MARTHA, LADY GIFFARD

• • » » • •

Martha Temple (Lady Giffard), Born 1638, Died 1722.

IHA I • IFFARD

CORRESPONDENCE

1064-1722)

rO THE LETTERS OF DOROTHY OSBORNE

EDITED BY

JULIA G. LONGE

WITH PREFACE BY

HIS HONOUR JUDGE PARRY.

ANt> TWENTY-ONE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & SONS

44 & 45 RATHBONE PLACE 1911

[Ail rifrhts reserved]

MARTHA LADY GIFFARD

HER LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE

(1664-1722)

A SEQUEL TO THE LETTERS OF DOROTHY OSBORNE

EDITED BY

JULIA G. LONGE

WITH PREFACE BY

HIS HONOUR JUDGE PARRY

AND TWENTY-ONE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & SONS

44 & 45 RATHBONE PLACE 1911

[All rights reserved]

.^^A

^V"^

TO ^1 FATHER

PREFACE

Miss Longe has been good enough to ask me to write a few words of preface to her " Letters of Martha, Lady Giffard." This I do the more willingly remembering the kindness of other members of her family to myself when I was preparing my editions of Dorothy Osborne's '' Letters." It was as far back as 1 886 that an article of mine, drawing a fancy portrait of Dorothy Osborne, taken from some extracts from her letters printed in an appendix to Courtenay's '' Life of Temple," happened to fall into the hands of the late Mrs. S. R. Longe, who, with characteristic un- selfishness, was pleased to write to me as a ''fellow servant " of Dorothy Osborne, and place at my dis- posal the transcripts of the letters and the notes that she had made. It was from these transcripts that the volume I published in 1888 was printed. At that time it was not thought advisable by the experts of the publishing world to print all the letters ; but when, in 1903, it became possible to make a more complete book it was through the courtesy of Miss Longe 's father, Mr. Longe of Spixworth Park, that the Letters of Dorothy Osborne were at length published.

As in the past, the public owe a debt of gratitude to the members of Miss Longe's family in rendering these treasures accessible to the world of readers, so

283639

vi PREFACE

in the future this debt will be increased by the present volume, which adds much to our knowledge of Dorothy Osborne and her friends and relations.

The letters of Lady Giffard, Dorothy's sister-in-law, and of Lady Sunderland ('* Sacharissa"), Temple's friend, and the details of Lady Temple's life, are all matters that true servants of Dorothy Osborne will be glad to possess. The letters which deal more nearly with Dorothy's later life are naturally of especial in- terest to the writer, and although it cannot be said that they have the peculiar charm of the original love- letters, yet they carry on for us very pleasantly our interest in Dorothy and her circle. It is a pity that there are not more letters about "my son Jack . . . the quietest, best little boy yt ever was borne." In this phrase one sees that it is the same Dorothy that is writing, as earnest and simple and frank, now she is a mother, as in the days when she had been a lover.

Miss Longe has had the courage to do what is undoubtedly the right thing in printing the letters exactly as they were spelled and written, and one can only hope that a course that will make the book more attractive to students and scholars will not be found to repel the general reader, who will meet with so much entertainment and information in its pages.

For the book has a general interest altogether out- side its illustrations of the later life of Lady Temple. Much light is thrown on the life of her husband and his contemporaries. Letters that deal with the works and days of Sir William Temple, Swift, the Duchess of Somerset, and the Countess of Portland, to mention only a few of the names that appear in these pages,

PREFACE vii

must be welcomed by all students of the latter half of the seventeenth century. For the desire of readers of all classes to enjoy glimpses of the past life of their country-men and women which can only be obtained through contemporary letters seems to be growing apace. It is not so long ago since Courtenay printed a few incomplete extracts from Dorothy Osborne's letters, not without apology for inserting them in his serious history, and Macaulay referred to them with a passing and patronising pleasantry. Even when my original volume of Dorothy's *' Letters " was completed several notable publishers were clear that there were no readers for it. But to-day that attitude of mind is happily changed, and any one who can bring the reader into direct touch with a world and society that is gone by, skilfully using the actual letters and memorials of those who played their parts in the for- gotten drama, has a sure and certain welcome from an ever - widening circle of thoughtful men and women.

It is because I know the enthusiasm that many quiet readers have for Dorothy Osborne's letters that I feel sure there will be an eager desire to read this later correspondence, and to trace her influence in the affairs of her husband and family through the long autumn of Dorothy's life that followed the summer days of the love-letters.

EDWARD A. PARRY. Manchester, November 1910.

INTRODUCTION

Martha, Lady Giffard, sister of the great diplomatist and philosopher, Sir William Temple, is the central figure in these memoirs.

It is to her that her brother's historians owe many important details of his career. Under the respective titles of ** Life " and *' Character " of Sir William Temple she wrote an epitome of his life. The ** Character," published in pamphlet form about 1720, was written in vindication of Bishop Burnet's aspersions on his religious principles. Both MSS. are still in existence, and have been studied in the original, as a background for her letters.

'* MOREPARK, Mar, 4, 1694.

"Considering the sure Friendship that has soe long existed between us without interruption and perhaps without example, and which I am sure will do soe to the end of our lives, for I dare answer for you, as well as for my dearest sister's most affectionate Brother, Wm. Temple."

In his own '* cabinet," where he probably first placed it himself more than two centuries ago, lies the paper in Sir William Temple's handwriting from which these words are quoted ; it is addressed to

'' The Lady Giffard,

'' To be opened after my death, ** Wm. Temple."

INTRODUCTION ix

The little memorandum is of no importance now ; it relates to some diamond rings he had given her in his lifetime, and wishes her to leave to his grand- children. But the charming tribute to his sister's devotion and loyalty is worthy of remembrance.

Friendship indeed was the keynote of Lady Giffard's life. *' I always owne it," she wrote to Lady Chesterfield, " Friendship is y^ thing in y^ Worlde I have y^ greatest esteeme for. ... I must confess to have bin once soe happy in my kindnesse to some persons as to have found charms in their conversation greate enough at all times as to disperse all y® clouds my own fancy soe perpetually furnished me with ; and while my cure was soe neare, I was never sensible of my disease, a cette heure un si beau sofige est finy. For to say y® truth, all that has fallen of happiness to me has bin soe like a dream y*^ I should have reason to doubt y® reality of it, if I did not finde still y^ impression of my losse that time will never wear out."

Sad words, but true ; for she was early called upon to face the stern realities of life, and almost on its threshold her bubble of happiness burst.

She was married on the 21st April 1661 to Sir Thomas Giffard of Castle Jordan, Co. Meath, and a month later her bridegroom died in the flower of his youth, of one of those sudden, mysterious ''disorders" for which medical science had, as yet, no name. A sharp, short illness, an interval of pain and delirium, then a blessed unconsciousness, which ended in death ; and the bridal gown was exchanged for the widow's weeds.

A sermon of preposterous length, but of a quality above the usual standard of such discourses, was preached at his funeral in St. Audoen's Church, Dublin. A copy of it remains among Lady Giffard's papers to-day. After some eighteen pages of perora- tion occur these paragraphs : —

b

X INTRODUCTION

'* Here lyes before us the remainder of a hopeful yonge gentleman, Sir Thomas Giffard, consarning whom I shall not trouble you with telling that he was descended from an ancient and honourable famylie, that he was a comely person, that his relations were honourable and faithfull, valliant and wise. He was a young man of many parts, a lover too of church duties and a frequenter of the Communion of Saints, of a sweete carriage, an innocent conversation, affable and courteous, grateful and obliging. . . .

** In his early manhood practizeing carefully what he had learnt betymes. I have heard he usually marched in the head of his company to church, and at y^ entry into y^ holie place sometyms made them an antesermon, charging them carefully to attend to y® divine service and threatening to cashiere him who should dare on this day to doe an act unworthy of a Christian soldier.

*' I knewe him," continues the preacher, '' but in the hours of his death, but I have somtyms seene him in Parliament blush like a child, and I have heard him at the same tyme speake like a man.

** He wrought but one hour," he says quaintly, ** but it was y® first, and uninterrupted until God called him off."

Such was the man Lady Giffard mourned all her life.

This branch of the Giffards ended with this Sir Thomas, but they were without doubt the same family as that of the present Lord Halsbury, and the Giffards of Devonshire and Yorkshire.

Lord Halsbury, who represents the Devonshire branch, bears for arms three lozenges conjoined in fesse ermine.

Lady Giffard kept some of her letters in a small red leather case, tooled with gold and stamped with three lozenges, party per pale, argent and gules.

INTRODUCTION xi

The history of the Giffard family is one of ad- herence to the Stuarts, and Castle Jordan suffered in their cause.

She was not (as far as we know) either a great beauty or a great wit, and the charm and influence of Lady Temple never could have been eclipsed by the constant presence of the younger woman, who was clever and sympathetic enough to see and appreciate the other's brilliant gifts. They were probably ex- cellent foils for each other, and their contrasting personalities helped to make the English embassy at the Hague the delightful meeting-place that it was — the constant resort of Royalty and all persons of note whose pleasure or business took them to Holland.

The picture of her that forms the frontispiece is extraordinarily like the Netscher portrait of Sir William.

In personal appearance Lady Giffard must have been curiously like Sir William Temple. She has left us a word-portrait of her brother, *' whose person/' she says, '' will be best known by his pictures." This may be so, but the characteristic touches, noted by his sister, supply details the canvas cannot show.

"He was tall," she says, "rather than short, and his shape when he was young very exact. His hair of a dark browne, curled naturally, and while that was esteemed a beauty nobody had it in more perfection ; his eyes gray, but very lively ; in his youth lean but extremely active, soe y' nobody acquitted themselves better at all sorts of exercise, and had more spirit and life in his humour, and with soe agreeable veins of witt and fancy that nobody was welcomer in all company, and some have observed that he never had a minde to make anybody kinde to him that he did not compass it."

Lady Giffard lived through three great crises of

xii INTRODUCTION

England's history — the Commonwealth, or *' Ye Great Rebellion," as she called it, the Restoration, and the *' Surprising Revolution" of 1683. She took no pro- minent part at any time in the history of her own times, but her lot was cast with those who were in the forefront of battle.

In her MSS. she says so little of herself that we have to build up this connected history of her life principally from the letters of other people. ** Ye may know a man by his friends " ; and it is through her friends that we must chiefly become acquainted with this gentle lady of the seventeenth century. So unlike is she to our preconceived notions of ladies of fashion of that date, that if only for her surprisingly opposite qualities she must make us love her.

She was possibly not a woman to **set your soul on fire," nor the kind of woman for whom men profess themselves eager to die a hundred deaths ; but she was one who made (and kept) a great number of devoted friends of both sexes through all her long and varied life — an experience given only to those to whose characters is added that enviable and inde- finable quality called charm.

My thanks are due to Sir Algernon Osborn for kind permission to print the Osborne letters ; to Mr. Ashley, Lady De Saumarez, and Miss Meade, for the generous loan of their pictures ; and to Judge Parry, Mr. Barrett- Lennard, Mr. Anderson, and others, for their help and encouragement.

N.B, — The Netscher portraits of Sir William and Lady Temple are at Spixworth Park ; the frontispiece is in the possession of Colonel Douglas Longe.

JULIA G. LONGE. Spixworth Park, Nov. 10, 1910.

CONTENTS

PAGE

Dedication iv

Preface by Judge Parry v

Introduction viii

FART

I. Lady Chesterfield's Letters to Lady Giffard . i

IL Mrs. Temple's (Dorothy Osborne) Letters to

Sir William Temple i8

III. Diplomacy '. . 47

IV. Letters from Lady Sunderland (" Sacharissa ")

AND William Godolphin to Lady Giffard . 81

V. At the Hague 119

VI. A Chronicle of Family Events .... 144

VII. Moor Park 160

VIII. Lady Giffard's Letters to the Countess of

Portland when she was Lady Berkeley . 196

IX. The Death of Sir William Temple and the Publication of the Third Part of his

Memoirs 231

X. Lady Giffard's Letters to Lady Portland . 252

XI. Family News, and Dr. Young's Letters to Lady

Giffard 279

XII. The Duchess of Somerset and her Letters . 308

XIII. Last Days of Lady Giffard, and her Will . 345

xiii

THE BROADLANDS PICTURES

The presence of the Broadland portraits, reproduced through the kindness of Mr. Ashley for the first time, makes the collection of Temple family pictures an unique one. The Lely portraits of Sir William and Lady Temple and Lady Giffard, the Netscher picture of Lady GifFard and Diana Temple, as well as all the portraits of the Temples of East Sheen, are from Broadlands. The portrait that Swift sold for Mrs. Dingley's benefit to John Temple in 1736 is now there. Mr. Temple's Irish agent, Mr. Hatch, arranged for its transport. " I waited upon the Dean of St. Patrick's," he wrote, "with your service, I told him I had a ship ready to carry over Lady Giffard's picture if he would please to let me have it, in order to get it cased for the journey. He immediately gave it to me, and I will send it and the one I have in a ship that leaves in ten days." *' Jervas told me," wrote the Dean at the same date, " that your aunt's picture is in Lilly's best manner and the drapery all in the same hand." N.B. — Some of these pictures are mentioned in the Moor Park catalogue.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Martha Lady Giffard . . . . . Frontispiece In Colour, {Artist unknown.)

Lady Giffard To face page 8

By Sir Peter Lely.

Facsimile of Lady Temple's Handwriting . „ 24

Sir William Temple „ 48

By Sir Peter Lely.

Lady Temple „ 60

By Sir Peter Lely.

Dorothea, Countess of Sunderland . . „ 92

By Sir Peter Lely.

Lady Temple, Wife of Sir John Temple of

Sheen „ 132

By W. Wissing.

Lady Giffard and Diana Temple . . . „ 148

By Netscher.

Facsimile of Lady Giffard's Handwriting . „ 176

Jonathan Swift, while a Student at Trinity

College, Dublin „ 178

{Artist unknown.)

Lady Temple . ,, 192

By Netscher (1671).

XV

XVI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Sir John Temple the Younger, of Sheen To face page 196

By Sir Peter Lely,

Facsimile of Swift*s Handwriting (being his copy of Lady Giffard's Translation from the Spanish of Montemeyer)

Sir William Temple

By Netscher (1674).

Facsimile of Lady Portland's Writing . Facsimile of Sir William Temple's Writing

218 232

Lady Portland .

By Sir Godfrey KnelUr,

P(^ge 235

,) 251

To face page 252

Lady Berkeley of Stratton (Frances Temple)

By Dahl.

Lucy Temple

By Sir Godfrey KnelUr,

Moor Park

Shrubland Old Hall . . . .

By Repton,

The Duchess of Somerset . . . .

By Sir Peter Lely.

The Temple Relics at Spixworth Park . The Temple Cabinet at Spixworth Park

264

276

280 286

308

350 350

LETTERS OF MARTHA, LADY GIFFARD

PART I

1664-1665. Charles II

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS

"The style of letters should be free, easy and natural, as near approaching to familiar conversation as possible. The best qualities in conversation are good humour and good breeding ; those letters, therefore, are certainly the best that show the most of these two qualities."— William Walsh (i 663-1 709).

The earliest letters Lady Giffard has left us are dated 1664, and are from Elizabeth, Countess of Chesterfield, wife of Philip the second earl. She was a daughter of the first Duke of Ormond, known in history as the Great Duke, at this time Lord High Steward of the Household of Charles II., having previously been Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. The friendship between the two ladies was one no doubt of early girlhood, when Lady Chesterfield s father had reigned in Dublin Castle, and Sir John Temple had been Master of the Rolls there.

Lord Chesterfield was already a widower when he married the Lady Elizabeth Butler, his first wife having been Lady Anne Percy, daughter of the Earl of Northumberland. He was a cold, proud man, soured

A

2 LADY GIFFARD^S CORRESPONDENCE

by the faithlessness and cupidity of the infamous woman who was then virtually, though not legally, Queen of England.

When Katherine of Braganza was sent from her convent to England as the bride of Charles II., Lord Chesterfield was appointed her Chamberlain ; and with his father-in-law the Duke of Ormond, and Lord Carlingford her Master of the Ceremonies, sailed with the Duke of York's squadron to meet her. The poor little queen made a more pleasing impression on her Chamberlain than she did on Englishmen in general. He described her as **very discreet, of a good understanding, in person exactly shaped " (which, in the phraseology of the day, meant she had a good figure), ** lovely hands, excellent eyes, a good coun- tenance, a pleasing voice, and fine hair ; and in fine is what an understanding man would wish for a wife." It is a pity his lordship could not have had her. She might have suited him better than his own only too attractive lady !

His great-grandson the fifth earl (he of the cele- brated letters) quotes the following description of this lord from de Grammont's Memoirs : '* II avait le visage fort agr^able, la tete assez belle, peu de taille et moins d'air, il ne manquait pas d'esprit, un long sdjour en Italie lui en avait communique la cer^monie dans le commerce des hommes et la defiance dans celui des femmes."

Lely painted a very charming picture of Lady Chesterfield, who was beautiful among the many beautiful women who shone in the gay crowd at Whitehall. A contemporary writer describes her as having "the most exquisite shape imaginable, but

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 3

not tall, fair with all the glow and whiteness of a blonde, and all the animation and piquancy of a brunette. She had large blue eyes which were very alluring, her manners engaging, her wit lively, but her heart, ever open to tender sentiment, was not very scrupulous in point of constancy." In short, she had the defects of her qualities, and it was her misfortune that so much loveliness and lovableness should have been wasted on a man who did not love her, but who indulged in a grande passion for Lady Castlemaine, who, if she had ever loved him, had long since thrown him aside for the king.

In such an atmosphere of gallantry and intrigue, it was inevitable that she should eventually become entangled in an affaire de cceur ; and, wounded by the coldness of the man she had married, she (too openly for those scandal-loving times), fell back on the affection of her own first cousin, James Hamilton.

It needed perhaps the prick of jealousy to open Lord Chesterfield's eyes to his wife's attractions, and he soon had cause for it.

At that time they were living in her father's house at Whitehall, and the Duke of York, afterwards James II., whose amours at that period of his life were almost as notorious as the king's, was a frequent visitor. The duke was a dangerous man ; he pos- sessed in common with the rest of his family that extraordinary charm that his grandmother Marie Stuart left as a fatal inheritance to her descendants. Moving amongst the noisy crowd with his handsome face and dignified bearing, and that grave, rare smile that contrasted so favourably with the mirth and often brainless laughter of the majority of the court gallants,

4 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

he could not fail to flatter the vanity, if not touch the heart, of any woman he distinguished with his notice ; and Lady Chesterfield was both touched and flattered by the very obvious devotion of his Royal Highness. She was too ingenuous to conceal her pleasure in his attentions. Gossip began to be busy with her name, yet she apparently paid no heed to it, and thereby awoke another green-eyed monster in her cousin Hamilton, who, furious at her preference for the Duke's society, urged Lord Chesterfield to banish her from London ; and he, not considering perhaps that the underlying motive of this advice was a jealousy as bitter and violent as his own, packed her off to Bretby, his seat in Derbyshire, a beautiful but lonely spot, where she had ample leisure to reflect on her folly, and little temptation to further flirtations.

Such a tit-bit of scandal was not likely to escape the ears of ** little prattling Peeps," and his peerless diary records, on 3rd November 1662, how Pierce the chirurgeon tells him that ** The Duke of York is smitten with love for My Lady Chesterfield (a virtuous Lady, daughter of D^® of Ormond), and so much that the Duchess of York has complained to the King and her Father about it, and my Lady Chesterfield is gone into the country for it, at all of which I am sorry ; but it is the effect of idleness and having nothing else to employ their great spirits upon."

Thus does the kind-hearted little man make excuses for the pretty lady, whose blue eyes, viewed from a respectful distance, doubtless had made their due impression on his susceptible organ.

*' This day I was told the occasion of my L* Chesterfield's going & taking his lady from Court.

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 5

It seems he has long been jealous of the Duke of York, and did find these two talking together though there were others in ye room and the Lady by all opinions a most virtuous good woman. . . . My Lord did presently pack his Lady into the Country in Derbyshire near the Peak, w^^ is become a pro- verb in courts * to send a man's wife to the Peak ' when she vexes him."

His precipitancy in packing his wife off post- haste to the Peak created, as it well might do, the most violent excitement at the court. A perfect passion of sympathy with the imprudent beauty, and disapproval of her lord's severity, followed her into her distant retreat. ** And," wrote de Grammont, ** on regardait avec ^tonnement en Angleterre un homme qui avait le malhonnetet^ d'etre jaloux de sa femme ! "

In the early days of the Restoration a jealous husband was simply *' funny," and became the butt of all the wits in London. For removing his young wife from the dangerous fascination of the Duke, Chesterfield committed a solecism which charitable people sought to make excuses for.

" On excusa le pauvre Chesterfield," says his descendant, still quoting de Grammont, "as much as one dared without provoking too much public dislike on account of the bad education he had had, having passed many years of his life in Italy, where they have the evil habit of secluding their wives."

Her ladyship's banishment pleased no one, not even perhaps the Duchess of York, whose complaint to the king had raised the storm, for she was a good-natured woman, and possibly did not mean to make such a scandal. Two short years deprived

6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

her of her beautiful rival, and provided her with a far more objectionable one in her place.

The knowledge of what was going on was pro- bably what induced Lady Giffard to write the serious and thoughtful letter on the subject of friendship, extracts from which have already been quoted (see Introduction). Judging from the elaborate care with which she has tried to explain herself, one infers that Lady Chesterfield has made her some of those half confidences which are so exceedingly annoying and perplexing to the recipient, and yet are almost a necessity in matters of love ; and while not commit- ting herself to any definite statement, has tried to test the value of her friendship, and at the same time sound her views as to how near it was possible to sail to the wind without suffering shipwreck. Lady Giffard, reading between the lines, has set herself conscientiously (and with some courage too, for she was the younger woman by three years) to administer some excellent though not very palatable advice, under the cloak of generalities not too well disguised.

** I have been much unsatisfied with myself," she writes, **for answering this morning with so little a consideration to a question that deserves I think so much from the first thoughts of it (w°^ I must confess to have received from y' La'^).

** After this confession. Madam, you will not easily believe me likely to judge rashly upon what may reasonably be allowed to shake a friendship y* is once firmly grounded or at least unlikely to condemn myself for having done so w^^ has been my employ- ment ever since and though 'tis possible I may have said the same thing by chance y* my reason

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 7

may afterwards represent to me as truest like the judge y* always tooke his opinions from y* dice in his closet before he gave it upon y® Bench and happened by that to grow more famous than those that were guided by their judgments or their books, yet I cannot satisfy myself that it was only done well by chance. But, Madam, I ought to have under- stood whether 'twas unfortunately you meant, or deservedly (that I might not trouble you with both) when you asked me if I thought the loss of reputation or Honour in the person I had chosen to make a friend, could justifye the lessening my kindness to them w^^ I am opinion there are few things in the world can make allowable, and must confess to think that whoever should make the first an occasion never deserved the name of being one. It rather appears to me one of those misfortunes that as the greatest sign of a real Friendship ought to engage ones kind- ness and endeavours in lessening ye affliction if it i be possible or at least sharing it with them and repairing it with y* w^^ of all things under Heaven is the most capable of doing it. The assurance of the fidelity and constancy of a friend, w^^ is able to make the greatest misfortune tolerable.

** But all this kindness of one part may reasonably expect an equal return on the other, y* is all y* freedome in the Worls in confessing the disaster, as well as y® occasion of it, whether it proceeds from ourselves or others, for sure, reservedness can least of all things consist with a perfect Friendship, it may do with the shadows of it, w^^ I thinke is all y* now remains amongst us, and as I think reservedness to a friend upon any accedent or misfortune though

8 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

y® misfortune no way deserves it may excuse the lessening one's kindness to them, so I thinke, Madam, upon y* others part of y' question of those whose misery proceeds from their own Fault & w** I was about to say I thought a justifyable occasion of being unkind to, yet I am apt to believe greate freedom and openness of their souls would have power to hinder me from ever leaving them if I were y* Friend. At least while I discerned in them trouble enough for y' misfortune to hinder me from suspecting they would ever be guilty of another, though I know not whether it be not too greate an expression of my constancy & good nature and too great a reverence for y* w^^ certainly deserves it mor y° anything in the world and whether one may not reasonably be allowed to conclude a person y* had so little care of their Honour could not have much of their Friend. I am apt to believe there is something so virtuous and so esteem- able goes to the making of a perfect friend y* any one thing meane or unworthy in that person should incline me to suspect all ye rest and though I value little what the world says of one in comparison of that happiness w^^ is so far above all their opinions can give & therefore never quit my friend because the world believes she deserves I sh*^ do it, yet I should have courage enough to venture a misfortune w°^ I know I have always strength too little to beare." All this sounds rather cold and judicial, and unless it was accompanied by some expressions of warmer regard, and sympathy, t^ recipient would scarcely have penned the five afiectionate letters that Lady Giffard treasured. It is only the rough copy of the little " lecture " that lies ai ong her papers here.

Sir Peter Lely pinxii

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 9

Lady Chesterfield had been living for a year and a half in the great house set in its formal gardens in far-away Bretby when she wrote the first of these letters. She had fallen into ill-health and experienced a touch of the *'vappers," which was certainly to be expected when one considers the change that had come suddenly into her life — the contrast of the quiet, monotonous existence with the glare and glamour of Whitehall, and the wild dissipations of the wildest court of Europe at its wildest moment ; and one can imagine the legions of ** vappers " and megrims that must have assailed her, although she writes so pluckily of the ** sattisfaction " her surroundings give her.

Sir William Temple says that good nature is say- ing things that you think will please others, and good breeding lies in saying nothing that can hurt or offend another ; and the poet Walsh thinks that " those letters are best that show most of these two qualities." He is right, perhaps, from the point of view of the recipient, but to the impartial reader a little less of these excellent ingredients and a little more piquancy would have added flavour to these amiable letters, which are almost girlish in their warm expressions of affection, so quaintly at variance with their sometimes formal diction.

LETTER I

June the 4/A, 1664. I am infinitely overjoyed to heare of your safe Arrivall and now my deare friend I thinke it will not be improper after the promises you maide me at our parting, to put you in minde of seeing me heare, to purchasse which happynesse I would doe anythinge in the worlde, so passionately I owne my joy, being a selfe lover. Pray by

B

lo LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the next posst send me word when I may expect you, and how far you would have my choch to meet you. I heare a flying report of your being to be married, but to whom none could tell me. I hope it is not true, it being that which I would admyre you to deferre as long as your friends will suffer you. When I left you we weare both of the same opinion and I hope as yet you have not changed it. If you have I am one of the inluckiest creaturs alive in flattering myselfe with the beliefe of injoying your com- pany which if this be true I shall not. Pray deale clearly with me, and send me word if I am to credit a report that assumes a very sensible trouble to — Yours.

Direct your letters to Derby to be sent to Bredbye. For the Lady Giffard at Mr.

Wing's house over aginst

new street and in St.

Martin's Lane, London.

This letter was written soon after the arrival of the Temple family in England, and Lady Giffard had been nearly two years a widow.

Lady Chesterfield was evidently so little in love with matrimony herself that she had no Inclination to persuade her friend to re-enter the bonds, and It is apparent from the tone of the following letter that Lady Giffard was considerably annoyed at the report which had got about of the likelihood of such an event.

LETTER II

My deare Friend, — I am more afflicted then I could have imagined anything in the world could have maide me after the recovry of a very troublesome and painful indisposition, but now that the violence of that is abated you involve me in a more insupportable trouble then any

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS ii

I ever felt by the despaire you putt me in of a happynesse I thought myselfe sure of and instead of using that free- dome with me that I have ever practised in all my con- cerns towards you, you now begin to put me with un- friendly excuses by telling me that though you doe not thinke Mrs. (Joist ?) the wisest woman in her country yett you thinke she has not deserved such an enemy as G. O. that person is so inconsiderable to me when any insinua- tions of this come in ballance with the affection I have for you as nothing in the world would be of lesse waite but I assure you upon my word that I am sertin they never have as they have not to me, sayed any suche thing to any body, and if this is not a cruell deniall that you have made to put me of it is the greatest piece of mallis in your Informer to G. O. that ever I heard of for to my knolidg they doe not speak better of any person then they have done before me of your friend and G. O. has a very perticular respecte for her but had they the greatest aver- sion to her imaginable nothing of this should daterre me from pressing the same request with as much heate as ever besides I am soe free as to the power of giving that person all the welcome that they can expect as due to theare meritt that I am very indifferent wheather G. O. be satisfied with my choyce or no since I am sure the only body that I am obliged by duty or inclination to consider is very extremely well pleased with the Caviller I have maide him of I thinke the worthyist woman in the world and to her I bend all my desier and my hopes are fixed upon her Constance to welcome without reluctance the promisse you maide so muche in favour of — Yours.

June 17, 1664.

I have a greate many Baux at her service whos com- pany I desiere, informe yourselfe and send me word when my choch shall meet her.

My humble service to your sister the country now is soe pleasant that though my Lord is at London and this

12 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

place is solitary enuff, yett I will sweare I never in my life parst my time with more sollid satisfaction, pray answer this as soon as possibly you can for I am impatient to heare the success of yis bill. Farewell, my deare Friend.

Lucidity of expression was apparently not Lady Chesterfield's forte, and we must hope and believe that Lady Giffard, who doubtless possessed the clues which are denied to us, was able to unravel the mean- ing of this letter ! " The worthyist woman in the world " is doubtless Lady Giffard herself, but it is hope- less to discover who the cavalier is, unless G. O. should stand for Godolphin, whose name in other letters of the time was frequently abbreviated to ** Godo," so why not " G.O." ? The postscript of this letter scarcely rings true, and is pathetic in its useless insincerity. Did she really think Lady Giffard would believe that she was passing her time with so much ** sollid satis- faction " as she protested, or that '* barbarous London " contained no more of interest for her than the term implied ? Was it a futile and transparent effort to mislead her friend, or was it only a bit of childish bravado put on to hide the smart ? One inclines to the latter supposition.

July the ist sees another letter despatched from Bretby containing more apologies, and more desire for the company of her ** deare friend," which she is destined to. be denied again and again. On August loth the post carried another, always with the same refrain ; the countess is very persistent, and Lady Giffard very determined, probably necessarily so, for she naturally does not care to leave her ** sister," Dorothy Temple, at a time when she was most wanted at home.

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 13

LETTER III

July the first 1664.

My dear Friend, — I am extremely troubled to find by yours of the 20th that I am not to expect the satis- faction of your company for a long continuance till after your sister is up again and though I owne I am very covetious of it sooner, yett I will not be so foolishly fond of it as to presse you to for so very short a time pray send me word if you thinke it impossible for your sister to be persuaded to dispense with your absence while she lays for if she would be soe selfe denying and so very obliging to me that longs of all things in the world to see you I should acknolidg it the greatest generossety for her imaginable and a very peculiar honour to me as for what you apprehend of Mrs Scropes power with me to your prejudice your justification on that poynt is very unnecessary for I assure you the esteeme & kindnesse I have for you is much above the civility, I have for her besides I have so genneral a justice for all persons as never to condemn any with out indenyable proufs of theare guiltt but Mrs Scrow (Scrope ?) is so little a person in my opinion and so sildom in my thoughts that whoever gave her that information I forgive them though I doe not remember I told anybody of the kind things she sayed of me but I will never believe it was you, when you have thoughts of coming to Bredby send me word and my choch shall meet you at Northampton to which place choches com twice a weake so that with all the conveancey you can wish for you can come heather send me word by the next posst how you like this proposition, if you do not theare ar outlier towns you may your choche to com to, if you have any kind- nesse for me hassen me the happynesse I beg of for nobody living loves you so well as — YouRS.

14 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The Mrs. Scrope whom Lady Giffard has appa- rently suspected of making mischief between her and Lady Chesterfield must be, I think, one of the daughters of the last Lord Scrope of Bolton. Burke in his extinct ** Peerage " gives this note : ** Emanuel, Earl of Sunderland and last Baron Scrope, left three natural daughters, amongst whom the estates of the Scropes were divided —

" Mary = Hon. Hen. Carey. Annabella = John Grubbham Howe, Esq. Elizabeth = Thomas Savage, Earl Rivers."

It is impossible to decide which of these three Mistress Scropes is alluded to, but Mrs. Howe's name occurs several times in Lady Giffard's letters thirty years later to Lady Portland, when she was evidently an acquaintance or friend of the family.

The infant who, from Lady Chesterfield's point of

view, insisted upon coming into the world at such an

inopportune moment, was John Temple, the only one

of William and Dorothy's seven children who reached

maturity ; he was the sixth child, and his birth gave

the liveliest joy to his parents, proportionate only to

their grief at his tragic death twenty-six years later.

So much sadness had attended the short lives of the'

other five, who, like the babe in the well-known

epitaph,

" Came into the world,

Found nothing worth its stay, Took but one look And went on its way,"

that it was no wonder Lady Giffard could not be tempted to desert her sister-in-law at such a time. The Temples were living on a small income —

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 15

some five or six hundred a year — in their first little house at Sheen, and Mr. Temple (as he was then) was spending most of his time in London waiting for an appointment.

LETTER IV

My deare Friend, — I expected to have heard from you many possts since in answer to a letter of mine wherein I desyred to know when I should send my choch to Northampton for you. I heare it miscarryed and so am writing againe to trouble you with the same question. I hope by this time y' sister is brought to bed and very well and that you will noe longer delaye me of a happynesse I cannot be satisfied without. I am now all alone and am like to be soe to my Lord's bussnyes keeping him in Towne. I knew nothing of returning in to Ireland and I doe believe I never shall, being very well settled heare and perfectly contented I shall be when you will bee soe good as to performe the promisse you have maide to my deare friend. — Yours.

Aug. the loM, 1664.

After an interval of some months my Lady Chester- field tries to lure her friend to Wellingborough, where she is drinking the ** *Watters' which are worse than any pains." The attractions of the little market-town do not appear very inviting, and one wonders if her ladyship dwelt in a tent, as did King Charles I. and Henrietta Maria when they went there to drink at the " red well," as they did for several summers.

LETTER V

My deare Friend, — My removal from Bredby to the Watters wheare I now am and a great deale of com- pany that left me not till the day I begun my journey

i6 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

heather hindered me ever since I received your lasst letter from writing to you and this place is so much duller than that from whence I came that could the Watters worke a merakle theare is no living in so hott and durty a place though I did not absolutely despaire of your having good natur annuffe after living so long in the barbarous towne of London as wee contry ladeys call it, to make a jurney heather I would disemble as towne ones doe, and discover as I have done the facts of, but, without rallerey I have heard you complain of the spleen and they all esteeme the watters of this place the best cure of the vappers of it, which are certinley lesse supportable than the payne of anything that can be given, pray consid' ones advice that has lived long enough in a cold mal- lincoly aire to be perfectly learned in all the poynts of that Distemper and if you have found the trouble of it as much as you will seeking to oblige me, send me word that you will come and be cured with — YouRS forever.

WiLLINGBOROU, 20th of JwtC [1665].

derect your letters to Northampton to be sent on to me at Willingborrour and I shall sertinley receave theme, for your greater immitation my Lady Ruthin is within 4 miles of this towne.

The letter is sealed in red wax, with the familiar coronet and the letters ** E. C." interlaced, and ad- dressed to —

*'The Lady Giffard,

at Mr. Staces a Taylour in King Street,

Covent Garden."

The Lady Ruthin whose near neighbourhood is held out as a bait, was Lady Grey de Ruthin, a baroness in her own right at the death of her father in 1648. She had been a girl-friend of Lady Temple's,

LADY CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS 17

and is several times mentioned in her letters, and always with the greatest admiration and affection. "'Tis our Hyde Park," writes Dorothy (describing a country road near Chicksands), '* and every fine evening, any one that wanted a Mistress would be sure to find one there. I have wondered often to meet my Lady Ruthin there alone : methinks it should be dangerous for an heir. I could find in my heart to steal her away myself, but rather for her person than her fortune."

Lady Ruthin married Sir Christopher Yelverton, whom Dorothy calls ** a pretty little gentleman," and to whose wooing she says, '* I have given my con- sent ! so I think we shall have a wedding ere 'tis very long."

Poor little Lady Chesterfield paid dearly for her flirtations. She never returned to London, and lived more or less in retirement, though as long as her lord was tied to his office of Lord Chamberlain he came backwards and forwards to Bretby, where they enter- tained a good many friends. One would like to have known if Lady Giffard conjured up an attack of ** spleen," and joined her, as she so much desired, at Wellingborough — one hopes she did, for probably the poor lady never tasted the unpleasant **watters" again. No ''merakle" was worked on her behalf, and before the next summer came round the ** alluring blue eyes " were closed in death.

She left one little daughter, who eventually married Lord Strathmore, the fourth earl, and Lord Ches- terfield married en troisieme noces Lady Elizabeth Dormer, eldest daughter and co-heir of the Earl of Carnarvon.

PART II

1664-1665. Charles II

MRS. TEMPLE'S (DOROTHY OSBORNE) LETTERS TO HER HUSBAND

" All letters, methinks, should be free and easy as one's discourse, not studied like an oration nor made up of hard words like a charm. 'Tis an admirable thing to see how some people will labour to find terms that may obscure a plain sense, like a gentleman I knew who would never say ' the weather grew cold,' but that ' winter begins to salute us.' I have no patience for such coxcombs, and cannot blame an old uncle of mine who threw the standish at his man's head because he writ a letter for him, where instead of saying (as his master bid him) that * he had the gout in his hand,' he said ' that the gout would not permit him to put pen to paper.'

" The Fellow thought he had mended it mightily, and that putting pen to paper was much better than plain writing !"

—Dorothy Osborne (1653).

Dorothy Osborne's many admirers will gladly re- cognise her hand in the following letters ; and if the wrong-doings of grooms and stable-boys be of less interest than the peccadilloes of '* gallants and cox- combs," they will cheerfully allow that it is not the writer's fault, but that of circumstances. Legitimate endearments and confidences of married people must ever lack the romance that surrounds the restrained expressions and suggestions of covered fires that pervade the letters of unauthorised lovers, but the brightness and charm of the lady of William Temple's heart shows through them all.

Dorothy's pen was always that of "a ready

18

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 19

writer," and she perfectly carried out her uncle Francis Osborne's advice to correspondents : " When business or compliment calls you to write a letter, consider what is fit to be said were the party present, < and set it down." Her letters had always been talks with their recipients — not dull catalogues of events and diaries of engagements, but the style of corre- spondence that donne a penser — and it was very much her habit to follow another precept of her scholarly uncle, ''to find the way to elegancies of style by employing her pen on every errand," not forgetting that ''the more trivial and dry it is, the more brains must be allowed for sauce."

Dorothy Temple's brains were of a fine quality, and the sauce of her correspondence was of the most piquant e.

Sheen

" Get ye gone to Sheen," said King Charles good- humouredly, on the occasion of his offering Temple the seals of Secretary of State in 1677, " we shall get no good of you till you have been there ! "

The vague term ** Sheen " has hitherto always stood for the first English home of the William Temples. Often in his Memoirs and Letters Sir William speaks of his *' little corner of Sheen" where his heart is set, and "the possession of which makes no disappointments seem great." John Evelyn went to see him "at Sheen." King William visited the Temples "at Sheen." The Duchess of Somerset called on her friends '* at Sheen ; " Swift lived with the family ** at Sheen ; " it was always vaguely " Sheen ! " Sheen ! Sheen ! but where — in what

20 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

part of Sheen — nobody knew. Writers have puzzled for many decades over the meagre information the term has given them, and few if any of the people who have written about the Temples (in whom there is apparently a perennial interest) know that Rich- mond was once called *' Sheen." This made the area in which to seek the lost ''corner" larger, but local antiquaries and topographists have located it at last on the site of the present observatory there, and Mr. Beresford Chancellor in his '* History and Antiquities of Richmond" gives the ** pedigree" of the place, which was originally a monastery for forty monks.

These seven letters from Mrs. Temple to her husband must have been written from Sheen early in the year 1665, while he was gadding about the town en garfOfty and making friends with the pullers of wires and chief players in the game of politics. They show us how little different from the Dorothy we knew as a girl was this Dorothy, the wife, and the owner of five little graves in the green island over the sea. The letters show us that she has kept the resolution she made in the days of their engagement that her love for him should never stand in his way, or drag him back as she has known that of other wives do. She has let her ''best Deare Hearte" go away from her into the gayest and maddest of cities without complaint, and when he stays over long she only chides him in her playful way, and makes fun of his probably very unfounded complaint that her letters are too short or too cold. ** But now I remember jme you would have such letters as I used to write before we married, there are many such in your cabinet." (So even then in those early days he

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 21

kept her letters in his ** cabinet," where some of them still lie.) She brings out, too, the old family joke we remember hearing of before, of her brother's gibes that she had more ** kindness for her lover than he had for her," and that after they were married he would reproach her for it.

''Jack" was born in 1663-4, after they left Ireland, and must have been now little more than a year old. There is no allusion to Lady Giffard in any of these letters, so they must, I think, have been written during one of her short absences, or she surely would have had some message to send her brother.

The description of the importance of Mr. Mayor, and the quality of his ruff, reminds us of the "Emperor" of the old days, one of Lady Temple's rejected suitors ; just such a man with just such a ruff the words conjure up.

Dorothy had long since made her husband ac- quainted with her requirements in a partner for life. As long ago as 1653 she regaled him with her views, which might have frightened some of her more timid adorers away ; for many of them might have re- cognised their own shortcomings in the attributes this difficult damsel ''would have none of," had they been possessed of that very doubtful blessing which no one but the most self-satisfied of mortals can honestly desire — the gift of " seeing ourselves as others see us."

But the picture was drawn in delicate flattery to Temple, and it required no fairy gifts to read between the lines !

" There are a great many ingredients that must go to the making me happy in a husband. First,

22 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

as my cousin Franklin says, our humours must agree, and to doe that he must have the same kind of breeding that I have, and used to that kind of company. That is, he must not be so much of a country gentleman as to understand nothing but hawks and dogs, and be fonder of either than his wife ; nor of the next sorte of them whose aim reaches no further than to be Justice of the Peace and once in his life High Sheriff, who reads no books but Statutes and studies nothing but how to make a speech interlaced with Latin that may amaze his disagreeing poor neighbours and fright them rather than persuade them into quietness. He must not be a thing that began the world in a free school, was sent from thence to the University, and at his furthest, when he reaches the Inns of Court, has no acquaintances but those of his form in these places, speaks the French he has picked out of old laws, and admires nothing but the stories he has heard of the revels that were kept there before his time.

** He must not be a town gallant neither, that cannot imagine how an hour should be spent with- out company unless it be in sleeping, and making court to all the women he sees, thinking they believe him, and laughs, and is laughed at equally. Nor a travelled Monsieur whose head is all feather inside and outside and can talk of nothing but dancing and duels, and has courage to wear slashes when every one else dyes of cold to see him. He must not be a fool of noe sort. Nor peevish nor ill-natured, nor proud nor covetous, and to all this must be added that he must love me and I him as much as we are capable of loving. Without all this his fortune though never

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 23

soe great would not satisfye me, and with it a very moderate one would keep me from ever repenting my disposal."

The inverted picture of her ideal husband is extra- ordinarily clever, and shows how thoroughly she read the character of the man she had promised to marry. The inverse is Temple to the life ; and in some of the points she insists upon as unallowable, she puts her fingers on his weak parts, which she can really have scarcely more than guessed at. Certainly, as he ticked off the points (which it is conceivable that he did) he must have smiled as he recognised himself. Unquestionably their *' humours agreed," and if they had not had quite the same sort of breeding, they belonged to the same social status, and moved in the same circles. He was assuredly not of the type of country gentleman that she objected to ; though very fond of horses, he cared little for hawks and dogs as far as we know, and his ambitions reached further than the High Sheriff once in a lifetime.

The books he read for pleasure were very unlike statutes, but romances of the most sentimental order ; he did not begin his life in a free school, but he did go to the University and was ** bred to the law" ; the French he spoke was not archaic, and the stories he liked were much what she did, amusing bits of gossip and on dits of the day. He certainly played at one time the ''town gallant," but he neither ** lived at a tavern" nor was ''wretched without company," being always very fond of his own society. If he did make love to any fair ladies, he was not so foolish as to make Dorothy jealous ; and though he had travelled a good cjeal* he was not alw^^ys bragging of his

24 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

adventures. He was quiet and ** exact" in his dress, his sister tells us. He certainly was no fool, though sometimes peevish, nor ill-natured nor discourteous. About the pride there may be two opinions, but one thing was certain — he loved his '* Mistress " and she him **with all the love they were capable of," and that was saying a great deal ; and Dorothy, for all her brother's gibes, felt quite safe in the knowledge that he would never treat her as her typical squire might have done —

" When his passion had run its novel course, A little nearer than his dog, a little dearer than his horse."

When she addressed these *' scrips " to him they had been married twelve years ; it is plain that he had not disappointed her.

Among the people herein mentioned, students of ** Dorothy Osborne's Letters " will recognise several old friends. There is *' Jane," who called herself Sir William's ''fellow servant" in the early days of their courtship. Lady Temple was very much attached to *' Jane," who was one of the Chicksands household, and was equally useful as a duenna, maker of marmalades or purveyor of prohibited sweets in the form of love-letters ; she was sister to Mrs. Goldsmith, the wife of the Rector of Chicksands. These letters show that she continued to stay if not live with Dorothy after she married. *' My Aunt " was probably Lady Danvers, her mother's sister. She had married as his third wife Sir John Danvers the regicide, whom Dorothy derisively called " my precious Uncle."

They lived in a beautiful house at Battersea near

Facsimile of Lady Temple's Handwriting

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 25

old Chelsea Church, and close to the river in the near

neighbourhood of Sir Thomas More's house. It

was a '* sumptuous " abode enriched with marbles and

standing in a beautiful garden in the Italian style.

The identity of the ill-conditioned boy is undiscover-

able.

LETTER I

My Dearest Heart, — Forby did me great wrong in not delivering the long scrip I sent you, I know if you had seen it before you writt yours would have bin some- thing longer than it is. But I am thankful however ; and indeed you sent mee very good news, of my Aunt's stay in Towne for the thought of that journey was not very pleasant to me. I am glad you have found a footman too, and Tom shall bee sent up as you appoint, but how will you doe to returne your money. I am in some paine for you. Mr. Lawfort has made up a bill of ^15 od money, £$ wee had before and ^^5 now, and the linnen with some od things you had, buttons, and silke, &c. I sent to our neighbour Mr. Osgood to know if hee could help us, but hee is not provided at present hee says. I doe not think but Mr. Ward of Newgate Markett could doe it, he has acquaintance heare for I have had letters sent mee from him by Townsmen, if you have any from Irelande pray let me have them to entertaine my self e withall till you come. It seems tis true that my Aunt Temple comes away for my cousin Mary Hammond writes my Aunt word yt she and my Lady Waller were at Battersay to see my Uncle and where they told her they expected her very suddenly. Poore woman I am sorry for her, tis certain the dread of us that frights her away.

Jack is invited to Coly a-shroving, but my Lady says she believes she is never to see you there, I sayed what I could to excuse you, but you are concluded the arrantist gadder in ye country, none matter though my deare I love you for all that see you will hast home againe.

D

26 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Doe you mean to look for some lodgings and roome to lay our goods in that must be thought on. I '< memed " to stand out of harms way when the Great Wall fell downe. Here come Creeper that will let me say no more but that we are both yours. If Tom goes remember Mrs. Fountains hood.

The allusion to the difficulties of conveying money from one person to another, which occurs so frequently in contemporary letters, gives one an idea of what an inestimable boon the starting of the Bank of England must have been some twenty-eight years later.

Charles and his ministers never paid, on principle, any one who did not ask for their promised wage, and subsequent events showed that but for his wife. Temple (once safe away on the other side of the Channel) would have been left without funds ; but Dorothy summoned Sir William Godolphin and her cousin Sir Thomas Osborne and others to her assist- ance, and shamed or coaxed the authorities into pro- viding the sinews of war. She had not run the Chicksands establishment without acquiring some use- ful knowledge of business, and Temple, it is seen, entrusted her with his monetary affairs.

This mention of *' my Aunt Temple " is the only one I have ever seen in any memoirs of the family. She must have been either an unmarried sister of Sir John's or the wife of his brother ; whoever she was, she had not the happiest of relations with the family at Sheen, neither is it particularly clear from whence the dread of them has ** frighted her away."

**My Lady Waller" was probably the widow of the Royalist general, Sir William Waller.

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 27

Little Jack's invitation to go "a-shroving" settles the approximate date of this letter ; it must obviously have been written just before the beginning of Lent. "Shroving" in England was what the carnival was abroad — all sorts of quaint customs and mummery- took place on Shrove Tuesday, and it is curious to think that even then Westminster boys were tossing pancakes over the beam as they do religiously to-day.

Coly, or Colney, Park, was the seat of Sir John Vachell. At Coly-cross Edward V. met the loyal mayor and aldermen of Reading. Coley House Charles L made his headquarters after the first battle of Newbury (May 16, 1644), staying there three nights himself before going to Sheen. The Temples were some little time at Reading, where, if they did not already know them, they doubtless made friends with the Vachell family.

LETTER II

Tis mighty well too that I have sett upon thorns these two howers for this sweet scrip full of reproaches.

Pray what did you expect I should have writt, tell me that I may know how to please you next time.

But now I remember me you would have such letters as I used to write before we were marryed, there are a great many such in your cabinet yt. I can send you if you please but none in my head I can assure you. Tis not the great abondance of diversion I finde heer though, nor want of any kindnesse (I think) that hinders mee from being just what I was then, but a dullnesse yt I can give no accounte of and that I am not displeased with but for your sake and because it is many times an occasion of the making good one of my Brothers propheys

28 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

whoe used to tell mee often I had more kindnesse for you then became mee, and that I might assure myselfe if I ever came to bee your wife you would reproach mee wth. it, I might perhaps though been something more dull than ordinary when I writt last for as I remember I was sleepy too and not soe much with sitting up late as with rising early wch I have done every since you went either because I am weary of my bed or that tis good to make me leane again ; but know soe little what to doe wth myselfe when I am up that I am fain to send for Jack into my chamber, see him drest there, and when I am weary of playing with him go to work for him, but alasse, he has a greate defecte his coate was made and I had gott him linnen redy to weare with it but Mrs Carter has sent him noe shoes and stockings I believe twas Tom's fault that did not carry her Jane's letter soone enough. You tell mee nothing of my Aunt nor of my cousin Thorolde. I suppose tis that you have not seen any of them yett.

I shall observe your orders tomorrow and write to you againe on Monday tis like to bee a great faire they say something more then ordinary sure it will bee or else Mr, Mayor and his Brethren would mere have put them- selves to the trouble of comeing all to my Aunt two dayes agon. Do tell her that they would pull downe our friend Mrs Harrisons hedge to make roome for it they threatened her garden too and question her right to the ffishing and the hundred eggs. Mighty hott words past and many more then the buisnesse was worth I thought but that the gravity of Mr. Mayor's ruffe bore it out soe well would I could borrow it to sent with this letter for tis as little to the purpose mee thinks as all that hee sayed, see what you get by putting mee upon long letters if you confesse it you are glad with all your heart to finde yourselfe soe near the end on't. Good night to you my dearest. — I am, your, D. Temple.

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 29

Though she would have rather died than have called him home unless she was convinced that he would lose nothing in coming, Dorothy's patience had been severely strained, and her courage was low when she wrote this letter ; the dulness and solitude were doing their work, and little Jack, sweet baby that he was, was no substitute for her husband's sympathetic presence. Dorothy at no period of her life had any predilection for vegetating, though she was sometimes obliged to do so ; her active mind made her desire to **live" every moment of her existence, and in after years when Sir William Temple was eager to retire from the world and **chew the cud" of a well-stored mind, nothing but the shrinking of a broken heart could have made her willingly seek such banishment as that of Moor Park. Yet Dorothy was no mon- daine ; the rush and excitement of noise and crowds gave her little pleasure; it was the "give-and-take" between friends, the chance meeting of kindred spirits, and the pleasant interchange of thoughts and ideas that made the joy of her life. She was fully alive to her own powers of intellect and charm (how could it be otherwise with the long procession of lovers that came and went at Chicksands during her girlhood to make her aware of them !), and she would not have been human if, in the lonely hours at Sheen when the ** Creeper" was slumbering in his cot, she had not felt herself wasted there. But changes were in the air, and she soon had the opportunity of shining in a more congenial society than London afforded in the Merry Monarch's reign.

"Cousin Thorolde" was a widow lady and an occasional visitor to Chicksands in days gone by.

30 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

There is a mention of her in one of Dorothy's letters to Temple in 1653 ; apparently her conversation was not of a wildly exciting type, nor her company indis- pensable, neither was she a friend to Temple's suit.

" My Brother is gone to wait upon the Widow, she that was born to parsecute you and I, I think. She has so tired me being here two or three days that I do not think I shall accept of the offer she makes me of living with her in case my Father dies before I have disposed of myself. Yet we are great friends," she continues with that irrepressible touch of satire that her sense of humour never could resist, ** and for my comfort she says she will come again at the latter end of June and stay longer with me."

Mrs. Carter's identity must remain shrouded in mystery ; whether she is the laundress or the hosier, or a personal friend, there is nothing to prove, and it is moreover very immaterial. One thing only we know, that she omitted to send the dear little ** Creeper " (probably his first) shoes and stockings.

Mrs. Fountain, whose hood *' Tom " is to remem- ber, might be equally a friend or dependant. The Temples of a later generation were intimate with the Fountaines of Narford, and she may well have been one of that family.

" Tom " was Temple's valet or manservant.

LETTER III

My dearest Heart, — After all Mr. Mayor's prepara- tions 'twas a very poore faire, not a good horse in't besydes Sawyers Teame in wch was the mare hee told you of and he brought her down to the stable to match

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 31

her with, my aunts and she doe very well together hee says but I did not see it for though I sent twenty messen- gers to him Sadler would not come neer mee all the faire day but sent mee word at night what hee had don wch was that on Satturday next heer would come two mares for you to see. Today I sent for him again and hee tells mee the mares are both Sawyers, both 4 years old and full as large as my aunts' and the same couler and will both come to about £30y one of them hee has bin offered ^16 for and hee takes her to be better than my Aunts and if you like them you may hav them if not thers noe harm don, hee is not fond of selling them ; I have seen the young fellow hee looks plain and honest will under- take he sayes to look to your 4 horses very well and with as much care as any man. Sadler commends him mightily hee drove his Brother's coach the Gloucester road a great while, he asks ;£i2 a year and cannott take under hee says. Hee had as much at Sadler's Brother and has as good as £16 where he now is. Sadler and hee goe by together tomorrow, then you may see him and sattisfye yourself but with all this I must tell you too that they say Sadler is generally taken notice on for a Gift he had of lyeinge and therefor what his Mares will come to I cannot tell. Can you tell me when you intend to come home, would you would, I should take it mighty kindly good deare make hast I am as weary as a dog without his Master, your poore Jack is all the entertainment I have hee men's his little duty and grows and thrives every day. When the sun shines his mayde has him abroad to use him to goe to Coly upon a solemn invitation. My deare Hearte bee sure I have a scrip by Tuesday's coach and noe reproaches remember that indeed I don't deserve them I thinke for I am sure I infintely love my dearest dear heart and am his. D. Temple.

We see by this letter that horse - dealing was carried on then much as it is now, and that ail was

32 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

considered " fair in love and war," and if the seller could take in the buyer he was no " knave " but a "fine fellow," and the other was a "fool" in the opinion of every one except the unfortunate dupe.

Dorothy Temple was sharp enough in most things, but she was no match for a horse-dealer, and there is not the shadow of a doubt but that she was " done " over the mares as well as over their groom who looked so "plain and honestly." Mr. Sadler's **gift for lying " evidently had not deserted him, and one does not wonder, after reading the last but one of these letters, that he could not be induced to come near Mrs. Temple all the Fair-day !

LETTER IV

My best dear Heart, — How kindly I take this little scrip you sent mee ; deed my dear you shall never want one as longe as I have fingers to write yet never trust me if I know what to tell thee besydes yt wee are all well heer and were at the fall of the great wall today.

I could have cryed over it mee thoughts it fell soe solemnly and with soe good a grace after it had stood out all their Batterys soe long, and met with the same fate yt all the great things in the world doe when they fall. The People shouted at it and were pleased, ran in to trample out because 'twas down treading where they durst not have sett a foot whilst it was up.

Well the man has a huge Bargain on't there is I am confident five times more free stone in't than anybody could have imagined but all this is nothing to your Mares and truth is my deare I can give you but a slender accounte of them. I hope they are well (and soe forth) but 'tis soe durty I cannot goe down to the stable

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 33

and Tom is resolved I shall see him noe more I think for I have not don it since you went ; today indeed hee took his Phisick and so kept his Chamber but where he bestowed himself all yesterday I know not ; Jane is at an end of all her patience with him too for it seems Robins Mr. seeing his letters open read them and Robin took yt soe ill yt they went together by the ears aboute it and great disorders it has caused, but those are common things. I thought wee should have seen a combatt between my poor Aunt and her grandsonne tonight. They fell out soe terribly at cards and doe you thinke that rude boy should have the confidence to throw up his cards in a snuffe (after he had disputed it with her halfe an houre) and say hee would play noe more because when hee has dealt twice shee told him on't and would have the cards to deal herselfe as 'twas her turn. Ah ! my deare if son Jack should doe such things sure I should make bold to beat him as long as I were able, but poor childe hee looks soe honestly I know hee never will, deed my Hearte 'tis the quietest best little boy yt ever was borne I'm affray'd hee'l make mee grow fond of him doe what I can the only way to keep mee from it is for you to keep at home for when I am here with him now hee is all my entertainment besydes what I finde in thinking of my dearest and wishing him wth his D. Temple.

The foregoing letter may have been good evi- dence years afterwards, in the quarrel between Sir William and Lord Brouncker, over the wall which divided that portion of *' Sheen " which Brouncker had purchased of Lord Bellaysis from the rest of it belonging to Lord Lisle, where the Temples were now living, and which afterwards became by purchase their property.

This house was in an enclosure called Crowne Court. This enclosure contained other houses, two

E

34 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

more of which Sir William afterwards purchased. The Court was surrounded on three sides by high walls, one of which was not considered safe in 1666, and in the words of the legal document prepared for the Temple-Brouncker lawsuit of 1683, **it fayled," and was ** newly raysed" by agreement between Lord Bellaysis and Lord Lisle. On the fourth side, the Court was protected by the river Thames, on the banks of which Sir William made his garden, and where Gerard found the ** wild clery good for weak eyes/' when he was making his '' herbal."

For this beloved ** corner of Sheen" its owner brought over from Holland the best of cherry and orange trees, and several kinds of vines, all of which did well, and their ** descendants," if not some of the original trees, were transplanted to Moor Park in later days.

Evelyn, who visits him in August 1677, in com- pany with Lord Brouncker, whose satirical remarks tinge his criticism, says, speaking of the *' pretty villas" and fine gardens of the enclosure, that in Sir William's garden he saw the best trained fruit-trees he ever beheld, some most excellent peaches, and good pic- tures and statues, ** though not so fine as their owner thinks them."

That it is the fall of this old part of the great wall preparatory to rebuilding it that the writer tells of in her letter, it is plausible to suppose, and her descrip- tion of it is a truly characteristic one.

The fall of a wall, like the fall of a tree, has in it an element of majesty and tragedy. Who can see unmoved a great tree cut through at the foot, poised for one brief moment in mid-air, and then fall with a crash,

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 35

its lesser branches breaking into a thousand pieces ; or watch a great wall lean and sway, lose its balance, and curving over, break with a resounding roar, like a wave of the sea on the rocks? Not Dorothy- Temple! — though she little thought, when she watched it fall with '* so good a grace," with how bad a grace the " new wall," raised out of its ruin, was to be broken into in days to come.

How the spirit of the times spoke to her through the action of the people! The "Usurper" was not long dead, and many of them remembered the joy of mutilating statues, and breaking stained - glass windows. Nor did the other lookers-on forget the crime of 1649 •

The mob, no doubt, was thoroughly enjoying itself (and this time harmlessly enough), while Dorothy read her little parable in their delight at the destruc- tion of property, their eager trampling on the ** fallen great."

The portion of the letters that relate to little John have a sad significance. His mother was afraid to ''grow fond of him," afraid to let the gentle little fellow, who was the ''best little boy that ever she knew," twine himself too closely round her heart- strings, lest he too should be taken away.

Dorothy was teaching herself the stern lesson we all must learn, of the futility of setting up idols ; they are always — or almost always — " broken to our faces," and this idol (if such he was) was to break with a louder crash than all.

36 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER V

My dearest best Heart, — I saw your new man today and heard him to my cost. Ah, 'tis a sad storry my deare but he says your best Mare is good for nothing she has the glanders extrenely and a soare heel wch the farrier says is a surfett she has had wch that nowe breaks out there ; is not Sawyer bound to take her againe yt warranted her sounde to you Sadler that knave knewe what she was before I believe for hee will not come neer mee though I have sent twice for him today I thought fitt to lett you know it before you came downe yt. you might consider what you had to doe, I am affrayde it will disorder us a little ; John found it as soone as ever hee saw her I believe the fellow has good skill in horses he look very honestly too and like to make a good servant I think. I gave Jack the kiss you sent him and he mems little duty and gave mee another for you wch you shall have as soone as you come home and twenty more from Your D. T.

LETTER VI

My dearest Heart, — 'Twas kindly don not to forget my scrips. I wayted for it all day and would not have missed it for two such basketts of grapes as cam wth it though they were excellent good ones. I will bee very carefull of myselfe and my Aunt dos assure mee I cannot misse of a good midwife in the Towne whenever I shall have occasion for her. Your horses shall be looked to too as well as William and I and Jane and Mrs. Gold- smith can doe it, for wee understand it much alike mee thinks. I wish my Aunt's businesse a happy de- spatch, and my dearest home again with his

D. Temple.

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 37

LETTER VII

My dearest Heart, — I send you heer a letter that will amaze you I believe as muche as it did mee, but tis most happy that hee is thus discovered before hee has don a worse mischiefe. Rid your hands of him quickly for God's sake since I knew this I have broken open his boxe but found nothing there but his owne things, his new sute and most of his linnen, unlesse it bee the cape of your plush cloak wch I have sent lest you might want it. Poor Mr. Rolles brought this letter through all the rain to-day. My dear dear heart make haste home, I doe soe want thee that I cannot imagine how I did so endure your being soe long away when your businesse was in hande. — Goodnight my dearest, I am, Yours D. T.

Lady Temple was one of those women, less rare than novelists would have us believe, who are equally attractive to men and women. We know the women- friends of her youth from the frequent mention of them in her letters — Lady Diana Rich, Lady Ruthin, **my pretty niece Dorothy Peyton," &c. &c. Later in life one may mention Lady Sunderland, and Queen Mary, whose marriage she had practically arranged, and who must have hated her so for it! though she loved her dearly before, and ever after. Among her most ardent female adorers was the Welsh poetess, Kate Philips of Porthynon. '* The most ardently admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda," as her editor calls her, whose tragic death from smallpox at the age of thirty-two cut short the career of an unusually brilliant woman, an English '^ bas-bleu'' and one who, if she had had the good fortune to have been born a Frenchwoman, might

38 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

perhaps have shone as a star of the first magnitude among the p7'dcieuses at the Hotel Rambouillet.

Lady Giffard's care has preserved a letter from this lady, written but a month before her death, to Lady (then Mrs.) Temple, whom she beseeches to admit her to a greater familiarity and friendship than she has hitherto enjoyed, and speaking of her intense desire that " Mr. Philips " will take her to London, so that she can enjoy the ** conversation of her friends," and not be left too long to the ** melancholy silence" of the mountains and rivers which surrounded her home in Wales.

" Mrs, Kate Philips letter^ under the name of Orinda^ to Sr, Wm. Temple s LadyJ'

For my highly honour'd Mrs. Temple att her lodgings at Mr. Winns house

neare the horse-shoe in St. Martin's Lane London.

Jan. 22, 1664.

Deare Madam, — You treat me in your letters so much to my advantage and above my merit that 1 am almost affray'd to tell you how exceedingly I am pleased with them lesst you should attribute yt contentment to ye delight I take in being praised whereas I am extreamely deceived if that be ye ground of it, though I confess it is not free from vanity. I cannot choose but be proud of being own'd by soe valuable a person as you are, and one whom all my inclinations carry me to honour and love at a very great rate, and you will find by the trouble I last gave you of this kind how impossible it will be for you to be rid of an importunity which you have much encourag'd and how much your late silence alarm'd one

MRS. KATE PHILIPS' LETTERS 39

yt is so much concern'd for ye honour you doe her in allowing her to hope you will frequently let her know she hath some room in yr particular favour, I hope you have pardon'd me that complaint and allow'd a little jealousy to the great passion I have for you and that I shall with some more assurance come to thank you for this last favour of 12th instant, and must beg you to believe that if my convent were in Cataya and I a recluse by vow to it, yet I should never attain mortifica- tion enough to be able willingly to deny myself the great entertainment of your correspondance, which seems to remove me out of a solitary religious house on ye moun- tains and place me in the most advantageous prospect upon both court and town and give me right to a better place than of either, and that madam is your friendship, which is so great a present, that there is but one way to make it more valuable and yt is by making it less ceremonious and by using me with a freedom that may give me more access into your heart and this beg from you with a great earnestness, and will promise you that whatsoever liberties of that kind you allow me, yt I will never so much abase that goodness as to press mine own advantages further than you shall permit or lessen any of the respect I ow you, by the less formal approaches I desire to make to you who though I esteem above most of ye world yet I love yet more.

I believe ere this you have seen the new Pompey either acted or written and then will repeat your partial- lity to ye others, but I wonder much what preparations for it could prejudice Will Davenant when I hear they acted in English habits and yt so a propos yt Cesar was sent in with a feather and a staff till he was hissed off ye stage and for ye scenes I do not see where they could place any that are very extraordinary but if this play hath not diverted the Citizens wives enough Sr. W. D. will make them amends for they say Harry the 8th and some later ones are little better than puppet plays. I understand

40 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

ye confederate translators are now upon Heraclins and I am contented that Sir Thos. Clarges who hath done that last year, should adorn this triumph in it as I have done in Pompey, for I defy Heraclius ? and all his works, having so unfortunately piqu'd Mr. Waller yt he was pleased to speak of me with as little generosity to ye King as he once did of Sacharissa to ye Parliament and I fear his displeasure is no wit abated since ye King's and Queen's so gracious reception of those verses you mention upon her majesties recovery and though this advantageous opinion might have given me some vanity yet He assure you Madam yours gave me more and though I never writt anything with more distrust of myself yt since you think them worthy of so favourable a mention I will submit my judgement to you and rather think it possible that I might hit something in them ^ot unluckily then that you could be unsincere to one you are pleased so generously to own. You see how much I depend upon what you say and therefore you ought in honour never to use me with compliment.

I am glad of the news of ye Duchesses recovery and the other victory you mention at Court for though it be but changing our pack of cards for another yet time and inconstancy together may at last fix yt passion where it ought to be. I think the conquered rivall has done well in the change of her principles, for I wonder all ladies of her morality are not of a religion which provides them soe many shorter ways to heaven than repentance and when at the wane of their fortune they may retire into a Cloyster and persuade ye worlde yt the shame of their disgrace is only ye devotion of their souls and soe make a virtue of necessity. I am much obliged to anybody for enquiring where I am and indeed if I could give any account of what I doe here I should be better satiffy'd but I am good for nothing everywhere and you will have a hard task to prove there is better company where there is neither ye conversation of towns nor ye innocency of ye fields but

MRS. KATE PHILIPS' LETTERS 41

a certain kind of busy drudgery to ye world of Fashion for that pittiful nothing that men call pre-eminence with the combined incursions of people who can neither speak nor hold their tongue and yet I could endure the sight of all this here rather than be any more embarquee dans une affaire si mechante as ye combatting gyants, and seeing them devour ye reputations of ye innocent, if I did not consider that by coming to the place where these things are I shall be nearer ye conversation of some particular excellent friends (among whom I assure you Mrs. Temple has a most eminent room) which may both improve and delight me and they so much (byass) my inclination that I cannot but wish Mr. Philips his occa- sions may permit him to give me yt opportunity this spring and if they doe you are sure to be tormented with me soe much yt I think you are concerned to wish they may not, but in earnest for aught I perceive, I must never show any face there or among any reasonable people again, for some most dishonest person hath got some collection of my Poems as I heare, and hath deliver'd them to a Printer who I heare is just upon putting them out and this hath soe extreamly disturbed me, both to have my private folly so unhandsomely exposed and ye behef that I believe the most part of ye worlde are apt enough to believe yt I connived at this ugly accident that I have been on ye rack ever since I heard it, though I have written to Col. Jeffries who first sent me word of it to get ye Printer punished, the book called in, and me some way publickly vindicated yet I shall need all my friends to be my champions to ye criticall and mallicious that I am soe innocent of this pittiful design of a knave to get a groat that I never was more vexed at anything and yt I utterly disclaim whatever he hath soe unhand- somely expos'd. I know you have goodness and generosity enough to doe me this right in your company and to give me your opinion too how I may best get this impression suppressed and myself vindicated and therefore I will not

F

42 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

beg your pardon for troubling you with this impertinent story nor for so long an harangue as this, the truth is I would fain by example if I can not by importunity, induce you to yt freedom which is begged of you as soe necessary to ye happinesse of

my D : deare Madam, Your most faithful servant

Orinda. To Mr. Temple my humble service I beg.

It was during this visit, so eagerly anticipated, that she met her death. Cowley, Lord Orrerry, James Tyrrell, and Flaxman perpetuated her memory in mournful verse ; and Sir William Temple, at the desire of his wife and sister, summoned his not always ready muse and composed some lines in her honour.

Some of Mrs. Philips' verses on ** Friendship" are very charming, and appeal to us to-day just as they did to her friends when she wrote them.

Extracts from a Poem on "Friendship."

" Friendship doth carry more than common trust.

And treachery is here the greatest sin. Secrets deposed there none ever must

Presume to open, but who put them in. They that in one chest lay up all their stock Had need be sure that none can pick the lock.

A breast too open Friendship does not love.

For that others' trust will not conceal ; Nor one too much reserved can it approve.

Its own condition this will not reveal. We empty passions for a double end. To be refreshed and guarded by a friend.

Thick waters show us images of things.

Friends are each others' mirrors and should be Clearer than crystal or the mountain springs,

And free from clouds, design or flattery. For vulgar souls no part of friendship share ; Poets and friends are born to what they are."

I

MRS. KATE PHILIPS' LETTERS 43

She is more pleasing when she writes in this simple way than when she plays the laureate, and commemorates historical events or addresses odes to queens and princes, when her pathos is apt to degenerate into bathos.

The following is an extract from the ode to Queen Catherine, on her sickness and recovery in 1662, on the gracious acceptance of which Lady Temple has evidently congratulated her: —

" Some dying Princes have their servants slain That after Death they might not want a train. Such cruelty were here a needless sin, For had our fatal fears prophetic been. Sorrow alone that service would have done And you by nations had been waited on. Your danger was in every village seen. And only yours was quiet and serene. But all our zealous grief had been in vain Had not Great Charles called you back again, Who did your suff rings with such pain discern — He lost three kingdoms once with less concern. La'bring your safety he neglected his Nor feared he death in any shape but this. His genius did the bold distemper tame And his rich tears quench'd the rebellious flame. At once the Thracian Hero lov'd and griev'd Till his lost felicity receiv'd, And with the moving accents of his woe His spouse recovered from the shades below, And to his happy Passion we have been Now twice obliged for so adored a queen. But how severe a choice had you to make When you must Heaven delay or him forsake ! "

All this is very pretty and very flattering, but one cannot help thinking that the dear lady wrote with unintentional irony, and that the fear that "was on every visage seen" was not that the poor little unloved, childless queen should die, but lest she

44 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

should live! and that had she really died, the grief of the nation might not have provided her with such a numberless train of self-immolating followers as the poetess expected. It is not unlikely that when the poor plain face in its bizarre setting of corkscrew curls, pale and thin from recent illness, reappeared at court in cruel contrast to the splendid beauty of la belle Stewart, whose star was then in the ascendant, that *' Great Charles" may have re- gretted the ** richness and quenching " properties of his tears, and could possibly have forgiven his obedient consort if she had chosen the alternative course and hesitated to ''delay Heaven" on his account.

Yet those tears were genuine enough at the moment, we may well believe. They were tears of penitence and remorse, and that pity which the young always feel for the young who are called early out of a world that seems to them so fair ; a sense, too, of scant justice that they should be given so little time to live and laugh and love in. Some- thing of all this was in Charles's heart, perhaps, as he bent over what he believed to be the death-bed of his neglected wife, and conjured her to " live for his sake." Later, when his counsellors urged him to divorce her because she had brought him no heir, the remembrance of that hour possibly kept him firm in the refusal which did him honour, and may be set in the balance against many acts of his care- less, unscrupulous life.

Those honest tears won a faithless Charles many friends ; that one touch of nature set all the poets a-rhyming. Waller's verses are scarcely less extra- vagant than those of the " ingenious " Mrs. Philips ;

DOROTHY TEMPLE'S LETTERS 45

the themes are identical, and the sentiment only dif- ferently set. Waller's, though perhaps less sincere, is the more poetic of the two : —

" He that was never known to mourn So many kingdoms from him torn, His tears reserv'd for you ; more dear. More priz'd than all his kingdoms were ! For when no healing aid prevail'd, When cordials and elixirs fail'd, On your pale cheek he drop't the show'r Reviv'd you like a dying flower."

But to return to Mrs. Philips' letter. The con- valescent duchess was Anne Hyde, wife of the Duke of York, to whom the writer had already addressed a poem.

The victory at court was that of Frances Stewart, the new maid-of-honour, over Lady Castlemaine. The king's charming cousin was as popular at White- hall as the Castlemaines were the contrary, and her advent at this critical moment to draw off the king's already faltering allegiance was welcomed by every- body. Even though it should prove (as it did) only **the changing of one pack of cards for another," it created a diversion in the old, old game, and the lookers-on saw the fickle king, for once caught in his own net, giving gold for silver, and learning with pained surprise that there was one woman at least in the world to whom he was not irresistible, for he failed to awaken in his lovely kinswoman the grande passion her wit and beauty had kindled in him.

It is probable that the dethroned favourite's change of religion was effected for immediate contingencies

46 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

more than with any far-seeing hope of ultimately obtain- ing pardon for her many iniquities at a higher court. The king's secret leaning towards his brother's re- ligion was probably known to her ; and now that all other cords that held him to her were strained almost to snapping-point, she strove to hold him with the strong one of religion, or at least the outward signs of it.

Poets are proverbially thin-skinned, and Waller was sometimes peevish. *'Orinda" was at this time the rage ; her collected poems had been published, as she says, without her knowledge, and Waller, who had but lately returned from France, whither he had fled some few years previously under a cloud, perhaps feared in her a rival in his art, and spoke ungene- rously of her, as, to his eternal shame, he had appa- rently done once before under different circumstances of Lady Sunderland, the heroine of some of his sweetest poems and love-songs.

The occasion of his unheroic conduct was possibly when he was condemned to death in 1643 for plotting against the parliament, and only saved his life by implicating *' several exalted persons and some ladies in the plot!' Lady Sunderland and her husband were true Royalists, and consequently bore no good- will to the " Usurper's" parliament, and it is certainly possible, and even probable, that she may have been among them.

Mrs. Philips' use of the poetical name that Waller had given Lady Sunderland is interesting as showing that she was " Sacharissa" then as now to her friends and admirers.

PART III

1665-1668. Charles II DIPLOMACY

" I know my duty so well as to value all persons, as well as all coins, according to the rate which his Majesty is pleased to put upon them."

— Temple to Arlington.

The awful summer of 1665 found the two ladies

(Lady Temple and Lady Giffard) with the little

*' Creeper" unprotected at Sheen. Temple, who had

been for the past two years attending the court and

enjoying himself in a society in which he was received

with the welcome his introduction from the Duke of

Ormond entitled him to, after refusing an embassy

to Sweden, found himself not very willingly sent

abroad on a secret mission, "■ so secret that they had

to let him go without knowing to what part of the

world he was bound."

The opportunity he had been waiting for had

come. A faithful discharge of his mission was to

be taken as an entrance into his Majesty's service.

It was a thing not to be refused, though the first

threatening of a coming epidemic was in the air,

and Dorothy Temple was far from well. **The hard

condition," wrote Lady Giffard, *' was that he had to

keep it a secret from his family, which he had never

done before." So, for the first time in the annals of

47

48 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

this united trio, no little council of three sat '* in my lady's chamber," to discuss the affairs of State.

Courtenay, Temple's historian, tells the story of how it all came about.

Not long after Charles had very imprudently de- clared war against the Dutch, Chancellor Clarendon was surprised by the request for a private audience by a man who ** looked like a carter and spoke very ill-English." He was, however, an English gentle- man who had become a Benedictine monk, and had been known to Clarendon when he was at Cologne with the king, during his exile. He now brought letters from a little potentate of the Low Countries — the Bishop of Munster — offering, for the payment of a certain sum of money, to enter the United Provinces with an army of 20,000 men.

This Benedictine monk made the fortunes of William Temple.

Clarendon thought the offer ** came from Heaven." The monk was sent back to his master with encourage- ment to send over a properly accredited envoy, and there came a Baron Wredon, **a very proper man and well bred," who persuaded the English ministers that the Bishop could accomplish all he undertook, and that France would do nothing to his prejudice, though the Dutch were the friends of the king (Louis XIV.).

So Lord Arlington, the Secretary of State, made a treaty by which the Bishop, on the receipt of 500,000 rix-dollars, to be paid in three instalments, was to bring up his forces against the Dutch.

It was necessary to keep this a secret, and a person was immediately wanted to superintend the

> > > . >

Lely pinxit

Sir William Temple

DIPLOMACY 49

payment, see that the bishop performed his part of the treaty, and consult with him about the co-opera- tion of the Elector of Brandenberg and the Duke of Neuberg.

Lord Arlington suggested Temple, and accord- ingly, one summer morning at 4 o'clock, the sleeping household at Sheen was aroused by a messenger from London who desired to see Mr. Temple without delay.

On his arrival, in prompt obedience to this summons, the minister put his zeal and friendship to the test by asking him if he could be ready to start in three or four days' time on an unnamed and secret mission.

Temple, after a little consideration, said that since he might not consult anybody else he would ask his (Lord Arlington's) advice, as a friend, and would follow it.

**Then," said Arlington, ''that will be to accept the offer whether you like it or not."

He then explained the object of the mission, paying him the compliment of telling him how per- plexed he had been to think of anybody but himself who was not only capable of the affair, and could be trusted with the money, but who could keep the secret.

Thus was Temple launched into diplomacy ; and in the sweltering dog-days of that pestilential summer he left his family and sailed on his secret mission. He was scarcely gone before the plague burst forth in all its horror. It soon spread to Sheen, and "a, servant dying of it in a house joyning theirs and one being taken ill in their own, they resolved to go

G

50 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to London." London of all places, where the people were dying in their thousands and ten thousands ! But thinking that it could hardly be nearer to them than in their own house, they started away.

Lady Giffard is no embroiderer ; her facts are facts, and she has no great love of detail. She gives us a provokingly meagre account of the dreary journey to London. We can only imagine the panic that must have possessed them, the irresolution, the doubts and fears which must have distracted them till they had made up their minds to fly from contagion, as they thought. One can picture the hasty packing, the quickly harnessed horses, the agitated departure, the hurried directions for the care of the sick servant, and the tedious drive and the arrival in London, the horror, the consternation that grew with every step. *' But they found a dismal scene there, soe many houses shut up with crosses upon the doors, as they passed into the town, the people in them crying and wringing their hands at the windows, the bells all day tolling, the streets almost empty of everything but funerals, that were perpetually passing by, the diffi- culty of finding a lodging from the fright everybody was in of receiving the infection with them, few going thither on any other occasion but flying from it at home, people coming in like Job's messengers all day, with one sad story before another was ended. Yt. after two dayes spent in this dismal place they ventured to go home and trust with God Almighty's blessing what the use of care and cordialls could do to preserve them at home. Above all the great one of resolving whatever happened never to leave one another, and with this and God Almighty's blessing

DIPLOMACY 51

on the family, they recovered ye servant and con- tinued all ye rest of them in perfect health, and though I hope nothing so dreadful will ever again befall my country it may not be thought wholly impertinent to set downe the methods wch. under God I thought they owed their preservation to wch. I think a greate part was a cordiall of Sir Walter Raleigh's found in most Recipe Books a soveraigne [remedy] . . . against the Plague, which they made and gave a spoonful or two of it round the house every morning, burnt Burgamot Spirit, and made as many servants as they could after ye smoke was gone take tobacco for a great part of ye day, strew'd rue in ye windows and held myrrh in their mouths when they came any where that they apprehended infection."

There never was a woman less prone to self-glorifi- cation than Lady Giffard. All through her MSS. she j keeps her own personality in the background ; not with <■ affected or forced humility, or even with an undue amount of that rare virtue, but simply because she is so full of her desire to make others shine that she sinks her own identity, and scarcely remembers her share in any praiseworthy act. Perhaps if Dorothy Temple had written this little story of the plague-scare we should have heard more about Lady Giffard than she told us herself; her **ego" is most provokingly merged in the *' we " and ** they " of the narrative.

The return to Sheen after the fatiguing and useless journey must have been depressing indeed. To re- enter a house in which a plague-stricken servant was fighting for life, and set about systematically to dose and disinfect and use all available and known preventa- tives against contagion, required good heads as well as

52 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

strong faith and brave hearts, and the younger woman, who was left as it were on guard, must have been racked with anxious fears and misgivings. But they all escaped, and before the welcome autumn came a little girl was born. She came as a gift to her father at the reunion of the family at Brussels, and was all her short life the darling of his heart.

Temple performed his mission to the satisfaction of his patron, and paid over the first instalment of money in the short space of three days.

Arlington's letter of acknowledgment was one to be proud of : —

" In a word, the account you give of all committed to your care is entirely approved of ; and I foresee, by this your beginning, that your friends will have little to answer for in your behalf at the end of the negotia- tion if you continue as you have begun."

Pleasant words for a rising diplomatist to read on his first flight, but the compliment was not accompanied by anything more substantial, and he was obliged to apply again and again without success. To add to his difficulty, a ship-load of tin, which was to effect a pay- ment to the bishop, was sunk at sea, and Von Ghalen began to cool, and the Englishman's hope of soon seeing him ** thundering at the gates of Amsterdam " receded into the middle distance.

In the meantime Temple had passed a couple of months in Brussels, a place he was ever after attached to. He had not much faith in the bona fide loss of the tin, and in a letter to Lord Arlington said as much as would have landed him in an action for libel in these days. *' I could not forbear saying, that whoever his Majesty was pleased to charge of this embarkment,

DIPLOMACY 53

were doubtless very honest gentlemen, but if I should serve the King in my station as they have done in theirs, I think I should deserve to be hanged ; but all this is a good lucky hit for the good alderman and me, who, if we had been to cry about our tin here, till we had sold all the quantity entrusted to us, we had certainly been taken for a couple of tinkers ! "

His stay in Brussels suggested to his mind not only the patriotic notion that useful services could be rendered to England by a permanent resident in this neutral town, which acted as a sort of city of refuge for France and Holland (now ready to break into hostilities), but the more personal one of a golden opportunity for himself. His intimate knowledge of both the Spanish and French languages, and a certain English doggedness combined with a good deal of savoir-faire and court polish, eminently fitted him for the post he himself created. With his usual habit of going straight to the point, he wrote the following suggestion in a letter to his chief: —

** I am thinking upon Sir George Downing's de- parture from hence whether it would not be necessary for his Majesty to have a constant resident at that court, having none left in all these countries, and that it would be easy for such a person here to knit and maintain with small intelligences, not only in Holland, but in the armies and courts of the neighbour princes of Germany ; besides a necessity which is like to grow every day, of correspondence with this court itself. If I did not know it becomes me to think his Majesty may find out much fitter persons for this em- ployment, I would make a humble offer of my service in it and undertake to give a good account of it,

54 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

perhaps with little more charge than will be in keeping me hereabout only to attend that single trust which is now left in me, which after the arrival of that despatch I have so long looked for (but yet hear nothing of) will grow to be very small, and I should be ready for that service or any other journey his Majesty's affairs might engage me in."

Arlington took Temple at his word in both his propositions. He soon obtained the king's command to establish his friend in the residency at Brussels, and some months later he engaged him again at a moment's notice, in a journey of importance so vital that he had to travel at the rate of a king's messenger and not that of a dignified plenipotentiary.

All this time the Bishop of Munster was in a quandary ; though he was thirsting to begin his cam- paign against the Dutch, without this substantial financial support he was unable to carry out his plans. The loss of the cargo of tin had been disastrous to him ; he could not get the rest of the promised money from England wherewith to raise and maintain the avenging army, and he was ominously threatened by France. He professed the greatest regard for Temple, and repeatedly declared that ** nothing should force him from his league with his country," and, indeed, in spite of pecuniary delays he kept his faith until France declared war against England, which she did in March 1666, and then he entered into peace negotiations with Holland.

His intention of thus acting independently of England had leaked out, and Temple's hasty journey was if possible to prevent his carrying it out. He was, however, not in time to do so, and having formed

DIPLOMACY 55

a very high and pleasant estimate of the bishops character, was amazed (as he really had no reason to be under the circumstances !) and bitterly disappointed (as was but natural). He wrote in despair to Arling- ton, who sent over some belated monies with instruc- tions to him to meet the bishops and ministers of Brandenberg, and other towns, in conference at Dort- mund, with a view to establishing peace within the circle of Westphalia, and between the Dutch and the bishop, as if the idea had come from England. He was furnished with full powers, and ordered to " get to horse" and go straight to the bishop's court, and ask him to "instruct him what to do!" This was of course a bold trick of diplomacy, and Arlington knew Temple could manage it if any one could. His mode of negotiating had already become characteristic ; he was bidden to **play out this farce" as skilfully as he could, and it was suggested that perhaps '' some of his troublesome insisting upon the punctilios " might be more useful than the ** candour and ingenuity (in- genuousness) in which he so much abounded."

No sooner had Temple started than counter- orders and changes of meeting-places pursued him, and the latest intelligence was that the conference was to be at Cleves. He, however, was then well on his way to Dortmund disguised as a Spanish envoy. He went by Dusseldorf through a savage country, over cruel hills, through thick woods and rapid streams ; he arrived at Dortmund to find the gates shut, and all his eloquence could not get them opened. ** He slept on some straw with his page for a pillow." This does not sound very restful — especially for the page He eventually reached a castle belonging to

56 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the bishop, where he was received with honour, and instructed ** in the most episcopal way of drinking possible " out of a vessel shaped like a bell, of silver- gilt, holding *' two quarts or more " (of what he does not tell — possibly a not too potent beverage !). The general who entertained him took out the clapper, filled the bell, and drank off the contents to the king's health, replaced the clapper and turned down the bell to show it was empty. This ceremony was repeated by all the company ; Temple alone, unaccustomed to such copious draughts, ** drank by proxy."

The next afternoon he arrived within a league of Munster, and was met by the bishop at the head of " a brave army of four thousand men ; a guard of a hundred Hey dukes ran at full speed in front of his coach, which travelled very fast." When the coach came within forty yards of him it stopped, and the bishop and the Prince of Hauberg got out. Temple also alighted, and advanced half-way to meet them. The bishop received him with exaggerated courtesy, insisting on his sitting alone in the seat of honour in the coach, saying, *'he knew what was due to that style from a great King," while he and the prince occupied the opposite seat.

** I was never nice in taking any honour offered in the King's name and so easily took this," says Temple, recounting his adventures in a letter to Arlington, "but from it and a reception so extraordinary, began to make an ill presage of my business and to think of the Spanish proverb, ' Quien te hace mas corte que no suelen hacer ote ha d'engammer, ote ha menester ' (* Whoever pays you more court than he is wont to pay, either means to deceive you or has aeecj of you ')."

DIPLOMACY 57

The bishop's conduct soon proved that Temple's suspicions were well founded. He conducted his intended dupe with all honour to Munster, and would have left him to repose without touching upon the business that brought him there ; but Temple was a match for him, and made him sit down and enter into the affair without ceremony. He admitted that necessity compelled him to order a conference at Cleves, but he offered to stop the proceedings and send a messenger to England for directions. Temple treated all these fables with indifference, and had no sooner bowed out the priestly warrior than the dis- quieting news arrived privately that the treaty of peace was already signed without any reference to England.

Temple, however, had no choice but to attend the mighty feast prepared in his honour, which lasted for hours, and at which he '* drank fair with the rest " — not two quarts at a time, it is to be hoped ! Next day the bishop confessed that the treaty had gone further than he intended, and endeavoured to propitiate the indignant minister with personal favours. Temple, however, refused all " until I should know whether the King of England would consider the Bishop a friend or enemy," and seeing through his Grace's little play of detaining him until another instalment of the subsidy should arrive, he pretended to acquiesce in the arrangement for another con- ference next day ; but in order to defeat the scheme for obtaining the money, ''though suffering a little from his departure from his usual temperance," he started on horseback at daybreak instead of going to rest, and rode hard to a frontier village eight miles

58 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

off. There he hired a room and pretended to go to bed, but took fresh horses at the back door of the inn " while the rest of the company thought him a-bed," and rode through the wildest unfrequented ways till eight at night. He was now quite spent and ready to fall from his horse. He lay on the ground while his escort tried to get him a lodging in some peasant's cottage, but without success, and after refreshing himself with a little juniper water (a kind of gin), the only thing they could get, he rode on another three leagues, and arriving at mid- night somewhere in the Neuberg district, he lay once more on a bed of straw till break of day ; then off again, reaching Dusseldorf at noon, where he went to bed for an hour.

He was now past trusting himself on horseback, and the Duke of Neuberg sent him in his coach to Brussels, where the last straw was awaiting his already overburdened back ! He had the mortification of hear- ing that his ''wise secretary," as he sarcastically dubs his subordinate, had allowed the Munster agent to take out the bills of exchange for the bishop, and there was a train of endless difficulties laid for him to avoid the payment. ** And if I succeed not in this part of the affair," wrote the poor man to his patron, ** I lose the fruits of the hardest journey, upon my return, which I believe any man has made these seven years as I have lost them already, of more care and thought and bent of soul than I am sure anything in this world is worth, unless " (he amends with more tact than truth) " it be the service of such a master as his Majesty."

The court at home, though surprised at the

DIPLOMACY 59

bishop's breach of engagement, was not moved to the indignation Temple himself could not but feel, and attached now very little importance to it, and Arling- ton assured Temple that **his Majesty was entirely satisfied '' with his proceedings, and that whatever mortification his disappointment may have given him he was not to believe that any of it was imputed to him or to his want of good conduct and zealous affection to his Majesty's service.

It is only fair to record that the bishop originally meant well and was not altogether a fraud, for after the breach of the alliance, hearing that the French Government was trying to purchase the services of the Munster troops, Temple successfully urged on him the ingratitude of thus transferring to England's enemy troops raised with English money, and sug- gested that Spain should be allowed to enlist them.

So ended Temple's first piece of diplomacy, a failure that was almost a success, for it showed of what stuff he was made, and he now found himself established as the representative of England at the vice-regal court of Brussels. *' His functions," says Mr. Courtenay, *' were chiefly those of observation and report."

It was while Temple was on his wild cross-country ride to Munster that his wife and sister, little Jack, and baby Nan arrived at Ostend, disappointed we may be sure at his not being there to meet them, but enjoying the anticipation of more successes as much as he did. It was not long before he returned, how- ever, to be loved for the ** perils he had passed," and commiserated for his hardships, and they all spent "a very happy year" together in this charming town

6o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

with its delightful diplomatic circle of Spaniards, French, Austrians and English.

Lady Giffard and Lady Temple must have been in their element. They made many friends — the D'Isolas, D'Estrades, Del Roderigo, and De Marsins. These last were Lady Giffard's special friends ; forty years later she corresponded constantly with Madame de Marsin. There is quite a thick packet of that lady's letters, but containing so little of interest, and written in such a commonplace, conventional style that they would interest no one if printed here ; and there are two from monsieur her husband, telling of her illness and her death in Paris some years later.

Castel del Roderigo was the Spanish minister, D'Estrade the French, and D'Isola the Austrian.

To Brussels also came the poor little fourteen- year-old widow of Lord Ogle, afterwards Duchess of Somerset, with her grandmother the Countess of Northumberland, and there was formed that friendship with the Temples which ended only with her's and Lady Giffard's lives.

This happy year came all too soon to an end. Another baby boy was born to Dorothy, but it pro- bably went the way of the five babes in Ireland, for there is no other mention of it in any memoirs and letters I have seen.

To attempt even the most elementary explanation of the embroMillement of Europe at this time, is quite outside the limits of this volume ; but Mr. Courtenay, whose conscientious and comprehensive life of Sir William Temple has been altogether too long dis- regarded, has said in a few words all that need be said on the subject here. '* The position of Spain

.■"•.!'

Sir Peter Lely pinxit

Lady Temple

DIPLOMACY 6 1

and England in reference to Holland (with whom we were at war) and France, tended naturally to an alliance between the former states. France, though not yet a principal party in the war, was allied with the Dutch, and had protected them against our ally, the Bishop of Munster."

Spain was neutral in the existing war between England and the Dutch, and the duty of the resident was to watch over this neutrality and cultivate a good understanding with the Spanish Government, with a view particularly to the negotiations then in progress under the auspices of Sir Richard Fanshawe, the British minister, whom Sir William Godolphin was on the point of relieving, and Lord Sandwich, who was sent on an extraordinary mission to negotiate a treaty ; it was part of Temple's duty to facilitate the conclusion of it.

The next move in the game was the overtures for peace made by the Dutch to England, with the proviso that Charles should not put forward his nephew, the young Prince of Orange.

Temple, who was not at first taken into full con- fidence in this matter, was sceptical about the wisdom of accepting it. " I confess," he said, writing many years later, ** I think nothing can make a war good, or a peace ill, but its growing too necessary, and did not more dread the first when we began it than I now do the last unless it be in some way victorious."

This sentiment probably emanated from the curi- ous difference of opinion between the Dutch and English residents in Brussels as to which gained the victory after the great four-day fight between Albe- marle and De Ruyter, on which occasion Temple was instructed to say *' that he thought the Dutch exceeded

62 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

us in the trophies which they bore away, but the loss which we inflicted on them by destruction and confla- gration was greater than that which we suffered at their hands."

Apparently the honours were so even that Brussels, being a neutral place, allowed the victory to be decided by the vox populi. The Dutchman announced his in- tention of celebrating the victory by a display of fire- works. Temple was *' beforehand with him," but " rejoiced with moderation," declaring that he would 'Meave something to be done upon an entire victory." He ventured, however, upon the greater popularity of the English cause to drink '* to the health of the conquerors." This diplomatic toast met with rounds of applause, both in house and street.

The Dutch, however, after some delay made a huge and lofty bonfire ; but the townspeople " wondered that these fellows should make bonfires when they were beaten," and one of them kicked over a tar barrel. This was resented by a swordsman in the resident's house, and a general fray took place, which ended in little more serious than the quenching of the fire and shouts of ''Vive le roi d'Angleterre ! Vive I'Espagne et I'Angleterre ! "

As Temple's historian truly says, **he had no part either in dividing or directing the fleet," and the question of victory needs not to be settled here ; but a conversation between the Comte de Guiche (so well known to English readers through Alexandre Dumas' novels) and the English diplomatist plainly shows how nearly the victory was being decided — not for us, but against us — had it not been for a timely fog which came to our rescue.

DIPLOMACY 63

" He gave us," writes Temple from Brussels, to Lord Arlington on August 31st, 1666, **a very fair account of the first engagement, and did our nation so much right as to say he observed ' moins de re- lachement ' among us in the worst of our game than among the Dutch in the best of theirs. He admired our discipline and the general's (Monck, Duke of Albemarle) carriage in the course of this battle, as well as the constancy of our men, but added withal that we had the worst of the fight, and if the mist had not fallen, the Dutch had given us chase ; upon which I asked him what the Dutch did the night after the fight.

"He answered directly that they sailed home as fast as they could.

" I asked whether they carried their lanterns. He confessed their admiral did not ; and what the rest did he could not tell. I asked if ours did so. He said he knew not, for he went to sleep as soon as the fight was ended ; but," added Temple (who certainly knew less about it than the count, who had behaved with much gallantry during the fight), " I assured him they ^ad, and said no more ! "

One thing was certain — it was the Dutch fleet that hurried away in the fog, and the English that remained, and (if we may credit Temple's statement) with their lanterns burning.

But it was neither this dubious victory nor a more decided one which followed it in August, that decided the success of the campaign, which was unquestionably ours, and which, to quote the words of D'Estrade, made us rulers of the sea —

" La victoire des Anglais paroit en ce qu ils sont maitres de la men"

64 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

In his present position Temple had great oppor- tunities, and he fully justified Arlington's predictions, (though he had the faults of an imaginative and sensitive nature added to a somewhat captious tem- per. But his intelligence being, as it was, of a very- high order, and with a touch of philosophy that he had perhaps learnt from his wife, he soon made himself heard in the counsels of nations ; in fact, as the French say, he had "arrived." His new post was no sinecure. Charles began to wish for a peace with Holland. Holland was equally anxious for it, but the difficulty was how to set about it. Temple saw that Spain and Portugal, who were still at war, must be forced to make up their quarrel if Spain was to be free to help us in the Low Countries ; yet, as he quaintly put it, *' Peace, like all other fruit, will never keep if it be gathered too soon, and when 'tis ripe 'twill fall off of itself." Yet something had to be done, and Temple could not divest himself of the idea that De Witt, the Grand Pensionary of Holland, was the inveterate and unchanged enemy of England. But time showed that he was wrong. Whatever his object may have been at the moment, De Witt was more than half inclined to make friends, and with the idea of fostering this spirit Arlington decided to make use of Temple's literary talents.

** I have promised his Majesty," he wrote, *' to charge you with the writing of a small paper, and publishing it in French, that may pleasantly and pertinently awaken the good Patriots in Holland, not only to thoughts and wishes of Peace, but to a reasonable application for it, assuring them that his Majesty continues to wish it, and would gladly receive

DIPLOMACY 65

any overtures for it from the States, here in his own Kingdom, not expecting less from them in this kind than they did to the Usurper Cromwell."

This was to be written in the form of a " pretended letter " from some merchant to another in Amsterdam, or any other form he liked best. Arlington thought it would operate well in Holland, and be worthy of Temple's pen, *' which I know has sufficiency for a much greater."

The pamphlet was speedily written and published, and soon '*ran in some vogue" at Antwerp, and peace appeared upon the horizon ; but Temple now began to grow quite bloodthirsty, and to change his opinion about *'good peace and ill war." He conceived a pretty plan of embarking France and Spain in a quarrel " beyond retreat," while England was to mystify France by concealing her intentions and leaving it quite uncertain whether she was going to assist Spain, or leave her to her own devices ; then, having involved several other countries and states in the general muddle, and effectually misled the field, she was to come in triumphant at the death and share the spoils with victorious Spain !

The Dutch, however, objected to sending am- bassadors of peace to Charles as they had done to Cromwell in 1654; and England, to Temple's alarm and dismay, suddenly offered to despatch delegates to the Hague herself.

This was a complete volte-face, and the only good point about it was that it equally alarmed the French king.

Temple's national dignity was disturbed. He thought this move was derogatory to England, and

I

66 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

would appear to the world that she was unduly anxious for peace. A compromise was therefore arranged for, and the proceedings were settled to take place at Breda.

Thoroughly bewildered by such a sudden change of tactics, Temple begged leave to go to Breda, and promised himself to elucidate the mystery if he could. The permission was granted, but he was commanded to take no part in the proceedings except as the ambassadors (Lords Coventry and Hollis) should direct. The negotiations nearly failed at the last through the long-standing dispute about the Island of Poleron, which caused the French to jeer at the English for risking "the loss of the dinner for the sake of the mustard."

But on July 1667 peace was finally concluded between England and France and Holland and Den- mark respectively, and France was free to turn her full attention to the Spanish Netherlands.

Town after town went down before the invincible Turenne, and Brussels itself was threatened. Temple did not think, with two armies almost at the gates, that his wife and young children were safe there, and sent them home to England, having some time pre- viously had the forethought to procure a passport from the English ambassador in Paris, Lord St. Albans, and permission for her and her children, servants, and baggage to cross by Calais.

The decision must have been a welcome one to Lady Temple, for she was no lover of the sea, having had too much experience in her youth of rough passages to the Channel Isles, and having sailed too often among those dangerous rocks that guard the

DIPLOMACY 67

fortresses and port of St. Malo not to know and appreciate the dangers and discomforts of the deep. ** I pity your sister in earnest," she wrote to Temple in the days of their courtship when he was escorting Lady Giffard, then a girl of fifteen, over to Ireland ; **a sea voyage is welcome to no lady, but you are beaten to it, and 'twill become you now you are a conductor to show your valour and keep your company in heart."

This was in March 1654, at the end of which year William and Dorothy were married. Another message reached William's sister a few days later from her future sister-in-law : "In earnest I have pitied your sister extremely, and easily apprehend how troublesome this voyage must needs be to her by knowing what others have been to me. Yet pray assure her I would not scruple at undertaking it my- self to gain such an acquaintance, and would go much further than where (I hope) she now is to serve her. I am afraid she will not think me a fit person to choose for a friend that cannot agree with my own Brother, but I trust you to tell my story for me and will hope for a better character from you than he gives me." Cannot one realise how proud and pleased the little girl was to receive these charming messages from an older one, and how Dorothy's pretty ways of turning things and unfailing tact laid the foundation of that sisterly affection which held them together all through the rest of their lives !

A few tempestuous voyages between Harwich and the Hague had probably not converted her to sea- faring ways, and the sympathy she accorded to the traveller fourteen years before was forthcoming again, we may be certain, with compound interest.

68 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Temple was very anxious to accompany his wife to England, but his government would not hear of it, and on his request for orders as to what he was to do in case of a siege, was told to stick close to the Marquis del Roderigo.

It seems odd that a town that was dangerous for Lady Temple should be safe for Lady Giffard. But perhaps it was anxiety for the children that hurried her away, and Lady Giffard having no such ties, was the best one to remain, for the ladies would have been very unhappy to have both deserted Temple.

Still puzzled to understand Charles's new tactics with France, Temple began to study seriously the policy of the Dutch governor or Grand Pensioner, John de Witt, and in order to make his acquaintance (with the excuse that Lady Giffard had a great desire to see Holland), the brother and sister started on a tour in that country. They travelled incognito, with only Lady Giffard's woman, a valet, and a page out of livery, and visited Amsterdam and the Hague. It was all new to Lady Giffard, and she enjoyed it all ** mightily, being specially pleased with the India houses."

Temple himself was disappointed at finding the country so little altered from what it was when he was there some years before. He found ''nothing new " at Amsterdam but the Stadthaus, '* which put him in mind of what Cavaliero Bernini said of the Louvre when he was sent to take a view of it, that it was * una granpiccola cosa ' " ; and what pleased him most on his tour was the freedom with which all men spoke of public affairs, in their own state and their neighbours', in boats, and inns, and other public places,

DIPLOMACY 69

which enabled him (being incognito) to learn a great deal about the feeling of the people he otherwise would have had no chance of knowing. It is possible that when he went back the next year as ambassador, there were some who recognised with dismay the affable gentleman to whom they had talked so garrulously !

Like all other travellers, Sir William and his sister were very much impressed with the super- cleanliness of the Dutch, a habit which Sir William accounts for, almost apologetically, by supposing that it is the ** perpetual dampness of their houses from the water all around them " that necessitates what evidently appeared to him the superfluous cleansing of their apartments and everything they use or touch, which, *'but for the constant rubbing and scouring, would breed sundry fevers and disorders which their efforts are able to avert."

On arriving at the Hague, Temple, still preserving his incognito, called on De Witt with his sister, and during the interview they divulged their identity, and were received with all honour by the hospitable Dutch- man, who. Sir William must have been relieved to learn, had just despatched two ambassadors to London. They spoke with frankness of the late war, and, as far as the two men were concerned, for ever buried the hatchet. They discovered a mutual antipathy to Sir George Downing, the late resident, who, accord- ing to the Grand Pensionary, ** exasperated into a national quarrel what might have been settled as between private persons." This was a ready-made bond of sympathy between them, and an acquaintance begun so auspiciously could not fail to last. The intimacy only ended with De Witt's death.

70 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

October saw them back in Brussels, and Temple became very home-sick, and did everything he could, short of asking for leave, to get to England. At this time he was keeping up a warm correspondence with Lord Lisle, the eldest of Lord Leicester's sons, and his own boy-friend. He begged him to sound the depths of the waters round the court at Whitehall, which were always at ebb and flow. Lord Lisle's answer was dispiriting. He surmised that Temple might not find success among the courtiers there, and advised him to '* keep his Residency as long as he could."

Lady Giffard's movements were controlled by her brother's, and she too remained on at Brussels.

** The best on't is," Sir William wrote in his answer to Lord Lisle's candid advice, **that my heart is so set on my little corner of Sheene that while I keep that, no other disappointment will be very sensible to me ; and because my wife tells me she is so bold as to enter into talk of enlarging our dominions there, I am trying how a succession of cherries may be compassed from May till Michaelmas, and how the richness of the Sheene vines may be improved by half-a-dozen different sorts which are not yet known there, and which I think much beyond many that are.

" I should be glad to come and plant them myself this next season, but I know not yet how these thoughts will fit."

Late in the autumn he received the king's com- mand to return to England privately. Lady Giffard accompanied him.

Great changes had passed over London since

DIPLOMACY 71

Temple had left England just a year and a half ago. The plague had swept through the city, and the great fire was beginning to be talked of as a story, like the burning of Troy. Sir Christopher Wren was busy with compasses and rule, drawing plans and building up churches and houses. The old picturesque if insanitary order of dwellings was passing away, and a strong, massive, unlovely masonry rearing its walls slowly and steadily in its stead. Temple himself, too, was changed. He had gone away a young, untried gallant ; he had come back a successful, honoured diplomat ; but there was one thing that was not changed — the love between his Dorothy and himself.

We must imagine the happy meeting, earlier than his family could have hoped, with his wife and Jack and *' Nan," and all the tales he had to hear and tell, for Lady Giffard has not chronicled the meeting. Soon he was back in London, where many of the mysteries that preceded the Peace of Breda were revealed, and he learned how the Chancellor's (Clarendon) fall had come about ; how the ridicule of Buckingham and Shaftesbury had helped it almost as much as his political differences with the king. He heard of all the various causes that led to the capitulation of Arlington and the sudden and unaccountable weak- ness of the English. He learned how vital had been the necessity for the Peace of Breda, and how fatal it would have been to have "spoilt that dinner for the sake of the mustard ! "

He was scarcely allowed time to look around him before he was sent on another mission — this time to the Hague, where he was to make that important

72 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

treaty known to history as the "Triple Alliance" between England, Holland, and Sweden, a defensive league and a treaty of mediation between France and Spain. The following January saw him preparing to start. In spite of the dangers and hardships of the crossing in the winter (possibly because of them), his wife and sister were unwilling to let him go alone, and Lady Giffard resolved to accompany him.

With his accustomed appreciation of any service rendered him, an endearing trait in his character which was perhaps one of the secrets of his success, Sir William writes to his father : —

*'The season of the year is bad and the weather ill, and yet my sister is soe kinde as to come hither (London) with me from Brussels, and to return with me at this short warning to the Hague, which will be a great ease to me as well as satisfaction, and by relieving me from all domestic care, will leave me the more liberty to do my business, which I foresee will be enough to take up a better head than mine.

** My wife and children stay here till I see whither my wandering planet is like to fix, but my brother Harry resolves to be of the party and take this occa- sion of seeing Holland and what is likely to pass in the world at this juncture."

It was ** brother Harry " who brought the Triple Alliance document to England some months later.

On this occasion they travelled in the royal yacht — in some luxury, perhaps, but not in comfort, for they were exposed to a most awful and alarming storm. So violent was the wind and so high the seas that for thirty hours seamen and passengers alike gave themselves up for lost, as indeed they probably must

DIPLOMACY 73

have been had they not had the good fortune to fall in with a pilot from the Dutch coast, on to which they were driven. Lady Giffard relates this episode in her MS., and Temple mentioned it in his dispatch to the king. With what a fever of anxiety must Lady Temple have watched for the '* Duch letters " to arrive !

The making of the treaty is a matter of history. Every schoolboy can give one the date — January 23rd, 1668 — but only the students of the Temple dispatches know the difficulties and discussions and the alter- ations in the draft that were necessary, and the energy and determination of the Englishman to rouse the phlegmatic Dutchman and Swede into prompt action. *' I foresaw," he said, "that many things might arise in ten days' time to break all our good intentions," so he hurried matters forward and carried all before him. On Friday he received the last instructions from the king and made his last conditions. At eleven o'clock on Monday morning the treaty was formally executed between the three ministers — Temple, Dhona, and De Witt.

*' After sealing," wrote Sir William, " we all em- braced with much kindness, and applause on my saying on that occasion, *a Breda comme amis, ici comme freres,' and De Witt made me an obliging com- pliment of having the honour that never any other Minister had before me, of drawing the States to a conclusion in five days ! "

The news of the accomplishment of the Triple Alliance was received in London with great demon- strations of joy, and it was equally popular at the Hague. Sir William Temple was the hero of the

74 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

hour. Congratulations and expressions of admiration were showered on him from all sides, and it was pro- bably owing to his own sensitive pride and absence of any vulgar **push" that he received from his royal master no adequate honours nor remuneration. He. himself wrote of this treaty as a ** nine days wonder," but it still ranks in history as one of the greatest of diplomatic achievements, and should have won at least a peerage for its maker.

The treaty-makers, having done their work to their satisfaction, proceeded to play, and M . de Witt gave a party to meet the Prince of Orange. '' We are all to play the young men, and be as merry as cards, eating, and dancing can make us, for I do not think drinking will have any great share," wrote this veteran of thirty-eight, at the end of an important dispatch to Arlington.

** History," Mr. Courtenay says, "has conde- scended to notice this entertainment, but it is silent as to the part Temple bore in it. We know not whether his neglected abilities were revived at the card-table or at supper, but in the dance he was out- done. The Grand Pensionary himself, five years older than Temple and Dutchman as he was, is recorded as "dancing the best in the room." We are not told whether the masterly performance was a cavalier seitl, or if Temple, Dhona and De Witt celebrated their Triple Alliance in a pas de trois, for these festive gatherings at the Hague were seldom enlivened by the presence of ladies.

For the honour of England it is hoped that Sir William beat him in a tennis match he was engaged to play with him next morning.

DIPLOMACY 75

While her brother was being feted and made much of, Lady Giffard can certainly not have been left out in the cold ; and in the absence of any account of her doings, we may safely conjecture that she came in for a fair share of ** compliments and attentions." They left the Hague in March, and returned to Brussels to make arrangements for Temple's going as England's representative to the Congress of Aix. Arlington appointed him ambassador, and paid him the compli- ment of sending no instructions.

*' I do not yet foresee," he wrote, ** the necessity of adding an instruction, but follow the rule of Solomon, ' send a wise man upon an errand and say nothing to him.' " This confidence was acceptable to Temple, but the further expression of his Majesty's trust was less so. »

*' We should send you money to gild this char- acter, but I hope your own credit will suffice you for the present, as your own talent will supply you with instructions."

Poor Temple had more talent than wealth, and he could have spared his "credit" for a little gold. It is quite pathetic to see how aghast he was at the empty splendour of his exalted position.

** I have received your Lordship's of the i6th and 19th (Mar.)," he wrote; "the first accompanied with the powers under the great seal, and the other under the signet, which will serve to fill my head and empty my purse ; what other effects they will have upon the business and me I cannot tell. I am not yet very fond, that I can find, of entering upon my new honours."

He was quite alarmed at the prospect of being the only ambassador, feeling sure he would commit some

76 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

solecism, and he pleaded hard that unless the French and Dutch representatives were to hold that rank, he might doff that terrifying dignity for the lesser one of envoy-extraordinary.

'' In this," he assured Arlington, " I am pretty con- fident to acquit myself well enough both in these and other circumstances, whereas the other is a thing I know nothing of and enough to make a poor man's head turn round, that was always brought up in the shade and silence until your Lordship brought me out on the stage."

Arlington met his wishes by sending him the lesser powers he asked for, and thus spared him further terrible anxieties as to what he should ''give the envoys," and whether he ''should return visits to the Pope's nuncio," and other points of etiquette ; and, accompanied by Lord Strafford, he started on the 24th of April for Aix.

Though he left Brussels by a private way, he found the road as he neared the town of Hessel crowded with people, who entertained him in the highway with a speech and a banquet, "and all the great guns of the town at once." Other towns vied with Hessel, and the volleys of shot fired in his honour would have been salute enough for all the ambassadors in Christendom.

Difficulties met him at the Congress which pos- sibly made him wish himself in the high and mighty position after all. M. Colbert, the French minister, and Bevering, the Dutch, were quite anxious to conclude the business, but Baron Berjeyck, Castel Roderigo's envoy, made tiresome and trifling excuses for delay — possibly taking a leaf out of Temple's own

DIPLOMACY 77

book, and practising on him "the troublesome in- sistence on punctilio and precedence " Lord Arlington had so commended in a previous business — while to add to his troubles Sir William found himself stretched on a bed of sickness, the premonition perhaps of the suffering from gout and "spleen" that darkened his later life.

What the Pope had to do with this treaty of peacemaking on the part of England and Holland between France and Spain is not clear, but he seems to have acted as a sort of nominal mediator, and his nuncio had to be considered. The process of getting all the signatures was a great worry. Colbert, a brother of the great minister of Louis XIV., signed his name with such an arrogant scrawl that there was no room for the Spanish envoy's signature. The baron claimed the right to sign on the same line, and the Frenchman maintained he had not the equal right because he was not an ambassador. Temple had much ado to keep the peace, and it re- quired all his tact to calm this " storm in a teacup."

" I was weary of all their comings and goings with messages over perplexing trifles," wrote the sick English envoy, in a humorous account of the pro- ceedings to Arlington, who, as always, gave him due credit for his part. "Now I can give you the ' parabien ' of this great work which you may with- out vanity call your own," he wrote, "and it is with more satisfaction considering what escapes you made between the Marquis's resolutions, the Baron de Berjeyck's punctilios, and M. Colbert's 'emporte- ment.' God be thanked the great business and you are so well delivered from these accidents ! "

78 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

The Peace of Aix was published at Brussels on the 30th of May 1668 (N.S.), and the safety of Flemish towns secured. It was received with little demonstration but much real satisfaction and thank- fulness to England for bringing it about, ** for they realised that with two armies at their gates it was no longer the time to be brave."

Temple returned to Brussels as soon as he was well enough to travel, thinking to spend some time there, but troubled what to do with his ** Excellency^' for, "considering how ill my time and how well my money has passed with it hitherto," he grumbled, ** I doubt nobody will be persuaded to take it off my hands."

But this was what he was not allowed to do. He was bidden to " keep himself in the same figure and equipage, the better to wear the character of his Majesty's Ambassador at the Hague." He was, however, allowed to return to England before enter- ing into his new duties.

During the Aix proceedings Lady Giffard re- mained at Brussels, where she studied Spanish with the assistance of an old archer of the King's Guards. A dictated letter from him has been preserved in Sir William Temple's handwriting, thanking his pupil for the gift of a silver sword-hilt she has sent him. It is accompanied by the following translation into English by Lady Giffard herself — endorsed **Lady Giffard's translation of Portella's letter " — and has been printed in an edition of Temple's works pub- lished in 1 8 14. The editor imagines the letter to have been written by Sir William in jest. This I think is erroneous ; soldiers in those days were seldom

DIPLOMACY 79

scholars, and the courtly old archer may have been perfectly well able to instruct his pupil viva voce, and yet not capable of penning an epistle worthy of acceptance by his ''enchantress"; and what more likely than that he should take advantage of Sir William's knowledge of his tongue, to depute him to write a note at his dictation and in his name. The sonorous Spanish sentences have suffered in trans- lation, but the sentiments are so un-English as to dispose of the somewhat unaccountable suggestion that it was anything but what it purported to be, a letter of thanks written from dictation ; if it were otherwise it would scarcely have been so carefully translated and preserved.

From Antwerpe^ Mar. ye 30^/j, 1667.

Madame, — I have received with much transport and sence of my obligations to y' Ladyship the Hilt of a sword that you did me ye favour to send me, & which was much endeared to me by the assurance y® Resident y"^ Brother gave me, that you did not expect I should as I am us'd to doe,, melt my selfe into thanks & tears with sence of your kindness ; but that you would thinke your- selfe very well pay'd with recieving a letter from me in Spanish, being as easy to me to write ill as it is to your Ladyship to do well. But can it be true that writing a letter in Spanish should acquit me of soe great a debt, that shall not be wanting though I went to fetch it in Gallego : But pray Madame tell me if I am to beleeve you a Saint or an enchantresse, for this I am very sure off that you have done a Miracle & made a deeper wound in my heart with a silver Hilt of a Sword, than the Bravest Cavalier could have done with a Blade from Toledo ; but you will tell me that we live in an age that is not new

8o LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

to the miracles done with silver & that greater things are now brought to pass with that than with valor and steel in past ages, your Ladyship is in ye right, & soe shall not make Reliques of your Garments for this Miracle but don't know whether they will escape when I have told you that since I touch'd this enchanted Hilt I find my gray hairs dropping off, the blood in my veins growing warme, that from an old man of seventy I am a youth of fiveteen, & love that has been so long banished re- turning in triumph to serve upon this miserable heart & break it in pieces the first moment. Wretch that I am, condemn'd to travel our again those rough and uneven paths of blind & ingovernable youth, how can one life suffice to be twice a Martyr in ; is it possible that I must once more feel ye heat of that scorching love, & that out of theese cold ashes should kindle a violent flame, that I am again to be blasted with sighs and drown'd in tears and feel such torments & disquiets as onely leave me alive that I may dye every day, oh lady of my soul how have you indone me with doeing me good, and how many real and cruel smilles must now curb me ye jest of being in love with you when I was old. But a little hope will relieve the greatest sufferings of love, & flatter my selfe that so accomplished a person must be as reasonable, and that haveing faveur'd me so much as you have done when I was old, I may hope for your pitty at heart now I am young, handsome, and in love, but if my passion flatters and my hopes decieves me as they are us'd to do, I have yet this consolation that having bin made young in an instant by your faveurs when I was old, your cruelty may as soon & as easily make me old now I am young, & then I shall make as great a jest of your charmes as you have done of my passion.

May your Ladyship live many years, be in love as I am at seventy and then not forget

her most humble servant and lover

Gabriel Portella.

PART IV

1666-1669. Charles II

LETTERS FROM LADY SUNDERLAND (" SACHARISSA ") AND WILLIAM GODOLPHIN

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS

" It is of the greatest importance to write letters well, as this is a talent which unavoidably occurs every day of one's life as well in business as in pleasure ; and inaccuracies in orthography or in style are never pardoned but in ladies." — Lord Chesterfields Letters.

Next in chronological order come three letters from William Godolphin (afterwards Sir William), one of three Cornish brothers, gentlemen of good and ancient family, and gay young sparks about the court at the time the first letter was written. Sydney, as Groom of the Chamber to King Charles, was writing verses to the actress Moll Davis ; Henry was designed for the Church, and became later, Canon of St. Paul's ; and William, like Temple, was at that time unemployed.

The date of this letter Is not to be discovered, but it was obviously written the day after his first meeting with Lady Giffard and her brother, and the inference therefore is that this was shortly after their first appearance in London early in 1664. It is addressed

" To Mr, Temple or my Lady Giffard y^

and was, I imagine, intended more for the lady than the gentleman, whose name was superscribed to save

S' L

82 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the proprieties at such a short acquaintance ! Temple had not then arrived at a position in Hfe when such fulsome flattery could be addressed to him in any anticipation of favours to come. Such over-blown flowers of speech were, it is far more likely, intended to ingratiate the writer with the lady, and she cannot be accused of undue vanity if she laid the flattering unction to her soul !

The Dean of Christchurch, too, one is tempted to suspect, was only a convenient lay-figure, and knew no more of his own overpowering desire to make Mr. Temple's acquaintance than did that gentle- man himself, being perhaps equally guiltless of any grasping design of reaping undeservedly *'one of the greatest rewards of the world." But whether or no, that day began a sentimental friendship which seems to warrant the suggestion that he was the *' G. O. " of Lady Chesterfield's letters, and the gentleman to whom report said Lady Giffard was "being to be married."

LETTER I ^

For Mr, Temple or my Lady Giffard.

Whitehall, between ii & 12 Saturday.

The Dean of Christchurch is now with mee & hath engaged mee at 3 of the clock this afternoon to show him wher hee may doe his duty to you, with Submission to y' greater designes ; But I could not bee so wanting to his great virtue & worth as not to doe this endeavour towards the giving him one of the best rewards of this world, & to put it in y' power at least to make him as happy as all those who have ye hon' of your acquaintance.

I sayd yesterday hee was the man of ye world into whose Being I would have been glad to transfer my own

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 83

(if it were possible in Natur). But that was before I had ye advantage of him in knowing you, which I esteem so material a part of my life as I should with much more difficulty return to what I was before that time than go into the meanest thing that enjoyed that privilege.

The letter is endorsed in Lady Giffard's writing : " W"- Godolphin's letter."

After all this one cannot but hope that Lady Giffard (if not her brother) was ready at ** three of the clock" to smile on the virtuous dean, and com- plete her evident conquest of Godolphin, and so dissuade him from migrating rashly into any of the lower animals.

In January 1666 came another letter from Godol- phin. The intimacy had far advanced since the introduction of the dean, and that it was not a ** single swallow," but one of a series of epistles (only two of which Lady Giffard has preserved), is seen by his acknowledgment of one from her that he feels so incapable of thanking her for, that he throws the herculean task back upon herself.

But there is a note of deeper feeling underlying the florid flattery of this effusion, which is almost — but not quite — a love-letter. It is the letter of a man who knows how far he may go, and whose position is clearly defined ; he is something more than a friend, but not an accepted lover ; possibly not because of his own want of merit, but because Lady Giffard meant to remain a widow.

LETTER II

Oxford, ya««a!ry 2*jth.

I give your Lady^ ten thousand thanks for y® song you did mee ye hon' to send me which (I see) whether

84 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

you repeat or write hath an extraordinary power over my mind. It pleaseth his Ma^*^ to send mee upon y^ Decks of another World and into another sett of storms than those of Love, not so pleasant nor yet so troublesome, but I shall not dare to engage in so long a journey without sacrificing first at your Altar at Sheene and imploring your good wishes which are to conduct & reward mee, & if y' Ladys^ will prepare any commands for me to that part of y® world whither I am going I shall esteem y"* ye noblest part of my reward & value myselfe by noe rule so much as your Ladys^' good opinion which I have been always too ambitious of. Y' LadysP' humble servant,

W. GODOLPHIN.

It would have been difificult to have ascertained the exact date of this letter, or to have determined as to the " decks " of what particular world he was being banished, but for the following extract from a letter from Temple, now at Brussels, speaking of the sacrificial visit to Sheen and the ** idle business of accounts " (which must have been a signal service to him), and "welcoming him to Spain," which was a country he had travelled in himself. This proves that Godolphin's letter was written on the eve of his departure as English ambassador to the court of

Philip in.

In Swift's "Life of Sir William Temple" occurs the letter alluded to : —

To Mr, Godolphin,

Brussels, April i, vis. 1666.

Sir, — Among my few debts I could not have imagined myself likely to have any in Spain, till my late intelligence

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 85

from England, and observation of the winds persuaded me to it, as my good conscience does, to endeavour at the satisfaction of them before it be called for.

After I have welcomed you into the climate with the same cheare and kindness that the sun I know will do, you must receive my acknowledgment of two letters I had from you before you left English ground ; but withal some reproach that you could mingle the expression of your kindness with that idle business of accompts in which you are too just, as those you had to deal with were too merciful, at least much more so than I expected.

Your letter from Sheen was more obliging in making me believe you met anything in that corner, you could be entertained or pleased with, but if it were so I fear you had your revenge, for my wife tells me to my face, in her letter upon that occasion, that she shall love you while she lives for the kindness of that visit. What effect this might have upon an absent man in Spanish air, I know not, but from this more temperate climate I will assure you that I am content to share with you the kindness of my best friends, which is all the quarrel I will raise at this distance upon this occasion. . . .

In this letter we have a touch of the pleasant humour so characteristic of his wife's letters, which Sir William must have been so well able to appre- ciate and respond to. Lady Temple's expressions of regard for Godolphin were no mere words, for she carried on a correspondence with him during his Spanish embassy, and always held him in the highest esteem ; and it is plain that if Lady Giffard was cruel, Mrs. Temple was kind. The request to pay a good- bye visit to Sheen was granted, and one more letter reached Lady Giffard before Godolphin sailed for Spain.

86 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

LETTER III

If you knew how much I was revived at the sight of the letter you did me y® hon' to send to mee (who delight so much at every body's good) would doe y^ office which I find so hard of thanking yourselfe ; & y® satesfaction of making one so happy as I think myself in your favour would be a greater reward to your mind y° all my life can pay you.

I never believed myself happier in any conversation y** I have done in yours, and since I find that it is possible for mee to maintain it at this distance I hope I shall never be deprived of so great a benefit to y® end of my life.

I am very unworthy of y® least thanks from you for anything I can ever be able to do in this world but I am ashamed to receive any for any service & have wished myselfe capable of sending to Mr. Temple whose person I love so entirely & to whose Virtue I have devoted myselfe & can never doe myselfe more honour than by esteeming him & cherishing my friendship with him, which is one of the greatest blessings Heaven hath bestowed upon me. I shall entertain you at that time with more of his affaers resolving to kisse your handes at Sheen within a week before I goe upon y® wide sea which shall carry me to no quarter of the world wher my chiefest divertisement will not bee y® contemplation of those friends that I have chosen out from y® rest of mankind. — I am, Madam, Y' most humble & most obedient Servant,

W. GODOLPHIN.

This visit, if not unmixed with the sadness of farewell, was also not devoid of ** agreeableness."

It was Godolphin's pleasing task to tell the ladies that the honour of a baronetcy had been conferred on Temple by the king, in order to give him sufficient rank to hold the newly invented post of British

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 87

resident at Brussels, and as a reward for his zeal and diplomacy in the mission to the belligerent Bishop of Munster, which failed through no fault of his.

This appointment and the necessary funds con- stituted the ''affaers" that the king's messenger pro- posed to entertain them with, and one can imagine from what an elaborate network of metaphor and hyperbole the recipients had to pick out the infor- mation, and in what flowery phrase Godolphin told his news at Sheen.

Lord Arlington made the announcement in a plain and simple manner.

*' Mr. Godolphin," he wrote to Temple, '* will tell you of the warrent his Majesty has signed for you without your leave or recommendation, and I hope your philosophy will enable you to be content to rise by these slow steps to greater Honours, as your good parts and zeal in his Majesty's service do qualify you to deserve them."

Temple made haste to deserve them in a practical way by sending his Majesty a little douceur in the form of a Holbein (a possession that is of infinitely more value to its present possessor, whoever he may be, than it was to King Charles !), which he presented in these words : —

Brussels, June 26, 1666.

I shall therefore leave this subject (that of the Baronetcy) to beg your Majesty's pardon for my pre- sumption in sending over a picture of Holpeyn's which was esteemed by my Lord Arundel one of the best of that hand in his collection. M. Ognate has consented to lay it at your Majesty's feet where I lay myself with the most passionate wishes for your Majesty's health and Glory

88 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

and with the most humble sincere devotion that can ever enter into the heart of — Sir, your Majesty's most obedient and most loyal subject and servant, W*^- Temple.

Temple, writing to Godolphin again in March 1668, mentions that he **has received lately the favour of some lines from you in a letter of my wife's," but no more letters from him to her are to be found among Lady Giffard's correspondence, and one can only wonder if he tried his luck during that farewell visit to Sheen and failed. Certain it is that he never married, and spent most of his life in Spain, where he died in the Roman faith in July 1696, leaving estates in England, Spain, Venice, Rome, and Amsterdam. In his last days the poor man seems to have been left much at the mercy of strangers, and the Duke of Manchester, then in Godolphin's old post of ambas- sador at Madrid, wrote a pitiable account of the way in which he was harried over money. "On the 30th of March, being bedrid, he was surrounded by priests and Jesuits urging him to make a will for the benefit of his soul," which apparently entailed cutting out all his own relations and leaving his fortune as they dictated, with a legacy to each of them for masses for his soul. The ambassador, however, went to his rescue, and two months later he made another will in favour of his own relations and some well-chosen charities. Before leaving England he had made a testament that might serve excellently well for the model of a modern will. He left funds to provide for the education and maintenance of poor scholars, for the relief of decayed virtuous gentlewomen, the redemp- tion of prisoners, and the placing out of poor children

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 89

in trades ; and as he then made his brother Francis a trustee for these charitable bequests, one has every reason to believe that they were carried out to the benefit of all concerned.

The lines addressed by Sydney Godolphin to Miss Davis are in manuscript among the Temple papers. They are of no particular merit, and only interesting because of the greatness the writer after- wards attained, rising rapidly from his position of Groom of the Chamber to be a Privy Councillor and then Lord High Treasurer of England in Charles's reign, and Lord High Treasurer of Britain in Queen Anne's time. He, too, was a friend of Lady Giffard's, and after many years proved it by rendering a signal service to a kinsman of hers.

Sydney Godolphin's Verses to Mrs. Davis.

** Chloris it is not thy disdajne Can ever cover with dispayre Nor in cold ashes hide that care Which I have fed with so long paine. I may perhaps mine eyes refraine And fruitless words no more impart But yet still serue, yet serue thee in my hearte.

What though I spend my hapless dayes

In finding Entertainments out.

Careless of what I go about Or seeke my peace in skilful wayes, Applying to my Eyes new rayes Of Beauty and another flame Unto my Hearte ; my Hearte is still y® same.

'Tis true, that I could love no face Inhabitted by cold disdain Taking delight in others paine. Thy looks are full of native grace Since then by chance scorn hath her place, 'Tis to be hoped I may in time remove This scorn one day, one day, by endlesse Love."

M

90 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

Sydney afterwards became the husband of Queen Katherine's charming maid of honour, Margaret Blague, whose death at the birth of her child threw such a deep and unwonted gloom over the court.

The friendship that existed between this beloved lady and John Evelyn was one of those ideal ones that Lady Giffard dreamt of, but like everything of the best and most beautiful in this world it was ** too fair to last." He tells the whole sad story of her death in his diary — how her husband sent for him and his wife when they were in church one sultry Septem- ber day of that " excessive hot autumn" of 1679, and they promptly "tooke boate for Whitehall," to find her at the point of death ; and how her husband, being too broken down by her loss to do his part, had fallen down as one dead, and Evelyn himself had the melan- choly privilege of closing the eyes of the beloved lady, and ''dropping" a tear on the cheek of the "deare departed friend, lovely even in death " ; and how find- ing among her papers, which he and her husband sorted together, a desire to be buried in the ** dormi- torie " of the Godolphin family, they carried her in a hearse and six horses, attended by about thirty of the relations, to Godolphin in Cornwall, and there laid her in the parish church by the side of bygone genera- tions of this ancient family. " So died she in the 26th year of her age, to the inexpressible affliction of her deare husband and all her relations, but of none in this world more than myselfe, who lost the most excellent and estimable friend that ever lived."

Henrietta Blague flashed into notice in the char- acter of ** Diana " in a magnificent gown covered with stars and diamonds, and danced with the young Duke

SIR WILLIAM GODOLPHIN'S LETTERS 91

of Monmouth in a ballet written for the Ladies Mary and Anne of York on their first appearance at court, by Crowne.

The piece was called " Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph." The Lady Mary took the part of the heroine ; the Lady Anne was Nyphe; Sarah Jennings, Mercury; and Lady Harriet Wentworth, Jupiter. A fateful hour it was that brought this little group of dancers to- gether in their harmless frolic. All were handsome, young, and happy ; yet Tragedy, standing for the time aside, held a bitter cup for all but one — Sarah Jen- nings alone of the gay party lived long and prosper- ously, and throve as her sort proverbially do. Of Mary the queen and Anne the queen little need be said. Mary, only a year later, was hurriedly married, in spite of her tears and protests, to her cousin, William of Orange, while the handsome and poetical Mulgrave held her heart. Anne was to live a moderately long life of constant recurring loss and worry.

Harriet Wentworth was to '*dree her weird," as wife all but in name to Monmouth, for love of whom she sacrificed her family, her honour, and her liberty, living a life of strict seclusion, only visited occasion- ally by him, and after his death staying on at Nettle- stead in Suffolk, and expiating her sins in a solitary life of devotion to charity and religion.

Monmouth was to fall from the highest pinnacle of royal favour to being a suppliant for his life, and to die at last a not ignoble death on the scaffold, seeking in vain with a generous and mistaken sophistry to reinstate in the eyes of the world the woman who had so deeply loved him, and whose reputation he had so fatally injured.

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Only the fierce Sarah was to outlive them all, and to rule with the coarse tyranny, that only the vulgar can exercise, the mild and gentle Anne, who in an unlucky hour had chosen her for her Woman of the Bedchamber.

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS

" Whate'er men do or say, or think or dream, Our motley paper seizes for its theme." — " P."

The name of ** Sacharissa" (Lady Sunderland) is so well known, and the story of her life already so delightfully and exhaustively treated by her bio- grapher, Mrs. Ady, that it would be superfluous to do more than remind our readers that she was a Sidney. The glamour that hangs round the very name of Sidney is familiar to us all — every child knows the story of Sir Philip and the glass of water, but he always wants it told to him again ; every one knows Waller's exquisite " Song of the Rose," and ** Lines on a Girdle," of which Dorothy Sidney was the theme. Every cultured American who comes to London makes a pilgrimage to Penshurst, and knows better than many of her compatriots her portrait which hangs in a gallery there. It shows us the face of a laughing girl in a shepherdess's dress. There are several portraits of her in different *' stately homes of England," but the Vandyke which hangs in the beauty-room at Petworth is the one best known to us, it having been more often engraved. It repre- sents her at three-quarter length in profile, dressed in a white, low-cut gown, and rich full sleeves of old- gold satin which harmonise exquisitely with the ruddier tones of her hair, dressed in the Henrietta- Maria

Sir Peter Lely pinxit

: ' f t

c c r^ lJ>'K*.c "• ?

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 93

style — those curls in which Waller says **a thousand cupids dwell."

It is the face of a brilliant ** woman of fashion," expressing all the pride of birth, the high courage and dignity one would expect to find in one of her race. There is power in the grey-blue eyes, and a suggestion of good humour and mirth in the slight fulness of the lips and chin ; not a face to suit present-day taste perhaps, more striking than beauti- ful, but undoubtedly that of a quite extraordinarily charming woman, in whom " wit and discretion," as Dorothy Osborne tells us, " were reconciled in her person that have soe seldom been persuaded to meet in anybody else."

**Go, lovely rose!" sang her faithful, life-long adorer Waller —

" Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be."

And again —

" Ye lofty Beeches tell this matchless Dame That if together ye fed all one flame. It could not equalise the hundredth part Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart."

There is an early miniature, too, at Ham House of the young Lady Dorothy in a blue gown with a white rose in her hair, painted before the first tragedy of her life had clouded it, and before perhaps her greatest happiness had dawned, while she was still a girl in her father's house. She had married the gallant Robert Spencer, afterwards Earl of Sunder- land, who was killed on Newbury battlefield in the ** charge of the Cavaliers." The manner of his death,

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as told by Lloyd, the historian of the civil wars, is so grand that its memory should be kept green.

** Foremost in that brilliant company which charged with a kind of contempt and wonderful boldness upon their foes rode my Lord Sunderland, distinguished among so many brave men by his heroic bearing. Again and again he returned to the attack " (against the serried ranks of trained pikemen) *' with a valour that made even his enemies wonder, till, as he was in the act of gathering up his reins to charge again, a bullet from a trooper's musket struck him. . . . Calmly and nobly he met his end, and those about him were surprised to see him die with so few re- grets ; he lived for some time after receiving the fatal wound, and" (finishes the narrator) *'his holy thoughts went as harbingers to Heaven, whereoff he had a glimpse before he died."

Born and bred among such traditions of noble deeds, the Sidneys could not but rise above the sordid motives and actions of many of their contem- poraries, and Lady Sunderland was in every sense a great lady. Sir William Temple was one of her boy admirers, and Dorothy Osborne rallies him about her not unfrequently in her letters, telling him when she sends him her own portrait not to ** let it disturb that of my Lady Sunderland which hangs in your closet." Perhaps her ladyship's superior age robbed his affection of anything likely to arouse his mis- tress's jealousy, for when she wrote these words she was twenty-six. Lady Sunderland thirty-six, and Temple twenty-five.

Lady Giffard, we know, was many years younger than either of the three, and was only a few months

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 95

old when Dorothy Sidney married Lord Spencer. The year Martha Temple was married and widowed, Lady Sunderland's son came of age. Some ten years before (nine years after the Earl of Sunderland's death) she had married Mr. Smythe (afterwards Sir Robert) of Boundes in Kent ; doubtless she was a widow for the second time when she wrote her letters to Lady Giffard, but she always retained her title of Countess of Sunderland. Her kaleidoscopic letters are refreshing even after this lapse of time, and one can imagine with what delight Lady Giffard received them, bearing as they did the tidings of the things about which she and Sir William must have been longing to hear.

Unlike most people of that date, Lady Sunderland wasted no time in preamble, but dashed fearlessly into her subject, dismissing it with a few sentences, and ] flying off again in her breezy fashion to another, • telling as much in two pages of her beautiful, even handwriting as others did in four ; and that not only because she lived in the forefront of the best society in England, and kept her eyes very wide open, but because she wrote fearlessly and spon- taneously, and obviously without any desire to pose I as a ** polite letter writer," but only anxious to tell her friends what she thought would most interest them. One misses the note of sentiment, and the quaint philosophy of some contemporary writing, such as Lady Temple's and Lady Russell's ; but if Lady Sunderland's letters are fuller of facts than of fancies, | they are none the less valuable for that.

Carefully folded and endorsed by Lady Giffard's hand, these letters lie before us. Time has faded the

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** sable flood in which she stained the silver of her pen " to so faint a tint that the strongest light is required to read them, though every word is as clear as print. They are signed with the letters ** D. S." interlaced in a monogram — a signature that never changed with her changing fortunes, and stood equally for Dorothy Sidney, Dorothy Spencer, Dorothy Sun- derland, and Dorothy Smythe. They are innocent of date, as one has learnt to expect. Hitherto only twenty-four of her letters have been known to the world, but since these have lain by unnoticed all these years, who knows how many more may be still hidden in the drawers and cabinets of the descendants of her correspondents ?

Thirteen of the published letters are written to her favourite brother, Henry Sidney, and the rest to her son-in-law and friend, Henry Savill, Lord Halifax, and are in the collection of the Duke of Devonshire. Ninety years ago they were published by Lord John Russell, bound up with his life of Lord and Lady Russell, and in 1893 they were reprinted in Mrs. Henry Ady's book ** Sacharissa."

The correspondence with Lady Giffard is of an earlier date by some ten or eleven years ; the letters are undated, but they date themselves by the histori- cal events mentioned in them, and were written in 1668-69.

Lady Sunderland's second marriage provoked a great deal of criticism, and probably was something more than a nine days' wonder in her world. Dorothy Osborne, who apparently only knew her very slightly at the time of writing, was very much upset at it, and commented on her ladyship's affairs in several of her

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 97

letters to Sir William Temple. She was curiously irritable at the marriage. '* Who would ever have dreamt he (Mr. Smith) should have had my Lady Sunderland, though he be a very fine gentleman and does more than deserve her. I think I shall never forgive her one thing she said of him, which was that she married him out of pity ; it is the pitifullest saying that ever I heard, and made him so contemptible that I should not have married him for that reason." Most women will share Dorothy's disapproval, but perhaps it would be only fair on Lady Sunderland to take the writer's remarks with the proverbial, and ever excellent, grain of salt !

In a letter written a little later she says : " At this present we so abound with stories of my Lady Sunderland and Mr. Smith ; with what reverence he approaches her, and how like a gracious Princess she receives him, that they say 'tis worth going twenty miles to see it. All our ladies are mightily pleased with the example, and I'll undertake Sir Solomon Justinian wishes her in the Indies lest she should pervert his wife ! "

In yet another letter more gossip on the subject is detailed. '* I have heard," she says, ** that they are very happy, but withal that she is a very extra- ordinary person, and aims at doing extraordinary things." (So people sought after notoriety even in those days ! — though one is not inclined to believe that a lady made so celebrated by the greatest poet of the day had any need to seek it, and one may well believe with the *' bold " minority that she did it because she loved him.) Her marriage was strictly private, as became her widowhood, and took place in

N

98 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

the chapel at Penshurst. Her father, Lord Leicester's brief entry in his diary has been mentioned by several modern writers: "Thursday, July 8, 1652. My daughter Spencer was married to Sir Robert Smith at Penshurst, my wife being present with my daughters Strangford and Lucy Pelham, Algernon and Robert Sidney, &c., but I was in London."

His lordship would appear to have shorn his daughter of her title to adorn her husband with it, for she was undoubtedly Lady Sunderland, while he was plain " Squire Smith " at that time, though according to the old qualification for knighthood he probably had every right to the honourable prefix. Some years later he succeeded his father in the baronetcy, but Sacharissa preferred being Lady Sunderland to Lady Smythe, and still retained her first husband's name.

LETTER I

If Madam you dislike my payment of two letters for one acuse yourselfe for beginning with one, and this Towne for your being ill entertained, for if that would punishe me I would write it, at least all I could get brought to me, for tho' I am not sicke I have bine little abroade to helpe me. Your sister will now bee satisfied her intelligence was true, concerning my Lady Harvie, for I suppose she knowes that she has not bine at Court since the King's seeing that she tooke to herselfe repre- sented affter she had made so publicke a complaint of it and now she expects some favourable expressions from his Ma.*'® to encourage her coming againe, but yet that is not obtained though it has bine much endeavoured, but the King being a very civill person, and she having a mind to be sattisfied the busynesse will probablye be don. Tis a dangerous thinge I finde for Ladyes to brage

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS 99

of power in State affaires and I am confident it has caused that to be don that would not have bine to any other gentlewoman. Her brother is extremely concerned in her disgrace wh. has bine nowe a greate while to satisfy those who did not wishe her in favour. I believe nobody is unwillinge she should showe herselfe in the Drawing- roome, the Queene has taken no notice of this businesse except very privately. She received the Portugall envoy very coldly that brought the news of the young Princes yet she says now the Pope has confirmed the marriage she has nothing to say. She has danced country dances two or three times of late but not the King at all. The Duchess of Richmond looks very well but it dos noe wonders except my Lord of Brisstol's (Bristors ?) fitts of the Mother wch. he has very often and weepes after them licke a woman. I thinke there is noe Premier Minister here nor any greate favorite, those who have had most have soe still. What will be don with my Ld. of Ormond is not knowne to the Vulgar but guess he will goe out more than who shall come in. The Duchesse is as well as is possible and has as fine a childe as ever was seene. I should with greate pleasure send the newes of the Queene's being towards her condition. Mr. Montague goes presently my Ld. Harry Howard will goe noe further than Tangiers till he knowes if . . . will receive him well, My Lady Devonshire was used wth such great respect that day she cristened the Duke's childe that it will make her live a yeare the longer, she did not stirre a step but w*^ the two greatest men w*^ white staffes to leade her. The Kinge opened the dore for her to shorten her way to the Queene w*^ whome she satt downe. Some would have cryed down my Lord Newport at his first coming for .his Livinge, but that is soe good it canot be, there is none in the Court is better. The Duke of Bucking- hame has sett up a table three dayes in a week that is very fine and great, and he says shall be very constant

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and orderly, if here is not toe much of this strife I am mistaken, w^^ you shall never be Madam in thinking me your Lyships affectionate and very faithful Servant. I present my services to yr. Brother and Sister.

** Your sister (Lady Temple) will now bee satisfied her intelligence was true concerning my Lady Harvie," &c. &c. So writes Lady Sunderland. Pepys' version fills up the gaps for us and gives us the story in full, to which our correspondent only alludes en passant. Writing on the 15th January 1668, he says : "To Sir W. Coventry, where with him a good while in his chamber talking of the great factions at Court this day, even to the engaging of great persons and differ- ences, and making the King cheap and ridiculous. It is about my Lady Harvie s being offended at Doll Common's acting of Sempronia to imitate her for wh. she got my Lord Chamberlain her kinsman to im- prison Doll, upon which my Lady Castlemaine make the King to release her and to order her to act it again worse than ever, the other day when the King was there himself, and since it was acted again and my Lady Harvie provided people to hiss her and fling oranges at her, but it seems the heat is come to a great height and real troubles at Court about it."

It really seems incredible that Charles should have been so weak as to listen to Lady Castlemaine's spiteful suggestion, or that he should have been so discourteous as to countenance the vulgar insult, and equally in- credible that a lady of Lady Harvie's position could stoop to so vulgar a retaliation. But it must be con- ceded that she had ample provocation.

The name of ** Sempronia" had long stood for

LADY SUNDERLAND'S LETTERS loi

a consequential female politician ; ever since Ben J onsen's clever play first appeared on the stage in 1611, at His Majesty's (James L) Theatre.

Report said that Lady Harvie had laid herself open to a similar rebuke besides her other indiscretion. In her case the actress was Mrs. Cory, popularly known as ** Doll Common," on account of her success in that part in another play, ''The Alchemist."

The play in question was " Catiline's Conspiracy," and the particular scene which gave such offence to Lady Harvie was the second in the play.

Some student better versed in the history of the Restoration may find other heads on which the caps of Catiline's conspirators may have fitted, and made the play the ''mirth compelling" comedy it evidently was in this eighth year of Charles's reign.

There had been too much feminine influence brought to bear on him of late, and Charles was tired of it. He had already told Lady Castlemaine she "was a jade, and meddled with matters that did not concern her," and smarting under the reprimand which gave her enemies (who were not a few) the opportunity of scoffing at her, she planned this mean revenge on a lady of character and position ; for Lady Harvie, who was the wife of Sir Daniel Harvie, an ex-ambassador, was a woman of some mark, and (for all the ridicule cast on her) a personage — a force to be counted with. St. Evremond describes her as being "gifted with wit," and having "a genius for the most refined politics " (qualities she certainly did not exhibit on this occasion !). He tells us too that " she had a great hand in several changes of the Ministry " at this moment. Of course changes of the

102 LADY GIFFARD'S CORRESPONDENCE

utmost importance were being made, as we know, and the poor lady had been putting her dainty finger into the political pie, no doubt, and had drawn out not a plum but a stone.

Once, when on a visit to Paris, she had become acquainted with Monsieur de la Fontaine, who dedi- cated one of his fables to her, saying that it was she who had suggested it to him.

The verses are couched in the usual "gallant" style, and leave a very good impression of her : —

" A Madame Harvie.

" Le bon coeur chez vous est le compagnon du bon sens, Avec cent qualites trop longues h deduire, Une noblesse d'ame, un talent k conduire,

Et les affaires est les gens.

Une humeur franche, et libre ; le don d'etre aime, Malgre Jupiter, et les temps orageux. Tout cela merite un eloge

II en eut ete moins selon votre genie

La Pompe vous deplait I'Eloge vous ennuie."

In later years Garth called the Duchess of Marl- borough '* Sempronia." Protesting against her abuse of power and domineering conduct towards the queen's uncle. Lord Rochester, he wrote —

" I foresee his fate, To be supplanted by Sempronia's hate, Sempronia of a false procuring race. The Senate's grievance, and the Court's disgrace."

Mr. Montague, who **goes presently," is Ralph, a younger brother of Catherine's first Master of the Horse, Edward Montague, a gallant young fellow who, report said, raised his eyes too boldly to the queen. As *' one man may steal a horse while another mayn't look over the wall," so poor Catherine, who had to suffer such a woman as Lady Castlemaine in close

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attendance on her, and see her royal husband playing the cavaliere seruante to the abandoned women of his court, was not even allowed the solace of the respectful regard and thoughtful care of one loyal gentleman ! Pepys, who disliked him, said *' his Pride was his undoing," and *' affecting to be so great with the Queen, and having more care of her than any- body else." M. de Cominges, the French ambassador, said **he was as well made, and as witty as any gentleman in England," and thought none the worse of him for the gallant homage he rendered the queen. It cost him his life, however ; for, banished from the court, he joined the Fleet, and was killed in a sea fight off Bergen. One more grief for the lonely little queen.

By the urgent recommendation of the Duke of York this brother Ralph, of whom Lady Sunderland speaks, was given Edward's place, but he only held it a short time, and it was to Paris as our ambassador he was going ** presently," which meant **at once."

The Duchess of Richmond was the king's cousin, Frances Stewart — ** La belle Stuart " — already men- tioned (see p. 44). Her beautiful face and figure is familiar to us all on the back of our penny pieces, for Philip Rotier, the royal medallist, being employed on designs for a copper coinage, took her for his ideal of Britannia.

Pepys saw her in Catherine's train on that memor- able and happy day when the king rode " hand in hand with the Queen before all the Ladies and gallants of the court," while '*my Lady Castlemaine, with a yellow plume in her hat, looking mighty out of humour, rode unattended behind with the other ladies." He

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(Pepys) " followed them up to Whitehall and into the queen s presence, where all the ladies walked and talked, and fiddling with their hats and changing and trying them on each other's heads, the finest sight " — to him — '* considering their great beauties and dress " ; but the best of all was '' Mrs. Stuart in her riding dress with her hat cocked, and a red plume, and her sweet eyes, little Roman nose, and excellent tailleT He thought her the greatest beauty he had ever seen in his life, and he was so astute as to ** verily believe " (what Lady Castlemaine had already learnt) that she was cause of the king's coldness to her.

Charles's affection for his beautiful cousin was of a higher quality than that with which he ** honoured " many others. She was a born coquette, and gossip was soon busy with her name, but she did not allow herself to forget the queen, and the charming story of her '* rapprochement " with Catherine is told by Miss Strickland ; it shows the good heart of the beautiful maid-of-honour who might have been another ** Anne Boleyn."

When she learnt how much in earnest the king was in his devotion to her, even to the point of allowing his ministers to discuss the advisability of procuring a divorce so that he might marry her, she realised the pain she had necessarily caused the queen, and professed herself ready to marry any honourable gentleman who possessed an income of ^1500 a year, and thus put an end to the other disgraceful project. The king was naturally furious at this unexpected move, but Frances threw her- self at the feet of the queen, and with tears of penitence implored her to forgive her past folly and

LADY Sl^NDERLAND'S LETTERS 105

thoughtlessness in exposing her Majesty to so much uneasiness and indignity ; and implored her protection in the future.

Catherine, who was clever enough to detect the true from the false, and amiable enough to refrain from reproving her, comforted her with assurances of forgiveness, and permitted her to be constantly in her presence.

In the meantime the courtiers, willing as they well might be to wed with the loveliest and most charming girl at Whitehall, held aloof from entering into rivalry with the king, till at length her cousin, the Duke of Richmond and Lennox, was brave enough to come forward as a candidate for her hand. His suit was sternly refused by Charles, who forbade either party to think of such presumption, for he had no mind to see the then reigning queen of his heart the bride of another man.

Frances, however, was sincere in her desire to stand no longer between husband and wife, and, aided (some writers have said) by the queen herself, she clandestinely married her cousin, who was desperately in love with her.

The Chancellor, Lord Clarendon, who had such a hand in making the king's marriage, is said to have urged on the Stewart-Richmond alliance, and thereby mortally offended Charles, and hastened his own fall. Some time elapsed after this blow to the king's sus- ceptibilities before there was any further rumour of a divorce, and thus indirectly Frances was able to make life easier for the queen.

Lord "Bristow" (Bristol's) ''fits of the mother" had been the cause of much ribald mirth ever since

o

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he had concerned himself (many people thought, with- out sufficient warrant) in the marriage projects of the king. He was an officious busybody who meant well but habitually blundered, and was too fond of settling other people's affairs. He had been violently opposed to the Portuguese match, and had schemed with the Spanish Ambassador to prevent it, trying to raise the kings interest in some '' beautiful ladies of Italy, and magnifying their persons and conversations, in which arguments," says Clarendon, '' he had naturally a very luxurious style, unlimited by any rules of truth or modesty."

Neither his plots and plans, nor his malicious little tales, scraped up in a journey he took to hostile Spain for the purpose of proving the Infanta of Portugal an unsuitable wife for the king, had availed anything, as we know ; and every new addition to the family of the Duke of York (who already had three children) brought on a spasm of regret, and opened the floodgates of his lordship's grief and despair. His daughter was married to Lord Sunderland (Sach- arissa's only son). She seems to have inherited her father's espieglerie, and a few years later became one of the '' Sempronias " of her time. She was no favourite of her mother-in-law's, and came in for a well-merited share of the satire her father's officiousness provoked.

Buckingham, who was ''setting up his tables," was of course George Villiers, one of that band of brilliant sinners that surrounded the king. Less wicked than Shaftesbury, less coarse than Rochester, he was stronger than the first, and far more dangerous than the second, and his enmity to the Duke of Ormond was bitter and unrelenting. Men of the calibre of the

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great duke have no chance against the unscrupulous- ness of the Buckinghams of the world — they cannot without loss of dignity cope with their intrigues and plottings and frivolity ; besides, Ormond's youngest son had been so audacious as to carry off Bucking- ham's niece, and the heiress of his house !

At the time Lady Sunderland was writing he was at the height of his power, but the fatality which haunted the heads of his family did not desert this fifth and last duke ; he " died in a poor cottage in Yorkshire in 1687, having squandered the princely fortune his father left him, in extravagance and riotous living, leaving nothing behind him," wrote a con- temporary diarist (Edmund Bohun), '' but a reputa- tion for wit and imagination and briskness of fancy, but of no judgment, piety, or moral virtue."

A writer of a century later is more charitable, and has a plea for him which is so naive, I cannot for- bear quoting it at length. The Reverend Dionysius Lardner (a gentleman with a whole regiment of letters after his name), in writing a treatise on the manufacture of glass in his " Cabinet Encyclopaedia," feels certain that a man who could have projected the art of making glass in England could not have been so black as he has been painted ! Did he imagine, I wonder, that Buckingham, living in a ** glass house " as he certainly did, forbore to ** throw stones"? If so, he was very far from the truth, for the duke could throw stones as well as anybody ; and, as the Duke of Ormond found, his missiles were sharp and well