Louis XIV., King of France:

By MIGNARD.

Born, 1638. Died, 1715.—The son of Louis XIII., by Anne of Austria, who was Regent during her son’s minority, though the real power was vested in Cardinal Mazarin. In this prelate’s lifetime, the King himself interfered little in public affairs, but at his death, in 1661, Louis determined to be his own Prime Minister. He married Maria Theresa, daughter of Philip IV., King of Spain. His reign was brilliant in arts, commerce, and arms, but disgraced by immorality.

As regards the exterior of the “Great Monarch,” his sister-in-law, (the Duke of Orleans’ second wife, a Princess of Bavaria,) thus describes him: “Personne n’avoit un si beau port, un aspect noble, la voix trÈs agrÉable, et des maniÈres aisÉes. Quand il Étoit dans la foule, on n’avoit pas besoin, de demander qui Étoit le Roi.”

Henry William, First Marquis of Anglesey, K.G.:

By the HON. HENRY GRAVES.

Full-Length.

Born, 1768. Died, 1854.—Henry William Paget, the eldest child of the first Earl of Uxbridge, by the eldest daughter of Arthur ChampagnÉ, Dean of Clonmacnoise. Lord Paget was educated at Westminster, and Christ Church, and in 1793, he raised a regiment among his father’s tenantry, (the 80th Regiment of Foot, or Staffordshire Volunteers,) afterwards eminently distinguished in foreign service. At the head of his own regiment, Lord Paget joined H.R.H. the Duke of York in Flanders, and soon gave proofs of skill, and gallantry. At Turcoing, he was remarkable for his “dashing bravery,” and in the memorable retreat of Bois-le-duc, which took place under great difficulties, and during intensely cold weather, Lord Paget, then only twenty-six years of age, gained great honour, and replaced Lord Cathcart at the head of the Brigade, during that nobleman’s temporary absence. After several exchanges, and promotions, he was appointed to the command of the seventh Light Dragoons, which was stationed at Ipswich with other bodies of cavalry, for drill. Here he laid the foundation of that system of discipline, which brought about an entire reform in cavalry practice. In 1790-6, he sat in Parliament.

In 1799, he accompanied the Duke of York to Holland, where he again distinguished himself, on several occasions. He became a Major-General in 1802, and a Lieutenant-General in 1808. Towards the end of this year, he was ordered to Spain, with two Brigades of cavalry, where he remained until the autumn of 1809, having reaped fresh laurels, in innumerable engagements. On his return, a piece of plate was presented to him, by the Prince Regent, the Duke of Cumberland, and the inscribed officers of the Hussar Brigade, who served under Lord Paget, “in token of their admiration of his high military acquirements, and of the courage, and talent, constantly displayed in leading the Hussars to victory against the French cavalry, during the Peninsular Campaign of 1808.”

He sate in the House of Commons, till 1812, when the death of his father, removed him to the Upper House. In 1815, he was employed with the troops assembled in London, to quell the Corn Bill riots, but he was soon appointed to a nobler office, and left England in command of the cavalry of the Anglo-Belgian army. His name is well known in conjunction with the great day at Waterloo: and well did he sustain “the honour of the Household Troops,” which was his rallying cry to his men, in the frequent charges they made, on the enemy. Almost the last shot that was fired wounded our gallant soldier in the knee; amputation was considered necessary, and the leg that was ever in advance, was buried with honour, in a garden at Waterloo.

Five days after the battle, he was raised to the Marquisate, by the title of Anglesey. He was also created Knight of many Orders, both British, and foreign. He rode as Lord High Steward, at the Coronation of George IV., became a Privy Councillor, was twice Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, where he was deservedly popular. He held several high posts under Government at home, and at his death was the only Field Marshal in the English Army, with the exception of Her Majesty’s Consort, and her uncle.

“It was the peculiarity,” was said of Lord Anglesey, “of his frank nature to make itself understood; it might almost be said his character could be read off at sight; he was the express image of chivalry. His politics were so liberal, as to be called radical in those days, for he was in the advance of his age; but the measures which were then opposed have since been extolled, and carried, such as Catholic Emancipation, Reform, Free Trade, etc. He was not a ‘speaker,’ and could not talk well, of what he did well.” His administration of the Ordnance Department, was remarkable for its scrupulous justice, and he was always the soldier’s true friend.

On the death of the Duke of Gordon, King William IV. offered Lord Anglesey the command of the Scots Fusilier Guards. He sought an interview with the King, and after warmly expressing his gratitude, he added: “I am sure that in naming me to this honour, your Majesty has not borne in mind, the fact that Lord Ludlow lost an arm in Holland, at the head of this regiment.” The King was delighted with this proof of generosity, and Lord Ludlow had to thank his comrade, for the regiment.

Till past three score, Lord Anglesey retained a wonderful share of vigour, and activity, in spite of the loss of his limb, and the terrible nervous sufferings entailed thereby. In his last moments the ruling passion showed itself, for when his mind wandered for a few moments, the gallant veteran would enquire what brigade was on duty, and he appeared relieved, when they answered it was not his own. His death was serene; his bedroom, and the one adjoining crowded by relatives, and his last words to them were cheering.

Lord Anglesey married first in 1795, Lady Caroline Villiers, daughter of the Earl of Jersey, from whom he was divorced. She re-married the Duke of Argyll, and died in 1835. By his first wife he had three sons, of whom the eldest succeeded him, and five daughters. His second wife was the daughter of Earl Cadogan, whose marriage with Lord Cowley had been dissolved. She died in 1853: by whom he had three sons and three daughters, of whom the second, became the Countess of Sandwich.

This portrait was painted by Lord Anglesey’s nephew, the Hon. Henry Graves.

William, Duke of Cumberland:

By SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

Full-Length.

Born, 1721. Died, 1765.—The third son of George II., King of England, by Carolina Wilhelmina, daughter of the Margrave of Anspach. In 1743, he was wounded by the side of his father, at the Battle of Dettingen; he was unsuccessful at Fontenoy. His name is ever coupled with the discomfiture of Charles Edward’s forces in Scotland, and their entire defeat, at the Battle of Culloden. He gained a name for severity, and cruelty, during this campaign, and is still remembered in the north as “Billy the Butcher.”

This fine portrait was presented by H.R.H., to John, fourth Earl of Sandwich, with whom he formed a friendship, at the time of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle.

Maria Theresa, Queen of France:

By MIGNARD.

Born, 1638. Married, 1660. Died, 1683.—Daughter of Philip IV., King of Spain, by his first wife, Elizabeth of France. Mazarin arranged this marriage to ensure peace. The Duke de Grammont went to Madrid, as Plenipotentiary in 1659, and thus addressed the King of Spain: “Sire, le Roi mon maÎtre vous accorde la paix, et À vous, Madame, il offre son coeur, et sa couronne.” She accepted both, but was compelled to share the first, with innumerable rivals. Gentle, modest, loving, and sensitive, she was constantly insulted by the King’s favourites; yet her devotion to him, never wavered, and a kind word from her royal master, made her happy for the rest of the day. He appointed her Regent, when he went to Holland, but she was not fitted for public life. “To serve God, and honour the King,” was her golden rule. Madame d’OrlÉans, (the German Princess), one of the other few good women of that age, pays her sister-in-law, this tribute: “Elle Étoit d’une extrÊme simplicitÉ en tout; la femme la plus vertueuse, et la meilleure, du monde. Elle avoit de la grandeur, et elle savoit reprÉsenter, et tenir sa cour; elle avoit une foi entiÈre, et sans rÉserve pour tout ce que le Roi lui disoit. Le Roi l’aimoit À cause de sa vertu, et de l’ardent amour qu’elle lui a constamment conservÉ, quoiqu’il lui fÛt infidÈle.” On her return from an expedition she had made, with her husband to Alsace and Bourgogne, the Queen fell ill and died. “VoilÀ,” observed “le Grand Monarque” on that occasion, “le premier chagrin qu’elle m’ait donnÉ.” Had she been the survivor, she could not assuredly have paid Louis a similar tribute.

These two portraits, formed part of the collection of the celebrated “Capability Brown.”

John William, Seventh Earl of Sandwich:

By LUCAS.

Born, 1811. Educated at Trinity College, Cambridge; was Captain of the Corps of Gentlemen-at-Arms, in 1852, and Master of the Buckhounds, 1858-9. Colonel of the Huntingdon Rifle Militia, and High Steward of Huntingdon, Lord Lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum of Huntingdonshire. Married first; Lady Mary Paget, daughter of the first Marquis of Anglesey, by whom he had four sons and two daughters, and who died in 1859. He married secondly, Lady Blanche Egerton, daughter of the first Earl of Ellesmere.

Mrs. Ruperta Howe:

By WISSING or MYTENS.

Full-Length.

Born, 1671. Died, 1741.—The natural daughter of Prince Rupert, third son of Frederick, King of Bohemia, “a studious Prince,” who being enraptured with Mrs. Hughes, a beautiful actress, bade adieu to alembics, mathematical instruments, and chemical speculations, to subdue the heart of the “impertinent gipsy.” At his death the Prince left the whole of his property in trust, with a beautiful estate he had purchased on purpose, for the use, and behoof of Mistress Hughes and their daughter. Ruperta married Emanuel Scrope Howe, Esq., the second son of John Howe, Co. Gloucester, by Arabella, natural daughter of Emanuel Scrope, Baron Bolton, and Earl of Sunderland, to whom Charles II. granted the precedence of an Earl’s daughter, lawfully begotten. The husband of Ruperta was in the army, and rose to the rank of Brigadier-General. He was Groom of the Bedchamber to Queen Anne, and in 1707, went as Envoy to the Court of Hanover. He represented Morpeth, and Wigan, in Parliament, and died in 1709, having had issue three sons, William, Emanuel, and James, and one daughter, Maid of Honour to Caroline, Princess of Wales, (afterwards Queen). She died unmarried. This picture is mentioned in Noble, but the painter’s name is not given.

John, Fourth Earl of Sandwich:

By JOHN LIOTARD.

Full-Length.

Born, 1718. Died, 1792.—he was the son of Edward, Viscount Hinchingbrook, by Elizabeth Popham. Educated at Eton, and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he distinguished himself. In 1738, he set out on his travels through Italy, Egypt, Turkey, etc., accompanied by some friends, during which time he made a collection of coins, and antiquities, of all kinds, some of which, he presented to the University of Cambridge. He wrote a book of his travels, and on his return to England, took his seat in the House of Lords, and entered on a political life. He spoke remarkably well in Parliament, and in 1744 became a Lord of the Admiralty under the Duke of Bedford, “into whose favour” says a contemporary with much acrimony, “Lord Sandwich had ingratiated himself, by cricket matches, acting of plays, and intrigues.” But Horace Walpole, although he did not appear very friendly to Lord Sandwich, is constantly compelled to do him justice, in his public capacity. “He is a lively, sensible man, and very attentive to business;” and on the famous occasion of Wilkes’ libel, he again says: “I do not admire politicians, but when they are excellent in their way, give them their due; no one but Lord Sandwich could have struck a stroke like this.”

In 1746, he was appointed Plenipotentiary to the States General, and again at the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, where he distinguished himself, in such a manner as to recommend him for high offices of trust, on his return to England. It was on this occasion, that at a large international dinner, toasts were passing, and the different Envoys became poetical, as well as loyal in their phraseology. The Frenchman gave “his Royal Master the Sun, who illuminates the whole world;” the Spaniard “his Master the Moon, scarcely inferior in brilliancy or influence;” when Lord Sandwich rose, doubtless with the twinkle in his eye, and the laughing curl round the corners of his mouth, we see in most of his portraits, and toasted with all the honours “his Master Joshua, who made both the sun and moon to stand still.”

During the King’s absence from England, Sandwich was chosen one of the Commissioners of Government. He was also Vice-treasurer, Receiver-general, &c., for Ireland, and under the new King George III, was nominated Ambassador to Spain; but in the same year he succeeded George Grenville as First Lord of the Admiralty. Few men ever filled that office with more ability, and under his direction the maritime force of Great Britain, was kept on such a footing as enabled us to meet our numerous foes in every quarter of the globe with honour, and ensured to us the victories we gained over the Trench, Spaniards, and Dutch. Lord Sandwich was world-famed for his regularity, dispatch, and industry in business; it is said that he invented sandwiches in order to take some nourishment without interrupting his work.

The following lines were written on him and Lord Spencer:—

He gained the name of “Jemmy Twitcher,” through a curious circumstance. Wilkes and Sandwich had once been friends, but the former having composed a scurrilous and disloyal poem, the latter was so incensed as to procure a copy and read it aloud, in the House of Lords. Just at this juncture the “Beggar’s Opera” was being acted, and when Macheath exclaimed: “But that Jemmy Twitcher should peach, I own surprises me,” the chief part of the audience, who were partisans of “Wilkes, and Liberty,” burst into a round of applause, applying the passage to Lord Sandwich, who never afterwards lost the soubriquet.

There are many passages in his life which compel us to agree with his constant censor Horace Walpole, when he says: “Bishop Warburton is at this moment reinstating Mr. Pitt’s name in the dedication of a Book of Sermons, which he had expunged for Sandwich’s. This nobleman is an agreeable companion, but one whose moral character, does not exactly fit him to be the patron of sermons.” But Mr. Cradock (and none knew him better) in his most amusing reminiscences, tells us, whatever his errors may have been, Lord Sandwich was most severe in the observance of decorous language, and behaviour, under his roof. No oath, or profligate word, was ever uttered at his table. The same authority states, that in political life he underwent many persecutions, and bore daily insults, and misrepresentations with the courage of a stoic, without stooping to retaliation. “Others,” says Mr. Cradock, “received emoluments, but Lord Sandwich retired without any remuneration, for his services.” His public career lasted for more than half a century, when he made Hinchingbrook his chief abode. He spoke French and Italian fluently, was acquainted with the German, and Spanish languages, and had a smattering of the oriental tongues.

In the midst of all his hospitality, he was very frugal in his own living, and was much beloved by his dependants, not forgetting Omai the Otaheitan, and the faithful black servant, Jemmy, who lies buried in Brompton Churchyard, and a characteristic little sketch of whom still exists. An amusing incident occurred respecting the latter, which is worth recording. It seems that on one occasion, the day after some dramatic representation had taken place at Hinchingbrook, Lord Sandwich enquired at breakfast of a gentleman who was proverbial for cavilling, and finding fault, whether he had been satisfied with the performance. The visitor answered in the affirmative, but in so hesitating a manner, that Lord Sandwich insisted on knowing the fault. “So slight, my Lord, scarcely worth alluding to.” “The easier remedied next time.” “Well, it only struck me, that the coloured servant in the piece was not sufficiently blackened.” The noble host rose silently and rang the bell: enter Jemmy. “Jemmy,” says his master, “this gentleman says you are not black enough.” “I bery sorry, my Lord, I be as God Almighty made me.”

Miss Burney, in her youth, saw Lord Sandwich, and thus describes him: “He is a tall stout man, and looks as furrowed and weatherbeaten as any sailor in the Navy; and, like most of the old set of that brave tribe, he has the marks of good nature, and joviality in every feature.” Another contemporary gives him this character: “Slow, not wearisome, a man of sense, rather than of talent; good-natured, and reliable as to promises. His house was filled with rank, beauty and talent, and every one felt at ease there. The patron of musicians, the soul of the Catch Club [he might have added a proficient on the kettledrum], although deficient in ear, and knowledge of harmony.” He had an engaging manner in private life, which put every one at their ease, although he occasionally tried his friends’ patience by a playful bantering, or what Mr. Cradock calls badgering, such as; “Ladies, here is Cradock says, a man cannot be punctual unless he wears a wig.” “No, my Lord, I said a man may be punctual, but his hair dresser may be late, and make him so.”

He dressed well, and looked “noble,” but he had a shambling unequal gait. When in Paris he took dancing lessons, and, bidding his master good-bye, told him if he came to London, he would willingly recommend or serve him. “Ah, milor,” said the man, “pray do not say I taught you to dance.”

Lord Sandwich retained his faculties almost to the end, and spoke with great clearness and precision, of all the remarkable public events, of which he had been a witness, in his stirring life. He was an F.R.S., a Governor of the Charterhouse, the eldest of the elder Brothers of the Trinity House, and the oldest General in the army.

In 1740, he married Judith, third daughter of Charles, Viscount Fane, of Basildon, Berks. The marriage was unhappy, and they were separated for several years before her death. Their children were: John, who succeeded him, Edward, William Augustus, and one daughter, Mary. Lord Sandwich died at his house in Hertford Street, Mayfair, in 1792.

Edward, First Earl of Sandwich:

By SIR PETER LELY.

Full Length.

Mariana, Queen Regent of Spain:

By SEBASTIAN HERRERA.

Full Length.

Born, 1631. Died, 1696.—The eldest daughter of Ferdinand III., Emperor of Germany, by the daughter of Philip III., King of Spain. Married Philip IV., in 1649. On her arrival in Spain, as a youthful bride, Mariana’s deportment had to undergo severe discipline, from the strict etiquette of the court, and the stern dignity of her royal husband, whom she shocked by the exuberance of her animal spirits, and above all, her immoderate laughter at the sallies of the Court Fool. When admonished on one occasion, she excused herself by saying it was out of her power to restrain her merriment, and that the Jester must be removed, or she must laugh on. Mariana was remarkable for the extravagance and tawdriness of her dress, as may be seen in the portraits by Velasquez. Her chief beauty consisted in her magnificent hair, which she disfigured by dressing it, in an outrageous manner, with feathers, flowers, and love knots. At a period when rouge was much worn, the immoderate use of it, made her “brick-dust cheeks” a ridiculous object, and altogether, says Stirling: “She is far more interesting wearing the widow’s weeds, in which she sate to Carreno, and Herrera, than in the butterfly garb in which she flaunts on the canvas of Velasquez.” She was as inferior to her predecessor, Isabelle de Bourbon, Philip’s first wife, in qualities of mind, as in graces of person. She became a widow; and Regent of the Kingdom, on the accession of her son Charles II., in 1665.

Mariana divided her confidence, between her confessor, a German Jesuit, and a gentleman of her household, Valenzuela by name. He was remarkably handsome; and the Queen Mother made a marriage between him, and one of her German ladies, which established him in her Palace, where he became her chief confidant, and was admitted to her apartments at all hours, his wife being generally present, to avoid scandal. Mariana’s faction was strongly opposed by Don John of Austria, the late King’s natural son, (by the beautiful actress, Maria Calderona.) He was handsome, intellectual, and accomplished, and in military genius alone, was he inferior to his namesake, the hero of Lepanto. His father loved him dearly, but the Queen had contrived to estrange them, some little time before Philip’s death. The ups and downs of the struggle between Don John, and Mariana were never ending: now her star appeared in the ascendant, then the evil repute of her confessor, his inefficiency in business, and the overbearing insolence of Valenzuela, brought down the influence of the Regent to a low ebb. Now at open variance with her husband’s son, now consenting with a bad grace to his participation in the Government, and then procuring for him an office at some distance from Madrid, so as to be rid of his immediate presence.

Don John ruled well, and held a little Court at Saragossa, but he and the Regent were always at variance, and so disgusted were the people with her government, and that of her favourites, that many clamoured for Don John, while some went so far as to say he was the rightful heir, and that Mariana’s and Maria Calderona’s infants, had been changed.

Whether from motives of patriotism or ambition, Don John worked steadily to undermine the Regent’s power, and the vanity and ostentation of Valenzuela contributed unconsciously to the same end. He was generally supposed to be a spy, and was called the Queen’s “Duendo.”[1] At tournaments he wore the Queen Mother’s colours of black and silver, with many ostentatious mottos, which seemed to insinuate the high favour, in which he stood with that Royal Lady. One day, when the Court were hunting near the Escurial, the King shot at a stag, and wounded Valenzuela in the thigh, whereat Queen Mariana shrieked, and fell senseless. On this “hint” many spake, especially Don John, and his party, who told the King plainly, that he and Spain were not only governed by the Regent, but by her paramour. The King went to Buen Retiro, and denied himself to his mother, who was desired to leave Madrid; Valenzuela was arrested, his wife and children shut up in a convent, and the “handsome, vain, well-dressed courtier, with his fine curling locks, who had considered many of the nobles of Spain beneath his notice,” was sent off to the Philippine Islands. Don John came into power, and Mariana had a small Court, which was little better than a prison, at Aranjuez, where Madame d’Aulnoy visited her. She was dressed in the manner of this portrait, served on the bended knee, and waited on by a hideous little dwarf, clothed in gold and silver brocade. Don John’s government was no sinecure; cabals were rife, and he died so suddenly that it was currently reported that he had been poisoned, at Mariana’s instigation. Be that as it may, no sooner was the death of Don John announced, than the King went off to his mother, in person, and insisted on her return to Madrid.

Charles II. had just married his second wife, an alliance which Mariana had supported from the beginning. But she did not long survive; shortly after the Peace of Ryswick, died Mariana of Austria, Queen Mother of Spain; her death was supposed to have been hastened by her reluctance to consult the physicians, although her health had been failing for some time past.

This interesting portrait, together with that of her son, King Charles II., was presented by the Queen Mother, then Regent, to Edward, first Earl of Sandwich, when Ambassador, to the Court of Madrid, in 1666.

Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland:

By SIR PETER LELY.

Full-length.

Born, 1640. Died, 1709.—The only child of William Villiers, Viscount Grandison, by Mary, third daughter of the first, and sister and co-heiress of the second Viscount Bayning.

Lord Grandison, of whom Clarendon gives an exalted character for piety, loyalty, and valour; died in 1643, at Oxford, (of a wound which he had received a few weeks before, at the siege of Bristol), leaving a widow of 18, who five years afterwards, was re-married to Charles Villiers, Earl of Anglesey, cousin-german to her first husband. She did not long survive, and at her death, left her beautiful daughter to the stepfather’s care. It was under Lord Anglesey’s roof, that Barbara passed her early years, and we hear of her, on her first arrival in London, dressed in “a plain and countrified manner,” but this fashion was soon changed for the last “mode” of the town, and her surpassing beauty made her the object of general admiration. At the age of 16, the precocious coquette had already captivated Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield, a young widower, who had just returned from his travels, and succeeded to his title, and property—“a beauty, a wit, a duellist,” and according to Swift, “the greatest knave in England.” His correspondence with Barbara, and her confidante and cousin, Lady Anne Hamilton (which was found in the Library of Bath House, in 1869), breathes the most ardent passion, which did not however, interfere with his being called three times in Church, the same year, with the daughter of Lord Fairfax, (who subsequently married George, Duke of Buckingham).

So early in life had Barbara embarked in a career of guilt, and artifice, that in spite of her liaison with Chesterfield, she threw her spells to such purpose round Master Roger Palmer, student of the Middle Temple, second son of Sir James Palmer, of Hayes, Middlesex, that the misguided youth married her in spite of the paternal prohibition. But the young wife did not break off her connection with her former lover, and not long after her marriage, she writes to Chesterfield, in a most affectionate manner, speaking of her recovery from the small-pox, and alluding to “Mounseer’s” (Mr. Palmer) jealousy, and how “he is resolved never to bring me to towne again.” Lord Chesterfield, in consequence of killing a young man in a duel, was compelled to fly the country, and he took refuge at Paris, at the Court of the Queen Mother (Henrietta Maria), and afterwards joined the English King, at Breda, where he solicited, and received the royal pardon, and returned to England with Charles on his restoration: all the time he was on the continent, keeping up his correspondence with his adored Barbara.

There exists great difference of opinion, as to the date of the first meeting between the King, and Mistress Palmer, but there seems little doubt that the favourite’s reign began on Charles’s eventful day, the 29th of May, 1660. Mr. Palmer, now a member of Parliament, had a house in King Street, Westminster, close to the Palace, as also to the lodgings of the Earl of Sandwich, whose housekeeper, “Sarah,” supplied his lordship’s cousin, and daily visitor, Mr. Pepys, with abundant gossip. The far-famed diary abounds in anecdotes of Barbara, praises of her beauty, alternating with blame of her conduct, but every word shewing the fascination she exercised over the writer. The Earl of Anglesey died in 1660-61: and about the same time a daughter was born to Mistress Palmer, which was the occasion of much scandal. [Roger Palmer was now raised to the title of Earl of Castlemaine, and Baron Limerick]. In 1662 Charles II. married Catherine of Braganza, but “Sarah” informed Pepys, that the King supped every night in the week preceding his nuptials, with Lady Castlemaine: “Likewise, when the whole street was aglow with bonfires, the night of the Queen’s arrival, there was no fire at my lady’s door.” On the birth of a second child a dreadful altercation took place between the husband, and wife, but the feud was ostensibly a religious one, for Lord Castlemaine, who had lately embraced the Roman Catholic faith, caused the infant to be baptized by a Popish Priest. Madam was furious, and, as usual, victorious in her struggles, and a few days afterwards “Charles” was re-baptized by a Protestant Minister, in the presence of his godfathers, the King, Lord Oxford, &c. Shortly after this event, Lady Castlemaine left her lord, carrying with her all her plate, and valuables. “They say,” writes Pepys, “that his Lordship is gone to France, to enter a Monastery.”

On the appointment of the Ladies of the Bedchamber to the Queen, Lady Sandwich was justified in her fear, “that the King would still keep in, with Lady Castlemaine.” A great commotion occurred, in the old Palace of Hampton Court. The Queen had never mentioned the favourite’s name; therefore Charles hoped she was ignorant of her rival’s existence; but when the list of the proposed Ladies of the Bedchamber, was submitted to her Majesty, Catherine deliberately pricked out the name of my Lady Castlemaine, which much disturbed her husband. By the King’s command, Lord Clarendon, sorely against his inclination, waited on Her Majesty, to try and induce her to cancel her refusal, but the Queen “was much discontented with her husband,” and declared that rather than submit to the insult, she would desire to return to her own country. Lady Castlemaine through an artifice however, approached her Royal mistress, and kissed her hand; who, on discovering the trick, fell into a swoon, and was carried from the apartment. The King was furious; the Queen for a while appeared inflexible, but Charles gained his point in the end, for after some time had elapsed, Barbara’s appointment was confirmed, and from that time forth, the Queen, by some strange persuasion, or obedience to the King’s orders, treated her rival with familiarity, and confidence; “was,” says Pepys, “merry with her in public, and in private used nobody more friendly.” But then, according to the same authority, “the Queen is a most good lady, and takes all, with the greatest meekness that may be.”

The syren seems indeed to have bewitched every one, Dryden himself did not disdain to write a poem in her honour. On one occasion the Countess had a violent altercation, with “la belle Stewart,” Maid of Honour, who had excited her jealousy, and the King, taking part against her, the imperious lady walked off to her uncle’s at Richmond, whither Charles soon followed her, on pretence of hunting, but really to ask pardon. Not long after, however, Pepys saw her on horseback, with the King, the Queen, Mistress Stewart, etc.; but he thought the King looked coldly on her, “and when she had to ’light, nobody pressed to take her down, but her own gentleman, and she looked, though handsome, mighty out of humour, and had a yellow plume in her hat.” A report reached the Queen’s ears, that Barbara had turned Papist, but though a zealot in her religion, Catherine “did not much like it, as she did not believe it was done for conscience sake.” Perhaps her Majesty agreed, with the learned Divine who said that “if the Church of Rome had got no more by Lady Castlemaine, than the Church of England had lost, the matter was not much.”

A curious, and unpleasant adventure befell Lady Castlemaine, in the Park, returning from a visit to the Duchess of York at St. James’s Palace, attended only by her maid, and a little page. She was accosted by three gentlemen in masks, who upbraided her in the strongest language, and reminded her that the mistress of Edward IV. had died of starvation, on a dunghill, abandoned by all the world. The infuriated and terrified beauty no sooner reached home, than she swooned; the King ran to the rescue, ordered the gates of the Park to be shut, but it was too late—several arrests were made, but no discovery ensued.

In the year of the Plague, the Court being at Oxford, Lady Castlemaine gave birth to a son, at Merton College. The lady and the King had high words on the occasion of the Duke of Buckingham being sent to the Tower, she speaking up boldly, in his behalf, Charles saying she was a jade that meddled in matters she had nothing to do with; she retorting that he was “a fool to suffer his business to be carried on by fools,” and so forth. But before five days had elapsed the Duke was at liberty. Lady Castlemaine was a determined enemy to Chancellor Clarendon, and she had declared in the Queen’s chamber, she hoped to see his head upon a stake to keep company with those of the Regicides, and there is no doubt she was instrumental in procuring the downfall of the King’s “faithful and able adviser.” Gambling was another vice in which Barbara indulged, and Pepys tells us she won £15,000, one night, and lost £25,000 another. But her favour was on the wane: she was libelled, and abused, and the King was weary of her, and it was reported that he had given her large sums of money and a fine house, (the residence of the Earls of Berkshire, on the south-west corner of St. James’s Street,) merely to get rid of her. Yet she still ruled him in many points, and she made great friends with the Duke and Duchess of York, while one of her violent hatreds was against the Duke of Ormond, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, because he would not confirm the grant of Phoenix Park, a house near Dublin, which the King had promised her. Meeting him in one of the royal apartments, she fell upon him with a torrent of abuse, and ended by expressing a hope that she might live to see him hanged. His Grace replied with calm dignity, “he was in no haste to shorten her days; all he wished was to live, to see her old.”

In 1670, Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine, was created Baroness Nonsuch, Countess of Southampton, and Duchess of Cleveland, in the Peerage of England, with the Palace and Park of Nonsuch, in Surrey, and an enormous increase of income: so that as far as pecuniary advantages went, the King was still sufficiently under her spell, to comply with her exorbitant demands. John Churchill, (afterwards the great Duke of Marlborough,) when a Court Page attracted the attention of Barbara. She lavished gifts upon him, procured him the post of Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York, and obtained his promotion in the army. But in later years when her beauty had passed away, and her favour at Court, the man who had risen by her influence, refused to speak a word in her behalf, respecting the renewal of her ill-paid pension. The last grant made to the Duchess of Cleveland, and to the Earl of Northumberland, for their lives, was the Rangership of the honour, and manor of Hampton Court; but the lodge in Bushy Park was not habitable. It was about this time, that Barbara went to France, her name appearing as a liberal patroness to the Convent of the Blue Nuns, in the Faubourg St. Antoine (where she had placed her daughter Barbara), and other religious houses.

In 1678 occurred the episode, with the English Ambassador, to which we have alluded in the notice of the Duke of Montagu, when Barbara on her return from London, found that her own daughter, the Countess of Sussex, had supplanted her, in the favour of that fickle nobleman. In 1694, she was living in Arlington Street, Piccadilly, and received as a companion a certain Madame De la RiviÈre, one of the daughters and co-heiresses of Sir Roger Manley, Bart., a woman of no reputation, save as the authoress of some inferior literary productions; who after a stormy friendship, repaid her patroness’s hospitality by contriving a clandestine marriage for her eldest son, the Duke of Southampton, with the daughter of Sir William Pulteney, a match very much disapproved by his mother.

Lord Castlemaine died in 1705. After his separation from his wife, as far back as 1662, his life was eventful; he travelled far, fought at Solebay, was twice sent to the Tower, went as Ambassador to Rome, was the author of several political pamphlets, and in fact “meddled a little in everything around.” Four months after his death, his widow married the celebrated “Beau” Feilding, the widower of two heiresses, viz., the only daughter of Lord Carlingford, and the only daughter of the Marquis of Clanricarde, widow of Viscount Muskerry, and of Robert Villiers, Viscount Purbeck. Both ladies died without children, and the Beau at the time of his marriage with Duchess Barbara, was a man of desperate fortune, and character. He ill-treated his wife, who was most generous to him, and would have divested her of all her property, had not her sons stood by her. Fortunately, for her Grace, it was discovered that the Beau had already, but a few days before his marriage with her, espoused a certain Mary Wadsworth, who had been palmed off upon his credulity, as a widow of enormous wealth. He was tried, and found guilty of bigamy, Barbara being in court during the trial, and the marriage was pronounced null, and void.

She passed the remainder of her life at Chiswick, where she died of dropsy in the sixty-ninth year of her age, 1709. She left a considerate will, and gave strict orders concerning her funeral, desiring to be buried at the parish church. Her pall was borne by six Peers of the realm. Barbara’s three sons were the Duke of Cleveland and Southampton, the Duke of Grafton, and the Duke of Northumberland; the first and last titles became extinct. Her daughters were the Countess of Sussex, the Countess of Lichfield, “a blameless beauty,” and Lady Barbara Fitzroy, (disowned by the King, and supposed to be the daughter of John Churchill, afterwards Duke of Marlborough), who took the veil, and died as Prioress of a convent in France. Bishop Burnet, in speaking of Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland, says: “She was a woman of great beauty, vicious, ravenous, foolish, and imperious.” Another contemporary says: “She was a great contradiction, unboundedly lavish, yet sordidly covetous.”

Portrait galleries teem with likenesses of Barbara, at different ages, in different costumes, and “moods.” In the celebrated “Bellona” of the Hampton Court Beauties we detect the “arrogant virago” who carried all before her: but in the portrait in question, her beauty is far more captivating from the pensive and languid expression, which softens her brilliant eyes, and smooths the corners of her finely cut but usually severe lips. No wonder, Lord Sandwich was delighted with his present. Pepys does not specify the donor, whether the lady, or the artist; but he says: “My Lady Sandwich showed me, and Mistress Pepys, Lady Castlemaine’s picture, at the new house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, finely done, and given my Lord;” and in another page, he calls it “that most blessed picture.”

General Ireton:

By DOBSON.

Three-quarter Length.

Born, 1611. Died, 1651. Son of Gervase Ireton, Esq., of Attenborough, Co. Notts. Was a gentleman-commoner, at Trinity College, Oxford. Destined for the bar; but the Civil War breaking out, he obtained a commission in the Parliamentary Army. In 1645 he married at Norton, near Oxford, Bridget, the eldest daughter of Oliver Cromwell, by whom he had one son, and four daughters. In 1649 he was appointed one of the King’s judges, and signed the warrant for his execution. He was a man of undoubted courage, and distinguished himself in numerous engagements, more especially at the battle of Naseby. His views were violently republican, but his integrity stern and uncompromising; no mercenary motives influenced him. Eleven years the junior of Cromwell, and his son-in-law, he dared to differ with him, and to expostulate boldly when he disapproved of the Protector’s conduct. After the battle of Worcester he was offered pecuniary remuneration, with several other members of the Parliamentary Army, but he was disinterested enough to refuse £20,000, and to tell the government roundly, he should be more content to see them paying off the debts they had incurred, than thus disposing of the public money. It was thought that his appointment as Lord Deputy in Ireland, was intended by the Protector to remove him from all possibility of interference with his own proceedings; and there seems little doubt that Ireton, shortly before his death, had contemplated crossing the Channel to speak face to face with his father-in-law, in reference to many measures he disapproved. But he was suddenly seized, and carried off by the Plague, during the siege of Limerick in 1651.

Ireton was held in great esteem by his party and his comrades, and it was said of him that he grafted the soldier on the lawyer, and the statesman on the saint. Cromwell was much affected at his death, and caused the body to be brought over, and deposited with great pomp in Westminster Abbey, in Henry VII.’s Chapel. At the Restoration however, the body was dug up, and hung upon a gibbet at Tyburn.

Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector of England:

By WALKER.

Half-Length: Oval.

(In Armour, with a Plain Falling Collar.)