Illegitimate but loyal – the FitzJames family

220px-Arabella_ChurchillArabella Churchill was the mistress of the Duke of York for about ten years as well as being one of Anne Hyde’s ladies-in-waiting.  Arabella had four children by James.

Henrietta was the eldest of the siblings.  She married Henry Waldegrave, the son of a cavalier in 1683.  He was the Comptroller of James’ household.  Unlike her legitimate half-siblings Henrietta was raised as a Catholic and accompanied her father into exile along with Henry Waldegrave who died the following year.  She eventually married for a second time to Piers Butler, Viscount Galmoye but not before she’d had a fling with one of Ireland’s  wild geese. Through her first marriage she is an ancestor of Princess Diana.

Henrietta’s brother James, the most famous of Arabella’s FitzJames children, was raised in France and entered the service of Louis XIV.  He returned to England where he became an officer in the Blues at his father’s instigation.  In fact he was due to replace the protestant Earl of Oxford – an example of James’ strategy of giving key roles to Catholics – a strategy which helped to trigger the Glorious Revolution of 1688.  When men like John Churchill deserted James at Salisbury and went over to William of Orange, James remained loyal to his father and went to Ireland where the fight for the Crown continued before going into exile in France where he rejoined Louis XIV’s army.  His was a complicated life given that he found himself on the opposite side to his uncle, John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough.  Henry became a marshal in the french army and counselled his father not to trust John Churchill.  At one point he was captured by another his Churchill uncles and only released when exchanged with a French prisoner.  He became the Duke of Berwick but its a Jacobite title rather than one recognised by the English peerage.  He was killed in 1733, aged 63, by a passing cannon ball having refused to take part in the Jacobite rising of 1715. The Dukedom of Alba continued as a Spanish title.

A second Fitzjames boy, Henry, died in 1702 in France whilst the youngest FitzJames sibling, called Arabella born in 1674 opted to become a nun in Pontoise.  She took the name Ignatia.

Arabella Churchill married Charles Godfrey circa 1674.  She went on to have forty years of happy married life and three more children.  Godfrey was a colonel and a Whig – so anti-Jacobite.  In an already complicated family it is perhaps not surprising to learn that the FitzJames’ stepfather was one of the first men to join with William of Orange.  He would serve in various positions within the royal household as well as becoming an MP. Arabella outlived him by some sixteen years dying at the age of eighty in 1730.

 

The Butler did it!

Paxton House.jpgPaxton House in Berwickshire, pictured here from the gardens to the rear of the property, is a Regency delight stuffed with Chippendale furniture.  It was built by Patrick Home who had to pay for the design of the house by John Adam (younger brother of Robert), the quarrying, dressing and building of his delightfully symmetrical home a few miles from Berwick.  Ironically having built it he never actually lived in it.

The Homes are an ancient – and somewhat unlucky- border family. This is perhaps testified by the fact that between 1413 and 1576 every eldest son of the Home family died either in battle or as a prisoner in English hands.  The house even boasts a section of the so-called Flodden Banner that covered the bodies of Lord Home and his oldest son.   Though of course Paxton House hadn’t been built at that point.  In fact it wouldn’t be started until 1755.

The Home family managed to get itself into even deeper trouble in 1715 when it supported the Jacobite cause. Sir George Home of Wedderburn, his brother and his son managed to get caught at the Battle of Preston. Although George’s life was spared he was still guilty of treason so lost the family estate.  However, a cousin called Ninian was able to demonstrate that George owed him so much money that the estate was effectively mortgaged to him – resulting in its return to the family.  As these things tend to be, inheritance proved complicated.  Ninian had returned the property to George but none of George’s sons had legitimate heirs.  There were daughters.  Ninian intended that his son should marry George’s daughter Margaret but the son preferred Margaret’s younger sister.  Ninian having been widowed married Margaret himself…with me so far?  He was approximately thirty years older than his bride but that didn’t stop him fathering a second rather large family of whom the builder of Paxton House – Patrick- was the eldest surviving son.

Ninian died.  Margaret became responsible for her family’s upbringing.  Patrick was to be a lawyer. She sent him to be educated in Leipzig.  From there he went to Frederick the Great’s court, fell in love and was ordered to take the grand tour by his mother principally because the only way for Patrick to marry the girl he loved was to settle in Germany and Margaret did not want the family money to leave the country.

Whilst Patrick was touring Europe the family butler decided to relieve the family of the rent which was kept in a locked cabinet beneath Lady Home’s bed in her home at Linthill near Eyemouth.  The cabinet is now at Paxton House. Patrick’s mother was in the habit of carefully locking her chamber door before retiring to bed.  She also kept the keys to the cabinet under her pillow.

The butler, a man by the name of Norman Ross, knew how the tumbler mechanism for the lock to her bedroom worked.  He let himself in having stopped the lock by choking it with cherry stones, hid until Lady Home retired for the night and waited until she was asleep.  There was then the small matter of retrieving the keys from beneath her pillow.

Martin, David, 1737-1797; Margaret Home (d.1751), Lady BillieUnfortunately Margaret pictured above (image accessed from https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/margaret-home-d-1751-lady-billie-210935)  awoke.  The butler panicked and stabbed his employer with a knife – that he either had about him or which was upon the night stand depending on the source.  Margaret managed to summon help and survived long enough to name her murderer who had escaped through a window as the servants arrived on the scene.  She died on August 16 1751- the attack having happened on the night of the 12th.  Other accounts suggest that Margaret survived only two days.  In either event the murder is deemed to have occurred on the 12th.

Ross was arrested the following day and conveyed to Edinburgh where he was tried.  Prior to his execution he had his right hand chopped off.  He was also hanged in chains – one of the last men to suffer this fate.  Essentially his body was tarred and hanged in a cage where it was left to decompose. The severed hand was placed on top of the gallows.  Scottish law and English law differed in the treatment of Ross.  Under English law he would have been found guilty of petty treason but under Scottish law it was murder plain and simple.  The additional punishment reflected the fact that bond between servant and employer had been broken.  Ross was a trusted member of the household and is described in texts of the time as Margaret Home’s “confidential servant.”

It was probably as a consequence his dramatic return home that Patrick forgot to empty his travelling chest – a large and ornate piece of furniture.  It eventually languished in Paxton House for the next two hundred  and fifty years – consequentially the house has some very fine mid eighteenth century gentlemen’s costumes on display.

In 1755 Patrick began to build the house with a view to marrying the young woman he’d fallen in love with when he was twenty-two.  Unfortunately Sophie de Brandt, his sweetheart, died before the house was finished.  Patrick never furnished the house – that task fell to his cousin, another Ninian Home, when Patrick sold him the house in 1773 having inherited Wedderburn Castle from his uncle.

I loved Paxton House – a hidden gem. It’s part of the Historic Houses Association and entry to the house is by tour.  I’d have to say as much as I enjoyed the history I also enjoyed spotting the appropriately regency clad teddy bears that are part of the children’s trail! There’s no image of the Flodden Banner as photography is not permitted in the house.

 

The Scots Magazine   – Volume 13 – Page 405

https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=YoE4AQAAMAAJ&pg=PA355&lpg=PA355&dq=murder+of+margaret+Home,+Lady+Billie+1751&source=bl&ots=WLN4vs7WI0&sig=ACfU3U0WxBupL5x7hwUG_E4yhfc5OQ8Klg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjD89us1eniAhW5XRUIHUHPDpE4ChDoATABegQICRAB#v=onepage&q=murder%20of%20margaret%20Home%2C%20Lady%20Billie%201751&f=false

Caroline of Ansbach – how to get your husband to do what you want him to do!

Caroline of Ansbach

I came across an old Jean Plaidy novel – I haven’t read one for years but, unusually, being short of a book I started reading and am hooked – I may even start to take a more lively interest in the Hanoverians so long as I don’t get mired in Whigs and Tories.

Caroline was George II’s wife.   The thing that’s impossible to escape in the fictional account is that Caroline spends a lot of time pretending to be rather dim whilst actually manipulating her husband, George II, in terms of political decision making.

Inevitably I’ve gone off to the history books to find out more. George I and George, then Prince of Wales, had an almighty row and as a consequence George and Caroline were sent away from court.  Even worse Caroline was separated from her daughters.  She’d already had to leave her son Frederick in Hanover when the family came to England in 1714.

George I died in 1727  at which point George II became king. Caroline formed an alliance with Walpole who held a substantial majority in Parliament.  Initially they formed an alliance about the amount that the civil list would pay.  During the rest of her life  they persuaded the king to do what Walpole wanted.  This meant that Caroline had some sort of say in what happened in England.  Lord Hervey, Walpole’s political opponent cultivated the king’s mistress and discovered that it didn’t get him very far at all.

Caroline arrived in England as Princess of Wales when George, Elector of Hanover became king of England in 1714.  She immediately became the most important woman at court because George I was short of a queen.  George I had locked his wife, Sophia Dorothea of Celle, (who was also George’s first cousin)  in Ahlden Castle.  She’d been there since 1694  on account of her affair with  Count von Königsmarck.  The count was rather more unfortunate – his body was apparently disposed of in a river. Sophia Dorothea died in 1726.  George did bring his half sister and his mistress with him but they hardly counted in terms of the court scene, even though they did gain the names of the Elephant and the Maypole based on their looks.

Initially her court was almost separate from that of her husband – this wasn’t unusually what was different was that she filled it with intellectuals.  This must have come as a bit of a surprise after Queens Mary and Anne who weren’t known for their brains.  She  deliberately sought out Sir Issac Newton and was friends with Jonathan Swift.  She also set about trying to improve the lives of the people of England. In 1722 she had all of her children inoculated against small pox – using a cow pox vaccine making the whole thing wildly fashionable.  I’m less sure how warmly I feel about the fact that she had all the foundlings in London’s Foundling hospital inoculated before her own children.

Lucy Worsley says that she was the cleverest queen consort to sit on the throne.  Walpole commented that he’d taken the “right sow by the ear” when he chose to work with her.  Certainly when George went back to Hanover he trusted her sufficiently for her to rule as regent, during which time she wanted a closer look at the penal code of the time.  She was liberal in thought and behaviour and demonstrated compassion not only to the country’s imprisoned masses but also tried to plead leniency for the Jacobites in 1715.

Most important of all was that she was able to soothe George’s ruffled feathers, make him believe her words were his ideas and withstand his rudeness to her in public.  Whilst she had her husband fooled the public weren’t so easily hoodwinked:

You may strut, dapper George but ’twill all be in vain:

We know ’tis Queen Carline, not you, that reign.

The truth was that everyone apart from her husband knew that she was an intelligent and able consort.

Was she a successful queen?  The terms by which queen consorts are judged are not by their capacity to manipulate their spouses but by the children they produce.  Caroline was pregnant on at least ten occasions and had eight children. She’d already had a son and three daughters by the time she became Princess of Wales.  Her favourite son was William whom history calls Butcher Cumberland.  Together with her husband she didn’t much like her eldest son Frederick and was horrible to both him and his wife continuing a Hanoverian traction that would be maintained throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Caroline who had become rather overweight in later years died in November 1737 from a strangulated bowel  that was in part the product of poor treatment after the birth of her youngest child.  She underwent several rather unpleasant operations without any painkillers, although she did apparently find the fact that her surgeon managed to set his wig on fire with a candle rather amusing. She finally died  whilst holding her husband’s hand.

 

George II announced that no other woman he knew was fit to buckle her shoe – though that hadn’t stopped him from having many mistresses during their marriage or telling Caroline that she should love one mistress because the mistress loved him.

Dennison, Mathew. The First Iron Lady

http://www.lucyworsley.com/poor-queen-caroline-and-her-horrible-death/

 

Wild geese flying

james2.jpgIn 1688 William and Mary were invited take the throne – thus deposing Mary’s father James II (pictured left) after the birth of a Mary’s half-brother also called James by Mary of Modena.  But not everywhere took to the Protestant usurpation of James’ throne so easily.  I usually steer clear of Irish history and its complexities but the Treaty of Limerick on 3rd October 1691 saw Patrick Sarsfield first Lord Lucan,  a Jacobite come to terms with William’s army and bring the Williamite War in Ireland to a close.

Under the terms of the treaty Jacobite soldiers could freely leave Ireland with their wives and children.  They also had the option on becoming part of William’s army.  The rest could stay in Ireland so long as they gave a pledge of allegiance to William.  The nobility would even be allowed to carry weapons. So far so good.  Unfortunately by the mid 1690s the terms of the treaty were being ignored by the victors as they enforced new Penal Laws – though that is not what this post is about.

The men who chose to leave their home for a Catholic country such as France or Spain became known as wild geese.  Regiments of Irish can be found in the French army from the sixteenth century onwards.  In fact Sarsfield had experience of warfare from his years in the French army during the 1670s.  He returned to Ireland in 1689 in support of James II.

The so-called “flight of the wild geese”  refers to the large number of Jacobites, with Sarsfield at their head, who chose to leave their homes rather than swear allegiance to William. The Irishmen formed James II’s army in exile but in 1692 became part of the French army which also had an Irish Brigade composed of men who’d left their home shores in previous years.

The tradition of the wild geese continued into the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries – Napoleon had an Irish legion clad in green tunics.

And why wild geese?  Well apparently that’s how the men were described on ship’s manifests when they sailed from Ireland to the Continent disguising their identities and protecting the ship’s captain.

 

Bonnie Prince Charlie from Carlisle to Derby and back again…what the papers thought.

 

bonnie prince charlieI keep coming back to the Bonnie Prince probably because there is so much printed material available one way and another not to mention rather beautiful tableware and tall tales.  In the past it was assumed that regional newspapers of the period reflected a Londoncentric viewpoint.  This was what people wanted to read – with a side interest in the local crime rates, corresponding descriptions of executions and the occasional hideous accident.

In 1745 the press presented a very anti-Jacobite stance.  There were headlines like “No Popery” and “No Pretender.” The London Gazette helpfully announced Bonnie Prince Charlie’s landing in Scotland with a £30,00 reward for his capture whilst the Newcastle Courant, one of the oldest regional papers (I think) provided a sketch map of the Battle of Colloden.  The papers were so wholeheartedly Hanoverian that anything Scottish came almost to be regarded as a political and social threat to order and safety.  This was a viewpoint that would last for some time afterwards.  Harris’s article on Jacobitism identifies the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 as a news event of the kind with which we are all too familiar today – the papers ceased to report events they actively sort out scoops and battled one another to be first with a new angle or event.

1745 etchingSatirists made the point that the Jacobites were in league with the pope and being manipulated by the French.  This particular example is in the hands of the British Museum.  Another cartoon entitled The Highland Visitors depicts the Scots indulging in a spot of light plundering.  To be fair the satirists were more than happy to point a finger at General Cope when he arrived in Berwick with the news of his defeat following Prestonpans and in the aftermath  “Butcher Cumberland” was not presented in a warm or friendly light as this cartoon shows with Britannia weighing mercy and butchery:britannia weighing mercy and butchery

The figures involved were presented in tabloid dimensions.  This stereotyping was something that had grown out of the broadsheets and ballads of earlier centuries.  There is even an article on anti-Scottishness in political prints of the period and the use of prints to depict stereotypical Scots including the blue bonnet which the Young Pretender can be seen wearing at the start of this post.  Even more interestingly it was only in 1745 that tartan became synonymous with Scottishness as, I am sad to say, did being unwashed and eating oats.  Having said that the counter balance was the concept of Highland savagery – making the gentrified Hanoverians look somewhat sissy in contrast.  Bonnie Prince Charlie might have been the representative of popery, tyranny and chaos but he was also the brave “highland laddie” that grew from his extended tour of the Scottish Highlands.

But back to the papers of the day – The Northampton Mercury, as averse to the Derby Mercury, took the unprecedented steps of hiring couriers so that they could beat the London papers in reporting Bonnie Prince Charlie’s retreat from Derby.  It also arranged for the London Papers to be couriered to its offices by using four staging posts for speed. The modern age of newspapers had arrived.

As some of you are aware I teach some courses for the WEA – the Workers Educational Association. I shall be delivering a very short course at the beginning of September (Tuesday morning 4th and 11th) on the topic of the Jacobite Prince in Derby. The course reference is C2340279.

https://enrolonline.wea.org.uk/Online/CourseSearchResults.aspx

 

If you would like to attend please book via the WEA website or phone their office.

 

Barker, Hannah. (1999) Newspapers and English Society 1695-1855

Clarke, Bob. (2004) From Grub Street to Fleet Street: An Illustrated History of English Newspapers to 1899.

Harris, Bob. (1995) England’s Provincial Newspapers and the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745-46. History 80.  5-21

Pentland, G 2011, ‘“We Speak for the Ready”: Images of Scots in Political Prints, 1707-1832’ Scottish Historical Review, vol 90, no. 1, pp. 64-95. DOI: 10.3366/shr.2011.0004

Jacobite symbols – decoding treachery or loyalty…

bonnie prince charlieI’m having a wander in my own direction this afternoon  back into the realms of the Jacobites. In this instance symbolism. These days if we think of anything associated with the Stuarts other than the emblematic Scottish thistle we tend to identify the white Jacobite rose and the white cockade that Jacobites wore on their blue bonnets. However, as you might expect it is not that straightforward. The rose for example should possibly have six petals and either one or two buds. If one bud it references Bonnie Prince Charlie, if two buds then it’s a reference to Charlie and his younger brother Henry. The whole white rose thing is relatively straight forward. The Old Pretender or James III depending on your frame of mind was born on June 10th which is white rose day.  It also helps that the rosa alba is the white rose associated with Scotland which, if you are of a romantic disposition is the kind of rose that the Young Pretender plucked from a bush as he passed it shortly after arriving in Scotland in 1745.

 

It is not quite so simple as ABC – which naturally stands for A Blessed Change or how about QRS which stands for Quickly Return Stuart.  Here in no particular order as some of the symbols associated with the Jacobite cause:

Butterflies and moths: a symbol of rebirth and renewal or in the phrase of the time, “the return of the soul.”

Sunflowers: it’s an image associated with loyalty because the sunflower turns its head to track the progress of the sun.

Bees: another symbol for loyalty as well as being representative of new life out of decay. If that isn’t enough insects for you then there are also dragonflies and beetles.

Acorn and oak leaves: a Stuart symbol dating from the Restoration. It references Charles II’s escape after the Battle of Worcester when he hid up the oak tree at Boscobel House. It became a symbol of rebirth once Charles wore oak leaves in his hat in 1660 when he returned to England. And it turns out trees are rather more complex than you could even begin to imagine. In 1689 a medal was struck to celebrate the coronation of William and Mary – it bore an oak tree with an orange growing out of it just to remind people that Mary was a Stuart. Green trees and shoots are also about fertility. This clearly has the obvious connotation of plentiful heirs but it was also used in the context of a withered tree when an unjust king was on the throne making the nation wither. We can also move into the realms ofireligious symbolism.  Oak trees are wood. The cross upon which Christ was crucified was made of wood. The oak and the cross are made of the same thing there fore the oak tree is like the Cross. The Stuarts across the sea represent the Arisen Christ – so the rightful monarchs by Divine Right and we might also want to consider martyrdom which takes us back to Charles I. Clearly this was a group of extremely well educated people with nothing better to do than drink wine from exquisitely engraved treasonous  glassware and come up with increasingly complex images to demonstrate their allegiance.

A six pointed star which simply represents royalty. A compass in the form of a starburst as with the star.  Even better for the compass to have a flour de lis pointer. Remember that the french kings offered their support to the Jacobites.

Birds – especially the Jay – yes that’s right, King James III’s initial letter is a J. Ravens could also be used to symbolise Jacobite allegiance given their heraldic links to Scottish kings in the past and there’s also a poem that uses the metaphor of a blackbird to represent James.

If as a Jacobite you wanted your coded loyalty to have a more classical bent then Medusa’s head – Bonnie Prince Charlie being the Perseus sent to rescue the British people from the nasty Hanoverians and Medusa translates as guardian which brings us neatly to the true guardianship of the nation…the Stuarts.

Daffodils symbolise spring and are therefore about hope – so they must naturally be a reference to returning Stuart monarchs. Even a carnation can be seen as symbolic of the Stuart cause because it represents a “coronation.” Forget-me-nots reference the obvious fact that the Stuarts should not be forgotten.

Many of these symbols can be found on beautiful examples of eighteenth century glassware. There are about five hundred examples of Jacobite glassware in existence today. The guidebook from Fairfax House in York observes that this indicates that originally there must have been thousands, so that whilst in theory many people were prepared to raise their glasses in a toast to the “king over the water” fewer were prepared to put their money or themselves where their mouths were.

Aside from the various images there were also opportunities to demonstrate loyalty to the Stuarts through mottoes such as Fiat which translates as “Let it be” as in Let it be a Stuart restoration. Redeat meaning it returns.  Even saying Amen could have a Jacobite context especially if your toasting glass was decorated with the Jacobite National Anthem, a crown and a portrait of James III or his initials:

 

God save the King, I pray,

God bless the King, I pray,

God save the King.

Send him victorious,

Happy and glorious,

Soon to reign over us,

 

God save the King.

God bless the Prince of Wales,

The true-born Prince of Wales,

Sent us by Thee.

Grant us one favour more,

The King for to restore,

As Thou hast done before

The familie.

 

God save the Church, I pray,

God bless the Church, I pray,

Pure to remain Against all heresie,

And Whig’S Hipocrasie,

Who strive maliciouslie

Her to defame.

 

God bless the subjects all,

And save both great and small

In every station.
That will bring home the King;

Who hath best right to reign,

It is the only thing

Can save the Nation.-Amen.

 

Other toasts included “to the little gentleman in the black velvet waistcoat,” which was a reference to William of Orange falling from his horse to his death when the horse allegedly tripped over a mole hill causing him to break his collar bone from which pneumonia was a secondary illness. There is even a Gaelic toast which plays on words to reference Bonnie Prince Charlie escaping to Skye dressed as a woman. And let’s not forget the importance of passing the glass over a bowl of water even if you couldn’t toast “The King across the water” out loud.

There is such as thing as having too many symbols and the Jacobites seem to have gone for coded loyalty big time from traditional royal symbols via mythical and allegorical signs to the downright obscure.  And I haven’t even ventured into the realms of Jacobite commemorative paraphernalia which make modern royal coronation and wedding chinaware seem positively low key. For example you could get a piece of china depicting a handsome knight or shepherd and you were actually demonstrating your loyalty to the Pretender. There were Jacobite medals, fans, trinket boxes and miniatures.

I think I can also safely say that I have enough material to make a Jacobite cross stitch sampler.

 

Guthrie, Neil (2013) The Material Culture of the Jacobites. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

http://www.scotlandsglass.co.uk/cms/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&catid=31:scottish-glass-general&id=61:jacobite-glasses-fascinating-and-controversial

https://www.nms.ac.uk/explore-our-collections/stories/scottish-history-and-archaeology/the-jacobite-challenge/

 

 

The Cavendish Connection Part three – The first five Dukes of Devonshire.

The arbitrary number of Dukes reflects the course of the Eighteenth Century rather than an erroneous number of “lords a leaping.”

(c) National Trust, Hardwick Hall; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

(c) National Trust, Hardwick Hall; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

I actually dealt with the First Duke of Devonshire in my previous post as he was also the fourth earl.  Having invited William and Mary to take the Crown in the Glorious Revolution of 1688 he conveniently died in 1707 having helped to negotiated the union of the kingdoms of England and Scotland.  Despite his reputation for brawling and womanising he clearly did evolve into a serious political figure.  This happened following his return from his Grand Tour when he entered the houses of Parliament principally because he was anti-Charles II and anti-Catholic. There was also the small matter of Colonel Culpepper as described in yesterday’s post. In addition to becoming a duke he was also made Lord High Steward by King William in grateful recognition of his services.

The First Duke was unusual in his family in that he was a Whig, i.e. he wanted parliamentary government rather than a government dominated by the monarchy.  Presumably his uncle the Duke of Newcastle and his father the Third Earl must have been spinning in their graves.  Roy Hattersley explains that the Whig attitude  was that men of birth were endowed with a duty to protect the interest of the nation (of course, it helped if they prospered at the same time.)  The basic caveat was that the men of birth should have land because the soil was the physical embodiment of their duties and responsibilities.  Johnson described the first Whig as being the Devil! This description came about because these powerful men not only believed that they had a duty to protect the nation but that they could do what they wanted when they wanted irrespective of the law – which may be a bit of a swinging statement  but you get the gist. Suffice it to say Horace Walpole described the first duke as “a patriot amongst the men and a gallant among the ladies – ” a stamens which had nothing to do with Cavendish’s manners.

2nd duke of devonshire.jpgOn which note let us proceed to the Second Duke – unsurprisingly called William.  William had gained the title Marquis of Hartington on his father’s elevation to a dukedom in 1594. This is the title by which the heir of the current duke is still known.  This William was not a chip off the old block.  He did not become involved in drunken brawls or debauchery.  His marriage, arranged by his father to show his political loyalties, was to Lady Rachael Russell the daughter of William Russell who was executed in 1683 after attempting to have the Catholic Duke of York excluded from the succession.  Charles responded by dissolving parliament thus removing the Whig voice.  Russell was ultimately implicated in the Rye House Plot to assassinate Charles II – He hadn’t actually been involved in the actual plot, it was enough that he was a leading Whig – at worst his crime was misprision of treason which wasn’t a capital offence, which basically means that he knew something treasonous was about to happen but he didn’t tell the authorities. The political union between William and Rachael evolved into a love match rather to the first duke’s irritation.

William’s education followed the pattern of his father and grandfather.  He was sent on a Grand Tour and then he entered into local politics and administration. He sat for Derbyshire but then lost his seat -again to his father’s irritation.  However, this proved to be to his advantage as he then gained  a seat in South Yorkshire.  His corresponding member was Robert Walpole. The pair became firm friends and, let’s face it, it’s always handy to know a prime minister. In 1707 William became the Second Duke of Devonshire.

His arch enemy in political terms in Derbyshire was the Tory, Henry Sacheverell. The rise of Henry reflected the rise of the Tories in national government and William found himself out of his job as a privy councillor. Instead of sulking he had an amendment added to the Act of Settlement identifying the Elector of Hanover’s eldest son as an additional heir to the Crown.  It reflected William’s protestantism as averse to the Tory High Church view of the world that came perilously close to Catholicism in William’s mind.  It should be noted that not only did William support the established church but spoke out for dissenters as well.  When Queen Anne died on August 1 1714 William rose once more with the role of Lord Steward of George I’s household.

There was an interlude whilst James III’s son, the so-called Old Pretender, made a bid for the throne getting so far as Preston before being beaten. Bills were passed against Catholics. Later he opposed the South Sea Bubble scheme which he argued would have horrible effects on the economy. He even managed to be friends with both George I and the Prince of Wales – a fairly unusual state of affairs.

3rd duke of devonshire.jpgThe third duke is, completely unsurprisingly, also a William.  He became duke in 1729 following his Oxford education and stint in parliament representing various counties.    Dr Johnson who we have already seen was not keen on Whigs made an exception for the Third Duke of Devonshire.  He described him as “a man faithful to his word” – though not necessarily of “superior abilities.”  He was also described as a man of untidy dress, plain habits and noted on on account of the astonishing amount that he could drink.

catherine hoskyns.jpgIn 1718  William, then Marquis of Hartington, married Katherine Hoskins.  It was not a match arranged by the second duke.  The marquis had fallen in love with a merchant’s daughter – fortunately the merchant was wealthy.  Hugh Walpole described Katherine as “delightfully vulgar.”  The pair had seven children upon whom their father doted (I’m warming to this Cavendish).

In 1737 he became the Viceroy, General Governor and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, his mother after all was the daughter of the First Duke of Ormonde.  The Duke remained in post for the next seven years returning to England just in time for the next round of Jacobite plotting.

Arriving home in January 1745 the third duke became Lord Steward of the Royal Household – not that it stopped the Duke from spending his time in Derbyshire.  By September England was in uproar over the arrival of Bonnie Prince Charlie in Scotland.  On September 28th 1745 there was a meeting at the George Inn in Derby for the purpose of raising a militia.  I’ve posted recently about the inglorious activities of the Derbyshire Blues who headed in the direction of Nottingham as soon as they realised that Derby was the next stopping point for the Jacobite army.  The duke not known for his martial tendencies had expressed concern about his valuables. It was this duke and his wife who are the direct ancestors of both Prince Charles and Princess Diana. The third duke died in December 1755. His wife survived him by twenty-two years.

4th duke of devonshire.jpgWhich brings us to the Fourth Duke – yes his name is William.  He was born in 1720.  and like his forefathers became an MP and served in Government – briefly becoming Prime Minister. He married aristocratically to Elizabeth Boyle, the 6th Baroness Clifford which is why the Cavendishs own Bolton Abbey.  In addition to which she brought huge quantities of London property and other assets into the Cavendish fold.  All I really want to add about duke number four is that he arranged for Capability Brown to landscape Chatsworth and he was the chap who had the rather grand stable built.

william-cavendish-5th-duke-of-devonshire-1768-chatsworth-house-derbyshire-by-pompeo-batoni-1434193609_b.jpgFinally we arrive at the Fifth Duke of Devonshire and the nineteenth century.  Yes, his name was William Cavendish – there does seem to be a bit of a pattern emerging. Like his father the fifth duke was Lord Lieutenant of Derbyshire handheld administrative posts in Ireland but unlike his father who must have held the office of Prime Ministers for one of the shortest periods of time ever he declined cabinet positions. The Fifth Duke is more famous for his marriages, firstly to Lady Diana Spencer and secondly to his long term mistress Lady Elizabeth Hervey but that’s a post for another time as is the development of Buxton as a fashionable eighteenth century spa town.

And that is as far as I propose to go down the line of Cavendish dukes. The Sixth duke (another William ) is known to history as “the Bachelor Duke” and when he died the title passed to the descendants of the third son of the fourth duke.

Hattersley, Roy. (2014) The Devonshires: The Story of a Family and a Nation. London:Vintage Books

Pearson, John. (1984) The Serpent and the Stag. New York: Holt Reinhart

Thomas_Gainsborough_Lady_Georgiana_Cavendish

The Derbyshire Militia – facing Bonnie Prince Charlie in 1745

blue plaque derbyI’ve hopped away from the English Civil War for a couple of days. I’m currently trying to find out what I can about the Derbyshire Blues. This was the regiment of militia raised by William Cavendish, the Third Duke of Devonshire, in 1745 in response to the arrival of Bonnie Prince Charlie and his prospective invasion of England.

 

There had been an act to permit the raising of militia at the beginning of the eighteenth century which required regular renewal but this had lapsed when it was not renewed in 1735. In theory this meant that all the Lord Lieutenants of counties who raised regiments against the Jacobites were in breach of the law not that this stopped King George II’s ministers from approving the need for them on the 5th September 1745. George II was in Hanover and so Parliament could not sit until he returned so even though letters were sent out to Lords Lieutenant on the 13th they weren’t acting entirely within the bounds of legality. As a consequence the Militia Act of 1745 passed through parliament into law in one day. The Act stated that at any time up to the 30 November 1746, the militia could be called for active service, with each soldier to be provided with a month’s pay, advanced locally and repaid within six months. Any regiment of militia would be liable to serve throughout the country – although in Derbyshire there was a stipulation that none of its militia should be expected to march more than ten miles outside the county boundaries. So essentially, think of the militia as a proto-type home guard.

 

The problem seems to have been that the militia despite their pay and in many cases their new uniforms were not the kind of men that the Lords Lieutenant might have hoped for. In Carlisle men deserted in droves when they are required to defend the walls and in Lancashire despite their new coats, hats and shoes the militia took itself off to Liverpool before decamping in the direction of Warrington to destroy bridges. Beckett reveals that the militia were so ineffective that the Jacobites gave them the code name “small beer” although he does note that they were much more effective during the Jacobite retreat in that they harried stragglers and sought to slow the Highlanders by felling trees across various roads.

William-Cavendish-3rd-Duke-of-Devonshire.jpg

In Derbyshire the Duke of Devonshire, a Whig supporter of the Hanoverians was also the Lord Lieutenant of the county. He had just returned from duties in Ireland where he had been Lord Lieutenant for six years. It was his job to raise the militia. On the 28th September there was a meeting in the George Inn on Irongate in Derby:

“to consider of such measures as are fit to be taken for the support of the Royal Person and government of H. M. King George, and our happy constitution in Church and State, at a time when rebellion is carrying on in favour of a Popish Pretender.”

As a result of the discussion a regiment of five hundred men was formed. One hundred and twenty of them had been paid for by the duke himself. Overall command of the regiment was to be given to the Duke of Devonshire with the Marquis of Hartington and Sir Nathaniel Curzon taking charge of one company each with the two county MPs taking the jobs of colonels of the regiment. The minutes of the meeting revealed the initial idea was that the men should be divided amongst Derbyshire’s market towns – Ashbourne was to have fifty men as was Bakewell whilst Chesterfield and Derby were to have a hundred men each.   Sir Nathaniel Curzon, Sir Robert Burdett, Sir Henry Harpur, Littleton Poyntz Meynell, William Cotton, German Pole, Edward Munday, Richard Harpur, Philip Gell were signatories to the document and in excess of £6000 was raised by subscription for the formation of the militia.

George InnA second meeting at the George, or the King’s Head as it became as the Jacobites drew closer was also recorded in the Derby Mercury.  It turns out that the Duke not only summoned the gentry of the county to discuss the need for a militia but that he wined and dined them as well.  Even so when commissions were sent out it was reported that some  were turned down.

The Derbyshire Blues were a nattily dressed bunch in blue serge coats, white breeches, black buckled shoes and tricorn hats sporting an orange cockade. In London it was arranged for armaments to be sent from The Tower to Derbyshire in two waggons.

On the 19th November, by which time the Jacobites had captured Carlisle, Lord Lonsdale, the Lord Lieutenant of Cumberland, wrote to the Due of Devonshire saying that he had heard from Penrith to the effect that the Jacobites were coming with an army of 8,000 men and where was the English army under the command of Sir John Ligionier? Lonsdale was concerned that his message had got lost en route and hoped that the duke could correspond with the army based at Lichfield more effectively. Ligionier was unwell and he was about to be replaced by George II’s son, the Duke of Cumberland.

 

As December approached the panic seems to have grown, trees were felled to form a blockade on the road between Buxton and Ashbourne; letters were written about the dangers of local Catholics who found themselves unable to own a horse worth more than £5.00 and forbidden to travel far from their own doorsteps. By the 3rd of December folk who could leave Derby did so.

 

The militia paraded, moved into position to guard Swarkestone Bridge and then at ten in the evening scarpered to Mansfield via Nottingham before deciding that it was still too close to the Jacobites having sent a scout to find out if they had yet left Derby and decamping to Retford – which is not exactly on a direct route to London but was much closer to Marshall Wade who was then in Doncaster! Part of the reason for their reluctance to encounter the Jacobites was that they believed that the prince’s army was considerably larger than it really was. Rumour suggested somewhere in the region of 9,000 men when actually the army was closer to 4,000. Even if they had known the true number it is hard to imagine what five hundred part-time soldiers could possibly have done against the highlanders in an unwalled city aside from getting themselves slaughtered.

 

After the whole affair was over a satire purporting to be a chronicle of the “mighty acts of Devonshire” was published – presumably by a Jacobite sympathiser or by a forerunner of Jimmy Perry.  Very sensibly the author chose a pseudonym “Nathan Ben Shaddai.” He wrote it in the manner of an Old Testament reading.  The militia are seen arguing about where is safest for them and then go to Nottingham via the village of Borrows-Ash where “they make war on the poultry” and drank “much strong drink” before departing “forgetting to pay.” During the course of their flight a certain Captain Lowe does not emerge particularly heroically and having consumed rather a lot of intoxicating liquor the regiment confuses a herd of cows with the Jacobites. The chronicle descends into farce when one of the drummers leaves his drum on the road in the confusion and a Lieutenant accidentally rode his horse over it causing even more chaos not to mention a soiling of the aforementioned  white breeches.

 

Beckett, Fredrick, William. (1991)The Amateur Military Tradition, 1558-1945. Manchester: Manchester University Press

Lord, Evelyn and  Money, David. (2004) The Stuarts Secret Army: English Jacobites 1689-1752. London: Pearson

Riding, Jacqueline. A New History of the ’45 Rebellion.  London: Bloomsbury

Stone, Brian. (2015). Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Highland Army in Derby. Cromford: Scarthin Books.

https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/The_Chronicle_of_the_Derbyshire_Regiment.html?id=HLmDAQAACAAJ&redir_esc=y

Image of the Duke of Devonshire from the National Portrait Gallery Collection.

 

 

 

 

 

Nunnington Hall – Jacobites, cypher and ghosts.

Picture 170Nunnington Hall in Ryedale is built on land originally owned by St Mary’s Abbey in York. The hall is fifteenth and sixteenth century in origin –so no medieval links to feasting or law should you pause a while in the double height hallway with its baronial fireplace  but its perhaps unsurprising to discover that there was a building here in the thirteenth century.

 

The_Marquess_of_Northampton_by_Hans_Holbein_the_Younger.jpgThe history of  Nunnington’s owners is lively. It passed into the Parr family when Maud Green married Sir Thomas Parr of Kendal. As the elder of the two co-heresses it was Maud who acquired Nunnington. Maud died in 1532. Her son William inherited the property but unfortunately for him the then Marquess of Northampton became involved in Wyatt’s Rebellion of 1553. The bid to replace mary Tudor with Lady Jane Grey failed. Jane had not plotted but her father the duke of Suffolk had become involved. He, his daughter and his son-in-law were promptly executed. Parr was fortunate to suffer only attainder. Nunnington was forfeit to the Crown.

 

220px-Viscount_prestonNunnington was leased out to various families including Elizabeth I’s physician but in 1655, after the English Civil War, the manor was sold to Ranald Graham. He was succeeded by his nephew Sir Richard Graham of Netherby in Cumbria. He was made Viscount Preston and Baron Esk in 1681. He would also marry into the Howard family when he married the daughter of the earl of Carlisle. He served under Charles II and James II. He even did a turn as English ambassador in France. In 1689 his luck turned when he sided with James II rather than William of Orange and James’ daughter Mary. Graham was captured on his way across the Channel. Even as his escape vessel was boarded he made every attempt to destroy incriminating documents. He was attainted and sentenced to death in 1691. The sentence was never carried out because Queen Mary spared him when his daughter Catherine pleaded for his life- it may also have helped that he did turn evidence against his fellow conspirators- but his lands were parcelled out to, amongst others, the earl of Carlisle. It was just as well that it had all been kept in the family because Richard was allowed home and his son Edward eventually inherited Graham’s estate although it was his daughter Catherine by then Lady Widdrington who ultimately inherited Nunnington when her nephew Charles died – the names give an indication of continued Graham loyalty to the Stuart cause…though how the Jacobites felt about Lord Preston giving evidence against them is another matter entirely.

 

The Graham family maintained their loyalty to the Jacobite cause particularly Richard’s daughter Catherine. Even today if you visit the house you can see a ring which contains a lock of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s hair, an Order of the Garter and blue garter ribbon belonging to Prince Charles Edward Stuart and fragments of Jacobite plaid.

The symbolism of the Jacobite cause is hard to ignore and in additon to drinking toasts to the king over the water it turns out that some families advertised their loyalty to the cause by planting Scots’ pine in a prominent position. There is one at Nunnington. There is even a notebook discovered in 2011 filled with cipher which is still unexplained made by Graham and hidden under the floorboards.

 

So there is the Bonnie Prince Charlie link and now for the second of the ghost stories:

It is said that one of Nunnington’s squires being a widower with a young son remarried. The new wife quickly provided a second son for the squire and when the squire died she set about ensuring that her son inherited rather than his elder half-brother.

At first the woman locked her step-son in an attic where he was ill clothed and poorly fed. Orders were given that no one was to have anything to do with the boy. The only person who dared to defy this order was the boy’s younger half-brother. He would take toys, clothes and food up to the attics and spend time there. However, one day he made his accustomed climb up the stairs to find the room deserted and no sign of what had become of the older boy.

It was suggested by some that he had either been sent to sea or run away to sea. Less kind folk hinted that the boy’s step- mother had murdered the lad.

The little boy now inherited Nunnington but he was devastated by the disappearance of his brother and believed that the boy would return. One day he thought he heard his brother, leant to far out of the window and fell to his death. The boy’s mother took to sitting in the panelled room where her son had fallen and it wasn’t long before she too died. It is said that the sound a a rustling silk gown can be heard as the woman searches for ever for her own dead boy.

I’d have to admit that Nunnington Hall is a tad on the draughty side but I spend rather more time trying to photograph the peahen’s chicks than stalk ghosts.

 

 

 

‘Parishes: Nunnington’, in A History of the County of York North Riding: Volume 1, ed. William Page (London, 1914), pp. 544-548. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/yorks/north/vol1/pp544-548 [accessed 17 December 2017].

 

Material Culture and Sedition, 1688-1760: Treacherous Objects, Secret Places

By M. Pittock

 

 

 

Georgian style

fullsizeoutput_11c.jpegThe Georgian Period dates between 1714 with the accession of George I and 1830 when William IV or Sailor Billy as he was known succeeded his brother George IV.

The Regency Period which often dominates popular knowledge because of it influence on culture, fashion and architecture only lasted nine years from February 05 1811 when George III was deemed incapable of ruling and his son became Prince Regent in his stead.George III had suffered from periodic bouts of madness caused, we think, by porphyria that had alarmed Parliament since 1788 but the death of his youngest daughter Princess Amelia aged only 27 in November 1810 sent him spiralling into insanity.  The Prince Regent, “Prinny” or George Augustus Frederick to give him his full name ruled in his father’s stead for the nine years until George III died in Windsor Castle on 29 January 1820.  The Prince Regent then became George IV.

Just to confuse things slightly further the Regency era is usually seen as incorporating the reigns of both George IV and William IV as well coming to an end only with the reign of Queen Victoria.

Essentially Regency Architecture is Neo-Classical.  Its about symmetry, balance, columns, pastel shades animist importantly breaking the rules of proportion.  It associated with Robert Adam amongst others.  I should add that I’ve by-passed the earlier Georgian Palladian Architecture completely.  Palladian Architecture was bound by the rules of proportion as a result tends to look heavier than Neo-Classical buildings – but as with all these things it is probable that you wouldn’t have had one without the other.

Aside from Bath’s famous and very beautiful crescent Kedleston Hall in Derbyshire springs to mind as being very Neo-Classical and its a hall – so that’s where my advent image for today is coming from.  The lion can be found in the Long Walk rather than in the hallway!  He’s a reproduction of a sixteenth century lion in the Villa Medici in Rome. The ball doesn’t not represent the lion’s desire for a game of football but is representative of the Earth.  The lion is about power and, of course, royalty.  Nathanial Curzon commissioned the piece in 1759 – which is somewhat before the Regency Era.

Curzon, like many other men of the period, was influenced by his Grand Tour of Europe – the Seventeen and Eighteenth Century equivalent of a gap year.  Essentially the idea of the Grand Tour was to broaden the mind and apparently to collect classical stuff if half the stately houses I’ve ever been to are anything to go by.  This discovery of ancient architecture and artefacts was one of the things which influenced the Palladian and Neo-Classical styles.  Men wished to emulate the ancient civilisations.

If you’re feeling grieved by the fact that the only hall aspect of this post is the name Kedleston Hall all I can do is offer you some examples of Neo-Classical staircases such as the one in Somerset House or the impressive spiralling staircase in the Greenwich Naval College.