Tag Archives: Samuel Pepys

George Villiers, 2nd Duke of Buckingham, his brother and their women

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George Villiers, 2nd Duke of Buckingham by Sir Peter Lely via Wikimedia Commons

George was born in 1628. He was only an infant when his father was assassinated by John Felton. Charles I arranged for the boy and his brother Francis and their elder sister Mary, to be raised in the royal nurseries and from there to complete his education at Cambridge.

He took part in the Siege of Lichfield in 1643 but was sent with his brother, under the tutorship of the Earl of Northumberland, to Italy but returned to England in time for the Second English Civil War. Because of his age, Parliament returned his sequestrated lands to him. Francis was still only 19 years old when he joined the Earl of Holland’s failed Royalist rising. The boy was killed on 7 July 1648 in a particularly brutal manner following a surprise attack. Part of the reason for the soldiers success was that Villiers had sent his companions away so that he could enjoy the evening which his mistress, Mary Kirke.

George managed to escape the situation after fighting off six Parliamentarians. Parliament once again confiscated his lands and gave them to General Sir Thomas Fairfax. Charles II admitted Buckingham to his council but he was often in opposition to Edward Hyde and he negotiated with Oliver Comrwell’s government which distanced him from the rest of the king’s advisers. Matters were not helped by a dispute with Charles and an attempt to court the widowed Mary, Princess of Orange.

When he returned to England in 1657 he met and married Mary Fairfax, the daughter of the general who held his lands. Fairfax had intended his daughter to marry Philip Stanhope but Mary fell in love with the cavalier. Fairfax was even required to negotiate for the release of his son-in-law from the Tower of London.

It was not to be a happy marriage. Buckingham found his way back into royal favour at the Restoration and was soon up to his neck in intrigue and passion. He became part of the so called CABAL Ministry and in 1668 fought a duel with the Earl of Shrewsbury over the earl’s wife. Having killed the earl, he imported the widowed countess to his home. She apparently had been present at the duel disguised as a page. When Mary protested, he arranged to send her home to her father. In 1671, Anna Talbot gave birth to Buckingham’s son but the boy died soon afterwards. Parliament was not amused and in 1673 the lovers parted. Anna found herself temporarily in a convent in France.

As well as the scandalous affair with Anna, Buckingham also had a liaison with Barbara Villiers, who was his cousin. The pair had, it seems, several amorous encounters with one another at the same time as plotting against their enemies including the Earl of Clarendon. Of course, the fact that both of them wanted to be the most powerful person at court and to have Charles II’s favour it meant that as soon as they’d finished with their intrigues to topple their shared political opponent they turned on one another.

Pepys stated in his diary that Buckingham was unfit for public office after his duel. Pepys also referenced another court observer who described him as an. ‘atheist, blasphemer, violent, cruel and infamous for his licentiousness.’

For Mary Fairfax, a devout Presbyterian, who genuinely loved her erring spouse there was only dignified silence. Perhaps it’s what ensured she and Catherine of Braganza became close friends. Mary served the queen from 1663 until 1692 when Catherine returned to Portugal.

Villiers died in 1687 at Kirkbymoorside. He was given an elaborate funeral at Westminster Abbey. His long suffering wife was buried beside him after her death in 1704. She had spent many of those years fending off her husband’s creditors.

Anna Talbot returned to England in 1677, married again and was welcomed back into society although she was never allowed custody of hers and Shrewsbury’s son – Charles. In 1688, in the aftermath of the Glorious Revolution, Anna became a Jacobite spy.

Charles Talbot, 12th Earl of Shrewsbury, on the other hand, refused to have anything to do with the Catholic king even when he was sitting on the throne. In 1688 he was one of the so-called Immortal Seven who invited William of Orange to invade England and topple his father-in-law from his throne. Quite remarkably Charles served William, Mary and Anne dying in 1718. By then he was the 1st Duke of Shrewsbury but the title died with him, having no legitimate children.

Audley End in the eyes of some of its early visitors.

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Notable Diarists and Journal Keepers

The diarist, John Evelyn visited Audley End in 1654 describing it as something between ‘ancient and modern’. He added that it was one of the ‘stateliest palaces in the kingdom’. He and Celia Fiennes who visited at the end of the seventeenth century commented on the river that ran through the park. Samuel Pepys was more interested in the quality of the wine and the prettiness of the landlord’s daughter at the inn where he was staying.

Pepys visited the home of the Earl of Suffolk at Saffron Walden on 27 February 1659. He was shown around by the housekeeper there – who was a man… ” the stateliness of the ceilings, chimney-pieces, and form of the whole was exceedingly worth seeing. He took us into the cellar, where we drank most admirable drink, a health to the king.” He visited again in 1667 and ‘mighty merry’ he was – which comes as no surprise to his readership.

Celia Fiennes, who completed her journeys riding side saddle, often with only two servant to accompany her, visited in 1697. Her journal described the building in more detail – “built round three courts. There are thirty great and little towers on the top, and a great cupola in the middle. The rooms are large and lofty, with good rich old furniture, tapestry, et cetera, but no beds in that part we saw. There are 750 rooms in the house. The canal in the midst of the park looked very fine. It’s altogether a stately palace, and was built for one of the kings.”

Thomas Audley, Henry VIII’s Lord Chancellor from 1533 until 1544 shortly before the 1st Baron Audley’s own death built the house on the proceeds of his service to the Crown. I’ve enjoyed researching Colchester’s former recorder for my A-Z of the city. He was created Baron Audley in 1538 and acquired the land at Saffron Walden with the dissolution of the monasteries.

Audley’s only surviving child, Margaret Audley, was married to Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk. Their son, Thomas Howard, became the first of the Howard earls of Suffolk – hence the ownership of the property from that time onwards. Thomas Howard was born at Audley End in 1561. He inherited the house in 1564 after Margaret’s death. Just as an aside, Margaret was a cousin of Lady Jane Grey.

Royal Connections to Audley End

King James, who was fond of Margaret’s grandson, visited twice in 1614 by which time the earls of Suffolk had modified Thomas Audley’s original house. The improved grand design was based on the premise that royalty would make the most of the hospitality that the earl could provide. Which brings me to the Stuarts and the royal connection mentioned by Celia Fiennes. Charles II liked the house so much that he purchased it in 1668. James Howard 3rd Earl of Suffolk was not so enamoured of the Stewart kings that he wanted to ruin himself during the English Civil Wars – instead he lived quietly at Audley. After the Restoration he sold the house and the park to Charles II who renamed it New Palace and stayed there when he wanted to watch the races at Newmarket.

In 1701 the earls of Suffolk were restored to their former home in return for not demanding more of the £20,000 that Charles II promise but apparently never paid for the property.

And that as they say is that.

The History of Audley End, Richard Lord Braybrooke, (London: Samuel Bentley, 1836) 

Samuel Pepys’ lion

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Tower of London, lions

Alright – I know that the seventeenth century is not medieval by anyone’s stretch of the imagination – however, I just couldn’t resist.

Samuel Martin, a consul in Algiers and husband of one of Samuel’s old flames, sent Pepys a ‘tame’ lion as a gift in 1674. Sam decided that the lion would be best accommodated in his admiralty office in much the same manner as any other moggy. He wrote with his thanks and the information that ‘as tame as you sent him, and as good company.’ The cub eventually grew too big to be accommodated in Sam’s office at Derby House and he joined the menagerie in the Tower of London. Samuel had written about visits to the zoo in 1660 to see a lion named Crowly who was very tame.

Should you happen to be wandering near Seething Lane Garden where Pepys had his home you can find a carving of a lion.

https://symbolsandsecrets.london/2021/05/20/monkeys-and-lions-in-seething-lane/

The Tower of London has had a menagerie since the 1200s – which is definitely medieval. In medieval times, in order to get into the Tower visitors would have to cross a drawbridge to the lion tower built by King Edward I in about 1275 before entering. The tower was demolished during the Victorian period . In addition to lions the barbican also housed leopards.

Eventually it came to be believed, so it is said, that if a lion died someone in the royal family was about to die. The rumour was given credibility when a lioness died in 1603 shortly followed by Queen Elizabeth I.

Comets in English history and beyond -harbingers of disaster, disease and death

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Bayeux_Tapestry_scene32_Halley_comet_closeup.jpgHalley’s Comet made an appearance in 1066.  Chinese scholars had been noting its appearance since 240BC so Western Europe was a bit late to the party.  The Babylonians were in on the act as well.

The English thought that the comet was an omen for war in 1066.  William the Conqueror was much more optimistic he called it a “wonderful sign from Heaven” but then he’d taken the precaution of giving a daughter to the Church and persuading the Pope to call his invasion of England a crusade.

As luck would have it I am also in the midst of the seventeenth century at the moment so was mildly delighted when I came across Samuel Pepys account of a comet in 1664 seen above London.

So to the Coffeehouse, where great talke of the Comet seen in several places; and among our men at sea, and by my Lord Sandwic, to whom I intend to write about it to-night.

Sir Isaac Newton, a student at the time, searched the skies for the comet and Pepys hoped to see it for himself, not least because it had caused a plethora of prophesies – oddly none of them positive!

Mighty talke there of this Comet that is seen a ’night; and the King and the Queene did sit up last night to see it, and did, it seems. And to-night I thought to have done so too, but it is cloudy and so no stars appear. But I will endeavor it (December 17).

My lord Sandwich this day writes me word That he hath seen (at Portsmouth) the Comet, And says it is the most extraordinary thing that Ever he saw. (December 21)

Daniel Defoe mentions it as well in his Journal of a Plague Year – which despite appearances to the contrary is a secondary rather than a primary source.

120px-Tiger_Tail_Star_1665-01-10Essentially the Normans and the Londoners who saw the comets in 1066, 1664 and 1665 (there were two rather than one prior to the plague and Great Fire of London) believed that they were fiery messengers of the heavens – a direct line from God.  They were an indication of his irritation with humanity and a heavy hint that something extremely unpleasant was bound to follow.  If it wasn’t fire, war and plague then someone important was bound to die.

It wasn’t long before the doom mongers were proven correct in both 1066 and 1664.  In 1066 Harold Hardrada and William of Normandy both took the opportunity to launch an invasion of England.  In 1664 people started dying rather unpleasantly from the plague and let’s not forget that there were two comets so that covers the Great Fire of London as well.

Bill+Of+Mortality+From+1665+London.jpegThe plague began in Yarmouth in the winter of 1664.  By Christmas the disease had spread to London.  The weekly Bills of Mortality were about to become extremely depressing. Not that it was a surprise.  In 1065 the plague was endemic in England.  On average it put in an appearance every couple of decades.  There had been an outbreak in 1603 which rather quelled James I’s coronation celebrations.  In 1625 – the year James had died approximately twenty percent of London’s population had succumbed to the disease. The first official mortality of the 1665 outbreak was in St Giles in the Fields – plague and typhus started to take their toll the numbers recorded on the Bills of Mortality began to rise.  The Great Comet prophecy had been fulfilled – plague had arrived.

And just so we’re clear that fiery stars caused panic amongst the population here are a few more examples.  In 1456 the Ottoman Empire invaded Hungary –  their arrival pre-ordained by Halley’s Comet.  Pope Callixtus III ordered prayers to be said in an effort to counter-act the comet.

Halley’s Comet turned up in 1910 – slightly early for World War One and even the sinking of the Titanic.  Despite the fact that by the beginning of the twentieth century scientists had given the world a better understanding of what a comet was they could still cause chaos.  In 1908 for example panic broke out in Chicago because people thought that the comet they saw (Moorhouse’s Comet) signalled the end of the world and in 1910 when Halley’s comet arrived you could purchase an umbrella to protect you from the comet – which was slightly optimistic as some scientists believed that the tail of the comet was filled with poison gas that would kill everyone when the Earth passed through it.

Obviously Halley’s comet didn’t kill everyone – that would be silly.  No, it was just a sign that Edward VII was going to pop his clogs on 6th May in Buckingham Palace – not from comet miasma but from bronchitis.  He was a man in his seventies  who had over indulged for most of his adult life and who smoked heavily.  It probably didn’t require a comet to predict his death.

And finally Giotto managed to paint Halley’s Comet as the Star of Bethlehem in 1305 – always nice to see a more positive construction of its appearance. The painting can be seen at the Scovegni Chapel in Padua.

halley-comet-as-nativity.jpg

Great Fire of London

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pepysOn the 2nd September 1666, the Great Fire of London officially got to grips with the city.  Thomas Farriner had retired to bed thinking that his bakehouse fire had been damped down.  At 1.00am his servant discovered that the bakehouse was on fire.  The inhabitants of Pudding Lane were the first to have to flee as the flames consumed their homes.  Farriner’s family were forced to escape over the roofs but a maid was too scared to go with them so became the first known victim of the fire.  At 3.00am Samuel Pepys was awoken by his maid with news that a fire could be seen but he was unalarmed and went back to sleep again.  Famously he would bury his valuables including a large cheese in order to save them from the fire.

Unfortunately in a wooden framed town with thatched roofs and much else made from wood, fire was commonplace so initially the fire was just treated as any other old fire.  Unfortunately the summer had been hot and long and the wind was in the right direction.  By the afternoon the fire had spread as well as the rumour that the Dutch or French had set fire to the city and large numbers of people were fleeing for their lives.  Incredibly only ten or so people were recorded as being killed in the fire which destroyed four hundred (ish) streets.  John Evelyn said that he saw 10,000 houses on fire.

Extract from Pepys’ diary:

Some of our maids sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast today, Jane called up about three in the morning, to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City. So I rose, and slipped on my night-gown and went to her window, and thought it to be on the back side of Mark Lane at the farthest; but, being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off, and so went to bed again, and to sleep. . . . By and by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above 300 houses have been burned down tonight by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish Street, by London Bridge. So I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower; and there got up upon one of the high places, . . .and there I did see the houses at the end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side . . . of the bridge. . . .

 

Initially it was up to the Londoners themselves to put themselves out.  By the third day houses were being demolished in a bid to create a fire wall.  It was only when the wind dropped however that the fire was contained. Ultimately the fire was contained on the third day but some 13,000 houses were destroyed along with 87 churches and key landmarks.  The Stationers Company were particularly devastated by the loss of Old St Paul’s as they had moved their books there for safety thinking it was too substantial to be destroyed by fire.

 

https://www.pepysdiary.com 

23 December – Of Samuel Pepys, three nuns, a turkey and that man Cromwell.

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pepysWith only two days of my metaphorical advent calendar to go I really should be getting a bit more festive – so with no further ado allow mw to introduce the turkey – property of one Samuel Pepys. In 1660 Mrs Pepys was troubled by the art of spit roasting the aforementioned bird. In fact you can read every single 23rd December that Pepys ever recorded should you feel the urge by following the link:

http://samuelpepystoday.com/?day=1123

 

A swift search of the net reveals that in the UK ten million turkeys are eaten each Christmas. I had thought it was a relative new comer to the Christmas table. After all, you only have to think of Ebenezer Scrooge and the prize goose that graced the Cratchets’ table to realise that the turkey has not always been the bird of choice but apparently, and I really am sorry about this because I had hoped to avoid him today, that the first turkey arrived in England in 1526 and, yes, the first monarch to eat turkey was Henry VIII though it was Edward VII who made them into a popular festive meal.  For more about festive birds read the History Extra article here.

Since it’s proved impossible to bypass the terrible Tudor I should probably also mention that Dr Legh, one of Cromwell’s monastic visitors, was wandering around Huntingdonshire on his way north on the 23 December 1535. He took it upon himself to visit Hinchinbrooke  Priory.  Sadly the prioress, Alice Wilton, was very unwell and the sight of Legh was enough to finish her off.  Legh promptly took charge of the keys and the money coffers before asking Cromwell what he should do next.

There being only three nuns in addition to the prioress and it being a poor establishment the priory was swiftly suppressed. Ownership passed on to Richard  Cromwell who was the son of Morgan Williams who married Katherine Cromwell, Thomas Cromwell’s sister. Richard took his uncle’s name and benefited from his uncle’s patronage to the tune of several large chunks of monastic land including Hinchinbrooke Priory and Ramsey Abbey.  Hinchinbrooke was to become famous as the birthplace a couple generations down the line of  Oliver Cromwell.
‘Henry VIII: December 1535, 21-25’, in Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 9, August-December 1535, ed. James Gairdner (London, 1886), pp. 340-350. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/letters-papers-hen8/vol9/pp340-350 [accessed 6 December 2016].

‘Houses of Benedictine monks: The priory of Hinchinbrook’, in A History of the County of Huntingdon: Volume 1, ed. William Page, Granville Proby and H E Norris (London, 1926), pp. 389-390. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/hunts/vol1/pp389-390 [accessed 7 November 2016].

A captain, a cupboard and a viking – a cupboard full of Hubbards

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charlesCaptain John Hubbard served upon seven royal naval vessels during the reign of Charles II when the country was at war with the Dutch.  In 1665 he commanded the Happy Return at the Battle of Lowestoft which saw a great victory.  In 1666 he was made captain of the Royal Charles, previously known as the Naseby (and one of Cromwell’s most prized vessels).   The following year he  joined the Rupert; then the Plymouth, the Milford, and the Assistance.  It was while on the Assistance that Captain John Hubbard was killed in action against some Algerine corsairs.  Pepys talks about Hubbard being killed as a result of being overly brave.

The Royal Charles became one of the Royal Navy’s biggest shames.  The Dutch fleet sailed up the Thames to Chatham in 1667.  They cut the flagship from the fleet and carried it away.  The ship was the Royal Charles.

But on to Old Mother Hubbard who went to the cupboard.  According to the rhyme she was going to fetch her doggy a bone. Of course the cupboard was bare.   Apparently Old Mother Hubbard was, in fact, Cardinal Wolsey, making the cupboard in this instance the Catholic Church.  The doggy (a.k.a. King Henry VIII) wanted an annulment from his queen – Katherine of Aragon – which was not forthcoming because the Pope found himself under the watchful eye of Katherine’s nephew.

That just leaves the viking.  Hubba the Horrible or Ubba was a brother of Ivar the Boneless and Halfdan. There is another school of thought that says it is a name that made its appearance with the Normans.  Whatever the case Internet research suggests that anyone with the surname Hubbard, Hubbert or Hobart is descended from one John Hubba who is recorded as living in Suffolk in 1274.  His family possibly descended from “Euro, filius Huberti” who can be found in the Domesday Book and who appear to have some familial link to William the Conqueror but I need to do much more research as yet.

All exciting stuff – but made even more so by the fact that, in so far as I can rely on parish records,  Captain John Hubbard is my eight times great grandfather…