whom he had a few 
 months earlier bound to him by most solemn promises. 
 Pepys, who was the most accomplished gossip London 
 ever produced, and who always either heard more than 
 other chroniclers or invented a little to embellish his 
 tale, says that Anne affirmed " that for certain 
 James did promise her marriage and had signed it with 
 his blood, but that he by stealth had got the paper 
 out of her cabinet." 
 
 His mind veering this way and that, James at 
 last consulted with his friends as to what course he 
 should pursue. The first person he went to was Sir 
 Charles Berkeley, who scoffed at the idea of there 
 being anything binding in the contract of marriage, 
 saying that a man in his position could not legally
 
 I 
 
 32 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 marry without first having the King's consent ; 
 and that it was a jest to suppose that the King's heir 
 could be wedded to the daughter of an insignificant 
 lawyer, who, though given a peerage, was not even of 
 noble blood. As for his tenderness of heart towards 
 the lady, he could soon rid himself of that if he would 
 but listen to what a few men of the Court could tell 
 him about Anne. 
 
 This raised James's curiosity, and also promised a 
 probable settlement of his doubts ; he therefore said he 
 would meet these courtiers and hear what they could 
 tell him. So Berkeley called together Arran, Jermyn, 
 Talbot, and Killigrew, " all men of honour," and 
 gave them some instructions ; he then introduced them 
 to the Duke's presence, and the latter in a somewhat 
 shamefaced way explained the situation, adding 
 that as the innocence of girls at her age was exposed 
 to Court scandal, and as certain reports true or false 
 were circulating as to her conduct, he trusted that 
 being his friends they would tell him all that they 
 knew, as he intended to judge in this affair according 
 to the evidence they gave. 
 
 At first these honourable gentlemen hesitated and 
 seemed afraid to answer the noble Duke ; then one, 
 the Earl of Arran, related some flirtatious incident, 
 and each man followed with his own particular story. 
 Killigrew was the last, and in his eagerness to go one 
 better than his companions he coloured his really 
 abominable story too highly, and James knew that 
 what he said was false. However, he thanked his 
 friends for their frankness, enjoined silence upon 
 them, and went immediately to seek the King. 
 
 James had really been afraid to tell his brother
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 33 
 
 of his entanglement, but now he felt that there was 
 no escape, and that he w^ould have to do whatever 
 Charles decided. It is said that he was really biased 
 by the disgusting concoctions of the loose men who 
 knew as little of principle as they did of love ; and 
 Anne was for weeks left in torment. Gramont, 
 who dictated his memoirs many years later, would 
 make us believe that the whole affair was settled in a 
 day. But that was not so. One likes to believe, 
 though, that what the genial Frenchman said about 
 Berkeley was true — that when he saw the Duke 
 of York returning from his interview with the King, 
 looking extremely grave and distressed, he wished 
 that he had kept clear of the whole matter, and 
 from sympathizing with the Duke fell to pitying 
 " poor Mrs. Hyde " and commiserating her dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 Charles was furious at the news, and at first seemed 
 to think the marriage an impossibility, but Clarendon 
 was a valued counsellor and friend, and he could not 
 bring disgrace upon him. Anne had not come over to 
 England with her father, but remained in her post as 
 maid to the Princess ; and Clarendon began to think 
 that it was time his daughter was settled down with a 
 husband ; so he sought out a suitable match, and then 
 sent for his daughter to come home. This naturally 
 pressed events forward. Anne could not long hide the 
 perplexity she was in, and her near presence altered 
 the aspect of affairs for James. A masterly inactivity 
 no longer met the case. The really surprising thing 
 in this romance was that Charles, whatever his first 
 feeling, upheld Anne's claim. He turned at once 
 to Clarendon for advice, and sent some intimate
 
 34 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 friend of the Chancellor to break the intelligence to 
 him. 
 
 Clarendon was struck to the heart by what he 
 now heard ; he regarded his daughter's action as 
 treasonable, advised that she should be sent to the 
 Tower, and that an Act of Parliament — which he 
 himself would propose — should be passed to cut off 
 her head. On seeing the King he repeated this advice. 
 He was actuated by many motives : anger against his 
 daughter, whose story of marriage he regarded as a 
 pure fiction ; fear for himself, for Charles was un- 
 married, and if he died without children Clarendon 
 himself would be the father of a queen, a position 
 which he believed would be intolerable to the nation ; 
 and he further had real respect for the Monarchy, 
 which made the position intolerable to himself. 
 His very excess of anger calmed any irritation remain- 
 ing in the King's mind, and helped to smooth matters 
 for Anne. But of all people Henrietta Maria was the 
 most vehement in her wrath, protesting that if 
 Anne were brought to Whitehall she would never 
 enter it again. 
 
 The actual marriage ceremony, for James was not 
 proof against Anne's entreaties, took place in secret in 
 Worcester House, at midnight, on September 3rd, 
 1660, and on October 22nd a son was born. The 
 Duke, still influenced by Berkeley's fabrications, 
 though more or less disbelieving them, was even then 
 in two minds about acknowledging his wife ; but 
 Charles's complaisance and the sudden withdrawal 
 of the Queen-mother's objections had an efl^ect upon 
 him. Pepys says that the Queen was bought by 
 great offers on Clarendon's part to befriend her
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 35 
 
 and help her to pay off her debts, the Chancellor 
 undertaking to have the settlement of her affairs 
 go through his hands. Burnet says that the change 
 was caused by a message to her from Cardinal Mazarin, 
 representing the French ministry, intimating that 
 they would be better pleased if she would be recon- 
 ciled to her two sons and to those whom they most 
 trusted. 
 
 Anne protested stoutly that she was the Duke's 
 wife, and she would have that known, let him use her 
 as he would. The gossip and scandal was unending, 
 people taking sides as to the Duke's probable action, 
 and no one knowing that an actual marriage had been 
 solemnized. Then one day James called upon Sir 
 Charles Berkeley and the Earl of Ossory to meet him 
 at Worcester House. With feelings of considerable 
 discomfort the two " men of honour " repaired to the 
 appointed place, thinking that at last they would be 
 called upon to prove their words and witness the 
 agony of which they would have been partly the^ 
 cause. They found the Duke in Mrs. Hyde's room ; 
 she pale and troubled, tears which she tried to restrain 
 slowly running down her face. The Chancellor was 
 there too, leaning against a wall with a very disturbed 
 air, no doubt, as Berkeley thought, filled with rage. 
 Then the Duke turned to them " with that serene 
 and pleasant countenance with which men announce 
 good news," and said, " As you are the two men of the 
 Court whom I most esteem, I am desirous you should 
 first have the honour of paying your compliments 
 to the Duchess of York ; there she is." 
 
 The two men were astounded, but they dared not 
 show it ; and the only thing they could think of to
 
 36 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 hide their emotion was to drop upon their knees and 
 kiss the Duchess's hand, which she gave them with as 
 much majesty as though she had been used to it all 
 her life. The next day, towards the end of December, 
 the marriage was publicly owned, and the whole Court 
 showed an eager desire to pay Anne respect. It is 
 possible that Anne's tears before this interview may 
 have been caused by the realization that James still 
 accepted as his close friends men who had slandered 
 her so vilely ; but whatever her feelings, she showed 
 no resentment towards them, her one fling at them 
 being " that nothing was a greater proof of the 
 attachment of a man of honour than his being more 
 solicitous for the interest of his friend or master 
 than for his own reputation." 
 
 Sir Charles Berkeley had the grace to tell James that 
 the stories he and the others had repeated about Anne 
 were mere fabrications, invented to save James from 
 the consequence of his own actions. On New Year's 
 Day Henrietta received her son and his wife with 
 " much respect and love " ; and on May 6th, 1661, 
 ended this painful episode in the life of the Duchess of 
 York with the death of the little son, — a death which 
 more or less pleased everybody ; even the Duke and 
 his wife were said not to be much troubled by it, 
 for in future years there might be some question as 
 to his legitimacy. 
 
 Anne had many good qualities ; she was said to 
 be a keen business woman, though her desire to keep 
 her husband within reasonable limits of expenditure 
 did not prevent her from demanding a large income 
 for her own personal expenses. She encouraged art 
 and literature, having a literary talent herself, for
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 37 
 
 she began to write an account of James's career, 
 founded upon his journals ; and it is said that this 
 fragmentary evidence of his life and intentions was 
 the treasure within the casket which he was so anxious 
 to take away with him in his flight from England. 
 The Duchess was, however, very jealous, and had 
 many opportunities to exercise that jealousy, for 
 James was quite as licentious as his brother, though his 
 amours, being of less importance, attracted less public 
 attention. 
 
 As soon as he had more or less satisfactorily settled 
 his matrimonial troubles, he looked upon the fair wives 
 and sisters of his friends, scarcely regretting that 
 many were more handsome than the handsomest of 
 his dead sister's maids of honour (for the Princess of 
 Orange had died of smallpox in December, 1660). 
 The first woman to whom he paid particular attention 
 was Lady Carnegie, who was " tolerably handsome " 
 and " naturally inclined to tenderness." The lady's 
 husband promptly interposed and induced the Duke 
 to look elsewhere. Then Margaret Brooke, of whom 
 there is more to tell later, caught his fancy, but Lady 
 Chesterfield had a mind to rob the girl of her conquest, 
 and made the " most extravagant advances to the 
 Duke, who, being the most unguarded ogler of his 
 time, quickly betrayed to the whole Court what was 
 going on." This was more than Anne could put up 
 with. She scolded her husband, complained to her 
 father, and at last spoke bitterly to the King of the 
 way in which James treated her. It made such a 
 hubbub that Lord Chesterfield knew a great deal 
 more about the matter than his wife either told him 
 or wished him to know, so that though it was in the
 
 38 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 depth of the winter he whisked her off into the country 
 and never let her return to London. 
 
 In the meantime Miss Brooke married Sir John 
 Denham, a man considerably older than herself, and 
 promised James all sorts of favours if he would get her 
 made one of Anne's ladies. Anne was furious at the 
 suggestion, and indignantly refused to accede to such 
 a request. James insisted, and Anne persisted in her 
 refusal, and then, to the horror of every one. Lady 
 Denham was taken violently ill. Poison, said some, 
 and poison cried the victim, who, however, was ill 
 for two months before she died. There were those 
 who believed Anne had accomplished her rival's death, 
 and some one affixed to the door of her palace a 
 lampoon charging her with the crime. 
 
 James had the reputation for admiring women 
 for their wit rather than their beauty, thus pro- 
 voking the remark from Charles that his brother's 
 mistresses were chosen for him by the priests as a 
 penance, a mot which was not so good as that by the 
 Duke of Buckingham upon the intelligence of the two 
 brothers, that " Charles could if he would, but James 
 would if he could." However, the Duke's fancy 
 roved lightly to Elizabeth Hamilton, to Frances 
 Jennings, and to a few other ladies connected either 
 with the Queen's or the Duchess's households, until 
 Anne grew thoroughly tired with his intrigues. 
 
 The Duchess did not bear all this without remon- 
 strance, and Charles, who was at the time diligently 
 playing the part of tame cat to his shrewish mistress. 
 Lady Castlemaine, used to joke about his brother 
 as a henpecked man. One day, after some new 
 disturbance, he remarked that he really could
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 39 
 
 not be troubled with this Tom Otter and his 
 wife. 
 
 " Sire, pray which is best for a man, to be Tom Otter 
 to his wife or to his mistress ? " asked Thomas KilH- 
 grew, Tom Otter being a henpecked husband in a play. 
 
 James was more or less afraid of Anne's tongue, 
 and so he suppressed his irritation at her interference 
 as much as he possibly could. If only his wife were not 
 so correct in her own life, if she would but give him 
 cause to retaliate upon her ! But there seemed no 
 hope of that, and he tried to pretend that it was the 
 merest gallantry which actuated him. The opportunity 
 was long in coming ; meanwhile he amused himself with 
 falling in love with Arabella Churchill, sister to Jack 
 Churchill, the celebrated Duke of Marlborough. 
 She was one of Anne's maids of honour, and Gramont 
 describes her as " a tall creature, pale-faced, and 
 nothing but skin and bone. . . . The Court was not 
 able to comprehend how, after having been in love with 
 Lady Chesterfield, Miss Hamilton, and Miss Jennings, 
 he could have had any inclination for such a creature." 
 To the Duchess's jealousy this time was added the 
 bitterest indignation that her husband should admire 
 a woman whose want of beauty seemed to debase 
 her own merit in his eyes, and while she was in this 
 state of rage she began to notice Henry Sidney, the 
 youngest son of the Earl of Leicester, who was re- 
 markably handsome, dressed well, and considered 
 himself one of the most desirable men alive. The 
 observant Gramont says of him on one occasion : 
 " Sidney, more handsome than the beautiful Adonis, 
 and dressed more gay than usual, alighted just then 
 from his coach : Miss Price went boldly up to him
 
 40 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 as he was adjusting his curls ; but he was too much 
 occupied with his own dear self to attend to anything 
 else, and so passed on without deigning to give her 
 
 an answer." 
 
 There is no doubt but that Anne admired him, as 
 did every one else ; whether she admitted him to any 
 close friendship it is difficult to say. Bishop Burnet 
 says that he was a very graceful young man of quality, 
 whose services were so acceptable that she was thought 
 to look at him in a particular manner. Gramont 
 talks of " perfidious Cupid," adding that Sidney's 
 " eyes rashly answered everything which those of 
 Her Royal Highness had the kindness to tell him." 
 
 If Anne did accept Sidney as a lover it must be 
 remembered that she was only twenty-seven, a 
 slighted wife, whose spirit was rampant with anger 
 and jealousy against her husband. However it was, 
 the matter was not observed by James for some time, 
 indeed, at Anne's request, he made Sidney master of 
 her horse, which post gave opportunity for constant 
 intercourse between the Duchess and Sidney. 
 
 The whole Court seemed at this time to be engaged 
 in love-making of a doubtful kind. Lady Castlemaine 
 was encouraging Henry Jermyn, nephew of Lord 
 St. Albans, who was said to have married Henrietta 
 Maria ; and it was reported that the Duke, already 
 tiring of the plain Arabella, was casting his eyes upon 
 the pretty Frances Stuart, much to the King's anger. 
 So factions ran high, and every one was in a state of 
 excitement. 
 
 Then some kind friend whispered to James that 
 it would be as well if he watched the Duchess's chief 
 equerry, and James's suspicions being aroused, he
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 41 
 
 did watch, and saw enough, either to justify him in 
 the greatest resentment, or to give him the oppor- 
 tunity of once and for all shaking off his wife's restrain- 
 ing influence. There was a tremendous row in which 
 both Anne and James told each other many emphatic 
 things, and when the first excitement was over 
 James balanced his unusual flow of words by not 
 speaking again to his wife for many days. Sidney, 
 of course, was banished from Court, and to all outward 
 appearance the episode ended, though in reality it led 
 to very important results. Hitherto, as I have said, 
 the Duke had been at the pains of masking his intrigues 
 and at least of publicly showing deference to the wishes 
 of his wife. Now being, or pretending to be, jealous 
 of her, he threw off all restraint in his own intrigues ; 
 and the Duchess, finding that she had lost her hold 
 upon him, tried to regain it by accepting his religious 
 views. To this end she appointed certain hours for 
 the Catholic priest to visit her, and before long secretly 
 owned herself to be a Roman Catholic. 
 
 Anne was never popular. Her pride was the talk 
 of the Court, and offended all those about her ; so that 
 there were always plenty of people ready to make 
 mischief. The next murmur against her was that 
 while spending everything she wished herself, she held 
 her husband's purse-strings too tightly ; and some of 
 the Court intriguers tried to damage her in Charles's 
 eyes by saying that the Duke was entirely ruled by his 
 wife. As the financial affairs of James were in a 
 terribly embarrassed condition, this caused the blame 
 to fall upon Anne, and a small committee was formed 
 to examine their accounts, with the result that the 
 Yorks were proved to be spending _£20,ooo annually
 
 42 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 above their income. The Duchess did not Umit her 
 supervision to her household accounts, for she seemed 
 to have been in the habit of attending her husband's 
 Council for his household. A certain Mr. Povey, 
 who, in consideration of giving up some place, was 
 awarded a pension of ^400 a year by the Duke, told 
 Pepys one day that he was likely to lose his pension, 
 for the Duchess was a very devil against him, and 
 came, like Queen Ehzabeth, to sit with the Duke's 
 Council and see what they did ; " and she crosses out 
 this man's wages and prices, as she sees fit, for saving 
 money ; but yet she reserves ;£5000 a year for her 
 own spending," and lays up jewels. 
 
 In 1667 Clarendon fell from power, was cast upon 
 his back with no chance of rising again, as one writer 
 has it — a circumstance which should have made, and 
 perhaps did make, Anne mournful. Clarendon himself 
 had always believed that his daughter's high marriage 
 must mean his own ruin, and there is no doubt but 
 that it added largely to the jealousy which was felt 
 against him. Yet when he wrote to her from his pain- 
 ful exile in France, that she would use her influence 
 on his behalf, his letters remained unanswered. 
 
 Of the eight children Anne bore only two survived, 
 and it must have been a grief to her to see all her four 
 sons die. She had little comfort in her husband or 
 his friends, and could never again have been so happy 
 as during the few months after her first marriage with 
 James. Yet she had one real pleasure left her, and 
 that was the table. She is said by a contemporary 
 to have been one of " the highest feeders in England," 
 and to have recompensed herself in this way for other 
 enforced self-denials. " It was really an edifying sight
 
 ANNE HYDE, DUCHESS OF YORK 43 
 
 to see her at table. The Duke, on the contrary, being 
 incessantly in the hurry of new fancies, exhausted 
 himself by his inconstancy, and was gradually wasting 
 away, while the poor Princess, gratifying her good 
 appetite, grew so plump and fat that it was a blessing 
 to see her ! " So says Gramont, and Pepys, when speak- 
 ing of kissing her hand, adds, " and it was a fine, white, 
 plump hand." 
 
 Anne was only thirty-four when she died. Most 
 historians give no name to the bad health from which 
 she suffered, though one of them is only too explicit. 
 " A long decay of health came at last to a quicker crisis 
 than had been apprehended. All of a sudden she fell 
 into the agony of death," which is perhaps description 
 enough. Poor Anne ! she paid dearly for the indiscreet 
 love of her youth in watching six feeble diseased 
 children die, and in dying herself while still a young 
 woman ; but, like the child who suffered pain through 
 overmuch eating of green apples, she may, when 
 remembering the position she had gained, have said, 
 " It was worth it ! " 
 
 In one way her death made a great stir, for she 
 died a Catholic, though she had never acknowledged 
 her change of faith. Feeling sure that she had a very 
 short time to live, she begged her husband not to leave 
 her alone until she was dead, adding that if Dr. Bland- 
 ford came he was to be told the truth. She evidently 
 felt the need of protection, and Queen Catherine 
 joined with the Duke in watching over the dying 
 woman. When Blandford, afterwards Bishop of 
 Worcester, did come, he found the Queen there, 
 and in deference to her and her opinions he had 
 not sufficient presence of mind to begin his prayers,
 
 44 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 so he waited, hoping for Catherine's departure. 
 But the Queen sat on, and Blandford got no further 
 than expressing a hope that Anne continued in the 
 truth. Upon which she asked, " What is truth ? " 
 and her pain increasing, she repeated often, " Truth, 
 truth," and in a few minutes died, not much lamented 
 and not much loved by any. 
 
 Lely painted her picture several times, Pepys telling 
 how one day he walked to the artist's studio, where he 
 saw, among other rare things, " the Duchess of York, 
 her whole body, sitting in state in a chair, in white 
 
 satin."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 
 
 " We are much indebted to the memory of Barbara, Duchess of 
 Cleveland ; Louisa, Duchess of Portsmouth ; and Mrs. Eleanor Gwyn. 
 We owe a tribute of gratitude to the Mays, the Killigrews, the Chif- 
 finches, and the Gramonts. They played a serviceable part in ridding 
 the kingdom of its besotted loyalty. They saved our forefathers from 
 the star-chamber and the high commission court ; they laboured in 
 their vocation against standing armies and corruption ; they pressed 
 forward the great ultimate security of English freedom, the expulsion 
 of the house of Stuart." — Hallam. 
 
 King Charles's good resolutions did not last long, as 
 has been said, and as Mrs. Barbara Palmer attracted 
 his notice before he was king, and accepted his 
 attentions from the moment that he entered London, 
 she may well have one of the foremost places in our 
 gallery. 
 
 Barbara's maiden name was Villiers, she being the 
 daughter of William Villiers, Viscount Grandison, 
 who, at the commencement of the Civil War, received 
 a commission as Colonel-General to raise a regiment 
 for Charles I. In July, 1643, the gallant Colonel was 
 mortally wounded at the siege of Bristol, leaving his 
 little daughter, w^ho was not quite three years old at 
 the time, to the care of her mother Mary, the daughter 
 of the first Viscount Bayning. Scandal attacked the 
 child even over her birth, for in The Secret History of 
 Charles II it is asserted as a well-known fact that 
 Barbara was the daughter of Henrietta Maria and the 
 
 45
 
 46 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Earl of St. Albans, and therefore half-sister to Charles. 
 For this story there seems to be no foundation, though 
 Barbara's most important biographer, G. S. Steinman, 
 says that a daughter of this secret marriage was born 
 abroad. The statement could only be true on the 
 assumption that Viscount Grandison had connived at 
 hiding the child's birth and had adopted her as his 
 own, and there is no proof of this. Clarendon says 
 of him that he was a man of so virtuous a habit of 
 mind that no temptation could corrupt him, a lover 
 of justice and integrity, of rare piety and devotion. 
 Of Lady Grandison little is known beyond the fact 
 that she married again in 1648, her second husband 
 being of the same family as her first, for he was Charles 
 Villiers, the second Earl of Anglesey. It is in his 
 house in London that we first hear of Barbara, then 
 a girl of sixteen. 
 
 In those days of extremely early marriages it is a 
 little surprising that Barbara Villiers, heiress to her 
 father's estates, remained without a husband until 
 she was eighteen. She was a striking, w^ell-developed 
 girl, and was twitted then for her black eyes and round 
 baby face. In actual fact her eyes were blue, that 
 dark blue which under emotion seems black, and her 
 luxuriant hair was auburn. Her lips were too full 
 for real beauty, though in Charles's day a voluptu- 
 ous fulness may have been thought more admirable 
 than a delicate curve. Her vivacious manner and her 
 boldness soon drew admirers to the house of her step- 
 father, and the girl, who to-day would have been at 
 school, had her time filled with the endeavour to 
 keep them all around her, to play one off against 
 the other, and to get every possible atom of amuse-
 
 Bakisaka Viij.iers, Duchess of Cleveland, as Minerva 
 
 (^After /.,•!}'') 
 
 [to KACr. I'AGE 46
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 47 
 
 ment that she could secure from their rivalry and 
 proffers o£ love. Gradually, however, she began to 
 give preference to one of them, the Earl of Chester- 
 field, who was a widower though only five years older 
 than herself, and who has been described as having 
 " a very agreeable countenance, a fine head of hair, 
 an indifferent figure and a worse air ; he was not, 
 however, deficient in wit." In character Chesterfield 
 was a rake, and his attentions to Barbara were neither 
 platonic nor innocent of guile, while the girl willingly 
 made assignations with him. In one of her letters 
 to him she says that she and her friend Lady Anne 
 Hamilton are in bed together cogitating how and 
 where to meet him during the afternoon, adding that 
 if he deserves that favour he will look for them in 
 Butler's shop on Ludgate Hill at about three o'clock. 
 
 From another letter we learn that Barbara hopes 
 " the fates may yet be so kind as to let me see you 
 about five o'clock ; and if you will be at your private 
 lodgings in Lincoln's Inn Fields I will endeavour to 
 come." She further speaks of doing nothing but 
 dream of him, and her life being never pleasant 
 but when talking to him or of him. 
 
 Yet at this very time Chesterfield's banns were 
 being asked in the church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, 
 the prospective bride being Mary Fairfax, daughter 
 and heiress of Thomas Lord Fairfax, one of Crom- 
 well's chief supporters. After the banns had been 
 published, some say two, others three times, Bar- 
 bara's cousin, the irresponsible Buckingham, another 
 Villiers, who was 
 
 " Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, 
 Was everything by starts, and nothing long,"
 
 48 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 danced upon the scene, captured the fancy of Mary, 
 and carried her off to a Hfe perhaps a Httle worse 
 than she would have had with Chesterfield. 
 
 There was certainly something wrong with the 
 Villiers, for when Roger Palmer, a clever young man 
 who was studying for the Bar, desired to marry 
 Barbara, his father was strongly against the match ; 
 but Palmer was bent on his own undoing, and the 
 marriage took place in 1659. Barbara had neither 
 love for her husband nor any respect for his attain- 
 ments, which were considerable, and she soon con- 
 tinued her correspondence with Chesterfield, nick- 
 naming her husband " Mounseer " and complaining 
 of his jealousy ; saying that she was ready to go all 
 over the world with Chesterfield and would obey his 
 commands while she lived. 
 
 She had an attack of smallpox a few months after 
 her marriage, which did not, however, spoil her beauty, 
 and it was probably during that illness she wrote as 
 follows to her lover : 
 
 " My Dear Life, — I have been this day extremely 
 ill, and the not hearing from you hath made me much 
 worse than otherwayes I should have been. The doctor 
 doth believe me in a desperate condition, and I must 
 confess that the unwillingness I have to leave you 
 makes me not entertaine the thoughts of death so 
 willingly as otherwise I should ; for there is nothing 
 besides yourself that could make me desire to live a 
 day ; and if I am never so happy as to see you more, 
 yet the last words I will say shall be a prayer for your 
 happiness, and so I will live and die loving you above 
 all other things." 
 
 There can be very little doubt but that Barbara
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 49 
 
 was really in love with the Earl, for her letters show 
 a meekness of spirit which animated none of her later 
 actions ; and it is possible that the light estimate in 
 which he held her — shown by his projected marriage 
 while engaged in seeking her favour, and by his later 
 coldness — ^was responsible for the definite character 
 which this woman developed. Roger Palmer was both 
 clever and amiable, and perhaps he let his reason con- 
 trol his emotion to an exceptional degree ; however, 
 before his jealousy took active form Chesterfield had 
 killed a man in a duel and had to fly the country. 
 
 Where Charles II first met Barbara Palmer is not 
 known. Mrs. Jameson, the only writer who has given 
 a detailed account of the Windsor Beauties, and who 
 wrote three-quarters of a century ago, says that it 
 was in Holland, in 1659 J ^^^ Charles was in Brussels 
 all that year. It is more likely that Roger Palmer, 
 who was an ardent Royalist, went out with other 
 enthusiasts to show his loyalty to the King, and took 
 his wife with him. They probably came back with 
 Charles. In any case it seems fairly certain that they 
 met before the King's return to his own country, for, 
 Sultan though he was, it is scarcely possible to believe 
 that Charles threw the handkerchief on the day of 
 his return to a woman whom he had never seen before. 
 While abroad many were the fair dames who suc- 
 cumbed to his ardent love-making — Lady Byron was 
 the seventeenth, it is said — and if the Palmers really 
 went to meet him in Brussels it is easy to understand 
 the beginning of a connection which lasted for at 
 least ten years. 
 
 Certain it is that when on his birthday. May 29th, 
 1660, Charles had passed along l^ower-strewn roads
 
 50 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 crowded with cheering EngHshmen, had seen his 
 soldiers kiss the hilts of their swords before flourishing 
 them in the air with shouts of loyalty, had traversed 
 streets hung with tapestry, silks, and velvet, had 
 knighted the Lord Mayor and the aldermen, had 
 listened to interminable addresses, and had at last, to 
 the roar of cannon, been deposited safely in White- 
 hall, making his famous remark that surely it had been 
 only his own fault that he had stayed so long away, 
 as every one seemed unanimous in promoting his 
 return — certain it is that then he allowed himself 
 some relaxation in courting Madame Palmer. Mrs. 
 Jameson tells us that he wended his way through 
 bonfire-lit streets to the house of Sir Samuel Morland 
 at Vauxhall, where Mistress Palmer was staying, re- 
 maining there the night ; but this is not according 
 to facts. Samuel Morland did not lease his house 
 until five years later, so Barbara could not have stayed 
 there ; while contemporary authorities state that 
 Charles did not leave the palace that night, that, 
 indeed, the assignation took place in Whitehall itself. 
 
 In February, 1661, Barbara's first child was born, 
 and was named Anne, being acknowledged as daughter 
 both by Charles II and by Roger Palmer, — though 
 generally believed to be the child of Lord Chester- 
 field. 
 
 The Palmers settled down in a house in King Street, 
 Westminster, Roger having been elected Member of 
 Parliament for Windsor. It was very close to the 
 house of the Earl of Sandwich, to whom Pepys was 
 secretary, and thus we get from the diarist various 
 little glimpses of his " dear Lady Castlemaine." One 
 evening the King and his brothers were at a concert
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 51 
 
 at the Palmers', and Pepys, with Lord Sandwich, stood 
 long at the door listening to it. At another time, 
 when walking in his Lord's garden, he says : " I saw 
 in the Privy garden the finest smocks and linen petti- 
 coats of my Lady Castlemaine's, laced with rich lace 
 at the bottom, that ever I saw, and did me good to 
 look at them." Once in the chapel at Whitehall 
 Pepys tells how Barbara and the Duke of York ogled 
 each other ; and indeed she is not free from a sus- 
 picion of allowing James as well as his brother to make 
 love to her. 
 
 Barbara's fame grew as the months passed. At 
 first she was but a pretty woman for whom the King 
 and the Duke of York had what might prove a passing 
 fancy ; when the title of Countess of Castlemaine 
 was conferred upon her she became more important 
 in the public eye. Pepys' admiration was in direct ratio 
 to her reputation and her favour with the King. 
 " I sat before Mrs. Palmer, the King's mistress, and 
 filled my eyes with her, which much pleased me " ; 
 again, at the theatre, he notes that it was a 
 " great pleasure to see so many great beauties, but 
 above all, Mrs. Palmer, with whom the King do dis- 
 cover a great deal of familiarity ; indeed, I can never 
 enough admire her beauty." 
 
 The suggested marriage of the King filled Barbara's 
 mind with turmoil, and she used her tongue freely 
 to him and to all others who mentioned the matter 
 before her. For she was by no means a meek lover 
 now ! It was said that she found a violent, masterful 
 temper the best weapon to use. To pacify her the 
 King raised Roger Palmer to the peerage with the 
 Irish title of Earl of Castlemaine, the title to descend
 
 52 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 only to children born of Barbara. Palmer, who at 
 last understood the situation, was so disgusted that 
 the honour had to be forced upon him, but he never 
 took his seat in the House of Lords. 
 
 By this time the character of Charles's Court 
 had declared itself ; its emulation, its poverty, and its 
 vices of drinking, swearing, and loose amours causing 
 much gossip and speculation. There were factions 
 too among the courtiers about Mrs. Palmer, probably 
 concerning the continuance of the King's favour on 
 the arrival of the Queen ; factions which became so 
 fierce that Barbara's cousin Mary, Duchess of Rich- 
 mond, sister to the Duke of Buckingham, called her 
 publicly a Jane Shore, and hoped she would come to 
 the same bad end ; a matter which much offended the 
 King. Lady Castlemaine even went so far as to declare 
 that the second child which she was expecting at 
 about the time that Catherine of Braganza was to 
 arrive should be born at Hampton Court ; but the 
 King had too much decency to allow this. 
 
 Catherine's ship anchored off Portsmouth on May 
 13th, 1662, and Lady Castlemaine revenged herself 
 slightly for the coldness which was generally shown 
 her at this time by keeping her house dark and allowing 
 no bonfire to be lit before her door. The King had 
 dined and supped every day for a week with the 
 mistress whose reign was now so much endangered, 
 and on the 13th, when all the world was in the streets 
 rejoicing, he was at her house in King Street. Like 
 children, the two sent for a pair of scales and weighed 
 each other, she being the heavier, it is said, because 
 of her condition. 
 
 Brave it out as she would, however, Barbara was
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 53 
 
 at that time a disconsolate creature. From the be- 
 ginning of May until the beginning of June, when 
 her second child was born, she did not go out of her 
 house. She could not bear the coldness of those who 
 had at least professed friendship for her, nor the 
 averted looks of the public. Her child, named Charles 
 Fitzroy, was born in her husband's house in King 
 Street, and soon arose the excuse which Barbara 
 wanted altering her way of life. Roger Palmer had 
 become a Catholic, and he had the boy baptized by 
 a priest ; an action which raised all the mother's 
 powers of vituperation, for she could and did swear 
 like a fish-wife — as the saying goes. It is very probable 
 that she had already arranged her plans, for, having 
 delivered her soul of its wrath, she had her trunks — 
 which were already packed — the furniture, plate, 
 every dish and cloth, even the servants, with the ex- 
 ception of the porter, taken to Richmond to the house 
 of a brother. This must have been a stepbrother, as 
 she was her father's only child. So when Roger re- 
 turned to the house he found it denuded of every- 
 thing. As Barbara had carefully made him aware 
 of all that there was to know about the relative 
 interests she felt in him and the King, Castle- 
 maine went over to France determined, said gossip, 
 to enter a monastery. It is needless to say that he 
 did not adhere to this resolve. 
 
 Richmond is but a matter of four or five miles from 
 Hampton Court where the King and his bride were 
 staying, and Barbara's anxiety as to her own future 
 status made Richmond a welcome change and a con- 
 venient point from which to view the situation. A 
 few weeks later the baby was baptized again according
 
 54 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 to the rites of the Church of England, the King, 
 the Earl of Oxford, and one of the Queen's ladies, 
 the Countess of Suffolk, aunt to Barbara, acting as 
 sponsors. 
 
 Queen Catherine's troubles had begun as soon as she 
 sailed into the harbour of Portsmouth. She was very- 
 uneducated, very narrow, and very bigoted ; she 
 could not understand the marriage service which had 
 to be performed by the Protestant as well as the 
 Catholic rites, and refused to repeat the words. Her 
 dowry of half a million in gold had been used to fit 
 out forces against Spain, and in its place Charles, to 
 his intense disgust, received jewels, sugar, cotton, silk, 
 and other commodities to half that amount. She 
 had been warned by her mother never to allow 
 Lady Castlemaine to be presented to her, and she 
 thought in her simplicity that it would be easy 
 to obey this injunction. It was only necessary to 
 mention it to her husband and he would agree ! She 
 did mention it to Charles, who allowed the matter 
 to pass for the moment, though he was determined 
 that Barbara should have her place at Court. 
 
 Barbara put the question to the test ; and she lost 
 no time in doing so. On the very day that she had 
 quarrelled with her husband, when her child was 
 scarcely three weeks old, having deposited all her 
 belongings at Richmond, she dressed herself with 
 care and drove to Hampton Court, for she was in a 
 martial mood and had decided to begin at once the 
 battle for supremacy. 
 
 The forlorn, strange little Queen received her guests 
 with dignity and pleasant smiles, and Lady Castle- 
 maine, led up by the King himself, met with the same
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 55' 
 
 treatment as the others. A moment later, though, 
 some one had whispered into Catherine's ear the name 
 — which she had not caught — of the lady who had 
 just been received. A cry of horror rang through 
 the room, then the young Queen made a desperate 
 attempt to control herself, but it was too much for 
 her strength. The blood which rushed to her head 
 poured from her nose, and she fell fainting to the 
 floor. Yet a day or two later when Charles gave her 
 a list of ladies who it was proposed should attend her 
 bed-chamber, the name of Castlemaine was among 
 them. Catherine pricked it out, and the real fight 
 began. The Queen declared that she would go back 
 to her own country rather than allow such an appoint- 
 ment to be made, and the King asked scoffingly how 
 her own country and her own mother would receive 
 her. As she held out against his wishes, Charles prac- 
 tically sent his bride to Coventry ; he did not speak 
 to her and his minions followed his example ; she 
 was left out of all gaiety, dances, riding parties ; even 
 the servants became careless in waiting upon her, 
 and all but one of her ladies were sent back to 
 Portugal. Alone and despised in a strange country 
 Catherine's life became a burden to her, yet for a 
 time she resisted all commands to be compliant. 
 Lord Clarendon, who was forced by Charles to the 
 uncongenial task of persuading her, told his master 
 that what he demanded was more than blood could 
 stand ; but opposition only made the King more 
 ferocious, he being well likened at the time to a wild 
 boar showing his tusks. 
 
 Here is a paragraph from the letter he wrote to 
 Clarendon on this occasion :
 
 56 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 " I wish I may be as unhappy in this world, and 
 in the world to come, if I fail in the least degree of 
 what I am resolved ; which is, of making my Lady 
 Castlemaine of my wife's bed-chamber ; and whoso- 
 ever I find use any endeavours to hinder this resolu- 
 tion of mine, except it be only to myself, I will be 
 his enemy to the last moment of my life." To this 
 arbitrary pronouncement he at least had the grace 
 to add that " the lady would behave with all duty 
 and humility to Her Majesty, which, if she would 
 fail to do, she should never see his face again." 
 
 Lady Castlemaine had no desire for the post either 
 because of its honour or its emoluments, but both 
 she and Charles wished that she should have apart- 
 ments in the Royal household, and this offered the 
 only way of securing them. At the end of six or eight 
 weeks the Queen was wearied out and, to the surprise of 
 every one, she voluntarily addressed Barbara one even- 
 ing. This broke the ice, and the two women were 
 from that time outwardly friends. Charles actually 
 seemed proud of going about like an Eastern potentate 
 with two wives in his carriage. Pepys gives us a pic- 
 ture of this, as w^ell as of the Court held at Somerset 
 House at this time by Henrietta Maria, who was 
 then in England. This was during the first week in 
 September after the reconciliation, and is very ex- 
 pressive, as described by the diarist, not only of the 
 subjection into which Catherine had been thrown, 
 but of the indifference of public opinion : 
 
 " I went into the Queen Mother's presence, where 
 she was with our Queen sitting on her left hand, 
 whom I never did see before ; and though she be 
 not very charming, yet she hath a good, modest, and
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 57 
 
 innocent look, which is pleasing. Here I also saw 
 Lady Castlemaine, and, which pleased me most, 
 Mr. Crofts, the King's bastard, a most pretty spark 
 of about fifteen years old, also do hang much upon 
 my Lady Castlemaine, and is always with her, and 
 I hear the Queens are both mighty kind to him. By 
 and by in comes the King, and anon the Duke and 
 his Duchess, so that, they being all together, was 
 such a sight as I never could almost have happened 
 to see with so much ease and leisure. They stayed 
 till it was dark, and then went away ; the King and 
 his Queen and my Lady Castlemaine and young 
 Crofts in one coach, and the rest in other coaches." 
 
 Pepys generally expressed a great admiration for 
 Barbara, and a fortnight earlier he had found a place 
 among many others on the top of the Banqueting 
 House in Whitehall to watch the young Queen arrive 
 from Hampton Court. Lady Castlemaine was there, 
 and as she had gone up from her apartment in the 
 palace she was without her hat. Of this incident Pepys 
 writes : " Methought it was strange to see her and her 
 lord [Lord Castlemaine] upon the same place, walking 
 up and down without taking notice of one another, 
 only at first entry he put off his hat, and she made 
 him a very civil salute, but afterwards took no notice 
 one of another ; but both of them now and then 
 would take their child, which the nurse held in her 
 arms, and dandle it. One thing more : there hap- 
 pened a scaffold below to fall, and we feared some 
 hurt ; but there was none, but she of all the great 
 ladies only ran down among the common rabble to 
 see what hurt was done, and did take care of a child 
 that received some little hurt, which methought was
 
 58 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 noble. Anon there came one there booted and spurred, 
 that she talked long with ; and by and by, she being 
 in her hair, she put on his hat, which was but an 
 ordinary one, to keep the wind off ; but it became 
 her mightily, as everything else do." 
 
 Catherine was blamed by many for giving way to 
 the King's wishes, but it did at least give her physical 
 comfort and the outward respect of her husband. 
 She now knew definitely Charles's character, and with 
 that knowledge came the other, that she would have 
 to share his affections all her life, and be satisfied 
 with the smaller part. Charles still seemed to feel some 
 shame, for he treated the English who came over 
 with his wife with great disfavour, for fear that they 
 should learn too much as to how he behaved and tell 
 it to the Queen, who, however, was at least clever 
 enough to know more than they could tell her. 
 
 Though there was no expression of anger at Court 
 at the laxity which obtained there, and though the 
 genial Pepys took all the little incidents which he 
 noted as ordinary occurrences, the great public 
 began to gossip and lift up its hands in horror. 
 Stories of licence and debauchery circulated, and the 
 whisper went abroad that the Countess of Castle- 
 maine's influence increased so that she w^as greater 
 than the Queen, though Charles was said to show 
 kindness to his wife. It was through Barbara that 
 Sir Harry Bennet (Lord Arlington) and Sir Charles 
 Berkeley (Lord Falmouth) became so intimate with 
 the King ; history has condemned both men for their 
 fast lives, such lives as would make Charles but love 
 them more. Lady Castlemaine herself was accused of 
 having intrigues with these gentlemen, and for some
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 59 
 
 reason of her own did her best to attract young 
 Crofts, the fifteen-year-old son of Charles. 
 
 This boy was extremely handsome, and it is said 
 that his very appearance raised the demon of jealousy 
 in this extraordinary woman, because compared with 
 him her own children " were like so many puppets." 
 The King only laughed at her, and then she deter- 
 mined to gratify her resentment for this irreparable 
 injury by pretending to take the lad under her care. 
 She " mothered " him publicly, let him lead her out 
 in the dance, and caressed him with an ever-increasing 
 ardour. Gramont says that Charles felt no jealousy 
 of her, but he very judiciously removed his son from 
 danger by marrying him with great brilliancy and 
 rejoicing to little Anne Scott, Countess of Buccleuch 
 and owner of ^10,000 a year. To fit him for this 
 honour Crofts was made Duke of Monmouth in 
 February, 1663. 
 
 Pepys is the authority for the statement that at 
 this time Barbara was carrying on intrigues both with 
 Bennet and Berkeley. " Captain Ferrers and Mr. 
 Howe both have often, through my Lady Castle- 
 maine's window, seen her go to bed, and Sir Charles 
 Berkeley in the chamber." It is necessary to remem- 
 ber that Pepys repeated every scrap of gossip that he 
 heard, that he made, and professed to make, no in- 
 quiry into the truth of things — he simply wrote down 
 what some one told him. This should be kept in 
 mind when considering what he says of the fair Frances 
 Stuart, whose life at Court was at first much inter- 
 twined with that of Lady Castlemaine. 
 
 In spite of the whispers about Barbara's actions, 
 which of course may not have reached the King,
 
 6o FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Charles showed her more attention than ever, supping 
 with her four times a week, most often staying till the 
 morning and going home through the garden alone 
 privately, so that even the sentries made jests about 
 him. There is one story which shows more plainly 
 than anything how great was her power over the 
 King at this time. She had quarrelled with a Lady 
 Gerard, who on January 4th, 1662-3, had prepared 
 a state supper for the King and Queen. When every 
 one was assembled and the tables were ready the 
 King withdrew from the party and went to the house 
 of Lady Castlemaine, where he remained all through 
 the evening. It is suggested that in this rude action 
 he was obeying orders which he had received earlier, 
 and it may well be imagined that the incident did 
 not make Lady Gerard love the King's mistress. A 
 month or so later Lady Gerard made some remark to 
 the Queen about Barbara, which the usual unfailing 
 kind friend who was present repeated to the King, 
 with the result that at a ball Charles invited Lady 
 Gerard to dance with him, severely told her what he 
 thought, and forbade her to attend upon his wife in 
 future. 
 
 The name of Colonel James Hamilton was also 
 linked with that of Barbara, and by this time the man 
 in the street was fully alive to the character of the 
 mahresse en litre, as she was called. Lampoons and 
 squibs were published and sung about her, being fast- 
 ened to doors, or in public places. This so much 
 angered Charles that he seriously thought of shutting 
 up the coffee-houses, which were then the centre of 
 all gossip. At Merton College, Oxford, where one of 
 Barbara's children was born on December 28th, 1665,
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 6i 
 
 the songs in the streets were of her and the King, and 
 how the latter could not leave Oxford until she was 
 ready to accompany him, and a very plainly expressed 
 couplet, done in Latin, it is true, was found one 
 morning tacked to the door of her lodgings. 
 
 Barbara carried her determination to have her own 
 way into everything ; if she found cause to dislike a 
 statesman or minister she also found means to get rid 
 of him ; the old tried loyalist, Sir Edward Nicholas, 
 was superseded in the secretaryship by Sir H. Bennet, 
 in 1663, and she conceived from the first a hatred of 
 Clarendon, who would never allow anything to pass 
 the seal in which she was named, just as the Earl of 
 Southampton would not suffer her name to be entered 
 in the Treasury books ; thus it was in her rooms that 
 the plot against Clarendon, which led to his downfall, 
 was hatched. There met Buckingham, Arlington, 
 Clifford, Ashley, and Lauderdale in the cabal which, 
 by a " whimsical coincidence," as Macaulay says, on 
 this occasion formed an anagram on their names. 
 These men suffered many checks in their purpose of 
 dismissing all the tried, experienced, honest councillors 
 of the King, and for a long time the King himself 
 withstood them. When Barbara was too insistent he 
 once thoroughly lost his temper, telling her that " she 
 was a jade that meddled with things which she had 
 nothing at all to do with." 
 
 Ormond sometimes foiled her schemes for raising 
 money, for she was a rapacious place-seller ; she put 
 her extravagant purchases down to the Privy purse, 
 and drew large sums from the Irish Treasury. On 
 one occasion when he refused to sanction another 
 draft on Ireland she reviled him, swore at him, and
 
 62 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 said she should like to see him hanged. To which the 
 Duke responded quietly that, far from wishing to see 
 her ladyship's days shortened in return, his greatest 
 desire was to see her grow old. When the Chancellor 
 once refused to verify some grant of a place which 
 Lady Castlemaine had made he uttered the remark 
 that that woman would sell everything. This, of 
 course, was repeated to her, upon which she sent him 
 the message " that she had disposed of the place, and 
 did not doubt in time to dispose of his," a promise 
 which she kept. 
 
 As the months rolled on Charles grew very tired 
 of this woman, who, however much her bold 
 beauty might at one time have fascinated his eye, 
 made his life alternately a burden with her wild 
 tempers and a game with her high spirits. We hear 
 of her and Charles chasing a moth about a room with 
 all the ardour of schoolboys, and at another time 
 quarrelling fiercely. At one date a diarist utters a 
 word of pleasure that Castlemaine is out of favour, 
 and a fortnight later says calmly that she entirely 
 rules the King. But at the end of 1662 there came 
 to Court a girl who was destined to give Barbara, Lady 
 Castlemaine, a fairly unquiet time. 
 
 Barbara was the first to secure His Majesty's favour 
 after his accession, but she was by no means the last, and 
 though she kept her supremacy for ten years, she only 
 did so by a continuous struggle. The other women 
 who perceptibly affected Charles's life were Frances 
 Stuart, Louise de Keroualle, and, in a lesser degree, 
 Nell Gwyn ; and it was the first-named of these who 
 proved the first formidable rival to Barbara's influence. 
 Frances Teresa Stuart was born in 1648, being the
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 63 
 
 daughter of Walter Stuart and grand-daughter of the 
 first Lord Blantyre. Her father, with his family, 
 took refuge in France in 1649, and was attached to 
 the household of Plenrietta Maria ; thus she was 
 educated in France, and if she did not become very 
 learned, she was at least taught how to set off her 
 pretty face to the greatest advantage. When she was 
 thirteen or fourteen the question of her future arose, 
 and Louis XIV was anxious that she should stay to 
 ornament his Court ; however, the Queen-Mother of 
 England thought otherwise, and sent her to England, 
 with a letter of introduction to Charles IL So a fare- 
 well present from Louis terminated the girl's relations 
 with the French Court. At the New Year of 1662-3, 
 when she was not fifteen years old, Frances was ap- 
 pointed maid of honour to Queen Catherine, and at 
 once stepped into that neglected lady's good graces. 
 
 Though girls were married at an absurdly early age 
 at that time, and indeed for two hundred years later, 
 they remained girl-wives, being no more matured than 
 our schoolgirls to-day ; and at this date Frances, 
 though regarded by the various historians as of marri- 
 ageable age, was only a pretty, lanky, ungrown girl, 
 ready to respond to any kindness shown her, and to 
 be friends with every one. What Lady Castlemaine 
 thought when she first saw her no one knows ; what 
 she did was to try to attract the child to her side, as 
 she tried to attract young Crofts, and at first she was 
 very successful. Frances had only been at Court a 
 month when a foolish frolic is reported between the 
 two. Barbara invited the girl to an entertainment, 
 and in the midst of it insisted that they loved each 
 other so much that only marriage would meet the
 
 64 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 case. So all the accessories to a church marriage were 
 collected and a ring sHpped on the slim finger. Then 
 came the coarser ceremonies, made possible by custom, 
 the decking with ribbons, the procession to the bed- 
 room, and undressing the bride, flinging the stocking 
 for luck, and administering a sack posset in bed. Such 
 a piece of childish nonsense was natural enough to 
 Frances, and perhaps to Barbara as well, for the latter 
 was quite a young woman and easily amused with small 
 things. But the older and over-wise courtiers saw 
 more in it than a whim ; they took into account neither 
 the age of the new maid, nor the rampant jealousy of 
 Barbara's character, but gravely asserted that the 
 amusement had an ulterior motive, in that Lady 
 Castlemaine, after retiring to bed, gave up her place 
 to the King. Taking into consideration the fiery 
 temper and extremely jealous disposition of that lady 
 this was an absurd rumour. Barbara simply could 
 not have lent herself to such a scheme for her 
 own discomfiture. If there was design in what she 
 did, it was not that of giving herself a rival, but of 
 bHnding the King to the fact that he had a rival in 
 her affections. 
 
 Barbara was at this time starting her intrigue with 
 Henry Jermyn, Lord Dover, which was to lead to so 
 many wordy conflicts with her master. From all that 
 one hears of Jermyn he seems to have been one of the 
 greatest rakes of the Restoration, though really the 
 worst thing about him for his reputation's sake was 
 his appearance. Had he been tall, handsome, and a 
 favourite with men, he would not, in those days, have 
 seemed so despicable as popular opinion held him to 
 be. He was, however, short, with a large head and
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 65 
 
 little legs — a failing which neither man nor woman 
 overlooks — full of conceit, and boasting that not a 
 woman in the world could resist him. Report had 
 already made him the accepted lover of Henrietta, 
 Charles's sister, and of every coquettish lady about 
 the Court ; so when Barbara showed him marked 
 kindness, he languidly determined to respond to her 
 advances. Charles began to be suspicious and angrily 
 resented the gossip which indicated that he had such a 
 pigmy opposed to him ; thus to deceive him Barbara 
 took Frances to her heart, and when Charles paid his 
 morning visit to her room he often found the pretty 
 child lying by her side. 
 
 These early calls may well seem strange and im- 
 proper to us, but in the seventeenth and eighteenth 
 centuries it was no uncommon custom. The lazy 
 Beauty drank her chocolate in bed, and partly made her 
 toilet, and the gallant who was energetic made a good- 
 morning call, finding the lady in bed, or under the 
 hands of the hairdresser, with her dressing woman, or 
 women, about. Towards the end of the eighteenth 
 century the fop would have himself curled and 
 scented and his locks artistically arranged on the 
 pillow before he received the visits of his friends. 
 
 Barbara was playing a dangerous game, of which 
 she only realized one side. Most people would 
 have seen the other side first, for it w^as inevitable 
 that in such circumstances Charles should fall in love 
 with Frances. She should have been far too childish 
 to be touched by his attentions, but her bringing-up 
 had been extremely worldly, and infant as she was she 
 had no desire to give something for nothing. 
 
 Both Barbara and Charles became irritable and sus-
 
 6G FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 picious : each was trying to fascinate an outsider 
 while wishing to keep the loyalty of each other. 
 Quarrels grew frequent, and it was after one 
 such that to pacify her the King gave her all the 
 Christmas presents which had been bestowed upon 
 him by his peers and friends ; and we learn that 
 at the great New Year's ball she was richer in jewels 
 than the Queen and the Duchess of York together. 
 The King certainly tried to keep up his idea of ap- 
 pearances, for he took Barbara to the play, and acknow- 
 ledged her presence always in public. " At the Park 
 was the King, and in another coach my Lady Castle- 
 maine, they greeting one another at every turn." 
 
 Barbara had schemed until she had secured rooms 
 in Whitehall near the King's chamber, and by May, 
 1663, had become a person to be feared and hated 
 by the King's advisers, as well as a byword among 
 the people. " The King do mind nothing but plea- 
 sures and hates the very sight and thought of business. 
 My Lady Castlemaine rules him who, he sees, hath 
 all the tricks of Aretin. If any of the sober counsellors 
 give him good advice and move him in anything that 
 is to his good and honour, the other part, which are 
 his counsellors of pleasure, take him when he is with 
 Lady Castlemaine, and in the humour of delight then 
 persuade him that he ought not to hear nor listen 
 to the advice of those old dotards, etc." Thus says 
 that true registrar of public sentiment, Pepys. 
 
 In April, 1663, he writes : " I did hear that the 
 Queen is much grieved at the King's neglecting her, 
 he not having supped once with her this quarter of a 
 year, and almost every night with my Lady Castle- 
 maine, who hath been with him this St. George's feast
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS d^ 
 
 at Windsor, and come home with him last night ; and, 
 which is more, they say is removed as to her bed from 
 her own home to a chamber in White Hall, next to 
 the King's own ; which I am sorry to hear, though I 
 love her much." 
 
 Frances Stuart went on with her growing sufficiently 
 to be called " a fine woman " a few months after her 
 arrival, but Gramont's description of her at that time 
 is perhaps the best for indicating what she was really 
 like. " Her figure [general appearance] was more showy 
 than engaging ; it was hardly possible for a woman 
 to have less wit or more beauty : all her features 
 were line and regular, but her shape was not good : 
 yet she was slender, straight enough, and taller than 
 the generality of women ; she was very graceful, 
 danced well, and spoke French better than her mother 
 tongue : she was well bred, and possessed, in perfec- 
 tion, that air of dress which is so much admired, and 
 which cannot be attained, unless it be taken, when 
 young, in France. While her charms were gaining 
 ground in the King's heart, the Countess of Castle- 
 maine amused herself in the gratification of all her 
 caprices." 
 
 By June we find Pepys sorrowing over Lady Castle- 
 maine as not being as handsome as he had taken her 
 for; he even goes so far as to say that she begins 
 to decay somewhat, " for which I am very sorry ! " 
 It may be that when Barbara found herself supplanted 
 it told so much upon her spirits and temper that her 
 face lost its charm, and there are many proofs of 
 this. 
 
 That the King fell in love with other women 
 did not make him an altogether indifferent husband ;
 
 68 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 he rode and drove with the Queen, and always gave 
 her all deference in public. We have a word picture 
 of him riding with her hand-in-hand from the Park, 
 she wearing a white-laced waistcoat and a crimson, 
 short petticoat, and her hair dressed a la negligence, 
 *' mighty pretty." Following them came Lady 
 Castlemaine, among the other ladies, with an air of 
 aloofness about her, no one noticing her and no 
 gallants pressing forward in rivalry to help her down 
 from her horse, so that her own gentleman had to 
 assist her. Among them also was Frances Stuart, 
 looking very charming " with her hat cocked and a red 
 plume, with her sweet eye, little Roman nose, and 
 excellent taille ; the greatest beauty [says Pepys] I 
 ever saw, I think, in my life ; and if ever woman can, 
 do exceed Lady Castlemaine, at least in this dress." 
 
 Barbara seemed to lose her temper with every one 
 by turns just now. As soon as Frances Stuart under- 
 stood the favourite's friendship, and as soon as the 
 latter understood that the King had fallen in love with 
 Frances, there was a battle royal between them, and 
 the girl stood upon her dignity as primly as Barbara 
 depended upon her temper. The former's maids and 
 the latter's nursemaids joined in the quarrel, so that 
 they could not meet without reviling each other and 
 each other's mistresses, with the result that the King 
 himself had more than once to be called upon the 
 scene to quiet them, much to the amusement of his 
 courtiers. The Queen came in for some of Ladv 
 Castlemaine's ill-humour, but she was weary of the 
 loud-voiced virago, and answered her with quiet 
 disdain. Coming into Catherine's room one day 
 when the long process of dressing was being accom-
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 69 
 
 plished, Lady Castlemaine cried pettishly, " Really, 
 I wonder how Your Majesty can have the patience to 
 sit so long a-dressing ! " "I have so much reason to 
 use patience that I can very well bear with it," re- 
 plied the Queen significantly. One day the King said 
 something that Barbara did not like, and in a raised 
 voice she vowed she would leave the palace and never 
 return. At once she set about collecting her belong- 
 ings and servants, and took them all off to Richmond. 
 This should have made Charles happy, and perhaps 
 had Frances Stuart been readier to encourage his 
 attentions it might have done so. As it was, his 
 thoughts went repeatedly to Castlemaine, and two 
 days after her departure he went hunting near Rich- 
 mond, called to see her, and tried to patch up the 
 quarrel, whereupon she vowed that she would not 
 forgive him unless he begged her on his knees ; so 
 eventually the King knelt and said what she wished, 
 and the next day she was back at Whitehall, to the 
 disappointment of most of its inhabitants. But 
 Charles was still further under her thumb, and meekly 
 carried out her orders, letting her have and do just 
 what she would. Even if she thought she wanted the 
 King when he was in the Council Room, she had no 
 hesitation in sending Sir Charles Berkeley for him, 
 and His Majesty came at her word. 
 
 Yet this meek monarch was becoming more infatu- 
 ated with little Stuart every day. From his pertinacity, 
 the trouble he showed, and the persuasions he used, 
 it is probable that this was the nearest he ever got to 
 the reality of love, and it was the one case in which he 
 was to be disappointed. Frances Stuart has been 
 censured by her historians for loving childish amuse-
 
 70 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 ments, such as blind-man's buff and card castles. 
 " She only wanted a doll to make her entirely a child," 
 says Gramont. None of them seems to have realized 
 that she was at the very age when a healthy girl loves 
 active play whether indoors or out, that, in fact, she 
 was a child. The remarkable thing was that grave 
 courtiers and roues as well as the King should succumb 
 to the fascinations of a careless girl of fourteen or 
 fifteen, should compete with her in building houses 
 of cards, or even be ready happily to stand by her side 
 handing the cards as she needed them. She was un- 
 affected, amused at everything, and laughed lightly 
 at them all. 
 
 The Duke of Buckingham held her regard for a 
 time, for he could build the finest tower of cards 
 imaginable, and he had a pleasant voice ; besides, 
 " he was the father and mother of scandal," and little 
 Miss Stuart had lived too long in a scandal-loving 
 society to object to listen to his amusing stories. 
 The Duke was one of those versatile, volatile men who 
 are always having a new idea about something, and 
 seeing how enamoured the King was with Frances, 
 he imagined that to get an ascendancy over her was 
 to have influence indirectly with the King. But he 
 did not allow for her youth. She pealed with laughter 
 at his stories, sang songs with him, competed in card- 
 building, and if he absented himself when she wanted 
 him would send all over the town to find him ; but 
 as soon as he became serious, as soon as she realized 
 that he, a married man, was suggesting impossible 
 things to her, he met with so severe a repulse that 
 he abandoned at once all his designs upon her. 
 However, he had to some extent gained his end, for
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 71 
 
 he had come to something like famiharity with the 
 King. 
 
 A courtier who appears again and again in these 
 short memoirs is Sir Henry Bennet, who, with Charles 
 Berkeley, was raised to the King's favour by Barbara. 
 Berkeley did not live long to enjoy the honours thrust 
 upon him, but Bennet, under the title of Earl of Ar- 
 lington, became principal Secretary of State and Lord 
 Chamberlain. He was a timid, underhand sort of man, 
 with no genius, yet with a useful experience of State 
 affairs, which kept him in office when more honest 
 men were in disfavour, a man of whom public opinion, 
 voiced by Pepys, said very hard things. In a diplomatic 
 affair abroad he had fallen in love with Spanish gravity, 
 and ever after cultivated a serious air and profound 
 manner, which Gramont says was accentuated by 
 a plaster of a lozenge shape, which, fixed across his 
 nose over an old scar, added to his mysterious looks. 
 Lord Arlington was, like so many other men, attracted 
 by the grace and beauty of Frances Stuart, and at 
 last determined to wait upon her with the idea of 
 offering her his humble service and best advice as to 
 how to conduct herself in her new post. The girl 
 received him kindly, and listened to the somewhat 
 pompous preface to his explanation of his visit. 
 Suddenly, as she listened, there entered her mind 
 some words and descriptions of the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham's, in which this man was caricatured. The 
 memory was too much for her when aided by Arling- 
 ton's solemn air, sedate manner, and the patch, and 
 suddenly she broke into laughter, all the more violent 
 and long because she had struggled to restrain it. The 
 Earl ceased speaking, stared at her for a moment.
 
 72 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 then abruptly left the room, wasting all the fine advice 
 he had meant to bestow upon her. He was in such a 
 rage that he thought of going to Lady Castlemaine 
 and joining her faction, or of quitting the Court 
 party and proposing an Act in Parliament to forbid 
 the King having mistresses — but he ended by going 
 to Holland and there getting a wife. 
 
 James Hamilton, the eldest of the brothers Hamil- 
 ton, the best-dressed man at Court, the best dancer 
 and the most general lover, at one time desired the 
 hand of the little maid of honour, but she laughed at 
 him as at all others, scarcely realizing that he was 
 serious in his aims, a fact which he himself soon forgot. 
 Francis Digby, Lord Bristol's son, was later the victim 
 of a real honest love for the girl, and because she 
 would not accept him it was said that he flung away 
 the life that he no longer valued in the great sea fight 
 with the Dutch in 1672. If that was so he had been 
 some years making up his mind, as Frances married 
 in 1667. 
 
 All through this spring and summer of 1663 Frances 
 Stuart lived her giddy, half-girlish, half -grown-up life 
 at Court, accepting all the attention offered her, 
 refusing all serious proposals, and enjoying herself 
 mightily. Lady Castlemaine was not so happy ; one 
 day she was all in evidence at Court, the next some 
 slighting word drove her to sulk in her own house ; 
 she was made much of by some, snubbed by others. 
 One night her cousin, the Duke of Buckingham, gave an 
 entertainment to the King and Queen, to which they 
 did not invite Barbara. " Much good may it do 
 them," she said, with a shrug ; " and for all that I will 
 be as merry as they." So she went home, had a
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 73 
 
 great supper laid, and sat down to wait, knowing that 
 the King would sympathize with her at the slight. 
 And, in fact, on leaving the Duke's house he came 
 straight to Barbara, and remained until the next 
 morning. Following this, she would make some 
 exorbitant demand, or publicly show her liking of 
 Jermyn, upon which there w^ould be a fierce and 
 somewhat one-sided quarrel with the King, she cursing 
 and shouting, like the termagant that she was, and 
 flouncing out of the palace. 
 
 The third person to be considered at this time 
 was the Queen, the lonely, brave little woman who, 
 after the first shock when she learned what her 
 married life entailed, hid her unhappiness from 
 others, grew brisk and debonair, won from her errant 
 husband the opinion that she was the best woman 
 in the world, and even raised the hope among the 
 people that she would triumph over Castlemaine. 
 In October she fell very ill of some fever ; one wonders 
 how much it was brought on by her unnatural 
 life of repression, and by another worry of which no 
 one had guessed until delirium gave it word. 
 
 Her illness was so long and so serious that every 
 one believed she would die. Pigeons were applied to 
 the soles of her feet — how mad were the prescribed 
 nostrums of that day ! — and Extreme Unction was 
 administered. All the Court, however, became very 
 deferential to Frances Stuart, believing that the King's 
 passion for her was so sincere that it would raise 
 her to the throne on the Queen's death. The little 
 Stuart's heart beat with unusual violence, and the 
 Duke of York's friends prayed with more than ordinary 
 fervour for " the Queen and all the Royal family."
 
 74 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 With all his faults, however, Charles could not bear 
 to see sufferins:, and his wife's illness called out all that 
 was best in his nature. He sat by her bed, held her 
 hand, soothed her when she raved, and took her 
 condition so much to heart that he wept over her, 
 and when she said that she willingly left all the 
 world but him, he begged her to live for his sake. 
 As she lost all control of her mind her talk became 
 pathetic in its revelations. She thought that her 
 illness had been caused by the birth of a child, and 
 wondered that she had felt no pain, and said it was a 
 sore trouble that her boy was ugly. " No," said the 
 King, " it is a very pretty boy." " Ah ! if it be like 
 you, it is a fine boy indeed, and I would be very pleased 
 with it," was her answer. Day after day she raved of 
 children, thus betraying the pain which she must have 
 felt at her childless life. She had three children, she 
 said, and the girl was very like her husband ; and on 
 waking from a sleep her first words were, " How do 
 the children ? " The fever gradually left her, and 
 the fact that she recovered she attributed to Charles's 
 kind words and care. 
 
 To relieve his mind and soothe the worry under 
 which he laboured, Charles went every night of his 
 wife's illness to sup with Lady Castlemaine. One 
 tempestuous evening the river rose and flooded 
 Barbara's kitchen, when there was a chine of beef for 
 supper, and the cook coming to tell her that no roasting 
 could be done that night, she lost her temper, crying, 
 " Zounds ! but it shall be roasted if you have to 
 set the house on fire to do it." So the joint was taken 
 next door, for Lord Sandwich's cook to deal with. 
 
 Anxiety about the Queen being allayed, some of
 
 BARBARA VILLIERS 75 
 
 Charles's friends entered into a little conspiracy to 
 induce Frances Stuart to give the King his way, 
 the Duke and Duchess of Buckingham, Lord Arling- 
 ton, and Edward Montague forming a committee 
 for that purpose. However, the girl was no fool, 
 nor was she self-proud ; she was what Pepys in scarcely 
 elegant language calls " a cunning slut," for she took 
 counsel with Henrietta Maria and with her own 
 mother as soon as she saw something strange was 
 premeditated, and so " all the plot was spoiled, the 
 committee fallen to pieces and the Duchess [of 
 Buckingham] going to a nunnery."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 FRANCES STUART, DUCHESS OF RICHMOND 
 
 " The picture of fair Venus that 
 (For which men say the goddess sat) 
 Was lost, till Lely from your look 
 Again that glorious image took." 
 
 Edmund Waller. 
 
 By the time Frances Stuart had been nearly a year 
 at Court she must have been hardened to all its ways, 
 and she now began to give the King many liberties 
 and much encouragement. He neglected Lady 
 Castlemaine altogether, and, to use a word much in 
 vogue, he doted on Miss Stuart, getting into corners 
 with her, and kissing her before all his little world ; 
 and she, expecting this sort o£ thing, stayed by her- 
 self, instead of mixing with the others, just as two 
 years earlier Barbara Palmer had done. Charles was 
 still kind to his old love, but evinced no such fondness 
 as once he had shown her. By the New Year the King 
 was absolutely besotted ; denial had not before been 
 offered him and it raised his passion to white heat. 
 He attended to no business, he openly neglected the 
 Queen, whose life he had saved so recently with soft 
 words, and he cared not who saw him at his love- 
 making. He was so constantly in Miss Stuart's rooms 
 that it was usual for any one who wished to see him 
 to make the inquiry, " Is the King above or below ? " 
 which was to say, in his own apartments or on the 
 
 76
 
 Frances Stl'art, Duchess of Richmond, as Diana 
 iAfler Ley) 
 
 [to face PAGTl 76
 
 FRANCES STUART 77 
 
 lower floor, where Miss Stuart lodged. Lady Castle- 
 maine is said to have revenged herself for this by en- 
 couraging the attentions of various courtiers, one being 
 Lord Sandwich, who tried to carry on this intrigue 
 secretly, so that he would lead her from her lodgings 
 in the " darkest and most obscure manner," and leave 
 her at the entrance to the Queen's lodgings, that he 
 might be the least observed. 
 
 But no matter what happened Barbara refused to 
 take second place in public. Pepys was at the theatre 
 one evening when she and the King were there and 
 noticed that she was in the box next to the King's. 
 In the middle of the play she leaned across the inter- 
 vening ladies and called the King. He naturally an- 
 swered her, and a whispered conversation took place. 
 Then she abruptly rose from her seat and entered 
 Charles's box ; there not being much room, his atten- 
 dants did what they could to make way for her, and 
 she came to the front, squeezed herself between the 
 King and the Duke of York, and so sat out the play, 
 " which put the King and everybody out of counten- 
 ance." 
 
 It was in July, 1664, that the picture of Frances 
 Stuart was painted, in the Chair Room opening 
 into one of the galleries of Whitehall. Pepys, who 
 was waiting to see some one, watched her coming out 
 of that room one day after her sitting, and he says 
 she was " in a most lovely form (tout ensemble), with 
 her hair all about her ears. There was the King and 
 twenty more, I think, standing by all the while, and 
 a lovely creature she in the dress seemed to be." She 
 was also painted by Huysman in a buff doublet like a 
 soldier.
 
 78 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 As for the portraits of Lady Castlemaine, there were 
 at least five full-length ones by or after Lely, one as 
 Mary Magdalen, and seven three-quarter length, of 
 which the finest is represented by an engraving of her 
 as Bellona or Minerva. Wissing and Gascar also painted 
 her, and her biographer, Steinman, says that there are 
 thirty different engravings of her pictures. 
 
 Though there was much love-making at the Court 
 of Charles II there were few marriages, for the King, 
 like Queen Elizabeth, did not like to see the fair ones 
 of the opposite sex become independent of him and 
 all his ways, causing Lady Castlemaine to remark, 
 with a laugh, that her own little daughter, then two 
 years old, would be the first maid in the Court to be 
 married. One of Charles's good points was his love 
 for children ; it is said that he would go to Lady 
 Castlemaine's at midnight to see the baby, taking it 
 from its nurse's arms to dance it about. 
 
 During these days the Chevalier de Gramont was 
 a personage at the English Court, though banished 
 from that of his master Louis for paying too much 
 attention to a lady favoured by that monarch. Having 
 received much courtesy from Charles, and desiring 
 to show his appreciation of the friendship bestowed 
 upon him, he ordered a calash to be built in Paris 
 for the King ; something newer even than the latest 
 invention — that of glass coaches, which had not so 
 far found favour with Englishwomen — which should 
 partake of the ancient fashion and yet be preferable 
 to the modern. The man he sent for it returned 
 with " the most elegant and magnificent calash that 
 had ever been seen," which was duly presented to 
 the King, who would only accept it on the condition
 
 FRANCES STUART 79 
 
 that the chevalier would not refuse another favour 
 from him, as he had once done in the past. All the 
 women of the Court admired the beautiful carriage 
 and desired to use it, but the first who appeared 
 publicly in it were the Queen and the Duchess of 
 York. My Lady Castlemaine, with her fine breeding, 
 thought what a sorry show those two made in such a 
 magnificent vehicle, and from that saw how splendidly 
 it would set off her own handsome figure and face ; 
 so she at once asked the King to lend it to her on the 
 first fine day to drive in the Park. The mischievous 
 Frances was determined that that should not be ; any- 
 thing should happen rather than that her rival should 
 snatch such a favour ; so she set herself to fascinate 
 the King anew and to persuade him to lend her the 
 carriage first. Charles did not know what to say or 
 do. Each lady used cajolery, then threats, the latter 
 getting of a more and more intimate nature. As 
 Lady Castlemaine expected again to become a mother, 
 she played upon Charles's paternal love, and foretold 
 mortal illness to herself and babe if her desire were 
 not granted. The bold and quick-witted girl, how- 
 ever, seized her moment : she threatened that never 
 would she become a mother if her request were refused. 
 That settled the matter, for such a prospect of 
 asceticism did not meet with Charles's approval. 
 Frances Stuart rode proudly in the calash, and Lady 
 Castlemaine was thrown into so terrible a rage that 
 she almost brought about the fulfilment of her own 
 prophecy. It settled something more important also, 
 and that was the girl's reputation, for it was generally 
 believed that she rewarded Charles in the way he 
 most desired. There is, however, no evidence that
 
 8o FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 this really happened beyond a line in the Memoirs. 
 Pepys constantly remarks that Mrs. Stuart is said to 
 be the King's mistress, or that some one tells him 
 that Charles " do intrigue with her," but this old 
 piece of news crops up regularly at intervals for years, 
 and Pepys ends by saying that Mrs. Stuart had played 
 a very worthy part. 
 
 The fashion of choosing valentines was very popular 
 at that time, and in 1664 Frances chose the King as 
 her valentine. The person chosen had to give a 
 present to the woman who had honoured him, and 
 the royal gift was probably the pearl necklace, worth 
 about ^iioo, which Frances afterwards said was one 
 of the few presents which she had accepted from 
 Charles. A year later the Duke of York took it into 
 his head to believe himself terribly in love with Mrs. 
 Stuart, upon which she declared him to be her valen- 
 tine, receiving as a gift a jewel which was valued at 
 ^800. She received an annual allowance from the 
 Privy purse of £joo a year for clothes, and took 
 nothing more. So considering the remarkable way in 
 which Lady Castlemaine secured gifts and sums of 
 money — _^30,ooo once from Charles — besides an in- 
 come of ^^4700 from the Post Office, large grants 
 from the Excise and Customs, huge " rents " from 
 place-holders, grants of plate from the " jewel-house," 
 and an enormous income from the sale of offices and 
 favours — there is no proof that Miss Stuart had placed 
 herself in such a position as to be awarded similar 
 emoluments. 
 
 Anthony Hamilton, the writer of the Chevalier 
 Gramont's Memoirs, joined the glad throng of Frances 
 Stuart's lovers, and obtained her friendship by an
 
 FRANCES STUART 8i 
 
 absurd trick. Gramont, who was in love with Hamil- 
 ton's sister, was alarmed to see not only that Anthony- 
 was deeper in love than was consistent with his for- 
 tunes, but that " that inanimate statue, Miss Stuart," 
 attended to him with pleasure. So he took the young 
 man to task and pointed out the danger of his paying 
 attentions to a girl " on whom the King seems every 
 day to dote with increasing fondness." He spoke 
 with so much effect that Hamilton explained how 
 the affair had begun, and undertook to break it off 
 at once. Turning to Gramont, he said : 
 
 " You are acquainted with all her childish amuse- 
 ments. The old Lord Carlingford was at her apart- 
 ment one evening, showing her how to hold a lighted 
 wax candle in her mouth, and the grand secret con- 
 sisted in keeping the burning end there a long time 
 without its being extinguished. I have, thank God, 
 a pretty large mouth, and, in order to outdo her 
 teacher, I took two candles into my mouth at the 
 same time, and walked three times round the room 
 without their going out. Every person present ad- 
 judged me the prize of this illustrious experiment, 
 and Killigrew maintained that nothing but a lantern 
 could stand in competition with me. Upon this she 
 was like to die with laughing ; and thus was I ad- 
 mitted into the familiarity of her amusements." 
 
 Of his subsequent friendship with the fair maid of 
 honour Hamilton has much to say which reflected 
 upon her good sense and delicacy. She either was 
 what gossip was very ready to proclaim her to be or 
 she was a pretty fool, always delighted to play with 
 fire but determined never to be burnt. Hamilton 
 supports the latter view by saying that it would be 
 
 F
 
 82 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 easy to persuade her to do most extraordinary 
 things " without ever reflecting upon what she was 
 doing." 
 
 Other writers fully bear out this statement. In 
 a despatch to Louis from one of his emissaries in 
 England, it is asserted that Frances Stuart " had a 
 leg so admirably shaped that an ambassador, on arriv- 
 ing in England and calling on her, begged her as a 
 favour to let him see almost up to her knee, so as to 
 be able to write to his master to confirm what he 
 had heard about the perfection of her calf and 
 ankle." 
 
 Gramont also tells a serio-comic story of green 
 stockings which is worth repeating. As has already 
 been recorded, the Duke of York paid sufficient atten- 
 tion to Lady Chesterfield to make Lord Chesterfield 
 ill with jealousy. The man fully deserved it ; he had 
 been Barbara's lover until the Restoration, and in 
 anger at her liaison with the King he had married 
 the beautiful daughter of the Duke of Ormond. As 
 soon as she was his wife she began to understand the 
 position of affairs ; she found that she was absolutely 
 nothing to her husband, who treated her with in- 
 difference and coldness. So she revenged herself by 
 flirting with other men, and as soon as Chesterfield 
 saw her surrounded with admirers he began to value 
 her. However, she had been so deeply wounded that 
 she bade him go his way while she went hers. One 
 of her ways was to amuse herself by detaching the 
 Duke of York from his amours, and she was soon 
 quite successful in making him think himself in love 
 with her. Chesterfield noted the symptoms and 
 grew mad with jealousy, going about hunting for
 
 FRANCES STUART 83 
 
 proofs and confiding in Hamilton, who also was 
 secretly in love with the wilful woman. 
 
 It may not be easy to foresee what this had to do 
 with Miss Stuart's stockings, but the sequel will show. 
 In his miserable speculations Chesterfield, in drawing 
 together his proofs, said to Count Hamilton : " Lady 
 Chesterfield is amiable, it must be acknowledged ; but 
 she is far from being such a miracle of beauty as she 
 supposes herself ; }'ou know she has ugly feet ; but 
 perhaps you are not acquainted that she has still 
 worse legs. They are short and thick ; and, to remedy 
 these defects as much as possible, she seldom wears 
 any other than green stockings. 
 
 " I went yesterday to Miss Stuart's, after the audi- 
 ence of those damned Muscovites ; the King arrived 
 there just before me ; and as if the Duke had sworn 
 to pursue me wherever I went that day, he came in 
 just after me. The conversation turned upon the 
 extraordinary appearance of the ambassadors. I know 
 not where that fool Crofts had heard all these Mus- 
 covites had handsome wives ; and that all their wives 
 had handsome legs. Upon this the King maintained 
 that no woman ever had such handsome legs as Miss 
 Stuart ; and she, to prove the truth of His Majesty's 
 assertion, with the greatest imaginable ease immedi- 
 ately showed her leg above the knee. Some were 
 ready to prostrate themselves in order to adore its 
 beauty ; for indeed none can be handsomer ; but 
 the^Duke alone began to criticize. He contended that 
 it was too slender, and that as for himself he would 
 give nothing for a leg which was not thicker and 
 shorter, and concluded by saying, that no leg was 
 worth anything without green stockings ; now this, in
 
 84 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 my opinion, was a sufficient demonstration that he 
 had just seen green stockings, and had them fresh in 
 his remembrance." 
 
 Poor Lady Green Stockings ! She expiated her sins 
 in the heart of the country, with her suspicious hus- 
 band as her constant companion, and died in a few 
 years. As for the irresponsible Frances Stuart, who 
 was then sixteen or seventeen, it is not to be wondered 
 at that there were those who questioned her propriety. 
 
 Among the other men who loved Frances Stuart 
 was Philip Roettiers, celebrated as a medallist, who 
 came to England to make the Peace of Breda medal 
 in 1667. Upon it La Belle Stuart figures as Britannia 
 seated at the foot of a rock, with the legend " Favente 
 Deo " ; she was also engraved as Britannia on the 
 Naval Victories medal of the same year. This placing 
 her upon medals seemed to become something of a 
 fashion, for one was struck solely in her honour with 
 the Britannia on the reverse, and in the British 
 Museum is to be seen her portrait on a thin plate 
 of gold, which induced Waller to write these lines 
 upon The Golden Medal : 
 
 " Our guard upon the royal side ! 
 On the reverse our beauty's pride ! 
 Here we discern the frown and smile ; 
 The force and glory of our isle. 
 In the rich medal, both so like 
 Immortals stand, it seems antique ; 
 Carved by some master, when the bold 
 Greeks made their Jove descend in gold ; 
 And Danae, wond'ring at that show'r, 
 Which falling storm'd her brazen tow'r. 
 Britantiia there, the fort in vain 
 Had batter'd been with golden rain ; 
 Thunder itself had failed to pass ; 
 Virtue's a stronger guard than brass."
 
 FRANCES STUART 85 
 
 The last four lines express the belief that neither by- 
 gold nor anger was Frances to be won, and Lady 
 Castlemaine is evidently meant in the last word. 
 Roettier also designed the halfpenny and placed the 
 face and figure of Frances upon its reverse, though it 
 was not issued until 1672. 
 
 Another admirer was her cousin Charles Stuart, 
 third Duke of Richmond, who was much too fond of 
 wine, being mentioned by Gramont as " that drunken 
 sot Richmond." He was however married, and his 
 admiration did not trouble any one seriously. 
 
 At the Duke of Monmouth's marriage we are 
 told that the fair Stuart, " then in the meridian of 
 her glory " (she was only fifteen at the time !), at- 
 tracted all eyes, and commanded universal respect 
 and admiration, and that Castlemaine did her utmost 
 to outshine her by wearing a load of jewels and by all 
 the artificial ornaments of dress, but in vain. The 
 rivalry between Stuart and Castlemaine never de- 
 creased, the two always being compared by the diarists ; 
 indeed, Barbara's continued enmity made things very 
 difficult for Frances, who continued to throw out hints 
 of retiring from Court, hints which rendered the King 
 absolutely frantic. He too was a difficult person to deal 
 with in those days, being moody and bad-tempered, 
 alternately slighted and smiled upon by the wilful girl, 
 who, while desiring to keep her ascendancy, was 
 also determined to keep her reputation. Charles 
 offered to reform his Court, to give up all other 
 mistresses if she would only show him the love he 
 needed ; but in vain. The Duke of Buckingham 
 actually planned to abduct the Queen and send her 
 off to the plantations, which at least would give an
 
 86 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 excuse for a divorce, and so make room for Miss 
 Stuart. Charles was however less depraved than his 
 adviser ; for he was horrified at the suggestion, saying 
 " it was a wicked thing to make a poor lady miserable, 
 only because she was his wife and had no children, 
 which was not her fault." Yet he was so far taken 
 with the idea of divorce that when he knew that he 
 had a formidable rival in Miss Stuart's affections he 
 asked Archbishop Sheldon if the Church of England 
 would allow of a divorce where both parties were con- 
 senting and one lay under a natural incapacity for 
 having children ? 
 
 There were others besides the Duke of Buckingham 
 ready to help Charles to get rid of one wife and take 
 another. During the heat of the Popish Plot, that 
 arch-villain and last word in affectation, Titus Oates, 
 stood at the bar of the House of Commons and 
 cried : 
 
 " Aie, Taitus Oates, accause Catherine, Queen of 
 England, of haigh traison ! " And to this charge he 
 added the evidence that he had once stood behind 
 a door which was ajar and had overheard the Queen 
 declare that she had resolved to give her consent to 
 the assassination of her husband. The public, moved 
 by its fear of Popery, was inclined to believe this 
 story, but Charles had more sense ; he had Oates 
 put under confinement, and it might have gone worse 
 with him than it did had there not been some 
 in high station who were too involved in Oates' 
 conspiracies to dare to allow him to be executed. 
 " They think," said Charles, " I have a mind to a 
 new wife, but for all that I will not see an innocent 
 woman abused."
 
 FRANCES STUART 87 
 
 Years later when Charles, in one of his virtuous 
 moods, determined to start a revised scheme of life, 
 he said of Catherine to Bishop Burnet that she was 
 a weak woman, and had some disagreeable humours, 
 but was not capable of a wicked thing, and considering 
 his faultiness towards her in other ways, he thought 
 it a horrid thing to abandon her. He said he looked 
 on falsehood and cruelty as the greatest crimes in the 
 sight of God ; he knew he had led a bad life, but 
 he was breaking himself of all his faults, and he would 
 never do a base or wicked thing. This was the man 
 then engaged in intriguing with France against the 
 interest of his own country for the sake of putting 
 money in his pocket ! 
 
 All through this period the Queen was friendly to 
 Frances, for she found her gentle, bright, and, so far 
 as could be told, honest. She had another quality 
 which saved her from all enemies excepting Lady 
 Castlemaine, and that was that she was never heard 
 to speak evil of any one. 
 
 But though Catherine had schooled herself to think 
 it necessary to be kind to those whom her husband 
 loved, there were times when she would fain have 
 been free from them all and have a little breathing 
 space in which to realize that she herself was of some 
 account in her husband's life. She thought no less of 
 her dream-children now that she was well than she had 
 thought in the madness of her illness ; her one desire 
 was to be a mother, and once she went to Tunbridge 
 Wells, hoping that a course of the waters would pro- 
 duce a good effect, just as a little later Mary of 
 Modena went to Bath with the most beneficial result, 
 if we may credit the fact sworn to by so many that
 
 88 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 James, the Pretender, was her son. Catherine chose a 
 time for going when Barbara was unable to accom- 
 pany her — " as her very presence at Court at that 
 moment would have been like an insult to the Queen " 
 — and made all her preparations with an unusual gaiety 
 of spirit. The King was going with her, and all prom- 
 ised well for Catherine until Charles commanded Miss 
 Stuart to be one of the party, and she, looking more 
 handsome than ever, began to make magnificent pre- 
 parations. Thenceforward the poor Queen lost all 
 interest in the projected visit ; she did not dare to 
 complain, but all hopes of success forsook her, and her 
 happiness was gone. 
 
 Indeed, Catherine's injuries were great. She lived 
 humbly compared with Barbara, her very jointure 
 was said to be bestowed upon the King's favourites, 
 and she rarely had money. Pepys waxed indignant 
 over this in 1664 when he wrote: "The King doats 
 beyond all shame upon his women and that the good 
 Queen will of herself stop sometimes before she goes 
 into her dressing-room for fear of finding him there 
 with Mrs. Stuart ; and that some of the best parts 
 of the Queen's jointure are, contrary to faith and 
 against the opinion of the Lord Treasurer, bestowed 
 or rented to Lord Fitzharding and Stuart and others 
 of that crew." 
 
 By the end of 1666 matters got into a strained 
 condition all round. Lady Castlemaine was becoming 
 more and more notorious for her ardent friendships 
 with different men, so that when flouted by Miss 
 Stuart Charles felt more or less debarred from con- 
 soling himself with Barbara, " the wanton," as Killi- 
 grew once called her, being promptly banished the
 
 FRANCES STUART 89 
 
 Court for his temerity. Charles could not for the 
 life of him imagine what Frances wanted him to do, 
 and nothing that he tried pleased her. Then, on 
 January 6th, 1667, the Duchess of Richmond died, 
 and as soon as she was buried the Duke appeared in 
 the train of Frances Stuart, and even went to the 
 King asking permission to wed her. It was a daring 
 thing to do, for Richmond had managed to secure 
 many favours from Charles, and had much to lose by 
 his anger. However, the King seems to have thought 
 it a ruse, and met it by pretending to accede to his 
 request. Secretly he ordered Lord Clarendon to 
 examine into Richmond's estates, for he knew that 
 the Duke's affairs were in a bad way ; and he offered 
 to make Frances a duchess in her own right and settle 
 an estate upon her. Burnet, who generally found evil 
 in Clarendon's actions, says that instead of playing 
 the King's game he persuaded Frances that though 
 Richmond's affairs were not very clear, a family so 
 nearly related to the King would never be left in 
 distress, and that, in fact, such a match would not 
 come in her way every day. Frances refused Charles's 
 offer, both of title and estates, and for a time seemed 
 to have forgotten the projected marriage. Yet she 
 made up her mind that nothing but marriage and 
 absence from Court would put and keep her right 
 before the world. 
 
 The King was genuinely in love, yet that did not 
 mean that he had no eyes for other women, and a 
 comic incident happened about this time which 
 showed not only how much he was under the domina- 
 tion of Miss Stuart, but how jealous she was of her 
 ascendancy over him.
 
 90 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Frances Jennings, the handsome sister of the future 
 Duchess of Marlborough, had been given the post 
 of maid of honour to the Duchess of York, and James 
 had at once capitulated to her charms. She would, 
 however, have none of him. He took to writing her 
 love letters, pushing one into her hand, her muff, her 
 pocket, an action which was often witnessed by others ; 
 then she would shake her muff or pull out her hand- 
 kerchief as soon as his back was turned, so that unopened 
 billets-doux fell about her like hailstones, and whoever 
 pleased might take them up. This so piqued the 
 curiosity of Charles that he determined to see if he 
 could not win where his brother failed. He was a 
 wit, and the fair Jennings was wonderfully pleased 
 with wit ; he was a King, " and royal majesty, pros- 
 trate at the feet of a young person, is very persuasive." 
 Who knows what might have happened had not 
 Frances Stuart been roused to action ? 
 
 She took the King in hand, demanded that he should 
 cease his attentions to Mrs. Jennings, and ended her 
 harangue with, " Leave to your brother, the Duke, 
 the care of tutoring the Duchess's maids of honour, 
 and attend to your own flock. But if you must pursue 
 this girl I demand the liberty of listening to those 
 who are ready to offer me a settlement in life which 
 I think to my advantage." 
 
 The King, as usual when a woman opposed him, 
 knuckled under at once. He cared nothing for Mrs. 
 Jennings, though his jaded fancy had been caught 
 by the exciting prospect of a chase, so he meekly 
 returned to his allegiance to Frances Stuart. She, 
 however, though pleased at this proof of her power, 
 still intended to settle down honourably, and knowing
 
 FRANCES STUART 91 
 
 that the Court offered her nothing worth having, she 
 encouraged the attentions of her cousin, hoping to 
 bring the affair to a peaceable conclusion. In this 
 she forgot Lady Castlemaine, and that lady contrived 
 to give at least a touch of drama to the end of this 
 love episode. She had never ceased to rail bitterly 
 against Miss Stuart as the cause of the King's coldness 
 to her, and against the King's weakness, which had 
 led him, for the sake of an inanimate idiot, to treat her 
 with indignity. She had spies in the palace and still 
 retained her old rooms there, and one night she heard 
 the news for which she was waiting. 
 
 She watched Charles come, with very black face, 
 from Frances Stuart's apartments, and slipping through 
 the room of Chifiinch, the notorious page of the 
 backstairs, into the King's cabinet, she presented her- 
 self before him, thus adding to his anger. But before 
 he could express his feelings she said, with ironical 
 humility, " I hope I may at least be allowed to pay 
 you my homage, although the angelic Stuart has for- 
 bidden you to visit me at my house. I have not come 
 to reproach or to expostulate with you, or to excuse 
 myself for my frailties, seeing that your constancy for 
 me allows me no defence. I have no other intention 
 than to comfort and to console you upon the grief 
 into which her coldness or new-fashioned chastity 
 has plunged Your Majesty." At this she burst into 
 a fit of laughter " as unnatural and strained as it was 
 insulting and immoderate," which completely infuri- 
 ated the King ; but as he would have answered her 
 she stopped him again by telling him that if the Duke 
 of Richmond were not at that moment with Miss 
 Stuart he soon would be there, and added, " Don't
 
 92 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 believe what I say, but find out for yourself. Follow 
 me to her apartment that you may either honour her 
 with a just preference if what I say is false ; or if my 
 information is found to be true, you will no longer 
 be the dupe of a pretended prude, who makes you 
 act so ridiculous a part." 
 
 She then took him by the hand and pulled him to- 
 wards her rival's rooms. 
 
 There was no one to warn Frances Stuart, for 
 Chiffinch was retained in Castlemaine's interest, and 
 another servant who was in the secret came and whis- 
 pered in the latter's ear that the Duke of Richmond 
 had just gone into Miss Stuart's rooms. As Charles 
 entered the door leading to the girl's apartments, 
 Lady Castlemaine bade him good night and went 
 back to her own chamber to await the news. 
 
 In the vestibule the King met some chamber- 
 maids, who respectfully opposed his entrance, one 
 telling him that her mistress had been seriously ill 
 since he left, but had gone to bed and was now, God 
 be thanked, in a very fine sleep. 
 
 " I will see that for myself," said Charles, pushing 
 the woman aside and marching through the sitting- 
 room to the bedroom. It was quite true that Miss 
 Stuart was in bed, but she was certainly not asleep, 
 for the Duke of Richmond was sitting by her. The 
 scene that followed was short and sharp. " The King, 
 who of all men was one of the most mild and gentle," 
 as one of his admirers says, uttered his rage to the 
 Duke in such terms as he had never before used about 
 anything, rendering him absolutely speechless, indeed 
 almost petrified, until his eyes fell upon the window, 
 below which flowed the Thames. The ungovernable
 
 FRANCES STUART 93 
 
 anger of Charles and fear of the easy revenge which 
 the window offered to the King stirred the Duke to 
 action ; he made a profound bow, and left the room 
 without replying a single word to the torrent of 
 threats which had poured upon him. 
 
 Frances Stuart, however, had learned one lesson 
 from Lady Castlemaine. Instead of being fearful or 
 apologetic she began to complain of the way the 
 King had treated her ; said that if she were not 
 allowed to receive visits from a man of rank who came 
 with honourable intentions she was a slave in a free 
 country ; that she knew no reason why she should not 
 marry whom she pleased, and if she could not do 
 that in England, she did not believe any power on 
 earth could prevent her from going into a nunnery 
 in France to enjoy the peace which was denied her 
 here. She cried and threatened to kill herself, and 
 reduced the King to the point of throwing himself 
 upon his knees to beg for pardon, when she demanded 
 that he should leave her to repose, and not offend the 
 person who had brought him to her room by a longer 
 visit. Stung again to anger the King went out 
 abruptly, saying he would never see her again ; and 
 it is said he passed the most restless and uneasy night 
 he had experienced since the Restoration. 
 
 The next morning the Duke of Richmond set out 
 very early for his country seat, without waiting to 
 receive the King's command that he should never 
 again appear at Court ; and as soon as it was possible 
 Frances threw herself at the Queen's feet, and with 
 tears protested her sorrow at ever having caused Her 
 Majesty any uneasiness, adding that her repentance 
 induced her to desire, most sincerely, to retire from
 
 94 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 the Court, for which reason she had accepted the 
 Duke of Richmond's attentions, as he had long been 
 in love with her. Now, however, love had brought 
 about his disgrace and had created a great disturbance 
 which would do injury to her reputation, therefore 
 she begged Her Majesty's protection and help to per- 
 suade the King to let her go into a convent and so 
 end all the troubles she had caused. This, of course, 
 worked upon the kind Queen's feelings ; she mingled 
 her tears with those of Frances, and promised to do 
 all she desired. Yet, on second thoughts, she decided 
 differently. She knew that if Miss Stuart were not 
 absorbing Charles's attentions some one else would, 
 and as she must have a rival she considered Frances 
 would be better than any one else ; then, too, she 
 hoped to win her husband's gratitude by keeping at 
 his side this girl whom he loved. So she begged Miss 
 Stuart to abandon her schemes, prevailed upon her 
 to think no more of Richmond, and actually reconciled 
 her with Charles. 
 
 For a short time there was peace, Charles was happy 
 and Mistress Stuart appeared to be so. But she was 
 evidently determined to establish herself on a basis 
 which was somewhat more solid than that of the 
 King's favour. Towards the end of March, 1667, 
 she stole quietly from her rooms at Whitehall, 
 and went through a raging storm to the " Beare by 
 London Bridge," where she met the Duke of Rich- 
 mond. They journeyed down into Kent and were 
 married in Cobham Hall. 
 
 The morning after Frances Stuart's elopement 
 Lord Cornbury, the Earl of Clarendon's son, was 
 going to her rooms to see her upon some business
 
 FRANCES STUART 95 
 
 matter, when he met the King coming from her door, 
 his face dark with fury. Charles, thinking that Corn- 
 bury knew all about the affair, was delighted to have 
 some one upon whom he could vent his rage, and the 
 young man had to stand and listen to such a storm 
 of invective as had never assailed his ears before. 
 Every time he tried to interpose the King grew more 
 fierce, and the interview closed with Cornbury, in a 
 panic, not knowing how he had offended or how to 
 defend himself. Later in the day he was admitted 
 to the King's presence and then allowed to speak, 
 being finally exonerated from blame. Yet, Burnet 
 says, this made so deep an impression upon Charles's 
 mind that he resolved to take the seal from Corn- 
 bury's father. Clarendon. 
 
 He is said to have believed that Clarendon played 
 him false in the matter of the Duke of Richmond's 
 estate ; also that he had heard of the idea of the 
 divorce and was so disturbed by it that he had at once 
 incited the lovers to an elopement that he might 
 keep the succession secure to his daughter's husband. 
 
 In April, 1667, Pepys and Evelyn had a nice long 
 gossip over the events of the day, and Evelyn told 
 his friend among other things how he believed Miss 
 Stuart to be as virtuous a woman as any in the world ; 
 and that she was come to that pass that she would 
 have married any gentleman of £iS'^o ^ year who 
 would have her in honour, for she could no longer 
 stay at Court without yielding to the King, and that 
 she will never again go to Court excepting just to 
 kiss the Queen's hand, and that she had sent back to 
 Charles all the jewels he had given her — which had 
 much annoyed him.
 
 96 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 For a time after the flight of Frances, Lady Castle- 
 maine was happy : she had the King all to herself, and 
 she contrived to hide from him all information of 
 the various lovers whom she favoured. They went 
 expeditions together to buy jewels, which were paid 
 for from the Privy purse ; they played at games and 
 romped like children, and they quarrelled like children. 
 On one occasion the Queen said to her before her 
 ladies in her drawing-room that she feared the King 
 took cold by staying so late at her house. At which 
 Lady Castlemaine answered with temper that he did 
 not stay late with her, for he left her house early ; 
 therefore, if he was late, he must go somewhere else. 
 As she spoke the King entered, and overhearing her 
 answer was seized by sudden temper in his turn. He 
 whispered in her ear that she was a bold, impertinent 
 woman, who should leave the Court and not come 
 back until he sent for her. With furious but haughty 
 air she swept from the room, and presently, from 
 Whitehall, going to a lodging in Pall Mall. For three 
 days there was silence, then she sent to ask the King 
 whether she could not fetch her things away. Charles 
 practically answered that if she wanted them she must 
 come for them, and of course she went, Charles seeing 
 her when she arrived and making up the quarrel. 
 There is a hint that she had made use of threats during 
 those three days, declaring that she would publish 
 the letters she had received from him. 
 
 Another time the quarrel was about the Duke of 
 Buckingham's disgrace, and Barbara added to many 
 coarse and wild words those of calling Charles a fool 
 to his face. The intimacy with Jermyn had dragged 
 its weary length through several years, and when
 
 FRANCES STUART 97 
 
 Barbara announced the expected birth of another 
 child the King absolutely refused to own it, which 
 sent the delightful lady into a paroxysm of rage. 
 With oaths and screamings she vowed to him that 
 unless he owned it and had it christened in the Royal 
 chapel she would bring the babe to Whitehall and 
 dash its brains out before all who might be present. 
 Then she swept from the palace like a tornado, shutting 
 herself up in the house of Sir Daniel Harvey, where — 
 for she had again uttered many disquieting threats in 
 her rage — the King sought her. The reconciliation 
 was not quite so easy this time, but at last, when 
 Charles prayed for her pardon on his knees, and 
 promised a specially coveted present, Barbara conde- 
 scended to be friends. But this had taken some days, 
 and all London was laughing over the affair, and 
 lampoons were written upon it. The promise of plate 
 — in this instance 5600 ounces from the jewel-house — 
 was promptly fulfilled. 
 
 Between March and August of 1677 various efforts 
 had been made to induce Clarendon voluntarily to 
 give up his Chancellor's Seal, and Barbara worked as 
 heartily as any one in achieving the unfortunate man's 
 downfall. On more than one occasion she was heard 
 to express a wish that she could have his head on a 
 stake, and she lost no opportunity of adding to 
 Charles's wrath against his minister. When at last 
 he fell she showed extravagant delight, and to see 
 him pass from his interview with the King, rushed out 
 in her smock into her aviary which overlooked White- 
 hall and loudly bandied jests with the courtiers upon 
 the event. 
 
 Charles could not long be faithful to Barbara, and 
 G
 
 98 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 a new beauty soon arose to disturb her peace in the 
 form of Nell Gwyn, the pretty orange-seller who was 
 allowed to vend her fruit in the pit of the Theatre 
 Royal. When Barbara was twenty-six Nell was but 
 seventeen, pretty, arch, and gay, her tongue given to 
 repartee, and quite devoid of affectation. Charles 
 Hart, grand-nephew to Shakespeare, and John Lacy, 
 the actors, are said to have been responsible for her 
 elevation from the pit to the stage. Pepys tells us 
 that Lord Buckhurst took her from the stage in July 
 of 1667 ; if so, she was certainly back in August. 
 There are various stories as to the King's infatuation 
 for her at first sight. One is that when reciting an 
 epilogue in a hat " of the circumference of a large 
 coach wheel," her little figure looked so droll under 
 it that Charles took her home in his coach to supper. 
 Another story goes that she was befriended by Lady 
 Castlemaine and lived for a time under the protection 
 of that brother, or half-brother, of hers of whom we 
 occasionally hear. This man was careful to keep her 
 hidden from the King's eyes, but one night when he 
 took her to the theatre Charles and the Duke of York 
 were present, and being attracted by her witty tongue 
 invited both her and her cavalier to supper. When 
 it came to paying neither Charles nor his brother had 
 sufficient money, and Mr. Villiers had to lose both 
 his money and his mistress. This was the new rival 
 with whom Lady Castlemaine had now to reckon, one 
 whom she affected to despise because of her low birth, 
 yet who angered her far more directly than Miss 
 Stuart had done, for she mocked her openly, mimicked 
 her scornful airs, and had so much more wit that she 
 could always get the better of her in a heated argu-
 
 FRANCES STUART 99 
 
 ment. Years later Nell annoyed the Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth as much as she did Lady Castlemaine, and a 
 pleasantly ridiculous story " was blazed about " con- 
 cerning a deadly revenge the two dames took upon 
 her. It was said that the King had given Nell Gwyn 
 £20,000, which so angered Lady Cleveland (Barbara) 
 and Madame Carwell (Louise) that they arranged a 
 supper at Berkshire House, to which they invited their 
 rival. As Nell was in the act of drinking, she was 
 " suddenly almost choked with a napkin, of which she 
 was since dead ; and this idle thing runs so hot that 
 Mr. PhiHps asked me the truth of it, but I assured 
 him I saw her yester night in the Park." Thus says 
 one, writing to Sir Joseph Williamson ; it is beauti- 
 fully vague, but the story probably highly interested 
 and amused Society. 
 
 With Nell, Lady Castlemaine classed that other 
 comedienne Moll Davies, whose daughter, Mary 
 Tudor, had been born in 1663, and who had ever since 
 kept up an intermittent friendship with Charles. 
 
 When Barbara found that anger, sulks, alternate 
 kindness and harshness had no effect in causing Charles 
 to break off his connection with these two, she deter- 
 mined to revenge herself by attracting Charles Hart 
 to her side, Pepys telling us that " my Lady Castle- 
 maine is mightily in love with Hart," that he is much 
 with her in private, and that " she do give him many 
 presents." 
 
 There is no doubt but that Barbara had to pay 
 in a disagreeable manner for her many light deeds. 
 It was in the spring of 1668 that a wave of indigna- 
 tion passed over working-class London at the loose 
 life of the Court, it being expressed in raids made
 
 100 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 by the apprentices upon all houses of ill-fame. This 
 gave an excellent opportunity to the lampooners, and 
 an ingenious libel was published purporting to be a 
 humble petition from certain women to the " Most 
 Splendid, Illustrious, Serene, and Eminent Lady of 
 Pleasure, the Countess of Castlemaine." A few days 
 later a pretended answer to this was published as 
 coming from Lady Castlemaine herself. Such an 
 event caused passion and tears, and to soothe the 
 handsome termagant the King did the only thing he 
 could do, made her a present. Thus Berkshire House, 
 in St. James's, with its large grounds, fell into the 
 hands of this snapper-up of valuable trifles. Two 
 years later Barbara sold the house, also the garden for 
 building plots, and kept only the south-west corner of 
 the estate, on which was erected Cleveland House. 
 We are still reminded of her when in St. James's by 
 passing through Cleveland Court, Cleveland Square, 
 or Cleveland Row. 
 
 Though the Duke and Duchess of Richmond were 
 practically banished from Court, they had a powerful 
 friend there in the person of the Queen, who really 
 missed Frances, and who certainly found the atmo- 
 sphere of her home too much charged with electricity 
 by Lady Castlemaine. It may have been a desire 
 for peace which made her approach the King as 
 mediator between him and Richmond, with the result 
 that while Frances was giving gorgeous entertain- 
 ments at Somerset House, Charles made some calls 
 upon her publicly, and in July, 1668, she became 
 woman of the bed-chamber to Catherine. 
 
 Earlier in the year, however, she was attacked by 
 smallpox, and some say was badly disfigured ; but
 
 FRANCES STUART loi 
 
 the chief proof of this seems to be some remarks 
 made by Pepys during her illness : she is " mighty full 
 of small-pox, by which all do conclude that she will 
 be wholly spoiled, which is the greatest instance of 
 the uncertainty of beauty that could be in this age." 
 Four days later he writes : " I did see Mrs. Stuart's 
 picture as when a young maid, and now just done 
 before her having the small-pox ; and it would make 
 a man weep to see what she was then, and what she 
 is like to be, by people's discourse, now\" Later, 
 however, he speaks of seeing her, describing her as of 
 as noble a person as he ever saw^, but her face con- 
 siderably worse than it was by reason of the small- 
 pox. 
 
 Marred or not, she again became a personage of 
 the Court, and we hear again of the factions which 
 attend her and Lady Castlemaine, and of how the 
 King made midnight visits to her. One Sunday night 
 he had ordered his coach to be ready to take him to 
 the Park, but suddenly changed his mind, jumped 
 into a boat, and either quite alone, or with but one 
 attendant, rowed to Somerset House. There, finding 
 the door into the garden locked, he clambered over 
 the wall, so eager was he to see the Duchess. The 
 meaning of this seems to be borne out by an assertion 
 made by Lord Dartmouth, who tells of an incident 
 when both the King and the Duke of Richmond 
 were staying at Lord Townsend's, in Norfolk. Rich- 
 mond " as usual got beastly drunk," and Charles, dis- 
 gusted, told him openly that he had gained more 
 kindness from Frances since her marriage than he 
 had ever been able to persuade her to show him before. 
 In 1670 the Duke was sent out of the way to Scotland, 
 
 LTBKAEY 
 
 UNIVEKS^TTY (^F CAT.TFOENIA 
 SANTA BARBARA
 
 I02 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 and the following year he was made ambassador to 
 Denmark, where he died at the end of 1672. His 
 titles reverted by relationship to Charles II, who 
 allowed a bounty of ;^i5o to the widowed Duchess. 
 
 Frances continued many years at Court, and in 
 1670 we have an account of a " frolic " in which she 
 attended the Queen. When staying at Audley End 
 they, with the Duchess of Buckingham, dressed in 
 country women's clothes, went to the fair, Sir Bernard 
 Gascoigne riding before them on a cart-horse. They 
 did their best to talk in the country dialect, and went 
 from one booth to another buying things. The 
 Queen asked for a pair of garters for her sweetheart, 
 and Sir Bernard hunted for a pair of gloves stitched 
 with blue as a present for his sweetheart ; but their 
 dresses were such exaggerations of the local fashion, 
 and their talk fell so short of local diction, that all 
 the people at the fair gathered round, wondering 
 who they were and thinking them play actors. At 
 last some well-informed person recognized the Queen, 
 and then they were mobbed by curious and good- 
 humoured people. It was with great difficulty that 
 the Royal party regained their horses, and as soon as 
 they mounted every one in the fair who had a horse 
 mounted and followed, and so escorted the Queen, 
 much to her annoyance, back to her house. 
 
 One account tells us that Frances attended Mary 
 of Modena at her accouchement in 1688, and signed 
 the certificate before the Council ; she was also at 
 Anne's coronation, and died a Roman Catholic in 
 1702. Those who would like to see a travesty of this 
 famous beauty in her middle life will find the wax 
 effigy made to carry in her funeral procession among
 
 FRANCES STUART 103 
 
 the waxworks in Westminster Abbey, dressed in the 
 robes she wore at Anne's coronation. 
 
 From 1668 Barbara Castlemaine became so out- 
 rageous in her amours that Charles was actually 
 ashamed of her. Jermyn and Hart were succeeded 
 by Jack Churchill ; and the Duke of Buckingham, be- 
 tween whom and Barbara existed both jealousy and 
 hatred, played for her the traitorous part she had played 
 for Miss Stuart. On one occasion when he knew that 
 Churchill was with the too open-hearted mistress, he 
 brought the King to call on some pretext. In horrified 
 surprise Churchill jumped out of the window, but 
 not before his Royal master recognized him, and 
 called scornfully, " I forgive you, you do it for your 
 bread." 
 
 If Barbara was rapacious for money she was liberal 
 to the men whom she courted, and she gilded the 
 pill of disgrace for this man with ^5000 ; which, with 
 characteristic caution, he used to purchase an annuity, 
 thus laying the foundations of his fortunes. The 
 story has been told to his discredit that years later 
 when Barbara once lost heavily at basset, and asked 
 him for half a crown — or as one account has it, for 
 ^20 — that she might stake anew, he refused her, though 
 he had ;^iooo lying on the table ; but this has been 
 described by a contemporary as " a piece of travelling 
 scandal." When Barbara's last child, a girl, was born 
 she was named Barbara Fitzroy, though the King 
 knew that Churchill — or at least any one but himself 
 — ^was her father. 
 
 Lady Castlemaine in monetary difficulties was, how- 
 ever, at times still rich compared with the King, for 
 his poverty was occasionally a thing to cause many
 
 104 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 tongues to wag. He gave to his woman as much as 
 he could secure, and often paid his servants nothing 
 for months ; they to supply their needs rifled his 
 wardrobe, his plate-room, in fact, any part of the 
 palace which they could safely attack. During one 
 week in which Barbara lost _j^25,ooo at basset it is 
 recorded that Charles only had three white neckties, 
 and not a single handkerchief. His very shirts took 
 wings, and we read of foreign visitors coming to 
 present themselves at Court so badly dressed that 
 they would be rigged out in some of the King's own 
 clothes before being allowed to appear before His 
 Majesty. What a subject for musical comedy ! 
 
 No wonder that the people, seeing where their 
 money went, grew to hate the name of Lady Castle- 
 maine, and on one occasion when she had gone to see 
 the puppets at St. Bartholomew's fair a crowd col- 
 lected round the booth to hiss at and annoy the King's 
 " Miss." But when she came forth her beauty, her 
 bright eyes and smiling lips, her expression of good 
 comradeship made such an impression that in silent 
 wonder they watched her enter her carriage and drive 
 away. Her extravagance infuriated them as much as 
 her immorality, for they knew that she had no right 
 to the money she spent. Evelyn speaks of the gallantry 
 or brave show of the ladies at the theatre being infinite, 
 and that Lady Castlemaine — an adjective written be- 
 fore her name is erased in the printed book — wore 
 jewels esteemed at ^40,000 and more, " far out- 
 shining the Queen." 
 
 It was in 1670 that Charles did his best to be quit of 
 a woman who had brought him more trouble than plea- 
 sure for ten years. The Chevalier de Gramont takes
 
 FRANCES STUART 105 
 
 the credit to himself of arranging the terms of agree- 
 ment between them, and he names Jermyn and Jacob 
 Hall, the rope-dancer, as the men who were the im- 
 mediate cause of bitter raillery on the King's part, 
 and on hers " of an impetuosity of temper which 
 burst forth like lightning." She told her monarch 
 " that it very ill became him to throw out such re- 
 proaches against one, who, of all the women in Eng- 
 land, deserved them the least ; that he had never ceased 
 quarrelling thus unjustly with her, ever since he had 
 betrayed his own mean inclinations ; that to gratify 
 such a depraved taste as his, he wanted only such 
 silly things as Stuart, Wells [a maid of honour], and 
 that pitiful strolling actress [Nell Gwyn] whom he 
 had lately introduced into their society." Gramont 
 continues : " Floods of tears, from rage, generally 
 attended these storms ; after which, resuming the 
 part of Medea, the scene closed with menaces of tear- 
 ing her children to pieces and setting his palace on 
 fire. What course could he pursue with such an out- 
 rageous fury, who, beautiful as she was, resembled 
 Medea less than her dragons, when she was thus en- 
 raged ! " 
 
 The end of this quarrel was that Barbara was created 
 Baroness Nonsuch of Nonsuch Park, Surrey, Countess 
 of Southampton, and Duchess of Cleveland, with 
 remainder to her first and third natural sons, Charles 
 and George " Palmer." She also received the Park 
 and Palace of Nonsuch. In return she was to abandon 
 Jermyn for ever, she was never more to rail against 
 Miss Wells, nor storm against the Duchess of Rich- 
 mond. 
 
 Though Barbara still, in the interest of her children,
 
 io6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 tried to keep the King's favour, she continued her 
 attachments with other men. 
 
 It was about 1672 that WiUiam Wycherley, the 
 dramatist, after the production of Love in a Wood, in 
 which it is asserted that great wits and great braves 
 have a flaw in their pedigree, happened to pass the 
 Duchess in the coach drawn by eight in which 
 she drove. Barbara stopped the coach and shouted 
 some ribald remark to him about his mother, thus 
 facetiously intimating that he was a great wit. From 
 that time until he married Wycherley kept up a con- 
 nection with her and received large sums of money. 
 
 There had been suggestions at various times that 
 Barbara should be sent to Paris as a good way of dis- 
 posing of her, and this actually happened in 1675, 
 after a period during which she had exacted by the 
 complaisance of the King enormous sums from various 
 public sources. In Paris she was anything but popular, 
 and consoled herself by carrying on an intrigue with 
 the English ambassador, Ralph Montagu, whom a 
 little later, because he transferred his affections from 
 her to her daughter, Lady Sussex, she betrayed to 
 Charles. 
 
 In the midst of this affair Charles wrote to remon- 
 strate with her on the publicity of her acts, to which 
 she replied : " I promise you that for my conduct it 
 shall be such as that you nor nobody shall have occa- 
 sion to blame me. And I hope you will be just to 
 what you said to me, which was at my house when 
 you told me you had letters of mine. You said, 
 ' Madam, all that I ask of you for your own sake is, 
 live so for the future as to make the least noise you 
 can, and I care not who you love ! ' "
 
 FRANCES STUART 107 
 
 A few months before Charles's death she returned 
 to England and commenced a liaison with the actor 
 Cardell, or Cardonnell Goodman, who a year earlier 
 had been convicted of an attempt to poison two of 
 her sons. By him she had a son whom " the town 
 christened Goodman Cleveland." Goodman is said 
 to have refused to let the play begin until she appeared 
 in the theatre, going to the front of the stage even 
 when Royalty was present to inquire loudly whether 
 his Duchess had arrived. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine, who had long ago divorced his 
 wife and married again, died in 1705 ; and then Barbara, 
 having suffered much from public indifference and 
 from being obliged to sink more or less into obscurity, 
 and who was then sixty-four, married Beau Feilding. 
 This man, who was famed, as Barbara had been, for 
 his beauty, was fifteen years younger than she and a 
 pertinacious fortune-hunter. It is impossible to be 
 anything but amused to know that it was now Barbara 
 the Termagant who had to knuckle under to a mind 
 more coarse and ferocious than her own. Her curses 
 did not count against Feilding's deeper, wider range 
 of language, and threats of violence were useless against 
 the fact of violence itself. When Barbara was not as 
 generous as he wished Feilding felt no hesitation about 
 beating her and ill-using her to such an extent that 
 she became not only very ill, but terrified, for " hand- 
 some Feilding," as Charles once dubbed him, openly 
 said he would as soon kill her as kill a dog, and she 
 feared him so much that it was long before she dared 
 seek the protection of the law. Even when he was 
 being tried at the Old Bailey, before Lord Chief 
 Justice Holt, she would not speak against him until
 
 io8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 he had been removed from the Court. He was com- 
 mitted to Newgate, but to the despair of Barbara, 
 who feared his vengeful violence, was released on 
 bail. 
 
 Then came an unexpected deliverance. The Duke 
 of Grafton, Barbara's grandson, received a communica- 
 tion from a woman named Mary Wadsworth, who 
 claimed the name of Feilding, and when all the truth 
 came out it was found that a few weeks before Lady 
 Cleveland married the Beau he had been united to a 
 person whom he believed to be a Mrs. Deleau, a rich 
 widow. But as he had promised a go-between ^^500 
 to effect the introduction he had been cheated, and a 
 woman of doubtful character presented to him as the 
 willing and wealthy Mrs. Deleau. As soon as he found 
 out the fraud, he used dire threats of violence to his 
 wife and the match-maker and pursued his courtship 
 of the Duchess. So once more Robert Feilding was 
 tried, this time before a full bench, found guilty of 
 bigamy, and sentenced to be branded in the hand. 
 This sentence was, however, remitted, and Beau 
 Feilding passed the rest of his life with Mary Wads- 
 worth in rooms in Scotland Yard, where he had lived 
 in the height of his best days. 
 
 The last dramatic scene in Barbara's life was when 
 the Ecclesiastical Court pronounced the decree of 
 divorce in May, 1707. Contrary to custom, the 
 official who read it out stood up, out of deference to 
 her and her sons. " And then the Duchess of Cleve- 
 land leaving the court, she was led through West- 
 minster Hall by the Duke of Northumberland [her 
 son], having a tipstaff to clear the way for her to her 
 coach, and respected all through the hall by the gentle-
 
 FRANCES STUART 109 
 
 men, while Feilding was ignominiously hooted out of 
 Palace Yard." She lived about two and a half years 
 longer in retirement at Chiswick, dying of dropsy on 
 October 9th, 1709, her last words being, " Give me 
 back my beauty." At least so it has been written. 
 The little that remained of the fabulous sums of 
 money which had passed through her hands she left 
 to her grandson, the Duke of Grafton.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON 
 
 " What you design by nature's law 
 
 Is lieeting inclination ; 
 That willy-wisp bewilds us a' 
 
 By its infatuation. 
 When that goes out, caresses tire 
 
 And love's no more in season, 
 Though weakly we blow up the fire 
 
 With all our boasted reason." 
 
 Allan Ramsay. 
 
 A LADY whose name would not have lived through the 
 centuries had it not been for the portrait of her by 
 Lely, and the short account of her character by 
 Gramont, was Mrs. Jane Middleton, who was the 
 eldest daughter of Sir Robert Needham and his second 
 wife, he being a relative of Evelyn the diarist. 
 
 Jane Needham was born in Lambeth at the end of 
 1645, and grew up a very beautiful girl, being so attrac- 
 tive that at the early age of fifteen she captivated and 
 married a man ten years older than herself, named 
 Charles Middleton. He was not a rich man, though 
 he had an estate in Denbighshire called Plas Baddy. 
 That his father. Sir Thomas Middleton, was also of 
 no great wealth is shown by the fact that he only left 
 his children a sum of £100 a year each. 
 
 To Charles and Jane Middleton two daughters 
 were born, one at the end of 1661, when the mother 
 
 no
 
 Mrs. Jane Middlktox 
 {After Lely) 
 
 [to face I'ACiE 110
 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON in 
 
 was just sixteen, and the second, who was given the 
 curious name of Althamia, two or three years later, — 
 however there is some shght evidence that the latter 
 was the daughter of Ralph Montagu, afterwards Duke 
 of Montagu. 
 
 In the beginning of January, 1662-3, the Chevalier 
 de Gramont came to London to pass his enforced 
 exile from the French Court. He had had the temerity, 
 not for love, but for the sake of idleness and con- 
 trariety, to attempt to attract one of the mistresses of 
 Louis XIV, and though the King cared little more 
 for the lady than did the Chevalier, the latter found 
 himself a banished man. He brought with him to 
 this country a certain way of regarding w^omen which 
 was different from that customary among EngHshmen. 
 The latter, attracted by this or that face, would 
 perhaps pursue the owner, but Gramont set himself in 
 cold blood to seek some one to whom to pay attention. 
 When he first arrived he was enthusiastic about the 
 beauty he saw around him. " As for the Beauties, 
 you could not look anywhere without seeing them ; 
 there were the Countess of Castlemaine, Lady 
 Chesterfield, Lady Shrewsbury, Mrs. Roberts, Mrs. 
 Middleton, the Miss Brookes, and a thousand others, 
 who shone at Court with equal lustre ; but it was 
 Miss Hamilton and Miss Stuart who were its chief 
 ornaments." Thus reported this ardent and general 
 lover, and it may have been because he saw so little 
 of Mrs. Middleton that he was induced to go in 
 search of her. 
 
 The young wife was then just seventeen, and a 
 little silly. It is curious that at that period men who 
 were in their prime or growing old treated girls
 
 112 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 in their teens as women of experience. Nowhere in 
 the Memoirs have we any idea that the woman who 
 talked sentimental nonsense and tried to pose as a wit 
 was a youthful creature who really had not learned the 
 meaning of wit or wisdom. Yet she was no innocent 
 girl ; even if she had been it would probably not 
 have interfered with the Frenchman's intentions. 
 He was not so much a lover as a lover of intrigue, and 
 St. Evremond, his noted friend, once gave him a 
 description of his own character which was most apt 
 and true. " Is it not a fact that as soon as a woman 
 pleases you your first care is to find out whether she 
 has any other lover, and your second how to plague 
 her ; for the gaining her affection is the last thing 
 in your thoughts ? You seldom engage in intrigue 
 but to disturb the happiness of others." 
 
 To such discourses as these the Chevalier listened 
 amusedly, while his thoughts were really engaged in 
 wondering to whom he could offer his love, and for 
 some idle reason he decided upon Mrs. Middleton. 
 She was one of the handsomest women in town, 
 and the fact that she was not then closely connected 
 with the everyday life of the popular monarch was 
 probably an added inducement, as de Gramont might 
 well be a little nervous of once more inflaming against 
 himself the wrath of a king. 
 
 Of Charles Middleton we hear little, his coquettish 
 wife being content to let him occupy the background 
 while she discoursed of poetry, Plato, and sentiment 
 to the fine gallants who came to pay her homage ; 
 feeling happy in her magnificent dresses and always 
 anxious to vie with those who possessed the greatest 
 fortunes.
 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON 113 
 
 As a preliminary step to the gaining of her favour, 
 Gramont made friends with a Mr. Jones, afterwards 
 the one and only Earl of Ranelagh, who had been 
 wildly in love with Mrs. Middleton. He, finding that 
 the valuable presents which either the lady expected 
 or he thought fit to give were becoming too serious 
 a drain on his expenses, was glad to welcome help 
 in throwing off his responsibility. Mr. Jones might 
 easily have terminated his intrigue without resorting 
 to any finesse, but he had another rival whom he 
 hated, and he preferred to go on bearing the burden 
 to calmly giving way to a man not of his choosing. 
 Thus he welcomed the Chevalier with both hands, 
 introduced him to Mrs. Middleton, and did all he 
 could to smooth the way. 
 
 De Gramont followed up his first meeting with 
 letters, presents, and visits ; he held long conversations 
 which bored him, ogled and was ogled in return, 
 but he got no further. Mrs. Middleton was ravished 
 with his presents, all of which she took, though, as 
 she gave nothing but sweet smiles in return, the 
 Chevalier grew tired of the pursuit. Of her character 
 and appearance he says : " She was fair, well made and 
 delicate, in manner somewhat precise and affected, 
 giving herself indolent, languishing airs, and extremely 
 anxious to pass as a wit. She wearied by trying to 
 explain sentiments which she did not understand, and 
 she bored while trying to entertain." 
 
 It is not astonishing that the w'ould-be lover 
 sought relief from her affectations in the society of 
 Miss Warmestre, maid of honour to the Queen, a girl 
 who was in many ways just the opposite to Mrs. 
 Middleton, with a brown complexion, sparkling eyes, 
 
 H
 
 114 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 and tempting looks. So perfumed gloves, pocket 
 looking-glasses, apricot paste, essences, and other 
 frivolities arrived every vv^eek from Paris, while more 
 valuable things, such as ear-rings, diamonds, and 
 golden guineas, were to be found in London, and 
 were passed on to one or the other of the two 
 ladies. 
 
 It was quite likely that the versatile Frenchman 
 would have entirely forgotten Mrs. Middleton had not 
 Mr. Jones notified him that a new rival had arisen 
 in the person of the Hon. Mr. Montagu, who was 
 much to be feared for his wit and his assiduity. 
 That was quite sufficient to awaken the dying ardour, 
 in which there was no love, for Gramont could only 
 think of how best to be avenged, and tried to find some 
 way which malice could suggest to torment both lady 
 and gallant. First he thought to return her letters 
 and demand his presents back as an introductory 
 measure, but feeling that that was too weak a course, 
 " he was upon the point of conspiring the destruction 
 of poor Mrs. Middleton " when there burst upon his 
 vision the beautiful Miss Hamilton. From that 
 moment Middleton, Warmestre, revenge all melted 
 from his mind as though they had never been ; no 
 longer was he inconstant, no longer did his glances 
 roam : " this object fixed them all." 
 
 It is said that Mrs. Middleton was kinder both 
 to Mr. Jones and to Mr. Montagu than she was to 
 Gramont ; and there was at one time much gossip 
 as to her receiving the attentions of the Duke of 
 York, who in a quieter way was more objectionable 
 in his love affairs than was the King. Pepys learned 
 that this was a mistake, and that the Duke did not
 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON 115 
 
 want her and could have plenty others, and so forth. 
 But that again was gossip, and in any case Mrs. 
 Middleton's portrait was included in the gallery of 
 Beauties painted by Leiy, for which the Duchess of 
 York paid the reckoning ! 
 
 Pepys alludes several times to this lady. In church 
 one day it pleased him most of all to see the fair 
 Mrs. Middleton, " who indeed is a very beautiful 
 lady." He always loved the favoured of the great, 
 and his admiration grew with the favour shown them. 
 Evelyn calls her an incomparable beauty, and adds 
 the information that in the art of painting (in oils) 
 she was rare. Waller, the poet, dangled after her, 
 writing her many letters, and the very youthful 
 William Russell, the young stepbrother of the two 
 Brooke girls, was said also to be her lover. 
 
 Some time in 1668 Mr. Middleton took a house in 
 Charles Street, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, which was 
 just then becoming a very fashionable locality, 
 and whence his lively wife made many conquests. 
 She is often mentioned in the letters addressed by the 
 French ambassador in London to one or other of his 
 chiefs in Paris ; for while Charles was the paid 
 dependent of Louis every incident of the English 
 Court was noted, and the information was sent either 
 direct to Louis or to him through one of his ministers. 
 One of these ambassadors (for they changed every 
 few years) was Honore Courtin, Seigneur de Chan- 
 teroine, who came to England in May, 1676, and was 
 greatly taken with Mrs. Middleton. In his letters to 
 France he mentioned her often. " If I were younger, 
 or less wise than I have become through your good 
 example, I could enjoy myself very well over here.
 
 ii6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Madame Mazarin and the Duchess of Sussex [daughter 
 o£ Charles and Barbara] came to dine with me to-day ; 
 I had near me Mrs. Middleton, who is the most 
 beautiful woman in the kingdom. I took them after 
 dinner to hear the French musicians, and then I walked 
 with them through St. James's Park at eleven o'clock, 
 where I met the poor ambassador from Portugal, who 
 is dying for the Duchess Mazarin." 
 
 Though Mrs. Middleton was very jealous of the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth and did all she could to belittle 
 her, she yet accepted her hospitality when expedient, 
 and Courtin mentions Louise giving a splendid dinner 
 to the French Embassy, to which Mrs. Middleton, 
 the Prince of Monaco, Sunderland, and " our people " 
 were invited. The King, who had dined with the 
 Queen, dropped in towards the end of the dinner, 
 and was pleased to say that he would not only dine 
 in the same place with the same company the next 
 Sunday, but would go without his supper the evening 
 before that his appetite might be good ! 
 
 Courtin could not mention Mrs. Middleton without 
 praising her. " She is of all Enghsh women the one 
 whom I have most pleasure in seeing, but she is 
 surrounded by watch -dogs." Again he wrote to 
 Louvois : " I am going to call on Mrs. Middleton, 
 whom I more than ever regard as the most beautiful 
 and amiable woman at Court. I would give her all 
 your money if she would listen to overtures from me, 
 but she once refused a purse containing fifteen 
 hundred jacobuses which M. de Gramont offered 
 her. Thus you need have no fear about the money." 
 Gramont leads us to suppose anything but that the 
 seductive dame would refuse a purseful of jacobuses,
 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON 117 
 
 and it is impossible not to wonder whether it was the 
 Chevalier or the lady who told the truth. 
 
 To this letter Louvois responded that he had so 
 often heard of the beauty of Mrs. Middleton from 
 Gramont that he was most anxious to have her 
 portrait, to which the lady replied that she was 
 extremely gratified and had the copy of a picture 
 sent him. She also carried her campaign against the 
 heart of Courtin so far that he was regretfully forced 
 to acknowledge that he was forty-nine and suffering 
 from the fogs of London. " If I were at your age 
 I do not believe that I could prevent myself from 
 becoming foolishly amorous. I have never seen a 
 woman in any foreign country who appears to me 
 so amiable. She is very beautiful, she has the most 
 distinguished air, it would be impossible to show more 
 spirit than she possesses, and yet she is modest and 
 true." Mrs. Middleton was at this time very popular 
 with all those attending the French Embassy, for 
 other writers remark upon it, Dorothy Sunderland 
 (Sacharissa) telling how one day she saw the 
 ambassadors bring a coach full of Frenchmen to Mrs. 
 Middleton's, and sent it back to fetch more. 
 
 It was Mrs. Middleton who helped to bring about 
 at least a truce between the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 and Duchess Mazarin, by inviting herself and a friend 
 to dinner with the ambassador, the friend being the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth, while Lady Harvey also 
 invited herself and took Hortense Mazarin. This 
 was a good act done in haste, for which Mrs. Middleton 
 repented at leisure, for when she acquired the am- 
 bition of elevating — or lowering — her young daughter, 
 then maid of honour to Mary Beatrice, to the rank of
 
 ii8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 King's mistress, she could not be spiteful enough 
 against Louise, Duchess of Portsmouth. 
 
 She seized the opportunity when Louise de 
 Keroualle was pretending to be desperately ill in order 
 to revive the King's affections, to introduce the girl, 
 who was sixteen or seventeen, to Charles's notice, 
 and she had even got so far as taking her to see the 
 King in his cabinet when news of this and of other 
 attempts by other ladies to fill her post brought 
 Louise quickly from her bed to fight her own battles 
 in a more straightforward way. She soon stopped the 
 little visits to the cabinet, and thereby earned the 
 undying hatred of Mrs. Middleton, who threw all her 
 influence on the side of Louise's rival, the Duchoss 
 Mazarin. This little skirmish became public property, 
 and in 1679 '^ poeni appeared with the title, " Cullam 
 with his Flock of Misses," which devoted flippant 
 couplets to the various ladies who were offering them- 
 selves as candidates for the Duchess of Portsmouth's 
 place, the second on the list being Mrs. Middleton. 
 The first was the Duchess of Richmond ; then came 
 various other names, the last but one being Lady 
 Cleveland, and the last Lady Katherine — probably 
 Lady Elizabeth* — Jones being the successful aspirant. 
 The rhyme about Jane Middleton runs : 
 
 " Next Middleton appear'd to view, 
 
 Who straight was told of M gue, 
 
 Of cates from Hyde, of clothes from France, 
 
   • • • • t 
 
 At which the Court set up a laughter, 
 She only pleads but for her daughter ; 
 
 * Lady Katherine Jones was married, while her sister Elizabeth 
 was then about the Court. 
 
 7 This line is lost, as it was said to be unrepeatable in the more 
 respectable age following that of the Stuarts.
 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON 119 
 
 A buxom lass, fit for the place, 
 Were not her father * in disgrace. 
 With these exceptions she's dismissed, 
 And Morland fair enters the list." 
 
 There is little doubt that the Hyde alluded to 
 was Laurence, brother to the Duchess o£ York, and 
 afterwards Lord Rochester. Of this friendship there 
 is mention made in one of the State Poems called 
 "The Rabble." 
 
 " Not for the nation, but the fair, 
 Our treasury provides ; 
 Bulkeley's f Godolphin's only care, 
 As Middleton is Hyde's." 
 
 Waller seems eventually to have given up at one 
 and the same time both his Sacharissa and Mrs. 
 Middleton, for Dorothea, Countess Dowager of 
 Sunderland, writes : " Mrs. Middleton and I have lost 
 old Waller ; he is gone away frightened." 
 
 Miss Berry says that Jane Middleton took, after a 
 youth of folly, to an old age of cards, but this 
 assertion seems to have been based on a little skit 
 written by St. Evremond, in which Mrs. Middleton, 
 Madame Mazarin, Mr. Villiers, and Mr. Bowcher are 
 represented as playing a game of basset. 
 
 Mr. Middleton was Secretary at the Prize Office, 
 a post worth only about four hundred a year ; yet 
 when he was said to be dying, in 1690, there were many 
 to covet that position, small as it was. Among them 
 was a member of Lady Anglesey's family, but that 
 lady, who did the begging, said she could not ask 
 for its reversion, as she was on such intimate terms 
 
 * Ralph Montagu was at this time in disgrace, and it was generally 
 believed that he was the girl's parent. 
 
 t Sophia Stuart Bulkeley, sister to the Duchess of Richmond.
 
 I20 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 with Mrs. Middleton, and feared to seem unkind. 
 She, however, begged Lady Russell to use her in- 
 fluence. Mr. Middleton died the following year. 
 His eldest daughter married Charles May, an equerry 
 to Queen Mary, and son or near relative to the 
 notorious Baptist May, who rivalled Chiffinch in the 
 attentions which he showed the King. Mrs. May 
 died at Twickenham, and was buried at Hampton. 
 Mrs. Middleton died some time in 1692 after a long 
 illness, " having preserved her wonderful beauty 
 to the last," and was buried at Lambeth. As she was 
 only about forty-seven, there is really nothing to be 
 surprised at in the fact that she was still good-looking. 
 Her picture can scarcely be deemed to do her justice, 
 for it does not seem to display any extraordinary 
 beauty. There is, however, all evidence that Lely, in 
 his hurry and self-satisfaction, thought more of his 
 painting than of the individual who was sitting to 
 him. " Good, but not like," was one of Pepys' 
 criticisms upon his maids-of -honour portraits, and it 
 is only necessary to hear the comments of those who 
 see the pictures in the Court to comprehend the effect 
 they make. " They are all alike ! " is the general cry. 
 That may seem so at first, and yet to one who knows 
 them well they are all different, with a difference which 
 is slurred over by the mannerisms of the painter, 
 who, in answer to a friend's query, once affirmed that 
 he knew he was no painter, but he also knew that he 
 was the best that England had. This portrait was 
 painted in 1663, when Jane was in her eighteenth 
 year, and knowing her silliness, we need not be sur- 
 prised at her somewhat vacuous expression. 
 
 Both St. Evremond and Charles de St. Denis
 
 MRS. JANE MIDDLETON 121 
 
 wrote verses upon Jane Middleton's death and grave, 
 the latter saying that she had virtues for faithful 
 friends, charms for lovers, was ill without anxiety, 
 and resolved to die without trouble or effort. 
 
 Jane's youngest sister, Eleanor, born in 1650, was 
 also a Beauty, and for years held the position of 
 mistress to the Duke of Monmouth, giving him four 
 children, who all took the name of Crofts. She had 
 a house among the nobility in Great Russell Street, 
 Bloomsbury, and was there in 1683, but a few months 
 later Lady Wentworth, with her youth, beauty, and 
 passionate love, had supplanted her with Monmouth. 
 Eleanor later married a private gentleman.
 
 CHAPTER VI _ 
 MARY, COUNTESS OF FALMOUTH 
 
 " Leiy on animated canvas stole 
 The sleepy eye that spoke the melting soul." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Among the pictures by Lely at Hampton Court are 
 two which for many years bore wrong names, but which 
 have since been identified. One, a portrait of a 
 beautiful young woman with dark, sHghtly arched 
 brows, is Mary, the Countess of Falmouth, the only 
 daughter who lived to maturity of Colonel Harvey 
 Bagot, of Pipe Hayes, Aston, in Warwickshire. 
 Colonel Bagot's first wife bore him a son and daughter, 
 Arden and Mary ; his second wife one daughter, 
 named Elizabeth, who died as an infant. This is 
 mentioned because there has been some confusion 
 between these two girls, the picture in Hampton 
 Court being generally written of as representing 
 Elizabeth, Countess Falmouth. 
 
 Mary Bagot was born in 1645, and in September, 
 1660, was appointed one of the four maids of honour 
 to Anne, Duchess of York, the only one of them, 
 according to Gramont, who was really possessed of 
 virtue and beauty. " She had beautiful and regular 
 features, and that sort of brown complexion which, 
 when in perfection, is so particularly fascinating, 
 and more especially in England, where it is uncommon. 
 
 122
 
 Mary Bagot, Countess of Falmouth 
 
 [to face page V22
 
 MARY, COUNTESS OF FALMOUTH 123 
 
 There was an involuntary blush almost continually 
 upon her cheek, without having anything to blush 
 for." 
 
 There is curiously little to say about the girl's life, 
 her quiet disposition preventing notoriety ; but she 
 became attracted by Charles Berkeley, whose name 
 has already appeared in these pages in connection with 
 a dishonourable act. It may have been that the bond 
 which drew them together was their devotion to the 
 Stuart cause, for both came of ardent Royalist families. 
 Charles Berkeley had fought with James in the Spanish 
 campaigns, and was loved as much by Charles as by 
 his brother. It was he who, under the guise of 
 loyalty, so lightly and cruelly defamed Anne Hyde, 
 by falsely declaring that he himself had been her lover, 
 in order to prevent James from owning the marriage 
 contract between himself and Anne. Later, when he 
 found his evil intention to be of no avail, Berkeley 
 as lightly owned that his confession had been all a lie. 
 Anne forgave him for this disgraceful deed, but her 
 father always hated him, calling him " a fellow of great 
 wickedness." 
 
 In courage lay Berkeley's real virtue — all who wrote 
 of him are agreed upon that point — and Sir W. 
 Coventry spoke of his good nature, generosity, and 
 desire for public good, as well as of his " low thoughts 
 of his own wisdom." That he was deeply loved by 
 King Charles is quite evident, and there can be little 
 doubt that the services he rendered his sovereign were 
 often such as no self-respecting man would perform. 
 Burnet says of him that he was without any visible 
 merit, unless it was that of the managing the King's 
 amours ; that he was as much in the favour of the
 
 124 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Duke as of the King, was generous in his expenses, 
 and that if he had outlived the lewdness of that time 
 and come to a more sedate course of life he might have 
 put the King on great and noble designs. Gramont, 
 however, gives him nothing but praise, but then, 
 Berkeley had flattered the Frenchman's vanity by 
 humbly adoring the lady whom the Chevalier coolly 
 determined to marry in face of all odds. Of him 
 Gramont says : " Never did disinterestedness so 
 perfectly characterize the greatness of the soul : 
 he had no views but what tended to the glory of his 
 master ; his credit was never employed but in advising 
 him to reward services, or to confer favours on merit : 
 so polished in conversation, that the greater his power, 
 the greater was his humihty ; and so sincere in all 
 his proceedings that he would never have been taken 
 for a courtier." 
 
 Gramont also owed to Berkeley the offer of a pension 
 of fifteen hundred jacobuses, made with the kindly 
 words, " You must not be obliged to me. I come 
 from the King's coucher^ where all the discourse was 
 about you ; and I can assure you that the manner in 
 which the King spoke of you could not afford you 
 so much pleasure as I myself felt upon the occasion." 
 When the Frenchman refused this kindness, which he 
 did not think it proper to accept, Berkeley took some 
 trouble to acquaint the French ambassador with what 
 had passed, that the account might soften the resent- 
 ment which Gramont's sovereign still showed towards 
 him. It is probable that, when Berkeley wished, he 
 had that perfection of manner which makes a person 
 irresistible, though there were times when Pepys was 
 justified not only in praising him for his wit, but for
 
 MARY, COUNTESS OF FALMOUTH 125 
 
 saying that he was of no good nature, and not a man 
 " ordinarily to be dealt with." 
 
 It was not long after the Restoration that Sir 
 Charles Berkeley was raised to the peerage as Earl 
 of Falmouth. 
 
 Elizabeth Hamilton, who, though tinged in manner 
 by the loose ways of the Court, always bore a reputation 
 beyond reproach, was probably quite the most 
 attractive person at the various festivals, and it was 
 the correct thing for every man to fall in love with 
 her. Lord Falmouth was no exception ; he, however, 
 felt that he had no chance whatever with the courted 
 beauty, and very sensibly looked around for another 
 mate. Thus it was not long before he regarded Mary 
 Bagot with the eyes of a lover, and though she had no 
 fortune he made her Countess of Falmouth in 1664, 
 the Queen appointing her a lady of the Bedchamber 
 on her marriage. 
 
 Another maid of honour, Miss Hobart, had at first 
 formed a great attachment for Mary Bagot, who did 
 not return the tenderness, so there is probably a 
 certain amount of spite in the following description 
 given by Miss Hobart to the girl who filled the place 
 left vacant by Mary. " Lady Falmouth is the only 
 instance of a maid of honour well married without 
 a portion ; and if you were to ask her poor, weak 
 husband for what reason he married her, I am per- 
 suaded that he can assign none, unless it be her great 
 red ears and broad feet." Such an assertion must have 
 been inspired either by jealousy or by a natural delight 
 in malicious gossip ; and yet such ill-natured speeches 
 may have been the fashion of the day, for this was a 
 time in which not only jealous women but able men
 
 126 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 uttered or wrote the most horrible libels upon all 
 who in any way tempted their satire. 
 
 Of the married life of Lord and Lady Falmouth 
 little is known ; it should have been happy, as the 
 match was disinterested ; but it was of very short 
 duration. Early in 1665 Charles Berkeley arranged 
 to go with the Duke of York to serve in the first 
 Dutch war. Why he went is differently accounted 
 for ; his loyalty and affection for the Duke, his love 
 of action, or a desire for advancement are among the 
 motives given as animating him. 
 
 At the battle of Southwold Bay, on the 3rd of 
 June, 1665, ^^ stood near the Duke on the deck of 
 the Royal Charles, and with him were Lord Muskerry 
 and Richard Boyle ; a cannon shot killed the three, 
 but left James unhurt. It is said that their blood and 
 brains bespattered the Duke, while Boyle's head 
 struck him down. This event Sir John Denham 
 described in satirical vein and somewhat weak lines in 
 his " Poem on State Affairs " : 
 
 " Falmouth was there, I know not what to act ; 
 Some say 'twas to grow Duke too by contract ; 
 An untaught bullet, in its wanton scope. 
 Dashes him all to pieces, and his hope. 
 Such was his rise, such was his fall, unpraised ; 
 A chance-shot sooner took him than chance raised : 
 His shattered head the fearless Duke distains. 
 And gave the last first proof that he had brains." 
 
 We may suppose that this event distressed Lady 
 Falmouth, but she was not one of the obtrusive 
 Beauties of her day, and she seems to have lived her 
 life without drawing much public attention to it. 
 The King, however, is recorded as being terribly 
 troubled. Clarendon says : " No sorrow was equal —
 
 MARY, COUNTESS OF FAL?^IOUTH 127 
 
 at least no sorrow so remarkable, as the King's was 
 for the Earl o£ Falmouth. They who knew His 
 Majesty best, and had seen how unshaken he had stood 
 in other very terrible assaults, were amazed at the 
 floods of tears he shed upon this occasion." Pepys 
 also reports that Charles was much troubled at the 
 death of Falmouth ; but he adds that he had met no 
 other man who wished him to be alive again, for the 
 world conceived him to be a man of too much pleasure 
 to do the King any good, or oifer any good office to 
 him. Pepys rarely said ill of a person without temper- 
 ing his hardness with mercy, so he adds : " But I hear 
 of all hands he is confessed to be a man of great honour, 
 that did show it in this, his going with the Duke, the 
 most that ever any man did." 
 
 There were many conflicting stories about the 
 poverty of the Falmouths. James once declared 
 that, though not extravagant. Lord Falmouth died 
 not worth a farthing. But in his will — dated April 
 21, 1665 — Lord Falmouth bequeathed his landed 
 estates to his father and his heirs male ; £8000 
 to his expected child (who, if a boy, would have 
 stood in the place of heir) ; ;^2000 to his brother. Sir 
 William ; ;^iooo to his sister Jane, and his house at 
 Ridlington, in Rutlandshire, with the residue of his 
 personality to his wife. 
 
 In 1673, when the King was seeking for an estate 
 with which to endow his son, Henry Fitzroy, on his 
 betrothal to Isabella Bennet, he bought of Lady 
 Falmouth Grafton Park, or, to put it in the words of 
 the chronicler, a sum of ^^i 1,289 "^^'^^ given "to the 
 Countess of Falmouth without account, in considera- 
 tion of the surrender of Grafton Park, etc." There
 
 128 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 exists, however, a vague hint that this transaction 
 was one o£ the disgraceful and hidden things of 
 Charles's life, that the Park belonged, in fact, to the 
 Queen, but was bestowed temporarily by the King upon 
 some favourite, for though it was eventually given to 
 Arlington and Henry Fitzroy, it could not be settled 
 upon them until " after Her Majesty's death." 
 
 Lady Falmouth's child, a girl also named Mary, was 
 born later in the year, and in her fresh youth was 
 married with pomp at Westminster Abbey. 
 
 A year after her husband's death Lady Falmouth 
 was the subject of Pepys' pen, he calling her a pretty 
 woman, and explaining that she was now in the second 
 or third stage of her mourning for her husband, 
 repeating that she was pretty pleasant in her looks. 
 
 Like all the other women of the Court, Lady 
 Falmouth seems to have flirted considerably with 
 the little wretch Henry Jermyn, so much so that the 
 report was all abroad that a marriage was arranged 
 between them, a report that was sufficient to upset the 
 whole of Charles's household. For Lady Castlemaine 
 was much in love with Jermyn, and in a terrible rage 
 at the idea of his marriage, while the King was jealous 
 of Jermyn in relation to Barbara ; and when these 
 two great people were out of temper the whole Court 
 suffered. However, the report was wrong ; Lady 
 Falmouth remained a widow for thirteen or fourteen 
 years. What her life was during that period is only 
 discoverable from stray hints. Her name was men- 
 tioned in connection with the Duke of York when he 
 was a widower, for James had intimated that he 
 wished to wed a Catholic and one with whom he 
 could enjoy all the happiness of domestic life. It is
 
 MARY, COUNTESS OF FALMOUTH 129 
 
 said that all the belles of the Court bedizened them- 
 selves in their precious stones and other finery, and 
 among them, desirous of making a conquest of the 
 Duke, was Lady Falmouth. " But," said the French 
 ambassador in writing to Louis of France, " I doubt 
 whether this Prince's passion for her is so great as to 
 lead him to marry her. He would rather take a 
 French princess, to whom His Majesty might give 
 a dowry." 
 
 There is also more than one allusion to large sums 
 of money given by King Charles to Lady Falmouth. 
 Monsieur Forneron, who gained his information from 
 French State papers — that is to say, from information 
 sent by French emissaries in London to Louis — tells 
 us that Charles paid her in one way and another 
 immense sums. While another authority mentions 
 that she received ;£8ooo in a few months. There is 
 no reason given for these payments, though certain 
 inferences must be drawn from the way in which the 
 statement fits into its context. Lady Falmouth may 
 have been one of the most virtuous of women, or 
 she may have lived as most of the women about the 
 Court of Charles H seem to have lived. Dryden 
 and Mulgrave, in their "Essay on Satire," are, however, 
 slashing in their condemnation of her, but they were 
 caricaturists as well as satirists, and were inclined to 
 magnify all the faults while they minimized every 
 virtue possessed by their victims, showing that even 
 their virtues leaned to failing's side. 
 
 At the end of 1678 Lady Falmouth became the 
 wife of a man who had been a greater rake than her 
 first husband, but who was then settling down to that 
 quiet delight in literature and literary society which
 
 130 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 has caused his name to be remembered — Charles 
 Sackville, Earl of Dorset. It was a second marriage 
 which did not last a year, for Lady Dorset died in 
 September, 1679, in giving birth to a child which was 
 buried with her at Withyam, in Sussex. For curiosity's 
 sake, the much-quoted passage from the " Essay on 
 Satire " is appended : 
 
 " Thus Dorset purring like a thoughtful cat, 
 Married ; but wiser puss ne'er thought of that : 
 And first he worried her with railing rhyme, 
 Like Pembroke's mastiffs at his kindest time ; 
 Then for one night sold all his slavish life, 
 A teeming widow,"* but a barren wife ; 
 Swell'd by contact of such a fulsome toad, 
 He lugg'd about the matrimonial load ; 
 Till fortune, kindly blind as well as he, 
 Has ill restored him to his liberty, 
 Which he would use in his old sneaking way, 
 Drinking all night and dosing all the day ; 
 Dull as Ned Howard, whom his brisker times 
 Had famed for dulness in malicious rhymes." 
 
 * Compare the second of Pope's "Moral P'ssays." "A teeming 
 mistress, but a barren bride," in the " Essay on Woman."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON, COUNTESS GRAMONT 
 
 " Lely painted them, and employed all his skill in the performance ; 
 nor could he ever exert himself upon more beautiful subjects. Every 
 j)icture a])peared a master-piece ; and that of Miss Hamilton appeared 
 the highest finished. Lely himself acknowledged that he had drawn 
 it with a particular pleasure. The Duke of York took a delight in 
 looking at it, and began again to ogle the original : he had very little 
 reason to hope for success ; and at the same time his hopeless passion 
 alarmed the Chevalier de Gramont." — Memoirs of Count Gramont. 
 
 When Charles II returned to his own land, there 
 came over from Paris and other towns in France 
 a number of those who had spent years of their lives 
 abroad waiting for some turn in the tide which would 
 allow them to come back to England. Among these 
 were Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of the Earl 
 of Abercorn, with his wife, who was sister to the 
 Earl of Ormond, and a large family of sons and 
 daughters who had been living for some years at the 
 Feullatines, in the Fauxbourg St. Jacques, Paris. 
 Elizabeth, the eldest girl, was then nineteen years old, 
 and it might with far more justice have been said 
 about her at her first appearance at Court, than about 
 little Frances Stuart, that she was at the height of 
 her beauty ; she certainly made an extraordinary im- 
 pression upon the hearts of the men. Before she left 
 France Sir John Reresby had met and been greatly 
 attracted by her, and he wrote in his journal that he 
 
 131
 
 132 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 liked her so well that after her return to England 
 " I had probably married her, had not my friends 
 strongly opposed it, she being a papist, and her fortune 
 not being great at present." But the fact was that 
 Sir John was not a constant lover, for between seeing 
 Miss Hamilton in France and meeting her again in 
 England he had met a certain Mistress Brown, who 
 made him forget every one else. 
 
 The Hamiltons did not arrive in England until 
 early in 1661, and as Elizabeth married towards the 
 end of 1663, she had in all not quite three years of 
 gaiety at the English Court. Her position there was 
 better than that of the maids of honour, for she 
 had no official post, though she was expected to take 
 part in all the revels and dances and other festivities 
 which were arranged. 
 
 It seems as though every unmarried man of note 
 proposed to La Belle Hamilton, by which title she 
 soon came to be known. The Duke of Richmond, 
 seeking a second wife, was very much in love with 
 her, and yet, like the friends of Sir John Reresby, 
 was somewhat held back by that grievous lack of 
 fortune with which the lady was afflicted. Henry 
 Jermyn, so often mentioned already, was also a wooer. 
 Then there was Henry Howard, later Duke of Norfolk, 
 who was followed by Richard Talbot, afterwards 
 Earl of Tyrconnel and husband of the lively Frances 
 Jennings. The two Russells, uncle and nephew, 
 were also applicants for her hand. But one of her 
 earliest English admirers was James, Duke of York, 
 who was of too licentious a character to make an 
 elegant adorer of a pretty, sensible girl. Lastly 
 came the Chevalier de Gramont, who appeared at the
 
 Elizabeth Hamilton, Countess of C.ramont 
 iAfter Lely) 
 
 [ lO FACE I'AGE U2
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 133 
 
 English Court towards the end of the year 1662. 
 He saw Miss Hamilton occasionally, but until the 
 night of the ball at which he intended to be revenged 
 upon Mrs. Middleton, he had had no close view of 
 her, and then, though he was quite forty years of age, 
 he fell headlong in love, and, if he may be believed, 
 was for a year constant to the object of his adoration, — 
 his first and last taste of the sweets of constancy. 
 
 The description of La Belle Hamilton, which is 
 to be found in the Memoirs of the Count de Gramont, 
 written by the hand of her brother, Anthony Hamilton, 
 when the debonair Chevalier was an old man, is well 
 worth repeating. " She had the finest shape, the 
 loveliest neck, and the most beautiful arms in the 
 world ; she was majestic and graceful in all her move- 
 ments ; and she was the original after which all the 
 ladies copied in their taste and air of dress. Her fore- 
 head was open, white, and smooth ; her hair was well 
 set, and fell with ease into that natural order which it 
 is so difficult to imitate ; her complexion was possessed 
 of a certain freshness, not to be equalled by borrowed 
 colours ; her eyes were not large, but they were 
 lively, and capable of expressing whatever she pleased ; 
 her mouth was full of graces, and her contour un- 
 commonly perfect : nor was her nose, which was small, 
 delicate, and turned up, the least ornament of so 
 lovely a face. In fine, her air, her carriage, and the 
 numberless graces dispersed over her whole person, 
 made the Chevaher de Gramont not doubt but that 
 she was possessed of every other qualification." 
 
 She is further represented as neither endeavouring 
 after wit nor affecting solemnity, as being reserved, 
 just, and having an admirable discernment, noble in
 
 134 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 sentiment and modest. Gramont set himself with all 
 the art he possessed to engage her attention, but was 
 embarrassed to find that presents were of no use ; 
 and his man Termes, whom he had been sending 
 periodically to Paris to get the little frivolities for 
 Mrs. Middleton and Aiiss Warmestre, more or less 
 lost his occupation. In spite of the many admirers 
 hovering round Miss Hamilton, the Chevalier felt 
 no jealousy or anxiety, knowing not only the characters 
 of his rivals, but the tastes of the fair lady. 
 
 The Duke of York seems to have been but a heavy, 
 uninteresting lover, and really made a mistake in 
 seeking her kindness, for she w^as not the sort of girl 
 to suit him in any way. He dared not say what was 
 in his mind, and he had nothing else to say ; so after 
 hunting or amusing himself all the morning, he 
 would lounge about in the afternoon, talk to her 
 as often as he could think of some subject for 
 conversation, and ogle her with great assiduity. 
 Elizabeth listened to his stories of fox and horse, 
 to the accounts of broken legs and arms and other 
 adventures ; she could not rudely run away from the 
 Royal bore, but she could hardly be sorry when the 
 fresh air and exercise weighted his lids in sleep and put 
 an end to the silly, soft glances which he lavished 
 upon her. The Duchess of York watched the little 
 comedy with equanimity, probably wishing that James 
 would always fall in love with so safe a subject, and 
 she treated Elizabeth with affection and esteem. 
 
 Miss Hamilton had one failing, at least, to-day 
 we should consider it in the light of a failing, though 
 in the middle of the seventeenth century it seems 
 to have been regarded as a virtue. She was fond of
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 135 
 
 playing practical jokes of a somewhat unkind nature, 
 but it is evident that the whole Court was intensely 
 amused by them. There was a certain fancy-dress 
 ball given by the Queen at a time when she was doing 
 her utmost to please the King by her compliance and 
 gaiety, and at this ball the young lady managed 
 thoroughly to divert the Court, and just as thoroughly 
 to annoy a few unimportant people. De Gramont 
 himself too tells a story about his own dress for 
 the occasion which is well worth incorporating in 
 the account of the ball. 
 
 One of Anne's maids of honour was a girl named 
 Blague, who was remarkable for the insipidity of her 
 appearance. Her complexion was the same all over, 
 her hair was very light, and she possessed two little 
 hollow eyes with white eyelashes " as long as a finger " ; 
 indeed, the malicious Gramont would make the poor 
 girl appear as foolish as she was colourless, though 
 there is nothing but his description to foster the idea. 
 
 Another woman who often came to Court was Lady 
 Muskerry, a cousin of Elizabeth Hamilton's, whose 
 unfortunate appearance should have been enough to 
 save her from ridicule, and, indeed, might have done 
 so if she had shown a sense of fitness, and had not 
 always been ready to do absurd things. Lady Muskerry 
 was ugly in figure, being stout, and plain in countenance, 
 while of two short legs one w^as considerably shorter 
 than the other. As she was very rich she had, in 
 spite of these disadvantages, easily found a husband, 
 and might have been happy enough but for her love 
 of dress and dancing. Dress with her did not mean 
 good taste, but a riot of colour and jewels, so that 
 every one expected to be amused by her appearance
 
 136 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 alone. Thus it was that on occasions of dignity 
 her name was liable to be intentionally left out when 
 invitations were issued. 
 
 Queen Catherine took much thought about this 
 ball or masquerade ; she definitely named those 
 who were to dance, commanding each to represent a 
 nation by dress, and she made these arrangements 
 in time to allow of the most elaborate preparations. 
 Lady Muskerry was not invited to dance, and when 
 she fussed at not getting a full invitation, her husband, 
 who was a sensitive, serious man, much less distressed 
 by his wife's homeliness of appearance than by the 
 ridiculous figure she made when decked out for a 
 party, gave her a little homily, begging her to be 
 content with being a spectator at this entertainment, 
 and pointing out as gently as he could that she was 
 not of the appearance to look well in such circum- 
 stances ; and he ended by expressly forbidding her 
 to try to get a place in the dance. When he had gone 
 out the silly little woman fretted and fumed over 
 the matter, persuading herself that her husband had 
 influenced the Queen to refrain from inviting her, 
 and even considering whether she would not throw 
 herself at Catherine's feet and demand justice. 
 In the midst of this turmoil a messenger brought an 
 invitation, at which she was so overjoyed that she 
 kissed it three times, then ordered her coach to find 
 out how a Princess of Babylon dressed, for such was the 
 character assigned her. One wonders if she ever knew 
 that this card had been forged by Miss Hamilton in 
 order to divert herself and those in the secret with the 
 result. 
 
 It is well that we do not always see ourselves as
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 137 
 
 others see us, though at times we might be saved some 
 sorrow if we had some idea as to popular opinion 
 about us. Fortunately or unfortunately for the 
 colourless Miss Blague, she was quite content with 
 her own appearance, and was ready to accept any 
 flattery that might be offered her. She therefore 
 believed that a Frenchman at the Court, the Marquis 
 de Brisacier, was desperately in love with her, and 
 though she scarcely understood a word of French, 
 she regarded him as her cavalier. In return for this 
 attention he wrote nice little sonnets in praise of fair 
 women, and her foolish, self-conscious airs when 
 listening to these prompted the wicked spirits of the 
 party to make a jest of her. 
 
 Elizabeth had several pairs of gloves of a certain 
 make, called the Martial, after the name of the 
 manufacturer ; so she enclosed a pair of these with 
 four yards of the palest yellow ribbon she could find 
 in a note to Miss Blague, which ran as follows : 
 
 " You were the other day more charming than all 
 the fair women in the world ; you looked yesterday 
 still more fair than you did the day before ; if you 
 go on, what will become of my heart ? But that 
 has for a long time been subjugated by your pretty 
 little yeux marcassins* Shall you be at the masquerade 
 to-morrow ? Can there be any charms at an enter- 
 tainment at which you are not present ? I shall 
 know you in whatever disguise you may be ; but I 
 shall know my fate better by the present I send you ; 
 you will wear knots of this ribbon in your hair, and 
 
 * Marcassin is French for wild boar, the eyes of which are small 
 and lively ; therefore the phrase was akin to " pig's eyes," though it 
 meant, in addition, roguish.
 
 138 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 these gloves will kiss the most beautiful hands in the 
 world." 
 
 This billet was sent to Miss Blague, who was, of 
 course, confident that it had come from none but 
 Brisacier, and she was accordingly very happy. 
 
 The third person who was destined to suffer at 
 the ball as the victim of a joke — though not of Miss 
 Hamilton's making — was the Chevalier himself, who 
 had so gratefully fallen in with the King's desire 
 that he should be La Belle's partner that he had prom- 
 ised his Royal host to use all the good offices in 
 his power with Miss Stuart to smile upon the King. 
 He chose to represent his native country at the dance, 
 and to this end sent his man to Paris for the most 
 splendid suit he could procure. 
 
 Poor Lady Muskerry called upon her young cousin 
 to gush about her delight in being invited to the ball, 
 and to reflect upon the perfidy of man, and of her 
 husband in particular, who, before their marriage, 
 was ready to pass whole days and nights in seeing her 
 dance, and now forbade her to dance at all. She 
 grumbled at the difficulty of finding out how the 
 Babylonian women dressed, and wondered she had 
 not been told who was to be her partner, until the 
 malicious girl pealed with laughter. Lady Muskerry 
 had scarcely left when her husband entered, begging 
 to know if there were any private ball being given 
 on the next day, adding, " I am told my wife is 
 making great preparations for a ball dress, and as I 
 know she is not to be at the masquerade, I wonder 
 where she is going. I don't mind much if it is only a 
 private party." 
 
 Of course he got no information, and he had not
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 139 
 
 been gone long when Miss Price, a maid of honour 
 to the Duchess and a determined rival to poor Miss 
 Blague, entered for a gossip. She was as dark as the 
 other girl was fair, and the sight of her at once sug- 
 gested an addition to the little plot. Elizabeth gave 
 her a pair of Martial gloves and some knots of the 
 yellow ribbon, which delighted her, and she said she 
 should wear both at the ball. 
 
 " Do ! " repHed Miss Hamilton ; " but you need not 
 say that I gave you such a trifle. And, you naughty 
 flirt, mind you do not try to rob Miss Blague of her 
 admirer, the Marquis, as you have already taken 
 away her last young man. You are so lively and can 
 speak French so well that it would be easy enough." 
 The evening came, the great hall was filled with 
 guests, and the masquers were all there but one ; 
 for a while they waited, and then in came the Chevalier 
 de Gramont, wearing the largest and best powdered 
 peruke imaginable, and the finest point lace, but 
 otherwise dressed in ordinary Court clothes. 
 
 " Why, Chevaher," called the King, " has not 
 Termes arrived ? " 
 
 " Sire, pardon me, but there is a history to my 
 dress." 
 
 The dancers gathered round him, all anxious to hear 
 what it could be ; and Gramont proceeded to tell 
 them how he had waited and waited for the man 
 who ought to have returned two days earlier ; that 
 he had only arrived an hour previously, splashed 
 all over from head to foot, booted up to the waist, and 
 looking as if he had been excommunicated. Termes 
 explained that he had had the finest suit in the world 
 made which the Duke dc Guise himself had ordered,
 
 HO FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 and upon which he had employed a dozen embroiderers 
 working night and day. He had packed it so that 
 a deluge could not have damped it, and then, alas ! 
 he had lost it when within half a league of Calais. 
 He had gone down to the shore that he might take 
 ship more quickly, and had sunk into a quicksand. 
 
 " ' The devil take me if they saw anything but the 
 top of my head when they pulled me out. As for 
 my horse, fifteen men could scarce get him out ; 
 but the portmanteau, in which were your clothes, 
 could never be found ; it must be at least a league 
 underground.' 
 
 " I should certainly have killed him, but I was afraid 
 of keeping Miss Hamilton waiting, and I was anxious 
 to tell your Majesty at once about the quicksand 
 that your couriers may avoid it," concluded the 
 Chevalier. 
 
 Every one laughed, and began to think of dancing, 
 but as they were forming Gramont remembered 
 something else he had to say, and declared that his 
 ill-humour had been increased at the door of the 
 Palace by the devil of a phantom in masquerade who 
 stopped him, saying that the Queen had commanded 
 him to be her partner for the evening ; and that 
 when he excused himself she had charged him to 
 find out who was her partner, and send him to her 
 immediately ; and he concluded with, " But it is 
 worth while to see her dress, for she must have at 
 least sixty ells of gauze and silver tissue about her, 
 not to mention a sort of a pyramid upon her head, 
 adorned with a hundred thousand baubles." 
 
 Every one wondered who it could be, excepting 
 those who knew only too well ; the Queen looked
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 141 
 
 round and said all her dancers were present, and the 
 King declared it must be the Duchess of Newcastle, 
 an eccentric lady of great literary ability. 
 
 " And I," whispered Lord Muskerry to Miss 
 Hamilton, " will bet it is another fool ; for I am very 
 much mistaken if it is not my wife." 
 
 The King wanted the lady brought in for inspection, 
 and poor Muskerry hurriedly offered to be his am- 
 bassador, much to the relief of Elizabeth Hamilton, 
 who was beginning to fear that her jest would land 
 her in disgrace if the Princess of Babylon had entered 
 in all her glory. It is needless to say that Lady 
 Muskerry did not appear ; she was hurried home by 
 her hard-hearted husband much against her will, 
 and a sentry placed before her chamber door to prevent 
 her from going out again that night. 
 
 As the evening passed every one had time to wonder 
 why Miss Blague had dressed so unbecomingly ; her 
 hair seemed stuffed with the citron-covered ribbon, 
 she looked yellower than ever, and was constantly 
 fluttering her gloved hands up to her head as though 
 for a sign to some one. In her turn she wondered 
 with a sinking heart why Miss Price wore the same 
 adornments, and soon she became jealous, for that 
 young lady was doing her best to fascinate the gallant 
 Marquis, who was in no way loath to be amused. 
 When the dances changed from the more stately 
 ones of the Court to the quick measure of the country 
 jig, the Duke of Buckingham, who wished to ensure 
 the Frenchman an amusing evening, gave him a 
 message from the King desiring him to join in the 
 dance with Miss Blague, but he considered a country 
 dance below his dignity and begged to be excused.
 
 142 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 The poor girl thought he was refusing to dance with 
 her, and her distress was complete ; and we are told 
 that the pleasure of Miss Hamilton and her friends 
 was at its height on seeing her discomfiture. 
 
 The Marquis never returned to his flirtation with 
 Miss Blague, for she had inquired the meaning of 
 marcassin, and being told it meant "pig's eyes," was 
 furious with him. She eventually married Sir Thomas 
 Yarborough, a man as fair as herself. 
 
 The suit of clothes that was at least a league 
 underground, the Chevalier was destined to see just 
 once. It was when he journeyed to the Court of 
 France, drawn by a mistaken assurance that he would 
 again be welcomed there. Passing through Abbeville, 
 he stopped at the Post Hotel for food, and in the 
 kitchen found a dozen spits laden with game before 
 the fire. Termes was so delighted that he secretly 
 had some shoes taken off the horses, to assure himself 
 not only of a long rest, but of a good feed at the inn, 
 a trick which was to bring him into disgrace. The 
 innkeeper told them that one of the most wealthy 
 men in the neighbourhood was going to be married 
 that morning to one of the most beautiful girls, and 
 begged the travellers to stay and see them. When the 
 wedding party came from church Gramont looked 
 with interest at the bride. Alas ! she might have 
 been handsome, but four dozen patches scattered 
 about her face and ten ringlets of hair on either 
 side completely hid her from sight. The bridegroom 
 was dressed gaudily save for his coat, which was of 
 the greatest magnificence, and designed in the most 
 exquisite taste. Gramont walked up to him and 
 began to praise the embroidery, and the complimented
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 143 
 
 man explained that he had bought it for one hundred 
 and fifty louis of a London merchant, and that he 
 had sat up all night with him at Calais trying to beat 
 down the price. 
 
 The Chevalier was persuaded to sit down to the 
 feast with the bridal party, and in a little w^hile he 
 sent for his man. As soon as Termes entered the 
 bridegroom rose from the table and offered his hand, 
 saying, " Welcome, my friend ; you see I have taken 
 good care of the coat, and have kept it for a good 
 purpose." Termes at first pretended not to know 
 him, but had to sit down at his master's order, and 
 later with ineffable impudence he managed to escape 
 punishment. 
 
 After the great ball Gramont's attraction for Miss 
 Hamilton increased until it filled his life ; he talked 
 of it openly, and was with her at every opportunity, 
 yet every one regarded it solely as gallantry, for 
 none thought it conceivable that such a noted lover 
 could at last be in earnest. His friend, St. Evremond, 
 was the only man who saw through the appearance 
 to the reality, and took the liberty of remonstrating 
 with him, saying that if he were in the possession 
 of the title and estate of his family it might be ex- 
 cusable for him to offer himself, but as he only en- 
 joyed a very moderate fortune he was behaving very 
 improperly in paying his addresses to Miss Hamilton. 
 There was the Duke of Richmond, he said, who was 
 too mercenary to deserve her, but the King had 
 offered to dower her, an offer which La Belle Hamilton 
 had refused, as she had no mind for a lover who 
 bargained as though he were buying something. 
 And he then went through the list of rich and titled
 
 144 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 men who were, or had been, her suitors. To all of 
 which Gramont replied with a laugh, saying that if 
 she had loved any of these savages, he would have 
 had nothing to say to her, and ended with, " I shall 
 make my peace with my King, and he will make her 
 a lady of the Queen's bedchamber. Toulougeon 
 [his elder brother] will die, and Miss Hamilton will 
 have Semeat [the Gramont country seat] with the 
 Chevalier de Gramont," and then he made a bet 
 with St. Evremond of a hundred louis on the fulfil- 
 ment of his prophecy. 
 
 The Count was, however, sometimes inclined to be 
 uneasy concerning Elizabeth's many lovers. Colonel 
 Russell gave him perhaps the greatest anxiety, and this 
 he showed by his somewhat malicious description of 
 him as a man full seventy — who, to prove that he 
 was not old, would dance until exhausted, his dancing 
 being like his clothes, full twenty years out of 
 fashion. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the Colonel was barely fifty, 
 that is to say not ten years older than Gramont himself, 
 and was in many respects a very good farti, though 
 Miss Hamilton did not accept him. This gave the 
 Chevalier much relief, which he expressed jubilantly 
 to the King, saying that now there was only young 
 Russell, the nephew, left, who had once been much in 
 love with Mrs. Middleton ; but as Russell's greatest 
 way of showing his affection was to sacrifice a portrait 
 of Mrs. Middleton, or some of her letters, he was in 
 no way dangerous. " So he has really gone ! " an- 
 swered Charles. " Well, I will give you another 
 piece of good news. You have lost a much more 
 dangerous rival, that is, if he had not been married,
 
 ELIZABETH HAA4ILT0N 145 
 
 for my brother has lately fallen in love with Lady 
 Chesterfield " ; to which the irrepressible Chevalier 
 responded piously, " How many blessings at once ! " 
 
 Lely painted several pictures of Elizabeth Hamilton, 
 and it is said that he himself thought the portrait 
 here reproduced to be one of his best, having been 
 drawn with particular pleasure. The Duke of York 
 was also so much attracted by it that he had serious 
 thoughts of recommencing his attentions to the 
 original, thus giving Gramont a thrill of alarm. 
 However, Lady Denham interfered, and the danger 
 passed. Why the Chevalier did not make his offer 
 and settle the matter it is difficult to say ; but he 
 had another period of anxiety when Richard Talbot 
 (later Lord Tyrconnel) hovered around the fair 
 beauty. There is, however, some evidence that 
 there was an understanding between the pair before 
 Gramont set out for that futile journey to France, 
 on the mistaken information that his King desired his 
 return. As soon as he arrived in Paris he was met 
 by his brother, who told him that he must go back 
 without appearing at Court, by the King's order. 
 Severe as this was, it did not give great pain to the 
 Chevalier, who had been thinking of Miss Hamilton 
 all through his journey, and who, having obtained 
 leave to stay a few days to collect some debts of 
 honour, took his departure with great unconcern, 
 arriving in London with the highest satisfaction, 
 his reappearance giving La Belle much pleasure. When 
 Gramont subsequently went to Bristol with the 
 Court she " granted him the permission of writing 
 her an account of any news that might occur upon 
 the journey," a permission which he used to the full,
 
 146 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 though his letters seem to have been entirely about 
 his own concerns. 
 
 Before 1663 had run its course Gramont was really- 
 pardoned by Louis XIV, and was so delighted that 
 he hurriedly made preparations for his departure. It is 
 really impossible to say how far this man was sincere, 
 or rather constant, in his love-making. It may 
 have been that he was so overjoyed at the chance of 
 going back to his own country under the favour of 
 his King that he did for the time forget all about the 
 lovely Elizabeth. In any case, so far as can be judged 
 from the story, he made his preparations, and left 
 London without even seeing her to say good-bye, 
 and drove post-haste to Dover. As he was entering 
 the town there was a clatter of horses' hoofs 
 on the road behind him, and before he could alight 
 horsemen appeared, one on either side of the carriage. 
 When he was in the act of descending he found 
 himself face to face with one of the Hamilton brothers ! 
 As he looked at his friend in momentary astonishment 
 the voice of a second brother, George, broke the 
 silence with : 
 
 " Chevalier de Gramont, have you forgotten 
 nothing in London ? " 
 
 Nothing could disturb the Chevalier's outward 
 suavity. He replied with a bow : 
 
 " Pardon, monsieur, but I have forgotten to marry 
 your sister." 
 
 The three stayed in Dover for the night, and 
 returned the next morning together to London, 
 where the marriage was at once solemnized. This 
 incident, it is said, furnished Moliere with the idea 
 of his play, Le Mariage Force.
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 147 
 
 It need scarcely be said that Gramont does not 
 give this incident in his Memoirs. His concluding 
 words on his love affairs are as follows : 
 
 " The Chevalier de Gramont, as a reward of a 
 constancy he had never before known, and which he 
 never afterwards practised, found Hymen and Love 
 united in his favour, and was at last blessed with the 
 possession of Miss Hamilton." 
 
 This important event happened in December, 
 1663, and in September of the following year the 
 French ambassador announced quaintly to his King 
 that " a son, as beautiful as the mother and as gallant 
 as the father, was born to Madame La Comtesse de 
 Gramont yesterday evening." This son must have 
 died as an infant, for no further mention is made of 
 him. From the Journal de Dangeau we learn that 
 " they had only two daughters, who, though ugly, 
 were greater intriguers and better known in the 
 fashionable world than many belles." The elder of 
 these daughters married Henry Howard, Earl of 
 Stafford, and the younger went into a convent. 
 
 It was not until November, 1664, that the Count 
 and his wife went to France, but they often came 
 back to England. After one such visit, in 1669, King 
 Charles sent a letter to his sister, the Duchess of 
 Orleans, saying, " I wrote to you yesterday by the 
 Comte de Gramont, but I believe this letter will 
 come sooner to your hands ; for he goes by the way 
 of Dieppe with his wife and family ; and now that 
 I have named her, I cannot choose but again desire 
 you to be kind to her ; for, besides the merit her 
 family has on both sides, she is as good a creature as 
 ever lived. I believe she will pass for a handsome
 
 148 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 woman in France, though she has not yet, since her 
 lying-in, recovered that good shape she had before, 
 and I am afraid never will." 
 
 Elizabeth, Comtesse de Gramont, was not so 
 popular in France as she had been in England. It may 
 be that the perplexities of life with a gay, somewhat 
 heartless man sobered her own bright spirit, but the 
 French ladies judged her, if we may be guided by 
 Madame de Sevigne, as affected, by no means agreeable, 
 and inclined to give herself haughty airs. Madame 
 de Maintenon thought her more agreeable than 
 amiable, and another lady has left a record that she 
 was A?iglaise insupportable. 
 
 Things happened as Gramont had predicted. His 
 brother died, and he became owner of the family 
 estates and inheritor of the family income, while his 
 wife was made one of the French Queen's ladies. 
 
 In 1688 Gramont came as special envoy to England 
 to congratulate James on the birth of his son, and 
 received from that pleased monarch a gratuity of 
 ^1083 6s. Sd. To the end of his life he was frivolous 
 and witty, living always on the surface, turning with 
 indifference from trouble, a man who " hated sick 
 people and loved them when they were well." 
 
 The Countess became devout, and there is on record 
 a little incident which speaks volumes upon the differ- 
 ences of their characters and habits of thought. 
 When Gramont was getting old he had a bad illness, 
 and his wife tried to instil into his mind some idea of 
 religion. One day she repeated the Lord's Prayer, 
 to w^hich he listened with great attention, saying 
 at the end, " What is that prayer ? It is very fine ! 
 Who first made it ? "
 
 ELIZABETH HAMILTON 149 
 
 The King sent the Marquis de Dangeau during this 
 illness to see how Gramont really was, and to advise 
 him to think of God. When the invalid heard his 
 friend's errand he turned to his Countess with a 
 flash of his old wit, saying, " If you don't look to it, 
 Dangeau will juggle you out of my conversion." 
 Later on, when he had recovered his health, it was said 
 that he too had acquired a new devotion, concerning 
 which St. Evremond asserted that he believed it to be 
 sincere and honest. 
 
 The Marquis de Dangeau is less complimentary 
 to the Count than to the Countess. He says of the 
 one, w^hen he was old, that " the Count's face was 
 that of an old ape," and of the other, that she "had 
 most lively wit and most extensive information, the 
 greatest dignity, the utmost ease in her parties, the 
 most refined elegance at Court. Her native haughti- 
 ness was tempered by a refined and elevated piety 
 which had converted her into a true penitent. Her 
 good sense was so great that she imparted it to others, 
 and made the duties of a wife compatible with the 
 follies and irregularities of her husband." But others 
 give a more definite and more pleasant picture of the 
 man. " He had laughing eyes, well-made nose, 
 beautiful mouth, and a little dimple in his chin," says 
 Bussy-Rabutin. 
 
 At the age of eighty Gramont dictated his Memoirs 
 to his brother-in-law Anthony, who had been living in 
 France since the Revolution of 1688, and it is really 
 to Anthony Hamilton that we owe the lively and 
 amusing account of this group of English people dur- 
 ing the year 1663, ^^^ Gramont himself could not put 
 two words together on paper. As with Beau Nash,
 
 150 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 a pen was to him a torpedo, which numbed all his 
 faculties. The censor of the Press, Fontenelle, was 
 so shocked at the levity of these Memoirs, and so 
 much deplored the impression they might give of the 
 Count's character, that he refused to license the 
 book, and Gramont indignantly appealed to the 
 Chancellor, who decided, fortunately for us, that a 
 man had liberty to do what he liked with his own 
 reputation. 
 
 The Chevalier was in the habit of saying that he 
 never intended to die, but Death, the inexorable, 
 visited him in 1707, when he was eighty-seven, and 
 his wife died a year later.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 MARGARET BROOKE, LADY DENHAM 
 
 " What frost to fruit, what arsenic to the rat, 
 What to fair Denham mortal chocolate." 
 
 Andrew MarvelL 
 
 George Digby, second Earl of Bristol, had he been 
 more stable, might have been a man of influence 
 during the early part of King Charles IPs reign. He 
 had suffered much for Royalty, and at the early age 
 of twelve had made a wonderful speech at the Bar of 
 the House of Commons, on behalf of his father, who 
 had been committed to the Tower by the instru- 
 mentality of the Duke of Buckingham. But he showed 
 in all his transactions an untrustworthiness which 
 effectually spoiled his career. During his enforced 
 residence abroad he became a Catholic, which much 
 alarmed Charles, who was then waiting for the call 
 from England, so that he felt obliged to deprive him 
 of all office. He came back to England at the Restora- 
 tion and was made a Knight of the Garter, yet his 
 religion prevented his being given any post. Of him 
 Horace Walpole says : " He wrote against Popery and 
 embraced it. He was a zealous opposer of the Court 
 and a sacrifice for it ; was conscientiously converted 
 in the midst of his prosecution of Lord Strafford, and 
 was most unconscientiously a prosecuter of Lord 
 
 \
 
 152 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Clarendon. With great parts, he always hurt himself 
 and his friends. With romantic bravery, he was 
 always an unsuccessful commander. He spoke for the 
 Test Act, though a Roman Catholic ; and addicted 
 himself to astrology on the birthday of true philo- 
 sophy." 
 
 The only way in which we are here concerned with 
 this unstable Earl of Bristol is in studying the mischief 
 he did to his friends, and particularly to the two Miss 
 Brookes, whose portraits Lely painted. He has often 
 been described, — and in fact is so described in the cata- 
 logue of the pictures at Hampton Court, — as the uncle 
 of those two sisters, whereas they were only distantly 
 connected by marriage. 
 
 William Brooke, the father of the three girls, was 
 the son of that George Brooke who was executed in 
 1603 for taking part in what was then known as 
 Raleigh's conspiracy. His elder brother. Lord Cob- 
 ham, was tried with him on the same charge, but was 
 acquitted. When Lord Cobham died William Brooke, 
 his nephew, should have succeeded to the title, but 
 was not allowed to assume it until it might be the 
 King's pleasure that he should do so. It never was 
 the King's pleasure, and he died at the battle of 
 Newbury, fighting on the Parliamentary side, in 
 
 1643. 
 
 William Brooke's wife (Penelope Hill) remained a 
 widow for some time. Then, though she had three 
 daughters. Hill, Frances, and Margaret, she married 
 again, her second husband being Edward Russell, the 
 fourth son of the then Earl of Bedford. She had 
 seven children by him, one of whom was the 
 young Russell who was so much in love with Mrs.
 
 Margaret Brooke, Ladv Denha.m 
 (^After Lely) 
 
 [to face page 152
 
 MARGARET BROOKE 153 
 
 Middleton and who thought that the greatest proof 
 he could give of his later love for La Belle Hamilton 
 was the tearing up of Mrs. Middleton's letters in her 
 honour. 
 
 Of the three daughters born to Penelope and to 
 William Brooke, the eldest, named after her, Hill, 
 married Sir William Boothby in 1656 ; the second 
 girl, Frances, and the third, Margaret, both of them 
 very attractive, must have been twenty or more when 
 they were discovered by Lord Bristol to be of possible 
 use to himself. They were both possessed of some 
 fortune and were co-heirs of the forfeited barony of 
 Cobham and of the baronies of Braye and Borough. 
 Edward Russell, the stepfather of Frances and Mar- 
 garet, was brother to Lady Bristol, and therefore the 
 relationship between them and Lord Bristol was no 
 nearer than that they were the stepdaughters of his 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 The youngest girl, Margaret, is often miscalled 
 Elizabeth, and is also described as the eldest daughter 
 and not the third, while their respective ages are given 
 as sixteen and seventeen. These inaccuracies are not 
 of much importance to-day, but they are not the less 
 inaccuracies. Lady Elizabeth Brooke, who died in 
 1683, being noted for her elegance and her piety, was 
 a daughter of Thomas Colepepper, and was painted 
 not by Lely, but by Parkhurst. Gramont says of the 
 two sisters that they were both formed by nature to 
 excite love in others, as well as to be susceptible of 
 it themselves ; " they were just what the King 
 wanted." 
 
 When Digby, Earl of Bristol, saw these two girls 
 he was without any post either under the Crown or
 
 154 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 the Government, and he was hoping, despite his pro- 
 fession of Catholicism, to have office conferred on 
 him. He was very friendly with Charles, and always 
 used his influence as much as possible against Chan- 
 cellor Clarendon's prudent advice — pandering to 
 Charles's love of pleasure and hoping by amusing him 
 in the evening to gain honour from him in the 
 morning. 
 
 The pretty, light-hearted sisters, bred for society, 
 with no other aim than to attract and to be attracted, 
 set his thoughts working, with the result that he be- 
 came particularly polite to their mother, Lady Russell, 
 and offered any assistance he could give towards 
 settling her daughters in life. One step towards that 
 end was to invite them to his supper parties and enter- 
 tainments, at which luxury and elegance seemed to 
 rival each other. To these parties he also invited the 
 King and did his best to promote friendly feelings 
 between His Majesty and the two girls. Frankly he 
 hoped that Charles would fall in love with one or 
 both, for he was quite prepared to sacrifice his two 
 " relations " if only he could gain something for him- 
 self by so doing. The King was quite sensible of this 
 kind attention, and divided his favours between 
 Frances and Margaret, at first scarcely troubling to 
 make any choice at all. Things would most probably 
 have gone just as the Earl wished had it not been for 
 Lady Castlemaine, who found out in some way what 
 was happening, and as she was devoting herself at 
 that time entirely to the King, had no desire to share 
 his attentions with any one. It is impossible to say 
 who told her of what went on at these parties, but 
 my lady thought it time that she too received invita-
 
 MARGARET BROOKE 155 
 
 tions to them. This, of course, the Earl could not 
 refuse, so Charles — it was during the somewhat 
 diffident stage of his love for Castlemaine, when they 
 quarrelled and made it up like children — had to show 
 a certain amount of propriety, and Margaret Brooke, 
 who had been boldest in her assaults on the King's 
 heart, felt so cowed by the overbearing arrogance of 
 the favourite that she did not even dream of con- 
 testing the advantage she had gained. As for the 
 King, we are told that he did not dare to think any 
 more about the girl. 
 
 Among those who had watched the little comedy 
 was the Duke of York, who had quite as catholic a 
 taste in love as his brother ; and he thought Margaret 
 pretty enough to be worthy of his attentions. We 
 can say nothing of hearts caught in the rebound in 
 this case, but Miss Brooke did not hesitate to accept 
 consolation at the hands of the second gentleman 
 in the kingdom. However, once more there were 
 those outside her little social circle to step in and try 
 to save her in spite of herself. It may be that her 
 stepfather — for her mother died in 1661 — began to 
 realize the importance of events, and preferred to 
 see the girl towards whom he felt responsibility an 
 honest wife rather than a shameless hanger-on of the 
 Court ; certain it is that as soon as a suitor for Mar- 
 garet's hand opportunely appeared in the person of 
 Sir John Denham, she was quickly and safely married. 
 Six days before the ceremony Charles, by a Royal 
 warrant, conferred upon the bride, in common with 
 her two sisters of the whole blood, the precedence of 
 a baron's daughter. 
 
 The bridegroom bore a name well known in English
 
 156 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 literature as that of a poet, satirist, and wit. 
 Denham had been a gambler from his youth, and 
 when he was about twenty-six this vice landed him 
 in family trouble, so to prove to his father that he 
 was an innocently accused young man he wrote an 
 essay against gaming, entitled " The Anatomy of 
 Play, Written by a Worthy and Learned Gent. 
 Dedicated to his Father to show his detestation of it." 
 Whether his father — whose very caps, wrought, it is 
 true, with gold, went to find money for his son's gaming 
 — was hoodwinked by the pamphlet, no record tells. 
 John Denham married in 1631, and a few years later 
 inherited his father's property. He wrote a tragedy 
 named The Sophy, which was acted successfully and 
 which made Waller say of him, " He broke out like 
 the Irish rebellion, three-score thousand strong, when 
 nobody was aware, or in the least suspected it." His 
 reputation, however, rests chiefly upon his poem of 
 " Cooper's Hill," a description of the scenery about 
 Egham, and that is mainly remembered for its brief 
 passage about the Thames, " strong without rage, 
 without o'erflowing full." During the many troubles 
 of the Civil War George Wither, another poet, applied 
 to Cromwell for a grant of Denham's property, and 
 in consequence held his house at Egham. Sir John 
 retahated for this later when, Wither being taken 
 prisoner by the Royalists, he begged Charles I 
 to pardon him on the ground that while Wither 
 lived he would not himself be the worst poet in 
 England. 
 
 By means of ciphers Denham managed Charles I's 
 correspondence, but when in 1648 he became sus- 
 pected he took a share in the escape of James, Duke
 
 MARGARET BROOKE 157 
 
 of York, from England, and went with him to Holland. 
 He was from first to last a Royalist, and at the Restora- 
 tion was granted land and leases in exchange for those 
 he had lost ; he was also made surveyor-general of His 
 Majesty's works, in which capacity he is said to have 
 built Burlington House. He arranged Charles H's 
 coronation, was made a Knight of the Bath, and was 
 constantly in touch with the Court. Thus it was 
 that, having been a widower some time, he became 
 attracted by Margaret Brooke and asked her hand in 
 marriage. 
 
 Gramont, who, as has already been said, allowed no 
 story to fail of being effective for want of exaggera- 
 tion, says that at his marriage with a girl of eighteen 
 he was seventy-nine (" ancient and limping," accord- 
 ing to Aubrey) ; but this was pure invention. In 
 May, 1665, the year of his marriage, he had reached 
 his fiftieth birthday, though there is reason to believe 
 that from ill-health he looked much older, while 
 instead of being eighteen, his bride was twenty-three. 
 Margaret Brooke might have refused to be thus auto- 
 cratically settled, but that the Duke of York had cooled 
 in his love-making and had neglected her for some 
 time. Therefore she determined to take the man who 
 wanted her and make the best of it, with her town 
 house in Scotland Yard and a country estate at 
 Waltham Cross. 
 
 As soon as James knew that another man desired 
 the fair damsel she went up considerably in his estima- 
 tion, and he pursued her everywhere ; but Margaret 
 shook her head and kept him at a distance, though, as 
 she longed above all things to be a Court lady, she 
 made him promises of future favours upon the fulfil-
 
 158 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 ment of certain conditions. Sir John Denham had 
 no idea that a conspiracy of this sort attended his 
 marriage ; he was very much in love, and probably 
 hoped to have years of happiness with his young wife. 
 
 For a time it seemed as though he would have his 
 desire, for Lady Chesterfield, who was intent on 
 revenging herself for her husband's neglect, was 
 tempted to rob the young bride of the Royal lover 
 she coveted. She made a dead set at James, a Prince 
 who had never been able to resist a woman's eyes. 
 She ogled him and he ogled her in return, " and as he 
 was the most unguarded ogler of his time, the whole 
 Court was informed of the intrigue before it was well 
 begun." This little affair gave Sir John at least a 
 few months' happiness with his wife, though she was 
 scarcely pleased with the turn things had taken, all of 
 which sounds very sordid in an age when the whole 
 standard of life and decency has been raised. 
 
 Yet this had a reverse side, which no one has put 
 before us so successfully as Gramont ; though behind 
 all his graceful words one sees lurking the dark shadow 
 of licentiousness and want of principle. He tells us 
 that at the time of Lady Chesterfield's infatuation for 
 James " the Court was an entire scene of gallantry 
 and amusements, with all the politeness and magnifi- 
 cence which the inclinations of a prince, naturally 
 addicted to tenderness and pleasure, could suggest ; 
 the beautiful were desirous of charming, and the men 
 endeavoured to please ; all studied to set themselves 
 off to the best advantage ; some distinguished them- 
 selves by dancing ; others by show and magnificence ; 
 some by their wit, many by their amours, but few by 
 their constancy."
 
 MARGARET BROOKE 159 
 
 One might almost have thought that Margaret Den- 
 ham would have been discouraged by the many ob- 
 stacles which seemed to come in the way of the fulfil- 
 ment of her desire for Royal favour ; but being a 
 woman without principle she waited her time, and 
 at last, after Lady Chesterfield had finally been carried 
 off to the country by her jealous husband, she saw 
 her goal in sight. She had made herself conspicuous 
 by her bitter anger against her rival ; now she was as 
 conspicuous by the adulation she offered to the Duke. 
 A year after her marriage she was publicly regarded 
 as James's mistress, Pepys telling us in June, 1666, 
 how " the Duke of York is wholly given up to his 
 new mistress, my Lady Denham, going at noonday 
 with all his gentlemen to visit her in Scotland Yard ; 
 she declaring that she will not be his mistress, as 
 Mrs. Price, to go up and down the Privy-stairs, but 
 will be owned publicly ; and so she is. Mr. Brouncker, 
 it seems, was the person to bring it about, and my 
 Lady Castlemaine, who designs thereby to fortify 
 herself with the Duke, as she has quarrelled with the 
 King." Wheels within wheels, Castlemaine's temper 
 caused her to need an ally in the King's brother, so 
 she gains his favour by satisfying Lady Denham's 
 desire ! One could wish that Brouncker, who had 
 sufficient intellect to be one of the most famous 
 chess players of his time, had not been engaged in the 
 dishonourable work with which he occasionally served 
 the Duke. 
 
 Once having actually started the game, the Duke 
 was no laggard : he pursued his courtship as openly as 
 the lady could desire ; at assemblies he would take her 
 aside and talk to her alone in the sight of all the
 
 i6o FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 world. Says Pepys : " Good Mr. Evelyn cries out 
 against it and calls it bickering ; for the Duke of York 
 talks a little to her, and then she goes away, and then 
 he follows her again like a dog." This was in the 
 midst of the Great Fire, and it might have been 
 thought that even a Royal Duke could have found 
 something better to do in such a terrible emergency. 
 But the evils of the Court appear to have afflicted 
 every one with a wonderful callousness. The nobility 
 held aloof in the country, offering no help, either to 
 comfort the King or to put heart into the people, 
 or to guard against robberies and commotions. No 
 priest went to the King or Court to give good counsel, 
 or to comfort the suffering poor. " All is dead, 
 nothing of good in any of their minds." Thus said 
 Evelyn in a desponding mood, and we are glad to 
 know that Charles was better than his people at this 
 crisis, that he stayed in London, went to the burning 
 districts, personally conducted rescues and escapes, 
 advised about blowing up houses, and is said by 
 his foresight to have saved the Tower from destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Lady Denham naturally wished to do what she 
 could for the man who had first introduced her to 
 Court ; and so she became a great advocate of Lord 
 Bristol's schemes, which very | much annoyed the 
 Duke, for he had no belief in mixing love and 
 business. Thus it became whispered abroad that he 
 was less in her company, and that she was much 
 upset by it. 
 
 As for Sir John Denham, he went through every 
 phase of jealousy. He knew that he was laughed at, 
 not only by his friends, but by the public generally,
 
 MARGARET BROOKE i6i 
 
 as an old man who was obliged to be complaisant about 
 the sins o£ his pretty young wife, and unlike Lord 
 Chesterfield, he could think of no way of stopping the 
 intrigue. He brooded and grew strange in his manner, 
 and at last determined to take a journey to see some 
 freestone quarries at Portland, in Dorset. History 
 records that the first proof of his madness was that he 
 posted to within a mile of the place, and then would go 
 no farther, but drove back to London without seeing 
 the quarries. It may have been that the long solitary 
 journey had allowed his brain to run riot over his 
 dishonour, and the object of his travels became of 
 no account. On returning to London he went to 
 Hounslow, and demanded rents of lands that he had 
 sold many years before ; and when he saw the King 
 told him that he was the Holy Ghost. Aubrey states 
 that this interval of madness was caused by his wife's 
 conduct, but there are clumsy lines in Andrew Mar- 
 veil's satire on the palace which Clarendon was build- 
 ing which hint that his illness was due to a blow from 
 a brickbat. 
 
 *'Thus daily his gouty inventions him pained, 
 
 And all for to save the expenses of brickbat ; 
 That engine so fatal which Denham had brained, 
 And too much resembled his wife's chocolat." 
 
 I 
 
 Whatever the cause, the madness did not last long ; 
 then, while he was convalescent, his wife fell ill. 
 
 Lady Denham had clung pertinaciously to her desire 
 to be given a post in the Duchess's household, and 
 when a place as Lady of the Bedchamber fell vacant 
 she demanded it. The Duke promised that she should 
 have it, and insisted upon this with Anne. She naturally 
 refused to agree to the arrangement ; it was bad 
 
 L
 
 i62 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 enough to have rivals outside her home, or to have 
 more or less insignificant rivals inside, but to admit 
 into her household in a familiar capacity a beautiful, 
 pushing young woman who had shown so strong a 
 determination to secure the Duke's affections was too 
 much for her patience ; she absolutely refused to be 
 a party to such a plan. At this critical time in the 
 quarrel Lady Denham was seized with a violent and 
 painful illness, so that every one believed she was 
 at the point of death. In the midst of her pain she 
 cried out that she had been poisoned, and every one 
 repeated this idea. However, a few days later, that is 
 to say on November 12th, 1666, she was recovering, 
 though she still maintained, even telling the Duke of 
 York so, that she had been poisoned. 
 
 Margaret Denham lived for two months after being 
 taken ill, dying on January 6th, 1666-^. The idea of 
 poison, which seems to have died down, was revived, 
 and great excitement prevailed. John Aubrey plainly 
 says that the poison was administered in a cup of 
 chocolate by the Countess of Rochester. Gramont 
 is just as exact in fastening the guilt of her death upon 
 her husband. 
 
 As has been said, Gramont could never bring himself 
 to spoil a story for the sake of mere exactitude, and if 
 there were two opinions about a case he would always 
 adopt the more dramatic ; therefore his assertion of 
 Denham's wickedness is no reason for our believing 
 it. His description, however, is picturesque enough 
 to be given in his own words : 
 
 " His wife was young and handsome, he old and 
 disagreeable : what reason, then, had he to flatter him-
 
 MARGARET BROOKE 163 
 
 self that Heaven would exempt him from the fate 
 of husbands in the like circumstances ? This he was 
 continually saying to himself ; but, when compli- 
 ments were poured in upon him from all sides, upon 
 the place his lady was going to have near the duchess's 
 person, he formed ideas of what was sufficient to have 
 made him hang himself, if he had possessed the resolu- 
 tion. The traitor chose rather to exercise his courage 
 against another. He wanted precedents for putting 
 in practice his resentments in a privileged country ; 
 that of Lord Chesterfield was not sufficiently bitter 
 for the revenge he meditated : besides, he had no 
 country house to which he could carry his unfortunate 
 wife. This being the case, the old villain made her 
 travel a much longer journey without stirring out of 
 London. Merciless fate robbed her of life, and of 
 her dearest hopes, in the bloom of youth." 
 
 Whether there was or was not truth in the belief 
 that poison was given there was a wave of public 
 indignation concerning Lady Denham's death ; some 
 regarding her husband as the murderer, and some 
 boldly stating that Anne of York had inspired the 
 deed. Lampoons were written, and shouted in the 
 streets ; a libel accusing Anne was affixed to her palace 
 door. Two days after Lady Denham's death Lord 
 Conway wrote that she was " poisoned, as she said 
 herself, in a cup of chocolate. The Duke of York 
 was very sad, and kept his chambers when I went to 
 visit him." A Key to Count Gramont''s Memoirs^ 
 published a year later than the book itself, gives the 
 information that " the Duchess of York was strongly 
 suspected of having poisoned her with powder of
 
 i64 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 diamonds." Crowds gathered round Sir John's house, 
 and Gramont asserts that their purpose was to tear 
 him to pieces as soon as he came abroad. But he shut 
 himself up to bewail his wife's death, and appeased 
 the people by giving her a magnificent funeral in the 
 chancel of St. Margaret's at Westminster, and by 
 distributing four times more burnt wine than had 
 ever been drunk at any funeral in England before. 
 The Duke further declared that never again would he 
 own a mistress publicly, upon which Pepys comments, 
 " which I shall be glad of, and would the King would 
 do the like." 
 
 That many people thoroughly believed Lady Den- 
 ham to have been poisoned is shown by the references 
 in contemporary literature. One writer, Henry New- 
 come, says that a little later the Duchess of York was 
 " troubled with the apparition of the Lady Denham, 
 and through anxiety bit off a piece of her tongue " ; 
 and Marvell refers to the subject more than once. 
 
 " Express her [Anne] studying now, if China clay 
 Can, without breaking, venomed juice convey : 
 Or how a mortal poison she may draw 
 Out of the cordial meal of the cocoa." 
 
 Again, he speaks of her trying forbidden arts when 
 she finds " herself scorned for emulous Denham's 
 face." Also, when her baby son, the Duke of Kendal, 
 died, at a time when his brother was mortally ill, he 
 published the epigram : 
 
 " Kendal is dead, and Cambridge riding post, 
 What fitter sacrifice for Denham's ghost ? " 
 
 The Duchess must have suffered considerably at
 
 MARGARET BROOKE 165 
 
 being so lightly accused, but accusations fell more 
 easily then than they do now, for there was no law of 
 libel, and speech was as much plainer as dress was 
 more magnificent. When all had been said and written, 
 there was no proof that Lady Denham had not died 
 from natural causes, the autopsy held by her own in- 
 structions betraying no trace of poison. The Earl of 
 Ossory wrote on January 25th to the Duke of Ormond : 
 " My Lady Denham's body at her own desire was 
 opened, but no sign of poison found." There seems 
 to have been only her own excited imagination to give 
 utterance and lend weight to the suspicion. 
 
 Sir John Denham died a little more than two years 
 after his wife, in March, 1669, at the age of fifty- 
 three. His intellect was still keen and he wrote an 
 elegy upon Cowley's death, which showed no sign of 
 failing powers ; he had also a sufficiently large fortune 
 to live at ease, but he was not a favourite at Court, 
 for there was an idea that he was still mad, and the 
 poor man was reduced to feeling gratitude towards 
 any one who would talk with him. His burial-place 
 was in Westminster Abbey, near the monument of 
 Geoffrey Chaucer. Aubrey gives a quaint description 
 of his appearance during the last part of his life. He 
 was tall, round-shouldered, and delicate ; his hair was 
 thin, flaxen and having a moist curl ; his eye was of a 
 kind of light goose-grey, not big, but possessed of a 
 strange piercingness, as though he could see into your 
 very thoughts. Serious as he was in character he had 
 been even more rollicking than most men in his youth, 
 for there is on record one occasion on which, after 
 staying too late at a tavern, he secured a plasterer's
 
 i66 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 brush and a large pot of ink, with which as he went 
 down the Strand, from Temple Bar to Charing Cross, 
 he blotted out all the signs. He was discovered as 
 the author of this joke, fined, and solemnly warned 
 as to his future behaviour.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 FRANCES BROOKE, LADY WHITMORE 
 
 " The Cause of love can never be assigned, 
 'Tis in no face, but in the lover's mind." — Dry den. 
 
 It may well cause wonder how it was that of two 
 girls brought up in exactly similar circumstances one 
 was so thoroughly bent on a life of pleasure, while 
 the other seems to have renounced it, excepting in its 
 most innocent form, after the first introduction. Was 
 it only temperament, or was it that the younger of 
 the two was so much more fascinating than the other ? 
 Judging from her portrait, Frances Brooke must have 
 been a woman of somewhat determined character and 
 marked individuality, and she probably had quite 
 enough sense to know on which side of life lay the 
 best things. She must have been nearly twenty-five 
 when she married a man whose name is scarcely met 
 with in the chronicles of Court circles, though he was 
 made a Knight of the Bath at the Coronation of 
 Charles II. This was Sir Thomas Whitmore, of 
 Bridgnorth, second son of Sir Thomas Whitmore, 
 Bart., of Apley Park, in Shropshire. Of this marriage 
 there were three daughters born, the second of whom, 
 Frances, was one of Kneller's Beauties, and will be 
 met with in later pages. Sir Thomas Whitmore died 
 in 1682, being buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. Of the 
 
 167
 
 i68 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 marriage we have just these bare facts and nothing 
 more. 
 
 And really nothing more substantial can be said of 
 Frances Brooke's second marriage, excepting that 
 though both bride and groom were middle-aged there 
 seems to have been a deep love between them. The 
 second husband was Mathew Harvey, of Twickenham, 
 who was probably even more of a stranger to Court 
 life than was Sir Thomas Whitmore. He was pos- 
 sessed of no title, though he had both a brother and a 
 cousin who had received the honour of knighthood ; 
 but there was fame of a far higher kind in his family, 
 for he was the nephew of the great Harvey who dis- 
 covered the secret of the circulation of the blood. 
 
 That Mathew Harvey and his wife passed a few 
 years together in a happy domestic fashion can scarcely 
 be doubted, and then Frances died at the age of 
 about fifty, being buried in Twickenham Church on 
 May 15 th, 1690, her body lying close beneath the 
 pew in which she and her husband had so often sat 
 side by side. A monument, in the form of an urn 
 made of veined marble standing upon a pedestal, was 
 raised to her memory. On each side of the pedestal 
 were carved the arms of Harvey and Brooke, and on 
 the front of it was an epitaph written by Dryden, 
 who was moved either by his friendship for Harvey 
 or his admiration for Frances, and in which he bore 
 witness — as all such epitaphs do — to her virtues, 
 though in a simple, dignified way which is not frequent 
 on the tombstones of the period. 
 
 " Fair, kind and true, a treasure each alone, 
 A wife, a mistress and a friend in one, 
 Rest in this tomb, rais'd at thy husband's cost, 
 Here sadly summing what he had and lost.
 
 Frances Brooke, Lady Wiiiimork 
 {Afla- Lcl)') 
 
 [to i-ace pa<;k 168
 
 FRANCES BROOKE 169 
 
 Come, Virgins, ere in equal bands ye join, 
 Come first, and offer at her sacred shrine ; 
 Pray but for half the virtues of this wife. 
 Compound for all the rest, v/ith longer life ; 
 And wish your vows, like hers, may be return'd, 
 So lov'd when living, and when dead so mourn'd." 
 
 There is neither date nor name to this part of the 
 monument ; as though the bereaved man thought it 
 needless for his own sake to mark his wife's tomb 
 more particularly, for he could never forget where 
 she lay. On his death, in 1693, an inscription record- 
 ing the event was chiselled on the back and right side 
 of the pedestal. 
 
 In his will Mr. Harvey desired to be buried under 
 his pew, close to his wife's grave and coffin, his head 
 to her feet, the cost not to be more than £1^0. He 
 left ;^ioo to the poor in Twickenham on condition 
 that the parish kept in repair the monument he had 
 erected to his wife. It is said that the devotion of his 
 housekeeper to Lady Whitmore in her last illness was 
 partly responsible for the fact that he left his estates 
 to that sympathetic woman, and it is not unlikely 
 that the fact that he had no children made it easy for 
 him to do this. Since those far-away days the monu- 
 ment has been moved from its old place in the body 
 of the church and placed at the head of one of the 
 stairs to the gallery. 
 
 As far as can be judged — for in these memoirs there 
 is no saying what exciting episodes took place in those 
 years of which there is no record — the lives of the 
 two sisters touched the extremes in human fate. 
 The one unprincipled, light in love, seeking shame 
 publicly, her name both in life and in death on the 
 lips of all ; the other unknown except by a few, and
 
 170 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 unsung except by the best poet of the day, who, 
 though he had stigmatized the vices of his age in 
 many a drama, could only speak of her in loving 
 honour. 
 
 There has been a curious divergence of opinion 
 concerning the portrait of Lady Whitmore, the 
 original of which is in Hampton Court. Mrs. Jameson 
 wrote in her book of biographies : " When the accom- 
 panying portrait was first copied and engraved for 
 publication, it was supposed to represent Frances 
 Brooke, Lady Whitmore, the younger [should be 
 elder] sister of Lady Denham ; by which name the 
 portrait has been traditionally known in the gallery at 
 Windsor. But on examining the duplicate at Narford, 
 in the possession of Mr. Fountaine, and referring to 
 the authority of Horace Walpole and Granger, there 
 can be little doubt that it represents a woman much 
 more notorious, Anne, Countess of Southesk. By 
 this title the picture has always been distinguished 
 at Narford since the days of Sir Andrew Fountaine, 
 the first possessor and the contemporary of the origi- 
 nal, and by this name it was recognized as the original 
 by Horace Walpole. The copy made in crayons by 
 his order is now at Strawberry Hill, and noted in 
 his catalogue as that of Lady Southesk." 
 
 No one seems to have troubled to prove or contro- 
 vert this decision ; the picture at Hampton Court is 
 still labelled Frances Brooke, but the engraving of 
 it at the British Museum is labelled Anne, Lady 
 Southesk. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Jameson did not 
 go quite far enough. She may have superficially 
 examined the picture at Narford, but she could not 
 have compared the two canvases. Had she done so
 
 FRANCES BROOKE 171 
 
 she would have discovered that either the copyist 
 was a practical joker or that he had definite instruc- 
 tions to do what he did. He represented the whole 
 picture with only some slight inaccuracies about 
 small details ; the figure, the pose, the clothing are 
 all the same, but the face in one is that of Frances 
 Brooke, while the face in the picture at Narford is 
 that of Lady Southesk. Miss Brooke possessed heavily 
 marked features, thick eyebrows, a long, rather ugly 
 nose, well-formed but large mouth, and dark hair. 
 The picture at Narford is of a woman with pretty, 
 straight features, pencilled eyebrows, a straight nose, 
 a mouth small enough to fit an infant of two years, 
 and taking it altogether a baby face imbued with an 
 expression of obstinacy which we see oftenest in 
 childhood. 
 
 Lady Southesk — the Anne Hamilton so friendly in 
 her youth with Barbara Palmer — had a particularly 
 unsavoury reputation, and by proving that the 
 portraits are really different, we have at least saved 
 this volume from including a description of another 
 sordid, dull career of flippancy and vice.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 SUSAN ARMINE, LADY BELASYSE 
 
 " Each fool, to low ambition, poorly great, 
 That pines in splendid wretchedness of state, 
 Tir'd in the treach'rous chase, would nobly yield, 
 And, but for shame, like Sylla, quit the field : 
 The demon shame paints strong the ridicule. 
 And whispers close, ' The zvorid shall call you fool.^ " 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Of Lady Belasyse, as of various other of these picture- 
 gallery heroines, history has only recorded a few in- 
 cidents in which she had a share. Her father was Sir 
 WilHam Armine, Bart., who sat in the Long Parlia- 
 ment as member for Cumberland ; her mother was 
 Lady Anne Poulet, daughter of the Marquis of Win- 
 chester. Sir William Armine died in 1658, leaving 
 two daughters, Anne and Susan ; and his widow, a 
 few years later, married John, Baron Belasyse. 
 
 While the family of Belasyse was flourishing their 
 name was spelled in at least half a dozen different 
 ways — Bellassis, Bellasys, Bellowsesse, Belasyse, being 
 a few, — the most correct of which seems to be that of 
 Belasyse, which has been adopted here. 
 
 The two Armine girls were left, on the death of their 
 father, each with an income of ;£iooo a year, which 
 certainly added to their attractions. They were not 
 good-looking, but what was lost in classical feature 
 was gained in buoyancy and vivacity of expression. 
 
 172
 
 Susan Armine, Lady Bei.asysk, ah Sr. Catherine 
 
 [to face i'A(;e 172
 
 SUSAN ARMINE 173 
 
 When Lord Belasyse married Lady Armine he 
 already had a son, Henry, who had just become a 
 widower, not that he was anything but a young man, 
 for his marriage had been contracted in boyhood. 
 The idea of Henry Belasyse marrying his stepmother's 
 daughter Susan did not arise for some time ; when it 
 did it had its birth in expediency. The young man 
 was a wild, quarrelsome, swashbuckling fellow, whose 
 qualities may have been those to attract a very young 
 girl, who often thinks bravery the beginning and 
 ending of worth if she is considering her future hus- 
 band, Henry was well liked by Sir John Reresby, 
 and probably possessed that generosity of tempera- 
 ment which often goes with recklessness ; if so, he 
 did not display such a noble quality when making his 
 second marriage. 
 
 His extravagance in every way landed him in serious 
 difficulties, and when he applied to his father for 
 help he received advice rather than assistance, and as 
 usual the advice was unwelcome. " The only thing 
 for you to do, my son, is to marry an heiress." 
 
 An heiress ! What heiress should he marry ? There 
 was only one woman in the world for him, and that was 
 Gertrude Pierrepoint. He would marry her and no 
 one else ! And she was not an heiress. However, when 
 Gertrude shook her head at him, when his creditors 
 sought him with unfailing regularity, and his father 
 only repeated his advice with added details, Henry 
 began to think better of it. He looked at Susan with 
 an appraising eye : she was irregular in feature, had 
 an ugly mouth, and was not fair, — but she had an 
 income equal to ;^5000 of the present-day money ! 
 
 Lord and Lady Belasyse arranged the whole affair.
 
 174 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 It is not easy to say how old Susan was, but she could 
 scarcely have been over twenty, if she was not some 
 years younger than that. She must have been young, 
 for she seems to have had no voice in the matter 
 when, in 1664, she was married to a man who told every 
 one quite plainly that though he married Susan he 
 would never desist from his pursuit of Gertrude, whom 
 he would not give up as long as he lived. The foolish 
 part of this was that Gertrude did not care a fig for 
 him. She not only did not respond to his advances, 
 but showed an entire indifference to his wooing. It 
 may have been that very indifference that kept 
 Belasyse chained to her ; he went where she went, 
 contrived to see her in and out of season, and swore 
 that though he could not marry her no one else should. 
 And she, like the good girl that she was, " gave him 
 no encouragement in the least, but was exactly 
 virtuous, which made this humour of his the more 
 extravagant." Thus wrote his close friend and con- 
 stant companion Sir John Reresby. 
 
 Poor Susan's married life must have been anything 
 but pleasant, though there was probably something 
 exciting in it, as her husband's name is only mentioned 
 in the chronicles of the times as either killing some 
 one or trying to get killed. Nothing gave him such 
 joy as a duel. 
 
 Soon after his marriage a rumour went the round 
 of aristocratic circles that William Russell, second son 
 of the Earl of Bedford (who later married Rachel 
 Wriothesley, and was so foully murdered by the malice 
 of Charles and the brutal insistence of his tool Jeffries), 
 was desiring to marry Gertrude Pierrepoint. This 
 rumour aroused all the truculence of that very trucu-
 
 SUSAN ARMINE 175 
 
 lent young man Henry Belasyse, and he promptly 
 invented a story that WilHam Russell had said insulting 
 things of him and his friends. Having made this up 
 to his satisfaction, he at once went into a great rage 
 over it, and sent his friend John Reresby with a 
 challenge to the innocent suitor. Russell was thunder- 
 struck at the accusation and seemed to lose sight of 
 the challenge and possible fight in his concern at the 
 idea that Belasyse could even think that he had de- 
 preciated him, and he naturally protested that he 
 had never in his life spoken ill of Sir Henry or any of 
 his friends. Reresby knew that what he said was true 
 and went back to argue the jealous man into some sense 
 if possible. Fortunately Henry allowed himself to 
 be persuaded, not so much because of Reresby's elo- 
 quence as because he had heard that the rumour was 
 untrue. In spite of his bellicose actions and fiery 
 protestations he never gained the approval of Miss 
 Pierrepoint, who, though not until after his death, 
 married the Marquis of Halifax. 
 
 Years later, indeed in 1680, Lady Russell refers to 
 this threatened duel when she includes in a note to 
 her husband the information that a friend tells her 
 that Lady Halifax (Gertrude Pierrepoint) has lost no 
 beauty in the country, and she (the friend) wishes 
 particularly that he should know it. 
 
 Henry Belasyse had been made a Knight of the 
 Bath at the Restoration, and had at once joined a 
 band of young men whose names were soon known 
 all over London for their unrestrained wildness. One 
 of the worst acts of his life took place at the beginning 
 of 1662, when he went with a party thief -hunting to 
 the district around Waltham Cross. His companions
 
 176 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 were Charles, Lord Buckhurst (afterwards Lord Dorset), 
 and his brother, Edward Sackville ; his own cousin, 
 John Belasyse, and Thomas Wentworth. To try to 
 defeat the aims of footpads and highwaymen was well 
 enough, but to do it in a reckless, adventurous fashion, 
 intent upon capturing some one whatever happened, 
 was a dangerous experiment. They succeeded in 
 catching and killing an innocent tanner named Hoppy, 
 whose pockets they thoughtfully rifled. When they 
 were soon after apprehended they seemed surprised 
 that they should be regarded as guilty of anything but 
 a regrettable mistake. They had taken the man for a 
 robber, and regarded the money in his pocket as stolen 
 property ; no one could call such an act on their part 
 either robbery or murder ! The grand jury at the 
 trial found a bill for manslaughter only, and so far 
 as the evidence goes the guilty ones were acquitted 
 on their excuse. 
 
 We find Sir Henry in connection with another duel 
 making mischief when drunk, repeating a matter told 
 him in confidence about the Duke of Buckingham by 
 John Reresby, which caused " the Duke to frown 
 upon " the latter. Whereupon Reresby went to 
 Belasyse, who owned to saying something about the 
 matter when in his cups, and oftered to deny stoutly 
 that he had heard the gossip from his friend, fixing it 
 upon another man who had also repeated the story 
 and could not be troubled by the Duke's anger. 
 Upon which Reresby answered with the veiled threat 
 that it became him so ill, being the Duke's officer, to 
 appear to reflect on his captain, that if the gossip 
 was laid to his charge it must cause a quarrel, and 
 " Sir Henry Belasyse was the last man I desired to
 
 SUSAN ARMINE 177 
 
 have a difference with." Sir Henry perjured his soul 
 bravely, and smoothed matters, though the Duke still 
 suspected his inferior officer. Shortly after this the 
 Duke was in disgrace with his King, and Belasyse took 
 him home and hid him in his own house, running 
 great hazard for him in this event. Buckingham could 
 scarcely have been a good companion for a young 
 wife, though he could sometimes ape a virtue he did 
 not feel. 
 
 There was at least one more duel which Belasyse 
 had to fight, for he was evidently determined to die 
 by the sword, and was indifferent as to whether it was 
 the sword of a friend or a foe. On July 28th, 1667, 
 he and his fast friend Tom Porter dined with Sir 
 Robert Carr, drinking just enough to make him talk 
 nonsense and think himself a very fine fellow. His 
 friend Tom was in the same condition, and the two 
 argued together in such loud voices that the other 
 guests turned to look at them with questioning won- 
 der. " Are they quarrelling ? " said some one aloud. 
 
 " Quarrelling ? " shouted Henry. " I would have 
 you know that I never quarrel. I strike ! And you 
 may take that as a rule of mine." 
 
 " How ! Strike ! " replied Tom Porter. " I should 
 like to see the man in England who would dare to 
 strike me ! " 
 
 He had not to wait for the fulfilment of his wish. 
 His dear friend at once gave him a sounding box on 
 the ear, and out flashed Porter's sword. But re- 
 straining hands pulled the two silly men apart, and 
 after struggling and talking Porter went away. In 
 the street he met Dryden the poet, and told him, 
 excitedly, all that had happened, saying that he was 
 
 M
 
 178 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 resolved to fight Belasyse at once, for if he waited 
 until the next day they could not help but patch up 
 the quarrel, and then the blow would rest upon him. 
 So he begged Dryden to lend him the boy who was 
 with him to stand at Sir Robert Carr's door to watch 
 which way Belasyse went, and then run to tell him. 
 He himself went to waste the time at a coffee-house, 
 and presently in ran the boy, saying that the baronet's 
 coach was coming. Porter walked out of the coffee- 
 house and stopped the coach, ordering his friend to 
 come out of it. 
 
 " Why ? " said Sir Henry. " You will not strike as 
 I come out, will you ? " 
 
 " No," replied Porter grimly. 
 
 So Belasyse stepped into the road and flung away 
 the scabbard of his sword. 
 
 " Are you ready ? " cried Porter. And then they 
 started fighting, surrounded by friends who had been 
 lounging in the coffee-house. In a few minutes they 
 were both wounded, and Belasyse was so badly hurt 
 that he called Tom to him, while dropping his sword. 
 Supporting himself by his friend's shoulder, he kissed 
 him, saying : 
 
 " Go, Tom, save yourself, for you have hurt me 
 to death ; but I will make shift to stand upon my 
 legs until you are safely away, then no one will stop 
 you ; and I would not have you get into trouble for 
 what you have done." 
 
 Tom told Belasyse that he too was wounded and 
 could not go far. So both men were taken to their 
 homes in very bad case. Tom Porter recovered and 
 fled, but Belasyse lingered for nine days before he 
 died. Of the event Pepys says : " It is pretty to see
 
 SUSAN ARMINE 179 
 
 how the world talks of them as a couple of fools that 
 killed one another out of love." Reresby, who truly 
 mourned his friend, notes bitterly that Buckingham 
 (again in Royal favour) neither went to Belasyse in his 
 illness nor sent to inquire of him, though he owed him 
 much, and all for some slight unwarranted jealousy 
 which he felt about the Countess of Shrewsbur}^ 
 
 Susan, who had by this time developed into a 
 woman of noble proportions, was now, in the flush 
 of young womanhood, a widow with one son, and 
 after her mourning was over she became a well-known 
 figure at Court. 
 
 Burnet and Granger both emphasize the fact that 
 she was not beautiful ; " she was one of the least 
 handsome women who appeared at Court," but she 
 " was remarkable for a vivacity which seems to have 
 supplied the place, and answered all the purposes of 
 beauty." The Duke of York, who was won far more 
 quickly by wit than by prettiness, was soon attracted 
 by her, and hovered in her vicinity, that he could 
 enjoy her bright repartees. When his Duchess died, 
 in 1 67 1, he found consolation in Susan's society, and 
 gradually began to rely upon her judgment and 
 sympathy. Thus when the first rumour arose that 
 the new Duchess would be a Princess of Modena a 
 contemporary wrote : " Though the women will not 
 beheve but that my Lady Belasyse shall be the person, 
 His Royal Highness, wheresoever he meets her, enter- 
 taining her with a particular esteem." 
 
 As a mere matter of business it was recognized by 
 all that James must take a second wife, and while his 
 brother and his ministers were searching Europe for 
 a bride he was making ardent love to Susan Belasyse.
 
 i8o FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 She may have withstood him at first, but in the end 
 she capitulated, though not until, having taken a hint 
 from the Duke's previous history, she had secured from 
 him a written promise of marriage. The one thing 
 which stood between them personally was the fact 
 that Lady Belasyse was a thoughtful Protestant, while 
 James was certain that Roman Catholicism was the 
 only true faith. He did his utmost to. convert her, 
 and she retaliated with such good result that papists 
 took alarm. Her late husband's family were all 
 Catholics, and Lord Belasyse learned of the serious 
 nature of the Duke's infatuation through some words 
 used by Susan. He was greatly perturbed and deter- 
 mined to upset the scheme. The Duke of York had 
 been going to Susan's house over-often in the warmth 
 of his love — that love which had been rechauffeed so 
 many times that surely all flavour had gone from it ! — 
 so the lady's relatives and friends took it upon them- 
 selves to talk seriously to her. When the advice be- 
 came reproach, and then dictation, Susan lost her 
 temper and her discretion, and replied angrily that 
 if the Duke did come often to her house she could 
 prove that his intentions were honourable. 
 
 If she had been a weaker person her boast might 
 have been passed over with indifference, but she had 
 a reputation for being determined, " intractable " 
 Bishop Burnet called it ; so her worthy and zealous 
 father-in-law felt that if she gained a dominant in- 
 fluence over the future King of England, it would be 
 all over with papacy. In his alarm he went to Charles 
 and laid the whole affair before him, making zeal for 
 the King and for the honour of the Duke his excuse. 
 
 Charles determined to nip that romance, if not in
 
 SUSAN ARMINE i8i 
 
 the bud, certainly before it came to its full growth, 
 so he sent for his brother and first had a long talk 
 with him and then laid upon him his commands. 
 " It was too much," he said, " that James had played 
 the fool once ; he was not to be allowed to do it a 
 second time, and at his age ! " 
 
 Feeling assured of his brother's obedience he next 
 attacked the lady. Here he met with a greater resist- 
 ance, for Susan flatly refused to give up the written 
 document she had obtained from James ; though how 
 any woman could wish to marry a man with such a repu- 
 tation as he had acquired it is difficult to understand. 
 For the sake of a few baubles, for a few years of sham 
 magnificence, to accept such a terrible life as had 
 been led by Anne, inwardly beset with fears and 
 dismay, with diseased children dying almost as soon 
 as born, and if they lived a year or two passing their 
 baby days in pain and suffering — to risk all this in 
 exchange for a wholesome existence in wealth and 
 comfort shows, if not the depravity of the individual, 
 at least the horror of the social system which could 
 make it possible that any woman should contemplate, 
 let alone intrigue for it. 
 
 Susan clung to her bond, and the King was deter- 
 mined to have it ; so that at last it came, not to com- 
 mands, but to threats, and to save herself from the 
 results of the King's anger, which at their worst would 
 have been mercy compared with the position of 
 Duchess of York, Lady Belasyse made a compromise 
 for the sake of her honour. She would give up the 
 bond itself, on condition that she was allowed to keep 
 an attested copy of it. After some hesitation this was 
 granted, and the Duke was free to seek as a wife a
 
 1 82 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 young girl whom he jocularly described as a play- 
 fellow for his twelve-year-old daughter. Charles was 
 pleased to show his approbation of Susan's sacrifice 
 by making her, in 1674, ^ peeress, with the title of 
 Baroness Belasyse of Osgodby, as she had succeeded 
 to half her father's estates. 
 
 Susan showed her good sense by accepting her defeat 
 in a philosophic spirit and becoming one of the young 
 Duchess's ladies. Later she was present at the birth 
 of that son about whose parentage there were so many 
 divergent and violent opinions. 
 
 It is said by Mrs. Jameson that Susan married in 
 1683 a man named Fortrey, who predeceased her, but 
 we find no mention of him elsewhere. Henry Belasyse, 
 her son, who succeeded to his father's title, died in 
 1690, leaving a widow who afterwards married the 
 Duke of Richmond, son to Louise de Keroualle. As 
 to Susan's death. Swift wrote to Stella, under date 
 of March, 171 2 : "You know old Lady Belasyse is 
 dead at last ? She has left Lord Berkeley of Stratton 
 one of her executors, and it will be of great advantage 
 to him, they say about j/^io,ooo."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY, COUNTESS OF 
 NORTHUMBERLAND 
 
 " Mira can lay her beauty by, 
 Take no advantage of the eye ; 
 Quit all that Lely's art can take, 
 And yet a thousand captives make." 
 
 Edmund Waller. 
 
 Thomas Wriothesley, the fourth Earl of South- 
 ampton, " that right noble and virtuous peer whose 
 loyalty was not more exemplary than his love to his 
 country," had two daughters by his first marriage, 
 and four by his second. His second daughter was 
 Rachel, Lady Russell, wife of that Earl so recklessly 
 put to death — murdered, WilHam Hi's Parhament 
 named it — by Charles H. The only girl who survived 
 of the four younger daughters was Elizabeth, the 
 subject of this sketch. 
 
 The first notable event in those days in a girl's life 
 was her marriage ; until that occurred she was not 
 heard of, and her education seems to have been 
 generally of a negative kind. To talk French was the 
 one necessary accomplishment, but even that many 
 of them could not do. Had the intelligence of the 
 women of the Stuart period been trained in their 
 childhood, there would have been fewer immoral 
 
 183
 
 1 84 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 and unmoral women. But the poor girl-child was not 
 many years in the world before her parents began to 
 seek a husband for her, that they might settle her in 
 some one else's hands. Thus the Earl of Southampton 
 contracted his daughter Audrey in marriage to Joscelyn, 
 Lord Percy, the son of the tenth Earl of Northumber- 
 land. But before the marriage took place the child 
 died while she was thirteen, causing the prospective 
 bridegroom's father to remark that he felt great regret 
 at her death because she was of a nature, temper, 
 and humour likely to make an excellent wife. It 
 seems to have been the one idea in society then, that 
 girls should marry young and become excellent 
 wives. As there was also the general idea that for 
 this end neither brains, learning, nor training were 
 necessary, only a pleasing face, a pleasing manner, 
 and a fortune, it is not to be wondered at that when 
 the girl-wife grew older her starved capacities and 
 nature revenged themselves upon the stupidity of her 
 elders and developed the lower qualities inherent 
 in all. 
 
 As the youthful Joscelyn was now left without a 
 prospective wife, the only thing to do was to look 
 for some one else, and when so many excellent family 
 arrangements had been made, it was surely a pity to 
 break through them. Lord Southampton had other 
 daughters, and so Elizabeth was in turn betrothed 
 to this scion of the Percy line, who received her the 
 more eagerly that she was now sole heiress to the 
 estates of her mother's father, Lord Chichester. 
 
 The two young people, he of the mature age of 
 eighteen and she fourteen, were married in 1662, 
 though they did not set up house together until a year
 
 F.LI/.AHF.TH WrmiuKSI KY, ColNTESS OK NORTHUMBERLAND 
 
 {After Leiy') 
 
 [to face fACE 184
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 185 
 
 or two later. Their first child, a girl named Elizabeth, 
 was born in 1666, and she was followed by a boy and 
 another girl, the latter dying almost as soon as she 
 drew breath. At this point the history of the young 
 wife, who had just become the Countess of North- 
 umberland, gets confused, one writer saying that she 
 had a long illness consequent upon the loss of her 
 children and was taken abroad by her husband to 
 recover. But there is a letter written by Henry Sidney, 
 of whom we have already heard and who still further 
 figures in these pages, which throws a very different 
 complexion upon the going abroad, and gives definite 
 form to a rumour w^hich connected her name with 
 that of the King. 
 
 The birth of Elizabeth's third child, its death and 
 that of the little boy took place in 1669, and in 
 February, 1670, Sidney wrote to her sister, then Lady 
 Vaughan, but later Lady Russell, that " my Lady 
 Northumberland is grown so flippant since her adven- 
 ture at Court (of which she has already informed 
 your Ladyship), that now she trips it every day 
 in St. James's Park, meets the person you wot of, 
 and ogles and curtsies do pass at that rate that her 
 friends, knowing not what to make of it, only pray 
 that her honour may be safe." The " person " was 
 Charles H, and her friends, particularly her hus- 
 band, were so alarmed that he whisked his wife off 
 to go ostensibly on the Continent. That Lord 
 Northumberland was in no great anxiety about her 
 physical health is proved by the fact that he settled 
 Elizabeth in Paris and went off by himself for a tour 
 to Italy. There, poor fellow, he contracted a fever, 
 of which he died at Turin in May, 1670. With him
 
 1 86 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 ended the long line of the House of Northumberland, 
 excepting for his little daughter. 
 
 Infant marriages had a bad effect upon the standard 
 of life in that they cheapened marriage. No sooner 
 did a man or woman die than his or her bereaved 
 partner looked around for a new mate ; with many the 
 marriage state awakened no more sentiment than any 
 other business arrangement, and though there is no 
 record left us of the ideas and feelings of the young 
 widowed Countess, there is little doubt but that 
 many suitors at once came forward for her hand, for 
 six thousand a year in those days was a very good 
 additional income. She kept some establishment 
 in Paris, but came back to England soon after her 
 husband's death. 
 
 There is an absurd story told in the Hatton corre- 
 spondence of how Harry Savile, brother to the Marquis 
 of Halifax and Vice-Chamberlain to Charles, made 
 her an offer of his heart. The Sunderlands had a 
 number of people staying with them at Althorp, 
 among them being Savile and the Countess. One 
 night, when the house was all quiet, Savile, passing 
 the lady's room, saw the door open, so went in and 
 up to her bedside, " and there he calls Madam ! 
 Madam ! till he wakens her, and says that he came to 
 acquaint her with a passion he had long had, in the 
 dark, for he durst not own it to her in the light. 
 She, being mightily amazed to hear his voice, rung 
 a bell by her bedside ; upon which presently her 
 women in the next room began to stir. He begged 
 her not to discover him, and so went away." The 
 Countess went to Lady Ashley's room and told her 
 about it ; they then sent Will Russell, who went to
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 187 
 
 Harry Savile and warned him to quit the house at 
 once. In the morning he and Lord Sunderland 
 rode after him to fight him, but the King prevented 
 it, and the fooHsh young man wisely disappeared for a 
 time. 
 
 Mrs. Jameson, who loved sentiment better than 
 history, suggests that the flirtation with the King 
 happened now, only the advances were all on one side, 
 and the lady to preserve her self-respect fled again 
 to Paris. But there is no evidence to be found, 
 and it is not unlikely that this little Royal affair 
 began and ended early in the year. No woman could 
 look at the King with any favour without at once 
 having her reputation somewhat tarnished, and there 
 seemed to be with these pretty women a regular 
 progression of events in these matters ; for first 
 they allowed Charles to ogle them, and then James. 
 Lady Northumberland was no exception to the rule. 
 It was said that she aspired to fill the place so lately 
 vacated by the Duchess Anne. Charles, James 
 himself, Louis XIV with all his counsellors, and 
 Louis de Keroualle, all were hunting through Europe 
 for a suitable mate for the Duke, and all the Catholic 
 ladies at the Court were preening themselves on 
 their eligibility, for had not the Duke said that he 
 would only marry for love ? Thus there was nothing 
 surprising that the Countess of Northumberland's 
 name was included with the rest, but the irresponsible 
 and changeable Duke of Buckingham put the matter 
 into written words, and so gave us the evidence. 
 Knowing of Elizabeth's ambition, he offered to 
 persuade the King to command James to marry her. 
 In this scheme he included a proposition that the
 
 1 88 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 infant Elizabeth, Lady Percy, should be by the King 
 betrothed to Lord Harry (Barbara's second son), the 
 Duke o£ Grafton. 
 
 Elizabeth became so magnificent in dress as to set 
 all tongues wagging, and seeing that it was now 
 generally known that Lady Belasyse had definitely 
 withdrawn her claim, every one said that His Royal 
 Highness would marry the Countess of Northumber- 
 land. This went so far that it was calmly stated 
 that the idea was much liked by all the people and the 
 Duke's servants. Elizabeth's sister, Lady Russell, 
 hinted probably at the same idea when she wrote that 
 the Countess could not decide some important 
 matter until she saw the Duke of York, and that the 
 report which she would then receive " which will be 
 to-morrow, Friday, will certainly make her deter- 
 
 mine." 
 
 The King, however, as has been said, had no desire 
 that his brother " should make a fool of himself a 
 second time," and a little later the Duke was married 
 by proxy to Mary of Modena, the announcement 
 being made to James when surrounded by his friends. 
 He was talking in the drawing-room, when the 
 French ambassador (Monsieur de Croissy) brought 
 the letters in and told the news ; the Duke turned 
 about and said, " Then I am a married man ! " 
 and it was explained to all present that it was the 
 Princess of Modena. 
 
 The King, however, was very soft-hearted ; he 
 did not like to hurt these pretty women by autocratic 
 measures ; so knowing that Ralph Montagu had 
 set his heart on marrying the Countess, he promised 
 his consent to that marriage, and that he would raise
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 189 
 
 Montagu as high in dignity as her first husband had 
 been. As for EHzabeth, she felt that now the only- 
 thing to do was to marry some one, and yet she 
 hesitated, for marriage did not mean all gain to her. 
 A clause in her late husband's will commanded 
 that if she should remarry her little daughter should 
 be taken from her and put into the hands of the 
 Dowager Countess, a woman of strong will and over- 
 bearing disposition, and Elizabeth felt that she could 
 only agree to run the risk of this if she could feel that 
 King and Parliament could be called on to defend a 
 mother's right. 
 
 Ralph Montagu had been paying her his addresses 
 since the death of the Earl ; he had been made 
 English ambassador at Paris in 1669, his entry into 
 that city being so magnificent that it has scarce ever 
 since been equalled. He was that Montagu who 
 had unconsciously stirred the Comte de Gramont 
 to fresh exertions in the pursuit of Mrs. Middleton, 
 and who, according to the lively Frenchman, was 
 " no very dangerous rival on account of his person, 
 but very much to be feared for his assiduity, the 
 acuteness of his wit, and for some other talents 
 which are of importance when a man is once per- 
 mitted to display them." 
 
 One of Montagu's talents was the power of telling 
 at sight which woman had petticoats strong enough 
 to drag him upwards if he held on to them. From 
 being Master of the Horse to Anne of York, he took 
 the same post under Queen Catherine. He made 
 himself persona grata with the Duchess of Orleans, 
 was present at her death, and did all he could to 
 investigate the charge of poison. In Paris he could
 
 190 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 not fail to meet the Countess of Northumberland, 
 and he used all the arts of sympathy and a show of 
 loyal friendship to attract her feelings. 
 
 In the winter of 1672 she went to Aix, and he fol- 
 lowed her there, intending, if his suit did not prosper, 
 to go on a journey into Italy just to prove to the 
 world that he went abroad for pleasure and not for the 
 sake of a pretty woman. However, if he did not get 
 yea, he also did not get nay, and he returned to 
 Paris in the wake of the Countess. 
 
 Elizabeth was one of the unfortimate children 
 who had not even learned French, and now, though she 
 lived among French people, she would not trouble to 
 master their language. Madame de la Fayette com- 
 ments on this when writing to Madame de Sevigne in 
 April, 1673, and also upon the fact that she seems 
 to have lost her good looks. " Madame de North- 
 umberland came to see me yesterday . . . she seems 
 to be a woman who has been beautiful, but who does 
 not retain a single sign of it upon her face, nor the 
 slightest air of youth ; I was surprised at it ; she 
 was also very badly dressed, without grace ; indeed, I 
 was not at all dazzled. She seemed to understand all 
 that was said very well, or rather all that I said, 
 for I was alone. . . . Montagu asked me if she 
 might come to see me, for we have often spoken of 
 her together. He is by no means ashamed of his 
 wooing, and appears full of hope." Whatever she 
 was then, the Countess recovered her beauty, for 
 Evelyn speaks of her in 1683 as " the most beautiful 
 Countess of Northumberland." 
 
 A month later an old attachment on Montagu's 
 part for the Duchesse de Brissac nearly broke off
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 191 
 
 the match by reason of the Countess's jealousy. 
 " Montagu has gone away," wrote Madame de la 
 Fayette. " It is said that all his hopes are overthrown ; 
 I believe something has transpired to upset the 
 lady." 
 
 At this point the Countess came home to make her 
 attack upon the heart of James, Duke of York, and 
 in a short time Montagu followed her to England. 
 The King's promise and good will weighed heavily 
 in the matter, and Elizabeth went down to Litchfield, 
 her own estate in Hampshire, in August, 1673. 
 There were many rumours, first that she was married, 
 then that she was not, but at last the deed was done. 
 Lord Montagu settled ;£2000 a year upon his son, 
 and Elizabeth settled her estate upon her husband for 
 his life, if she had no other children. The day after 
 the wedding the Dowager Countess sent to claim her 
 grandchild. Elizabeth refused to part with her, and 
 the expected battle began. Rumour betrothed the 
 little one straight away to Lord Harry (Grafton) and 
 made the Countess a Duchess. 
 
 Before the second month of the marriage had passed 
 violent quarrels broke out between the pair, as 
 Elizabeth learned in some way that Montagu had 
 " bought her of her maid for ^500 per annum," 
 and in consequence of this she demanded a separa- 
 tion. But the matter was patched up somehow, 
 and in December we find that she was ill through 
 worry — her husband having so far forgotten himself 
 as to start a brawl in the King's drawing-room, 
 for which he was sent to the Tower. While he was 
 standing in a circle round the King the Duke of 
 Buckingham came in hurriedly and pulled Montagu
 
 192 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 by the shoulder that he might make way, whereupon 
 arose a childish dispute — " I will pass ! " " You shall 
 not ! " — which was followed by a challenge from 
 Montagu. His incarceration did not last long, 
 and he was released, under order to remain confined 
 in his own house until the King's pleasure should be 
 known. 
 
 The Countess must have been a delicate woman, 
 as in 1680 she was so very ill that every one thought 
 she would die, and a few years later she did die, 
 when only about forty years old. 
 
 The dispute about her daughter became acute, 
 and those interested had to appear before the Lord 
 Chancellor. The old Countess and her father. 
 Lord Suffolk, and Ralph Montagu argued the matter 
 there, and the mother and grandmother, the two 
 Lady Northumberlands, then met at Northumberland 
 House, and argued the proposition already laid down. 
 The Countess offered to give up her right to the 
 possession of the child on condition that she might 
 have her on a visit for ten days or a month sometimes, 
 and she was determined to bind her mother-in-law 
 not to contract Elizabeth in marriage without her 
 consent. On the part of herself and Mr. Montagu 
 she undertook that they would enter into the same 
 bonds, and would not arrange any marriage without 
 the grandmother's consent. The old woman refused 
 all compromise, and would not even listen with 
 any patience. Lady Russell concludes her remarks 
 upon this matter with : " I hope for an accommodation. 
 My sister urges, it is hard her child [that if she have 
 no other children must be her heir] should be disposed 
 of without her consent ; and in my judgment it is
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 193 
 
 hard." How the details of this matter ended it is 
 not easy to say, but the grandmother kept the 
 child and married her as many times as she 
 thought fit. 
 
 It was not so long after her marriage, two or three 
 years, that the Countess of Northumberland — for 
 she retained her title until her husband became the 
 Earl of Montagu — had to bear with her husband's 
 infidelity. Her rival was Barbara Cleveland, who had 
 at last left the Court of Charles, and on settling 
 in Paris was much offended that the French ladies 
 did not regard her as a person of importance ; so 
 as it was impossible for her to live without gaiety — 
 or without a lover — she consoled herself by carrying 
 on an intrigue with Ralph Montagu, who had again 
 been appointed Ambassador Extraordinary to Louis 
 XIV. Barbara had her daughter, the Countess of 
 Sussex, with her, a girl for whom her father, or 
 supposed father, Charles, had much affection, and 
 who had pleased him by becoming a devoted adorer 
 of Louise de Keroualle. This latter fact infuriated 
 Barbara, who made many ineffectual attempts to 
 part the girl from the hated rival. At last, on the 
 plea of going away, she seems to have succeeded, 
 and for better security she placed her daughter as 
 inmate of a convent. While Barbara herself was absent 
 from Paris on a visit, Montagu, it is said on Charles's 
 instruction, persuaded Lady Sussex to leave the 
 convent and take up her abode at the English Em- 
 bassy. 
 
 The Duchess was furious on her return, suspected, 
 wrongly or rightly, that Montagu had transferred 
 his affections from herself to her child, and set to 
 
 N
 
 194 TAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 work to ruin the ambassador. She revealed all his 
 political intrigues to Charles, and told him among 
 many other things that Montagu despised both 
 him (Charles) and his brother, and wished with all his 
 heart that Parliament would send them both travelling, 
 for the King, he said, was a dull, governable fool, 
 and the Duke a wilful fool. " So that it were yet 
 better to have you than him, but that you always 
 choose a greater beast than yourself to govern you." 
 That, of course, lost Montagu his post and all favour, 
 and he found himself shunned when he rushed back 
 to England to save himself. 
 
 Lady Montagu's four children, like herself, seem 
 not to have been strong, and they are only noted in 
 correspondence when they have been ill ; thus on 
 one occasion we find Lady Montagu fearing small- 
 pox for her son, and on another Lady Russell writes : 
 " I hear by my sister Montagu she found a sickly 
 family in Paris : her daughter in a languishing con- 
 dition, worn to nothing almost by a fever, which has 
 hung about her for the last six months." 
 
 Lady Montagu — her husband had succeeded his 
 father as Lord Montagu in 1683 — must have felt con- 
 siderable pain and trouble over the affairs of her 
 eldest daughter, for the grandmother was true to her 
 determination to dispose of the child's hand as the 
 fancy took her. Lady Cleveland had schemed vigor- 
 ously in 1675-6 to obtain the little Elizabeth as 
 bride to her eldest boy, the Duke of Southampton, 
 though four or five years earlier he had been married 
 to Mary, daughter of Sir Henry Wood. But the 
 Duchess, with her airy ideas of morality, was confident 
 that she could override all legal obstructions, and
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 195 
 
 that may have been so, but she had the redoubtable 
 old Countess with whom to deal, who both outwitted 
 and defeated her. It is stated by one authority that 
 Charles II in 1679 demanded the hand of Elizabeth 
 Percy for his natural son by the Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth, but there is no corroboration of this, and as the 
 girl was then thirteen and the little Duke of Richmond 
 only six, it seems scarcely possible that such an arrange- 
 ment should have been suggested. This Royal honour 
 is also said to have been refused. 
 
 It is impossible to say whether, in regulating this 
 child's life, the old Countess was actuated by spite 
 against her daughter-in-law, by a grim determination 
 to rule, or whether match-making was an irresistible 
 occupation to her. It was not ambition which moved 
 her, for the men she chose as fit mates for her grand- 
 daughter were in no way superior in birth to the 
 little girl, one was not even her equal ; and it could 
 not have been a desire for wealth, for Elizabeth 
 was too rich herself to need more money. Whatever 
 the reason, a few weeks after Charles's ofFer is said 
 to have been refused, the child was married to " the 
 ugliest and saddest creature," Henry Cavendish, the 
 Earl of Ogle, a sickly boy of fifteen, heir to the Duke 
 of Newcastle. It was arranged that this undesirable 
 young husband should take the name of Percy and 
 travel for two years before settling down with his 
 wife, who would then be fifteen. Fortunately for 
 every one, except, perhaps, himself, he died when 
 half-way through his continental travels, thus giving 
 to the old Countess the joyful occupation of finding 
 another grandson-in-law. 
 
 This time she chose some one very different, but
 
 196 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 even more objectionable, a certain Thomas Thynne, 
 known to his contemporaries and in history as Tom 
 of Ten Thousand because of his wealth, a man 
 who was so stupid that he was thus lampooned by 
 Rochester : 
 
 " Who'd be a wit in Dryden's cudgelled skin, 
 Or who'd be rich and senseless like Tom Thynne ? " 
 
 In negotiating this marriage the old Countess 
 and those who helped her, for there is more than a hint 
 of accomplices, did a shameful thing. She could only 
 bring the marriage about by lying on every point 
 to the child who, being still in mourning, was not 
 allowed to receive suitors personally. As soon as the 
 date of her mourning expired she was married with the 
 following results, told by Sir Charles Lyttelton : 
 
 " My Lady Ogle went up yesterday with her 
 grandmother to the old Change, and there slipt 
 from her, and 'tis not yet known who is gone with 
 her, nor whither she is gone. But, last night, Dick 
 Bret came to the King and told him he had waited 
 on him before to acquaint His Majesty that she was 
 not married to Mr. Thynne, but now he was come 
 to tell him she is married to him. The King says 
 she has been unworthily and basely betrayed by 
 her friends." Others to whom Elizabeth dared 
 speak in confidence record that the girl had railed 
 at those who induced her to marry, for they 
 made her believe Tom Thynne had _^20,ooo a 
 year, that he was of high family and was but 
 twenty-three years old. After the ceremony she 
 refused to live with him, and vowed she never 
 would either meet him or allow him to see her.
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 197 
 
 It was also said that Thynne had practically bought 
 her by giving bonds for vast sums of money to her 
 relatives. In addition to all this, this " well-battered 
 rake," as Mr. Thomas Seccombe calls him, was mar- 
 ried or contracted in marriage to a daughter of Lady 
 Trevor. 
 
 The little Elizabeth took refuge with Lady Temple 
 at the Hague, and her distressed mother had sufficient 
 influence to secure a year's respite for her daughter 
 from the mercenary husband and grandmother, during 
 which the married pair were not to meet. 
 
 All this pother was caused by the child's wealth, 
 for she was a very great heiress, holding in her own 
 right six of the oldest baronies of England, those 
 of Percy, Lucy, Poynings, Fitz-Payne, Bryan, and 
 Latimer. As Thynne could not have his bride he 
 claimed her property, and the proctors decided in his 
 favour, while a definite promise was exacted that 
 his wife in name would return at the end of a year 
 to be his wife in reality. 
 
 An unsuccessful suitor for this girl's hand was 
 Count John Philip Konigsmarck, who sent from 
 France two challenges to Thynne by Captain Vratz, 
 one of his followers. Thynne's answer was to send 
 six men over the Channel to murder both Konigs- 
 marck and his men. As this failed, Vratz unsuccessfully 
 tried to bring about a duel between Thynne and 
 himself ; but the affair was actually ended by murder. 
 Vratz with two accomplices shot Thynne when 
 driving down Fleet Street in his coach. Konigsmarck 
 hid, and when found was adjudged as not guilty, 
 while his three tools were hanged. In the southern 
 aisle of Westminster Abbey may still be seen a monu-
 
 198 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 ment to Tom Thynne, who was certainly " no better 
 than he should be," with a representation of the 
 murder chiselled on the front. The legend upon the 
 tomb was so absurdly laudatory, giving him such 
 a virtuous character (Thynne himself must have 
 laughed could he have read it), that it was subsequently 
 removed. There were many rumours about Thynne's 
 death, one being, not unnaturally, that- Lady Ogle had 
 promoted quarrels between the two men on purpose 
 to rid herself of her husband. Swift brought up this 
 scandal in some lampoon years later, when Lady 
 Ogle had become the Duchess of Somerset, and in 
 angry revenge she is said to have gone on her knees 
 to Queen Anne, praying her not to confer a certain 
 bishopric, which he coveted, upon the Dean. 
 
 While these marriages were arranged and disarranged 
 the girl was resentful concerning her mother. She had 
 evidently been so well tutored by her grandmother 
 as to accept her opinions in opposition to those of 
 her own parent. We find the Dowager asserting 
 that if her grand-daughter preferred the addresses of 
 my Lord Ogle to any others she should accept them, 
 and we also find Lady Russell writing to her little 
 niece just after her first marriage, praying that she 
 may have good fortune and know happiness to a good 
 old age, but adding that she could not believe she 
 would have complete happiness while being estranged 
 from her mother, and offering all help in her power 
 towards a reconciliation. " No applications can now 
 be too earnest to obtain her pardon, nor could have 
 been to have prevented the misfortune of her dis- 
 pleasure, whose tender kindness you cannot but be 
 aware of."
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 199 
 
 A few months after Thynne's death Lady Ogle, 
 who had asserted that she absolutely refused again 
 to consider marriage unless she herself approved of 
 the match, was pleased to regard the Duke of Somer- 
 set as a suitor, and after falling ill of the measles 
 and recovering, she married him in 1682. In later 
 life this man was known as " the proud Duke." 
 He never allowed his children to sit down in his 
 presence, and had the roads cleared by outriders 
 when he travelled. " Get out of the way," said one 
 of his outriders to a countryman, " my lord Duke 
 is coming, and does not choose to be looked upon." 
 The man snatched up his pig in a rage, and holding 
 it up at the carriage window, shouted, " But I shall 
 see him, and my pig shall see him too ! " When the 
 Duke had married a second time, and his young 
 wife tapped him with her fan, he remarked sternly : 
 " Madam, my first wife was a Percy, and she never 
 took such a liberty." There is another story told to 
 the effect that he insisted that his two daughters 
 should take turns in standing in the room while he 
 had his afternoon doze in his arm-chair. One day 
 when it was Lady Charlotte's turn she was so tired 
 that she sat down, and her loving father incon- 
 veniently w^oke up. He fixed her with his stern, 
 parental eye, and told her in dreadful voice that 
 he would find means to make her regret her want of 
 decorum. When he died it was found that he had 
 left her in his will, by way of punishment, ^20,000 
 less than her sister received. 
 
 But this is going far from Lady Montagu, whose 
 life was drawing to its close. During the trial of 
 Lord Russell she was in Paris with her two weakly
 
 200 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 children ; and later, when the whole terrible affair 
 was discussed in the first Parliament of William III, 
 and the execution was then denounced as a " murder," 
 we find her writing with loving sympathy to the 
 sister who was thus forced to live over again the agony 
 of her bereavement. Her husband, like her father, 
 built a great house in Bloomsbury, Montagu House, 
 which became in course of time the British Museum, 
 and later was rebuilt. Evelyn speaks of it as a stately 
 and ample palace, and especially praises Verrio's 
 fresco paintings — " the funeral pile of Dido on the 
 staircase, the labours of Hercules, a fight with the 
 Centaurs, his effeminacy with Dejanira and Apo- 
 theosis or reception among the Gods, on the walls 
 and roofs of the great room above." The riot of 
 form and colour, so beloved by those of Stuart times, 
 can be well imagined by those who study the ceilings 
 of the stairway, on their way to see the Beauties 
 of Hampton Court. When Elizabeth died in 1690 
 Lady Russell was much troubled, for she loved her 
 tenderly. She wrote : " There is something in the 
 younger going before me, that I have observed all 
 my life to give a sense I can't describe ; it is harder 
 to be borne than a bigger loss, where there has been 
 spun out a longer thread of life. After above forty 
 years' acquaintance with so amiable a creature, one 
 must needs, in reflecting, bring to remembrance 
 so many engaging endearments as are yet at present 
 embittering and painful." 
 
 Ralph Montagu became notorious by his second 
 marriage, which he made two years after the death of 
 his wife. He chose the lady for her money, and cared
 
 ELIZABETH WRIOTHESLEY 201 
 
 nothing for the fact that her pride and wealth had 
 turned her brain. She was Elizabeth — how this name 
 recurs ! — eldest daughter of Henry Cavendish, the 
 second Duke of Newcastle, and was the widow of the 
 Duke of Albemarle. She declared that she would 
 only marry a monarch, so Montagu, working upon 
 this craze, was introduced to her as the Emperor of 
 China, and married her, always humouring her, one 
 historian says, in her delusion that she was by her 
 marriage an Empress. However, he kept her in such 
 seclusion, confined on the ground floor of Montagu 
 House, that it was rumoured that she was dead and 
 that her death was not made public as her husband 
 wished to retain the ;^7000 a year which would go to 
 some one else at her demise. She, however, outlived 
 him, being served on her knees to the day of her 
 death, which occurred in 1734, when she was ninety- 
 six. 
 
 Lord Ross, who was also anxious to secure this lady 
 for a wife, wrote the following verses upon them 
 both : 
 
 " Insulting rival, never boast 
 Thy conquest lately won ; 
 No wonder if her heart was lost : 
 Her senses first were gone. 
 
 " From one that's under Bedlam's laws 
 What glory can be had ? 
 For love of thee was not the cause ; 
 It proves that she was mad." 
 
 Of the three sons born to Montagu and the 
 Countess of Northumberland only one, John, survived, 
 and succeeded to the dukedom. He showed all his 
 life a singularly bright and gay disposition, being
 
 202 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 without the moral obliquity from which his father 
 suffered. Ralph Montagu was, however, possessed 
 of good and generous qualities to balance those 
 that were less amiable ; indeed, he was the sort of 
 man who made warm friends and bitter enemies.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 HENRIETTA BOYLE, COUNTESS OF ROCHESTER 
 
 " Virtue, like happy nations, has no history." 
 
 This picture, labelled Lady Rochester, was for a long 
 time regarded as the portrait of Elizabeth Mallet, the 
 girl whom Wilmot, Lord Rochester, dragged out of 
 her coach when she was returning from taking supper 
 with Frances Stuart, with the intention of eloping with 
 her, and who, indeed, soon after married that dissolute 
 Earl. It has since been proved, however, to be the 
 picture of Flenrietta — or Marietta — Boyle, the daugh- 
 ter of Richard Boyle, Earl of Burlington and Earl of 
 Cork, and wife of Lawrence Hyde, the second son of 
 the great Clarendon. Lawrence was given the title 
 of Earl of Rochester in 1682, after the death of 
 Wilmot, and while he was at the height of his power 
 under Charles II, being known then as " the great 
 favourite." It is true that Lely died in 1680, but 
 though the portrait must have been painted earlier, 
 the legend upon it would naturally be changed when 
 the original was raised to greater rank. It was in 1665 
 that Lawrence Hyde married Henrietta, receiving 
 with her a dowry of _£i 0,000. 
 
 It would be a relief — were it not attended with 
 great difficulty — at last to find a subject against whom 
 the chroniclers of the day have spoken no ill ; yet 
 having nothing notorious to tell about Lady Rochester, 
 
 203
 
 204 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 they are content with telHng nothing at all, for the 
 life o£ the thoughtful wife and mother does not afford 
 sensational matter for a biography. With such a man 
 as Lawrence Hyde, however, she could scarcely have 
 been a thoroughly happy wife ; he was totally want- 
 ing in that quality which belongs to the person who 
 is master of his soul, and comes but seldom to the 
 man who has been thrust into a position of power 
 by circumstance rather than by achievement — the 
 quality of self-control. His attainments were strength- 
 ened and improved by his diplomatic experience, but 
 he had never learned the art of governing or con- 
 cealing his emotions. In prosperity he was boastful 
 and insolent ; in adversity he was mortified and de- 
 spairing, easily moved to anger, and in anger saying 
 bitter, unforgivable things which he soon forgot, but 
 which the hearers would sometimes remember as long 
 as they lived. He was self-sufficient and impatient ; 
 had the necessary quality for a good orator, but could 
 never successfully take part in a debate, as it was the 
 easiest thing in the world for his opponents to make 
 him angry, and then he lost his head and was entirely 
 at their mercy. Scarcely, it may be imagined, a 
 pleasant man with whom to live, and it is probable 
 that his wife suffered too much from his temper not 
 to efface herself willingly. Yet he seems to have had 
 a great affection for her. 
 
 There is evidence in family letters that she was not 
 strong. Lord Clarendon writes to his brother on one 
 occasion : " God Almighty preserve you and my 
 sister and all yours. I am very much afraid lest this 
 change should make impression on my sister's tender 
 health ; but she has seen such variety of changes in
 
 HeNKIK I lA BOVI.E, Cor.NTESS OK ROCHESTER 
 
 (^Aficr Leiy') 
 
 [to FACl'. I'AGE 'H)i
 
 HENRIETTA BOYLE 205 
 
 our poor family, that I doubt not her wisdom and 
 resolution if her strength do not fail her." 
 
 In spite of her bad health, Lady Rochester always 
 took an interest in the Court and in current events, 
 and did her best to uphold her husband in his posi- 
 tion and his ambitions. Her daughter Henrietta was 
 maid of honour to the Queen, and Lady Rochester was 
 always kind to the young girls she saw growing up 
 around her and would do anything she could to assure 
 their happiness. One of her favourites was Alary 
 Evelyn, the diarist's well-beloved daughter, and Lady 
 Rochester intended suggesting her as maid of honour 
 to Catherine as soon as a vacancy occurred. But 
 Charles died, and a month later the girl also died of 
 smallpox, leaving her father very disconsolate. 
 
 Lady Rochester, however, was not always ill, she 
 carried out her social duties with the pleasant affability 
 of a kindly woman, for there are notes of dinner- 
 parties given by her which by no means suggest that 
 she suffered from permanent bad health. 
 
 As for her family, she bore two sons and four daugh- 
 ters ; the eldest. Lady Anne Hyde, was said to have 
 been very beautiful. Poor child ! long before she was 
 grown to maturity, at an age when our own daughters 
 are still wearing short frocks and pigtails and carrying 
 school satchels, she was married — being not fifteen — 
 to a boy of nineteen, the Earl of Ossory, grandson 
 to the Duke of Ormond. Less than three years later 
 she died, of a second and premature confinement. 
 " To die young and beloved is not a misfortune ; it 
 is to die half an angel," is the fatuous conclusion of 
 Mrs. Jameson upon her death. Most girls would, it 
 may be believed, prefer to be allowed to grow up
 
 2o6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 sensibly and then take their part in hfe than to be 
 made " half an angel " in such circumstances. She 
 seems to have been a vivacious, gentle girl, yet of a 
 superstitious tendency, and it is possible that her 
 imaginative temperament contributed somewhat to 
 the fatal result of her illness. 
 
 She was living with her father-in-law in Dublin 
 Castle, and a short time before her death Dr. John 
 Hough, later Bishop of Worcester, was going to sit 
 down at dinner with the family, when he noticed 
 that there were already twelve people at the table. 
 With his hand on his chair he hesitated, looked round, 
 and refused to make one of the party, upon which 
 Anne, guessing his reason, said, " Sit down, Doctor, it 
 is now too late ; it will make no difference whether 
 you sit or go away." So pressed by all the company 
 he made the thirteenth at dinner. He afterwards 
 said that he believed that the incident affected her, 
 as she was at the time in bad health, subject to fainting 
 fits and hysteria. Dr. Hough also tells another story 
 of her sensitiveness at this period, which shows that 
 death was certainly in her thoughts — which is scarcely 
 wonderful, seeing that she was only seventeen, and 
 called upon to endure for a second time all the agony 
 of maternity, and that at a time when all knowledge 
 was wanting as to how to alleviate such suffering. 
 She dreamed that some one came and knocked upon 
 her chamber door ; which made her call to her servant 
 to see who was there ; the servant not answering, she 
 opened the door herself, and on the threshold saw a 
 lady muffled up in a hood. Drawing the hood aside, 
 the visitor showed herself to be Lady Kildare, who 
 had died recently. Then Lady Anne cried out.
 
 HENRIETTA BOYLE 207 
 
 " Sister, is it you ? Why do you come in this manner ?'* 
 Upon which Lady Kildare answered, " Don't be 
 frightened, for I am come on a very serious affair ; 
 and it is to tell you that you will die very soon." 
 If she believed in omens this dream must have seri- 
 ously affected her. She died on January 25th, 1685 ; 
 but her mother knew nothing of it for a week. Her 
 despairing husband, Lord Ossory, remarried in a few 
 months ! 
 
 A year later Lord Rochester wrote some " Medita- 
 tions " on the anniversary of his daughter's death, 
 part of which runs : "I think I had wrote from 
 hence to her after the time she was dead, with the 
 hopes that my letter would find her better ; with 
 expressions of tenderness for the sickness she had 
 endured ; of wishes for her recovery ; of hopes of 
 being in a short time happy in her company ; of joy 
 and comfort to myself, in being designed to go to 
 live again in the same place with her — I say, I had 
 written all this — to whom ? to my poor dead child ! 
 ... In the midst of this I had my wife lying weak 
 and worn with long and continual sickness, and now, 
 as it were, knocked quite on the head wdth this cruel 
 blow ; — a wife for whom I had all the tenderness 
 imaginable, with whom I had lived long and happily, 
 and had reason to be well pleased ; whose fainting 
 heart and weak spirits I was to comfort and to keep 
 up when I had none myself." To this he added that he 
 was resolved to retire into privacy and contemplation. 
 
 As this last sentence was written it gave the appear- 
 ance that his intended retirement was the result of 
 his grief and his wife's condition. A slightly cynical 
 biographer points out, that he does not add that
 
 2o8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 February 2nd of that year had been fixed by the King 
 for an investigation, suggested by his enemy Hahfax, 
 of the Treasury books under his control, and that the 
 rumour was abroad that he " would be turned out 
 of all and sent to the Tower." However, as Charles was 
 taken ill on the first and died on the sixth of February, 
 Rochester's broken heart was mended and his high 
 resolve was broken in its stead — for ten days later he 
 was made Lord Treasurer. 
 
 King James hoped to make him become a papist, 
 and after some discussion with him appointed a day 
 for a conference. One story goes that Rochester had 
 received notice that he would be asked to resign his 
 post as Treasurer, and he assumed that the cause of 
 this was his religion. The Countess of Rochester was 
 very ill at the time, having after a long interval given 
 birth to a daughter, and wrote to the Queen, begging 
 she would honour her so far as to come and see her, 
 as she wished to discourse upon an important matter. 
 Mary of Modena went and stayed two hours, listening 
 to the Countess's version of what enemies were plotting 
 against them and of the evil that was threatening. 
 During the conversation the Queen said that all the 
 Protestants in the kingdom were turning against them, 
 there were none whom they could trust, and it was 
 necessary to put reliable people into high position. 
 Upon this Anne answered, that her lord was not so 
 wedded to his opinion as not to be ready to be better 
 instructed. This incident was by some said to give rise 
 to the conference, and Burnet adds that a conference 
 on this subject was not proposed until it was well 
 assured that the person for whom it was appointed 
 had decided to join the King's religion.
 
 HENRIETTA BOYLE 209 
 
 Rochester denied that he had any such intention, 
 lamenting that his wife had spoken without his per- 
 mission. As he also received private information that 
 no matter what he decided he could not retain his 
 post, he went to the conference in no conciliatory 
 mood. When it was his turn to speak he spoke " with 
 much heat and spirit, and not without some scorn, 
 becoming more and more vehement ; so that the 
 King in anger broke up the conference." 
 
 In compensation for the loss of his white staff which 
 followed, Rochester received ^4000 a year and several 
 grants. His wife's illness terminated fatally, she dying 
 in her forty-second year at Bath, on April 12th, 1687, 
 being survived twenty-five years by her husband.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 ANNE DIGBY, COUNTESS OF SUNDERLAND 
 
 " A Proteus, ever acting in disguise ; 
 A finished statesman, intricately wise ; 
 A second Machiavel, who soar'd above 
 The little ties of gratitude and love." 
 
 Contemporary Lampoon. 
 
 Lord Bristol had a daughter named Anne, who, 
 judging from most sources, inherited something of 
 her father's love of intrigue, while being probably 
 of stronger intellect than he was. As a girl we are 
 told that she was pretty, delicate-looking, and exceed- 
 ingly fair ; and she was just at the age to enjoy gaiety 
 when her father was replaced in Royal favour after 
 the Restoration. As long as he lived Evelyn was her 
 warm friend and admirer, which goes far to prove, 
 not only her ability, but her amiability ; but she was 
 a " born intrigante," and there is little doubt that she 
 and her husband worked hand-in-hand, sometimes 
 too short-sighted to see the full result of their actions 
 and then eagerly catching at the most likely means of 
 saving themselves from disaster, in which endeavour 
 they failed on rare occasions. Anne found a warm 
 apologist in Mrs. Jameson, who, however, was so 
 partial in her opinions as to be unreliable. She drew 
 the wary lady as something of a saint painfully thread- 
 ing the thorny paths of a very wdcked world, and she 
 
 2IO
 
 A\.\K l)u;i;v. Countkss ok Sunderland 
 (.-//Av- Lely) 
 
 [to face I'AGE L'lO
 
 ANNE DIGBY 211 
 
 kept a discreet silence upon such evidence of levity 
 as is furnished by Pepys, or Barillon, or even Anne's 
 own letters to her husband's uncle, the handsome 
 Henry Sidney, Earl of Romney, who once created 
 such a furore in the household of the Duke and 
 Duchess of York. However, the historian's task is to 
 put down what is written, and to piece together the 
 fragmentary evidences which remain of a life, without 
 blaming or praising. 
 
 We first hear of the girl as a charming addition to 
 the early Court of Charles H, and then as being wooed 
 by Robert Spencer, the second Earl of Sunderland, 
 son of Dorothy, Lady Sunderland, Waller's Sacharissa. 
 This was probably a match which well suited the 
 ambition of the Earl of Bristol, who was seeking on 
 every side to consolidate his position ; whether — in 
 spite of the fortune it would eventually bring — it 
 equally well pleased the bridegroom's family there is 
 reason to doubt, and there came a time when it 
 seems not to have pleased the bridegroom himself, 
 but the actual reason for this has been lost. The 
 date of the wedding was fixed for July, 1663, and on 
 the first day of the month Pepys tells us that though 
 the wedding clothes were made, the portion agreed 
 on, and everything ready, the Earl of Sunderland 
 had gone away, no one knew where. But he sent 
 Anne a letter releasing her from her engagement 
 with him, and giving no reason for his action. He 
 also advised his friends not to inquire into the matter ; 
 they might think and say what they liked, if only 
 they would not ask him anything. He had had enough 
 of it and was as definitely resolved not to marry 
 Anne as he was resolved not to explain why.
 
 212 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Of course one must remember that Pepys is only 
 repeating gossip, which may have been exaggerated, 
 but the French ambassador at Whitehall, the Comte 
 de Comminges, wrote to the Marquis de Lionne, 
 who was the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 
 in Paris, that the evening before the day fixed for 
 the marriage Lord Sunderland went away and gave 
 orders to one of his friends to break off the match, 
 a proceeding which greatly surprised every one at 
 Court and which disgusted the King, who blamed 
 the Earl in the highest degree. 
 
 Whether the fault was in Anne — the writer in the 
 Dictio7iary of National Biography suggests that " if 
 the young earl's fears were due to a suspicion that 
 he had met his match in duplicity, they were probably 
 not unfounded " — or in her lover, or whether the 
 latter was tired of hearing about Lord Bristol, it is 
 impossible to say. The Earl of Bristol was in dis- 
 grace just then, having reported that Sir Richard 
 Temple had said treasonable things in conversation ; 
 for this he was summoned to the Bar of the House of 
 Commons to prove or defend his words. There he 
 seemed to think that the best defence lay in a flippant 
 jocularity, making " a comedian-like speech, de- 
 livered with such action as did not become his lord- 
 ship, confessing that he did tell the King such a 
 thing of Sir Richard Temple, but that the words he 
 repeated had not been spoken by him, he himself 
 having enlarged upon what was said." This defence 
 was made after the flight of Lord Sunderland, who, 
 however, one writer suggests, may have been tired 
 out with the notoriety of his prospective father-in- 
 law.
 
 ANNE DIGBY 213 
 
 Whatever the cause, and whatever the means taken 
 to set matters right, the marriage was definitely put 
 off, and for a considerable time the lovers did not 
 meet. Then either inclination reasserted itself or 
 counsel prevailed, for the estranged pair were recon- 
 ciled and married on June loth, 1665, at St. Vedast's, 
 in the city of London, nearly two years after it was 
 first intended. 
 
 In studying Anne Digby's life it is difficult not to 
 accept Princess Anne's estimate of her, written in a 
 letter to her sister in the spring of 1688 — a letter 
 which Mrs. Jameson says contained " the most vulgar 
 and virulent abuse." 
 
 After discussing Lord Sunderland the Princess 
 adds : " His lady too is as extraordinary in her kind ; 
 for she is a flattering, dissembling, false woman ; 
 but she has so fawning and endearing a way, that 
 she will deceive anybody at first, and it is not pos- 
 sible to find out all her ways in a little time. Then 
 she has had her gallants, though may be not so many 
 as some ladies here, and with all these good qualities 
 she is a constant church woman ; so that to out- 
 ward appearance, one would take her for a saint, 
 and, to hear her talk, you would think she is a very 
 good Protestant, but she is as much the one as the 
 other, for it is certain that her lord does nothing 
 without her." A week later the outspoken Princess 
 also wrote : " She runs from church to church after 
 the famousest preachers, and keeps such a clatter 
 with her devotions that it really turns one's stomach. 
 Sure there never was a couple so well matched as 
 she and her husband ; for as she is throughout in 
 all her actions the greatest jade that ever was, so is
 
 214 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 he the subtlest workingest villain that is on the face 
 of the earth." 
 
 This desire to be all things to all men must have 
 been inherent in Lady Sunderland's nature, for in 
 1667, and also in 1688, we find John Evelyn writing 
 letters to her upon such subjects as books of devotion, 
 and her courage and Christian fortitude. " I look 
 upon it as a peculiar grace and favour of God to 
 Your Ladyship that, amidst so many temptations, 
 and grandeur of courts, the attendants, visits, diver- 
 sions, you are resolved that nothing of all this shall 
 interrupt your duty to God, and the religion you 
 profess, whenever it comes into competition with 
 the things of this world." 
 
 Evelyn saw the Countess often, yet as he did not 
 altogether live in her circle, he probably did not 
 know of many things that happened there. That 
 he was sincere in his belief in her personal religion 
 and devotion there can be no doubt, and it is quite 
 possible that the lady did not find devotion incom- 
 patible with intrigue, both political and amorous. 
 
 Sunderland took a shady by-way into Royal favour 
 by making great friends with the Duchess of Cleve- 
 land, and when her influence waned he transferred 
 his attentions to Louise Renee de Keroualle, the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth. The former was often in- 
 vited to Althorp, his country house, where play was 
 the amusement ; and the latter was known at his 
 town house in Queen Street to win enormous sums 
 of him at basset. His wife was his strong ally, ready 
 always to gain the end in view by intrigue of any 
 kind. She was one of those who initiated the plan 
 of the absurd wedding which reconciled Louise de
 
 ANNE DIGBY 215 
 
 Keroualle to her position in England, and later she 
 did her best to ingratiate herself with Mary of 
 Modena. 
 
 The Earl was despatched, in 167 1, upon an embassy 
 to Spain, and the next year was appointed Ambassador 
 Extraordinary to the French King. Later he was 
 admitted to the Privy Council at Windsor and was 
 made a Gentleman of the Bedchamber. 
 
 Evelyn speaks of taking a farewell dinner with 
 Lady Sunderland before she went to Paris with her 
 husband on his appointment, concerning which he 
 says : " She made me stay dinner at Leicester House, 
 and afterwards sent for Richardson, the famous fire- 
 eater. He devoured brimstone on glowing coal 
 before us, chewing and swallowing them ; he melted 
 a beer glass and ate it quite up ; then, taking a live 
 coal on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster, the coal 
 was blown on with bellows till it flamed and sparkled 
 in his mouth, and so remained till the oyster gaped 
 and was quite boiled. Then he melted pitch and 
 wax with sulphur, which he drank down as it flamed ; 
 I saw it flaming in his mouth for a good while ; he 
 also took up a thick piece of iron, such as laundresses 
 use to put in their smoothing boxes, when it was 
 fiery hot, held it between his teeth, then in his hand, 
 and threw it about like a stone ; but this I observed 
 he cared not to hold very long ; then he stood on a 
 small pot, and, bending his body, took a glowing iron 
 with his mouth from between his feet, without touch- 
 ing the pot or ground with his hands ; with divers 
 other prodigious feats." 
 
 Verily a wonderful fire-eater ! 
 
 On another occasion Evelyn went with Lady
 
 2i6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Sunderland to dine with her mother, Lady Bristol, 
 at Chelsea, in the great house at the north end of 
 Beaufort Row, formerly belonging to the Duke of 
 Buckingham and known by his name, but later bought 
 by the Duke of Beaufort, and called Beaufort House. 
 He tells us that the house was ill-contrived, though 
 being a spacious and excellent place for the extent 
 of ground about it, and that there was in the garden 
 a rare collection of orange trees, " of which she was 
 pleased to bestow some upon me." 
 
 The allusions in Evelyn to his meetings with the 
 Countess and with the Earl are innumerable, and 
 generally are of much the same teror. On more 
 than one occasion Evelyn is desired to be go-between 
 in a matrimonial arrangement. On May i6th, 1681, 
 Lady Sunderland has begun to feel desirous to settle 
 her son, Lord Spencer, who could not have been 
 then more than fifteen years of age. The little 
 woman she desired for the bride was Jane, the twelve- 
 year-old daughter of Sir Stephen Fox. Poor Evelyn 
 says : " I excused myself all I was able ; for the truth 
 is, I was afraid he would prove an extravagant man : 
 for, though a youth of extraordinary parts, and had 
 an excellent education to render him a worthy man, 
 yet his early inclinations to extravagance made me 
 apprehensive that I should not serve Sir Stephen by 
 proposing it, like a friend ; this being now his only 
 daughter, well bred, and likely to receive a large share 
 of her father's opulence. . . . However, so earnest 
 and importunate was the Countess, that I did men- 
 tion it to Sir Stephen, who said that it was too great 
 an honour, that his daughter was very young as well 
 as my Lord, and he was resolved never to marry her
 
 ANNE DIGBY 217 
 
 without the parties' mutual liking ; with other ob- 
 jections which I neither would nor could contradict." 
 The sensible baronet added that he did not think 
 his girl capable of feeling or expressing a preference 
 until she was sixteen or seventeen years old, and 
 begged Evelyn to put the matter off as civilly as he 
 could. 
 
 Lord Sunderland had at this time fallen out of 
 favour with the King for having sided with the 
 Commons about the succession, which, adds Evelyn 
 acutely, " he did not do out of his own inclination, or 
 for the preservation of the Protestant religion ; but 
 because he mistook the ability of the party to carry it." 
 He was also a great gamester, and by his prodigalities 
 had much lessened his estate. This prejudiced Sir 
 Stephen Fox against the match, for Lord Sunderland 
 made no secret of his doings, as his wife proves 
 to us in a letter to his uncle, Henry Sidney, in which 
 she says : " My Lord has fallen again to play to a 
 more violent degree than ever, all day and night. It 
 makes the horridest noise in the world : 'tis talked 
 of in all the coffee-houses, and 'tis for such vast 
 sums — he plays for ^5000 in a night at la Basset^ 
 
 Henry Sidney was but a year older than his nephew 
 and was of an appearance and manner calculated to 
 win any impressionable woman's heart. Bishop 
 Burnet says of him that he was " a graceful man, 
 and one who had lived long in the Court, where 
 he had some adventures that became very public. 
 He was a man of a sweet and caressing temper, 
 had no malice in his heart, but too great a love of 
 pleasure."
 
 2i8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Whether there really existed an intrigue between 
 him and his nephew's wife it is now impossible to 
 say. Both Lord and Lady Sunderland were of so 
 crafty a disposition that they might have been capable 
 of giving a public impression to that effect as a cloak 
 for their political scheming. While Sunderland was 
 the trusted adviser of King James he was keeping 
 up a secret correspondence with William of Orange, 
 through his wife in England and Henry Sidney near 
 the Prince. Lady Sunderland's letters to Sidney 
 are very different from those she sent to Evelyn ; 
 in them is nothing of religion or devotion, but 
 much of politics, written partly in cipher, and 
 many warm expressions of concern about Sidney's 
 welfare. 
 
 Rightly or wrongly, Sunderland was suspected of 
 planning to put Monmouth on the throne, and he is 
 credited with offering to the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 to obtain the succession to the throne for her son, 
 the Duke of Richmond. Later on he was one who, 
 while outwardly loyal, did his best by betraying 
 English plans and occurrences to give William of 
 Orange the chance of wearing the English crown. 
 The Sunderlands were always looking forward, pre- 
 paring for eventualities while hanging with all their 
 strength to the present disposition of affairs. By 
 these means Sunderland made himself useful to three 
 kings, yet eventually lived an idle, unhappy life, exiled 
 to his country house for several years before he died. 
 It was while he was intriguing with William that the 
 correspondence was carried on between Anne and 
 Sidney, and taking into account the fact that the
 
 ANNE DIGBY 219 
 
 letters of that day were of a stilted, reserved character, 
 some of those written by Lady Sunderland show a 
 very ardent feeling for the absent cavalier. " I won't 
 go about to tell you the pain I have been in for your 
 being so sick, and consequently the comfort it is to 
 me to hear you are better, and then how all joyed I 
 am to think we shall have you here awhile with us." 
 " I am overjoyed at your being able to come hither so 
 soon. Pray God send you well, ... I will be sure 
 to do whatever you will have me, and I shall be more 
 pleased than I can express if ever I can serve you in 
 anything." " I can think of nothing with any patience 
 unless you come over. I am confident you will never 
 recover your health where you are ; therefore, pray 
 come away ; though you be lifted in your bed into 
 the yacht, pray do. I will take care to have your 
 lodgings ready here, and good ones at Windsor,* 
 though your own cannot be ready this year." " I 
 hope you will receive an everlasting reward for all 
 the trouble and pains you take in a good cause, and 
 that it will succeed to your heart's desire. I cannot 
 but lament at the signs I see of your being kept 
 longer from this poor closet, where I wish you very 
 often in a day, and hope I am not mistaken in thinking 
 my mind and yours agree in that particular." 
 
 Over-friendly as these letters are to a man who 
 can in no way be classed with the ordinary avuncular 
 relation, they might have been put down to an 
 over-expansive sentimentality, but that Lady Sunder- 
 land was in no way troubled by that quality, and 
 
 * Where Lady Sunderland passed some of her time on duty.
 
 220 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 there is on record a damaging retort made by her 
 husband to Barillon, the French ambassador. Bonrepos, 
 another French emissary in England, also reported 
 the same fact to his master Louis. 
 
 As has been said, part of Anne's letters to Sidney 
 were written in cipher, but even then she believed 
 them opened and their contents made known to 
 the King, though it is probable that the ciphers 
 were not translated. In July, 1678, Barillon wrote 
 to Louis XIV concerning the letters which for some 
 time Lady Sunderland had been writing " to Mr. 
 Sidney, who is with the Prince of Orange and stands 
 well with him. The King of England has had know- 
 ledge of these letters, which Lady Sunderland, how- 
 ever, disowns, and my Lord Sunderland gets out of 
 the matter by saying that even if these letters from 
 his wife were not forged it would be impossible that 
 he could have had any part in them, seeing that it 
 was only too well known that his wife was sus- 
 pected of having an amorous intrigue with Sidney, 
 and that it was not probable that he would put his 
 fortune and his life into the hands of a man whom 
 he ought to hate." 
 
 Where lay truth or falsehood in this matter it is 
 now impossible to say, but whether Anne and Sidney 
 were guilty, or whether the Earl's excuse was an 
 arranged thing among the three of them, our respect 
 for the lady is not increased, indeed, we sympathize 
 a little with Queen Anne in her condemnation of 
 this Madame Facing-both-ways. 
 
 There is one other thing which Lady Sunderland 
 knew full well, a little secret which all people in
 
 ANNE DIGBY 221 
 
 England and many on the Continent were anxious 
 to know, but which has — because of human in- 
 creduHty — never been really satisfactorily settled. 
 She knew whether a prince was really born to Mary 
 Beatrice that Easter night of 1688 in the cur- 
 tained alcove of the Queen's bedroom, but even 
 concerning this affair she could not speak straight- 
 forwardly. 
 
 Surely it was a situation without parallel, if the 
 birth was a fraud ! Here w^as a woman intriguing 
 with the Prince of Orange, hoping to get into his 
 good graces when he should be powerful, and to that 
 end betraying the secrets of English diplomacy. She 
 was aided and abetted by her husband and by her 
 lover, and the husband that he might safeguard 
 himself on every side became a Catholic, assuring 
 Barillon, the servant of William's greatest enemy, 
 Louis XIV, of his attachment to that monarch. While 
 his wife was giving her country away to the Dutch 
 Prince, he was giving it away to the French King, 
 to such an extent that Barillon suggested to Louis 
 that nothing less than a pension of ;^6ooo a year to 
 his lordship would meet the case. Concurrently with 
 this. Lady Sunderland was, according to one account, 
 one of the only two ladies who were present at the 
 bedside of Mary when her baby was born. Lady 
 Belasyse being the other, but when she was examined 
 later concerning the matter her answers were as eva- 
 sive and double as her whole conduct. 
 
 It is not possible to discuss this event here : the 
 accounts were so varying and opposed that no one 
 will ever be quite certain as to the truth, though the
 
 222 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 evidence weighs down heavily on Mary Beatrice's 
 side. The assertions were : that a child was born ; 
 that no birth took place ; that the child died im- 
 mediately and another was substituted ; that the 
 second child died of fits in a week or two and a third 
 was put in its place ; that the King and eighteen 
 Councillors stood in a row facing the alcove behind 
 the closed curtains of which lay the Queen ; that the 
 side curtains were drawn away, and when the Queen 
 was in great pain the Chancellor and the Privy Coun- 
 cillors came to the bedside to show they were there ! 
 So the stories contradicted each other, and no one 
 was satisfied. When all was over Lady Sunderland 
 came forward to announce the safe delivery of a child, 
 and on being asked as to its sex, touched her forehead, 
 upon which James said he knew it was a boy. 
 
 A few months later the King, the Queen, one of 
 the three babies mentioned, some of the Councillors, 
 and Lady Sunderland were seeking safety on other 
 shores. 
 
 In September, 1688, Anne wTote to Sidney asking 
 his advice as to the place they should fly to, and at the 
 same time assuring him that William of Orange had 
 not a more faithful servant than herself in England. 
 In October she wrote a pious letter to Evelyn, say- 
 ing that " God governs the world and will certainly 
 do what is best for those that serve Him," and then 
 in November came the dramatic and painful flight 
 from England. Before the King fled, however, 
 Sunderland was disgraced, for James discovered that 
 the original draft of a treaty between himself and 
 Louis XIV was missing from the Earl's care, and he
 
 ANNE DIGBY 223 
 
 fell into a great rage against his minister. He, however, 
 bestowed his pardon upon him. " You have your 
 pardon — much good may it do you. I hope you will 
 be more faithful to your next master than you have 
 been to me," said James. This in some magical way 
 gave Sunderland the power of raising a large sum 
 of money. With this, and a considerable amount 
 of bullion quietly abstracted from the jewel office, 
 he departed to Rotterdam, disguised in woman's 
 clothes. 
 
 Then William came to England, and this juggler 
 with events, this unprincipled servant of many 
 masters, found himself left by every one. He had 
 to the last clung to a ministry which was odious to 
 the new King, he had turned Catholic when it w^as 
 too late to serve any but an ill purpose for himself, 
 and he had stolen from the public treasury. He was 
 arrested by the Dutch authorities, but soon released ; 
 but when the Act of Indemnity was confirmed, in 
 1690, he was exempted ; so there was no return to 
 England for him. He and his wife remained at 
 Amsterdam in discomfort and perturbation of mind ; 
 then, thinking their case not so desperate perhaps, 
 they each wrote a submissive letter to William. 
 After much trouble they were given the cold com- 
 fort of being allowed to live unmolested in Holland, 
 and Lady Sunderland says pathetically, that all their 
 ambition is bounded to being quietly in Holland for 
 the present, and at Althorp for the rest of their 
 lives. 
 
 Whatever had been Sunderland's supposed hatred 
 for his uncle, Sidney, he wrote beseeching letters to
 
 224 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 him for aid and influence, in one of which he desires 
 his help that he may " be quiet at Althorp, and not 
 to be starved." Later on the Sunderlands went to 
 Utrecht, where Lord Sunderland was frequent in 
 his attendance at the French Protestant church, w^hich 
 was probably one way he took into William's forgive- 
 ness ; and upon which Lady Sunderland wrote a 
 very devout letter to Evelyn, filled with praises to 
 Almighty God. 
 
 In 1691 they had their reward in that they were 
 then allowed to return to England to kiss the King's 
 hand ; and soon after Sunderland was thoroughly in 
 favour. He was freed from his liability for the eight 
 thousand ounces of bullion he had " borrov^'ed " from 
 the Treasury, and he even had the honour of enter- 
 taining the King at Althorp for several days. 
 
 But as long as Sunderland lived he would be a 
 political intriguer, and he became so distrusted by 
 every one that he was obliged to spend the last two 
 or three years of his life in retirement at Althorp, 
 where he died in 1702. Lady Sunderland was Lady 
 of the Bedchamber to Anne, as she had been to Mary 
 of Modena, and died at Althorp, at a good age, in 
 1 7 16. She was a clever, versatile woman, and, as 
 Anne had said when princess, she was a true mate 
 to her husband. 
 
 Sunderland is said to have been the introducer, 
 in about 1678, of what Roger North called "a court 
 tune," a most affected way of speaking in which the 
 vowel sounds were lengthened thus : " Whaat, my 
 laard, if His Maajesty taarns out faarty of us, may he 
 not haave faarty others to saarve him as well, and
 
 ANNE DIGBY 225 
 
 whaat maatters who saarves His Maajesty so long as 
 His Maajesty is saarved ? " It was this affectation 
 which Titus Oates adopted, with his " Aie, Taitus 
 Oaates," etc. And that put the silly trick out of 
 fashion.
 
 PART II 
 
 SIMON VERELST
 
 VERELST 
 
 " When famed Verelst this little wonder drew, 
 "Flora vouchsaf'd the growing work to view ; 
 Finding the painter's science at a stand, 
 The goddess snatch'd the pencil from his hand, 
 And finishing the piece, she smiling said, 
 ' Behold one work of mine that ne'er shall fade.' " 
 
 Prior.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE, DUCHESS OF 
 
 PORTSMOUTH 
 
 " I am of opinion that in King Charles's latter times there was as 
 much of laziness as of love, in all those hours he passed among 
 his mistresses ; who, after all, only served to fill up his seraglio, 
 while a bewitching kind of pleasure called sauntering and talking 
 without restraint was the true Sultana queen he delighted in." 
 
 Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 " Woe be to the Duchess of Portsmouth now that the ladies are got 
 into council." — Lad"^ Dorothy 'Sunderland. 
 
 Charles IPs gallery of fair women included a speci- 
 men of every sort, from the dark Bellona-like Duchess 
 of Cleveland, with her coarse mind and fiery temper, 
 to the light-hearted, sincere, and vulgar-tongued Nell 
 Gwyn. Lucy Walters had long gone to the bad ; the 
 dainty, cautious Frances Stuart had been married, 
 and as wife and widow had been kinder to her King 
 
 o 
 
 than when a maid ; Moll Davies had also been married 
 off, and various other light dames had come and gone. 
 Charles was somewhat at a loose end, for there was 
 no one to arouse a grand passion in his vacant mind. 
 Thus he was ready to be caught by any fresh face, 
 and his sister Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, uncon- 
 sciously provided him with what he wanted. 
 
 It was necessary to the plans of Louis that England 
 should not only be friendly to France, but that there 
 
 229
 
 230 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 should be an alliance signed by which active help 
 should be given to Louis's foreign policy, particu- 
 larly to his plans against the Dutch. Thus Henrietta 
 was sent to England to negotiate the first treaty of 
 Dover ; and for diplomacy's sake the meeting was 
 given the air of a quasi-accidental affair, brought 
 about by impulsive affection. To cover it Louis, with 
 a retinue of 30,000 soldiers, marched gravely to view 
 his new Flanders provinces, taking with him in his 
 coach his wife, Madame de Montespan and Henrietta, 
 the journey being regarded as a kind of triumphal 
 progress all the way. 
 
 At Dunkerque Henrietta asserted her determina- 
 tion to fly over to England and see her brother, and 
 embarking with a small company, landed at Dover, 
 where Charles, by secret arrangement, came to meet 
 her. In her train she brought, as maid of honour, a 
 young woman named Louise de Penancoet de Kerou- 
 alle, who belonged to an ancient Brittany family. 
 Her father, Guillaume de Penancoet, married Marie 
 de Rieux, and they had three children. However 
 honourable were these children in point of pedigree, 
 it does not appear that the parents were either rich 
 or holding a great position, but their ancestry did at 
 least cause Louise to have the chance of living near 
 Royalty. Calumny or truth, it is impossible to say 
 which, asserted that her parents sent Louise to 
 Henrietta's Court, hoping that Louis would throw 
 her the handkerchief, but he was engaged at the time 
 in making love to the gentle Louise de la Valliere, and 
 the new maid of honour soon found a recipient for 
 her flirtatious glances in the Comte de Sault. However 
 innocent may have been this episode, the girl's fair
 
 Louise de Kerouai.i.e, Duchess of I'ortsmouth, as Flora 
 
 iAfter Verelsf) 
 
 [to face page 23C
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 231 
 
 fame was tarnished, and this fact was not forgotten 
 later when a nation had cause to hate her very name. 
 A story was also told that she secretly left the house 
 of an aunt in Paris, and in the dress of a page accom- 
 panied the Duke of Beaufort on his expedition to 
 Candia, being away with him for four months. But 
 this was mere scandal, as during those months she 
 was fulfilling her duties at the Court of Henrietta. 
 Her brother, Sebastian, however, went with the 
 Beaufort expedition and died a few days after his 
 return. 
 
 When, during the following year, Louise went to 
 Dover with Henrietta she was about twenty-one, 
 possessed of a " baby face, melancholy eyes, and a 
 languid walk." Though there was probably no pre- 
 meditation in choosing the girl to be present at the 
 conference between the brother and sister, there is 
 no doubt that she made a great impression upon 
 Charles, who found a charm in the conversation of 
 this fair and sad young Breton ; and who prolonged 
 the conference for ten or twelve days beyond the 
 stated time, that he might see more of her. 
 
 Henrietta's husband was of a jealous disposition, 
 effeminate and false ; he suspected every one who 
 came in contact with his wife, and he is said even to 
 have suspected her brother's affection for her. It 
 was with great reluctance, and only because of the 
 King's orders, that he consented that she should stay 
 the requisite time, and a month after her return she 
 died. She herself and all the world said she had 
 been poisoned, but at the autopsy this was denied, 
 just as it was after the death of Lady Denham and of 
 Charles II himself.
 
 232 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 This event caused a coldness between the Enghsh 
 and French Courts, which did not at all suit Louis, 
 who had tried various ways of influencing Charles to 
 his will. At last, remembering the liking the King of 
 England had shown to Louise de Keroualle, he deter- 
 mined to send her over the Channel to see what she 
 could do in furthering his schemes. Bishop Burnet 
 gives the credit of this suggestion to the Duke of 
 Buckingham, that versatile genius, unparalleled profli- 
 gate and enemy to his country. He was jealous of 
 the influence with the King of his cousin Barbara, 
 and being ready to do her any injury, he is said to 
 have improved the occasion of Madame's death by 
 telling Charles that the only decent thing he could 
 do would be to take care of some of her servants, and 
 by more or less pointed words indicated those who 
 would need his care the most. He also wrote to the 
 King of France, telling him how impossible it would 
 be for him to keep any ascendancy over Charles unless 
 he had some one in close connection with him who 
 would foster French interests, and suggested that a 
 mistress was likely longest to keep the King's feet 
 in the way they should go. He even went so far 
 as to offer to escort the lady to England, which offer 
 was naturally accepted. 
 
 Having some affair to finish in Paris the Duke of 
 Buckingham sent Louise de Keroualle on to Dieppe 
 with some of his servants, he intending to follow and 
 embark there with her. So much being done, he dis- 
 missed the whole matter from his mind, and when he 
 had completed his business he calmly returned home 
 via Calais. The neglected beauty remained at Dieppe 
 for a considerable time, with no escort but strange
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 233 
 
 servants and no money to pay the heavy expenses in- 
 curred. Ralph Montagu, who was then ambassador 
 at Paris, heard of this, and was quick to seize the 
 advantage given him. He sent to England for a yacht, 
 which Charles at once commanded to take sail, and 
 he also sent some of his own servants to wait upon 
 her and to defray all expenses. Once arrived in 
 England, Arlington, then at loggerheads with the 
 Duke of Buckingham, met her and smoothed the rest 
 of the journey. Louise de Keroualle was a firm 
 friend, and always remained a supporter of Arlington, 
 thus Buckingham, by his own irresponsibility, lost an 
 influence which would have stood him in good stead 
 for the rest of his life. 
 
 The sight of the girl with her melancholy eyes so 
 reminded Charles of his well-beloved sister that he 
 wept and fell into a sentimental mood, naming her 
 maid of honour to his wife on the spot. Almost im- 
 mediately the relations between France and England 
 grew less strained. This must have been in the 
 summer of 1670, for Evelyn writes in the autumn 
 of having seen " that famous beauty, but in my 
 opinion of a childish, simple, and baby face. Made- 
 moiselle de Keroualle, lately maid of honour to 
 Madame, and now to be so to the Queen." 
 
 At first Louise was coy, whether it was coquetry, 
 or a deep design to make her position as tenable as 
 possible one cannot say, but for some months she 
 occupied herself with her duties, and in preserving 
 an attitude of aloofness towards the monarch, whose 
 amorous inclinations would by that means become 
 the more accentuated. She had to learn something 
 of the nature of the people among whom she was to
 
 234 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 live and especially of that of her great rival Lady 
 Castlemaine, never dreaming that though she might 
 triumph over her, there was another humbler courtesan 
 whom she could not conquer. 
 
 Castlemaine herself felt that at last her real hold 
 over the King had slipped, and she was rather intent 
 upon saving as much as possible from the wreck than 
 upon fighting the French girl. This may have been 
 the time when Gramont tells us he acted as mediator 
 between her and the King, possibly on one of the long 
 visits to England which he occasionally made after 
 his marriage, but he does not mention Louise, and 
 the Countess became the Duchess of Cleveland early 
 in August, 1670. It was therefore possible that this 
 honour had been asked before the arrival of Made- 
 moiselle de Keroualle. The success of the demand 
 was at once followed by a further exaction, and 
 Charles made Barbara's eldest son the Marquis of 
 Southampton, and the second Earl of Northumber- 
 land, Joscelyn Percy, the last of his line, having died. 
 
 As far as can be judged, Louise was anxious that 
 Charles should be off with the old love before he was 
 on with the new, and so encouraged and then repulsed 
 him that he must have wondered whether another 
 Frances Stuart had arisen to torment him. The in- 
 fluence of Barbara had waned to such an extent that 
 in 1668 she had practically retired from Whitehall, 
 and though her name was still on the list of bed- 
 chamber women she scarcely ever attended the Queen, 
 and in 1672, owing to the operation of the Test Act, 
 her name was removed. But before this happened 
 Louise de Keroualle had come to be pubHcly owned 
 by the King.
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 235 
 
 Through her first winter in England she had never 
 ceased in her endeavour to prove herself better look- 
 ing, better dressed, and more desirable than all those 
 in England who might rival her. Her behaviour was 
 one long attempt to fascinate Charles, and she was so 
 reluctant to grant him any favour that the French 
 ambassador, the French King, and even the French 
 Court were thrown into fits of despondency, for fear 
 that her mission to England should be a failure. 
 This depression was shared by those great Englishmen 
 who feared lest the bribes and pensions doled out 
 by Louis should be discontinued, so at last Arlington 
 and Sunderland determined to make a brave attempt 
 to put things right. 
 
 Charles was settling his Court at Newmarket for a 
 short time, and the Arlingtons went down to their 
 seat at Euston, which was within an easy ride of the 
 town of races. Lady Arlington prayed the King as 
 a favour to allow her to invite Mademoiselle de 
 Keroualle to stay with her, and he did not hesitate 
 in giving his consent. Colbert, the French ambassador, 
 was not only one of the guests, but in the conspiracy, 
 and good honest Evelyn was also there. He describes 
 the house as a noble pile, consisting of the large body 
 of a house and four pavilions or wings added to it, 
 " not only very capable and roomsome, but very 
 magnificent and commodious, as well within as with- 
 out." 
 
 It had a wonderful staircase, a great hall, rooms of 
 state painted in fresco by Verrio, so beloved of the 
 Stuarts. There were parks and gardens, orangery and 
 fountain, but what pleased Evelyn best was his own 
 pretty apartment, to which he could retire out of
 
 236 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 the hurry and gaiety and " converse with books." 
 During the fortnight which Evelyn stayed there, 
 the King came every other day with the Duke, the 
 latter generally returning the same day to Newmarket, 
 while Charles rested the night, Evelyn twice having 
 the honour of dining with his sovereign. Thus, 
 though he was in the house, he did not see all that 
 happened in it, but he saw some things and heard 
 others. For instance, he saw that the beautiful 
 Louise remained nearly all day in her undress and 
 that on the King's part " there was fondness and 
 toying with that young wanton," and he heard 
 rumours of a marriage ceremony, though he was not 
 present at its performance. 
 
 The fact was that every one was anxious to bind 
 Charles in the toils of the Frenchwoman, and no 
 one was more anxious than Charles himself or than 
 Louise de Keroualle ; the only question being whether 
 the psychological moment had arrived at which the 
 lady could succumb with the greatest advantage to 
 herself and her cause. She probably decided that it 
 had, but knowing Charles's weak character she was 
 determined to turn her submission into a conquest 
 by making the compact as binding as it could be upon 
 Charles. To this end she repudiated the idea of being 
 simply a " mistress ": she would be his wife. Had not 
 some ecclesiastics. Bishop Burnet among them, de- 
 cided that as every man was allowed one wife, a king, 
 and particularly this King, might have two, especially 
 as the wife he had brought him no children ? " I see 
 nothing so strong against polygamy as to balance the 
 great and visible imminent hazards that hang over so 
 many thousands, if it be not allowed," said Burnet in
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 237 
 
 a treatise on the subject. She therefore demanded 
 to be properly married, and the marriage took place, 
 though whether there was a clergyman present is not 
 recorded. 
 
 In the Secret History of the Reigns of Charles II 
 and James II the event is thus described : " But he 
 was more kind to the Duchess of Portsmouth than to 
 any of his mistresses ; and thence it was that . . . 
 after he had made her a Duchess, he made her also 
 his wife; that is to say, he married her by virtue of 
 his Royal Prerogative at the Lord A's house, by the 
 Common Prayer Book, according to the ceremonies 
 of the Church of England : a thing in some measure 
 justifiable in a prince, since the Law allows all men 
 one wife ; and therefore a king, who is above Law, 
 may surely have two." 
 
 There had been much love-making to lead up to 
 this. The King spent several hours every day with 
 Mile. Keroualle, and invited the whole house party 
 over to Newmarket to see the races. M. Colbert, the 
 French ambassador, who was present, tells how charm- 
 ingly they were entertained and how upon the young 
 lady were showered those small attentions which 
 denote a great passion, and that she had not failed 
 in showing the gratitude which the love of a great 
 King should deserve from a young girl. 
 
 There remains no actual description of this marriage, 
 save that it was contrived by the great ladies of the 
 party. Lady Arlington and Lady Sunderland, and 
 that it was attended with all the customs which were 
 usual in those times and which to-day we should re- 
 gard as indecencies. Evelyn can only repeat the 
 gossip, having witnessed nothing of the event. He
 
 238 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 mentions that it was universally reported that the 
 fair lady succumbed "one of these nights, and the 
 stocking flung, after the manner of a married bride 
 . . . nay, it was said I was at the ceremony ; but it 
 is utterly false ; I neither saw nor heard of any such 
 thing while I was there, though I had been in her 
 chamber, and all over that apartment late enough, 
 and was myself observing all passages with much 
 curiosity. However, it was with confidence believed 
 she was first made a Miss^ as they call these unhappy 
 creatures, with solemnity at this time." 
 
 All the kingdom talked about the event, which gave 
 the signal for the pamphleteers to get to work, and 
 their descriptions of that fortnight at Euston were 
 of such an indecent character — whether written by 
 Puritan or Royalist — that they are unrepeatable. 
 That it pleased Louise to pretend that she considered 
 herself really married was obvious to all, and it is 
 recorded that on one occasion she took fire at the 
 suggestion that it was not so. 
 
 Louis XIV was at last satisfied ; he sent his con- 
 gratulations to the lady, and formulated the advan- 
 tages which should accrue from the union — an alliance 
 between England and France against Holland, open 
 profession on the part of Charles of the Roman 
 Catholic faith, and the right of himself to choose 
 a second wife for James, Duke of York. He was 
 pleased in one respect, for war was declared against 
 the Dutch in March, 1672, but Louise was too cautious 
 to press the conversion of the King until she was sure 
 of success, and as for the third desired result there 
 were many motives at work causing some friction 
 before the matter was settled.
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 239 
 
 At the end o£ July, 1672, Louise bore the King 
 a son, who was named Charles Lennox, and later 
 given the title of Duke of Richmond, and from that 
 time on her desire to be queen was apparent to 
 every one, for according to the despatches sent from 
 the ambassador to Louis, and given to us in book 
 form by Monsieur H. Forneron, she did not know 
 how to behave in her " good fortune " and had got 
 it into her head that she might still become Queen 
 of England, and was always talking of the Queen's 
 maladies as though they were mortal. Charles on his 
 part loved her well, but he went his own way never- 
 theless, gossip having it that he spent ;^7000 on Lady 
 Falmouth from May to December of 1673, and 
 ^40,000 on the Duchess of Cleveland. 
 
 But we must remember that the very interesting 
 letters sent to Louis by his emissaries in England were 
 composed of as much gossip as was the diary of 
 Pepys, and can by no means be taken as true records 
 of facts. Though Barbara was at this time not re- 
 garded as in close connection with the King, she 
 was doing her utmost to build up a fortune for her- 
 self — it would have been quite as easy to hold water 
 in a sieve — and to provide for her children; thus, 
 though she had a whole posse of lovers, she did not 
 let Charles forget her, her role being gaiety and 
 laughter, with an occasional row to dispel monotony. 
 Louise, on the other hand, found tears most useful 
 when she wished to cajole a lover or discredit her 
 rival, and Dryden tells us in his " Essay on Satire " : 
 
 " In loyal libels we have often told him 
 How one has jilted, and the other sold him ; 
 How that affects to laugh, how this to weep."
 
 240 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 In return for this and a few other remarks Dryden 
 found awaiting him in Covent Garden one night 
 three stout ruffians, who used their cudgels upon him 
 with severe effect, and were very careful to run away 
 and hide as soon as they heard some one coming ; 
 for which assault Louise had all the credit. 
 
 As to the marriage of the Duke of York, King 
 Louis had decided that the widow of the Due de 
 Guise would serve him best as Duchess of York, but 
 James had a prejudice against that lady, who was well 
 advanced in years and plain of face. Louise wanted 
 him to marry one of two sisters, daughters of the 
 Due d'Elbceuf, and she hung their portraits about 
 her room, hoping James would be attracted. He, 
 however, declared them to be too young : they were 
 somewhere between eleven and fourteen. The French 
 ambassador was annoyed with her behaviour and in- 
 fluenced Arlington against her, who hotly reproached 
 her with having forgotten the obligations she was 
 under to him as easily as she forgot the dinners she 
 ate. As James had made up his mind to have some 
 sort of choice in his own marriage, neither Louis 
 nor Louise succeeded in their schemes, and the two 
 pretty sisters were immured in a convent. 
 
 The people of England had a profound distrust 
 of France and her King, and from the first they 
 hated the Frenchwoman who was acquiring such a 
 strong influence at Court, yet she contrived always 
 to strengthen her position, and was naturalized as an 
 Englishwoman at the request of Louis. Following 
 this, in August, 1673, Charles created her Baroness 
 Petersfield, Countess of Farnham, and Duchess of 
 Pendennis. The last title was immediately altered
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 241 
 
 for unknown reasons to Duchess of Portsmouth. 
 Last of all, before the year was out she was made 
 Lady of the Bedchamber to the Queen. Poor Queen ! 
 she must have been fairly well hardened to having 
 people of that sort about her. 
 
 Apropos of Louise's new title, Sir William Dugdale 
 mentions that " she was of such honourable women 
 as His Majesty has deservedly raised to high titles of 
 honour'''' ; just as he said Barbara was made Duchess 
 of Cleveland " by reason of her father's death in His 
 Majesty's army, as also for her own personal virtues.'''' 
 He also remarked of Lee, Earl of Lichfield, that some 
 without service had been " advanced to eminent 
 titles ... as an encouragement to them all in 
 virtuous endeavours.''^ The gentleman had married 
 one of Barbara's daughters ! 
 
 As Charles had done so much for the French girl, 
 he seemed to think it was Louis' turn to give her 
 something, so in 1674, when the lady was ill and 
 required a quiet life, Charles thought to cheer her 
 by asking his brother of France to bestow upon her 
 the fief of Aubigny, which had reverted to the French 
 King on the death of Richmond, the husband of 
 La Belle Stuart. When one considers it, it was not 
 an extravagant petition, for Louise was working for 
 her own monarch's schemes and he owed her some 
 recompense. Charles, however, added to his request 
 the condition that the fief should descend in succes- 
 sion to such natural son of his and the Duchess of 
 Portsmouth as he might designate. The difficulty 
 about the whole thing was that the title of Duchess 
 of Aubigny carried with it the privilege of a tabouret 
 at the French Court, one of the most desired honours 
 Q
 
 242 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 among French women, giving as it did to its owner 
 the permission to remain seated in the King's or 
 Queen's presence. Louis could not easily put up 
 with this, for quite apart from her English rank and 
 questionable position, she had been distinctly a person 
 of no social importance in her own country, so he 
 conferred the estate but withheld the title, and it is 
 said that Louise thought Buckingham responsible for 
 this failure and worked against him ever after. 
 
 Lady Portsmouth was living just the life that would 
 gain her enemies, and among them was one whom 
 she scorned too much to notice at the beginning, but 
 whom she found to be impervious to spite or disdain, 
 and this was Nell Gwyn, a woman who was full of 
 kindness, laughter, and wit, but who was too un- 
 tutored and too uneducated to be anything but 
 vulgar. Her gay heart kept Charles's affection, and 
 though she never received honours or vast estates, she 
 had enough money from him to live in luxury and to 
 compete in all external ways with the two better- 
 born dames. She did not dismay Charles with her 
 temper, nor trouble him with politics, and she was 
 more faithful than any, for even of Louise scandal 
 had its story to tell, connecting her name with that 
 of the Grand Prior of France, brother to the Duke 
 of Vendome. This man is said to have had a real 
 passion for the Duchess, difficult as it is to believe 
 that any of them could feel real emotion or sentiment ; 
 and he refused to take any hints or to obey any com- 
 mands to absent himself from Louise's apartments. 
 At last it is said that Charles definitely commanded 
 him to quit, not only the house, but England itself, 
 and means were taken to land the French gentleman
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 243 
 
 on his own shores. Then, as though defiantly to prove 
 his right, Charles was seen caressing the lady publicly. 
 But of Nell no such story was ever told ; she openly 
 said that since the King had shown her affection she 
 had been true to him. Her great generosity and the 
 knowledge that she sprang from the people made her 
 a popular figure, while Louise was hated more bitterly 
 with every year that passed. Various stories were 
 told of Nell Gwyn's birth, some trying to prove that 
 she belonged to a respectable middle-class family, and 
 being stage-struck, sold oranges as a means of getting 
 her foot upon the dramatic ladder. But the fact 
 seems to be that she was born in a garret or a cellar, 
 it is immaterial which, in some yard in the lowest part 
 of the city. What sort of life surrounded her child- 
 hood it is easy to imagine ; as a young girl she sold 
 oranges about and in the theatre, where her nimble 
 tongue and pretty face soon made her a welcome 
 visitor. Lacy the comedian was said to be her first 
 lover ; he was succeeded by Charles Hart, the great- 
 nephew of Shakespeare, and one of the temporary 
 gallants of Barbara Palmer. Charles, Lord Buckhurst, 
 afterwards Lord Dorset, kept house with her at Epsom, 
 and later she attracted the King's attention. He was, 
 she said, her Charles HI, even though he was Charles H 
 to his people. The story goes that she was reciting 
 a prologue to the audience in a hat as large as a cart- 
 wheel, as a method of burlesquing another actress, 
 and her little figure hidden in so absurd a way amused 
 Charles so much that he invited her to sup with him. 
 When she first came to Charles we are told she asked 
 ^500 a year, which was refused, but later, after she 
 had become the mother of a son, tens of thousands
 
 244 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 were bestowed upon her, with a house in St. James's 
 and the power of commanding any luxury she desired. 
 The fact about her which seems most to have im- 
 pressed popular fancy is that the walls and ceiling 
 of one of her rooms were covered with mirrors, and 
 there is that story which, true or not, will always be 
 linked with her name. " Come hither, you little 
 bastard, and speak to your father," she cried to her 
 boy one day. " Nay, Nelly, do not give the child 
 such a name," remonstrated Charles. To which she 
 answered, " Your Majesty has given me no other 
 name by which I may call him." It is said that upon 
 this Charles gave him the name of Beauclerc, and 
 made him Earl of Burford ; but as a matter of fact 
 he was created Baron Heddington and Earl of Bur- 
 ford the very year he was born. 
 
 Nell had a lodging at Whitehall as one of the ladies 
 of the Queen's privy chamber, a post to which she 
 had never aspired, but which was given her as a means 
 of keeping her near the King ; but we never hear that 
 she obtruded in the Queen's presence or made herself 
 anything but amiable, excepting to her rivals, and 
 to them her plain outspokenness was a sore punish- 
 ment. Madame de Sevigne, who kept an interested 
 eye upon social life in England, gave a refreshing 
 account in a letter of Nell's pretty way with Lady 
 Portsmouth, a way which must have much exasper- 
 ated that lady. She wrote : 
 
 " Keroualle has been mistaken in nothing. She 
 desired to be the King's mistress ; she has that posi- 
 tion ; he shares her couch in the eyes of all his Court. 
 She has a son who has just been recognized, and on 
 whom has been conferred two duchies. She amasses
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 245 
 
 riches and makes herself Hked and respected by those 
 whom she desires, but she did not foresee that she 
 would find in her way a young comedian, by whom 
 the King is fascinated. She has not the power to 
 detach him from her for an instant. He divides his 
 thoughts, his time, and his wealth between the two. 
 The comedian is as proud as the Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth ; she defies her, makes grimaces at her, attacks 
 her, and often steals the King from her, boasting of 
 his preference. She is young, pretty, impudent, 
 debauched, and pleasant ; she sings, she dances, and 
 follows love frankly ; she has a son whom she wishes 
 to be recognized. This is how she reasons. ' That 
 young woman,' says she, ' is a person of quality. She 
 says that all the great people of France are related 
 to her. If some one of rank dies she puts on mourn- 
 ing. Ah, well ! since she is of such high quality, 
 why is she of bad character ? She ought to die with 
 shame. As for me, it is my trade ; I pride myself 
 on nothing else. The King keeps me, I am faithful 
 to him ; my son is his ; I contend that he ought to 
 be recognized and he will recognize him, for he loves 
 me as much as Portsmouth.' " To this Madame 
 Sevigne adds : " This creature takes the upper hand, 
 and discountenances and embarrasses the Duchess to 
 an extraordinary degree." 
 
 Even at this distance of time one comprehends 
 sympathetically the liking for the open-hearted, 
 straight Englishwoman, and the prejudice against the 
 crafty Frenchwoman who had come into the country 
 to make its King betray its best interests, and who 
 while doing so was diverting into her own pockets 
 money raised by taxes from the community.
 
 246 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Nell Gwyn is credited with initiating the building 
 of the Chelsea Hospital, and of urging forward its 
 completion. The story runs that one day, when driving 
 in her luxurious coach, a poor man asked for charity, 
 saying that he was an old soldier, had fought for the 
 Stuarts through the Civil War, and that wounded, 
 old, and disabled he was starving in the streets. This 
 so affected Nell that she went to the King hot with 
 the pathetic incident, and thus the idea of the hospital 
 arose. There is that other story of Nell in her coach 
 which is not quite so pleasant to tell, though its 
 humour causes it to live. She drove through low 
 quarters, and the people, believing her to be the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth, surrounded her with angry 
 shouts. Coaches were closed-up vehicles in those 
 days, for the glass carriage had not taken among 
 English ladies ; so Nell, hearing the cries, opened 
 her door wide and, standing on the step, called, " Never 
 mind, good people, I am the English mistress ! " Her 
 charming smile and her frankness would alone have 
 won the mob, but she was their Nell as well as the 
 King's, and they shouted now with delight. 
 
 Nell had been a thorn in the side of Lady Castle- 
 maine, and she gaily sought to fill the same office 
 with Louise de Kerouallc, sometimes trying to in- 
 fluence the King by her common sense in a direct 
 way not always possible to Louise. On one occasion 
 he went to her apartments depressed and angry from 
 some contention with his councillors, asking what 
 he could do to please the people. " I am torn by 
 their clamours." 
 
 " There is one way left to you, and that I fear 
 you will not take," answered the ready Nell ; " send
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 247 
 
 your mistresses packing, and attend to your business." 
 Needless to say Charles did not take this advice. 
 
 Apart from the constant irritation produced by 
 so open a rival as Nell, the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 had other trials which did not tend to her happiness. 
 She was bent on making Charles own to being a 
 Roman Catholic, with the result that after working 
 to this end for nearly fifteen years she succeeded only 
 partially when he was on his death-bed. In 1674 the 
 whole secret league between Charles and Louis was 
 nearly broken through a furore of hatred against the 
 French among the English people, who had expended 
 themselves against Popery by forcing on the resignation 
 of the Duke of York and the Treasurer Clifford ; then 
 Lady Portsmouth fell ill and had to leave her Royal 
 master to the seductions of any pretty woman in his 
 proximity. Charles was thoughtful for her in this 
 illness, placing her under his own physician at Windsor, 
 and arranging that her sister, to whom he gave a 
 pension of y^6oo a year, should come to her. This girl 
 was married soon to the Earl of Pembroke, an even 
 more morally disagreeable companion than the King. 
 
 It must have been rather embarrassing for Charles 
 to be constantly confronted with a new son, whose 
 mother eagerly demanded this or that title with which 
 to decorate the nameless infant. His people watched 
 his troubles on this account, some with stern disap- 
 proval, some with c|uiet amusement, and some with 
 open derision. There is more than one incident on 
 record when popular feeling was demonstrated in 
 action, such as when, in November, 1675, the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth being ill, a pillion was fastened on the 
 back of the horse bearing the statue of Charles in
 
 248 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Stocks Market, while a placard was pasted on the 
 breast with the legend, " Haste, post haste, for a 
 midwife." The Stocks Market occupied the position 
 now held by the Mansion House. Up to the time of 
 Edward I the stocks had stood there, but in Charles 
 IPs reign it was a fruit and flower market, with rows 
 of trees on the east side, " very pleasant to the in- 
 habitants." A great equestrian statue had been put 
 there in May, 1672, a statue of John Sobieski, the 
 Polish King, which had been purchased by Sir Robert 
 Viner, alderman, who had it decapitated and a head 
 of Charles attached, while the Turk beneath the 
 horse's feet became a defeated Cromwellian. 
 
 But to return to these infants. There was Barbara 
 with her three boys demanding more than one title 
 apiece : the second son, who was already Earl of 
 Euston, was to be made the Duke of Grafton ; Charles, 
 the eldest son, known then as the Earl of Southampton, 
 was to be created Baron of Newbury, Earl of Chiches- 
 ter, and Duke of Southampton; the third son had 
 already three titles. The Duchess of Portsmouth 
 having secured the lands in France which had be- 
 longed to Frances Stuart's husband, now wanted his 
 title for her son, and Nell was hinting that her boy 
 had not a sufficiency of handles to his name. The 
 last was put off without a title, but with an income 
 of ;£4000. The titles of Grafton and Richmond 
 and Southampton were conferred all at once, which _ 
 caused a race for precedence between the two mothers. 
 This precedence depended upon which patent was 
 first signed by the Lord Treasurer, and Louise, learn- 
 ing that that functionary was going to Bath the next 
 day, sent her attorney to the Treasurer at midnight
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 249 
 
 and secured his signature. When Barbara's lawyer 
 arrived the next morning it was only to learn that 
 the great man had started on his journey. Louise was 
 further gratified by the King's bestowing upon her an 
 annuity of ^/^i 0,000, which w^as to be paid out of 
 the wine licences. But at the end of 1675 she had to 
 face the arrival of the notorious Hortense, Duchess 
 Mazarin, who was known as the most beautiful woman 
 in Europe and who was famed for the eccentricity 
 of her life. 
 
 When in exile Charles had asked Hortense in marriage 
 of Mazarin, but the great Cardinal was too short- 
 sighted to see coming events, and refused the honour 
 for his niece. In the first year of Charles's reign it 
 was the uncle who offered his niece in marriage to 
 the King, which offer was refused, as was the first. 
 Almost at once Hortense married the Duke of Mayenne 
 on condition that he should take the name of Mazarin. 
 He developed into a religious enthusiast, and made 
 his wife's life a burden by awaking her at night to 
 listen to inaudible " voices " and see invisible " visions," 
 dragging her about the country from one estate to 
 another and torturing her with his jealousy. He was 
 such a misguided bigot that he refused to let the 
 women on his estates milk cows for fear of raising 
 evil thoughts, and he wanted to pull out the front 
 teeth of his little girls that he might destroy all chance 
 of vanity. At last, after there were four children 
 of the union, he thought fit to immure his beautiful 
 young wife in a convent, which was a sort of glorified 
 Magdalene home, and from which the Duchess 
 escaped as soon as possible. She instituted a suit 
 against her husband for a legal separation, and then,
 
 250 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 fearing that it would not be successful, left Paris in 
 the dress of a cavalier, attended by her maid, also 
 in man's clothing, and by two gallants. Madame de 
 Sevigne says that she returned to Paris and was again 
 confined, this time in the abbey of Lys, but that the 
 King who had been her playmate in childhood sent 
 a constable with eight dragoons to break down the 
 door and set her at liberty. Hortense then spent 
 three years in Savoy with another gallant, after- 
 wards coming to England, glowing with health and 
 beauty, where she was received with open arms by 
 all those who longed to see the Duchess of Portsmouth 
 discomfited. Charles, at once attracted by her vitality 
 and her magnificent appearance, gave her apartments 
 in St. James's Palace and a pension of ;^4000 a year. 
 
 Louise was expecting another child, and both was 
 and looked ill, for she was one of those whose beauty 
 is killed by anxiety. Nell Gwyn wickedly put on deep 
 mourning for the poor Duchess and her dead hopes, 
 Lady Castlemaine went into the country, and in rage 
 and despair Louise hastened to Bath, the new resort, 
 hoping to regain her good looks. 
 
 On her return she found that she had lost Charles ; 
 he was kind and friendly, but they only met when 
 other people were present. For a time she brooded 
 and wept ; then, acting on the advice of the French 
 ambassador, who knew that her failure with Charles 
 would ruin his master's plans, she dried her eyes, 
 appeared again in public, played the gracious hostess, 
 and mixed with the Court. But before 1677 dawned 
 her power seemed to have vanished entirely. Nell 
 Gwyn, who never really lost her hold on the King, 
 was still in his favour and still made the Duchess of
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 251 
 
 Portsmouth the target for her raillery. Charles 
 visited the Duchess Mazarin daily. He is said to have 
 regularly allowed himself to be put to bed at White- 
 hall, and as soon as his gentlemen and valets departed 
 to have got up, dressed, and stolen off to St. James's 
 Palace, to spend some hours with the high-spirited 
 Frenchwoman ; but he went to see the Duchess of 
 Portsmouth only when he knew that other people 
 would be there. It may have been in some vain 
 attempt to regain her influence that Louise went 
 demurely to service in the King's chapel, and pre- 
 tended to turn Protestant ; but this had no effect on 
 Charles and did not deceive any one else. 
 
 Monsieur Forneron gives us many stories which 
 he gathered from the letters sent by Courtin, the 
 ambassador, to Louis XIV, showing how keen was the 
 interest taken in France in the scandalous doings at 
 the English Court. One tells us how a reconciliation 
 was effected among the various ladies. Courtin was 
 paying a call upon the Duchess Mazarin when Louise 
 de Keroualle entered on a visit of ceremony, and 
 almost immediately came Lady Harvey, sister to 
 Ralph Montagu, who hated Louise " worse than any 
 other woman in England." She brought with her 
 Nell Gwyn, who wished to thank Hortense for her 
 polite compliments on the recognition of her son. 
 And these three sworn enemies met, talked with 
 amusing gaiety, and showed every civility to each 
 other ; but when Louise had gone Nelly asked the 
 ambassador why King Louis did not send her presents 
 instead of the Duchess of Portsmouth, as she served 
 the King of England far the better of the two, and 
 he loved her far more than he did her rival.
 
 252 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 On another occasion Courtin was seated at the 
 theatre near Madame Harvey and Mrs. Middleton, 
 and they told him laughingly that they should come 
 to supper with him one evening and each bring a 
 friend. He expressed his pleasure and the matter 
 was arranged. The next day Mrs. Middleton invited 
 Louise, and Lady Harvey, who was for the moment 
 enamoured with Madame Mazarin, invited her. To 
 these was added a Mrs. Beauclerc. It was a curious 
 meeting. Mrs. Beauclerc had once been very inti- 
 mate with Lady Harvey, but now hated her ; Lady 
 Harvey hated the Duchess of Portsmouth, and the 
 friendship between the latter and the Duchess 
 Mazarin was of the iciest. Yet the ambassador was 
 clever enough to keep them all amused and gay, and 
 after supper he openly shut up together two or three 
 times the two worse enemies, telling them to get 
 reconciled. At the end Madame Mazarin and Madame 
 Portsmouth came out hand in hand, dancing and 
 jumping down the stairs. 
 
 This reconciliation seems not to have been just a 
 thing of the moment, for it lasted, and the Court 
 circle was astonished one day at seeing the Duchess 
 Mazarin in the coach of the Duchess of Portsmouth. 
 Evidently the latter was tired of the struggle ; time 
 and pertinacity had worn down her resentment against 
 Nell Gwyn, and now she accepted Hortense as an 
 indisputable fact, and was determined to make the 
 best of it. 
 
 As for the international politics which had been the 
 cause of Louise de Keroualle's coming to England, 
 they had resolved themselves into something like a 
 duel of wits between Louis and William of Orange;
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 253 
 
 Charles was bound to Louis, but the people of Eng- 
 land were ready to spend their last penny in upholding 
 William, and the Protestant prince had been working 
 quietly among the great heads of European affairs to 
 form a coalition against France. His last coup was 
 to come to England and beg the hand of Mary, the 
 King's niece, in marriage. Charles raged in private, 
 but the people shouted with delight in the streets. 
 Charles, James, Louise, and Barillon, the new French 
 ambassador, were all powerless : their resistance would 
 have been useless against a man who had suddenly 
 taken the tide of enthusiasm at the flood. The 
 marriage took place, and every one, excepting perhaps 
 Princess Mary, behaved as though it were the most 
 fortunate thing in the world. 
 
 The way in which Louise regained her ascendancy 
 over Charles is told with amusing reticence by M. 
 Forneron. As soon as the marriage ceremony was 
 over and the newly wedded couple had left England 
 Louise was taken seriously ill ; no one quite knew 
 what was the matter, but she took to her bed, and 
 every one believed that her life was in danger. Charles, 
 always touched by the suffering of his womenkind, 
 came constantly to see her and gave audience to 
 Barillon in her room ; but Louise grew worse and 
 worse, and in a faint voice with crucifix in hand would 
 beg the King to forsake his mistresses for his soul's 
 good. Truly at one moment she seemed at the last 
 extremity, yet three or four days later, feeling a little 
 better, she dragged herself out of bed, had herself 
 properly dressed, and went to the theatre, where the 
 King was witnessing a play acted by a company of 
 French actors, and sitting as close as he possibly could
 
 254 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 to Madame Mazarin. It must have been rather a 
 shock when his dear, white-faced, thin-cheeked Louise 
 settled herself on the other side of him at the very 
 moment in which he was probably wondering whether 
 she was alive or dead. 
 
 The fact was that through some means Louise had 
 become thoroughly frightened ; she had been forced 
 to realize that it was not only her countrywoman she 
 had to fear, but several Englishwomen who were 
 poaching on her preserves. Mrs. Middleton was 
 throwing her daughter in the King's path ; Carey 
 Eraser, a new beauty, and the daughter of the King's 
 physician — with other Court ladies — was in the already 
 noted song mentioned as an aspirant for Louise's 
 post ; and Sidonie de Courcelles, an old friend of 
 Hortense, came too often to England and to the 
 English Court. The sudden conviction was too much 
 for Louise, she left her bed of slow death, grew well, 
 and determined to play the game out to the end. 
 This heroic resolve was followed by a combination 
 on the part of the two Duchesses to keep off new and 
 untried aspirants for Royal favour, and there was for 
 a time a little peace in the domestic surroundings of 
 Charles. 
 
 Though the Duchess of Portsmouth now held a 
 shared position she gradually secured the larger share, 
 and to the end of the King's life was regarded as the 
 one woman to be reckoned with about Charles. No 
 one else, certainly not the Queen, had at Whitehall 
 such splendid apartments, furnished with such ex- 
 travagant luxury. Evelyn goes so far as to say that 
 they contained ten times the richness and glory of 
 poor Catherine's. This must have been partly
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 255 
 
 Catherine's fault in not demanding more than she 
 did, for Charles was more ready to give than to 
 refuse gifts ; it was also partly due to the fact that 
 Charles knew that his wife was a fixture, while Louise 
 could run away if he offended her ; and as she drew 
 from him a more lasting affection than had any other 
 woman he lavished the most absurdly costly articles 
 upon her. Two or three times he had the rooms 
 pulled down and rebuilt and the whole furniture re- 
 newed to satisfy her demands. When Evelyn followed 
 the King one morning, not only into the Duchess of 
 Portsmouth's bedroom, but through it into her dressing- 
 room beyond, " where she was in her morning loose 
 garment, her maids combing her, newly out of her bed, 
 His Majesty and the gallants standing about her," 
 he saw a wonderful collection of tapestry, "for 
 design, tenderness of work, and incomparable imita- 
 tions of the best paintings beyond anything I had 
 ever beheld." There were also Japanese cabinets, 
 screens, pendule clocks, great vases of wrought plate, 
 tables, stands, chimney furniture, sconces, branches, 
 braseras, all of massive silver, besides some of Her 
 Majesty^s best paintings. There is still shown at 
 Windsor Castle a heavy table of silver which once 
 belonged to Charles IL Who knows that its actual 
 owner was not Louise de Keroualle ? 
 
 The parents of Louise were not so shocked at her 
 position as some parents would be, for they visited 
 England in 1675, going to stay, not with either of 
 their daughters, but with Sir Richard Browne, who 
 had lived at Brest before the Restoration, guarding 
 Charles's interest over sea affairs. This was near the 
 home of the Keroualles, and that family had shown
 
 256 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Sir Richard much kindness, which he returned by 
 inviting them to England. He took them to see 
 Evelyn, who said of the father that he was a soldierly 
 person and a good fellow, as the Bretons generally 
 are ; of the lady he pronounced that she had been 
 very handsome and seemed a shrewd understanding 
 woman ; and they all appear to have had a discussion 
 upon that ever fertile subject between those of 
 different nations, language, Evelyn finding that several 
 words of the Breton language were the same as those 
 in the Welsh. From Forneron we learn that they 
 held the title of Count and Countess, and it was 
 said that they derived no profit from the situation 
 or the wealth of either of their daughters. 
 
 Of all the women who amassed money from the 
 irregularity of their lives there was none who 
 equalled Louise ; she was absolutely insatiable. She 
 managed to increase her pension from an annual 
 ^12,000 to ^40,000, and in one year drew no 
 less, by different methods, from the Treasury than 
 j^i 36,668. She trafficked in convicts, selling Royal 
 pardons to those who were rich, and selling the poor 
 men to West India planters, and had many other 
 secret ways of getting money. It was said that she 
 invested it in France, having always in her mind that 
 it would one day probably be necessary for her to fly 
 there for safety, but her subsequent history scarcely 
 bears this out. She certainly spent money lavishly 
 on clothes and entertaining, while she simply threw 
 it away at the gaming-table. 
 
 One example of the way in which she entertained 
 is given us by Evelyn, who received an invitation to 
 dine in what he called " her glorious apartments at
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 257 
 
 Whitehall " on the evening that the Morocco am- 
 bassador and his train were being entertained there. 
 It is worthy of note that it was the Duchess of Ports- 
 mouth and not the Queen who asked the foreign 
 visitors to dinner. The thing which really surprised 
 Mr. Evelyn was the extraordinary moderation and 
 modesty with which the guests behaved. They were 
 all placed about a long table, a lady between two 
 Moors, amongst them being the King's natural 
 daughters, Lady Lichfield and Lady Sussex ; as well 
 as Lady Portsmouth — " Nelly, etc., concubines and 
 cattle of that sort, as splendid as jewels and excess of 
 bravery could make them ; the Moors neither ad- 
 miring nor seeming to regard anything, furniture or 
 the like, with any earnestness, and but decently 
 touching the banquet." At the end they gravely 
 took leave, hoping that God would bless the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth and the Prince, meaning the little 
 Duke of Richmond. 
 
 During the remarkable Titus Oates conspiracy it 
 is not to be wondered at that Louise was frightened 
 to distraction. All Catholics, even the Queen, were 
 in danger. Titus Oates accused Her Majesty of con- 
 spiring to murder Charles, and the House of Commons 
 passed a resolution asking the peers to join them in 
 an address to the King for the removal of the Queen 
 and all papists from his person. The Duchess of 
 Portsmouth had been brought up in a better school 
 than had Barbara Palmer, for she had always been 
 respectful to Catherine, who now turned to her for 
 support in events which terrified them both. Louise 
 thought of retiring to France, an idea which was 
 strengthened when the Parliament demanded the
 
 2S8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 removal o£ herself and Lord Sunderland, proposing 
 to execute them both with other Catholics. 
 
 The Duke of York left England, and Louise felt 
 that she stood utterly alone, for she knew Charles 
 well enough to believe that he would leave her to 
 her fate to save his head, his throne, or even his pocket. 
 However, she waited upon events and things quieted 
 down so that there seemed a breathing space, and 
 Charles turned to her for help in putting himself 
 right with Louis, who was incensed at the marriage 
 of Mary with William of Orange, and who considered 
 that he was paying his money into England without 
 getting proper support in return. 
 
 In 1680 Louise was attacked in what was known 
 as the Prentices' Plot, by which some apprentices 
 took their oaths before the mayor that there was a 
 plot to take out of the Tower Lords Powis, Stafford, 
 Arundel, and Belasyse and burn them with the 
 Duchess of Portsmouth. England had, in fact, lost 
 its head on the subject of Popery, for James had 
 betrayed his true temper in Scotland, and it was a 
 certain thing that Charles would give no legitimate 
 heir to the succession, therefore people looked for- 
 ward with dread to the prospect of having James as 
 king, or of being ruled by France. 
 
 Thus it was that Lady Portsmouth was blamed for 
 whatever happened. Barillon, the French ambassador, 
 said that James was ready to sacrifice her to the hatred 
 of the people, while she was quite ready to save her- 
 self at his expense. All through Lady Sunderland's 
 letters to Henry Sidney we find her speaking of the 
 woman whom she was so glad to befriend ten or fifteen 
 years earlier as " that jade," " that jade such as
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 259 
 
 never was," " so damned a jade," and betraying a 
 really wonderful hatred of her, and this because 
 Louise was making use of the Earl of Sunderland as 
 a buffer. Always hoping for a cessation of the public 
 ferocity, Louise stayed on and took as her course a 
 warm partisanship of the Prince of Orange. But she 
 went farther than this. When the whole nation was 
 in a ferment over the Exclusion Bill she begged the 
 King to give way and not to ruin himself by not 
 acceding to the desire to exclude the Duke of York 
 from the succession, and she openly declared herself 
 on the side of the Commons, who quickly passed the 
 Bill through its three readings. She was urged to 
 this by the idea that it would be possible to get the 
 King to name her son as his successor, and had already 
 made her plans for effecting a match between him 
 and the King of France's natural daughter, later the 
 Duchess of Bourbon. The curious thing was that 
 the Duke of York did not resent this, because the 
 King told him that her supposed support of the 
 Exclusion party was an arranged thing, so that she 
 might have credit with that party and find out their 
 designs. The Bill was thrown out in the Lords, and 
 the Commons revenged themselves by trying and 
 executing Viscount Stafford, a course which it is said 
 was urged on by Louise. French intrigue in England 
 was at this time of so involved a kind that neither 
 Charles nor any one but the French King and his 
 minister really knew why any one either supported 
 or opposed anything, the fact being that Louis XIV's 
 aim was simply to keep England so occupied with her 
 domestic affairs that she had not opportunity to see 
 what he was doing in Europe. Thus it seemed to be
 
 26o FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 against Louis's interest that the Exclusion Bill should 
 pass, yet his emissaries supported it ; Louise was a 
 Catholic, yet she was ready to aim this blow at her 
 Church ; Sunderland, though disgraced for a time 
 for supporting the Bill, was soon restored to power 
 by the compliant King, and every one gaily, though 
 some unconsciously, played the game of France. 
 
 From the King downwards, almost all men of con- 
 sequence were drawing French pensions or presents, 
 though Charles, through his lack of enthusiasm for 
 the Royal intriguer over the Channel, was being kept 
 very short. His physical strength and his will were 
 disappearing under the dissipated sensual life he 
 led, and the only thing he desired was to idle and 
 lounge at ease, and let any who would do the work 
 for him. Yet he seemed to be living in the 
 midst of dissensions and broils, so that for weari- 
 ness' sake he at last fell into the trap, prorogued his 
 Parliament, accepted a large sum of money with a 
 promise of more from Louis, and settled down to a 
 harmonious existence with the only one of his mis- 
 tresses who had shown interest in or understanding of 
 current events, and who had assisted him with her 
 counsel, however malevolent that had been for his 
 country. For the first time since the advent of the 
 Duchess Mazarin in England Louise felt a real confi- 
 dence in her Royal master, and she used this oppor- 
 tunity to visit France, where at long last she was 
 allowed the privilege of the tabouret — a somewhat 
 poor privilege, for though the honour conferred the 
 right of remaining seated in the presence of the French 
 Queen, the tabouret itself upon which she sat was 
 an uncomfortable stool with neither arms nor back.
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 261 
 
 Louise was so well received by the King of France 
 that she made a Royal progress through the country. 
 In Paris she was treated with all honour ; one day 
 she went to visit the Capuchin friars, and they turned 
 out in procession with cross, holy water, and incense 
 to receive her, as though she were a saint. The deep 
 respect shown her in her own country actually affected 
 all classes in England, so that when she returned she 
 found — what she had never before been allowed to 
 realize in her adopted country — that she was a person 
 of great importance, and that English people stood 
 in the streets to gaze upon — not, as usual, to curse — 
 Madame " Carwell," or " Charwell," as they called 
 her. The Queen became a mere nobody com- 
 pared with her, and dire punishment fell upon any 
 person who was heard to question her character. Yet 
 Louise was rash enough to play with her position by 
 indulging in her amorous intrigue with the Abbe 
 Vendome, the Grand Prior of France, making her 
 French allies very uncomfortable and giving Charles 
 some jealous moments. However, he was ordered out 
 of the kingdom, and the King grew more, rather than 
 less devoted to his mistress. So that Louise really 
 thought she saw the hope of her life coming to its 
 fulfilment. She gained from Louis the duchy as well 
 as the estate of Aubigny, with reversion to her son, of 
 whom he wrote as " our very dear and well-beloved 
 cousin. Prince Charles Lennox, Duke of Richmond," 
 and the boy and his mother were endowed with all 
 the privileges and liberties of French nobility. In 
 matters of State as well as in foreign affairs Louise, not 
 the Queen, was consulted ; Rochester and Godolphin 
 were her satellites ; Barillon accepted her views and
 
 262 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 her advice. She was in effect not only Queen but 
 King o£ England, and she bitterly deplored the fact 
 that the Exclusion Bill had not passed. 
 
 Charles at fifty-two was an old man ; he had lived 
 not wisely but too well, and his energies were already 
 dying. It may be that the Duchess hoped to bend 
 him to her will ; if so, she would probably have suc- 
 ceeded, for it was remarked that there was a strange- 
 ness and coldness between Charles and his brother 
 James, and that the King talked of sending James to 
 Scotland, upon which his brother answered that there 
 was no need ; and to this the King replied that one 
 must go, either the Duke or himself. The Duke of 
 Monmouth too came to England on a secret visit, 
 and though he saw only Barillon and Louise he went 
 away again, evidently looking forward to pleasant 
 things. Burnet says that something was hatching at 
 the Duchess of Portsmouth's house, though no one 
 knew what ; but it is not hard to guess that the 
 succession was entirely to the front in the French- 
 woman's mind. She was astute enough to see that 
 Charles was nearing the end of his life, and she had 
 amassed and invested in France great sums of money ; 
 but she probably thought it worth while to try for 
 higher game, and was scheming with all the finesse of 
 which she was capable. 
 
 Evelyn went to Court on Sunday February 1st, 
 1685, the day before, it was whispered, the King 
 intended going through the Treasury books, dismissing 
 Rochester — perhaps to the Tower — and making various 
 other reforms. Charles, half asleep, was in his chair 
 toying with Madame Mazarin, Lady Portsmouth, and 
 Lady Cleveland, who was again living in England.
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 263 
 
 Groups of innumerable wax candles lighted the great 
 hall, in one part of which about twenty people were 
 gathered round the basset-tables, with at least two 
 thousand golden pieces before them. There was a 
 ripple of laughter and talk, with the occasional fall 
 of a coin, while Hortense's French page struck the 
 strings of his lute and sang a French song of love : all 
 was light, colour, and warmth ; not at all the scene 
 which staid gentlemen of respectable habits desired 
 to see on the Sabbath. But it was the last scene of 
 Charles's Court to which private subjects ever had 
 access. The licentious, mad-cap, luxurious, and irre- 
 sponsible reign was over ; it ended for the world 
 to the chirrup of a love-song, the clinking of gold, 
 and the lazy love-making of a moribund Royal lover 
 to three mistresses at once. Truly a fitting end ! 
 
 Charles felt out of sorts that night and went to 
 Louise's apartments for a basin of " spoon food." 
 Of this he ate little, went to bed, and passed a sleepless 
 night. When he rose in the morning — he was never a 
 late riser — his physician, who had been ordered to be 
 present, could not understand what he said, and when 
 he stood up he almost immediately staggered and 
 fell in a fit, " like an apoplexy." He was bled over 
 and over again and tortured according to the custom 
 of those times ; a hot warming-pan was applied to 
 his head, and some disgusting essence, distilled from 
 putrid human skulls, was forced into his mouth. In 
 spite of all this he recovered consciousness, but strange 
 to relate, the loss of so much blood did not give him 
 strength and he died on the following Friday. 
 
 The Queen was constantly in his room, and her 
 being there naturally dislodged the Duchess of Ports-
 
 264 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 mouth, who had been hanging over the King's bed 
 until then. M. Barillon was in Whitehall all day 
 during the Thursday. He retired for some time to 
 the Duchess of Portsmouth's apartments and found 
 her overwhelmed with grief, the physicians having 
 deprived her of all hope. Yet she did not speak of 
 her sorrow. " She led me into a closet and said to 
 me : ' Monsieur Ambassador, I am going to tell you 
 one of the greatest secrets in the world, and if it were 
 known it would deprive me of my head. At the bottom 
 of his heart the King of England is a Catholic ; but 
 he is surrounded with Protestant Bishops, and nobody 
 informs him of his situation or speaks to him of God. 
 I cannot with decency again enter his room ; besides, 
 the Queen is almost always there. The Duke of York 
 is busied with his affairs, and these are too important 
 to allow him to take that care which he ought about 
 the conscience of the King. Go and tell him I have 
 conjured you to advise him to think on what can 
 be done to save the King's soul — he is master of the 
 King's room, and can cause to withdraw whoever he 
 pleases. Lose no time, for if there be the least hesita- 
 tion it will be too late." 
 
 Barillon went back to the King's room and whis- 
 pered to the Duke to go to the Queen's apartment, 
 for she had fainted, and as a consequence had been 
 bled and carried to her own room, which communi- 
 cated with the King's ante-room. Barillon followed 
 him and there told him what the Duchess had said ; 
 to which James answered : " You are right, there is 
 no time to lose. I will sooner hazard everything than 
 not do my duty on this occasion." 
 
 The Duke returned later saying the King refused
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 265 
 
 to take the sacraments offered him by the Protestant 
 Bishops, who would remain around him. They 
 thought of various ways of clearing the room. Barillon 
 was to pretend to give a private message from Louis 
 of France ; the Queen was to be brought in to take 
 a last farewell ; at length it was decided that James 
 should whisper quietly to his brother and find out 
 his wishes. So the two returned to the King's cham- 
 ber, and the Duke, forbidding any one to come nigh, 
 stooped and said something in Charles's ears, to which 
 he answered aloud : 
 
 " Yes, with all my heart." 
 
 " Shall I bring a priest ? " 
 
 " Do, brother, for God's sake do, and lose no time. 
 But no, you will get into trouble." 
 
 " If it costs me my life," said the Duke, " I will 
 fetch a priest." 
 
 A Benedictine monk, named John Huddleston, who 
 had saved the King's life after the battle of Worcester 
 and thus was a privileged person, was in Whitehall, and 
 he was brought in readiness up that back stair close 
 to the bed-head which had so often opened to admit 
 the votaries of the heathen goddess of love. He was 
 quite ready again to serve his King at the risk of his 
 life, and though too ignorant to know his part in the 
 ceremony, he was quickly tutored. James then com- 
 manded all who were in the room to withdraw ex- 
 cepting the Earl of Feversham and the Earl of Bath, 
 upon whom he thought he could rely, and the doors 
 being closed, Huddleston entered. The whole cere- 
 mony occupied about three-quarters of an hour, and 
 the King seemed much relieved by what had passed. 
 His natural sons were brought to his bedside : Grafton,
 
 266 FAIR LADIES OF HAIMPTON COURT 
 
 Southampton, and Northumberland, sons of Barbara ; 
 St. Albans, the surviving of Nell Gwyn's two sons ; 
 and Richmond, who could never now be King of 
 England. Monmouth was still in exile, and his name 
 did not pass his father's lips, in spite of the love 
 Charles had shown him. Charles blessed all the young 
 Dukes who surrounded him and spoke with great 
 affection to Richmond ; then turning to James he 
 implored him to see after the Duchess of Richmond 
 and her son. " And do not let poor Nelly starve ! " 
 he added. The Queen was still too upset to return 
 to his room, but sent him a message imploring his 
 pardon for any offence she might have committed. 
 
 " She asks my pardon, poor woman," said Charles. 
 " I ask hers with all my heart." 
 
 In his life Charles had been witty and courteous, 
 and in his death he was the same. When morning 
 dawned he apologized to those who had stood round 
 him all night, saying, " I have been a most uncon- 
 scionable time dying, but I hope you will excuse 
 
 me!" 
 
 The popular cry of poison was at once raised, for 
 Charles, in spite of all his faults, was much loved 
 by his people. Bishop Burnet more than half believed 
 the charge to be true and tells a curious story which 
 he heard in November, 1709, from Mr. Henley, of 
 Hampshire, father of the Lord Keeper. This gentle- 
 man saw the Duchess of Portsmouth when she was in 
 England in 1699, and she told him that " she was 
 always pressing the King to make both himself and 
 his people easy, and to come to a full agreement with 
 his Parliament, and he was come to a final resolu- 
 tion of sending away his brother and calling a Parlia-
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 267 
 
 ment, which was to be executed the next day after 
 he fell into that fit of which he died. She was put 
 upon the secret, and spoke of it to no person alive, 
 but to her confessor ; but the confessor she believed 
 told it to some who, seeing what was to follow, took 
 that wicked course to prevent it." 
 
 As soon as Charles was dead Louise fled to the 
 house of the French ambassador, and an hour after 
 James was proclaimed he sought her there to assure 
 her of his protection and friendship, for he wished 
 to stand sufficiently well with King Louis as to share 
 in the distribution of French gold. But he removed 
 little Richmond from the post of Grand Equerry, 
 saying that it was too onerous a post for a lad of 
 thirteen to fill. 
 
 Louise knew that her reign now was ended, she 
 knew also that she was so much hated in England 
 that when Parliament met it would initiate an attack 
 upon her, so she was anxious to leave England as soon 
 as possible ; but she had been forbidden to do so 
 until she had paid her debts : thus the matter of money 
 alone remained to be settled. She had drawn ^^i 0,000 
 in gold as soon as Charles was dead, she secured from 
 James an estate of ^^5000, and held an income of 
 j^2000 from the confiscated estates of Earl Grey 
 until her son came of age ; besides this, she had her 
 furniture and her jewels and money invested in 
 France. James promised that her rooms at Whitehall 
 should be kept for her use and that he would befriend 
 her and her son. She left England in August, 1685, 
 while still a young woman, with fifty years of life 
 before her. 
 
 These fifty years were spent mostly at Aubigny,
 
 268 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 incurring debt and getting year after year an order 
 from the King to stop her creditors from seizing her 
 effects. Louis seldom forgot the aid she had given 
 him and was always ready to help her out of a difficulty. 
 That he was called upon very often for his obliging 
 assistance is not to be wondered at when the Duchess's 
 extravagance is considered. In 17 14 she went to 
 Paris on a visit, and her sheaf of bills included such 
 unconsidered — and probably unpaid — triffes as ^^^Z 
 for stuff for liveries, and ^1860 for furniture and 
 the making of habits. Louise's son, Charles, a true son 
 of Charles II, deserted her as soon as he came into his 
 own income, and went to England. He died in 1723, 
 " the most hideous old rake." Under William III 
 the Duchess's pension was withdrawn, and in 1691 
 her rooms at Whitehall were burned down. Evelyn 
 speaks of the latter occurrence with his usual frank- 
 ness. " This night a sudden and terrible fire burnt down 
 all the buildings over the stone gallery at Whitehall 
 to the waterside, beginning at the apartments of the 
 late Duchess of Portsmouth and consuming other 
 lodgings of such lewd creatures, who debauched both 
 King Charles and others, and were his destruction." 
 
 A year after she left England Louise came back, 
 and it is said that either Louis had some suspicions 
 about the motive for this journey, or she had been 
 talking too freely of Madame de Maintenon ; in any 
 case a lettre de cachet was drawn up for her exile, 
 but through the good office of Courtin it was never 
 signed, and from that time Louis continued to be 
 her friend. In later years she often came to England, 
 and once in the palace of George I there was a re- 
 markable meeting of herself, Catherine Sedlcy,Duchess
 
 LOUISE RENEE DE KEROUALLE 269 
 
 of Dorchester, who had given Mary o£ Modena so 
 much affliction, and Lady Orkney, that EUzabeth 
 ViUiers who had ruined the marital happiness of 
 Queen Mary IL The irrepressible and plain-spoken 
 Catherine said in surprise, " Who would have thought 
 
 we three should meet here ? " 
 
 In her old age Louise remained at Aubigny, founded 
 a convent of hospital nuns, and decorated churches, 
 dying in 1734 at the age of eighty-five. Her pension 
 of ^19,000, which had been granted to her by Charles 
 and sequestrated by William, was restored to her son by 
 the British Parliament, and the Duke of Richmond 
 drew this amount until a quarter of a century ago, 
 when it was commuted for a sum of nearly ^^500,000. 
 Thus did England reward the descendants of the 
 Frenchwoman who dragged her through humiliation 
 in the service of a French King !
 
 PART III 
 
 SIR GODFREY KNELLER
 
 SIR GODFREY KNELLER 
 
 " Nature and art in thee alike contend, 
 Not to oppose each other, but befriend ; 
 For what thy fancy has with fire design'd, 
 Is by thy skill both temper 'd and refin'd. 
 As in thy pictures light consents with shade, 
 And each to other is subservient made, 
 Judgment and genius so concur in thee, 
 And both unite in perfect harmony. 
 
 But after-days, my Friend ! must do thee right, 
 And set thy virtues in unenvy'd light. 
 Fame due to vast desert is kept in store. 
 Unpaid till the deserver is no more ; 
 Yet thou in present the best part hath gain'd, 
 And from the chosen few applause obtain'd : 
 Ev'n he who best could judge and best could praise, 
 Has high extoll'd thee in his deathless lays : 
 Ev'n Dryden has immortalized thy name ; 
 Let that alone suffice thee, think that fame." 
 
 William Congreve.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 CAREY FRASER, COUNTESS OF PETER- 
 BOROUGH 
 
 " What god, what genius did the pencil move, 
 When Kneller painted these ! " 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The Chevalier de Gramont has crystalHzed in words 
 some characters and descriptions which are Hkely to 
 last so long as humanity reads books. Through him 
 we know much about people whose very names would 
 have died from memory and history had he not 
 written them in his pages. Had he never told us of 
 Miss Hamilton we should have known no more of her 
 than we do of Miss Pitt ; Mrs. Middleton would 
 have merely been an uninteresting frequenter of the 
 Courts of Mary of Modena and Anne ; Lady Den- 
 ham's story would have been told in two lines, and 
 we might even have been deluded by forget- 
 fulness into believing James, Duke of York, an ex- 
 emplary husband. 
 
 Alas ! Gramont knew not England when WilHam HI 
 reigned, and he had no successor to give us the lighter 
 side of Court life — perhaps that is why we do not 
 believe that there was any lighter side, why it is so 
 dull to us and sordid with the stale aroma of past 
 banquets, faded flowers, and retribution for sins. 
 What does any one know of Carey Eraser, Isabella 
 
 s 273
 
 274 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Bennet, or Mary Compton ? The identity of Lady 
 Middleton has baffled all but one painstaking bio- 
 grapher, G. S. Steinman. Were they maids of 
 honour or ladies of the bedchamber ? Even Miss 
 Strickland is dumb concerning them. She too did 
 not know the names of the women who surrounded 
 Queen Mary, though they must have been in attend- 
 ance upon Her Majesty, doing their daily work, 
 and living lives which, though they appear to us to 
 have been prosaic and unnoteworthy, may have held 
 as much excitement as the lives of their mothers. 
 
 We look into the biography of Lord Peterborough 
 to seek information about his wife, and the first thing 
 we find is the curious fact that she is given two fathers. 
 On one page she is said to be the daughter of Sir 
 Peter Eraser, Bart., of Dotes or Durries, in the shire 
 of Mearns — Kincardine — in Scotland, and that she 
 was a " highly estimable and accomplished lady." 
 On another page she is given as the daughter of Sir 
 Alexander Eraser, Knt., and was married some time 
 before 1688. Evelyn speaks of having Sir Alexander, 
 prime physician to the King, to dine with him in 
 June, 1666, most certainly the same man. Erom all 
 that is to be gathered from the many volumes con- 
 sulted for these memoirs, Carey was the daughter of 
 Dr. Eraser, who wandered from Paris to Holland with 
 the rest of Charles's homeless followers during the 
 Commonwealth, the doctor of whom Clarendon said, 
 " No doubt he is good at his business, otherwise the 
 maddest fool alive." After the Restoration Charles 
 knighted his faithful doctor and kept him always about 
 the Court. 
 
 The description of the daughter as highly estimable
 
 Carey Fkasek, Countess of Peterborouch 
 {After Kneller^ 
 
 [to face page 274
 
 CAREY ERASER 275 
 
 and accomplished is grave and correct in sentiment, 
 though it needs a great deal of embroidering to make 
 it fit the lady, for it scarcely indicates the character 
 of Carey as a girl. In her youth, when maid of honour 
 to Queen Mary of Modena, she was a giddy, extrava- 
 gant young creature, neither better nor worse than 
 those who shared her position. The first literary 
 mention we have of her is in 1675, in the masque of 
 Calisto (written by that fertile but undistinguished 
 dramatist John Crowne), which was acted by the ladies 
 of the Court. The chief characters were taken by 
 Princesses Mary and Anne, Lady Henrietta Went- 
 worth, who fell in love so tragically with the Duke 
 of Monmouth, the Countess of Sussex [Lady Cleve- 
 land's daughter]. Lady Mary Mordaunt, Sarah Jen- 
 nings, and Miss Blague. Among the nymphs attend- 
 ing upon Diana we find Carey Eraser's name. 
 
 The next year there was every reason to believe 
 that she would have married Sir Carr Scrope, a 
 versifier and man of fashion, who was greatly attracted 
 by her elegance and good looks. One would have 
 thought them a well-matched pair, for both loved 
 dress too well ; but one evening, when Carey looked 
 particularly lovely and the matter seemed near being 
 settled, she told him heedlessly that her gown had cost 
 jf300. The news paralysed the young man's inten- 
 tions, fear killed his love, and Carey lost her gallant. 
 
 During that period there was no stranger, wilder 
 person among the noble families than young Charles 
 Mordaunt, the eldest son of John Mordaunt and 
 nephew of the Earl of Peterborough. He matriculated 
 at Christ Church, Oxford, in 1674, ^^ ^^^ ^%^ °f ^^^~ 
 teen, and the same year entered as a volunteer on
 
 2/6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 board the Cambridge. He was one of the most curious 
 contradictions in his character, graceful and pleasant 
 to look at, imaginative and clever, but with a mind 
 obsessed by tales of blood and deeds of daring, such 
 as we nowadays ascribe to the influence of the penny 
 dreadful. 
 
 After his death his widow went through a manu- 
 script autobiography which he had amused himself 
 by writing when he was old and out of public life, 
 and to her horror she found that he had committed 
 three capital crimes before he was twenty. This so 
 shocked her that she threw the book into the fire. It 
 is, however, very probable that most of the Earl's 
 assertions were the result of a vivid imagination. 
 
 Charles Mordaunt was a rover by nature, and his 
 love of change showed itself several times over in 
 early life in the usual youthful way, the desire to go 
 to sea. As the annotator of Burnet says, he was " grace- 
 ful and elegant in his manners and person, and a 
 favourite with the Muses, yet he seemed emulous of 
 mixing only with the rough, and the then untutored, 
 brave tars of the ocean." When he got a little tired 
 of the brave tars young Mordaunt came home, having 
 in the meantime become Viscount Mordaunt through 
 the death of his father. 
 
 Then he had a thorough change, posed as a gallant, 
 dressed like a beau, and went to Court, naturally 
 meeting the various maids of honour. He no sooner 
 looked at Carey Eraser than he found that he had 
 discovered the one woman in the world to make him 
 happy, and the two young people were promptly 
 married, though he was barely twenty and she was 
 younger. It is very possible that they derived much
 
 CAREY FRASER 277 
 
 happiness from their union during the first year, 
 though it is fairly certain that they did not set up 
 housekeeping together, and that the world knew 
 nothing of the marriage. In October of 1678 the 
 young husband again obeyed the call of the wild, and 
 volunteered in the Bristol, sailing in her for the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 A little later scandal pointed its finger not at Lady 
 Mordaunt, but at Mrs. Carey Eraser, a scandal which 
 was directed towards intention rather than fact. The 
 illness of Louise de Keroualle, which occurred to- 
 wards the end of the seventh decade, has already been 
 described. It will be remembered that when she had 
 scarcely turned the corner, she rose from her bed 
 one day, had herself dressed, and went to the play, 
 to which Charles had taken the Duchess Mazarin. The 
 reason given for this extraordinary behaviour is, as has 
 been said, that she had learned that various Court ladies 
 were competing for her place in the King's affections 
 and life, among those mentioned being Carey Eraser. 
 The lampoon of " Cullen with His Elock of Misses " 
 puts her name fairly low down in the list of aspirants ; 
 but as the woman last named was said to be the chosen 
 favourite, Carey may thus have been said to stand 
 high in the King's regard. The whole scandal may 
 have been entirely untrue, but it at least gives evi- 
 dence that, though she was a wife, she was but an un- 
 acknowledged one at this time. Her husband was 
 practically out of England until late in 1680, though 
 he came back for short periods. In June of that year 
 we learn from a letter of Lady Dorothy Russell 
 (Sacharissa) that Lord Mordaunt was sent out with 
 the expedition to Tangier, and she adds the informa-
 
 278 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 tion that " there are few who doubt the fact of his 
 marriage, and that he already repents and is ashamed 
 of it." 
 
 The expedition being over, Lord Mordaunt settled 
 down in a house at Fulham, presumably with his wife, 
 though she is not mentioned, for their eldest son was 
 born about that time. It was probably this event 
 which forced the erratic but not unkind man to acknow- 
 ledge his marriage. He also took his seat in the House 
 of Lords and charmed his colleagues with his oratory. 
 On the accession of James, however, he again became 
 a traveller, and plotted towards settling " the business 
 of England " in relation to William of Orange, during 
 whose reign he was high in favour. In 1697 he 
 became Earl of Peterborough by the death of his 
 uncle. 
 
 Of his wife scarcely anything more is known. 
 Peterborough's biographers, when speaking of her, 
 adopt the apologetic tone for her husband : " Domestic 
 life was not his forte. He never had any formal quarrel 
 or estrangement with his wife ; notwithstanding his 
 gallantries, delinquencies, etc., she always watched 
 over his interests. . . . All his references in letters to 
 his family are affectionate, nor does he appear to have 
 had any open quarrel with his wife, of whom for 
 many years he saw but little." 
 
 After taking Barcelona in 1705 Lord Peterborough 
 wrote to Carey : " I can now give you joy upon taking 
 Barcelona, which is effected. I can modestly say such 
 an attempt was never made by such a handful of 
 men. We have taken in three days the Castle of 
 Montjuick, sword in hand, that resisted 30,000 men 
 three months. There were 500 men in it. We marched
 
 CAREY FRASER 279 
 
 with 1000 men thirteen hours, and with scaling ladders 
 took a place upon a rock, much stronger than Ports- 
 mouth, and had but 800 men, 200 having lost us in 
 the night. ... I would rather you should hear of 
 this earlier from others than myself." 
 
 However gratifying it may have been to receive 
 letters of this sort, they could scarcely have compen- 
 sated for a lonely life such as that led domestically by 
 Lady Peterborough. 
 
 Peterborough was as inconstant and erratic in love 
 as he was in all other matters ; it was true of him that 
 he was " to one thing constant never." He liked to 
 fly over the Continent faster than a travelling courier, 
 and it is said that " he saw more Kings and postillions 
 than any man in Europe." When he captivated Carey 
 Eraser he possessed aquiline and regular features, with 
 blue eyes of an extreme brightness and vivacity which 
 had in them a " peculiar look of devilment." As he 
 grew older he became extremely thin, so that Swift 
 said of him that he was 
 
 " A skeleton in outward form, 
 His meagre corpse, though full of vigour, 
 Would halt behind him were it bigger." 
 
 Pope wrote of him that " nobody could be more 
 wasted, no soul can be more alive." 
 
 There were three children born of this marriage, 
 two boys and a girl. His eldest son wished to marry 
 Marlborough's daughter. Lady Mary Churchill, but 
 the Duke refused the alliance because of the dissolute 
 character of the young man. These sons died within 
 two months of each other of smallpox in 17 10, when 
 the eldest was thirty. The daughter married the 
 second Duke of Gordon. Their mother did not live
 
 28o FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 to see her boys pass away, for she died in May, 
 1709. 
 
 Later Peterborough fell in love with Anastasia 
 Robinson, the singer, whom, it might be said, true 
 to his custom, he married secretly and acknowledged 
 only a little while before his death.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 FRANCES WHITMORE, LADY MIDDLETON 
 
 " If you truly note her face, 
 You shall find it hath a grace 
 Neither wanton, nor o'er serious, 
 Nor too yielding, nor imperious." 
 
 George Wither. 
 
 Lady Middleton has often been confused with Mrs. 
 Middleton, renowned as the first professional beauty 
 that England has ever known, but at the date when 
 Mrs. Middleton was encouraging the attentions of 
 three lovers at once, Frances Whitmore, later Lady 
 Middleton, was not in existence, for her birth did 
 not take place until October, 1666. She must have 
 been the eldest of Lady Whitmore's three daughters, 
 for Frances Denham did not marry until 1665. It is 
 possible that the Whitmores were staying at the time 
 in Durham, as the baby was baptized in Stockton. 
 Her father and mother were evidently well imbued 
 with the social fashions of the times, for they made a 
 contract of marriage for their daughter before she 
 was nine years old, and it was done with all ceremony 
 under a licence from the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 the youthful bridegroom being her cousin William 
 Whitmore, son of William Whitmore who possessed a 
 mansion at Barnes, or Balmes, between Hoxton and 
 Kingsland, and who was a member of a great City 
 
 281
 
 282 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 firm of merchants. In November, 1679, when the 
 girl was just thirteen and the boy fourteen, the 
 marriage took place in Hackney Church. 
 
 At what age this young couple began to share the 
 same home is not told us, but they were staid man 
 and wife between four and five years later, when 
 death stepped in and dissolved the marriage. William 
 Whitmore had been to Epsom and was driving home 
 alone in his coach, with his pistol lying on the seat 
 beside him. By some accident the weapon went off 
 and buried its contents in its owner's legs. Young as 
 he was the lad made the best use he could of the few 
 hours of life remaining to him, and he must have 
 been much in love with his girl wife, for he made his 
 will, leaving all he possessed to her, and then died. 
 This was on July 31st, and four days later the prudent 
 Mrs. Whitmore, in her anxiety to be absolutely cer- 
 tain of her property, proved the will, thus provoking 
 from her historian a pious hope that it was after she 
 had laid her husband's remains with those of his 
 father in the chancel of Ramsey Church, Essex. 
 William Whitmore was buried, as seems to have 
 been a favourite custom of the time, under his 
 own pew, and a black marble stone formed alike a 
 memorial to him and the floor upon which his suc- 
 cessors trod. 
 
 How long or how much the fair Frances mourned 
 her husband's early death it is not easy to say, but 
 in nine months she found time to do that, to amuse 
 herself in passing under review those young men who 
 were ready to take the widow and her income, and 
 to get married. One of the aspirants for her hand 
 was Edward, Viscount Cornbury, third Earl of
 
 Frances Whitmore, I.adv Middleton 
 f^Afto- A'licl/cr) 
 
 [to face face 282
 
 FRANCES WHITMORE 283 
 
 Clarendon, " twice-jilted Cornbuiy," as a verse in 
 the State Poems describes him : 
 
 " The next fine widow Whitmore, she 
 
 Is told of gentle Cornb ; 
 
 But the sly wight secur'd the Prey 
 And flying bore the nymph away." 
 
 The " sly wight " whom she married in April, 
 1685, was Sir Richard Middleton, third baronet, who 
 owned Chirk Castle, and who was for thirty years 
 Member of Parhament for Denbighshire. He was 
 also nephew to Mrs. Jane Middleton's husband. For 
 nine years the Middletons pleased or teased each 
 other, and then Frances died, being only twenty- 
 eight years old, predeceasing her husband by twenty- 
 two years. 
 
 In this account there is no reason shown as to why 
 she should have been included in the Court Beauties, 
 and for this omission the curious reticence concerning 
 the doings at the Courts of Mary and Anne must be 
 blamed. Only one woman of that period has really 
 been much mentioned in history, Sarah, Duchess of 
 Marlborough, and she took up so much attention 
 that she filled the whole canvas almost from the time 
 of her girlhood.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 ISABELLA BENNET, DUCHESS OF GRAFTON 
 
 " You took her up a little tender flower, 
 Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frost 
 Had nipped ; and, with a careful loving hand, 
 Transplanted her into your own fair garden. 
 Where the sun always shines ; there long she flourished, 
 Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye." 
 
 Thomas Otzvay. 
 
 When Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington, met with 
 his repulse at the hands of the silly Frances Stuart, 
 he was said to make up his mind immediately not to 
 appear as a disconsolate lover ; and in order to keep 
 to this resolution he went over to Holland to find a 
 wife. The lady he chose and who accepted him was, 
 but for the bend sinister, of high birth, being 
 granddaughter of Maurice, Prince of Orange, and 
 daughter of Lewis de Nassau, Lord Beverwaert. 
 Arlington was not a popular man — the Marquis de 
 Ruvigny once said of him that he would sell his soul 
 to the devil to worst an enemy — but he won his bride 
 quickly enough and brought her back to England. 
 They had but one child, the little Isabella, whose 
 marriage occasioned almost as great a stir and as many 
 heart-burnings as did the second marriage of Elizabeth 
 Percy. 
 
 Lady Arlington and Lady Sunderland soon became 
 great friends, and were on intimate terms for years. 
 
 284
 
 Isabella Bennet, Duchess of Grafton 
 (^After Kucller') 
 
 [to face page 284
 
 ISABELLA BENNET 285 
 
 They, at the instigation of the French ambassador, 
 promoted the mock marriage between Louise de 
 Keroualle and Charles II ; they constantly visited 
 each other and made plans together for the future. 
 If there was one subject which seemed to need the 
 earnest thought of English ladies at that time, it was 
 the settling of their children matrimonially. As soon 
 as a child was born the mother began to cast about 
 for its possible partner, looking particularly for what 
 she considered a suitable position with suitable w^ealth ; 
 which of course generally meant that the other child 
 should have a higher position and more wealth than 
 her own. Logically carried out this would bring 
 about no marriages at all; but the whole matter was 
 one of bargain, and the bargainers always allowed a 
 margin in their demand which could be reduced 
 when they really came to business. 
 
 About the same time that Lady Arlington's daugh- 
 ter was born Lady Sunderland gave birth to a son, 
 and there was something of a promise between the 
 two mothers that their children should be given to 
 each other in marriage. Both the husbands were 
 rising men, inclined to amass wealth and honours, 
 and all things considered, the match promised to be 
 satisfactory to both sides. The fathers also spoke of 
 this idea and agreed that the arrangement would be 
 a pleasant one for the advancement of both families. 
 
 But they had all reckoned without a certain lady 
 who, feeling that things were not going well with 
 her, determined to gather as much wealth around 
 her as possible before she owned herself defeated. 
 After the advent of the French " miss " Lady Castle- 
 maine knew that her reign was over, so she first secured
 
 286 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 titles, houses, and estates for herself ; then she de- 
 manded safeguards against poverty for her children. 
 One of the safeguards she coveted was little Isabella 
 Bennet, an infant not then five years old. Barbara 
 went as usual to Charles with her idea, and after 
 much discussion he was badgered into demanding the 
 child as a bride for Henry Fitzroy, the second 
 son, then eight years old. This demand fell like 
 a bomb into the household of Euston, where the 
 first impulse was to refuse compliance. Barbara, 
 though of high lineage, was disliked everywhere for 
 her coarse, low manners and her bad reputation ; 
 while it was known that her children were being 
 brought up in the most casual fashion, with little 
 education, spoiled by their erratic mother one day 
 and buffeted the next. Various feeble attempts were 
 made to escape the suggested alliance, but a king's word 
 was arbitrary in those days, even over the private affairs 
 of a subject, and the betrothal duly took place on 
 August 1st, 1672, when little Isabella was four and 
 a half years old. Archbishop Sheldon performed 
 the ceremony in the presence of the King and all 
 the Court. John Evelyn, who attended, records in 
 melancholy fashion that " I had a favour given me 
 by my Lady ; but took no great joy at the thing for 
 many reasons." 
 
 In July, before this marriage contract took place, 
 Buckingham, who in versatile mood was always ready 
 to interfere in other people's concerns, tried to per- 
 suade Charles not to let the arrangements for the 
 union go on, as he knew of a bride who was much 
 better suited to his son, this being Elizabeth Percy, 
 then about a year older than Isabella. Charles, how-
 
 ISABELLA BENNET 287 
 
 ever, said that his proposition came too late, the other 
 matter being concluded. 
 
 Through the years that intervened between this 
 event and the actual marriage in 1679, ^^'^^^ the con- 
 tracting parties were respectively fifteen and twelve, 
 the dissatisfaction of Lord and Lady Arlington 
 augmented rather than lessened, and rumours were 
 constantly afloat, even as late as 1678, that the match 
 was broken off. The Sunderlands were sore about 
 it, Lord Sunderland complaining openly of Arlington 
 and saying that he held his promise for his daughter's 
 marrying his son. In the meanwhile the boy had 
 been made Earl of Euston — the name being taken 
 from Arlington's country seat — and had in 1675 re- 
 ceived the title of Duke of Grafton. 
 
 As the marriage really seemed quite inevitable, 
 Arlington thought the only thing to do was to make 
 the best of it and train the bridegroom as well as 
 he could for his position in life. To this end he in- 
 vited the boy to Euston that he might know him 
 better, but Barbara, probably aware of her child's 
 deficiency in manners, refused to let him go. Then 
 Arlington appealed to the King, who said he should 
 go, and the Chamberlain took the boy with him. After 
 this he made plans for having him properly taught, 
 but once again Barbara strongly objected ; she would 
 not and could not part with him, she said, and in fact 
 she did not care " for any education other than what 
 nature and herself can give him, which will be suffi- 
 cient accomplishment for a married man." 
 
 Then suddenly, on November 6th, 1679, when it 
 had for long been common talk that the second 
 marriage would never take place, it was solemnized
 
 288 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 at Whitehall in the apartments of the Lord Chamber- 
 lain — for Lord Arlington held this post — by the Bishop 
 of Rochester. 
 
 The ceremony had probably been hurried on by 
 Barbara Cleveland, who had come back to England 
 on a visit, and who had no idea of seeing this matri- 
 monial prize slip out of the reach of her family. The 
 King was present, and at the subsequent supper sat 
 between the Duchess of Cleveland and " the sweet 
 Duchess, the bride." Evelyn, who had been invited, 
 was full of foreboding and commiseration : " I con- 
 fess I could give her [Lady Arlington] little joy, and 
 so I plainly told her, but she said the King would 
 have it so, and there was no going back. This sweetest, 
 hopefullest, most beautiful child, and most virtuous 
 too, was sacrificed to a boy that had been rudely bred, 
 without anything to encourage them but His Majesty's 
 pleasure. I pray God the sweet child find it to her 
 advantage, who, if my augury deceive me not, will in 
 few years be such a paragon as were fit to make the 
 wife of the greatest Prince in Europe ! I staid supper, 
 where His Majesty sat between the Duchess of Cleve- 
 land (the mother of the Duke of Grafton) and the 
 sweet Duchess, the bride ; there were several great 
 persons and ladies, without pomp. My love to my 
 Lord Arlington's family and the sweet child made 
 me behold all this with regret, though as the Duke of 
 Grafton affects the sea, to which I find his father 
 intends to use him, he may emerge a plain, useful, 
 and robust officer ; and were he poHshed, a tolerable 
 person." 
 
 Evelyn was perhaps too much affected by the 
 knowledge of what Barbara, the boy's mother, was
 
 ISABELLA BENNET 289 
 
 in character, to be quite fair to the young untried 
 bridegroom. As a matter of fact, the Duke of Grafton 
 was certainly the most gallant of Charles's six sons 
 who grew to manhood, and he unfortunately died in 
 battle in 1690, before he was thirty. He was besides 
 extremely handsome, far more so than any of Charles's 
 other children excepting the Duke of Monmouth. 
 He was sent as a volunteer to learn his profession 
 under Sir John Berry, and had one honour after 
 another heaped upon him, being made Knight of 
 the Garter, an Elder Brother of Trinity House, Colonel 
 of the first Foot Guards, and, on the death of Prince 
 Rupert, Vice-Admiral of England. He was Lord 
 High Constable at the coronation of James H, and 
 active in suppressing the Monmouth rebellion. 
 
 Lord Arlington had built for himself a noble house 
 at Euston, in Suffolk. Macaulay speaks of its " stately 
 pavilions, the fish-ponds, the deer-park, and the 
 orangery " ; and this palace, as it was generally 
 named, was brought into the Grafton family by 
 Isabella, who became Countess of Arlington in her 
 own right on her father's death. One side of the 
 building contained various apartments, kitchen, ofHces, 
 servants' lodgings, everything complete of which to 
 make a house, and the Earl said it was his intention 
 to retire here and wholly resign the palace itself to 
 his son-in-law and daughter, " that charming young 
 creature." 
 
 The young Duke, however, had evidently a house 
 in town, as his first child, a boy, was born there in 
 November, 1683. Evelyn is almost the only chronicler 
 who has mentioned the Duchess, and he does so always 
 with admiration and affection. " I went to compli- 
 
 T
 
 290 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 ment the Duchess o£ Grafton, now lying-in of her 
 first child, a son, which she called for that I might 
 see it. She was become more beautiful, if it were 
 possible, than before, and full of virtue and sweet- 
 ness. She discoursed with me of many particulars, 
 with great prudence and gravity beyond her years." 
 
 The Duke of Grafton was loyal to his uncle until 
 the last week or so of his reign, when with Churchill 
 he went over to the side of William. In the 
 Monmouth rebellion he showed great gallantry, and 
 nearly lost his life at Philip Norton, near Bath, about 
 which the rebels lay hidden. He led a body of five 
 hundred men against them, and his way lay through 
 a deep lane with fences on both sides. When the 
 company had got thoroughly into the lane a galling 
 fire of musketry broke out from the hedges, but the 
 Duke pushed on until he reached the entrance to 
 Philip Norton. There the road was crossed by a 
 barricade and a third deadly fire met them. His 
 men's courage failed and they retreated, losing a 
 hundred men, and there was nothing for Grafton to 
 do but to gallop after them. At one point rebel horse- 
 men surrounded him, but he cut his way through 
 and came off safely. 
 
 In the year following he made himself notorious by 
 fighting two fatal duels, though little information 
 remains about them excepting that he killed Mr. 
 Stanley, brother to the Earl of Derby, upon " an 
 almost insufferable provocation." 
 
 There are on record many brave deeds done by 
 this man, who inherited a king-like spirit if he could 
 not claim the name of a king, and in 1690, when only 
 twenty-seven, he went over to Ireland and led four
 
 ISABELLA BENNET 291 
 
 regiments, wading up to the armpits in water to effect 
 a landing under the walls of Cork and storm the town 
 through a breach. They had almost succeeded when 
 a shot broke two of his ribs and mortally wounded 
 him. His body was brought back to England and 
 buried at Euston, he being widely lamented for his 
 reckless courage, his daring, and his honest if rough 
 temperament. He left but one son, who was in no 
 sense his father's equal, though he was not so stupid 
 as he was painted. Of him Lord John Hervey wrote : 
 
 " So your friend booby Grafton I'll e'en let you keep ; 
 Awake he can't hurt ; and he's still half asleep." 
 
 He gained renown by making love to Princess Amelia, 
 between whom and himself there was a romantic 
 attachment, though he was old enough to have been 
 her father. 
 
 After the Duke of Grafton's death his varioue 
 " places " were eagerly sought, and a post as Pro- 
 thonotary, or Chief Clerk in the Law, which had been 
 conferred upon him and his son by Charles H — who 
 lightly filled important posts with boys and unable 
 favourites — was desired by the legal fraternity, the 
 Lord Chief Justice challenging the right of the young 
 Duke to retain it ; upon which the spirited Isabella 
 appealed to the House of Lords. How it ended 
 cannot be told, except that " the judges were severely 
 reproved for something they said." 
 
 At her husband's death Isabella was in the ripeness 
 of her beauty — only twenty-three years old, and 
 possessed of one of the first positions in the land. 
 It is not to be wondered at that she married again, 
 though she remained a widow eight years ; then she
 
 292 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 chose for her husband a man who was young, hand- 
 some and clever, and " possessed of very considerable 
 paternal estates." This was Sir Thomas Hanmer, 
 who became one of the most considered men in the 
 House of Commons, and who travelled much with the 
 Duke of Ormond. He was associated with Swift in 
 the production of political pamphlets and kept up a 
 friendship with the Dean to the end of their lives. 
 He was a Tory until 171 3, when he became Whig, 
 was elected Speaker without opposition in succession 
 to Bromley in 17 14, and there was a rumour that he 
 would become Secretary of State. 
 
 Isabella must have been very conservative, for we 
 have a picture of her in 171 1 which shows that she 
 still affected the curious dress of her prime. Thus 
 Mary II brought into fashion a kind of lace head- 
 dress, rising one tier above another on the top of 
 the head, an adornment, or rather defacement, which 
 was soon discredited. Yet years later Swift described 
 dining with the Duchess of Grafton — she kept her 
 titles all through — and her husband, and wrote of 
 her : " She wears a great high head-dress such as was in 
 fashion fifteen years ago, and looks like a mad woman 
 in it ; yet she has great remains of beauty." She died 
 in 1723, when nearly fifty-six years of age.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 DIANA DE VERE, DUCHESS OF ST. ALBANS 
 
 " Once I beheld the fairest of her kind 
 (And still the sweet idea charms my mind) ; 
 True she was dumb ; for Nature gazed so long, 
 Pleased with her work, that she forgot her tongue, 
 But smiling said, She still shall gain the prize ; 
 I only have transferred it to her eyes. 
 Such are thy pictures, Kneller, such thy skill, 
 That Nature seems obedient to thy will ; 
 Comes out and meets thy pencil in the draught, 
 Lives there, and wants but words to speak her thought." 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 If Charles II launched upon society six Dukes of 
 irregular birth, it was not because there were not 
 men at his Court whose family history was of the 
 highest order ; and there is something satiric in the 
 fact that the wanton King should bring about a 
 marriage between the daughter of a family possessing 
 the longest and most heroic lineage in his realm, " the 
 Fighting Veres," and the son of the orange-girl Nell. 
 If this really was his doing he was only actuated by 
 the ordinary parental desire to do the best he could 
 for his offspring. It is not unlikely that he also did 
 a good thing for the race in mating a sturdy son of 
 a robust and low-born mother with the last repre- 
 sentative of an old family. Yet it is altogether doubt- 
 ful whether Charles had anything to do with the 
 matter, as the poor man was dead and buried nine 
 
 293
 
 294 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 years before Charles Beauclerc and Diana de Vera 
 were married. 
 
 Mrs. Jameson was very sentimental over Nell Gwyn 
 and remarks that her son was made Baron of Hed- 
 dington and Earl of Burford in 1676, and that " about 
 this time the heiress of the Veres was betrothed by 
 the King to the young Earl. Nell Gwyn lived to see 
 the future wife of her son in the infancy of those 
 charms which made her one of the most conspicuous 
 of the Kneller Beauties." 
 
 Now as Charles Beauclerc was born in 1670, and was 
 that same year made Baron Heddington and Earl of 
 Burford, there seems to be some discrepancy in this 
 writer's facts, and there probably is some in her senti- 
 mental effusion concerning Nell Gwyn. In 1676 
 Diana must have been a veritable baby, even if she 
 was in existence, and the marriage, which was most 
 probably brought about by spontaneous attraction, 
 did not take place until 1694. We can hardly imagine 
 a betrothal which lasted eighteen years, and certainly 
 had there been a contract of marriage the ceremony 
 would have taken place years earlier. 
 
 It is quite evident that Diana was a prize in the 
 matrimonial market, and not only for her wealth ; 
 for here and there one comes across a hint of jealousy 
 and envy on the part of other young men — " the 
 lucky husband of the lovely Diana " — remarks which 
 would scarcely have been made had she been con- 
 tracted for many years. By 1694 the Duke of St. 
 Albans, a title he received in 1684, had proved his 
 valour, his steadiness, and his good sense, and was 
 much more the equal not only of his bride, but of his 
 bride's father, than he could have been in 1676.
 
 Diana ije Verp:, Duchess oe St. Albans 
 
 [to I'ACE PA<iE 294
 
 DIANA DE VERE 295 
 
 Then there might have been some resistance on the 
 score of low birth, and one wonders how the old 
 Earl, whose pedigree was longer than that of many- 
 kings, including Charles, would have accepted Nell 
 Gwyn as a connection, even though he had obliged 
 the King in standing sponsor to Barbara's first son. 
 
 Aubrey de Vere, Earl of Oxford, merits a word or 
 two. In his own day he was said to be the noblest 
 subject in Europe, and his forerunners had taken 
 their part at Hastings, in the Crusades, at Runnymede, 
 at Crecy, and Poictiers. One Earl had been the 
 leader of the party of the Red Rose, another had shone 
 at the Court of Elizabeth, and Aubrey's father had 
 fallen under the walls of Maestricht in defence of 
 Protestantism, while he himself had later to suffer for 
 his religion by losing his offices at Court. At the 
 Restoration he was given a seat in the Privy Council, 
 was made a Knight of the Garter and Lord-Lieutenant 
 of Essex. He was Colonel of a regiment known as the 
 Oxford Blues, generally after his death spoken of as 
 " the Blues." With all this he was a man of in- 
 offensive temper, courtly manners, and of loose morals 
 — his mistress being Mrs. Davenport, better known as 
 Roxalana, whom he secured by a mock marriage. 
 
 Pepys tells us of a ridiculous falling out at the 
 house of the Earl of Oxford one day in 1663, the 
 friends with him on that occasion including Belasyse 
 and Tom Porter. " There were high words and some 
 blows, and pulling off of periwigs, till my Lord Monk 
 took away some of their swords and sent for soldiers 
 to guard the house until the fray ended." The French 
 ambassador, in writing an account of the affair to 
 France, says that after the fight had been brought
 
 296 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 to an end the inimical friends stayed so long that 
 they needed to eat again, and then as they again 
 required strong drink, General Monk presented to 
 each man a hanap, a very large bowl of wine, which 
 they must drink, or go away. A few went, but most 
 of them stayed there until the next day without 
 speaking to each other. The ambassador names it " a 
 very pleasant affair." 
 
 But this little pleasantry happened years before 
 either Diana or Beauclerc was born, neither of whom 
 attracted much public attention in youth. The boy 
 was fourteen years old when he received his dukedom ; 
 and on Easter Day of that year, the Bishop of Roches- 
 ter preaching before the King, he was present with 
 his father. Evelyn tells us that after the sermon His 
 Majesty, with three of his natural sons, the Duke of 
 Northumberland, son of Lady Cleveland, the Duke 
 of Richmond, son of Lady Portsmouth, and the Duke 
 of St. Albans, son of Nell Gwyn, went up to the altar ; 
 the three boys entering before the King within the rails 
 at the right hand, and the three Bishops on the left, 
 they being the Bishops of London — who officiated — 
 of Durham, and of Rochester. Evelyn adds in a later 
 mention of the boys : " What the Dukes of Richmond 
 and St. Albans will prove their youth does not yet 
 discover ; they are very pretty boys." 
 
 King Charles was always willing to bestow honours 
 upon his boys as well as posts for which they were 
 quite unfitted. Thus the Duke of Richmond became 
 Grand Equerry when only a baby, and St. Albans was 
 a young boy when he was made Master Falconer, 
 a post which had doubtless already become a mere 
 sinecure.
 
 DIANA DE VERE 297 
 
 The only reference we have concerning Diana in 
 her girlhood is that, at Mary's coronation in 1689, 
 during which so many mistakes were made and over 
 which hung so much gloom, she was one of the train- 
 bearers to the Queen, one of the other ladies being 
 the Duchess of Somerset, the wife of the " Proud " 
 Duke. Diana was maid of honour to Mary until she 
 was married in 1694. From that time she must have 
 been much occupied in following the career of her 
 husband and in attending to the fine family of eight 
 sons with which she presented him. After his 
 marriage the Duke was allowed a pension of ^£2000 a 
 year from the Crown, and he also held the office of 
 Registrar of the High Court of Chancery, which was 
 worth ;^I500 a year, so he had a good income at 
 the value of money at that time, and furthermore he 
 was much in favour with William. He received the 
 Colonelcy of a regiment of horse, distinguished him- 
 self at the siege of Belgrade, and became a Captain of 
 the Pensioners. Once, to show his favour, the King 
 bestowed upon him a " sett of coach horses finely 
 spotted like leopards," rather an embarrassing gift, 
 one would have thought. He was sent on important 
 embassies, and once, the year after his marriage, had 
 the good fortune to accomplish what forty people 
 had vainly tried to do, including his stepbrother the 
 Duke of Northumberland ; that is to escape from 
 three highwaymen who had plundered all those people 
 on Hounslow Heath in one night ! If this is true the 
 plundered ones must have actually offered their valu- 
 ables to the robbers, who " attempted " the Duke 
 of St. Albans unsuccessfully. 
 
 When the Tories came in, St. Albans the Whig had
 
 298 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 to rusticate and lose most of his good appointments, 
 but George I reinstated him and made him a Knight 
 of the Garter. He died in 1726, and his widow sur- 
 vived him sixteen years. The pity is that the ascer- 
 tainable facts about her are so few.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 MARGARET CECIL, COUNTESS OF RANELAGH 
 
 '* I who was late so volatile and gay, 
 Like a trade wind must now blow all one way, 
 Bend all my cares, my studies, and my vows, 
 To one dull rusty weathercock. — my spouse ! " 
 
 Sheridan. 
 
 It would not be easy to forget the light-hearted Mr. 
 Richard Jones, the friend, the confidant, and the 
 rival of the Chevalier de Gramont, who was once in 
 love with " the most beautiful, lazy, languishing, 
 affected, and irresistible " woman in London, Mrs. 
 Jane Middleton. He had been very much in love 
 and had disposed of many handsome presents when 
 the Frenchman appeared, anxiously seeking some 
 goddess whom he could adore. As Richard Jones 
 was wearying of the fair Jane and was also exceedingly 
 weary of parting with so much good money, he wel- 
 comed Gramont effusively, helped him in his love- 
 making, and when there was danger of his being 
 outrivalled warned him to beware. 
 
 This astute gentleman was an Irishman, " a man 
 of great parts and as great vices ; he had a pleasantness 
 in his conversation which took much with the King ; 
 and had a great dexterity in business." So says Burnet, 
 who spoke with personal knowledge. His dexterity 
 was sometimes exercised in a way which, had he been 
 
 299
 
 300 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 a poor and obscure man, would have earned him not 
 only the name, but the fate of a thief. He persuaded 
 the King practically to farm out Ireland to him, and 
 in return he diverted a considerable amount of money 
 into Charles's pocket and allowed the Duchess of 
 Portsmouth to dip her hands pretty deeply into his 
 Treasury. When it came to getting his accounts duly 
 passed neither he nor Charles was quite so happy, and 
 the latter used his influence to persuade Lord Essex 
 to pass the accounts without examining them. To 
 which that upright man replied that he would declare 
 the Earl of Ranelagh to be excused from presenting 
 his accounts, but that he could not do more. 
 
 Richard had become Viscount Ranelagh on his 
 father's death, and Charles made him an Earl in 1674, 
 also appointing him Gentleman of the Bedchamber 
 three years later. His honours settled him yet more 
 firmly in his Vice-Treasurership of Ireland, and by 
 1 68 1 his books were in such disorder that a sum of 
 jf 76,000 was missing, which was demanded of him — a 
 demand remitted by the King's favour. He was 
 Privy Councillor and Paymaster-General of the Forces 
 under James, as well as under William, and in 1702 
 he was publicly accused of owing millions to the 
 State. As he preferred to resign his post rather than 
 face an inquiry, he was regarded as guilty, was ex- 
 pelled from Parliament, and an address demanding 
 his prosecution was presented to Queen Anne. His 
 friends, however, were jubilant and commiserated him 
 as being unjustly accused when they found that his 
 defalcations amounted only to the trifling sum of 
 jf72,ooo ! The extraordinary thing is that a man 
 who from the first was proved to be dishonest should
 
 Margaret Cecil, Countess or Ranelagh 
 {_After Kneller') 
 
 [to kack pac;e 3t>0
 
 MARGARET CECIL 301 
 
 all through a long life have been thrust into positions 
 of trust where it was only too easy to peculate. 
 
 After his disgrace his influence at Court allowed 
 him once again to go scot free of any penalty, and 
 further it got him the appointment of Governor of 
 Queen Anne's Bounty for the Augmentation of the 
 Maintenance of Poor Clergymen ! It is to be hoped 
 that the poor clergymen were allowed to take some 
 share of the money which thus passed through the 
 hands of the notorious Earl. 
 
 This is the man whom Margaret Cecil, daughter of 
 James, the third Earl of Salisbury, who for " loyalty, 
 generosity, and affability was most likely to advance 
 the noble name of Cecil to the utmost period of 
 glory," elected to marry, choosing him from many 
 suitors. She had been married as a child to John 
 Lord Stowell or Stawell, and at the age of nineteen 
 was so fascinated by the humour and gay disposition 
 of the irresponsible Irishman, who was, just sixty years 
 old and the father of four grown-up daughters, and 
 further was " frisky and juvenile, curly and gay," 
 that she thought it a happiness to become his second 
 wife. 
 
 Henry Fielding in describing Sophia Western can 
 think of no more beautiful person to whom to liken 
 her than Lady Ranelagh. " Reader, perhaps thou 
 hast seen the statue of the Venus de Medici. Perhaps 
 too thou hast seen the gallery of beauties at Hampton 
 Court. . . . Or if their reign was before thy time, at 
 least thou hast seen their daughters, the no less dazzling 
 beauties of the present age. ... If thou hast seen all 
 these without knowing what beauty is, thou hast no 
 eyes ; if without feeling its power, thou hast no heart.
 
 302 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 Yet is it possible, my friend, that thou mayst have seen 
 all these without being able to form an exact idea. of 
 Sophia ; for she did not exactly resemble any of them. 
 She was most like the picture of Lady Ranelagh." 
 
 Lady Ranelagh's life can only be most meagrely 
 described by indicating that of her husband. She 
 was one of Queen Anne's ladies, and was probably, 
 earlier, Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Mary. 
 One wonders if she sympathized with Mary in her 
 extraordinary horticultural craze for clipped yews, 
 Dutch gardens, and the artificial training of beautiful 
 plants, with which she transformed the grounds of 
 Hampton Court. If Ranelagh had a virtue out of the 
 ordinary, it lay in his love for and attention to flori- 
 culture. This was so strong that Charles appointed 
 him Superintendent of the Royal edifices and pleasure 
 grounds, sending him to try his prentice hand on 
 Hampton Court. It may be hoped that his taste 
 was better than that of Queen Mary, who followed 
 him in arranging those gardens and probably altered 
 all that he did. It is said that Ranelagh ruined him- 
 self by building his house and laying out his gardens 
 just east of Chelsea College ; if so he and his wife 
 found in it a solace and a joy after his disgrace. Here 
 they spent their days, and in spite of all his faults 
 Ranelagh could always be happy in a garden. After 
 his death Ranelagh House was for a time one of the 
 most fashionable and fascinating of resorts for those 
 who had money to spend. 
 
 There is a story that the Earl disinherited his only 
 daughter because she married Lord Coningsby, a 
 brave, eccentric, blundering man, and left all his 
 property to Greenwich Hospital; but this could
 
 MARGARET CECIL 303 
 
 scarcely be true, as he had four daughters, and there 
 is an account of the place having been bequeathed 
 in the next century to the surviving wife of a later 
 Viscount Ranelagh. The Earl also possessed a house 
 at Cranburn, one of the " finest places for nature 
 and plantations that ever I saw," remarked Swift, who 
 visited it. 
 
 The Dean commented upon Ranelagh's death, 
 which occurred in January, 1711-12: " He was very 
 poor and needy, and could hardly support himself 
 for want of a pension which used to be paid him, 
 and which his friends solicited as a thing of perfect 
 charity. He died hard, as the term of art here is to 
 express the woeful state of men who discover no 
 religion at their death." 
 
 Poor Margaret Cecil, she was nineteen when she 
 married in 1696, which would make her thirty-five 
 at her husband's death. He was then seventy-six, 
 disgraced, shunned, and in poverty ! Surely her life 
 could have had little gaiety in it, and it is allowable 
 to hope that during the sixteen years that remained 
 to her she was at least relieved from necessity and 
 enabled to find life amusing.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 MARY COMPTON, COUNTESS OF DORSET 
 
 " The gen'rous god, who wit and gold refines, 
 And ripens spirits as he ripens mines, 
 Kept dross for duchesses, the world shall know it, 
 To you gave sense, good-humour, and a poet." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 After the death o£ his wife — once Countess Falmouth 
 — within a year of their marriage, Lord Dorset re- 
 mained a widower for about six years, until 1685. 
 Then he married Mary, daughter of James Compton, 
 the third Earl of Northampton, and niece to that 
 Spencer Compton who had been so much in love 
 with Anne Hyde, and who might have given her so 
 much happier a life than did James, Duke of York. 
 She was also niece to Bishop Compton, one of the 
 stoutest resisters to the new invasion of Papacy, and 
 one of the seven who signed the invitation to William 
 to accept the Crown of England. 
 
 Mary Compton was now in her youth the wife of 
 one of the social paradoxes of the time. Dorset had 
 been one of the wildest young men of Charles's reign ; 
 he with Sedley had been twice publicly charged with 
 faults which disgraced themselves as much as 
 they insulted the witnesses. On one occasion in 
 the garb of Adam before the fall they had from the 
 
 304
 
 Mary Comi-ton, Countess of Dorset 
 {^Aftcr A'lie/Ier') 
 
 [to face I'ACE 304
 
 MARY COMPTON 305 
 
 balcony of an inn harangued the crowd in blasphemous 
 language ; on another they were charged with assault- 
 ing the watch and rushing about the streets without 
 their clothes on. Dorset too had been one of the 
 party, including Henry Belasyse, who killed the tanner 
 and rifled his pockets. Yet in his maturer age he was 
 known as a man of letters, of kindly heart and sincere 
 manners. He patronized men of literary worth and 
 was a friend of Dryden. On one occasion, when at 
 his house at Knole Park, in Kent, with a party of 
 friends, it was agreed that each man should write an 
 impromptu, of which Dryden should name the best. 
 Dorset wrote a line or two and threw the paper over 
 to Dryden. It ran, " I promise to pay Mr. Dryden 
 j^5oo on demand." Such an impromptu could be 
 given no second place by a needy poet. Dorset was 
 also the author of the well-known poem : "To all you 
 ladies now on land." 
 
 When he married Mary Compton he was in early 
 middle age and had finished sowing his wild oats ; 
 thus his true character had a chance of appearing, 
 and it expressed itself in a love for his wife and home, 
 his fidelity to his Countess causing Sir George Etherege 
 to write of him with great contempt. They lived 
 chiefly at Copt Hall, at Waltham, where we hear twice 
 of the Countess, and she seems certainly to have 
 been both an accomplished housewife and a woman 
 of resource. 
 
 On one occasion King James, who, during his 
 brother's reign, had hunted three times a week, started 
 out for a day's hunting, an amusement which was not 
 impossible round London in those days. The quarry 
 led him to Hatfield, where it was killed, and James, 
 u
 
 3o6 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 finding that his horse was worn out, determined to go 
 to Copt Hall, which was fairly near, for a rest. It 
 happened that Dorset had gone out to dine ; Lady 
 Dorset drove out to see some friends, and gave her 
 butler and cook liberty to attend Waltham Fair, so 
 much renowned. Indeed, most of the servants had 
 also gone there, for the house seems to have been 
 practically locked up. When the King's messenger 
 arrived and told the groom he saw who was coming, 
 the only thing the man could think of doing was to 
 ride after his mistress and bring her back. He was 
 fortunate in catching her, and gave the King's 
 message as he had received it. The poor lady hesitated 
 for a minute, tempted to get out of an embarrassing 
 and difficult situation by continuing her journey and 
 pretending not to have heard that the King was there. 
 But a second messenger followed the first, hot with 
 dismay and fearing that his mistress would not be 
 found. 
 
 Lady Dorset drove home quickly at this and, arrived 
 there, sent her coach to meet the King that he might 
 travel with greater ease. Then she and her maid went 
 down to the kitchen and pantries, and where they 
 found doors locked and the keys safely hidden away 
 by the careful cook or butler, they called a man to 
 break them open. Thus when the King arrived he 
 found a table laid with Royal magnificence and a 
 most excellent dinner awaiting him. This rather 
 smacks of the fairy story, but it is told in all solemnity 
 in the life of a great statesman. When the King at 
 last went his way again, rested, fed, and content, he 
 met Lord Dorset on the road, who could not enough 
 express his regret at not being at home.
 
 MARY COMPTON 307 
 
 " Make no excuse, my lord," replied the King ; 
 " it was exceedingly well done and very handsome." 
 
 Dorset was a Whig, and fully sympathized with the 
 desire to offer the Crown to WilHam and Mary. Thus 
 the next incident belongs to a time o£ trouble and 
 unrest. Churchill, Grafton, and George of Denmark 
 — " est-il-possible," as James nicknamed him, from 
 his constant iteration of the phrase — had sneaked over 
 from the side of James to that of William. Anne, full 
 of duplicity and ambition, feared how much her father 
 knew about her own doings in the matter and deter- 
 mined to flee from Whitehall before the King re- 
 turned to it. So one night Sarah Churchill and Lady 
 Fitzharding, one of the notorious Villiers sisters, 
 stole up the back stairs and waited until the clock 
 struck one. Then, when she was sure that all was 
 quiet, Anne slipped down with them, and they went 
 through the Park in torrents of rain to a coach which 
 Bishop Compton had in readiness for her. Dorset was 
 waiting at the door from which they emerged, and 
 helped the Princess the short distance through the 
 mud of the Park to the conveyance. On the way one 
 of her high-heeled shoes got stuck fast and was lost 
 in the darkness, which gave her great amusement, and 
 she tried to hop on one foot until Dorset, taking off 
 one of his long gloves, begged her to put it on as a 
 shoe, thus causing peals of laughter. The Bishop 
 took them all to his house in Aldersgate Street, so 
 that Anne could sleep there the remainder of the 
 night ; and in the morning they set out for Copt 
 Hall. 
 
 Here the Princess was welcomed by Lady Dorset 
 with all the hospitality and state for which her home
 
 3o8 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 was famed, whether it was King, Princess, or poet 
 who asked for her kindness ; but because of its prox- 
 imity to. London the party could not stay there long. 
 So they rode to Nottingham, the Bishop exchanging 
 his gaiters for a bufffcoat and jack-boots, and his 
 hymnal for a sword and pistols. 
 
 When Mary was safely settled on the throne she 
 madeLadyDorset one of herLadies of theBedchamber, 
 and the Countess's little son became a favourite with 
 the brusque and taciturn WilHam. Horace Walpole 
 tells a story that when the King was in his private 
 closet at Kensington there came a tap at the door. 
 
 " Who is there ? " asked the King. 
 
 " Lord Buck," was the answer. Buckhurst being 
 one of Dorset's titles. 
 
 " And what does Lord Buck want ? " asked the 
 King, going out to the four-year-old child. 
 
 " You to be horse to my coach ; I've wanted you a 
 long time." 
 
 King William succumbed to the autocratic young 
 gentleman and dragged the toy cart up and down 
 the gallery until the child was satisfied. 
 
 Lord Dorset was not to be happy with Mary long, 
 for she died in August, 1691, when her boy was but a 
 little over three years old, and there is no record of 
 the illness from which she suffered. Queen Mary 
 was deeply grieved at her loss, for she knew what a 
 loyal, clever friend the Countess was. The Countess 
 of Nottingham took her place at Court. Lady Dorset 
 was renowned not for her immorality or her flippant 
 wit, but for her beauty and her understanding ; and 
 though understanding is one of the most valuable 
 assets in life, it is not a showy one, and in Lady Dorset's
 
 MARY COMPTON 309 
 
 case it has not given that temptation to the gossips 
 and letter-writers of the period to record her doings 
 as a more flamboyant quality would have done. 
 
 Her son Lionel Cranfield Sackville was the first 
 Duke of Dorset.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MARY BENTINCK, COUNTESS OF ESSEX 
 
 " If you mark, when for her pleasure, 
 She vouchsafes to foot a measure, 
 Though with others' skill she pace, 
 There's a sweet delightful grace 
 In herself which doth prefer 
 Art beyond that art in her." 
 
 George ffither. 
 
 Of Mary Bentinck there is nothing to record excepting 
 her parentage, her marriage, and her death. She was 
 the eldest daughter of William Bentinck, the first 
 Earl of Portland, who was, especially in his early life, 
 so devoted to his master William of Orange. Of him 
 it is told that when William was taken ill with small- 
 pox, he never left his side until the disease had been 
 conquered ; then, feeling very ill himself, he begged 
 that he might have a holiday, and went away to suffer 
 the same terrible illness without letting the knowledge 
 of it weigh upon the Prince in his convalescence. He 
 it was who received the confidences and witnessed the 
 emotions of the taciturn husband of Mary H. " Does 
 the King never talk ? " asked a nobleman of one of 
 the youths who served His Majesty at table. 
 
 " Only in the evening, when he is with my Lord 
 Portland and other Dutch friends, drinking Sniedam 
 and smoking," was the reply. 
 
 The first child was born to William Bentinck and 
 
 310
 
 Mary Bentinck, CouNTf;ss ov Essex 
 (^After Kneller) 
 
 [to face page 310
 
 MARY BENTINCK 311 
 
 his wife in 1679, ^^ that Mary was nearly ten years old 
 before she came to England. The man she married 
 was Algernon, the second Earl of Essex, son of that 
 good man about whose mysterious and violent death 
 in the Tower there were so many conflicting accounts. 
 His birth took place in 1670, and almost from his 
 childhood he was an upholder of the pretensions of 
 William of Orange to the English throne. He served 
 with him in Flanders, was a Lieutenant-General of 
 the army and Colonel of the 4th Regiment of Dra- 
 goons. He came to England with William and his 
 inseparable adviser Bentinck, whose daughter he 
 married in 1692. The peerage books give this date 
 and also 1698, but Mary's first child, a son, was born 
 in 1697, and therefore it is reasonable to believe in 
 the earlier date. 
 
 Mary was fond of dancing, and at a ball given at 
 St. James's she is picked out by a contemporary as 
 one of the best dancers present, while her husband is 
 mentioned as one of the three best among the men ; 
 a small item of news, which yet lets in a little light upon 
 her character. 
 
 It is hardly possible to believe that this portrait was 
 painted when the Countess was an immature girl of 
 sixteen, and it is probable that William ordered the 
 number of portraits to be completed after his wife's 
 death, for Kneller worked in England into the reign 
 of George I. It was from her husband's sister, who as 
 Lady Carlisle lived to a great age, that we have the 
 story of Queen Mary's obstinacy in forming this gallery 
 of beauties. 
 
 During the reign of Anne Lord Essex was made 
 Constable of the Tower of London, a post which he
 
 312 FAIR LADIES OF HAMPTON COURT 
 
 held until his death in 1710. Four years later his wife 
 married a second time, her husband being Sir Conyers 
 D'Arcy. By her first marriage she had one son and 
 two daughters, but there is no record of children by 
 the second. She died in 1726. 
 
 This account of a group of women long since dead 
 has drawn to its close, and one reflection must come 
 to all who have read the foregoing pages. It is that 
 the lives of the greatest sinners give far more scope 
 to the biographer, and are studied with far more 
 interest by the reader than the lives of the virtuous. 
 It is, however, idle to apologize for the deficiencies of 
 history, which, however scientific it should be in its 
 aim, always describes dramatic events rather than 
 domestic virtues.
 
 Index 
 
 A 
 
 Albemarle, Duchess of, 201 
 Anglesey, Earl of (Charles Vil- 
 
 liers), 46 
 Anglesey, Lady, iig 
 Anne, Queen, 20, 102, 213, 220, 
 
 224, 275^, 300, 307 
 Arlington, Earl of (Henry Bennet), 
 
 58, 59, 61, 71, 75, 128, 233, 
 
 235, 240, 284, 286, 289 
 Arlington, Lady, 235, 237, 284, 
 
 286 
 Armine, Sir William, 172 
 Arran, Earl of, 29, 32 
 Arundel, Lord, 258 
 Aubrey, Lives, 157, 161, 162 
 
 B 
 
 Bagot, Colonel Harvey, 122 
 Bagot, Mary. See Falmouth 
 Barillon, French ambassador, 
 
 211, 220, 221, 253, 258, 261, 
 
 262, 264 
 Bath, Earl of, 265 
 Beauclerc,Charles. S^^St. Albans, 
 
 Duke of 
 Beauclerc, Mrs., 252 
 Beaufort, Duke of, 231 
 Belasysc, Sir Henry, 173, 175 et 
 
 ^^1"> 295> 304 
 Belasyse, Sir Henry (the younger), 
 
 182 
 
 Belasyse, Lady (Anne Poulet), 
 
 I72» 173 
 Belasyse, John, Baron, 172, 176, 
 
 180, 258 
 
 Belasyse, Lady (Susan Armine), 
 16, 22, 172 et seq., 188, 221 
 
 Bennet, Henry. See Arlington, 
 Earl of 
 
 Bennet, Isabella. See Grafton, 
 Duchess of 
 
 Berkeley, Sir Charles. See Fal- 
 mouth, Earl of 
 
 Berkeley, Lord, of Stratton, 182 
 
 Berry, Sir John, 289 
 
 Berry, Miss, 119 
 
 Blague, Miss, maid of honour, 
 135 et seq., 275 
 
 Blandford, Bishop of Worcester, 
 
 43 
 Bohemia, Queen of, 28 
 
 Bonrepos, French emissary, 220 
 
 Bourbon, Duchess of, 259 
 
 Bowcher, Mr., 119 
 
 Boyle, Richard, 126 
 
 Bret, Dick, 196 
 
 Brisacier, Marquis de, 137, 139, 
 141 
 
 Brissac, Duchesse de, 190 
 
 Bristol, Earl of (George Digby), 
 151, 153, 160, 210, 211, 212 
 
 Bristol, Lady, 216 
 
 Brooke, Lady Elizabeth, 153 
 
 Brooke, Frances. See Lady Whit- 
 more 
 
 Brooke, Margaret. See Lady 
 Denham 
 
 Brooke, William, 152 
 
 Brouncker, Mr., 159 
 
 Brown, Sir Richard, 255 
 
 Buckhurst, Lord. 5^^ Dorset, Earl 
 of 
 
 313
 
 314 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Buckhurst, Lionel, Lord, 308 
 Buckingham, Duchess of (Mary 
 
 Fairfax), 47, 102 
 Buckingham, Duke of (George 
 
 VilHers), 25, 38, 47, 61, 70, 
 
 71, 72, 75, 85, 96, 103, 141, 
 
 176, 179,187, 191, 232, 242, 
 
 286 
 Buckingham, Sheffield, Duke of, 
 
 229 
 Bulkeley, Lady (Sophia Stuart), 
 
 119 
 Burnet, Bishop, 17, 35, 40, 86, 
 
 89, 123, 179, 180, 208, 217, 
 
 232, 236, 262, 266, 299 
 Burford, Earl of. See St. Albans, 
 
 Duke of 
 Byron, Lady, 22, 49 
 
 Cabal, the, 61 
 
 Carlisle, Lady, 311 
 
 Carnegy, Lady. See Southesk, 
 Countess of 
 
 Carr, Sir Robert, 177 
 
 Castlemaine, Earl of (Roger 
 Palmer), 48, 50-1, 53, 57, 107 
 
 Castlemaine, Countess of (Barbara 
 Villiers), 16, 38, 40, 45 ^//^f., 
 76 eise^.,111, 118,128,193-4, 
 214, 229, 232, 234, 239, 241, 
 243, 246, 248, 250, 262, 285, 
 287, 288 
 
 Catherine of Braganza, 43, 52, 
 54, 58, 63, 68, 72, 79, 85, 
 93, 96, 102, 116, 128, 135, 
 189, 205, 241,244,254, 257, 
 261, 263, 266 
 
 Cecil, Margaret. See Ranelagh, 
 Countess of 
 
 Charles I, 45, 156 
 
 Charles II, 15 et se^., 28, 30, 
 
 33> 37. 38, 4i> 45' 49» 5°. 
 
 52, 54 ei seq., id et seq., 
 
 115-16,118, 123,126-7,129, 
 131, 139, 144,147,151, 154, 
 
 160, 180, 183, 185, 187-8, 
 194, 195, 203, 205, 208, 212, 
 220, 229 et seq., 274, 285-6, 
 288, 293, 296, 300 
 
 Chesterfield, Earl of, 37, 47, 82, 
 
 161, 163 
 
 Chesterfield, Lady, 37, 39, 50, 
 
 82, 145, 158 
 Chichester, Lord, 184 
 Chiffinch, William, page of the 
 
 back stairs, 91, 120 
 Churchill, Arabella, 39 
 Churchill, John (afterwards Duke 
 
 of Marlborough), 39, 103, 307 
 Churchill, Lady Mary, 279 
 Cibber, Colley, 19 
 Clarendon, Earl of (Edward 
 
 Hyde), 27 ^^ seq.^ 33, 42, 46 
 
 55, 61, 62, 89, 95, 97, 126, 
 
 i54» 274 
 Clarendon, second Earl of, 204 
 
 Clarendon, Earl of (Edward, Vis- 
 count Cornbury), 94, 282 
 Cleveland, Duchess of. 5^^ Castle- 
 maine, Countess of 
 Clifford, Thomas, Lord, 61, 247 
 Colbert, Monsieur, 235, 237 
 Comminges, Comte de, 212 
 Compton, Bishop, 304, 307 
 Compton, Mary, See Dorset, 
 
 Countess of 
 Compton, Sir Spencer, 29, 304 
 Congreve, William, 272 
 Coningsby, Lord, 302 
 Conway, Lord, 163 
 Cornbury, Viscount. See Claren- 
 don, Earl of 
 Courcelles, Sidonie de, 254 
 Courtin, Honore, Seigneur de 
 Chanteroine, 115 et seq.y 251, 
 252, 268 
 Coventry, Sir William, 123 
 Crofts. See Monmouth, Duke of
 
 INDEX 
 
 315 
 
 Croissy, Monsieur de, 188 
 Cromwell, Oliver, 30 
 Crowne, John, 275 
 Cumberland, Duke of, 20, 307 
 
 D 
 
 Dangeau, Marquis de, 149 
 D'Arcy, Sir Conyers, 312 
 Davenport, Mrs. (" Roxalana "), 
 
 295 
 Davies, Moll, actress, 99, 229 
 
 Deleau, Mrs., 108 
 
 Denham, Sir John, 38, 126, 155, 
 
 158, 160 
 Denham,Lady (Margaret Brooke), 
 
 16, 22, 37, 38, 145, 151 et 
 
 seq., 231, 273 
 Digby, Francis, 72 
 Digby, George. See Bristol, Earl of 
 Dorchester, Duchess of (Catherine 
 
 Sedley), 14, 268 
 Dorset, Countess of (Mary Comp- 
 
 ton), 274, 304 et seq. 
 Dorset, Earl of (Charles Sack- 
 
 ville), 98, 130, I'jb, 2,04 et seq. 
 Dryden, John, 129, 167, 168, 
 
 177, 196, 239, 293, 305 
 Dugdale, Sir William, 241 
 
 Essex, Countess of (Mary Ben- 
 
 tinck), 310 ^/ seq. 
 Essex, Earl of, 300, 311 
 Etherege, Sir George, 305 
 Evelyn, John, 95, 104, no, 115, 
 160, 190, 200, 210, 214-15, 
 218, 222, 224, 233, 235, 237, 
 254-6, 262, 268, 274, 286, 
 288-9, 296 
 Evelyn, Mary, 205 
 
 Fairfax, Mary. See Buckingham, 
 Duchess of 
 
 Falmouth, Countess of (Mary 
 Bagot), 22, 122 et seq., 304 
 
 Falmouth, Earl of (Charles 
 Berkeley), 29, 31, 34 et seq., 
 58-9, 69, 123 et seq., 171 
 
 Fayette, Mme. de la, 190-1 
 
 Feilding, Robert ("Beau"), 107 
 
 Fever sham. Earl of, 265 
 
 Fielding, Henry, 301 
 
 Fitzharding, Lady, 307 
 
 Fitzharding, Lord, 88 
 
 Fitzroy, Barbara. See Lichfield, 
 Countess of 
 
 Fitzroy, Charles. See Southamp- 
 ton, Duke of 
 
 Fontenelle, French censor of the 
 press, 150 
 
 Forneron, H., 129, 239, 251, 
 253».256 
 
 Fountaine, Sir Andrew, 170 
 
 Fox, Jane, 216 
 
 Fox, Stephen, 216 
 
 Eraser, Sir Alexander, 274 
 
 Eraser, Carey. See Peterborough, 
 Countess of 
 
 Eraser, Sir Peter, 274 
 
 Gascoigne, Sir Bernard, 102 
 
 George I, 268, 311 
 
 George, Prince. See Cumberland, 
 
 Duke of 
 Gerrard, Lady, 60 
 Godolphin, Earl of, 119, 261 
 Goodman, Cardonnell, 107 
 Grafton, Duchess of (Isabella 
 
 Bennet), 127, 284 ^/ seq. 
 Grafton, Duke of, 127, 188, 248, 
 
 265, 286 et seq., 307 
 Grafton, Duke of (grandson of 
 
 foregoing), 108-9 
 Gramont, Count, 23, 30, 33, 39, 
 
 40, 43.59»67, 7o-i» 78, 81-2, 
 85, 104, no et seq., 124, 
 131-2,162,164,234,273,299
 
 3i6 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Gramont, Countess of, i6, 38, 39, 
 III, 114, 125, 131 et seq.^ 
 
 273. 
 Grandison, Lady, 45-6 
 
 Grandison, Viscount (William 
 
 Villiers), 45 
 Granger's Biographical Dictionary^ 
 
 170, 179 
 Grey, Earl, 267 
 
 Gunning, Elizabeth and Maria, 13 
 Gwyn, Nell, 16, 19, 45, 62, 98, 
 
 105, 229, 242 et seq.y 250-1, 
 
 257, 266, 293-4 
 
 H 
 
 Halifax, Lady (Gertrude Pierre- 
 point), 173 
 
 Hall, Jacob, 105 
 
 Hallam, Henry, 45 
 
 Hamilton, Anne. See Southesk, 
 Lady 
 
 Hamilton, Anthony, 23, 80, S'^y 
 
 133. 149 
 Hamilton, Elizabeth. See Gra- 
 mont, Countess of 
 Hamilton, Sir George, 131, 146 
 Hamilton, Colonel James, 60, 72 
 Harmer, Sir Thomas, 292 
 Hart, Charles, 98-9, 103, 243 
 Harvey, Sir Daniel, 97 
 Harvey, Lady, 117, 251-2 
 Harvey, Mathew, 168 
 Henley, Mr., 266 
 Henrietta Maria, Queen, 28, 30, 
 
 34, 40, 45, 56, 63, 75 
 Hervey, Lord John, 291 
 Hobart, Miss, maid of honour, 
 
 Holt, Lord Chief Justice, 107 
 Hoppy, a tanner, 176 
 Hough, Dr. John, 206 
 Howard, Henry. See Norfolk, 
 
 Duke of 
 Huddleston, John, 265 
 
 Hyde, Anne. See York, Duchess 
 
 of 
 Hyde, Edward. See Clarendon, 
 
 Earl of 
 
 James II, 16, 19, 30 et seq.., 51, 
 77, 80, 82 et seq.y 90, 114, 
 123, 126-8, 131 et seq.y 
 
 i45» 155 ^' ^^?-» 179 ^^ ^^?-» 
 187-8, 191, 208, 218, 222, 
 235» 238, 240, 247, 253, 
 258-9, 262, 264, 267, 273, 
 289, 305 
 Jameson, Mrs. Anna, 49, 50, 
 170, 182, 187, 205, 210, 213, 
 294 
 Jennings, Frances, 38-9, 90 
 Jennings, Sarah. S^^ Marlborough, 
 
 Duchess of 
 Jermyn, Henry, 29, 32, 40, 64, 
 
 96, 103, 105, 128, 132 
 Jones, Lady Elizabeth, 118 
 Jones, Lady Katherine, 118 
 Jones, Richard. See Ranelagh, 
 Earl of 
 
 K 
 
 Kellaway, Anne, 23 
 
 Keroualle, Comte and Comtesse 
 de, 230, 255 
 
 Keroualle, Louise de. See Ports- 
 mouth, Duchess of 
 
 Keroualle, Sebastian, 231 
 
 Kildare, Lady, 206 
 
 Killigrew, Thomas, 29, 32, 39, 
 81, 88 
 
 Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 14, 22, 24 
 et seq.y 271, 311 
 
 Kunigsmarck, Count, 197 
 
 Lacy, John, 98, 243 
 Lauderdale, 61
 
 INDEX 
 
 317 
 
 Lely, Sir Peter, 14, 15, 22 etseq.^ 
 44, no, 114, 120, 122, 131, 
 145, 152, 203 
 Lichfield, Lady (Barbara Fitz- 
 
 roy), 103, 257 
 Lichfield, Lee, Earl of, 241 
 Lionne, Marquis de, 212 
 Louis XIV, 63, 82, III, 115, 
 129, 145, 187, 220-2, 229, 
 232, 238-41, 251-2, 258-9, 
 
 261, 268 
 
 Louvois, French minister, 116 
 Lyttelton, Sir Charles, 196 
 
 M 
 
 Macaulay, Lord, 61, 289 
 Maintenon, Mme. de, 148, 268 
 Mallet, Elizabeth, 203 
 Marlborough, Duchess of (Sarah 
 
 Jennings), 275, 283, 307 
 Marvell, Andrew, 151, 161, 164 
 Mary II, Queen, 14, 20, 23, 253, 
 
 258, 269, 274-5, 292, 297, 
 
 302, 307-8, 310 
 Mary Beatrice of Modena, 87, 
 
 102, 117, 188, 208, 215, 221, 
 
 269, 275 
 May, Baptist, 120 
 May, Charles, 120 
 Mayenne, Due de, 249 
 Mazarin, Cardinal, 35, 249 
 Mazarin, Hortense, Duchess, 
 
 1 1 6-1 7, 119, 248 eiseq., 260, 
 
 262, 277 
 
 Middleton, Charles, no, 112, 
 
 ii5» 119 
 
 Middleton, Lady (Frances Whit- 
 more), 167, 274, 281 et seq. 
 
 Middleton, Mrs. Jane, no et seq.^ 
 133-4, 144, 252, 254, 273, 
 281, 299 
 
 Middleton, Sir Richard, 283 
 
 Middleton, Sir Thomas, 1 10 
 
 Monk, Lord, 295 
 
 Monmouth, Duchess of (Anne 
 
 Scott), 59 
 Monmouth, Duke of, 57, 59, 83, 
 
 85, 121, 218, 262, 266, 275, 
 
 289 
 Montagu, John, 201 
 Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 
 
 23 
 Montagu, Ralph, 106, in, 114, 
 
 188 et seq., 233 
 Montespan, Mme. de, 230 
 Mordaunt, Lady Mary, 275 
 Morland, Sir Samuel, 50 
 Mulgrave, 129 
 Muskerry, Lady, 135 et seq. 
 Muskerry, Lord, 126, 138, 141 
 
 N 
 
 Nash, Beau, 149 
 Needham, Eleanor, 121 
 Needham, Sir Robert, no 
 Nicholson, Sir Edward, 61 
 Norfolk, Duke of (Henry 
 
 Howard), 132 
 North, Roger, 224 
 Northampton, Earl of (James 
 
 Compton), 304 
 Northumberland, Countess of 
 
 (Elizabeth Wriothesley), 183 
 
 et seq. 
 Northumberland, Dowager Coun- 
 tess of, 189, 1 9 1-2, 195 
 Northumberland, Duke of (Fitz- 
 
 roy), 108, 234, 266, 296-7 
 Northumberland, Earlof(Joscelyn 
 
 Percy), 184 et seq.., 234 
 
 O 
 
 Gates, Titus, 86, 225, 257 
 Ogle, Earl of (Henry Cavendish), 
 
 195, 198 
 Orange, Princess of, 28, 30, 33, 
 
 37. Zee Mary II
 
 3i8 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Orkney,Lady (Elizabeth Villiers), 
 
 269 
 Orleans, Due de, 231 
 Orleans, Henrietta, Duchess of, 
 
 62, i47» 189, 229, 231 et seg. 
 Ormond, Duke of, 61, 165, 292 
 Orrery, Lady, 22 
 Ossory, Countess of (Anne Hyde), 
 
 205 
 Ossory, Earl of, 35,165, 205, 207 
 Otway, Thomas, 284 
 Oxford, Earl of (Aubrey deVere), 
 
 54, 295 
 
 Palmer, Barbara. See Castle- 
 
 maine, Countess of 
 Palmer, Roger. See Castlemaine, 
 
 Earl of 
 Pembroke, Earl of, 247 
 Penancoet, Guillaume de. See 
 
 Keroualle, Comte 
 Pepys, Samuel, 23, 31, 42-4, 50, 
 
 56, 59, 66-8, 77, 80, 95, 99, 
 
 loi, 115, 120, 127-8, 159, 
 
 160, 164, 178, 211 
 Percy, Elizabeth (afterwards 
 
 Duchess of Somerset), 185, 
 
 188, 191, 194 et seg., 286, 297 
 Peterborough, Countess of (Carey 
 
 Eraser), 254, 273 et seq. 
 Peterborough, Earl of (Charles 
 
 Mordaunt), 274 et seq. 
 Pierrepoint, Gertrude. See Hali- 
 fax, Lady 
 Pitt, Miss (Mrs. Scrope), 21, 273 
 Pitt, Thomas ("Diamond"), 22 
 Pope, Alexander, 24, 122, 174, 
 
 273» 279, 304 
 Porter, Tom, 197, 295 
 Portland, Earl of (William Ben- 
 
 tinck), 310 
 Portsmouth, Duchess of (Louise 
 
 de Keroualle), 16, 25, 48, 62, 
 
 99, 116-17, 187, 193, 195, 
 229 et seq., 277, 285,300 
 
 Povey, Mr., 42 
 
 Powis, Lord, 258 
 
 Price, Miss, maid of honour, 39, 
 139, 141, 159 
 
 Prior, Matthew, 228 
 
 R 
 
 Ramsay, Allan, no 
 
 Ranelagh, Countess of (Margaret 
 
 Cecil), 299 et seq. 
 Ranelagh, Earl of (Richard 
 
 Jones), 113, 299 et seq. 
 Reresby, Sir John, 131-2,173-6, 
 
 179 
 Richardson the fire-eater, 215 
 Richmond, Duchess of (Frances 
 
 Stuart), 16, 40, 59, 62 et seq., 
 
 76 et seq.. Ill, 118, 203, 229, 
 
 .234 
 Richmond, Duchess of (Mary 
 
 Villiers), 52, 89 
 Richmond, Duke of (Charles 
 
 Lennox), 239, 248, 257, 
 
 266-8, 296 
 Richmond, Duke of (Charles 
 
 Stuart), 85, 89 et seq., 100, loi, 
 
 132, 143, 182, 241 
 Robinson, Anastasia, 280 
 Rochester, Countess of (Henrietta 
 
 Boyle), 162, 203 et seq. 
 Rochester, Earl of (Lawrence 
 
 Hyde), 119, 203 et seq., 261-2 
 Rochester, Earl of ( Wilmot), 1 96, 
 
 203 
 Roettier, Philip, the medallist, 84 
 Romney, Earl of (Henry Sidney), 
 
 39, 185, 211, 2\i et seq., 258 
 Ross, Lord, 201 
 Russell, Colonel, 144 
 Russell, Lady Dorothy, 277 
 Russell, Edward, 152-3 
 Russell, Lady (Rachel Wriothes-
 
 INDEX 
 
 319 
 
 ley), 120, i74-5> 1S3, 185, 
 188, 192, 194, 198,200 
 Russell, Lord William, 115, 132, 
 144, 152, 174, 186, 199 
 
 Sackville, Edward, 176 
 
 St. Albans, Duchess of (Diana 
 
 de Vera), 293 ^/ seq. 
 St. Albans, Duke of (Charles 
 
 Beauclerc), 244, 266, 294 et 
 
 seq. 
 St. Albans, Lord, 40, 46 
 St. Evremond, 112, iig, 120, 
 
 i43> 149 
 Salisbury, Earl of (James), 301 
 
 Sandwich, Earl of, 51, 74, 77 
 
 Sault, Comte de, 230 
 
 Savile, Harry, 186 
 
 Scrope, Sir Carr, 275 
 
 Seccombe, Mr. Thomas, 197 
 
 Sedley, Sir Charles, 304 
 
 Sevigne, Mme. de, 148, 190, 
 
 244, 250 
 Sheldon, Archbishop, 86, 286 
 Sheridan, Tom, 19, 299 
 Shrewsbury, Countess of, 111,179 
 Sidney, Sir Henry, ^ec Romney, 
 
 Earl of 
 Somerset, Duke of, 199 
 Southampton, Duke of (Charles 
 
 Fitzroy), 53, 194, 234, 248, 
 
 266 
 Southampton, Earl of (Thomas 
 
 Wriothesley), 61, 183, 184 
 Southesk, Countess of, 22, 23, 
 
 37> 47» 170 
 Spencer, Lord, 216 
 Stafford, Lord, 258, 259 
 Steinman, G. S., 46, 78, 274 
 Stowell, Earl of (John), 301 
 Strickland, Miss, 274 
 Stuart, Frances. Siee Richmond, 
 
 Duchess of 
 
 Suffolk, Countess of, 54 
 Suffolk, Earl of, 192 
 Sunderland, Countess of (Anne 
 
 Digby), 210 et seq., 237, 258, 
 
 284, 286 
 Sunderland, Countess of (Dorothy 
 
 Sidney, " Sacharissa "), 117, 
 
 119, 211, 229 
 Sunderland, Earl of (Robert 
 
 Spencer), 1 1 6, 1 86, 211^/ seq., 
 
 235» 258-9, 286 
 Sussex, Countess of (Anne Fitz- 
 roy), 50, 106, 116, 193, 257, 
 
 275 
 Swift, Jonathan, 182, 279, 292, 
 
 303 
 
 Talbot, Earl of, 29, 32 
 Temple, Lady, 197 
 Temple, Sir Richard, 212 
 Termes, servant to Comte de 
 
 Gramont, 134, 139, 142 
 Thynne, Thomas ("Tom of Ten 
 
 Thousand "), 196 et seq. 
 Trevor, Lady, 197 
 Tyrconnel, Earl of, 132, 145 
 
 Valliere, Louise de, 230 
 Vendome, Abbe (Grand Prior of 
 
 France), 242, 261 
 Verelst, Simon, 16, 25, 227,228 
 Verrio, Antonio, 285 
 Villiers, Barbara. See Castlemaine 
 Viner, Sir Robert, 248 
 Vratz, Captain, 197 
 
 W 
 
 Wadsworth, Mary (Mrs. Feild- 
 
 ing), 108 
 Waller, Edmund, 76, 84, 115, 
 
 119, 156, 183
 
 320 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Walpole, Horace, 23, 157, 170 
 
 Walters, Lucy, 229 
 
 Warmestre, Miss, maid of hon- 
 our, 113, 134 
 
 Wells, Miss, maid of honour, 
 105 
 
 Wentworth, Lady Henrietta, 121, 
 
 275 
 Wentworth, Thomas, 176 
 
 Whitmore, Lady (Frances 
 Brooke), 22, 23, 152, 154, 
 167 et seq., 281 
 
 Whitmore, Sir Thomas, 167-8 
 
 Whitmore, William, 281 
 
 William III, Prince of Orange, 
 14, 20, 200, 218, 221-3, 
 
 252, 258-9, 268, 273, 297, 
 
 307> 310 
 Wither, George, 156 
 
 Wood, Sir Henry, 194 
 
 Wriothesley, Audrey, 184 
 
 Wriothesley, Elizabeth. ^ee 
 
 Northumberland, Countess of 
 
 VVycherley, William, 106 
 
 York, Duchess of (Anne Hyde), 
 14, 16, 2"] etseq.^ 79>9o» "S* 
 122, 123, 134, 161, 163-4, 
 181, 189,304 
 York, Duke of. See James II 
 Yarborough, Sir Thomas, 142 
 
 WILUAM BRENDON AND iON, l-TD. 
 PRINTERS. PLYMOUTH
 
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