YALE UNIVEESITY LIBEAEY

FORMED BY
James Abraham Hillhouse, B.A. 1749
James Hillhouse, B.A. 1773
James Abraham Hillhouse, B.A. 1808
James Hillhouse, B.A. 1875
Itemoved 1942 from the
Manor Souse in Sachem's Wood
GIFT OF
GEORGE DUDLEY SEYMOUR

MY LJIDY CASTLEMJJINE

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c^Cy Lady Castlemaine
Being a Life of {Barbara "Dithers
Countess of Castlemaine, afterwards
Duchess of Cleveland :: ::
By Philip W. Sergeant, B.J.,
Author of " The Empress Josephine, Napoleon's Enchantress,"
" 17 he Courtships of Catherine the Great," &c.

With 19 Illustrations including
a Photogravure Frontispiece

DANA ESTES & CO.
BOSTON

Printed in Great Britain

PREFACE
TT may perhaps be maintained that, if Barbara
Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess
of Cleveland, has not been written about in many
books, it is for a good and sufficient reason, that she
is not worth writing about. That is not an argument
to be lightly decided. But certainly less interesting
women have been the subjects of numerous books,
worse women, less influential — and less beautiful
than this lady of the dark auburn hair and deep blue
eyes. We know that Mr. G. K. Chesterton says that
Charles II attracts him morally. (His words are
" attracts us," but this must be the semi-editorial
" we.") If King Charles can attract morally Mr.
Chesterton, may not his favourite attract others ?
Or let us be repelled, and as we view the lady acting
her part at Whitehall let us exclaim, " How differ
ent from the Court of . . . good King William III,"
if we like.
Undoubtedly the career of Barbara Villiers furnishes
a picture of one side at least of life in the Caroline
period ; of the life of pleasure unrestrained, unfalter
ing — unless through lack of cash — and unrepentant.
For Barbara did not die, like her great rival Louise de
Keroualle (according to Saint-Simon), " very old,

vi PREFACE
very penitent, and very poor " ; or, like another
rival, Hortense Mancini (according to Saint-Evre-
mond), " seriously, with Christian indifference toward
life." On the principle humani nil a me alienum
futo even the Duchess of Cleveland cannot be con
sidered unworthy of attention ; but, as being more
extreme in type, therefore more interesting than the
competing beauties of her day.
A few words are necessary concerning the method
of this book. The idea has been to let contemporaries
tell the story as far as possible, and usually in their
own language. This involves a plentiful use of in
verted commas ; but it appears to me that thus a
more vivid and faithful presentation is made of the
spirit — or spirits — of the times than if all the material
had been transformed into Twentieth Century shape.
What could bring the volcanic Barbara more clearly
before our eyes than Pepys's tale, in chapter vn, of
her departure from Whitehall Palace, after a threat
to murder her child before Charles's eyes, making
" a slighting ' puh ' with her mouth " ; or Mrs.
Manley's, in chapter ix, of her fit after Churchill
had refused to lend her money, when " her resent
ment burst out into a bleeding at her nose and breaking
of her lace, without which aid, it is believed, her
vexation had killed her upon the spot " ? Even the
mis-spellings have their value ; as when the Duchess
tells Charles that " this prosiding of yours is so jenoros
and obliging that I must be the werst wooman alive
ware I not sensible ; no Sr my hart and soule is toucht
with this genoriste of yours."

PREFACE vii
Another point in the method adopted will, I fear,
be unfavourably criticised by all except the general
reader. Practically all the footnotes except those
which can be read without a distraction of the at
tention from the thread of the narrative have been
banished to the end of the book. Almost every
reference to the pages of the authorities has been
thus treated. Those readers, therefore, who do not
care (for instance) on what page of what volume of
the Historical MSS. Commission reports a certain
letter is to be found, will not have their eyes irritated
by asterisks drawing attention to " H.M.C. Rep. 15,
App., Pt. 4." Those, on the other hand, who wish
to verify a quotation or to read a passage which
illustrates, without directly belonging to, the narrative
may do so without more labour than is involved by
turning to the Notes at the end of the book.
As these Notes quote my sources of information, it
is unnecess'ary here to make special acknowledgment
of indebtedness to particular authorities. But it
would be ungracious not to mention the authors of
the three 1 previous biographies of Barbara Villiers —
the complete and careful Memoir by Mr. G. S.
Steinman, privately printed in 1871, with Addenda in
1874 and 1878 ; the attractive sketch in Mr. Allan
Fea's Some Beauties of the Seventeenth Century ; and
the wholly admirable article by Mr. Thomas Seccombe
in the Dictionary of National Biography.
1 Since the above was written my attention has been called to a
fourth biography, by Mr. Alfred Kalisch, included in The Lives ef
Twelve Bad Women.

viii PREFACE
With regard to the title of this book, " My Lady
Castlemaine " was chosen in preference to others
because it is so that the lady is always called by Samuel
Pepys ; and he (who has surely more right than
Euripides to the name of " the human ") has taught
us how she may be looked upon with a kindly eye.
Philip W. Sergeant.
November, 191 1.

CONTENTS

Barbara Villiers

PAGE I

Barbara's Marriage .

22

The Affair of the Queen's Bedchamber

45

The Castlemaine Ascendancy .

77

The Rivals ....

• 95

Politics and Plague .

116

The Struggle for Supremacy .

• 132

The Declining Mistress

• 157

Supplanted

¦ 173

The Portsmouth Supremacy

• i99

The Duchess in Paris

. 214

The Last Years of Charles II

. 241

"Hilaria" ....

. 261

In Low Water

• 283

The Duchess and Beau Feilding

292

Last Years and Death

3i7

Notes

• 323

Index ....

347

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland, in the character of Bellona. . . . Frontispiece
From the painting by Sir Peter Lely at Hampton Court. TO FACE PAGE
William Villiers, Second Viscount Grandison . . . 6
From an engraving after a painting by Van Dyck.
Philip Stanhope, Second Earl of Chesterfield . . .14
From an engraving by E. Scriven, after a painting by Sir Peter Lely.
Roger Palmer, Earl of Castlemaine . . ..22
From an engraving by Faithorne.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . . . . 32
From an engraving after a miniature by Samuel Cooper.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . ... 44
From a painting by Sir Peter Lely.
Catherine of Braganza, Queen of Charles II . . 54
From a photograph by W. A. Mansell <&* Co., after a painting
in the National Portrait Gallery by Jacob Huysmans.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . ... 76
From an engraving by W. Sherwin.
Frances Stewart . . ... 94
From a photograph by W. J. Roberts after a painting by Sir Peter
Lely at Goodwood, reproduced by permission of the Earl of
March.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . . . . 108
From an engraving by J. Enghels after a picture by Sir Peter Lely.
Charles the Second . . . . . 132
From a photograph by W. A. Mansell & Co., after a painting
by Mrs. Beale in the National Portrait Gallery.
xi

xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
TO FACE PAGE
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . . . . 156
From a photograph by Emery Walker, after a copy of a picture by
Sir Peter Lely in the National Portrait Gallery.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . . . . 174
From a mezzotint engraving after a painting by Sir Peter Lely.
William Wycherley . . . . . 192
From a mezzotint engraving by I. Smith, after a painting by
Sir Peter Lely.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland, and her daughter Lady Barbara . . .214
From a mezzotint engraving, after a painting by H. Gascar.
Henry Fitzroy, First Duke of Grafton . . 248
From a mezzotint engraving by Beckett.
The Earl of Castlemaine at the feet of Innocent XI . . 268
From a contemporary work published in Rome.
Robert Feilding . . . . 292
From an engraving by M. Van der Gucht.
Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and Duchess of
Cleveland . . . . . . 318
From a photograph by Emery Walker, after a painting by Sir
Godfrey Kneller in the National Portrait Gallery.

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

CHAPTER I
BARBARA VILLIERS

ERRATA. CWkO cJy"£g-~
Page 49, 1. 5. For " father " read " grandfather.''
,, 271,1.10. For "in October" read "on September 28th."
,, 285, 1. 24. For " we do not hear" read " Luttrell does not relate."
„ 286, 1. 12. Delete interrogation -mark.

here and in the History, to her who was at the time he
wrote Duchess of Cleveland. The latter of the two
passages has been quoted by almost every writer who
has had occasion to allude to the Duchess. What
Burnet says in the fragment will be less familiar to most
readers. It is brief and much to the point : " Indeed,
I never heard any commend her but for her beauty,
which was very extraordinary and has been now of
long continuance." (Her Grace was forty- two years of
age when Burnet wrote this.) " In short, she was a
woman of pleasure, and stuck at nothing that would

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

CHAPTER I
BARBARA VILLIERS
" O Barbara, thy execrable name
Is sure embalmed with everlasting shame."
Charles, Earl of Dorset.
LOVE not to give characters of women, especi
ally where there is nothing that is good to be
said of them," says Bishop Burnet, in a fragment
which perhaps he intended originally to incorporate in
his famous History of My Own Time. He does, how
ever, so far overcome his reluctance to attempt femin
ine character-drawing as to devote a few lines, both
here and in the History, to her who was at the time he
wrote Duchess of Cleveland. The latter of the two
passages has been quoted by almost every writer who
has had occasion to allude to the Duchess. What
Burnet says in the fragment will be less familiar to most
readers. It is brief and much to the point : " Indeed,
I never heard any commend her but for her beauty,
which was very extraordinary and has been now of
long continuance." (Her Grace was forty-two years of
age when Burnet wrote this.) " In short, she was a
woman of pleasure, and stuck at nothing that would

2 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
either serve her appetites or her passions ; she was
vastly expensive, and by consequence very covetous ;
she was weak, and so was easily managed."
The Bishop's opinion of the lady's beauty was
generally shared by his and her contemporaries. To
Sir John Reresby she is " the finest woman of her
age " ; to Boyer, " by far the handsomest of all King
Charles's mistresses, and, taking her person every way,
perhaps the finest woman in England in her time."
In the course of this book we shall see many other
tributes of the same kind from writers of all sorts.
Among the painters, Lely in particular paid her a still
greater compliment, for he did her picture so often
and so admirably that her handsome features are better
known to us nowadays than those of any of her rivals.
There are in existence at the present time, in England
and abroad, enough portraits of her to fill a small
gallery. If her bodily loveliness was universally recognised in
her lifetime and is incontestable to-day, her moral
character was a byword while she lived and has never
found an apologist since her death. Horace Walpole
in a letter to his friend George Montagu, it is true,
puts her among " the historically noble " ; but, as
he classes together under this heading " the Clevelands,
Portsmouths, and Yarmouths " as opposed -to ladies
like " Madam Lucy Walters," it is clear to what sort
of nobility he is referring. Except Samuel Pepys and
King Charles II nobody appears to have discovered
a good point about her. What Burnet thought of her
was thought also by nearly all who came in contact with

BARBARA VILLIERS 3
her. But the majority of them in committing their
judgment to paper used much stronger language. The
satirists, indeed, went so far that their verses seldom
permit of quotation. Some discount must be allowed
in the lady's favour on account of the violent hatred
stored up against her during her long rule at Whitehall,
and breaking forth as soon as it was reasonably safe to
give vent to it. It can scarcely be doubted, however,
that she deserved the substance of what was said
about her. And if the language of her censors was
excessively vehement, she could not justly complain.
She was herself such a shrew that we may apply to her
what Pope said of a certain Oldham, " a very indelicate
writer " : " He has a strong rage, but it is too much
like Billingsgate ! "
It would not be quite true to say that Barbara
Villiers was a female incarnation of the spirit of
Restoration England ; for it is a popular fallacy
which makes the Restoration the starting-point of a
change not merely in the externals of life, but also in
the inner morality of this country. But she may
fairly be said to be a distinctive product of her time,
fostered to rank luxuriance by the special circum
stances of her early girlhood, rather than the off-shoot
of a bad stock growing up like a weed in a garden where
it has no rightful place.
Barbara was indeed of very honourable descent
through both of her parents. Her father, William
Villiers, second Lord Grandison, was the eldest son of
Sir Edward Villiers ; and of Barbara St. John, to
whose descendants the title of her childless uncle,

4 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Oliver St. John, Viscount Grandison of Limerick, was
transmitted. To this grandmother Barbara, no doubt,
the subject of the present biography, owed her name.
Sir Edward Villiers, who himself had a family of
seven, was one of the nine children of Sir George
Villiers of Brokesby, Leicestershire. Sir George was
twice married, Edward being the second son of the
first marriage, while from the second sprang the
famous George, first Duke of Buckingham, two other
sons, and a daughter. Going further back, the family
of Villiers were entitled to make the boast that they
came over with the Conqueror, and their origin was
referred to the Norman house of Villiers, Seigneurs de
l'Isle Adam, which gave France a famous marshal in
the fourteenth century, a celebrated Grand Master of
the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem in the sixteenth,
and, in modern days, a notable poet. After their arrival
in England the family settled in the North Midlands,
their estates in the early Norman times being in
Lancashire, Nottinghamshire and Leicestershire. As
we reach the Stuart period we find them closely
connected with the last-named county, of which Sir
George Villiers was Sheriff in 1591. The wonderful
favour to which Sir George's son and namesake attained
at the Court of James I led to the advancement of the
whole of this branch, and even the children of Sir
George's first marriage benefited by the reflected
glory of the brilliant Duke of Buckingham ; Sir
Edward, Barbara's grandfather, being made in turn
English Ambassador to Bohemia and President of the
province of Munster, in the latter of which posts he died.

BARBARA VILLIERS 5
Succeeding first to his father's estate in 1626 and
then to his great-uncle's Irish viscounty of Grandison,
William Villiers made an apparently good match with
the young Mary Bayning, one of the four daughters of
Paul, first Viscount Bayning, of Sudbury, Suffolk.
The Baynings were a wealthy commercial family,
Paul's father having been Sheriff of London, and
having married an Essex heiress ; while Paul himself
took to wife Anne Glemham, granddaughter of the
first Earl of Dorset. Of Mary Bayning we hear little
beyond the fact that she married two more husbands
after William Villiers. But from the early profligacy
of her daughter it may be gathered that she was a bad
mother, whatever her character may have been in other
respects. If she bore the responsibilities of married
life ill, there is perhaps this excuse, that she undertook
them before attaining full womanhood. When she
bore her only daughter Barbara, she was apparently
no more than sixteen, and she was left a widow for the
first time at the age of eighteen ; although that was by
no means extraordinarily young for a widow in
those days of very early marriages.
Barbara Villiers was born in 1641 in the parish of
St. Margaret's, Westminster, in which her father
presumably had at this time a house. The register
of St. Margaret's Church contains an entry, showing
that the child was baptised there on November 27th,
1641. From this it has been concluded that her birth
took place in the autumn of the year ; but no record
exists of the actual date and, curiously, there is no
mention in the writings of her contemporaries of any

6 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
celebration of her birthday after she had become so
notorious. There is extremely little known, too, of the
fortunes of her family in the first years of her life.
Before she was one year old there broke out what
Evelyn calls " that bloody difference between the King
and Parliament," in which her father, as a Villiers,
naturally ranged himself on the side of the King.
Viscount Grandison received a commission as " Colonel-
General," and raised a regiment for the Royalist
Army. At the opening of the war he captured Nant-
wich for the King. He fell into the hands of the
Parliamentarians at Winchester, but escaped ; took
part in the battle of Edgehill ; and in the following
year was at the siege of Bristol by the royal forces.
Here he received a fatal wound on July 26th. From
Bristol he was carried to Oxford and died in August,
being buried in the Cathedral. His daughter some
years after the Restoration raised above his remains
the white marble monument which may still be seen
at Christ Church, with a highly eulogistic epitaph
upon it.
But a more glorious tribute to the memory of
Barbara's father is to be found in the words of his
friend Clarendon, Lord Chancellor of England and
author of two of the most valuable works on the
Commonwealth and the reign of Charles II. Lord
Grandison's loss, he declares, could never be enough
lamented. " He was a young man of so virtuous a
habit of mind that no temptation or provocation could
corrupt him ; so great a lover of justice and integrity
that no example, necessity, or even the barbarities of

From an engraving after a pointing by Va7i Dyck
WILLIAM VILLIERS, SECOND VISCOUNT GRANDISON

BARBARA VILLIERS 7
this war could make him swerve from the most precise
rules of it ; and of that rare piety and devotion that the
court or camp could not shew a more faultless person,
or to whose example young men might more reasonably
conform themselves. His personal valour and courage
of all kinds (for he had sometimes indulged so much
to the corrupt opinion of honour as to venture himself
in duels) was very eminent, insomuch as he was accused
of being too prodigal of his person ; his affection, zeal,
and obedience to the King was such as became a branch
of that family. And he was wont to say that if he had
not understanding enough to know the uprightness
of the cause nor loyalty enough to inform him of the
duty of a subject, yet the very obligations of gratitude
to the King, on the behalf of his house, were such as
his life was but a due sacrifice. And therefore he no
sooner saw the war unavoidable than he engaged all his
brethren as well as himself in the service ; and there
were three more of them in command in the army,
where he was so unfortunately cut off."
So Grandison fell a victim to the war, followed to
the grave five years later by his cousin, called by
Aubrey " the beautiful Francis Villiers," shortly before
the cause for which so many of the name fought was
lost for ever by the death on the scaffold at Whitehall
of the Royal Martyr. The widowed Viscountess, on
April 25th, 1648, married her late husband's cousin
Charles, second Earl of Anglesea, the undistinguished
son of an undistinguished father, who owed his earldom
purely to the talents and influence of his brother
George, favourite of James I and Charles I.

8 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
After this wedding we hear no more of the mother,
stepfather, or daughter until 1656. But Abel Boyer,
in his Annals of Queen Anne's Reign, which began
publication in 1703, in the course of his obituary
notice of the Duchess of Cleveland in 1709 says :
" This Lady being left destitute of a Father when not
above Two or Three year old, I cannot learn who had
the Care of her, but have been informed that the
Circumstances of the Family was Mean, and that when
she came first to London, she appeared in a very plain
Country dress, which being soon altered into the
Gaiety and Mode of the Town, added a new lustre
to that Blooming Beauty, of which she has as great a
share as any lady in her time."
This is the nearest approach which we can find to a
contemporary account of Barbara's first years. Boyer
continues : " Thus furnished by bounteous Nature
and by Art, she soon became the Object of divers
young Gentlemen's Affections." Concerning the
affections of one of these young gentlemen we are
fortunate enough to have some testimony, most
thoughtfully preserved by himself for the information
of future generations.
Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield, is
undoubtedly less known to popular fame than his
grandson, the fourth Earl. Nevertheless, if it comes
to a question of comparison of character, the earlier
Chesterfield is the more remarkable man of the two.
In his lifetime and immediately after his death, people's
judgment upon him was chiefly dependent on the
view which they took of his politics. He was a loyal

BARBARA VILLIERS 9
gentleman or an arrant knave, according as his critic
was an adherent of the Stuarts or not. Beside his
attachment to the Royal Family, his other most striking
trait — his contemptuous and promiscuous devotion to
woman — was scarcely taken into consideration. His
value was estimated apart from the matter of his
sexual morality ; which was, in effect, to judge but
half the man. Seen by us to-day, as portrayed in the
letters and autobiographical notes which he left behind
him, he produces a very mixed impression on the mind.
As his last thought would have been to betray his
sovereign (whether he were Charles or James), so his
last thought also would have been not to betray a lady,
if he had the chance and she (as he wrote to one of
them) were " neither ould nor ugly."
When he came into the life of Barbara Villiers, Lord
Chesterfield was twenty-three years of age and had
been a widower three years. His career so far had
been a very adventurous one. Born in 1633, he
was only son to Henry Stanhope and Catherine,
daughter of Lord Wotton. His paternal grandfather
had been created Earl of Chesterfield by Charles I, on
whose behalf he and his numerous sons fought bravely
during the Civil War. When Philip was in his second
year his father died and was buried at Becton Malherbe,
Kent, the home of the Wottons. Here the child was
brought up until the age of seven, when his mother
married a second time. Her new husband was " John
Poliander Kirkhoven, Lord of Hemfleet," ambassador
of the Prince of Orange at the Court of Charles I.
With him she went to Holland, taking her little son,

io MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
who during his eighth and ninth years was under the
tuition of his stepfather's father," Monsieur Poliander,"
Professor of Divinity at the University of Leyden.
" His new disciple," says the editor of the memoir
prefixed to the Chesterfield Letters,1 " seems to have
conceived a deep respect for the religious and erudite
character of his instructor." He appears to have gone
no further than admiring M. Poliander's character.
Had he been bigger at the time when he was under the
Professor's care we might have looked for the explana
tion of Chesterfield's moral lapses in some lines of an
epitaph upon the old gentleman, written by Dr.
Browne, who was esteemed by His Lordship " a fine
poet." These lines ran :
" Sinn hee reproved with so much Art
That hee both smote and strok'd the harte ;
And men seem'd fond of their back slyding
For the pleasure of a chiding."
After leaving the delightful care of M. Poliander,
the boy spent his next six years partly in Holland,
partly in France. Three months of this time he was
attached to the Court of the exiled Queen-Mother
Henrietta Maria in Paris. For two periods, one as long
as twelve months, he was at the Court of the Princess
of Orange, formerly Princess Royal of England, to
whom his mother was Governess. At the age of
1 Letters of Tkilip, Second Earl of Chesterfield (London : 1829).
Lord Chesterfield preserved these letters, copied out by himself in a
manuscript volume, which included also what he calls " Some short
Notes for my remembrance of things and actidents, as they yearly
happened to mee."

BARBARA VILLIERS ii
sixteen he was at an academy in Paris, where, as he
explains in his Short Notes, " I chanced to have a
quarrel with Monsieur Morvay, since captaine of the
French king's guards, who I hurt and disarmed in a duel,
and thereupon I left the academy." A visit to Italy
followed, whence he returned to his native land, which
he had not seen since he was seven, and married in
1650 Lady Anne Percy, eldest daughter of the Earl of
Northumberland. After three apparently peaceful
years he lost his wife by smallpox, following childbirth,
and went abroad again, being now only twenty-one
years of age. His second visit to the Continent was
marked by many adventures and great straits of
fortune. For, as we learn from his Notes, in the year
he left England a decree in Chancery was given against
him and " my unkle Arthur " — Arthur Stanhope,
sixth son of the first Earl of Chesterfield, and Member
for Nottingham in the Convention Parliament —
seized his estate, claiming that his nephew owed him
ten thousand pounds. Arthur Stanhope stood very
well with Cromwell, it appears. In the midst of
Philip's distress, however, after he had actually been
reduced to begging on the way from Lyon to Paris,
news came of the death of his grandfather on Septem
ber 1 2th, 1656, and of his own succession to the
earldom. Hurrying home at once, the new Earl not only
managed to make up the quarrel with his uncle, but
was so well received by the Protector that he had the
offer of the hand of one of his daughters — either Mary,
afterwards Countess of Falconberg, or Frances,

12 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
afterwards wife first of Robert Rich, and then of her
relative Sir John Russell — with a dowry of twenty
thousand pounds, and a high command for himself,
naval or miUtary according to his preference. From
the matrimonial alliances which he either made
or might have made during his life, it is clear that
Chesterfield was looked upon as a most desirable match.
But he refused the present offer, which, he says, so
offended CromweU that " it turned his kindness into
hatred," the force of which he was soon destined to
experience. For declining Cromwell's proposal Chesterfield had
a good enough personal reason, since he was desirous
at this time of marrying Mary, the only daughter of
Lord Fairfax, who a year later became the wife of
George ViUiers, second Duke of Buckingham, after he
had first refused the hand of Frances Cromwell, it was
said. In fact, the Short Notes state that Chesterfield
and Mary Fairfax were " thrise asked in St. Martin's
church at London" (St. Martin's, Westminster).
What was the cause of the engagement being
broken off when it had got so far, we are not
informed. But we do know, from the date which
Chesterfield puts on the first letter in his collec
tion endorsed as " To Mrs. Villiers, afterwards Mrs.
Pamer, since Dutches of Cleaveland," that, during
the brief period of little more than six months between
his return to England on his grandfather's death and
the legal end of 1656,! the gaUant Earl not only
1 Chesterfield reckons the year in the old style, as ending on March
25th. See p. 325.

BARBARA VILLIERS 13
refused CromweU's daughter and engaged himself to
Mary Fairfax, but also made the acquaintance of
Barbara ViUiers.
Barbara can but recently have attained her fifteenth
birthday when she met her first lover known to history.
She was living in the house of her stepfather, which is
conjectured to have been somewhere in the neighbour
hood of St. Paul's. Lord and Lady Anglesea may have
been in straitened circumstances, but they were too
well connected to sink entirely out of sight. A close
friend of Barbara, as we shall see, was a daughter of the
Duke of Hamilton. Whether or not there was any
previous acquaintance between Chesterfield and the
Angleseas, before he had been back in England six
months he was sufficiently intimate with Mistress
VilUers to send her a letter which, if more formal
than those which foUowed on either side, argues a
friendship of exceedingly rapid growth.
" Madam," wrote Chesterfield, who was probably
at the time on a visit to his estate at Bretby, near the
Peak in Derbyshire, " Cruelty and absence have ever
been thought the most infaUible remidies for such a
distemper as mine, and yet I find both of them so
ineffectuaU that they make mee but the more incur
able ; seriously, Madam, you ought at least to afford
some compassion to one in so desperat a condition, for
by only wishing mee more f ortunat you wiU make mee
so. Is it not a Strang magick in love, which gives so
powerfuU a charme to the least of your cruel words,
that they indanger to kill a man at a hundered miles
distance ; but why doe I complaine of so pleasant a

14 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
death, or repine at those sufferings which I would not
change for a diadem ? No, Madam, the idea I have of
your perfections is to glorious to be shadowed either by
absence or time ; and if I should never more see the
sun, yet I should not cease from admiring the light ;
therefore doe not seeck to darken my weake sence by
endeavoring to make mee adore you less ;
For if you decree that I must dy,
faling is nobler, then retiring,
and in the glory of aspiring
it is brave to tumble from the sky."
Chesterfield was a better judge of lovemaking than
of poetry, it must be admitted. But no doubt his
letter gave satisfaction to the maiden heart of her to
whom it was addressed. The affair progressed rapidly,
and the next letters in the series preserved by His
Lordship — it is easy to imagine with what pride this
coxcomb of love endorsed them, " From Mrs. Villars,
since Dutches of Cleaveland " — show Barbara writing
in a most passionate strain, in spite of a formality of
style which we do not find in her letters later in life.
" My Lord [she says in the first],
" I would fain have had the happyness to have
seen you at church this day, but I was not suffered to
goe. I am never so weU pleased as when I am with
you, though I find you are better when you are with
other ladyes ; for you were yesterday all the af ternoune
with the person I am most jealous of, and I know I
have so little merrit that I am suspitious you love all
women better than my selfe. I sent you yesterday a

From an engraving by E. Scriz'c?^ after a painting by Sir Peter Lely
PHILIP STANHOPE, SECOND EARL OF CHESTERFIELD

BARBARA VILLIERS 15
letter that I think might convince you that I loved
nothing besides your selfe, nor will I ever, though you
should hate mee ; but if you should, I would never
give you the trouble of telling you how much I loved
you, but keep it to my selfe till it had broke my hart.
I will importune you no longer than to say, that I am,
and will ever be, your constant and faithfull humble

servant."

Her next note is even more formal, almost Chester-
fieldian * in tone.
" My Lord,
" I doe highly regret my own misfortune of
being out of town, since it made mee uncapable of the
honour you intended mee. I assure you nothing is
likelier to make mee sett to high rate of my selfe, than
the esteem you are pleasd to say you have for mee.
You cannot bestow your favours and obligations on any
that has a more pationat resentment of them, nor can
they ever of any receive a more sincere reception than
from, " My Lord,
" Yours, &c."
If the wording of her second letter suggests that
Barbara had been taking a lesson in literary style from
him to whom she was writing, it is plain from her third
1 "No man," says the author of the memoir prefixed to Chesterfield's
letters, " has left more elegant specimens of that peculiar courtesy, with
which an object of the passions only is intreated with the semblance
of respect.'; It seems, from a comparison of these early letters of
Barbara Villiers with those which she wrote to Charles II in 1678, for
instance, that Chesterfield must have edited and improved the letters
which he transcribed into his collection.

1 6 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
that he had commenced to instruct her in the art of
which she was to become so notorious a professor before
many more years had gone by.
" My Lord [she says],
" It is ever my ill fortune to be disappointed of
what I most desire, for this afternoon I did promis to
myselfe the satisfaction of your company ; but I
feare I am disappointed, which I assure you is no small
affliction to mee ; but I hope the faits may yet be so
kind as to let me see you about five a clock ; if you will
be at your private lodgings in Lincoln's Inn feilds,
I wiU endeavour to come, and assure you of my
being, " My Lord, "Yours, &c."
It is not in accordance with the usual picture of life
in England under the Commonwealth to find a girl
between fifteen and sixteen being allowed by her
parents, or being able without her parents' knowledge,
to visit a young man in his private lodgings ; but we
know of nothing to the credit of Barbara's mother ex
cept that her first husband was William Villiers, nor of
anything at aU to that of Lord Anglesea. The super
vision which they exercised over Barbara was evidently
very sUght. The next letter preserved by Chesterfield
is written jointly by her and her chief girl friend,
" the Lady Ann Hambleton," as he caUs her. This
Lady Anne was one of the five daughters of the
Duchess of Hamilton, whom the battle of Worcester
left a widow. As Lady Carnegy, and afterwards

BARBARA VILLIERS 17
Countess of Southesk, she figures in the Gramont
Memoirs in a very unfavourable light. About a year
older than Barbara, she seems at the age of seventeen
already to have laid the foundation of her future ill
name. These two young ladies write to Chesterfield, clearly
before rising in the morning, that they are " just now
abed together contriving how to have your company
this afternoune," and making an appointment " at
Ludgate HiU, about three a clock, at Butler's shop,"
which was no doubt sufficiently close to Lord Angle-
sea's house as well as to Lincoln's Inn Fields to be
convenient to all parties. The Lady Anne may be
presumed to have been on a visit to her friend's home.
She was, equally with Barbara Villiers, an admirer of
Lord Chesterfield and equally a willing victim to the
wUes of the rake. But retribution overtook the elder
of the two girls. Chesterfield for some reason went to
" Tunbridg," as he spells it, and there he received a
letter from Barbara in which she said : " I came just
now from the Dutches of Hambleton, and there I
found, to my great affliction, that the Lady Ann was
sent to Windsor, and the world sayes that you are the
occation of it. I am sorry to hear that the having a
kindness for you is so great a crime that people are to
suffer for it ; the only satisfaction that one doth receive
is, that their cause is so glorious that it is suffitient to
preserve a tranquillity of mind, that all their malice
can never discompose."
It was true that the Lady Anne was sent away in
disgrace. Chesterfield preserved a note from her, also

1 8 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
written in the courtly style of which he himself was
the great exponent. " I have to good an oppinion of
you," she says, " not to believe you gratefuU, and that
made mee think you would not be satisfied if I should
leave you for ever without a farewell." She sends
" this advertisement " — her note — " that you may
give mee some Adieus with your eyes, since it is to be
done noe other way."
Chesterfield's reply is interesting as showing how the
gaUants of either sex met, even as early as 1657, m
places that after the Restoration became scandalous
for assignations and encounters :
" Madam, " Soon after your ladyship's departure, I came
to town, and went to the Park and Spring Garden, just
as some doe to Westminster to see those monuments,
that have contained such great and lovely persons.
Seriously, Madam, I may weU make the comparison,
since you, that were the soul of this little world, have
carried all the life of it with you, and left us so dull,
that I have quite left of the making love to five or six
at a time, and doe wholly content myselfe with the
being as much as is possible, " Madam, " Yours, &c, " C."
To what extent Lord Chesterfield " left of the
making love to five or six at a time " may be gathered
from the warmth of a letter to him from " Mrs.
Villars," in which she speaks of doing nothing but

BARBARA VILLIERS 19
dream of him. " My life is never pleasant to mee,"
she continues, " but when I am with you or talking of
you ; yet the discourses of the world must make mee
a Uttle more circumspect ; therefore I desire you not to
come tomorrow, but to stay tiU the party be come to
town. I will not faile to meet you on Sathurday
morning, till when I remain your humble servant."
Could he set down all he thought (upon the subject
of the kindness which he should show to her), says
Chesterfield in his turn, all the paper of the town were
too little ; " for having an object so transcending all
that ever was before, it coins new thoughts, which
want fresh words, to speak the language of a soul that
might jusly teach all others how to love."
As if to make sure that posterity should be in no
doubt as to his ability to carry on simultaneously a
number of affairs, Chesterfield made copies of letters
addressed to him by other ladies about the same
period, including one from the Lady Elizabeth
Howard, daughter of the Earl of Berkshire and after
wards wife of Dryden, whose patron Chesterfield
became later in Ufe. He also copied a letter which he
received from Lady Capel, sister of his late wife, in
which she remonstrated with him in a kindly but
serious tone about the rumours which reached her in
the country as to his misdoings. " Though I live
here where I know very little of what is done in the
world," she wrote, " yet I hear so much of your
exceeding wildness, that I am confident I am more
censible of it than any freind you have ; you treate
all the mad drinking lords, you sweare, you game, and

20 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
commit all the extravagances that are insident to
untamed youths, to such a degree that you make your
selfe the talke of all places, and the wonder of those who
thought otherwise of you, and of all sober people ;
and the worst of all is, I heare there is a hansom young
lady (to both your shames) with child by you."
Chesterfield replied impenitently, complaining that
the world was " strangly giving to lying," saying that
since she had not credited his former professions he
could not now expect to be more fortunate, and
desiring her to forbear censuring on his account one of
the most virtuous persons living — presumably " the
hansom young lady." Two more letters passed
between them, from which it is evident that Lady
Capel's esteem for her brother-in-law was forfeited
for ever.
Lord Chesterfield, however, had other matters to
engage his attention as well as affairs of the heart. In
the year after his introduction to Barbara Villiers he
had a quarrel with a Captain John Whalley, on account
of a piece of impertinence which he (Chesterfield)
offered to a lady, fought a duel with him, wounded him,
and was arrested and sent to the Tower. In 1658 he was
three times in prison again, on political charges, " the
fruit of his attachment to the exiled Royal Family," his
biographer says. CromweU was by no means inclined to
be friendly with him now, and the charge of treason
against the existing Government was pressed so far
that at first his estate was sequestered. But in the end,
" with great charge and trouble," as he expresses it
himself, he got off.

BARBARA VILLIERS 21
In this stormy year Chesterfield's intimacy with
Barbara ViUiers may weU have been interrupted ; and,
indeed, he preserves no letters between himself and her
which bear the date 1658. Moreover, apart from the
misfortunes which befell him, an obstacle arose which
temporarily, at least, stood in the way of their meeting.
What this was must be left to the next chapter to
describe.

CHAPTER II
BARBARA'S MARRIAGE
'' T^URNIS'HED by bounteous nature and by
art," says Boyer in a passage already quoted,
Barbara ViUiers " soon became the object of divers
young gentlemen's affections ; and among the rest
Roger Palmer, Esq., then a student in the Temple
and heir to a good fortune, was so enamoured with her
that nothing would satisfy him less than to have the
jewel to be his own. It was reported that his father,
then living, having strong apprehensions upon him,
foreboding the misfortunes that would ensue, used
all the arguments that a paternal affection could
suggest to him, to disuade his son from prosecuting
his suit that way, adding, That if he was resolved to
marry her, he foresaw he should be one of the most
miserable men in the world. The predominancy of the
son's passion was such, that the authority and dissua
sions of the father availed nothing ; so that the
marriage between him and Mrs. Villiers was con
summated, not long before the Restoration of King
Charles II."
The Roger Palmer who now enters into the story
was born on September 3rd, 1634, at Dorney Court,
Buckinghamshire, being son of Sir James Palmer by

Prom an engraving by Faithome
ROGER PALMER, EARL OF CASTLEMAINE

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 23
his second wife Catherine. On both sides of the
family his ancestry was good. Sir James Palmer was
a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to James I, and an
intimate friend of the Prince of Wales, afterwards
Charles I ; his father was Sir Thomas Palmer, known
as " the Travailer " on account of a book he published
in 1606 entitled, An Essay of the Meanes how to make
our Travailes into forraine Countries the more -profitable
and honourable ; and his grandfather and great
grandfather, Sir Henry and Sir Edward, both soldiers
of repute. Sir James, after the death of his first wife,
leaving him a son and a daughter, took as his second
Catherine, widow of Sir Robert Vaughan. This lady
was daughter to William Herbert, first Baron Powis,
a leading Roman Catholic nobleman, whose grandson,
the third Lord Powis, was destined to experience many
tribulations in the company of Roger Palmer in the
reign of terror set up by Titus Oates and his friends.
The Palmers were well off, and Roger received his
education at Eton and at King's College, Cambridge,
entering the latter at the age of seventeen. Soon
after leaving Cambridge — as it happened, just about
the time when his future wife made the acquaintance
of Lord Chesterfield — he was admitted a student of
the Inner Temple, but he was never caUed to the Bar,
fate having other things in store for him. How he
came to meet the Anglesea family and to enrol himself
among the " divers young gentlemen " who set their
affections upon Barbara Villiers does not appear. At
the Temple he must have been within easy reach of her
stepfather's house, and no doubt to the ill-provided

24 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Angleseas he appeared in the light of a most welcome
suitor for Barbara's hand ; especially if her name was
already compromised by her affair with Chesterfield,
as her mention of " the discourses of the world "
seems to show. Sir James Palmer did not necessarily
exhibit great foresight in auguring misfortunes for
his son arising out of the marriage, if Barbara had
caused herself to be talked about scandalously at the
age of sixteen.
But Roger was not to be denied, and on April 14th,
1659, ke and Barbara ViUiers were married at the
church of St. Gregory by St. Paul's, one of the
buildings totaUy destroyed by the Great Fire of
London seven years later.
The character of Roger Palmer is difficult to esti
mate. Jesse, in his Memoirs of the Court of England,
is certainly not justified in summing it up in the words,
" He figures through a long life as an author, a bigot,
and a fool." The fact that he became a Roman
Catholic and was employed by King James II in
positions of trust, including that of special ambassador
to the Pope, caused a prejudice against him in the
minds of many of those who wrote about him during
his lifetime or soon after his death. His narrow escape
from being one of the victims of Titus Oates, and
his persecution again after William of Orange had
mounted the EngUsh throne, were typical of the treat
ment of which he was thought worthy by his enemies.
It is not surprising, therefore, that he should by some of
them have been classed among those husbands who,
Gramont's friend Saint-Evremond told him, were

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 25
typical of England — docile with regard to their wives ;
but by no means tolerant of the inconstancy of their
mistresses, he added. This is a question to which we
must return later, but it may be said here that what
Boyer caUs " the misfortunes of his bed " would seem
naturally to demand sympathy for him rather than
contempt. That he was a fool to marry a bad woman
cannot be denied. But he did not do so wittingly,
nor was he the first or last man to do so. At any rate,
after his discovery of his wife's worthlessness, we do
not find him seeking consolation in the usual method
in vogue at the Court of Charles II with the husbands
of meretricious beauties. There is a singular absence
of scandal about him, in an age when scandal left few
indeed untouched.
Apart from the question of sexual morality, what
we hear of him attracts rather than repels. Those who
were not utterly biased against him by his religion
could not deny him some merits. Boyer says in his
obituary notice of him : " He was a learned person,
well vers'd in the Mathematicks. For he was the
inventor of a horizontal globe, and wrote a book of the
use of it." This was a pamphlet published in 1679,
entitled The English Globe: being a stable and im-
mobil one, performing what ordinary Globes do and much
more. He was also the author of An Account of the
Present War between the Venetians and the Turks ;
with the State of Candie, based on his experiences with
the Venetian squadron in the Levant in 1664 ;
of a history, in French, of the Anglo-Dutch war of
1 665-1 667 ; and of several works in defence of the

26 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Roman Catholic faith and the loyalty of the Roman
Catholics in England, including The Catholique Apology,
which Pepys had a sight of on December Ist, 1666,
and, without knowing who was the writer, found
" very well writ indeed."
Of the first months of the married life of Roger and
Barbara Palmer nothing is known until we come once
more upon a letter preserved by Lord Chesterfield.
From this it appears that within less than a year of her
marriage Barbara had renewed acquaintance with her
lover, and that Palmer was aware of the fact and
resented it. Under the date 1659 Chesterfield has a
letter "from Mrs. Pamer, since Dutches of Cleaveland,"
which runs thus :
" My Lord,
" Since I saw you, I have been at home, and I
find the mounser [sc. monsieur] in a very ill humer, for
he sayes that he is resolved never to bring mee to town
againe, and that nobody shall see me when I am in the
country. I would not have you come to day, for that
would displease him more ; but send mee word
presently what you would advise me to doe, for I am
ready and willing to goe aU over the world with you,
and I will obey your commands, that am whilst I live,
" Yours."
Barbara did not, however, elope with Lord Chester
field. Doubtless he had not the slightest desire that
she should, she being only one of his very numerous
flames. And for a time aU possibUity of her doing so
was removed. Within the same year, 16^9, she was

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 27
attacked by that fearful scourge of the period, small
pox, which (as can be seen from any contemporary
diary or collection of letters) ravaged almost every
family in England without distinction of rank. As
there is no subsequent mention of any blemish on
Barbara's beauty, it may be gathered that she was
not marked by the disease ; but she makes herself out to
have a bad attack. From her sick-bed she writes to
Chesterfield :
"My Dear Life" [this is the only occasion on which
she departs from the formal My Lord],
" I have been this day extreamly iU, and the
not hearing from you hath made mee much worse
then otherwayes I should have been. The doctor doth
believe mee in a desperat condition, and I must
confess, that the unwillingness I have to leave you,
makes mee not intertaine the thoughts of deathe so
wiUingly as otherwais I should ; for there is nothing
besides yourselfe that could make me desire to live a
day ; and, if I am never so happy as to see you more,
yet the last words I will say shall be a praire for your
happyness, and so I will live and dey loving you above
all other things, who am, " My Lord,
" Yours, &c."
In other circumstances the utter abandonment of
this letter might seem pathetic. But Chesterfield's
reply hardly suggests that he was deeply touched. It
is very courtly in tone. He " will not believe that you
are not well, for the certain newse of your being sick
would infalibly make me so ; and I doe not find

28 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
myselfe yet fitt for another world." And so on, with
no expression of anxiety beyond the request that she
should send him word that she was in perfect health.
Barbara recovered in due course,1 and announced
the fact, in a letter not preserved. Chesterfield, in the
country at the time, thanked her for the news — " tho
it was but a peece of justice in you to lessen the
apprehentions of a person who doth more participate
in your good and bad fortune, than all the rest of
mortals." Had he thought his coming to town, he
added, could have been either serviceable or accept
able to her, she should have seen him in London
instead of his name at the bottom of a letter.
And now, after smallpox on Barbara's side had inter
rupted the intimacy, a misfortune befeU Chesterfield
which abruptly removed him from England. Near the
beginning of Pepys's Diary, under the date of January,
1660, the writer teUs how he, when taking his wife
and the young Edward Montagu by coach to Twicken
ham, on the way, " at Kensington, understood how
that my Lord Chesterfield had kiUed another gentle
man about half an hour before, and was fled."
Without waiting for arrest and trial — as a matter of
fact he might have done so safely, for the jury found
it " chance-medley," it is recorded — Chesterfield made
for Chelsea and escaped thence by water to France.
1 In later years she was apparently emboldened by her early
attack to be without dread of smallpox. In the midst of an epidemic
in London, Moll Davis, her actress rival, endeavoured to alarm her
with the suggestion that she might contract the disease and lose her
beauty ; whereon she scornfully replied that she had no fear, for she
had had what would prevent her from catching it.

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 29
From here he wrote to King Charles, then at Brussels,
asking the Royal pardon for what he had done, and
affirming that he begged a forfeited life " to noe other
end then to venter it on all occations in your Majesties
service and quarrel." Charles repUed in a most
friendly strain, concluding : " I hope the time is at
hand that will put an end to our calamities, therefore
pull up your spirits to wellcome that good time, and be
assured I will be allwayes very kind to you as Your
most affectionat friend Charles R." Moreover, the
King received him in audience at Breda in April, and
granted him full forgiveness for his crime. Chester
field departed for Paris and soon afterwards was at
Bourbon (Bourbonne), drinking the waters, whence he
wrote a letter, of which he kept a copy, to Mrs.
Palmer. Then, hearing of Charles's intention of
proceeding to England, he made for Calais, took a
boat, joined the Naseby, which had the King on board,
and with him landed again at Dover on May 26th.
After Barbara's recovery from her attack of smaU-
pox, the movements of the Palmers are not certainly
known. Mrs. Jameson, in her Beauties of the Court of
King Charles the Second, published in 1833, says that
Barbara's " first acquaintance with Charles probably
commenced in HoUand, whither she accompanied her
husband in 1659, when he carried to the King a con
siderable sum of money, to aid in his restoration, and
assisted him also by his personal services." Similarly
Jesse, writing in 1840, says that in the foUowing
year after their marriage the Palmers " joined the
Court of Charles in the Low Countries, where the

30 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
husband made himself acceptable by his loans, and the
lady by her charms." Neither of these late writers
mentions any authority for their statements, and
contemporaries, so far as is known, are silent upon the
matter. There is nothing improbable, however, in a
visit of Roger Palmer and his wife to Holland at the
beginning of 1660. Hither Charles moved in AprU,
thinking it advisable to leave the Spanish Netherlands
at this period, and being assured of a benevolent
attitude on the part of the Dutch toward his attempt
on England. Palmer's loyalty, Uke that of aU his
family, was weU known, and he was in the expectation,
shared by so many other Royalists in England, of a
good post when the Restoration should come about.
Being a wealthy man, he had every inducement to help
King Charles with his money when money was aU that
was required to make Charles's prospects brilliant. In
a petition which he made to the King in the following
June for the Marshalship of the King's Bench Prison,
he represented that he had " promoted the Royal cause
at the outmost hazard of life and great loss of fortune."
We cannot tell what was the hazard of life to which he
was exposed. The great loss of fortune may weU have
been in the shape of loans to the King, who certainly
needed cash. Do we not know from Pepys " in what a
sad, poor condition for clothes and money the King was,
and all his attendants . . . their clothes not being
worth forty shillings the best of them " ?
With regard to Barbara's acquaintance with His
Majesty, it is certainly curious, in view of the notoriety
of their relations from the very commencement of

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 31
his reign, that no writer of the period should have
recorded the time or place of their earliest meeting.
Boyer and the author of a scurrilous tract entitled
The Secret History of the Reigns of King Charles II
and King James II, printed in 1690, both state that
Mrs. Palmer was with the King at Whitehall Palace
on the night of his Restoration. Another account
makes the King withdraw from the Palace to Sir
Samuel Morland's house in Lambeth to spend the
night after his arrival. But loyal observers of the
entry of King Charles into London did not see Mrs.
Palmer. Evelyn stood in the Strand on May 29th and
beheld " a triumph of above 20,000 horse and foote,
brandishing their swords and shouting with inex
pressible joy ; the wayes strew'd with flowers, the
bells ringing, the streetes hung with tapistry, foun
tains running with wine ; the Maior, Aldermen, and
all the Companies in their liveries, chaines of gold, and
banners ; Lords and Nobles clad in cloth of silver, gold,
and velvet ; the windowes and balconies weU set
with ladies ; trumpets, music, and myriads of people
flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were
seven houres in passing the Citty, even from 2 in the
afternoone tiU 9 at night." He saw, too, at WhitehaU,
when he went to present letters from Queen Henrietta
Maria a few days later, " the eagerness of men, women,
and children to see His Majesty and kisse his hands . . .
so greate that he had scarce leisure to eate for some
dayes, coming as they did from all parts of the Nation ;
and the King being as willing to give them that satis
faction, would have none kept out, but gave accesse to

32 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
all sorts of people." But he, who is so outspoken in
his opinion of the royal mistress in later years, has
nothing to say about her now. Other writers are
equally silent. The only positive evidence in favour of
Barbara's intimacy with King Charles at this date is
that, in her second letter to him from Paris in 1678 1
she speaks to him of Lady Sussex, her daughter born
on February 25 th, 1 66 1, nine months after the
Restoration, being his child.
Amid the throng about Whitehall, in these first
days, of loyaHsts and pretended loyalists, benefactors of
the King during his famous flight from Worcester, and
place-hunters who could aUege little or no reason why
they should receive the honours which they coveted,
one might think it difficult for His Majesty to carry
on an intrigue secretly. But amid the enthusiastic
rejoicings of the Restoration there was no incUnation
to be censorious. The time for reflection was yet to
come, when the hopes of a Golden Age for aU were
seen to be baseless, and a fair but grasping hand was
discovered to have a grip that none could relax on the
royal purse.
The ChanceUor, Lord Clarendon, puts forward a
theory of the reason of Charles's abandonment of
himself to dissipation now which does credit to his
loyalty. He says that the " unhappy temper and
constitution of the royal party " — rent by " jealousies,
murmurs, and disaffections amongst themselves and
against each other," and aU scrambUng for places —
" did wonderfully displease and trouble the king ;
1 See p. 232.

From an engraving after a. miniature by Sajnuei Cooper

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 33
and . . . did so break his mind, and had that opera
tion upon his spirits that finding he could not propose
any such method to himself by which he might extri
cate himself out of those many difficulties and laby
rinths in which he was involved, nor expedite those
important matters which depended upon the goodwill
and despatch of the parliament, which would proceed
by its own rules and with its accustomed formalities,
he grew more disposed to leave all things to their
natural course and God's providence ; and by degrees
unbent his mind from the knotty and ungrateful part
of his business, grew more remiss in his application to
it, and indulged to his youth and appetite that license
and satisfaction that it desired, and for which he
had opportunity enough, and could not be without
ministers abundant for any such negotiations ; the
time itself, and the young people thereof of either sex
having been educated in aU the liberty of vice, without
reprehension or restraint."
The last words appear to apply with singular
propriety to the case of Barbara Palmer ; though
throughout his works the Chancellor carefuUy avoids
mentioning her name, never designating her otherwise
than as " the lady " when, later, he is compeUed to
allude to her. But the unfortunate Roger, at any rate,
could not be included among the young people indicted
by Clarendon. He was, on the other hand, one of
those who besieged the King with requests for a
reward for services rendered. As has been men
tioned, there survives a petition which he made in
the June after Charles's return for the Marshalship of

34 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
the King's Bench Prison, representing that he had
" promoted the Royal cause at the utmost hazard of
life and great loss of fortune." It appears from the
Domestic State Papers of Charles II that it was not
until November 1661 that the warrant was made out
for a grant to Palmer of the reversion of this coveted
office after Sir John Lenthall ; and by that time much
had happened to make the King inclined to be
generous to him.
If he had to wait for the royal recognition of his
services, Roger Palmer in the meanwhile had a position
of some credit. In the Parliament which met for the
first time on April 25 th, and played its part in welcom
ing the King back to England, he was the representa
tive for New Windsor. He took a house, at what date
is not known, in King's Street, Westminster, described
by Pepys as the " house which was Whally's " ; that is to
say, it was formerly occupied by Major-General Edward
WhaUey the regicide, who had fled to America on the
Restoration. Here Palmer resided in the early days of
the Restoration summer with his wife, within easy
reach of the Palace at Whitehall ; " My Lord's
lodgings " (as Pepys caUs Sir Edward Montagu's town
house in King's Street) which were next door to the
Palmers', giving access to the Privy Garden of the
Palace. It was strange, even at the first, that Roger should
have been ignorant of his wife's famiharity with the
King, if it commenced at the end of May ; but such
seems to have been the case. The earUest contem
porary indication of a scandal is to be found in Pepys,

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 35
writing on July 13th, 1660. The diarist had gone to
the house of his kinsman and patron on business.
" Late writing letters," he says ; " and great doings of
music at the next house, which was Whally's ; the
King and Dukes there with Madame Palmer, a pretty
woman that they have taken a fancy to, to make her
husband a cuckold. Here at the old door that did go
into his lodgings, my Lord, I, and W. Howe, did stand
listening a great while to the music."
Three months afterwards, Pepys went on a Sunday
to the Chapel Royal attached to WhitehaU Palace,
" where one Dr. Crofts [the Dean] made an indifferent
sermon, and after it an anthem, iU sung, which made
the King laugh." Here also he " observed how the
Duke of York and Mrs. Palmer did talk to one another
very wantonly through the hangings that parts the
King's closet and the closet where the ladies sit."
Charles and James had forgotten their upbringing ;
for in a fragment of diary for 1677-8 kept by Dr.
Edward Lake, chaplain and tutor to the Princesses
Mary and Anne, we are told how " the Bishop of
Exeter, discoursing of and lamenting the debaucherys
of the nation, and particularly of the Court, imputed
them to the untimely death of the old King, who was
always very severe in the education of his present
Majesty : insomuch that at St. Mary's in Oxford, hee
did once hit him on the head with his staffe when he did
observe him to laugh (at sermon time) upon the ladys
who sat against him."
Pepys had not yet, it appears, conceived that vast
admiration for the royal favourite to which he so

36 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
amusingly confesses later. But the beginning of it
can be seen in his entry for the foUowing April,
when " by the favour of one Mr. Bowman " he was
admitted to a performance before the Court, in the
Cockpit, of The Humorous Lieutenant, by Beaumont
and Fletcher. The play Pepys found " not very weU
done." " But," he says, " my pleasure was great to see
the manner of it, and so many great beauties, but
above aU Mrs. Palmer, with whom the King do discover
a great deal of famiUarity."
It is not until three months later that Pepys actuaUy
styles the lady " the King's mistress." Yet an event
had occurred which might have put the matter beyond
aU question, had not Barbara Palmer's conduct nearly
always left room for an element of doubt in such cases.
About the end of January 1661 Barbara lost her
stepfather. His death does not appear to have
attracted much attention. In fact, its exact date is
not recorded, though his burial took place on February
4th. The Earl of Anglesea made no impression on the
affairs of his Ufetime, and his stepdaughter had no
reason to be grateful to him for any care he had
bestowed upon her during the years when she Uved
under his roof. Had he survived a few weeks longer
he would have seen her the mother of a child to whom
different people assigned three fathers. Anne, after
wards Countess of Sussex, was born on February
25th, and was accepted by Roger Palmer as his
daughter. It is only Palmer's subsequent behaviour
which prevents us from regarding him now as one of
Saint-Evremond's " docUe EngUsh husbands." As

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 37
for the King — whether it was that he reaUy thought
Anne was Palmer's or that he was precluded from
recognising her as his child, the mother not yet having
had her position made regular even after the manner
of such connections — he did not definitely acknow
ledge the paternity until the time of Anne's marriage
to Lord Dacre in 1674. ^n that year he treated her
and his undisputed daughter Charlotte on precisely
the same footing.
But there were many who said that the real father
of the first child was Lord Chesterfield, claiming that
Anne Palmer (or Fitzroy) resembled him in face and
person. The supposed likeness, however, is the only
evidence put forward in support of the theory.
Chesterfield's pubUshed remains do not give any hint
of his fatherhood to Anne. Early in 1660 he had
married his second wife Lady Elizabeth Butler, eldest
daughter of Charles's trusted counseUor and Claren
don's friend, the Duke of Ormonde. In the foUowing
year we find him writing to Barbara two letters some
what cautiously worded, from which it is clear that he
has somehow offended her. "After so many years'
service, fideUty, and respect," he says in one, " to be
banished for the first offence is very hard, especially
after my asking so many pardons." " Let me not
five," begins the other, " if I did believe that aU the
women on earth could have given mee so great an
affliction as I have suffer'd by your displeasure. . . .
If you will neither answer my letters, nor speak to mee
before I goe out of town, it is more than an even lay I
shall never come into it againe."

3 8 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
As to what aroused Barbara's extreme displeasure
there is no indication. Perhaps it was the mere fact of
Chesterfield's marriage, ladies of her kind being apt,
when they have once really bestowed their affection
(as undoubtedly Barbara had on Chesterfield), to
demand in return a constancy as strict as though they
were themselves immaculate. But it was assuredly
not her first lover's devotion to his wife which stirred
her to anger; for of the three ladies whom he married
during the course of his Ufe, the beautiful EUzabeth
Butler was the one for whom Chesterfield felt the
least affection. The lively and malicious Memoirs of
Gramont adduce some reason for this, stating that
the second Lady Chesterfield's heart, " ever open to
tender sentiments, was neither scrupulous in point of
constancy nor nice in point of sincerity." Anthony
Hamilton, who wrote the Memoirs for his brother-in-
law, the Comte de Gramont, was cousin to the lady,
and should have known what her character was like.
He represents her as being on very intimate terms with
his brother James, of whom we shall hear again.
After the birth of her daughter, Barbara Palmer
was in stronger favour than ever with the King.
Pepys records various appearances of hers at the
theatre. We have already seen her at the Cockpit in
AprU. On July 23 rd Pepys, in the afternoon, finding
himself unfit for business, goes to see SuckUng's
Brennoralt for the first time. " It seemed a good play,
but UI acted," he comments j " only I sat before Mrs.
Palmer, the King's mistress, and filled my eyes with
her, which much pleased me." He was now fuUy

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 39
under the spell of her beauty. Again on August 27th
he goes with his wife to The Jovial Crew, the King,
the Duke and Duchess of York, and Madame Palmer
being present ; " and my wife, to her great content,
had a fuU sight of them all the while." On September
7th he is with his wife at " Bartholomew Fayre with
the puppet-show, acted to-day, which had not been
these forty years." The Pepyses seated themselves
" close by the King, and Duke of York, and Madame
Palmer, which was great content ; and, indeed, I
can never enough admire her beauty." Yet only a
week earlier the writer is lamenting the condition of
affairs at Court, where " things are in a very ill
condition, there being so much emulacion, poverty,
and the vices of drinking, swearing, and loose amours,
that I know not what will be the end of it, but con
fusion " ! Pepys very successfully managed to admire
the sinner and (in words at least) abhor the sin. But
as it is owing to his admiration of this particular
sinner's beauty that we owe his frequent allusions to her
appearances in pubhc, when other writers are silent,
we can but feel grateful to him for his weakness.
One more aUusion to the lady is to be found in the
Diary for the year 1661. On December 7th Pepys
sees at the office of the Privy Seal " a patent for Roger
Palmer (Madam Palmer's husband) to be Earl of
Castlemaine and Baron of Limbricke in Ireland."
He continues : " The honour is tied up to the males
got of the body of this wife, the Lady Barbary : the
reason whereof every body knows."
There have come down to the present day two

40 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
short autograph notes from King Charles to Sir
WiUiam Morrice, one of his Secretaries of State. In
the first, dated " WhitehaU, 16 Octr.," Charles says :
" Prepare a warrant for Mr. Roger Palmer to be an
Irish Earle, to him and his heirs of his body gotten on
Barbara Palmer, his now wife, with the date blank " —
a postscript adding : " Let me have it as soon as you
can." The second message has the date " WhitehaU,
8 Nov., morning," and runs : " Prepare a warrant for
Mr. Roger Palmer to be barron of Limbericke and
Earle of Castlemaine, in the same forme as the last
was, and let me have it before dinner."
The King was about to bestow upon her whom
Bishop Burnet caUs " his first and longest mistress "
the earUest of the pubhc manifestations of his f eeUngs
for her — and the only one in which her husband was to
share. There was a reason, or perhaps it should be
said that there were two reasons, why he should
speciaUy wish to afford her gratification at this time.
In the first place, he was preparing to take to himself
a lawful consort ; and, secondly, Barbara was now in
expectation of a chfld about whose paternity there
was never any discussion.
On the afternoon of Sunday, November ioth, 1661,
Pepys went and sat with Mr. Turner in his pew at St.
Gregory's — the church which, nineteen months pre
viously, had witnessed the wedding of Roger Palmer
and Barbara ViUiers — and there he heard " our Queen
Katherine, the first time by name as such, pubUckly
prayed for." The proposal of a marriage between
Charles, then Prince of Wales, and Catherine of

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 41
Braganza had been made as far back as sixteen years
previously by the lady's father, King Juan of Portugal,
when she was but seven years old. It was renewed
tentatively by the Portuguese Ambassador in England
as soon as the Restoration looked probable, and on
Charles's return took definite shape. Portugal, poor as
she was through her struggle with her late masters the
Spaniards, offered a very handsome dowry, including
two milUon crusados (about .£300,000) and the
settlements of Tangier and Bombay. The idea of the
marriage was very popular with the Portuguese. But
the Spanish Court was very strongly against it, and
attempts were made to dissuade Charles from it
through the agency of the Earl of Bristol, a Roman
CathoUc peer in high favour at Madrid, and Baron de
Watteville, the Spanish Ambassador in London.
Catherine was declared to be incapable of bearing
children, while as good a dowry as Portugal offered
was promised with any princess whom Charles might
marry in her stead with the approval of Spain.
Moreover, the Vatican was, so to speak, in the pocket
of Spain at this time, and therefore Rome's blessing on
the Anglo-Portuguese union was not to be expected.
In the end, however, France threw her weight into
the scale in support of Portugal, and Charles made
up his mind to enter upon the marriage. On May
8th, 1 661, the opening day of the first Parhament
elected during his reign, he announced to the two
Houses his intention of wedding Catherine of
Braganza. Six weeks later the marriage treaty was
signed, to Sir Edward Montagu, now Lord Sandwich,

42 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
being assigned the duty of bringing over the Princess
in the foUowing spring.
To no one could the signing of the treaty of
marriage be of more serious importance than to the
royal mistress, and the grant of a title to the Palmers
has aU the appearance of an attempt at consolation
on the part of the King. His Majesty, however, in his
desire to confer this honour on his favourite was met
by a great difficulty. His ChanceUor and Treasurer,
both indispensable to him, would have nothing to do
with Mrs. Palmer, and united together by a fast friend
ship stood out against Charles's designs in her regard.
They resolved, says Bishop Burnet, " never to make
appUcation to her nor to let anything pass in which
her name was mentioned." Burnet finds this conduct
" noble in both these lords," but especially in Claren
don. Southampton was not much concerned whether
he lost his office or not, and had not such powerful
enemies. But the ChanceUor " was both more pushed
at and was more concerned to preserve himself, so that
his firmness was truly heroical."
Clarendon himself tells us, with regard to Barbara's
mortal hatred for him, that she weU knew " that there
had been an inviolable friendship between her father
and him to his death . . . and that he was an im
placable enemy to the power and interest she had with
the King, and had used aU the endeavours he could to
destroy it."
In concert with the lady the King devised a way of
circumventing the opposition which he knew that the
Chancellor would offer to the conferring of a title upon

BARBARA'S MARRIAGE 43
Roger Palmer. As we have seen, he asked his Secretary
of State for a warrant for Palmer to be an Irish earl.
According to Burnet, this plan was first suggested by
Lord Orrery, one of the Lords Justices of Ireland.
Its advantage was that the patent would not have to
come before the Lord Chancellor of England. It was
sent over to Ireland to pass the Great Seal there. For
the present, the matter was kept secret from Clarendon
and other hostile persons. What the Chancellor
thought when the news was divulged to him by the
King we shaU see below. Here we may mention a story
told by him of an attempt by the Earl of Bristol (who
hated him) to make capital of the delay. Bristol went
to the favourite and asked her whether the patent was
passed. She answered no, whereon he told her that
it had been taken to the Chancellor ready for the
Great Seal, but that he, " according to his custom,
had superciliously said that he would first speak with
the King of it, and that in the meantime it would not
pass ; and that if she did not make the King very
sensible of this his insolence, His Majesty should never
be judge of his own bounty." The lady laughed and
" made sharp reflections on the principles of the
Earl of Bristol. Then, pulling the warrant out of her
pocket, where she said it had remained ever since it
was signed, and she believed the Chancellor had heard
of it : she was sure there was no patent prepared, and
therefore he could not stop it at the Seal."
Barbara, therefore, although she had the satisfaction
of knowing that she would before long be called Lady
Castlemaine, was compelled to wait for a while. As

44 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
for the prospective Earl, there is no ground for
assuming that he felt any pleasure at the bestowal of
this pubUc mark of the King's affection for his wife.
Clarendon, indeed, represents Barbara as being in fear
that he would try to stop the passing of the patent.1
He was clearly now at last " sensible of his wife's
infidehty," though untU the birth, which was soon
expected, of her first son by Charles he made no open
break with her.
1 Clarendon, calling Palmer "a private gentleman of a competent
fortune, that had not the ambition to be a better man than he was born,"
says that he " knew too well the consideration that he paid for it [his
earldom], and abhorred the brand of such a nobility and did not in a
long time assume the title." He is said never to have taken his seat
in the Irish House of Lords.

From a painting by Sir Peter Lely

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

CHAPTER III
THE AFFAIR OF THE QUEEN'S
BEDCHAMBER
~*HE period preceding the arrival in England of
Catherine of Braganza was one of anxiety to the
newly created Countess. She had her title, it was
true, and probably had already extracted from Charles
a promise of a further honour, about which we shall
hear soon. But the approach of the royal marriage
encouraged the tongues of those who disliked her
ascendancy over the King to greater boldness against
her. Pepys, on January 22nd, 1662, hears of "factions
(private ones at Court) about Madam Palmer."
" What it is about I know not," he adds. " But it is
something about the King's favour to her now that
the Queen is coming." On AprU 13th Mr. Pickering
teUs him how aU the ladies " envy my Lady Castle
maine," presumably on account of her title, which
seems now coming into general use. And on the 21st
of the same month the diarist gets hold of a choicer
piece of gossip from Sir Thomas Crew, how that " my
Lady Duchess of Richmond and Castlemaine had a
faUing out the other day ; and she did caU the latter
Jane Shore, and did hope to see her come to the same
end that she did."
This was not the only time that the name of Jane
45

46 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Shore was to be coupled with the Countess's ; and
the comparison could scarcely be gratifying to her.
But my Lady Castlemaine probably was at no loss for
a retort, if we may judge by her powers of abuse at
other times.
The uncharitable lady who made the remark on the
present occasion was a kinswoman of Barbara, by
birth Mary ViUiers, daughter of the first Duke of
Buckingham, and married first to Lord Herbert and
secondly to the Duke of Richmond and Lennox, by
whom she was left again a widow in 1655. The reason
for the Duchess's enmity toward the Royal mistress is
nowhere stated ; but her brother George was also
hostile to Barbara during the greater part of his career
at Court, so that there may have been some family
quarrel of which we do not know the particulars.
The ladies at Court made a shrewd guess that King
Charles would find it difficult to shake off his mistress's
yoke. Lady Sandwich, talking to Pepys on May 14th,
is " afeared that my Lady Castlemaine wiU keep with
the King." " And I am afeard she wiU not," writes
Pepys ingenuously, " for I love her well." Seven days
later the entry in his Diary is more artless stUl. He
goes with Mrs. Pepys to Lord Sandwich's lodgings
and walks with her in WhitehaU Privy Garden. " And
in the Privy Garden saw the finest smocks and linnen
petticoats of my Lady Castlemaine's, laced with rich
lace at the bottom, that ever I saw ; and did me good
to look upon them." Going out to dinner the same
day with his wife and Sarah, Lord Sandwich's house
keeper, he is told by the latter " how the King dined

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 47
at my Lady Castlemaine's, and supped, every day and
night the last week ; and the night that the bonfires
were made for joy of the Queen's arrivall, the King was
there ; but there was no fire at her door, though at all
the rest of the doors almost in the street ; which was
much observed. . . . But she is now a most discon
solate creature, and comes not out of doors since the
King's going." After dinner they proceeded to the
theatre and " there with much pleasure gazed upon
her " — out of doors after all, it seems, in spite of her
disconsolate state — " but it troubles us to see her look
dejectedly and slighted by people already."
The King left London and the disconsolate lady
on May 19th, having been unable to proceed to
Portsmouth hitherto owing to the necessity of pro
roguing Parhament before he went. But Catherine
had reached England as early as the 13th. Her de
parture from Lisbon with Lord Sandwich, on board
The Royal Charles, had been delayed by a dispute as
to the form in which a most important part of her
dowry should be paid (Portugal offering " sugars and
other commoditys and bills of exchange " in lieu of
the promised crusados), or she would have arrived
earlier still. Off the Isle of Wight the Royal Charles
was boarded by the Duke of York, accompanied by
Lord Chesterfield among others, whom Charles had
appointed chamberlain to his bride. In his Notes
Chesterfield records that His Royal Highness, out of
compliment to the King, would not salute — that is,
kiss — Catherine, " to the end that His Majesty might
be the first man that ever received that favour, she

48 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
coming out of a country where it was not the fashion."
In his Letters there is one to his friend Mr. Bates
(written after the King had reached Portsmouth),
which contains a description of Catherine worth trans
cribing :
" You may credit her being a very extraordinary
woman," he writes ; " that is, extreamly devout,
extreamly discreet, very fond of her husband, and the
owner of a good understanding. As to her person,
she is exactly shaped, and has lovely hands, exceUent
eyes, a good countenance, a pleasing voice, fine haire,
and, in a word, is what an understanding man would
wish a wife. Yet, I fear aU this will hardly make
things run in the right channel ; but, if it should, I
suppose our Court will require a new modeUing."
Charles was at Portsmouth on May 20th, and on the
foUowing day was married to Catherine, first secretly
in her bedchamber, according to the Roman Catholic
rites (on which she insisted), and then publicly by the
Bishop of London. On his wedding day he wrote
to the Lord Chancellor : " If I have any skiU in
visiognomy, which I think I have, she must be as good
a woman as was ever borne." On the 25th he wrote
again : " I cannot easily teU you how happy I think
myself e ; and I must be the worst man living (which
I hope I am not) if I be not a good husband. I am
confident never two humors were better fitted to
gether than ours are." How he proceeded to prove
himself a good husband will shortly appear. In the
meantime it may be noted that Reresby says that,
though at Portsmouth " everything was gay and

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 49
splendid and profusely joyful, it was easy to discern
that the King was not excessively charmed with his
new bride " ; and, according to Lord Dartmouth, the
King told old Colonel Legge (i.e. William Legge, Dart
mouth's" father) that when he first saw the Queen " he
thought they had brought him a bat instead of a woman."
Clarendon, recipient of his King's good resolutions
concerning his behaviour to his wife, has much to say
concerning Charles and Catherine dviring the period
immediately following their meeting at Portsmouth.
Speaking of the " full presumption " which there was
that the King after his marriage would contain him
self within the strict bounds of virtue and conscience,
he continues : " And that His Majesty himself had
that firm resolution, there want not many arguments,
as weU from the exceUent temper and justice of his
own nature as from the professions he had made with
some solemnity to persons who were believed to have
much credit, and who had not failed to do their duty,
in putting him in mind ' of the infinite obligations he
had to God Almighty, and that he expected another
kind of return from him, in the purity of mind and
integrity of life ' ; of which His Majesty was piously
sensible, albeit there was all possible pains taken by
that company which were admitted to his hours of
pleasure, to divert and corrupt aU those impressions
and principles, which his own conscience and reverent
esteem of Providence did suggest to him."
As for the Queen, Clarendon says that she " had
beauty and wit enough to make herself very agreeable "
to Charles, and that " it is very certain that at their

50 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
first meeting, and for some time after, the King had
very good satisfaction in her, and without doubt made
very good resolutions within himself and promised
himself a happy and innocent life in her company,
without any such uxoriousness as might draw the
reputation upon him of being governed by his wife."
Charles had observed the inconvenient effects of such
uxoriousness as this and had protested against it,
according to Clarendon ; though " they who knew
him well did not think him so much superior to such
a condescension " himself, had only the Queen been
like some of her predecessors on the throne. The
writer might have mentioned, and no doubt had in
mind, Queen Henrietta Maria, the inconvenient effects
of whose influence over her husband he had only too
good reason to appreciate.
But Catherine of Braganza was of a very different
stamp from that of her mother-in-law. " Bred,
according to the mode and discipline of her country,
in a monastery, where she had only seen the women
who attended her and conversed with the religious
who resided there, and without doubt in her inclina
tions . . . enough disposed to have been one of that
number," she brought with her from Portugal a large
suite of men and women whom Clarendon considered
" the most improper to promote that conformity in
the Queen that was necessary for her condition and
future happiness that could be chosen : the women
for the most part old and ugly and proud, incapable
of any conversation with persons of quality and a
liberal education." (We are reminded of Evelyn's

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 51
description of the Queen's " traine of Portuguese
ladies in their monstrous fardingals or guard-infantas,
their complexions olivader and sufficiently unagree
able " ; and of Pepys's " Portugall ladys, which are come
to town before the Queen, . . . not handsome, and
their farthingales a strange dress.") These ladies,
whom the English critics found so unpleasing to the
eye, desired to keep the Queen under their own con
trol and to prevent her from learning the language or
adopting the manners and fashions of her new country.
On reaching Portsmouth, Catherine had been met by
some of the ladies of honour assigned to her by Charles,
but had refused to receive them until the King him
self came ; " nor then with any grace or the liberty
which belonged to their places and offices." 1 His
Majesty had sent also a wardrobe of English clothes to
Portsmouth, which at first Catherine declined to wear,
preferring the farthingales in which she had arrived.
But, finding that the King was displeased and would
be obeyed, she conformed to his wishes, much to the
disgust of her Portuguese women. They persisted in
dressing in their accustomed mode, regardless of the
offence to English taste.
On May 25th, at once his birthday and the anni
versary of his Restoration, Charles brought his bride
to Hampton Court, where it was intended to pass the
1 It is only fair to state that the Portuguese side of the case, which
is given by Miss Strickland in Lives of the Queens of England Vol. V,
represents Catherine as gracious to the English ladies and quite docile
in the matter of dress. It is difficult to see, however, why Clarendon
should misrepresent the Queen, to whom he was a better friend than
most at the English Court.

52 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
greater part of the summer. And here he planned to
introduce to Catherine the lady who had illicitly
occupied her place before her arrival in England. He
had doubtless promised Lady Castlemaine to do so
as early as the matter could be arranged. But the
Countess's bodily condition prevented the intro
duction from taking place at once. At some time in the
first half of June she gave birth to her eldest son Charles
" Palmer," afterwards called Fitzroy. She had had the
assurance, according to what Lady Sandwich told
Pepys in May, to talk of going to Hampton Court
for the birth. But this, perhaps, was more than even
Charles II could tolerate at the time of his marriage,
and the event accordingly took place at Lord Castle
maine's house in King Street.
If the day of the little Charles's birth is not known,
the register of St. Margaret's, Westminster, gives
the date of his christening. Here we read : " 1662
June 18 Charles Palmer Ld Limbricke, s. to ye right
honorble Roger Earl of Castlemaine by Barbara." This
entry is a monument to the last act but one in the
married life of Lord and Lady Castlemaine. The Earl
some time before the child's birth became a Roman
Catholic, and now insisted upon his being baptized
by a priest — which is curious, as he can have been under
no impression that Charles was his son. He got his
way, but at the cost of a falling out with his wife. Of
this " Mrs. Sarah " told Pepys next month ; and,
living next door to the Castlemaines, she was doubtless
fuUy informed of aU that went on there. Lady
Castlemaine " had it again christened by a minister ;

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 53
the King, and Lord of Oxford, and Duchesse of
Suffolk, being witnesses ; and christened with a proviso
that it had not already been christened." Pepys here
writes Duchess for Countess, the godmother being
Barbara, Countess of Suffolk, eldest daughter of Sir
Edward ViUiers, and therefore Lady Castlemaine's
aunt. Otherwise his information was right.
The King had practically made public acknow
ledgment of his fatherhood of the so-called Charles
Palmer. He now proceeded to carry out his promise
of presenting the mother to his wife. We cannot do
better than give Clarendon's celebrated account of
the scene which took place, noting that the date given
— within a day or two after Her Majesty's being
at Hampton Court — cannot be correct. The presenta
tion must have taken place after Lady Castlemaine
had arisen from bed, and it is not likely to have pre
ceded the christening.
" When the Queen came to Hampton-court," says
Clarendon, " she brought with her a formed resolution,
that she would never suffer the lady who was so much
spoken of to be in her presence : and afterwards to
those she would trust she said, ' her mother had en
joined her so to do.' On the other hand, the King
thought that he had so well prepared her to give her a
civil reception, that within a day or two after Her
Majesty's being there, himself led her into her cham
ber, and presented her to the Queen, who received her
with the same grace as she had done the rest ; there
being many lords and other ladies at the same time
there. But whether Her Majesty in the instant knew

54 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
who she was, or upon recollection found it afterwards,
she was no sooner sat in her chair, but her colour
changed, and tears gushed out of her eyes, and her
nose bled, and she fainted ; so that she was forthwith
removed into another room, and all the company re
tired out of that where she was before. And this
falling out so notoriously when so many persons were
present, the King looked upon it with wonderful in
dignation, and as an earnest of defiance for the decision
of the supremacy and who should govern, upon which
point he was the most jealous and the most resolute
of any man ; and the answer he received from the Queen,
which kept up the obstinacy, displeased him more."
One of the principal sufferers from this Royal
quarrel was the Portuguese Ambassador, Dom Fran
cisco de Mello de Torres, who had done so
much to promote the match between them and had
been made a marquis as a reward. Already there had
been some difficulty through the inability of Portugal
to pay more than half the portion promised with
Catherine. Now Charles was indignant with him
" for having said so much in Portugal to provoke the
Queen, and not instructing her enough to make her
unconcerned in what had been before her time, and
in which she could not reasonably be concerned " ;
and Catherine, who was god-daughter to de Mello,
still more for " the character he had given of the
King, of his virtue and good nature." The poor
Ambassador fell iU and nearly died before he was
forgiven for the blunders which he had made under
the impression that he was acting for the best.

From aphotograph by IV. A. Mansell 6f Co., of ter a painting
in the National Portrait Gallery by Jacob Huysmans

CATHERINE OF BRAGANZA, QUEEN OF CHARLES II

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 55
After the scene described above, Charles, according
to the Chancellor's account, " forebore Her Majesty's
company, and sought ease and refreshment in that
jolly company to which in the evenings he grew every
day more indulgent, and in which there were some
who desired rather to inflame than to pacify his dis
content. And they found an expedient to vindicate
his royal jurisdiction, and to make it manifest to the
world that he would not be governed." This ex
pedient was to magnify the temper and constitution
of his grandfather ! His Majesty King James I, they
pointed out, " when he was enamoured, and found a
return answerable to his merit, did not dissemble his
passion, nor suffered it to be matter of reproach to the
persons whom he loved ; but made aU others pay them
that respect which he thought them worthy of :
brought them to the court, and obliged his own wife
the Queen to treat them with grace and favour ; gave
them the highest titles of honour, to draw reverence
and application to them from aU the court and aU the
kingdom ; raised the children he had by them to the
reputation, state, and degree of princes of the blood,
and conferred fortunes and offices upon them ac
cordingly." They reproached the present King, who
had the same passions as his grandfather, for
lacking " the gratitude and noble inclination to make
returns proportionable to the obligations he received,"
and said : " That he had, by the charms of his person
and his professions, prevailed upon the affections and
heart of a young and beautiful lady of a noble extrac
tion, whose father had lost his life in the service of the

56 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
crown. That she had provoked the jealousy and rage
of her husband to that degree, that he had separated
himself from her : and now the Queen's indignation
had made the matter so notorious to the world, that
the disconsolate lady had no place of retreat left, but
must be made an object of infamy and contempt to all
her sex, and to the whole world."
This touching picture of the wronged lady (which,
by the way, seems premature, as Lord and Lady
Castlemaine did not definitely separate until July 14th,
if Pepys is correct) did its part in spurring Charles on
to bestow a fresh honour upon her. He " resolved,
for the vindication of her honour and innocence, that
she should be admitted of the bedchamber of the
Queen, as the only means to convince the world that
all aspersions upon her had been without ground. The
King used all the ways he could, by treating the Queen
with all caresses, to dispose her to gratify him in this
particular, as a matter in which his honour was con
cerned and engaged ; and protested unto her, which
at that time he did intend to observe, ' that he had
not the least familiarity with her since Her Majesty's
arrival, nor would ever after be guilty of it again, but
would live always with Her Majesty in aU fidelity for
conscience sake.' The Queen, who was naturally more
transported with choler than her countenance declared
her to be, had not the temper to entertain him with
those discourses which the vivacity of her wit could
very plentifuUy have suggested to her ; but broke out
into a torrent of rage, which increased the former
prejudice, confirmed the King in the resolution he had

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 57
taken, gave iU people more credit to mention her dis
respectfully, and more increased his aversion from her
company, and, which was worse, his delight in those
who meant that he should neither love his wife or his
business, or anything but their conversation."
When did Charles first resolve to have Lady Castle
maine appointed to the Queen's Bedchamber ? Claren
don, we see, makes him treat the appointment as a
kind of reparation for the scorn of the world, which
she had incurred through her connection with him.
Did he make up his mind after the Hampton Court
scene, or had she herself suggested the idea to him
before Catherine's arrival in England ? Among the
State Papers of the year 1662 there is preserved a
warrant, dated April 2nd, for the Countess of Suffolk
to be " Groomess of the Stole," First Lady of the
Bedchamber, Mistress of the Robes, and Keeper of
the Privy Purse to the Queen when her Household
should be established ; and we read in a letter from
Lord Sandwich to Clarendon on May 15th of
Catherine's reception of " my Lady Suffolke and the
ladies." But we find no warrant appointing sub
ordinate Ladies of the Bedchamber until as late as
June 1663.
It looks as if Charles, having already decided on
Lady Castlemaine's inclusion in the Queen's House
hold, but anticipating trouble over it, had kept back
the appointment of all the ladies (except the indis
pensable Countess of Suffolk) until he could coerce the
Queen into accepting the whole suite.
Now, met by Catherine's point-blank refusal to

58 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
accept the Countess of Castlemaine, Charles called
upon his Chancellor to take a hand in the affair. It
would have been better for Clarendon had he declined
the commission. But could he do so except by re
signing his office and retiring into private life, to expose
himself to the assaults of his foes ? The King was
insistent that he should undertake the task, and when
Charles set his mind to get a thing done it was hardly
possible to contradict him. " You and I know what
a spark he is at going through with anything," wrote
Anne, Countess of Sunderland, about Charles on a
later occasion to her friend Henry Sidney.
Clarendon is at great pains to prove his friendly
intention toward the Queen in going to her from the
King and to report his plain speaking in the presence of
His Majesty before he set out on his errand. He
represents himself as not having heard before this " of
the honour the King had done that lady " — the lady's
name is, as always, unmentioned — " nor of the pur
pose he had to make her of his wife's bedchamber."
With regard to the latter resolve, he says that he
spoke to Charles about " the hard-heartedness and
cruelty in laying such a command upon the Queen,
which flesh and blood could not comply with." He
reminded him how he himself had censured " the like
excess which a neighbour King had lately used, in
making his mistress live in the court, and in the pres
ence of the Queen," which Charles had declared a piece
of ill-nature that he could never be guilty of. In his
righteous indignation at the French King's conduct
Charles, it appears, had said that, if ever he should be

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 59
guilty of having a mistress after he had a wife (which
he hoped he never should be), she should never come
where his wife was ; for he would never add that to the
vexation of which she would have enough without it !
After some truly English reflections upon the lower
state of morality in France, the ChanceUor warned his
master that there was no surer way to lose the affections
of his people than by indulging himself, after his
marriage, in that excess which had already lost him
some ground. He concluded by asking His Majesty's
pardon for speaking so plainly and beseeching him " to
remember the wonderful things which God had done
for him, and for which he expected other returns than
he had yet received."
Few kings have been better able to bear a rating
with good humour than Charles II. Clarendon says
now : " The King heard him with patience enough,
yet with those little interruptions which were natural
to him, especially to that part where he had leveUed
the mistresses of kings and princes with other lewd
women, at which he expressed some indignation, being
an argument often debated before him by those who
would have them looked upon above any other men's
wives. He did not appear displeased with the liberty
he had taken, but said he knew it proceeded from the
affection he had for him ; and then proceeded upon
the several parts of what he had said, more volubly
than he used to do, as upon points in which he was
conversant and had heard weU debated."
The most interesting part of the King's argument,
however, was the impassioned appeal with which he

60 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
concluded on behalf of his favourite ; which, indeed,
is so curious that no apology need be offered for
quoting it in full from the pages of Clarendon.
Charles said : " That he had undone this lady, and
ruined her reputation, which had been fair and un
tainted till her friendship for him ; and that he was
obliged in conscience and honour to repair her to the
utmost of his power. That he would always avow to
have a great friendship for her, which he owed as well
to the memory of her father as to her own person ;
and that he would look upon it as the highest disrespect
to him in anybody who should treat her otherwise than
was due to her own birth and the dignity to which
he had raised her. That he liked her company and
conversation, from which he would not be restrained,
because he knew there was and should be all innocence
in it : and that his wife should never have cause to
complain that he brake his vows to her, if she would
live towards him as a good wife ought to do, in
rendering herself grateful and acceptable to him, which
it was in her power to do ; but if she would continue
uneasy to him, he could not answer for himself that
he should not endeavour to seek content in other com
pany. That he had proceeded so far in the business
that concerned the lady, and was so deeply engaged
in it, that she would not only be exposed to all imagin
able contempt, if it succeeded not ; but his own
honour would suffer so much that he should become
ridiculous to the world and be thought too in pupilage
under a governor ; and therefore he would expect and
exact a conformity from his wife herein, which should

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 61
be the only hard thing he would ever require from
her, and which she herself might make very easy, for
the lady would behave herself with all possible duty
and humility unto her, which if she should fail to do
in the least degree, she should never see the King's
face again : and that he would never be engaged to
put any other servant about her, without first con
sulting with her and receiving her consent and appro
bation. Upon the whole," he said, " he would never
recede from any part of the resolution he had taken
and expressed to him : and therefore he required him
to use all those arguments to the Queen which were
necessary to induce her to a full compliance with what
the King desired."
Clarendon's account of the King's obstinate deter
mination to gain his end is supplemented by a letter
which survives in the British Museum from Charles
to his ChanceUor, which, though undated, obviously
belongs to this period and may have been written
immediately after the interview above described. It
runs as follows :
" I forgott, when you weare heere last, to desire you
to give Brodericke1 good counceU, not to meddle any
more with what concerns my Lady Castlemaine, and
to lett him have a care how he is the authorre of any
scandalous reports ; for if I find him guUty of any
such thing, I will make him repent it to the last
moment of his life. And now I am entered on this
matter, I think it very necessary to give you a little
1 " Brodericke " is Sir Alan Broderick, appointed about this time
Provost-Marshal of Munster.

62 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
good counceU in it, least you may think that, by
making a further stirr in the businesse, you may
deverte me from my resolution, which aU the world
shall never do : and I wish I may be unhappy in this
world and the world to come, if I faile in the least
degree what I have resolved ; which is, of making my
Lady Castlemaine of my wives bedchamber : and
whosoever I find use any endeavour to hinder this
resolution of myne (except it be only to myselfe), I
wiU be his enemy to the last moment of my life. You
know how true a friend I have been to you. If you
wiU oblige me eternaUy, make this businesse as easy
as you can, of what opinion soever you are of ; for I
am resolved to go through with this matter, lett what
will come of it ; which againe I solemnly sweare before
Almighty God. Therefore, if you desire to have the
continuance of my friendship, meddle no more with
this businesse, except it be to beare down all false
scandalous reports, and to facilitate what I am sure
my honour is so much concerned in : and whosoever
I finde to be my Lady Castlemaines enimy in this
matter, I do promise, upon my word, to be his enimy
as long as I live. You may show this letter to my
Ld. Lnt.1; and if you have both a minde to oblige me,
carry yourselves like friends to me in this matter.
" Charles R."
To execute his commission from the King, it was
necessary for Clarendon to have two interviews with
the Queen. When he first approached her, before he
could do more than express his regrets about the royal
1 The Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, namely, the Duke of Ormonde,
who went to take up his post at the beginning of July 1662. Evelyn
visited London to take leave of him and the Duchess on July 8th.

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 63
misunderstanding, Catherine gave way to so much
passion and such a torrent of tears that he retired,
teUing her he would wait upon her in a fitter season.
Next day he made a second attempt, which promised
well at the start. Clarendon reports the dialogue with
more humour than usuaUy is to be found in his pages.
When he had explained that if he said to her what
was fit for her to hear rather than what pleased her,
she must take it as evidence of his devotion to her, the
Queen assured him he should never be more welcome
to her than when he told her of her faults. " To
which he replied that it was the province that he was
accused of usurping with reference to all his friends."
And so his lecture began. " He told her that he
doubted she was little beholden to her education, that
had given her no better information of the follies and
iniquities of mankind, of which he presumed the
climate from whence she came could have given more
instances than this cold region would afford " — though
at that time, adds Clarendon, it was indeed very hot
in England !
Had Her Majesty been fairly dealt with in the matter
of education, continued the Chancellor, she would not
now think her condition so insupportable. He could
not comprehend the ground of her complaint. With
" some blushing and confusion and some tears,"
Catherine explained that she did not think she should
have found the King engaged in his affections to
another lady. Did she then expect, asked Clarendon,
to find the King, at his age, of so innocent a constitu
tion as to be reserved for her whom he had never

64 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
seen ? And did she believe that when it should please
God to send a queen to Portugal she would find that
court so fuU of chaste affections ? " Upon which Her
Majesty smiled, and spake pleasantly enough, but as
if she thought it did not concern her case, and as if
the King's affection had not wandered, but remained
fixed." The ChanceUor appeared to be gaining his end.
Assuring Catherine that, of whatever excesses His
Majesty had been guilty in the past, he was now
dedicating himself entirely and without reserve to
her, and that her good fortune was in her own power,
he persuaded her to express her gratitude toward the
King, her desire to be pardoned for any passion or
peevishness in the past, and her assurance of obedience
in the future.
With what feelings Clarendon now approached the
second part of his task, he does not tell us. Having
brought the Queen to so good a temper, he lost no
time in urging her to show her resignation to whatso
ever His Majesty should desire of her. He then " in
sinuated what would be acceptable with reference to
the lady." No sooner had he done this than the
storm burst. Catherine exhibited " all the rage and
fury of yesterday, with fewer tears, the fire appearing
in her eyes where the water was." Rather than sub
mit to the insult of having Lady Castlemaine attached
to her Bedchamber, she declared, she would get on
board any little boat and go to Lisbon. Clarendon
interrupted her with the reminder that she had not
the disposal of her own person and with a warning not

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 65
to speak any more about Portugal, since there were
plenty who wished her there. He then left her with
the doubtless admirable advice, if she denied any
thing to the King, " to deny in such a manner as
should look rather like a deferring than an utter
refusal." It is true that the attitude assumed by the ChanceUor
toward Catherine, somewhat resembling that of master
toward school-chfld, would have been more appro
priate had he been counseUing her to the practice of
virtue rather than the overlooking of vice. Yet we
can see from his account of the whole affair that he
was really much more sympathetic toward the Queen
than he allowed himself to seem in his speech ; and
he appears to have beUeved Charles's promises of
amendment of life, if only his debt to Lady Castle
maine could first be paid by giving her a suitable post
at Court. In reporting to Charles the result of his
labours he asked him not to press the Queen in the
matter for a day or two, but to let him first have
another interview with her, from which he hoped to
get better satisfaction.
The King, however, had other advisers, who were
anxious to see him insist on immediate submission.
Playing upon his fear of being governed, they soon
counteracted the ChanceUor's influence, and in conse
quence the crisis was precipitated that very night at
Hampton Court ; and of course the matter was soon
known to all there. The royal couple began with
mutual reproaches, Charles aUeging stubbornness and
want of duty ; Catherine tyranny and want of affec-

66 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
tion. Then came threats, on Charles's part, of con
duct which, according to Clarendon, he never meant
to put into execution ; on Catherine's, of a return to
Portugal. The Queen had disregarded the Chancel
lor's advice about the mention of her country, and
was at once put in a position to appreciate her folly.
Charles told her that she would do well first to know
how her mother would receive her ; in order to let
her discover which he would send home all her Portu
guese servants, to whose counsels he imputed her
perverseness. After this outburst, the relations between King
and Queen were very strained during the remainder
of their stay at Hampton Court. The Queen sat
weeping in her chamber — that chamber which Evelyn
visited on June 9th of this summer and found so
magnificently furnished, with its state bed costing
.£8000, its toilet-set of beaten and massive gold, and
the Indian cabinets brought by Catherine herself
from Portugal, such as had never before been seen in
England. Or, if she were not weeping, she was in
dulging in violent talk over her wrongs. The King
spent aU his nights in merriment with the company
which he preferred, and only came to the Queen's
chamber in the morning ; " for," says Clarendon,
" he never slept in any other place." This concession
to his wife, however, seems to have had little effect.
The courtiers noticed that King and Queen never
spoke and hardly looked at one another. It is rather
curious to read Pepys's " Observations " set down in
his Diary at the end of June 1662. " This I take to

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 67
be as bad a juncture as ever I observed," he says.
" The King and his new Queen minding their pleasures
at Hampton Court. All people discontented," etc.
Clearly Pepys was for the moment out of touch with
Court affairs, for otherwise he could not have written
of Catherine, at least, " minding her pleasures at
Hampton Court." A few days after he had penned
his Observations he was given some further in
sight into affairs at Hampton Court, since on July
6th Lady Sandwich told him, " with much trouble,
that my Lady Castlemaine is still as great with the
King, and that the King comes as often to her as ever
he did." " At which, God forgive me," adds the
diarist, " I am well pleased." The fears which he
expresses earlier of the admired one's nose being put
" out of joynt " are allayed, and he appears not to
give a thought to the Queen.
Charles determined to make another effort to bend
Catherine to his will with the aid of the Chancellor,
and a few days after the quarrel sent for him and
informed him — though Clarendon could hardly be
in any doubt upon the point — of the unalterableness
of his resolution. In reply to his minister's remon
strances on the anger and precipitation with which he
had acted, he allowed that he might have done better
had he listened to advice, but said that, " besides the
uneasiness and pain within himself, the thing was more
spoken of in aU places and more to his disadvantage,
whilst it was in this suspense, than it would be when it
was once executed, which would put a final end to aU
debates, and all would be forgotten."

68 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
So the Chancellor set off once again on his errand
to Her Majesty, and engaged with her in an argument
which he reports very fully. But Catherine remained
obdurate. Beginning with tears, as she acknowledged
her excessive passion at the former interviews, and
then listening with an incredulous smUe to the
Chancellor's protestations of the King's sincerity of
purpose with regard to his future conduct, she finaUy
declared that " the King might do what he pleased,
but she would not consent to it." Her face, as she
said this, showed Clarendon that she both hoped and
believed that her obstinacy would in the end prevail
over the King's importunity. Accordingly he left
her, proceeded to Charles with his account of his ill
success, and, after expressing his opinion that both
parties were very much to blame and that " the most
excusable would be the one who yielded first," begged
to be excused from further employment in the affair.
It was indeed an iU day for him when he consented
to take any part in it whatever. Not only did his
reputation suffer thereby at the hands of his critics,
but his lack of success with the Queen caused a coolness
toward him on the part of Charles and certainly no
kindlier feeling on the part of Lady Castlemaine.
When Clarendon retired from the ungrateful busi
ness, the King promptly put into execution his threat
against the Queen's Portuguese suite. As Charles I,
but in very different circumstances, had driven out
Henrietta Maria's French priests and women, so now
his son named a day for Catherine's Portuguese to
leave England ; and he insisted on his orders being

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 69
carried out, only relenting so far as to allow her to
retain the invalid Countess of Penalva, sister of the
Ambassador Francisco de Mello, who had been her
companion from a child, a few priests, and some
inferior servants. Moreover, he avoided meeting her
as much as he could, refused to speak to her when
they did meet, and spent his time with those who,
in Clarendon's words, " made it their business to laugh
at all the world and were as bold with God Almighty
as with any of his creatures."
Apart from his desire to be as soon as possible
governor in his own home, Charles seems to have
had one reason for hastening Catherine's acquiescence
in his demand which is not directly mentioned in any
of the contemporary accounts of the affair. The
Queen-Dowager, Henrietta Maria, was expected from
France on a visit to congratulate her son and her new
daughter-in-law on their marriage. Charles must have
been anxious to bring about a state of peace in his
household before his mother's arrival. He took the
step of bringing Lady Castlemaine into Catherine's
presence a second time, without waiting for her con
sent to the Bedchamber appointment.
This we learn through a letter from Clarendon to
Ormonde on July 17th. " The Kinge is perfectly
recovered of his indisposicons in which you left
him," says the Chancellor. " I wish he were as free
from all other. I have had, since I saw you, 3 or 4
full long conferences, with much better temper than
before. I have likewise twice spoken at large with the
Queene. The Lady hath beene at courte, and kissed

70 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
her hande, and returned that night. I cannot tell
you ther was no discomposure. ..."
Now we know that, four days before this letter was
written, a great change had taken place in Lady
Castlemaine's life. She had left her husband's house
in King Street, and gone to the home of her uncle,
Colonel Sir Edward Villiers, knight-marshal of the
royal household, who lived at Richmond Palace.
Pepys gives July 15th as the date on which " my Lady
Castlemaine (being quite fallen out with her husband)
did go away from him with her plate, jewels, and other
best things." To confirm this date of the separation,
there is in existence a bond, dated July 16th, 1662,
which the Earl obtained from two of his wife's uncles,
the Lords Suffolk and Grandison, binding them in the
sum of ten thousand pounds to indemnify him " from
aU and every manner of debts, contracts, sum and
sums of money now due, or that shall hereafter grow
due, from any contract or bargain made by the Right
Honourable Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine, or by
any person or persons authorised by her."
In this move of the lady to Richmond Pepys sees a
design to get out of town that the King might come
at her the better. " But strange it is," he comments,
" how for her beauty I am willing to construe all this
to the best and to pity her wherein it is to her hurt,
though I know well enough she is " — not what she
should be. On the 26th of the same month Mrs. Sarah
gives Pepys some further information about the falling
out of my Lord and my Lady, and how the latter
had taken away from King Street " so much as every

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 71
dish and cloth and servant, except the porter." Pepys
continues : " He is gone discontented into France,
they say, to enter a monastery ; and now she is coming
back again to her house in King Street. But I hear
that the Queen did prick her out of the list presented
her by the King ; desiring that she might have that
favour done her, or that he would send her from
whence she came ; and that the King was angry and
the Queen discontented a whole day and night upon
it ; but that the King hath promised to have nothing
to do with her hereafter. But I cannot believe that
the King can fling her off so, he loving her too well."
If Castlemaine went to France at all in July, it
must have been on a very brief visit, for he was in
London again before the end of August. But the
break with his faithless wife was permanent, neverthe
less. They lived together no more after the day of
her departure for Richmond. The husband effaced
himself, as soon as he was aUowed, from the scene of
his disgrace.1 It was not long before, as Boyer ex
presses it, " the misfortunes of his bed put him into
a vein of travelling," which continued with but occa
sional interruptions until late in the reign of Charles II.
As for the wife, she carried all before her. After he
had for the second time forced her presence on the
Queen, Charles seems to have felt that the victory
was won.
We read in Clarendon that " the lady came to the
Court, was lodged there, was every day in the Queen's
presence, and the King in continual conference with
1 See below, p. 82.

72 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
her ; while the Queen sat untaken notice of : and if
Her Majesty rose at the indignity and retired into her
chamber, it may be one or two attended her ; but
all the company remained in the room she left, and
too often said those things aloud which nobody ought
to have whispered." Charles himself threw off the
troubled looks which he had worn at the beginning of
the quarrel and " appeared every day more gay and
pleasant, without any clouds in his face, and full of
good humour." This only increased poor Catherine's
humiliation. She saw mirth around her everywhere,
except in her own immediate neighbourhood, and
" the lady " being treated with more respect than
herself, even by her own personal servants, who found
her less able to do anything for them than the favourite.
As for the King, all that she had of his company each
day was " those few hours which remained of the
preceding night and which were too little for sleep."
The Queen-Dowager had, in the meantime, arrived
at Hampton Court. On July 19th the King went
down the Thames in his barge, on his way to the
Downs, whither the Duke of York had already gone,
to meet her. " Methought," observes Pepys, " it
lessened my esteem of a king, that he should not be
able to command the rain," the weather just now
being so wet that the diarist, who was having the top
of his house at the Navy Office reconstructed, was
sadly inconvenienced by the superabundance of water.
The King's impotence where the weather was con
cerned was to be further manifested ; for the royal
yacht and its escorts were very roughly treated by

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 73
a storm, and Henrietta Maria's crossing was so delayed
that it was not until the 28th that she reached Green
wich and awaited at the Palace there the first call from
Charles and his bride. By the end of the month the
whole Court was gathered together again at Hampton
Court preparatory to the return to Whitehall for the
winter. What Henrietta Maria thought of the state of
affairs between her son and her daughter-in-law, we
do not hear. But, as we are not told so, we may assume
that she did not intervene on Catherine's behalf. The
young Queen — her twenty-fourth birthday had yet
to come — was left entirely without any influential
supporter in a strange land, and it speaks highly for
her courage and determination that she could hold
out so long in the unequal struggle.
The move from Hampton Court to Whitehall was
now made. Fortunately for posterity, the spectacle-
loving Pepys was an eye-witness of the scene on
August 23rd, in which Lady Castlemaine played a
notable part — at least in his admiring eyes. He and
his friend Mr. Creed vainly tried to get a boat to
convey them from Upper Thames Street to Whitehall,
the boatmen refusing to be tempted by an offer of
eight shillings on such an occasion.
" So we fairly walked it to WhitehaU," he writes,
" and through my Lord's lodgings we got into White
hall garden, and so to the Bowling-green, and up to
the top of the new Banqueting House there, over the
Thames, which was a most pleasant place as any I
could have got. . . . Anon come the King and Queen

74 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
in a barge under a canopy with 10,000 barges and
boats, I think, for we could see no water for them,
nor discern the King nor Queen. And so they landed
at WhitehaU Bridge, and the great guns on the other
side went off. But that which pleased me best was
that my Lady Castlemaine stood over against us upon
a piece of Whitehall, where I glutted myself with
looking on her. But methought it was strange to see
her Lord and her upon the same place walking up
and down without taking notice one of another, only
at first entry he put off his hat, and she made him a
very civil salute, but afterwards took no notice one of
another ; but both of them now and then would take
their child, which the nurse held in her armes, and
dandle it. One thing more ; there happened a
scaffold below to fall, and we feared some hurt, but
there was none but she of all the great ladies only
run down among the common rabble to see what
hurt was done, and did take care of a child that
received some little hurt, which methought was so
noble. Anon came one there booted and spurred
that she talked long with. And by and by, she being
in her hair, she put on his hat, which was but an
ordinary one, to keep the wind off. But methinks it
became her mightily, as everything else do. The show
being over, I went away, not weary with looking at
her." This account is interesting in many ways, and not
least for its record of an amiable trait in Lady Castle
maine's character which her other critics nowhere
discover. We can hardly accuse Pepys of inventing
it, however, in spite of his partiality for her whom it so
delighted him to have Lady Sandwich call " your lady."

THE QUEEN'S BEDCHAMBER 75
The Court had hardly settled down at Whitehall
before the victory of the mistress over the Queen was
the talk of everyone. In the Bodleian Library at
Oxford there is preserved an instructive letter from
Clarendon to Ormonde, dated September 9th, 1662,
part of which is as follows : " All things are bad with
reference to the Lady ; but I think not so bad as you
heare. Every body takes her to be of the bedchamber ;
for she is always there, and goes abrode in the coach.
But the Queene tells me that the King promised her,
on condition she would use her as she doth others,
that she should never live in Court : yet lodgings, I
hear, she hath. I heare of no back staires."
In spite of the fact, however, that everybody took
her to be of the Bedchamber, Lady Castlemaine was
not definitely appointed until nine months later.
Among the Domestic State Papers of Charles II there
is a warrant dated June ist, 1663, to admit " Lady
Chesterfield, the Countess of Bath, the Duchess of
Buckingham, Countess Marishal, and of Countess
Castlemaine " as Ladies of the Bedchamber to the
Queen. The reason for the delay in the issue of
the warrant, after Catherine's surrender, we do not
know ; but that she had really given way is proved
by the scene at Somerset House mentioned at the
beginning of the next chapter.
Clarendon — having told how the Queen " at last,
when it was least expected or suspected, on a sudden
let herself fall first to conversation and then to
familiarity, and even in the same instant to a confidence
with the lady ; was merry with her in public, talked

76 ' MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
kindly of her, and in private used nobody more
friendly " — sees her injured in the general esteem by
her condescension, and says that " this sudden down
fall and total abandoning her own greatness, this low
demeanour and even application to a person she had
justly abhorred and worthily contemned, made all
men conclude that it was a hard matter to know her
and consequently to serve her."
Poor Catherine ! What chance had she of pleasing
anyone at such a Court as that of her husband ? And
what wonder can there be that a deterioration in her
character foUowed her early years in England. She
arrived with piety and modesty her most marked traits.
She became flighty (not in morals, be it said, but
in general deportment), fond of excitement, and
avaricious. Not having the makings of a saint, she
refrained from becoming a sinner, but faUed, in
attempting to steer a middle course, to prove herself
an agreeable woman.
As for the effect of his victory on the King, Claren
don sees the esteem which he had in his heart for
Catherine growing much less after her surrender, while
" he congratulated his own ill-natured perseverance,
by which he had discovered how he was to behave
himself hereafter, and what remedies he was to apply
to all future indispositions, nor had he ever after the
same value of her wit, judgment, and understanding,
which he had formerly."

Front an engraving by W. Sherwin
BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

CHAPTER IV
THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY
/^\N Sunday, September 7th, 1662, Samuel Pepys,
being alone in town — his too trustful wife having
gone on a visit to the country during the presence of
the workmen in their house — met " Mr. Pierce the
chyrurgeon," and was by him taken to Somerset House,
the palace assigned to the Queen-Mother, and recently
altered by her at a great cost. Here, in Henrietta
Maria's presence-chamber, he saw both her and, for
the first time, Queen Catherine, of whom he says :
" Though she be not very charming, yet she hath a
good, modest, and innocent look, which is pleasing."
We wiU let Pepys describe the rest of the company :
" Here I also saw Madam Castlemaine, and, which
pleased me most, Mr. Crofts, the King's bastard, a
most pretty spark of about 15 years old,1 who, I per
ceive, do hang much upon my Lady Castlemaine, and
is always with her ; and, I hear, the Queens both of
them are mighty kind to him. By and by in comes
the King, and anon the Duke and his Duchess ; so
that, they being all together, was such a sight as I
never could almost have happened to see with so much
1 He was in reality only thirteen and a half, being born on April
9th, 1649. n

78 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
ease and leisure. They staid till it was dark, and then
went away ; the King and his Queen, and my Lady
Castlemaine, in one coach and the rest in other coaches.
Here were great store of great ladies, but very few
handsome." From this scene (to which Pepys gets admittance
with what now seems such astonishing ease) it is clear
how far the young Queen had condescended to tolerate
the presence of Lady Castlemaine, whom indeed we
see " abrode in the coach " precisely as described by
Clarendon to Ormonde. To make the situation the
more remarkable, there is the most pretty spark, Mr.
Crofts, who, of course, is none other than James,
afterwards Duke of Monmouth, the King's son by
Lucy Walter. The eldest of Charles's illegitimate
children (with the exception of the rather mysterious
James de la Cloche, who after becoming a Jesuit
vanished from authenticated history about the end of
the year 1668), the future Duke took his temporary
surname from the " Mr. Croftes, since created Lord
Croftes," whom Evelyn records having met on his visit
to the exiled Court in France in 1649. Appointed by
Charles as guardian to the nine-year-old boy in 1658,
WiUiam Crofts also lent him a name which he con
tinued to bear until on his marriage to his heiress
bride he was legally furnished with that of Scott.
Henrietta Maria's object in taking up the boy is
not clear, except that he was an attractive child and
that she wished to please her son. We have Clarendon's
testimony that she frequently had him brought to her,
while in France, and " used him with much grace."

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 79
In taking him with her to England in 1662 she was
acting at the King's request. Charles was certainly
making bold demands upon his wife's complacency.
Having obliged her to take one of his mistresses as a
lady in attendance upon her, he now introduced to her
acquaintance his natural son by another mistress. He
himself received the child " with extraordinary fond
ness," his ChanceUor writes, " and was wiUing that
everybody should believe him to be his son, though he
did not yet make any declaration that he looked upon
him as such, otherwise than by his kindness and
fammarity towards him." This was sufficient, how
ever, within a very short space of time to arouse the
suspicions of the Duke of York, between whom and the
King there was rumoured a difference before the end
of this year.
Pepys, a fortnight after the Somerset House recep
tion, bears witness again to the intimacy now evidently
existing between Lady Castlemaine and the Queen ;
for, being in the Park on Sunday morning, he has the
fortune to see Catherine going by coach to her chapel at
St. James's, ready the first time that day for the Roman
Catholic services for which her marriage treaty stipu
lated. The inquisitive Pepys " crowded after her "
and succeeded in getting close to " the room where
her closet is " — Her Majesty's private pew. He ad
mired much the fine altar, the priests with their fire
copes, and many other very fine things. As for the
music, it might be good, he allowed, but it did not
appear so to him. He noticed that the Queen was
very devout. " But what pleased me best was to see

80 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
my dear Lady Castlemaine, who, tho' a Protestant,
did wait upon the Queen to chapel."
In spite of what Clarendon wrote early in September
to Ormonde about the mistress's lodgings, she evi
dently continued to make use of her husband's King
Street house at the beginning of October. For on the
6th of that month we find her giving a ball there,
at which the King is present. Nor has Lord Castle
maine yet left England a month later, " being still
in town, and sometimes seeing of her, though never
to eat or lie together." It seems, therefore, as if
Charles continued at this time to make a feeble out
ward show of keeping his promise to the Queen that
the lady should never live at Court, if she would only
use her as she did others. As we shall see, the
Countess was not lodged at Whitehall, to public
knowledge, until April, 1663.
But, wherever she was residing for the moment,
Barbara's influence was aU-powerful, extending even
to the choice of the King's ministers. On October
17th Mr. Creed tells Pepys how at Court " the young
men get uppermost and the old serious lords are out
of favour." The place of Sir Edward Nicholas,
Secretary of State, is given to Sir Henry Bennet,
formerly private secretary to the Duke of York and
later to be first Baron, and then Earl of, Arlington ;
and the Privy Purse to Sir Charles Berkeley, " a most
vicious person."1 These two and Lady Castlemaine
1 So says Pepys, and it was the common opinion of the day. But
the King, Clarendon tells us, loved him "every day with more passion,
for what reason no man knew nor could imagine." King Charles

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 81
between them have the King's ear. The two, indeed,
we hear from Clarendon, " were most devoted to the
lady, and much depended upon her interest, and conse
quently were ready to do anything that would be
grateful to her." While they made a point of keeping
on good terms with the Chancellor, he could not but
feel that his influence over the King declined with
their appointment.
In fact, a week later " Mr. Pierce the chyrurgeon "
draws for Pepys a very gloomy picture of how things
are going at Court. Pierce has had a promise of
being made surgeon to the Queen, but is in doubt
whether to take the post, since the King shows no
countenance to any that belong to her. Her private
physician has told Pierce that " the Queen do know
how the King orders things, and how he carries himself
to my Lady Castlemaine and others, as weU as any
body ; but though she hath spirit enough, yet seeing
that she do no good by taking notice of it, for the
present she forbears it in policy ; of which I am
very glad," adds Pepys. He notices the public dis
content at the general state of affairs, " what with the
sale of Dunkirk " — concluded this year at the price of
five hundred thousand pistoles — " and my Lady
Castlemaine and her faction at Court ; though I know
not what they would have more than to debauch the
King, whom God preserve from it ! " But " the
wrote to his sister Henrietta in 1665 on receiving the news of the
battle of South wold Bay, at which Berkeley, then Earl of Falmouth,
was killed : " I have had as great a losse as 'tis possible in a good frinde,
poore C. Barckley." The Gramont Memoirs, strange to say, are
extremely kind to Berkeley's character.
G

82 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
King is very kind to the Queen," we are told on
December 15th, Dr. Clerke on this occasion being
Pepys's informant.
It was public property, at Court at least, that the
favourite was expecting another child by His Majesty,
though Lord Castlemaine, being still in town, could
be represented as the father. Charles kept him in
England for this very reason, in spite of his desire to
set out on his travels.
" Strange how the King is bewitched to this pretty
Castlemaine ! " exclaims Pepys, as he records another
piece of Court gossip. Very oddly, Carte in his Life
of the Duke of Ormonde tells a story how Queen
Catherine actually believed that the lady had be
witched the King. Carte is speaking of Peter Talbot
the Jesuit, who, after the royal marriage, was one of
the priests who officiated in the Queen's household.
" His busy nature did not suffer him to continue long
in that post ; he was always telling the Queen some
story or other, and the uneasiness which she suffered
in October 1662, upon Lady Castlemaine's being put
about her, was imputed in a good measure to his in
sinuations. There is a Spanish word frequently used
by lovers in that country to their mistresses, and which
likewise signifies an enchantress. Talbot had un
happily made use of this expression in his discourse ;
and the good Queen, not being used to the language of
lovers, nor comprehending the true meaning of the
word, presently imagined the Countess of Castlemaine
to be a real sorceress. In consequence of this notion,
and in great tenderness to the King's person, she

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 83
cautioned him against the lady, and expressed her
fears in such a manner that he was puzzled a good
while to know her meaning. But finding her very
serious in the matter, he inquired how she came to
entertain so wrong a notion ; she ascribed it to Peter
Talbot, who being now involved with the Duke of
Bucks in contriving to make the mischief which at that
time distracted the Court, was ordered to depart the
kingdom." On New Year's Eve our most useful of informants
has the happiness of seeing the Royal Ball at Whitehall.
He is taken by Mr. Povy into the room where the ball
is to be, crammed with fine ladies. " By and by comes
the King and Queen, the Duke and Duchess, and aU
the great ones : and after seating themselves, the
King takes out the Duchess of York ; and the Duke,
the Duchess of Buckingham ; the Duke of Mon
mouth, my Lady Castlemaine ; and so other lords
other ladies : and they danced the Bransle. After
that, the King led a lady a single Coranto ; and then
the rest of the lords, one after another, other ladies :
very noble it was, and great pleasure to see. Then
to country dances ; the King leading the first, which
he caUed for ; which was, says he, ' Cuckolds all awry,'
the old dance of England. Of the ladies that danced,
the Duke of Monmouth's mistress, and my Lady
Castlemaine, and a daughter of Sir Harry de Vicke's,
were the best. The manner was, when the King
dances, aU the ladies in the room, and the Queen her
self, stand up : and indeed he dances rarely, and much
better than the Duke of York. Having staid here as

84 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
long as I thought fit, to my infinite content, it being
the greatest pleasure I could wish now to see at Court,
I went out, leaving them dancing."
Yet in his closing note upon the year 1662 the
diarist is not so dazzled by the scene which he has just
witnessed as to close his eyes to the ill state of affairs
at Court. He sees the King " following his pleasure
more than with good advice he would do ; ... his
dalliance with my Lady Castlemaine being publique,
every day, to his great reproach ; and his favouring
of none at Court much as those that are the confidants
of his pleasure, as Sir H. Bennet and Sir Charles
Barkeley ; which, good God ! put it into his heart
to mend, before he makes himself too much contemned
by his people for it ! "
In the same strain he begins again his record of 1663,
after Mrs. Sarah has told him how the King sups at
least four or five times every week with my Lady
Castlemaine — we hear later that he has not supped
with the Queen for a quarter of a year and almost
every night with the lady — and how " the very
centrys " notice and speak about his going home in
the morning " through the garden all alone privately."
This and other tales make Pepys very gloomy as to the
Court morals, from top to bottom.
One of these visits of the King to his mistress
attracted particular comment, and this was paid only
a few days after Mrs. Sarah had imparted her gossip
to Pepys. The story is found in the extremely inter
esting collection of letters stiU preserved in the French
Foreign Office, sent by the various French ambassadors

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 85
at Whitehall to Louis XIV and his Foreign Secretary,
Hugues de Lionne. Louis was particularly anxious to
receive from his representatives in England not only
diplomatic inteUigence, but also " the most curious
of the Court news " ; and the ambassadors, especially
the Comte de Cominges (who arrived in this country
at the end of 1662 and left in 1665), did their best to
gratify him — to the great edification of posterity.
Cominges now, writing to Lionne, tells how Madame
Jaret (by whom he means Lady Gerard, wife of a
gentleman of King Charles's Bedchamber) invited the
King and Queen to supper at her house. " All things
were ready, and the company assembled, when the
King left and went off to Madame de Castlemaine's,
where he spent the rest of the evening." It is not sur
prising to hear that this gave rise to much talk and
great heart-burnings. It seems that there was ill-
feeling between the Ladies Castlemaine and Gerard,
and that the former chose to insult her enemy by this
display of authority over the King. Two months
later Pepys heard how " for some words of my Lady
Gerard's against my Lady Castlemaine to the Queen,
the King did the other day affront her in going
out to dance with her at a baU, when she desired it as
the ladies do, and is since forbid attending the Queen
by the King ; which is much talked of, my Lord her
husband being a great favourite."
Pepys was himself a witness on one occasion of the
open way in which the King now paid his visits to the
mistress. He was proceeding with Lord Sandwich
on January 12th to a Navy Office Committee meeting,

86 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
under the presidency of the Duke of York. On the
way through Whitehall garden, to the Duke's chamber,
" a lady called to my Lord out of my Lady Castle
maine's lodging, telling him the King was there and
would speak with him. My Lord could not tell what
to bid me say at the Committee to excuse his absence,
but that he was with the King ; nor would suffer me
to go into the Privy Garden (which is now a through-
passage and common), but bid me go through some
other way, which I did ; so that I see he is a servant of
the King's pleasures too, as well as business."
Burnet, in one of the fragments which he did not
incorporate in his History of my own Time, says : " My
lady Castlemaine was now become very insolent, for
though upon the Queen's first coming over the King's
courtship of her was carried very secretly, yet she would
not rest satisfied unless she were publicly owned. So
that was done this winter " — the winter of 1662-3, he
appears to mean. Assuredly the King could scarcely
have gone further in the direction of publicly owning
her than in the instances which we have mentioned
above. Just about this time, when the former Barbara
ViUiers was at the height of her sway over the King,
her first lover made himself at least a nine days'
wonder at Court by his conduct toward his second
wife Elizabeth, his marriage with whom may have
been the cause of Barbara's " displeasure " with him
in 1661. The beautiful Elizabeth had, whether in-
tentionaUy or not, succeeded in attracting the atten
tion of the Duke of York in the autumn of 1662, and

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 87
Court scandal then said that the Duchess had com
plained about this to the King and to her father Lord
Clarendon, with the result that the lady was sent to
the country. But in December she was allowed to
return to Court, only for the scandal to break out
again and a second banishment to follow. Pepys is
favourable to the lady. His version of the affair,
after a talk with Dr. Clerke, is as follows. It seems
that Lord Chesterfield, he says, " not only hath
been long jealous of the Duke of York, but did
find them two talking together, though there were
others in the room, and the lady by all opinions
a most good, virtuous woman. He, the next day
(of which the Duke was warned by somebody that
saw the passion my Lord Chesterfield was in the night
before), went and told the Duke how much he did
apprehend himself wronged, in his picking out his
lady of the whole Court to be the subject of his dis
honour ; which the Duke did answer with great calm
ness, not seeming to understand the reason of com
plaint, and that was all that passed : but my Lord did
presently pack his lady into the country in Derby
shire, near the Peake." Thither he followed her him
self in May.
Gramont, always more vivacious than" veracious,
teUs a very long and circumstantial tale about the
Duke and the Countess, and some green stockings, and
Lord Chesterfield's jealousy. What historical value
should be attached to the tale may be gathered from
two sentences in a letter written by Sir Charles Lyttel
ton to Viscount Hatton, on August 8th, 1671. "As

88 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
for the story of the silk stockings," says Lyttelton, " I
heare now there was no such thing but an old story
revived of the last King's time." And in a postscript
he adds : " The news I tell of the Dutch admirall is
all false ; so is that of the green stockings."
With the "wife on whom he imposed a very different
code of married life from that which he followed him
self, Chesterfield, according to his own account, spent
the whole of the summer of 1663 at Bretby. There
is no evidence that Lady Castlemaine felt any par
ticular interest in His Lordship now. She was too
much occupied in other affairs to cherish any longer
the passion of her girlhood. She had, if rumours were
true, already commenced to play the King false, if
that expression be permissible in such circumstances.
The scandalmongers attributed to her a kindness to
ward Sir Charles Berkeley, soon to be made Viscount
Fitzharding, whom the King used as a go-between
between himself and her. And Anthony Hamilton
suggests that his eldest brother was on very friendly
terms, for a time at least, with the lady. This was
James Hamilton, Groom of the Bedchamber to the
King, described by his junior as the best-dressed man
at Court, the liveliest wit, most polished courjrier, most
accomplished dancer, and most general lover — this last
point a merit of some account, he observes, in a
court entirely given up to gallantry. The Gramont
Memoirs also mention Henry Jermyn as already
favoured by her. Later the name of Lord Sandwich
is added to the list, and Pepys is evidently inclined to
beheve the report.

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 89
It would be rash to say that Lady Castlemaine took
undue risks in allowing herself to be talked about in
connection with the courtiers of the King her master,
for she proved that she knew eminently well how to
handle Charles II to her own advantage. But it is a
fact that, while these stories were beginning to circulate
about her conduct, there were others just coming to
birth concerning a wandering of the King's affections.
At the end of January 1663, however, the Castle
maine influence is still supreme. One Captain Ferrers,
a lively blade, tells Pepys of " my Lady Castlemaine's
and Sir Charles Barkeley being the great favourites at
Court and growing every day more and more." On
February ist Pepys and Creed, walking in Whitehall
Garden, " did see the King coming privately from
my Lady Castlemaine's ; which is a poor thing for a
prince to do." A week later Ferrers regales the two as
they walk together in the Park on Sunday afternoon,
watching people sliding on the ice, with various " Court
passages " — which, in truth, were very scandalous tales.
One of these introduces, for the first time in the Diary,
the name of the lady who actually did what Pepys had
vainly feared Catherine of Braganza would do, namely,
" put out of joynt " my Lady Castlemaine's nose.
Lady Castlemaine was represented as having, a few
days before, invited " Mrs. SteWart " to an entertain
ment. " And at night began a frolique that they two
must be married, and married they were, with ring and
aU other ceremonies of church service, and ribbands,
and a sack posset in bed, and flinging the stocking."
Ferrers concluded the story with the intervention of

90 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
the King and the downfall of " pretty Mrs. Stewart " ;
which is quite inconsistent with the prevailing belief
of a very evil-minded Court about the young lady, and
may therefore be dismissed as an effort of the imagina
tion — as perhaps the whole story was, in spite of
another of the diarist's gossips affirming the general
acceptation of it.
But about the appearance on the scene of la belle
Stuart and the King's infatuation with her there is no
doubt. Frances, elder daughter of Dr. Walter Stewart
or Stuart,1 third son of Lord Blantyre, and therefore
connected with the Royal Family, came to England
at the beginning of 1663 from Paris, where she had
lived under the protection of her mother and of
Henrietta Maria, to be a maid of honour to Queen
Catherine. She was about fifteen when she reached
the English Court and was commended to Charles by
his sister Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, as " the
prettiest girl in the world and one of the best fitted
of any I know to adorn a Court." Of her prettiness
there can be no doubt, whether we judge by the
testimony of a multitude of her contemporaries or by
the surviving portraits of her. As to her capacity to
adorn a Court, there are more ways than one of inter
preting this claim. Frances does not appear to have
possessed intelligence to match her looks. It was
hardly possible, say the Gramont Memoirs indeed,
for a woman to have less wit or more beauty. She
lived under four sovereigns without making any more
1 We shall in future keep to Stewart, which was the usual spelling
of Frances's family name in her own day.

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 91
enduring mark upon the history of their reigns than
by her appearance as Britannia on our copper coins.
She was certainly circumspect, and as a maid of
honour passed for modest. The Marquis de Ruvigny,
one of Louis's agents in England, declares her to be
" one of the most beautiful girls and one of the most
modest to be seen," even when he is transmitting some
dubious reports as to her position with regard to the
King. Evelyn evidently believed her to be chaste up
to the time of her marriage ; and " good Mr. Evelyn,"
as Pepys calls him, was quite capable of expressing
himself forcibly on the subject of ladies whom he did
not consider virtuous. Clarendon, who thought the
King's passion to be stronger for Frances Stewart than
for any other woman, says that she " carried it with
that discretion and modesty that she made no other
use of it than for the convenience of her own fortune
and subsistence, which was narrow enough." Accord
ing to the Gramont Memoirs, her virtue broke down
before her marriage, overcome by the King's grant
of her request to allow her to be the first to ride in a
new carriage just arrived from France ! But these
memoirs cannot be treated as good evidence unless
strongly supported by other testimony. The secret
of the girl's power over Charles seems to have been a
combination of beauty, artless conversation, and an
obduracy which piqued his vanity and attracted him
by its rarity at his Court.
Frances Stewart soon begins to figure largely in the
writings of the day. On February 23rd she is one
of the ladies noticed by Pepys at a performance of

92 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Dryden's first play The Wild Gallant, at the King's
private theatre at Whitehall. " My Lady Castle
maine was all worth seeing to-night," he says, " and
little Steward." He is unsuspicious of the coming
struggle as yet, and records, on the same date, the
omnipotence of the Royal mistress. " This day was I
told that my Lady Castlemaine hath all the King's
presents, made him by the peers, given to her, which
is a most abominable thing ; and that at the great
ball she was much richer in Jewells than the Queen
and Duchess put both together." He might have
added, had he been aware of it, that it was she who
was the chief patron of Dryden's play, " so poor a
thing " though he thought it. For Dryden wrote to
thank Lady Castlemaine for her encouragement of
him at this time in an adulatory verse epistle.
For a time we only catch glimpses of Lady Castle
maine — at Whitehall, after service in the Chapel
Royal, where among the fine ladies she is " above all,
that only she I can observe for true beauty," as Pepys
quaintly expresses it ; in Hyde Park, where the King
and she, riding in separate coaches, greet one another
at every turn of the Ring, round which it was the
fashion to drive ; at St. George's Feast at Windsor,
when the newly created Duke of Monmouth was
married to the Lady Anne Scott, only child of the
second Earl of Buccleugh, with whom he got a very
large fortune. Unfortunately Pepys was not present
at the ceremony at Windsor. But Gramont, who
probably was, has a few words about it in the Memoirs.
" New festivals and entertainments celebrated this

THE CASTLEMAINE ASCENDANCY 93
marriage," he says. " The most effectual method to
pay court to the King was to outshine the rest in
briUiancy and grandeur. . . . The fair Stewart, then
in the meridian of her glory, attracted aU eyes, and
commanded universal respect and admiration. The
Duchess of Cleveland endeavoured to eclipse her at
this festival by a load of jewels and by all the artificial
ornaments of dress. But it was in vain ; her face
looked rather thin and pale, from the commencement
of a third or fourth pregnancy, which the King was
still pleased to place to his own account ; and, as for
the rest, her person could in no respect stand in com
petition with the grace and beauty of Miss Stewart."
Gramont is, as usual, very loose in his chronology,
for Barbara was not to be Duchess of Cleveland for
another seven years, nor by any means could Frances
Stewart be described as in " the meridian of her
glory " yet. The maid of honour had only very
recently reached England, and the rivalry between her
and the royal mistress had barely commenced. The
elder woman (not yet twenty-two herself) was so
far quite pleased to patronise the little Stewart, as
Gramont himself bears witness later.
On the Court's return from the festivities at Windsor
on April 24th, Charles took a step which must have
settled the doubts of the most charitably minded
persons in the kingdom as to the position of the
Countess of Castlemaine at his Court. Pepys, of course,
has the story early, in fact, on the very next day, how
" she is removed from her own home to a chamber in
Whitehall, next to the King's own ; which I am sorry

94 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
to hear, though I love her much." This news is con
firmed by Dr. Pierce soon after, and was quite true,
for Lady Castlemaine had left King Street and taken
up her abode in the buildings which were included in
Whitehall Palace.
Curiously, the move to Whitehall had scarcely been
made — and also the warrant for creating Lady Castle
maine and other ladies of the Bedchamber to the
Queen passed — when there spread about still more
definite and persistent rumours of an alteration in the
King's affections. Scandal proceeds to couple Frances
Stewart's name with the mistress's, as though they
were on a similar footing with His Majesty ; and,
more astonishing still, the Queen " begins to be
brisk and play like other ladies, and is quite another
woman from what she was," so that there are specula
tions whether the King may not be made to like
her better and forsake Lady Castlemaine and
Mrs. Stewart. Even Pepys seems for a while shaken
in his aUegiance. On June 13th he sees his idol, " who,
I fear, is not so handsome as I have taken her for,
and now she begins to decay something ! " This is
also the opinion of Mrs. Pepys, " for which I am sorry,"
says her husband. He makes handsome amends, how
ever, a year later, when he speaks of " Mrs. Stewart,
who is indeed very pretty, but not like my Lady
Castlemaine, for aU that."

From a photograph by JV. J. Roberts, after a painting by Sir Peter Lely
at GoodivoodJ j-eprodzcced by Permission qf the Earl of Marc Jt
FRANCES STEWART

CHAPTER V
THE RIVALS
~*0 Westminster Hall," says Pepys, on July 3rd,
1663, " and there meeting with Mr. Moore
he tells me great news that my Lady Castlemaine is
fallen from Court, and this morning retired. He
gives me no account of the reason of it, but that it is
so : for which I am sorry : and yet if the King do it
to leave off not only her but all other mistresses, I
should be heartUy glad of it, that he may fall to look
after business."
Next day, as he is dining with Creed very weU
for izd. at the King's Head ordinary, " a pretty
gentleman " in their company confirms the news and
further tells them of " one wipe " the Queen had
recently given the mistress. It appears that the latter
" came in and found the Queen under the dresser's
hands, and had been so long. ' I wonder Your Majesty,'
says she, ' can have the patience to sit so long a-
dressing ? ' — ' I have so much reason to use patience,'
says the Queen, ' that I can very weU bear with it.' "
This gentleman thinks it may be that the Queen has
commanded Lady Castlemaine to retire from Court,
" though that is not likely " in Pepys's opinion.
Nor was it the fact. What had actually happened
95

96 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
is known to us from a letter which the Comte de
Cominges wrote to Louis XIV on July 5 th and which
is among the correspondence from the London Em
bassy preserved in the French Foreign Office. " There
was a great quarrel the other day among the ladies,"
he reports, " which was carried so far that the King
threatened the lady at whose apartments he sups every
evening that he would never set foot there again if he
did not find the Demoiselle with her."
The lady with whom King Charles sups every
evening is, of course, Lady Castlemaine ; and the
Demoiselle is Frances Stewart. The Gramont
Memoirs, which do not record the falling out between
Charles and Lady Castlemaine, have a good deal to
say about the way in which the latter took up the
young maid of honour when she noticed that the
King paid attention to her. " She was not satisfied,"
writes Gramont through his biographer, " with ap
pearing without any degree of uneasiness at a prefer
ence which aU the Court began to remark ; she even
affected to make Miss Stewart her favourite, and in
vited her to all the entertainments she made for the
King . . . being confident that, whenever she thought
fit, she could triumph over all the advantages which
these opportunities could afford Miss Stewart ; but
she was quite mistaken."
The actual quarrel between Charles and his mistress
now was brief, and if her absence from the Royal
coaches in the Ring at Hyde Park on July 5 th
was remarked, it was not because she had been ban
ished from Court. On the contrary, according to the

THE RIVALS 97
story which Captain Ferrers brought Pepys some
weeks later — a story more worthy of belief than some
that he told — " her going away was a fit of her own
upon some slighting words of the King." These
would, of course, be connected with his request that
he might see Frances Stewart in her apartments if
she desired a continuance of his favour. Lady Castle
maine, in a rage, called for her coach and drove off
to her uncle's house at Richmond, whither we have
seen her fly before. But Charles, for all that he was
found by people to be stranger and colder than
ordinary to her, could not spare her. The very next
morning after her departure, he made a pretence of
going hunting at Richmond, called to see her and
make friends, and " never was a-hunting at all."
So my Lady Castlemaine was back at Whitehall,
commanding the King as much as ever and flouting
aU who crossed her will. Another of the loquacious
Captain's stories shows the King stiU absolutely at her
beck and call. On July 21st her cousin, the Duke of
Buckingham, gave a private entertainment to Charles
and Catherine at Wallingford House (on the site of
the present Admiralty Office), and did not invite her.
She was that day at the house of her aunt, Lady
Suffolk, where she was heard to say : " Well, much
good may it do them ! For aU that I will be as merry
as they." So she went home and had a great supper
prepared. Presently to her from WaUingford House
came King Charles, attended by Lord Sandwich, and
spent the night. Not long after we hear of the King
being fetched to her from the very Council-table by Sir

98 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Charles Berkeley. She certainly could not complain
now that she was not openly acknowledged.
Nevertheless, though she might exhibit her sway
over His Majesty in this public way, one thing which
she could not do was to prevent him admiring other
ladies, and in particular Frances Stewart. This
" cunning slut " — the expression is Lord Sandwich's —
who provoked Charles so much that he once hoped to
" five to see her ugly and wiUing," held out stead
fastly against the royal offers. She refused to share
Lady Castlemaine's dishonourable post, while the
latter, to her mortification, was compeUed to treat
her as a friend and never be without her. Meanwhile
she could not but know that people were beginning
to compare her beauty unfavourably with that of her
rival and, though she herself was but twenty-two, to
talk of her decay. As soon as the King could get a
husband for Mrs. Stewart, they said (and, it seems,
with considerable prescience), my Lady Castlemaine's
nose would reaUy be out of joint.
We have heard Pepys's somewhat disiUusioned
criticism on his favourite lady's looks in the June of
this year. A stiU more interesting passage in the Diary,
in which he describes her and the younger beauty-
side by side, is to be found under the date July 13th.
This day, walking in PaU MaU, he finds that the King
and Queen are riding with the ladies of honour
in the Park, and waits with a great crowd of gal
lants to see their return. Thus he describes the
scene :
By and by the King and Queen, who looked in

a

THE RIVALS 99
this dress (a white laced waistcoat and a crimson short
pettycoat, and her hair dressed a la negligence) mighty
pretty ; and the King rode hand in hand with her.
Here was also my Lady Castlemaine rode among the
rest of the ladies ; but the King took, methought,
no notice of her ; nor when they 'light did anybody
press (as she seemed to expect, and staid for it) to
take her down, but was taken down by her own gentle
man. She looked mighty out of humour and had a
yellow plume in her hat (which all took notice of), and
yet is very handsome, but very melancholy : nor did
anybody speak to her, or she so much as smile or speak
to anybody. I followed them up into Whitehall, and
into the Queen's presence, where all the ladies walked,
talking and fiddling with their hats and feathers, and
changing and trying one another's by one another's
heads, and laughing. But it was the finest sight to
me, considering their great beautys and dress, that
ever I did see in all my life. But, above aU, Mrs.
Stewart in this dress, with her hat cocked and a red
plume, with her sweet eye, little Roman nose, and
excellent taiUe, is now the greatest beauty I ever saw,
I think, in my life ; and, if ever woman can, do exceed
my Lady Castlemaine, at least in this dress : nor do I
wonder if the King changes, which I verily believe is
the reason of his coldness to my Lady Castlemaine."
The impressionable Pepys was, indeed, extremely
smitten with Mrs. Stewart this day, as students of the
Diary will remember.
On July 23rd the King and Queen went down to
Tunbridge Wells, the latter having been recommended

ioo MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
by her doctors to try the none too pleasant waters
there as a cure for that which undoubtedly did more
than anything to make Charles so unfaithful to her,
her lack of children. She should have gone in May,
but so short of money was the Royal Household that
the visit could not be made until nearly the last week
in July. The King was in London again four days
later to prorogue Parliament and then returned to
the Wells, where he and Catherine are seen to be on
exceUent terms. Dr. Pierce, who has just purchased
the place of Groom of the Privy Chamber to Her
Majesty, reports to Pepys that she " is grown a very
debonnaire lady, and now hugs him [the King], and
meets him gallopping upon the road, and all the
actions of a fond and pleasant lady that can be." The
King, says Pierce, " has a chat now and then of Mrs,
Stewart, but there is no great danger of her, she being
only an innocent, young, raw girl ; but my Lady
Castlemaine, who rules the King in matters of State,
and do what she list with him, he believes is now
falling quite out of favour."
Lady Castlemaine, it seems, accompanied the Court
to Tunbridge Wells, although she, unlike the Queen,
was expecting very shortly the birth of a child. But
she can have played little part in the amusements of
the Court, of which Cominges gives a glimpse in the
sheet of Court news for August, sent by him to
Louis. " One might well call these the Waters of
Scandal," he writes, " for they have come near ruining
the good names of the maids and the ladies (I mean
those who are there without their husbands). It

THE RIVALS 101
took a whole month, and more in some cases, for them
to justify themselves and save their honour ; and it is
even said that a few of them have not yet got clear.
This is the cause why the Court returns in eight days'
time, leaving one of the Queen's ladies behind to pay
for the others."
After quitting Tunbridge Wells, the Court moved
to Bath for a month, in order that the Queen might
continue her cure. They set out from Vauxhall on
August 26th. There is no mention of the Countess
of Castlemaine accompanying them. On the contrary,
after a conversation with Mrs. Sarah, on September
22nd, Pepys writes : " This day the King and Queen
are to come to Oxford. I hear my Lady Castlemaine
is for certain gone to Oxford to meet him, having lain
within here at home this week or two supposed to
have miscarried."
Mrs. Sarah was usually well informed, and her very
considerable error in one particular here seems to
show that there was a good deal of mystery about the
birth of Henry, second son of Lady Castlemaine,
afterwards Duke of Grafton. Moreover, the date of
the event is supposed to have been September 20th,
1663. Yet the mother starts two days later upon
the journey from London to Oxford, which cannot
have been easy for her at such a time, and is next heard
of in lodgings near Christ Church Meadows on the
morning of the 24th.
King Charles, we know, hesitated for some years to
recognise Henry (Palmer or Fitzroy, as he was at first
variously called) as his child. Lord Castlemaine had

102 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
long ceased living with his wife, and is not heard of in
England later than November 1662. Scandal sug
gested that the father's name was Charles Berkeley,
Lord Fitzharding ; and his office of go-between to the
King and the lady naturaUy aroused such suspicions in
a Court so prone to suspect.
The royal visit to Oxford, for which Lady Castle
maine left London so soon after Henry's birth, lasted
a week. The King and Queen, coming from the west
by way of Cirencester, dined with Lord Chancellor
Clarendon, who was also ChanceUor of the University,
at his house at Cornbury, eight miles outside the city,
on the 23rd. Arriving from the other direction, Lady
Castlemaine may be assumed not to have been present
(she could only have been so uninvited) at the country
home of the man whom she was determined to ruin ;
nor to have assisted, therefore, at the two receptions
of the royal party, first by the University authorities
at the last mile-stone as they entered Oxford, and then
by the Mayor and other civic dignitaries. She did not
see Charles take from the hands of the ChanceUor the
" large fair Bible," covered with black plush, bossed
and clasped with silver double-gilt, etc., of which
Antony Wood tells ; nor, from those of the Mayor,
the purse of white satin, embroidered with the King's
arms and " beset with aglets and pearles," containing
^300 in gold. But she may have seen the further
reception at Christ Church, when the King, arriving
by torchUght through a lane made down St. Giles's by
the city miUtia, was welcomed by the Dean, in whose
lodgings he was to sleep.

THE RIVALS 103
At any rate, she was with Charles again early next
day, for Wood has the following entry under Septem
ber 24th : " The King betimes in the morning went
to Xt. Ch. meed [Christ Church Meadows] to view
and see where the workers were, and called upon the
countess of Castlemaine, who then lay in Dr. Richard
Gardiner's lodgings next to the fields. . . ." Some
blotted words follow, which seem to indicate that Wood
at first expressed an opinion either on the King's
behaviour or on the lady's character, but afterwards
expunged it.
We hear no more of Barbara during this, her first
visit to Oxford. After a busy week, which included
In its programme an audience to the University
authorities at Christ Church, a Convocation at the
Schools, a fox-hunt ending at Cornbury, and two
touchings for the King's Evil in the Cathedral choir,
the whole Court set off for Whitehall on the 30th.
Pepys notes the return of King and Court, " from their
progress," on October ist. He also says, in a later
entry, that he hears that my Lady Castlemaine " is
in as great favour as ever, and that the King supped
with her the very first night he came from Bath," by
which he seems to mean the night of the return to
Whitehall. Two other suppers he also teUs of, given
by Lady Castlemaine to His Majesty at this time. For
one of these there was a chine of beef to roast, but
her kitchen was flooded by the Thames and the cook
came to tell her what had happened. " Zounds ! " said
my Lady, " you must set the house on fire, but it shall
be roasted ! " But, by carrying the chine elsewhither

104 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
to roast, the supper was, in the end, prepared without
burning the house.
It seems as if nothing could induce Charles to fore
go these suppers at Lady Castlemaine's ; not even a
grief which had all the appearance of sincerity. In
the middle of October Queen Catherine suddenly feU
most seriously iU. What her complaint was it is
difficult to make out. Mrs. Sarah says the spotted
fever, and that she is as full of the spots as a leopard ;
whereon Pepys remarks, not very lucidly, " which is
very strange that it should not be more known ; but
perhaps it is not so." On the 17th the doctors gave
but little hope of her recovery. When the King came
to see her that morning she told him she willingly left
all the world but him — at which His Majesty was much
afflicted, according to Arlington, who described the
scene in a letter to the Duke of Buckingham. The
Gramont Memoirs supply further information :
" The Queen was given over by her physicians :
the few Portuguese women that had not been sent
back to their own country filled the Court with dole
ful cries ; and the good nature of the King was much
affected with the situation in which he saw a princess
whom, though he did not love her, yet he greatly
esteemed. She loved him tenderly, and, thinking that
it was the last time she should ever speak to him,
she told him that ' the concern he showed for her
death was enough to make her quit life with regret ;
but that, not possessing charms sufficient to merit his
tenderness, she had at least the consolation in dying
to give place to a consort who might be more worthy
of it and to whom Heaven, perhaps, might grant a

THE RIVALS 105
blessing that had been refused to her.' At these words
she bathed his hands with some tears, which he thought
would be her last ; he mingled his own with hers ;
and, without supposing she would take him at his word,
he conjured her to live for his sake."
Gramont, or Hamilton, cannot omit the sting in
the tail of the anecdote. But Charles scarcely de
served to escape the cynical suggestion when he could
give occasion for the French Ambassador to write as
foUows to his master :
" I am just come from Whitehall, where I left the
Queen in a state in which, according to the doctors,
there is little room for hope. She received extreme
unction this morning. . . . The King seems to me
deeply affected. He supped, nevertheless, yesterday
evening at Madame de Castlemaine's and had his usual
conversations with Mademoiselle Stewart, of whom
he is very fond. There is already talk of his marrying
[again]. Everyone gives him a wife according to his
inclination, and there are some who do not look for
her out of England."
If any confirmation were required of what Cominges
says of the King's behaviour, there is Mrs. Sarah's
report to Pepys, " that the King do seem to take it
much to heart . . . but, for all that, that he hath
not missed one night since she was sick, of supping
with my Lady Castlemaine." Perchance, in his state
of low spirits, His Majesty felt more than ever the
need of that company and conversation from which
he once told Clarendon he would not be restrained.

106 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
The critical state of the Queen's illness, whatever
it was, continued well into the second half of October,
so that people began to prepare for the possibility of
going into mourning. But on the 24th she was out of
danger. " The Queen is in a good way of recovery,"
writes Pepys that day ; " and Sir Francis Pridgeon
[Prujean] hath got great honour by it, it being all
imputed to his cordiall, which in her dispaire did give
her rest and brought her to some hope of recovery." 1
The pious Queen, however, imputed her restoration
to health to her husband's prayers ; and the Poet
Laureate Waller to His Majesty's tears !
" When no healing art prevail'd,
When cordials and elixirs fail'd,
On your pale cheeks he dropt the shower
Reviv'd you like a dying flower."
A pathetic part of the Queen's illness was that in her
delirium she raved about having given birth to an
heir to the throne, whom the King was fain to humour
her by declaring a very pretty boy. Another day she
fancied that she had three children, of whom the girl
was very like the King, and woke from sleep asking,
" How do the children ? " Some at least of the
tragedy of Catherine's life might have been removed
had her dream about a son been true. But the King,
though destined to have several more sons by other
women, was never to have a child from her.
With the Queen restored to health, the old situa
tion continues, the King being, as it were, in the midst
1 It is not until November ioth, however, that she is quite well
again and " hath bespoke herself a new gowne."

THE RIVALS 107
of a triangle of which the angles are the Queen, the
Countess of Castlemaine, and Frances Stewart ; his
wife, his mistress, and the lady who cannot be one
and will not be the other. During the worst crisis of
Catherine's illness it was believed by many that, if
she died, the Uttle maid of honour would become
her lawful successor. And actually we hear of a
" committee," as Lord Sandwich calls it to Pepys, of
Edward Montagu, Sandwich's cousin (afterwards
second Earl of Manchester), Sir H. Bennett, and the
Duke and Duchess of Buckingham, with " somebody
else," whose name is not divulged, " for the getting of
Mrs. Stewart for the King." But Frances, advised by
the Queen-Dowager Henrietta Maria and by her own
mother, proves a cunning slut, and the precious plot is
spoiled. Montagu and the Duke quarrel, and the
former makes up to his kinsman Sandwich, who is a
friend of Lady Castlemaine.
Dr. Pierce adds his contribution to the gossip, telling
" how the King is now become besotted upon Mrs.
Stewart, that he gets into corners, and will be with
her half an houre together kissing her to the observa
tion of all the world." As for my Lady Castlemaine,
" the King is still kind, so as now and then he goes to
have a chat with her, but with no such fondness as he
used to do."
In this curious and disgraceful situation it may be
safely asserted that no one had more reason to be glad
of the Queen's recovery than the royal mistress. Had
Catherine died and Charles taken Frances Stewart
as his second wife, Lady Castlemaine could not have

108 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
continued to rule the King as she had done from
1661. La belle Stuart was no Catherine of Braganza,
as is clear from her diplomatic management of her
importunate royal lover, and from her holding of
her own in this dissolute Court at the age of only
sixteen years.
But if the Countess had grounds for gratitude to
the Queen for continuing to Uve, there is no sign of
any better relations being estabUshed between them
than what may be caUed the armed neutrahty estab
lished after the return from Hampton Court in 1662.
The next step taken by Lady Castlemaine, though it
brought her in a sense nearer to the Queen, scarcely
commended itself to the latter, who could not believe
that it was prompted by conscience. My Lady became
a Roman CathoUc. Cominges writes to Hugues de
Lionne : " The Chevalier de Gramont's marriage 1
and Madame de Castlemaine's conversion were made
public the same day. The King of England, having
been begged by the lady's relatives to interfere to
prevent this step, gaUantly repUed that, as for the
soul of the ladies, he never meddled with that."
There is nothing which gives us any clue to the
immediate reason of Barbara's conversion to Roman
CathoUcism at this present moment. In spite of
Catherine's suspicion, it is difficult to discover any
interested motive for Lady Castlemaine's change of
faith — unless we accept the explanation given in the
1 To the celebrated beauty Elizabeth Hamilton, sister of Antony
Hamilton, Gramont's later biographer ; of James, reputed lover of
Lady Castlemaine — among others; and of four more brothers besides.

From an engraving by J. Engkels, after a picture by Sir Peter Lely

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

THE RIVALS 109
scurrilous Secret History of the Reigns of King Charles
II and King James II, that she knew that the King
was covertly a Papist and " had been often heard to
say that she did not embrace the Catholic religion out
of any esteem that she had for it, but because that
otherwise she could not continue the King's mistress :
and consequently Miss of State." 1
In the popular estimation, never favourably inclined
toward her, Lady Castlemaine undoubtedly did her
self enormous injury by her change, as was to be shown
in the future. The Church of England, however,
could hardly be expected to express much regret at
the defection of such a daughter. When told of
it by WiUiam Penn the Quaker, Edward Stillingfleet
(preacher at the Rolls Chapel and afterwards Dean of
St. Paul's and Bishop of Norwich) remarked that, if
the Church of Rome had got no more by it than the
Church of England had lost, then the matter would
not be much !
A few months after her conversion Lady Castle
maine is seen attending service at the chapel attached
to the French Embassy in the Strand. It is Holy Week
and, Cominges writes to Lionne, " the King has done
me the honour to lend me his French musicians, thanks
to whom a number of people in society come to my
chapel, Madame de Castlemaine especially, whom I
mean to regale as well as I can."
1 Miss Strickland suggests that Lady Castlemaine "was cunningly
preparing, in case of being abandoned by her royal lover, to pave the
way for a reconciliation with her injured husband by embracing his
religion." This does not seem a likely explanation.

no MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
At the beginning of 1664 we continue to hear
regularly of Charles's infatuation with Frances Stewart
and his comparative disregard for his mistress. Dr.
Pierce walks an hour with Pepys in the Matted GaUery
at Whitehall on January 20th, and tells him, among
other things, " that my Lady Castlemaine is not at
all set by by the King, but that he do doat upon Mrs.
Stewart only ; and that to the leaving of aU business
in the world, and to the open slighting of the Queene ;
that he values not who sees him or stands by him while
he dallies with her openly ; and then privately in her
chamber below, where the very sentrys observe his
going in and out ; and that so commonly that the
Duke or any of the nobles, when they would ask where
the King is, they will ordinarily say, ' Is the King above
or below ? ' meaning with Mrs. Stewart : that the
King do not openly disown my Lady Castlemaine, but
that she comes to Court." And, according to Pierce,
Lady Castlemaine consoles herself with Lord Fitz
harding, the Hamiltons, and Lord Sandwich. About
a fortnight later the same informant has more to tell
on the same theme of Charles and the maid of honour,
and how some of the best parts of the Queen's join
ture are " bestowed or rented to my Lord Fitzharding
and Mrs. Stewart and others of that crew." In spite
of which, Mr. Pepys soon after finds " Mrs. Stewart
grown fatter and not so fair as she was " !
My Lady Castlemaine, however, was not one to be
easily slighted. The Diary records a curious scene
at the theatre in Whitehall, where The Indian Queen,
by Dryden and Sir Robert Howard, is being played.

THE RIVALS in
Lady Castlemaine is in her box, next to the royal
box, before Charles comes. On his arrival, " leaning
over other ladies awhile to whisper to the King, she
rose out of the box and went into the King's, and set
herself on the King's right hand, between the King
and the Duke of York ; which he [Dr. Pierce] swears,
put the King himself, as well as every body else, out of
countenance ; and believes that she did it only to
show the world that she is not out of favour yet, as was
believed." A month later Sir Robert Paston, subsequently Earl
of Yarmouth, writing to his wife to describe the scene
at the prorogation of Parliament on March 2nd and
Charles's departure from the House of Lords, says :
" The press drive me up to the King's very elbow, and
I had like to have carried my Lady Castlemaine along
in the crowd, who was pleased very civilly to take
notice of me." It is clear that the lady was not
suffering her King to deprive her of the pleasure
of close association with him in public.
Further, she is able to keep a hold upon him through
his tenderness of heart, for he goes at midnight
to her nurses and takes her child up and dances it in
his arms — the child being the five-months-old Henry,
whom he thus treats kindly, in spite of not yet ac
cepting him as his own offspring.
About this time Lady Castlemaine is supposed to
have moved into new lodgings at WhitehaU Palace.
On January 25 th there had been a fire in her apart
ments, when she bid " .£40 for one to adventure the
fetching of a cabinet out, which at last was got to be

112 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
done." The fire was put out without much damage
to property, but its occurrence may have been made
a reason for a move. At any rate, we learn that on
May 29th, the King's birthday, Charles was " at my
Lady Castlemaine's lodgings (over the hither-gate at
Lambert's lodgings) dancing with fiddlers all night
almost, and all the world coming by taking notice of
it," which Pepys is sorry to hear.
As she is not before this stated to have resided " over
the hither-gate " of WhitehaU, and as " Countess of
Castlemaine's kitchen " is placed in an old survey of
the Palace in the Cockpit buildings, on the West side
of the street running from that gate to the King
Street gate of the Palace, it is thought that in the
early part of this year she exchanged her former rooms
for some rather nearer to the royal apartments. The
evidence is not quite conclusive, but on the other
hand there is a fairly good case for a change of abode.
The new lodgings (if they were new) were in the gate
house built across Whitehall after Holbein's design in
the reign of Henry VIII and not pulled down until
1759. This gatehouse was used by King Henry as a
study. During the Commonwealth it was inhabited
by Lambert, and now it was given up to a royal
mistress, so that it had a varied history.
For some time after this supposed change of abode
we hear very little of Lady Castlemaine. She appears
at the lottery organised by Sir Arthur Slingsby in the
Banqueting HaU (which was very close to the Holbein
Gate) ; for Pepys, who manages as usual to get in here
and place himself in the midst of aU that is worth

THE RIVALS 113
seeing, stands " just behind my Lady Castlemaine,
whom I do heartily adore." We do not hear what
luck the lady had at the lottery, which Evelyn, who
was also present, says " was thought to be contrived
very unhandsomely by the master of it, who was, in
truth, a meer shark."
There was a very good cause for the lady not
being much seen in public about this period. On
September 5th, 1664, there was born at White
hall Palace, Charlotte Fitzroy, second daughter of
Lady Castlemaine. So secretly did the birth take place
that Pepys's Diary shows no knowledge of the child's
existence at any date ; while Pepys's friend Pierce, the
doctor, surmises less than four weeks before the event
something entirely incorrect about the condition of
affairs, and again, on November nth, Pepys unsus
pectingly writes : " My wife tells me the sad news of
my Lady Castlemaine's being now become so decayed
that no one would know her ; at least, far from a
beauty, which I am sorry for."
Charles had, no doubt, the best of reasons for keeping
Charlotte's appearance in the world from common
knowledge as long as possible, for there was no chance
of attributing the child to the lady's husband when
he had been so long away from England. The King
does not seem to have made any attempt to disown the
fathership, in spite of the current scandal at Court
earUer in the year, and a very affectionate letter to
" my deare Charlotte " from " your kinde father,"
when she was of an age to appreciate a present of five
hundred guineas, remains in existence to-day.

ii4 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Only nine days after the birth of her child Lady
Castlemaine entertains in her lodgings at Whitehall
Madame de Cominges, the recently arrived wife of
the French Ambassador. Cominges himself, seemingly
without any suspicion of the lady's late experience,
comments on the magnificence of the affair and teUs
how the King " did the honours of the house in a
way befitting a host rather than a guest."
If it is curious that such an inveterate gossip and so
great an admirer of Barbara as Samuel Pepys should
not have heard of Charlotte Fitzroy's birth, it is still
more curious that he should also have failed to hear
about a very unpleasant mishap to the royal mistress a
month later. Perhaps it was because the diarist was
unusually occupied with his own amours at this period
that he had little time to glean from his general infor
mants the latest scandals in high society. It is from a
letter of the French Ambassador to Lionne that our
knowledge of the affair is derived. Writing on October
2nd, Cominges relates how two days previously Lady
Castlemaine, returning home after an evening spent
with the Duchess of York at St. James's Palace, and
accompanied only by one lady and a little page, was
met suddenly in the Park by three gentilshommes (so
at least they seemed to be from their clothes), wearing
masks, who addressed to her the strongest and harshest
reprimand imaginable, going so far as to remind her
that the mistress of Edward IV died on a dunghill,
scorned and abandoned by all the world. " You may
imagine," continues Cominges, " whether the time
seemed long to her. ... As soon as she was in her

THE RIVALS 115
room she fainted. The King was informed of it, and
running to her assistance ordered all the gates to be
closed and all persons found in the Park to be arrested.
Seven or eight people who happened to be there were
brought in, but not identified, and have spread the
story. It was desired to hush the matter up, but I
think that will be difficult." It was not so difficult, ap
parently, as Cominges thought.
This was not the first time, as we know, that Lady
Castlemaine had to endure the odious comparison of
herself with Jane Shore ; nor was it to be the last.
Doubtless the three masked gentlemen were people
about the Court, enemies of the mistress, and aware
of the recent birth which had been kept so carefully
concealed from the general public. If courtiers, they
would have chances of escape not possessed by other
people.

CHAPTER VI
POLITICS AND PLAGUE
HPHE outbreak of the war between England and
HoUand toward the end of 1664, not officially
declared but none the less real, is doubtless the reason
why we hear less about the gaieties at Court than
usual at this period. But it took more than foreign
troubles to dissipate the frivolous atmosphere of
Whitehall, so that there is no necessity to imagine a
slackening of the furious pace of pleasure there. On
Candlemas Day (February 2nd), 1665, we have a
glimpse of the Court at its amusements. On that day
a masque was got up to surprise the King. Evelyn was
a spectator, but gives no details. Pepys, deriving his
information from Lord Sandwich's niece, tells how
" six women (my Lady Castlemaine and Duchess of
Monmouth being two of them) and six men (the
Duke of Monmouth and Lord Arran and Monsieur
Blanfort being three of them) in vizards, but most
rich and antique dresses, did dance admirably and
most gloriously." The Gramont Memoirs contain
some entertaining but very ill-natured details about a
masquerade organised by Queen Catherine, which has
been identified with this Candlemas Day revel. There
are several difficulties in the way of the identification,
one of which is that Gramont describes a lady as
116

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 117
stiU Mademoiselle Hamilton when she had become
his own wife more than a year before and had presented
a son to him five months before the revel ! It is true
that he was a singularly forgetful man where his wife
was concerned, the tale being famous of his attempted
departure from England after his engagement to her.
Her brothers hastened after him to Dover and, catch
ing him, asked him : " Count, have you forgotten
nothing in London ? " — " Pardon me," replied Gra
mont, " I have forgotten to marry your sister. Let us
go back and finish that affair." So he returned, married
Elizabeth Hamilton, and only changed his character
so far as to become the most bare-faced liar in the
world, according to his compatriot, King Louis's
Ambassador at Whitehall.
To enliven the masquerade got up by the Queen
(whether it was that of February 1665 or not), Gra
mont makes MademoiseUe HamUton " invent two or
three little tricks for turning to ridicule the vain fools
of the Court, there being two pre-eminently such ;
one Lady Muskerry, wife of her cousin-german, and
the other a maid of honour to the Duchess [of York],
caUed Blague." Lady Muskerry, a rich heiress, but
no beauty, with one leg shorter than the other, received
a forged invitation from the Queen to come dressed
" in the Babylonian fashion," and arrived at the en
trance to Whitehall " with at least sixty ells of gauze
and silver tissue about her, not to mention a sort of
pyramid upon her head, adorned with a hundred
thousand baubles " — to the astonishment of all who
caught sight of her and to the rage of her husband, who

118 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
packed her off home before she could display her glory
in an assembly to which she had not really been in
vited. The trick played upon Miss Blague (sister of
the lady of whom Evelyn gives so noble and touching
a picture) was even more cruel, for it had its point in
an unrequited affection, and made her ridiculous in
the eyes of the man whom she desired to love her.
These and similar tales, of which there are many,
certainly give a vivid picture of the freedom allowed
at the Court of him whom history calls the " Merry
Monarch " ; in which freedom the ladies were not a
whit behind the gentlemen. The Countess of Sandwich
was not overstating the case when she talked to Pepys
of the " mad freaks " of the maids of honour, when
even the more innocent among them, like EUzabeth
Hamilton and Frances Jennings (heroine of the orange-
girl story told by both Pepys and Gramont), were
guilty of such extraordinary escapades. Lady Sand
wich observed that few men would venture upon these
damsels for wives, and repeated a prophecy of Lady
Castlemaine's, that her daughter (the four-year-old
Anne) would be the first maid at Court that would be
married. But the former Barbara Villiers should surely
not have been a harsh critic in matters of maidenly
behaviour !
Early in 1665 the husband whom she had so much
wronged appeared again in England, and was seen by
Pepys at St. James's, where no doubt he was paying
his respects to the Duke of York. He had spent a
considerable portion of his time abroad in the com
pany of Andrew Cornaro, Admiral of the Venetian

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 119
fleet carrying on war with Turkey in the Levant,
his experiences being embodied by him in a letter
which he wrote to the King from Venice and after
wards published. Returning home by way of France,
he was preceded by a report that he was about to make
friends with his lady again. But we hear from one
of Cominges' letters to Lionne that he was much dis
turbed when he found, on his arrival at Court, that
his wife was the mother of two more fine children
since he had left her. It is perhaps not surprising,
therefore, that a few days after his return he set out
again with the Duke of York for the fleet to fight the
Dutch, leaving his lady to go her own way. It was
probably on the day before the husband's departure
from London that Pepys caught one of his most curious
glimpses of Lady Castlemaine, in Hyde Park. On
Sunday, March 19th, he teUs how he rode with Mr.
Povy in his coach to the Park, " where many brave
ladies ; among others, Castlemaine lay impudently
upon her back in her coach asleep, with her mouth
open." It was the first day this year of the " tour "
or Ring, where the fashionable people took the air.
There was also to be seen on the same day Lady
Carnegy, Barbara's old friend Lady Anne Hamilton,
whose reputation was even worse than hers by now.
A fortnight later Lady Castlemaine is seen with the
King at the Duke's Theatre, witnessing Lord Orrery's
new play Mustapha. Their presence is to Pepys " all
the pleasure of the play " ; but he notices also, for
the first time in his Diary, " pretty witty NeU," who
is, of course, none other than the famous Nell Gwynn.

120 MY -LADY CASTLEMAINE
But Lady Castlemaine did not devote herself en
tirely to pleasure at this time. She had long taken
her share in the domestic politics of Charles II, and,
as we have seen, had fostered the rise of Henry
Bennet and Charles Berkeley in the counsels of the
King, to the discomfiture of " the old serious lords,"1
such as Clarendon and Southampton, whom she hated
for refusing to seek her favour. Since she had become
a Roman CathoUc, her apartments in Whitehall had
more than ever been the meeting-place of the faction
hostile to the Chancellor and Treasurer, and the resort
particularly of Bennet, now Earl of ArUngton, and
his co-religionists. Foreign affairs played their part
in creating a wider divergence between the rival
parties. The outbreak of the quarrel with HoUand,
very unwelcome to the Chancellor and his friends, was
popular with the Roman Catholic section of the Court ;
and the Duke of York, though he showed no signs yet
of any leaning toward Rome, was also a strong advocate
of the war.
There was, indeed, no distinct division on religious
grounds in this matter of a war with Holland.
At this period a bitterly anti-Dutch feeUng pre
vailed in England generaUy, due to the commercial
and colonial rivalry of the two leading naval Powers
of the world. On the other hand, it did not at aU suit
the policy of Louis XIV of France that one of these
two nations should crush the other and become supreme.
Louis was tied by treaty to the Dutch at present, and
1 Otherwise "those old dotards," as Charles's other counsellors
called them, according to Lord Sandwich.

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 121
at the same time was anxious to enter into closer
relations with England. He was, therefore, bent on
mediating, if possible, between the two countries, and
to this end made extraordinary diplomatic efforts,
which the friends of France at the English Court, in
cluding the adherents of the Queen-Mother Henrietta
Maria, seconded to the best of their ability. Among
the French party was Frances Stewart, whose
mother was attached to Henrietta Maria. Accord
ingly we find now the royal favourite and the
titular mistress of the King no unimportant figures in
the struggle for the direction of England's foreign
policy. Louis, seeing that Cominges alone was unable to
influence Charles in the direction he desired, sent
over to help him the extraordinary mission which is
known as la celebre Ambassade, including a prince of
the blood, the Due de Verneuil. On their arrival
the envoys found the chief obstacle in the way of
carrying out their instructions to prevent an official
declaration of war between the English and Dutch
was the alliance between Lady Castlemaine and the
Spanish Ambassador, the Count de Molina. Spain,
the great military rival of France in Europe, was
naturaUy concerned to prevent any attempt at closer
Anglo-French relations. The Vatican was stiU domin
ated by her, and, in spite of Charles's Portuguese
marriage, which seemed to commit him to hostility
against her, she had a strong hold on the sympathies
of the English Roman CathoUcs. Nor was she any
longer disliked by the English nation generally. Lady

122 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Castlemaine, for once in a way, was ranged on the
more popular side.
The letters sent to Paris by the representatives of
France this summer bring out the attitude of the
mistress about the political situation. The Ambas
sadors are soon compeUed to recognise the difficulty
of their task. They believe that the English King
wants peace, but he tells them that his people are en
raged against the Dutch and that he cannot recaU
his fleet. On June ist Verneuil and his associates write
reporting a bitter speech against the French made at
Lady Castlemaine's by Lauderdale, who ruled the
King as far as Scottish affairs were concerned and was
growing more powerful in English affairs also. His
words are quickly on every one's lips and are repeated
on the Exchange every morning. Was the King at
Lady Castlemaine's to hear Lauderdale's speech ? We
are not told, but a day later Pepys, going to Court on
a matter of business, is " led up to my Lady Castle
maine's lodgings, where the King and she and others
were at supper," so that we may presume His Majesty
was stiU constant at his suppers with the mistress.
On the day after this visit of Pepys to Lady Castle
maine's apartments was fought the great naval battle
in Southwold Bay, when the English fleet under the
Duke of York gained a handsome victory over Opdam
and the other Dutch admirals. The chief loss on
the EngUsh side was Charles Berkeley (or, as he had
now lately become, Lord Falmouth), who with Lord
Muskerry and another was killed on board the flagship,
so close to the Duke that he was splashed with their

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 123
blood and brains. The public rejoicings over the
fleet's success were enthusiastic, followed by demon
strations against the French Embassy, which refrained
from joining in the display of bonfires at all the street
doors. While this naval battle was taking place Queen
Catherine was at Tunbridge WeUs once more, drinking
the waters, and the Court ladies attended upon her in
their turns. " The ladies here," writes Henry Savile
from London to his sister-in-law, " begin to go down
to pay their duty to Her Majesty. My Lady Denham
goes this night, my Lady Castlemaine and Lady Fal
mouth go next week." Savile does not anticipate
much enjoyment for them, since he declares : " That
Tunbridge is the most miserable place in the world
is very certain, and that the ladys do not look with
very great advantage at three of the clock in the
morning is as true ! " Late hours were evidently the
rule, whatever the ladies found to amuse them.
After her return from the Wells, Lady Castlemaine
is next heard of at a great feast given by the Spanish
Ambassador to her and his other friends. The pro-
Spanish party was naturaUy jubilant at the result of
Southwold Bay, and Molina was on the best of terms
with all the world. In honour of the occasion, his
hospitality was so lavish that even his servants, enter
taining the coachmen and lacqueys of his visitors,
made them all drunk, and when my Lady and the
other guests were ready to depart they found it im
possible to trust themselves to be driven by men in
such a state. Molina offered the services of his own

124 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
staff, whereon the English servants in their indigna
tion rose up and fought them — which a French Em
bassy official finds " the greatest and pleasantest dis
order possible."
But the French refuse to lose heart. MademoiseUe
Stewart, " incomparably more beautiful " than Lady
Castlemaine, according to one of them, is very friendly
to them, and they think they see hopeful signs of a
decrease of the Castlemaine influence. On July 16th
Courtin, one of the Ambassadors, reports with satis
faction to Lionne that the mistress " has refused to
sleep at Hampton Court, saying that her apartment
is not yet ready." Meanwhile, " His Britannic
Majesty supped yesterday with MUe. Stewart, at Lord
Arlington's " ; Lady Castlemaine " runs great risks,
and if her anger lasts may weU lose the finest rose on
her hat."
The move to Hampton Court, to which Courtin
refers, was occasioned by fear of the terrible visitor
which had reached London in the summer of 1665.
During the week ending June 27th the deaths from
plague in town had numbered 267. The Court pre
pared to fly, and on the 29th Pepys saw at Whitehall
the waggons and people ready to go. What Lady
Castlemaine did when she refused to sleep at Hampton
Court we do not know. It is hardly likely that she
continued at WhitehaU when all around the infection
was spreading. Possibly she went for a time to Rich
mond Palace, as we have seen her go before ; if so,
probably her retirement thither was as brief as on
the previous occasions.

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 125
But soon the plague began to extend its ravages ;
the London death-rate increased enormously, and a
soldier on duty at Hampton Court itself was seized.
So before the end of July a move further out of the
danger-zone was decided on, and on the 27th the
Court set out for Salisbury. Pepys, a visitor to
Hampton Court that day, watches the King and
Queen depart and finds it " pretty to see the young
pretty ladies dressed like men, in velvet coats, caps
with ribbands, and with laced bands, just like men."
No ladies' names are mentioned, but both Lady Castle
maine and Frances Stewart were among those who
accompanied Their Majesties and may have been
among the wearers of the man-like dress, with regard
to which an Oxford letter some two months later is of
interest. " One cannot possibly know a woman from
a man," writes Denis de Repas to Sir Robert Harley,
" unlesse one hath the eyes of a linx who can see
through a wall, for by the face and garbe they are like
men. They do not wear any hood, but only men's
perwick hats and coats."
The plague was not slow in foUowing the fugitives
to Salisbury, and in August there were deaths in the
street — " an unpleasant habit which begins to spread
here," writes Courtin — and closings of infected houses.
It seemed necessary to make another move. More
over, time doubtless hung rather heavily on King and
courtiers ahke at Salisbury, while there was the
assembly of Parliament to take place in October, the
appointed place for which was Oxford.
So on September 25th King Charles reached Oxford

126 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
and took up his residence as before in the lodgings
of the Dean of Christ Church. The Dukes of York
and Monmouth arrived the same day, the Queen the
next. Lady Castlemaine possibly traveUed with Her
Majesty in her capacity of Lady of the Bedchamber ;
but her two little sons came on the 25th and were
lodged at the house of the Wood family, opposite
Merton College Gate, as Antony Wood records.1
The Queen and her ladies were assigned rooms in
Merton, the Queen having those in the Warden's
House which Henrietta Maria had occupied in the
troublous times of the Civil War, and Lady Castle
maine, Frances Stewart, and others having rooms be
longing to various FeUows and Postmasters of Merton,
who were turned out of coUege to make room for
them. The rest of the Court and the Diplomatic
Body were distributed about the University, the Duke
and Duchess of York being at Christ Church, the Duke
and Duchess of Monmouth at Corpus, the French
Ambassadors at Magdalen, the Spanish at New College,
and so on.
The task of housing all these people at Oxford was
a difficult one, and it is evident that the ChanceUor
of the University by no means relished it. He tells,
in the Continuation of his life, how there was some
unpleasantness with the Lord High Treasurer South
ampton about it. Attempts had recently been made
to sow the seeds of ill-will between them, and South-
1 "Sept. 25, m., the lady of Castlemaine's two children began to
lay at our house." Wood apparently did not feel honoured by his
home sheltering the future Dukes of Southampton and Grafton.

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 127
ampton was feeling some jealousy of his old friend.
" Which," says Clarendon, " was improved by the
ladies, who did not like their lodging, and thought it
proceeded from want of friendship in him [the
Chancellor], who had the power over the University,
and might have assigned what lodgings he pleased to
the Treasurer ; and he had assigned this, as the best
house in the town for so great a family."
As for the University, it certainly seems to have
felt but little pleasure at the prolonged visit of the
Court in its midst. The presence of more ladies than
scholars in chapel, which the Merton College Register
notes, did not compensate for the turning out of their
rooms of fellows and undergraduates and the conse
quent upset of scholarly peace.1 Then there was the
dread, fortunately unrealised, of the great epidemic
reaching the town in the train of the Court. " It
was noe better," declares Wood, " than tempting God
to bring upon us the sad judgment of the plague."
However, Denis de Repas in the above quoted letter
quaintly remarks : " There is no othere plague here
but the infection of love."
Wood's opinion of the intruders themselves is the
reverse of flattering. He sums them up thus :
" The greater sort of the courtiers were high, proud,
insolent, and looked upon scolars noe more than pedants,
or pedagogicall persons ; the lower sort also made noe
more of them then the greater, not suffering them to
1 One Fellow of Merton sent Antony Wood sixty-nine folios to
look after for him until the King and Queen should have left Oxford.
He was no doubt wise.

128 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
see the King or Queen at dinner or supper or scarce
at cards or at masse, never regarding that they had
parted with their chambers and conveniences. . . . To
give a further character of the Court, they, though
they were neat and gay in their apparell, yet they were
very nasty and beastly. . . ."
Politeness forbids us continuing the quotation ; but
Woods finds the courtiers rude, rough, immoral, vain,
empty, and careless. He had certainly some justifica
tion for his censure, particularly as at Merton " the
Masters " had to complain of discourtesy shown to
them by a royal servant on the very day after the
Queen's arrival.
Nevertheless, the welcome given to the visitors was
very loyal. At Merton itself, when the Queen was
escorted to her lodgings by the King and the Duke of
York, the College authorities met them and one of
the Fellows recited sixteen lines of verse, of which two
asserted that :
" Our pious founder, knew he this daye's state,
Would quitt his mansion to congratulate."
Walter de Merton was happily beyond reach of
questions as to what he might think about the matter.
About Lady Castlemaine during this, her second
visit to Oxford, we hear but little before an oc
currence soon to be mentioned. Her state of health
now did not allow her to appear much in public. And,
unfortunately, one supposed reference to her pro
menading in the Lime Walk of Trinity CoUege with a
lute playing before her, and attending the chapel

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 129
there " like an angel but half -dressed," turns out to
be an error, the lady alluded to being reaUy Lady
Isabella Thynne, in the reign of Charles I.1
But if Lady Castlemaine was debarred from showing
herself much abroad, she had the satisfaction of seeing
her influence with the King prevailing still and his
foreign policy shaped according to her desire. At the
end of November, the French Ambassadors quitted
Oxford, leaving with the President of Magdalen a
piece of plate worth four pounds as a memorial of
their visit. La celebre Ambassade had failed. England
was still in a fighting mood, as was shown by the early
speeches of the Parliament which began its sittings
in the schools at Oxford on October 9th ; and Louis,
unable to stop the war and pledged by treaty to aid
1 As a Trinity man I am sorry to spoil (if, indeed, I am the first to
do so, which I do not know) the pleasant legend connecting Lady
Castlemaine with my own college. But John Aubrey in his Lives
of Eminent Men, writing of Ralph Kettle, d.d., tells how a certain Lady
Isabella Thynne used to visit Trinity Lime Walk during the time when
Oxford was the Royalist head-quarters. " Our grove," he says, " was
the Daphne for the ladies and their gallants to walke in, and many
times my Lady Isabella Thynne would make her entreys with a
theorbo or lute played before her. I have heard her play on it in the
grove myselfe, which she did rarely. . . . One may say of her as
Tacitus said of Agrippina, Cuncta alia Mi adfuere praeter animum
honestum. She was most beautifull, most humble, charitable, &c, but
she could not subdue one thing." Aubrey adds that this lady and
" fine Mrs. Fenshawe, her great and intimate friend," were wont " to
come to our Chapell, mornings, halfe dressed like angells." The late
Mark Pattison, then Rector of Lincoln, writing in Macmillan's Magazine
for July 1875, and trusting to his memory, made Lady Castlemaine the
heroine of the tale. And Steinman (Memoir of Barbara, Duchess
of Cleveland, Second Addenda, 1878, p. 4), by accepting the unidentified
reference, perpetuated the error.

130 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
the Dutch, had to renounce for the present his scheme
for closer union with England. There was nothing
for it but an open rupture between England and
France. The Castlemaine-Molina alliance had won
the day, and " Mrs. Stewart " had proved a broken
reed, as far as her political influence over the King
was concerned. No doubt the representatives of
France had over-estimated her desire to take a hand
in the game. Clarendon, who has a high opinion of
Frances Stewart, states that she " never seemed dis
posed to interpose in the least degree in business " ;
" which kind of nature and temper," he adds, " the
more inflamed the King's affection, who did not in his
nature love a busy woman, and had an aversion from
speaking with any woman, or hearing them speak, of
any business but to that purpose he thought them
aU made for, however they broke in afterwards upon
him to aU other purposes."
About a month after the discomfiture of the French
Ambassadors, in which she had played her part, Lady
Castlemaine was delivered of her third son and fifth
child. On December 28th, 1665, was born George,
one day to be Duke of Northumberland. Antony
Wood made the official entry in the register of the
parish of St. John Baptist, Oxford, which reads as
follows :
" 1665, Dec. 28, George Palmer, sonne of Roger,
earl of Castlemaine, was born in Merton CoUege ; and
was baptized there the first of January foUowing. His
mother's name was Barbara, daughter of  Villiers

POLITICS AND PLAGUE 131
since dutchesse of Cleveland. Filius naturalis regis
Caroli II."
In his private copy of the register he speaks of
" George Palmer, base son of King Charles II." And
there was never any doubt as to the fatherhood of the
child, in the King's mind or that of any one else.
That Oxford was scandalised may be gathered from
Wood's mention of a " Ubell on the countess of
Castlemayne's dore in Merton College " one day in
January. He gives the libel, which was in both Latin
and English, but the sample of scholastic scorn cannot
be quoted here. It must suffice to say that it suggested
that, but for the King being the father, the mother
would have been ducked — which seems to have been
the contemporary Oxford method of dealing with
undesirable ladies. A thousand pounds was offered
as a reward for the discovery of the libel's author,
without effect. But Lady Castlemaine was not
ashamed, and we shaU see her one day claiming
proudly that this son of hers was born among the
scholars !

CHAPTER VII
THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY
' I ""HE plague in London having decreased very
markedly, and war with France having been
declared, Charles II left Oxford on January 27th, 1666,
eighteen days after Pierce, lately come from there,
had told Pepys that " all the town, and every boy
in the streete, openly cries, ' The King cannot go away
till my Lady Castlemaine be ready to come along with
him.' " Whether the lady left with him we do not
hear. The Queen was not able to move until February
1 6th, having been so unfortunate as to disappoint the
hopes of the King which had been fulfiUed in the
case of Lady Castlemaine. This accident is said to
have had a lasting effect on her husband's mind.
Clarendon says that " some of the women who had
more credit with the King " assured him that there
had never really been any foundation for the Queen's
expectation,1 of which he suffered himself to be con
vinced ; and that " from that time he took little
pleasure in her conversation, and more indulged
to himself aU the liberties in the conversation of
those who used their skill to supply him with divertise-
ments which might drive all that was serious out of
1 As a matter of fact, hopes were aroused again in 1 668 and 1 669,
but were again disappointed.

From a photograph by IV. A. Mansell &° Co., of ter a painting by
Mrs. Beale in the National Portrait Gallery
CHARLES THE SECOND

4 %.

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 133
his thoughts." During his abode at Oxford, though
he had been regular in his morning calls upon both
Lady Castlemaine and Frances Stewart, he had been
observed to live with more constraint and caution.
Now he relaxed the effort to be an attentive husband,
and, but for Clarendon's own continued presence at
the head of affairs, it seems possible that in the bitterness
of his disappointment Charles might have given his
consideration at once to the scheme that was actually de
bated after the ChanceUor's fall a year and a half later.
The mistress was naturally triumphant over the
turn which affairs had taken, and abused her influence
over the King to the utmost, especially in the matter
of replenishing her purse. " Her principal business,"
says Clarendon, " was to get an estate for herself and
her children, which she thought the King at least
as much concerned to provide as she to solicit ;
which however she would not be wanting in, and
so procured round sums of money out of the privy
purse (where she had placed Mr. May) and other
assignations in other names, and so the less taken
notice of, though in great proportions : all which
yet amounted to little more than to pay her debts,
which she in a few years contracted to an unimagin
able greatness, and to defray her constant expenses,
which were very excessive in coaches and horses,
clothes and jewels, without anything of generosity,
or gratifying any of her family, or so much as paying
any of her father's debts,1 whereof some were very
1 She did, however, erect to his memory the marble tomb in Christ
Church Cathedral.

134 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
clamorous." He goes on to say that she procured
for herself grants of land in Ireland, because these
did not have to come before the Chancellor and
Treasurer of England, who were thus powerless to
obstruct the grants and did not even know about
them. We shall hear more later about these grants in
Ireland, and considerably more about the money
lavished by the King upon her whom Burnet so
justifiably caUs " enormously vicious and ravenous."
For the present, it may be noticed that she had hardly
returned to London from Oxford when she bought
from Edward Bakewell or Backwell, alderman, banker,
and goldsmith, two diamond rings, valued at X1100
and ^900 respectively, but did not pay for them.
The Domestic State Papers of Charles II show that
this same year another jeweller, John Leroy, was
petitioning the King for " payment of £lS7-> balance
of ^850 due for a ring delifered to the Countess of
Castlemaine, which she said was for His Majesty."
Whether the other rings were for her own adornment
or to give away does not appear. But she was very
fond of personal jewelry.
The conduct of the war simultaneously against
Holland and France — it is true that the French
demonstrations against England were very languid —
had little effect on the amusements of the Court.
Dining with Pierce and his family on Easter Day,
Pepys hears all about " the amours and the mad
doings that are there." Even after the murderous
sea-fight with the Dutch, the Battle of the Downs,

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 135
on the opening days of June, domestic affairs seem
to occupy most attention at WhitehaU. On June 10th
Pepys has another of his Sunday gossips with Pierce,
and learns the details of a falling out between the
King and Lady Castlemaine, of which we should
otherwise have heard nothing. The Queen, says
Pierce, " in ordinary talke before the ladies in her
drawing-room, did say to my Lady Castlemaine
that she feared the King did take cold by staying
abroad so late at her house. She answered before
them aU, that he did not stay so late abroad with
her, for he went betimes thence (though he did not
before one, two, or three in the morning), but must
stay somewhere else. The King then coming in
and overhearing did whisper in the eare aside, and
told her she was a bold impertinent woman, and bid
her begone out of the Court, and not come again
till he sent for her ; which she did presently, and went
to a lodging in the Pell Mell, and kept there two or
three days, and then sent to the King to know whether
she might send for her things away out of her house.
The King sent to her, she must first come and view
them ; and so she came, and the King went to her,
and all friends again."
While her anger lasted, however, Lady Castlemaine
went so far as to threaten " to be even with the King
and print his letters to her." Charles could scarcely
afford to anticipate the terse answer of the Duke of
WeUington to a similar threat and tell the lady to
" publish and be damned," for Lady Castlemaine
would probably have taken him at his word. So he

136 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
was doubtless wise, if not dignified, in the course
which he adopted.
A very odd petition among the Domestic State
Papers of 1666 shows how much the conduct
of the King with his mistress aroused public concern
at this time. The document is three pages long, and
concludes by stating that the petitioner " is but a
woman and can only pray for His Majesty." The
most interesting statement made in it is that " people
say, ' Give the King the Countess of Castlemaine,
and he cares not what the nation suffers.' " With
what feelings, we may wonder, did Charles read this,
if it ever came before his eyes ?
Some casual notices of Lady Castlemaine and
Frances Stewart in the following months do not
convey much information. But one entry in Pepys's
Diary is worth quotation on account of its unusuaUy
critical tone. He went to WhitehaU on the evening
of October 3rd. " And there among the ladies,
and saw my lady Castlemaine never looked so UI,
nor Mrs. Stewart neither, as in this plain, natural
dress. I was not pleased with either of them." " Plain,
natural dress," was seldom worn by the Caroline
ladies, and doubtless looked strange upon them.
On October 21st we hear from the same source
of a matter of more interest. Attached to the Bed
chamber of the Duke of York was a young man caUed
Harry KiUigrew — the same whom Henry Savile,
brother of the future Marquis of Halifax, addresses
in a letter as " Noble Henry, sweet namesake of mine,
happy-humoured KiUigrew, soul of mirth and all

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 137
delight ! " while Charles II, in a letter to his sister in
1668, calls him " a most notorious lyar." Like his
father, " Tom " KiUigrew, who held the curiously
named post of Master of the Revels to Charles II
and actually had a fool's dress in his wardrobe, Harry
aspired to aU the verbal licence of a recognised wit.1
On this occasion he ventured to comment, in language
more caustic than humorous, on Lady Castlemaine's
conduct in girlhood. The truth was not palatable
to the lady, who complained to the King. Charles
asked his brother to dismiss his gentleman, which
the Duke did. But James was offended that Lady
Castlemaine had not come to him first, instead of
going to the King ; and so, in spite of an effort by
the lady, calling in person, to conciliate the Duke,
" iU blood is made of it." KiUigrew was forgiven
after a time, for in 1669 he was Groom of the Bed
chamber to Charles himself. Nine years later he
offended another mistress in a drunken freak, caUing
at Nell Gwynn's early one morning to tell her,
ostensibly from the King, that her hated rival,
the Duchess of Portsmouth, had recovered from an
iUness that was expected to kill her. He was banished
again, but nevertheless succeeded his father as
Master of the Revels.
It was naturaUy annoying to the former Barbara
Villiers to be put in mind of her first period. The last
1 Thomas Killigrew's best effort was when he appeared before
Charles dressed and booted as if for a journey. Asked by the King
where he was going in such a hurry, he replied : " To Hell, to fetch
up Oliver Cromwell to look after the affairs of England, for his
successor never will ! "

138 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
reminders, except for the name which accompanied
it, of the second period were effaced this same year.
Lord Castlemaine had been in England at the be
ginning of 1666, for in May he received the King's
leave to go abroad again. He did not depart at once,
or else he paid another brief visit to England ; for
on December 12th Pepys hears from Sir H. Cholmly
how Lady Castlemaine and her husband are now
" parted for ever, upon good terms, never to trouble
one another more."
The Great Fire which made this year so memorable
for London, as it was prevented from reaching
Whitehall, did not affect Lady Castlemaine personally ;
save in so far as it gave an impetus to the bitter and
unjust anti-Papist agitation which involved her later,
and (we may perhaps add) because it induced John
Leroy, jeweller, to send in a more pressing request
for the balance of the money due to him on the ring
purchased for His Majesty. But she doubtless
watched the progress of the conflagration, while
Charles, to his credit — unlike the legendary fiddling
Nero — took an active part in the devising of schemes
to fight the fire, and, as Evelyn relates, with the Duke
of York " even laboured in person and was present
to command, order, reward, and encourage workmen,
by which he showed his affection to his people and
gained theirs." The same loyal observer, it must be
noticed, speaking of the general fast ordered through
out the nation on October 10th, says that the " dismal
judgments " of fire, plague, and war were highly
deserved for " our prodigious ingratitude, burning

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 139
lusts, dissolute Court, profane and abominable
lives." It was not long before the dissolute Court which
Evelyn laments resumed its gaiety and licence after
the temporary quiet caused by the Fire. Evelyn's
indignation against the Duke of York for the way
in which he behaved with Lady Denham at Court
toward the end of September is recorded by his
friend Pepys ; and the graver of the two diarists
himself has some scathing remarks on the theatre
when, against his conscience at such a time, he attends
a performance of Lord Broghill's Mustapha at White
hall. He sees the theatres " abused to an atheisticaU
liberty " and " fowle and undecent women now
(and never tiU now) permitted to appeare and act,
who inflaming severaU young noblemen and gallants,
became their misses, and to some their wives." He
does not foresee, however, how much worse things
are to become, and how the " misses " are soon to
threaten the position of the very mistress en titre, the
Countess of Castlemaine, and defeat her by virtue of
being yet more brazen than she.
Some more innocent revels at Court this autumn are
described by Pepys on the occasion of the Queen's
birthday, November 15th. The scene is so character
istic and interesting that no apology is needed for
transcribing it :
" I also to the ball, and with much ado got up to
the loft, where with much trouble I could see very
weU. Anon the house grew full, and the candles
light, and the King and Queen and all the ladies

140 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
set : and it was, indeed, a glorious sight to see Mrs.
Stewart in black and white lace, and her head and
shoulders dressed with dyamonds, and the like a
great many great ladies more, only the Queen none ;
and the King in his rich vest of some rich silke and
silver trimmings, as the Duke of York and all the
dancers were, some of cloth of silver, and others of
other sorts, exceeding rich. Presently after the King
was come in, he took the Queene, and about fourteen
more couple there was, and begun the Bransles. . . .
After the Bransles, then to a Corant, and now and
then a French dance ; but that so rare that the
Corants grew tiresome, that I wished it done. Only
Mrs. Stewart danced mighty finely, and many French
dances, specially one the King called the New Dance,
which was very pretty ; but upon the whole matter,
the business of the dancing of itself was not extra
ordinary pleasing. But the clothes and sight of the
persons was indeed very pleasing, and worth my
coming, being never likely to see more gallantry
while I live, if I should come twenty times. . . . My
Lady Castlemayne, without whom all is nothing,
being there, very rich, though not dancing."
There had been rumours of the lady's indisposition
for some weeks before this, so that her not taking
an active part in the ball seems to have occasioned no
surprise. It is curious, however, that in a letter to
Harley a month later, Denis de Repas should say :
" Lady Castlemaine lives as retired as a nun. She has
not been seen at baU or play since the fire." Although
the eye-witness Pepys must, of course, be correct,
doubtless Lady Castlemaine may have lived in unusual

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 141
retirement at this period. Still her hold over the
King and her extortions from him continued un
diminished, of which a signal proof was given
before the end of this year. According to what Sir
H. Cholmly told Pepys on December 16th, Charles
had lately paid about .£30,000 to clear her debts.
On the foUowing Sunday the diarist himself went to
Whitehall, and " saw my dear Lady Castlemaine,
who continues admirable, methinks, and I do not
hear but that the King is the same to her stiU as
ever." But, as usual, at the end of the year Pepys
grows moral and shakes his head over the " sad,
vicious, negligent Court."
If 1666 closed with no alteration in the situation
of affairs in Charles's heart, in the following spring
the Court was suddenly struck as though a thunder
bolt had fallen in its midst. Frances Stewart at the
end of March eloped with her cousin Charles, Duke
of Richmond and Lennox, kinsman to his namesake
the King as weU as to herself. The Duke had lost
his second wife at the beginning of the year, and a
fortnight after she was buried proposed for the hand
of Frances. On March 19th they were betrothed,
report said, and the next thing to be heard was that
the maid of honour had been fetched by a ruse to
the Bear Tavern by Southwark Bridge, got into a
coach with her cousin, and fled with him to Kent
without the King's leave.
Gramont, " the most bare-faced Uar in the
world," has a long story of the King's discovery
of an intrigue between Frances and the Duke of

142 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Richmond, led to it by Lady Castlemaine and the
infamous William Chiffinch, keeper of Charles's
backstairs, and dispenser of his most secret funds ;
with circumstantial details of the resulting quarrel
between the King and the maid. But the un
supported word of Gramont here is probably
about as valuable as it is anywhere else. It is better
to rely on what Burnet says about Charles's consent
to the marriage, " pretending to take care of her,
that he would have good settlements made for her,"
as " he hoped by that means to have broken the
matter decently, for he knew the Duke of Richmond's
affairs were in disorder." This at least is reconcUable
with what Pepys hears from Sir WiUiam Penn and
Evelyn, the latter of whom learns " from a Lord
that she told it to but yesterday, with her own mouth,
and a sober man, that when the Duke of Richmond
did make love to her, she did ask the King, and he
did the like also ; and that the King did not deny it."
That Charles was nevertheless vexed at the sudden
elopement is quite possible. He was trying to make
the best of things and to take up a generous attitude,
but the runaway marriage snatched the matter out
of his hands, and he took what was a long time for
him to choke down his feeling of resentment. Part
of his anger against Clarendon was supposed to be
due to his belief that the Chancellor was implicated
in the Richmond match.
One person who could not fail to be pleased at
what had happened was the mistress. " Now the
Countess Castlemaine do carry all before her,"

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 143
Evelyn told Pepys. Her rejoicing was premature,
it is true ; but that was not to be manifested until
some time had passed. For the present matters
seemed to be going very well for her. The Richmond
match removed her great rival of her own sex from
her path. On May 16th death took away an object of
her detestation in the Lord Treasurer Southampton —
an event which Clarendon declares made a fatal
breach in his own fortune, " with a gap wide enough
to let in all the ruin which soon after was poured
upon him." It is certain that the disappearance of
one of the only two great ministers who refused to
pay court to her made easier the gratification of
the mistress's spite against the other, whom she hated
stiU more.
With " the prevalence of the lady," as Clarendon
caUs it, naturally increased by these two happenings
of early 1667, frivolity reigned at Court unchecked
by domestic sorrows or public calamities. On May
23rd the infant Duke of Kendal, younger son of the
Duke of York, died, while his elder brother, the
Duke of Cambridge, was so ill that he was expected
to go first, and, as a matter of fact, only survived him
by a month. In the second week of June came the
famous raid of the Dutch fleet up the Thames and
Medway, the capture of the Duke's flagship, The
Royal Charles, and the destruction of several other
big warships, followed by a great panic and cries of
England's betrayal by " the Papists and others about
the King." Charles, going out one day to feed his
ducks in St. James's Park and to stroll with Prince

144 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Rupert, returned to find the whole of WhitehaU
in an uproar and the Countess of Castlemaine bewaU-
ing, above aU others, that she, should be the first
torn to pieces. Yet " the Court is as mad as ever,"
says Sir H. Cholmly to Pepys ; " and that night the
Dutch burnt our ships the King did sup with my
Lady Castlemaine at the Duchess of Monmouth's,
and they were all mad in hunting a poor moth " —
a tale which makes a curious contrast with Pepys's
own experience on the backstairs at Whitehall on
June 13th, where he heard the lacqueys saying that
there was " hardly anybody in the Court but do look
as if he cried " !
Never, perhaps, was the inconsistent character
of Charles II more clearly demonstrated than at
this period of his life. A man so capable of rising
to an occasion as he had proved himself to be had
a glorious opportunity now of showing what lay
beneath the surface. But all he could do apparently
was to furnish his subjects with material for indignant
reflection. The moth-hunting story is bad enough.
What of this other, which Pepys got a few days after
from Povy ?
" He tells me, speaking of the horrid effeminacy
of the King, that the King hath taken ten times
more care and pains in making friends between my
Lady Castlemaine and Mrs. Stewart, when they have
fallen out, than ever he did to save his kingdom ;
nay, that upon any falling out between my Lady
Castlemaine's nurse and her woman, my Lady hath
often said she would make the King to make them

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 145
friends, and they would be friends and be quiet ;
which the King hath been fain to do : that the King
is, at this day, every night in Hyde Park with the
Duchesse of Monmouth, or with my Lady Castle-

Truly Burnet's diagnosis of the case of Charles
and Lady Castlemaine seems correct, that " his
passion for her, and her strange behaviour toward
him, did so disorder him that often he was not master
of himself nor capable of minding business." 1
The most noticeable evil arising from this condition
of the King was the enormous demands which he
made upon the revenues of his country to satisfy
his Privy Purse, which by the influence of his mistress
had been entrusted to the hands of Baptist May,
another gentleman of the same stamp as William
Chiffinch. May had the effrontery to tell the dis
contented Members of Parliament that £300 a
year was enough for any country gentleman — " which
makes them mad," Pepys hears, " and they do talk
of 6 or 800,000^ gone into the Privy Purse this
war, when in King James's time it arose to but £5000,
and in King Charles's but .£10,000 in a year." Pepys's
informant also reports that " a goldsmith in town told
him that, being with some plate with my Lady
Castlemaine lately, she directed her woman (the
great beauty), ' Wilson,' says she, ' make a note for
1 The loyal Sir John Reresby makes this defence of his master in
such matters : " If love prevailed with him more than any other
passion, he had this for excuse, besides that his complexion was of an
amorous sort, the women seemed to be the aggressors." Lady Castle
maine certainly was not lacking in aggressive spirit.

146 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
this, and for that, to the Privy Purse for money.' "
This plate is doubtless the same which the Domestic
State Papers show Charles II presenting to Lady
Castlemaine this summer, weighing in all 5600 ounces.
The King's lavish bounty to his mistress, on the
top of the .£30,000 with which he had recently paid
off her debts, did not prevent a most violent quarrel
between them now. It seems to have had a double
cause. In the first place, it was occasioned by Lady
Castlemaine's intervention on behalf of her kinsman,
the Duke of Buckingham. She had herself been on
very ill terms with Buckingham in the previous year,
and the Duke's candid comments on Court life
(of which he was one of the leaders, when not, as he
so frequently was, in disgrace) aroused Charles's
anger against him. He got himself twice committed
to the Tower in 1666 through the violence of his
behaviour. His wit, " unrestrained by any modesty
or religion," as Clarendon says, and his social talents
reconciled him to the King, but he was soon in
trouble again, leading the opposition in Parliament,
and giving reasons for suspicion of more serious
designs against the King. He was consequently
stripped of all his offices, and once more, after some
delay, committed to the Tower.
As a Villiers herself, Barbara apparently felt caUed
upon to come to his rescue, and Charles, though
supposed to be ready enough to pardon him, was
annoyed at this interference. In early July there
was a great falling out, Charles and the lady parting
" with very foul words." He called her, among

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 147
other things, " a jade that meddled with things she
had nothing to do with at all " ; while she said he
was a fool, for if not a fool he would not suffer his
business to be carried on by fellows that did not
understand them, and cause his best subjects, and
those best able to serve him, to be imprisoned. So
irritated was His Majesty that it was believed he
would never restore the Duke to office again. But
in a few days came the news of Buckingham's release
from the Tower without a trial, which Pepys declares
" one of the strangest instances of the fool's play
with which all publick things are done in this age."
His restoration to his various offices only waited for
the removal of Clarendon's opposition, which was not
long in coming.
The Duke of Buckingham's pardon was attributed
to Lady Castlemaine's influence, the public being
unable to believe that the King would remain at
variance with her for any length of time. But there
was more at the bottom of this quarrel. On July
27th Pepys learns that the King and the lady " are
quite broke off, and she is gone away, and is with
child, and swears the King shall own it, and she wiU
have it christened in the Chapel at Whitehall so,
and owned for the King's, or she will bring it into
Whitehall gaUery and dash the brains of it out before
the King's face." Soon after he has additional
details, how that when Charles said the child was not
his, " she made a slighting ' puh ' with her mouth
and went out of the house, and never come in again
tiU the King went to Sir Daniel Harvy's to pray her."

148 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
According to Dr. Pierce, Charles was forced to go
upon his knees, asking her forgiveness and promising
to offend no more, before she would make it up with
him again, even to the extent of receiving his visits
at Harvey's house.
The King, it was said, was convinced that the
expected child, of which, by the way, we hear no
more, would belong to Henry Jermyn, nephew of
the Earl of St. Albans, and one of the villainous
heroes of the Gramont Memoirs, a complete courtier
and fearful rake, though anything but a handsome
man. Gramont represents Lady Castlemaine as
infatuated with Jermyn, and the scandal of Whitehall,
which had for some time connected her name with
his, supports Gramont to the full. " The King,"
comments Pepys, " is mad at her entertaining Jermyn,
and she is mad at Jermyn's going to marry away
from her " — he was reputed to be engaged to the
widowed Lady Falmouth, who, from her portrait
by Lely, had one of the most charming faces of her
time — " so they are aU mad ; and thus the kingdom
is governed."The outward appearance of tranquillity, however,
is restored. The lady stiU remains at Harvey's
house, where Charles visits her. But she does not
avoid WhitehaU, and is seen walking in the Privy
Garden on " Bab " May's arm, immediately after
the King. She gets her 5600 ounces of plate, she
is credited with having a maternal uncle of hers,
Dr. Glemham — " a drunken, swearing rascal, and a
scandal to the church " — made a Bishop, and generally

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 149
" hectors the King to whatever she will." The
courtiers laugh at Charles's very face about it. When
he rallies the Duke of York on being henpecked
by his wife, and compares him with Tom Otter,
Ben Jonson's type of such a husband, the elder
KiUigrew asks : " Sir, pray which is best for a
man, to be a Tom Otter to his wife or his mistress ? "
The King's answer is not recorded, but the subject
must have been a very sore one to this slave of an
imperious beauty who denied him even the right
of decision as to who were his own children.
At some date between the 9th and the 26th of
August the mistress returned to her apartments
over the Holbein Gate, thus ratifying her peace with
the King very soon after the signing of the Treaty
of Breda, which brought peace to England, France,
and HoUand, and was the last important event in
Clarendon's administration of English affairs. The
Chancellor had opposed the summoning of Parliament
before the Treaty of Breda was signed, and when
after the signature it was summoned and immediately
prorogued by the King, a violent outcry at once
arose, not against Charles, but against the Minister
who was accused of having advised this sudden
prorogation. The opportunity had come for all
Clarendon's enemies to band together to destroy
his power for ever, and they were quick to seize
upon it.
Lady Castlemaine, fresh from her own personal
triumph over Charles, figured as one of the chief
actors in a very celebrated scene at Whitehall on

150 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
August 26th, 1667. At about ten o'clock on the
morning of that day the old Chancellor came to
WhitehaU for a conference with the King, who had
decided to get rid of him, and had indeed already
sent the Duke of York to request him to deliver up
the Great Seal. This the Chancellor would not do
until he had seen his master, and accordingly an
interview was arranged, no one else being present
but the Duke. Charles explained his reason for
requiring the Chancellor's retirement from office,
which was that he was assured of Parliament's resolve
to impeach him as soon as they met again, and saw
no way of saving him except by dismissal. Clarendon
disputed the necessity or propriety of this, and in
the course of his argument, as he relates himself,
" found a seasonable opportunity to mention the
lady, with some reflections and cautions which he
might more advisedly have dechned." The result
was that " after two hours' discourse the King rose
without saying anything, but appeared not well
pleased with all that had been said." The Duke of
York (who was, of course, Clarendon's son-in-law,
and who, to his credit, made efforts both before and
after this interview to save him) discovered that it
was at the reference to the lady that his brother was
so angered.
The King having gone, there was nothing for
Clarendon to do but depart also. He made his way
homeward through the Privy Garden, in which
there were many watching to see him. He describes
very briefly what occurred. " When the ChanceUor

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 151
returned, the lady, the Lord Arlington, and Mr.
May looked together out of her open window with
great gaiety and triumph, which all people observed."
The invaluable Dr. Pierce supplements this account
in one of his gossips with Pepys. When the Chancellor
left, he says, Lady Castlemaine was in bed, though
it was about twelve o'clock, and she ran out in her
smock into her aviary, looking into Whitehall Garden.
Her woman — Wilson " the great beauty," we may
presume — brought her her nightgown, or what we
should now caU her dressing-gown. And then my
Lady " stood joying herself at the old man's going
away : and several of the gallants of Whitehall,
of which there were many staying to see the Chancellor
return, did talk to her in her bird-cage ; among others,
Blancford, teUing her she was the bird of paradise."
Two days after the interview Charles sent Sir
WiUiam Morrice, Secretary of State, to receive the
Seal from the Chancellor's hands. Morrice brought
it back to the King, whereon Baptist May came in
" and fell on his knees and kissed His Majesty's
hand, telling him that he was now King, which he
had never been before." Confirmed by his favourite
advisers that he was acting rightly, Charles refused
to relent, and insisted on his old and faithful friend's
withdrawal from England. The ex-Chancellor left on
December 3rd, never to return.
Clarendon asserts that he " could not comprehend
or imagine from what fountain, except the power
of the great lady with the conjunction of his known
enemies, . . . that fierceness of the King's displeasure

152 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
could arise." His view was shared by most other
people, for example by Dr. Pierce, who told Pepys
how " this business of my Lord Chancellor's was
certainly designed in my Lady Castlemaine's cham
ber." Nor, indeed, could the ChanceUor complain
that he had been without warning from the mistress
of his impending fate. Shortly before his faU he had
stopped a grant from the King of a place worth
^2000 a year (nominally to Viscount Grandison, the
lady's uncle, but really for the use of her children),
observing scornfully that this woman would soon
sell everything. Lady Castlemaine at once sent him
a message that " she had disposed of this place and
did not doubt, in a little time, to dispose of his."
" The lady," against whom Clarendon had stood
out so steadfastly from the first, had taken six years
to accomplish her revenge ; but that revenge was
complete when it was attained. She did not, it is
true, have the pleasure of seeing his head upon a
stake, keeping company with those of the regicides
on Westminster Hall, as she is said, in the presence
of the Queen, to have expressed a wish to see it.
But at least he was gone an exile from his country
at the age of fifty-eight, after having borne the heat
of the day with the ungrateful Charles before 1660,
and guided his affairs since the Restoration. The
" old dotard " could thwart her no more.
Nor had she to pay any price for her vengeance.
There was no pubhc demonstration on behalf of
the victim. Pepys, going to Bartholomew Fair on
August 30th, finds the street full of people waiting

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 153
to see Lady Castlemaine come out from a puppet-
show. " I confess I did wonder at her courage
to come abroad," he says, " thinking the people
would abuse her ; but they, silly people ! do not
know her work she makes, and therefore suffered
her with great respect to take coach, and she away,
without any trouble at all." She had, indeed, little
reason to fear unpopularity over the latest exhibition
of her power. Clarendon, at first at least, was almost
without friends in the country, having to bear the
odium of all the acts during his holding of the Great
Seal, whether he had approved them or not. He
brought this on himself, it cannot be denied. " Old
Clarendon had as much power as ever Premier Minister
had," says a letter written some time after his faU.
His manner created this impression. He appeared
unwiUing to let any one else speak at the Council-
table — not even the King, according to Charles
himself. He was intolerant of opposition, convinced
of his own correctness of judgment, scornful of
intriguers, and an honest man, who had bought
himself no friends. There were no mourners, there
fore, at the funeral of his career.
With those who succeeded to the power which
the great ChanceUor had kept in his hands for seven
years Lady Castlemaine, like her friend Bab May
and the rest of " that wicked crew," as Pepys calls
them, was on easy terms. The Duke of Buckingham
in particular, after Clarendon's removal not merely
readmitted to the Privy Council, but the greatest
man in it, was more friendly disposed to his cousin

154 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
now than at any time before or after. A common
feeling of hatred for the Chancellor had united them,
as it had many other not naturally harmonious
persons. The sentiment was at least strong enough
to keep them together until all fear of a restoration
of the old regime was past.
Yet, in spite of the favourable appearance of affairs
after the disappearance of her great enemy, all was
not well with Lady Castlemaine's position at Court.
At the very beginning of September 1667 rumours
were afloat to the effect that she was " coming to
a composition " with the King, to take a pension
and retire to France. Pepys hears about it from
four different sources in ten days, though one of his
informants is incredulous about the likelihood of
the wished-for event. Lord Brounker says that her
demands are mighty high, and Sir WiUiam Batten
speaks of a pension of £40°° a year. Povy, who does
not think the composition will be successful, never
theless believes that " the King is as weary of her
as is possible, but he is so weak in his passion that he
dare not do it."
There can be no doubt that the tales repeated
by these courtiers were not far from the truth. The
King was eager to placate Parliament after it had been
offended so grievously by his sudden prorogation of
it. One of his readiest ways of pleasing both Houses
would be to rid his Court of some of the women
in it, especiaUy Castlemaine, before the reassembly in
October. Nor can Povy's estimate of his feelings
toward his mistress be far wrong. She had no longer

THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY 155
the same sensual power over him as formerly. Possibly
his passion for her had ceased entirely this year. The
habit of her ascendancy over him remained and was
destined to remain almost for another ten years,
to the great cost of his pocket and the nation's.
But the yoke gaUed, and the taunts of the courtiers
in this singularly free-speaking Court were constantly
touching him on the raw. In his efforts to break away
from his bondage he will soon be seen widening the
area of his attentions, and lending to the stage a
patronage which was more royal than reputable.
It is possible that some attempt was actually made to
induce Lady Castlemaine to withdraw herself from
WhitehaU, at least while Parliament began its sittings.
It is known from the Savile Correspondence that on
September 16th she went down on a visit to Althorpe,
the family seat of the Earls of Sunderland. Robert,
the second Earl, and his wife Anne (Digby) were both
born intriguers, and made up to Lady Castlemaine
now as later they did to the Duchess of Portsmouth.
The visit to Althorpe was quite short, but it is not
until nearly the end of the year 1667 that we hear
of the mistress at Court again. On Christmas Eve
Pepys is led by his happily insatiable curiosity to
the Queen's chapel, where he " got in up almost
to the rail, and with a great deal of patience staid
from nine at night to two in the morning, in a very
great crowd ; and there expected, but found nothing
extraordinary, there being nothing but a high mass."
Pepys's comments are amusing, as usual. The music
he found very good indeed, but the service very

156 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
frivolous — " there can be no zeal go along with it " —
though all things very rich and beautiful. Finally,
" all being done, and I sorry for my coming, missing
of what I expected ; which was, to have had a child
born and dressed there, and a great deal to do :
but we broke up, and nothing like it done : and
there I left people receiving the Sacrament : and the
Queen gone and ladies ; only my Lady Castlemaine,
who looked pretty in her night-clothes, and so took
my coach and away through Covent Garden, to set
down two gentlemen and a lady, who come thither
to see also and did make mighty mirth in their talk
of the folly of this religion."
A dozen years later Pepys was in serious trouble
for his supposed Papist sympathies ! But his accusers
had not the privilege of reading his Diary.

From a photograph by Emery Walker, after a copy of a picture by
Sir Peter Lely in the National Portrait Gallery

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

CHAPTER VIII
THE DECLINING MISTRESS
A PERIOD of great disorder, as Burnet calls it,
was now opening for Lady Castlemaine. She was
stUl at WhitehaU, but her hold over the King, to whom
her hectoring was so wearisome, was no longer the
same in nature as it had been formerly. Frances
Stewart was in London again, staying at Somerset
House with her husband, and the King had already
at the end of 1667 made overtures to her to return to
Court. A disfiguring attack of smaUpox in the foUow
ing spring failed to make the Duchess less beautiful in
his eyes ; indeed, caused him, in his own words, to
" pardon all that is past." The Richmonds were for
given — seemingly against the Duke's own wish, and with
some considerable reluctance on the part of the lady —
and in July Frances was made a Lady of the Bed
chamber to the Queen, who was fond of her and had
earlier interceded on her behalf. In token of his
affection for the wife Charles found occasion to send
the husband on missions, first to Scotland and then
to Denmark, on the latter of which he died. Frances
was left a widow at the end of 1672, and never married
again. Her reputation suffered considerably after her
return to Court, and apparently with justification,
157

158 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
though in such an age of scandal it is difficult to know
how much to believe. At least, however, she was as
modest in her requisitions from the Royal purse as
Lady Castlemaine was exorbitant, and when she died,
at the age of fifty-four, had been so far rehabUitated
in character as to figure at the coronation of Queen
Anne. But it was not so much an old flame of the King's
that caused Lady Castlemaine annoyance as some new
flames, discovered in quite a different class of society
from that of the Court. According to Burnet, it was
the Duke of Buckingham who directed his master's
attention to the beauties of the stage, in order to
punish his cousin for opposing his scheme of persuad
ing Charles to divorce his childless wife and marry
again. That there was actually talk of putting away
Catherine of Braganza, after the fall of Clarendon,
her best friend, there is evidence. She was to retire
to a nunnery for the remainder of her life, a divorce
was to be procured, with the help of a complaisant
Archbishop of Canterbury — the enemies of Gilbert
Sheldon declared him ready to oblige the King — and
a new wife was to be found. Whether Charles could
have ever brought himself to take these steps is very
doubtful, for he had a curious kind of regard for
the wife he so gaily and grossly wronged ; but at least
he allowed himself to consider the scheme. Lady
Castlemaine, however, for once became a warm
partisan of the Queen and, when she discovered who
was the arch-plotter, quarreUed with Buckingham,
never to be reconcUed again. An unofficial rival was

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 159
bad enough, but a new Queen — and this time probably
an Englishwoman — threatened a death-blow to her
power. Therefore, as the story goes, Buckingham deter
mined to undermine the influence which he could not
sweep away. He made the first advance with the
introduction of Mary Davis, once a milkmaid, now
an actress. Reputed a daughter of one of the Howards,
Earls of Berkshire, near whose Wiltshire house she was
borne by a blacksmith's wife, she springs into noto
riety in January 1668. Previously she is only " little
Mis. Davis " of the Duke's Playhouse, whom Pepys
describes to us as dancing a jig in boy's clothes and
infinitely outshining as a dancer NeU Gwynn of the
King's House. But it was not her dancing as much
as her singing which charmed Charles's heart. Tra
ditionally it was her rendering of a ballad, " My lodg
ing it is on the cold ground," which raised her to a
higher sphere. On January 13th there was an amateur
performance of The Indian Emperor at Court, in which
the Duke and Duchess of Monmouth and others took
part. The players of the Duke's House were present,
having no doubt coached the amateurs for the affair.
Mrs. Pierce, who sat near them, describes MoU Davis
to Pepys and his wife next day as " the most imper
tinent slut in the world ; and the more now the King
do show her countenance ; and is reckoned his mistress,
even to the scorne of the whole world ; the King
gazing on her, and my Lady Castlemaine being melan
choly and out of humour, all the play, not smiling
once." The King, it is said, has given her a ring worth

160 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
£700, which she shows to everybody, and has furnished
for her most richly a house in Suffolk Street ; " which
is a most infinite shame," observes Pepys. The Queen
was disgusted, and at a performance in the Whitehall
theatre one night she was observed to take her de
parture when Mrs. Davis came on to dance her jig.
For the mistress, however, it was more serious to be
out of request than for Her Majesty, so that we are
not surprised to hear from Pepys again that she is
" mighty melancholy and discontented " — especially
as scandal makes Moll Davis not the only new rival, but
has already begun to hint at Nell Gwynn and others.
But Lady Castlemaine did not content herself with
being " mighty melancholy and discontented " over
the King's bestowal of his affections in a new quarter.
She promptly paid him back in his own coin. She
was a weU-known patron of the drama, not only of
playwrights, but of performers also. She had been a
great friend even to Nell Gwynn for a time. Among
her other actress acquaintances was Rebecca Marshall,
of the King's House, through whom she obtained an
introduction to her fellow-actor, Charles Hart, great-
nephew of Shakespeare, and reputed to have been
the first lover of NeU Gwynn. One day Pepys is told
by Mrs. Knipp of the King's — of whom Mrs. Pepys
was very legitimately jealous — some " mighty news,
that my Lady Castlemaine is mightily in love with
Hart of their house, and he is much with her in
private, and she goes to him and do give him many
presents ; . . . . and by this means she is even with
the King's love to Mrs. Davis."

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 161
Such a story, interesting no doubt to other members
of the King's House company as weU as the lively
Mrs. Knipp, must soon have got around the town. It
is not surprising, therefore, that among the " libertine
libels " that Evelyn says were printed and thrown
about now was a bold mock-petition to Lady Castle
maine, who was horribly vexed at it, according to
Pepys. There had been near the end of March some
riots in the low quarters of London, in the course of
which a mob of holiday-making apprentices and others
pulled down a number or houses of ill-repute. Some
jester, who naturally took good precautions to keep his
identity secret, promptly came out with a petition
addressed to " The most Splendid, IUustrious, and
Eminent Lady of Pleasure, the Countess of Castle-
mayne." This was indeed, as Pepys remarks, " not very
witty, but devilish severe against her and the King."
It may be permissible, however, to quote a reason
ably decent part of the document, of which a copy is
preserved in the British Museum to-day. The victims
of the late riots are made to say :
..." We being moved by the imminent danger
now impending, and the great sense of our present
suffering, do implore your Honour to improve your
Interest, which (aU know) is great, That some speedy
Rehef may be afforded us, to prevent Our Utter Ruine
and Undoing. And that such a sure course may be
taken with the Ringleaders and Abetters of these evU-
disposed persons, that a stop may <be put unto them
before they come to Your Honours Pallace, and bring
contempt upon your worshipping of Venus, the great

162 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Goddess whom we aU adore. . . . And we shall en
deavour, as our bounden duty, the promoting of your
Great Name, and the preservation of your Honour,
Safety, and Interest, with the hazzard of our Lives,
Fortunes, and Honesty.
" And your Petitioners shall (as by custom bound)
Evermore Play &c.
" Signed by Us, Madam Cresswell and Damaris Page,
in the behalf of our Sisters and Fellow-Sufferers (in
this time of our Calamity) in Dog and Bitch Yard,
Lukeners Lane, Saffron Hill, Moor-fields, ChisweU-
street, Rosemary-Lane, Nightingale-Lane, Ratcliffe-
High-way, Well-close, Church-Lane, East-Smith-
field, &c, this present 25th day of March, 1668."
A month later there was a pretended reply published
called " The Gracious Answer of the most Illustrious
Lady of Pleasure the Countess of Castlem . . ." and
dated " Given at our Closset in King Street,
Westminster,1 die Veneris April 24 1668." As
an indication of the state of the public mind toward
the royal mistress at this period, some of this is of
interest. " Right Trusty and Well-beloved Madam Cresswell
and Damaris Page, with the rest of the suffering Sister
hood," it begins, "... We greet you well, in giving
you to understand our Noble Mind, by returning our
Thanks, which you are worthy of in rendring us
our Titles of Honour, which are but our Due. For on
1 Which might be taken to show that the lady was residing in her
husband's house again ; but " the Street " which ran through White
hall Palace and over which the Countess lived in her gatehouse was
practically a continuation of King Street.

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 163
Shrove-Tuesday last, Splendidly did we appear upon
the Theatre at W. H. being to amazement wonderfully
deck'd with Jewels and Diamonds, which the (abhorr'd
and to be undone) Subjects of the Kingdom have
payed for. We have been also Serene and Illustrious
ever since the Day that Mars was so instrumental to
restore our Goddess Venus to her Temple and Worship;
where, by special grant we quickly became a famous
Lady : And as a Reward of our Devotions soon created
Right Honourable, the Countess of Castlemain."
Lady Castlemaine is made to go on to explain that
she has become a convert to the Church of Rome —
rather a belated announcement ! — where worthy
fathers and confessors declare that certain things
" are not such heynous Crimes and crying Sins, but
rather they do mortifie the Flesh." She is made to
allude to the story of the Fire of 1666 being due to
" the Good Roman Catholicks " and to threaten :
" But for our Adversaries with the RebeUious Citizens,
Let them look to it when the French are ready (who
as yet drop in by smaU parties, and lie incognito with
the rest of the Catholicks) we shaU deal with them, as
we did with their Brethren in Ireland."
A certain skill in the drawing up of this precious
" Answer " and its language and allusions suggest that
it was composed by some one in Court circles. Courtiers
were fond of gratifying their malice in writing such
libels, though most often in verse. No one, however,
came forward later to father either the " Petition "
or the " Answer," so that the authorship of both must
remain a mystery.

1 64 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
It is curious that the " splendid appearance " of the
lady at the Theatre at W(hite) H(aU) on Shrove Tues
day is attested by Evelyn, though his language is less
complimentary than that of the libel. The entry in his
Diary for February 4th, 1668, is as follows : —
" I saw the tragedy of ' Horace ' (written by the
virtuous Mrs. Phillips) acted before their Majesties.
'Twixt each act a masq and antiq daunce. The
excessive gallantries of the ladies was infinite, those
especiaUy on that . . . Castlemaine esteem'd at
£40,000 and more, far outshining the Queene."
Of Lady Castlemaine's large expenditure on jewelry
we have heard before. She may have been particularly
reckless now, in the " disorder " to which Burnet sees
her driven by the loss of the King. She was also
gambling heavily at this time, risking £1000 and £1500
on a single cast, winning £15,000 one night and losing
£25,000 another. And then there were her presents to
Hart. We do not know their extent, but she was wont
to be very generous to her later favourites, and doubt
less was so to Hart now.
A handsome gift from the King this spring scarcely
lessened her debts ; or, more probably, added to her
expenses. He gave her a house, which she proceeded
to furnish herself. Coupled as it was with his renewed
attentions to Frances, Duchess of Richmond, and his
infatuation with Moll Davis, Charles's removal of his
titular mistress out of his own immediate neighbour
hood had something ominous about it. But the house
was undeniably a fine one and cost him, it appears,

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 165
£5000, which was the sum that passed the Privy
Seal for it. It was Berkshire House, standing in ex
tensive grounds (which included the present Green
Park) to the north-west of St. James's Park, on the
further side of the Palace. Formerly the London
residence of the first two Earls of Berkshire, it had
been recently occupied by the Lord Chancellor
Clarendon. It was strange that the next owner should
be the lady for whom the grant for £5000 could
scarcely have been even suggested in the imperious
old Chancellor's time.
With her departure from Whitehall Lady Castle
maine takes a less prominent place in the public eye ;
that is, if we can judge by the eye of Samuel Pepys.
He only records one vision of her between December
1667 and December 1668. This is on May 5th at
the Duke of York's Playhouse, where Shadwell's
The Impertinents is being performed. Pepys sits in
the balcony-box — " where we find my Lady Castle
maine and several great ladies " — close to " her
fine woman Wilson," with whom he gets into con
versation, no doubt to his great satisfaction. He
is, indeed, in as close touch with the admired one
as at any time in his Ufe. What he finds to remark
on, however, is rather unromantic : " One thing
of famiUarity I observed in my Lady Castlemaine :
she caUed to one of her women, another that sat
by this [Wilson], for a little patch off her face, and
put it into her mouth and wetted it, and so clapped
it upon her own by the side of her mouth, I suppose
she feeling a pimple rising there ! "

1 66 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Not until December 21st in the same year is the
lady seen again. On that day Pepys is once more at
the Duke's and witnesses a performance of Macbeth.
" The King and Court there ; and we sat just under
them and my Lady Castlemaine, and close to the
woman that comes into the pit, a kind of loose gossip
that pretends to be like her, and is so, something. . . .
The King and Duke minded me, and smiled upon me,
at the handsome woman near me : but it vexed me
to see Moll Davis, in the box over the King's and
my Lady Castlemaine's head, look down upon the
King, and he up to her ; and so did my Lady Castle
maine once, to see who it was ; but when she saw her,
she looked like fire ; which troubled me."
The theatre occupied a good deal of the Court's
attention at this period, apart from its connection with
the King's amours. In the middle of January there
was a great disturbance at Whitehall Palace, " even
to the sober engaging of great persons," according to
the Diary, " and making the King cheap and ridicu
lous." A certain actress, Mrs. Corey, playing the
part of Sempronia in Catiline's Conspiracy, took
it on herself to imitate Lady Harvey, wife of Lady
Castlemaine's host in the summer of 1667.1 This
Lady Harvey was by birth Anne Montagu, sister of
Ralph (of whom we shaU soon hear much) and cousin
of the two Edward Montagus, Lord Sandwich and
1 It would appear that there was some sort of connection between
the Harveys and the Castlemaines, for the Earl of Castlemaine in 1668
accompanied Sir Daniel Harvey on the mission to the Porte mentioned
below.

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 167
the Earl of Manchester. The Earl of Manchester
was Lord Chamberlain, and to him Anne naturally
appealed in her indignation. The Lord Chamberlain
promptly put the offending actress in prison ; where
upon Lady Castlemaine, for some reason at enmity
with her former hostess, insisted on the King ordering
Mrs. Corey's release and performance of the part of
Sempronia before his own eyes. Lady Harvey, in
her turn, provided people to hiss and to fling oranges
at the actress. The Court was divided in its sympathies,
taking the affair very seriously ; but unfortunately
we hear no more about it.
The mistress's successful intervention in this matter
shows her still able to rule the King, in spite of the
fact that politically the Duke of Buckingham was all
in all and that she and he were now mortal enemies.
In her hatred for her cousin she drew closer to the
chief opponents of the Buckingham interest at Court,
the Duke and Duchess of York, who, it should be
noted, were her closest neighbours in St. James's
Park. Buckingham, having failed in his scheme for
the divorce of Catherine of Braganza and a remarriage
of the King, was eager for Charles to legitimise the
Duke of Monmouth and make him the heir to the
throne, so cutting out the Duke of York from the
succession. Thus, though the mistress had con
tributed so much to the ruin of Clarendon, the
Duchess's own father, the Yorks were induced to
enter into an alliance with her as their best resource
at need.
How powerful an ally she was is abundantly plain.

1 68 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Povy sums the situation up admirably for Pepys on
January 16th, 1669 : " My Lady Castlemaine is now
in a higher command over the King than ever — not as a
mistress, for she scorns him, but as a tyrant to com
mand him." All in vain had Charles sent the lady to
Berkshire House. Her iron grip was on him still,
however much he might try to disguise the fact from
himself. For he did try. We read in a letter written
to Louis XIV by Colbert, his new Ambassador at
WhitehaU, on January 14th, that it is inadvisable to
lavish handsome gifts upon Madame Castlemaine * to
buy her support for France, since then " His Majesty
may think that, despite his assertions to the contrary,
we fancy that she rules him, and may take it iU." Tom
Otter was sensitive !
Pepys had the good luck to be eye-witness on one
occasion of the close relations of Lady Castlemaine
and the Yorks this spring. He and Sir Jeremiah
Smith went on March 4th to Deptford, where the
Duke and Duchess were on a visit to the Treasurer's
house. Here, after a dinner by invitation with the
Duchess's maids of honour (" which did me good to
have the honour to dine with and look on "), they go
upstairs and " find the Duke of York and Duchess,
1 We hear, however, of one handsome gift. On May 3rd, 1 669,
Ralph Montagu writes from Paris to Lord Arlington: "I went to
Martiall's to look for gloves, and I saw a present which I am sure must
cost a thousand pounds packing up. I found since that it is for my
Lady Castlemaine, which you will quickly know there. I asked him
who it was for, but he could not or would not tell me. I asked him
who paid him ; he told me, the King of France, and that he had an
order from Mr. Colbert for his money, to whom he is to give the
things."

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 169
with all the great ladies, sitting upon a carpet, on the
ground, there being no chairs, playing at ' I love my
love with an A, because he is so and so ; and I hate
him with an A, because he is this and that ' ; and some
of them, but particularly the Duchess herself, and my
Lady Castlemaine, were very witty."
We could wish that Pepys had thought fit to set
down some examples of the wit. But unfortunately
he did not. And, more unfortunately still, the never-
equaUed Diary comes to an end three months later,
to the incalculable injury of posterity. In the case of
Lady Castlemaine, its cessation means the loss of
those hundred little intimate details which bring the
person described vividly before us. Only once more
before he ceases to delight us does Pepys mention the
great lady in whom he is so interested. On April 28th
Sir H. Cholmly, calling upon him about some Navy
Office accounts, proceeds to other talk and tells him
of his proposals for a league with France in return for
a sum of money, which have been supported by such
various people as the Duke and Duchess of York, the
Queen-Mother, and Lord Arlington, though he is of
the Buckingham faction. And, also, " my Lady Castle
maine is instrumental in this matter, and, he says,
never more great with the King than she is now."
The Diary takes leave of the royal mistress with
her political power vigorous and using it (no doubt
for a sufficient consideration, even if diplomacy made
the givers discreet) on behalf of the country whose
ambassadors she had, five years previously, succeeded
in thwarting. At this moment, before the appearance

170 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
on the scene of the lady who ousted her from her
position of mistress en titre, we may conveniently
pause to consider the condition of her affairs in general.
Thanks to the King's generosity, combined with his
desire to keep her at a safer distance than when she was
in apartments next his own at Whitehall, the Countess,
having reached the age of twenty-eight, was residing
at Berkshire House, standing in its own grounds, with
no nearer neighbours than St. James's Palace. Her
three youngest children, Henry, Charlotte, and George,
were possibly living with her. The two eldest, Anne
and Charles, aged eight and seven respectively, are
known to have been in Paris now, receiving such
education as was thought fit for them. The unfor
tunate Lord Castlemaine was still out of the country.
After his final separation from his wife in December
1666 — "never to trouble one another more" — he
had gone abroad, to remain there for eleven years
without a visit to England, as far as is known. In 1668
he was a member of the mission sent by Charles to
Turkey, and he continued to travel for his own plea
sure until 1677.
To maintain the mistress in the independent position
in which he had placed her Charles, about this time,
bestowed upon her a regular income. We have seen
that as early as the beginning of September 1667
there had been rumours of an intended pension,
possibly £4000 a year, to be paid on condition that
she withdrew to France. She had not withdrawn to
France, though the expectation of her doing so was
occasionally revived. She obtained her pension, how-

THE DECLINING MISTRESS 171
ever, without such a sacrifice. A grant was made out
of the revenues of the Post Office of a sum of £4700
a year. In accordance with former precedents, to
make the transaction less notorious, the grant was not
in the lady's own name, but in those of her uncles Vis
count Grandison and Edward Villiers.
Such a sum, indeed, was inadequate to meet her
extravagant expenditure, which is no doubt the reason
why she is found soon after to have sold Berkshire
House, keeping only part of the grounds on which
to erect a new mansion. But at least it enabled
her to gratify some of her desires, such as the bestowal
of presents upon favourites. The disorder of her life
was increasing. Acting upon her determination to be
even with the King, she had descended from Charles
Hart the actor to Jacob Hall the rope-dancer, whom
Pepys sees at Bartholomew and Southwark Fairs in
the autumn of 1668 and finds " a mighty strong man."
Granger, writing a century later and therefore not
from personal acquaintance, says that " there was a
symmetry and elegance, as weU as strength and agility,
in the person of Jacob Hall, which was much admired
by the ladies, who regarded him as a due composition
of Hercules and Apollo." Gramont, as might be
expected, has something to say on the subject, the
gist of which is that Lady Castlemaine's fancy was
notorious, " but she despised all rumours and only
appeared still more handsome." She went so far as
to pay the rope-dancer a salary, according to Granger.
She certainly had her portrait painted with him, for
the picture is still in existence. " You know as to love

172 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
one is not mistriss of one's self," she wrote to Charles
eight years later. She proved this amply in her own
case, it cannot be denied.
It would seem that the scandal did not fail to pro
duce the effect which the lady desired. The King
appreciated the indignity of his mistress entering into
a contest with him in which the weapons were the
degradation of the combatants. But, characteristically,
beyond a sarcastic comment,1 his only punishment for
Lady Castlemaine's offence was to bestow a new
honour upon her. 1 Seep. 1 88.

CHAPTER IX
SUPPLANTED
YEARLY in 1670 Louis XIV achieved his desire of
binding England to France in close political union.
Negotiations had been proceeding for a long time, for
warded, as we have seen, by a variety of persons in
this country, including the royal mistress to a certain
extent. To hasten their conclusion Louis sent to
England Charles's sister, the Duchess of Orleans,
whom Charles had often declared to be the only
woman who had any hold upon him. This Louis did
much against the wishes of his brother Orleans, who
was apparently afraid that his wife was too well in-
cHned to the young and handsome Duke of Mon
mouth, her nephew, and asked Charles to send him
on a visit to Holland during her stay in England.
The story of the Orleans mission has much tragedy
in it, and a little comedy. On May 16th Hen
rietta landed at Dover, bringing in her train as
maid of honour a young lady of twenty-one years of
age caUed Louise Renee de Keroualle, who at once
attracted the ever roving eyes of Charles. Un
consciously perhaps at first, France had discovered the
means of securing the English King's affections, as
well as interests, on her side. Instead of buying the
173

174 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
English mistress, which would be a difficult and expen
sive matter, she sold him a French one. Charles's passion
for Barbara Palmer was doubtless dead and buried
before Louise de Keroualle set foot in England ; but
the latter's appearance shortened the remaining empire
over the King of her who had ruled him so long. It
was impossible to keep two such harpies simultaneously
in the immediate neighbourhood of the Privy Purse,
though not impossible (as it was unfortunately dis
covered) to have one of them, as it were, installed on
the table in the Palace and the other hovering outside
at no great distance, ready to swoop in and carry off
the side-dishes.
Louise de Keroualle did not immediately step into
her disreputable position. In June the Duchess of
Orleans returned to France, after a secret treaty had
been signed at Dover on the ist, by which Charles
bound England to engage with France in war against
Holland, in return for a subsidy of three million francs
a year, with an extra two miUion for declaring him
self a Roman Catholic. With the Duchess returned
her maid of honour, but not before Charles had
gaUantly intimated how much he would like to keep
her at the English Court. On June 29th the Duchess,
after having been welcomed back most graciously by
Louis and his Queen, but very sourly by her husband,
died so suddenly that there were at first suspicions of
foul play, and the relations between the English and
French Courts became rather cool. To remedy this,
somebody, perhaps Colbert, one of the astutest of
ambassadors, suggested that the charming maid of

: a mezzotint engraving after the painting by Sir Peter Lely

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

SUPPLANTED 175
honour should be sent to London. It was said also
that the Duke of Buckingham, whom Charles
despatched to Paris to thank Louis for his con
dolences on Henrietta's death and to strengthen
the harmony between the two Powers, had repre
sented to his King that it would be very fitting for
him now to look after the interests of his late
sister's young attendant.1 Buckingham, it must be
remembered, was now actively hostile to the mistress
in possession and was eager therefore to see her de
prived of her remaining power. Louise made a show
of reluctance, but finally gave way and crossed the
Channel in charge of Ralph Montagu, the English
Ambassador in Paris. On November 4th, 1670,
Evelyn saw at Court for the first time " that famous
beauty, but in my opinion of a childish, simple, and
baby face, MademoiseUe de Querouaille, lately Maide
of Honor to Madame, and now to be so to the
Queene." On her arrival in England Louise still
proved very coy, to the alarm of Louis's representative
at Whitehall, who feared that the plan of binding
Charles firmly to the French side by means of the
lady might miscarry. Almost another year had to pass
before the beauty would give way. No doubt she
1 The Marquis de Saint-Maurice, Savoy's Ambassador in Paris,
writing to the Duke Charles Emmanuel II on September 19th, says :
"The Duke of Buckingham has taken with him Mile, de Keroualle,
who was attached to her late Highness ; she is a beautiful girl, and it
is thought that the plan is to make her mistress to the King of Great
Britain. He would like to dethrone Lady Castlemaine, who is his
enemy, and His Most Christian Majesty will not be sorry to see the
position filled by one of his subjects, for it is said the ladies have great
influence over the mind of the said King of England."

176 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
understood the game better than even Colbert. Cer
tainly, when once she stooped to conquer, she esta
blished herself in her position for the remainder of the
King's lifetime.
As Louise de Keroualle did not even reach England
until the autumn of 1670, Charles's gift of a new and
higher title to the Countess of Castlemaine in the
summer of that year cannot be regarded in the
light of a consolation to the mistress whom he was
replacing by another. It was on August 23rd that he
created her Baroness Nonsuch, Countess of Southamp
ton, and Duchess of Cleveland. It is significant that
in the patent the remainder is granted to Charles and
George Fitzroy, described as her first and second sons,
the paternity of Henry thus being still disowned by
the King. Henry had to wait another two years for
recognition. The Gramont Memoirs give an extraordinary reason
for Charles's bestowal of the new honour upon Lady
Castlemaine at this moment. According to them, it
was the result of a violent quarrel between King and
lady over her continued infatuation for Henry
Jermyn. Charles, says Gramont, " did not think it
consistent with his dignity that a mistress whom he
had honoured with public distinction, and who stiU
received considerable support from him, should appear
chained to the car of the most ridiculous conqueror
that ever was. His Majesty had frequently expostu
lated with the Countess upon this subject, but his
expostulations were never attended to. It was in one
of these differences that, when he advised her to bestow

SUPPLANTED 177
her favours upon Jacob Hall the rope-dancer, who
was able to return them, rather than lavish her money
upon Jermyn to no purpose, since it would be more
honourable to her to pass for the mistress of the
former than for the very humble servant of the latter,
she was not proof against his raillery. The impetuosity
of her temper broke forth like lightning." Reproaches
against his promiscuous and low amours, floods of
tears, and Medea-like threats of destroying her
children and burning his palace followed. The King,
who only wanted peace, was in despair how to obtain
it. So Gramont (he says) was called in as mediator
by mutual consent. He drew up a treaty by which he
managed to please both parties. This ran as follows :
" That Lady Castlemaine should give up Jermyn
for ever ; that, as a proof of her sincerity and the
reality of his disgrace, she should agree to his being
sent into the country for some time ; that she should
rail no more against MUe. Wells [one of the maids of
honour who had attracted the King] or MUe. Stewart ;
and this without any constraint on the King's be
haviour to her ; that in consideration of these con
descensions His Majesty should immediately give her
the title of Duchess, with all the honours and privileges
appertaining thereto, and an addition to her pension
to enable her to support the dignity."
The proceedings at the Court of Charles II were
certainly extraordinary, but not quite so extraordinary
as to induce us to credit a tale like this in its entirety.
It is, however, not improbable that there was some

178 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
such quarrel between the King and his mistress as the
Memoirs describe, and that the latter exacted as the
price of peace the rank of Duchess. Charles was never
grudging with titles.
The choice of the names Cleveland and Southamp
ton is unexplained. An earlier Cleveland peerage had
lapsed three years previously when Thomas Went-
worth, Earl of Cleveland, one of the heroes of the
Battle of Worcester, died leaving only a granddaughter,
Lady Henrietta Wentworth, afterwards mistress of
the Duke of Monmouth. Southampton was the first
title of Barbara's old enemy the Lord Treasurer —
Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton and
Chichester ; and it is curious to notice that Charles
Fitzroy, who was now, as first heir to his mother,
created Earl of Southampton, was three years later
made Duke of Southampton and Earl of Chichester.
The grant of the barony of Nonsuch no doubt in
dicated that the King had already decided on the gift
of Nonsuch House, which he made five months
later. The assumption of her new rank was followed by
the Duchess's bestowal of the name of Cleveland
House on the residence she was building on the unsold
portions of the Berkshire House estate. Cleveland
House, described by Evelyn as " a noble palace, too
good for that infamous . . ." (here words fail him),
was puUed down and replaced by Bridgewater House
in the middle of the nineteenth century, but its
memory is preserved in the present-day Cleveland
Square and Row, Westminster. It was perhaps for

SUPPLANTED 179
the decoration of the grounds of her new house that
the Cupid was intended which is mentioned in the
last letter in the Chesterfield collection addressed to
the " Dutches of Cleaveland," dated 1670. Lord
Chesterfield, a year ago married for the third time,
boasts of his obedience to the least of the Duchess's
commands, having as soon as he came to town be
spoken a figure for her fountain, a Cupid kneeling on
a rock and shooting from his bow a stream of water
up towards heaven. " This may be interpreted by
some," he writes, " that your ladyship, not being
content with the conquest of one world, doth now
by your devotions attack the other. I hope this stile
hath to much gravity to appear gallant ; since many
years agoe your ladyship gave me occasion to repeate
those two Unes :
" Vous m 'otes tout espoir pour vmts, belle inhumaine,
Et pour tout autre que vous vous m'otes tout desir."
Doubtless Her Grace reflected, as she read the
closing words of this letter, on the existence of Lady
Chesterfield number three — for whose loss, by the
way, her husband evinced considerable sorrow when
she died in 1678.
In this year of fresh honours to her Lady of the Bed
chamber, there seems to have been a revival of the
rumours of the coming divorce of the unhappy Queen.
Burnet is our authority for the prevalence of talk about
the probability of Catherine " turning religious " and
a biU being brought before Parliament to legalise a
divorce. With his usual readiness to attribute the

180 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
worst to Charles himself,1 he makes him the originator
of the scheme. " It was believed," he continues,
" that upon this the Duchess of York sent an express
to Rome with the notice of her conversion ; and that
orders were sent from Rome to all- about the Queen
to persuade her against such a proposition, if any
should suggest it to her. She herself had no mind
to be a nun, and the Duchess was afraid of seeing
another Queen ; and the mistress, created at that
time Duchess of Cleveland, knew that she must be
the first sacrifice to a beloved Queen ; and she recon
ciled herself upon this to the Duchess of York."
There is no reason to doubt that the divorce
rumours were actuaUy current again in 1670, to whom
ever the revival of the scheme was due. Once more
the Queen had disappointed her husband's hopes in
the previous year, and he might well despair now of
ever seeing a legitimate heir from her. As for the
aUiance between the Duchess of Cleveland and the
Yorks, the reasons for their opposition to the idea of
a new queen were as good as ever. We do not know,
apart from what Burnet says, of any necessity for
" reconciliation " between the two Duchesses. Her
Royal Highness seems to have become a Roman
Catholic at heart as early as 1668, but it was not until
1 In return Charles impugned the Bishop's truthfulness. The
then exiled Queen (Mary of Modena), meeting George Granville,
first Baron Lansdowne in Paris at the time when Burnet's History
appeared, told him that she well remembered Dr. Burnet and his
character; "that the King and the Duke, and the whole Court, looked
upon him as the greatest liar upon the face of the earth, and there was
no believing one word that he said."

SUPPLANTED 181
two years later that she was actually received into
the Church. The Duke of York's conversion is placed
by Sir John Reresby in the same year. According to
his Memoirs, when Henrietta of Orleans paid her
momentous visit to England, she " confirmed His
High Highness the Duke in the Popish superstition,
of which he had as yet been barely suspected ; and it
is said to have been his grand argument for such his
adherence to those tenets, that his mother had, upon
her last blessing, commanded him to be firm and
steadfast thereto." James, from his own Memoirs,
appears not to have withdrawn from the Church
of England until 1672. Both he and his wife, how
ever, were in feeling Roman Catholics considerably
before their respective conversions and had therefore
a bond of sympathy with the royal mistress, poor
ornament though she might be to any church.
Buckingham's strong Protestantism, on the other
hand, made him still more bitterly hostile to his cousin
and the Yorks as he saw them drawn closer together.
It also forced the King to keep him, like Lauderdale
and Ashley — all members of the ruling " cabal " —
actuaUy ignorant, when they signed a treaty with
France on the last day of 1670, that there was the
secret Treaty of Dover already in force seven months
ago ! We need not suppose that the Duchess of
Cleveland had any knowledge of this stupendous piece
of duplicity, although the Duke of York (and there
fore possibly his wife) had. Charles was not so foolish
as to commit so ruinous a secret to the keeping of a
lady with a temper and a tongue like Barbara's.

1 82 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
The ever-rising French influence, even before the
estabUshment of Louise de Keroualle as mistress,
doubtless accounts for the very few public appearances
of Lady Cleveland of which we hear in 1671. She is
seen at a ballet at Court in February " very fine in a
riche petticoat and halfe skirte, and a short man's coat
very richly laced, a perwig cravatt, and a hat : her hat
and maske was very rich." About the same time also
she drives in Hyde Park in a coach with eight horses,
and rumour attributes to her the intention of having
twelve horses. On March 2nd Evelyn has an interest
ing entry. He walks through St. James's Park to the
Privy Garden, " where I both saw and heard a very
familiar discourse between [the King] and Mrs.
Nellie as they called an impudent comedian, she look
ing out of her garden on a terrace at the top of the
wall and [the King] standing on the greene walke
under it. I was heartily sorry at this scene," continues
Evelyn. " Thence the King walked to the Duchess
of Cleveland, another lady of pleasure and curse of
our nation." It seems to have been impossible for
Evelyn to mention the lady's name without recording
his detestation of her, just as Pepys could seldom do
so without a note of admiration. Yet the two diarists
were exceUent friends !
As though to console her for her supersession as a
political influence, the King was lavishly generous to
the Duchess of Cleveland in the year 167 1. He began
with a grant in January of Nonsuch House and Park,
near Epsom — the complement of the lowest of the
three titles conferred upon her in the previous

SUPPLANTED 183
August. Nonsuch House or Palace had been built by
Henry VIII as a hunting-box. After it had passed
temporarily into private hands Elizabeth had pur
chased it back for the Crown, and her successors
had used it as an occasional residence, Charles I having
taken Henrietta Maria thither after their quarrel over
his dismissal of her French attendants, and afterwards
settling it upon her. In spite of the damage done to it
during the Commonwealth and its use as the office
of the Exchequer during the period of the Plague in
London, it had come down to this date in excellent
preservation. Evelyn, who visited it on January 3rd,
1666, praises it highly, with its plaster statues and
bas-reliefs inserted between the timbers and pun
cheons of its outer walls, " which must needs have
been the work of some celebrated Italian " ; its in
genious arrangement of slate scales on wood, " the
slate fastened on the timber in pretty figures, that has,
Hke a coate of armour, preserved it from rotting " ;
and its " mezzo-relievos as big as the life, the storie is
of the Heathen Gods." As for the grounds, " there
stands in the garden two handsome stone pyramids,
and the avenue planted with rows of f aire elmes, but
the rest of these goodly trees . . . were felled by
those destructive and avaricious rebells in the late
warr, which defaced one of the stateliest seates His
Majesty had." Alas ! a worse fate was now to befall
it. The new owner pulled down the old palace of
Henry VIII and turned the park into farm-land, in
order to extract fuller cash- value from her acquisition.
This grant was made in the names of Viscount

1 84 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Grandison and of Henry Brounker, a creature of the
King's, justly called by Pepys " a pestilential rogue."
A letter survives, written by Charles to Brounker on
August 25th, in which His Majesty refers to the
changes at Nonsuch. " The Dutches of Cleaveland,"
he says, " has satisfied me it is both for her advantage
and those in the reversion that Nonsuch should be
suddenly disparked, to avoid aU sutes and contests
between her and the Lord Berkeley, and that she
intends to let it out at a rent which is to be reserved
to her Grace," &c.
We hear of enormous money gifts later in the
year. Writing on August 9th to a friend traveUing
in Persia, Andrew Marvell teUs how the House of
Commons has grown " extreme chargeable to the
King and odious to the people." Lord St. John, Sir
Robert Howard, Sir John Bennet, and Sir William
BuckneU the brewer, all members of the Commons,
have " farmed the old customs, with the new Act
of Imposition upon Wines and the Wine Licenses, at
six hundred thousand pounds a year, and have signed
and sealed ten thousand pounds a year more to the
Duchess of Cleveland, who has likewise near ten
thousand pounds a year out of the new farm of the
county excise of Beer and Ale ; five thousand pounds
a year out of the Post Office, and, they say, the re
version of all the King's leases, the reversion of aU
places in the Custom House, the Green Wax, and
what not ! All promotions, spiritual and temporal,
pass under her cognizance." Near the end of the
same letter he relates how " Barclay," i.e. Baron

SUPPLANTED 185
Berkeley of Stratton, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, has
been compelled to come over to England to pay ten
thousand pounds rent to his landlady Cleveland."
What precisely Berkeley is paying rent for is not clear —
though Berkeley's name is also mentioned in Charles's
letter above. But we know that some time later the
Duchess of Cleveland appears as the recipient of
estates in Ireland sufficient to produce a revenue of
£1000 a year to compensate her for a promise which
Charles had made her and not kept. How this came
about is told by Carte in his Life of the Duke of
Ormonde. Explaining why the Duchess always did
Ormonde all the ill offices that were in her power, he
says :
" She had obtained of the King a warrant for the
grant of the Phcenix Park and House near Dublin,
which was the only place of retirement in the summer
season for a chief governor ; and the more necessary
at that time, when His Grace coming over found the
castle of Dublin so out of repair, and in such a miser
able condition, after the neglect of it during the late
usurpation, that it did not afford him sufficient
accommodation. The Lord Lieutenant refused to pass
this warrant, stopped the grant, and prevailed with
His Majesty to enlarge the park by the purchase of
four hundred and fifty acres of land adjoining in
Chapel Izod of the Lord Chancellor Eustace, and to
fit up the house for the convenience of himself and
his successors in the government of Ireland. This
incensed the Lady Castlemaine so highly that upon
His Grace's return to England, meeting him in one
of the apartments about Court, she without any

1 86 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
manner of regard to the place or company, fell upon
him with a torrent of abusive language, loaded him
with all the reproaches that the rancour of her heart
could suggest, or the folly of her tongue could utter,
and told him in fine that she hoped to live to see him
hanged. The Duke heard all unmoved, and only made
her this memorable reply : That he was not in so much
haste to put an end to her days, for all he wished
with regard to her was that he might live to see her
old." The Duchess, nevertheless, forgave Ormonde suffi
ciently to ask a favour of him many years later, as will
be seen.
Marvell, in his above-quoted letter, we may sup
pose, is summarising for the benefit of his friend in
Persia all the Duchess's recent acquisitions, not merely
those of the year 1671. It is a fact, however, that in
the following February yet another grant was made
by the King to Viscount Grandison, Henry Howard,
and Francis Villiers of a number of manors and ad-
vowsons in Surrey, two-thirds of which they pro
ceeded to declare they would hold in trust for the
Duchess of Cleveland.
Even if Marvell's list be a summary to date, there
fore, it is plain that the Duchess was in possession of
enormous resources soon after her acquisition of the
title. As to the manner in which she dissipated much
of her wealth there is no doubt. Reckless gambling
and reckless expenditure on favourites accounted for
vast sums. Of her gifts to Hart and salary to the rope-
dancer we have already heard. She added a more

SUPPLANTED 187
aristocratic client to her list. The Gramont Memoirs,
with their usual disregard for dates, place the begin
ning of her intrigue with John Churchill in the year
when the Court visited the West of England — 1663,
at which time Churchill was but thirteen ! This is
obviously absurd. That extraordinary person, Mrs.
Mary de la Riviere Manley, who disputes with Mrs.
Aphra Behn the palm for feminine literary indelicacy
in the Restoration era, seems to place it in 1667. But
Mrs. Manley did not make the acquaintance of the
Duchess of Cleveland until twenty-six years later,
indeed was not born for another three years, and she
is not, therefore, a first-hand authority concerning
her temporary patroness's doings in 1667. The fact
that Pepys has no mention at all of John Churchill in
the Diary is a very strong argument against his
association with the Duchess previous to May 1669.
All that we can be certain of, however, is that they
were acquainted before the end of 1 671, since their
daughter Barbara was born in the July of the following
year. Mrs. Manley in The New Atalantis attributes the
introduction of the young ensign to the royal mistress
to a chance meeting at Cleveland House. Churchill's
maternal aunt was " surintendant of the family of the
Dutchess De V Inconstant, Sultana Mistress to Sigis-
mund the Second," and her nephew used to visit his
aunt and fiU himself with sweetmeats. " The Dutchess
came one day unexpectedly down the back stairs to
take chair, and found 'em together ; he had slip'd
away, for fear of anger, but not so speedily but she

188 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
had a glimpse of his graceful person. She ask'd who
he was ; and being answer'd, she caus'd him to be
call'd. . . . The Governess, knowing the Dutchess's
amorous star, was transported at the happy intro
duction of her nephew," etc.
Perhaps this must be dismissed as romance based
on gossip related to Mrs. Manley after her quarrel
with the Duchess in 1694. But doubtless the Duchess
when she first met Churchill was immediately smitten.
The fourth Lord Chesterfield, writing to his son,
says that Marlborough's figure was beautiful, his
manner irresistible by either man or woman. The
Duchess did not attempt to resist, and the affair was
soon known to the King. Churchill has been identified
with the hero of Burnet's story of how an intrigue,
" by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham, was
discovered by the King in person, the party concerned
leaping out of the window." Charles was indignant,
as he had been in the case of Jermyn ; not jealous over
the lady falling in love, but angry at the exhibi
tion which she made of it. As wiU be seen, his desire,
after he had pensioned her off, was that she should
make the least noise she could.
On the present occasion he took no steps to punish
the offenders. He dismissed Churchill with, nothing
worse than the cynical " I forgive you, for you do it
for your bread ! " The sting of this was that the
Duchess of Cleveland had been lavishly generous to the
young man, whether or not she had at this time already
presented him with that famous £5000 which Churchill,
showing thus early in life the appreciation of the value

SUPPLANTED 189
of money which marked him so strongly later, in
vested profitably in the purchase of an annuity of
£500 a year. This present from the Duchess was, as
both Lord Chesterfield and Boyer remark, the founda
tion of Churchill's subsequent fortune. His gratitude,
however, for the lady's generosity was smaU. Mrs.
Manley in her roman a clef, The Adventures of Rivella
relates how " from Hilaria she received the first ill-
impressions of Count Fortunatus, touching his ingrati
tude, immorality, and avarice ; being herself an eye
witness when he deny'd Hilaria (who had given him
thousands) the common civility of lending her twenty
guineas at Basset ; which, together with betraying
his master, and raising himself by his sister's dis
honour, she had always esteem'd a just and flaming
subject for satire." 1
In The New Atalantis she describes the same scene
of the refusal in graphic detail. The Duchess, she
says, had oftentimes not a pistole at command,
" solicited the Count (whom she had rais'd) by his favour
with the Court that her affairs might be put into a
better posture, but he was deaf to all her intreaties ;
nay, he carried ingratitude much further ; one night
at an assembly of the best quality, when the Count
tallied to them at Basset, the Dutchess lost all her money
& begged the favour of him, in a very civil manner,
to lend her twenty pieces ; which he absolutely refused,
though he had a thousand upon the table before him,
and told her coldly, the bank never lent any money.
1 Rivella is Mrs. Manley herself, Hilaria the Duchess of Cleveland,
Count Fortunatus the Duke of Marlborough.

190 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Not a person upon the place but blamed him in their
hearts : as to the Duchess's part, her resentment burst
out into a bleeding at her nose, and breaking of her
lace ; without which aid, it is believed, her vexation
had killed her upon the spot."
Churchill " could refuse more gracefully than other
people could grant," says Lord Chesterfield in the
above-mentioned letter to his son. His refusal of
the Duchess's request for a loan is scarcely an instance
of this !
To supply Churchill with the £5000 without in
convenience to herself the Duchess is credited with
having got double the amount out of the notorious
spendthrift and rake, Sir Edward Hungerford, who
founded Hungerford Market some years later on the
site of his town house, burnt in 1669, and after seUing
the market, like some thirty manors which were once
his, died in comparative poverty two years after the
Duchess. This affair with Hungerford explains Pope's
allusion to the lady
" Who of ten thousand gulled her Knight,
Then asked ten thousand for another night ;
The gallant too, to whom she paid it down,
Lived to refuse the mistress half-a-crown."
Boyer, in his obituary notice of the Duchess, after
speaking of her affair with Churchill, says : "I had
rather draw a Veil over the Life this Lady led from
henceforward. . . . Indeed it would be too tedious
to enter upon a Detail of her other Amours." To a
certain extent we may follow Boyer's discreet example,
since there is little interest beyond mere curiosity in

SUPPLANTED 191
many of the lady's rapidly increasing love-affairs.
But one calls for attention, since the other person in
volved in it was the celebrated dramatist Wycherley,
who owed not a little of his early success to the
patronage of Her Grace. Some time in the early spring
of 1 67 1, it would appear, he had produced at Drury
Lane Theatre his Love in a Wood, or St. James's Park,
his first written and first acted play. The Duchess
of Cleveland went to a performance, with a result
which the dramatist could not have anticipated. John
Dennis, the friend of Wycherley, Congreve, Dryden,
and other wits, in his Familiar Letters describes what
happened on the very next day following the Duchess's
visit to Drury Lane. As Wycherley was going, he
says, through Pall Mall towards St. James's in his
chariot, he met the lady in hers. She, thrusting half
her body out of the chariot, cried out aloud to him,
" You, Wycherley, you are the son of a  ," at the
same time laughing heartily. Wycherley, we are told,
was very much surprised, but soon apprehended that
the aUusion was to a song in Love in a Wood, suggesting,
in language almost as coarse as the Duchess's own, that
the mothers of great wits had always a bad character.
The rest may be told in Dennis's words :
" As during Mr Wycherley's surprise the chariots
drove different ways, they were soon at a considerable
distance from each other, when Mr. Wycherley, re
covering from his surprise, ordered his coachman to
drive back and to overtake the lady. As soon as he
got over against her, he said to her : ' Madam, you
have been pleased to bestow a title on me which

192 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
generally belongs to the fortunate. Will your Lady
ship be at the play to-night ? ' ' Well,' she reply'd,
' what if I am there ? ' ' Why, then I will be there
to wait upon your Ladyship, tho' I disappoint a very
fine woman who has made me an assignation.' ' So,'
said she, ' you are sure to disappoint a woman who has
favoured you for one who has not.' ' Yes,' reply'd he,
' if she who has not favoured me is the finer woman
of the two. But he who wiU be constant to your
Ladyship, tiU he can find a finer woman, is sure to die
your captive.' The lady blushed and bade her coach
man drive away. ... In short she was that night in
the first row of the King's box in Drury Lane, and
Mr Wycherley in the pit under her, where he enter
tained her during the whole play."
Wycherley was a very handsome man, as his con
temporaries teU us and his portrait by Lely proves,
and it is not to be wondered at, therefore, that the
Duchess of Cleveland took a great fancy to him. She
not only favoured him with her own society but
introduced him also to Court and King. Wycherley,
in his turn, when he printed his Love in a Wood, pre
faced it with a dedication to " Her Grace the Duchess
of Cleveland," which is not only important for fixing
the date of his first play's appearance, but also an
interesting document in itself, as a few extracts will
show :
" Madam," says Wycherley,
" All authors whatever in their dedication are
poets ; but I am now to write to a lady who stands as
little in need of flattery, as her beauty of art ; other-

/crurU/if fpJ
-- ' . 7ii,i/iy ' . -nee 4 ¦- S "><44^/
'"'¦',"J >¦"¦¦<  QaSntttin rrilCtaturiLfttMc Huiy
From a mezzotint engraving by I. Smith, after apainting by Sir Peter Lely
WILLIAM WYCHERLEY

SUPPLANTED 193
wise I should prove as ill a poet to her in my dedication
as to my readers in my play. I can do your Grace no
honour, nor make you more admirers than you have
already ; yet I can do myself the honour to let the
world know I am the greatest you have. ... I cannot
but publicly give your Grace my humble acknowledge
ments for the favours I have received from you : this,
I say, is the poet's gratitude, which, in plain English,
is only pride and ambition ; and that the world might
know that your Grace did me the honour to see my
play twice together. Yet, perhaps, my enviers of
your favour will suggest 'twas in Lent, and therefore
for your mortification. Then, as a jealous author, I am
concerned not to have your Grace's favours lessened,
or rather my reputation ; and to let them know you
were pleased, after that, to command a copy from me
of this play ; — the only way, without beauty and wit,
to win a poor poet's heart."
The dedication closes with a panegyric on the lady.
" You have that perfection of beauty (without think
ing it so) which others of your sex but think they have ;
that generosity in your actions which others of your
quaUty have only in their promises ; that spirit, wit
and judgment, and aU other quaUfications which fit
heroes to command and would make any but your
Grace proud. ... In fine, speaking thus of your
Grace, I should please aU the world but you ; therefore
I must once observe and obey you against my will,
and say no more than that I am, Madam, Your Grace's
most obliged and most humble servant
" William Wycherley."
The irregularity of the ex-mistress's life was no
doubt one of the reasons why the King reduced the

194 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
amount of his merely friendly acquaintance with her.
On February 22nd, 1672, we find Charles Lyttelton
writing to Viscount Hatton that " the King has of
late forebore visiting my Lady Cleveland] ; but some
two days since was with her againe and I suppose will
continue to goe sometimes, though it may not be
so often." Again, on March 22nd, " The King goes
but seldom to Cleveland House." On the other hand,
according to Lyttelton, " Mdlle. Keerewell is infinitely
in favour, and, to say truth, she seems as weU to
deserve it, for she is wondrous handsome, and, they
say, as much witt and addresse as ever anybody had."
Mdlle. Keerewell, also popularly known as Madam
Carwell, or CareweU, is, of course, Louise de KerouaUe
whose ascendancy over the King is now established.
In the previous October Charles had gone to New
market for the " autumnal sports " in the company
of " jolly blades, racing, dauncing, feasting, and
revelling, more resembling a luxurious and abandoned
rout than a Christian Court," as Evelyn, who lodged
first with the surely uncongenial Henry Jermyn and
then with the Arlingtons at Euston, sadly exclaims.
The chief sporting event was a race between His
Majesty's Woodcock and Tom Eliot's Flatfoot, before
many thousand spectators. But a more impor
tant affair was the presence, as the guest of Lord
and Lady Arlington, of " the famous new French
Maid of Honour Mile Querouaille, now coming to be
in great favour with the King." His Majesty, indeed,
came to Euston almost every second day and fre
quently slept there. Colbert was also a guest at the

SUPPLANTED 195
house, and with his benevolent aid, no doubt, matters
were arranged to Charles's desire. " 'Twas with con
fidence believed," Evelyn says, that the lady was
" first made a misse, as they caU these unhappy crea
tures, with all solemnity at this time." And in token
of her shame the Duchess of Cleveland's successor
on October 19th appeared at the races in the royal
coach and six. The visit to Newmarket fulfilled
Colbert's hopes. The King's affections were secured,
especially when it was known that the baby-faced
maid of honour was going to present him with a child.
By a curious coincidence in the same month of
July 1672 there were born Barbara Palmer, on the 16th,
and Charles Lennox, on the 29th. The latter was the
King's son by Louise de Keroualle, the former the
first of the known offspring of the Duchess of Cleveland
that was certainly not the King's — being universally
credited to Churchill.
The King showed not the slightest displeasure over
the appearance of the little Barbara. A fortnight
later he graced with his presence the formal marriage
of the Duchess's second son Henry to Isabella Bennet,
only daughter of the Earl of Arlington. This is the
union so ornately celebrated by Nahum Tate in his
second part of Absalom and Achitophel :
" His age with only one mild heiress blest,
In all the bloom of smiling nature drest ;
And blest again to see his flower allied
To David's stock, and made young Othniel's bride."
Young Othniel, otherwise Henry Fitzroy, was only
nine, Isabella five, so that the ceremony was rather

196 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
of the nature of a betrothal and was repeated seven
years later. Evelyn, who was present as a friend of
the Arlingtons, " tooke no great joy at the thing for
many reasons." The bride to him appears now " a
sweete child if ever there was any," and on a subse
quent occasion " worthy for her beauty and virtue
of the greatest Prince in Christendom." His opinion
at the time of the second marriage we shall see
later. The presence of the King and " all the grandees,"
as Evelyn records, at the marriage and the officiation
of the Archbishop of Canterbury show that His
Majesty had at last determined to recognise Henry
as his son, especially as on August 15th he conferred
upon him, " our second naturaU son by ye Lady
Barbara," &c, the titles of Baron Sudbury, Viscount
Ipswich, and Earl of Euston ; before his younger
brother George, whom the King always acknowledged,
had received such an honour. Henry's wedding,
too, was celebrated with a splendour that had been
totally lacking in the case of his elder, Charles Fitzroy.
In the previous year Charles, aged nine, had been
contracted to a child bride, Mary Wood, seven years
of age, daughter of Sir Henry Wood, a clerk of the
Green Cloth. Possibly the King had not approved
of so undistinguished an alliance. But the Duchess
of Cleveland, with her eye on Mary's considerable
fortune for her son, had obtained forcible and iUegal
possession of the little girl and insisted on an immediate
marriage and conveyance of the dowry.
With regard to George, we find a grant of £500

SUPPLANTED 197
made, in the names of Grandison and Edward ViUiers,
to him and his heirs male. Before the end of the year
the King had granted all three boys arms, crests, and
supporters ; and two months later their sisters were
also furnished with arms.
Clearly, therefore, to whatever extent the French
mistress had taken the place of the Duchess of Cleve
land, and however annoyed the King was at the latter's
indiscretions, he had no intention of stopping his
bounty to her or of shghting their chUdren. That
this was universally recognised is clear from the alUances
which these children were able to make, both the sons
and the daughters. As early as the autumn of 1671
Lord Howard confided to Evelyn his project of
marrying his eldest son to one of the daughters of
the King and Duchess, " by which he reckoned he
should come into mighty favour." This scheme was
not carried out. The young lady Anne Palmer came
back to her mother from Paris in the autumn of the
following year, escorted by her uncle Grandison, but
when she married, in 1674, it was a Lennard, not a
Howard, she took as her husband.
The year 1672 was associated with death as weU as
marriage. Before its close the Duchess of Cleveland
lost her grandmother, Dame Barbara ViUiers. Pre
viously she had lost her mother, but except that it
occurred later than March 1671 the date of her death
is unknown. So little is the former Mary Bayning
heard of that one cannot but suspect that she and
her daughter were on unfriendly terms during the
latter's ascendancy over Charles II. She had taken a

198 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
third husband, Arthur Gorges, and survived him like
the other two. Otherwise her doings are unknown.
That the grandmother, too, did not die on the best
of terms with her granddaughter seems probable from
the smaUness of her legacy to her — £50 with which to
buy a mourning ring. The old lady may have con
sidered that it was not money but respect that the
Duchess lacked.

CHAPTER X
THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY
|N AprU 4th, 1672, Evelyn made the following
entry in his Diary. " I went to see the fop-
ies of the Papists at Somerset House, and York
iuse, where now the French Ambassador had
ised to be represented our Blessed Saviour at the
schal Supper with his Disciples, in figures and
FUppets made as big as the life, of waxwork, curiously
clad and sitting round a large table, the roome nobly
hung, and shining with innumerable lamps and candles :
this was exposed to all the world, all the City came to
see it : such liberty had the Roman Catholics at this
time obtained."
It is strange to read this when we know that eleven
months afterwards the Test Act passed the House
of Lords, whereby aU Roman Catholics were de
barred from holding any office under the Crown
or post in the Royal Household. Extreme bitterness
of feeling in England against Popery had indeed
begun to make itself felt as early as 1666. The Great
Fire was attributed variously to the Dutch, the
French, and the native Roman Catholics, but espe-
ciaUy to a plot between the two last-named. Out
rages against foreigners and Romanists occurred
before the Fire itself was subdued. To the flourish-
199

200 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
ing of the legend two years later the mock answer
of Lady Castlemaine to the libellous petition of
March 1668 bears witness. But the French alliance,
foUowed by a large influx of French visitors into the
English Court, produced its natural effect, and wha,t
Marvell twice in his letters caUs " the insolence of
the Papists " — which was little more than the open
avowal of their beliefs — was constantly on the increase.
The news of the conversion of the Duchess of
York before her death in March 1671, coupled with
the widespread belief that the Duke had also gone
over already, served to aggravate popular hostility
toward Rome. So strong had the prejudice grown
before the end of 1672 that the Protestant members
of the Cabal extorted the King's most reluctant
consent to a Test Act. The first result of this was
that the Duke of York, though not yet a declared
Roman Catholic, refused to take the required oath
and laid down all his offices, including that of Lord
High Admiral, which was dear to him. An instructive
letter preserved among the coUection addressed to
Sir Joseph WiUiamson, Keeper of the King's Paper
Office, while he was acting as plenipotentiary for
England at the Congress of Cologne in 1673, shows
what effect this had on the public. " Its not to be
writt," says Henry Ball, Williamson's chief clerk
at the Paper Office, " the horrid discourses that
passes now upon His RoyaU Highness surrendring ;
they call him Squire James and say he was alwayes
a Romanist." A little later Ball declares the talk
of the town to be as bad against the Duke as ever

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 201
it was against his father in the height of his troubles ;
and again of the town's " averseness to both France
and Popery, the latter of which is the generall eccho
of every place." The remarriage of the Duke to
Mary Beatrice d'Este (Mary of Modena), "a stiffe
Roman Catholique," makes things worse than ever.
Talk is " undecent and extravagent " ; and " never
did the common streame run swifter against the
Recusants than now." In the November of the same
year Charles Hatton writes to his brother of the
incredible number of bonfires on the 5th, the Pope
and his cardinals being burnt in effigy in Cheapside —
a fact which is also noticed by Evelyn, and attributed
by him to displeasure at the Duke for altering his
religion and marrying an Italian lady.
One of the sufferers through the Test Act was the
Duchess of Cleveland, who was compelled to resign
that post of Lady of the Bedchamber to the Queen
which had cost such a struggle eleven years before.
Possibly she did not come in for such obloquy now
for her religious beliefs as the reigning mistress ;
it was for Louise de KerouaUe, this year created
Duchess of Portsmouth, that Nell Gwynn was one
day mistaken as she was driving through the streets
of London and had to jump out of her coach and
explain to the " good people," who were proposing
to mob her, that she was the Protestant mistress.
The French beauty's patent, making her Duchess
of Portsmouth, Countess of Farnham, and Baroness
Petersfield, was ready in July 1673, but there was
some difficulty about passing it before she was

202 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
naturalised an English subject. This being sur
mounted, there was now a second peeress who owed
her title solely to her complaisance to the King.
Rumour would have it that there was going to be
a third — no other than " Madam Gwynn," who " is
promised to be Countess of Plymouth as soon as
they can see how the people will relish itt." The
general public would doubtless have relished it far
more than they rehshed the Cleveland and Ports
mouth peerages ; but Nell Gwynn got no nearer to
the ranks of the aristocracy than by the creation of
her son, Charles Beauclerc, first Earl of Burford
and then, in 1684, Duke of St. Albans.
As if to appease the former mistress for the dignity
about to be conferred upon her successor, the King
was very prodigal with his grants to the Duchess
of Cleveland and her children in the first half of
1673. In January he invested the young Earl of
Southampton with the Order of the Garter. In
February he made the already mentioned grant of
arms to the Fitzroy girls. In AprU he appointed
the Earl of Euston Receiver-General and ComptroUer
of the Seals of the Courts of King's Bench and
Common Pleas. In June there were warrants issued
for a grant to Viscount Grandison and Edward
Villiers of moneys arising from rents, etc., in the
Duchy of Cornwall ; for a free gift of £5000 to
Grandison ; and for the reversion of certain manors
in Huntingdonshire to Grandison and ViUiers and
their heirs — all for the benefit of the Duchess in
reahty. And in July the revenue of the wine licences

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 203
were charged with a pension of £5500 a year to Lord
Grandison for the Duchess of Cleveland's life, and
after her decease to the Earl of Southampton and
his heirs male, etc. FinaUy, in November a letter
from one Derham to Sir Joseph WiUiamson states
that " there was brought into the House [of Commons]
an account of foure hundred thousand pounds
given away since last Session, of which the Duchesses
of Cleavland and Portsmouth had the greatest share."
The WiUiamson letters, from which most of these
detaUs are taken, are extraordinarily informing as
to the domestic affairs of 1673, the head of the
Paper Office having taken good care, with the help
of his correspondents, to keep himself in touch with
Court news whUe he was absent from England.
On July 14th Ball reports that " a pleasant rediculous
story is this week blazed about, that the King had
given Nell Gwinn 20,000/., which angrying much
my Lady Cleaveland and Mademoiselle Carwell,
they made a supper at Berkshire House, whither she
being invited was, as they were drinking, suddenly
almost choaked with a napkin, of which shee was
since dead ; and this idle thing runs so hott that
Mr. PhUips askt me the truth of it, believing it,
but I assured him I saw her yester night in the Parke."
Her Grace of Cleveland, being now outwardly amic
able to Her Grace of Portsmouth, was probably
at the fete mentioned in Ball's letter of July 25th,
when " the King, Duke, and all the young Lords
and Ladyes, went up to Barn Elmes, and there in
tended to have spent the evening in a ball and supper

204 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
amongst those shades, the trees to have been en-
Uvened with torches, but the report of it brought
such a traine of spectators that they were faine to
go dance in a barne and sup upon the water ; the
treate was at the cost of MadamoseUe CaroweU." 1
From another correspondent we learn that " since
my Lady Dutchesse of Portesmouth's creation few
nights have escaped without baUes ; it faUs this night
to my Lord of Arlington's turne at Goring House,
where aU things wiU bee very splendid." The French
Ambassador entertained the King and whole Court
at Chelsea, the Duke of Monmouth at his residence,
and so on. The summer season in London this year,
in fact, was very gay and unusually prolonged, to
the detriment of the King's health. On October
loth BaU writes : " Indeed now they lett not his
sacred person alone neither, but say (and that every
body) that he has had lately 3 sad fitts of an apoplexy,
the first whereof tooke him in the Duchesse of Ports
mouth's presence, who has since begged he would
not come to her att nights. On Tuesday, they say,
he had a 3d fitt in the Privy Garden, so that many
people are much concerned and have begged His
Majesty to be adviced by his phisitians, who tell
him he must a Uttle refraine company, etc."
Soon after these alarming fits Charles was called
upon to arbitrate between the Duchess of Cleveland
and Lord Arlington, who had fallen out concerning
the upbringing of the Earl of Euston. After the
marriage of August 1672 the Lord Chamberlain
1 Yet another Anglicisation of Keroualle.

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 205
wished to have some control of his son-in-law's
education. He therefore obtained the King's per
mission to take him with him to Euston, his Suffolk
seat, of which Evelyn's Diary has an elaborate de
scription. When Henry Fitzroy was created Earl
of Euston it was understood that he was one day to
occupy the " palace " there with his bride. But
the Duchess of Cleveland absolutely refused to
put the boy under Arlington's charge. " Shee will
not part with him," says a contemporary letter,
" nor cares for any education other than what nature
and herselfe can give him, which will bee sufficient
accomplishment for a married man." The last
statement we may take to be an echo of the Duchess's
own words. Whether she gained the day or not does
not appear.
For some considerable time now the Duchess's
name is only heard of in connection with the affairs
of her children. Two of these, in spite of their
tender years, were already married. In 1674 two
more weddings took place, those of Anne, aged
thirteen, and Charlotte, aged nearly ten. The
husbands provided for them were Thomas Lennard,
fifteenth Lord Dacre, soon created Earl of Sussex,1
and Edward Henry Lee, just made Earl of Lichfield,
both of them Gentlemen of the Bedchamber to His
Majesty. An account survives of the Dacre wedding,
which took place at Hampton Court on August 2nd.
From it we learn how Dacre was brought at nine in
1 His mother was Elizabeth Bayning, a daughter of the first
Viscount and therefore a sister to Barbara's mother.

206 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
the morning to the Duchess's apartments, and found
the child-bride awaiting him there. A little after
noon the King arrived from Windsor and led the
procession from the Duchess's, through the GaUery,
to the ante-camera of his own bedchamber. Charles
walked first, holding the bride's hand ; next came the
bridegroom, next the Duke of York and the Duchess
of Cleveland, and then Prince Rupert, followed by
the ladies of the two contracting famines. The
ceremony was performed by the Bishop of Oxford,
in the presence of those already named, together
with the Duke of Monmouth, " Don Carlos "—
Charles's natural son by Catherine Peg, now Lady
Green, who died at Tangier five years later — the
Earls of Suffolk (as Barbara's uncle by marriage), Ar
lington, Danby, and the Lord Keeper Finch. The
service being over, the King kissed the bride, and
" by and by the bride-cake was broken over her head "
— a proceeding which doubtless sounds more alarming
than in reality it was. Finally there was a dinner
in the Presence Chamber, at which the King had
the bride on his right and her mother on his left.
Soon after the wedding the little Countess was
assigned rooms in Whitehall Palace, the same suite
which had once been her mother's.
There is no simUar account of Charlotte Fitzroy's
wedding with the Earl of Lichfield, and owing to her
very tender age this daughter was kept by her mother
to Uve with her for several years more. The King,
however, provided for both girls with great generosity,
giving a dowry of £20,000 with Anne and one of

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 207
£18,000 with Charlotte, and allowing their husbands
a pension of £2000 a year each. He was also called
upon to pay, ten years later, some large sums in
curred for the wedding trousseaus by the Duchess of
Cleveland. Among the Secret Services of Charles II
and James II in 1684-5 occur a number of entries, of
which the following, on July 19th, and December
1 2th, 1684, are typical :
" To Richard Bokenham, in full, for
several parcells of gold and silver
lace, bought of Wm Gostling and
partners on 2nd May 1674 by ^e
Dutchess of Cleavland, for the
wedding cloaths of the Lady Sussex
and Lichfield  646/. 8s. 6d."

a

To John Dodsworth, husband of
Katherine Dodsworth, al's Eaton,
admx of the goods and chattels of
John Eaton, unadministred, in part
of 1,082/. 8s. lod. for lace and other
things bought of the said John
Eaton, for the wedding cloaths of
the Ladys Litchfield and Sussex by
the Dutchess of Cleaveland . . 182/. os. od."
The entries prove that Charles ultimately paid at
least £1599 I^s* °d- against nearly £3000 claimed
against the Duchess by five creditors in connection with
the Dacre and Lichfield weddings. Her Grace had
as usual left her biUs unpaid.
The flow of Charles's generosity to the Duchess and
her children continued unabated by his establishment

208 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
of a new mistress or by her own flagrant indiscretions.
In October he made her a grant, in the names of her
uncles Grandison and Edward Villiers, as so often
before, of £6000 a year from the excise revenues, with
remainder to her sons ; made grants from the same
source of £3000 a year to each of these and their heirs
male ; and raised to the peerage the only untitled one
of them, the eight-year-old George, whom he created
Baron Pontefract, Viscount Falmouth, and Earl of
Northumberland. In the September of next year he
promoted Charles and Henry to the rank of Dukes,
of Southampton and Grafton respectively ; a counter
poise to his creation of the reigning mistress's son
Duke of Richmond and Lennox in August.
Barbara had therefore among her children two
Dukes, an Earl, and two Countesses, aU handsomely
provided for. Only her namesake, the infant Barbara,
reputed daughter of John Churchill, was without a
token of the Royal bounty ; and, boldly grasping as
Lady Cleveland was, perhaps even she could scarcely
demand that the King should provide for this witness
to her infidelity as a mistress.
To the Duchess's views on the proper education for
her chUdren we have already had an aUusion in connec
tion with Henry Fitzroy. Some interesting light on
her desires about her other two sons is shed by a
letter written on September 17th, 1674, by Humphrey
Prideaux, at that time tutor of Christ Church, Oxford,
and afterwards Dean of Norwich, to his friend John
EUis. EUis was credited with being a lover of the
Duchess somewhere about this time. But the worthy

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 209
Prideaux certainly shows no sign of being aware of
the fact in his letters.
" Tuesday night," writes Prideaux, " the Dutchesse
of Cleveland lodged here in town, and sent for Mr
Dean to her lodgings, whom she treated with much
civility, and desired him to take her son into his care,
whom she wiU send here next weeke, and leave the
whole disposal of him to Mr Dean, as for the appoint
ing of his tutors, lodgeing, allowance, and aU other
things whatsoever. Her third son was with her, who
beeing, she told Mr Dean, born in Oxford among the
schoUars, shall live some considerable time among
them, especiaUy since he is far more apt to receive
instructions than his elder brother, whom she con-
fesseth to be a very kockish idle boy. The morneing
before she went she sate at least an hour in her coach,
that every body might se her."
" Mr. Dean " is the celebrated Dr. John Fell, whose
death, as bishop of Oxford in 1686, Evelyn declared to
be " an extraordinary losse to the poore church at this
time." As on the occasions of her former visits, so
now Barbara does not seem to have impressed the
scholars favourably, in spite of her honeyed words.
But Mr. Dean accepted the charge of the " kockish
idle boy," Charles, Earl, and soon to be Duke, of
Southampton — a married man of the mature age of
fourteen, it should be remembered. It was arranged
that before he came into residence he should travel
abroad for a while. A tutor was selected for him in the
person of Edward Bernard, scholar of St. John's CoUege,
with whom he set out for the Continent in the f oUow-

210 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
ing spring. How little to his taste Bernard found his
job can be gathered in a letter from Prideaux to EUis
in February 1677. " My friend Mr. Bernard, who
went into France to attend upon the two bastards of
Cleveland, hath been soe affronted and abused there
by that insolent woman that he hath been forced to
quit that imployment and return."
Bernard apparently undertook the tuition of George
as weU as Charles Fitzroy. The latter came up to
Oxford in the winter term of 1675. " Harry Aldrich
is to be his tutor," writes Prideaux ; " what he wiU
get by him I know not. It is the generaU desire among
us that he come not." A year later he confirms his un
favourable expectations about the young Duke. He
" is kept very orderly, but will ever be very simple,
and scarce, I believe, ever attain to the reputation of
not beeing a fool." We shall see that Mrs. Manley,
when she met the Duke about eighteen years later,
found the Oxford tutor's prediction fulfiUed.
In making arrangements for the guardianship of her
sons, the Duchess of Cleveland had no doubt in mind
her often discussed withdrawal from England into
France. Owing partly to the fact that it was now on
Portsmouth rather than on Cleveland that the un
friendly public gaze was turned, and partly to the
comparative dearth of letters furnishing us with
intimate Court news in 1675-6, we are without pre
cise information about the exact circumstances which
led to the deposed mistress's retirement nine years
after the idea of her going was first suggested. There
is no reason for connecting her departure with the

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 211
arrival in England of another celebrated beauty at the
end of 1675, although the coincidence is remarkable
in view of the intimate association of the new-comer's
name with those of the Duchesses of Castlemaine and
Portsmouth at the end of King Charles's life. Un
doubtedly there was a plot in connection with the
introduction to Whitehall of Hortense Mancini,
Duchess of Mazarin ; but it was directed against the
reigning mistress, not against her discarded rival,
whose influence was now no longer feared except in
so far as she was still able to extract money from the
Privy Purse. Portsmouth, on the other hand, had
been able to compass the ruin of the once all-powerful
Duke of Buckingham, whose influence over the King,
his cousin had never managed to impair seriously ;
and the other leaders of the Cabal were on the look
out for a means of striking at her supremacy when an
instrument presented itself to them, which may have
looked heaven-sent, but was probably discovered by
the diabolical Ralph Montagu.
In the last month of 1675, Hortense Mancini
crossed the Channel. Cardinal Mazarin's third and
perhaps most beautiful niece was not unknown to
Charles. When she was but ten years old and he was
stiU only a king in exile he had been an unsuccessful
suitor for her hand. Now at the age of twenty-nine,
married for fifteen years to a pious husband whom she
found most uncongenial and enriched by her uncle's
will with an enormous fortune of over a milUon and a
half pounds, after wandering about Europe and in
dulging in the wildest exploits she came to England

212 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
to escape her husband's society and doubtless also
with other intentions. Being aunt to the young
Duchess of York, she was welcomed at Court, and
apartments were assigned to her at St. James's Palace.
She was soon the talk of the day. On April 25 th, 1676,
we find Charles Hatton writing to his brother : " The
Dutchesse of Portsmouth is not well : her sicknesse,
it is said, is encreased at somebody's visiting the
Dutchesse Mazarine at my Lady Harvey's house."
For the second time my Lady Harvey shows her friend
ship for " somebody " when the bounds of Whitehall
are all too narrow for the prosecution of his affairs.
In September Evelyn sups at the Lord Chamberlain's,
where he meets " the famous beauty and errant lady the
Dutchesse of Mazarine," the Duke of Monmouth, and
the Countess of Sussex. From other sources we know
that the brilliant French beauty had quite won the
heart of the thirteen-year-old Countess, to the discon
tent of her husband, who took steps to put an end to
acquaintance. A letter written by Lady Chaworth
on November 2nd of the same year, speaking of Lady
Sussex, reports : " They say her husband and she will
part unless she leave the Court and be content to live
to him in the country, he disliking her much converse
with Madam Mazarine and the addresses she gets in
that company." Lord Sussex did not at once take
her away from Whitehall, for we hear at the end of
December how " she and Madam Mazarine have
privately learnt to fence, and went downe into St.
James's Park the other day with drawne swords under
their night gownes, which they drew out and made

THE PORTSMOUTH SUPREMACY 213
several fine passes, much to the admiration of severall
men that was lookers-on in the Parke." A few weeks
later, however, the Countess is at her husband's country
seat. Here, after a brief Ulness, she recovers and,
writes Lady Chaworth, is " mightily pleased with
fox-hunting and hare-hunting, but kisses Madame
Mazarine's picture with much affection stiU."
Little more than a year later Anne was to cause her
mother most furious pangs of jealousy, which showed
that Lord Sussex's fears of the bad effects of the
addresses of the flighty young girl got in the Duchess
of Mazarin's company were not unfounded. But for
the present my Lady Cleveland was removed from
her daughter's neighbourhood. At some time in 1676
she had at last betaken herself to Paris.1 A letter
written by Lord Berkeley in Paris on April 8th of that
year mentions her as looking out for a monastery in
which to live during her stay there.
" Fair beauties of Whitehall, give way,
Hortensia does her charms display,"
wrote St. Evremond, the Duchess Mazarin's devoted
admirer, who after her death could never hear her
name mentioned without tears. The Duchess of
Cleveland, in seeming anticipation of St. Evremond's
advice (for he wrote these lines in a funeral panegyric
upon his idol in 1699), had departed from a country
where no further triumphs appeared within her power.
1 A letter from Lady Chaworth to Lord Roos, dated simply May 4,
has been assigned to this year. Lady Chaworth writes : " Lady
Cleaveland is not, they say, much satisfied in France because the
greatest ladies doe not visit her."

CHAPTER XI
THE DUCHESS IN PARIS
TX71TH her removal to Paris, the Duchess of
Cleveland entered upon what was to prove a
very stormy period in her life. By quitting England
she doubtless relieved King Charles's mind of the
apprehensions which he always had of a sudden out
burst of his former mistress's temper ; but it was not
very long before he discovered that the Channel was
powerless to quench the flames of her rage. For the
present, however, he was thankful and, as if in proof
of his gratitude, made a new grant to her of the offices
of Chief Steward of Hampton Court and Keeper of
the Chace. This sounds a very inappropriate gift,
but in those days, when offices were every day sold
with the King's permission, and had a certain market
value, it promised her a good revenue, which was
secured to her for her lifetime and after her death
to her third son, the Earl of Northumberland.
That she was in possession of ample funds, even in
spite of her extravagant ideas about the spending of
money, is shown by her handsome gift now of a
thousand pounds to the English nuns of the Convent
of the Immaculate Conception of our Blessed Lady
to help them to buUd a new chapel. This appears to
be her only recorded present for a religious purpose,
214

From a mezzotint engraving, after a painting by //. Gascar

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND,
AND HER DAUGHTER LADY BARBARA

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 215
but she was on excellent terms with the dignitaries
of the Church in France ; on too good terms, according
to the scandalous insinuation of Humphrey Prideaux.
In a letter of which we have already quoted part above,
Prideaux writes to John Ellis on February 2nd, 1677,
that the " Dutchess driveth a cunneing trade and
foUoweth her old imployment very hard there,
especially with the Arch Bishop of Paris, who is her
principal gaUant." The Archbishop in question was
Francois de Harlay de Champvalon, a man who, dis
appointed of his ambitions of becoming a Mazarin,
was declared by his critics to be better with precept
than with example where holiness of life was con
cerned. Madame de Sevigne in more than one letter
attacks Harlay's private life. There may therefore
have been some ground for Prideaux's insinuation.
As a matter of fact, as wiU be seen, the Duchess,
having rather unsuccessfully invoked his aid in a diffi
cult matter later on, in her anger gave none too good
a character of him to Charles II.
Lady Cleveland seems to have taken two of her
daughters with her to Paris. Barbara, who was still
little more than an infant, she placed with the English
nuns who have been already mentioned. As for
Charlotte, in February 1677, at the age of twelve
and a half, she was remarried to the Earl of Lichfield
and, in defiance of the traditions of her family, made
him a good wife. A favourite alike with her father
and with her uncle James, she seems to have deserved
affection. She was fortunate in being so early removed
from her mother's care.

216 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
In place of Charlotte the Duchess of Cleveland
before long had the society of Anne, the perplexed
Earl of Sussex having perhaps, in despair of managing
his young wife, handed her over to her mother's
charge. In December 1677 Lady Chaworth writes
to her brother that the Duchess has put her daughter
into a religious house, and "she means certainly to
come hither in the spring to either ajust things better
between her and her lord, or get his, consent that her
daughter may go into orders."
While awaiting the arrival of spring, the Duchess
settled down in Paris to amuse herself. This never
proved a difficult task to her. To assist her she found
the English Ambassador, Ralph Montagu, brother of
the lady with whom she had once had so violent a
quarrel. Montagu bore her no grudge for the outrage
against his sister seven years ago. Well described by
Swift as being " as arrant a knave as any in his time," he
crowned a chequered and treacherous career by being
made an Earl by WiUiam of Orange, a Duke by Anne.
His success in obtaining the Paris ambassadorship from
Charles II was somewhat of a mystery to his con
temporaries at Court, but Lord Dartmouth furnishes
an explanation. " Montagu," he says, " told Sir
WiUiam Temple he designed to go Ambassador to
France. Sir WiUiam asked him how that could be,
for he knew the King did not love him, and the Duke
[of York] hated him. ' That's true,' said he, ' but
they shaU do as if they loved me.' Which, Sir WUUam
told, he soon brought about, as he supposed by means
of the ladies, who were always his best friends for

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 217
some perfections that were hid from the rest of the
world." For aU we know, Lady Castlemaine may have been
one of the ladies who helped Montagu to his post in
Paris in 1669. Their acquaintance was now soon very
intimate, as all the world noticed and as is shown by
two short messages written by her to him and stiU
preserved. They run as follows, the original speUing
being retained : r
" friday. before I reseued yours I was in expectation
of seing you to daye, but the ocation that hinders your
comming I am extremly sorry for, being realy and
kindly consarned for you and all that relats to you.
I doe ashuer you I am as much afflicted for your garls
ilnes as if she ware my one, and shall be as unease
1 The fearful spelling seems to prove that Lord Chesterfield, as has
been suggested above, when he transcribed Barbara Villiers's youthful
love-letters in his celebrated collection, revised the orthography. For
had Barbara at fifteen spelt so well as she is made to in those letters
she could surely not have spelt quite so badly at the age of thirty-seven.
But the mere fact that she should make such gross errors is not sur
prising. The ladies of the day were truly astonishing in this respect ;
not only the English ladies, but the French also. See, for instance, a
letter from the Duchess of Portsmouth to Henry Sidney on March
8th, 1689 (quoted in Letters to Sir Joseph Williamson, II, 19). Nor
were many of the gentlemen much better. There survives a
humorous letter to Williamson by Sir Nicholas Armorer in October
1673, of which one sentence runs : "This weeke is arrived your good
frinde Mauris Justace [Maurice Eustace], to the great joye of Miss
Lockett, and I thinke off few els off our nation, that knows his late
proceedings ; for take him for what you pleasse heare, I know what
hee is on the other side of the watter ; hee has beene too coning for
himselfe, and the Dutches of Cleveland will be too hard for him." It
was a rare accomplishment to be able to spell in one's own language or
to speak another. Cominges, French Ambassador at Whitehall, never
knew a word of English.

2i 8 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
till I heare she is better ; I was yesterdaye at Paris,
but not hauing the Pleausher of seing you thar mayd
me dislik it more then euer."
" tusday. I will yeld the disscret part to you thoue
not the other for notwithstanding the but, I doe
ashuer you the ten days wiU be more griuos to me
then to you."
The affair proceeded very smoothly for some time,
during which Montagu, if what the lady says after
the quarrel is to be believed, made her the confidante
of his nefarious schemes and his contemptuous opinions
of the King and the Duke of York. Then the Duchess
aroused her lover's jealousy. The first Gentleman of
the Chamber to Louis XIV was a certain Alexis Henry,
Marquis de Chastillon or ChatiUon, who is described
to Lord Hatton by his sister as a person of quality,
young and handsome, but with no estate. This young
man was attracted by the Duchess, or she by him, and
Montagu became aware of the intrigue. It seems
probable that he gave information of it to White
haU even before he, by some means, got possession of
the compromising letters from the lady of which we
shall hear below. Now in the spring of 1678 the
Duchess paid her intended visit to England, leav
ing her daughter Anne in a nunnery at Con-
flans, where also was the country-seat of the Arch
bishop, near, but outside the waUs of, Paris. She
parted on friendly terms with Montagu, not being
aware yet of his betrayal of her intrigue with ChatiUon;
whUe he, on his part, was supremely unconscious of
the pit he was digging for himself. This is evident

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 219
from a letter which he wrote from Paris, some time
in May, to one of his very numerous cousins, Henry
Sidney, afterwards Earl of Romney. " I am glad to
hear my Lady Cleveland looked so well," said Montagu.
" I do not wonder at it. I will always lay on her side
against everybody. I am a little scandalised you have
been but once to see her — pray make your court oftener
for my sake, for no man can be more obliged to another
than I am to her on all occasions, and tell her I say
so, and, as my Lord Berkeley says, give her a pat
from me. If you keep your word to come in June, I
fancy you will come together, and I shaU not be ill
pleased to see the two people in the world of both
sexes I love and esteem the most."
Who could have been more unsuspicious of ruin
than the Ambassador at this moment ? His eyes were
very soon opened. The Duchess returned to Paris
earlier than she was expected, indeed before the end
of May, but with no " pat " for Montagu. On the
contrary, she dealt him the hardest blow he had ever
received. In a letter dated July 17th, 1678, Mary
Hatton, who was living in a nunnery in Paris, wrote to
her brother :
" What I have to acquaint you withaU of Paris news
is our cosin Montagues being gon last Monday post
towards Ingland, opon my Lord Sunderland's being
sent hither ambassador, which bussness they say my
Lady Cleavland has intrigued, out of revenge to the
ambass. for being soe jealous of her for one Chevalier
ChatiUon as to wright it wheire he thought it might
doe her most prejudice, which she being advertised of,

220 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
and attributing to it the cold reception she found when
she was laitly in Ingland, has, as they say, acussed him
of not being f aithfull to his master in the imployment
he gave him here ; to which there is another par
ticular that dus much agravate her, and that is that,
whillest she was in Ingland, the ambas. was every day
with her daughter Sussex, which has ocationed such
jealousy of aU sides that, for the saffty of my Lady
Sussex, it is reported the ambass. advised her to a
nunnery, and made choice of Belle Chase for her,
where she is at present and wiU not see her mother."
Another letter to Lord Hatton, from his brother
Charles, shows that Montagu had reached London
before July nth to vindicate himself against accusa
tions brought against him by the Duchesses of Ports
mouth and Cleveland, from which it looks as if Her
Grace of Cleveland in her fury condescended to make
common cause with her supplanter. But we will now
let Barbara speak for herself.
Two extremely long letters addressed by her to
Charles after her return to Paris have survived the
destruction of time and are preserved, the first among
the Harleian MSS., the second among the British
Museum Additional MSS. Both are so extraordinary
and give so vivid a picture of the writer's mind that
it seems impossible to mutilate or paraphrase them.
With a hope, therefore, that the reader will display
sufficient patience to digest them as they stand, we
give them in their entirety. It may assuredly be said
that there is not their like in the correspondence of
kings.

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 221
The first, which is dated " Paris, Tuesday 28 78,"
i.e. May 28th, 1678, must have been sent off almost im
mediately after the Duchess's arrival, as soon as she
discovered Montagu's capture of her letters to Chatil-
lon (at least one of which was obviously written by her
when on her visit to England), and runs as follows :
" I was never so surprized in my hoUe life-time, as
I was at my comming hither, to find my Lady Sussex
gone from my house & monestrey where I left her,
and this letter from her, which I here send you the
copy of. I never in my hoUe lifetime heard of suche
government of herself as She has had, since I went
into England. She has never been in the monestrey
two daies together, but every day gone out with the
embassador ; and has often layen four daies together
at my house, & sent for her meat to the Embassador,
he being allwaies with her tiU five a' clock in ye morn
ing, they two shut up together alone, and wa not let
my maistre d'hostel wait, nor any of my servants,
onely the Embassadors. This has made so great a noise
at Paris, that she is now the holle discours. I am so
much afflicted that I can hardly write this for crying,
to see that a child that I doated on as I did on her,
sha make so iU a return, & join with the worst of men
to ruin me. For sure never any malice was like the
Embassador's, that onely because I wd not answer to
his Love, & the importunities he made to me, was
resolv'd to ruin me. I hope yr majesty will yet have
that justice & consideration for me, that tho I have
done a foolish action, you will not let me be ruined
by ys most abominable man. I do confess to you
that I did write a foolish letter to the Chevalier de
ChatUion, wch letter I sent enclosed to Madam de

222 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Pallas, and sent hers in a Packet I sent to Lady Sussex
by Sir Henry Tychborn ; wch letter she has either
given to ye embassador, or else he had it by his man,
to whom Sir Harry Tychborn gave it to, not finding
my Lady Sussex. But as yet I doe not know wch of the
waies he had it, but I shall know as I have spoke wth
Sir Harry Tychborn. But the letter he has, and I
doubt not but that he either has or will send it to
you. Now aU I have to say for myself is, that you
know, as to love, one is not mistriss of one's self, &
that you ought not to be offended wth me, since aU
things of ys nature is at an end wth you and I ; so that
I could do you no prejudice. Nor wiU you, I hope,
follow the advice of ys iU man, who in his hart, I know,
hates you, & were it for his interest wd ruine you too
if he could. For he has neither conscience nor honour,
and has several times told me, that in his hart he
despised you and yr Brother ; and that for his part,
he wished wth all his hart that the Parliament wa send
you both to traveU, for you were a duU governable
Fool, and the Duke a willfuU Fool. So that it was yet
better to have you than him, but that you allwaies
chose a greater beast than yrself to govern you. And
wn I was come over, he brought me two letters to
bring to you, wcn he read both to me before he seal'd
them. The one was a man's, that he sayd you had
great faith in, for that he had several times foretold
things to you that were of consequence, and that you
beUeved him in all things, Uke a changeling as you
were. And that now he had writ you word, that in a
few months the King of France, or his son, were
threatned wth death, or at least a great fit of sickness,
in woh they wd be in great danger, if they did not dye ;
and that therefore he counsell'd you to defer any

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 223
resolutions of war or peace till some months were
past ; for that, if this happen'd, it wd make a great
change in France. The Embassador, after he had
read this to me, sayd, ' Now the good of this is,' says
he, ' that I can do w* I wiU wth this man ; for he is
poor, & a good summe of money will make him write
wlever I will.' So he proposed to me that he & I
should join together in the ruining my Ld Treasurer
and the Dutchess of Portsmouth, which might be done
thus. The man, tho he was infirm and ill, shd go
into England, and there, after having been a little
time, to sollicite you for money ; for that you were
so base, that tho you employd him, you let him
starve. So that he was obliged to give him 50 11., &
that the man had writ several times to you for money.
O, says he, wn he is in England, he shaU tell the
King things that he foresees will infaUibly ruin him ;
& so wish those to be removed, as having an ill star,
that wd be unfortunate to you if they were not
removed : but if that were done, he was confident
you would have the gloriousest reign that ever was.
This, says he, I am sure I can order so, as to bring to
a good effect, if you will. And in the mean time,
I wiU try to get Secretary Coventry's Place, wch he
had a mind to part with, but not to Sir WiUm Temple,
because he is the Treasurer's creature, and he hates
the Treasurer ; and I have already employ'd my sister
to talk wth Mr Cook, and to send him to engage Mr
Coventry not to part with it as yet, and he has assured
my Lady Harvey he will not. And my Ld Treasurer's
lady and Mr Bertie are both of them desirous I shd
have it. And wn I have it, I wiU be damn'd if I do
not quickly get to be Lord Treasurer ; and then you
& yr children shall find such a friend as never was.

224 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
And for the King, I will find a way to furnish him so
easily with money for his pocket & his wenches, that
we will quickly out Bab. May, & lead the King by the
nose.' So when I had heard him out, I told him I
thank'd him, but that I wd not meddle in any such
thing ; and that, for my part, I had no malice to my
Lady Portsmouth, or the Treasurer, and therefore I
would never be in any Plot to destroy them, but that
I found the character the world gave of him was true ;
which was, that the DevU was not more.designing than
he was. And that I wonder'd at it ; for that sure all
these things working in his brains must make him
very uneasy, and wd at last make him mad. 'Tis
possible you may think I say all this out of malice.
'Tis true he has urged me beyond aU patience ; but
what I tell you here is most true ; & I wiU take the
Sacrament of it when ever you please. 'Tis certain I
would not have been so base as to have informed
against him for what he sayd before me, had he not
provoked me to it in this violent way that he has.
There is no iU thing that he has not done me, and
that without any provocation of mine, but that I
would not love him. Now, as to what relates to my
Daughter Sussex, & her behaviour to me, I must con
fess that afflicts me beyond expression, & will do much
more, if what she has done be by your orders. For
tho I have an intire submission to your will, and will
not complain whatever you inflict upon me, yet I
cannot think you would have brought things to this
extremity with me, & not have it in your nature ever
to do no cruel things to any thing living. I hope
therefore you will not begin with me ; and if the
Embassador has not recd his orders from you, that
you wiU severely reprehend him for this inhumane

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 225
proceeding. Besides, he has done what you ought to
be very angry with him for ; for he has been with the
King of France, & told him that he had intercepted
Letters of mine by your order, who had been informed
that there was a kindness between me and the Chevalier
de Chatilion, & therefore you bid him take a course in
it, & stop my Letters ; which accordingly he has done.
And that upon this you order'd him to take my
children from me, & to remove my Lady Sussex to
another monastery. And that you were resolved to
stop aU my Pensions, & never have any regard to me
in any thing. And that if he wd oblige your Majesty,
he shd forbid the Chevalier de ChatiUon ever seeing
me, upon the displeasure of losing his Place, & being
forbid the Court ; for that he was sure you expected
this from him. Upon which the King told him that
he could not do anything of this nature, for that
this was a private matter, & not for him to take notice
of. And that he could not imagine that you ought to
be so angry, or indeed be at all concerned ; for that
aU the World knew, that now aU things of GaUantry
were at an end with you and I ; that being so, & so
pubUck, he did not see why you shd be offended at my
Loveing any body. That it was a thing so common
nowadays to have a GaUantry, that he did not wonder
at any thing of this nature. And when he saw the
King take the thing thus, he told him that if he wd not
be severe to the Chevalier de ChatiUon upon your
account, he supposed he would be so upon his own, for
that in the letters he had discoverd, he found that the
ChevaUer had proposed to me the engageing of you in
the mariage of the Dauphin and MadamoseUe,1 and
1 Marie-Louise, daughter of the Duke of Orleans, and therefore
niece to Charles II.

226 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
that was my greatest busyness in England. That
before I went over, I had spoke to him of the thing &
would have ingaged him in it ; but that he refused it,
for that he knew very weU the indifference you had
whether it were or no, & how little you cared how
MadamemoseUe was married. That since I went into
England 'twas possible I might engage somebody or
other in this matter to press it to you, but that he
knew very well, that in your hart you cared not whether
it was or no, that this busyness setting on foot by the
Chevalier. Upon which the King told him, that if he
wd shew him any Letters of the Chevalier de ChatiUon
to that purpose, he shd then know what he had to say
to him ; but that till he saw those Letters, he wd not
punish him without a proof for what he did. Upon
which the Embassador shewd a letter, which he pre
tended one part of it was a Double Entendre. The King
said he cd not see that there was any thing relating to
it, & so left him, & said to a Person that was there,
' Sure the Embassador was the worst man that ever
was, for because my Lady Cleveland will not love
him, he strives to ruine her the basest in the world,
and would have me sacrifice the Chevalier de ChatiUon
to his revenge, which I shaU not do till I see better
proofs of his having medled with the marriage of the
Dauphin and MadamoseUe than any yet that the
Embassador has shewed me.' This, methinks, is what
you cannot but be offended at, and I hope you will
be offended with him for his whole proceeding to
me, & let the world see that you will never counte
nance the actions of so base & UI a man. I had forgot
to tell you, that he told the King of France, that
many people had reported that he made love to me,
but that there was nothing of it, for he had too much

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 227
respect for you to think of any such thing. As for
my Lady Sussex, I hope you will think fit to send for
her over, for she is now mightily discours'd of for the
Embassador. If you will not believe me in this, make
inquiry into the thing, & you will finde it to be true.
I have desired Mr Kemble to give you this letter, &
to discourse with you more at large upon this matter,
to know your resolution, & whether I may expect that
justice & Goodness from you which aU the world does.
I promise you, that for my conduct it shall be such,
as that you nor nobody shaU have occasion to blame
me ; and I hope you wiU be just to what you said to
me, which was at my House, when you told me you
had letters of mine ; you said, ' Madam, all that I
ask of you, for your own sake, is, live so for the future
as to make the least noise you can, & I care not who
you love.' Oh ! this noise that is, had never been,
had it not been for the Embassador's malice. I cannot
forbear once again saying, I hope you will not gratify
his malice in my ruine."
Before we give the second letter, it is advisable
to explain the aUusion in the first to the man whom
Charles " had great faith in." According to Burnet,
" the King had ordered Montagu ... to find out
an astrologer, of whom it was no wonder he had
a good opinion, for he had long before his restoration
foretold that he should enter London on the 29th of
May, 1660. He was yet ahve, and Montagu found him
out, and saw that he was capable of being corrupted,
so he resolved to prompt him to send the King
such hints as could serve his own ends ; and he was
so bewitched with the Duchess of Cleveland that
he trusted her with this secret. She, growing jealous

228 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
of a new amour, took all the ways she could to ruin
him, reserving this of the astrologer for her last
shift; and by it she compassed her ends. For Mon
tagu was entirely lost upon it with the King, and
came over without being recalled."
Certainly the letter of May 28th was well calculated
to inflame the mind of Charles II against a man
whom already he did not love, when he heard him
self described by him as " a changeling " (!) and
" a dull governable fool," who always chose a greater
fool than himself to govern him. How satisfactory
to the wrathful Duchess was his reply to her demands
can be gathered from her second letter, dated " Paris,
friday 3 a clocke in the afternoun " :
" I reseued your Maty letter last night with more
joy then I can expres, for this prosiding of yours is
so jenoros and obliging that I must be the werst
wooman alive ware I not sensible ; no Sr my hart and
soule is toucht with this genoriste of yours and
you shaU allways find that my conduct to the world
and behavior to your childeren shall allways render
me worthy of your protecktion and favor, this pray
be confydent of ; I did this morning send your
letter to my Lady Sussex by my Jentleman of the
hors who when he cam to the grat asket for her :
her wooman cam and told him her lady was aslep :
he sayd he would stay till she was awake, for that he
had a letter to give into her owne hands from the
King and that he would not deliver it but to her
self : her wooman went into her and stayd above
half an hower, which I beleve was whilest she sent
to the Embasodor, for he cam in as Lachosse was thar :

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 229
her wooman cam owet and sayd that her lady had
binne ill to days and had conultion fits and knue
nobody : upon which Lachosse said that since she
was in that condition he would carry backe the
letter to me : the wooman ansard that if he would
leave the letter with her she would give it her lady
when she came to her self but that nowe she knue
nobody and caUd aU that ware abowet her my Lord
Embasodor and my Lady, and spocke of nothing
but them ; as soone as I heard this I sent to the Arch
Bishop of Paris to let him knowe that haveng sent
to Bellchas to specke with my daughtar and to send
her a letter of consaren from the King I heard that
she was extrem iU and could not com to the Parloyer,
wherefor I desiered he would send to the Abbes to
let one of my weemen goe in to speck with her :
he immedietly writ, on which I sent Pigon 1 with :
when she went to the Abbesse she sayd that my Lady
Sussex was not so ill as that thar was a nesesety of
opening the dores of the monestry, and that if she
would com at seven a clocke at night my Lady Sussex
would be at the Parloyer, but that nowe she could
not com becaus she had binne just let blood, and
that for comming in she would not permit her :
uppon this I sent agan to the Archbishop and sent
your letter to him, which I mad to be put into french
that he might se why I prest him so earnestly, and
desierd him to send a more positive command to
the Abbes : he read the letter and sayd he was very
much surprisd but he would send a Prist along with
my wooman and him to specke to the Abbess, but
that Prist should goe in his coach : aU this was to
1 Mrs. Pigeon (?), evidently a successor to " her fine woman
Willson " of whom Pepys tells us.

230 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
gane time that he might send as I beleve to my
Lady Sussex whoe he visits very often : and this
monestry whar she is is cald the Bishops monestry
and has none of the best reputations ; when Pigion
cam to the monestry the Prist talket with the Abbess
abowet half an hower and then cam to her and told
her that my Lady Sussex was at the Parloyer : she
went thar and found my Lady Sussex siting thar with
the Embasodor : she gave her the leter : the Embasodor
turnd to her and told her, ' Mes Pigion, the King,
has som of your letters.' She made him a cursy and
sayd, ' has he, my Lord, I am very glad of it.' My
Lady Sussex sayd, ' Mes Pigion, if the King knue the
reasons I have for what I have don he would be more
angre with my lady then with me, for that I can
justyfy to the King and the world why I have don
this, and though I have conseald it all this whill
owet of respect to my Lady, I will satisfy the King,
and I dowet not but he wUl turne his angre from
me to my Lady.' Pigion told her, ' these ware thinges
she did not enter into and that she had only orderes
from me to aske her for the letter when she had read
it that I might sattisfy pepell that it was not by the
Kinges order she was thar.' She sayd ' noe, she would
not give the leter backe ' : uppon which the Embasodor
stood up and sayd, ' my Lady Sussex, doe not give
the letter backe ' : ' No, my Lord,' says she, ' I doe
not intend it ' : with that the Embasodor rise up
and sayd, ' Mes Pigion, doe you knowe whoe my
Lady Sussex is that you should dare to dissput withe
her the delivering the leter.' She sayd, ' my Lord, I
hop I have don nothing unbecomming the respect
I aught to pay my Lady Sussex.' ' Yes,' says he,
' you se she is not well and you argue with her.'

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 231
' My Lord,' says she, ' I only aske her for the leter
again as my Lady commanded me.' ' The King,'
says he, ' has Letters both of yours and your ladys.'
' My Lord,' says she, ' what letters I have writ I doe
not at all aprehend the Kinges seing, and for my
Lady she is very well inforamd of aU that is past.'
"" Mes Pigion,' says he, ' my Lady Sussex being the
Kinges daughter it was not fit for her to live with
my Lady Duchess whoe lead so infamos a life, and
therfor she removed, and if annybody askes whoe
counseld her to it you may tell them it was I.' ' 'Tis
anof, my Lord,' says Pigion, and so mad a curse and
cam awaye ; this I thought fite to give you an acount
of with all sped that you may se howe this ill man
sekes to ruen her : he made her goe to court with my
Lady Embasodris, and she was at the hoteU de ville
of S* Jhons day at the fyer and the super, and has
mayd a great manny fyn clothes and tacken thre
weemen to wayet one her, of the Embasodors pre-
fering, and a swise to stand at her Parloyer dore,
and thar is furneture a making for her apartment
and she is tacking more footmen, for as yeat she has
but one ; I dowet not but that the Embasodor will
invent a thousan lyes for her and himself to writ to
you of me : but beleve me uppon my word if thay teU
truth thay can have nothing to say of my conduckt,
for I have both before I went into England and
since I cam back Uved with that resarvednes and
honnor that had you your self market me owet a
life I am sure you would have orderd it so : and had
it not binne for that sely Leter his malis could not
have had a pretentian to have blasted me, and thous
leters can never be knowen but by him and my Lady
Sussex : pray if your Maty has them send them to me

232 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
that I may se if thay ar aU and the originales : if
not I bege of you to oblige them to deliver them to
you, for I knowe not what ill use thay may make of
them ore wether the Embasodores malis may not
forge letters I never writ : if you wiU let me se thous
you have I will aquant you wether ore noe thay be
all ; you ar pleasd to command my Lady Sussex to
stay in the monesstery at Conflans : I bege of your
Maty not to command her that for it must be very
uneasy to her and me to, ever to Uve together aftar
such a prosiding as she has had to me, and though
I am so good a Christen as to forgive her, yeat I
cannot so fare conquer my self as to se her dayly,
though your Maty may be confydent that as she is
yours I shaU allways have som remans of that kindnes
I had formerly, for I can hate nothing that is yours ;
but that which I would propos to you is that you
would writ a letter in french which may be showed
to the Arch Bishop of Paris, in which you desier
she may be put into the Monestry of Portroyall at
Paris, and that she maye have to nuns given her to
wayet on her, and that she cares no sarvants with
her, that she stires not owet nor reseaves no visits
what so ever withowet a leter from me to the Abbes :
for whar she is now all pepeU visits her and the
Embasodor and others careys consorts of museke
every day to entertan her : so that the hoUe disscores
of this place is nothing but of her, and she must be
ruend if you doe not tacke som spedy cores with her :
this PortroyaU that I propos to you is in great repu
tation for the piete and regularety of it, so that I
thinke it much the best place for her : and for Conflans
ware it not for the reasons I have given you before
that place would not be proper for her, for she has

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 233
by great presents that she has mad the Abbess gand her
to say what she will : for when I cam over she would
have conseald from me my Lady Sussex frequent
goeng owet of the monestry, but that it was so puphke
she could not doe it long : and when she sawe that
she sayd that my Lady Sussex told her she went
owet for afares of min that I had orderd her to doe
in my absance : this being, Conflans is of all places
the most unfit for her and would be the most un-
easse to me : therfor I doe most humbly bege of your
Maty not to command her that place."
It is in this letter that the Duchess of Cleveland,
as has already been pointed out, speaks of her daughter
Anne as if there were no possible doubt of the King
being her father. We do not know whether Charles
now yielded to the mother's demand that she should
be sent to Port Royal instead of Conflans, or whether
she was brought back to England now, in spite of her
" conultion fits." But already attempts had been
made to persuade Lord Sussex to receive her again,
and sooner or later she rejoined him. Although she
bore him an acknowledged daughter before the end
of Charles's reign, her reputation continued to be
evil, as might have been expected from so bad a
beginning. She separated from the Earl again,
and after the abdication of James II went to live
at Saint Germain; In 1703 her mother is found
writing to Sir Thomas Dyke (one of the trustees of
the Sussex marriage settlement), expressing concern
for the position of her "daughter Sussex and her
childerne," threatened with ruin by Lord Sussex's

234 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
extravagance. In 171 5 His Lordship died. In 171 8
his widow found in Lord Teynham another man bold
enough to marry her. He shot himself, however, five
years later at his house in the Haymarket in a fit of
madness, whereon the widow married a third time.
Losing this husband, the Hon. Robert Moore, less than
three years after the wedding, Anne resigned herself
to her fate, and lived another twenty-seven years
without a spouse, dying finally in 1755.
Whoever was her father, Anne certainly proved
her descent from her mother, as was recognised
readily by the Ubellous verse-writers of the day,
who coupled their names together in unpleasing
doggerel. As for the wicked ambassador, his career as a
diplomatist was at an end as long as Charles remained
on the throne. He left Paris without waiting to be
recalled. On reaching England he found himself no
longer of the Privy Council, and denied even a hearing
by the King. Until Charles's death he remained
a man whose acquaintance was dangerous to the
reputation of a courtier. James II unwisely ad
mitted him to favour, and in return found him one
of the first to desert to William of Orange.
Victory in the Montagu affair undoubtedly re
mained with the Duchess of Cleveland, but she
had not won it without a loss on her side. Charles
found it hard to forgive her disregard of his in
junction that she should " live so as to make the least
noise she could," and his generosity which she so
fulsomely acknowledged did not extend so far as to

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 235
aUow her to return to England until another fourteen
months had elapsed.
Moreover, there was another reason against her
return. Lord Castlemaine had come back to England
in the summer of 1677, and had taken up his residence
in London again. We last saw him, after his mission
in the company of Sir Daniel Harvey to Turkey,
travelling on his own account. Now some affairs
connected with his property brought him back,
and he found no longer any reason of honour why he
should not stay.
If she remained in France, however, the Duchess
of Cleveland retained her interest in her sons' affairs
at home. In the Savile Correspondence there is a
letter written by Henry SaviUe in Paris to his elder
brother on September 21st, 1678, which certainly
must refer to the Duchess of Cleveland. " As for
the question you ask," says SavUe, " concerning
Her Grace and her son's pretensions to my Lady
B. P., that is a matter she has had very long in her
wishes, but has fail'd in all the attempts of carrying
it further, and is at last tired with the King's non
chalance in the prosecution, which could hope for
success from nothing but his vigour in it. However,
the young lord stays this winter in England, to be at
least in the way, and if any method can be found
to set the business on foot, I wiU take upon me the
part of minding the King to be a little more vigorous
now it is near than he was when it was at a further
distance, which possibly was the occasion of his taking
so little care in it."

236 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
" My Lady B. P." is without a doubt Lady Elizabeth
(Betty) Percy, only daughter and heiress of the last
Earl of the old Northumberland line, Joceline Percy.
Some have identified the son of Her Grace here
referred to with Charles, Duke of Southampton ;
but the evidence is in favour of George Fitzroy, or
even of Henry. George was the first of the
new Northumberland line, and was still unmarried.
Charles had been married for seven years, and, im
perious as was the Duchess of Cleveland, she could
scarcely have hoped to undo now that marriage which
she had forced on with such violence in 1671.
Henry Fitzroy, too, was a more likely candidate than
Charles, for we do know that the Duchess endeavoured
to upset the half-completed contract with the daughter
of the Arlingtons. Indeed Lady Chaworth writes
positively to Lord Roos on December 18th, 1677, that
the Duchess of Cleveland " designes to get the King
to break her son the Duke of Grafton's marriage to
Lord ArUngton's daughter, and then hopes to make a
match between him and Lady Percy, and her son
Northumberland and M'5 Anne Mountagu, which
double marriage they say Lady Northumberland and
her husband aproove." Perhaps the match-making
Duchess offered the choice of her sons Henry and
George. Betty Percy's guardians, of whom the chief was her
grandmother, decided, however, in favour of Henry
Cavendish, Earl of Ogle, son of the Duke of New
castle, to whom they married her in 1679. Ogle
died in a year, and Betty was next contracted (or

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 237
sold, as people said) by her grandmother to the
extremely wealthy commoner, Thomas Thynne, friend
of the Duke of Monmouth and once suitor for Anne
Fitzroy's hand, it seems. Although she now ex
pressed her disapproval of George Fitzroy on account
of his parentage, the young lady was far from having
a Uking for Thynne, and she fled in aversion immedi
ately after the private celebration of her wedding.
To anticipate events, on February 12th, 1682, Thynne
was brutaUy murdered in PaU Mall by Count John
von Konigsmark, brother of the hapless Sophia
Dorothea's lover, and two accomplices, leaving Eliza
beth at the age of fifteen again a widow. As we shall
see, the Duchess of Cleveland once more tried to
secure her hand for her son — and once more failed.
If she had been absent from England at the
remarriage of her daughter Charlotte to the Earl
of Lichfield in 1677, the same was not the case at
the remarriage of her son Henry, Duke of Grafton,
to IsabeUa Bennet in November 1679. ¦"•n ^act>
the Duchess was back in London four months pre
viously, for Narcissus Luttrell, whose quaint diary
of events from this time onwards helps us with
occasional references to Barbara, has the foUowing
entry under July of that year : " The latter end
of this month the Dutchesse of Cleaveland arrived
here from France. About this time Mrs. Gwyn,
mother to Madam EUen Gwyn, being in drink,
was drowned in a ditch near Westminster." x
1 The date of the Duchess's return is also approximately fixed by
an amusing letter written on July 31st by Edward Pyckering to Lord

238 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
The Duchess of Cleveland had attempted to break
off the aUiance with the Arlingtons, but, finding
herself unable to do so, figured among the principal
guests at the wedding on the evening of November
6th, 1679. Evelyn, who was present, has the following
account :
" The ceremonie was performed in my Lord
Chamberlaines (her fathers) lodgings at Whitehall
by the Bishop of Rochester, His Majesty being
present. A sudden and unexpected thing, when
every body believ'd the first marriage would have
come to nothing ; but the measure being determin'd
I was privately invited by my Lady, her mother,
to be present. I confesse I could give her little joy,
and so I plainely told her, but she said the . King
would have it so, and there was no going back. This
sweetest, hopefuUest, most beautifull child, and
most vertuous too, was sacrific'd to a boy that had
been rudely bred, without any thing to encourage
them but His Majesty's pleasure. I pray God
the sweete child find it to her advantage, who, if
my augury deceive me not, wiU in a few years be
such a paragon as were fit to make the wife of the
greatest Prince in Europe. I staied supper, where
His Majesty sate betweene the Dutchesse of Cleave
land (the mother of the Duke of Grafton) and the
sweete Dutchesse the bride ; there were several
Montagu. " The Duchess of Cleveland is lately come over," he says,
"and will shortly to Windsor, if not there already. His Majesty
gave the Commissioners of the Treasury fair warning to look to them
selves, for that she would have a bout with them for money, having
lately lost ^zo,ooo in money and jewels in one night at play."
Charles had not lost his dread of the harpy's claws !

THE DUCHESS IN PARIS 239
greate persons and ladies, without pomp. My love
to my Lord Arlington's famUy and the sweete child
made me behold all this with regret, tho' as the
Duke of Grafton affects the sea, to which I find his
father intends to use him, he may emerge a plaine,
usefuU, and robust officer, and were he polish'd,
a tolerable person, for he is exceeding handsome,
by far surpassing any of the King's other natural
issue." To signaUse the return of the ex-mistress to England
there appeared, in the very month of the Grafton
wedding, a virulent libel upon her and the Duchess
of Portsmouth, forming part of an effusion entitled
An Essay on Satire. Nine lines of this were as
follows :
" Yet sauntering Charles, between his beastly brace,
Meets with dissembling still in either place,
Affected humour, or a painted face.
In loyal libels we have often told him
How one has jilted him, the other sold him ;
How that affects to laugh, how this to weep,
But who can rail so long as he can sleep ?
Was ever Prince by two at once misled,
False, foolish, old, ill-natured, and ill-bred ? "
The authorship of these uncomplimentary verses
was attributed to the Earl of Mulgrave and John
Dryden in coUaboration. The King took in good
part the censure administered to him, and only
expressed his amusement. Certainly he had been
very lightly treated in comparison with the ladies.
In the lines —
" How that affects to laugh, how this to weep,
But who can rail so long as he can sleep ? "

240 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
the laugher and railer is Cleveland, the weeper
Portsmouth, whose most effective argument was said
always to be tears. Yet, strange to say, on this oc
casion, it was the weeping lady who was the one
to take action. We hear of no move on the part of
the Duchess of Cleveland, but the ruling mistress
hired a gang to waylay and beat Dryden for his
insolence. Perhaps the authors of this libel were inspired
to be so bold by the recent more than usual kindness
of the King toward his wife. For in the summer of
this year the Countess of Sunderland had written
to Henry Sidney that the Queen " is now a mistress,
the passion her spouse has for her is so great."
Charles, however, had no intention of reforming.
My Lady Portsmouth continued her sway, and
the Duchess of Mazarin and Madam Gwynn, the
latter recently bereaved in the painful way described
by Luttrell, ' had their shares in his affections stiU.
If the Queen had no reason for hope, neither had
the Duchess of Cleveland. She returned to Paris,
though the date of her departure is unknown, beyond
that it was probably before December 4th, when
Cleveland House is known to have been occupied by
some one else.

CHAPTER XII
THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II
APART from the uselessness of attempting to
reconquer Charles's heart, even if she wanted
to, the Duchess of Cleveland could not have found
England a very pleasant place to Uve in at the end
of.. 1679. Since she had first withdrawn to Paris
the " No Popery " cry had enormously swoUen
in volume. Demonstrations of hatred for the Pope
were common occurrences throughout the country.
No doubt Lady Cleveland could have witnessed one
on the eve of her son's wedding had she visited the
City that day. Such pretty scenes as are described
by Charles Hatton to his brother were not confined
to one year. Hatton writes, in November 1677, of
" mighty bonfires and the burning of a most costly
pope, caryed by four persons in divers habits, and
the effigies of two diveUs whispering in his eares,
his belly filled full of live catts who squawled most
hideously as soone as they felt the fire ; the common
saying aU the while, it was the language of the Pope
and the Divel in a dialogue betwixt them."
But the violence of feeling against the Roman
CathoUcs was not confined in its expression to such
ghastly fooleries as this. The hideous Titus Oates
r 241

242 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
and his aUies had now invented what Luttrell caUs,
and probably quite honestly believed to be, " a
heUish conspiracy contrived and carried on by the
papists," of which the chief object was to murder
the King — himself a Roman Catholic, little as Oates
and company suspected it ! Although the worst
days of the persecution were stiU to come, it was
already very unsafe to be known as a Papist. One
of the early sufferers was Lord Castlemaine, who
had been committed to the Tower in the autumn
of 1678, and, after being released, was put back
again at the very time of his former wife's presence
in England, Dangerfield having in October sworn
that Lords Arundel of Wardour and Powis had
offered him £3000 to kiU the King and that Lord
Castlemaine had blamed him for not accepting
the money for so glorious a work. Lord Powis,
who was Castlemaine's first cousin, being the son
of the first Lord's son, as Castlemaine was son of
his daughter, had gone to the Tower in 1678, to
spend most of his time there since. His wife, before
marriage Lady Elizabeth Somerset, daughter of the
Marquis of Worcester, was sent thither, too, in the
autumn of 1679, three months after Samuel Pepys.
It was impossible to prove Popish sympathies
against Pepys, as all readers of his Diary wiU under
stand. But the Powises and Castlemaine were well-
known Roman Catholics, and had great difficulty
in rebutting the charges of conspiracy against the
King's Ufe, supported by some swearing as hard as
has ever been heard in a court of law. In the case

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 243
of Castlemaine it was the infamy of the witness
Dangerfield's character which served him best and
led to his acquittal in June 1680.
Had the Duchess of Cleveland remained in the
country she might also (unless her very lack of repu
tation would have saved her) have been the object
of persecution Uke her former husband and so many
other highly placed Roman CathoUcs. Even the
mistress en titre could not entirely escape. Attacks
on her in Parliament in April 1679 were repeated
at the end of the year, and an attempt was made to
compel the King to exUe her from Court. Indeed,
she was so alarmed that she herself was for a time
anxious to leave England. The ex-mistress escaped
such terrors and, safe in France, witnessed similar
tyrannical oppression there of the Protestants.
For nearly two years now we lose sight of the
Duchess, but in the middle of September 1681 she
was expected on another visit to England, LuttreU
recording that her house was at that time preparing
for her reception. During her last absence in Paris
it would appear that she had let Cleveland House,
for Evelyn records dining with Lords Ossory and
Chesterfield " at the Portugal Ambassador's, now
newly come, at Cleaveland House." Of the reason
for this visit in 1681, if it was actuaUy paid, we are
not told, but it may possibly have been in connection
with an honour about to be bestowed upon the Duke
of Grafton, who was in high favour with the King.
On December 30th at a review in Hyde Park of the
Household Troops the Duke was publicly presented

244 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
by His Majesty with a commission as Colonel of the
Foot Guards.
Perhaps, however, the contemplated visit did
not actually come about until the spring of the
next year, when we know Her Grace came over. A
libeUous poem entitled A Dialogue between the D.
of C. and the D. of P. at their meeting in Paris with the
Ghost of Jane Shore seems to show that she was in
the French capital in March, if it is based on the
actual simultaneous presence there of the two
Duchesses. Lady Portsmouth left WhitehaU with
her little son on March 4th, 1682, on her way to
Paris, whence she went to the waters of Bourbonne
for the benefit of her health. And on AprU 20th
Viscountess Campden writes to her daughter the
Countess of Rutland : " Lady Cleaveland is come over.
Yesterday I heard the King had not yet given her a
visit, and to-day I hear has visited her five times a
day." On reaching England the Duchess of Cleveland
took up again her scheme for the marriage of her
youngest son George, Earl of Northumberland,
to the heiress of the Percies. The wealthy little
beauty EUzabeth had been made a widow for the
second time by Thynne's murder in February, and
two of her former suitors had lost no time before
presenting themselves again, the Duke of Somerset
and the Earl of Northumberland. The Duke was
much the older of the two, being thirty as against
his rival's seventeen. The son of the King had no
doubt a Dukedom like his brothers' in sight ; but

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 245
Charles Seymour was sixth Duke of his line by legiti
mate inheritance. Elizabeth had already expressed
her prejudice against " a bastard " and had been
confirmed in it by her grandmother, quoting passages
of Scripture to reinforce the argument. So the
marriage with Somerset was quickly arranged and
on May 30th, 1682, Elizabeth took the Duke as
her third husband in the course of three years.
To console the slighted Earl of Northumberland
the King made him a Duke within a year's time
(April 6th, 1683) and a Knight of the Garter nine
months later.
From the time of her arrival in England with
the Duke of Grafton in April 1682 untU just before
the death of Charles II, the history of the Duchess
of Cleveland is extremely vague. LuttreU, as we
have seen, makes her come to Whitehall, but in
his notices of the Court's doing in the foUowing
month he never mentions her name. He records
Lady Portsmouth's return to England in July and the
expectation of the arrival that month of the Comtesse
de Soissons, Olympia Mancini, sister of the Duchess
of Mazarin. But neither in London, at Newmarket,
or elsewhere does he give a hint of the presence of
the Duchess of Cleveland. Nor does Evelyn speak of
her being in England again until 1685. But Mr.
Steinman discovered a letter in the Bodleian Library
at Oxford which shows that she was in London in
March 1684. From here she writes to the Duke
of Ormonde, in full confidence of his forgetfulness
of their former violent disagreement, and asks for

246 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
his support in connection with certain petitions to
him. " I doe not dowet," she writes, " your favorable
reporte tharuppon, which I shall tacke as a marke of
that frindshippe you allways ownd to have for her
that is My lord your Ex[ce]ll[ency's] most faithfull
humbUe sarvant Cleaveland."
Thirteen days after this letter was Easter Sunday,
March 30th, 1684, when Evelyn witnessed the re
markable scene which he thus describes in his Diary :
" The Bishop of Rochester preached before the
King ; after which His Majesty, accompanied with
three of his natural sonns, the Dukes of Northumber
land, Richmond, and St. Albans (sons of Portsmouth,
Cleaveland, and NeUy), went up to the Altar ; the
three boys entering before the King within the railes,
at the right hand, and three Bishops on the left. . . .
The King kneeling before the Altar, making his
offering, the Bishops first received and then His
Majesty ; after which he retired to a canopied seate
on the right hand."
It is possible, therefore, that the Duchess of Cleve
land was in London when Charles made this wonderful
display of himself, in a church which he had secretly
long deserted, in the company of her son and those
of two of her rivals — three of the six Dukes whom
he had added to the peerage from among his natural
chUdren. It may be noted that Evelyn thinks
Northumberland " the most accomplished and worth
the owning " of the six, " a young gentleman of
good capacity, well-bred, civil and modest . . . extra
ordinary handsome and weU shaped."

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 247
Of all Charles's numerous sons, Northumberland
was the one who most resembled him in appearance,
being described by John Macky as " a taU black
man like his father the King." A verse libel on him
a few years later speaks of " his beautiful face and
his dull stupid carriage." Northumberland scarcely
fulfilled Evelyn's hopes about him. Nor from his
only two notable exploits — the kidnapping of his
wife in 1685 and his prompt betrayal of the flight
of James II and desertion to WiUiam in December
1688 — should we have judged him to deserve Macky's
verdict, " He is a man of honour, nice in paying his
debts, and Uving well with his neighbours in the
country " ; or Swift's manuscript note thereon,
" He was a most worthy person, very good natured,
and had very good sense."
Northumberland was perhaps a little more estimable
than his brother Grafton, though Evelyn, owing
to his respect for the young Duchess, was on good
terms with the latter, and Burnet considered him,
if rough, the most hopeful of aU Charles's children
and, but for his premature death, likely to have
become a great man at sea. In recognition of his
naval abilities Charles made him Vice-Admiral of
England at the end of 1682, in succession to the late
Prince Rupert. Indeed the father amply atoned for
his early unwiUingness to recognise him as his son,
and heaped honours on him toward the end of his
reign. James II was equaUy generous to him, in
return for which Grafton deserted him even earlier
than did Northumberland.

248 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
As for Southampton, no one ever discovered
merit in him. His first wife, the little Mary Wood,
died in 1680, aged only sixteen. The next we hear
of the Duke is five years later, when he brings an
action in Chancery against her uncle, Dr. Wood,
Bishop of Lichfield, suing (as next of kin through
her to the deceased Sir Henry Wood) for £30,000.
This was adjudged to him as being part of Mary's
rightful portion. After this new triumph over
justice, Southampton relapsed into obscurity for a
few years more.
In connection with two of these sons there is
introduced now into the story of the Duchess of
Cleveland's life a new and remarkable person. Since
the explosion caused by the publication of her affairs
with Montagu and ChatiUon in 1678 there was
a period of silence concerning the Duchess's intrigues.
Perhaps, alarmed by what had happened then, she
had for a time been endeavouring to obey Charles's
injunction to live so as to make the least noise she
could. But it is certain that she had not changed
her manner of life in any other respect. Boyer,
when " drawing a Veil over the Life this Lady led," 1
cannot refrain from mentioning nevertheless that
" she descended to the embraces of a Player, a High
wayman, and since an Assassine, Evidence, and Renne-
gadoe." The individual whose character Boyer thus
pleasantly sums up is a certain Cardonell Goodman, a
gentleman by birth, but something very different
by conduct. CoUey Cibber tells us that he was
1 See p. 190.

HENRY FITZROY, FIRST DUKE OF GRAFTON

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 249
styled by his enemies " Scum " Goodman. The
nickname seems not inappropriate. A parson's son,
he went to St. John's College, Cambridge, and took
his B.A. degree in 1670, when he was about twenty-
one. Expelled by the University for his implication
in the defacement of the Duke of Monmouth's
portrait, he came to London and received or perhaps
bought a place as Page of the Backstairs to the King —
whose backstairs certainly did not demand persons
of high moral worth. But he lost this position by
neglect of his duties and turned from Court to stage,
joining the King's Company at Drury Lane when
about twenty-eight. As he was soon playing leading
parts (including the title role of Shakespeare's Julius
C&sar) he must have had histrionic ability. It was
after he had become an actor that he made the ac
quaintance of Lady Cleveland, but the date is un
certain. Probably it was at the time of one of her
visits to London during her residence in Paris, and
presumably it was before the autumn of 1684, since
his conduct then could not have introduced him
favourably to her notice.
On October 27th, 1684, Narcissus LuttreU records
that " Mr. Goodman the player (who was sometime
since committed for the same) pleaded not guilty
at the Court of King's Bench to an information for
conspireing and endeavouring to hire one Amidee
to poyson the Dukes of Grafton and Northumber
land." On November 7th we are told that he was
" tryed at the nisi prius at Westminster . . . and found
guilty," and on the 24th that " he came to receive

250 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
his judgment ; which was, to pay £1000 fine and find
sureties for his good behaviour for life." Earlier
in his London career he had come in for a fortune of
£2000 on his father's death. This, however, had
been squandered before he took to the stage, and
in those days of small salaries he certainly could not
have paid his fine from what he made as an actor.
He tried his hand accordingly at highway robbery,
but was caught and convicted. He must have had
influence of some sort, for he was pardoned by James II
and once more adorned the stage.
We shall hear of Goodman again. For the present,
we may note that the attempt to poison the two
young Dukes did; not permanently alienate their
mother's affections from the viUain. After his escape
from the gaUows, according to Oldmixon, " the feUow
was so insolent upon it that one night, when the
Queen was at' the theatre and the curtain, as usual,
was immediately ordered to be drawn up, Goodman
cried, ' Is my Duchess come ? ' and, being answered
no, he swore terribly the curtain should not be
drawn till the Duchess came, which was at the in
stant, and saved the affront to the Queen."
The year of Goodman's first trial, which may
have been also that of his earliest acquaintance with
his Duchess, saw the large payments out of Charles's
secret funds against the debts incurred by Lady
Cleveland ten years before on account of her daugh
ters' weddings. Her demands on the Privy Purse
had been outdistanced by the Duchess of Portsmouth,
who, it has been calculated, had already in 1681 re-

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 251
ceived as much as £136,668 from her royal lover,
and knew as well as her predecessor in Charles's
favour how to make money in addition to what
she was given by the King. " So damned a jade,"
the very free-tongued Countess of Sunderland de
clared her, that " she will certainly sell us whenever
she can for £500." It seems impossible to compute
with any approach to accuracy the extent of the
Cleveland extortions.
Apart from this payment against the bills for
Sussex and Lichfield trousseaus, the gift of the Hamp
ton Court stewardship, etc., is the last known grant
from Charles to his ex-mistress, but there is a story
of Lord Essex in 1679 being deprived of his post at
the Treasury because he refused to pay over a gift
of £25,000 from the King to the Duchess of Cleve
land. Arthur Capel, Earl of Essex, brother-in-law
of Lord Chesterfield's first wife, was an upright
and straightforward man. While acting as Lord-
Lieutenant of Ireland in 1672-7 he had followed
Ormonde's example in resisting the Duchess of Cleve
land's claim to Phcenix Park. After retiring from
this post in Ireland he was, on the Lord-Treasurer
Danby's faU early in 1679, put at the head of the
commission appointed to administer the Treasury.
The " discoverers " of the Rye-house plot endea
voured to implicate Essex in the pretended con
spiracy, and, after vainly trying to persuade Charles
to summon Parliament, he resigned on November
19th of the same year. Now in a letter written to
Sir Ralph Verney by a kinsman at Court eight days

252 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
later there is the following explanation of Essex's
motive in leaving the Treasury :
" Some say the E. of Essex went out on this score.
The King had given Cleveland £25,000, and she
sending to him for it he denied the payment, and
told the King he had often promised them not to pay
money on these accounts whUe he was so much in
debted to such as daily clamoured at their table for
money ; but if His Maj. would have it paid he wisht
somebody else to do it, for he would not, but willingly
surrender his place, at which the King replied, ' I
will take you at your word.' "
Lawrence Hyde, younger son of the former great
ChanceUor, succeeded Essex at the head of the
Treasury Commission, made no difficulty, it was said,
over paying the money which his predecessor had
refused and his own father would have died rather
than pay. But " that Duchess was ever his friend and
kept him in," says Sir Ralph Verney's correspondent.
The day of these rapacious harpies, however,
was nearly at an end. The year 1685 had scarcely
opened when Charles was overtaken by the fate
which had been threatening him for some time.
In the summer of 1679 rie ^ad a series of ague fits
which were sufficiently severe to induce him to fetch
back the Duke of York from his exile in Holland, in
case anything serious might occur. Again in May 1680,
when the Duchess of Cleveland was hiding a somewhat
diminished head in France, there had been another
scare caused by a fit which came upon the King at
Windsor, and compelled him to take to his bed.

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 253
His physicians diagnosed his malady as ague again,
and treated him with " Jesuits' Powder."1 His Majesty
quickly recovered, and in no way abated his usual
manner of Ufe. When the end arrived it took both
him and the nation by surprise. But it was some
thing worse than ague which had been coming upon
him. At the time of the King's last illness the Duchess
of Cleveland was in England, whether or not she had
remained here since the previous March. On January
25th, 1685, was witnessed the famous scene recorded
for posterity in Evelyn's Diary. The day was a
Sunday, and Evelyn writes : " Dr. Dove preached
before the King. I saw this evening such a scene
of profuse gaming, and the King in the midst of
his three concubines, as I had never before seen.
Luxurious daUying and prophanenesse." A week
later Evelyn adds further details.
" I can never forget," he says, " the inexpressible
luxury and prophanenesse, gaming and aU dissolute
ness, and as it were total forgetfullnesse of God
(it being Sunday evening) which this day se'nnight
I was witnesse of, the King sitting and toying with
his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleaveland, and Mazarine,
&c, a French boy singing love songs, in that glorious
gaUery, whilst about twenty of the greate courtiers
1 I.e. quinine. Sir William Temple, writing of this drug in his
Essay on Health and Long Life, says : " I remember its entrance upon
our stage, and the repute of leaving no cures without danger of worse
returns : but the credit of it seems now to be established by common
use and prescription, and to be improved by new and singular prepara
tions."

254 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
and other dissolute persons were at Basset round a
large table, a bank of at least 2000 in gold before
them, upon which two gentlemen who were with me
made reflexions with astonishment. Six days after
was all in the dust ! "
There are numerous accounts of King Charles's
fatal seizure. That given by Sir Charles Lyttelton in
a letter written on February 3rd, 1685, is perhaps less
familiar to the general reader than some others.
" Yesterday," says Lyttelton, " as the King was
dressing, he was seized with a convulsion fit and
gave a greate scream and fell into his chaire. Dr.
King happening to be present, with greate judgment
and courage (tho' he be not bis sworn phizitian),
without other advise, immediately let him blood
himself. He had 2 terrible fits, and continued very
ill all day, and till 1 or 2 a clock at night. He had
several hot pans applied to his head, with strong
spirrits. He had the antimoniall cup, which had no
greate effect ; but they gave him strong purges and
glisters, which worked very well ; and they cupped
him and put on severaU blistering plasters of can-
tharides. It took him abt. 8 a clock, and it was eleven
before he came to himself. He was not dead, for he
expressed great sense by his grounes all ye time. At
midnight there was little hopes ; but after, he fell
a sleepe and rested well 3 or 4 howers, and Sr Ch.
Scarboro [Sir Charles Scarborough, the physician]
told me he thinkes him in a hopefull way to doe weU.
His plasters were taken of this morning, and the
blisters run very well ; only one is yet on his leg,

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 255
which is very painfuU. He found himself ill when he
rose ; and those abt. him perceived it (but he said
nothing) by his talking and answering not as he used
to doe ; and Thorn. Howard desired Will Chiffing
to goe to him, but he would not let him come in, and
as soone as he came out the convulsion seized him,
and he feU into his chaire."
On the 3rd Charles was " twice let blood since
noone," after which the doctors thought he was in
a condition of safety. But on the night of the 5 th
Lyttelton wrote again to Lord Hatton that he had
been very ill almost since the previous midnight.
Hopes of amendment had been dashed, " his disease
being, as is supposed, fallen upon his lung, which
makes him labor to breath, and I see nothing but
sad lookes come from him." The relentless physicians
drew more blood from the dying man ; twelve ounces
in the early morning of the 6th, as Evelyn teUs.
" It gave him reliefe, but it did not continue, for
now being in much paine, and struggling for breath,
he lay dozing, and after some conflicts, the physitians
despairing of him, he gave up the ghost at halfe an
houre after eleven in the morning, being 6 Feb. 1685,
in the 36th yeare of his reigne, and 54th of his age."
" He spake to the Duke of York," adds Evelyn a
little later, recording the King's last wishes, " to
be kind to the Dutchesse of Cleaveland, and especially
Portsmouth, and that Nelly might not starve."
The Secret History of the Reigns of King Charles 11
and King James II says that " aU the while he lay
upon his death-bed, he never spoke to his brother to

256 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
put him in mind of preserving the laws and religion
of his people ; but only recommended to him the
charitable care of his two concubines, Portsmouth
and poor NeUy." The author of The Secret History
must indeed have been well informed if he knew aU
that was said by Charles upon his long and agonising
death-bed ! It is not, however, in order to refute this
imputation against the dying King that we have made
this quotation from a work fuU of crude and reckless
charges against both Charles and James, but to caU
attention to the fact that only " Portsmouth and
poor Nelly " are mentioned in this version of the
commendation of the ladies to the care of the Duke
of York. Similarly Burnet says that Charles " recom
mended Lady Portsmouth over and over again "
to his brother. " He said he had always loved her,
and he loved her now to the last ; and besought the
Duke, in as melting words as he could fetch out,
to be very kind to her and to her son. He recom
mended his other children to him : and concluded,
Let not poor Nelly starve ; that was Mrs. Gwyn.'"
BariUon, the French Ambassador, also speaks only of
a recommendation of the Duchess of Portsmouth and
"poor Nelly" to James's care.
It is curious that enemies of Charles II like Burnet
and the author of The Secret History should omit
the name of the Duchess of Cleveland in their accounts
of the dying charge, when Charles's connection with
her certainly did him as much injury as that with the
Duchess of Portsmouth and more than that with
NeU Gwynn. Since Evelyn, however, is a most

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 257
conscientious recorder of what he sees and hears,
and is not likely to have inserted the name of Cleve
land through any desire to depreciate the King, of
whom he is a most tender-hearted censor, we are
justified in crediting his version rather than that of
the hostile bishop and the libeUous pamphleteer, even
though these are supported by the French Ambassador.
We know that Charles appealed to his brother on
behalf of his natural children, except the Duke of
Monmouth, who was in disgrace and an exile in
HoUand. He is not Ukely to have forgotten, therefore,
the mother of five of them.
We shaU not yield to the temptation to add yet
another to the innumerable character-sketches of
Charles II. But it will not be out of place to make a
few observations upon his treatment of the lady
with whom he linked his name during the whole of
his actual reign of twenty-five years. Evelyn is
not making an unwarrantable assertion when he says,
in his character of Charles, that he " would doubtless
have been an exceUent Prince, had he been less
addicted to women, who made him uneasy and always
in want to supply their unmeasurable profusion,
to the detriment of many indigent persons who had
signaUy served both him and his father." Ingratitude
is a grievous fault in a prince — though cynics find
it their commonest faiUng — and Charles's reputation
has suffered enormously from his apparent readiness
to forget services and betray friends. Yet his letters
and reported speeches do not show him by any means
lacking in grateful feeling toward those to whom

258 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
he considers himself indebted. It is true that it is
the Charles Berkeleys rather than the Clarendons
to whom he shows genuine attachment. But Claren
don for a long time had little cause for complaint.
Burnet, who does not like the Chancellor, sees
Charles so entirely trust him " that he left aU to his
care and submitted to his advices as to so many
oracles." Clarendon himself, while finding excuses for
his King's seeming ingratitude to others early in his
reign in the behaviour of the Royalists, grasping
at favours and fighting among themselves, when
it comes to his own betrayal can only attribute His
Majesty's " fierce displeasure " with him to " the
power of the great lady," united with the efforts of
his personal enemies. There is every reason for
supposing that Clarendon was right, and that it was
Lady Castlemaine, as she then was, who brought
about his ruin in revenge for his unceasing opposition
to her power since first Charles elevated her to the
position of official mistress.
It is scarcely necessary to go beyond the case of
Clarendon to show that the King gave the lady
a scandalous licence of interference with the internal
government of the country ; and in the influencing
of England's foreign pohcy we have seen her take
her share in 1665-6', when she was one of those
who forced on the war which Louis XIV was so
anxious to avoid. As to the extent to which Charles
allowed his mistress to govern him up to the time
when she left WhitehaU for Berkshire House there
can be no doubt. In spite of his fond belief that

THE LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II 259
women did not rule him, Lady Castlemaine's hand
was in all his affairs, political and financial.
The financial power of that hand excited more
indignation than its political workings. The pre
cipitation of a war with the unpopular French and
the ruin of an autocratic ChanceUor were watched
without much concern. But the outpouring of
vast sums from the country's revenues to gratify
the tastes of " an enormously vicious and ravenous
woman " stirred up the wrath of aU but the gang
who shared the spoUs with her. It was in vain that
the King tried to disguise his grants by making out
the patents to obUging relatives of hers and friends
of his. It is not possible to reckon up the sum in
hard cash which he made over to her between 1660
and 1685. But everyone was aware that it amounted
to many thousands of pounds a year, and that but
for the advent of Louise de Keroualle, another beauty
as ravenous if not as vicious as Barbara herself, it
might have reached much greater figures.
But it was not the case that Charles's reckless
generosity to his first official mistress ceased when
he deposed her from her post, as we have seen. When
his passion for her was exhausted, which perhaps
occurred as early as 1664, he stiU took a long time to
break off the habit of his intimacy with her. He
managed to banish her honourably from her Whitehall
apartments in 1668, but it was another eight years
before she took her departure to France. All this
time she was receiving fresh sources of revenue
which made the position of discarded mistress more

260 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
lucrative still than that of ruling favourite. Even
the disgrace which befell her in connection with
the Montagu affair did not dry up the stream of gold.
At the very time of his death, Charles's secret funds
were going to the settlement of some of her old debts.
In fact, it might be said that even in the tomb Charles
did not close his purse to her. He died on February
6th, and nine days later, the morrow of his funeral,
sums amounting to £305 us. were paid from his
secret funds to various tradesmen in connection with
the unsettled debts for the Sussex and Lichfield
trousseaus. Truly, if Charles, as he told Clarendon, liked
the company and conversation of Barbara ViUiers,
and felt that, having undone her and ruined her
reputation, he was " obliged in conscience and
honour to repair her to the utmost of his power,"
he had made in the course of the twenty-five years
of their acquaintance very handsome amends for
the ruin of such a reputation as was hers when he
met her. The price of real virtue in His Majesty's
estimation would be incalculable if Barbara's was
worth so much.

CHAPTER XIII
" HILARIA "
~*HE personal history of the Duchess of Cleve
land is even more vague during the brief
reign of James II than during the closing years
of his brother's reign. We have seen Evelyn's notice
of her on January 25th at Whitehall, in the company
of Charles and the Duchesses of Portsmouth and
Mazarin. In the upset following the King's un
expected death the earliest of the three mistresses
appears to have escaped public notice. Not so the
Duchess of Portsmouth. LuttreU, after mentioning
the report that " His Majesty, the night before
he was taken iU, was to visit the Dutchesse of Ports
mouth," teUs how that lady " since His late Majesties
death hath sent her goods and is retired to the French
ambassadors ; but 'tis said a stopp is putt to her
goeing beyond sea by His Majestie till she hath paid
her debts, which are very great : 'tis said she hath
also many of the crown Jewells, which some are apt
to think she must refund before she goe beyond sea."
She was not, indeed, allowed to leave until about
two years after Charles's death, for as late as March
1687 she " is said to be returning to France."
As for the Duchess of Mazarin, she owed so much
money in London that it is doubtful whether she
261

262 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
could have gone to France, even had she desired to
do so. She preferred the country of her adoption,
however, to her country by marriage, and continued
to reside in London during King James's reign
and the next, in spite of a request from the House
of Commons to William that she should be banished.
And it was in London that, in the last year of the
seventeenth century, she " died seriously, with Chris
tian indifference towards life," as Saint-Evremond
declares. While two of the three Duchesses are thus known
to have remained in the country, one for the greater
part of, and the other throughout, the year, the
action of Her Grace of Cleveland in 1685 is unknown.
Seeing that her former husband was in very high
favour with the new King, it might have been ex
pected that she would withdraw for a time. In
early May Lord Castlemaine was one of the important
witnesses against Titus Oates in his trial for perjury
at the King's Bench Bar, as were his kinsfolk the Earl
and Countess of Powis at Dangerfield's trial a week
later. The Roman CathoUc triumph which followed
on James's accession, bringing about the weU-deserved
ruin of Oates and Dangerfield and some startling
conversions among well-known people,1 did not,
of course, do any harm to Lady Cleveland, a Roman
Catholic of twelve years' standing. But the lack of
any mention of her presence in England for the
1 Evelyn, on January 19th, 1686, writes : "Dryden the famous
playwriter, and his two sonns, and Mrs. Nelly (Misae to the late
[King]) were said to go to masse ; such proselytes were no greate
losse to the church."

" HILARIA " 263
whole of the first year of James's reign would
suggest that she returned to Paris, were it not for
one little piece of scandal mentioned in a letter
written to the Countess of Rutland by her uncle
Peregrine Bertie in April 1686. According to this
letter " the gratious " Duchess of Cleveland had
just given birth to a son, " which the towne has chris-
tained Goodman Cleveland," attributing the father
hood to Cardonell Goodman. We hear no more
of this child, and there may, of course, have been
nothing but malice in the story. But at least it
argues that the Duchess was in London in March
1686, and had been there nine months previously.
The one personal mention of Barbara between
King Charles's death and the Revolution is contained
in a letter written by some unknown person to John
Ellis on July 31st, 1688. This correspondent relates
that the Duchess of Mazarin, her sister the Duchess
of Bouillon (Marie Mancini), and the Duchess of
Cleveland " went down the river on board an East
Indiaman, and were, it seems, so well satisfied with
their fare and entertainment that Their Graces
stayed two or three days." This was certainly a
rather remarkable proceeding on the part of the three
ladies. Perchance they were endeavouring to keep
up their spirits in the midst of the agitation caused
by the daily expected invasion of England by the
Prince of Orange.
Apart from the chronicUng of this trip down
the Thames, what little we hear about the Duchess
of Cleveland at this period is in connection with

264 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
her sons. Of these the Duke of Grafton was the
most prominent. At the Coronation of James II
on April 23rd, 1685, he was present as Lord High
Constable of England. In the following June he
proceeded to the West of England in command of
part of the King's army against the Duke of Mon
mouth, and had a narrow escape from death. He
was drawn into an ambuscade near " PhiUipsnorton,"
LuttreU recounts, " where a pretty many were kiUed,
with hazard of the Duke himself, had he not been
timely reUeved by some of the King's forces." After
the crushing of the rebellion at Sedgemoor, where
he commanded the foot and with the rest of James's
army "behaved himself with all imaginable resolution
and bravery," Grafton is next prominent in February
1686. LuttreU says that on the second of that month
he " fought a duel with one Mr. Talbott, brother to
the Earl of Shre[w]sbury and killed him " — a coroner's
inquest subsequently bringing in a verdict of man
slaughter ; Evelyn, that on the 19th the Duke " kUled
Mr. Stanley, brother to the Earle of [Derby], indeede
upon an almost insufferable provocation," though he
hopes that " His Majesty wiU at last severely remedy
this unchristian custome." We have no clue as to
what was this almost insufferable provocation, nor
indeed any details of either affair. For neither does
Grafton appear to have suffered any harm, since
next month he is not only at liberty, but is involved
in an extraordinary escapade with his brother
Northumberland. The youngest of the sons of King Charles and

" HILARIA " 265
the Duchess of Cleveland, after his unsuccessful
wooing of Betty Percy, remained unmarried until
some time in 1685 or early 1686, when, as one of John
ElUs's correspondents wrote to him, he was " bubbled
into marriage with Lucy's widow, to the disgust of
the King." This " Lucy's widow " was Catherine,
the relict of a certain Thomas Lucy, but by birth
the daughter of a poulterer who may have made a
fortune — although the Countess of Northampton
writes that the lady was " rich only in buty, which
tho much prised will very hardly mentaine the quality
of a Duchess." According to a doggerel poem of the
period, it was a case of —
" Lucy into bondage run,
For a great name to be undone ;
Deluded with the name of Duchess
She fell into the Lion's clutches." J
Grafton appears to have helped his brother to
this match, and when the King's disgust was made
known he further helped him in that attempt to
" spirit away his wife " of which Evelyn speaks in
his Diary on March 29th, 1686. On April 6th some
one writes to Ellis to the effect that " the Graces
Grafton and Northumberland are returned from
Newport " — sc. Nieuport in Flanders — " and put
the lady in a monastery ; but the King says it is not
fit she should stay, nor is it believed she wiU."
Grafton's influence on his brother in this affair
1 One is reminded of what Congreve once wrote to John Dennis :
" I have often wondered how these wicked writers of lampoons could
crowd together such quantities of execrable verses, tag'd with bad
rhimes."

266 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
and King James's anger are borne witness to by
another poem of the time, which says :
" Since His Grace could prefer
The poulterer's heir
To the great match his uncle had made him,
'Twere just if the King
Took away his blue string
And sewed him on two to lead him.
That the lady was sent
To a convent in Ghent
Was the counsel of kidnapping Grafton ;
And we now may foretel
That all will go well
Since the rough blockhead governs the soft one."
What was " the great match his uncle had made
him " appears from a letter of Peregrine Bertie to the
Countess of Rutland. " I have but jest time," he tells
his niece, " to send your Ladyship word of the Duke of
Northumberland owning himself married to Captaine
Lucy's widow. The King was very angry with him
about it, for they had treated a match for him with
my Lord Newcastle's daughter, and all the particulars
agreed." But no steps seem to have taken to break
the marriage. At any rate Northumberland did not
divorce his wife, and on June 17th, 1686, we read in
another letter from Peregrine Bertie to the Countess
that " the Dutchess of Northumberland went yesterday
to waite on the Queen at Windsor, some say to bee
declared Lady of the Bedchamber."
This escapade had no effect on the Duke of Grafton's
advancement, fjor little more than a year later he is
found entrusted with the honourable mission of
escorting the Princess Palatine from Rotterdam to

" HILARIA " 267
Lisbon, on her way to be married to the King of
Portugal. Of his illegitimate nephews Grafton
appears to have been the favourite of James II.
In the year following that in which the Dukes
of Grafton and Northumberland carried out their
remarkable abduction, the man to whose honour their
birth had done so great a wrong reached the highest
point in his career. In January 1687 he was sent
by the King as Ambassador Extraordinary to the Pope,
with a mission to " reconcile the kingdoms of England,
Scotland, and Ireland to the Holy See from which,
for more than an age, they had fallen off by heresy."
Castlemaine proceeded to Rome, and at once began
to assert the dignity of his post. Letters reached
England teUing of his setting up " the armes of the
Pope and His Majestie over his pallace, with several
devices of the catholick religion triumphing over
heresy " and of " the great splendor and magnificence
of his reception." x But suddenly there came about
a change in the news, and at the beginning of March
he " is talkt of to come home," leaving his secretary
behind him in Rome as ambassador. Innocent XI
apparently found his pretensions too high, and treated
him with scant courtesy, being " seasonably attacked
with a fit of coughing" when the envoy attempted
to discuss his business with him. So says WeUwood,
whose Memoirs, however, it must be remembered, are
entirely coloured by his prejudice against the Jacobite
1 "His publick entry into Rome," Boyer says in his obituary
notice on Castlemaine in 1705, "was pompously printed with a great
many curious copper cuts, at King James the zd's charge."

268 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
party. " These audiences and fits of coughing," says
WeUwood, "continued from time to time, while
Castlemaine continued at Rome, and were the subject
of diversion to aU but a particular faction at that
Court." At last Castlemaine, in disgust, threatened to
leave Rome, when the Pope sent him a recommenda
tion to " rise early in the day and rest at noon, since
it was dangerous in Italy to travel in the heat of the
day." Thereon he departed for England. The
editor or compiler of King James's own Memoirs says
that the English envoy " being of a hot and violent
temper, and meeting a Pope no less fixed and positive
in his determinations, they jarr'd in almost every point
they went on."
But Castlemaine, even if recalled, was not dis
graced. On the contrary, in September he was
sworn of the Privy CouncU, as his cousin Powis had
been the year before. Powis was also created a
Marquis, and his wife on June ioth, 1688, the day
of the birth of James Francis Edward, Prince of
Wales, was made " lady governess of their Majesties'
chUdren." Among the loyal adherents of James II
there were none of higher character than Castle
maine and the Powises, and it is a melancholy fact
that James's bestowal of signal honours on them
was made within fifteen months of the landing in
England of his successor on the throne. Had he not
relied so much on people of a very different stamp,
James might never have had to abandon that throne.
The Earl of Castlemaine and his cousins did not
betray their King. The Powises left for France,

From a contemporary -work published in Rome
THE EARL OF CASTLEMAINE AT THE FEET OF INNOCENT XI

" HILARIA " 269 •
the Marquis being condemned in his absence next
year for being in arms with King James in Ireland ;
while Castlemaine, remaining in England, was cap
tured in the country and sent to the Tower. On
the other hand, one of the earliest of those actually
holding office under James to desert to the invader
was the Duke of Grafton, who joined the Prince
of Orange before the end of November. What was
thought of his conduct even at the time when London
was preparing to welcome the Prince may be gathered
from the fact that as he was riding along the Strand
on December 14th at the head of his regiment of
foot he was shot at by a dragoon near Somerset House.
The pistol missed fire, and the man was immediately
shot dead by one of the Duke's soldiers.
His brother Northumberland was almost as prompt
to turn his coat, and Southampton foUowed their
examples. Their mother's uncles, Sir Edward Villiers
and Lord Grandison, were both found on the same
side very early, the former being escort to the Princess
of Orange on her journey from HoUand in February
1689, while the latter retained his post as captain of
the Yeomen of the Guard until March. William,
indeed, seems to have been particularly fascinated by
the Villiers family. One of them, EUzabeth, daughter
of Sir Edward, he honoured by making his mistress.
Whatever may be thought of the conduct of
her sons and her uncles, who all owed so much to
the family of Stuart, it was not to be expected that
the Duchess of Cleveland would let considerations
of loyalty guide her. She was forty-seven years

270 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
of age when the change of dynasty took place, and
her most pressing anxiety was naturally about her
pension. Life in exile at Saint-Germain was not
for her. As early as July 13th, 1689, she is found
writing to the new Lords of the Treasury to the
foUowing effect :
" My Lords,
" I am extremely sensible of your justice in
renewing my dormant warrant to the Postmaster-
General or Governour of the Post Office for the
receipt of my rent charge established by two Acts
of Parliament on that Branch. But I am very much
surprised to find that since some objections have
been made (upon pretence of what Major Wil[d]man
refuses payment) and the consideration of it left
to his Majesties Councill, I cannot obteyne a report,
my request is that your Lordsh'pps wiU be pleased
to expedite that justice on my behalf e in hastening
the report, which may continue me alwayes.
" Your Lords'pps most humble
" Ser't, " Cleaveland."
This letter did not have the desired effect. Their
Lordships at first refused altogether to order Major
WUdman to pay their most humble servant, and
at the end of the foUowing January only relented
so far as to give orders for the payment of one quarter's
pension while the question was being referred to
Kensington Palace, recently purchased from the
Earl of Nottingham to serve as a royal residence.
And, though she made a piteous appeal on August ist,
1692, alleging that her creditors' clamour forced her

" HILARIA " 271
to write so insistently, apparently it was not until
another five years had gone by that the Duchess
received satisfaction of her claims. It does not seem
to have weighed much with WUliam that he had
found such useful supporters in the lady's family.
The chief of these, however, was soon removed by
death. After taking part in the naval battle off
Beachy Head in June 1690, Grafton proceeded
to Ireland, and^was mortally wounded at the siege t
of Cork 4nd3e£§l*e^ leaving a son to inherit his title,"
and, in later days, to afford some protection to the
lady to whom they both owed their distinguished place
in the world.
It is not certain whether the Duchess of Cleveland
was in England at the time of King James's retirement
from Ireland in 1690. But that she was back in
London again in the spring of the following year,
and residing at Cleveland House for a time, may be
supposed from an occurrence there on March 30th,
1 691. On that day there was born a son to the Lady
Barbara " Fitzroy," who thus before she was nineteen
gave a proof of her appreciation of her mother's
example. Herself the reputed daughter of John
ChurchiU, she owed her son to James Douglas, Earl
of Arran, eldest son of the third Duke of Hamilton,
who had in January 1688 married Lady Ann Spencer,
daughter of Lord Sunderland. He is described by
Evelyn as " a sober and worthy gentleman," although
the connection with the Lady Barbara is poor testi
mony to his sobriety or worthiness. At the time of his
natural son's birth he was a prisoner in the Tower

272 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
for the second time since the throne changed hands.
He was arrested on the first occasion because, it was
said, he waited on the Prince of Orange soon after his
arrival and told him that he did so by command of
His Majesty the King. Released shortly afterwards,
he was re-arrested on the charge of corresponding
secretly with the French Court, and kept in custody
for over a year, during which period Barbara Fitzroy's
child was born. His own family being disgusted
with him, a condition made by their desire, when he
was let out upon bail, was that the young lady should
be despatched out of England. She was accordingly
sent as a nun to the convent of Pontoise, where she
ultimately died. The father retired to Scotland, and
was finally acquitted of conspiracy — to die in 1 71 2 by
the sword of the ruffianly Lord Mohun, or of his
second, General MacCartney, in the duel introduced
by Thackeray into the closing chapter of Part I of
Esmond. The son, who was given the name of Charles
Hamilton, was left from his birth in the care of his
grandmother Cleveland, with whom we shall hear of
him again later.
The Lady Barbara, as we have seen, bore her son
at Cleveland House in March 1691, and from this
it has been assumed that the Duchess of Cleveland
was also at that time at the residence which Charles
II had presented to her. If so, she was soon com
pelled by lack of ready money to quit Cleveland
House. We know that she was without cash from the
letter addressed to the Treasury on August ist, 1692,
She had moved to a house in Arlington Street,

" HILARIA " 273
PiccadiUy — a street which had then been built only
two years — in order to save the upkeep of Cleveland
House, for which she no doubt again found a tenant.
After her move to Arlington Street, the Duchess
of Cleveland is once more brought vividly before our
eyes, owing to a chance acquaintance which she
made about 1692-3. This was with Mary de la
Riviere Manley, already alluded to above in con
nection with the story of the Duchess's intrigue
with John ChurchUl. Her autobiographical romance,
The Adventures of Rivella, and, in a less degree,
her unsparing or (to use an expression of her own)
" flaming " satire, The New Atalantis, provide much
information about the Duchess, some at least of
which looks to contain as much truth as can be ex
pected from the pen of one woman writing about
another with whom she has quarrelled.
De la Riviere Manley, as she is generally called,
was one of the three daughters of Sir Roger Manley,
whom Charles II made Lieutenant-Governor and
Commander-in-Chief of the castles, forts, and forces
in Jersey as a reward for his loyalty. Sir Roger died
in 1688, when his celebrated daughter was only
about sixteen years of age. He left her a small legacy
in his wiU, but apparently with no sufficient guardian to
look after her. At any rate she soon came to grief.
After having been entrapped into a mock-marriage
by a cousin (supposed to have been John Manley, son
of the Cromwellian Major Manley, and afterwards
Member of Parliament), she was deserted by him
and left to shift for herself. She spent, according

274 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
to herself, three solitary years after her betrayal,
apparently in London, and must have been about
twenty-one when she came in contact with the
Duchess of Cleveland.
We wiU let Mrs. Manley tell the tale her own
way, after mentioning that The Adventures of Rivella
are cast in the form of a narrative by Sir Charles
Lovemore to the young Chevalier D'Aumont concerning
a charming and much-wronged lady Rivella, who is,
of course, De la Riviere Manley herself. A " compleat
key " to the Adventures (published with the third
edition in 171 7, three years after the appearance of
the first), states that Lovemore was Lieutenant-
General Tidcomb. But he is of no importance
except as the narrator. After explaining to the
Chevalier that he had known the lady in her girlhood
in Jersey, had been smitten by her charms, had lost
sight of her after her father's death, and had sought
for her determinedly, he continues :
" One night I happen'd to caU in at Madam
Mazarin's, where I saw Rivella introduced by Hilaria,
a Royal mistress of one of our preceding Kings.
I shook my head at seeing her in such company. . . .
I accepted the offer she made me of supping with
her at Hilarious house, where at present she was
lodg'd ; that Lady having seldom the power of
returning home from play before morning, unless
upon a very ill run, when she chanced to lose her
money sooner than ordinary." x
1 The Comte de Soissons, descendant of Hortense Mancini's sister,
Olympe, Comtesse de Soissons, has kindly given me the following
note : " ' The playing is but moderate, and it is the only entertain-

" HILARIA " 275
Hilaria, as has been explained in chapter ix,
is the Duchess of Cleveland. In the foUowing para
graph " the lady who liv'd next door to the poor
recluse " (Rivella) is stated in the Compleat Key to be
" Mrs. Rider, Sir Richard Fanshaw's daughter."
" Hilaria had met with Rivella in her soUtary
mansion, visiting a lady who liv'd next door to the
poor recluse. She was the only person that in three
years Rivella had conversed with, and that but since
her husband was gone into the country. Her story
was quickly known. Hilaria, passionately fond of
new faces, of which sex soever, us'd a thousand
arguments to dissuade her from wearing away her
bloom in grief and solitude. She read her a learned
lecture upon the ill-nature of the world, that wou'd
never restore a woman's reputation, how innocent
soever she reaUy were, if appearances prov'd to be
against her ; therefore she gave her advice, which
ment,' says Saint-Evremond in his description of the pleasures of
hospitality at the Duchesse de Mazarin's. When Hortense's friend
employs the adjective ' moderate ' to qualify the gambling, for which
Hortense's apartments in London were so famous that it was
popularly known as la banque of the Duchesse de Mazarin, he is not
exact ; he is the only historian who attempted to exculpate Hortense
from the accusation of being a gambler. It is true that at the
beginning of her life at St. James's Palace conversation and wit pre
vailed in her drawing-room, but this was changed. A croupier by the
name of Morin ran away from Paris to London and succeeded in
sneaking into St. James's Palace, where he made the game of bassette
(basset) fashionable, and for this game Hortense neglected witty and
learned conversations. In vain Saint-Evremond protested in his prose
and verse against the rage for gambling, which competed with con
versation as does bridge-playing in our time. He remained vox
clamantis in deserto. Morin drove away from Hortense's drawing-
rooms the whole witty Areopagus which had once frequented them."

276 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
she did not disdain to practise ; the English of which
was, To make herself as happy as she could without
valuing or regretting those by whom it was impossible
to be valued. The lady at whose house Rivella
first became acquainted with Hilaria, perceiv'd
her indiscretion in bringing them together. The
love of novelty, as usual, so far prevail'd that herself
was immediately discarded, and Rivella persuaded
to take up her residence near Hilarious; which
made her so inveterate an enemy to Rivella that
the first great blow struck against her reputation
proceeded from that woman's malicious tongue :
She was not contented to tell all persons who began
to know and esteem Rivella, that her marriage was
a cheat, but even sent letters by the penny-post to
make Hilaria jealous of Rivella7 s youth, in respect
of him who at that time happen'd to be her favourite."
There is a delightfuUy modern touch in this use
of the penny post for the transmission of anonymous
letters, which was hardly to be expected. Next
foUows the passage which has already been quoted
in an earUer chapter 1 concerning Count Fortunatus
and his " ingratitude, immorality, and avarice." The
story then proceeds :
" Rivella had now reign'd six months in Hilaria? s
favour, an age to one of her inconstant temper ;
when that Lady found out a new face to whom the
old must give place, and such a one, of whom she
could not justly have any jealousie in point of youth
or agreeableness ; the person I speak of was a kitchin-
maid married to her master, who had been refug'd
1 Seep. 189.

" HILARIA " 277
with King James in France. He dy'd, and left her
what he had, which was quickly squander'd at play ;
but she gain'd experience enough by it to make
gaming her livelihood, and return'd into England
with the monstrous affectation of caUing herself
a French-woman ; her dialect being thenceforward
nothing but a sort of broken English : This passed
upon the Town, because her original was so obscure
that they were unacquainted with it. She generally
ply'd at Madam Mazarin's basset-table, and was also
of use to her in affairs of pleasure ; but whether
that lady grew weary of her impertinence and strange
ridiculous airs, or that she thought Hilaria might
prove a better bubble ; she profited of the advances
that were made her, and accepted of an invitation
to come and take up her lodgings at Hilaria's house,
where in a few months she repay'd the civility that
had been shewn her, by clapping up a clandestine
match between her patroness's eldest son, a person
tho' of weak intellects, yet of great consideration,
and a young lady of little or no fortune."
The Duke of Southampton had, in fact, made a
second marriage, no more iUustrious than his former
one. His new wife, whom he wedded in November
1694, was Anne, daughter of Sir William Pulteney,
formerly Member of Parhament for Westminster
and Commissioner of the Privy Seal under the new
regime. With her he settled down to quiet domestic
life, dying finally at the age of sixty-eight, and leaving
a son to bear his title. We now come to Rivella's
estimate of her former patron's character, from
which it wiU be gathered that the young lady was,

278 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
by the time when they parted, heartily tired of her
acquaintance, and that when she published her
Adventures, five years after the Duchess's death, she
felt bound by no considerations of gratitude for any
favours in the past to respect her memory. " Hilaria,"
she writes, " was querilous, fierce, loquacious, ex
cessively fond or infamously rude. When she was
disgusted with any person, she never fail'd to reproach
them with aU the bitterness and wit she was mistress
of, with such malice and Ul-nature that she was
hated not only by all the world, but by her own
chUdren and family ; not one of her servants but
what would have laugh'd to see her lie dead amongst
them, how affecting soever such objects are in any
other case. The extreams of prodigality and covetous
ness ; of love and hatred ; of dotage and adversion,
were joyn'd together in Hilaria' s soul."
Hilaria had now made up her mind to get rid
of Rivella in favour of the ex-kitchenmaid. But
just for a few days, pretending a more than ordinary
passion, she " caused her to quit her lodgings to come
and take part of her bed " in Arlington Street.
Rivella was not deceived. She attributed this action
to Hilaria' s desire to make it more difficult for her
to see the man she herself was in love with — who,
the Compleat Key informs us, was none other than
Goodman the actor. This agreeable personage is
known to have left the stage by 1690 and to have
betaken himself to heavy and successful gambling,
which made another bond of sympathy between him
and the Duchess.

" HILARIA " 279
According to the Adventures Goodman was not
faithful, having a mistress in the next street whom
he kept in as much grandeur as his lady. Rivella,
however, he did not like at aU. His feelings towards
her were hatred and distrust, as he feared that Hilaria
would learn about his intrigue round the corner
through " this young favourite, whose birth and
temper put her above the hopes of bringing her into
his interest, as he took care aU others should be that
approached Hilaria." So he told Hilaria that
Rivella had made advances to him- — which confirmed
the news sent by the penny post. But Hilaria,
not yet being provided with anyone to take Rivella's
place at once, dissembled her feelings and threw in
Rivella's way one of her own sons — we are not told
whether it was Southampton or Northumberland —
leaving them alone together upon various plausible
pretences. " What might have proceeded from so
dangerous a temptation," says the supposed narrator,
" I dare not presume to determine, because Hilaria
and Rivella's friendship immediately broke off upon
the assurance the former had receiv'd from the broken
French-woman that she would come and supply her
place." " The last day she was at Hilaria' s house just as
they sat down to dinner, Rivella was told that her
sister Maria's husband was fallen into great distress,
which so sensibly affected her that she could eat
nothing ; she sent word to a friend, who could give
her an account of the whole matter, that she would
wait upon her at six a clock at night, resolving not

280 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
to lose that post, if it were true that her sister were
in misfortune, without sending her some relief.
After dinner several ladies came into cards. Hilaria
ask'd Rivella to play ; she begg'd Her Ladyship's
excuse, because she had business at six a clock ; they
persuaded her to play for two hours, which accordingly
she did, and then had a coach sent for and return'd
not tiU eight : She had been inform'd abroad that
matters were very weU compos'd touching her sister's
affairs, which extreamly lightned her heart ; she
came back in a very good humour, and very hungry,
which she told Hilaria, who, with leave of the first
Dutchess in England that was then at play, order'd
supper to be immediately got ready, for that her
dear Rivella had eat nothing aU day."
At the supper-table, Rivella having again mentioned
how hungry she was, her hostess threw out an in
sinuation as to the reason for this, and, on being
chaUenged, introduced her son's name in a very
pointed way. She continued :
" ' Nay, don't blush, Rivella ; 'twas doubtless
an appointment, I saw him to-day kiss you as he led
you thro' the dark drawing-room down to dinner.'
' Your Ladyship must have seen him attempt it,'
answer'd Rivella (perfectly frighted with her words),
' and seen me refuse the honour.' c But why,' reply'd
Hilaria, ' did you go out in a hackney-coach, without
a servant ? ' ' Because,' says Rivella, ' my visit lay
a great way off, too far for your Ladyship's chairmen
to go : It rain'd, and does stiU rain extreamly ;
I was tender of your Ladyship's horses this cold wet
night ; both the footmen were gone on errands ;

" HILARIA " 281
I ask'd below for one of them, I was too weU manner'd
to take the Black, and leave none to attend your
Ladyship ; especiaUy when my Lady Dutchess was
here. Besides, your own porter paid the coachman,
which was the same I carried out with me ; he was
forc'd to wait some time at the gate, tiU a guinea
could be chang'd, because I had no silver ; I beg
aU this good company to judge whether any woman
would be so indiscreet, knowing very well, as I do,
that I have one friend in this house that would not
fail examining the coachman where he had carried
me, if it were but in hopes of doing me a prejudice
with the world and your Ladyship.'
" The truth is, Hilaria was always superstitious
at play ; she won whilst Rivella was there, and would
not have her remov'd from the place she was in,
thinking she brought her good luck. After she was
gone her luck turn'd ; so that before Rivella came
back, Hilaria had lost above two hundred guineas,
which put her into a humour to expose Rivella in
the manner you have heard ; who briskly rose up
from table without eating anything, begging her
Ladyship's leave to retire, whom she knew to be so
great a mistress of sense, as well as of good manners,
that she would never have affronted any person at
her own table but one whom she held unworthy of
the honour of sitting there. Next morning she wrote
a note to Hilaria' s son, to desire the favour of seeing
him. He accordingly obey'd. Rivella desir'd him
to acquaint my Lady where he was last night, from
six till eight. He told her at the play in the side-
box with the Duke of  whom he would bring to
justify what he said. I [that is to say, Lovemore, the
supposititious narrator] chanc'd to come in to drink

282 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
tea with the ladies. Rivella told me her distress.
I was moved at it, and the more because I had been
myself at the play, and saw the person for whom she
was accus'd set the play out. In a word Rivella waited
tiU Hilaria was visible, and then went to take her
leave of her with such an air of resentment, innocence,
yet good manners, as quite confounded the haughty
Hilaria. " From that day forwards she never saw her more ;
too happy indeed if she had never seen her. AU the
world was fond of Rivella, and enquiring for her
of Hilaria she could make no other excuse for her
own abominable temper and detestable inconstancy,
but that she was run away with  her son, and
probably would not have the assurance ever to appear
at her house again."
We have quoted The Adventures of Rivella at
considerable (but, it is trusted, not at excessive)
length, because there is no other work except Mrs.
Manley's which throws any Ught on her patroness's
doings at this period, and because it seemed a pity
to abridge to any great extent the account given in so
amusing, but now so little read, a work.

CHAPTER XIV
IN LOW WATER
TX7TTH the help of Mrs. Manley we have been
able to see something of the life at Arling
ton Street of the Duchess of Cleveland after she
had passed her fiftieth year. One last quotation
from the same gall-dripping pen will serve to com
plete the picture. " The Dutchess," says The New
Atalantis, " by her prodigality to favourites fell
into an extream neglect. Her temper was a perfect
contradiction, unboundedly lavish and sordidly
covetous, the former to those who administered
to her particular pleasures, the other to all the rest
of the world. When Love began to forsake her,
and her charms were upon the turn, because she
must stiU be a bubble, she fell into gamesters hands,
and play'd off that fortune Sigismund had enrich'd her
with ; she drank deep of the bitter draught of con
tempt, her successive amours, with mean ill deformed
domestics, made her abandoned by the esteem and
pity of the world ; her pension was so UI pay'd that
she had oftentimes not a pistole at command. . . ."
The portrait, it is to be feared, is scarcely over
drawn. The Duchess's want of money, her extreme
greed for it, and her abandonment to the gambling
283

284 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
passion require no proving, nor does her prodigality
to those to whom she took into her favour. The
worse charges were freely circulated against her in
many lampoons published while she was still living.
The grossness of these verse-tributes to her " execrable
name " forbids their reproduction here, and it
must suffice to say that they bear out Boyer's descrip
tion of the Duchess as " this second Messalina."
No doubt there is to be seen in the ferocious onslaught
upon her the accumulated rage of thirty years,
the bitter memory of the stream of gold which
Charles II had poured into her lap ; and the period
was not one to let considerations of age or sex weigh
aught when there was a chance offered for exacting
vengeance. To represent the lady of " the withered
hand and wrinkled brow " — though the Duchess's
portrait by Kneller in the reign of Anne, unless it
was a mere piece of flattery, shows that she reaUy
retained her good looks to a wonderful extent —
condemned to seek for pleasure in the meanest of
company gave the satirists the keenest delight. Never
theless, the whole tenor of the Duchess's life en
courages the belief that there was not only smoke,
but also much fire.
Of one lover, whom the spiteful tongue of Mrs.
Manley perhaps intended to include among the
" mean ill deformed domestics," though actuaUy
he was nothing of the sort, the Duchess of Cleveland
was robbed in the eighth year of WiUiam's reign.
In February 1695 a number of arrests were made
of Jacobites said to be implicated in an " Assassination

IN LOW WATER 285
Plot " against the life of the monarch. The aUeged
leaders were Robert Charnock and Sir John Fenwick,
who were convicted of high treason and executed
in March 1696 and January 1697 respectively —
Fenwick having avoided capture for some time.
Among those arrested on the first discovery of the
plot was Cardonell Goodman. His sympathies with
King James were weU known. Indeed, he had already
got into trouble less than a year before. On June nth,
1695, LuttreU writes :
" Yesterday being the birthday of the pretended
Prince of Wales, several Jacobites mett in several
places, and particularly at the Dogg tavern in Drury
Lane, where with kettle drumms, trumpets, &c.
they caroused, and having a bonfire near that place,
would have forced some of the spectators to have
drank the said princes health, which they refusing,
occasioned a tumult, upon which the mobb gathering
entred the tavern, where they did much damage,
and putt the Jacobites to flight, some of which are
taken into custody, viz. captain George Porter, Mr
Goodman the late player, Mr Bedding, Mr Pate, &c."
Whether Goodman suffered any punishment for
his riotous behaviour on this occasion, W do riot
"tear. But about the following February 22nd he
was again arrested and sent to Newgate. It looks as
if some attempt were made to connect the Duchess
of Cleveland with the plot, for on April 7th LuttreU
says : " Mr Gisburn, of the band of pentioners extra
ordinary, is taken into custody, there being found
in his custody a chest of carabines, and another of

286 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
pistoUs, which he said were sent him by the Dutchesse
of Cleveland to be kept soon after Goodman was
apprehended, and is committed to the Gatehouse."
The Duchess's character must surely have pro
tected her from all suspicion of risking anything on
behalf of James II. Goodman, too, soon revealed
the nature of his convictions. After his examination
on April 16th it was observed that he returned to
Newgate without irons or a military escort, and it
was generaUy believed that he had informed against
the Earl of AUesbury. Soon after he and " Mr
Porter " (^ the Captain George Porter of the Drury
Lane riot) gave evidence against another conspirator,
Peter, son of Sir Miles Cook. An attempt was made
by some persons to get Porter to fly to France, but
Porter betrayed his would-be bribers, who were
committed to Newgate. Then on November 16th
" Goodman and Porter swore positive against Sir
John," as LuttreU tells us. The result to Fenwick
was that he lost his head on Tower HiU. Goodman,
having served his end as an informer, was aUowed to
escape to France. The EngUsh Jacobites were said
to have helped him to get away, to prevent further
disclosures. The move was not, however, to his
advantage; for on February nth, 1697, LuttreU
says : " Several letters from France advise that the
French King had caused Goodman to be committed
to the BastiUe and put into irons, designing to break
him upon the wheel for what he swore against Sir
John Fenwick." He avoided this fate, but two years
later succumbed to a fever while still in France.

IN LOW WATER 287
" Scum " Goodman had quitted his Duchess with
out damaging her character as far as politics were
concerned. Nor, even if the " Goodman Cleveland "
of Peregrine Bertie's letter was a fact, can he
be said ever to have damaged her character much
otherwise, for the simple reason that it was beyond
his power to damage when he first met her.
While her actor lover was ending his miserable
career, one who stood in a very different position
to the Duchess was also suffering for his connection
with the Stuarts. The Earl of Castlemaine, however,
was in trouble sooner, and after enduring it longer
escaped without dishonour. He was arrested at
Oswestry in January 1689; and after seven or eight
weeks there was brought to London. On October 28th,
according to LuttreU, he " attended the House of
Commons, and being charged with goeing ambassador
to Rome he excused it by the late King's positive
command for that purpose: however, they committed
him to the Tower for high treason." In the May of
the following year he and the Marquis of Powis
were among the thirty specially exempted from the
Act of Indemnity. But although Castlemaine was,
unlike his cousin, within the clutch of his enemies,
he was not treated with the full rigour of the law.
An inexphcable system of petty persecution was,
instead, put into effect against him. On June 2nd,
1690, he appeared at the Court of King's Bench and
was discharged. In August he was again seized,
and on October 23rd he is found appealing, with
some others, either to be tried or bailed out according

288 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
to the Habeas Corpus Act. On November 28th
the petitioners were admitted to bail, which was
renewed in the foUowing January. Then on May
22nd, 1691, LuttreU writes: "At the Exchequer was
a tryal between the King and the Earl of Castlemaine
for 4000/. worth of plate, which he had of King James
when he went on his embassy to Rome ; the Earls
councU insisted on a privy seal from the late King
James, which they produced in Court, dated 8 Dec.
1688, whereby the plate was given to his own use ;
but the witnesses not being positive whither it past
the seal reaUy before or after the abdication of King
James, the jury found for the King, and gave £2,500
damages, the value of the plate."
After this severe blow to his purse, Castlemaine
seems to have departed to live at Saint-Germain
for some years, for in the parish registers there his
name occurs on three occasions between December
1692 and August 1694 as godfather at the baptism
of three chUdren born at the Court of King James.
Once more his private affairs caused him to risk
returning to England. On September 3rd, 1695,
we read that " BiUs of high treason are found at
the sessions against 23 persons, most Romanists,
who have absented the kingdom, as sir Edward Hales,
Earles of Castlemain and Middleton, &c, who, if
they doe not appear, will be proceeded against by
way of outlawry, in order to extend their estates."
Castlemaine must have appeared, in order to save
his estate, and have been once more arrested and im
prisoned, for we find him on July 18th, 1696, " dis-

IN LOW WATER 289
charged out of the Tower, on condition he goe beyond
sea." He went back to Saint-Germain to find Lord
Powis, created by his exiled master Duke, Knight
of the Garter, and Lord Chamberlain to his house
hold, dead and buried just before his own release
from the Tower. He settled down once more at
James's Court for a time, but returned again to his
native land, possibly after the decease of both James
and WiUiam. Boyer makes him " live retiredly in
Wales " at the last. At any rate, death overtook
him at Oswestry on July 21st, 1705. In his will,
which was dated November 30th, 1696, and was
therefore drawn up subsequently to his banishment
from England, he appointed as his trustees " my
Lady Ann, now Countess of Sussex, and John Jenyns,
of Heys, in the county of Middlesex, Esq.," leaving
to Anne (though he does not call her his daughter)
his property in the Savoy and his leaseholds in Mon
mouthshire, together with his plate, jewels, and other
personalty. His body was buried, by his desire,
in the family vault of the Powises at Welshpool,
Montgomeryshire. So ended a life ruined by an
infatuation with a beautiful face.
We have been anticipating events, and must
now return to the Duchess of Cleveland at her
ArUngton Street house, occupying her time with
intriguing, gambling, and evading the demands
of her creditors, while striving hard to persuade
William's Government to continue the payment
of the pension which she had received from Charles
and had continued to draw under James. We have

290 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
heard of her urgent appeal in August 1692 and of its
lack of success. When 1697 opened she was stiU
unpaid, and in desperation she prepared a memorial,
which was read on March 22nd before the Lords of
the Treasury. In this she represented that by an
Act of Parliament of the fifteenth year of Charles II
the revenue of the Post Office was settled on the
Duke of York, the King having power to charge
it with a sum not exceeding £5382 a year; that
Charles had granted to Lord Grandison and others,
in trust for her, £4700 a year from that revenue ;
that in James's reign she had an order to receive
payment of £500 a week to satisfy arrears, which
then amounted to more than £1300 ; and that she
had been compelled to borrow money at interest,
and now owed nearly £10,000. She therefore prayed
for a warrant empowering her to receive the rents
due to her from her annuity.
This appeal was rejected at first. But William
seems to have considered that justice demanded
he should recognise the grants of his predecessors,
and accordingly, when the Lords of the Treasury
at the end of July applied to his Secretary for direc
tions during his absence on the Continent, on August
5th the answer was received that His Majesty desired
a payment to be made to the Duchess on the
arrears of her pension proportionable to what had
been paid to other great persons. The Lords on
the 24th ordered the Postmaster-General to " satisfie
the Dutchess of Cleveland's want of £2350 by
£100 a week for twenty-three weeks, and £50

IN LOW WATER 291
the last week, the first payment to be made this
week." The struggle of nine years was crowned with victory,
and Her Grace of Cleveland had succeeded in
emulating the Vicar of Bray. As changes of reign
made no difference to his position, so too she under
Charles, James, and William, and soon under Anne,
drew her pension of £4700 from the Post Office.
It is true that she had the debt of £10,000 to pay off,
but debts troubled her not at all so long as she had
a supply of ready money for present needs and the
gratification of her desires. She could afford now
the presents which she loved making to her favourites,
and was free to indulge her passion for gambling
without humiUating appeals to an avaricious and
ungrateful Churchill.1
Another period of obscurity, if no longer of in
digent obscurity, follows. During the last years
of William the Duchess is not found figuring in
pubUc. She might " still be a bubble," as Mrs.
Manley says, but on the top of a muddy pool of her
own choosing, not on the surface of high society,
and the poUte writers of the day neglect her until
the time is reached of her curious second experiment
in matrimony.
1 A late reference to the Duchess as a gambler may be seen in a
letter written on August 29th, 1704, when Her Grace was nearly
sixty-three. Stanley West at Tunbridge Wells tells his friend Robert
Harley in London : " Here are few persons of quality. . . . The
Lords George Howard, Petre, and Fanshaw are still remaining, and
also the Duchess of Cleveland who is a constant player with the
gentlemen only, and hath had bad success."

CHAPTER XV
THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING
AS was only to be expected from her personal
character, the Duchess of Cleveland had a
faculty for making the acquaintance of people whose
reputations were more pecuhar than edifying. Among
all those with whom she came into contact during
her long life not one, with the exception perhaps
of Cardonell Goodman, was more extraordinary
than the man whom she made, for the briefest of
periods, her second husband. When their paths
met Robert Feilding was already remotely connected
with her, through William Feilding, first Earl of
Denbigh, who married Susan Villiers, Barbara's
great-aunt. The precise relationship of Robert
to the Denbighs does not appear, but he was on very
friendly terms with George, third Earl and younger
son of the first. The Feildings were descended from
the Hapsburghs, and were Counts of the Empire ;
and the Beau did not fail to have the spread eagle
emblazoned on his coach and to claim the countship
on occasions. His father, George Feilding, of Hill-
field HaU,1 SolihuU, Warwickshire (now on the edge of
1 The Beau changed its name to Feilding Hall. By the courtesy
of the present occupier, Mr. Samuel Boddington, I have been
allowed to inspect this charming old mansion. The front and a
292

From an engraving by 31. Van der Gt/cht
ROBERT FEILDING

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 293
Greater Birmingham), married a daughter of Sir
¦I- nomas Shirley, and their son was well provided for
when he reached years of indiscretion. He is said
by some to have been at Queen's College, Oxford,
and to have served for a time in the army of the
Emperor Leopold I, commanding a regiment. Another
account of his early days makes him come up to
London to study law, but quickly abandon the idea
when pleasure and fashion had their influence upon
him, spending his money upon his personal adorn
ment, and cutting a great dash with his fine clothes
and his footmen in yellow liveries with black sashes
and black-plumed hats. James Caulfield, who is
responsible for this account, says that he paid for
his profligacy by disgraceful means, for " the contri
butions which he raised from some of the sex he
lavished upon others."
Some said King Charles first caUed him " Handsome
Feilding " ; others, the ladies who admired him.
good deal of the rest of the house remain much in the state in which
they were when the Feildings owned the place. The Feilding arms
are to be seen on the wall above the window of the dining-room, and
are also on a stained-glass window which was removed from the Hall
to Solihull parish church. In a book Solihull and its Church, written
by the Rev. Robert Pemberton and privately printed, it is stated that
the Hall was built in 1576 by one William Hawes. On the death of
his son, some time after 1653, it passed into the possession of George
Feilding, who was parish bailiff. He died in 1671, and his son
Robert sold it to the Rev. Henry Greswold, rector of Solihull. The
date of the sale Mr. Pemberton places about 1676, but he admits
that there is no direct evidence to show that the Greswolds owned
Hillfield Hall until 1709. In his will the Beau describes himself
still as " Robert Feilding, of Feilding Hall in the County of
Warwick, *j,sq."

294 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
Addison contributed to the Tatler in 1709 the follow
ing description of him under the disguise of Orlando
the handsome :
" Ten lustra1 and more are wholly passed since
Orlando first appeared in the metropolis of this
island : his descent noble, his wit humorous, his
person charming. But to none .of these recom
mendatory advantages was his title so undoubted
as that of his beauty. His complexion was fair, but
his countenance manly ; his stature of the tallest,
his shape the most exact ; and though in aU his limbs
he had a proportion as delicate as we see in the works
of the most skilful statuaries, his body had a strength
and firmness little inferior to the marble of which
such images are formed. This made Orlando the
universal flame of all the fair sex ; innocent virgins
sighed for him as Adonis ; experienced widows
as Hercules. . . . However, the generous Orlando
believed himself formed for the world, and not to
be engrossed by any particular affection."
Feilding was taken into favour by James II, who
made him a grant of £500. He repaid the King
better than did many whose characters were more
highly esteemed, since he did not, Uke the Fitzroys,
ViUierses, Churchills, etc. etc., desert to WiUiam of
Orange at the first opportunity. On the contrary,
he first raised a regiment on James's behalf in Warwick
shire, and later accompanied him on his invasion
of Ireland after the Revolution, sat in his Irish
1 This is incorrect, for Feilding was only about sixty-one when he
died in 1712.

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 295
Parliament as member for Gowran, co. Kilkenny,
in 1689, and went back to Saint-Germain with
him. At the exiled Court he was one of those
rarities, a man with money, having brought with
him a sum of £4000, doubtless part of his second
wife's dowry. He became reconciled somehow with
the WiUiamite Government, possibly through the
Denbigh influence, for he was living in England
again at the beginning of 1696. On January nth
of that year LuttreU tells how " Sir Henry Colt and
Beau Feilding fought a duel near Cleveland House ;
the former was run thro the body, tho' not mortal,
and the latter disarmed and escaped."
It was not over the Duchess that the duel was
fought, in spite of the curious coincidence with
regard to its locality and the subsequent Feilding-
Cleveland marriage. A week later LuttreU says that
Sir Henry Colt, having recovered from his wound
and come to the House of Commons, " was ordered
to bring in a biU to ascertain the wages of servants,
and more easy recovery thereof, it being about that
which occasioned the quarrel between him & M1
Feilding, for the apprehending of whom a proclama
tion was this day ordered, offering a reward of £200
to any that shaU seize him, for assaulting Sir Henry
Colt, a justice of the peace, in execution of his office."
It is difficult to imagine how Feilding could be so
particularly interested in the servants' wages question
as to fight a duel about it. Yet this is all we know.
He was arrested early in March, but seems to have
escaped serious punishment. A fine should not

296 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
have inconvenienced him greatly, for he had married
in succession two rich women ; the first the Honour
able Mary Swift (daughter of Viscount Carlingford
and a relative of the Dean), who left him a widower
in 1682, and the second the lady of whom we have
already heard as Viscountess Muskerry, one of the
lively Elizabeth Hamilton's victims at the Court
masquerade described by Gramont. She was a
daughter of Lord Clanricarde, and, in spite of her
ungainly appearance, had already before she met
Feilding married first Lord Muskerry (the husband
who had objected to her "Babylonian" fancy
dress), and on his death a doubtfully legitimate
Villiers, Robert, by courtesy third Viscount Purbeck,
and by assumption " Earl of Buckingham." This
Villiers was slain in a duel in 1684, leaving his widow
to prove again the power of money by taking to
herself a third partner. Through his second wife's
influence, perhaps, the Beau became a Roman CathoUc.
She died in 1698, and for seven years after this he
remained unmarried, while he ran through her for
tune, no difficult feat for so raffish a person as he.
Before he made his match with the Duchess of
Cleveland he came into notoriety again over a quarrel
in the theatre. On December 15th, 1702, LuttreU
writes: " Last night Beau Feilding was dangerously
wounded in the playhouse by one Goodyer, a Here
fordshire gentleman." Swift, not predisposed to
love Feilding for having married and spent the
fortune of a kinswoman of his own, adds a little to
our scanty knowledge of this affair. In a fragment

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 297
upon the subject of Mean and Great Figures he
speaks of " Beau Feilding at fifty years old, when in
a quarrel upon the stage he was run into his breast,
which he opened and showed to the ladies that he
might move their love and pity ; but they all feU
a-laughing." Sir Walter Scott in his edition of
Swift's works has a note to the effect that Feilding
received his wound at Mrs. Oldfield's benefit. " The
combat took place betwixt him and Mr. Fullwood,1
a barrister, whose foot he had trodden upon in press
ing forward to display his person to most advantage.
His antagonist was killed in a duel the very same night,
having engaged in a second theatrical quarrel. The
conduct of the hero might be sufficiently absurd ;
but a wound of several inches' depth was an odd
subject of ridicule."
A curious work entitled Cases of Divorce for Several
Causes, pubUshed early in the eighteenth century,
contains some prefatory " Memoirs of Robert Feilding
Esq." Here it is stated that " Major-General Feilding
was undoubtedly one of the Leaders of Cupid, if not
of Mars " ; and it must be admitted that, in spite
of his high military rank (which was possibly con
ferred on him by King James in Ireland, if not merely
assumed by himself), it was more as a lover than as a
warrior that he made his name ; and his violence
toward the old Duchess, Mary Wadsworth and Mrs.
VUlars, described later, argues in him the heart of
a bully rather than a man of courage.
Owing to the rapidity of pace with which affairs
1 The discrepancy between the names Goodyer and Fullwood is odd.

298 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
usually progressed with such ardent spirits as Feilding
and the Duchess of Cleveland, it seems safe to assume
that it was not before the second half of the year
1705 that they made each other's acquaintance.
The lady was then nearing her sixty-fourth birthday,
and had just lost her unhappy first husband. Feilding
was ten years younger and was eagerly looking out
for a third heiress-bride. About the same time the
names of two promising candidates occurred to him.
One was a young widow, Anne Deleau, the possessor
of a fortune of £60,000 ; the other the famous ex-
mistress of Charles II. He had no difficulty in getting
to know the latter. According to Addison in the
Tatler, his first speech on meeting " the beauteous
Villaria " was to this effect : " Madam, it is not only
that Nature has made us two the most accomplished
of each sex and pointed to us to obey her dictates in
becoming one ; but that there is also an ambition in
following the mighty persons you have favoured.
Where kings and heroes as great as Alexander, or
such as could personate Alexander,1 have bowed,
permit your General to lay his laurels."
In reply to this fine speech, the Tatler says in the
language of Milton :
" The Fair with conscious majesty approved
His pleaded reason."
It was not so easy to scrape an acquaintance with
Mrs. Deleau, who had a father still living to look
1 " Such as could personate Alexander," i.e. Goodman, one of
whose famous parts was Alexander the Great.

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 299
after her interests. Feilding invoked the assistance
of one Mrs. Streights, who suggested the employment
of a certain Charlotte Henrietta Villars, a person
of no repute (as he was to be called upon to show),
but able to get access to ladies of quality in the capacity
of a dresser of hair. Feilding readily agreed — he is
soon afterwards found to be calling Mrs. Villars by
the famiUar name of "Puggy" — and confided the
matter to her care. Before long, with her assistance,
he introduced himself, as he imagined, to Mrs. Deleau,
representing himself to her as Earl of " Glascow,"
Viscount Tunbridge, and Major-General Feilding,
though, of course, he had not even the shadow of a
claim to the two first titles. He proceeded to take
the remarkable step of marrying both widows in the
course of sixteen days. We will not anticipate the
account of the first marriage, which is set forth very
fuUy in the evidence of the great bigamy trial below,
further than by saying that he was united with the
supposed Anne Deleau on November 9th, 1705,
in the lodgings which he had recently taken in Pall
Mall, the ceremony being privately performed by
a priest from the Austrian Embassy. Then on No
vember 25th he was married to the Duchess of Cleve
land, also privately, at her house in Bond Street,
to which she had moved after leaving Arlington Street.
The priest on this occasion was Father Remigius,
alias Deviett, chaplain to the Portuguese Ambassador.
Two allusions to Feilding's marriage to the Duchess
are to be found in the correspondence of the day.
One is in a letter written by Lady Wentworth to

300 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
her son, Lord Raby, then in Berlin, on December 14th,
1705. " The old Boe Feelding is maryed to the
Dutchis of Cleevland," she says, " and she owns
it and has kist the Queen's hand sinc[e]." This is
interesting as showing that the scandalous Duchess
was not debarred from the Court of Anne now.
The other letter was sent on December 17th to
Dr. Atterbury by Lord Stanhope, son of the Lord
Chesterfield of whom we have heard so much earUer
in this book. " I had a letter from you this day,"
wrote Stanhope, " with a diverting one enclosed
from a mad imaginary general, who is so happy as to
be fond of that which my father, and all the world
besides himself, were weary of long ago. I think him
(as Dryden says of the last Duke of Buckingham) a
happy madman ; since he can at this time be pleased
with Cleveland . . . without so much as caUing back
the idea of quantum mutatus ab Mo."
After his second wedding the Beau transferred
his abode to the Duchess's house, though secretly
keeping up his lodgings in PaU Mall, in order to
meet the supposed Anne Deleau there. Toward
the Duchess of Cleveland he soon showed himself
in his true colours. " She payed dear for her fancy,"
says Boyer ; " for he used her very UI, and not being
content with the plentiful allowance she made him
out of her constant income of a hundred pounds
a week, paid her out of the Post Office, he would
have divested her of aU, even to the necessary furniture
of her house, had not her sons, and particularly the
Duke of Grafton, her grandson, stood by her."

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 301
But worse was to come. In May 1906 Grafton
came to her and informed her that two women had
been to his house and told him that Feilding had
already made a marriage sixteen days before the
Bond Street ceremony. It is with no wonder that
we read in LuttreU on May nth : " The Dutchesse
of Cleeveland is given over by her physitians." The
violence of the old lady's rage now may be imagined
from what Mrs. Manley tells of her state on the
occasion of Churchill's refusal of a loan.
The house in Bond Street cannot have been a
pleasant home for the Beau after the discovery of
his perfidy, and it is difficult to beheve that he con
tinued to reside in it while the Duchess remained there.
Before the end of June we find him prematurely
consigned to the grave. LuttreU on the 29th writes :
" Handsome Feilding, who married the Dutchesse
of Cleveland, died yesterday." So far was this from
being a fact, however, that on July 24th Feilding
was committed to Newgate, the Duchess having
" sworn the peace against him." It is clearly to
this that Lady Wentworth alludes when on July
29th she writes to Lord Raby from Twickenham :
" Just as I came down hear I hard that the Dutchis
of Cleeveland's Feeldin was dead, and she in great
greef for him ; but it was no such thing, for instead
of that she has gott him sent to Newgate for thretning
to kiU her twoe sons for taking her part, when he
beet her and broack open her closset doar and toock
fower hundred pd. out. Thear is a paper put out
about it. He beat her sadly and she cryed out murder

302 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
in the street out of the windoe, and he shott a blunder-
bus at the people."
On the day after his committal to Newgate, how
ever, FeUding was released on bail, he finding £1000
and the Duke of Devonshire and Earl of Denbigh
£500 each. During his brief absence in jail the
Duchess seized the opportunity of leaving Bond
Street and seeking the protection of either her son
Northumberland or her grandson Grafton. On
his release he published the following remarkable
advertisement in a broadside, of which an example
has been preserved among the Harleian MSS. :
" Where as the most Noble and most IUustrious
Princess Barbara, Dutchess of Cleveland, did on
the 25th of July, or thereabouts, make a spontaneous
Retreat from the Dwelling House of her Husband,
Major-General Robert Feilding, near Piccadilly, taking
with her, or sending and conveying before her Elope
ment, Goods, consisting of Money, Plate, Jewels,
and other things, amounting to the Value of Three
Thousand Pounds, or upwards, the Goods and
Chattels of her said Husband, and which was own'd
by herself to be removd by her Order, with a solemn
promice of restoring the said Goods the next day ;
But so it is, that as yet there has been no Restoration
made of any thing : And notwithstanding her Husband
did, by the Earl of Denbeigh, invite her the said
Dutchess to return to her Co-habitation with him,
she has absolutely refus'd it, by aUedging, that she
had put herself under the Protection of her Children ;
and that she defy'd her said Husband, and would
Justify her Elopement. For these causes, and others

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 303
no less considerable, her Husband thinks fit solemnly
to give Notice to all Tradesmen and others, upon
no Account whatever to Trust, or give Credit, to
the said Dutchess, whose debts he will in no wise
satisfy." The subhme impudence of Beau Feilding is ad
mirably iUustrated in this claim on the property
of the woman he had deceived so grossly. But
Nemesis was awaiting him with no slow foot now.
On September 3rd, as LuttreU tells, " the bench of
justices at Hicks HaU granted a warrant against
Handsome Feilding for beating a person since he
was bound over." Who was the 1 person assaulted
on this occasion we do not know. Next, on October
4th he was " taken out of his coach by baylifs, near
Temple Bar, and carried to Newgate for debt."
Then on October 23rd, the first day of the legal
term, the Duchess appeared in the Court of Queen's
Bench and preferred an information against him for
abusing her. " It's said," adds LuttreU, " the grand
jury at Hicks HaU have found a biU against him for
having two wives, for which he is to be tried next
session at the Old Bailey." 1
The Duchess of Cleveland, in her fury, was not
content to proceed against the evildoer in one way
1 A newsletter of November 2nd, 1706, says : "The Duchess of
Cleveland was introduced by Grafton, Northumberland, and Quarendon
the first day of the term, when for continuing of the bail she swore she
feared personal hurt, and for a proof of her not having malice she said
she had married him who had nothing. Feilding answered that she
had no malice when she married him, but his having now ^50 per
week, etc. However, his bail was continued."

304 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
only. She was determined to make him suffer all
the ignominy possible. She therefore had him
arraigned at the Old BaUey for felony, while she
sued in Doctors Commons for divorce and nuUity
of marriage. The first case is a celebrated example
of a bigamy trial two hundred years ago, and the
report of it throws an immense amount of light upon
one side of life in those days. We shaU endeavour
to give enough of it to make clear the conduct of
FeUding, the Duchess of Cleveland, and Mary Wads-
worth in this extraordinary affair.
The trial opened on Wednesday, December 4th,
1706, at the Sessions House in the Old Bailey, the
indictment against Feilding being that he, on the
9th day of November [1705], at the parish of St.
James's, Westminster, took to wife one Mary Wads-
worth, spinster, and the same Mary Wadsworth
then and there had for his wife ; and that afterwards,
viz. on the 25th day of the same month, at the parish
of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, did feloniously take
to wife the most noble Barbara, Duchess of Cleveland
(the said Mary Wadsworth his former wife, being
then living), " against the peace of our Sovereign
Lady the Queen, her crown and dignity, and against the
form of the statute in that case made and provided."
The counsel for the Queen were Mr. Raymond
and Sir James Montague. Feilding perforce defended
himself, the law not aUowing him the assistance of
counsel on such a charge.
The important part of Montague's opening speech
was as follows, slightly abbreviated here and there :

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 305
" About a year ago there was a young lady left
a widow by Mr. Deleau and reputed a great fortune.
Mr. Feilding had a design upon this lady and in
August 1705 applied himself to one Mrs. Streights
to contrive some method how he might have access
to this widow. Mrs. Streights had no acquaintance
with her, but knew Mrs. Villars used to cut her hair.
So they thought the best expedient was to make
Mrs. ViUars their friend, that by her interest he might
have admittance to Mrs. Deleau ; not questioning
but if once she had a sight of his very handsome
person she would have the same affection for him
that he had met with from other ladies. Mrs. Villars
was promised £500 to bring this about ; and though
she doubted whether she could ever accomplish
it, yet by these means she might perhaps make a
penny of it to herself. Therefore she promised Mrs.
Streights to use her endeavour to serve the Major-
General (meaning Mr. Feilding), though she could
not be sure such an overture would be well received
by Mrs. Deleau. But being acquainted with one
Mary Wadsworth, who was somewhat Uke the widow,
she imagined it would be no difficult matter to set
her up to represent Mrs. Deleau. And accordingly
it was done, and Mr. Feilding proved so intent upon
the matter that he went to Doctors-Commons to
examine Mrs. Deleau's will, and found that she was
left very considerable " — to the extent of £60,000,
it was stated later in the trial.
" Soon after he went to Tunbridge and after
two or three days' stay there returned and caUed
at Waddon, where Mrs. Deleau resided, with a
pretence to see the house and gardens, but in reality
to see the widow. It happened that the lady would

306 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
not be seen herself, but her servants were permitted
to show him the gardens, and he fancied that he had
a sight of Mrs. Deleau too ; for, a kinswoman of
her looking out of window into the garden, he con
cluded it could be nobody but Mrs. Deleau admiring
Beau Feilding. About three days after his return
from Tunbridge, he told Mrs. Villars of his calling
at Waddon, and that he had acquainted the Duchess
of Cleveland of the fine gardens that were there,
which she expressed a great desire to see, and therefore
directed Mrs. Villars to go in Her Grace's name to
ask the favour of seeing the house and gardens.
Accordingly Mrs. Villars went down to Waddon ;
and Mrs. Deleau treated her very civiUy and told
her whenever Her Grace pleased she should see her
house and gardens ; but as she was a widow she could
not attend upon her. Though the Duchess was
expected after this, she did not go, for indeed she
did not know anything of the message.
" The next time Mr. Feilding attempted to see
Mrs. Deleau was at a horse-race at Banstead Downs,
but he was again disappointed. After this he sent
a letter to her house, but the servants when they
saw the name to it, knowing the character of Mr.
Feilding, threw it into the fire.
" When Mrs. Villars found that the Duchess of
Cleveland knew nothing of her being sent to Waddon
and that it was only a contrivance of Mr. Feilding's
to get an opportunity of seeing Mrs. Deleau, and
that in truth he had never seen her, she resolved
to play trick for trick with him and thereupon
proposed the matter to Mary Wadsworth, whom
Mr. Feilding did not know, and one that could not
worst herself much by such an undertaking, whether

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 307
it succeeded or not. Mrs. Wadsworth readily em
braced the offer, and thereupon Mrs. ViUars went to
Mr. Feilding and told him she had proposed the
matter to Mrs. Deleau, who had at last given a
favourable ear to it, and that she did not fear but
if matters could be prudently managed his desires
might be accomplished.
" A Uttle before Lord Mayor's Day, 1705, Mrs.
ViUars told Mr. Feilding that she had at length
obtained of the lady a promise of an interview,
and that she was shortly to bring her to his lodgings ;
but he must take care not to let her know they were
his lodgings or to give her the least cause to suspect
he had anything to do there. Accordingly Mrs.
ViUars, the evening of Lord Mayor's Day, brought
Mrs. Wadsworth, in a mourning coach and widow's
dress, to the lodgings. He was not within at the
time they came, but being sent for came soon after
and was extremely complaisant. At length, in spite
of the caution he had received, he could not forbear
showing her his fine clothes and what furniture he
had, and sent for Mrs. Margaretta Galli to sing to her,
and pretended that he was extremely taken with her,
and that nothing would satisfy him but being married
that night. She, with a seeming modesty, checked
his forward behaviour and made a show of going
away in displeasure ; but before they parted he pre
vailed on her to promise not to put off their marriage
longer than Wednesday seven-night.
" The appointed day being come, to make him the
more eager and shun suspicion through too much
forwardness on her part, the lady put it off again
tiU Friday, November 9th; at which time Mrs.
Villars and she came again to Mr. Feilding's lodgings,

308 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
where he received them with extraordinary transports
of joy. The lady stUl putting him off and making
as if she would be gone, Mr. Feilding, to make things
sure, locking them in his apartment, drove in a hackney-
coach directly to Count GaUas's, the Emperor's
envoy, in Leicester Fields, and returned with one
Don Francisco Drian, a Popish priest [attached to
the Roman Catholic chapel in the Fields], styled
The Father in Red, on account of a red habit he
wore. On his arrival the marriage took place."
Counsel went on to say that after the wedding-
night the supposed widow Deleau went away with
Mrs. ViUars to Waddon, as FeUding thought, to
which place he addressed letters to her, caUing her
The Countess of Feilding, best of wives, etc. She
visited him again twice at his lodgings before No
vember 25th (the reason for this secrecy being that
the heiress's father must not know of the marriage,
having a portion of her fortune in his hands). Once
more after his marriage with the Duchess of Cleve
land she paid him a visit. " During all this time
he made her presents, furnished her with money,
and treated her as his wife, until the cheat was found
out, which was in the foUowing May. Then finding
how he had been served, that instead of marrying
a fortune of £60,000 he had been imposed upon
and had married one not worth so many farthings,
he discarded her in great wrath."
The first and principal witness called for the
prosecution was Mrs. Villars, who bore out what
had been said about her share in the business, and

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 309
stated that when the supposed Mrs. Deleau had
paid her second visit after the wedding-night, Feilding
kept writing to her to come again soon, as he was
going to leave his lodgings altogether and be with
Her Grace the Duchess of Cleveland.1 Mrs. Wads
worth therefore came ; but neither Feilding nor his
man-servant were at the lodgings. The latter,
however, came in later and said he had brought
his master's night-gown and slippers from the Duchess
of Cleveland's. Apparently this did not open Mary
Wadsworth's eyes yet, for Mrs. ViUars explained thus
the manner in which she was enlightened with regard
to the Beau's proceedings. At the beginning of
May 1706 Mrs. Wadsworth sent to him for money,
Which, of course, betrayed to him, with his know
ledge of the Deleau wiU, that she could not be what
she had pretended to be. He thereupon sent for
Mrs. Villars to come to the Duchess of Cleveland's.
When she arrived he demanded to have his presents
returned, beat her, and taking " a thing made of
1 In the "Articles exhibited against Robert Feilding, Esq.," in the
case in Doctors Commons, the 24th Item says that, after the marriage
with Mary Wadsworth, "the said Robert Feilding, Esq. did tell and
declare to the said Mary his Wife, that the most noble Barbara,
Duchess of Cleaveland, had settled all, or the greatest Part of her
Estate on him the said Robert. And that if she heard of his aforesaid
Marriage, he feared she might alter her Mind, or retract what she had
done, and not be so kind to him. The said Robert, for the Reasons
aforesaid, desired that his Marriage to the said Mary his wife might
be kept private." In the fifth of the seven letters to Mary Wadsworth
after her marriage, put in as evidence against Feilding at both trials, he
writes : " I have not lain at my lodgings since I saw my dear wife ;
and this week shall leave them altogether, to lye at Her Grace's.
However, I shall always keep the conveniency to meet you there."

310 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
steel at one end and a hammer at the other," vowed
that if she would not unsay what she said of his
marriage with the false widow Deleau he would slit
her nose off ! According to the Articles against
him in the second case, FeUding " did beat and abuse
herein a most barbarous and cruel way." He also
sent for Mary Wadsworth, whose real identity he
had now discovered, to meet him at the lodge at
Whitehall, also caUed WhitehaU Gate. What hap
pened here is described by one of the subsequent
witnesses as foUows : " Mr. FeUding came to White
haU Gate in a chariot, he Ut out of it. There was a
hackney-coach brought two women ; one of these
women got out of the coach and came up to Mr
Feilding. Mr. Feilding caUed her ' Bitch.' The lady
caUed him ' Rogue ' and said she was his lawful wife.
At that, Mr Feilding having a stick, he punched it
at her ; it happened upon her mouth and made her
teeth bleed. He ordered the sentry to keep her till
he was gone, and he would give him a crown." It
was in revenge for this brutality that Mary Wads
worth and Mrs. Villars paid that visit to the Duke of
Grafton of which we have already heard, and so revealed
the true state of affairs to the Duke's grandmother.
After some other people, including the real Mrs.
Deleau, had been put into the box to establish the
case for the prosecution, Boucher, Feilding's man
at the time of the two weddings, was examined.
From his evidence, given in true valet style and
wonderfully modern in its ring, in spite of the
two hundred years which have elapsed since these

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 311
events took place, it appeared that soon after No
vember 25th he " understood by some of the Duchess
of Cleveland's servants that Mr. Feilding was married
to my Lady Duchess." Yet " about or on the 5th
of December, says he, ' Boucher, get my lodgings
in order again, for I expect Mrs. ViUars and the lady
to be there ' ; which accordingly I did. I was sent
from the Duchess of Cleveland's with his night
gown, cap, and slippers. Mrs. Villars and the lady
came accordingly that night, and had a boiled chicken
for supper." The lady stayed the night and went away
next morning in a hackney-coach. This was the
last time Boucher saw her at his master's lodgings.
There is much that is amusing in the course of
examination of the various minor witnesses, but
considerations of space do not permit the quotation
here of what is outside the limits of our story. Two
short passages, however, may be permitted to intrude.
Mrs. Martin, sister of Mrs. Heath, Feilding's Pall
MaU landlady, was called to corroborate the circum
stances of the Wadsworth wedding, having been
present in the house at the time. The following
dialogue occurred :
Counsel : " Did you ever see any body come
whilst they were there, in an extraordinary habit, red
gown, &c. ? "
Mrs. Martin : " There was a tall man knocked at
the door in a long gown, blue facing, and fur cap, with
a long beard."
Counsel : " Do you remember the supper that night ? "
Mrs. Martin : " I remember a dish of pickles."

312 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
May we be allowed to wonder why ?
Mrs. Heath herself, who said that Major-General
Feilding took lodgings at her house " about the
beginning of October last was a twelve-month,"
when asked whether she had heard or believed that
Feilding and Mary Wadsworth were married, replied :
" I did not believe it was a marriage but a conversion ;
because his man came down into the parlour and
asked for salt and water and rosemary ; which oc
casioned these words. ' Lord,' said I, ' I fancy they
are making a convert of this woman ' ; because they
said it was a priest above."
When it came to Feilding's turn to defend him
self, he rested his case upon two points ; first, the
bad character and untrustworthiness of Mrs. ViUars ;
and second, that Mrs. Wadsworth was married before,
to one Bradby — a Fleet marriage. When he produced
his witnesses, the counsel for the prosecution rephed
that they had no occasion to defend Mrs. ViUars's
reputation, which they did not pretend was very
good. They could, indeed, hardly do that, seeing that
she had been in the BrideweU on one occasion. But
they insisted that Feilding had been imposed on and
had married Mary Wadsworth. As for his plea
of an earUer marriage on her part, they pointed
out that all he had adduced was a register-book
from the Fleet, in which the supposed marriage
with Bradby was entered in a different hand from
the rest of the entries ; no Bradby, no witnesses
to the ceremony, and not even the writer of the
entry ! Great use was made of Feilding's own letters

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 313
(far from decent, it may be remarked) to " Anne
Countess of Feilding " at Waddon — Anne being
the Christian name of Mrs. Deleau, whom he believed
Mary Wadsworth to be.
Mr. Justice Powel, at the end of a long summing
up, made the following remarks to the jury : " Gentle
men, it is a very great charge upon Mr. Feilding,
it is true, if there be evidence to maintain it. It
does not really depend upon Mrs. Villars's evidence ;
for if her evidence were to stand alone no credit
should be given to it. But as it is supported by con
curring evidence, I leave it with you whether it be
not sufficient to find Mr. Feilding guilty. But if
you think that Mrs. Wadsworth's marriage to Bradby
is proved sufficiently, then although you think Mr.
Feilding's marriage with Mrs. Wadsworth sufficiently
proved, yet you are to find for the defendant."
The jury having withdrawn for some time brought
in FeUding guilty of the felony of which he stood
indicted. Hereupon it is added in Cases of Divorce :
" Mr. Feilding (in case he was found guilty) had
obtained the Queen's warrant to suspend execution
of the sentence ; and then by his counsel took ex
ception to the indictment, and moved in arrest of
judgment ; but they were answered by the Council
for the Queen. But Mr. Feilding having obtained
a suspension of the execution, the judges, by a cur
advisare vult (as the form is) suspended giving judg
ment till the next sessions, and accepted bail of Mr.
Feilding then and there to appear."
At the next sessions Feilding's counsel waived

314 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
their exception, and on his being asked what he had
to say why the Court should not proceed to judgment
he " craved the benefit of his clergy." x Then judg
ment was given, the usual penalty being imposed,
which was that he should be burnt in his hand.
As, however, Feilding had the Queen's warrant to
suspend execution, he was admitted to bail. The
cruel sentence was never carried out, Queen Anne
exercising her clemency and pardoning him. Possibly
she thought that he had suffered enough for his
offence in being dragged into such unpleasant pub
licity at the Old Bailey. Moreover, there was stiU
pending against him the other suit brought by the
Duchess. The proceedings in Doctors Commons resulted
in sentence of the Court being read on May 23rd,
1707. There were present at the reading the Dukes
of Northumberland and Grafton, the Earls of Lich
field, Sussex, Jersey, etc., to see the triumph of the
vindictive old lady over the Beau. The sentence
was to the effect that Robert FeUding and Mary
Wadsworth, being free from all contract and promise
of marriage with any other when they contracted
and solemnised marriage on November 9th, 1705,
were man and wife ; that, Robert Feilding not having
the fear of God before his eyes and having on No
vember 25th, 1705, contracted a pretended marriage
with the most noble lady, Barbara Duchess of Cleve-
1 " The privilege of exemption from the sentence which, in the case
of certain offences, might be pleaded on his first conviction by every
one who could read." — Oxford English Dictionary.

THE DUCHESS AND BEAU FEILDING 315
land, this pretended marriage or rather show of
marriage was, from the beginning, void and of no
force in law ; and that therefore the said most noble
lady " was and is free from any bond of marriage
with the said Robert Feilding, and had and hath
the liberty and freedom of marrying with any other
person." Two days later Feilding renounced all right of
appeal from the sentence, " for," as he wrote to his
proctor, " I shall proceed no farther therein." One
might have thought that the Duchess would now
rest content ; but she claimed that the Court should
deliver up to her a gold ring (the posy ring, with the
motto Tibi soli, with which Feilding had wedded the
supposed Anne Deleau) and the seven letters addressed
to " the Countess of Feilding." Why she should
have these is not evident. Nevertheless, the Court
assented, and ring and letters were handed over to
Her Grace. Possibly her thirst for vengeance was now
at last satisfied. At any rate, she troubled Feilding
no more. He survived her about three years, but
never recovered from the blow she had dealt him.
The memoir of him in Cases of Divorce for Several
Causes denies the Tatler' s " conclusion of his venting
his dolors in a garret," saying that " his fortune never
threw him so low as to be obliged to mount so very
high in his abode." Nevertheless it admits that
" from this time the affairs of our heroe declined
from bad to worse, till at last his creditors were
pleased to bring their actions upon him, against
which his only refuge remained of putting himself

316 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
into the Fleet, where the scene changed from gaUantry
to drunkery, which soon brought him to his end."
" Drunkery," it appears from the same authority,
had never been a vice of the Beau's in early Ufe.
Drink and gambling alike he had avoided.
FeUding did not die in the Fleet prison. He suc
ceeded in compounding with his creditors, and went
to live in lodgings in Scotland Yard — doubtless the
garret to which the Tatler refers — until his death
on May 12th, 1 71 2. His chief consolation at the
end of his life was a reconcUiation with Mary Wads
worth. He left her the sole executrix of his will,
caUing her " my dear and loving wife Mary FeUding,"
and devised to her nearly the whole of what remained
of his estate, while to his brother, nephew, and two
married sisters he left a shUling apiece.
At the end of a work entitled An Historical Account
of the Life, Birth, Parentage, and Conversation of that
celebrated Beau, Handsome Fealding is to be found an
" epitaph ", which may be quoted as an example of
what some thought humorous in those days : —
" If F— g is Dead,
And lies under this Stone,
That he is not alive,
You may bet two to one ;
But if he's alive,
And do's not lie here,
Let him live till he's hang'd,
For no Man do's care."

CHAPTER XVI
LAST YEARS AND DEATH
AS the result of the FeUding trial, the Duchess
of Cleveland, at the age of sixty-six, was
declared free from any bond of marriage with the
Beau and at liberty to marry again. But Her Grace
is not recorded to have shown any inclination to
try her fortune a third time. Perhaps at last even
she felt it to be time to rest. She withdrew from the
heart of town, and retired to the then quiet Middlesex
village of Chiswick, taking with her the little Charles
Hamilton, her doubly illegitimate grandson. Strange
to say, of aU the children who had the fortune or
misfortune to be brought up by her, with the ex
ception of Charlotte Countess of Lichfield, Charles
HamUton was the only one to do her credit. On
his grandmother's death he was sent to France and
put under the care of Charles, Earl of Middleton,
whom James II had made Secretary of State be
fore the Revolution and, after reappointing him to
that post in exile, created shortly before his own death
Earl of Monmouth. As has been said, Hamilton was
with his father at the fatal duel with Mohun in 1712.
Indeed he himself crossed swords on the occasion
with MacCartney, Mohun's second, and was arrested
317

318 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
and made one of the principal witnesses at Mohun's
trial. On his release from Newgate, after a vain
attempt to obtain satisfaction from MacCartney,
whom he accused of foul play against his father,
he took up his residence permanently abroad, where
he bore the title of the Count of Arran, and devoted
himself to literature. He married and had a son,
caUed like himself Charles Hamilton, who wrote
from notes collected by his father a work entitled
Transactions during the Reign of Queen Anne.
With this grandchild, then, the Duchess of Cleveland
went to Chiswick. Here she spent the last two years
of her life. Researches into the question of her place
of abode there have not succeeded in proving con
clusively where it was. The Rev. L. W. T. Dale,
who was vicar of Chiswick at the time when Steinman
was writing his Memoir, could find no record of her
residence in the church rate-books, so that apparently
she could only have been the occupier of a furnished
house. In the years 1723-8 the Duke of Cleveland
and Southampton (Charles Fitzroy, on her death,
added her title to his own) figures as a contributor
to the church-rates to the extent of 30s., from which
it seems as if he continued the occupancy of his
mother's house. Mr. Dale favoured Walpole House,
which is still standing in the Mall at Chiswick, as the
home of the Duchess.
Before the time when Mr. Dale communicated his
suggestion to the author of the Memoir of Barbara
Duchess of Cleveland, aU connection of the famous
lady with Walpole House seems to have been for-

From a photograph by Emery Walker, after apainting by Sir Godfrey Kneller
in tl<e National Portrait Gallery

BARBARA VILLIERS, COUNTESS OF CASTLEMAINE
AND DUCHESS OF CLEVELAND

LAST YEARS AND DEATH 319
gotten. Faulkner in his History and Antiquities of
Brentford, Ealing, and Chiswick, published in 1845,
merely says of the place : " Walpole House on the
MaU takes its name from having been the residence
of the noble family of that name, several members of
whom are buried in the church. About sixty years
ago it was occupied by Mrs. Rigby as a boarding-
house, and here Mr. Daniel O'Connell resided for
several years whUst he was studying for the bar.
This family mansion has lately been put into a state
of repair, and is now occupied by Mr. AUen as a
classical and commercial academy."
Walpole House has been identified with the Misses
Pinkerton's select establishment for young ladies in
Vanity Fair, although in Thackeray's description
extraneous features have been introduced which are
not to be traced in the original. Had Thackeray
known of the notorious Duchess's residence in the
place, could he have housed those chaste scholastic
ladies there ? — particularly when, as a modern writer,
Mr. Allan Fea, teUs us, the ghost of Her Grace is
supposed still to haunt the house !
There is little more to be told about the old
Duchess of Cleveland. At Chiswick she lived without
any scandal that has come down to us. When she
moved thither she was about the same age as Catherine
the Great of Russia when she died, and she may be
said to have shown herself fully a peer of that ab
normal woman — who like her was branded with the
name of " Messalina " — on the infamous side of her
character. Catherine remained a victim of her

320 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
extraordinary mania to the last. In the case of Barbara
there is no evidence. Her presence at Court to kiss
Queen Anne's hand in December 1705 argues a
certain acquired respectability at the age of sixty-six,
but we hear of no repentant death-bed such as her
rivals of Portsmouth and Mazarin made. In fact,
though she would have been an interesting penitent,
no one apparently took the trouble to record any
thing at aU about her death-bed except Boyer, and
his account is meagre. Having referred to the Feilding
case, he says :
" The Duchess, having lived about two years
after this, at length fell ill of a dropsie, which swelled
her gradually to a monstrous bulk and in about three
months' time put a period to her life, at her house at
Cheswick, in the county of Middlesex, in the 69th
year of her age."
The actual date of the death was Sunday, October
9th. The funeral took place at Chiswick parish church
four days after, being carried out by the Duke of
Grafton " in a manner privately," Boyer says. The
same writer gives the names of the pall-bearers as
" the Dukes of Ormond and Hamilton, the Earls of
Essex and Grantham, the Earl of Lisford and the
Lord Berkley of Stratton."
The choice of pall-bearers seems rather curious.
James, second Duke of Ormonde, was the grandson
of Barbara's old opponent, whom she had in her
rage hoped to see hanged. Hamilton was her
illegitimate son-in-law, if we may so call him.

LAST YEARS AND DEATH 321
Algernon Capel, second Earl of Essex, inherited
his title as eldest surviving son of the man who
left the Treasury in 1679 rather than pay the
£25,000 claimed from it by the Duchess of Cleve
land. Grantham — Henry d'Auverquerque, son of a
naturalised Dutchman who fought under the Prince
of Orange — must have owed his acquaintance with
her to the young Ormonde, whose sister, Lady
Henrietta Butler, he married. By the Earl of " Lis
ford " Boyer appears to mean Frederic William de
Roye de la Rochefoucauld, one of William's supporters
at the Battle of the Boyne, and created by him Earl
of Lifford in the Irish peerage. His connection with
the Duchess of Cleveland cannot be traced. As for
Lord Berkeley of Stratton — WiUiam the fourth Baron,
who succeeded to his father's title after both his elder
brothers had borne it in turn — he, like Ormonde and
Essex, might have been supposed to have hereditary
reasons for hostUity rather than friendship toward
her late Grace ; for we have seen how she and the
first Baron had been at variance about a large sum of
money. With Barbara, however, as with many of her
kind, enmity was usually a caprice. She could be a
most bitter foe for a moment, and then forget and
forgive. Only against Clarendon and Southampton
does she seem to have cherished a lifelong hatred ;
and their attitude made aU approach impossible.
By her wiU, which was dated August nth, 1709,
the Duchess of Cleveland made her grandson the
Duke of Grafton residuary legatee. She had but
Uttle to leave except her property at Nonsuch.

322 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
This went to Charles Fitzroy together with her title
of Cleveland. In 1722 the Duke sold the remains of
Nonsuch, already ruined by his mother soon after she
acquired it. With the alienation of this property, the
extinction of the Cleveland and Southampton peerage
on the death of Charles's son William in 1774, an(^ ^
puUing down of Cleveland House in the middle of last
century, disappeared the last visible traces of the mul
titudinous gifts to his mistress from King Charles II.
The Duchess was buried in Chiswick Church,
but her tomb is unknown, as no stone was raised to
mark the place. Perhaps her descendants thought
that no monument was required beyond the memory
of her name which is preserved in literature. And
who can say that they were wrong ? Barbara ViUiers
is scarcely likely to be forgotten while the combination
of a face of eminent beauty and the heart of an utter
rake has any attraction for weak mankind.

NOTES

Page 1, line 3. In a poem entitled A Faithful Catalogue of our most
Eminent Ninnies (1686).
Page 1, line 6. Burnet, History of My Own Time, Supplement
published in 1902, p. 65. Miss H. C. Foxcroft, who edits the
Supplement, assigns this fragment to the year 1683.
P. 1, 1. 11. Some sentences of this passage in the History are
quoted elsewhere. For the benefit of those who are not familiar with
it, however, it is here given in full : " The ruin of his reign, and of
all his affairs, was occasioned chiefly by his delivering himself up at
his first coming over to a mad range of pleasure. One of the race of
the Villiers, then married to Palmer, a papist, soon after made earl
of Castlemaine, who' afterwards, being separated from him, was
advanced to be duchess of Cleveland, was his first and longest mistress,
by whom he had five children. She was a woman of great beauty,
but most enormously vicious and ravenous, foolish but imperious, ever
uneasy to the king, and always carrying on intrigues with other men,
while yet she pretended she was jealous of him. His passion for her,
and her strange behaviour towards him, did so disorder him, that often
he was not master of himself, nor capable of minding business, which,
in so critical a time, required great application ; but he did then so
entirely trust the earl of Clarendon that he left all to his care, and
submitted to his advices as to so many oracles." — 1897 edition,
Vol. I, pp. 168-9.
P. 2, 1. 23. Letter of June 25th, 1745, in Clarendon Press
edition of JValpoIe's Letters (1905), Vol. II, p. 108.
P. 2, 1. 29. We should perhaps add Boyer, who, in his obituary
notice of the Duchess of Cleveland in Annals of Queen Anne's Reign,
after speaking of her beauty, says : " Her other qualities of good
nature, liberality, &c, we shall not here expatiate upon." He has,
however, just called her "this second Messalina."
P. 3, 1. 13. Reported from Pope's conversation, in Spence's
Anecedetes. 323

324 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 6, 1. 24. Clarendon, History of the Rebellion (1826 edn.), VII,
151-2. P. 7, I. 23. Aubrey, History of Surrey, I, 47.
P. 13,!. 19. Letters of Philip, Second Earl of Chesterfield (1829),
pp. 77-81.
P. 14, 1. 22. Ib., 86.
P. i;,1.9, Ib.,8y.
P. 16,1.4. Ib., 88.
P. 17, 1. 5. Pepys, Diary, March 19th, 1665, and April 6th,
1668, has even worse to tell of the lady. And Cosmo de' Medici,
when he visited England in March 1 669, wrote in a letter to a friend :
" I am truly not the man to be taken by the charms of a Lady
Carnegie [that was then her title], nor could I ever submit to participate
in such widely distributed favours."
This same Cosmo de' Medici admired Lady Castlemaine sufficiently
to commission Lely to paint her portrait, along with those of three
other Caroline beauties, to be sent to his home in Tuscany. Later he
had a collection of sixteen pictures of beautiful English womeii. The
Historical MSS. Commission, Report 12, Appendix, Part g, mentions
among the MSS. of Mr. R. W. Ketton an unsigned one headed
"Concerning Florence" and dated October 3rd, 1693. In this the
writer speaks of seeing the sixteen pictures at the Poggio Imperiale.
" The Dutchess of Cleaveland's," he says, " obscured all the rest."
P. 17, 1. 6. Letters, 88-9.
P. 17, 1. 20. lb., 90.
P. 18,1. 3. Ib., 93.
P. 18, 1.9. Ik, 93-4.
P. 1 8, 1. 1 2. " Cromwell and his partisans " had " shut up and
seiz'd on Spring Garden, which till now had been the usual rendezvous
for the ladys and gallants at this season." — Evelyn, Diary, May 10th,
1654. With regard to Hyde Park, Mr. Wheatley, in his edition of
Pepys, notes that in 1656 there was published a work entitled "The
Yellow Book, or a serious letter sent by a private Christian to the
Lady Consideration the first of May 1656, which she is desired to
communicate in Hide Park to the Gallants of the Times a little after
sunset " !
P. 18, 1. 29. Letters, 91.
P. 19, 1. 10. Ib., 92.

NOTES 325
P. 19, 1. 22. lb., 96-7. Chesterfield calls her Lady Essex ; but,
as a matter of fact, Lord Capel, her husband, was not Earl of Essex
until 1661.
P. 20, 1. 7. Letters, 99.
P. 20, 1. 31. Ib., prefatory memoir, p. 19.
P. 22, 1. 1. The capital letters with which Boyer and his con
temporaries garnish their writings will usually be omitted from hence
forward. P. 24, 1. 12. It is from the locality of this, probably the bride's
parish church, that Lord Anglesea's house is placed in the neighbour
hood of Ludgate Hill, which fits in well with the appointment made
by the two girls in their letter to Chesterfield on p. 17.
P. 24, 1. 1 6. Jesse, Memoirs of the Court of England during the
Reign of the Stuarts, IV, 85.
P. 24, 1. 31. Memoirs ofthe Court of Charles II by Count Gramont,
chap. vi.
P. 26,1. 13. Letters, 102-3.
P. 27, 1. 8. Ib., 103.
P. 27, 1. 28. Ib., 104.
P. 28, 1. 17. Or January i6|$, as it is written to show that at
this time the year was still commonly reckoned to begin on March
25th, although many persons already made January ist the first day,
as Mr. Wheatley points out that Pepys did. See his first footnote
to the text of the Diary.
P. 28, 1. 25. In Rugge's Diurnal, which gives an account of the
duel. P. 29, 1. 5. Letters, 105-6.
P. 29,1. 15. Ib., 1 12-13. " The newse I have from England
concerning your ladyship makes me doubt of everything ; and therefore
let me entreate you to send mee your picture," etc. This news from
England cannot have been, as the editor of the Chesterfield Letters
supposes, " respecting the intimate connection between herself and
King Charles " — unless the news came from Holland via England
and referred to that meeting between Barbara and Charles of which
Jesse and Mrs. Jameson speak.
P. 29, 1. 29. Jesse, Memoirs, IV, 85.
P. 30, 1. 18. Mrs. M. A. Everett Green, Calendar of State 'Papers,
Domestic Series, 1660-1661, p. 104.

326 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 30, 1. 25. Diary, May 16th, 1660.
P. 31, 1. 7. Pepys certainly speaks as if the King only gained
his way with the lady later. From the similarity of language it seems
that Boyer, writing his obituary of the Duchess of Cleveland after her
death in 1709, must have had the Williamite tract of 1690 before
his eyes. Boyer says : " Whatever shews of piety this Prince made
at Breda, in order to impose upon some Presbyterian divines that
attended him there, it was confidently affirm'd that this lady was
prepar'd for his bed the very first night he lay at Whitehall." The
Secret History, p. 22, says : " Soon after he arrived in England, where
he was received with all the pomp and splendour and all the demon
strations of joy that a nation could express, but then, as if he had left
all his piety behind him in Holland, care was taken against the very
first night that His Sacred Majesty was to lie at Whitehall to have the
Lady Castlemain seduc'd from her loyalty to her husband and entic'd
into the arms of the happily restored Prince."
P. 32, 1. 24. Continuation ofthe Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon
(1827), I, pp. 353, 357-8.
P. 34, 1. 4. Calendar of State Tapers {Domestic) 1 661-1662,
p. 165. Another petition from Roger Palmer, dated March ?, 1662,
asks for "the reversion after George, Earl of Norwich, and Hen.
Wynne, of the secretaryship of the business and affairs of Wales,
mortgaged by the Earl for ^£2 3,000, which debt was sold to the
petitioner " (lb., p. 303).
P. 35, 1. 10. Diary, October 14th, 1660.
P. 35, 1. 19. Camden Society Publications, No. 39 (New Series),
p. 26.
P. 36, 1. 5. In an address to the London Topographical Society
on May 6th, 191 1, Lord Welby discussed the site of the Cockpit,
which, he said, formed a very important part of the " sporting ap
paratus " of Whitehall Palace and therefore gradually gave its name
to the adjacent buildings. He assigned its location to the site now
chiefly occupied by the rooms of the Permanent and Financial Secre
taries of the Treasury. During the interregnum first Cromwell and
then Monk had their apartments in the Cockpit buildings.
P. 37, 1. 11. Lord Dartmouth, in his annotations to Burnet's
History of My Own Time, speaks of " the late Countess of Sussex,
whom the King adopted for his daughter, though Lord Castlemaine
always looked upon her to be his, and left her his estate when he died,
but she was generally understood to belong to another, the old Earl of
Chesterfield, whom she resembled very much both in face and person."

NOTES 327
P. 37, 1. 20. Letters, 1 16-18.
P. 40, 1. 1. Quoted by G. S. Steinman, Memoir of Barbara
Duchess of Cleveland, p. 28.
P. 42, 1. 13. Burnet, History, Supplement, pp. 65-6.
P. 42, 1. 22. Clarendon, Continuation, II, 172.
P. 43, 1. 12. Ib., II, 177.
P. 43, 1. 29. A curious light is thrown upon the lady's opinion, a
few years later, of the value of Irish peerages. In a letter in the
collection of Sir R. Graham, dated February 20th, 1665, a certain
George Walsh writes : " Ralph Sheldon . . . would marry Mrs.
Win Wells provided the King would make him an Irish Viscount,
which I suppose will not be denied, for (according to the Lady
Castlemaine's estimation) that honour is not valued at above 1000/."
H. M. C, Rep. 6, App.
P. 44, 1. 6 . Boyer, Annals of Queen Anne's Reign, obituary of
Lord Castlemaine.
P. 44, footnote. Continuation, II, 171.
P. 47, 1. 27. Chesterfield Letters, prefatory memoir, p. 21.
P. 48, L 7. Letters, 123.
P. 49, 1. 3. Lord Dartmouth's note on Burnet, History, I, part 2,
p. 307. Legge, according to his son, never approved of the match.
P. 49, 1. 6. Jesse, Memoirs, III, 387^, collects some interesting
and amusingly diverse descriptions of Catherine of Braganza, the
cruellest being Lord Dartmouth's : " She was very short and broad,
of a swarthy complexion, one of her fore-teeth stood out, which held
up her upper lip ; had some very nauseous distempers, besides ex
ceedingly proud and ill-favoured."
P. 49, 1. 14. Continuation, II, 165. The remaining quotations in
this chapter from Clarendon are all from the following pages of the
Continuation, and the references will therefore be omitted.
P. 51, 11. 1-6. Evelyn, May 30th, 1662 ; Pepys, May 25th, 1662.
P. 52, 1. 23. Boyer, in his obituary notice of the Earl (Annals,
July 1705), explicitly states that he was "bred a Protestant" and
only turned Roman Catholic after "the misfortunes of his bed."
Burnet, as we have seen, calls him " Palmer, a papist," as if he had
always been one.
P. 57, I. 19. This letter appears in Lister's Life of Clarendon,
111,193.

328 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 58, 1. 10. Letter of January 18th, 1681.
P. 61, 1. 16. Lansdowne MSS., 1236.
P. 70, I. 13. Steinman, Memoir, p. 205, from the Dorney Court
Muniments. P. 74, 1. 33. Diary, July 26th, 1662.
P. 78, 1. 14. That is to say, unless he was really son of Colonel
Robert Sidney, as many people believed, including apparently Evelyn.
P. 79, 1. 8. Continuation,!!, 252-3.
P. 79, 1. 15. Pepys, Diary, December 24th, 31st, 1662. On
October 27th Pepys believes "the Duke of York will not be fooled
in this of three crowns."
P. 79, 1. 17. Ib., September 21st, 1662.
P. 80, 1. 7. Ib., October 6th, 1662.
P. 80, 1. 9. Ib., November 3rd, 1662.
P. 80, footnote. For one opinion of the real source of Berkeley's
greatness see Pe^iys, Diary, December 15th, 1662.
P. 81, 1. 2. Continuation, II, 230.
P. 81, 1. 10. Diary, October 24th, 1662.
P. 81, 1. 22. Diary, October 31st, 1662.
P. 81, footnote. Letter of June 8th, 1665.
P. 82, 1. 11. Ib., December 15th, 1662.
P. 82, 1. 13. Life of the Dukj of Ormonde, edition of 185 1, IV,
p. 368. Carte's work was first published in 1735-6.
P. 85, 1. 9. This letter from Cominges was first published by
Lord Braybrooke in the Appendix to his edition of Pepys's Diary.
Concerning Cominges, see M. J. J. Jusserand, A French Ambassador at
the Court of Charles II.
P. 85, 1. 21. Diary, March 7th, 1663.
P. 86, 1. 12. History, Supplement, p. 73.
P. 87, 1. 8. Diary, January 19th, 1663.
P. 87, 1. 30. Hatton Correspondence, I, 64. The editor, Sir E.
Maunde Thompson, finds the story itself unsuitable for publication.
P. 89, 1. 24. Pepys repeats the expression on December 26th,
1667, when Frances, now Duchess of Richmond, was expected back
at Court.

NOTES 329
P. 90, 1. 6. Diary, February 17th, 1663.
P. 90, 1. 18. Letter of January 4th, 1663.
P. 91, 1. 2. Pepys, Diary, February 25th, 1667. Cp. Allan
Fea, Some Beauties of the Seventeenth Century, pp. 92-3. Mr. Fea
points out that on the copper coins of Charles II Britannia reveals
much of her leg ; and Frances Stewart was proud of her legs !
P. 91, 1. 5. Ruvigny to Louis XIV, June 25th, 1663.
P. 92, 1. 20. Diary, March ist, 1663.
P. 92, 1. 22. lb., April 4th, 1663.
P. 92, 1. 30. Gramont Memoirs, chap. xi.
P. 94, 1. 2. Diary, May nth, 1663.
P. 94, 1. 27. lb., May 2nd, 1664. Cp. in the entry for May
29th : " Mrs. Stewart, very fine and pretty, but far beneath my
Lady Castlemaine."
P. 97, 1. 1. Ib., July 22nd, 1663.
P. 97, 1. 15. Ib., May 10th, 1663.
P. 98, 1. 7. Ib., November 6th, 1663.
P. 100, 1. 1. The waters sont vitriolees et par consequent excitent le
vomissement, according to Cominges' Court news-sheet sent to Louis in
August, 1663, quoted by M. Jusserand in the Appendix to his French
Ambassador. But Burr, a hundred years later (An Historical Account of
Tunbridge Wells, p. 72), declares their taste " pleasingly steely."
P. 100, 1. 12. Diary, August nth, 1663.
P. 102, 1. 3. Pepys, Diary, February 8th, 1663. Oneof Captain
Ferrers' choice stories actually hints at this,
P. 102, 11. 17^. Wood, Life and Times (edited by A. Clark), I,
49 1 fif. Wood, after describing how the Mayor's Council discussed
the reception of the royal visitors, writes : " [They determined] after
that was done to present the Queene with the richest pair of gloves
that could be made ; then a payre of gloves for the Duke of York and
his dutchess ; then another paire to the . . ." Here follows a blank.
Mr. Clark says it was suggested to him that the words to be supplied
are " Countess of Castlemaine," or " King's mistress " : but he inclines,
no doubt rightly, to the more charitable view that Wood had not been
given the list of nobles to whom gloves were to be presented by the
City. In his description of the presentation, Wood again writes :
" Then the maior presented to the Queen a paire of rich gloves, and to
. . .", with the same blank in the MS.

330 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 103, 1. 8. See Mr. Clark's note on Wood, I, 494.
P. 103, 1. 27. Diary, October 13th, 1663.
P. 103, 1. 28. This was a not unfrequent occurrence at Whitehall.
On December 7 th of this same year Pepys tells of the greatest tide
that was ever known in the Thames the night before and of " all
Whitehall having been drowned."
P. 104, 1. 9. Diary, October 20th, 1663.
P. 104, 1. 17. Letter of October 17th, 1663, quoted by Lord
Braybrooke in his note on Pepys, October 17th, 1663.
P. 104, 1. 18. Chap. vm.
P. 105, 1. 9. Jusserand, Appendix, pp. 220-1, where this letter
from Cominges to Louis is dated November ist, 1663. According to
Lord Braybrooke it is dated October 25-29. Pepys on October 19th
speaks of Catherine having " the extreme unction given her by the
priests, who were so long about it that the doctors were angry " ; and
by October 24th " the Queen is in a good way of recovery."
P. 105, 1. 24. Diary, October 20th, 1663.
P. 106, 1. 19. Ib., October 26th, 27th, 1663.
P. 107, 1. 8. Ib., November 6th, 1663.
P. 107, 1. 19. Ib., November 9th, 1663.
P. 108, 1. 16. Cominges to Lionne, December 31st, 1663, quoted
in Jusserand, Appendix, p. 224.
P. 109, 1.7. " Miss of State." Cp. Evelyn, Diary, January 9th,
1662 : "The Earle of Oxford's (Misse (as at this time they began to
call lewd women)."
P. 109, 1. 14. The " great Stillingfleete " of Pepys, Diary, April
16th, 1665. Oldmixon, who tells this story in his Critical History of
England (1730), II, 276, anticipates events by making Stillingfleet
already Dean of St. Paul's, and Barbara already Duchess of Cleveland.
P. 109, 1. 23. Letter of April 17th, 1664, quoted by Jusserand,
p. 118.
P. no, 1. 20. Pepys, Diary, February 8th, 1664. On July 10th
it is recorded that Lady Castlemaine gives Lord Sandwich her
portrait—" and a most beautiful picture it is."
P. no, 1. 27. Diary, April ist, 1664. But contrast what is said
on July 15 th. Pepys seems to think that Frances Stewart is one whose
beauty varies with her dress.

NOTES 331
P. no, 1. 29. Ib., February ist, 1664.
P. 111, 1. 12. H.M.C. Rep. 6., App. MSS. of Sir Henry lngilby.
P. 1 1 2, 1. 1 7. Steinman, in his Memoir of Barbara Duchess of Cleve
land, argues the case well for the change of apartments. He places
the first set in that part of Whitehall Palace buildings which is
" separated from the main buildings by ' the street,' a connecting link
between King Street and Whitehall . . . and enclosed at either end
by a gate " ; i.e. in the Cockpit buildings, on ground now covered by the
Treasury. It is here that in Vertue's map of 1747, based on John
Fisher's survey of 1680, is marked "Countess of Castlemain's
kitchen." It may be noted that this site does not answer very well to
Pepys's " chamber in Whitehall next the King's own " (Diary, April
25th, 1663, as quoted on p. 93 above), for not only "the street," but
also the Privy Garden separated the Cockpit buildings from those in
which the King and Queen lived ; but perhaps we must treat Pepys's
description as merely a loose one. As for the apartments over " the
hither-gate," there is no doubt as to situation of the Holbein gate
house at the northern end of " the street " opening into Whitehall,
close to the modern Horse Guards. Steinman writes (Second Addenda,
p. 2) : " That it had now fallen to the use of Lady Castlemaine is
clearly shown, and this fact goes far to assure us that she had sometime
before removed from her original suite of apartments on the west side
of the Street to those of her northern neighbour, whence, we may
readily believe, it might be approached by her Ladyship without
venturing her fair person in the air."
We cannot, however, feel sure : (1) that Lady Castlemaine did not
occupy the gatehouse apartments from the first, for it adjoined the
Cockpit buildings, and was only separated from the " kitchen " marked
in Vertue's map by one suite of lodgings marked " Duke of Ormond "
— and Ormonde was in Ireland from 1662 to 1669, so that his apart
ments might have been occupied by someone else; or (2) that the lady,
if she made a move early in 1664, was not before that actually in some
" chamber in Whitehall next the King's own," as Pepys says, that
is to say, east of the Privy Garden. The Duchess of Portsmouth
was later lodged on the east side " at the end of the gallery."
P. 113, 1. 28. In the possession of Mr. Ambrose Lee. It is
quoted by Allan Fea, Some Beauties of the Seventeenth Century,
p. 184.
P. 114, 1. 18. Cominges to Lionne, September 15th, 1664. Jus
serand, Appendix, 229.

332 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 117, 1. 4. From the Memoirs it appears that Gramont, when
dictating them, entirely forgot the year of his marriage, which he only
mentions in his last paragraph. This marriage had been assigned to
the year 1663, as Gramont's son was born on September 7th, 1664.
Within two months after the latter date he took wife and child to
France. On January 28th, 1665, Cominges tells Lionne that the
Chevalier has been in London again for two months and has become
le plus effronte menteur du monde. The wife's return is not mentioned,
though to be present at the Candlemas Day revel she must have come
back, at the latest, about the time when Cominges was writing to
Lionne. P. 118, 1. 4. Diary, September 9th, 1678, and elsewhere.
P. 118, 1. 17. Pepys, Diary, February 21st, 1665; Gramont
Memoirs, chap. x.
P. 118, 1. 27. Pepys, Diary, March 13th, 1665. Calendar of
State Papers (Domestic) reports on March 3rd, 1665, that Lord
Castlemaine has landed at Dover and gone to London.
P. 1 19, 1. 5. So Lady Sandwich told Pepys (Diary, February 21st,
1665). P. 120, footnote. Pepys, Diary, May 15th, 1663.
P. 121, 1. 4. See his instructions of April 4th, 1665, to la celebre
Ambassade, quoted in Jusserand, French Ambassador, Appendix, pp.
233-4. The ninth chapter of M. Jusserand's book is of great interest
on this period.
P. 122, 1. 2. "We do naturally love the Spanish and hate the
French," says Pepys, October 10th, 1661.
P. 122, 1. 7. Letter to Louis, April 23rd, 1665.
P. 123, 1. 9. Henry Savile to Lady Dorothy Savile, June, 1665
(Savile Correspondence).
P. 124, 1. 3. Bigorre to Lionne, July 9th, 1665 (Jusserand, Ap
pendix, 243).
P. 124, 1. 7. Courtin to Lionne, July 9th (Jusserand, App., 243)-
P. 125, 1. 17. H.M.C. Rep. 14, App., Pt. 2. Letter of October
2nd, 1665.
P. 125, 1. 25. Letter to Lionne, August 30th, 1665.
P. 125, 1. 31. Concerning this royal visit to Oxford see Mr.
A. Clark's edition of Wood's Life and Times and the Hon. G. C.
Brodrick's Memorials of Merton College.

NOTES 333
P. 127, 1. 2. Continuation, II, 450.
P. 130, 1. 10. Ib., Ill, 61.
P. 132,1. 14. Ib., Ill, 60.
P. 133,1- 15- lb., Ill, 6 1-2.
P. 133, 1. 20. " Mr. May," i.e. Baptist or Bab May, of whom we
shall hear again.
P. 134, 1. 14. Steinman (Second Addenda, p. 4) discovered that the
£2000 incurred for these rings was among the £30,000 worth of
debts paid for Lady Castlemaine by the King at the end of this year.
Concerning the huge transactions between Bakewell and the King see
Mr. Wheatley's note on Pepys, Diary, July nth, 1665.
P. 134, 1. 16. Calendar of State Papers (Domestic), 1666, uncertain
month, petition of John Leroy. In September Leroy petitions again
for the money, saying that he has had great losses by the burning of his
house in the Fire.
P. 136, 1. 36. Letter quoted in Savile Correspondence, p. 301 n.
P. 138, 1. 4. Calendar of State Papers (Domestic), May 23rd, 1666.
P. 138, 1. 23. Evelyn, Diary, September 6th, 7th, 1666.
P. 139, 1. 8. Pepys, Diary, September 26th, 1666.
P. 139, 1. 10. Evelyn, Diary, October 18th, 1666.
P. 140, 1. 24. Pierce's theory as to the lady's condition, however
(Pepys, October 1 5th, 1666), does not seem to have been correct. At
any rate, there was no child born that is ever heard of.
P. 141, 11. 24^ Pepys, Diary, March 20th, April 3rd, 1666.
P. 142, 1. 14. Penn, on March 18th, 1667, told Pepys that he had
that day brought in an account of Richmond's estate and debts to the
King. Evelyn gave Pepys " the whole story of Mrs. Stewart's coming
away from Court" on April 26th, 1667. Among other arguments
which Evelyn used to prove that Frances Stewart was honest to the last
was that founded on the King's keeping in with Lady Castlemaine,
"for he was never known to keep two mistresses in his life."
P. 143, 1. 8. Continuation, III, 228.
P. 143, 1. 31. Coke, A Detection of the Court and State of England
(17 19), pp. 155-6. Coke was himself in the Park on this day,
June 10th.
P. 144, 1. 22. Diary, June 24th, 1667.
P. 145, 1. 6. History, I, 169.

334 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 145, 1. 20. Diary, July 7th, 1667.
P. 146, 1. 3. Calendar, August 29th, 1667.
P. 146, 1. 31. Pepys, Diary, July 12th, 1667. He gets his in
formation from Sir H. Cholmly. Sir Thomas Crew confirms it the
same day.
P. 147,1.28. Diary, July 29th. Next day Mr. Cooling, my Lord
Chamberlain's secretary, being in drink, furnishes Pepys with still more
details, couched in most plain and vigorous language — part of the vigour
being due to Lady Castlemaine, who was no stickler in her talk.
Pierce's story is told by Pepys on August 7th.
P. 148, 1. 10. See, for example, Memoirs, chap. vi. Jermyn is
also the Germanicus of Mrs. Manley's New Atalantis.
P. 148, 1. 16. Diary, July 29th, 1667.
P. 149, 1. 1. lb. Pierce, on August 7th, also says that she "hath
nearly hectored him [the King] out of his wits."
P. 149, 1. 3. Pepys, Diary, July 30th, 1667.
P. 149,1. 5. In Epicene, or the Silent Woman.
P. 150, 1. 1. Continuation, III, 291 ff.
P. 1 51, 1. 20. lb., Ill, 294. Pepys hears the same story,
November nth, 1667.
P. 151,1. 28. Ib., Ill, 323.
P. 152, 1. 2. Diary, August 27th, 1667.
P. 152, 1. 7. Pepys, Diary, September 8th, nth. Part of this
tale was told by a Mr. Rawlinson, who had it from "one of my Lord
Chancellor's gentlemen."
P. 152, 1. 21. Carte, History of the Duke of Ormonde, IV, 152.
Carte says : " The Countess of Castlemaine, whose understanding bore
no proportion to her power, and who would have been able to do great
mischiefs if her egregious folly had not often defeated her measures,
was so outrageous in her opposition to the Chancellor that she openly
expressed her malice against him in all places, and did not scruple to
declare in the Queen's Chamber in the presence of much company that
she hoped to see his head upon a stake, to keep company with those of
the regicides on Westminster Hall. The occasion of this fury was that
he would never let anything pass the Great Seal in which she was
named, and often by his wise remonstrances prevailed with the King to
alter the resolutions which she had persuaded him to take."
P. 153, 1. 15. Sir Peter Pett to Antony Wood (? in 1693),
Aubrey's Letters of Eminent Men.

NOTES 335
P. 154, 1. 14. Pepys, Diary, September ist, 5th, 8th, 10th, 1667.
P. 157, 1. 11. In a letter to his sister, Duchess of Orleans, on
May 7th, 1668. On August 26th ofthe previous year he had written
to the same : " You may think me ill-natured, but if you consider how
hard a thing 'tis to swallow an injury done by a person I had so much
tendernesse for you will in some degree excuse the resentment I use
towards her."
P. 159, 1. 12. Pepys, Diary, March 7th, 1667. See Lord Bray-
brooke's instructive note there.
P. 160, 1. 26. Diary, April 7th, 1668.
P. 161, 11. 5, 8. Evelyn, April 2nd ; Pepys, April 6th, 1668.
P. 164, 1. 16. Pepys, Diary, February 14th, 1668.
P. 166, 1. 20. Ib., January 15th, 1669.
P. 1 68, footnote. //. M. C, Buccleugh and Queensberry MSS., Fol. I.
P. 175, footnote. Lettres sur la Cour de Louis XI V (1667-70),
with introduction and notes by Jean Lemoine.
P. 176, 1. ro. Charles declared his intention with regard to the
new honours for Lady Castlemaine and two of her sons more than a
month before this. See an amusing letter from Henshaw to Sir Robert
Paston, July 16th, 1670 (H.M.C., Rep. 6, App., Ingilby MSS.).
P. 176, 1. 18. Memoirs, chap. x.
P. 178, 1. 26. Evelyn, Diary, December 4th, 1696.
P. 179,1.3. Letters of Chesterfield, 159.
P. 179, 1. 27. History, I, 474.
P. 180, footnote. Lansdowne's Works, II, 173.
P. 181, 1. 3. Reresby, Memoirs, p. 81.
P. 182, 1. 5. H.M.C., Rep. 12, App., Pt. V. Lady Mary Bertie
to Katherine Noel, February 23rd, 1671.
P. 184, 1. 3. H.M.C., Rep. 5, App., Hatherton MSS.
P. 185, 1. 11. Carte, II, 152-3. It appears from Carte as if the
King's attempted grant of Phoenix Park to the lady was about 1663.
P. 187, 1. 1. Memoirs, chap. xi. Gramont goes on to say that
" this intrigue had become a general topic in all companies when the
Court arrived in London " from the West, and that "some said she had
already presented him with Jermyn's pension and Jacob Hall's salary."
Such chronology is very Gramontian.

336 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 187, I. 22. New Atalantis, I, 22.
P. i88,l. 10. Letter of November 18th, 1748.
P. 188, 1. 15. Burnet, History, I, 370.
P. 189, 1. 4. The fourth Lord Chesterfield, in the letter quoted
above, says that the Duchess of Cleveland, struck by Churchill's
graces, "gave him ^5000, with which he immediately bought an
annuity for his life of ^500 a year of my grandfather Halifax, which
was the foundation of his subsequent fortune." It appears that this
annuity Was bought in 1674 for ^4500, nine years' purchase being
Lord Halifax's usual price. (See Savile Correspondence.} Boyer, in
the obituary of the Duchess in his Annals of Queen Anne's Reign, speaks
of her "generous rewarding of the caresses of a handsome young
gentleman of the Court " with the sum of £6000, " which lay the
foundation of his after fortune." And Mrs. Manley in The New
Atalantis says that the Duchess gave 6000 crowns for a place in the
Prince of Tameran's (Duke of York's) Bedchamber for Count Fortu
natus (Churchill) and procured for him a rise in the Army, while
taking his " fair and fortunate sister " to attend on herself. Fortunatus
then persuaded her to have his sister transferred to the Princess of
Tameran's (Duchess of York's) household. Later he was given by the
Duchess of Cleveland 140,000 crowns in cash alone, besides having
honours and places of profit procured for him. It is with little sur
prise that we read Lord Somers's opinion of Marlborough, in answer to
Queen Anne's request for it, that he was " the worst man God ever
made" (Macpherson's History, Vol. VIII, Carte's Mem. Book). Cp.
what Macaulay says of the Duke's venality, Hist., chap. xiv.
P. 190,1. 20. Pope, Sermon against Adultery.
P. 191, 1. 7. On the date of production of Love in a Wood see
Mr. G. A. Aitken's article in the Dictionary of National Biography.
He shows fairly conclusively that it was first acted in the early spring
before its registration at Stationers' Hall (with the dedication) on
October 6th, 1671.
P. 191, 1. 12. Dennis, Familiar Letters (edition of 1721), pp.
216-7. Macaulay, in his essay on Wycherley, gives only the tamer
(and very pointless) version which the Rev. Joseph Spence took down
from the conversation of Alexander Pope. Pope told the tale thus :
" Wycherley was a very handsome man. His acquaintance with the
famous Duchess of Cleveland commenced oddly enough. One day,
as he passed that duchess's coach in the ring, she leaned out of the
window, and cried out loudly enough to be heard distinctly by him :

NOTES 337
1 Sir, you're a rascal ; you're a villain ! ' Wycherley from that instant
entertained hopes. He did not fail waiting on her the next morning :
and with a very melancholy tone begged to know how it was possible
for him to have so much disobliged her Grace ? They were very
good friends from that time ; yet, after all, what did he get by her?" —
Spence, Anecdotes, p. 16.
P. 191, 1. 21. Love in a Wood, Act I, Scene 2. The last two
lines of the song run :
" Great Wits and Great Braves
Have always a Punk to their Mother."
P. 194, 1. 2. In Hatton Correspondence, Vol. I.
P. 194, 1. 9. lb., letter of January 18th, 1672.
P. 194, 1. 22. Evelyn, Diary, September 10th, 1672.
P. 195, 11. 3, 7. Ib., October 9th, 21st, 1672.
P. 196, 1. 13. Perhaps we should say that he had already done so
before the marriage ; since the reversion of the grant of June 5th,
1672, is to Charles Fitzroy and his heirs male, and in default to Henry
Fitzroy and his heirs male.
P. 197, 1. 19. Evelyn, Diary, October 17th, 1671.
P. 200, 1. 21. Letters to Sir Joseph Williamson (Camden Society's
Publications). P. 201, 1. 10. Hatton Correspondence.
P. 201, 1. 27. Nell Gwynn used a coarser word.
P. 202, 1. 5. Letters to Williamson, August 25th, 1673.
P. 205, 1. 4. Evelyn, Diary, September 10th, 1677.
P. 205, 1. 10. Derham to Williamson, November 5th, 1673.
P. 205, 1. 27. First published by Steinman, First Addenda (1874)
from Ashmolean MSS. 837.
P. 207, 1. 5. Camden Society's Publications (Old Series), No. 52.
P. 208, 1. 27. Letters of Humphrey Prideaux, Camden Society's
Publications (New Series), No. 15.
P. 210, 11. 11, 13. Ib., Letters of November 8th, 1675, and Octo
ber 31st, 1676.
P. 212, 1. 13. Evelyn, Diary, September 6th, 1676.
P. 212, 1. 20. H.M.C., Rep. 12, App., Pt. V.
P. 213, !• J6. H.M.C., Rep. 4, App., Bath MSS.
z

338 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 214, 1. 10. Grant of April 7th, 1677.
P. 217, 1. 7. First printed by Steinman, Memoir, pp. 154-5, fr°m
the originals in the possession of Earl Stanhope. They are undated,
but obviously belong to this period.
P. 219, 1. 21. Hatton Correspondence, I, 168.
P. 220, 1. 10. The Convent ofthe Holy Sepulchre, rue Neuve de
Bellechase, Saint-Germain, within the walls of Paris.
P. 220, 1. 12. Hatton Correspondence, I, 167.
P. 220,1. 14. In The Adventures of Rivella there is a somewhat dif
ferent version of the Montagu affair : " During the short stay Rivella
had made in Hilaria' s family, she was become acquainted with the Lord
Crafty. He had been Ambassador in France, where his negotiations
are said to have procured as much advantage to your King " — the
supposed narrator of The Adventures, it must be remembered, is con
versing with a young French Chevalier — " as they did dishonour to his
own country. He had a long head turn'd to deceit and over-reaching.
If such a thing were to be done two ways, he never lov'd the plain,
nor valu'd a point if he could easily carry it. His person was not at
all beholding to nature, and yet he had possessed more fine women
than had the finest gentleman, not less than twice or thrice becoming
his master's rival. When Hilaria was in France he found it extreamly
convenient for his affairs to be well with her, as she was mistress, and
himself Ambassador. For some time 'tis supposed that he lov'd her
out of inclination, her own charms being inevitable ; but finding she was
not very regular, he reproach'd her in such a manner that the haughty
Hilaria vow'd his ruin. She would not permit a subject to take that
freedom she would not allow a monarch, which was, prescribing rules
for her conduct. In short, her power was such over the King, tho'
he was even then in the arms of a new and younger mistress, and
Hilaria at so great a distance from him, as to yield to the plague of her
importunity with which she fill'd her letters. He consented that Lord
Crafty should be recall'd, upon secret advice that she pretended to have
received of his corruption and treachery. The Ambassador did not
want either for friends in England, nor in Hilaria' s own family, who
gave him very early advice of what was design'd against him. He had
the dexterity to ward the intended blow, and turn it upon her that was
the aggressor ; Hilaria 's own daughter betray'd her to the Ambassador.
He had corrupted not only her heart, but seduced her from her duty
and integrity. Her mother was gone to take the Bourbon waters,
leaving this young lady the care of her family, and more immediately

NOTES 339
of such letters as a certain person should write to her, full of amorous
raptures for the favours she had bestow'd. These fatal letters, at least
several of them with answers full of tenderness under Hilaria' 's own
hand, the Ambassador proved so lucky as to make himself master of.
He return'd with his credentials to England to accuse Hilaria and
acquit himself. The mistress was summon'd from France to justify
her ill conduct. What could be said against such clear evidences of
her disloyalty ? 'Tis true, she had to deal with the most merciful
Prince in the world, and who made the largest allowances for human
frailty, which she so far improv'd as to tell His Majesty there was
nothing criminal in a correspondence design'd only for amusement,
without presuming to aim at consequences ; the very mode and manner
of expression in French and English were widely different ; that
which in one language carried an air of extream gallantry meant no
more than meer civility in t' other. Whether the Monarch were, or
would seem persuaded, he appear'd so, and order'd her to forgive the
Ambassador ; to whom he return'd his thanks for the care he had
taken of his glory, very much to Hilaria' s mortification, who was not
suffer'd to exhibit her complaint against him, which was look'd upon as
proceeding only from the malice and revenge of a vindictive guilty
woman." [The Lord Crafty in the above is, of course, Ralph
Montagu.] For Montagu's attempted defence of himself when he got back to
London see a long letter dated July 6th, 1678, from Sir Robert South
well to the Duke of Ormonde, which is among the MSS. of the
Marquess of Ormonde (H.M.C., Ormonde MSS., Vol. IV.). Among
other things Montagu says that, King Charles having entrusted to him
the compassing of a marriage between Northumberland and Lady
Elizabeth Percy, the Duchess of Cleveland and his wife became
friends of a sort. " But his Lady being (on a visit to the Duchess)
forbid admission because Monsieur Chattillean [sic] was with her, she
returned in high resentment, so that he, seeing the designed marriage in
danger, took on him to expostulate very roundly with the Duchess for
her licentious course of life with the said Monsieur " — with the result
that might be expected. To protect himself, therefore, he had six of
her letters stolen, whereof some abounded with gross and unseemly
things, some with disrespect to His Majesty, etc. In fact, the mischief
was all due to the Duchess and ChatiUon. Montagu had no chance of
telling Charles this, however, for as soon as he began the King cut him
short, saying that he knew already too much of it, and forbade him the
Court.

340 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 221, 1. I. Harleian MSS., 7006, pp. 171-6. This is taken
from a copy made by the Rev. George Harbin in 17 3 1 from the
original letter, then in the possession of the Earl of Berkshire. The
punctuation follows Harbin, with a few modifications. It is clearly
not the Duchess's own. See next note.
P. 228,1. 13. British Museum Additional MSS., 21, 505. This
being the original letter, the Duchess's spelling has been carefully pre
served. With regard to the punctuation, the full stops, the colons,
and the commas have been added for the sake of clearness ; as
also a few quotation-marks for the speeches reported. The writer used
no stops at all except ten semicolons ! [In the cases of both this and
the other letter from Paris I have consulted the actual MSS. in the
British Museum, so that the transcripts may claim to be more accurate
than those which have appeared hitherto in print, previous editors
having taken some liberties with the text. — P.W.S.]
P. 232, 1. 20. The Abbey of Our Lady, Port Royal des Champs,
near Versailles.
P. 236, 1. 16. H.M.C., Rep. 12, App., Pt. V.
P. 237, 1. 3. H.M.C., Rep. 7, App. W. Denton to Sir Ralph
Verney, September 14th, 1671 : "I hear Thin is laid siege to Lady
Cleveland's daughter."
P. 237, 1. 21. A Brief Historical Relation of State Affairs from Sep
tember, 1678, to April, 1714. This diary of Narcissus LuttreU is by
no means as ponderous as its title would indicate. This will be clear
from our quotations.
P. 237, footnote. H.M.C., Buccleugk and Queensberry MSS.
P. 240, 1. 13. Letter of August 16th, 1679.
P. 241, 1. 13. Hatton Correspondence, Letter of November 22nd,
1677. Compare what Dorothy, wife of Sir William Temple, writes
to her father in 1684 : "If papa were near, I should think myself a
perfect pope, though I hope I should not be burned as there was one
at Nell Gwynn's door the 5th of November, who was set in a great
chair, with a red nose half a yard long, with some hundreds of boys
throwing squibs at it."
P. 242, 1. 10. The Tower Bills show that Lord Castlemaine was
in the Tower in the Christmas quarter of 1678, the Christmas quarter
of 1679, and the Lady Day and Midsummer quarters of 1680.
P. 242,1. 13. Hatton Correspondence, I, 200.

NOTES 341
P. 243, 1. 23. Evelyn, Diary, December 4th, 1 679. It is now that
he declares Cleveland House "a noble palace, too good for that in
famous . . .," as already quoted on p. 178.
P. 244, 1. 15. H.M.C., Rep. 12., App., Pt. V. But see also a
letter from the Countess of Northampton on June 10th.
P. 245,1. 2. H.M.C., Rep. 12, App., Pt. V. Letter dated 1681,
November 1 5, from Chaloner Chute to the Countess of Rutland.
P. 245, 1. 27. Steinman, First Addenda, pp. 11, 12. The letter
is dated March 17th, 1683, i.e. i68f, or, as we now write, 1684.
P. 246, 1. 27. Evelyn, Diary, October 24th, 1684.
P. 247, 1. 3. Memoirs of John Macky, p. 39, quoted by Jesse,
Memoirs of the Court of England during the Reign of the Stuarts, IV,
p. 62. With regard to his betrayal of James II, the King on the
night of December I ith confided to the Duke his determination to fly,
desiring him to keep it a profound secret. He left Whitehall Stairs by
boat about 3 a.m., and when the door of the royal bedchamber was
thrown open at the usual hour of the levee, the Duke came out and
told the crowd waiting in the antechamber that James had fled.
" Having performed this last act of kindness for his sovereign," says
Jesse (IV, 414), "the Duke . . . immediately placed himself at the
head of his regiment of guards and declared for the Prince of
Orange." P. 248, 1. 29. See the article on Goodman in Dictionary of National
Biography^ P. 249, 1. 6. LuttreU in August 1685 describes how "the
picture of the late Duke of Monmouth, which was drawn by Sir
Peter Lely, and given to the University of Cambridge when he was
their chancellor [elected in 1674], is lately, together with the frame,
burnt by order before the schools of the University."
P. 250, 1. 16. History of England during the Reign ofthe Royal House
of Stuart, II, 5 76.
P. 251, 1. 5. Anne, Countess of Sunderland, to Henry Sidney,
January 8th, 1680.
P. 251, 1. 9. The following is a rough list of the chief ascertainable
gifts from Charles II to Barbara : —
February, 1663. All the King's Christmas presents from the
peers (p. 92).
(?) 1663. Phoenix Park, Dublin, afterwards withdrawn (see
below).

342 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
December, 1666. £30,000 to pay her debts (p. 141),
August 29th, 1667. 5600 oz. of silver-plate (p. 146).
April, 1668. Berkshire House (p. 64).
1669. £4700 a year out ofthe Post Office revenues (p. 171).
January, 1671. Nonsuch House and park (p. 182).
(Before August 9th) 1671. "£10,000 a year more" from the
Customs; "likewise near £10,000 a year out of the new
farm of the county excise of beer and ale " ; and various
reversions (p. 184).
February, 1672. Manors, etc., in Surrey. Large grants to her
children in this and the following years (pp. 186, 196, 202).
July, 1673. A (? new) pension of £5500 from the wine licence
revenue, and other minor gifts (pp. 202-3).
1674. Large grants to her daughters on their marriages (p. 206).
October 9th, 1674. £6000 a year from the Excise (p. 208).
1676. Compensation for the withdrawn grant of Phoenix Park
(p. 185).
April 7th, 1677. Chief Stewardship, etc., of Hampton Court
(p. 214).
1679. Gift of £25,000 which Essex refused to pay, but his
successor paid (p. 252).
1684-5. Payment of £1599 out of the secret services fund of
Charles II (p. 250, 251).
P. 251, 11. 13, 30. See article on Essex by Mr. Osmund Airy in
Dictionary of National Biography. The letter is in H.M.C., Rep. 7,
App., 477 b. (John Verney to Sir Ralph Verney, Nov. 27th, 1679.)
P. 253, 1. 6. Dr. Raymond Crawfurd, in his painfully interesting
monograph, The Last Days of Charles II, says : " One may assert, with
considerable confidence, that his death was due to chronic granular kidney
(a form of Bright's disease), with ursemic convulsions, a disease that
claims the highest proportion of its victims during the fifth and sixth
decades of life."
P. 254, 1. 8. Hatton Correspondence.
P. 256, 1. 6. Lord Chesterfield, writing to the Earl of Arran on
February 7th, 1685, says in his decidedly touching account of King
Charles's deathbed (he was present for two whole nights and saw him
expire) : " Lastly, he asked his subjects' pardon for anything that had
been neglected, or acted conterary to the best rules of a good govern
ment." — Letters, p. 279.
P. 256, 1. 14. Burnet, History, II, 461.

NOTES 343
P. 258, 1. 6. lb., I, 169.
P. 261, 1. 10. LuttreU, February 2nd, 1685.
P. 264, 1. 9. LuttreU, June, 1685.
P. 264, 1. 14. News-letter of July 7th, 1685, among the Rutland
MSS. (H.M.C.,Rep.i2,App.,Pt.V.)
P. 265, 1. 4. Ellis Correspondence, Letter of March 15th, 1686.
P. 265, l.g. HM.C.,Rep.i2,App.,Pt.V. Letter of March 1 3th,
1686. P. 265, 1. 12. Poems on Affairs of State, II, 54.
P. 266, 1. 2. " A song to the old tune of Taking of Snuff is the
Mode of the Court," in Poems on Affairs of State. Jesse, Memoirs,
IV, 63, quotes both this and another entertaining poem, " The Lovers'
Session," which contains the line about Northumberland's " beautiful
face and dull stupid carriage " and goes on :
" But his prince-like project to kidnap his wife,
And a lady so free to make pris'ner for life,
Was tyranny to which the sex ne'er would submit,
And an iU-natured fool they liked worse than a wit."
P. 266, 1. 16. H.M.C., Rep. 12, App., Pt. V. Letter of March
13th, 1686.
P. 267, 1. 15. LuttreU, February, 1687.
P. 267, 1. 27. Wellwood, p. 185.
P. 268, 1. 10. Memoirs, II, 78.
P. 270, 1. 5. Original Treasury Papers, IV, 3, quoted by Steinman,
First Addenda, p. 15.
P. 271, 1. 28. Evelyn, August 18th, 1688.
P. 272, 1. 2. Reresby gives a different reason, that he "had, at a
meeting of the Scotch nobility in London, proposed to recall King
James." P. 272, 1. 17. In Esmond Viscount Castlewood takes the place of
the Duke of Hamilton.
P. 273, 1. 1. Cunningham, Handbook of London.
P. 276, 1. 31. The " kitchin-maid," according to the Compleat
Key, is " pretended Madam Beauclair."
P. 280, 1. 13. "The first Dutchess in England," i.e. the Duchess
of Norfolk.

344 MY LADY CASTLEMAINE
P. 284, 1. 5. See quotation from the Earl of Dorset's poem at the
head of chapter 1.
P. 284, 1. 17. Kneller's picture in the National Portrait GaUery.
P. 288,1. 17. See C. E. Lart, Jacobite Extracts from the Parish
Registers of St. Germain-en- Laye (1910), Vol. I.
P. 290,11. 3, iAfff. Steinman, First Addenda, pp. 16-18, from
Treasury Papers.
P. 291, footnote. H.M.C., Rep. 14, App., Pt. II.
P. 293, 1. 13. James Caulfield, Portraits, Memoirs, and Character of
Eminent Persons, on Beau Feilding. This is not an authoritative work,
but its compiler had access to information now lost.
P. 294, 1. 1. Tatler, No. 50 (August 4th, 1709).
P. 297, 1. 18. First edition, 1715 ; second and enlarged edition,
1723. P. 297, 1. 24. He appears as "Colonel Robert Fielding" in
A Jacobite Narrative ofthe War in Ireland, his regiment being one of
those sent to France in the April of 1690, in exchange for some
French regiments which James had asked Louis to send him (pp. 89,
92). The Narrative does not say whether the Colonel accompanied
his regiment or not.
P. 298, 1. 14. Tatler, No. 50.
P. 299, 1. 31. Wentworth Papers, p. 50.
P. 300, 1. 7. Atterbury's Correspondence, II, 31. As a matter of
fact, Dryden calls Zimri " Blest madman ! "
P. 301, 1. 23. Wentworth Papers, pp. 58-9.
P. 302, 1. 12. Pasted in Harleian MSS., 5808, p. 135. Quoted by
Steinman, Second Addenda, p. 14.
P. 304, 1. 7. See Howell, State Trials, XIV, cols. 1327-72, for
a report of the whole proceedings ; and Cases of Divorce for a part
account. P. 304, 1. 28. As Montague put it in his opening speech, "though
the law doth not take away from him that shall be convicted thereof
[bigamy, a crime amounting to felony] the benefit of his clergy, yet it
is such a crime as doth take away from the prisoner the assistance of
counsel." P. 309, footnote. The "Articles" are given in full in Cases of
Divorce, as are the seven letters from Feilding to Mary Wadsworth.

NOTES 345
P. 316, 1. 9. Tatler, No. 51 (August 6th, 1709) : " Orlando now
raves in a garret, and caUs to his neighbour skies to pity his dolors and
find redress for an unhappy lover."
P. 3 1 7, 1. 2 1 . See articles on Charles Hamilton and James Douglas,
fourth Duke of Hamilton, in Dictionary of National Biography. Mr.
Martin Haile in his James Francis Edward, the Old Chevalier,
pp. 1 2 8-9, sets out well the reasons for thinking that the killing of
the Duke of Hamilton was a treacherous murder by those whom
Swift calls " the two most abandoned wretches that ever infested this
island " — Mohun and MacCartney. Had the Duke gone to France
as Queen Anne's ambassador (which he was on the point of doing)
the Jacobite cause might have been saved. And young Hamilton, in
his evidence at the trial, charged MacCartney with thrusting at his
father as he lay on the ground wounded. In 17 19 MacCartney was
rewarded with the governorship of Portsmouth.
P. 319, 1. 3. Thomas Faulkner, History and Antiquities of Brentford,
Ealing, and Chiswick, p. 384. Mr. Lloyd Sanders, in his Old Kew,
Chiswick and Kensington, says that Walpole House was a school for
young gentlemen as early as 1 8 1 7 and that Thackeray was one of the
pupils there.
P. 319,1.21. F ea (Some Beauties, etc., p. 190) states that "the spirit
of the once lovely Barbara is said to haunt a room in the upper part of
the building [Walpole House] wringing her hands and bemoaning the
loss of her beauty " — which, he points out, is an unreasonable thing for
the spirit to do, seeing that Kneller's portrait of her in the National
Portrait Gallery shows that she retained her good looks.
P. 32T, 1. 13. On the Lifford peerage see G. E. C[okayne],
Complete Peerage, Vol. V, p. 77. Frederic William appears to have
been created Earl in July, 1698, but no patent seems to have been
enrolled.
ADDENDUM
P. 122, 1. 12. On Lauderdale's acquaintance with Lady Castle
maine Mr. John Willcock, in A Scots Earl in Covenanting Times
(p. 1 1 7), writes : " We are told on good authority that friendship is
impossible among the wicked, so it is certain that the alliance in ques
tion was a purely mercenary contract. As the royal mistress was
ravenously greedy, one is not surprised to find that before Lauderdale
had been long associated with her he was in straits for ready money.
From some quarter he must have obtained a fresh supply, for the
Countess was unfailing in her support of him against all his enemies."

INDEX

Addison, Joseph, 294
Anglesea, Earl of (Charles
Villiers), 7, 13, 16, 17, 23,
36. 325
Anglesea, Lady, see Mary
Bayning
Anne, Princess, afterwards
Queen, 35, 216, 291, 300,
32o» 336, 345
Arlington, Earl of (Henry
Bennet), 80, 84, 104, 107,
120, 151, 168 n., 169, 194-5,
204-5, 2o6> 236> 238~9
Arlington, Lady, 238
Arran, Earl of (James Douglas,
afterwards Duke of Hamil
ton), 271-2, 317, 320, 342,
343> 345
Arran, Count of, see Charles
Hamilton, senior
Arundel of Wardour, Lord, 242
Atterbury, Dr. Francis, 300
Aubrey, John, 7, 129 n.
Bakewell, Edward, 134, 333
Barillon (French Ambassador),
256
Bath, Countess of, 75
Batten, Sir William, 152
Bayning, Elizabeth, 205 n.
Bayning, Mary, 5, 7, 13, 16, 23,
197-8, 205 n.
Bayning, Paul, ist Viscount, 5,
205 n.
Beauclerc, Charles (afterwards
Duke of St. Albans), 202,
246
Bennet, Sir Henry, see Earl of
Arlington

Bennet, Isabella (afterwards
Duchess of Grafton), 195-6,
237-9. 247
Berkeley, Sir Charles (after
wards Viscount Fitzharding
and Earl of Falmouth), 80,
84, 88, 89, 102, no, 120,
122, 258, 328
Berkeley of Stratton, John, ist
Baron, 185, 213, 219, 321
Berkeley of Stratton, William,
4th Baron, 321
Bernard, Edward, 209-10
Bertie, Peregrine, 263, 266, 287
Blague, Miss, n 7-1 8
Blanquefort, Lord, 90
Boucher, 3 10- 11
Bouillon, Duchesse de (Maria
Anna Mancini), 263
Boyer, Abel, 2, 8, 22, 25, 31,
71, 189, 190,248, 267 «., 284,
289. 3°°. 32°. 323. 326, 327,
336
Braybrooke, Lord, 328, 330
Bristol, Earl of, 41, 43
Broderick, Sir Alan, 61
Brodrick, Hon. G. C., 332
Broghill, Lord, 139
Brounker, Lord, 152, 184
Browne, Dr., 10
Buckingham, ist Duke of
(George Villiers), 4, 7, 46
Buckingham, 2nd Duke of
(George Villiers), 12, 46, 97,
107, 146-7, 153. i58-9. l67.
169, 175, 181, 188, 300,
344
Buckingham, Duchess of, see
Mary Fairfax

347

34§

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

Burnet, Bishop, i, 40, 42-3,
86, 134, 142, 145, 157, 158,
179, 180 n., 188, 227, 247,
256, 323
Butler, Lady Elizabeth (after
wards Countess of Chester
field), 37, 38, 75, 86-7, 179
Butler, Lady Henrietta (after
wards Countess of Grantham),
321
Cambridge, Duke of, 143
Capel, Lord, see Earl of Essex
Capel, Lady, 19, 20, 325
" Carlos, Don " (son of Charles
II and Catherine Peg), 206
Carnegy, Lady, see Lady Anne
Hamilton
Carte, Thomas, 82, 185, 328,
334. 335
Castlemaine, Earl of, see Roger
Palmer
Castlemaine, Countess of, see
Barbara Villiers
Catherine (of Braganza), Queen,
4°-i. 45. 47 f-, 77-9. 95.
99, 100-1, 104-8, 123, 126,
128, 132,158,167, 175,179-
80, 240, 327, 330
Catherine, Empress of Russia,
3J9
Caulfield, James, 293, 344
Charles I, King, 7, 9, 35, 68,
145. l83
Charles II, King, 2, 29^, 35,
40, 4i#, 79, 82, 84/, 92-4,
96-8, 103, 105/:, no, 122,
130, 132/, 141/:, 154, 157-
60, 164, 173/, 188, 193/,
200, 202-4, 2°7. 2I2> 2I4.
227-8, 239/, 257-60, 293,
323. 32f5. 333. 335. 338~9>
342, etc.
Charnock, Robert, 285
ChatiUon, Marquis de, 218-19,
221, 225-6, 339
Chaworth, Lady, 212-13, 23^

Chesterfield, ist Earl of, 9, 11
Chesterfield, 2nd Earl of (Philip
Stanhope), 8ff, 26-9, 37-8,
47-8,86-8, 179, 217 n., 243,
251, 325, 326, 342
Chesterfield, 4th Earl of, 188,
189, 190, 336
Chesterfield, Ladies, see Lady
Elizabeth Butler, Lady Anne
Percy
Chiffinch, William, 142, 145,
255
Churchill, Arabella, 189, 336
Churchill, John, afterwards
Duke of Marlborough, 187-
9°. !95. 208, 271, 276, 336
Cholmly, SirH., 138, 141, 144,
469. 334
Cibber, Colley, 249
Clarendon, Earl of (Edward
Hyde), 6, 32-3, 42-4, 48/,
6gff., 80-1, 91, 102, 120,
126-7, 13°. J32-3. M2, 143.
146, 149.^. i58, l65> 252,
258. 334. etc.
Clark, Mr. A., 329, 332
Cleveland, Earl of (Thomas
Wentworth), 178
Cleveland, Duchess of, see
Barbara Villiers
Cokayne, G. E., 345
Coke, Roger, 333
Colbert (French Ambassador),
168, 174-6, 194-5
Cominges, Comte de, 85, 96,
100, 105, 108, 109, 114-15.
117, 119, 121, 126, 129,
217 «., 328, 329, 332
Congreve, William, 191, 265
Cory, Mrs., 166-7
Cosmo de' Medici, afterwards
Grand Duke of Tuscany
(Cosmo III), 324
Courtin (French envoy), 124,
125, 126, 129
Crawfurd, Dr. Raymond, 342
Creed, Mr., 73, 80, 95

INDEX

349

Crofts, William, afterwards
Lord, 78
Crofts, James, see Duke of
Monmouth
Cromwell, Oliver, 11, 12, 20,
r37 «•> 324, 326
Cromwell, Frances, 11, 12
Cromwell, Mary, n
Dacre, Lord, see Earl of Sussex
Dale, Rev. L. W. T, 318
Danby, Earl of, 206, 223, 251
Dangerfield, Thomas, 242-3,
262
Dartmouth, Earl of, 49, 216,
326, 327
Davis, Mary (Moll), 28 «., 159-
60, 164, 166
De la Cloche, James, 78
Deleau, Anne, 298, 2>°Sff-
Denbigh, Earl of, 292, 295,
302
Denham, Lady, 123, 139
Dennis, John, 191, 265
De Repas, Denis, 125, 127, 140
Devonshire, Duke of, 302
d'Orleans, see Orleans
Dorset, Earl of, 1
Douglas, James, see Earl of
Arran
Drian, Don Francisco, 299J
3°8. 3"
Dryden, John, 19, 92, 191,
239-40, 262, 344
Dyke, Sir Thomas, 233
Ellis, John, 208, 210, 215, 263,
265
Essex, Earl of (Arthur Capel),
251, 321, 325
Essex, Earl of (Algernon
Capel), 321
Evelyn, John, 31, 50, 78, 91,
118, 138-9, 142, 164, 175,
178, 182, 194-6, 199, 238-9,
246,247, 253-7, 262 «., 271,
328. 333. etc

Fairfax, Lord, 12
Fairfax, Mary (afterwards
Duchess of Buckingham),
i2. 13, 75. 83. i°7
Falmouth, Lord, see Sir Charles
Berkeley
Falmouth, Lady, 123, 148
Faulkner, Thomas, 319, 345
Fea,Mr.Allan, 319,329, 331,345
Feilding, George, 292, 293
Feilding, Robert, 292-316, 344,
345
Fell, Dr. John, 209
Fenwick, Sir John, 285, 286
Ferrers, Captain, 89, 97
Finch, Heneage (afterwards ist
Earl of Nottingham), 206
Fitzharding, Viscount, see Sir
Charles Berkeley
Fitzroy, Anne, see Anne Palmer
" Fitzroy," Barbara, 187, 195,
208, 215, 271-2
Fitzroy, Charles (afterwards ist
Duke of Southampton), 52-3,
126, 170, 176, 178, 196, 202,
208-10, 236, 248, 269, 277,
279. 3l8> 322
Fitzroy, Charles, 2nd Duke of
Grafton, 271, 300-2, 303 n.,
310, 314, 320,321
Fitzroy, Charlotte (afterwards
Countess of Lichfield), 113,
170, 205-7, 215, 237, 317
Fitzroy, George (afterwards ist
Duke of Northumberland),
130-1, 170, 176, 208, 209,
214, 236-7, 244-7, 249. 264
/., 279, 302, 303 n., 314, 339,
34i, 343
Fitzroy, Henry (afterwards ist
Duke of Grafton), 101, in,
126, 170, 176, 195-6, 202,
204-5, 2o8. 236-9. 243. 247,
249, 264/:, 271, 337
Fitzroy, William, 2nd Duke of
Southampton, 277, 322
Foxcroft, Miss H. C., 323

350

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

Gerard, Lord and Lady, 85
Glemham, Anne, 5
Glemham, Dr., 148
Goodman, Cardonell, 248-50,
263,278-9,284-6,292, 298?/.
" Goodman Cleveland," 263,
287
Gorges, Arthur, 198
Grafton, ist and 2nd Dukes,
see Henry and Charles Fitz
roy, Dukes of Grafton
Grafton, Duchess of, see Isabella
Bennet
Gramont, Comte de, 24, 38, 87,
g1^. io5.108. "6-18, 141,
171, 176-7, 187, 332, 335,
etc.
Gramont, Comtesse de, see
Elizabeth Hamilton
Grandison, Viscounts, see Oliver
St. John, William Villiers,
John Villiers
Granger, James, 171
Grantham, Earl of, 320-1
Gwynn, Nell, 119, 137, 159,
160, 182, 201-3, 237. 240,
255-6, 262 «., 337, 340
Haile, Mr. Martin, 345
Hales, Sir Edward, 288
Halifax, Lord, 336
Hall, Jacob, 176, 177, 335
Hamilton, Duke of (James
Douglas), see Earl of Arran
Hamilton, Duke of (James
Hamilton), 13
Hamilton, Duchess of, widow
of preceding, 16, 17
Hamilton, Lady Anne (after
wards Lady Carnegy and
Countess of Southesk), 13,
16, 17, 18, 119, 324
Hamilton, Anthony, 38, 88,
105, 108 n., no, 117
Hamilton, Charles, senior,
271-2, 317-18, 345
Hamilton, Charles, junior, 318

Hamilton, Elizabeth (after
wards Comtesse de Gramont),
108 n., 117, 118, 296, 332
Hamilton, James, 38, 88, 108
n., no, 117
Harbin, Rev. George, 340
Harlay, Francois de, Arch
bishop of Paris, 215, 229-30
Harley, Sir Robert, 125, 140,
291
Hart, Charles, 160, 164, 171,
186
Harvey, Sir Daniel, 147-8, 166
n-, 235
Harvey, Lady, 166-7, 212, 223
Hatton, Charles, 201, 212,220,
241
Hatton, Mary, 219
Hatton, Viscount, 87, 194, 219,
220, 255
Henrietta, Princess, Duchesse
d'Orleans, 80 n., 90, 173-5,
iSi, 335
Henrietta Maria, Queen, 10,
31, 50, 68, 69, 72-3, 77-9,
91, 121, 181, 183
Henry VIII, King, 112, 183
Herbert, William, see 1 st Baron
Powis
Herbert, Catherine (wife of Sir
James Palmer), 23
Howard, Lady Elizabeth, 19
Howard, Lord, 197
Howards, Earls of Berkshire,
19, J59, 165
Hungerford, Sir Edward, 190
Hyde, Anne, see Duchess of
York
Hyde, Edward, see Earl of
Clarendon
Hyde, Lawrence (afterwards
Earl of Rochester), 252
Innocent XI, Pope, 267-8
James I, King, 7, 55, 145
James, Duke of York, after-

INDEX

35i

wards King James II, 24,
35. 47. 79. 83. 86-7, "9.
120, 122, 137, 138, 149,150,
166, 167, 168, 181, 200-1,
222, 234, 247, 252, 255-6,
261, 264/, 288-9, 294, 328.
34i. 344. etc.
James Francis Edward, Prince
of Wales, 268, 285, 345
Jameson, Mrs., 29, 325
Jennings, Frances (afterwards
Duchess of Tyrconnel), 118
Jermyn, Henry (afterwards Earl
of Dover), 88, 148, 176-7,
188, 194, 334, 335
Jersey, Earl of, 314
Jesse, John H., 24, 29, 325,
34i. 343
Jusserand, M. J. J., 328, 329,
33°. 332
Katherine of Braganza, see
Queen Catherine
Kendal, Duchess of, 143
Keroualle, Louise de (after
wards Duchess of Ports
mouth), 2, 137, 155, 173-6,
182, 194-5, 201-4, 210-n,
217 «., 220, 223, 224, 240,
244, 245, 250-1, 253, 255-6,
.259. 26!. 32°. 33i
KiUigrew, Henry, 136-7
KiUigrew, Thomas, 137
Kirkhoven, see John Poliander
Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 284, 344,
345
Knipp, Mrs., 160-1
Konigsmark, Count John von,
237
Lake, Dr. Edward, 35
Lambert, General, 112
Lansdowne, Baron, 1 80 n.
Lauderdale, Earl of (afterwards
Duke), 122, 181, 345
Legge, Colonel William, 49,
327

Lely, Sir Peter, 2, 148, 192,
324- 34i
Lennox, Charles (afterwards
Duke of Richmond and
Lennox), 195, 208, 244, 246
Leroy, John, 134, 138, 333
Lichfield, Earl of, 205, 215,
.237. 3M
Lichfield, Lady, see Charlotte
Fitzroy
Lifford, Earl of, 320-1, 345
Lionne, Hugues de, 85, 108,
109, 114, 119
Lloyd Sanders, Mr., 345
Louis XIV, King, 85, 120-1,
129, 168, 173-5,222, 225-6,
258, 286, 338, 344
Lucy, Catherine (afterwards
Duchess of Northumberland),
265-6, 343
LuttreU, Narcissus, 237, 242,
243. 245. 249, 264, 285-6,
287, 288, 295, 301, 303, 340,
34i
Lyttelton, Sir Charles, 87, 194,
254. 255
Macaulay, Lord, 336
MacCartney, General, 272,
317-18, 345
Macky, John, 247
Mancini, see Duchesse de
Bouillon, Duchesse de Maza
rin, Comtesse de Soissons
Manley, Mary de la Riviere,
187-90, 210, 273/:, 283,
334, 336, 338~9
Manley, Sir Roger, 273
Marie-Louise of Orleans, Prin
cess, 225 n., 226
Marischal, Countess, 75
Marshall, Rebecca, 160
Marvell, Andrew, 186, 200
Mary, Princess, afterwards
Queen, 35, 269
Mary, Queen (Marie Beatrice
d'Este), 201, 212, 336

352

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

May, Baptist, 133, 145, 148,
15I, 153. 224, 333
Mazarin, Duchesse de (Hor-
tensia Mancini), 211-13, 240,
245. 253,261-3, 275 «., 277,
320
Mazarin, Cardinal, 211, 215
Mello, Dom Francisco de, 54,
69
Middleton, Earl of, 288, 317
Mohun, Lord, 272, 317, 345
Molina, Count de, 121, 123-4,
126, 130
Monk, General, 326
Monmouth, Duke of, 77-9, 83,
92, 116, 126, 159, 167, 173,
204, 206, 249, 257, 264,
34i
Montagu, Anne, 236
Montagu, Sir Edward (after
wards Lord Sandwich), 34,
41, 47. 57, 85-6, 88, 97, 98,
107, no, 120 n., 166, 330
Montagu, Edward (afterwards
Earl of Manchester), 107,
166
Montagu, George, 2
Montagu, Ralph (afterwards
Duke of Montagu), 168 n.,
175, 216/:, 338-9
Montague, Sir James, 304, 344
Moore, Hon. Robert, 234
Morland, Sir Samuel, 31
Morrice, Sir William, 40, 151
Mulgrave, Earl of, 239
Muskerry, Lord, 117, 122, 296
Muskerry, Lady, 117, 296
Nicholas, Sir Edward, 80
Norfolk, Duchess of, 280, 343
Northampton, Countess of, 265
Northumberland, Duke of, see
George Fitzroy
Northumberland, Duchess of,
see Catherine Lucy
Northumberland, Earl of
(Joceline Percy), 236

Northumberland, Countess of,
236
Northumberland, Dowager
Countess of, 236, 245
Nottingham, Lord (Daniel
Finch, 2nd Earl), 270
Oates, Titus, 23, 24, 241-2,
262
Ogle, Earl of, 236
Oldham, John, 3
Oldmixon, John, 250, 330
Orange, William II, Prince of,
9
Orange, Princess of (Mary,
Princess Royal of England),
10
Orange, William Henry, Prince
of, see William, Prince of
Orange
d'Orleans, Due, 173-4, 225 n.
d'Orleans, Duchesse, see Prin
cess Henrietta
Ormonde, ist Duke of (James
Butler), 37, 62 »., 69, 75,
185-6, 245-6, 251, 331
Ormonde, 2nd Duke of (James
Butler), 320, 321
Orrery, Lord, 43, 119
Ossory, Lord, 243
" Palmer,'' Anne (afterwards
Countess of Sussex), 32, 36,
37, n8, !7o. 197. 205-7,
212-13, 216, 218, 220 ff.,
233-4, 289, 326, 338
Palmer, Barbara, see Barbara
Villiers
Palmer, Sir Edward, 23
Palmer, Sir Henry, 23
Palmer, Sir James, 22-4
Palmer, Roger (afterwards Earl
of Castlemaine), 22^, 36,
39-40,44,52,56, 70, 71, 74,
80, 82, 101, 113, 118, 138,
11°: 235, 242-3, 262, 267-9,
287-9, 323. 326. 327, 332,
34o

INDEX

353

Palmer, Sir Thomas, 23
Paston, Sir Robert, 1 1 1
Pattison, Mark, 129 n.
Peg, Catherine, 206
Penn, William, 109, 142, 333
Penalva, Countess of, 69
Pepys, Samuel, 2, 26, 28, 30,
34^, 40, 45-6, 51-3, 66-7,
7°ff-, 77-9. 83#> 97. 99,
1QSf-> Il8> IX9. 122> I25,
135. *39#. i44#, i5J#>
159. l65. l66. 168-9, l87.
242, 33o, 331, 334, etc.
Pepys, Mrs., 28, 39, 46, 94,
160
Percy, Lady Anne (afterward
Countess of Chesterfield),
11
Percy, Lady Elizabeth
("Betty"), 236-7, 244-5,
265, 339
Pierce, Dr., 71, 81, 94, 100,
107,110-11,113,132,134-5, 148, 151, 152, 333
Pigeon, Mrs., 229-31
Poliander (Kirkhoven), John, 9
Poliander, Monsieur, 10
Pope, Alexander, 3, 190, 336
Portsmouth, Duchess of, see
Louise de Keroualle
Porter, Captain George, 285-6
Povy, 83, 119, 144, 154. ifi8
Powis, ist Baron (William Her
bert), 23
Powis, William Herbert, ist
Marquis of (afterwards Duke
of), 23, 242, 262, 268-9, 287,
289
Powis, Lady, 242, 262, 268
Prideaux, Humphrey, 208-10,
215
Pulteney, Anne (afterwards
Duchess of Southampton),
277
Queroualle, see Louise de
Keroualle

Raby, Lord, 300, 301
Remigius, Father, 299
Reresby, Sir John, 2, 48, 145 ».,
343
Rich, Robert, 12
Richmond, Duke of (Charles
Stuart), 46, 141-2, 157,
.333
Richmond, Duchesses of, see
Frances Stewart, Mary Villiers
Richmond, Duke of, see Charles
Lennox
Rupert, Prince, 144, 206, 247
Russell, Sir John, 1 2
Rutland, Countess of, 244, 263,
265
Ruvigny, Marquis of, 91
St. Albans, Duke of, see Charles
Beauclerc
St. Albans, Earl of, 148
St. Evremond, 26, 36, 213, 262,
2 75 "•
St. John, Barbara (Dame Bar
bara Villiers), 3, 197-8
St. John, Oliver, ist Viscount
Grandison, 4
St. Maurice, Marquis de, 175 n.
Sandwich, Earl of, see Sir
Edward Montagu
Sandwich, Lady, 46, 52, 67, 74,
118, 332
"Sarah, Mrs.," 46, 52, 70, 84,
101, 104, 105
Savile, Henry, 123, 136, 235
Scarborough, Sir Charles, 254
Scott, Lady Anne (afterwards
Duchess of Monmouth), 92,
116, 126, 144, 145. x59
Scott, James, see Duke of Mon
mouth
Scott, Sir Walter, 297
Sheldon, Archbishop, 158
Shore, Jane, 45, 115, 244
Sidney, Henry, 58, 217 n., 219,
240
Sidney, Colonel Robert, 328

354

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

Soissons, Comte de, 274 n.
Soissons, Comtesse de (Olympia
Mancini), 245, 27472.
Somers, Lord, 336
Somerset, Duke of, 244-5
Southampton, ist Duke of, see
Charles Fitzroy
Southampton, Duchesses of, see
Mary Wood, Anne Pulteney
Southampton, 2nd Duke of, see
William Fitzroy
Southampton, Earl of (Thomas
Wriothesley), 42, 120, 126-7,
143. !78
Southesk, Countess of, see Lady
Anne Hamilton
Spence, Rev. Joseph, 336
Stanhope, see ist, 2nd, and 4th
Earls of Chesterfield
Stanhope, Arthur, 1 1
Stanhope, Henry, 9
Stanhope, Lord, 300
Steinman, Mr. G. S., 129 n.,
245>3l8> 327. 328. 331. 333.
337, 338, 34i, 343. 344
Stewart, Frances (afterwards
Duchess of Richmond),
89#> 96. 98~9. i°7-8, IIO>
i2i, 124, 126, 130, 133, 136,
140/:, 157-8, 164, 177, 328,
329. 33°. 333
Stewart, Dr. Walter, 90
Stillingfleet, Rev. Edward, 109,
33°
Streights, Mrs., 299, 305
Strickland, Miss, 51, 109
Suffolk, Earl of, 70, 206
Suffolk, Lady, see Barbara
Villiers, Countess of Suffolk
Sunderland, Earl of, 155, 271
Sunderland, Lady, 58, 155, 240,
2S*
Sussex, Earl of, 37, 205-6,
212-13, 216, 233-4, 314
Sussex, Lady, see Anne Palmer
Swift, Dean, 216, 247, 296-7
Swift, Hon. Mary, 296

Talbot, Father Peter, 82-3
Temple, Sir William, 216, 223,
253 n-> 34°
Temple, Dorothy, 340
Teynham, Lord, 234
Thackeray, W. M., 272, 319,
343. 345 fW»
Thynne, Lady Isabella, 129
Thynne, Thomas, 237, 244,
34°
Tidcomb, Lieutenant-General,
274
Tychborne, Sir Henry, 222
Vaughan, Catherine, see Cath
erine Herbert
Vaughan, Sir Robert, 23
Verneuil, Due de, 121, 122,
126, 129
Verney, Sir Ralph, 251
Villars, Charlotte Henrietta,
299. 3°5#
Villiers family, 4
Villiers, Barbara, afterwards
Countess of Castlemaine and
Duchess of Cleveland: her
ancestry, 3 ; birth and bap
tism, 5 ; early years, 8 ; meets
Lord Chesterfield, 1 3 ; her
correspondence with him,
13 f; 26-8, 37> J79; friend
ship with Lady Anne
Hamilton, 16, 119; marries
Roger Palmer, 24 ; has small
pox, 27-8; makes the ac
quaintance of Charles II,
29-31 ; bears her first
daughter, Anne " Palmer,"
32, 36, 233, 326; Pepys's
early notices of, 35-9 ; be
comes Lady Castlemaine,
39 ff. ; her enmity with
Clarendon and South
ampton, 42, 120, 143, 258,
321, 334; compared with
Jane Shore, 45, 115, 244;
disconsolate over Charles's

INDEX

355

marriage, 47 ; bears her first
son, Charles Fitzroy, 5 2 ;
presented to Queen Cath
erine at Hampton Court,
53 ff- \ leaves her husband's
house, 70-1 ; at Whitehall
on August 23rd, 1662, 73-4 ;
appointed to Queen's bed
chamber, 75 ; accepted by
Catherine, 75, 78, 80;
chooses Charles's ministers,
80 ; Charles's visits to her
commented on, 84-6 ; ru
mours of her unfaithfulness,
88 ; and Frances Stewart,
89/!, 96 ff., 142 ; lodged at
Whitehall Palace, 93; bears
Henry Fitzroy, 101 ; her first
visit to Oxford, 101 ff.; be
comes Roman Catholic, 108;
her supposed change of lodg
ings, 112, 331; bears Char
lotte Fitzroy, 113; insulted
in St. James's Park, 114;
her part in foreign politics,
1 20 ff. ; alliance with Lauder
dale, 122, 345 ; second visit
to Oxford, 126 ff. ; bears
George Fitzroy, 130 ; her
heavy expenditure in 1666,
133-4, 141 ; banished and
recalled by Charles, 135 ;
her final rupture with Lord
Castlemaine, 138; evil in
fluence on Charles's char
acter, 145 j violent quarrel
with him, 147 ; returns to
Whitehall, 149 ; her share in
Clarendon's ruin, 150-2;
sides with Queen Catharine,
1 5 8 ; her actress rivals, 159^;
intrigue with Hart, 1 60 ; mock
petition to her and answer,
1 6 1-3; presented with Berk
shire House, 165 ; her alli
ance with the Yorks, 167,
1 80-1 ; receives a regular

income, 170; her intrigue
with Jacob Hall, 171; created
Duchess of Cleveland, 176;
has another violent quarrel
with Charles, 177; builds
Cleveland House, 179; re
ceives grant of Nonsuch,
183; her quarrel with Or
monde, 185-6 ; intrigue
with Churchill, 187 ff.,
336 ; with Wycherley, 191-3,
336; definitely supplanted
in Charles's favour, 195 ;
bears her daughter Barbara,
195; her conduct toward
Mary Wood, 1 96 ; loses
mother and grandmother,
197; quarrels with Arlington,
204 ; her education of her
children, 205, 208-10, 317;
marries two of her daughters,
205-7 j fie1 third visit to Ox
ford, 209 ; retires to Paris,
2I3 ff-\ her intrigue and
quarrel with Ralph Montagu,
216-34, 338-9 ; intrigue with
ChatiUon, 218, 221, 225 ;
and her sons' marriages,
235 ff-\ verse libel on her
and Duchess of Portsmouth,
239; visits England in 1682,
244 ; her intrigue with Good
man, 248-50, 263, 278-9,
284-7 j her grants from
Charles, 251, 341-2; at
Court on January 25th,
1685, 253 ; question of her
mention in Charles's dying
charge, 255-7 ; her treatment
by him, 257-60 ; interference
in his government, 258; finan
cial extortions, 259 ; in the
reign of James II, 261 ff. ;
her alleged son by Goodman,
263; her petition to the
Treasury, 270 ; moves to
Arlington Street, 272; her

356

MY LADY CASTLEMAINE

acquaintance with Mrs.
Manley, 274^; secures her
pension, 290-1 ; meets
Beau Feilding, 298; mar
ries him, 299 ; at the Court
of Anne, 300; her rupture
with Feilding, 301-3 ; brings
two actions against him,
304 ff. ; obtains nullity of
marriage, 314; retires to
Chiswick, 317; death and
funeral, 320; her character,
1-3, 182,275^, 283-4, 323,
etc. ; looks, Preface, 2, 284,
324, 345 ; her actual letters
quoted, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19,
26, 27, 217, 221 .#, 228 ff,
246, 270, 340
Villiers, Barbara, afterwards
Countess of Suffolk, 53, 57,
.9?
Villiers, Dame Barbara, see
Barbara St. John
Villiers, Charles, see Earl of
Anglesea
Villiers, Sir Edward, 3, 4, 53
Villiers, Colonel Sir Edward,
7°. 97. I71* !97. 202, 208,
269
Villiers, Elizabeth (afterwards
Countess of Orkney), 269
Villiers, Francis, 186
Villiers, Sir George, 4
Villiers, George, see ist and
2nd Dukes of Buckingham
Villiers, John, 3rd Viscount
Grandison, 70, 152, 171, 186,
197, 202-3, 208, 269
Villiers, Mary (afterwards
Duchess of Richmond), 45-6
Villiers, Robert (by courtesy
Viscount Purbeck), 296
Villiers, Susan (afterwards
Countess of Denbigh), 292

Villiers, William, 2nd Viscount
Grandison, 3, 5, 6, 7, 16, 42,
*33
Wadsworth, Mary, 297, 304 ff.,
344
Waller, Edmund, 106
Walpole, Horace, 2
Walter, Lucy, 2, 78
Watteville, Baron de, 41
Welby, Lord, 326
Wells, Winifred, 177, 327
Wellwood, James, 267-8, 3
Wentworth, Lady, 299, 301
Wentworth, Lady Henrietta, 83,
178
Whalley, Major-General Ed
ward, 34
Whalley, Captain John, 20
Wheatley, Mr. H. B., 324, 325,
333
Willcock, Mr. John, 345
William, Prince of Orange, 24,
216, 263, 269, 272, 289, 290,
321
Williamson, Sir Joseph, 200,
203, 217 n.
Wilson, Mrs., 145, 151, 165
Wood, Antony, 102, 103,126-8,
130-1, 329
Wood, Sir Henry, 196, 248
Wood, Mary (afterwardsDuchess
of Southampton), 1 96, 248
Wood, Dr. Thomas, 248
Wotton, Catherine, 9
Wycherley, William, 191-3,336
Yarmouth, Lady, 2
York, Duke of. See James,
Duke of York
York, Duchess of (Anne Hyde),
39. 77. 83. H7. M9. 167,
168-9, 180-1, 200

WILLI* U BE EN DON AND SON, LTD. PRINTEKS, PLVUOCTH